Zan. I obeyed your order.

Six ruthans 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 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 was

wont,

On any great surprise, but chiefly then
When cause of sorrow bore it company,
To have your passions 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 doubt-
ed;

But such the honest artifice I used,

And such her ardent wish it should be true,
That she, at length, was fully satisfied.

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
Amurderer! Oh, I shall stain thy lilies,
And horror will usurp the seat of bliss.
So Lucifer broke into paradise,

And soon damnation followed. [He 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.
Ob, 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, he starts back. Ha! smile again. She dreams of him she loves. Alon. Twas well she was. In our late inter- Curse on her charms! I'll stab her through them

view,

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 jasmine 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.

[Exit.

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 th' ambrosial rose,
And breath of jasmine, 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 could give them.
[Exit.

SCENE II.-The bower.

LEONORA sleeping. Enter ALONZO.
Alon. Ye amaranths! ye roses, like the morn!

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!

While they were closed, I should have given the
blow.
[Aside.

Oh, for a last embrace! and then for justice:
Thus, Heaven and I shall both be satisfied.
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
would say,

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?
Even now thou swim'st before me. I shall lose

thee

No, I will make thee sure, and clasp thee all.
Who turned this slender waist with so much art,

Away with it, and let us talk of love,

Plunge ourselves deep into the sweet illusion,
And hide us there from every other thought.
Leon. It touches you.

Alon. Let's talk of love.

Leon. Of death!

Alon. As thou lov'st happiness-
Leon. Of murder!

Alon. Rash,

Rash woman! yet forbear.

Leon. Approve my wrongs!

Alon. Then must I fly, for thy sake and my

own.

Leon. Nay, by my injuries, you first must

hear me :

Stab me, then think it much to hear my groan!

Alon. Heaven strike me deaf!

Leon. It well may sting you home.

Your passion's wise; 'tis a disguise for guilt:
'Tis my turn now to fix you here awhile;

You and your thousand arts shall not escape me.
Leon. Arts!

Alon. Arts. Confess; for death is in my hand.
Leon. 'Tis in your words.

Alon. Confess, confess, confess!

Nor tear my veins with passion to compel thee. Leon. I scorn to answer thee, presumptuous man!

Alon. Deny, then, and incur a fouler shame.

Alon. Alas, thou quite mistak'st my cause of Where did I find this picture? pain!

Yet, yet dismiss me; I am all in flames.

Leon. Who has most cause, you or myself?
What act

Of my whole life encouraged you to this?
Or of your own, what guilt has drawn it on you?
You find me kind, and think me kind to all;
The weak, ungenerous error of your sex.
What could inspire the thought? We oftenest
judge

Fom our own hearts; and is yours then so
frail,

It prompts you to conceive thus ill of me?
He that can stoop to harbour such a thought,
Deserves to find it true.

[Holding him.
Alon. Oh, sex, sex, sex! [Turning on her.
The language of you all. Ill-fated woman!
Why hast thou forced me back into the gulf
Of agonies I had blocked up from thought?
I know the cause; thou saw'st me impotent
Ere while to hurt thee, therefore thou turn'st on

Leon. Ha, Don Carlos!

By my best hopes, more welcome than thy own.
Alon. I know it; but is vice so very rank,
That thou shouldst dare to dash it in my face?
Nature is sick of thee, abandoned woman!
Leon. Repent.

Alon. Is that for me?

Leon. Fall, ask my pardon.

Alon. Astonishment!

Leon. Dar'st thou persist to think I am dishonest?

Alon. I know thee so.

Leon. This blow, then, to thy heart——

[She stabs herself, he endeavours to pre

vent her.

Alon. Hoa, Zanga! Isabella! hoa! she bleeds! Descend, ye blessed angels, to assist her!

Leon. This is the only way I would wound

thee,

Though most injust. Now think me guilty still.

Enter ISABElla.

Alon. Bear her to instant help! The world to save her!

Leon. Unhappy man! well mayst thou gaze
and tremble:

But fix thy terror and amazement right;
Not on my blood, but on thy own distraction.
What hast thou done! Whom censured?-Leo-

nora!

When thou hast censured, thou wouldst save her
life;

Oh, inconsistent! Should I live in shame,
Or stoop to any other means but this
To assert my virtue? No; she who disputes
Admits it possible she might be guilty.
While aught but truth could be my inducement
to it,

Cæsars have wept; and I have had my blow :
Bnt 'tis revenged, and now my work is done.
Yet ere I fall, be it one part of vengeance
To make thee to confess that I am just.-
Thou see'st a prince, whose father thou hast
slain;

Whose native country thou hast laid in blood;
Whose sacred person (Oh!) thou hast profa-
ned,

Whose reign extinguished. What was left to me,
So highly born? No kingdom, but revenge!
No treasure, but thy tortures and thy groans.
If men should ask who brought thee to thy end,
Tell them, the Moor, and they will not despise
thee.

If cold white mortals censure this great deed,
Warn them, they judge not of superior beings,
Souls made of fire, and children of the sun,
With whom revenge is virtue. Fare thee well-
Now, fully satisfied, I should take leave:
But one thing grieves me, since thy death is near,
I leave thee my example how to die.

As he is going to stab himself, Alonzo rushes
upon him to prevent him. In the mean time,
enter Don ALVAREZ, attended. They disarm
and seize Zanga. Alonzo puts the dagger in

his bosom.

Alon. No, monster, thou shalt not escape by death.

Oh, father!

Alv. Oh, Alonzo !-Isabella,

Zan. This too is well. The fixed and noble
mind

Turns all occurrents to its own advantage;
And I'll make vengeance of calamity.
Were I not thus reduced, thou wouldst not know,
That, thus reduced, I dare defy thee still.
Torture thou may'st, but thou shalt ne'er despise

me.

The blood will follow where the knife is driven,
The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear,
And sighs and cries by nature grow on pain.
But these are foreign to the soul: not mine
The groans that issue, or the tears that fall;
They disobey me; on the rack I scorn thee,
As when my faulchion clove thy helm in battle.
Alv. Peace, villain!

Zan. While I live, old man, I'll speak:
And well I know thou dar'st not kill me yet;
For that would rob thy blood-hounds of their

is yours,

The wheel's prepared, and you shall have it all.
Let me but look one moment on the dead,
And pay yourselves with gazing on my pangs.
Is this Alonzo? Where's the haughty mein ?
[He goes to Alonzo's body.
Is that the hand which smote me? Heavens, how
pale!

And art thou dead? So is my enmity.

I war not with the dust. The great, the proud,
The conqueror of Afric was my foe.
A lion preys not upon carcases.
This was thy only method to subdue me.
Terror and doubt fall on me: all thy good

Touched with remorse to see her mistress' pangs, Now blazes, all thy guilt is in the grave.
Told all the dreadful tale.

Alon. What groan was that?

Zan. As I have been a vulture to thy heart,

So will I be a raven to thine ear,

As true as ever snuffed the scent of blood,
As ever flapped its heavy wing against
The window of the sick, and croaked despair.
Thy wife is dead.

[Alvarez goes to the side of the stage, and

returns.

Alv. The dreadful news is true.
Alon. Prepare the rack; invent new torments
for him,

Never had man such funeral applause :
If I lament thee, sure thy worth was great.
Oh, vengeance, I have followed thee too far,
And, to receive me, hell blows all her fires!
[He is borne off.

Alv. Dreadful effects of jealousy! a rage
In which the wise with caution will engage;
Reluctant long, and tardy to believe,
Where, swayed by nature, we ourselves deceive,
Where our own folly joins the villain's art,
And each man finds a Zanga in his heart.

[Exeunt omnes.