Pedro the Cruel
Why must he be your King? Why more than I,
Because my father took an ugly fiend
From Portugal to wife? That you forsake me
Is a worse treason against nature, brother,
Than mine could be 'gainst Pedro.
Fab. Think not so.
Enri. But if you cannot hate, then you can love.
Come let a sweeter voice plead to you! Never
Tell me that Blanche was not the magnet charmed
Your breathless sword out of its sheath what time
That tender bridegroom locked her up in jail
To comfort his Padilla. There, poor child,
She weeps and waits for her deliverer still.
My own Fadrique, I am not so lost
In cares for my own aims, though you do think it,
But that I have your happiness at heart.
Oh, I have planned for you! Let me remind you
When graceless Pedro on her wedding-day
Flew home to kiss away Padilla's tears,
Men called on you to avenge her. Where is she now?
A prisoner still! Think of that fiery time
When we two, dear Fadrique, burst upon
The noon sleep of Toledo, filled its hot streets
With clamour and with swords, and hand to hand
Fought Pedro for her freedom—though in vain!—
Dare yet to strike another blow for her!
Because my father took an ugly fiend
From Portugal to wife? That you forsake me
Is a worse treason against nature, brother,
Than mine could be 'gainst Pedro.
Fab. Think not so.
Enri. But if you cannot hate, then you can love.
Come let a sweeter voice plead to you! Never
Tell me that Blanche was not the magnet charmed
Your breathless sword out of its sheath what time
That tender bridegroom locked her up in jail
To comfort his Padilla. There, poor child,
She weeps and waits for her deliverer still.
My own Fadrique, I am not so lost
In cares for my own aims, though you do think it,
But that I have your happiness at heart.
Oh, I have planned for you! Let me remind you
When graceless Pedro on her wedding-day
Flew home to kiss away Padilla's tears,
Men called on you to avenge her. Where is she now?
A prisoner still! Think of that fiery time
When we two, dear Fadrique, burst upon
The noon sleep of Toledo, filled its hot streets
With clamour and with swords, and hand to hand
Fought Pedro for her freedom—though in vain!—
Dare yet to strike another blow for her!
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