SCENE II.--_The Palace-Yard. Drums and Trumpets within.

_Enter_ RAYMOND, ALPHONSO, PEDRO, _and their Party._

_Raym._ Now, valiant citizens, the time is come, To show your courage, and your loyalty. You have a prince of Sancho's royal blood, The darling of the heavens, and joy of earth; When he's produced, as soon he shall, among you, Speak, what will you adventure to reseat him Upon his father's throne?

_Omn._ Our lives and fortunes.

_Raym._ What then remains to perfect our success; But o'er the tyrant's guards to force our way?

_Omn._ Lead on, lead on. [_Drums and Trumpets on the other side._

_Enter_ TORRISMOND _and his Party: As they are going to fight, he speaks._

_Tor._ [_To his._] Hold, hold your arms.

_Raym._ [_To his._] Retire.

_Alph._ What means this pause?

_Ped._ Peace; nature works within them. [ALPH. _and_ PED. _go apart._

_Tor._ How comes it, good old man, that we two meet On these harsh terms? thou very reverend rebel; Thou venerable traitor, in whose face And hoary hairs treason is sanctified, And sin's black dye seems blanched by age to virtue.

_Raym._ What treason is it to redeem my king, And to reform the state?

_Tor._ That's a stale cheat; The primitive rebel, Lucifer, first used it, And was the first reformer of the skies.

_Raym._ What, if I see my prince mistake a poison, Call it a cordial,--am I then a traitor, Because I hold his hand, or break the glass?

_Tor._ How darest thou serve thy king against his will?

_Raym._ Because 'tis then the only time to serve him.

_Tor._ I take the blame of all upon myself; Discharge thy weight on me.

_Raym._ O never, never! Why, 'tis to leave a ship, tossed in a tempest, Without the pilot's care.

_Tor._ I'll punish thee; By heaven, I will, as I would punish rebels, Thou stubborn loyal man!

_Raym._ First let me see Her punished, who misleads you from your fame; Then burn me, hack me, hew me into pieces, And I shall die well pleased.

_Tor._ Proclaim my title, To save the effusion of my subjects' blood; and thou shalt still Be as my foster-father near my breast, And next my Leonora.

_Raym._ That word stabs me. You shall be still plain Torrismond with me; The abettor, partner, (if you like that name,) The husband of a tyrant; but no king, Till you deserve that title by your justice.

_Tor._ Then farewell, pity; I will be obeyed.-- [_To the People._] Hear, you mistaken men, whose loyalty Runs headlong into treason: See your prince! In me behold your murdered Sancho's son; Dismiss your arms, and I forgive your crimes.

_Raym._ Believe him not; he raves; his words are loose As heaps of sand, and scattering wide from sense. You see he knows not me, his natural father; But, aiming to possess the usurping queen, So high he's mounted in his airy hopes, That now the wind is got into his head, And turns his brains to frenzy.

_Tor._ Hear me yet; I am--

_Raym._ Fall on, fall on, and hear him not; But spare his person, for his father's sake.

_Ped._ Let me come; if he be mad, I have that shall cure him. There's no surgeon in all Arragon has so much dexterity as I have at breathing of the temple-vein.

_Tor._ My right for me!

_Raym._ Our liberty for us!

_Omn._ Liberty, liberty!

_As they are ready to Fight, enter_ LORENZO _and his Party._

_Lor._ On forfeit of your lives, lay down your arms.

_Alph._ How, rebel, art thou there?

_Lor._ Take your rebel back again, father mine: The beaten party are rebels to the conquerors. I have been at hard-head with your butting citizens; I have routed your herd; I have dispersed them; and now they are retreated quietly, from their extraordinary vocation of fighting in the streets, to their ordinary vocation of cozening in their shops.

_Tor._ [_To_ RAYM.] You see 'tis vain contending with the truth; Acknowledge what I am.

_Raym._ You are my king;--would you would be your own! But, by a fatal fondness, you betray Your fame and glory to the usurper's bed. Enjoy the fruits of blood and parricide, Take your own crown from Leonora's gift, And hug your father's murderer in your arms!

_Enter Queen,_ TERESA, _and Women._

_Alph._ No more; behold the queen.

_Raym._ Behold the basilisk of Torrismond, That kills him with her eyes--I will speak on; My life is of no farther use to me: I would have chaffered it before for vengeance; Now let it go for failing.

_Tor._ My heart sinks in me while I hear him speak, And every slackened fibre drops its hold, Like nature letting down the springs of life; So much the name of father awes me still-- [_Aside._ Send off the crowd; for you, now I have conquered, I can hear with honour your demands.

_Lor._ [_To_ ALPH.] Now, sir, who proves the traitor? My conscience is true to me; it always whispers right, when I have my regiment to back it. [_Exeunt_ LOR. ALPH. PED. &c.

_Tor._ O Leonora, what can love do more? I have opposed your ill fate to the utmost; Combated heaven and earth to keep you mine; And yet at last that tyrant justice! Oh--

_Leo._ 'Tis past, 'tis past, and love is ours no more; Yet I complain not of the powers above; They made me a miser's feast of happiness, And could not furnish out another meal. Now, by yon stars, by heaven, and earth, and men, By all my foes at once, I swear, my Torrismond, That to have had you mine for one short day, Has cancelled half my mighty sum of woes! Say but you hate me not.

_Tor._ I cannot hate you.

_Raym._ Can you not? say that once more, That all the saints may witness it against you.

_Leo._ Cruel Raymond! Can he not punish me, but he must hate? O, 'tis not justice, but a brutal rage, Which hates the offender's person with his crimes! I have enough to overwhelm one woman, To lose a crown and lover in a day: Let pity lend a tear, when rigour strikes.

_Raym._ Then, then you should have thought of tears and pity, When virtue, majesty, and hoary age, Pleaded for Sancho's life.

_Leo._ My future days shall be one whole contrition: A chapel will I build, with large endowment, Where every day an hundred aged men Shall all hold up their withered hands to heaven, To pardon Sancho's death.

_Tor._ See, Raymond, see; she makes a large amends: Sancho is dead; no punishment of her Can raise his cold stiff limbs from the dark grave; Nor can his blessed soul look down from heaven, Or break the eternal sabbath of his rest, To see, with joy, her miseries on earth.

_Raym._ Heaven may forgive a crime to penitence, For heaven can judge if penitence be true; But man, who knows not hearts, should make examples Which, like a warning piece, must be shot off, To fright the rest from crimes.

_Leo._ Had I but known that Sancho was his father, I would have poured a deluge of my blood, To save one drop of his.

_Tor._ Mark that, inexorable Raymond, mark! 'Twas fatal ignorance, that caused his death.

_Raym._ What! if she did not know he was your father, She knew he was a man, the best of men; Heaven's image double-stamped, as man and king.

_Leo._ He was, he was, even more than you can say; But yet--

_Raym._ But yet you barbarously murdered him.

_Leo._ He will not hear me out!

_Tor._ Was ever criminal forbid to plead? Curb your ill-mannered zeal.

_Raym._ Sing to him, syren; For I shall stop my ears: Now mince the sin, And mollify damnation with a phrase; Say, you consented not to Sancho's death, But barely not forbade it.

_Leo._ Hard-hearted man, I yield my guilty cause; But all my guilt was caused by too much love. Had I, for jealousy of empire, sought Good Sancho's death, Sancho had died before. 'Twas always in my power to take his life; But interest never could my conscience blind, Till love had cast a mist before my eyes, And made me think his death the only means Which could secure my throne to Torrismond.

_Tor._ Never was fatal mischief meant so kind, For all she gave has taken all away. Malicious powers! is this to be restored? 'Tis to be worse deposed than Sancho was.

_Raym._ Heaven has restored you, you depose yourself. Oh, when young kings begin with scorn of justice, They make an omen to their after reign, And blot their annals in the foremost page.

_Tor._ No more; lest you be made the first example, To show how I can punish.

_Raym._ Once again: Let her be made your father's sacrifice, And after make me hers.

_Tor._ Condemn a wife! That were to atone for parricide with murder.

_Raym._ Then let her be divorced: we'll be content With that poor scanty justice; let her part.

_Tor._ Divorce! that's worse than death, 'tis death of love.

_Leo._ The soul and body part not with such pain, As I from you; but yet 'tis just, my lord: I am the accurst of heaven, the hate of earth, Your subjects' detestation, and your ruin; And therefore fix this doom upon myself.

_Tor._ Heaven! Can you wish it, to be mine no more?

_Leo._ Yes, I can wish it, as the dearest proof, And last, that I can make you of my love. To leave you blest, I would be more accurst Than death can make me; for death ends our woes, And the kind grave shuts up the mournful scene: But I would live without you, to be wretched long; And hoard up every moment of my life, To lengthen out the payment of my tears, Till even fierce Raymond, at the last, shall say,-- Now let her die, for she has grieved enough.

_Tor._ Hear this, hear this, thou tribune of the people! Thou zealous, public blood-hound, hear, and melt!

_Raym._ [_Aside._] I could cry now; my eyes grow womanish, But yet my heart holds out.

_Leo._ Some solitary cloister will I chuse, And there with holy virgins live immured: Coarse my attire, and short shall be my sleep, Broke by the melancholy midnight bell. Now, Raymond, now be satisfied at last: Fasting and tears, and penitence and prayer, Shall do dead Sancho justice every hour.

_Raym._ [_Aside._] By your leave, manhood! [_Wipes his eyes._

_Tor._ He weeps! now he is vanquished.

_Raym._ No: 'tis a salt rheum, that scalds my eyes.

_Leo._ If he were vanquished, I am still unconquered. I'll leave you in the height of all my love, Even when my heart is beating out its way, And struggles to you most. Farewell, a last farewell, my dear, dear lord! Remember me!--speak, Raymond, will you let him? Shall he remember Leonora's love, And shed a parting tear to her misfortunes?

_Raym._ [_Almost crying._] Yes, yes, he shall; pray go.

_Tor._ Now, by my soul, she shall not go: why, Raymond, Her every tear is worth a father's life. Come to my arms, come, my fair penitent! Let us not think what future ills may fall. But drink deep draughts of love, and lose them all. [_Exeunt_ TOR. _with the Queen._

_Raym._ No matter yet, he has my hook within him. Now let him frisk and flounce, and run and roll, And think to break his hold; he toils in vain. This love, the bait he gorged so greedily, Will make him sick, and then I have him sure.

_Enter_ ALPHONSO _and_ PEDRO.

_Alph._ Brother, there's news from Bertran; he desires Admittance to the king, and cries aloud,-- This day shall end our fears of civil war!-- For his safe conduct he entreats your presence, And begs you would be speedy.

_Raym._ Though I loath The traitor's sight, I'll go. Attend us here. [_Exit._

_Enter_ GOMEZ, ELVIRA, DOMINICK, _with Officers, to make the Stage as full as possible._

_Ped._ Why, how now, Gomez? what mak'st thou here, with a whole brotherhood of city-bailiffs? Why, thou look'st like Adam in Paradise, with his guard of beasts about him.

_Gom._ Ay, and a man had need of them, Don Pedro; for here are the two old seducers, a wife and priest,--that's Eve and the serpent,--at my elbow.

_Dom._ Take notice how uncharitably he talks of churchmen.

_Gom._ Indeed, you are a charitable belswagger! My wife cried out,-- "Fire, fire!" and you brought out your church-buckets, and called for engines to play against it.

_Alph._ I am sorry you are come hither to accuse your wife; her education has been virtuous, her nature mild and easy.

_Gom._ Yes! she's easy, with a vengeance; there's a certain colonel has found her so.

_Alph._ She came a spotless virgin to your bed.

_Gom._ And she's a spotless virgin still for me--she's never the worse for my wearing, I'll take my oath on't. I have lived with her with all the innocence of a man of threescore, like a peaceable bed-fellow as I am.

_Elv._ Indeed, sir, I have no reason to complain of him for disturbing of my sleep.

_Dom._ A fine commendation you have given yourself; the church did not marry you for that.

_Ped._ Come, come, your grievances, your grievances.

_Dom._ Why, noble sir, I'll tell you.

_Gom._ Peace, friar! and let me speak first. I am the plaintiff. Sure you think you are in the pulpit, where you preach by hours.

_Dom._ And you edify by minutes.

_Gom._ Where you make doctrines for the people, and uses and applications for yourselves.

_Ped._ Gomez, give way to the old gentleman in black.

_Gom._ No! the t'other old gentleman in black shall take me if I do; I will speak first!--Nay, I will, friar, for all your _verbum sacerdotis_. I'll speak truth in few words, and then you may come afterwards and lie by the clock as you use to do.--For, let me tell you, gentlemen, he shall lie and forswear himself with any friar in all Spain; that's a bold word now.--

_Dom._ Let him alone; let him alone; I shall fetch him back with a _circum-bendibus_, I warrant him.

_Alph._ Well, what have you to say against your wife, Gomez?

_Gom._ Why, I say, in the first place, that I and all men are married for our sins, and that our wives are a judgment; that a batchelor-cobler is a happier man than a prince in wedlock; that we are all visited with a household plague, and, _Lord have mercy upon us_ should be written on all our doors[2].

_Dom._ Now he reviles marriage, which is one of the seven blessed sacraments.

_Gom._ 'Tis liker one of the seven deadly sins: but make your best on't, I care not; 'tis but binding a man neck and heels, for all that. But, as for my wife, that crocodile of Nilus, she has wickedly and traitorously conspired the cuckoldom of me, her anointed sovereign lord; and, with the help of the aforesaid friar, whom heaven confound, and with the limbs of one colonel Hernando, cuckold-maker of this city, devilishly contrived to steal herself away, and under her arm feloniously to bear one casket of diamonds, pearls, and other jewels, to the value of 30,000 pistoles.--Guilty, or not guilty? how sayest thou, culprit?

_Dom._ False and scandalous! Give me the book. I'll take my corporal oath point-blank against every particular of this charge.

_Elv._ And so will I.

_Dom._ As I was walking in the streets, telling my beads, and praying to myself, according to my usual custom, I heard a foul out-cry before Gomez' portal; and his wife, my penitent, making doleful lamentations: thereupon, making what haste my limbs would suffer me, that are crippled with often kneeling, I saw him spurning and listing her most unmercifully; whereupon, using Christian arguments with him to desist, he fell violently upon me, without respect to my sacerdotal orders, pushed me from him, and turned me about with a finger and a thumb, just as a man would set up a top. Mercy! quoth I.--Damme! quoth he;--and still continued labouring me, until a good-minded colonel came by, whom, as heaven shall save me, I had never seen before.

_Gom._ O Lord! O Lord!

_Dom._ Ay, and O lady! O lady too!--I redouble my oath, I had never seen him. Well, this noble colonel, like a true gentleman, was for taking the weaker part, you may be sure; whereupon this Gomez flew upon him like a dragon, got him down, the devil being strong in him, and gave him bastinado upon bastinado, and buffet upon buffet, which the poor meek colonel, being prostrate, suffered with a most Christian patience.

_Gom._ Who? he meek? I'm sure I quake at the very thought of him; why, he's as fierce as Rhodomont; he made assault and battery upon my person, beat me into all the colours of the rainbow; and every word this abominable priest has uttered is as false as the Alcoran. But if you want a thorough-paced liar, that will swear through thick and thin, commend me to a friar.

_Enter_ LORENZO, _who comes behind the Company, and stands at his Fathers back unseen, over-against_ GOMEZ.

_Lor._ How now! What's here to do? my cause a trying, as I live, and that before my own father.--Now fourscore take him for an old bawdy magistrate, that stands like the picture of madam Justice, with a pair of scales in his hand, to weigh lechery by ounces! [_Aside._

_Alph._ Well--but all this while, who is this colonel Hernando?

_Gom._ He's the first begotten of Beelzebub, with a face as terrible as Demogorgon. [LORENZO _peeps over_ ALPHONSO'S _Head, and stares at_ GOMEZ. No! I lie, I lie. He's a very proper handsome fellow! well proportioned, and clean shaped, with a face like a cherubin.

_Ped._ What, backward and forward, Gomez! dost thou hunt counter?

_Alph._ Had this colonel any former design upon your wife? for, if that be proved, you shall have justice.

_Gom._ [_Aside._] Now I dare speak,--let him look as dreadfully as he will.--I say, sir, and I will prove it, that he had a lewd design upon her body, and attempted to corrupt her honesty. [LORENZO _lifts up his fist clenched at him._ I confess my wife was as willing--as himself; and, I believe, 'twas she corrupted him; for I have known him formerly a very civil and modest person.

_Elv._ You see, sir, he contradicts himself at every word; he's plainly mad.

_Alph._ Speak boldly, man! and say what thou wilt stand by: did he strike thee?

_Gom._ I will speak boldly; he struck me on the face before my own threshold, that the very walls cried shame to him. [LORENZO _holds up again._ 'Tis true, I gave him provocation, for the man's as peaceable a gentleman as any is in all Spain.

_Dom._ Now the truth comes out, in spite of him.

_Ped._ I believe the friar has bewitched him.

_Alph._ For my part, I see no wrong that has been offered him.

_Gom._ How? no wrong? why, he ravished me, with the help of two soldiers, carried me away _vi et armis,_ and would put me into a plot against government. [LORENZO _holds up again._ I confess, I never could endure the government, because it was tyrannical; but my sides and shoulders are black and blue, as I can strip and show the marks of them. [LORENZO _again._ But that might happen, too, by a fall that I got yesterday upon the pebbles. [_All laugh._

_Dom._ Fresh straw, and a dark chamber; a most manifest judgment! there never comes better of railing against the church.

_Gom._ Why, what will you have me say? I think you'll make me mad: truth has been at my tongue's end this half hour, and I have not power to bring it out, for fear of this bloody-minded colonel.

_Alph._ What colonel?

_Gom._ Why, my colonel--I mean my wife's colonel, that appears there to me like my _malus genius_, terrifies me.

_Alph._ [_Turning._] Now you are mad indeed, Gomez; this is my son Lorenzo.

_Gom._ How? your son Lorenzo! it is impossible.

_Alph._ As true as your wife Elvira is my daughter.

_Lor._ What, have I taken all this pains about a sister?

_Gom._ No, you have taken some about me; I am sure, if you are her brother, my sides can show the tokens of our alliance.

_Alph._ to _Lor._ You know I put your sister into a nunnery, with a strict command not to see you, for fear you should have wrought upon her to have taken the habit, which was never my intention; and consequently, I married her without your knowledge, that it might not be in your power to prevent it.

_Elv._ You see, brother, I had a natural affection to you.

_Lor._ What a delicious harlot have I lost! Now, pox upon me, for being so near a-kin to thee!

_Elv._ However, we are both beholden to friar Dominick; the church is an indulgent mother, she never fails to do her part.

_Dom._ Heavens! what will become of me?

_Gom._ Why, you are not like to trouble heaven; those fat guts were never made for mounting.

_Lor._ I shall make bold to disburden him of my hundred pistoles, to make him the lighter for his journey: indeed, 'tis partly out of conscience, that I may not be accessory to his breaking his vow of poverty.

_Alph._ I have no secular power to reward the pains you have taken with my daughter; but I shall do it by proxy, friar: your bishop's my friend, and is too honest to let such as you infect a cloister.

_Gom._ Ay, do, father-in-law, let him be stript of his habit, and disordered.--I would fain see him walk in querpo, like a cased rabbit, without his holy fur upon his back, that the world may once behold the inside of a friar.

_Dom._ Farewell, kind gentlemen; I give you all my blessing before I go.--May your sisters, wives, and daughters, be so naturally lewd, that they may have no occasion for a devil to tempt, or a friar to pimp for them. [_Exeunt, with a rabble pushing him._

_Enter_ TORRISMOND, LEONORA, BERTRAN, RAYMOND, TERESA, &c.

_Tor._ He lives! he lives! my royal father lives! Let every one partake the general joy. Some angel with a golden trumpet sound, King Sancho lives! and let the echoing skies From pole to pole resound, king Sancho lives!-- Bertran, oh! no more my foe, but brother; One act like this blots out a thousand crimes.

_Bert._ Bad men, when 'tis their interest, may do good. I must confess, I counselled Sancho's murder; And urged the queen by specious arguments: But, still suspecting that her love was changed, I spread abroad the rumour of his death, To sound the very soul of her designs. The event, you know, was answering to my fears; She threw the odium of the fact on me, And publicly avowed her love to you.

_Raym._ Heaven guided all, to save the innocent.

_Bert._ I plead no merit, but a bare forgiveness.

_Tor._ Not only that, but favour. Sancho's life, Whether by virtue or design preserved, Claims all within my power.

_Leo._ My prayers are heard; And I have nothing farther to desire, But Sancho's leave to authorise our marriage.

_Tor._ Oh! fear not him! pity and he are one; So merciful a king did never live; Loth to revenge, and easy to forgive. But let the bold conspirator beware, For heaven makes princes its peculiar care. [_Exeunt._

Footnotes: 1. Alluding to the common superstition, that the continuance of the favours of fairies depends upon the receiver's secrecy:--"This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so: up with it, keep it close; home, home, the nearest way. We are lucky, boy, and, to be so still, requires nothing but secrecy;" _Winter's Tale._

2. A red cross, with the words, "Lord have mercy upon us," was placed, during the great plague, upon the houses visited by the disease.

EPILOGUE.

BY A FRIEND OF THE AUTHOR'S.

There's none, I'm sure, who is a friend to love, But will our Friar's character approve: The ablest spark among you sometimes needs Such pious help, for charitable deeds. Our church, alas! (as Rome objects) does want These ghostly comforts for the falling saint: This gains them their whore-converts, and may be One reason of the growth of popery. So Mahomet's religion came in fashion, By the large leave it gave to fornication. Fear not the guilt, if you can pay for't well; There is no Dives in the Roman Hell: Gold opens the strait gate, and lets him in; But want of money is a mortal sin. For all besides you may discount to heaven, And drop a bead to keep the tallies even. How are men cozened still with shows of good! The bawd's best mask is the grave friar's hood; Though vice no more a clergyman displeases, Than doctors can be thought to hate diseases. 'Tis by your living ill, that they live well, By your debauches, their fat paunches swell. 'Tis a mock-war between the priest and devil; When they think fit, they can be very civil. As some, who did French counsels most advance, To blind the world, have railed in print at France, Thus do the clergy at your vices bawl, That with more ease they may engross them all. By damning yours, they do their own maintain; A churchman's godliness is always gain: Hence to their prince they will superior be; And civil treason grows church loyalty. They boast the gift of heaven is in their power; Well may they give the god, they can devour! Still to the sick and dead their claims they lay; For 'tis on carrion that the vermin prey. Nor have they less dominion on our life, They trot the husband, and they pace the wife. Rouse up, you cuckolds of the northern climes, And learn from Sweden to prevent such crimes. Unman the Friar, and leave the holy drone To hum in his forsaken hive alone; He'll work no honey, when his sting is gone. Your wives and daughters soon will leave the cells, When they have lost the sound of Aaron's bells.

* * * * *

END OF THE SIXTH VOLUME.

Edinburgh,

Printed by J. Ballantyne & Co.