I pray, forbear-transported at his sight,
After so long a bondage, and your friend,
Who could suspect him of an artifice?
No farther I inquired, but let him pass,
False to my trust, at least imprudent in it.
Our watch relieved, I went into the garden,
As is my custom, when the night's serene,
And took a moon-light walk: when soon I heard
A rustling in arbour that was near me.
I saw two lovers in each other's arms,
Embracing and embraced. Anon the man
Arose and falling back some paces from her,
Gazed ardently awhile, then rushed at once,
And throwing all himself into her bosom,
There softly sighed; 'oh, night of ecstasy!
When shall we meet again?'-Don Carlos then
Led Leonora forth.
Alon. Oh, oh, my heart! [he sinks into a chair] Zan. Groan on, and with the sound refresh my soul!
'Tis through his heart, his knees smite one another. 'Tis through his brain, his eye-balls roll in anguish.
My lord, my lord, why do you rack my soul?
Speak to me, let me know that you still live.
Do not you know me, sir? pray, look upon me:
You think too deeply-I'm your own Zanga,
So loved, so cherished, and so faithful to you.-
Why start you in such fury?-nay, my lord,
For heaven's sake sheathe your sword! what can
this mean?
Fool that I was, to trust you with the secret,
And you unkind to break your word with me.
Oh, passion for a woman!-on the ground!
Where is your boasted courage? where your scorn,
And prudent rage, that was to cure your grief,
And chase your love-bred agonies away?"
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Alon. Oh, depth of horror! he!-my bosom friend!
Zan. Alas, compose yourself, my lord.
Alon. To death!
Gaze on her with both eyes so ardently!
Give them to the vultures, tear them all in pieces!
Zan. Most excellent! [aside]
Alon. Hark! you can keep a secret.
In yonder arbour bound with jasmine-
Who's that? what villain's that? unhand her?-
murder!-
Tear them asunder—murder—how they grind
My heart betwixt them !—oh, let go my heart!
Yet let it go-embracing and embraced!'
Oh, pestilence!—who let him in ?—a traitor.
[Goes to stab Zanga, he prevents him.]
Rise, sir, for honour's sake. Why should the Alas! my head turns round, and my limbs fail me.
Why should the vanquished triumph?
Alon. Would to heaven
That I were lover still; oh, she was all!
My fame, my friendship, and my love of arms,
All stooped to her, my blood was her possession.
Deep in the secret foldings of my heart
She lived with life, and far the dearer she,
But-and-no more-set nature on a blaze,
Give her a fit of jealousy-away-
To think on't is the torment of the damned,
And not to think on't is impossible.
How fair the cheek that first alarmed my soul!
How bright the eye that set it on a flame!
How soft the breast on which I laid my peace
For years to slumber unawaked by care!
How fierce the transport! how sublime the bliss!
How deep, how black, the horror and despair!"
Zan. You said you'd bear it like a man.
Alon. I do.
Am I not almost distracted?
Alon. Oh, villain, villain, most accurst!
If thou didst know it, why did'st let me wed?
Zan. Hear me, my lord, your anger will abate.
I knew it not:-I saw them in the garden;
But saw no more than you might well expect
To see in lovers destined for each other;
By heaven I thought their meeting innocent.
Who could suspect fair Leonora's virtue,
Till after proofs conspired to blacken it?
Sad proofs, which came too late, which broke not
Eternal curses on Alvarez' haste!
Till holy rites had made the wanton yours:
And then, I own, I laboured to conceal it,
In duty and compassion to your peace.
Alon. Live now, be damned hereafter-for I
want thee.-
Oh, night of ecstacy!'-ha! was't not so?
I will enjoy this murder.-Let me think-
The jasmine bower-'tis secret and remote:
Go wait me there, and take my dagger with thee. |
[Exit Zanga.
How the sweet sound still sings within my ear!
When shall we meet again?--to-night, in hell.
As he is going, enter LEONORA.
Ha! I'm surprised! I stagger at her charms!
Oh, angel-devil!shall I stab her now?
No it shall be as I at first determined.
To kill her now were half my vengeance lost.
Then must I now dissemble--if I can.
Alon. Art thou concerned for me?
Leon. My lord you fright me.
Is this the fondness of your nuptial hour?
I am ill-used, my lord, I must not bear it.
Why, when I woo your hand, is it denied me?
Your very eyes, why are they taught to shun me?
Nay, my good lord, I have a title here
[taking his hand.
And I will have it. Am I not your wife?
Have I not just authority to know
That heart which I have purchased with my own?
Leon. My lord, excuse me; see a second time Lay it before me then; it is my due.
I come in embassy from all your friends,
Whose joys are languid, uninspired by you.
Alon. This moment, Leonora, I was coming
To thee, and all--but sure, or I mistake,
Or thou can'st well inspire my friends with joy.
Leon. Why sighs my lord?
Alon. I sighed not, Leonora.
Unkind Alonzo! though I might demand it;
Behold I kneel! see, Leonora kneels!
And deigns to be a beggar for her own!
Tell me the secret, I conjure you tell me.
The bride foregoes the homage of her day,
Alvarez' daughter trembles in the dust.
Speak then, I charge you speak, or I expire,
Leon. I thought you did; your sighs are mine, And load you with my death. My lord, my lord! my lord,
And shall I feel them all.
Alon. Dost flatter me?
Leon. If my regards for you are flattery, Full far indeed I stretched the compliment In this day's solemn rite.
Alon. What rite?
Leon. You sport me.
Alon. Indeed I do; my heart is full of mirth. Leon. And so is mine-I look on cheerfulness As on the health of virtue.
Alon. Virtue !-damn
Leon. What says my lord?
Alon. Thou art exceeding fair.
Leon. Beauty alone is but of little worth;
But when the soul and body of a piece,
Both shine alike, then they obtain a price,
And are a fit reward for gallant actions,
[he breaks from her, she sinks upon the floor. Leon. Are these the joys which fondly I conceived?
And is it thus a wedded life begins?
What did I part with, when I gave my heart?
I knew not that all happiness went with it.
Why did I leave my tender father's wing,
And venture into love! the maid that loves,
Goes out to sea upon a shattered plank,
And puts her trust in miracles for safety.
Where shall I sigh?-where pour out my com-
plaints
He that should hear, should succour, should re-
dress,
He is the source of all.
Alon. Go to thy chamber;
I soon will follow; that which now disturbs thee
Heaven's pay on earth for such great souls as yours; Shall be cleared up, and thou shalt not condemn
If fair and innocent I am your due.
Alon. Innocent! [aside.]
Leon. How, my lord! I interrupt you.
[exit Leonora. Oh how like innocence she looks!-what, stab her! And rush into her blood!-I never can!
Alon. No, my best life! I must not part with In her guilt shines, and nature holds my hand.
This hand is mine-oh! what a hand is here!
So soft, souls sink into it, and are lost!
How then? why, thus-no more! it is determined.
Alon. What less can speak my joy?
gaze, and I forget my own existence;
'Tis all a vision-my head swims in heaven.
Wherefore! oh, wherefore this expense of beauty?
And wherefore, oh!-
Why, I could gaze upon thy looks for ever,
And drink in all my being from thine eyes;
And I could snatch a flaming thunderbolt,
And hurl destruction!-
Leon. How, my lord! what mean you?
Acquaint me with the secret of your heart,
Or cast me out for ever from your love.
Zan. I fear his heart has failed him. She must
die.
Can I not rouse the snake that's in his bosom,
To sting out human nature and effect it? [aside.
Alon. This vast and solid earth, that blazing sun, Those skies through which it rolls, must all have end.
What then is man? the smallest part of nothing.
Day buries day, month month, and year the year,
Our life is but a chain of many deaths;
Can then death's self be feared? our life much
rather,
Life is the desert, life the solitude,
Death joins us to the great majority;
'Tis to be borne to Platos, and to Cæsars;
'Tis to be great for ever;
'Tis pleasure, 'tis ambition then to die.
Zan. I think, my lord, you talked of death.
Alon. I did.
Zan. I give you joy, then Leonora's dead.
Alon. No, Zanga, the greatest guilt is mine.
'Tis mine who might have marked his midnight
visit,
While her last kiss still glows upon his cheek.
But when he finds Alonzo is no more,
How will he rush like lightning to her arms!
There sigh, there lauguish, there pour out his
But not in grief-sad obsequies to thee!
But thou wilt be at peace, nor see, nor hear
The burning kiss, the sigh of ecstacy,
Their throbbing hearts, that jostle one another;
Who might have marked his tameness to resign Thank heaven, these torments will be all my own. her;
Who might have marked her sudden turn of love:
These, and a thousand tokens more; and yet,
For which the saints absolve my soul! did wed.
Zan. Where does this tend?
Alon. To shed a woman's blood
Would stain my sword, and make my wars in-
glorious!
But just resentment to myself, bears in it
A stamp of greatness above vulgar minds.
He who, superior to the checks of nature,
Dares make his life the victim of his reason,
Does in some sort that reason deify,
And takes a sight at heaven.
'Tis not your reason, but her beauty finds
Those arguments, and throws you on your sword.
You can not close an eye that is so bright,
You can not strike a breast that is so soft,
That has ten thousand ecstacies in store-
For Carlos?-no, my lord, I mean for you.
Alon. Oh, through my heart and marrow ! pr'y
Nor more upbraid the weakness of thy lord.
I own, I tried, I quarrelled with my heart
And pushed it on, and bid it give her death;
But, oh, her eyes struck first, and murdered me.
Zan. I know not what to answer to my lord.
Men are but men; we did not make ourselves.
Farewell then, my best lord, since you must die.
Oh, that I were to share your monument,
And in eternal darkness close these eyes
Alon. I'll ease thee of that pain. Let Carlos die, O'ertake him on the road, and see it done, 'Tis my command. [gives his signet.
Zan. I dare not disobey.
Alon. My Zanga now, I have thy leave to die.
Zan. Ah, sir! think, think again. Are all men
buried
In Carlos' grave? you know not womankind.
When once the throbbing of the heart has broke
The modest zone with which it first was tied,
Each man she meets will be a Carlos to her.
Alon. That thought has more of hell than had
the former.
Another, and another, and another!
And each shall cast a smile upon my tomb.
I am convinced; I must not, will not die.
Zan. You can not die; nor can you murder her.
What then remains? in nature no third way,
But to forget, and so to love again.
Zan. If you forgive, the world will call you good,
If you forget, the world will call you wise;
If you receive her to your grace again,
The world will call you very, very kind.
Alon. Zanga, I understand thee well. She dies,
Though my arm trembles at the stroke, she dies.
Zan. That's truly great. What think you 'twas
The Greek and Roman name in such a lustre,
But doing right in stern despite to nature,
Shutting their ears to all her little cries,
When great, august, and godlike justice called?
Against those scenes which I am doomed to suffer! At Aulis, one poured out a daughter's life,
Alon. What dost thou mean?
Zan. And is it then unknown?
And gained more glory than by all his wars;
Another slew his sister in just rage;
Oh, grief of heart to think that you should ask it! A third; the theme of all succeeding times,
Sure you distrust that ardent love I bear you,
Gave to the cruel axe a darling son.
Else could you doubt when you are laid in dust-Nay more, for justice some devote themselves,
But it will cut my poor heart through and through,
To see those revel on your sacred tomb,
Who brought you thither by their lawless loves.
For there they'll revel, and exult to find
Him sleep so fast, who else might mar their joys.
Alon. Distraction!--but Don Carlos well thou
Is sheathed in steel, and bent on other thoughts.
Zan. I'll work him to the murder of his friend.
Yes, till the fever of his blood returns,
As he at Carthage, an immortal name!
Yet there is one step left above them all,
Above their history, above their fable:
A wife, bride, mistress unenjoyed-do that,
And tread upon the Greek and Roman glory.
Alon. 'Tis done!-again new transports fire my
brain:
I had forgot it, 'tis my bridal night,
Friend, give me joy, we must be gay together;
See that the festival be duly honoured.
And when with garlands the full bowl is crown- | And such her ardent wish it should be true,
Zan. Ha!-you're pale.
Alon. Is Carlos murdered?
Zan. I obeyed your order.
Six ruffians overtook him on the road;
He fought as he was wont, and four he slew,
Then sunk beneath an hundred wounds to death.
His last breath blest Alonzo, and desired
His bones might rest near yours.
Alon. Oh, Zanga! Zanga!
But I'll not think: for I must act, and thinking
Would ruin me for action. Oh, the medley
Of right and wrong! the chaos of my brain!
He should and should not die-you should obey
And not obey. It is a day of darkness,
Of contradictions, and of many deaths.
Where's Leonora, then? quick, answer me;
I'm deepin horrors, I'll be deeper still.
I find thy artifice did take effect,
And she forgives my late deportment to her.
Zan. I told her from your childhood you was
On any great surprise, but chiefly then
When cause of sorrow bore it company,
To have your passion shake the seat of reason;
A momentary ill, which soon blew o'er,
Then did I tell her of Don Carlos' death,
Wisely suppressing by what means he fell,
And laid the blame on that. At first she doubted:
But such the honest artifice I used,
That she, at length, was fully satisfied.
Alon. 'Twas well she was. In our late interview My passion so far threw me from my guard, Methinks 'tis strange that conscious of her guilt, She saw not through its thin disguise my heart. Zan. But what design you sir, and how? Alon. I'll tell thee.
Thus I've ordained it. In the jas'mine bower,
The place which she dishonoured with her guilt,
There will I meet her; the appointment's made;
And calmly spread, for I can do it now,
The blackness of her crime before her sight,
And then with all the cool solemnity
Of public justice, give her to the grave.
Zan. Why, get thee gone! horror and night go with thee.
Sisters of Acheron, go hand in hand,
Go dance around the bower, and close them in;
And tell them that I sent you to salute them.
Profane the ground, and for the ambrosial rose,
And breath of jas'mine, let hemlock blacken,
And deadly nightshade poison all the air.
For the sweet nightingale may ravens croak,
Toads pant, and adders rustle through the leaves,
May serpents winding up the trees let fall
Their hissing necks upon them from above,
And mingle kisses-such as I should give them.
[exit.
SCENE II.-THE BOWER-LEONORA SLEEPING,
Aton. Ye amaranths! ye roses like the morn! Sweet myrtles, and ye golden orange groves! Why do you smile? why do you look so fair? Are ye not blasted as I enter in ?
Yes, see how every flower lets fall its head
How shudders every leaf without a wind
How every green is as the ivy pale!
Did ever midnight ghosts assemble here?
Have these sweet echoes ever learned to groan?
Joy-giving, love-inspiring, holy bower!
Know, in thy fragrant bosom thou receivest
A-murderer! oh, I shall stain thy lilies,
And horror will usurp the seat of bliss.
So Lucifer broke into paradise,
And soon damnation followed. [advances.] Ha! she sleeps
The day's uncommon heat has overcome her.
Then take, my longing eyes, your last full gaze.
Oh, what a sight is here! how dreadful fair!
Who would not think that being innocent?
Where shall I strike? who strikes her, strikes
himself,
My own life-blood will issue at her wound.
Oh, my distracted heart! oh, cruel heaven!
To give such charms as these, and then call man,
Mere man, to be your executioner.
Was it because it was too hard for you?
But see, she smiles! I never shall smile more.
It strongly tempts me to a parting kiss.
[going, starts back.
Ha! smile again. She dreams of him she loves.
Curse on her charms! I'll stab her through them all.
[as he is going to strike, she wakes.
Leon. My lord your stay was long, and yonder lull
Of falling waters tempted me to rest,
Dispirited with noon's excessive heat.
Alon. Ye powers! with what an eye she mends
the day!
My close long-laboured scheme at once is blasted.
That dagger, found, will cause her to inquire;
Inquiry will discover all; my hopes
Of vengeance perish; I myself am lost-
Curse on the coward's heart! wither his hand
Which held the steel in vain.-What can be done?
Where can I fix?—that's something still-'twill
breed
Fell rage and bitterness betwixt their souls,
Which may, perchance, grow up to greater evil;
If not, 'tis all I can-it shall be so- [aside.
Leon. Oh, Zanga, I am sinking in my fears!
Alonzo dropped this dagger as he left me,
While they were closed I should have given the And left me in a strange disorder too.
Oh, for a last embrace! and then for justice:
Thus heaven and I shall both be satisfied. [aside.
Leon. What says my lord?
Alon. Why this Alonzo says;
If love were endless, men were gods; 'tis that
Does counterbalance travel, danger, pain-
'Tis heaven's expedient to make mortals bear
The light, and cheat them of the peaceful grave.
Leon. Alas, my lord! why talk you of the grave?
Your friend is dead; in friendship you sustain
A mighty loss; repair it with my love.
Alon. Thy love, thou piece of witchcraft! I
What can this mean? angels preserve his life!
Zan. Yours, madam, yours.
Leon. What, Zanga, dost thou say?
Zan. Carry your goodness, then to such ex-
tremes,
So blinded to the faults of him you love,
That you perceive not he is jealous?
And yet a thousand things recur that swear it.
What villain could inspire him with that thought?
It is not of the growth of his own nature.
Zan. Some villain, who, hell knows; but he is
jealous,
And 'tis most fit a heart so pure as yours
Do itself justice and assert its honour,
And make him conscious of its stab of virtue.
Leon. Jealous! it sickens at my heart. Unkind,
Ungenerous, groundless weak, and insolent!
Thou brightest angel! I could gaze for ever.
Where hadst thou this, enchantress, tell me where,
Which with a touch works miracles, boils up
My blood to tumults, and turns round my brain?
E'en now thou swim'st before me, I shall lose thee-Why, wherefore, and what shadow of occasion?
No, I will make thee sure, and clasp thee all.
Who turned this slender waist with so much art,
And shut perfection in so small a ring?
Who spread that pure expanse of white above,
On which the dazzled sight can find no rest;
But, drunk with beauty, wanders up and down.
For ever, and for ever finds new charms!
But oh, those eyes! those murderers! oh, whence,
Whence didst thou steal their burning orbs from
heaven?
Thou did'st; and 'tis religion to adore them.
Leon. My best Alonzo, moderate your thoughts.
Extremes still fright me, though of love itself.
Alon. Extremes indeed! it hurried me away;
But I come home again-and now for justice-
And now for death-it is impossible-
Sure such were made by heaven guiltless to sin,
Or in their guilt to laugh at punishment.
I leave her to just heaven.
[drops the dagger, and goes off.
Leon. Ha, a dagger!
What dost thou say, thou minister of death?
What dreadful tale dost tell me? let me think-
Zan. Death to my towering hopes: oh, fall from high!
|
