And more at large since I have made this vow.
Perhaps I would repeat it there more solemnly.
Tis that, or some such melancholy thought;
Ipon my word, no more.

Leon. I will attend you.

Enter ALONZO.

pleas'd thou dost.

Take it for thanks, old man, that I rejoice Alon. The lord Gonsalez comes to tell your To see thee weep on this occasion-some

highness The king is just arrived. Abn Conduct him in.

[Exit Alonzo.
That's his pretence: his errand is, I know,
To fill my ears with Garcia's valiant deeds;
And gild and magnify his son's exploits.
But I am arm'd with ice around my heart,
Not to be warm'd with words, or idle elo-

quence.

Leon. Madam, the king.

Symphony of warlike Music. Enter the
KING, attended by GARCIA and several Of-

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

juncture.

ficers: 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 kneels; afterwards GONSALEZ kneels and Of that offensive black; on me be all kisses the KING'S Hand, while GARCIA The violation of your vow; for you, does the same to the PRINCESS.

It shall be your excuse that I command it. King. Almeria, rise- My best Gonsalez, Gar. [Kneeling] Your pardon, sir, if I 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.

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
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

[Prisoners led off. his eyes, 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.

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?

Osm. 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 Gonsalez.
Gon. That friend may be herself: seem not
to heed
His arrogant reply: she looks concern'd.

King. What welcome and what honours, King. I'll have inquiry made; perhaps his

are yours.

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

friend

Ishall be mine to pay devotion here;
Mthis fair shrine to lay my laurels down,
And raise love's altar on the spoils of war.
Conquest and triumph now, are mine no more;
Nor will I victory in camps adore:
Fickle in fields, unsteadily she flies,
But rules with settled sway in Zara's eyes.
[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE L. The Aisle of a Temple.
Enter ALMERIA and LEONORA.

cares,

May lay the burden down aud sink in slumbers
Of peace eternal. My father then
Will cease his tyranny; and Garcia too
Vill fly my pale deformity with loathing.
My soul, enlarg'd from from its vile bonds, will
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 soul. O joy too great!

Alm. It was thy fear, or else some tran

sient wind

Alm. 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,
Looking 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
Of 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.

SCENE 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!
O 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!

Re-enter HELL

Leon. Alas, she stirs not yet, nor lifts her
eyes!

He too is fainting-Help me, help me, stranger,
Whoe'er thou art, and lend thy hand to raise
These bodies.

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

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

Enter ALMERIA and LEONORA.
Leon. Behold the sacred vault, within whose
tomb

The poor remains of good Anselmo rest,
Vet fresh and unconsum'd by time or worms.
What do I see? O heav'n! either my eyes
Are false, or still the marble door remains
Inclos'd; the iron gates, that lead to death
Beneath, 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;

Is this a father?

Osm. Look on thy Alphonso.
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 Stiffning 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,

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

man,

In murmurs round my head. I rose and listen'd,
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
That I indeed should be so blest to see thee-

Alm. But still how cam'st thou hither? how
thus?-Ha!

What's he who, like thyself, is started here

Ere seen?

And war; for in the fight I saw him fall,
Heli. But fell unhurt, a pris'ner as yourself,
And as yourself made free: hither I came
Impatiently to seek you, where I knew
Your grief would lead you to lament Anselmo.
Osın. What means the bounty of all-gra-
cious heav'n,

That persevering still, with open hand

It scatters good, as in a waste of mercy?
Where will this end? But heav'n is infinite
In all, and can continue to bestow,
When scanty number shall be spent in telling.
Leon. Or I'm deceiv'd, or I beheld the

glimpse

Of two in shining habits, cross the aisle;
Who, by their pointing, seem'd to mark this

place.

Alm. Sure I have dreamt, if we must part

so soon.

Not heard! ungrateful Osmyn!
Osm. Ha! 'tis Zara!

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;

And only for his sorrows chose this solitude?
Look round, joy is not here, nor cheerfulness.
You have pursu'd misfortune to its dwelling,
Yet look for gaiety and gladness there.

Zara. Inhuman! Why, why dost thou rack

me thus,

And with perverseness, from the purpose,

answer?

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 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:

Enter the KING, PEREZ, and Attendants.
King. Why does the fairest of her kind
withdraw

Her shining from the day, to gild this scene
Of death and night? Ha! what disorder's this?

Compassion! scarce will own that name, so soon,
So quickly was it love, for thou wert godlike Somewhat I heard of king and rival mention'd.
Kneeling on earth, I loos'd my hair, What's he that dares be rival to the king,

Ev'n then.

And with it dried those wat'ry cheeks, then chaf'd
Tev 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
You hated Manuel, urg'd my husband
To this invasion, where he late was lost,
Where all is lost, and I am made a slave.
Look on me now, from empire fall'n to slavery;

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 she accuse him? [Aside.

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, Presume to-day to plead audacious love, And build bold hopes on my dejected fate? King. Better for him to tempt the rage of heav'n, Think ou my suffrings first, then look on me; And wrench the bolt, red-hissing from the hand Think on the cause of all, then view thyself: Of him that thunders, than but think that inReflect on Osmyn, and then look on Zara,

solence.

The falin, 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

Osm. A fatal wretch - a huge stupendous

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;
Ruin! '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
scaffolding

Of sceptres, crowns, and thrones; they have
serv'd their end,
And are, like luniber, to be left and scorn'd.
Osm. Why was I made the instrument, to

throw

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.

Osm. 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 growling baseness-Thou say'st 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.
Traitor, monster, cold and perfidious slave!
A slave, 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!

Divinity embrac'd; to whips and prisons
Drag him with speed, and rid me of his face.
[Guards seize Osmyn.
Zara. Compassion led 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.

АСТ ІІ.

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