University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Before Lara's Tent.
Enter Lara, leaning on his attendants as if wounded; Gonzalvo by his side in great disorder.
LARA.
I pray thee, my Gonzalvo, rave not thus!
Nay, hast thou not eclips'd thy former glory;
Snatching amidst defeat itself the palm
Of victory? Hast thou not redeem'd from death
Thy Lara, too? Oh, who so blest, my friend,
That would not barter lots with thee this day?

GONZALVO.
None who could read my heart. Enough of this:
Speak of thy safety, of thy life, thy fame,
For that is all saved from my wreck of bliss.

LARA.
Thy wreck of bliss when thou hast sav'd thy country?

GONZALVO.
Is not Almanzor dead, and by thy hand?

LARA.
Yes, by my hand! Would'st thou that I had bared
My bosom to the Infidel's assault?
He met me not to joust in tournament—
Or he had fallen or I.

GONZALVO.
It was not thine
The combat—'twas thy friend's. Had he met me,
Almanzor had return'd to bless his Zelima.
Wretch that I am! Ev'n now, ev'n now, alas!
My princess bends o'er her dear slaughter'd brother,
Deeming Gonzalvo perjured, false—a murderer!
He, who so lately at her feet had sworn
Almanzor's blood should never stain his sword!
Is't not enough, that, every hope shut out,
Despair be mine, but she must think this hand,
This treach'rous hand, has slaughter'd him?
[Lara takes his hand kindly.
Away!
Offer not consolation, Lara. Off!
Thou liv'st. My soul, at least, is spared remorse
For thee! thou art the victor! Wear the blood-stain'd wreath,
Thy valour's due, and leave me to my sorrow.

[Turning from him.
LARA.
My friendship is not dear to thee as once,
Gonzalvo—

GONZALVO.
He is to holy friendship's laws
A stranger, who knows not to sympathise
In his friend's sorrows, though he ne'er have proved
Like ills himself. Thou art my fellow soldier,
Not my friend.

LARA.
Nor friend, nor fellow soldier,
Is welcome to thee more. The flatterer—yes,
The servile flatterer, is the friend thou would'st;
But Lara cannot be Gonzalvo's flatterer.
Go, bind the silken turban round thy brow,
Forswear thy friend, thy country, and thy fame;
Go revel in the Moorish wanton's smiles,
And at her feet—

GONZALVO
(drawing).
The Moorish wanton! say'st thou?

[Pedro rushes between them, and catches Gonzalvo's arm.
LARA
(baring his bosom, and with much emotion).
But first take back the worthless life thy hand
So lately gave to him thy recreant heart
No longer owns.

[Gonzalvo gives his sword to Pedro, and turning axay, hides his eyes with his hands.
PEDRO
(going up to LARA).
My lord is not himself. Your wounds still bleed:
I pray you be more calm.
[To his attendants.
My friends, attend
The valiant Lara—bind his wounds afresh.
[Exit Lara supported.
Pray you, my lord, allow me to attend you
To your own tents. Indeed you need repose.
Haply your faithful Pedro, who has shared
The chances that have wrought this change in you,
May better soothe the anguish of your mind.

GONZALVO.
“The Moorish wanton!”—“Revel in her smiles!”
Her brother's blood still reeking on his sword,
To wrong her thus! With friendship's holy name
To grace such insults!

PEDRO.
Oh! be calm, my lord.

GONZALVO.
Yes, Pedro, I will see her once again;
Tell her this hand is guiltless of his blood—
Pardon obtain—or at her feet expire!

PEDRO.
My lord, you rave. The princess is retired
Within th'Albaysin palace with her father.
It were impossible to enter there,
As 'twere to scale yon skies.—Impossible!

GONZALVO.
No, Pedro, nothing is impossible
To one who greatly dares. I can but die,
And it is better far to die, while, ardent,
I aim my soul's strong purpose to effect,
Than sit me down as coward spirits use,
And, unresisting, sigh my life away.
Yes, I will see her!—Let me pass.

PEDRO.
My lord,
'Tis madness—'tis impossible!—I pray you
Bethink you better.

[Attempting to stop him.
GONZALVO
(with violence).
Nay, attempt not, Pedro,
One to dissuade who is so bent as I am.
Yes, I will enter the proud city thus!
My arms alone are known—alone are fear'd.
What Moor will dream the wretched thing he sees
Was once Gonzalvo? I shall pass unheeded
Amidst the consternation of defeat.

[He rushes out wildly, leaving his sword in Pedro's hand. Pedro, after a moment of consternation, follows him.