University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.

A chamber in Xavier's house, with a casement, overlooking the Ebro.
Enter Isabella and an attendant Jewess.
Isa.
Kind girl! thou cheer'st the sorrows of my prison;
And of a princess hast the affections won,
By delicate attentions—such as make
Happiest life swifter, and sad days less slow;
I'll think the better of thy race for this
Long as I live; or Jew, or Christian—
In the kind heart grows true fidelity;
And amiable virtue has no creed
And owns no sect. I thank thee, gentle girl.

Jew.
Madam, that service that rewards itself,
Takes thanks, for bounty too superfluous:
Would I could do your grace more benefit!

Isa.
And that thou may'st, perchance. Now, leave me, dear!
For I have many thoughts that should be lonely.
I'll call thee if I want thee: love me, girl.

Jew.
Tell me to love myself—there is like need.

[Exit.
Isa.
I might not think, with Rachel's hated name,
Form, voice and feature in my memory,
I e'er could love a Jewess; but this maiden
Hath so heart-dew'd my hours of solitude
With tears and smiles of kindness, that my nature
Turns answeringly to hers. O, much the need
I yet may have of her sweet charity!
The morn advances; and the Ebro glides
Beneath my casement, free and happily;
But, ah! not so the river of my life!
How is't I still am here? close prisoner
To the stern upstart of a race despised,
When that the honor of the king and nobles
Goes with my freedom? I imagine all things,
And knowing nothing, am bewildered.

Enter Xavier.
Xav.
Your pardon, madam; is your highness well?

Isa.
Impudent Hebrew! What's my health to thee?

Xav.
More than your grace would dream of, credit me;
And so I have come early to enquire:
Whene'er my daughter's safety ransoms thee,
Lord Garcia the redemption sanctions not,
If thou be sick: I pray your grace, keep well.

Isa.
Am I to be a base Jew's merriment?

Xav.
Madam, I once was yours; the wheel's gone round:
But, did you know what news of life, or death
Is moving toward me on the dial's hand,
You'd wonder at my mirth. You're very fair:
I marvel that Alphonso loves thee not;—
But then, my daughter's beauty is a flower
That outblows all Spain's garden. Yet, you're fair.

Isa.
How I despise thy vulgar triumph! Jew;
Thee and thy daughter utterly despise!
And the king's fault shows more unworthily
In loving her, than in rejecting me.
Take off thy rude glance from my person, Jew!
And tell me how thou dar'st with thy vile hands
Chain here a Christian princess!

Xav.
Indeed—'tis bold.

Enter Reuben.
Reu.
The messenger is back; and at his heels
Compliance with the mandate which he bore
(By the king's signet witness'd from the king)
Is moving rapidly.

Xav.
The passions'-plaything,
Expecting life, or death—receiving life,
As I do now, would laugh, weep, leap, fall down
And rend the welkin with his ecstacy!
But I will tarry till a silent hour;
And then kneel down, and lift my joy in praise
And prayer unto the king of Israel!
Madam, I've that will carry me abroad;
But this, my kinsman and my faithful servant,
Will render thee all dues of ceremony,
That may beseem your state.

Reu.
Madam, I will.

Isa.
I'd rather be attended by a bear,
Or the most hideous ape that screams i' the wild,
Than this thy vulgar, bearded infidel!
I'm prisoner at the peril of thy life;
And prayers for vengeance from a royal lip
Rise not in vain to Heaven! I'd be alone:
Thy death will free me—and my freedom's near.

[Exit.
Xav.
Death being freedom, dame, it may be near.
Reuben, be vigilant; she flatters thee—
Let thy attentions mark thy gratitude.
The city was most quiet thro' the night—
Was it not, Reuben?

Reu.
Nought of tumult stirring;
And not a Hebrew, nor a Hebrew's house
Did suffer molestation.

Xav.
The more safe,
Christians and Christian dwellings. Be thou watchful!

Reu.
If she escape from Reuben, I will forfeit
That Reuben's life—his monies! which is more.

[Exit.
Xav.
Now, I'll go haste my Rachel to the king:
Those lords, I know, have had conditions drawn
Of government, the which 'tis their intent
To force Alphonso sign: this shall work well,
And gall resentment; then my daughter comes—
And that's approaching which shall lend him power
To wreak his vengeance and his love to the height;—
Then, where's the cloud that dare shut out my light?

[Exit.

SCENE II.

A room of state in the palace, with throne &c.
Enter Alphonso and Manrique.
Alph.
Conditions! what conditions? Back! Manrique;
Say that the king will seal to no conditions
That chain the free hand of his government:
We will not see them; we are busy—sick;
Feign what excuse you will.

Man.
Your majesty
But holds your greatness at a just account,
Not to let subjects dictate: place is place;
And those who know not, must be taught the rule
Of each man in his sphere. I'll tell my lords
Your majesty is indisposed to-day.

Alph.
Tell them, we will not listen—'twill suffice.
[Exit Manrique.
Oh! Rachel—thou wert born to be my curse,
Even as my bliss—a honey that is poison;
Thine absence weighs so heavy on my heart,
That all cares else fall on me scarce perceived.
O, for my troops! my troops!—Small ceremony,
Enter Garcia and Alvaro.
Insolent lords!

Alv.
Not hear thy ministers!
My liege, 'tis needful, then, we force the leave!
The tempest intermits—'tis not o'erpast.

Gar.
But in the grace of your great Majesty
Lives that shall make it harmless: in this parchment
There stand engross'd some small indulgences
Of rule and privilege to lords and people—
Subscribing which, restoring the wrong'd princess,
And putting in full force the Hebrews' doom,
My liege in the rich circle of his crown
Resets the jewel of his people's love.

Alph.
Certes, 'tis fit the people be indulged:
Perchance, they'd use our chambers and our gardens,
To eat, and drink, and take their pleasures in?
Be sure they shall; “indulgence” is the word:
Trench'd they upon aristocratic power,
What would my lords say then?—then would it be—
‘Vile herd,’ the ‘common nothing,’ ‘idiot brutes;’
Now 'tis ‘the people’—and, ‘their majesty’!

Alv.
Will't please your highness sign the instrument?

Alph.
Ay, without reading, sir—a royal custom.

Gar.
Not so, my liege; I do beseech thee, read;
And seeing the great need and wisdom of't,
You'll grant without ado. We'll leave you, Sire,
And to your prescence render us anon,
To know your further pleasure.

Alph.
As you will.
[Exeunt Garcia and Alvaro.
It is as if the oak bow'd to the bushes!
There's not a slave in all my Arragon
So slavish as the King of Arragon!—
Let's see this instrument—Oh! flower-sweet Rachel,
Would thou hadst pleaded more! then hadst thou triumph'd;
And tho' thy triumph had been death to both,
Still death is peace to this intense desire,
Whose fire is its own fuel. O, come now!
And snatch my sight from this vile document—
Wherein I read the downfall of a king,
Written by menial hands—to thy proud eyes,
Wherein my soul hath ceaseless coronation!

Rach.
(Entering by a secret door)
The spring is faithful of this secret door—
And here I stand, like to a sudden spirit,
Unheard—unseen. 'Tis he! I cannot speak.

Alph.
In thy full beauty glance before me now!
Step like a seraph from the veil o' the air!
And I will tread this parchment to the earth,
And own no sovereign's sovereign but my love!

Rach.
At my lord's wish.

Alph.
I am a sorcerer!
The spirit I invoked is conjured up!—
Rachel, I see thee near, and love thee near;
But yet this parchment falls not from my hand,
And no excessive joy posseseth me:
But grief, quick grief, and apprehension sad;
For what can come of this, tho' thou be here?

Rach.
My liege! three days are given us to depart,
And one is gone; that, two brief days are left
For me to part with all that's dear on earth;—
My native Arragon, to whose Christian soil
My soul clings with a fondness that's religion;
My cherish'd home; my morn and evening haunts,
Where my ambition lit me to my love—
My love to my ambition; and, oh! torture—
From thee, the royal monarch of my heart,
In whose most regal splendour I so bask'd,
As to shine sovereignly with borrow'd light:
Two little days!—Oh! let me use them, king;
Else is no joy left in eternity.

Alph.
Thy sire goes with thee.

Rach.
Ay: heaven shield us both!
O, my dear lord! upon thy lips but now
Was heavenly music, that did utter love,
Tranced to adoring, for unworthy me;
Or else my ear was cheated; or my love,
Pining into delirium, dream'd it heard;
You call'd on me—I came—and sure, to stay?

Alph.
For ever! were Alphonso that he was;
But all things meet to urge thy speedy flight
From Arragon and death: what should I be—

Rach.
A king! sire; be a king! dare to assume
That high prerogative of ample will,
Which is a monarch's birthright; let not slaves
Rebel not only 'gainst your hand, but heart;
Hold your affections free; love whom you will;
And wear again your exiled dignity,
Redeeming her you love from banishment!

Alph.
Life of my heart! O, know you not, my word,
My pledge, my truth—the honour of a king,
Are seal'd upon the sentence? Dearer yet,
Your safety and your life are centred in't.

Rach.
At length, I feel my pleading is in vain;
Poor Rachel's heart may break—Alphonso cares not:
Thus, then, I spend the value of my life—
Come, death! but never, hideous banishment!

[She draws a dagger, and offers to stab herself.
Alph.
Give me the dagger—desperate creature! give—
Thou wouldst be Beauty's beauteous suicide.
I will revoke the sentence, come what may!
Oh! let my crown and sceptre rot i' the dust!
I'll change them for a cap and simple staff;
My robes for a grey vest, and my proud throne
For the rush chair whereon the cottager
Sits the most happy king of his own heart:
There will I reign—and thou my empire, Rachel!

Rach.
To the most barren desert—the drear'st cave
That foreshows hell's feign'd gloom upon the earth,
I'll follow thee! if need; and thou shalt still
Call me thy Hebrew queen. My heart's a spirit!

King.
What have I said? I am the woman here—
And hold for real the sweet things I dream:
It cannot be; the sentence must stand firm;
Against the nobles and the people join'd,
What power have I?—My troops are far away—

[Martial music at a distance.
Rach.
Ha!

King.
Is't imagination?—God of War!
Thou steel-invested and life-wasting Mars!
Thy truant son bows homage at thy breath.
Those trumpets thunder'd o'er Toloza's fight,
When I from thee won high appellative!—
[Music nearer.
Is the sound spectred in the atmosphere?—
Dream I?—It peals again! My troops are here!

[March continues: part of the troops enter, pay homage, and line the apartment—then:
Enter Xavier.
He kneels, and places the King's signet and the mandate for their recall, in Alphonso's hands.
Xav.
Have I done well?

King.
Bold Jew! didst thou do this?

Xav.
Monarch! thy servant did: hath he done well?

King.
For which thou shalt have honour all thy life;
Thou hast the art to make a king a king!
If now our subjects feel the yoke of rule,
Let them not wince—they've taught us tyranny.
Call in our court!—We reinstate thee, Xavier,
In thy high office; and our rebel nobles
Cast to the dust! thy people we set free
From doom of exile, and their wealth and persons
Fence with protection of this warlike state.

Xav.
For which, their hearts shall bless Alphonso's name;
Their hands speak thanks with deeds, when he commands—
And heaven look down in grace on Arragon!

Alph.
(To Rachel.)
Kneel not! for thou art greater than thy king.
Enter Courtiers.
Most welcome, each! Dearest, to your high place!
[He leads her to the throne.
Bear witness all! to Rachel we commit
Our crown, and sceptre, and sway absolute;
Whilst we take rest from cares of government:
Obey her as ourself—thus on our seat
Throned in the pomp of queenly majesty!
And know 'tis our intent, in fitting time,
To wed and crown her Queen of Arragon.

Xav.
First, let a father kneel!—not to his daughter—
But to the delegated majesty
Of this great kingdom: who dares otherwise?

[Xavier and Courtiers kneel.
Rach.
Will you not sit, my lord?

Alph.
Nay; reign alone:
Thou shalt be absolute! And now, fair queen!
Power dominant of Arragon—to this,
This parchment of conditions, this base clog—
Meant to restrict the birthright of my crown—
Fix thy disdain: the lords return anon;
Give them such answer as befits the king
Reigning in thee. Alphonso 'waits thee, Rachel:
This is his heart's day of half shower, half sun;
And thou its rainbow, that with glorious beauty
Gives covenant of joy—sky-tinted hope,
That lives in the sun of things.—Away! my lords:
Take order for the chase!—Bird pleasure now
Shall mark that sadness crawls, and wonder how.

[Flourish; exeunt King and part of the Courtiers and Soldiers; the rest remaining, in attendance and guard, with Rachel.
Xav.
A silence, felt as that which broods i'the stars
In moonless heaven, falls on my daughter's heart;
A cloud of glory shades her. Ho! my lord.

Enter Manrique.
Man.
Madam, my lords, the Garcia and Alvaro,
Await the audience.

Rach.
Is't to me you speak?
Who is't that speaks? O, I remember thee—
And now my soul soars living to her place!
Art thou not he, who when a woman cried
On thee for succour, in an hour of need,
Didst cowardly skulk aback?—Art thou not he?

Xav.
Sweet Rachel, sure not he?—he's very brave.

Man.
Madam, it was a fault; and all my life
Hereafter dedicate to your sweet service,
Must make amends for't: I am awed before you;
And that divinity of nature in you
Constrains me even to worship.

Rach.
Even so?
Out of my sight!

[Exit Manrique.
Xav.
They come! my enemies come!
O, what a triumph sits wing'd upon my heart!
Daughter, be all thyself—I'm at thy side.

[Leans on the throne, at Rachel's righthand.
Rach.
Thy blood is in my veins; and a king's sceptre
In my firm hand.

Enter Alvaro and Citizens.
Alv.
Thy faithful subjects, sire—
Now, God of Heaven! what infamy is this?

Enter Garcia and other Citizens.
Gar.
Hath the king signed—O, Garcia's eyes are mock'd!
His sight's the fool of fear.

Rach.
(Rising)
What! are ye stone?—
Do ye not know me?—I am Xavier's daughter—
Rachel, the Jewess!—not your queen, but greater!—
She that's omnipotent in Arragon!—
Acts with Alphonso's power—speaks with his voice!
Alvaro, look on Xavier!—thoud'st have slain him;
Garcia, thy coward sword was at my heart;
I fill a guarded and despotic throne—
Do ye not quail with terror?

Alv.
Gods! gods! gods!

Gar.
That this should be!

Rach.
Ye are degraded, lords—
Pull'd down from your high places!—And to this—
This insolent-writ rebellion, this vile breath
Raised 'gainst the sky of power, this petty scrawl—
Thus I make answer as befits the king
Whose greatness speaks by me; thus, in the dust!
Low as ye shall be, Christian murderers!
[Dashes the parchment at their feet.
Now, get ye hence! and dread what is to come!

[Descends the steps of the throne, as going.
Xav.
Most noble Christians! why, ye stand amazed!
Three days ye gave us to depart, my lords;
We had been ungrateful not to use them well:
The princess I will not give up by sunset—
That's she you'd have for queen—so, sword and fire
And banded citizens must serve ye now,
To kill poor Jews, and burn their silent homes:
I prithee, set about it—and by times,
Lest that ye lose the advantage—loftier necks
Have crouch'd beneath the tread of Israel!
Vengeance, long sleeping, shall now wake for ever—
And shake her red locks in the face of wrong!
Attend us, ho! My royal daughter, come!

[Flourish; exeunt all in due array. Garcia, Alvaro, and Citizens remain, standing in wonder and confusion.
Alv.
Why do we stand like statue-gods in gardens,
Stock and stone-still, as if we had not hearts!

Gar.
This master-policy of that Jew king—
That plague of Arragon! whose ambition
Climbs by the ladder of his daughter's beauty,
Hath stricken me dumb with marvel: they must fall!
We not believed the trumpet when it spoke—
But, lo! the troops are come. They must both die!

Alv.
And quickly: let's about it!—matters now
Come to this point—'tis Jew, or Christian!

Enter Manrique, with a paper.
Man.
I grieve to be so black a messenger:
This dooms my noble lords to banishment
From ground of Arragon. Farewell, my lords:
My prayers shall not be idle for your safety.

Gar.
You're a base lord.

Alv.
A Hebrew wench's lap dog!

Man.
'Tis but a sweet variety of air!
Mine is a surface from which rough things slip
As well as gentle—save your courtesy!
So I but prosper, and maintain my place
(A touchy matter, as your lordships know)
My heraldry's nought tarnish'd to the world.
Ye're worthy nobles: may ye better know
The gentle humour of prosperity!

[Exit.
Alv.
Hang him!

Gar.
Let each man draw his sword—and here
Kneel with the Garcia, and to righteous heaven
Swear or to die, or cast out to the dogs
The Hebrew and his daughter: kneel—and swear!

[Drawing his sword and kneeling.
Alv. and Citizens
(idem)
We swear!

Gar.
Listen! Alphonso hunts, ere long,
Some leagues from Saragossa, it is said:
The soldiers (I did note it heedfully)
Frown with a deep and sullen discontent,
That scowls aversion to this Hebrew yoke:
The king away, they're ours! Now, with the Jews
Soon comes a day of highest festival;
And to their temple one and all will throng—
And Xavier, as their chieftain and high priest,
With his proud daughter—even the Hebrew Queen—
Be sure, will there make show of his stolen pomp,
And vaunt the greatness of his ministry
In (what he calls) the eyes of Israel.

Alv.
Our quick thoughts meet: we, with the citizens
Will gird their temple, and destroy them all!

Citz.
All!

Gar.
Utterly! else not a Christian's safe;
And we shall soon be butcher'd in our beds:
This doom of exile is a speaking prelude.
The princess' escape is plann'd; and sight of her
Shall strike the people into phrensy! Come:
Ere many suns shall set, we're dead—or free!

[Exeunt.