Tor. O, Pedro, O, Alphonso, pity me!
A grove of pikes,
Whose polished steel from far severely shines,
Are not so dreadful as this beauteous queen.
Alph. Call up your courage timely to your aid,
And, like a lion, pressed upon the toils,
Leap on your hunters. Speak your actions boldly;
There is a time when modest virtue is
Allowed to praise itself.
Ped. Heart! you were hot enough, too hot, but now;
Your fury then boiled upward to a foam;
But since this message came, you sink and settle,
As if cold water had been poured upon you.
Tor. Alas! thou know'st not what it is to love!
When we behold an angel, not to fear,
Is to be impudent: No, I am resolved,
Like a led victim, to my death I'll go,
And, dying, bless the hand, that gave the blow.[Exeunt.
The Scene draws, and shews the Queen sitting in state; Bertran standing next to her; then Teresa, &c. She rises, and comes to the front.
Leonora. [To Bert.]
I blame not you, my lord; my father's will,
Your own deserts, and all my people's voice,
405 Have placed you in the view of sovereign power.
But I would learn the cause, why Torrismond,
Within my palace-walls, within my hearing,
Almost within my sight,—affronts a prince,
Who shortly shall command him.
Bert. He thinks you owe him more than you can pay;
And looks as he were lord of human kind.
Enter Torrismond, Alphonso, Pedro. Torrismond bows low, then looks earnestly on the Queen, and keeps at Distance.
Teresa. Madam, the general.—
Leo. Let me view him well.
My father sent him early to the frontiers;
I have not often seen him; if I did,
He passed unmarked by my unheeding eyes:—
But where's the fierceness, the disdainful pride,
The haughty port, the fiery arrogance?—
By all these marks, this is not, sure, the man.