Zar. Oh Heav'n! my fears interpret This thy silence; somewhat of high concern, And now just ripe for birth, my rage has ruin'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 thro' 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, 200 Zar. Thou canst not owe me more, nor have I more To give, than I've 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 Of godlike mould, intrepid and commanding, [Exit. And challenges, in spite of me, my best The sea. I fear, when she shall know the truth, 220 Enter ALMERIA. My life, my health, my liberty, my all! How speak to thee the words of joy and transport? And stain thy bosom with the rust of these meet To part no more -Now we will part no more; For these thy chains, or death, shall join us ever. Osm. Hard means to ratify that word !-Oh, cruelty! "That ever I should think beholding thee "A torture !-Yet such is the bleeding anguish 240 2 "Of my heart, to see thy sufferings-Oh, Heav'n! "That I could almost turn my eyes away, "Or wish thee from my sight. "Alm. Oh, say not so! "Tho' 'tis because thou lov'st me. Do not say, 241 "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, "Drink 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 "In vain with the remorseless chains, which gnaw "And eat into thy flesh, fest'ring thy limbs "With rankling rust." Osm. Oh! O Alm. Give me that sigh. 260 Why dost thou heave, and stifle in thy griefs? Osm. For this world's rule, I would not wound thy breast With such a dagger as then stuck my heart. Alm. Why? why? To know it, cannot wound me more Than knowing thou hast felt it. Tell it me, -Thou giv'st me pain with too much tenderness. Osm. And thy excessive love distracts my sense. Oh, wouldst thou be less killing, soft, or kind, Grief could not double thus his darts against me. Alm. Thou dost me wrong, and grief too robs my heart, If there he shoot not every other shaft ; Thy second self should feel each other wound, Osm. Oh, thou hast search'd too deep: There, there I bleed; there pull the cruel cords, That strain my cracking nerves; engines and wheels, That piece-meal grind, are beds of down and balm To that soul-racking thought. Alm. Then I am curs'd Indeed, if that be so! if I'm thy torment, 281 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, 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 300 A wish or thought from me to have thee other. Yet unaccomplish'd: "his mysterious rites "Yet lighted up his last most grateful sacrifice; "But dash'd with rain from eyes, and swail'd with "sighs, "Burns dim, and glimmers with expiring light." Is this dark cell a temple for that god? Or this vile earth an altar for such offerings? As to be wretched with thee. Alm. No; not that Th' extremest malice of our fate can hinder : 320 |