 | The Faithful Bride of Granada |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE A Castle.Enter Oliman.
Olim.
I heard the dismal screaming Sound! 'twas murder!
And that which makes Mankind with horror start,
Charm'd my relentless Ears; yes, proud Ozmin,
Now thou hast dearly paid thy causeless scorn,
Thy Heart's best Blood, repairs thy base Tongues wrong!
Zelinda, fairer than those beautious Maids,
Our Prophet paints; Zelinda shall be mine!
At least her Father can no more oppose,
My Mountain Slave, my faithful true Abass,
2
Enter Abass: His Scimiter drawn and bloody.
Welcome, bold African; thy Face is veil'd
In Sooty black; so are thy Purposes:
Confirm my fatal Hopes,
And say, thy Scimiter is stain'd with Blood;
The Blood of Ozmin!
Abass.
Tis so.—
Ol.
Oh! Let me clasp thee with a fierce Embrace,
Thou darling Instrument of just Revenge!
Ozmin was my Kinsman; from the Spring
Our Noble Warlike Zegree Line arose:
Nor is't my fault Fortune's Ebb is low;
The Great shou'd learn to prize daring Merit.
For howsoever depress'd, Revenge is ours.
Had Ozmin thought his Daughter had been mine,
Himself alive, and safe, but after Death
Instruction comes too late—
By Heaven! the safe contrivance crowns the Work;
When for my service, he deny'd the Charmer,
I stifl'd all my Rage, fawn'd like a Slave,
Begg'd he wou'd forget my high presuming.
He did: I, at that moment, seal'd his Death.
Abass.
My Lord, he is not dead!
Ol.
Ha!
Abass.
Nor can he long Survive.
When we had drawn him off to view a Breach,
Feign'd at the end of this same Castle-wall,
As with a narrow Eye, he sought the place;
We turn'd our pointed Scimiters upon him,
[illeg.]iz'd, he bellow'd Murder! Treason!
[illeg.] that curst Abencerrago,
[illeg.]ong Detatchment was in hearing;
3
But with kind Arms, catch'd the falling Ozmin,
And softly brings him on to his own Tower;
The rest I led (by you employ'd) are slain;
So that the great Seceet is now secure,
And only rests in your Breast and mine.
Ol.
Alas! what Secret? (Ozmin lives) what Hopes?
Abass.
Look up, my gracious Lord, if from his Death
You date your Joys, be then assur'd he dyes;
This Sword was dipt in Mortal Poyson;
This has pierc'd him, and Humane Aid is vain.
Ol.
Welcome as the voice of Fate! a pleasing Sence.
Thy Story bears; for the Hoarse Raven's Croak
Is welcome to the long expecting Heir,
Who has been with-held by some tenaceous Gripe;
And all the generous purpose of his Soul debarr'd.
Now let intestine Broils devour his State;
Granada sink, all Native Interest dye;
Fame's an empty sound, Love weighs the Ballance down.
Abass.
I am the humble Creature of your Will,
Form'd by your Breath; and acting still by your command.
Ol.
Be vigilant as Misers 'ore their Wealth,
And bold as naked Innocence; so shall
The deluded World be ours (Trample here)
Hark! what noise is that?
Abas.
My Lord, it is—
Ol.
Thou art alarm'd! be gone; but wait near my call.
(Ex. Abass.
Sinon! to me transfer thy wondrous Act;
Gloss 'ore my Words; with seeming Truth teach thou
My Tongue to sooth, and to betray.
(Exit.
4
Albo.
Muly give the Signal for our entrance:
Open the Gates; let the Portcullis down;
How fares it, Noble Zegree, worthy Foe?
Oz.
Dying with Wounds and o'recome with Shame;
Cou'd I, misled by the descending Curse
Of my Fore-fathers Rage, call thee a Foe?
I did, I cou'd, and now too late Repent!
Lift my Eyes too late towards such Vertues!
Virtue's the Link of all Heroick Souls;
And generous Enemies act by the same Rule
In War, each panting for the Goal of Honour,
You have reach'd it: you wou'd have sav'd Ozmin.
Ozmin! who, when his recorded Deeds appear,
Can never hope an Act like this.
Alb.
To lend thee Aid, oppress'd by base Villains,
Was requir'd, as I bear a humane Form:
Natures Law, from the Superior Being,
Exacts compassion; else were we level
With the Savage Race, or sunk beneath them.
This I had done, prompted by Humanity alone:
But Ozmin, I have grateful Tyes to thee:
My Son, that prop to my declining Age,
Is snatch'd by th'uncertain Fate of War;
And held by Abdolin our Factions Scourge,
A Prisoner, without the Power of Ransom,
But your Generosity has preserv'd the Youth,
And oft redeem'd him from their Headlong Rage;
So he writes himself, and calls ye still Protector.
Oz.
Why were these fatal Factions first begun?
We're he Incendaries; we divide the People,
Till on Granada certain ruine falls.
5
Which Spain will end—
So shall our City and Name be lost;
My Genius labours in the Pangs of Death.
Cou'd thought produce the gentle Off-spring Peace,
How willing I'd think no more, no more
Croud this busie Stage; haste to my Exit,
And bless our Prophet for eternal Rest.
I have a Daughter—
Alb.
Sure, 'tis the fair Zelinda:
My Son is wondrous Lavish in her Praise.
Enter Oliman.
Ol.
Where is he? where's my Lord! my Noble Kinsman!
Ha! in Blood! O cruel Error!
Oh hard Decree! Of too, too rigid Fate!
The worthy'st and the best are still destroy'd;
Thou lopp'st the Hero, and thou spar'st the Slave!
Who are ye? Enemies! Abencerragoes!
Here take my Life, alass! too far prolong'd,
And let me dye with this good Man.
Oz.
Cease thy vain noise, and if thy Griefs are real,
Give thou attention to my dying Words,
And be a sacred Witness of the Truth.
Ol.
Defend me, Mahomet, as I obey!
Oz.
The Noble Albovade these Succours brought,
When by assassinating Fiends surrounded;
For which, and for the Peace my Soul desires,
Now being on the Wing to reach that Place,
Where only Peace, and blissful Quiet dwells,
Your God-like Son, the brave Abinomin,
Whom late you mention'd with such tender Care,
Zelinda my belov'd only Child,
If I mistake not, both their wishes meet.
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With Happiness, and ease the sting of Death;
Thus the long jarring Families unite,
And these two Lovers Seal the Bond for ever!
Alb.
I swear by Alla—
That shou'd my Son once dare but form a Thought,
To mar the Friendship which concludes the War,
I'd rank him amongst mine and his Country Foes.
Oz.
Now, Sir, to you, I charge you by the care,
I've shown still to preserve thee from contempt,
Still to supply thee with a liberal Hand,
And raise thy wanting Fortunes to thy Birth,
Haste to my Wife, support her in her Woes;
For she is good, and they will fall with weight;
Soften the sad Relation of my end;
Tell her, my latest wish is Peace.
Ol.
I will, if I can find my way for Tears!
Oz.
Bear to that lovely Partner of my Bed,
My Abenade, one tender last farewel!
Conjure her not to mourn, nor seek Revenge;
Enjoin Zelinda, the softest Copy
Of obedient Maids, bid her continue
To obey. Oh Prophet! I can no more.
(Faints.
Alb.
Help! all gently raise, and bear him in,
Let the fam'd Arabian search his Wounds,
Tho' all I fear in vain.
Ol.
The poyson'd Steel has found its fatal way;
Thy help indeed is vain.
(Aside.
Alb.
Zegree, thou hast heard all thy Lord's desire,
What a fair prospect he has laid for Peace;
Proclaim it in the Alhambra Towers:
If your Councels shall embrace the Offer,
Accord again will rear her banish'd Face,
And Children yet unborn bless the Union:
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(Exit into the Castle.
Manet Oliman.
Ol.
Farewel!—
Thou easie Fool! Zelinda wed thy Son!
O pretty turn! the Mockery of Fate!
No, first thy fertile Brain must cease to work,
This Hand to act, this burning Heart to love!
What, Ho, Abass!
Enter Abass.
Abass.
My Lord—
Ol.
Ozmin is dead!
Abass.
With him dye all my Patrons black despair!
And from his Tomb, let Pleasure rise and grow.
Ol.
If Ozmin's Will's obeyed, we are yet undone!
The Wretch wou'd Bribe the Powers with darling Peace,
And give the Glory of our Zegree Line
To that curst Race, whom, for long Ages past,
We still were taught in Childhood to abhor!
Revenge and Fury often meet and clasp'd
In the stern Soldiers fierce Embrace of Death;
But Blood and Name were never kindly join'd,
Never in thought, till this detested purpose.
No War by jarring Elements rais'd,
Or differing Nations, was 'ere supply'd,
With half the Fire a Zegree holds against
His Mortal Foe, the Abencerragoe.
Abass.
Cou'd Ozmin in his departing Moments,
Give up his Honour, court Friendship there?
8
Enquire no more, fly strait to Abenade,
Say, her Lord is slain by vilest Treason!
Give thou the Alarm, leave to me the rest.
Abass.
Swift as ill News in Envy's Mouth I'm there.
Exit.
Ol.
With such a Slave, what may not I perform!
The young Abencerragoe is open, free;
Apt to believe all Friends; hard to distrust;
The noble plainness of an honest Mind
Dwells in his Deeds: So wou'd I wish my Foe
To work and mould my well-laid Plot with ease.
I know he Loves the Maid, the charming Fair,
Zelinda: There my Heart's upon the Rack,
Oft have I catch'd their meeting Eyes, and read
The amorous Business of their Thoughts:
But from his cold and dreadful Den I'll raise
The damp of Death; put out their mingling Flames,
Break their fast Vows; and part those happy Lovers;
Yes, by Alla, and by a greater Power!—
Her charms and scorn, I swear I will destroy,
Whoever dares to barr what I'd enjoy.
Exit.
SCENE changes to Granada.
Enter Abdolin, Selim, several Officers and Guards.
(A cry without.)
Long live great Abdolin!—
Selim.
Hail, victorious Prince! the Peoples Darling,
And the last Hope of the declining State:
Your youthful Arm, this Day fledg'd with Conquest,
Will first depress Rebellious Native Moors;
Then drive Invading Spain with shame away.
Abd.
Be this our Victory—
Blest Omen! To that we justly claim,
9
He that Intrenches on another's Right,
Ought to lose even that which Nature gave;
For Nature has set Bounds to our Ambition;
But Head-strong Man, fond of Almighty Power,
Grasps at universal Sway; forgetting the Poor
Tenement he holds with a Precarious Hand.
How soon! how wondrous soon, his vast designs,
And he himself are nothing!
Selim.
Not Oracles speak more Emphatick Truths;
Judgment so ripe, and such early Valour
Must recall Granada's antient Glory.
Abd.
When Fate shall seem to smile, Oh! be not vain;
For often then our turns are swift and sad:
And you, my Soldiers, guard with care our Towers,
Nor let a small success make you secure.
Each to his several Post.
(Exit Officers and Guards.)
Oh, Selim! Do'st thou not find why I play
The Philosopher? Why Conquest sits heavy
On my drooping Heart? Yes, thou knowst it all.
Oh, Curses! dire Curses yet unheard of—
Seize 'em Diseases, Poverty and Shame!
Blast their just blooming Joys! Dole 'em out:
What they have given me, Horror and Despair!
Selim.
Is this a Hero, who wants the Temper
To bear in midst of Pomp a Woman's loss?
Oh frail Humanity! still Passion's Slave.
Can Princes mourn for Baubles? Rave for Girls?
For Female Babies, the stock o'th'Creation?
Which sigh for Man, and cannot fool us
But when we give 'em Power.
Abd.
Blind Wretch! senceless of that lovely Light,
Which strikes Mankind with Adoration!
What are thy Crowd? Zelinda in my View!
When Nature made the beautious Peice so fine,
10
Such Miracles, but shuffle up in haste
The rest, and save the sure insuing Mischiefs,
A Wonder must create.
Selim.
Transports! and Extasies! then I have done.
Abd.
No, tell me again the fatal Story;
I will be calm as suffering Martyrs,
Sedate as Statesmen, when they mean Destruction.
Selim.
You are my Prince; my Faith, my Loyalty,
Nay, my Inclinations, all are yours.
Abd.
Enough of that, good Selim; now proceed.
Selim.
May I then speak with an undaunted Freedom?
Your Look consents; you lov'd Ozmins Daughter;
And close pursu'd the bright inchanting Maid;
Ye found her cold and coy, yet wondrous Fair;
I think you meant not Marriage.
Abd.
Thou sawcy Searcher of my inmost Soul,
I ne're durst ask my self that question.
Selim.
Abinomin, long kept your Prisoner here,
In your luxurious Court, beheld the Virgin:
Love dipt the kindest Darts his Quiver held,
And gave an equal Wound; their Births were so;
Their Fortunes equal; their Loves were Honest;
The Parents hate the youthful pair forgot;
And by desire led, they now are marry'd
Abd.
Is she then gone, even for ever gone!
Are all those charms become another's Right!
Must he, my Foe, possess, whilst I despair?
Methinks I see the transported happy Youth,
Gaze on her starry Eyes, devour her Lips!
Then snatch to his Heart, that whole Natures World,
Of conquering cruel Beauty, cruel to me!
In his fond Arms she melts with glowing Blushes!
Redoubles all his Fires, Oh! speak to me, Slave,
Er'e I go mad with Thought, with curst Reflection!
11
Selim.
A canting Dervise, a Cell-priest did it:
One well us'd to tying those repented Knots;
For Gold he mumbl'd o're the Mistick VVords;
For that damning Coin, a she Slave of hers,
Betray'd it all to me; last Night the time;
No doubt in the absence of her Father,
They took the kind Opportunity, and—
Abd.
Be dumb, nor dare recal the Image back,
Hateful as Death, to one who knows his Heaven is lost,
Oh! thou relentess Tyrant, God of Love!
All thy Pains, thy Pangs are mine, she is blest:
Must the ungrateful still continue so?
Must my poor painful Heart ne're aim at Peace?
VVhilst hers is swell'd with lasting Tides of Joy!
Be just, and let Zelinda taste at least
The Wracks, the sinking VVoes she pours on me!
Selim.
Forget her, Sir; VVomen and the Toys of Love
Shou'd only be the Pastime of great Souls;
VVe nurse the Passion till it Head-strong grows;
Call Reason to your Aid.—
Abd.
No Selim, Reason will not do the VVork,
Revenge shall seize my Heart, and drive from thence
The feebler God away; all softness chace,
From the too-long injur'd Mansion of my Breast,
Destroy Zelinda's Empire, dethrone the Fair,
And reign there with her Imperial Sway;
Revenge, sharp as her scorn, fatal as her Eyes,
Revenge shall smlle when the young Hero dyes.
Yes, I would break through Heaven and Natures Laws,
To reach him, act such Deeds, shou'd force applause,
And Love shall own the Justice of the Cause.
(Exeunt.
End of the First Act.
| The Faithful Bride of Granada | |