_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.
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