_Ram._ Hark! is the king defeated? hark!
_Osma_. I hear
Such acclamation as from victory
Arises not, but rather from revolt,
Reiterated, interrupted, lost.
Favour like this his genius will retrieve
By time, or promises, or chastisement,
Whiche’er he choose—the speediest is the best—
His danger and his glory let us share;
’Tis ours to serve him.
_Ram._ While he rules ’tis ours.
What chariot-wheels are thundering o’er the bridge?
_Osma_. Roderigo’s—I well know them.
_Ram._ Now, the burst
Of acclamation! now! again, again.
_Osma_. I know the voices; they are for Roderigo.
_Ram._ Stay, I entreat thee—one hath now prevailed.
So far is certain.
_Osma_. Ay, the right prevails.
_Ram._ Transient and vain their joyance, who rejoice
Precipitately and intemperately,
And bitter thoughts grow up where’er it fell.
_Osma_. Nor vain and transient theirs, who idly float
Down popularity’s unfertile stream,
And fancy all their own that rises round?
_Ram._ If thou still lovest, as I know thou dost,
Thy king—
_Osma_. I love him; for he owes me much,
Brave soul! and cannot, though he would, repay.
Service and faith, pure faith and service hard,
Throughout his reign, if these things be desert,
These have I borne toward him, and still bear.
_Ram._ Come, from thy solitary eiry come,
And share the prey, so plenteous and profuse,
Which a less valorous brood will else consume.
Much fruit is shaken down in civil storms:
And shall not orderly and loyal hands
Gather it up? (Loud shouts.) Again! and still refuse?
How different are those citizens without
From thee! from thy serenity! thy arch,
Thy firmament, of intrepidity!
For their new lord, whom they have never served,
Afraid were they to shout, and only struck
The pavement with their ferrules and their feet:
Now they are certain of the great event
Voices and hands they raise, and all contend
Who shall be bravest in applauding most.
Knowest thou these?
_Osma_. Their voices I know well—
And can they shout for him they would have slain?
A prince untried they welcome; soon their doubts
Are blown afar.
_Ram._ Yes, brighter scenes arise.
The disunited he alone unites,
The weak with hope he strengthens, and the strong
With justice.
_Osma_. Wait: praise him when time hath given
A soundness and consistency to praise:
He shares it amply who bestows it right.
_Ram._ Doubtest thou?
_Osma_. Be it so: let us away;
New courtiers come—
_Ram._ And why not join the new?
Let us attend him, and congratulate;
Come on: they enter.
_Osma_. This is now my post
No longer: I could face them in the field,
I cannot here.
_Ram._ To-morrow all may change;
Be comforted.
_Osma_. I want nor change nor comfort.
_Ram._ The prisoner’s voice!
_Osma_. The metropolitan’s?
Triumph he may—not over me forgiven.
This way, and through the chapel—none are there.
[_Goes out_.