Volume Ii Part 21 (1/2)
Guard well the Pa.s.sages.--
_Qu_. Thou art that sacrilegious--brutal thing!-- And false as are the Deities thou wors.h.i.+p'st.
_Abd_. G.o.ds! let me not understand that killing Language?
--Inform me quickly, how you came thus wounded, Lest looking on that sacred Stream of Blood, I die e'er I've reveng'd you on your Murderer.
_Qu_. Haste then, and kill thy self; thou art my Murderer.
Nor had his Hand, if not by thee instructed, Aim'd at a Sin so dangerous--
_Abd_. Surely she'll live--[_Aside_.]--This!-- Can Mischief dwell beneath this reverend Shape?
Confess who taught thee so much Cruelty.
Confess, or I will kill thee.
_Rod_. The Cardinal.
_Qu_. The Cardinal!
_Abd_. Oh impious Traitor!
How came I mention'd then?
_Rod_. To get Admittance.
_Abd_. But why do I delay thy Punishment?
Die,--and be d.a.m.n'd together. [_Aside.]
[Stabs him_.
But oh, my Queen!--_Elvira_, call for help.
Have I remov'd all that oppos'd our Flame, [_Kneels_.
To have it thus blown out, thus in a Minute?
When I, all full of youthful Fire, all Love, Had rais'd my Soul with Hopes of near Delights, To meet thee cold, and pale; to find those Eyes, Those charming Eyes thus dying--Oh ye Powers!
Take all the Prospect of my future Joys, And turn it to Despair, since thou art gone.
_Qu_. Cease,--cease--your kind Complaints--my struggling Soul, 'Twixt Death--and Love--holds an uneasy Contest; This will not let it stay--nor that depart;-- And whilst I hear thy Voice--thus breathing Love, It hovers still--about--the grateful--Sound.
My Eyes--have took--an everlasting Leave-- Of all that blest their Sight; and now a gloomy Darkness Benights the wis.h.i.+ng Sense,--that vainly strives-- To take another View;--but 'tis too late,-- And Life--and Love--must yield--to Death--and-- Fate.
[_Dies_.
_Abd_. Farewell, my greatest Plague, [_He rises with Joy_.
Thou wert a most impolitick loving thing; And having done my Bus'ness which thou wert born for, 'Twas time thou shouldst retire, And leave me free to love, and reign alone.
_Enter_ Leonora, Alonzo, Ordonio, _and other Men and Women_.
Come all the World, and pay your Sorrows here, Since all the World has Interest in this Loss.
_Alon_. The Moor in Tears! nay, then the Sin was his.
_Leon_. The Queen my Mother dead!
How many Sorrows will my Heart let in, E'er it will break in pieces.
[_Weeps over her_.