University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Carlos, Pizarro, Selima.
Sel.
Carlos, hate not th'unwilling Tongue
That bears unwelcome News.

Carl.
What do your Words portend?

Sel.
To-morrow's Dawn must to Morat,
Such is Abdalla's strict Command,
Yield up Zorayda's Hand.

Carl.
O dreadful Turn of flatt'ring Fate!
Is Happiness at best an empty Dream
To cheat the credulous Sense,
And, when the short Deceit is o'er,
Sink us in real Woe?
I cannot live, Zorayda lost.—

Piz.
Prevention yet is ours.
We must precipitate our Flight;
And, soon as Night with sable Cloud
Invests the silent Sky,
Hoist Sail, and disappoint the Threats of Fate.

Carl.
My Soul's oppress'd. O lov'd Pizarro,
Exert thy friendly Aid:
Summon each Thought, each saving Counsel,
To work our Rescue in this common Danger!

Sel.
All is prepar'd.

Piz.
Our Bark is ready.
Our Friends, th'Assistants of our Flight,
Collected, and but wait Command.

Sel.
Th'affrighted Maid,
Waits in the lonely Grotto's Shade
To sigh her last Farewell:
Then die, t'approve her Faith.

Carl.
Just Heav'ns defend! Oh, let me fly,
Swift as the Wings of Love can bear me,
To raise the fainting Charmer up:
We shall expect you there.—
Exit Carlos.