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;
461 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?
462 Tor. O there's the utmost malice of my fate,
That I am bound to hate, and born to love!