University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

The Same. The Great Hall of the Castle. Leonor de Guzman discovered seated in state, surrounded by Don Juan De Lara, Don Fernando de Villena, Don Tello, Courtiers, Knights, Ladies, Men-at-Arms, &c. Don Juan de Lara is in the act of investing Don Tello with a crimson Scarf, the order of “La Banda.”
Lara.
Arise, Don Tello, of the crimson band,
A noble knight, and brother in our arms!
I thus salute thee.

[Embraces him.]
Leonor.
And, I pledge my faith,
He shall prove worthy of the dignity.
I pray you, gentlemen, make way for me:
[Advancing.]
A mother's kiss should not be last to greet
The honors of a son. (Kisses Don Tello.)
Don Tello, know
This order was bestowed to spur thee on
To actions that may make thy worth appear
Equal with our bestowing. This fair badge
Is not an ornament for festal days,
A ribbon to enrich thy vanity,
But the illustrious mark by which Castile
Knows her great children, and can turn to them
With confident assurance of such deeds
As raised her glory to its present height.
Thy breast is girt as with a ring of fire:
An evil act within its circle looks
Prodigious to beholders, and draws all
To fix their concentrated eyes upon
The splendid criminal. Small flames on heights
Show further than great fires in humbler spots;
And they who see them from the vale below
Oft take a candle for a meteor.
Remember this; and fear thy slightest fault
May spread corruption through an empery.

Lara.
(Apart to Villena.)
Right royal that, and to the purpose, too:
Some one has told her of Don Tello's slips.

Villena.
(Apart to Lara.)
Ay, if a lance-head ever fray that band,
Charge me with scandal.

Lara.
Hark! there 's more to come.

Leo.
Don Tello, thy renown lies next my heart,
Close to thy father's. I have much to say;—
But no,—not here. A mother's privilege
Borders too near the sanctity of prayer
For public ears. Call the ambassador.

[Resumes her state.]
Flourish. Enter the Ambassador from the Rebel, Don Juan Manuel, with Gentlemen, Soldiers, Attendants, &c., bearing sumptuous presents.
Ambassador.
(Kissing Doña Leonor's hand.)
Lady, my lord salutes you with these gifts,
Rather as evidence of his good will,
Than as fit offering to your deserts.
The gods, who scorned the shepherd's sacrifice
Of curds, and wine, and bleeding throats of lambs,
Looked not unkindly on the worshipper,
Despite the simple service of his hands.—

Leo.
Pray you, end there. To offer mortal ears
That which becomes divinity alone,
Insults its majesty and our plain sense.
The power I hold is delegated trust
From the true centre of all power, the king.
If you have business that concerns the state,
I'll hear with patience; if you 'd deal with Heaven,
Carry your incense to the nearest church.

Lara.
(Apart to Villena.)
Mark the ambassador! That lofty stride
Tripped up his earthly progress.

Vil.
How he burns!
His throat is full of thistles.

Leo.
Is there aught,
Between Don Manuel and his majesty,
That our discourse may further?

Am.
Much, your grace,
But not intended for publicity.

Leo.
Speak out. The government deserves distrust
That stops the people's ears while it debates.

Am.
Your wishes are commands. Don Manuel,
Some time in arms against his sovereign,
Proffers his fealty to you, and swears
To be your liegeman on a single term.

Leo.
Name it. The king would stretch his clemency,
To make a friend of his illustrious foe.

Am.
'T is a condition pleasant to the king—
Or rumor lies for once in good report—
And honorable to her for whom 't is urged:
Simply, that Don Alfonso should divorce
That hag of Portugal—

Leo.
Sir, let me say,
That is no title in Castilian ears
To know their queen by. How now, gentlemen,
Is there no gauntlet down upon the word?
You downcast men, do you not blush to see
The spurs of chivalry upon your heels?
(Lara, Villena, and other Knights, throw their gauntlets before the Ambassador.)
There, on my faith, you see 't is raining steel!
Thou backward, Tello!
[He throws down his gauntlet.]
And, to crown them all,
Behold a prince's glove upon the heap!
Bear our defiance to Don Manuel;
And say, a word of treason is a spell,
To conjure up such loyal storms as this,
In our Castilian air. Your pardon, sir:
We check your lord, not his ambassador.
What follows this?

Am.
Your coronation, lady.
After divorcement of the queen, my lord
Would see the imperfect throne made whole by you.

Leo.
What say you, sirs? My lord of Lara, speak.

Lara.
I only may repeat the general voice,
Strengthened by sanction from the king himself.
Accept the offer, not as his alone,
But as the constant wish of all Castile.

Leo.
Speak, Don Fernando.

Vil.
Lara's choice is mine.

Leo.
My son, Don Tello?

Tello.
If they make me royal,
I'll fill my office with what grace I can.
Certes, if one held out a crown to me,
I should not put my hands behind my back.

Leo.
Thou art the frankest speaker of them all.
Ah, gentlemen, it is your private hopes
Of what may follow to yourselves, through me,
That hurries this advancement.

Lara.
You mistake,
At least in me, the object of our hopes.
Through you Castile would flourish—

Leo.
Has it not?
If naught's accomplished, nothing can I do.
I found this land an arméd wilderness,
A chain of citadels, and all between
Was desolation trampled into dust
By a fierce soldiery, who only brooked
The fiercer orders of their savage chiefs.
So, in the midst, I built a house of peace,
An unwalled palace, full of open doors;
And round about I spread a garden-plot,
Hedged it with flowers, and from its sculptured urns
I sent the streams back to their native heaven,
Returned in music. No defence was mine,
Save the imploring weakness of the flowers,
The scented dews my fountains scattered out,
And the light blushes of my garrison.
Yet at my gate War laid aside his spear,
And vines ran round it, from the hand-worn grasp
Up to the steely point, whence blossoms hung
Trembling with horror. Ay, the rugged god
Doffed his grim casque, and sat beside my feet,
Until I schooled him with the mandolin;
Or taught his awkward limbs to move apace
In other measures than the martial tread.
Are these things naught? These are my conquests, sirs;
And she who steps beyond her threshold's dust,
To play Achilles in her woman's gear,
Shall find the sword-hilt frets her dainty hand,
And the great helmet makes her forehead ache.

Lara.
Yet there are other duties of a queen,—
Calm government, the sway of useful days,
Bent on a nation's welfare.

Leo.
Ah! the hand
That takes a sceptre up, knows not how soon
The royal symbol must become a sword.

Am.
But, lady—

Leo.
Ay, sir, so much for myself;
Now for the weightier matters of the realm.
What are your master's ends in this affair?

Am.
I am his spokesman, not his confidant.

Leo.
Mark, how much nearer to his heart am I
Don Manuel fears Castile's advancing power
May crush the Moor, and win a general peace:
In which conjuncture, rebels like himself
Could ill abide our undistracted arms.
His safety hangs upon our foreign wars.
Divorce the queen, and on our western skirts,
Instant, insulted Portugal uprears
His warlike standard, in the queen's behalf;
While, from the south, the hordes of Africa
Again win footing on our weakened lines.
Then our new liegeman puts his oath aside,
With the same readiness he put it on,
And rises in our midst a dangerous foe,
Made more audacious by his treachery.
Say to your master that my lord, the king,
Treats with his rebels at the lance's point,
Nor ever recognized, nor ever will,
Don Manuel's right to treat by embassy.
Take back the trinkets you designed for me—
Don Manuel's needs will shortly ask for them;
And tell him, Leonor de Guzman loves
No title in the spacious gift of man,
Above the welfare of her native land.

Am.
Must this be final?

Leo.
Yes, sir; 't is the fruit
Of many a painful hour of solemn thought,—
Of many a struggle with a treacherous heart,
Whose passions threatened to be paramount.

Am.
Lady, with your reply my functions cease.
Now, as a gentleman of Spain, I say
That your refusal of this proffered crown
Rivals in splendor the ambitious gift,
And dims its jewels with your eloquent breath.
She who next wears the honors you put by
Must sit beneath you in real dignity.
Humbly I take my leave.

[Kisses her hand, and exit with his suite.]
(Solemn music, tolling of bells, and cries of grief, are heard.)
Leo.
What sounds are these
That so appal me, like the uplifted voice
Of direful prophecy?

(Enter Don Enrique and Don Fadrique, followed by Coronel and Cañedo.)
Enrique.
Mother!

Leo.
My son!—
And thou, twin brother to my eldest born!
The hour that made your difference in birth,
Makes none within my heart.

En.
Mother!

Fadrique.
Alas!

En.
O God! be doubly dear to us a while,
Or fate will crush us!

Leo.
Sons—Enrique—speak!
What is this mystery?

En.
Mystery! Would 't were so,
And not so plain before my shrinking soul!
Tell her, good brother.

Fad.
Didst thou speak to me?

Leo.
This cruelty is not usual with you, sons.—
The king, the king!—Where is your father?

En.
Look,
Through the wide casement, on yon mournful host!—
The trailing pikes—the furled emblazonry
Of our victorious standards—the bowed heads
Of veterans who behold each other's scars
Channels for running tears, without surprise—
The empty saddle—

Leo.
'T is thy father's steed,
Roderick, the last of the old Gothic strain;
Oft have I held him by his golden bit,
Against Alfonso's spurring.—

En.
Mother, mother,
Thou dreamest, mother. Wake! the king—

Leo.
The king?
Well, well, the king is ill?—is wounded?—Ha!
Where is the king?

En.
He's dead!

Leo.
No, no!

[Faints.]
All.
Dead! dead!

En.
Fadrique, loose her collar. She revives.
O, bitter waking to a world of woe!

Leo.
Some one—thou, thou, Enrique, was it not?—
Brought me a message from my lord the king.

En.
Many.—

Leo.
Thou dar'st not tell me he is dead?
Thou wouldst behold a helpless woman quake?
Such words are treason while the sovereign lives.

En.
Alas!

Leo.
And thou believ'st it?

En.
From these arms—
For there were few who dared confront the plague—
That mighty champion of Christendom
Took flight for heaven.

Leo.
Dear Lord! and is it so?
I feel somewhat bewildered in my mind,
And what I see is hardly in clear view,
Though I see much—much—much—

[Walks about wildly.]
En.
Awake, poor heart!
Nay, slumber on. Her smitten sense is numb,
And reason sits not upright on his throne.
But we, Fadrique, have beheld such things,
As might parch up the tearful eyes of grief
With flaming anger.

Fad.
Yes; and 't is no time
To stand before our fate with idle hands.
Mother, the liberty and lives of all
Whom thou call'st children are in jeopardy:
Inaction will undo us.

En.
Speak to us!
Dear mother, thou hast sorrows that pass cure,
But there are other wounds that need thy aid.

Leo.
What said your grace?

Fad.
The king is dead, good mother.

Leo.
Ay, I know that.

En.
And all the smothered hate
Of Alburquerque, and the wolfish queen,
Begins to darken in each face we see.

Leo.
Where is the king?

Fad.
Dead.

Leo.
Then what help have we?
Or what worse fortune can befall? Why, we
May sit and laugh, like beggars, in our rags,
At the rich trappings which men fear to lose.

En.
Such desperation would disgrace a man,
Yet it shows sweetly in thee, mother. I,
Who hold the duties of an eldest son,
Must not so far forget the blood I bear,
As to sit sobbing o'er my father's corpse,
While ruin seizes on his heritage.
Fly to thy order, brother. I believe
Santiago's banner can protect its master,
Until I rally our undoubted friends.
Tello, take horse—I need not bid thee spur—
And bear Fadrique company. Away!

Fad.
Thy blessing, mother.

Leo.
God protect you both!
[Exeunt Fadrique and Tello.]
Enrique, thou misjudgest: I am patient—
Quite patient—ready to be ruled by thee;
Only ask nothing may proceed from me;
Do with me as thou wilt.
(Solemn music. Enter Soldiers with the bier of King Alfonso.)
O heaven! my—sovereign!
Husband, I nearly said: but I'm a widow,—
Or was years since, before Alfonso's day,—
And the old term comes easily to my lips.
Besides, Alfonso loved that name from me,
When we were jesting.—Ay, that corpse could jest:
You would not think it, now, to look at him.
Forgive me, friends, for slandering your king.

En.
O mother, mother, put these toys away,
And bless the swords that must be drawn for thee.

Leo.
No swords for me.—Yet, dear Enrique, do
That which seems best, without a thought of me.
My lord of Lara, you were guardian,
Under the gracious orders of the king,
Of my poor person;—what would you advise?

Lara.
Shut up the castle. You have power enough
To bide a two-years' siege from half Castile.

En.
I like the counsel.

Leo.
Governor Coronel,
Shut up our castle.

Coronel.
Not till I am forth.
I have some pressing business in Seville.

Cañedo.
The only sane reply thou ever madest!

[Apart to Coronel.]
En.
Now, thou ungrateful traitor, were it not
For the most sacred presence of the dead,
I 'd buffet thee!

Cor.
Peace, bastard! you may have
Some fair occasion in an open field.

[Throws down his key of office, and exit, with Cañedo.]
Leo.
Our friends fall off with little shaking, son.
My lord of Lara, as our deputy,
[Offering the key.]
We here present our castle's key to you.

Lara.
Forgive me, lady: a neglected order,
Urging my instant presence at Seville,
Is two days old with me.

[Exit with Villena.]
En.
Return, false Lara,
And, on my father's bier, I'll offer up
Thy faithless body to his angry ghost!
(The Courtiers, Knights &c., gradually drop out, talking eagerly, and leave Leonor, Enrique, and the soldiers, with the body.)
You skulking villains, cannot you remain?

First Courtier.
I 'm most obnoxious to the plague, my lord;—
My father died of it.

[Exit.]
Second Courtier.
And mine.

[Exit.]
Third Courtier.
And mine.

[Exit.]
En.
Yet left the plague-spot in your very souls,
You nest of sickly cowards! Shame, sir knight!
I saw you win those rowels, that so ring
Disgrace behind you, in a battle-field!

Knight.
But not to lose them in a broil.

[Exit.]
Leo.
(Approaching the bier.)
Alack!
Blame not the leaves for falling with the trunk.
Here lies in death the noble tree from which
Castilian honor drew its only sap.
Alas! thy branches sheltered noisome weeds,
That sucked their living from thy generous roots;
And thou didst drop o'er them thy healthful dews,
And smiled, as if thou 'dst nurtured gentle flowers.
When such as he o'erturn, the world around
Is strewn with ruin. Son, depart at once:
Gather thy friends; or, shouldst thou fail, perchance,
Then, join me in Seville. My mind is clear,
And wholesome blood runs through my veins again.

En.
Mother, I'll keep with thee: there 's time enough.

Leo.
Where goes the body, friend?

Soldier.
Towards Seville.

Leo.
Thither go I. Alfonso, love like mine
Ne'er takes a parting e'er the shroud is on.
Faithful to thee, I followed thee through life—
Faithful, I follow through the shades of death!

(Solemn music. Exeunt Soldiers with the body, followed by Leonor and Enrique.)