University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

VELORA, THE VICEROY.
THE VICEROY,
(entering)
(aside...)
Alone by all my wishes! her soft bosom
By pensive solitude prepared for love! (... aside.)

Can we not teach the beautiful Velora
To lose the memory of Cambaya's shore
In the gay pleasures of our sumptuous city?
Will young Sylveyra rob us of those charms,
And to her desolated country bear
His lovely charge?

VELORA.
My lord, his word is past.

THE VICEROY.
Who, that from ocean's dangerous depths had brought
A pearl of such pure lustre, would throw back
The peerless gem?

VELORA.
That pity, which alone
Inspired the brave Sylveyra to protect,
And lead us to this realm, will prompt him still
To crown the just hopes of an aged exile.
My heart, my lord, can form no dearer wish,
Than to attend my father's injured age:
This sacred duty calls me, and must plead
My pardon with your highness.

THE VICEROY.
Stay, Velora!

VELORA.
My lord! my lord! release me! nor oppress
A helpless captive!

THE VICEROY.
By my life I worship
Thy wonderous charms: It is my heart's ambition
To court the kindness of thy gentle bosom:
If thou wilt meet the passion of my soul,
My proud affection will delight to throw
The richest splendors of dominion round thee,
And make thy station, like thy matchless beauty,
The gaze and envy of this Eastern world!

VELORA.
Reflect, my lord, that filial cares alone
Claim, and possess Velora's every thought!

THE VICEROY.
No more, thou lovely coy one! force no more
From those soft lips such ill-agreeing sounds,
While every beauty in thy blushing form,
With all the energy of warm expression
Tells nobler truths, more consonant to nature;
While these enchanting eyes inflame my soul,
And sparkle promises of bliss too high
For human voice to utter. In my arms
Come let me clasp thee!

VELORA.
O! forbear, my lord!
Nor force me to alarm an aged father!
I must retire: and may the God you serve,
Instruct your cooler reason to renounce
These fatal thoughts!

(Exit.
THE VICEROY,
(alone.)
O! thou luxuriant beauty!
Thou must be mine, for all thy weak resistance
Is like the failing mound, that art would raise
To stop the rising billows.