Part 311 (2/2)

Nay, continue.

MARQUIS (after a pause).

I feel, sire--all the worth----

KING.

Proceed; you had Yet more to say to me.

MARQUIS.

Your majesty, I lately pa.s.sed through Flanders and Brabant, So many rich and blooming provinces, Filled with a valiant, great, and honest people.

To be the father of a race like this I thought must be divine indeed; and then I stumbled on a heap of burnt men's bones.

[He stops, he fixes a penetrating look on the KING, who endeavors to return his glance; but he looks on the ground, embarra.s.sed and confused.

True, you are forced to act so; but that you Could dare fulfil your task--this fills my soul With shuddering horror! Oh, 'tis pity that The victim, weltering in his blood, must cease To chant the praises of his sacrificer!

And that mere men--not beings loftier far-- Should write the history of the world. But soon A milder age will follow that of Philip, An age of truer wisdom; hand in hand, The subjects' welfare and the sovereign's greatness Will walk in union. Then the careful state Will spare her children, and necessity No longer glory to be thus inhuman.

KING.

When, think you, would that blessed age arrive, If I had shrunk before the curse of this?

Behold my Spain, see here the burgher's good Blooms in eternal and unclouded peace.

A peace like this will I bestow on Flanders.

MARQUIS (hastily).

The churchyard's peace! And do you hope to end What you have now begun? Say, do you hope To check the ripening change of Christendom, The universal spring, that shall renew The earth's fair form? Would you alone, in Europe, Fling yourself down before the rapid wheel Of destiny, which rolls its ceaseless course, And seize its spokes with human arm. Vain thought!

Already thousands have your kingdom fled In joyful poverty: the honest burgher For his faith exiled, was your n.o.blest subject!

See! with a mother's arms, Elizabeth Welcomes the fugitives, and Britain blooms In rich luxuriance, from our country's arts.

Bereft of the new Christian's industry, Granada lies forsaken, and all Europe Exulting, sees his foe oppressed with wounds, By its own hands inflicted!

[The KING is moved; the MARQUIS observes it, and advances a step nearer.

You would plant For all eternity, and yet the seeds You sow around you are the seeds of death!

This hopeless task, with nature's laws at strife, Will ne'er survive the spirit of its founder.

You labor for ingrat.i.tude; in vain, With nature you engage in desperate struggle-- In vain you waste your high and royal life In projects of destruction. Man is greater Than you esteem him. He will burst the chains Of a long slumber, and reclaim once more His just and hallowed rights. With Nero's name, And fell Busiris', will he couple yours; And--ah! you once deserved a better fate.

KING.

How know you that?

MARQUIS.

In very truth you did-- Yes, I repeat it--by the Almighty power!

Restore us all you have deprived us of, And, generous as strong, let happiness Flow from your horn of plenty--let man's mind Ripen in your vast empire--give us back All you have taken from us--and become, Amidst a thousand kings, a king indeed!

[He advances boldly, and fixes on him a look of earnestness and enthusiasm.

Oh, that the eloquence of all those myriads, Whose fate depends on this momentous hour, Could hover on my lips, and fan the spark That lights thine eye into a glorious flame!

Renounce the mimicry of G.o.dlike powers Which level us to nothing. Be, in truth, An image of the Deity himself!

Never did mortal man possess so much For purpose so divine. The kings of Europe Pay homage to the name of Spain. Be you The leader of these kings. One pen-stroke now, One motion of your hand, can new create The earth! but grant us liberty of thought.

[Casts himself at his feet.

KING (surprised, turns away his face, then again looks towards the MARQUIS).

Enthusiast most strange! arise; but I----

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