University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

VELORA,
Discovered in an Indian dress and a pensive attitude, with a book: after a short pause.
Thou mild divinity! persuasive power!
Thou guide and glory of our Christian rulers!
Protect thy secret votary! I read
Thy clear unquestioned truth, thy matchless mercy
In all my fate, and in the heavenly mind
Of my brave guardian, my beloved Sylveyra:
Yet pardon me, thou pure, indulgent power!
That still to India's unenlightened worship
I pay a forced observance! O forgive
This filial heart, whose only fallacy
Aims to ensure an aged father's peace.

SCENE II.

CONSTANTIA, VELORA.
CONSTANTIA,
(entering.)
Still at thy orisons! my dear Velora;
Good angels waft thy every vow to Heaven,
And plead for purity so like their own!

VELORA.
Then will they teach me to repay your kindness,
And all the bounty of your generous son,
Which soothed my woes, and makes captivity,
Beneath your provident parental care,
More sweet than freedom.

CONSTANTIA.
In thy glowing heart,
My lovely Indian, like thy genial clime,
Rich nature reigns; thy gratitude o'er-rates
Compassion's casual services.

VELORA.
Your pardon!
To rate them justly is my reason's pride:
Hence memory paints them in her strongest colours:
I see the furious sons of Portugal,
Roused to fierce anger on Cambaya's shore
By Moorish fraud, and our perfidious king;
I see them, bursting like a flood of fire
Athwart our peaceful grove, where fixt we listened
To the mild precepts of our aged sire:
The ruffian soldiers in his hoary locks
Twist their fell hands; and with uplifted falchions
Demand his hidden treasure.

CONSTANTIA.
What a scene
For thy soft filial heart!

VELORA.
The holy Bramin
Pleads only for his child:—the furious robbers
Tear from my neck the strings of precious pearl,
Threatening worse violence:—but swift to save us
The blest Sylveyra comes.

CONSTANTIA.
'Twas Heaven, that sent him
In pity to thy virtues.

VELORA.
His bright eye
Flashes rebuke; and at his awful mandate
Keen avarice and murder shrink abashed,
As from the presence of an angry God.

CONSTANTIA.
Thy flattering picture charms a mother's heart.

VELORA.
O! had you heard with what angelic sweetness
He banished terror from our troubled minds!
Music is harsh to that consoling voice:
He raised us from despair: he kindly promised
To place my father, and his helpless child
In the protecting walls of distant Goa.

CONSTANTIA.
Tho' difficult the task, he has achieved it,
And thy full gratitude exceeds his bounty.

VELORA.
No! dear Constantia! why is Heaven adored,
But for such blessings, as I owe to him?
Is he not all maternal love can wish?

CONSTANTIA.
Yes! my Velora, with a conscious pride
I watched his youth, have seen the richest bloom
Of honor, glowing on his ripened spirit:
O! how unlike his sex! those hypocrites,
Who humbly bend to innocence and beauty,
But cover falsehood with devotion's mask!

VELORA.
What injuries excite thy gentle nature
To these severer thoughts?

CONSTANTIA.
In some fit hour
I will unfold to thee a wretched story,
Touching the cruel father of Sylveyra,
That will amaze thy tenderness, and make
E'en the warm current of thy glowing veins
Run cold with horror: but thy present danger
Claims, dear Velora, our immediate care:
Thou'rt still a captive; still a Bramin's daughter.

VELORA.
O! do not think that even love can tempt
Velora to forget her filial duties,
And wound the bosom of an aged father,
Who watched unceasing o'er her early youth,
Nor asked existence, but to guard his child!
I know how firmly his pure heart is wedded
To all our ancient rites; and that his spirit
Would rather give me to the tomb, much rather,
Than yield his daughter to a foreign hand;
That worst pollution to the race of Brama!

CONSTANTIA.
When first my generous son, beneath my care
Placed thee, a lovely captive, I observed
His growing passion with a mother's fears:
But charmed, Velora, by thy winning sweetness,
I own I gazed upon your chaste affections
With such pure joy, as the good angels felt,
When first o'er Eden's infant bowers they hovered,
And fondly viewed the new created pair,
While innocence and love were all their portion:
Yet still there's danger, lest ye should imbitter
The virtuous Bramin's closing eve of life:
Canst thou believe thy love will long elude
The quick observance of an anxious father?

VELORA.
Alas! too soon will that unhappy father,
Worn out with age, the martyr of affliction,
Be severed from the idol of his care:
One dying wish he formed, and thy dear son
Has nobly promised to restore his captives
Safe to their native seat: 'tis there my father
Yet hopes to purify his parting soul:
There will I tend his short remains of life,
Calm all his fears, and sooth his latest pang.

CONSTANTIA.
O! thou dear paragon of filial duty!
Blest be thy every purpose! but my child,
I have yet heavier fears!

VELORA.
Whate'er they are,
O! yet awhile suppress them! for behold
My father bends his feeble steps towards us.

SCENE III.

CONSTANTIA, VELORA, PERSOD.
PERSOD.
May mighty Brama, and his purest spirits
Watch o'er our gentle friend, whose pitying eyes
Have looked so kindly on an old man's sorrows,
And this sole treasure of his trembling age!
Has aught yet reached thee from our dear protector,
Thy gallant son?

CONSTANTIA.
No! venerable sire,
He's yet engaged upon the neigbouring shore
To treat with fiercest foes, with whom, I fear,
His sword must arbitrate: protect him Heaven!

PERSOD.
Such prayers are mine: nor can thy bosom feel
A dearer interest in his precious life.

VELORA.
Still let us cherish hope! nor yield our hearts
To false suggestions of ill-grounded fear!
If the mild works of peace demand his presence,
Does not persuasion, dwelling in his voice,
Assure us of success? if cruel war
Call him reluctant to the fields of blood,
Where'er he turns, does not resistless valour
Guide the keen lightning of his conquering sword,
And victory guard him, with her golden wings?

PERSOD.
Alas! my child, a more immediate terror
Has seized my trembling heart: thou know'st, the Viceroy
Saw thee attendant on my helpless age:
He dwelt upon thy beauties with an eye
Of fierce desire.

CONSTANTIA,
(aside.)
Good Heaven! it was my fear.

VELORA.
O! my kind father, from thy fondness springs
This vain surmise; for is not mighty Castro
Most noble, generous, merciful, and just?

PERSOD.
The purest virtue melts in passion's flame,
When boundless power appears a ready pander
To every wild desire: where is our refuge,
Defenceless as we are?

CONSTANTIA.
Unhappy father?

PERSOD.
Wilt thou assure my trembling heart, that when
These dim eyes close in death, thou wilt protect
My child, nor yield her to his guilty passion!

CONSTANTIA.
Hear me thou good old man! before the throne
Of Heaven's great father kneeling, thus I swear,
By all the sorrows, I have known myself,
And by the recompense, my soul expects
For all its sufferings, in a purer world,
I will protect thy daughter as my own.

PERSOD.
Enough! enough! O! let me wound no more
Thy tender bosom, with an old man's terrors!
I will retire; and pray the gracious Brama,
To aid the virtuous purpose of thy soul.

VELORA.
Let thy Velora on thy steps attend!

PERSOD.
No! my sweet child! rest with thy gentle friend!
I go to bend before the lord of life,
The one, that ever was, and to implore him,
That in what form soe'er he deigns to clothe
My parting spirit, it may still be near thee;
And in these dangers, that my fondness dreads,
Still hover round thee, and preserve my child.

(Exit.

SCENE IV.

CONSTANTIA, VELORA.
CONSTANTIA.
O thou unfortunate! if Castro love thee,
Farewell to all our peace, for in his love
Lies misery and ruin!

VELORA.
Is he not
The noble character, that fame reports him?

CONSTANTIA.
Yes! my Velora, when his manly spirit
Appears unsullied by the mists of passion,
It is the very mirror, that presents
The perfect form of honor.—Yet beware!
If ever Castro speak to thee of love,
Drop not a word, from which he may collect
Thy fond attachment to Sylveyra's virtues,
For if thy beauties have inflamed the Viceroy,
(I know his nature) 'twill be jealous passion,
And frantic as the tyger o'er his prey,
Whose fierce suspicion, and whose fell revenge,
Would drink the life-blood of his fellow savage,
For daring but to look on't—trust my care!
And keep this counsel treasured in thy heart!

SCENE V.

VELORA, THE VICEROY.
THE VICEROY,
(entering)
(aside...)
Alone by all my wishes! her soft bosom
By pensive solitude prepared for love! (... aside.)

Can we not teach the beautiful Velora
To lose the memory of Cambaya's shore
In the gay pleasures of our sumptuous city?
Will young Sylveyra rob us of those charms,
And to her desolated country bear
His lovely charge?

VELORA.
My lord, his word is past.

THE VICEROY.
Who, that from ocean's dangerous depths had brought
A pearl of such pure lustre, would throw back
The peerless gem?

VELORA.
That pity, which alone
Inspired the brave Sylveyra to protect,
And lead us to this realm, will prompt him still
To crown the just hopes of an aged exile.
My heart, my lord, can form no dearer wish,
Than to attend my father's injured age:
This sacred duty calls me, and must plead
My pardon with your highness.

THE VICEROY.
Stay, Velora!

VELORA.
My lord! my lord! release me! nor oppress
A helpless captive!

THE VICEROY.
By my life I worship
Thy wonderous charms: It is my heart's ambition
To court the kindness of thy gentle bosom:
If thou wilt meet the passion of my soul,
My proud affection will delight to throw
The richest splendors of dominion round thee,
And make thy station, like thy matchless beauty,
The gaze and envy of this Eastern world!

VELORA.
Reflect, my lord, that filial cares alone
Claim, and possess Velora's every thought!

THE VICEROY.
No more, thou lovely coy one! force no more
From those soft lips such ill-agreeing sounds,
While every beauty in thy blushing form,
With all the energy of warm expression
Tells nobler truths, more consonant to nature;
While these enchanting eyes inflame my soul,
And sparkle promises of bliss too high
For human voice to utter. In my arms
Come let me clasp thee!

VELORA.
O! forbear, my lord!
Nor force me to alarm an aged father!
I must retire: and may the God you serve,
Instruct your cooler reason to renounce
These fatal thoughts!

(Exit.
THE VICEROY,
(alone.)
O! thou luxuriant beauty!
Thou must be mine, for all thy weak resistance
Is like the failing mound, that art would raise
To stop the rising billows.

SCENE VI.

THE VICEROY, GARCIA.
THE VICEROY.
What would Garcia?

GARCIA.
My Lord, I bring great news: our foes are scattered,
The brave Sylveyra has dislodged the Moors.

THE VICEROY.
Now blest be Portugal's protecting saint!
The young Sylveyra gallantly pursues
The example of his race.

GARCIA.
Yet, noble Castro,
We see thee tempted from the paths of fame
By love's illusive fire:—tho' thy great soul
Should, like the Eagle, keep its native height,
And scorn to gaze but on the beams of glory.

THE VICEROY.
O Garcia, I regard with envious wonder
The steady virtues of thy happier mind:
No rebel passions can dethrone thy reason;
Mine is the slave of appetite: I feel
My blind attachment to this lovely Indian
Death to my peace, and poison to my fame,
Yet doat on my perdition: ne'er did passion
Reign so despotic in my subject heart,
Since our young days, when my disastrous love
Deprived the injured Isabel of life.

GARCIA.
Tho' all her sorrows have so long been buried,
Her fate still touches me, and to this hour
I curse her cruel father; whose proud soul
Crushed the fair hopes of your appointed nuptials,
And sunk his wounded daughter to the grave;
Tho' rumour whispers that her death was feigned.

THE VICEROY.
O! couldst thou bring that martyred saint to life,
Then might I worship thee: No! Garcia, no!
'Twas not her father; 'twas my fury killed her,
The jealous fury of a mind distracted.
In some convenient season, I will tell thee
All the past crimes, and frenzy of my life,
For thou wilt turn them to my preservation;
Thy generous counsel will oft set before me
My madness past; by friendship's guardian power
Wean my weak spirit from its present passion,
And save me from myself:—but see Molina.

SCENE VII.

THE VICEROY, GARCIA, MOLINA.
THE VICEROY.
Now, Garcia, haste, and summon to our presence
The wretched parent of this gallant victor!
For years secluded in domestic sorrow:
I have not seen her, but we now have tidings,
That will instruct e'en grief itself to smile.
(Exit Garcia.
Say! is this brilliant victory dearly bought
By our brave soldiers' blood?—whom have we lost?

MOLINA.
Never did Portugal's prevailing bands
Obtain such vantage at a cheaper rate.

SCENE VIII.

THE VICEROY, MOLINA; GARCIA entering with CONSTANTIA, and VELORA, in veils.
THE VICEROY.
Still, gentle lady, in the veil of sorrow!
Thy son's exploits shall turn these mourning weeds
To robes of triumph:—now, Molina, speak
The deeds of this young conqueror!

MOLINA.
Our foes,
Who on the neighbouring hills encamped apart,
Disclaimed all treaty; threatening e'en the siege
Of this imperial city: with this aim
The artful Renegado had assembled
All the confederate princes in a fort
On the adjacent shore, whose chosen guard
Trebled our scanty number: by surprise
The brave Sylveyra made a fierce attack;
Twice to the earth he struck the base Coutino,
And slew the author of this dangerous league.

THE VICEROY.
By Heaven this action binds him to my heart.

CONSTANTIA.
Great God of battles! to thy throne I bend
And thank thee with my tears.

MOLINA.
Beside that traitor,
The Moorish Chieftain fell: instant dismay
Seized all their host; and infinite had been
The general slaughter, but the just Sylveyra
Proclaimed free pardon to the native Indians.

VELORA.
Reward him for it, all ye host of heaven,
Who teach him still to emulate your nature,
And be the guardian of a fallen race!

MOLINA.
This well-timed mercy ratified our conquest;
And, the great business of his mission ended,
Ere now Sylveyra is embarked for Goa.

THE VICEROY.
He shall have noble welcome. Gentle mourner!
Let every trace of your past grief be lost,
In the gay triumph of your gallant son!

CONSTANTIA.
Your generous kindness to a mother claims
Her praise, but my full heart can only thank you
With silence, and with tears.

(Exit with Velora.
THE VICEROY.
Molina haste!
And bid our Citizens with festive triumph
Meet this young Victor!
(Exit Molina.
Garcia, though I love him.
As if he were my son, for he inherits
The noble virtues of our vauled friend,
Yet my heart tells me, his return portends
I know not what of ill.—Didst thou observe
With what a fond idolatry of praise
The warm Velora magnified his mercy?

GARCIA.
O! my dear lord! remember, that we stand
Upon enchanted ground! hence, let us fly!
Then may I clear your heart, that field of honor,
From weeds of love and jealousy, whose growth
Would choke the harvest of your rich renown.

THE VICEROY.
Yes! honest Garcia, thou shalt freely use
A right inherent in a soul like thine;
Search, and correct, my foibles, till thy friend
Shall bless thee as the guardian of his glory.

(Exeunt.

SCENE IX.

CONSTANTIA,
(entering alone.)
At length he's gone; and my o'erburdened heart
May vent its perturbation: cruel Castro!
How has thy presence wakened all my wrongs,
Yet with them all my love! O! did not memory
Still haunt me with thy base neglect and scorn,
How would my heart again embrace delusion,
And idolize thy nobleness of nature!
Shall I, as if ascending from the grave,
Burst like a spectre on thy aching sight,
And while thou'rt lost in horror and amazement,
Speak transport to thee in soul-piercing sounds,
And fondly cry, Sylveyra is thy son?—
Perhaps the hardened heart, that could endure
To leave his infant innocence an outcast,
Might still disclaim the offspring, it deserted;
And shall I court thy pride to own thy child?
Save me from such abasement! my proud soul
Its secret shall retain:—in my last hour
I will amaze thee with a wondrous tale,
And teach the libertine, the cruel father,
To melt, and to revere the sacred force
Of female virtue, and maternal love!