Count Julian Part 6

ABD. I touch the hand That chains down fortune to the throne of fate; And will avenge thee; for 'twas thy command, 'Tis Heaven's--My father! what r.e.t.a.r.ds our bliss?

Why art thou silent?

MUZA. Inexperienced years Rather would rest on the soft lap, I see, Of pleasure, after the fierce gusts of war.

O Destiny! that callest me alone, Hapless, to keep the toilsome watch of state; Painful to age, unnatural to youth, Adverse to all society of friends, Equality, and liberty, and ease, The welcome cheer of the unbidden feast, The gay reply, light, sudden, like the leap Of the young forester's unbended bow; But, above all, to tenderness at home, And sweet security of kind concern Even from those who seem most truly ours.

Who would resign all this, to be approached, Like a sick infant by a canting nurse, To spread his arms in darkness, and to find One universal hollowness around?

Forego, a little while, that bane of peace.

Love may be cherished.

ABD. 'Tis enough; I ask No other boon.

MUZA. Not victory?

ABD. Farewell, O queen! I will deserve thee; why do tears Silently drop, and slowly, down thy veil?

I shall return to wors.h.i.+p thee, and soon; Why this affliction? Oh, that I alone Could raise or could repress it!

EGI. We depart, Nor interrupt your counsels, nor impede; Oh, may they prosper, whatsoe'er they be, And perfidy soon meet its just reward!

The infirm and peaceful Opas--whither gone?

MUZA. Stay, daughter; not for counsel are we met, But to secure our arms from treachery, O'erthrow and stifle base conspiracies, Involve in his own toils our false ally -

EGI. Author of every woe I have endured!

Ah, sacrilegious man! he vowed to Heaven None of his blood should ever mount the throne.

MUZA. Herein his vow indeed is ratified: Yet faithful ears have heard this offer made, And weighty was the conference that ensued, And long, not dubious; for what mortal e'er Refused alliance with ill.u.s.trious power?

Though some have given its enjoyments up, Tired and enfeebled by satiety.

His friends and partisans, 'twas his pretence, Should pa.s.s uninterrupted; hence his camp Is open every day to enemies.

You look around, O queen, as though you feared Their entrance--Julian I pursue no more; You conquer him--return we; I bequeath Ruin, extermination, not reproach.

How we may best attain your peace and will We must consider in some other place, Not, lady, in the midst of snares and wiles How to supplant your charms and seize your crown.

I rescue it, fear not: yes, we retire.

Whatever is your wish becomes my own, Nor is there in this land but who obeys.

[He leads her away.

THIRD ACT: FIRST SCENE.

Palace in XERES.

RODERIGO and OPAS.

ROD. Impossible! she could not thus resign Me, for a miscreant of Barbary, A mere adventurer: but that citron face Shall bleach and shrivel the whole winter long There, on you cork-tree by the sallyport.

She shall return.

OPAS. To fondness and to faith?

Dost thou retain them, if she could return?

ROD. Retain them? she has forfeited by this All right to fondness, all to royalty.

OPAS. Consider, and speak calmly: she deserves Some pity, some reproof.

ROD. To speak then calmly, Since thine eyes open and can see her guilt - Infamous and atrocious! let her go-- Chains

OPAS. What! in Muza's camp?

ROD. My scorn supreme!

OPAS. Say pity.

ROD. Ay, ay, pity--that suits best.

I loved her, but HAD loved her; three whole years Of pleasure, and of varied pleasure too, Had worn the soft impression half away.

What I once felt, I would recall; the faint Responsive voice grew fainter each reply: Imagination sank amid the scenes It laboured to create; the vivid joy Of fleeting youth I followed, and possessed.

'Tis the first moment of the tenderest hour, 'Tis the first mien on entering new delights, We give our peace, our power, our souls, for these.

OPAS. Thou hast; and what remains?

ROD. Myself--Roderigo - Whom hatred cannot reach, nor love cast down.

OPAS. Nor grat.i.tude nor pity nor remorse Call back, nor vows nor earth nor heaven control.

But art thou free and happy? art thou safe?

By shrewd contempt the humblest may chastise Whom scarlet and its ermine cannot scare, And the sword skulks for everywhere in vain, Thee the poor victim of thy outrages, Woman, with all her weakness, may despise.

ROD. But first let quiet age have intervened.

OPAS. Ne'er will the peace or apathy of age Be thine, or twilight steal upon thy day.

The violent choose, but cannot change, their end: Violence, by man or nature, must be theirs: Thine it must be, and who to pity thee?

ROD. Behold, my solace! none. I want no pity.

OPAS. Proclaim we those the happiest of mankind Who never knew a want? Oh, what a curse To thee this utter ignorance of thine!

Julian, whom all the good commiserate, Sees thee below him far in happiness: A state indeed of no quick restlessness, No glancing agitation, one vast swell Of melancholy, deep, impa.s.sable, Interminable, where his spirit alone Broods and o'ershadows all, bears him from earth, And purifies his chastened soul for heaven.

Both heaven and earth shall from thy grasp recede.

Whether on death or life thou arguest, Untutored savage or corrupted heathen Avows no sentiment so vile as thine.

Rod. Nor feels?

OPAS. O human nature! I have heard The secrets of the soul, and pitied thee.

Bad and accursed things have men confessed Before me, but have left them unarrayed.

Naked, and s.h.i.+vering with deformity.

The troubled dreams and deafening gush of youth Fling o'er the fancy, struggling to be free, Discordant and impracticable things: If the good shudder at their past escapes, Shall not the wicked shudder at their crimes?

They shall--and I denounce upon thy head G.o.d's vengeance--thou shalt rule this land no more.

ROD. What! my own kindred leave me and renounce me!

OPAS. Kindred? and is there any in our world So near us, as those sources of all joy, Those on whose bosom every gale of life Blows softly, who reflect our images In loveliness through sorrows and through age, And bear them onward far beyond the grave.

ROD. Methinks, most reverend Opus, not inapt Are these fair views; arise they from Seville?