Leo. I am rejoiced to see you so recovered.
Hen. I thank you, Lady; let your guests receive
Your present courtesies. Where are the minstrels ?
Let them strike up a dance: we are too still.

Leo. Doubt not we shall be gay; but we expect
Some merry masquers here to join our revels;
They should have come ere now.

Hen. Wait ye for such? Are they not come already?
Leo. How so, my Lord?

The world is full of them :

Who knows the honest unclothed worth of those

That by your side may stand, drink from your cup,

Or in your bosom lie? We are all masquers.

King. Your wine has cheered you to a gibing humour;

You are severe, my Lord, on this poor world.

Hen. If I have said amiss, e'en let it pass:

A foolish rev'ller may at random speak :

Who heeds his idle words?-Music, strike up.

The King retires with Henriquez to the bottom of the stage, and the guests prepare to dance, when a servant rushes in, and cries

A murder'd body near the castle lies,

But newly slain; and they who found it swear
(For well they know his form and countenance),
It is Don Juen's body.

Leonora sinks on the floor, intently gazed at by Henriquez, who then says he will go to look at the body; but obeys the command of the King to spare himself such dismal sight, and as

"The banquet to a funeral wake is turned,"

the assemblage breaks up, and all is

horror.

Henriquez has shut himself up in his chamber; and Leonora, attributing such seclusion partly to grief for the miserable death of Juen, and partly to want of affection for herself, implores Carlos to make her peace with her afflicted and offended husband.

Car. Nay, charming Leonora, urge him not:
He will admit thee when he is disposed
For soothing sympathy; to press it soonner
Were useless-were unwise.

Leon. Yet go to him; he will, perhaps, to thee,
So long his fellow-soldier and his friend,
Unburthen his sad heart.

His fellow-soldier

Car. You are in this deceived.
I long have been. In the same fields we've fought;
Slept in one tent, or on the rugged heath,
Wrapt in our soldier's cloaks, have, side by side,
Stretch'd out our weary length like savage beasts
In the same cheerless lair; and many a time,
When the dim twilight of our evening camp
Has by my foolish minstrelsy been cheer'd,
He has bent o'er me, pleased with the old strains
That pleased him when a boy; therefore
As common phrase permits, be called his friend.
But there existed one, and only one,

To whom his mind, with all its nice reserve

Above the sympathies of common men,

may,

He freely could unfold; and having lost him,
Can I intrude upon his private thoughts
Like one who would supply a vacant place?

His heart, I know it well, would from such boldness
Revolt, even with disgust.

Leo. Yet Juen's death did seem to move him less
Than such dear friendship might have warranted.
Car. It was his custom to restrain his looks
When strongly moved, or shun all observation.
Leo. And I am now become that humble thing,-
A wife shut out from equal confidence!
Balthazer, Juen's secretary, arrives
at the castle, with papers, and re-
quests to see its lord. These papers
are the last will of Juen de Torva,
in which he bequeaths "to my be-
loved, my early, my only friend, Don
Henriquez D'Altavera, the whole
of my lands, my castles, my depen-
dencies, my treasures, to be possessed
by him and his heirs for ever; and
for as much as I have more con-
fidence in the wisdom and generous

propriety of his judgment than my own, I leave those whose names (also by mine own hand) are herein written, to be provided for, as he, thinking and acting for me when I shall no longer be able to think and act for myself, shall deem right. These, with the last love and blessing of my heart, I bequeath to him; desiring that my poor earthly remains may be laid in the same spot where he himself shall be interred." "Hen. You mentioned other deeds. Bal. Yes, good my lord; intrusted to my keeping, Here is besides a marriage contract made Between himself and the fair Mencia." Even from these extracts it will be felt how powerfully the distressful interest is sustained, and how natu

rally; and though we confess that we are far from being skilled in the mystery of stage-effect, we cannot

help thinking that such scenes would tell in representation. And are we

mistaken in believing that what follows would agitate any audience? What did'st thou say?

Hen. (starting from his chair with violent gesture).
The sister of my wife?

Say it again; I know not what thou said'st.

Balt. It is, my Lord, a mariage-contract made
Between himself and Donna Mencia,

The sister of your wife; to whom by stealth,
The Lady being somewhat disinclined,

He has of late made frequent visits; hoping

Last night, with her consent, to have surprised you,
When as a masquer he should join the guests,

By asking from your love a brother's blessing.

[HENRIQUEZ falls back into his chair, uttering a deep groan. Leonora (rushing to him in great alarm). Alas! so strong an agony is here, The band of death is on him.

Carlos. 'T is but the pitch and crisis of his grief:

Be not alarm'd; he will recover presently.

[DIEGO, coming forward, speaks aside to LEONORA.

Diego. Bid all withdraw, and be with him alone

When he recovers.

Leo. (aside).

How when he recovers?

Alone with him! I know not what thou mean'st.

Diego (speaking to her aloud). My Lord has from his youth been thus

affected,

When press'd by grief; I've seen him so before.

And when the fit goes off, I've known him also
Utter wild ravings. Solitude and stillness

Are necessary. Pardon me this boldness.
Leo. Thou'st seen him thus before?

Diego. It is a natural infirmity:

Let all retire and leave him.

Leo. (motions all to retire but CARLOS). Don Carlos will remain. [To DIEGO.
Diego. None but yourself, I do beseech you, Madam;

And I will watch by you till he recover.

[Exeunt all but DIEGO, LEONORA, and HENRIQUEZ, who, while she hangs over him, groans as before.

Leo. That groan again! My dear-my dear Henriquez !

Alas! that look! thine agony is great :

That motion too. (He rises). Why dost thou stare around?
We are alone; surely thou wilt not leave me.

Where wouldst thou be?

Hen.

I' the blackest gulf of hell;

The deepest den of misery and pain;

Woe bound to woe-the cursed with the cursed!

Leo. What horrible words, if they have any meaning!

If they have none, most piteous !—

Henriquez; O, my Lord!-My noble husband!

I thought not thou would'st e'er have look'd on me
As thou hast done, with such an eye of sternness.

Alas! and had'st thou nothing dear on earth

But him whom thou hast lost?

Hen. I had, I had! thy love was true and virtuous.

And so it is thy hand upon my breast. (Pressing her hand, which she has

:

laid upon his breast.)

I feel it-O how dear!

Would thou wert false!

(Is about to kiss it, but casts it from him.) It must not be!

Would grinding contumely

Had bowed me to the earth-worn from my mind

The very sense and nature of a man!

Faithful to me! Go, loose thee from my side;

Thy faithfulness is agony ineffable,

It makes me more accursed. Cling not to me;
To taste the slightest feeling of thy love

Were base were monstrous now.-Follow me not!
The ecstasy of misery spurns all pity.

Diego. And do not follow him; O do not, Madam!
This fearful fit will soon exhaust its strength,
And leave his reason free.

Leo. God grant it may! It is a fearful fit.
But thou thyself look'st strangely, and thy visage
Seems haggard with a passing consciousness-
Thou dost not think-

Diego.

No, no! what should I think?

Retire to your apartment; I mean time
Will watch my Lord, that none may cross his way
Till he be safely lodged within his chamber.

The heart of Leonora has been quieted in respect to her husband's love, but is invaded by other still more distracting apprehensions-by suspicions she dare not think of, but cannot banish; she is alarmed to hear that Balthazer, Juen's secretary, has suddenly departed for Zamora, perhaps to seek an audience of the King. Mean while, Antonio, Mencia's lover, whom she had been prevailed on by her more ambitious sister to

ACT III.

[Exil.

[Exeunt.

give up, has been seized when lurk-
ing in a wood near the castle, and is
charged with the murder of his suc-
In his confusion he
cessful rival.
utters some words that seem to in-
volve a confession of his guilt-it is
a relief to Leonora's misery to be.
lieve him guilty-and he is thrown
into the dungeon. But before we
look at him there, we again behold
Henriquez and his remorse.

SCEN

The Burying Vault of the Castle, with Monuments of the Dead; and near the front of the Stage, a new-covered Grave, seen by the light of a lamp placed on a neighbouring Tomb, the Stage being otherwise dark. A solemn Requiem for the Dead is heard at a distance, sounding from above. As it draws to a close, HENRIQUEZ appears at the farther end of the Vault with a light in his hand, which he holds out from him, as if in search of some object, and, seeing the grave, casts the light from his hand, and rushes towards it.

Hen. (after gazing some time on the grave). And here thou liest with all thy noble parts,

Thy lofty, liberal soul, and goodly form,

And heart of love so thorough and so true!

This is thy rest, the meed and recompense

Thy generous worth hath from thy friend received!

Thy friend! O savage heart and cruel hand!

Fell, hateful, faithless, cowardly, and base!

Of every baleful thing, by Heaven cast off,

Most cursed and miserable!—

O that ere this the dust had cover'd me

Like a crush'd snake, whose sting is yet unsheath'd!
Would in the bloody trench some sabred Moor
Had lanced this hold of life-this latent seat
Of cruelty! or rather that some dart,

Shot erring in our days of boyish sport,
Had pierced its core! Then by my early grave
He had shed over me a brother's tears;

He had sat there and wept and mourn'd for me,
When from all human thoughts but his alone,
All thoughts of me had been extinguish'd. Juen!
My Juen, dear, dear friend! Juen de Torva!

Thy name is on my lips, as it was wont;
Thine image in my heart like stirring life;

Thy form upon my fancy like that form

Which bless'd my happy days. How he would look,
When with his outspread arms, as he return'd
After some absence!-Oh, it tortures me!

Let any image cross my mind but this!

No, no! not this! Sable, sepulchral gloom!

i

Embody to my sight some terrible thing,
And I will brave it (pausing and looking round).
It doth! it doth! there's form and motion in it.
Advance, thou awful shade, whate'er thou art.

Those threat'ning gestures say thou art not Juen. (Rubbing his eyes).
It was but fancy.-No; the soul to Him

Who is the Soul of souls ascended hath,

Dust to its dust return'd. There is nought here

But silent rest, that can be roused no more.
Beneath this mould, some few spans deep, he lies.
So near me, though conceal'd!-Cursed as I am,
The cords of love, even through this earth have power,
Like a strong charm, to draw me to him still.

Burst, guilty heart! rend every nerve of life,
And be resolved to senseless clay like this,
So to enlap his dearer clay for ever.

Enter CARLOS.

(Casting himself upon the grave).

Carlos. (looking round him). He is not here: nought see I through the gloom,

Save the cold marble of those tombs which, touch'd

With the wan light of yon sepulchral lamp,

Show their scroll'd ends to the uncertain sight,

Like shrouded bodies rising from the earth. (Going towards the grave).
Ha! something stirring on the new-raised earth!

It is Henriquez, wrapped in frantic sorrow. (Advancing to him).
Henriquez! hear'st thou not, noble Henriquez ?

Nay, nay! rise from the earth-such frantic grief
Doth not become a man, and least of all,

A man whose firm endurance of misfortune

Has hitherto so graced his noble worth.

Givest thou no answer but these heavy groans?
Thou canst not from the tomb recall the dead,
But rouse thy spirit to revenge his death.

Hen. (raising his head). What said'st thou ?
Carlos.

Quit this dismal bed of death,

And rouse thee to revenge thy murder'd friend.

Hen. He is revenged; Heaven deals with guilt so monstrous.
The band of man is nothing.

Carlos. Ay, but the hand of man shall add its mite.

(Taking hold of his hand to raise him).

Up from the earth! I've found the murderer,

Hen. (springing up fiercely, and seizing him by the throat). Lay'st thou thy

hand on me! What is or is not,

The God of Heaven doth know, and he alone.

Darest thou with mortal breath bestow that name

To the dishonour of a noble house,

Should brave Castilians

On one of ancient princely lineage born?
Carlos. Let go thy frenzied grasp!
Thus grapple hand to hand, like angry boys?
Fit time and place shall justify my words,
If they indeed offend.-Our watch hath seized
In hiding near the castle, most suspiciously,
A youth who hath to Mencia's love pretended,
Whose hand we cannot doubt hath done the deed;
But if he be of such high lineage born,

'Tis more than he hath claim'd or we will credit.
Why drop your arms thus listless by your side?
Your eyes upon the ground? Will you not go
And see the prisoner, and hear him question'd?
Hen. Ay, ay, this is required-I'll go with thee;
I comprehend thee now.

Carlos.

And yet thou movest not.

Does any sudden pain arrest thy steps?
Hen. I am benumb'd and faint.-I'll follow thee.

[Exeunt.