 | Ximenes |  |
SCENE III.
Enter Leonora and Lucinda.Lucinda.
No, Leonora; on thy wounded mind
I never shall, in vain, obtrude the dictates
Of cold, abstracted reason; that stale nostrum,
That panacea with philosophers,
Who, in the mass, and pomp confused of study,
Perversely, never read the page prescribed,
The page of most importance, human nature.
Too well I know the power of love to thwart it.
'Tis, in the tenour of its general action,
Soft, and persuasive; 'tis, to all appearance,
Humane, submissive, and a foe to tumult;
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But rouze it by some rude external cause,
That oft inopportunely supervenes,
To chafe its placid, and translucent current;
Then, in its rage, it tears, it drives the soul;
It is resistless as the whirlwind's force.
Rather I would advise thee, in thy breast,
Fair virtue's sacred mansion, to preserve
Inviolate the pure, empyreal flame;
With all its fears; with those anxieties
Which love is doomed to suffer, lest its raptures
Give to an earthly pilgrim too much bliss:
Rather I would advise thee to survey
The future blooming scenes that are displayed
By Hope's auspicious hand; and oft we find
The promises of Hope performed by time.
Leonora.
How my Lucinda's pleasing accents soothe me!
In unison they flow with my fond wishes;
They flow in unison with Zaigri's voice!
Thy doctrine is his own; and, sure, it pours
Sweet adulation in the ear of Love.
Oft he has told me—“Gentle Leonora,
“Calm be thy bosom; for its perturbations
“Must ever torture mine: our mutual passion
“(Whatever to oppose me, might be urged,
“In haughty tone, by prelates, or by muftis)
“Hath innocence, and virtue for its basis;
“And while we keep it fixed on this foundation,
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“Who, to effect his will, annihilates
“The prejudices, and the power of man.
“In him, and time confide; his providence,
“Oft slowly, as his wisdom planned its progress,
“But ever, surely, is matured by time.”
Lucinda.
Then let thy friend's and lover's kind remonstrance
Compose thy harrassed mind, and to thy fancy
(Thy fancy not erroneous) break the bars,
Only by fear strengthened to adamant,
The awful, but the temporary bars
'Twixt happiness, and thee!
Leonora.
Trust me, Lucinda,
Thy counsel I respect; revere my duty
Of resignation to the will of Heaven.
Yet I'm a being of the human species,
And for those objects which attach my soul,
Must have my doubts, fears, and anxieties.
What formidable foes annoy my rest!
Revenge, ambition, and fell institution,
Still more a tyrant than the other two,
O'er nature's peaceful, and innoxious laws;
Her laws benevolent; sources divine
Of all true, permanent felicity!
These cruel foes by day corrode my quiet,
A sickly hue diffusing o'er my life;
And oft, by night, invade me in a dream;
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Of late, in feverish, interrupted slumbers,
Incongruous, and contrasted scenes I imaged:—
Our Andalusia ravaged by the Moors;
And yon Alhambra in its former splendour,
And I delighted in the revolution;
For Zaigri, as I thought, o'er fair Granada
The sceptre swayed, with me, a turbaned queen!
But this fine spell was, in a moment broken.
From that rich plain, to an Arabian desart,
Methought, we were transported; mixed with merchants
And pilgrims, in a helpless caravan,
Dying with thirst, and hunger; soon a vortex
Of burning sand arose; which, whirled with fury,
Wrapped us in death, and ended all our woes!
Lucinda.
The dreadful phantoms, which, in dreams, alarm us,
Should not disturb the waking, reasoning mind.
Come, Leonora, let thy friend console thee:—
Hast thou a friend, by her experienced woes,
More privileged than I, to recommend
A mind that can, by moral discipline,
Exalt itself above solicitude?
Thou knowest, that, in Alphonso's virtuous love,
I was supremely blest; my youthful soldier
Was wounded, and expired, before Oran.
But ere he died, he wrote me an adieu,
Concise, indeed, in words, but in its pathos,
A most affecting funeral oration.
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“In the blest region, for two faithful lovers;
“A bower of myrtle, and celestial palms!
“I fear, thy image, almost equally,
“Divided, with my God, my parting soul.”
While the farewell I read, a torpor seized me;
A stupefaction, from the sudden blow.
Then, tears of love embalmed the hallowed paper:
Next, I looked up to Heaven's omniscient eye;
To Providence, my father, and my judge;
Whose presence awed me to restrain my tears;
Lest I had given Alphonso's memory,
In grief's excess, too querulous a tribute.
Leonora.
So strongly doth Lucinda paint her fortune,
That while I hear it, I forget my own.
Lucinda.
Then, with the sacred sympathy of friendship,
Let us resolve to blend our softened sorrows;
Softened by reason, and by resignation.
Let us retire to thy delightful arbour,
Which overlooks Granada's fertile plain,
That glows with all the brightest tints of nature,
And all her fragrance breathes. There, the lute's note
Shall undulate on Zephyr's balmy wing:
The sun descending; the pure sky of Spain;
Trees, fruits, and flowers; the varied sweets of nature,
With musick shall unite congenial powers.
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They purify it from the servitude
To care, and passion; elevate our wishes
Above the province of capricious fortune;
Transport us to a mount, whose glorious summit
Virtue hath crowned with never-fading bloom!
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