_Emp._ Well then, I love;
And 'tis below my greatness to disown it;
Love thee implacably, yet hate thee too;
Would hunt thee barefoot, in the mid-day sun,
Through the parched desarts and the scorching sands,
To enjoy thy love, and, once enjoyed, to kill thee.

_Alm._ 'Tis a false courage, when thou threaten'st me;
Thou canst not stir a hand to touch my life:
Do not I see thee tremble, while thou speak'st?
Lay by the lion's hide, vain conqueror,
And take the distaff; for thy soul's my slave.

_Emp._ Confusion! How thou view'st my very heart!
I could as soon
Stop a spring-tide, blown in, with my bare hand,
As this impetuous love:--Yes, I will wed thee;
In spite of thee, and of myself, I will.

_Alm._ For what? to people Africa with monsters,
Which that unnatural mixture must produce?
No, were we joined, even though it were in death,
Our bodies burning in one funeral pile,
The prodigy of Thebes would be renewed,
And my divided flame should break from thine.

_Emp._ Serpent, I will engender poison with thee;
Join hate with hate, add venom to the birth:
Our offspring, like the seed of dragons' teeth,
Shall issue armed, and fight themselves to death.

_Alm._ I'm calm again; thou canst not marry me.

_Emp._ As gleams of sunshine soften storms to showers,
So, if you smile, the loudness of my rage
In gentle whispers shall return but this--
That nothing can divert my love but death.

_Alm._ See how thou art deceived; I am a Christian:
'Tis true, unpractised in my new belief,
Wrongs I resent, nor pardon yet with ease;
Those fruits come late, and are of slow increase
In haughty hearts, like mine: Now, tell thyself
If this one word destroy not thy designs:
Thy law permits thee not to marry me.

_Emp._ 'Tis but a specious tale, to blast my hopes,
And baffle my pretensions.--Speak, Sebastian,
And, as a king, speak true.

_Seb._ Then, thus adjured,
On a king's word 'tis truth, but truth ill-timed;
For her dear life is now exposed anew,
Unless you wholly can put on divinity,
And graciously forgive.

_Alm._ Now learn, by this,
The little value I have left for life,
And trouble me no more.

_Emp._ I thank thee, woman;
Thou hast restored me to my native rage,
And I will seize my happiness by force.

_Seb._ Know, Muley Moluch, when thou darest attempt--

_Emp._ Beware! I would not be provoked to use
A conqueror's right, and therefore charge thy silence.
If thou wouldst merit to be thought my friend,
I leav