Chapter 2

Ottilia _enters in a night dress: her hair flows dishevelled._

_Otti._ Dews of the morn, descend! Breathe, summer gales, My flushed cheeks woo ye! Play, sweet wantons, play 'Mid my loose tresses, fan my panting breast, Quench my blood's burning fever!--Vain, vain prayer! Not Winter, throned 'midst Alpine snows, whose will Can with one breath, one touch, congeal whole realms, And blanch whole seas; not that fiend's self could ease This heart, this gulph of flames, this purple kingdom, Where passion rules and rages!--Oh! my soul! Caesario, my Caesario!--[_A pause, during which she seems buried in thought--the clock strikes four._] Hark!--Ah me! Is't still so early? Will't be still so long, Ere my love comes? Oh! speed, ye pitying hours, Your flight, till mid-day brings Caesario back; Then, if ye list, rest your kind wings for ever!

_Enter_ Lucio.

_Luc._ 'Tis past the hour! I fear I shall be chid, For lo! the sun already darts his rays Athwart the garden-paths.

_Otti._ How still! how tranquil! All rests, except Ottilia! I'll regain The hateful couch, where still my husband sleeps: Ere long he sleeps forever! Ha! why steals Yon boy.----Amazement! Do my eyes deceive me?

_Luc._ Hist! hist! Estella? Estella. [_Appearing on the terrace of the palace._]

_Est._ Lucio?

_Luc._ Ay, the same.

_Est._ Good! good!

_Luc._ But pray you bid him speed. So loud His black Arabian snorts, and paws the earth, I fear he'll wake the guards.

_Est._ Farewell, I'll warn him. [_Ext. severally._

_Otti._ [_Alone._] 'Twas Lucio, sure!--What business.--Ah, how ready Is fear to whisper what love hates to hear.

[Estella _and_ Caesario _appear on the terrace._]

See! see! again Estella comes--and with her-- Shame and despair! burst from your sockets eyes, Since ye dare show me this!--'Tis he! 'Tis he! Caesario! on my soul, Caesario's self---- He bids farewell!--He waves a glittering scarf, A gift of love, no doubt!--Now to his lips He glues it!--Blistered be those lips, Caesario, Which have so oft sworn faith to me:--She goes---- Egyptian plagues go with her! [_Exit Estella._

_Caesa._ [_Looking back at the palace._] Yet one look, One grateful blessing for this night of rapture; Then, shrine of my soul's idol! casket, holding My heart's most precious gem, awhile farewell! But, when my foot next bends thy floors, expect No more this cautious gait, this voice subdued! Proud and erect, with manly steps and strong, I'll come a Conqueror and a King, to lead With sceptred hand forth from her bower my bride, And bid Castile adore her, like Caesario. Farewell, once more farewell!

_Otti._ [_Advancing._] I'll cross his path, And blast him with a look.

_Caesa._ Ottilia?

_Otti._ What! Am I then grown so hideous that my sight Withers the roses on a warrior's cheeks, And makes his steps recoil! In Moorish battles He gazed undaunted on death's frightful form, But shrinks to view a monster like Ottilia.

_Caesa._ [_Aside._] Confusion! Should her rage alarm the guards.

_Otti._ Or do I wrong myself? Is still _my_ form Unchanged, but not thy faith? Speak, traitor, speak!

_Caesa._ I own, most dear Ottilia----

_Otti._ Hark! he owns it! Hear, Earth and Heaven, he owns it! No excuse! No varnish, no disguise!--He will not stoop To use dissembling with a wretch he scorns, Nor thinks it worth his pains to fool me further! Proceed, brave sir, proceed! In trivial strain Tell me how light are lovers' oaths, how fond Youth's heart of change, how quick love comes and flies; And own that yours for me is flown for ever. Then with indifference ask a parting kiss, Hope we shall still be friends, profess esteem, Thank me for favours past, and coldly leave me.

_Caesa._ How shall I hush this storm? [_Aside._]

_Otti._ Oh! fool, fool, fool! I thought him absent; thought mid-day would bring My hero back, and pass'd this sleepless night In prayers, and sighs, and vows for his return; While scorned all oaths, forgot all faith, all honour, Clasped in Estella's wanton arms he lay, And mock'd the poor, undone, deceiv'd Ottilia!

_Caesa._ Estella? [_then aside_] Blest mistake!

_Otti._ What! didst thou hope My rival's name unknown? Oh! well I know it, Estella! cursed Estella! Still I'll shriek it Piercing and loud, till Earth, and Air, and Ocean, Ring with her name, thy guilt, and my despair.

_Caesa._ And need thy words, Ottilia, blame my falsehood? Oh! in each feature of thy beauteous face I blush to read reproaches far more keen. Those glittering eyes, though now with lightnings armed, Which erst were used to pour on blest Caesario Kind looks, and fondest smiles, and tears of rapture; That voice, by wrath untuned, once only breathing Sounds like the ringdove's, amorous, soft, and sweet; That snowy breast, now swelled by storms of passion, But which in happier days by love was heaved, By love for me!--The least of these, Ottilia, Gives to my heart a deeper stab than all Thy words could do, were every word a dagger.

_Otti._ Thou prince of hypocrites!

_Caesa._ Think'st thou I flatter! Then trust thyself--[_leading her to a fountain._] View on this watery mirror Thine angel-form reflected--Lovely shade, Bid this indignant fair confess, how vain Estella's charms were to contend with thine! And yet--oh madman! at Estella's feet Breathing my vows, these eyes forgot these lips, Than roses sweeter, redder--Oh! I'll gaze No more, for gazing I detest myself.

_Otti._ This subtile snake, how winds he round my heart! Oh didst thou speak sincerely.

_Caesa._ At thy feet, Adored Ottilia! lo! I kneel repentant. Couldst thou forgive--Vain man, it must not be. Forgive the fool, who for a lamp's dull gleaming Scorn'd the sun's noon-tide splendour? for a pebble Who gave a diamond worth a monarch's ransom? No, no, thou canst not.

_Otti._ Cannot? Oh Caesario, Thou lov'st no longer, or thou ne'er couldst doubt I can, I must forgive thee!----[_falling on his bosom_]

_Caesa._ Best Ottilia, No seraph's song e'er bore a sweeter sound Breathed in the ear of some expiring saint, Than pardon from thy lips.

_Otti._ Those lips again Thus seal it!----Yet to prove thy faith, I ask--

_Caesa._ What can Ottilia ask, and I deny?

_Otti._ The scarf you wear.----

_Caesa._ [_Starting._] Ottilia!

_Otti._ Well I know It was Estella's gift. I'll therefore wear it, And with her jealous pangs repay my own. Give me that scarf.

_Caesa._ And can Ottilia wish So mean a triumph?

_Otti._ Ha! beware, Caesario! My foot is on thy neck, and should I find Thy head a snake's I'll crush it! quick! the scarf! Am I refused?

_Caesa._ Ottilia, be persuaded. More nobly use thy power.

_Otti._ [_Suffocated with rage._] The scarf! the scarf!

_Caesa._ I value not the toy, nor her who gave it. Then wherefore triumph o'er a fallen foe? It must not be----Hark! footsteps!--Sweet, farewell! Ere night we meet again.----[_Going._]

_Otti._ Yes, go, perfidious! But know, ere night, thy head shall grace the scaffold!

_Caesa._ [_Returning._] Saidst thou----

_Otti._ Last night my husband's dreams revealed A secret.

_Caesa._ [_Starting._] How? thy husband? Marquis Guzman?

_Otti._ He spoke of plots--of soldiers brib'd----

[_looking round mysteriously, and pointing to the lower part of the palace._]

Of vaults Beneath the royal chamber--Wherefore tell I To thee a tale thou know'st thyself full well? I'll tell it to the king----[_Going._]

_Caesa._ Ottilia, stay!

_Otti._ The scarf.

_Caesa._ [_Giving it._] 'Tis thine!----My life is in thy hands. Be secret, and I live thy slave forever. [_Exit._

_Otti._ [_Alone._] 'Tis plain! 'tis plain! traitor, thou lov'st her still! Am I forsaken then? Oh shame, shame, shame! Forsaken too by one, for whom last night I dared a deed which----Ha! the palace opens, And lo! Estella with the princess comes. I'll hence, but soon returning make my rival Feel what I suffer now. Thus fell Megaera; Tears from her heart one of those snakes which gnaw it, To throw upon some wretch; and when it stings him, Wild laughs the fiend to see his pangs, well knowing How keen those pangs are, since she feels the same. [_Exit._

Amelrosa, Estella, Inis, _and ladies, appear on the terrace of the palace._

_Amel._ Forth, forth my friends! the morn will blush to hear Our tardy greeting [_descending._] Gently, winds, I pray ye, Breathe through this grove; and thou, all-radiant sun, Woo not these bowers beloved with kiss too fierce. Oh! look, my ladies, how yon beauteous rose, O'er charged with dew, bends its fair head to earth, Emblem of sorrowing virtue! [_to Inis_] would'st thou break it? See'st not its silken leaves are stain'd with tears? Ever, my Inis, where thou find'st these traces, Show thou most kindness, most respect. I'll raise it, And bind it gently to its neighbour rose; So shall it live, and still its blushing bosom Yield the wild bee, its little love, repose.

_Inis._ Its love? Can flowers then love?

_Amel._ Oh! what cannot? There's nothing lives, in air, on earth, in ocean, But lives to love! for when the Great Unknown Parted the elements, and out of chaos Formed this fair world with one blest blessing word, That word was Love? Angels, with golden clarions, Prolonged in heavenly strain the heavenly sound: The mountain-echoes caught it: the four winds Spread it, rejoicing o'er the world of waters; And since that hour, in forest, or by fountain, On hill or moor, whate'er be Nature's song, Love is her theme, Love! universal Love!

_Est._ See, lady where the king----

_Amel._ I haste to meet him.

_Enter_ Alfonso, _and attendants._

_Amel._ [_Kneeling._] My father! my dear father!

_Alfon._ Heaven's best dews Fall on thy beauteous head, my Amelrosa, And be each drop a blessing!--Cheered by morning Fair smile the skies; but nothing smiles on me, Till I have seen thee well, and know thee happy.

_Amel._ And I _were_ happy, if my eyes perceived not Tears clouding thine. Oh! what has power to grieve thee On this proud day, when rich in spoils and glory Caesario brings thee back thy conquering troops, That brave young warrior? Spite of Moorish hosts, And all their new-found engines of destruction, Sulphureous mines and mouths of iron thunder, He forced their gates! He leap'd their flaming gulphs! Pale as their banner'd crescent fled the Moors, And proudly streamed our flag o'er Algesiras!

_Alfon._ And with them fled--Oh! have I words to speak it? Thy brother, Amelrosa!

_Amel._ How! my brother?

_Alfon._ Oh! 'tis too true. He thinks I live too long, So joined the Moors to hurl me from my throne, Guided their councils, sharpened their resentment, And, when they fled, fled with them.

_Amel._ Powers of mercy! Can there be hearts so black!

_Alfon._ Poor wretched man, Where shall I turn me? where, since lust of power Makes a son faithless, find a friend that's true? Where fly for comfort?----

_Amel._ To this heart, my father! This heart, which, while it throbs, shall throb to love thee. Stream thy dear eyes? my hand shall dry those tears; Aches thy poor head? My bosom shall support it! And when thou sleep'st, I'll watch thy dreams, and pray---- "Changed be to joy the sorrow which afflicts My king, my father, my soul's best friend!"--

_Alfon._ My child! my comfort!--Yes, yes! here's the chain, The only chain that binds me to existence-- And should that break too--should'st thou e'er deceive me-- Oh! should'st thou, Amelrosa.

_Amel._ Doubts my father?

_Alfon._ No, no!--Nay, droop not. By my soul, I think thee As free from guile, as yon blue vault from clouds, And clear as rain-drops ere they touch the earth! Nor love I mean suspicion:--where I give My heart I give my faith, my whole firm faith, And hold it base to doubt the thing I value.

_Amel._ Then why that wronging thought?

_Alfon._ By fear 'twas prompted; By fear to lose, but not by doubt to keep. And well my heart may fear. Think, think how keenly Ingratitude has wrung that trusting heart! Think that my faithless son but rends anew A wound scarce fourteen years had healed.

_Amel._ Orsino.

_Alfon._ He! he! that man--Oh! how I loved that man! And yet that man betrayed me!

_Amel._ Is that certain? Might not deception----? Slander loves the court, And slippery are the heights of royal favour. Who stumbles, falls; who falls, finds none to raise him.

_Alfon._ Nay, but I saw the writings; 'twas his hand, His very hand, nor dared he disavow it: For when I taxed him with his guilt, and showed him His letters to the Moor, awhile he eyed me In sullen silence, then contemptuous smiled, And coldly bade me treat him as I list. Arraigned, no plea excused his dark offence; Condemned to die, no word implored for pardon: But my heart pleaded stronger than all words! I saved his life, yet bade him live a prisoner Or clear himself from guilt.

_Amel._ And did he never----

_Alfon._ Without one word or look, one tear or sigh, He turned away, and silent sought the dungeon Where three years since he died----Ah! said I, died? No, no, he lives! lives in my memory still, Such as in youth's fond dreams my fancy formed him, Virtuous and brave, faithful, sincere and just; My friend? my guide?--a Phoenix among men! How now? What haste brings fair Ottilia hither?

_Enter_ Ottilia, _wearing the scarf_.

Pardon, my sovereign, that uncalled I come You see a suppliant from a dying man.

_Alfon._ Lady, from whom?

_Otti._ My husband, Marquis Guzman, Lies on the bed of death, and, stung by conscience, By me unloads it of this secret guilt! Those traitor-scrolls, which bore Orsino's name--

_Alfon._ Say on, say on!

_Otti._ By Guzman's hand were forged.

_Alfon._ Forged?--No, no, no! Lady, it cannot be! Unsay thy words or stab me!

_Otti._ Gracious Sir, Look on these papers.

_Alfon._ Ha!

[_After looking at them, drops them, and clasps his hands in agony._]

_Amel._ Father! dear father!

_Alfon._ Father! I merit not that name, nor any Sweet, good, or gracious. Call me villain! fiend! Suspicious tyrant! treacherous, calm assassin! Who slew the truest, noblest friend, that ever Man's heart was blest with!--Ha! why kneels my child?

_Amel._ For pardon first that I have dar'd deceive thee----

_Alfon._ Deceive me!

_Amel._ Next to pay pure thanks to Heaven, Which grants me to allay my father's anguish With words of most sweet comfort.

_Alfon._ Ha! what means't thou?

_Amel._ Four years are past since first Orsino's sorrows Struck on my startled ear: that sound once heard, Ne'er left my ear again, but day and night, Whether I walked or sate, awake or sleeping, The captive, the poor captive still was there. The rain seemed but _his_ tears; his hopeless groans Spoke in each hollow wind; his nights of anguish Robbed mine of rest; or, if I slept, my dreams Showed his pale wasted form, his beamless eye Fixed on the moon, his meager hands now folded In dull despair, now rending his few locks Untimely gray; and now again in frenzy Dreadful he shrieked; tore with his teeth his flesh; 'Gainst his dark prison-walls dashed out his brains, And died despairing! From my couch I started; Sunk upon my knees; I kissed this cross, ----"Captive," I cried, "I'll die or set thee free!"----

_Alfon._ And didst thou? Bless thee, didst thou?

_Amel._ Moved by gold, More by my prayers, most by his own heart's pity, His jailer yielded to release Orsino, And spread his death's report.--One night when all Was hushed, I sought his tower, unlocked his chains, And bade him rise and fly! With vacant stare, Bewildered, wondering, doubting what he heard, He followed to the gate. But when he viewed The sky thick sown with stars, and drank heaven's air, And heard the nightingale and saw the moon Shed o'er these groves a shower of silver light, Hope thawed his frozen heart; in livelier current Flowed his grief-thickened blood, his proud soul melted, And down his furrowed cheeks kind tears came stealing, Sad, sweet, and gentle as the dews, which evening Sheds o'er expiring day. Words had he none, But with his looks he thanked me. At my feet He sunk; he wrung my hand; his pale lips pressed it; He sighed, he rose, he fled; he lives, my father!

_Alfon._ [_Kneeling._] Fountain of bliss! words are too poor for thanks; Oh! deign to read them here!

_Amel._ Canst thou forgive My long deceit----

_Alfon._ Forgive thee? To my heart Thus let me clasp thee, best of earthly blessings, Balm of my soul, and saviour of my justice! Oh! blest were kings, when fraud ensnares their sense, And passion arms their hands, if still they found One who like thee dared stand the victim's friend, Wrest from proud lawless Power his brandished javelin, And make him virtuous in his own despite!

_Enter_ Ricardo.

_Ricar._ My liege, your conquering general brave Caesario, Draws near the walls.

_Alfon._ I hasten to receive The hero and his troops: that duty done, I'll seek my wronged friend's pardon. Say my child, Where dwells Orsino?

_Amel._ In the neighbouring forest He lives a hermit: Inis knows the place.

_Alfon._ Ere night I'll seek him there. And now farewell Ever beloved, but now more loved than ever! Oh! still as now watch o'er and timely check My hasty nature; still, their guardian-angel, Protect my people, e'en from _me_ protect them: Then, after ages, pondering o'er the page Which bears my name, shall see, and seen shall bless That union most beloved of man and heaven, A patriot monarch, and a people free!

[_Exit with_ Ricardo _and attendants_.]

_Amel._ My good kind father! fatal, fatal, secret, How weigh'st thou down my heart! [_Remains buried in thought._]

_Otti._ I'll haste and calm My husband's conscience with Orsino's safety. But when our Spanish beauties throng the ramparts, Anxious to see, and anxious to be seen, Why stays Estella from the walls?

_Estel._ Both duty And friendship chain me where the princess stays.

_Otti._ Duty and friendship? trust me, glorious words;-- Yet there's a sweeter--Love! Boasts the gay band, Which circles brave Caesario's laurelled car, No youth who proudly wears Estella's colours, And knows no glory like Estella's smile?

_Estel._ Ha! Sure my sight must err?

_Otti._ [_Aside._] She sees and knows it.

_Estel._ It must be that!----Princess!

_Otti._ [Aside.] So so! now flies she To her she--Pylades for aid and comfort. Oh most rare sympathy! How the fiend starts! And, trust me, changes colour!

_Amel._ Say'st thou? how? Away, it cannot be!

_Estel._ Convince thyself then.

_Otti._ [_Aside._] Ay, look your fill! look till your eye-strings break. For 'tis that scarf; that very, very scarf?---- So now the question comes.

_Estel._ Forgive me lady, Nor hold me rude, that much I wish to know, Whence came the scarf you wear?

_Otti._ This scarf----Alas! A paltry toy! a very soldier's present.

_Estel._ A soldier's!

_Otti._ Ay. 'Twas sent me from the camp: But with such bitter taunts on her who wrought it---- Breathed ever mortal man such thoughts of me, _My_ heart would break or _his_ should bleed for it!

_Estel._ Say you?

_Otti._ Nay mark--"Receive, proud fair,"--thus ran the letter-- "This scarf, forced on me by a hand I loath, With many an amorous word and tasteless kiss! As I for thee, so burns for me the wanton; To me as thine, cold is my heart to her; Nor canst thou more despise the gift than I Scorn the fond fool who gave it!"----

_Amel._ Oh! my heart!

_Inis._ Look to the Princess.

_Otti._ [_Starting._] Ha!

_Estel._ She faints!

_Amel._ No, no, 'Tis nothing--mid-day's heat--the o'erpowering sun-- I'll in and rest.

_Otti._ Princess, permit----

_Amel._ No lady! I need no aid of thine--In, in, Estella. Oh! cruel, false Caesario!

[_Exit with_ Estella, Inis, _and Ladies_.]

_Otti._ [_Alone._] Ha! is't so? And flies my falcon at so high a lure? The princess! 'tis the princess that he loves!-- And shall I calmly see her bear away This dear-bought prize, my secret crime's reward, My lord, my love, my life, my all?----She dies! [_Exit._

_End of Act I._