 | The Viceroy |  |
SCENE V.
MOLINA, CARASCO.MOLINA.
Amazement! in my life I never saw
His thoughts so troubled, and his steady soul
111
CARASCO.
This is nothing:
Your sapient governor, your moral Viceroy,
The saint, whom you have canonized so long,
Will rave, as I am told, from morn to midnight
In praise of poor Sylveyra's Indian girl.
MOLINA.
Peace! thou art splenetic:—I know, Carasco,
Thou lov'st him not: but, as I am a soldier,
I do not think, our country, or the world,
Has e'er produced a man more richly graced
With manly virtues, valor, truth and justice.
CARASCO.
Curse on his justice! for it robbed me once
Of the most luscious beauty, that e'er blest
A soldier's fortune in the chance of war.
MOLINA.
Peace! peace! thy very accusation crowns him
With purest praise.
CARASCO.
Plague on his purity!
'Tis hypocritical—
MOLINA.
Farewell, Carasco,
Thou'rt in the raging fit of envious spleen,
The pest of social pleasure: but if soon
Thou gain'st thy more companionable humour,
112
(Exit.
CARASCO,
(alone.)
If I forgive him, may I ne'er again
Seize the rich plunder of submissive beauty!
I know he is accustomed in disguise
To take his midnight walk of observation,
To pry into the manners of his people;
Perhaps indulging his own secret lust.
My sword is tinged with subtle Indian poison,
Whose slightest touch is mortal, and by Heaven
I will repay him for my wrongs, if e'er
He chance to thwart me in a nightly brawl.
| The Viceroy | |