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_Zan._ Indeed! [_aside_]--Our innocence is not our shield.
They take offence, who have not been offended; They seek our ruin too, who speak us fair, And death is often ambush'd in their smiles.
'Tis certain A letter may be forg'd, and in a point Of such a dreadful consequence as this, One would rely on nought that might be false-- Think, have you any other cause to doubt her?
Away, you can find none. Resume your spirit; All's well again.
_Alon._ Oh that it were!
_Zan._ It is; For who could credit that, which, credited, Makes h.e.l.l superfluous by superior pains, Without such proofs as cannot be withstood?
Has she not ever been to virtue train'd?
Is not her fame as spotless as the sun, Her s.e.x's envy, and the boast of Spain?
_Alon._ O, Zanga! it is that confounds me most, That, full in opposition to appearance--
_Zan._ No more, my lord, for you condemn yourself.
What is absurdity, but to believe Against appearance!--You can't yet, I find, Subdue your pa.s.sion to your better sense;-- And, truth to tell, it does not much displease me.
'Tis fit our indiscretions should be check'd With some degree of pain.
_Alon._ What indiscretion?
_Zan._ Come, you must bear to hear your faults from me.
Had you not sent don Carlos to the court The night before the battle, that foul slave, Who forg'd the senseless scroll which gives you pain, Had wanted footing for his villany.
_Alon._ I sent him not.
_Zan._ Not send him!--Ha!--That strikes me.
I thought he came on message to the king.
Is there another cause could justify His shunning danger, and the promis'd fight?
But I perhaps may think too rigidly; So long an absence, and impatient love--
_Alon._ In my confusion, that had quite escap'd me.
By heaven, my wounded soul does bleed afresh; 'Tis clear as day--for Carlos is so brave, He lives not but on fame, he hunts for danger, And is enamour'd of the face of death.
How then could he decline the next day's battle, But for the transports?--Oh, it must be so-- Inhuman! by the loss of his own honour, To buy the ruin of his friend!
_Zan._ You wrong him; He knew not of your love.
_Alon._ Ha!--
_Zan._ That stings home. [_aside._
_Alon._ Indeed, he knew not of my treacherous love-- Proofs rise on proofs, and still the last the strongest.
Love is my torture, love was first my crime; For she was his, my friend's, and he (O horror!) Confided all in me. O sacred faith!
How dearly I abide thy violation!
_Zan._ Were then their loves far gone?
_Alon._ The father's will There bore a total sway; and he, as soon As news arriv'd that Carlos' fleet was seen From off our coast, fir'd with the love of gold, Determin'd that the very sun which saw Carlos' return, should see his daughter wed.
_Zan._ Indeed, my lord; then you must pardon me, If I presume to mitigate the crime.
Consider, strong allurements soften guilt; Long was his absence, ardent was his love, At midnight his return, the next day destin'd For his espousals--'twas a strong temptation.
_Alon._ Temptation!
_Zan._ 'Twas but gaining of one night.
_Alon._ One night!
_Zan._ That crime could ne'er return again.
_Alon._ Again! By heaven, thou dost insult thy lord.
Temptation! One night gain'd! O stings and death!
And am I then undone? Alas, my Zanga!
And dost thou own it too? Deny it still, And rescue me one moment from distraction.
_Zan._ My lord, I hope the best.
_Alon._ False, foolish hope, thou know'st it false; It is as glaring as the noon-tide sun.
Devil!--This morning, after three years' coldness, To rush at once into a pa.s.sion for me!
'Twas time to feign, 'twas time to get another, When her first fool was sated with her beauties.
_Zan._ What says my lord? Did Leonora then Never before disclose her pa.s.sion for you?
_Alon._ Never.
_Zan._ Throughout the whole three years?
_Alon._ O never! never!
Why, Zanga, shouldst thou strive? 'Tis all in vain: Though thy soul labours, it can find no reed For hope to catch at. Ah! I'm plunging down Ten thousand thousand fathoms in despair.
_Zan._ Hold, sir, I'll break your fall--wave ev'ry fear, And be a man again--Had he enjoy'd her, Be most a.s.sur'd, he had resign'd her to you With less reluctance.
_Alon._ Ha! Resign'd her to me!-- Resign her!--Who resign'd her?--Double death!
How could I doubt so long? My heart is broke.
First love her to distraction! then resign her!
_Zan._ But was it not with utmost agony?
_Alon._ Grant that, he still resign'd her; that's enough.
Would he pluck out his eye to give it me?
Tear out his heart?--She was his heart no more-- Nor was it with reluctance he resign'd her; By heav'n, he ask'd, he courted, me to wed.
I thought it strange; 'tis now no longer so.
_Zan._ Was't his request? Are you right sure of that?
I fear the letter was not all a tale.
_Alon._ A tale! There's proof equivalent to sight.
_Zan._ I should distrust my sight on this occasion.
_Alon._ And so should I; by heav'n, I think I should.