University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Tancred, Loredan. Knights. A warlike march. Tancred's arms borne before him.
LOREDAN.
The valour of thy arm, most noble knight,
Has robb'd us of a brave and glorious warrior,
Whose breast beat fervent with his country's love,
Nor was his courage to thy own inferior.
Reveal thy name, thy destiny.

TANCRED.
In a pensive and melancholy attitude.
Orbassan
Learn'd it in death, and to the shades below
My fatal secret and my hatred bore.
Seek not to penetrate my gloomy fate;
Accept my services, it matters not
Who, or from whence I am.

LOREDAN.
Remain unknown,
Since such thy wish. The daring Saracen
His impious ensigns in our plains displays;
Defend with us our laws and sacred faith.
Our best support is lost, do thou replace him,
And in thy valour give us back our hero.

TANCRED.
My sword is yours; in Syracusa's cause
I join sincere; nay, Solyman, perhaps,
More than the state, is my deep enemy;
More than you can, I hate him—but no more—
Behold me ready.

LOREDAN.
Thou shalt head our troops:
Expect from Syracuse all that the warmth
Of boundless gratitude can offer merit.

TANCRED.
Such is my fate—that gratitude were vain,
Bestow'd on one, whose woes have made him thankless;
This heart rejects it—these ill-fated walls
Hold nothing henceforth that can tempt my wishes.
If I can serve you—if I die unhappy,
I court nor pity, nor reward, nor glory,
Vengeance alone—yes, Solyman shall feel me!

LOREDAN.
Your hopes are ours, time urges. Let us go
To the important business of this day;
Let all our thoughts be turn'd: and you, my lord,
Shall instant be advis'd, when to that post,
Where the foe hopes, but vainly, soon to force us,
'Tis proper to repair. Now on the point,
In the vile blood of infidels to bathe,
Our thirsty swords, all other cares must yield.
[Exit Loredan.

TANCRED.
My only wish is death, and great revenge.

SCENE II.

Tancred, Aldamon.
TANCRED.
Ah! little do they know the secret pangs,
That harrow up my breast. I could have borne
Pain, disappointment, poverty, or shame;
All that embitters life, all that the gods
Pour in their wrath severe on wretched man!
But where I lov'd, where I had treasur'd up
My soul's best hopes; there to be lost, betray'd,
Is death like anguish! misery supreme!

ALDAMON.
My dearest lord! your sorrows deeply move me,
Nor know I what to counsel. Yet methinks,
You ought to see Almida. 'Tis a custom,
By immemorial use made almost sacred,
To meet the fair, who owes you life and honour.

TANCRED.
No Aldamon, I must not, cannot see her.

ALDAMON.
Not see her! you who brav'd death to save her,
Can you fly her?

TANCRED.
I must, and she deserves it.

ALDAMON.
Yet you fought for her.

TANCRED.
Perjur'd as she is,
Could I support, ye gods, to see her perish?
Even had I lov'd her less, could I forsake her?
'Twas mine to save, but never to forgive her.
“Ah let her live! and let sad Tancred die!
“Yes Aldamon, yes, she shall learn to weep
“Too late my wretched fate; if yet one spark
“Of truth or pity lives within her bosom.
O heavens! to what excess I doated on her!
She bore the semblance of such grace and virtue,
I could have thought her word, her single word,
More sacred far than altars, oaths, or ought
That man has yet invented for our reverence.

ALDAMON.
Is all then barbarous, or perfidious here?
Your name was mark'd in black proscription's page;
Inhuman laws, and faithless love pursue you;
Ah! let us hence, and seek some happier clime.

TANCRED.
Gods! by what charm even now she rises on me!
Lovely and virtuous as I once believ'd her;
Adorn'd with dignity and modest grace,
Delight and rapture; all that fancy paints,
Or nature can bestow. O faithless maid!
Perfidious, cruel, still alas ador'd!
Why does thy image cling around my heart;
Unman me, sink me, thus to fond complaints,
And all the weakness of a woman's love?

ALDAMON.
Ah! would to heaven, there was some healing art,
To calm your tortur'd mind. Awhile you talk'd
Of envy's lies, and slander's cruel tongue;
Perhaps she's innocent.

TANCRED.
Would there were doubt,
One slender doubt, for eager hope to seize,
But all is prov'd; her perfidy is certain;
She was ador'd in secret by the Moor,
He ask'd her hand a pledge of offer'd peace.
Could he have dar'd thus, had he not been lov'd?
They were of concert; and in vain I doubted,
In vain I trusted to my heart. Her father
Confess'd to me her crime; nay she avows it,
These eyes have seen, have read that cursed letter.
‘May you acknowledg'd reign in Syracusa,
As in this heart you reign.’ Is there a name
For treachery like this?

ALDAMON.
Alas! forget her;
Learn to despise a false ungrateful woman.

TANCRED.
And to complete my shame, she fondly dreamt
This Solyman was something more than human.
Light and capricious sex! by outward shew,
And pomp seduc'd; unable to distinguish
The love that springs from harmony of souls,
And mutual choice, above the stupid forms
Of vanity and pride; joy far beyond
The gross desire: the paradise of minds!
Unfelt, and unconceiv'd by vulgar breasts.
But I'll despise the traitress, scorn her arts,
And throw this unbecoming weakness from me.

SCENE III.

Tancred, Aldamon, Catanio, and other Knights.
CATANIO.
The army moves, my lord, and time is precious.

TANCRED.
True I have linger'd—how her faithless image
Still winds around my soul!

SCENE IV.

Tancred, Almida, Sophia. Knights.
Almida running to Tancred with precipitation.
ALMIDA.
Thou god-like youth!
Sole master of my fate; oh! at thy feet
No let me kneel, it is not sure beneath me.
Tancred eyes her, but turns aside.
Why dost thou shun me? who can blame my transports?
The warm effusion of a grateful heart!
Wing'd by impatience, I outflew my father.
I dare not call thee by that name ador'd,
Or speak the secret transports of my soul:
Why is thy eye turn'd from me? gracious heaven!
Cannot I see thee in this fatal spot,
But watch'd, surrounded by that hated crew.
[looking round.
Dumb consternation hangs upon thy brow!
I dare not speak more freely; this constraint—
Why that averted look? Thou hear'st me not.

TANCRED.
[with a voice faltering and interrupted by sighs.
Return—comfort your father, whom I honour—
I'm summon'd hence by more important cares!
To you, to him, I have fulfill'd my duty,
And am rewarded—too much gratitude
May be a burden—I relieve you from it—
Your heart is free—bestow it as you please—
Live happy—whilst I seek death—farewell—
Exit Tancred.

SCENE V.

Almida, Sophia.
ALMIDA.
Am I awake?
From the drear tomb am I indeed emerg'd?
Immortal powers! and is it then for this
Ye give me back my life? has fate spun out
For this curst hour, the remnant of my days?

SOPHIA.
Perhaps he fear'd without disguise—

ALMIDA.
Was that
My Tancred's voice? didst thou remark, Sophia,
His haughty coldness, his insulting pride,
The calm disdain with which he dar'd oppress me?
Hatred and scorn beam'd from his angry eye.
Did he but save me from my cruel tyrants,
To plunge himself the dagger in my heart?

SOPHIA.
Rage, or confusion glow'd upon his cheek,
His falt'ring voice affected seeming coldness:
Yet his turn'd eye conceal'd a rising tear.

ALMIDA.
Amazing change! perplexity and grief
Fill my astonish'd soul! can he be jealous?
Of whom? or why?—in vain I pause or think;
Reflexion lends no light to guide my thoughts.
Tis mystery all! A labyrinth of woe!
Yet 'tis to him, I owe these lengthen'd days,
This poor remainder of a life I hate,
Which but for him, had never been in danger.

SOPHIA.
Alas! he knows not this. The public voice
Misleads the firmest heart. That slave, his death,
Your letter found upon him unaddress'd,
Has left suspicion free to form conjectures.
Then the report that Solyman had ask'd,
Presuming from success, your hand in marriage.
Your gen'rous silence, that conceal'd your lover,
From the pursuit of unrelenting foes,
May in appearance wrong you; and perhaps—

ALMIDA.
How! wouldst thou hint that Tancred thinks me false?

SOPHIA.
Forgive a lover, if deceiv'd, he—

ALMIDA.
No:
Had a whole world combin'd to paint me guilty,
His single heart against a world misled
Should have stood forth, a witness to my honour.
Was it from pity then he sav'd my life?
How I despise the thought! why have I liv'd
Thus to be made a wretch, the sport of fortune?
Ungrateful Tancred! Can'st thou then suspect me?
But know my heart, superior to its wrongs,
From this sad moment casts thee off for ever!
Can I forget the life I owe him? No:
Yet if he thinks me of his love unworthy,
'Tis he that sinks indeed! unworthy mine!

SOPHIA.
Suppose he knew not—

ALMIDA.
Vain excuse! he knew not!
Me he should have known; he should have learnt
Better to prize the heart he dares mistrust.
My soul's as haughty as his arm is brave,
As great, as true, as generous as his own;
More tender far! and not like his suspicious!
I'll root him hence, and with him all mankind;
A wretched herd, or wicked all or false;
Cruel or weak; deceiving or deceiv'd.
Wrapt up and buried in my deep affliction,
I'll fly from Tancred, and a faithless world.

SCENE VI.

Almida, Arnolph. Attendants.
ARNOLPH.
[supported by his Squires.
Lead on, my friends: support my sinking years;
The battle sounds. Ah let me let me clasp
Within these aged arms that gen'rous youth:
Is he already fled? tell me, Almida,
To whom I owe thy life?

ALMIDA.
'Tis to a hero,
Whose name I dar'd not breathe; you had proscrib'd him.
To whom was meant that intercepted letter,
Source of mistakes, and misery exhaustless!
The first of mortals, tho' to me unjust,
To Tancred—

ARNOLPH.
Heavens! did I hear thee right?

ALMIDA.
Alas! the sad disorder of my soul
Has urg'd this secret from me. Ah! I tremble
Lest my imprudence should once more be fatal.

ARNOLPH.
He Tancred!

ALMIDA.
Lives there on earth another,
Noble and brave as he is?

ARNOLPH.
On whose head,
Our barbarous senate pour'd its deadly vengeance!
He rescues thee from death; he risks his life,
For this ungrateful state, whilst we tear from him,
His honour, fortunes, all a hero values.
How short, alas! is human comprehension!
Presumptuous judges! in our erring balance,
Blindly we weigh the life, the fate of mortals,
By the weak guidance of fallacious prudence
Bewilder'd into cruelty!

ALMIDA.
My father!
Ah! let me open all my griefs before you!
Tancred has saved my life; yet I am wretch'd,
Doubly undone! for what, great gods! is life
Debas'd by scorn? 'tis but a lengthen'd curse!
You must repair my wrongs; restore my fame;
Does Tancred think I'll wear a paltry life,
Made worthless by his cold suspicious treatment?
You must dispel his doubts.

ARNOLPH.
I will with joy;
But calm awhile thy troubled breast and tell me.

ALMIDA.
Ah! let us fly, each moment is an age.

ARNOLPH.
But stop—

ALMIDA.
How stop! by heavens I will not;
I'll to the field: am I not grown familiar
With death and horror: think you that in battle
They wear a look terrific to the soul!
Like that vile scaffold you could lead me to?
I will not be refus'd: indeed I will not,
Grief will have way, you owe me surely this:
Must I be twice abandon'd by a father?

ARNOLPH.
Has reason lost all empire o'er thy mind?
Speak thy design; it freezes me with terror;
Some strange emotion works thro' all thy frame.
Ah! yield not to the transports of thy breast!
'Tis not with us, as in some distant climes,
Where women less confin'd by rigid custom,
March to the field, and tread the hero's path.
Our manners and our laws forbid it.

ALMIDA.
Gods!
What laws? what manners? cruel and unjust!
The iron dictates of unfeeling minds!
Full of its woes, my rising soul disdains them.
If I must listen, talk to me of grief,
Of Tancred lost; of my unheard of misery!
Hence with your laws, inhuman as they are.
They could have torne me from a father's arms,
Dragg'd me to death; expos'd me bound in chains,
To the bold gaze of each insulting eye!
Heav'n give me patience! shall I hear them pleaded,
To keep me from the field of honest danger;
Led by a father to defend my honour?
Must we sad victims to your savage notions,
Your arbitrary rules, phantastic, cruel!
Appear in public only for dishonour,
To grace a scaffold, or to glut your fury!
I'll bear no more, I'm weary of oppression!
You tremble, Sir! Ah know you should have trembled,
When poorly stooping to your haughty foes,
You could with that curst Orbassan unite,
Against the innocent—against the hero,
Who sav'd your wretched daughter from destruction!

ARNOLPH.
Heap not more miseries on thy sinking father,
Nor stretch too far thy right to say I'm guilty—
I am—I feel it—and I am self-condemn'd!—
I'll seek out Tancred, conduct him to thee—
Do thou detain her here, I'll instantly return;
Observe her steps, Sophia—
Respect my sorrows—and if yet thy heart
Is not grown senseless to a parent's voice,
O! let me perish by the Moorish darts,
And not by thy upbraidings.
[Exit Arnolph.

SCENE VII.

Almida, Sophia.
ALMIDA.
I'll not be stopt—Tancred detests me, loaths me.
But haughty hero! taught by thy example,
I'll to the field and combat by thy side;
Brave all the darts that fly around thy head.
This bosom bar'd shall meet the vengeful steel
Levell'd at thine. Thus, Tancred, will I quit
The mighty debt I owe. Yes I'll out-do thee,
Surpass thee far in exquisite revenge!
Gasp out my life, even in thy cruel arms!
Abhor and scorn thee, with my latest breath,
And dying plunge in thy unfeeling heart,
The dreadful sting the dagger of remorse!
The wild, the bitter agony of love,
Eternal grief, and unavailing anguish,
And all the horrors of my wretched fate!

Exeunt Almida, and Sophia.