Thou placest me, and lighter air I breathe; Why could I not have rested, and heard on! Thy voice dissolves the vision quite away, Outcast from virtue, and from nature too!

Jul. Nature and virtue!—they shall perish first. God destined them for thee, and thee for them, Inseparably and eternally! The wisest and the best will prize thee most, And solitudes and cities will contend p. 36Which shall receive thee kindliest; sigh not so— Violence and fraud will never penetrate Where piety and poverty retire, Intractable to them, and valueless, And look’d at idly, like the face of heaven, If strength be wanted for security, Mountains the guard, forbidding all approach With iron-pointed and uplifted gates, Thou wilt be welcome too in Aguilar—[36] Impenetrable, marble-turreted, Surveying from aloft the limpid ford, The massy fane, the sylvan avenue— Whose hospitality I proved myself, A willing leader in no impious war When fame and freedom urged me—or mayst dwell In Reÿnosas dry and thriftless dale, Unharvested beneath October moons, Amongst those frank and cordial villagers. They never saw us, and, poor simple souls! p. 37So little know they whom they call the great— Would pity one another less than us In injury, disaster, or distress.

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p. 37

Cov. But they would ask each other whence our grief, That they might pity?

Jul. Rest then just beyond, In the secluded scenes where Ebro springs And drives not from his fount the fallen leaf, So motionless and tranquil its repose.

Cov. Thither let us depart, and speedily.

Jul. I cannot go: I live not in the land I have reduced beneath such wretchedness: And who could leave the brave, whose lives and fortunes Hang on his sword?

Cov. Me canst thou leave, my father? Ah. yes, for it is past; too well thou seest My life and fortunes rest not upon thee. Long, happily,—could it be gloriously!— Still mayst thou live, and save thy country still!

p. 38Jul. Unconquerable land! unrivalled race! Whose bravery, too enduring, rues alike The power and weakness of accursed kings— How cruelly hast thou neglected me! Forcing me from thee, never to return, Nor in thy pangs and struggles to partake! I hear a voice—’tis Egilona—come, Recall thy courage, dear unhappy girl, Let us away.

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ACT II. SCENE 3.

Egilona enters.

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