And rushes on thee-I intended vengeance

More desperate and sweet ;-but thou hast forced me To shed thy life too soon.

[They fight.

Enter FLORINDA, L. U. E., and rushes between them.

Flor. Forbear! forbear! or in Florinda's blood Let fury quench her fires!

Pes. Fool that I was!

The sudden phrensy hurried me away-
I might have slain him, and a single blow
Had burst the complicated toils I weave.

[Aloud.] A woman's bosom be thy shield-he 'scapes
Pescara's arm to goad Pescara's vengeance.

[Exit, L. Hem. He goes, and bears life with him; fall to ashes, Thou recreant hand, that did not pierce his heart!

[Florinda stops Hemeya from going, L. Thou, too, Florinda, hast conspired against me— See what I am for thy sake!

Flor. Oh, Hemeya!

Speak as thou wilt, thou canst not take away
The tender pleasure of beholding thee.-
E'en now 'twas rumoured that the Inquisition
Had seized and borne thee to the dread tribunal-
The sound was terrible; fear winged my steps;
I flew to find thee, and I find thee safe.-
E'en as I passed I saw that aged Moor
Dragged pitiless along; and oh, Hemeya!
I own a throb of joy, of fearful joy,
Burst here as I beheld it.

Hem. Joy, Florinda !

Flor. On thee they would have cast the clodden earth-
On thee they would have thrown opprobrium's stain-
On thee they would have trampled ;-ev'ry blow
That fell on Malec's face would have been thine.
And, oh! to see what thou hast 'scaped-to feel,
To clasp the certainty within my heart-

Hem. The earth was cast upon his reverend face?
Flor. It had been cast in thine.

Hem. The populace?

Flor. They would have scoffed at thee, too.

Hem. Now, perhaps,

From their infernal caverns they bring forth

The glitt'ring engines of ingenious agony;

The fires

Flor. The fires were thine ;-his groans and tortures, Their engines and their racks,-all, all were thine; And I must have beheld it!

Hem. Coward! slave!

Thou traitor to thy people, with a lie

Stuck quiv'ring in thy heart!-here, here I stand,
Fest'ring in Christian garments, with my shame,
Like an envenomed robe, to scorch my limbs.
I dare lift up my brow, and mock the man!
Here is the place for me; here, on the earth,
Let ev'ry wretch tread on me as he passes!

[Falls.

Flor. This is too much for any mortal creature! But, since I am doomed to more than human wo, Give me, just heaven, much more than human patience! Hemeya! dear as thou art cruel to me!

I can bear all my sorrow; but to see thee

Phrensied in agony-think every pang

That breaks within thy heart must burst in mine.

Hem. Hark thee, Florinda! I am not so vile—

I'm not the very villain that you think me.

Now, by my natal star in yonder heav'n,

He shall not perish!

Flor. Speak-what wouldst thou do?

Hem. Where are you, Moors?—it is Hemeya calls! Where are you? I would kindle in your souls

The brave and fierce despair that rages here,―
Or, if you dread to follow me, alone

I'll save or die with him!

Flor. You shall not rush on death!

Hem. The voice of heav'n cries out within my soul; A power invincible swells in my arm;

Nothing can stay me now!-I'll save my friend;
And, when 'tis done, I've done with living, too.
Flor. Why is it that I live, then? oh, Hemeya!
Why did you save me from the kinder flames,
To make me curse the blesséd light of heaven,
And call on death ?-but I shall call in vain,
When they have dragged me shrieking to the altar,
And fell Pescara-

Hem. Ha, the cursed name

That rakes up hell within me !-'tis Pescara-
Flor. Yes, 'tis Pescara that will tear me, too,
To his accursed embrace.

Hem. Show not that image
To my distracted thought.

Flor. When thou art gone,

What will become of me! who then will hear
My phrensied shrieks for death, for help, for mercy?
Who then will hear me? who will help me then?
Thou wilt not! no, thou wilt abandon me.-

"Oh! they will ring the marriage bell for me,

'And, mid their frantic merriment, I'll hear "The toll of death for thee."

Hem. What shall I do?

Malec, can I desert thee ?-and Florinda!-
Flor. Is he to be my husband? am I to be
The victim of his execrable love?

Hem. Thy husband! fall before the face of heaven, And bid it witness, that, whate'er befalls me

Flor. Behold me, then! before the face of heavenThat heaven that does not pity me, I swear,

If I must choose between Pescara's love

And death's eternal bed, I will prefer

Death for my horrid bridegroom.

Now, then, tell me,

Am I to die? for Heaven, if thou forsake me,

Death only can preserve me.

Hem. No! this arm,

When I have done the deed, shall bear thee hence,

Far from Grenada's towers.

Enter HALY, L.

Hal. My lord! my lord!

Hem. Speak!—

Hal. Malec

Hem. Malec!

Hal. Is condemned!

Hem. Condemned?

Hal. Already has the toll of death pealed out

Its dreadful notice; ere the sun descend,

In all the pomp of martyrdom he dies.

Hem. Where are the Moors? where are my country

men ?

Hal. Before the Inquisition's gate they stand, And say he should not perish, if their prince

Hem. Tell them he shall not perish!-from the pile Of blazing fires I'll tear him.

Flor. Oh, Hemeya!

[Draws his sword.

I see the fate that wings thee to perdition.
Hem. Wilt thou not follow me?

Flor. Throughout the world!

I'll fasten to thy fate, I'll perish with thee.
1 stand upon the brink of destiny,

And see the deep descent that gapes beneath :—
Oh! since I cannot save thee from the gulf,
From the steep verge I'll leap with thee along-
Cling to thy heart, and grasp thee with my ruin!

[Throws herself into his arms-he bears her off, L.

END OF ACT III.

ACT I V.

SCENE I.-A Street-Bell tolls, R.-Procession of the In.

quisition.

MALEC, GOMEZ, HEMEYA, HAMET, and HALY, in disguise, U. E.

Gom. Here pause, and give his feeble frame repose, Else, ere we gain the place of execution,

His aged limbs will sink upon the earth.

Mal. [Very weak.] Monks, have I reached your faggots?

Gom. Scarce ten paces

Divide thee from the bourne of earthly pain.

If thou hast power, look forth, and hence behold

The Villarambla, where ascends the pile,

Upon whose burning top thou'rt doomed to die.
Mal. [Looking off] Let me behold!
Hem. Oh, Haly, look upon him!

Hal. Hold, my lord,

Or you create suspicion-all bespeaks
The prosp'rous issue of our enterprise.
I have disposed the bravest of the Moors

Around the pile of death.

Hem. Be it thy care

To lead him to the eastern gate; meanwhile
I fly to bear Florinda from the spot

Of safety, where I left her; then we mount

Our Arab steeds, and speed us to the mountains.
Gom. Fear shakes your frame-you seem to gaze ap-
palled

On yonder glittering scene, where all Grenada
Has poured her thousands to behold thee die.
Mal. It is a spectacle that fills my heart
With terror for mankind,-not for myself.
Unhappy country! land of monks and martyrs!
Women, and men, and children; young and old;
The beggar and the noble,-all are there
To view the spectacle of human pain,
In laughing, horrid merriment ! The mother
Comes with her little children, to behold—

Nay, some, perhaps, bear life within their bosoms,
Yet gaze without a shudder! there, young maids,
Who would have shrieked to see a spider crawl,
Are met to see a fellow creature burn!
And this you call religion! but your faith,
Spaniards! your faith doth tell you otherwise;
For He, who taught you, taught you mercy, too.
But, one day, Heaven will vindicate itself.
The blood of millions, that has drenched
your earth,
In a red cloud doth gather round his throne,
Charged with the lightnings of eternal wrath,
To burst, at last, upon your guilty heads.
Peru shall be revenged, and Mexico

Shall be revenged, and I shall be revenged.

Gom. Perverse and hardened sinner, I intended, When here we paused, that thou shouldst give the Moors

Example of repentance.

Mal. Prithee, monk,

Do not disturb me now; I am not worth it.

Grant me one poor request—

Gom. What wouldst thou ask?

Mal. Tell me, where is my friend?

Gom. I cannot tell thee.

Mal. I thought he would not have abandoned me

In my last hour. When I am dead, perhaps