--
_Enter two of the Guards._
Go, bear the captive to a speedy death,
And set my soul at ease.
_Alm._ I charge you hold, ye ministers of death!--
Speak my Sebastian;
Plead for thy life; Oh, ask it of the tyrant:
'Tis no dishonour; trust me, love, 'tis none.
I would die for thee, but I cannot plead;
My haughty heart disdains it, even for thee.--
Still silent! Will the king of Portugal
Go to his death like a dumb sacrifice?
Beg him to save my life in saving thine.
_Seb._ Farewell; my life's not worth another word.
_Emp._ [_To the Guards._] Perform your orders.
_Alm._ Stay, take my farewell too!
Farewell the greatness of Almeyda's soul!--
Look, tyrant, what excess of love can do;
It pulls me down thus low as to thy feet; [_Kneels to him._
Nay, to embrace thy knees with loathing hands,
Which blister when they touch thee: Yet even thus,
Thus far I can, to save Sebastian's life.
_Emp._ A secret pleasure trickles through my veins:
It works about the inlets of my soul,
To feel thy touch, and pity tempts the pass:
But the tough metal of my heart resists;
'Tis warmed with the soft fire, not melted down.
_Alm._ A flood of scalding tears will make it run.
Spare him, Oh spare! Can you pretend to love,
And have no pity? Love and that are twins.
Here will I grow;
Thus compass you with these supplanting cords,
And pull so long till the proud fabrick falls.
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