but humane in you.

But when arriv'd your dismal news?   Man. This hour.   Zan. What, not a vessel sav'd?   Man. All, all, the storm Devour'd; and now o'er his late envy'd fortune The dolphins bound, and wat'ry mountains roar, Triumphant in his ruin.   Zan. Is Alvarez Determin'd to deny his daughter to him. That treasure was on shore; must that too join The common wreck?   Man. Alvarez pleads, indeed, That Leonora's heart is disinclin'd, And pleads that only; so it was this morning, When he coucurr'd: the tempest broke the match; And sunk his favour, when it sunk the gold. The love of gold is double in his heart; The vice of age, and of Alvarez too.   Zan. How does don Carlos bear it?   Man. Like a man Whose heart feels most a human heart can feel, And reasons best a human head can reason.   Zan. But is he then in absolute despair?   Man. Never to see his Leonora more. And, quite to quench all future hope, Alvarez Urges Alonzo to espouse his daughter This very day; for he has learn'd their loves.   Zan. Ha! was not that receiv'd with ecstasy By don Alonzo?   Man. Yes, at first; but soon A damp came o'er him, it would kill his friend.   Zan. Not if his friend consented: and since now He can't himself espouse her—   Man. Yet, to ask it Has something shocking to a gen'rous mind; At least, Alonzo's spirit startles at it. Wide is the distance between our despair, And giving up a mistress to another. But I must leave you. Carlos wants support In his severe affliction.[exit.   Zan. Ha, it dawns!— It rises to me, like a new-found world To mariners long time distress'd at sea, Sore from a storm, and all their viands spent; Or like the sun just rising out of chaos, Some dregs of ancient night not quite purg'd off. But shall I finish it?—Hoa, Isabella!   Enter Isabella.   I thought of dying; better things come forward; Vengeance is still alive! from her dark covert, With all her snakes erect upon her crest, She stalks in view, and fires me with her charms. When, Isabella, arriv'd don Carlos here?   Isa. Two nights ago.   Zan. That was the very night Before the battle—Mem'ry, set down that; It has the essence of a crocodile, Though yet but in the shell—I'll give it birth— What time did he return?   Isa. At midnight.   Zan. So— Say, did he see that night his Leonora?   Isa. No, my good lord.   Zan. No matter—tell me, woman, Is not Alonzo rather brave than cautious, Honest than subtle, above fraud himself, Slow, therefore, to suspect it in another?   Isa. You best can judge; but so the world thinks of him.   Zan. Why, that was well—go, fetch my tablets hither. [exit Isabella. Two nights ago my father's sacred shade Thrice stalk'd around my bed, and smil'd upon me: He smil'd, a joy then little understood— It must be so—and if so, it is vengeance Worth waking of the dead for.   Re-enter Isabella, with the tablets; Zanga writes, then reads as to himself.   Thus it stands— The father's fix'd—Don Carlos cannot wed— Alonzo may—but that will hurt his friend— Nor can he ask his leave—or, if he did, He might not gain it—It is hard to give Our own consent to ills, though we must bear them. Were it not then a master-piece worth all The wisdom I can boast, first to persuade Alonzo to request it of his friend, His friend to grant—then from that very grant, The strongest proof of friendship man can give (And other motives), to work out a cause Of jealousy, to rack Alonzo's peace? I have turn'd o'er the catalogue of human woes, Which sting the heart of man, and find none equal. It is the hydra of calamities, The sev'nfold death; the jealous are the damn'd. Oh, jealousy, each other passion's calm