University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE, a Part of Abdalla's Garden.
Carlos, alone.
Carl.

SCENE II.

Pizarro to him, Carlos.
Carl.
What Tidings bears my Friend?

Piz.
Most opportune, our Bark is hir'd;
A trading Vessel, quick of Sail,
That, 'twixt Oran, and our Algiers,
Alternate shapes her Course:
And still, at her Return,
Moors in yon Creek that bounds Abdalla's Garden.
This happy Accident
Blunts all Suspicion, and befriends
Our secret, safe, Departure.

Carl.
'Would, that auspicious Hour were come!
Oh, that we now,
Rich in the Treasure of our Loves,
Were bounding o'er the briny Wave!
I, bless'd in my Zorayda;—

Piz.
I, in my Selima.
The Hour will come.

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.

SCENE IV.

Pizarro, Selima.
Piz.
The Time grows busy, and invites
Our best Dispatch—Is all prepar'd?

Sel.
Our Caskets and Attire,
Safely bestow'd, wait but th'Approach of Gloom
For safe Conveyance—We shall not come
Two empty Beggars to your Arms.

Piz.
O Selima!
I have a Soul, that can contemn
External Wealth compar'd with thee.
To fold you thus, is to be rich
As wide Morocco's Kings.

Sel.
Such ever is the Wooer's Strain;
Soothing us with obsequious Fondness:
But when the Gordian Knot is ty'd,
You then assume tyrannick Sway,
And we're domestick Slaves.

Piz.
Fear not that Change: You shall to Death
Command my fervent Heart.

Sel.

Exeunt.

SCENE V.

SCENE, another Part of Abdalla's Garden.
Enter Morat.
Morat.
This stubborn Maid meets not my Flame
With suiting Fervour. Scorn and Coldness
Sit on her sullen Brow,
And speak a Heart estrang'd.
Shall I then link me to Disdain?
A gen'rous Pride forbids that Shame.
I'll seek her out, and sound her inmost Thoughts.
Here, in her private Haunts, 'tis said,
A seeming Turk, a comely White,
Holds her in secret Converse.
That wakes Surmise; and just Suspicions
Shall spur me to Revenge.
Exit Morat.

SCENE VI.

SCENE, Prospect of the Grotto.
Carlos; Zorayda, weeping.
Carl.
Oh, spare that precious, pearly Dew,
Misfortune is too richly graced
With such a Pomp of Sorrow.—
My Heart weeps Blood for ev'ry falling Tear.
Teach not disastrous Fate
To grow in Love with Beauty in Distress.

Zoray.
I stand as on a Rock:
The foaming Waves, with emulous Strife,
Mount up on ev'ry Side
To sink me in the horrid Deep.

Carl.
Fright not thy tender Soul. These
Arms of Love,
Strong in thy Aid, shall snatch thee thence,
And bear thee o'er th'imagin'd Flood.

Zoray.
Alas! To-morrow—
Morat—I dye beneath that Thought.

Carl.
This Night is ours: We'll seize the Time,
And be before-hand with the Fates.
A Band of chosen Friends are ready
By Force to bear thee off secure,
Should Opposition cross our purpos'd Flight.

Zoray.
Tax not my Fondness, if I seek
Protection in thy Arms:
Here all my Cares are lull'd to Peace.

SCENE VII.

Morat, behind; Carlos, Zorayda.
Mor.
'Tis, as I thought: She's lock'd in his Embrace.

Zoray.
We are surpriz'd.—

Mor.
Perfidious Maid!
And is it thus, your treach'rous Heart
Betrays Abdalla's tender Care.
Ha! wondrous Humbleness of Soul!
What, joining with a grov'ling Slave,
New ransom'd from the Chain?
Insolent, base, Intruder!

Carl.
Uncivil, base, Barbarian!

Mor.
That Garb assum'd, dishonestly prophan'd,
To cloak thy guilty, treach'rous Purpose,
Demands due Chastisement.

Carl.
Hold off; or fear to wake a Rage
Which may be fatal to Thee.

Mor.
Are you so bold?

[Drawing his Scimitar.
Zoray.
Protect him Heav'ns!

SCENE VIII.

As Morat is going to attack Carlos, enter Pizarro with Sailors.
Pizar.
Seize on the boist'rous Moor;
Disarm his dang'rous Hand.

Mor.
Villainous Traytors!

Pizar.
Go, bind him to some distant Tree;
If he resists, or with a clam'rous Tongue
Presumes t'impede our Safety,
That Scimitar instructs you what to do.

Mor.
Curse on my adverse Stars!

[Morat dragg'd off.
Carl.
Still my Preserver! Oh, what Thanks!
Zorayda,—thy poor flutt'ring Heart
Pants like the captiv'd Dove with Fear.
All's well, my Love.

Pizar.
The Ev'ning's Gloom descends apace;
And from the Shore a fav'ring Breeze
Plays in the rustling Shrouds,
Inviting our Escape.

SCENE IX.

Selima, Carlos, Zorayda, Pizarro.
Sel.
In the dark Grove, that fronts the Shore,
Your trusty Page, in secret Watch,
Broods o'er our Caskers safely stow'd,
And waits impatient of Command.

Carl.
Time and our Safety urge the instant Hour,
And chide Delay.—Smile, my Zorayda,
And charm the Heav'ns to bless our Flight!

CHORUS.