University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

An Apartment in Benducar's House.—Bridal Preparations. —Benducar, Alonzo, Zelinda, Priest, Attendants, &c. &c. discovered.
BENDUCAR.
Now, holy Father, let the rites begin;
For time steals on apace, and we must seek
On foreign shores our shelter, when the night,
Which comes advising home to other heads,
To us shall publish exile. My brave son
Alonzo, that our friends assembled here,
And all the world, may know how pure I hold
Your conduct, though traduced by evil tongues,
Take from my hand my daughter.

ALONZO.
Such a gift,
Rich in itself, is richer still from thee;
Crown'd with the noblest motive that can grace
A generous act. In war, you taught me how
To draw the sword, when honour gave command;
In peace, you teach me how to bear the stings
Of faction, hate, caprice,—of hard return
For service, and ungrateful memory;
And in affliction there is still a shrine
Where, led by you, I may of rapture taste;
My guide in all things, good or fortunate!

BENDUCAR.
Zelinda, speak—stand forward. If your tongue
Is palsy-struck, your hand can move. I ask it,
To give where I have named.

ZELINDA.
Oh, hear me, Sir,
With patience.

BENDUCAR.
Look around upon our guests,
And say, is this a time to pause, when all
Expect what all must well approve?

ALONZO.
Yet listen
For my sake, noble friend. If in her eye
My favour is forbidding, I would rather
Leap from the battlements, and take my chance
For life with rocks beneath, than creep within
The fairest bosom, whose reluctant snows
Denied me. Chance may break the greatest fall;
But nothing can revive the drooping heart,
Or make aversion love.

BENDUCAR.
She has not said
Her heart disown'd you; no, some sudden folly
Hath seized her mind; but she must choose between
Her father and that folly. Speak again,
And in another tone, or speak no more.
What! do you still refuse?

ZELINDA.
But for a day.

BENDUCAR.
Once and for ever.

ZELINDA.
Plead for me, Alonzo;
'Tis hard to ask you to become my champion
Against yourself; but, to the noble mind,
There is no violence in sacrifice,
When pride and pity join to honour it.

ALONZO.
My friend—

BENDUCAR.
Peace, peace, would you be cozen'd thus
To ask? She knows this night will bear you hence;
Nay, not an hour can 'lapse before the guards
Will lead you to the frontiers. Yield in time;
Or let your father's curse—

ALONZO.
Forbear, my Lord.
Oh, good Benducar! never, for my sake,
Shall any curse fall on a child of your's;
Much less the hardest curse of all—a father's.

BENDUCAR.
She wrings it from me. Bid the Priest begone;
I would not have his ears contaminate
With imprecations such as I must use
For dire example's sake, that those who follow
May hear and tremble, and grow wise in fear.

ZELINDA.
Stay, Holy Father, stay! your office is
To interdict, and not accommodate
The purpose of a deep offence to Heaven.

PRIEST.
Your own submission, daughter, will prevent
What my advice or presence may not check.

ZELINDA.
Am I then lost, and does religion's self
Renounce me? Yet I have a human father:
He will not cast me off; he will not curse me.

BENDUCAR.
'Tis from the bottom of an injured heart
It breaks; for now I see reveal'd the cause
Of your emotion yesternight. Deny
That you have spoken to Durazzo since;
And, though my lips can never bless, I promise
They shall not curse you. Ha! struck dumb already!
Now stop my breath what mortal influence dare,
While to the gates of vengeance it ascend,
To call down sharpest—heaviest—

ZELINDA.
Hold, in mercy,
One moment—I obey.

ALONZO.
That struggle cost
An agony beyond a thousand groans
Heaved by a thousand captives. Oh! Zelinda,
Your virtue has subdued e'en love itself,
To think of nothing but your happiness.

BENDUCAR.
Your love will best requite her.

ALONZO.
Princes might
Be proud of such a task. Yet not for me
Such bliss to know.

BENDUCAR.
What mean'st thou?

ALONZO.
To resign
All claim to this white trembling hand; to prove
My admiration of her virtue, by
An act of justice and humanity.

ZELINDA.
Alonzo, this is to be great indeed.

DURAZZO, without.
DURAZZO.
Stand off—make way there, let the guards advance,
As on your peril you shall answer it!

Enter Durazzo and Guards.
ALONZO.
Again, Durazzo! By my soul, you come
Right aptly to my wish. For all my wrongs
I give you broad defiance, and the lie
Which your own soul must echo.

[Draws.
DURAZZO.
Say you so?
The shortest quarrel is the sword's. I hate
The war of words when it is time for action:
My life to yours—Come on!

ALONZO.
And mine to thine:
'Tis a brief difference where death is umpire.

[They fight.
ZELINDA.
Part them, my father, part—

OFFICER.
What means this tumult,
In scorn of law? My Lord Durazzo, least
Of all becomes it you to have a share in't.

DURAZZO.
Then seize your prisoners; for, while thus we stand,
In attitude to give and take offence,
It is the law of our antipathies
To strike.

OFFICER.
Hold: I arrest you, lords—submit.

BENDUCAR.
You are a soldier, and a gallant man;
Oh! let not such a slave prevail against us.

DURAZZO.
Conduct them hence, each to a separate dungeon.

BENDUCAR.
What, at your bidding!

DURAZZO.
Yes; the slave commands.

ALONZO.
On what pretence is this audacity?

DURAZZO.
I'll tell you, for 'twill gall you.—'Twas the sentence,
That from the city gates you should depart
Within a stated time. That time has just
Expired. For such contempt you must atone.
This your abettor in the like offence,
Who harbour'd you against the King's injunction,
Incurs an equal penalty;—and now
I hope you're answer'd to your wish.

BENDUCAR.
I see—
I see it all. Her slow consent is now
Accounted for. My curse is hers again.

ZELINDA.
Look, on my knees, before this holy man,
And all I love and fear below, my soul
Is innocent of the abhorred charge
You wrong me with, as light is innocent
Of darkness.

ALONZO.
Oh! believe it, Sir; 'tis true—
It must be true.

BENDUCAR.
One only way is left
To chase the fell suspicion from my mind:
She owes it to her father's peace, now dragg'd
To chains, perchance to death:—she owes it to
Her own insulted feelings, witnessing
His degradation. What I ask—I claim—
That from her heart she banish yonder fiend,
And, on the instant, swear, by every power,
Divine and human, never to be his.

ZELINDA.
I swear.

DURAZZO.
Zelinda—pause—deny—retract.

ZELINDA.
Tis register'd in Heaven.

DURAZZO.
Heaven has no ear
For such an oath; 'tis barbarous, unjust,
Ungrateful.

BENDUCAR.
Have we found the means to reach
Your stubborn bosom?—Bless, Oh, bless my child!

ZELINDA.
My father!

BENDUCAR.
Sweet, farewell!

[The Guards bear off Benducar and Alonzo.
ZELINDA.
I follow you.

DURAZZO.
Zelinda!

ZELINDA.
Would you speak with me?

DURAZZO.
A moment—
Think on the wrongs I suffer'd.

ZELINDA.
In your own
Dark breast they have their record. I must think
On those you can inflict.

[Exit.
DURAZZO.
And have I lost her?
The daughter gone; the father in my power;
My rival too! Thus bad and good unite,
And both distract me; but the good prevails.
'Tis not upon the top of Fortune's wheel
That we should quarrel with our destinies.