Cov. Thither let us depart, and speedily.
Jul. I cannot go: I live not in the land
I have reduced beneath such wretchedness:
And who could leave the brave, whose lives and fortunes
Hang on his sword?
Cov. Me thou canst leave, my father;
Ah yes, for it is past; too well thou seest
My life and fortunes rest not upon thee.
Long, happily—could it be gloriously!—
Still mayst thou live, and save thy country still!
Jul. Unconquerable land! unrivalled race!
Whose bravery, too enduring, rues alike
The power and weakness of accursed kings—
How cruelly hast thou neglected me!
Forcing me from thee, never to return,
Nor in thy pangs and struggles to partake!
I hear a voice—’tis Egilona—come,
Recall thy courage, dear unhappy girl,
Let us away.
SECOND ACT: THIRD SCENE.
Egilona enters.
Egi. Remain, I order thee.
Attend, and do thy duty: I am queen,
Unbent to degradation.
Cov. I attend
Ever most humbly and most gratefully
My too kind sovereign, cousin now no more;
Could I perform but half the services
I owe her, I were happy for a time;
Or dared I show her half my love, ’twere bliss.
Egi. Oh! I sink under gentleness like thine.
Thy sight is death to me; and yet ’tis dear.
The gaudy trappings of assumptive state
Drop at the voice of nature to the earth,
Before thy feet—I cannot force myself
To hate thee, to renounce thee; yet—Covilla!
Yet—oh distracting thought! ’tis hard to see,
Hard to converse with, to admire, to love—
As from my soul I do, and must do, thee—
One who hath robbed me of all pride and joy,
All dignity, all fondness. I adored
Roderigo—he was brave, and in discourse
Most voluble; the masses of his mind
Were vast, but varied; now absorbed in gloom,
Majestic, not austere; now their extent
Opening, and waving in bright levity—
Jul. Depart, my daughter—’twere as well to bear
His presence as his praise—go—she will dream
This phantasm out, nor notice thee depart.