Chapter XXVIII: Act III: SCENE I.--VICTORIA's Chamber

_Enter_ ALPHONSO, _with Music_.

_A Song is sung; when it is beginning_, VICTORIA _enters_.

SONG OF JEALOUSY.

_What state of life can be so blest
As love, that warms a lover's breast?
Two souls in one, the same desire
To grant the bliss, and to require!
But if in heaven a hell we find,
'Tis all from thee,
O Jealousy!
'Tis all from thee,
O Jealousy!
Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy,
Thou tyrant of the mind!_

_All other ills, though sharp they prove,
Serve to refine, and perfect love:
In absence, or unkind disdain,
Sweet hope relieves the lover's pain.
But, ah! no cure but death we find,
To set us free
From Jealousy:
O Jealousy!
Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy,
Thou tyrant of the mind._

_False in thy glass all objects are,
Some set too near, and some too far;
Thou art the fire of endless night,
The fire that burns, and gives no light.
All torments of the damned we find
In only thee,
O Jealousy!
Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy,
Thou tyrant of the mind!_ [_Exeunt Musicians._

_Alph._ 'Tis true, my tyrant father has confined me;
But love, who traverses the world at will,
Who knows not awe, nor law, nor parentage,
Has broke my tedder, and enlarged my bounds.

_Vict._ Retire betimes; the court is full of eyes,
As eagles sharp, fatal as basilisks,
Who live on looking, and who see no death[58].

_Alph._ I come but to depart, and go for ever,
Because denied the common rights of nature,
Which the first brother and first sister had.
Why were not you and I that happy pair?
But nature doats with age.

_Vict._ Whate'er it be, 'tis past redress, Alphonso.

_Alph._ But, then, shall Garcia take thee in his arms,
Glutted with joys which I would die to taste!
No, let me stab the wretch in every vein,
And leave him dry of pleasure, ere we part.

_Vict._ Alphonso, no; you cannot kill Don Garcia,
But you declare the cause, and own your love.

_Alph._ And what care I, what after ages say
Alphonso did, to make Alphonso happy?
But oh, you love! and would preserve his life
To be for ever his.

_Vict._ My dearest brother,
I hate your rival, and I die for you:
All but my spotless honour shall be yours.

_Alph._ By heaven!--but that word heaven comes
cross my thoughts--

_Vict._ Beware: for by my own I guess your passion.
You would, I fear--

_Alph._ Enjoy my heaven one moment--

_Vict._ And part with it for ever: Think on that.

_Alph._ That moment were eternity in little:
A mighty sum, but taken on content,
To save the tedious telling o'er and o'er.

_Vict._ Oh, we are too long together.

_Alph._ Fear you that?

_Vict._ I ought to fear it, but I trust my virtue.
Depart, my soul,--I will not ask you whither,
For fear I should repent of my repentance,
And follow you to death.

_Alph._ I go, Victoria,
For love's cold fit of jealousy returns.
You must not be Don Garcia's; swear you will not.

_Vict._ I swear I will not, by my own consent.

_Alph._ You may be forced;--oh, cursed jealousy,
Thou bastard son of Love, unlike thy father,
Why dost thou still torment me?

_Vict._ Trust my honour.

_Alph._ That may be chafed into a warmth, Victoria.
Talk, seeing, touching, are incendiaries;
And these may mount your young desires like straw,
To meet the jett that draws you.

_Vict._ Trust my love.

_Alph._ I swear I trust it, but I fear your beauty:
'Tis a fair fruit that hangs upon the bough,
Tempts, and is tempted.

_Vict._ 'Tis indeed a fruit.
Seen and desired by all, while yet unpulled,
But can be gathered by one only hand.

_Alph._ That one is Garcia;--still the fit returns:
I wish my jealousy could quench my love.

_Vict._ It cannot, if I measure yours by mine;
Or, if extinguished, like a trail of smoke
From a wax taper, soon would light again.

_Alph._ 'Tis so; for when I say I will not love,
Then I love most. Farewell, my only joy!
I go to hide me from the world and you.

_Vict._ As, when the sun is down,
His light is clipt into a thousand stars,
So your sweet image, though you shine not on me,
Will gild the horror of the night, and make
A pleasing scene of solitary grief.

_Enter_ VERAMOND _and_ XIMENA, _he with an Ovid in his hand_.

_Vera._ How darest thou, rebel, thus provoke my patience
Beyond all sufferance, and transgress thy bounds?

_Alph._ When kings and fathers, on their sons and subjects
Exact intolerable things to bear,
Nature and self-defence dispense with duty.

_Vera._ Oh, heaven! what horrid sin have I committed
That I was punished to beget this son?

_Alph._ I could ask heaven another question too,
But that 'tis not so decent. In few words;
Hither I came to take my latest leave
Of dear Victoria, then depart for ever;
And, buried in some solitary cave,
Forgetting and forgotten, end my days.

_Vera._ 'Tis what thou hast deserved: perform thy
penance.

_Xim._ So hard a sentence for so small a fault?
Are you a father, sir!

_Vera._ Is he a son?
Thou knowest not his offence.
But mark the glowing blood, the guilty flush
Upon Victoria's face, and read it there.

_Xim._ I know not what you mean.

_Vera_ Victoria, speak,
And clear yourself:--she answers not a word.
Nay, then my fears are true, on both sides guilty.

_Vict._ 'Tis found, and we are lost. [_Aside._

_Vera._ But what needs more conviction? know you this?
[_Shewing the Ovid to_ ALPH.
This book, the tutor of incestuous love?
The page is doubled down, and points thee to thy crime.
I feared, before, from every rolling glance,
How quick they shot upon thy sister's face;
And she received them all, like smoking flax;
Confessed the fire, and answered to the flame.

_Vict._ I love my brother, and avow that fire!
His love to me has raised his noble thoughts
To brave achievements for your crown and you:
For love's the steel that strikes upon the flint;
Gives coldness heat, exerts the hidden flame,
And spreads the sparkles round, to warm the world.

_Vera._ Oh, heavens, she makes a merit of her crime!
Victoria, I would yet think better of thee,
And therefore dare I not enquire too far,
Willing to doubt the guilt I fear to find.
Depart, and answer not.-- [_Exit_ VICT.
For thee, whom I abhor to call my son, [_To_ ALPH.
And wish thou wert a stranger to my blood--

_Xim._ That was a happy hint, I must improve it. [_Aside._

_Vera._ One way, and only one, remains to clear thee:
If with a holy fire thou lov'st thy sister,
Aspiring but to fame, not sinking down
Into the abyss of lust unnatural,
Consent that she may be Don Garcia's wife;
Else give the lie to all thy fair pretences,
And stand exposed a monster of mankind.
Foul as the fiends which fell from heaven's high towers,
Fall thou from empire so; and from my sight
Depart, accursed for ever.

_Alph._ Gladly I leave you, but shall go more lightly,
If eased of this your dreadful imprecation:
O let me go unloaded with your curse,
And I will bless you for my banishment!

_Vera._ So may that blessing or that curse o'ertake thee,
As thou obeyest or disobeyest my will.

_Alph._ Guiltless of sin, with conscience to my friend,
I go, to shun that fatal hour, that shews me
Victoria married, and Alphonso lost. [_He is going._

_Xim._ Stay yet, Alphonso, for one moment stay:
For somewhat, if I durst, I have to speak,
Which would at least take half thy load away,
And free thy shoulders from the weight of sin.

_Vera._ Ximena, darest thou hope to palliate incest,
And gild so black a crime?

_Xim._ I gild it not; but, if I prove it none,
You may be kind, Alphonso may be happy,
And these domestic jars for ever cease.

_Vera._ Explain yourself.

_Xim._ Afford me then your patience.
A mighty secret labours in my soul,
And, like a rushing stream, breaks down the dam;
This day must give it vent. It rests in you
To make it end in a tempestuous night,
Or in a glorious evening.

_Vera._ No more preface.

_Xim._ You wonder at Alphonso's haughty carriage,
His fiery temper, and his awless mind.

_Vera._ Too true, Ximena.

_Xim._ And he wonders more
At your harsh nature, and your rugged usage,
On each side unbecoming son and father;
And yet the cause of both is to be found.
But, ere I farther shall proceed to speak,
Command your royal prisoner to be brought;
For I must be confronted with Ramirez,
And in his presence tell you wonderous things,
Which if he vouch not, let Ximena die.

_Vera._ I sent for him to hear his final doom,
And think he waits without.--
Admit the prisoner. [_He goes to the door, and speaks._

_Enter_ RAMIREZ, _guarded_.

Now, sir, is yet your haughty soul resolved
To quit your empty title for your freedom?

_Xim._ Ramirez, answer not to raise his passion:
For now the important secret of our lives
Must come to public view; and on that hinge
Depends thy crown, thy liberty, and life,
My honour, and thy son's.

_Alph._ What means my mother? [_Aside._

_Vera._ A son, Ramirez!

_Ram._ Yes, a son I had.

_Vera._ He died an infant here in Saragossa.

_Ram._ A living son I have; and, since the queen
Is pleased to expose my life
Before a judge so prejudiced as you,
Undaunted, in the face of death, I speak,
And claim Alphonso mine.

_Vera._ There needs no more: I spare thee all the rest;
My wife's adultery, thy foul interloping,
My own dishonour, and that bastard's birth.

_Xim._ Injurious words, unfitting you to speak,
And me, my lord, and those concerned, to hear.

_Alph._ [_To_ VER.] Though I would give whate'er the sun beholds
Not to be yours, yet, when my mother's fame
Is questioned, none shall wrong her innocence;
Nor shall Ramirez go
Unpunished for that infamous aspersion.

_Ram._ Alphonso, peace; your father bids you peace.

_Vera._ Then, what am I?

_Ram._ His foster-father.

_Vera._ Impudently said;
And yet I hope 'tis true. So much I hate him,
That I could buy the public scorn, to be
An alien to his blood.

_Xim._ Have patience, sir,
And you shall have your wish on cheaper terms;
But hear me speak.

_Vera._ Good heaven, then give me patience!

_Xim._ When you and brave Ramirez, then your friend,
Me and my sister married, four full years
We passed in barren wedlock, childless both;
Ramirez, you remember, brought his queen
To Saragossa on a friendly visit;
Then, as we both were married on one day,
We both conceived together.

_Vera._ I observe it,--
That, when Ramirez came, you both conceived!
Mark that, and, if thou hast the face, proceed.

_Xim._ My lord, I dare:--
You took me once aside, and, as your rage
Inspired your soul, spoke thus: Ximena, know,
That, if the fruit thou bear'st be not a son,
Henceforth no more my queen, we part for ever.
The word was hard, I bore it as I could;
I prayed, and heaven, in pity, heard my vows:
Two boys, in one fair morning, were disclosed
By me, and by my sister;
And both the fathers equally were blest.

_Vera._ Say one was blest with two, and speak more truly.

_Xim._ Forbear this language, sir, or I am dumb.
It seems that you deserved not him you had,
For in seven days heaven ravished your Alphonso;
My sister's little Veramond survived,
And she's a living witness of this truth.
Great was my grief, but greater was my fear,
From your, alas! too much experienced anger.
Thus low reduced, and urged by anxious thoughts
Of what I might expect from your unkindness,--
Now, speak, Ramirez, and relate the rest;
For my tongue faulters, and denies its office,
So much I fear my lord should take offence.

_Ram._ Then, like or disapprove it, thus it was:
She told my wife and me this mournful story;
Her fears, for thy resentment of thy loss,
If, by misfortune, it should reach thy ears,
Begged secrecy, and then implored our aid
To substitute the living for the dead,
And make our Veramond pass for thy Alphonso.
A hard request, but, with compassion moved,
At length twas granted.

_Vera._ Is this true, Ximena?

_Xim._ So heaven and you forgive my pious fraud,
As what he says is certain.

_Alph._ O joyful news! Oh happy day! too good
To end in night--My father, and my king!\
[_Runs to_ RAMIREZ,
_kneels to him, and kisses his hand_.
My soul foreknew you, with a sure presage
Of native duty, and instinctive love.

_Ram._ Arise, my son.

_Vera._ You own him, then?

_Ram._ I do.

_Vera._ A welcome riddance.
Meantime, in prospect of a double crown,
You gave the sparrow leave to brood upon
The cuckoo's egg.

_Ram._ The advantage was to you:
He proved his blood upon me, when we fought;
Fierce eagles never procreate fearful doves.
I sent him word he was my son before
The battle, but the hand of fate was in it,
The note miscarried, and we blindly met.

_Xim._ Past accidents embitter both your minds;
Think forward on your mutual interest.
Alphonso loves Victoria:
I saw it in the seeds, before disclosed
To other eyes; connived at it, approved it.

_Vera._ A most commodious mother!

_Xim._ Blame me not.
Guilt there was none, but in their apprehension;
And both their virtues barred ill consequences.
Now take the blest occasion by the foretop,
And on their marriage found a lasting peace.

_Ram._ A trivial accident begot this war;
Some paltry bounds of ill distinguished earth,
A clod that lay betwixt us unascertained,
And royal pride, on both sides, drew our swords:
Thus monarchs quarrel, and their subjects bleed.
Remove your land-marks, set them where you please;
Stretch out your Arragon on my Castile;
And be once more my brother.

_Alph._ I implore it;
And, prostrate, beg your pardon and your grace.
I have offended in my proud behaviour;
But make Victoria mine, and what your son
In duty wanted, by your son-in-law
Shall doubly be supplied.

_Xim._ What would you more?

_Vera._ [_To her._] Are you the mediatrix of this peace?

_Xim._ It well becomes the softness of my sex
To mediate for sweet peace, the best of blessings;
And, like a Sabine wife, to run betwixt
Relations' lifted swords.

_Ver._ A rare chaste Sabine, you!
To save the adulterer of thy husband's bed.
See there, Alphonso's father, that old goat,
Who on two sisters propagated lust,
And got two children, for himself and me.
Suppose thee chaste,--a favourable guess
To any of thy sex,--these are my foes;
[_To_ RAMIREZ.] Thou first, the former sharer of my sheets,
A king without a kingdom; Thine is conquered,
And Garcia with Victoria shall enjoy it.

_Ram._ So monstrously you wrong your wife and me--

_Vera._ No more, my will is law.

_Ram._ So tyrants say.

_Vera._ I will not hear thee speak.--Conduct him hence,
And stow him in the dungeon's depth with toads.
[_The Guards carry off_ RAMIREZ.

[_To_ ALPH.] For thee, the worthy son of such a father--
[_Walks by himself._

_Xim._ [_To_ ALPH.] 'Tis desperate now; and I, with ill-timed zeal,
Have hastened your destruction.

_Alph._ [_To her._] You have saved me.

_Vera._ [_Aside._] Say I should put the ungrateful wretch to death;--
He's thought my son, and, whilst so thought, 'tis dangerous
To imprison him; the people might rebel.
He's popular, and I am ill beloved.--
Then banish him;--that's best, but yet unsafe:
He may with foreign aid reconquer all.--
I'll venture that, with Garcia to my friend;
He shall recall his troops, mine are at hand,
And ready prest for service. [_He comes to_ ALPH. _and_ XIMENA.

_Xim._ Now the storm.

_Vera._ [_To_ ALPH.] Thy doom's resolved; too gentle for thy crimes.
I spare thy life, depart to banishment;
To-morrow leave the realm, this day the town,
And, like the scape-goat driven into the desart,
Bear all ill omens with thee.

_Alph._ Proud of my exile, with erected face,
I leave your court, your town, and your dominions.
Pleased that I love at least without a crime.
Lighter by what I lost, I tread in air,
Unhappy, but triumphant in despair. [_Exit_ ALPHONSO.

_Vera._ Behold how haughtily he strides away,
Lofty and bold; as if not banished hence,
But seeking for some other place to reign.
I think he cannot hope; but, lest he should,
Victoria soon shall be Don Garcia's bride.--
[_To_ XIMENA.] Go, madam, for I know you are in haste,
To greet your daughter with this goodly news.
Tell her, Alphonso is no more my son;
But tell her too, he shall not be her husband.
Bid her prepare herself to wed Navarre;
Whether by force, or by consent, I care not;
To-morrow shall determine that affair.
Nor shall my will be frustrate, or delayed;
Kings are not kings, unless they be obeyed. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.--_The Street before_ LOPEZ'S _House_.

_Enter_ SANCHO, _habited like_ DON ALONZO DE CARDONA, _with a hunch-back_, DALINDA _meeting him_.

_Dal._ I watched your coming at the window, and told my father. He's coming out to welcome you.

_San._ But if I chance to break out into a little wit sometimes, you'll excuse my frailty.

_Dal._ Pugh, you are so suspicious of yourself, and have so little reason for it. Be as witty as you can; I fear you not.

_Enter_ DON LOPEZ, _and salutes him_.

_Lop._ Noble Conde, you are welcome from the wars. And who did best in the battle, I beseech your honour?

_San._ Why, next my honour, one colonel Sancho did best.

_Lop._ Who, Sancho? he's little better than a coxcomb.

_San._ Nay, he has too much wit; if he had as much grace, 'twould be better for him.

_Lop._ But he's your lordship's rival in my daughter.

_San._ Is he so? then make much of him, old gentleman.

_Lop._ You would not have me prefer him to your excellency?

_San._ Faith, you can hardly chuse amiss betwixt us two; he's my other self, man.

_Lop._ I make a vast difference betwixt you.

_San._ That shall be a very good jest between you and me another time.

_Dal._ [_Aside._] The fool's too much a fool; he's going to discover himself, if I prevent it not.-- [_To_ LOPEZ.] Make haste, father, and put him upon the point, or he'll give me up to Sancho.

_Lop._ Let Sancho be no fool, since your lordship pleases; for he is not bound to make my daughter any satisfaction, as you are.

_San._ And satisfaction she shall have. What, I hope you don't think I am a eunuch?

_Dal._ [_Aside._] Oh heaven! I shall be ruined between them; I forgot to instruct my father not to meddle with that point.--[_To_ LOPEZ.] Say no more of it, I beseech you, sir.

_Lop._ [_To her._] 'Tis for thy good; let me alone.-- You know you have injured the poor girl, my lord.

_San._ Not to my remembrance, sennor. You and I may have quarrelled, I confess, and I think I may have given you some hard words to-day.

_Dal._ [_Aside._] Now has he forgotten he's my lord, and is harping upon the quarrel he had with him as Sancho. This must end in my destruction.

_Lop._ Your lordship and I can have had no quarrel to-day, for I have not seen you this twelvemonth.

_San._ That's true; now I remember myself, you have not.

_Lop._ But that you have wronged my daughter is manifest.

_Dal._ [_To_ SANCHO.] Sir, I must needs speak a word with you in private. If you love me, confess you have enjoyed me; for I told my father so, on purpose to make him the more condescending to the match.

_San._ [_To her._] A word to the wise, I understand you. Now you shall see me top upon the old fellow [_To_ LOPEZ.] Well, sennor, I won't stand with you for a night's lodging with your daughter; I acknowledge I have been a little familiar with her, or so: but, to make her amends, I will marry her, and consummate with her most abundantly.

_Lop._ Then all shall be set right, and the man shall have his mare again.

_Enter_ CARLOS, _habited like_ SANCHO.

_Lop._ What, another Don Alonzo? this is prodigious!

_Carl._ [_Aside, seeing_ SANCHO.] Bless me, the post is taken up already, and the true count is here before me.

_Dal._ [_Aside._] This is not my Conde; but some other counterfeit. [_To_ SANCHO.] You are as true a count as he: stand to your likeness.

_San._ Would I were out of my likeness! [_Sneaking back._

_Dal._ Put forward, man, I'll second you.

_San._ But what a devilish high back he has gotten too? he'll carry me away a pick-a-pack, that's certain.

_Carl._ [_Aside._] I find him now: by their whispering and by his aukwardness, this must be Sancho; and I'll out-face him. [_To_ LOPEZ.] Sennor Don Lopez, I am come, by your permission, to renew my addresses to your fair daughter.

_Lop._ Your lordship is most welcome.

_San._ Whose lordship?

_Lop._ Why, one of your lordships; I know not which, for by your backs you are both my lords. That's as you two can agree the matter.

_San._ [_To_ CARLOS.] Sirrah, where did you steal that back of mine?

_Carl._ Sirrah, I was born with it; but what he-camel has your mother been dealing withal, that you are begotten in my resemblance?

_San._ What, I hope you wont pretend to pass for the true Conde?

_Carl._ I am Don Alonzo de Cardona.

_San._ And so am I.

_Carl._ If you stay a little longer, I'll stretch your bones, till you are as strait as an arrow.

_San._ Do not provoke me; I am mischievously bent.

_Carl._ Nay, you are bent enough in conscience; but I have a bent fist for boxing.

_San._ And I have a strait foot for kicking.

[_They come up to each other._

_Lop._ Here will be bloodshed immediately.--Hold, noblemen both; will ye be content that I should examine ye, and then stand to my award which is the true Conde?

_San._ Well, to save Christian blood, I will.

_Carl._ And, to save Jewish blood,--that is your blood, sirrah,--I am contented too.

_Lop._ [_To_ CARLOS.] What command had you, my lord, in the last battle?

_Carl._ I had none; I was a volunteer, and charged with honourable Colonel Carlos in the fight.

_Lop._ [_To_ SANCHO.] And what command had your lordship there?

_San._ I had none neither; and I charged with that rogue Carlos.

_Lop._ [_Aside._] So far they are both right, as I have heard. [_To_ SANCHO.] And what became of you afterwards?

_San._ Now I am posed; for Carlos told me he knew nothing of the count afterward:--Sennor, I do not well remember what became of me, for I was in a very great passion; but I did prodigious things, that is certain.

_Carl._ [_To_ LOP.] Sennor, you may see he is a counterfeit, because he knows nothing of himself; but I, the true Conde, was trodden under the horses' feet, and lay for dead above half an hour.

_San._ Well, and now I remember myself, I was laid for dead too, for just about half a year.

_Lop._ [_To_ DAL.] This is the wrong lord; he can say nothing but what the other lord has said before him.

_Dal._ Then he's the likelier to be the true Conde; for he's a fool, father.

_Carl._ You see, sennor, he does not remember what became of him, as I said before.

_San._ How would you have a man remember, when he was laid for dead?

_Carl._ But I recovered, rogue, and pursued the enemy.

_San._ And I recovered, and pursued them too, for above an hundred miles together, at full speed.

_Lop._ That's farther than you needed, by three-score miles; for 'tis but forty from the place of battle to the city.

_Carl._ Yes, at full speed upon the same horse, and never drew bit neither.

_San._ [_To_ DAL.] Help me, dear Dalinda! I am bogged, you see.

_Dal._ [_To him._] That's with pursuing your enemies too far; but I'll help you out again--[_To_ LOPEZ.]--Pray, sir, let me examine them a little.

_Lop._ You'll make nothing of that first Conde.

_Dal._ Yes, a son-in-law, I warrant you.--[_To them._] Which of you two promised me marriage?

_Both._ I did.

_Dal._ [_To_ CARL.] And did you enjoy me?

_Carl._ Heaven forbid, madam! What, before marriage?

_Dal._ [_To_ SAN.] And what did you?

_San._ I did enjoy her; so I did: and there I was before you, for a false Conde, as you are.

_Carl._ Speak for yourself, madam, and clear your reputation from that scandalous companion.

_Dal._ [_With her Fan before her Face._] I must confess the true Conde has enjoyed me; the more my frailty.

_Lop._ The matter mends on that side.

_San._ Now, goodman Goose-cap, who's the most a man of honour, he, who has enjoyed a fair lady, or he, who has only licked his lips, and gone without her?

_Carl._ [_Aside._] I see she takes his part; this is all a lie contrived betwixt them.

_Enter a Messenger._

_Mess._ [_To_ DAL.] Madam, I am sent to you on a sad errand from the late Conde Don Alonzo, who was killed in the last battle.

_Lop._ You are mistaken, friend; for here he stands alive and well. [_Pointing to_ SANCHO.] And, for fear of failing, here's a counterpart of him. [_Pointing to_ CARLOS.

_Mess._ Do not abuse yourself, sennor; neither of these is the true Conde: I took him from under the horses' feet, and he had only life enough to say, remember me to my fair Dalinda.

_Lop._ [_To_ SAN.] What does your lordship say to this?

_San._ He was fairly killed, I must confess; but I can give you a better account of his lordship afterwards.

_Lop._ You? why, who are you?

_San._ Nay, I am he too.

_Mess._ You see he's a counterfeit; and so is the other.

_Lop._ 'Tis too true.

_Dal._ Did the Conde leave me nothing in his will?

_Mess._ Not a cross, madam.

_Dal._ There's the same payment for your news; be gone, poor fellow. [_Exit Messenger._

_Carl._ At least I have the satisfaction, that he's discovered as well as I am. [_Throwing off some part of his disguise._] Now, Sancho, you are welcome to the discovery of your fine intrigue.

_Lop._ Then, Sancho, I make good my word to you; since the Conde is dead, you stand fairest for my daughter;--and you, cousin Carlos, with your wit and your poverty, are in _statu quo._--Come away, son-in-law, and leave the forsaken lover to make himself a willow garland.

[_Exeunt_ SANCHO, LOPEZ, _and_ DALINDA.

_Carl._ Yet if I could hinder Sancho from marrying her, I should make myself some satisfaction. I'll think on't farther; and something comes into my head already. [_Stands musing._

_Enter_ ALPHONSO.

_Alph._ Now, Carlos, what make you here in this disguise? I have been looking for you at least half an hour.

_Carl._ Only a masquerade, sir; an innocent diversion in times of peace.

_Alph._ No, Carlos, these are times of war, not peace.
I must abruptly tell you what is past:
I am Ramirez's son, not Veramond's;
I love Victoria, and for her am banished.

_Carl._ Just my own condition: I have had a revolution in my small affairs too; I am banished, and going to look for the next commodious tree to make a wry face upon it.

_Alph._ I know you brave; and, if you love me still,
Follow my fortune: yours shall be my care.
Our army lies encamped without the walls;
Your regiment is quartered in the town:
I think I can with ease revolt the troops,
Because they love me; and, with their assistance
Release my father, and redeem my mistress;
While you and yours, at an appointed signal,
Procure me entrance.

_Carl._ Right; and force the gate----

_Alph._ That's all I ask: I think myself as worthy
To wed Victoria, as this foreign prince.
But, if you find reluctance to this action,
Now speak, that I may seek some other friend.

_Carl._ No, sir; I shall never break with you for so small a matter as a rebellion. I warrant you for my soldiers; they'll never flinch, when there's a town to plunder.

_Alph._ The signal and the time shall be concerted;
Victoria be the word----
That happy name our bold attempt shall bless,
And give an omen of assured success. [_Exeunt severally._