_Gar._ May heaven and your brave son, an_The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 08

Your own prevailing genius, guard your age

From such another day of doubtful fate!

But if it come, then Garcia will be proud

To be again the foil of great Alphonso.

_Vera._ It might, and well it had become my son,

[_Looking about for_ ALPHONSO.

To speak your words; but you are still before him,

As in the fight you were.

_Xim._ Turn to your father, and present your duty;

[_Pulling_ ALPHONSO _by the sleeve_.

He thinks himself neglected, and observes ye.

[_Here_ GARCIA, _after bowing to the King and Queen, goes to the

two Princesses, and salutes them. After a little dumb courtship,

he leads out_ VICTORIA _and_ CELIDEA; _the Ladies follow_;

ALPHONSO _observes it with discontent, and then turns to his

Father_.

_Alph._ I saw you, sir, engaged in ceremonies,

And therefore thought I might defer this office,

To give you time for decent thanks to Garcia.

_Vera._ You rather went where more affection called you.

_Alph._ I may have been too slack in outward shew;

But when your service, and my honour called,

None was more forward in the fighting part.

_Vera._ The rugged business of the war is over;

Softness and sweetness, and a gentle air,

Would make a mixture, that would temper well

That inborn fierceness of your boiling mind.

_Alph._ I stand corrected, sir; and let me tell you now,

That sweetness, which so well you have advised,

Fortune has put in your own hand to practise

Upon this royal soldier; till we fought, [_Showing_ RAMIREZ.

Your equal, now your prisoner of the war;

And once, (alas, that still it is not so!)

The partner of your thoughts, and bosom friend.

_Xim._ [_Aside._] Heaven, that inspired thee with this pious thought,

Add virtue and persuasion to thy words,

And bend my stubborn lord!

_Vera._ Say, have you more to speak on his behalf?

_Alph._ Much more; his fair behaviour in the war,

Not plundering towns, nor burning villages;

His bravery of mind, his dauntless courage,

When, hand to hand, he made me stoop beneath

His weighty blows, and often forced to doubt

The fortune of my youth against his age.

_Vera._ Proceed, proceed; for this is but to say,

That thou wert almost worsted in the combat.

_Alph._ I have already said much more than needs,

To move a noble mind;

Such as my father's is, or ought to be.

_Vera._ Come, let me hear my duty from my son.

_Alph._ If more be wanting on so plain a theme,

Think on the slippery state of human things,

The strange vicissitudes, and sudden turns

Of war, and fate recoiling on the proud,

To crush a merciless and cruel victor.

Think, there are bounds of fortune set above,

Periods of time, and progress of success,

Which none can stop before the appointed limits,

And none can push beyond.

_Xim._ He reasons justly, sir.

_Alph._ Ramirez is an honourable foe;

Use him like what he is, and make him yours.

_Ver._ By heaven, I think,

That, when you coped with him in single fight,

You had so much ado to conquer then,

You fear to engage him in a second combat.

_Alph._ The world knows how I fought:

But old men have prerogative of tongue,

And kings of power, and parents that of nature.

Your pardon, royal sir.

_Vera._ I give it you;

Your battle now is paid at the full price.

[XIMENA _whispers_ ALPHONSO _for a moment_.

_Alph._ Fear not, I curb myself. [_To_ XIMENA.

_Ram._ [_To_ VERA.] Your son has mentioned honourable terms;

Propose them, Veramond, and for his sake,

So much his valour and rare courtesy

Have wrought upon my soul, I will accept them.

_Vera._ Who gave you leave

To speak of terms, or even to speak at all?

_Ram._ And who should give me liberty of speaking,

But heaven, who gave me speech?

_Vera._ How dares my captive

Assume this boldness to his conqueror?

_Ram._ You have not conquered me; you could not, Veramond.

'Tis to Alphonso's arms that I am prisoner.

_Vera._ Under my auspices Alphonso fought;

He led my forces.

_Ram._ Yes, and made them too

By his example; else they ne'er had conquered.

_Vera._ A bargain! a plain compact! a confederacy,

Betwixt my son and thee, to give me part

Of what my better stars make all my own.

_Alph._ Sir, I must speak----

_Vera._ Dare not, I charge thee, dare not!

_Alph._ Not vindicate my honour?

By heaven I will, to all the world, to you:

My honour is my own, and not derived

From this frail body, and this earth you gave me;

But that etherial spark, which heaven inspired,

And kindled in my new-created soul.

You tell me, I have bargained with Ramirez,

To make his ransom cheap.

_Vera._ To make it nothing,

To rob thy father of his victory,

And, at my cost, oblige my mortal foe.

Fool, dost thou know the value of a kingdom?

_Alph._ I think I do, because I won a kingdom.

_Vera._ And knowest not how to keep it.

_Ram._ What claim have you? What right to my Castile?

_Vera._ The right of conquest; for, when kings make war,

No law betwixt two sovereigns can decide,

But that of arms, where fortune is the judge,

Soldiers the lawyers, and the bar the field

_Alph._ But with what conscience can you keep that crown,

To which you claim no title but the sword?

_Vera._ Then ask that question of thyself, when thou

Thyself art king. I will retain my conquest;

And if thou art so mean, so poor of soul,

As to refuse thy sword in keeping it,

Then Garcia's aid,--

Whose share of honour in that glorious day

Was more than thine,--during my life, shall guard it,

And, at my death, shall heir it.

_Alph._ Don Garcia is indeed a valiant prince;

But this large courtesy, this over-praise

You give his worth, in any other mouth,

Were villainy to me.

_Xim._ That was too much, Alphonso; shew the reverence

That sons should bear to fathers.

_Alph._ [_To her._] Did I not say, in any other mouth,

The king excepted still?

_Ram._ Had I a son, a son like your Alphonso,

The pride of war, and darling of the field,

I should not thus receive him, nor detract

From such high actions. Let me tell you, sir,

(For I, who felt his arm, can best report him)

There lives not one, who breathes this vital air,

That e'er could boast, he made Ramirez bend,

Before Alphonso undertook the task.

_Vera._ Confederacy again! How they enhance

Their mutual worth, and bandy fame betwixt them,

Into each other's hand!--

[_Looks on_ RAMIREZ, _and starts back_.

What's this I see?

Nay, now I wonder not, the captive prates

With so secure presumption to his king.

Well may he brave me, while his murdering sword

Sits as before, insulting on his side.--

Who gave thee back that weapon?

_Alph._ I, who took it.

_Vera._ A careful son, to trust a foe with arms

So near his father.--Haste, disarm the prisoner.

_Alph._ Ere you dishonour me, first hear me speak:

I took his royal word, to be my prisoner;

And on his honour, I restored his sword,

Because I thought, that mark of sovereign justice,

And awful power, should not for one short moment

Be wanting to a monarch.

_Vera._ Then when he lost the power, he lost the claim,

And marks of sovereign right;

Nor without my consent, couldst thou dispose

Of him, or of his sword, or of his life--

Once more, disarm him:--What, am I betrayed?

[_Guards look amazed, but stir not._

Have I no subject left?

_Xim._ Submit, Alphonso.

I, who am partial to you, must condemn

This carriage, as unduteous to your father.

_Ram._ [_To_ ALPH.] Brave prince, too warmly you assert my cause,

Though 'tis indeed the common cause of kings.

But, to prevent what ills on my account

May hence ensue betwixt a son and parent,

Take here the sword, you trusted in my hands,

Which you alone could take.--Now, Veramond,

[_Presents his Sword to_ ALPHONSO.

Dispose of old Ramirez as thou pleasest:

[_He presents it sullenly to_ VERAMOND, _who puts it into the Hand

of an Officer_.

Secure thy hate, ambition, and thy fear,

And give Ramirez death, who scorns a life

Which he must owe to thee.

_Vera._ [_To the Guards._] Go, bear him to the castle; at more leisure

His doom shall be decreed.

_Ram._ Whene'er it comes, 'tis welcome; only this,--

(If enemies be suffered to request)

Forgive the imprudent zeal thy son has shown

On my behalf, and take him to thy bosom;

A noble temper shines even through his faults,

And gilds them into virtues.

_Vera._ Take him hence.

[RAMIREZ _is led off by_ SANCHO _and_ CARLOS, _and followed by the

Guards_; ALPHONSO _looking frowningly. The rest stay._

_Alph._ [_Aside._] How I abhor this base inhuman act!

But patience! he's my father.

_Vera._ Thus all his praises are thy accusations;

And even that very sword,--

Punish me, heaven, if I believe not so!--

Is far less dangerous in his hand than thine.

_Xim._ Forgive the hasty sallies of his youth.

_Vera._ He never loved me.

_Alph._ You never gave me cause.

_Xim._ [_To_ ALPH.] Come, you both loved,

But both were jealous of each other's kindness.

His silence shows, he longs to pardon you.--

And did not you, my lord, observe Alphonso,

[_Turning to_ VERAM.

How, though at first he could not rule his passion,--

Not at the very first, for that's impossible

To hasty blood, like his, and yours, my lord,--

Yet in the second moment, he repented,

As soon as thought had leisure to be born?

_Vera._ For aught I see, you do him better office

Than he desires, Ximena.

_Alph._ [_Kneeling._] Sir, your pardon;

And, if you please, your love.

_Vera._ Receive the first;

The last, as you deserve.

_Re-enter Don_ GARCIA, _with_ VICTORIA, CELIDEA, _and the Ladies_.

VERAMOND _sees them at a distance_.

_Vera._ This had not been thus easily o'erpast,

But that I see Don Garcia with your sisters.

A fair occasion offers you this hour

To cancel your offences; mark, and take it.

[_The King_, _Queen_, _and_ ALPHONSO _entertain_ GARCIA _in dumb

show, while_ VICTORIA _and_ CELIDEA _speak at a distance_.

_Cel._ What think you, sister, of this youthful hero?

_Vict._ Our dear Alphonso?

_Cel._ No, I mean Navarre.

_Vict._ As of a valiant prince; what would you more?

_Cel._ Methinks you give him a short commendation;

Yet all his applications were to you.

_Vict._ I minded not his words.

_Cel._ He made a warm beginning of a love.

_Vict._ It seems my thoughts were otherwise employed.

_Cel._ Neither your thoughts nor eyes could be employed

Upon a nobler object.

_Vict._ That's your judgment.

_Cel._ His every action, nay, his every motion.

Were graceful, and becoming his high birth.

_Vict._ All of a piece, and all like other men.

He seems to me a common kind of creature,

One that may pass among a crowd of courtiers,

And not be known for king.

_Cel._ Sure you forget the troops he brought our father,

Besides his personal valour in the fight.

_Vict._ You more forget Alphonso's greater actions,

When the young hero, yet unfledged in arms,

Made the tough age of bold Ramirez bend:

He fought, like Mars descending from the skies,

And looked, like Venus rising from the waves.

_Cel._ Navarre had done the same; 'twas fortune's fault,

That showed him not Ramirez.

_Vict._ You are too young to judge of men or merits;

You praise the vulgar flight a falcon makes,

When Jove's imperial bird, that bears the thunder,

Is towering far above him.

_Re-enter_ CARLOS, SANCHO, _and the rest of the Officers_.

_Vera._ Are my commands performed?

_Carl._ With all exactness.

_Vera._ Approach, Victoria, and you, Celidea,

That in your presence I may pay some part

Of what I owe your brave deliverer.

_Cel._ We cannot show too much of gratitude.

_Vera._ Victoria, what say you?

_Vict._ He did the duty of a brave ally:

I do not know the war, nor dare I load

His modesty with larger commendations.

_Gar._ Even those are much too large, when given by you,

To whom my soul, with all my future service,

Are with devotion offered.

_Vera._ I have indeed disclosed to her alone

The important secret of the intended match;

And that, perhaps, has made her fear to praise

A prince, who shortly is to be her own.

_Alph._ [_Aside._] Oh heavens! what bode these words?

[_The Queen and_ CELIDEA _shew amazement_, ALPHONSO _and_ VICTORIA

_discontent_.

_Vera._ Now therefore I declare the wished alliance.

Ximena, you may give your daughter joy;

And you your sister, of the imperial crown, [_To_ CEL.

Which Garcia put on our Victoria's head.--

Your share, Alphonso, in this happy day [_To_ ALPH.

Is not the least, nor will you be the last,

To applaud my worthy choice of such a son.

_Alph._ A sudden damp has seized my vital spirits;

I see but through a mist, and hear far off.--

Nay trouble not yourselves: a little time

Of needful rest, and solitary thought,

Will mend my health; till when, excuse my presence.

[_Exit_ ALPHONSO, _and looks back on_

VICTORIA.

_Xim._ [_Aside._] He's much disturbed,--a sickness of the soul;

Or I mistake, he does not like this marriage.--

Assist us, heaven, if I divine aright,

And prosper thy own work!

_Vera._ [_Aside._] I like not this,

But must dissemble, till I clear my doubts.--

Fortune, brave prince, has given us this allay; [_To_ GAR.

Our joys were else too full:

An hour of sleep will bring him back restored;

Mean time we may withdraw.

_Gar._ [_To_ VICT.] Come, my fair mistress, by your father's leave

I seize this precious gage.

_Vict._ Then thank my father;

He may dispose of all things but my heart,

And that's my own--[_Aside._] Alas! I wish it were.

[_Exeunt_ VER. XIM. CEL. GAR. VICT. _and all the Courtiers_, _Men

and Women. The Guards follow_: SAN. CARL. _remain_.

_San._ Good news; Carlos, the old Jew, is dead.

_Carl._ What Jew?

_San._ Why, the rich Jew, my father. He's gone to the bosom of Abraham

his father, and I, his Christian son, am left sole heir. Now do I

intend to be monstrously in love.

_Carl._ With whom, colonel?

_San._ That's not yet resolved, colonel; but with one of the court

ladies. You may stand a man's friend, Carlos, in such a business.

_Carl._ You may depend on me, Sancho, because my dependance is on you.

You got plunder in the battle; while I was hacked and hewed, and almost

laid asleep in the damned bed of honour.

_San._ Nay, I confess I am a lucky rogue, for I was born with a caul

upon my head.

_Carl._ I'm sure I came bare enough into the world, and live as barely

in it.

_San._ Make me but lustily in love, and I'll adopt thee into my

fortune; but thou standest--shall I, shall I, till all the ladies are

out of sight. Here, take that _billet-doux_, which I have pulled out

by chance from amongst twenty, that I always wear about me for such

occasions.

_Carl._ But to which of them shall I deliver it?

_San._ Even to her thou canst first overtake.--Nay, do not lose thy

time in looking on't, there's no particular direction, man. Fortune

ever superscribes my letters to the fair sex: I let her alone to

find me out a handsome mistress; and let me alone to make her kind

afterwards.

_Carl._ But suppose I should happen to deliver it to my own mistress,

for she was in the presence with her father.

_San._ Then I suppose thou wilt be the first that shall repent it; for

she will certainly fall in love with me.

LOPEZ _and_ DALINDA _re-enter, and walk softly over the Stage_.

Look, there's one of them already; my heart beats at the very sight of

her. This must and shall be she, by Cupid.

_Carl._ And, by Venus, the very she I love!

_San._ Pr'ythee no more words then, for fate will have it so.

_Carl._ [_Aside._] I know it's impossible for her father to receive

him, or her to love him; and yet his good fortune, and my rascally,

three-penny planet[56], make me suspicious without reason. But hang

superstition! I'll draw such a picture of him as shall do his business.

_San._ Now will I stand _incognito_, like some mighty potentate, and

see my own embassy delivered.

[CARLOS _overtakes_ LOPEZ _and_ DALINDA,

_just going off, and salutes them_.

_Lop._ Cousin Carlos, you are welcome from the wars; I

think I saw you in the show to day.

_Carl._ The ceremony hindered me from paying my respects; but I made

haste, you see----

_Lop._ I hope you'll no more be a stranger to my house, than you have

been formerly. Your mistress here will be proud to entertain you;

and then you shall tell me the whole expedition. I love battles

wonderfully, when a man may hear them without peril of his person.

_San._ [_Aside._] Nothing of my letter all this while!--why when

Carlos? [_Whispering aloud to him._

_Carl._ [_Aside._] Now I dare not but deliver it, because he sees

me.--Don Lopez, I have a foolish kind of petition to you. [_To_ LOP.

_Lop._ Why do you call it a foolish petition?

_Carl._ Because I bring it from a fool. There's a friend of mine, of a

plentiful fortune, that's desperately in love with your fair daughter,

Dalinda; and has commanded me, by your permission, to deliver this

letter to her.

_Lop._ A rich man's letter may be delivered.

[CARLOS _gives her the Letter_.

_Dal._ What's here? A note without a superscription [_She seems to

read._] As I live, a bill of exchange for two hundred pistoles, charged

upon a banker, and payable to the bearer! An accomplished cavalier I

warrant him; he writes finely, and in the best manner.

_Carl._ [_Aside._] There's the covetous sex, at the first syllable!

The fool's good planet begins to work already; but I shall stop its

influence.

_Lop._ Good cousin colonel, what manner of man is my son-in-law that

may be?

_Carl._ D'ye see that sneaking fellow yonder?

_Lop._ Who, that gallant cavalier?

_Dal._ I wish it were no worse.

_Carl._ Plague, ye make me mad betwixt ye. His outside's tawdry, and

his inside's fool. He's an usurer's son, and his father was a Jew.

_Dal._ No matter for all that, he's rich.

_Carl._ He was begot upon the wife of a desperate debtor, out of pure

good husbandry, to save something. He's covetous by the father's side,

a blockhead by the mother's, and a knave by both.

_Lop._ I see nothing like your description of him, at this distance.

Call him hither, I would fain speak with him.

_Carl._ Come hither, Don Sancho, and make good the character I have

given of you.

[SANCHO _comes up, and salutes them awkwardly_.

_Lop._ Cavalier, I shall be glad to be better known to you.

_San._ [_To_ CARL.] You see I have luck in a bag, Carlos.

_Carl._ [_Aside._] Ay, in a bag of money; I see it to my sorrow.--Try

his wit, signior, you'll find it as heavy as lead. [_Aside to_ LOPEZ.

_Lop._ [_To_ SANCHO.] So his money be silver, I care not.--Come,

cavalier, what say you to my daughter?

_San._ Why, I say, I was resolved to love the first fair lady that I

met.

_Dal._ Oh lord, sir!

_Carl._ [_To_ LOP.] Do but mark his breeding.

_Lop._ I like him never the worse for his plain dealing.

_Dal._ Bluntness, methinks, becomes a soldier.

_Carl._ [_Aside._] How naturally old men take to riches, and women to

fools!

_Lop._ [_To_ SAN.] You have made a noble declaration of your love, sir,

with a handsome present of two hundred pistoles.

_San._ What, I hope I have not mistaken papers, and sent you my letter

of exchange for two hundred pistoles, charged upon the banker Porto

Carrero? Pray return that letter, madam, and I'll look out for another,

that shall treat only of dry love, without those terrible appendixes.

_Dal._ Why, did not you intend this for me, cavalier?

_San._ No; you shall hear me rap out all the oaths in Christendom,

that I am wholly innocent of this accusation.

_Dal._ Come, you bely your noble nature. Look upon me again, cavalier,

[_She makes the doux yeux to him._] and then examine your own heart, if

you meant it not to me.

_San._ Nay, I confess my heart beats a charge towards you;--and yet two

hundred pistoles is a swinging sum for one kind look, Carlos!

_Carl._ A damnable hard penny-worth! hold you there, Don Sancho.

[DALINDA _looks upon him again more sweetly_.

_San._ She has two devils in her eyes; that last ogle was a

lick-penny.--Well, madam, I dedicate those fair two hundred pistoles to

your more fair hand; and, now you have received them, I meant them for

you.

_Dal._ And, in requital, I receive you for my servant, cavalier.

_Carl._ [_Aside._] Damn him for his awkward liberality; he's always

covetous, but when 'tis to do me a mischief.

_Lop._ [_To_ DAL.] He's come on again; my heart was almost at my

mouth.--Now, Mrs Minion, let me take you to task in private. [_Draws

her aside a little._] What hope have you of the Conde Don Alonzo de

Cardona?

_Dal._ Little or none; a bare possibility. You know what has passed

betwixt us.

_Lop._ But suppose he should renew his love, had you rather marry that

rich old Conde, or this poor young rogue, Don Carlos?

_Dal._ This poor young rogue, if you please, father.

_Lop._ I thought as much, good madam. But, to come closer to the

present business, betwixt Don Carlos and Don Sancho, that is to say,

a poor young wit, and a rich young fool; put the case, gentlewoman,

which of them would you chuse?

_Dal._ If it were not for mere necessity, I have a kind of a loathing

to a fool.

_Lop._ The more fool you, madam.

_Dal._ Would you have a race of booby grandsons?

_Lop._ That's as your conscience serves you. I say only, that your

husband shall be a fool; I say not, your children's father shall be one.

_San._ [_To_ CAR.] This is a plaguy long whisper, I do not like it. And

yet, now I think on't, my left eye itches, some good luck is coming

towards me.

_Lop._ [_To them._] I'll be short and pithy with you. Don Sancho,--I

think they call ye,--if out of my abundant love I should bestow my

dutiful daughter on you, what kind of husband would you make?

_San._ Husband, sennor? Why, none at all. None of my predecessors were

ever married; my father and my mother never were, and I will not be

the first of my family that shall degenerate. I thought my two hundred

pistoles would have done my business with Dalinda, and a little winking

money with you.

_Lop._ What, would you make me a pimp to my own daughter?

_Dal._ And imagine my chastity could be corrupted with a petty bribe?

_San._ Nay, I am not so obstinate neither against marriage. Carlos gave

me this wicked counsel, on purpose to banish me; and, in revenge to

him, I will marry.

_Lop._ I hope you'll ask her leave first?

_San._ Pho! I take that for granted; no woman has the power to resist

my courtship.

_Lop._ Suppose then, as before supposed; what kind of husband would you

make?

_San._ Then, to deal roundly with you, I would run a rambling myself,

and leave the drudgery of my house to her management; all things should

go at sixes and sevens for Sancho. In short, sennor, I will be as

absolute as the Great Turk, and take as little care of my people as a

heathen god.

_Lop._ Now, Don Carlos, what say you?

_Carl._ [_Aside._] I'll fit them for a husband.--[_To_ LOP.] Why,

sennor, I would be the most careful creature of her business; I would

inspect every thing, would manage the whole estate, to save her the

trouble; I would be careful of her health, by keeping her within doors;

she should neither give nor receive visits; nor kneel at church among

the fops, that look one way, and pray another.

_Dal._ Oh abominable!

_Lop._ Why, thou ungrateful fellow! wouldst thou make a slave of my

daughter? And leave her no business, that is to say, no authority in

her own house?

_Dal._ Ay, and to call fine young gentlemen fops too? To lock me

up from visitants, which are the only comfort of a disconsolate,

miserable, married woman!

_Lop._ An' 'twere not for fear thou shouldst beat me, I could find in

my heart to beat thee.--Don Sancho, I have an olla at home, and you

shall be welcome to it.--Farewell, kinsman. [_To_ CARL.

[_Exeunt_ LOP. _and_ SAN. _leading out_ DAL.

_Carl._ Now, if I had another head, I could find in my heart to run

this head against that wall. Nature has given me my portion in sense,

with a pox to her, and turned me out into the wide world to starve upon

it. She has given Sancho an empty noddle; but fortune, in revenge,

has filled his pockets: just a lord's estate in land and wit. Well,

I have lost Dalinda; and something must be done to undermine Sancho

in her good opinion. Some pernicious counsel must be given him. He

is my prince, and I am his statesman; and when our two interests come

to clash, I hope to make a mere monarch of him[57]: and my hunger is

somewhat in my way to quicken my invention.

Wants whets the wit, 'tis true; but wit, not blest

With fortune's aid, makes beggars at the best.

Wit is not fed, but sharpened with applause;

For wealth is solid food, and wit but hungry sauce. [_Exit._

ACT II.

SCENE I.--_A Bed-Chamber; a Couch prepared, and set so near the

Pit that the Audience may hear._

ALPHONSO _enters with a Book in his Hand, and sits; reads to

himself a little while. Enter_ VICTORIA, _and sits by him, then

speaks._

_Vict._ If on your private business I intrude,

Forgive the excess of love, that makes me rude.

I hope your sickness has not reached your heart,

But come to bear a suffering sister's part;

Yet, lest I should offend you by my stay,

Command me to depart, and I obey.

_Alph._ The patient, who has passed a sleepless night,

Is far less pleased with his physician's sight.

Welcome, thou pleasing, but thou short reprieve,

To ease my death, but not to make me live.

Welcome, but welcome as a winter's sun,

That rises late, and is too quickly gone.

_Vict._ You are the star of day, the public light; }

And I am but your sister of the night; }

Eclipsed, when you are absent from my sight. }

_Alph._ Death will for ever take me from your eyes;

But grieve not you, for, when I set, you rise:

Don Garcia has deserved to be your choice, }

And 'tis a brother's duty to rejoice. }

}

_Vict._ And yet, methought, you gave him not your voice. }

_Alph._ You saw a sudden sickness left me weak;

I had no joy to give, nor tongue to speak:

And therefore I withdrew, to seek relief

In books, the fruitless remedies of grief.

_Vict._ But tell me what philosopher you found,

To cure your pain?

_Alph._ The fittest for my wound,

Who best the gentle passions knows to move;

Ovid, the soft philosopher of love.

His Love Epistles for my friends I chose;

For there I found the kindred of my woes.

_Vict._ His nymphs the vows of perjured men deplore;

One in the woods, and one upon the shore:

All are at length forsaken or betrayed;

And the false hero leaves the faithful maid.

_Alph._ Not all; for, Linus kept his constancy;

And one, perhaps, who more resembled me.

_Vict._ That letter would I view; in hope to find

Some features of the fair that rules your mind.

_Alph._ Read, for the guilty page is doubled down;

The love too soon will make the lover known.

[_Giving her the Book._

Read, if you dare; and, when the crime you see,

Accuse my cruel fate, but pity me.

Vict. [_Aside._] 'Tis what I feared, the unhappy Canace!--

Read you; for, to a brother 'twas designed, [_To him._

And sent him by a sister much too kind.

[ALPHONSO takes the Book, and reads.

_Why did thy flames beyond a brother's move?

Why loved I thee with more than sister's love?_

[He looks upon her, and she holds down her head. He reads again.

_My cheeks no longer did their colour boast;

My food grew loathsome, and my strength I lost;

Still, ere I spoke, a sigh would stop my tongue;

Short were my slumbers, and my nights were long.

I knew not from my love those griefs did grow,

Yet was, alas! the thing I did not know._

[She looks on him, and he holds down his Head.

_Forced at the last, my shameful pain I tell._

_Vict._ No more; we know our mutual love too well.

[_Both look up, and meet each other's Eyes._

_Alph._ Two lines in reading had escaped my sight;

Shall I go back, and do the poet right?

_Vict._ Already we have read too far, I fear;

But read no more than modesty may bear.

ALPHONSO READING.

_For I loved too, and, knowing not my wound,

A secret pleasure in thy kisses found._

[He offers to kiss her, and she turns her head away.

May we not represent the kiss we read?

_Vict._ Alphonso, no:--brother, I should have said!

ALPHONSO READING AGAIN.

_When half denying, more than half content,

Embraces warmed me to a full consent;

Then, with tumultuous joys my heart did beat,

And guilt, that made them anxious, made them great._

[She snatches the Book, and throws it down, then rises and walks;

he rises also.

_Vict._ Incendiary book, polluted flame,

Dare not to tempt the chaste Victoria's fame!

I love, perhaps, more than a sister should;

And nature prompts, but heaven restrains my blood.

Heaven was unkind, to set so strict a bound.

And love would struggle to forbidden ground.

Oh let us gain a Parthian victory!

Our only way to conquer, is to fly.

_Alph._ No more, Victoria; though my love aspires

More high than yours, and fiercer are my fires,

I cannot bear your looks; new flames arise

From every glance, and kindle from your eyes.

Pure are the beams which from those suns you dart;

But gather blackness from my sooty heart.

Then let us each with hasty steps remove;

Nor spread contagion, where we meant but love.

_Vict._ Hear, heaven and earth, and witness to my vows;

And Love, thou greatest power that nature knows!

This heart, Alphonso, shall be firmly thine;

This hand shall never with another join:

Or if, by force, my father makes me wed,

Then Death shall be the bridegroom of my bed.

Now let us both our shares of sorrow take;

And both be wretched for each other's sake.

_Alph._ By those relentless powers that rule the skies,

And by a greater power, Victoria's eyes,

No love but yours shall touch Alphonso's heart;

Nor time, nor death, my vowed affections part:

Nor shall my hated rival live to see

That hour which envious fate denies to me.

Now seal we both our vows with one dear kiss.

_Vict._ No; 'tis a hot, and an incestuous bliss!

Let both be satisfied with what we swore;

I dare not give it, lest I give you more.

[_Exit_ VICTORIA,

_looking back on him, and he gazing on her_.

_Alph._ Oh raging, impious, and yet hopeless fire!

Not daring to possess what I desire;

Condemned to suffer what I cannot bear;

Tortured with love, and furious with despair.

Of all the pains which wretched mortals prove,

The fewest remedies belong to love:

But ours has none; for, if we should enjoy,

Our fatal cure must both of us destroy.

Oh dear Victoria! cause of all my pain;

Oh dear Victoria! whom I would not gain;

Victoria, for whose sake I would survive!

Victoria, for whose sake I dare not live!

_Enter_ GARCIA _with Attendants. The two Princes salute_, _but_ ALPHONSO

_very coldly_.

_Gar._ I come to show my grief for your distemper;

For, if my noble brother saw my heart,

There should you find a plain, a holy friendship,

Unmixt with interest, equally partaking

Of what affects you, both of good and ill.

_Alph._ I thank you; but my malady increases

At your approach. I have no more to say;

But wish you better health than I can boast,

And to myself a lonely privacy.

_Gar._ I find I am not welcome to your sight;

But know not from what cause.

Alph. [_Angrily._] My surest remedy is in your absence.

'Tis hard my lodgings cannot be my own,

But importuned with visits undesired;

And therefore, I must tell you, troublesome.

_Gar._ 'Tis an odd way of entertaining friends;

But, since I find you discomposed with sickness,

That shall excuse your humours; where I go,

I hope for better welcome.

_Alph._ Sir, I must ask, whom you pretend to visit?

_Gar._ My mistress, prince.

_Alph._ Your mistress! who's that mistress?

_Gar._ What need I name Victoria?

_Alph._ Who? my sister!

_Gar._ Whom else could you imagine?

_Alph._ Any other.

_Gar._ And why not her?

_Alph._ Because I know not if she will admit you.

_Gar._ Her father has allowed it.

_Alph._ But not she;

Or, if both have, yet my consent is wanting.

You take upon you in a foreign kingdom,

As if you were at home in your Navarre.

_Gar._ And you, methinks,

As if you had no father, or no king.

Farewell, I will not stay.

_Alph._ You shall not go:

Thus as I am, thus single, thus unarmed,

And you with guards attended--

_Gar._ You teach me to forget the rule of manners.

_Alph._ I mean to teach you better.

[_As_ GARCIA _is going to pass by him_, ALPHONSO _runs to one of

his Attendants, and snatches his Sword away, then steps between_

GARCIA _and the Door_.

_Enter_ VERAMOND _and_ XIMENA, _attended_.

_Vera._ What means this rude behaviour in my court?

As if our Arragon were turned to Thrace,

Unhospitable to her guests, and thou,

Alphonso, a Lycurgus.

_Alph._ He would pass,

Without my sister's leave, into her lodgings.

By heaven, if this be suffered to proceed,

The next will be to treat the royal maid

As coarsely, as she were some suburb girl.

_Gar._ [_To Vera._] Had I not your permission, sir?

_Vera._ You had.

But these, Alphonso, are thy ruffian manners.

How dar'st thou, boy, to break my orders,

And then asperse thy sister with thy crime?

_Alph._ She said his presence was unpleasing to her.

_Vera._ Come, thou beliest her innocence and duty:

She did not, durst not say it.

_Alph._ If she did not,

I dare, and will maintain to all the world,

That Garcia is not worthy of my sister.

_Vera._ Not worthy!

_Alph._ No; I say once more, not worthy.

_Gar._ Not in myself; for who deserves Victoria?

But, since her royal father bids me hope,

Not less unworthy than another prince:--

And none, with your permission, sir, shall dare [_To_ VER.

To interpose betwixt my love and me.

_Alph._ Sure a less price, than our infanta's bed,

Might pay thee for thy mercenary troops.

_Vera._ Peace, insolent; too long I have endured

Thy haughty soul, untamed and turbulent:

But, if I live, this shall not pass unpunished;

Darkness and chains are medicines for a madman.

_Xim._ My lord, I humbly beg you, spare your son;

And add not fury to a raging fire.

He soon will recollect his scattered reason,

Which heat of youth, and sickness and fatigues,

Have dissipated in his boiling blood.

Give him but time, and then his temperate humour

Will soon return into the native channel,

And, unopposed, be calm.

_Vera._ No; never more.

The moon has rolled above his head, and turned it;

As peals of thunder sour the generous wine.--

Hence from my presence, thou no more my son! [_To_ ALPH.

_Xim._ If he be mad, be madness his excuse;

And pardon nature's error, not his own.

_Vera._ Ximena, you have fondled him to this:

I prophesied; and now 'tis come to pass.

_Gar._ Perhaps I interrupted him too rudely;

And, since I caused myself that ill reception,

Forgive our mutual faults.

_Vera._ You shall prevail;

Though he deserves not such an intercessor.--

[_To_ ALPH.] Retire, Alphonso, to your inmost lodgings,

And there inclose yourself, and mourn your crimes.

Be this your last relapse; the next is fatal.

_Alph._ I will retire:

But, if I am a madman, as you say,

And as I half believe, expect no cure

But in Alphonso's death. [ALPHONSO _goes in_.

Xim. [_Aside._] It works apace;

But whither it will tend, heaven only knows.

[VERA. _sees the Book upon the Ground,

and takes it up_.

_Vera._ This book he left; go bear it after him.--

Yet stay; I know not why, but somewhat prompts me

To read this folded page.--

[_To_ GARCIA.] Go, royal youth:

I would myself conduct you to Victoria,

But lovers need no guide to their desires;

And love no witness, but himself, requires.

[_Exeunt the King and Queen one Way, with their Attendants; and_

DON GARCIA _with his, another_.

SCENE II.--_A Street._

_Enter_ CARLOS _before_ DON LOPEZ'S _Door_.

_Carl._ That is the door of Lopez, and Sancho must come out this way.

Now, fool, sit fast, for thou shalt not want for pestilent advice: but

first, I must know how far thou hast proceeded with the father and the

daughter, that I may know what drugs I must prepare for the present

condition of my patient.--Oh, the door opens already, and he bolts out

single, as I wished.

_Enter_ SANCHO, _picking his Teeth_.

_San._ What, Carlos, you have dined before me; but, it may be, you have

not fared so well.

_Carl._ The best part of your entertainment, I suppose, was the desert

of the fair Dalinda after dinner; and how, and how go matters?

_San._ Better than thou wouldst have them; thou wouldst have put a

spoke in my wheel, I know it.

_Carl._ No; fortune always sets those of your admirable understanding

uppermost. But, remember, Dalinda was once mine, however.

_San._ Thou wouldst not have me give the box away, when I have thrown

seven? Come, set upon it what thou darest, and I'll give thee leave to

do thy worst.

_Carl._ You are very confident of your good luck.

_San._ Thou knowest I have a perpetual ascendant over thee.

_Carl._ And you are sure to carry her?

_San._ She is fond of my person; she ogled me all dinner-time; she put

her foot under the table, and trod upon mine; and if these are not

certain symptoms of passion, the devil's in womankind.

_Carl._ And her father?

_San._ The goodest old man! he drank my health to his daughter; and I,

to comply with my obligation, answered the challenge. There, I think, I

was with her again.

_Carl._ You have no more to do but to take out a licence.

_San._ Indeed, I have her licence for it.

_Carl._ What, quibbling too in your prosperity? If you let another,

I shall be enraged. But you have not told me that her father is

consenting.

_San._ In a manner; but--

_Carl._ But what? is he not absolutely yours?

_San._ There is a small demur upon the matter: in short, he hit me

in the teeth with a damnable rich old Conde; who, I find, has been

dabbling with this covetous old hunks; but, bating him, Don Lopez tells

me I shall be the welcomest man alive.

_Carl._ Do you know that Conde's name?

_San._ Don something de Cardona, whom the devil confound!

_Carl._ My old acquaintance; he charged with me in the battle, but what

became of him I know not. If he be the man, despair betimes, Sancho;

he'll revenge my quarrel, and carry her in spite of you.

_San._ I am cunning, you know; and I believe he named that cursed

Conde, only to draw me on the faster.

_Carl._ And do you think a gentleman can succeed against a Conde with a

woman?

_San._ Why not?

_Carl._ No more than a Conde against a duke, and so upwards;--abandon

her, I say.

_San._ No; I am resolute.

_Carl._ To be the shoeing-horn for the Conde?

_San._ I confess I would not be the shoeing-horn, to draw him on.

_Carl._ No, for that's to be a pimp for him.

_San._ Right; therefore I will leave her.

_Carl._ Then go back, and quarrel with her and her father; go, I say,

immediately, before your virtue cools.

_San._ I'll give them their own, I'll warrant them.

What, make a shoeing-horn of a man of honour? [_Exit_ SANCHO.

_Carl._ [_alone_] If the Conde be in love, then why should Lopez admit

of Sancho for a suitor? if not, the fool is in the right, that it was

only feigned, to draw him on. However, my advice will strike on both

sides; for, if Sancho quarrels, he's discarded; and for the Conde--stay

a little--what, if I should play this Conde? I know him, and can mimic

him exactly; 'tis but a jest if I am discovered; and if the Conde loves

her, and she him, then I marry her in his shape.--Oh, they are coming

out to quarrel in the open air, for the house is grown too hot for

them; but I dare not stay to see the battle, for fear of getting blows

on both sides. [_Exit_ CARLOS.

_Enter_ LOPEZ, DALINDA, _and_ SANCHO.

_Lop._ I'll wait upon you out of my house, however.

_San._ Father-in-law, that might have been, no more ceremonies; I'll be

no shoeing-horn for any man.

_Lop._ You would not be my daughter's hindrance?

_San._ There's no more to be said on't; but either a bargain, or no

bargain.

_Lop._ A bargain, if the Conde comes not on.

_San._ Then, as he comes on, I must go off, with a pox to you and to

your daughter!

_Dal._ At least it shall not be a pox of your giving.

_San._ The Conde's pox take you then! that's an honourable pox,

descended in a right line from Don Roderic the Goth, I'll warrant you.

_Lop._ Indeed, if your estate were as great as his--

_San._ Nay, for that matter, I can drop gold with him, as little as I

care for her.

_Dal._ But then his title?

_San._ I have more gold yet, to weigh down his parchment: and then my

wit against a Conde's wit; that's for overplus; for, though I say it--

_Lop._ Who should not say it--

_San._ Yet I do say it, and will say it, especially as lords go now.

Come, there's no more to be said, Lopez; but take back your trumpery, I

mean your daughter; or I'll send for the scavenger with a dung-cart.

_Lop._ This is insufferable; and by this honourable

beard--

_San._ Which I'll pull off by handfuls, if you swagger--

Lop. [_Aside, to_ DAL.] What shall we do with this madman, daughter?

_Dal._ You should send for an alguazil to order him, if I were sure

that the Conde would come on again; but, since that's uncertain, go

in, father, and let me alone with him: if I make him your son-in-law,

that's punishment sufficient for him.

_Lop._ Well, cavalier, you may chance to hear of me. [_Exit_ LOPEZ.

_San._ Yes, and of your daughter too, in the next lampoon, I doubt

not.--[_To_ DALINDA.] Why don't you follow him? What do you and I

together, madam countess?

_Dal._ Nay, I know not.

_San._ Nor I neither.

_Dal._ I hope you will not beat me.

[_She looks languishingly upon him._

_San._ I can't tell that; thou hast a damnable kind of leer, that would

provoke me to somewhat--I say not what.

_Dal._ Beat me with my own hand, if I deserve it; there 'tis for you.

[_Gives him her hand, and squeezes his._

_San._ If I should beat thee now, as thou hast deserved richly, I could

make thee satisfaction.

_Dal._ Indeed they say an old man should never beat a young woman,

because he cannot make her satisfaction.

_San._ Abominable chuck! if I did not hate thee mortally, I could be

content to love thee for a quarter of an hour or so.--Why, what's here

to do? you are at your old tricks again. Pr'ythee, sweet devil, do not

ogle me, nor squeeze my palm so feelingly; thou dear infernal, do not.

_Dal._ Why, do I hurt you?

_San._ No, but thou ticklest me to the very heart-strings, most

wickedly.

_Dal._ You command me then to leave you?

[_Seems to be going._

_San._ Not command you neither, not absolutely.

_Dal._ I go then--

_San._ Then I do command thee. I mean to stay a little longer. Thou

hast fired my blood most horribly with that squeezing: hast not thou

the itch? speak, damnation! I think I have got the infection of thee.

[_He shakes his hands._

_Dal._ I'll go and comfort my old father for the affronts you gave him.

_San._ No, perverseness; I'll make thee stay: in very spite of thy

proud sex, I'll humble thee.

_Dal._ But was not you a grievous man to use him so? you shall tell me,

or I break your fingers.

_San._ Not a word, to save thee from perdition; I am as dumb as a

heathen oracle.

_Dal._ Then I must squeeze it out of you.

[_Pressing his hand again._

_San._ Ah, ha! it runs through me like wild-fire.

[_Panting._

_Dal._ Did not Carlos give you this naughty counsel?

_San._ I should not answer thee, I know it. Hartlykins! this is just

cramping a man when he's asleep, to make him tell his dream. Let go my

hand, and Carlos did not advise me; but hold it, and he did:--now, will

you be at quiet with me?

_Dal._ Not till you promise me to be friends with my father.

_San._ Well, confound thee, I am friends with him.

_Dal._ And to banish Carlos for an evil counsellor.

_San._ Upon condition you'll discharge the count from seeing you.

_Dal._ No conditions: either surrender upon discretion, or I'll put you

to the sword.

_San._ Pox on thee for being so tyrannical; but I can't help myself,

and therefore I totally submit.

_Dal._ Now, then, you shall perceive how gracious a princess I intend

to be. My father doats upon this count, but I despise him.

_San._ That's a good girl; for love of me, I'll warrant you.

_Dal._ You think I coax you now.

_San._ No, I know my own merit too well for that.

_Dal._ Then do what I advise you. My father has not often seen this

count; what if you should pass for him?

_San._ Hum! I do not apprehend thee.

_Dal._ A man of your wit, and be so stupid! you shall counterfeit the

count.

_San._ Counterfeit the count! that's a pure quibble; but I can make no

_Gar._ May heaven and your brave son, and, above all,