Chapter IX: Act V: SCENE I.--The interior of Orsino's hermitage

Alfonso _is discovered sleeping._

_Enter_ Orsino _and_ Ricardo.

_Orsi._ Come they in force?

_Ricar._ At least five thousand strong, But stronger far in loyalty than numbers. Scarce heard my tale, clamours of rage and pity Burst from the croud, and every peasant swore, He'd perish or preserve that sovereign's rights, Who used them ever for the poor man's good.

_Orsi._ Honest Ricardo: When to serve thy king I judged thee truest of the true, I erred not. The lords to whom I sent thee, what reception Found'st thou from them?

_Ricar._ Such as almost would prove, Ingratitude is not the vice of courts: But when I said, Orsino was to head them, Their zeal, their joy-----

_Orsi._ No more.--Are they at hand?

_Ricar._ An hour will bring them here.

_Orsi._ We'll then tow'rds Burgos, And ere the swarth Castilian sees the sun Pour on his rip'ning vines meridian beams, Caesario's royal dream shall close forever. --[_Looking on_ Alfonso.]---He sleeps--Oh! come all ye who envy monarchs, Look on yon bed of leaves, and thank heaven's kindness, Which saved ye from the sorrows of a throne.

_Ricar._ My dear, my injured master.

_Orsi._ Go, Ricardo, Watch for your friends; and when from yonder rock Thou see'st their forces, warn me. [_Exit_ Ricardo.

_Orsi._ [_To_ Alfonso,] Canst thou sleep, And sleep thus soundly on so rude a pallet? There's many a prince, whose couch is strown with roses, Finds their sweet leaves but serve to harbour aspies: There's many a conqueror stretched on down, who passes The live-long night to woo repose in vain, And view with aching, restless, sated eyes, The trophies which nod round his crimson bed. But fraud, ambition, treachery, plots, and murder, In vain would banish his repose who sleeps, Watched by his prospering kingdom's anxious angel; And lull'd to slumber by his people's prayers. But see,--He wakes.--(_Lowering his vizor._)

_Alfon._ (_Waking._) Do what thou wilt, Caesario, But harm not my poor child.--How now!----Where am I? --What place--I see it all.--Lo!--where he stands, Whose well-timed warning snatched me from the flames, And led me hither.--Say, thou dread preserver, Mysterious stranger, ease a father's anguish: How fares it with my child? What news from Burgos?

_Orsi._ Burgos believes thee dead. Caesario fills Thy vacant throne.

_Alfon._ I ask not of my throne. My child! Oh! say, my child?----

_Orsi._ Is safe, is well, And hopes ere long to see her sire once more Adorned, with regal pomp, and lord of Burgos.

_Alfon._ Alas! vain hope.

_Orsi._ Not so: thy faithful nobles, By me apprized, now haste to give thee succour. Ere night, Caesario falls; and piercing his, Thy just revenge shall print a mortal wound On his proud father's heart.

_Alfon._ His father's?

_Orsi._ Ay, On his, who paid thy love this morn with curses, Spurning thy proffered friendship--Know'st thou not Caesario is Orsino's son?

_Alfon._ Just Heaven! And does Orsino love him?

_Orsi._ Dearly, dearly, Loves him to madness; loves him with like fury. As hates he thee.--Oh! glorious field for vengeance: Think how 'twill writhe his haughty soul to hear, This son, this darling, perished on the scaffold, Branded, disgraced, a traitor, a foiled traitor. Joy, joy, Alfonso; ere 'tis night thy wrath Shall gorge itself with blood.

_Alfon._ Now blessings on thee, Who giv'st me more than all my foes can take. Come, come, my friend; where are these troops? Away, Forward to Burgos.

_Orsi._ (_Detaining him._) Whither now?

_Alfon._ To Burgos. Down with the walls: make once Caesario mine--

_Orsi._ And then----?

_Alfon._ I'll seek his father, grasp his hand, And say,--"This stripling stole my darling daughter, Betrayed my confidence, usurped my throne, Aimed at my life, and almost broke my heart: But he's Orsino's son; Orsino loves him, And all's forgiven."----(Orsino _kneels, takes the king's hand, and presses it to his lips._)--How now?

_Orsi._ (_Raising his vizor._) All is forgiven.

_Alfon._ 'Tis he:--Orsino's self.

_Orsi._ My pride is vanquished: My king--Thy hand, my king.

_Alfon._ My heart, my heart; There find thy place, and never leave it more. Oh, from my joy again to name thee friend, Judge of my grief to think thou wert my foe; How could I doubt thee? how commit an error So gross.

_Orsi._ No more; e'en now thou pay'st its penance: In this long chain of present woes, that error (Which seems at first so light) was the first link. It tore me from my son: else, reared by me, Formed in thy court, and schooled by my example, My son must sure have proved thy truest subject, Oh! learn from this, how weighty is the charge, A monarch bears; how nice a task to guide His power aright, to guide it wrong, how fatal. If subjects sin, with them the crime remains, With them the penance; but when monarchs err, The mischief spreads swift as their kingdom's rivers, Strong as their power, and wide as their domains.

_Enter_ Ricardo.

_Orsi._ Now friend?

_Ricar._ From yonder height I caught distinctly The gleam of arms.

_Orsi._ 'Tis well--Away, my sovereign, And join your troops; then shape your march tow'rds Burgos, Nor doubt the event, for who that loves his country. To save his king shall fear to die himself? None, surely none! The patriot glow shall catch From heart to heart throughout Castile, as swiftly As sparks of fire disperse through summer forests; Till all in care of thee forget themselves, And every good man's bosom bucklers thine! Forward, my king!--Lead on! [_Exeunt._

Scene II.--_A chamber in the palace._

_Enter_ Henriquez _and_ Melchior.

_Mel._ And the grave council Fell blindfold in the snare?

_Hen._ They could not fail, So well Caesario spread it--With such art He told his tale, and in such glowing colours Painted Alfonso's worth, and his son's guilt, That all cried vengeance on the prince Don Pedro, And bade Caesario mount his forfeit throne.

_Mel._ And he, no doubt, obeyed?

_Hen._ In modest guise He owned his union with the princess gave him Some rights, but vowed, so heavy seemed its weight, He feared to wear a crown, so prayed them spare him: Till won by urgent prayer at length he yielded, And kindly deigned to be a king.

_Mel._ He's here, And Bazil with him.

_Enter_ Caesario, _father_ Bazil, _and attendants._

_Caesa._ (_Entering._) Bid her rest assured, Her king is her first subject. But, good father, How bears her health, this shock? Say, looks she pale? Does she e'er name----

_Bazil._ She bade me lead thee hither, And claimed my promise not to tell thee more. I'll warn her, thou art here. [_Going._]

_Caesa._ Say too, my heart Shares every pang of her's; that crowns are worthless Bought with her tears; that could my prayers my blood, Restore Alfonso's life----

_Bazil._ Hold!--On that subject What thou wouldst tell her, will come best from thee. [_Exit._

_Caesa._ Ha!--Meant he----No! Sure had he known my secret, The monk had canted 'gainst the guilt of treason, Thundering out saint-like curses!----Vile, vile chance, Which led the princess.--Yet what fear I now? She keeps my secret: then she loves me still, And, loving, must forgive me--Hark! I hear her. Now all ye powers of bland persuasion, shed Your honey on my lips. Come to my aid, Ye soft memorials of departed pleasures, Kind words, fond looks, sweet tears, and melting kisses! Sighs of compassion, drown her anger's voice! Smooth ye her frown, smiles of delight and love! Make her but mine once more, and this day crowns me Monarch of all my soul e'er wished from fate: Yes, in my wildest dreams I asked but this, "Love and revenge! A throne and Amelrosa!"-- Retire!--I dread to meet her.

[Henriquez &c. _Exeunt_.

Amelrosa _enters, pale, and leaning on father_ Bazil.--Estella, Inis, _and ladies follow weeping._

_Amel._ 'Tis enough, Good father, and one task performed, I'll meet That hour with joy, which seems to guilt so fearful. Leave me awhile: Anon, if time allows it, We'll talk again--Farewell, my friends.

_Inis._ [_Kneeling._] Oh! princess! Oh! royal victim!

_Amel._ Nay, be calm, my Inis. Pass a few years, and all had been as now, Perhaps far worse: Receive this kiss of pardon, And give it back in heaven!----Farewell!

[_Exeunt_ Estella &c.

_Manent_ Caesario _and_ Amelrosa.

_Caesa._ How grief Has changed her! Ah! how sunk her eyes! her cheeks How pale!--She comes!--How shall I bear her anguish!

_Amel._ Not to reproach, for that you sought a life, Which you well knew I prized above my own; Not to complain, that when my heart reposed On you for all its earthly joys, you broke it, I seek you now: but with true zeal I come To warn thee, yea with tears implore thee, turn From those most dangerous paths, which now thou tread'st. Oh! wake, my husband! Close thy guilty dream; Be just, be good! be what till how I thought thee! That when we part (as ere two hours me must) We may not part forever.

_Caesa._ How to answer, Or in what words excuse--Could my best blood Wash out thy knowledge of my fault.--

_Amel._ My knowledge? And say, on earth none knew it! say thy crime To eye of man were viewless as the winds, And secret as the laws which rule the dead: Could'st hide it from thyself?--Would not he know it, Whose knowledge more than all thou ought to dread, His, who knows all things?--Oh! short-sighted mortals! Oh! vain precautions! Oh! misjudging sense! Man thinks his secret safe, for no ear heard it! Man thinks his act unknown, for no eye saw it! But there was one above both saw and heard, When neither ear could hear, nor eye could----

_Caesa._ Thou lovely moralist! Oh! take me! school me! Mould thou my heart, and make it like thine own.

_Amel._ Dost thou speak thus?

_Caesa._ Be that one act forgiven, And prove----

_Amel._ Oh! that were light: As yet thou'rt guilty In thought alone. My father lives!

_Caesa._ Indeed!

_Amel._ He starts!--He feigned!--Oh! for heaven's love; my husband, Trifle not now! this hour is precious, precious! My soul is winged for heaven, and stays its flight, In hopes of teaching thine the way to follow: Let not its stay be vain! let my tears win thee, And turn from vice: Repent; be wise; be warned; For 'tis no idle voice that gives the warning; I speak it from the grave!

_Caesa._ The grave!

_Amel._ What fear'st thou? Why shudder at a name?--Oh! if thou needs Wilt tremble, tremble for thyself, not me. I die to live; thy death may be for ever! Short are my pangs; thy soul's may be eternal!

_Caesa._ Die? Die!--Each word--Each look--Dreadful suspicions. But no! it cannot, shall not be!

_Amel._ It shall not? As I've a soul, in one short hour, Caesario, That soul must kneel before the throne of God.

_Caesa._ Mean'st thou----

_Amel._ E'en so; I'm poisoned!

_Caesa._ Torture! madness! Within there!

_Re-enter father_ Bazil, Estella, &c.

_Caesa._ Help! Oh! help! The princess dies! I'll speed myself.----

_Amel._ [_Detaining him._] No, no, thou must not leave me: My hour of death is near, and thou must see it--

_Caesa._ Distraction!

_Amel._ Must observe, how calm the transit, How light the pain, how free death's cup from bitter, When virtue soothes, and hope exalts the soul, I've seen a sinner die; Last night I closed Ottilia's lids, and 'twas a night of horror! Each limb, each nerve was writhed by strange convulsions, Clenched were her teeth, her eye-balls fixed and glaring; She foamed, she raved, and her last words were curses!---- But look, Caesario!--I can die, and smile!

[_Sinks into_ Estella's _arms._

_Caesa._ [_In despair._] My life!--My soul!----

_Amel._ [_In a faint voice._] But while one moment's mine, By all thy vows of love, by those I breathed, And never broke through life, never, no, never, I charge thee, I conjure thee----

[_Starting suddenly forward._]

Powers of mercy, Whence this so glorious blaze?

_Caesa._ How her eyes sparkle!

_Amel._ Look, friends! Look, look!--My mother, my dead mother! Rich in new youth, and bright in lasting beauty! She floats in air; her limbs are clothed with light! Her angel-head is wreathed with Eden's roses! Heaven's splendours rove amid her golden locks, While her blest lips and radiant eyes pour round her Airs of delight and floods of placid glory! She moves!--She smiles!--She lifts her hand!--She beckons! World, fare thee well!--Mother, lead on!--I follow! [_Exit with_ Estella, &c.

_Caesa._ [_Alone._] My brain! my brain!--Oh! I ne'er knew till now, How well I loved her!--[_Following her._]

_Enter_ Henriquez.

_Hen._ Turn, Caesario, turn! We're lost! Alfonso lives; e'en now his troops Assail our walls.

_Caesa._ Confusion! is all hell Combined----

_Enter_ Melchior.

_Mel._ Betrayed, betrayed! The gates are opened; The townsmen join our foes; I saw the king First in the fight.----

_Caesa._ The king?--My brain is burning; I'll cool it with his blood.--Forth, forth, my sword: Forth, nor be sheathed till I return thee dyed With royal gore--Away!

[_Exeunt_ Henriquez, _and_ Melchior; Caesario _is following when_ Amelrosa _shrieks from within: he stops and remains motionless._]

_Amel._ [_Within._] Oh! mercy, mercy!

_Inis._ [_Within._] She dies!

_Estel._ [_Within._] Nay, hold her! hold her down!

_Amel._ [_Within._] Oh! Oh!

[_Solemn requiem chanted within._]

Peace to the parted saint! Pure soul, farewell!

[_The scene closes._]

Scene III.--_A field of battle--alarums--thunder and lightning._

_Soldiers cross the stage fighting._

_Enter_ Orsino.

_Orsi._ Oh! shame, shame, shame!--Sun, thou dost well to hide thee, Nor light Castile's disgrace.--Oh! I could tear My flesh for rage!

_Enter_ Ricardo.

_Ricar._ All's lost!--the foe prevails! What must be done, Orsino?

_Orsi._ Where's the king?

_Ricar._ He fights still.

_Orsi._ Seek him! save him! bid him fly, Fly with all speed: thou know'st to find his courser. Away!

_Ricar._ General, thou'rt wounded!

_Orsi._ 'Tis no matter.

_Ricar._ Thou'lt bleed to death.----

_Orsi._ And if I should, I care not: The king, the king!--Oh! waste no thought on me: The best of subjects can but lose one life, But thousands perish when a good king bleeds. Nay, speed!

_Ricar._ [_Looking out._] See! see! our troops--

_Orsi._ They fly, by heaven! Turn, turn, ye cowards! 'Tis Orsino calls! Follow, slaves follow me, and die or conquer!

[_Soldiers enter pursued by_ Henriquez, &c. Orsino _rallies them, and drives_ Henriquez _back_.]

Scene IV.--_Before the walls of Burgos--The storm continues._

_Enter_ Caesario.

_Caesa._ Shall I ne'er find him? Shall my mother's spirit Still ask revenge in vain? This flame, which burns My blood up, shall it ne'er be quenched with his? 'Tis he! 'tis he!--I see the high plume waving O'er his crowned helmet:--Thunders, cease, nor rob me, Of his expiring shriek!--Turn, turn, Alfonso!

[_Exit._

[_Shouts of victory._]

_Enter_ Henriquez, Melchior, Marcos, Gomez, _and soldiers_.

_Hen._ We triumph, Melchior!--See our trusty squadrons Range the field unopposed. But where's our chief?

_Mar._ How now! what clamour.----

_Mel._ Look, Henriquez, look! Caesario and the king in single combat!

_Hen._ They come this way!--mark, with their ponderous blows How their shields ring!--Caesario loses ground! Yield thee, Alfonso!--_Interposing between_ Alfonso _and_ Caesario, _who enter fighting._

_Caesa._ Back, I say! back, back! No arm but mine----

_Alfon._ Caesario, pause, and hear me! Whate'er thou wilt----

_Caesa._ Thy life!

_Alfon._ Medina's dukedom, And Amelrosa.

_Caesa._ Flames consume the tongue, That names her! Thou hast rent my wound anew, Recalling what was mine, but is no longer! Look to thy heart, for if my sword can reach it, Thou diest!--Come on!--[_They fight_; Alfonso _loses his sword, and is beaten on his knees._]

_Caesa._ Thou'rt mine!--and thus--[_At the moment that he motions to stab_ Alfonso, Orsino, _without his helmet, deadly pale, and bleeding profusely, rushes in, and arrests his arm._]

_Orsi._ Hold, hold!

_Caesa._ My father bleeding! Horror!

_Orsi._ Does that pain thee? Oh by this blood, a father's blood, the same Which fills thy veins, and feeds thy life I charge thee, Shed not thy king's.

_Caesa._ Father thy prayers are vain! He broke my mother's heart! his own must bleed for't! Release my arm.

_Orsi._ My son, I kiss thy feet: Thy father kneels; let him not kneel in vain. Nay, if thou stirr'st, my deadliest curse.----

_Caesa._ 'Twill grieve me, But yet e'en that I'll brave:--Curse; still I'll strike! No more!

_Orsi._ Can nought appease thee----

_Caesa._ Nothing, nothing!

_Alfon._ Nay, cease, Orsino: 'tis in vain----

_Caesa._ True, true! This to thy heart.

_Orsi._ Oh! yet arrest thy sword, My son.----

_Caesa._ He dies!

_Orsi._ One word, but one!

_Caesa._ Despatch them.

_Orsi._ Swear, ere you strike the blow, if still your power Answers your will, as now it does, the king Has not an hour to live!

_Caesa._ An hour?--An age! Thrones shall not buy that hour. By hell I swear, Alfonso breathes his last, if fate allows me To live one moment more.

_Orsi._ [_Stabbing him._] Then die this moment.

_Caesa._ My heart, my heart!--Oh! oh!

[_Falls lifeless at_ Orsino's _feet._

_Alfon._ What hast thou done?

_Orsi._ Preserved Castile in thee.

_Mel._ Hew him to pieces!

_Hen._ Monster thy son----

_Orsi._ He was so; yet I slew him. Think ye, I loved him not?--Oh! heaven, the blood My breast now pours, gives me not half such pain As that which stains this poniard: yet I slew him, I, I his father!--And as I with him, So, traitors, shall your father deal with ye, Your father who frowns yonder.--[_Thunder._]--mark! he speaks! The avenger speaks, and stretches from the clouds His red right arm.--See, see! his javelins fly, And fly to strike you dead!--While yet 'tis time, Down, rebels, down!--Tremble, repent, and tremble! Fall at your sovereign's feet, and sue for grace.

_The conspirators sink on their knees._

_Alfon._ Oh! soul of honour.--Oh! my full, full heart! Orsino, friend!----

_Orsi._ No more--Thy hand--farewell. Life ebbs apace--Oh, lay me by my son, That I may bless him ere I die--Pale, pale: No warmth:--No sense:--Not one convulsive throb: Not one last lingering breath on those wan lips! All gone! all, all!--So fair, so young, to die Was hard, most hard: canst thou forgive thy father, Canst thou, my boy? he loved thee dearly, dearly, And would to save thy life have died himself, Though he had rather see thee dead than guilty. My sand runs fast.--Oh! I am sick at soul! I'll breathe my last sigh on my son's cold lips. Clasp his dead hand in mine, and lay my heart Close to his gaping wound, that it may break 'Gainst his dear breast.--My eyes grow faint and clouded. I see thy face no more, my boy, but still Feel thy blood trickle!--Oh! that pang, that pang! 'Tis done--All's dark!--My son, my son, my son!

[_Dies._

_End of Act V._