Part 2 (1/2)
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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, 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 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 wa.s.sail 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.