The Ladies of Castile/Act III

Scene I
(Conde Haro and Louisa)

(De Haro arm'd and equipt for battle)

DONNA LOUISA
 * Alas my brother!---
 * Already arm'd---the burnish'd helmet on!---
 * The hostile trump awakes from broken sleep
 * Before the bird of morn has hail'd the day.
 * False glory throbs within thy beating breast---
 * Thy lifted sword displays its whetted point,
 * Not to dispel the fierce, barbarian Moor,
 * Or chase the alien from these blighted shores:
 * It wounds the sons---the citizens of Spain.

CONDE HARO
 * Upbraid me not---nor sharpen thus the pangs
 * That rankle here, and wound thy brother's breast,
 * Words cannot paint---nor can Louisa feel,
 * The agonizing pains that pierce my heart.

DONNA LOUISA
 * What can disturb the hero arm'd for fame?---
 * The prince's favour, and his father's love,
 * Anticipate the glory he pursues.

CONDE HARO
 * The secret dies within De Haro's breast,
 * Unless some strange, fortuitous event,
 * Should heal my heart, and reinstate my peace.

DONNA LOUISA
 * O might I weep my weary life away,
 * And close mine eyes on misery at large!---
 * Yet I could bear my griefs tenfold enhanc'd,
 * If this might heal, or mitigate thy pain,
 * Or sooth the anguish of a brother's heart.

CONDE HARO
 * Bear up thyself against the storms of life---
 * The sharpen'd pangs of disappointed love.

DONNA LOUISA
 * Canst thou forgive th' involuntary sigh,
 * The starting tear---that, as an April morn,
 * Pours down in torrents and obscures the sun?

CONDE HARO
 * I know the secret thorn that wounds thy peace.

DONNA LOUISA
 * I would conceal the weakness of my heart;
 * Yet not from thee---but from a sterner eye.

CONDE HARO
 * Blush not, Louisa---'tis a noble flame,
 * And Francis' virtues merit all thy love.

DONNA LOUISA
 * Yet he's thy foe---the brother and the friend
 * Of noble Juan---and can this lead thy hand---
 * This gentle hand---bath'd in a sister's tears,
 * To plunge thy danger in a hero's breast,
 * From whence may rush a most exalted soul,
 * Adorn'd with every grace that wins the heart,
 * Or dignifies the man?-

CONDE HARO
 * Great fouls---form'd in the same etherial mould,
 * Are ne'er at war---they, different paths
 * Of glory may pursue, with equal zeal;
 * Yet not a cruel, or malignant thought,
 * Or rancorous design, deform the mind,
 * I much esteem Don just and his friends,
 * But numerous ties engag'd my sword to Charles,
 * And gratitude had bought the buckler on,
 * Ere I was nam'd the champion in his cause:
 * Yet if success my loyal purpose crowns,
 * Mercy shall spare, where justice don't condemn;
 * Believe Louisa, not DON FRANCIS' life
 * Is more thy care than it shall be my own.

DONNA LOUISA
 * The indiseriminating arrow flies,
 * And often wounds what friendship's arm would save;
 * Should war's uncertain chance make him thy captive---

CONDE HARO
 * The monarch and the laws must then decide.

DONNA LOUISA
 * My bleeding heart anticipates my fate:
 * Oh! what a bubble 'tis ye glory call---
 * Mistaken name---a phantom of the brain,
 * That leads the hero on to leap the bounds
 * Of every social tie---till blood---till death,
 * Spreads horror over nature's frighted face:---
 * Ambition rears his fierce and furious fang---
 * In grizly tresses jealousy attends
 * 'Till discord reigns, and civil fury burns,
 * And arms the son against a father's life,
 * Or plants a poignard in a dearer hart,
 * Oh! how severely mark'd my hapless fate;
 * The best of brothers whets the dagger's point---
 * The fondest husband wields the sharpen'd lance,
 * And both are aim'd at sad Louisa's breast.

CONDE HARO
 * Thy husband!---hah---rash maid---

DONNA LOUISA
 * Yes---by each sacred tie.---
 * Thus incoherent my distracted prayer,
 * Prophanes the altar when to God I bow;
 * I start---I tremble---left kind heaven grant
 * The boon I ask. Affrighted at myself,
 * I call it back, and quick revoke my wish,
 * Lest it involve me in supreme distress.

(Trumpets and martial music without)

CONDE HARO
 * A day decides---the trumpet sounds to arms;
 * Tomorrow will disclose new scenes of woe,
 * Or ope the gates to happiness and peace.

DONNA LOUISA
 * My heart's too full---it bends me to the grave;
 * My anger'd sire suspects---he solemn moves,
 * Majestically grave---with awful brow,
 * And chides severe whene'er I meet his eye;
 * Oh!---could I hide forever from his frown!---

(Exeunt)

Scene II
(Don Velasco and Donna Louisa)

DON VELASCO
 * Fond foolish maid---what secret guilt's conceal'd,
 * That thus in tears---all pensive and alone,
 * Thou seek'st to hide, e'en from a father's eye?---

DONNA LOUISA
 * Alas! I weep for human woes at large:---
 * I weep my country and my hapless friends.\
 * Man, the vile sport of restless passion, roves
 * Through sad inquietudes and painful cares,
 * 'Till his ambition sets the world on fire.
 * 'Mongst all the ills that hover o'er mankind,
 * Unfeign'd, or fabled, in the poet's page,
 * The blackest scrawl the sister furies hold,
 * For red ey'd wrath, or malice to fill up,
 * Is incomplete to sum up human woe;
 * 'Till civil discord, still a darker fiend,
 * Stalks forth unmask'd from his infernal den,
 * With mad Alecto's torch in his right hand
 * To light the flame, and rend the soul of nature.

DON VELASCO
 * But most of all, a daughter is a curse,
 * Whene'er she lets her wanton thoughts run loose.
 * Weak maid retire---in thy apartment hide,
 * Nor dare to shew thy weeping face abroad,
 * 'Till war shall cease, and business gives me time
 * To crown thy nuptials with a noble lord,
 * To whom thou art betroth'd---who claims thy hand;
 * Thou shalt be his---when from the field are chas'd
 * These bold conspirators---I've pledg'd my faith.

DONNA LOUISA
 * Let thy Louisa wake compassion up.

(Falls on her knee)


 * Revoke thy vow, and let me live a maid.

DON VELASCO
 * Both by the host, and by St. Peter's key.
 * I've sworn, nor will revoke my plighted faith;
 * Prepare thyself for wedlock's sacred vows;
 * One week completes the matrimonial tie.

DONNA LOUISA
 * O let me live in some dark hermitage,
 * Or in some gloomy cell---I'll cloister'd die,
 * But can't this once obey my father's will.

(Louisa trembling and saint --- Velasco, enraged, leads her off)

Scene III
(Don Juan De Padilla and Don Francis)

DON FRANCIS
 * Alas ! my lord, an unexpected blow!
 * But thou'rt prepar'd for, all that fate can do,
 * Too great to fear---too good to be dismay'd.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * So well I know the shifting tide of life,
 * I'm not appall'd whene're its ebb runs off,
 * And leaves man shallow'd on the oozy strand.

DON FRANCIS
 * Tordesilas is seiz'd---the queen betray'd---
 * Don Pedro fled, and join'd the emperor's troops.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * No genuine faith, or patriotic worth,
 * Had ere a place in his corrupted breast.
 * While justice holds the golden scales aloft.
 * And weighs our glorious cause with equal hand,
 * And bids each valiant chief support her claim,
 * Needless the aid of Pedro's dastard arm.

DON FRANCIS
 * High heav'n in wrath supports the royal cause,
 * And gives success o'er Charles's foreign foes;
 * E'en Solyman the great, fatigu'd with war,
 * Of Mustapha afraid, sighs to return
 * To Roxalana's captivating charms,
 * Agrees a truce, and leaves th' Hungarian plains.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * Resentful, brave, and nurs'd in valour's school,
 * Francis still waits him at the Pavian gate.

DON FRANCIS
 * The king of France, whose evil stars combine
 * To give his rival empire o'er the world,
 * Has lost a battle at the Pavian gate,
 * And languishes a prisoner to Charles.

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * Hah!---is Francis made the fickle sport of fortune?
 * A ruder game the wanton never play'd,
 * To strip the wreaths, and blast a monarch's fame.
 * Must Gallia's generous, brave and valiant king,
 * Do homage for his crown at Charles's feet?
 * If victory declares on freedom's side,
 * My arm shall aid in all his just demands.
 * Ere Ferdinand had seiz'd the neighbouring crowns,
 * He form'd a system to easlave mankind:
 * But Charles improves on his despotic plan;
 * Yet one campaign, one signal victory gain'd,
 * May shake the tyrant from his triple throne,
 * And once again, o'er the European world,
 * Relight the torch by tyranny obscur'd.
 * But if his cruel sword at last prevails,
 * Europe will bleed from Tagus to the Scheld,
 * Beneath his barb'rous persecuting race.
 * We then must strike one bold decisive blow;
 * The rights of man were rescu'd by the sword,
 * From Nimrod down to Cæsar or to Charles---
 * Haste on this moment and rejoin the troops.

DON FRANCIS
 * At freedom's pedestal I've laid my hopes,
 * The brightest boon of life---my promis'd bride---
 * My lov'd Louisa's charms;---to be her lord,
 * I would not riot in her arms a slave.

(Exit Francis)

Scene IV
(Don Juan De Padilla, solus)

DON JUAN DE PADILLA
 * This day decides, and gives the world to Charles,
 * And plunges Spain in darkness and despair;
 * Enwraps the mind in superstition's veil,
 * While freedom dies on his all conquering sword;
 * Or spreads victorious-her expanded wing,
 * And shrouds the rights which reason lends to man.
 * I give my life a cheerful sacrifice;
 * 'Tis a just debt my country may demand.
 * And if I fall in such a glorious cause,
 * I'll boast my lot;---let future pens record
 * Don Juan's arm once shook a tyrant's throne.
 * 'Twas on the spot, where now Toledo stands
 * Our ancestors defeated Pompey's troops;
 * And in the height of Rome's exalted fame,
 * Numantia's plains have smok'd with Roman blood.
 * E'en in the zenith of republic pride,
 * The virtuous Scipio found it no mean task,
 * To subjugate Numantia's warlike sons;
 * Nor does our blood so cold and languid run,
 * That we have not the courage to be free.
 * The loan of life I only hold a boon,
 * When freedom lights to glory and to fame;
 * But when she sits beneath a naked shrine,
 * With moss grown tresses o'er her surrow'd brow,
 * And lays her laurels at a tyrant's feet,
 * Let vulgar souls embrace the servile chains,
 * And adulation bask in courtly smiles,
 * 'Till liberty herself expires in tears.---
 * My spirit's unsubdu'd---I'll ne'er submit:
 * I yet must play a noble, glorious game,
 * That shakes the sceptre, or secures a grave.

(Tumult, and noise of battle, without)

(Exit)

Scene V
(Shouts of victory, hurry and confusion)

(Donna Maria, sola)

DONNA MARIA
 * The clarion roars and scatter'd parties fly,
 * Confusion, tumult, hurry and dismay,
 * O'erspread each guilty face.--
 * What mean the rumours that assail my ear?---
 * Throw down their arms---as cowards fly the field!---
 * Could the brave Cortes thus forsake their lord?---
 * My throbbing heart augurs a thousand ills,
 * That shake my frame and terrify my soul,
 * As if I saw their new flown ghosts advance,
 * Just reeking from the carnage of the field;
 * Yet feel within a manly force of mind
 * Urging to deeds heroic and sublime,
 * Which but to name, one half my timid sex,
 * Would fall the victims of their own despair.
 * I scorn the feeble soul that cannot brave,
 * With magnanimity, the storms of life.
 * Then why disturb'd with these ill omen'd fears?---
 * Yet what am I, if my Padilla falls?---
 * Ah! if the dastard citizens have fled---
 * Just anger'd heaven surely has decreed
 * That on the point of Charles's conquering sword,
 * Each vestige of their ancient rights should die.
 * I'll wander down to yonder darksome grove,
 * (And prostrate fall before the etherial king,
 * Who holds his empire o'er a jarring world,
 * Makes peace and freedom smile at his command,
 * Or the fell tyrant's suffer'd to succeed,
 * To chain the will, or manacle the mind;)
 * There will I calm my agitated breast,
 * Dry off those tears which, starting, have betray'd
 * The soften'd weakness of a female mind.

(Enter SOCIA)

SOCIA
 * Fly, dearest lady---save thyself and son---
 * And let the faithful Socia guard thy steps.

DONNA MARIA
 * Is all then lost---and is Don Juan slain?---
 * Tell the whole tale, and set my soul on fire,
 * Ere yet it freeze with agony and doubt.

SOCIA
 * Haste, my dear mistress---fly these cruel scenes
 * Of murder, rapine, persidy and blood.
 * The routed troops, with hasty frighted steps,
 * All backward tread, nor could Don Juan's zeal,
 * His valour, virtue, fortitude or fame,
 * Subdue their fears and rally them again,
 * Nor damp the ardour of the hot pursuit.

DONNA MARIA
 * And does he live to glut their barb'rous rage?
 * Or did some seraph catch the hero's breath,
 * His latest sigh to see his country free,
 * And gently wast his kindred soul away?

SOCIA
 * Our foes may boast that victory was theirs;
 * But royal ranks lie weltering on the plain
 * Where Juan's blood has warm'd the glorious spot.
 * Yet lose no time, for hither hastes a guard
 * To seize and drag to Conde Haro's tent
 * The wife and infant of my much lov'd lord.

DONNA MARIA
 * Alas! my child---my son---my darling boy!
 * The fairest virtues beam in his young eye;
 * Each dawning grace sits blooming on his cheek,
 * And speaks him heir of all his father's fame.
 * Shall he, an orphan on the world be toss'd,
 * And lose his name among a group of slaves?
 * Forbid it, heaven!---a mother's fears
 * Shall not disarm my heart.-

SOCIA
 * I thought the strength of thy superior mind
 * Could nobly brave the worst that fate could do.

DONNA MARIA
 * It shall---come, lead me on---
 * To my Padilla's tomb-
 * His clay cold corpse I'll bathe in streams of blood,
 * Drawn from his foes, and sprinkled o'er his grave.
 * The cypress gloom, in dark fix'd shades shall bow,
 * And weeping willows drop a silent tear,
 * 'Till rolling years see that last sands run out,
 * When wither'd Time throws down his useless glass,
 * And shrouds beneath eternity's big orb.

SOCIA
 * If thou would'st be more wretched than thy lord,
 * Then weep and linger---thoughtless of thy son.

DONNA MARIA
 * Go, bring him hither---rob'd in funeral pomp---
 * Attended by my retinue and guards;
 * I will not fly---Toledo yet is strong:
 * Maria ne'er will drag a wretched life,
 * To wail Don Juan's fate in vulgar grief:
 * Nor yet in slavery meet a lingering death,
 * Beneath a tyrant's foot.
 * I will avenge my lord-
 * Though the rough surges in loud tempests roar,
 * 'Till the rude billows meet the lowering clouds---
 * I never will despair, till my soul flies
 * And mixes with the bold exalted shades,
 * The stern brow'd spirits of the feudal lords---
 * Who now bend down, and frowning from the skies,
 * Chide back their dastard sons to take the field,
 * Bravely to fight---to conquer or to die.

SOCIA
 * My heart misgives---I fear thy rash resolve,
 * Yet I obey.-

(Exit Socia)

DONNA MARIA
 * Ye powers who sit in judgment o'er the world,
 * Or ye malignant fiends who blast our hopes,
 * Grant Charles's restless soul may be condemn'd
 * With Sisyphus to roll in endless pain,
 * Up the Tartarean hill---the load of empire---
 * That envy'd bauble which mankind adore;
 * Then drag him down, successlessly to weep,
 * This shadow hunted long in human blood.

(Exit)