The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, (1 and 2), by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Ordonio. Off, ruffians! I have flung away my sword. 230
Woman, my life is thine! to thee I give it!
Off! he that touches me with his hand of flesh,
I'll rend his limbs asunder! I have strength
With this bare arm to scatter you like ashes.

Alhadra. My husband—

Ordonio. Yes, I murdered him most foully. 235

Alvar and Teresa. O horrible!

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? I shall curse thee then!
Wert thou in heaven, my curse would pluck thee thence!

Teresa. He doth repent! See, see, I kneel to thee! 250
O let him live! That agéd man, his father——

Alhadra. Why had he such a son?
[Shouts from the distance of Rescue! Rescue! Alvar! Alvar! and the voice of Valdez heard.
Rescue?—and Isidore's spirit unavenged?—
The deed be mine! [Suddenly stabs Ordonio.
Now take my life!

Ordonio (staggering from the wound). Atonement!

Alvar (while with Teresa supporting Ordonio). Arm of avenging Heaven 255
[880] Thou hast snatched from me my most cherished hope—
But go! my word was pledged to thee.

Ordonio. Away!
Brave not my Father's rage! I thank thee! Thou—
[Then turning his eyes languidly to Alvar.
She hath avenged the blood of Isidore!
I stood in silence like a slave before her 260
That I might taste the wormwood and the gall,
And satiate this self-accusing heart
With bitterer agonies than death can give.
Forgive me, Alvar!
Oh!—could'st thou forget me! [Dies.

Alhadra (to the Moors). I thank thee, Heaven! thou hast ordained it wisely, 265
That still extremes bring their own cure. That point
In misery, which makes the oppressed Man
Regardless of his own life, makes him too
Lord of the Oppressor's—Knew I a hundred men
Despairing, but not palsied by despair, 270
This arm should shake the kingdoms of the world;
The deep foundations of iniquity
Should sink away, earth groaning from beneath them;
The strongholds of the cruel men should fall,
Their temples and their mountainous towers should fall; 275
Till desolation seemed a beautiful thing,
And all that were and had the spirit of life,
Sang a new song to her who had gone forth,
Conquering and still to conquer!

[Alhadra hurries off with the Moors; the stage fills with armed Peasants, and Servants, Zulimez and Valdez at their head. Valdez rushes into Alvar's arms.

Alvar. Turn not thy face that way, my father! hide, 280
Oh hide it from his eye! Oh let thy joy
Flow in unmingled stream through thy first blessing. [Both kneel to Valdez.

Valdez. My Son! My Alvar! bless, Oh bless him, heaven!

[881]Teresa. Me too, my Father?

Valdez. Bless, Oh bless my children! [Both rise.

Alvar. Delights so full, if unalloyed with grief, 285
Were ominous. In these strange dread events
Just Heaven instructs us with an awful voice,
That Conscience rules us e'en against our choice.
Our inward Monitress to guide or warn,
If listened to; but if repelled with scorn, 290
At length as dire Remorse, she reappears,
Works in our guilty hopes, and selfish fears!
Still bids, Remember! and still cries, Too late!
And while she scares us, goads us to our fate.

LINENOTES:

[255]

Ordonio (with great majesty). 'Tis well thou hast avenged thyself, O Woman! Edition 1 (b).

[Note.—In his collation of Remorse with Osorio, the Editor of P. W. 1877-1880, iv. 154 affixes to lines 289-303 of the Fifth Act of Osorio the following variant, said to be derived from the First Edition of Remorse:—After the cry of 'No mercy' (Osorio, Act V, l. 300), 'Naomi advances with the sword and Alhadra snatches it from him and suddenly stabs Ordonio. Alvar rushes through the Moors and catches him in his arms.' After Ordonio's dying speech [ll. 304-307], there are 'shouts of Alvar! Alvar! behind the scenes. A Moor rushes in'—

Moor. We are surprised! away! away! this instant!
The country is in arms! Lord Valdez heads them,
And still cries out, 'My son! my Alvar lives!'
Haste to the shore! they come the opposite road.
Your wives and children are already safe.
The boat is on the shore—the vessel waits.

Alhadra. Thou then art Alvar! to my aid and safety
Thy word stands pledged.

Alvar. Arm of avenging Heaven!
I had two cherish'd hopes—the one remains,
The other thou hast snatch'd from me: but my word
Is pledged to thee; nor shall it be retracted—

Edition 1 (c) (?).

[For MS. version of this variant see note on p. 597.]]

APPENDIX

The following Scene, as unfit for the stage, was taken from the tragedy, in the year 1797, and published in the Lyrical Ballads. [1798, pp. 28-31: vide ante, pp. 182-4.]

Teresa. 'Tis said, he spake of you familiarly,
As mine and Alvar's common foster-mother.

Selma. Now blessings on the man, whoe'er he be
That joined your names with mine! O my sweet Lady,
As often as I think of those dear times, 5
When you two little ones would stand, at eve,
On each side of my chair, and make me learn
All you had learnt in the day; and how to talk
In gentle phrase; then bid me sing to you——
'Tis more like heaven to come, than what has been! 10

Teresa. But that entrance, Selma?

Selma. Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale!

Teresa. No one.

Selma. My husband's father told it me,
Poor old Sesina—angels rest his soul;
He was a woodman, and could fell and saw
With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam 15
Which props the hanging wall of the old chapel?
Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree,
He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined
With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool
As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, 20
And reared him at the then Lord Valdez' cost.
And so the babe grew up a pretty boy,
[882] A pretty boy, but most unteachable——
And never learn'd a prayer, nor told a bead,
But knew the names of birds, and mocked their notes, 25
And whistled, as he were a bird himself.
And all the autumn 'twas his only play
To gather seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them
With earth and water on the stumps of trees.
A Friar, who gathered simples in the wood, 30
A grey-haired man, he loved this little boy:
The boy loved him, and, when the friar taught him,
He soon could write with the pen; and from that time
Lived chiefly at the convent or the castle.
So he became a rare and learned youth: 35
But O! poor wretch! he read, and read, and read,
Till his brain turned; and ere his twentieth year
He had unlawful thoughts of many things:
And though he prayed, he never loved to pray
With holy men, nor in a holy place. 40
But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet,
The late Lord Valdez ne'er was wearied with him.
And once, as by the north side of the chapel
They stood together chained in deep discourse,
The earth heaved under them with such a groan, 45
That the wall tottered, and had well nigh fallen
Right on their heads. My Lord was sorely frightened;
A fever seized him, and he made confession
Of all the heretical and lawless talk
Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seized, 50
And cast into that hole. My husband's father
Sobbed like a child—it almost broke his heart:
And once he was working near this dungeon,
He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's,
Who sung a doleful song about green fields, 55
How sweet it were on lake or wide savanna
To hunt for food, and be a naked man,
And wander up and down at liberty.
He always doted on the youth, and now
His love grew desperate; and defying death, 60
He made that cunning entrance I described,
And the young man escaped.

Teresa. 'Tis a sweet tale:
Such as would lull a listening child to sleep,
His rosy face besoiled with unwiped tears.
[883] And what became of him?

Selma. He went on shipboard 65
With those bold voyagers who made discovery
Of golden lands. Sesina's younger brother
Went likewise, and when he returned to Spain,
He told Sesina, that the poor mad youth,
Soon after they arrived in that new world, 70
In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat,
And all alone set sail by silent moonlight
Up a great river, great as any sea,
And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis supposed,
He lived and died among the savage men. 75

ZAPOLYA [883:1]

A CHRISTMAS TALE
IN TWO PARTS [883:2]

Πὰρ πυρὶ χρὴ τοιαῦτα λέγειν χειμῶνος ἐν ὥρᾳ.
Apud Athenaeum.

LINENOTES:

PART I

THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED 'THE USURPER'S FORTUNE'

CHARACTERS

Scene I

Raab Kiuprili (making a signal to stop the drums, &c.). Silence! enough! This is no time, young friend,
For ceremonious dues. The summoning drum,
Th' air-shattering trumpet, and the horseman's clatter, 10
Are insults to a dying sovereign's ear.
Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your General greets you,
His loyal fellow-warriors. [Guards retire.

Chef Ragozzi. Pardon my surprise.
Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended!
What may these wonders prophesy?

Raab Kiuprili. Tell me first, 15
How fares the king? His majesty still lives?

Chef Ragozzi. We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends
(And none but they approach him) scoff at hope.

Raab Kiuprili. Ragozzi! I have reared thee from a child,
[885] And as a child I have reared thee. Whence this air 20
Of mystery? That face was wont to open
Clear as the morning to me, shewing all things.
Hide nothing from me.

Chef Ragozzi. O most loved, most honoured,
The mystery that struggles in my looks
Betrayed my whole tale to thee, if it told thee 25
That I am ignorant; but fear the worst.
And mystery is contagious. All things here
Are full of motion: and yet all is silent:
And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears.

Raab Kiuprili. I have trembling proof within how true thou speakest. 30

Chef Ragozzi. That the prince Emerick feasts the soldiery,
Gives splendid arms, pays the commanders' debts,
And (it is whispered) by sworn promises
Makes himself debtor—hearing this, thou hast heard
All—— 35
But what my lord will learn too soon himself.

Raab Kiuprili. Ha!—Well then, let it come! Worse scarce can come.
This letter written by the trembling hand
Of royal Andreas calls me from the camp
To his immediate presence. It appoints me, 40
The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm,
And of the royal infant. Day by day,
Robbed of Zapolya's soothing cares, the king
Yearns only to behold one precious boon,
And with his life breathe forth a father's blessing. 45

Chef Ragozzi. Remember you, my lord! that Hebrew leech
Whose face so much distempered you?

Raab Kiuprili. Barzoni?
I held him for a spy; but the proof failing
(More courteously, I own, than pleased myself),
I sent him from the camp.

Chef Ragozzi. To him, in chief, 50
Prince Emerick trusts his royal brother's health.

Raab Kiuprili. Hide nothing, I conjure you! What of him?

[886]Chef Ragozzi. With pomp of words beyond a soldier's cunning,
And shrugs and wrinkled brow, he smiles and whispers!
Talks in dark words of women's fancies; hints 55
That 'twere a useless and a cruel zeal
To rob a dying man of any hope,
However vain, that soothes him: and, in fine,
Denies all chance of offspring from the Queen.

Raab Kiuprili. The venomous snake! My heel was on its head, 60
And (fool!) I did not crush it!

Chef Ragozzi. Nay, he fears
Zapolya will not long survive her husband.

Raab Kiuprili. Manifest treason! Even this brief delay
Half makes me an accomplice——(If he live,) [Is moving toward the palace.
If he but live and know me, all may——

Chef Ragozzi. Halt! [Stops him. 65
On pain of death, my Lord! am I commanded
To stop all ingress to the palace.

Raab Kiuprili. Thou!

Chef Ragozzi. No place, no name, no rank excepted—

Raab Kiuprili. Thou!

Chef Ragozzi. This life of mine, O take it, Lord Kiuprili!
I give it as a weapon to thy hands, 70
Mine own no longer. Guardian of Illyria,
Useless to thee, 'tis worthless to myself.
Thou art the framer of my nobler being;
Nor does there live one virtue in my soul,
One honourable hope, but calls thee father. 75
Yet ere thou dost resolve, know that yon palace
Is guarded from within, that each access
Is thronged by armed conspirators, watched by ruffians
Pampered with gifts, and hot upon the spoil
Which that false promiser still trails before them. 80
I ask but this one boon—reserve my life
Till I can lose it for the realm and thee!

Raab Kiuprili. My heart is rent asunder. O my country,
O fallen Illyria, stand I here spell-bound?
Did my King love me? Did I earn his love? 85
Have we embraced as brothers would embrace?
Was I his arm, his thunder-bolt? And now
Must I, hag-ridden, pant as in a dream?
[887] Or, like an eagle, whose strong wings press up
Against a coiling serpent's folds, can I 90
Strike but for mockery, and with restless beak
Gore my own breast?—Ragozzi, thou art faithful?

Chef Ragozzi. Here before Heaven I dedicate my faith
To the royal line of Andreas.

Raab Kiuprili. Hark, Ragozzi!
Guilt is a timorous thing ere perpetration: 95
Despair alone makes wicked men be bold.
Come thou with me! They have heard my voice in flight,
Have faced round, terror-struck, and feared no longer
The whistling javelins of their fell pursuers.
Ha! what is this?
[Black flag displayed from the Tower of the Palace: a death-bell tolls, &c.
Vengeance of Heaven! He is dead. 100

Chef Ragozzi. At length then 'tis announced. Alas! I fear,
That these black death-flags are but treason's signals.

Raab Kiuprili. A prophecy too soon fulfilled! See yonder!
O rank and ravenous wolves! the death-bell echoes
Still in the doleful air—and see! they come. 105

Chef Ragozzi. Precise and faithful in their villainy
Even to the moment, that the master traitor
Had pre-ordained them.

Raab Kiuprili. Was it over-haste,
Or is it scorn, that in this race of treason
Their guilt thus drops its mask, and blazons forth 110
Their infamous plot even to an idiot's sense?

Chef Ragozzi. Doubtless they deem Heaven too usurp'd! Heaven's justice
Bought like themselves!
Being equal all in crime,
Do you press on, ye spotted parricides!
For the one sole pre-eminence yet doubtful, 115
The prize of foremost impudence in guilt?

Raab Kiuprili. The bad man's cunning still prepares the way
For its own outwitting. I applaud, Ragozzi!
Ragozzi! I applaud,
[888] In thee, the virtuous hope that dares look onward
And keeps the life-spark warm of future action 120
Beneath the cloak of patient sufferance.
Act and appear, as time and prudence prompt thee:
I shall not misconceive the part thou playest.
Mine is an easier part—to brave the usurper.

[Enter a procession of Emerick's Adherents, Nobles, Chieftains, and Soldiers, with Music. They advance toward the front of the stage. Kiuprili makes the signal for them to stop.—The Music ceases.

LINENOTES:

APPENDIX

ZAPOLYA [883:1]

A CHRISTMAS TALE
IN TWO PARTS [883:2]

ADVERTISEMENT

FOOTNOTES:

LINENOTES:

PART I

THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED 'THE USURPER'S FORTUNE'

CHARACTERS

Scene I

LINENOTES:

APPENDIX

ZAPOLYA[883:1]

A CHRISTMAS TALE IN TWO PARTS[883:2]

ADVERTISEMENT

FOOTNOTES:

LINENOTES:

PART I

THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED 'THE USURPER'S FORTUNE'

CHARACTERS

Scene I

ZAPOLYA [883:1]

A CHRISTMAS TALE
IN TWO PARTS [883:2]