Retire, my love, I'll think how we may meet
To part no more; my friend will tell thee all ;
How I escap'd, how I am here, and thus ;
How I'm not call'd Alphonso now, but
Osmyn;

And he Heli. All, all, he will unfold,
Ere next we meet-

Alm. Sure we shall meet again

Osm. We shall; we part not but to meet again.

Gladness and warmth of ever kindling love Dwell with thee, and revive thy heart in absence.

[Exeunt ALMERIA, LEONORA, and HELI. Yet I behold her-yet-and now no more. Turn your lights inward, eyes, and view my thoughts,

So shall you still behold her-'twill not be.
Oh, impotence of sight! Mechanic sense!
Which to exterior objects ow'st thy faculty,
Not seeing of election, but necessity.
Thus do our eyes, as do all common mirrors,
Successively reflect succeeding images:
Not what they would, but must; a star, or
toad;

Just as the hand of chance administers.
Not so the mind, whose undetermin'd view
Revolves, and to the present adds the past;
Essaying farther to futurity;

But that in vain. I have Ålmeria here
At once, as I before have seen her often-
Enter ZARA and SELIM.

Zar. See where he stands, folded and fix'd to earth,

Stiffening in thought, a statue among statues.
Why, cruel Osmyn, dost thou fly me thus?
Is it well done? Is this then the return
For fame, for honour, and for empire lost ?
But what is loss of honour, fame, and em-
pire?

Is this the recompence reserv'd for love?
Why dost thou leave my eyes, and fly my

|

Zar. Inhuman! Why, why dost thou rack

me thus?

I have not wherewithal to give again. Zar. Thou hast a heart, though 'tis a savage one;

Give it me as it is; I ask no more

For all I've done, and all I have endur'd:
For saving thee, when I beheld thee, first,
Driven by the tide upon my country's coast,
Pale and expiring, drench'd in briny waves,
Thou and thy friend, till my compassion found
thee;

Compassion ! scarce will't own that nane, so soon,

So quickly was it love; for thou wert godlike
Even then. Kneeling on earth, I loos'd my
hair,
(chaf'd
And with it dried thy watery cheeks, then
Thy temples, till reviving blood arose,
And, like the morn, vermilion'd o'er thy face.
Oh, Heaven! how did my heart rejoice and
ache,

When I beheld the day-break of thy eyes,
And felt the balm of thy respiring lips!

Osm. Oh, call not to my mind what you have done,

It sets a debt of that account before me, Which shows me poor and bankrupt even ia hopes.

Zar. The faithful Selim, and my women,

know

Make no reply! Is this thy gratitude?
Look on me now, from empire fallen to slavery;
Think on my sufferings first, then look on me;
Think on the cause of all, then view thyselt:
Reflect on Osmyn, and then look on Zara,
The fallen, the lost, and now the captive Zara,
And now abandon'd-Say, what then is
Osmyn?

Osm. A fatal wretch-A huge, stupendous ruin,

That tumbling on its prop, crush'd all beneath, And bore contiguous palaces to earth.

Zar. Yet thus, thus fallen, thus levell'd with

the vilest,

If I have gain'd thy love, 'tis glorious ruin;
Ruin! 'tis still to reign and to be more
A queen; for what are riches, empire, power,

* The lines printed in Italics are not in the original, but are now given to the reader as delivered in the representetion at Drury-lane theatre.

Heli. You may. Anon, at midnight, when the king

Is gone to rest, and Garcia is retired, (Who takes the privilege to visit late, [come. Presuming on a bridegroom's right) she'll Osm. She'll come; 'tis what I wish, yet what I fear. [Heaven, She'll come; but whither, and to whom? Oh, To a vile prison, and a captiv'd wretch; To one, whom had she never known, she had Been happy. Why, why was that heavenly

creature

Abandon'd o'er to love what Heaven forsakes?
Why does she follow, with unwearied steps,
One, who has tired misfortune with pursuing?
One driv'n about the world, like blasted leaves,
And chaff, the sport of adverse winds; till late,
At length imprison'd in some cleft of rock,
On earth it rests, and rots to silent dust.
Heli. Have hopes, and hear the voice of
better fate.

I've learn'd there are disorders ripe for mutiny Among the troops, who thought to share the plunder,

Which Manuel to his own use and avarice Converts. This news has reach'd Valentia's frontiers,

Where many of your subjects, long oppress'd
With tyranny, and grievous impositions,
Are risen in arms, and call for chiefs to head
And lead them to regain their rights and lib-
erty.

Osm. By Heavens thouʼast roused me from my lethargy.

The spirit which was deaf to my own wrongs, And the loud cries of my dead father's blood, Deaf to revenge-nay, which refus'd to hear The piercing sighs and murmurs of my love Yet unenjoy'd; what not Almeria could Revive or raise, my people's voice has waken'd.

Heli. Our posture of affairs, and scanty time, My lord, require you should compose yourself. Osm. Oh, my Antonio, I am all on fire; My soul is up in arms, ready to charge And bear amidst the foe with conquering troops. I hear 'em call to lead 'em on to liberty, To victory, their shouts and clamours rend My ears, and reach the Heavens. Where is the king?

Where is Alphonso? Ha! where? where indeed!

Oh, I could tear and burst the strings of life, To break these chains. Off, off, ye stains of

royalty;

Off, slavery. Oh, curse! that I alone
Can beat and flutter in my cage, when I
Would soar and stoop at victory beneath.

Heli. Abate this ardour, Sir, or we are lost.
Our posture of affairs and scanty time,
My lord, require you should compose yourself,
And think on what we may reduce to prac-
Zara, the cause of your restraint, may be [tice.
The means of liberty restor'd. That gain'd,
Occasion will not fail to point out ways
For your escape. Mean time, I've thought
already

With speed and safety to convey myself, Where not far off some malcontents hold council

Nightly, who hate this tyrant; some, who love Anselmo's memory, and will, for certain, When they shall know you live, assist your

cause.

Osm. My friend and counsellor, as thou think'st fit,

So do. I will, with patience, wait my fortune.

Heli. When Zara comes, abate of your aversion.

Osm. I hate ber not, nor can dissemble love: But as I may I'll do. I have a paper Which I would show thee, friend, but that the sight Would hold thee here, and clog thy expedition. Within I found it; by my father's hand 'Twas writ; a prayer for me, wherein appears Paternal love prevailing o'er his sorrows; Such sanctity, such tenderness, so mix'd With grief, as would draw tears from inhumanity.

Heli. The care of providence sure left it there,

To arm your mind with hope. Such piety Was never heard in vain. Heaven has in store For you those blessings it withheld from him. In that assurance live; which time, I hope, And our next meeting will confirm.

Osm. Farewell,

My friend; the good thou dost deserve, attend thee. [Erit HELL. I've been to blame, and question'd with inpiety

The care of Heaven. Not so my father bore More anxious grief. This should have better taught me ;

This lesson, in some hour of inspiration By him set down, when his pure thoughts were borne,

Like fumes of sacred incense o'er the clouds, And wafted thence on angels' wings, through ways

Of light, to the bright Source of all. For there
He in the book of prescience saw this day;
And waking to the world and mortal sense,
Left this example of his resignation,
This his last legacy to me; which, here,
I'll treasure as more worth than diadems,
Or all extended rule of regal power.

now,

As she whose savage breast has been the cause Of these thy wrongs; as she whose barbarous rage

Has loaded thee with chains and galling irons. Well dost thou scorn me, and upbraid my falseness,

Could one who lov'd thus torture whom she lov'd?

No, no, it must be hatred, dire revenge,
And detestation, that could use thee thus.
So dost thou think; then do but tell me so;
Tell me, and thou shalt see how I'll revenge
Thee on this false one, how I'll stab and tear
This heart of flint, 'till it shall bleed ; and thou

Shalt weep for mine, forgetting thy own miseries.

Osm. You wrong me, beauteous Zara, to believe

I bear my fortunes with so low a mind,
As still to meditate revenge on all [causes,
Whom chance, or fate, working by secret
Has made, perforce, subservient to that end
The heavenly powers allot me ; no, not you,
But destiny and inauspicious stars
Have cast me down to this low being. Or [it.
Granting you had, from you I have deserved
Zar. Canst thou forgive me then? wilt thou
believe

So kindly of my fault, to call it madness?
Oh, give that madness yet a milder name,
And call it passion! then be still more kind,
And call that passion love.

Osm. Give it a name,

Or being, as you please, such I will think it. Zar. Oh, thou dost wound me more with this thy goodness, [proaches? Than e'er thou couldst with bitterest reThy anger could not pierce thus to my heart. Osm. Yet I could wish

Zar. Haste me to know it; what?

Enter ALMERIA.

My life, my health, my liberty, my all!
How shall I welcome thee to this sad place?
How speak to thee the words of joy and trans-
port?

How run into thy arms, withheld by fetters; Or take thee into mine, while I'm thus manacled

And pinion'd like a thief or murderer ?
Shall I not hurt and bruise thy tender body,
And stain thy bosom with the rust of these
Rude irons? Must I meet thee thus, Almeria?
Alm. Thus, thus; we parted, thus to meet
again.

Thou told'st me thou wouldst think how we
might meet
To part no more- -Now we will part no more;
For these thy chains, or death, shall join us

ever.

thing.

Zur. What thing?

Osm. This slave.

Zar. Oh Heaven! my fears interpret This thy silence; somewhat of high concern, Long fashioning within thy labouring mind, And now just ripe for birth, my rage has ruin'd.

Have I done this? Tell me, am I so curs'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 through 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, Can I repay, as you require, such benefits. Zar. Thou canst not owe me more, nor have

I more

To give, than I have 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.

[Exit.

Osm. This woman has a soul Of godlike mould, intrepid and commanding, And challenges, in spite of me, my best Esteem; to this, she's fair, few more can boast Of personal charms, or with less vanity Might hope to captivate the hearts of kings; But she has passions which outstrip the wind, And tear her virtues up, as tempests root The sea. I fear, when she shall know the truth, Some swift and dire event of her blind rage Will make all fatal. But behold, she comes For whom I fear, to shield me from my fears, The cause and comfort of my boding heart.

Alm. Oh, say not so!

[say,

Though 'tis because thou lov'st me. Do not 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
[gnaw
In vain with the remorseless chains, which
And eat into thy flesh, festering thy limbs
With rankling rust.

Osm. Oh! Oh

Alm. Give me that sigh.

Why dost thou heave, and stifle in thy griefs? Thy heart will burst, thy eyes look red, and [thought. Give thy soul way, and tell me thy dark Osm. For this world's rule, I would not

start;

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,
And wo should be in equal portions dealt.
I am thy wife-

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,
[balm
That piece-meal grind, are beds of down and
To that soul-racking thought.
Alm. Then I am curs'd