Muft I despise thee too, as well as hate thee?
Complain of grief, complain thou art a man.
Priam from fortune's lofty fummit fell;
Great Alexander 'midft his conquests mourn'd;
Heroes and demi-gods have known their forrows;
Cafars 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 confefs that I am juft:
Thou seeft a prince, whose father thou hast slain;
Whose native country thou haft laid in blood;
Whofe facred person, oh! thou haft prophan'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 men should ask who brought thee to thy end,
Tell them the Moor, and they will not despise thee:
If cold white mortals cenfure this great deed,
Warn them, they judge not of fuperior beings,
Souls made of fire, and children of the fun,
With whom Revenge is virtue. Fare thee well-
Now, fully fatisfy'd, I should take leave;
But one thing grieves me; fince thy death is near,
I leave thee my example how to die.
As he is going to ftab himself, Alonzo rushes upon him to prevent him. In the mean time, Enter Alvarez, attended. They difarm and feize Zanga. Alonzo puts the dagger in bis bofom.
No, monster, thou shalt not escape by death.
Touch'd with remorse to see her mistress' pangs,
Told all the dreadful tale.
What groan was that?
ZANGA..
As I have been a vulture to thy heart,
So will I be a raven to thine ear,
And true as ever snuff'd the scent of blood,
As ever flapt its heavy wing against
The window of the fick, and croak'd despair:
Thy wife is dead.
[Alvarez goes to the fide of the ftage, and returns.
ALVAREZ.
The dreadful news is true.
Prepare the rack; invent new torments for him.
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 reduc'd, thou would'st not know,
That, thus reduc'd, I dare defy thee still:
Torture thou may'ft; but thou fhalt ne'er despise me :
The blood will follow, where the knife is driven;
The flesh will quiver, where the pincers tear;
And fighs and cries by nature grow on pain:
But these are foreign to the foul: Not mine
The groans that iffue, or the tears that fall;
They disobey me; on the rack I fcorn thee,
As when my faulchion clove thy helm in battle.
ALVAREZ.
While I live, old man, I'll speak;
And, well I know, thou dar'st not kill me yet;
For that would rob thy blood-hounds of their prey.
Again!-'Tis Carlos' voice, and I obey.
O how I laugh at all that this can do! [Shewing the dagger.
The wounds that pain'd, the wounds that murder'd me,
Were given before; I am already dead;
This only marks my body for the grave.
Africk, thou art reveng'd.- -O Leonora !
Good ruffians, give me leave; my blood is yours;
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? Heav'ns, how pale!
And art thou dead? So is my enmity:
I war not with the duft: The great, the proud,
The conqueror of Africk, was my foe.
A lion preys not upon carcaffes.
This was the only method to fubdue me:
Terror and doubt fall on me; all thy good
Now blazes all thy guilt is in the grave:
Never had man fuch funeral applause;
If I lament thee, fure thy worth was great.
O vengeance! I have follow'd thee too far,
And to receive me hell blows all her fires. [He is borne off.
Dreadful effect of jealousy! a rage
In which the wife with caution will engage;
Reluctant long, and tardy to believe,
Where, fway'd by nature, we ourselves deceive;
Where our own folly joins the villain's art,
And each man finds a Zanga in his heart.
UR Author fent me, in an humble ftrain,
To beg you'd bless the offspring of his brain;
And I, your proxy, promis'd, in your name,
The Child fhould live, at least Six days of fame:
I like the Brat; but still his faults can find;
And by the Parent's leave will speak my mind.
Gallants, pray tell me, do you think 'twas well,
To let a willing maid lead apes in hell?
You, nicer Ladies, fhould you think it right
To eat no Supper on your Wedding-night?
Shou'd English Hufbands dare to ftarve their Wives,
Be fure, they'd lead moft comfortable lives.
But he loves mifchief, and, with groundless fears,
Wou'd fain fet loving couples by the ears;
Wou'd spoil the tender husbands of our nation,
By teaching them his vile outlandish fashion;
But we've been taught, in our good-natur'd clime,
That Jealoufy, tho' juft, is ftill a crime,
And will be ftill; for, (not to blame the plot)
That fame Alonzo was a stupid fot,
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