[Sighs.

Yet much is talked of bliss; it is the art
Of such as have the world in their possession,
To give it a good name, that fools may envy;
For envy to small minds is flattery.

How many lift the head, look gay, and smile
Against their consciences! and this we know,
Yet, knowing, disbelieve, and try again
What we have tried, and struggle with conviction.
Each new experience gives the former credit;
And reverend grey threescore is but a voucher,
That thirty told us true.

Zan. My noble lord,

I mourn your fate: But are no hopes surviving? Car. No hopes. Alvarez has a heart of steel. 'Tis fixed-'tis past-'tis absolute despair!

Zan. You wanted not to have your heart made tender,

By your own pains, to feel a friend's distress. Car. I understand you well. Alonzo loves; I pity him.

Zan. I dare be sworn you do. Yet he has other thoughts.

Car. What canst thou mean

?

Zan. Indeed he has ; and fears to ask a favour
A stranger from a stranger might request;
What costs you nothing, yet is all to him:
Nay, what indeed will to your glory add,
For nothing more than wishing your friend well.
Car. I pray, be plain; his happiness is mine.
Zan. He loves to death; but so reveres his
friend,

He can't persuade his heart to wed the maid
Without your leave, and that he fears to ask.
In perfect tenderness I urged him to it.
Knowing the deadly sickness of his heart,
Your overflowing goodness to your friend,
Your wisdom, and despair yourself to wed her,
I wrung a promise from him he would try:
And now I come, a mutual friend to both,
Without his privacy, to let you know it,
And to prepare you kindly to receive him.
Car. Ha! if he weds I am undone indeed;

Not Dón Alvarez' self can then relieve me. Zan. Alas, my lord, you know his heart is steel! 'Tis fixed, 'tis past, 'tis absolute despair.

Car. Oh, cruel Heaven! and is it not enough That I must never, never see her more? Say, is it not enough that I must die; But I must be tormented in the grave?Ask my consent!-Must I then give her to him? Lead to his nuptial sheets the blushing maid? Oh! Leonora!-never, never, never!

Zan. A storm of plagues upon him! he refuses. [Aside.

Car. What, wed her?—and to-day?
Zan. To-day, or never.

To-morrow may some wealthier lover bring,
And then Alonzo is thrown out like you:

Then whom shall he condemn for his misfortune?
Carlos is an Alvarez to his love.

Car. Oh, torment! whither shall I turn?
Zan. To peace.

Car. Which is the way?

Zan. His happiness is yours

I dare not disbelieve you.

Car. Kill my friend!

Or worse-Alas! and can there be a worse?
A worse there is; nor can my nature bear it.
Zan. You have convinced me 'tis a dreadful
task.

I find Alonzo's quitting her this morning
For Carlos' sake, in tenderness to you,
Betrayed me to believe it less severe
Than I perceive it is.

Car. Thou dost upbraid me.
Zan. No, my good lord; but since
comply,

you can't

'Tis my misfortune that I mentioned it; For had I not, Alonzo would indeed Have died, as now, but not by your decree. Car. By my decree! Do I decree his death? I do-Shall I then lead her to his arms s? Oh, which side shall I take? Be stabbed, orstab?

'Tis equal death! a choice of agonies.
Ah, no! all other agonies are ease
To one- -Oh, Leonora! never, never!
Go, Zanga, go, defer the dreadful trial,
Though but a day; something, perchance, may
happen

To soften all to friendship and to love.
Go, stop my friend, let me not see him now;
But save us from an interview of death.
Zan. My lord, I am bound in duty to obey

Yet Leonora she can make time long,
Its nature alter, as she altered mine.
While in the lustre of her charms I lay,
Whole summer suns rolled unperceived away;
I years for days, and days for moments told,
And was surprised to hear that I
grew old.
Now fate does rigidly its dues regain,
And every moment is an age of pain.

As he is going out, enter ZANGA and Don ALONzo. ZANGA stops Don CARLOS.

Zan. Is this Don Carlos? this the boasted friend?

How can you turn your back upon his sadness? Look on him, and then leave him if you can. Whose sorrows thus depress him? Not his own: This moment he could wed without your leave. Car. I cannot yield; nor can I bear his griefs.

Alonzo! [Going to him, and taking his hand. Alon. Oh, Carlos !

Car. Pray, forbear.

Alon. Art thou undone, and shall Alonzo smile?

Alonzo, who, perhaps, in some degree
Contributed to cause thy dreadful fate?
I was deputed guardian of thy love;

But, Oh, I loved myself! Pour down afflictions
On this devoted head, make me your mark;
And be the world by my example taught,
How sacred it should hold the name of friend!
Car. You charge yourself unjustly; well I
know

The only cause of my severe affliction,
Alvarez, cursed Alvarez! So much anguish,
Felt for so small a failure, is one merit
Which faultless virtue wants. The crime was
mine,

Who placed thee there, where only thou couldst

fail;

Though well I knew that dreadful post of honour I gave thee to maintain. Ah! who could bear Those eyes unhurt? The wounds myself have felt (Which wounds alone should cause me to condemn thee)

They plead in thy excuse; for I too strove
To shun those fires, and found 'twas not in man.
Alon. You cast in shades the failure of a
friend,

And soften all; but think not to deceive me;
I know my guilt, and I implore your pardon,
As the sole glimpse I can obtain of peace.

Car. Pardon for him, who but this morning threw Fair Leonora from his heart, all bathed

In ceaseless tears, and blushing for her love! Who, like a rose-leaf wet with morning dew, Would have stuck close, and clung for ever there!

But 'twas in thee, through fondness for thy friend, To shut thy bosom against ecstacies;

For which, while this pulse beats, it beats to thee;

While this blood flows, it flows for my Alonzo, And every wish is levelled at thy joy.

Zan. [To ALONZO.] My lord, my lord, this is your time to speak.

Alon. [To ZAN.] Because he's kind? It there-
fore is the worst;

For 'tis his kindness which I fear to hurt.
Shall the same moment see him sink in woes,
And me providing for a flood of joys,
Rich in the plunder of his happiness?
No, I may die; but I can never speak.

Car. Now, now it comes! they are concert-
ing it!

The first word strikes me dead-Oh, Leonora! And shall another taste her fragrant breath? Who knows what after-time may bring to pass? Fathers may change, and I may wed her still.

Car. Alonzo, stay-he cannot speak

[Holds him. Lest it should grieve me- -Shall I be outdone? And lose in glory, as I lose in love? [Aside. I take it much unkindly, my Alonzo, You think so meanly of me, not to speak, When well I know your heart is near to bursting. Have you forgot how you have bound me to you? Your smallest friendship's liberty and life.

Alon. There, there it is, my friend! it cuts me there.

How dreadful is it to a generous mind To ask, when sure he cannot be denied! Car. How greatly thought! In all he towers above me. [Aside. Then you confess you would ask something of

me?

Why was not mine the most illustrious lot,
Of starting at one action from below,
And flaming up into consummate greatness?
Ha! angels strengthen me! It shall be so-
I cannot want strength. Great actions once con-
ceived,

Strengthen like wine, and animate the soul,
And call themselves to being. [Aside.] My
Alonzo!

Since thy great soul disdains to make request,
Receive with favour that I make to thee.
Alon. What means my Carlos?
Car. Pray observe me well.
Fate and Alvarez tore her from my heart,
And plucking up my love, they had well nigh
Plucked up life too, for they were twined to-
gether.

Of that no more-What now does reason bid?
I cannot wed-Farewell my happiness!
But, oh my soul, with care provide for hers!
In life, how weak, how helpless is woman!
Soon hurt; in happiness itself unsafe,
And often wounded while she plucks the rose;
So properly the object of affliction,

That Heaven is pleased to make distress become her,

And dresses her most amiably in tears.
Take then my heart in dowry with the fair!
Be thou her guardian, and thou must be mine;
Shut out the thousand pressing ills of life
With thy surrounding arms-
-Do this, and then
Set down the liberty and life thou gavest me,
As little things, as essays of thy goodness,
And rudiments of friendship so divine.

Alon. There is a grandeur in thy goodness to

me,

Which with thy foes would render thee adored.
But have a care, nor think I can be pleased
With any thing that lays in pains for thee.
Thou dost dissemble, and thy heart's in tears.
Car. My heart's in health, my spirits dance
their round,

And at my eyes pleasure looks out in smiles. Alon. And canst thou, canst thou part with Leonora ?

Car. I do not part with her, I give her thee. Alon. O Carlos!

Car. Don't disturb me, I'm sincere,
Nor is it more than simple justice in me.
This morn didst thou resign her for my sake;
I but perform a virtue learnt from thee,
Discharge a debt, and pay her to thy wishes.
Alon. Ah, how?-But think not words were
ever made

For such occasions, Silence, tears, embraces,
Are languid eloquence; I'll seek relief
In absence from the pain of so much goodness;
There thank the blest above, thy sole superiors,
Adore, and raise my thoughts of them by thee.

[Exit.

Zan. Thus far success has crowned my boldest hope.

My next care is to hasten these new nuptials, And then my master-works begin to play.

[Aside.

Why this was greatly done, without one sigh [To CAR.

To carry such a glory to its period.
Car. Too soon thou praisest me. He's gone,
and now

I must unsluice my overburthened heart,
And let it flow. I would not grieve my friend
With tears, nor interrupt my great design;
Great sure as ever human breast durst think of.
But now my sorrows, long with pain supprest,
Burst their confinement with impetuous sway,
O'er-swell all bounds, and bear even life away.
So, till the day was won, the Greek renowned
With anguish bore the arrow in his wound,
Then drew the shaft from out his tortured side,
Let gush the torrent of his blood, and died.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

Enter ZANGA.

Zan. O joy, thou welcome stranger! twice

three years

I have not felt thy vital beam; but now
It warms my veins, and plays around my heart:
A fiery instinct lifts me from the ground,
And I could mount! The spirits numberless
Of my dear countrymen, which yesterday
Left their poor bleeding bodies on the field,
Are all assembled here, and o'er-inform me.-
O, bridegroom: great indeed thy present bliss;
Yet even by me unenvied; for be sure
It is thy last, last smile, that which now
Sits on thy cheek; enjoy it while thou mayest;

Enter ISABELLA.

Isa. What commands my Moor?

Zan, My fair ally! my lovely minister ! 'Twas well Alvarez, by my arts impelled, (To plunge Don Carlos in the last despair, And to prevent all future molestation) Finished the nuptials soon as he resolved them; This conduct ripened all for me and ruin. Scarce had the priest the holy rite performed, When I, by sacred inspiration, forged That letter, which I trusted to thy hand; That letter, which, in glowing terms, conveys, From happy Carlos to fair Leonora,

The most profound acknowledgments of heart,
For wond'rous transports which he never knew.
This is a good subservient artifice,
To aid the nobler workings of my brain.

Isa. I quickly dropt it in the bride's apartment, As you commanded.

Zan. With a lucky hand,

For scon Alonzo found it; I observed him
From out my secret stand. He took it up;
But scarce was it unfolded to his sight,
When he, as if an arrow pierced his eye,
Started, and, trembling, dropt it on the ground.
Pale and aghast awhile my victim stood,
Disguised a sigh or two, and puffed them from
him;

Then rubbed his brow, and took it up again.
At first he looked as if he meant to read it;
But, checked by rising fears, he crushed it thus,
And thrust it, like an adder, in his bosom.

Isa. But if he read it not, it cannot sting him, At least not mortally.

Zan. At first I thought so;

But farther though.t informs me otherwise,
And turns this disappointment to account.
He more shall credit it, because unseen,
(If 'tis unseen) as thou anon may'st find.

Isa. That would indeed commend my Zanga's
skill.

Zan. This, Isabella, is Don Carlos' picture; Take it, and so dispose of it, that, found, It may raise up a witness of her love, Under her pillow, in her cabinet,

Or elsewhere, as shall best promote our end. Isa. I'll weigh it as its consequence requires, Then do my utmost to deserve your smile.

[Exit. Zan. Is that Alonzo prostrate on the ground? -Now he starts up, like flame from sleeping embers,

And wild distraction glares from either eye! If thus a slight surmise can work his soul, How will the fulness of the tempest tear him?

If thou dost love me, I shall fill thy heart With scorpions' stings.

Zan. If I do love, my lord?

Alon. Come near me, let me rest upon thy bosom;

(What pillow like the bosom of a friend?) For I am sick at heart.

Zan. Speak, sir, O speak, And take me from the rack!

Alon. And is there need

Of words? Behold a wonder! See my tears! Zan. I feel them too. Heaven grant my senses fail me!

I rather would lose them, than have this real. Alon. Go, take a round through all things in thy thought,

And find that one-for there is only one
Which could extort my tears-find that, and tell
Thyself my misery, and spare me the pain.

Zan. Sorrow can think but ill-I am bewil-
dered;

I know not where I am.

Alon. Think, think no more!

It ne'er can enter in an honest heart.

I'll tell thee, then—I cannot——yet I do,
By wanting force to give it utterance.

Zun. Speak, ease your heart; its throbs will
burst your bosom!

Alon. I am most happy: mine is victory, Mine the king's favour, mine the nation's shout, And great men make their fortunes of my smiles. O curse of curses! in the lap of blessing To be most curst !-My Leonora's false ! Zan. Save me, my lord! Alon. My Leonora's false!

[Gives him the letter. Zan. Then Heaven has lost its image here on earth.

[While ZANGA reads the letter, he trembles, and shews the utmost concern. Alon. Good-natured man! he makes my pains his own!

I durst not read it; but I read it now
In thy concern.

Zan. Did you not read it then?

Alon. Mine eye just touched it, and could bear

Alon. And didst thou tremble, then, for my mistake?

Or give the whole contents, or by the pangs That feed upon my heart, thy life's in danger!

Zan. Is this Alonzo's language to his Zanga? Draw forth your sword, and find the secret here. For whose sake is it, think you, I conceal it? Wherefore this rage? Because I seek your peace?

I have no interest in suppressing it,
But what good-natured tenderness for you
Obliges me to have. Not mine the heart

That will be rent in two; not mine the fame That will be damned, though all the world should know it.

Alon. Then my worst fears are true, and life in past.

Zan. What has the rashness of my passion uttered?

I know not what; but rage is our destruction,
And all its words are wind- -Yet sure, I think,
I nothing owned. But, grant I did confess,
What is a letter? Letters may be forged.
For Heaven's sweet sake, my lord, lift up your
heart!

Some foe. to your repose

Alon. So Heaven look on me,

As I can't find the man I have offended.
Zan. Indeed! [Aside]Our innocence is
not our shield:

They take offence, who have not been offended;
They seek our ruin, too, who speak us fair,
And death is often ambushed in their smiles;
We know not whom we have to fear, "Tis cer-
tain

A letter may be forged, and in a point
Of such a dreadful consequence as this,

One would rely on nought that might be false.
Think, have you any other cause to doubt her?
Away, you can find none. Resume your spirit;
All's well again.

Alon. O that it were! Zan. It is;

For who would credit that, which, credited,
Makes hell superfluous by superior pains,
Without such proofs as cannot be withstood?
Has she not ever been to virtue trained?
Is not her fame as spotless as the sun,
Her sex's envy, and the boast of Spain?

Alon. O Zanga! it is that confounds me most, That full in opposition to appearance—

Zan. No more, my lord, for you condemn
yourself.

What is absurdity, but to believe
Against appearance!-You can't yet, I find,
Subdue your passion to your better sense ;-
And, truth to tell, it does not much displease me.
'Tis fit your indiscretions should be checked
With some degree of pain.

Alon. What indiscretions?

Zan. Come, you must bear to hear your faults
from me.

Had you not sent Don Carlos to the court
The night before the battle, that foul slave,
Who forged the senseless scroll which gives you
pain,

Had wanted footing for his villany.

Alon. I sent him not.

Zun. Not send him! Ha! That strikes me. I thought he came on message to the king. Is there another cause could justify His shunning danger, and the promised fight? But I perhaps may think too rigidly; So long an absence, and impatient love

Alon. In my confusion that had quite escaped me. By Heaven, my wounded soul does bleed afresh; 'Tis clear as day-for Carlos is so brave,

Proofs rise on proofs, and still the last the strongest.

The eternal law of things declares it true,
Which calls for judgment on distinguished guilt,
And loves to make our crime our punishment.
Love is my torture, love was first my crime;
For she was his, my friend's, and he (O horror!)
Confided all in me. O, sacred faith!
How dearly I abide thy violation!

Zan. Were, then, their loves far gone?
Alon. The father's will

There bore a total sway; and he, as soon
As news arrived that Carlos' fleet was seen
From off our coast, fired with the love of gold,
Determined, that the very sun which saw
Carlos' return, should see his daughter wed.

Zan. Indeed, my lord, then you must pardon me,
If I presume to mitigate the crime.
Consider, strong allurements soften guilt;
Long was his absence, ardent was his love,
At midnight his return, the next day destined
For his espousals 'twas a strong temptation.
Alon. Temptation!

Zan. 'Twas but gaining of one night.
Alon. One night!

Zan. That crime could ne'er return again.
Alon. Again! By Heaven thou dost insult thy

lord.

Temptation! One night gained! O stings and death!

And am I then undone! Alas, my Zanga !
And dost thou own it too? Deny it still,
And rescue me one moment from distraction.
Zan. My lord, I hope the best.
Alon. False, foolish hope,

And insolent to me! Thou know'st it false;
It is as glaring as the noon-tide sun.
Devil! This morning, after three years coldness,
To rush at once into a passion for me!
'Twas time to feign, 'twas time to get another,
When her first fool was sated with her beauties.
Zan. What says my lord? Did Leonora then
Never disclose her passion for you?
Alon. Never.

Zan. Throughout the whole three years!
Alon. O never! never!

Why, Zanga, shouldst thou strive? 'Tis all in vain:

Though thy soul labours, it can find no reed
For hope to catch at. Ah! I am plunging down
Ten thousand fathoms in despair.

Zan. Hold, sir, I'll break your fall-wave every

fear,