How I'm not call'd Alphonso now, but Osmyn; And he Heli. All, all, he will unfold,

Ere next we meet

Alm. Sure we shall meet again

Osm. We shall; we part not but to meet again.

Gladness and warmth of ever kindling love
Dwell with thee, and revive thy heart in absence.
[Exeunt ALMERIA, LEONORA, and HELI.
Yet I behold her-yet-and now no more.
Turn your lights inward, eyes, and view my
thoughts,

So shall you still behold her-'twill not be.
Oh, impotence of sight! Mechanic sense!
Which to exterior objects ow'st thy faculty,
Not seeing of election, but necessity.
Thus do our eyes, as do all common mirrors,
Successively reflect succeeding images:
Not what they would, but must; a star, or toad;
Just as the hand of chance administers.
Not so the mind, whose undetermin'd view
Revolves, and to the present adds the past;
Essaying farther to futurity;

But that in vain. I have Almeria here
At once, as I before have seen her often-

me;

Lost in myself, and blinded by my thoughts,
I saw you not till now.

Zar. Now then you see me-
But with such dumb and thankless eyes you look,
Better I was unseen, than seen thus coldly.

Osm. What would you from a wretch who

came to mourn, And only for his sorrows choose this solitude? Look round; joy is not here, nor cheerfulness, You have pursu'd misfortune to its dwelling, Yet look for gaiety and gladness there.

Zar. Inhuman! Why, why dost thou rack me thus ?

And with perverseness, from the purpose, answer?

What is't to me, this house of misery?
What joy do I require? if thou dost mourn,

So quickly was it love; for thou wert godlike Even then. Kneeling on earth, I loos'd my hair,

And with it dried thy watery cheeks, then chaf'd

Thy temples, till reviving blood arose,

And, like the morn, vermilion'd o'er thy face.
Oh, Heaven! how did my heart rejoice and
ache,

When I heheld the day-break of thy eyes,
And felt the balm of thy respiring lips!

Osm. Oh, call not to my mind what you have done,

It sets a debt of that account before me,
Which shows me poor and bankrupt even in

hopes.

Zar. The faithful Selim, and my women,

know

The danger which I tempted to conceal you. You know how I abus'd the credulous king; What arts I used to make you pass on him, When he received you as the prince of Fez; And as my kinsman, honour'd and advanc'd

you.

Oh, why do I relate what I have done?
What did I not? Was't not for you this war
Commenc'd? not knowing who you were, nor
why

You hated Manuel, I urg'd my husband
To this invasion: where he late was lost,
Where all is lost, and I am made a slave.

*Osm. You pierce my soul—I own it all—But

while

The power is wanting to repay such benefits, 'Tis treble anguish to a generous heart.

Zar. Repay me with thy heart-What! dost thou start?

Make no reply! Is this thy gratitude?
Look on me now, from empire fallen to slavery;
Think on my sufferings first, then look on me;
Think on the cause of all, then view thyself:
Reflect on Osmyn, and then look on Zara,
The fallen, the lost, and now the captive Zara
And now abandon'd- -Say, what then is Os-
myn?

Osm. A fatal wretch-A huge, stupendous

ruin,

That tumbling on its prop, crush'd all beneath, And bore contiguous palaces to earth.

Zar. Yet thus, thus fallen, thus levell'd with the vilest,

If I have gain'd thy love, 'tis glorious ruin;
Ruin! 'tis still to reign and to be more

*The lines printed in Italics are not in the original, but are now given to the reader as delivered in the 15presentation at Drury-lane theatre.

A queen; for what are riches, empire, power,
But larger means to gratify the will?
The steps on which we tread, to rise and reach
Our wish; and that obtain'd, down with the
scaffolding

Of sceptres, crowns, and thrones: they've serv'd their end,

And are, like lumber, to be left and scorn'd.

'Tis daring for a god. Hence to the wheel With that Ixion, who aspires to hold Divinity embraced; to whips and prisons Drag him with speed, and rid me of his face.

throw

In bonds the frame of this exalted mind?

Zar. We may be free; the conqueror is

mine;

In chains unseen I hold him by the heart,
And can unwind and strain him as I please.
Give me thy love, I'll give thee liberty.

Osm. In vain you offer, and in vain require What neither can bestow. Set free yourself, And leave a slave the wretch that would be so. Zar. Thou canst not mean so poorly as thou talk'st.

Osm. Alas! you know me not.

Zar. Not who thou art:

But what this last ingratitude declares,
This grovelling baseness-Thou say'st true, I

know

Thee not; for what thou art yet wants a name;
But something so unworthy and so vile,
That to have lov'd thee makes me yet more lost,
Than all the malice of my other fate.
Traitor, monster, cold, and perfidious slave;
A slave not daring to be free! nor dares
To love above him; for 'tis dangerous.
'Tis that I know; for thou dost look, with eyes
Sparkling desire, and trembling to possess.
I know my charms have reach'd thy very soul,
And thrill'd thee through with darted fires; but

King. Why does the fairest of her kind with-
draw

Her shining from the day, to gild this scene
Of death and night? Ha! what disorder 's this?
Somewhat I heard of king and rival mention'd.
What's he that dares be rival to the king,
Or lift his eyes to like where I adore?

Zar. There, he, your prisoner, and that was
my slave,

King. How! better than my hopes! Does she accuse him?

[Aside.

Zar. Am I become so low by my captivity, And do your arms so lessen what they conquer, That Zara must be made the sport of slaves? And shall the wretch, whom yester sun beheld Waiting my nod, the creature of my power, Presume to-day to plead audacious love, And build bold hopes on my dejected fate? King. Better for him to tempt the rage of Heaven,

And wrench the bolt red hissing from the hand Of him that thunders, than but to think that insolence.

solence,

And what was charity he construed love.
King. Enough; his punishment be what you
please.

But let me lead you from this place of sorrow,
To one where young delights attend, and joys
Yet new, unborn, and blooming in the bud,
Which wait to be full-blown at your approach,
And spread, like roses, in the morning sun;
Where every hour shall roll in circling joys,
And love shall wing the tedious-wasting day.
Life, without love, is load; and time stands still:
What we refuse to him, to death we give ;
And then, then only, when we love, we live.
[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I-A Prison.

OSMYN with a Paper.

Osm. But now, and I was closed within the tomb That holds my father's ashes; and but now, Where he was prisoner, I am too imprison'd. Sure 'tis the hand of Heaven that leads me thus And for some purpose points out these remem

brances.

In a dark corner of my cell I found
This paper; what it is this light will show.
If my Alphonso-Ha!
[Reading

If my Alphonso live, restore him, Heaven;
Give me more weight, crush my declining years,
With bolts, with chains, imprisonment and want;
But bless my son, visit not him for me.
It is his hand; this was his prayer-yet more:
Let every hair, which sorrow by the roots

[Reading.

Tears from my hoary and devoted head, Be doubled in thy mercies to my son: Not for myself, but him, hear me all-gracious'Tis wanting what should follow-Heaven should follow,

But 'tis torn off-Why should that word alone
Be torn from this petition? 'Twas to Heaven,
But Heaven was deaf, Heaven heard him not;
but thus,

Thus as the name of Heaven from this is torn,
So did it tear the ears of mercy from
His voice, shutting the gates of prayer against him.
If piety be thus debarr'd access

On high, and of good men the very best
Is singled out to bleed, and bear the scourge,
What is reward? Or what is punishment?
But who shall dare to tax eternal justice!
Yet I may think-I may, I must; for thought
Precedes the will to think, and error lives
Ere reason can be born. Reason, the power
To guess at right and wrong, the twinkling lamp
Of wandering life, that winks and wakes by turns,
Fooling the followers, betwixt shade and shining
What noise! Who's there? My friend? How
cam'st thou hither?

Enter HELI.

Heli. The time 's too precious to be spent in telling.

The captain, influenc'd by Almeria's power,
Gave order to the guards for my admittance.

Osm. How does Almeria ? But I know she is As I am. Tell me, may I hope to see her?

Heli. You may. Anon, at midnight, when the king

Is gone to rest, and Garcia is retired,
(Who takes the privilege to visit late,
Presuming on a bridegroom's right) she'll come.
Osm. She'll come; 'tis what I wish, yet what
I fear.

She'll come; but whither, and to whom? Oh,
Heaven,

To a vile prison, and a captiv'd wretch;
To one, whom had she never known, she had
Been happy. Why, why was that heavenly crea-

ture

Abandon'd o'er to love what Heaven forsakes?
Why does she follow, with unwearied steps,
One, who has tired misfortune with pursuing?
One driv'n about the world, like blasted leaves,
And chaff, the sport of adverse winds; till late,
At length imprison'd in some cleft of rock,
On earth it rests, and rots to silent dust.

Heli. Have hopes, and hear the voice of better fate.

I've learn'd there are disorders ripe for mutiny Among the troops, who thought to share the plunder,

Which Manuel to his own use and avarice Converts. This news has reach'd Valentia's

frontiers,

Where many of your subjects, long oppress'd
With tyranny, and grievous impositions,
Are risen in arms, and call for chiefs to head
And lead them to regain their rights and liberty.
Osm. By Heavens thou❜ast roused me from my
lethargy.

The spirit which was deaf to my own wrongs,
And the loud cries of my dead father's blood,
Deaf to revenge-nay, which refus'd to hear'
The piercing sighs and murmurs of my love
Yet unenjoy'd; what not Almeria could
Revive or raise, my people's voice has waken'd.
Heli. Our posture of affairs, and scanty time,
My lord, require you should compose yourself.
Osm. Oh, my Antonio, I am all on fire;
My soul is up in arms, ready to charge
And bear amidst the foe with conquering troops.
I hear 'em call to lead 'em on to liberty,
To victory, their shouts and clamours rend
My ears, and reach the heavens. Where is the
king?

Where is Alphonso? Ha! where? where indeed!
Oh, I could tear and burst the strings of life,
To break these chains. Off, off, ye stains of
royalty;

Off, slavery. Oh, curse! that I alone
Can beat and flutter in my cage, when I
Would soar and stoop at victory beneath.

Heli. Abate this ardour, Sir, or we are lost.
Our posture of affairs and scanty time,
My lord, require you should compose yourself,
And think on what we may reduce to practice.
Zara, the cause of your restraint, may be
The means of liberty restor❜d. That gain'd,
Occasion will not fail to point out ways
For your escape. Mean time, I've thought already

So do. I will, with patience, wait my fortune.
Heli. When Zara comes, abate of your aversion.
Osm. I hate her not, nor can dissemble love:
But as I may I'll do. I have a paper
Which I would show thee, friend, but that the
sight

Would hold thee here, and clog thy expedition.
Within I found it; by my father's hand
'Twas writ; a prayer for me, wherein appears
Paternal love prevailing o'er his sorrows;
Such sanctity, such tenderness, so mix'd
With grief, as would draw tears from inhumanity.

Heli. The care of providence sure left it there,
To arm your mind with hope. Such piety
Was never heard in vain. Heaven has in store
For you those blessings it withheld from him.
In that assurance live; which time, I hope,
And our next meeting will confirm.

Osm. Farewell,

Osm. What brightness breaks upon me thus through shades,

And promises a day to this dark dwelling?
Is it my love?—

[Lifting her veil

Zar Oh, that thy heart had taught
Thy tongue that saying!
Ósm. Zara! I am betray'd
By my surprise.

Zar. What! does my face displease thee?
That, having seen it, thou dost turn thy eyes
Away, as from deformity and horror?
If so, this sable curtain shall again

Be drawn, and I will stand before thee, seeing,
And unseen. Is it my love? Ask again
That question; speak again in that soft voice;
And look again with wishes in thy eyes.
Oh, no! thou canst not, for thou seest me now
As she whose savage breast has been the cause
Of these thy wrongs; as she whose barbarous

No, no, it must be hatred, dire revenge,
And detestation, that could use thee thus.
So dost thou think; then do but tell me so;
Tell me, and thou shalt see how I'll revenge
Thee on this false one, how I'll stab and tear
This heart of flint, 'till it shall bleed; and thou
Shalt weep for mine, forgetting thy own miseries.
Osm. You wrong me, beauteous Zara, to be-
lieve

I bear my fortunes with so low a mind,
As still to meditate revenge on all
Whom chance, or fate, working by secret causes,
Has made, perforce, subservient to that end
The heavenly powers allot me; no, not you,
But destiny and inauspicious stars
Have cast me down to this low being. Or
Granting you had, from you I have deserved it.
Zar. Canst thou forgive me, then? wilt thou
believe

So kindly of my fault, to call it madness?
Oh, give that madness yet a milder name,
And call it passion! then be still more kind,
And call that passion love.

Osm. Give it a name,

Or being, as you please, such I will think it. Zar. Oh, thou dost wound me more with this thy goodness,

Than e'er thou couldst with bitterest reproaches? Thy anger could not pierce thus to my heart. Osm. Yet I could wish

Zar. Haste me to know it; what?

But she has passions which outstrip the wind,
And tear her virtues up, as tempests root
The sea. I fear, when she shall know the truth,
Some swift and dire event of her blind rage
Will make all fatal. But behold, she comes
For whom I fear, to shield me from my fears,
The cause and comfort of my boding heart.

Enter ALMERIA.

My life, my health, my liberty, my all!
How shall I welcome thee to this sad place?
How speak to thee the words of joy and transport?
How run into thy arms, withheld by fetters;
Or take thee into mine, while I'm thus manacled
And pinion'd like a thief or murderer?
Shall I not hurt and bruise thy tender body,
And stain thy bosom with the rust of these
Rude irons? Must I meet thee thus, Almeria ?
Alm. Thus, thus; we parted, thus to meet
again.

Thou told'st me thou wouldst think how we might

thing.

Zar. What thing?

Osm. This slave.

Zar. Oh Heaven! my fears interpret
This thy silence; somewhat of high concern,
Long fashioning within thy labouring mind,
And now just ripe for birth, my rage has ruin'd.
Have I done this? Tell me, am I so curs'd?
Osm. Time may have still one fated hour to
come,

Which, wing'd with liberty, might overtake
Occasion past.

Zar. Swift as occasion, I

Myself will fly; and earlier than the morn,
Wake thee to freedom. Now 'tis late; and yet
Some news, few minutes past, arriv'd, which
seem'd

To shake the temper of the king-Who knows
What racking cares disease a monarch's bed?
Or love, that late at night still lights his lamp,
And strikes his rays through dusk and folded lids,
Forbidding rest, may stretch his eyes awake,
And force their balls abroad at this dead hour.

I'll try.

Osm. I have not merited this grace; Nor, should my secret purpose take effect, Can I repay, as you require, such benefits. Zar. Thou canst not owe me more, nor have

I more

To give, than I have already lost. But now,
So does the form of our engagements rest,
Thou hast the wrong till I redeem thee hence;
That done, I leave thy justice to return
My love. Adieu.

Osm. This woman has a soul

[Exit.

Of godlike mould, intrepid and commanding,
And challenges, in spite of me, my best

Esteem; to this, she's fair, few more can boast
Of personal charms, or with less vanity
Migat hope to captivate the hearts of kings;

Alm. Oh, say not so!

Do not say,

Though 'tis because thou lov'st me.
On any terms, that thou dost wish me from thee.
No, no, 'tis better thus, that we together
Feed on each other's heart, devour our woes
With mutual appetite; and mingling in
One cup the common stream of both our eyes,
Dring bitter draughts, with never slaking thirst;
Thus better, than for any cause to part.
What dost thou think? Look not so tenderly
Upon me-speak, and take me in thy arms-
Thou canst not; thy poor arms are bound, and

strive

Indeed, if that he so! if I'm thy torment,
Kill me, then, kill me, dash me with thy chains,
Tread on me: What, am I the bosom-snake
That sucks thy warm life-blood, and gnaws thy
heart?

Oh, that thy words had force to break those bonds,
As they have strength to tear this heart in sunder;
So should'st thou be at large from all oppression.
Am I, am I of all thy woes the worst?

Osm. My all of bliss, my everlasting life,
Soul of my soul, and end of all my wishes,
Why dost thou thus unman me with thy words,
And melt me down to mingle with thy weepings?
Why dost thou ask? Why dost thou talk thus!
piercingly?

Thy sorrows have disturb'd thy peace of mind,
And thou dost speak of miseries impossible.
Alm. Didst not thou say that racks and wheels
were balm

And beds of ease, to thinking me thy wife?
Osm. No, no, nor should the subtlest pains

that hell

Or hell-born malice can invent, extort

A wish or thought from me to have thee other.
But thou wilt know what harrows up my heart:
Thou art my wife-nay, thou art yet my
bride?-

The sacred union of connubial love
Yet unaccomplish'd: his mysterious rites
Delay'd; nor has our hymeneal torch

Yet lighted up his last most grateful sacrifice; But dash'd with rain from eyes, and swal'd with sighs,

Burns dim, and glimmers with expiring light.
this dark cell a temple for that god?
Or this vile earth an altar for such offerings?
This den for slaves, this dungeon damp'd with

Th' extremest malice of our fate can hinder:
That still is left us, and on that we'll feed,
As on the leavings of calamity.

There we will feast and smile on past distress,
And hug, in scorn of it, our mutual ruin.

Osm. Oh, thou dost talk, my love, as one resolv'd,

Because not knowing danger. But look forward; Think of to-morrow, when thou shalt be torn From these weak, struggling, unextended arms: Think how my heart will heave, and eyes will strain

To grasp and reach what is deny'd my hands: Think how the blood will start, and tears will gush,

To follow thee, my separating soul.

Think who I am, when thou shalt wed with Garcia!

Then will I smear these walls with blood, disfigure And dash my face, and rive my clotted hair, Break on the flinty floor my throbbing breast,

And grovel with gash'd halus to scratch a grave, Stripping my nails to tear this pavement up, And bury me alive.

Alm. Heart-breaking horror!

Osm. Then Garcia shall lie panting on thy bosom,

Luxurious, revelling amidst thy charms;
And thou perforce must yield, and aid his trans
port.

Hell! Hell! have I not cause to rage and rave?
What are all racks, and wheels, and whips to this?
Are they not soothing softness, sinking ease,
And wafting air to this? Oh, my Almeria !
What do the damn'd endure, but to despair,
But knowing Heaven, to know it lost for ever!
Alm. Oh, I am struck; thy words are bolts of

Perdition catch 'em both, and ruin part 'em! Osm. This charity to one unknown, and thus [Aloud to ALMERIA as she goes out. Distress'd Heaven will repay; all thanks are poor. [Exit ALMERIA. Zar. Damn'd, damn'd dissembler! Yet I will

be calm, Choke in my rage, and know the utmost depth Of this deceiver-You seem much surpris d

Osm. At your return so soon and unexpected! Zar. And so unwish'd, unwanted too, it seems Confusion! Yet I will contain myself. You're grown a favourite since last we parted; Perhaps I'm saucy and intruding— Osm. Madam!

Zar. I did not know the princess' favourite.