University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Duke of Medina Sidonia—Zaigri.
Zaigri.
You say, you're satisfied, my lord;—I'm happy:
Then wound me not with your apologies.
Even active malice I forgive, with ease,
When it's hostilities no more can hurt me.
But should I have a heart inexorable
To honest prejudices; nor, with candour,
Meet their conciliating, benignant smile,
How grossly would myself be prejudiced!
Environed, from our birth, with favourite objects,
Of ease, love, pleasure, friendship, veneration,
Which model, and attach, with strong controul,
The willing senses, the resisting mind;
Should we boast freedom from all prepossession,
The mortal man would arrogate the angel.
I have my prejudices; 'tis my study,
To soften, to subdue them.

Duke.
Royal Zaigri!
In soul a king! These noble sentiments
Reproach my opposition to thy wishes.

Zaigri.
'Tis an unmeant reproach. Besides, those wishes
No longer thou opposest; hence, my Lord,
Each thought, here entertained, is, now, thy friend.
'Tis thy esteem that gives me Leonora;
And can I feel resentment against thee!
Strange, most unnatural animosity!
The fortunate in love, were never captious.
'Tis a conciliating, refining passion;—
Absorbs all other cares; represses, foils,
Annihilates each mean propensity!
'Tis our internal sun; without it's power,
Souls of fine temper feel existence dreary;
From it's full influence, life yields true fruition;
And all is animation; all is joy!
—My Lord, I've told you my determination;
'Tis, to renounce the worship of my fathers,
On the next Sabbath, and to be baptised
Into the Christian faith. You'll, then, excuse
Impatience in a lover; ardently
I wish, that Leonora heard these tidings;
You, now, completely may contrast her pain.

Duke.
I will not lose a moment to oblige you.
[He rings.
Though while this obligation is conferred,
I but perform the duty of a father.
[Enters a Servant.
You'll tell my daughter, that I wish to see her.

[Exit Servant.
[Leonora enters, pays her compliments, with confusion, to both.
Zaigri,
advancing, and bowing to her.
At length, my virtuous love of Leonora
Obtains the sacred sanction of her father.

Leonora.
Where am I? do I wake? or do I dream?
And yet, my dreams were ever more portentous!
Sure, Zaigri cannot mock me; sure, my father
Can never taunt the miseries of his daughter!

Duke.
Thy lover, Leonora, is a Christian!

Leonora.
The news, you'll think, my Lord, should give me rapture!
As yet, it but produces agitation,
That wildly flutters 'twixt the two extremes
Of joyful, and of mortifying thoughts!
I know, he has not changed his faith, from fear;
I hope, he has not changed his faith, from love.

Zaigri.
The Moors, fair Leonora, are as truthful
As your Castilians;—know that I'm a Christian,
A proselyte, from rational conviction;
From the result of calm, and close inquiry;
From the free choice of an impartial mind.
He, who, for truth, shrunk not from racks, or flames,
Would, but, alone, for that celestial object,
With equal firmness, quit the joys of love.
My counsellours, in this important change,
Were, an Alvarez, and a Ximenes;
Judge of their knowledge, their integrity.

Leonora.
Then, is this hour most prodigal of bliss
Of all that ever crowned my day with pleasure.
Good Heaven! I thank thee for my sufferings past!
They give a double zest to present joy!
As April's tears augment the flush of spring!
Thou surely canst not think I entertain
[To Zaigri.
A moment's doubt of thy sincerity.
Each eye, my Lord, with common visual ray,
[To the Duke.
May, to the bottom see, of Zaigri's soul:
It is a pure, a clear, ambrosial fountain,
Reflecting every object it contains,
In it's true magnitude, and form, and colour.
Sordid hypocrisy, and noble Zaigri,
Are, ever, farther than the poles, asunder:
Such men as he, are images of God!

Duke.
Daughter, I love thee for thy honest ardour;
But let it know it's bounds, nor blaze to rapture.

Leonora.
Oh! pardon me, my venerated father!
My mind must, now, take it's unbounded range!
This rapture let me offer, now, to Zaigri,
An incense far inferiour to his merit.
Long hath he toiled, and often courted danger,
To earn the hero's laurel, in the field;
Then, for this bridegroom's brow, 'tis mine, to form
A wreath of chaste, and ever-blooming myrtle.
Why, at this crisis, need I fear to open
The intimate recesses of my soul?
No!—let the venal, and ambitious fair,
Dupes to life's idle pageants, wealth, and grandeur,
Who, with bold perjuries, at Heaven's dread altar,
Astonish trembling saints, and listening angels,
Observers vigilant of human actions;—
Let them, with specious manners, specious words,
Varnish their guilt, and act a laboured part;
The artless mind has nothing to conceal.

Duke.
Proceed, without reserve; I'll not be wounded
By thy integrity; thy father taught thee,
Even from thy infancy, to be sincere.

Leonora.
I now evince my reverence to his precepts;
And such a proof, I trust, will ne'er offend.
Although with pious, and observant heart,
The hallowed faith I worship, of my fathers,
Yet should I live, in some retreat, with Zaigri,
Remote from the communion of the church,
And of the world; and should we, there, converse,
As we were used, in sacred dialogue,
On virtue, on eternity, on God;
I should, nor with temerity, conclude,
We practised, then, the Catholick religion;
I should forget it's engines, in it's essence:
And with the rising, and descending sun,
With holy warmth, if we should kneel, together,
Beneath the foliage of some lofty grove,
Which undulated to the breath of Zephyr,
And bowed Heaven's acquiescence to our prayer;
I should be satisfied, that our devotions
Were offered in a consecrated temple;
Nor painfully be anxious to frequent
The churches of Madrid, or Saragossa.
Our mansion in the humble vale of life;
Zaigri's fair fame; his animating converse;
My emulation of his great example,
And Heaven's paternal eye, would prove, to me,
All wealth, all power, all grandeur, all religion!

Zaigri.
Oh! Leonora! if, to eloquence,
Thy lover had been trained, instead of arms,
The noble tribute of thy generous praise
The orator could never have repayed!
No words are adequate; it must be thanked
By my endeavours to deserve it more!

Duke.
Love, and romance, I find, are still connected.
We must allow their union. Thy excess
[To Leonora.
Is beauteous; for it flows from ardent virtue!

Zaigri.
We fixed the time, my Lord, when my conversion
Should, in your church, be fully ratified.
Let me request, on that auspicious day,
The hand of Leonora; let my wish
Meet your acceptance.

Duke.
Never was proposal
More grateful to my ear.

Leonora.
And if it drew my frown,
After a life thus far to truth devoted,
A moment would have taught me to dissemble.

Zaigri,
embracing her.
Thanks inexpressible my soul returns thee,
For this last proof of thy sincerity!
But let us, without loss of time, my friends,
With this eventful, and propitious scene,
A little strength impart, and steddier flame,
To our good regent's quivering lamp of life.
His feeble age is, like his vigorous youth,
Employed; he still promotes the good of man.
Then, you may judge, with what a lively sense,
He feels the happiness of those he loves.
My lord, I'll follow you.—My Leonora!
Our fortune shows that we should ne'er despond.
Let fell despair, at length, assail the breast
Long obstinate in crimes; 'twas never meant
By Heaven, that the wild fiend should seize on virtue!

[Exeunt.