_Caesa._ You dare not: no, you dare not. Nay, start not. I but know my power and use it. Look on these lips and eyes; they are Victoria's. And shall Victoria's lips be sealed forever? And shall Victoria's eyes be closed in death? E'en while you rage, with looks so fond you eye me, They speak, your love will guaranty your silence. _Orsi._ 'Tis true, too true: but dear and cruel boy, Though threats succeed not, let these tears prevail, Tears for thy dying virtue. Oh look round thee! See to mankind what curses bad kings are, And learn from them the blessings of a good one. _Caesa._ Father, in vain you urge me. Know I've sworn Alfonso's death. My mother's shade demands it. Who asked that promise, with an oath confirmed. And what she asked I gave. _Orsi._ Oh! Wherefore did'st thou? Since she required an oath to seal thy promise, Thou shouldst have known thy promise must be wrong. Virtue and truth are in themselves convincing, Nor need the feeble sanction of man's lips; As the sun needs no aid from foreign orbs, Itself a fire-formed world of light and glory. What meant thine oath? What meant those magic words? Save by thy lips to bind thy hand to do What makes each wise head shake, each good heart shudder. Thy impious vow---- _Caesa._ Impious or just, once sworn, To break it sure were shame. _Orsi._ My son, 'twere virtue, When to perform it were the worst of crimes, 'Twas wrong to swear; be with that wrong contented. A second fault cannot make right the first; And acts of guilt absolve no act of folly. _Caesa._ Guilt! Then we jar for words. I see but glory Where thou seest guilt: yet call it what thou wilt. I _may_ be guilty, but I _must_ be great. _Orsi._ A dreadful word! _Caesa._ A crown, a crown invites me! A glorious crown! _Orsi._ Glorious! Oh no! True glory Is not to _wear_ a crown but to _deserve_ one. The peasant swain who leads a good man's life, And dies at last a good man's death, obtains In Wisdom's eye wreaths of far brighter splendour Than he whose wanton pride and thirst for empire Make kings his captives, and lay waste a world. _Caesa._ And is't not glorious then to bless my country By just and gentle ruling; fight her battles; Preserve her laws---- _Orsi._ Thou, thou preserve her laws---- Thou fight her battles! thou--I tell thee, boy, The hand which serves its country should be pure. Ambition, selfish love, vain lust of power Ravage thy head and heart! and would'st thou hold The judgment balance with a hand still red With royal blood? Would'st thou dare speak a penance On guilt, thyself so guilty? Canst thou hope Castile will trust her to thee? God forbid! Mad is that nation, mad past thought of cure, Past chains and dungeons, whips, spare food, and fasting, Who yields the immortal man a patriot's name, And looks in private vice for public virtue. Thou play the patriot's part! Away, away! Who _wounds_ his country is the worst of monsters; But good men only should _presume_ to _serve_ her. Thy guilt once seen----