SCENE II.--_The Court.

_Enter_ RAYMOND, ALPHONSO, _and_ PEDRO.

_Raym._ Are these, are these, ye powers, the promised joys, With which I flattered my long, tedious absence, To find, at my return, my master murdered? O, that I could but weep, to vent my passion! But this dry sorrow burns up all my tears.

_Alph._ Mourn inward, brother; 'tis observed at court, Who weeps, and who wears black; and your return Will fix all eyes on every act of yours, To see how you resent King Sancho's death.

_Raym._ What generous man can live with that constraint Upon his soul, to bear, much less to flatter, A court like this! Can I sooth tyranny? Seem pleased to see my royal master murdered, His crown usurped, a distaff in the throne, A council made of such as dare not speak, And could not, if they durst; whence honest men Banish themselves, for shame of being there: A government, that, knowing not true wisdom, Is scorned abroad, and lives on tricks at home?

_Alph._ Virtue must be thrown off; 'tis a coarse garment, Too heavy for the sun-shine of a court.

_Raym._ Well then, I will dissemble, for an end So great, so pious, as a just revenge: You'll join with me?

_Alph._ No honest man but must.

_Ped._ What title has this queen, but lawless force? And force must pull her down.

_Alph._ Truth is, I pity Leonora's case; Forced, for her safety, to commit a crime, Which most her soul abhors.

_Raym._ All she has done, or e'er can do, of good, This one black deed has damned.

_Ped,_ You'll hardly gain your son to our design.

_Raym._ Your reason for't?

_Ped._ I want time to unriddle it: Put on your t'other face, the queen approaches.

_Enter_ LEONORA, BERTRAN, _and Attendants._

_Raym._ And that accursed Bertran Stalks close behind her, like a witch's fiend, Pressing to be employed; stand, and observe them.

_Leo._ to _Bert._ Buried in private, and so suddenly! It crosses my design, which was to allow The rites of funeral fitting his degree, With all the pomp of mourning.

_Bert._ It was not safe: Objects of pity, when the cause is new, Would work too fiercely on the giddy crowd: Had Cæsar's body never been exposed, Brutus had gained his cause.

_Leo._ Then, was he loved?

_Bert._ O, never man so much, for saint-like goodness.

_Ped._ Had bad men feared him, but as good men loved him, He had not yet been sainted. [_Aside._

_Leo._ I wonder how the people bear his death.

_Bert._ Some discontents there are; some idle murmurs.

_Ped._ How, idle murmurs! Let me plainly speak: The doors are all shut up; the wealthier sort, With arms across, and hats upon their eyes, Walk to and fro before their silent shops; Whole droves of lenders crowd the bankers' doors, To call in money; those, who have none, mark Where money goes; for when they rise, 'tis plunder: The rabble gather round the man of news, And listen with their mouths; Some tell, some hear, some judge of news, some make it; And he, who lies most loud, is most believed.

_Leo._ This may be dangerous.

_Raym._ Pray heaven it may! [_Aside._

_Bert._ If one of you must fall, Self-preservation is the first of laws; And if, when subjects are oppressed by kings, They justify rebellion by that law, As well may monarchs turn the edge of right To cut for them, when self-defence requires it.

_Leo._ You place such arbitrary power in kings, That I much fear, if I should make you one, You'll make yourself a tyrant; let these know By what authority you did this act.

_Bert._ You much surprise me, to demand that question: But, since truth must be told, 'twas by your own.

_Leo._ Produce it; or, by heaven, your head shall answer The forfeit of your tongue.

_Raym._ Brave mischief towards. [_Aside._

_Bert._ You bade me.

_Leo._ When, and where?

_Bert._ No, I confess, you bade me not in words; The dial spoke not, but it made shrewd signs, And pointed full upon the stroke of murder: Yet this you said, You were a woman, ignorant and weak, So left it to my care.

_Leo._ What, if I said, I was a woman, ignorant and weak, Were you to take the advantage of my sex, And play the devil to tempt me? You contrived, You urged, you drove me headlong to your toils; And if, much tired, and frighted more, I paused, Were you to make my doubts your own commission?

_Bert._ This 'tis, to serve a prince too faithfully; Who, free from laws himself, will have that done, Which, not performed, brings us to sure disgrace; And, if performed, to ruin.

_Leo._ This 'tis, to counsel things that are unjust; First, to debauch a king to break his laws, Which are his safety, and then seek protection From him you have endangered; but, just heaven, When sins are judged, will damn the tempting devil, More deep than those he tempted.

_Bert._ If princes not protect their ministers, What man will dare to serve them?

_Leo._ None will dare To serve them ill, when they are left to laws; But, when a counsellor, to save himself, Would lay miscarriages upon his prince, Exposing him to public rage and hate; O, 'tis an act as infamously base, As, should a common soldier sculk behind, And thrust his general in the front of war: It shews, he only served himself before, And had no sense of honour, country, king, But centered on himself, and used his master, As guardians do their wards, with shews of care, But with intent to sell the public safety, And pocket up his prince.

_Ped._ Well said, i'faith; This speech is e'en too good for an usurper. [_Aside._

_Bert._ I see for whom I must be sacrificed; And, had I not been sotted with my zeal, I might have found it sooner.

_Leo._ From my sight! The prince, who bears an insolence like this, Is such an image of the powers above, As is the statue of the thundering god, Whose bolts the boys may play with.

_Bert._ Unrevenged I will not fall, nor single. [_Exit._

_Leo._ Welcome, welcome! [_To_ RAYM. _who kisses her hand._ I saw you not before: One honest lord Is hid with ease among a crowd of courtiers. How can I be too grateful to the father Of such a son as Torrismond?

_Raym._ His actions were but duty.

_Leo._ Yet, my lord, All have not paid that debt, like noble Torrismond. You hear, how Bertran brands me with a crime, Of which, your son can witness, I am free. I sent to stop the murder, but too late; For crimes are swift, but penitence is slow: The bloody Bertran, diligent in ill, Flew to prevent the soft returns of pity.

_Raym._ O cursed haste, of making sure of sin!-- Can you forgive the traitor?

_Leo._ Never, never: 'Tis written here in characters so deep, That seven years hence, ('till then should I not meet him,) And in the temple then, I'll drag him thence, Even from the holy altar to the block.

_Raym._ She's fired, as I would wish her; aid me, justice, [_Aside._ As all my ends are thine, to gain this point, And ruin both at once.--It wounds, indeed, [_To her._ To bear affronts, too great to be forgiven, And not have power to punish; yet one way There is to ruin Bertran.

_Leo._ O, there's none; Except an host from heaven can make such haste To save my crown, as he will do to seize it. You saw, he came surrounded with his friends, And knew, besides, our army was removed To quarters too remote for sudden use.

_Raym._ Yet you may give commission To some bold man, whose loyalty you trust, And let him raise the train-bands of the city.

_Leo._ Gross feeders, lion talkers, lamb-like fighters.

_Raym._ You do not know the virtues of your city, What pushing force they have; some popular chief, More noisy than the rest, but cries halloo, And, in a trice, the bellowing herd come out; The gates are barred, the ways are barricadoed, And _One and all's_ the word; true cocks o'the game, That never ask, for what, or whom, they fight; But turn them out, and shew them but a foe, Cry--_Liberty!_ and that's a cause of quarrel.

_Leo._ There may be danger in that boisterous rout: Who knows, when fires are kindled for my foes, But some new blast of wind may turn those flames Against my palace-walls?

_Raym._ But still their chief Must be some one, whose loyalty you trust.

_Leo._ And who more proper for that trust than you, Whose interests, though unknown to you, are mine? Alphonso, Pedro, haste to raise the rabble; He shall appear to head them.

_Raym._ [_Aside to_ ALPH. _and_ PED.] First sieze Bertran, And then insinuate to them, that I bring Their lawful prince to place upon the throne.

_Alph._ Our lawful prince!

_Raym._ Fear not; I can produce him.

_Ped._ [_To_ ALPH.] Now we want your son Lorenzo: what a mighty faction Would he make for us of the city-wives, With,--Oh, dear husband, my sweet honey husband, Wont you be for the colonel? if you love me, Be for the colonel; Oh, he's the finest man! [_Exeunt_ ALPH. _and_ PED.

_Raym._ So, now we have a plot behind the plot. She thinks, she's in the depth of my design, And that 'tis all for her; but time shall show, She only lives to help me ruin others, And last, to fall herself. [_Aside._

_Leo._ Now, to you, Raymond: can you guess no reason Why I repose such confidence in you? You needs must think, There's some more powerful cause than loyalty: Will you not speak, to save a lady's blush? Need I inform you, 'tis for Torrismond, That all this grace is shown?

_Raym._ By all the powers, worse, worse than what I feared! [_Aside._

_Leo._ And yet, what need I blush at such a choice? I love a man whom I am proud to love, And am well pleased my inclination gives What gratitude would force. O pardon me; I ne'er was covetous of wealth before; Yet think so vast a treasure as your son, Too great for any private man's possession; And him too rich a jewel, to be set In vulgar metal, or for vulgar use.

_Raym._ Arm me with patience, heaven!

_Leo._ How, patience, Raymond? What exercise of patience have you here? What find you in my crown to be contemned; Or in my person loathed? Have I, a queen, Past by my fellow-rulers of the world, Whose vying crowns lay glittering in my way, As if the world were paved with diadems? Have I refused their blood, to mix with yours, And raise new kings from so obscure a race, Fate scarce knew where to find them, when I called? Have I heaped on my person, crown, and state, To load the scale, and weighed myself with earth, For you to spurn the balance?

_Raym._ Bate the last, and 'tis what I would say: Can I, can any loyal subject, see With patience, such a stoop from sovereignty, An ocean poured upon a narrow brook? My zeal for you must lay the father by, And plead my country's cause against my son. What though his heart be great, his actions gallant, He wants a crown to poise against a crown, Birth to match birth, and power to balance power.

_Leo._ All these I have, and these I can bestow; But he brings worth and virtue to my bed; And virtue is the wealth which tyrants want: I stand in need of one, whose glories may Redeem my crimes, ally me to his fame, Dispel the factions of my foes on earth, Disarm the justice of the powers above.

_Raym._ The people never will endure this choice.

_Leo._ If I endure it, what imports it you? Go, raise the ministers of my revenge, Guide with your breath this whirling tempest round, And see its fury fall where I design. At last a time for just revenge is given; Revenge, the darling attribute of heaven: But man, unlike his Maker, bears too long; Still more exposed, the more he pardons wrong; Great in forgiving, and in suffering brave; To be a saint, he makes himself a slave. [_Exit Queen._

_Raym._ [_Solus._] Marriage with Torrismond! it must not be, By heaven, it must not be! or, if it be, Law, justice, honour, bid farewell to earth, For heaven leaves all to tyrants.

_Enter_ TORRISMOND, _who kneels to him._

_Tor._ O, very welcome, sir! But doubly now! You come in such a time, As if propitious fortune took a care, To swell my tide of joys to their full height, And leave me nothing farther to desire.

_Raym._ I hope, I come in time, if not to make, At least to save your fortune and your honour. Take heed you steer your vessel right, my son; This calm of heaven, this mermaid's melody, Into an unseen whirlpool draws you fast, And, in a moment, sinks you.

_Tor._ Fortune cannot, And fate can scarce; I've made the port already, And laugh securely at the lazy storm, That wanted wings to reach me in the deep. Your pardon, sir; my duty calls me hence; I go to find my queen, my earthly goddess, To whom I owe my hopes, my life, my love.

_Raym._ You owe her more, perhaps, than you imagine; Stay, I command you stay, and hear me first. This hour's the very crisis of your fate, Your good or ill, your infamy or fame, And all the colour of your life, depends On this important now.

_Tor._ I see no danger; The city, army, court, espouse my cause, And, more than all, the queen, with public favour, Indulges my pretensions to her love.

_Raym._ Nay, if possessing her can make you happy, 'Tis granted, nothing hinders your design.

_Tor._ If she can make me blest? she only can; Empire, and wealth, and all she brings beside, Are but the train and trappings of her love: The sweetest, kindest, truest of her sex, In whose possession years roll round on years, And joys, in circles, meet new joys again; Kisses, embraces, languishing, and death, Still from each other to each other move, To crown the various seasons of our love; And doubt you if such love can make me happy?

_Raym._ Yes; for, I think, you love your honour more.

_Tor._ And what can shock my honour in a queen?

_Raym._ A tyrant, an usurper?

_Tor._ Grant she be; When from the conqueror we hold our lives, We yield ourselves his subjects from that hour; For mutual benefits make mutual ties.

_Raym._ Why, can you think I owe a thief my life, Because he took it not by lawless force? What, if he did not all the ill he could? Am I obliged by that to assist his rapines, And to maintain his murders?

_Tor._ Not to maintain, but bear them unrevenged. Kings' titles commonly begin by force, Which time wears off, and mellows into right; So power, which, in one age, is tyranny, Is ripened, in the next, to true succession: She's in possession.

_Raym._ So diseases are: Should not a lingering fever be removed, Because it long has raged within my blood? Do I rebel, when I would thrust it out? What, shall I think the world was made for one, And men are born for kings, as beasts for men, Not for protection, but to be devoured? Mark those, who dote on arbitrary power, And you shall find them either hot-brained youth, Or needy bankrupts, servile in their greatness, And slaves to some, to lord it o'er the rest. O baseness, to support a tyrant throne, And crush your freeborn brethren of the world! Nay, to become a part of usurpation; To espouse the tyrant's person and her crimes, And, on a tyrant, get a race of tyrants, To be your country's curse in after ages.

_Tor._ I see no crime in her whom I adore, Or, if I do, her beauty makes it none: Look on me as a man abandoned o'er To an eternal lethargy of love; To pull, and pinch, and wound me, cannot cure, And but disturb the quiet of my death.

_Raym._ O virtue, virtue! what art thou become, That man should leave thee for that toy, a woman, Made from the dross and refuse of a man! Heaven took him, sleeping, when he made her too; Had man been waking, he had ne'er consented. Now, son, suppose Some brave conspiracy were ready formed, To punish tyrants, and redeem the land, Could you so far belie your country's hope, As not to head the party?

_Tor._ How could my hand rebel against my heart?

_Raym._ How could your heart rebel against your reason?

_Tor._ No honour bids me fight against myself; The royal family is all extinct, And she, who reigns, bestows her crown on me: So must I be ungrateful to the living, To be but vainly pious to the dead, While you defraud your offspring of their fate.

_Raym._ Mark who defraud their offspring, you or I? For know, there yet survives the lawful heir Of Sancho's blood, whom when I shall produce, I rest assured to see you pale with fear, And trembling at his name.

_Tor._ He must be more than man, who makes me tremble. I dare him to the field, with all the odds Of justice on his side, against my tyrant: Produce your lawful prince, and you shall see How brave a rebel love has made your son.

_Raym._ Read that; 'tis with the royal signet signed, And given me, by the king, when time should serve, To be perused by you.

_Tor._ [_Reads._] _I, the king. My youngest and alone surviving son, Reported dead, to escape rebellious rage, Till happier times shall call his courage forth, To break my fetters, or revenge my fate, I will that Raymond educate as his, And call him Torrismond--_ If I am he, that son, that Torrismond, The world contains not so forlorn a wretch! Let never man believe he can be happy! For, when I thought my fortune most secure, One fatal moment tears me from my joys; And when two hearts were joined by mutual love, The sword of justice cuts upon the knot, And severs them for ever.

_Raym._ True, it must.

_Tor._ O, cruel man, to tell me that it must! If you have any pity in your breast, Redeem me from this labyrinth of fate, And plunge me in my first obscurity. The secret is alone between us two; And, though you would not hide me from myself, O, yet be kind, conceal me from the world, And be my father still!

_Raym._ Your lot's too glorious, and the proof's too plain. Now, in the name of honour, sir, I beg you,-- Since I must use authority no more,-- On these old knees, I beg you, ere I die, That I may see your father's death revenged.

_Tor._ Why, 'tis the only business of my life; My order's issued to recall the army, And Bertran's death's resolved.

_Raym._ And not the queen's? O, she's the chief offender! Shall justice turn her edge within your hand? No, if she 'scape, you are yourself the tyrant, And murderer of your father.

_Tor._ Cruel fates! To what have you reserved me?

_Raym._ Why that sigh?

_Tor._ Since you must know,--but break, O break, my heart, Before I tell my fatal story out!-- The usurper of my throne, my house's ruin! The murderer of my father,--is my wife!

_Raym._ O horror, horror!--After this alliance, Let tigers match with hinds, and wolves with sheep, And every creature couple with his foe. How vainly man designs, when heaven opposes! I bred you up to arms, raised you to power, Permitted you to fight for this usurper, Indeed to save a crown, not hers, but yours, All to make sure the vengeance of this day, Which even this day has ruined. One more question Let me but ask, and I have done for ever;-- Do you yet love the cause of all your woes, Or is she grown, as sure she ought to be, More odious to your sight than toads and adders?

_Tor._ O there's the utmost malice of my fate, That I am bound to hate, and born to love!

_Raym._ No more!--Farewell, my much lamented king!-- I dare not trust him with himself so far, To own him to the people as their king, Before their rage has finished my designs On Bertran and the queen; but in despite, Even of himself, I'll save him. [_Aside and exit._

_Tor._ 'Tis but a moment since I have been king, And weary on't already; I'm a lover, And loved, possess,--yet all these make me wretched; And heaven has given me blessings for a curse. With what a load of vengeance am I prest, Yet, never, never, can I hope for rest; For when my heavy burden I remove, The weight falls down, and crushes her I love. [_Exit._