Rod.  I had much rather my own life were lost, Than Manuel’s were preserved.

Enter the Pirates, retreating before GONSALVO, &c.

1 Pirate.  All’s lost! they fight like devils, and our captain Yet sleeping in his bed.

2 Pirate.  Here lies Don Roderick; If we must die, we’ll not leave him behind.

[Goes to kill him.

Jul.  O, spare my Roderick’s life; and, in exchange, Take mine!  I put myself within your power, To save or kill.

1 Pirate.  So, here’s another pawn, For all our safeties.

Man.  Heaven! what has she done?

Gons.  Let go the lady, or expect no mercy!—­The least drop of her blood is worth all yours.  And mine together.

1 Pirate.  I am glad you think so:—­ Either deliver up your sword, or mine Shall pierce her heart this moment.

Gons.  Here, here, take it.

Man.  You are not mad, to give away all hopes

[MANUEL holds him

Of safety and defence, from us, from her,
And from yourself, at once!

Gons.  When she is dead, What is there worth defending?

Man.  Will you trust A pirate’s promise, sooner than your valour?

Gons.  Any thing, rather than see her in danger.

1 Pirate.  Nay, if you dispute the matter!—­

[Holds his sword to her breast.

Gons.  I yield, I yield!—­Reason to love must bow:  Love, that gives courage, can make cowards too!

[Gives his sword.

Jul.  O, strange effect of a most generous passion!

Rod.  His enemies themselves must needs admire it.

Man.  Nay, if Gonsalvo makes a fashion of it, ’Twill be valour to die tamely. [Gives his.

Hip.  I am for dying too with my dear master.

Amid.  My life will go as easily as a fly’s; The least fillip does it in this fright.

1 Pirate.  One call our captain up:  Tell him, he deserves little of the booty.

Jul.  It has so much prevailed upon my soul, I ever must acknowledge it. [To GONS.

Rod.  Julia has reason, if she love him; yet, I find I cannot bear it. [Aside.

Gons.  Say but, you love me; I am more than paid.

Jul.  You ask that only thing, I cannot give;—­
Were I not Roderick’s first, I should be yours;
My violent love for him, I know, is faulty;
Yet passion never can be placed so ill,
But that to change it is the greater crime. 
Inconstancy is such a guilt, as makes
That very love suspected, which it brings;
It brings a gift, but ’tis of ill-got wealth,
The spoils of some forsaken lover’s heart. 
Love, altered once, like blood let out before,
Will lose its virtue, and can cure no more.