Trev. Impossible!
Where are our people? Salas? and LeVal?
Ig. They shouted at his welcome. At Vera Cruz
Began the unholy pageantry, that showed
As Christ had come again and all men knew him!
Each province drained its beauty by the way;
The mules that drew him caught the vanity
And picked their steps on flowers.
Trev. Tell me no more.
O Gratitude, thou hast no home on earth!
Twelve months did Juarez rule, and in twelve months
Did what no man can do but God is with him!
He healed contention’s wounds, set up new schools,
Released the land from priestcraft’s ancient grip,
Rebuilt our credit, destroyed by Miramon,
The robber president, who bonded the land
To France, then set the sword of Europe ’gainst us
Because we could not pay the unjust debt
From treasuries that his own hands had emptied.
O, ’t was a crime too big for Heaven’s eye,
And so God let it pass! France could not know—
But our own people knew—how Juarez toiled
To shape the nation to his noble thought!
Ig. Yes—yes—they knew!
Trev. We ’ll break our swords, my boy.
We have no country.
Ig. Is my uncle yet
In Texas?
Trev. Ay, and we will go to him.
... Ungrateful ground that casts all goodness from it,
And sucks a gilded poison!
(Enter Rafael, Aseffa, Miguel, Lerdo, and others of the camp)
Raf. (To Trevino) Sir, you will miss
Your breakfast, but I pledge my sword you ’ll have
To-morrow’s supper!... Ignacio!
Ig. You here,
My Rafael! (They embrace) Aseffa too!