JOHN W. MORGAN. BERKELEY LIBRARY OF CAMfORNIA BOOKS A.HE OU*hEST FRIENDS WHEN WE TIRE OF THEM WE CAN SHUT THEM UP me, J S DRAMATIC POEMS BY HARRIETTS FANNING READ BOSTON: WM. CROSBY AND H. P. NICHOLS, 111 WASHINGTON STREET. 1848. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, by HARRIETTS FANNING READ, in the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. CAMBRIDGE . METCALF AND COMPANY PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. / 3 T~ S3 TO MRS. JAMES K. PAIGE, AND THE MANY OTHER FRIENDS TO WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT I AM INDEBTED FOR THE SUCCESSFUL COMMENCEMENT OF MY ENTERPRISE, I VENTURE TO DEDICATE THIS VOLUME IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THEIR AID AND SYMPATHY. 807 INTRODUCTION. IT is customary for persons, on first presenting themselves for enrolment in the motley ranks of author ship, to offer to those dreaded inspectors, the critics, some reason for appearing before them, some excuse for deficiencies, which may propitiate or soften those guardians of the public taste. In adopting this usage, I will endeavour to be concise. It has been said that the world is indebted for great works to " the pressure of want without, and genius within" ; but to the first clause of the above-cited inspiration, and to a love of publicity, I believe it is conceded that we owe a large portion of the literature of the nineteenth century ; by sufferance and custom, the former has come to be received as a valid plea for admission into the army of self-tormentors, ycleped authors. I can present no other. I will not commit the mistake of offering many statements in palliation of the crudeness of these per formances ; it is to personal friends alone that we vi INTRODUCTION. can look for sympathy or patience with such de tails ; one only shield will I venture to place be tween their defects and deserved censure, which is, that these plays were written between the age of twenty and twenty- three, a period at which much literary power or finish is not expected even of the stronger sex, with their superior opportunities of thought and study. With this excuse (which, if not well grounded, must vanish before the first glance of fair investigation) I will intrude no longer on the attention of the courteous reader, than to express here, as in my Dedication, my heartfelt sense of the exceeding kindness and encouragement which have enabled me to persevere in an undertaking that would have been otherwise so hazardous and painful. H. F. R. CONTENTS PAGE MEDEA, ........ 1 ERMINIA; A TALE OF FLORENCE, . . . .99 THE NEW WORLD, 197 MEDEA. DRAMATIS PERSONS. King of Colchis. ABSYRTUS, His Son. JASON, A Greek Prince. ICARUS, His Friend. CREON, King of Corinth. LYCUS, A Slave. MEDEA, Daughter of Mtes. CREUSA, Daughter of Creon. IANTHE, Attendant on Medea. DIRCETIS, Attendant on Creusa. Followers of JEtes, Creon, and Jason. Tfie SCENE during the first two acts is in Colchis ; for the remainder of the play, in Corinth. MEDEA. ACT I. SCENE I. An apartment in the palace of ^ETES. Enter ABSYRTUS and I AN THE, meeting. IANTHE. STAY, gentle prince, thy steps ; thy sister sleeps. ABSYRTUS. The king requires her presence. IANTHE. Even for him I may not chase her slumbers, for to-day A most unwonted gloom oppresses her, And e en to me, of her attendant train Most favored, her accustomed sweetness fails. ABSYRTUS. Bid her come forth, and view the glorious scene Which late I left. T would make a bondman s heart Beat free from gloom. When shall I be a man ? IANTHE. What is t inspires thy boyish fancy thus ? ABSYRTUS. Seest thou, lanthe, by the river s side Yon gallant ship ? Full fifty warriors thence 1 MEDEA. The pride of Greece have landed on our shores. Radiant in armour, with heroic mien They met the herald whom my father sent To learn their purpose here. O fair lanthe, Hadst thou but seen their chief, Thessalian Jason ! Hadst seen his towering form, his flashing eye, Whilst, lightly leaning on his spear, he gazed On all around, as he were king in Colchis ! IANTHE. What seeks he here ? ABSYRTUS. He claims the golden fleece, The hallowed offering on the shrine of Mars, And thinks with fifty followers to enforce This bold demand against the king, my father. And yet, lanthe, he is but a youth, Has scarce seen twenty summers. Fare thee well ! When I m a man, and bear the weight of armour, I 11 not be less a hero than this Jason, For I shall be a king, you know, lanthe. [Exit. IANTHE. Greeks ! How my heart beats at the sound ! I too Was born in Thessaly s loved vales, nor can Forget what freedom was, though gratitude To my sweet mistress, gentlest of her sex, Forbids the captive s sigh. Could I but see My countrymen ! Medea sleeps ; I 11 dare Desert my post, just for a moment s glance. [Exit. MEDEA. SCENE II. MEDEA discovered sleeping. Slie starts from her couch. MEDEA. STAY thine unhallowed hand ! He shall not die ! Where am I ? What enthralls my senses thus ? Ah, was t a vision then, yon glorious form ? Return, return, bright phantom ! Thou art fled, And with thee my deluded heart has sunk To night and chaos. Let me ever dream ! To be deluded thus is of more worth Than all earth s tame realities. It moves Before me now in all the light of truth ! Here- stood the king, his brow inflamed with rage ; His murderous falchion raised against a form, Ye gods ! so like yourselves in majesty, And sunlike beauty, that my untamed heart Owned a supremacy ne er felt before, Now felt but to be mourned. It cannot be A thing of falsehood. Falsehood could not show In forms so vivid. O er it still would hang Some murky vapor to betray its birth. Cease, my bewildered heart, these fond essays Gainst reason s voice ! Enamoured of a dream ! Tears of despair and shame o erflow mine eyes. Yet why despair ? for some benignant power May, in its prescient wisdom, thus have sent MEDEA These shadowy ministers from Lethe s banks As heralds of the future. It is so ! The air is redolent of perfume, and A strange, mysterious awe o erpowers my soul ! Some God inspires my hopes ! Bright Queen of Heaven, Assure my troubled heart ! Grant me some sign That madness has not seized my wavering soul ! (A peal of thunder is heard. ) Auspicious omen ! Mighty Juno, thanks ! (Enter IANTHE.) IANTHE. Princess, MEDEA. Who calls me thus from heaven to earth ? IANTHE. The king MEDEA. What of the king, barbarian ? Speak ! IANTHE. Commands thy presence at the council-seat. MEDEA. Why should I tremble thus ? It is his wont To call me to his side ; why should I fear Lest mortal eye should scan this fluttering heart, And read the page traced by the hand of Heaven ? [Aside. Exit. IANTHE. Some heavy care, or grief, or fear, disturbs MEDEA. Her gentle breast. This agitation s strange, And comes across her tender, graceful mien, Like storm-clouds whirling o er the crescent moon. (Enter LYCUS.) LYCUS. How s this, lanthe ? Musing ? Leave dull thoughts To those who, free of hand, are slaves in mind, Fettered by Care, who hath enfranchised us. IANTHE. Of such I mused. Saw you the princess ? LYCUS. No. My errand was to bid her haste her steps To the king s presence. IANTHE. She is gone ; but with Such strange disorder in her looks and words As made me wonder. LYCUS. Call st thou that a cause Of wonder ? Ah, lanthe ! t is more strange That reason ever guides the looks or speech Of one who lives defying all her laws. IANTHE. What mean st thou, Lycus ? LYCUS. No enigma, dear. Nature nor reason formed your gentle sex MEDEA. To deal in magic arts, save those of Love, To brave the gods, by rending the dark veil They place between us and their mysteries, To waste the nights, which Nature gave for rest, In vigils passed in dark companionship With fiends and ghosts, forced from their dire abode In Pluto s realm, to fright the very stars From their accustomed spheres, by horrid rites At Hecate s shrine, what gain ye by such power ? Raised above mortals, still beneath the gods ; The first both fear and shun the sorceress ; The latter mock her meagre emulation Of godlike power and wisdom. She gains not The pride of heaven, loses the bliss of earth. My life upon t, Medea never loved. IANTHE. She loves me well. LYCUS. The good gods bless her for t ! But think st thou she hath ever loved as we love ? IANTHE. No ; for a heart like hers could only yield To one of as rich worth. LYCUS. Then she can love ? IANTHE. Ay ; her young heart s a mine of pure affection, From which no common hand hath ever gained MEDEA. A single gem ; he who wins aught wins all ; But he must show his title to the prize In spotless truth, heroic deeds, and love Ardent, unwavering, as the sun s bright rays. Apollo s self might covet such a bride. LYCUS. Thy praises, flowing from a grateful heart, Grace thee as much as her. But hark thee, love, What says she to my suit for thee ? T is long Since Love hath bound our hearts ; is it not time To offer sacrifice at Hymen s shrine ? IANTHE. What should she say, whose wishes ever tend To others happiness ? She bade me bear Her full consent to thee, and earnest prayer That all the gods may smile upon us. Come, I 11 show thee gifts her kindness hath bestowed. LYCUS. May she be happy as she now makes us ! [Exeunt. SCENE III. A public place near the palace ; in the centre a throne. Enter ^ETES, attended by nobles and guards. JETES. WHY stay these strangers ? Are they warned the king Waits their approach ? MEDEA NOBLE. Dread sovereign, they appear. ^ETES. The princess, too. We ordered her attendance. Why lingers she ? (Enter MEDEA.) MEDEA. My father and my king ! (Enter, opposite, JASON and the ARGONAUTS. MEDEA sinks at the king s feet, as she perceives JASON.) My dream ! my dream ! Protect me, wife of Jove ! JETES. What folly s this ? Tremblest thou at a word ? Arise ; remember now thou art a princess. MEDEA. Alas, t is now I know myself a slave ! [Aside. JETES. Strangers, let him who calls himself your chief Stand forth, and say by what design or chance You press the shores of Colchis. JASON. I am he, Whom my brave comrades, the good gods consenting, Have placed as leader of our enterprise ; Jason, the heir to fair lolcos throne, Whence, in mine infancy, Pelias cast My sire, its monarch. Most unwillingly I offer, sovereign ^Etes, to your ear MEDEA. This dull recital of a stranger s wrongs ; But dire Necessity thus orders it, To whom even Jove submits. JETES. Proceed to say What dire necessity conducts thee here. JASON. Soon as to manhood s strength ambition s hopes Dared look for confirmation, I approached The tyrant, who, enthroned amid my subjects, Suspected not a rival, and in words Where prudence wrestled with my lawful passion, I claimed my birthright. The usurper shook With guilty fears. Although around the throne His armed warriors closed, and I, a youth, With no defence save the invisible arms Of the just gods, stood there within his power, He dared not, even by sign, command my death, But with evasive speech strove to content me. These were his words, for which I crave your patience : " Late to my slumbers came the frowning shade Of Phryxus, my unhappy kinsman, who Bade me remember that the golden fleece, Celestial gift, remained to bless a land Remote from Thessaly. The vision s will Must not be disobeyed : but I am old, By nature s laws unfit for enterprise ; Therefore go thou ; to Colchis speed thy way ; 2 10 MEDEA. Regain the golden fleece, and here I swear By Jupiter, our common ancestor, No act of mine shall bar thee from thy right, But my own hand place on thy head the crown." He ceased : I joyfully accept his bidding. Through tedious ways, and weary toils, at length Behold the destined land, and from its king Request the precious relic, which the gods Ordained the spur and recompense of valor. Insolent pirate ! Lightnings blast thy tongue, And thunders drown thy evil-boding voice ! Though thou couldst beard a Greek upon his throne And live, so shalt thou never do in Colchis ! Down to the infernal gods, whose lying dreams Have sent thee here, as fitting sacrifice To Phryxus angry manes ! MEDEA. On thy life, Forbear ! The gods with awful wrath pursue The wretch whose sacrilegious hand is raised Against a guest. Dare ./Etes war with Jove ? J3TES. Away ! his rashness doth insult the powers Whose rights you vainly urge. The prize he seeks, Bestowed on Phryxus by Apollo s grace, Descends from him to me ; a talisman Which brings such priceless blessings to my country, MEDEA. 11 That he who asks that, next may ask my crown. JASON. T is with Apollo s self you war, O king ! The Delphian oracle declares the fleece Destined to crown my toils ; no right hast thou To the celestial gift, from Phryxus won By guilt inhospitable. jETES. Seize him, guards ! Him and his robber crew ! What do ye dread ? MEDEA. Medea s glance ! What Colchian dare assail Where she defends ? By all the gods, who stirs To thwart my will shall meet with pangs more dire Than ever racked Prometheus rock-bound frame ! JETES. How s this ? The earth-contemning ministrant At Hecate s shrine thus mindful of a mortal ! Weigh st thou a stranger gainst thy native land ? Weigh st thou a stranger gainst thy father s honor ? MEDEA. Country nor friends I weigh against the gods. Say, when the supreme majesty of heaven Deigns interfere to save a mortal s life, Shall I refuse its task ? A vision, sent By sovereign Juno, shaped my present course, To save thy hand from blood which she protects. 12 MEDEA. JETES. I yield, Medea. To such power as thine Even kings are subject. I may thank the gods, Who made thee gentle, when they made thee strong. Jason, the princess mercy claims thy knee. But for her boldness, thou and all thy train Ere this had fallen beneath my lawful wrath. JASON. To her, as to the guardian queen of heaven, With grateful heart I thus present my homage. MEDEA. Warrior, pay reverence to the king of Colchis, Not to his child and subject. jETES. Jason, hear ! This grace the king accords thee : thou art free, Since Heaven regards thy life, to leave my court ; But if thy desperate valor prompt thee still Towards thine unattainable desire, Learn through what toils and dangers you must seek The temple of great Mars, upon whose shrine Reposes the rich prize. First must be yoked Two bulls, dreadful with horns and feet of brass, Breathing forth poisonous flames ; with these thy hand Must plough a space of earth ; a dragon s teeth Then in the furrows sow ; they spring forth men ! With spear and shield they hotly seek the fight. MEDEA. 13 These slain, next quell the huge and watchful dragon, Whose hideous length lies coiled before the altar. But, ere with sacrilegious hand you seize The glittering spoil, forget not first with prayer To deprecate the vengeance of the god. JASON. I will implore his aid, nor doubt the boon. A warrior is the votary of Mars, Whose shield is ever spread to guard his life, Whose smile beams through the darkest clouds of war, At once the beacon and the lure to glory. JETES. Go, then ; prepare thy arms, and look thy last Upon the orb of day ; for he and thou Will sink in night together. JASON. I accept The omen, king ; he sinks, to rise again In splendor, warmth, and strength renewed. Hope not To see me yield, but as he yields, to rise, Exulting in new vigor. By the gods ! The conqueror s pride swells now within my breast. [Exit, with his train. jETES. Go, boastful youth, short-lived thy conquering pride ! Nor men nor gods shall force me to behold A boyish Greek insult my rank and power, Challenge my claims, and bear my spoils away ! 14 MEDEA. (To MEDEA.) Since mortal hand must not attack this foe, See that the aids of magic fail me not. [Exit, with followers. MEDEA. Teach me, O Love, to save, or perish with him ! [Exit. SCENE IV. Before the temple o/" HECATE. Enter JASON and ICARUS. JASON. No more, Icarus ; on this enterprise I perilled all, and all is lost. To hope Were weakness. For myself I have no fear, But my brave friends thus ruined hy my madness ! Would I had fifty lives, that, one by one, I might resign them as my comrades ransom ! ICARUS. Hope dwells with life, nor will she be repelled By wisdom or despair. To-day thy life Seemed forfeit, but kind Heaven sent aid, such aid As well might make grim Death forego his purpose, And give life double sweetness. JASON. It is that Gives death its horrors. Love, Icarus, love Attacked me from her eye, as now it gleamed MEDEA. 15 Defiance on my foes, now fell on me With soul-subduing sweetness, while a tint, Soft as the morn s first blush, suffused her cheek Beneath my grateful gaze. Ye gods ! to die, When Love s elysium first bursts on the soul ! Better a thousand deaths in the heart s torpor, Than one at such awakening ! ICARUS. E en that one Thou shalt not suffer. She who saved thee then Can save thee now, and all with thee. Seek her ; With equal fervor breathe thy love to her, As now to me, nor fear for the result. Go, match fair Venus mischief-making boy At his own weapons. Would thine were my lot ! [Exeunt. SCENE V. The temple of HECATE. Enter MEDEA. MEDEA. HAIL to this hallowed dome ! Here can I breathe In freedom ; here, in secret, meditate On saving him I love ; I love ! my lips Tremble in uttering such unwonted sounds. I love ! Love whom ? A stranger, who insults My father s power and seeks my country s wealth ? A wandering exile ? Princess, let thy heart 16 MEDEA. Beat with far other, higher aspirations ! Love ! What know I of love ? Vain dream, away ! T is but my fancy s momentary freak, For oft she aims at us Love s headless darts, Which startle us, but wound not. T is not love ! My reason soars again ! But must he die ? Shall savage bulls, in most unequal strife, With brazen horns tear out his warrior heart, And crush that brow where dignity and grace Are stamped as on the young Apollo s front ? Must I behold the eyes, so full of hope, Rolling in the fierce agonies of death ? Ah, men and gods forbid the unholy strife ! Forbid it, Love ! I writhe beneath thy darts, And nature rends away the filmy veil With which I vainly sought to blind her eyes. (Enter JASON.) What wouldst thou here ? JASON. To thank thee for my life. MEDEA. A princess takes not e en the hire of thanks For princely deeds ; rather address the gods To guard thee gainst the coming dangers. JASON. Ah! Who looks from present bliss to future ill ? MEDEA. 17 MEDEA. The truly great ! Else are they but the tools Of time and chance. Aim st thou to be of those. Look to the future. Pray Minerva s aid, Ere you seek that of Mars ; nor think that I Can give thee wisdom, as I gave thee life. JASON. I do implore both deities, and draw Their inspiration from thine eyes. They are But two. Dared I but hope thou wouldst admit Bright Venus to the council, that her smile Might lend its softness to Minerva s lip, And gild the rugged front of Mars, then, then, With earnest prayer I d hail the heavenly three, And raise an altar to propitious Fortune. MEDEA. What hath the gentle mother of the Loves To do where Death hath warrant to intrude ? JASON. To soften the grim tyrant with her tears, And charm him by her smiles ; to turn aside, With heavy sighings of her fragrant breath, His cruel dart ; then raise to life and hope The rescued suppliant. MEDEA. I must hear no more ! JASON. Stay, princess, I implore thee ! To what end 3 18 MEDEA. Didst thou avert thy father s falchion, since A deadlier peril doth encompass me ? Let me not dare to think you saved my life To offer me, in ruthless sacrifice, To foes beyond the prowess of a mortal ! MEDEA.* Ye heavens, bear witness that it was not so ! JASON. Didst thou bend on me thy resistless glance, Teaching my heart the most enthralling charm That earth can boast, bestowing thus on life A new attraction, but to give Death a horror, Which his own grim aspect could ne er impart ? MEDEA. Why dost thou torture me with these wild words ? JASON. Great Mars attest, that but a short hour since I would have spurned the prophet to my feet, Who had foretold that Jason would have shrunk From danger, or from death ; now is my heart Humbled by Venus power, and I will sue To thee for life, if with that life thou It give Thy love MEDEA. Rash stranger, this is madness ! Yet I am most mad, who listen, but should fly ! JASON. Thou canst not fly, for Pity bars the way. MEDEA. 19 O, let her plead for me, and Love for both ! MEDEA. And if they should, Nature would plead against them. My father, country, friends, her hand presents, An awful shield gainst the darts of Love ! JASON. T is true ; and I depart to die ; for see ! Thy fierce barbarians hurry to the spot From which my dying groans must glut their ears ; And with slow pace my brother-warriors go To meet their doom in mine. Distracting thought ! Ah, mighty princess, hear my prayer for them, My much-loved friends ! Save them, thou only canst, For they have wives, and fair affianced brides, In their own land of Greece ! MEDEA. And for thyself ? JASON. I have nor wife, nor bride. I would not take Life as a boon, though kings stooped to implore me, Unless Medea s love enriched the gift. Though life with her were an Elysium* Without her smile it seems so dark and drear, I cast it off, as captives do their chains, And look for joy in death. MEDEA. Then, Jason, live ! Medea bids thee live for her and Love. 20 MEDEA. JASON. Does Fate relent ? I thank the bounteous gods, Who, while I blamed their rigor, had in store A blessing worthy an immortal s envy. Bright star of hope, O, speak ! confirm again My raptures ! Hark ! upon yon plain of death They clamor for the victim. I must hence. MEDEA. Go, Jason, fearless, to the monstrous combat ; It hath no dangers to Medea s lord. [Exeunt severally. MEDEA. 21 ACT II. SCENE I. Enter LYCUS and IANTHE, meeting. IANTHE. THY looks bespeak great news ; what of the fight ? LYCUS. Joy, joy, lanthe, chokes my utterance. Jason hath burst the snares of magic power, And stands triumphant mid the wondering crowd. IANTHE. O, stop not there ! Say, how was this achieved ? LYCUS. The gods have aided, for no earthly skill Could thus have quelled unearthly enemies. Low bowed the savage bulls their mighty necks, And from the warrior s hand the slavish yoke Received with fear, and then, with sullen steps, But unresisting, dragged the servile plough Across the appointed space ; with hasty hand Jason dispersed upon the furrowed soil The dragon s teeth ; forth sprung the wondrous birth Of warriors, panting for the fight ; they joined In strife unequal ; every side they press The hapless Greek with blows ; still he maintains 22 MEDEA. Such conflict as a single arm can hold. His falchion snaps in twain ; he sinks, he dies ! No, he but bends to snatch from favoring earth Another weapon, in a ponderous stone. With well-directed aim, and vigorous arm, He hurls it midst his thronging enemies ; When, wondrous to behold ! the war is changed ! Each dragon-sprung combatant turns his force Against his brother ; bloody strife they wage, Until not one is left ; and Jason stands The conqueror, where he thought to find his doom ! IANTHE. How bore the king this unexpected end ? LYCUS. Shame and revenge sat darkling on his brow ; Then, starting from his seat, he waved his hand, And, followed by his court, rushed from the scene. Freed from the terrors of his glance, the crowd, Both Greeks and Colchians, raise the loud acclaim. Let me too shout, Jason and liberty ! IANTHE. Mock not our fates with that forbidden word. LYCUS. By all the gods, it shall not long be so ! (Enter MEDEA in the background.) What wouldst thou risk for Greece and liberty ? IANTHE. My life ! my life ! and only ask to breathe MEDEA. 23 Its latest sigh upon my native shores. LYCUS. It shall be so. Hold thou a constant mind, And we 7 11 elope with these our countrymen. ? T will not be hard, so trusted as we are, To effect this purpose. Look st thou doubtingly ? Canst thou refuse ? IANTHE. No, but there s one, of whom I dare not ask approval of my flight. LYCUS. Medea ? IANTHE. Gratitude. MEDEA (coming forward). Both bid thee fly ! Blush not, nor kneel for pardon, but receive My full and free consent. Lycus, go thou ; Swiftly and secretly prepare to leave Colchis and slavery this night. Stay not For further question. Thou art free. Begone ! [Exit LYCUS. My gentle girl, why look st thou fearfully ? Think st thou my reason hath deserted me ? But, though it still abide within my brain, It hath no power upon the jarring thoughts That rage in unrestrained rebellion there, lanthe, thou art but in name a slave ; 24 MEDEA. For in my heart I placed thee as a friend. Hast thou not felt it so ? IANTHE. I have, my princess. O, teach me to repay the debt ! MEDEA. Then be More than a friend ; O, be my elder sister ! For much I need a sister s aid and counsel. IANTHE. The first I render as a sacred due ; But for the last, who to Medea can So well give counsel as Medea s self. MEDEA. Not when my reason and my heart each strive To gain the mastery. Yet to thy breast I 11 dare intrust my thoughts ; I 11 dare to speak, If thou hast strength to hear. IANTHE. Thy looks are strange ! If that which thou wouldst say refers to me, Delay it not. MEDEA. lanthe, thou hast seen Lycus, thy chosen lord, depart in freedom : Did it not glad thy heart ? IANTHE. Princess, it gave New life to it. MEDEA. 25 MEDEA. Didst thou not hope to share This freedom with him ? IANTHE. How ! What means Medea ? MEDEA. If Fate decree that he alone shall view His native Greece, and thou still linger here IANTHE. Fate first must slay me ! Princess, on my knee I pray revoke the cruel supposition ! Thou art our Fate, thou only canst decree this. MEDEA. Could nothing tempt thee to remain in Colchis, Medea s friendship, wealth and rank, a lord From the most noble of our Colchian warriors ? IANTHE. Were the world offered me I should despise it. MEDEA. Suppose thou wert in Greece, in thine own land, Dearer, because thine own, than fair Elysium, With all the ties of parents, sisters, brothers, Kindred, and country strong within thy breast ; Wouldst thou, for Lycus, rend those quivering bonds, And trust thy bleeding heart with confidence To him, a stranger, from a distant land, And find thy home, thy kindred, ay, thy life, In him ? 4 26 MEDEA. IANTHE. Attest it, Truth ! MEDEA. The oracle Of nature doth address me through her lips ! Fear not, lanthe, that I would destroy The frailest tenure of thy happiness. Draw nearer, lest the echo of my words Should steal unto my tyrant father s ear. As thou hast said, even so will I perform. Hark thee ! T was I who tamed yon furious beasts ! T was I who pointed out the magic stone, Which turned upon each other the fell power Of Jason s hellish foes ! Still there remains Another task, the watchful dragon s eye To be eluded ; with Lethean dew In magic slumber will I seal his senses ; Seize then the golden fleece, and swiftly mount The gallant Argo, blest in Jason s love, And looking on the future through his eyes ! [Exeunt. SCENE II. Before the temple O/*MARS. Enter JASON. JASON. HERE did my sweet enchantress bid me wait The last hard task her tyrant sire ordained ; MEDEA. 27 A task not hard to me, who, safely borne On Cupid s pinions, o er such perils skim. What need he fear, whose path, however dark, The gentle smile of Love s bright queen illumes, While Mars, for her sake, with his warlike arm Dashes aside the dangers of the way ? (Enter MEDEA from the temple.) MEDEA. The foe hath sunk neath sleep s resistless wand. Go fearlessly, and seize the prize : I cannot, [Exit JASON. I cannot gather strength thus to despoil My father of the thing he holds so dear, Although t was won by blood, the innocent blood Of Jason s murdered kinsman ! Deities Of heaven and hell, aid and protect me now ! At this drear hour of earthly stillness, ye From Ida s groves, with ever-beaming eyes That pay no tribute to Lethean waves, Behold your votaress ! No visible form Is near, but the cold, stern, unwavering glance Of Destiny is fixed upon my soul, Bidding me scan again its hopes, and fears, And secret motives, in whose knowledge she Must hold communion with me. T is the hand Of Destiny impels, yet her stern voice Sinks in my heart, and echoes through its cells, " Reflect, Medea ! When you place yourself 28 MEDEA On yonder wave, and view the Argo s sail Spread to the breeze, you spread life s shivering sails Before my breath, which, with a power beyond E en Hope, must bear thee onward to the end ! Before my piercing glance the phantom Change Sinks to oblivion ; with Destiny There is no change ! " Yes, these the awful words (Re-enter JASON.) That thrill my frame, and make rny purpose sick, But cannot shake it ! JASON. Bless thee for those words ! And thou shalt bless them through a happy life ! But see, our friends approach ; we must be gone ! MEDEA. A moment ! O my country, must I leave thee, Leave thee for ever ? Ah, I never knew Till now how strong the love I bore to thee ! For the last time my swelling heart breathes forth Its sighs of anguish on my country s airs ! My native earth, receive thy daughter s knee ! For the last time her falling tears bedew Thy much-loved breast. JASON (urging her away). Medea ! MEDEA. Ah, my country ! (Enter ABSYRTUS.) MEDEA. 29 ABSYRTUS. You pass not here ! MEDEA. My brother ! We re betrayed ! JASON. Vain boy, give way, nor place thy stripling form In opposition to a warrior s might ! MEDEA. My brother, Jason ! ABSYRTUS. Stripling as I am, The bow I bear can send its messenger Through manhood s heart ! One step, it enters thine ! JASON. Dost threaten me ? MEDEA. Stay, Jason, I implore ! Absyrtus, why art thou mine enemy ? ABSYRTUS. Am I my sister s enemy because I am my father s friend ? MEDEA. Though thy rebuke Hath show of justice, reason sees t is void ; And yet it brings renewal of a pang Thou mightst have spared me, for too well thou know st My father never loved me. 30 MEDEA. ABSYRTUS. Now so great His love for thee, he comes to stay thy flight ! JASON. Delay is death ! MEDEA. Hold ! Brother, by our love, Stand back ! Jason for my sake spares thy life, At peril of his own. Yield, I beseech thee. JASON. Withhold me not, Medea ! Nay, fear not For him or me ; I would not harm the boy For Colchis crown, and for his childish threats, Rate them as breath. MEDEA. They come ! Brother, be wise ! Yield thou the path, lest desperation prompt A deed whose blackness shall make Night recoil, And wrap the land in deeper gloom than hers ! ABSYRTUS. I tell thee, no ! he shall not pass alive ! JASON. What, boy, thou It prove a warrior ; but thy conquests Must not begin with me ! ( Wrests the bow from him.) Ha ! torches moving ! Stay ! borne by friends or foes ? MEDEA. 31 ABSYRTUS (attempting to stab him from behind). This from thy foe ! MEDEA (interposing, plunges a knife into ABSYRTUS S breast; he falls). Remorseless Furies ! What a deed is this ! (Sinks into JASON S arms. Enter LYCUS and IANTHE on one side ; on the oilier the ARGONAUTS.) 32 MEDEA. ACT III. Corinth. A lapse of ten years supposed from the date of Act II. SCENE I. The vestibule of the palace O/CREON, king of Corinth. Enter LYCUS and DIRCETIS. LYCUS. GODS, can it be ? He woo another bride ! DIRCETIS. Why dost thou doubt me ? Of Medea s wrongs Wouldst thou be witness ? Thou shalt hear thy lord Woo the king s daughter with persuasive tongue. LYCUS. Jove, dost thou see this treachery ? Hapless dame ! To punish Jason s enemies she sped To far lolcos, nor divined that foes To her more dire remained at Corinth. She Who ten long years shared Jason s wanderings And soothed his cares ! O foul dissembler ! he With fond embraces greeted her return, And hailed the gods with thanks. How could she doubt His constancy ! Yet, outcast from his love, She must behold the claims of wife and mother Crushed by a rival ! MEDEA. 33 DIRCET1S. Pity for her wrongs Prompted my speech. I, too, am foreign here, And know what pangs a stranger must endure, Bereft of friends. But see where Jason comes. Retire ; his words will soon attest my truth. [Exeunt. (Enter JASON and ICARUS.) ICARUS. Is Jason, at this joyous season, sad ? What gratitude from men may gods expect, If he, on whom their choicest gifts they shower, Repay their smiles with frowns ? JASON. Knows not my friend, The gods bestow no good without alloy ? ICARUS. By Hymen, whom thy discontent insults, I blame thy folly ! What hath Heaven withheld ? When from usurping Pelias you fled, Here did the gods appoint a safe retreat, And Creon, Corinth s king, inspired by them, Received the exile with a father s love. JASON. Have I denied the reverence of a son, Or. from the favoring powers the sacrifice Due to their grace withheld ? 5 34 MEDEA. ICARUS. New favors call For present thanks ; thou who so late receivedst The fair Creusa from her royal sire Shouldst talk of no alloy in happiness. A king s alliance, and a royal bride ! Yet who that saw thy brow o ercast with gloom Would think thou wert thus blest ? JASON. Cease, cease, my friend ! The gods bear witness that my gratitude Keeps measure with their bounty ! Yet my heart Forebodes, midst present blessings, future ill. Though thou recall st my promised royal bride, Divorced Medea drives her from my thoughts ; My fancy paints Creusa s beaming smile Chased by Medea s frown, and, e en amid The hymeneal songs, her vengeful cries Will seem to reach my ears. ICARUS. Does Jason s heart Sink neath such fantasies ? What canst thou fear From her, who for thy love resigned each tie Of Nature s framing ? JASON. Nay, thou know st her not ! As she resigned each native tie for love, So will she rend each fibre which that love MEDEA. 35 Has twined around her heart, as sacrifice Meet for the altar of Revenge, ere fail To win the ruthless deity. But cease ! She comes whose ear such converse must not meet. (Enter CREUSA.) Welcome, bright queen of Jason s heart ! But say, Why is thy cheek thus pale, and why do tears Bedim the lustre of thine eyes ? CREUSA. Alas ! Divin st thou not the cause ? She has returned Whose rage I dread, whose name I scarce dare speak. JASON. Why doth Creusa fear ? Hath Jason s love No power to chase such terrors ? Hath thy heart More dread of her than confidence in me ? CREUSA. Jason, forgive my tears ! They flow for thee, My father, and myself. Nor strength nor skill Avail against Medea s arts. She comes, With hands imbrued in Pelias blood. Gainst me How will her jealous wrath now burn ! Alas ! I blame her not ; for have I not won him, To lose whose love were death to me ? Shouldst thou, A few years hence, e er turn from me as now From her JASON. No, by the Queen of Heaven ! 36 MEDEA. CREUSA. The oath Was once Medea s ; she believed, as I do. JASON. My youthful fancy to Medea s charms Fell captive, for in her I loved my life, Which she alone could save ; a star of hope She rose above the gloomy cave of death, And marked with friendly beam the path of safety. I saw, obeyed, and triumphed ; but my heart No ruler knew, until Creusa s glance Subdued its freedom. CREUSA. What revenge will seem Too dire for this desertion ? What revenge On me, my father, thee, perchance, but no ! Thee she could never harm ! Hath she one spark Of woman s nature neath a woman s breast, Although her wrath could devastate the world, Above the ponderous ruin Jason still Would stand in safety. If she ever loved, She could not hate thee. JASON. Let thy idle fears For me and for thyself fade with that thought. CREUSA. Icarus, dost thou call my terrors idle ? MEDEA. 37 ICARUS. Ay, lady ; think st thou that a woman s arm Can reach this palace, penetrate the shield A father s and a lover s care presents, To plant the avenging knife within thy heart ? CREUSA. You smile : t is true ; I fear I know not what. Adieu ; I 11 teach myself to think with ye. JASON. The gods protect thee, gentle one ! CREUSA. And thee ! [Exit. JASON. A. harder task remains, Medea s wrath To rouse, and to restrain ; if that the last Lie in the compass of a mortal s skill ; If not, why, let her rage ! Creusa s charms, The king s alliance, all combine to urge My purposed nuptials. Creusa s love Hath chased the gloom that gathered round my heart. The future to the gods ! be mine the present ! [Exeunt. SCENE II. An apartment in the palace of JASON. MEDEA and IAN THE. IANTHE. PRINCESS, to-day ten circling years have fled Since we left Colchis. 38 MEDEA. MEDEA. Think st thou I forget, Because my tongue no telltale echo gives Of my heart s converse ? IANTHE. I but thought how great The changes Time hath made in ten years flight. MEDEA. Ten vanished years ! each year replete with bliss ! And Jason still is fond and faithful, still Gazes upon me with a lover s eye, Raves of my beauty with a lover s tongue ; Still is as grateful for his wife s devotion, As when from earthly foes and magic snares Her power first rescued him. What hath that wife To ask of earth or heaven, beyond the gift Of such a husband, loving and beloved ? IANTHE. And dost thou spare, amid this happiness, No recollection to thy native land ? MEDEA. Ah, many a tender thought flies back to thee, My childhood s home, much loved, though rude ! Ten years ! Why, I was but a child then, Nature s child, With no delight beyond that mother s face, Making her mysteries familiar things. I thought I had scanned all ; but Jason came, MEDEA. 39 And his eye was my tutor in a page Which till that hour I had passed idly by. IANTHE. How thou hast proved the beauty of that page, A wondering world bears witness. Constancy, Wisdom, devotion, all have but one aim, Unfaltering tributaries to thy love ! MEDEA. Love is my life ! and should I not give all The treasures which the gods have granted me, To feed its sacred and mysterious flame ? IANTHE. E en if the flame should mount, with tyrant power, And, mid her rites, consume the priestess ? MEDEA. Ay, To keep the flame undying I would yield My life rather than live to see it wane, Expire, and leave my heart to dark despair ! Gods, e er I know the agony to live Unloved of him who sways my every thought, O, snatch my life, and I will bless the stroke ! IANTHE. Did I not know thy soul, I should exclaim, A wife of yesterday might dream such dreams ! MEDEA. A wife of yesterday ! Hath Love with Time Such close alliance, that old age to both 40 MEDEA. Comes with the same alloy of clouds, and cares, And chill indifference to mortal joys ? Ah, no ! Time is but for the form we wear ; Love is the soul, which hath no bonds with Time. For ever young, with wing untamed, he soars On to the future, sorrow, care, and death Made radiant by his smile. IANTHE. Such love as this E en Love himself knows not ! MEDEA. So Jason read it in Medea s heart, And feel it in his own, I care not, though The god to Lethe s waves consign his shafts, And leave the world to friendship s calmer reign. (Enter JASON.) JASON. What, doth Medea ask for Friendship s reign ? MEDEA. Not while Love s flame survives in Jason s breast. JASON. If that expire ? MEDEA. Expire ! The gods forbid ! JASON. Nay, start not at a jest ! MEDEA. Will my lord jest MEDEA. 41 On such a theme ? As well mightst thou lay bare This heart, thine altar, tear it from its place, And cast it quivering from thy grasp to earth, As jest thus of a tie to me so dear, So sacred, that to sever it would be To loose each human feeling from my breast, To make me desperate, outcast from my kind, Hating myself, the world, and thee ! JASON. Even so ! [Aside. Thou paint st a Fury s, not a woman s, love ! But let not fancy torture thee ; the world Hath real ills enough. MEDEA. But not for me ! I dread, I know no ill when thou art by. Exile and want, disgrace, the hate of men, And wrath of gods, I could endure, nor waste A care on them, so Jason lived and loved ! JASON. The fiend Remorse is busy at my heart. Can I again inspire such love, or lives A woman, save Medea, in whose soul A passion ardent, pure, as this can burn ? [Aside. MEDEA. My lord, why on this day is thy brow sad ? JASON. Men oft have cares which women need not share. 6 42 MEDEA. MEDEA. Hath Jason cares Medea cannot share ? Ah ! strange and heavy should that sorrow be Which clouds thy heart from mine. Why speak st thou not ? Since first our fates were joined, Ne er hast thou known a care or braved a toil Which by my love has not been lighter made, Or vanquished by my skill. JASON. Medea, list ! Not grateful is it to a warrior s ear, That even a wife should boast her benefits : Remembrance is his part, and silence hers. MEDEA. Thou know st that mine is not the ignoble soul Which prompts a boaster s tongue. I boast of naught Save of thy love, which made me what I am, Thy equal partner, not thy household slave, As Grecian dames to Grecian lords must be, But worthy deemed by thee to aid thy councils, To share thy wanderings, and assuage thy woes. I boast my husband when I talk of these. Tell me, what care oppresses thee ? JASON. Not long Wilt thou remain in ignorance. MEDEA. I felt MEDEA. 43 Thou couldst not long exclude me from thy heart. Why does the darkness deepen on thy brow ? Thou rt ill ! Thou canst not hide it from thy wife, From her, who, taught by love, reads in thy glance Each shade of joy and pain. Surely thou rt ill ! JASON. Not ill, Medea, not oppressed with cares Beyond my own poor skill to overcome. Content thee, thou mistak st. MEDEA. I am content, If for Medea s sake thou It clear thy brow, And greet this day with smiles. JASON. And why this day ? MEDEA. Is Jason s heart so changed, that he forgets The day which once he hailed with fondest joy ? If thou forgett st, ah ! why should I remember That on this day I fled my native shores, My father s court, where I was as a queen, Left all for Love, and in his smile found all ? JASON. True ; and e en then thou didst not look more fair, Nor fell thy words more sweetly on my ear, Than now, when lip and eye speak soft reproach ! MEDEA. O, not reproach ! Thee I could ne er reproach ! 44 MEDEA. JASON. Mayst thou think ever thus ! I have essayed A task beyond my power ; to others lips I must commit it. (Aside.) Fare thee well awhile. The king requires my presence at the palace. MEDEA. Wilt thou not give this day to me ? JASON. The king Is our protector, friend ; would it be well To let his wishes pass unheeded ? MEDEA. Go; I would not counsel thee ingratitude. But thou wilt see our sons ? JASON. It matters not ; I shall return ere long. [Exit. MEDEA. Methinks I hear Their voices. Go, lanthe, bid them wait. [Exit IANTHE. " It matters not ! " Why do those careless words Sink in my heart like the stern voice of some Ill-boding oracle ? "It matters not ! " Ah, could I think his heart dictated them ! [Exit. MEDEA. 45 ACT IV. SCENE I. The palace of JASON. MEDEA and IANTHE. MEDEA. MY husband loves another, and I hear it, Yet cannot die, and cheat the avenging fiends Who hurl this venomed serpent at my breast ! IANTHE. Nay, princess, yield thee not to such despair ; Reject not hope so rashly. MEDEA. Cease, Ian the ! Talk not of hope to me ! talk of despair, Of madness, hate, revenge, of every fiend The envious gods let loose upon mankind ! IANTHE. Dear lady, call to mind past happiness. MEDEA. I have no memory save for misery. Rememberest thou that night of bliss, of woe, When from my native shores our vessel sped ? Gods ! had mine been like other mortal hearts, That night had seen its last convulsive throb ! 46 MEDEA. Still doth imagination picture him, My much-loved brother, writhing at my feet. Ah ! why did Fate assign my hand a task Which nature, reason, and my sex forbade ? Ten years ! It cannot be ! t was yesterday ! If it were not, would he lie bleeding there, A sister s weapon in the ghastly wound ? IANTHE. Dear lady, shake these horrid fancies off. MEDEA. Release me, let me seize the telltale steel ! My father must not know Medea s hand Thus, with a Fury s grasp, hath dashed to earth His fondest hopes ! Ah ! whither has it fled ? lanthe, didst thou not behold IANTHE. Nothing, Dear lady, nothing ! MEDEA. Was it madness, then ? Jove, leave me reason, though it only serve T enhance the ills you shower on me ! T is past ! IANTHE. Thank Heaven ! O princess, calm this frenzied grief ! MEDEA. Thou talk st to me of calmness ! Hadst thou known The wrongs that I sustain, hadst thou e er laid Home, country, friends, thought, feeling, kindred blood, MEDEA. 47 Upon Love s altar with unfaltering hand, And seen the gifts received but to be spurned, Nor with thy clamor roused earth, heaven, and hell, Then mightst thou argue thus, and I would hear ; But now I could go mad, and rend the air With maniac shrieks, and call aloud on Death To end this woe, for Jason was my life. IANTHE. Calm thee, till he appear ; trust not the tale From any lips save his. Thy agony, The love which prompts it, and thy matchless charms, Will chase this passing folly ; he will be Again thine own. MEDEA. Never ! by Juno s self ! The temple which Love reared within my heart Was based on honor ; Jason has destroyed The glorious pedestal ; prone to the earth The baseless fabric, with its inmate, falls, Nor leaves a vestige by which man can say, Here dwelt the heart s great tyrant. With the fall Earth shall resound, all hell start back aghast ; For crushed and writhing neath the ponderous mass My foes shall lie. IANTHE. Cease, dearest lady, cease These vengeful threats ! Ere this, to Creon s ear Some busy foe hath borne thy frenzied cries. 48 MEDEA. Rouse not his fears, lest with tyrannic hand He crush thy sons, thyself. MEDEA. Let him essay ! IANTHE. Nay, if not prudence, let thy pride restrain thee. Grant not the triumph to thy foes to see Medea, empress of her sex, o erwhelmed Beneath their treachery. MEDEA. Through all things else I have been more than woman ! Can I now, In outraged nature s agony, be less ? The partial gods assign no blest abode On Lethe s banks for woman ; yet she finds In Love s protecting arms Elysium, Nor asks a bliss beyond ; but cast from thence, Say, whither shall she fly ? Despair in front, On each side hatred and revenge ! above, Dire madness hovers, and his hissing snakes Cling to her brain, and goad her on to frenzy ! IANTHE. Cease, lady ; steps approach ! It is the king ! Frowns clothe his brow MEDEA. The king ! What would he here ? (Enter CREON.) Why do pride, pomp, and power approach the abode MEDEA. 49 Of desolation ? Say, what would the king Of one so humble ? CREON. Doth Medea own League with humility ? Thy scorn-wreathed lip, Thine eye gleaming with hate, too well betray The soul within, e en had thy words been slow To show thy treachery. MEDEA. Treachery, Creon ! CREON. Ay. Thy vengeful ravings, by a faithful tongue Borne to my ear, are treachery to me, Whose walls received, whose power protected, thee, When suppliant thou sought st what I bestowed, A kingly hospitality. MEDEA. Jove, shall I hear In silence taunts like these ? Do monarchs stoop To barter hospitality ? If so, May Heaven bear witness at how dear a rate Thy kingly aid is prized ! Henceforth sink pride, And perish generosity ! Let shame And maiden modesty no more abide In Corinth s walls, since Corinth s monarch holds No memory of the first, and for the last, 7 50 MEDEA. Let bards relate how Corinth s princess wooed And won Medea s lord ! CREON. Rail, haughty dame, But bear thy clamors far from Corinth ; go, Seek with thy sons a new abode. Hear st thou ? Thou art an exile. MEDEA. Creon ! CREON. It is fixed. MEDEA. Lost ! lost ! (Aside.) Monarch, once more thy suppliant Behold me ! How have I deserved this doom ? What is my crime ? CREON. Thy threats of vengeance gainst My daughter and myself. Thy former acts Attest thee bold and resolute ; both swift To plan, and prompt to execute, the deeds Thy rage inspired. There is no change In thy proud spirit ; thou hast sworn to wreak Ruin on me and on my house. Fly hence ! Thy life is in my power ; I but command Thy absence. MEDEA. Doth the king of Corinth fear A woman ? Compassed by rank, power, and wealth, MEDEA. 51 Had I the will, where should I find the means To pass those mighty barriers ? With no friends To raise the cry of vengeance for my sake, No warriors at my call, nor wealth have I To purchase them, how could I injure thee ? My sole reliance this weak woman s hand, This hand, which, fatal only to myself, Each native tie hath severed ! Alien From my own land, and exiled now from thine, Alone I stand. Fear not, but pity me ! Poor, friendless, broken-hearted, desolate ! CREON. Lady, the strength which lies in manhood s arm Hath never caused me fear ; how then should thine ? Thy dangerous wisdom, superhuman arts, I dread, and will avoid. MEDEA. Unhappy me ! Let not my frantic ravings steel thy heart Against my woes ! Have I not cause for frenzy ? If in my agony my tongue o erleaped The bounds of wisdom, canst thou not forgive A maniac s unmeaning rashness ? CREON. Rise, Nor hope to shake me ; it is wisdom s part To strangle danger in its birth, nor, led By ill-placed confidence or timeless pity, 52 MEDEA. Delay until it rise in giant strength, Defy our grasp, and hurl us to destruction. MEDEA. As thou hast said, I am within thy power ; But yet, my lord, reflect how it may stand With thine own honor to deprive me thus, In wanton cruelty, of the sole good Fate leaves me, shelter for myself and sons. I cannot need it long ; grant but a day, One day, to think which way my steps should turn ! CREON. Ask not an hour ; I will not give it thee. MEDEA. I do not ask thy pity for myself ; I need it not. What matters it to me, That the gods pour the tempests of the air Upon my head ? Commotion wilder far Must ever rage within. Think not I care Or when or where I drain the cup of life So early poisoned ; better at once to do t, Than drag a miserable chain of years In hopeless agonies ! But for my sons, Have pity on them, they are fatherless ! Turn not away, for thou hast children ; thou Hast seen thy babes cling to a mother s breast ; Hast seen that mother s eyes bedewed with tears, Born from excess of rapture ! Paint to thyself That mother and those sons by strangers hands MEDEA. 53 Torn rudely from their home ; exposed, alas ! To the cold gaze of an unfeeling world ; To woe and want, perchance to death ; then steel Thy heart against a mother s cries ! Thou canst not ! Creon, by all the gods, grant me this day ! CREON. Thou hast prevailed ! Receive thy boon ; " but mark, That if to-morrow s dawn behold thee here Thy sons, with thee, shall die ! " * It is decreed. MEDEA. Dread monarch, thanks ! (Exit CREON.) " Rouse thee, Medea ! wake Thy deepest science ! meditate, devise ! Call forth thy terrible power ! The contest now Demands a daring spirit ! " In the hour Of their insulting triumph, let thy foes Learn to distinguish twixt a dame of Greece, Submissive to her tyrant lord s decrees, And her from Phoebus sprung, the tameless Colchian, Whose hand shall " vindicate her glorious birth " ! [Exit. The lines within quotation marks are from the Medea of Euripides. 54 MEDEA. SCENE II. CREON S palace. Enter JASON and CREUSA. JASON. No more alarms, my fair ; thy prudent sire, To rid thy breast of every fear, hath doomed Her whom thou dread st to exile ; she will turn Her steps from Corinth s walls, nor evermore With jealous ravings mar thy peace. CREUSA. And thou ? Will no regrets Nay, frown not ! Canst thou think I doubt thy love ? I could not, though the world Proclaimed thee suitor for my father s power, And not his daughter s heart. JASON. And who has dared CREUSA. Nay, nay ! t was but a slave, a spoiled attendant, Whose love for me prompted her jealous fears. The king approaches. (Enter CREON.) Father, dost thou bring Assurance of my peace and safety ? Ah ! You pause ! My father, say not t is delayed ! CREON. But for a day. MEDEA. 55 CREUSA. Thy daughter s happiness May hang upon that day. CREON. Thou tak st it gravely ; But let it not be said the daughter s heart Was sterner than her sire s. Medea s tears, Her supplications, swayed my too harsh purpose. She prayed but for a day, a single day, To frame some plan ; not for herself, but for Her tender sons, with moving words, and looks More moving, she besought my pity ; prayed I would not, through my fears of her, cast them, Thus unprovided, on a heartless world. JASON. My children ! No ! no power shall rend them from me. [Aside. What more, my lord ? CREON. In very shame I yielded ; But warned the dame, that on the morrow s dawn She, with her sons, must leave this land or die. JASON. Creon, they are my sons ! They shall not go ! Let me behold in Corinth one so bold As harm those innocents ! Am I not he Who braved fierce ^Etes and his savage horde In search of fame ? Shall I not brave much more For them ? Here they remain ! 56 MEDEA. CREON. It cannot be ! Jason, dispute it not ; the king commands. JASON. No king s command shall make them fatherless ! CREON. That thine own act hath done ; and that thy sons Should now remain in Corinth, that within My house they should be trained, who, grown to manhood, Must prove its direst foes, would show me mad Beyond conception. JASON. Will they not be trained By me, thy grateful friend, thy son ? CREON. Ere this They know their mother s rage and hate ; its cause. Shouldst thou retain them here, they first receive Her lessons of revenge, bear them in mind, Despite all other teaching, till the hour Occasion marks for vengeance bids them rise In hot rebellion for Medea s sake, Foment foul discord in my realm ; perchance In ruin whelm my house ! JASON. Yet they are mine. CREON. But wouldst thou rend them from their mother s arms ? MEDEA. 57 If she must fly, make her not desolate Of all life s blessings. Leave her sons ; their smiles Will calm her rage, their innocent caresses Soften her harsh resolves ; to her heart s fever They best can minister. JASON. Spoke she of me ? CREON. No. JASON. Didst thou deem her grief or rage most strong ? CREON. Sunk in despair she seemed, her every thought Centred upon her sons, condemned, perchance, To bitter want. JASON. That fear no more must rack her. CREUSA. No ; let the treasures of the royal house Be showered upon Medea. Wealth will purchase Home, country, friends. O, may she find them all Far, far from Corinth ! Whither goes my lord ? JASON. My sons demand my care. CREUSA. Trust not thyself In that fell woman s power ! A messenger Can do thy will. Can she not murder thee ? 8 58 MEDEA. JASON. Nay, nay, Creusa, check this folly. CREUSA. No! Thou must not go ! I cannot suffer it ! Thy wife, thy bride, implores ! JASON. My children s wants With stronger voice command me. Nay, weep not. Should I to menial hands intrust such charge, Medea would repel my offered aid As insult. Fare thee well. Surely no ill Can reach thee in my absence ; and for me, Trust thou my safety to Medea s love. [Exit. CREUSA. A mournful bride am I, who see my lord By such contending interests swayed. Alas, My father ! by thy mercy shown to her Thy daughter s heart is rent. CREON. Think not of it. T is but a day. How quickly will it pass ! [Exeunt. MEDEA. 59 SCENE III. In the palace of JASON. Enter LYCUS and IANTHE, meeting. LYCUS. How fares the princess, dear Ian the ? Say, Is she now calm ? IANTHE. No ; bathed in tears, she yields To grief more harrowing than her wildest rage. LYCUS. Alas ! who shall console her ? who withdraw The poisoned arrow from her heart, and heal The rankling wound ? Not Esculapius self ! But lo ! my lord approaches. IANTHE. Ha ! what seeks The traitor here ? Why, shameless, doth he come T inflict new torture, by his hateful presence, Upon his writhing victim ? LYCUS. Peace ! She comes ! (Enter MEDEA.) IANTHE. Dear lady ! LYCUS. Gracious princess ! 60 MEDEA. MEDEA. Faithful friends, Your presence mid this scene of desolation Brings back the phantom Hope, who else had fled This desecrated fane, my heart. I gaze On ye, and feel I am not yet alone. LYCUS. No, lady, we are still what we have been, Thy friends, thy servants, slaves, what thou wouldst have us, To live or die for thee. MEDEA. My thanks, good Lycus, All I can offer, thy fidelity Commands. A step familiar to my ear Approaches ; t is my lord s ! What said I ? His Who was my lord. O for a moment s respite ! (Motions LYCUS and IANTHE, who withdraw. Enter JASON.) My husband ! (He turns from her.) It is past, and I am marble ! (Aside.) Com st thou, a foe to Creon s lenity, To haste my flight from Corinth, with my sons ? JASON. Unjust ! Not I, but thine unbridled passion Hath caused thy exile. Thou, forsooth, must rave Of vengeance gainst the monarch whose strong arm So long hath shielded thee ; ingratitude Can claim no pity. But for this, my voice MEDEA. 61 Had been attended, and thou still hadst found A home in Corinth. Thy intemperate wrath Has raised suspicion gainst thee. Thou must fly ; Nor thou alone ; but, for their mother s folly, My sons must suffer. They must range with thee, Homeless and friendless. MEDEA. It is well ! Rail on ! Declare the wrongs I ve done thee ! Name each fault For which I owe atonement ! I, in meekness, As doth become a Grecian wife, will listen. JASON. This only will I say ; had thy rash tongue Yielded to reason s dictates, still my sons Had known a father s care, still hadst thou dwelt In peace and safety. MEDEA. No ! Think st thou my soul Is humbled by thy insults to endure That the same land should hold thy new-chosen bride And me, the outcast from thy love ? O, never ! Far rather would I dwell in endless night, The earth my couch, the heavens my canopy, The thunder-peal my music, the red flash Of angry Jove my torch, and savage beasts My sole companions ! JASON. Yet I would not wish 62 MEDEA. With thy barbaric tastes my sons infected. Here should they still have dwelt, here .grown to man hood, Sharing through my alliance with the king Each good that royalty bestows. By thee They suffer ; thy insensate ravings roused Wrath and suspicion in the king : " The sons Of such a mother must prove dangerous " MEDEA (interrupting). The king is wise ! most wise ! JASON. " We do not spare, In pity for their youth, the tigress whelps." Such answer made he to my prayer. MEDEA. Thy prayer ! Fervently urged, no doubt ! Nor would I wish My sons by thy ingratitude infected ; Their tender hearts, in the first bloom of youth, Poisoned by contact with thy perjured self. Better to dwell in poverty, with slaves Share toil and want, nor dream of higher birthright, Than to be trained the sycophants of courts, Neath the cold shadow of a step-dame s frown ! JASON. Nay, didst thou seek their good, not yielding thus To blinding rage and jealousy, thy wish Would be that Creon yet might grant their stay. MEDEA. 63 MEDEA. With me they go ! But whither ? " Ah, my country ! Now I remember thee," now toward thee Despairing cast my eyes ; for dare I hope A shelter in thy breast ? My father, too ! No smile of love on his stern lip would speak A welcome to his child ! False Greek ! for thee Have I betrayed my sire ! for thee I bathed My hands in kindred blood ! for thee I roam An outcast from the land where wealth and power Were slaves to me, where I was as a queen ! For thee I stooped from my high sphere, for thee Inured my woman s frame, my woman s heart, To toil and dangers ! How am I requited ? On my defenceless head are showered neglect, Falsehood, disgrace, and insult ! JASON. Who can stem The torrent of a woman s tongue ? Hadst thou The common reason of thy sex, thou hadst weighed With a more equal mind the good and evil, Which, as to all mankind, the Fates dispense To thee. I found thee in a savage land, Where men, more savage than their native wilds, Paid thee the blind obedience of fear ; Where a barbarian king, thy sire and tyrant, Ruled, as the lion rules his fellow-beasts. From that barbaric race, that land remote, 64 MEDEA. To Greece, the chosen seat of gods, I bore thee ; In that wild region hadst thou languished else, Obscure. Fame never stooped her pinion there ; But here thy name, thy wisdom, mighty deeds, Wide o er the land resound ; sages commend, And warriors hear with wonder. Thus, by me, Renown, far dearer to thy heart than love, Has crowned thy wish MEDEA. Ungrateful as thou art, And shameless ! Fame, renown ! talk st thou of these To me, who, for thy sake have sacrificed, Save life and reason, all ? I thank the gods, They leave me these for vengeance ! JASON. This it is Brings exile, with its evil, on thyself And sons. Yet poverty, midst other griefs, They must not know. Lady, at thy command Are all my treasures ; freely take such store As may seem needful. MEDEA. Deem st thou me so fallen A s to receive thy gold ? gold from the hand That spurns me ? Never ! Let me first endure The sharpest pang which nature s wants inflict, And starve ignobly, ere accept thy bounty ! (Enter IANTHE with the two children.) MEDEA. 65 IANTHE. O, let their smiles end this unnatural strife ! JASON. My sons I Thou wouldst not let them want ? MEDEA. With me They suffer what the gods inflict. Farewell. JASON. Woman, thy rashness tempts the gods. Art thou A mother, and thus reckless of their welfare, Whom thou shouldst prize above all other blessings ? Think not I will abandon them ; the king Shall grant my prayer ! MEDEA. And what will that avail thee ? JASON. Much ; here shall they remain. Can I intrust My sons to one so desperate ? No ! 1 11 snatch From thy unnatural arms their tender frames. MEDEA. Sport with the thunder, and defy the lightning, They may be merciful ; but tempt no more Medea s wrath ! (Exeunt MEDEA, IANTHE, and children.) JASON. Infuriate as thou art, Place not the sufferings which thy stubborn spirit Now dooms thee to endure to Jason s charge ! [Exit. 9 66 MEDEA. SCENE IV. In the palace of CREON. Enter CREON and CREUSA. CREUSA. NOT yet returned ! Not yet ! Alas ! strange fears Thicken around my heart ; unbidden tears Gush from my eyes. Avert the ornen, gods ! CREON. Why thus afflict thyself ? This day, to which Thy terrors cling, sinks neath the western wave. CREUSA. Slowly to my impatient eye it sinks. Fate hangs on Phcebus chariot-wheels, and stays His fiery-footed coursers. CREON. And with Fate Nor prayers nor tears avail. Go then, my daughter, Array thee for the banquet, and await Thy lord s return in patience. CREUSA. Patience, father ! Patience befits a slave. It is allied To dull indifference. They, who never knew The smile of happiness, could never feel The pangs which I endure, whose aching heart Fears lest each moment, as it onward flies MEDEA. 67 On its swift wings, should bear some gloomy cloud To veil that smile for ever. Even now Jason may writhe beneath some horrid spell Or fatal poison ! Who shall rescue him ? Is not that dire enchantress versed in charms To shorten life ? What human power can bid Defiance to her skill ? Why lingers he ? Doth she still love him ? Then, perchance, her wiles, Her tears, her glowing beauty, have ensnared Again his heart ; perchance e en now he vows Fidelity anew, and flies with her From Corinth and Creusa, self-exiled ! O falsehood worse than death ! CREON. Have I not said, What Fate decrees no mortal can escape ? Banish thy fears. To be a warrior s bride, To train a warrior s sons, befits not her Whose heart falls captive to each fancied ill, And shrinks in coward weakness from the glance Of dark Misfortune, whom the gods ordain The monitor of mortals. Go ; let hope Drive from thy breast despondency. (Exit CREUSA.) Her fears, Despite my reason, sink into my heart. Medea s prayer I granted ; shame forbade That I a man, a monarch should refuse 68 MEDEA. A boon so slight ; such sternness had appeared A wanton cruelty. Could I confess My fears enforced me to t ? Day vanishes, Yet Jason lingers. May the gods protect him ! [Exit. SCENE V. Palace of JASON. LYCUS and IANTHE. LYCUS. I THANK the gods, Medea smiles again ! IANTHE. So do not I. Trust me, there s danger in t. LYCUS. Nay, but she spoke of reconciliation. IANTHE. Strange ! can her brain But no, she 11 be herself Though all the world with Corinth league against her. Do thou her bidding, be thy life the forfeit. LYCUS. In that I am her slave. She comes. (Enter MEDEA.) Dear lady, The gods give comfort to thy heart ! MEDEA. They do, Good Lycus. Peace begins to fold again Her white wings o er my breast. I pray thee bear MEDEA. 69 Such message to my lord ; say, t is my prayer He will return to take my last farewell, And grant my pardon for the late offences Of an unbridled tongue ; and for my sons I would entreat his care ; bid him forget Their mother s folly, and, for their dear sakes, Attend me here. Haste, for time wanes apace. (Exit LYCUS.) IANTHE. Ay, lady, few and short the hours of safety Allotted us in Corinth. MEDEA. Us, lanthe ! IANTHE. Us, lady. Nay, look not so sadly on me. My husband and myself, by thee enfranchised, Are still the slaves of gratitude ; with thee In cities or in deserts we abide ; With thee we share whate er the Fates decree, Danger, or toil, or death. If to the first Thou 7 rt doomed, why is the arm of Lycus strong, If not to ward it from thee ? If to toil, Our hands and hearts shall meet it ; if to death, Alone thou shalt not tread that gloomy path ; We follow through its shades MEDEA. This, this is friendship ! To suffer such a sacrifice would prove 70 MEDEA. Me base as thou art pure ! Ah, no, lanthe ! The path which I have chosen too rugged, steep, Too full of dangers, is for mortal foot, Save mine, to press ; no friend may share it with me. Didst thou but dream its horrors, thou wouldst start From sleep as from an enemy, and dread To gaze around thee, lest thy sight be blasted By fiends and furies poured from Tartarus, T inspire the monstrous vision. IANTHE. No, Medea ; Earth cannot show the danger whose stern front Would awe me from thy side ; my heart might quail, T is true, but not my faith. Then, dearest lady, Let me still follow thee ! MEDEA. Think not of it ! E en I, who never knew dismay, could shrink From the dire view, and supplicate the gods To shroud it in its native gloom ! But no ! Each moment, in distinctness more appalling, It grows before me, till its gorgon shapes Transform my heart to marble ! IANTHE. Ah, my princess ! Thy words are gloomy, but the fire of vengeance Gleams from thine eyes, betraying to my view The thought which fills thy soul ; thou meditat st MEDEA. \ 71 Revenge as mighty as thy wrongs ! MEDEA. Forget That I have spoken, that thou hast dared divine My purposes ! Go, call my children hither. IANTHE. Thy children, lady ? MEDEA. Ay, my precious boys, Whom I had hoped to see their father train To serve the god of wars ! But mortal hope, Mortal presumption, Heaven delights to check, Lest the strong tide of earthly happiness Sweep from our hearts remembrance of the gods From whom our blessings flow. Didst thou not hear My will ? IANTHE. Thy pardon, lady, but I feared MEDEA. What dost thou fear ? What darest thou fear ? lanthe, I brook no scrutiny ! Yet stay, thy love Commands my confidence. Shall I go forth To misery whilst from my shattered hopes Another s bliss is springing, another s heart Securely triumphing in Jason s love, Another s charms receiving Jason s homage, Another s form in confidence reposing On his protecting arm ? The thought is madness ! 72 MEDEA. This new-made bride and her tyrannic sire Deem me their victim ! Let them dream so ! soon My hand shall chase the sweet delusion. Say, Is it not right ? IANTHE. Else would thy foes and friends Esteem thy vaunted courage, skill, and power As vanished quite, or thy strong soul subdued Beneath these wrongs. MEDEA. Such doubts shall ne er be theirs. A poison of such agonizing power As that which racked Alcides iron frame I have prepared ; to the Corinthian bride Gifts will I send with this imbued ; and when These glittering snares adorn her form, fierce pangs And sudden death ensue. Go now, lanthe ; By my sons hands will I despatch the casket Which holds my sure but unseen vengeance. Go. IANTHE. For thine own safety, hast thou thought on that ? Thy children, too, who shall preserve their lives ? Their blood and thine must flow in expiation. MEDEA. " Hath life a blessing " left, that 1 should fear The stroke that brings forgetfulness of ill ? Yet, though T dread no death they could inflict, Shall my foes boast that proud Medea s life MEDEA. 73 Was yielded to their power ? Never ! The gods Inspire me with a higher hope, and point A refuge far from hostile Corinth. Go ! (Exit IANTHE.) Can she suspect ? Are my soul s agonies So stamped upon my face, that those who gaze Read the dire thoughts within ? Alas ! alas ! O erburdened Nature doth avenge herself By such betrayal of the wrongs she suffers. Yet with self-torture must I buy revenge, Or live, the mockery of my foes. My skill Hath for this royal bride framed pangs as dire As hell itself can boast. He, whose false heart First caused my woes, shall he escape ? Great Themis, With thy stern power inspire me ! He shall live To stand, like me, midst desolation, live, Till the pure air seems burdened with a curse, The curse of hopeless life. O vengeance ! No mean sacrifice thy voice Demands, yet to thy ensanguined shrine all, all Thou canst require, I bring. My sons ! my sons ! (Enter the children.) SONS. Dear mother ! MEDEA. Gods ! have ye no mercy ? none ? SONS. Do not weep, mother ! When our father comes 10 74 MEDEA. He 11 think we have grieved you, and will then be angry ; For he has said, if we would have him love us We must not give you pain ; and then he told us How you preserved his life from cruel men Who would have murdered him, had you not loved And taught him how to shun their snares. MEDEA. Cease ! cease ! FIRST SON. O mother, do not look so strangely on us ! When will my father come ? If you are troubled He will 1 console you. Why does he go from us So oft, and stay so long ? T is almost night. MEDEA. Quite night ! a night no sun shall e er dispel. Poor boys ! you know not the funereal gloom Which o erhangs ye, frightful, endless night ! SECOND SON. But when our father comes we shall not mind it ; For I have heard you say his smile could chase All darkness from your mind. MEDEA. My son, my son, Wouldst thou distract me ? Jason s smile ! Alas ! No longer doth it beam for us. O traitor ! Doth he deserve a son ? No. Let my hand, By justice armed, sweep from his sight each hope ! Ah, wretched mother ! where are then thine own ? MEDEA. 75 Come to my heart, my sons, your only home ! O hapless babes ! ye smile in the embrace Of misery, unconscious that the wretch To whom you cling, the daughter, wife, and mother Of princes, hath no shelter for your youth, No bulwark for your safety, but these arms ! Yet can I cast ye thence ? Ah, no, my sons ! Though wretched, outcast from my husband s love, There is a strange relenting in my heart Which whispers, " live for these, and in their smiles Find hope." I yield, and am again a mother ! Why, to wound Jason s peace, should I inflict Upon myself a wound more deadly far ? Far from these hostile walls we 11 fly. But how Or whither ? How preserve my sons from want And danger ? Should death seize me on the way, Must they not perish ? Who, in all this land, Would look with pity on Medea s sons ? To fly with them is madness, but to leave them Here, mid my foes, despair ; for those who see The royal house destroyed beneath my hands In their hot wrath would crush these helpless ones. No, by the gods ! Within their tender limbs Courses the blood of princes ! T is not fit That the rude touch of an ignoble foe Pollute these scions of a race of kings ! Nor can my soul permit a hated Greek To triumph o er Medea s slaughtered sons. 76 MEDEA. " By me who gave them life death shall be given ! " Are the gods just, who make oblivion The last, best gift a mother can bestow Upon her sons ? No ! Ye who proudly sit In cloudless glory on Olympus height, Who revel in the pleasures and the crimes Of man, your slave, yet on his frailties heap Sorrow and suffering, I defy ye all ! Strong in despair I stand ! My children s blood Shall flow, libation grateful to the fiends Who goad my heart to frenzy ! Why not now ? Why not at once escape the ills that close Like waves around me ? (Drawing a dagger from her dress.) Steel, upon whose point The lurid fires of vengeance seem to play, And menace, as they gleam, my tardy hand, No longer shalt thou thirst ! Thy magic touch Shall free my sons and me ! To thy embrace My full heart leaps FIRST SON. Mother, dear mother, Give me that knife. MEDEA. What wouldst thou with it, boy ? SON. Keep until I am a warrior, then Strike to the heart that cruel king of Corinth MEDEA. 77 Who spoke uncivil words to you this morning ! Give me the knife ! MEDEA. Take it and live, for vengeance ! Go, my beloved ones, hasten to lanthe, And bid her send me, by your hands, a casket, Which on my couch she 11 find. (Exeunt SONS.) T is Jason comes, His heavy tread the index of his heart. Not such the step with which my lord once came ! (Enter JASON.) JASON. " I come at thy request, for though " thy rage Burn against me, my aim is still to serve thee. Whate er thy wish, Medea, name it ; I Stand eager to fulfil it. MEDEA. My first wish Is thy forgiveness, Jason, for the passion, Unjust, imprudent, which I nursed against thee. J T is past ; calm reason hath resumed her reign Within my mind, and I have schooled myself To own the wisdom of thy new alliance. " O, be not thou like me perverse ! " I own The error of my judgment. We have loved. O, by the memory of those days, when love Was peace to us, though all the world breathed war, Forgive my selfish rage ! 78 MEDEA. JASON. All is forgiven ; Nor do I blame thee for the past ; it is A woman s part to watch o er household ties, And when by jealous fury warmed, forget That love should yield to reason. MEDEA. Treacherous Greek, Where wert thou now had I remembered that ? [Aside. JASON. These better counsels show that Time hath led Reason in triumph to her seat, and prove Thee wise beyond thy sex. MEDEA. And see. our sons ! Come forth, my dear ones, haste, embrace your father. (JReenter the children. They place a casket in their mother s hand.) " Ah me ! the thought of some concealed ill Cornes o er my heart. Will you, my sons, live long To stretch your dear hands thus ? Unhappy me ! These eyes have lately learned to weep, this heart To know what fear is." JASON. Nay, subdue thy fears, Nor doubt my cares for them. My noble boys, The gods consenting, I shall yet behold Ye great and glorious in the state of Corinth. " O, may I see you blooming in the pride MEDEA. 79 Of manhood, and to every virtue trained Superior to my foes ! But why is this ? Why stands the moist tear trembling in thine eye ? Why is thy pale cheek turned aside, as if Thine ear received my words unwillingly ? " MEDEA. " T is nothing ; I was thinking of my sons." JASON. " Be cheered ; their welfare is my dearest care." MEDEA. u I will be cheered, and trust thee ; yet I am A woman, and by nature prone to tears." JASON. " Why o er thy sons with such excess of grief" Dost thou now bend ? MEDEA. 4 ( I am their mother ; when Thy wish was breathed that they might live," my heart Throbbed e en to bursting, as the doubt arose Whether the gods would grant a wretch like me A boon so precious. Yet, my lord, of thee The favor next in value to their lives I would implore. In this Corinthian land I may not dwell, and though the king s command Exiles my sons with me, let not his wrath, Let not my folly, tempt thee to desert them. O, let them live beneath thy care ! Not when To manhood grown will they require thy aid, 80 MEDEA. Thy watchful eye, thy love, and thy protection, But now. Entreat the king revoke his sentence. Protect them still, and may the gods reward thee ! JASON. I will entreat his favor. MEDEA. Nay, implore, Command ! Denial hear not, understand not ! Look on their tender frames. O, leave them not To know an exile s wants and woes ! They are Thine own, thy once-loved sons ; thou wilt not, no, Thou canst not, let them suffer ! JASON. Are they not Still loved, still prized, beyond all other wealth ? Ah ! those confiding glances touch my heart More deeply than the favor or the wrath Of thousand kings could do. My warmest prayer Shall urge their stay. MEDEA. First to thy bride prefer Thy suit. O, could her woman s heart repel it ? And if a daughter s voice, a daughter s prayer, Present it to the king, is it not granted ? JASON. Right ; to Creusa will I breathe my wish ; Nay, they themselves, in childhood s melting tones, Shall utter it. Their infant innocence Who unrelentingly could view ? MEDEA. 81 MEDEA. His fate He blindly, madly, doth pursue ! (Aside.) T is well ; And for her hands I have prepared a gift, A bridal gift, worthy a queen s acceptance. Within this casket lies a jewelled crown ; A gold-embroidered robe, of splendor such As Corinth never saw ; take it, my sons, Take it, and only in the princess hands, As from the humblest of her servants, place it. Haste, and return successful ! JASON. Doubt it not ! Who could resist their charms ? [Exit with children. MEDEA. He loves them still ! Without there ! Order Lycus to my presence. (Enter LYCUS.) LYCUS. Can he be distant when Medea needs him ? What would the princess ? MEDEA. What ? Perchance thy life ! LYCUS. T is thine ! What wouldst thou for it ? MEDEA. Yonder palace, Whose torches rival the bright god of day, 11 M KM I. A . Whose sounds of revelry grate on my ear Like shrieks of souls accursed ! A h;ilf-hour hence See l.h;il. the gorgeous dome bla/e forth in splendor, To flight ,\irhf. from her throne, a funenil pyre for ;j (juecn s n.-po:-.e ! LYCU8. t is flone. severally. MEDEA. 83 ACT V. SCENE I. The vestibule of J ASON S palace. Enter MEDEA and IANTHE. MEDEA. T is strange that I could sleep : we cannot always Wrestle successfully with nature s claims. Is it not midnight ? IANTHE. Lady, no ; your slumber Was short. MEDEA. I feel as if long hours had passed. IANTHE. Scarce half an hour. MEDEA. Even so ? Had it been longer I should have missed the fairest sight that earth Can now afford my eyes. O ecstasy ! The palace burns ! it flames ! Like maddened steeds The fiery columns dart toward the clouds ! Look, look, lanthe ! Not Apollo s self, HI MEDEA. As from their ocean bed his coursers spring And clothe the world with light, e er to my soul Seemed half so glorious ! Still onward bound, Untamed, untamable, fleet steeds of vengeance ! Rear high your golden crests, and spurn control ! (Enter LYCUS.) Welcome ! Thou rt safe ? unharmed ? LYCUS. And unsuspected, MEDEA. I thank ye, gods ! But speak thy tidings ! haste ! Pour in my greedy ear all that hath chanced. LYCUS. Unseen, neath the huge dome th insidious torch I placed ; then mingled with the revellers. The youthful bride I saw ; her flowing locks Bound with the glittering crown, thy fatal gift. The broidered robe adorned her form. Jason, His sons dismissed to their wronged mother, turned His eyes, with love and glad ambition bright, Upon the princess MEDEA. Peace, nor madden me ! LYCUS. Pardon ! I would but say, e en as he gazed Her color faded ; from her pallid lips A shriek of anguish burst ; fainting, she sank In Jason s arms, her graceful limbs convulsed MEDEA. 85 By direst agonies ; around his neck Her arms she strove to throw, and faintly murmured, " The fatal casket ! O, the gifts were poisoned ! " One groan, one struggle more, her pangs were ended. Joyful that death had come to her relief, I turned, and hither sped to bid thee fly, If flight be practicable. MEDEA. Doubt it not. Yet one word more, said Jason aught ? LYCUS. These words, " Sorceress, thy heart s best blood shall answer this ! " MEDEA. An oracle s decree were not more sure ! To Juno s shrine I haste. The secret passage, Not e en by Jason known, unseen admits me Within the sacred walls. My sons still sleep ? IANTHE. Ay, lady. MEDEA. On their lips I will impress A parting kiss, then fly. For you, my friends, Hark ! no ; they come not yet, a slight delay Secures me. Speed my course, propitious powers, On to the goal of vengeance ! Let my foot Fail not, heart quail not, hand and eye shrink not ! [Exit. 86 MEDEA. LYCUS. She goes ; but to what end ? On every side Destruction presses. Who can turn aside The hot pursuit ? All Corinth will arise T avenge a deed so bold. IANTHE. O Heaven, regard A wife and mother wronged ! LYCUS. Did Heaven regard The woes of earth, these wrongs had never chanced. Yet will it show this mercy ! soon to end them. IANTHE. But how ? LYCUS. In death. IANTHE. Medea ! Death ! LYCUS. Was she Not born to die ? IANTHE. To conquer, not to yield, Seemed to my mind her birthright. Must she die ? LYCUS. How live ? how scape ? IANTHE. Will not the temple shield her ? MEDEA. 87 LYCUS. Dream not of it. She nurses not the hope. IANTHE. Yet she was calm. LYCUS. The calmness of despair. She goes to die. IANTHE. Nay, Lycus O, her sons ! They 11 ask me for their mother ! Must I teach them What death is ? LYCUS. May their mother s enemies Leave thee the task ! IANTHE. Gods ! Will they raise their hands Against those innocents ? LYCUS. Infuriate men Pause not for such regards. IANTHE. I left them sleeping. Can it be their last slumber ? Even now A sudden horror thrills me ! Watch thou here While to their couch I fly. [Exit. LYCUS. To what purpose Should I watch here ? To view yon towering pile 88 MEDEA. Yield to the insidious flames, and hear the cries Of fear, and rage, and horror, which the crowd, Who gaze, send upwards to the crimsoned heavens ? But hark ! What flying step ? (Enter IANTHE.) IANTHE. O Lycus ! LYCUS. What hast thou heard or seen to fright thee thus ? lanthe, speak ; if but a word ! IANTHE. Blood ! [Faints. LYCUS. Blood ! Whose blood ? She faints ! lanthe, my beloved, Rouse thee ! Whose blood ? What thought I dare not speak Distracts my soul ? lanthe ! She hears not, Breathes not, perchance lives not ! Within there, help ! [Exit, bearing IANTHE. SCENE II. Temple of JUNO ACREA. Altar and statue of the goddess. The bodies of MEDEA S children before the altar. MEDEA. MEDEA. VENGEANCE hath had her perfect rites ! Now, now, Welcome, ye hounds of Corinth ! for I hear MEDEA. 89 Your distant voices clamoring for the prey, Welcome ! A woman s and a mother s hand From your expectant grasp hath snatched the victims ! In horrid safety lay the new-fledged eaglets, Whose eyes, just trained to meet the sun s fierce glance, Relentless fate hath sealed in death. Death ! death ! Unfathomable mystery ! my lips Speak thy familiar name, and yet my soul Rebels against thy power. Within my hand, Fearless, unfaltering, I hold the knife, Stern witness of thy doings, near me lie, Insensible to hope or fear, the sons So loved, so worshipped, but my heart feels not Thy presence, visible, palpable, though it be. For in the mirror of fast-flowing tears Imagination paints my children s forms ; The music of their voices fills my ear. Enchantment of as strong, as blinding power To mortal reason, as a mother s love, Nor heaven nor hell can boast ! And yet this hand, nerved by infernal rage, Hath stopped the gushing stream of life in veins Fed from the fountain of this heart ! Ye gods ! Dare I to talk of love ? The very fiends Mock at the sound, and, as the shivering earth Gapes neath my feet accursed, from the abyss Swarm the dire brood ; above, around, they press. They bar each avenue of escape, proclaim 12 90 MEDEA Me homeless and deserted of my kind, And in my tortured ear their serpent tongues Hiss forth a welcome to their vengeful band. Hence, horrid shapes ! I m human still ! Hell taunts, Earth shakes, mankind rejects, yet here I sink Upon the bosoms of my slaughtered babes, Here dare repose, nor powers of earth or hell Shall fright me hence ; for here, at least, is peace. Peace to the young, pure hearts which ne er shall throb Beneath the burden of Life s guilt and woe, And peace to me, who in this marble stillness Behold Heaven s dearest boon. And now one glance, One last embrace, the last on earth ! The rose Hath scarce yet faded from your lips, my sons, The smile still lingers there, as life were loath To part from shrines so fair. Had ye awaked, As with despair s fell strength your wretched mother Grasped the dire steel, could I have done this deed ? No, by the gods ! The heart once tasked to the bounds Of Nature s great endurance, oft a word May strike with sudden force the quivering chord, And free the wearied soul. Devoted babes, Had sleep released you from its bonds, one glance Had been Apollo s messenger ; my heart Had burst beneath its power, and ye had lived, To glut Corinthian rage. I thank the gods It is not so ! Upon your cheeks the icy chill of death Thrills through my veins ; t is well, I should be stern ; MEDEA. 91 For one more task remains, and then to rest ! The step I watch for comes. Vengeance, instruct me To teach his heart some knowledge of the pangs Which rend my own ! (Enter JASON.) JASON. Detested fiend, who tempt st The wrath of men and gods, vainly thy feet Pollute this sacred dome ! What seek st thou here ? MEDEA. Safety. JASON. Thy words profane the goddess. She Rears not her awful front within this dome To stay the hand of justice. MEDEA. Nay, but to Protect the injured. JASON. Let the guilty tremble ! MEDEA. Tremble thou neath the chaste eye of the goddess, Stern guardian of connubial faith, and swift Avenger of the violated vow ! Hence, ere the lightnings of her wrath consume thee ! JASON. Restore my sons ! Haste, for a hundred swords Thirst for their blood and thine ! 92 MEDEA. MEDEA. Vainly they thirst. Shall the pure stream, which, from the sacred fount Of great Apollo s heart, courses these veins, Brighten the dull steel of the robber race Of Sisyphus ? Phoebus himself forbids ; For me and for my sons a nobler way He opes, a proud escape ! JASON. Vain, frantic woman ! For thee there s no escape. Without regret, I leave thee to thy fate. My children ! Speak ! Reveal their hiding-place MEDEA (taking a goblet from the altar). First let us pour The full libation. JASON. Peace ! Darest thou profane The sacred rites, and with thy blood-stained hands, To the pure wife of Jove MEDEA. Nay, to the dead ! JASON. The dead ! What dead ? Speak, woman ! hast thou dared MEDEA. I have not dared ; how should I dare, whose heart Hath no communings with the spectral form MEDEA. 93 Which men call Fear ? but I have done a deed Shall make earth tremble, and the pale moon shrink Beneath her canopy of clouds ; and, more, Shall teach the tyrant, man, that we, the weak, Frail beings, whom he fain would keep his slaves, Can rise in the strong armor of the soul, And hurl him to his native dust ! Behold ! [Showing the knife. JASON. Yon crimson stain ! Say whence ! O gods, the view Curdles my blood with horror ! I must doubt Or die ! Thou hast deceived, to torture me ; I will forgive, and save thee, if thou wilt But say t is not MEDEA. It is thy blood and mine ! [JASON falls senseless. Well sped, keen shaft of vengeance ! Let me gaze My last upon the form whose peerless beauty Bewildered my young heart ! How changed am I, Since neath the wild, impetuous sway of Love I bowed, and, confident in Jason s faith, Braved the rude dangers of the deep, and sought This hostile shore ! Then, then I loved, I loved As now I hate, ay, loathe, the prostrate form By falsehood stricken ! At my feet he lies, Unconscious of his woes, and I, who slew My sons, in slumber smiling, hold the knife 94 MEDEA. Above his breast ; yet him I could not strike Were worlds the price ! He was my husband ! was ! O, what an age of woe that " was " contains ! My heart s whole wealth was his ; my very being Seemed centred in his life and happiness ; Madly I loved, as madly have I punished ! Yet, by the immortal gods, I could not harm him ! woman, to thy first, last, only love, What wondrous memories cling ! True, thou mayst hate, Condemn, despise, yet canst not all forget ! How like to death this torpor ! Yet he lives, A victim sacred to the gods ! JASON. Ah me ! Do I still live, or have I followed those 1 love to Pluto s realm ? Ha ! I remember ! Hast thou no lightnings, Jove ? MEDEA. Ay, to my hand Hath he intrusted them ; t is thine to suffer ! JASON. Woman, fiend, murderess, hence ! Thou second Gorgon, Whose baleful beauty proves a curse more fell Than hers, what hast thou done ? They were thine own, Drew from thy bosom life, and, pillowed there, Slept the sweet sleep of infancy ; from thee Their rosy lips first learned to lisp the name, MEDEA. 95 The tender name, so outraged by thy deeds ; They called thee " mother," yet thy hand has slain them ! MEDEA. By thee they perished ! Thy foul wrongs to me, Thy vows profaned, thy household gods deserted, Thy wife, thy sons, abandoned, to indulge Thy roving fancy and thy black ambition, Called with the thunder s voice on Heaven for vengeance ! And it is granted ! JASON. Such a vengeance ! What Should woman do with vengeance ? But thou art No woman, but a Fury scaped from hell ; " False to thy father, traitress to thy country," And stained in youth with kindred gore ! MEDEA. Shameless ! Barest thou reproach me with the crimes which owe Their birth to thee ? Strange to my soul they were, Till thy false, fatal love darkened each sense To all things but thy safety. T was for thee Absyrtus bled. The deed was then a virtue, But now, yet he s avenged ! JASON. He is; " The wrathful Furies punish on my head Thy crimes." 96 MEDEA. MEDEA. Have they spared me ? JASON. Thy heart must bleed ; But no ! t is marble, and thy fiendish nature Thirsted for blood, " thou tigress, of a soul More wild, more savage, than the Tuscan Scylla ! " Sought st thou revenge for thy imagined wrongs, Why not in my heart s blood imbrue thy hands ? MEDEA. And bless thee with oblivion ! Were that vengeance ? Me thou didst doom to hopeless life ; for this Thy bride, thy sons, I slew, th expected throne Snatched from thy eager grasp ! I see thee stand, Like me, alone, and ask no other bliss ! " Call me a tigress, then, or, if thou wilt, A Scylla, howling gainst the Tuscan shore ! " For this I wrestled with my woman s heart ; For this neath pangs Prometheus never knew I writhed ! A rich requital from the gods I reap in thy despair. JASON. Thy fiendish joy Full soon must end. MEDEA. Hence, u and entomb thy bride " ! JASON. Too well thou know st the flames, meet instruments MEDEA. 97 Of hands like thine, have snatched from me that solace. Yet a more mournful task remains. " Yield me My sons, that I may mourn, and bury them." MEDEA. Never ! in death, as life, they re mine ! JASON. Think not To rob me of their ashes. MEDEA. Beneath Acrea s outstretched arm they lie, And who shall snatch them thence ? JASON. Their father s hand ! The bleeding bodies of my slaughtered sons Thus do I snatch, despite MEDEA. Forbear ! (Enter PRIESTESS of JUNO.) PRIESTESS. Forbear ! Nor dare insult the goddess ! At her feet The precious relics lie ! Dread to profane Her shrine ! Retire, rude man ! (Enter on one side CORINTHIANS ; LYCUS and IANTHE on tfa other.) PRIESTESS. Corinthians, back ! Respect this dome. 13 98 MEDEA. CORINTHIANS. The goddess we revere, But for the murderess, she is ours. MEDEA. Away, Corinthian slaves ! To Fate, not you, I yield ! [Stabs herself. T is done ! The blood, yet moist upon this steel, Mingles again with the warm fountain whence Its bright stream flowed ! lanthe, aid me near, Yet nearer, to the sons my struggling soul Burns to rejoin. Witness that as she lived Medea dies, in tameless, glorious freedom, Scorning, defying, mortal power ! For thee, Ungrateful friend, false father, perjured husband, My curse is on thee, live ! [Dies. ERMINIA; A TALE OF FLORENCE DRAMATIS PERSONS. GUIDO BUONDELMONTI, . . . A young Florentine Noble. Rossi, His Friend. AMIDEI, An old Nobleman of Florence. LAMBERTUCCIO AMIDEI, . . . His Kinsman. MOSCA LAMBERTI, -| STIATTA UBERTI, f Allies and Kinsmen of the FIFANTI, > . . 1 Amidei. MANELLI, MALESPINI, ERMINIA, Daughter to Amidei. LEONORA, Her Friend. WIDOW DONATI. COSTANZA, Her Daughter. LUCIA, Costanza s Attendant. Ladies and Gentlemen of Florence. SCENE. Florence. E RM I N I A. ACT I. SCENE I. A room in the Amidei palace. Enter ERMINIA and LEONORA. LEONORA. NAY, nay, Erminia ! Avoid your guests On your betrothal eve ? The crowd, that wait To view the noblest youth and fairest maid All Florence boasts, will think you crazed. Come, come ! ERMINIA. Dear Leonora, urge me not. My soul Receives no pleasure from the dazzling show Of vain respect ; my joy is all within. Ah, leave my heart the bliss to gaze awhile On its own happiness ! LEONORA. You are too proud. ERMINIA. Say it be so, t is my inheritance ; The gift of nature, not th effect of art. I could not quell it, were t to gain a crown. 104 E R M I N I A . LEONORA. There s not another lady in all Florence, Whose heart would not beat quicker if this throng Assembled in her honor. ERMINIA. She, whose heart, In the betrothal hour, throbs with delight At incense offered to her beauty s power, Save from her chosen knight, hath never loved ! LEONORA. I 11 talk no more, for here Count Guido comes. Now shall I see this stubborn mood of thine Yield to thy lover s smiles. (Enter BUONDELMONTI.) BUONDELMONTI. My Cytherea, What cruelty controls thee ? Round thy shrine Thy votaries throng, yet the capricious goddess Veils her joy-giving face. Thy hand, my fair ! ERMINIA. Thou, too, against me ? BUONDELMONTI. Gainst thee, love ? how so ? I would that she whom I adore should be The worshipped of all hearts. ERMINIA. In very truth, I ask to be the worshipped of but one. ERMINIA. 105 And true it is, that, woman as I am, I d rather face these knights in war array, Than meet their eyes fixed on me, when they deem I woo their flattering glance. BUONDELMONTI. Dost thou contemn The homage of thy friends ? ERMINIA. I thank their kindness, - For such t is meant ; but the contempt reserve For my unworthy self, if I should feel A wish t indulge the tempter, Vanity, Despite the better voice within my heart. BUONDELMONTI. Thou It not refuse thy lover this, perchance The last request the lover e er may make Thus low, rny fair ; for my sake give consent ! ERMINIA. Who can refuse when Buondelmonti pleads ? (Exeunt BUONDELMONTI and ERMINIA.) LEONORA. Who can refuse when Buondelmonti pleads ? Not his Erminia : proud as she is, Naught knows she of that graceful tyranny Which takes delight in straining to the utmost The bonds of love, then loosing them again Ere they are weakened. Yet she has more power, With her mild dignity, than other maids, 14 106 ERMINIA. However charmingly capricious, hold. Those whom she wins would be her slaves for life, And think the leave to serve her were a boon That kings might covet. Hark ! the voice of mirth And music echoes through the halls. I 11 fly, For one, at least, is watching for my step. [Exit. SCENE II. A hall in the palace. Enter ERMINIA, BUONDELMONTI, AMIDEI, L. AMIDEI, UBERTI, Rossi, and others. AMIDEI. MAY these espousals prove a joyous prelude To nuptials still more joyous ! While we thus Make Love and Truth the columns of our state, Florence, united in herself, shall stand Unharmed amid the storm of war, whose wrath O erwhelms each neighbouring province. L. AMIDEI. Ay, our strength Lies in our union ; let no reckless hand Disturb this basis of our happiness ; But may each Florentine, like our good host, Confirm by wise and just alliances The interests of the state. AMIDEI. Let music sound ; E R M I N I A . 107 Lead forth the dance, and let your mirth proclaim That Amidei s daughter is betrothed To Buondelmonti s lord ! Let Florence hear The joyful news, and know that, while her sons Maintain such concord, war may vainly strive To enter at her gates, which only discord Can e er unbar ! Come, gentle cavaliers, Beseech your lovely dames to grace the dance. [ The knights and ladies dance. (Enter LEONORA.) L. AMIDEI. Fair Leonora, grant your hand, I pray ! Fain would I rouse Uberti s jealousy. LEONORA. Gallant confession ! So you ask my favor, Not for my own sake, but to do despite Unto your friend ? Indeed, it were but just That every lady should reject your suit For your discourteousness, and let you stalk The phoenix of the evening. L. AMIDEI. Lady fair, I will confess I dared not say how much I prized thy grace, lest he should hear the tale, And mar my suit. LEONORA. Thou hast so good a grace In mending a lame speech, I ll pardon thee ! 108 E R M I N I A . AMIDEI. Now to the banquet, where the ruddy wine Shall wake your mirth anew, and each shall pledge His chosen fair. (Exeunt all but ERMINIA, BUONDELMONTI, and UBERTI.) UBERTI. Though Florence may rejoice, Yet many a heart within her walls is sad, And greets with sighs and tears this festive hour. ERMINIA. Uberti jests ; or I have enemies Of whom I dreamed not. UBERTI. Enemies, fair coz, You can have none : despairing lovers mourn That young Erminia s betrothals steal From their benighted hearts hope s last faint ray. BUONDELMONTI. Speak you of lovers, sir ? Pray you, decide, Am I not prince in Florence, since I ve won Its greatest treasure ? Emperor and pope May wrangle for the devastated fields Of war-worn Italy ; not for their crowns Would I exchange this triumph ! What care I, That they with bloody laurels wreathe their brows ? Be mine the myrtle crown, whose hue, Erminia, Is not more fadeless than my love for thee. E R M I N I A . 109 TJBERTI. You may be styled, in her right, prince of Florence ; She rules its noblest hearts. Unhappily, T is with a sway that scarce can be transferred ; For such allegiance as young knights bestow Is selfish, and demands return ; and he Who robs them of the price of their devoir They will esteem their tyrant. Good my lord, You will have deadly foes in Florence. BUONDELMONTI. Ay? In such a cause I d singly face a thousand, And deem my life by far too poor a price For my Erminia s love. I pray you, sir, Are any of her desperate suitors here ? For I would know them. If I chance to fall In their good company I 11 fill my wine In the Venetian goblet, and my hand Shall rest upon my weapon s hilt, prepared To win my bride anew. UBERTI. Mix with the guests, And each who views you with a frowning brow Note -as your rival. But Erminia Can name each sighing cavalier ; doubt not Each victim is recorded in her heart. And she has scores of trophies, broidered scarfs, Won in close field from many a hapless knight, HO ERMIN I A. Laid by the victors at their tyrant s feet, To prove their claim to glory and to love. And she has moving lays from youths forlorn, More plaintive than the last-expiring chords Of Orpheus lyre, which she, as barbarous As his tormentors, hears with cruel pleasure. ERMINIA. Good cousin, cease ; this is the veriest fooling TJBERTI. That e er charmed maiden s ear ; runs it not so ? ERMINIA. That ever tortured maiden s ear. Uberti, Had I your poignant wit, I might describe A broidered scarf, worn next a young knight s, heart ; Not won in battle-field, but cunningly Stolen from a lady s bower ; and I could tell Of a bright shield, whereon a dagger s point Has traced a name, which the unskilled might deem Contained some powerful spell, since the proud knight Doth gaze on it, and sigh, and quite forget To shake the buckler in his foeman s face. TJBERTI. I cry you mercy, coz ! ERMINIA. Nay, t is too late ; You dared the combat. Shall I now reveal That name, that magic name TJBERTI. Beseech you, pardon ERM I N I A. HI My forward tongue, and spare the mighty secret ! ERMINIA. I will show mercy ; t is the attribute Of my weak sex. Go, seek some other victim To sacrifice to the bright god of wit, Whom you essay to worship. UBERTI. Nay, the god Will find no offering on his shrine to-night ; He hath not deigned to aid his votary, But gives the victory to a woman s tongue. ERMINIA. O, be not humbled, cousin ; you will find Yours oft the case of those audacious ones Who enter in the lists of wordy war. Shall we not join the revellers ? BUONDELMONTI. We are Your captives, and must follow as you lead. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The chapel of the palace, dimly lighted. LAMBERTI discovered kneeling before the altar. LAMBERTI (rising and coming forward). LET me no more insult the immortal throne With mortal anguish ! All in vain I seek, 112 ERMINIA. Within this blest asylum of man s woes, To conquer such regrets as rack the hearts Of the condemned, who, from their drear abodes, Behold heaven s gates closed on them. Not a hope Illumines my despair. Which way I turn, All things increase my frenzy. Here, even here, The calm that doth pervade this hallowed dome Soothes not my grief ; but recollection dire Adds tenfold fury to my pangs. These walls Have scarce yet ceased to echo to the steps Of the espousal train. Erminia s voice Seems still to linger here. At yonder shrine She knelt in happiness, while I, poor wretch, Far from the scene of splendor, hid my head, And called on death ! (Enter UBERTI.) UBERTI. Who calls on death ? My friend ! LAMBERTI. Go ! What care I for friends ? Away, I say ! Why dost thou trespass on my privacy ? UBERTI. Is t not my privilege to share thy griefs ? LAMBERTI. I would hold converse with my misery In. solitude. The heart s most secret cells Brook only to be bared by Him who made them. I pray you importune me not. I am ERMINIA. At variance with myself, and scarce can have More patience with another. UBERTI. In this mood I will not leave you. Come, walk forth with me ; The chapel s gloom oppresses you. LAMBERTI. I would That I could find some spot in all the earth, Where none would play the spy upon me ! UBERTI. Faith ! Thou art possessed, for such discourteous bearing Belongs not to thy native mood ! Lamberti, Shake off this weakness ! Be again yourself ! Brace on your armor, too long cast aside, Nor let your friends suspect you have renounced Your vows of chivalry. A belted knight Is the world s champion, and has no right To nurse love s fantasy while battle-shouts Ring o er Italia s plains. Shall we not forth To-morrow, and rejoin the Emperor, Who 11 gladly welcome us ? LAMBERTI. Such was my purpose. UBERTI. Thanks to the saints for the first words of reason Thou st uttered for a month ! Lamberti lives For Fame again ! 15 114 ERMINIA. LAMBERTI. Fame ! UBERTI. Wherefore dost thou name it With such contempt ? LAMBERTI. It is not happiness ! UBERTI. Time was you boasted Fame your bride. LAMBERTI. And still Is she my bride. With her I 11 dare my fate, My hall the battle-field, my bridal song The groans of dire despair, whose horrid notes Will rise in due accordance with the joys That fill the bridegroom s breast. (Music faintly heard, as from a distance.) Ah ! not for me Those joyous strains. The trumpet-blast of death Shall soon announce my hymeneal feast ! UBERTI. O noble heart, how sadly art thou crushed ! But short time since, a silver clarion s voice Charmed with its glorious melody not more Than thy bold, equal tones ; but now, alas ! All is discordant ; sorrow s careless touch Hath jarred the strings and spoiled the harmony. [Aside. Lamberti, rouse thee ! While we linger here E RM I N I A. Our laurels wither. They must taste again The smoke and blood of battle. Come, my friend, We are but recreant knights ; while thus we waste The golden moments, newer aspirants Will place their names o er ours in Glory s list. To thee Italia turns, and cries, u O, why Doth young Lamberti shun the field of fame ? " LAMBERTI. Uberti, cease ! Thy words annoy my ear, But make no impress on my o er-wrought brain. Fame ! glory ! honor ! bawbles are ye all ! Did I not seek them, as the plodding merchant Seeks wealth, that I might purchase happiness ? And hath she not escaped my eager grasp ? Go to the merchant, when the famine s breath Hath blighted the fair land, or pestilence Stalks through the lofty city ; mock him, then, As with deep groans he mourns the impending doom, And say, " Look on thy gold, arise, be healed, For thou didst love and seek it ! " Will he not Bid thee behold the death-stamp on his brow, And ask if gold be life ? Mock me not, friend ; The plague-spot is upon my heart ! Not all The homage of man s breath can cleanse the poison ! And yet thou talk st to me of fame, as if It were some talisman to charm away The heart s deep malady ! UBERTI. Each word I speak 116 ERMINIA. He doth convert to aliment for his woe. But, soft, here comes the author of this mischief. She cannot make it worse ; perchance her words May soothe Lamberti from this sullen mood. (Enter ERMINIA.) ERMINIA. Uberti here ? I think t is not your wont To fly the banquet. Ah, my cousin Mosca ! You are a stranger, sir ; you did not grace Our festival to-night. LAMBERTI. Your pardon, lady ; I had a vow, a penance to perform, A weary vigil, which would not permit That I should be a reveller to-night. ERMINIA. Indeed ! Then Heaven forbid that I should seek To draw such faithful vot ries from its service ! And yet I think thou shouldst have paid thy vow Some day ere this ; thy duty thus to Heaven Had been discharged, nor would thy gallantry Have stood impeached. You blush ! Fie, fie, My gallant cousin, t is not well in you To put such slight upon a lady s bidding. LAMBERTI. Lady, will you condemn me all unheard ? ERMINIA. Had it been told me that you would have proved ERMINIA. Neglectful of my wishes, I d have waged ( T is well I did not !) on your courtesy This chaplet of white roses on my brow. . LAMBERTI. One bud of it were far too rich a gage For my deserts. ERMINIA. You are my debtor, cousin, For this neglect, and must redeem your fame ; So, on my bridal eve, I charge you come And sue my pardon for to-day s offence. LAMBERTI. Lady ERMINIA. Signor, denial will not pass. LAMBERTI. Erminia, take my life rather than force me To such refinement of my misery ! ERMINIA. Lamberti, I had thought LAMBERTI. Ay, you have thought That I was of the giddy, heartless crew, Who throng around you but to feast their eyes Upon your beauty s blaze ; whose deepest feeling Is that your cheek is fair, your eye is bright ; Whose very glance profanes your worth. Alas ! My tongue o erleaps the barrier of my will ! ERM I N I A It was my wish that you should deem me thus, And so erase me from your memory. Forgive me that I ve trespassed on your hearing ! For I had no intent t intrude myself. Darkening the sky of your bright festival By my o erclouded presence. ERMINIA. You are wrong To term yourself intruder ; well you know You are an ever-welcorne guest ; my sire Esteems you as a son, and I have held You ever as a brother. LAMBERTI. Far too near That title ; yet not dear enough. ERMINIA. I deemed That you had shaken off that idle dream, And turned again to thoughts more worthy of you. LAMBERTI. Would it were so ! and yet I cannot wish You were less worthy, or myself less true. Erminia, to forget thee I must lose Each nice perception of my heart and brain, By which I know you loveliest of your sex, The rarest maid that ever virtue crowned. True, I have dreamed ; the memory of that dream Will haunt me while I live, to madness haunt me ! ERMINIA. H9 When I behold you not, gloom overpowers me, And frenzy racks my soul. When you are near, I tremble and would fly, but am enchained By the most potent majesty of love. ERMINIA. Lamberti, cease ! The words I would not list While I was yet mine own offend my ear, Vowed to transmit the homage of but one Unto my wedded heart. True, I am not As yet a wife, but the betrothal rites Precede but shortly that more sacred tie. Yet do not think I blame you ; I m in fault. Since all unwittingly I forced your speech, When you had fain been silent. LAMBERTI. Pardon, lady ! Thy sweet rebuke I justly have deserved. Yet my heart s will would close my lips for aye, Ere they should breathe a syllable to pain Thy modest ear. O, may you never know The pangs which you inflict ! Beseech you, now, Pronounce forgiveness for the last offence Lamberti will commit. ERMINIA. Cousin, I pray you, Take not my words so gravely. Look on me As a fond sister, and the change will drive Uneasiness from both. 120 E R M I N I A . LAMBERTI. When thou canst learn To school thine own heart as thou urgest me, When, without murmuring, thou canst resign Count Guido to another, and canst teach Thy heart and lips to name him u brother," then I can obey thee ! ERMINIA. Ah ! his words strike deep ! How weakly do I seek to turn his love By vain conceits, which could not change my own ! [Aside. Cousin, adieu ! I trust we 11 meet again In calmer moments. LAMBERTI. No, Erminia ! This parting is our last ! Each time I sever From thy dear presence is repeated death. Why should I wilfully renew such pain ? ERMINIA. This is most sudden and unwelcome news ; I trust thou It not desert fair Florence so ! LAMBERTI. O, say no word of favor, lest my heart O erleap the barrier resolution forms, Again offending thee with its vain plaint, Despite thy prohibition ! ERMINIA. Fare thee well, ERMINIA. Good knight and true ; Heaven grant thee happiness ! LAMBERT! (kneeling). Farewell, Erminia ! (Exit ERMINIA.) Farewell to hope, Farewell to joy ! would t were to life ! UBERTI. Alas! His passion knows no bounds, but in its fury Enchains a soul which, but for that one weakness, Has strength to rule a world. Rouse thee, my friend! He heeds me not. Lamberti, art thou mad ? Shake off this grief ! Trust me, Erminia Were a far better soldier ; she would pay Neglect like hers with scorn. Borrow some touch Of her proud spirit. LAMBERTI. Pray thee, cease thy words ! Woe relishes no converse save its own, And silence is its greatest comforter. Uberti, by our friendship, leave me now ! I cannot brook that mortal eye should view My weakness and my woe. At morning s dawn We 11 meet. Good night. UBERTI. Even as you will ; good night. [Exeunt severally. 16 122 E R M I N I A . ACT II. SCENE I. A street on the banks of the ARNO. Enter the WIDOW DONATI and Rossi, meeting. WIDOW. SIGNOR, well met. ROSSI. Your servant, noble lady. WIDOW. In sooth, my lord, I would your words of greeting Were more than courtesy. ROSSI. i But honor me With a command, you 11 find them so. WIDOW. I 11 test Your friendship, sir. For many a tedious year In my ambitious breast has dwelt a plan, Unseen and unsuspected, yet not less The guide of all my actions. Through the day I slowly gathered power to force success ; At night my dreams were of the accomplishment E R M I N I A . 123 Of my design. Now are my means full ripe ; T is time to act ; but yet I lack a friend To set my scheme in motion. ROSSI. I am yours For aught save treason gainst the state. WIDOW. O, fie. Suspicious mortal ! wherefore such a clause ? What ! Am I capable to stir such deeds As most of men would start from ? Am I one To o erthrow governments and build anew Upon their ruins ? ROSSI. Lady, you are one Who, if you had the will, would find the power For aught that mortal e er achieved. WIDOW. Go to ! You are a flatterer ! But truce ! My plot Is one of marriage. ROSSI. What ! remate yourself ? WIDOW. Not I ! Too long I ve borne authority, And queened it o er my own domains, to shrink Into a secondary star, and hide My beams beneath a lord s imperious eye. My daughter is the party. 124 E R M I N I A . ROSSI. Daughter, say you ? You must mistake ; rather your younger sister. WIDOW. If you will be true friend to my design, Prithee cease fooling ; I 7 m not in the mood. ROSSI. I will be grave as is his Holiness When Germany looks fierce. Declare your will. WIDOW. Hark ! hark ! What melting sounds make glad the air That sweeps from Arno s breast ? (A long train of barges gayly decorated, containing ERMINIA, BUON- DELMONTI, LEONORA, AMIDEI, UBERTI, and others, appears upon the river. ) ROSSI. The strain proceeds From yonder train of boats. WIDOW. A gallant show, Worthy our gallant city ! Pray you, sir, What glad event do they thus celebrate ? ROSSI. Lady, you see the friends and followers Of Buondelrnonti s house, and also those Of Amidei s blood. But the last night The fair Erminia, Amidei s child, To the young Buondelmonti was betrothed. E R M I N I A . 125 WIDOW. Now Heaven forbid that thy lips utter truth ! No raven s voice with more unwelcome note E er croaked of death ! ROSSI. Why should it anger you ? WIDOW. Fool that I am ! It is the overthrow Of my so cherished scheme. T was to this end I did entreat thy friendship. ROSSI. To what end ? Thy passion soars so high it cannot stoop To explain this sudden fire. WIDOW. Out on thy dulness, That cannot guess what I forget to speak Betwixt surprise and wrath ! It is this lord To whom I d give my daughter. ROSSI. T is too late. WIDOW. Thou shalt not say or think so ! While I live, And time moves on, " too late " shall not exist ! I 11 blot those words, " too late," " impossible," Out of my language. Whoso utters them Before my presence I 11 esteem my foe ! 126 E R M I N I A . ROSSI. Well, lady, I am promised to your service ; What shall be done, and how ? WIDOW. O vile delay, How hast thou punished me ! T is ever thus With those who sport with Time. He doth avenge Full dearly insult to his majesty. Rossi, since first my daughter saw the light, I have resolved to raise my house s fortunes By wedding her with Buondelmonti s heir. She hath been trained and tutored for his rank. Such beauty, grace, and rare accomplishments ! Smile if you will ; no mother s vanity Dictates my boast. Thou shalt behold, and own My judgment cool. Describe Erminia. ROSSI. Have you not heard report of her ? WIDOW. I have ; But Rumor s hundred tongues as much exceed The simple truth, as hundreds one. ROSSI. Not here. Walk on with me towards the river s brink, And scan her features as she leaves the barge ; Then wilt thou see the fairest of her sex Since Helen ruined Troy. E R M I N I A . 127 WIDOW. I 11 follow you ; Then lead you to my house, where you 11 confess, That as immortal Venus outshone Helen, So far Costanza s beauty dims Erminia s. SCENE II. A room in the WIDOW DONATI S house. COSTANZA seated. LUCIA attiring her. COSTANZA. THY hands are slow to-day, or else I lack My wonted patience, Lucia. Now the mirror. Fie on thee, girl, what spirit of awkwardness Is in thy fingers ? O, these curls are stiff As thou hadst meant them to perpetuate Thy skill for ever ! If my glass is true, No village maid upon her bridal day, Fearful to move lest she should disarrange Her wondrous finery, looks more prim than I. [Pulls the ornaments from her hair, and shakes the curls over her neck and shoulders. Here goes your labor ! Now my tiring s done. Lucia, thou st been abroad ; give me the news. LUCIA. Lady, there s naught so new as thine own whims ; Each minute brings a fresh one. 128 E R M I N I A . COSTANZA. Thank thy stars That thou art spared the tediousness of old ones ! LUCIA. That s my sole comfort, the variety Of your caprice. Did you not change so oft, I should expire of weariness. COSTANZA. Alas! If I had not such whims, into what channel Wouldst thou disperse the current of thy spleen ? LUCIA. Perchance upon your mother. COSTANZA. Why on her ? LUCIA. Because she so overloads the packhorse, patience, With lecturing on thy beauty and thy grace. COSTANZA. Is this the news ? LUCIA. Ah, no ! t is old as thou art. But there is news abroad thou It joy to hear. Last night the young Erminia was betrothed To Guido, heir of Buondelmonti s house. COSTANZA. Lucia, can this be true ? LUCIA. Lady, e en so. E R M I N I A . 129 COSTANZA. Perish Lamberti s love, and from its tomb My hopes shall soar ! Say, heardst thou aught of him ? LUCIA. T is said Lamberti has resolved to join St. John s bold champions. COSTANZA. Say no more, my girl. O, I am sick at heart that I have given My love unto a knight, who foolishly Hath chased the shadow that still fled his grasp, And scorned the treasure that he might have won ! I am revenged, in that Erminia Slights him as he slights me. LUCIA. Ah ! love is blind, Or he would see how much Costanza s charms Exceed Erminia s. COSTANZA. Yet she is fair. LUCIA. She d seem but common, place her by your side. COSTANZA. She is too tall, yet she hath majesty. LUCIA. You have most grace, so you need not be rivals, Differing so much. 17 130 E R M I N I A . COSTANZA. Ay, true. Should a sylph seek To emulate Diana, or Diana Pine to exchange her huntress mien, to wear The sylph s unfettered motion ? Yet I would I knew the charm by which she won her cousin ! LUCIA. They grew beneath the selfsame roof. COSTANZA. Even so. If that s a reason for his love to her, She should love him. LUCIA. Had ever love a reason ? COSTANZA. Ay, girl, my love for him. LUCIA. Is t possible ? I should not have divined it. COSTANZA. Say st thou so ? I love him that he hath the noblest bearing Of any knight in Florence ; then his fame In knightly deeds might win a lady s heart ; And, lastly, I would pierce his stubborn breast, Because it is so stubborn gainst my smiles, And that the maid who wins Lamberti s hand Will wring the hearts of half her sex in Florence. E R M I N I A . 131 LUCIA. Three reasons ; but the last most apt of all ! COSTANZA. I see not how Erminia should control Lamberti s heart so strongly, for she seems Indifferent of conquest. Now I think That, with more cunning, I can wider spread Beauty s dominion ; for I can command Every gallant by his own vanity ; For each one thinks it is for him I sigh, And each one is persuaded, past all doubt, That he is knighthood s mirror, and his worth Dimming each rival s fame. I would so rule, That for each smile I could command a life. LUCIA. O grasping vanity ! how many ways Thou seek st for thy indulgence ! [Aside. COSTANZA. See who comes. LUCIA. Thy mother, and a stranger by her side. COSTANZA. Perchance I 11 now hear more of this betrothal. The sound is music to my ear. (Enter WIDOW and Rossi.) WIDOW. My lord, This is my daughter whom I named to you. 132 E R M I N I A . Costanza, Signer Rossi is a friend Whom you must favor. COSTANZA. Sir, I am well pleased To bid you welcome. ROSSI. Lady, I am happy That I am thus permitted to behold The gem of Florence. COSTANZA, You are courtly, sir. Dear mother, what news bring you from abroad ? WIDOW. You shall know by and by. Perchance I 11 tell What will not discontent you. Stand aside, While I hold conference with this gentleman. [COSTANZA and LUCIA retire. What think you further of the plan I named ? [To Rossi. ROSSI. The Count is yours. WIDOW. Does not Erminia wane Beneath this sun of beauty ? ROSSI. I will speak With honesty. To me, Erminia Is far more lovely ; but my friend, the Count, Is giddy, fickle, and one winning glance E R M I N I A . 133 From yonder maid will bring him to her feet, Enslaved as Hercules to Lydia s queen, Or Antony to Egypt s. Novelty Is his divinity, and vanity Doth more than love control his bridal choice. It is his boast, that Buondelmonti s wife Shall be the empress of Italia s fair. There is no point, no shadow of resemblance Between your daughter and Erminia ; Neither would suffer by comparison With her fair rival ; but the novelty Of young Costanza s beauty will enchain Count Guide s roving eye. WIDOW. T is now your part To lure him hither. ROSSI. That shall soon be done. Hath she the wit to bear this scheming out ? Trust me, t is not her face alone can bind Our whimsical gallant. If her sweet voice Discourse not in such sort to enchant his ear, His eyes will speedily throw off their bondage. Say, hath she art ? WIDOW. A true Italian brain. ROSSI. She shares your secret ? 134 E R M I N I A . WIDOW. O, content you, sir ! I m not so mere a woman. She is free Who knows not how she s ruled. Nature s perverse, Prone to rebellion since the days of Eve. I prompt ambition and forbid not love ; So hath she not th original temptation And spur to disobedience. ROSSI. But t is time She were prepared to second your design. WIDOW. Daughter, approach. Think st thou a coronet Would grace those flowing locks ? COSTANZA. Mother, I would The question were less idle. WIDOW. Say st thou so ? Would not thy head ache neath such weight of honor ? COSTANZA. And if it did, the pain were far more welcome Than any pleasure. But why trifle thus ? WIDOW. Obey me, and the coronet is thine. COSTANZA. And by what means ? WIDOW. Marriage. Do you consent ? E R M I N I A . 135 COSTANZA. Not till I see the noble from whose hand The gift shall come. WIDOW. Count Guido Buondelmonti. COSTANZA. Mother, you mock me, or your brain is turned ! He to an Amidei is betrothed. WIDOW. The tie shall be dissolved. COSTANZA. This passes patience ! WIDOW. Be calmer, dear. This gentleman doth vouch That young Count Guido can be won by thee. COSTANZA. The gentleman is over-generous ! My grateful heart doth lack the wit to frame An answer suited to his courtesy, In thus bestowing on my humble self The fair Erminia s lover ! Much I fear The lady and the Count are ignorant Of their rich luck in such a faithful friend. ROSSI. The lady hath a tongue ! [Aside. WIDOW. Costanza, cease ! Say, if I bring the coronet to your feet, Will you accept it ? 136 E R M I N I A . COSTANZA. Ay ; I would it were Th imperial crown ; it is the richer gift ; Pray you, let it be that ! WIDOW. Well, infidel, Be thou attired as best may suit the rank To which I will advance thee. COSTANZA. Would I dared To swear, that till I see the coronet No other ornament shall grace my head ! WIDOW. Rossi, we will retire, and further plan To benefit this unbelieving girl. Costanza, get thee gone, and deck thyself As I commanded. I will tell thee more When I return. [Exeunt WIDOW and Rossi. COSTANZA. Well, Lucia, lend thy wit, And aid me to expound this riddle. LUCIA. I? I am bewildered ! But it seems some plan Has risen in your mother s restless brain, To wed you to this Count. COSTANZA. I have long known E R M I N I A . 137 That what she wills she 11 do ; yet her last words Seem so absurd, that, but I know her wit Is seldom at default, I much should fear She were distraught. LUCIA. Wilt thou be ruled by her If she has reason in her strange commands ? COSTANZA. I will. Who would not be obedient At such a price ? to wear a coronet ! O, in my dreams I ve worn a jewelled crown ! But I 11 content me with the coronet. LUCIA. Imperial dreamer ! thy dread majesty Already hath forgot the one loved knight ! COSTANZA. No more of him ! I now shall be revenged Upon all sides. Lamberti slighted me For fair Erminia s love, and she in turn Revenged my slight by loving Buondelmonti. Now, if I win her lover, I shall be Dearly revenged on her, who caused Lamberti To scorn the heart he knew he could have gained. LUCIA. And this will cure your love ? COSTANZA. Harp not on that ! 18 138 E R M I N I A . I think the golden circlet s blaze in time Will quite consume it. LUCIA. I have heard it said Erminia loved this lord. COSTANZA. I loved Lamberti, But yet she kept him prisoner. LUCIA. T was his fault, But sure not hers, since she would none of him. COSTANZA. If I gain Buondelmonti, she may wed Lamberti to revenge herself on me. LUCIA. Heaven grant no worse revenge may come than that ! Methinks t is ominous, that the word " revenge " Falls from your lips so oft. COSTANZA. Prate not of omens, But follow me. I will array myself As my shrewd mother wished, and wait the end. [Exit COSTANZA. LUCIA. That ever Cupid should beguile thee thus, And, in his malice, lure thee to believe Thou couldst love any save thy own sweet self ! In faith, Lamberti is far happier E R M I N I A . 139 Mourning Errninia s indifference, Than to love thee and be beloved in turn. But for this Count, if he can prove so faithless As to forsake his fair betrothed for thee, Why, he deserves thee ; so saints grant him patience ! Who weds Costanza will have need of it ! [Exit. SCENE III. A street in Florence. Enter BUONDELMONTI and Rossi. BUONDELMONTI. WHY didst thou shun our mirth to-day ? ROSSI. My lord, As I was hastening to the river s brink I met a friend, a lady. We conversed Of you and your Erminia. At that time Your brilliant train passed by, and she besought I would escort her to the water s edge, That she might view the maid, our city s boast. Could I refuse her ? BUONDELMONTI. No. What said the dame ? ROSSI. She said what, uttered by a cavalier, And thus repeated, would bring on a combat. She vowed she had a daughter fairer far 140 E R M I N I A . Than fair Erminia, and thereupon Did urge me to her dwelling, that my eyes Might judge if she spoke truth ; and thus it is That I have been a truant. BUONDELMONTI. Who is she Who robbed me of my friend. ROSSI. "She is the widow Of a Donati. BUONDELMONTI. Ay ? I know her well ; A cunning dame ; I warrant me she spread This snare to win a husband for the maid. How say you, friend, will you too wed ? ROSSI. My lord, The maid is not for me ; she is designed For one far higher. BUONDELMONTI. Who s the happy man That shall possess her ? ROSSI. That 1 cannot tell. But he should be as great as Jupiter, And have the world within his glance and grasp, If he would ask a fairer bride. BUONDELMONTI. Ah, ha ! ERMINIA. 141 She cannot rival mine. Rossi, you smile, As if I were too boastful. By the gods, I 11 see the lady and confound your judgment, Which to a sun compares a satellite ! Come, you shall guide me. ROSSI. Faith, not I, my lord ! BUONDELMONTI. Deny so slight a favor to a friend ? ROSSI. Shall I encounter fair Erminia s frowns ? Give up this whim, my lord ; I was too thoughtless, Knowing your giddy humor, in repeating The morn s adventure. Let us to the palace, And woo Erminia s sunny glance. In faith, She 11 scarce smile on you if you play the truant Upon this day. BUONDELMONTI. Nay, I m not yet enslaved, And shall make free to borrow so much time As may suffice for me to view this maid ; For, from your backwardness, I much suspect That you have left your heart in her sweet keeping. Say, will you go ? ROSSI. Indeed, my lord, riot I. BUONDELMONTI. Well, I will plead your cause. 142 E R M I N I A . ROSSI. Give o er this whim. BUONDELMONTI. Fie, Rossi ! jealousy but ill becomes thee. What ! play the dragon of the Hesperian garden Ere yet the fruit is yours ? I am resolved To view this treasured beauty ; so adieu. [Exit. ROSSI. You have well proved your right descent from Eve ! But I, who play the serpent and present This fair temptation to your view, may fail To win the paradise from which I lure you. And yet, Erminia, you will be free, And may again be won ; so with that hope I must content myself, till time shall show If Guido s fickle heart be wrought upon According to our scheme. I 11 after him, Lest some unthought-of hindrance should occur To mar the widow s wishes and my own. [Exit. SCENE IV. A room in the WIDOW DONATI S house. Enter the WIDOW and BUONDELMONTI. WIDOW. MY lord, this pleasure s great as unexpected ; Your presence honors me. E R M I N I A . 143 BUONDELMONTI. The honor s mine, In paying duty to you, noble lady. WIDOW. I should congratulate the gallant Count That he has won our city s fairest maid To share his rank ; although I must lament That my own hopes are blighted. I had dared To think my daughter might become the place Which Buondelmonti s dame must hold, and thus (Ah, vainly !) I reserved her hand for you. Let me present her, that your eyes may judge If I but dreamed her charms deserved your notice. [Exit WIDOW. (Enter Rossi.) ROSSI. Guido, fly ! O, fly ! Fall not into a snare so palpable ! Thou seest the dragon of th Hesperian garden Gapes to devour thee ! BUONDELMONTI. But the memory Of my Erminia s charms will prove an asgis To ward off this attack. ROSSI. Best not to prove The strength of thy so-boasted shield too far ! Costanza comes. Rash knight, now close thine eyes, Or yield thee prisoner, rescue or no rescue ! 144 E R M I N I A . (Enter WIDOW and COSTANZA. ) WIDOW. Behold the maid whom I reserved for you. BUONDELMONTI. Have I been cursed with madness, that I deemed I had seen beauty ere I saw Costanza ? Thus shone the Paphian goddess when fierce Mars Owned the keen shaft of her mischievous boy ! Since you have deemed me worthy of her hand, [To WIDOW. I should be most ungrateful to decline What royalty might covet. - ROSSI. So ! t is done ! Unto what saint shall I erect a shrine For this achievement ? [Aside. BUONDELMONTI. To Costanza. Goddess (for I dare not To call thee less, and cannot call thee more), Thy mother hath bestowed thee on a mortal, Who prays thee to confirm the precious gift ! COSTANZA. Must I descend from my divinity To be a mortal s bride ? BUONDELMONTI. Diana shunned The gods, yet smiled upon Endymion ; And thy great prototype, bright Venus, loved To glide from high Olympus, and to rove E R M I N I A . 145 With young Adonis upon earth. Wilt thou Affect more state than they ? COSTANZA. Ah, no, my lord ! Conquered like them, like them I yield my heart, Trembling lest you should scorn so quick a triumph. BUONDELMONTI. Venus, thou art propitious ! Love, thy lips Must seal the bond for thy heart s truth. ROSSI (as if going). My friend, What message have you for the Amidei ? BUONDELMONTI. Stay, Rossi, stay ! I need thy cunning brain. If ever thou hast loved me, aid me straight, By moving heaven and earth, to win the Pope To grant a dispensation from the rite Which I too hastily embraced ! ROSSI. The spell Works wondrously ! (Aside.) Guido, my will is yours. But I must have more close instructions ere I stir in an affair so grave. BUONDELMONTI. So grave ! Talk I of murder, Rossi ? ROSSI. Ay, of that 19 146 E R M I N I A . Which may lead to it ! (Aside.) Briefly, this affair Involves two parties ; Amidei stands On one side, setting forth his daughter s wrong ; I, on the other, pleading for remission Of Buondelmonti s contract. How think you His Holiness decides ? BUONDELMONTI. I have no thought For aught beyond my bright enchantress here. Po as you will ! Let my petition reach The Papal throne ere Amidei s plaint. Say that my house is far more powerful, More wealthy far, than any house in Florence, And that we ever have confessed his claim To Italy s dominion. Love forefend ! Methinks I m growing politic ! O, haste ! Block up all avenues to his Holiness, Until my suit is won ! Spare not for gold ! ROSSI. With all the haste I can, still Amidei May reach the Papal throne in time to mar His Holiness consent ; unless t is gained Before the injured represent their cause, I fear that you will be compelled to make Your contract good. BUONDELMONTI. Prometheus fate be mine, If I swerve from my homage to this maid ! E R M I N I A . 147 Nor pope nor emperor shall bar my will ! This hour I 11 wed, then humbly sue the Church To grant forgiveness. Haste, my fairest love, T assure thy subject s happiness. COSTANZA. My lord, I m yours. BUONDELMONTI. My heart s great empress ! What devotion Can I bestow, to thank thy swift compliance With my rude eagerness to call thee mine ? Fortune may store for me some woman s caprice, And snatch away this brightest of her smiles With the same haste she gave it. In that fear, I will not quit this hand till it is mine Beyond recall ; nor will I take mine eyes From thy fair brow, until my coronet Confine those flowing locks which, in rich freedom, Stray o er thy graceful neck, and enviously Strive to conceal its beauty. COSTANZA. Ah, my lord, How dare I hope this mood will last ? BUONDELMONTI. My life Must vanish ere I cease to adore thy charms ! Dare I ask equal love from thee ? COSTANZA. My life 148 E R M I N I A . Must vanish ere I cease to adore thy rank ! [Aside. BUONDELMONTI. Sweet echo ! Wiser than Narcissus was, I eagerly embrace the matchless treasure. Thou rt robed as would become even royalty Upon the bridal day ; there s no delay Need interpose between us and the altar. WIDOW. You re right ; the bridal must not be postponed, Lest some untimely interruption hap. So let us to the chapel, where with speed The marriage shall proceed, whose sacred bond Cannot be lightly shaken off. This way ! [Exeunt. E R M I N I A . 149 ACT III. SCENE I. A street in Florence. Enter Rossi. ROSSI. So he is wedded, and cannot retract, And fair Erminia s free ! Now, my next step Requires more wit, more caution, delicacy. Shall I haste to the lady, and inform Of Buondelmonti s treason ? Much I fear She 11 hate the bearer for the tidings sake. I will so manage to be in her presence When the ungrateful news first meets her ear, Then, feigning ignorance, I will espouse The lady s cause, and in most gallant rage Threaten to pour forth Buondelmonti s blood. Yet, if she love him, she will scarce feel favor To one who aims at his dear life ; but since T will be for her sake, woman s vanity Will plead my pardon. O, beshrew my wit ! I am in love, which makes me cowardly, Fearing to fix my choice on any course, Lest all my hopes should fall there. I must rest 150 E R M I N I A . On something ere the storm bursts forth, lest I Should be esteemed a favorer of this bridal, And excommunicated from the presence Of her, for whom alone I ve ta en the pains To aid the deep, intriguing Dame Donati In her unmatched essay. I 11 to the palace, And then, inspired by fair Erminia s eyes, Determine on my future course, and hope Shall make me bold in my nice enterprise. [Exit. SCENE II. An apartment in the AMIDEI palace. Enter LAMBERTI and UBERTI. TJBERTI. WHAT means this heavy cloud upon thy brow ? Why are thine eyes, but late cast down with grief, Now lighted up with such a sullen glare As marks Vesuvius gathering wrath ? LAMBERTI. My friend, Dishonor rests upon us. Buondelmonti TJBERTI. Ha ! What of him ? What hast thou done ? LAMBERTI. My shame Is that I have not done as you suspect. Uberti, know that the false Count is wedded, E R M I N I A . 151 Wedded within the hour to a Donati ! Flung to the winds are all the lover s vows, The sacred rites profaned, and that high heart, Which knew no weakness save in loving him, Is trampled on, and treated with such scorn As a barbarian Turk might cast upon One of his hundred fawning slaves ! O Heaven ! UBERTI. And lives he still ? LAMBERTI. He lives, and dreams, perchance, Our hearts, like his, are callous to the claims Of loud-voiced honor ! O Erminia ! Who shall repeat the story of thy wrongs, And wake thine ear to misery s chilling voice ? UBERTI. Her woe doth more unman you than your own. LAMBERTI. Methinks some fiend lurks round me, dear Uberti. The thought of her distress distracts me ; yet I dare not search my heart, lest I should find More joy at his un worthiness, than grief For her who suffers by it. Down, base thoughts ! Ye are unworthy of me ! Counsel me, How shall we break this unexampled act To poor Erminia ? Who will undertake So hard a task ? UBERTI. Her father ? 152 E R M I N I A . LAMBERTI. Most unfit ! He will more rave at th insult to his house Than at his daughter s grief. My dear Uberti, You are a friend and kinsman ; let this task Devolve on you. UBERTI. No, no ! I am unfit To be misfortune s herald. My wild mood Erminia knows, and she will surely deem I seek to put a cruel jest upon her. LAMBERTI. Perhaps young Leonora would consent T J inform her friend. UBERTI. She has not so much courage As to inform Erminia if false Guido Had wounded his least finger. Ah, Lamberti ! This must be your part. LAMBERTI. T is impossible ! O, how degrading would it seem for me, A slighted lover, to be first to sound My favored rival s great unworthiness ! Erminia comes, and with a glance so free From every shade of care, that t were as well To scatter pestilence on the pure air, And turn that first of blessings to a curse, E R M I N I A . 153 As to invade her peaceful, happy heart With news which must so harshly blight its joys. (Enter ERMINIA, LEONORA, AMIDEI, and Rossi.) By Heaven ! Count Guide s shadow, Rossi, here ! O impudence unparalleled ! [Aside to UBERTI. ERMINIA (to LAMBERTI and UBERTI). My friends, You re ever welcome ! Most so when surprise Enhances pleasure. I supposed ere this You d left fair Florence far behind. UBERTI. Lady, Such was our purpose ; unforeseen events Make us again your guests. ERMINIA. Methinks you re grave. My Leonora, have you frowned on him ? AMIDEI. Perhaps he has deserved the lady s frowns, And looks thus grave from the rebuke of conscience. UBERTI. Granting my own un worthiness, I still Must wish each knight, who woos a lady s favor, Were constant as myself. Fair Leonora, Grant me a moment s audience. [LEONORA and UBERTI converse aside. AMIDEI (to ROSSI). Signer, 20 154 E R M I N I A . Pray, when may we expect the noble Count ? ROSSI. Would I could answer you ! We parted last Some two hours since, and then I urged him much To hasten here with me ; but he replied, He must make bold to borrow so much time From his Erminia as would suffice To visit a fair lady, of whose charms A loud report had reached him. ERMINIA. Say you so ? Ah ! Signer Rossi, in your glance I read That you would gladly rouse my jealousy. You 11 find my vanity impregnable ; I 11 even dare inquire the lady s name, Who interferes with my prerogative Of seeming fair in Buondelmonti s eyes. ROSSI. She s called Costanza, of Donati s house. LAMBERTI. Can I bear this ! Thou parasite of him, Whom in this presence I forbear to style As he deserves, how darest thou linger here, Torturing this lady s ear with thy vile taunts ? Begone, if thou wouldst live ! ROSSI. Ha ! dost thou threat ? Come on ! I am as well inclined as thou. [Drawn. E R M I N I A . 155 ERMINIA. Lamberti, are you crazed ? LAMBERTI (to RoSSl). Vile tool, begone ! I cross not swords save with the principal In this foul deed ! AMIDEI (to LAMBERTI). Why, nephew, is this well ? The honor due to me should save my guests From open insult. LAMBERTI. O, your pardon, sir ! Command that reptile forth, and I will show The reasons of my actions. AMIDEI. Sure you re mad ! LAMBERTI. For your sake, sir, I would that I were mad, And ihat the motives for my violence Were but the monsters of a heated brain. When he goes forth, I speak. AMIDEI (to Rossi). Forgive me, sir, That, in accordance with my nephew s wish, I pray your absence. This so rude request Impute not to inhospitality, But my anxiety to understand How far this matter doth concern me. 156 E R M I N I A . ROSSI. Sir, I am your servant. Lady, let me hope Some future day to justify myself. For you, the time will come [To LAMBERTI. LAMBERTI. To punish thee ! [Exit Rossi. AMIDEI. Nephew, explain to us your ill-timed frenzy. LAMBERTI. Uberti, aid me ! Leonora, you Can give my reasons utterance. ( They decline by gesture. ) No help ? ERMINIA. Ah, Leonora, do you weep ? Speak, speak This mystery ! Why do you hesitate, And gaze on me with such embarrassed eyes ? LAMBERTI. And must I be th unwilling instrument To strike Erminia s heart ? Then nerve thyself As if I were thine executioner ! This day th indissoluble marriage-bond Has joined Count Guido to the fair Costanza, Whom Rossi named. ERMINIA (after a pause). Must I believe the shaft E R M I N I A . 157 Of woe can have been winged by Guide s hand ? AMIDEI. Lamberti, as you are the soul of honor, I cannot doubt. Say on. LAMBERTI. The tale, my lord, Was told me by the priest that wedded them ; A holy man, who shrank with grief and horror When I declared the former rites. From him I learned that Rossi was an instrument In this foul treachery. AMIDEI. So this stripling dares To trifle with the honor of my house ! T were safer far to pluck the lion s mane ! Give me my armor ! I ve not borne its weight For many a year, but now I 11 brace it on, And wield again my sword, and show this boy That the right arm which, for full fifty years, Hath served the state can yet maintain my honor ! [Attempts to draw his sword, but fails. O, I am old ! my wrath is impotent ! But since my own strength fails t avenge my wrongs, All Florence shall arise in my behalf ! What ! sue for an alliance with my house ! To be betrothed, then wed with another ! If to the basest clown the city owns He had shown such foul scorn, such shameless breach 158 E R M I N I A . Of honor s laws, he should be hooted forth From knighthood s pale ; but since on me, on me, This outrage vile hath fallen, what shall atone, What cleanse my tarnished honor, save his blood ! ERMINIA. O! AMIDEI. Girl ! dost thou lament ? Aid me to curse The man, who dares to make thee such a mark For the keen shaft of pity and of scorn ! ERMINIA. In mercy lead him hence ! UBERTI. Signor, I pray you, Retire with me. We will consult apart At leisure on this business. AMIDEI. O, Uberti, This is a fearful stroke ! [Exit, supported by UBERTI. LEONORA. Her stern, fixed gaze affrights me ! O, Erminia, Gaze not on me with such unearthly eyes ! I cannot stay ! Say, shall I call her women ? LAMBERTI. No ! let no menials witness this distress, It is too sacred for their careless gaze. ERMINIA. 159 LEONORA. Such misery is infectious ; let me summon Other attendance. ERMINIA. No ! no other eyes Must view my agony. [Ecnt LEONORA. LAMBERTI. Erminia ! ERMINIA. What would Lamberti ? LAMBERTI. Pardon, dearest lady, If I have seemed too forward in inflicting This wound upon thy peace ! ERMINIA. I blame thee not ; But, from the weapon that achieved the blow, Look to the hand that guided it ! O Heaven ! How rudely am I roused from happy dreams ! Too happy to be true ! O, I have raised An altar of idolatry to one Who proves mere mortal, and am justly punished In my false god s desertion ! But the fire Of Italy s best days is in my breast ; I 11 dare as Rome s proud daughters might have dared f Lamberti, as I silent stood, benumbed By misery s rude shock, dark visions rose 160 ERMINIA. In my o ertortured brain ! (Lamberti kneels and presents his sword.) Ay, even so ! LAMBERTI. Lady, I am thy slave ! ERMINIA. O, be my friend, If I may hope for truth or friendship more ! LAMBERTI. Believe that truth and friendship dwell in me ! Erminia, I will serve thee as I serve My patron saint ! I swear by all my hopes Hereafter ERMINIA. Cease ! Even thus false Guido swore ! But Heaven records the perjury ! As he Dared call its sacred witness to his words, So will it witness them to his o erthrow ! LAMBERTI. Heaven s strength is in my arm t avenge thy wrong ! ERMINIA. But an hour since I was a very woman ; I never dreamed misfortune could reach me ; Love reigned within my untried heart, and life, Swept by his wing, seemed an unfading spring. The scene is changed. Young Love has fled away ; His smiling eyes no longer light my soul ; But anger, shame, and fierce revenge now dwell ER M I N I A. 161 Where he abode. O faithless Buondelmonti ! Strong as my fervent love is now my hate ; The lion in the toils knows not more fury Than she whom late thy slightest wish could lead, O shame ! O shame ! Would that Vesuvius Had burst upon my head, ere I had lived To suffer such disgrace ! My father, too, O gracious Heaven, let not this cruel blow Cut short his honored days ! LAMBERTI. Calm thee, Erminia ! Even for your father s sake you must repress The passions which contend within your heart. ERMINIA. Calm ! calm ! Lamberti ? But why should I seek, With such vain lamentations, to express Unutterable woe ? I will be stern ! Away all woman s graces from my face, All smiles, all tenderness ! I will unsex My injured heart, and on my brow I 11 stamp Such lines of fierce resolve as warriors wear When they rush forth to battle. (Enter LEONORA.) LEONORA. O my friend, Haste ! haste ! Thy father dies ! His grief and rage Have racked his feeble frame 21 162 E R M I N I A . ERMINIA. My father dies ? For my disgrace he dies, and yet I live ! [Exit. LEONORA. Lamberti, follow us. O, vvoful day ! [Exeunt. SCENE III. A chamber. AMIDEI discovered on a couch. LEONORA, LAMBERTI, and UBERTI around him. AMIDEI. MY breath is fleeting fast. O that false Count ! ? T is he has slain me ! Eighty years I Ve lived In honor, and had thought so to have died ; But Time, who so long spared me, now demands Too dear a price for his long grant of years, Even my honor, which my nerveless arm No longer can defend. (Enter ERMINIA.) ERMINIA. Father, dear father, But live, and all is well ! AMIDEI. Too late ! My child, With my last breath take my last legacy, The charge to prosecute my just revenge. ERMINIA. 163 Look to it, girl, as thou wouldst have me rest In my last dwelling ; swear thou wilt not fail Nor falter in the task ! Let not my kin Forget to cleanse the honor of my race In the deceiver s blood ; swear, as thou lov st My blessmg, and dost dread a father s curse ! ERMINIA. Ah ! dare I trust myself ? AMIDEI. So cold, so blind ? Dost thou deny a dying father s wish ? Think st thou my soul can rest ? Think st thou thy life Can pass in peace the while my murderer stalks Unpunished through the world ? Swear, or receive My endless curse ! ERMINIA. Father, I yield, I swear ! Forgive, forgive me, for I am distraught ! AMIDEI. Well mayst thou be, poor child, whose every hope One day hath blasted ! Ah ! dark shadows close Around my eyes ; I lose thee from my sight ; Draw near, yet nearer ; take my last embrace And blessing ! Kinsmen, be ye true to her ! Adieu. All s cold ; all s dark. Death, death, thy hand Is on me. Mercy ! Heaven ! Erminia, Forget not [Dies. 164 E R M I N I A . ERMINIA. Father, stay ! My only friend For ever gone ! O Death, be merciful, And take a wretch who in one hour has proved An age of misery ! LAMBERTI. O, Leonora, Urge her to quit this scene ! ERMINIA. No, leave me all. Here let me weep away my life, for here All joy in it has vanished. Father ! O, Am I indeed alone, or do I dream That thou hast left me ? Dread reality ! Wretched Erminia, death indeed is here ! E R M I N I A . 165 ACT IV. SCENE I. A room in the Amidei palace. ERMINIA and LEONORA discovered. ERMINIA. STILL weeping, Leonora ? Thou mayst weep ; 1 neither can nor may. LEONORA. Tears would relieve Thy aching heart. ERMINIA. My lamentation s made. Affection s cries break not th eternal sleep ; Her tears melt not the icy heart of death. Then wherefore should I mourn ? LEONORA. I never dreamed Till now how false and fatal man could be. O, should Uberti prove so ERMINIA. Thou wouldst droop, 166 ERMINIA. And, like the tender dove, mourn out thy life For thy lost mate ; whilst I pay scorn for scorn. LEONORA. Ah, much I fear it hath no healing power ! Thy hand is fevered, and thine eye still wild. The leech requested, when you were more calm, I should admit him. Say, have I your leave ? ERMINIA. For what ? That he may search in my weak wrist For the strong malady within my heart ? LEONORA. He would but minister a composing draught. ERMINIA. To torture me with drugs ! I 11 none of them ! Perchance he knows already the vile cause Of this day s misery, and with prying eyes Would see how Amidei s daughter bears Her deep disgrace ! LEONORA. O, think it not, dear friend ! Let me entreat thee rest thy wearied frame, And lose these racking memories in sleep. ERMINIA. O, never shall my disenchanted eyes Be closed again in love s delusive dream ! Last night I stood, with my full happiness Too visibly imprinted on my brow, Amidst a crowd, whose every murmur breathed E R M I N I A . 167 Of love and praise ; to-day a mark for sneers, And envious, gaping wonder ! I m no saint, To sit and weep beneath such ignominy. Alas ! alas ! I know not what I am, While yet that traitor lives, while his false tongue Can boast my fondness, and betray with mocks The faltering words won by his specious vows, As witnesses of sacred love and faith, Breathed but to him and Heaven ! I shall go mad ! Haste ! call Lamberti ! (Exit LEONORA.) Well might he contemn The fool who could not prize his peerless worth, And, when she might have mated with the eagle, Bestowed her heart upon a flutterer But fit to sport from flower to flower, and wing In search of novelty his reckless flight. My weakness is my punishment ; my heart, Bewildered by excess of love, has played The sorcerer with my brain, displaying all things, Not as they were, but as I fain would have them. Yet, cousin, now I have awaked, thou It find My disenthralled soul can soar as high In honor s daring flight as can thine own. (Enter LAMBERTI.) Welcome, Lamberti ; thou alone canst fling One ray of light upon my gloom : I sent To thee for hope. 168 E R M I N I A . LAMBERTI. Thy. summons met my wish. Our kinsmen, fired with generous rage and shame, Shake off the sloth of peace, and shout " Revenge For Amidei s wrongs ! " ERMINIA. I breathe again ! LAMBERTI. This night the heads of many noble houses, Allies by friendship some, and some by blood, Assemble to confer upon this insult. Erminia, I bade them meet me here, For there are those of Amidei s blood Who urge cold arguments of policy Against the plea of honor ; that their lameness Should not infect our cause I call them here, Here, where thy father s corse, in mute appeal, Joins with thy living agonies to rouse The knightly ardor of each breast. Wilt thou, Should I esteem it needful, nerve thyself T attend this council ? ERMINIA. Will I keep my oath To Heaven, the honored dead, and my own wrongs ? Show me the trial which I will not meet Unshrinkingly ! Thou dost not know me, cousin. Last eve, midst pomp and revelry, these lords Thronged round the happy child and chosen bride ; E R M I N I A . 169 To-night, abandoned, crushed, and fatherless, Thou shalt behold me sue to them (if chance They need the spur of my complaint) , nor cease My prayers until they swear to cleanse with blood The violated honor of their race. LAMBERTI. Most wronged of maids, let them be true or false To thy racked heart and to thy murdered sire (For Buondelmonti s treachery, though not His very hand, hastened the work of death) , My hand and sword, my fortune and my life, Are pledged to thy dear service. Rate me as Thy bond-slave, living but to do thy will. To me existence offers but one charm, T avenge thy wrongs. Would that my heart s best blood Might have averted thy deep sufferings ! It had been freely given in such a cause. ERMINIA. my best cousin ! faith and pure devotion Yet live in thee, and soften my despair. 1 cannot thank thee ; what would words avail In the conflicting passions that distract My bursting heart ? Yet am I grateful. LAMBERTI. Nay, I am most honored that Errninia deems My services of worth. So fare thee well ; 22 170 E R M I N I A . For twilight ushers in the gloom of night, And with the night our friends. [Exit LAMBERTI. ERMINIA. Farewell, farewell, Thou with whom fate so strangely links me ! thou Whose fondest hopes I crushed ! Now on thy word And will my all of earthly hope depends, Thou greatly generous ! O, why is truth A gem so rare, when earth without its light Becomes a hell ? Last night methought that light Had found its home in Buondelmonti s eyes, Whence its pure rays, like angel-messengers, Brought to my tranced soul such gleams of joy, Earth was forgotten, and immortal bliss Seemed half-revealed to me. Must I believe That this was falsehood s treacherous glare ? believe Those eyes of love seek other eyes than mine For answering raptures ? that the lips which breathed, So few hours since, from mine the virgin kiss Of love and faith are now My heart is fire ! Each thought a torturing fiend ! My senses reel Beneath th accursed vision ! O, for madness To cloud it from my soul ! It will not be ; Yet, yet must I endure. Let me return To the pale dead for strength and calmness ; chill My throbbing pulses on his icy breast ; So wait my evening s torture. Father, I come ! [Exit. ERMINIA. 171 SCENE II. A hall hung with black. Enter LAMBERTI and UBERTI, meeting. UBERTI. WELL met, my friend. How fares Erminia ? LAMBERTI. Alas ! so young in stern affliction s school, Assailed at once by such unequalled horrors, T is wonder that she lives : and yet she holds A queenly dignity in her despair. I dared not linger near her, for such tears As she repressed sprang to my aching eyes, Seeing the stifled pangs of one so dear, Fatally dear to me. UBERTI. Thy constancy It is that s fatal. LAMBERTI. Say not, think not so ! Speak no light word of holy Constancy, A golden halo round the brow of Time ; The smile of Heaven upon the love of earth ; The flame that purifies all low desires, And crowns the mortal with immortal bliss. It is my life of life ! Endymion Ne er turned his eyes with ardor more sublime 172 E R M I N I A . Towards the gracious Queen of Night, than I Towards Erminia, my saint on earth. UBERTI. And hath Costanza more resplendent charms To tempt Count Guido s change ? LAMBERTI. Varying and vain, He may so deem, and glory in his guilt. Trust me, though like a meteor she may glow Along a summer sky, her brilliancy Is just as fleeting as the meteor s glare ; A thing of vanity, caprice, and art, Her false smiles snare our sex, and thus to her Our dear Erminia s peace is offered up. O, never was more barbarous sacrifice Made to a more unholy deity ! (Enter L. AMIDEI and MANELLI.) L. AMIDEI. How sadly this funereal gloom contrasts With last night s revelry ! Is this the hall Where late the song, the dance, the joyous laugh, Lent to Time s wings fresh speed ? Heart-rending change ! These woful draperies rudely usurp The place where fragrant flowers and dazzling lights Charmed every eye, and in stern silence show The reign of mirth is o er. LAMBERTI. Manelli here ? E R M I N I A . 173 I much mistook you, sir, and deemed you d be The last to join our solemn conference. Your pardon for the thought ; believe me, friend, In such a cause I m glad to be in the wrong. MANELLI. T is not the spot that one would wish to seek. These trappings quite infect me with their gloom. TJBERTI. Shall we not dye them of a brighter hue ? MANELLI. Aha, Uberti ! will you ever jest ? UBERTI. So dull ? This looks not well. (Aside.) Blood, blood, I mean. MANELLI. Ah ! this gallant is fierce. I forebode mischief. How fares our pretty kinswoman. LAMBERTI. But ill. MANELLI. Ay, Amidei was a doting father. When do we celebrate his obsequies ? LAMBERTI. Not till we Ve read his dying testament. (Enter MALESPINI, with gentlemen of his house.) L. AMIDEI. The Malespini ! Welcome, Signers, all ! 174 E R M I N I A . MALESPINI. Thanks, Amidei. We must now salute you Chief of your honorable house. L. AMIDEI. Not yet. Let me defer the rank, so sadly gained, Till the last honors are bestowed on him From whom I take it. Trust me, I am not So avaricious of my kinsman s station, As grasp it ere he lies within the tomb. (Enter FIFANTI, attended.) LAMBERTI. Welcome Fifanti ! Is your heart with us ? FIFANTI. My heart and sword. LAMBERTI. I hoped no less from you. MANELLI (to MALESPINI). A word with you, Signor. These youths, I see, Are bent on mischief [Aside. LAMBERTI. Friends, be seated all. He who last night so blithely welcomed you No longer can repeat his courteous greeting ; Yet in his service are you here, and I, As being to his love and to his blood So near, for his sake bid you welcome. E R M I N I A . 175 FIFANTI. If aught you have in charge to us from him, We 11 gladly hear it. Am I right, Signers ? ALL. Surely. LAMBERTI. He named me not his orator, Knowing me readier far, if there were wrong, To right it with my hand, than prank it out With eloquence of speech. Each one of us, I trust, bears in each drop of noble blood That warms his veins a ceaseless advocate In honor s cause. MALESPINI. Manelli, hear st thou that ? He s coming roundly to the point. [Aside. LAMBERTI. You know How near the insult cast upon our friend Touches ourselves. MANELLI. We understand your wish ; Yet pause ere you involve the city s peace In deadly feud. The rights of Holy Church Have been assailed ; doubt not the Papal power Will give us justice when our wrong s made known. LAMBERTI. O Malespini, canst thou counsel thus ? 176 E R M I N I A . Sure thou art gifted with a saintly patience ! Why, loud-voiced Rumor, with her hundred tongues, Will echo our disgrace from land to land ; Our foes will say, " Since Florence grows so tame, Well may we hope to crush her boasted strength " ; And every wretch who sinks beneath contempt Shall be called " Florentine." MALESPINI. Your sneers, my lord, Affect us not. For Amidei s sake You claim to speak ; since first his voice was raised In council, he has urged to amity By word and deed. UBERTI. Not purchased by disgrace ! The honor of his house was to his age The treasure most esteemed, and the first blow Aimed at that jewel crushed the feeble spark Which time still spared. LAMBERTI. Uberti, hearken here. [ Wtiispers. Exit UBERTI. FIFANTI. For me, I blush that ever Florentine Should need to be urged on t avenge his friend. What ! is there some infection in the air That chills your blood thus ? for I cannot think This is your natural mood. O good Manelli, E R M I N I A . 177 Lay by this mail of caution ; it is cumbrous. MANELLI. So hot-brained youth may deem it ; I have tried And proved its worth in many a stormy hour. L. AMIDEI. O, I am sick of such a wordy strife ! Would that some foe were thundering at our gates ! It would be seen then who had most regard For our good city s safety ; those whose care Would keep their bright swords bloodless, lest they rust, Or they who are alive to honor s laws And love the clash of steel ! (Reenter UBERTI, leading ERMINIA.) MANELLI. Erminia here ! What may this mean ? ERMINIA. Cousin, do not rebuke My presence, though unwelcome. I m not wont To overstep my sex s privilege ; Yet fain would I revive my sinking heart By your bold counsels. MANELLI. Noble kinswoman, We sorrow with you in your heavy loss, And if bold counsels could restore the dead We would not fail you. Let us therefore hope You come to help us curb the headstrong rashness, 23 ITS ERM1NIA. Which would add wrong to \MY ERNIMA. H;.\ v I r.oi That from his sacred memory this disgrace Should be effaced with blood ? Within my soul There is a strength that would overthrow a world, Rather than vengeance should elude my grasp ! MANKLLI. Fair cousin, this is frenzy. EBMIN1A. Would it were ! And yet my reason tells me but one sun Hath risen and set, since, in this very hall, There stood a maid beset with flatterers ; By power, rank, wealth, and love adorned, she was A diuering mark for moths to flutter round. Quenched are those lights which cast their splendor o er me ! My noble lover false ! My father dead ! Am I that same Erminia ? Are you they Who yesterday were proud to do me homage ? FIFANTI. Sweet lady, heed them not, for we are sworn To uphold thy cause, despite their coldness. ERMINIA. Thanks ! I know ye true, but still I must lament That in so many here the noble blood K M I N f A . 170 Is quite dried up by warm prosperity, Or lies so stagnant, that t is mantled o er With such a scum of cowardice and caution At fickens the beholder. You, 8ignor, [To one of the MALESPINI. ft. was who swore, while sun and moon and stars Held on their course, you were my faithful servant. T is some few hours since I have looked abroad ; I know not how the planets may have moved ; But, as I dare not to impeach your honor, I must believe that ;jll the hosts of heaven Have wandered from their spheres. I d rather think Such portents were abroad, than doubt your word. GENTLEMAN. Lady, you do me right ; my sword is yours. OTHERS. And mint; ! And mine ! O gentlemen, all thank. ! MANELLI. You cannot dream the dangers you invoke ! ERMINIA. My dreams are of dishonor. O, if they Who poison in the earth the healthful springs Of life-bestowing moisture, that each wretch Who drinks must fall a bloated, loathsome corse, If they must stand accursed, what merits he Who taints the heart s pure springs, whose venom glides 180 E R M I N I A . Unseen, yet deadly, through each quivering nerve ? O er every sense dark clouds of horror roll, And pleasure, peace, and hope at once expire ! Aghast the shivering soul beholds her doom ; The past is agony, the future dread ; The present living death ! I am a wretch So racked, so blasted O, the lowest fiends May revel in their ceaseless flames, and shout, That earth holds one more tortured far than they ! This lord or I must fall. Resolve ! LAMBERTI. We are resolved. Submission to this wrong were endless shame. Blood, only blood, can cleanse the scornful outrage. Alone would I maintain this cause, but here Good knights and true array themselves with me. MALESPINI. These transports wrong us much : we re true as those Who noise their friendship by the clash of swords. We would reflect, ere haste to sow dissension L. AMIDEI. Dissension has been sown, is grown, and ripened, And we would have it reaped. MANELLI. Yet pause : no house So powerful in Florence as this lord s ; None counts allies so numerous and so strong. This is no question of a private vengeance, E R M I N I A . 181 Or private feud ; the peace of Florence hangs On your decision ; the first blow you aim Looses the horrors of intestine war Upon our state. LAMBERTI. This insult unredressed, We all become a mark for scorn. Who knows Where next the shaft of discord may alight ? Look to yourselves, my lords, ye who invite Contempt, and see your household sanctity Invaded, and your daughters peace a jest ! Beware of such an end ! L. AMIDEI. Will ye unite In fair Erminia s cause, or give your swords To this false knight, and turn their hostile points Against your kinsmen ? for full well ye know There is no neutral course. Choose, choose, my lords ! GENTLEMEN OF THE HOUSES OF MALESPINI AND MANELLI. Our choice is made ! Our hearts and swords are pledged To Amidei and Erminia ! EEMINIA. O gentlemen, all thanks ! Now can I hie Back to the chamber of the honored dead, Resume my mournful watch, calm in the faith That reparation waits his sacred shade. Farewell ! the saints watch over ye ! [Exit ERMINIA. 182 E R M I N I A . ALL. Farewell ! MANELLI. Ah, t is a grievous plight ! but, since the deed Is now resolved, I would to Heaven t were done. LAMBERTI. They who would see an enterprise concluded Must first commence it. FIFANTI. When shall ours commence ? L. AMIDEI. To-morrow s Easter-day. Here meet we then, To pay our hapless kinsman the last dues Earth claims from earth. Then will we name the hour Of our revenge. Till then, Signers, adieu ! [Exeunt severally. E R M I N I A . 183 ACT V. SCENE I. The chapel. ERMINIA, LEONORA, LAMBERTI, L. AMIDEI, FIFANTI, and UBERTI discovered. ERMINIA. T is finished ! From my eyes for ever hid Is my sole earthly friend ! I am alone ! Dear father, never more thy voice of love Shall welcome me each morn to happy days ! No more when night returns wilt thou pronounce Thy sacred blessing on Erminia s head ! O had I never loved but thee, my sire, Thou hadst not left me thus ! I am chastised In thy deep loss, for seeking happiness Beyond a parent s pure devotion, and For sharing with another the fond heart Whose every thought should have been only thine ! LEONORA. Dear, dear Errninia, give thy sorrows rest ! Peace is with him thou mournest ; on that thought Repose thy harassed soul. Thou art unjust For grieving o er thy father ; thou forgett st 184 E R M I N I A . That from a brighter sphere he still regards thee, Freed from the weight of dull mortality. ERMINIA. O what has grief to do with reason ? They Are stubborn foes, and cannot dwell together ; For grief in her strong frenzy brooks no rival. And rudely overthrows calm reason s seat, And reigns alone. O mock me not with reason, But aid me to lament, and lend me tears, For there is such a fire within my brain As doth forbid my aching eyes to find Relief in weeping ! O, I know no hope Save in grim Death, and he is treacherous, And answers not my call ! LEONORA. I 11 weep with thee, And for thee, hapless friend ! ERMINIA. Oceans of tears Could not allay my anguish ! Memory Will not be drowned till life is swept away By time s devouring flood ! LAMBERTI. Look on thy friends ; Nor vex their tenderness with thy wild grief. Could thy sire s accents penetrate the cloud Which screens the immortal from the mortal world, Would he not bid thee, even for his love, Forego thy mournful plaint ? E R M I N I A . 185 ERMINIA. O, no ! O, no ! He would not be so treacherous to himself. O, no ! He bids me haste to him and hide My grief and shame in his protecting arms. He doth reproach me, that I still can live, When he, who gave me life, hath died for me. Ah, never can I cease to call on death, Till the grim tyrant, wearied with my cries, Shall rid him of my importunity By chaining me within my father s tomb ! LEONORA. O, rave no more, Erminia ! ERMINIA. Call me not By that name longer ; for Erminia was All love, all joy, all pride, and happiness, All trusting fondness and unwavering faith ! But in my heart a host of fiends have risen ; Shame, wrath, revenge, despair, infernal tempters, With scorpion stings destroy each gentler guest. UBERTI. Be it our care to soothe thy pangs. Believe That hope again shall dawn for thee, and chase Far from thy heart these perilous griefs. Have pa tience ! For here stand thy avengers, thine to death. We four are chosen by our partisans 24 186 E R M I N I A . To immolate the foe, whose perfidy Hath made thee fatherless. ERMINIA. O treacherous Guido ! [Faints. LEONORA. Aid me ! Erminia dies ! Lamberti, help ! LAMBERTI. Wait for me, friends, while to her couch I bear This lovely victim. Such a sight must make The angels lend their voices to our cause ! [Exeunt LAMBERTI, LEONORA, and ERMINIA. FIFANTI. My sword already rattles in its sheath, Impatient to avenge her. L. AMIDEI. Guide s blood Will cleanse the stain from Amidei s shield ; But what shall heal the crushed and bleeding heart Of the betrayed ? She seems no more like one Whose home is earth ; but ere her spirit mounts To the bright realms of peace, his howling soul Shall find its guerdon in the realms below ! FIFANTI. When shall we forth ? UBERTI. Lamberti has the charge To choose the hour and place of retribution. (ReSnter LAMBERTI.) ERMINIA. 187 LAMBERTI. To-day, if ever, let our vengeance burst. Heavy and sure, upon the offender s head. To-day, I learn, he thinks to cross the bridge, And pass this house. The blinded traitor dreams, Perchance, that heaven and earth forget his crime. UBERTI. O, never must he see these portals more ! Never must his insulting glance be raised Towards these walls, whose very stones cry out Against his guilt ! Ere he hath crossed the bridge He dies ! Beneath the statue of fierce Mars We will assail him : with his forfeit life Our shame shall vanish ! LAMBERTI. And the perjurer s blood Rush, a libation to the ruthless Mars, Beneath whose frown he falls. O, may the reign Of falsehood ever be as short as his ! Ye are prepared, my friends ? L. AMIDEI. We are. Lead on. [Exeunt. 188 E R M I N I A . SCENE II. A chanitter. ERMINIA discovered alone. ERMINIA. I SEEM awakening from a fearful dream ; My brain s benumbed ; a dim, oppressive sense Of evil clouds my thoughts. Where have I been ? What horrors seen and heard ? Let me recall The past again ; for since the fatal hour When to my startled ear, like a death-trump, Came Guide s perfidy, passion hath burst From reason s guiding hand. What have I done, What said, what sworn, in my insensate course ? How blindly sought to quench the fires of pride And jealousy s hot stings with cold disdain And unrelenting vengeance ! Bootless strife ! Mine is no Fury s heart. The smothered strength Of love revives ! And I have sought his death Who was my life ! O, were it not a crime, I should say is, and yet but little crime, For little span of life remains to me ! False though he be, what power condemns my truth ? O, let me bear that with me to the tomb, Sole treasure of my early blighted hopes ; And rather let me die in gentle sorrow, Than live the cherisher of unholy rage ! E R M I N I A . 189 O, welcome, heavenly light, whose dawn illumes My wayward course ! best comforter, thy rays Have banished my despair ; for innocence May hope that Time s consoling hand will bring Peace upon earth, and point to rest in heaven ; But where, O, where shall guilt repose ? where hide When conscience wakes ? O, happier the betrayed Than the betrayer ! Yet I sought his life, Death s seal on my own brow, within my heart His rankling arrow ! And although t was aimed By Guido s hand, th almighty surnmoner Must first have given the mandate. Must I go With blood upon my soul ? Have mercy, Heaven ! Father, my oath hangs heavy on my heart ! O Virgin Mother, counsel me ! Which way Shall I undo what I have done ? restrain The passions I have spurred ? What said Uberti Of my avengers ? Ah, perhaps even now They are about this deed ! Is there no help ? Yes, I will fly to save ! Alas, I shrink ! O woman s pride, where art thou ? In the dust Bow thy repentant head ! Away, away, All mean regards ! Shall mortal weakness stand Twixt me and Heaven ? Here, Leonora, haste ! (Enter LEONORA.) LEONORA. What would my friend ? ERM1NIA. Where are those gentlemen ? 190 E R M I N I A . LEONORA. Gone. ERMINIA. Whither ? LEONORA. Why these questions ? ERMINIA. Palter not ! A life, a soul, hangs on thy word ! How pale Thou art ! Speak ! speak ! LEONORA. Towards the bridge. ERMINIA. And with what purpose ? LEONORA. Whence this new distraction ? ERMINIA. It is too plain ! O Time, be merciful ! LEONORA. Stay ! thou art mad ! (Exit ERMINIA.) Stay ! I will follow thee ! [Exit LEONORA. E R M I N I A . 191 SCENE III. A bridge upon the ARNO. At one extremity a statue of MARS. Enter BUONDELMONTI and Rossi. BUONDELMONTI. SEE ! we approach my former love s abode. Think st thou she weeps for me ? ROSSI. My lord, she weeps A truer friend ; to-day the funeral rites Are paid to Amidei. BUONDELMONTI. Paid to whom ? ROSSI. Her father. BUONDELMONTI. He was well but y ester-morn. ROSSI. Thou shouldst know well as any how great change Short time effects ; t was yesterday he died. BUONDELMONTI. And why have I not heard it ? ROSSI. T was not well To cloud your bridal day with news of death. 192 E R M I N I A . BUONDELMONTI. Know you his illness ? ROSSI. Rage and shame, my lord, At your defection. BUONDELMONTI. Peace ! it could not be ! Yet he was old, and loved his daughter well. I 11 order masses at Saint Stephen s church For his repose. Methinks his obsequies Are strangely hurried. But what dusky forms Are now emerging from the palace ? Look ! ROSSI. Doubtless his kinsmen and our foes. Should they Espy us here, they will not spare us. BUONDELMONTI. Pshaw ! Too long we loiter. Let us on, my friend. ROSSI. Past Amidei s mansion ? BUONDELMONTI. Wherefore not ? ROSSI. Nothing ; save that upon this day t were best To avoid a quarrel. BUONDELMONTI. I neither seek nor shun it. T is theirs to choose ; theirs be the shame. We 11 see E R M I N I A . 193 Who dares to brave a feud with Buondelmonti ! (Enter LAMBERTI, UBERTI, L. AMIDEI, and FIFANTI.) LAMBERTI. Behold, Lamberti dares it ! L. AMIDEI. Amidei ! UBERTI. Uberti and Fifanti ! BUONDELMONTI. Four gainst two ! Thanks, gentlemen ; you pay tribute to our prowess. Say, Signer Rossi, shall we quit this debt ? LAMBERTI. Not so, my lord. Your second must give place. We understand him, and my friends will guard Against his treachery. You, sir, are known A gentleman of knightly skill, and valor Full often proved. Essay that skill and valor Against my sword, a weapon not untried. BUONDELMONTI. Most willingly, and thanks. But in what cause ? LAMBERTI. Thou hast wronged a lady who deserves all honor, And hurried to the grave a noble lord, Long spared by time to aid his country s councils ; But spared, alas ! for a new foe, disgrace, He fell beneath its touch into that tomb Upon whose brink so long he d feebly wandered. 25 194 E R M I N I A . Draw, villain ! draw ! and, if thou canst, defend Thy worthless life ! BUONDELMONTI. Villain to me, Lamberti ! Methinks thou rt zealous to avenge the maid Whose smiles you vainly sought. Perhaps they 11 prove The promised guerdon of thy chivalry. LAMBERTI. Base railler, draw ! I would not murder thee. The hangman s hands were fitter far to end Thy hated life than honorable steel. [They fight, and BUONDELMONTI falls. BUONDELMONTI. My punishment is just ! Erminia s wrongs Required this retribution. Ah, she comes To triumph in her vengeance ! Haste thee, death, Lest her eye give a wound far more severe Than her avenger s sword. [Dies. (Enter ERMINIA and LEONORA.) ERMINIA. O Heaven ! too late ! (Enter the WIDOW DONATI and COSTANZA.) WIDOW. What bloody scene is here ? COSTANZA. My husband ! slain ! LAMBERTI. Thy husband, siren ! Ay, thine even in death ! E R M I N I A . 195 For ye must meet in those dire realms below, Where perfidy receives its hideous doom. Gaze on the triumph of thy vanity ! For this shall Florence curse thy memory Through years of furious war. WIDOW. O, let thy tongue Curse me alone ! but tenfold curses rest Upon thy murderous hand LAMBERTI. Vain woman, peace ! Erminia, let me lead thee hence ; thou seest Thy wrongs effaced. Come ! Heavens, thou faintest ! ERMINIA. No! LAMBERTI. Let me support thee ; come ! ERMINIA. I cannot hence ! Not yet. Let me behold his face once more ! My father, frown not on me ! Thou rt obeyed, E en to the brink of everlasting woe ! And now away each vain disguise ! Away, Thou demon, pride, that in thy serpent folds Wouldst crush my heart ! Come pity, scorn, disgrace, I brave ye all ! Here, where I should have lived, Here let me die ! Guido, return, return ! Thou hear st not, seest not, know st not my despair. 196 E R M I N I A . But Heaven is merciful ! My veins are chilled, My limbs benumbed to marble ! On my lip I feel death s icy breath, O, breath of paradise To my sick heart ! All things below fade from me, But there above Stay, Guido, stay ! I come ! [Dies. LAMBERTI. Most loved and most deplored of Tuscan maids, Ne er shall the heavy cause of so much woe Sink to oblivion, but late happy Florence With tears of blood commemorate thy doom ! THE NEW WORLD. DRAMATIS PERSONS. HERNANDO DE GUEVARA, . . A young Spanish Noble, \ Chief Judge of the Island FRANCISCO ROLDAN, . . . < [_ of Hayti) or Espanola. ADRIAN DE MOXICA, ~j DIEGO DE ESCOBAR, > , . Adherents of Roldan. PEDRO REGUELME, J BEHECHIO, Cacique of Xaragua. ANACAONA, Sister to JBehechio. ALANA, Her Daughter. Train of Xaraguan Maidens. Spaniards. Indians. The SCENE is in the Province ofXaragua t in tfte Island of Hayti. THE NEW WORLD. ACT I. SCENE I. A grove before ROLDAN S dwelling. ROLDAN , DE ESCOBAR, DE MOXICA, REGUELME, and other Spaniards. ROLDAN. AT length, my friends, our triumph is complete ! In yielding we are conquerors ! Colon No longer dares oppress the sons of Spain, But, awed by our resistance to his sway, Resigns his hope t enslave us. Here behold The treaty which our firmness has obtained ! The Admiral empowers me to resume My office of chief judge ; restores my lands ; Grants me extensive tracts within this province, With slaves to till the soil. For you, my friends, Whose loyal aid enabled me to hold The viceroy thus at bay, I have required As just conditions ; liberal grants of land, And, stead of tribute from the native chiefs, It is arranged that parties of their subjects, At stated times, shall aid to cultivate 26 202 THE NEW WORLD. The soil allotted to you. On these terms We are agreed to lay aside our arms, And rest content beneath the viceroy s rule. REGUELME. Noble Alcalde, let us here repeat Our former vows of fealty ! To you We owe our freedom ! When the Admiral, Departing for Spain s shores, gave to his brothers, Without authority from Ferdinand, The government of Hayti, you it was Descried the bonds they wished to rivet on us, And roused us to resistance. Led by you We still have triumphed. Here let each renew Thanks for the past ! Let all here bend the knee, Tendering their vows of future faith ! Alcalde, Receive my homage ! [All kneel. EOLDAN. Thanks, my noble friends ! Roldan is not ungrateful, and by deeds Would show his sense of favor. I appoint Reguelme the Alcalde of Bonao. REGUELME. Alcalde, you overwhelm me by thus adding New benefits to those before conferred. Your gifts make me your slave. ROLDAN. My valued friend : Ever remain so. For you, Escobar, THE NEW WORLD. 2Q3 And De Moxica, and all others here To whom I owe support, the Admiral Has portioned out your lands within this province ; No lovelier spot on earth has e er been found ; None worthier to be the soldier s home. Here will we rest us from the toils of war, Secure from care ; here all is peace and joy. Nature with lavish hand bestows her gifts ; Let us enjoy them, and forget the world That lies beyond these valleys. ALL. Live Roldan ! His will is ours ! ROLDAN. My friends, your generous faith Is dearer far than all the glittering wealth This Western world can give. If tyranny Should dare again uprear her serpent head, Roldan is yours to crush again the foe. Will t please you now retire ? Ere long we 11 meet For further council. You, De Escobar, Remain with me. (Exeunt all but DE ESCOBAR.) Confess, De Escobar, That this rebellion is a thriving trade ! ESCOBAR. It has proved so with us ; thanks to the times, And to our leader ! Were the first less roueh, 204 THE NEW WORLD. The second less determined, and less skilled In all those arts that win the populace, We should have rued the attempt. Still, though success Has crowned our enterprise, you have not reached The prize at which you grasped, the government. ROLDAN. But I am well content. Know, Don Diego, That in Xaragua I have found a prize Worth all the spoils of Hayti ! ESCOBAR. Ah ! a mine ? ROLDAN. A young, fair girl. ESCOBAR. Ambition yields to love ! ROLDAN. Reserve your smiles till you have seen the maid, For, by my patron saint, such matchless charms The Old World never saw ! ESCOBAR. Who is this wonder ? ROLDAN. Anacaona s daughter, young Alana, Whose sire, the proud cacique, Caonabo, Died of a broken heart, when, as a captive, He voyaged late to Spain. ESCOBAR. You think to win THE NEW WORLD. 205 This Western flower ? Perchance her vows are given To some young chieftain of her native isle. ROLDAN. Her heart is free as are the sun s bright rays, And shall ere long be mine ! But see, who comes ? Behechio, the cacique. (Enter BEHECHIO.) Welcome, prince ! What happy chance directs your steps this way ? BEHECHIO. One of my tribe brings news, that not far hence, Within the valley, a young Spaniard waits, Who seeks your friend Don Adrian, or yourself. ROLDAN. A stranger, chieftain, or one of my band ? BEHECHIO. My people know him not. ROLDAN. Thanks, chieftain, thanks, For your prompt warning ! I will hasten forth, Though now I Ve little dread of foes. Perchance This stranger is some envoy from Columbus. If such, he shall be welcomed with due state. [Exeunt. 206 THE NEW WORLD. SCENE II. A different part of the valley. GUEVARA discovered alone. GUEVARA. So, this is banishment ! to be condemned To dwell awhile in paradise ! It proves That chastisement is sometimes love. The ship In which I should have sailed for Spain is gone, And here, thanks to my sentence, I can rest, Until I m wearied e en of happiness. This clime was formed for bliss ! Where er I turn, New beauties meet my eye. Granada s plains, So rich in nature s charms that legends say The Moorish heaven hangs over them, must yield In splendor to Xaragua s vales. But hark ! [Drums and trumpets heard. What martial sound breaks on the slumbering air ? Trumpets and drums rude notes dispel the charm Which made me quite forget that this sweet grove, With all its beauty, was of earth. I see A numerous train, with all the pomp of war, Move slowly on. Is this to honor me ? Or rages discord mid these blooming scenes ? Near and more near they come ; I now descry Their leader s waving plume and glittering spear ; How beautiful the sight, as on they march, THE NEW WORLD. 207 Beneath the verdant boughs of those huge trees ! My pulses bound anew with knightly ardor ! Fled are th effeminate dreams of ease, in which These soft, luxurious scenes ensnared rny soul ! Now, now I feel what folly t was to brave Columbus wrath, and so blot out my name From the immortal roll on which the world, In future days, shall read the glorious deeds Of those who gave to light these Western shores. The die is cast ! I m less than nothing here : So let me haste to Spain, and once agajn Stand forth among her chivalry, nor dream, In base, inglorious ease, my life away ! Castile ! Castile ! O, would that I were there ! (Enter ROLDAN, DE ESCOBAR, DE MOXICA, REGUELME, and a numerous train of Spaniards. ) DE MOXICA (advancing to GUEVARA). Hernando ! GUEVARA. Adrian ! [They embrace. DE MOXICA. Most welcome, cousin ! ROLDAN. Most welcome to Xaragua, Don Hernando ! De Escobar, Reguelme, all my friends Are known to you, I think. REGUELME. Welcome, my friend ! What tidings do you bring 208 THE NEW WORLD. From the great city and the Admiral ? DE ESCOBAR. Most welcome, Don Hernando ! Would you see How well rebellion prospers in this province, That you have left the viceroy s retinue, To grace Xaragua with your presence ? GUEVARA. Knights, I thank your courtesy ; but let me ask, Why you approach me with an armed train ? Me thinks, to greet a friend and countryman No war array was needed ! DE ESCOBAR. It was meant That your reception should be framed to suit The rank you hold. I pray you let us know What title may be yours, if you are termed The viceroy s spy or his ambassador ? DE MOXICA. De Escobar, this insult to my friend DE ESCOBAR. May be avenged, if he can wield a sword ! ROLDAN. Back ! back ! This quarrel s idle ! What ! so soon Wearied of peace that you would slay your friends ! De Escobar, what means this insolence ? It should have been for me to ask the cause That brings Guevara here. Serior, I pray you, THE NEW WORLD. 209 Excuse this rudeness ! T is so short a time Since it was needful to maintain strict watch, That we still deem each visitor a foe Until we know his purpose. GUEVARA. No excuse, Senor, is needed. I have learned, ere this, That pardoned rebels still dread punishment ; Still by their perfidy judge others faith. Believe me, this reception moves me not, Or moves me but to laughter, that one knight Should cause commotion in your numerous train. ROLDAN. Are you an envoy of the viceroy ? GUEVARA. No. I am a banished man, and ordered here But to embark for Spain. DE MOXICA. How ? banished, cousin How has Columbus dared assume such sway Over a high-born Spanish cavalier ? GUEVARA. It matters not ; the viceroy disapproved My conduct, and dismissed me from his suite. Arriving here, I found the fleet had sailed, So thought to task your hospitality. 27 210 THE NEW WORLD. ROLDAN. T is freely given for your own sake, Senor, And for your cousin s. Rest with us, I pray, Until you re weary of this Western world, And pine for Spain. GUEVARA. Thanks for your courtesy ! But on these shores I may not long remain. I cannot rest inactive ; here, the field Of knightly enterprise is closed to me. Spain must again receive me on her soil ; My sword need not rust there. DE ESCOBAR. There speaks Castile ! Guevara, in all honorable frankness, I pray your pardon for my rash suspicions ! While I esteemed you of Columbus train, My heart was closed against you. I was Wrong. So there s my hand. GUEVARA. And mine. ROLDAN (to GUEVARA). The Indian drum ! Behechio, cacique of this province, Comes with his followers to welcome you. (Enter BEHECHIO, followed by a number of his tribe.) BEHECHIO. Roldan, I haste to offer to your friend THE NEW WORLD. 211 The welcome, which it is my will and duty, As chieftain of this province, to extend To every stranger. ROLDAN. Hospitality Dwells ever with Behechio. Behold My countryman, Hernando de Guevara, Who fain would see the paradise of Hayti Ere he returns to Spain, his native land. BEHECHIO. Young stranger, you are welcome to Xaragua. If you have sought it with no ill intent, I trust you may find pleasure in its vales. All they contain are yours while you remain Behechio s guest ; their fragrant flowers and fruits, The dwellers of the lake, of earth, and air, Are at your service ; so Behechio wills it. If your designs are evil, may the God Who rules us both preserve this peaceful land And happy people from your influence ! GUEVARA. I thank your kindness, chieftain, and, believe me, No evil wishes lurk within my breast Against your people ; may they long remain Peaceful and happy ! In Xaragua I m but a passing guest. A few short days Will see me pillowed on the ocean s breast, Wooing your Western gales to waft me hence, 212 THE NEW WORLD. Towards my natives shores. Those shores, indeed, Are far less peaceful and less beautiful Than thine own groves ; but, O, they re far more dear ! ROLDAN. Lo, where approach Xaragua s fair, to greet The arrival of the stranger ! (Enter a long train of Indian maidens, with ALANA at their head, bearing in their hands palm-branches .) Look, my friend, Upon these island beauties, and decide Between them and the vaunted dames of Spain. (ALANA moves aside, the other maidens kneel and place the palms at GUEVARA S feet.) MAIDENS. Welcome, O stranger, to Xaragua s plains ! ROLDAN. And see, the fair Anacaona comes, Moving in state ; Behechio s sister she, And widow of the chieftain Caonabo. Among her tribe she s honored as a queen. Pay her due reverence, she is worthy of it ! [Aside to GUEVARA. (Enter ANACAONA, escorted by Indian maidens and warriors.) ROLDAN. Princess, let me present my worthy friend, The cavalier Hernando de Guevara. ANACAONA. The cavalier is welcome to my home ; THE NEW WORLD. 213 Anacaona is the Spaniard s friend. GUEVARA. Princess, my people own your constant kindness, And are most grateful. For myself, I feel Much honored by a welcome so distinguished. I am a simple Spanish cavalier, Without authority upon your shores, And had no right to hope that such reception Would wait me from the princes of the land ! ANACAONA. Think not, O youth, that to the great alone We haste to offer hospitality ; The name of stranger claims its sacred rites. DE ESCOBAR. Which is your island goddess ? [Aside to ROLDAN. ROLDAN. She who stands Apart, and silently surveys the scene. De Escobar, mark with what native grace And dignity she s stamped ! Not such the mien With which our high-born dames of Spain are seen ! In them art faintly mocks the noble air Which nature here bestows without constraint. [Aside. BEHECHIO. Roldan, the feast awaits us ; with your friends Haste to partake it. ROLDAN. Chief, we follow you. [Exeunt. 214 THE NEW WORLD. ACT II. SCENE I. A grove, with a fountain in its centre. ANACAONA S dwelling in the background. BEHECHIO and ANACAONA. BEHECHIO. ANOTHER Spaniard ! Thus each day, each hour, Brings on these locusts of that far world ! Soon All Hayti will be theirs, and we their slaves ! Cursed be the light that to their longing eyes Displayed these shores ! Cursed be the favoring winds Which bore their winged canoes across the waves, Nor rent each beam asunder ! ANACAONA. Brother, why This sudden rage ? What is t disturbs thee thus ? BEHECHIO. O, blinded to thy fate ! What dost thou ask ? Seest thou not day by day these Spaniards wrest Our freedom from us, yet canst coldly ask, What is t disturbs thee ? ANACAONA. Is there some new wrong ? THE NEW WORLD. 215 In yon fair-spoken Spaniard hast thou found A hidden foe ? BEHECHIO. T is not on one, but all, That my thoughts turn. How short a time has passed Since he whom in their foreign tongue they term Adelantado, brother to Colon, Entered our province with a warlike train, And asked and offered friendship ! Mark the end ! His followers return, their avarice And love of ease incited by these vales, Where Nature s hand provides with lavish care For Nature s children. Quickly they report The beauties of Xaragua, and, behold ! Ere long Roldan and his rebellious band Take refuge here from justice. ANACAONA. You received And welcomed them. BEHECHIO. True. Think st thou that I cared When these oppressive strangers left their prey, To turn and rend each other ? My word was pledged T afford my friendship to all Spaniards, nor Had I the power, whatever were my will, To guard my province from intrusion. ANACAONA. But 216 THENEWWORLD. Why are you now thus roused ? Nor by Roldan, Nor by his band, have we been wronged, and now They re yielded to their chief, and are content To cease their strife. BEHECHIO. And turn their restless fury Again upon our people ! O my country ! Once free and happy, how art thou declining ! ANACAONA. Behechio, why thus afflict yourself ? Why ever dwell upon the gloomiest side Of our affairs ? Reflect how much more wise These strangers are than we ; how wonderful Their knowledge seems to us ! Compare their ships, Which dare the angry waves, to our canoes ; Compare the dwellings which they raise with ours ; Note well their dress, th impenetrable garb Which bids befiance to the bow and spear ! Behold their weapons too, alas, how deadly ! A thousand, thousand things at once display Our ignorance and their skill. T is by the last They conquer us. Then let us rather seek To win from them the wisdom which is power, Than risk unequal strife. O mighty race ! BEHECHIO. And mightiest still in vice ! ANACAONA. O, say not so ! THE NEW WORLD. 217 Behold Columbus and his warlike brother ! BEHECHIO. Ay, they are good and great, as Spaniards may be ; No avarice inspires them ; yet their hands Are stained with Haytien blood ! ANACAONA. Not willingly They shed it, but, alas ! in self-defence ; They were the aggrieved. BEHECHIO. Woman, rememberest thou Thy husband, the proud Carib, Caonabo ? Whose hands placed fetters on his free-born limbs ? Who tore him from his home, his wife, his child, And bore him in their ships far from the land Dear to his soul ? He died, Anacaona ! His eagle eye gazed madly on the bonds Which Spanish craft threw round him, and he died ! Not on the battle-field, where his strong arm Was ever first ; not mid his faithful tribe Did he depart ; but far on unknown waves His spirit fainted, and his proud form drooped ; T was there he died, died of a broken heart ! ANACAONA. Behechio, spare, O, spare me ! BEHECHIO. Spare thee ? No ! Listen, while I recount the mighty deeds 28 218 THE NEW WORLD. Of Spanish friends ! Hast thou forgotten yet The day, the fatal day, when down they rushed On Caonabo s brother, who had called His tribe to avenge their chieftain s loss ? Then, then, Burst the loud thunder and the brilliant flash Forth from the echoing forest, and thy friends, Like autumn leaves, were strewn upon the plain. Soon on their giant coursers came the foe Forth from their covert ; lance, and spear, and sword Drank Haytien blood, and o er the prostrate forms Of Hayti s sons careered the horses ; then They loosed the furious bloodhound on thy friends, Which, not more savage than their Spanish lords, Sprang at the throats, tore out the quivering hearts ANACAONA. Cease ! I entreat thee, cease ! Must I endure Again the tortures of that scene of woe ? Had Caonabo listened to my words He still had lived and reigned. Too well I saw That gainst the weapons of the Spanish band No Haytien could stand, and counselled peace. My words were vain, and vain are now my tears. But, O Behechio, be ruled by me ! Thy vales are fruitful, and thy tribe at peace ; The Spaniards are thy friends ; O, let no rashness Destroy this peace, and desolate thy land ! BEHECHIO. The warning is not needed. No vain hopes THE NEW WORLD. 219 Shall lead me to embroil my hapless tribe In useless strife. No ; though their doom must come, Let me not haste it ! May I never live To see my people s misery ! to see Their hopeless ruin ! for the day is near When all their joys must end ; when slavery And labor harsh shall chase the dance and song Of the cool evening hours ! O, never more Shall liberty and ease resume their reign ! Sorrow, and toil, and care, the conqueror s sword, Will do their work, and our unhappy race Must vanish fast beneath them ! But I see Alana comes this way. Let us retire, Nor darken with our griefs her sunny smiles. [Exeunt. (Enter ALANA.) ALANA. How my heart beats ! I thought some one pursued, And, turning, caught the gleam of mail, then fled. No one appears, so here I will repose, And dream of days before these strangers came To fill our valleys with the noise of war. Hark ! hear I not a step ? No ; all is still. I feared it was Roldan who followed me, To fill my ear with tedious words of love. To-day I like him less than yesterday ; Yet know not why, for he s the same as then ; Perhaps I m changed ; but I 11 not think of him. I 11 throw myself beside this sparkling fount, 220 THE NEW WORLD. List to its gentle murmurs, and inhale The breeze that sports amid this verdant grove. [Seats herself by the fountain, and gazes into it. (GUEVARA enters gently behind and bends over her ; she sees his face reflected in the water, and starts up ivith a faint shriek.) GUEVARA. Fair wood-nymph, fly me not ! If I am bold In entering thy retreat, thy charms will plead Most eloquently my excuse ! ALANA. Senor, Xaraguan maids ask not the stranger s homage ; They are content to charm Xaraguan youths, Whose hearts know no deceit. GUEVARA. So young, so fair, And yet so stern ! Say, maiden, why you fled When late I sought to stay your passing steps. ALANA. I thought I feared GUEVARA. Am I so terrible ? ALANA. I feared it was Roldan who followed me. GUEVARA. Ha ! here is rivalry ! (Aside.) Then I may hope You did not fly from me ? ALANA. I thought not of you. THE NEW WORLD. 221 GUEVARA. That answer might beseem a court coquette ! [Aside. Maiden, I have a sister, young like you, Who mourns my absence from my father s home, With no kind friend to smile away my cares, Or share my sorrows ; could that sister think That in this Western land there was a maid, Young, fair, and gentle, who d compassionate Her brother s lonely fate, what gratitude Would move her tender breast ! She could not think That Western maids would spurn the stranger s heart. ALANA. Nay, judge us not so harshly ; we but fear His flattery. GUEVARA. Can Western lovers gaze On beauty s cheek, nor let the heart s emotion Burst forth from lip and eye ? Ah, not so calm Our Spanish youths ! With them t is Beauty s glance That prompts to deeds of glory, Beauty s smile That well repays all peril. Tell them not In Beauty s presence to repress their rapture, Nor let their lips proclaim their soul s devotion. Vain is the wish to bar love s privilege. Thus do they kneel, and pay the homage due, And plead, as now I plead, for Beauty s favor. ALANA. How can I answer you ? I dare not think 222 THE NEW WORLD. Your words are more than sport. I pray you, know That Western hearts, though not less soft and true Than those of other climes, yet do not yield To those who seek them but in idleness. Nor prize the love they win. Stranger, t is said That Spanish youths, although with many vows They bind themselves, know naught of constancy, But each fair maid in turn adore, and pledge Their broken faith anew. GUEVARA. Let not thy heart Harbour suspicion. T is the foulest guest That ever clouded the sweet sympathies Of youthful maiden s breast. In sober truth, I love thee, fair Alana ; for my love Grant me some little hope to win thy heart. ALANA. Alas, I fear that t is already won ! [Aside. I cannot say I must begone ; I hear A Stranger s footsteps. [She hurries into the cottage. GUEVARA. Like a timid fawn She bounds away, but bears within her breast The subtle dart of love. How beautiful ! The untamed daughter of the wilderness ! May it be mine to bear this graceful flower To other climes, and show the proud Old World That the chief treasure of these Western shores THE NEW WORLD. 223 Lies not in gold or gems, but woman s charms ! (Enter DE ESCOBAR.) DE ESCOBAR. I joy to see that in this calm retreat Time hangs not heavily upon your hands. You miss not, then, the viceroy s mimic court ? GUEVARA. That had its pleasures, yet I mourn them not. Here Nature is omnipotent, and I Am at her shrine a fervent worshipper. DE ESCOBAR. Worship not too devoutly at the shrine Of Nature s children. GUEVARA. Escobar, your meaning DE ESCOBAR. Is plain and friendly. But a moment since You parted from Alana. GUEVARA. He who dares To play the spy upon me is my foe. DE ESCOBAR. You are too hasty. I am not your foe, But warn you for your safety. Know, Roldan Is fixed to wed this island maiden. GUEVARA. Ay? Deem st thou Roldan so dreadful, that his name 224 THE NEW WORLD. Can fright me from my will ? De Escobar, I am content that he should be my rival ; And when he will, our weapons shall decide Who best deserves to win this Haytien maid. DE ESCOBAR. Truce with your folly ! Think you he will yield To such decision his so-cherished prize ? Reflect that he is powerful, and you Without support ; why, then, provoke his wrath ? GUEVARA. His wrath may serve to fright the simple Indian ; The belted knight but scorns so poor a threat. Say to Roldan that t will be seen, ere long, Which bears the best blade and most winning tongue. [Exit. DE ESCOBAR. Go, foolish boy, rush headlong on your fate ! Buy with your life an Indian maiden s smile ! You have been warned, and I can do no more. [Exit. THE NEW WORLD. 225 ACT III. SCENE I. In ANACAONA S cottage. ROLDAN, BEHECHIO, and ANACAONA. ROLDAN. You, princess, you, Behechio, know my wish To wed Alana. Though I cannot woo In flattering phrase, trust me, you could not yield The maid to one whose love is more sincere. ANACAONA. Win, then, her own consent, and she is thine. ROLDAN. Have I your favor, chief ? BEHECHIO. I am well pleased The maiden should wed one whose arm is strong To shield her from the woes which I foresee Must overwhelm our isle. ROLDAN. Then summon her. (ANACAONA retires, and reappears with ALANA.) BEHECHIO. Now may her mother s wit have taught her how 226 THE NEW WORLD. This Spaniard must be answered ! Much I fear Her will from prudence will receive no council ! [Aside. ROLDAN. You know my love, Alana ; a blunt soldier Abhors delays, nor can with patience wait The thousand changes of the female heart. I pray you, therefore, say at once ygu re mine. ALANA. Spare me awhile, Roldan ! I cannot wed ! My heart is happier in its native freedom ! ROLDAN. Such vain excuses maidens ever make. Bestow on me that gentle, fluttering heart. I have no wish to enslave it. Sure my own, Which you ve possessed so long, may be esteemed Sufficient hostage. Speak ! ALANA. Not now ! not now ! How my head swims ! O mother, speak for me ! ROLDAN. Maiden, this trifling I ve endured too long ! Bethink you that my heart, though rude, perchance, Has softened to your charms, and been full long The slave of your caprice ; that heart has rights As well as yours, nor must they be denied. I pray you to be candid. I would know If you can be my bride. Still no reply ? Perhaps among my followers you Ve found THE NEW WORLD. 227 Some knight more worthy to possess your love ; One whose more courtly grace and courtly words Eclipse so plain a wooer as myself ! [ALANA bursts into tears and throws herself into her mother s arms. ROLDAN ivalks about as if perplexed ; then kneels to ALANA. Forgive me, loved one, if I seem too harsh ! Think that my happiness is in your power, And pardon my impatience ! Ah, those tears Reproach me more than words ! ANACAONA. Urge her no more ! Go now, nor doubt my influence in your favor. ROLDAN. Thanks, princess ! I obey. Much I suspect Some other claims an interest in her heart. Who dares to rival me may dare oppose The hurricane s fell wrath ! Farewell awhile. Chieftain, a word with you. [Exeunt ROLDAN and BEHECHIO. ANACAONA. Whence are these passionate tears ? Why do you weep As if your heart must break ? What hidden grief O erwhelms you thus ? Confide your sorrows to me. Can you not love Roldan ? ALANA. Love him ! No, no ! ANACAONA. And is he so abhorred ? You were not wont 228 THE NEW WORLD. To name him in such tones. You have done wrong To listen to his passion, if you felt Such hatred to him. ALANA. O, rebuke me not, Unless you re merciless as he ! ANACAONA. My child, Thy present misery is rebuke enough For any fault thy inexperienced youth Has led thee to commit. Yet can it be That hatred to Roldan is the sole cause Of all these bitter tears ? Answer, my child ; Is there no other reason ? Ah, that start ! Then he was right ! Who is the rival ? Who Has won this heart that beats so wildly ? Speak ! ALANA. I dare not say. Roldan s last words still ring Upon my ear with most foreboding sound. Ah, woe is me ! ANACAONA. Heed not his threats. Not all His arrogance shall win thee from me Should you consent ALANA. O, never ! ANACAONA. So resolved ? THE NEW WORLD. 229 This favored one, is he of thine own race ? A Spaniard, then ? Don Adrian ? Not so ? Guevara ? Thy emotion answers. Nay, Weep not anew ; Guevara s formed to win ! His person, grace, and eloquence of speech Might well subdue a heart more hard than thine. ALANA. Would we had never met ! Alas, I dread Roldan s stern wrath ! ANACAONA. What shouldst thou fear from him ? ALANA. I think not of myself ; but, ah, my mother, Roldan s fierce jealousy will never rest Until he learns who rivals him ! Alas, Death gleamed from his stern eye when he retired ! ANACAONA. These terrors ill become a chieftain s daughter. They live but in thy fancy. Come with me ; Subdue thy tears, and banish all thy cares. W T e will consult Behechio, and his judgment Shall guide us safely through this present trouble. [Exeunt. 230 THE NEW WORLD. SCENE II. Before ROLDAN S dwelling. DE ESCOBAR and DE MOXICA. DE MOXICA. MY friend, you re in the Alcalde s confidence ; How speeds his wooing with the Haytien maid ? DE ESCOBAR. I know he loves her, but I know no more. Why do you ask ? DE MOXICA. Because, a moment since, I saw Behechio and Roldan together ; Slowly they walked, and earnestly conferred. The chieftain s brow was clouded, and Roldan s Was black as blackest night ; as they were near Anacaona s cottage, and full oft Directed there their gestures, I inferred That her fair daughter occupied their thoughts. DE ESCOBAR. J T is possible. Roldan himself draws near ; If you are anxious, question him, I pray ; And get his dagger through you for your pains. [Aside. (DE MOXICA draws back as ROLDAN enters.) ROLDAN. A curse on woman s fickleness ! A curse THE NEW WORLD. 231 On my own folly, when I weakly thought That in this Western world the sex were free From the caprice which governs them elsewhere ! [Perceives DE MOXICA. Ha ! De Moxica ! Eavesdropping ! Begone ! Have I no privacy ? (DE MOXICA withdraws with a menacing gesture.) De Escobar, I trust your friendship ! You must aid my wrath ! DE ESCOBAR. Command me as you will. ROLDAN. Must I repeat My weakness and my shame ? Well, listen then ! When first Alana s beauty caught my eye, And with such words as lovers use I wooed her, She ne er repulsed my suit, but calmly heard, Like one whose heart was free. From this I hoped That time and my devotion might create An answering flame. But when, scarce an hour since, Sure of my prize, I offered her my hand, In presence of her mother and Behechio, She answered with evasions, sighs, and tears, Nor could my prayers or threats gain further notice. T is plain I have a rival ; who he is I know not ; to discover him, my friend, I ask your aid. 232 THE NEW WORLD. DE ESCOBAR. Guevara is the man. ROLDAN. Ah, it is possible ! May the foul fiend, Who sent him hither, rend me limb from limb, If I allow him to bear off my prize ! What shall be done to rid me of this youth Who dares to rival me in love ? DE ESCOBAR. I know not. ROLDAN. No hesitation ! Quick ! devise some plan, Or {Laying his hand on his dagger. DE ESCOBAR. Must it come to that ? Not so, Roldan ; Banish him, if you will, but harm him not. ROLDAN. Banish him ? Where ? To Isabella, whence Colon has driven him ? DE ESCOBAR. T were a jest to see The Admiral s proud form dilate with wrath At such presumption in the pardoned rebel ! ROLDAN. Jest not, De Escobar ! By all the saints, This foolish girl s so seated in my heart, That if I would I could not tear her thence ! Your counsel ! Quick, or it may come too late ! TH E NEW WORLD. 233 DE ESCOBAR. This is no scene for fiery conference. Restrain thy wrathful mood. We will devise Some fitting means. Enter ; we 11 talk within. [ They go into the house. SCENE III. Before ANACAONA S cottage. ALANA discovered, seated by the fountain. Enter GUEVARA. GUEVARA. HERE dwells my island goddess ! May she be, As heretofore, propitious to my vows ! Ah, yonder she reclines beside the fount, Like Venus gazing on her parent wave ! She weeps ! On earth who can hope happiness, When youth and innocence are prey to sorrow ? Alana, my beloved, whence are those tears ? ALANA. Fly from me, youth ! Ah, fly ! Avoid my presence ! Danger and death lurk near me ! GUEVARA. True, my love. There s danger in those eyes, whose radiant glance Has pierced my heart. There s danger in each grace Thy youthful form displays. I own thy power, And yield myself thy captive. 30 234 THE NEW WORLD. ALANA. Cease, Guevara, Nor linger here ! Even now the fierce Roldan Swears horrid vengeance gainst thee. GUEVARA. This confirms The warning of De Escobar, and now, Whilst the fair maid trembles twixt love and fear, I 11 wile the sweet confession from her lips. [Aside. Roldan may threaten as he will ; while here I offer up my homage, thou alone Fillest all my thoughts. ALANA. Guevara, O, forbear, Nor brave the Alcalde s wrath ! Should he appear, Thy life would pay the forfeit of thy rashness. GUEVARA. Whence is his sudden fury against me, To whom, so short time since, he was a stranger ? ALANA. I am the wretched cause. GUEVARA. Thou, fair one ? Thou ? Can he expect to bar all eyes save his From gazing on thy beauty, and all hearts From paying thee allegiance ? ALANA. Ah ! he fears, THE NEW WORLD. 235 He thinks he has a rival, though as yet He knows not whom. Ah, shun his jealous wrath ! GUEVARA. Jealous indeed ! If he possess that heart, Why should he rage against the hapless knight Who dares but gaze on thee, without a hope To win the treasure from him ? ALANA. Well he knows My heart was never his, and now he fears That t is bestowed elsewhere. GUEVARA. O, let me hope I have some share in it ! Turn not away, But listen to my suit. Say, by what vows Shall I convince thee of my truth ? To doubt Were cruelty. Behold, this crystal fount Shall in its glassy mirror bear such witness To my sincerity, as must remove Each shadow of a fear. See thine own charms ! Who can gaze on them and not be subdued ? Ah, yield thee, fair one ! Why shouldst thou deny To own, that, though a conqueror, thou canst pity The pangs thou dost inflict ? Give me the heart Which, trembling, flies Roldan s unknightly wooing ! Thou yieldest, gentle one ! Thy trembling hand Assures my happiness ; ah, let thy lips Pronounce me blest, and thus confirm my rapture ! 236 THE NEW WORLD. ALANA. Ah, woe is me, that Caonabo s child !Dares not declare her love, but stands in awe Of foreign tyrants ! GUEVARA. Nay, subdue those fears, And frame thy voice to words of love alone. ALANA. Guevara, I am thine ! GUEVARA. And I am blest ! ALANA. Yes, this weak heart is thine ! E en though Roldan Witn his hard-hearted followers stood near To rend me from thine arms, I would confess My fervent love, and scorn his ill-used power, Which stoops to oppress a woman ! ( ROLDAN rushes in.) ROLDAN. Art thou here, Base traitor ? Fury choaks my utterance ! But words aid not revenge ! The clash of steel Is the sole sound required ! Defend thyself ! GUEVARA. Ah ! This is to my wish ! Withdraw, fair maid, Nor fear for the result. I 11 win my bride As Caonabo s daughter should be won, By my good sword ! THE NEW WORLD. 337 ALANA. Forbear, Roldan, forbear ! Ah, pity me, and cease this horrid strife ! ROLDAN. Off, swarthy slave ! Why should I pity thee ? GUEVARA. Begone, Alana, as thou lov st me ! ALANA. Slave ! [Exit. (ROLDAN and GUEVARA fight. DE MOXICA, DE ESCOBAR, REGUELME, and others, enter and disarm the combatants.) ROLDAN. Who dares this violence ? De Escobar, Thy life shall answer this ! Unhand me, sir ! DE ESCOBAR. You 11 thank me by and by ; meanwhile, your threats Fall harmless. GUEVARA (to DE MOXICA). Adrian, off ! Is he my friend Who steps twixt me and vengeance ? DE ESCOBAR (aside to ROLDAN). Calm thy rage, Nor risk thy life in such ignoble strife ! How would your enemies exult to say That you, who should maintain strict harmony Throughout the province, idly risk your life In brawling for an Indian maiden s smiles ! You ve all to lose, and naught to gain ; for when 238 THE NEW WORLD. Guevara is removed by banishment. The game is yours again. ROLDAN. You counsel well ; But yet, such is my hatred to that youth That I should think my vengeance cheaply bought, Even at the price of life. [Exeunt ROLDAN and DE ESCOBAR. REGUELME (to GUEVARA). Explain this scene, my friend. The Indian maid, Who led us hither, said not how you roused The sleeping tiger in the Alcalde s breast. Revenge was in his eye. GUEVARA. I ve done Roldan The injury which man can least forgive, I ve won from him the maiden of his love. REGTJELME. Look to your life, then, friend ! He s not the man That will forget a wrong. You cannot know The deep-laid craft, untiring perseverance, And desperate boldness of his character. T is my advice that you should quit the province ; You 11 not be safe till then. GUEVARA. And leave my prize To the Alcalde ? No, not so, my friend. Guevara never fled from man. Roldan THE NEW WORLD. 239 May practise gainst my life, but to his craft I will oppose due caution ; open war I 11 knightlike meet ! REGUELME. Then be it as you will. But when you find your foes too many for you, Command my aid. DE MOXICA. To mine you have the right Of friendship and of blood. GUEVARA. Thanks to you both ! [Exeunt REGUELME and DE MOXICA. (ReZnter ROLDAN.) ROLDAN. A word with you, Serior. GUEVARA (laying his hand on his sword}. Ah! ROLDAN. No ; not so. I meet you not upon such terms. Attend. Within this province I am as a king ; The natives honor me ; a numerous band Of trusty followers attends my steps, To hear and execute my will ; Colon, Mid all his sounding rank and mockery Of princely state, even he had not the power To oppose me. Wherefore should st thou hope, young man, 240 THE NEW WORLD. To brave me in my strength, and bear away This Haytien maiden from my watchful care ? GUEVARA. Roldan, what right claim st thou to wed this maid, Despite her own refusal of thy hand ? ROLDAN. The right of power. GUEVARA. Ay, true ! The unknighlly taunt Suits well the plebeian lips that uttered it ! But canst thou be so base as to refuse To leave to our good swords the arbitrament Of this dispute ? ROLDAN. Why should I grant such favor ? The arbitrament s already in my hands. Why should I stake upon my weapon s thrust What is already mine ? GUEVARA. Why do I ask The churlish blood that stagnates in thy veins To flow in unison with the pure stream That warms a noble s breast ? Why should I think The low-born clown, who basely gained his power, Could wield that power with honor ? Far too much I graced thee when I crossed my sword with thine ; For thy ignoble blood would shame the blade Which ne er, before that hour, was drawn gainst one THENEWWORLD. 241 So far beneath the rank of gentleman. Coward and churl alike, thy heart knows not The throb of honor. ROLDAN. Coward, say st thou, youth ? Take back the falsehood, or GUEVARA. Or thou wilt call Thine armed minions to avenge the scorn ? No ! I repeat it, Coward ! For what is he Who dares not with his sword assert his honor ? ROLDAN. Dares not, thou misproud knight ! Full well thou know st Nor earth nor hell can show the deed I dare not ! GUEVARA. I grant it, so t is base. ROLDAN. Have I not braved The Adelantado in his upstart course, Thrown off his yoke, and even against Colon Made firm resistance, till he did me right ? GUEVARA. O, doubly base, since, with unblushing front, Thou canst adduce thy vile ingratitude To prove thy claim to courage ! No, Roldan, The courage which ennobles springs from honor. Such courage hast thou as the venomed snake, Which rears its slimy crest behind its victim, 31 242 THENEWWORLD. And in his heel inflicts the fatal wound. T was when Colon was absent that you sought By your foul calumnies to undermine His hard-earned fame, and to possess his power. But you were baffled there, thanks to our queen, Whose high Castilian blood would never give Castilian subjects to such sway as thine ! ROLDAN. And what, then, is Colon ? His ancestry Can scarce claim more respect than mine. GUEVARA. Not so. Who, when the sun slow rises from the east, Asks whence it comes ? Who, when the eagle soars On untamed pinions upward to the sky, Asks of his birthplace ? None. Columbus stands Alone, nor needs a brilliant ancestry. The glorious halo which surrounds his head Would render dim the most renowned descent ; Nor will men look beyond that blaze of fame To know if light or darkness dwell behind it. Columbus never erred, save when he raised A reptile, such as thou art, from the dust, Where, but for him, thou wouldst have crawled for aye. ROLDAN. My patience vanishes ! Yet wherefore vent My passion to my own undoing ? He Whose hands are tied may vent in wordy war THE NEW WORLD. 343 The rancor of his breast. Adieu, Senor ; You 11 learn full soon what t is to brave Roldan. [Exit. GUEVARA. The rebel caitiff ! Could I but arouse One spark of knightly ardor in his breast, Then might I hope my trusty blade would win The maid, whom much I fear will ne er be mine, While he maintains such stubborn policy ; For he has strength, and I am powerless. Accursed fate that brought me to this isle ! Why did I leave thee, Spain ? why quit the court Where happiness and honor bloomed around me ? For there each knight confessed my martial skill, Each beauteous dame smiled on me. Here Roldan, Who in our own land never could have hoped The honor of my notice, he can now Threaten a Spanish noble ! Dread his power ! Or yield my will to his ! As if I knew What t was to yield ! Not even Colon could teach Guevara such a lesson ! Let Roldan Look to himself ! The party which he formed Against Columbus may be lured to turn Against their leader. I will to the work, And teach this upstart churl how insecure Is ill-gained power. (Enter DE MOXICA.) Ah, welcome, Adrian ! DE MOXICA. Is he who brings ill tidings welcome ? 244 THE NEW WORLD. GUEVARA. Ah! Ill tidings ! Trifle not, I pray you, cousin ! DE MOXICA. You re banished to Cahay. GUEVARA. Banished ! By whom ? DE MOXICA. By whom but our Alcalde, mighty man ! Who one day for a kingdom wages war, The next is battling for a woman s favor. GUEVARA. And has he dared do this ? DE MOXICA. He dares do aught That ever mortal dared. Yet this, methinks, Is no such mighty deed ; t is but to oppress One who is powerless. GUEVARA. I will appeal Back to the viceroy gainst this flagrant wrong. DE MOXICA. Appeal thou to Roldan against Colon, And there is chance that thou mayst gain thy cause. Full well you know, that in our late rebellion, So void of means was he to take the field, He was content to purchase our submission By granting full assent to all our terms. THE NEW WORLD. 245 GUEVARA. True ; true ; I raved. What course can I pursue ? DE MOXICA. What course ? The course that leads you from this province. GUEVARA. Moxica, no ! To leave yon gentle maid, On whom my wooing draws the Alcalde s wrath, Were a foul blot upon my knightly fame ! But for my fatal love, she ne er had known Her present misery. I ve wooed and won This lovely one ; have vowed through weal or woe That my right arm should ever bear her up Upon life s stormy path ; and shall I fly From the first cloud that lowers above our heads ? When I do this, then may my knightly crest Be humbled in the dust, my spurs hewn off, My spotless shield reversed ! DE MOXICA. Hernando, hold ! Where you cannot resist, there is no shame In yielding. By my knighthood, you must go ! There s no alternative. And for the maid, Your friends will see that she s not forced to wed The Alcalde. If she s fickle, like her sex, And to the present lover most inclines, You must submit. GUEVARA. Roldan will force me hence ? 246 THE NEW WORLD. DE MOXICA. He will, Guevara. Let me give you warning ; Go, and in silence. In the Alcalde s band Are those who would not scruple to remove One whom they deemed their leader s enemy. Go to Cahay, and you may yet return. Resist, and you are lost. GUEVARA. Hear me, my friend. If I have marked aright, among the band Who with Roldan were late leagued in rebellion Are men of dauntless heart and iron hand, Devoted to Roldan while by the sword He ruled both friend and foe, but who detest The enforcer of the laws. DE MOXICA. T is even so. GUEVARA. Those disaffected spirits must be mine ! DE MOXICA. With time for combination, we 11 oppose The Alcalde s tyranny with equal force. And now, away ! His watchful myrmidons Will soon appear to enforce their lord s decree. [Exeunt. THENEWWORLD. 247 SCENE IV. ANACAONA S cottage. ANACAONA and ALANA, ALANA. AND will you longer urge me to bestow My hand upon Roldan ? Would happiness E er smile on me if linked to such a Spaniard ? His evil passions would destroy my peace. ANACAONA. Alana, I was wrong. I fondly hoped That his protection would secure my child From any woe which might o erwhelm our land. No more I 11 importune you. ALANA. Ah, he comes ! (Enter GUEVARA and DE MOXICA.) Welcome, Guevara, welcome ! At thy sight My terrors vanish, and my fainting heart Finds firmness in thy eyes. GUEVARA. What fears my love ? Why throbs this tender heart ? Guevara s arm Is vowed to thy protection ; let its clasp Assure thy gentle breast, where vain alarms Now hold dominion. 248 THE NEW WORLD. ALAN A. Would that they were vain ! But no, Guevara. I can read our doom In the Alcalde s eyes. Alas, my sire, How little didst thou think, when thy strong arm Upheld thy much-loved child, and warlike bands Thronged round their mighty chief, that ever woe Would blight her youthful days ! No thought of foes From distant lands, more powerful than thyself, E er crossed thy dauntless breast. But thou art gone ; And mid those hills where once thy haughty eye Glanced proudly o er a tribe whose faithful hearts Throbbed high to do thy will, a helpless few, Enslaved, degraded, hide their hunted heads And die in woe, where once they lived in power. GUEVARA. Her words are daggers to my breast ! E en so Have Spanish hands made desolate the soil, And trampled on its free and happy sons, And deluged Haytien earth in Haytien blood. Would that the deep remorse which wrings my heart Might reach each Spaniard who has raised his arm Against this hapless race ! ALANA. I meant not to upbraid thee, but my thoughts With present sorrow contrast former bliss. Thou rt gone, my father, and thy helpless child Quails neath a Spaniard s glance. Woe for the land THE NEW WORLD. 249 Which slumbers thus beneath the oppressor s rod ! Whose men are women, and whose women call In vain upon those men to nerve their hearts, And die or conquer in their country s cause ! ANACAONA. Alana, cease, nor rend thy mother s heart With vain complaints ! Thy words renew my woes. Past horrors rise again before my eyes. ALANA. Forgive me, mother ! Let thy child s embrace Banish thy anguish ! GUEVARA. I, alas, have helped To widow such a mother ! I have helped To render such a daughter fatherless ! [Aside. [Exit ANACAONA. ALANA (to GUEVARA). Your brow is clouded, too. My rebel tongue Hath ill expressed the feelings of my heart, Since it offends the friends whom most I love. GUEVARA. No, gentle one ; each word of thine to me Is far more dear than I can tell. T is I Whom ruthless fate condemns to grieve and pain The maid for whom I d die. Alana, he Who sees with envy that I am beloved Condemns me to depart from thy sweet presence. 32 250 THE NEW WORLD. ALANA. Guevara, leave me not ! In pity, stay ! If your deep vows of love were e er sincere, Remain ! Protect the hapless Haytien maid, Whose love and faith to thee have caused Roldan To threaten direst vengeance on her head ! GUEVARA. And did he threaten thee ? Now, by the saints, But little hinders that I cast aside That honor which he knows not, and despatch The shameless ruffian with my dagger s point ! And did this chance since last we met, my love ? ALANA. Scarce an hour since. He vowed, whoever I loved, I should wed none but him ; vowed with fierce oaths And threats against thy life. GUEVARA. What saidst thou then ? ALANA. What could I say ? I wept, which but the more Enraged his savage heart, because my tears Bore witness to my love. GUEVARA. Ah, luckless knight ! What evil star presided at my birth, That thus my fondest love must prove a curse ? Alana, I must leave thee, for Roldan Rules here with iron sway ; I have no power. THE NEW WORLD. 251 ALANA. Forsake me not, Guevara ! By thy side I know no fear ; but when thou art away, And the Alcalde, with his sullen brow And evil-boding eye, stands near, my heart, Always full weak, quails neath his threatening glance. Alas, if you desert me, it may chance That, overawed, I yield me to despair, And give my hand to him whom most I hate ! GUEVARA. Alana, name not such a sacrifice ! ALANA. Remain, and save me from it ! GUEVARA. I can die In your defence, but I can do no more ! O for the feudal band, whose serried spears So oft have been my pride and my defence ! In far Castile they linger, while their lord Must chafe and fret beneath a churl s command ! DE MOXICA. Time flies, Guevara ! In another hour You 11 scarce be safe within Xaragua. ALANA. Say, Is his life in danger ? DE MOXICA. They who cross 252 THE NEW WORLD. The Alcalde s path are seldom safe. ALANA. Then go ! O, haste away, while I remain, and die ! GUEVARA. Despair not, dearest one ; we 11 meet again ! Ere yonder moon fulfils her destined course, Before again her silver crescent gleams Above these groves, Guevara will be here, To live or die for you, as fate decrees. Loved one, farewell ! ALANA. Ah, stay, Guevara, stay ! GUEVARA. What would my love ? ALANA. Nothing ; but yet I fear This parting is our last. GUEVARA. Be firm, fair maid, Nor heed the Alcalde s threats ! She hears me not ! Quite overwhelmed with grief ! I will not go And leave this gentle maid in such despair ! Come one, come all the minions of Roldan, I will defy them all ere I 11 desert This unprotected one ! Hear me, my love ! Thy tears have conquered ; here I will remain While my life lasts ! THE NEW WORLD. 253 DE MOXICA. Guevara ! are you mad ? Hear me, Alana ! If you love this knight, Or if you value your own life, control This passionate grief, and bid him not delay. Fear not Roldan ; for, by my knightly faith, You shall not be compelled to be his wife. But if to-morrow see my kinsman here I cannot answer for his life. ALANA. Ah, fly, Nor heed my weakness ! fly, ere yet Roldan Pours his fell vengeance on thy head ! DE MOXICA. Ere this, But for De Escobar, thy blood had paid The forfeit of thy rashness. ALANA. Some one comes ! It is Roldan ! Ah, save me ! (Enter DE ESCOBAR.) DE MOXICA. Escobar ! What would you here ? DE ESCOBAR. Moxica, naught with you. My errand s with Guevara. GUEVARA. Well, Seuor, 254 THE NEW WORLD. What would you with Guevara ? UE ESCOBAR. To repeat, As a command, rny former friendly warning. T is time you turned your back upon Xaragua. GUEVARA. I am aware, sir, of your master s will ; It needs not repetition ; 1 Ve no choice, And must submit. DIS ESCOBAR. My master, as you term him, Like other men, uses the power he has As best may suit his humor. Some might find A thousand whims, which to their eyes would seem Far worthier of pursuit than is Roldan s. His whim is to possess this Indian maid. My errand s not to vindicate his will, Nor would I quarrel with you, though T. in bound To enforce his orders. Trust me, Don Hernando, That this decree, sprung from Roldan s caprice, Is one most fitted for thy real welfare. Haste to thy native Spain ; assume the rank To which thy birth and talents give thee claim. Thou art a noble youth, and pity t is That thou shouldst linger on these Western shores, To lose thy life in an ignoble strife. GUEVARA. De Escobar, I thank you ! Your advice THE NEW WORLD. 355 Is such as I should follow, but my will And duty are at variance. Oft you ve seen A bark, whose rowers faintly ply the oar Against the rushing current ; thus with me ; Duty, like some o erwearied oarsman, pulls In vain towards the proper haven, while The current, inclination, bears me on Towards shoals and quicksands. Yet I must submit To your commands, but pray of you the grace To linger half an hour. DE ESCOBAR. I will await That time within the vale where first we met. An escort there attends. Meanwhile, adieu. GUEVARA. Adieu, Senor ; thanks for your favor. (ExitDE ESCOBAR.) Now There but remains to say the last farewell To thee, fair maid, whose image is enshrined Deep in my heart ; thou It have no rival there, Though we should never meet again. Weep not, Or you 11 unman me quite. Loved one, be firm ! I will return ; perhaps to overthrow Thy tyrant s power. Good night, my love, good night ! [Exeunt GUEVARA and DE MOXICA. ALANA. Evil s our parting ; evil was the hour 256 THE NEW WORLD. When first we met and loved, but to be severed ! Each night I 11 sit and watch yon silver moon, Which moves so brightly, free from mortal cares, And as she slowly wanes I will rejoice That so much nearer is my love s return ; For when with slender horns she faintly beams Anew along the sky, he will be here ; Preserve me, gentle Hope, until that hour ! Then, if he come not, welcome, welcome, Death, Rather than slavery. [Exit. SCENE V. The forest. Enter GUEVARA. GUEVARA. HERE first we met, and here we should have parted. ? T is strange this Western wood-nymph should have fixed The heart where love had ne er before the power To rivet his soft bonds ! But they re secured Beyond my power to loosen, and methinks I would not if I could ; they are too dear ! Yet what a sacrifice ! De Escobar Has struck the cnord which never yet refused To answer the least touch, ambition ! Ah, Can I remain to waste my youth, my life, Perchance, my hopes of high renown, For the faint hope of conquering Roldan THE NEW WORLD. 357 And winning young Alana ? Yes ! In vain Ambition holds her lures. I will be true To her who loves so fondly and so truly ; True to myself, for could I e er know peace Away from her ? I love this gentle maid As knights should ever love, with faith and ardor. Her must I win before again I view My native Spain ; then will I haste away, And show the Spanish court my Haytien gem, The dearer, that t was won with blood and toil. (Enter DE ESCOBAR, attended.) DE ESCOBAR. Guevara, you are punctual. Behold A trusty escort. These, with due respect, Will guide you to Cahay. And now farewell. All joy attend you ! May you ne er behold Xaragua s vales again ! That wish should be The wish of all who deem Guevara s honor Of higher import than Guevara s pleasure. GUEVARA. Farewell, De Escobar ! I 11 think of thee As one well worthy of the spurs he wears. [Exeunt severally. t 33 258 THE NEW WORLD. ACT IV. SCENE I. Before ANACAONA S cottage. ROLDAN, AN AC AON A, and BEHECHIO. EOLDAN. Too long I ve humbly sued. The maid must know That he who begs the grace he can command Will list to no refusal. BEHECHIO. Spaniard, hear me ! I ve oft submitted to your tyranny Because my people s lives were dearer to me Than my own power ; but this last insolence I will oppose while I have life. Our maids May mate with Spaniards when it is their will ; But while Xaragua s tribes call me their chief, No daughter of Xaragua shall be forced To wed a SpanisrHnaster. ROLDAN. Say st thou so ? And dost thou think to oppose thy will to mine ? The maid shall be my wife. THE NEW WORLD. 259 BEHECHIO. Her will alone Shall govern her. ROLDAN. My will shall govern her, And you ANACAONA. O, cease this discord ! What avails it ? Roldan, content you. You shall urge your suit To her who must decide it. Hapless child ! If from her Carib sire she had received The Carib spirit, she were far more fit To wrestle with her fate ! (Approaching the cottage.) Alana, haste, Come forth ! ALANA (coming from the cottage). What would you, mother ? Ah ! [She perceives ROLDAN, and turns to retire. ANACAONA. Remain. [Exeunt ANACAONA and BEHECHIO. ROLDAN. Alana, shun me not ; what do you fear ? If those who love you are receiver! thus coldly, How would you look upon your enemies ? This little hand declares its mistress heart, And trembles in my grasp as if t were pressed By venomed snake. Alana, is this well ? 260 THE NEW WORLD Why should you hate me thus ? ALANA. I bear no hate To aught on earth, except my own existence. ROLDAN. Hate aught on earth except its brightest gem ! Hate sun, and moon, and stars, and hide their rays Neath thy displeasure, but shine on thyself, The brightest star that e er shed smiling hope Upon a wanderer s heart, and beaconed him To shelter and to joy ! ALANA. Alas ! alas ! A star hid neath dark clouds, whence jarring storms, Thunder and lightning fierce, burst forth. ROLDAN. Fair maid, Complain not of those storms, since thou hast power To shed thy smiles, and, like the noonday sun, Dispel all gloomy vapors from the air. ALANA. I once could smile. Those careless hours are fled. ROLDAN. Smile upon me, Arana, and that smile Shall be to us the sign of peaceful union Between thy race and mine. ALANA. Would that a smile THENEWWORLD. 261 Were the sole pledge required ! ROLDAN. Now aid me, saints ! For a blunt soldier s brain lacks the swift wit To match a woman s humors. (Aside.) No, Alana, Thy wish is vain. More than a smile s required. This is the bond which shall unite our people. [Takes her hand; she withdraws it. Is this thy answer ? O for some strong spell To chain the rising dragon in my breast ! [Aside. Alana, since we met thou know st I ve stooped To win thy favor as I would not stoop Even to my king, though such humiliation Would gain a crown. If I ve seemed harsh at times, The fear to lose thee moved me to such madness. And though of late thou hast repulsed my wooing, It was not so when first I knelt, when first I told the tale which to a woman s ear Is ne er ungrateful. ALANA. True, all true, Roldan ; But I was weak and foolish ; then my heart Knew naught of love, and I was wrong, most wrong. O, be thy wrath appeased by this abasement ! [Kneeling. Forgive me, and forget me ! ROLDAN. Maiden, rise ! Subdue these childish tremors, and be firm. 262 THE NEW WORLD. I will address thy reason, not thy heart. Listen, Alana, and weigh well my words ; For on thy answer hangs the fate of him Who won the love which once I fondly hoped Would rest on me ; and on thy answer hangs, Perchance, thy people s fate. Dost understand ? ALANA. Too well ! ^ ROLDAN. Since Don Hernando now is banished, No longer will his presence feed the flame Which his false flattery raised within thy breast. ALANA. Roldan, of thine own cause say what thou wilt, But think not to asperse my absent friend. ROLDAN. Pique but a woman s vanity, and straight She 11 speak, though she before were spellbound. [Aside. He s gone, nor will return ; ere this the ship Which has received him spreads her snowy sails To catch the Western breeze, and ploughs the wave Towards his native land. ALANA. It is not so ! Revoke thy words, Roldan, in charity ! Say that thou hast deceived me, that Guevara Is still upon the island, and I 11 be Your slave ! THE NEW WORLD. 263 ROLDAN. What frenzy seizes you ? Is t strange That this gallant, finding no longer hope To mar my wishes, has at length obeyed The viceroy s orders, and embarked for Spain ? ALANA. Thy words have wellnigh killed me ! Let thy sword Complete the sacrifice ! If this be so, Where shall I look for faith ? I 11 not believe it ! He is the soul of truth ! T is some foul craft Of thine, Roldan, to crush still more my heart, And mould it to thy will. But thou shalt fail ! ROLDAN. Hear me, Alana, ALANA. Off ! I will not hear thee ! ROLDAN. By Heaven, thou shalt both hear and answer me In milder mood than this ! A soldier s patience Is ever brief, and mine is of the briefest. Tax not my mood too far, for thy weak hand Has not the skill to rein it. ALANA. T is a task I would not seek. ROLDAN. Hear me ! Thou seest thy race, Where er they Ve sought to oppose the Spanish arms, 264 THE NEW WORLD. Fall victims to their rashness, and their homes Become the conqueror s prize. Xaragua s plains Have yet escaped, for peace still reigns between The Spaniards and thy tribe ; but this may vanish. Perchance the embers now exist of discord, And who can say how soon a blast may rise To fan them into fury ? Know st thou not That ofttimes when the air is calm, the sun Without a cloud, and nature all at peace, Bursts forth the dread Urican, whose fell breath Brings universal desolation ? Know Man s passions are Uricans, deadlier far Than those the warring elements produce. They have swept o er this island, but have left One little spot of peace, this blooming province. Yet here they may burst forth, and strip these vales Of all their charms. Wouldst thou avert the doom ? ALANA. At cost of life. ROLDAN. I would that thou shouldst live, Not die for it. Behechio has resolved He 11 not bestow thee on me, save thy will Accompanies thy hand. ALANA. Ah ! said he so ? Then there is help. O, I was most unjust To think that he would see me sacrificed ! THENEWWORLD. 265 ROLDAN. Each word she utters more inflames my wrath ! [Aside. If thou art wise, be silent, and attend. Behechio has threatened this, and I Have sworn thou shalt be mine. Canst thou divine How this will end ? ALAN A. Would I could answer, No ! ROLDAN. Behechio resists me ; thy weak race Stand forth to oppose the Spaniards, to oppose Their unarmed bodies to the sword and spear Of fatal steel ; while from the impervious mail Their arrows fall innoxious. Say, Alana, How must this end ? ALANA. O man of violence, Destruction hangs upon thy lips, and death And desolation seem but sport to thee ! Where must this end, you ask ? Not where you wish. Thou know st not, Spaniard, where it shall begin ; For when thy hand is raised against my tribe, I will commence the work, and in my breast Plant the first steel that s bared, ere clasp thy hand Red with my people s blood. ROLDAN. And will thy death Avert thy people s fate ? No ! by the saints, 34 266 THENEWWORLD. If thou shouldst dare the deed thou threats! me with, I will do one more terrible ! Thine eyes Should rest in dying on thy noble mother, And hundreds of thy friends in chains around her, Writhing in tortures such as fiends invent To aid man s vengeance. But why do I threat ? Life is too dear to one so young and fair, To be resigned so rashly. Thou hast heard The horrors of resistance ; listen now To the reverse. Consent to be my bride. My rank and power will shield thy native vales From the oppression which now desolates The rest of Hayti ; thou, fair maid, wilt be The pledge of peace and faith. This little hand Shall form a chain of concord, stronger far Than all the gold which Hayti s isle can boast, Though it were forged in links which might withstand A giant s grasp. I know thou lov st me not ; I know the heart is gone whose wealth I sought ; Yet doubt I not in time it would return To its liege lord. Say, when thy homes are burned, Thy friends, or dead or dying, lie around, What then will it avail thee that this woe Springs from thy love to one, who, far away, Knows not the desolation he has caused ? ALANA. Roldan, you urge me cruelly. Alas ! I know your power ; I know my people s weakness. But press not my decision ; give me proof THE NEW WORLD. 267 Of the devotion you so oft profess. The summer moon is in her glory now ; Wait till she vanishes, and the next moon Uprears her slender horns. Be generous. Leave me in peace till then. Grant me this boon, And I will think it proves thy love as deep As oft thou st sworn. ROLDAN. Alana, be it so. Weigh well my words, nor deem them empty threats ; For know, my head has never planned the deed My hand was slow to execute. Farewell ! [Exit ROLDAN. ALANA. I do believe thee. Not the incarnate fiend, Whose doings oft I ve heard thy followers tell, And tremble as they told, had less remorse To do the evil deeds in which he joys, Than thou and thine to follow in his steps. (Reenter BEHECHIO and ANACAONA.) ANACAONA. Thy tyrant s gone. ALANA. He has. ANACAONA. Thy tears attest The harshness of his words. BEHECHIO. Poor, trembling maid, 268 THE NEW WORLD. Would I could save thee from the woes that hang O er our devoted race ! ALANA. I m doomed to be The foremost victim. ANACAONA. Say not so, my child ! The Alcalde s wooing s harsh, yet by his threats He means but to affright thee. ALANA. O mother, you are strangely blind ! BEHECHIO. You re right, And you, Anacaona, wrong. Alas ! Will naught remove the film that from your eyes Shrouds every danger ? Caonabo s death You can excuse, can see your daughter wronged, And vainly judge his enemies and hers By your own purity of heart. T is woe That thy own virtues must be made the snares To entrap thee ! Yes, Alana, much I doubt If aught but death can save thee from Roldan, And should rejoice if thou couldst school thy heart To hear his wooing patiently. ALANA. I ve gained Some short delay, and promised, when the time He s granted at my suit shall have expired, To answer, ay or no, his urgent suit. THE NEW WORLD. 269 BEHECHIO. And if you answer, No ? ALANA. He threats with fire And swift-avenging sword to desolate The province. BEHECHIO. Doubt not he 11 perform his threat. ANACAONA. Why shouldst thou think so ? He has proved our friend. But thou, Behechio, art as suspicious As I am rash ; we should exchange our natures ; The first should be the woman s fault ; the last Is far too oft the man s. My gentle one, Thy sorrows are my own ! Thy every tear Wrings my fond heart ! Would that I had the power To banish thy distress, and give thee joy ! BEHECHIO. Poor fated dove ! Thou must yield to the blast Of power which howls around, and sweeps away Our rights, our wealth, our homes, our hearts best treasures, As they were autumn leaves ! Yes, thou must yield, And wed Roldan, or wed with misery ! ALANA. What greater misery than to be his wife ? BEHECHIO. Would it be less to see his threats fulfilled ? 270 THE NEW WORLD. ALAN A. Yet there s one hope ! Guevara will return ! BEHECHIO. Call st thou that hope, to see thy lover fall A victim to the Alcalde s rage ? T were best For him and you he never should return. Subdue these tears ; my words are meant in kindness. Thou ne er shouldst need to weep had I the power To master these intruders. List my counsel ; T is given in love and truth ; forget Guevara ALANA. Forget him ! Never ! Yet, my dearest friend, Think me not wilful. Though Guevara s love Is my sole happiness, could I but find Some charm which from my memory could erase His cherished image, gladly would I seize Its aid. But no ! The blasts of time, of care, Of withering sorrow, may pass o er my heart, Yet leave in its first power my youthful love ! BEHECHIO. Ah, thou art young, and know not how the touch Of time, of care, and sorrow can remove Emotions which to youth seem everlasting ! This time alone can teach. But thou hast seen What turmoil here Guevara s short sojourn Produced ; reflect what misery must ensue From his return. Seek not to lure him back. Roldan has wealth and power : his haughty heart THE NEW WORLD. 271 Thy charms have conquered, and thy voice can rule. Is it not triumph to behold this man. Before whom others tremble, kneel to thee, And own thy word a law ? Resume that power. One smile, one word of kindness, would subdue His tiger mood. ALANA. Sooner I d die than wed him ! ANACAONA. T is cruelty to urge it ! No, my child ; Fear not thou wilt be sacrificed ; some aid Will yet arrive. So beautiful, so young, Who could be steeled against thy misery ? BEHECHIO. It is her youth and beauty which are doomed To cause that misery. But words are vain. The storm which must overwhelm us darkly lowers Above our heads. Too truly did my heart Forewarn me that Guevara would become The hastener of our doom, and its still voice Is fatally attested ! If his steps Again disturb our vales, the blood of those Who through his fatal passion fall must rest Upon his guilty head ; and may my curse Cleave to his soul ALANA. Hold ! Curse him not ! My love Should shield Guevara from your wrath ! 272 THE NEW WORLD. BEHECHIO. Fond maid, Thy woman s heart, which deems that all must yield To its weak passion, cannot waste a thought Upon the woes of others. Go ! enjoy Thy dream of love ! Recall the Spanish youth, And let his kiss banish the short-lived tears My words call forth, while bleeding round thee lie The hapless victims of thy selfish passion, Whose dying eyes shall curse thee when their lips Have lost the power of utterance ! [Exit BEHECHIO. ANACAONA. Woe is me ! Where er I turn, dissension dogs my steps ! Wealth, power, and rank, and joy were lost to me When false tongues lured my husband to his doom, And now my only hope of happiness, My loved Alana, droops. Ah, woe is me ! [Exit, leading ALAN A. SCENE II. The forest near ANACAONA S cottage. Enter GUEVARA. GUEVARA. AND now methinks I m at the height of madness ! The man, who loses neath a foaming torrent A gem of price, and straightway seeks the wave, THE NEW WORLD. 273 And vainly plunges to regain his treasure, Is not more wild than I. I am resolved Upon a desperate enterprise ; my life Each moment is at stake, and I must hold Both head and hand alert in its defence. Not the loud thunder in its sternest peal, Not the fierce lightning rushing to destroy, Are more intent upon the work of death, Or more relentless, than Roldan, if once His will or interest spur him on. I come To win or die. Not knightlike may I stand And face my foe, but, like the treacherous thief, Am fain to gain by stratagem my treasure. Ah, yonder stands the bower where dwells my love ! Perchance in sleep Guevara is forgot ; Perchance she wakes and weeps. I 11 summon her ; A storm approaches, and no other roof Must give me shelter. (ALAN A appears from the cottage.} But she comes, uncalled. I 11 play the eavesdropper, and, standing near, Learn if she think of me. [Conceals himself. ALANA (coming forward). I cannot sleep, For cruel dreams make slumber horrible. Wild clouds whirl o er the moon, to whose decline I look for joy. Guevara, dost thou too Gaze with impatience on the slow career 35 274 THE NEW WORLD. Of yon pale orb ? Dost thou too count the hours Which must elapse before another moon Shall rise in the blue heavens, and guide thee back To sad Alana ? GUEVARA (discovering himself). Let this fond embrace Solve all thy doubts, and banish all thy sadness. ALANA. Guevara ! Here ! O, this is happiness ! GUEVARA. Short-lived, I fear ; but it is happiness. There s care upon thy brow. ALANA. Nay, heed it not. Say, how in safety have you reached me, how Evaded the Alcalde s vigilance ? GUEVARA, Thy heart should tell thee how imperious Love Fetters Time s wings. O, wearily the hours Have passed since last we met, and my fond heart And proud as fond no longer could submit To banishment ! And for my safety, know That Love inspires his votaries with wiles No other power could teach. ALANA. How dost thou hope To escape the Alcalde s eye ? GUEVARA. Thou, dearest maid, THE NEW WORLD. 275 Shalt aid to save thyself and me. ALANA. Say, how ? What can I do ? Speak. GUEVARA. First, thy mother s love Must screen me from my foe ; and, next, thy care Must seek my trusty kinsman, De Moxica. ALANA. I 11 fly, Guevara, to perform thy will, For fear some unseen chance should wreck my hopes, Ere they are fairly launched upon this sea Of doubt and danger. Enter thou the cot. [Exeunt severally. SCENE III. Another part of the forest. A violent storm ; thunder and lightning. Enter a number of Spaniards. * FIRST SPANIARD. THE samts protect us ! O, that I were safe In Andalusia s vales ! Not all the gold That e er on Hayti s island has been found Should tempt me back to face these hurricanes. SECOND SPANIARD. Ah, Madre de Dios ! another flash ! 276 THE NEW WORLD. I m almost blinded ! Holy Mother, hear ! Save me this night, and to thy shrine I vow Six waxen torches ! Virgin, save thy child ! FIRST SPANIARD. And I on Saint lago s shrine will place An ounce of gold ! Sancte lago, ora, Ora pro nobis ! THIRD SPANIARD. Think st thou this wild storm Can make the Alcalde tremble ? FIRST SPANIARD. He has cause, As well as we who ve so long done his bidding. If I can scape the dangers of this night, I ll serve some leader of more tender conscience. SECOND SPANIARD. I ask no better leader than Roldan ; But since he has submitted to Columbus, And gained his office and his lands, I think He plays the judge upon his ancient comrades, Who fought for him when he was landless. Ah, Another flash ! another stunning peal ! Sure there s some judgment in this hurricane ! Hark ye, rny friends, you know the young Guevara ? FIRST SPANIARD. Ay, we do so ; of noble blood is he As any in Castile, and ever bore him Knightlike to high and low. But what of him ? THE NEW WORLD. 377 SECOND SPANIARD. You know that jealousy moved the Alcalde To banish him, and some have dared to whisper That there was danger of foul play. Think you He s been despatched, and Heaven has sent this turmoil To awe the guilty ? FIRST SPANIARD. Nay, comrade, Heaven forbid ! THIRD SPANIARD. Perchance his wrathful spirit rides the blast ! Ave Maria ! guard thy votary ! SECOND SPANIARD. Come, come, my friends ; we shall be needed elsewhere. Let s haste for shelter to the Alcalde s quarters. The hurricane, I trust, has spared that, though It has o erthrown our frailer dwellings. Come ! [Exeunt Spaniards. (Enter BEHECHIO, followed by Indians.) BEHECHIO. Rage on, ye winds, and ye, terrific fires, Seek our oppressors hearts ! Sure Heaven in wrath Hath moved earth, air, and water to avenge The white man s crimes. Not in the memory Of Hayti s oldest sons hath such wild war Ere raged upon our island. Hated race ! All things combine to desolate our peace While they remain. O, list, ye raging blasts ! Bear off upon your wings of might each trace 278 THENEWWORLD. Of Spanish power, and I will bless your rage, And glory in my devastated vales, For hope and freedom will be ours again ! [Exeunt. (Enter GUEVARA.) GUEVARA. With joy I marked each tint of daylight fade ; With joy I marked the twilight usher in The friendly night. But such a night ! Methinks The fiends of hell shriek in the rushing blast, And ride upon the lightning. Ah, a crash ! A shriek ! Alana s voice ! (ALANA rushes across.) Stay thee, rny love ; What terror wings thy steps ? ALANA. Is t thou, Guevara ? I knew thee not, for haste and deadly fear Bewildered me. GUEVARA. Forgive my ignorance And blind impatience, which exposed thee thus To storms and dangers. ALANA. See ! I am unharmed. But as I hurried homeward, a tall tree, Rent by the storm, shivered, and groaned, and fell Just as I bounded past it. I have done Thy errand safely. All is well prepared, Thy kinsman bids me say. Near to my home, THE NEW WORLD. 279 And unsuspected by our foes, exists A wondrous cave : there will I hide thee ; there At night conduct thy kinsman and his friends. [ Thunder and lightning. GUEVARA. The heavens seem rent asunder ! ALANA. Save, O, save me ! GUEVARA. My gentle one, could love s protecting arms Ward off the storms of life, here wert thou safe. But calm these fears, my love ; a forest maid Should bear a stouter heart. That frightful shock Has passed. Look up, and let us hie away. Thou hast been fleet enough when I pursued, My forest bird ! fly from the storm as fleetly. [Exeunt. 280 THE NEW WORLD. ACT V. SCENE I. In ROLDAN S dwelling. ROLDAN and DE ESCOBAR discovered. DE ESCOBAR. HATH your suit prospered since your rival went ? ROLDAN. In time she may endure me. I confess I much mistook this maid. She s far more bold Than her soft air bespeaks her. I supposed A few harsh words would bend her to my will, As bends the willow to the rushing blast, But she withstands my threats with threats as dire. DE ESCOBAR. You will have other work anon. ROLDAN. How so ? DE ESCOBAR. Your dealing with Guevara has aroused The wrath of many of your sometime friends, Whose birth, like his, is noble. They complain Of insult to Castilian blood, from one T H E N E W W R L D . 281 ROLDAN. Ne er mouth it, man ! I know what thou wouldst say, And value not these whims of birth. The first Who raised this barrier of nobility, To lord it o er his brethren, must have been Of race as low as they, and or by wealth Or valiant deeds achieved this boasted rank. T is ever to the founder of their race That nobles turn to boast their ancestry, And therefore those whom Fortune aids to rise Are, by their own confession, of more worth Than those who take her favors by descent. Think st thou I care how my proud followers May chafe against my will ? Ay, let them fret ! T is but the streamlet dashing gainst the rock. DE ESCOBAR. T is more. Your pardon, but I ve proved your friend. I tell you, sullen brows and swelling hearts Must not be urged too far, or rashly trusted. These knights are men of action, prompt to ire, Fierce to resent an insult to themselves Or to their privilege, and this they deem Outraged by De Guevara s banishment. ROLDAN. Dost thou expect me to recall Guevara, And show these cavaliers my penitence For following my own will instead of his ? 36 282 THE NEW WORLD. DE ESCOBAR. You must both watch and soothe these murmurers. ROLDAN. And stoop to sue their pardon for this sin ? DE ESCOBAR. You could stoop low enough when interest Required that you should win their aid ; and now A little courtesy may well be spared To those who ve served you bravely. (A soldier rushes in.) ROLDAN. How is this ? SOLDIER. Angels protect us ! T was his ghost ! ROLDAN. Whose ghost ? Speak, quick, or I 11 despatch thy quaking soul Forth from its earthly covering, that thou Mayst ne er fear ghost again ! What wouldst thou say ? SOLDIER. Seiior, the blast o erthrew my hut ; I fled, But, by the horrors of the storm confused, I knew not whither. Suddenly a flash Showed me beneath the trees a stately form With ghastly face ; t was Don Hernando s spectre ! ROLDAN. Thou gaping idiot, dost thou neglect A soldier s duty, let a stranger pass thee THE NEW WORLD. 283 Without a challenge, then with senseless clamor And tales of ghosts think to blind scrutiny ? Hence with thy fears ! Yet stay, where saw st thou this ? SOLDIER. Between this and the princess dwelling. ROLDAN. So! It moved that way ? SOLDIER. My lord, I saw it sink Into the earth. ROLDAN. Thou rt certain of the spot ? SOLDIER. g I knew not where I was, until the lightning Disclosed the cottage through the trees. ROLDAN. Keep safe This wondrous vision. Breathe it not again, Or, by my life, thy tongue shall pay the forfeit ! I would not have my trustier followers Infected by thy fears. Go. Wait without. [Exit soldier. Guevara has returned ! Yon trembling fool Has seen him. Why he prates thus of a spectre I wonder much. Would it were so indeed ! This needs attention. Sank into the earth ? I Ve heard some whisper of a cavern, filled With treasures of the tribe, nor heeded it. 284 THE NEW WORLD. But this new treasure must be looked to. We Must learn what hopes he has. Don Adrian Will know his covert. Cautiously, my friend. Find if my soldiers have been tampered with. At night yon fool shall guide us to the place Of his encounter. We must find this cave. Lose not an hour. You test these malecontents. I 11 to Anacaona s cottage, there To seek this ghost that haunts my timid bride. [Exeunt, SCENE II. Before ANACAONA S dwelling. Enter ALANA. from the cottage. ALANA. THE storm has long since passed, yet still I tremble As when its fury raged. Guevara says A forest girl should never know such fears ; But Spaniard and Xaraguan last night Trembled alike, nor blushed to own their terrors. (Enter ROLDAN.) ROLDAN. Fair maid, methinks you would supplant the sun, So bright your eyes are beaming, while his rays Still sleep behind a night of clouds. ALANA. The storm THE NEW WORLD. 285 Struck horror to my heart. I could not rest. Even when its fury ceased. ROLDAN. Would thou couldst know The hurricane of love which in my breast You doom to rage with unabated fury ! ALANA. Must I remind you of your promise ? ROLDAN. No. I have not yet transgressed it. When I said I would not urge your answer, I reserved A lover s privilege to plead my cause And sue for favor. Have you ever thought On our last meeting ? ALANA. Can you doubt it ? ROLDAN. Ay; T was possible that some more welcome therne Engrossed all place within your breast. ALANA. Ah, me ! Can he suspect ? There s meaning in his eye. I must appear unmoved. (Aside.) Did but my will Hold even course with duty, I had thought More deeply on that meeting ; as it is, What could efface it from my memory ? 286 THE NEW WORLD. ROLDAN. She shrinks beneath my glance. (Aside.) And I may hope ? ALANA. Why shouldst thou seek my love, when maids as fair Each moment meet thy view, who, proud as fair, Would glory in thy choice. ROLDAN. Ah, stubborn girl ! You know your power, know that my faithful heart Is yours alone ; so scruple not to jest Of those who cannot rival your young charms. ALANA. What shall I say ? The time is opportune To affect submission, and thus turn aside Suspicion, if he harbour it. Alas, T will be a bitter task ! (Aside.) Methinks, Roldan, That flattery must be dear to Spanish dames, Since you, who call yourself a plain, blunt warrior, Invoke its aid so oft. A Haytien girl, Used to sincerity, may be forgiven For doubting, ROLDAN, Why, I Ve wooed thee with soft words And with harsh threats. What will subdue thy heart ? Speak, and I pledge my soul to win the spell ! ALANA. In truth, I could be grateful if your love THENEWWORLD. 287 Were more like reason, nor so wildly varied ; First seeking through my vanity to win, And next to crush me by ungoverned fury. ROLDAN. And if I rule my conduct by your will ALANA. Nay, now your question overleaps your promise. The moon has not yet waned. ROLDAN. Grant me one kiss, A pledge of hope and sweet forgiveness ! (She shrinks, and turns away.) Traitress ! Think st thou I cannot pierce the shallow wiles By which thou seek st to blind me ? Tremble, girl ! I know Guevara has returned ; I know Thy mother shelters him. He has abused My former mercy, and his doom is sealed By his and thy own folly. (ALANA kneels to him.) Off, I say, Nor hope I will relent ! ALANA. Mercy, Roldan ! O, spare him ! Spare Guevara ! Wreak thy rage Upon my head ! ROLDAN. On thee ? No, thou shalt live To glut my vengeance, live to curse thy life ! 288 THENEWWORLD. ALANA. It is already cursed, and I am cursed ! O, plant thy dagger in my heart, and take My blessing ! ROLDAN. Thou shalt live to bless my sight With agonies that martyrs never knew. Thy lover s corse shall blacken in thy view, And thou shalt gaze upon him till thine eyes Stiffen with horror. ALANA. O, be merciful ! Let but Guevara live, and any doom Thou canst name for myself I will endure. ROLDAN. When you can pledge yourself to be my wife ALANA. O, no, no, no ! So great a sacrifice, Can I submit ? O, whither shall I fly ? Kinsmen and friends, where are ye ? O Guevara ! ROLDAN. Alana, calm this frenzy. If to save Guevara be your choice, swear to obey My wishes. You are powerless. Think well. Another hour shall see this dagger s point Drenched in Guevara s blood. You tremble : swear ! Do you still hesitate ? Now, by the saints, If I m not quick obeyed, thy rebel blood THE NEW WORLD. 289 Shall flow before Guevara s ! I 11 not brook Longer to be a prey to woman s caprice. One stroke shall set me free. [She faints. So, my unruly tongue s o erleaped the mark, And, stead of forcing her into compliance, Has driven her senses from her. Sure my fate Decrees this stubborn girl to be my curse ! [Bears ALANA into the cottage. SCENE III. The cavern. GUEVARA discovered, as just awakened from slumber. GUEVARA. HERE, like a beast of prey within his lair, I couch, and sleep, and wait the friendly darkness, Which brings me freedom and the breath of heaven. I know not whether noon gleams in the sky, Or night, with drooping lid, hangs o er the earth ; For, through my fevered dreams, my unchained thoughts In minutes have performed the deeds of hours. At last a sound invades my tomb ; a rustling As of a young bird s wing among the boughs. (Enter ALANA.) T is night, t is night ; for, lo ! my evening star Gleams through the shades, and makes this sepulchre Her throne. O my beloved, I may look Into thine eyes pure light But how is this ? 37 290 THE NEW WORLD. No smile upon thy lip ? thy cheek s warm glow Quite faded ? Speak ! I m tortured by such fears ALAN A. We are betrayed ! GUEVARA. Betrayed ? How ? When ? By whom ? ALANA. I know but this ; some dire, some fatal chance Hath to Roldan disclosed thy bold return. What demon hath he bought to track thy steps ? GUEVAKA. This is some dream, some frenzy of thy fear. ALANA. Too true, too fearful. GUEVARA. Why am I still safe ? ALANA. Thank Heaven that even his keen, ferocious eye Hath never reached this spot ! Here, on thy breast, This very hour, let me expire, ere meet Again his hated glance ! O my own love, Such numbing terrors steal o er my weak heart, And chill my blood, I scarce can wish to live ! GUEVARA. If my retreat is unsuspected, all May yet be hoped. Shake off this withering dread ; Think but of vengeance, liberty, and love. ALANA. O love and liberty ! sweet hopes, sweet sounds, THE NEW WORLD. 291 That, mid the sunshine of my heart, breathed forth All harmonies of life, all melodies Of nature s voices, as in day s pure light The birds pour forth their joyous carollings, And thousand insects murmur their delights ; But as the sun sinks, sink those pleasant notes ; And as despair s dark night falls on my breast, That music of my soul for ever dies ! GUEVARA. My woodland flower, so tender and so fair, Why must these blasts sweep o er thy lovely head ? Yet rouse thee, dear ; t is treason to thy knight To shrink and tremble when his arm enfolds thee. Be firm awhile. How didst thou learn this danger ? ALANA. From his own lips, who makes thy presence danger ; Who swore thy death, and pointed gainst my breast His gleaming steel, to force me to receive His loathsome love. GUEVARA. For vengeance, Heaven ! Speak on ! ALANA. A welcome darkness, like the shades of death, Hid all things from my sight and sense. I woke Within my mother s arms. The fiend had fled. Approaching night obscured the earth and sky. With trembling step, yet cautious eye, I sped To warn thee, and to weep within thine arms. 292 THE NEW WORLD. GUEVARA. My rage is a devouring flame, that preys Upon myself. When shall I give it vent Upon this ravening wolf ? Alana, speak Again my kinsman s message. Said he not All was prepared ? ALANA. All, all ! GUEVARA. This night The tyrant dies ! Yet what is death ? T is riot Revenge. ALANA. T is all I ask, t is safety. GUEVARA. True. But who guides De Moxica to this spot ? ALANA. My mother ; but a deeper darkness yet Must make the attempt secure. Why didst thou rush Upon such perils ? GUEVARA. For thy love, sweet maid, Which makes the peril pastime. Thou, for mine, Must rule thy fears and steel thy throbbing breast, For if we win, the victory is thine ; And if we fail, thou It need to banish all The woman from thy heart, or die of woe. THE NEW WORLD. 293 ALANA. Ay, I behold thee now glorying in youth, In strength and beauty, yet a few short hours May banish the bright vision, t is too bright To bless my fond eyes long ! Yes, thou mayst fail. What then am I ? The Alcalde s hopeless slave, His wife ! Forbid it, Heaven ! Yet what escape ? GUEVARA. Save through the avenues of death there J s none. Alana, my own love, thou hast believed My vows of fond affection, and thy heart Repays them all, but thou canst never know, If I should fall, the frenzy of my passion, Know all that proves its deathless truth : high hopes Of honor, rank, and fame, thy beaming glance Hath far outshone, and now I stake my life, And ask but one return, thy promise, love, Never to wed my enemy. ALANA. Think st thou I am so little mindful of my faith ? Dost thou suspect my fears would so betray me ? Or, trusting in my love, canst thou believe I d live to wed another ? GUEVARA. Could I rest Within my bloody grave if thou wert his ? No ! earth should gape and give me forth again ; 294 THE NEW WORLD. A hideous spectre would I stand before thee, And claim ray bride. Then swear, my own Alana, To be my own in death, nor crown the triumph Of yon barbarian. (Holds a cross before her .) See! this holy sign Of love and truth, I taught thee to adore. Let thy first vow on it be for my sake, Who gave thine eyes its light. Alana, kneel, And let thy words call the Great Power to witness Thy oath of faith. ALANA. Thy will is mine. I swear ! GUEVARA. Be blessed, my gentle one, for thy sweet love, Unsoiled by aught of this world s selfishness. I hear a stealthy tread. My kinsman comes. One kiss ! Now hie thee from this scene of gloom ; Safe in thy cot await the rapturous hour When I shall clasp thee in the face of day, And tell of victory and happiness. (Enter ROLDAN.) ROLDAN. That happiness be mine. How is t, young sir, You come uncalled ? GUEVARA. It was my will, Roldan ! ROLDAN. Your will ! You take it boldly. Yet, Senor, THE NEW WORLD. 295 I have a warrant to pull down your pride. And thou, young traitress, dearly shalt thou rue Thine artful dealing. Nay, unclasp thine arms, Soft captors of the knight ; nor think thy breast Will shield him from my wrath. GUEVARA. Loose me, Alana ! EOLDAN. Nay, wait thy friends approach ! they are at hand, And well equipped. (REGUELME, DE MOXICA, and others enter, guarded.) GUEVARA. Thy life is gone, foul despot ! [They fight, GUEVARA falls. O life, and fame, and love ! a fevered dream ! Must I die unrevenged ? Ay, there s my grief ! Alana, draw thou near, that I may look My last on thee, and on the world I leave. Both seem more lovely to my waning sight, Than even my undimmed vision deemed them. [ALANA approaches GUEVARA. ROLDAN. Back ! Thou art my slave, won, as yon traitor wished, At the sword s point. Now kneel and sue for mercy ! ALANA. Alcalde, I defy thee ! In my breast The Carib spirit rises ! I am .strong 296 THE NEW WORLD. In resolution to escape thy power ! Despair discards my fears ! Guevara, see ! I shrink not from my oath ! Now, if thou lov st me, Death shall not sever us ! Thy dagger ! quick ! GUEVARA. To part from thee were death ; to die with thee Is life. No more my spirit would delay, But longs with thine to wing her upward flight, Freed from the woes of earth. Dost thou not tremhle ? ALANA. No ! There is but one tie. Haste, haste, my love ! Strike, ere that monster dares again approach ! GUEVARA. Still let me gaze on thee ! My hand is weak To mar thy loveliness ! (Stabbing her.) Thus art thou saved ! (Hurls the dagger towards ROLDAN, who groans and staggers back.) Behold a noble s vengeance ! ALANA. See, Roldan, The slave escapes thee ! Even thy iron hand Cannot withdraw death s prey from his stern grasp. [ANACAONA rushes in with a shriek. That voice recalls me ! Mother, I depart Where Spaniards have no power ! Guevara, love, Let thy last glance rest on me ! Thou art gone ! I haste to follow thee ! [Dies. (Enter BEHECHIO.) THENEWWORLD. 397 BEHECHIO. Thou widowed wife, And childless mother, weep not ! Stay thy tears ; And for each drop let countless curses fall On the destroyers ! ANACAONA (to the Spaniards). Ay, ye have ta en all, All, all Anacaona s treasures ! Now Her life alone remains. Spaniards, take that, For ye have made it desolate ! THE END. 14 DAY USE URN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below on the date to which renewed Renewed books are subject to immediate recall LD21A-50m-9, 58 (6889slO)476I] .General Library University of California Berkeley A & B OKSEUERS &ialists in fee books K N.Y.32