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SCENE II] THE MOURNING BRIDE 391|
Your order was, she should not wait your triumph;
But at some distance follow, thus attended.
Man. Tis false I 'twas more; I bid she should be free:
If not in words, I bid it by my eyes.
Her eyes did more than bid.—Free her and hers
With speed—yet stay—my hands alone can make
Fit restitution here.—Thus I release you,
And by releasing you, enslave myself.
Zara. Such favours so conferred, though when unsought,
Deserve acknowledgment from noble minds.
Such thanks, as one hating to be obliged,
Yet hating more ingratitude, can pay,
I offer.
Man. Born to excel, and to command!
As by transcendent beauty to attract
All eyes, so by pre-eminence of soul
To rule all hearts.
Garcia, what's he, who with contracted brow
[Beholding OSMYN as they unbind him.
And sullen port, glooms downward with his eyes;
At once regardless of his chains, or liberty?
Gar. That, sir, is he of whom I spoke; that's Dsmyn.
Man. He answers well the character you gave him.
Whence comes it, valiant Dsmyn, that a man
So great in arms, as thou art said to be,
So hardly can endure captivity,
The common chance of war?
Osm. Because captivity
Has robbed me of a dear and just revenge.
Man. I understand not that.
Osm. I would not have you.
Zara. That gallant Moor in battle lost a friend,
Whom more than life he loved; and the regret
Of not revenging on his foes that loss
Has caused this melancholy and despair.
Man. She does excuse him; 'tis as I suspected.
[To GoNSALEZ.
Con. That friend may be herself; seem not to heed
His arrogant reply: she looks concerned.
Man. I'll have inquiry made; perhaps his friend
Yet lives, and is a prisoner. His name?
Zara. Heli.