Count Julian | Page 8

order, to prepare For the bright day that crowns thy brave exploits: Our enemy is at the very gate! And art thou here, with women in thy train, Crouching to gain admittance to their lord, And mourning the unkindness of delay!
JUL. [much agitated, goes towards the door, and returns.] I am prepared: Prince, judge not hastily.
ABD. 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 uncheered At the gay pomp that smoothes 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, Shuddered to see the jewels on my brow, And turned 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 -
ROD. [unnoticed by ABDALAZIS.] And shrink but to advance.
ABD. Thou tremblest? whence, O Julian! whence this change? Thou lovest still thy country.
JUL. Abdalazis! 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.
ABD. [taking his hand.] Thou feelest what thou speakest, and thy Spain Will ne'er be sheltered 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.
JUL. He comes as herald.
ROD. Thou shalt know full soon, Insulting Moor.
ABD. He cannot bear the grief His country suffers; I will pardon him. He lost his courage first, and then his mind; His courage rushes back, his mind still wanders. The guest of heaven was piteous to these men, And princes stoop to feed them in their courts.
FIRST ACT: FIFTH SCENE.
RODERIGO is going out when MUZA enters with EGILONA; RODERIGO starts back.
MUZA [sternly to EGILONA.] Enter, since 'tis the custom in this land.
EGI. [passing MUZA disdainfully, points to ABDALAZIS, and says to JULIAN.] Is this our future monarch, or art thou?
JUL. 'Tis Abdalazis, son of Muza, prince Commanding Africa, from Abyla To where Tunisian pilots bend the eye O'er ruined temples in the glassy wave. Till quiet times and ancient laws return, He comes to govern here.
ROD. To-morrow's dawn Proves that.
MUZA. What art thou?
ROD. [drawing his sword.] King.
ABD. Amazement!
MUZA. Treason!
EGI. O horror!
MUZA. Seize him.
EGI. Spare him! fly to me!
JUL. Urge me not to protect a guest, a herald - The blasts of war roar over him unfelt.
EGI. Ah fly, unhappy!
ROD. Fly! no, Egilona - Dost thou forgive me? dost thou love me? still?
EGI. I hate, abominate, abhor thee--go, Or my own vengeance -
ROD. [taking JULIAN's hand, and inviting him to attack MUZA and ABDALAZIS.] Julian!
JUL. Hence, or die.

SECOND ACT: FIRST SCENE.

Camp of JULIAN.
JULIAN and COVILLA.
JUL. Obdurate! I am not as I appear. 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.
COV. Cease, my lord, My father, angel of my youth, when all Was innocence and peace.
JUL. Arise, my love, Look up 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.
COV. And never shall I see my mother too, My own, my blessed mother!
JUL. Thou shalt see Her and