Count Julian | Page 7

been blameless: I had died with glory Upon the walls of Ceuta.
ROD. Which thy treason Surrendered to the Infidel.
JUL. 'Tis hard And base to live beneath a conqueror: Yet, amid all this grief and infamy, 'Twere something to have rushed upon the ranks In their advance; 'twere something to have stood Defeat, discomfiture; and, when around No beacon blazes, no far axle groans Through the wide plain, no sound of sustenance Or succour soothes the still-believing ear, To fight upon the last dismantled tower, And yield to valour, if we yield at all. But rather should my neck lie trampled down By every Saracen and Moor on earth, Than my own country see her laws o'erturned By those who should protect them: Sir, no prince Shall ruin Spain; and, least of all, her own. Is any just or glorious act in view, Your oaths forbid it: is your avarice, Or, if there be such, any viler passion, To have its giddy range, and to be gorged, It rises over all your sacraments, A hooded mystery, holier than they all.
ROD. Hear me, Don Julian; I have heard thy wrath Who am thy king, nor heard man's wrath before.
JUL. Thou shalt hear mine, for thou art not my king.
ROD. Knowest thou not the altered face of war? Xeres is ours; from every region round True loyal Spaniards throng into our camp: Nay, thy own friends and thy own family, From the remotest provinces, advance To crush rebellion: Sisabert is come, Disclaiming thee and thine; the Asturian hills Opposed to him their icy chains in vain: But never wilt thou see him, never more, Unless in adverse war, and deadly hate.
JUL. So lost to me! So generous, so deceived! I grieve to hear it.
ROD. Come, I offer grace, Honour, dominion: send away these slaves, Or leave them to our sword, and all beyond The distant Ebro to the towns of France Shall bless thy name, and bend before thy throne. I will myself accompany thee, I, The king, will hail thee brother.
JUL. Ne'er shalt thou Henceforth be king: the nation in thy name May issue edicts, champions may command The vassal multitudes of marshalled war, And the fierce charger shrink before the shouts, Lowered as if earth had opened at his feet, While thy mailed semblance rises toward the ranks, But God alone sees thee.
ROD. What hopest thou? To conquer Spain, and rule a ravaged land? To compass me around, to murder me?
JUL. No, Don Roderigo: swear thou, in the fight That thou wilt meet me, hand to hand, alone, That, if I ever save thee from a foe -
ROD. I swear what honour asks--first, to Covilla Do thou present my crown and dignity.
JUL. Darest thou offer any price for shame?
ROD. Love and repentance.
JUL. Egilona lives: And were she buried with her ancestors, Covilla should not be the gaze of men, Should not, despoiled of honour, rule the free.
ROD. Stern man! her virtues well deserve the throne.
JUL. And Egilona--what hath she deserved, The good, the lovely?
ROD. But the realm in vain Hoped a succession.
JUL. Thou hast torn away The roots of royalty.
ROD. For her, for thee.
JUL. 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 abandoned one Who drags religion to adultery's feet, And rears the altar higher for her sake.
ROD. Have then the Saracens possessed thee quite, And wilt thou never yield me thy consent?
JUL. Never.
ROD. So deep in guilt, in treachery! Forced to acknowledge it! forced to avow The traitor!
JUL. 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 anyone 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 clasped them all united, and thanked 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.
ABD. Julian, to thee, the terror of the faithless, I bring my father's