Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

THE WARNING.

BEWARE! The Israelite of old, who tore
The lion in his path, when, poor and blind,
He saw the blessed light of heaven no more,
Shorn of his noble strength and forced to grind
In prison, and at last led forth to be
A pander to Philistine revelry, -

Upon the pillars of the temple laid

His desperate hands, and in its overthrow
Destroyed himself, and with him those who made
A cruel mockery of his sightless woe;

The poor, blind Slave, the scoff and jest of all,
Expired, and thousands perished in the fall!

There is a poor, blind Samson in this land,

Shorn of his strength, and bound in bonds of steel, Who may, in some grim revel, raise his hand, And shake the pillars of this Commonweal,

Till the vast-Temple of our liberties

A shapeless mass of wreck and rubbish lies.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

SCENE I. The COUNT OF LARA's chambers. Night. The COUNT in his dressing-gown, smoking and conversing with DON CARLOS.

LARA.

You were not at the play to-night, Don Carlos;

How happened it?

Pray who was there?

DON CARLOS.

I had engagements elsewhere.

LARA.

Why, all the town and court. The house was crowded; and the busy fans Among the gayly dressed and perfumed ladies Fluttered like butterflies among the flowers. There was the Countess of Medina Celi; The Goblin Lady with her Phantom Lover, Her Lindo Don Diego; Doña Sol, And Doña Serafina, and her cousins.

What was the play?

DON CARLOS.

LARA.

It was a dull affair;

One of those comedies in which you see,

As Lope says, the history of the world

Brought down from Genesis to the Day of Judgment. There were three duels fought in the first act,

Three gentlemen receiving deadly wounds, Laying their hands upon their hearts, and saying, "O, I am dead!" a lover in a closet,

An old hidalgo, and a gay Don Juan,

A Doňa Inez with a black mantilla,

Followed at twilight by an unknown lover,
Who looks intently where he knows she is not!

DON CARLOS.

Of course, the Preciosa danced to-night?

LARA.

And never better. Every footstep fell
As lightly as a sunbeam on the water.
I think the girl extremely beautiful.

DON CARLOS.

Almost beyond the privilege of woman!
I saw her in the Prado yesterday.
Her step was royal, — queen-like,
As beautiful as a saint's in Paradise.

LARA.

May not a saint fall from her Paradise,
And be no more a saint?

DON CARLOS.

and her face

Why do you ask?

LARA.

Because I have heard it said this angel fell,
And, though she is a virgin outwardly,
Within she is a sinner; like those panels
Of doors and altar-pieces the old monks
Painted in convents, with the Virgin Mary
On the outside, and on the inside Venus!

DON CARLOS.

You do her wrong; indeed, you do her wrong!
She is as virtuous as she is fair.

LARA.

How credulous you are! Why look you, friend,
There's not a virtuous woman in Madrid,
In this whole city! And would you persuade me
That a mere dancing-girl, who shows herself,
Nightly, half-naked, on the stage, for money,
And with voluptuous motions fire's the blood
Of inconsiderate youth, is to be held
A model for her virtue?

[blocks in formation]

DON CARLOS.

Nay, not to be won at all!

The only virtue that a Gipsy prizes
Is chastity. That is her only virtue.
Dearer than life she holds it. I remember
A Gipsy woman, a vile, shameless bawd,
Whose craft was to betray the young and fair;
And yet this woman was above all bribes.
And when a noble lord, touched by her beauty,
The wild and wizard beauty of her race,
Offered her gold to be what she made others,
She turned upon him, with a look of scorn,
And smote him in the face!

LARA.

And does that prove

That Preciosa is above suspicion?

DON CARLOS.

It proves a nobleman may be repulsed
When he thinks conquest easy. I believe
That woman, in her deepest degradation,
Holds something sacred, something undefiled,
Some pledge and keepsake of her higher nature,
And, like the diamond in the dark, retains
Some quenchless gleam of the celestial light!

[blocks in formation]

'Tis late. I must begone, for if I stay You will not be persuaded.

« ПредишнаНапред »