_Raym._ Mark who defraud their offspring, you or I? For know, there yet survives the lawful heir Of Sancho's blood, whom when I shall produce, I rest assured to see you pale with fear, And trembling at his name. _Tor._ He must be more than man, who makes me tremble. I dare him to the field, with all the odds Of justice on his side, against my tyrant: Produce your lawful prince, and you shall see How brave a rebel love has made your son. _Raym._ Read that; 'tis with the royal signet signed, And given me, by the king, when time should serve, To be perused by you. _Tor._ [_Reads._] _I, the king. My youngest and alone surviving son, Reported dead, to escape rebellious rage, Till happier times shall call his courage forth, To break my fetters, or revenge my fate, I will that Raymond educate as his, And call him Torrismond--_ If I am he, that son, that Torrismond, The world contains not so forlorn a wretch! Let never man believe he can be happy! For, when I thought my fortune most secure, One fatal moment tears me from my joys; And when two hearts were joined by mutual love, The sword of justice cuts upon the knot, And severs them for ever. _Raym._ True, it must. _Tor._ O, cruel man, to tell me that it must! If you have any pity in your breast, Redeem me from this labyrinth of fate, And plunge me in my first obscurity. The secret is alone between us two; And, though you would not hide me from myself, O, yet be kind, conceal me from the world, And be my father still! _Raym._ Your lot's too glorious, and the proof's too plain. Now, in the name of honour, sir, I beg you,-- Since I must use authority no more,-- On these old knees, I beg you, ere I die, That I may see your father's death revenged. _Tor._ Why, 'tis the only business of my life; My order's issued to recall the army, And Bertran's death's resolved. _Raym._ And not the queen's? O, she's the chief offender! Shall justice turn her edge within your hand? No, if she 'scape, you are yourself the tyrant, And murderer of your father. _Tor._ Cruel fates! To what have you reserved me? _Raym._ Why that sigh? _Tor._ Since you must know,--but break, O break, my heart, Before I tell my fatal story out!-- The usurper of my throne, my house's ruin! The murderer of my father,--is my wife! _Raym._ O horror, horror!--After this alliance, Let tigers match with hinds, and wolves with sheep, And every creature couple with his foe. How vainly man designs, when heaven opposes! I bred you up to arms, raised you to power, Permitted you to fight for this usurper, Indeed to save a crown, not hers, but yours, All to make sure the vengeance of this day, Which even this day has ruined. One more question Let me but ask, and I have done for ever;-- Do you yet love the cause of all your woes, Or is she grown, as sure she ought to be, More odious to your sight than toads and adders? _Tor._ O there's the utmost malice of my fate, That I am bound to hate, and born to love!