Jul. Calamities like mine alone implore.
No virtues have redeemed them from their bonds;
Wily ferocity, keen idleness,
And the close cringes of ill-whispering want,
Educate them to plunder and obey;
Active to serve him best whom most they fear,
They show no mercy to the merciful,
And racks alone remind them of the name.
Opas. O everlasting curse for Spain and thee!
Jul. Spain should have vindicated then her wrongs
In mine, a Spaniard’s and a soldier’s wrongs.
Opas. Julian, are thine the only wrongs on earth?
And shall each Spaniard rather vindicate
Thine than his own? is there no Judge of all?
Shall mortal hand seize with impunity
The sword of vengeance, from the armoury
Of the Most High? easy to wield, and starred
With glory it appears: but all the host
Of the archangels, should they strive at once,
Would never close again its widening blade.
Jul. He who provokes it hath so much to rue.
Where’er he turn, whether to earth or heaven,
He finds an enemy, or raises one.
Opas. I never yet have seen where long success
Hath followed him who warred upon his king.
Jul. Because the virtue that inflicts the stroke
Dies with him, and the rank ignoble heads
Of plundering faction soon unite again,
And prince-protected share the spoil at rest.
FIRST ACT: THIRD SCENE.
Guard announces a herald. Opas departs.
Guard. A messenger of peace is at the gate,
My lord, safe access, private audience,
And free return, he claims.