 | Ximenes |  |
SCENE I.
The Inquisition: at a short distance from Granada.Zaigri,
in prison.
This change, I must confess, was unexpected.
I knew the fluctuating scenes of life:
But when I last saluted mild Aurora,
I could not apprehend, that ere the moon
Rose o'er the earth, a dungeon would receive me.
I thought, the friendship of the noble regent
A shield impassive to the violence
Of this precipitate inquisitor.
The wretch presumes to force a generous mind.
I was, but lately, more than half a Christian;
I now relapse into a Mussulman.
I'd rather seem a profligate, a fool,
Than play the servile hypocrite. By Allah,
If aught could make me hate to do what's right,
'Twould be compulsion, urging rectitude.
—Where am I lodged?—This is a charnel-house,
There's something in it's dreadful style, it's manner,
Strongly significant of pain, and death!
Here silence, with distinct, and strong expression,
Speaks, in funereal eloquence, and tells me,
74
New ghosts, incumbent on the murky air,
Hover, and linger here, to execrate
Their murderers, ingenious to refine
On torture. To some distance from Granada,
I'm now removed. The regent is infirm;
Unable his imprisoned friend to rescue
From the keen fangs of rapid persecution!
All this, the brave must own, is terrible.
But, surely, 'tis ambition's glorious aim,
Greatly, to strive to be a perfect hero.
This is the time, to summon to my aid,
Of good, and great, whatever nature gave me;
All that Abdallah taught; all that I owe
To thought, to fortitude, to constant virtue!
Some hand unlocks that gate!—My eyes deceive me,
Or Leonora is advancing hither.
'Tis she! the ingenuity of love
Will glide through adamant!— [Enters Leonora]
My Leonora!
| Ximenes | |