OFT has the buskin'd muse, with action mean,
Debas'd the glory of the tragic scene:
While puny villains, dress'd in purple pride,
With crimes obscene, the heaven-born rage be-

lied.

To her belongs to mourn the hero's fate,
To trace the errors of the wise and great;
To mark the excess of passions too refin'd,
And paint the tumults of a godlike mind;
Where, mov'd with rage, exalted thoughts com-

bine,
And darkest deeds with beauteous colours shine.
So lights and shades, in a well-mingled draught,
By curious touch of artful pencils wrought,
With soft deceit amuse the doubtful eye,
Pleas'd with the conflict of the various dye.
Thus through the following scenes, with sweet
surprise,

Virtue and guilt in dread confusion rise,
And love and hate, at once, and grief and joy,

Pity and rage, their mingled force employ. Here the soft virgin sees, with secret shame, Forc'd with reluctant virtue to approve Her charms excelled by friendship's purer flame, The generous hero who rejects her love. Behold him there, with gloomy passions stain❜d, A wife suspected, and an injur'd friend; Yet such the toil, where innocence is caught, That rash suspicion seems without a fault. We dread a while lest beauty should succeed, Mark well the black revenge, the cruel guile, And almost wish even virtue's self may bleed. The traitor-fiend trampling the lovely spoil Of beauty, truth, and innocence opprest; Then let the rage of furies fire your breast. His bleeding country, his lov'd father slain, Yet may his mighty wrongs, his just disdain, His martial pride, your admiration raise, And crown him with involuntary praise.

THE

SCENE I-Battlements, with a Sea Prospect.

Enter ZANGA.

peace,

Has wrought my mind to this, I cannot tell : But horrors now are not displeasing to me:

[Thunder.

I like this rocking of the battlements.
Rage on, ye winds! burst, clouds, and waters
roar !

You bear a just resemblance of my fortune,
And suit the gloomy habit of my soul.

Enter ISABELLA.

Who's there? My love?

Isa. Why have you left my bed?

Your absence more affrights me than the storm.
Zan. The dead alone, in such a night, can rest,
And I indulge my meditation here.
Woman, away. I chuse to be alone.

Isa. I know you do, and therefore will not leave you;

Excuse me, Zanga, therefore dare not leave you.
Is this a night for walks of contemplation?
Something unusual hangs upon your heart,
And I will know it: by our loves I will.
Το you I sacrificed my virgin fame;
Ask I too much to share in your distress?
Zan. In tears? Thou fool! Then hear me, and
be plunged

In hell's abyss, if ever it escape thee.
To strike thee with astonishment at once,
I hate Alonzo. First recover that,
And then thou shalt hear farther.

Isa. Hate Alonzo!

I own, I thought Alonzo most your friend,
And that he lost the master in that name.
Zan. Hear then. 'Tis twice three years since
that great man

(Great let me call him, for he conquered me)
Made me the captive of his arm in fight.
He slew my father, and threw chains o'er me,
While I, with pious rage, pursued revenge.

For something, or for nothing, in his pride
He struck me-While I tell it, do I live?
He smote me on the cheek-I did not stab him,
For that were poor revenge E'er since, his

folly

Has strove to bury it beneath a heap
Of kindnesses, and thinks it is forgot.
Insolent thought! and like a second blow!
Affronts are innocent, where men are worthless ;
And such alone can wisely drop revenge.

Isa. But with more temper, Zanga, tell your

story;

To see your strong emotions startles me.

Zan. Yes, woman, with the temper that befits it.
Has the dark adder venom? So have I,
When trod upon. Proud Spaniard, thou shalt
feel me !

For from that day, that day of my dishonour,
I from that day have cursed the rising sun,
Which never failed to tell me of my shame.
I from that day have blessed the coming night,
Which promised to conceal it; but in vain;
The blow returned for ever in my dream.
Yet on I toiled, and groaned for an occasion
Of ample vengeance; none is yet arrived.
Howe'er, at present I conceive warm hopes
Of what may wound him sore in his ambition,
Life of his life, and dearer than his soul.
By nightly march he purposed to surprise
The Moorish camp; but I have taken care
They shall be ready to receive his favour.
Failing in this, a cast of utmost moment,
Would darken all the conquests he has won.
Isa. Just as I entered, an express arrived.
Zan. To whom?

Isa. His friend, Don Carlos.

Zan. Be propitious,

Oh, Mahomet, on this important hour,
And give, at length, my famished soul revenge!
What is revenge, but courage to call in

Enter Don MANUEL and Don CARLOS.

Man. My lord Don Carlos, what brings your express?

Car. Alonzo's glory, and the Moors' defeat.
The field is strewed with twice ten thousand slain,
Though he suspects his measures were betrayed.
He'll soon arrive. Oh, how I long to embrace
The first of heroes, and the best of friends!
I loved fair Leonora long before

The chance of battle gave me to the Moors,
From whom so late Alonzo set me free:
And while I groaned in bondage, I deputed
This great Alonzo, whom her father honours,
To be my gentle advocate in love,

To stir her heart, and fan its fires for me.
Man. And what success?
Car. Alas, the cruel maid!-
Indeed her father, who, though high at court,
And powerful with the king, has wealth at heart,
To heal his devastation from the Moors,
Knowing I am richly freighted from the east,
My fleet now sailing in the sight of Spain,
(Heaven guard it safe through such a dreadful
storm!)

Caresses me, and urges her to wed.
Man. Her aged father, see,
Leads her this way.

Car. She looks like radiant Truth,
Brought forward by the hand of hoary Time.
You to the port with speed, 'tis possible
Some vessel is arrived. Heaven grant it bring
Talings, which Carlos may receive with joy!

Enter Don ALVAREZ and LEONORA. Alt. Don Carlos, I am labouring in your fa

vour,

With all a parent's soft authority,
And earnest counsel.

Car. Angels second you!
For all my bliss or misery hangs on it.

Alv. Daughter, the happiness of life depends
On our discretion, and a prudent choice;
Look into those they call unfortunate,
And, closer viewed, you'll find they are unwise:
Some flaw in their own conduct lies beneath,
And 'tis the trick of fools, to save their credit,
Which brought another language into use.
Don Carlos is of ancient, noble blood,

And then his wealth might mend a prince's for

tune.

For him the sun is labouring in the mines,
A faithful slave, and turning earth to gold;
His keels are freighted with that sacred power,
By which even kings and emperors are made.
Sir, you have my good wishes, and I hope
[TO CARLOS.
My daughter is not indisposed to hear you. [Exit,

Car. Oh, Leonora! why art thou in tears? Because I am less wretched than I was? Before your father gave me leave to woo you, Hushed was your bosom, and your eyes serene. Will you for ever help me to new pains, And keep reserves of torment in your hand, To let them loose on every dawn of joy?

Leon. Think you my father too indulgent to me, That he claims no dominion o'er my tears? A daughter sure may be right dutiful, Whose tears alone are free from a restraint. Car. Ah, my torn heart!

Leon. Regard not me, my lord; I shall obey my father.

Car. Disobey him,

Rather than come thus coldly, than come thus
With absent eyes, and alienated mien,
Suffering address, the victim of my love.
Oh, let me be undone the common way,
And have the common comfort to be pitied,
And not be ruined in the mask of bliss,
And so be envied, and be wretched too!
Love calls for love. Not all the pride of beauty,
Those eyes that tell us what the sun is made of,
Those lips, whose touch is to be bought with life,
Those hills of driven snow, which seen are felt;
All these, possessed, are nought but as they are
The proof, the substance of an inward passion,
And the rich plunder of a taken heart.

Leon. Alas, my lord, we are too delicate;
And when we grasp the happiness we wished,
We call on wit to argue it away:

A plainer man would not feel half your pains;
But some have too much wisdom to be happy.
Car. Had I known this before, it had been
well:

I had not then solicited your father
To add to my distress; as you behave,
Your father's kindness stabs me to the heart.
Give me your hand-nay, give it, Leonora ;
You give it not-nay, yet you give it not―
I ravish it.

Leon. I pray, my lord, no more.

Car. Ah, why so sad? You know each sigh does shake me:

Sighs there, are tempests here.

I've heard, bad men would be unblest in Heaven:
What is my guilt, that makes me so with you?
Have I not languished prostrate at thy feet:
Have I not lived whole days upon thy sight?
Have I not seen thee where thou hast not been,
And, mad with the idea, clasped the wind,
And doated upon nothing?

Leon. Court me not,

My tempest-beaten heart is cold to death;
Ah, turn, and let me warm me in thy beauties!
Heavens! what a proof I gave, but two nights
past,

Of matchless love! To fling me at thy feet,
I slighted friendship, and I flew from fame,
Nor heard the summons of the next day's battle:
But darting headlong to thy arms, I left
The promised fight, I left Alonzo too,
To stand the war, and quell a world alone.

Leon. The victor comes.
withdraw.

Car. And must you go?

[Trumpets. My lord, I must

Leon. Why should you wish me stay? Your friend's arrival will bring comfort to you, My presence none; it pains you and myself; For both our sakes, permit me to withdraw.

[Exit. Car. Sure, there is no peril but in love. Oh, how

My foes would boast to see me look so pale!
Enter Don ALONZO.

Alon. Yes, much more-Don Carlos' friend. The conquest of the world would cost me dear, Should it beget one thought of distance in thee. I rise in virtues to come nearer to thee, I conquer with Don Carlos in my eye, And thus I claim my victory's reward.

[Embracing him.
Car. A victory indeed! your godlike arm
Has made one spot the grave of Africa,
Such numbers fell! and the survivors fled,
As frighted passengers from off the strand,
When the tempestuous sea comes roaring on them.
Alon. 'Twas Carlos conquered, 'twas his cruel
chains

Inflamed me to a rage unknown before,
And threw my former actions far behind.

Car. I love fair Leonora,-how I love her!
Yet still I find (I know not how it is)
Another heart, another soul for thee.
Thy friendship warms, it raises, it transports
Like music; pure the joy, without allay,
Whose very rapture is tranquillity:
But love, like wine, gives a tumultuous bliss,
Heightened, indeed, beyond all mortal pleasures,
But mingles pangs and madness in the bowl.

Enter ZANGA.

Zan. She will, my lord, and soon.
Alon. Come near me, Zanga;
For I dare open all my heart to thee.
Never was such a day of triumph known!
There's not a wounded captive in my train,
That slowly followed my proud chariot wheels,
With half a life, and beggary, and chains,
But is a god to me: I am most wretched.
In his captivity thou know'st, Don Carlos,
My friend, (and never was a friend more dear)
Deputed me his advocate in love,

To talk to Leonora's heart, and make
A tender party in her thoughts for him.
What did I do? I loved myself. Indeed,
One thing there is might lessen my offence,
(If such offence admits of being lessened)

I thought him dead; for (by what fate I know not)
His letters never reached me.
Zan. Thanks to Zanga,

Who thence contrived that evil which has hap-
pened.
[Aside.
Alon. Yes, cursed of Heaven! I loved myself,
and now,

In a late action rescued from the Moors,
I have brought home my rival in my friend.
Zan. We hear, my lord, that in that action too,
Your interposing arm preserved his life.

Alon. It did-with more than the expence of

mine;

Which nothing but a love for you could draw! Afric I quelled, in hope by that to purchase Your leave to sigh unscorned; but I complain not;

'Twas but a world, and you are-Leonora.

Leon. That passion, which you boast of, is your guilt,

Alon. You, madam, ought to thank those crimes

you blame;

'Tis they permit you to be thus inhuman,
Without the censure both of earth and heaven-
I fondly thought a last look might be kind,
Farewell for ever! This severe behaviour
Has, to my comfort, made it sweet to die.

[Aside.

Heaven! Alonzo, stay; you must not thus escape me, But hear your guilt at large.

Alon. Oh, Leonora !

What could I do! In duty to my friend,

I saw you; and to see is to admire.
For Carlos did I plead, and most sincerely;
Witness the thousand agonies it cost me
me!
You know I did. I sought but your esteem;
If that is guilt, an angel had been guilty.

I often sighed, nay, wept, but could not help it:
And sure it is no crime to be in pain.

But grant my crime was great; I am greatly cursed;

What would you more? Am I not most undone ? This usage is like stamping on the murdered, When life is fled; most barbarous and unjust. Leon. If from your guilt none suffered but yourself,

It might be so-Farewell.

Alon. Who suffers with me?

[Going.

Leon. Enjoy your ignorance, and let me go. Alon. Alas! what is there I can fear to know, Since I already know your hate? Your actions Have long since told me that.

Leon. They flattered you.
Alon. How! flattered me!

Leon. Oh, search in fate no farther!
I hate thee-Oh, Alonzo, how I hate thee!
Alon. Indeed! and do you weep for hatred
too?

Oh, what a doubtful torment heaves my heart!
I hope it most, and yet I dread it more.
Should it be so-should her tears flow from thence,
How would my soul blaze up in ecstacy!
Ah no! how sink into the depth of horrors!
Leon. Why would you force my stay?
Alon. What mean these tears?

Leon. I weep by chance, nor have my tears a meaning;

But, oh! when first I saw Alonzo's tears,
I knew their meaning well!

[ALON. falls passionately on his knees, and

takes her hand.

Alon. Heavens! what is this? That excellence, for which

Desire was planted in the heart of man; Virtue's supreme reward on this side Heaven; The cordial of my soul-and this destroys meIndeed, I flattered me that thou didst hate.

Leon. Alonzo, pardon me the injury
Of loving you. I struggled with my passion,
And struggled long: let that be some excuse.
Alon. Unkind, you know I think your love a
blessing

Beyond all human blessings! 'tis the price
Of sighs and groans, and a whole year of dying.
But, oh! the curse of curses!-

friend!

Leon. Alas!

-Oh, my

Alon. What says my love? Speak, Leonora. Leon. Was it for you, my lord, to be so quick

In finding out objections to our love?

Think you so strong my love, or weak my virtue,

Alon. Is not the day, then, fixed for your es

pousals?

Leon. Indeed, my father once had thoughts that way;

But, marking how the marriage pained my heart, Long he stood doubtful; but at last resolved, Your counsel, which determines him in all, Should finish the debate.

Alon. O, agony!

Must I not only lose her, but be made
Myself the instrument? Not only die,
But plunge the dagger in my heart myself?
This is refining on calainity.

Leon. What! do you tremble lest you should be mine? For what else can you tremble? Not for that My father places in your power to alter.

Alon. What's in my power? Oh, yes; to stab my friend!

Leon. To stab your friend were barbarous indeed;

Spare him-and murder me. I own; Alonzo,
You well may wonder at such words as these;
I start at them myself; they fright my nature.
Great is my fault; but blame me not alone:
Give him a little blame who took suc pains
To make me guilty.

Alon. Torment! [After a pause, LEON. speaks.
Leon. O my shame!

I sue, and sue in vain: it is most just;
When women sue, they sue to be denied.
You hate me, you despise me! you do well;
For what I've done I hate and scorn myself.
Oh, night, fall on me! I shall blush to death.
Alon. First perish all!

Leon. Say, what have you resolved? My father comes; what answer will you give him?

Alon. What answer! let me look upon that

face,

And read it there.-Devote thee to another!
Not to be borne! a second look undoes me.

Leon. And why undo you? Is it then, my lord,
So terrible to yield to your own wishes,
Because they happen to concur with mine?
Cruel! to take such pains to win a heart,
Which you was conscious you must break with
parting.

Alon. No, Leonora, I am thine for ever, [Runs and embraces her. In spite of Carlos-Ha! who's that? My friend ! [Starts wide from her. Alas, I see him pale! I hear him groan! He foams, he tears his hair, he raves, he bleeds, (I know him by myself) he dies distracted! Leon. How dreadful to be cut from what we