# Dramas (Baillie)/Henriquez/Act 4

ACT IV.
SCENE I.—A Prison in the Castle. Antonio discovered disconsolate near the Front of the Stage. A high Door at the Bottom, with Stairs from it, leading down into the Prison.
ANTONIO (after shifting his posture several times, and sighing heavily, raises his eyes on hearing the door open gently).
By oft-repeated questions, to betray
A spent, enfeebled mind into confession?
It is a woman! it is Mencia's self!
Enter Mencia, descending the steps into the prison.
And comest thou to visit me, to bless
My dismal prison-house with what were bliss
Ev'n in the lowest state of human misery?
Sweet Mencia! thou hast pity on me then.
Pity embedded lies where love hath been,
And love again doth from that pity spring,
As the dropp'd seed of some fair faded flower
Shoots its sheath'd bud from the cleft mould, first peeping
In timid beauty, after April showers,
Then swelling, bursting, spreading its soft leaves
To the free air, more fragrant than before.
Yes, I am happy, gentle Mencia,
In spite of fate, if thou still carest for me.
MENCIA.
Ev'n but to look upon thee, wretched man!
Take this disguise; it will insure escape.
There is a faithful friend who waits without,
And by the postern will direct thy flight.
Speak not, but throw these weeds about thee quickly;
ANTONIO.
To save my life—to save a murderer's life?
MENCIA.
That bloody deed I know hath been the act
Of frenzied passion: in some foreign land
Live and repent: Heaven grant thee grace for this!
Let not man's hand, the brand of public shame,
Be on thy wretched head.
ANTONIO.
Falls on the guilty head, by Heaven's appointment.
Thou riskest the salvation of thy soul
In aiding my escape; and for my life,
If of thy love bereft, I care not whether
The headsman's axe, or the slow hand of nature,
Shall rid me of it. Nay; the first were best.
MENCIA.
(Attempting to kneel, but prevented by him.)
If I offend in this, Heaven will forgive me:
For, oh! if thou art lost, I am most wretched.
My misery or peace hangs on thy life;
Therefore, upon my bended knees, I beg.
(Sinking from his hold to the ground.)
'Tis for myself I plead; fly instantly.
ANTONIO (raising her).
For a foul criminal,—a man of blood?
What, then, had been thy care—may I not say—
What, then, had been thy love,—had he been innocent?
MENCIA.
I had defied the world, with all its lures,
Again to sever us. Yet, as thou art——
ANTONIO.
Than the devoted care of many years.
Come, then, defy the world to sever us,
My generous Mencia; I am innocent.
MENCIA.
And say'st thou truly so? Hast thou not done it?
Is it no mockery of joy? O no!
That look, that smile! Yes, thou art innocent;
And, Heaven be praised, thou art.
ANTONIO.
And though some circumstances do at present
Accuse me strongly, yet, I trust in Heaven,
That on my trial so it will appear.
MENCIA.
Made savage by despair, will have a victim,
And catch with eagerness at every proof,
How slight soe'er it be. Fly; quickly fly,
And I will follow thee and share thy fortune,
Or be it good or ill.
ANTONIO.
My heart throbs at the thought, but cannot thank thee.
And thou wilt follow me and share my fortune,
Or good or ill!
Ah! what of good can with a skulking outlaw
In his far wand'rings, or his secret haunts,
E'er be? O no! thou shalt not follow me.
MENCIA.
In every spot; and for the wand'ring outlaw,
The very sweetest nooks o' the earth are his.
And be his passing home the goatherd's shed,
The woodman's branchy hut, or fisher's cove,
Whose pebbly threshold by the rippling tide
Is softly washed, he may contented live,
Ay, thankfully; fed like the fowls of heaven
With daily food sent by a Father's hand.
ANTONIO (pressing both her hands to his heart, and then kissing them).
Far different is the hapless outlaw's home
From what thy gentle fancy fashioneth.
With lawless men he must protection find.
Some murky cavern where the light of day
Hath never peer'd—where the pitch'd brand, instead,
Sheds its red glare on the wild revelry
Of fierce banditti; or the pirate's bark,
Where stalks the sabred ruffian o'er the deck,
Watching his distant prey—some home-bound ship,
With all its stores and freight of precious souls,
Who ne'er shall greet their native shores again,
Must be his guilty home.
MENCIA.
ANTONIO.
Sever'd from thee I will not live, sweet love,
Nor shalt thou be the mate of one disgraced, And by the good disowned. Here I'll remain,
And Heaven will work for me a fair deliv'rance.
MENCIA.
Are sent to thee by Heaven. Be not so stubborn!
With or without me fly, even as thou wilt,
But do not linger here.
(Looking to the door, on hearing it move.)
The door—O misery! we are surprised.
It is Henriquez; Heaven have pity on us!
Enter Henriquez, while Mencia shrinks behind Antonio.
HENRIQUEZ (advancing).
MENCIA (rushing forward).
Turn not away from me, noble Henriquez.
(Catching hold of him eagerly.)
Heaven knows that he is innocent,
HENRIQUEZ.
MENCIA.
HENRIQUEZ.
Thou art the baleful cause of all this misery,
And yet I blame thee not. Away, and leave us.
ANTONIO.
It is not fit that thou should'st tarry here.
HENRIQUEZ.
Thine innocence asserted with the earnest
And simple manliness of truth; yet truth,
Supported only by the word of him
Who is accused, will nought avail. How is it?
If there be any circumstance that may
Support or prove thy words, I do entreat thee
To tell me freely, and I will, with speed,
Use every means that may unfold it fully
To aid thy exculpation. (Pauses.) Is there none?
Bethink thee well: how slight soever it be,
It may to others lead of more import.
ANTONIO.
HENRIQUEZ.
ANTONIO.
I have been hid; unseen of every one
But Mencia, and those hinds who did pursue me.
What circumstance can then avail me? No;
Heaven, in its justice, will unfold the truth;
In this I put my trust; proofs I have none.
HENRIQUEZ.
Fly, save thy life. (Offering a purse.) This will procure the means, When thou hast clear'd the precincts of the forest.
All now is still, and favours thy escape.
ANTONIO.
I thank your gen'rous care. But, Don Henriquez,
Though born of blood less noble than your own,
An outlaw's fate, from friends and country banish'd,
My honest fame blurr'd with imputed guilt,
Is not deliv'rance such as I accept,
Such as a true Castilian can accept,
You offer it in pity of my youth,
Therefore I thank you; but I'll here abide
Such vindication as becomes mine honour.
HENRIQUEZ.
A malefactor's death, the public gaze,
The scaffold's open shame, the executioner,
All the degrading ministry of death;
Even that which so attainteth noble blood
That ages wear not out th' abhorr'd blot,
Disgracing all thy line? Ay, think of this:
It makes me shudder as I utter it,
Who have in battle faced all dreadful things.
ANTONIO.
A ghastly hue of horror. How is this,
That such strong sympathy should move you so?
You think me guiltless in the very front
Of proof that should condemn me: then, belike,
Some shrewd suspicion of the actual hand
That did th' accursed deed lurks in your mind.
HENRIQUEZ.
ANTONIO.
To do me service cam'st thou here, and sacred
Is all that thou in privacy hast done
Or utter'd. Yea; though thou shouldst now confess
That thou thyself were Juen's murderer
(Start not, these are but words of argument);
Yea; ev'n supposing this, and that my rescue
From the uplifted axe depended on it.
Yet would I not betray thee.
HENRIQUEZ (turning away haughtily).
Say, is there aught that thou wouldst have me do?
ANTONIO.
As youthful folly prompts rest on my mind,
Yet would my soul, shrived by some holy man,
His ghostly counsel take, and be at peace.
HENRIQUEZ.
To such as thou give peace. O could it also——
I know an aged friar, wise and prudent:
Thou shalt be satisfied.[Exit.
ANTONIO (after following him with his eye as he ascends the stair at the bottom of the stage).
A thing at strife with all consistent thoughts,
I could believe——No; 't is impossible.
(Retires to the bottom of the stage, and the scene closes.)
SCENE II.
An Antichamber.
Enter Carlos and Friar by opposite Sides.
CARLOS.
Whom come you to confess?
FRIAR.
CARLOS.
Which he denies to every one besides?
FRIAR.
CARLOS.
In thy long course of ghostly ministry,
Have in thine ear been pour'd! By this good hand,
But that I did prefer the jointed mail
And weapon's stroke to haircloth and the scourge,
The roar of battle to the chaunting choir,
I had become a friar, to learn, like thee, All those dark mysteries of human nature
To which thy mind is conscious.
FRIAR.
Pardon my words; thou talk'st in ignorance.
A tale of guilt, wrung from the sinner's soul,
Strikes not the fancy like a winter's tale
Of moonlight witchery, or murder done
I' th' secret chamber. No; a counter sympathy
Doth quell the fancy then. Thou speak'st in ignorance.
CARLOS.
I will attend you to the gate.
FRIAR.
I'm summon'd: Don Henriquez waits for me.
CARLOS.
FRIAR.
CARLOS.
He did not sooner think of ghostly comfort.
FRIAR.
But when I came, capricious in his sorrow,
He would not see me.
CARLOS.
For the indulgence of such frantic grief,
So wayward, so excessive. May God bless thee!
[Exit Friar.
Here comes our keen and fiery secretary.
Enter Balthazer.
Return'd so soon! And hath the royal ear
Inclin'd to thy petition?
BALTHAZER.
At my command must open gate and hold, Chamber and bower; even the sepulchral vault,
Whose sable scutcheon'd door hath not for years
Upon its hinges jarr'd, must be unlock'd,
And show its secrets to the searching light.
But as I learn you have secured the murderer,
I am content; here ends my brief commission.
I pray you lead me to the prison-house:
I burn to see the wretch.
CARLOS.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Chapel. Henriquez discovered on his Knees by the Confessional, the Friar bending over him, and muttering Words in a low Voice.
FRIAR (aloud).
Repentance, and these penances endured,
Will gain from heavenly grace full absolution
Of this most guilty deed—of all thy sins.
But by their own untoward disbelief,
The greatest sin of all. Thou smit'st thy breast.
And shak'st thy drooping head: thou must not doubt.
All sin is finite, mercy infinite;
Why shouldst thou doubt that God will pardon thee?
HENRIQUEZ.
Who truly do repent; and O how truly,
How deeply, how intensely I repent!
But in my breast there is a goading sense,
An inward agony, a power repelling
In dire abhorrence every better thought.
The bliss of heaven for me! incongruous hope!
My soul, my fancy, yea my very will
Is link'd to misery; and happiness
Comes to my thoughts like gleams of painful day
To owls and bats, and things obscene and hateful,
Fitted by nature for their dismal dens.
O that I were like such! in the reft rock
Of some dank mine coil'd up, dull and unconscious
Of the loud hammer's sound, whose coming stroke
Should crush me from existence!
FRIAR.
HENRIQUEZ.
A nest of stinged scorpions hath become,
And only fit for such. Each recollection,
Each waking fancy, like a barbed fang,
Pierces its core with thrilling agony,
Which yields to a succeeding, sharper sting,
And that again to others keener still.
So kind, so dear, such manly, true affection!
Friendship so pure! such noble confidence!
Love that surmounted all things! When, in passion,
I did an outrage on his fiery blood,
What would have hurl'd on any other head
The instant stroke of death—he only waited——
FRIAR.
HENRIQUEZ.
Then smiled—O such an upbraiding smile!
Open'd his arms, and clasp'd me to his heart.
That smile, those open'd arms, I see them now,—
I see them constantly; where'er I turn,
They front me like a vision of delight
Changed to a gorgon terror.
But no restraining love did plead for him:
As though he had some faithless rav'ller been,
All base suggestions were received against him,
Were cherish'd, brooded on, by dint of thought
Work'd to a semblance of consistent truth,
Which, but for this——Base, black ingratitude!
Passing all crimes, detested, monstrous!
(Beating his forehead violently as he strides rapidly away.)
FRIAR.
Which leads not to that humble true repentance
Our holy church enjoins.
HENRIQUEZ (returning).
With accusation of defiance fairly
Preceding vengeance; but unheard, i' th' dark!
Tremble, ye venerable roofs, ye towers
Of my brave fathers, men without reproach!
Fall on my cursed head, and grind to dust
What bears the honour'd semblance of their son,
Although unmeet to bear the human form.
FRIAR.
For thy soul's weal is most unprofitable.
Betake thyself betimes to prayer and penance.
The sufferings of the body will relieve
The suff'rings of the mind.
HENRIQUEZ.
Pacing the armory where hangs the mail
Which Juen wore, when in Tolosa's field
We fought the turban'd Moslems side by side;
It was his gift, which I did beg of him,
In the proud joy I felt at his high deeds.
How swell'd my heart! A braver knight in arms
Fought not that day. Bold heart and potent hand,
And lofty mien and eyes that flash'd with valour.
Where run my words? I have forgot their drift.
FRIAR.
HENRIQUEZ.
I struck my hand, in vehemence of action,
On a spik'd shield, nor knew till afterwards, When the wild fit was past, and oozing blood
Loaded my clammy touch, that in my flesh
The broken iron was sheath'd.
No; what can corporeal pain or penance do?
That which inflicts the mental wound, which rends
The hold of pride, wrenching the bent of nature;
'T is that alone hath power. Yet from the effort
Nature starts back; my mind, stunn'd at the thought,
Loses the use of thought.
FRIAR.
HENRIQUEZ.
FRIAR.
And lack repose; retire a while, my son.
Hark! on the walls without, do you not hear
The warder's call to note the rising morn?
HENRIQUEZ.
The redd'ning sky, the smoking camp, the stir
Of tented sleepers rousing to the call, The snorting steed, in harness newly dight,
Did please my fancy once. Ay; and the sweetness
Of my still native woods, when, through the mist,
They showed at early dawn their stately oaks,
Whose dark'ning forms did gradually appear
Like slow approaching friends, known doubtfully.
These pleased me once in better days; but now
My very soul within me is abhorrent
Of every pleasant thing; and that which cheers
The stirring soldier or the waking hind,
That which the traveller blesses, and the child
Greets with a shout of joy, as from the door
Of his pent cot he issues to the air,
Does but increase my misery.——
I loathe the light of heaven: let the night,
The hideous unblessed night, close o'er me now,
And close for ever!
FRIAR.
Retire to your apartment, and in prayer
Beseech Almighty Goodness to have pity
On a perturbed soul.
HENRIQUEZ.
FRIAR.
To say an early mass for the repose
Of the interr'd: they must not find you here.
HENRIQUEZ.
What prayers, what chaunted hymns can to the living
Give respite from this agony of soul?
Alas, alas! there is no cure for this.[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
A small Court before the Door of the Prison, which is open. Blas and other Domestics discovered waiting near it.
FIRST DOMESTIC (to Blas).
BLAS.
Black Sultan, saddled stands, champing the bit,
And casting from his mouth the flaky foam.
Stand back; they 're coming now.
Enter Antonio, Carlos, Friar, Balthazer, and Diego, from the Prison.
FRIAR (to Antonio).
ANTONIO.
And yet, methinks, these fetters might be spared.
By Don Henriquez' orders am I thus
Like a vile felon chain'd?
CARLOS.
I fear they gall you; are they clench'd too tightly?
BALTHAZER.
To bear a felon's manacles.
ANTONIO (to Balthazer).
Such is thy narrow and ungen'rous nature.
(Turning to Carlos.)
This rough but noble soldier, bred in camps
And midst the broil of battle, is more gentle.
Henriquez seem'd inclined to pity me,
To think me innocent; then, wherefore these
CARLOS.
To reach the town by close of clay, Henriquez
Being intent to gain a royal audience
Before the sitting of to-morrow's court.
[Exeunt all but Diego, to whom enters Leonora, with something in her hand
LEONORA.
And ere thy master mount, give him this scarf,
These gloves too, and his signet, which, in haste,
He left behind. (Giving them to him.)
He has forbidden me to follow him,
And he must be obeyed.
DIEGO.
LEONORA.
Greatly dejected?
DIEGO.
LEONORA.
DIEGO.
Does not my Lord believe that he is guilty?
LEONORA.
A long time in his chamber he remain'd;
When he came forth again, I watch'd his eye,
And it was calm, though gloomy. Then, forthwith,
He gave his orders that a band of spearmen
Should be in readiness to guard the prisoner
Bound to Zamora; and were he in doubt,
He were not now so calm, being before
So greatly agitated. Hie thee quickly.
[Exeunt severally.