The Revenge: A Tragedy

by Edward Young

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.BATTLEMENTS, WITH A SEA PROSPECT.

Enter Zanga.

Zan. Whether first nature, or long want of peace,

Has wrought my mind to this, I cannot tell;

But horrors now are not displeasing to me:[thunder.

I like this rocking of the battlements.

Rage on, ye winds; burst, clouds; and, waters, roar!

You bear a just resemblance of my fortune,

And suit the gloomy habit of my soul.

Enter Isabella.

Who's there? My love!

Isa. Why have you left my bed?

Your absence more affrights me than the storm.

Zan. The dead alone in such a night can rest,

And I indulge my meditation here.

Woman, away. I choose to be alone.

Isa. I know you do, and therefore will not leave you;

Excuse me, Zanga, therefore dare not leave you.

Is this a night for walks of contemplation?

Something unusual hangs upon your heart,

And I will know it: by our loves, I will.

Ask I too much to share in your distress?

Zan. In tears? thou fool! then hear me, and be plung'd

In hell's abyss, if ever it escape thee.

To strike thee with astonishment at once—

I hate Alonzo. First recover that,

And then thou shalt hear further.

Isa. Hate Alonzo!

I own, I thought Alonzo most your friend,

And that he lost the master in that name.

Zan. Hear then. 'Tis twice three years since that great man

(Great let me call him, for he conquer'd me)

Made me the captive of his arm in fight.

He slew my father, and threw chains o'er me,

While I with pious rage pursu'd revenge.

I then was young; he plac'd me near his person,

And thought me not dishonour'd by his service.

One day (may that returning day be night,

The stain, the curse, of each succeeding year!)

For something, or for nothing, in his pride

He struck me. (While I tell it, do I live?)

He smote me on the cheek—I did not stab him,

For that were poor revenge—E'er since, his folly

Has strove to bury it beneath a heap

Of kindnesses, and thinks it is forgot.

Insolent thought! and like a second blow!

Affronts are innocent, where men are worthless;

And such alone can wisely drop revenge.

Isa. But with more temper, Zanga, tell your story;

To see your strong emotions startles me.

Zan. Yes, woman, with the temper that befits it.

Has the dark adder venom? So have I

When trod upon. Proud Spaniard, thou shalt feel me!

For from that day, that day of my dishonour,

From that day have I curs'd the rising sun,

Which never fail'd to tell me of my shame.

From that day have I bless'd the coming night,

Which promis'd to conceal it; but in vain;

The blow return'd for ever in my dream.

Yet on I toil'd, and groan'd for an occasion

Of ample vengeance; none has yet arriv'd.

Howe'er, at present, I conceive warm hopes

Of what may wound him sore in his ambition,

Life of his life, and dearer than his soul.

By nightly march he purpos'd to surprise

The Moorish camp; but I have taken care

They shall be ready to receive his favour.

Failing in this, a cast of utmost moment,

Would darken all the conquests he has won.

Isa. Just as I enter'd, an express arriv'd.

Zan. To whom?

Isa. His friend, don Carlos.

Zan. Be propitious,

Oh! Mahomet, on this important hour,

And give at length my famish'd soul revenge!

What is revenge, but courage to call in

Our honour's debts, and wisdom to convert

Others' self-love into our own protection?

But see, the morning dawn breaks in upon us;

I'll seek don Carlos, and inquire my fate.[exeunt.

SCENE II. THE PALACE.

Enter Don Manuel and Don Carlos.

Man. My lord don Carlos, what brings your express?

Car. Alonzo's glory, and the Moor's defeat.

The field is strew'd with twice ten thousand slain,

Though he suspects his measures were betray'd,

He'll soon arrive. Oh, how I long t' embrace

The first of heroes, and the best of friends!

I lov'd fair Leonora long before

The chance of battle gave me to the Moors,

From whom so late Alonzo set me free;

And while I groan'd in bondage, I deputed

This great Alonzo, whom her father honours,

To be my gentle advocate in love,

To stir her heart, and fan its fires for me.

Man. And what success?

Car. Alas, the cruel maid—

Indeed her father, who, though high in court,

And pow'rful with the king, has wealth at heart

To heal his devastations from the Moors,

Knowing I'm richly freighted from the east,

My fleet now sailing in the sight of Spain,

(Heav'n guard it safe through such a dreadful storm!)

Caresses me, and urges her to wed.

Man. Her aged father, see,

Leads her this way.

Car. She looks like radiant truth,

Brought forward by the hand of hoary time—

You to the port with speed; 'tis possible

Some vessel is arriv'd. Heav'n grant it bring

Tidings which Carlos may receive with joy![exit D. M.

Enter Don Alvarez and Leonora.

Alv. Don Carlos, I am lab'ring in your favour

With all a parent's soft authority,

And earnest counsel.

Car. Angels second you!

For all my bliss or mis'ry hangs on it.

Alv. Daughter, the happiness of life depends

On our discretion, and a prudent choice.

Look into those they call unfortunate,

And, closer view'd, you'll find they are unwise:

Some flaw in their own conduct lies beneath.

Don Carlos is of ancient, noble blood,

And then his wealth might mend a prince's fortune.

For him the sun is lab'ring in the mines,

A faithful slave, and turning earth to gold:

His keels are freighted with that sacred pow'r,

By which e'en kings and emperors are made.

Sir, you have my good wishes, and I hope

My daughter is not indispos'd to hear you.[exit.

Car. Oh, Leonora! why art thou in tears?

Because I am less wretched than I was?

Before your father gave me leave to woo you,

Hush'd was your bosom, and your eye serene.

Leon. Think you my father too indulgent to me,

That he claims no dominion o'er my tears?

A daughter sure may be right dutiful,

Whose tears alone are free from a restraint.

Car. Had I known this before it had been well:

I had not then solicited your father

To add to my distress;

Have I not languish'd prostrate at thy feet?

Have I not liv'd whole days upon thy sight?

Have I not seen thee where thou hast not been?

And, mad with the idea, clasp'd the wind,

And doated upon nothing?

Leon. Court me not,

Good Carlos, by recounting of my faults,

And telling how ungrateful I have been.

Alas, my lord, if talking would prevail,

I could suggest much better arguments

Than those regards you threw away on me;

Your valour, honour, wisdom, prais'd by all.

But bid physicians talk our veins to temper,

And with an argument new-set a pulse;

Then think, my lord, of reas'ning into love.

Car. Must I despair then? do not shake me thus:

My temper-beaten heart is cold to death.

Ah, turn, and let me warm me in thy beauties.

Heav'ns! what a proof I gave, but two nights past,

Of matchless love! To fling me at thy feet,

I slighted friendship, and I flew from fame;

Nor heard the summons of the next day's battle:

But darting headlong to thy arms, I left

The promis'd fight, I left Alonzo too,

To stand the war, and quell a world alone.[trumpets.

Leon. The victor comes. My lord, I must withdraw.[exit.

Enter Don Alonzo.

Car. Alonzo!

Alon. Carlos!—I am whole again;

Clasp'd in thy arms, it makes my heart entire.

Car. Whom dare I thus embrace? The conqueror

Of Afric.

Alon. Yes, much more—Don Carlos' friend.

The conquest of the world would cost me dear,

Should it beget one thought of distance in thee.

I rise in virtues to come nearer to thee.

I conquer with Don Carlos in mine eye,

And thus I claim my victory's reward.[embraces him.

Car. A victory indeed! your godlike arm

Has made one spot the grave of Africa;

Such numbers fell! and the survivors fled

As frighted passengers from off the strand,

When the tempestuous sea comes roaring on them.

Alon. 'Twas Carlos conquer'd, 'twas his cruel chains

Inflam'd me to a rage unknown before,

And threw my former actions far behind.

Car. I love fair Leonora. How I love her!

Yet still I find (I know not how it is)

Another heart, another soul, for thee.

Enter Zanga.

Zan. Manuel, my lord, returning from the port,

On business both of moment and of haste,

Humbly begs leave to speak in private with you.

Car. In private!—Ha!—Alonzo, I'll return;

No business can detain me long from thee.[exit.

Zan. My lord Alonzo, I obey'd your orders.

Alon. Will the fair Leonora pass this way?

Zan. She will, my lord, and soon.

Alon. Come near me, Zanga;

For I dare open all my heart to thee.

Never was such a day of triumph known!—

There's not a wounded captive in my train,

That slowly follow'd my proud chariot wheels,

With half a life, and beggary, and chains.

But is a god to me: I am most wretched.—

In his captivity, thou know'st, don Carlos,

My friend (and never was a friend more dear)

Deputed me his advocate in love,

To talk to Leonora's heart, and make

A tender party in her thoughts for him.

What did I do?—I lov'd myself. Indeed,

One thing there is might lessen my offence

(If such offence admits of being lessen'd);

I thought him dead; for (by what fate I know not)

His letters never reach'd me.

Zan. Thanks to Zanga,[aside.

Who thence contriv'd that evil which has happen'd.

Alon. Yes, curs'd of heav'n! I lov'd myself, and now,

In a late action, rescu'd from the Moors,

I have brought home my rival in my friend.

Zan. We hear, my lord, that in that action too,

Your interposing arm preserv'd his life.

Alon. It did—with more than the expense of mine:

For, oh, this day is mention'd for their nuptials.

But see, she comes; I'll take my leave, and die.[retires.

Zan. Hadst thou a thousand lives, thy death would please me.

Unhappy fate! my country overcome!

My six years' hope of vengeance quite expir'd!—

Would nature were—I will not fall alone:

But others' groans shall tell the world my death.[exit.

Enter Leonora.

Alon. When nature ends with anguish like to this,

Sinners shall take their last leave of the sun,

And bid his light adieu.

Leon. The mighty conqueror

Dismay'd! I thought you gave the foe your sorrows.

Alon. Oh, cruel insult! are those tears your sport,

Which nothing but a love for you could draw?

Afric I quell'd, in hope by that to purchase

Your leave to sigh unscorn'd; but I complain not;

'Twas but a world, and you are—Leonora.

Leon. That passion which you boast of is your guilt,

A treason to your friend. You think mean of me,

To plead your crimes as motives of my love.

Alon. You, madam, ought to thank those crimes you blame!

'Tis they permit you to be thus inhuman,

Without the censure both of earth and heav'n—

I fondly thought a last look might be kind.

Farewell for ever.—This severe behaviour

Has, to my comfort, made it sweet to die.

Leon. Farewell for ever! Sweet to die! Oh, heav'n!

Alonzo, stay; you must not thus escape me;

But hear your guilt at large.

Alon. Oh, Leonora!

What could I do?—In duty to my friend,

I saw you; and to see is to admire.

For Carlos did I plead, and most sincerely.

Witness the thousand agonies it cost me.

You know I did; I sought but your esteem;

If that is guilt, an angel had been guilty.

Leon. If from your guilt none suffer'd but yourself,

It might be so—Farewell.[going.

Alon. Who suffers with me?

Leon. Enjoy your ignorance, and let me go.

Alon. What mean these tears?

Leon. I weep by chance; nor have my tears a meaning.

But, oh, when first I saw Alonzo's tears,

I knew their meaning well!

[Alonzo falls on his knees, and takes her hand.

Alon. Heav'ns! what is this? that excellence, for which

Desire was planted in the heart of man;

Virtue's supreme reward on this side heav'n;

The cordial of my soul—and this destroys me—

Indeed, I flatter'd me that thou didst hate.

Leon. Alonzo, pardon me the injury

Of loving you. I struggled with my passion,

And struggled long: let that be some excuse.

Alon. Unkind! you know I think your love a blessing

Beyond all human blessings! 'tis the price

Of sighs and groans, and a whole year of dying.

But, oh, the curse of curses!—Oh, my friend!—

Leon. Alas!

Alon. What says my love? speak, Leonora.

Leon. Was it for you, my lord, to be so quick

In finding out objections to our love?

Think you so strong my love, or weak my virtue,

It was unsafe to leave that part to me?

Alon. Is not the day then fix'd for your espousals?

Leon. Indeed, my father once had thought that way;

But marking how the marriage pain'd my heart,

Long he stood doubtful; but at last resolv'd

Your counsel, which determines him in all,

Should finish the debate.

Alon. Oh, agony!

Must I not only lose her, but be made

Myself the instrument? not only die,

But plunge the dagger in my heart myself?

This is refining on calamity.

Leon. What, do you tremble lest you should be mine?

For what else can you tremble? not for that

My father places in your power to alter.

Alon. What's in my pow'r? oh, yes, to stab my friend!

Leon. To stab your friend were barbarous indeed!

Spare him—and murder me.

Alon. First perish all!

No, Leonora, I am thine for ever.[embraces her.

Leon. Hold, Alonzo,

And hear a maid whom doubly thou hast conquer'd.

I love thy virtue as I love thy person,

And I adore thee for the pains it gave me;

But as I felt the pains, I'll reap the fruit;

I'll shine out in my turn, and show the world

Thy great example was not lost upon me.

Nay, never shrink; take back the bright example

You lately lent; Oh, take it while you may,

While I can give it you, and be immortal![exit.

Alon. She's gone, and I shall see that face no more;

But pine in absence, and till death adore.

When with cold dew my fainting brow is hung,

And my eyes darken, from my falt'ring tongue

Her name will tremble in a feeble moan,

And love with fate divide my dying groan.[exit.

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