University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Juan
alone in his tent.—Night.—Illuminated with lamps—armour lying on the ground.
Strange that this Moorish maid, and gallant youth,
So haunt my fancy!—Yes, her silver tones
Struck on my ear as though Daraxa spoke;
And when he sunk in fight beneath my arm,
I could have snatch'd him to my heart, for then
His upward eyes' dark radiance beam'd on me
As hers was wont!
[He paces the stage thoughtfully.
'Tis rumour'd in the camp,
Xarifa is the fierce Abdallah's queen—
The youth condemn'd to death.
Enter Hamad, wrapt in a cloak.
What form is this?

HAMAD.
It is the form of one undone by thee!
And, for the spirit once its happy tenant,
By fell Despair inhabited!
[Throwing off the cloak.
Behold
The victim of thy goodness and thy valour!

JUAN.
Young Hamad!—yes, 'tis he!—What joy is mine
That still thou liv'st!

HAMAD
(giving him a paper with sullen sadness).
These from Granada's queen!

JUAN.
Ha! from the queen!—Then is it true, poor youth!
Sever'd from her thou lov'st—

HAMAD.
Speak not of me!
I have no being, save what ministers
This one act of obedience to her will.

JUAN
(reads).
“Granada's slander's queen in knighthood's name
“On noble Juan calls, that in the lists
“His spear maintain her cause against the Zegris.
“By all condemn'd!—held guilty by her father!—
“No Moorish knight defends the wrong'd Xarifa.
“Heaven and brave Hamad know her innocence!”

HAMAD
(with sudden transport).
Oh she is pure as yon chaste orb!—as pure
As bending angels who attend to welcome
Her brighter spirit to their heavenly choir!
Give but a sword, brave Juan, to my grasp!
Nay, the bare sinews of this single arm,
Methinks, in virtue's cause should crush to dust
Base, trembling slander, though in mail of proof!

JUAN
(who has watched him with admiration).
Ye shall stand cleared before the world! Oh thou!
Who rul'st the battle! thou!—attest my vow
To save the wrong'd Xarifa and brave Hamad!

HAMAD.
Art thou a god?

JUAN.
I am a knight, young Moor,
And so art thou!—The cause of innocence!
Of slander'd chastity!—is knighthood's cause
In every clime alike.—Thou shalt have arms—
(JUAN considers him).
But who art thou, that, strangely moved, my heart
Should thus adopt thy fortunes?

HAMAD.
I am one,
From birth a wretch!—and now to death consign'd—
To shame, and to oblivion! Noble Juan,
Waste not a thought on me. Xarifa's fame
Rescued from slander's taint! and Hamad dead—
[Taking a string of gems from his bosom, and with great emotion.
Oh! give her this—'tis all that e'er was mine—
Tell her—

JUAN
(examining them with agitation).
Thine?—thine?—these gems!—Speak, youth—how thine?

HAMAD.
A mother, with her dying blessing, bound them
Around my infant neck, nor till this hour—

JUAN
(who has torn a similar one from his own bosom, compares them with trembling hands).
Are they not, gem for gem, the same?—say thou!
These eyes are dazzled—
[Brushes off a tear.
Haply they deceive me.

HAMAD
(takes them).
I am amazed!—nor know I which was mine.

JUAN.
'Twas on the day we pledged our mutual faith!
A mutual token each!
[Seems choked, then breaking forth.
And would she not
Thy infant lips should lisp thy father's name?
My son! my son! my lost Daraxa's image!

[Falling on his neck in an agony.
HAMAD.
Thou!—thou my father!—thou—our benefactor!
Against whose breast this parricidal hand
Erewhile was frantic raised! Oh outraged Nature!

JUAN.
Nay, rather own her strong mysterious power!
'Twas Nature spoke when Juan woo'd thy valour
To turn aside in battle!—Imperious Nature!
That summon'd to thy cheek Don Juan's blood,
Deep-mantling crimson at th'inglorious thought;
Nature that pitying warded off thy point,
Lest it should pierce a father's breast, and blunted
The sword of Juan raised against his son.

HAMAD.
My noble father!—canst thou thus excuse
The impious fury—

JUAN.
I, like thee, was young—
Like thee I loved.—And think'st thou, had I fought
For my Daraxa, with less deadly rage
This arm had dared?—Thy peerless mother was!—
My child! thou hast much of her!—Her brow! her eye!
She ruled my soul as only virtue can!
Not as dark braided locks, and laughing eyes,
In every city claim a soldier's homage.
'Twas a new being!—But I prattle idly
Of what has been—'tis past!—and thou, my son!
If it be true, to death condemn'd—how here?
How from Abdallah's cruelty released?

HAMAD.
A faithful Spanish slave who tends the queen
Besought my jailor in Xarifa's name—
I pledged my word to yield myself to-morrow
To meet my doom; and thus my jailor won.
Wrapt in his cloak I darkling pass'd the guard.
Thy outposts I eluded, practised well
To thread each tangled brake, each deep ravine.
But mark!—methinks already in the east
The fatal dawn!—and ere the sun go down
The fair Xarifa dies!—dishonour'd dies!—
Thou, noble knight! my generous foe! my father!
Haste—let us arm to vindicate my queen!
Then will I to my dungeon—with glad arms
Outstretch'd to meet my chains, and hug them close,
Till welcome death—

JUAN.
Talk'st thou of death, my son?
Glory awaits thee, victory, and bliss!
Oh! I have much to tell, and much to learn!
But now for deeds of arms! “For love and glory!”

[They retire into the tent, and the scene closes.

SCENE II.

Royal Apartments.
XARIFA
(alone).
The hour is near, and Esperanza comes not.
By all deserted!—miserable greatness!
A few days past, had the base Zegri knights
Blacken'd the fame of old Moraizel's daughter,
An hundred swords had from their scabbards leapt,
An hundred spears gleam'd in the rest!—But now
I am a queen!—a wretched queen!—all hearts
Have thrown me off to royal loneliness!
Methinks that else—the cause of the oppress'd
Were knighthood's proper cause!
[Takes a dagger concealed in her dress, and gazes on it.
Good Esperanza!
If thou succeed not, this, thy last kind boon,
From public obloquy—My father here!

Enter Moraizel.
MORAIZEL.
Thou of the Aben-Zurrah race the stain!
The sun already high!—the lists prepared—
No knight takes up the gauntlet by the Zegris
In proud defiance thrown:—so foul thy deed!
Thy guilt so plain!—At noon, death's iron hand
For ever seals thy shame!

XARIFA
(with dignified composure).
Not so, my father!
I still have hope—for I am innocent!
Shall I forget, so oft when on your knee
A happy child!—and Hamad at your feet—
To school our opening minds, from all around
You drew some theme of trust in Heaven's mercy?
If in the terrors of the storm I clung
Closer and closer to thy bosom, smiling,
Thou bad'st me lift my tearful eyes, and welcome,
Within the cloud's dark folds, the gathering flood
Salubrious, to fertilize the earth!
Admire the fires that flash'd from pole to pole,
Winnowing the air, with impure vapours clogg'd,
Noxious to life:—and mark, the tempest pass'd,
How bright! how fresh! how joyous nature all!
Thus train'd by thee, in Heaven's darkest frown,
To find a hidden mercy—I will hope!
For I am innocent!—to the last will hope
To leave a spotless name!—and thou, stern Death,
Suspend thy shaft, till some commission'd spear
Confound the slanderers!—and I own, once more,
No ills, save those thy hand can cure!

MORAIZEL.
My child!
I cannot look on thee and think thee false—
Yet, yet—the scroll!—thy train of damsels
Timely dismiss'd!—all, all, force strong conviction.
Despight of proofs so pregnant, could I hold thee
Still chaste, and pure from blame, my trusty blade
I'd buckle on, and grasp my toughest lance,
Old as I am!—these lusty knights should feel,
(Though to their banners rallied hell's dark powers),
With Heaven on his side, a father's vengeance!

Enter Abdallah.
KING.
Ere yet thou die, once more within these walls
Thou see'st thy injured husband, and thy king!
Thank partial nature, lavish to adorn
Thy outward form, that the recoiling hand
Shudders to mar the mould so wond'rous fair,
To strike at the deformity within.—
Would thou wert guiltless!

XARIFA.
If the unshaken purpose
To die in strict observance of the vow,
The fatal vow I breathed, be innocence,
My soul is free of all offence to thee!

KING.
Free of offence!—Ah! shameless!—at thy feet
A slave! a traitor! fired by lawless passion!
Had not the faithful Zegris interposed—
Ha! dost thou blush?

XARIFA.
It were thy part to blush,
If such thy thoughts of her thou hast compell'd
To share thy crown.

KING.
Would'st thou imply the crime
Was his alone?—By Allah, might I think it!—
But no—thou lov'st:—with equal guilt thou lov'st.

XARIFA.
I love—his virtues!

KING.
Thou lov'st him with the love
My due!—and purchased by a throne!—Confess
Thou lov'st him—Speak—

XARIFA.
Else why am I thy wife?

KING.
Accursed wretch! thou gloriest in thy guilt?

XARIFA.
I know not guilt. Thy queen is innocent.
I loved young Hamad better than myself
When I, for him, became Abdallah's wife!
But since I am thy wife, know, King Abdallah,
I hold my honour dearer even than Hamad—
And, for my honour's sake, am innocent!

KING.
Then is he guilty!—he alone!

XARIFA
(terrified).
Oh, no!—
Hamad is guiltless!

KING.
Thou, and he!—both, both.
Why tremblest thou?

XARIFA.
Not for myself!

KING.
For him
That quivering lip—that crimson tide now rushing
O'er thy blanch'd cheek!—Thou own'st it—all for him!
So young! so fair!—Is vice so bold? so reckless?

XARIFA.
No, innocence is bold! and wretchedness
Is, indeed, reckless.

KING.
Would'st thou urge this hand
Instant to search thy bosom's depths, and pluck
Th'adulterous passion forth, and, with it, life!
Hast thou no fear?

XARIFA.
Oh, spare me—spare me, king!
For I have fear—I fear to die dishonour'd!
And I have hope—hope in Heaven's justice still!
Then stay thy hand. Ere noon, with spotless fame,
The wrong'd Xarifa of thy rage may woo
The stroke, she for a moment would suspend.

KING.
Within an hour, irrevocable death
Will give thy name to infamy for ever.
Already multitudes have throng'd the lists.
The knights appellants, gay-careering, urge
Their foaming coursers o'er the vacant space,
Held by no knight defendant in thy cause.
[A trumpet heard.
The trumpet sounds! The ministers of justice
But wait my signal to conduct thee forth
To public execution!

XARIFA
(with great firmness).
I am prepared!
If Heaven protect not innocence below,
The greater its reward in realms of bliss!
And she thou would'st to infamy consign,
Closing her eyes in death awakes to glory!

[As she is speaking the Officers of Justice enter, and she is led to execution.

SCENE III.

The Lists.
In the farther part of the stage preparations for the execution of the Queen. The Zegri Knights armed cap-à-pie on horseback, with their lances in the rest. After they have paraded the lists, the Queen is led in, covered by a black veil, to slow and solemn music, and conducted to a seat apart from the King, who ascends a throne. Alhamut lifts his vizor, and speaks.
ALHAMUT.
Mighty Abdallah! see your faithful knights,
Who, when the morning dawn'd, already arm'd,
Their trusty lances grasp'd; and confident
In their good cause, in Allah, and the Prophet,
Thrice by the trumpet's voice have vainly call'd
On knighthood to defend thy faithless queen—
The hour appointed by the law is pass'd!
If none embrace her cause, 'tis Heaven's decree,
Thy queen is guilty!—Wherefore this delay?

KING.
Valiant Alhamut!—yes, thy words are just.
Allah has blest, my friends, the loyal swords
Your faith unsheathed against her double treason.
(Rising.)
The queen is guilty! Let devouring flames
Prey on those charms, by angry Heaven lent
To wreck a monarch's peace.
Moors enter with torches to light the funeral pyre, and as the Officers of Justice approach Xarifa, Esperanza rushes in, and the Queen falls on her neck. Suddenly a distant trumpet is heard—Esperanza clasps her hands, and exclaims,
A challenge sounds!
'Tis on the gale!—Forbear, ye bloody men!
Again!—Again!

XARIFA.
Then Heaven has not forgot me!

ALHAMUT.
My liege, delay not. Justice claims her victim.

ESPERANZA.
Nearer, and nearer still!—They come! they come!

Enter Juan and Hamad on horseback, armed cap-à-pie, their vizors down. They stop before Xarifa, dismount, and kneel before her.
JUAN.
Low at your feet, behold, much injured queen,
Two stranger knights, who to your cause devote
Their arms, their lives!—Accept our service, lady,
And we will fall within this listed space,
Or see thy honour, clear'd from slander's stain,
Beam doubly radiant, as the glorious sun
Smiles in his might upon the cloud dispersed.

XARIFA
(rises, and raises them graciously).
Brave knights, and friends of the defenceless, rise!
The thanks and blessings of a broken heart
Were as a faded wreath, unmeet to grace
Your noble brows! But deeds of godlike goodness
Yield their own meed to souls of godlike mould!
Heaven is my witness that my cause is just!
And hope, that almost had forsook my breast,
In you reposed, becomes strong certainty.
Angels, to pure intentions ever friendly,
Will hover watchful o'er the kindred spirits
Lodged in those gracious forms!
[Aside to Esperanza, while the knights remount their horses, and prepare to fight.
'Tis Juan's self!
But who is he?—the younger knight who spoke not?
Methought he trembled.

ESPERANZA
(half smiling).
He alike is brave!

XARIFA.
Nay, guess my thought, dear Esperanza, he
Whom I dare not name—

ESPERANZA
(whispers).
'Tis he—'tis Juan's son!

XARIFA.
His son!—Mysterious Heaven!

ESPERANZA.
We are observed.

[The knights have now taken their positions.
JUAN.
Base, recreant slaves! true knighthood's lasting shame!
Thus in the rest I place my trusty spear
In the pure cause of innocence!

HAMAD.
And I!
I have no breath to waste in empty words,
Which could not speak your infamy.—Come on!
This to thy traitor's heart!

[Hamad engages Alhamut, and Juan, Ali. Their spears are broken; they dismount, and fight with their swords. Juan and Hamad conquer. Alhamut falls on the front of the stage. Hamad points his sword at his breast.
HAMAD.
Villain, ere yet this hand dismiss a spirit
Recoiling hell shall shudder to receive,
Declare Xarifa's angel purity.

ALHAMUT.
The voice of Hamad!—Heaven! thy hand is on me—
Release my bosom—Oh!—the skies are dark—
And Paradise—for ever—closed—

HAMAD.
Speak, traitor!

ALHAMUT.
Oh!—sheathe thy sword—already—Hamad—
Its cold—cold point—

HAMAD.
Ere yawning hell engulf thee,
The queen!—the queen!—

ALHAMUT.
The queen is—innocent!

[Alhamut sinks into his squire's arms, and is borne to the back of the stage. Shouts of triumph. Juan and Hamad lay the swords of the conquered Zegris at Xarifa's feet.
JUAN.
Lady, thou art free! a wretched queen no more;
The vow, at an unhallow'd shrine extorted,
Is void!—betroth'd to Hamad—perjury!
And he who casts thee from him, to the flames,
Has justly lost thee.

KING
(rushing from his throne).
Lost?—Presumptuous knight!
Thy valour claims a monarch's thanks; thou hast them:
But we give law within Granada's walls!
And thou, our queen once more, to fame restored,
We take thee to our bosom, and our throne.

[As he approaches to take her hand, she comes forward with disordered steps, avoiding him.
XARIFA.
Forbear, Abdallah!—Nay, approach me not.

HAMAD
(with exultation and impassioned expression).
Th'award of knighthood is held Heaven's decree!
Again thou art mine! my wife betrothed! my love!
Thou my lost happiness! my rescued bliss!
My life! my all!—

XARIFA.
Forbear!—forbear! alike.
[She motions all to stand apart with increasing agitation.
A little space I pray—Oh! farther yet.—
(To Hamad tenderly).
Thou, most of all!—My bursting heart would thank—
Would thank—my brave deliverers!—for fame—
Life's better part—restored—
[She appears unable to proceed—a pause of suspense and violent emotion on her part. Aside.
But not—for life!
To live the tyrant's wife!—Or worse—to give
To Hamad's love pollution! perjury!
Oh, horrible alike!—Death!—Death! alone.
(To Hamad with assumed firmness).
Th'award of knighthood cannot loose the vow
Breathed at the altar! breathed in truth and honour,
Howe'er extorted—
(To Abdallah with dignity).
King! I am thy wife!

KING.
Pattern of virtue! glory of my throne!

[As he approaches with rapture she still wards him off.
XARIFA.
A moment yet delay! I pray—a moment—
(To Hamad).
To thee, my Hamad, all I am was vow'd—
From childhood vow'd! lord of my first fond thoughts!
(Turning to Moraizel).
The husband thou, my father, badst me love!
And on my head (thou heard'st it) I invoked
Heaven's vengeance if in thought or deed I wrong'd him.
[She takes a dagger concealed in her breast.
Thus!—thus!—I seal, and quit alike each vow!

[Stabs herself.
KING
(rushing to support her).
Hold, frantic woman!

MORAIZEL.
Spare thy wretched father!

XARIFA
(to ABDALLAH).
I die—a virtuous queen—and spotless—wife—
Hadst thou—been gentle!—patient—I—had waited—
The sure—yet slower hand—of—sorrow.—
[She puts him gently from her, and makes an effort to approach Hamad, who rouses himself from stupefaction, and supports her.
Hamad!—
A few—pangs—yet!—to me they—are not—bitter,—
And—I am thine—again!—for ever—thine!—
[Hamad attempts to seize the dagger she has dropped. She makes an effort, and catches his arm.
Live! live!—to pay—my debt—of gratitude—
To him—thy—noble—father!—
[She motions Juan to approach, takes his hand, and points to Hamad.
Guard him!—save—him—
From—his—despair—Oh thou—my brave—preserver.
[She sinks again on Hamad's bosom.
Kind Death—deals—gently—with me.—'Tis not—hard
To sink—in sleep—thus gazing—on thee—Hamad!—
It had—been—hard—to live—another's—wife!—
And, stain'd—by broken—vows,—I were—unworthy—
[Seeing her father, who hangs over her in speechless sorrow.
Thy—blessing—on thy dying—child!—My Hamad!—
Oh!—I am—very—faint!—that pang!—it cancels—
The—fatal—vow!—and now—my love!—my husband!

[She dies in Hamad's arms, and the curtain drops.