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What did I part with, when I gave my heart 2
The maid, that loves,
Goes out to sea upon a shatter’d plank,
And puts her trust in miracles for safety. [Rises.
Where shall Isigh —where pour out my complaints?
He that should hear, should succour, should redress,
He is the source of all.
Alon. Go to thy chamber;
I soon will follow; that, which now disturbs thee,
Shall be cleared up, and thou shalt not condemn me.
[Exit LEoN.
O, how like innocence she looks l—What, stab her
And rush into her blood ——I never can
Mine is the guilt—mine—to supplant my friend.—
How then Why thus—no more; it is determined.

Enter ZANGA.

Zan. I fear his heart has fail’d him. She must (116. Can I not rouse the snake that’s in his bosom, To sting our human nature, and effect it 2 [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 fear'd : 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 Caesars; 'Tis to be great for ever; 'Tis pleasure, ’tis ambition then to die. Zan. I think, my lord, you talk’d of death. Alon. I did. Zan. I give you joy, then Leonora’s dead. Alon. No, Zanga, the greatest guilt is mine, Who might have mark'd his tameness to resign her Who might have mark’d her sudden turn of love:

These, and a thousand tokens more; and yetFor which the saints absolve my soul,—did wed! Zan. Whither tends this 2 Alon. To shed a woman’s blood Would stain my sword, and make my wars inglor1OuS; 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 take a flight at heaven. Zan. Alas, my lord, *Tis not your reason, but her beauty finds Those arguments, and throws you on your sword. You cannot close an eye, that is so bright, You cannot strike a breast, that is so soft, That has ten thousand ecstacies in store For Carlos—No, my lord, I mean for you. Alon. O, through my heart and marrow ! Pr'ythet spare me: Nor more upbraid the weakness of thy lord, I own, I tried, I quarreli’d with my heart, | And push’d it on, and bid it give her death; But, oh, her eyes struck first, and murder'd me. Zan. I know not what to answer to my lord. Men are but men. Farewell, then, my best lord, since you must die! Oh, that I were to share your monument, And in eternal darkness close these eyes, Against those scenes, which I am doom'd to suffer! Alon. What dost thou mean? Zan. And is it then unknown 2 Oh, grief of heart, to think that you should ask it! Sure you distrust that ardent love I bear you, Else could you doubt, when you are laid industBut it will cut my poor heart through and through To see those revel on your sacred tomb,

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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
know'st,
Is sheathed in steel, and bent on other thoughts.
Zan. Yes, till the fever of his blood returns,
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 languish, there pour out his soul;
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:
Thank Heaven, these torments will be all my own.
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 2 You know not womankind.
When once the throbbing of the heart has broke
The modest zone, with which it was first 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 cannot die; nor can you murder her.
What then remains? In nature no third way,
But to forget, and so to love again.
Alon. Oh
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 'twasset
UI
The Gor 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 call'd?
At Aulis, one pour’d out a daughter’s life,
And gain’d more glory than by all his wars;
Another slew a sister in just rage;
A third, the theme of all succeeding times,
Gave to the cruel axe a darling son.
Nay more, for justice some devote themselves,
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, unenjoy’d——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 honour’d,

And when with garlands the full bowl is crown'd,
And music gives the elevating sound,
And golden carpets spread the sacred floor,
And a new day the blazing tapers pour,
Thou, Zanga, thou my solemn friends invite,
From the dark realms of everlasting night;
Call Wengeance, call the Furies, call Despair,
And Death, our chief-invited guest, be there;
He, with pale hand, shall lead the bride, and spread
Eternal curtains round her nuptial bed, [Ertunt.

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ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE Is

Another Apartment in the Palace

Enter ZANGA and ALONZO.

Alon. Is Carlos murder'd.”
Zan. I obey'd your order.
Six ruffians overtook him on the road :
He fought as he was won’t, 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. O Zanga, Zanga
But I’ll not think:
It is a day of darkness,
Of contradictions, and of many deaths.
Where's Leonora then 2 Quick, answer me:
I’m deep in 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 were
Wont,
On any great surprise, but chiefly then,

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