Chapter 7

_Enter_ Caesario _and_ Henriquez.

_Caesa._ He spurned him, Marquis, spurned him! With such scorn, Such genuine ardent hate, repaid his soothing-- Oh! by that hate I feel, the blood which fills These veins is right Orsino's!

_Hen._ 'Tis reported, The king shed tears.

_Caesa._ Marquis, he wept, fawned, pleaded Remorse, and sued for pardon, with such fervour, As starving souls for bread!

_Hen._ Did not at this Orsino's ire melt?

_Caesa._ Melt? Like yon fortress rock, (Which rears his tower-clad front above the billows, Nor heeds the winds that blow, nor rains that beat) Proof against tears, and deaf to all entreaties, Unmoved the stern one stood, and frowned his answer. Oh! fear not, friend: like me he loaths Alfonso, And, when I place revenge within his grasping, Will spring to reach it.

_Hen._ 'Tis past doubt, his aid Were to our cause a tower of strength; yet still I fear, lest----Some one leaves the cave!--'Tis he! I'll wait beneath yon limes. [_Exit._

Orsino _enters from the cave_.

_Caesa._ Now by my life A noble ruin!

_Orsi._ I return to Burgos? For what? To show my scars and hear court ladies Rail at the wars for making men so hideous? To bear the coxcomb's sneer, the minion's fawning, And see fools sweetly smile at my good fortune, Who, when my death was signed, smiled full as sweetly? No, no, I'll none on't. [_Seeing_ Caesario.] Plagues and fiends! another! More gold and silk; more musk, fair words, and lying! Will these court flies ne'er cease to buz around me? Well, sir, what seek ye here?

_Caesa._ Revenge.

_Orsi._ Indeed! On whom?

_Caesa._ On lawless power. Ask ye for what? A father's wrongs and mother's murder!

_Orsi._ (_starting._) How! That voice--Let me look on thee well--Those lips, Those eyes--Oh Heaven! those eyes, too! I ne'er saw But one have eyes like thine, an earthly angel, And with the angels now. Fair youth, who art thou?

_Caesa._ Speaks not thy heart?

_Orsi._ It does, youth, Oh! It does; But I'll not trust it; for if false its whispers So sweet, so painful sweet--Dear good youth tell me, Spare a poor broken heart, and tell me quickly Thy father's name.

_Caesa._ My father! Oh! that was A man indeed, and model for all others! His country's sword, his country's shield, a hero, A demigod; and great as were his actions, So were his wrongs.

_Orsi._ His name! his name!

_Caesa._ (_rushing into his arms_) Orsino!

_Orsi._ I have him! hold him here! Death alone parts us. My son! Victoria's son! Come, come, my boy, Kneel at this tomb with me; join thou my suit For the blest dust beneath, and read through tears Here sleeps thy mother. Wandering forth to seek her, Unknown her fate and thine, chance led me hither. I marked yon tablet, read yon piteous lines, Threw those now useless arms forever from me, Sank on Victoria's grave, nor left it more; Yet, yet I died not! Amelrosa's kindness, Which gave me freedom, traced me to this spot, And saved my life, my wretched life, which still I only use to mourn thy loss, Victoria. Know'st thou, my boy, when her eyes closed forever? Whose hand----

_Caesa._ Her son's--

_Orsi._ (_grasping_ Caesario's _hand_) Was't thine?

_Caesa._ 'Twas mine too raised Yon rustic tomb, and 'twas this cave received her When, desperate at your loss, she fled the court. Here long she sorrowed, here at length she died, Died of a broken heart! Ay weep, my father; For know the king shall pay each tear thou shed'st With drops of blood.

_Orsi._ The king? Boy, name him not. That sound is poison. I was once so happy; Was once so rich--and that one man stole all. My curse be on him!

_Caesa._ Man, thy curse is heard.

_Orsi._ Is heard! What mean'st thou?

_Caesa._ Vengeance! Hark, Orsino-- Soon as my mother died (believed Caesario A young unknown) I sought the court, where chance Gave me from ruffian Moors to save the princess. This made Alfonso mine, and still I've used him To further mine own ends. Joy, joy, my father! My plots are ripe, the king's best troops corrupted, His son, too, through my arts, declared a rebel; And, ere two nights are past, I'll strip the tyrant Both of his throne and life. Rouse then, and aid ----Now, sir, why gaze you thus?

_Orsi._ I fain would doubt it; Fain find some plea--No, no, each look, each feature, And my own heart----'Tis true thou art my son!

_Caesa._ What mean you?

_Orsi._ (_passionately_) Art my son, and yet a villain!

_Caesa._ (_starting_) Villain!

_Orsi._ Destroy Alfonso! What! Alfonso, The wise, the good?

_Caesa._ With thee then was he either? Has he not wronged thee?

_Orsi._ Deeply, boy, most deeply. But in his whole wide kingdom none but me. Look through Castile; see all smile, bloom, and flourish. No peasant sleeps ere he has breathed a blessing On his good king; no thirst of power, false pride, Or martial rage he knows; nor would he shed One drop of subject-blood to buy the title Of a new Mars! E'en broken hearted widows And childless mothers, while they weep the slain, Cursing the wars, confess his cause was just. Such is Alfonso, such the man whose virtues Now fill thy throne, Castile, to bliss thy children! What shows the adverse scale! What find we there? _My_ sufferings, mine alone! And what am _I_, That I should weigh me 'gainst the public welfare? What are my wrongs against a monarch's rights? What is my curse against a nation's blessings?

_Caesa._ Yet hear me.

_Orsi._ I assist your plots! I injure One hair that's nourished with Alfonso's blood! No! The wronged subject hates the ungrateful master; But the world's friend must love the patriot king.

_Caesa._ Amazement! Can it be Orsino speaking? 'Tis some court minion sure, some tool of office, Some threadbare muse pensioned to praise the throne; This cannot be the man whose burning vengeance, Whose fixed aversion----

_Or._ Boy, 'Tis fixed as ever. Alfonso's sight, his name, his very goodness, Forcing my praise, torture my soul to madness. I hate him, hate him; but still own his virtues; And though I hate, Oh bless the good king, Heaven!

_Caesa._ Oh most strange patience! most rare stretch of temper! What! bless the man who thought you treacherous, base, Ungrateful!

_Orsi._ And because he thought me such, (Remembering only what his fault deserves, Forgetting all that's due to mine own honour) Shall I become the wretched thing he thought me? Prove his suspicions just? quit the proud station Where injured Virtue towers and sink me down to His level who oppressed me? Oh, not so! When hostile arms strain every nerve to crush me, Pang follows pang, and wrong to wrong succeeds, Piled like the Alps, each loftier than the last one, To pay those wrongs with good, those pangs with kindness, To raise the foe once fallen, bind his gored breast, And heap, with generous zeal, favours on favours, Till his repentant spirit melts and bleeds To think he ever pained a heart like mine, Such is _my_ hate! such my proud soul's whole object. The only vengeance noble minds should take.

_Caesa._ Farewell, then, since far other hate is mine, And asks for other vengeance. I'll to seek it.

_Orsi._ Stay, youth, and hear me. Ere you quit this spot. Since virtue has no power to chain or awe thee, Swear to forgo thy traitorous schemes, or straight I'll seek the king----

_Caesa._ You dare not: no, you dare not. Nay, start not. I but know my power and use it. Look on these lips and eyes; they are Victoria's. And shall Victoria's lips be sealed forever? And shall Victoria's eyes be closed in death? E'en while you rage, with looks so fond you eye me, They speak, your love will guaranty your silence.

_Orsi._ 'Tis true, too true: but dear and cruel boy, Though threats succeed not, let these tears prevail, Tears for thy dying virtue. Oh look round thee! See to mankind what curses bad kings are, And learn from them the blessings of a good one.

_Caesa._ Father, in vain you urge me. Know I've sworn Alfonso's death. My mother's shade demands it. Who asked that promise, with an oath confirmed. And what she asked I gave.

_Orsi._ Oh! Wherefore did'st thou? Since she required an oath to seal thy promise, Thou shouldst have known thy promise must be wrong. Virtue and truth are in themselves convincing, Nor need the feeble sanction of man's lips; As the sun needs no aid from foreign orbs, Itself a fire-formed world of light and glory. What meant thine oath? What meant those magic words? Save by thy lips to bind thy hand to do What makes each wise head shake, each good heart shudder. Thy impious vow----

_Caesa._ Impious or just, once sworn, To break it sure were shame.

_Orsi._ My son, 'twere virtue, When to perform it were the worst of crimes, 'Twas wrong to swear; be with that wrong contented. A second fault cannot make right the first; And acts of guilt absolve no act of folly.

_Caesa._ Guilt! Then we jar for words. I see but glory Where thou seest guilt: yet call it what thou wilt. I _may_ be guilty, but I _must_ be great.

_Orsi._ A dreadful word!

_Caesa._ A crown, a crown invites me! A glorious crown!

_Orsi._ Glorious! Oh no! True glory Is not to _wear_ a crown but to _deserve_ one. The peasant swain who leads a good man's life, And dies at last a good man's death, obtains In Wisdom's eye wreaths of far brighter splendour Than he whose wanton pride and thirst for empire Make kings his captives, and lay waste a world.

_Caesa._ And is't not glorious then to bless my country By just and gentle ruling; fight her battles; Preserve her laws----

_Orsi._ Thou, thou preserve her laws---- Thou fight her battles! thou--I tell thee, boy, The hand which serves its country should be pure. Ambition, selfish love, vain lust of power Ravage thy head and heart! and would'st thou hold The judgment balance with a hand still red With royal blood? Would'st thou dare speak a penance On guilt, thyself so guilty? Canst thou hope Castile will trust her to thee? God forbid! Mad is that nation, mad past thought of cure, Past chains and dungeons, whips, spare food, and fasting, Who yields the immortal man a patriot's name, And looks in private vice for public virtue. Thou play the patriot's part! Away, away! Who _wounds_ his country is the worst of monsters; But good men only should _presume_ to _serve_ her. Thy guilt once seen----

_Caesa._ And who shall see that guilt When wrapt in purple, and the world's eye dazzled By the o'erpowering blaze a crown emits? What pilgrim, gazing on some awful torrent, Thinks through what roads it passed? Let golden fortune But smile propitious on my daring crimes, And all my crimes are virtues! Mark this, father, The world ne'er holds those guilty who succeed. [_Exit._

_Orsi._ (_alone._) How shall I act? He said within two nights---- Whate'er is done must be done soon--Oh! how, How shall I tread this labyrinth; how contrive To save my king, yet not destroy my son? The princess! Ha! well thought! It shall be so. I'll seek her, and Alfonso's life preserved, At once shall pay her kindness for my freedom, And buy my son's full pardon. Yes, I'll haste, And snatch my sovereign from this gulf of ruin. I, I the Atlas of his tottering throne---- Prosperous I shunned; unhappy, I forgive him; He reigned, I scorned his power; he sinks, I'll save him. [_Exit._

_End of Act III._