University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—A Street in Avila.
VILLENA.
You say our fortune ripens; where is its show
Of fruit or blossom to repay our sojourn
In this dull Avila?

GIRON.
Have not all cities
Which tower throughout Castile embraced our cause,
And hither sent their delegates to form
The Holy Junta, who this day assemble?
And though Padilla's fame to Mondeiar gave
Toledo's voice, do I not sit for Burgos?

VILLENA.
And what is won for me but manners curb'd
By stricter supervision?

GIRON.
So you think
This state will last! 'Twill break in thousand fragments;
Then he who leads the troops will rule Castile.

VILLENA.
Such luck will be the General's who returns
This hour with fresh-won glories.

GIRON.
And this hour
The messengers dispatch'd to Charles will meet us
And, as I prophesied, without redress.
The Junta, who propose to sway men's hearts
By solemn plainness, in the open square
Sit to claim oaths of fealty to their power,
Without regard of Charles, unless he grant
Petitions which, I know, he scorn'd to hear.
Padilla will refuse to take that oath,
And the alternative is exile. Guess
Who then will lead the army.
[Trumpets without.
Hark! those sounds
Proclaim the Junta sitting. I am late.

[Exeunt.