University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

—A Street in Saragossa.
Enter Ruphino and Velasquez.
Ruph.
The people meet to-day! Who summon'd them?

Velas.
That have I yet to learn. No proclamation,
Notice, affix'd on the accustom'd quarters,
Calls them together; yet from mouth to mouth
The rumour runs, they meet.

Ruph.
No whisper who
Convokes them?

Velas.
Some say one, and some another;
But still, with one and all, alike conjecture.

Ruph.
Knows this Alasco?

Velas.
Him I have not seen.

Ruph.
Alasco loses ground. He is nobody!
Cortez and Nunez, who were yesterday
Alasco's hinds, to-day are better men,
Rated as the things for which they pass themselves.
We can tell gold, not men! The coin that's spurious
Won't pass with one in twenty!—out of twenty
Take one, you scarcely the proportion leave,
Who, for the sterling man, will take the base!
Opinion lords it! Let but the cheat keep close,
Take heed the wash conceals the brass or lead,
The stamp and colour carry it!—We ring gold;
We do not so with men, but trust report,
Or sight; and hence the coiner swamps the mint!
So where base metal stops, the counterfeit
Of human nature passes!

Velas.
Bitter truths!
There is Almagro! nothing is too high
For his o'er-reaching insolence, which his craft
Passes for the aspiring of desert!
Whereto he gathers those around him, whom
Display and luxury corrupt—who leave
His board high flush'd, to publish, in his praise,
The flatteries he himself suggests to them.
This will not yet thy son, Alasco, see,
Who, in his singleness of nature, hugs
A foe, the very worst the man can cope with
Who deals with such a partner as Almagro!
Take you Alasco, any day in the year,
He is the same!—no change of bearing waits
On change of circumstance—his station mounts,
Not he!—His peasant's dress he still keeps on,
Though arbiter of the fate of Arragon!
This balks; and all at fault we find the crowd,
Who still the flimsy shows of things affect
More than the things themselves; while, by a course
Diverse, Almagro gathers hosts of friends!
Behoves that man be watch'd!

Ruph.
Here comes Almagro,
Cortez and Nunez too!—My heart forebodes
Some mischief is afoot! You will attend
This meeting, will you not?

Velas.
Be sure I shall.
The hour draws nigh.

Ruph.
I shall attend it too,
Though somewhat frail to thread the jostling mass.
Observe, my friend—so deep are they in converse,
They note us not! They are plotting, my Velasquez!

[They go out.
Enter Almagro, Cortez, and Nunez.
Alma.
The man who takes the lead in troublous times,
Would need a certain toughness of the heart,
To withstand the dint of Pity,—not give way
At her instances, which ever thwart the course
Of just severity. Now such a man,
Methinks, Alasco is not;—a good man!
A perfect man in the gentler elements
Wherein our nature's founded; but without
Those sterner ones, which render action safe,
To those therein committed.

Cortez.
You are right;
He is too good!

Alma.
A man may be too good!
'Twas fit the King should die! Strong measures suit
Bold enterpises!—steps that startle men!—
Deeds that commit the actors thoroughly!—
Which defy halting; far more, turning back;
That fear itself takes risk for counsellor,
And, in the track of doing, bustles on!
For though one end combineth many minds,
Yet, of those many, few—perhaps but one—
Can calculate the means unto that end—
The road to it, which ever is to make;
Which some like straight, and others roundabout;
Which some would travel wet, and others dry;
Which some would take by day, and some by night;
Which some would trudge, and others roll along!
Thus, if all go together, one must lead;
That all go safe, he must know how to lead;
He must be brains, and heart, and limbs for all!
I fear Alasco scarce is such a man.

Nunez.
'Tis clear he is not.

Cortez.
See what he has done!
Spared the King's life, wherein our grievance lay!

Alma.
Wherein our peril lies, not only that
Our grievance may return with fourfold weight,
But heavy penalty be undergone
For the free breath that we have dared to draw!

Cortez.
Talk you of penalty?

Alma.
Of penalty!
For see our plight:—the power we have unseated
Is old in stratagem—has stuck at nought
To keep the upper hand:—is perfected
In subtlety to undermine the heart,
And make the conscience crumble till its scruples
Are swallow'd quick as water is by sand!
The King 's a prisoner!—what then? A cage
Lets out as well as in!—no fool but knows
There are more keys than one to every door,
And failing keys, picklocks and sledges work!
And what are guards, but watchers that must be watch'd!
While those who watch them may be bad as they,
And need their watchers too!—Nought that partakes
Of flesh and blood is all dependable!
“Last life, live hope.”—Ay, while there runs a spark
Among the embers!—There's no bondage, then,
That's end of hope, but death, with which life ends!
While the King lives, there's hope for tyranny,
And peradventure, there's despair for us!

Nunez.
If he escapes, we are lost.

Alma.
Not all of us.
Alasco is not lost, who spared the King!
Were I a man who saw with other eyes
Than those of partial love, thus might I say—
“Well done, Alasco!—how the fair world goes!
“Honesty has no chance in it!—makes a noose
“For its own neck, e'en of the selfsame springe
“That knavery poaches with!”—I'd slay the man
That call'd Alasco knave!—yet thus a man
Who loved him not might say—“A day ago
“Alasco was a traitor like myself,
“Like you, and every one of us!—his neck
“Was debtor to the noose!—but mark,—the death
“Of the King, which he along with us conspired,
“And which proposing only, we have pawn'd
“Our lives and all to fortune, by a cast
“To be redeem'd or lost; he makes assurance
“Of safety, enrich'd by such prosperity,
“As of his tallest hopes, a month ago
“Makes pigmies now!—saves the King's life!—Good sooth,
“Some men see far,—can calculate most shrewdly
“The course of consequences!—I had studied
“An hour, or more, methinks, ere I had seen
“The way to the King's favour was to put
“His life in jeopardy.”—You know I speak
Not as myself, but as another man!
I love Alasco, and, with care for him,
I contemplate his acts with others' eyes—
Or rather strive to do so—much I fear,
In their regards, his mercy to the King
Seems favour to himself.

Nunez.
And yet he keeps
The King in durance!

Alma.
True.

Nunez.
How thereupon
Shall he acquit himself to the King?

Alma.
How?

Nunez.
Yes.

Alma.
By laying it to our charge; to which, no doubt,
He to the King sets down his threaten'd life!—
Heard'st what one said to me, when that I urged
Which you urge now—a shrewd, far-sighted man?

Cortez.
What did he say?

Alma.
“Alasco spares the King,
“Thereby incensing us, too chafed thereat
“To brook the further step—setting the King
“At liberty!”—Do you see?—“On our account
“He keeps the King in durance—for himself,
“He would set him free to-morrow!”—Do you see?
“He makes his sister Regent,—What is she?
“The wife of the Prince, the King's son!—Very well!
“Where is the Prince?—on the frontier with the army.
“Where will he be a month hence, when he learns
“The state of Saragossa?—At her gates,
“With other knocks than beggars give for alms
“Besieging them; which we would treat like beggars!—
“But worse than thousand foes without the camp,
“Is one that lurks within it!—He gains entrance!—
“He sets his father on the throne again,
“His wife ascended but to render up;—
“Alasco is the brother of his wife;
“Alasco, the preserver of the King;
“Alasco of his treason is assoil'd;
“His fault transmuted into his desert;
“His sister, royal consort for his sake;
“Himself adopted, cherish'd, help'd to climb;
“While we, his instruments, which when he used
“He cast aside, obtain for our deserts
“The dungeon, or the galleys, or the scaffold.”
Now do you see?

Cortez.
How well you argue it!

Alma.
I, my dear friend!—I only tell you what
Another said—I did not argue so.
How could I, loving good Alasco?—Love
With all mankind is blindness, more or less!

Cortez.
Would we had made you Regent!—

Alma.
Had you done so,
Thus far at least you had been safe—your ends
Had been my own!

Nunez.
And why not Regent now?

Cortez.
The law is now the people's will—the people
To-day assemble—Nunez, you and I
Repair to the place of meeting, and at once
Propose Almagro Regent!

Alma.
[Affecting surprise.]
Do the people
Assemble to-day?

Cortez.
They do.

Alma.
You much surprise me!
And wherefore, friends?

Nunez.
Sure you forget, to ask!

Alma.
Do I?—I must, when you assert I do!

Nunez.
Recall, good sir, what yesternight you said—
“Behoved the people meet more frequently;
“As none could tell the day, or hour, their voices
“Might save the liberties of Arragon.”

Alma.
Something to that effect I now recall.

Cortez.
To that effect we lost no time, but set
Your friends at once to work; who so contrived,
The people act as of their own accord,
Nor know the springs that move them.

Alma.
Admirable!
A master-stroke, indeed, of policy!

Cortez.
Come, Nunez, come! Almagro shall be Regent!

[Exeunt Cortez and Nunez.
Alma.
Gods, what a giant is the mass, in act!
In reason, what a child!—I shall be Regent!
They think Alasco traitor! Honesty,
Thou know'st thy thanks! Sweat on!—Alasco is honest;
Means all men fairly, as he means himself;
Is true to the cause; would fetter his own limbs,
To give immunity to the meanest man's
That has embraced it;—yet is he a traitor!
Why so should all men fare who think they live
But for the world, and not the world for them.
I am Alasco's friend!—Yes, on the terms
I have been a friend to many another man,
To friend myself!—Apart from that, Alasco
Is such a man as jars my nature most—
A trusting lover of the common race;
Looks to another's good before his own;
Never suspects that men may cheat, betray;
Much less that they might swear themselves his friends,
And cut his throat, as I, almost could do,
But for this cause, had I no other reason,
That people say, and not his friends alone,
I have fatten'd on his credit!—for the tax
My pride has paid him there—he shall pay galling!
Yet will I keep awhile the mask on, for
The passion that consumes me, drinks my blood up,
And prompts defiance both of earth and heaven
To compass the possession of his sister!
He is at hand!—now to receive my friend—
Welcome, Alasco!

Alasco enters.
Alas.
Welcome every hour
That brings me to my friend!

Alma.
[with over-acted energy.]
I am thy friend.

Alas.
It were believed without that emphasis!
Is anything wrong? Require I now a friend
More than at any other time?

Alma.
O no!

Alas.
Almagro, more is written on thy brow
Than thou think'st meet to trust thy tongue withal!
That smile 's too thin! I can see through it, man!
It comes from the head, and not the heart; the which
'Tis meant to hide, not show!

Alma.
Doubt'st thou my truth?

Alas.
Ay—thou'rt in earnest now! In honest earnest!
Thou think'st, indeed, I do!—My own Almagro,
I am too clear myself, to doubt thy truth,
Or any other man's, unless, indeed,
Upon most cogent reason. Listen to me!
There are not wanting those who love me well,
Whom I love well, that have essay'd to shake
My faith in thee. When saw'st thou it was shaken?
Have I not still return'd to thee, my friend,
With open face and heart? Thou hast borne me hard—
Too hard, in sooth, to justify endurance
In any but a brother—till I have felt
My tingling fingers coiling in my palm!—
O had I struck thee then!—but, at the thought
Of blow to thee, I could have struck myself;
And never parted we at such a time,
But I have held to thee my open palm
As frank as now I do!

Alma.
[with an effort].
As frank I take it.

Alas.
What is the matter, man? I do not feel
The pressure of your hand as I was wont;
Ay, there it is! but comes upon the hint.
It used to come without! Man! you are thinking
Of something else than me! or else of me,
In other mood than you were wont to think.
Have I done anything?

Alma.
No.

Alas.
No? that's right.
What is it, then?

Alma.
What?

Alas.
What—Come! Come! You know
There's something. What is it?

Alma.
There is no satisfying
The people!

Alas.
Now 'tis coming! Well?—go on!

Alma.
They are jealous of you.

Alas.
Jealous, are they?—why?

Alma.
Because you spared the King.

Alas.
I never thought
To harm the King.

Alma.
No?

Alas.
No!

Alma.
I thought you did!

Alas.
You thought I did?—what! take his life, and he
In our power?—Lose my own first!—While he was free,
While he was able to dispute with us,
His power to oppress, and ours to right ourselves;
The argument, indeed, was life or death!
That's over!—at an end!—Take the King's life?
I'd slay the man that talk'd of touching it!

Alma.
What did you then propose?

Alas.
What I set out with!
Assurance of my sister's nuptial rights,
And full redress of the people's grievances.

Alma.
Which you will get! [Ironically.]


Alas.
Will get?—Be sure, I will!

Alma.
Our friends believe they had been perfected
In the King's death.

Alas.
Our friends believe like fools!
I'll not say, knaves.—Is not the King our hostage?
Where lies his value? Is it in his life,
Or, in his body, only?—While his friends
Believe they risk his life, to strike at ours,
Will they be quick to come to blows!—or rather
Will they not seek a parley?—treat with us?—
Listen to our terms?—award them their due weight?
Grant them?—upon the Gospels ratify
A treaty with us, sworn to by the King himself?
Take the King's life!

Alma.
Would I had thought of this
An hour ago!

Alas.
Why?

Alma.
I had been prepared
To justify you to the people.

Alas.
Pshaw!
I'll justify myself.

Alma.
I know him not,
He is positive when into action prick'd.
I have err'd in rating him too much a child,
And over-reach'd myself—I must recover,
With the hold I have upon his love for me.
Alasco!

Alas.
Well!

Alma.
Methinks was never pair
So link'd in love as we are! We should have been
Brothers!

Alas.
And we are so!—are we not?
The worth of birth is but the right to love.
We love as well as brothers, do we not,
Without that right?—what are we then, but brothers?
Come you to flesh and blood?—as all mankind
Had but one parentage, in the great first,
All flesh and blood are one!

Alma.
Yet there's a nearness
In affinity.

Alas.
Marry, yes,—for cuffs as well
As huggings!—Brothers have been haters!—From
One womb spring many natures, as diverse
As the winds, the children of the common air!

Alma.
Alasco, once you wish'd I were your brother,
By such a tie, as would have yet enrich'd
Our ample stock of love.

Alas.
I did.

Alma.
The Prince,
Thwarting my hopes, scarce ran, methinks, with thine,
Or I deceive myself.

Alas.
You are not deceived,
And know it—Wherefore make a doubt of it?

Alma.
Our surest wishes sometimes make them doubts,
Through wantonness to reassure themselves!
I should have been the husband of Olivia!

Alas.
You should!—you had been, had my will been done.

Alma.
I know your power was beggar to your will,
Whose vast abundance mock'd its penury!
Now haply turn'd to riches!—Friendship is
A godlike thing!

Alas.
'Tis perfect in itself!
So has the start of love, that's not content
Without its guerdon rich; to purchase which,
Crowns have been lost, and what surpasses them,
The grace of which they are but symbolical!
Whence blossoms richer than the garden's prime,
Supposing e'en the Hesperian fable truth,
Have broke their golden promise, and for fruit,
Given all their glorious hues to nourish poison!
But friendship, save its mood, seeks no delight:
Therein it all rejoices!—temperate—
Without the fiery throbbings of the brain,
And beatings of the heart!—unjealous!—pleased
To gather hearts for those it cherishes,
And of its own, making a goodly field,
Where nothing springs, but healthy generous seed,
Fair thoughts, pure feelings, sentiments sublime,
To justify and grace its loved election!

Alma.
Friends have done miracles for those they loved.

Alas.
They have!—I wonder, my Almagro, what
I would not do for thee?

Alma.
There was a thing
You might have done, and did not.

Alas.
What was it?

Alma.
You knew I loved!

Alas.
I did, and help'd your love,
Far as I could.

Alma.
Not so, Alasco!

Alas.
No?

Alma.
You urged my suit, indeed, but not methinks
With all that sturdy earnestness you owed me;
Gavest way, to soon, to a girl's fantasy,
And an old man's inclining!

Alas.
Did I?

Alma.
Yes.

Alas.
I am sorry you should think so!

Alma.
I am sorry
I should have cause to think so.—Look, Alasco:
Had I a sister, by a friend beloved,
Her wishes should incline the way I chose,
Howe'er they strain'd diversely!

Alas.
Ay!—indeed?
I think you are wrong!—A woman in affection
Is steadfastness, or steadfastness is nothing.
And they are fools who seek it.

Alma.
They are fools
Who in the heart of very weakness, think
To find so stern a thing.

Alas.
Almagro!

Alma.
Nay,
I know I speak harsh truths to you; and yet,
Did I speak harsher, I'm your fastest friend!
Where was your sister's love for you, Alasco,
When she repell'd the suit you urged for me?
Sisters love brothers, don't they?

Alas.
Yes.

Alma.
Methinks
Behoves such love be steadfast.

Alas.
Certainly.

Alma.
You pleaded for your friend with all your heart.

Alas.
With all my heart and soul, Almagro.

Alma.
Nay,
I'm sure you did—I am content you did—
But had been more so, with the proof of it.

Alas.
What proof would you have?

Alma.
What proof would I have?—Success!
The only solid proof of earnestness!

Alas.
Almagro!—

Alma.
Yes, I know—your sister's heart
Was given to the Prince—That's past and gone, Alasco!
The heyday of their love is over, now!
From her deserted bed she now looks back
Upon the day he knelt to woo her thither,
Who leaves her now alone there!

Alas.
Well, Almagro?

Alma.
Thy sister is divorced.

Alas.
They say she is.

Alma.
What hinders her to be Almagro's wife?

Alas.
Heav'n!—her own heart!—her father's honour!—mine!—
Don't touch me there, Almagro!

Alma.
Touch thee there!
Who touch'd thee there?—If she's divorced, she's free.

Alas.
If she's divorced against her husband's will,
If she's divorced without her own default,
If she's divorced and yet the contract good—
Perfect, without a flaw, that made her a wife;
She is not free, Almagro!—She should die
Before she married thee!—What would you call
My sister?—What was she?—The paramour
Of the Prince?—What! mean you she was that, the which
Did any call her, he would put his tongue
In jeopardy; for by this honest hand
I would tear it from his throat!—Have a care, Almagro!
Men tell me thou art selfish!—and thou camest
Too near a proof just now, in thine own aims,
To overlook the honour of thy friend!
Almagro, I'm a child, but yet a man!
Let me not find thee, what men say thou art—
Assured of that I would hate thee—I, Almagro!—
That never look'd upon my fellow-flesh
Without a kindness and a care for it!

Alma.
I know it is thy nature.

[Changing his tone.
Alas.
I have bragg'd;
But if I have, I have said the simple truth,
And, after all, where is the boast?—At best,
We are but what Heav'n made us! By no thought
Or labour of my own, I love my race,
Confide in them, and would do good to them!
It is the bias of my nature—which
Slept in my cradle, in the schoolroom waked,
And, all throughout my manhood, has held sway—
To joy in others' thriving!—When deserved—
Mark that!—I would not have pretension thrive
When not borne out by merit—'Tis as bad
As that a lie should prosper!—Barring that,
I fare the best when I see others banquet;
Nor care to scramble for the upper seats
At fortune's table—I have given them up,
More oft, than I have ta'en them;—nor can I bear,
Except in the sheer lack of worthiness,
To turn my back on men who have their faults,
Because, who has them not?—I am sure not I!—
One kind of man alone I cannot brook—
The man whose God is self!—But one such man,
I bless Heaven fervently, I have ever known!
And as fervently I pray to it,
I ne'er may know another!—Let this pass—
You say the people are displeased with me
Touching the King. Is that all?

Alma.
Something more—
Affecting your fair sister.

Alas.
What can it be?
Think you I err'd to make my sister Regent?

Alma.
Some soreness thereupon.

Alas.
I thought it right;
But if our friends think otherwise, 'tis well!
I care not who is Regent, so the course
Of things holds on.

Alma.
I am glad you are of that mind.
They meditate a change.

Alas.
A change?—indeed!

Alma.
And steps are taken to assemble them,
And learn their will and pleasure.

Alas.
Steps are taken?
Why was not I consulted?

Alma.
You are too easy,
Too lax in the exacting of your rights!
Men take advantage of you!—to say truth,
I ne'er divined you cared to be consulted,
Else had I put a clog upon their speed,
Had check'd its downhill swiftness.

Alas.
I'm not pleased—
And yet the people could not mean me wrong.
Come, come, all's well!

Enter Velasquez, Cortez, and Nunez, with People.
Velas.
Well met, Alasco!

Cortez.
And—
Well met, Almagro.—We have an errand, sirs,
To both of you. The people are divided—
Half wish Almagro Regent, half Alasco;
All holding the same mind in this regard,
That, in the strait we stand in, it is fit
That one of you should hold the rule, and not
Alasco's sister. Which of you will give
His vote to place the other in her seat?

Velas.
What do you say, Almagro?

Alma.
Good Velasquez,
I am taken by surprise.

Alas.
And so am I;
But I can speak at once—Almagro Regent!

All.
Almagro Regent!

Ruphino rushes in.
Ruph.
No, no, no!—Alasco,
What have you done? I follow'd hither, fast
As my old limbs could bear me—but too late!
O son!—son—son! thy father's voice ascends
Against thy mad devotion to that man!
Whom now thy breath hath seated in command,
But to unseat, ere long, will call for blood!
O that in even balance should be held
The claims of virtue and depravity;
Of truth and falsehood; generosity;
And overweening heartless selfishness;
That the weak, good, in its simplicity,
Should cast its weight into the other scale,
And heave its own to the beam!—Friends—countrymen—
Undo what you have done!

Alas.
It is too late.

Ruph.
Still faithful 'gainst thyself!

Alma.
Ruphino!—Sir!—
As to your years, with which your worth has grown,
Behoves me pay all reverence—observe
The first use which I make of that same power
Which you begrudge me hold. If mine, at home,
Supreme command; Alasco, rule abroad;
And, next to thee, Velasquez; whom, the more
He is bent to be my foe, the more will I
E'en as a friend entreat.

Nunez.
'Tis nobly said!

Alma.
Away, Alasco! join the patriot host,
And take Velasquez with thee;—thou, the chief;
He, second in command.—My friend, embrace.
How say you, sir? Am I a man for thee
Or him to fear?—Health and success, my friend!
You, to bright gains; honours, and spoils of war!
I, to the care and drudgery of the state!

[Goes out, followed by the people, shouting.
Ruph.
This day, my son, we both shall recollect.

Velas.
Alasco, come.

Ruph.
Till evening wait, Velasquez.
Methinks you have forgot your sister, boy:
If not to take farewell, a word or two
Behoves you change with her before you go.
His sister would have speech with him, Velasquez!

Alas.
Husband your speed, Velasquez, till I join you.

Velas.
Nay, we shall start together; say an hour
Ere sunset. At the postern with your steed
An hour ere sunset shall you find me waiting.
Not till you join me shall I sally forth,
But wait for you at the postern with your steed.

[Velasquez goes out.
Ruph.
What ponder you, Alasco?

Alas.
Nothing.

Ruph.
Son!
You are not ill?

Alas.
No, no! Lead to my sister.

[They go out.