University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Alonzo, Secretary to Ximenes, sitting at a Table; Ink, Paper, Books, before him.
Alonzo,
alone.
Our noble regent's illness, every moment
Fast brings him to the confines of the grave:
A loss irreparable I shall grieve,
Soon as his breath expires; the gentlest master,
And the most generous friend;—but what am I?
Spain, and the Indies, when our regent dies,
Will lose a father!
A Servant enters.
Sir, two gentlemen;
The one from Florence, from the capital
Of England comes the other; and they wish
A private interview with Ximenes.

Alonzo.
You have their names?

Servant.
Randolfo, Sir, and Audley.

Alonzo.
They've been expected long; first, show them hither.

[The Servant returns with Audley and Randolfo; leaves them, and retires.
Alonzo
proceeds.
Most worthy Sirs, you're welcome to Granada;
Thrice welcome, in the name of Ximenes
I knew you well before you entered Spain;
Your high repute in learning; to these realms
You come, to realize a noble object;
To cultivate the human mind with arts
Ingenuous; to co-operate with one,
Whose heart, and talents, even excell his station.

Audley.
Your welcome, Sir, is civil; it is courtly;
I now expect a greeting to receive
From Ximenes himself; at his desire,
Warmly repeated, we have left the land
Where first we saw the light; and whence, mankind,
Seldom, but for some great and cogent reason,
Are voluntary exiles.

Alonzo.
Sir, the cause,
Why, now, our regent is invisible,
Except to those who smoothe the bed of sickness,
I'm sorry to announce; a painful illness,
And obstinate, presses him hard to-day;
Sinks all his faculties; and will, I fear,
Ere long, put out Spain's brightest luminary.

Randolfo.
The melancholy tidings that you give us
Of one, whose virtuous fame is spread o'er Europe,
Are, to the good afflictive; we shall wait,
Till Heaven is more propitious to our visit.

Audley.
Waiting, with servile patience, on the great,
Perhaps may suit the policy of Florence;
But we, rough, honest sons of Saxon freedom,
Never lose sight, or never ought to lose it,
Of man's original equality.
Yet, we are not barbarians; to invade
The languid hour of sickness; and to urge
It's pressure, is remote from my intention.
I know the virtues of Spain's cardinal;
But I would have it known, on what foundation
My mind was fixed, when I took leave of England.
I left it, with a full, and firm resolve
To do my duty; that, while I performed,
I felt that he, who, with man's best ambition,
Devotes his life to learning, and to virtue,
Deserves esteem and friendship, even from kings.
Thus Horace, though, sometimes, to freedom's foes
He deigned to offer incense, thought, and acted;
And thus, Augustus, though he shackled Rome.

Alonzo.
Persue that strain, till we forbid it, here.

Audley.
Then, doubtless, I proceed with greater pleasure.
The mind, enriched with intellectual stores,
And in that wealth delighting, will assert
The rights of liberty and independence,
Whether it dwells in Britain, or Iberia.
Few are it's wants; the subjugated senses
Dare not insult it with their low desires:
And why doth he persue, why idolize
Sublime examples, but into his soul
To work their greatness; and from them to learn,
With equal spirit, ever to distinguish
The bold decisions of our pride, and caprice,
From Heaven's eternal, and it's just decrees?

Alonzo.
Thy speech, ingenuous Englishman, transcribes
The very heart, and soul of Ximenes.
Why, he has, now, for fifty glorious years,
Been toiling, watching, risking every danger,
In all the sacred rights of human nature;
In the great charter issued from Heaven's court,
To equalize our subjects.—Would you walk
Some minutes on the terrace; from that door
It lies; I long to bring congenial spirits
Together; you shall soon from me receive
A message.
[Exit Alonzo.

Randolfo.
For your own advantage trust me;
By flexibility alone, good Audley,
We can expect (though strong our other titles)
Ease with the world, and favours from the great.

Audley.
A conscious, rational, immortal being;
A being, who should owe his satisfaction,
His raptures of existence, to his God,
And to himself alone, had better want
That flexibility, however specious
The fruits it brings, than in his bosom bear
The mortifying sense, that he has acted,
Even for an hour, the hypocrite, and slave.

[Exeunt Audley and Randolfo.