And she forgives my late deportment to her. Zan. I told her, from your childhood you was wont,

On any great surprise, but chiefly then
When cause of sorrow bore it company,
To have your passion shake the seat of reason;
A momentary ill, which soon blew o'er:
Then did I tell her of Don Carlos' death
(Wisely suppressing by what means he fell,)
And laid the blame on that. At first she
doubted;

But such the honest artifice I us'd,
And such her ardent wish it should be true,
That she, at length, was fully satisfied.
But what design you, Sir, and how?

Alon. I'll tell thee.

Thus I've ordain'd it. In the jess'mine bower, The place which she dishonour'd with her guilt,

There will I meet her; the appointment's made;
And calmly spread (for I can do it now)
The blackness of her crime before her sight;
And then, with all the cool solemnity
Of public justice, give her to the grave. [Exit.
Zan. Why, get thee gone! horror and night
go with thee.

Sisters of Acheron, go hand in hand,
Go dance around the bower, and close them;
And tell them, that I sent you to salute them;
Profane the ground; and for th' ambrosial
rose,

And breath of jess'mine, let hemlock blacken,
And deadly nightshade poison all the air.
For the sweet nightingale, may ravens croak,
Toads pant, and adders rustle through the
leaves;

May serpents winding up the trees let fall
Their hissing necks upon them from above,
And mingle kisses such as I would give

them.

SCENE II.-The Bower.

[Exit.

gaze.

Oh, what a sight is here! how dreadful fair! Who would not think that being innocent? Where shall I strike? who strikes her, strikes himself.

My own life-blood will issue at her wound. But see, she smiles! I never shall smile more; It strongly tempts me to a parting kiss. [Going, he starts back. Ha! smile again. She dreams of him she loves. Curse on her charms! I'll stab her through them all.

[As he is going to strike, she wakes. Leon. My lord, your stay was long; and yonder lull

Of falling waters tempted me to rest,
Dispirited with noon's excessive heat.

Alon. Ye powers! with what an eye she mends the day!

While they were clos'd, I should have given the blow. [Aside.

Leon. What says my lord?

Alon. Why, this Alonzo says:

If love were endless, men were gods; 'tis that Does counterbalance travel, danger, pain'Tis Heaven's expedient to make mortals bear The light, and cheat them of the peaceful grave.

Leon. Alas, my lord! why talk you of the

grave? Your friend is dead in friendship you sustain A mighty loss: repair it with my love.

Alon. Thy love, thou piece of witchcraft! I would say,

Thou brightest angel! I could gaze for ever. But oh, those eyes! those murderers! Oh whence, Whence didst thou steal their burning orbs? from Heaven?

Thou didst; and 'tis religion to adore them. Leon. My best Alonzo, moderate your

thoughts.

Extremes still fright me, though of love itself. Alon. Extremes indeed! it hurry'd me

Zan. Death to my towering hope! Oh! fall from high!

My close, long-labour'd scheme at once is blasted,

That dagger, found, will cause her to inquire; Inquiry will discover all; my hopes

Of vengeance perish; I myself am lostCurse on the coward's heart; wither his hand, Which held the steel in vain!-what can be done?

Where can I fix?-that's something still'twill breed

Fell rage and bitterness betwixt their souls, Which may, perchance, grow up to greater evil:

[Aside.

If not, 'tis all I can-It shall be so-
Leon. Oh, Zanga, I am sinking in my fears!
Alonzo dropp'd this dagger as he left me,
And left me in a strange disorder too.
What can this mean? Angels preserve his life!
Zan. Yours, Madam, yours.

Leon. What, Zanga, dost thou say?

Zan. Carry you goodness then to such extremes,

So blinded to the faults of him you love,
That you perceive not he is jealous?

Leon. Heavens!

Oh, seen for ever, yet for ever new!
The conquer'd thou dost conquer o'er again,
Inflicting wound on wound.

Leon. Alas, my lord!

What need of this to me?

Alon. Ha! dost thou weep?
Leon. Have I no cause?
Alon. If love is thy concern,

Thou hast no cause: none ever lov'd like me. Oh, that this one embrace would last for ever!

Leon. Could this man ever mean to wrong my virtue?

Could this man e'er design upon my life?
Impossible! I throw away the thought. [Aside.
These tears declare how much I taste the joy
Of being folded in your arms and heart;
My universe does lie within that space.
This dagger bore false witness.

Alon. Ha, my dagger!

It rouses horrid images. Away,
Away with it, and let us talk of love.
Leon. Of death!

Alon. As thou lov'st happiness-
Leon. Of murder!

Weak and assur'd at once! thus 'tis for ever.
Who told thee that thy virtue was suspected?
Who told thee I design'd upon thy life?
You found the dagger; but that could not
speak:

Nor did I tell thee; who did tell thee then?
Guilt, conscious guilt!

Leon. This to my face! Oh, Heaven!
Alon. This to thy very soul.

Leon. Thou'rt not in earnest ?

Alon. Serious as death.

Leon. Then Heaven 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.

Leon. This blow then to thy heart— [She stabs herself; he endeavours to prevent her. Alon. Ho, Zanga! Isabella! ho! she bleeds! Descend, ye blessed angels, to assist her! Leon. This is the only way I would wonnd thee, [still. Though most unjust. Now think me guilty 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-Leo-
nora !
[her life:
When thou hadst censur'd, thou wouldst save
Oh, inconsistent! should I live in shame,
Or stoop to any other means but this,
T assert my virtue? no: she who disputes

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. Fallen 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 of 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 dis-
guise,

Less to expose me to th' ambitious foe.-
Ha! does it wake thee?-O'er my father's

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
I leave thee my example how to die. [near,

mind

'Turns all occurrence to its own advantage;
And I'll make vengeance of calamity.
Were I not thus reduc'd, thou wouldst not
know,

That, thus reduc'd, I dare defy thee still.
Torture thou may'st, but thou shalt ne'er des-
pise me.
[ven,
The blood will follow where the knife is dri-
The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear,
And sighs and cries by nature grow on pain.
But these are foreign to the soul: not mine
The groans that issue, or the tears that fall;
They disobey me; on the rack I scorn thee,
As when my falchion clove thy helm in battle.

Alv. Peace, villain! Zan. While I live, old man, I'll speak : And, well I know, thou dar'st not kill me yet; For that would rob thy blood-hounds of their

prey.

Alon. Who call'd Alonzo?
Alv. No one call'd, my son.

Alon. Again!-"Tis Carlos' voice, and I obey. Oh, how I laugh at all that this can do! [Shows the dagger. The wounds that pain'd, the wounds that murder'd me,

Were given before; am already dead;
This only marks my body for the grave.
[Stabs himself.
Afric, thou art reveng'd. Oh, Leonora ! [Dies.
Zan. Good ruffians, give me leave; my blood
is yours,
The wheel's prepar'd, and you shall have it all.
Let me but look one moment on the dead.

And pay yourselves with gazing on my pangs. [He goes to ALONZO's body. Is this Alonzo? Where's the haughty mien ? Is that the hand which smote me? Heavens, how pale!

And art thou dead! So is my enmity.
I war not with the dust. The great, the proud,
The conqueror of Afric, was my foe.
A lion preys not upon carcasses.
This was the only method to subdue me.
Terror and doubt fall on me all thy good
Now blazes, all thy guilt is in the grave.
Never had man such funeral applause:
If I lament thee, sure thy worth was great.
Oh, vengeance, I have follow'd thee too far,
And to receive me, hell blows all her fires.

[Exeunt.