Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 5Bridges, Robert
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Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 5
Bridges, Robert
English drama; English poetry
_Al._ O sire, on my knees
I beg.
_K._ Well, what?
_Al._ His life! his life!
_K._ Ah, traitress.
_Al._ Was not thy first condition hard enough,
To save prince Ferdinand that I should marry
Another? and I consented: but when now
Thou knowest I love him....
_K._ Love him. Thou confessest!
_Al._ I hid it from thee but to save his life;
Now I avow it to save him. If thou’rt wronged, 1580
’Tis I have wronged thee: so if one must die
Let it be me.
_K._ Then perish all of us.
_Al._ Nay, why, when peace hath such a simple way,
When kindness would cure all? If thou wouldst see
How noble he is, how true....
_K._ Silence! speak not
What thou hast dared to think, lest I should curse thee.
I in my house to see God’s holy laws
Reversed; my blood contaminate abroad
With infidels! Fly quickly. What thou hast said
Will keep thee prisoned till thy heart is changed.
Go to thy chamber. I will send thee soon 1591
Physic to cure thee. From my sight! Away,
Traitress, apostate.
_Al._ O father, by thy love....
_K._ Away! away!
_Al._ By all God’s pity I pray thee:
For pity of me.
_K._ Begone, lest I should strike thee.
_Al._ Strike me, and I will bear it. I did the wrong.
Punish me and pardon. I only ask for him,
Take not his life.
_K._ The more thou pleadest for him,
The more I hate him.
_Al._ Heaven will soften thee.
Thou must relent. Thou wilt not slay us both. 1600
_K._ Begone, I say. [_Exit Almeh._
May all the plagues of hell
Torture these Christians evermore. I see
No safe revenge. Kill him? and the worst believed?
And he my hope of Ceuta? I cannot kill him.
It needs considerate action. Hola there. (_Calling._)
I’ll speak with Sala. Hola there, hola!
_Enter Servant._
Bid Sala attend me here. [_Exit servant._
And if he blame me,
Because I harked not to him at the first,
He will not thwart my resolution now,
When policy and revenge are bound together. 1610
’Tis changed. The Christian now hath done a wrong,
For which his death is due: I have my plan:
I’ll starve him till he yield. I’ll force him to it
By chains and torture till his stubborn pride
Pay down his ransom humbly.
_Re-enter Sala._
_Sa._ Peace be with you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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