 | The Castilian |  |
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Scene IV.
—The Chamber of the Queen Joanna.—A royal Chamber, divided by curtains which fall in a crescent round a couch on which the Queen Joanna is reclining. At the head of the couch is placed a Chair of State, beside which Donna Maria and Alphonso are standing—at its foot an Attendant Lady is sitting on a low stool with a lute, on which she is playing.—She ceases to play as the scene opens.JOANNA
(waking).
Whence is that air? I think I heard it play'd
Long since; was it by you?
LADY.
No, madam, never;
'Tis of my country, Flanders.
JOANNA.
Flanders? True—
I now remember, years—long years—ago
In your gay land I heard it. I was a bride then,
And the most glorious face that Nature shaped
In ecstacy, look'd down with love on mine;
You well may wonder—'tis a tale so old—
To see me living still.
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Your Highness' age
Leaves years of life to come.
JOANNA.
Ay years, years, years—
For I am doom'd, to wear a wondrous life,
Far off, it dawn'd in lustre; then 'twas pall'd
In blackness streak'd with horrors; now it bursts
From sleep by fits, when long past things flash out
In shapes that crowd the chambers of my brain
To agony that spends its force in throbbing;
And then I sleep again—long dreamless sleeps—
Which must endure for years; so Time sweeps by
And leaves me a dull monument to keep
His saddest records; none would own me now
For Isabella's daughter.
MARIA.
All who knew
Her image living, trace it in your Highness.
JOANNA.
No; I alone of those that breathe have known her;
And I can tell you things no living eye
But mine beheld. When the world's mighty strife
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Vouchsafed to mingle with our hosts, was crown'd
By cession, in earth's breathless silence, made
Of tamed Grenada, by my mother's side
I sat, and saw the enormous towers unscathed
As still defying siege, beneath the range
Of ice-clad mountains, which with peaks of fire
Look'd pinnacled for angels' feet. Our veterans
Stood like mail'd statues, till the giant cross
Of virgin silver, which my father raised
Before him in his battles, shone erect
Against heaven's azure, on the Alhambra's top,
Flinging its sacred shadow on the dome
Which sullenly heaved under it; then all
Fell on their knees, and down scar-furrow'd cheeks
Large tears roll'd slowly, as the hymn of praise
Floated on air; but none advanced a step
Toward the surrender'd gates, till thence appear'd
Hundreds of Christian captives freed from depths
Of Moorish dungeons, shrinking in strange sunlight,
Who totter'd to my mother's feet to bless
Her face, like those, they said, which beam'd in sleep
That follow'd torture. Then, what shouts arose!
What endless torrent of plumed troops swept by us,
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It racks me—lay me down.
[Maria assists Joanna to lie down and adjusts the pillows.
JOANNA.
Your touch is gentle—
What are you call'd?
MARIA.
Maria de Pacheco;
I've watch'd a month beside your Highness.
JOANNA.
Ha!
I think I heard—it must be long ago—
You call'd an infant by my slighted name;
Does she live still?
MARIA
(bursting into tears).
In heaven.
JOANNA.
Fie! do not weep,
You see I do not weep who outlive all;
I have not shed a tear since that long night
Which I endured beside Medina's postern,
When, while the snow weigh'd down the fluttering robe
That clad me, I defied the minion lords
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I left to make my lonely way to him
Whose soul was pledged to mine; they tore me thence;
But I escaped their feeble bonds again,
And traversed land and sea to find—to find—
A Flemish wanton snaring Philip's soul
With golden tresses. See! She kneels and prays
With baby prettiness and honied words
For pardon—never! Doff those glistening locks
And stand, unshaded by a curl, the gaze
Of her you have stabb'd! I am a Princess still
And will have justice! What if Philip frown?
I like him best when frowning—
Do I wander?
I am far sunk in years, and age has licence
To babble of old times.
MARIA.
All women shared
The wrongs you bore from Philip.
JOANNA.
Shared? what mean you?
When did I crave a partner for my grief,
Or talk of wrongs? I was too wan for Philip—
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Smile—smile—so for eternity!
MARIA.
In death
Be all his frailties shrouded!
JOANNA.
Death! You are fair,
Yet, from your lips, the dismal echo breathes
Of the world's lie. This cold and barren earth
And the dull roof of clouds that clip it round,
Leaden and low, to shroud it from God's azure,
Ring with that falsehood; he was sick and lay
In trance, and all who envied me conspired
To call it death, and laid him in a grave—
But thence I pluck'd him—pale—but not more pale
Than I have seen him when I watch'd his couch
After long revels, whence he woke to know me,
And sometimes thank me. This poor heart still beats,
And, by its beating, I'm assur'd he lives.
MARIA.
Since you so fervently desire his life
I'll wish him living; but yourself entomb'd him
In marble at Grenada.
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So—you have heard
That rare device; how, through each day encamp'd,
I curtain'd him, and bore him on by night,
Loathing all roofs, that I might laugh at those
Who watch'd his waking. 'Tis a dismal journey—
The torches flicker through its mists—the sleet
Descends to quench them—I'll not track it on—
Tell me how fares the world, what path your husband
Treads of its dusty ways?
MARIA.
He is one whose name
Your Highness may have heard—John de Padilla—
Whose youth won glory in the Moorish war,
And whose life now awaits your Highness' service.
JOANNA.
I knew a boy so named, whose dawning valour
My parents cherish'd when they lived in camp
At Medun; can he live still?
MARIA.
He attends
Your gracious bidding.
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Let him come this instant;
I little dream'd a nobleman who knew me
In my bright childhood lives.
MARIA
(to Alphonso).
Inform Padilla
The Queen commands his presence.
[Exit Alphonso.
JOANNA.
Queen! I'll take
My state to welcome him; set me my chair,
I'll fill it like a throne, and shame my mockers.
[Maria places the Chair of State in front, and assists Joanna to take it.
Enter Padilla, followed by Alphonso.
PADILLA
(kneeling before Joanna).
I pray your Majesty to look with grace
On your distracted subjects.
JOANNA.
Mine? You mock me;
I am only sovereign of these rooms,—these ladies
My few poor subjects. Let me look upon you;
'Tis said you are the glorious youth who won
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With marvellous prowess; rise; it cannot be—
Those battles have been hush'd an age, and you
Are in your prime still; yet you are like the boy
My mother loved to praise.
PADILLA.
I am the same
Whom that rich guerdon bless'd. Let me assure
My own the happy brow on which it lighted
By one most sacred memory which none other
Of my degree can cherish. When the sovereigns,
After Grenada's capture, held their court
In radiant Seville, I once shared the feast
Of their small household, and when sunset closed
The pastimes gracious Royalty had plann'd
For festal youth, and I was shrinking homeward
Full of delight, I saw the Queen with smile
That lent authority's augustest presence
The charm of angel, beckon me to wait
Upon her steps;—I follow'd to the shrine
At which, with her, the royal children kneel'd
In vesper adoration. Softest light
Shed by one silver lamp reveal'd the walls
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Of saints and martyrs, carved in white as stainless
As the fantastic wonders nature shapes
In Alpine caverns. By your side was John,
Your rosy brother; opposite to him
Your sister Isabella bent a head
So stately and so sad, as if she felt
Chill shadow of her destiny to wear
The crown of Portugal with speedy change
For cypress and for amaranth. With arm
Tightening about her neck, and eye upturn'd,
Stood Kate the youngest.
JOANNA.
I behold them all—
I see you kneeling with us; and a strain
Wafted from childhood murmurs through my heart
And makes it lighter.
I think I must have dream'd
Strange, heavy dreams;—for it seems yesterday
When we were ranged beneath my mother's eye
Obedient children; Kate scarce totter'd then—
She may live still; oh tell me, is there one
To call me sister?
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Katherine is queen in England.
JOANNA.
England? I was in England once—three months
Feasted at Windsor, by a monarch styled
The Seventh Henry. Oh that I had perish'd
Before I touch'd its shore!
PADILLA.
I pray you, wherefore?
JOANNA.
Because death then had clasp'd me in an hour
Of Philip's love. For weeks we had been toss'd
Upon the wintry seas, from Flanders bound
For Spain, with no companions but our sailors,
Rough, weather-beaten men, with grizzly locks
And tawny limbs, whose kindness raised my wonder,
For never from my women's tenderest care
Felt I such true observance as wild ocean
Had taught her mates; and Philip's heart was soften'd
By dear remorse that made me bless the storms
That waken'd it, till lightning struck our mast
In the black valley of two mountain seas,
Lit into hungry crimson by strange fire
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The sails to sheets of tatter'd flame, and show'd
Gaunt visages of brave men whom the fate
That yawn'd and glared around us struck to shapes
Immovable with horror; in that instant
By flash of a huge splinter, as it fell,
I saw my husband's face bent down on mine
With such remorseful beauty as o'erpaid
My years of weary sorrow. How I cursed
The dismal beach of Weymouth, where I woke
From happy trance to find myself in life!
PADILLA.
Lady, you then were on your way to Spain
To solemnise your heirship of the crown
Which now is yours. Oh let it from your brow
Shine on Castile!
JOANNA.
My brow?—you cannot mean it—
My crown?—how mine? Where is my brother John?
Is he not heir of all?
PADILLA.
From noblest hopes
A nation ever cherish'd in its prince,
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God call'd him, and the youth unmurmuring left
Earth's fairest lot; and, in his tomb, a babe,
The blighted fruit of happy love, awaits
A two-fold waking.
JOANNA.
Now I see it all;
My crown is wrested from me by a father,
And he is mighty.
PADILLA.
Ferdinand is dead.
JOANNA.
Dead? When he died, did no one urge my right?
You said my sister Isabella died—
Where was my son—on whom I have not gazed
Since his stern beauty fill'd my wasted arms?
It rises on me now with face that frown'd
In answer to the smiles my poor heart lavish'd,
To smite it! Charles usurps his mother's throne—
Tell me no more; let me lie down again,
And dream away my days.
PADILLA.
He held the crown
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Which now are melting in the gracious sunlight
Shed on your spirit. We had honour'd still
His glorious youth, but that he left Castile
To foreign minions; against these we rose;
And from their grasp we have redeem'd the crown
For you, our sovereign lady, whom we pray
To wear it.
JOANNA
(starting from the chair).
Won for me?
[At a sign from Padilla, Alphonso draws aside the curtains which had divided the chamber, disclosing a magnificent saloon furnished with large mirrors—terminating in a balcony, beyond which the towers of the Cathedral are seen—the sceptres, crown, and regalia of Castile and Aragon disposed around the saloon.
PADILLA.
Behold—
The ancient symbols of the regal power
Rescued for you!
JOANNA.
Can this be real?
[Alphonso presents the Crown of Castile kneeling to Joanna, who takes it in her hand; her fingers play hurriedly over the jewels.
'Tis real;
This is the crown which great Ximenes placed
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When I was hail'd as heiress of these realms;
How the vast pomp expands before my soul,
Which swells to compass it! And this is mine!
My own! Brave soldier, place it on my head!
PADILLA
(placing the Crown on Joanna's head).
Forgive me; my hands tremble with delight;
Permit my wife to fix that robe. [To Alphonso]
The signal!
[Alphonso waves a banner from the balcony; Maria arrays Joanna in one of the royal robes; as she does so Joanna catches a view of herself in a mirror and stands gazing with delight. Shouts arise without and cries of “Long live the Queen!”
JOANNA.
Is that my form—the form I thought decay'd
And shrunk in age? What shouts are those?
PADILLA.
The voice
Of your enraptured people.
[Shouts continue—martial music—Padilla's Captain rushes in with the Banner of Castile and waves it over the Queen—The room becomes full of Officers and Soldiers.
PADILLA.
See the flag
Of your Castile!
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I bless it. Let the gates
Be thrown wide open; let my subjects throng
My palace, and approve me while I swear
To reign for them.
[In a pause of the shouts the distant music of the Cathedral organ is heard.
JOANNA.
Pray you one moment—hush—
Those sounds refresh my thirsty soul—forgive me—
Thank God I weep again!
[Members of the Holy Junta enter and kneel to the Queen—Shouts renewed.
PADILLA.
The Holy Junta
Who have preserved your kingdoms, claim your blessing.
JOANNA.
They have it; I must ask their wisdom's aid
To teach me how to rule.
[Alphonso bears to Joanna the Sceptre of Aragon.
PADILLA.
The holy sceptre
Of Aragon.
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(taking it).
Yes; this at Saragossa
I swore to wield in mercy, when I deem'd it
A gorgeous plaything. I will keep that oath.
[Mondeiar brings forward the Banner of Toledo; and is about to lay it at Joanna's feet.
PADILLA.
The Delegate from your own Toledo lays
Its banner at your feet.
JOANNA.
No; let it float
On the proud air—the banner of my birthplace,
That I may hail its star of gold that flash'd
Upon me in my infancy with hope
Of grandeur now fulfill'd.
[Mondeiar waves the Banner of Toledo.
Beloved Toledo—
Your Queen shall fill you with her state!—for there
I'll fix my Court. Meanwhile behold my general
[To Padilla.
To whom I trust my armies; my chief lady
[To Maria.
Who shall direct my household.
[Padilla and Maria kneel on each side of the Queen, and kiss her hands—Soldiers and Citizens pour in—the organ swells into triumphant music—banners are waved in different parts of the Saloon.
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Mother, bend
From your eternal seat to reign with me!
[The drop-scene falls.
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