Julian.

The roots of royalty.

Roderigo.

Thou hast torn away

For her, for thee.
Julian. Blind insolence! base insincerity!
Power and renown no mortal ever shared
Who could retain or grasp them to himself:
And, for Covilla? patience! peace! for her?
She call upon her God, and outrage him
At his own altar! she repeat the vows
She violates in repeating! who abhors

Thee and thy crimes, and wants no crown of thine.
Force may compel the abhorrent soul, or want
Lash and pursue it to the public ways;

Virtue looks back and weeps, and may return

To these, but never near the abandon'd one
Who drags religion to adultery's feet,

And rears the altar higher for her sake.

Roderigo. Have then the Saracens possest thee quite? And wilt thou never yield me thy consent?

Julian. Never.

Roderigo. So deep in guilt, in treachery! Forced to acknowledge it! forced to avow The traitor!

Julian. Not to thee, who reignest not,
But to a country ever dear to me,

And dearer now than ever! What we love
Is loveliest in departure! One I thought,

As every father thinks, the best of all,

Graceful and mild and sensible and chaste :
Now all these qualities of form and soul
Fade from before me, nor on any one
Can I repose, or be consoled by any.
And yet in this torn heart I love her more
Than I could love her when I dwelt on each,
Or claspt them all united, and thankt God,
Without a wish beyond. Away, thou fiend!
O ignominy, last and worst of all!

I

weep before thee like a child. . like mine And tell my woes, fount of them all! to thee!

FIRST ACT: FOURTH SCENE.

ABDALAZIS enters.

Abdalazis. Julian, to thee, the terror of the faithless,

I bring my father's order to prepare

For the bright day that crowns thy brave exploits.

Our enemy is at the very gate,

And art thou here, with v
-women in thy train,

Crouching to gain admittance to their lord,

And mourning the unkindness of delay!

Julian (agitated, goes toward the door, and returns). I am prepared: Prince, judge not hastily.

Abdalazis. Whether I should not promise all they ask,

I too could hesitate, though earlier taught

The duty to obey, and should rejoice

To shelter in the universal storm
A frame so delicate, so full of fears,

So little used to outrage and to arms,
As one of these, so humble, so uncheer'd

At the gay pomp that smooths the track of war.
When she beheld me from afar dismount,
And heard my trumpet, she alone drew back,
And, as though doubtful of the help she seeks,
Shudder'd to see the jewels on my brow,
And turn'd her eyes away, and wept aloud.
The other stood awhile, and then advanced :

I would have spoken; but she waved her hand
And said, "Proceed, protect us, and avenge,
And be thou worthier of the crown thou wearest."
Hopeful and happy is indeed our cause,
When the most timid of the lovely hail
Stranger and foe.

10

20

Roderigo (unnoticed by Abdalazis). And shrink but to advance.

Abdalazis. Thou tremblest? whence, O Julian! whence

this change?

30

Thou lovest still thy country.

Abdalazis !

Julian.
All men with human feelings love their country.
Not the highborn or wealthy man alone,
Who looks upon his children, each one led
By its gay handmaid from the high alcove,
And hears them once a-day; not only he
Who hath forgotten, when his guest inquires
The name of some far village all his own;
Whose rivers bound the province, and whose hills
Touch the last cloud upon the level sky:
No; better men still better love their country.
'Tis the old mansion of their earliest friends,
The chapel of their first and best devotions.
When violence or perfidy invades,

Or when unworthy lords hold wassail there,
And wiser heads are drooping round its moats,
At last they fix their steady and stiff eye

There, there alone, stand while the trumpet blows

And view the hostile flames above its towers

Spire, with a bitter and severe delight.

40

50

Abdalazis (taking his hand). Thou feelest what thou speakest, and thy Spain

Will ne'er be shelter'd from her fate by thee.
We, whom the Prophet sends o'er many lands,
Love none above another; Heaven assigns
Their fields and harvests to our valiant swords,
And 'tis enough: we love while we enjoy.
Whence is the man in that fantastic guise?
Suppliant? or herald? he who stalks about,
And once was even seated while we spoke :
For never came he with us o'er the sea.
Julian. He comes as herald.
Roderigo.

Insulting Moor!

Thou shalt know full soon,

Abdalazis. He ill endures the grief
His country suffers: I will pardon him.

He lost his courage first, and then his mind;
His courage rushes back, his mind yet wanders.

60

The guest of heaven was piteous to these men,
And princes stoop to feed them in their courts.

70

FIRST ACT: FIFTH SCENE.

RODERIGO is going: Muza enters with EGILONA:
RODERIGO starts back.

Muza (sternly to EGILONA). Enter, since 'tis the custom

in this land.

Egilona (passing Muza, points to ABDALAZIS). Is this our future monarch, or art thou?

Julian. "Tis Abdalazis, son of Muza, prince
Commanding Africa, from Abyla

To where Tunisian pilots bend the eye
O'er ruin'd temples in the glassy wave.
Till quiet times and ancient laws return
He comes to govern here.
Roderigo.

Proves that.

To-morrow's dawn

Muza. What art thou?

Roderigo (drawing his sword). King.

Abdalazis.

Muza.

Amazement !

Treason!

Egilona.

Spare him! fly to me!

Julian. Urge me not to protect a guest, a herald,

The blasts of war roar over him unfelt.

Egilona. Ah fly, unhappy!

Roderigo.

Fly! no, Egilona!

Dost thou forgive me? dost thou love me? still?

Egilona. I hate, abominate, abhor thee

Or my own vengeance

go,

20

RODERIGO (takes JULIAN's hand; invites him to attack Muza

and ABDALAZIS.) Julian!

Julian.

Hence, or die.

SECOND ACT: FIRST SCENE.

Camp of JULIAN.

JULIAN and COVILLA.

appear.

Julian. Obdurate? I am not as I
Weep, my beloved child! Covilla, weep
Into my bosom; every drop be mine
Of this most bitter soul-empoisoning cup:
Into no other bosom than thy father's
Canst thou or wouldst thou pour it.
Cease, my lord,
My father, angel of my youth, when all
Was innocence and peace.

Covilla.

Julian.

Look up

Arise, my love,

to heaven . . where else are souls like thine! Mingle in sweet communion with its children, Trust in its providence, its retribution,

And I will cease to mourn; for, O my child,

These tears corrode, but thine assuage, the heart.
Covilla. And never shall I see my
mother too,
My own, my blessed mother?

Julian.

Her and thy brothers.

Covilla.

Thou shalt see

ΙΟ

On them, I can not meet their lovely eyes,

I can not lift mine up from under theirs.

We all were children when they went away;

They now have fought hard battles, and are men,

And camps and kings they know, and woes and crimes.
Sir, will they never venture from the walls

Into the plain? Remember, they are young,

Hardy and emulous and hazardous,

And who is left to guard them in the town?

Julian. Peace is throughout the land: the various tribes 30

Of that vast region sink at once to rest,