The British drama

And turns this disappointment to account.
He more shall credit it, because unseen,
(If 'tis unseen) as thou anon may'st find.

Isa. That would indeed commend my Zanga's
skill.

Zan. This, Isabella, is Don Carlos' picture;
Take it, and so dispose of it, that, found,
It may raise up a witness of her love;
Under her pillow, in her cabinet,

Or elsewhere, as shall best promote our end.

Isa. I'll weigh it as its consequence requires,
Then do my utmost to deserve your smile. [Exit.
Zan. Is that Alonzo prostrate on the ground?
-Now he starts up, like flame from sleeping em-
bers,

And wild distraction glares from either eye!
If thus a slight surmise can work his soul,
How will the fulness of the tempest tear him?

Zan. Hold there, and we succeed. He has
descried me;

And (for he thinks I love him) will unfold
His aching heart, and rest it on my counsel.
I'll seem to go, to make my stay more sure.

Alon. Hold, Zanga, turn.

Zan. My lord!

Aton. Shut close the doors,

That not a spirit find an entrance here.
Zan. My lord's obeyed.

Alon. I see that thou art frighted.

If thou dost love me, I shall fill thy heart
With scorpions' stings.

Zan. If I do love, my

lord?

[Aside.

I know not where I am.
Alon. Think, think no more!

-yet I do,

It ne'er can enter in an honest heart.
I'll tell thee, then-I cannot-
By wanting force to give it utterance.
Zun. Speak, ease your heart; its throbs will
burst your bosom !

Alon. I am most happy: mine is victory,
Mine the king's favour, mine the nation's shout,
And great men make their fortunes of my smiles.
O curse of curses! in the lap of blessing
To be most curst !- -My Leonora's false !
Zan. Save me, my lord!

Alon. My Leonora's false !

[Gives him the letter. Zan. Then Heaven has lost its image here on earth.

[While Zanga reads the letter, he trembles, and shews the utmost concern. Alon. Good-natured man! he makes my pains his own!

I durst not read it; but I read it now
In thy concern!

Zan. Did you not read it then?

Alon. Mine eye just touched it, and could bear

no more.

Zan. Thus perish all that gives Alonzo pain!
[Tears the letter.
Alon. Why didst thou tear it?
Zan. Think of it no more.

"Twas your mistake; and groundless are your

fears.

Alon. And didst thou tremble, then, for my

mistake?

Or give the whole contents, or by the pangs
That feed upon my heart, thy life's in danger!

Lan. Is this Alonzo's language to his Zanga?
Draw forth your sword, and find the secret here.
For whose sake is it, think you, I conceal it?
Wherefore this rage? Because I seek your
peace?

I have no interest in suppressing it,

But what good-natured tenderness for you
Obliges me to have. Not mine the heart

Alon. Come near me, let me rest upon thy That will be rent in two.

bosom;

(What pillow like the bosom of a friend?)

For I am sick at heart.

Zan. Speak, sir, O speak,`

And take me from the rack!

Alon. And is there need

Of words? Behold a wonder! See my tears!
Zan. I feel them too. Heaven grant my senses
fail me!

I rather would lose them, than have this real.
Alon. Go, take a round through all things in
thy thought,

And find that one-for there is only one
Which could extort my tears-find that, and tell
Thyself my misery, and spare me the pain.

Zan. Sorrow can think but ill-I am bewil

dered;

That will be damned,
should know it.

Not mine the fame though all the world

They take offence, who have not been offended; | The eternal law of things declares it true,
They seek our ruin, too, who speak us fair,
And death is often ambushed in their smiles.
We know not whom we have to fear, 'Tis cer-
tain

A letter may be forged, and in a point
Of such a dreadful consequence as this,
One would rely on nought that might be false—
Think, have you any other cause to doubt her?
Away, you can find none. Resume your spirit;
All's well again.

Alon. O that it were!

Zan. It is;

For who would credit that, which, credited,
Makes hell superfluous by superior pains,
Without such proofs as cannot be withstood?
Has she not ever been to virtue trained?
Is not her fame as spotless as the sun,
Her sex's envy, and the boast of Spain?

Alon. O Zanga! it is that confounds me most, That full in opposition to appearance

Zan. No more, my lord, for you condemn yourself.

What is absurdity, but to believe

Against appearance!--You can't yet, I find,
Subdue your passion to your better sense;-
And, truth to tell, it does not much displease me.
'Tis fit your indiscretions should be checked
With some degree of pain.

Alon. What indiscretions?

Zan. Come, you must bear to hear your faults from me.

Had you not sent Don Carlos to the court
The night before the battle, that foul slave,
Who forged the senseless scroll which gives you
pain,

Had wanted footing for his villany.

Alon. I sent him not.

Which calls for judgment on distinguished guilt,
And loves to make our crime our punishment.
Love is my torture, love was first my crime;
For she was his, my friend's, and he (O horror!)
Confided all in me. O, sacred faith!
How dearly I abide thy violation!

Zan. Were, then, their loves far gone?

Alon. The father's will

There bore a total sway; and he, as soon
As news arrived that Carlos' fleet was seen
From off our coast, fired with the love of gold,
Determined, that the very sun which saw
Carlos' return, should see his daughter wed.
Zan. Indeed, my lord, then you must pardon

me,

If I presume to mitigate the crime.
Consider, strong allurements soften guilt;
Long was his absence, ardent was his love,
At midnight his return, the next day destined
For his espousals-'twas a strong temptation.
Alon. Temptation!

Zan. 'Twas but gaining of one night.
Alon. One night!

Zan. That crime could ne'er return again. Alon. Again! By Heaven thou dost insult thy lord.

Temptation! One night gained! O stings and death!

And am I then undone! Alas, my Zanga!
And dost thou own it too? Deny it still,
And rescue me one moment from distraction.
Zan. My lord, I hope the best.
Alon. False, foolish hope,

And insolent to me! Thou know'st it false;
It is as glaring as the noon-tide sun.
Devil! This morning, after three years coldness,
To rush at once into a passion for me!
'Twas time to feign, 'twas time to get another,
When her first fool was sated with her beauties.
Zan. What says my lord? Did Leonora then
Never disclose her passion for you?
Alon. Never.

Zan. Throughout the whole three years?
Alon. O never! never!

Why, Zanga, shouldst thou strive? 'Tis all in vain:

Though thy soul labours, it can find no reed
For hope to catch at. Ah! I am plunging down
Ten thousand fathoms in despair.

Zan. Hold, sir, I'll break your fall-wave every fear,

And be a man again-Had he enjoyed her,
Be most assured, he had resigned her to you
With less reluctance.

Alon. Ha! Resign ber to me!

Resign her!-Who resigned her?-Double death!
How could I doubt so long? My heart is broke.
First love her to distraction! then resign her!
Zan. But was it not with utmost agony?
Alon. Grant that, he still resigned her; that's
enough.

Would he pluck out his eye to give it me?
Tear out his heart?-She was his heart no more-
Nor was it with reluctance he resigned her!
By Heaven, he asked, he courted me to wed.
I thought it strange; 'tis now no longer so.
Zan. Was it his request? Are you right sure

of that?

I fear the letter was not all a tale.

Alon. A tale! There's proof equivalent to sight.

Zan. I should distrust my sight on this occasion.

Alon. And so should I; by Heaven, I think I
should.

What! Leonora, the divine, by whom
We guessed at angels! Oh! I'm all confusion.

Zan. You now are too much ruffled to think
clearly.

Thrives underneath my hand in misery.
He's gone to think; that is, to be distracted.
Isa. I overheard your conference, and saw you,
To my amazement, tear the letter.
Zan. There,

There, Isabella, I out-did myself.
For tearing it, I not secure it only
In its first force; but superadd a new.
For who can now the character examine,
To cause a doubt, much less detect the fraud?
And after tearing it, as loth to shew
The foul contents, if I should swear it now
A forgery, my lord would disbelieve me;
Nay, more, would disbelieve the more I swore.
But is the picture happily disposed of?
Isa. It is.

Zan. That's well-Ah! what is well? O pang
to think!

Since bliss and horror, life and death hang on it, O dire necessity! is this my province?
Go to your chamber, there maturely weigh
Each circumstance; consider, above all,
That it is jealousy's peculiar nature

To swell small things to great; nay, out of nought
To conjure much, and then to lose its reason
Amid the hideous phantoms it has formed.

Alon. Had I ten thousand lives, I'd give them
all

To be deceived. I fear 'tis doomsday with me.
And yet she seemed so pure, that I thought Hea-

Whither, my soul! ah! whither art thou sunk
Beneath thy sphere? Ere while, far, far above
Such little arts, dissembling, falsehoods, frauds,
The trash of villany itself, which falls
To cowards, and poor wretches wanting bread.
Does this become a soldier? This become
Whom armies followed, and a people loved?
My martial glory withers at the thought.
But great my end; and since there are no other,
These means are just; they shine with borrowed
light,

Illustrious from the purpose they pursue.
And greater sure my merit, who, to gain
A point sublime, can such a task sustain;
To wade through ways obscene, my honour bend,
And shock my nature, to attain my end.

Zan. Thus far it works auspiciously. My pa- Late time shall wonder; that my joys will raise; tient

For wonder is involuntary praise. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter Don ALONZO and ZANGA.

Alon. Oн, what a pain to think! when every
thought,

Perplexing thought, in intricacies runs,
And reason knits the inextricable toil,
In which herself is taken! I am lost,
Poor insect that I am; I am involved,
And buried in the web myself have wrought!
One argument is balanced by another,
And reason reason meets in doubtful fight,
And proofs are countermined by equal proofs.
No more I'll bear this battle of the mind,
This inward anarchy; but find my wife,
And to her trembling heart presenting death,
Force all the secret from her.

Zan. O, forbear!

You totter on the very brink of ruin.
Alon. What dost thou mean?
Zan. That will discover all,

VOL. I.

And kill my hopes. What can I think or do?

[Aside.

Alon. What dost thou murmur?
Zan. Force the secret from her!
What's perjury to such a crime as this?
Will she confess it then? O, groundless hope!
But rest assured, she'll make this accusation,
Or false or true, your ruin with the king;
Such is her father's power.

Alon. No more, I care not;

Rather than groan beneath this load, I'll die.

Zan. But for what better will you change this load?

Grant you should know it, would not that be worse?

Alon. No; it would cure me of my mortal

pangs:

By hatred and contempt I should despise her,
And all my love-bred agonies would vanish.
Zan. Ah! were I sure of that, my lord-
Alon. What then?

3 F

Zan. You should not hazard life to gain the

secret.

Alon. What dost thou mean? Thou know'st I'm on the rack.

I'll not be played with; speak, if thou hast aught, Or I this instant fly to Leonora.

Zan. That is, to death. My lord, I am not yet
Quite so far gone in guilt to suffer it,
Though gone too far, Heaven knows-Tis I am
guilty-

I have took pains, as you, I know, observed,
To hinder you from diving in the secret,
And turned aside your thoughts from the detec-
tion.

Alon. Thou dost confound me!
Zan. I confound myself,

And frankly own it, though to my shame I own it;

Nought but your life in danger could have torn
The secret out, and made me own my crine.
Alon. Speak quickly; Zanga, speak.
Zan. Not yet, dread sir:

First, I must be assured, that if you find
The fair one guilty, scorn, as you assured me,
Shall conquer love and rage, and heal your soul.
Alon. Oh! 'twill, by Heaven!
Zan. Alas! I fear it much,

And scarce can hope so far; but I of this
Exact your solemn oath, that you'll abstain
From all self-violence, and save my lord.
Alon, I trebly swear.

Zan. You'll bear it like a man?
Alon. A god.

Zan. Such have you been to me; these tears confess it,

And poured forth miracles of kindness on me :
And what amends is now within my power,
But to confess, expose myself to justice,
And, as a blessing, claim my punishment?
Know, then, Don Carlos-

Leon. How good in you, my lord, whom nations' cares

Solicit, and a world in arms obeys,
To drop one thought on me!

[He shews the utmost impatience. Alon. Dost thou then prize it? Leon. Do you then ask it?

Alon. Know then, to thy comfort, Thou hast me all, my throbbing heart is full With thee alone; I have thought of nothing else; Nor shall, I from my soul believe, till death. My life, our friends expect thee.

Leon. I obey.

[Erit.

Alon. Is that the face of cursed hypocrisy ? If she is guilty, stars are made of darkness, And beauty shall no more belong to HeavenDon Carlos did return at dead of nightProceed, good Zanga; so thy tale began.

Zan. Don Carlos did return at dead of night; That night, by chance (ill chance for me) did I Command the watch that guards the palace gate. He told me he had letters for the king, Dispatched from you.

Alon. The villain lied! Zan. My lord,

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 enquired, 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 an 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 ecstacy!
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; bis knees smite one another: 'Tis through his brain; his eye-balls roll in anguish. [Aside. My lord, my lord, why do ye 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 am your own Zanga, So loved, so cherished, and so faithful to you.Why start you in such fury? Nay, my lord,

Upon your brow. Aught hear you from the For Heaven's sake sheath your sword! What

Moors?

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?
Rise, sir, for honour's sake. Why should the
Moors,

Why should the vanquished triumph?

Alon. Would to Heaven

That I were lower still! Oh, she was all!—
My fame, my friendship, and my love of arms,
All stoop 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 would bear it like a man.
Alon. I do.

Am I not most distracted?

Zan. Pray, be calm.

Alas my head turns round, and my limbs fail me!

Zan. My lord'

Alon. Oh, villain, villain, most accurst !
If thou didst know it, why didst 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

out,

(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 thy dagger with thee.
[Exit Zanga.

Alon. As hurricanes: be thou assured of that. 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.

Leon. My lord, excuse me; see, a second time
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 canst well inspire my friends with joy,
Leon. Why sighs my
lord?

Alon. I sighed not, Leonora.

Leon. I thought you did; your sighs are mine, my lord,

And I shall 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,

« Eelmine Jätka »

Books

The British drama, 1. köide