Chapter 16

_Enter_ Queen _and_ Elvira.

_Qu. Elvira_, hast thou drest my Lodgings up, Fit to receive my Moor? Are they all gay, as Altars, when some Monarch Is there to offer up rich Sacrifices? Hast thou strew’d all the Floor his Feet must press, With the soft new-born Beauties of the Spring?

_Elv_. Madam, I’ve done as you commanded me.

_Qu_. Let all the Chambers too be fill’d with Lights; There’s a Solemnity methinks in Night, That does insinuate Love into the Soul, And make the bashful Lover more assur’d.

_Elv_. Madam, You speak as if this were your first Enjoyment.

_Qu_. My first! Oh _Elvira_, his Power, like his Charms, His Wit, or Bravery, every hour renews; Love gathers Sweets like Flow’rs, which grow more fragrant, The nearer they approach Maturity. [_Knock_. --Hark! ‘tis my Moor,--give him admittance strait, The Thought comes o’er me like a gentle Gale, Raising my Blood into a thousand Curls.

_Elv_. Madam, it is a Priest--

_Qu_. A Priest! Oh, send him quickly hence; I wou’d not have so cold and dull an Object, Meet with my nobler Sense, ‘tis mortifying.

_Elv_. Perhaps ‘tis some Petition from the Cardinal.

_Qu_. Why, what have I to do with Priest or Cardinal? Let him not enter--

[Elv. _goes out, and returns with_ Roderigo _drest like a Fryar_.

_Elv_. From _Abdelazer_, Madam.

_Qu_. H’as named a Word will make all Places free.

_Rod_. Madam, be pleas’d to send your Woman hence, I’ve something to deliver from the Moor, Which you alone must be acquainted with.

_Qu_. Well, your Formality shall be allowed--retire-- [_To_ Elv. _Exit_ Elv. What have you to deliver to me now?

_Rod_. This--

[_Shews a Dagger, and takes her roughly by the Hands_.

_Qu_. Hah!--

_Rod_. You must not call for help, unless to Heaven.

_Qu_. What daring thing art thou?

_Rod_. One that has now no time to answer thee.

[_Stabs her, she struggles, her Arm bleeds_.

_Qu_. Oh, hold thy killing Hand! I am thy Queen.

_Rod_. Thou may’st be Devil too, for ought I know; I’ll try thy Substance thus-- [_Stabs again_.

_Qu_. Oh, _Abdelazer_!-- Thou hast well reveng’d me--on my Sins of Love;-- [_He seats her in the Chair_. But shall I die thus tamely unrcveng’d? --Help--murder--help-- [_He offers to stab again_.

_Enter_ Elvira, _and other Women_.

_Elv_. Oh Heavens! the Queen is murder’d--help the Queen!

[Rod. _offers to stab_ Elv.

_Enter_ Abdelazer.

_Abd_. Hah! the Queen! what sacrilegious Hand, Or Heart so brutal-- Durst thus profane the Shrine ador’d by me? Guard well the Passages.--

_Qu_. Thou art that sacrilegious--brutal thing!-- And false as are the Deities thou worship’st.

_Abd_. Gods! let me not understand that killing Language? --Inform me quickly, how you came thus wounded, Lest looking on that sacred Stream of Blood, I die e’er I’ve reveng’d you on your Murderer.

_Qu_. Haste then, and kill thy self; thou art my Murderer. Nor had his Hand, if not by thee instructed, Aim’d at a Sin so dangerous--

_Abd_. Surely she’ll live--[_Aside_.]--This!-- Can Mischief dwell beneath this reverend Shape? Confess who taught thee so much Cruelty. Confess, or I will kill thee.

_Rod_. The Cardinal.

_Qu_. The Cardinal!

_Abd_. Oh impious Traitor! How came I mention’d then?

_Rod_. To get Admittance.

_Abd_. But why do I delay thy Punishment? Die,--and be damn’d together. [_Aside.] [Stabs him_. But oh, my Queen!--_Elvira_, call for help. Have I remov’d all that oppos’d our Flame, [_Kneels_. To have it thus blown out, thus in a Minute? When I, all full of youthful Fire, all Love, Had rais’d my Soul with Hopes of near Delights, To meet thee cold, and pale; to find those Eyes, Those charming Eyes thus dying--Oh ye Powers! Take all the Prospect of my future Joys, And turn it to Despair, since thou art gone.

_Qu_. Cease,--cease--your kind Complaints--my struggling Soul, ’.wixt Death--and Love--holds an uneasy Contest; This will not let it stay--nor that depart;-- And whilst I hear thy Voice--thus breathing Love, It hovers still--about--the grateful--Sound. My Eyes--have took--an everlasting Leave-- Of all that blest their Sight; and now a gloomy Darkness Benights the wishing Sense,--that vainly strives-- To take another View;--but ‘tis too late,-- And Life--and Love--must yield--to Death--and-- Fate. [_Dies_.

_Abd_. Farewell, my greatest Plague, [_He rises with Joy_. Thou wert a most impolitick loving thing; And having done my Bus’ness which thou wert born for, ’.was time thou shouldst retire, And leave me free to love, and reign alone.

_Enter_ Leonora, Alonzo, Ordonio, _and other Men and Women_.

Come all the World, and pay your Sorrows here, Since all the World has Interest in this Loss.

_Alon_. The Moor in Tears! nay, then the Sin was his.

_Leon_. The Queen my Mother dead! How many Sorrows will my Heart let in, E’er it will break in pieces. [_Weeps over her_.

_Alon_. I know the Source of all this Villany, And need not ask you how the Queen came murder’d.

_Elv_. My Lord, that Fryer, from the Cardinal, did it.

_Alon_. The Cardinal! ’.is possible,--for the Injuries she did him Cou’d be repaid with nothing less than Death. [Aside. My Fair, your Griefs have been so just of late, I dare not beg that you would weep no more; Though every Tear those lovely Eyes let fall, Give me a killing Wound--Remove the Body.

[_Guards remove the Body. Ex. all but_ Alon. _and_ Leon.

Such Objects suit not Souls so soft as thine.

_Leon_. With Horrors I am grown of late familiar; I saw my Father die, and liv’d the while; I saw my beauteous Friend, and thy lov’d Sister, _Florella_, whilst her Breast was bleeding fresh; Nay, and my Brother’s too, all full of Wounds, The best and kindest Brother that ever Maid was blest with; Poor _Philip_ bound, and led like Victims for a Sacrifice; All this I saw and liv’d-- And canst thou hope for Pity from that Heart, Whose harden’d Sense is Proof ‘gainst all these Miseries? This Moor, _Alonzo_, is a subtle Villain, Yet of such Power we scarce dare think him such.

_Alon_. ‘Tis true, my charming Fair, he is that Villain, As ill and powerful too; yet he has a Heart That may be reach’d with this--but ‘tis not time, [_Points to his Sword_. We must dissemble yet, which is an Art Too foul for Souls so innocent as thine. _Enter_ Abdelazer. The Moor! Hell! will he not allow us sorrowing time?

_Abd_. Madam, I come to pay my humblest Duty, And know what Service you command your Slave.

_Leon_. Alas, I’ve no Commands; or if I had, I am too wretched now to be obey’d.

_Abd_. Can one so fair, and great, ask any thing Of Men, or Heaven, they wou’d not grant with Joy?

_Leon_. Hea’vns Will I’m not permitted to dispute, And may implore in vain; but ‘tis in you To grant me what may yet preserve my Life.

_Abd_. In me! in me! the humblest of your Creatures! By yon bright Sun, or your more splendid Eyes, I wou’d divest my self of every Hope, To gratify one single Wish of yours. --Name but the way.

_Leon_. I am so unhappy, that the only thing I have to ask, is what you must deny; --The Liberty of _Philip_--

_Abd_. How! _Philip’s_ Liberty--and must I grant it? I (in whose Hands Fortune had put the Crown) Had I not lov’d the Good and Peace of _Spain_, Might have dispos’d it to my own Advantage; And shall that Peace, Which I’ve preferr’d above my proper Glories, Be lost again in him, in him a Bastard?

_Alon_. That he’s a Bastard, is not, Sir, believ’d; And she that cou’d love you, might after that Do any other Sin, and ‘twas the least Of all the Number to declare him Bastard.

_Abd_. How, Sir! that you’d love me! what is there here, Or in my Soul, or Person, may not be belov’d?

_Alon_. I spoke without Reflection on your Person, But of dishonest Love, which was too plain, From whence came all the Ills we have endur’d; And now being warm in Mischiefs, Thou dost pursue the Game, till all be thine.

_Abd_. Mine!

_Alon_. Yes, thine-- The little humble Mask which you put on Upon the Face of Falshood, and Ambition, Is easily seen thro; you gave a Crown, But you’ll command the Kingly Power still, Arm and disband, destroy or save at Pleasure.

_Abd_. Vain Boy, (whose highest Fame, Is that thou art the great _Alvaro’s_ Son) Where learnt you so much daring, to upbraid My generous Power thus falsly--do you know me?

_Alon_. Yes, Prince, and ‘tis that Knowledge makes me dare; I know thy Fame in Arms; I know in Battels Thou hast perform’d Deeds much above thy Years: My Infant Courage too (By the same Master taught) grew up to thine, When thou in Rage out-didst me, not in Bravery. --I know thou’st greater Power too--thank thy Treachery!

_Abd_. Dost thou not fear that Power?

_Alon_. By Heaven, not I, Whilst I can this--command. [_Lays his Hand on his Sword_.

_Abd_. I too command a Sword. [Abd. _lays his Hand on his, and comes close up to him_. But not to draw on thee, _Alonzo_; Since I can prove thy Accusation false By ways more grateful--take this Ring, _Alonzo_; The sight of it will break down Prison-Gates, And set all free, as was the first-born Man.

_Alon_. What means this turn?

_Abd_. To enlarge _Philip_; but on such Conditions, As you think fit to make for my Security: And as thou’rt brave, deal with me as I merit.

_Alon_. Art thou in earnest?

_Abd_. I am, by all that’s sacred.

_Leon_. Oh, let me fall before you, and ne’er rise, Till I have made you know what Gratitude Is fit for such a Bounty!-- Haste, my _Alonzo_--haste--and treat with _Philip_; Nor do I wish his Freedom, but on such Terms As may be advantageous to the Moor.

_Alon_. Nor I, by Heaven! I know the Prince’s Soul, Though it be fierce, has Gratitude and Honour; And for a Deed like this, will make returns, Such as are worthy of the brave Obliger. [_Exit_ Alon.

_Abd_. Yes, if he be not gone to Heaven before you come. [_Aside_. --What will become of _Abdelazer_ now, Who with his Power has thrown away his Liberty?

_Leon_. Your Liberty! Oh, Heaven forbid that you, Who can so generously give Liberty, Should be depriv’d of it! It must not be whilst _Leonora_ lives.

_Abd_. ‘Tis she that takes it from me.

_Leon_. I! Alas, I wou’d not for the World Give you one minute’s Pain.

_Abd_. You cannot help it, ‘tis against your Will; Your Eyes insensibly do wound and kill.

_Leon_. What can you mean? and yet I fear to know.

_Abd_. Most charming of your Sex! had Nature made This clouded Face, like to my Heart, all Love, It might have spar’d that Language which you dread; Whose rough harsh sound, unfit for tender Ears, Will ill express the Business of my Life.

_Leon_. Forbear it, if that Business, Sir, be Love.

_Abd_. Gods! Because I want the art to tell my Story In that soft way, which those can do whose Business Is to be still so idly employ’d, I must be silent and endure my Pain, Which Heaven ne’er gave me so much lameness for. Love in my Soul is not that gentle thing It is in other Breasts; instead of Calms, It ruffles mine into uneasy Storms. --I wou’d not love, if I cou’d help it, Madam; But since ‘tis not to be resisted here-- You must permit it to approach your Ear.

_Leon_. Not when I cannot hear it, Sir, with Honour.

_Abd_. With Honour! Nay, I can talk in the Defence of that: By all that’s sacred, ‘tis a Flame as virtuous, As every Thought inhabits your fair Soul, And it shall learn to be as gentle too; --For I must merit you--

_Leon_. I will not hear this Language; merit me!

_Abd_. Yes--why not? You’re but the Daughter of the King of _Spain_, And I am Heir to great Abdela, Madam; I can command this Kingdom you possess, (Of which my Passion only made you Queen) And re-assume that which your Father took From mine--a Crown as bright as that of _Spain_.

_Leon_. You said you wou’d be gentle--

_Abd_. I will; this sullen Heart shall learn to bow, And keep it self within the Bounds of Love; Its Language I’ll deliver out in Sighs, Soft as the Whispers of a yielding Virgin. I cou’d transform my Soul to any Shape; Nay, I could even teach my Eyes the Art To change their natural Fierceness into Smiles; --What is’t I wou’d not do to gain that Heart!

_Leon_. Which never can be yours! that and my Vows, Are to _Alonzo_ given; which he lays claim to By the most sacred Ties, Love and Obedience; All _Spain_ esteems him worthy of that Love.

_Abd_. More worthy it than I! it was a Woman, A nice, vain, peevish Creature that pronounc’d it; Had it been Man, ‘t had been his last Transgression. --His Birth! his glorious Actions! are they like mine?

_Leon_. Perhaps his Birth wants those Advantages, Which Nature has laid out in Beauty on his Person.

_Abd_. Ay! there’s your Cause of Hate! Curst be my Birth, And curst be Nature that has dy’d my Skin With this ungrateful Colour! cou’d not the Gods Have given me equal Beauty with _Alonzo_! --Yet as I am, I’ve been in vain ador’d, And Beauties great as thine have languish’d for me. The Lights put out, thou in thy naked Arms Will find me soft and smooth as polish’d Ebony; And all my Kisses on thy balmy Lips as sweet, As are the Breezes, breath’d amidst the Groves Of ripening Spices in the height of Day: As vigorous too, As if each Night were the first happy Moment I laid thy panting Body to my Bosom. Oh, that transporting Thought-- See--I can bend as low, and sigh as often, [Kneels. And sue for Blessings only you can grant; As any fair and soft _Alonzo_ can-- If you could pity me as well-- But you are deaf, and in your Eyes I read [_Rises with Anger_. A Scorn which animates my Love and Anger; Nor know I which I should dismiss or cherish.

_Leon_. The last is much more welcome than the first; Your Anger can but kill; but, Sir, your Love-- Will make me ever wretched, since ‘tis impossible I ever can return it.

_Abd_. Why, kill me then! you must do one or t’other. [_Kneels_. For thus--I cannot live--why dost thou weep? Thy every Tear’s enough to drown my Soul! How tame Love renders every feeble Sense! [_Rises_. --Gods! I shall turn Woman, and my Eyes inform me The Transformation’s near--Death! I’ll not endure it, I’ll fly before sh’as quite undone my Soul-- [_Offers to go_. But ‘tis not in my Power--she holds it fast-- And I can now command no single part-- [Returns. Tell me, bright Maid, if I were amiable, And you were uningag’d, could you then love me?

_Leon_. No! I could die first.

_Abd_. Hah!--awake, my Soul, from out this drousy Fit, And with thy wonted Bravery scorn thy Fetters. By Heaven, ‘tis gone! and I am now my self. Be gone, my dull Submission! my lazy Flame Grows sensible, and knows for what ‘twas kindled. Coy Mistress, you must yield, and quickly too: Were you devout as Vestals, pure as their Fire, Yet I wou’d wanton in the rifled Spoils Of all that sacred Innocence and Beauty. --Oh, my Desire’s grown high! Raging as midnight Flames let loose in Cities, And, like that too, will ruin where it lights. Come, this Apartment was design’d for Pleasure, And made thus silent, and thus gay for me; There I’ll convince that Error, that vainly made thee think I was not meant for Love.

_Leon_. Am I betray’d? are all my Women gone? And have I nought but Heaven for my Defence?

_Abd_. None else, and that’s too distant to befriend you.

_Leon_. Oh, take my Life, and spare my dearer Honour! --Help, help, ye Powers that favour Innocence. [_Enter Women_. _Just as the Moor is going to force in_ Leonora, _enters to him_ Osmin _in haste_.

_Osm_. My Lord, _Alonzo_--

_Abd_. What of him, you Slave--is he not secur’d? Speak, dull Intruder, that know’st not times and seasons, Or get thee hence.

_Osm_. Not till I’ve done the Business which I came for.

_Abd_. Slave!--that thou cam’st for. [_Stabs him in the Arm_.

_Osm_. No, ‘twas to tell you, that _Alonzo_, Finding himself betray’d, made brave resistance; Some of your Slaves h’as killed, and some h’as wounded.

_Abd_. ‘Tis time he were secured; I must assist my Guards, or all is lost. [_Exit_.

_Leon_. Sure, _Osmin_, from the Gods thou cam’st, To hinder my undoing; and if thou dy’st, Heaven will almost forgive thy other Sins For this one pious Deed.-- But yet I hope thy Wound’s not mortal.

_Osm_. ‘Tis only in my Arm--and, Madam, for this pity, I’ll live to do you Service.

_Leon_. What Service can the Favourite of the Moor, Train’d up in Blood and Mischiefs, render me?

_Osm_. Why, Madam, I command the Guard of Moors, Who will all die, when e’er I give the Word. Madam, ‘twas I caus’d _Philip_ and the Cardinal To fly to th’ Camp, And gave ‘em warning of approaching Death.

_Leon_. Heaven bless thee for thy Goodness.

_Osm_. I am weary now of being a Tyrant’s Slave, And bearing Blows too; the rest I could have suffer’d. Madam, I’ll free the Prince. But see, the Moor returns.

_Leon_. That Monster’s Presence I must fly, as from a killing Plague.

[_Ex. with her Women_. _Enter_ Abdelazer _with_ Zarrack, _and a Train of Moors_.

_Abd_. It is prodigious, that a single Man Should with such Bravery defend his Life Amongst so many Swords;--but he is safe. _Osmin_, I am not us’d to sue for Pardon, And when I do, you ought to grant it me.

_Osm_. I did not merit, Sir, so harsh a Usage.

_Abd_. No more; I’m asham’d to be upbraided, And will repair the Injury I did thee.

_Osm_. Acknowledgment from you is pay sufficient.

_Abd_. Yet, _Osmin_, I shou’d chide your Negligence, Since by it _Philip_ lives still, and the Cardinal.

_Osm_. I had design’d it, Sir, this Evening’s Sacrifice.

_Abd_. _Zarrack_ shall now perform it--and instantly: _Alonzo_ too must bear ‘em company.

_Zar_. I’ll shew my Duty in my haste, my Lord. [_Ex_. Zar.

_Osm_. Death! I’m undone; I’ll after him, and kill him. [_Offers to go_.

_Abd. Osmin_, I’ve business with you.--

[Osm. _comes back bowing. As they are going off, enter_ Leonora, Ordonio, _other Lords, and Women_.

_Leon_. Oh Prince! for Pity hear and grant my Suit. [_Kneels_.

_Abd_. When so much Beauty’s prostrate at my Feet, What is’t I can deny?--rise, thou brightest Virgin That ever Nature made; Rise, and command my Life, my Soul, my Honour.

_Leon_. No, let me hang for ever on your Knees, Unless you’ll grant _Alonzo_ Liberty.

_Abd_. Rise, I will grant it; though _Alonzo_, Madam, Betray’d that Trust I had repos’d in him.

_Leon_. I know there’s some Mistake; let me negotiate Between my Brother and the Gallant Moor. I cannot force your Guards, There is no Danger in a Woman’s Arm.

_Abd_. In your bright Eyes there is, that may corrupt ‘em more Than all the Treasures of the Eastern Kings. Yet, Madam, here I do resign my Power; Act as you please, dismiss _Alonzo’s_ Chains. And since you are so generous, to despise This Crown, which I have given you, _Philip_ shall owe his Greatness to your Bounty, And whilst he makes me safe, shall rule in Spain. --_Osmin_-- [_Whispers_.

_Ord_. And will you trust him, Madam?

_Leon_. If he deceive me, ‘tis more happy far To die with them, than live where he inhabits.

_Osm_. It shall be done.

_Abd_. Go, _Osmin_, wait upon the Queen; And when she is confin’d, I’ll visit her, Where if she yield, she reigns; if not, she dies. [_Aside_.

[_Ex_. Abd. _one way_, Leon. Osm. _and the rest another_.