University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Street.
Bell tolls. Procession of the Inquisition.
Malec—Gomez. Hemeya, Hamet, Haly (in disguise).
Gom.
Here pause, and give his feeble frame repose,
Else, ere we gain the place of execution,
His aged limbs will sink upon the earth.

Mal.
(Very weak.)
Monks, have I reach'd your faggots?

Gom.
Scarce ten paces
Divide thee from the bourne of earthly pain.—
If thou hast pow'r, look forth, and hence behold
The Villarambla, where ascends the pile,
Upon whose burning top thou'rt doom'd to die!

Mal.
(Looking towards the side of the Stage.)
Let me behold!

Hem.
O Haly, look upon him!

Hal.
Hold, my lord,
Or you create suspicion—All bespeaks
The prosp'rous issue of our enterprise.—
I have dispos'd the bravest of the Moors
Around the pile of death.

Hem.
Be it thy care
To lead him to the eastern gate,—meanwhile
I fly to bear Florinda from the spot
Of safety, where I left her—Then we mount
Our Arab steeds, and speed us to the mountains.

Gom.
(To Malec.)
Fear shakes your frame—you seem to gaze appall'd
On yonder glitt'ring scene, where all Grenada
Has pour'd her thousands to behold thee die.

Mal.
It is a spectacle that fills my heart
With terror for mankind,—not for myself.
Unhappy country! land of monks and martyrs!
Women, and men, and children,—young and old,—
The beggar and the noble,—all are there,
To view the spectacle of human pain,
In laughing horrid merriment!—The mother
Comes with her little children, to behold—
Nay, some, perhaps, bear life within their bosoms,
Yet gaze without a shudder!—There, young maids,
Who would have shriek'd to see a spider crawl,
Are met to see their fellow-creature burn—
And this you call religion! But your faith,
Spaniards! your faith doth tell you otherwise;
For He, who taught you, taught you mercy too.
But one day Heav'n will vindicate itself.
The blood of millions, that has drench'd your earth,
In a red cloud doth gather round his throne,
Charg'd with the lightnings of eternal wrath,
To burst, at last, upon your guilty heads.
Peru shall be reveng'd, and Mexico
Shall be reveng'd,—and I shall be reveng'd.

Gom.
Perverse and harden'd sinner, I intended,
When here we paus'd, that thou shouldst give the Moors
Example of repentance.

Mal.
Prithee, Monk,
Do not disturb me now—I am not worth it.
Grant me one poor request—

Gom.
What wouldst thou ask?

Mal.
Tell me, where is my friend?

Gom.
I cannot tell thee.

Mal.
I thought he would not have abandon'd me
In my last hour. When I am dead, perhaps,—

Hem.
O Hamet!

Ham.
Hold, or you will ruin all!

Mal.
If there's a Spaniard here, to whom his creed
Does not forbid compassion, I entreat
That he approach, and bear a legacy
To one that still I love.

Hem.
(To Gomez.)
Let me approach him.

Gom.
Then speed thee, for the hour of death draws on.

Hem.
I cannot speak.

(He goes up to Malec, whose weakness prevents him from distinctly seeing him.)
Mal.
Whoe'er thou art, I thank thee.
I have a friend, sir,—you, perchance, have heard it:—
He left his faith, and he abandon'd me;
E'en now, when you yourself have pity on me,
Hemeya left his friend;—and yet I charge thee
To bear him my forgiveness;—tell him, sir,
Tell him I love him still!—Wilt thou do this?

Hem.
I'll tell him to revenge thee.

Mal.
Hold! that voice!

Hem.
Malec, no more! You wrong'd me.—Ha! he faints.

Gom.
Come, let us on—Support his feebleness.

Mal.
You need not lend your aid,—a passing trance
Came sudden on me,—I shall die contented.

(Bell tolls—They move slowly out.)