University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Interior of Telasco's Tent.
Enter Telasco and Capana.
TELASCO.
How wears the time?

CAPANA.
Two hours are nearly pass'd,
Since the bright sun his high meridian left.

TELASCO.
The day grows old, and we are still inactive.
What can those Spaniards find to keep them thus?
Would Cortez had the spur in him which I have!
He would not linger—Go—enquire the cause—
Bring me prompt answer.
[Exit Capana.
By my faith, this Spaniard
Is of a gallant nature, frank and noble.
I was to blame in doubting his good faith:
I do repent me of it. With what kindness
Did he pass over my impatient chidings,
And give me in return the blissful hope
Which now expands my heart—

Enter Capana.
CAPANA.
A Spanish warrior,
With a veil'd damsel, earnestly implores
Immediate audience.

TELASCO.
Think'st thou I can waste
My time on suitors now? Say I'm employ'd.

CAPANA.
I told them so. The warrior acquiesc'd,
But with augmented earnestness the damsel
Implor'd to see thee. Sighing she exclaim'd,
“He must receive me—urgent is my mission—
“His fame, his hopes, his love depend on it!”

TELASCO.
Admit her straight—
Exit Capana.
My fame, my hopes, my love!
What can this myst'ry mean?

Enter Capana with Zelama veiled.
TELASCO.
Leave us alone—
Exit Capana.
Who art thou, damsel? Wherefore seek'st thou thus
In phrase obscure and dark immediate audience?
If of my love thou know'st, impart it quickly.

ZELAMA.
Of what, alas! was once thy love—

TELASCO.
What was?

ZELAMA.
What was—but which no longer now—

TELASCO.
What mean'st thou?
Keep me not in suspense—speak—

ZELAMA.
Ask thine heart,
Consult that faithful monitor. 'Twill tell thee
If thou art constant to thy plighted faith,
If yet Zelama—

TELASCO.
If my heart yet love her!
There's not a drop, which from that fountain flows
Untinctur'd by my love! There's not a pulse
Beats through my frame, which owes not strength to her!
Witness, ye heav'ns, and ye presiding spirits—

ZELAMA.
Invoke not heav'n to hear thy perjur'd vows—

TELASCO.
Forbear—provoke me not—my nature's hasty
When 'tis thus touch'd. I do respect thy sex—

ZELAMA.
I ask no shield to ward me from thy vengeance;
Let it light on me, for my words shall wake it.
Know, faithless man! it is Zelama speaks them.

(She unveils.
TELASCO.
Zelama! Gracious pow'rs!

ZELAMA.
Yes! 'Tis Zelama,
Thy once believing, credulous Zelama!
She, at whose feet thou'st knelt, and pour'd forth vows
Of endless constancy; she, who now finds thee
Bankrupt in faith, in honour and allegiance.

TELASCO.
What say'st thou?—I forgetful of my faith!
Not purer is the flame, which from yon sun
Pervades this globe, than that which warms my heart.
Can'st thou accuse me thus? There was a time—

ZELAMA.
There was a time—alas! can I recal it?—
When I esteem'd thee Mexico's best hope,
Our country's guardian, ornament and pride.
I priz'd thee then, look'd up to thee for all
Which love could promise, honour could fulfil.
What art thou now?—Look from thy tent, and tell me!

TELASCO.
I have not merited this foul reproach.
If ever I deserv'd my country's favour,
If with thy love I e'er was bless'd, believe me,
I'm still unchang'd, still true to thee as ever.
What though I hither come array'd in arms,
Though 'mid the ensigns of these warlike strangers
My banners wave, still is my faith untainted;
'Tis for thy sake I join'd them—

ZELAMA.
Mine!—Oh wretched,
Oh lost Zelama!—Am I the pretext,
The flimsy veil to screen a rebel's guilt?
Where, where are flown those inborn sentiments
Of gen'rous loyalty, that patriot zeal,
Which grac'd thee once, for which alone I lov'd thee?
Ah! where is now that hero, that Telasco,
To whom our Mexico look'd up for safety?
Behold him! See the rebel to his king
Crouch to th' invading Spaniard; mark his banners
Wave in derision o'er his bleeding country!

TELASCO.
Thy words are daggers to my heart. Thou wrong'st me.
Wast thou not torn from me? Did not thy brother
Spurn my alliance? Hope abandon'd me;
Despair and vengeance occupied my soul:
This Spaniard promis'd to assist my love,
And force reluctant justice from the tyrant
Who kept thee from me. If I gave him credence,
If I too rashly yielded to temptation—

ZELAMA.
Hath treason then assum'd a novel aspect,
Are honour, faith, allegiance, grown mere words,
Which thou may'st sport with as best suits thy purpose?
'Tis to thy heart I speak. I know thy nature;
'Tis noble, princely and ingenuous.
Thou should'st have known me too; known that my heart,
Which felt, which lov'd thy virtues, had the force
To cast thee from me, should'st thou prove unworthy.

TELASCO.
Upbraid me still, but look not on me thus—
Weep'st thou?—I cannot bear thy tears—Oh turn!
Reject me not—Grant me a moment's thought—

ZELAMA.
Hear me, Telasco!—Thou hast known my heart,
How I esteem'd thee—lov'd thee—Nay, forbear—
That heart is yet unchang'd; yet would I rather
Plant there my dagger, with my vital blood
Wash out thine image, than accept a hand
Arm'd 'gainst it's sov'reign and insulted country.

TELASCO.
I see, I see th' extent of my offence!
Conviction rushes on my soul—I stood
On the dread verge of a steep precipice,
And my next step had led me to destruction.
Thy hand arrested me. Forget my fault—
Cast me not from thee—I may yet redeem
My error, still prove worthy of thy favour.
Thus at thy feet I register my vows,
On this dear hand breathe forth my raptur'd soul,
And pledge myself to act as thou would'st have me!

ZELAMA.
There spoke Telasco! Now again I know thee,
Now can I look on thee with pride, and hail thee
Our country's hero.—Come—the time demands
Immediate action; dangers lour around;
To Mexico already Cortez marches.
Know'st thou his plans?

TELASCO.
I had no cause to doubt him.
His shew was honest. When he spoke with me,
He talk'd of peace and treating with the king.

ZELAMA.
I fear his purposes.

TELASCO.
He shall be watch'd,
And closely too.—But we too long delay:
My forces are array'd; let me conduct thee
To where they stand expectant of my coming.
Thy presence will inspire them with fresh ardour,
And make them doubly brave. Then to thy brother!
Thou hast redeem'd me, and shalt plead my cause.

ZELAMA.
I'll do such justice to thy princely worth,
That he shall take thee to his inmost heart,
And with his sanction ratify thy hopes.

TELASCO.
Oh grant me but occasion to deserve it!
Place me 'mid perils great as my past errors,
Let death array'd in all his terrors face me,
I'll dare the glorious conflict, and, while arm'd
With thy approval, meet impending fate!

[Exeunt.