 | Alfonso, King of Castile |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE I.
The palace-garden.—Day-break.OTTILIA enters in a night dress: her hair flows dishevelled.
OTTILIA.
Dews of the morn, descend! Breathe, summer-gales,
My flushed cheeks woo ye! Play, sweet wantons, play
'Mid my loose tresses, fan my panting breast,
Quench my blood's burning fever!—Vain, vain prayer!
Not Winter, throned 'midst Alpine snows, whose will
Can with one breath, one touch, congeal whole realms,
And blanch whole seas; not that fiend's self could ease
This heart, this gulph of flames, this purple kingdom,
Where passion rules and rages!—Oh! my soul!
Cæsario, my Cæsario!— [A pause, during which she seems buried in thought—the clock strikes four.]
Hark!—Ah me!
Is't still so early? Will't be still so long,
Ere my love comes? Oh! speed, ye pitying hours,
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Then, if ye list, rest your kind wings for ever!
Enter LUCIO.
LUCIO.
'Tis past the hour! I fear I shall be chid,
For lo! the sun already darts his rays
Athwart the garden-paths.
OTTILIA.
How still! how tranquil!
All rests, except Ottilia! I'll regain
The hateful couch, where still my husband sleeps:
Ere long he sleeps for ever!—Ha! why steals
Yon boy ...... Amazement! Do my eyes deceive me?
LUCIO.
Hist! hist! Estella?
ESTELLA.
[Appearing on the terrace of the palace.]
Lucio?
LUCIO.
Aye, the same.
ESTELLA.
Good! good!
LUCIO.
But pray you bid him speed. So loud
His black Arabian snorts, and paws the earth,
I fear he'll wake the guards.
ESTELLA,
Farewell, I'll warn him.
[Exeunt severally.
OTTILIA.
[Alone.]
'Twas Lucio, sure! ... What business ... Ah, how ready
Is Fear to whisper what Love hates to hear!
[Estella and Cæsario appear on the terrace.]
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Shame and despair! Burst from your sockets, eyes,
Since ye dare show me this!—'Tis he! 'Tis he!
Cæsario! On my soul, Cæsario's self—
He bids farewell!—He waves a glittering scarf,
A gift of love, no doubt!—Now to his lips
He glues it!—Blistered be those lips, Cæsario,
Which have so oft sworn faith to me!—She goes ...
Egyptian plagues go with her!
[Exit Estella.
CÆSARIO.
[Looking back at the palace.]
Yet one look,
One grateful blessing for this night of rapture;
Then, shrine of my soul's idol! casket, holding
My heart's most precious gem, awhile farewell!
But, when my foot next bends thy floors, expect
No more this cautious gait, this voice subdued!
Proud and erect, with manly steps and strong,
I'll come a Conqueror and a King, to lead
With sceptred hand forth from her bower my bride,
And bid Castile adore her, like Cæsario.
Farewell, once more farewell!
OTTILIA.
[Advancing.]
I'll cross his path,
And blast him with a look.
CÆSARIO.
Ottilia?
OTTILIA.
What?
Am I then grown so hideous that my sight
Withers the roses on a warrior's cheeks,
And makes his steps recoil? In Moorish battles
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But shrinks to view a monster like Ottilia.
CÆSARIO.
[Aside.]
Confusion! Should her rage alarm the guards ......
OTTILIA.
Or do I wrong myself? Is still my form
Unchanged, but not thy faith? Speak, traitor, speak!
CÆSARIO.
I own, most dear Ottilia. ...
OTTILIA.
Hark! He owns it!
Hear, Earth and Heaven, he owns it! No excuse!
No varnish! No disguise!—He will not stoop
To use dissembling with a wretch he scorns,
Nor thinks it worth his pains to fool me further!
Proceed, brave sir, proceed! In trivial strain
Tell me, how light are lovers' oaths, how fond
Youth's heart of change, how quick love comes and flies;
And own, that yours for me is flown for ever.
Then with indifference ask a parting kiss,
Hope we shall still be friends, profess esteem,
Thank me for savours past, and coldly leave me.
CÆSARIO.
[Aside.]
How shall I hush this storm?
OTTILIA.
Oh! fool, fool, fool!
I thought him absent; thought mid-day would bring
My hero back, and pass'd this sleepless night
In prayers, and sighs, and vows for his return;
While scorned all oaths, forgot all faith, all honour,
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And mock'd the poor, undone, deceiv'd Ottilia!
CÆSARIO.
Estella?— [then aside]
Blest mistake!
OTTILIA.
What, didst thou hope
My rival's name unknown? Oh! well I know it;
Estella! cursed Estella! Still I'll shriek it
Piercing and loud, till Earth, and Air, and Ocean,
Ring with her name, thy guilt, and my despair.
CÆSARIO.
And need thy words, Ottilia, blame my falsehood?
Oh! in each feature of thy beauteous face
I blush to read reproaches far more keen.
Those glittering eyes, though now with lightnings armed,
Which erst were used to pour on blest Cæsario
Kind looks, and fondest smiles, and tears of rapture;
That voice, by wrath untuned, once only breathing
Sounds, like the ringdove's, amorous, soft and sweet;
That snowy breast, now swelled by storms of passion,
But which in happier days by love was heaved,
By love for me!—The least of these, Ottilia,
Gives to my heart a deeper stab than all
Thy words could do, were every word a dagger.
OTTILIA.
Thou prince of hypocrites!
CÆSARIO.
Think'st thou I flatter?
Then trust thyself— [leading her to a fountain.]
View on this watery mirror
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Bid this indignant fair confess, how vain
Estella's charms were to contend with thine!
And yet—oh! madman—at Estella's feet
Breathing my vows, these eyes forgot, these lips
Than roses sweeter, redder—Oh! I'll gaze
No more, for gazing I detest myself.
OTTILIA.
This subtle snake, how winds he round my heart!
Oh! didst thou speak sincerely .....!
CÆSARIO.
At thy feet,
Adored Ottilia! lo, I kneel repentant.
Couldst thou forgive—Vain man, it must not be.
Forgive the fool, who for a lamp's dull gleamings
Scorn'd the sun's noon-tide splendour? for a pebble
Who gave a diamond worth a monarch's ransom?
No, no, thou canst not.
OTTILIA.
Cannot? Oh Cæsario,
Thou lov'st no longer, or thou ne'er couldst doubt
I can, I must forgive thee!— [falling on his bosom].
CÆSARIO.
Best Ottilia,
No seraph's song e'er bore a sweeter sound
Breathed in the ear of some expiring saint,
Than pardon from thy lips.
OTTILIA.
[Embracing him.]
Those lips again
Thus seal it!—Yet to prove thy faith, I ask. ...
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What can Ottilia ask, and I deny?
OTTILIA.
The scarf you wear. ....
CÆSARIO.
[Starting.]
Ottilia!
OTTILIA.
Well I know
It was Estella's gift. I'll therefore wear it,
And with her jealous pangs repay my own.
Give me that scarf.
CÆSARIO.
And can Ottilia wish
So mean a triumph. ....?
OTTILIA.
Ha! Beware, Cæsario!
My foot is on thy neck, and should I find
Thy head a snake's, I'll crush it! Quick! the scarf!
Am I refused?
CÆSARIO.
Ottilia, be persuaded:
More nobly use thy power.
OTTILIA.
[Suffocated with rage.]
The scarf! the scarf!
CÆSARIO.
I value not the toy, nor her who gave it.
Then wherefore triumph o'er a fallen foe?
It must not be—Hark! footsteps!—Sweet, farewell!
Ere night we meet again.— [Going.]
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Yes, go, perfidious!
But know, ere night thy head shall grace the scaffold!
CÆSARIO.
[Returning.]
Said'st thou—?
OTTILIA.
Last night my husband's dreams revealed
A secret. ....
CÆSARIO.
[Starting.]
How? thy husband? Marquis Guzman?
OTTILIA.
He spoke of plots—of soldiers brib'd. ....
[looking round mysteriously, and pointing to the lower part of the palace.]
Of vaults
Beneath the royal chamber. .... Wherefore tell I
To thee a tale thou know'st thyself full well?
I'll tell it to the King. .... [Going.]
CÆSARIO.
Ottilia, stay!
OTTILIA.
The scarf. ....
CÆSARIO.
[Giving it.]
'Tis thine!—My life is in thy hands. ....
Be secret, and I live thy slave for ever.
[Exit.
OTTILIA.
[Alone.]
'Tis plain! 'tis plain! Traitor, thou lov'st her still!
Am I forsaken then? Oh shame, shame, shame!
Forsaken too by one, for whom last night
I dared a deed which. .... Ha! the palace opens,
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I'll hence, but soon returning make my rival
Feel what I suffer now. Thus fell Megæra
Tears from her heart one of those snakes which gnaw it,
To throw upon some wretch; and when it stings him,
Wild laughs the fiend to see his pangs, well knowing
How keen those pangs are, since she feels the same.
[Exit.
AMELROSA, ESTELLA, INIS, and Ladies, appear on the terrace of the palace.
AMELROSA.
Forth, forth, my friends! the morn will blush to hear
Our tardy greeting [descending.]
Gently, winds, I pray ye,
Breathe through this grove; and thou, all-radiant sun,
Woo not these bowers beloved with kiss too fierce.
Oh! look, my ladies, how yon beauteous rose,
O'er-charged with dew, bends its fair head to earth,
Emblem of sorrowing virtue! [to Inis]
Would'st thou break it?
See'st not its silken leaves are stain'd with tears?
Ever, my Inis, where thou find'st these traces,
Show thou most kindness, most respect. I'll raise it,
And bind it gently to its neighbour rose;
So shall it live, and still its blushing bosom
Yield the wild bee, its little love, repose.
INIS.
Its love? Can flowers then love?
AMELROSA.
Oh! what cannot?
There's nothing lives, in air, on earth, in ocean,
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Parted the elements, and out of chaos
Formed this fair world with one blest blessing word,
That word was Love! Angels, with golden clarions,
Prolonged in heavenly strain the heavenly sound:
The mountain-echoes caught it; the four winds
Spread it, rejoicing, o'er the world of waters;
And since that hour, in forest, or by fountain,
On hill or moor, whate'er be nature's song,
Love is her theme, Love! universal Love!
ESTELLA.
See, lady, where the King. ....
AMELROSA.
I haste to meet him.
Enter ALFONSO, and Attendants.
AMELROSA.
[Kneeling.]
My father! my dear father!
ALFONSO.
Heaven's best dews
Fall on thy beauteous head, my Amelrosa,
And be each drop a blessing!—Cheered by morning
Fair smile the skies; but nothing smiles on me,
Till I have seen thee well, and know thee happy.
AMELROSA.
And I were happy, if my eyes perceived not
Tears clouding thine. Oh! what has power to grieve thee
On this proud day, when rich in spoils and glory
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That brave young warrior? Spite of Moorish hosts,
And all their new-found engines of destruction,
Sulphureous mines, and mouths of iron thunder,
He forced their gates! He leap'd their flaming gulphs!
Pale as their banner'd crescent fled the Moors,
And proudly streamed our flag o'er Algesiras!
ALFONSO.
And with them fled. .... Oh! have I words to speak it?
Thy brother, Amelrosa!
AMELROSA.
How! my brother?
ALFONSO.
Oh! 'tis too true. He thinks I live too long,
So joined the Moors to hurl me from my throne,
Guided their councils, sharpened their resentment,
And, when they fled, fled with them.
AMELROSA.
Powers of mercy!
Can there be hearts so black!
ALFONSO.
Poor wretched man,
Where shall I turn me? where, since lust of power
Makes a son faithless, find a friend that's true?
Where fly for comfort. ....
AMELROSA.
To this heart, my father!
This heart, which, while it throbs, shall throb to love thee;
Stream thy dear eyes? my hand shall dry those tears;
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And when thou sleep'st, I'll watch thy dreams, and pray
—“Changed be to joy the sorrow which afflicts
“My king, my father, and my soul's best friend!”—
ALFONSO.
My child! my comfort!—Yes, yes! here's the chain,
The only chain that binds me to existence—
And should that break too. ... Should'st thou e'er deceive me—
Oh! should'st thou, Amelrosa. ....
AMELROSA.
Doubts my father .....?
ALFONSO.
No, no!—Nay, droop not. By my soul, I think thee
As free from guile, as yon blue vault from clouds,
And clear as rain-drops ere they touch the earth!
Nor love I mean suspicion:—where I give
My heart, I give my faith, my whole firm faith,
And hold it base to doubt the thing I value.
AMELROSA.
Then why that wronging thought?
ALFONSO.
By fear 'twas prompted;
By fear to lose, but not by doubt to keep.
And well my heart may fear. Think, think how keenly
Ingratitude has wrung that trusting heart!
Think that my faithless son but rends anew
A wound scarce fourteen years had healed.
AMELROSA.
Orsino?
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He! he! that man .... Oh! how I loved that man!
And yet that man betrayed me!
AMELROSA.
Is that certain?
Might not deception .... Slander loves the Court,
And slippery are the heights of royal favour.
Who stumbles, falls; who falls, finds none to raise him.
ALFONSO.
Nay, but I saw the writings; 'twas his hand,
His very hand, nor dared he disavow it:
For when I taxed him with his guilt, and showed him
His letters to the Moor, awhile he eyed me
In sullen silence, then contemptuous smiled,
And coldly bade me treat him as I list.
Arraigned, no plea excused his dark offence;
Condemned to die, no word implored for pardon:
But my heart pleaded stronger than all words!
I saved his life, yet bade him live a prisoner
Or clear himself from guilt.
AMELROSA.
And did he never. ....
ALFONSO.
Without one word or look, one tear or sigh,
He turned away, and silent sought the dungeon,
Where three years since he died .... Ah! said I, died?
No, no, he lives! lives in my memory still,
Such as in youth's fond dreams my fancy formed him,
Virtuous and brave, faithful, sincere, and just;
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How now? What haste brings fair Ottilia hither?
Enter OTTILIA, wearing the scarf.
OTTILIA.
Pardon, my Sovereign, that uncalled I come;
You see a suppliant from a dying man.
ALFONSO.
Lady, from whom?
OTTILIA.
My husband, Marquis Guzman,
Lies on the bed of death, and, stung by conscience,
By me unloads it of this secret guilt!—
Those traitor-scrolls, which bore Orsino's name. ...
ALFONSO.
Say on, say on!
OTTILIA.
By Guzman's hand were forged.
ALFONSO.
Forged?—No, no, no! Lady, it cannot be!
Unsay thy words, or stab me!
OTTILIA.
Gracious Sir,
Look on these papers.
ALFONSO.
Ha!
[After looking at them, drops them, and clasps his hands in agony.]
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Father! dear father!
ALFONSO.
Father! I merit not that name, nor any
Sweet, good, or gracious. Call me villain! fiend!
Suspicious tyrant! treacherous, calm assassin!
Who slew the truest, noblest friend, that ever
Man's heart was blest with!—Ha! why kneels my child?
AMELROSA.
For pardon first that I have dared deceive thee. ...
ALFONSO.
Deceive me?
AMELROSA.
Next to pay pure thanks to Heaven,
Which grants me to allay my father's anguish
With words of most sweet comfort.
ALFONSO.
Ha! what mean'st thou?
AMELROSA.
Four years are past since first Orsino's sorrows
Struck on my startled ear, that sound once heard,
Ne'er left my ear again, but day and night,
Whether I walked or fate, awake or sleeping,
The captive, the poor captive still was there.
The rain seemed but his tears; his hopeless groans
Spoke in each hollow wind; his nights of anguish
Robbed mine of rest; or, if I slept, my dreams
Showed his pale wasted form, his beamless eye
Fixed on the moon, his meagre hands now folded
In dull despair, now rending his few locks
Untimely gray; and now again in phrensy
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'Gainst his dank prison-walls dashed out his brains,
And died despairing! From my couch I started;
Sunk upon my knees; I kissed this cross,
—“Captive,” I cried, “I'll die, or set thee free!”—
ALFONSO.
And didst thou? Bless thee, didst thou?
AMELROSA.
Moved by gold,
More by my prayers, most by his own heart's pity,
His gaoler yielded to release Orsino,
And spread his death's report.—One night, when all
Was hushed, I sought his tower, unlocked his chains,
And bade him rise and fly! With vacant stare,
Bewildered, wondering, doubting what he heard,
He followed to the gate. But when he viewed
The sky thick sown with stars, and drank heaven's air,
And heard the nightingale, and saw the moon
Shed o'er these groves a shower of silver light,
Hope thawed his frozen heart; in livelier current
Flowed his grief-thickened blood, his proud soul melted,
And down his furrowed cheeks kind tears came stealing,
Sad, sweet, and gentle as the dews, which evening
Sheds o'er expiring day. Words had he none,
But with his looks he thanked me. At my feet
He sank; he wrung my hand; his pale lips pressed it;
He sighed, he rose, he fled; he lives, my father!
ALFONSO.
[Kneeling.]
Fountain of bliss! words are too poor for thanks;
Oh! deign to read them here!
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Canst thou forgive
My long deceit. ....
ALFONSO.
Forgive thee? To my heart
Thus let me clasp thee, best of earthly blessings,
Balm of my soul, and saviour of my justice!
Oh! blest were kings, when fraud ensnares their sense,
And passion arms their hands, if still they found
One who like thee dared stand the victim's friend,
Wrest from proud lawless Power his brandished javelin,
And make him virtuous in his own despite!
Enter RICARDO.
RICARDO.
My liege, your conquering general, brave Cæsario,
Draws near the walls.
ALFONSO.
I hasten to receive
The hero, and his troops: that duty done,
I'll seek my wronged friend's pardon. Say, my child,
Where dwells Orsino?
AMELROSA.
In the neighbouring forest
He lives an hermit: Inis knows the place.
ALFONSO.
Ere night I'll seek him there. And now farewell,
Ever beloved, but now more loved than ever!
Oh! still as now watch o'er and timely check
My hasty nature; still, their guardian-angel,
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Then, after-ages, pondering o'er the page
Which bears my name, shall see, and seen shall bless
That union most beloved of man and heaven,
A patriot monarch, and a people free!
[Exit with Ricardo and Attendants.
AMELROSA.
My good kind father! fatal, fatal secret,
How weigh'st thou down my heart.! [Remains buried in thought.]
]
OTTILIA.
I'll haste and calm
My husband's conscience with Orsino's safety.
But when our Spanish beauties throng the ramparts,
Anxious to see, and anxious to be seen,
Why stays Estella from the walls?
ESTELLA.
Both duty
And friendship chain me where the Princess stays.
OTTILIA.
Duty and friendship? trust me, glorious words;—
Yet there's a sweeter—Love! Boasts the gay band,
Which circles brave Cæsario's laurelled car,
No youth, who proudly wears Estella's colours,
And knows no glory like Estella's smile?
ESTELLA
Ha! Sure my sight must err?
OTTILIA.
[Aside.]
She sees, and knows it.
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It must be that! .... Princess!
OTTILIA.
[Aside.]
So, so! now flies she
To her she-Pylades for aid and comfort.
Oh! most rare sympathy! How the friend starts!
And, trust me, changes colour!
AMELROSA.
Say'st thou? how?
Away, it cannot be!
ESTELLA.
Convince thyself then.
OTTILIA.
[Aside.]
Aye, look your fill! look till your eye-strings break,
For 'tis that scarf; that very, very scarf! .....
So now the question comes.
ESTELLA.
Forgive me, lady,
Nor hold me rude, that much I wish to know,
Whence came the scarf you wear?
OTTILIA.
This scarf? ... Alas!
A paltry toy! a very soldier's present.
ESTELLA.
A soldiers?
OTTILIA.
Aye. 'Twas sent me from the camp:
But with such bitter taunts on her who wrought it ....!
Breathed ever mortal man such thoughts of me,
My heart would break, or his should bleed for't!
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Say you?
OTTILIA.
Nay mark—“Receive, proud fair,”—thus ran the letter—
“This scarf, forced on me by an hand I loath,
With many an amorous word and tasteless kiss!
As I for thee, so burns for me the wanton;
To me as thine, cold is my heart to her;
Nor canst thou more despise the gift than I
Scorn the fond fool who gave it!”—
AMELROSA.
Oh! my heart!
INIS.
Look to the Princess.
OTTILIA.
[Starting.]
Ha!
ESTELLA.
She faints!
AMELROSA.
No, no!
'Tis nothing—mid-day's heat ... the o'er-powering sun. .....
I'll in, and rest.
OTTILIA.
Princess, permit. ....
AMELROSA.
No, lady!
I need no aid of thine—In, in, Estella.
Oh! cruel, false Cæsario!
[Exit with Estella, Inis, and Ladies.
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[Alone.]
Ha! Is't so?
And flies my falcon at so high a lure?—
The Princess! 'tis the Princess that he loves!—
And shall I calmly see her bear away
This dear-bought prize, my secret crime's reward,
My lord, my love, my life, my all?—She dies!
[Exit.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
| Alfonso, King of Castile | |