Part 14 (2/2)

_Alv._ Oh, Alonzo!--Isabella, Touch'd with remorse to see her mistress' pangs, Told all the dreadful tale.

_Alon._ What groan was that?

_Zan._ As I have been a vulture to thy heart, So will I be a raven to thine ear, As true as ever snuff'd the scent of blood, As ever flapp'd its heavy wing against The window of the sick, and croak'd despair.

Thy wife is dead. [_Alvarez goes aside, and returns._

_Alv._ The dreadful news is true.

_Alon._ Prepare the rack; invent new torments for him.

_Zan._ This too is well. The fix'd and n.o.ble mind Turns all occurrence to its own advantage; And I'll make vengeance of calamity.

Were I not thus reduc'd, thou wouldst not know, That, thus reduc'd, I dare defy thee still.

Torture thou may'st, but thou shall ne'er despise me.

The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear, And sighs and cries by nature grow on pain.

But these are foreign to the soul: not mine The groans that issue, or the tears that fall; They disobey me; on the rack I scorn thee, As when my falchion clove thy helm in battle.

_Alv._ Peace, villain!

_Zan._ While I live, old man, I'll speak.

And, well I know, thou dar'st not kill me yet; For that would rob thy blood-hounds of their prey.

_Alon._ Who call'd Alonzo?

_Alv._ No one call'd, my son.

_Alon._ Again!--'Tis Carlos' voice, and I obey.

Oh, how I laugh at all that this can do! [_shows dagger._ The wounds that pain'd, the wounds that murder'd me, Were giv'n before; I am already dead; This only marks my body for the grave. [_stabs himself._ Afric, thou art reveng'd.--Oh, Leonora! [_dies._

_Zan._ Good ruffians, give me leave; my blood is yours, The wheel's prepar'd, and you shall have it all.

Let me but look one moment on the dead, And pay yourselves with gazing on my pangs.

[_he goes to Alonzo's body._ Is this Alonzo? Where's the haughty mien?

Is that the hand which smote me? Heavens, how pale!

And art thou dead? So is my enmity.

I war not with the dust. The great, the proud, The conqueror of Afric was my foe.

A lion preys not upon carcases.

This was thy only method to subdue me.

Terror and doubt fall on me: all thy good Now blazes, all thy guilt is in the grave.

Never had man such funeral applause: If I lament thee, sure thy worth was great.

Oh, vengeance, I have follow'd thee too far, And to receive me, h.e.l.l blows all her fires. [_exeunt._

THE END.

Mr. Hughes, in his criticism on _Oth.e.l.lo_, introduces the following narrative, to which allusion is made in our remarks.--”The short story I am going to tell is a just warning to those of jealous honour to look about them, and begin to possess their souls as they ought; for no man of spirit knows how terrible a creature he is, till he comes to be provoked.

”Don Alonzo, a Spanish n.o.bleman, had a beautiful and virtuous wife, with whom he had lived some years in great tranquillity. The gentleman, however, was not free from the faults usually imputed to his nation; he was proud, suspicious, and impetuous. He kept a Moor in his house, whom, on a complaint from his lady, he had punished for a small offence with the utmost severity. The slave vowed revenge, and communicated his resolution to one of the lady's women, with whom he had lived in a criminal way. This creature also hated her mistress, for she feared she was observed by her; she therefore undertook to make Don Alonzo jealous, by insinuating that the gardner was often admitted to his lady in private, and promising to make him an eye witness of it. At a proper time, agreed on between her and the Morisco, she sent a message to the gardner, that his lady, having some hasty orders to give him, would have him come that moment to her in her chamber. In the mean time she had placed Alonzo privately in an outer room, that he might observe who pa.s.sed that way.

It was not long before he saw the gardner appear. Alonzo had not patience, but following him into the apartment, struck him at one blow with a dagger to the heart; then dragging his lady by the hair, without inquiring farther, he instantly killed her.

”Here he paused, looking on the dead bodies with all the agitations of a demon of revenge; when the wench who had occasioned these terrors, distracted with remorse, threw herself at his feet, and in a voice of lamentation, without sense of the consequence, repeated all her guilt.

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