University of Virginia Library

ACT the Fifth.

Belzara alone.
Bel.
Victorious Carlos, now resume thy Hopes,
Demand thy Life, and silence thy Ximena.
Hard were thy Fate indeed, if she alone
Should be the Bar to Triumphs nobly purchas'd.
But see, she comes, with mournful Pomp of Woe,
To prosecute this Darling of the People,
And damp, with ill-tim'd Griefs, the publick Joy.
Enter Ximena in Mourning, attended.
Ximena! Oh! I more than ever now
Deplore the hard Afflictions that pursue thee;
While thy whole native Country is in Joy,
Art thou the only Object of Despair?
Is this a Time to prosecute thy Cause,
When publick Gratitude is bound t'oppose thee?
When on the Head of Carlos, which thy Griefs
Demand, Fortune has pour'd Protection down?
The Moors repuls'd, his Country sav'd from Rapine,
His menac'd King confirm'd upon his Throne,
From every Heart but thine, will find a Voice
To lift his eccho'd Praises to the Heav'ns.

Ximena.
Is't possible? Are all these Wonders true?
Am I the only Mark of his Misdoing?
Cou'd then his fatal Sword transpierce my Father;
Yet save a Nation to defeat my Vengeance?
Still as I pass, the publick Voice extols
His glorious Deeds, regardless of my Wrongs;
The Eye of Pity, that but Yesternight
Let fall a Tear in feeling of my Cause,
Now turns away, retracting its Compassion,
And speaks the general Grudge at my complaining.
But there's a King, who's sacred Word's his Law;
Supported by that Hope, I still must on,
Nor till by him rejected, can be silent.

Bel.
Your Duty shou'd recede, when publick Good
Must suffer in the Life your Cause pursues.

Xim.
But can it be? Was it to Carlos' Sword
The Nation thus transported owes its Safety?
O let me taste the Pleasure, and the Pain!
Tell me, Belzara, tell me all his Glory,
O! let me Surfeit on the guilty Joy,
Delight my Passion, and torment my Vertue.

Bel.
Alonzo, who was present will inform us,
Enter Alonzo.
Alonzo, if your Business will permit.

Alon.
Apart to Belz.
The Abbot, at whose House Count Gormaz lies,
Has sent in haste to speak with me, I guess,
To fix the Order of his Funeral.

Bel.
Spare us at least a Moment from th'Occasion,
Ximena has not yet been fully told
The Action of our late Deliverance;
The Fame of Carlos may compose her Sorrows.

Alon.
Permit the Action then to praise it self;
Late in the Night, at Lord Alvarez' House,
Five Hundred Friends were gather'd in his Cause,
To oppose the Vengeance, that pursu'd his Son;
But in the common Danger, brave Alvarez,
With valiant Carlos at their Head, prefer'd
The publick Safety to their private Honour,
And march'd with Swords determin'd 'gainst the Moors.
This brave Example, e'er they reach'd the Harbour,
Increas'd their Numbers to Three Thousand strong.

Bel.
Were the Moors landed e'er you reach'd the Port?

Alon.
Not till some Hours after, when we arriv'd,
Our Troops were form'd, Ximena was the Word,
And Carlos foremost, to confront the Foe.
The Moors not yet in view, he order'd first
Two Thirds of our divided Force to lie
Conceal'd i'th' Hatches of our Ships in Harbour;
The rest, whose Numbers every Moment swell'd,
Halted with Carlos, on the Shore, impatient,
And silent on their Arms reposing, pass'd
The still remainder of the wasting Night.
At length the Brightness of the Moon presents
Near Twenty Sail approaching with the Tyde;
Our Order still observ'd, we let them pass;
Nor at the Port, or Walls, a Man was seen.
This Deadness of our Silence wings their Hopes
To seize th'Occasion, and surprize us sleeping,
And now they disembark, and meet their Fate.
For at the Instant they were half on Shore,
Uprose the Numbers in our Ships conceal'd,
And to the vaulted Heav'n thunder'd their Huzza's,
Which Carlos eccho'd from his Force on Shore:
At this, amaz'd Confusion seiz'd their Troops,
And e'er their Chiefs cou'd form them to resist,
We press'd them on the Water, drove them on
The Land, then fir'd their Ships to stop their Flight:
Howe'er at length their Leaders bravely rallying,
Recover'd them to order, and a while
Sustain'd their Courage, and oppos'd our Fury:
But, when their burning Ships began to flame,
The dreadful Blaze presenting to their View
Their slaughter'd Heaps that fell where Carlos fought,
(For oh he fought, as if to die were Victory)
Their fruitless Courage then resign'd their Hopes;
And now their wounded King despairing, call'd
Aloud, and hail'd our General to surrender,
Whom Carlos answering receiv'd his Prisoner:
At this, the rest had on Submission Quarter,
Our Trumpets sound, and Shouts proclaim our Victory:
While Carlos bore his Captive to his Father,
Whose Heart transported at the Royal Prize,
Dropt Tears of Joy, and to the King convey'd him,
Where now he's pleading for his Son's Distress,
And asks but Mercy for his glorious Triumph.

[Exit.
Xim.
Too much! it is too much, relentless Heav'n!
Th'Oppression's greater than my Soul can bear!
O wounding Vertue! O my tortur'd Heart!
Art only thou forbidden to applaud him?
Cannot a Nation sav'd appease thy Vengeance?
Why! why just Heav'n, are his Deeds so glorious,
And only fatal to the Heart that loves him?

Bel.
Compose, Ximena, thy Disorder, see,
The King approaches, smiling on Alvarez,
Whose Heart o'erflowing, gushes at his Eyes,
And speaks his Plea too strong for thy Complaint.

Xim.
Then sleep, my Love, and Vertue arm t'oppose him,
Let me look backward on his fatal Honour,
Survey this mournful Pomp of his Renown,
These woeful Trophies of his conquer'd Love,
That thro' my Father's Life pursu'd his Fame,
And made me in his Nuptial Hopes an Orphan,
O broken Spirit! would'st thou spare him now,
Think on thy Father's Blood! exert the Daughter,
Suppress thy Passion, and demand thy Victim.

Enter King, Alvarez, Sanchez, &c.
King.
Dismiss thy Fears, my Friend, and Man thy Heart,
For while his Actions are above Reward,
Mercy's of Course included in the Debt.
Our ablest Bounty's Bankrupt to his Merit,
Our Subjects rescu'd from so fierce a Foe,
The Moors defeated, e'er the rude Alarm
Allow'd us Time to order our Defence,
Our Crown protected, and our Scepter fixt,
Are Actions that secure Acknowledgment.

Alv.
My Tears, Sir, better than my Words will thank you.

Enter Garcia.
Gar.
Don Carlos, Sir, without, attends your Pleasure,
And comes surrender'd as his Word engag'd,
To answer the Appeal of fair Ximena.

King.
Attend him to our Presence.

Xim.
O my Heart!

King.
Ximena, with Compassion we shall hear thee,
But must not have thy Griefs arraign our Justice,
If in his Judge thou find'st an Advocate:
Not less his Virtues, than thy Wrongs will plead.

Xim.
O fainting Cause! but thus my Griefs demand him.

[Kneeling.
[While the King raises Ximena, enter Alonzo, and whispers Alvarez.
Alv.
This Instant, say'st thou? Can I leave my Son?

Alon.
The Matter's more important than your Stay.
Make Haste, my Lord.

Alv.
What can thy Transport mean?
Be plain.

Alon.
We have no Time to lose in Words,
Away, I say.

Alv.
Lead on, and ease my Wonder.

[Exeunt.
Enter Carlos, and kneels to the King.
King.
O rise, my Warrior, raise thee to my Breast,
And in thy Master's Heart repeat thy Triumphs.

Car.
These Honours, Sir, to any Sense but mine,
Might lift its Transports to Ambition's Height;
But while Ximena's Sorrows press my Heart,
Forgive me, if despairing of Repose,
I taste no Comfort in the Life she seeks;
And urge the Issue of her Grief's Appeal.

King.
Ximena, 'tis most true, has lost a Father,
But thou hast sav'd her Country from its Fate,
And the same Vertue that demands thy Life,
Owes more than Pardon to the publick Weal.

Xim.
My Royal Lord, vouchsafe my Griefs a Hearing;
O think not, Sir, because my Spirits faint,
That the firm Conscience of my Duty staggers.
The Criminal I charge, has kill'd my Father;
And, tho' his Valour has preserv'd the State,
Yet every Subject is not wrong'd like me,
Therefore with Ease may pardon, what they feel not:
As he has sav'd a Nation from its Foes,
The Thanks that Nation owes him, are but just,
And I must join the general Voice t'applaud him:
But all the Tribute, that my Heart can spare him,
Is Tears of Pity; while my Wrongs pursue him,
What more than Pity can those Wrongs afford?
What less than Justice can my Duty ask?
If publick Obligations must be paid him,
Let every single Heart give equal Share:
(Carlos has prov'd, that mine is not ungrateful)
But must my Duty yield such Disproportion?
Must on my Heart a Father's Blood be levy'd,
And my whole Ruin pay the Publick Thanks?
If Blood for Blood might be before demanded,
Is it less due, because his Fame's grown greater?
Shall Vertue, that shou'd guard, insult your Laws,
And tollerate our Passions to infringe 'em?
If to defend the Publick, may excuse
A private Wrong, how is the Publick safe?
How is the Nation from a Foe preserv'd,
If every Subject's Life is at his Mercy?
My Duty, Sir, has spoken, and kneels for Judgment.

Car.
(Apart.)
O Noble Spirit, how thou charm'st my Sense,
And giv'st my Heart a Pleasure in my Ruin.

King,
Raise thee, Ximena, and compose thy Thoughts,
As thou to Carlos' Deeds hast spoke impartial,
So to thy Vertue, that pursues him, we
Must give an equal Plaudit of our Wonder:
But we have now our Duty to discharge,
Which far from blaming, shall exalt thy own:
If thy chaste Fame, which we confess sublime,
Compels thy Duty to suppress thy Love,
To raise yet higher then thy matchless Glory,
Prefer thy Native Country to them both,
And to the Publick Tears resign thy Victim:
Where a whole People owe their Preservation,
Shall private Justice do a publick Wrong,
And feed thy Vengeance with the general Sorrow?

Xim.
Is then my Cause the Publick's Victim?

King.
No.
We've yet a Hope to conquer thy Resentment,
And rather wou'd compose than silence it:
For if our Arguments seem yet too weak
To guard thy Vertue from the least Reproach,
Behold the generous Sanction that protects it,
Read there the Pardon which thy Father gives him,
And with his dying Hand assigns thy Beauties.

Xim.
My Father's Pardon!

King,
Read, and raise thy Wonder.

Xim.
(Reads)
‘Alvarez wrong'd me in my Master's Favour,
‘Carlos is brave, and has deserv'd Ximena!

Car.
O Soul of Honour! now lamented Victory!

King.
Now, fair Ximena, now resume thy Peace,
Reduce thy Vengeance to thy Father's Will,
And join the Hand his Honour has forgiven.

Xim.
All-gracious Heav'n! have my swoln Eyes their Sense.

D. San.
O tottering Hope, but I have yet a Thought,
That will compel her Vertue to pursue him.

Xim.
Why did you shew me, Sir, this wounding Goodness?
This Legacy, tho' fit for him to leave,
Wou'd in his Daughter be Reproach to take;
Honour unquestion'd may forgive a Foe,
But who'll not doubt it when it spares a Lover?
If you propos'd to mitigate my Griefs,
You shou'd have hid this cruel Obligation,
Why wou'd you set such Vertues in my View,
And make the Father dearer than the Lover?

King.
Since with such Rigour thou pursu'st thy Vengeance,
And what we meant shou'd pacify, provokes it,
Attend submissive to our last Resolve:
For since thy Honour's so severely strict,
As not to ratify thy Father's Mercy,
We'll right at once thy Duty and thy Lover:
Give thee the Glory of his Life pursu'd,
And seal his Pardon to reward thy Vertue.

Xim.
Avert it Heav'n, that e'er my guilty Heart
Shou'd impiously insult a Father's Grave,
And yield his Daughter to the Hand that kill'd him.

D. San.
Unnatural Thought! Madam, suppress your Tears,
Your murder'd Father was my dearest Friend,
Permit me therefore in your sinking Cause,
To offer an Expedient may support it.

Xim.
Whatever Right or Justice may, I am bound
In Duty to pursue, and thank your Friendship.

D. San.
Thus then to Royal Justice I appeal,
And in Ximena's Right her Advocate,
Demand from Carlos your Reverse of Pardon.

King.
What means thy Transport?

D. San.
Sir, I urge your Laws,
And since her Duty's forc'd to these Extreams,
There's yet a Law from whence there's no Appeal,
A Right, which e'en your Crown's oblig'd to grant her,
The Right of Combat, which I here demand;
And ask her Vengeance from a Champion's Sword.

Car.
O Sacred Sir, I cast me at your Feet,
And beg your Mercy wou'd relieve my Woes;
Since her firm Duty is inflexible,
Consign her Victim to the braver Sword.
Grant this Expedient to acquit my Crime,
Or silence with my Arm her Heart's Reproaches:
O nothing is so painful as Suspense,
This Way our Griefs are equally reliev'd,
Her Duty's full discharg'd, your Justice crown'd,
And Conquest must attend Superior Vertue.

King.
This barbarous Law, which yet is unrepeal'd,
Has often against Right, gross Wrongs supported,
And robb'd our State of many noble Subjects;
Nor ever was our Mercy tempted more
T'oppose its Force, than in our Care for Carlos:
But since his Peace depends upon his Love,
And cruel Love insists upon its Right,
We'll trust his Vertues to the Chance of Combat,
And let his Fate reproach, or win Ximena.

Xim.
What unforeseen Calamities surround me?

King.
Ximena! now no more complain, we grant
Thy Suit, but where's this Champion of thy Cause?
Whose Appetite of Honour is so keen,
As to confront in Arms this lawrell'd Brow,
And dare the shining Terrors of his Sword?

D. San.
Behold th'Assailant of this glorious Hero,
Your Leave, dread Sir, thus to appel him forth.

[Draws.
Bel.
Hold Heart, and spare me from the publick Shame.

[Aside.
D. San.
Carlos, behold the Champion of Ximena,
Behold th'Avenger of brave Gormaz' Blood,
Who calls thee Traytor to thy injur'd Love,
Ungrateful to the Sighs that pitied thee,
And proudly partial thy Father's Falshood:
These Crimes my Sword shall prove upon thy Heart,
And to defend them dares thee to the Combat.

Car.
Open the Lists, and give the Assailant Room,
There on his Life my injur'd Sword shall prove,
This Arm ne'er drew it but in Right of Honour:
First, for thy Slander, Sanchez, I defy thee,
And throwing to thy Teeth the Traytor's Name,
Will wash th'Imputation with thy Blood;
And prove thy Vertue false as is thy Spirit:
For not Ximena's Cause but Charms have fir'd thee,
Vainly thou steal'st thy Courage from her Eyes,
And basely stain'st the Vertue that subdu'd her.

D. San.
O that thy Fame in Arms—

King.
Sanchez, forbear—
Tis not your Tongues must arbitrate your Strife,
Let in the Lists your Vauntings be approv'd.
Whose Arm, Ximena, shall defend your Cause?

Xim.
O Force of Duty! Sir, the Arm of Sanchez.

D. San.
My Word's my Gage.

King.
'Tis well, the Lists are set,—
Let on the Morn the Combatants be cited,
And, Felix, you be Umpire of the Field.

Car.
The Valiant, Sir, are never unprepar'd,
O Sir, at once relieve my Soul's Suspence,
And let this Instant Hour decide our Fate:

D. San.
This Moment, Sir—I join in that with Carlos.

King.
Since both thus press it, be it now decided.
Carlos be ready at the Trumpet's Call,
You, Felix, when the Combat's done, conduct
The Victor to our Presence—Now, Ximena,
As thou art just or cruel in thy Duty,
Expect the Issue will reward or grieve thee:
Sanchez set forward—Carlos we allow
Thy pitied Love a Moment with Ximena.

[Exit King and Train.
D. San.
A fruitless Moment that must prove his last.

[Exit.
Car.
Ximena! O permit me e'er I die,
To tell thy Heart, thy hard Unkindness kills me.

Xim.
Ah Carlos, can thy Plaints reproach my Duty,
Nay, art thou more than Sanchez is, in Danger?

Car.
Or thou more injur'd than thy hapless Father,
Whose greater Heart forgave my Sense of Honour?
Thou can'st not think I speak regarding Life,
Which hopeless of thy Love's not worth my Care,
But oh! it strikes me with the last Despair,
To think that lov'd Ximena's Heart had less
Compassion than my mortal Enemy;
My Life had then indeed been worth Acceptance,
Had thy relenting Throes of Pity sav'd it:
But, as it is pursu'd to these Extreams,
Thus made the Victim of superfluous Fame,
And doom'd the Sacrifice of filial Rigour,
These Arms shall open to thy Champion's Sword,
And glut the Vengeance, that supports thy Glory.

Xim.
Hast thou no Honour, Carlos, to defend?

[Trembling.
Car.
How can I lose what Sanchez cannot gain?
For where's his Honour, where there's no Resistance?
Is it for me to guard Ximena's Foe,
Or turn outragious on the friendly Breast,
Which her distressful Charms have warm'd to right her?

Xim.
O cruel Carlos! thus to rack my Heart
With hard Reproaches, that thou know'st are groundless;
Why dost thou talk thus cruelly of Death,
And give me Terrors unconceiv'd before?
What tho' my Force of Duty has pursu'd thee,
Has thou not left thy Courage to defend thee?
O! is thy Quarrel to our Race reviv'd,
Cou'd'st thou to right thy Honour, kill my Father?
And now not guard it to destroy Ximena?

Car.
O heav'nly Sound, O Joy unfelt before!

Xim.
O! Is my Duty then not thought compulsive?
Can'st thou believe I'm pleas'd while I pursue thee?
Or think'st thou I'm not pleas'd the King preserv'd thee?
And that thy Courage yet may ward my Vengeance?
O if thou knew'st what Transports fill'd my Heart,
When first I heard the Moors had fled before thee,
Thy Love wou'd feel Confusion for my Shame,
And scarce forgive the Passion thou reproachest:
O Carlos, guard thy Life, and save Ximena!

Car.
And save Ximena! O thou hast fir'd my Heart
With animated Love, and sav'd thy Carlos—
[Sound Trumpets.
But hark the Trumpet calls me to the List!

Xim.
May Heav'ns high Care, and all its Angels guard thee.

Car.
Words wou'd but wrong my Heart, my Sword shall speak it:
Sanchez, I come—Impatient to chastise
Thy Love, which makes thee now the Criminal;
I might have spar'd thee, had the Rival slept,
But boldly thus avow'd, thou art worth my Sword—
'Tis said the Lion, tho' distrest for Food.
Espying on the Turf the Huntsman sleeping,
Restrains his Hunger, and forbears the Prey,
But when his rousing Foe alarm'd and ready
Uplifts his Javelin brandisht to assail him,
The generous Savage then erects his Crest,
Grinds his sharp Fangs, and with fierce Eyes inflam'd,
Surveys him worthy of his Rage defy'd,
Furious uprearing rushes on the Game,
And crowns at once his Vengeance and his Fame.

[Exit.
Xim.
O glorious Spirit! O hard-fated Vertue!
With what Reluctance has my Heart pursu'd thee?

Bel.
Was ever Breast like mine with Woe divided?
I fear the Dangers of the faithless Sanchez,
And tremble more for his dread Sword's Success:
Shou'd Carlos fall—What stops him from Ximena?
Keep down my Sighs, or seems to rise for her.

Xim.
Tell me, Belzara, was my Terror blameful?
Might not his Passion make my Heart relent,
And feel at such a Time a Pang to save him?

Bel.
So far was your Compassion from a Crime,
That 'tis th'exalted Merit of your Duty;
Had Carlos been a Stranger to your Heart,
Where were the Vertue, that your Griefs pursu'd him?
Were it no Pain to lose him, where the Glory?
The Sacrifice that's great, must first be dear;
The more you Love, the nobler is your Victim.

Xim.
Thy partial Friendship sees not sure my Fault,
I doubt my youthful Ignorance has err'd,
And the strict Matron rigidly severe,
May blame this Weakness of my Woman's Heart:
But let her feel my Tryal first, and if
She blames me then, I will repent the Crime.
[Sound Trumpet at Distance.
Hark, hark, the Trumpet! O tremendous Sound!
Belzara! O the Combat is began,
The agonizing Terror shakes my Soul,
Help me, support me with thy friendly Comforts,
O tell me what my Duty owes a Parent,
And warm my Wishes in his Champion's Favour—
Oh Heav'n! it will not, will not be! my Heart
Rebels, and spite of me inclines to Carlos,
Who now again, in Sanchez, fights my Father;
Now he attacks him, presses, now retreats;
Again recovers, and resumes his Fire
Now grows too strong, and is at last triumphant!

Bel.
Restrain thy Thoughts, collect thy Constancy,
Give not thy Heart imaginary Wounds,
Thy Vertue must be Providence's Care.

Xim.
O guard me Heav'n—Help me to support it! ah!
[Trumpets and Shouts.
'Tis done, those dreadful Shouts proclaim the Victor;
If Carlos conquers, still I've lost a Father;
And if he perishes, then—die Ximena.

Bel.
Conquer who may, no Hope supports Belzara.
Enter Garcia.
Came you, Don Garcia, from the Combat?

Gar.
Madam,
The King, to shew he disapproves the Custom,
Forbad his own Domesticks to be present.
[Shouts nearer.
But I presume 'tis done, these Shouts confirm it;
Hence from this Window, we may guess the Victor.

Xim.
O tell me quickly, while I've Sense to hear thee.

Gar.
O Heav'n, 'tis Sanchez, I see him with his Sword,
In Triumph pressing thro' the Crowd his Way.

Xim.
Sanchez! thou'rt sure deceiv'd, O better yet
Inform thy dazled Eyes.

Gar.
'Tis certain he!
For now he stops, and seems to warn them back;
The Crowd retires, I see him plain, and now
He mounts the Steps that lead to this Apartment.

Xim.
Then fatal Vengeance, thou art dearly sated,
Now Love unbounded may o'erflow my Heart,
And Carlos' Fate without a Crime be mourn'd:
O Sanchez, if poor Carlos told me true,
If 'twas thy Love, not Honour fought my Cause,
Thy Guilt has purchas'd with thy Sword my Scorn,
And made thy Passion wretched as Ximena.

Bel.
Oh Heav'n support her nobler Resolution—
But see, he comes to meet the Disappointment.

Enter Don Sanchez, and lays his Sword at Ximena's Feet.
D. San.
Madam, this Sword that in your Cause was drawn—

Xim.
Stain'd with the Blood of Carlos, kills Ximena.

D. San.
I come to mitigate your Griefs.

Xim.
Avant, avoid me, wing thee from my Sight,
O thou hast given me for Revenge, Despair,
Hast ravisht with thy murtherous Arm my Peace,
And robb'd my Wishes of their dearest Object.

D. San.
Hear me but speak.

Xim.
Can'st thou suppose 'twill please me,
To hear thy Pride triumphant, paint my Ruin,
Vaunt thy vain Prowess, and reproach my Sorrows?

D. San.
Those Sorrows, wou'd you hear my Story—

Xim.
Hence.
To Regions distant, as thy Soul from Joy,
Fly, and in gloomy Horrors waste thy Life:
Remorse, and pale Affliction wait thee to
Thy Rest, Repose forsake thee, frightful Dreams
Alarm thy Sleeps, and in thy waking Hours,
May Woes like mine pursue thy Steps for ever.

Bel.
O charming Rage! how cordially she hates him!

Enter King.
King.
What, still in Tears, Ximena? Still complaining!
Cannot thy Duty's full Discharge content thee?
Repin'st thou at the Act of Providence?
And think'st thy Cause still wrong'd in Heav'ns Decree?

Xim.
O far, Sir, from my Soul be such a Thought,
I bow submissive to high Heav'n's Appointment,
But is Affliction impious in its Sorrow?
Tho' Vengeance to a Father's Blood was due,
Is it less, Glorious, that I priz'd the Victim?
Has Nature lost its Privilege to weep,
When all that's valuable in Life is gone?
O Carlos, Carlos! I shall soon be with thee.

King.
Are then these Tears for Carlos—O Ximena!
The vanquisht Sanchez has deceiv'd thy Grief,
And made this Tryal of thy generous Heart,
For know thy Carlos lives, and lives to adore thee.

Xim.
What means my Royal Lord?

King.
Inform her, Sanchez.

D. San.
The Fortune of the Combat I had told before,
Had, Sir, her Fright endu'd my Speech,
I wou'd have told you, Madam, as oblig'd
In Honour to the conquering Sword of Carlos,
How nobly, for your sake, he spar'd your Champion;
When on the Earth succumbent, and disarm'd,
I lay: ‘Live, Sanchez, said the generous Victor,
‘The Life that fights Ximena's Cause, is Sacred;
‘Take back thy Sword, and at her Feet present
‘The glorious Trophy which her Charms have won,
‘The last Oblation, that Despair can make her.
Toucht with the noble Fullness of his Heart,
I flew to execute the grateful Charge,
But, Madam, your Affright mistook the Victor,
And your impatient Griefs refus'd me Audience.

King.
Now think, Ximena, one Moment think for
Carlos!

Xim.
O Love! O persecuted Heart!
Instruct me Heav'n to support my Fame,
To right my Passion, and revere my Father.

D. San.
And now with just Confusion, Sir, I own
In me 'twas guilty Love, that drew my Sword;
But since th'Event has crown'd a nobler Passion,
I plead the Merit of that Sword's Defeat,
Regret the Error, and intreat for Pardon.

King.
Sanchez, thy Crime is punisht in it self,
We late have heard of thy retracted Vows,
Which on thy strict Allegiance we enjoin
Thy Honour, instantly to ratify:
Suppress thy Tears, Belzara, he shall right thee.

Xim.
'Tis fixt, a Beam of heav'nly Light breaks forth,
And shews my ruin'd Peace its last Resource.

Gar.
Don Carlos, Sir, attends your Royal Pleasure.

King.
Has he your Leave, Ximena, to approach?

Xim.
O Sir, yet hold, I dare not see him now,
While my depending Justice was my Guard,
I saw him fearless from Assaults of Love:
But now my vanquisht Vengeance dreads his Merit,
And conscious Duty warms me to avoid him;
Since then my Heart's impartial to his Vertues,
O do not call me cruel to his Love,
If I in Reverence to a Father's Blood,
Shou'd shut my Sorrows ever from his Sight;
For tho' you raise above Mankind his Merit,
And I confess it—still he has kill'd my Father—
Nay, tho' I grant the Fact may plead for Mercy,
Yet 'twou'd in me be impious to reward it;
My Eyes may mourn, but never must behold him more:
Yet, e'er I part, let, Sir, my humblest Sense
Applaud your Mercy, and confess your Justice:
Hence to some Sacred Cloister I'll retire,
And dedicate my future Days to Heav'n—
'Tis done—O lead me to my peaceful Cell,
One Sigh for Carlos—Now vain World farewell.

[As Xim. is going off.
Enter Alvarez and Alonzo.
Alv.
Turn, turn, Ximena, O prepare to hear
A Story will distract thy Sense with Joy,
Drive all thy Sorrows from thy sinking Heart,
And crown thy Duty with triumphant Love.
Pardon, dread Sir, this Tumult of my Soul,
That carries in my Rudeness my Excuse;
O press me not to tell Particulars,
But let my Tidings leap at once the Bounds
Of your Belief, and in one Burst of Joy
Inform my Royal Master, that his Crown's Support,
My vanquisht Friend, thy Father, Gormaz, lives;
He lives in Health confirm'd from Mortal Danger,
These Eyes have seen him, these blest Arms embrac'd him.
The Means, th'Occasion of his Death suppos'd,
Wou'd ask more Words than I have Breath to utter,
Alonzo knows it all—O where's my Carlos?

King.
Fly, Sanchez! make him with this News, thy Friend.

Alv.
O lead me, lead me, to his Heart's Relief.—

[Exeunt.
Xim.
O Heav'n! Alvarez wou'd not sure deceive me.

King.
Proceed, Alonzo, and impart the Whole,
Whence was his Death so firmly credited,
And his Recovery not before reveal'd?

Alon.
My Liege, the great Effusion of his Blood
Had such Effect on his deserted Spirits,
That I, who saw him, judg'd him quite expir'd:
But when the Abbot, at whose House he lay,
With friendly Sorrow washt his hopeless Wound,
His heaving Breast discover'd Life's Return;
When calling strait for Help, on stricter Search,
His Wound was found without a mortal Symptom:
And when his Senses had resum'd their Function,
His first Words spoke his generous Heart's Concern
For Carlos, and Ximena; when being told
How far her filial Vengeance had pursu'd him:
Is't possible, he cry'd? Oh Heav'n! then wept,
And beg'd his Life might be one Day conceal'd,
That such exalted Merit of her Duty
Might raise her Vertue worthy of his Love:
But, Sir, to tell you how Alvarez met him,
What generous Reconcilements pass'd between them,
Wou'd ask more Time, than publick Joy cou'd spare.
Let it suffice, the Moment he had heard
Ximena had appeal'd brave Carlos to the Lists,
We flew with Terror to proclaim him Living—
But, Sir, so soon the Combat follow'd your
Decree, that breathless we arriv'd too late,
And had not his Physicians, Sir, prescrib'd
His Wound Repose, himself had ventur'd forth
To throw his Errors at your Feet for Pardon.

King.
Not only Pardon, but our Love shall greet him.
Brave Carlos, shall himself be Envoy of
Our Charge, and gratulate his blest Recovery:
Has he your Leave, Ximena, now t'approach you?

Xim.
My Senses stagger with tumultuous Joy,
My Spirits hurry to my Heart's Surprize,
And sinking Nature faints beneath the Transport.

[Enter Alvarez, Sanchez, and Carlos.
King.
Look up, Ximena, and compleat thy Joy.

Xim.
(Embracing.)
My Carlos! oh!

Car.
(Embracing.)
Ximena! O my Heart!

Alv.
O Carlos! O Ximena, yet suppress
These Transports till kind Gormaz' Hand confirms them:
First pay your Duty there, haste to his Feet,
And let his Sanction consecrate your Love.

King.