I hated more than death Sebastian,
I could not see him die by vulgar hands;
But, prompted by my angel, or by his,
Freed all the slaves, and placed him next myself,
Because I would not have his person known.
I need not tell the rest, the event declares it.

_Ant._ Your conquests came of course; their men were raw,
And yours were disciplined.--One doubt remains,
Why you industriously concealed the king,
Who, known, had added courage to his men?

_Dor._ I would not hazard civil broils betwixt
His friends and mine; which might prevent our combat.
Yet, had he fallen, I had dismissed his troops;
Or, if victorious, ordered his escape.--
But I forgot a new increase of joy
To feast him with surprise; I must about it:
Expect my swift return. [_Exit._

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ Here's a lady at the door, that bids me tell you, she is come
to make an end of the game, that was broken off betwixt you.

_Ant._ What manner of woman is she? Does she not want two of the four
elements? has she any thing about her but air and fire?

_Serv._ Truly, she flies about the room as if she had wings instead of
legs; I believe she's just turning into a bird:--A house bird I
warrant her:--And so hasty to fly to you, that, rather than fail of
entrance, she would come tumbling down the chimney, like a swallow.

_Enter_ MORAYMA.

_Ant._ [_Running to her, and embracing her._] Look, if she be not here
already!--What, no denial it seems will serve your turn? Why, thou
little dun, is thy debt so pressing?

_Mor._ Little devil, if you please: Your lease is out, good master
conjurer, and I am come to fetch your soul and body; not an hour of
lewdness longer in this world for you.

_Ant._ Where the devil hast thou been? and how the devil didst thou
find me here?

_Mor._ I followed you into the castle-yard, but there was nothing but
tumult and confusion: and I was bodily afraid of being picked up by
some of the rabble; considering I had a double charge about me,--my
jewels, and my maidenhead.

_Ant._ Both of them intended for my worship's sole use and property.

_Mor._ And what was poor little I among them all?

_Ant._ Not a mouthful a-piece: 'Twas too much odds, in conscience!

_Mor._ So, seeking for shelter, I naturally ran to the old place of
assignation, the garden-house; where, for the want of instinct, you
did not follow me.

_Ant._ Well, for thy comfort, I have secured thy father; and I