University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Hernandez
(alone.)
Victorious passion! thou at length hast gain'd
The prize, that long has kindled in my soul
Such wild tumultuous hopes and madding wishes!
Thy secret joys are safe.—Spite of the frenzy,
Rais'd by her wounded pride and vain resistance,
This coy one, stifling her vindictive rage,
Most wisely hides the mysteries of the night;
And from her silence in this hasty marriage,
My triumph is complete: she now will grow
The willing vassal of my private pleasure.
But hark! I hear the doating bridegroom's voice:
He moves this way.—I would not he should cast
His keen eyes on me, till my harrass'd spirit
Regain its wonted firmness.—I'll avoid him.

[Exit.
Enter the Governor and Mendoza.
Governor.
Indeed, my son, I've yielded much too far
To the fond zeal of your intemperate love.
How will the world upbraid me, for allowing
Your hurried nuptials, in this ill-starr'd hour
Of doubtful horrors, your unhappy bride
Or drown'd in tears, or almost craz'd with terror!
And the brave youth, her late affianc'd lord,
My poor ill-fated friend, welt'ring in blood,
From the base wounds of undetected murder!

Mendoza.
My honour'd father, thou hast only done
What tenderness and duty both enjoin'd.
Her generous wish to be my wedded love,
Her virtuous dread that honour might forbid it,
And the dire fate of that lamented youth,
Whom she both loath'd and pitied, all combin'd,
Had cruelly depriv'd her troubled senses
Of reason's sovereign guidance; still on me
The lovely maniac rav'd; implor'd my aid
To save her from Lupercio's nuptial claim,
And chase the gory phantom from her sight,
Which frenzy rais'd before it:—what remain'd,
But for Mendoza, urg'd by love and pity,
To take the dear distrest one to his bosom,
Bear her from hence, and in more tranquil scenes
Heal her distemper'd mind, and fondly cherish
The gentle sufferer into peace and joy?

Governor.
Heaven bless the generous fervor of thy fondness,
Thou noble-minded youth!—I had not power
To thwart thy wish, tho' my paternal heart,
Trembling in its completion, still endures
Painful vicissitudes of hope and fear.

Mendoza.
Doubt not, my father, lenient time and love,
That mutual love which consecrates our union,
Will from the harrass'd spirit of thy daughter
Remove this load of complicated anguish,
And make us soon the happiest pair that ever
Reach'd the pure summit of connubial bliss.

Governor.
I know she loves thee to a fond excess;
Her soul was form'd for love: and thou art blest,
Most richly blest, with all that can enchant
The eye or heart of woman:—on this ground
I build my strongest hope. Yet O, my son,
Weak as she is, her senses scarce restor'd,
How can I yield this darling from my sight,
E'en to a guard so tender?

Mendoza.
Speak your pleasure!
If 'tis your wish, we will remain your guests.
But change of place will sooth the harrass'd mind
Of our sweet sufferer. She should quit this scene,
While, in avenging the brave murder'd youth,
You nobly pay your great and awful debt
To private friendship and to public justice.

Governor.
I have no doubts on that atrocious deed.—
My poor lost friend's incautious ardent spirit
Had fatally provok'd some desperate villains
Who lurk within our city: the base wretches
Have thus reveng'd a menace, which Lupercio
Pronounc'd against their chief;—but by my orders
We soon shall see the bloody slaves secur'd.
A care still heavier presses on my heart,
My poor perturbed child!—My anxious love
Wavers in painful doubt, nor can resolve
To speed her hence, or to detain her here.

Mendoza.
Submit it to her choice!—Soon as the priest
Ended our hasty and affecting marriage,
You know she begg'd permission to retire,
To gain by solitude reviving strength,
And still those throbs of lovely agitation,
Which in the solemn rite subdu'd her softness.
Go to her chamber, your paternal care
May best explore her wishes: let them be
Our guides in every step!—For me, I hold
My fortune and my life but ministers
Bound to fulfil our dearest mutual hope,
And make the bliss of your angelic daughter
As perfect as her beauty.

Governor.
Noble youth!
A father's tears must thank thee.—I will follow
Thy generous counsel, and return to bless thee.

[Exit.
Mendoza.
How mighty is thy power, Parental Love!
The hardy sinews of this gallant veteran,
Proof 'gainst the weight of war's severest toils,
Yield to thy pressure.—That undaunted firmness,
Which peril could not shake, is turn'd by thee
To wavering fear and fond irresolution.

Enter Lopez.
Lopez.
My honour'd lord, forgive me, if my zeal
Urge me to trouble you with painful truths!

Mendoza.
What wouldst thou, Lopez?—Hence with idle preface,
And speak thy meaning boldly!

Lopez.
'Tis my duty
That forces from my lips, at such a season,
What I must grieve to speak, and you to hear.

Mendoza.
Well, thou hast credit for thy good intention,
Spare thy apologies, and tell thy tale!

Lopez.
'Tis thus, my lord—but promise me your pardon—

Mendoza.
I'll pardon any thing but thy suspence.

Lopez.
Know then, the steward of this house, Hernandez,
Has been observ'd to throw his daring arms
With such licentious freedom round your bride,
As honour cannot brook.

Mendoza.
Good simple fellow!
Is this thy wondrous tale? thy painful truth?
What! art thou yet to learn, that antient servants
Are amply privileg'd on days like this?
The man who bore the infant in his arms
May kiss the ripen'd bride without a crime,
And the quick eye of jealousy itself
Shall wink at his presumption.—Get thee gone!

Lopez.
He boasts he will attend you to Madrid;
Says he is fix'd for life my lady's usher,
Defying e'en her husband to displace him.

Mendoza.
I will not quarrel with his honest pride,
Inebriate with joy;—yet as the world
Is prone to censure, 'twill perhaps be prudent
To strike this boasting vassal from our train:
But that hereafter.—Hence! my father comes—
Yet, Lopez, stay—one word with thee alone.

[Exit with Lopez.
Enter the Governor and Marcella.
Marcella.
Think not, thou kindest parent that e'er drew
From the fond eyes of a protected child.
The tears of filial gratitude, think not
Thy daughter thankless for thy guardian care
From her impatient haste to quit thy mansion!

Governor.
No! my sweet child! I know thy heart too well
To doubt its tenderness. Trust me, thy father,
Much as he joys to have thee in his sight,
Feels in these moments all the forceful reasons
That urge thy quick departure.

Marcella.
Then farewell
To this paternal roof! Ye walls, that echoed
With the gay music of my infant songs,
Farewell! If aught of evil hover o'er ye,
May it depart with me! depart for ever!
Safety and honour, pure celestial guards,
Watch o'er this dome! and bless its dear possessor!—
Hear this my parting prayer, indulgent Heaven!
Whate'er thy pleasure may ordain for me,
Here or hereafter, grant, O grant me this,
To die before my father can have cause
To wish he were not author of my being!

Governor.
Live but till then, and thou must be immortal!—
Rise, my kind daughter!—Thou wilt ever prove
My age's darling; dearer to thy father
Than life or glory. Heaven, I trust, for thee
Has years in store of still encreasing joy.

Marcella.
Alas! my father, dost thou not perceive
The poor Lupercio whispering from his shroud
How short and how precarious mortal being!
If soon thou chance to hear thy child is dead,
And his shade tells me thou wilt hear it soon,
I pray thee let not an intemperate grief
Bend to the earth thy venerable age.
Yet O forget me not! with tender sorrow
Give thy pure prayers to my departed soul!

Governor.
Rise, rise, my child!—Let not these gloomy fancies
O'ercloud thy chearful spirit! raise thine eyes
To all the radiant paths of varied pleasure
That open now before thee!—See thy lord,
The bright conductor of thy future steps,
Comes, like the sun new-risen, to disperse
These noxious vapours from thy darken'd mind,
And give thy charms new lustre!

Enter Mendoza.
Governor.
Dear Mendoza,
We will from hence to-day: I will myself
Play the young soldier, and escort your bride
Across this province.

Mendoza.
Blest the travellers,
Whose road is shorten'd by so dear a guide!

Governor.
Raise thou that drooping lily, while I go
And issue orders for our quick departure.

[Exit.
Mendoza.
Come to my arms, thou sweet seraphic being!
Come, and preside o'er all my future life,
As a benignant angel, by whose guidance
I wish to regulate my every thought!—
Bless that kind tear! it is the sweet reply
Of tenderness too delicate for language.—
Yet speak, Marcella—my delighted ear
Doats on the music of thy soothing voice.

Marcella.
O had I but the power to make thee happy!
Were it but possible, thy life should prove
Unclouded, as thy virtues and thy love!

Mendoza.
In thee I've every blessing man can wish.
My conscious pride, exulting in thy love,
Boldly defies the wantonness of fancy
To figure joys above th'unchequer'd bliss
Which my full heart has found in thy perfection.
Be thou as happy as thou mak'st Mendoza,
And we shall live the envy of the world.—
Why gush these tears? Why heaves thy lab'ring bosom?
Why roves thy troubled eye around the chamber,
Seeming to parley with the senseless walls?—
My tender fair-one! I perceive thy thoughts:
This is the fond adieu which thy soft spirit
Expresses to this dear paternal mansion.
Be chear'd! thou soon shalt visit it again,
When its glad gates shall leap at thy approach,
And ev'ry echoing stone repeat thy welcome.—
Still pensive!—Come, sweet partner of my life!
Prepare we for our travels.—Have your women
Receiv'd their orders? Pray, ere we depart,
Inform Hernandez we will not deprive
His generous master of so tried a servant!
Tell him he must not quit his post.

Marcella.
I dare not.

Mendoza.
How! dare not, didst thou say? What! dare not utter
A just direction to an antient vassal?

Marcella.
He is the master of a fatal secret,
I dare not drive him to reveal.

Mendoza.
A secret!
Hast thou a secret thou canst wish to hide
From the fond eye of all-forgiving love?

Marcella.
I have:—for thee, thou darling of my soul,
And for my father's peace, I strongly wish'd
To bear it with me to an early grave,
And hide its painful horrors in the shade
Of hasten'd death:—but, like the inbred fire,
That burns its passage thro' the groaning earth,
Struggling, it bursts from my convulsive bosom,
And all the blazing ruin rushes on thee.

Mendoza.
Amazement!—Thou hast petrified my heart:
Yet speak! whatever wretchedness awaits me,
I wish to hear it from no lips but thine.

Marcella.
Thou generous object of my fatal love!—
Wretch as I am, how shall I bear the pangs,
The keener pangs, I'm destin'd to inflict
On the pure heart I wish'd to make most happy?
Ill-starr'd Mendoza! dear, deluded youth!
Thou fondly think'st thou'st taken to thy bosom
A spotless form of purity and truth;
But oh! 'tis stain'd by complicated crimes,
Too horrible for utterance.

Mendoza.
Can it be?
Who but thyself should call thee base, and live?
Thou canst not be so: yet, I pray thee, speak
The dreadful purport lab'ring on thy lips!

Marcella.
By Heaven I cannot! anguish, shame, remorse
Stifle my words.—Here let me fall before thee!
In pity both to me and to thyself
Kill the vile wretch thus groveling at thy feet,
Before her guilty tale shall freeze thy blood.

Mendoza.
Rise, thou dear suff'rer; I conjure thee speak—
No words, how horrible soe'er their import,
Can torture more than this soul-harrowing silence.

Marcella.
Lupercio—

Mendoza.
What!—Thou knew'st not of his murder!

Marcella.
Hernandez—

Mendoza.
Ha! was he the black assassin?

Marcella.
I did not place the poniard in his hand;
I did not ask for blood: but my base falshood,
Falshood the offspring of my love to thee,
Led to that bloody deed.

Mendoza.
My bride a murd'ress!

Marcella.
Look not upon me thus! I cannot bear
The fierce abhorrence of those angry eyes.
Plunge thy sword here, and give me gentler death!

Mendoza.
Thou canst not be so guilty. Thou hast injur'd
Thy own soft heart.—Unfold the fatal story.

Marcella.
Thou'rt yet to hear accumulated horrors,
To make me still more loathsome to thy sight:
But I can never speak them.—Kill me! kill me!
In mercy end my miseries, before
The lightning of my father's indignation
Strikes his detested daughter into dust.

Mendoza.
Would I could save him from the pangs I feel!
But 'tis impossible, if thou art guilty.

Marcella.
It is, it is—then save me from his wrath!
Save my departing spirit from his curse,
And death may then atone for my offences.
I only wish to die by that dear hand;
For oh! Mendoza, had not my fond heart
Doated upon thee with unbounded love,
We ne'er had known this miserable hour.

Mendoza.
'Tis true, thou lovely criminal!—O Heaven!
Why was she fram'd with such pernicious beauty?—
I dare not trust myself to gaze upon thee
In this wild tumult of my madd'ning soul.—
Rest in this chamber, and restrain thy tears,
While I regain some little use of reason,
To hear more calmly all thy wretched tale.

[He leads Marcella weeping to the adjoining chamber, and closes the door upon her.
Mendoza.
What's to be done? my dizzy soul, thus falling
From joy's bright summit to these depths of horror,
Loses the faculty of thought.—Here, Lopez!
Go! bring Hernandez instantly before me!
Enter the Governor.
My father! are you come? I wish'd your presence,
Yet I would freely part with life, to save you
From the dread scene we must sustain together.

Governor.
What means Mendoza?—whence thy alter'd visage?—
What new affliction?—where's my hapless child?

Mendoza.
Thou brave, thou good, affectionate old man,
It wounds my soul to tell thee, that thy roof
Harbours the murderer thy justice seeks.
Behold, he comes to answer for his crime!

[Lopez and other Servants bring in Hernandez.
Governor.
Hernandez!—Art thou certain of his guilt?
Or whence is thy surmise?

Mendoza.
Hear and decide!—
Thou faithless servant, who hast stain'd a life
Of long integrity by one black deed,
I charge thee with the blood of that brave youth
Thy master call'd his friend.—Say! art thou able
To plead thy innocence?—Thou need'st not speak;
Thy guilty features answer thy accuser.

Hernandez
(aside.)
The trait'ress has betray'd me: then, revenge,
Thou art the only sweet that I can taste,
And I will banquet on thee.

Governor.
If thou art
So base a monster of ingratitude,
Prepare thyself for tortures.

Hernandez.
Spare thy threats,
Thou know'st not yet the partner of my guilt:—
Thou wouldst not chuse to see thy daughter's beauty
Expos'd a mangled victim in those streets,
Where never eye survey'd her passing form
But with delight or envy!

Governor.
Sland'rous ruffian!
Dar'st thou prophane the virtue of my child?—
But her pure soul could no more league with thine,
Than Heaven's most favor'd angel could descend
To aid the hellish plots of that arch fiend
Who prompted thee to perpetrate this murder.

Mendoza
(aside to Hernandez.)
Peace, villain! and if e'er thou hop'st for mercy,
Respect the feelings of a wounded father!

Hernandez.
Talk not to me of mercy—I despise it.—
Death is, I know, my portion; but its pangs
Are turn'd to transport by my rich revenge.
Too long the jests of mockery were lavish'd
On my mishapen form and ardent love.
One gibing youth has paid me with his life,
For insolent derision; and o'er thee,
Thou haughty husband, thou fair golden image,
Whom beauty worships unconstrain'd, o'er thee
My triumph rises to a prouder height
Of bold revenge—I have enjoy'd thy bride.

Mendoza.
Thou blood-stain'd lyar, hence!—Away with him
To strict confinement in your deepest dungeon!

Hernandez.
Bite thy proud frantic lip, in savage hope
To see my crooked body on the wheel
Crush'd, and expos'd a public spectacle!
My vengeance is consummate; but for thine,
'Tis the vain menace of presumptuous pride,
Which courage laughs at:—I escape it thus.

[Stabs himself.
Mendoza.
Thou hast indeed eluded the slow hand
Of human justice, but thou canst not foil
The surer vengeance of high-judging Heaven.

Governor.
Go! bring thy wife! she must appear this instant.
The form of injur'd innocence must draw
From the pale lips of this expiring villain
Th'avowal of his falshood.

Hernandez.
My dim eyes
Are closing, and in this deceitful world
Shall look no more upon her fatal beauty:
But in the next—O mercy!

[Dies.
Governor.
Where is my daughter?

Marcella
(entering.)
Here's the hapless being,
Who once was proud of that endearing name:
Tho' fallen, less guilty than the world might judge me,
From the base insult of this bleeding wretch,
Whose crimes are clos'd by death; yet O! my father,
Too vile to claim thy kindness, or to live.

Governor.
Wrong not thyself! thou art all innocence.

Marcella.
Thou dear, deluded parent—'twas my wish
To die, and not deprive thee of a thought,
In which thy virtuous spirit would have found
Sweet consolation for thy lost delight—
I wish'd a little longer to support
This wretched being, that I might not stain,
By my accelerated fate, this mansion,
The dear asylum of thy honour'd age!
But my gall'd spirit, never form'd to bear
The heavy load of unacknowledg'd guilt,
Sunk in its painful efforts to sustain it.
Hence the quick end of that abhorr'd assassin!
And hence thy child, atoning now by death
For her conceal'd offences, thus implores thee
To pardon, and to bless her parting spirit!

Governor.
O thou dear sufferer! whate'er thy failings,
Attempt not aught against thy precious life!

Mendoza.
Live, I conjure thee, and the tears of love
Shall wash th'ideal blemish from thy heart.

Marcella.
My generous husband! let me speak that name,
Still precious to me, tho' so rashly purchas'd!
Think not thy injur'd bride design'd to give
To thy chaste bed a vile dishonour'd partner,
Tho' forcibly dishonour'd!

Governor.
Ha, my child!
Hast thou endur'd from that atrocious ruffian—

Marcella.
O good my father, ask not my faint voice,
Which soon will sink in everlasting silence,
T'unfold a tale, whose utterance would call
Shame's burning blush to the pale cheek of death.—
A friendly poison has already numb'd
My vital faculties, but I have left
A written legacy of fatal fondness,
In which, unless my blotting tears have marr'd it,
You'll read what I have done, and what endur'd.—
Nay, weep not! both of you may love me dead,
Living you could not.

Mendoza.
Could affection rescue
Thy beauty from the grave, thou shoud'st not die.

Marcella.
I know, ye generous spirits, death will cancel
In your kind mem'ries all my fatal errors:
And hence its pangs are welcome.—One base purpose
Produc'd these scenes of unexpected horror;
But Heaven has will'd that crime should quicken crime,
To shew the danger of one devious step
From the clear paths of probity and truth.—
My dear Mendoza! thou wilt not deny me
The title of thy wife to grace my tomb,
And I shall sleep in peace.—Console my father,
And let him find in thee a worthier child!
I had a heart to reverence his virtues,
But not the strength to imitate.—O Heaven!

[Dies.
Mendoza.
'Tis gone! 'tis fled! the proud, the lovely soul,
That could not brook the shadow of dishonour!
Thy monument shall be the nuptial bed
On which Mendoza will recline, and breathe
His faithful fondness to thy list'ning spirit.
Nor will I slight the dear and hallow'd trust,
Bequeath'd by filial piety, to shield
With constant care thy father's honour'd age.—
Unhappy father! round the livid breast
Of his lost child in speechless agony
His arms are riveted!—Aid me to raise,
And bear him gently from this scene of death!