The Ladies of Castile/Act I

Scene I
Near Toledo

(Don Juan De Padilla and Don Francis)

DON FRANCIS
 * The furious courser lists his dauntless head,
 * Fierce snaps the bit, and rolls his eye abroad,
 * Sees death and carnage mark th' empurpled field,
 * Neighs for his prey, and tramples o'er the dead.
 * The happy steed may bite the blood stain'd ground,
 * Untaught by reason, sympathy or love---
 * Unconscious of the pains---the ten fold pangs,
 * That check the warrior in his bold career.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * Methinks some languor hangs about thy steps,
 * Too like despair, though not alli'd to fear;
 * When virtue arms, and liberty's the prize,
 * No cloud should set on brave Don Francis' brow.
 * The love of glory, victory and same,
 * A noble sense of dignify and worth,
 * Is the best birth right of Castilia's sons:---
 * Inur'd to glory, and the feats of war,
 * Our fathers held their freedom from the gods.
 * A jealousy for freedom kept alive
 * Precludes the softer passions of the mind.

DON FRANCIS
 * Nurs'd in the fierce and hostile field of war,
 * I, from long ancestry, may boldly claim
 * That innate force and vigour of the mind
 * Which mocks the sense of danger or of death;
 * But yet Louisa wakes my soul to love.
 * De Haro's sister has ten thousand charms;
 * But ah!---the daughter of Velasco chills,
 * And horror opes the gates of wild despair,
 * As if the fates forbad a distant hope.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * Spurn these soft fetters---fly the fond disguise,
 * Ere it unnerves the vigour of thine arm---
 * Let freedom be the mistress of thy heart:---
 * She calls to arms, and bids us draw the sword:---
 * Come, clear thy brow, and whet the pointed steel,
 * To crush the foes of liberty and Spain.

DON FRANCIS
 * I would suspend, but ne'er exterminate
 * The noblest passion of the human soul;
 * That softens the ferocious brest of man,
 * And checks the ruder billows of the mind.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * Not like the lover, but the hero talk---
 * The sword must rescue, or the nation sink,
 * And self degraded, wear the badge of slaves.
 * We boast a cause of glory and renown;
 * We arm to purchase the sublimest gift
 * The mind of man is capable to taste.
 * 'Tis not a factious, or a sickle rout,
 * That calls their kindred out to private war,
 * With hearts envenom'd by a thirst of blood---
 * Nor burns ambition, rancour, or revenge,
 * As in the bosom of some lordly chief
 * Who throws his gauntlet at his sov'reign's foot,
 * And bids defiance in his wanton rage:---
 * 'Tis freedom's genius, nurs'd from age to age,
 * Matur'd in schools of liberty and law,
 * On virtue's page from fire to son convey'd,
 * E'er since the savage, fierce, barbarian hords,
 * Pour'd in, and chas'd beyond Narvasia's mount,
 * The hardy chiefs who govern'd ancient Spain.
 * Our independent ancestors disdain'd
 * All servile homage to despotick lords.

DON FRANCIS
 * I own my weakness---yet forgive my love;
 * My life and honour sacredly I plight,
 * To aid a brave and veteran band of chiefs,
 * Whose fathers fearless, dip'd the glittering sword,
 * Whet with revenge, in tides of Moorish blood,
 * To save their sons from servitude and chains.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * But we have not a moment's time to lose.
 * The pageant mounted on his gilded car,
 * Sweeps all the fickle multitude along:
 * Inaction or delay will ruin all,
 * And place the fav'rite nurs'd in fortune's lap,
 * Beyond the reach of aught but heaven itself,
 * To teach him what from man to man is due.
 * A battle ere tomorrow's sun retires
 * Shall shew the world our pedigree and fame;
 * The Celtiberian race shall ne'er be slaves,
 * Nor blush to own Don Juan for their son.

(Exeunt)

Scene II
Place of Velasco

(Enter Don Velasco and Conde Haro)

DON VELASCO
 * The brighten'd dawn lifts up its cheerful face;
 * The sun beams play to lighten thee to fame;
 * hill tops smile, and each propitious gale,
 * Wafts victory onward, with expanded wing,
 * To crown the glory of Velasco's house.

CONDE HARO
 * Unhappy Spain, by civil factions torn,
 * Assaulting friends, while foreigners invade.
 * Her burning cities, and her reeking sons,
 * Are drench'd in blood, our valour should protect;
 * While fierce disunion scowls on every brow,
 * And rancour whets the sword against ourselves,
 * The Turkish banners spread the German plains,
 * And France, resolv'd to humble Charles's pride,
 * Unites the crescent with the sacred cross.

DON VELASCO
 * Francis indeed may triumph at our gates,
 * Unless Don Juan, and the restless Cortes,
 * Are soon subdu'd, and peace restor'd to Spain.
 * One glorious conflict, one successful day,
 * Will shew the world the heir of Ferdinand
 * For empire born, in spite of all his foes.

CONDE HARO
 * The sword is drawn, and down the gulph of time,
 * Perhaps, its useless scabbard may be toss'd,
 * 'Till years roll on, and revolution's wheel
 * Whirls nations down, and empire sweeps away,
 * Ere peace benignant smiles on hapless Spain.

DON VELASCO
 * Then lose no time to crush this rebel race.

CONDE HARO
 * The noblest blood that ancient Spain can boast,
 * Thrills through their veins, and warms their gallant chiefs
 * With great ideas of liberty and law.
 * They claim the rights their ancient fires possess'd,
 * When, ere allegiance sworn, or fealty paid,
 * They bade the sov'reign recollect the claim,
 * That each, as good by nature as himself,
 * Were, when united, arm'd with power replete,
 * To smite the brow, and dash the scepter'd hand
 * That dare invade the meanest subject's right.

DON VELASCO
 * 'Tis but a faction of cabal and strife,
 * Bound by no ties of dignity or worth;
 * Devoid of honour, discipline, or faith;
 * Discord will waste, and jealousy divide,
 * And drive them backward from the routed field,
 * Dispers'd by thee, as dust before the wind.

CONDE HARO
 * Inur'd to arms, my soul’s estrang'd to fear;
 * Yet I lament my fate;---my fire and prince,
 * Point me to glory, combating my will,
 * And make my duty lead to deeds I hate.
 * This contest is no democratic rage,
 * No lewd tumultuous fury just let loose---
 * Dauntless and bold as fam'd Numantia's sons,
 * They wield the lance and bear the target high,
 * And boast their ancient independent race;
 * Unfold their pedigree, in freedom's line,
 * E'er since for liberty, the haughty Celts
 * In blood contested with the furious Goths.

DON VELASCO
 * Methinks some latent cause beclouds thy zeal
 * And checks the vigour of thy val'rous arm,
 * Retards thy glory, and may blast thy fame.

CONDE HARO
 * Not less resolv'd, or fearless than thyself,
 * No tongue shall e'er reproach thy house or name
 * With glory tarnish'd, by De Haro's fall
 * From valour, virtue, dignity, or fame,

DON VELASCO
 * Then haste, and chase these miscreants from the land---
 * Cut down their line, and blast their idle hopes,
 * And extirpate the bold seditious race.
 * Their houses wrap in one devouring flame---
 * The sword shall quell all factions in the land.

CONDE HARO
 * When virtue's vanquish'd, justice bids us spare,
 * And lend compassion to an hapless foe.
 * I ne'er will tinge the field with human blood,
 * If milder means can bloodless victory win.

DON VELASCO
 * Adieu, my son---my soul is all on fire.
 * Proud glory waits to make thy name immortal,
 * By promis'd triumphs ere the morrow close.

CONDE HARO
 * Urg'd on by thee, by glory and renown,
 * I'll serve my sov'reign as a soldier ought,
 * And take the field against my former friends,
 * But in the hero ne'er forget the man.

(Exeunt)

Scene III
(Don Juan De Padilla and Don Pedro)

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * The kingdoms of great Ferdinand are left,
 * To hunt for crowns in Germany and France,
 * While here Velasco plunders all the states.
 * Our delegates have yesterday return'd,
 * Without an audience at the sov'reign's court;
 * Stop'd on the way---forbid on pain of death,
 * With their complaints---their idle tales of wrong---
 * T'invade the regal dignity of thrones,
 * Or whisper murmurs in a monarch's ear.
 * Resentment, and a noble thirst of fame,
 * Must rouse the bold, reanimate the brave,
 * And brace the arm with vigour to repel
 * These bold invasions on great nature's rights.

DON PEDRO GHIRON
 * Has then the band of Dutch and Flemish race,
 * Who hover round, clos'd up the monarch's ear,
 * And steel'd his heart against the cries of Spain?
 * Ambition low' ring on a lordly brow
 * May yet subdue the citizens of Spain.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * Valencia arm'd, and Arragon arous'd,
 * Hold theirs and Castile's righteous cause the same.
 * The trump of war is echo'd through the land,
 * Wrought up to tempests by the cruel arm
 * Of base oppression, breaking o'er the mounds
 * Of law---of justice---equity and truth.
 * Is thy mind firm---irrevocably fix'd,
 * Or, to secure the sacred rights of Spain,
 * Or die a martyr in her glorious cause.

DON PEDRO GHIRON
 * The storm beats high---yet, will I hazard all,
 * My honour, fortune, freedom and my fame:---
 * I, by thy side, all danger will defy.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * Then reconnoitre round De Haro's posts;
 * The noble house of Albert's overcome,
 * Navarre's subdu'd---dismantled all her towns---
 * Peasants and nobles, citizens and slaves,
 * Promiscuously enroll'd in Charles's pay,
 * Sullen and fierce, disdain th' ignoble service:
 * Ripe for revolt, they, at my signal join,
 * And list themselves in a more noble cause:
 * Prepare their leaders for tomorrow's work.

(Exeunt)

Scene IV
(Don Juan De Padilla and Don Francis)

DON FRANCIS
 * Hast thou yet seen th' unhappy queen of Spain?
 * The vulgar ear, forever caught by sound,
 * Allur'd by pomp, by pageantry and show,
 * Revere her person and adore her name;
 * Her standard planted on the field of war,
 * Would sanction give to every bold design.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * I have beheld the ruins of a queen,
 * A sight too piteous for a soldier's eye---
 * Whose heart, unsteel'd by scenes of human woe,
 * Has yet a tender corner left for grief.
 * Rob'd of her crown, authority and peace---
 * Dethron'd, immur'd, neglected by her son,
 * Shut up in widow'd solitude to weep
 * Ungrateful Philip, who despis'd her charms,
 * She's but the weeping image of despair.

DON FRANCIS
 * Does she yet know the miseries of Spain?
 * The indignant wrongs and injuries we feel,
 * Beneath the reign of her oppressive son?---

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * She, all attentive, listen'd to the tale;
 * And rous'd at once as from lethargic dreams,
 * And starting, cry'd---is Ferdinand no more!---
 * Is that great monarch slumbering in the tomb,
 * While I, a wretched prisoner of state,
 * Stand the sad monument of human ills?---
 * She wept and sigh'd, till strong resentment rose,
 * And kindled in her breast a noble flame.
 * With all the powers of eloquence and truth,
 * I strove to sooth her wandering mind to rest.
 * In justice' sacred name I urg'd her aid
 * To counteract the cruelties of Charles,
 * To reassume her rights, and reign again,
 * To extricate her subjects from despair;---
 * She gave assent with dignity and ease,
 * And, spite of nature, seem'd to be a queen.
 * I nam'd Calabria's injur'd noble prince,
 * The heir of Arragon, long since depriv'd
 * Of his paternal crown, and princely rights,
 * Which Ferdinand, by violence, had seiz'd,
 * And justice bade his daughter to restore;
 * I urg'd her marriage with so brave a prince,
 * Entitled, both by virtue and by blood,
 * To wield the sceptre that his fathers won,
 * And shield her person from all future wrongs;
 * But naming love, her dormant passions wak'd,
 * And kindled up her former flame for Philip;
 * She sunk despondent, and refus'd to aid,
 * To act in council, or to guide the realm.

DON FRANCIS
 * Unhappy queen! thus to her people lost.
 * In melancholy's cell, let her remain,
 * While her son raves at large about the world,
 * Not less a madman than the Macedon,
 * Who kindled up the Grecian world in flame,
 * And rear'd a pile o'er all his murder'd friends.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * She, rescu'd from her guards, my prisoner is,
 * And, if we need, her signet is obtain'd.

DON FRANCIS
 * But malice whispers murmurs through the camp,
 * And half our soldiers clamour for their pay---
 * At least a part, before they take the field.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * Haste to Maria, whose undaunted soul
 * Reflects a lustre on her feeble sex;
 * By stratagem, she's gain'd an ample sum
 * To quiet mutiny, and pay the troops.
 * But ere the solemn midnight clock shall strike,
 * Return, and meet me at the gate of Toro.

(Exeunt)

Scene V
(Don Francis and Donna Maria)

DONNA MARIA
 * To make atonement for the guilt of men,
 * Altars are dress'd, and saintly relics shine:---
 * Instead of real sanctity of heart
 * They churches decorate with costly gifts:---
 * But reason, bursting from a fable cloud,
 * On a bright throne erects her regal stand,
 * And gives new sanctions from the voice of God,
 * To free the mind from superstition's reign.
 * No fables, legends, dreams, or monkish tales,
 * Shake my firm purpose, or disarm my mind,
 * When duty calls to make my country free.
 * The churches' treasures were our last resort,
 * And, join'd by all the matrons of my train,
 * In weeds of woe, and sable garments dress'd,
 * I kneel'd before the consecrated shrines,
 * And ask'd a blessing on my country's cause;
 * But 'twas to him whose sanction seals the claim,
 * Of peace and freedom to the human race,
 * I bow'd my soul, and rais'd my suppliant prayer,
 * That when a spark from chaos' womb had burst,
 * And light diffus'd o'er all the western world,
 * It might not be to gild a tyrant's car,
 * And make mankind the pageants of his will;
 * I then dismantled all the sacred shrines.

DON FRANCIS
 * Hah!---durst thou venture on so bold a deed!---
 * Leap priestly bounds---invade the churches' rights---
 * Disrobe the saints, and risque the public hate!---

DONNA MARIA
 * Necessity must sanctify the deed.---

DON FRANCIS
 * Thy soul was form'd to animate the arm
 * Of some illustrious, bold, heroic chief,
 * And not to waste its glorious fire away,
 * Beneath the weakness of a female form.

DONNA MARIA
 * Men rail at weaknesses themselves create,
 * And boldly stigmatize the female mind,
 * As though kind nature's just impartial hand
 * Had form'd its features in a baser mould:
 * But nice distinctions in the human soul,
 * Adopted follies, or inherent vice,
 * May be discuss'd in calmer times than these:---
 * We'll reason then---if possible regain
 * Whatever nature, or its author gave.
 * But Juan waits, and fortune's on the wing:
 * The fickle goddess waves her glossy plume,
 * And holds an era in the life of man,
 * When all is hung suspended on his choice;
 * Election made, judiciously he stands
 * On the proud summit of all human fame;
 * But judgment once erroneously form'd
 * Oft fixes his ill fate through life's career;
 * While a strong current bears him down the tide,
 * And wrecks his peace on every ripling stream.
 * The morn may smile propitious on our cause---
 * May make us free, or more completely slaves;---
 * Unrive the manacles, or drive the bolts,
 * And clank the shackles round the Spanish world.
 * Canst thou forget the soft Louisa's tears,
 * And chase her brother through the field of blood?
 * Thou, like a lion leaping on his prey,
 * Must aim thy javelin at De Haro's heart.

DON FRANCIS
 * Name not Louisa---I would forget she lives---
 * Or that she is the sister of my foe.
 * Mistaken man!---he deprecates this war
 * That lights his country in a wasting flame;
 * But thinks the era of her freedom lost,
 * Since first Ximenes' artful subtile wiles,
 * Threw such a weight in the despotic scale;
 * A standing army at the sov'reign's nod,
 * Which makes the monarch master of the laws,
 * And gives at will both liberty and life.
 * Yet Conde Haro has a noble soul,
 * Nor is less virtuous than truly brave.

DONNA MARIA
 * Virtue must spring from the maternal line
 * If it adorns the Conde Haro's breast.

DON FRANCIS
 * Tomorrow proves him what the world reports,
 * And weaves a garland to adorn his brow,
 * Or leaves his trunk a headless sacrifice,
 * To stamp fresh glory on Don Juan's name.

DONNA MARIA
 * Go, hasten on, and not a moment lose;
 * Remind the soldiers of Segovia's rights---
 * Review the battles fought on Ebro's banks---
 * Assure them all is safe, if they're but brave.
 * The sword maintains what their forefathers won.

(Exeunt)