[]
NON DEFIC [...]T ALTER

[...]

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ALMEYDA, QUEEN OF GRANADA.

A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.

BY SOPHIA LEE.

AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY-LANE.

HE CHOSE A MOURNFUL MUSE
SOFT PITY TO INFUSE.—
DRYDEN.

DUBLIN: PRINTED BY BRETT SMITH, FOR MESSRS. P. WOGAN, P. BYRNE, C. BROWN, AND G. FOLINGSBY.

1796.

TO MRS. SIDDONS.

[]
DEAR MADAM,

THE high admiration I ever felt for the ſuperior talents you have ſo eminently diſplayed in ALMEYDA, could alone have induced me to venture a ſecond dramatick production. To that admiration, a more intimate knowledge of you, has added an eſteem; which is, I flatter myſelf, reciprocal. Not all the various charms you dignify the Drama with, can equal thoſe of your ſympathizing mind, and unaſſuming manners.—When thus united, they form a character it would be vanity to praiſe, tho' virtue to delight in. With true gratitude,

I remain, DEAR MADAM,
Your faithfully devoted Humble ſervant, SOPHIA LEE.
June 3, 1796.

ADVERTISEMENT.

[]

IT was with no leſs awe than deference I ventured, in the preſent day, to bring a Tragedy before the Publick. How great, then, muſt be my gratitude for the liberal acceptation it has met, and the tears with which it has been honoured. I muſt have wanted taſte and feeling, not to have been animated, by the exquiſite talents of Mrs. SIDDONS, into an exertion of ſuch as I poſſeſs. That I have been the means of diſplaying, in a new point of view, her various powers, is a moſt flattering recompence.

The ſtory of ALMEYDA is wholly a fiction; and the incident which produces the cataſtrophe the only one not my own.—The deep impreſſion made on me, long ſince, by a ſimilar denouement, in an old play of JAMES SHIRLEY's, determined me to apply it.

The Stage requires a compreſſion and brevity, which ſeldom improves a play to the reader: I have, therefore, printed ALMEYDA at length, marking by inverted commas the parts omitted in repreſentation.

PROLOGUE.

[]
THE Muſes long through many a varying age,
With truth and fiction mix'd, have grac'd the ſtage.
When weeping Conſtancy devoted ſtood,
Or patriot Honour ſeal'd his faith with blood,
They bade the deep-toned lyre reſponſive flow,
Sublimed the ſuffering, and diffuſed the woe;
Applauding Greece the numbers lov'd to hear,
And her ſtern warriors gave the graceful tear.
At length her venal train Corruption led,
And, with the Virtues link'd, the muſes fled
O'er Albion's happy land they paus'd awhile,
And ſhed the favouring influence of their ſmile.
Her HENRYS, HOTSPURS, trod the martial ſcene,
And ſir'd to heroes whom they found but men.
Bold SHAKESPEAR pour'd th' invigorating ſtrain,
And ROWE, and ſweeter OTWAY, fill'd the train.
What if the modern bard no more aſpire,
To rival OTWAY's ſweetneſs, SHAKESPEAR's fire;
What if no laurel meed his altar claim,
His cenſer boaſt no heav'n-enkindled flame,
Yet if beneath the ſmould'ring vapour ſhine
But one faint glimmering of the ſpark divine,
Ah! gently fan the flame! leſt faſhion's breath
O'er the pale promiſe ſend the blaſt of death;
Nor let the wreath Thalia only wear,
Her ſiſter muſe deſerves ſo well to ſhare.
'Tis her's the generous feeling to impart,
That mends the morals while it fills the heart:
Her's are the energies that beſt inform,
The ſighs that animate, and tears that warm.
Within the magic ſunſhine of her eye,
Truth, Honour, Loyalty, and Valour lie;
[]
All the [...]ord virtues that our ſires approved,
And all that Britons boaſt, or Britons loved—
Th [...]n [...]gainſt the charm no more your boſom ſteel,
But own the manly privilege to feel.
[...]olly, and Vice, may oft in ſmiles appear,
But baſhful Virtue veils her in a tear.
The bread, loud laugh, the mirth-inſpiring jeſt,
Humour's wild frolic, and gay fancy's feaſt,
Like brilliant bubbles ſparkle o'er the mind,
But burſt, and leave no radiant gleam behind;
While the bright pencil of the tragic muſe,
Her ſacred rainbow draws o'er chilling dews;
And tho' to air the tranſient glories run,
They give the promiſe of a golden ſun!

CHARACTERS.

  • Ramirez, King of Caſtile Mr. AICKIN.
  • Abdallah, Regent of Granada Mr. PALMER.
  • Alonzo, ſon of Ramirez Mr. KEMBLE.
  • Oraſmyn, ſon of Abdallah, and General of the Moors Mr. WROUGHTON.
  • Hamet, Captain of the Mooriſh Guard Mr. C. KEMBLE.
  • Nouraſſin, a Lord of the Council Mr. CAULFIELD.
  • Officers, Guards, &c.
  • Almeyda, Queen of Granada Mrs. SIDDONS.
  • Victoria, Princeſs of Caſtile Mrs. POWEL.
  • Abra, ſiſter to Hamet, and attending on the Queen Miſs HEARD.

Scene—A Mooriſh Caſtle on a bold rock which overhangs the Guadalquiver.

Time from the dawning of one morning to the dawning of the next.

ALMEYDA: A TRAGEDY.

[]

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A Hall in the Caſtle, of Mooriſh architecture, with window [...] of painted glaſs, in the receſſes of the arches low ſofas are placed with cuſhions piled, on one of theſe VICTORIA ſlumbers, while RAMIREZ walks in the Hall making notes in his tablets; bright fleecy clouds riſe behind the painted glaſs repreſenting the dawn of day.
RAMIREZ.
REMOVE thoſe lights—the day once more returns,
And nature ſprings into renew'd exiſtence!
Collects the fragrance breathing o'er her boſom,
And offers up the incenſe to the morn!
Slow o'er the mazes of the Guadalquiver
Curl the ſoft miſts, that quicken ev'ry odour.
—All animated beings gladly riſe
To their diurnal taſk.—Man, only man,
That froward fav'rite of indulgent heav'n,
Drops from his weary eye the ungrateful tear,
To blight the coming bleſſing!—dear Victoria!
Thy watching hath o'erpower'd thee!—ſoft, my child,
Like this, be all thy ſlumbers!
Victoria.
[8]
Have I ſlept?
I pray you pardon the unconſcious fault
And bleſs to me the morn.
half kneeling.
Ramirez.
May each to come
Breathe only peace upon thee; and reſtore
Thoſe roſes with ring on the ſhrine of friendſhip!
Victoria.
Alas! my father, bleſs too my Almeyda!
That ſo [...]itary ſov'reign! born to weep
The greatneſs thouſands covet! thro' the night,
Sleepleſs, and tearful, ſhe has ſtill entreated
That I would win you ever to retain her.
A Moor in name alone, Granada's throne
Charms not her heart—poſſeſſ'd, and alienate.
Ramirez.
I cannot chuſe but blame ev'n thee, my child,
If thou haſt ſought to win her from her duty.
Victoria.
Nay, rather blame the parents who reſign'd her.
Ramirez.
Forbear theſe raſh concluſions—Monarchs oft
I [...]uſt ſacrifice each feeling to their duty.
Victoria.
Alas! that aught ſhould break the tie of nature!
The ductile heart, as reaſon dawns, ſtill takes
A ſoft impreſſion of the neareſt object—
Thus did Almeyda's—yet an infant hoſtage,
She wak'd to knowledge on a foe's kind boſom.
Her lips firſt falter'd our Caſtilian tongue,
And, with becoming gratitude ſhe found
In thoſe who fondly train'd her up to honor,
Each dear, each ſacred tie, of love, and nature:
Nor did ſhe mourn her ſires, or brother's death,
As ſhe does now to leave us.
Ramirez.
Nor have I,
My daughter, ill-deſerv'd this gen'rous fondneſs,
Since with my children ſhe has ſhar'd my heart,
—No, tho' to death I hate the Mooriſh race,
Vindictive, and inſatiate—tho' my ſword
Ev'n yet could flame amid my country's foes
With energy unbroken, never knew I
To view a tender babe with abhorrence.
—Ah! ſweet Almeyda! in this very hall
Thy cries, unconſcious of thy fate, aſſail'd
[9]A heart alive to nature and humanity!
When with the error of ſoft innocence
Thy little arms clung round thy father's foe.
Victoria.
Was this the caſtle, where Almanzor choſe
To lodge his queen for ſafety?
Ramirez.
Ay—and wife
Had prov'd his choice, if Heav'n their arms had proſper'd.
—Thou ſeeſt—'tis ſolid as the rock that bears it;
Its proud tow'rs ſhadow our Caſtilian plains,
Tho' ſever'd from them by the Guadalquiver.
—They ſince have aw'd their owner.—For that day
Heaven bleſt the holy valour it inſpir'd!
That memorable day gave to our arms,
An hoſt almoſt unnumber'd, but by ſlain.
—Fluſh'd with our conqueſt, we aſſail'd this caſtle,
Which the intimidated queen threw open,
And as an hoſtage gave us up her daughter.
Victoria.
Oh! mother ill-deſerving my Almeyda!
Ramirez.
Erroneous youth ſtill takes the firſt impreſſion,
Nor looks beyond the ſurface! Be more wiſe;
Learn to pierce through the veil of policy,
Undazzled by its colours.—So thy friend
Shall better meet the future.
Victoria.
I attend,
With reverence ſo profound, each other ſenſe
Is loſt in hearing—
Ramirez.
Know the queen thy cenſure
Condemns unheard, ſhould rather claim thy pity.
Match'd to a monarch weak, vain, cold of heart,
Yet reſtleſs tho' inactive—her ſhort life
Paſs'd in diſquiet; from the hour that call'd her.
Almanzor's crafty brother gain'd the pow'r,
And in the king's name ſhelter'd every baſeneſs.
Two riſing princes ſcorn'd their uncle's ſway,
Alas! perhaps too boldly!—heav'n alone
Can judge the malady that nipp'd their bloom.
—Certain it is, Abdallah never offer'd
A due equiv'lent for our royal hoſtage
Until ſhe heir'd Granada.
Victoria.
Sweet Almeyda!
[10]Is this the ſavage truſted with thy welfare?
Thou too, perhaps, art doom'd by his ambition.
Ramirez.
Not ſo my daughter.—Politicians ever
Preſent a puppet to the public eye,
While they, unſeen, delight to guide its motions.
—Almeyda thus is needful to her uncle,
Who hopes to find in her a weak, vain woman.
Victoria.
Heav'n, for his puniſhment, then form'd an angel!
—Who, like Almeyda ever knew to blend
Th' eccentric, noble wildneſs of the Moor,
With ev'ry poliſh'd grace of our Caſtile?
Ramirez.
She is too frank, incautious, and ungovern'd.
More rude than cataracts her paſſions rage.
Victoria.
Yet ſtill like thoſe, profuſely pour upon us
Rich ore, for ever elſe beyond our reach!
Ramirez.
She muſt conceal thoſe paſſions to be great,
Subdue them to be happy. In the mind
All ſov'reignty begins, and ends.—Who rules
Impartially the frailties of his nature
Riſes almoſt beyond it, and extends,
Far as his name is known, a willing empire.
Teach thy fair friend, my child, this uſeful leſſon,
And next thy brother—
Victoria.
Ah! alike he needs it!
—I dread the wild concuſſion of his paſſions,
When he ſhall learn you chooſe the very hour,
In which he bravely fights his country's battles,
To yield the fair, who gives his life a value.
Ramirez.
I therefore chooſe it. Well I know, his temper
Is, like Almeyda's own, warm and ungovern'd.
Misjudging boy! to fix thy idle heart
On her, forever placed beyond thy reach!
Why ſaw I not, in childhood, this fond love,
Which, like a blight, clings to my life's beſt bloſſom?
—Yet could my ſon ere hope to wed Almeyda?
Victoria.
Alas, my father, when their love commenc'd,
Almeyda had two brothers; and my mother
Still fondly fancied, by this union, peace
Might one day bleſs the long conteſting nations.
Ramirez.
Romantic dream of youth, and idle paſſion!
[11]What pow'r can reconcile the croſs and creſcent?
Victoria.
Frown not, my father, if I further add,
Endear'd to chriſtian laws, and chriſtian manners,
Almeyda were to both an eaſy convert.
RAMIREZ
(ſternly.)
Victoria, if thou would'ſt atone thy fault
In cheriſhing this weakneſs, join to ſoothe
Thy brother's diſappointment—Tell Alonzo,
My love for him—my juſtice—nay, my prudence
Conſtrain me to reſign his heart's ſole object.
—Knows he not hardly we maintain our ground
Againſt theſe treach'rous neighbours, and muſt ſtill,
Whate'er the ſacrifice, defend our country?
—No news from Murcia yet?—Oh! how I long
To hear the iſſue of the impending battle!
—The riſing ſun gleams on the Mooriſh helms,
And gives a trembling luſtre to yon fields!
—Th' appointed moment comes to ſign the treaty.
I ſee Almeyda too, but dare not meet her;
Far be it from me to offend her feelings,
Or ſacrifice my own—bid her adieu!
Exit Ramirez.
ALMEYDA
(entering on the other ſide.)
During this trying interval, Victoria,
I had prepar'd myſelf to meet the King,
And now with breathleſs fear impatient ſought him.
Ah, wherefore flies he then? Still he relents not?
—Thou, or I greatly err, haſt ſued in vain—
Haſt ſued a Sov'reign might remain in bonds,
And yield dominion for implicit duty
—Well then I bow diſdainful to my fate—
Yet have a care, Ramirez, thy proud heart
May one day feel the pang that pierces mine.
Victoria.
What means my dear Almeyda?
Almeyda.
Ah! Alonzo!
Thou wilt not thus reſign—thou wilt not ſcorn me,
—Amid the rage of arms—the din of battle
[12]Almeyda's ſighs ſhall ſtill be heard, ſtill felt,
And counteract all policy—alas!
[...] may err, and ev'n Alonzo
May bid the eagle glory chace the dove,
And ſee the victim flutter to the ground.
—Alonzo leads the war, and quite forgets me!
Victoria.
Gentle Almeyda—govern theſe wild tranſports,
Which ever warp your judgment—
Almeyda.
Do not hope it—
Nor venture to decide a lover's conduct—
[...] tranquil blood flows equal thro' thy veins,
Like the clear riv'let thro' the graſſy vale,
While mine, impetuous as the bounding billows,
Swells to my heart, thence rapidly returns
And in the tumult ſwallows up wreck'd reaſon!
—Hadſt thou, like me, been boſom'd among ſtrangers,
And giv'n thy ſoul in recompence for love,
When found thyſelf torn from this happy home,
To waſte a gaudy life in cold indifference,
Like mine thy aching ſenſe would ſwell to anguiſh,
Like mine in tears would drown thee.
Victoria.
Yet believe
Alonzo's love unblemiſhed as his honor,
And rather praiſe than blame his ſenſe of duty.
Almeyda.
Why wilt thou ſhame my cheek?—Alas! Victoria,
Had I rememb'red mine, ne'er had I ſhed
Theſe burning drops—ev'n at this awful hour
When from the grave my anceſtors demand me,
To all the pride, and pow'r of purple empire,
My heart flies back to hover near my love,
And envies ev'ry ſlave, who daily ſees him.
Victoria.
This is alike erroneous—darling friend,
With ſteadier eye ſurvey the paſt and future—
So ſhall your mind extract repoſe from reaſon.
Almeyda.
Away with [...]eaſon! melancholy hermit!
Who idle eyes the ſtorm, then, vainly active,
Collects, and treaſures, ev'ry wreck of paſſion!
—I ſhall have hopeleſs years enough for reaſon,
[13]And give this hour to love.—Oh! ſay Victoria,
—And yet I dread to hear—is the King fixed
To ratify the peace?
Victoria.
He has no choice—
The rights of nations and his country's welfare,
Oblige him to reſtore you.—
Almeyda.
Rather ſay,
He has no heart—nor feels for my affliction—
—Ah! if the rights of nations were his rule,
Why did he ſubjugate a Monarch's daughter?
Why win her eaſy heart by gracious treatment?
Until ſecure of ſilent, anxious, duty,
He gave the Moors a Queen—himſelf a ſlave.—
Victoria.
Wherefore reproach my father with his virtues?
He conquer'd for his country—that loved cauſe
Induc'd him firſt to keep, and now to yield you.
—Rather admire th' impartiality
Which ranked you with his children in his heart.
—Perhaps ev'n deeper motives ſway'd his conduct;
—Perhaps he ſtood between you and an uncle,
Who views with jealous eyes your right of empire.
Almeyda.
Nay, now Ramirez ſpeaks from prejudice.
Whom ſhould I truſt if not my father's brother?
Victoria.
In Heav'n, and your integrity; but never
In this vindictive, ſubtle, ſavage Moor.
Without he is as ſpecious as the mountain,
Whoſe rich fertility delights each gazer,
But, oh! volcanos rage within! and gath'ring
Each noiſome vapour of the o'ercharg'd earth,
Forth unſuſpected burſts the flaming deluge,
Felt ſoon as ſeen—ev'n to annihilation!
Almeyda.
Alas! and is it thus? To ſuch a wretch
Muſt I be render'd up, in ignorance,
To learn the ſcience of hypocriſy—
With worldly art to arrange each little ſentence,
And preconcert each action?—Never more
Shall I enjoy the ſweets of confidence,
Or find in love a pleaſure.—Never more
Shall thy harmonious voice, Alonzo, charm me;
Or thine, dear rigid friend, reproving, ſoothe.
VICTORIA
[14]
—(taking her hand.)
Yet ſhall the vows that bound our youthful hearts
Remain inviolate.
Almeyda.
And ſhall Alonzo's?
Ah, no! for nature here makes a diſtinction;
Forms man's large heart for many a various duty,
And blends his paſſion into a republic—
While woman, born for love and ſoftneſs only,
Delights to feel love's abſolute dominion!
—Then tell thy brother—
Confuſed ſhouts heard.
Victoria.
Look up, dear Almeyda!
Revive, and ſpeak thy purpoſe.
ALMEYDA
—(leaning on her and fluttered.)
Tell thy brother,
Almeyda will not bind him by one vow;
Nor claim one ſacrifice.—Pleas'd to have lov'd,
Pleas'd to have been belov'd—to that remembrance
She conſecrates each future throb of paſſion;
And if ſhe dares imagine yet a joy,
'Twould be to know him bleſt, ſhe might have made ſo.
Victoria.
My father comes.—Oh! now, my beſt Almeyda!
Now be yourſelf, and dignify the moment.
ALMEYDA
(faintly.)
'Tis not in dying we muſt ſhew our courage;
Ah, no! 'tis in the fearful preparation—
Enter RAMIREZ, attended.
Health to my benefactor! glorious title,
More dear than that of father!—He but gives
A vulgar being, while the man who rears
Our virtues to exiſtence, is next Heav'n,
The worſhipp'd of our reaſon.
Ramirez.
Riſe, Almeyda
Queen of Granada, riſe! we gladly hail thee.
Thy kinſman comes to inveſt thee with dominion,
And give thee to an eager nation's eyes.—
I glory, thus accompliſh'd, to return thee.
Almeyda.
[15]
Ah! reconcile me to my fate by coldneſs.
—Know all the danger of this tender flatt'ry!
Ramirez.
In the poor word adieu, I ſum each wiſh
Affection ever form'd, in bleſſing virtue.
Farewel, at once—I yield thee to thy duty!
—Call into action ev'ry latent pow'r,
Reign o'er thyſelf—ſo ſhalt thou bleſs thy people.
ALMEYDA
—(flying towards them).
Tear out this heart! but do not, do not quit me!
Oh! do not ſnap at once each link in life,
And leave me ſolitary in creation!
Ramirez.
Afflict us not with ſuch a vain requeſt.
Ev'n now our troops evacuate the caſtle,
And thine aſſume each poſt.—Abdallah waits
To paſs one gate until I quit the other.
—Farewel, Almeyda! grace thy glorious fortune.
ALMEYDA ſinks under the regal Canopy, in tears.—The Mooriſh Muſic ſounds, and a long train entering do her homage, and arrange on each ſide; laſt comes ABDALLAH, with the Diadem borne before him.
ABDALLAH
—(doing homage).
Fair daughter of Almanzor! thus his brother
Hails thy return to freedom and dominion—
Thus tenders thee thy rich inheritance!
And thus, the formal taſk of duty ended,
Claſps thee with kindred, ſympathiſing love:
Bids thoſe bright eyes ſhake off the lucid drops,
And beam with all their own unequall'd luſtre.
Almeyda.
Alas! already he begins to flatter.
aſide.
—I were not worthy of your tender'd love,
My princely uncle, could I thus forget
At once the friends who rear'd me—
ABDALLAH
—(with a fierce irony).
Friends do you call them?
You are too young thus nicely to diſtinguiſh.
Give not the crafty foe ſuch undue honour.
Call thoſe, indeed, your friends, who now ſurround you;
Call the fierce ſoldiers too your friends, who ſpread
[16]In proud array o'er yonder pleaſant plain;—
Nor think him leſs your friend, whoſe policy
Fomented the rebellion, which oblig'd
Ramirez to reſtore you
Almeyda.
Oh! my heart!
Alonzo's abſence then I owe to you!—
aſide.
Noble Abdallah! be but gentle with me,
And I will meekly bear ev'n reprehenſion.
All are my friends, who only wiſh to ſerve me;
Yet, let me add, I hardly owe thoſe more
Who give my crown, than he who form'd me for it.
Abdallah.
Curſe on his poliſh'd arts! they've made thee ſubtle;
And I muſt deeply probe thy nature's weakneſs,
Ere yet thou charm'ſt each hearer.—
(aſide.)
Fair Almeyda!
Emancipate thy ſoul from this fond bondage:
Live to Granada, and forget Caſtile!
—No more repeat, with cheriſh'd latent love,
Names we were born to hate; but ſeek to win,
By partial kindneſs, thoſe, who ever dread
The empire of a woman.
Almeyda.
Have I empire?
Ah! no; for in the hour that ought to give it,
I firſt experience bondage. Stay, Ramirez,
King of Caſtile! Oh! hear me, and return!
Again receive—protect me! Bind theſe hands,
But give my heart its freedom! Dear Victoria
Fix not thy tearful eyes upon theſe walls,
Leſt I renounce all duties, and all ties,
To dwell with thee and friendſhip! Noble lords,
Pardon, I pray, frank nature's ebullition,
And ſee ev'n virtue in the eager tranſport.
—The love, I thus avow, was fairly won,
By equal love, and ever-lib'ral treatment.
Be like Caſtile indulgent, and this heart
Alike will glow with gratitude to you;
Will proudly cheriſh ev'ry regal virtue,
Shut out regret for all which it reſigns,
Nor own, ev'n to itſelf, it wants a joy,
While yet a duty claims it.
Abdallah.
[17]
This is reaſon—
There ſpoke the royal heireſs of Almanzor,
And no Caſtilian ſlave.
Almeyda.
Still muſt I ſtruggle—
aſide.
Abdallah.
Why do thoſe beauteous eyes ſtill ſeek the ground?
Oh! raiſe them, and ſurvey the golden future.
Thou know'ſt not yet the pleaſures of dominion!
—Be willing to be happy, and each means,
Indulgent Heav'n, in plenitude of pow'r,
E'er gave humanity, is thine—For thee,
Rich nature crowns this land with varying beauty;
And lab'ring art here fixes his perfection.
The ſea wafts hither every foreign treaſure,
And pale-eyed ſcience waits to tell their value.
—For thee, the poet's light hand ſweeps the lyre,
With melody unequall'd. Happy thouſands
But wait to view thee, and to want a wiſh;
While thoſe inur'd to mis'ry, in thy coming,
Find an uncertain hope that ſoothes each pain.
—Oh! new to life; accept, enjoy its bleſſings!
Come forth, and he ador'd! My ſon awaits thee:
Thy father's vet'rans, under his command,
Impatiently require their blooming queen.
ALMEYDA.
—(giving him her hand.)
Conduct me whereſoe'er my duty calls.
And, oh! may no unbidden pang intrude,
To dim with tears theſe gildings of my fortune!
Exeunt, the Muſic ſounding,

ACT II.

[18]

SCENE. I. A COURT IN THE CASTLE.

Enter ABDALLAH and ORASMYN.
ABDALLAH.
WHEN wilt thou learn, my ſon, to guard thy heart,
Which ſpeaks but too expreſſively by glances?
—I would not wiſh the council to diſcern
They but propoſe our pleaſure.—
Oraſmyn.
Pray you, pardon,
If ardent nature ſtifles feebler reaſon.
—Could I behold Almeyda, and reſtrain
This glow of tranſport, ne'er could I deſerve
Th [...] bliſs our prophet promiſes the faithful.
—No, not himſelf though Heav'n inſpir'd, ere fancied
So exquiſite a beauty! Yet that charm,
Nature's prime gift to woman, in Almeyda.
Is loſt—abſorpt in mind!—
Abdallah.
Check not thy tranſport;
For tho' to others I would have thee ſilent,
To me be wholly frank; and thus reward me
For all my anxious, fond ſolicitude,
Thro' many a long, long year. I own, I fear'd
That haughtineſs, ill-ſuited to her years,
Would ſtrike thee with diſpleaſure.
Oraſmyn.
Call not thus
The ſacred conſciouſneſs that waits on beauty,
And awes the wiſhes it awakes! I ever
Diſdain'd our narrow laws, which make the ſex
Domeſtic, artificial beings merely.—
—No! 'tis a character refin'd, decided,
That greatly charms the ſoul, and charms for ever!
—Why knew I not before ſhe was unequall'd?
ABDALLAH
[19]
—(ſmiling ſcarcaſtically).
Perchance ev'n now I know it not; yet hear
Theſe youthful flights well pleas'd: for thus each lover
Adorns his fancy's choice.
Oraſmyn.
But who can boaſt
A choice like mine? Nor did ev'n I ſuſpect,
Indulgent Heav'n in prodigality,
Had center'd all perfections in one woman.—
I came prepared by rigid rules to judge her—
Her before whom all rules, all modes, muſt vaniſh!
—For, oh! when firſt my eyes beheld the queen,
My heart avow'd her empire ere my tongue.
I wond'ring gaz'd! and, gazing more, more wonder'd!
Ethereal lovelineſs informs her frame,
And beams in living glory from her eyes!
Yet o'er theſe charms ſublime, meek modeſty
Draws a tranſparent veil of wand'ring graces,
As fleecy clouds flit o'er the noon day ſun,
And leave us opportunity to gaze,
Upon an orb too bright elſe for beholding!
Abdallah.
I could grow once again a boy to hear thee—
Graces I could perceive—not perfect beauty—
Oraſmyn.
Beauty's an indeterminate idea
Till fix'd by love—whoſe ever-pow'rful magic
Awakens a new being—love, when heav'n
Leaves to the vulgar ſenſe its work imperfect,
Illumes our ſight to trace the angel there.
—Thro' love we ſhare our Maker's great prerogative,
Creating ev'ry charm, and then approving!
—Yet when ſhe ſpoke, I half forgot her beauty—
Oh! with what melting harmony ſhe won,
The very air to ſilence; no rude breath
Dar'd blend with her's, but nature's ſelf ſtood huſh'd
Awe-ſtruck, ev'n as Oraſmyn—
Abdallah.
Be warn'd in time
Againſt a rev'rence ſo profound; for women
(Capricious ſtill and wayward) often ſcorn
Who graſps with trembling hand the fancied ſetter;
While with diſtinguiſhing regard, they view
The bolder man, who wears it as an ornament.
ORASMYN
[20]
(diſdainfully)
How ſhould this gen'ral cenſure touch Almeyda?
Abdallah.
Nay then thou lov'ſt indeed if thou haſt found
Already ſhe is peerleſs—I have done—
E'en win her thy own way; but win her quickly.
To match thee with Almeyda, and exalt thee
To empire in her right, has been I own
The object of my life—nor ſhould I think
That life itſelf too dear to crown my purpoſe.
—In the bold outline of my policy,
I heeded not, 'tis true, the glowing colours
Fond fancy gives her fav'rites—yet thoſe tints
Complete life's picture well—to ſee thee great
Was all I aſk'd but to behold thee happy
Leaves me without a wiſh!
Oraſmyn.
Still in this,
As in each incident of various life,
I owe much to my father! yet for once
This heart aſſerts a right to guide itſelf—
Nor would obtrude too early on Almeyda,
paſſion ſhe might doubt.—
Abdallah.
Again thou err'ſt—
But could'ſt thou win my judgment to approve
This idle ſcruple, it were now too late.—
The Council know my thoughts, and have ere this
Propoſ'd thee to the Queen.
Oraſmyn.
Preſumptuous!—raſh!—
Abdallah.
Judicious rather!—ſee'ſt thou not the prudence
To bind her to compliance, e'er ſhe knows
The pow'r, the pride, the pleaſure of dominion?
Oraſmyn.
But what can bind the heart, ſave its own choice?
I would have woo'd her with watchful eyes,
Such unremitting tender, prompt, affection,
As might have won her of herſelf, and crown'd
The future days of both with happineſs.
—Oh! never let ambition tie the knot,
Pure love alone can hallow!
Abdallah.
[21]
Would 'twere tied,
Tho' all this wooing follow'd—ſon, I tell thee,
Eſſential is the diff'rence of her ſtate,
Immured within this caſtle, where I reign—
While thou without maintain'ſt a like controul,
And an obſequious council ſpeak our will,
To the elation of unbounded pow'r,
The ſweets of flatt'ry, and the charm of fondneſs,
The glowing grace of popularity!—
Almeyda wants not ſhrewdneſs ſoon to learn,
If ſhe would ſee Granada, ſhe muſt wed thee.
ORASMYN
(turning ſorrwfully from him.)
More changeable than are the vernal clouds,
Which borrow heav'n's own hues one hour to charm us,
And e'er the next burſt in a gloomy deluge,
Is the fond happineſs a lover fancies!
—Oh, I do fear me, mine is gone already!
Did ſhe not bear an elevated mind,
She might unconſcious ſhare a common fate
And ſo perhaps might I—content to loſe
Our lives in apathy, and call it duty.
—But well Almeyda knows the rights of ſex,
Of rank, and all the heart's refin'd diſtinctions,
Nor did ſhe meet in mine one uncongenial.
—Pardon, my Lord, thoſe vain regrets—I'll quell them,
And once more wait thee.
Exit.
Abdallah.
It is ever ſo,
Still in fruition are our wiſhes puniſhed.
—Oraſmyn, I would have thee wed thy couſin,
But why this adoration?—when I ſee her,
The ſpirits of the dead ariſe before me,
And wither all my projects, all my pow'rs!
—Wherefore ſhould man invent a hell hereafter?
Alas! guilt makes one here! and he who ſins,
Tho' never mortal eye, or voice reprove him,
Finds in his boſom every fiend that peoples
The dark profound—in her I ſee her brothers—
Yet muſt ſhe be Oraſmyn's bride, or—nothing.
Exit.

SCENE II. THE APARTMENT OF THE QUEEN.

[22]
Enter ALMEYDA followed by ABRA.
Almeyda.
"Are theſe the charms of empire? Have we "pow'r
"To give that happineſs, we ne'er muſt know?
"—The meaneſt ſlave attending on our perſon,
"Makes her heart's free election, and adorns
"With life's firſt charm a poor, and vulgar home!
"—While rank, that ſplendid miſery to woman,
"Enchains us to the car of victor man;
"And barter'd now by policy, now honor,
"We buy an enemy, or we fix a friend!"
Marry Oraſmyn—no ambitious uncle;
Nor he, nor thou, ſhall thus controul my will,
Nor ev'n your inſtrument the ſervile council.
—I was devoted thus—allotted—wedded—
Giv'n, like the mere incumbrance of my crown,
[...]'er yet I wore it—tell me gentle maid,
(For all can tell me of my wayward fate
More than I know myſelf) was I not giv'n,
Long ſince to this young Prince?
Abra.
Gracious lady,
So much your people tender Prince Oraſmyn,
They much deſire the union—
Almeyda.
Then Oraſmyn,
And his more crafty father, have ſeduced
My people from their duty.—
Abra.
Dare I add,
Since youth's fair promiſe ripen'd into manhood,
Oraſmyn ſtill has riſ'n in fame, in virtue!
Your friends all love—your enemies all fear him.
ALMEYDA
(ſighing,)
And ſo e'er long may I—
Abra.
Oh! do not wrong him!—
Ne'er has the Prince diſgraced your own great lineage
By one invidious, ſordid, ſelfiſh, action.
[23]He feels a brave contempt of mortal praiſe,
Ev'n with a mighty av'rice of deſert—
To him the faulty fly, ſecure to find
Th' indulgence he requires not—while the wretched
Freely demand his pity and protection—
—His gitfs forerun his promiſe.
ALMEYDA
(diſdainfully).
Well thou ſpeak'ſt it!
"Abra.
Believe me, madam, when you better know "him,
"I ſhall be but your echo. In my eyes,
"(And can I give the prince a nobler praiſe?)
"In character as features he is like you.
"Almeyda.
Indeed, I own, I ſee not the reſemblance,
"And, but for vanity, ſhould call thee partial.
Abra.
Yet am I merely juſt—Though were I more,
In me it would be gratitude. My brother
Owes to Oraſmyn a diſtinguiſhed fortune—
Almeyda.
He meanly, therefore, placed thee near our perſon,
A buſy advocate.—Retire, and leave me,
Exit Abra.
I am environ'd by ſuch ſycophants—
And unobſerv'd can ſcarcely breathe a ſigh!
Thinks he by little arts like theſe to win me?
—No! were my heart not wholly thine, Alonzo,
Th' aſpiring, ſelfiſh lover, ne'er ſhould gain it.
—Yet much I dread Abdallah. On his brow
Lives a black penetration, which deep-pierces
Thro' virtue's thin and variable complexion,
Extracting oft, in bluſhes, the ſoul's meaning.
—Ah, wherefore breaks he on me?
Enter ABDALLAH.
Abdallah.
Sweet Almeyda!
Swift are the feet of thoſe who bear glad tidings.
Already hath the council's wiſe propoſal,
—Already hath thy gracious ſilence reach'd me.—
—Bleſt beyond fathers, in a ſon, 'tis thou,
Thou only, who canſt bleſs me with a daughter!
Almeyda.
[24]
Silence, my lord, implies not a deciſion.—
[...]rn in affliction, and in ſlav'ry nurtur'd—
The world, and all its ways, to me unknown,
I muſt have time to learn the needful ſcience.
Abdallah.
Thou ſhalt eſcape the deep, laborious ſtudy;
Enjoy the ſweets of life, with care unmix'd;
Become at once the idol of Oraſmyn,
And of a joyful people!
Almeyda.
I want fancy,
To tinge the picture with ſo rich a colour.
—Rais'd on a ſudden to a fearful height,
I view, uncertain which to chooſe, the paths
That wind around me in the world's vaſt maze.
Abdallah.
Oraſmyn's hand will guide—his heart ſuſtain thee.
"—Would I were not his ſire! for then, Almeyda,
"I might unbluſhing dwell upon his merits;
"Number the virtues, that from rea [...]on's dawn,
"Found in his heart their home, while, true to glory,
"He, with unequall'd fame, hath fought—hath conquer'd"!
Almeyda.
—Oraſmyn's merits, time, my lord, will teach me.—
Seek not at once to ſnatch me from myſelf.
—Were I to wed, while hardly yet enfranchis'd,
'Twould mark a latent weakneſs in my nature,
Or a determin'd ſelfiſhneſs in thine.
Abdallah.
Ay; were thy ſpouſe ignoble—unbelov'd.
But with my ſon, diſhonour ne'er was nam'd!
He was thy father's choice—his eye's laſt object.
When life receded faſt, he call'd Oraſmyn;
Then, with parental fondneſs, wrung his hand,
And charg'd him to entender his Almeyda.—
—Me he conjured to ſee his will obey'd,
And guard you both.—
Almeyda.
Alas! ſo well to guard us!
As may complete thy will no leſs than his.
aſide.
Kings can give crowns, my lord, and ſires commands,
Yet nature ſometimes gives the heart a pow'r
[25]To reſt ſelf-poiz'd, ev'n as the globe we tread on,
Dependant on no breath but our Creator's.
ABDALLAH
—(fiercely).
"Yet man incens'd, on this wide globe can ſpread
"A ruin nature ſhrinks from; ſtain her blooms
"With human blood, and load the vernal gales
"With groans but mock'd by winter's rudeſt howlings.
"Nay, ſtart not, princeſs! 'tis thyſelf has taught me
"To threat by implication.
Almeyda.
"Savage tyrant!
"Victoria! oh, Victoria! well thou ſpok'ſt him.
aſide.
Abdallah.
But ſee, thy lover! And at his approach
My ſwelling heart o'erflows with tenderneſs!
How could I cheriſh, worſhip, love Almeyda,
Would ſhe but deign alike to bend her nature!
ORASMYN
—(entering, kneels).
Say, will my ſov'reign pardon, if I preſs
Unlicens'd on her leiſure; break thro' forms
Cold hearts impos'd, to level with themſelves
More gen'rous natures, thus again to tender
A homage circles never knew to pay—
A vow imprinted here?
Almeyda.
Oraſmyn, riſe!
The pageant's o'er; and this devotion, mock'ry.
Oraſmyn.
If to behold Almeyda, and adore her;
To ſee in fancy's eye the world created,
And, in herſelf, the firſt, the only woman;
In each new glance to find a nameleſs charm,
And in each ſigh to breathe a new infection:
If this offend, ah, who ſhall gain her favour?
Almeyda.
A flame at once ſo prudent and ſo ſudden
Confided to the council, ere its object,
May well ſurprize—
Oraſmyn.
Forgive the interruption—
And know, Almeyda! hardly wouldſt thou ſcorn
Such intervention, more than would Oraſmyn.
—Yet, by thy own pure nature, deign to judge
Of his before thee! ſanction but his ſervice;
Allow him time to win upon thy favour,
[26]And, by the holy warmth that prompts the vow,
Thy will ſhall guide him!
Almeyda.
Wherefore truſt to time?
This moment ſtamps the paſſion and its motive.
—I would like you be guarded, prudent, ſelfiſh;
Preſerve a ſilence might enſure my ſafety,
And reſt upon the future—But my ſoul
Diſdains the mean, the temporiſing wiſdom,
Nor knows to tremble in the cauſe of truth.
—Vie with me, princes, in ſincerity!
Hence with inflated phraſe! and plainly ſay,
It is my diadem, not me, you woo.
Abdallah.
Were that Oraſmyn's object, he might
wear it.
Who ſhall oppoſe his will? A feeble woman!
Of little eſtimation in ſociety,
And leſs in empire—
Oraſmyn.
Spare me, Sir! oh! ſpare me
The deep diſgrace of this ungovern'd paſſion!
Almeyda.
Ev'n in his inſolence I praiſe his candour;
And moſt deſpiſe who makes the moſt profeſſions.
to Oraſmyn.
Abdallah.
Yet, hear me, princeſs! nor incenſe a nature
That deigns once more to ſtruggle with its fierceneſs.
"His only fault, Oraſmyn owes to thee:
"A fond, a fooliſh paſſion, chills his pow'rs,
"And leaves him but the ſemblance of himſelf.
"Had he thus trembled in the battle's front,
"Applauding nations ne'er had throng'd to ſee him,
"Nor hadſt thou worn the crown thou vaunt'ſt ſo bravely!
—Droop not, my ſon, beneath a woman's frown.
Tomorrow, and perhaps the fair one ſues!
Such is their weak, their fluctuating natures.
Ev'n now this proud one ſhrinks! Upon her cheek
The roſe of youth is blanch'd. Princeſs! farewell;
Remember, I or hate, or love, with ardour!
'Tis yet within thy pow'r to fix the feeling.
Exit.
Almeyda.
Alas! what pow'r can change it? Loſt Almeyda!
ORASMYN
[27]
(irreſolutely)
How ſhall a heart ill-underſtood, abhorr'd,
Win on thy confidence, or guide thy councils?
By heav'n! I melt in womaniſh lamentings,
Thus innocently to excite thy hatred!
Yet, hear me! be advis'd; diſguiſe thy feelings.
Thy ſafety reſts in quitting this lone fortreſs!
And ev'ry hour thou ſtay'ſt in it, diſtracts me.
Almeyda.
Who ſhall endue thee with the grace of truth,
Or give me faith to truſt thee? Well I ſee,
One is to terrify, and one to ſoothe me!
"—Tho' had indulgent nature crown'd thy youth
"With ev'ry charm and virtue giv'n to man,
"Yet left thee ſtill the ſon of fierce Abdallah,
"Ev'n tho' the earth I ſtand on yawn'd a grave,
"That grave ſhould be my choice rather than thee!
—Have I for this renounc'd each tender tye,
Of bleeding love, and ever faithful friendſhip?
—Not thus Alonzo woo'd—Victoria won me!
No ſighs, no tears, no honors, no deſpair!
No threat of miſery, no dread of bondage,
No ſound of death e'er mingled with his paſſion!
His poliſh'd heart felt and inſpir'd a love,
Which, far outſwelling this world's narrow bound,
Both may delight to bear into a better!
Oraſmyn.
Th' unwary flight expounds a myſtery
My ſhallow ſenſe o'erlook'd. Oh! well I ſee
Why thou wouldſt not do juſtice to Oraſmyn.
—Yet, oh! I pity, far more than I blame thee!
Hide from all eyes, but chiefly from my father's,
Th' unſanction'd prepoſſeſſion! Ruin—murder,
A thouſand ills, I will not ſhock thy ſenſe with,
Lurk in the thought of love, and of Alonzo!
—Born to adore, to follow, to protect thee!
Think not Oraſmyn will deſert himſelf,
To force a heart upon thee!—Oh, farewell!
I cannot coin in words my ſoul's ſoft meaning!
Exit.
Almeyda.
There is a glowing grandeur in this prince,
Worthy a better ſire! But, oh, Alonzo!
[28]Ne'er ſhalt thou know the ſhadow of a rival,
Ev'n tho' alone I breaſt the beating ſtorm,
And fall the ſingle object of its rage!

ACT III.

SCENE I. A COURT IN THE CASTLE.

Enter ABDALLAH, followed by an officer.
ABDALLAH.
COMMAND a council? without my concurrence
Already dares ſhe queen it? Haſte! and ſay
You found me indiſpos'd; and wave the meeting.
—While to the lords you urge—not my excuſe,
But frame one from Almeyda.—
Shouldſt thou ſuggeſt an intellectual wand'ring,
Which makes her ſay and unſay, it were apt.
Thou art diſcerning, and do'ſt underſtand me—
She is too young to follow her own guidance,
While that of others wrings her!
Exit Officer.
Have I waded
Thro' many an artifice, and many an horror,
Seen time and circumſtance mature my views,
To let a haughty, fooliſh woman, croſs me?
—Hah!—might I not improve my own ſuggeſtion,
And work her high-wrought paſſions into phrenzy?
Enter HAMET.
Hamet.
My Lord, ev'n now, a young Caſtilian preſſes
Importunately to addreſs the queen—
I heeded well your wiſh, and ſtudious ſought
To learn his embaſſy; but, or prepared,
By thoſe who ſent him, or his own diſcretion,
He foil'd my ſkill.
Abdallah.
[29]
Thou win'ſt for life my favour—
Search, and ſome curious billet, love-inſcrib'd
Will tell the mighty ſecret.—
Hamet.
Nought is found,
Above his own degree—nor arms, nor letters—
Save but a ring; which he at firſt deliver'd;
The guard incautious ſent it to the Queen,
Who wills to ſee him.
Abdallah.
Ah! there's more in this!—
Careful conceal that I have been inform'd,
And lead Almeyda to the hall of audience.
There, thro' the ſecret lattice, I may hear,
A tale of import—be thyſelf at hand—
—Now, now, Oraſmyn, comes thy fortune's criſis.
Exeunt ſeverally.

SCENE II. THE HALL OF AUDIENCE.

Enter ALMEYDA, gazing on a ring.
Almeyda.
Oh! fond memorial of delightful days,
For ever vaniſh'd! in this little mirror
A thouſand fairy viſions paſs along,
Of love, and bliſs!—upon Alonzo's hand,
Mine playful fix'd thee!—ah! why art thou here?
—Com'ſt thou the pledge of ſafety and of triumph,
Or the cold legacy of parting nature?
—Oh! ſtill belov'd tho' in the grave I ſeek thee,
Thus I accept thy gift!—a bridal token!—
Attends the meſſenger?
ALONZO
(entering diſguiſed.)
He waits thy pleaſure.—
ALMEYDA
(ſtarting.)
Support me heav'n! for ah! that voice ſhould claim,
Long, long, acquaintance with this beating heart!
"—But the charm'd ſenſe in many a various viſage,
"Traces a likeneſs to the one ador'd,
"And hears in ev'ry voice the darling ſound!"
Alonzo.
[30]
Almeyda!
ALMEYDA
—(fainting.)
Oh grief!—Oh agony!—oh nameleſs horror!
Alonzo.
Lift up thine eyes, my ſoul! and, like Alonzo,
From this embrace derive a new exiſtence!
ALMEYDA
(ſpringing from him in terror.)
"How com'ſt thou here? What evil genius led thee
"To croſs yon fatal river?"
Alonzo.
"He who led
"Leander, through the deep in midnight horror,
"—But in his welcome, be forgot his danger"—
Almeyda.
"Ah! thine is yet unknown"—fly, haſte, oh leave me!
Where waits thy train?
Alonzo.
Amid the ſlaughter'd Murcians.
Pride, pomp, and glory, yield to my Almeyda!
In vain would time, or diſtance, wreſt her from me,
She, ſhe alone can ſhield me in the war,
Or nerve my arm at the fierce battle's onſet.
—I knew untold her danger—knew her fate
Requir'd a deſperate conqueſt! that atchiev'd,
I breath'd not till I ſhould o'ertake my father!
—Judge of my feelings when I croſſ'd his train,
Retiring from this caſtle—duty—honour
Renown itſelf gave way to love, and thee—
—I left my officers the pleaſing taſk
T [...] announce my triumph; and in mean diſguiſe
Unaided and alone, thus reach'd thy preſence.
—Ah wherefore reach'd it? Since thine eye repels me?
No more the fond companion to my childhood,
No more the worſhip'd idol of my youth!
Queen of Granada, now thou ſtand'ſt before me!
Almeyda.
Oh, hours! oh, days! which never muſt return
When thus thy accents charm'd me!—my Alonzo,
Thou think'ſt thou ſee'ſt me on my father's throne,
Whole nations ſmiling when I deign to ſmile,
Or at my frown diſmay'd—how would'ſt thou feel
If this bright viſion vaniſh'd—if theſe halls,
[31]O'er-arch'd with gilded roofs, and gaudy ſculpture,
Preſented only an imperial priſon?
"How, if the radiant enſigns of dominion,
"Shrunk into chains?—Alas! more truly ſuch,
"Than e'er I wore when in thy father's palace!"
—Here in Granada—mid my royal kindred,
By councils flatter'd, and an army hail'd!
Almeyda, is a ſolitary wretch,
No being ſympathizes with ſave you—
You, only you, of all the vaſt creation!
Alonzo.
Whom can'ſt thou fear, my love, when I am near thee?
Almeyda.
Heav'ns think'ſt thou for myſelf, I feel this pang?
For thee, for thee, alone, my nature ſhudders!
"Life has no charm but what your preſence gives it,
"Nor death a fear but that your danger cauſes!"
—And, ah! that danger fearfully appals me!
Cold chills ev'n at this moment counteract,
The joy, the tender joy, I take to ſee thee!
Alonzo.
Art thou not ſov'reign? Who ſhall over-rule thee?
Almeyda.
That tyrant who alone permitted thee,
To croſs this fatal barrier; which alive
Thou never ſhalt repaſs!—thou haſt not known him,
"Cow'rs not the dove whene'er the vulture hovers,
"And ſhrink not I before the fierce Abdallah?
"Ere yet he knew my ſoul's moſt tender part
"Ere thy name reach'd him how has he appall'd me
"—I would have been thy fortune, my Alonzo,
"But was ordain'd thy ſate!"
Alonzo.
Were this fear juſt,
(Tho' ſurely 'tis thy fancy's wild creation)
Yet were I ſafe—alone, and unſuſpected,
Have I approach'd thee; and alike unknown
May I retreat—recall once more my father;
Aſſert the pow'r our victory has given us,
And dictate to this inſolent Abdallah!
ABDALLAH
(ruſhing on with guards.)
Arreſt this ſlave! we'll ſee who henceforth dictates!
ALMEYDA
[32]
(claſping his knees.)
Ere yet you ſpeak!—"Ere yet that dreadful voice,
"Denounces all your aſpect threatens, pauſe!
"Oh, pauſe! and liſten to the voice of nature!"
Thro' me Almanzor calls; through me he bids,
Ev'n from the grave commands thee to be humane!
Abdallah.
Would'ſt thou arreſt the ſentence on theſe lips,
Avow at once compliance with my will—
—Wilt thou divide thy throne with my Oraſmyn,
And ſhun to death this minion?
Alonzo.
Sweet Almeyda,
Degrade not me by this humiliation!—
—I was not born to ſupplicate a tyrant;
Who poorly plays upon thy ſex's weakneſs.
—Abdallah knows too well the rights of nations,
A father's feelings and a King's reſentment,
To dare aſſail my life.—
Abdallah.
Ah! ſay'ſt thou, youth?
Art thou ſo new to life, univerſ'd in policy,
To think the world need witneſs our decrees?
Thou, thou thyſelf, haſt ſhewn me all my pow'r,
Did I not learn from thy own lips, ev'n now,
Unknown, and unaſſiſted, thou art here?
Here, in Granada's confines—in a fortreſs,
Where tongueleſs miniſters perform my will,
Amid the murky horrors of the night,
And hollow rocks inter the nameleſs victim!
—Ev'n now death yawns beneath thy feet, a word,
A look, of mine, conſigns thee to oblivion!
Almeyda.
While I ſurvive?—Ah! how dar'ſt thou preſume it?
—His name—his fate, ſhould echo thro' the world—
To his dear mem'ry, I'd devote my days,
And live but to avenge him.—
Abdallah.
Thou too brave me!
Know thou ſhalt live in vain—thy feeble voice
Tho' truth-inſpir'd, as was the Dardan maids,
Like her's ſhall cry unheeded; nor can aught,
Save him, or thee, but inſtant, prompt, obedience.
Almeyda.
[33]
Oh! my too timid he art!—ſpeak, lov'd Alonzo—
There is a brutal fierceneſs in his nature,
Which mine was born to ſhrink from!—buſy fancy,
Fills up the bloody outline he has drawn,
And ſees thee breathleſs!—murder'd!—
Alonzo.
Thus behold me—
Ere to prolong an ignominious being,
I urge thee to debaſe a noble nature,
Or break a vow to me indiſſoluble!
ABDALLAH
(to the guards.)
Drag hence this ſlave—untold ye know the reſt.
[Alonzo is dragg'd off and Almeyda falls at the feet of Abdallah.]
Almeyda.
"Oh! yet have mercy!—hear in time my cries!"—
She riſes with majeſty.
Inſulting tyrant!—dread my deſperation!
If thy malignity aſſail a life,
To which that wildly throbbing in this boſom,
Is valueleſs, nor fear, nor pride, ſhall bound me;
I will not reſt, till I have found a means
To make my vengeance like thine own—conſummate.
Abdallah.
Thou art too kind to warn me of thy purpoſe—
"Learn firſt by what enchantment thou ſhalt paſs
"The bounds my pow'r preſcribes thee—in theſe chambers
"Unpitied—unaſſiſted—ſhalt thou rage,
"Till thou haſt found ſome ſurer way to move me.
—The officer on guard?
Enter HAMET, and afterwards ABRA.
Hamet, approach—
Thou know'ſt my temper—if thy life be dear
Guard well the Queen's apartment; nor allow
One being to paſs out—not ev'n herſelf—
—Reaſons too cogent for thy knowledge, urge,
This ſeemingly ſtrict meaſure—
Almeyda.
[34]
"You are human!
"Oh, hear! yet hear one word."—
ABDALLAH
(fiercely to Hamet.)
"Have I not ſpoke?"
Hamet retires.
Thou ſee'ſt my pow'r—
Almeyda.
Burſt, burſt, at once my heart!
This conflict is too mighty!—do not leave me,
(ſees Abdallah returning.)
For dreadful as the ſight is, I can never,
Never, ſurvive the moment of thy going—
"—As yet he breathes—as yet my ſoul dares cheriſh
"The feeble hope that binds her down to ſuffer?
"—Harſh as thou look'ſt—yet nature muſt have giv'n "thee,
"Affections, in their turn, as exquiſite,
"As thoſe that rend theſe heartſtrings"—can'ſt thou then
Oh! can'ſt thou blight my youth, with ſuch a ſorrow?
—Precipitate me early to the grave,
And mark life's little interval with frenzy?
—Speak, tell me, thou wilt ſave him?
ORASMYN
(ſpeaks entering.)
That ſweet voice,
Strikes on the heart thy cruelty has chill'd,
And, like the lyre of Orpheus, charms the dead!
—In tears Almeyda?—Wherefore this proſtration?
ALMEYDA
(with frenzy.)
—He's murder'd!—loſt! no earthly pow'r can ſave him
The fiat is pronounc'd, and he muſt periſh!—
—Ah! is it you Oraſmyn?—give me language,
May touch [...]t his human rock into a heart!
Oraſmyn.
Allow me to partake, to ſoothe, this anguiſh—
Oh! give me but to know its ſecret cauſe!
Almeyda.
Thou ſoothe it?—Thou partake it?—Mighty Alla!
This is but a refinement on misfortune—
Thou, thou thyſelf art its firſt cauſe—thy love,
[35]Thy ſelfiſh, thy ambitious love, undoes me!
Fly, ſave him, ſave him—bring him inſtant hither,
E're yet the life-blood blacken in his cheek,
E're yet thoſe eyes are ſ [...]al'd in utter darkneſs,
And I'll forget the paſt, will pardon all,
Will worſhip his preſerver!—vain—vain prayer
Thou art Abdallah's ſon!—the dire inheritor,
Of his obdurate nature!—hence, abhor'd!
Oh! for ſome depth the ſun may never pierce,
Where I can waſte my being in lamenting!
Exit.
Oraſmyn.
Danger and death I have fac'd in many a form;
I've leap'd into the deadly breach; and ſeen
An hoſt of jav'lins quiv'ring at this boſom,
But never knew I fear, deſpair, till now!
—Follow thy hapleſs Queen, and in thy ſoothings
Have better fortune!—agoniz'd—bewilder'd—
Exit Abra.
I dread I know not what—yet I obſerv'd
A ſtrangeneſs in my father's quick departure!
—Too well I know t'atchieve a darling purpoſe,
He would o'erleap the bounds of truth, and juſtice.
—Perhaps this youth—yet that's impoſſible—
Oh! that Almeyda, would enough eſteem me,
To truſt me with her ſorrows!
Exit.
Re-enter ALMEYDA, leaning on ABRA.
Almeyda.
He is gone
Nor can I pro [...]t by returning reaſon,
To win his aid!—Ah! wherefore ſhould I win it?
"Alonzo, now exiſts but in my memory;
"Yet here I ſeek him—here ſhall ever wander,
"Ev'n as the ſpirits of the dead reviſit,
"The ſpot where they have buried all their treaſure.
"Here fancy pictures to the mental eye,
"That graceful form, while yet it was corporeal!
"Here laſt I heard that voice!—oh! might it break,
"The bound 'twixt immortality, and life,
"To charm with heav'n's own eloquence my woes!"
Abra.
[36]
Beſeech you, Madam, moderate this grief,
The Prince's life is ſafe
Almeyda.
Safe with Abdallah?
Abra.
His ſon, with gen'rous fervour ſhar'd your ſorrow,
And loves you too well, to deſert its object.
Almeyda.
"Abra, Oraſmyn yet has love to learn—
"Love turns abhorrent from an act of violence,
"Too deeply wounded with a ſorrowing ſigh—
"—Love! 'tis our all-refining touch of heav'n;
"Whoſe kindling emulation ever gives,
"A ſelf-exacted eminence of goodneſs,
"To vulgar minds unknown!"
Abra.
"Yet is he ſafe"—
Ne'er will my brother ſacrifice his honour,
Much as he loves Oraſmyn, fears Abdallah,
Or ſtain his ſoul with murder—
Almeyda.
Ah! thy brother?
Is then the officer on guard thy brother?
Abra.
Raiſ'd early to diſtinction by Abdallah.
Under himſelf he governs in this caſtle,
To him you are in charge—
Almeyda.
Oh! Abra, hear me!
"If e'er your features bloſſom'd into beauty,
"Beneath the animating eye of love!
"If e'er the throbbing tenant of your boſom,
"Felt the ſoft impulſe of a generous paſſion,"
If you would not behold your heart's dear choice,
Like mine, the victim of ſome horrid treaſon,
And be yourſelf a miſerable maniac,
Oh win your brother, to releaſe Alonzo
Abra.
Alas! too highly he regards his honor
Nor dare I tempt it.—
Almeyda.
Call him inſtant hither!
Abra.
He will not yield—ſweet Princeſs, be intreated.
Almeyda.
Obey me—nor reply—a weak blind hope.
Exit Abra.
Still, like the buſy mole, eſſays to work,
Its ſlow way thro' the heavy weight fall'n here.
preſſes her hand on her forehead.
[37] Re-enter ABRA with HAMET.
Thou guardian of my life in its beſt treaſure!
Tell me, Alonzo lives?
Hamet.
He lives—as yet—
Almeyda.
As yet—Oh heav'n
Hamet.
Alas! it is too ſure,
He totters on eternity's dark verge,
Unconſcious of his danger—this ſteep rock
Thro' many a winding path is ſcoop'd in dens,
Unknown—impenetrable—one o'erhangs,
An arm, which parting from the Guadalquiver,
Deep-plunging ſeeks an undiſcover'd courſe.—
—There, thro' a fearful chaſm wild nature wrought,
Full many a victim to the fears of ſtate,
Has ſunk into oblivion.—
Almeyda.
Mighty Alla!
The ſavage utter'd then but the mere truth.
—Thus will aſſuredly Alonzo periſh,
Unleſs thou ſave him!
Hamet.
Me!—impoſſible!
Yet think not ought ſhall win me to deſtroy him.
Almeyda.
Oh! venture not to ſay thou want'ſt the pow'r
Leſt ſudden froſt ſhould burſt this ſwelling heart.
Hamet.
I cannot, dare not diſobey Abdallah;
Whoſe bounty firſt diſtinguiſh'd, ſtill rewards me.
Almeyda.
And cannot I diſtinguiſh—I reward?
Oh! let me know Alonzo ſafe, and free,
And thou ſhalt find I dare aſſert my rights,
Ev'n till I awe Abdallah!
Hamet.
Never—never—
His nature's fierce—obdurate—uncontroulable—
—Death in its ſimpleſt form to man is dreadful,
But when forerun by agony—by torture—
And were I once to wrong his confidence—
Almeyda.
Do not I too, know well his barb'rous nature?
—Haſt thou a fear applies not to Alonzo?
Thus muſt he ſuffer—thus muſt he expire,
Unleſs thou 'rt won—Alas! that I could barter,
[38]This vain, vain pageantry of regal power,
To be but one hour Hamet.
Hamet.
My touch'd heart,
Ev'n bleeds with ſympathy.—
Almeyda.
'Tis prophanation,
To mingle in the anguiſh thou reliev'ſt not—
—Said I an hour? A few ſhort moments,
Would waft you o'er the river; and once landed,
Nor could Abdallah, nor his vengeance reach you!
—Ramirez, gracious Monarch, would reward,
Protect—adore his ſon's deliverer!
A grateful nation eye thee with delight,
While thy pure conſcience would each plaudit echo!
Ev'n ſhe who ſues, one day with pride might call thee,
To fame, to wealth, to greatneſs!
Hamet.
Did not duty—
Almeyda.
Know'ſt thou one duty ſtronger than humanity?—
That awful principle by heav'n implanted,
To ſtill the raging of th' impetuous paſſions,
Or lead the ſwelling current up to virtue!
—Oh! then be warn'd! and as thou die in peace,
Liſt to the voice of heav'n that ſpeaks thro' me!
HAMET
(kneeling.)
Endu'd of heav'n! it does indeed inſpire thee!
And be my life, or long, or ſhort, it waits
Henceforward on thy will!
ALMEYDA
(leaning over him.)
Oh! be it crown'd,
With ev'ry grace, and glory,—may no pain,
No ſorrow touch the heart that melts with mercy,
" [...]ut ſuch a bleſſedneſs poſſeſs it here,
"As makes this life the foretaſte of a better"
—Oh! from what dire extremes this virtue ſaves me!
Did I not ſay, my Abra, I would win him?
Now tell me, Hamet, how thou'lt ſave my love?
Hamet.
"The will once fix'd, I do not want the pow'r"
[39]"—To me each gate, each dungeon, freely opens;
I will prepare a boat, and when the night
Spreads her dark mantle o'er a drowſy world,
I'll thither lead the Prince, and ſhare his flight.
Almeyda.
My guardian angel! who like him benign,
Receiv'ſt thy ſole reward in conſcious goodneſs!
pauſes.
—If (and my heart forebodes ſome new affliction)
He ſhould deceive me—that—would aſcertain it—
Hamet I have conſider'd—and muſt ſee him—
Hamet.
The pris'ner Madam?
Almeyda.
Ay the Prince Alonzo?
Hamet.
You cannot mean it?
Almeyda.
Never more intently!
If thou haſt pow'r to free him; thou haſt pow'r
To guide me to his dungeon!
Hamet.
Through his guards,
And many a vaulted lab'rinth long, and lonely,
How ſhould our beauteous ſov'reign paſs ſecurely?
Almeyda.
I'll dare the chance!—thy ſiſter's veil ſhall hide
The ſplendor of theſe veſtments—now begone,
With circumſpection plan Alonzo's flight,
Then haſte, and lead me to him—
Hamet.
You muſt rule—
Yet much I dread this needleſs enterpriſe!
—Oh! ſiſter, you've deſtroy'd me!
Exit.
Almeyda.
Heed him not!
Ne'er will thy Queen deſert who truly ſerves her!
—Oh! Abra, in the hour of mortal peril,
Should'ſt thou be born to ſuffer like Almeyda,
May one as gen'rous as thyſelf ariſe,
To ſave thee from a pang more keen than dying!

ACT IV.

[40]

SCENE I.

A dark vault irregularly hewn in the rock, extending out of ſight on one ſide, in a viſta of rude imperfect pillars.—A ſmall gate leads on the other ſide, through an enormous crag of the rock—ALONZO diſcover'd, chain'd to a pillar, againſt which he leans.
ALONZO.
WHY lingers thus the tyrant exquiſite
In ill perhaps he thinks mere death indulgence;
And therefore leaves me leiſure for reflection—
An awful pauſe, 'twixt life, and immortality!
—Is this the Murcian victor? This the heir
Of great Ramirez? that Caſtilian ſun,
Which roſe to light a nation on to virtue,
Or early ſet amid a crimſon glory?—
Eclipſ'd at once; the victim of his paſſions
He aids his murderers and but hopes oblivion.—
—Long will my father wonder where I vaniſh'd!—
Almeyda, poor Almeyda's not ſo happy!—
The guards unbar the gate, and light in Abdallah; then fixing their torches in clefts of the rock, they retire.
Abdallah.
Ere I pronounce my laſt reſolve, I aſk,
Has ſo [...]itude reſtor'd thy better reaſon?
Alonzo.
Has recollection humaniz'd thy heart?
Why ſhould not virtue bear as fix'd a tenor,
As vice can beaſt?
Abdallah.
Yet dar'ſt thou vaunt it thus?
Raſh youth, if thou would'ſt view the light of heav'n,
Or breath untainted air—
Alonzo.
Where are thy ruffians—
[...] thou not ſee I leſs abhor to die,
[41]Than poorly to condition with Abdallah?
Why urge this parley?
Abdallah.
Thou wert born, Alonzo,
Thy enemies muſt own, to grace the name,
Tranſmitted thee from a long line of heroes—
Can'ſt thou then raſhly fix thy fate, and periſh
In flow'r of youth—in ignominy—bondage?
Alonzo.
Ay—with a firmneſs thou can'ſt never know,
Who liv'ſt in guilt; and therefore find'ſt in living,
Only a daily reſpite from damnation.
Abdallaeh.
What is the mighty ſacrifice enjoin'd?
Why but to yield what thou can'ſt ne'er enjoy,
And bend Almeyda's will to meet her duty.
Then will theſe chains drop off; and our glad arms
In friendſhip fold thee.
Alonzo.
By the light of heav'n!
Forever vaniſh'd from theſe eyes, I ſwear,
I would not yield one chaſte ſigh of Almeyda,
To be the worſhip'd of an hoſt of traitors!
Abdallah.
Thou haſt not weigh'd the agonizing pangs
My pow'r can make thee ſuffer, ere I grant thee
The comfort of expiring?
Alonzo.
I have weigh'd
Thy character; and therefore am prepar'd
For all thy threats imply—
ABDALLAH
(ſtamps, and guards enter with torches and leavers.)
Employ your leavers—
Raiſe yon enormous ſtone—beneath that chaſm
Thro' jagged rocks—imperious—horrible—
A ſtream, oblivious as the fabled Lethe,
Waſhes to many an undiſcover'd hollow,
The victims of my will—
Alonzo.
Thy mercy then
Spares the ſoul-harrowing pomp of preparation,
And all the pangs of nature, and of love?
Abdallah.
Hark! hear'ſt thou not in the deep ſullen roar
The knell of death?—Of thoſe who've gone before thee,
[42]Methinks the ſhrieks reſound!—a breath of mine,
Will add Alonzo to the untold many!
—Then vainly ſhall Almeyda weep thy loſs,
Ramirez ſhall in vain demand his ſon!
For, tho' he ſhook this fortreſs to the centre,
Razed its enormous towers, and ſolid baſtions,
Their ruins would but form the tomb he ſought
Alonzo.
I have not liv'd ſo ill, that I have now
To learn to die,—and of Abdallah too!
No, white as angels if thou ſtood'ſt before me,
Denouncing thus my doom I could not fear thee,
How ſhould I now?
Abdallah.
Becauſe thou'rt in my pow'r,
And I dare uſe it.—Yet again reflect,
But know when next we meet my voice is mortal.
Alonzo.
Be it ſo now!—ev'n now!—why this diſplay
To the firm ſoul that never ſhrunk from danger?
—By heav'n I feel an infant once again,
When thus inſulted with an infant's terrors!
—Ye high-arch'd rocks! to groans alone reſounding,
Witneſs one wretch has never tried your echo—
—And you, oh! moſt adored! who o'er theſe dens,
Rend heav'n, and earth, with vain, and fond lamenting,
For him thus ſtrangely vaniſh'd—never know
Your feet unconſcious trod Alonzo's grave!
ORASMYN
(deſcends with a torch.)
Dark labyrinth, for murder fitly wrought,
At length I've reach'd your limit!—or [...]er [...],
Or this dim light gleams on the hapleſs ſtranger!
—His mien beſpeaks a deep diſdain of death,
With princely graces blended—youth unknown!
Dar'ſt thou reveal at once, thy rank and name,
With the dark embaſſy that thus entombs thee
Alonzo.
Oraſmyn! for I need not aſk thy title,
So well thy port beſpeaks the prince and lover;
Why would'ſt thou know a name like thine renown'd,
But, oh! unlike thin [...], never ſtain'd with murder.
Oraſmyn.
Prince, thou art bound by chains, and I by feeling!
[43]—The ſun that ripens in a Moor's warm heart
Ev'n virtue into paſſion, ripens there
Thoſe glowing frailties that o'errun [...]he ſoil,
And poiſon its pure product—I'd forget
If poſſible the arts that charm'd Almeyda—
Alonzo.
Can'ſt thou forbid the bud to blow? The zephyr
To wake the bird of ſpring?—As well do this,
As chill the ſoul's ſoft breathings! diſunite
Hearts, which but new to life, like infant plants
Entwin'd unconſcious—lived but by each other!
Alonzo never knew a guilty thought,
Or plan'd a guilty union!—if Almeyda,
Gave him, Oh gift beyond all price! her heart,
Who would not think it cheaply bought with life?
Oraſmyn.
Fain would I hate Alonzo! like a rival
Fain would I hear thy words, ſurvey thy actions!
But my pure nature does thee noble juſtice!
Why wilt thou not view me with equal candor?
Thou haſt Almeyda's heart—oh bleſt pre-eminence!
Outſtrip me not too in the race of honor—
To her repoſe I ſacrifice a paſſion
Strong as thine own—oh! join with me to ſave her!
Alonzo.
Ah! can'ſt thou love with ſo ſublime a virtue!
She lives but to thy ſenſes—thou ne'er knew'ſt
The chaſte perfection of that gen'rous nature!
Ne'er mingled ſouls with her, in love as pure
As the intelligence that angels hold!
—That bliſs—that agony was mine—mine only!
To thee Almeyda ſeems impetuous, raſh,
Touch but her heart and it o'erflows with ſoftneſs!
—Oraſmyn, if thou lov'ſt, 'tis thine to prove it.
—A fearful criſis is at hand—when over
Oh! ſoothe, ſupport, conſole, the ſorrowing angel.
Protect her from thy fierce obdurate ſire,
I dare implore thee, from thyſelf protect her!
—So ſhall that mortal hour no being yet
Encounter'd with indifference, be met
By me with fortitude! the long hereafter
So ſhalt thou leſs regret!—and ev'n Almeyda,
[44]At length perhaps forget me—
Oraſmyn.
Never—never
When the ſoft fibres of the heart expand,
And thus enclaſp another, time, or ſpace,
In vain would break the hold, or make us ſingle!
—I ſee no more in thee a hated rival!
Virtue's own awful form appears before me—
Bids me behold a monarch's glorious heir!
The gallant leader of victorious armies!
The idol of whole nations!—more, oh! more,
Her own devoted pupil!—ſhall I then
Leave thee to die, and ſin againſt ſociety?
—Oh my proud ſoul how it diſdains the thought!
Yet for my father's ſake, ere yet I free thee,
Aſſure me—
Alonzo.
Spare thy gen'rous cheek the bluſh
Of aſking that unworthy thine own honor,
Nor leſs unworthy mine!
Oraſmyn.
Away with bonds—
For, ev'n were vows unknown, a noble ſoul
Would feel untold a fellow-ſuff'rer's ſorrows,
And blend ſelf-love with ſocial.—Why, oh! why
Were we born enemies?
ALONZO
—ſnatching his hand.
Ere yet we were,
Our finer tones of mind ſome guardian ſpirit
Touch'd into harmony; and, when we met,
Th' according ſtrings ſtruck forth a ſound ſo ſweet,
That heav'n itſelf might liſten! love! ev'n love,
That brand of diſcord, burns within our boſoms,
Pale—cold—before the ſteady flame of virtue!
Oraſmyn.
The camp alone is mine. Once in its diſtricts,
No human pow'r can reach thee. It were wiſe
To wait the hour that wafts thee o'er the river.
ORASMYN takes the Torch, and guides ALONZO out. HAMET, after a proper interval, deſcends, as lighting onward ALMEYDA.
Hamet.
We have been fortunate to 'ſcape thoſe ſlaves.—
—Tread careful, madam; here the ſtones are looſe.
ALMEYDA
[45]
—(deſcending.)
Thus on the ſoul breaks love's celeſtial light,
And chears, with many a lengthning ray, misfortune!
HAMET
—(ſtopping as ſhocked.)
—Theſe chains—this ſilence—Oh, unhappy moment!—
They were the aſſaſſins, then, who e'en now paſs'd us?—
—For your ſoul's ſake, and as you value reaſon,
Return at once, ſweet princeſs!
ALMEYDA
—(waving him away with ſcorn.)
Hence, rude man!
Wert thou Abdallah's ſelf, thou ſhould [...]ſt not ſ [...]ay me,
Thus near Alonzo—prithee love reprove him!
Hamet.
Alas!
ALMEYDA
(faintly and alarmed.)
Haſt thou deceiv'd me—or within,
Is there ſome yet more deep—more dreary den!
HAMET
(in a broken voice.)
There is indeed a deeper—where Almeyda,
Shall never hear her lover!—
Almeyda.
Never, ſaid'ſt thou?
Recall that fearful word; nor at this criſis
Pluck from my ſoul the laſt prop that ſuſtains it!
HAMET
(in agony.)
—Oh! that I could beguile myſelf, or thee!—
—Theſe are the very chains with which I bound him,
And this the chaſm (from whence the maſs of ſtone
By leavers has been rais'd) where through the rocks,
Full many a victim to the fears of ſtate,
Precipitated in the ruſhing torrent,
Has ſought an unknown grave—
ALMEYDA
(preſſing the chains to her boſom.)
Murder'd—loſt—
Wiſdom—nor ſtrength—nor valour then avail'd thee!
Hamet.
Oh prophet! ſhould ſhe die! infernal tyrant,
—To chuſe my only abſence for the murder—
—How is it, Madam!
ALMEYDA
[46]
(in a deep tone of deſpair.)
Ev'n as I would have it—
For that thy kindneſs meant to aid thy Queen
Take this—ſhe has no recompence to give,
(Looſens the jewel RAMIREZ gave her from her boſom, kiſſes it—wipes her eyes—ſurveys and gives it HAMET.)
—Nor ever now will have—begone and leave me—
Nor let one human eye pervade a ſorrow,
Too mighty for complaint!
HAMET
(ſoothing her.)
You will return?
Almeyda.
Return? You mean me well, nor will I chide—
But hence at once, and leave me to an anguiſh,
Which would not waſte itſelf in words, or tears,
But ſwell within and waſh away remembrance!
Hamet.
Oh! Madam, pardon him who dares not leave you.
Imagine the conjectures of the world,
If here you ſhould be found—
Almeyda.
My world is vaniſh'd!—
It was concentered in the ſpot he liv'd on,
And if it yet exiſts—'tis in his grave!
Hamet.
Think of Abdallah!—Can you fail to dread him?
Almeyda.
Who has nought to hope, has little ſure to fear—
—Add not a feather to the weight that preſſes
Upon this brain, and turns it into chaos!
—Go—ſhield thyſelf—and leave me to my fortune!
—Why wilt thou urge the parley?—and awake
The pride, the paſſion—loſt extinct—in horror?
Hamet.
—Yet be adviſed—ſweet Princeſs quit this place!
ALMEYDA
(preſſing her forehead vaguely.)
Wilt thou then kill me?
Hamet.
Rather would I ſave—
—Time will dry up theſe tears—reſtore your peace
And make you joy in ſafety—
ALMEYDA
[47]
(turning with horror to the Chaſm.)
Look there—look there!
Then talk to me of peace, of joy, of ſafety.—
Hamet.
The ſavage who dares wound his ſov'reign's heart,
Would lacerate each vein of wretched Hamet's—
For my ſake then, if not thine own, ſweet Queen,
Fly hence!—
ALMEYDA
(with increaſing delirium.)
Say'ſt thou to heav'n?
Hamet.
Alas! alas!
Her reaſon ſurely wanders! hark, I hear him.
—By all the nameleſs agonies you feel;
Oh! pity him, deſtroy'd by pitying you!
Almeyda.
Hence—hence—whoe'er you are—I will not go!
But reign for ever here!—ſupreme in ſorrow!
—The ſun no more ſhall viſit theſe ſad eyes,
Nor the wan moon preſent one ſoft reflection—
Winter no more ſhall chill—or ſummer warm me;
Nor innocence, nor heav'n itſelf ſupply,
One moment of delight!—but damp, cold drops,
Thus petrify my heart! and night eternal,
(ſhivering and looking up.)
Make vain the ſenſe of ſight!—now come, Abdallah,
Behold in me Alonzo's monument!
Hamet.
Abdallah comes indeed!—his voice reſounds!—
It grows upon my ear—one chance is mine—
—Could I regain the cleft that lately hid us,
He might paſs on—and I, in flight, find ſafety!
(He treads on the torch and flies haſtily.)
ALMEYDA
(in frenzy.)
How ſuddenly the night falls!—Oh, my heart!
Will no one knit thy looſen'd ſtrings, and ſtaunch
The vital blood yet flowing?—yes one hand—
—Ah! no—Ramirez, will to death abhor
Almeyda's fatal name!
Guards light in, and follow Abdallah.
Abdallah.
[48]
Are ye all in?
Now cloſe the gate; that no obtruſive eye,
No foot unbidden preſs upon my ſecret.
—So in the gulph with him, at once ſhall ſink
All knowledge of his fate!
ALMEYDA
(majeſtically.)
Who pierces thro'
The grave's deep ſilence, with a voice ſo loud,
Diſturbing my repoſe?
Abdallah.
Can it be her!
Amazement! and Alonzo gone!—Ah! vain,
Is every guard againſt that ſubtle ſex!
—She has found ſome ready villain to aſſiſt her,
And giv'n the Prince his freedom.—
ALMEYDA
(in a low anxious voice.)
Comes Ramirez?—
He comes to ſeek his ſon?—Ah! hapleſs monarch,
That name to him is nothing?—yet I'll hide
Theſe traces from his ſight—
She advances wildly, and fearfully looking back.
Abdallah.
How now, Almeyda?
This can be only frenzy—where's thy lover?
ALMEYDA
(laying her hand on his arm.)
Why doſt thou aſk Ramirez?—he's in Murcia—
Did not thy policy diſpoſe him there,
When fixed upon my ruin? Wretched Sire!
draws him aſide.
Fly from this den of death!—here broods a ſerpent,
Fatal to thee, and to thy race!—ev'n now,
Dozing upon this flinty floor, I dreamt—
—Oh! ſuch a dream I ſhudder but to name it!
Abdallah.
What dream Almeyda? I muſt ſoothe this tranſport,
If I would learn the truth—
Almeyda.
Nay never frown,
I ſpoke it unawares—but ſtrange, ſtrange viſions,
Still ſwim before theſe eyes!—yet not Alonzo—
—Tho' him alone I ſought. came to ſave,
[49]—Too late, alas! I came. Now thou wilt weep!
Or is thy brain, like mine, ſear'd up in lead?
She leans on the ſhoulder of a Guard.
Abdallah.
This is an incident ſo ſingular,
As out-runs fancy, and perplexes reaſon!
—Nature's exhauſted in her! Some dire truth
Lurks under all this myſtery and frenzy.
Guard.
My lord, behold the chains that bound the ſtranger.
Abdallah.
And who durſt take them off? Almeyda only!
—Yet where then is he vaniſh'd? Ah! if grief,
At witneſſing this woe, ſhould have impell'd him
At once to plunge into this yawning gulph!
How is't, Almeyda?
ALMEYDA
—(turning fondly to him.)
Heavy—ſtrangely heavy!
Guide of my youth! ſole partner in its ſorrows!
kiſſing his hand.
Abdallah.
Aſtoniſhing deluſion! Where's Alonzo?
Almeyda.
Did I not tell you of my horrid dream?
—Sleeping, juſt now, upon this flinty floor,
Ev'n from its ſolid baſe, I heard Alonzo,
Amid the ruſh of torrents—Me he call'd,
And ſhook the deep profound! My fond heart
It anſwer'd too—Oh! with ſuch eager throbs,
The long vibrations ſpread beyond this frame,
Almoſt into Eternity!—
ABDALLAH
(exultingly.)
Ev'n ſo!—
Thus have I the advantage, and not guilt.
Almeyda.
Soft! or Abdallah comes. Not ev'n you,
Warn'd as you were of all his ſelfiſh views,
Can gueſs at his barbarity! An uncle?—
Yet theſe dim eyes take pleaſure to behold thee!
The rav'nous vulture—blood-incited wolf,
Prey not, when diſappointed, on their ſpecies!
That pitch of cruelty was left for man.
—Nature convulſes at the bare idea,
Nor dares to ſnap the tie herſelf has form'd!
[50]—He thinks I'll take this tamely! No, Abdallah,
I will have ſuch revenge!—From thy black heart,
At once I'll pluck away its worldly veil,
And puniſh thee in mere ſincerity.
ABDALLAH
(fiercely.)
Thou ſhalt not live to do it, ſubtle traitreſs!
"I will be warn'd in time—For in theſe flights
"The ſoul's deep ſenſe full oft may be diſcover'd!
He ſurveys wiſtfully Almeyda, the Guards, and the Chaſm.
"—One moment might effect it! and that moment
"Inter with her all traces of the deed!
"—Further I'll try her.—Wilt thou not forgive
"Th' involuntary wrong?
Almeyda.
Whene'er I do,
"May Heav'n forget the wretch it now chaſtiſes!
Abdallah.
"Nay, then thou dieſt! nor pray'rs, nor
"tears, ſhall ſave thee.
"That word decides thy doom! Seize on her, ſtrait!
"Precipitate her inſtant down the gulph,
"And live the favored objects of my bounty!
"Almeyda.
Oh, that tremendous voice!—Where fled my ſenſes,
"That they acknowledged not yon ruthleſs ſavage?
"—Him before whom I was born but to tremble?
"Slaves, drag me not! Ye will not murder me?
"—Am I not reft of every good but being—
"A chearleſs being? Spare thy own remorſe,
"Nor crown the pile of thy enormous ſins
"With ſuch a helpleſs victim!
"Abdallah.
Vain are pray'rs,
"I have not ventur'd thus far, to recede!
"Nought but thy death can now aſſure my ſafety—
—Who's at the gate? Unbar it not, I charge you.
GUARD, opening the Gate.
The Prince Oraſmyn only.
Enter ORASMYN. (Almeyda flies to him.)
Oh, protect me!
Guard—ſave me—hide me in thy very heart!
Oraſmyn.
[51]
Ay, while it beats, ſweet flutt'rer! Good my lord,
What mean theſe haggard ſlaves, and this confuſion?
—How comes Almeyda here! Why thus afflicted?
Abdallah.
Born to make vain my cares, and croſs thy fortune,
Why art thou here? She, as thou ſeeſt, is frantic.
Oraſmyn.
Alla forbid! Speak, dear one!—Calm my fears.
Ah! tremble not—but ſpeak—
Almeyda.
Alonzo, ſurely!
I hear thee, love; but dare not, dare not look.—
Oraſmyn.
Of the vaſt hoſt of mental ills, ordain'd
To puniſh hapleſs man, the worſt has ſeiz'd her!
Alas! by my omiſſion! Dear Almeyda,
Calm thy perturbed ſoul, and look around!
Thy friends alone are near thee.
ALMEYDA,
Glancing around, ſhe buries her face in Oraſmyn's robe.
Oh, no!—no!
I ſee a fiend, who turns me into marble!
—But I am ſafe with thee! Thou ne'er wilt leave me,
My own Alonzo!
Abdallah.
Thus ſhe ſtill has rav'd.—
"Ev'n now, ſhe took me for Ramirez! Yet
"Thou mightſt improve this blindneſs—if thou'rt wiſe,
"Avail thyſelf of her fond fancy's error,
"And wed her ſtrait!
"Oraſmyn.
Wed her. Forbid it Alla!
"—Were reaſon perfect in her, this fond claſp
"I ſhould pronounce a bliſs more exquiſite,
"Than all in cold futurity!—But now,
"My heart recoils from her ſoft touch.
—Sweet ſuff'rer, raiſe thine eyes! within this circle
Give thy woes reſpite: For, from this ſad hour,
Ne'er ſhalt thou know another—if this heart,
This arm, hath pow'r to ſave thee!
Abdallah.
As thou wilt—
Thou know'ſt my mind!—Now be the choice thine own.
Exit; Guards follow.
Oraſmyn.
[52]
Oh, moſt unguarded!—Ere I ſav'd Alonzo,
I ſhould have warn'd this dear one of my purpoſe.
—How ſhall I now convince her? Oh! thoſe eyes.
More beauteous for their wildneſs, how they wander!
—Hear me, Almeyda! By the unſullied ſoul
Within this bleeding breaſt, thy lover lives—
—Alonzo lives!
Almeyda.
Ay; ſo I knew you'd tell me:
But ſpare the ſpecious tale. I know already—
I heard it from himſelf! Nay, nay, no more.
Oraſmyn.
Oh, agony! for human ſenſe too touching!
Yet how to wake again her recollection?
Almeyda! do'ſt thou know me?
ALMEYDA
(gazing vaguely on him.)
I know one,
One only, in the circle of creation,
And he is ſtrangely vaniſh'd!
Oraſmyn.
Yet he lives!
In ſafety lives.
Almeyda.
Within this heart, d'ye ſay?
Ay, there he lives, indeed, and ſhall for ever!
Oraſmyn.
Never can I forgive my own neglect!
For, oh, this [...]ight is dreadful! Yet Almeyda,
Thy own Alonzo lives,—like me, to weep.
Almeyda.
Yes; I have heard ſtrange tales—ye all have told me,
And ſeen ſuch diſmal ſights! I dare not ſpeak them!
—No matter—Time will clear all up.—I'm weary.
Oraſmyn.
Oh! let me lead you hence—
Almeyda.
Ev'n where you will.
And by that voice of comfort, you ſhould guide me
To my Alonzo's heaven.
"Oraſmyn.
Touching charmer!
"I dare not liſten more; leſt I, like thee,
"Grow out of love with reaſon, and delight
"Only to hear thy rhapſodies!
ſtarting, and looking through the pillars.
"Almeyda.
"More dungeons!
"Perhaps more murd'rers, too. Now ſhould they come,
"Exhauſted as I am, no pow'r could ſave me!
"Oh! they have ſtrength to wreſt one's very being!
[53]"Look at this arm.—
baring he [...].
Oraſmyn.
"The ſavage gripe has purpled
"The pureſt white pulſation ever throb'd in!
He ſtarts and wiſtfully ſurveys Almeyda and the chaſm.
"It cannot be! the fear is too tremendous!
"Abhorrent Nature, from a deed ſo black,
"Would ſhrink, 'till theſe high rocks, o'erarch'd by art,
"Sink to the center!—Oh! forgive the thought
"Thy own ambitious nature prompts, my father!
—Reſt on me, dear Almeyda! Near your chamber,
Faithful I'll watch the live-long night, and pray
It may breathe peace upon you. Pr'ythee lean!
Almeyda.
Soft! have a care, we tread not on his grave!
Somebody ſhew'd it me.—We're very near it.
Oraſmyn.
Oh! that ſuperior mind is gone for ever!
—Yet ſtill, thus ruin'd, like a broken mirror,
It gives a perfect image in each fragment!
Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The magnificent Hall with which the Play opens; and ſimilar Clouds, ſhewing again the Dawn of Morning.
ABDALLAH enters, finding ORASMYN muſing.
ABDALLAH.
HAST thou thus watch'd the night away, my ſon,
Regardleſs of the common dues of nature?
—The day will come, when thou'lt regret in vain,
This laviſh waſte alike of health and feeling!
And why thus ſtrictly-guard a maniac?
—Who will aſſail Almeyda?
Oraſmyn.
[54]
Who will ſoothe her?
—It is among the fatal rights of rank
To want all common bleſſings! Never more,
Alas! ſhall this ſweet viſionary find them.
Abdallah.
Has, then, her frenzy known no interval,
And the long night elapſed in reſtleſs ravings?
Oraſmyn.
Th' inventive evil took ſuch various forms
As fancy ſcarce could follow—pauſing often
In vacant ſilence, or in ſpeechleſs anguiſh!
—Anon, more muſical than the lone bird,
Who pours her ſorrows to the midnight moon,
She waked the drowſy night! Oft the wild ſtrain
Soar'd ev'n to Heav'n—As oft it died away,—
Like the uncertain ſweetneſs of that harp,
The light breeze ſoftly touches!
Abdallah.
Thoughts like theſe,
Will undermine the firmneſs of thy nature.—
Oraſmyn! as thou lov'ſt me, ſhake them off!
Thou art the better part of my exiſtence;
And when thou droop'ſt I ſink.
Oraſmyn.
At once to ſee,
The flow'r of nature in the morning wither!
Ev'n while my ſenſes ached at its perfection!—
Abdallah.
How wiſe—how gen'rous were thoſe laviſh tears,
Could ſympathy reſtore the hapleſs ſuff'rer!
But other duties call thee into action.—
Time will not with thee watch Almeyda's frenzy,
Nor the great wheel of empire ceaſe its motion—
Thy hand muſt guide it.
Oraſmyn.
Empire! ſaid my father?
—Shall I uſurp Almeyda's royal ſeat?
Grow great by her misfortune! Rather bid me
Dig at her feet the grave ſhe wildly calls for,
And fill it undiſhonor'd! Oh! no more.
I would not underſtand you!
Abdallah.
Say thou wilt not,
And I am anſwer'd.—Weak, romantick boy!
Loiter thy life away upon her threſhold!
Renounce thy ſire, thy rank, thy name in arms,
[55]The golden wreath already hov'ring o'er thee,
And live a lover only!
Oraſmyn.
Live to honour!
To that quick ſenſe, which, ſtriking at the heart,
Damns, ev'n on earth, the guilty! Oh, beware!
And dread, in time, to know the dire pulſation!
Abdallah.
Dar'ſt thou ſuppoſe it?
Oraſmyn.
The mere thought was treaſon!
—Yet, a calamity ſo ſudden, ſpeaks
Some known, yet latent cauſe.—
Abdallah.
I heed thee well—
And feel, ungrateful ſon! through ev'ry fibre,
The yet unſpoken cenſure! But yet, remember,
Had I more crimes than thoughts, 'tis thou haſt caus'd them!
—Judge, then, what paſſes here, when thus I learn
Thou dar'ſt deſpiſe my views, my pow'r—my perſon!
Exit, into the Queen's apartment.
Oraſmyn.
Stay, leave me not in wrath!—forgive, my father,
A heart ev'n burſting with conflicting paſſions!
—If I have injur'd!—'Tis, alas, too much,
To ſhock his nature with the black ſuſpicion!
Enter ABDALLAH again.
—My father, I have err'd!—Oh! deign to pity
Him, who, thus agoniz'd with doubt and fear,
Finds no pow'r perfect but unſhaken honour!
And that pure pride he'll cheriſh, unto death.
—No vain—no ſelfiſh—no ambitious thought,
Shall ever tempt me, ev'n in thought, to wrong
That hapleſs ſov'reign I have ſworn to guard!
The vow yet lives, unchill'd, upon your lips!
And, oh, her mis'ry doubly ſhould enforce it!—
Recal your honour!—Love me in Almeyda!
Exit.
Abdallah.
'Tis well. This black ingratitude has ſteel'd me!
—Cheriſh thy inſolence of pride—Thou'lt need it.
Have I, then, liv'd for thee in vain, Oraſmyn?
—A girl, by one ſoft glance, annihilates
Thoſe rights a life of fondneſs ſhould have gain'd me!
—Haſt thou forgot thy father's heir Granada,
[56]Regardleſs of thy ſcruples, or thy choice?
—Ev'n now the golden circlet binds my brow,
And in Abdallah henceforth know thy king!
—I have diſpos [...]d the Council to believe,
Her frenzy conſtitutional. This hour,
Her hand unconſcious might reſign her crown,
Then never, never, need ſhe ſee Granada.
Enter NOURASSIN.
Nouraſſin.
The Council waits, my lord, your wiſh'd
for preſence.
—How fares our hapleſs ſov'reign?
Abdallah.
Loſt in frenzy—
With vacant eye, ev'n now, ſhe gaz'd upon me,
But knew nor voice, nor feature!—
Nouraſſin.
'Tis too plain—
The malady's habitual! Thoſe ſtarts
Ev'n as we hail'd her glad return, beſpoke
A ſtrange diſtraction, or ſome buried paſſion.
—Caſtile, with matchleſs policy, has kept
The mournful ſecret, 'till, the advantage gain'd,
With pomp he gave us back the gorgeous caſket,
Nor own'd the gem was vaniſh'd.—
Abdallah.
Are the Council
So ſatisfied?
Nouraſſin.
Not one diſſents, my lord.
Abdallah.
Why then ſhould we delay the abdication?
A form alone is wanting; and her hand,
Unfit to govern, may with eaſe be led,
To delegate that pow'r our laws deny her.
—Perchance, in the next tranſport of her frenzy,
No human pow'r may move her.—
Nouraſſin.
It were wiſe,
Since to the nation we muſt vouch this truth,
To lead her forth, and ſummon in the Council.
Abdallah.
Haſte, then, my friend! Conduct Almeyda hither.
Exit Nouraſſin.

SCENE II.

[57]
The Council aſſemble round the Canopy of State. ALMEYDA is led on, veiled; ſhe draws the veil at length aſide, and, looking majeſtically around, ſpeaks.
Almeyda.
When late I cloſed theſe lips, I fully purpoſed,
Never again to break the awful ſilence,
Or view the light of Heav'n, or face of man.—
Why then am I dragg'd forth, a ſpectacle?
What cruel eye would dive into this heart—
This broken heart, to mark the early ravage?
I wither in the ſun—chill in the breeze;
Yet the ſun runs his wonted courſe in glory!
The vernal breeze invigorates the world!
And all the change is here!
preſſing her heart.
"ABDALLAH.
(ſoothingly)
"Lamenting ſtill?
"Alas! that ſuch a beauteous form ſhould prove
"Only the ſoul's ſad ſepulchre! Yet oft,
"In woman, (mutable in all beſide)
"Love fixes ev'n to frenzy!
"ALMEYDA
(replying to an imaginary queſtion.)
"Idle queſtion!
"Why did I love? As well might you demand,
"Why I ſaw light!—why waked my ſoul to knowledge?
"Like light—like knowledge, in my infant ſenſe,
"Sunk imperceptible the tender impulſe!
"—Alonzo firſt partook each little care,
"And doubled ev'ry joy! Ah, dear were both,
"While crowns and ſceptres yet were idle playthings!
"Abdallah.
Inventive malady, which wounds yet
"charms us!
"
(aſide)
There is too much of method in this frenzy.
"Would I had never truſted the event!
"ALMEYDA
[58]
(appearing to liſten, and trembling.)
"Hold—hide me! Save me from this inward horror!
"—Hark! hear ye not the murd'rers feet approaching?
"—That death-devoting voice! Ev'n now they come—
"They ruſh upon my love!—Oh! ſpare him, ſpare him!
"—Dar'ſt thou, inhuman?—He's a monarch's heir!
"Off, ruffians! nor profane that gallant form—
"Oh! for a giant's arm, to wreſt him from you!
"—Now, now, the ſteep rocks echo with his fall,
"And the rude ſurge entombs him!—Oh, Alonzo!
"Abdallah.
Ever Alonzo! He is all her cry.—
"Nouraſſin.
Recal your erring ſenſe, unhappy princeſs!
"Nor dwell for ever on theſe gloomy fictions.—
"Almeyda.
Away, away!—nor venture to conſole me—
"—Thou haſt not known to blend thy heart with his,
"In faith indiſſoluble, and true paſſion—
"I was that wretch—the viſited of Heav'n!—
"But, oh! the dire proportion of my mis'ry!—
"—Still muſt I ſeek him on the river's brink:
"Of ſeaſons—time—of heat—of cold, regardleſs!
"—Or do I err; or does the ſurge return him?
"Swoln—maim'd, defac'd! no charm—no grace is left,
"Of all fond fancy worſhipp'd.—Scarce my heart,
"In this disfigured corſe, can know Alonzo!
"—Turn, hapleſs father! turn thine eyes away,
"Nor [...] the dreadful ſecret! Oh, that I,
"Like you, could hope a little while his coming,
"—Start at his fancied footſtep—hear his voice,
"And die, at laſt, in bleſſed, bleſſed ignorance!
"Abdallah.
"Mark, how this wildneſs ſhakes her!—
In ſuch tranſport
"She cannot yield the crown.
Nouraſſin.
"Yet will we try her.
—Thoſe faithful ſubjects, who but pray'd to paſs,
Beneath Almeyda's ſway, their years in peace,
Behold, with grief, the malady that ſhakes
Her nobler faculties; they ſupplicate
That ſhe to abler hands reſign her pow'r,
And in retirement ſoothe her ſoul's ſoft ſorrows.
Almeyda.
[59]
—Soft! give me time to breathe.—A moment's thought.—
They tender her the Regalia.
Th' imperial wreath, with which, in one ſhort day,
Theſe throbbing temples have been overweigh'd,
I unregretting yield.—Thou gaudy emblem
Laying her hand on the Crown.
Of nature's ample round! In thy ſmall circle
Lies all that man deſires, and, oh! much more
Than man can e'er enjoy, unleſs he finds
Heav'ns own ſupreme delight the bliſs of bleſſing!
How haſt thou mark'd my fate with endleſs horror!
—Hence, from my dim eyes, take the brilliant evil,
And gives the promis'd ſolitude!
Nouraſſin.
Our laws,
With your own hand, require you to reſign it,
To this your heir.—
Almeyda.
To him! Oh, horrible!
—Kill me, but ſhew not to my eyes that monſter!
—Shakes not the earth beneath his bloody feet?
And ſleeps in peace the thunder?
Abdallah.
Alas! alas!
You ſee ſhe knows me not!
Almeyda.
Oh! would I did not!
Is there no help? Alas, I'm at his mercy!
His mercy, ſaid I? 'Tis a word he knows not.
—But, pray you, call no murd'rers—I will die,
Without one ſtruggle—only have a grave
May decently receive me, when my heart
Completes his crimes, and burſts with this convulſion!
Abdallah.
The ſtrong neceſſity o'er-rules all form!
—I muſt aſſume that crown ſhe neither knows,
Duly, to wear or yield!—
Nouraſſin.
Yet ſtay, my lord,
This is mere malady—She may be won.
Almeyda.
Oh, mem'ry! thou return'ſt in all thy horrors!—
—Alas I am not mad, but miſerable!
—Pity this anguiſh—pauſe, oh pauſe, one moment!
And from the fearful height where reaſon totters,
Ready to plunge into the bright obſcure,
[60]Yet give me leiſure ſlowly to recall her!
—Awful ſupreme, ſupport me! thou who know'ſt.
Al I have ſuffer'd! all I yet muſt ſuffer!
Suſpend this cruel ſenſe of my misfortunes!
—Expunge the woman from this bleeding boſom;
Oh fill it wholly with thoſe nobler duties,
Which ſupercede ev'n ſelf, and awe at once
Each human grief to ſilence!
Abdallah.
Wherefore gaze ye?
—This is a frenzy equals ev'n her own!
"—Like the wild fires of the conflicting elements,
"Theſe flaſhes of the ſoul, oft break the night,
"The long, long, night, which falls thus on a maniac."
Nouraſſin.
Yet hear the Queen, Abdallah—her diſcourſe,
Sounds not like frenzy!
Almeyda.
Rather truth, and reaſon
—My diſmal fate's accompliſh'd!—Man nor Heav'n,
Can mitigate its horrors!—yet for you,
For you, unvers'd in ſuff'ring, ſtill I feel—
Nor dare I delegate the pow'r I hold,
To him I know incapable of pity—
—To him, who would perpetuate, and extend,
The miſeries I ever muſt groan under!
ABDALLAH
(in a tranſport of rage).
Fool'd—fool'd at laſt! 'tis well—I have deſerv'd it,
In truſting to a woman—
Almeyda.
Ye, who hear me,
Know all the merit of this painful effort!
—For you I yet will live—for you will reign,—
And tho' my ſecret ſoul ſhall ſeek the grave,
Ev'n to the hour that gives me to Alonzo,
Yet ſhall the ling'ring interval be mark'd,
By many an act of equity, and honor—
—I here deliberately impeach Abdallah,
Of blackeſt treaſon to his lawful ſov'reign!
—To crown his ſins a nobler victim fell!
Oh! deed too horrible for thought!—Oh deed!
Which ear hath never heard, nor voice yet utter'd!
Abdallah.
[61]
Spare all thy eloquence! and this recital!
—The evil thou'ſt eſcap'd, now ſeizes me,
And makes my brain, like my wild ſoul, one chaos!
—I do avow the intent, ev'n of that deed,
Tho' of the fact I'm guiltleſs—yet I'll try,
Thus to deſerve thy charge!—
Nouraſſin.
Seize on his ſword!
he is diſarm'd.
ORASMYN
enters and draws to guard his father.
How now? Preſumptuous man!
Almeyda.
Ah! he too here!
For me there is nor juſtice then, nor hope!
ABDALLAH
(gaſping on the ſhoulder of his ſon.)
Oraſmyn! thou hadſt nearly loſt a father!
—No proud Almeyda!
For thee alone I liv'd not! hadſt thou ſeen
No more than I intended for thy knowledge,
Thou hadſt been happy!—happy with Oraſmyn!
I would have giv'n thee him—my life's beſt hope,
In whom I centre all my pride—my glory!
—Yet at this awful criſis of exiſtence,
No more will I diſſemble my true motive!
—To crown his youthful brow with that bright wreath
Injurious fortune bade him only look on,
Has been the ſingle object of my life!
Oraſmyn.
He ſcorns the gift—nor thinks he hears a father.
—Recall your better ſelf, and calm this tranſport
Almeyda.
This artifice, Oraſmyn, is too late—
—Rather act like him—own the glorious ſin,
And ſtill preſerve one merit in thy candour!
Oraſmyn.
How? how have I deſerved the bitter taunt?
How wrong'd my ſov'reign ev'n in ſecret thought?
"Or dared obtrude one ſelfiſh view before her?
"—If in this hour of wildneſs, and confuſion,
"I joy to ſee her renovated reaſon;
"Proud to confirm her pow'r, to guard her perſon,
[62]"—If this be treaſon, purify my heart—
"—To thee I render gladly up the ſword,
"Upon whoſe point no blood ere yet congeal'd,
"Save of thy foes!"
Almeyda.
"Long, long, with glory wear it—
"—I bluſh to have aſperſ'd a ſoul ſo noble."
ABDALLAH
(ſcornfully ſurveying him.)
Thou traitor to thyſelf!—my ſoul diſclaims thee!
Thou haſt foredoom'd thy ſire, by baſely bowing
Thus to thy heart's fond minion!—hence, and leave me.
Oraſmyn.
Ne'er can he err, whoſe monitor is virtue!
Revere her awful pow'r, which ſaves at once,
Thy life my father—ſweet Almeyda's reaſon,
And ev'n Oraſmyn's honour—fly to the gate,
And guide Alonzo hither—oh recall
The laſt fond hope that beat within thy heart,
Ere yet its darling object vaniſh'd from thee!
(Gives a ring to an attendant who departs.)
ALMEYDA
(faint and trembling.)
Dread to awake the thought—loſt! loſt! and murder'd!
Oraſmyn.
The grave itſelf, has render'd up, ere now
A guiltleſs inmate!—
Almeyda.
Does my ſenſe deceive me?
—Is he not dead—repeat that little ſentence—
Let my ſoul live one moment on the hope,
And take, each envied enſign of dominion—
—For could I crown thee with the radiant gems,
That ſprinkle o'er the blue expanſe above,
'Twere recompence too poor!—but, oh! I fear,
I fear, thou trifled with my heart's fond anguiſh!
—Drawn a gay meteor o'er my gloomy fate,
Which only ſhews its blackneſs!
Oraſmyn.
"—To appearance—
Almeyda.
"Appearance, ſaidſt thou?—Think, ere
"yet again
"One breath eſcape thee, on the verge of being
"My ſoul now hovers, and a ſingle word
[63]"May make her quite immortal!
Oraſmyn.
If to know
Alonzo lives, can crown thy days with pleaſure,
Be happy, ever happy!—for I ſaved
The only lover I was born to envy!
(She looks doubtfully, then ſinks fainting in his arms.)
Abdallah.
This is a folly that tranſcends example!
—Oh! for a pang at once to pierce them both!
Oraſmyn.
Her life ſeems gone—ſoft—bend her gently forward.
Abdallah.
And hop'ſt thou then, ungrateful boy, to
ſave her?
Oraſmyn.
Wake not within my ſoul a thought ſo killing?
—Call ev'ry aid—
Abdallah.
Forbear the uſeleſs trouble—
'Tis not in medicine to prolong her being—
A ſubtle poiſon ſleeps in ev'ry pore,
And ſteals her from herſelf—no human art,
Can bid her breathe one hour!
ORASMYN
(throwing himſelf in an agony at her feet)
Thou injur'd angel!
Could the life-blood congealing in theſe veins,
Extend thy years, and give thee all thy wiſhes;
Ev'n with the fierceneſs of that fatal ſavage,
I dare not call my father, would I gaſh
Each purple artery, and urge the current!—
—Thou gav'ſt me being!—tho' my ſoul abhors,
The tainted bleſſing! yet to thee I turn,
In this tremendous moment!—hear, and pity!
Blot not at once thy honour, nor defame,
E're yet he ſoar to glory, that loved ſon,
Who ne'er till now offended.—
Abdallah.
"Need'ſt thou learn,
"I do not eaſily fix my decrees,
"But never know to change them.—
Almeyda.
"Why, Oraſmyn,
"Wilt thou thus plead for the poor life I heed not?
—Life, the frail bloſſom of eternity!
[64]"Which ſhrinks and ſhivers, in the vernal breeze,
"And ſheds its purple bloom with ev'ry ſhow'r—
"Until the embryo fruit, arrived at fullneſs,
"Shakes its ſoft ſhelter to the duſt?—Moſt happy,
"Who ripen firſt! and quit this mortal coil,
"Unblighted, and unbroken!"
Oraſmyn.
"Is it thus,
"Celeſtial ſpirit! thus, thou'dſt give me comfort?
"Oh! more we need thy example, than thy precepts!
"My father! have I then no influence with thee?
Long haſt thou ſtudied nature's baleful ſecrets,
And well thou know'ſt their antidotes—
ABDALLAH
(with bitterneſs.)
But thou,
Again perhaps would'ſt ſcorn the tainted gift,
Again deſpiſe the giver!
Oraſmyn.
Oh! my father!
To this, how little were the life I owe you!
Abdallah.
I have not been accuſtomed to deny thee—
(Gives a ring to an attendant, who goes out.)
ORASMYN
(turning with ſoftneſs to Almeyda.)
"How often did I tell thee I had ſaved him!
"Ev'n when thy reaſon, like a frighted bird,
"Forſook the home round which it fondly flutter'd!
"—Yet, oh Almeyda! not in vain thou'ſt ſuffer'd!
"That fatal paſſion which thy beauty cauſed,
"By all theſe miſeries chaſtized to friendſhip,
"Retains its eſſence only, and appears,
"Like the cold luſtre of a winter ſun,
"When all its glow, and purple vapors faded!
Abdallah.
To her devoted, he nor hears, nor ſees me—
Ah! ſhould he dare deſpiſe—Oh Mahomet!
To be the ſcorn of thoſe for whom we ſin—
—This, this, is diſappointment's conſummation.
(Attendant brings him a goblet.)
Oraſmyn, from the memorable hour,
Thy voice firſt hail'd me ſire, ev'n unto this
[65]I've granted all thy pray'rs!
The good I wiſh myſelf, be thine Almeyda!
I taſte the draught, that thou may'ſt fearleſs ſhare it!
ORASMYN
(preſenting the bowl.)
Oh! do not heſitate a ſingle moment.
"Hardly can I reſpire with apprehenſion—
ALMEYDA
(fainting.)
"If this be death, how falſely do we fear it!
"Care, pain, and ſorrow, fade before the calm,
"The holy calm o'er-ſhadowing ev'ry ſenſe!—
—Methinks, without a crime, at once to 'ſcape,
The dreadful paſt, and all the doubtful future,
Were to accompliſh early life's great purpoſe!
Oraſmyn.
Oh! ſpare me all the guilt, the grief,—the horror,
Live, ſweet Almeyda, live, tho' for another!
Almeyda.
Oh! that this potent eſſence were compounded,
Of herbs might purify alike the ſoul,
And lull it to a deep, a long repoſe.—
Drinks the antidote.
Abdallah.
Oh, tranſport! glory! Oh! tremendous triumph!
Sons may forget, but Mahomet remembers!
He has not ſcorn'd my pray'r, nor quite renounc'd me
—Prophetic was thy voice; for thou ſhalt find
A long repoſe indeed! This was the poiſon
Which I with an indignant pleaſure ſhared—
—I had, alas! no other means to die:
Nor would I fall inglorious—unlamented.—
—Almeyda, proud Almeyda! ev'n thy love,
In all the plenitude of rank and beauty,
Shall grace my obſequies! and thou, ungrateful!
Attend us, a true mourner.
Oraſmyn.
Speech is loſt!—
—A deed like this burſts the great chord of nature,
And makes this gorgeous world but one vaſt ruin!
Abdallah.
Already do I feel the ſubtle eſſence—
It rages onward, like the fires of Etna,
[66]And nature withers ere it yet approaches.—
—Ah! ſhe too ſinks. Upon the lip of beauty!
Mortality now lays his livid finger!
—This—This is glorious miſchief! and I joy
To die, the moment life has loſt its value.
Oraſmyn.
But thus to blend me in ſo black a deed—
—Make me the miniſter of my own deſtruction!
Oh! I have, guiltleſs, cropt creation's roſe,
And ſhook its crimſon glories to the duſt!
—Liſt not thoſe gracious eyes again to me,
Thou ſoft perfection! I no more dare meet them.
—No, never dare I hope thou ſhouldſt forgive
Th' unparallel'd credulity!—and he
Yet, nature, yet thou wring'ſt me!
ABDALLAH
(fiercely ſhaking him off.)
Hence! begone—
[...]awn on thy minion! but no more approach
The ſire thou haſt diſgrac'd—betray'd—abandon'd!
—Ev'n as I lov'd thee once, ſo now I loathe thee!
Oh! how I long to ſhut out life itſelf,
Since I with life can ſhut out thy rememb'rance!
—Bear me, I pray you, to the Guadalquiver—
turns to the attendants.
Plunge, plunge me in at once! My liver's calcined!
—Oh, find ſome ſudden means to quench this fire,
Ere yet my eye-ſtrings crack!—Away, Away!
Abdallah is borne off.
Almeyda.
Yet, yet, he comes not!—Oh! no more
theſe eyes
Shall dwell delighted on their only object;
Nor this fond heart pronounce its laſt adieu!
turns and ſees Oraſmyn's bitter grief.
"Take comfort, prince!—Tho' ſmall is my own portion,
"Yet will I ſhare it with thee! For thy ſire,
"May Heav'n, like me, forgive him!
Oraſmyn.
"Spotleſs victim!
"His vices have cut ſhort his being here—
"But, oh! thy virtues ſpeak his future fate.
ALMEYDA
[67]
(growing more weak.)
"Among the many wand'rers on this earth,
"Few are allow'd to reach the mortal term:
"And of thoſe few, ſcarce one expires content.
"—The mind's deep agonies exhauſt each pow'r,
"And early fit the frame for diſſolution—
"I only feel a numbneſs." Hark! I hear him.
Oraſmyn.
It is thy love! Ah, happy he! to know
The pangs of ſorrow only.
ALONZO
(entering.)
Bleſt be Heav'n!
Which gives me once again to ſee Almeyda!
—And bleſt be, too, Oraſmyn!
ALMEYDA
(leaning fondly over him.)
Tis thyſelf!—
My own Alonzo!—all my ſoul's fond treaſure!
"Thus on the dying eyes of [...]ome lone hermit,
"O'erhanging angels pour a flood of glory,
"Ev'n till his ſoul exhales in extaſy!
Alonzo.
Ah! why this mournful ſweetneſs? In thine eye
The living luſtre fades; and on thy cheek
Each charm grows wan and hollow!
ORASMYN.
(wringing his hand.)
Oh, Alonzo!
No more muſt we contend for this rich prize!
Heav'n claims its own—and we alike muſt mourn.
ALONZO
(ſhaking him off.)
Prince! if thou'ſt done this deed—
Almeyda
Oh! never think it—
Oraſmyn's gen'rous heart is virtue's temple!
Alonzo, dear Alonzo! honour—love him.
Much wilt thou owe him for my mean injuſtice.
—I only ſtrove for life till thou wert near.—
It now evaporates: Hardly ſpeech is left me.
"—I charge ye, ne'er with blood defile the tomb,
"Which the true tears of both may nobly hallow.
[68]—And now, indeed, farewel!—A hand for each.
This gives away my crown; and this, oh! this,
The faithful heart that's in it!—I am cold;
And theſe dim eyes ſeek vainly for Alonzo!
—Speak to me, love!—Oh! ſpeak to me, once more,
While yet I know that voice—!
Alonzo.
Loſt in a chaos
Of killing anguiſh, without one expreſſion
May eaſe this lab'ring heart, how ſhall I ſoothe thee?
How mitigate thy pain?
Almeyda.
Tell me you love me—
Lays her head on his hand, and dies.
Alonzo.
Love you!—Oh, God!—
Oraſmyn.
Kiſſing and reſigning her hand.
Words—vows—weak, vain indulgence!
Never—Oh! never ſhall my ſoul forget you!
Both lovers remain mourning near her.
HAMET
(advancing).
Tremendous moment! awful pauſe of being!
—When viewing thus the abdicated frame,
Where the fond ſoul had treaſur'd all her wiſhes,
How does recoiling Nature feel at once
Her imperfection. Yet ſuch ſcenes alone
Can ſhew the danger of thoſe cheriſh'd paſſions,
Which thus can antedate the hour of death,
[...] make exiſtence agony!

Appendix A EPILOGUE.

[]
To be ſpoken in a Crier's Gown, and with a Bell.
OYEZ! Oyez! Oyez!
Whereas on demand it doth plainly appear,
That ſome wicked wag.—Odſo! how came I here?
What a blund'ring is this! One would think I were blind.
Here I'm got on before, when I ſhould be behind.
—Rare work, there, my friends! rare ſtorming and fury.
No Epilogue's coming to-night, I aſſure you!—
Sure never poor author like ours has been croſt:
When meant to be ſpoken, ſhe found it was loſt.
Loſt, Ma'am, ſays the prompter, all pale at the ſound!
Loſt, Ma'am, do you ſay? was re-echoed around,—
Loſt—ſtol'n, ſhe replied; 'tis in vain to deny it;
So dear Mr. KING, be ſo good as to cry it.
The thought was an odd one, you'll ſay—ſo did I:
But when ladies intreat, we are bound to comply.
Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!
Rings the bell again.
Be it known,
To all it concerns, Wit, Critick, or Town,
That whoe'er brings it back ſhall receive, beſides praiſe,
A handſome reward of a crown too of bays;
Whereas, if detain'd, heavy law-ſuits will follow,
And damage be ſued for, in court of Apollo.
Rare menaces theſe! you ſee how it ſtands—
She'll indite you all round; ſo up with your hands,
I'll examine each face, too—In truth, a fine ſhow.—
Whom firſt ſhall I try? Oh! my friends here below.
The Box claim precedence: but there I've my fears;
Perhaps they'll demand to be tried by their peers.
Yet methinks, when I view the fair circle around,
I'm in hopes they'll not aſk for what cannot be found.
An Epilogue ſtol'n, cries Old Cruſty, out yonder!
Pointing to the Pit.
A fine prize, indeed! who ſhould ſteal it I wonder?
He, ſurely, muſt be a ſtrange dolt, who conteſted
A bill on Parnaſſus, ſo often proteſted.—
[]Nay, Sirs, 'tis a loſs; ſo pray ye, don't flout it.—
Good or bad, [...] all, and we can't do without it.
Yet, in ſearch of our ſtray, I'll e'en now look elſewhere.
There's no wit [...], I'm ſure, ſo it cannot be there.
—Higher up, then—Hey—what—Nay, come, I'll not
wrong ye.
To the Galleries.
Not one roguiſh face can I ſpy out among ye;
But ſound hearts and ſound heads, with too great a ſtore
Of mirth in yourſelves, to ſteal from the poor.
All good men and true. So I give up the cauſe.
And ſince, then, our Bard can't bring you to the laws,
Ev'n let her be the Culprit, and ſteal—your applauſe.
God ſave the King!
Rings the Bell, and exit.
FINIS.
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Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 3831 Almeyda Queen of Granada A tragedy in five acts By Sophia Lee As performed at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-6213-0