 | Poems, dramatic and miscellaneous |  |
129
SCENE V.
DON JUAN DE PADILLA and DON PEDRO.Pedro.
Toledo's banners reach the pendant skies,
And kiss the winds, and hail the work begun:
I sicken for the signal to the field,
When a decisive conflict must ensue;
I burn, I languish, till the tyrant falls,
With all the flatt'rers that surround his throne.
Don Juan.
Be temperate in words, but bold in deeds;
Most men are brave till courage has been try'd,
And boast of virtue till their price is known:—
But thirst of gold—the cursed thirst of gold,
Which plunder'd Mexico of all its wealth,
And broil'd her valiant sons in quest of more,
Is a severer tyrant of the mind,
Than coarser vice that mark'd our simpler state,
Ere cruel Spain explor'd that distant world.
Then golden bribes corrupted not the mind;
No son of Castile, or of Arragon,
E'er sold his honour, or relinquish'd fame,
For soft refinements that flow in with wealth,
Nor stoop'd to wear the liv'ry of a slave.
Pedro.
Let not a coward, or a knave be spar'd.
Who shrouds his head from danger or from death,
When freedom's cause stands trembling on the sword.
130
Tomorrow gives a glorious test of worth;
Courage will shine conspicuously bright,
Or guilt may shake and dash the nerveless arm,
That draws a sword to massacre the brave.
Pedro.
Virtue's fair image then will shield thy head,
And animate the man who dare be free.
[Flourish of trumpets, and alarm without.
Don Juan.
The hostile clarion summons to the field.
[Pedro greatly agitated.
Hah!—pale and trembling at the trumpet's sound!—
Pedro, haste on, and take thy destin'd post,
'Twill lead to glory, conquest, and to fame;
To sure renown, if valour guides thy arm;
But certain infamy, disgrace and death,
If treason lurks beneath the guise of zeal.
[Exit Don Juan.
Don Pedro,
solus.
Curse on Don Juan's penetrating eye—
He's prob'd my soul—suspects I am a villain:—
'Tis true that envy of his fame at first,
Bound the bright helmet on Don Pedro's brow,
And not the bubble freedom—empty name!—
'Tis all a puff—a visionary dream—
That kindles up this patriotic flame;
'Tis rank self love, conceal'd beneath a mask
Of public good. The hero's brain inflates—
He cheats himself by the false medium,
Held in virtue's guise, till he believes it just:
But the vile rabble—the plebeian race,
Made for the yoke, bend like the servile mule,
And own mankind were made for slaves to power.
He's prob'd my soul—suspects I am a villain:—
'Tis true that envy of his fame at first,
Bound the bright helmet on Don Pedro's brow,
And not the bubble freedom—empty name!—
'Tis all a puff—a visionary dream—
That kindles up this patriotic flame;
'Tis rank self love, conceal'd beneath a mask
Of public good. The hero's brain inflates—
He cheats himself by the false medium,
Held in virtue's guise, till he believes it just:
But the vile rabble—the plebeian race,
Made for the yoke, bend like the servile mule,
And own mankind were made for slaves to power.
131
A waxen pillar in the central point
Of sol's meridian beams, melts not so fast,
As will their army waste by court intrigues,
By fraud, by bribes, by flattery and fear:
A slow campaign ensures success to Charles—
A weak, plebeian, discontented band,
Will soon grow weary, and desert their chiefs.
I will retard, embarrass, and delay;
Sow discord round, while they inactive lie:
Then fly secure to Don Urano's roof.
My sire detests this noisy factious rout,
And opes his arms to welcome my return;
And Don Velasco pays a noble price—
His price would bribe a prince to quit his crown.
Of sol's meridian beams, melts not so fast,
As will their army waste by court intrigues,
By fraud, by bribes, by flattery and fear:
A slow campaign ensures success to Charles—
A weak, plebeian, discontented band,
Will soon grow weary, and desert their chiefs.
I will retard, embarrass, and delay;
Sow discord round, while they inactive lie:
Then fly secure to Don Urano's roof.
My sire detests this noisy factious rout,
And opes his arms to welcome my return;
And Don Velasco pays a noble price—
His price would bribe a prince to quit his crown.
Let nations sink—posterity be thrall'd—
Vice reign triumphant—liberty expire—
May I but humble haughty Juan's pride,
And gain Louisa—as the bless'd reward.
Vice reign triumphant—liberty expire—
May I but humble haughty Juan's pride,
And gain Louisa—as the bless'd reward.
[Exit.
| Poems, dramatic and miscellaneous | |