_Zan._ Hear then. 'Tis twice three years since that great man (Great let me call him, for he conquer'd me) Made me the captive of his arm in fight. He slew my father, and threw chains o'er me, While I with pious rage pursu'd revenge. I then was young; he plac'd me near his person, And thought me not dishonour'd by his service. One day (may that returning day be night, The stain, the curse, of each succeeding year!) For something, or for nothing, in his pride He struck me. (While I tell it, do I live?) He smote me on the cheek--I did not stab him, For that were poor revenge--E'er since, his folly Has strove to bury it beneath a heap Of kindnesses, and thinks it is forgot. Insolent thought! and like a second blow! Affronts are innocent, where men are worthless; And such alone can wisely drop revenge. _Isa._ But with more temper, Zanga, tell your story; To see your strong emotions startles me. _Zan._ Yes, woman, with the temper that befits it. Has the dark adder venom? So have I When trod upon. Proud Spaniard, thou shalt feel me! For from that day, that day of my dishonour, From that day have I curs'd the rising sun, Which never fail'd to tell me of my shame. From that day have I bless'd the coming night, Which promis'd to conceal it; but in vain; The blow return'd for ever in my dream. Yet on I toil'd, and groan'd for an occasion Of ample vengeance; none has yet arriv'd. Howe'er, at present, I conceive warm hopes Of what may wound him sore in his ambition, Life of his life, and dearer than his soul. By nightly march he purpos'd to surprise The Moorish camp; but I have taken care They shall be ready to receive his favour. Failing in this, a cast of utmost moment, Would darken all the conquests he has won. _Isa._ Just as I enter'd, an express arriv'd. _Zan._ To whom? _Isa._ His friend, don Carlos. _Zan._ Be propitious, Oh! Mahomet, on this important hour, And give at length my famish'd soul revenge! What is revenge, but courage to call in Our honour's debts, and wisdom to convert Others' self-love into our own protection? But see, the morning dawn breaks in upon us; I'll seek don Carlos, and inquire my fate. [_exeunt._ SCENE II. THE PALACE. _Enter Don Manuel and Don Carlos._ _Man._ My lord don Carlos, what brings your express? _Car._ Alonzo's glory, and the Moor's defeat. The field is strew'd with twice ten thousand slain, Though he suspects his measures were betray'd, He'll soon arrive. Oh, how I long t' embrace The first of heroes, and the best of friends! I lov'd fair Leonora long before The chance of battle gave me to the Moors, From whom so late Alonzo set me free; And while I groan'd in bondage, I deputed This great Alonzo, whom her father honours, To be my gentle advocate in love, To stir her heart, and fan its fires for me. _Man._ And what success?