Betray'd by too much piety, to seem

As if she had offended.- -Sure, no more.

King. To seem is to commit, at this conjuncture.
I wo'not have a seeming sorrow seen

To-day.- -Retire, divest yourself with speed
Of that offensive black; on me be all
The violation of your vow; for you,

It shall be your excuse that I command it.

Gar. [Kneeling] Your pardon, sir, if I presume so far, As to remind you of your gracious promise.

King. Rise, Garcia-I forgot. Yet stay, Almeria. Alm. My boding heart!-What is your pleasure, sir? King. Draw near, and give your hand: and Garcia,

yours:

Receive this lord, as one whom I have found

Worthy to be your husband and my son.

Gar. Thus let me kneel to take-O not to take-
But to devote, and yield myself for ever

The slave and creature of my royal mistress.
Gon. O let me prostrate pay my worthless thanks
King. No more; my promise long since pass'd, thy ser-
vices,

And Garcia's well-try'd valour, all oblige me.
This day we triumph; but to-morrow's sun,
Garcia, shall shine to grace thy nuptials-

Alm. Oh!

Gar. She faints! help to support her.
Gon. She recovers.

[Faints.

King. A fit of bridal fear. How is't, Almeria? Alm. A sudden chillness seizes on my spirits. Your leave, sir, to retire.

King. Garcia, conduct her.

Garcia leads Almeria to the Door, and returns.

This idle vow hangs on her woman's fears.

I'll have a priest shall preach her from her faith,
And make it sin not to renounce that vow

Which I'd have broken. Now, what would Alonzo?

Enter ALONZO and Attendants.

Alon. Your beauteous captive, Zara, is arriv❜d,

And with a train as if she still were wife
To Albucacim, and the moor had conquer'd.

King. It is our will she should be so attended. Bear hence these prisoners. Garcia, which is he, Of whose mute valour you relate such wonders? [Prisoners led off. Gar. Osmyn, who led the Moorish horse; but he," Great sir, at her request, attends on Zara.

King. He is your prisoner; as you please dispose him.
Gar. I would oblige him, but he shuns my kindness;
And with a haughty mein, and stern civility,
Dumbly declines all offers: if he speak,
"Tis scarce above a word; as he were born
Alone to do, and did disdain to talk ;

At least to talk where he must not command.
King. Such sullenness, and in a man so brave,
Must have some other cause than his captivity.
Did Zara, then, request he might attend her?"
Gar. My lord, she did.

King. That, join'd with his behaviour,

Begets a doubt. I'd have 'em watch'd; perhaps
Her chains hang heavier on him than his own.

Enter ZARA and OSMYN, in Chains; conducted by
PEREZ and a Guard, attended by SELIM and several
Mutes.

King. What welcome and what honours, beauteous
Zara,

A king and conqueror can give, are yours.
A conqueror indeed, where you are won;
Who with such lustre strike admiring eyes,
That had our pomp been with your presence grac'd,
Th' expecting crowd had been deceiv'd; and seen
The monarch enter not triumphant, but
In pleasing triumph led; your beauty's slave.
Zara. If I on any terms could condescend
To like captivity, or think those honours,
Which conquerors in courtesy bestow,
Of equal value with unborrow'd rule,
And native right, to arbitrary sway,

I might be pleas'd, when I behold this train
With usual homage wait. But when I feel
These bonds, I look with loathing on myself;}
And scorn vile slavery, though doubly hid
Beneath mock-praises, and dissembled state.

King. Those bonds! 'Twas my command you should be free;

How durst you, Perez, disobey?
Per. Great sir,

Your order was she should not wait your triumph;
But at some distance follow, thus attended.

King. "Tis false! 'twas more! I bid she should be free; If not in words, I bid it by my eyes!

Her eyes did more than bid-Free her and hers
With speed;-yet stay-my_bands alone can make
Fit restitution here.--Thus I release you,

And by releasing you, enslave myself.

Zara. Such favours, so conferr'd, though when unsought,

Deserve acknowledgment from noble minds.
Such thanks, as one hating to be oblig'd-
Yet bating more ingratitude, can pay,

I offer.

་

King. Born to excel, and to coinmand!

As by transcendent beauty to attract

All eyes, so by pre-eminence of soul

To rule all hearts.

Garcia, what's he, who with contracted brow,

[Beholding Osmyn, as they unbind him.

And sullen port, glooms downwards with his eyes;
At once regardless of his chains, or liberty?

Gar. That, sir, is he of whom I spoke; that's Osmyn. King. He answers well the character you gave him. Whence comes it, valiant Osmyn, that a man

So great in arms, as thou art said to be,

So hardly can endure captivity,

The common chance of war?

Osm. Because captivity

Has robb'd me of a dear and just revenge.
King. I understand not that.

Osm. I would not have you.

Zara. That gallant Moor in battle lost a friend,
Whom more than life he lov'd; and the regret
Of not revenging on his foes that loss,
Has caus'd this melancholy and despair.

King. She does excuse him: 'tis as I suspected.

[To Gonsalez. Gon. That friend may be herself: seem not to heed His arrogant reply: she looks concern'd.

King. I'll have inquiry made; perhaps his friend
Yet lives, and is a prisoner. His name?
Zara, Heli.

King. Garcia, that search shall be your care:
It shall be mine to pay devotion here;
At this fair shrine to lay my laurels down,
And raise love's altar on the spoils of war.
Conquest and triumph now, are mine no more;
Nor will I victory in camps adore:

Fickle in fields, unsteadily she flies,

But rules with settled sway in Zara's eyes. [Exeunt.

B

SCENE I. The Aisle of a Temple.

Enter ALMERIA and LEONORA.

Alm. It was a fancy'd noise, for all is hush'd. Leon. It bore the accent of a human voice. Alm. It was thy fear, or else some transient wind Whistling through hollows of this vaulted aisle. We'll listen

Leon. Hark!

Alm. No, all is hush'd, and still as death-'tis dreadful!

How rev'rend is the face of this tall pile,

Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads,
To bear aloft its arch and pond'rous roof,
By its own weight made sted fast and immoveable,
Looking tranquillity. It strikes an awe
And terror on my aching sight: the tombs
And monumental caves of death look cold,
And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart.
Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice;
Nay, quickly speak to me, and let me hear
Thy voice-my own affrights me with its echoes.