MANUEL, the King of Granada.
GONSALEZ, his Favourite.
GARCIA, Son to GONSALEZ.
PEREZ, Captain of the Guards.
ALONZO, an Officer, creature to GONSALEZ.
OSMYN, a noble Prisoner.
HELI, a Prisoner, his Friend.
SELIM, a Eunuch.
ALMERIA, the Princess of Granada.
ZARA, a captive Queen.
LEONORA, chief Attendant of the Princess.
ALMERIA'S Women, Eunuchs and Mutes attending Zara,
Guards, Prisoners, and Attendants.
A Room of State in the Palace
The curtain rising slowly to soft music, discovers ALMERIA
in mourning, LEONORA waiting in mourning. After the music, ALMERIA rises from her chair and comes forward
Alm. Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.
I've read that things inanimate have moved,
And, as with living souls, have been informed,
By magic numbers and persuasive sound.
What then am I?
Than trees or flint?
Am I more senseless grown
O force of constant woe!
'Tis not in harmony to calm my griefs.
Anselmo sleeps, and is at peace; last night
The silent tomb received the good old king;
He and his sorrows now are safely lodged
Within its cold but hospitable bosom.
Why am not I at peace?
Or moderate your griefs; there is no cause
Alm. No cause! peace, peace; there is eternal cause,
And misery eternal will succeed.
Thou canst not tell thou hast indeed no cause.
Leon. Believe me, madam, I lament Anselmo,
And always did compassionate his fortune:
Have often wept to see how cruelly
Your father kept in chains his fellow-king:
And oft at night when all have been retired,
Have stolen from bed, and to his prison crept;
Where, while his jailor slept, I through the grate
Have softly whispered, and inquired his health;
Sent in my sighs and prayers for his deliverance;
For sighs and prayers were all that I could offer.
Alm. Indeed thou hast a soft and gentle nature,
That thus couldst melt to see a stranger's wrongs.
O Leonora, hadst thou known Anselmo,
How would thy heart have bled to see his sufferings.
Thou hadst no cause, but general compassion.
Leon. Love of my royal mistress gave me cause,
My love of you begot my grief for him;
For I had heard that when the chance of war
Had blessed Anselmo's arms with victory,
And the rich spoil of all the field, and you,
The glory of the whole, were made the prey
Of his success; that then, in spite of hate,
Revenge, and that hereditary feud
Between Valentia's and Granada's kings,
He did endear himself to your affection,
By all the worthy and indulgent ways
His most industrious goodness could invent;
Proposing by a match between Alphonso
His son, the brave Valentia prince, and you,
To end the long dissension, and unite
The jarring crowns.
Alphonso! O Alphonso!
Thou too art quiet - long hast been at peace
Both, both
- father and son are now no more.
Then why am I? Oh, when shall I have rest?
Why do I live to say you are no more?
Why are all these things thus? - Is it of force?
Is there necessity I must be miserable?
Is it of moment to the peace of Heaven
That I should be afflicted thus?
Why is it thus contrived? Why are things laid
By some unseen hand so, as of sure consequence,
They must to me bring curses, grief of heart,
The last distress of life, and sure despair?
Leon. Alas, you search too far, and think too deeply!
Alm. Why was I carried to Anselmo's court?
Or there, why was.I used so tenderly?
Why not ill-treated like an enemy?
For so my father would have used his child.
O Alphonso! Alphonso!
Devouring seas have washed thee from my sight,
No time shall raze thee from my memory;
No, I will live to be thy monument;
The cruel ocean is no more thy tomb:
But in my heart thou art interred; there, there,
Thy dear resemblance is for ever fixed;
My love, my lord, my husband still, though lost.
Leon. Husband! O Heavens!
Alm.
My grief has hurried me beyond all thought:
I would have kept that secret; though I know
Thy love and faith to me deserve all confidence.
But 'tis the wretch's comfort still to have
Some small reserve of near and inward woe,
Some unsuspected hoard of darling grief,
Which they unseen may wail, and weep and mourn,
And, glutton-like, alone devour.
If I should tell thee, wouldst thou pity me?
Tell me; I know thou wouldst, thou art compassionate. Leon. Witness these tears!
Indeed I do, for pitying thy sad mistress;
For 'tis, alas! the poor prerogative
Of greatness, to be wretched and unpitied.
But I did promise I would tell thee - what?
My miseries? thou dost already know 'em;
And when I told thee thou didst nothing know,
It was because thou didst not know Alphonso:
For to have known my loss, thou must have known
His worth, his truth, and tenderness of love.
Leon. The memory of that brave prince stands fair In all report
And I have heard imperfectly his loss!
But fearful to renew your troubles past,
I never did presume to ask the story.
Alm. If for my swelling heart" I can, I'll tell thee. I was a welcome captive in Valentia,
Even on the day when Manuel my father
Led on his conquering troops, high as the gates
Of King Anselmo's palace; which in rage,
And heat of war, and dire revenge, he fired.
The good king flying to avoid the flames,
Started amidst his foes, and made captivity
His fatal refuge. Would that I had fallen
Amid those flames! but 'twas not so decreed.
Alphonso, who foresaw my father's cruelty,
Had borne the queen and me on board a ship
Ready to sail; and when this news was brought,
We put to sea; but being betrayed by some
Who knew our flight, we closely were pursued,
And almost taken; when a sudden storm
Drove us, and those that followed, on the coast
Of Afric; there our vessel struck the shore,
And bulging 'gainst a rock was lashed in pieces!
But Heaven spared me for yet much more affliction!
Conducting them who followed us to shun
The shoal, and save me floating on the waves,
While the good queen and my Alphonso perished.
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