Chapter 4
ROSAURA, CLOTALDO, CLARIN, Soldiers.
ROSAURA. Since I now have seen how pride Can offend thee, I were hardened Sure in folly not here humbly At thy feet for life to ask thee; Then to me extend thy pity, Since it were a special harshness If humility and pride, Both alike were disregarded.
CLARIN. If Humility and Pride Those two figures who have acted Many and many a thousand times In the "autos sacramentales", Do not move you, I, who am neither Proud nor humble, but a sandwich Partly mixed of both, entreat you To extend to us your pardon.
CLOTALDO. Ho!
SOLDIERS. My lord?
CLOTALDO. Disarm the two, And their eyes securely bandage, So that they may not be able To see whither they are carried.
ROSAURA. This is, sir, my sword; to thee Only would I wish to hand it, Since in fine of all the others Thou art chief, and I could hardly Yield it unto one less noble.
CLARIN. Mine I'll give the greatest rascal Of your troop: [To a Soldier.] so take it, you.
ROSAURA. And if I must die, to thank thee For thy pity, I would leave thee This as pledge, which has its value From the owner who once wore it; That thou guard it well, I charge thee, For although I do not know What strange secret it may carry, This I know, that some great mystery Lies within this golden scabbard, Since relying but on it I to Poland here have travelled To revenge a wrong.
CLOTALDO [aside.] Just heavens! What is this? Still graver, darker, Grow my doubts and my confusion, My anxieties and my anguish.-- Speak, who gave you this?
ROSAURA. A woman.
CLOTALDO. And her name?
ROSAURA. To that my answer Must be silence.
CLOTALDO. But from what Do you now infer, or fancy, That this sword involves a secret?
ROSAURA. She who gave it said: "Depart hence Into Poland, and by study, Stratagem, and skill so manage That this sword may be inspected By the nobles and the magnates Of that land, for you, I know, Will by one of them be guarded,"-- But his name, lest he was dead, Was not then to me imparted.
CLOTALDO [aside]. Bless me, Heaven! what's this I hear? For so strangely has this happened, That I cannot yet determine If 'tis real or imagined. This is the same sword that I Left with beauteous Violante, As a pledge unto its wearer, Who might seek me out thereafter, As a son that I would love him, And protect him as a father. What is to be done (ah, me!) In confusion so entangled, If he who for safety bore it Bears it now but to dispatch him, Since condemned to death he cometh To my feet? How strange a marvel! What a lamentable fortune! How unstable! how unhappy! This must be my son -- the tokens All declare it, superadded To the flutter of the heart, That to see him loudly rappeth At the breast, and not being able With its throbs to burst its chamber, Does as one in prison, who, Hearing tumult in the alley, Strives to look from out the window; Thus, not knowing what here passes Save the noise, the heart uprusheth To the eyes the cause to examine -- They the windows of the heart, Out through which in tears it glances. What is to be done? (O Heavens!) What is to be done? To drag him Now before the King were death; But to hide him from my master, That I cannot do, according To my duty as a vassal. Thus my loyalty and self-love Upon either side attack me; Each would win. But wherefore doubt? Is not loyalty a grander, Nobler thing than life, than honour? Then let loyalty live, no matter That he die; besides, he told me, If I well recall his language, That he came to revenge a wrong, But a wronged man is a lazar,-- No, he cannot be my son, Not the son of noble fathers. But if some great chance, which no one Can be free from, should have happened, Since the delicate sense of honour Is a thing so fine, so fragile, That the slightest touch may break it, Or the faintest breath may tarnish, What could he do more, do more, He whose cheek the blue blood mantles, But at many risks to have come here It again to re-establish? Yes, he is my son, my blood, Since he shows himself so manly. And thus then betwixt two doubts A mid course alone is granted: 'Tis to seek the King, and tell him Who he is, let what will happen. A desire to save my honour May appease my royal master; Should he spare his life, I then Will assist him in demanding His revenge; but if the King Should, persisting in his anger, Give him death, then he will die Without knowing I'm his father.-- [To ROSAURA and CLARIN.] Come, then, come then with me, strangers. Do not fear in your disasters That you will not have companions In misfortune; for so balanced Are the gains of life or death, That I know not which are larger.
[Exeunt.]
* * * * *