 | Ximenes |  |
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,
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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,
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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,
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
| Ximenes | |