In Tears, when Joy appears in every other Face.
ALM. And Joy he brings to every other Heart,
But double, double Weight of Woe to mine;
For with Him Garcia comes- Garcia, to whom
I must be sacrific’d, and all my Faith
And Vows I gave my Dear Alphonso, basely
Violated-
No, it shall never be; for I will die first,
Die Ten thousand Deaths- Look down, look down, [Kneels.]
Alphonso, hear the Sacred Vow I make;
Leave for a Moment to behold Eternal Bliss,
And bend thy glorious Eyes to Earth and me;
And thou Anselmo, if yet thou art arriv’d
Thro’ all Impediments of purging Fire,
To that bright Heav’n, where my Alphonso reigns,
Behold thou also, and attend my Vow.
If ever I do yield, or give consent,
By any Action, Word or Thought, to wed
Another Lord; may then just Heav’n show’r down
Unheard of Curses on me, greater far
(If such there be in angry Heav’n’s Vengeance)
Than any I have yet endur’d.- and now [Rising.]
Methinks my Heart has some Relief: Having
Discharg’d this Debt, incumbent on my Love.
Yet, one thing more I would engage from thee.
LEO. My Heart, my Life and Will, are only yours.
ALM. I thank thee. ’Tis but this; anon, when all
Are busied in the General Joy, that thou
Wilt privately with me
Steal forth, and visit good Anselmo’s Tomb.
LEO. Alas! I fear some fatal Resolution.
ALM. No, on my Life, my Faith, I mean no Violence.
I feel I’m more at large,
Since I have made this Vow:
Perhaps I would repeat it there more solemnly.
’Tis that, or some such melancholy Thought,
Upon my Word no more.
LEO. I will attend you. -
Enter ALONZO. -
ALON. The Lord Gonsalez comes to tell your Highness
Of the King’s approach.
ALM. Conduct him in. [Exit ALON.]
That’s his Pretence, I know his Errand is
To fill my Ears with Garcia’s valiant Deeds;
And with his artful Tongue, to gild and magnifie
His Son’s Exploits.
But I am arm’d with Ice around my Heart,
Not to be warm’d with Words, nor idle Eloquence. -
Enter GONSALEZ. [Bowing very humbly.]
GONS. Be ev’ry Day of your long Life like this.
The Sun, bright Conquest, and your brighter Eyes,
Have all conspir’d to blaze promiscuous Light,
And bless this Day with most unequal Lustre.
Your Royal Father, my Victorious Lord,
Loaden with Spoils, and ever-living Lawrel,
Is entring now, in Martial Pomp the Pallace.
Five hundred Mules precede his solemn March,
Which groan beneath the Weight of Moorish Wealth.
Chariots of War, adorn’d with glittering Gems,
Succeed; and next, a Hundred neighing Steeds,
White as the fleecy Rain on Alpine Hills;
That bound, and foam, and champ the Golden Bit,
As they disdain’d the Victory they grace.
Prisoners of War in shining Fetters follow;
And Captains of the Noblest Blood of Africk
Sweat by his Chariot Wheel, and lick and grind,
With gnashing Teeth, the Dust his Triumphs raise.
The swarming Populace spread every Wall,
And cling, as if with Claws they did enforce
Their Hold, thro’ clifted Stones, stretching and staring,
As if they were all of Eyes, and every Limb
Would feed his Faculty of Admiration.
While you alone retire, and shun this Sight;
This Sight, which is indeed not seen (tho’ twice
The Multitude should gaze)
In Absence of your Eyes.
ALM. My Lord, my Eyes ungratefully behold
The gilded Trophies of exterior Honours.
Nor will my Ears be charm’d with sounding Words,
Or pompous Phrase; the Pageantry of Souls.
But that my Father is return’d in Safety,
I bend to Heav’n with Thanks and humble Praise.
GONS. Excellent Princess!
But ’tis a Task unfit for my weak Age,
With dying Words, to offer at your Praise.
Garcia, my Son, your Beauties lowest Slave,
Has better done;
In proving with his Sword, upon your Foes,
The Force and Influence of your matchless Charms.
ALM. I doubt not of the Worth of Garcia’s Deeds,
Which had been brave, tho’ I had ne’er been born.
LEO. Madam, the King. [Flourish.]
ALM. My Women. I wou’d meet him.
[Attendants to ALMERIA enter in Mourning.]
Act I, Scene 2
The Same. -
Symphony of Warlike Musick. Enter the KING, attended by GARCIA and several Officers. Files of Prisoners in Chains, and Guards, who are ranged in Order round the Stage. ALMERIA meets the KING, and kneels; afterwards GONSALEZ kneels and kisses the KING’S Hand, while GARCIA does the same to the Princess. -
KING. Almeria, rise- My best Gonsalez rise.
What, Tears! my good old Friend.-
GONS. But Tears of Joy. To see you thus, has fill’d
My Eyes with more Delight than they can hold.
KING. By Heav’n thou lov’st me, and I’m pleas’d thou dost:
Take it for Thanks, Old Man, that I rejoice
To see thee weep on this Occasion- But some
Here are who seem to mourn at our Success!
How is it, Almeria, that you meet our Eyes,
Upon this solemn Day, in these sad Weeds?
You and yours, are all, in opposition
To my Brightness, like Daughters of Affliction.
ALM. Forgive me, Sir, if I offend.
The Year, which I have vow’d to pay to Heav’n,
In Mourning and strict Life, for my Deliverance
From Death, and Wreck of the tempestuous Sea,
Wants yet to be expired.
KING. Your Zeal to Heav’n is great; so is your Debt:
Yet something too is due to me, who gave
That Life, which Heav’n preserv’d. A Day bestow’d
In Filial Duty, had atton’d and giv’n
A Dispensation to your Vow- No more.
’Twas weak and wilful- and a Woman’s Errour.
Yet- upon thought, it doubly wounds my Sight,
To see that Sable worn upon the Day
Succeeding that, in which our deadliest Foe,
Hated Anselmo, was interr’d- By Heav’n,
It looks as thou didst mourn for him: Just as
Thy senseless Vow appear’d to bear its Date,
Not from that Hour wherein thou wert preserv’d,
But that wherein the curs’d Alphonso perish’d.
Ha! what? thou dost not weep to think of that?
GONS. Have Patience, Royal Sir, the Princess weeps
To have offended you. If Fate decreed,
One ‘pointed Hour should be Alphonso’s Loss,
And her Deliverance; Is she to blame?
KING. I tell thee she’s to blame, not to have feasted
When my first Foe was laid in Earth, such Enmity,
Such Detestation, bears my Blood to his;
My Daughter should have revell’d at his Death.
She should have made these Pallace Walls to shake,
And all this high and ample Roof to ring
With her Rejoicings. What, to mourn, and weep;
Then, then, to weep, and pray, and grieve? By Heav’n,
T
here’s not a Slave, a shackled Slave of mine,
But should have smil’d that Hour, through all his Care,
And shook his Chains in Transport and rude Harmony.
GONS. What she has done, was excess of Goodness;
Betray’d by too much Piety, to seem
As if she had offended.
KING. To seem is to commit, at this Conjuncture.
I wonnot have the seeming of a Sorrow seen
To Day- Retire, divest your self with speed
Of that offensive Black; on me be all
The Violation of your Vow.
You stand excused that I command it.
GAR. [Kneeling.] Your Pardon, Sir, if I presume so far,
As to remind you of your gracious Promise.
KING. Rise, Garcia- I forgot. Yet stay, Almeria.
ALM. O my boding Heart- What is you Pleasure, Sir?
KING. Draw near, and give your Hand; and, Garcia, yours:
Receive this Lord, as one whom I have found
Worthy to be your Husband, and my Son.
GAR. Thus let me kneel to take- O not to take,
But to devote, and yield my self for ever
The Slave and Creature of my Royal Mistress.
GONS. O let me prostrate, pay my worthless Thanks
For this high Honour.
KING. No more; my promise long since pass’d, thy Loyalty,
And Garcia’s well-try’d Valour, all oblige me.
This Day we Triumph; but to morrow’s Sun
Shall shine on Garcia’s Nuptials.
ALM. Oh!- [Faints.]
GAR. Alas, she faints! help to support her.
GONS. She recovers.
KING. A Bridal Qualm; soon off. How is’t, Almeria?
ALM. A sudden Chilness Seizes on my Spirits.
Your Leave, Sir, to retire.
KING. Garcia, Conduct her. -
[GARCIA leads ALMERIA to the Door, and returns.]
This idle Vow hangs on her Woman’s Fears.
I’ll have a Priest shall preach her from her Faith,
And make it Sin, not to renounce that Vow
Which I’d have broken. [Trumpets.]
Enter ALONZO. -
OFFIC. The beauteous Captive, Zara, is arriv’d,
And with a Train, as if she still were Wife
To Albucacim, and the Moor had conquer’d.
KING. It is our Will she should be so attended.
Bear hence these Prisoners. Garcia, which is he,
Of whose mute Valour you relate such Wonders?
[Prisoners led off.]
GAR. Osmyn, who led the Moorish Horse; he does,
Great Sir, at her Request, attend on Zara.
KING. He is your Prisoner, as you please dispose him.
GAR. I would oblige him, but he shuns my Kindness;
And with a haughty Mien, and stern Civility,
Dumbly declines all Offers: If he speak
’Tis scarce above a word; as he were born
Alone to do, and did disdain to talk;
At least, to talk where he must not command.
KING. Such sullenness, and in a Man so brave,
Must have some other Cause than his Captivity.
Did Zara, then, request he might attend her?
GAR. My Lord, she did.
KING. That, join’d with his Behaviour,
Begets a Doubt. I’d have ’em watch’d: perhaps
Her Chains hang heavier on him than his own. -
Flourish; and Enter ZARA and OSMYN bound; conducted by PEREZ and a Guard, and attended by SELIM and several Mutes and Eunuchs in a Train. -
KING. What Welcome, and what Honours, beauteous Zara,
A King and Conquerour can give, are yours.
A Conquerour indeed, where you are won;
Who with such Lustre strike admiring Eyes,
That had our Pomp been with your Presence grac’d,
Th’ expecting Crowd had been deceiv’d; and seen
Their Monarch enter not Triumphant, but
In Triumph led; your Beauty’s Slave.
ZARA. If I on any Terms could condescend
To like Captivity, or think those Honours,
Which Conquerors in Courtesie bestow,
Of equal Value, with unborrow’d Rule,
And Native Right to Arbitrary Sway;
I might be pleas’d, when I behold this Train
With usual Homage wait. But when I feel
These Bonds, I look with Loathing on my self;
And scorn vile Slavery, tho’ doubly hid
Beneath Mock-Praises, and dissembled State.
KING. Those Bonds! ’Twas my Command you should be free.
How durst you, Perez, disobey me?
PEREZ. Great Sir,
Your Order was, she should not wait your Triumph;
But at some distance follow, thus attended.
KING. ’Tis false; ’twas more; I bad she should be free:
If not in Words, I bad it by my Eyes.
Her Eyes did more than bid- Free her and hers
With speed- yet stay- my Hands alone can make
Fit Restitution here- Thus I release you,
And by releasing you enslave my self.
ZARA. Favours conferr’d, tho’ when unsought, deserve
Acknowledgement from Noble Minds. Such Thanks
As one hating to be oblig’d-
Yet hating more, Ingratitude, can pay,
I offer.
KING. Born to excel, and to command!
As by transcendent Beauty to attract
All Eyes, so by Preheminence of Soul
To rule all Hearts.
Garcia, what’s he, who with contracted Brow,
[Beholding OSMYN, as they unbind him.]
And sullen Port, glooms downward with his Eyes;
At once regardless of his Chains, or Liberty?
GAR. That, Sir, is Osmyn.
KING. He answers well, the Character you gave him.
Whence comes it, Valiant Osmyn, that a Man
So great in Arms, as thou art said to be,
So ill can brook Captivity,
The common Chance of War?
OSM. Because Captivity has robb’d me of a just Revenge.
KING. I understand not that.
OSM. I would not have you.
ZARA. That Gallant Moor, in Battle lost a Friend,
Whom more than Life he lov’d; and the Regret,
Of not revenging on his Foes, that Loss,
Has caus’d this Melancholy and Despair.
KING. She does excuse him; ’tis as I suspected. [To GONS.]
GONS. That Friend may be her self; show no Resentment
Of his Arrogance yet; she looks concern’d.
KING. I’ll have Enquiry made; his Friend may be
A Prisoner. His Name?
ZARA. Heli.
KING. Garcia, be it your Care to make that search.
It shall be mine to pay Devotion here;
At this Fair Shrine to lay my Laurels down,
And raise Love’s Altar on the Spoils of War.
Conquest and Triumph, now, are mine no more;
Nor will I Victory in Camps adore:
For, ling’ring there, in long suspence she stands,
Shifting the Prize in unresolving Hands:
Unus’d to wait, I broke through her Delay,
Fix’d her by Force, and snatch’d the doubtful Day.
But late I find that War is but her Sport;
In Love the Goddess keeps her awful Court:
Fickle in Fields, unsteadily she flies,
But Rules with settled Sway in Zara’s Eyes. [Ex. OMNES.]
Act II, Scene 1
Representing the Ile of a Temple. -
Enter GARCIA, HELI and PEREZ. -
GAR. This Way, we’re told, Osmyn was seen to walk;
Choosing this lonely Mansion of the Dead,
To mourn, brave Heli, thy mistaken Fate.
/> HEL. Let Heav’n with Thunder to the Centre strike me,
If to arise in very Deed from Death,
And to revisit with my long clos’d Eyes
This living Light, could to my Soul, or Sense,
Afford a Thought, or Glimpse of Joy,
In least Proportion to the vast Delight
I feel, to hear of Osmyn’s Name; to hear
That Osmyn lives, and I again shall see him.
GAR. Unparalell’d Fidelity!
I’ve heard, with Admiration, of your Friendship;
And could, with equal Joy and Envy, view
The Transports of your Meeting.
PEREZ. Yonder, my Lord, behold the Noble Moor.
HEL. Where? where?
GAR. I see him not.
PEREZ. I saw him when I spoke, thwarting my View,
And striding with distemper’d Haste; his Eyes
Seem’d Flame, and flash’d upon me with a Glance;
Then forward shot their Fires, which he pursu’d,
As to some Object frightful, yet not fear’d.
GAR. Let’s haste to follow him, and know the Cause.
HEL. My Lord, let me entreat you to forbear:
Leave me alone, to find and cure the Cause.
I know his Melancholy, and such Starts
Are usual to his Temper. It might raise him
To act some Violence upon himself,
So to be caught in an unguarded Hour,
And when his Soul gives all her Passions Way,
Secure and loose in friendly Solitude.
I know his Noble Heart would burst with Shame,
Complete Works of William Congreve Page 63