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Zar. Yet thus, thus fall'n, 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 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. Osm. Why was I made the instrument to throw In bonds the frame of this exalted mind Zara. We may be free; the conqueror is mine; In chains unseen I hold him by the heart, And can unwind or 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. 4oo 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 groveling 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
Enter the KING, PERez, and Attendants.
King. Why does the fairest of her kind withdraw 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 I 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 pow'r, Presume to-day to plead audacious love,
And build bold hopes on my dejected fate
ACT III. SCENE I.
A Prison. Osm YN with a Paper.
But now, and I was clos'd within the tomb
Sure’tis the hand of Heav'n that leads me thus, And for some purpose points out these remembrances. In a dark corner of my cell I found This paper; what it is this light will shew, * If my Alphonso' Hal [Reading. * If my Alphonso live, restore him, Heav'n ; * 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 pray'r—yet more : • Let ev'ry 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—Heav'n should
Thus as the name of Heav'n from this is torn,
His voice, shutting the gates of pray’r against him.
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 4o 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 retir’d, “ (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, Heav'n 1 To a vile prison, and a captiv'd wretch;