Flor. No!. Hem. Then, Florinda, thus I spurn the tyrant! Abjure his prophet's law, no Moor can wed Flor. Well, dost thou renounce me? Alv. Hear me, Hemeya !—will you yield obedience To Philip's will, and swear yourself a Christian? Hem. A Christian! Alv. Ay! it is the law. Hem. The law ! What law can teach me to renounce my country? Alv. Then choose between your prophet and Florinda. Hem. Wilt thou abandon me? [To Florinda. Alv. Let my deep curse fall on her headFlor. Don't breathe those dreadful wordsDo I deserve that you should doubt me?—no! In infancy I gazed upon your face With an instinctive reverence, that grew To reason's tender dictate: never yet Have I offended you; and let me say, My tears may flow from eyes long used to weeping My form may wither in the gripe of grief My heart may break indeed; love can do this; But never can it teach Florinda's hand To draw down sorrows on a father's age, Or to deserve his curse. Hem. This, this from thee? Flor. You've found the dreadful secret of my soul! But hold-what am I doing?-pride, where art thou? Am I so fallen in passion ?-oh, my father, Lead me from hence! Hem. Florinda, stay one moment— Don't leave me-don't abandon me. Flor. My father, lead me hence! Alv. [To Hemeya.] You have heard Alvarez' will— Take one day for decision: if to-morrow You do not, in the face of heav'n, renounce [Exit, R. Hem. Oh, misery !-my Florinda, look upon me! Flor. Yes, I will look upon thee, and perhaps Flor. Hemeya, listen to me! My heart has owned its weakness: yet, thank heav'n, My sex's dignity: I've not the pow'r But none shall see the blushes where they hang!- I'll hide my wretchedness!-Farewell, Hemeya! [As she goes out, she looks back for an instant. Oh, Hemeya! [Exit, R. Hem. She blest me as she parted; yet I feel Nor rush to clasp it here ?-would the faint traveller, END OF ACT I. ACT II. SCENE I.-The Exterior of the Inquisition. Mal. Renounce his people! Haly, I did not think, Hal. After long struggles of reluctant honour, Is to be solemnized. Mal. I have heard enough. Hal. But when you tell what you had come to teach him; And he has heard that on his brows shall shine The crown his fathers wore; when you have told him— He shall not wear a crown. A diadem That once burnt bright within him. Thou, meanwhile, That to their secret ears I may unfold Renounce the faith [Exit Haly, L. That suffering had endeared, when twenty thousand When freedom's flame from yonder mountain tops But hold! he comes! there was a time, Hemeya, Enter HEMEYA, R. I charge thee not to touch my garment's edge! Hem. Oh, Malec, this from thee! when I behold thee, After long months of absence, dost thou scorn me? Mal. Dost thou not scorn thyself? I know it all; Fame has not kept thy baseness from mine ears. What, for a wanton! Hem. Wanton! Mal. Ay, a Spanish wanton ! Is she not one of those same melting dames, That let men's eyes blaze on unveiled charms, Hem. I permit you To rail against myself; heap on my head Mal. What should I fear? Away, slight boy! and speak not of thy father. Hem. I am guilty; I confess that I am guilty. Mal. Forbear, fond youth! my eyes are palled already. Rein in thy wanton fancy; dost thou think That I am made to hear a lover's follies? Go, tell them to the moon, and howl with dogs! Hem. We have no country! Mal. Thou hast, indeed, no country? Hem. Are we not bound to earth? the lording Spa niard Treads on our heads! we groan beneath the yoke That, shaken, gores more deeply! Resistance will but ope new founts of blood To gush in foaming torrents. Dost thou forget Look on yon gloomy towers; e'en now we stand Mal. Art thou afraid? look at yon gloomy towers! Has thy fair union told thee to beware Of damps and rheums, caught in the dungeon's vapours? Or has she said those dainty limbs of thine Were only made for love? Look on yon towers! Ay, I will look upon them; not to fear, But deeply curse them! There ye stand aloft, Hem. By heavens ! Thy burning front, thy flaming eyes, proclaim it! thou? I feel thy spirit's mastery; my soul Fires in the glowing contact! Malec, speak! Tell me, what can we do? Mal. What can men do Who groan beneath the lash of tyranny, And feel the strength of madness? Have we not cime ters? 'Twas not in vain I sought those rugged heights. Nor vainly do I now again return; Amid the Alpuxerra's cragged cliffs, Are there not myriads of high-hearted Moors, That only need a leader to be free? |