Seb. [More calmly.]
Thou might’st have given it a more gentle name. 
Thou meant’st to kill a tyrant, not a king: 
Speak, didst thou not, Alonzo?

Dor. Can I speak! 
Alas, I cannot answer to Alonzo!—­
No, Dorax cannot answer to Alonzo;
Alonzo was too kind a name for me. 
Then, when I fought and conquered with your arms,
In that blest age, I was the man you named: 
Till rage and pride debased me into Dorax,
And lost, like Lucifer, my name above.

Seb. Yet twice this day I owed my life to Dorax.

Dor. I saved you but to kill you:  There’s my grief.

Seb. Nay, if thou can’st be grieved, thou can’st repent;
Thou could’st not be a villain, though thou would’st: 
Thou own’st too much, in owning thou hast erred;
And I too little, who provoked thy crime.

Dor. O stop this headlong torrent of your goodness! 
It comes too fast upon a feeble soul,
Half drowned in tears before:  Spare my confusion;
For pity spare; and say not first, you erred;
For yet I have not dared, through guilt and shame,
To throw myself beneath your royal feet.—­ [Falls at his feet.
Now spurn this rebel, this proud renegade;
’Tis just you should, nor will I more complain.

Seb. Indeed thou should’st not ask forgiveness first;
But thou prevent’st me still, in all that’s noble. [Taking him up.
Yes, I will raise thee up with better news. 
Thy Violante’s heart was ever thine;
Compelled to wed, because she was my ward,
Her soul was absent when she gave her hand;
Nor could my threats, or his pursuing courtship,
Effect the consummation of his love: 
So, still indulging tears, she pines for thee,
A widow, and a maid.

Dor. Have I been cursing heaven, while heaven blest me? 
I shall run mad with extacy of joy: 
What! in one moment, to be reconciled
To heaven, and to my king, and to my love!—­
But pity is my friend, and stops me short,
For my unhappy rival:—­Poor Henriquez!

Seb. Art thou so generous, too, to pity him? 
Nay, then, I was unjust to love him better. 
Here let me ever hold thee in my arms; [Embracing him.
And all our quarrels be but such as these,
Who shall love best, and closest shall embrace. 
Be what Henriquez was,—­be my Alonzo.

Dor. What, my Alonzo, said you? my Alonzo! 
Let my tears thank you, for I cannot speak;
And, if I could,
Words were not made to vent such thoughts as mine.

Seb. Some strange reverse of fate must sure attend
This vast profusion, this extravagance
Of heaven, to bless me thus.  ’Tis gold so pure,
It cannot bear the stamp, without alloy.—­
Be kind, ye powers! and take but half away: 
With ease the gifts of fortune I resign;
But let my love and friend be ever mine. [Exeunt.