Chapter 4
ABDALAZIS _enters_.
_Abd._ Julian, to thee, the terror of the faithless, I bring my father’s order, to prepare For the bright day that crowns thy brave exploits: Our enemy is at the very gate! And art thou here, with women in thy train, Crouching to gain admittance to their lord, And mourning the unkindness of delay!
[_Julian_, _much agitated_, _goes towards the door_, _and returns_.
_Jul._ I am prepared: Prince, judge not hastily.
_Abd._ Whether I should not promise all they ask, I too could hesitate, tho’ earlier taught The duty to obey, and should rejoice To shelter in the universal storm A frame so delicate, so full of fears, So little used to outrage and to arms, As one of these; so humble, so uncheer’d At the gay pomp that smooths the track of war: When she beheld me from afar dismount, And heard my trumpet, she alone drew back, And, as tho’ doubtful of the help she seeks, Shudder’d to see the jewels on my brow, And turn’d her eyes away, and wept aloud. The other stood, awhile, and then advanced: I would have spoken; but she waved her hand And said, “_Proceed_, _protect us_, _and avenge_, _And be thou worthier of the crown thou wearest_.” Hopeful and happy is indeed our cause, When the most timid of the lovely hail Stranger and foe—
[_Roderigo_, _unnoticed by Abdalazis_.
_Rod._ And shrink, but to advance.
_Abd._ Thou tremblest! whence, O Julian! whence this change? Thou lovest still thy country.
_Jul._ Abdalazis! All men with human feelings love their country. Not the high-born or wealthy man alone, Who looks upon his children, each one led By its gay hand-maid, from the high alcove, And hears them once aday; not only he Who hath forgotten, when his guest inquires The name of some far village all his own; Whose rivers bound the province, and whose hills Touch the last cloud upon the level sky: No; better men still better love their country. ’Tis the old mansion of their earliest friends, The chapel of their first and best devotions; When violence, or perfidy, invades, Or when unworthy lords hold wassail there, And wiser heads are drooping round its moats, At last they fix their steddy and stiff eye There, there alone—stand while the trumpet blows, And view the hostile flames above its towers Spire, with a bitter and severe delight.
[_Abdalazis_, _taking his hand_.
_Abd._ Thou feelest what thou speakest, and thy Spain Will ne’er be shelter’d from her fate by thee We, whom the Prophet sends o’er many lands Love none above another; Heaven assigns Their fields and harvests to our valiant swords, And ’tis enough—we love while we enjoy. Whence is the man in that fantastic guise? Suppliant? or herald?—he who stalks about, And once was even seated while we spoke, For never came he with us o’er the sea.
_Jul._ He comes as herald.
_Rod._ Thou shalt know full soon, Insulting Moor.
[_Julian intercedes_.
_Abd._ He cannot bear the grief His country suffers; I will pardon him. He lost his courage first, and then his mind; His courage rushes back, his mind still wanders. The guest of heaven was piteous to these men, And princes stoop to feed them in their courts.