[Exit Henriquez.
Cæsa. I'll watch the king myself!
Mel. As yet he's safe.
Soon as he parted from the troops, Alfonso,
By Inis guided, tow'rds the forest sped,
To seek and sooth his late-found friend Orsino.
Cæsa. [Starting] Whom, whom? Orsino? what Orsino? speak.
Mel. The count San Lucar, long thought dead, but saved.
It seems, by Amelrosa's care—Time presses——
I must away: farewell.
Cæsa. At one, remember—
Beneath the royal tower——
Mel. Fear not my failing.
Cæsa. [Alone] He lives! My father lives!
Oh, let but vengeance
Fire him to spurn Alfonso and his friendship.
His martial fame the memory of his virtues,
His talents, rank, and sufferings undeserved——
Oh! what a noble column to support
My new-raised power! [Going.]
Enter Ottilia. [Veiled.]
Otti. Cæsario, stay!
Cæsa. Forgive me,
Fair lady, if my speech appears ungentle;
Such business calls——
Otti. [Unveiling] Than mine there's none more urgent.
Cæsa. Ottilia!
Otti. Need I say what brings me hither?
Cæsa. Those angry eyes too plainly speak, that still Estella.
Otti. She? Dissembler! fiend?—Peace, peace;
I come not here to rave, but to command.
You love the Princess, are beloved again——
Speak not! She saw this scarf; her tears, her anguish
Betrayed her secret. Yes, you love the Princess!
But, while I breathe, if e'er her hand is yours,
Strike me dead, lightnings!
Cæsa. Hear me!
Otti. Look on this [showing a paper.]
Cæsa. 'Tis Guzman's hand.
Otti. He bade me to the king
Bear it with other papers; but my prudence,
For mine own purposes, kept back the scroll.
Lo! here a full confession of your plots—
The mine described—the vault—the hour—the signal—
What troops are gained—the list of sworn confederates—
And foremost in the list here stands Cæsario!
Cæsa. Confusion!
Otti. Nay, 'tis so! Now mark me, youth!
Either mine hand at midnight as my husband's
Clasps thine, or gives this paper to Alfonso!
Prepare a friar—at Juan's chapel meet me
At midnight, or the king——
Cæsa. You rave, Ottilia!
While Guzman lives.
Otti. Young man, his hours are counted:
Three scarce are his—Last night I drugged the bowl
In which he drank a farewell to the world.
Ay, ay, 'tis true! thou'rt mine! With blood I've bought thee!
Nothing now parts us but the grave,—and there,
E'en there I'll claim thee!—If tonight thou com'st not—
Cæsa. I will, by heaven!
Otti. Nay, fail at your own peril——
Your life is in my power! my breath can blast you!
Choose, then, Cæsario, 'twixt thy bane and bliss—
Love or a grave! a kingdom or a scaffold!
My arms or death's—By yonder sun I swear,
Ere morning dawns, thou shalt be mine or nothing! [Exit.
Cæsa. Is't so?—Thy blood then on thy head—This paper—
----This female fiend—the scarf too!—I must straight
Appease the princess—some well-varnished tale
----Some glib excuse—Oh! hateful task! Oh, Truth!
How my soul longs once more to join thy train,
Tear off the mask, and show me as I am!
The wretch for life immur'd; the Christian slave
Of Pagan lords; or he whose bloody sweat
Speeds the fleet galley o'er the sparkling waves,
Bears easy toil, light chains, and pleasant bondage,
Weighed with thy service, Falsehood! Still to smile
On those we loath; to teach the lips a lesson
Smooth, sweet, and false; to watch the tell-tale eye,
Fashion each feature, sift each honest word
That swells upon the tongue, and fear to find
A traitor in one's self—By heaven, I know
No toil, no curse, no slavery, like dissembling!
[Exit.
SCENE II. A wild forest, with rocks, waterfalls, &c. On one side a hermitage and a rustic tomb, with various pieces of armour scattered near it, "Victoria" is engraved on it; a river is in the background.
Orsino stands on a rock which overhangs the river.
Orsi. Yes thou art lovely World! That blue-robed sky;
These giant rocks, their forms grotesque and awful
Reflected on the calm stream's lucid mirror;
These reverend oaks, through which (their rustling leaves
Dancing and twinkling in the sunbeams) light
Now gleams, now disappears, while yon fierce torrent,
Tumbling from crag to crag with measured dash,
Makes to the ear strange music: World, oh! World!
Who sees thee such must needs confess thee fair!
Who knows thee not must needs suppose thee good.
[With a sudden burst of indignation]
But I have tried thee, World! know all these beauties
Mere shows and snares; know thee a gilded serpent,
A flowery bank whose sweets smile o'er a pitfall;
A splendid prison, precious tomb, fair palace,
Whose golden domes allure poor wanderers in,
And when they've entered, crush them! Such I know thee
And, knowing, loath thy charms! Rise, rise, ye storms!
Mingle ye elements! Flash lightnings, flash!
Unmask this witch! blast her pernicious beauty!
And show me Nature as she is, a monster!
—I'll look no more! Oh! my torn heart! Victoria!
My son! Oh God! My son! Lost! lost! both lost!
[Leaning against the tomb.