The Mourning Bride/Act V

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ACT V. SCENE I.

A Room of State.

Enter King, Perez and Alonzo.King.Not to be found? In an ill hour he's absent.None, say you, none? what not the Fav'rite Evnuch?Nor she her self, nor any of her MutesHave yet required admittance?
Perez.None my Lord.
King.Is Osmyn so dispos'd, as I commanded?
Perez.Fast bound in double chains, and at full lengthHe lies supine on earth; as easilyShe might remove the fix'd foundation, asUnlock the rivets of his bonds.
King.'Tis well.[A Mute appears, and seeing the King retires.
Ha! seize that Mute; Alonzo, follow him. [Ex. Alonzo.
Entring he met my Eyes, and started back,Frighted, and fumbling one hand in his Bosom,As to conceal th' Importance of his Errand.[Alonzo re-enters with a Paper.
Alonz.O bloody Proof, of obstinate Fidelity!
King.What dost thou mean?
Alonz.Soon as I seiz'd the Man,He snatch'd from out his Bosom this———and stroveWith rash and greedy haste, at once to cramThe Morsel down his throat. I catch'd his Arm,And hardly wrench'd his Hand to wring it from him;Which done, he drew a Ponyard from his side,And on the instant, plung'd it in his Breast.
King.Remove the Body thence, e'er Zara see it.
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Alon.I'll be so bold to borrow his Attire;'Twill quit me of my Promise to Gonsalez. [Exit.

Per.Whate'er it is the King's Complexion turns.
King.How's this? my mortal Foe beneath my Roof![Having read the Letter.
O, give me Patience, all ye Powers! no, rather,Give me Rage, Rage, implacable Revenge,And trebled Fury———Ha! who's there?
Perez.My Lord.
King.Hence, Slave, how dar'st thou bide, to watch and pryInto how poor and mean a thing, a King descends;How like thy self when Passion treads him down?Ha! stir not, on thy Life: For thou wert fix'd,And planted here to see me gorge this Bait,And lash against the Hook———by Heav'n you're allRank Traytors; thou art with the rest combin'd;Thou knew'st that Osmyn was Alphonso, knew'stMy Daughter privately conferr'd with him,And wert the Spy and Pander to their Meeting.
Perez.By all thats Holy, I'm amaz'd———
King.Thou lyest.Thou art Accomplice too much with Zara; hereWhere she sets down———still will I set thee free——— [Reading.
That somewhere is repeated———I have powerO'er them that are thy Guards———Mark that thou Traytor.
Perez.It was your Majesty's Command, I shouldObey her Order———
King, reading.———And still will I setThee free, Alphonso———Hell! curs'd, curs'd Alphonso!False perfidious Zara! Strumpet Daughter!Away begon thou feeble Boy, fond Love,All Nature, Softness, Pity and Compassion,This hour I throw thee off, and entertainFell hate, within my breast, Revenge and GallBy Heav'n I'll meet, and counterwork this Treachery.Hark thee, Villain, Traitor———answer me Slave.
Perez.My Service has not merited those Titles.
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King.Dar'st thou reply? Take that—thy Service? thine?[Strikes him.
What's thy whole Life, thy Soul, thy All, to myOne moment's Ease? Hear my Command; and lookThat thou obey, or Horrour on thy Head.Drench me thy Dagger in Alphonso's Heart.Why dost thou start? Resolve to do't, or else———
Perez.My Lord, I will.
King.'Tis well———that when she comes to set him free,His Teeth may grin, and mock at her Remorse.[Perez going.
—Stay thee———I've farther thought———I'll add to this,And give her Eyes yet greater Disappointment.When thou hast ended him, bring me his Robe;And let the Cell where she'll expect to see him,Be dark'ned, so as to amuze the Sight.I'll be conducted thither———But see she comes; I'll shun th' Encounter; doThou follow, and give heed to my Direction. [Exeunt.

Enter Zara and Selim.
Zara.The Mute not yet return'd! 'tis strange. Ha! 'twasThe King that parted hence; frowning he went;His Eyes like Meteors roll'd, then darted downTheir red and angry Beams; as if his SightWould, like the raging Dog-star, scorch the Earth,And kindle Ruine in its Course. Think'st thouHe saw me not?
Selim.He did: But then as ifHis Eyes had err'd, he hastily recall'dTh' imperfect Look, and sternly turn'd away.
Zara.Shun me when seen! I fear thou hast undone me.Thy shallow Artifice begets Suspicion,And, like a Cobweb-Veil, but thinly shadesThe Face of thy Design; alone disguising ​What should have ne'er been seen; imperfect Mischief!Thou like the Adder, venomous and deaf,Hast stung the Traveller; and, after, hear'stNot his pursuing Voice; ev'n where thou think'stTo hide, the rustling Leaves and bended GrassConsess, and point the Path which thou hast crept.O Fate of Fools! officious in Contriving;In Executing puzzled, lame and lost.
Selim.Avert it, Heav'n, that thou should ever sufferFor my Defect; or that the Means which IDevis'd to serve should ruin your Design!Prescience is Heav'n's alone, not giv'n to Man.If I have fail'd in what, as being a Man,I needs must fail; impute not as a CrimeMy Nature's want, but punish Nature in me:I plead not for a Pardon and to live,But to be punish'd and forgiven. Here, strike;I bare my Breast to meet your just Revenge.
Zara.I have not leisure now to take so poorA Forfeit as thy Life: Somewhat of highAnd more important Fate requires my Thought.When I've concluded on my self, if IThink fit, I'll leave thee my Command to die.Regard me well; and dare not to replyTo what I give in Charge; for I'm resolv'd.Instruct the two remaining Mutes, that theyAttend me instantly, with each a BowlOf those Ingredients mix'd, as will with speedBenumn the living Faculties, and giveMost easie and inevitable Death.Yes, Osmyn, yes; be Osmyn or Alphonso,I'll give thee Freedom, if thou dar'st be free:Such Liberty as I embrace my self,Thou shalt partake. Since Fates no more afford;I can but die with thee to keep my Word. [Exeunt.

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Scene changes to the Prison.
Enter Gonsalez, disguis'd like a Mute, with a Dagger.
Gons.Nor Centinel, nor Guard! the Doors unbarr'd!And all as still, as at the Noon of Night!Sure Death already has been busie here.There lies my Way, that Door is too unlock'd.[Looks in.
Ha! sure he sleeps—all's dark within, save whatA Lamp, that feebly lifts a sickly Flame,By fits reveals—his Face seems turn'd to favourTh' Attempt: I'll steal, and do it unperceiv'd.What Noise! some body coming? 'st, Alonzo?No body? Sure he'll wait without—I would'Twere done—I'll crawl, and sting him to the Heart;Then cast my Skin, and leave it there to answer it.[Goes in.

Enter Garcia and Alonzo.
Gar.Where? where? Alonzo, where's my Father? whereThe King? Confusion! all is on the Rout!All's lost, all ruin'd by Surprize and Treachery.Where, where is he? Why dost thou thus miss-lead me?
Alonzo.My Lord, he enter'd but a moment since,And could not pass me unperceiv'd—What hoa!My Lord, my Lord, what, hoa! My Lord Gonsalez!
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Enter Gonsalez, bloody.
Gons.Perdition choak your Clamours—whence this Rudeness?Garcia!
Gar.Perdition, Slavery, and Death,Are entring now our Doors. Where is the King?What means this Blood? and why this Face of Horror?
Gons.No matter—give me first to know the CauseOf these your rash and ill-tim'd Exclamations.
Gar.The Eastern Gate is to the Foe betray'd,Who but for Heaps of Slain, that choak the Passage,Had enter'd long e'er now, and born down allBefore 'em, to the Palace Walls. UnlessThe King in Person animate our MenGranada's lost; and to confirm this Fear,The Traitor Perez, and the Captive Moor,Are through a Postern fled, and join the Foe.
Gons.Would all were false as that; for whom you callThe Moor is dead. That Osmyn was Alphonso;In whose Heart's Blood this Ponyard yet is warm.
Gar.Impossible; for Osmyn flying, wasPronounc'd aloud by Perez for Alphonso.
Gons.Enter that Chamber, and convince your Eyes,How much Report has wrong'd your easie Faith.[Garcia goes in.

Alonzo.My Lord, for certain Truth Perez is fled;And has declar'd the Cause of his Revolt,Was to revenge a Blow the King had giv'n him.
Gar. returning.Ruin and Horror! O heart-wounding sight!
Gons.What says my Son? what Ruin? ha? what Horrour?
Gar.Blasted my Eyes, and speechless be my Tongue,Rather than or to see, or to relateThis Deed—O dire Mistake! O fatal Blow!The King—
Gons. Alonzo.The King!
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Gar.Dead, welt'ring, drown'd in Blood.See, see, attir'd like Osmyn, where he lies.[They go in.
O whence, or how, or wherefore was this done?But what imports the Manner, or the Cause?Nothing remains to do, or to require,But that we all should turn our Swords againstOur selves, and expiate with our own his Blood.
Gons.O Wretch! O curs'd, and rash, deluded Fool!On me, on me, turn your avenging Sword.I, who have spilt my Royal Master's Blood,Should make Atonement by a Death as horrid;And fall beneath the Hand of my own Son.
Gar.Ha! what? atone this Murder with a greater!The Horror of that Thought has damp'd my Rage.The Earth already groans to bear this Deed;Oppress her not, nor think to stain her FaceWith more unnatural Blood. Murder my Father!Better with this to rip up my own Bowels,And bathe it to the Hilt, in far less damnableSelf-Murder.
Gons.O my Son, from the blind DotageOf a Father's Fondness these Ills arose;For thee I've been ambitious, base, and bloody:For thee I've plung'd into this Sea of Sin;Stemming the Tide with one weak Hand, and bearingWith the other the Crown, to wreath thy Brow,Whose Weight has sunk me e'er I reach'd the Shoar.
Gar.Fatal Ambition! Hark! the Foe is enter'd:[Shout.
The Shrilness of that Shout speaks 'em at hand.We have no time to search into the CauseOf this surprizing and most fatal Error.What's to be done? The King's Death known, will strikeThe few remaining Soldiers with Despair,And make 'em yield to Mercy of the Conquerour.
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Alonz.My Lord, I've thought how to conceal the Body;Require me not to tell the Means, 'till done,Lest you forbid what then you may approve. [Goes in.

Gons.They shout again! Whate'er he means to do,[Shout.
'Twere fit the Soldiers were amus'd mean timeWith Hopes, and fed with Expectation ofThe King's immediate Presence at their Head.
Gar.Were it a Truth, I fear 'tis now too late.But I'll omit no Care, nor Haste; and tryOr to repel their Force, or bravely die. [Exit.

Gons.What hast thou done, Alonzo?
Alonz.Such a DeedAs but an Hour ago I'd not have done,Tho' for the Crown of Universal Empire.But what are Kings reduc'd to common Clay?Or who can wound the Dead?———I've from the BodySever'd the Head, and in a Corner ofThe Room dispos'd it, muffled in the Mute'sAttire; leaving alone to View, the bloodyAnd undistinguishable Trunk:Which may be still mistaken by the GuardsFor Osmyn, if in seeking for the KingThey chance to find it.
Gons.'Twas an Act of Horror;And of a piece with this Day's dire Misdeeds.But 'tis not yet the time to ponder, orRepent. Haste thee, Alonzo, hence, with speed,To aid my Son. I'll follow with the lastReserve, to re-inforce his Arms: At least,I shall make good, and shelter his Retreat.[Exeunt.

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Enter Zara, follow'd by Selim, and two Mutes bearing the Bowls.
Zara.Silence and Solitude are ev'ry where!Thro' all the Gloomy Ways and Iron DoorsThat hither lead, nor Human Face nor VoiceIs seen or heard. A dreadful Din was wontTo grate the Sense, when enter'd here; from GroansAnd Howls of Slaves condemn'd, from Clink of Chains,And Crash of rusty Bars and creeking Hinges:And ever and anon the Sight was dash'dWith frightful Faces, and the meagre LooksOf grim and gastly Executioners.Yet more this Stilness terrifies my Soul,Than did that Scene of complicated Horrors.It may be, that the Cause and Purpose ofMy Errand, being chang'd from Life to Death,Has also wrought this chilling Change of Temper.Or does my Heart bode more? what can it moreThan Death?—Let 'em set down the Bowls, and warn AlphonsoThat I am here—so. You return and find[Mutes going in.
The King; tell him, what he requir'd, I've done,And wait his coming to approve the Deed.[Exit Selim.
What have you seen? Ha! wherefore stare you thus,[The Mutes return, and look affrighted.
With haggar'd Eyes? why are your Arms a-cross?Your heavy and desponding Heads hung down?Why is't you more than speak in these sad Signs?Give me more ample Knowledge of this Mourning.
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They go to the Scene, which opens and shews the Body.Ha! prostrate! bloody! headless! O—start Eyes,Split Heart, burst ev'ry Vein, at this dire Object:At once dissolve and flow; meet Blood with Blood;Dash your encount'ring Streams with mutual Violence,'Till Surges roll and foaming Billows rise,And curl their Crimson Heads to kiss the Clouds!—Rain, rain ye Stars, spout from your burning OrbsPrecipitated Fires, and pour in SheetsThe blazing Torrent on the Tyrant's Head;Scorch and consume the curs'd perfidious King.
Enter Selim.
Selim.I've sought in vain, the King is no where toBe found———
Zara.Get thee to Hell, and seek him there. [Stabs him.
His Hellish Rage had wanted Means to act,But for thy fatal and pernicious Counsel.
Sel.You thought it better then—but I'm rewarded.The Mute you sent, by some Mischance was seen,And forc'd to yield your Letter with his Life:I found the dead and bloody Body stripp'd—My Tongue faulters, and my Voice fails—Drink not the Poison—for Alphonso is— [Dies.

Zara.As thou art now—And I shall quickly be.'Tis not that he is dead; for 'twas decreedWe both should die. Nor is't that I survive;I have a Remedy for that. But Oh,He dy'd unknowing in my Heart.He knew I lov'd, but knew not to what height:Nor that I meant to fall before his Eyes, ​A Martyr and a Victim to my Vows:Insensible of this last Proof he's gone.Yet Fate alone can rob his Mortal PartOf Sense: His Soul still sees, and knows each Purpose,And fix'd Event of my persisting Faith.Then, wherefore do I pause?—give me the Bowl.[A Mute kneels and gives one of the Bowls.
Hover a Moment, yet, thou gentle Spirit,Soul of my Love, and I will wait thy Flight.This to our mutual Bliss when join'd above. [Drinks.
O friendly Draught, already in my Heart!Cold, cold; my Veins are Icicles and Frost.I'll creep into his Bosom, lay me there;Cover us close—or I shall chill his Breast,And fright him from my Arms—See, see, he slidesStill further from me; look, he hides his Face,I cannot feel it—quite beyond my reach.O now he's gone, and all is dark——— [Dies.
[The Mutes kneel and mourn over her.

Enter Almeria and Leonora.
Alm.O let me seek him in this horrid Cell;For in the Tomb or Prison, I aloneMust hope to find him.
Leon.Heav'ns! what dismal SceneOf Death is this? The Eunuch Selim slain!
Alm.Shew me, for I am come in search of Death;But want a Guide; for Tears have dimn'd my Sight.
Leon.Alas, a little farther, and beholdZara all pale and dead! two frightful Men,Who seem the Murderers, kneel weeping by:Feeling Remorse too late for what they've done.But O forbear—lift up your Eyes no more;But haste away, fly from this Fatal Place,Where Miseries are multiply'd; return ​And look not on; for there's a Dagger thatWill stab the Sight, and make your Eyes rain Blood.
Alm.O I fore-see that Object in my Mind.Is it at last then so? is he then dead?What dead at last, quite, quite, for ever dead?There, there I see him; there he lies, the BloodYet bubbling from his Wounds—O more than Savage!Had they, or Hearts, or Eyes, that did this Deed?Could Eyes endure to guide such cruel Hands?Are not my Eyes guilty alike with theirs,That thus can gaze, and yet not turn to Stone?—I do not weep! The Springs of Tears are dry'd;And of a sudden I am calm, as ifAll things were well; and yet my Husband's murder'd!Yes, yes, I know to mourn; I'll Sluce this Heart,The Source of Woe, and let the Torrent loose.—Those Men have left to weep, and look on me;I hope they murder all on whom they look.Behold me well; your bloody Hands have err'd,And wrongfully have put to Death those Innocents:I am the Sacrifice design'd to bleed;And come prepar'd to yield my Throat—they shakeTheir Heads in sign of Grief and Innocence![They point at the Bowl on the Ground.
And point! what mean they? Ha! a Cup. O wellI understand what Medicine has been here.O noble Thirst! and yet too greedy toDrink all—O for another Draught of Death.[They point at the other Cup.
Ha! point again? 'tis there, and full, I hope.O thanks the liberal Hand that fill'd thee thus;I'll drink my glad Acknowledgment———
Leon.O holdFor Mercy's sake; upon my Knees—forbear———
Alm.With Thee, the kneeling World should beg in vainSeest thou not there who prostrate lies; ​And pleads against thee? who shall then prevail?Yet I will take a cold and parting Leave,From his pale Lips; I'll kiss him e'er I drink,Lest the rank Juice should blister on my Mouth,And stain the Colour of my last Adieu.Horror! a headless Trunk! nor Lips nor Face,[Coming nearer the Body, starts and lets fall the Cup.
But spouting Veins, and mangled Flesh! O, O.
Enter Alphonso, Heli, Perez, with Garcia Prisoner, Guards and Attendants.
Alph.Away, stand off, where is she? let me fly,Save her from Death; and snatch her to my Heart.
Alm.Oh———
Alph.Forbear; my Arms alone shall hold her up:Warm her to Life, and wake her into Gladness.O let me talk to thy reviving Sense,The Words of Joy and Peace; warm thy cold Beauties,With the new-flushing Ardour of my Cheek;Into thy Lips, pour the soft trickling BalmOf Cordial Sighs; and reinspire thy BosomWith the Breath of Love. Shine, awake, Almeria,Give a new Birth to thy long-shaded Eyes,Then double on the Day reflected Light.
Alm.Where am I? Heav'n! what does this Dream intend?
Alph.O may'st thou never dream of less Delight,Nor ever wake to less substantial Joys.
Alm.Giv'n me again from Death! O all ye Pow'rsConfirm this Miracle! can I believeMy Sight, against my Sight? and shall I trustThat Sense, which in one Instant shews him deadAnd living? Yes, I will; I've been abus'dWith Apparitions and affrighting Fantoms:This is my Lord, my Life, my only Husband;I have him now, and we no more will part.My Father too shall have Compassion———
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Alph.O my Heart's Comfort; 'tis not giv'n to thisFrail Life, to be entirely bless'd. Even now,In this extreamest Joy, my Soul can taste,Yet am I dash'd to think that thou must weep;Thy Father fell, where he design'd my Death.Gonsalez and Alonzo, both of WoundsExpiring, have with their last Breath, confess'dThe just Decrees of Heav'n, in turning onThemselves, their own most bloody Purposes.Nay, I must grant, 'tis fit you shou'd be thus——— [She weeps.
Let 'em remove the Body from her Sight.Ill-fated Zara! Ha! a Cup? alas!Thy Errour then is plain: but I were FlintNot to o'er-flow in Tribute to thy Memory.She shall be Royally interr'd. O Garcia,Whose Virtue has renounc'd thy Father's Crimes,Seest thou, how just the Hand of Heav'n has been?Let us that thro' our Innocence survive,Still in the Paths of Honour persevere,And not from past or present Ills despair:For Blessings ever wait on vertuous Deeds;And tho' a late, a sure Reward succeeds.[Exeunt Omnes.

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