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xxxii "Eleaz. Mendoza sweats to wear Spain's diadem,— Philip hath sworn confusion to this realm,— They both are up in arms; war's flames do shine Like lightning in the air.—Wherefore, my lords! Look well on Eleazar!—Value me, Not by my sun-burnt cheeks, nor by my birth, But by my loss of blood, Which I have sacrific'd in Spain's defence. Then look on Philip and the Cardinal!— Look on those gaping curs, whose wide throats Stand stretch'd wide open like the gates of death To swallow you, your country, children, wives. Philip cries, 'Fire and blood!' the Cardinal Cries likewise 'Fire and blood!—I'll quench those flames.— Rod. Lay by these ambages! What seeks the Moor? Eleaz. A kingdom! Castile's crown!"

The reader will be reminded of Coriolanus' sovereign contempt of "the tag," in perusing Eleazar's proud vaunt of the divinity of a hero.

"Eleaz. to Queen. Are these your fears? Thus blow them into air. I rush'd amongst the thickest of their crowds, And with a countenance majestical, Like the imperious Sun, dispers'd their clouds.— I have perfum'd the rankness of their breath,