Muza and Abdalazis.

[Muza to Abdalazis.

Muza. I saw him but an instant, and disguised,
Yet this is not the traitor; on his brow
Observe the calm of wisdom and of years.

Opas. Whom seekest thou?

Muza. Him who was king, I seek.
He came arrayed as herald to this tent.

Abd. Thy daughter! was she nigh? perhaps for her
Was this disguise.

Muza. Here, Abdalazis, kings
Disguise from other causes; they obtain
Beauty by violence, and power by fraud.
Treason was his intent: we must admit
Whoever come; our numbers are too small
For question or selection, and the blood
Of Spaniards shall win Spain for us, today.

Abd. The wicked cannot move from underneath
Thy ruling eye.

Muza. Right!—Julian and Roderigo
Are leagued against us, on these terms alone,
That Julian’s daughter weds the christian king.

[Egilona, turning round, and rushing forward.

Egil. ’Tis true—and I proclaim—

Abd. Heaven and earth!
Was it not thou, most lovely, most high-souled,
Who wishedst us success, and me a crown?

[Opas, in astonishment, goes abruptly.

Egil. I give it—I am Egilona, queen
Of that detested man.

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 retards 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 approach’d,
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 worship thee, and soon;
Why this affliction? O, that I alone
Could raise or could repress it!

Egil. We depart,
Nor interrupt your counsels, nor impede;
O 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 allie—

Egil. Author of every woe I have endur’d!
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
Refus’d alliance with illustrious power?
Tho’ some have given its enjoyments up,
Tired and enfeebled by satiety.
His friends and partisans, ’twas his pretence,
Should pass uninterrupted; hence his camp
Is open, every day, to enemies.
You look around, O queen, as tho’ you fear’d
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.

[He takes her hand.

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

[She is reluctant to go with him.

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

[Sternly—he leads her away.