University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

On one Side of the Stage enters Zaigri, with three Moorish Prisoners in Chains; to them, on the other Side of the Stage, advances Ximenes.
Ximenes.
To Ximenes when Zaigri's name's announced,
A bright assemblage of the fairest virtues
Inspires my fancy; I forget the pressure
Of age, and sickness, and, awhile, seem strung
With all the vigour of my youthful days.
What is thy present wish, that I can serve?
Too much thou never canst desire of me;
For to thy friendship; to it's active zeal,
I owe my life.—But say; who are these captives?

Zaigri.
The leaders of the late alarming tumult,
Whose fury aimed it's action at thy life.
To thee I bring them; and not more, from zeal
For Ximenes, than from my ardent love
Of universal justice. These bold culprits
Have impiously profaned a solemn treaty;
Profaned the hallowed olive-shade of peace;
And against thy existence have directed
Their blind revenge. To show that thou art worthy
Of different treatment, I'll not, meanly, now,
Recite thy conduct with elaborate praise;
For well I know that we alike despise
Whatever can be construed adulation.
But, from a single fact, mistaken men,
Unless you're dead to every generous virtue,
It must be evident that you're the foes
Of one, whose merits if you rightly knew,
You would not wish his life abridged, but lengthened,
With numerous years, beyond our mortal span.
When from your rage I undertook to rescue
This great, undaunted patriot, and to lodge him
Safely within the walls of our Alhambra,
He perseveringly refused my offer;
And with his friends he vowed that he would die.
Then, let the punishment by Ximenes
Himself be named, of lawless criminals,
Who were impatient to deprive the world
Of it's first virtues.

Ximenes.
Thy regard for me,
Most generous Zaigri, hath too strongly imaged
Their guilt, and my desert: the pungent feelings,
The vigorous action of resistless nature,
Will still predominate; no policy;
No power can quell them. These unhappy Moors
May plead great provocation to their outrage.
Our measures have been fatal to your kingdom:
We've burned the Koran of these men, by thousands:
I like them better for their violence,
Than if they tamely had endured their masters.
Loose them, and let them go;—strike off their fetters.
Heaven is my witness; though I'm deemed severe,
And supercilious; would the weal of Spain
Proceed, without the awe of rigid justice,
Without that awe, would wickedness reform,
I would not make a captive in these realms,
Except a grateful, honourable train,
Bound only by the golden chain of mercy.

Zaigri.
What say my prisoners? your conqueror,
You find, is far humaner than your prince.

1st Captive.
I, from the present workings of my soul,
Oh! Zaigri, for myself, can fully answer.
And if o'erflowing sentiment, in others,
Resembles mine, I, too, for them, can answer.
The susceptible mind, alive to wrongs,
Is equally alive to benefits.
I am the proselyte of Ximenes,
In admiration; let me add, in friendship!
Thou, the most eloquent of advocates,
That ever urged the faith of thy Messiah,
Almost persuadest me to be a Christian.

2d Captive,
to the First.
My heart, my friend, repeats the strains of thine!

3d Captive.
Mine vibrates in strict unison to both.
When the fine passions, by some great occasion
Excited, act with all their energy,
They mock the weaker power of florid speeches.

Ximenes.
Sure, this example of my equity
Hath most judiciously been shown. Good Zaigri,
When thou hast freed from chains these souls of fire,
Who never will, again, abuse their freedom,
Hither return; something I would impart,
That claims attention from your private ear.
Adieu, my honest Moors; if you should hold,
At any time, important intercourse
With sects, from which your tenets are abhorrent;
Remember, still, 'tis in the breast of man,
In any faith, to be magnanimous.

1st Captive.
Farewell, thou noble governour of Spain!
If thy ambition prompts thee to convert
The generous Moorish race, this is the way.
White-robed benevolence, whose smile is love,
That sky-descended cherub, ever melts
To purer faith than inquisitions burn.

[Exeunt, Zaigri, and the Captives.

SCENE II.

Ximenes,
alone.
Some office to discharge for a great empire,
How sweetly does the task glide through the conscience,
When policy, and lenity conspire!
This happy union of the wise, and good,
But seldom meets the anxious minister!
Yet this fair union, in another object,
Engages, now, my mind, with warmer interest.
That object should I, happily, obtain,
'Twould gild the evening of my various day;
And my last scene would be, the placid hours,
Given by a vernal, and descending sun.
But Zaigri (Heaven accept my wish!) returns.

SCENE III.

Re-enters, Zaigri.
Zaigri.
You hear the acclaim of gratitude, and joy.
'Tis hard to say, whether my countrymen
Expressed more rapturous triumph, for the lives
Continued to their friends; or for the soul
Angelick, that so easily could pardon.
Oh! Ximenes, the voice of honest praise,
Though by the mind severe deemed empty air,
Even in this world, rewards, almost, completely,
All our unwearied toils for publick good,
And all the great atchievements of the hero!

Ximenes.
Doubtless, that praise is balm, which kindly soothes
The pains that ne'er are separate from greatness.
Young, modest, blushing merit, feels it's power;
And merit long inured to eulogy.
'Tis pleasing, but not satisfactory.
'Tis in thy power, at this momentous crisis,
To give me true, substantial, lasting pleasure.

Zaigri.
Name but the means, and I will fly, to use them.

Ximenes.
Embrace the Christian faith;—be not alarmed;
The best effects will follow thy conversion;
Which to obtain, 'tis my ingenuous wish,
To win thy heart, and to convince thy reason.
While, then, on topicks of eternal moment,
I honestly advance, with patience hear me.

Zaigri.
With patience! rather, with attention ardent,
I'll hear thy friendly, thy paternal strain:
And that thou may'st pervade my inmost soul,
The present subject of thy holy work,
I will unfold to thee, my thoughts, my habits,
Without the least reserve, or subterfuge.
Thy novice is not stubborn; he admits
One of the sacraments in Rome's religion:
Why should I scruple to confess to thee!

Ximenes.
Already Zaigri is a Christian Moor!
With pleasure I'll attend to thy recital:
'Twill give a fair foundation, a fair scope,
For the great outlines of our beauteous fabrick.

Zaigri.
I have been taught to venerate our code:
But since, with years, my sentiment, and reason,
Grew to maturity, I own, that code
Excited in my breast, repugnant doubts.
Yet have I not despaired; nor have I feared:
For there's a simpler law that keeps me easy;
And while it's rules distinct my life obeys,
I look to Heaven, with trust, and lively hope.
Impelled by nature, and informed by reason,
I felt, and knew, what habit hath confirmed.
I scorn to be unjust; to fly, in battle;
To let my senses lord it o'er my mind:
I'm, to the proud, unbending; with the humble,
I still descend to their humility.
I keenly suffer for another's woe;
If I have power, it hath my best relief;
If I have none, I shed a tear that soothes it.
This is the sum of my religious practice;
And in a life of pains, and revolutions,
It hath done wonders for me; poured a balm
Into it's warriour's wounds; through a long march,
Oppressive heat, tormenting thirst, abated;
And, Ximenes, when, of my father's kingdom
I hardly was deprived, even then it cheared me;
And told me, that I had a kingdom left,
The power, and art, over myself to reign,
Of price far greater than all other empires!

Ximenes.

Zaigri.
Oh! Mahomet, thou hast deceived thy followers!
Thou broughtest no commission from the skies!

Ximenes.
We boast a different leader; all his progress
Diffused beneficence to human kind;
Even to his rancorous foes, large acts of mercy.
His laws are consentaneous with his life;
They bid us quell all selfish, baleful passions;
Destructive to their slave, and to the world.
They bid us, not as Mahomet allures
His weak disciples, basely overwhelm
Our spark of heavenly flame with sensual pleasure;
But, in right order, as endowed with reason,
To subjugate the body to the mind.
Hence, the true Christian, lord of appetite,
The vanquisher of low, but fierce resentments,
Which in a painful fever keep the soul;
Free from impediments, persues, with ardour,
All that adorns, and meliorates the man;
That polishes our life, or soothes it's ills.
Whene'er compassion, with her glistening eye,
Points to the squalid cottage of affliction,
Jews, Moors, and Infidels, are, all, his brethren.
Could he, in some remote, and barbarous land,
By powerful gold, or salutary arts,
Make pale distress give way to blooming joy,
He'd traverse wilds, or swelling seas, to court
The god-like office; his expanded heart,
In every climate, feels itself at home.—
If I'm prolix, excuse the fault of age.

Zaigri.
Oh! I could listen, through a summer's day,
To thy discourse; and while my soul it seizes,
The prejudices, all, relax, and die,
Which education formed, and habit strengthened.
I have no enemies, or I forgive them:
My love of man dilates; 'tis universal;
It spreads, in warm diffusion, o'er the globe.

Ximenes.
The Christian, in creation's dread arrangement,
Thus holds his proper sphere; maintains his course,
With equable, with independent motion;
Not from his orbit drawn, by wrong attractions;
But steddy, and concentral with his God.
If, next, we launch beyond the bounds of time,
Anticipating our eternal state,
How does your mean elysium pall, and fade,
Contrasted with our Christian paradise!
Need I insist, to Zaigri, that the joys
Of sense, are not man's chief, and final good;
The best reward bestowed by Heaven, on virtue?
Need I to lose my time? should I insult thee?
No:—in the deathless regions, we shall see,
And know the Deity; we shall converse.
With worthy men made perfect; intermix,
Improve our knowledge, and felicity.
When every generation hath elapsed,
This palsied hand, strung with perpetual manhood,
And smit with musick, shall express my rapture
While heaven resounds with choral harmony.
From age, to age, for ever, we shall range
Through infinite creation; we shall pass,
From system, on, to system; view their laws,
With ease; with ease, discover all their beauty;
And kindling, thus, to transport, we shall grow,
From the pure pleasures of the saint, and sage,
Enthusiasts, ruled by reason's god-like sway.

Zaigri.
Oh! by thy eloquence, I'm led, in fancy,
To mansions worthy of seraphick spirits!
I almost blush that I revered the Koran!

Ximenes.
Even now, with glowing tints I paint the hours,
Crowned with heaven's amaranth, when thou, and I,
Immortal friends, together, shall explore
(With pious exultation) wisdom, beauty,
Perfection, bliss;—then, haply, from some orb,
Where better suns exalt the purple year,
Where God's own likeness, moral intellect,
Works finer imagery, sublimer thought,
We shall look down on Mecca, and Medina
(Vast space pervading with an angel's ken)
And while we recollect their wars, their err ours,
Give them a smile benign of calm compassion;
For, there, all tears, for ever, from all eyes,
Are wiped away.—Believest thou this faith?
I know that thou believest.

Zaigri.
Ximenes
Strongly hath spoken to my best affections,
Best sentiments; and strongly to my reason.
Give me some time to think. I need not tell thee,
That when an honest man resolves to change
His faith, his mind prepares to take a passage
Of awful moment. I'll reflect maturely
On all the noble pictures thou hast shown me;
And every argument shall have it's weight.
Whatever lively hopes, portentous fears,
Which owe their birth to perishable objects,
May move my ductile fancy, I'll prefer
Important, and eternal truth to all things.

Ximenes.
I know thy conscience well; hence, I've not mentioned
The great advantage to the realms of Spain
That certainly would flow from thy conversion.
Thousands of Moors would follow thy example.
Nor have I urged the fortune of thy love;—
That this conversion, to thy tender wishes
Would surely win the beauteous Leonora.
Zaigri, solicitous for sacred honour,
Aside will never turn, to estimate
Collateral, specious, but inferiour objects.
I must repose awhile; pleased, that my life,
Even to it's last remainder, is exerted,
To urge the merits of a generous cause.
Zaigri, farewell! may salutary truth
Direct thee, and the great celestial Source,
From whom that glorious emanation flows!

Zaigri.
Thou know'st my honesty, my resolution.
Farewell, my friend, my father, and my guide!

[Exit Ximenes.

SCENE IV.

Zaigri,
alone.
Thou light of Spain!—of a degenerate world!
—The great objection to my acquiescence
In what the cardinal so warmly wishes,
Is, that it might be thought, I changed my faith,
From views unworthy of me; to propitiate
My love; or by a signal obligation,
For ever to secure the regent's favour.
For when I exercised impartial reason,
I own, oh! Mahomet, from thy religion,
That I've been, often, half a renegado!
Thy fragrant, gay, luxuriant paradise,
With all it's glowing charms, it's poignant joys,
To thought unprejudiced, but ill repays
Good, reasoning, suffering, and immortal minds.
To souls, whose current flows on great persuits,
Even while they're vested with terrestrial bodies,
Their view of thy anticipated pleasures;
The goblet crowned with roses; nay, the fair-one,
With youth perpetual, with divine attractions,
Meets the fastidious senses. Other objects
Delight these souls; and surely must await them,
In future life;—a fine, resplendent chain
Of pure ideas, beauteous images,
Dependent from high Heaven, to humble earth;
Raising the raptured soul, connecting man,
Mortal, but yet eternal, with his God!

SCENE V.

Alonzo, and Audley.
Alonzo.
Ingenuous Briton! did I not assure thee,
That, of all statesmen, he was best prepared,
Alike by nature, and his habitudes,
To render parts, and learning, all their honours?

Audley.
I was delighted with our interview!
He's not indebted to his splendid fame!
Oh! Ximenes! already I admire thee!
His converse proved him an accomplished sage;
Graced with politeness;—with respect, and ease.
His manner grand, yet free from arrogance,
Is like the style of the great Roman consul;
Tyros, by elegant simplicity
Deceived, imagine they can write such language;
Yet who can rival it's magnificence?

Alonzo.
Believe me, I enjoy your satisfaction;
I hope, your mind, extremely delicate,
And conscious of the dignity of man,
Will never feel regret, that you have changed
Your English native soil for Spanish ground.

Audley.
I should apologize to Ximenes;
To you, Sir, for my misapplied suspicion,
And roughness, when I first accosted you.
But I, unfortunately, have a mind
Susceptible, and I've conflicted, long,
With beings of our species, who had none;
With envy, malice, insolence in power.
Then, you'll excuse the spring of sentiment,
Acting with gentle elasticity,
If rightly treated; but, with violence,
Rebounding from hard pressure.

Alonzo.
Why excuse it,
When no excuse it needs? You've acted nobly,
As Heaven ordained your action! In our groves,
Breathing the sweets of Araby the blest,
Atonement will be made you for the storms
You hitherto have suffered. Ximenes
Enlightens us with knowledge, and presents
Himself, to all our eyes, a glorious model
Of true philanthropy.

Audley.
And one great man
Will more improve a state, than a long series
Of politicians, born with common minds.

Alonzo.
This truth our governour exemplifies:
You mentioned your hard fortune. Pray, what boots it,
That the renowned inhabitants of England,
With liberal arts are more refined than we,
Unless the warmer virtues of the heart,
Still, to the cultivation of the mind,
Run parallel, along?—I've read man's nature;
I doubt not but, sometimes, your haughty peers,
Perhaps, more frequently, your haughtier prelates,
The gross misrepresentatives of him,
Whose humble soul could hardly frown on vice,
Wage, with fine talents, a perpetual war;
Exact, with rigour, from their hapless owner,
The cold, and even march of prosperous dullness;
Watch, to oppress him with their awkward power;
Dare to revenge, on him, the Almighty's will,
For sickening their dark souls with it's own brightness;
And, thus, on earth, rebell against the skies.

Audley.
I see, you're conversant with human kind;
Hence, how their passions operate in England,
You know as well as if you had resided,
For many years, in our famed capital.

Alonzo.
By observation, we may clearly trace
Our selfish nature, through it's varied mazes;
Foretell it's conduct, even in situations,
Fertile of new, and complicated trial.
Minds of blunt intellect, by fortune's caprice,
Held up to publick view, must ever hate
Superiour spirit, and superiour knowledge.—
—But come with me;—we'll treat you properly;
I, with a kind respect;—'tis my ambition,
To imitate the cardinal of Spain!

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Enter Zaigri, and Leonora.
Zaigri.
Nay, Leonora; much I sympathize
With all thy tender, feminine alarms.
But thou, whose mental powers are far exalted
Above the common order of thy sex,
Should'st bid them arm thy soul with resolution,
To meet the rude encounters of misfortune.
I'm not insensible to all the dangers
Impending o'er our love; but I subdue
Their terrours with internal discipline.
For though I can be firm, I am not torpid;
I should not merit half of the eulogy
Which hath been given me by too generous fame;
Had I not fortitude to keep my mind
In proper tone for it's important duties;
But, above all, to cheer thy languid heart;
To animate the drooping soul of thee,
To whom the warriour owes his brigthest glory;
Who hast repayed his toils with virtuous love;
Whose delicate, and noble mind, commanding
Alliance with the first grandee of Spain,
Spurning those prejudices that enchain
The timid, vulgar soul; spurning those dangers
That might appall undaunted resolution,
Hath given it's preference to a captive Moor.
But though I can exclude the persecution
Of thoughts tormenting; if I could not feel,
And exquisitely, too, my stupid nature
Would not deserve the love of Leonora.

Leonora.
Then thou wilt sympathize more tenderly
With those anxieties, with those alarms,
Those agonies, that harrass my existence.
My waking hours are passed in fears, and sorrows;
My sleep, till now, congenial with my life,
Downy, and calm, the merited repose
Of innocence, and virtue, is assailed,
And wrought to tumult, and distress, with dreams,
Of horrid omen. O'er our narrow sea,
Methought, last night, that I was borne with Zaigri,
Eluding the persuit of Spanish foes.
At night we reached your Africk: in a mosque,
Magnificent as day with crescent lustres,
Our nuptial vows were plighted: as we left
The mosque, and near its door, the duke my father,
Met us, attended by Castilian friends:—
In his right hand, a dagger—which he plunged
Into my breast, with these emphatick words:—
“A Spaniard ought to have the Roman in him:—
“My daughter shall not long survive her shame;
“I sacrifice her life to her past honour.”
Oh! kind interpreter! read me this vision!
I see it yet; I see my father's poniard!
On whom can my distress recline, but Zaigri;
Thou authour, thou reliever of my woes!

Zaigri.
Thy agony my soul convulses!—hear me!
And, if thou canst, with some composure. Thoughts
Alarming in the day, when we should rest,
Raise spectres, unconnected with all fact.
To thy chimæra I'll oppose a truth;
And give it it's desert, thy fixed attention.
Sure, at this crisis, by indulgent Heaven,
'Twas sent us, for our mutual consolation,
And permanence in virtue. But three nights
Ago, I walked along the Oro's banks,
To give my mind its free, reflecting range.
The stream was chrystalline; the sky was azure;
The grove refrained from motion:—awful silence
Was jealous of his reign; for not a breath
Of aromatick air presumed to whisper.
The moon, decked in her most refulgent silver,
Shot her soft lustre through the verdant foliage,
And raised the soul to intercourse celestial.
I felt myself prepared for higher converse
Than our poor earth affords.—Sudden, before me
Stood old Abdallah's venerable form,
My sage, and valiant father.—To a statue
Amazement petrified me:—from his aspect
A smile paternal beamed:—these words he spoke,
With all the dignity that graced his life.
“My son, though trained to ills, should some hard trial
“Oppose thy virtue still; let the same spirit
“Receive it, which at Munda's well-fought battle,
“Superiour rose to sickness, and an army,
“When Zaigri interposed his conquering sword,
“To save his father.—Keep thy resolution,
“Ne'er to desert thy persecuted virtue;
“The sequel leave to Heaven; commit thy cause
“To perfect wisdom, and benevolence.”
His admonition ended, he retired,
With active pace, into the thickest wood:
I followed, and I sought him; but in vain.

Leonora.
The sacred scene speaks hope to Leonora.

Zaigri.
And so it spoke to me.—At first, a flood
Of filial tears I offered to thy shade,
Renowned Abdallah!—Salutary tears,
That left behind them, purest peace of mind;
A virtuous joy; a gentle ecstacy:—
Communication with a better world.

Leonora.
Yes, I revive, reform; the wayward Christian
Learns true religion from her infidel.
I will endeavour, as I ought, like thee,
Securely to confide in Providence.
I will adopt thy spirit; it will bear me
Through the worst evils that can yet befall
The dubious fortune of our constant love.

Zaigri.
A due exertion of my fair-one's mind,
Good, and exalted, always will prepare thee
For the most rigorous lot of human life.
And why should virtue tremble at it's frowns,
It's changes, and it's chances? Few our wants!
I trust, though spoiled of realms, of courtly favour,
The orient sun will cheer my morning hours;
And to my vespers Philomel will pour
Her sweet, according, and inspiring note.
Earth will refresh me with her fruits; her flowers
Will greet my senses; her pellucid streams
Will quench my thirst; her hospitable bowers
Will shade me; while yon vast, and azure concave
Spreads forth, for man, the canopy of heaven.
Grant me these objects, with my Leonora,
And this immortal spirit rectified;
From these true gifts of God, these genuine blessings,
To draw their moral colour, form, and pleasures,
And I shall, then, be happy; I shall deem
The pageantry, and bustle of the world,
The sport of children, and of fools, the contest.

Leonora.
Say, who can listen, and not catch thy flame?
Sincerely, then, thy Leonora tells thee,
That with these simple objects, yet, the sources
Of the most poignant pleasures, and with Zaigri,
This world, so fertile of calamity,
Would prove, to me, a paradise: my thanks
I'd pay to Heaven, for all my cares, and pains;
Those salutary monitors, which cure
The giddy mind, in elevated station;
Strengthen, refine it, to determined virtue;
Detach us from dependence on mankind;
Contract the space, and, hence, ensure the stay
Of our felicity. On this retirement
Should any ill intrude; thy consolation,
And thy society, with present pleasure
Would ballance pain, and soon extract the sting.
And if my love could mitigate thy cares,
The sense that I possessed that healing power
Would soothe my grief for thee, and in it's place
Would substitute a pleasing melancholy.
—But Zaigri, we forget, that, when we meet,
We tread on dangerous ground; foes all around,
Watch us, with eyes, and ears; let us retire
Separate; farewell! may the good angels guard thee!

Zaigri,
embracing her.
Saints, prophets, Allah's powerful arm protect thee!
Plan for me, soon, another interview!
Adieu! He who possesses thy affection,
[Exit Leonora.
And yet complains of his adversity,
Too superciliously exacts from fortune!
[Exit Zaigri.

SCENE VII.

Ximenes, and Alonzo.
Ximenes.
Well; have you seen the worthy Garcilasso?
Much have I longed to hear again, Alonzo,
How Spain demeans herself in our new world.

Alonzo.
My Lord, in justice, first, to Garcilasso,
I am the messenger of his regret,
That illness, an effect of his long voyage,
On age oppressive, hath prevented him
From offering you, in person, his respects,
With all the early zeal of good allegiance,
And a full history of the modern Indies:
I grieve, my Lord, to bring you it's idea.

Ximenes.
What! does the cross, emblem of heavenly mercy,
Still march through blood?

Alonzo.
Their conduct is not milder:
Nay, it would seem, our soldiers, and their leaders,
By habit, grow more savage: well you know
The sad catastrophe of Montezuma;
The bloody laurels of the ruffian Cortez;
Soon you will learn the more inhuman fate
Of Atabalipa; indignant, learn
The more destructive carnage of Pizarro,
In fraud, and in barbarity, unrivalled.
To copy monstrous deeds, from their superiours,
Why need I add the aptness of the rabble;
Who torture, for their sport, the harmless Indians!

Ximenes.
Surely thou must remember, my Alonzo,
The annals, and the fate of brave Columbus;
And he was equally humane, and brave.
From Spanish cruelty, beyond the Atlantick,
And from his ill-requited services
(For Ferdinand was selfish, and capricious)
Severely he repented his discovery;
Of courts deceitful; of ungrateful man,
Took his last leave; and at Valladolid,
He pined, and sunk, to an untimely grave!
Surely the good man grieved, that he had opened
An avenue to rapine, and to murder.
As much I suffer, to have patronized
His great adventure. Vain, unhappy mortals!
Blind to the future; yet, for ever, eager,
When fancy plumes a specious enterprize,
With all her orient, but delusive colours!
How ardent was Columbus, and myself,
To find another hemisphere! If thus
The best ambition is on earth rewarded,
The worst must feel unutterable pain!

Alonzo.
Ill suits it me, to hint to Ximenes
A particle of wisdom; but, my Lord,
The consequences of a noble conduct
Are not in the performer's power; yet, surely,
The motives are his own; and to himself,
They fail not to condemn, or praise him.

Ximenes.
True;
But when I think on the calamities
Which I have partly caused to the poor Indians,
Who, even their foes acknowledge, are innoxious,
Calamities, for which, the warrant vouched,
Is our religion; the corrosive thought
Is second poison to my tottering age;
It tears my nerves; and presses down my heart!
—Ye rapid heroes! ye unwearied statesmen!
Ardent, and strenuous, to extend your empire,
And multiply your subjects! what results
Ensue? You, only, to a painful stretch,
Extend your mind, and multiply your cares!
But I lose time, with unavailing sorrow.
We'll go immediately to Garcilasso,
And plan some remedy to these distresses.
When publick misery calls on Ximenes;
To my last breath, I will forget my own.