And be a man again-Had he enjoyed her,
Be most assured, he had resigned her to you
With less reluctance.

Alon. Ha! Resign her to me !-
Resign her!-Who resigned her?-Double death!
How could I doubt so long? My heart is broke.
First love her to distraction! then resign her!
Zan. But was it not with utmost agony?
Alon. Grant that, he still resigned her; that's
enough.

Would he pluck out his eye to give it me?
Tear out his heart?-She was his heart no more-
Nor was it with reluctance he resigned her!
By Heaven, he asked, he courted me to wed.
I thought it strange; 'tis now no longer so.
Zan. Was it his request? Are you right sure
of that?

I fear the letter was not all a tale.

Alon. A tale! There's proof equivalent to sight.

Zan. I should distrust my sight on this occa

sion.

Alon, And so should I: by Heaven I think I should.

What! Leonora, the divine, by whom
We guessed at angels! Oh! I'm all confusion.
Zan. You now are too much ruffled to think
clearly.

Since bliss and horror, life and death hang on it,
Go to your chamber, there maturely weigh
Each circumstance; consider, above all,
That it is jealousy's peculiar nature

To swell small things to great; nay, out of nought|
To conjure much, and then to lose its reason
Amid the hideous phantoms it has formed.
Alon. Had I ten thousand lives, I'd give them
all

To be deceived. I fear 'tis doomsday with me.
And yet she seemed so pure, that I thought Hea-

There, Isabella, I out-did myself;
For tearing it, I not secure it only
In its first force, but superadd a new ;
For who can now the character examine,
To cause a doubt, much less detect the fraud?
And after tearing it, as loth to shew
The foul contents, if I should swear it now
A forgery, my lord would disbelieve me ;
Nay, more, would disbelieve the more I swore.
But is the picture happily disposed of?
Isa. It is.

Zan. That's well-Ah! what is well! O pang

to think!

O dire necessity! is this my province ?
Whither, my soul! ah, whither art thou sunk
Beneath thy sphere? Ere while, far, far above
Such little arts, dissembling, falsehoods, frauds,
The trash of villany itself, which falls
To cowards, and poor wretches wanting bread.
Does this become a soldier? This become
Whom armies followed, and a people loved?
My martial glory withers at the thought.
But great my end; and since there are no other,
These means are just; they shine with borrowed
light,

Illustrious from the purpose they pursue.
And greater sure my merit, who, to gain
A point sublime, can such a task sustain;
To wade through ways obscene my honour bend,
And shock my nature, to attain my end.
Late time shall wonder; that my joys will raise;
For wonder is involuntary praise. [Exeunt.

secret.

Alon. What dost thou mean? Thou know'st I'm on the rack.

I'll not be played with; speak, if thou hast aught, Or I this instant fly to Leonora.

Zan. That is, to death. My lord, I am not yet
Quite so far gone in guilt to suffer it,
Though gone too far, Heaven knows.-'Tis I am
guilty;-

I have took pains, as you, I know, observed,
To hinder you from diving in the secret,
And turned aside your thoughts from the detec-

tion.

Alon. Thou dost confound me!
Zun. I confound myself,

And frankly own it, though to my shame I own

it;

Nought but your life in danger could have torn
The secret out, and made me own my crime.
Alon. Speak quickly; Zanga, speak.
Zan. Not yet, dread sir:

First, I must be assured, that if you find
The fair one guilty, scorn, as you assured me,
Shall conquer love and rage, and heal your soul.
Alon. Oh! 'twill, by Heaven!

Zan. Alas! I fear it much,

And scarce can hope so far; but I of this
Exact your solemn oath, that you'll abstain
From all self-violence, and save my lord.
Alon. I trebly swear.

Zan. You'll bear it like a man?
Alon. A god.

Zan. Such have you been to me; these tears

confess it,

Alon. No, my delight.

Leon. What then employed your mind? Alon. Thou love, and only thou; so Heaven befriend me,

As other thought can find no entrance here.
Leon. How good in you, my lord, whom na-
tions' cares

Solicit, and a world in arms obeys,
To drop one thought on me!

[He shews the utmost impatience. Alon. Dost thou then prize it? Leon. Do you then ask it?

Alon. Know then, to thy comfort, Thou hast me all, my throbbing heart is full With thee alone; I have thought of nothing else; Nor shall, I from my soul believe, till death. My life, our friends expect thee.

Leon. I obey.

[Exit.

Alon. Is that the face of cursed hypocrisy ? If she is guilty, stars are made of darkness, And beauty shall no more belong to Heaven!Don Carlos did return at dead of nightProceed, good Zanga; so thy tale began.

Zan. Don Carlos did return at dead of night; That night by chance (ill chance for me) did I Command the watch that guards the palace gate. He told me he had letters for the king, Dispatched from you.

I

Alon. The villain lied! Zan. My lord, pray, forbear.

Transported at his sight, After so long a bondage, and your friend, (Who could suspect him of an artifice?) No farther I enquired, but let him pass, False to my trust, at least imprudent in it. Our watch relieved, I went into the garden, As is my custom when the night's serene, And took a moon-light walk: when soon I heard A rustling in an arbour that was near me. I saw two lovers in each other's arms, Embracing and embraced. Anon the man Arose, and falling back some paces from her, Gazed ardently awhile, then rushed at once, And throwing all himself into her bosom, There softly sighed- Oh, night of ecstacy! When shall we meet again?'-Don Carlos, then, Led Leonora forth.

Aton. Oh, oh my heart!

[He sinks into a chair. Zan. Groan on, and with the sound refresh my soul!

'Tis through his heart; his knees smite one

another:

Alon. I'll come, my love;

Be not our friends deserted by us both; I'll follow you this moment.

ye

rack my soul? Speak to me, let me know that you still live. Do not you know me, sir? Pray, look upon me: You think too deeply- -I am your own Zanga, So loved, so cherished, and so faithful to you.

Why start you in such fury? Nay, my lord,
For Heaven's sake sheath your sword! What can
this mean?

Fool that I was, to trust you with the secret,
And you unkind to break your word with me.
Oh, passion for a woman!- -On the ground!
Where is your boasted courage? Where your

scorn,

And prudent rage, that was to cure your grief,
And chase your love-bred agonies away?
Rise, sir, for honour's sake. Why should the
Moors,

Why should the vanquished triumph?

Alon. Would to Heaven

That I were lower still! Oh, she was all!-
My fame, my friendship, and my love of arms,
All stoop to her; my blood was her possession.
Deep in the secret foldings of my heart
She lived with life, and far the dearer she.
But-and no more-set nature on a blaze,
Give her a fit of jealousy-away-

To think on't-is the torment of the damned,
And not to think on't is impossible.
How fair the cheek that first alarmed my soul!
How bright the eye that set it on a flame!
How soft the breast on which I laid my peace
For years to slumber, unawaked by care!
How fierce the transport! how sublime the bliss!
How deep, how black, the horror and despair!
Zan. You said you would bear it like a man.
Alon. I do.

Am I not most distracted?

Zan. Pray, be calm.

Alon. As hurricanes: be thou assured of that. Zan. Is this the wise Alonzo?

Tear them asunder-Murder-How they grind My heart betwixt them!-Oh, let go my heart! Yet let it go- -Embracing and embraced! Oh, pestilence!-Who let him in?—A traitor. [Goes to stab ZANGA, he prevents him. Alas, my head turns round, and my limbs fail me!

Zan. My lord!

Alon. Oh, villain, villain, most accurst! If thou didst know it, why didst let me wed? Zan. Hear me, my lord, your anger will abate. I knew it not :-I saw them in the garden; But saw no more than you might well expect To see in lovers destined for each other. By Heaven I thought their meeting innocent. Who could suspect fair Leonora's virtue, Till after-proofs conspired to blacken it? Sad proofs, which came too late, which broke not out,

(Eternal curses on Alvarez' haste!)

Till holy rites had made the wanton yours;
And then, I own, I laboured to conceal it,
In duty and compassion to your peace.

Alon. Live now, be damned hereafter-for I
want thee.-

Oh, night of ecstacy!-Ha! was't not so?
I will enjoy this murder.Let me think-
The jasmine bower-'tis secret and remote:
Go wait me there, and take thy dagger with thee.
[Exit ZANGA.
How the sweet sound still sings within my ear!
When shall we meet again?-To-night, in hell'

As he is going, enter LEONORA.

Ha! I'm surprised! I stagger at her charms!
Oh, angel-devil!-Shall I stab her now?
No-it shall be as I at first determined.
To kill her now, were half my vengeance lost.
Then must I now dissemble-if I can.

Leon. My lord, excuse me; see, a second time
I come in embassy from all your friends,
Whose joys are languid uninspired by you.

Alon. This moment, Leonora, I was coming To thee, and all-but sure, or I mistake, Or thou canst well inspire my friends with joy. Leon. Why sighs my lord?

Alon. I sighed not, Leonora.

Leon. I thought you did; your sighs are mine, my lord,

And I shall feel them all.

Alon. Dost flatter me!

Leon. If my regards for you are flattery, Full far indeed I stretched the compliment In this day's solemn rite.

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 chearfulness,

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,

Shall be cleared up, and thou shalt not condemn

me.

[Exit LEON.

Leon. How, my lord! I interrupt you.
Alon. No, my best life! I must not part with
thee

This hand is mine—Oh, 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?

I gaze, and I forget my own existence:
Tis all a vision-my head swims in heaven!
Wherefore! oh, wherefore this expence of
beauty?

And wherefore-Oh!

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. How, my lord! what mean you?
Acquaint me with the secret of your heart,
Or cast me out for ever from your love!
Alon. Art thou concerned for me?
Leon. My lord, you fright me.
Is this the fondness of your nuptial hour?
I am ill-used, my lord, I must not bear it.
Why, when I woo your hand, is it denied me?
Your very eyes, why are they taught to shun me?
Nay, my good lord, I have a title here,

[Taking his hand. And I will have it. Am not I your wife? Have not I just authority to know That heart which I have purchased 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, And deigns to be a beggar for her own! Tell me the secret, I conjure you tell me. The bride foregoes the homage of her day, Alvarez' daughter trembles in the dust. Speak, then, I charge you speak, or I expire, And load you with my death! My lord, my lord!

Alon. Ha, ha, ha!

[He breaks from her, and she sinks upon

the floor. Leon. Are these the joys which fondly I conceived?

And is it thus a wedded life begins?
What did I part with, when I gave my heart!
I knew not that all happiness went with it.
Why did I leave my tender father's wing,
And venture into love! The maid that loves,
Goes out to sea upon a shattered plank,
And puts her trust in miracles for safety.
Where shall I sigh? where pour out my com-
plaints?

He that should hear, should succour, should redress,

He is the source of all.

Alon. Go to thy chamber;

I soon will follow; that which now disturbs thee

her!

And rush into her blood!- -I never can!
In her guilt shines, and nature holds my hand.
How then? Why thus-No more; it is deter-
mined.

Enter ZANGA.

Zan. I fear his heart has failed 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 feared? our life much rather.

Life is the desert, life the solitude,
Death joins us to the great majority:
'Tis to be borne to Plato's, and to Cæsars;
'Tis to be great for ever;

'Tis pleasure, 'tis ambition then to die.

Zun. I think, my lord, you talked of death.
Alon. I did.

Zan. I give you joy; then Leonora's dead. Alon. No, Zanga, the greatest guilt is mine, 'Tis mine, who might have marked his midnight visit;

Who might have marked his tameness to resign her;

Who might have marked her sudden turn of love:
These, and a thousand tokens more; and yet
(For which the saints absolve my soul!) did wed.
Zan. Where does this tend?

Alon. To shed a woman's blood Would stain my sword, and make my wars inglorious;

But 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.

Zun. 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. Oh, through my heart and marrow !
Prithee spare me;

Nor more upbraid the weakness of thy lord.
I own, I tried, I quarrelled with my heart,
And pushed it on, and bid it give her death;
But, oh, her eyes struck first, and murdered me!
Zan. I know not what to answer to my lord.

Men are but men; we did not make ourselves.
Farewell, then, my best lord, since you must die.
Oh, that I were to share your monument,
And in eternal darkness close these eyes

fer!

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 sheathed in steel, and bent on other thoughts.
Zan. I'll work him to the murder of his friend.

[Aside.

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 first was tied,
Each man she meets will be a Carlos to her.
Alon. That thought has more of hell than had
the former.

Another, and another, and another!

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 called?
At Aulis, one poured out a daughter's life,
And gained more glory than by all his wars;
Another slew his 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, unenjoyed- -do that,
And tread upon the Greek and Roman glory.
Alon. 'Tis done!-Again new transports fire
my brain:

I had forgot it, 'tis my bridal night.
Friend, give me joy, we must be gay together;
See that the festival be duly honoured,
And when with garlands the full bowl is crowned,
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 night;
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 our nuptial bed, [Exeunt.