Alon. This to thy very soul.

Leon. Thou'rt not in earnest?
Alon. Serious as death.

Leon. Then heav'n have mercy on thee.
Till now I struggled not to think it true;

I sought conviction, and would not believe it.
And dost thou force me? This shall not be borne;
Thou shalt repent this insult.

Alon. Madam, stay.

[Going.

Your passion's wise; 'tis a disguise for guilt:
You and your thousand arts shall not escape me.
Leon. Årts?

Alon. Arts. Confess; for death is in my hand.
Leon. 'Tis in your words.

Alon. Confess, confess, confess!

Nor tear my veins with passion to compel thee.
Leon. I scorn to answer thee, presumptuous man!
Alon. Deny then, and incur a fouler shame.
Where did I find this picture?

Leon. Ha, don Carlos!

By my best hopes, more welcome than thy own.
Alon. I know it; but is vice so very rank,
That thou shouldst dare to dash it in my face?
Nature is sick of thee, abandon'd woman!

Leon. Repent.

Alon. Is that for me?

Leon. Fall, ask my pardon.

Alon. Astonishment!

Leon. Dar'st thou persist to think I am dishonest? Alon. I know thee so.

Leon. This blow then to thy heart

[She stabs herself; he endeavours to prevent her. Alon. Hoa, Zanga! Isabella! hoa! she bleeds! Descend, ye blessed angels, to assist her!

Leon. This is the only way that I would wound thee, Though most unjust. Now think me guilty still.

Enter ISABELLA.

Alon. Bear her to instant help. The world to save her. Leon. Unhappy man! well may'st thou gaze and tremble:

But fix thy terror and amazement right;

Not on my blood, but on thy own distraction.
What hast thou done? Whom censur'd-Leonora!
When thou hadst censur'd, thou wouldst save her life:
Oh, inconsistent! Should I live in shame,

Or stoop to any other means but this

To assert my virtue? No; she who disputes
Admits it possible she might be guilty.

While aught but truth could be my inducement to it,
While it might look like an excuse to thee,
I scorn'd to vindicate my innocence:

But now, I let thy rashness know, the wound
Which least I feel, is that my dagger made..

[Exit Isabella, leading out Leonora. Alon. Ha! was this woman guilty?-And if notHow my thoughts darken that way! Grant, kind heaven, That she prove guilty; or my being end.

Is that my hope, then?-Sure the sacred dust
Of her that bore me trembles in its urn.

Is it in man the sore distress to bear,
When hope itself is blacken'd to despair,
When all the bliss I pant for, is to gain
In hell, a refuge from severer pain?

Re-enter ZANGA.

[Exit

Zan. How stands the great account 'twixt me and ven

geance?

Though much is paid, yet still it owes me much,
And I will not abate a single groan-

Ha! that were well-but that were fatal too

Why, be it so-Revenge so truly great,

Would come too cheap, if bought with less than life. Re-enter ISABELLA.

Isa. Ah, Zanga, see me tremble! Has not yet Thy cruel heart its fill?-Poor Leonora

Zan. Welters in blood, and gasps for her last breath. What then? We all must die.

Isa. Alonzo raves,

And, in the tempest of his grief, has thrice

Attempted on his life. At length disarm'd,

He calls his friends that save him his worst foes,
And importunes the skies for swift perdition.
Thus in his storm of sorrow, after pause,
He started up, and call'd aloud for Zanga,
For Zanga rav'd; and see, he seeks you here,
To learn the truth which most he dreads to know.
Zan. Begone. Now, now, my soul, consummate all.'

Re-enter ALONZO.

Alon. Oh, Zanga!

Zan. Do not tremble so; but speak.

Alon. I dare not.

[Exit Isabella.

[Falls on him.

Zan. You will drown me with your tears.

Alon. Have I not cause?

Zan. As yet you have no cause.

Alon. Dost thou too rave?

Zan. Your anguish is to come:

You much have been abus'd.

Alon. Abus'd! by whom?

Zan. To know were little comfort.

Alon. Oh, 'twere much!

Zan. Indeed!

Alon. By heaven! Oh, give him to my fury!
Zan. Born for your use, I live but to oblige you.
Know, then, 'twas-I.

Alon. Am I awake?

Zan. For ever.

Thy wife is guiltless-that's one transport to ine;
And I, I let thee know it-that's another.

I urg'd don Carlos to resign his mistress,
I forg'd the letter, I dispos'd the picture;
I hated, I despis'd, and I destroy!

Alon. Oh!

[Swoons.

Zan. Why, this is well-why, this is blow for blow! Where are you? Crown me, shadow me with laurels, Ye spirits which delight in just revenge! Let Europe and her pallid sons go weep; Let Afric and her hundred thrones rejoice: Oh, my dear countrymen, look down and see How I bestride your prostrate conqueror!

I tread on haughty Spain, and all her kings.
But this is mercy, this is my indulgence;
Tis peace, 'tis refuge from my indignation.
I must awake him into horrors. Hoa!
Alonzo, hoa! the Moor is at the gate!
Awake, invincible, omnipotent!
Thou who dost all subdue!

Alon. Inhuman slave!

Zan. Fall'n Christian, thou mistak'st my character.
Look on me. Who am I? I know, thou say'st
The Moor, a slave, an abject, beaten slave:
(Eternal woes to him that made me so!)
But look again. Has six years cruel bondage
Extinguish'd majesty so far, that nought
Shines here to give an awe to one above thee?
When the great Moorish king, Abdallah, fell,
Fell by thy hand accurs'd, I fought fast by him,
His son, though, through his fondness, in disguise,
Less to expose me to th' ambitious foe.-

Ha! does it wake thee?-O'er my father's corse
I stood astride till I had clove thy crest;
And then was made the captive of a squadron,
And sunk into thy servant-But, oh! what,

What were my wages? Hear nor heaven, nor earth!
My wages were a blow! by heaven, a blow!
And from a mortal hand!

Alon. Oh, villain, villain!
Zan. All strife is vain.

Alon. Is thus my love return'd?

[Showing a Dagger.

Is this my recompense? Make friends of tigers!
Lay not your young, oh, mothers, on the breast,
For fear they turn to serpents as they lie,

And pay you for their nourishment with death!-
Carlos is dead, and Leonora dying!

Both innocent, both murder'd, both by me.

Zan. Must I despise thee too, as well as hate thee? Complain of grief, complain thou art a man.— Priam from fortune's lofty summit fell; Great Alexander 'midst his conquests mourn'd; Heroes and demi-gods have known their sorrows Cæsars have wept; and I have had my blow:

But, 'tis reveng'd, and now my work is done.
Yet, ere I fall, be it one part of vengeance
To force thee to confess that I am just.-
Thou seest a prince, whose father thou hast slain,
Whose native country thou hast laid in blood,
Whose sacred person (oh!) thou hast profan'd,
Whose reign extinguish'd-what was left to me,
So highly born? No kingdom, but revenge;
No treasure, but thy tortures and thy groans.
If men should ask who brought thee to thy end,
Tell them, the Moor, and they will not despise thee.
If cold white mortals censure this great deed,
Warn them, they judge not of superior beings,
Souls made of fire, and children of the sun,
With whom revenge is virtue. Fare thee well-
Now, fully satisfied, I should take leave:

But one thing grieves me, since thy death is near,
I leave thee my example how to die.

As he is going to stab himself, ALONZO rushes upon him
to prevent him. In the mean time, enter DoN ALVA-
REZ, attended. They disarm and seize ZANGA.
ALONZO puts the Dagger in his Bosom.

Alon. No, monster, thou shalt not escape by death. Oh, father!

Alv. Oh, Alonzo!-Isabella,

Touch'd with remorse to see her mistress' pangs,
Told all the dreadful tale.

Alon. What groan was that?

Zan. As I have been a vulture to thy heart,

So will I be a raven to thine ear,

As true as ever snuff'd the scent of blood,
As ever flapp'd its heavy wing against

The window of the sick, and croak'd despair.
Thy wife is dead.

[Alvarez goes to the side of the Stage, and returns. Alv. The dreadful news is true.

Alon. Prepare the rack; invent new torments for him. Zan. This too is well. The fix'd and noble mind Turns all occurrence to its own advantage;

And I'll make vengeance of calamity.