Samuel Taylor Coleridge

“ Ordonio. Saved? saved?
Alvar. One pang!
Could I call up one pang of true remorse!
Ordonio. He told me of the babes that prattled to him.
His fatherless little ones! remorse! remorse!
Where got'st thou that fool's word? Curse on remorse! 170
Can it give up the dead, or recompact
A mangled body? mangled—dashed to atoms!
Not all the blessings of a host of angels
Can blow away a desolate widow's curse!
And though thou spill thy heart's blood for atonement, 175
It will not weigh against an orphan's tear!
Alvar. But Alvar——
Ordonio. ”

“ And that Ordonio meditates revenge!
But my resolve is fixed! myself will rescue him,
And learn if haply he knew aught of Alvar.
Enter Valdez.
Valdez. Still sad?—and gazing at the massive door
Of that fell dungeon which thou ne'er had'st sight of,
Save what, perchance, thy infant fancy shap'd it
When the nurse still'd thy cries with unmeant threats.
Now by my faith, girl! this same wizard haunts thee!
A stately man, and eloquent and tender—
Who then need wonder if a lady sighs
Even at the thought of what these stern Dominicans—
Teresa. ”

“ Alvar. O faithful Zulimez!
That my return involved Ordonio's death,
I trust, would give me an unmingled pang,
Yet bearable:—but when I see my father
Strewing his scant grey hairs, e'en on the ground,
Which soon must be his grave, and my Teresa—
Her husband proved a murderer, and her infants
His infants—poor Teresa!—all would perish,
All perish—all; and I (nay bear with me)
Could not survive the complicated ruin!
Zulimez. Nay now! I have distress'd you—you well know,
I ne'er will quit your fortunes. True, 'tis tiresome:
You are a painter, one of many fancies! ”

“ Max. Command me what is human. I stay here.
Octavio. Max! in the Emperor's name I bid thee come.
Max. No Emperor has power to prescribe
Laws to the heart; and would'st thou wish to rob me 45
Of the sole blessing which my fate has left me,
Her sympathy? Must then a cruel deed
Be done with cruelty? The unalterable
Shall I perform ignobly—steal away,
With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No! 50
She shall behold my suffering, my sore anguish,
Hear the complaints of the disparted soul,
And weep tears o'er me. Oh! the human race
Have steely souls—but she is as an angel. ”

“ Alvar (still to Ordonio) . What, if his very virtues
Had pampered his swoln heart and made him proud?
And what if pride had duped him into guilt?
Yet still he stalked a self-created god, 105
Not very bold, but exquisitely cunning;
And one that at his mother's looking-glass
Would force his features to a frowning sternness?
Young Lord! I tell thee, that there are such beings—
Yea, and it gives fierce merriment to the damn'd, 110
To see these most proud men, that loath mankind,
At every stir and buzz of coward conscience,
Trick, cant, and lie, most whining hypocrites! ”

“ And when they cry: Lo! a male child is born!
The mother shall make answer with a groan.
For bloody usurpation, like a vulture, 530
Shall clog its beak within Illyria's heart.
Remorseless slaves of a remorseless tyrant,
They shall be mocked with sounds of liberty,
And liberty shall be proclaimed alone
To thee, O Fire! O Pestilence! O Sword! 535
Till Vengeance hath her fill.—And thou, snatched hence,
Poor friendless fugitive! with mother's wailing,
Offspring of Royal Andreas, shalt return,
With trump and timbrel-clang, and popular shout,
In triumph to the palace of thy fathers! ”

“ Hast tricked me foully; yet I hate thee not. 110
Why should I hate thee? this same world of ours,
'Tis but a pool amid a storm of rain,
And we the air-bladders that course up and down,
And joust and tilt in merry tournament;
And when one bubble runs foul of another, 115
The weaker needs must break.
Alvar. I see thy heart!
[875] There is a frightful glitter in thine eye
Which doth betray thee. Inly-tortured man,
This is the revelry of a drunken anguish,
Which fain would scoff away the pang of guilt, 120
And quell each human feeling.
Ordonio. Feeling! feeling! ”

“ Ordonio. This fellow is a Man—he killed for hire
One whom he knew not, yet has tender scruples! 70
[Then turning to Isidore.
[837] These doubts, these fears, thy whine, thy stammering—
Pish, fool! thou blunder'st through the book of guilt,
Spelling thy villainy.
Isidore. My lord—my lord,
I can bear much—yes, very much from you!
But there's a point where sufferance is meanness: 75
I am no villain—never kill'd for hire—
My gratitude——
Ordonio. O aye—your gratitude!
'Twas a well-sounding word—what have you done with it?
Isidore. Who proffers his past favours for my virtue—
Ordonio. ”

“ Ordonio. Well?
Isidore. I was in the act
Of falling down that chasm, when Alhadra
Wak'd me: she heard my heart beat.
Ordonio. Strange enough!
Had you been here before?
Isidore. Never, my lord!
But mine eyes do not see it now more clearly, 80
Than in my dream I saw—that very chasm.
Ordonio (after a pause) . I know not why it should be! yet it is—
Isidore. What is, my lord?
Ordonio. Abhorrent from our nature
To kill a man.—
Isidore. ”

“ Osorio. There's some sense in that scruple; but we'll mask you. 125
Ferdinand. They'll know my gait. But stay! of late I have watch'd
A stranger that lives nigh, still picking weeds,
Now in the swamp, now on the walls of the ruin,
Now clamb'ring, like a runaway lunatic,
Up to the summit of our highest mount. 130
I have watch'd him at it morning-tide and noon,
Once in the moonlight. Then I stood so near,
I heard him mutt'ring o'er the plant. A wizard!
Some gaunt slave, prowling out for dark employments.
Osorio. What may his name be?
Ferdinand. That I cannot tell you. ”

“ Alhadra. Why did'st thou leave his children?
Demon, thou should'st have sent thy dogs of hell
To lap their blood. Then, then I might have hardened
My soul in misery, and have had comfort.
I would have stood far off, quiet though dark, 240
And bade the race of men raise up a mourning
For a deep horror of desolation,
Too great to be one soul's particular lot!
Brother of Zagri! let me lean upon thee.
The time is not yet come for woman's anguish, 245
[879] I have not seen his blood—Within an hour
Those little ones will crowd around and ask me,
Where is our father? ”

“ They are but an art to check its over-swelling.
Bathory! shrink not from my filial arms!
Now, and from henceforth thou shalt not forbid me
To call thee father! And dare I forget 370
The powerful intercession of thy virtue,
Lady Sarolta? Still acknowledge me
Thy faithful soldier!—But what invocation
Shall my full soul address to thee, Glycine?
Thou sword that leap'dst forth from a bed of roses: 375
Thou falcon-hearted dove?
Zapolya. Hear that from me, son!
For ere she lived, her father saved thy life,
Thine, and thy fugitive mother's!
Casimir. Chef Ragozzi! ”

“ Maria. A fearful curse!
Alhadra. But dreamt you not that you return'd and kill'd him?
Dreamt you of no revenge?
Albert (his voice trembling, and in tones of deep distress) . She would have died,
Died in her sins—perchance, by her own hands!
[533] And bending o'er her self-inflicted wounds 325
I might have met the evil glance of frenzy
And leapt myself into an unblest grave!
I pray'd for the punishment that cleanses hearts,
For still I loved her!
Alhadra. And you dreamt all this?
Maria. My soul is full of visions, all is wild! 330
Alhadra. ”

“ You are poor!
Alvar. What follows thence?
Ordonio. That you would fain be richer.
The inquisition, too—You comprehend me?
You are poor, in peril. I have wealth and power, 85
Can quench the flames, and cure your poverty:
And for the boon I ask of you but this,
That you should serve me—once—for a few hours.
Alvar. Thou art the son of Valdez! would to Heaven
That I could truly and for ever serve thee. 90
Ordonio. ”

“ Tertsky and Illo express alarm and fury. Wallenstein remains firm and collected.
Wallenstein. 'Tis decided!
'Tis well! I have received a sudden cure
From all the pangs of doubt: with steady stream 55
Once more my life-blood flows! My soul's secure!
In the night only Friedland's stars can beam.
Lingering irresolute, with fitful fears
I drew the sword—'twas with an inward strife,
While yet the choice was mine. The murderous knife 60
Is lifted for my heart! Doubt disappears!
I fight now for my head and for my life. ”

“ Tertsky. Hadst thou but believed me!
Now seest thou how the stars have lied to thee.
Wallenstein. The stars lie not; but we have here a work
Wrought counter to the stars and destiny.
The science is still honest: this false heart 10
Forces a lie on the truth-telling heaven.
On a divine law divination rests;
Where nature deviates from that law, and stumbles
Out of her limits, there all science errs.
[740] True, I did not suspect! Were it superstition 15
Never by such suspicion t' have affronted
The human form, O may that time ne'er come
In which I shame me of the infirmity. ”

“ Isidore throws off his robe; shews himself armed, and draws his sword.
Ordonio. Now this is excellent and warms the blood! 160
My heart was drawing back, drawing me back
With weak and womanish scruples. Now my vengeance
Beckons me onwards with a warrior's mien,
And claims that life, my pity robb'd her of—
Now will I kill thee, thankless slave, and count it 165
Among my comfortable thoughts hereafter.
Isidore. And all my little ones fatherless—
Die thou first. ”

“ Wallenstein. 'Tis true! they saw me always as I am—
Always! I did not cheat them in the bargain. 180
I never held it worth my pains to hide
The bold all-grasping habit of my soul.
Countess. Nay rather—thou hast ever shewn thyself
A formidable man, without restraint;
Hast exercised the full prerogatives 185
Of thy impetuous nature, which had been
Once granted to thee. Therefore, Duke, not thou,
Who hast still remained consistent with thyself,
But they are in the wrong, who fearing thee,
Entrusted such a power in hands they feared. ”

“ Now but for you, a dungeon's slimy stones 10
Had been my bed and pillow.
Ordonio. Good Isidore!
Why this to me? It is enough, you know it.
Isidore. A common trick of gratitude, my lord,
Seeking to ease her own full heart——
Ordonio. Enough!
A debt repaid ceases to be a debt. 15
You have it in your power to serve me greatly.
Isidore. And how, my lord? I pray you to name the thing.
I would climb up an ice-glazed precipice
To pluck a weed you fancied!
Ordonio. Why—that—Lady—
Isidore. ”

“ Zulimez. Then claim your rights in it! O, revered Don Alvar, 10
Yet, yet give up your all too gentle purpose.
It is too hazardous! reveal yourself,
And let the guilty meet the doom of guilt!
Alvar. Remember, Zulimez! I am his brother,
Injured indeed! O deeply injured! yet 15
Ordonio's brother.
Zulimez. Nobly-minded Alvar!
This sure but gives his guilt a blacker dye.
Alvar. The more behoves it I should rouse within him
Remorse! that I should save him from himself.
Zulimez. Remorse is as the heart in which it grows: 20
If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews
Of true repentance ”

“ Made thee renounce thy duty and thy honour!
Max (rises) . Octavio!
Octavio. Patience! Seat yourself. Much yet 35
Hast thou to hear from me, friend!—hast for years
Lived in incomprehensible illusion.
Before thine eyes is Treason drawing out
As black a web as e'er was spun for venom:
A power of hell o'erclouds thy understanding. 40
I dare no longer stand in silence—dare
No longer see thee wandering on in darkness,
Nor pluck the bandage from thine eyes.
Max. My father!
Yet, ere thou speak'st, a moment's pause of thought! ”

“ To thee, who like the fixed star of the pole
Wert all I gazed at on life's trackless ocean?
[708] O! what a rent thou makest in my heart!
The ingrained instinct of old reverence.
The holy habit of obediency, 55
Must I pluck live asunder from thy name?
Nay, do not turn thy countenance upon me—
It always was as a god looking at me!
Duke Wallenstein, its power is not departed:
The senses still are in thy bonds, although, 60
Bleeding, the soul hath freed itself.
Wallenstein. Max, hear me.
Max. O! do it not, I pray thee, do it not! ”

“ Ordonio's dark perturbéd countenance!
Then bid me (Oh thou could'st not) bid me turn 70
From him, the joy, the triumph of our kind!
To take in exchange that brooding man, who never
Lifts up his eye from the earth, unless to scowl.
Valdez. Ungrateful woman! I have tried to stifle
An old man's passion! was it not enough, 75
That thou hast made my son a restless man,
[867] Banish'd his health, and half unhing'd his reason;
But that thou wilt insult him with suspicion?
And toil to blast his honour? I am old,
A comfortless old man!
Teresa. O grief! ”

“ Countess. To-day I dreamt that I was seeking thee
In thy own chamber. As I entered, lo!
It was no more a chamber; the Chartreuse
At Gitschin 'twas, which thou thyself hast founded, 90
And where it is thy will that thou should'st be
Interred.
Wallenstein. Thy soul is busy with these thoughts.
Countess. What dost thou not believe that oft in dreams
A voice of warning speaks prophetic to us?
Wallenstein. There is no doubt that there exist such voices. ”