charms.

pleas'd thou dost.

Take it for thanks, old man, that I rejoice
To see thee weep on this occasion--some
Here are, who seem to mourn at our success!
Why is't, Almeria, that you meet our eyes,
Upon this solemn day, in these sad weeds?
In opposition to my brightness, you
And yours are all like daughters of affliction.
Alm. Forgive me, sir, if I in this offend.
The year, which I have vow'd to pay to heav'n,
In mourning and strict life, for my deliv'rance
From wreck and death, wants yet to be expir'd,
King. Your zeal to heav'n is great, so is

your debt;
Yet something too is due to me, who gave
That life which heav'n preserv'd. A day be-

stow'd

Then, then to weep, and pray, and grieve
By heav'n!

There's not a slave, a shackled slave of mine,
But should have smil'd that hour, through all
his care,

Aim. I doubt not of the worth of Garcia's And shook his chains in transport and rude

deeds, Which had been brave, though I had ne'er been born.

Leon. Madan, the king.

harmony!

Gon. What she has done was in excess of
goodness;

Betray'd by too much piety, to seem
As if she had offended.-Sure, no more.
King. To seem is to commit, at this con-
juncture.

Symphony of warlike Music. Enter the
KING, attended by GARCIA and several Of-
frers: Files of Prisoners, in Chains, and I wo'not have a seeming sorrow seen
Guards. ALMERIA meets the KING, and To-day.-Retire, divest yourself with speed
kneris; afterwards GONSALEZ kneels and Of that offensive black; on me be all
Kasses the KING'S Hand, while GARCIA The violation of your vow; for you,
does the same to the PRINCESS.

King. Almeria, rise - My best Gonsalez,

It shall be your excuse that I command it. Gar. [Kneeling] Your pardon, sir, if I presume so far,

As to remind 'you of your gracious promise. That had our pomp been with your presence King. Rise, Garcia-I forgot. Yet stay, Al

meria.

But to devote, and yield myself for ever
The slave and creature of my royal mistress.
Gon. O let me prostrate pay my worthless
thanks-

King. No more; my promise long since
pass'd, thy services,

And Garcia's well-try'd valour, all oblige me.
This day we triumph; but to-morrow's sun,
Garcia, shall shine to grace thy nuptials-
Alm. Oh!
[Faints.

Gar. She faints! help to support her.
Gon. She recovers.

King. A fit of bridal fear. How is't, Almeria?
Alm. A sudden chillness seizes on my spirits.
Your leave, sir, to retire.

King. Garcia, conduct her.

[Garcia leads Almeria to the Door,
and returns.

This idle vow hangs on her woman's fears.
I'll have a priest shall preach her from her faith,
And make it sin not to renounce that vow

Which I'd have broken. Now, what would
Alonzo?

Enter ALONZO and Attendants.

Alon. Your beauteous captive, Zara, is arriv'd,
And with a train as if she still were wife
To Albucacim, and the moor had conquer'd.
King. It is our will she should be so at-

tended.

grac'd,

Th' expecting crowd had been deceiv'd; and seen
The monarch enter not triumphant, but
In pleasing triumph led; your beauty's slave.
Zara. If I on any terms could condescend
To like captivity, or think those honours,
Which conquerors in courtesy bestow,
Of equal value with unborrow'd rule,
And native right, to arbitrary sway,
I might be pleas'd, when I behold this train
With usual homage wait. But when I feel
These bonds, I look with loathing on myself;
And scorn vile slavery, though doubly hid
Beneath mock-praises, and dissembled state.
King. Those bonds! 'Twas my command
you should be free;

How durst you, Perez, disobey ?
Per. 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!
Her eyes did more than bid-Free her and hers
With speed; yet stay-my hands alone can

make

King. Born to excel, and to command!
As by transcendent beauty to attract
All eyes, so by pre-eminence of soul
To rule all hearts.

Garcia, what's he, who with contracted brow, Bear hence these prisoners. Garcia, which is he, [Beholding Osmyn, as they unbind him. Of whose mute valour you relate such wonders? And sullen port, glooms downwards with

his eyes,

[Prisoners led off. Gar. Osmyn, who led the Moorish horse; At once regardless of his chains, or liberty?

but he,
Great sir, at her request, attends on Zara.
King. He is your prisoner; as you please
dispose him.
Gar. I would oblige him, but he shuns my
kindness;

And with a haughty mien, and stern civility,
Dumbly declines all offers: if he speak,
'Tis scarce above a word; as he were born
Alone to do, and did disdain to talk;

At least to talk where he must not command.

King. Such sullenness, and in a man so brave, Must have some other cause than his captivity. Did Zara, then, request he might attend her? Gar. My lord, she did.

King. That, join'd with his behaviour, Begets a doubt. I'd have 'em watch'd; perhaps Her chains hang heavier on him than his own.

Enter ZARA and OSMYN, in Chains; conducted by PEREZ and a Guard, attended by SELIM and several Mutes.

King. What welcome and what honours,
beauteous Zara,

A king and conqueror can give, are yours.
A conqueror indeed, where you are won;
Who with such lustre strike admiring eyes,

Gar. That, sir, is he of whom I spoke;

that's Osmyn. King. He answers well the character you gave him. Whence comes it, valiant Osmyn, that a man So great in arms, as thou art said to be, So hardly can endure captivity, The common chance of war?

Osın. Because captivity

Has robb'd me of a dear and just revenge.
King. I understand not that.
Osm. I would not have you,
Zara. 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 sus-
pected. [To Gonsales.
Gon. That friend may 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?
Zara. Heli.

King. Garcia, that search shall be your care

mount,

Alm. It was a fancy'd noise, for all is hush'd. And range the starry orbs and milky ways Leon. It bore the accent of a human voice. To my Alphonso's o's so soul. O joy too great! Aim. It was thy fear, or else some tran

sient wind

Aim. No, all is hush'd, and still as death-
'tis dreadful!

How rev'rend is the face of this tall pile,
Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads,
To bear aloft its arch and pond'rous roof,
By its own weight made stedfast and im-

moveable,
Locking tranquillity. It strikes an awe
And terror on my aching sight: the tombs
And monumental caves of death look cold,
And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart.
Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice;
Nay, quickly speak to me, and let me hear
Thy voice my own affrights me with its

echoes.

Leon. Let us return: the horror of this place, And silence, will increase your melancholy. Alm. It may my fears, but cannot add to that. No, I will on; show me Anselmo's tomb; Lead me o'er bones and skulls, and moulder

ing earth

Of human bodies, for I'll mix with them;
Or wind me in the shroud of some pale corse
Yet green in earth, rather than be the bride
On Garcia's more detested bed: that thought
Exerts my spirit; and my present fears
Are lost in dread of greater ill. Then show me,
Lead me, for I'm bolder grown: Lead on
Where I may kneel, and pay my vows again
To him, to heav'n, and my Alphonso's soul.
[Exeunt.

SzvE IL. Opens and discovers a Place of
Tombs; one Monument fronting the View.

Enter HELI.

O ectasy of thought! Help me, Anselmo!
Help me, Alphonso! take me, reach thy hand;
To thee, to thee I call, to thee, Alphonso!
Q Alphonso!

Enter OSMYN 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! O 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,
And from my eyes.

Osm. Amazement and illusion!
Rivet and nail me where I stand, ye pow'rs,
[Coming forward.

That motionless I may be still deceiv'd.
Let me not stir or breathe, lest I dissolve
That tender, lovely form of painted air,
So like Almeria. Ha! it sinks, it falls;
I'll catch it ere it goes, and grasp her shade.
Tis life! 'tis warm! 'tis she! 'tis she herself!
Nor dead, nor shade, but breathing and alive!
It is Almeria, 'tis, it is my wife!

Heli. Ha! 'tis he! and with Almeria!
O miracle of happiness! O joy
Unhoped for! Does Almeria live?
Osm. Where is she?

Let me behold and touch her, and be sure
'Tis she,

Heli. I wander through this maze of monuments, Y-t cannot find him-hark! sure 'tis the voice U one complaining-there it sounds-I'll fol- Look up, Almeria, bless me with thy eyes; [Exit. Look on thy love, thy lover, and thy husband. Alm. I've sworn I'll not wed Garcia: why

low it.

Enter ALMERIA and LEONORA.
Leon. Behold the sacred vault, within whose Is this a father?
tomb

The poor remains of good Anselmo rest,
Yet fresh and unconsum'd by time or worms.
What do I see? O heav'n! either my eyes
Are tai'se, or still the marble door remains
I ur'an'd; the iron gates, that lead to death
Beath, are still wide-stretch'd upon their hinge,
And staring on us with unfolded leaves.

Alm. Sure 'tis the friendly yawn of death
for me;

d'ye force me?

Osm. Look on thy Alphonso.
onso.
Thy father is not here, my love, nor Garcia:
Nor am I what I seem, but thy Alphonso.
Am I so alter'd, or art thou so chang'd,
That seeing my disguise, thou seest not me?
Alm. It is, it is Alphonso! 'tis his face,
His voice; I know him now, I know him all.
Oh! how hast thou return'd? how hast thou
That thus relenting they have giv'n thee back You must be quick, for love will lend her wings.
To earth, to light and life, to love and me.
Osm. O I'll not ask, nor answer how, or
why

We both have backward trod the paths of fate
To meet again in life; to know I have thee,
Is knowing more than any circumstance
Or means by which I have thee-

To fold thee thus, to press thy balmy lips,
And gaze upon thy eyes, is so much joy,
I have no leisure to reflect, or know,
Or trifle time in thinking.

Alm. Stay awhile

Let me look on thee yet a little more.

Osm. And why? what dost thou mean? why

dost thou gaze so?

Alm. I know not, 'tis to see thy face, I think-
It is too much! too much to bear, and live!
To see him thus again is such profusion
Of joy, of bliss-I cannot bear-I must
Be mad-I cannot be transported thus!
Osm. Thou excellence, thou joy, thou heav'n

of love!

alarm'd?

Alm. What love? who is she? why are you
Osm. She's the reverse of thee; she's my
unhappiness.

Harbour no thought that may disturb thy peace;
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 thought,

So shall

you still hehold her.

Alm. Where hast thou been? and how art Enter ZARA and SELIM. thou alive? Zara. See where he stands, folded and fix'd Sure from thy father's tomb thou didst arise! to earth, Osm. I did; and thou, my love, didst call Stiff'ning in thought, a statue among statues! me; thou. Why, cruel Osmyn, dost thou fly me thus? Alm. True; but how cam'st thou there? Am I more loathsome to thee than the grave, That thou dost seek to shield thee there, and shun

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,

My love? But to the grave I'll follow thee-
He looks not, minds not, hears not: barb'rous

man,

And thought I heard thy spirit call Alphonso; Am I neglected thus? am I despis'd?
I thought I saw thee too; but O, I thought not Not heard! ungrateful Osmyn!

That I indeed should be so blest to see thee- Osm. Ha! 'tis Zara!

Alm. But still how cam'st thou hither? how

Osm. I wish at least our parting were a

dream, Or we could sleep till we again were mel. Heli. Zara with Selim, sir; I

saw

Zara. Yes, traitor! Zara, lost, abandon'd Zara,
Is a regardless suppliant now to Osmyn.
The slave, the wretch that she redeem'd from

death,
Disdains to listen now, or look on Zara.

Osm. Far be the guilt of such reproaches

from me;

Give it me as it is; I ask no more and 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 own that name, so soon,
So quickly was it love, for thou wert godlike
Ev'n then. Kneeling on earth, I loos'd my hair,
And with it dried those wat'ry cheeks, then chaf'd
Thy temples, till reviving blood arose,

And like the morn vermilion'd o'er thy face.
O heav'n! how did my heart rejoice and ache,
When I beheld the day-break of thy eyes,
And felt the balm of thy respiring lips!
0, why do I relate what I have done?

What did I not? was't not for you this war
Commenc'd? Not knowing who you were, nor

why

Her shining from the day, to gild this scene
Of death and night? Ha! what disorder's this?
Somewhat I heard of king and rival mention'd.
What's he that dares be rival to the king,
Or lift his eyes to like where I adore?

Zara. There, he, your pris'ner, and that was
my slave.
King. How! better than my hopes! does
[Aside.

she accuse him?

Zara. Am I become so low by my captivity, And do your arms so lessen what they conquer, That Zara must be made the sport of slaves? And shall the wretch, whom yester sun beheld Waiting my nod, the creature of my pow'r, You hated Manuel, I urg'd my husband Presume to-day to plead audacious love, To this invasion, where he late was lost, And build bold hopes on my dejected fate? Where all is lost, and I am made a slave. King. Better for him to tempt the rage of Look on me now, from empire fall'n to slavery; heav'n, Think on my suffrings first, then look on me; And wrench the bolt, red-hissing from the hand Thunk on the cause of all, then view thyself: Of him that thunders, than but think that inReflect on Osmyn, and then look on Zara, The fair'n, the lost, and now the captive Zara; Tis daring for a god. Hence to the wheel And now abandon'd-say, what then is Osmyn! With that Ixion, who aspires to hold

solence.

Usm. A fatal wretch - a huge stupendous Divinity embrac'd; to whips and prisons

ruin,
That, tumbling on its prop, crush'd all beneath,
And bore contiguous palaces to earth.
Zara. Yet thus, thus fall'n, thus levell'd with

the vilest,

If I have gain'd thy love, 'tis glorious ruin;
tuin! 'tis still to reign, and to be more
A queen, for what are riches, empire, pow'r,
But larger means to gratify the will?
The steps on which we tread, to rise and reach
Our wish; and that obtain'd, down with the

In bonds the frame of this exalted mind?
Zara. We may be free, the conqueror is
mine!

In chains, unseen, I hold him by the heart,
And can unwind and strain him as I please.
Give me thy love, I'll give thee liberty.

OsL. In vain you offer, and in vain require
What neither can bestow. Set free yourself,
And leave a slave the wretch that would be so.
Zara. Thou canst not mean so poorly as
thou talk'st.

Osm. Alas you know me not.
Zara. Not who thou art:

But what this last ingratitude declares,
This grovling baseness - Thou say'st true,
know

I

Thee not, for what thou art yet wants a name:
But something so unworthy and so vile,
That to have lov'd thee makes me yet more lost,
Than all the malice of my other fate.
Trastor, monster, cold and perfidious slave!
A alave, not daring to be free! nor dares
To love above him, for 'tis dangerous:
There, there's the dreadful sound, the king's

thy rival!

Drag him with speed, and rid me of his face.
[Guards seize Osmyn.
Zara. Compassion Ted me to bemoan his
state,
Whose former faith had merited much more:
And through my hopes in you, I undertook
He should be set at large: thence sprung his

insolence;
And what was charity he constru'd love.

King. Enough; his punishment be what you
please.

But let me lead you from this place of sorrow,
To one where young delights attend;
Where ev'ry hour shall roll in circling joys,
And love shall wing the tedious-wasting day.
Life without love is load, and time stands still:
What we refuse to him, to death we give,
And then, then only, when we love, we live.
[Exeunt.

ACT III.

But bless my son! visit not him for me!
(It is his hand! this was his pray'r;-yet more):
Let ev'ry hair, which sorrow by the roots
Tears from my hoary and devoted head,

Sel Madam, the king is here, and ent'ring now. Be doubled in thy mercies to my son! Zara. As I could wish; by heav'n I'll be Not for myself, but him, hear me, all-gra