Count Julian Part 9

SIS. How terrible! how true! what voice like thine Can rouse and warn the nation! if she rise, Say, whither go, where stop we?

OPAS. G.o.d will guide.

Let us pursue the oppressor to destruction; The rest is heaven's: must we move no step Because we cannot see the boundaries Of our long way, and every stone between?

SIS. Is not thy vengeance for the late affront, For threats and outrage and imprisonment -

OPAS. For outrage, yes--imprisonment and threats I pardon him, and whatsoever ill He could do ME.

SIS. To hold Covilla from me!

To urge her into vows against her faith, Against her beauty, youth, and inclination, Without her mother's blessing, nay without Her father's knowledge and authority - So that she never will behold me more, Flying afar for refuge and for help Where never friend but G.o.d will comfort her -

OPAS. These, and more barbarous deeds were perpetrated.

SIS. Yet her proud father deigned not to inform Me, whom he loved and taught, in peace and war, Me, whom he called his son, before I hoped To merit it by marriage or by arms.

He offered no excuse, no plea; expressed No sorrow; but with firm unfaltering voice Commanded me--I trembled as he spoke - To follow where he led, redress his wrongs, And vindicate the honour of his child.

He called on G.o.d, the witness of his cause, On Spain, the partner of his victories, And yet amid these animating words Rolled the huge tear down his unvisored face - A general swell of indignation rose Through the long line, sobs burst from every breast, Hardly one voice succeeded--you might hear The impatient hoof strike the soft sandy plain: But when the gates flew open, and the king In his high car came forth triumphantly, Then was Count Julian's stature more elate; Tremendous was the smile that smote the eyes Of all he pa.s.sed. "Fathers, sons, and brothers,"

He cried, "I fight your battles, follow me!

Soldiers, we know no danger but disgrace!"

"Father, and general, and king," they shout, And would proclaim him: back he cast his face, Pallid with grief, and one loud groan burst forth; It kindled vengeance through the Asturian ranks, And they soon scattered, as the blasts of heaven Scatter the leaves and dust, the astonished foe.

OPAS. And doubtest thou his truth?

SIS. I love--and doubt - Fight--and believe: Roderigo spoke untruths - In him I place no trust; but Julian holds Truths in reserve--how should I quite confide!

OPAS. By sorrows thou beholdest him oppressed; Doubt the more prosperous: march, Sisabert, Once more against his enemy and ours: Much hath been done, but much there still remains.

FOURTH ACT.--FIRST SCENE.

Tent of JULIAN.

RODERIGO and JULIAN.

JUL. To stop perhaps at any wickedness Appears a merit now, and at the time Prudence and policy it often is Which afterward seems magnanimity.

The people had deserted thee, and thronged My standard, had I raised it, at the first; But once subsiding, and no voice of mine Calling by name each grievance to each man, They, silent and submissive by degrees, Bore thy hard yoke, and, hadst thou but oppressed, Would still have borne it: thou hast now deceived; Thou hast done all a foreign foe could do, And more, against them; with ingrat.i.tude Not h.e.l.l itself could arm the foreign foe: 'Tis forged at home, and kills not from afar.

Amid whate'er vain glories fell upon Thy rainbow span of power, which I dissolve, Boast not how thou conferredst wealth and rank, How thou preservedst me, my family, All my distinctions, all my offices, When Witiza was murdered, that I stand Count Julian at this hour by special grace.

The sword of Julian saved the walls of Ceuta, And not the shadow that attends his name: It was no badge, no t.i.tle, that o'erthrew Soldier, and steed, and engine--Don Roderigo, The truly and the falsely great here differ: These by dull wealth or daring fraud advance; Him the Almighty calls amid his people To sway the wills and pa.s.sions of mankind.

The weak of heart and intellect beheld Thy splendour, and adored thee lord of Spain: I rose--Roderigo lords o'er Spain no more.

ROD. Now to a traitor's add a boaster's name.

JUL. Shameless and arrogant, dost thou believe I boast for pride or pastime? forced to boast, Truth costs me more than falsehood e'er cost thee.

Divested of that purple of the soul, That potency, that palm of wise ambition, Cast headlong by thy madness from that height, That only eminence 'twixt earth and heaven, Virtue, which some desert, but none despise, Whether thou art beheld again on earth, Whether a captive or a fugitive, Miner or galley-slave, depends on me: But he alone who made me what I am Can make me greater, or can make me less.

ROD. Chance, and chance only, threw me in thy power; Give me my sword again and try my strength.

JUL. I tried it in the front of thousands.

ROD. Death At least vouchsafe me from a soldier's hand.

JUL. I love to hear thee ask for it--now my own Would not be bitter; no, nor immature.

ROD. Defy it, say thou rather.

JUL. Death itself Shall not be granted thee, unless from G.o.d; A dole from his and from no other hand.

Thou shalt now hear and own thine infamy -

ROD. Chains, dungeons, tortures--but I hear no more.

JUL. Silence, thou wretch, live on--ay, live--abhorred.

Thou shalt have tortures, dungeons, chains, enough - They naturally rise and grow around Monsters like thee, everywhere, and for ever.

ROD. Insulter of the fallen! must I endure Commands as well as threats? my va.s.sal's too?

Nor breathe from underneath his trampling feet?

JUL. Could I speak patiently who speak to thee, I would say more--part of thy punishment It should be to be taught.

ROD. Reserve thy wisdom Until thy patience come, its best ally: I learn no lore, of peace or war, from thee.

JUL. No, thou shalt study soon another tongue, And suns more ardent shall mature thy mind.

Either the cross thou bearest, and thy knees Among the silent caves of Palestine Wear the sharp flints away with midnight prayer; Or thou shalt keep the fasts of Barbary, Shalt wait amid the crowds that throng the well From sultry noon till the skies fade again, To draw up water and to bring it home In the cracked gourd of some vile testy knave, Who spurns thee back with bastinadoed foot For ignorance or delay of his command.

ROD. Rather the poison or the bowstring.

JUL. Slaves To other's pa.s.sions die such deaths as those: Slaves to their own should die -

ROD. What worse?

JUL. Their own.

ROD. Is this thy counsel, renegade?

JUL. Not mine; I point a better path, nay, force thee on.

I shelter thee from every brave man's sword While I am near thee: I bestow on thee Life: if thou die, 'tis when thou sojournest Protected by this arm and voice no more; 'Tis slavishly, 'tis ignominiously, 'Tis by a villain's knife.

ROD. By whose?

JUL. Roderigo's.

ROD. O powers of vengeance! must I hear? endure?

Live?

JUL. Call thy va.s.sals? no! then wipe the drops Of froward childhood from thy shameless eyes.

So! thou canst weep for pa.s.sion--not for pity.

ROD. One hour ago I ruled all Spain! a camp Not larger than a sheepfold stood alone Against me: now, no friend throughout the world Behold the turns of fortune, and expect Follows my steps or hearkens to my call.

No better; of all faithless men, the Moors Are the most faithless: from thy own experience Thou canst not value nor rely on them.