 | The Physician of his own Honour |  |
SCENE IV.
—THE HOUSE OF DOÑA LEONORE.Enter DON ARÍAS and DOÑA LEONORE.
ARÍAS.
Do not think, fair Leonore,
That I meant not to come nigh thee,
Thereby meaning to deny thee
The great debt that, o'er and o'er,
Claims thy honour: no, I plead
Even its magnitude, the better
To explain why I, thy debtor
(Not to pay the debt indeed),
Have but now before thee come;
For 'twere folly, desperation,
To expect such obligation
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Though I cannot pay the debt
Of atonement that I owe thee,
Still I venture here, to show thee
My repentance and regret.
LEONORE.
Señor, I must at once declare
I feel obliged for this, though you,
In the account betwixt us two,
Have scarcely struck the balance fair;
Though you deprived me, I confess,
Of a fond lover that I loved,
Still, the blessing you removed
May have increased my happiness
Since it is better lose even life—
Honour, fame, and reputation,
Than to assume the hapless station
Of an abhorred and hated wife.
I blame my destiny—not thee;—
'Tis true I feel a lasting pain,
But then I only must complain
Of evil stars.
ARÍAS.
This must not be:
No, beauteous Leonore, to take
This fault from me, is to remove
The chance of telling thee the love
I long have cherished for thy sake.
Then in the briefest, simplest way
Let me declare, nor thou reprove me,
That 'tis thy love that now doth move me
To come with trembling lips to say,
That since I have occasioned thee
So many griefs, such sorrows cost—
If a spouse through me you lost,—
Accept a husband now through me.
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Señor, with reason do I feel
The motive that compels thee now,
At such a moment, to avow
The choice your flattering words reveal;
But though I prize this act of thine,
You will permit me to reply
Respectfully, Señor, that I
Your courteous offer must decline;
For, though it were, at any time,
An honour, still, as you have said,
Through you was Gutierre led
To think me guilty of a crime
Against love's laws, and if he saw
Me married unto you, this fact
Following the former fancied act
Would proof from mere suspicion draw.
It were but wantonness to tempt
The censure of the world; so clear
The demonstration would appear
That I deserved its deep contempt:
No, I shall never yield the strong
Just privilege of complaint, that they
Who blame me now should have to say
I gave occasion for my wrong.
Then would the guilty party fill
The place from which the guiltless fell—
No one must think he acted well,
Who as I know did act so ill.
ARÍAS.
This reply of yours doth prove,
Fair Leonore, quite frivolous,
Since though it clearly proved 'tween us
The existence of an ancient love,
It, at the same time, blotteth out
The slightest shadow of a stain;
But see how worse you will remain
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Will still doubt on, and ne'er discover
The reparation that thy heart
Refuses?
LEONORE.
It is not the part
Of a wise or prudent lover,
Don Arías, to advise
What I feel is for my ruin;
For, the wrong that he is doing,
Naught can alter or undo;
Nay 'twere even worse, since he
From doubt would rise to certainty.
As little were it right in you
To act thus either.
ARÍAS.
As for me,
I, from my full confidence
In your bosom's innocence,
Ever satisfied will be;
In my life, I never knew
Any jaundiced jealous lover
Who in trifles could discover
Gravest faults, when married too,
That the Heavens did not chastise:—
Gutierre, Leonore,
Can on this point tell thee more,
He whose overwatchful eyes,
On a stranger's dwelling thrown,
Could a man detect, and be
Outraged so, had better see
What is passing in his own.
LEONORE.
Don Arías, I cannot hear
This falsehood or this bold untruth—
Don Gutierre is in sooth
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One who knows on all occasions
How to live and how to die,
Making word and act comply
With his knightly obligations.
He, a man whose strong bright steel,
Whose sense of right as bright and strong,
Would ne'er have borne the slightest wrong
From an Infante of Castile;
If you thought by this address
Me to flatter, and awaken
Base revenge, you are mistaken:—
Nay, if I the truth confess,
You have lost your chance of me.
If a noble nature's token
You possess'd, you ne'er had spoken
In this way of your enemy;—
For though such my indignation
For his doubting me, I could
Wash out my insult in his blood,
A disloyal imputation
'Gainst his honour wounds me still.
Even for vengeance, time doth tell,
He who loveth once and well
Never seeks the lov'd one's ill.
[Exit.
ARÍAS.
I know not what reply to make:
In honour's schools it is confess'd
Woman's tongue can argue best,
I'm convinced by my mistake.
To the prince I shall direct
Now my steps, and humbly pray
That in his pursuits he may
Hence some other friend select.
Lo! his beams the day doth bury
Tombed within the western main.
I shall die ere I again
Seek the house of Gutierre.
[Exit.
| The Physician of his own Honour | |