Take your revenge upon the coming scenes:

For that damned poet's spared who damns a brother As one thief scapes that executes another.

Thus far alone does to the wits relate;

But from the rest we hope a better fate.

To please and move has been our poet's theme,
Art may direct, but nature is his aim;
And nature missed, in vain he boasts his art,
For only nature can affect the heart.

Then freely judge the scenes that shall ensue;
But as with freedom, judge with candour too.
He would not lose through prejudice his cause,
Nor would obtain precariously applause;
Impartial censure he requests from all,
Prepared by just decrees to stand or fall.

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DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

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.

SCENE GRANADA

THE MOURNING BRIDE

ACT THE FIRST

SCENE I

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?

Leon.

Dear madam, cease,

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.

Alm.

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?

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50,

Is it of moment to the peace of Heaven
That I should be afflicted thus?
If not,

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?

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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:

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But in my heart thou art interred; there, there,
Thy dear resemblance is for ever fixed;

Alas! what have I said?

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.

Leon.

I knew not this.

Alm.

Indeed

Oh, no, thou know'st not half,

Know'st nothing of my sorrows. - If thou didst

If I should tell thee, wouldst thou pity me?

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Tell me; I know thou wouldst, thou art compassionate. Leon. Witness these tears!

Alm.

I thank thee, Leonora,