You bear a just resemblance of my fortune, And suit the gloomy habit of my soul.

Enter ISABELLA.

Who's there? My love!

Isa. Why have you left my bed?

Your absence more affrights me than the storm.
Zan. The dead alone in such a night can rest,
And I indulge my meditation here.
Woman, away. I choose to be alone.

Isa. I know you do, and therefore will not leave

you;

Excuse me, Zanga, therefore dare not leave you.
Is this is a night for walks of contemplation?
Something unusual hangs upon your heart,
And I will know it: by our loves, I will.
Ask I too much to share in your distress?

be plung'd

In hell's abyss, if ever it escape thee.

To strike thee with astonishment at once-
I hate Alonzo. First recover that,
And then thou shalt hear further.

Isa. Hate Alonzo!

I own, I thought Alonzo most your friend,
And that he lost the master in that name.

Zan. Hear then. 'Tis twice three years since
that great man

(Great let me call him, for he conquer'd me)
Made me the captive of his arm in fight.
He slew my father, and threw chains o'er me,
While I with pious rage pursued revenge.
I then was young; he plac'd me near his person,
And thought me not dishonour'd by his service.
One day (may that returning day be night,
The stain, the curse, of each succeeding year!)
For something, or for nothing, in his pride
He struck me. (While I tell it, do I live?)
He smote me on the cheek-I did not stab him,
For that were poor revenge-E'er since, his folly
Has strove to bury it beneath a heap
Of kindnesses, and thinks it is forgot.
Insolent thought! and like a second blow!
Affronts are innocent, where men are worthless;
And such alone can wisely drop revenge.

I lov'd fair Leonora long before

The chance of battle gave me to the Moors,
From whom so late Alonzo set me free;
And while I groan'd in bondage, I deputed
This great Alonzo, whom her father honours,
To be my gentle advocate in love,

To stir her heart, and fan its fires for me.
Man. And what success?

Car. Alas, the cruel maid

Indeed her father, who, though high in court,
And powerful with the king, has wealth at heart
To heal his devastations from the Moors.
Knowing I'm richly freighted from the east,
My fleet now sailing in the sight of Spain,
(Heaven guard it safe through such a dreadful
storm!)

Caresses me, and urges her to wed.
Man. Her aged father, see,
Leads her this way.

Car. She looks like radiant truth,
Brought forward by the hand of hoary time-
You to the port with speed; 'tis possible
Some vessel is arriv'd. Heaven grant it bring
Tidings which Carlos may receive with joy!

[Exit DON MANUEL

For from that day, the day of my dishonour,
From that day have I curs'd the rising sun,
Which never fail'd to tell me of my shame.
From that day have I bless'd the coming night,
Which promis'd to conceal it; but in vain;
The blow return'd for ever in my dream.
Yet on I toil'd, and groan'd for an occasion
Of ample vengeance; none has yet arrived.
Howe'er, at present, I conceive warm hopes
Of what may wound him sore in his ambition,
Life of his life, and dearer than his soul.
By nightly march he purpos'd to surprise
The Moorish camp; but I have taken care
They shall be ready to receive his favour.
Failing in this, a cast of utmost moment,
Would darken all the conquests he has won.
Isa. Just as I enter'd, an express arriv'd.
Zan. To whom?

Isa. His friend, Don Carlos.
Zan. Be propitious,

And earnest counsel.

Car. Angels second you!
For all my bliss or mis'ry hangs on it.

Alv. Daughter, the happiness of life depends
On our discretion, and a prudent choice.
Look into those they call unfortunate,
And, closer view'd, you'll find they are unwise:
Some flaw in their own conduct lies beneath.
Don Carlos is of ancient, noble blood,

And then his wealth might mend a prince's for

tune.

Good Carlos, by recounting of my faults,
And telling how ungrateful I have been.
Alas, my lord, if talking would prevail,
I could suggest much better arguments
Than those regards you throw away on me;
Your valour, honour, wisdom, prais'd by all.
But bid physicians talk our veins to temper,
And with an argument new set a pulse;
Then think, my lord, of reasoning into love.

Car. Must I despair then? do not shake me thus:

My temper-beaten heart is cold to death.
Ah, turn, and let me warm me in thy beauties.
Heavens! what a proof I gave, but two nights

past,

Of matchless love! To fling me at thy feet,
I slighted friendship, and I flew from fame;
Nor heard the summons of the next day's battle:
But darting headlong to thy arms, I left
The promis'd fight, I left Alonzo too,
To stand the war, and quell a world alone.

[Trumpets. Leon. The victor comes. My lord, I must withdraw.

Enter DON ALONZO.

Car. Alonzo!

[Exit.

Alon. Carlos!-I am whole again; Clasp'd in thy arms, it makes my heart entire. Car. Whom dare I thus embrace? The conquer of Afric.

Alon. Yes, much more-Don Carlos' friend. The conquest of the world would cost me dear, Should it beget one thought of distance in thee. I rise in virtues to come nearer to thee. I conquer with Don Carlos in mine eye, And thus I claim my victory's reward.

[Embraces him. Car. A victory indeed! your godlike arm Has made one spot the grave of Africa; Such numbers fell; and the survivors fled As frighted passengers from off the strand, When the tempestuous sea comes roaring on them.

Alon. 'Twas Carlos conquer'd, 'twas his cruel chains

Inflam'd me to a rage unknown before,
And threw my former actions far behind.
Car. I love fair Leonora. How I love her!
Yet still I find (I know not how it is)
Another heart, another soul, for thee.

Never was such a day of triumph known!—
There's not a wounded captive in my train,
That slowly follow'd my proud chariot wheels,
With half a life, and beggary, and chains,
But is a god to me: I am most wretched.-
In his captivity, thou know'st, Don Carlos,
My friend (and never was a friend more dear)
Deputed me his advocate in love,

To talk to Leonora's heart, and make
A tender party in her thoughts for him.
What did I do?—I lov'd myself. Indeed,
One thing there is might lessen my offence
(If such offence admits of being lessen'd;)
I thought him dead; for (by what fate I know not)
His letters never reach'd me.

Zan. Thanks to Zanga,

Who thence contriv'd that evil which has happen'd.

[Aside. Alon. Yes, curs'd of Heaven! I lov'd myself, and now,

In a late action, rescu'd from the Moors,
I have brought home my rival in my friend.
Zan. We hear, my lord, that in that action too,
Your interposing arm preserv'd his life.

Alon. It did with more than the expense of mind:

For, oh, this day is mention'd for their nuptials. But see, she comes; I'll take my leave and die.

[Retires Zan. Hadst thou a thousand lives, thy death would please me.

Unhappy fate! my country overcome!
My six years' hope of vengeance quite expir'd-
Would nature were-I will not fall alone:
But others' groans shall tell the world my death

Enter LEONORA.

[Eru

guilt,

A treason to your friend. You think mean of me, To plead your crimes as motives of my love. Alon. You, Madam, ought to thank those

crimes you blame!
'Tis they permit you to be thus inhuman,
Without the censure both of earth and Heaven-
I fondly thought a last look might be kind.
Farewell for ever.-This severe behaviour
Has, to my comfort, made it sweet to die.
Leon. Farewell for ever! Sweet to die! Oh,
Heaven!

Alonzo, stay; you must not thus escape me;
But hear your guilt at large.

Alon. Oh, Leonora !

What could I do?-In duty to my friend,
I saw you; and to see is to admire.
For Carlos did I plead, and most sincerely.
Witness the thousand agonies it cost me.

You know I did; I sought but your esteem;
If that is guilt, an angel had been guilty.

Leon. If from your guilt none suffer'd but yourself,

It might be so-Farewell.

Alon. Who suffers with me?

[Going.

Leon. Enjoy your ignorance, and let me go.
Alon. What mean these tears?

Leon. I weep by chance; nor have my tears a meaning.

But, oh, when first I saw Alonzo's tears,
I knew their meaning well!

[ALONZO falls on his knees, and takes her hand. Alon. Heavens! what is this? that excellence for which

Desire was planted in the heart of man; Virtue's supreme reward on this side heaven; The cordial of my soul-and this destroys meIndeed, I flatter'd me that thou didst hate.

Leon. Alonzo, pardon me the injury
Of loving you. I struggled with my passion,
And struggled long: let that be some excuse.
Alon. Unkind! you know I think your love a
blessing

Beyond all human blessings! 'tis the price
Of sighs and groans, and a whole year of dying.
But, oh, the curse of curses!-Oh, my friend!-
Leon. Alas!

Alon. What says my love? speak, Leonora?
Leon. Was it for you, my lord, to be so quick
In finding out objections to our love?
Think you so strong, my love, or weak my virtue,
It was unsafe to leave that part to me?
Alon. Is not the day then fix'd for your es.
pousals?
[way;
Leon. Indeed, my father once had thought that
But marking how the marriage pain'd my heart,
Long he stood doubtful; but at last resolv'd
Your counsel, which determines him in all,
Should finish the debate.

Alon. Oh, agony!

Must I not only lose her, but be made
Myself the instrument? not only die,

But plunge the dagger in my heart myself?
This is refining on calamity.

Leon. What, do you tremble lest you should be mine?

For what else can you tremble? not for that
My father places in your power to alter.
Alon. What's in my power? oh, yes, to stab
my friend!

Leon. To stab your friend were barbarous in-
deed!

Spare him and murder me.

Alon. First perish all!

No, Leonora, I am thine for ever.

Leon. Hold, Alonzo,

[Embraces her.

Zan. Is Alvarez

Determin❜d to deny his daughter to him?
That treasure was on shore; must that too join
The common wreck?

Man. Alvarez pleads, indeed,
That Leonora's heart is disinclin'd,
And pleads that only; so it was this morning,
When he concurr'd: the tempest broke the match
And sunk his favour, when it sunk the gold.
The love of gold is double in his heart;
The vice of age, and of Alvarez too.

Zan. How does Don Carlos bear it?
Man. Like a man

Whose heart feels most a human heart can feel,
And reasons best a human head can reason.

Zan. But is he then in absolute despair? Man. Never to see his Leonora more. And, quite to quench all future hope, Alvarez Urges Alonzo to espouse his daughter This very day; for he has learn'd their loves. Zan. Ha! was not that receiv'd with ecstasy By Don Alonzo?

Man. Yes, at first; but soon

A damp came o'er him, it would kill his friend. Zan. Not if his friend consented; and since

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 urg'd 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 Don Alvarez' self can then relieve me.
Zan. Alas, my lord, you know his heart is steel:
'Tis fix'd, '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.

A worse there is: nor can my nature bear it.
Zan. You have convinc'd me 'tis a dreadful

task.

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

Car. Thou dost upbraid me.

Zan. No, my good lord; but since you can't
comply,

'Tis my misfortune that I mention'd 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?
Oh, which side shall I take? Be stabb'd, or-stab?
"Tis equal death! a choice of agonies!-
Ah, no!-all other agonies are ease
To one-O, 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'm bound in duty to obey

years

Nay, what, indeed, the age of time itself,
Since cut from out eternity's wide round?
Yet Leonora-she can make time long,
Its nature alter, as she alter'd mine.
While in the lustre of her charms I lay,
Whole summer suns roll'd unperceiv'd away;
I years for days, and days for moments told,
And was surpris'd to hear that I grew old.
Now fate does rigidly its dues regain,
And every moment is an age of pain.
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.
Car. I cannot yield; nor can I bear his griefs.
Alonzo; [Goes to him, and takes 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 lov'd 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, curs'd Alvarez!-So much anguish
Felt for so small a failure, is one merit