Chapter 6

_Enter_ Ottilia _and_ Inis.

_Otti._ Was it so sudden?--What, no cause assigned, And so severe a shock too?--Trust me, Inis, Thy tale alarms me.

_Inis._ On the earth we found her Senseless and cold: we raised and bore her hither, Where she revived only to sigh and sorrow, Wring her fair hands, and shriek her father's name.

_Otti._ 'Tis wondrous strange,--Mourning my own afflictions, This rumour reached me; straight all else forgotten, Hither by love and duty urged I sped, Nor come I trust in vain,----this phial holds Drops of most precious power.--Good Inis take it, And in your lady's drink infuse this liquid: My life upon her cure.

_Inis._ Obedience best Will speak my thanks, nor doubt----Lo, where approaches My lady's ghostly father, holy Bazil.

_Enter Father_ Bazil.

_Bazil._ Pardon that rudely thus I break your parley, But from the king I come, to bid the Infanta Attend him here.----Good Inis lead me to her.

_Inis._ Here lies our way--Again I thank you, lady; Ere night I'll use your gift. [_Exit with_ Bazil.

_Otti._ And if thou dost, Go ring a funeral knel, and get thee mourning, And gather flowers to strew thy lady's grave: Thou'lt gather none so sweet as that I wither, --Hark! 'twas her voice.----How at the sound seemed ice To seize my every vein!--My victim comes! --I cannot bear her sight!--So young to die! So young, so fair, so gentle, and so good! With such an angel's life, and my soul's quiet-- Oh, God! Caesario, thou art purchased dearly.

[_Exit._

_Enter_ Amelrosa, Bazil, Estella, Inis, _and attendants_.

_Bazil._ No passion flushed his cheek; his voice, his manner, Though solemn were not stern; and when he named you, A tear gushed forth, ere he could turn him from me. Then droop not thus, nor doubt paternal love.--

_Amel._ Oh! 'tis that love distracts me, for his love Was love so great! 'Twas but this morn he termed me The only tie which chained him still to life! And I have broke that tie!

_Bazil._ Nay, gentle princess!

_Amel._ Perhaps have broke his heart too! from his lips Have dashed joy's last poor lingering drop, and shown him, His only prop was frail as all the former! Could I but think he felt like common parents, That when he found my fault, affection died, Then I were blest! then I alone should suffer, And when his hatred broke my heart, could seek Some lone sad place, and lay me down and die! Alas! alas! I know I was his darling! Know by the joy I gave him once, too well How sharp the grief must be, I cause him now!

_Bazil._ That partial love which cherished thus your virtues, Will now absolve your fault.

_Amel._ But when he frowns? I ne'er yet saw him frown,--but sure he's dreadful! Oh! ere I meet those eyes (which yet ne'er viewed me But their kind language spoke uncounted blessings) And find them dark with gloom, and dread with lightnings, Closed be my own in death!--Hark! hark! he comes In all his terrors, comes to spurn and drive me For ever from his sight.--His frown will kill me! Shield me, Estella, shield me!

Alfonso _enters, followed by_ Ricardo _and courtiers_.

_Alfon._ [_Aside, looking at_ Amelrosa.] Can it be! Can she too have deceived--!--Retire awhile.

[_Exeunt_ Estella, &c.

_Manent_ Alfonso _and_ Amelrosa.

_Amel._ [_Advancing with timidity, then rushing forward and falling prostrate at his feet._] My father?--Oh! my father.

_Alfon._ Rise! Nay rise: what fears't thou? Wherefore weep, and tremble? _Thou_ hast no cause for grief! The poisoned arrow Has pierced no heart but mine! These eyes alone Need weep for what they've seen! _Thou_ hast not felt What 'tis to lose all faith in man! to see Joy and hope die together; and to find, When all thy soul loved best hung on thy neck, Each kiss was false, and each sweet smile was hollow! Well! well! 'Tis past grief's curing! wondrous bitter, But must be borne! a few short months, and then The grave mends all.

_Amel._ [_Aside._] Pangs of the dying sinner, Are ye more sharp than mine!

_Alfon._ More tears?--Perhaps You tremble, lest my regal wrath should crush The audacious slave who stole his sovereign's daughter? No, princess, no! I can excuse the youth, Nor look from mortals for divine forbearance. A fairer fruit than ever dragon guarded, Courting his hand and hung within his grasp, He could not choose but pluck it.

_Amel._ Oh! I would My heart would spring before thine eyes, and show thee Each word thou utter'st, written there in blood! That it could speak----!

_Alfon._ What could it say? but plead The youth's fair form, high fame, and great acquirements! Gratitude that from ruffian hands he saved thee, Feelings too fond, and thus excuse thy love! But could it e'er excuse thy long dissembling, Thy seeming confidence, thy vows all broken, Thy arts to lull me in a blissful dream, From which the waking's dreadful! Why deceive me? Why hide as from a foe thy thoughts from me? Why banish me thy bosom? didst thou fear me? Didst fear my power, my pride, my wrath? Oh! was I-- Was I so harsh a father, Amelrosa?

_Amel._ [_Aside._] Heart, sure thy strings are steel, or they would break!

_Alfon._ Yet 'Tis deserved? I was too fond! too partial! Still loved thee better than my son, whose heart Perhaps this partial love has turned against me-- If so, my pain is just!--Daughter I'll chide No more; nor came I here to chide, but bless thee, This parchment gives thy lord Medina's dukedom, With all its fair domains; the dowry promised, When my fond bosom hoped that princely Arragon---- But that's now passed!--Take it--farewell--be happy---- We meet no more!

_Amel._ [_Covering her face with her hands_] Oh? heaven!

_Alfon._ 'Twere vain, 'twere cruel, To make thee toil to fan thy love's faint embers, Since faith is dead; and though I still doat on thee, I'll trust no more--Thy choice is made, and may That choice prove all thy fondest dreams e'er pictured! Blest be thy days as the first man's in Eden, Before sin was! Be thy brave lord's affection Firm as his valour, lovely as thy form! And shouldst thou ever know, with thy whole soul What 'tis to love a child, and hold it dearer Than freedom, light, or life--Oh may that darling Show thee more faith than thou hast shown to me. I've done--Have there the deed--Farewell!

_Amel._ [_Grasping the hand which he extends with the parchment, and pressing it to her lips._] Have mercy!

_Alfon._ Mercy?--On whom?

_Amel._ An humbled, breaking heart, But which, though breaking, loves thee dearly, dearly! Throw me not from thee!

_Alfon._ Hast not all thy wishes? Thy husband's pardon, honour, wealth, and freedom, To live with whom, and how, and where thou wilt? What wouldst thou more?

_Amel._ That, without which all these Are nothing, and each seeming grace true curses! Thy heart! thy heart my father! Give me that! Thy whole, whole heart, such as I once possessed it, Soft--kind--indulgent--open--feeling--fond! 'Tis this I ask,--or, this denied, to die. Yes! strike me at your foot; spurn, trample, crush me! Twist in my streaming locks your hand, and drag me, Till from my wounded bosom streams of blood Gush forth, and dye the marble red!--All this Were far less anguish to a _generous_ soul, Than this so torturing love, so cruel kindness!

_Alfon._ I will not hear----

_Amel._ Oh! leave me not, my father, Nor bid me leave thee! Let my anguish move thee; Let not, though great, a single error lose me The fruits of twenty years pass'd in thy service, Which in thy service pass'd seemed short as moments.

_Alfon._ It must not be--

_Amel._ You would, but cannot hide it; I still am dear! Each look, each feature speaks it, Speaks to a softening heart--Oh! hear its pleading, And bid me stay! I'll only stay to love thee! Look on me! mark my altered form! observe The strong convulsions of my gasping bosom! See my wan cheeks, eyes swoln, lips trembling! feel How scalding are the tears with which I dew This dear, dear hand! Judge by thy own _my_ sufferings, And bid me cease to suffer; when with force, Such as despair alone can give, and louder Than fiends implore from their volcanic prisons The Arch-angel's grace, I cry to thee--"Have mercy."--

_Alfon._ My child--No, no!--'Twere weakness--

_Amel._ Weakness, say'st thou? Oh! glorious fault! Oh! fair defect!--Oh! weakness Passing all strength! If to forgive be sin, How deeply then must Heaven have sinned to man! Oh! be thy faults like Heaven's! Relent, my father! Pardon--! Oh! speak that word!

_Alfon._ My heart! my heart! My bursting heart!

_Amel._ That word, that blessed word, So quickly said, so easy, as 'twere magic Breaks sorrow's spell and bids her phantoms fly! That word, that word, that one, one little word. And I am blest!----

_Alfonso._ [_Yielding to his emotions, and clasping her eagerly to his bosom._] Be blest then! _Exit._

_Amel._ Now, ye stars, Which nightly grace the sky, if ye love goodness Pour dews celestial from your golden vials On yon dear gracious head!--Oh why is now My husband absent? Lend thy doves dear Venus, That I may send them where Caesario strays; And while he smoothes their silver wings, and gives them For drink the honey of his lips, I'll bid them Coo in his ear, his Amelrosa's happy! Joy, joy, my soul! Bound, my gay dancing heart! Waft me, ye winds! To bear so blest a creature Earth is not worthy! Loved by those I love, I've all my soul e'er wished, my hopes e'er fancied, My father's friendship, and Caesario's heart! Leave me but these, and, fortune I defy thee! [_Exit._