King. Garcia, that search shall be your care:
It shall be mine to pay devotion here;
At this fair fhrine to lay my laurels down,
And raise love's altar on the spoils of war.
Conqueft and triumph, now, are mine no more;
Nor will I victory in camps adore :

For, ling'ring there, in long fufpence fhe ftands,
Shifting the prize in unrefolving hands;

Unus'd to wait, I broke through her delay,

'Fix'd her by force, and fnatch'd the doubtful day. Now late I find that war is but her fport;

In love the goddess keeps her awful court;'
Fickle in fields, unfteadily fhe flies,

But rules with fettled fway in Zara's eyes.
The END of the FIRST ACT.

[Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE, reprefenting the isle of a temple.
" Garcia, Heli, Perez.

'GARCIA.

THIS way, we're told, Ofmyn was feen to walk; Choosing this lonely manfion of the dead,

• To mourn, brave Heli, thy mistaken fate.

"Heli. Let heav'n with thunder to the centre ftrike me, 'If to arise in very deed from death,

And to revifit with my long-clos'd eyes

This living light, cou'd to my foul or fenfe
Afford a thought, or fhew a glimpse of joy,
In leaft proportion to the vast delight
'I feel, to hear of Ofmyn's name; to hear
That Ofmyn lives, and I again fall fee him.

Gar. I've heard, with admiration, of your friend-
ship.

Per. Yonder, my lord, behold the noble Moor.

Hel. Where? Where?

Gar. I law him not, nor any like him

Per. I law him when I fpoke, thwarting my view, And ftriding with diftemper'd hafte; his eyes

• Seem'd flame, and flash'd upon me with a glance;

• Then

THE

MOURNING BRIDE..

• Then forward fhot their fires which he purfu'd, As to fome object frightful, yet not fear'd.

• Gar. Let's hafte to follow him, and know the cause. Hel. My lord, let me intreat you to forbear; Leave me alone, to find and cure the caufe. I know his melancholy, and fuch starts Are ufual to his temper. It might raise him • To act fome violence upon himself,

So to be caught in an unguarded hour,
And when his foul gives all her paffions way,
• Secure and loose in friendly folitude.

I know his noble heart would burst with shame,
To be furpriz'd by strangers in its frailty.

Gar. Go, generous Heli, and relieve your friend. Far be it from me, officiously to pry

'Or prefs upon the privacies of others.

• Perez, the king expects from our return
To have his jealoufy confirm'd, or clear'd,
Of that appearing love which Zara bears
To Ofmyn; but fome other opportunity
• Must make that plain.

[Exit Heli,

" Per. To me 'twas long fince plain, 'And ev'ry look from him and her confirms it. Gar. If fo, unhappiness attends their love, And I could pity 'em. I hear fome coming. The friends, perhaps, are met; let us avoid 'em. [Exeunt.

Enter Almeria and Leonora.

Alm. It was a fancy'd noise, for all is hush'd.
Leon. It bore the accent of a human voice.

Alm. It was thy fear, or else fome tranfient wind
Whistling through hollows of this vaulted ifle.

We'll liften

Leon. Hark!

Alm. No, all is hush'd, and still as death-'tis dread

How reverend is the face of this tall pile,

[ful!

Whofe antient pillars rear their marble heads,

To bear aloft its arch'd and pond'rous roof,

By its own weight made ftedfaft and immoveable,
Looking tranquility. It strikes an awe

And terror on my aking fight; the tombs

And

THE MOURNING BRIDE.

And monumental caves of death look cold,
And shoot a chilnefs to my trembling heart.
Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice;
Nay, quickly fpeak to me, and let me hear
Thy voice-my own affrights me with its echoes.
Leon. Let us return; the horror of this place
And filence will increase your melancholy.

Alm. It may my fears, but cannot add to that.
No, I will on; fhew me Anfelmo's tomb,
Lead me o'er bones and fculls, and mould'ring earth
Of human bodies; for I'll mix with them,
Or wind me in the shroud of some pale corfe
Yet green in earth, rather than be the bride
Of Garcia's more detefted bed: that thought
Exerts my fpirit; and my prefent fears
Are loft in dread of greater ill. Then fhew me,
Lead me, for I am bolder grown: lead on
Where I may kneel, and pay my vows again
To him, to Heav'n, and my Alphonfo's foul.

Leon. I go; but Heav'n can tell with what regret.

Enter Heli.

I wander through this maze of monuments,
Yet cannot find him-Hark! fure 'tis the voice

[Exeunt.

Of one complaining-There it founds-I'll follow it.

[Exit.

The SCENE opening discovers a place of tombs: one monument fronting the view greater than the reft.

Enter Almeria and Leonora.

Leon. Behold the facred vault, within whofe womb

The poor remains of good Anfelmo rest,

Yet fresh and unconfum'd by time or worms.

What do I fee? Oh, heav'n! either my eyes
Are falfe, or still the marble door remains
Unclos'd; the iron grates, that lead to death'
Beneath, are still wide ftretch'd upon their hinge,
And staring on us with unfolded leaves.

Alm. Sure 'tis the friendly yawn of death for me;
And that dumb mouth, fignificant in show,
Invites me to the bed, where I alone

Shall reft; fhews me the grave, where nature, weary

And

And long opprefs'd with woes and bending cares,
May lay the burden down, and fink in flumbers
Of
peace eternal. Death, grim death, will fold
• Me in his leaden arms, and press me close
To his cold clayie breast:' my father then
Will cease his tyranny; and Garcia too
Will fly my pale deformity with loathing.
My foul, enlarg'd from its vile bonds, will mount,
And range the ftarry orbs, and milky ways,
"Of that refulgent world, where I shall swim
In liquid light, and float on feas of blifs
To my Alphonfo's foul. Oh, joy too great!
Oh, extafy of thought! Help me, Anfelmo;
Help me, Alphonfo; take me, reach thy hand
To thee, to thee I call, to thee, Alphonso:
Oh, Alphonfo!

Ofmyn afcending from the tomb.

Ofm. Who calls that wretched thing that was Alphonfo?

Alm. Angels, and all the host of Heav'n, fupport me! Ofm. Whence is that voice, whofe fhrillness, from the grave,

And growing to his father's shroud, roots up
Alphonfo?

Alm. Mercy! Providence! Oh, speak,
Speak to it quickly, quickly; fpeak to me,
Comfort me, help me, hold me, hide me, hide me,
Leonora, in thy bofom, from the light,

And from my eyes.

Ofm. Amazement and illufion!

Rivet and nail me where I ftand, ye pow'rs,

[Coming forward,

That motionlefs I may be still deceiv'd.
Let me not ftir, nor breathe, left I diffolve
That tender, lovely form of painted air,
So like Almeria. Ha! it finks, it falls;
I'll catch it ere it goes, and grafp her fhade.
'Tis life! 'tis warm! 'tis fhe, 'tis the herself!
Nor dead, nor fhade, but breathing and alive!
It is Almeria, 'tis, it is my wife!

Enter Heli.

Leon. Alas! the ftirs not yet, nor lifts her eyes;

He

He too is fainting-Help me, help me, ftranger,
Whoe'er thou art, and lend thy hand to raise

These bodies.

Hel. Ha! 'tis he! and with

-Almeria!

Oh, miracle of happiness! Oh, joy
Unhop'd for! does Almeria live!
Ofm. Where is the?

Let me behold and touch her, and be sure
'Tis fhe; fhew me her face, and let me feel
Her lips with mine'Tis fhe, I'm not deceiv'd ;
I tafte her breath, I warm'd her and am warm'd.'
Look up, Almeria, blefs me with thy eyes;
Look on thy love, thy lover, and thy husband.

Alm. I've fworn I'll not wed Garcia: why d'ye force Is this a father?

Ofm. Look on thy Alphonfo.

Thy father is not here, my love, nor Garcia:
Nor am I what I feem, but thy Alphonfo.

[me

• Wilt thou not know me? Haft thou then forgot me? Haft thou thy eyes, yet canft not fee Alphonfo?'

Am I fo alter'd, or art thou fo chang'd,

That feeing my disguise, thou feeft not me?
Alm. It is, it is Alphonfo; 'tis his face,
His voice, I know him now, I know him all.
Oh, take me to thy arms, and bear me hence,
Back to the bottom of the boundless deep,

To feas beneath, where thou fo long haft dwelt.
Oh! how haft thou returned? How haft thou charm'd
The wildness of the waves and rocks to this?
That thus relenting they have giv'n thee back
To earth, to light and life, to love and me.

Ofm. Oh, I'll not ask, nor answer how, or why
We both have backward trod the paths of fate,
To meet again in life; to know I have thee,
Is knowing more than any circumstance,
Or means, by which I have thee

To fold thee thus, to prefs thy balmy lips,
And gaze upon thy eyes, is fo much joy,
I have not leifure to reflect, or know,
Or trifle time in thinking.

Alm. Stay a while

'Let me look on thee yet a little more.

• Ofm.