Part 4 (1/2)

COV. I told you, dearest Sisabert, 'twas vain To urge me more, to question, or confute.

SIS. I know it, for another wears the crown Of Witiza my father; who succeeds To king Roderigo will succeed to me.

Yet thy cold perfidy still calls me dear, And o'er my aching temples breathes one gale Of days departed to return no more.

JUL. Young man, avenge our cause.

SIS. What cause avenge?

COV. If I was ever dear to you, hear me, Not vengeance; Heaven will give that signal soon.

O Sisabert, the pangs I have endured On your long absence -

SIS. Will be now consoled.

Thy father comes to mount my father's throne; But though I would not a usurper king, I prize his valour and defend his crown: No stranger and no traitor rules o'er me, Or unchastised inveigles humbled Spain.

Covilla, gavest thou no promises?

Nor thou, Don Julian? Seek not to reply - Too well I know, too justly I despise, Thy false excuse, thy coward effrontery; Yes, when thou gavest them across the sea, An enemy wert thou to Mahomet, And no appellant to his faith or leagues.

JUL. 'Tis well: a soldier hears throughout in silence.

I urge no answer: to those words, I fear, Thy heart with sharp compunction will reply.

SIS. [to COVILLA.] Then I demand of thee before thou reign, Answer me--while I fought against the Frank Who dared to smite thee? blazoned in the court, Not trailed through darkness, were our nuptial bands; No: Egilona joined our hands herself, The peers applauded, and the king approved.

JUL. Hast thou yet seen that king since thy return?

COV. Father! O father!

SIS. I will not implore Of him or thee what I have lost for ever.

These were not when we parted thy alarms; Far other, and far worthier of thy heart Were they; which Sisabert could banish then.

Fear me not now, Covilla! thou hast changed - I am changed too--I lived but where thou livedst, My very life was portioned off from thine.

Upon the surface of thy happiness Day after day I gazed, I doted--there Was all I had, was all I coveted; So pure, serene, and boundless it appeared: Yet, for we told each other every thought, Thou knowest well, if thou rememberest, At times I feared; as though some demon sent Suspicion without form into the world, To whisper unimaginable things.

Then thy fond arguing banished all but hope, Each wish, and every feeling, was with thine, Till I partook thy nature, and became Credulous, and incredulous, like thee.

We, who have met so altered, meet no more.

Mountains and seas! ye are not separation: Death! thou dividest, but unitest too, In everlasting peace and faith sincere.

Confiding love! where is thy resting-place?

Where is thy truth, Covilla? where!--Go, go, I should adore thee and believe thee still.

[Goes.

COV. O Heaven! support me, or desert me quite, And leave me lifeless this too trying hour!

He thinks me faithless.

JUL. He must think thee so.

COV. Oh, tell him, tell him all, when I am dead - He will die too, and we shall meet again.

He will know all when these sad eyes are closed.

Ah, cannot he before? must I appear The vilest?--O just Heaven! can it be thus?

I am--all earth resounds it--lost, despised, Anguish and shame unutterable seize me.

'Tis palpable, no phantom, no delusion, No dream that wakens with o'erwhelming horror: Spaniard and Moor fight on this ground alone, And tear the arrow from my bleeding breast To pierce my father's, for alike they fear.

JUL. Invulnerable, una.s.sailable Are we, alone perhaps of human kind, Nor life allures us more, nor death alarms.