University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

An Apartment in De Silva Castle.
Enter Donna Victoria and Margaretta.
VICTORIA.
No more! no more! It is, it is Montalban,
Beyond all hope restor'd! Mysterious heav'n,
How wond'rous, how inscrutable thy ways!
That he alone should 'scape the tempest's fury,
That his own child should save him from the deep!

MARGARETTA.
I joy to think your suff'rings now are past,
And that your future bliss—

VICTORIA.
My bliss? Alas!
A flatt'ring vision for a moment dazzled
My slumb'ring senses—But 'tis past, and now
I wake again, with keener pangs to abide
The mis'ry that awaits me.

MARGARETTA.
Heav'n forbid!
Have I not told you that your own Montalban—

VICTORIA.
Mine own Montalban, say'st thou? So, alas!
I fondly once believ'd him—But he's false,
And I'm most wretched!—Oh my Margaretta!
I've had such fatal confirmation
Of my worst fears, that not a hope remains
To cheer my poor desponding heart. Don Lopez—

MARGARETTA.
What said he?

VICTORIA.
That Montalban had resolv'd,
With her who claims the title rightly mine,
To quit Peru, and hither to return.
And is he not arriv'd?

MARGARETTA.
What proof is that?
Wreck'd as he is—

VICTORIA.
Thence springs my strongest doubt.
Preserv'd alone from the destructive waves,
All evidences of his crime absorb'd
In the same gulph that swallow'd up his wealth,
May he not hope that with impunity
In a new character he may impose
On my credulity?

MARGARETTA.
It may be so.
Beyond all doubt there was a mystery
In what he said to me about his wife.
Nay, now I recollect, he spoke of her
As one for ever lost to him. What if
You were yourself to see him?

VICTORIA.
Not for worlds!
I cannot trust myself to such a trial.

MARGARETTA.
What other means remain to prove the truth?
Justice to him and to yourself requires,
You should not leave a matter undecided
On which the happiness of both depends.
See him—converse with him—

VICTORIA.
No more—a thought
Has just occurr'd. Ask me no questions, Marg'ret,
But do as I direct. Let the best chamber
I' th' west wing of the castle be prepar'd—

MARGARETTA.
Why all this?

VICTORIA.
Ask me not.—Send Guzman hither—
Make haste.—I am not mad, my Margaret,
But desp'rate ills require a desp'rate cure.
[Exit Margaretta.
Now, if my project do but hold, I'll probe
His inmost soul, and ascertain the truth.

Enter Guzman.
GUZMAN.
Did your good ladyship enquire for me?
'Tis fortunate I just came back in time.

VICTORIA.
Where have you been?

GUZMAN.
Attentive to my duty;
Still mindful of your ladyship's commands.
He's doing very well.

VICTORIA.
Who?

GUZMAN.
Why the fellow,
Who 'scap'd so narrowly a drowning bout.
Another plunge had done his bus'ness for him.

VICTORIA.
You take strange liberties in your discourse.
Know you of whom you speak, sir?

GUZMAN.
Know him, madam?
Not I—I never saw his face before.
Do you, ma'am?

VICTORIA.
He's a stranger, and in want—
Sufficient titles, sir, for your respect.

GUZMAN.
I treated him respectfully enough;
Though, to say truth, he gave himself more airs
Than well became him. Would you think it, ma'am?
When I just hinted at the obligations
Conferr'd upon him—

VICTORIA.
How did you presume
To take a freedom so unwarranted?
If e'er again you venture to exceed
My orders, sir—

GUZMAN.
I humbly crave your pardon,
I didn't know, that is, I thought no harm
In just insinuating—

VICTORIA.
You did ill.
Know you not 'tis our duty to relieve
Those in distress, but that we lose all merit,
When in return we look for other tribute
Than the warm feelings of a grateful heart?

GUZMAN.
To be sure, ma'am.

VICTORIA.
Remember it in future.

GUZMAN.
Yes, ma'am.

VICTORIA.
How did you leave the gentleman?

GUZMAN
(aside).
The gentleman!

VICTORIA.
Why don't you answer, sir?

GUZMAN.
Why, I was telling your good ladyship.
When he could swallow, I administer'd
A cordial draught. It had a fine effect.
Then, as I found he had some fev'rish symptoms,
I threw in a narcotic. 'Twas a stout one.

VICTORIA.
I hope you have not rashly giv'n him
Too strong a potion.

GUZMAN.
Not a grain too much.
Trust that to Guzman.—Ma'am, I undertake,
If your good ladyship were indispos'd,
To make up such a med'cine, 'twould amaze you.
Some thirty drops, ta'en in a glass of wine
Just as you go to bed, then wrap yourself
Up warmly—

VICTORIA.
Have you seen the stranger since?

GUZMAN.
This very moment left him—just return'd.
Ev'ry thing right as I foretold—no fever—
Pulse firm and regular—the patient dropt
Into a sleep, from which he'll not awake
For certain hours—

VICTORIA.
Ar't sure 'tis so profound?

GUZMAN.
Quite certain—you may beat a drum at's ear
Without disturbing him.

VICTORIA.
'Tis very well.
You may retire; but see you go not forth;
I shall have other business for you shortly.
Send Roderigo hither.
[Exit Guzman.
This will render
The project which I meditate more easy.
Enter Roderigo.
Hark, Roderigo!—I have form'd a plan,
In which you must assist me.

RODERIGO.
Well, good lady.

VICTORIA.
Did you much notice the poor shipwreck'd stranger?
D'you think there is much diff'rence 'twixt his size
And that of Ferdinand?

RODERIGO.
Much diff'rence?—No.
Their stature, as I guess, is nearly equal,
And as for bigness, why 'tis much the same,
There may be some small matter—but 'tis trifling.

VICTORIA.
Go then to Ferdinand's partment quickly,
And unobserv'd bring hither the new habit
I order'd for th' arrival of the viceroy.

RODERIGO.
What will Don Ferdinand, though, say to this?

VICTORIA.
That's my concern. Bring it away directly,
And take it to the stranger.

RODERIGO.
To the stranger!

VICTORIA.
Aye, sir; but enter not, 'till from Teresa
You learn he's bound in a deep settled sleep.
Then cloath him in the garments you take with you,
And to the castle's western wing convey him,
(Still careful not to interrupt his slumbers)
Where Margaretta will direct you farther.
Do this discreetly, and my favour shall
Reward your zeal.
[Exit Victoria.

RODERIGO.
Oh ho! is't there you are?
Discreetly, say you? 'Tis a goodly phrase,
And suited to the circumstance. Well, well—
Just as you please—'tis no concern of mine.
Why, we sha'n't know De Silva Castle soon.
I'faith! we're like to have a rare assemblage.
There's one already hard at work below,
Don Gongora—I left him in the cellar,
Bestriding a full cask of Malmsey sack,
Like a true drunkard. If this other's like him,
All Spain cannot produce a third to match 'em.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Another Apartment in De Silva Castle.
Enter Clara followed by Ferdinand.
CLARA.
I tell you, you're as tiresome as Don Lopez.
You know I can't endure you when you're serious.

FERDINAND.
No, no; I've fairly caught you. You shall hear me.

CLARA.
Well, what have you to say with that grave look?

FERDINAND.
Though it may ill become me to exalt
My hopes beyond their level, yet when thus
I daily witness charms—

CLARA.
Pray stop a minute.
If you begin heroics, I must take
A decent state, and put on all the airs
Of a vain heroine in an old romance.
But I am ill at feigning; so leave off
Romantic flights, and talk like other people.
Why don't you speak?

FERDINAND.
Can nothing make you serious?

CLARA.
Why really, while you look so dismally,
I cannot help—But come—I ask your pardon—
I am quite serious. Now I hope I please you.
Come—what have you to say?—I'm all impatience.
Nay, now you're quite provoking. Wo'n't you speak?

FERDINAND.
In one word then—I love you!

CLARA.
Do you so?
I'm glad to hear on't, for I love you too.

FERDINAND.
Transporting sound! Oh say it once again!

CLARA.
What need is there of that? You know I do.
I've told you so a hundred times already.
I could not love you more, were you my brother.

FERDINAND.
Only as if I were your brother, say you?

CLARA.
Why is not that enough? I never had one,
And ne'er can wish for one while I have you.

FERDINAND.
Has your heart never whisper'd you, my Clara,
There is a sentiment more warm and vivid
Than what a sister for a brother feels?
Mine has instructed me.

CLARA.
What is't you mean?
I understand you not. From the first dawn
Of reason, when we toy'd and play'd together,
I'm sure I lov'd you better than myself.
What more can I do now?

FERDINAND.
Ah! did you feel
Like me, you would not ask. When absent from you,
I think each hour a day, each day a year;
I gaze with apathy on nature's charms,
And all the beauties of reviving spring;
The groves no more are vocal, the fresh breeze
From the gay flow'ret brings to me no odours—

CLARA.
But when you're with me?

FERDINAND.
Then all nature smiles,
My heart expands to transport, hours and days
Fly swift as moments, spring assumes new lustre—

CLARA.
Ah Ferdinand! If this indeed be love,
I've felt the same, or surely something like it.
Without you all is sad: I sit and muse,
But always on my Ferdinand; I sigh,
And, when I ask my heart what caus'd its grief,
It whispers me my Ferdinand is absent.
When I am with you—But you'll think me foolish—

FERDINAND.
Sweet innocence! thus on thy hand I swear
Eternal truth!—But hold—this may not be—
What am I doing? How has passion led
Rashly to nourish hopes beyond my reach,
And aim at such perfection?

CLARA.
Say not so.
In what respect am I superior to you?
You've been, you know it well, my best instructor;
From Marg'ret's lessons oft I've flown to you,
And listen'd with delight when you discours'd
Of truths, which, when she spoke them, had no charms,
But which, prefer'd by you, like heav'nly music
With magic influence stole upon my heart.
No, no, my Ferdinand, you wrong yourself,
And are unjust to me.

FERDINAND.
No, my lov'd Clara,
I know and do full justice to your worth.
Had I been plac'd by fortune in a station
More corresponding with th' ambitious hope
That warms my bosom, I might have aspir'd
At excellence, which now—Forgive me, Clara—
Pity me—think on what I owe to her
Whose gen'rous bounty made me what I am.

CLARA.
Can you then doubt of her exalted goodness?
Have you not always been her fondest care?

FERDINAND.
And shall I thus repay it?

CLARA.
Did she think
Your happiness at stake—

FERDINAND.
Ah! lead me not
Through flow'ry paths to a steep precipice,
Lest my brain turn, and all my constancy
Fade like a mist before the rising sun.
Oh! you have rais'd a phantom, which might draw me
Into a maze of errors—Look not thus,
So tenderly—

Enter Don Lopez.
LOPEZ.
Heyday! What's here to do?
My little rose-bud smuggled into corners?
Od's me! if that's the case I'll have my share.
(Advances towards Clara.
(To Ferdinand)
What! you'd monopolize her, would you, boy?

FERDINAND.
I would protect her against such as thou.

LOPEZ.
'Gainst such as me? Why, thou most puny milksop!
Ten urchins like thyself would not suffice
To make a man like me.—Stand off, I say—

CLARA.
Faugh! how he smells of wine!

LOPEZ.
I warrant me—
That Roderigo is an honest fellow,
And gave me of the best. In mellow sack
I drank thy health. The liquor was divine;
It cheer'd my heart, and through my veins transfus'd
Rich lusty blood—

[He attempts to seize Clara.
FERDINAND.
You come no nearer, sir—
(To Clara)
You'd better leave us—

CLARA.
Promise then you will not
Let him provoke you—

FERDINAND.
Fear not, but retire.

(Exit Clara.
LOPEZ.
Nay, an you 'scape me thus—What gone?—Od'slife!
Boy, give me way—

FERDINAND.
You pass no farther, sir.

LOPEZ.
Oh ho! sir champion! must you be chastiz'd?
(Draws his sword.
I'll teach you better manners— (Pushing)
—There—and there—

FERDINAND.
If you will force me to it—

(They fight—Ferdinand disarms Lopez.
LOPEZ.
Where's my sword?
Give it me back again.

Enter Donna Victoria.
VICTORIA.
What means all this?
Swords drawn?—Say, Ferdinand, whence rose this brawl?

FERDINAND.
To rescue Clara from his ribbald manners—
I need not tell you more. You see his state.

LOPEZ.
Heed him not, good madonna. Send him off.
I've something of importance to impart.

VICTORIA.
You'd better take some other time.

LOPEZ.
Why so?
The present time's the best. I am not drunk—
A little rais'd or so.—Send him away.

VICTORIA
(to Ferdinand).
Let some of my domestics wait without,
And leave us.

FERDINAND.
I obey you.
[Exit Ferdinand.

LOPEZ.
That is well.
'Tis a most malapert and forward boy,
Spoilt by indulgence.

VICTORIA.
Sir, you know him not.

LOPEZ.
No? Then I'll tell thee wherefore I am come.
Let me sit down, madonna, for my head
Seems somehow as it were—Now mark you me—
(He sits on the sofa.
I'm passing rich, you know. In lands and houses,
Good mortgages, and fat securities,
I'm master of ten thousand crowns a year.
All this, perhaps you'll think, might satisfy
A reasonable man; yet, so it is,
I am not satisfied.

VICTORIA.
That's surely strange.

LOPEZ.
Not strange at all; for, when I see my wealth
Daily increasing, when in my strong box
My dollars are prolific, and my ducats
And weighty moidores generate their like,
I oftentimes bethink me that myself
Should follow their example. Hey, madonna!
Were it not pity that the Gongoras
Should in my person be extinct? So, mark you,
I have been looking out for a fit bride.

VICTORIA.
I wish you good success, sir.

LOPEZ.
One, whose youth
And comeliness bespeak fertility,
Who'd bring me little Gongoras in plenty,
To cheer and cherish me when I grow old.
And whom—I know you will be pleas'd to hear on't—
Whom do you think I've honour'd with my choice?—
Nay, an you cannot guess—'Tis your niece Clara.

VICTORIA.
Surely you cannot seriously propose—

LOPEZ.
Softly, madonna! She is fair and young,
I'm very rich, and young enough in conscience.

VICTORIA
(rising).
Let's hear no more on't—

LOPEZ
(rising with difficulty).
No? Why not, I pray?
Ten thousand crowns a year! I'll prove it to you.

VICTORIA.
There's no occasion.

LOPEZ.
Marry but there is.
Who waits there, ho!
Enter Page.
Go to my chamber, sirrah!
You'll find a cedar casket. Bring it hither.
(Exit Page.
Doubt my veracity? I'll prove to you
What my pretensions are to woo your niece—
I'll shew you such a catalogue of wealth—
Plague on this potent sack! It 'gins to mount
And whiz within my brain—
(He staggers to the sofa, and throws himself on it.
Why stays the knave?
Enter Page.
Aye—that's the casket—give it me—begone!
[Exit Page.
Which is the key?—Confound this awkward lock!—
I've open'd it at last—now let me see—

[He turns over the papers.
Enter Margaretta.
MARGARETTA
(to Victoria).
All is prepar'd—

LOPEZ.
That's not it—no, nor this—
Let's see the next—Umph! umph! what ails mine eyes?
The letters dance before 'em, up and down,
This way and that—I'm surely very drunk!

[He drops asleep, and lets the box and papers fall.
MARGARETTA.
Look, madam, if he be not fall'n asleep,
And half his papers on the ground.—What's this?
[She picks them up.
“My cash account”—and this—“State of the monies
“Sent over by Montalban from Peru.”
If I were you, I'd look them over, madam.

VICTORIA.
Just now my mind is too much occupied;
Meantime replace them safely in the casket,
And lodge it in my chamber. Send some hither
To bear away this drunken profligate.

[Exeunt severally.
Enter Roderigo and Servants.
RODERIGO.
How's this? Asleep, my hero of the cellar?
Knock'd up already? Thou'rt a special fellow!

SERVANT
(shaking him).
He has't, i'faith!

RODERIGO.
Aye, he has got his dose;
That cask of malmsey did his bus'ness for him.
But come, my lads, we must not leave him here.

SERVANT.
He is so fat and heavy, we can't stir him.

RODERIGO.
Then take him couch and all. No matter where
You trundle him. 'Tis all the same to him.

[Exeunt with Lopez.