University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A Chamber in the Palace.
Enter King and Rachel; he attended, as departing for the chase.
Rach.
Alphonso, I beseech thee, go not forth:
To-morrow, if you will; but not to-day—
O, not to-day! A dark, mysterious feeling
Clouds o'er my heart; and even now I seem
As I were standing on the hideous verge
Of some deep, blood-wet grave: what 'tis, I know not—
Or fear, or augury; but something 'tis
That deep-pervades my being: do not go!

King.
Thou wert a dreamer ever, my fair Hebrew:
The spirit of thy Prophet Ancestry
Lives in their dear descendant. What's to fear?
The rebels now are powerless and abash'd;
Thy sire is with thee—and my faithful guards
Hold thy throned greatness unassailable:
'Tis a rare morning for the gallant sport;
And 'twill be pleasure to me; with me, the chace
Is a mad passion—like my love for thee.
Thy fears are folly, Rachel. Come, my lords—
Thou'lt better keep thy Jewish festival;
I should but drag thee from devotion, sweet!

Rach.
Upon my knees! upon my knees! dear lord.

King.
Nay, rise! my peerless Jewess: what's the fear?

Rach.
Those banish'd lords are mighty in the hearts
Of the whole city: even Alphonso's guards
Lower on his Rachel with a scowling eye;
And if dark looks could do the deed of swords,
She had been dead e'er now. And, oh! my king,
My brain hath in the night been tortur'd
By such a hideous real-seeming, dream,
That, on my life! 'twas more than visionary.

King.
A dream! a dream! Why, now I mark thee, Rachel:
Calphurnia had a dream—

Rach.
And Cæsar died!
And Rachel had a dream—and Rachel dies,
If thou, Alphonso, dost go forth to-day!

Enter Manrique.
Man.
Your courser, my great liege! strikes up the ground,
'Till the air startles with an upward shower
Of grass and dust: he stands magnificent!
And with a tossing head, champing the bit,
And his mane shaking like a cloud i' the wind,
Reproaches royally his royal lord—
Delaying high enthronement on his back:
The dogs make music; and the huntsman's soul
Frets in his eye!—Will 't please my liege to mount?

King.
You come in time, Manrique. All to horse!
Sweet Rachel, we will hear thy dream to-night,
And thou shalt laugh then at thy now affright.
Come, come!

[Exeunt all but Rachel.
Rach.
He's gone—and my misgiving heart
Shakes with the palsy of some ominous fear:
It is as he had left me to fall back
Into my grave! Unlock my tears, dear God!
That I may weep this burthen from my soul:
I must behold my royal lord again?

Enter Xavier.
Xav.
Why weeps my daughter in her pride of power?
Why weeps the Hebrew queen of Arragon?
Go, deck thee for our holy festival:
Israel expects thee in her joyous temple,
There to preside—her glory visible!
What sorrow is the fountain of these waters?
Tell me, my queen.

Rach.
'Tis felt—not to be told.
The king e'en now hath left me for the chase.

Xav.
That's leaden sorrow! You grow tame, proud lady.

Rach.
All brows bend on us with suppress'd disdain:
The very soldiery, power's common tools,
Scowl on thy daughter and her lofty sire—
As they did wish their swords were in their hearts.

Xav.
A potent fear! were wishes sharp as swords:
I do begin to weary of thy terrors;
Thy love hath made thee very simple, Rachel.

Rach.
Sire! you have credence in the might of dreams;
And of the mightiest, one hath shook my soul.

Xav.
Frail fret-work of the brain!—Yet I do listen.

Rach.
Thou stood'st before me in a cloud of fire—
Which left thee; and all then seem'd black as night;
But thou wert still most clearly visible:
And then there came a dagger to thy hand,
And thou withal didst pierce me thro' and thro';
Each stab was a life-losing agony!—
That I did shriek, and shriek; and at my feet
The king lay dead, as thou hadst murder'd him,
Thro' wounding me: then rose the cloud again,
In likeness of Alvaro—who did clasp
And burn thee, till thou wither'dst into ashes;
Which I fell down and kiss'd—and kiss'd; and waking,
Did almost feel them on my feverish lips!

Xav.
I prithee, go; and in the inner chamber
Of the great temple, 'wait thy father's coming.

Rach.
Sire, I would fain remain here in the palace:
I have an ill-foreboding soul, that tells me
There's danger in our going forth to-day.

Xav.
Not go? not worship?—Stay at home for fear?
To Jewry—and more foul, to Christendom
Make proclamation that our power is air?
For fear, insult the God of Israel!
And with neglect abuse his ordinance?
Go!—that is well; else wert thou not my daughter.
[Exit Rachel.
Dreams have been warnings to our tribes for ever;
But I were happy, if this dream were all:
Those proud lords' banishment stands unenforced;
There walks a lurking peril thro' the streets;
Men's souls look thro' their eyes, and sullenly
Speak of a deed to come. I've learn'd a truth:
Our sun hath shone! the weight of the world's scorn
Is heavy on us, that we cannot rise;
Or rising for an instant, cannot stand:—
And 'tis a truth that makes me wish to die.
And yet, sweet Rachel! I would live for thee;
Live to maintain thy greatness with that genius
That's strong in Xavier's soul. Still have I power:
Let citizen and soldier hate their fill!—
They dare not strike, whilst at my dagger's point
I hold this Christian princess.
[Enter Reuben, bleeding and faint.
The misery?

Reu.
My life and the small riches I possess
Are forfeit all—my life's half gone already—
Pluck out the rest!—the Christian is escaped.

Xav.
Death seize thee wholly! Dar'st thou say, the princess?

Reu.
Kill me! 'tis so.

Xav.
Now, Xavier's curse fall on thee!
Thou wert concerting some low scheme of gain;
She made a loophole of thine avarice!
Hadst thou brought news that half the world was drown'd,
'Twere tidings of a jubilee, to this!
The strong-hold of our power, our certain safety,
Thy care hath turn'd to utter foolishness.—
Get thee away! The curse of Israel on thee!

Reu.
I bleed, Sir; and had fought unto the death,
Could it have aught avail'd—but she escaped:
I slew the trait'rous wench that aided her!
It chanced in this wise—

Xav.
Ay; it chanced: suffices;
No need o' the history; 'twill mend no marring.
Get to the temple! and there 'wait my coming.

Reu.
I'd to the surgeon's—but I'm fain to die.

[Exit.
Xav.
Our downthrow is afoot—and that proud laurel
I planted loftily, that it might spread
Over a kingdom, withers with one leaf!
But this, at least, shall be a day of glory
And pomp and triumph to all Hebrew hearts:
The troops shall gird the temple; and the king
Be summon'd from the chase—or live, or die,
The soul of Xavier fareth royally!

[Exit.