CAPTAIN. That Luis Enius
Has escaped, and from the fortress
All the guards have fled.
LEOGAIRE. My lord,
I saw entering here Polonia.
PHILIP. Heavens! beyond all doubt 'twas she
Who released him. That her lover
He dared call him, you well know.
Jealousy and rage provoke me
To pursue them. A new Troy
Will to-day be Ireland's story.
[Exit.
KING. Give me, too, a horse; in person
I these fugitives will follow.
Ah, what Christians are these two
Who with actions so discordant,
One deprives me of my rest,
And the other robs my honour?
But the twain shall feel the weight
Of my vengeful hands fall on them;
For not safe from me would be
Even their sovereign Roman Pontiff.
[Exeunt.
* * * * *
SCENE X.
A WOOD, AT WHOSE EXTREMITY IS PAUL'S CABIN.
POLONIA flying wounded, and LUIS with a naked dagger in his hand.
POLONIA. Oh, hold thy bloody hand!
Though love be dead, let Christian faith command.
My honour take; but, oh, my poor life spare,
That suppliant at thy feet pours out its humble prayer.
LUIS. Hapless Polonia, since creation's hour
Beauty has ever one unvarying dower,
It brings misfortune with it, it is this
Makes beauty rarely live long time with bliss.
I, who less pity feel
Than any headsman who e'er held death's steel,
May by thy death procure
My life, since with it I will go secure.
If thee I bring where fortune's hand may guide me
I bring the witness of my woes beside me,
By whom they may pursue me,
Track me, discover me, in fact, undo me
If here I leave thee living,
I leave thee angry, vengeful, unforgiving;
Leave thee, in fact, to be
One enemy more (and what an enemy!);
Thus equally I grieve thee,
Thus evil do whether I take or leave thee;
And so 'tis better thus,
That I a wretch, cruel and infamous,
False, impious, fierce, abandoned, wicked, banned
By God and man, should slay thee by my hand,
Since buried here,
Within the rustic entrails dark and drear
Of this rude realm of stone,
My worst misfortune shall remain unknown.
My fury, too, shall gain
A novel kind of vengeance when thou'rt slain,
Remaining satisfied
That Philip, too, by the same stroke has died,
If in thy heart he lived; and then mine ire
Will need no victim more except thy sire.
Through thee first came
My first disgrace, the cause of all my shame,
And so the first of all
On thee my vengeful strokes shall furious fall.