ACT II.

SCENE I.—­The Queen’s Antechamber.

  Enter ALPHONSO and PEDRO.

Alph. When saw you my Lorenzo?

Ped. I had a glimpse of him; but he shot by me,
Like a young hound upon a burning scent;
He’s gone a harlot-hunting.

Alph. His foreign breeding might have taught him better.

Ped. ’Tis that has taught him this. 
What learn our youth abroad, but to refine
The homely vices of their native land? 
Give me an honest home-spun country clown
Of our own growth; his dulness is but plain,
But theirs embroidered; they are sent out fools,
But come back fops.

Alph. You know what reasons urged me;
But now, I have accomplished my designs,
I should be glad he knew them.  His wild riots
Disturb my soul; but they would sit more close,
Did not the threatened downfal of our house,
In Torrismond, o’erwhelm my private ills.

  Enter BERTRAN, attended, and whispering with a Courtier, aside.

Bert. I would not have her think, he dared to love her;
If he presume to own it, she’s so proud,
He tempts his certain ruin.

Alph. [To PED.] Mark how disdainfully he throws his eyes on us.  Our old imprisoned king wore no such looks.

Ped. O! would the general shake off his dotage to the usurping queen,
And re-enthrone good venerable Sancho,
I’ll undertake, should Bertran sound his trumpets,
And Torrismond but whistle through his fingers,
He draws his army off.

Alph. I told him so; But had an answer louder than a storm.

Ped. Now, plague and pox on his smock-loyalty! 
I hate to see a brave bold fellow sotted,
Made sour and senseless, turned to whey by love;
A drivelling hero, fit for a romance.—­
O, here he comes! what will their greetings be?

  Enter TORRISMOND, attended; BERTRAN and he meet and jostle.

Bert. Make way, my lords, and let the pageant pass.

Tor. I make my way, where’er I see my foe;
But you, my lord, are good at a retreat. 
I have no Moors behind me.

Bert. Death and hell!  Dare to speak thus when you come out again.

Tor. Dare to provoke me thus, insulting man!

Enter TERESA.

Ter. My lords, you are too loud so near the queen;
You, Torrismond, have much offended her. 
’Tis her command you instantly appear,
To answer your demeanour to the prince.
                           [Exit TERESA; BERTRAN, with his company,
                            follow her.

Tor. O, Pedro, O, Alphonso, pity me! 
A grove of pikes,
Whose polished steel from far severely shines,
Are not so dreadful as this beauteous queen.