Alon. What rite?

Leon. You sport me.

Alon. Indeed I do; my heart is full of mirth. Leon. And so is mine-I look on cheerfulness, As on the health of virtue.

Alon. Virtue! Damn-
Leon. What says my lord?

Alon. Thou art exceeding fair.

Leon. Beauty alone is but of little worth;
But when the soul and body of a piece
Both shine alike, then they obtain a price,
And are a fit reward for gallant actions,
Heaven's pay on earth for such great
If fair and innocent, I am your due.
Alon. Innocent! (Aside.)

souls as [your's;

Leon. How-my lord, I interrupt you. Alon. No, my best life, I must not part with thee; This hand is mine-O, what a hand is here! So soft, souls sink into it, and are lost!

Leon. In tears, my lord?

Alon. What less can speak my joy! Why, I could gaze upon thy looks for ever, And drink in all my being from thine eyes: And I could snatch a flaming thunderbolt, And hurl destruction

Leon. My lord, you fright me.

Is this the fondness of your nuptial hour?
Why, when I woo your hand, is it denied me?
Your very eyes, why are they taught to shun me?
Acquaint me with the secret of your heart,
That heart which I have purchas'd with my own!
Lay it before me, then, it is my due.
Unkind Alonzo! though I might demand it,
Behold I kneel! See, Leonora kneels!
The bride foregoes the homage of her day,
And deigns to be a beggar for her own!
Speak, then, I charge you speak, or I expire.
And load you with my death. My lord-my lord!
A lon. Ha, ha, ha!
[ceiv'd?
Leon. Are these the joys which fondly I con-
And is it thus a wedded life begins?
What did I part with, when I gave my heart?
The maid, that loves,

Goes out to sea upon a shatter'd plank,
And puts her trust in miracles for safety.
Where shall I sigh?-where pour out my com-
plaints?
[dress;
He shat should hear, should succour, should re-
He is the source of all.

Alon. Go to thy chamber;

I soon will follow; that, which now disturbs thee,
Shall be clear'd up, and thou shalt not condemn me.
[Exit Leon.
O, how like innocence she looks!-What, stab her!
And rush into her blood!-I never can!
Mine is the guilt-mine-to supplant my friend.
How then? Why thus-no more; it is determin'd.
Enter ZANGA.

Zan. I fear his heart has fail'd him. She must die.
Can I not rouse the snake that's in his bosom,
To sting our human nature, and effect it? (Aside.)
Alon. This vast and solid earth, that blazing sun,
Those skies through which it rolls, must all have end.
What then is man? the smallest part of nothing.
Day buries day, month month, and year the year,
Our life is but a chain of many deaths;

Can then death's self be fear'd? our life much rather.
Life is the desert, life the solitude,
Death joins us to the great majority:

'Tis to be borne to Platos, and to Cæsars; "Tis to be great for ever;

'Tis pleasure, 'tis ambition then to die.

Zan. I think, my lord, you talk'd of death.
Alon. I did.

Zan. I give you joy, then Leonora's dead.
Alon. No, Zanga, the greatest guilt is mine,
Who might have mark'd his tameness to resign her,
Who might have mark'd her sudden turn of love;
These, and a thousand tokens more; and yet-
For which the saints absolve my soul-did wed!
Zan. Whither tends this?

Alon. To shed a woman's blood [rious; Would stain my sword, and make my wars ingloBut just resentment to myself, bears in it A stamp of greatness above vulgar minds. He, who, superior to the checks of nature, Dares make his life the victim of his reason, Does in some sort that reason deify, And take a flight at heaven.

Zan. Alas! my lord,

'Tis not your reason, but her beauty finds
Those arguments, and throws you on your sword.
You cannot close an eye, that is so bright,
You cannot strike a breast, that is so soft,
That has ten thousand ecstacies in store
For Carlos-No, my lord, I mean for you.
Alon. O, through my heart and marrow! Pr'y-
thee spare me:

Nor more upbraid the weakness of thy lord.
I own, I tried, I quarrell'd with my heart,
And push'd it on, and bid it give her death;
But, oh! her eyes struck first, and murder'd me.
Zan. I know not what to answer to my lord.
Men are but men.

Farewell, then, my best lord, since you must die!
Oh, that I were to share your monument,
And in eternal darkness close these eyes,
Against those scenes which I am doom'd to suffer!
Alon. What dost thou mean?

Zan. And is it then unknown?

Oh, grief of heart, to think that you should ask it!
Sure you distrust that ardent love I bear you,
Else could you doubt, when you are laid in dust-
But it will cut my poor heart through and through,
To see those revel on your sacred tomb,
Who brought you thither by their lawless loves.
For there they'll revel, and exult to find
Him sleep so fast, who else might mar their joys.
Alon. Distraction!-But, Don Carlos, well thou
know'st,

Is sheath'd in steel, and bent on other thoughts.
Zan. Yes, till the fever of his blood returns,
While her last kiss still glows upon his cheek.
But when he finds Alonzo is no more,

How will he rush like lightning to her arms!
There sigh, there languish, there pour out his soul;
But not in grief-sad obsequies to thee!
But thou wilt be at peace, nor see, nor hear
The burning kiss, the sigh of ecstacy.
Their throbbing hearts that jostle one another:
Thank heaven, these torments will be all my own.
Alon. I'll ease thee of that pain. Let Carlos die,
O'ertake him on the road, and see it done.
'Tis my command.
(Gives his signet.)

Zan. I dare not disobey.
Alon. My Zanga, now I have thy leave to die.
Zan. Ah, sir! think, think again. Are all men

buried

In Carlos' grave? You know not womankind. When once the throbbing of the heart has broke The modest zone, with which it was first tied, Each man she meets will be a Carlos to her.

Alon. That thought has more of hell than had the Another, and another, and another! [former; And each shall cast a smile upon my tomb. I am convinc'd; I must not, will not die. Zan. You cannot die; nor can you murder her. What then remains? In nature no third way, But to forget, and so to love again.

Alon. Oh!

Zan. If you forgive, the world will call you good; If you forget, the world will call you wise; If you receive her to your grace again, The world will call you very very kind.

Alon. Zanga, I understand thee well. She dies; Though my arm trembles at the stroke, she dies. Zan. That's truly great. What think you 'twas set up

The Greek and Roman name in such a lustre,
But doing right, in stern despite to Nature,
Shutting their ears to all her little cries,
When great, august, and godlike justice call'd?
At Aulis, one pour'd out a daughter's life,
And gain'd more glory than by all his wars;
Another slew a sister in just rage;

A third, the theme of all succeeding times,
Gave to the cruel axe a darling son.

Nay more, for justice some devote themselves,
As he at Carthage, an immortal name!
Yet there is one step left above them all,
Above their history, above their fable,
A wife, bride, mistress, unenjoy'd-do that,
And tread upon the Greek and Roman glory.
Alon. 'Tis done!-Again new transports fire my
I had forgot it, 'tis my bridal night. [brain:
Friend, give me joy, we must be gay together;
See that the festival be duly honour'd.
And when with garlands the full bowl is crown'd,
And music gives the elevating sound,
And golden carpets spread the sacred floor,
And a new day the blazing tapers pour,
Thou, Zanga, thou my solemn friends invite,
From the dark realms of everlasting òight;
Call vengeance, call the Furies, call Despair,
And Death, our chief-invited guest, be there;
He, with pale hand, shall lead the bride, and spread
Eternal curtains round her nuptial bed.

ACT V.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Another Apartment in the palace.
Enter ZANGA and ALONZO.

Alon. Is Carlos murder'd?

Zan. I obey'd your order.

Six ruffians overtook him on the road;

He fought as he was wont, and four he slew..

Then sunk beneath an hundred wounds to death.

His last breath blest Alonzo, and desir'd
His bones might rest near your's.
Alon. O Zanga, Zanga!

But I'll not think:

It is a day of darkness,

Of contradictions, and of many deaths.
Where's Leonora, then? Quick, answer me:
I'm deep in horrors, I'll be deeper still.
I find thy artifice did take effect,
And she forgives my late deportment to her.
Zan. I told her, from your childhood you were
On any great surprise, but chiefly then,
When cause of sorrow bore it company.
To have your passion shake the seat of reason;
A momentary ill, which soon blew o'er.
Then did I tell her of Don Carlos' death,
(Wisely suppressing by what means he fell)

[wont,

And laid the blame on that. At first she doubted;
But such the honest artifice I used,

That she, at length, was fully satisfied.
But what design you, sir, and how?
Alon. I'll tell thee.

Thus I've ordain'd it. In the jasmine bower,
The place which she dishonour'd with her guilt,
There will I meet her; the appointment's made;
And calmly spread (for I can do it now)
The blackness of her crime before her sight,
And then with all the cool solemnity
Of public justice, give her to the grave.
Zan. Why, get thee gone! horror and night go
Sisters of Acheron, go hand in hand; [with thee.
Go dance around the bower, and close them in;
And tell them, that I sent you to salute them.
Profane the ground, and for the ambrosial rose,

[Exit.

And breath of jasmine, let hemlock blacken,
And deadly nightshade poison all the air.
For the sweet nightingale may ravens croak,
Toads pant, and adders rustle through the leaves;
May serpents, winding up the trees, let fall
Their hissing necks upon them from above,
And mingle kisses-such as I should give them!
[Exit.

SCENE II.-The Bower. Leonora sleeping.
Enter ALONZO.

Alon. Ye amaranths! ye roses, like the morn! Sweet myrtles, and ye golden orange groves! Are ye not blasted as I enter in;

Joy-giving, love-inspiring, holy bower!
Know, in thy fragrant bosom thou receivest
A murderer! (He advances) Ha! she sleeps-
The day's uncommon heat has overcome her.
Then take, my longing eyes, your last full gaze.
Oh, what a sight is here! how dreadful fair!
Who would not think that being innocent?
Oh, my distracted heart!-Oh, cruel Heaven!
To give such charms as these, and then call man,
Mere man, to be your executioner!

But see, she smiles! I never shall smile more.
It strongly tempts me to a parting kiss.

(Going, he starts back.) Ha! smile again? She dreams of him she loves. Curse on her charms! I'll stab her through them all. (As he is going to strike, she wakes.) Leon. My lord, your stay was long, and yonder Of falling waters tempted me to rest, (Jull Dispirited with noon's excessive heat. [the day! Alon. Ye powers! with what an eye she mends While they were clos'd I should have given the blow. (Aside.)

Leon. What says my lord?
Alon. Why, this Alonzo says;

If love were endless, men were gods; 'tis that
Does counterbalance travel, danger, pain-
'Tis heaven's expedient to make mortals bear
The light, and cheat them of the peaceful grave.
Leon. Alas, my lord! why talk you of the grave?
Your friend is dead: in friendship you sustain
A mighty loss; repair it with my love.

Alon. Thy love, thou piece of witchcraft! I would say,

Thou brightest angel! I could gaze for ever.
Where hadst thou this? enchantress, tell me where,
Which with a touch works miracles, boils up
My blood to tumults, and turns round my brain?
But, oh, those eyes! those murderers! Oh, whence,
Whence didst thou steal their burning orbs? From

heaven?

Zan. Wither his hand, that held the steel in vain! That dagger found will cause her to enquire.What can be done? That's something still. If not, 'Tis all I can; it shall be so. (Aside.)

Leon. O, Zanga, I am sinking in my fears!
Alonzo dropp'd this dagger as he left me,
And left me in a strange disorder, too.
What can this mean? Angels preserve his life!
Zan. Your's, madam, your's.

Leon. What, Zanga, dost thou say?

Zan. Carry your goodness, then, to such exSo blinded to the faults of him you love, [tremes, That you perceive not he is jealous?

Leon. Heav'ns!

And yet a thousand things recur that swear it. Jealous! it sickens at my heart. Unkind,

My lord

Alon. O, Zanga, hold thy peace! I am no coward,
But heaven itself did hold my hand; I felt it,
By the well-being of my soul, I did.

I'll think of vengeance at another season.
Zan. My lord, her guilt-

Alon. Perdition on thee, Moor,

For that one word!

I love her to distraction.

If 'tis my shame, why, be it so I love her;
Nor can I help it; 'tis impos'd upon me
By some superior and resistless power.
I could not hurt her to be lord of earth;
It shocks my nature like a stroke from heaven.
But see, my Leonora comes. Begone. [Exit Zan.
Enter LEONORA.

O, seen for ever, yet for ever new!

The conquer'd thou dost conquer o'er again,
Inflicting wound on wound.

Leon. Alas! my lord!

What need of this to me?
Alon. Ha! dost thou weep?
Leon. Have I no cause?

Alon. If love is thy concern,

Thou hast no cause; none ever lov'd like me.
Oh, that this one embrace would last for ever!
Leon. These tears declare how much I taste the

Of being folded in your arms and heart;
My universe does lie within that space.
This dagger bore false witness.

Alon. Ha! my dagger!

It rouses horrid images. Away,

Away with it; and let us talk of love.
Leon. It touches you.

Alon. Let's talk of love.

Leon. Of death!

Alon. As thou lovest happiness-
Leon. Of murder!

[joy

Alon. Then must I fly for thy sake and my own. Leon. Nay, by my injuries, you first must

hear me.

Leon. Darest thou persist to think I am dishonest? Alon. I know thee so.

Leon. This blow, then, to thy heart.

(She stabs herself, he endeavouring to prevent her.)

Alon. Ho, Zanga! Isabella! ho! she bleeds! Descend, ye blessed angels, to assist her!

Leon. This the only way I would wound thee, Though most unjust. Now think me guilty still. Enter ISABELLA.

Alon. Bear her to instant help. The world to save her!

Leon. Unhappy man! well may'st thou gaze and tremble:

But fix thy terror and amazement right;
Not on my blood, but on thy own distraction.
What hast thou done? Whom censur'd? Leonora!
When thou hadst censur'd, thou wouldst save her
life:

O, inconsistent! Should I live in shame;
Or stoop to any other means but this

To assert my virtue? No; she, who disputes,
Admits it possible she might be guilty.

While aught but truth could be my inducement to it,
While it might look like an excuse to thee,
I scorn'd to vindicate my innocence;
But now, I let thy rashness know, the wound,
Which least I feel, is that my dagger made.

(Isabella leads out Leonora.) Alon. Ha! was this woman guilty? And if notHow my thoughts darken that way! Grant, kind heaven,

That she prove guilty; or my being end.
Is that my hope, then?

Is it in man the sore distress to bear,
When hope itself is blacken'd to despair;
When all the bliss I pant for, is to gain
In hell, a refuge from severer pain?

Enter ZANGA.

[Exit.

What then? We all must die.

Isa. Alonzo raves;

And, in the tempest of his grief, has thrice
Attempted on his life. At length disarm'd,
He calls his friends that save him, his worst foes,
And importunes the skies for swift perdition.
After a pause,

He started up, and call'd aloud for Zanga,
For Zanga rav'd; and see, he seeks you here,

To learn that truth, which most he dreads to know. Zan. Begone. Now, now, my soul, consummate [Exit Isabella.

all.

Enter ALONZO.

Alon. Oh, Zanga!

Zan. Do not tremble so, but speak.
Alon. I dare not.

(Falls on him.) Zan. You will drown me with your tears. Alon. Have I not cause?

Zan. As yet you have no cause.

Alon. Dost thou, too, rave?
Zan. Your anguish is to come:
You much have been abus'd.
Alon. Abus'd! by whom?

Zan. To know, were little comfort.
Alon. O, 'twere much!

Where are you? Crown me, shadow me with laurels,

Ye spirits, which delight in just revenge!
Let Europe and her pallid sons go weep;
Let Afric and her hundred thrones rejoice:
O, my dear countrymen, look down, and see
How I bestride your prostrate conqueror!
I tread on haughty Spain, and all her kings.
But this is mercy, this is my indulgence;
'Tis peace, 'tis refuge from my indignation.
I must awake him into horrors. Ho!
Alonzo, ho! the Moor is at the gate!
Awake, invincible, omnipotent!
Thou, who dost all subdue.

Alon. Inhuman slave!

Zan. Fall'n Christian, thou mistak'st my character.

Look on me. Who am I? I know, thou say'st,
The Moor, a slave, an abject, beaten slave:
(Eternal woes to him that made me so!)
But look again. Has six years' cruel bondage
Extinguish'd majesty so far, that nought
Shines here to give an awe of one above thee?
When the great Moorish king, Abdallah, fell;
Fell by thy hand accurs'd, I fought fast by him,
His son; though, through his fondness, in disguise,
Less to expose me to th' ambitious foe.-
Ha! does it wake thee?-O'er my father's corse
I stood astride, till I had clove thy crest;
And then was made the captive of a squadron,
And sunk into thy servant-But, oh! what,
What were my wages! Hear, nor heaven nor
earth!

My wages were a blow! by heaven, a blow!

And from a mortal hand!

Alon. Oh, villain, villain!

Zan. All strife is vain. (Shewing a dagger.)
Alon. Is thus my love return'd?

Is this my recompense? Make friends of tigers
Lay not your young, O, mothers, on the breast,
For fear they turn to serpents as they lie,
And pay you for their nourishment with death.
Carlos is dead, and Leonora dying!

Both innocent, both murder'd, both by me.
Oh, shame! Oh, guilt! Oh, horror! Oh, remorse!
Oh, punishment! Had Satan never fall'n,
Hell had been made for me.-Oh, Leonora! Leo-
nora! Leonora!

Zan. Must I despise thee, too, as well as hate thee?

Complain of grief! complain thou art a man.
Priam from fortune's lofty summit fell;
Great Alexander 'midst his conquests mourn'd;
Heroes and demigods have known their sorrows;
Cæsars have wept; and I have had my blow:
But 'tis reveng'd, and now my work is done.
Yet, ere I fall, be it one part of vengeance
To make ev'n thee confess that I am just.
Thou seest a prince, whose father thou hast slain,
Whose native country thou hast laid in blood,
Whose sacred person, oh! thou hast profan'd!
Whose reign extinguish'd: What was left to me,
So highly born? No kingdom, but revenge;

No treasure, but thy tortures and thy groans.
If cold white mortals censure this great deed,
Warn them, they judge not of superior beings,
Souls made of fire, and children of the sun,
With whom revenge is virtue. Fare thee well-
Now, fully satisfy'd, I should take leave;
But one thing grieves me, since thy death is near,
I leave thee my example how to die.

As he is going to stab himself, Alonzo rushes
upon him, and prevents him. Enter DON
ALVAREZ, with Attendants. They seize
Zanga, Alonzo puts the dagger in his

bosom.

Alon. No, monster, thou shalt not escape by death. My father!

Alv. O, Alonzo-Isabella,

Touch'd with remorse to see her mistress' pangs,
Told all the dreadful tale.

Alon. What groan was that?

Zan. As I have been a vulture to thy heart,
So will I be a raven to thine ear,

Enter MANUEL, who whispers Alvarez.
And true as ever snuff'd the scent of blood,
As ever flapp'd its heavy wing against
The window of the sick, and croak'd despair.
Thy wife is dead.

Alv. The dreadful news is true.

Alon, Prepare the rack; invent new tortures for him.

Zan. This, too, is well. The fix'd and noble mind
Turns all occurrence to its own advantage;
And I'll make vengeance of calamity.
Were I not thus reduced, thou wouldst not know
That, thus reduced, I dare defy thee still.
Torture thou may'st, but thou shalt ne'er de-
spise me.

The blood will follow where the knife is driven,
The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear,
And sighs and cries by nature grow on pain.
But these are foreign to the soul: not mine
The groans that issue, or the tears that fall;
They disobey me: on the rack I scorn thee,
As when my faulchion clove thy helm in battle.
Alv. Peace, villain!

Zan. While I live, old man, I'll speak:
And well I know thou darest not kill me yet;
For that would rob thy bloodhounds of their prey.
Alon. Who call'd Alonzo?

Again! Tis Carlos' voice, and I obey.
Oh, how I laugh at all that this can do!

(Stabs himself.) The wounds that pain'd, the wounds that murder'd

me,

Were given before; I was already dead;
This only marks my body for the grave.
Afric, thou art reveng'd-O, Leonora!
Zan. Good ruffians, give me leave; my blood is
your's,

(Dies.)

The wheel's prepar'd, and you shall have it all; Let me but look one moment on the dead, And pay yourselves with gazing on my pangs. (He goes to Alonzo's body.) Is this Alonzo? Where's the haughty mien? Is that the hand which smote me? Heavens, how pale!

And art thou dead? So is my enmity.

I war not with the dust. The great, the proud,
The conqueror of Afric was my foe.
A lion preys not upon carcases.
This was thy only method to subdue me.
Terror and doubt fall on me: all thy good
Now blazes, all thy guilt is in the grave.
Never had man such funeral applause;
If I lament thee, sure thy worth was great.
O vengeance, I have followed thee too far,
And to receive me, hell blows all her fires. [Exent,

SCENE I.-A Chamber.

Enter DON JUAN and DON MICHAEL.

Mich. Are your companies full, colonel? Juan. No, not yet, sir:

Nor will not be this month yet, as I reckon. How rises your command?"

Mich. We pick up still;

And, as our money holds out, we have men come. About that time, I think we shall be full, too: Many young gallants go.

Juan. And unexperienced.

There's one Don Leon, a strange, goodly fellow,
Commended to me from some noble friends.
Mich. I've heard of him, and that he hath serv'd
before, too.
[Michael,
Juan. But no harm done, nor never meant, Don
That came to my ears yet; ask him a question,
He blushes like a girl, and answers little,
To the point less. I never yet heard certainly
Of any gentleman that saw him angry.
Mich. Preserve him; he'll conclude a peace, if

need be:

When heard you of Donna Margarita, the great

[her;

heiress? Mich. I hear every hour of her, though I ne'er saw She is the main discourse. Noble Don Juan de

Castro,

up,

How happy were that man could catch that wench
[wealthy,
And live at ease! She's fair, and young, and
Infinite wealthy, and as gracious too
In all her entertainments, as men report.

Juan. But she is proud, sir, that I know for certain,
And that comes seldom without wantonness;
He, that shall marry her, must have a rare hand.
Mich. 'Would I were married, I would find that
wisdom

With a light rein to rule my wife. If ever woman
Of the most subtle mould went beyond me,
I'd give boys leave to hoot me out o'th' parish.
Enter VASCO.

Vas. Sir, there be two gentlewomen attend to speak with you.

Juan. Wait on 'em in.

Mich. Are they two handsome women? Vas. They seem so; very handsome; but they're veil'd, sir.

Mich. Thou put'st sugar in my mouth: how it melts with me!

I love a sweet young wench.

Juan. Wait on them in, I say.

Mich. Don Juan!

[Exit Vasco.

Juan. How you itch, Michael! how you burnish!

8