Seb. This hand and this have been acquainted well:  [Looks on it. It should have come before into my grasp, To kill the ravisher.

Dor. Thou heard’st the tyrant’s orders; guard thy life When ’tis attacked, and guard it like a man.

Seb. I’m still without thy meaning, but I thank thee.

Dor. Thank me when I ask thanks; thank me with that.

Seb. Such surly kindness did I never see.

Dor. [To the Captain of his Guards.]
Musa, draw out a file; pick man by man. 
Such who dare die, and dear will sell their death. 
Guard him to the utmost; now conduct him hence,
And treat him as my person.

Seb. Something like
That voice, methinks, I should have somewhere heard;
But floods of woes have hurried it far off,
Beyond my ken of soul. [Exit SEBASTIAN, with the Soldiers.

Dor. But I shall bring him back, ungrateful man! 
I shall, and set him full before thy sight,
When I shall front thee, like some staring ghost,
With all my wrongs about me.—­What, so soon
Returned? this haste is boding.

  Enter to him Emperor, BENDUCAR, and MUFTI.

Emp. She’s still inexorable, still imperious,
And loud, as if, like Bacchus, born in thunder. 
Be quick, ye false physicians of my mind;
Bring speedy death, or cure.

Bend. What can be counselled, while Sebastian lives? 
The vine will cling, while the tall poplar stands;
But, that cut down, creeps to the next support,
And twines as closely there.

Emp. That’s done with ease; I speak him dead:—­proceed.

Muf. Proclaim your marriage with Almeyda next,
That civil wars may cease; this gains the crowd: 
Then you may safely force her to your will;
For people side with violence and injustice,
When done for public good.

Emp. Preach thou that doctrine.

Bend. The unreasonable fool has broached a truth,
That blasts my hopes; but, since ’tis gone so far,
He shall divulge Almeyda is a Christian;
If that produce no tumult, I despair. [Aside.

Emp Why speaks not Dorax?

Dor. Because my soul abhors to mix with him. 
Sir, let me bluntly say, you went too far,
To trust the preaching power on state-affairs
To him, or any heavenly demagogue: 
’Tis a limb lopt from your prerogative,
And so much of heaven’s image blotted from you.

Muf. Sure thou hast never heard of holy men,
(So Christians call them) famed in state affairs! 
Such as in Spain, Ximenes, Albornoz;
In England, Wolsey; match me these with laymen.

Dor. How you triumph in one or two of these,
Born to be statesmen, happening to be churchmen! 
Thou call’st them holy; so their function was: 
But tell me, Mufti, which of them were saints?—­
Next sir, to you:  the sum of all is this,—­
Since he claims power from heaven, and not from kings,
When ’tis his interest, he can interest heaven
To preach you down; and ages oft depend
On hours, uninterrupted, in the chair.