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Alfonso, King of Castile

A Tragedy In Five Acts
  
  
  
  
  

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SCENE II.
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SCENE II.

St. Juan's cloisters by moon-light.—On one side a Gothic chapel.
ORSINO.
[Alone in black armour.]
Yes, this must be the place—Estella named
St. Juan's shrine, and sure 'tis for the Princess
Yon altar flames—Oh! hallowed vaults, how often
Ye ring with prayers, which granted would destroy
The fools who form them ! Virgins there request
Their charms may sire the heart of some gay rake,
Who proves a wedded curse—There wives ask children,
And, when they have them, find their vices such
They mourn their birth—The spendthrift begs some kinsman
May die, and vows that Heaven shall share the spoil—
While the young soldier prays his sword ere long

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May blush with blood, (and with whose blood he cares not,)
Swearing, if so his arm may purchase glory,
He'll pay its price, a thousand human hearts.
And all these mad, these impious vows are ushered
With chaunt of cloistered maids, and swell of organs—
As could our earthly songs charm Him, who hears
Scraphs and cherubs wake their harps divine,
While the blest planets, hymning in their orbits,
Pour sorth such tones, as reached they mortal ears,
Man would go mad for very ecstasy!—
Well, well! Such forms are good to force example
On purblind eyes: But prayer from earth abstracted,
Breathed in no ear but Heaven's ; when lips are silent,
But the heart speaks full loudly; thanks the music,
Man's soul the censer, and pure thoughts the incense
Kindling with grace celestial: That's the worship,
Which suits Him best who, past all prayer and praise,
Esteems one grateful tear, one heart-drawn blessing,
Which, thanking God, declares that Man is happy.
—Ha! Gleams of torches gild yon distant aisle!

Enter Father BAZIL.
BAZIL.
Stranger, what dost thou here, where now to offer
Gifts at yon shrine for wondrous favour shown her,
The Princess hastens?—See she comes: retire!


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ORSINO.
Your pardon, reverend father! I obey.
[Exit Orsino.

A procession enters of Nuns and Friars with lighted tapers; then follow AMELROSA, ESTELLA, INIS, and Ladies, carrying offerings.
AMELROSA.
I thank ye, holy friends!—Now leave me here,
Where I must watch the livelong night, and feed
Yon sacred lamps, telling each hour my beads,
And pouring thanks to Heaven and good St. Juan.
Till morn farewell—

BAZIL.
May angels guard theo, daughter,
Pure as thy thoughts, and join thee in thy prayers!

[Exeunt.
AMELROSA.
[Alone.]
He is not here—Oh! How my bosom throbs
To know this fearful secret! Sure he cannot
Have missed the place?

ORSINO.
[Entering.]
All's dark again, and silent.
Perhaps her courage failed her, and she's gone.
If so, what must be done?—No, no! A shadow
Moves on the chapel porch! 'Tis surely she.

AMELROSA.
Hark!—Steps!—Orsino?


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ORSINO.
He.

AMELROSA.
Oh! good Orsino,
What brings thee here? Those words, “My father's life”
Like spells by witches breathed to raise the dead,
Filled my heart's circle with a crowd of phantoms,
Doleful and strange, which groan to be released.
Thy news! thy news! Oh, speak them in one word,
And let me know the worst!

ORSINO.
Thy fears, though great,
Are justified by that I have to tell.
Princess, a plot is formed, and ripe for action,
To spoil thy father of his throne and life.

AMELROSA.
My father! my good father?

ORSINO.
What can goodness
And moral duties 'gainst the assaults of passion?
Those chains, e'en when they seem than diamond harder,
Soften, calcine, and fall like dust away,
Touched by the burning finger of ambition.

AMELROSA.
This vile, vile world! Oh! is there one on earth
So lost to virtue, he would harm my father!

ORSINO.
There is, and one most favoured! one who owns
He long has lived nearest Alfonso's heart;

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His friend, his trusted friend! and yet this traitor,
This worst of traitors .... (shame denies me utterance!)
This traitor, Princess, is Orsino's son!

AMELROSA.
Thy son? thy long lost son?

ORSINO.
Long lost, late found,
And better than found thus, if lost for ever!
Go, Princess, go; preserve your sire:—I lay
Bound at my sovereign's feet this precious victim—
Yet while you paint the son's offence, paint also
His father's anguish! Plead for him, dear lady,
Oh! plead for him, and save him! since I own,
(Own it with shame) dearer than air or eye-sight
I love, I dote upon Cæsario!

AMELROSA.
[Starting.]
Whom?

ORSINO.
Cæsario is his name.

AMELROSA.
'Tis not! 'tis not!
Or, if it be, it means not that Cæsario!
Not my Cæsario! No, no, no!

ORSINO.
A soldier,
Who says he saved thee once. ....

AMELROSA.
Peace! death-bell, peace!
Thou ring'st the knell of all my joys!

ORSINO.
What mean'st thou?
What sudden passion. ....


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AMELROSA.
Hear me, wretched father!
This son, now guilty thought, but guiltier far,
(Who knows with what idolatry I dote on
My father, and yet plots to tear him from me!)
Is one, to buy whose barbarous heart, I spurned
All the world prizes—fame, respect, and empire!
Nay, risqued my father's love! This man, this man. ...
He is .... Oh Heaven! ... My husband!

ORSINO.
[Striking his forehead.]
Slave!—Wretch!—Fiend!—
And yet Orsino's son!—Alas! Poor Princess!
Gav'st thou him all, and rends he all from thee?
Was he thy love, and would he be thy bane?
Has he thy heart, and stabs it? Now, all plagues
Hell ever forged for dæmons, light ...

AMELROSA.
Hold! hold!
Oh! curse him not—No, save him! Some one comes ...
We shall be marked ... This way, and let us study
How we may rescue best. ....

ORSINO.
No! let him perish!
Perish, and seek the flames his guilt deserves:
The sooner, 'tis the better!

AMELROSA.
Silence, silence!
Dear friend, this way—be patient!—Oh! Cæsario,
And couldst thou have the heart to torture mine!

[Exeunt.

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CÆSARIO enters muffled in his cloak.
CÆSARIO.
Not come yet? 'Tis past midnight, and 'twas here
She bade me join her.—Ha! why flame yon lamps?
Should any loitering monk ... No, no, 'tis vacant,
And all as yet is safe.—Fate! let this hour
Be mine, and with the rest do what thou wilt.
I hear her!—To my work then!—Why this shivering?
—I would fain spare her.—If she yields to reason
'Tis well; if not ..... She's here.

Enter OTTILIA.
OTTILIA.
I find thee punctual!
'Tis well for thee thou art so! By my life,
If thou hadst failed me, I had sought the King!
Where is the priest?—On to the chapel!

CÆSARIO.
Stay,
And hear me! for the hour is come, that weighs
Our fates in the same balance. Thus then briefly—
Thou art most fair, in wit most choice and subtle;
In all rare talents still surpassing all;
And for these gifts, and thy long tried affection,
I feel, I owe thee much! owe thee firm friendship,
Eternal gratitude, faith, favour, love,
And all things, save my hand! Except but this,
(Which now I must not give, nor couldst thou take)
And ask what else thou wilt!

OTTILIA.
Most gracious sir,
For thy fair praise, and these so liberal offers
Of granting all, save that which I would have,

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Accept my thanks. I've heard thee; now hear me.
I'll be thy wife, or nothing!

CÆSARIO.
Lady, lady,
You know not what you ask!

OTTILIA.
I know myself
Worthy of what I ask, and know my power,
Which you, it seems, forget.—Is not my dowry
Your life and crown? Let me but speak one word,
And straight your fancied throne becomes a scaffold!
No more, but to the chapel.

CÆSARIO.
If to move thee
Ought would avail. ...

OTTILIA.
It cannot.

CÆSARIO.
Once a king. ...

OTTILIA.
I share thy throne.

CÆSARIO.
'Mid all Castile's first honours
Make thou thy choice. ....

OTTILIA.
'Tis made.

CÆSARIO.
And still remaining
My friend, my love. ...

OTTILIA.
Thy wife! thy wife! or nothing!


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CÆSARIO.
Nay, then I'll crush thy frantic hopes at once:
I'm married!

OTTILIA.
Starting.]
What?—I hope thou dost but feign;
For thy sake hope it, since, if true this marriage,
Thou'rt lost past saving!

CÆSARIO.
Nay, unbend thy brow,
Nor stamp, nor rave—the Princess is my wife,
And frowns unbind not whom the church hath bound.
The javelin's thrown, and cannot be recalled;—
Thine be the second prize, the first is won,
And all thy grief and rage, that 'tis another's,
Will but torment thyself.—Be wise, be wise,
And bear with patience what thou canst not cure.

OTTILIA.
I will not curse!—No; I'll not waste in vapour
The fire, which burns within me. What I feel,
My deeds will tell thee best. [Going.]


CÆSARIO.
[Detaining her.]
Ottilia, stay;
If yet one spark of love remains. ...

OTTILIA.
[Passionately.]
Of love?
Of love for thee?—Mark me! ere sets the sun
My rival dies, and thou once more art free:
But now so deadly is the hate I bear thee,
'Twill joy me less to see thee mine, than dead!
Thy blood! thy blood! 'Tis for thy blood I thirst,
And it shall stream.—Farewell.


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CÆSARIO.
Go then, proud woman,
I brave thy rancour—Ere thou gain'st the palace,
I'll spring the mine.

OTTILIA.
Indeed? Now hark awhile,
Then die for spite, thou base, thou baffled traitor!
Six trusty slaves wait but my call to bind
And bear thee to the King!—Aye, rage, rage, rage!
For I'll invent such tortures to dispatch thee,
Such racks, such whips, such baths of boiling sulphur,
The damned shall think their pains mere mirth and pastime,
And envying furies own their skill outdone.
I go to prove my words!

CÆSARIO.
Thou must not leave me. .....

OTTILIA.
Worlds should not bribe my stay. .....

CÆSARIO.
Thou'rt in my power. ....

OTTILIA.
Thy power? Thy power? I brave it! I defy it,
Scorn both thy power and thee! Unhand me, russian,
I'll not be held—Within there! Hasten hither!
Anthonio! Lopez!—Treason! Treason!

CÆSARIO.
Nay then,
This to thy heart— [Stabbing her.]


OTTILIA.
Help, help! Oh! vile assassin!


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Enter ORSINO. [Hastily.]
ORSINO.
What clamours ...... Hold! You pass not!

CÆSARIO.
Give me way,
Or else thy life. .....

ORSINO.
Ruffian, defend thine own!

[Exeunt fighting.
OTTILIA.
[Alone, leaning against a pillar.]
My blood streams fast! I'm wounded ... deeply wounded!—
My voice too fails: I cannot call for help.
To hope for life were vain; but for revenge ......
Could I but reach the palace ...... [Advancing a few steps, then sinking on the ground.]
'Twill not be!

I faint!—Oh, Heaven!

Enter AMELROSA.
AMELROSA.
All's hushed again! How fearful
After those shrieks appears the midnight calm!
—Orsino?—Speak! Orsino?—No one answers.
What can this mean?

OTTILIA.
Fainter and fainter still!—
And no one comes!—

AMELROSA.
Hark! 'Twas a groan! whence came it? [Seeing Ottilia.]
Stranger, look up!



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OTTILIA.
A voice! Oh! blessed sound!
Whoe'er thou art, mark well my dying words;
A villain's hand ...... I'm wounded ......

AMELROSA.
Gracious Heaven!
Oh! let me fly for aid. .....

OTTILIA.
All aid were vain.
Stay! Mark! Revenge!— [Taking a paper from her bosom.]

This paper ... take it ... bear it
Swift to the Royal Tower—lose not a moment—
Insist to see the King—take no denial,
For 'tis of most dear import.

AMELROSA.
Sure! It must be ...?
Ottilia!

OTTILIA.
[Starting up wildly.]
Heaven, who speaks? 'Tis she herself!
My victim, 'tis my victim!—Dost thou live then?
Hast thou escaped ...... Spare me, thou God of mercy!
Oh! spare me this one crime!—

AMELROSA.
What means this passion?
How wild she eyes me! How she grasps my hand!

OTTILIA.
Answer, and bless me! Say thou didst not drink it!
Say Inis did not ... While I speak, the blood
Fades from thy cheek! Thine eyes close! Dying pangs
Distort thy features! Pangs like those which shortened

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His life, whose angry ghost, grim, fierce, and ghastly,
Comes gliding yonder! See his livid finger
Points to the poisoned cup! He frowns and threatens!
Pray for me, angel! Pray for me! I dare not!

AMELROSA.
Alas! poor wretch!

OTTILIA.
Help! help! The spectre grasps me,
And folds me to his breast, where the worm feeds!
He tears my heart strings!—Now he sinks, he sinks,
And sinking grasps me still! and drags me down with him,
A thousand fathom deep!—Oh! lost! lost! lost.

[Dies.
AMELROSA.
She's gone!—Sure earth affords no sight more awful,
Than when a sinner dies—She named the King!—
Perhaps this writing. .... By yon favouring lamp
I'll find its meaning.

[Ascending the chapel steps.
Enter ORSINO.
ORSINO.
Aided by the night
The villain has escaped me. [Seeing Amelrosa, who, while reading by the lamp suspended in the chapel-porch, expresses the most violent agitation.]
Princess!—Ha!

Why thus alarmed?— [Amelrosa gives him the paper in silence, with a look of agony.]
This paper?—Heaven, what's this? [Reading.]

—“My King, Cæsario plots your destruction:—A


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mine is formed in the Claudian vaults, beneath the
Royal Tower, and which the conspirators mean to
spring this night. This warning will enable you to
defeat their purpose: Accept it as an atonement for
the crimes of the dying Guzman. The mine is appointed
to be sprung, when the clock strikes one.”—


[The letter falls from his hand.
AMELROSA.
[Rushing from the chapel in despair.]
One! One!—'Tis that already!—Oh! He's lost!
My father's lost!—Ere we can reach his chamber,
Twill sink in flames!

ORSINO.
That must be tried—Say, Princess,
How may I gain admittance to the King,
Nor meet delay?

AMELROSA.
This signet ... [Giving a ring.]


ORSINO.
'Tis enough.
Know you the Claudian vaults?

AMELROSA.
I do.

ORSINO.
Away then!
Reach them with speed! cling round Cæsario, kneel,
Weep, threaten, soothe, implore! to rouse his feelings
Use every art; at least delay his purpose,
Till thou shalt hear this bugle sound; that signal
Shall speak Alfonso safe.—Farewell.


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AMELROSA.
Oh! Heaven!
Oh! dreadful hour!

ORSINO.
Take heart: if time allows me,
I'll save thy father: if too late ...

AMELROSA.
Then, then,
What then wilt do?

ORSINO.
What? Plunge into the flames,
And perish with my King!—Away! away!

[Exeunt severally.
 

Vide Juvenal. Satire 10.

St. Matthew, c. vi. v. 6: “When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.”