University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A Prison.
Cortez in Chains. Guyomar enters with a sheathed sword in his hand.
Guard.
You pass not here, my lord.

Guy.
Give me way, friend;
Behold your emperor's signet!—Where's your prisoner?
My friend, my brother!—
[Runs and embraces Cortez.
These hand were made for scepters, not for bonds—
Quick, let me loose them!

Cort.
Stay thee, Guyomar!
Thou art a subject, and a son, young man;
Thou must not, in a fit of private friendship,
Cancel the duty of those dearer ties,
That ought to bind thee to thy king and country.
I prize not freedom at so high a cost,
As the dishonour of my friend!

Guy.
O great,
And glorious ever!—Yes, I know it, Cortez,
Well do I know, that, if the gods have doom'd
The final ruin of our ancient empire,
'Tis that right hand, alone, that has the power
To shake it from its base.—But, O, the empire,
Even of the world, were joyless, if obtain'd
By mean ingratitude—the chains of him,
Who granted life and freedom to his binders!

Cort.
No more—these manacles and I are friends,
Till we can part on terms not quite inglorious.

Guy.
Think not that I am come without commission:
I bear the royal mandate, even the seal
Of grateful Montezuma, who consents
To the enlargement of the only foe,
Whom he has cause to fear.

Cort.
Then, let him come,
And with his proper hand strike off my shackles.

Guy.
My brother, stand not, thus, upon punctilio.
Your precious life's in peril! You have slain
The last male hope of the imperial house
Of fallen Traxalla; and the fierce Almeria
Thirsts for your blood, as gaping fields for rain
In summer's fervour.—Haste—my fears and friendship
Concur to force you hence!—The night is dark,
And helps to skreen you from her darker purpose.

[Unbinds him.
Cort.
Beware!—Remember,
I gage for no conditions, while I stand
On hostile ground.

Guy.
Even as you lift, so be it!
If peace, when next we meet, I'll greet you thus—
[Embraces.
If war, I know where Cortez may be found—
Even in the front of battle I will face him,
And on his temper'd helmet prove the worth
Of this his late donation!

[Puts his hand on his sword.
Cort.
When you are fallen,
I think I shall not fear another bar,
In my high road to-conquest!

Guy.
Take your sword.
Would that I were a tutor, fit to teach
That right arm in its manage!—Hither, soldier!
Here is the signet of our emperor—
Conduct his friend, in secret, through the gate
That opens on the camp.—Be faithful, thou,
I shall not be forgetful!—

Cort.
Fare you well.

[Exit with the Soldier.
A Chief of Mexico enters disguised.
Mex.
Where is my prince, where's Guyomar?

Guy.
Who asks?—
What, Adramelech, shrouded in the cloud
Of a slave's habit?—

Mex.
Yes. This hook and cord
Help'd me to scale our wall, and let me down,
Where I surrender'd to the Spanish watch,
As a deserter. I was straight convey'd
To the proud tent, wherein their captains sate
In midnight council.—Time cuts off my tale.—
I gain'd their confidence—they rest assured
Of sudden conquest; and, in riot, spend
The short remainder of the night.—Be speedy!
If we succeed, and seize them at their banquet,
Yet, ere another hour shall pass, they enter
The northern gate in chains!—

Guy.
O, hero, patriot, Mexico's first boast!
[Embraces
I have, yet, a band of friends, who will not fail us.—
For glory let us haste—for country, kindred,
For liberty, for virtue!—

[Exeunt.