Complete Works of William Congreve
Page 66
I’ll try.
OSM. I have not merited this Grace;
Nor, should my secret Purpose take Effect,
Can I repay, as you require, such Benefits.
ZARA. Thou canst not owe me more, nor have I more
To give, than I’ve already lost. But as
The present Form of our Engagements rests,
Thou hast the Wrong, ‘till I redeem thee hence;
That done, I leave thy Justice to return
My Love. Adieu. [Exit ZARA.]
OSM. This Woman has a Soul
Of God-like Mould, intrepid and commanding,
And challenges, in spight of me, my best
Esteem; to this she’s fair, few more can boast
Of Personal Charms, or with less Vanity
Might hope to captivate the Hearts of Kings.
But she has Passions which out-strip the Wind,
And tear her Virtues up, as Tempests root
The Sea. I fear when she shall know the Truth,
Some swift and dire event, of her blind Rage
Will make all fatal. But behold, she comes
For whom I fear, to shield me from my Fears. -
[Enter ALMERIA.]
The Cause and Comfort of my boding Heart,
My Life, my Health, my Liberty, my All,
How shall I welcome thee to this sad Place?
How speak to thee the Words of Joy and Transport?
How run into thy Arms, with-held by Fetters;
Or take thee into mine, thus manacled
And pinion’d like a Thief or Murderer?
Shall I not hurt or bruise thy tender Body,
And stain thy Bosom with the Rust of these
Rude Irons? Must I meet thee thus, Almeria?
ALM. Thus, thus; we parted, thus to meet again.
Thou told’st me thou would’st think how we might meet
To part no more- Now we will part no more,
For these thy Chains, or Death, shall join us ever.
OSM. Hard Means to ratifie that Word!- O Cruelty!
That ever I should think beholding thee
A Torture!- Yet, such is the bleeding Anguish
Of my Heart, to see thy Sufferings- O Heav’n!
That I cou’d almost turn my Eyes away,
Or wish thee from my Sight.
ALM. O say not so;
Tho’ ’tis because thou lov’st me. Do not say,
On any Terms, that thou dost wish me from thee.
No, no, ’tis better thus, that we together
Feed on each other’s Heart, devour our Woes
With mutual Appetite; and mingling in
One Cup, the common Stream of both our Eyes,
Drink bitter Draughts, with never-slacking Thirst.
Thus better, than for any Cause to part.
What dost thou think? Look not so tenderly
Upon me- speak, and take me in thy Arms-
Thou canst not! thy poor Arms are bound and strive
In vain with the remorseless Chains, which gnaw
And eat into thy Flesh, festring thy Limbs
With rancling Rust.
OSM. Oh! O-
ALM. Give me that Sigh.
Why do’st thou heave, and stifle in thy Griefs?
Thy Heart will burst, thy Eyes look red and start;
Give thy Soul way, and tell me thy dark Thought.
OSM. For this World’s Rule, I wou’d not wound thy Breast
With such a Dagger, as then stuck my Heart.
ALM. Why? why? to know it, cannot wound me more,
Than knowing thou hast felt it. Tell it me.
-Thou giv’st me Pain, with too much Tenderness!
OSM. And thy excessive Love distracts my Sense!
O could’st thou be less killing, soft or kind,
Grief wou’d not double thus his Darts against me.
ALM. Thou dost me Wrong, and Grief too robs my Heart,
If there, he shoot not ev’ry other Shaft;
Thy second self shou’d feel each other Wound,
And Woe shou’d be in equal Portions dealt.
I am thy Wife-
OSM. O thou hast search’d too deep:
There, there I bleed; there pull the cruel Cords,
That strain my cracking Nerves, Engines and Wheels;
That Piece-meal grind, are Beds of Down and Balm
To that Soul-racking Thought.
ALM. Then I am curs’d
Indeed, if that be so; if I’m thy Torment
Kill me, kill me then, dash me with thy Chains,
Tread on me, spurn me: Am I the bosom Snake,
That sucks thy warm Life-Blood, and gnaws thy Heart?
O that thy Words had force to break those Bonds,
As they have strength to tear this Heart in sunder;
So should’st thou be at large from all Oppression.
Am I, am I of all thy Woes the worst?
OSM. My All of Bliss, my everlasting Life,
Soul of my Soul, and End of all my Wishes,
Why dost thou thus unman me with thy Words,
And melt me down to mingle with thy Weepings?
What dost thou ask? why dost thou talk thus piercingly?
Thy Sorrows have disturb’d thy Peace of Mind,
And thou dost speak of Miseries impossible.
ALM. Didst thou not say, that Racks and Wheels were Balm,
And Beds of Ease, to thinking me thy Wife?
OSM. No, no; nor should the subtlest Pains that Hell,
Or hell-born Malice can invent, extort
A Wish or Thought from me, to have thee other.
But thou wilt know what harrows up my Heart:
Thou art my Wife- nay, thou art yet my Bride!
The Sacred Union of Connubial Love
Yet unaccomplish’d; his mysterious Rites
Delay’d; nor has our Hymenial Torch
Yet lighted up, his last most grateful Sacrifice;
But dash’d with Rain from Eyes, and swail’d with Sighs,
Burns dim, and glimmers with expiring Light.
Is this dark Cell, a Temple for that God?
Or this vile Earth, an Altar for such Off’rings?
This Den for Slaves, this Dungeon damp’d with Woes;
Is this our Marriage-Bed! are these our Joys!
Is this to call thee mine? O hold my Heart:
To call thee mine? yes; thus, ev’n thus, to call
Thee mine, were Comfort, Joy, extremest Exstacy.
But O thou art not mine, not ev’n in misery;
And ’tis deny’d to me, to be so bless’d,
As to be wretched with thee.
ALM. No; not that
The extremest Malice of our Fate can hinder:
That still is left us, and on that we’ll feed,
As on the Leavings of Calamity.
There, we will feast, and smile on past Distress,
And hug, in scorn of it, our mutual Ruine.
OSM. O thou dost talk, my Love, as one resolv’d,
Because not knowing Danger. But look forward;
Think on to Morrow, when thou shalt be torn
From these weak, struggling, unextended Arms;
Think how my Heart will heave, and Eyes will strain,
To grasp and reach what is deny’d my Hands:
Think how the Blood will start, and Tears will gush
To follow thee my separating Soul.
Think how I am, when thou shalt wed with Garcia!
Then, will I smear these Walls with Blood, dash my
Disfigur’d Face, and rive my clotted Hair,
Break on the Ground my throbbing Breast,
And grovel with gash’d Hands to scratch a Grave,
Stripping my Nails, to tear this Pavement up,
And bury me alive; where I will bite the Ground
‘Till gorg’d with suffocating Earth.
ALM. O dismal Cruel! heart-breaking Horrour!
&n
bsp; OSM. Then Garcia shall lie panting on thy Bosom,
Luxurious, revelling amidst thy Charms;
And thou perforce must yield, and aid his Transport.
Hell! Hell! have I not Cause to rage and rave?
What are all Racks, and Wheels, and Whips to this?
Are they not soothing Softness, sinking Ease,
And wasting Air to this? O my Almeria,
What do the Damn’d endure, but to despair,
But knowing Heav’n, to know it lost for ever?
ALM. O, I am struck; thy Words are Bolts of Ice,
Which shot into my Breast, now melt and chill me.
I chatter, shake, and faint with thrilling Fears.
No, hold me not- O, let us not support,
But sink each other, lower yet, down, down,
Where levell’d low, no more we’ll lift our Eyes,
But prone, and dumb, rot the firm Face of Earth
With Rivers of incessant scalding Rain.
Act III, Scene 2
The Same. -
Enter ZARA, PEREZ and SELIM. -
ZARA. Somewhat of weight to me, requires his Freedom.
Dare you dispute the King’s Command? Behold
The Royal Signet.
PEREZ. I obey; yet beg
Your Majesty one Moment to defer
Your entring ‘till the Princess is return’d
From visiting the Noble Prisoner. [Exit PEREZ.]
ZARA. Ha!
What saist thou?
OSM. We are lost! undone! discover’d!
Retire, my Life, with speed- Alas, we’re seen!
Speak of Compassion, let her hear you speak
Of interceding for me to conceal our Loves,
If possible.-
ALM. -I cannot speak.
OSM. Let me
Conduct you forth, as not perceiving her,
But ‘till she’s gone; then bless me thus again.
ZARA. Trembling and weeping as he leads her forth!
Confusion in his Face, and Grief in hers!
’Tis plain, I’ve been abus’d- Death and Destruction!
How shall I search into this Mystery?
The bluest Blast of Pestilential Air
Strike, damp, deaden her Charms, and kill his Eyes;
Perdition catch ’em both, and Ruine part ’em.
OSM. This Charity to one unknown, and in
Distress, Heav’n will repay; all Thanks are poor. [Exit ALMERIA.]
ZARA. Damn’d, damn’d Dissembler! Yet I will be calm,
Choak in my Rage, and know the utmost depth
Of this Deceiver- You seem much surpriz’d.
OSM. At your return so soon and unexpected!
ZARA. And so unwish’d, unwanted too it seems.
Confusion! yet I will contain my self.
You’re grown a Favourite since last we parted;
OSM. -Madam!
ZARA. I did not know the Princess Favourite;
Your Pardon, Sir- mistake me not; you think
I’m angry; you’re deceiv’d. I came to set
You free: But shall return much better pleas’d,
To find you have an Interest superiour.
OSM. You do not come to mock my Miseries?
ZARA. I do.
OSM. I could at this time spare your Mirth.
ZARA. I know thou cou’dst, but I’m not often pleas’d,
And will indulge it now. What Miseries?
Who would not be thus happily confin’d,
To be the Care of weeping Majesty?
To have contending Queens, at dead of Night
Forsake their down, to wake with wat’ry Eyes,
And watch like Tapers o’er your Hours of Rest.
O Curse! I cannot hold.-
OSM. Come, ’tis much.
ZARA. Villian!
OSM. How, Madam!
ZARA. Thou shalt die.
OSM. I thank you.
ZARA. Thou ly’st; for now I know for whom thou’dst live.
OSM. Then you may know for whom I’d die.
ZARA. Hell! Hell!
Yet I’ll be calm- Dark and unknown Betrayer!
But now the Dawn begins, and the slow Hand
Of Fate is stretch’d to draw the Veil, and leave
Thee bare, the naked Mark of Publick View.
OSM. You may be still deceiv’d; ’tis in my Pow’r.
ZARA. Ha!
Who waits there? -
Enter PEREZ. -
As you’ll answer it, take heed
This Slave commit no Violence upon
Himself. I’ve been deceiv’d. The Publick Safety
Requires he should be more confin’d; and none,
No not the Princes self, permitted to
Confer with him. I’ll quit you to the King.
Vile and ingrate! too late thou shalt repent
The base Injustice thou hast done my Love:
Yes, thou shalt know, spite of thy past Distress,
And all those Ills which thou so long hast mourn’d;
Heav’n has no Rage, like Love to Hatred turn’d,
Nor Hell a Fury, like a Woman scorn’d.
[Exeunt Omnes.]
Act IV, Scene 1
A Room of State. -
Enter ZARA and SELIM. -
ZARA. Thou hast already rack’d me with thy Stay;
Therefore require me not to ask thee twice:
Reply at once to all. What is concluded?
SELIM. Your Accusation highly has incens’d
The King, and were alone enough to urge
The Fate of Osmyn; but to that, fresh News
Is since arriv’d, of more revolted Troops.
’Tis certain Heli too is fled, and with him
(Which breeds Amazement and Distraction) some
Who bore high Offices of Weight and Trust,
Both in the State and Army. This confirms
The King, in full belief of all you told him,
Concerning Osmyn’s corresponding with
The Heads of those who first began the Mutiny.
Wherefore a Warrant for his Death is sign’d;
And Order given for publick Execution.
ZARA. Ha! haste thee! fly, prevent his Fate and mine;
Find out the King, tell him I have of Weight
More than his Crown t’impart ere Osmyn die.
SELIM. It needs not, for the King will strait be here,
And as to your Revenge, not his own Int’rest,
Pretend to Sacrifice the Life of Osmyn.
ZARA. What shall I say? Invent, contrive, advise
Somewhat to blind the King, and save his Life
In whom I live. Spite of my Rage and Pride,
I am a Woman, and a Lover still.
O! ’tis more Grief but to suppose his Death,
Than still to meet the Rigour of his Scorn.
From my Despair my Anger had its Source;
When he is dead I must despair for ever.
For ever! that’s Despair- it was Distrust
Before; Distrust will ever be in Love,
And Anger in Distrust, both short-liv’d Pains.
But in Despair, and ever-during Death,
No Term, no Bound, but Infinite of Woe.
O Torment, but to think! what then to bear?
Not to be born- Devise the Means to shun it,
Quick; or, by Heav’n, this Dagger drinks thy Blood.
SELIM. My Life is yours, nor wish I to preserve it,
But to serve you. I have already thought.
ZARA. Forgive my Rage; I know thy Love and Truth.
But say, what’s to be done? or when, or how
Shall I prevent, or stop th’ approaching Danger?
SELIM. You must still seem most resolute and fix’d
On Osmyn’s Death; too quick a Change of Mercy
Might breed Suspicion of the Cause. Advise,
That execution may be done in private.
ZARA. On what Pretence?
SELIM. Your own Request’s enough.
However, for a Colour, tell him, you
Have Cause to fear his Guards may be corrupted,
And some of them bought off to Osmyn’s Int’rest;
Who, at the Place of Execution, will
Attempt to force his way for an Escape.
The State of things will countenance all Suspicions.
Then offer to the King to have him strangl’d
In secret, by your Mutes; and get an Order,
That none but Mutes may have Admittance to him.
I can no more, the King is here. Obtain
This Grant- and I’ll acquaint you with the rest. -
Enter KING, Gonsalez, GARCIA, PEREZ. -
KING. Bear to the Dungeon those Rebellious Slaves,
Th’ ignoble Currs, that yelp to fill the Cry,
And spend their Mouths in barking Tyranny.
But for their Leaders, Sancho and Ramirez,
Let ’em be led away to present Death.
Perez, see it perform’d.
GONS. Might I presume,
Their Execution better were deferr’d,
‘Till Osmyn die. Mean time we may learn more
Of this Conspiracy.
KING. Then be it so.
Stay, Soldier; they shall suffer with the Moor.
Are none return’d of those who follow’d Heli?
GONS. None, Sir. Some Papers have been since discover’d
In Roderigo’s House, who fled with him,
Which seem to intimate, as if Alphonso,
Still alive, were arming in Valentia:
Which wears indeed this Colour of a Truth,
They who are fled have that way bent their Course.
Of the same Nature, divers Notes have been