Eudora A Tragedy |
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SCENE V.
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 | Eudora |  |
SCENE V.
THE KING, MAJONE, VERINO, EUDORA, SICARDI.THE KING.
What from the Prince?
Thy looks already have forerun thy tongue,
And chill'd my blood with fear: all is not well:
But speak, and let us hear the worst!
SICARDI.
Dread Sire!
The shades of death seem hovering o'er the Prince!
THE KING.
O say, where I may find the hapless youth,
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SICARDI.
Upon the road from Mazara, and lodged
Within the castle of the Count Verino
I left my royal Lord; ere my departure
Relentless death had more than half subdued
Contending nature, and I fear ere this
Has to the realms of endless peace consign'd
The people's darling, and the soldier's pride!
THE KING.
Is this the triumph, which my eager soul
Thirsted with fond impatience to behold!
But let me hear each dreadful circumstance!—
SICARDI.
Ere yester sun was set, the prince then warm
With present joy, and thoughts of future fame,
By chosen friends attended reach'd the castle:
Lord Raymond, on the wings of duteous love,
Had sped before him, eager to prepare
For the reception of his royal guest:
In sweet society and genial mirth
The happy evening past. The pride of conquest
Glowed in each breast, and shone in every eye.
Little 'twas thought the morrow would reverse
Our fairest expectations: but, ere morn,
Severest tortures seized the unhappy prince,
Convulsive pangs so shook his laboring frame,
That scarce the semblance of himself remained.
THE KING.
What! all the vigor of his blooming youth!
All in a moment blasted—Oh my child!
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The quick disease still gather'd strength, and mocked
The weak attempts of art.
THE KING.
Insatiate death!
In all the battle's rage didst thou withhold
Thy unrelenting shaft, to wound more deeply,
And strike the hero in his hour of triumph?
MAJONE.
O yet my liege, indulge not this despair!
Nature, assisted by the strength of youth,
Oft throws the burden of diseases from her,
And is again herself.
THE KING.
No, no, Majone,
Has he not said there is no room for hope?
And see a second messenger of death!
OFFICER,
(entering hastily.)
Scarce have I power to tell my royal master,
That all our hope, our joy, is now no more.
THE KING.
Support me gracious Heaven!—Lead me, Majone,
Lead to my chamber!—Stay—yet would I know—
Speak thou, Sicardi, did the power of art
Find no immediate cause?—Why dost thou turn?
Why shrink, unwilling to resolve my question?
I charge thee speak!
SICARDI.
Since you command my voice,
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It is confest no common cause, no ill,
Of all the train, which haunt the life of man
And tend by known degrees to dissolution,
Could thus have rack'd the suffering frame with torture
And led to speedy agonizing death:
Some baleful drug, some quick prevailing poison.—
THE KING.
What! poison saidst thou?
MAJONE.
No! it cannot be:
Whence could proceed attempts against a life,
Which all confess much dearer than their own?
THE KING.
If there's a villain, whose pernicious soul
Could form a crime of this infernal hue,
Mark him, just Heaven for my signal vengeance!
But utter all particulars!—I'll hear
Thy bare suspicions!
SICARDI.
At your sacred word
I must perforce constrain my tongue to speak
What in this presence, it would fain suppress:
The Prince's friends, in wildness of their grief,
Have thrown suspicion, where there least was cause,
And e'en accused Lord Raymond.
THE KING.
Ha! sayst thou Raymond!
VERINO.
Lyar and slave! 'tis false—no voice but thine
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I know thou think'st my age.—
THE KING.
Peace! Peace! Verino;
Grief and distraction have o'erwhelm'd my senses,
Trust me, brave veteran, if thy son be wrong'd—
I would, but cannot speak to thee, till time
Aids my crush'd faculties to bear this anguish.
(Exit, leaning on Majone, with attendants.
| Eudora | |