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Alfonso, King of Castile

A Tragedy In Five Acts
  
  
  
  
  

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ACT V.


91

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The interior of Orsino's hermitage.
Alfonso is discovered sleeping.
Enter ORSINO and RICARDO.
ORSINO.
Come they in force?

RICARDO.
At least five thousand strong,
But stronger far in loyalty than numbers.
Scarce heard my tale, clamours of rage and pity
Burst from the crowd, and every peasant swore
He'd perish or preserve that sovereign's rights,
Who used them ever for the poor man's good.

ORSINO.
Honest Ricardo! When to serve thy King
I judged thee truest of the true, I erred not.
The lords to whom I sent thee, what reception
Found'st thou from them?

RICARDO.
Such as almost would prove,
Ingratitude is not the vice of Courts:
But when I said, Orsino was to head them,
Their zeal, their joy. ...

ORSINO.
No more.—Are they at hand?


92

RICARDO.
An hour will bring them here.

ORSINO.
We'll then tow'rds Burgos,
And ere the swarth Castilian sees the sun
Pour on his rip'ning vines meridian beams,
Cæsario's royal dream shall close for ever!
[Looking on Alfonso.]
—He sleeps!—Oh! come, all ye who envy monarchs,

Look on yon bed of leaves, and thank Heaven's kindness!
Which saved ye from the sorrows of a throne.

RICARDO.
My dear, my injured master!

ORSINO.
Go, Ricardo,
Watch for our friends; and when from yonder rock
Thou see'st their forces, warn me.

[Exit Ricardo.
ORSINO.
[To Alfonso.]
Canst thou sleep,
And sleep thus soundly on so rude a pallet?
There's many a prince (whose couch is strown with roses,)
Finds their sweet leaves but serve to harbour aspics:
There's many a conqueror stretched on down, who passes
The live-long night to woo repose in vain,
And view with aching, restless, sated eyes,
The trophies which nod round his crimson bed.
But fraud, ambition, treachery, plots, and murder,
In vain would banish his repose, who sleeps
Watched by his prospering kingdom's anxious angel,
And lull'd to slumber by his people's prayers.
But see!—He wakes!— [Lowering his vizor.]



93

ALFONSO.
[Waking.]
Do what thou wilt, Cæsario,
But harm not my poor child!—How now!—Where am I?
—What place .... I see it all!—Lo! where he stands,
Whose well-timed warning snatched me from the flames,
And led me hither.—Say, thou dread preserver,
Mysterious stranger, ease a father's anguish;
How fares it with my child? What news from Burgos?

ORSINO.
Burgos believes thee dead! Cæsario fills
Thy vacant throne. ...

ALFONSO.
I ask not of my throne!
My child! Oh! say, my child. ...?

ORSINO.
Is safe, is well,
And hopes ere long to see her sire once more
Adorned with regal pomp, and lord of Burgos.

ALFONSO.
Alas! vain hope!

ORSINO.
Not so: thy faithful nobles,
By me apprized, now haste to give thee succour:
Ere night, Cæsario falls! and, piercing his,
Thy just revenge shall print a mortal wound
On his proud father's heart.

ALFONSO.
His father's?

ORSINO.
Aye!

94

On his, who paid thy love this morn with curses,
Spurning thy proffered friendship—Know'st thou not,
Cæsario is Orsino's son?

ALFONSO.
Just heavens!
And does Orsino love him?

ORSINO.
Dearly, dearly!
Loves him to madness! Loves him with like fury,
As hates he thee!—Oh! Glorious field for vengeance!
Think, how 'twill writhe his haughty soul to hear,
This son, this darling, perished on the scaffold,
Branded, disgraced, a traitor, a foiled traitor!
Joy, joy, Alfonso! Ere 'tis night, thy wrath
Shall gorge itself with blood.

ALFONSO.
Now blessings on thee,
Who giv'st me more than all my foes can take!
Come, come, my friend! where are these troops? Away!
Forward to Burgos!

ORSINO.
[Detaining him.]
Whither now?

ALFONSO.
To Burgos!
Down with the walls! Make once Cæsario mine. .....

ORSINO.
And then ......?

ALFONSO.
I'll seek his father, grasp his hand,
And say,—“This stripling stole my darling daughter,

95

“Betrayed my confidence, usurped my throne,
“Aimed at my life, and almost broke my heart:
“But he's Orsino's son! Orsino loves him,
“And all's forgiven.”— [Orsino kneels, takes the King's hand, and presses it to his lips.]
—How now?


ORSINO.
[Raising his vizor.]
All is forgiven!

ALFONSO.
'Tis he!—Orsino's self!

ORSINO.
My pride is vanquished:
My King!—Thy hand, my King!

ALFONSO.
My heart, my heart!
There find thy place, and never leave it more.
Oh! from my joy again to name thee friend,
Judge of my grief to think thou wert my foe!
How could I doubt thee? How commit an error
So gross ......!

ORSINO.
No more! E'en now thou pay'st its penance:
In this long chain of present woes, that error
(Which seems at first so light) was the first link.
It tore me from my son: Else, reared by me,
Formed in thy Court, and schooled by my example,
My son must sure have proved thy truest subject.
Oh! Learn from this, how weighty is the charge,
A monarch bears; how nice a task to guide
His power aright, to guide it wrong how fatal!
If subjects sin, with them the crime remains,

96

With them the penance; but when monarchs err,
The mischief spreads swift as their kingdom's rivers,
Strong as their power, and wide as their domains.

Enter RICARDO.
ORSINO.
Now, friend?

RICARDO.
From yonder height I caught distinctly
The gleam of arms.

ORSINO.
'Tis well—Away, my sovereign,
And join your troops; then shape your march tow'rds Burgos,
Nor doubt the event, for who that loves his Country,
To save his King shall fear to die himself?
None, surely none! The patriot-glow shall catch
From heart to heart throughout Castile, as swiftly
As sparks of fire disperse through summer-forests;
Till all in care of thee forget themselves,
And every good man's bosom bucklers thine!
Forward, my king!—Lead on!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A chamber in the palace.
Enter HENRIQUEZ and MELCHIOR.
MELCHIOR.
And the grave council
Fell blindfold in the snare?


97

HENRIQUEZ.
They could not fail,
So well Cæsario spread it—With such art
He told his tale, and in such glowing colours
Painted Alfonso's worth, and his son's guilt,
That all cried vengeance on the Prince Don Pedro,
And bade Cæsario mount his forfeit throne.

MELCHIOR.
And he, no doubt, obeyed?

HENRIQUEZ.
In modest guise
He owned his union with the Princess gave him
Some rights, but vowed, so heavy seemed its weight,
He feared to wear a Crown, so prayed them spare him:
Till won by urgent prayer at length he yielded,
And kindly deigned to be a King.

MELCHIOR.
He's here,
And Bazil with him.

Enter CÆSARIO, Father BAZIL, and Attendants.
CÆSARIO.
[Entering.]
Bid her rest assured,
Her King is her first subject. But, good father,
How bears her health this shock? Say, looks she pale?
Does she e'er name ......?

BAZIL.
She bade me lead thee hither,
And claimed my promise not to tell thee more
I'll warn her, thou art here. [Going.]



98

CÆSARIO.
Say too, my heart
Shares every pang of her's; that Crowns are worthless
Bought with her tears; that could my prayers, my blood,
Restore Alfonso's life. .....

BAZIL.
Hold!—On that subject
What thou wouldst tell her, will come best from thee.

[Exit.
CÆSARIO.
Ha!—Meant he ...... No! Sure had he known my secret,
The monk had canted 'gainst the guilt of treason,
Thundering out saint-like curses!—Vile, vile chance,
Which led the Princess ...... Yet what fear I now?
She keeps my secret: then she loves me still,
And, loving, must forgive me—Hark! I hear her.—
Now, all ye powers of bland persuasion, shed
Your honey on my lips! Come to my aid,
Ye soft memorials of departed pleasures,
Kind words, fond looks, sweet tears, and melting kisses!
Sighs of compassion, drown her anger's voice!
Smooth ye her frown, smiles of delight and love!
Make her but mine once more, and this day crowns me
Monarch of all my soul e'er wished from fate:
Yes, in my wildest dreams I asked but this,
“Love and Revenge! A Throne and Amelrosa!”—
Retire!—I dread to meet her.

[Henriquez, &c. Exeunt.

99

AMELROSA enters, pale, and leaning on Father BAZIL.— ESTELLA, INIS, and Ladies, follow weeping.
AMELROSA.
'Tis enough,
Good Father, and one task performed, I'll meet
That hour with joy which seems to guilt so fearful.
Leave me awhile: Anon, if time allows it,
We'll talk again—Farewell, my friends.

INIS.
[Kneeling.]
Oh! Princess!
Oh! Royal victim!

AMELROSA.
Nay, be calm, my Inis.
Pass a few years, and all had been as now,
Perhaps far worse: receive this kiss of pardon,
And give it back in Heaven!—Farewell!

[Exeunt Estella, &c.
Manent CÆSARIO and AMELROSA.
CÆSARIO.
How grief
Has changed her! Ah! how sunk her eyes! her cheeks
How pale!—She comes!—How shall I bear her anguish!

AMELROSA.
Not to reproach, for that you sought a life,
Which you well knew I prized above my own;
Not to complain, that when my heart reposed
On you for all its earthly joys, you broke it,

100

I seek you now: but with true zeal I come
To warn thee, yea with tears implore thee, turn
From those most dangerous paths, which now thou tread'st.
Oh! wake, my husband! Close thy guilty dream;
Be just, be good! be what till now I thought thee!
That when we part (as ere two hours we must)
We may not part for ever.

CÆSARIO.
How to answer,
Or in what words excuse ......! Could my best blood
Wash out thy knowledge of my fault. .....

AMELROSA.
My knowledge?
And say, on earth none knew it! Say, thy crime
To eye of man were viewless as the winds,
And secret as the laws which rule the dead:
Could'st hide it from thyself?—Would not He know it,
Whose knowledge more than all thou ought to dread,
His, who knows all things?—Oh! short-sighted mortals!
Oh! vain precautions! Oh! mis-judging sense!
Man thinks his secret safe, for no ear heard it!
Man thinks his act unknown, for no eye saw it!
But there was One above both saw and heard,
When neither ear could hear, nor eye could see.

CÆSARIO.
Thou lovely moralist!—Oh! take me! school me!
Mould thou my heart, and make it like thine own.


101

AMELROSA.
Dost thou speak truth?

CÆSARIO.
Be that one act forgiven,
And prove. .....

AMELROSA.
Oh! That were light: As yet thou'rt guilty
In thought alone: My father lives!

CÆSARIO.
Indeed!

AMELROSA.
He starts!—He feigned!—Oh! for Heaven's love, my husband,
Trifle not now! This hour is precious, precious!
My soul is winged for Heaven, and stays its flight,
In hopes of teaching thine the way to follow:
Let not its stay be vain! Let my tears win thee,
And turn from vice: Repent! Be wise, be warned;
For 'tis no idle voice that gives the warning;
I speak it from the grave!

CÆSARIO.
The grave!

AMELROSA.
What fear'st thou?
Why shudder at a name?—Oh! If thou needs
Wilt tremble, tremble for thyself, not me.
I die to live; thy death may be for ever!
Short are my pangs; thy soul's may be eternal!


102

CÆSARIO.
Die?—Die!—Each word ... Each look ..... Dreadful suspicious. .....
But no! It cannot, shall not be!

AMELROSA.
It shall not?
As I've a soul, in one short hour, Cæsario,
That soul must kneel before the throne of God.

CÆSARIO.
Mean'st thou. .....

AMELROSA.
E'en so; I'm poisoned!

CÆSARIO.
Torture! Madness!
Within there!

Re-enter Father BAZIL, ESTELLA, &c.
CÆSARIO.
Help, Oh! help! The Princess dies!
I'll speed myself. .....

AMELROSA.
[Detaining him.]
No, no, thou must not leave me:
My hour of death is near, and thou must see it. ...

CÆSARIO.
Distraction!

AMELROSA.
Must observe, how calm the transit,
How light the pain, how free death's cup from bitter,
When virtue soothes, and hope exalts the soul.

103

I've seen a sinner die: Last night I closed
Ottilia's lids, and 'twas a sight of horror!
Each limb, each nerve was writhed by strange convulsions,
Clenched were her teeth, her eye-balls fixed and glaring;
She foamed, she raved, and her last words were curses!—
But look, Cæsario!—I can die, and smile!

[Sinks into Estella's arms.
CÆSARIO.
[In despair.]
My life!—My soul!—

AMELROSA.
[In a faint voice.]
But while one moment's mine,
By all thy vows of love, by those I breathed,
And never broke through life, never, no, never,
I charge thee, I conjure thee. .....
[Starting suddenly forward.]
Powers of mercy,
Whence this so glorious blaze?

CÆSARIO.
How her eyes sparkle!

AMELROSA.
Look, friends! Look, look!—My mother, my dead mother,
Rich in new youth, and bright in lasting beauty!
She floats in air; her limbs are clothed with light!
Her angel-head is wreathed with Eden's roses!
Heaven's splendours rove amid her golden locks,
While her blest lips and radiant eyes pour round her
Airs of delight and floods of placid glory!

104

She moves!—She smiles!—She lifts her hand!—She beckons!
World, fare thee well!—Mother, lead on!—I follow!

[Exit with Estella, &c.
CÆSARIO.
[Alone.]
My brain! my brain!—Oh! I ne'er knew till now,
How well I loved her!— [Following her.]


Enter HENRIQUEZ.
HENRIQUEZ.
Turn, Cæsario, turn!
We're lost! Alfonso lives; e'en now his troops
Assail our walls.

CÆSARIO.
Confusion! Is all Hell
Combined. .......

Enter MELCHIOR.
MELCHIOR.
Betrayed, betrayed! The gates are opened;
The townsmen join our foes; I saw the King
First in the sight. ....

CÆSARIO.
The King?—My brain is burning;
I'll cool it with his blood.—Forth, forth, my sword:
Forth, nor be sheathed till I return thee dyed
With royal gore—Away!

[Exeunt Henriquez and Melchior; Cæsario is following, when Amelrosa shrieks from within: he stops, and remains motionless.]
AMELROSA.
Within.]
Oh! Mercy, mercy!

INIS.
[Within.]
She dies!


105

ESTELLA.
[Within.]
Nay, hold her! hold her down!

AMELROSA.
[Within.]
Oh!—Oh!
[Solemn requiem chaunted within.]
Peace to the parted saint! Pure soul, farewell!

[The scene closes.]

SCENE III.

A field of battle—alarums—thunder and lightning.
Soldiers cross the stage fighting.
Enter ORSINO.
ORSINO.
Oh! shame, shame, shame!—Sun, thou dost well to hide thee,
Nor light Castile's disgrace.—Oh! I could tear
My flesh for rage!

Enter RICARDO.
RICARDO.
All's lost!—the foe prevails!
What must be done, Orsino?

ORSINO.
Where's the King?

RICARDO.
He fights still.

ORSINO.
Seek him! save him! bid him fly,
Fly with all speed: thou know'st to find his courser.
Away!

RICARDO.
General, thou'rt wounded!


106

ORSINO.
'Tis no matter.

RICARDO.
Thou'lt bleed to death. ....

ORSINO.
And if I should, I care not:
The King, the King!—Oh! waste no thought on me:
The best of subjects can but lose one life,
But thousands perish when a good King bleeds.
Nay, speed!

RICARDO.
[Looking out.]
See! see! Our troops. ....

ORSINO.
They fly, by Heaven!
Turn, turn, ye cowards! 'Tis Orsino calls!
Follow, slaves, follow me, and die, or conquer!

[Soldiers enter pursued by Henriquez, &c. Orsino rallies them, and drives Henriquez back.]

SCENE IV.

Before the walls of Burgos.—The storm continues.
Enter CÆSARIO.
CÆSARIO.
Shall I ne'er find him? Shall my mother's spirit
Still ask revenge in vain? This flame, which burn
My blood up, shall it ne'er be quench'd with his?
'Tis he! 'tis he!—I see the high plume waving
O'er his crowned helmet:—Thunders, cease, nor rob me
Of his expiring shriek!—Turn, turn, Alfonso!

[Exit.
[Shouts of victory.]

107

Enter HENRIQUEZ, MELCHIOR, MARCOS, GOMEZ, and Soldiers.
HENRIQUEZ.
We triumph, Melchior!—See our trusty squadrons
Range the field unopposed. But where's our chief?

MARCOS.
How now! what clamour. ....

MELCHIOR.
Look, Henriquez, look!
Cæsario and the King in single combat!

HENRIQUEZ.
They come this way!—Hark, with their ponderous blows
How their shields ring!—Cæsario loses ground!
Yield thee, Alfonso!— [Interposing between Alfonso and Cæsario, who enter fighting.


CÆSARIO.
Back, I say! Back, back!
No arm but mine. ....

ALFONSO.
Cæsario, pause, and hear me!
Whate'er thou wilt. .....

CÆSARIO.
Thy life!

ALFONSO.
Medina's dukedom,
And Amelrosa. ....

CÆSARIO.
Flames consume the tongue,
That names her! Thou hast rent my wound anew,

108

Recalling what was mine, but is no longer!
Look to thy heart, for, if my sword can reach it,
Thou diest!—Come on!— [They sight; Alfonso loses his sword, and is beaten on his knees.]


CÆSARIO.
Thou'rt mine!—and thus. ....

[At the moment that he motions to stab Alfonso, Orsino, without his helmet, deadly pale, and bleeding profusely, rushes in, and arrests his arm.]
ORSINO.
Hold! hold!

CÆSARIO.
My father bleeding! Horror!

ORSINO.
Does that pain thee?
Oh! by this blood, (a father's blood, the same
Which fills thy veins, and feeds thy life) I charge thee,
Shed not thy King's.

CÆSARIO.
Father, thy prayers are vain!
He broke my mother's heart! his own must bleed for't!
Release my arm!

ORSINO.
My son, I kiss thy feet:

109

Thy father kneels; let him not kneel in vain.
—Nay, if thou stirr'st, my deadliest curse. ....

CÆSARIO.
'Twill grieve me,
But yet e'en that I'll brave:—Curse; still I'll strike!
No more!

ORSINO.
Can nought appease thee .....?

CÆSARIO.
Nothing! nothing!

ALFONSO.
Nay, cease, Orsino: 'tis in vain. ....

CÆSARIO.
True, true!
This to thy heart.

ORSINO.
Oh! yet arrest thy sword!
My son. ....

CÆSARIO.
He dies!

ORSINO.
One word! But one!

CÆSARIO.
Dispatch then!

ORSINO.
Swear, ere you strike the blow, if still your power
Answers your will, as now it does, the King
Has not an hour to live!

CÆSARIO.
An hour?—An age!
Thrones shall not buy that hour.—By Hell, I swear,
Alfonso breathes his last, if fate allows me
To live one moment more!


110

ORSINO.
[Stabbing him.]
Then die this moment.

CÆSARIO.
My heart! my heart!—Oh! oh!

[Falls lifeless at Orsino's feet.]
ALFONSO.
What hast thou done?

ORSINO.
Preserved Castile in thee!

MELCHIOR.
Hew him to pieces!

HENRIQUEZ.
Monster, thy son. ....

ORSINO.
He was so; yet I slew him.
Think ye, I loved him not?—Oh! Heaven, the blood
My breast now pours, gives me not half such pain
As that which stains this poniard: yet I slew him,
I, I his father!—And as I with him,
So, traitors, shall your Father deal with ye,
Your Father who frowns yonder.— [Thunder.]
—Hark! He speaks!

The avenger speaks, and stretches from the clouds
His red right-arm.—See, see! His javelins fly,
And fly to strike you dead!—While yet 'tis time,
Down, rebels, down!—Tremble, repent, and tremble!
Fall at your sovereign's feet, and sue for grace!

[The Conspirators sink on their knees.]
ALFONSO.
Oh! Soul of Honour!—Oh! my full, full heart!
Orsino! Friend!—


111

ORSINO.
No more!—Thy hand!—Farewell.
Life ebbs apace—Oh! lay me by my son,
That I may bless him, ere I die—Pale, pale!
No warmth!—No sense!—Not one convulsive throb!
Not one last lingering breath on those wan lips!
All gone! All, all!—So fair, so young! to die
Was hard, most hard! Canst thou forgive thy father,
Canst thou, my boy? He loved thee dearly, dearly,
And would to save thy life have died himself,
Though he had rather see thee dead than guilty.
My sand runs fast.—Oh! I am sick at soul!
I'll breathe my last sigh on my son's cold lips,
Clasp his dead hand in mine, and lay my heart
Close to his gaping wound, that it may break
'Gainst his dear breast.—My eyes grow faint and clouded.
I see thy face no more, my boy, but still
Feel thy blood trickle!—Oh! that pang, that pang!
'Tis done—All's dark!—My son, my son, my son!

[Dies.
 

Should Mr. Harris execute his present intention of producing this Tragedy at Covent-Garden Theatre, the remainder of this Act will be omitted, and a new catastrophe substituted, better calculated for representation.

END OF THE FIFTH ACT.