My corpse had been the bulwark of It suited better with my life than his So to have died: mine had been of a piece, Seb. The more effeminate and soft his life, That better he deserved my love than thou. Dor. Oh, whither would you drive me! I must grant, Yes, I must grant, but with a swelling soul, Henriquez had your love with more desert: For you he fought and died; I fought against you; Hunted your sacred life; which that I missed, Was the propitious error of my fate, Not of my soul; my soul's a regicide. Seb. Thou might'st have given it a more gentle name; Thou meant'st to kill a tyrant, not a king. Speak; didst thou not, Alonzo? Dor. Can I speak? Alas! I cannot answer to Alonzo: Alonzo was too kind a name for me. Then, when I fought and conquered with your arms, Seb. Yet twice this day I owed my life to Dorax. Seb Nay, if thou canst be grieved, thou canst repent; Thou couldst not be a villain, though thou wouldst; Thou own'st too much, in owning thou hast erred; And I too little, who provoked thy crime. Dor. Oh, stop this headlong torrent of your goodness; It comes too fast upon a feeble soul Half drowned in tears before; spare my confusion; For yet I have not dared, through guilt and shame, 'Tis just you should, nor will I more complain. So, still indulging tears, she pines for thee, A widow and a maid. Dor. Have I been cursing Heav'n, while Heaven blessed me? I shall run mad with ecstasy of joy : What, in one moment to be reconciled To Heaven, and to my king, and to my love! Seb. Art thou so generous, too, to pity him? And all our quarrels be but such as thesc, Who shall love best, and closest shall embrace : Be what Henriquez was: be my Alonzo. Dor. What! my Alonzo, said you? My Alonzo ! Let my tears thank you; for I cannot speak; And if I could, Words were not made to vent such thoughts as mine. Seb. Thou canst not speak, and I can ne'er be silen ̈. Some strange reverse of fate must sure attend This vast profusion, this extravagance Of Heaven to bless me thus. "Tis gold so pure, It cannot bear the stamp, without alloy. But let my love, and friend, be ever mine. THE CONQUEST OF GRENADA. Love. LOVE is that madness which all lovers have; But yet 'tis sweet and pleasing so to rave. 'Tis an enchantment, where the reason's bound; A palace void of envy, cares, and strife; And prudence, of whose cure so much you boast, The storm that caused your fright is past and done. Love and Friendship. THAT friendship which from withered love doth shoot, Like the faint herbage on a rock, wants root; Love is a tender amity, refined: Grafted on friendship, it exalts the mind; But when the graff no longer does remain, BERENICE, SAINT CATHERINE. Ber. Now death draws near, a strange perplexity Creeps coldly on me, like a fear to die: Courage uncertain dangers may abate, But who can bear th' approach of certain fate? St. Cath. The wisest and the best some fear may show, And wish to stay, though they resolve to go. Ber. As some faint pilgrim, standing on the shore, First views the torrent he would venture o'er, And then his inn upon the farther ground, Both heavenly faith and human fear obey; A CHANGE SO swift what heart did ever feel! ALL things are hushed, as Nature's self lay dead; Three days I promised to attend my doom, 'Tis sure the noise of a tumultuous fight; [Noise within. They break the truce, and sally out by night. |