University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—THE SEA-COAST NEAR TANGIERS. Amid the sound of trumpets and the noise of disembarking, enter DON FERNANDO, DON ENRIQUE, DON JUAN COUTIÑO, and Souldiers successively from their ships.
FERNANDO.
I must be first, fair Africa, to tread
Upon the sandy margin of thy shore;
That as thou feelest on thy prostrate head
The weight of my proud footsteps trampling o'er,
Thou may'st perceive to whom thy sway is given.

ENRIQUE.
I am the second whom the swift waves bore
To tread this Africa!
He stumbles and falls.
Preserve me, Heaven!
Even here my evil auguries pursue.

FERNANDO.
Let not, Enrique, thy stout heart be riven
By fancied omens, as weak women do;
This fall should waken hopes and not alarms.
The land a fitting welcome gives to you,
For, as its lord, it takes you to its arms.

ENRIQUE.
The sight of us the Moorish herd appals,
And they have fled, deserting fields and farms.

JUAN.
Tangiers has closed the gates around its walls.

FERNANDO.
They all have fled for safer shelter there.
On you, Don Juan, Count Miralva, falls
The duty of examining with care
All the approaches of the land, before
The sultry sun, o'ercoming with its glare
The temperate dawn, oppress and wound us more.
Salute the city; call on it to yield;
Say 'tis in vain to squander human gore
In its defence; for though each conquered field
Ran red with blood, and burning blew the wind,
And 'neath our tread the tottering ramparts reeled,
We still would take it.

JUAN.
You will quickly find
I'll reach its gates, although, volcano-like,
With thickest clouds it strikes the bright sun blind,
And lightnings flash and bolts around me strike!

Exit.
Enter BRITO.
BRITO.
Thanks be to God! that April and sweet May
Once more I walk on, and that, as I like,
Without unpleasant reelings and dismay
I go about upon the solid ground.
Not as just now at sea, when, yea or nay,
Within a wooden monster's caverns bound,
Though light of foot I could not get away
Even when in greatest fear of being drown'd.
So little weary of the world am I,
O dry land, mine! obtain for me, I pray,
That I may never in the water die,
Nor even on land till near to the last day.

ENRIQUE
(to Fernando).
Why dost thou listen to this fool?

FERNANDO.
And why,
Against all reason, dost thou persevere
In vague forebodings and unreal grief!

ENRIQUE.
My soul is full of some mysterious fear;—
That Fate frowns darkly is my fixed belief;
For since I saw fair Lisbon disappear,
Its well-known heights fast fading one by one—
Of all the thoughts that haunt me Death is chief!
Scarcely had we our enterprise begun,
Scarce had our ships commenced their onward chase,
When, in a paroxysm, the great sun,
Shrouded in clouds, concealed his golden face,
And angry waves in foaming madness wreck'd
Some of our fleet. Where'er I look I trace
The same disaster;—O'er the sea project
A thousand shadows;—If I view the sky,
Its azure veil with bloody drops seems fleck'd;—
If to the once glad air I turn mine eye,
Dark birds of night their mournful plumage wave;—
If on the earth, my fall doth prophesy
And represent my miserable grave.

FERNANDO.
Let me decipher with affectionate care,
And so your breast from dark forebodings save,
These fancied omens from earth, sea, and air:
'Tis true we lost one ship amid the main;
That is to say, that we had troops to spare
From the great conquest we have come to gain.
The purple light that stains the radiant sky
Foretels a day of jubilee, not pain.
The monstrous shapes that round us float or fly,
Flew here, and floated ere we came; and thus
If they reveal a fatal augury,
It is to those who live here, not to us.
These idle fancies and unfounded fears
Came from the Moors, so darkly credulous,
Not from the enlightened minds of Christian seers.
Those who believe in them may feel alarms,
Not those who shut them from their doubting ears.
We two are Christians; we have taken arms,
Not through vainglory, nor the common prize
With which young Fame the soldier's bosom charms;
Nor that, perchance, in deathless books, men's eyes
Hereafter read of this great victory.
The faith of God we come to aggrandise;
Whether it be our fate to live or die,
Be His alone the glory and the praise.
'Tis true, we should not God's dread vengeance try
Too rashly; but his anger knoweth ways
To curb the proud, and make the haughty bend.
You are a Christian; act a Christian's part:
We come to serve our God, and not offend.
But who is this?—

Enter DON JUAN.
JUAN.
My lord, obeying
Your commands, I sought the walls;
And when crossing o'er the mountain,
Where the sloping verdure falls,
I beheld a troop of horsemen
Riding by the road to Fez—
Riding with such wondrous fleetness
That the startled gazer says,
Are they birds, or are they horses?
Do they fly, or do they bound?
For the air doth not sustain them,
And they scarcely touch the ground.
Even the earth and air were doubtful
If they flew, or if they ran.

FERNANDO.
Let us hasten to receive them,
Placing foremost in the van
Those who bear the arquebusses;
Let the horsemen next advance,
With the customary splendour
Of the harness and the lance.
On, Enrique! fortune offers
Now a noble opening fight.
Courage!

ENRIQUE.
Am I not thy brother?
Nothing can my soul affright,
Nor the accidents of fortune,
Nor the countenance of death!

Exeunt.
BRITO,
alone.
I must somehow act the soldier,
And keep guard upon—my breath!
What a very noble skirmish!
How they spill their blood and brains!
It is best, from under cover
To survey this “Game of Canes!”—

Exit.