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Dor. No, I'll stay to encourage you at your Lean. Faith, doctor, I wish I could do that it death; nor will I budge an inch, till I've seen you return for your having made me an apothecary; hanged.

but I'll do as well for thee, I warrant. Enter LEANDER and CHARLOTTE.

Dor. So, so, our physician, I find, has brought Lean. Behold, Sir, that Leander, whom you about fine matters. And is it not owing to me, had forbid your house, restores your daughter to sirrah, that you have been a physician at all ? your power, even when he had her in his. I have Sir J. May I beg to know whether you are a received letters

, by which I have learnt the death physician or not, or what the devil you are ? of an uncle, whose estate far exceeds that of your

Greg. I think, Sir, after the miraculous cure intended son-in-law.

you have seen me perform, you have no reason to Sir J. Sir, your virtue is beyond all estates, and ask, whether I am a physician or do. And for I give you my daughter with all the pleasure in you, wife, I'll henceforth have you behave with the world.

all deference to my greatness; for a faggot-maker Lean. Now my fortune makes me happy in- can only thrash your jacket, but a physician, deed, my dearest Charlotte. And, doctor, in he make thy fortune too.

Dor. Can pick your pocket. Why, thou parGreg. If you would be so kind to make me a

ed up fool! I could have made as good a phrsirian physician in earnest, I should desire no other for myself; the cure was owing to the apothecary,


not the doctor.


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For that damn’d poet's spar'd, who damns a

brother, The time has been when plays were not so As one thief 'scapes that executes another. plenty,

Thus far alone does to the wits relate; And a less number, new, would well content ye. But from the rest we hope a better fate. New plays did then like almanacks appear, To please, and move, has been our poet's theme, And one was thought sufficient for a year : Art may direct, but nature is his aim; Though they are more like almanacks of late; And nature miss'd, in vain he boasts his art, For in one year, I think, they're out of date. For only nature can affect the heart. Nor were they, without reason, joined together; Then freely judge the scenes that shall ensue; For just as one prognosticates the weather, But as with freedom, judge with candour too. How plentiful the crop, or scarce the grain, He would not lose, through prejudice, his What peals of thunder, or what showers of

cause; rain;

Nor would obtain, precariously, applause.
So t'other can foretell, by certain rules,

Impartial censure he requests from all,
What crops of coxcombs, or what floods of fools. Prepar'd by just decrees to stand or fall.
In such like prophecies were poets skill'd,
Which now they find in their own tribe fulfill’d.
The dearth of wit they did so long presage,
Is fallen on us, and almost starves the stage.

Were you not griev'd, as often as you saw
Poor actors thrash such empty sheafs of straw?

SCENE I.-A Room of State.
Toiling and labouring at their lungs' expense,
To start a jest, or force a little sense?

The Curtain rising slowly to soft Music, discorers Hard fate for us, still harder in the event :

ALMERIA in Mourning, Leonora waiting in Our authors sin, but we alone repent.

Mourning Stiil they proceed, and, at our charge, write After the Music, Almeria rises from her Chair, worse;

and comes forward. 'Twere some amends, if they could reimburse ; But there 's the devil, though their cause is lost, Almeria. Music has charms to sooth a savage There's no recovering damages or cost.

breast, Good wits, forgive this liberty we take,

To soften rocks, or hend a knotted oak. Since custom gives the losers leave to speak. I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd, But, if provok’d, your dreadful wrath remains, And, as with living souls, have been inform'd Take your revenge upon the coming scenes : By magic numbers and persuasive sound.

What then am I? Am I more senseless grown No, I will live to be thy monument: Than trees or flint? O, force of constant wo, The cruel ocean is no more thy tomb: 'Tis not in harmony to calm my griefs.

But in my heart thou art interr'd; there, there, Anselmo sleeps, and is at peace; last night Thy dear resemblance is for ever fix'd; The silent tomb receiv'd the good old king; My love, my lord, my husband still, though lost. He and his sorrows now are safely lodg'd

Leon. Husband! Oh, Heavens! Within its cold, but hospitable bosom.

Alm. Alas! what have I said ? Why am not I at peace ?

My grief has hurried me beyond all thought Leon. Dear Madam, cease,

I would have kept that secret; though I know Or moderate your grief; there is no cause Thy love and faith to me deserve all confidence. Alm. No cause ! Peace, peace! there is eternal But 'tis the wretch's comfort still to have cause,

Some small reserve of near and inward wo, And misery eternal will succeed.

Some unsuspected hoard of darling grief, Thou canst not tell thou hast indeed no cause. Which they unseen may wail, and weep, and Leon. Believe me, Madam, I lament Anselmo,

mourn, And always did compassionate his fortune; And, glutton-like, alone devour. Have often wept, to see how cruelly

Leon. Indeed, Your father kept in chains his fellow-king: I knew not this. And oft, at night, when all have been retird, Alm. Oh, no, thou know'st not half, Have stolen fronı bed, and to his prison crept; Know’st nothing of my sorrows-if thou didstWhere, while his gaoler slept, 'I through the If I should tell thee, wouldst thou pity me? grate

Tell me I know thou wouldst; thou art comHave softly whisper'd, and inquir'd his health ;

passionate. Sent in my sighs and pray’rs for his deliverance; Leon. Witness these tearsFor sighs and pray’rs were all that I could offer. Alm. I thank thee, LeonoraAlm. Indeed thou hast a soft and gentle Indeed I do, for pitying thy sad mistress: nature,

For 'tis, alas! the poor prerogative That thus could melt to see a stranger's wrongs. Of greatness, to be wretched, and unpitiedOh, Leonora, hadst thou known Anselmo, But I did promise I would tell thee- What? How would thy heart have bled to see his suf- My miseries! Thou dost already know 'em: ferings!

And when I told thee thou didst nothing know, Thou hadst no cause but general compassion. It was because thou didst not know Alphons : Leon. Love of my royal mistress gave me For to have known my loss, thou must have cause,

known My love of you begot my grief for him ;

His worth, his truth, and tenderness of love. For I heard that when the chance of war

Leon. The memory of that brave prince stands
Had bless'd Anselmo's arms with victory,
And the rich spoil of all the field, and you,

In all report-
The glory of the whole, were made the prey And I have heard imperfectly his loss ;
Of his success; that then, in spite of hate, But, fearful to renew your troubles past,
Revenge, and that hereditary feud

I never did presume to ask the story.
Between Valentia's and Granada's kings,

Alm. If for my swelling heart I can, I'll tell He did endear himself to your affection,

thee. By all the worthy and indulgent ways

I was a welcome captive in Valentia, His most industrious goodness could invent; E'en on the day when Manuel, my father, Proposing, by a match between Alphonso Led on his conquering troops high as the gates His sou, the brave Valentian prince, and you, Of king Anselmo's palace; which, in rage, To end the long dissension, and unite

And heat of war, and dire revenge. he fir'd. The jarring crowns.

The good king, flying to avoid the flames, Aim. Alphonso! O, Alphonso !

Started amidst his foes, and made captivity Thou too art quiet-long hast been at peace- His fatal refuge-Would that I had fallen Both, both-father and son are now no more. Amidst those tames--but 'twas not so decreed. Then why am I? Oh, when shall I have rest? Alphonso, who foresaw my father's cruelty, Why do I live to say you are no more?

Had borne the queen and me on board a ship Why are all these things thus ?-Is it of force ? Ready to sail; and when this news was brought Is there necessity I must be miserable ?

We put to sea; but being betray'd by some Is it of moment to the peace of Heaven,

Who knew our flight, we closely were pursu'd, That I should be afflicted thus ?-If not,

And almost taken, when a sudden storm Why is it thus contriv'd? Why are things laid Drove us, and those that follow d on the coast By some unseen hand, so, as of sure conse. Of Afric: there our vessel struck the shore quence,

And bulging 'gainst a rock, was dash'd in pieces; They must to me bring curses, grief of heart, But Heaven spar'd me for yet much more afficThe last distress of life, and sure despair ?

tion: Leon. Alas! you search too far, and think too Conducting them who follow'd us, to shun deeply.

The shore, and save me floating on the waves, Alm. Why was I carried to Anselmo's court ? While the good queen and my Alphonso perishd Or there, why was I used so tenderly ?

Leon. Alas! were you then wedded to Ab Why not ill treated like an enemy?

phonso ? For so my father would have used his child. Alm. That day, that fatal day, our hands were Oh, Alpkonso, Alphonso !

join'd. Devouring seas have wash'd thee from my sight. For when my lord beheld the ship pursuing, No time shall raze thee from my memory ;

And saw her rate so far exceeding ours,


fle came to me, and begg'd me by my love, Nor violence-I feel myself more light, I would consent the priest should make us one ; And more at large, since I have made this vow. That whether death or victory ensued

Perhaps I would repeat it there more solemnly.
I might be his, beyond the power of fate; 'Tis that, or some such melancholy thought,
The queen too did assist his suit—I granted; Upon my word, no more.
And in one day was wedded and a widow.

Leon. I will attend you.
Leon. Indeed 'twas mournful-
Alm. 'Twas as I have told thee-

For which I mourn, and will for ever mourn; Alon. The lord Gonsalez comes to tell your
Nor will I change these black and dismal rubes,
Or ever dry these swoln and watery eyes;

highness Or ever taste content or peace of heart,

The king is just arrivd. While I have life, and thought of my Alphonso. That's his pretence; his errand is, I know,

Alm. Conduct him in.

(Erit Alon. leon. Look down, good Heaven, with pity on To fill my ears with Garcia's valiant deeds ; her sorrows,

And gild and magnify bis son's exploits.
And grant that time may bring her some relief.
Alm. Oh, no! time gives increase to my afflic- Not to be warm'd with words, or idle eloquence.

But I am arm’d with ice around my heart,
The circling hours, that gather all the woes
Which are diffus'd through the revolving year,

Come heavy laden with th' oppressive weight Gon. Be every day of your long life like this.
To me; with me, successively, they leave The sun, bright conquest, and your brighter eyes,
The sighs, the tears, the groans, the restless Have all conspir'd to blaze promiscuous light,

And bless this day with most unequall'd lustre. And all the damps of grief, that did retard their Your royal father, my victorious lord, flight:

Loaden with spoils, and ever-living laurel, They shake their downy wings, and scatter all Is entering now, in martial pomp, the palace. The dire collected dews on my poor head : Five hundred mules precede his solemn march, Then fly with joy and swiftness from me. Which groan beneath the weight of Moorish Lean. Hark! [Shouts at a distance.

wealth. The distant shouts proclaim your father's triumph. Chariots of war, adorn'd with glittering gems, O cease, for Heaven's sake, assuage a little Succeed; and next, a hundred neighing steeds, This torrent of your grief, for this, I fear, White as the fleecy rain on Alpine hills, "Twill urge his wrath, to see you drown'd in That bound and foam, and champ the golden lit, tears,

As they disdain'd the victory they grace. When joy appears in every other face.

Prisoners of war, in shining fetters follow: Alm. And joy he brings to every other heart, And captains of the noblest blood of Afric But double, double weight of wo to mine: Sweat by his chariot wheel, and lick and grind, For with him Garcia comes-Garcia, to whom With gnashing teeth, the dust his triumphs raise. I must be sacrific'd, and all the vows

The swarming populace spread every wall, I gave my dear Alphonso basely broken.

And cling, as if with claws they did enforce No, it shall never be ; for I will die

Their hold; through clifted stones-stretching and First, die ten thousand deaths-Look down, look

staring, down,

As if they were all eyes, and every limb Alphonso, hear the sacred vow I make; (Kneels. Would feed its faculty with admiration : One moment, cease to gaze on perfect bliss, While you alone retire, and shun this sight; And bend thy glorious eyes to earth and me. This sight, which is indeed not seen, (though And thou, Anselmo, if yet thou art arriv'd,

twice Through all impediments of purging fire, The multitude should gaze) in absence of your To that bright Heaven, where my Alphonso

eyes. reigns,

Alm. My lord, my eyes ungratefully behold Behold thou also, and attend my vow.

The gilded trophies of exterior honours. If ever I do yield, or give consent,

Nor will my ears be charmed with sounding words, By any action, word,

or thought, to wed Or pompous phrase, the pageantry of souls. Another lord; may then just Heaven shower But that my father is return'd in safety, down

I bend to Heaven with thanks. Unheard of curses on me, greater far

Gon. Excellent princess !(If such there be in angry Heaven's vengeance) But 'tis a task unfit for my weak age That any I have yet endur'd-And now With dying words to offer at your praise.

(Rising. Garcia, my son, your beauty's lowest slave, My heart has some relief; having so well Has better done, in proving with his sword Discharg'd this debt, incumbent on my love. The force and influence of your matchless charms. Yet, one thing more I would engage from thee. Alm. I doubt not of the worth of Garcia's Leon. My heart, my life, and will, are only

deeds, yours.

Which had been brave though I had ne'er been Alm. I thank thee. 'Tis but this, anon:

born. when all

Leon. Madam, the king.

(Flourish Are wrapp'd and busied in the general joy, Alm. My women. I would meet him. Thou wilt withdraw, and privately with me

(Attendants to ALMERIA enter in mourning. Steal forth, to visit good Anselmo's tomb.

Leon. Alas! I fear some fatal resolution. Symphony of warlike Music. Enter the Kinli, Alm. No. on my life, my faith, I mean no ill, attended by GARCIA and several Officers. Files

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sure, Sir ?

of Prisoners in chains, and Guards, who are | To-day. Retire; divest yourself with speed ranged in order round the Stage. ALMERIA Of that offensive black; on me be all meets the King, and kneels : afterwards Gon. The violation of your vow; for you, SALEZ kneels, and kisses the King's hand, while It shall be your excuse, that I command it GARCIA does the same to the PRINCESS.

Gar. (Kneeling.) Your pardon, Sir, if I pre

sume so far, King. Almeria, rise-My best Gonsalez, rise. As to remind you of your gracious promise. What, tears ! my good old friend

King. Rise, Garcia.— I forgot. Yet stay, AL Gon. But tears of joy.

meria. Believe me, Sir, to see you thus, has fillid

Alm. My boding heart!—What is your plesMine eyes with more delight than they can hold. King. By Heaven, thou lov'st me, and I'm King. Draw near, and give your hand, and pleas'd thou dost ;

Garcia, yours : Take it for thanks, old man, that I rejoice Receive this lord, as one whom I bare found To see thee weep on this occasion-Some Worthy to be your husband, and my son. Here are, who seem to mourn at our success! Gar. Thus let me kneel to také-0, not to Why is 't, Almeria, that you meet our eyes,

takeUpon this solemn day, in these sad weeds ? But to devote, and yield myself for ever In opposition to my brightness, you

The slave and creature of my royal mistress. And yours are all like daughters of affliction. Gon. O, let me prostrate pay my worthless Alm. Forgive me, Sir, it I in this offend.

thanks-The year which I have vow'd to pay to Heaven, King. No more; my promise long since pesad, In mourning and strict life for my deliverance

thy services, From wreck and death, wants yet to be expird. And Garcia's well-tried valour, all oblige me. King. Your zeal to Heaven is great, so is your This day we triumph; but to-morrow's sun, debt:

Garcia, shall shine to grace thy nuptialsYet something too is due to me, who gave

Alm. Oh!

(Faits. That life, which Heaven preserv'd. A day be- Gar. She faints! help to support her. stow'd

Gon. She recovers. In filial duty, had aton'd and given

King. A fit of bridal fear. Howis't, Almeria ? A dispensation to your vow--No more!

Alm. A sudden chillness seizes on my spirits. 'Twas weak and wilful--and a woman's error. Your leave, Sir, to retire. Yet, upon thought, it doubly wounds my sight, King. Garcia, conduct her. To see that sable worn upon the day,

(GARCIA leads ALMERIA to the door, and Succeeding that, in which our deadliest foe,

returns. Hated Anselmo, was interr'd-By Heaven, This idle vow hangs on her woman's fears. It looks as thou didst mourn for him: just so I'll have a priest shall preach her from her faith, Thy senseless vow appear'd to bear its date, And make it sin not to renounce that Fow Not from that hour wherein thou wert preservd, Which I'd have broken. Now, what would But that wherein the curs’d Alphonso perish'd.

Alonzo ? Ha! What? thou dost not weep to think of that!

Enter ALONZO. Gon. Have patience, royal Sir; the princess weeps

Alon. Your beauteous captive, Zara, is arrivd, To have offended you. If fate decreed,

And with a train as if she still were wife One pointed hour should be Alphonso's loss, To Albucacim, and the Moor had conquerd And her deliverance, is she to blame ?

King. It is our will she should be so attended King. I tell thee she's to blame, not to have Bear hence these prisoners. Garcia, which is te, feasted

Of whose mute valour you relate such wonders ? When my first foe was laid in earth, such

(Prisoners led of enmity,

Gar. Osmyn, who led the Moorish hore; Such detestation bears my blood to his;

but he My daughter should have reveld at his death, Great Sir, at her request, attends on Zara. She should have made these palace walls to King. He is your prisoner; as you please dis

shake, And all this high and ample roof to ring

Gar. I would oblige him, but he shuns my With her rejoicings. What, to mourn and

kindness; weep!

And with a haughty mien and stern civility, Then, then to weep, and pray, and grieve ! by Dumbly declines all otters. If he speak, Heaven!

'Tis scarce above a word ; as he were born There's not a slave, a shackld slave of mine, Alone to do, and did disdain to talk; But should have smil'd that hour, through all his At least to talk where he must not command care,

King. Such sullenness, and in a man so brave; And shook his chains in transport and rude har- Must have some other cause than his captivity. mony.

Did Zara, then, request he might attend her Gon. What she has done, was in excess of Gar. My lord, she did. goodness;

King. That, join'd with his behaviour, Betray'd by too much piety, to seem

Begets a doubt. I'd have 'em watch'd; perhaps As if she had offended. -Sure, no more. Her chains hang heavier on him than his own. King. To seem is to commit, at this conjuncture.

Enter Alonzo, ZARA, and Osmyn bound, c. I wu’not have a seeming sorrow seen

ducted by Perez and a guard, attended by

pose him.

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