and Julian’s faith, His honour broken, and her heart estranged. O, if thou holdest peace or glory dear, Away with jealousy—brave Sisabert, Smite from thy bosom, smite that scorpion down; It swells and hardens amid mildewed hopes, O’erspreads and blackens whate’er most delights, And renders us, haters of loveliness, The lowest of the fiends: ambition led The higher on, furious to disposess, From admiration sprung and phrenzied love. p. 64This disingenuous soul-debasing passion, Rising from abject and most sordid fear, Stings her own breast with bitter self-reproof, Consumes the vitals, pines, and never dies. Love, Honour, Justice, numberless the forms, Glorious and high the stature, she assumes; But watch the wandering changeful mischief well, And thou shalt see her with low lurid light Search where the soul’s most valued treasure lies, Or, more embodied to our vision, stand With evil eye, and sorcery hers alone, Looking away her helpless progeny, And drawing poison from its very smiles. For Julian’s truth have I not pledged my own? Have I not sworne Covilla weds no other?

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Sis. Her persecutor have not I chastized, Have not I fought for Julian, won the town, And liberated thee?

Opas. But left for him The dangers of pursuit, of ambuscade, Of absence from thy high and splendid name.

p. 65Sis. Do probity and truth want such supports?

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Opas. Gryphens and eagles, ivory and gold, Can add no clearness to the lamp above, But many look for them in palaces Who have them not, and want them not, at home. Virtue and valour and experience Are never trusted by themselves alone Further than infancy and idiocy; The men around him, not the man himself, Are looked at, and by these is he prefer’d: ’Tis the green mantle of the warrener And his loud whistle, that alone attract The lofty gazes of the noble herd: And thus, without thy countenance and help, Feeble and faint is still our confidence, Brief perhaps our success.

Sis. Should I resign To Abdalazis her I once adored? He truly, he must wed a Spanish queen! He rule in Spain! ah! whom could any land Obey so gladly as the meek, the humble, p. 66The friend of all who have no friend beside, Covilla! could he choose, or could he find Another who might so confirm his power? And now, indeed, from long domestic wars Who else survives of all our ancient house—

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