 | Poems, dramatic and miscellaneous |  |
SCENE I.
Don Juan and Don Francis in Chains, led by the Guards across the Stage.—Pass off.DON VELASCO and CONDE HARO.
De Haro.
To see my country bleed, distracts my soul;
But suffering virtue moves the gods themselves.
I must implore my father's lenient hand
To hold suspended yet the prisoner's fate,
Until the emperor himself arrives:—
His clemency may fix his royal power,
And make him worthy of the crown he wears.
A pardon granted to the good and brave
Will bind their faith by gratitude and grace.
Velasco.
The laws have fix'd their signet on their fate;
Nor will I pause, or hesitate between,
The wide extremes of pity and revenge.
Did conscience melt, and bid me spare their lives,
I'd spurn her back—bid the rude phantom fly,
And cease to check me in my fix'd design;
They die tomorrow ere the sun retires.
De Haro.
I plight my sword, my honour, faith and life,
Those sacred sanctions that bind men of worth,
That Francis' pardon, or Don Juan's life,
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Nor cause new ruptures, or disturb the realm.
Velasco.
The block's prepar'd—by justice' hand they die.
De Haro.
Let pity touch thy breast—let innocence—
Let infant tears—let virgin sorrow plead—
And let the matron's grief torn bosom urge
A husband's cause:—O spare Padilla's life!—
Velasco.
And does my son—the glory of his house,
Stand half dissolv'd by pity's softening tear?
De Haro.
There is a secret cause I dare not name,
That yet might soften a fond father's heart.
Velasco.
This cursed cause—alas! too long conceal'd,
Unbends thy purpose, and unmans thy arm.
Louisa knows her secret guilt's betray'd;
Her trembling steps too weak to bear her there,
I yesterday confin'd her to her room;
Bade her paepare to pay her nuptial vows
To one I'd chosen for her rightful lord,
To save her honour from a wanton love.
De Haro.
Do not precipatate the lovely maid,
But gently lead with a paternal hand;
And let time heal her agitated breast.
Velasco.
Stay not to prattle here for pardoning grace.
Though weeping maids, or aged sires combin'd,
Or lisping infants join the matron's tears
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These outcasts of the world shall be cut off,
As nature's shreds, and blotted out of time.
De Haro.
Then I repair to visit and console
Afflicted worth in its extreme distress.
Velasco.
Go, take thy leave—salute thy treacherous friends,
Ere my right hand shall send them to the shades.
[Exeunt.
| Poems, dramatic and miscellaneous | |