University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

—The Garden of the Royal Palace.
Alvarez and Elvira.
Elvira.
Alvarez, in compliance with thy wishes,
I meet thee here, a proof of my affection,
If of affection further proof be wanting.

Alvarez.
I question not thy love, and yet this day
May put it to an unexpected test.

Elvira.
Explain—what means this unexpected test?

Alvarez.
Since our last interview I sought the Prince,
And urg'd my prayer—his sanction to our union;
Confess'd my humble claim to his alliance;
Reminding him of service to the state.
Surveying me with searching eye, he said,
“Is this a time to dream of love and dalliance?
“This awful moment while the hand of Heaven
“Holds o'er our threaten'd heads the trembling balance,
“Charg'd with our country's fate?—far different cares,
“Far different prospects should engage thy thought;
“Nor for a love-tale leave a falling realm.”
No more he deign'd, retiring in disgust,
In which I mark'd his secret pride of soul,
Which said, in language not to be mistaken,
I wish'd to purify my blood's foul stream,
By sullying the fair fount of the Braganzas.

Elvira.
Thou canst not feel more sharply than Elvira
The Prince's opposition to our marriage;
But wait, amidst the turbulence of times,
Till heaven in gracious mercy calms the storm:
Then here, or in some region far remov'd,
His heart may yield propitious to our wishes:
Justly he told thee, 'twas no time for love.

Alvarez.
No time for love! inform me then the time;
Th' unfeeling Regent, should he seek those climes,
May find some loftier rival to my hopes:
Then thinkest thou that I will follow him,
To swell his train, and, disappointed, see
Thy beauty in th' embraces of another?
No! no, Elvira, tho' thou know'st my love
Stands not in competition ev'n with life;
A scene like this, my soul could never brook;
But if Elvira wishes for my death—

Elvira.
Talk not of death, but put me to the proof,
And say, what wishes labour in thy heart?
Know, if reluctant to the purpos'd voyage,
Thou think'st thy prayer is destitute of hope,
I now am ready to renounce my fortunes;
To quit my friends, to sacrifice my all,
And leave the splendors of a court for thee.

Alvarez.
Not so severe, and painful is the trial:
Where'er we roam, the finger of Contempt
Will point not at us for our humble station.
But, hast thou not ambition in thy soul?
Sleeps in thy veins the blood of the Braganzas,
That thus thou canst forego the charms of empire?

Elvira.
What meanest thou Alvarez? well thou knowest me
Of no aversion to the scene of courts:
Yet these, ev'n these, would I desert for thee.

Alvarez.
Were mine a throne to offer to thy beauty,
How should I joy to see Elvira fill it!
That brow would well become a diadem;
And 'stead of borrowing, augment its radiance.

Elvira.
Disperse this mystery that thus clouds thy speech—
It seems to jest; and yet thy serious eye,
Bespeaks thy bosom pregnant with deep schemes.
Thy lips seem charg'd with matters of high moment.

Alvarez.
We live, Elvira, in eventful times:
With every moon our fortune's prone to change:
To day the Monarch's head sustains a crown;
That head to-morrow humbled in the dust:
And he, but only yesterday a slave,
To day shall stretch his sceptre o'er a world.
Thou toldest me my fortunes should be thine,
That thou would'st join me in the lowest sphere:
Then surely thou would'st meet me on a throne.

Elvira.
A throne!—a diadem!—you trifle with me;
And mean to sport with my credulity!

Alvarez.
A jest would ill become those lips, Elvira,
While thoughts momentous labour in my soul!
Thou art the peerless gem for which I pant;
And canst thou blame Alvarez, should he wish
To see that jewel's lustre in a crown.

Elvira.
I scarcely dare conceive thy latent meaning!
To grace my temples with a diadem!
Resolve this riddle—banish all suspense!

Alvarez.
Know then thy friend Braganza's fate approaches!
His boasted beam of royalty obscur'd,
What is Braganza, but in name a prince?
A higher genius awes him and controls:
Press'd by Napoleon's power, he is no more
Than were a wren within the eagle's gripe!
With ease o'ercome!—he abdicates his throne!—
It must be fill'd—what if Alvarez fill it?

Elvira.
Thou fill the throne of Portugal!—thy words
Are thunder in my ears—speak—art thou leagu'd
With him, the enemy of all mankind,
Whose boasted conquests are rank usurpations;
Who rules the nations with an iron hand?
Soars thy ambition to a traitor's name?—
Turn'd vile usurper, whose foul deeds of death
The pen of History shall write in blood?
Think'st thou Elvira will unite in crimes,
And smile upon the grandeur of a theft?
Thou knowest not Elvira—true, I'm proud;
But never shall a treason taint this heart.
Mistaken man!—beyond the tyrant's reach
Prepar'd to fly, the Prince will shun his power.

Alvarez.
Vainly he hopes to 'scape impending fate,
And deems the hosts of France in sluggishness;
Undone beyond the powers of restoration;
Wakes from his dream, and finds himself a vassal.

Elvira.
Ha! is it so?—then, duty be obey'd!
In thee, my simple confidence repos'd!
Deceiv'd, I fondly priz'd thee for thy virtues!
All love is fled—it holds no competition
'Twixt me, and firm allegiance to my Prince,
For ever, more the parent than the sovereign:
For all his friendship shall I thus requite him,
And say to Gratitude, “I know thee not?”

Alvarez.
Then, to the fatal scaffold yield my head,
And with a calm indifference, see a heart
Torn from its seat, which only sighs for thee.
Go, hasten to the Prince—enjoy thy triumph;
Exulting pityless o'er fallen Alvarez;
Report what thou hast heard, and seal his fate.

Elvira.
Thou knowest that I wish not for thy death;
But thou hast forfeited on me all claim;
Who deem'd thy heart unsullied as the snow;
Not blacken'd by a crime that would disgrace
The humblest and the meanest of mankind.

[Going.
Alvarez.
Ha! I must now dissemble, play the hypocrite.
Away with love, less precious than my life,
In danger trembling on a woman's tongue.
[Aside.
Elvira, do not leave me thus in anger:
If then esteem, disinterested love,
Which would have plac'd thee in a loftier sphere,
Too warm resentment of the Prince's scorn,
Have led my feet to stray from Virtue's path,
Is it for thee, for whom I dar'd to sin,
Thus cruel, to upbraid me with the crime,
(If call'd a crime that sought thy happiness?)
Say rather, should'st thou not by gentle means
Restore thy friend to duty and allegiance?
For thou canst mould Alvarez at thy will.

Elvira.
Ought I to trust thee? can the heart deep stain'd—
Can the foul blot of Treason be wash'd out?
Ought I, on such a weak and slender thread,
Confide the Prince's safety, whilst the storm
Gathers around and howls for his destruction?

Enter Emilia.
Emilia.
Your pardon for this sudden interruption:
The Princess anxiously expects your presence.

[To Elvira.
Elvira.
Forgive, Alvarez, my abrupt departure.

[Exeunt Elvira et Emilia.
Alvarez.
Curse on the fatal secret, that escap'd me!
Curse on my idiot tongue, that trusted woman!
My childish passion has struck out a spark,
Which kindles a volcano to destroy.
Why, heedless of my safety, slept my dagger—
It might have done its office—done it safely.
Too deep in treason am I to retreat;
A pebble must not now impede my steps,
When rocks I have to climb to my ambition
Oh! where was thought that left me at the moment!
Now, now my bosom with a tempest swells;
When this small weapon had preserv'd a calm.
[Looking at a dagger.
Yet may she not betray—for still she holds
A portion of affection for my life.
But wherefore waste I thought? If not betray'd,
I bind the lordly lion in my toils,
That soon to me must crouch for his existence.
But let me seek Bellegarde, whose friendly hand
Would clothe me with the purple, fix the crown,
And set the frown of Fortune at defiance.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

—An Apartment in the Palace.
Princess of Brazil and Elvira.
Princess.
The Prince's noble spirit will not brook
To hold his sceptre at a tyrant's nod;
And more disgraceful yet, to fill a throne
Beset and over aw'd by Arrogance:
Watch'd by the spies and minions of their master,
Unsafe, existing on each hour's caprice.
What is it, but to kneel a royal slave;
A splendid triumph of a Slave's ambition?

Elvira.
I know the Prince's height of soul—sublime!—
Would rather reign the Lord of some poor isle,
An hungry soil scarce yielding life's support,
Where Liberty resided, than command
Luxuriant realms, and hear his subjects groan.

Enter the Prince.
Prince,
[Taking Elvira's hand and surveying her attentively.]
Elvira, tell me, hast thou lately seen
Alvarez—where?—and when?—and what discourse?
This morn, he importun'd me for thy hand—
Say, dost thou think him worthy thy regard?
Art thou not much mistaken in his virtues?
Too oft beneath the smile of love and friendship,
Too often lurks the demon of destruction.
Long had this man possess'd my confidence;
Loaded with honors, that the nation envied:
And yet I view'd him as a second self.
Friendships are sometimes hollow, and a canker
Lurks in the bud, and blasts its opening bloom.
Elvira, has he not thy wishes still?

Elvira.
Let me confess, Alvarez won my love,
But holds it now no more; 'tis lost for ever!
Press me, my Prince, no further on this head;
Spare my poor heart the sad, ungrateful office:
Withdraw your confidence, for danger hangs,
Hangs by a single hair upon your life.
You walk towards the precipice of Fate.
Watch well the wily minister of France;
He may have thrones to offer.

Prince.
Ho! who waits?
[Enter an Attendant.
Haste and command Alonzo to our presence.
Elvira, it requires no lynx's eye
To see within that heart of thine, a war
Between thy love and loyalty—enough,
The fountain that I fancied pure is foul:
The rock, I deem'd my confidence had trod,
Trembles beneath its foot, and proves its grave.
[Enter Alonzo.
Then instantly prepare ye for the voyage.
[To the Princess and Elvira.
Alonzo, our suspicions are confirm'd:
[Exeunt Princess et Elvira.
Alvarez' heart is rotten to the core.
Let spies attend upon his every step;
Observe the wily winding of the Gaul,
The minister, the treacherous tool of France,
Who covers chains and dungeons with a smile:
See! how the Villain's poison shows its power!
A thousand eyes are scarce enough to watch them.

Alonzo.
My Prince, that traitor walks not unobserv'd—
But what new matter?

Prince.
Thou shalt be inform'd;
The council claims our presence; haste, Alonzo,
For life and freedom tremble on the moment.

[Exeunt in haste.

SCENE III.

—An Apartment in Bellegarde's House.
Bellegarde, Girronde, Larron, and other Conspirators.
Bellegarde.
Well met my friends; the fate of Portugal
Is seal'd, if Fortune yet remains our own.
The Regent, lull'd in dull security,
Sleeps on a throne that totters to its fall.
Deceiv'd, entrapp'd, he thinks our army halts;
My orders urge them on with speedier step.
How vain and impotent the Regent's threats!
The arm of France has paraliz'd his powers:
Cunning, he shuffles, tricks, and runs his rounds
In vain—our high-bred hounds are on his back.

Girronde.
How laughable to see him veering round
With every blast; the weathercock of Fate;
Unsteady, knowing not his friends from foes;
A straw, a feather fluttering in the storm!

Bellegarde.
Beneath weak Folly's banner let him list;
And trust his all to British sophistry.
For what is Britain but a brawling rill,
That winds its feeble, shallow, muddy course,
In opposition to the world of waves;
Soon seiz'd, and swallow'd midst the mighty roar.

Girronde.
Yet not here rest the labours of Napoleon:
Our Gallic Hercules shall work new wonders!
The Ottoman shall bow beneath his yoke,
And lay the shining crescent at his feet:
The haughty East do homage to his throne;
The Western World submit to be his slave:
The princes of the earth but meanly crawl;
Napoleon mounts the chariot of the Sun.
What dares prescribe the limits of his power,
Presumptuous,—but the limits of the world?

Bellegarde.
But let us be economists of time:
Exertion now should ride upon the spur—
Each minute holds a kingdom on its wing.
Our business is to counteract event.
Spread then our emissaries through the city—
Confusion be the order of the day!
Harangue the mob, and rouse to insurrection;
That if our armies move too tardily,
They may be prompted to restrain the navy;
Surround the Palace, nor permit the Prince
To seek for safety in a sudden flight.
Dwell on the peerless virtues of our Emperor;
Nor spare th' unfailing argument of gold,
Which ye shall lack not—thunder in their ears,
The Prince has drain'd their country to the lees,
And bears their treasures to a foreign shore.
Napoleon's soul is fix'd upon this day:
To disappoint his wishes, what ensues?
Lo! Life and Death are vassals of his voice!

Larron.
Already have we urg'd those arguments;
Yet gain few converts, though enforc'd with gold.
They love their Prince, and say that he retires
To break his chains; prepare them an asylum,
To which a loyal people may resort,
And join his standard, from the Tyrant's grasp.

Bellegarde.
Curse on their virtues! what, will nothing move them?
Ha! do their feverish palates hanker still,
Towards Braganza, that forbidden fruit;
That poison tempting, yet replete with death?
Then must we turn Physician to the State,
And let it blood—I warrant we can cool it.
But slight rebuffs must not destroy our purpose.
Still must you strive to stir their sluggish souls:
Nay, promise, if propitious to our wish,
The plunder of the treasure-loaded navy.
Try, will not avarice outweigh allegiance?

Larron.
We spare no labour for the grand design;
Yet all our efforts cannot boast success.

Bellegarde.
Enough—but see that those our power has gain'd,
Be duly station'd at their posts, and arm'd
With secret weapons. Let them be instructed;
And teach them not to shrink from desperate deeds.
We must not now turn cowards at a phantom.
The Prince, if he resist, must not be spar'd.
I would convey instructions to Alvarez
Ere meets the Council.

Girronde.
Then dispatch is needful.

Bellegarde.
Haste you with this, and give it to his hand.

[Delivering a letter.
[Exit Girronde.
Enter a Messenger.
Messenger.
My Lord, our armies now approach the gates;
Each heart of animation full—despising rest—
Despising sustenance—despising rocks,
Hills, forests, mountains that with cloud capp'd heads
Oppose their progress to the fane of glory.

Bellegarde.
Let trusty guides attend upon their entrance,
And lead them onward to their various posts.
Meanwhile let others busy sow sedition
Amongst the Regent's troops, and bid them turn
Upon their ships the cannon of St. Julian.
Each to his station—grave it on your hearts,
That when a Gallic hand commands the helm,
The vessel braves the tumults of the deep,
And mocks the howling genius of the storm.

[Exeunt.