Asef. Stop, Rafael! O thank God these hands have known
That blessed of all fortunes,—to toil for love!
These eyes that sought for but a face more fair,
A flower more sweet, have found the stars that rise
Where Truth and Courage wander in the night!
In southern vales maybe we ’ll hear again
The morning birds sing at our bowered windows,
But we will not forget the nobler song
Now borne by winds about these mountain peaks,—
The song of man made free!
Raf. We ’ll not forget.
But will that sweet day come? Tell me, Aseffa,
You who are half a sibyl,—shall we go down
That valley to our home?
Asef. ’T is not to gain
Our father’s halls, and sit ’neath fig and vine,
We hide and starve and stagger in these hills,
But to keep noble the last hour of life,
That Death who gathers it may read thereon
The seal immortal of approving God.
Raf. Yes—dear Aseffa—but—(Faints)
Asef. Rafael! Rafael!
Ah dying! O my prating virtue ’s gone!
I care for naught but that my love shall live!
O, Liberty, wilt spare me this one life?
... Ho! Miguel! Up!
Mig. Hey! What! Senora!... Ah!
Lerdo. What ’s here?
Asef. There ’s wine in the general’s tent! Rafael!
My love, my love, look up!... O Mexico,
With all thy veins of gold thou art not worth
One dear drop of his blood!
(Enter General Trevino)
Trev. What ’s this new grief?
Not Rafael!... He faints. ’T is hunger ... hunger.
Miguel! Lerdo! Bear him to my tent.
Give him what food you find there. First the wine!