University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE SECOND.

Almachilde, Romilda, Ildovaldo, Soldiers.
Al.
Oh stop!

Rom.
Oh Heaven!

Il.
Who brings thee here before me?

Rom.
Circled by soldiers! ...

Al.
Whither dost thou fly?
Oh stop. Much have I to impart to thee.
I do not come, although I have the power,
By violence to restrain thee. In the camp
Thou hast, by stealth, arm'd thy most faithful followers:
Tell me the cause? Perchance, on the same day
Thou wouldst defend thy monarch and betray him.

Il.
That I defended thee no more recall;
This is the only stigma on my honour;
Do not remember it: if no one else
Can wash it out, assuredly canst thou
By such a recompense as thou hast given.

Rom.
Traitor, dar'st thou, where I am, come in arms,
And feign conciliatory purposes?

Al.
No, no, I do not feign. Since I have tried
With words in vain, 'tis needful now with deeds
That I should prove to thee my love.

Il.
Thou wretch ...

Rom.
And dar'st thou yet? ...

Al.
If 'tis your will, ye hear
From me no more the language of a king:
But if ye do refuse, ye shall be forced
To hear my words. The time is now gone by
For me to moderate my fatal love:
In vain I will'd it, and in vain ye hope it.
I scorn to have recourse, for thy possession,
To circumventive stratagems; yet never,
That others by such means should win thy charms
Will I endure. Thou mean'st to drag her hence;
This seems to me unworthy of thy valour;
Pursue a wiser plan; I am prepared,
I swear to thee, beneath my kingly power
To seek no refuge.

Il.
If thou dost not make
Thy ill-gain'd power a refuge from my rage,
Say, as a refuge from what danger then?
What lying pomp of noble sentiments
Dar'st thou assume, while here on every side
Begirt with armed satellites?

Al.
'Tis true
I keep these at my side, lest thou shouldst not
Consent at present to appear my equal.
These are a monarch's train; this likewise is
A warrior's sword; the sword alone I keep;
These, if thou fear'st not, at one nod of mine
Shall disappear. Bestir thyself: to thee
I give the challenge: let Romilda be
The guerdon of the most successful valour.

Il.
Do thou then die beneath this hand of mine! ..

Rom.
Your swords! ... oh heavens! ... why are ye thus outrageous?
Cease, Ildovaldo; does he merit, think'st thou,
That thou shouldst join with him in single combat?

Il.
Thou speakest truth. To what indignity,
Heated with rage, would I demean myself!

Rom.
Canst thou endure the look of Ildovaldo,
Much less the opposition of his sword?
And if untoward fate to thee should yield
The palm of victory, dost thou fondly think
That I should e'er be thine? Dost thou not know
That I love Ildovaldo more than life,
And that I hate thee more than I love him?

Il.
Should he, then, most a veteran in arms,
Or most a veteran in treachery, gain her?

Al.
What? While I make myself thy equal; while
I hold myself in readiness to fight
For that which I could wrest from thee, thou dar'st
To a magnanimous challenge make reply
With taunting words?—Thou wilt not be my equal?
Then thou art not so: then to-day, I ought,
As fitting from the greater to the less,
Thy insolence to punish. First by right,
And afterwards by every other means,
If thou compel me to them, have I fix'd
To gain my purpose. On no terms will I
Romilda yield to thee. I loved her first:
The outrage which my right-hand did to her,
My right-hand only can repair once more:
I can avenge her: to her ancient rights,
To all her lost possessions, can restore her;
I can do this; and this thou canst not do,
Nor any one but me.

Rom.
It is most true;
Thou canst add perfidy to perfidy,
And thou alone canst do it. Traitor, go:
Wert thou ungrateful only to thy wife,
More than enough e'en that would be to make thee
Detestable to me. I heed not death:
What do I say? far rather would I go
A certain sacrifice to Alaric;
Far rather here remain a slave, exposed
To the dire malice of my cruel step-mother,
Than e'er as my defender suffer thee.

Il.
And I profess to thee, that never thou
Didst a more deep opprobrium cast on me
Than in the attempt to make thyself my equal.
Thou hast not with this foolish love of thine
As yet offended me. Art thou, perchance,
A rival to be fear'd, except, indeed,
The prize disputed be Rosmunda's love?
And she is verily thy counterpart.—
Nor doth thy dark ingratitude inflict
A deeper wound: in this I recognise
In thee a real king.—By hands most vile
Be my head severed from my lifeless trunk
On the dire scaffold; but to single combat
No longer challenge me; in doing this
Thou dost alone offend me. Have I stain'd
My sword, as thou hast, with nocturnal blood,
So that I could, exempted from dishonour,
With thy sword measure it?

Al.
Enough, enough.
Save with thy tongue thou wilt not combat? wilt not
Receive me as thy rival? As thy king
Thou shalt receive me then.—Arrest him, soldiers.

Rom.
Ah! no ...

Il.
Vile sword, that didst defend a tyrant,
Lie on the earth. My hand, and not another's,
Shall strip me of my arms ...

Rom.
Your leader bound
In fetters! Ah, vile sycophants! ... now hear me;
Suspend ... perhaps I ... Oh horrible state! ... Oh hear me ...

Il.
What art thou doing? Wherefore pray'st thou thus?—
I love thee; and thou lov'st me in return.
What cause have we to fear?

Al.
Without delay
From my sight drag him.

Il.
My sole punishment
Arises from thy presence. Let us go.—
Provided that I never more should see thee,
At once I leave to thee my last farewell,
Beloved Romilda, and the solemn vow
Of love eternal, e'en beyond the tomb.