As you have left the lightning of your eye,
So would you please to lay your thunder by. Almanz. I'm pleas'd and pain'd, since first her eyes I saw, As I were stung with some tarantula:
Arms and the dusty field I less admire, And soften strangely in some new desire. Honour burns in me not so fiercely bright,
But pale as fires when master'd by the light. Ev'n while I speak and look, I change yet more; And now am nothing that I was before.
I'm numb'd, and fix'd, and scarce my eyeballs move; I fear it is the lethargy of love!
'Tis he; I feel him now in ev'ry part:
Like a new lord he vaunts about my heart, Surveys in state each corner of my breast, While poor fierce I, that was, am dispossess'd. I'm bound; but I will rouse my rage again: And though no hope of liberty remain, I'll fright my keeper when I shake my chain. You are
Almah. I know I am your captive, sir. Almanz. You are
scarce forbear
Almah. Alas!
Almanz. 'Tis all in vain; it will not do: I cannot now a seeming anger show; My tongue against my heart no aid affords, For love still rises up, and chokes my words.
Almah. In half this time a tempest would be still. Almanz. 'Tis you have rais'd that tempest in my will.
I wo' not love you, give me back my heart; But give it as you had it, fierce and brave; It was not made to be a woman's slave: But, lion-like, has been in deserts bred; And, us'd to range, will ne'er be tamely led. Restore its freedom to my fetter'd will, And then I shall have pow'r to use you ill.
Almanz. Good Heav'n, thy book of fate before me lay, But to tear out the journal of this day.
Or, if the order of the world below
Will not the gap of one whole day allow,
Give me that minute when she made her vow.
So small a link, if broke, th' eternal chain Would, like divided waters, join again. It wo'not be; the fugitive is gone:
Prest by the crowd of following minutes on: That precious moment's out of nature fled, And in the heap of common rubbish laid,
Of things that once have been, and are decay'd. Almah. Your passion, like a fright, suspends my pain: It meets, o'erpow'rs, and beats mine back again: But, as when tides against the current flow, The native stream runs its own course below: So, though your griefs possess the upper part, My own have deeper channels in my heart. Almanz. Forgive that fury which my 'Tis the essay of an untaught first love. Yet rude, unfashion'd truth it does express: 'Tis love just peeping in a hasty dress. Retire, fair creature, to your needful rest; There's something noble lab'ring in my breast: This raging fire, which through the mass does move, Shall purge my dross, and shall refine my love.
[Exeunt ALMAHIDE and ESPERANZA.
She goes, and I like my own ghost appear;
It is not living, when she is not here.
Zul. This only I will say; She shall not go. Almanz. Thou, single, art not worth my answering; But take what friends, what armies, thou canst bring; What worlds; and when you are united all,
Then I will thunder in your ears,
Almanz. To live!
If from hands alone my
death can be, I am immortal, and a god to thee. If I would kill thee now, thy fate's so low That I must stoop ere I can give the blow. But mine is fix'd so far above thy crown, That all thy men,
Pil'd on thy back, can never pull it down. But at my ease thy destiny I send,
By ceasing from this hour to be thy friend. Like Heav'n, I need but only to stand still; And, not concurring to thy life, I kill.
Almanz. This counsellor an old man's caution shows, Who fears, that little he has left, to lose:
Age sets a fortune; while youth boldly throws. But let us first your drooping soldiers cheer; Then seek out danger, ere it dare appear. This hour I fix your crown upon your brow; Next hour Fate gives it, but I give it now.
Benzayda. In what sad object am I call'd to share, Tell me, what is it, sir, you here prepare? Selin. 'Tis what your dying brother did bequeath, A scene of vengeance, and a pomp of death. Benz. The horrid spectacle my soul does fright; I want the heart to see the dismal sight.
Selin. You are my principal invited guest, Whose eyes I would not only feed but feast: You are to smile at his last groaning breath, And laugh to see his eye-balls roll in death, To judge the ling'ring soul's convulsive strife, When thick short breath catches at parting life.
Benz. Love, then, my Ozmyn; I will be content
To make you wretched by your own consent: Live poor, despis'd, and banish'd for my sake, And all the burden of my sorrows take; For, as for me, in whatsoe'er estate, While I have you, I must be fortunate.
Ozmyn. Thus, then, secur'd of what we hold most dear, (Each other's love) we'll go
For where, alas, should we our flight begin? The foe's without; our parents are within. Benz. I'll fly to you; and you shall fly to me: Our flight but to each other's arms shall be. To Providence and chance permit the rest; Let us but love enough, and we are blest.
Boab. As some fair tulip, by a storm opprest,
Shrinks up, and folds its silken arms to rest; And, bending to the blast, all pale and dead, Hears, from within, the wind sing round its head: So, shrouded up, your beauty disappears; Unveil, my love, and lay aside your fears.
The storm that caus'd your fright, is past and done.
[ALMAHIDE unveiling, and looking round for ALMANZOR. Almah. So flow'rs peep out too soon, and miss the sun.
Almah. How bless'd was I before this fatal day! When all I knew of love, was to obey! 'Twas life becalm'd, without a gentle breath; Though not so cold, yet motionless as death. A heavy quiet state; but love, all strife, All rapid, is the hurricane of life. Had love not shown me, I had never seen An excellence beyond Boabdelin.
I had not, aiming higher, lost my rest; But with a vulgar good been dully blest: But, in Almanzor, having seen what's rare, Now I have learnt too sharply to compare; And, like a fav'rite, quickly in disgrace, Just knew the value ere I lost the place.
Almah. Heav'n will reward your worth some better way,
At least, for me, you have but lost one day. Nor is't a real loss which you deplore;
You sought a heart that was engag'd before. 'Twas a swift love which took you in his way; Flew only through your heart, but made no stay. 'Twas but a dream, where truth had not a place; A scene of fancy, mov'd so swift a pace, And shifted, that you can but think it was: Let, then, the short vexatious vision pass.
Almanz. My joys, indeed, are dreams; but not my pain: 'Twas a swift ruin; but the marks remain.
THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. Part II.
King Ferdinand. At length the time is come, when Spain shall be
From the long yoke of Moorish tyrants free.
All causes seem to second our design;
And Heav'n and earth in their destruction join. When empire in its childhood first appears, A watchful Fate o'ersees its tender years;
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