University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

—A Room in the Palace.
Abd.
A victory, a glorious victory.
We've shown them, Zamor, we are brave as ever;
We've scatter'd these prond Spaniards like the dust.
When great Abdallah calls and Zamor leads,
Our foes are pow'rless as the bleating lambs.
I've seen the poplar strive against the whirlwind,
I've seen the wretch defy the bolts of thunder,
I've seen the waves roll on the frowning cliff
In all their majesty, I've seen those waves
Beat idly 'gainst that cliff and spent retire.
So I have seen these haughty infidels
Approach my walls, and plume themselves on conquest;
But when we rose in arms, have seen them fly
With all the hurry of the broken waves.

Zamor.
Yes, 'twas a noble victory, my Lord;
Saw'st thou not, how I led my Mussulmen
Into the thickest danger? mark'd thou not,
How my broad banner wav'd amid the fight?
Oh 'twas a glorious sight! to see our troops
Sabre in hand march on to blood and conquest,
To see them dash at once among the foe:
They stood not for the archers, but forthwith
Attack'd them sword in hand; then wild dismay
Pervaded all their legions, o'er the hills
They scatter'd in disorder, we pursued
And gave them to the sabre's edge. These christians
Then felt the sharpness of the Moorish steel.

Abd.
I saw, along the side of yonder hill,
How fierce the battle rag'd; I mark'd the sabres
Gleam, like the vivid lightning; I could hear
The shout of victory, the yell of conquest,
The dying groan, the feeble cry for quarter,
Mingle alternate with the clashing steel;
I thought I saw, amid that fiercest conflict,
Almanzor's lion-crest; say, was he there?

Zamor.
Yes, first and foremost in the ranks of battle
Almanzor stood undaunted 'gainst the foe;
I saw him cleave the crest of many a knight
And send full many a warrior to the grave.
Along that mountain side he drove his foes
In a full tide of conquest, there he fought,
Pursued his enemy and cheer'd his soldiers;
“To victory, to victory,” he cried,
And wav'd his glittering sword; onward he rush'd,
Nor stopp'd, till every christian dog was conquer'd.

Abd.
Oh nobly done! Almanzor then is brave
And worthy of the monarchs of Granada;
Long will he shine, the glory of his nation
And pride of all his friends: where is Almanzor?
Would I could press the hero to my heart.

Zamor.
My Lord, the hottest fight was round that hill,
Just at the opening of a narrow vale;
The Spaniards, as they fled, there made a stand,
And strove their nation's honour to redeem:
This was a bloody conflict, helms were cleft
By the bright sabre and the Spanish halbard;
Full many a breast receiv'd the deathly blow,
Full many a turban roll'd amid the dust;
The stream that rush'd along was red with gore,
The blood in rivulets stream'd adown the vale;
Nothing was seen but wounds and gore and slaughter;
Nothing was heard but shouts and dying groans.
Ev'n in the moment big with future fate,
While victory was dubious, with our sabres
I and Almanzor charg'd their firmest phalanx.
Such prodigies of valour I ne'er witness'd;
The Spaniards fought with all the desperation
Of those, who struggle in the arms of death;
The Moors contended in the hope of victory:
Just at the moment, when the falling foe,
Torn from his last resort, had giv'n away,
Some ruffian coward aim'd a secret blow
And clove Almanzor's crest; I saw the blood
Stream down his noble countenance, I mark'd
The latest word he utter'd, it was “victory.”
He died—

Abd.
Almanzor dead! oh gracious heav'n!
Have mercy on my bleeding, broken heart.
Almanzor, oh my son! my only son!
My only child! on whom I built my hopes,
On whom I hop'd to rest my weary limbs,
And prop my falling age, gone, gone forever!
Oh shall I never see that eye of fire
Beam with such strong expression? shall I never
Listen enamour'd to the eloquence,
The burning eloquence of dauntless courage?
Ah thou art dead, and I am here forsaken,
A poor, unfriended parent, robb'd of all
My dearest treasures, wife and son and daughter,
All buried in a dark untimely grave.

Zamor.
My Lord, the coward, who could, dare that blow,
Was curs'd Alonzo's brother; but the wretch
Paid well for his temerity; this sabre
Pierc'd that vile Spaniard's black, infernal heart.

Abd.
Alonzo's brother! Oh this is too much!
What! curst Alonzo ruin dear Alzira,
And now Almanzor slaughter'd by his brother?
I'll be reveng'd! by heav'n I'll be reveng'd!
Zamor, quick to his dungeon, seize the wretch.
And send his spirit to the shades of hell.

Zamor.
My Lord, tis done this moment as you bid.
[Aside.
Done! yes, I'll do it with the greatest pleasure.

[Exit.
Abd.
Now I am quite forsaken, oh this hand
Destroy'd my lovely daughter, and Almanzor—
My heart! my heart! oh Mahomet, heal its wounds,
And quench the fire that rages in my bosom.

SCENE II.

—A retired woody place near the field of battle.
Almanzor,
Solus.
Such is the state of this distracted world,
Such are the freaks, that fortune loves to play
Upon the great and noble! Morning saw me
A brave and gallant prince, renown'd in arms,
The heir of proud Granada, lov'd, caress'd
And by the fickle mob extoll'd to heav'n.
What am I now? ah wounded, weak, forsaken,
Left by the army once led on by me
Ev'n to the very height of victory;
None sought the prince, when from the field victorious
They march'd in triumph to Granada's walls;
None ask'd, where is Almanzor, but contented
They all retir'd beneath the haughty Zamor,
And left me here unnotic'd and forgotten,
Is't not enough to fire this soul of mine?
I'st not enough to rouse my jealousy?
What, shall this low born wretch exult and triumph,
While I am left to pine with pain and anguish?
And shall Granada ring with Zamor's praise,
While every tongue is silent in Almanzor's?
But I am sick of life, I loathe a world,
Where every thing looks dark and melancholy,
Where sighs and groans are wafted on each gale,
And every breeze is charg'd with misery.
Look round, thou hero! on this bloody plain,
And view the field, where thou hast won thy glory;
See yonder dying wretch, how pale, how ghastly
That countenance, which courage once enliven'd,
How dim his eye, and what is that he utters?
Ah! 'tis the long protracted shriek of anguish,
The feeble prayer for but one cooling drop,
Or the last struggling, parting groan of death.
Perhaps, even now, an aged, tottering mother
Is fondly waiting for her son's return;
Perhaps some maiden weaves the victor's garland
To deck her hero's brow, and as she binds
Each graceful wreath, lets fall a silent tear:
But, ah, no anxious mother's straining eye
Shall see her son's return! for death has seal'd
His clay-cold lips forever! though his love
Look for him, till the year has roll'd around her,
He sleeps forgotten on this bloody plain,
Her sighs can ne'er awake him, nor her tears
Recall his spirit from his early tomb.

[Enter Amru.
Amru.
And art thou still alive, most noble prince!
This, this is heaven indeed! long had I look'd
In fruitless search, and o'er this plain had wander'd,
Until despair had almost sunk my soul:
But come, my prince! let's hasten to Granada
And save thy father and his falling throne.

Alm.
What dost thou say?

Amru.
Ruin awaits thy father,
Death from the traitor, he has nurs'd so long.

Alm.
From Zamor?

Amru.
Yes, from him.

Alm.
Oh, gracious heaven!
Dart all thy fury on that guilty head.
Come, let us hasten ere the blow is struck;
Perhaps this hand may stay his murdering arm.

Amru.
Yes, let us hasten; but, most noble prince!
The army is corrupted, every gate
Is firmly clos'd to aid the wretched traitor.

Alm.
But, oh! my dearest friend, what can I do?
How can I save my father's life and throne?
And must the traitor triumph?

Amru.
No, Almanzor!
Fatima will secure an easy entrance:
At yonder lonely corner, where the wall
Hangs o'er the narrow plain, beneath the palace,
She will secure an easy entrance for thee.

Alm.
Ah, is she safe, and is she still the same,
The same enchanting angel, firm in danger,
And ever prompt to aid the righteous cause?

Amru.
Yes, 'twas by her I learnt thy father's danger;
Oh! couldst thou then have seen her fortitude,
Have seen her countenance by sorrow soften'd,
But strengthened by a more than woman's firmness;
Have seen her eye, where the oft-starting tear
Was check'd in embryo by that god-like wisdom,
Which told her, danger was no time for weeping;
My dearest friend, thou'dst lov'd her more than ever.

Alm.
Oh, treasure more than all the wealth of India!
If heaven shall aid me in this enterprize,
I'll place thee on my throne, a fairer jewel,
Than ever sparkled in a caliph's crown.
But let us hasten, every fleeting moment
May be the one that ends my father's life,
And with it, all my happiness and hopes.

SCENE III.

—A Dungeon.
Alonzo,
Solus.
The sun just sets behind the western hills,
The shades of twilight curtain round the sky
And spread unusual darkness thro' my dungeon:
This is the time, the happy time! when Zamor
Promis'd to come and free me from my prison.
Why does he wait? say, is he not my friend,
Or are his promises all vain and false?
I've waited long, this hour has been a day;
I fondly hop'd to see the setting sun
In freedom; but its golden orb has vanish'd,
And the red gleams of twilight stain the west.
I seated me upon this stone, and look'd,
With straining eye, unmoving, thro' the grate,
To see the sun descending to the horizon;
I chid each lazy moment as it pass'd,
And wish'd an eagle's wings might urge it onward:
Each sound I heard arrested my attention;
I listen'd, thought I heard the gates unbarr'd,
And sprang to meet the dear approach of Zamor.
Still, still the sun has set, and darkness shrouds
The scenery all around, the stars are twinkling
Feebly, amid the clear, unclouded sky:
A melancholy shade pervades my prison,
And seems the harbinger of something dreadful.
Heavens! is there aught awaits me more distressing
Than what I've suffer'd? what a shade is that,
Which glides along the wall? speak, tell my fate;
Oh, horrid! Zamor, come and free me! Zamor,
Come and fulfil thy promise to Alonzo!
Ah, there he comes! I hear the gates unbarr'd,
He comes! he comes! Alonzo now is free!
[Enter Zamor.]
My dearest Zamor, can I now be free,
Say, can I leave this gloomy seat of horror?

Zamor.
Yes, dear Alonzo, follow me to freedom;
Thou now shalt know that I am ever faithful;
I come to set thee now at liberty,
And break the iron bolts, that bar thy dungeon.
Alonzo, thou art free.

Alonzo.
Oh, gracious heaven!
Accept my warmest thanks, and pour thy blessings
In ceaseless show'rs on faithful Zamor's head.
Alonzo free! how sweet that accent sounds,
Alonzo free! Oh, I could speak forever
The blessed words. Zamor, receive my thanks,
The warmest thanks of an o'erflowing heart.

Zamor.
Alonzo, I have come to seal my friendship;
Yes, I have come to bid my last adieu.
When thou art free, wilt thou remember me?
Say, wilt thou ever think of faithful Zamor?

Alonzo.
Oh, ever! ever! I will ne'er forget thee,
I'd sooner die than lose thy dear remembrance.

Zamor.
Alonzo, when thou'rt freed from this dark dungeon,
And left to roam the fields at liberty,
Would not Alzira's love delight thy soul?
Know then, I free thee from thy gloomy prison,
To wed thee to Alzira; I will join you
In wedlock never—never to be broken.

Alonzo.
Now let us fly, the growing darkness favours.

Zamor.
But why this hurry? as the night advances,
Thy flight will be more safe. Approach this grate,
And view the cloudless sky; say, is't not lovely?
Mark, how the star of evening shines, how bright
It gems the west. Alonzo, thou hast seen
Many an evening on the hills of Castile,
As fair as this; is't not a cheerful sight?

Alonzo.
Yes, it reminds me of my youthful days
And boyish sports, beneath the silver moon.

Zamor.
Look at it steady, take thy final look!

Alonzo.
What say'st thou, Zamor?

Zamor.
Take thy final look!
Thou ne'er shalt see the vault of heaven again!

Alonzo.
Zamor, art thou distracted?

Zamor.
No, Alonzo!
I only come to seal my faithful friendship,
To seal it thus; [draws his dagger]
look at that polish'd dagger,
See how it glitters; can't it pierce thy heart?

Alonzo.
Angels of mercy! aid me in this hour;
Oh, blessed God of heaven! I pray thee, help me.

Zamor.
Alonzo! thus I show my fond affection;
I free thee from this dungeon, but to hide thee
Secure within the dungeon of the grave.
Alzira's dead; go there enjoy thy love,
Go there and wed her ghastly, mould'ring corse!
There thou canst love forever; art thou ready?

Alonzo.
But hear me, Zamor, hear me, I beseech thee!
Is this thy kindness? say, didst thou not promise
To free me from my prison?

Zamor.
Yes, I did,
And thus I free thee. [Prepares to stab him.]


Alonzo.
Oh, have mercy on me!
Spare me one moment, spare me, cruel Zamor!
What could'st thou mean, to torture poor Alonzo
With such high expectations and then dash them?
Spare me!

Zamor.
What dost thou want, thou dastard wretch?
Alzira lov'd thee, but she hated me;
She's dead, and thou shalt die.

Alonzo.
Infernal Zamor!
I'm weak and wretched, but I once was brave;
I tell thee thou'rt a fiend.

Zamor.
I know it well,
I glory, dastard, in my cruelty.
Say, art thou ready?

Alonzo.
Yes, kill me, thou coward!
Come and attack a feeble, helpless prisoner
At night, when all is dark; strike, if 'twill please thee,
Thou mean infernal coward!

Zamor.
Hell and fury!
Dar'st thou insult me thus? I'll never stain
That dagger with thy puny woman blood:
Here! here! Horazan, seize the dastard wretch!
Relentless drag him to that narrow cell,
And plunge thy assassin knife into his bosom.
Revenge! revenge! thy work is almost done.

SCENE IV.

—A Room.
Zamor and Ibrahim.
Zamor.
Ibrahim, what from my Mussulmen; all ready
To aid me in this dangerous enterprize?

Ibrah.
My lord, I've tried their firm fidelity
They all exclaim'd, “Long live the noble Zamor,
Death to Abdallah.” When the fight was ended,
That made them victors o'er those christian robbers,
I ask'd the legion, who should be their king?
With loud acclaim they shouted, “noble Zamor;”
I charg'd them to be silent, lest the armies
Around, might hear and stop the rising treason;
Still they exclaim'd, “Health to the hero Zamor!
Death to Abdallah!” Then our conquering armies,
Fir'd by the sound, exclaim'd through all their legions,
In ceaseless shouts, “Down with the haughty tyrant!
Long live the hero, he, who never trembles,
Nor fears! who always leads us on to glory!”

Zamor.
Then I have nought to fear, the armies all
Are on my side; I'm king, my Ibrahim!
I soon will show them, I can rule as well,
And fill the throne as nobly as Abdallah.
Ibrahim, thou faithful servant! thou shalt be
Next to the throne, the leader of my armies,
Director of my councils, and my friend;
My friend and last resort when danger calls.
But yesterday, the proud, unfeeling tyrant
Disgrac'd me, who had ever been his faithful
And trusty servant, who had dar'd my life
And shed my blood to free him from destruction.
There see these scars, these noble hero scars!
These I received while fighting for Abdallah;
But still, the dotard, in a fit of passion,
Could dare disgrace me; I will ne'er forgive him,
The tyrant dies to glut my gnawing vengeance.
I've triumph'd o'er him twice, I drove him on
To murder his Alzira, whom he lov'd
With all the tenderness, a parent can:
And in the battle, at the very moment,
When victory decided for our arms,
I aim'd a deadly blow and slew Almanzor;
Foe mix'd with foe, then aided my design,
None saw me strike, all thought a Spaniard slew him;
I came and told the king, Alonzo's brother
Had shed the precious blood of dear Almanzor.

Ibrah.
Thou liest like Satan! would that I could be
But half as wicked as thou art, my Zamor;
Thou sham'st the very fiends, thou'rt so abandon'd.

Zamor.
Zamor will never start at trifles, Ibrahim!
Some monstrous crime, that makes a murderer tremble,
Is all I ever deign to meddle with.
Let the assassin boast him of his deeds
Of death, done at the darkest hour of midnight,
Zamor shall boast of deeper, darker crimes.
I never merely stab, I torture first;
To see one die, that gives my eyes no pleasure;
But first to raise his fondest expectations
Of happiness, and then to blast them all;
That is the way I feast my soul with rapture.
I slew Alonzo in this torturing way;
I told him, I would free him from his dungeon,
I rais'd his expectations to the highest
And most extatic pitch; then at the moment,
When he was all on tiptoe to be free,
I drew my glittering poniard; Oh, how pale
And sunk he look'd! I just prepar'd to strike
His throbbing bosom, when some fiend infus'd
A sudden desperation in his heart;
Then I disdain'd to kill the whining boy,
But gave him to the vile assassin's dagger.

Ibrah.
Thou art a murderer on a noble scale;
Thou tortur'st, then destroy'st; the hellish savage,
Who tears his burning captive limb from limb,
Would be, my lord, a fit companion for thee.

Zamor.
Yes, I'm a savage, Ibrahim, complete
In all the wickedness, in all the hard,
Unfeeling cruelty, and all the cunning,
That mark a savage of the fellest stamp:
But I am brave, I lead my armies on
To victory and conquest, and that makes me
The soldier's friend, aye, and the people's friend.
Come, let us go and strike the final blow,
Go and dispatch the tyrant in his chamber.