pile unworthy of the god.

_Emp._ She's all that thou canst say, or I can think;
But the perverseness of her clamourous tongue
Strikes pity deaf.

_Seb._ Then only hear her eyes!
Though they are mute, they plead; nay, more, command;
For beauteous eyes have arbitrary power.
All females have prerogative of sex;
The she's even of the savage herd are safe;
And when they snarl or bite, have no return
But courtship from the male.

_Emp._ Were she not she, and I not Muley-Moluch,
She's mistress of inevitable charms,
For all but me; nor am I so exempt,
But that--I know not what I was to say--
But I am too obnoxious to my friends,
And swayed by your advice.

_Seb._ Sir, I advised not;
By heaven, I never counselled love, but pity.

_Emp._ By heaven thou didst; deny it not, thou didst:
For what was all that prodigality
Of praise, but to inflame me?

_Seb._ Sir--

_Emp._ No more;
Thou hast convinced me that she's worth my love.

_Seb._ Was ever man so ruined by himself? [_Aside._

_Alm._ Thy love! That odious mouth was never framed
To speak a word so soft:
Name death again, for that thou canst pronounce
With horrid grace, becoming of a tyrant.
Love is for human hearts, and not for thine,
Where the brute beast extinguishes the man.

_Emp._ Such if I were, yet rugged lions love,
And grapple, and compel their savage dames.--
Mark my Sebastian, how that sullen frown, [_She frowns._
Like flashing lightning, opens angry heaven,
And, while it kills, delights!--But yet, insult not
Too soon, proud beauty! I confess no love.

_Seb._ No, sir; I said so, and I witness for you,
Not love, but noble pity, moved your mind:
Interest might urge you too to save her life;
For those, who wish her party lost, might murmur
At shedding royal blood.

_Emp._ Right, thou instruct'st me;
Interest of state requires not death, but marriage,
To unite the jarring titles of our line.

_Seb._ Let me be dumb for ever; all I plead, [_Aside._
Like wildfire thrown against the winds, returns
With double force to burn me.

_Emp._ Could I but bend, to make my beauteous foe
The partner of my throne, and of my bed--

_Alm._ Still thou dissemblest; but, I read thy heart,
And know the power of my own charms; thou lov'st,
And I am pleased, for my revenge, thou dost.

_Emp._ And thou hast cause.

_Alm._ I have, for I have power to make thee wretched.
Be sure I will, and yet despair of freedom.