The Mourning Bride Read Online

But behold, she comes

For whom I fear, to shield me from my Fears.

Enter Almeria.

The Cause and Comfort of my boding Heart.

My Life, my Health, my Liberty, my All.

How shall I welcome thee, to this sad Place?

How speak to thee the Words of Joy and Transport?

How run into thy Arms with-held by Fetters,

Or take thee into mine, thus manacled

And pinion'd like a Thief or Murderer?

Shall I not hurt and bruise thy tender Body,

And stain thy Bosom with the Rust of these

Rude Irons? Must I meet thee thus, Almeria?

ALMERIA.

Thus, thus; we parted, thus to meet again.

Thou told'st me thou would'st think how we might meet

To part no more – Now we will part no more,

For these thy Chains, or Death shall join us ever.

OSMYN.

Hard Means, to ratifie that Word! – O Cruelty!

That ever I should think, beholding thee,

A Torture –– yet, such is the bleeding Anguish

Of my Heart, to see thy Sufferings – O Heav'n!

That I cou'd almost turn my Eyes away,

Or wish thee from my Sight.

ALMERIA.

O say not so;

Tho' 'tis because thou lov'st me. Do not say

On any Terms, that thou dost wish me from thee.

No, no, 'tis better thus, that we together

Feed on each others Heart, devour our Woes

With mutual Appetite; and mingling in

One Cup, the common Stream of both our Eyes,

Drink bitter Draughts, with never-slacking Thirst.

Thus, better, than for any Cause to part.

What dost thou think? Look not so tenderly

Upon me –– speak, and take me in thy Arms –

Thou canst not! thy poor Arms are bound and strive

In vain with the remorseless Chains, which gnaw

And eat into thy Flesh, festring thy Limbs

With rancling Rust.

OSMYN.

Oh! O –

ALMERIA.

Give me that Sigh.

Why do'st thou heave, and stifle in thy Griefs?

Thy Heart will burst, thy Eyes look red and start;

Give thy Soul Way, and tell me thy dark Thought.

OSMYN.

For this World's Rule, I wou'd not wound thy Breast,

With such a Dagger, as then stuck my Heart.

ALMERIA.

Why? why? to know it, cannot wound me more,

Then knowing thou hast felt it. Tell it me.

– Thou giv'st me Pain, with too much Tenderness!

OSMYN.

And thy excessive Love distracts my Sense!

O could'st thou be less killing, soft or kind,

Grief wou'd not double thus, his Darts against me.

ALMERIA.

Thou dost me Wrong, and Grief too robs my Heart,

If there, he shoot not ev'ry other Shaft;

Thy second self should feel each other Wound,

And Woe shou'd be in equal Portions dealt.

I am thy Wife –

OSMYN.

O thou hast search'd too deep.

There, there, I bleed; there pull the cruel Cords,

That strain my cracking Nerves; Engines and Wheels

That Piece-meal grind, are Beds of Down and Balm

To that soul-racking Thought.

ALMERIA.

Then, I am curs'd

Indeed; if that be so, if I'm thy Torment,

Kill me, kill me then, dash me with thy Chains;

Tread on me, spurn me, am I the bosom Snake

That sucks thy warm Life-Blood, and gnaws thy Heart?

O that thy Words had force to break those Bonds,

As they have Strength to tear this Heart in sunder;

So should'st thou be at large from all Oppression.

Am I, am I of all thy Woes the worst?

OSMYN.

My All of Bliss, my everlasting Life,

Soul of my Soul, and End of all my Wishes.

Why dost thou thus unman me with thy Words,

And melt me down to mingle with thy Weepings?

What dost thou ask? why dost thou talk thus piercingly?

Thy Sorrows have disturb'd thy Peace of Mind,

And thou dost speak of Miseries impossible.

ALMERIA.

Did'st thou not say, that Racks and Wheels were Balm,

And Beds of Ease, to thinking me thy Wife?

OSMYN.

No no, nor should the subtlest Pains that Hell,

Or hell-born Malice can invent; extort

A wish or Thought from me, to have thee other.

But thou wilt know, what harrows up my Heart.

Thou art my Wife – nay, thou art yet my Bride!

The Sacred Union of Connubial Love,

Yet unaccomplish'd; his mysterious Rites

Delay'd: nor has our Hymenial Torch

Yet lighted up, his last most grateful Sacrifice;

But dash'd with Rain from Eyes, and swail'd with Sighs,

Burns dim, and glimmers with expiring Light.

Is this dark Cell, a Temple for that God?

Or this vile Earth, an Altar for such Off'rings?

This Den for Slaves, this Dungeon damp'd with Woes;

Is this our Marriage Bed! are these our Joys!

Is this to call thee mine? O hold my Heart;

To call thee mine? yes, thus, ev'n thus, to call

Thee mine, were Comfort, Joy, extremest Exstacy.

But O thou art not mine, not ev'n in misery;

And 'tis deny'd to me, to be so bless'd,

As to be wretched with thee.

ALMERIA.

No; not that,

The extremest Malice of our Fate can hinder:

That still is left us, and on that we'll feed,

As on Leavings of Calamity.

There, we will feast; and smile on past Distress,

And hug in scorn of it, our mutual Ruine.

OSMYN.

O – thou dost talk, my Love, as one resolv'd,

Because not knowing Danger. But look forward;

Think on to Morrow, when thou shalt be torn

From these weak, strugling, unextended Arms;

Think how my Heart will heave, and Eyes will strain

To grasp and reach what is deny'd my Hands;

Think how the Blood will start, and Tears will gush

To follow thee my separating Soul.

Think how I am, when thou shalt wed with Garcia!

Then will I smear these Walls with Blood, dash my

Disfigur'd Face, and rive my clotted Hair,

Break on the flinty Ground my throbbing Breast,

And grovel with gash'd Hands to scratch a Grave,

Stripping my Nails, to tear this Pavement up

And bury me alive; where I will bite the Ground

'Till gorg'd with suffocating Earth.

ALMERIA.

O dismal Cruelty! heart-breaking Horrour!

OSMYN.

Then Garcia shall lie panting on thy Bosom,

Luxurious, revelling amidst thy Charms;

And thou perforce must yield, and aid his Transport,

Hell, Hell! have I not Cause to rage and rave?

What are all Racks, and Wheels, and Whips to this?

Are they not soothing Softness, sinking Ease,

And wafting Air to this? O my Almeria,

What do the Damn'd endure, but to despair,

But knowing Heav'n, to know it lost for ever.

ALMERIA.

O, I am struck; thy Words are Bolts of Ice,

Which shot into my Breast, now melt and chill me.

I chatter, shake, and faint with thrilling Fears.

No, hold me not – O, let us not support,

But sink each other, lower yet, down, down,

Where levell'd low, no more we'll lift our Eyes,

But prone, and dumb, rot the firm Face of Earth

With Rivers of incessant scalding Rain.

Enter Zara, Perez, and Selim.

ZARA.

Somewhat of weight to me, requires his Freedom.

Dare you dispute the King's Command? Behold

The Royal Signet.

PEREZ.

I obey; yet beg

Your Majesty one Moment to defer

Your entring, till the Princess is return'd,

From visiting the Noble Prisoner.

Exit Perez.

ZARA.

Ha!

What saist thou?

OSMYN.

We are lost! undone! discover'd!

Retire, my Life, with speed – Alas, we're seen!

Speak of Compassion, let her hear you speak

Of interceding for me with the King;

Say somewhat quickly to conceal our Loves,

If possible –

ALMERIA.

– I cannot speak.

OSMYN.

Let me

Conduct you forth, as not perceiving her.

But till she's gone; then bless me thus again.

ZARA.

Trembling and weeping as he leads her forth!

Confusion in his Face, and Grief in hers!

'Tis plain, I've been abus'd – Death and Destruction!

How shall I search into this Mystery?

The bluest Blast of Pestilential Air,

Strike, damp, deaden her Charms, and kill his Eyes;

Perdition catch 'em both, and Ruine part 'em.

OSMYN.

This Charity to one unknown, and in

Distress, Heav'n will repay; all Thanks are poor.

Exit Almeria.

ZARA aside.

Damn'd, damn'd Dissembler! Yet I will be calm,

Choak in my Rage, and know the utmost depth

Of this Deceiver –– you seem much surpriz'd.

OSMYN.

At your return so soon and unexpected?

ZARA.

And so unwish'd, unwanted too it seems.

Aside.

Confusion! yet I will contain my self.

You're grown a Favourite since last we parted;

Perhaps I'm sawcy and Intruding –

OSMYN.

– Madam!

ZARA.

I did not know the Princess Favourite;

Your Pardon, Sir –– mistake me not; you think

I'm angry: you're deceiv'd. I came to set

You free: But shall return much better pleas'd,

To find you have an Interest superiour.

OSMYN.

You do not come to mock my Miseries?

ZARA.

I do.

OSMYN.

I could at this time spare your Mirth.

ZARA.

I know thou could'st; but I'm not often pleas'd,

And will indulge it now. What Miseries?

Who would not be thus happily confin'd,

To be the Care of weeping Majesty?

To have contending Queens, at dead of Night

Forsake their down, to wake with wat'ry Eyes,

And watch like Tapers o'er your Hours of Rest.

O Curse! I cannot hold –

OSMYN.

Come, 'tis much.

ZARA.

Villain!

OSMYN.

How, Madam!

ZARA.

Thou shalt die.

OSMYN.

I thank you.

ZARA.

Thou ly'st; for now I know for whom thou'dst live.

OSMYN.

Then you may know for whom I'd die.

ZARA.

Hell! Hell!

Yet I'll be calm – Dark and unknown Betrayer!

But now the Dawn begins, and the slow Hand

Of Fate, is stretch'd to draw the Veil, and leave

Thee bare, the naked Mark of Publick View.

OSMYN.

You may be still deceiv'd; 'tis in my Power.

ZARA.

Ha!

Who waits there?

Enter Perez.

As you'll answer it, take heed

This Slave commit no Violence upon

Himself. I've been deceiv'd. The publick Safety

Requires he should be more confin'd; and none,

No not the Princess self, permitted to

Confer with him. I'll quit you to the King.

Vile and ingrate! too late thou shalt repent

The base Injustice thou hast done my Love.

Yes, thou shalt know, spite of thy past Distress,

And all those Ills, which thou so long hast mourn'd;

Heav'n has no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn'd,

Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn'd.

Exeunt Omnes.

The End of the Third Act.

Act IV.

Scene I.

A Room of State.

Enter Zara, and Selim.

ZARA.

Thou hast already rack'd me with thy stay;

Therefore require me not to ask thee twice;

Reply at once to all. What is concluded?

SELIM.

Your Accusation highly has incens'd

The King, and were alone enough to urge

The Fate of Osmyn: but to that, fresh News

Is since arrived, of more revolted Troops.

'Tis certain Heli too is fled, and with him

(Which breeds Amazement and Distraction) some

Who bore high Offices of Weight and Trust,

Both in the State and Army. This confirms

The King, in full belief of all you told him,

Concerning Osmyn's corresponding with

The Heads of those who first began the Mutiny.

Wherefore a Warrant for his Death is sign'd;

And Order given for publick Execution.

ZARA.

Ha! haste thee! fly, prevent his Fate and mine;

Find out the King, tell him I have of Weight

More than his Crown, t'impart 'ere Osmyn die.

SELIM.

It needs not, for the King will strait be here,

And as to your Revenge, not his own Int'rest,

Pretend to sacrifice the Life of Osmyn.

ZARA.

What shall I say? Invent, contrive, advise

Somewhat, to blind the King, and save his Life

In whom I live. Spite of my Rage, and Pride,

I am a Woman, and a Lover still.

O 'tis more Grief but to suppose his Death,

Than still to meet the Rigour of his Scorn.

From my Despair, my Anger had its source;

When he is dead, I must despair for ever.

For ever! that's Despair –– it was Distrust

Before; Distrust will ever be in Love,

And Anger in Distrust, both short-liv'd Pains.

But in Despair, and ever-during Death,

No Term, no Bound, but Infinite of Woe.

O Torment, but to think! what then to bear?

Not to be born – devise the means to shun it,

Quick; or, by Heav'n, this Dagger drinks thy Blood.

SELIM.

My Life is yours, nor wish I to preserve it,

But to serve you. I have already thought.

ZARA.

Forgive my Rage; I know thy Love and Truth.

But say, what's to be done? or when, or how

Shall I prevent, or stop th' approaching Danger?

SELIM.

You must still seem most resolute and fix'd

On Osmyn's Death; too quick a Change of Mercy,

Might breed Suspicion of the Cause. Advise,

That Execution may be done in private.

ZARA.

On what Pretence?

SELIM.

Your own Request's enough.

However, for a Colour, tell him, you

Have Cause to fear his Guards may be corrupted,

And some of them bought off to Osmyn's Int'rest,

Who at the Place of Execution, will

Attempt to force his way for an Escape.

The State of things will countenance all Suspicions.

Then offer to the King to have him strangl'd

In secret, by your Mutes; and get an Order,

That none but Mutes may have Admittance to him.

I can no more, the King is here. Obtain

This Grant – and I'll acquaint you with the rest.

Enter King, Gonsalez, Garcia, Perez.

KING.

Bear to the Dungeon, those Rebellious Slaves;

Th' ignoble Currs, that yelp to fill the Cry,

And spend their Mouths in barking Tyranny.

But for their Leaders, Sancho, and Ramirez,

Let 'em be led away to present Death.

Perez, see it perform'd.

GONSALEZ.

Might I presume;

Their Execution better were deferr'd,

Till Osmyn die. Mean time we may learn more

Of this Conspiracy.

KING.

Then be it so.

Stay, Soldier; they shall suffer with the Moor.

Are none return'd of those who follow'd Heli?

GONSALEZ.

None, Sir. Some Papers have been since discover'd,

In Roderigo's House, who fled with him.

Which seem to intimate, as if Alphonso,

Still alive, were arming in Valentia:

Which wears indeed this Colour of a Truth;

They who are fled have that way bent their course.

Of the same Nature, divers Notes have been

Dispers'd, t'amuze the People; whereupon

Some ready of Belief, have rais'd this Rumour:

That being sav'd upon the Coast of Africk,

He there disclos'd himself to Albucacim,

And by a secret Compact made with him,

Open'd the Way to this Invasion;

While he himself, returning to Valentia

In private, undertook to raise this Tumult.

ZARA aside to Selim.

Ha! hear'st thou that? Is Osmyn then Alphonso!

O Heav'n! a thousand things occur

To my Remembrance now, that make it plain.

O certain Death for him, as sure Despair

For me, if it be known – If not, what Hope

Have I? Yet 'twere the lowest Baseness, now,

To yield him up – No, I will still conceal him,

And try the Force of yet more Obligations.

GONSALEZ.

'Tis not impossible. Yet, it may be,

That some Impostor has usurp'd his Name.

Your beauteous Captive, Zara, can inform,

If such a one, so 'scaping, was receiv'd

At any time, in Albucacim's Court.

KING.

Pardon, fair Excellence, this long Neglect:

An unforeseen, unwelcome Hour of Business,

Has thrust between us and our while of Love;

But wearing now a-pace with ebbing Sand,

Will quickly waste, and give again the Day.

ZARA.

You're too secure: The Danger is more imminent

Than your high Courage suffers you to see;

While Osmyn lives, you are not safe.

KING.

His Doom

Is pass'd; if you revoke it not, he dies.

ZARA.

'Tis well. By what I heard upon your Entrance,

I find I can unfold what yet concerns

You more. One that did call himself Alphonso,

Was cast upon my Coast, as is reported;

And oft had private Conference with the King;

To what Effect I knew not then: But that

Alphonso, privately departed, just

About the time our Arms embark'd for Spain.

What I know more, is, That a tripple League

Of strictest Friendship, was profess'd between

Alphonso, Heli, and the Traytour Osmyn.

KING.

Publick Report, is ratify'd in this.

ZARA.

And Osmyn's Death requir'd of strong necessity.

KING.

Give Order strait, that all the Pris'ners die,

We will our self behold the Execution.

ZARA.

Forbear a Moment; somewhat more I have

Worthy your private Ear, and this your Minister.

KING.

Let all else void the Room. Garcia, give Order

For doubling all our Guards; Command that our

Militia are in Arms: We will anon

Ride forth, and view the Order of our Troops.

Exeunt Garcia, Perez, and Attendants.

ZARA.

I am your Captive, and you've us'd me Nobly;

And in return of that, though otherwise

Your Enemy; I have discover'd Osmyn,

His private Practice and Conspiracy

Against your State: and fully to discharge

My self of what I've undertaken; now,

I think it fit to tell you that your Guards

Are tainted; some among 'em have resolv'd

To rescue Osmyn at the Place of Death.

KING.

Is Treason then so near us as our Guards!

ZARA.

Most certain; though my Knowledge is not yet

So ripe, to point at the particular Men.

KING.

What's to be done?

ZARA.

That too I will advise.

I have remaining in my Train, some Mutes,

A Present once, from the Sultana Queen,

In the Grand Signior's Court. These from their Infancy

Are practis'd in the Trade of Death; and shall

(As there the Custom is) in private strangle

Osmyn.

GONSALEZ.

My Lord, the Queen advises well.

KING.

What Off'ring, or what Recompence remains

In me, that can be worthy so great Services?

To cast beneath your Feet the Crown you've sav'd,

Though on the Head that wears it, were too little.

ZARA.

Of that hereafter; but, mean time, 'tis fit

You order none may have Admittance to

The Pris'ner, but such Messengers, as I

Shall send.

KING.

Who waits there?

Enter Perez.

On your Life take heed,

That only Zara's Mutes, or such who bring

Her Warrant, have Admittance to the Moor.

ZARA.

They and no other; not the Princess self.

PEREZ.

Your Majesty shall be obey'd.

KING.

Retire.

Exit Perez.

GONSALEZ.

That Interdiction so particular,

Pronounc'd with Vehemence against the Princess,

Should have more Meaning than appears bare-fac'd.

The King is blinded by his Love, and heeds

It not. Your Majesty sure, might have spared

That last restraint; you hardly can suspect

The Princess is Confederate with the Moor.

ZARA.

I've heard, her Charity did once extend

So far to visit him, at his request.

GONSALEZ.

Ha!

KING.

How? she visit Osmyn! What, my Daughter?

SELIM.

Madam, take heed; or you have ruin'd all.

ZARA.

And after did solicite you, on his behalf –

KING.

Never. You have been mis-inform'd.

ZARA.

Indeed? Then 'twas a Whisper spread by some

Who wish'd it so: a common Art in Courts.

I will retire, and instantly prepare

Instruction, for my Ministers of Death.

Exeunt Zara and Selim.

GONSALEZ.

There's somewhat yet of Mystery in this;

Her Words and Actions are obscure and double,

Sometimes concur, and sometime disagree;

I like it not.

KING.

What dost thou think, Gonsalez;

Are we not much indebted to this fair one.

GONSALEZ.

I am a little slow of Credit, Sir,

In the Sincerity of Womens Actions.

Methinks this Lady's Hatred to the Moor,

Disquiets her too much; which makes it seem

As if she'd rather that she did not hate him.

I wish her Mutes are meant to be employ'd

As she pretends – I doubt it now – Your Guards

Corrupted; how? by whom? who told her so?

I'th' Evening Osmyn was to die; at Mid-night

She beg'd the Royal Signet to release him;

I'm' Morning he must die again; e're Noon

Her Mutes alone must strangle him or he'll

Escape. This put together, suits not well.

KING.

Yet, that there's Truth in what she has discover'd,

Is manifest from every Circumstance.

This Tumult, and the Lords who fled with Heli,

Are Confirmation. – That Alphonso lives,

Agrees expressly too with her Report.

GONSALEZ.

I grant it. Sir, and doubt not, but in Rage

Of Jealousie, she has discover'd what

She now repents. It may be I'm deceiv'd.

But why that needless Caution of the Princess?

What if she had seen Osmyn? tho' 'twere strange.

But if she had, what was't to her? unless

She fear'd her stronger Charms, might cause the Moor's

Affection to revolt.

KING.

I thank thee Friend.

There's Reason in thy Doubt, and I am warn'd.

But think'st thou that my Daughter saw this Moor?

GONSALEZ.

If Osmyn be, as Zara has related,

Alphonsos Friend; 'tis not impossible,

But she might wish on his Account to see him.

KING.

Say'st thou? by Heav'n thou hast arous'd a Thought,

That like a sudden Earth-quake, shakes my Frame;

Confusion! then my Daughter's an Accomplice,

And plots in Private with this hellish Moor.

GONSALEZ.

That were too hard a Thought – but see she comes.

'Twere not amiss to question her a little,

And try howe'er, if I've divin'd aright.

If what I fear be true, she'll be concern'd

For Osmyn's Death, as he's Alphonso's Friend.

Urge that, to try if she'll sollicite for him.

Enter Almeria and Leonora.

KING.

Your coming has prevented me Almeria;

I had determin'd to have sent for you.

Let your Attendant be dismiss'd; I have

Exit Leonora.

To talk with you. Come near, why dost thou shake?

What mean those swollen and redfleck'd Eyes, that look

As they had wept in Blood, and worn the Night

In waking Anguish? why this, on the Day

Which was design'd to celebrate thy Nuptials?

But that the Beams of Light, are to be stain'd

With reeking Gore, from Traytors on the Rack:

Wherefore I have deferr'd the Mariage Rites,

Nor shall the guilty Horrours of this Day

Prophane that Jubilee.

ALMERIA.

All Days, to me,

Henceforth are equal; this the Day of Death,

To Morrow, and the next, and each that follows,

Will undistinguish'd roll, and but prolong

One hated Line of more extended Woe.

KING.

Whence is thy Grief? give me to know the Cause,

And look thou answer me with truth: for know,

I am not unacquainted with thy Falshood.

Why art thou mute? base and degenerate Maid!

GONSALEZ.

Dear Madam, speak, or you'll incense the King.

ALMERIA.

What is to speak? or wherefore should I speak?

What means these Tears, but Grief unutterable?

KING.

Yes, Guilt; they are the dumb Confessions of

Thy guilty Mind; and say thou wert Confederate

With damn'd Conspirators, to take my Life.

O Impious Parricide! now canst thou speak?

ALMERIA.

O Earth, behold, I kneel upon thy Bosom,

And bend my flowing Eyes, to stream upon

Thy Face, imploring thee that thou wilt yield;

Open thy Bowels of Compassion, take

Into thy Womb the last and most forlorn

Of all thy Race. Hear me, thou common Parent;

– I have no Parent else –– be thou a Mother,

And step between me and the Curse of him,

That was – that was, but is no more a Father.

But brands my Innocence with horrid Crimes,

And for the tender Names of Child and Daughter,

Now calls me Murderer, and Parricide.

KING.

Rise, I command thee rise – and if thou would'st

Acquit thy self of those detested Names,

Swear thou hast never seen that foreign Dog,

Now doom'd to die, that most accursed Osmyn.

ALMERIA.

Never, but as with Innocence, I might,

And free of all bad Purposes.