That whether death or victory ensued For which I mourn, and will for ever mourn; Nor will I change these black and dismal robes, Or ever dry these swoln and watery eyes; Leon. Look down, good Heaven, with pity on her sorrows, And grant that time may bring her some relief. Alm. Oh, no! time gives increase to my afflictions. cares, The circling hours, that gather all the woes O cease, for Heaven's sake, assuage a little When joy appears in every other face. Alm. And joy he brings to every other heart, But double, double weight of wo to mine: For with him Garcia comes-Garcia, to whom I must be sacrific'd, and all the vows I gave my dear Alphonso basely broken. No, it shall never be; for I will die First, die ten thousand deaths-Look down, look down, Alphonso, hear the sacred vow I make; [Kneels. One moment, cease to gaze on perfect bliss, And bend thy glorious eyes to earth and me. And thou, Anselmo, if yet thou art arriv❜d, Through all impediments of purging fire, To that bright Heaven, where my Alphonso reigns, Behold thou also, and attend my vow. down Gon. Be every day of your long life like this. The sun, bright conquest, and your brighter eyes, Have all conspir'd to blaze promiscuous light, And bless this day with most unequall'd Your royal father, my victorious lord, [lustre. Loaden with spoils, and ever-living laurel, Is entering now, in martial pomp, the palace. Five hundred mules precede his solemn march, Which groan beneath the weight of Moorish wealth. Chariots of war, adorn'd with glittering gems, Succeed; and next, a hundred neighing steeds, White as the fleecy rain on Alpine hills, bit, As they disdain'd the victory they grace. Prisoners of war, in shining fetters, follow: And captains of the noblest blood of Afric Sweat by his chariot wheel, and lick and grind, [raise. With gnashing teeth, the dust his triumphs The swarming populace spread every wall, And cling, as if with claws they did enforce Their hold; through clifted stones stretching and staring, As if they were all eyes, and every limb Would feed its faculty with admiration: While you alone retire, and shun this sight; This sight, which is indeed not seen, (though twice The multitude should gaze) in absence of your eyes. Alm. My lord, my eyes ungratefully behold Or pompous phrase, the pageantry of souls. But 'tis a task unfit for my weak age charms. Alm. I doubt not of the worth of Garcia's deeds, Which had been brave though I had ne'er been born. [Flourish. Leon. Madam, the king. Alm. My women. I would meet him. [Attendants to ALMERIA enter in mourning. Symphony of warlike Music. Enter the KING, attended by GARCIA and several Officers. Files of Prisoners in chains, and Guards, who are ranged in order round the Stage. ALMERIA meets the KING, and kneels: afterwards What, tears! my good old friend Gon. But tears of joy. Believe me, Sir, to see you thus, has fill'd Mine eyes with more delight than they can hold. King. By Heaven, thou lov'st me, and I'm pleas'd thou dost ; Take it for thanks, old man, that I rejoice King. Your zeal to Heaven is great, so is your debt: A day Yet something too is due to me, who gave To see that sable worn upon the day, But that wherein the curs'd Alphonso perish'd. Ha! What? thou dost not weep to think of that! Gon. Have patience, royal Sir; the princess weeps To have offended you. If fate decreed, King. I tell thee she's to blame, not to have feasted When my first foe was laid in earth, such enmity, Such detestation bears my blood to his; shake, And all this high and ample roof to ring With her rejoicings. What, to mourn and weep! Then, then to weep, and pray, and grieve! by Heaven!' There's not a slave, a shackl'd slave of mine, But should have smil'd that hour, through all his care, And shook his chains in transport and rude harmony. Gon. What she has done, was in excess of goodness; Betray'd by too much piety, to seem I wo'not have a seeming sorrow seen Gar. [Kneeling.] Your pardon, Sir, if I presume so far, As to remind you of your gracious promise. King. Rise, Garcia.—I forgot. Yet stay, Almeria. Alm. My boding heart!-What is your pleasure, Sir? King. Draw near, and give your hand, and, Garcia, yours: Receive this lord, as one whom I have found Worthy to be your husband, and my son. Gar. Thus let me kneel to take-O, not to take But to devote, and yield myself for ever King. No more; my promise long since pass'd, thy services, And Garcia's well-tried valour, all oblige me. [Faints. Gar. She faints! help to support her. Gon. She recovers. King. A fit of bridal fear. How is't AI The monarch enter not triumphant, but I might be pleased, when I behold this train How durst you, Perez, disobey? Perez. Great Sir, Your order was, she should not wait your triumph, But at some distance follow, thus attended. King. 'Tis false; 'twas more; I bid she should be free; If not in words, I bid it by my eyes. [hers Fit restitution here-Thus I release you, Zar. Such favours, so conferr'd, though when unsought, Deserve acknowledgement from noble minds. King. Born to excel, and to command! eyes; At once regardless of his chains, or liberty? Gar. That, Sir, is he of whom I spoke; that's Osmyn. King. He answers well the character you Whence comes it, valiant Osmyn, that a man The common chance of war? Osm. Because captivity Has robb'd me of a dear and just revenge. Osm. I would not have you. Zar. That gallant Moor in battle lost a friend, Whom more than life he lov'd; and the regret Of not revenging on his foes that loss, Has caus'd this melancholy and despair. King. She does excuse him; 'tis as I suspected. [To GONS. Gon. That friend might be herself; seem not to heed His arrogant reply: she looks concern'd. King. I'll have inquiry made; perhaps his friend Yet lives, and is a prisoner. His name? King. Garcia, that search shall be your care: It shall be mine to pay devotion here; At this fair shrine to lay my laurels down, And raise love's altar on the spoils of war. Conquest and triumphs, now, are mine no more; Nor will I victory in camps adore : [stands, Now late I find that war is but her sport; ACT II. [Exit. SCENE I.-Representing the aisle of a Gar. This way we're told, Osmyn was seen to walk; Choosing this lonely mansion of the dead, If to arise in very deed from death, Per. Yonder, my lord, behold the noble Heli. Where? Where? Gur. I saw him not, nor any like him- view, And striding with distemper'd haste; his eyes Seem'd flame, and flash'd upon me with a glance; Then forward shot their fires, which he pursu'd As to some object frightful, yet not fear'd. Gar. Let's haste to follow him, and know the cause. Heli. My lord, let me intreat you to forbear: Leave me alone, to find and cure the cause. I know his melancholy, and such starts Are usual to his temper. It might raise him To act some violence upon himself, So to be caught in an unguarded hour, And when his soul gives all her passion way, Secure and loose in friendly solitude. I know his noble heart would burst with shame, To be surpriz'd by strangers in its frailty. friend. How reverend is the face of this tall pile, Looking tranquillity. It strikes an awe echoes. Enter ALMERIA and LEONORA. Leon. Behold the sacred vault, within whose womb The poor remains of good Anselmo rest, And staring on us with unfolded leaves. Alm. Sure 'tis the friendly yawn of death for me; And that dumb mouth, significant in show, Invites me to the bed, where I alone Shall rest; shows me the grave, where nature, weary [cares, And long oppress'd with woes and bending May lay the burden down, and sink in slum[fold Of peace eternal. Death, grim death, will Me in his leaden arms, and press me close bers To his cold, clayey breast: my father then Of that refulgent world, where I shall swim Oh, Alphonso! OSMYN ascending from the tomb. Osm. Who calls that wretched thing that was Alphonso? Alm. Angels, and all the host of Heaven, support me! Osm. Whence is that voice, whose shrillness, from the grave, And growing to his father's shroud, roots up Alphonso! Alm. Mercy! Providence! Oh, speak, Speak to it quickly, quickly; speak to me, Comfort me, help me, hold me, hide me, hide me, Leonora, in thy bosom, from the light, Osm. Amazement and illusion! Rivet and nail me where I stand, ye powers, [Coming forward. That, motionless, I may be still deceiv'd. got me ? Hast thou thy eyes, yet canst not see Alphonso? Alm. It is, it is Alphonso; 'tis his face, His voice, I know him now, I know him all. Oh, take me to thy arms, and bear me hence, Back to the bottom of the boundless deep, To seas beneath, where thou so long hast dwelt. [charm'd Ob, how hast thou return'd? How hast thou The wildness of the waves and rocks to this? That thus relenting they have given thee back To earth, to light and life, to love and me. Osm. Oh, I'll not ask, nor answer, how or why We both have backward trod the paths of fate, Alm. Stay a while Let me look on thee yet a little more. Osm. What wouldst thou? thou dost put me from thee. Alm. Yes. It is too much; too much to bear and live! Alm. Where hast thou been? and how art thou alive? How is all this? All-powerful Heaven, what are we? Oh, my strain❜d heart-let me again behold thee, For I weep to see thee-Art thou not paler? Much, much; how thou art chang'd! Osm. Not in my love. Alm. No, no, thy griefs, I know, have done this to thee. Thou hast wept much, Alphonso; and, I fear, Too much, too tenderly lamented me. Osm. Wrong not my love, to say too tenderly. No more, my life; talk not of tears or grief; Affliction is no more, now thou art found. Why dost thou weep, and hold thee from my arms, [grow My arms which ache to hold thee fast, and To thee with twining? Come, come to my heart. Alm. I will, for I should never look enough. They would have married me; but I had Alm. 'Tis more than recompence to see thy face. If Heaven is greater joy, it is no happiness, For 'tis not to be borne-What shall I say? I have a thousand things to know and ask, And speak-That thou art here beyond all hope, [me, All thought; and all at once thou art before And with such suddenness hast hit my sight, Is such surprise, such mystery, such ecstacy, It hurries all my soul, and stuns my sense. Sure from thy father's tomb thou didst arise ? Osm. I did; and thou, my love, didst call me; thou. Alm. True; but how cam'st thou there? Wert thou alone? Osm. I was, and lying on my father's lead, When broken echoes of a distant voice Disturb'd the sacred silence of the vault. In murmurs round my head. I rose and listen'd, And thought I heard thy spirit call Alphonso; I thought I saw thee too; but, oh, I thought Heaven, That persevering still, with open hand, glimpse Of two in shining habits cross the aisle ; soon. Osm. I wish at least our parting were a dream; Or we could sleep 'till we again were met. Heli. Zara with Selim, Sir, I saw and know 'em': [wings. You must be quick, for love will lend her Alm. What love? Who is she? Why are you alarm'd? Osm. She's the reverse of thee; she's my unhappiness. [peace; Harbour no thought that may disturb thy But gently take thyself away, lest she Should come, and see the straining of my eyes To follow thee. |