Chapter 19

EGILONA _enters_.

_Abd._ Advance, O queen. Now let the turbulence of faction cease.

_Muza_. Whate’er thy purpose, speak, and be composed.

_Egil._ He goes; he is afar; he follows her; He leads her to the altar, to the throne, For, calm in vengeance, wise in wickedness, The traitor hath prevailed, o’er him, o’er me, O’er you—the slaves, the dupes, the scorn, of Julian. What have I heard! what have I seen!

_Muza_. Proceed—

_Abd._ —And I swear vengeance on his guilty head Who intercepts from thee the golden rays Of sovranty; who dares rescind thy rights; Who steals upon thy rest, and breathes around Empoisoned damps o’er that serenity Which leaves the world, and faintly lingers here.

_Muza_. Who shuns thee—

_Abd._ —Whose desertion interdicts Homage, authority, precedency—

_Muza_. Till war shall rescue them—

_Abd._ —And love restore.

_Egil._ O generous Abdalazis! never! never! My enemies—Julian alone remains— The worst, in safety, far beyond my reach, Breathe freely on the summit of their hopes; Because they never stopt, because they sprang From crime to crime, and trampled down remorse. Oh! if her heart knew tenderness like mine! Grant vengeance on the guilty; grant but that, I ask no more; my hand, my crown, is thine. Fulfill the justice of offended heaven, Assert the sacred rights of royalty, Come not in vain, crush the rebellious crew, Crush, I implore, the indifferent and supine.

_Muza_. Roderigo thus escaped from Julian’s tent?

_Egil._ No, not escaped—escorted—like a king. The base Covilla first pursued her way On foot; but after her the royal car, Which bore me from San Pablos to the throne, Empty indeed, yet ready at her voice, Rolled o’er the plain, amid the carcases Of those who fell in battle or in flight: She, a deceiver still, to whate’er speed The moment might incite her, often stopt To mingle prayers with the departing breath, Improvident! and those with heavy wounds Groaned bitterly beneath her tottering knee.

_Tarik_. Now, by the clement and the merciful! The girl did well: when I breathe out my soul, Oh! if compassion give one pang the more, That pang be mine; here be it, in this land— Such women are they in this land alone.

_Egil._ Insulting man!

_Muza_. We shall confound him yet. Say, and speak quickly, whither went the king? Thou knewest where was Julian.

_Abd._ I will tell Without his answer: yes, my friends! yes, Tarik, Now will I speak, nor thou, for once, reply. There is, I hear, a poor half-ruin’d cell In Xeres, whither few indeed resort; Green are the walls within, green is the floor And slippery from disuse; for christian feet Avoid it, as half-holy, half-accurst. Still in its dark recess fanatic sin Abases to the ground his tangled hair, And servile scourges and reluctant groans Roll o’er the vault uninterruptedly, Till, such the natural stilness of the place, The very tear upon the damps below Drops audible, and the heart’s throb replies. There is the idol maid of christian creed, And taller images, whose history I know not, nor inquired—a scene of blood, Of resignation amid mortal pangs, And other things, exceeding all belief. Hither the aged Opas of Seville Walked slowly, and behind him was a man Barefooted, bruized, dejected, comfortless, In sack-cloth; the white ashes on his head Dropt as he smote his breast—he gathered up, Replaced them all, groan’d deeply, looked to heaven, And held them, like a treasure, with claspt hands.

_Egil._ O! was Roderigo so abased?

_Muza_. ’Twas he. Now, Egilona, judge between your friends And enemies—behold what wretches brought The king, thy lord, Roderigo, to disgrace.

_Egil._ He merited—but not from them—from me This, and much worse: had I inflicted it, I had rejoiced—at what I ill endure.

_Muza_. For thee, for thee alone, we wished him here, But other hands released him—

_Abd._ —With what aim Will soon appear to those discerning eyes.

_Egil._ I pray thee, tell what past until that hour.

_Abd._ Few words, and indistinct: repentant sobs Filled the whole space; the taper in his hand, Lighting two small dim lamps before the altar, He gave to Opas—at the idol’s feet He laid his crown, and wiped his tears away: The crown reverts not, but the tears return.

_Egil._ Yes, Abdalazis! soon, abundantly. If he had only called upon my name, Seeking my pardon ere he looked to heaven’s, I could have—no! he thought not once on me! Never shall he find peace or confidence; I will rely on fortune and on thee Nor fear my future lot: sure, Abdalazis, A fall so great can never happen twice, Nor man again be faithless, like Roderigo.

_Abd._ Faithless he may be still, never so faithless. Fainter must be the charms, remote the days, When memory and dread example die, When love and terror thrill the heart no more, And Egilona is herself forgotten.