Your friendship (and what nobler passion claims Don Carlos' match, and wherefore urge Alonzo's? A higher bidder is a better friend; And there are princes sigh for Leonora. When your friend's gone, you'll wed; why then the cause, Which gives you Leonora now, will cease. Why then you heap new torments on your friend, 'Tis well; he is disturb'd; it makes him pause. [Aside. ALONZO. Think'st thou, my Zanga, should I ask Don Carlos, His goodness will consent that I should wed her? ZANGA. I know it would. ALONZO. But then the cruelty To ask it; and for me to ask it of him! ZANGA. Methinks, you are severe upon your friend: ALONZO. That is the very reason which forbids it: In me, it so resembles a demand, My lord ZANGA. you know the sad alternative. Is Leonora worth one pang or not? It hurts not me, my lord, but as I love you; And, give me leave to add, a better too, Clear'd from those errors, which, tho' caus'd by virtue, Are such as may hereafter give you pain. Don Lopez of Castile would not demur thus. ALONZO. Perish the name! What! sacrifice the fair ZANGA. Half my work is done. I must secure Don Carlos, ere Alonzo speaks with him. [Exit Al., [He gives a message to a servant, then returns. Proud, hated Spain! oft drench'd in Moorish blood; Dost thou not feel a deadly foe within thee? Shake to the centre, if Alonzo's dear. Blast the bold thought, and curse him with her charms. But see the melancholy Lover comes. Enter Don CARLOS. CARLOS. Hope, thou hast told me lies from day to day, An artificial happiness from pains: Ev'n joys are pains, because they cannot last. [Sighs. Of such as have the world in their possession, How many lift the head, look gay and smile, What we have try'd, and struggle with conviction: And reverend grey Threescore is but a voucher, That Thirty told us true. ZANGA. My noble lord, I mourn your fate: But are no hopes surviving? CARLOS. No hopes. Alvarez has a heart of steel: 'Tis fixt; 'tis past; 'tis absolute despair. ZANGA. You wanted not to have your heart made tender By your own pains, to feel a friend's distress. CARLOS. I understand you well. Alonzo loves; I pity him. ZANGA. I dare be sworn you do: Yet he has other thoughts. CARLOS. What canst thou mean? ZANGA. Indeed he has; and fears to ask a favour, I CARLOS. pray be plain: his happiness is mine. ZANGA. He loves to death; but so reveres his friend, Without your leave, and that he fears to ask CARLOS. Ha! if he weds, I am undone indeed: ZANGA. Alas! my lord, you know his heart is steel: 'Tis fixt! 'tis past ! 'tis absolute despair. CARLOS. O cruel heav'n! and is it not enough Ask my consent!-Must I then give her to him? ZANGA. [Aside.] A storm of plagues upon him! He refuses. CARLOS. What! wed her ?—and to day? ZANGA. To day, or never To-morrow may some wealthier lover bring, |