Elv. ’Tis well! ’tis just I should be humbled — I had forgot myself, and in the cause of innocence assumed the tone of virtue. ’Twas fit I should be rebuked — and by Pizarro. Fall, fall, ye few reluctant drops of weakness — the last these eyes shall ever shed. How a woman can love Pizarro, thou hast known too well — how she can hate, thou hast yet to learn. Yes, thou undaunted! — thou, whom yet no mortal hazard has appalled! — thou, who on Panama’s brow didst make alliance with the raving elements, that tore the silence of that horrid night — when thou didst follow, as thy pioneer, the crashing thunder’s drift, and stalking o’er the trembling earth, didst plant thy banner by the red volcano’s mouth! — Thou, who when battling on the sea, and thy brave ship was blown to splinters, wast seem — as thou didst bestride a fragment of the smoking wreck — to wave thy glittering sword above thy head — as thou wouldst defy the world in that extremity! — Come, fearless man — now meet the last and fellest peril of thy life — meet! and survive — an injured woman’s fury, if thou canst. [Exit.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
A Dungeon in the Roch, near the Spanish Camp. — ALONZO in Chains. — A Centinel walking near the Entrance.
Alon. For the last time I have beheld the shadowed ocean close upon the light. For the last time, through my cleft dungeon’s roof, I now behold the quivering lustre of the stars. For the last time, O sun! and soon the hour I shall behold thy rising, and thy level beams melting the pale mists of mom to glittering dew-drops. Then comes my death, and in the morning of my day I fall, which — No, Alonzo, date not the life which thou hast run by the mean reckoning of the hours and days, which thou hast breathed: a life spent worthily should be measured by a nobler line — by deeds, not years — then wouldst thou murmur not — but bless the Providence, which in so short a span, made thee the instrument of wide and spreading blessings to the helpless and oppressed! — Though sinking in decrepit age, he prematurely falls, whose memory records no benefit conferred by him on man. They only have lived long, who have lived virtuously.
Enter a Soldier, shows the CENTINEL a passport, who withdraws.
Alm. What bear you there?
Sold. These refreshments I was ordered to leave in your dungeon.
Alon. By whom ordered?
Sold. By the lady Elvira: she will be here herself before the dawn.
Alm. Bear back to her my humblest thanks; and take thou the refreshments, friend — I need them not.
Sold. I have served under you, Don Alonzo. — Pardon my saying, that my heart pities you.
[Exit.
Alon. In Pizarro’s camp, to pity the unfortunate, no doubt requires forgiveness. — [Looking out.] — Surely, even now, thin streaks of glimmering light steal on the darkness of the east. If so, my life is but one hour more. — I will not watch the coming dawn; but in the darkness of my cell, my last prayer to thee, Power Supreme! shall be for my wife and child! — Grant them to dwell in innocence and peace; grant health and purity of mind — all else is worthless. — [Enters the cavern.
Gent. Who’s there? answer quickly! who’s there?
Rol. A friar, come to visit your prisoner.
ROLLA enters, disguised as a monk.
Rol. Inform me, friend — is not Alonzo, the Spanish prisoner, confined in this dungeon?
Cent. He is.
Rol. I must speak with him.
Cent. You must not.
Rol. He is my friend.
Cent. Not if he were your brother.
Rol. What is to be his fate?
Cent. He dies at sunrise.
Rol. Ha! — then I am come in time.
Cent. Just — to witness his death.
Rol. Soldier, I must speak with him.
Cent. Back, back. — It is impossible!
Rol. I do entreat you but for one moment!
Cent. You entreat in vain — my orders are most strict.
Rol. Even now, I saw a messenger go hence.
Cent. He brought a pass, which we are all accustomed to obey.
Rol. Look on this wedge of massive gold — look on these precious gems. In thy own land they will be wealth for thee and thine, beyond thy hope or wish. Take them — they are thine. Let me but pass one minute with Alonzo.
Cent. Away! — wouldst thou corrupt me? — Me! — an old Castilian! — I know my duty better.
Rol. Soldier! — hast thou a wife?
Cent. I have. —
Rol. Hast thou children?
Cent. Four — honest, lively boys.
Rol. Where didst thou leave them?
Cent. In my native village — even in the cot where myself was born.
Rol. Dost thou love thy children and thy wife? —
Cent. Do I love them! God knows my heart, — I do.
Rol. Soldier! — imagine thou wert doomed to die a cruel death in this strange land — What would be thy last request?
Cent. That some of my comrades should carry my dying blessing to my wife and children.
Rol. Oh! but if that comrade was at thy prison gate — and should there be told — thy fellow-soldier dies at sunrise, — yet thou shalt not for a moment see him — nor shalt thou bear his dying blessing to his poor children or his wretched wife, — what wouldst thou think of him, who thus could drive thy comrade from the door?
Cent. How!
Rol. Alonzo has a wife and child — I am come but to receive for her and for her babe the last blessing of my friend.
Cent. Go in. —
Rol. Oh! holy Nature! thou dost never plead in vain. — There is not, of our earth, a creature bearing form, and life, human or savage — native of the forest wild, or giddy air — around whose parent bosom thou hast not a cord entwined of power to tie them to their offspring’s claims, and at thy will to draw them back to thee. On iron pennons borne, the bloodstained vulture cleaves the storm — yet is the plumage closest to her heart soft as the cygnet’s down, and o’er her unshelled brood the murmuring ring-dove sits not more gently! — Yes — now he is beyond the porch, barring the outer gate! Alonzo! — Alonzo! — my friend! — Ha! in gentle sleep! — Alonzo! — rise!
Alon. How! — Is my hour elapsed? — Well, [returning from the recess] I am ready.
Rol. Alonzo, know me.
Alon. What voice is that?
Rol. ’Tis Rolla’s.
Alon. Rolla! — my friend! — [Embrace him.]
Heavens! how couldst thou pass the guard? Did this habit —
Rol. There is not a moment to be lost in words: — this disguise I tore from the dead body of a friar, as I passed our field of battle — it has gained me entrance to thy dungeon — now take it thou, and fly.
Alon. And Rolla —
Rol. Will remain here in thy place. —
Alon. And die for me! — No! — Rather eternal tortures rack me.
Rol. I shall not die, Alonzo. — It is thy life Pizarro seeks, not Rolla’s — and from my prison soon will thy arm deliver me; — or, should it be otherwise — I am as a blighted plantain standing alone amid the sandy desert — nothing seeks or lives beneath my shelter. — Thou art a husband, and a father — the being of a lovely wife and helpless infant hangs upon thy life — Go! — go! — Alonzo! — go! — to save — not thyself — but Cora, and thy child! —
Alon. Urge me not thus, my friend — I had prepared to die in peace.
Rol. To die in peace! — devoting her you’ve sworn to live for, — to madness, misery, and death! — For, be assured, the state I left her in forbids all hope, but from thy quick return.
Alm. Oh, God!
Rol. If thou art yet irresolute, Alonzo — now heed me well. — I think thou hast not known that Rolla ever pledged his word, and shrunk from its fulfilment. — And by the heart of truth I swear, if thou art proudly obstinate to deny thy friend the transport of preserving Cora’s life, in thee, — no power that sways the will of man shall stir me hence; — and thou’lt but have the desperate triumph of seeing Rolla perish by thy side, — with the assure
d conviction that Cora and thy child are lost for ever.
Alon. Oh! Rolla! — you distract me!
Rol. A moment’s further pause, and all is lost — The dawn approaches — Fear not for me — I will treat with Pizarro as for surrender and submission; — I shall gain time, doubt not — while thou, with a chosen band, passing the secret way, mayst at night return — release thy friend, and bear him back in triumph — Yes — hasten — dear Alonzo! — Even now I hear the frantic Cora call thee! — Haste! — haste! — haste!
Alon. Rolla, I fear your friendship drives me from honour, and from right.
Rol. Did Rolla ever counsel dishonour to his friend?
Alon. Oh! my preserver! —
Rol. I feel thy warm tears dropping on my cheek — Go! — I am rewarded — [ — Throws the Friar’s garment over Alonzo. — There! — conceal thy face; and that they may not clank, hold fast thy chains — Now — God be with thee!
Alon. At night we meet again. — Then, — so aid me Heaven! I return to save — or — perish with thee! — [Exit.
Rol. [Alone.] He has passed the outer porch — He is safe! — He will soon embrace his wife and child! — Now, Cora, didst thou not wrong me? This is the first time throughout my life I ever deceived man — Forgive me, God of truth! if I am wrong — Alonzo flatters himself that we shall meet again — Yes — There! [lifting hands to heaven] assuredly, we shall meet again: — there possess in peace the joys of everlasting love and friendship — on earth, imperfect and embittered. — I will retire, lest the guard return before Alonzo may have passed their lines.
[Retires into the Enter ELVIRA. —
Eh. No — not Pizarro’s brutal taunts — not the glowing admiration which I feel for this noble youth, shall raise an interest in my harassed bosom which honour would not sanction. If he reject the vengeance my heart has sworn against the tyrant, whose death alone can save this land — yet, shall the delight be mine to restore him to his Cora’s arms, to his dear child, and to the unoffending people, whom his virtues guide, and valour guards. — Alonzo, come forth!
Enter ROLLA.
Ha! — Who art thou? — Where is Alonzo?
Rol. Alonzo’s fled.
Elv. Red! —
Rol. Yes — and he must not be pursued — Pardon this roughness, [seizing her — but a moment’s precious to Alonzo’s flight.
Elv. What if I call the guard?
Rol. Do so — Alonzo still gains time.
Elv. What if thus I free myself?
[Shows a dagger.
Rol. Strike it to my heart — Still, with the convulsive grasp of death, I’ll hold thee fast.
Elv. Release me — I give my faith, I neither will alarm the guard nor cause pursuit.
Rol. At once I trust thy word — A feeling boldness in those eyes assures me that thy soul is noble.
Elv. What is thy name? Speak freely — By my order the guard is removed beyond the outer porch.
Rol. My name is Rolla.
Elv. The Peruvian leader?
Rol. I was so yesterday — To-day, the Spaniard’s captive.
Elv. And friendship for Alonzo moved thee to this act?
Rol. Alonzo is my friend — I am prepared to die for him. Yet is the cause a motive stronger far than friendship. —
Elv. One only passion else could urge such generous rashness.
Rol. And that is —
Elv. Love?
Rol. True!
Elv. Gallant, ingenuous Rolla! — Know that my purpose here was thine; and were I to save thy friend —
Rol. How! — a woman blessed with gentleness and courage, and yet not Cora’!
Elv. Does Rolla think so meanly of all female hearts? —
Rol. Not so — you are worse and better than we are! —
Elv. Were I to save thee, Rolla, from the tyrant’s vengeance — restore thee to thy native land — and thy native land to peace — wouldst thou not rank Elvira with the good?
Rol. To judge the action, I must know, the means.
Elv. Take this dagger.
Rol. How to be used?
Elv. I will conduct thee to the tent where fell Pizarro sleeps — The scourge of innocence — the terror of thy race — the fiend that desolates thy afflicted country.
Rol. Have you not been injured by Pizarro?
Elv. Deeply as scorn and insult can infuse their deadly venom.
Rol. And you ask that I shall murder him in his sleep!
Elv. Would he not have murdered Alonzo in his chains? He that sleeps, and he that’s bound, are equally defenceless. Hear me, Rolla — so may I prosper in this perilous act, as searching my full heart, I have put by all rancorous motive of private vengeance there, and feel that I advance to my dread purpose in the cause of human nature, and at the call of sacred justice.
Rol. The God of justice sanctifies no evil as a step towards good. Great actions cannot be achieved by wicked means.
Elv. Then, Peruvian! since thou dost feel so coldly for thy country’s wrongs, this hand, though it revolt my soul, shall strike the blow.
Rol. Then is thy destruction certain, and for Peru thou perishest! — Give me the dagger!
Elv. Now follow me; — but first — and dreadful is the hard necessity — you must strike down the guard.
Rol. The soldier who was on duty here?
Elv. Yes, him — else, seeing thee, the alarm will be instant.
Rol. And I must stab that soldier as I pass? — Take back thy dagger.
Elv. Rolla!
Rol. That soldier, mark me, is a man. — All are not men that bear the human form. He refused my prayers — refused my gold — denying to admit me — till his own feelings bribed him. — For my nation’s safety, I would not harm that man!
Eh. Then he must with us — I will answer for his safety. —
Rol. Be that plainly understood between us: — for, whate’er betide our enterprise, I will not risk a hair of that man’s head, to save my heartstrings from consuming fire. — [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Inside of PIZARRO’S Tent. — PIZARRO on a Couch, in disturbed sleep.
Piz. [In his sleep.] No mercy, traitor. — Now at his heart! — Stand off there, you — Let me see him bleed! — Ha! ha! ha! — Let me hear that groan again.
Enter ROLLA and ELVIRA.
Elv. There! — Now, lose not a moment.
Rol. You must leave me now. — This scene of blood fits not a woman’s presence.
Elv. But a moment’s pause may —
Rol. Go! — Retire to your own tent — and return not here — I will come to you — Be thou not known in this business, I implore you!
Elv. I will withdraw the guard that waits.
[Exit ELVIRA.
Rol. Now have I in my power the accursed destroyer of my country’s peace: yet tranquilly he rests — God! — can this man sleep?
Piz. [In his sleep.] Away! away! — Hideous fiends! — Tear not my bosom thus!
Rol. No: — I was in error — the balm of sweet repose he never more can know. — Look here, ambition’s fools! — Ye, by whose inhuman pride the bleeding sacrifice of nations is held as nothing — behold the rest of the guilty! — He is at my mercy — and one blow! — No! — my heart and hand refuse the act: Rolla cannot be an assassin! — Yet Elvira must be saved! [proaches the couch.] Pizarro! awake!
Piz. [Starts up.] Who? — Guard! —
Rol. Speak not — another word is thy death — Call not for aid! — this arm will be swifter than thy guard.
Piz. Who art thou? and what is thy will?
Rol. I am thine enemy! Peruvian Rolla! — Thy death is not my will, or I could have slain thee sleeping.
Piz. Speak, what else?
Rol. Now thou art at my mercy — answer me! Did a Peruvian ever yet wrong or injure thee, or any of thy nation? Didst thou, or any of thy nation, ever yet show mercy to a Peruvian in your power? Now shalt thou feel — and if thou hast a heart, thou’lt feel it keenly! — a Peruvian’s vengeance! [Drops the d
agger at his feet.] There!
Piz. Is it possible! [Walks aside confounded.
Rol. Can Pizarro be surprised at this? I thought forgiveness of injuries had been the Christian’s precept — Thou seest, at least, it is the Peruvian’s practice.
Piz. Rolla, thou hast indeed surprised — subdued me.
[Walks again aside as in irresolute thought.
Re-enter ELVIRA [not seeing PIZARRO.]
Elv. Is it done? Is he dead? [Sees PIZARRO.] HOW! — still living! Then I am lost! And for you, wretched Peruvians! mercy is no more! Oh! Rolla! treacherous, or cowardly?
Piz. How can it be, that —
Rol. Away! Elvira speaks she knows not what! Leave me — [to ELVIRA] — I conjure you, with Pizarro.
Elv. How! — Rolla, dost thou think I shall retract — or that I meanly will deny, that in thy hand I placed a poniard to be plunged into that tyrant’s heart? No: — my sole regret is, that I trusted to thy weakness, and did not strike the blow myself. — Too soon thou’lt learn that mercy to that main is direct cruelty to all thy race!
Piz. Guard! quick! a guard, to seize this frantic woman.
Elv. Yes, a guard! I call them too! And soon I know they’ll lead me to my death. But think not, Pizarro, the fury of thy flashing eyes shall awe me for a moment! — Nor think that woman’s anger, or the feelings of an injured heart, prompted me to this design — No! Had I been only influenced so — thus failing, shame and remorse would weigh me down. But though defeated and destroyed, as now I am, such is the greatness of the cause that urged me, I shall perish, glorying in the attempt, and my last breath of life shall speak the proud avowal of my purpose — to have rescued millions of innocents from the bloodthirsty tyranny of one — by ridding the insulted world of thee.
Rol. Had the act been noble as the motive — Rolla would not have shrunk from its performance.
Enter Guards.
Piz. Seize this discovered fiend, who sought to kill your leader.
Elv. Touch me not, at the peril of your souls; — I am your prisoner, and will follow you. — But thou, their triumphant leader, shalt hear me. Yet, first — for thee, Rolla, accept my forgiveness: even had I been the victim of thy nobleness of heart, I should have admired thee for it — But ’twas myself provoked my doom — Thou wouldst have shielded me. — Let not thy contempt follow me to the grave. Didst thou but know the spell-like arts by which this hypocrite first undermined the virtue of a guileless heart! how, even in the pious sanctuary wherein I dwelt, by corruption and by fraud, he practised upon those in whom I most confided — till my distempered fancy led me, step by step, into the abyss of guilt ——
Delphi Complete Works of Richard Brinsley Sheridan Page 48