Enter a Messenger.

Messen. The Duke of Arcos, sir, Does with a trumpet from the foe appear.

Boab. Attend him; he shall have his audience here.

  Enter the Duke of ARCOS.

D.  Arcos. The monarchs of Castile and Arragon Have sent me to you, to demand this town.  To which their just and rightful claim is known.

Boab. Tell Ferdinand, my right to it appears By long possession of eight hundred years:  When first my ancestors from Afric sailed, In Rodrique’s death your Gothic title failed.

D.  Arcos. The successors of Rodrique still remain,
And ever since have held some part of Spain: 
Even in the midst of your victorious powers,
The Asturias, and all Portugal, were ours. 
You have no right, except you force allow;
And if yours then was just, so ours is now.

Boab. ’Tis true from force the noblest title springs; I therefore hold from that, which first made kings.

D.  Arcos. Since then by force you prove your title true,
Ours must be just, because we claim from you. 
When with your father you did jointly reign,
Invading with your Moors the south of Spain,
I, who that day the Christians did command,
Then took, and brought you bound to Ferdinand.

Boab. I’ll hear no more; defer what you would say; In private we’ll discourse some other day.

D.  Arcos. Sir, you shall hear, however you are loth,
That, like a perjured prince, you broke your oath: 
To gain your freedom you a contract signed,
By which your crown you to my king resigned,
From thenceforth as his vassal holding it,
And paying tribute such as he thought fit;
Contracting, when your father came to die,
To lay aside all marks of royalty,
And at Purchena privately to live,
Which, in exchange, king Ferdinand did give.

Boab. The force used on me made that contract void.

D.  Arcos. Why have you then its benefits enjoyed? 
By it you had not only freedom then,
But, since, had aid of money and of men;
And, when Granada for your uncle held,
You were by us restored, and he expelled. 
Since that, in peace we let you reap your grain,
Recalled our troops, that used to beat your plain;
And more—­

Almanz. Yes, yes, you did, with wonderous care,
Against his rebels prosecute the war,
While he secure in your protection slept;
For him you took, but for yourself you kept. 
Thus, as some fawning usurer does feed,
With present sums, the unwary spendthrift’s need,
You sold your kindness at a boundless rate,
And then o’erpaid the debt from his estate;
Which, mouldering piecemeal, in your hands did fall,
Till now at last you come to swoop it all.

D.  Arcos. The wrong you do my king, I cannot bear;
Whose kindness you would odiously compare.—­
The estate was his; which yet, since you deny,
He’s now content, in his own wrong, to buy.