University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

The Palace.
Alibech and Cyderia enter in tears, Odmar following.
Alib.
Away, away!—

Odm.
You wrong me, by the gods!—
What mortal force, or mortal courage could,
I did, and dared.—
Could I stand up against my brother's fate,
Or, what is more, against his folly?—No,
He cast life from him, as it were a cup
Of somewhat baneful—in a frenzy, rush'd
Amid a host of his steel-coated foes,
And perish'd.

Alib.
Yes, all glorious, peerless youth!
His promise is accomplish'd—“Death, or conquest!”
It was his parting sentence.—Hence, thou vile one!
Is it because the eyes of men, alone,
Have seen thy back, that yet thou darest to face
A woman? and, half breathless from thy flight,
To wooe a daughter of the Sun?

Odm.
Yet, hear me.
That very Sun, thine all-discerning sire,
Will witness that I fled not—As a tyger,
Baited by hunters, I retired reluctant,
My face still toward my foes—the guardian shield
Of routed Mexico, the very last
Who entered at her gates!

Alib.
No more, no more.
Thou never hadst a portion of my heart;
Now, thou hast all my hatred!—Where, where is he,
My Guyomar, my lost, lost love?—Ha, Odmar!
Has not thine envy of superior worth,
Leagued with these curs'd invaders, to unprop
Thy tottering country?

Odm.
No, injurious princess!
Your brother, had he look'd behind, had seen
Odmar, the guardian of his rear.—Yet, look
To do me right!—You are mine by compact, lady—
Nay, more, by sure necessity; the world
Affords you, now, no other choice!—In spight
Of froward affectation, you are mine;
Nor is there power in earth, or higher Heaven,
To wrest you from me, but with life!

Alib.
Thine, Odmar?
Thine, sayst thou, and by compact?—No, fond man!
I was affianced to the bravest—not
To him who sled—but, to my Guyomar,
Who stood, and fought, and fell, to save his country.

Odm.
Proud and insulting as you are, you shall not,
You shall not hope to rob me of your beauties.
That host, for whom I fought and bled this day,
Shall yeild you to my arms, howe'er reluctant;
The bride or victim of my love, I reck not!

Alib.
While there are daggers, poisons, lakes, or flames,
I cannot fear to 'scape the arms of Odmar!—
Stay, prince, and mark my final resolution.
I am the wedded of thy brother's spirit;
And, to my Guyomar, 'fore thee and Heaven,
I plight my faith for ever!—Here I kneel,
Vowing to keep my body from the stain
Of mortal touch, save that of death;
Till, born in brightness, on my father's beams,
I shall be wafted to the blest abodes,
Where love, and Guyomar, shall give new life,
And fill up immortality!

Odm.
Proud maid!
Then be it so—a hasty death, this day,
Shall make thee Guyomar's; or life, to-morrow,
Shall give thee all to Odmar!

[Exit.
Cyder.
Ah, my sister!
Why, with the stings of scorn, would you provoke
A mind, by nature prone to gusts of passion?
Alas, he is my only brother, now;
Consider that, my Alibech; reflect
He is the only brother that is left
To your Cyderia!

Alib.
Save me—see, Cyderia!
He comes, all hero as he died!—he comes,
Sheath'd in celestial arms, to take me hence!—
Nor waits the visit, which I had resolv'd
To Heaven and Guyomar!

SCENE II.

Guyomar enters.
Guy.
My love, my Alibech!—
Dost thou then fade, thou flower of Mexico?
I catch thee, thus, e'er thou declinest!

Alib.
There—
Take me—together—soul and body, both—
For both are thine!—Bear me beyond the hills—
To some strange world, where we may find, perhaps,
A freer air—for here are mists—too thick
For breath—all dark and stifling—Oh!

[Faints.
Guy.
Cyderia, help!—Alas, she faints, she dies—
And I am scarce alive!

Cyder.
Do you live, indeed?

Alib.
Where am I now?—how far upon our journey?

Guy.
You are in the arms of Guyomar, my love,
Your own blest bower!

Alib.
Am I all spirit, now?

Guy.
Spirit and flesh, as I am, Alibech;
But your's the fairest, purest, heavenliest, sure,
That ever cased a mind!

Alib.
You, also, feel as though you had not, yet,
Attain'd to immortality.

Cyder.
My brother!
Shall not Cyderia, also, share the joy
Of your return to life?

Guy.
My dearest sister!

[Embraces.
Alib.
We heard, my Guyomar, that you were hewn
To pieces, and that every Spaniard took
A portion of the precious spoil.

Cyder.
Say, brother,
What sword is this, that glitters at your side?
This plumey helmet, and this blazing corselet?
Are they the gift of some protecting god?
Or are they, rather, some consummate workmanship
Of this new world of Spaniards?

Guy.
These were, late,
The armour of that boasted chief of Spain,
The mighty Cortez—Hand to hand, we stood
Opposed in mortal duel—
And, on his casque I hew'd, while my good sword
Could hold its temper.—Ha!—why pales the cheek
Of my Cyderia?—Soft—I did but feign—
I did but feign—He lives, my sweetest sister,
Your Cortez lives, my girl! as true in love,
As he in war is valiant!

SCENE III.

Odmar enters.
Odm.
What, Guyomar return'd?

Guy.
My brother Odmar!
[Offers to embrace Odmar, who turns away.
Why thus cold, my brother?
Although in war, as love, you are my rival,
You are yet a rival most beloved—I know
You scorn'd to take advantage of my absence.
I come, the faithful witness of your valour;
And plead no better merit to our princess,
Than that I dared, from Odmar's deeds, this day,
To take my great example!

Odm.
Free, alive,
Unhurt?—O'er-ruling powers, 'tis wondrous, all!

SCENE IV.

Montezuma, and Orbellan, attented by Mexican Chiefs.
Mont.
See that our walls be doubly lined around!
And let our boats bear off the sick and maim'd,
Infirm old age, and helpless infancy,
Safe to the southern shore, that fronts the coast
Where now our foes entrench. Sambello, Malech,
See this perform'd!—

[They prostrate themselves, rise, and go out.
Guy.
My father, and my King!—

[Bends his knee.
Mont.
My Guyomar?—by my great sire, the Sun,
The noblest gift that he could send!—My child,
[Embraces.
Champion of Mexico, thy country's pride,
Thy father's boast, his younger Montezuma!
The gods, the gods be praised!—

Guy.
O, royal sir!
O'erwhelm me not with honours much unmerited.
I blush to say a son of Montezuma
Was, this hour, captive to the arms of Spain,
Even of that Cortez, whose protecting word
Late saved the royal house of Mexico,
From the insulting arms of false Traxallans.
I am the second offering of his bounty;
And, from his side, and head, and generous breast,
He pluck'd these arms, and put them on his slave,
To make the glory of your Guyomar
Look bigger than his shame!

SCENE V.

Melmar enters, and falls prostrate.
Mont.
Your business?—Rise.

Melm.
'Tis for the private ear
Of Montezuma, and the prince Orbellan.

Mont.
All else retire!—
[The rest withdraw.
Now speak.

Melm.
Most mighty sire,
Let not misdeeming hate, or pride imperial,
Reject the service which I come to offer.
Bold be my words, but honest!

Mont.
Forward—boldly.

Melm.
When the wide empire of the great Traxalla,
Bow'd to the arms of greater Montezuma,
Had he not ruled us with too straight a rein,
We had not cast for freedom.

Mont.
Your full purpose—
Speak it.

Melm.
To quit the galling yoke of Mexico,
We put on that of Spain—to scape the flood,
We plunged into the flame!

Orbel.
If I mistake not,
My friend, and kinsman, Melmar!—art thou not?

Melm.
Yes, my loved prince.

Orbel.
A valiant man, my liege!
And chief of our Traxallans.

Mont.
He is welcome.
Tell me, brave Melmar! I would gladly hear
Somewhat of these new lords, our Spanish inmates.

Melm.
Crush them, ye falling Heavens! Earth, sink beneath them!
Plague, famine, fire, consume them to their entrails,
And hell hounds gnaw their bones!—They are, they are,
In lust, more rampant than a summer's fly;
Lawless as winds, remorseless as the rocks,
And, as the gulph of Mexico, devouring!—
Then they are scornful, cruel, and insulting;
As though our Indians were but pismires, placed
For their proud foot to tread on!

Mont.
Wish ye not
To change your masters?

Melm.
Therefore I am come.
Say, sire, what terms Traxallans are to hope for,
When they have joined their powers to those of Mexico,
And scourged these pests back to the noisome fens,
From whence they first arose?

Mont.
Be witness, Sun and Moon, and all ye lights
That shed your comforts on our Indian world!
The day that frees us from these Spanish dæmons,
Who roll infernal thunders o'er our heads,
Shall see Almeria on the throne of Mexico;
And this, your native prince, your loved Orbellan,
Upon the throne of his imperial parents,
Traxalla and Acacis!

Melm.
'Tis enough.
Now mark me—Near the tent of their great Cortez,
My squadrons quarter—since our last engagement,
He did me somewhat of disgrace—Suppose,
Within this hour, I bring him to your presence,
Indignant as a tyger in the toils,
And tearing at his chains?

Orbel.
Your leave, my liege,
I pray, to make a party in this enterprize,
With a few gallant friends!

Mont.
The night's far spent,
And casts a favouring cloak upon your daring.
Glory, and all the gifts of Montezuma,
Attend on your achievement!

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

The Camp of the Spaniards.
Cortez enters unarm'd, except his sword.
Cort.
Heavens, what a glorious canopy is spread,
O'er unobserving silence!—how the moon
And wakeful planets dance their glittering maze,
In ceaseless evolutions!—Earth is no more,
From the creation to the last of things,
The tomb of all its offspring!—What a scope
Is here for human thought?—

A Mexican enters.
Mex.
From Guyomar—
In haste, and breathless!—Treason is at hand—
I dare no more—take warning!—

[Exit.
Cort.
Treason!—whence?
All are at quiet in their nightly death
Of sleep and silence.—Hark—what rustling's that?
Stand!—Come no nearer.

Orbellan enters suddenly, his sword drawn, and followed by Mexicans.—He lays hold on Cortez.—Cortez springs back, draws, and kills Orbellan at the first pass.
Orbel.
You are my prisoner.
Silence; not a word!

Cort.
Deeds were, perhaps, as well!

Melmar and Traxallans enter behind, and seize and bind Cortez.
Melm.
Bind, bind him, sure.

Cort.
Guards!—Vasquez!

Melm.
But another word—and this
Shall silence you for ever!—
[Offers a dagger to his breast.
O, he is slain,
Our prince is slain!—Soft—take the body up—
Lead off your prisoner!

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

The Palace.
Almeria and Alibech.
Alm.
'Tis sure, my sister,
Some secret purpose is in agitation,
Dark as the night!—The sound of clustring feet
Is all we hear; while crouds, succeeding crouds,
Throng toward the western gate.

Alib.
Our brother too
Is missing. O, the gods, the gods preserve
The last male pillar of the ancient house
Of great Traxalla!

Alm.
Listen!—Hear you not
The fife and golden ringer?

Alib.
Dismal sound—
It is the knell of death!

[A Bier born by Traxallans, others follow trailing their Ensigns.
Alm.
Ah, friends! whom bear ye,
With such a pomp of woe?

Trax.
Our prince, Orbellan—
Yet warm, and bleeding from the hand of Cortez.

Alib.
Unhappy brother!—

Alm.
O, the light,
The light of our great father's royal house,
Is now extinct for ever!

Alib.
Would to Heaven,
Would I had died for thee, my brother!—I
Had been well spared; or, haply, well away
From bonds and foul dishonour!

Alm.
Fatal Mexico!
Ill omen'd race of hostile Montezuma!
Father and mother, and both brothers now,
By you have fallen—Hear me, gods and dæmons!
[Kneels.
This Montezuma, blast him!—Let him stand
On the bleak heath, quite lopp'd of every branch
That now adorns him!—Sudden death engulph
His offspring! that no future name may rise,
To tell, by whom, our father's high built house
Was dash'd to ruin!

[Rises and follows the bier.

SCENE VIII.

Enter on one side Montezuma, Odmar, Nobles and Guards; on the other side Cortez in Chains, with Melmar, Mexicans, and Traxallans.
Mont.
Whence are those shouts?—Haste, soldier, learn the tidings.
What, the redoubted thunderer in the toils?
He, whose almighty breath, to our low world,
Can dictate bonds or freedom, life or death,
And change our gods and customs at his pleasure?
Spaniard, thy power, like lightning from the west,
Hath spent a sudden blaze, and now is vanish'd!

Cort.
Indian, there's not a link in these vile chains,
But what shall be a mountain's weight, to whelm
Thee, and thy Mexico!

Mont.
Thy voice still sounds
As that of thunder—but, we heed it not,
'Tis emptied of its bolt.—Yet, noble Cortez,
We do not yet forget we are thy debtors;
And, as the man we love, thou shalt command us
Much more than as the god we fear'd.—Speak, Cortez;
And, if the terms, thou wouldst enjoin, are such
As may not sink us to a servile depth,
Below the friendship of the man we honour;
We ratify thy will.

Cort.
O, 'tis beneath the mighty Montezuma
To chaffer with his slave.

Mont.
Yet, to that slave
We give, with honour, more than we would yield
To ten such iron-harnessed hosts, as those
Which thou hast led against us.

Cort.
Off with thy crown; and prostrate at my feet,
Sue thou for peace!—My answer, haply, then,
May not displease.

Mont.
Hence, with him, to the dungeon!—
Ere morn, we may determine of his fate

SCENE IX.

Guyomar enters in haste.
Guy.
The friend of Montezuma's house in bondage?
Shame, shame eternal!—O, my royal father!
[Bends his knee.
In haste, permit me to unbind the chains
That hang so heavy on our honours!

Mont.
Hold,
Rash boy!—thou know'st not with what insolence
He spurns our condescensions.

Guy.
O, my father!
He is noble; and great minds are known to rise,
Proportion'd to the weight that presses them.
Think, how he rescued you, your sons, and daughters,
From death, or instant bondage and pollution—
And me, a second time, his recent captive,
The recent object of his grace and bounty!
Perish all conquest that dishonour gains,
That infamy must follow!

Mont.
Well, set him going—let him do his spight!
We weigh our own reproach above his power,
And that of his licentious band.

SCENE X.

As Guyomar unbinds Cortez, Almeria enters.
Alm.
Stay—what are ye about?—He is my prisoner.
Bind him, yet faster!—Know you, Montezuma,
This wretch is warm in my dear brother's blood,
The last ill-fated son of great Traxalla?

Mont.
I know, fair princess, he was late the guardian,
Even of Orbellan, and his beauteous sisters,
When sudden ambush had foredoom'd us all
To sure perdition.

Alm.
O, it is not that
Which makes his merit in the baleful eye
Of Montezuma.
He is the butcher of Almeria's brother,
Of the last rival of the line of Mexico—
And thence derives his freedom.

Guy.
No, Almeria!
He is enfranchised by the voice of benefits,
That speak as loud as thunder—benefits
Conferr'd on us, on you! He stands protected
By every Indian virtue, that takes sanction
From faith or gratitude!—Your brother found
The fate he look'd for.

Alm.
Hence, audacious boy!
Or fear for thine own safety—Thus I offer him
To justice, to revenge!

[Draws a dagger.
Mont.
Hold yet, Almeria!—
Why wouldst thou sink me underneath a heap
Of foul ingratitude?—Observe me, Cortez!
The world shan't sway me to ordain thy death;
And love forbids me to appoint thy freedom.
Odmar, take thou the charge, and hold him safe,
Alike from friend and foe, from Guyomar
And from Almeria—Gods, conduct our ways!
And honour light us through this puzzling maze!

[Exeunt.