Volume 1 / Act 2 — SCENE III.——A garden.

Amel. [Alone] And are ye all then vanished, sylphs of bliss? All fled in air, and not one trace, one shadow Left of my bright day-visions? Is not rather All this some fearful dream?——Cæsario false! I know 'tis so, yet scarce can think 'tis so! Gods! when last night, after long absence meeting, What looks!—what joy!—and was then all deceit? Did he but mock me, when with tears of rapture He bathed my hand; knelt; sighed; as had his voice By pleasure been o'erwhelmed, a while was silent; But soon came words, sweet as those most sweet kisses Which grateful Venus gave the swain whose care Brought back her truant doves!—--So sweet, so sweet—— Distrust, herself, must have believed those words. Oh! and was all but feigned?

Enter Cæsario and Estella.

Estella. Wait here awhile; I'll try to sooth her. Cæsa. My best friend! Estel. Withdraw [Cæsario retires. Still bathed in tears? Amel. [Throwing herself on her bosom.] Oh! my soul's sick, Estella. My heart is broken, broken! Estel. Nay, be calm! I bring you comfort. Amel. How? Estel. Cæsario sues For one short moment's audience. Amel. I'll not see him. Estel. Dear princess! Amel. Never! saw I not Ottilia Decked with my gift? did I not hear.——Shame! shame! Go, go, Estella, see him! say, and firmly, We meet no more! say, that the veil is rent! Say, that I know him wavering, vain, ungrateful, Flattering and false! and having said this, add, False as he is, he's my soul's tyrant still! Cæsa. [Throwing himself at her feet] Accents of Heaven!—my life! my love! Amel. Cæsario? Farewell forever! Cæsa. Nay you must not leave me. Hear me but speak.—— Amel. Release me! Cæsa. But one word.— Amel. I'll not be held!—Your pardon. I forgot sir! I thought myself still mistress of my actions! Still princess of Castile!—Now I remember I'm that despised, unhappy thing, your wife! Sir, I obey!—Your pleasure! Cæsa. Oh! how lovely Those eyes can make e'en scorn! yet calm their lightnings— Once more let love.— Amel. Never—the hours are past When I believed thee all my fond heart wished; Thought thee the best, the kindest, truest——thought thee—— Oh! Heaven! no Eastern tale portrays the palace Of fay, or wizard (where in bright confusion Blaze gold and gems) so glorious fair, as seemed, Tricked in the rainbow-colours of my fancy, Cæsario's form this morn:——Too late I know thee; The spell is broke; and where an Houri smiled, Now scowls a fiend. Oh! thus benighted pilgrims Admire the glow-worm's light, while gloom prevails But find that seeming lamp of fiery lustre A poor dark worthless worm, when viewed in sunshine. Away, and seek Ottilia. Cæsa. Oh! my princess, Deep as thy anger wounds my heart, more deeply I grieve to think, how thine will bleed at finding This anger undeserved. Amel. Oh! that it were so, But no! I saw my scarf——that very scarf—— My own hands wrought it.——Many a midnight lamp, While thou wert at the wars, in toil I wasted, And made it my sole joy to toil for thee, There was no thread I had not blest! no flower I had not kist a thousand times, and murmured With every kiss a prayer for thy return, And yet thou gav'st this sacred work to buy A wanton's favours.—— Cæsa. Say, to buy her silence? Amel. Her silence? Cæsa. As this morn I left the palace, She marked my flight. Amel. Just heaven! Cæsa. Though unrequited, Her love has long been mine.—She raved; she threatened; She would have vengeance; she would rouse the guards; Alarm the king.—— Amel. [Shuddering.] My father! Cæsa. But her silence Bought by that scarf.— Amel. Cæsario, could I trust thee? Were this tale true, could I but think.— Cæsa. I'll swear. Amel. No! at the altar thou hast sworn already Mine were thy hand and heart, and mine forever: If thou canst break this oath, none else will bind thee—— Yet did I wrong thee? art thou true? I fain Would think thee so.——But this fond heart, my husband, Is such a weak sad thing and where it loves, Loves so devoutly——Spare me, dear Cæsario, Such fears in future; let no word, no thought, Cloud thy pure faith, for so my soul dotes on thee, But to suspect thee racks each nerve, and almost Drives my brain mad,—Oh! could'st thou know, Cæsario, How painful 'tis for one who loves like me, To cease to love——Cease, said I?——No, my heart Ceased to esteem, but never ceased to love thee.

[Falling on his neck.]

Cæsa. My soul! my Amelrosa,—Now all planets Rain plagues upon my perjured head, if e'er I break the vow, which here I breathe; this heart, Filled but with thee, and formed but to adore thee, Is thine, my love, thine now, and thine forever! Amel. Hark!—steps approach——Estella? Estel. [who has retired, advances hastily.] Haste, Cæsario, You must away! the king's returned, I see His train now loitering near the garden-gate, Fly by the private postern. Cæsa. Straight I'll follow. [Exit Estella. And must I leave thee, leave thee for so long too? The king's affairs now call me far from Burgos, And ere we meet again twelve hours must pass. Amel. Ah! me, to love, an age. Cæsa. Yet should I leave thee With calmer soul, nor feel such pain in absence, Were I but sure one wish—— Amel. [Eagerly.] Oh! name it, name it, But ask me nothing light in action: ask me Something strange, hard, and painful: Something, such As none would dare to do but one who loves. Name, name this blessed wish. Cæsa.'Tis this—From midnight, Till my return, avoid the royal tower. Amel. I promise; yet what reason—— Cæsa. When we meet Thou shalt know all; till then forgive my silence: Seal with a kiss thy promise, then farewell.

[Here Alfonso advances in silence; his eyes are fixed on his daughter, his hands are folded, and his whole appearance expresses the utmost dejection.]

Amel. Farewell, since it must be farewell——But mark, See not Ottilia ere you go. Cæsa. I will not. Amel. And when the bell's deep tongue announces midnight, Breathe thou my name, for at that hour, my love, I'll think on thee.—That hour! Oh, fool! as if Hours could be found in which I think not on thee. And must thou go?—Nay, if thou must, away, Or I shall bid thee stay, and stay forever. Farewell my husband! Cæsa. My soul's joy, farewell! Amel. Oh! pain of parting!

[Turning round, her eye rests on Alfonso. She starts, and remains as petrified with terror. After a pause, he passes her in silence; but, on his reaching the door, she rushes towards him, her hands clasped in supplication.]

Father!

[Alfonso motions to forbid her following, and goes off.]

Amel. Oh! I'm lost! [She falls senseless on the ground.]