University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE FIRST.

Almachilde, Ildovaldo.
Al.
Come, Ildovaldo, to my arms; embrace me;
Thou of my glory art the chief support.
Subdued, I must confess, by thy deserts,
I have no recompense that equals them:
But yet, if I am able ...

Il.
Good, my lord,
Ascribe it not to merit in myself
If near the royal standard I have fought
Against the banners of the faithless Clefi;
From my first unripe years, my ancestors
Have in my breast instill'd such principles,
That still the cause, whate'er the cause might be,
Of him who reign'd, seem'd sacred in my eyes.

Al.
Thy modest speech gives of a loyal heart
A pledge most unequivocal: I know it;
A man of prowess, ready to do more,
Esteems what he has done already nothing.
But what more now remains for thee to do?
Thou hast completely routed, or destroy'd,
Those my perfidious foes, whom cowardice
Imp'd with such rapid and fugacious wings.
Breathless myself I left them in thy hands:
I knew that thy sword, where it was at work,
My sword would supersede.

Il.
Fortune resolved
To smile on my endeavours. In thy power,
Clefi comes manacled before thee; smitten,
But with no mortal wound. If at his fall
Some sparks of valour glimmer'd in the hearts
Of his adherents, soon were they extinguish'd;
And with their leader all their spirit fell.

Al.
My heart, oh Ildovaldo, put to proof.
Is there, in all the world, a favourite object
To which thy wishes tend? Ah! speak; I dare not
Offer thee any thing; but yet (who can
Except thyself?) say what were that reward
Which least would wound thy virtue.

Il.
Prince, I will not,
Since such to thee I am not, in thy presence
Assume the semblance of a passionate friend.
The throne, rather than thou, I sought to-day
To rescue by my arm; the throne, whose safety
To-day in thy existence was involved.
Some one in future perhaps may fill that throne
For whom I should account I yielded little,
In yielding life itself: hence, in its cause
Was I a hardy combatant. Thou seest
That to serve thee was not my chiefest thought.
Hence thou art not my debtor; and already
From the importunate load of gratitude
Thou art by me released.

Al.
The more I hear,
The more do I admire thee. Yet by thee,
In this high contest, I will not be conquer'd.
Myself thou lovest not, and this to me
Have others said; yet hence to trust to thee
A portion of the fight, nay, e'en the posts
Of greatest confidence, I never doubted.
I blame thee not; since thou wert rather urged
By the attainted honour of the throne,
Than by my peril, valiantly to fight.
I know that to a hero like thyself,
The means by which I sit upon the throne
Cannot seem worthy: I myself am first
Those means to execrate: but thou dost know,
My generous enemy, what horrible
And stern necessity to them impell'd me.
E'en me, another's subject, e'en myself
Once as thy equal thou didst see: nor then
(I dare to challenge thee to this) seem'd I
Unworthy thy esteem. Alas! my fame
Is now no longer spotless: learn thou now,
That I, in heart, far far more infamous,
E'en than I'm deem'd by others, deem myself.
But on the bloody throne in indolence
I do not sleep; and hope to clear myself,
In part, of the intolerable blot,
(Never, oh never, to be quite effaced!)
Th'excruciating epithet of traitor.

Il.
I thought assuredly thy heart had been
Far more corrupted by the name of king:
But yet it is not sound. To feel remorse,
And yet retain ...

Al.
And wish I to retain?
Ah! long ere now ...

Il.
But yet this throne; thou know'st ...

Al.
I know that to another it belongs;
And that it is not mine ...

Il.
Then ...

Al.
Listen to me.
'Tis in my power to make myself to-day
Far less unworthy of the throne I fill.
Hear me; and afterwards, if thou canst do it,
Refuse to countenance my purposes ...
But whither does my blind desire impel me?
I have not yet a recompense discover'd
For thy past services, and yet presume
New ones to seek of thee?

Il.
Ah! yes: speak on.
Deeming me one that for magnanimous deeds
Expects no recompense, thou dost alone,
By this conviction, recompense me amply.
Speak; wherein can I serve thee?

Al.
Do not hope
That I shall tell it thee on other terms,
Except thou first, if in the world there be
Aught wherein I can serve thee, at my hands
Challenge that benefit. If of the realm
Thou wishest a great part (by merit all
Is thine,) or if some less ambitious thought,
Some gentler impulse, agitate thy heart,
From me conceal it not: I know full well
All blessings are not centred in a throne:
I know that there are other things, which gain'd,
Would far more constitute my happiness.
I know that much is wanting to my peace.
I know that in my heart an impulse lives
Which is the master-spring of my existence;
And more it burns in me, the more it meets
With obstacles. Ah! do thou then to me
Thyself unbosom, that I somewhat may
Benefit thee, now that thou canst so much,
Though others rights thou hold inviolate,
At once my cause assist.

Il.
I will speak out,
Since thou wilt have it so.—I wish not power;
Ah no! ill couldst thou this confer; and gifts,
These always are of penitence and blood.
But since thou hast promised to unfold to me
Thy inmost thoughts, I will not of my own
Be niggardly. That which alone I wish
From thee would nothing take, and to myself
Were life.

Al.
Name it; 'tis thine.

Il.
For a long time
In love I've lived. Rosmunda can alone
Prevent the accomplishment of my desires,
And thou alone persuade her to relent.

Al.
And she that has inflamed thee?

Il.
Is Romilda ...

Al.
What do I hear? ... Lov'st thou Romilda? ...

Il.
Yes ...
But whence in thee such wonder?

Al.
To myself
Thy love was utterly unknown.

Il.
But why,
Now that I tell it thee, art thou thus troubled?
Why thus dost hesitate? ...

Al.
I? ... pardon me ...
I'm not perturbed.—Romilda! and hast thou
Thus for a long time loved her?

Il.
What means this?
Perchance my love displeases thee? Perchance
That love doth not become me? Though she be
Of royal origin, I am not vile.
Rosmunda is the daughter of a king,
And she disdain'd not to bestow her hand
On thee, my equal.

Al.
Is there any rank
For thee too lofty? ... But thou know'st ... Rosmunda
Disposes of Romilda; ... and that I ...

Il.
Canst thou, perchance, gain nothing from Rosmunda,
And yet from thee she can obtain so much?
Enough.—I am already satisfied:
Thou hast already royally rewarded
All my much-vaunted merits by ... a promise.

Al.
Ah no! ... believe it not ... I will ... But speak ...
Romilda ... and doth she return thy love?

Il.
Romilda ... See, she comes.