passion and illusion and deceit.

Sis. I boast not that I never was deceived, Covilla, which beyond all boasts were base, p. 28Nor that I never loved; let this be thine. Illusions! just to stop us, not delay, Amuse, not occupy!—too true! when love Scatters its brilliant foam, and passes on To some fresh object in its natural course, Widely and openly and wanderingly, ’Tis better! narrow it, and it pours its gloom In one fierce cataract that stuns the soul. Ye hate the wretch ye make so, while ye choose Whoever knows you best and shuns you most.

p. 28

Cov. Shun me then: be beloved, more and more. Honour the hand that showed you honour first, Love—O my father! speak, proceed, persuade, Thy voice alone can utter it—another.

Sis. Ah lost Covilla! can a thirst of power Alter thy heart, thus, to abandon mine, And change my very nature at one blow.

Cov. I told you, dearest Sisabert, ’twas vain To urge me more, to question, or confute.

Sis. I know it—for another wears the crown Of Witiza my father; who succeeds p. 29To king Roderigo will succeed to me. Yet thy cold perfidy still calls me dear, And o’er my aching temples breathes one gale Of days departed to return no more.

p. 29

Jul. Young man, avenge our cause.

Sis. What cause avenge?

Cov. If I was ever dear to you, hear me. Not vengeance; Heaven will give that signal soon. O Sisabert, the pangs I have endured On your long absence—

Sis. Will be now consoled. Thy father comes to mount my father’s throne; But though I would not an usurper king, I prize his valour and defend his crown: No stranger, and no traitor, rules o’er me, Or unchastized inveigles humbled Spain. Covilla, gavest thou no promises? Nor thou, Don Julian? Seek not to reply— Too well I know, too justly I despise, Thy false excuse, thy coward effrontery; Yes, when thou gavest them across the sea, p. 30An enemy wert thou to Mahomet, And no appellant to his faith or leagues.

p. 30

Jul. ’Tis well: a soldier hears, throughout, in silence. I urge no answer: to those 

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