I try'd, I quarrell'd with my heart,
And push'd it on, and bid it give her death;
But, oh, her eyes struck first and murder'd me.
_Zan._ I know not what to answer to my lord.
Men are but men; we did not make ourselves.
Farewell then, my best lord, since you must die.
Oh, that I were to share your monument,
And in eternal darkness close these eyes
Against those scenes which I am doom'd to suffer!
_Alon._ What dost thou mean?
_Zan._ And is it then unknown?
Oh, grief of heart, to think that you should ask it!
Sure you distrust that ardent love I bear you,
Else could you doubt when you are laid in dust--
But it will cut my poor heart through and through,
To see those revel on your sacred tomb,
Who brought you thither by their lawless loves.
For there they'll revel, and exult to find
Him sleep so fast, who else might mar their joys.
_Alon._ Distraction! But don Carlos well thou know'st
Is sheath'd in steel, and bent on other thoughts.
_Zan._ I'll work him to the murder of his friend. [_aside._
Yes, till the fever of his blood returns,
While her last kiss still glows upon his cheek.
But when he finds Alonzo is no more,
How will he rush, like lightning, to her arms!
There sigh, there languish, there pour out his soul;
But not in grief--sad obsequies to thee!--
But thou wilt be at peace, nor see, nor hear,
The burning kiss, the sigh of ecstasy,
Their throbbing hearts that jostle one another:
Thank heaven, these torments will be all my own.
_Alon._ I'll ease thee of that pain. Let Carlos die;
O'ertake him on the road, and see it done.
'Tis my command. [_gives his signet._
_Zan._ I dare not disobey.
_Alon._ My Zanga, now I have thy leave to die.
_Zan._ Ah, sir! think, think again. Are all men buried
In Carlos' grave? you know not womankind:
When once the throbbing of the heart has broke
The modest zone, with which it first was ty'd,
Each man she meets will be a Carlos to her.
_Alon._ That thought has more of hell than had the former.
Another, and another, and another!
And each shall cast a smile upon my tomb.
I am convinc'd; I must not, will not, die.
_Zan._ You cannot die; nor can you murder her.
What then remains? In nature no third way,
But to forget, and so to love again.
_Alon._ Oh!
_Zan._ If you forgive, the world will call you good;
If you forget, the world will call you wise;
If you receive her to your grace again,
The world will call you--very, very kind.
_Alon._
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