2
The Mourning Bride.
Leon.For Heaven's sake, dear Madam, moderateYour Griefs, there is no Cause———
Alm.Peace——— No Cause! yes, there is Eternal Cause,And Misery Eternal will succeed.Thou canst not tell———thou hast indeed no Cause.
Leo.Believe me, Madam, I lament Anselmo,And always did compassionate his Fortune;Have often wept, to see how cruellyYour Father kept in Chains, his Fellow-King:And oft at Night, when all have been retir'd,Have stoll'n from Bed, and to his Prison crept:Where, while his Gaoler slept, I thro' the GrateHave softly whisper'd, and enquir'd his Health;Sent in my Sighs and Pray'rs for his Deliv'rance;For Sighs and Pray'rs were all that I could offer.
Alm.Indeed thou hast a soft and gentle Nature,That thus couldst melt to see a Stranger's Wrongs.O Leonora, hadst thou known Anselmo,How would thy Heart have bled to see his Suff'rings!Thou hadst no Cause, but general Compassion.
Leo.My Love of you, my Royal Mistress, gave me Cause,My Love of you begot my Grief for him,For I had heard, that when the Chance of WarHad bless'd Anselmo's Arms with Victory,And the rich Spoil of all the Field, and youThe Glory of the whole, were made the PreyOf his Success; that then, in spite of Hate,Revenge, and that Hereditary FeudEntail'd between Valentia's and Granada's Kings;He did endear himself to your Affection,By all the worthy and indulgent ways,His most industrious Goodness could invent;Proposing by a Match between AlphonsoHis Son, the brave Valentia Prince, and you,To end the long Dissention, and uniteThe Jarring Crowns.
Alm.O Alphonso, Alphonso! thou art tooAt Peace; Father and Son are now no more———
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