such her ardent wish it should be true,
That she, at length, was fully satisfied.
But what design you, sir, and how?

_Alon._ I'll tell thee.
Thus I've ordain'd it. In the jess'mine bow'r,
The place which she dishonour'd with her guilt,
There will I meet her; the appointment's made;
And calmly spread (for I can do it now)
The blackness of her crime before her sight;
And then, with all the cool solemnity
Of public justice, give her to the grave. [_exit._

_Zan._ Why, get thee gone! horror and night go with thee.
Sisters of Acheron, go hand in hand,
Go dance around the bow'r, and close them;
And tell them, that I sent you to salute them
Profane the ground; and for th' ambrosial rose,
And breath of jess'mine, let hemlock blacken,
And deadly nightshade poison, all the air.
For the sweet nightingale, may ravens croak,
Toads pant, and adders rustle through the leaves;
May serpents winding up the trees let fall
Their hissing necks upon them from above,
And mingle kisses--such as I would give them. [_exit._

SCENE II. THE BOWER.

_Enter Alonzo.--Leonora sleeping._

_Alon._ Ye amaranths! ye roses, like the morn!
Sweet myrtles, and ye golden orange groves!
Why do you smile? Why do you look so fair?
Are ye not blighted as I enter in?
Did ever midnight ghosts assemble here?
Have these sweet echoes ever learn'd to groan?
Joy-giving, love-inspiring, holy bow'r!
Know, in thy fragrant bosom thou receiv'st
A--murderer! Oh, I shall stain thy lilies,
And horror will usurp the seat of bliss. [_advances._
Ha! she sleeps--
The day's uncommon heat has overcome her.
Then take, my longing eyes, your last, full gaze.
Oh, what a sight is here! how dreadful fair!
Who would not think that being innocent?
Where shall I strike? who strikes her, strikes himself.
My own life-blood will issue at her wound.
But see, she smiles! I never shall smile more;
It strongly tempts me to a parting kiss. [_going, he starts back._
Ha! smile again. She dreams of him she loves.
Curse on her charms! I'll stab her through them all.

[_as he is going to strike, she wakes._

_Leon._ My lord, your stay was long; and yonder lull
Of falling waters tempted me to rest,
Dispirited with noon's excessive heat.

_Alon._ Ye pow'rs! with what an eye she mends the day!
While they were clos'd, I should have giv'n the blow. [_aside._

_Leon._ What says my lord?

_Alon._ Why, this Alonzo says:
If love were endless, men were gods; 'ti