[Snatches a crucifix from the wall, and thrusts it into Don Silvio's unwilling hands.
This bleeding image. See this crown of thorns,
These nails, that side thrust; and then learn how He
Suffered and died for us. Canst thou not bear
One little pang an 't be the will of Heaven?
What is thy grief to His, who suffered more
Than mortal man e'er suffered? Father, pray
God will not desert those who trust in Him.
D. Sil. Nay, thou art young and hopeful. I am old.
Inez. Kneel, father, kneel; and look not so downcast.
Behold the blessed Virgin Mary, pierced
And sorrowing for our sins. Come, father, kneel.
Do as I do, and throw thyself before
This blessed image, and repeat these words.
[Throws herself on the prie-dieu, and clasps her hands together in front of the picture of our Lady of Pain. Don Silvio still standing.
Oh! Holy Virgin, Mother of our Lord;
Chosen of God, immaculate, Divine;
Thou, who hast promised aye to intercede
With thy dear Son, the living God of Heaven
For us poor mortals when oppressed with woe,
From that high heaven where thou sittest enthroned
'Midst glorious angels, mercifully look down
Upon thy humble votaries, who groan
'Neath the oppression of a tyrant world.
Oh! thou who never turnest a deaf ear
Unto a suppliant's prayer, send down thy grace,
And succour her from evil men's designs
Who puts her trust in thee. Thwart thou their schemes,
And, for the glory of thy holy name,
Avenge thy handmaid's wrongs, and punish those
Who, strong in the abuse of worldly power,
Would fain defile the virgin chastity
Of her who seeks thy aid; rain down thy grace.
Oh! Holy Mother, who canst never see
The wrong to triumph and the right to fall,
Soften my father's heart, and let him kneel
To thee, and join with me in heartfelt prayer
And supplication, that the evils which
Do threaten us alike may be withdrawn.
[Don Silvio drops crucifix, and exit slowly and moodily.
Oh, Holy Saints! Oh, Holy Virgin Mother!
Look down in pity on this suppliant pair,
Who all unworthy are to raise our eyes
To that high Heaven, whence thou art, and seek
Thy aid and guidance, strengthen us, O Lord!
Strengthen our faith, and let our trust in Thee
Never abate, e'en in temptation's hour.
[Draws forth a rosary, and remains for some time counting her beads. Then rises.
I thank thee, Holy Virgin. Thou hast heard
The prayer of faith, and——(looking round her) What! my father gone!
Too proud to pray, alas! Oh, Heaven grant
My doting father more humility,
More faith, more hope; and aye within this breast
Keep thou my faith alive, lest Satan send
Some emissary forth to thwart thy will.
Enter Rodriguez, smiling towards Inez, who starts, looks suspiciously at her, and shudders.
Rod. What! my young mistress taken by surprise,
And scared at poor Rodriguez! I've no doubt
Some transient fever, brought on by the shock
You late have suffered, made you shiver so.
Come to old Rodriguez, my pretty bird,
Pour forth into old nurse's willing ear
All its past troubles. Did the gipsy gang
Run off with pretty darling, and insult
Her and old Pedro! Sweetest, grieve no more
Now all is over, but take courage from
Old nurse Rodriguez, who was ever wont
To smooth its pillow, and to share its griefs.
Inez. Good nurse, Rodriguez, 'tis not, as you think,
The gipsy tribe that causes me this dread.
I have another and a secret grief
I daren't divulge to thee. Nay, leave me, pray.
Rod. What! my young mistress has a secret grief;
And I, poor old Rodriguez, am debarred
From sharing it. Leave you alone, forsooth!
Leave my young mistress Inez all alone,
To brood and mope over her secret grief!
Never! You ill know nurse Rodriguez, child.
Inez. (Aside.) This is intolerable.
Rod. As you say,
It cannot be about the gipsy tribe
My darling frets. The danger's gone and past,
Thanks to the noble conduct of my lord,
The brave and gallant Don Diego, who
At risk of his own life, with sword in hand,
Did rescue you from the dark gipsy gang.
'Twas bravely done. And how he wears his years!
Just like a stripling—and how fine a man;
How courteous, too, and what a merry eye
He has for all his favourites. I'm sure
That you yourself are one, judging from how [Inez draws back scornfully.
He looks at you askance, then turns away
And sighs so deeply, little thinking that
Rodriguez guesses what he bears within.
Inez. Rodriguez, silence! Of this trash no more.
Rod. Nay, Mistress Inez; pray not angered be
With poor old nurse. She loves a jest at times.
Inez. I'm in no jesting mood, I promise you.
I pray you, leave me.
Rod. There you are again,
Wishing me to leave you alone to mope;
But, dear, Rodriguez better knows than leave
Her little mistress all uncomforted.
Away with nasty grief, and courage take
From kind old nurse, and, like her, merry be.
Inez. Your consolation, nurse, is, perhaps, well meant.
Albeit, at present, 'tis superfluous.
Rod. What! Hoity, toity! child; would'st have me see
My little Inez pining and downcast,
E'en though it be for nought at all; and ne'er
Say word to cheer her? Nay, 'tis my duty
To my mistress. So here I mean to stick
Until I've made you laugh. Come now, madam.
Inez. (Aside.) She's insupportable.
Rod. Were I a maid once more, I'd show you how
I'd laugh and enjoy the world. Not as you,
Pent up these years within a convent cell,
Till you've grown musty. A pest on convents all!
Keep them for cripples and incurables.
For those who from birth so ill-favoured are,
They find not husbands. These may chant and sing,
And moan and fast, an't please them; but, for you,
A maid of Lady Inez's beauty, jammed
Within these walls—'tis sacrilege, I ween.
Inez. Rodriguez, now you must not lightly talk
Against those holy women, who have fled
All worldly joys to win the peace of Heaven.
Rod. Each to their taste. For me, I love the world.
Inez. I know it, nurse; but at your age 'twere fit
You'd higher thoughts.
Rod. At my age! Pooh! tut, tut!
Those with a merry heart are never old.
Look at Don Diego, how he bears himself,
And all because he has a merry heart.
Had he been priest or monk, he had been old
At thirty. But just look how proud his step,
How clear his eye, how red his manly cheek.
Were I a maid once more, just of your age,
I straight should lose my heart, and that's a fact.
Heigh ho!
Inez. A truce to this unseemly banter.
Nor dare to name that man to me again.
Rod. That man! What, poor Don Diego? In what way
Hath he offended, that you treat him thus?
I'm sure he is not conscious of his fault,
Or he would die with grief; the dear, good man,
Fond of you as he is, as all can see.
Inez. Rodriguez, cease! I'll hear no more, I've said.
And let me tell you, nurse, now once for all,
It ill becomes thy years and sex, t'enact
A part, of all parts most contemptible.
Rod. What part, my pretty child? Don't so misjudge
Poor nurse Rodriguez as to think that she
Could counsel you for aught but for your good
Remember, you are young, my mistress dear,
And have yet to unlearn your convent life,
That so ill fits you for our merry world.
Your father, poor mistaken man——
Inez. Hold there,
And reverence my father as thy lord.
Rod. Ne'er doubt me, mistress mine, but e'en my lord
Would counsel you as I would counsel you.
Inez. Thou speak'st of counsel. How would'st counsel me?
Rod. Nay, then, nought 'gainst your interests; that's clear.
Had I your youth and beauty, and your chance,
I'd have a care, nor throw such chance away.
Lend not the ear to ev'ry stripling, child,
Because he's smooth of mien, but look behind
The outer gloss, and seek for solid gold.
Inez. Your counsel, nurse, is mercenary.
Rod. Tut, tut.
We've got to live; to live we've got to eat;
Then comes our dress, our servants, and what else
May appertain unto a lady born,
As was your mother, Lady Dorothea,—
Of blessed mem'ry,—when this ancient hall
Looked livelier than at the present day.
Now hark! my dear young mistress, and attend
To these my words, as were they from the lips
Of your own sainted mother, who looks down
From her high post, and sees all that we do.
What, think you, would your fondest mother say,
To see this castle go to rack and ruin,
Her darling child descend in social scale,
Because she would espouse some popinjay.
Whose wealth was all he carried on his back?
When she could get a chance to marry one
(A goodly man, if more mature in years)
A great hidalgo, and of wealth untold,
By means of which she could redeem this hall,
And make it worthy of its better days;
Pay off her father's debts, and thus content
Him and his household, and all else beside.
Why, marry, 'twere rank madness to let slip
Such glorious chance, and such a chance have you.
Inez. Enough.
Rod. Nay, I will speak in duty bound,
And tell you, willy-nilly, that the man
Who thus would lay his riches at the feet
Of my poor master's daughter is none else
Than noble Lord Don Diego.
Inez. I have said
I will not have thee mention that man's name;
I did divine thy mission from the first,
And doubt me not that thou wert amply paid
To play the go-between; but learn for once,
Base woman, that my heart must not be bought;
The purest gift of Heaven was not made
To be an article of merchandise.
My heart's in mine own keeping, and must ne'er
Be given up save to the man I love.
Though this pile fall to ruins o'er our heads;
Though hunger threaten; though my father's life
And other lives at stake be; nay, e'en though
This robe be turned to rags and I be sent
Abroad to beg my bread, and from the cold
Night storm or tempest ne'er a shelter find;
Nay, come what will, nought 'gainst the will of Heaven
Must e'er be done to suit the present hour.
Rod. Nay, speak not thus, young mistress, but be calm;
Rodriguez, too, was once a girl and thought,
E'en as you do now.
Inez. More's the pity then
That years, instead of bringing purer thoughts,
Should cancel all the purity of youth.
Rod. Nay, mistress mine, what I would say is this:
That being in youth, even as yourself,
More swayed by my heart than my interests,
I gave my heart unto the man I loved,
Disdaining higher offer, but soon found
Cause to repent for having thrown away
A better chance; for Carlos, when he saw
That I had nought, and he had nought, he 'gan
To lose the love he had for me, and then
He beat me, and we quarrelled. Soon he died.
And being left destitute, was fain t'accept
The place of servant in your father's house.
Inez. And by this tale of sorrows thou would'st prove
That we in this life are in duty bound
To sell our souls unto the highest bidder.
Away with such foul subtleties, with which
The arch-fiend baits his hook to tempt God's own.
Give me the quiet of a convent cell,
Rather than rank and splendour with disgrace.
Rod. Disgrace! Nay, honour. When the knot is tied
You will be held in honour by the world.
It is not mere protection that is offered,
But legal marriage. There's the difference.
Inez. The marriage that 'fore Heaven legal is,
Is that in which two souls are joined in one,
And not the forced and bitter mockery
Born of man's interest, by him approved.
Such match as thou would'st counsel were no match,
But lust and policy combined in one;
Most foul adultery in Heaven's eyes,
Ay, e'en despite the blessing of the church.
But, to cut short this most distasteful theme,
Perhaps thou'lt tell me, as an after-clause
Included in the pact, should I accept
This offer that Don Diego deigns to make,
'Twere necessary that this match take place
This night at midnight, without more delay.
Rod. Why, some such clause there is, I must confess,
A mere caprice. What matters it? But then
The offer is so splendid. Only think!
Inez. In case of my refusing him. What then?
Rod. You surely would not think of such a thing,
If you knew how he loved you.
Inez. Still I ask,
What's the alternative should I refuse?
Rod. I would not counsel you to brave his ire.
He loves you most devotedly, I know,
And 'tis for that he'd hasten on the match,
'Tis over-eagerness and fear to lose
His prize. A groundless fear, I do admit.
But he was ever an eccentric man:
A good man though.
Inez. So all I have to fear
Is but his ire?
Rod. I know not though what form
His ire might take. He's powerful and great,
Accustomed to obedience, to command,
Like all great military leaders who
Hold up their heads above their fellow-men.
He might use force. I would not you advise
To thwart his will, but quietly to yield.
Inez. And art thou woman, who would'st counsel me,
Through fear of violence of mortal man,
To so offend against all chastity
As yield obedience to this man's lust?
A veteran full four times mine own age,
And that, in all hot haste this very night,
When I have scarce had time to see his face!
Is't this that thou call'st love? Now fie! Now fie!
I did think better of thee, nurse Rodriguez,
Than that thy tongue could have been bought for gold
In such base cause. But since 'tis come to this—
Away from me! and tell the fiend who sent thee,
Inez would rather die a thousand deaths
Than barter her virtue for all his gold.
Rod. I dare not tell him so, my pretty bird.
Inez. Then send him here, I'll tell him so myself.
I fear no man when God is on my side.
Rod. Nay, mistress, dear, forbear. You know him not.
Inez. Yet thou would'st have me marry him. For shame!
Rod. I know not what to say. 'Twas urgency,
Most dire necessity, that made me speak;
Fear for your father's life, mine own, and Pedro's,
And last, not least, yourself, my darling child.
I am bewildered and half gone mad.
What shall we do? Oh, Heaven grant us help.
Inez. I trust as ever in the help of Heaven.
Sustain us, Lord, in our adversity,
And let us lack not faith. [A knock at the door.
Oh, holy saints!
Pedro. (Without.) Rodriguez! What ho! Donna Rodriguez!
My lord Don Diego awaiteth thee below.
Rod. I come, I come. (Aside.) Ah me! what shall I say? [Exit.
Inez. Now, saints protect us! Holy Virgin, thou
Be still my guide, nor let me pray in vain.