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The REVENGE.
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For fear they turn to Serpents as they lye,
And pay you for their Nourishment with Death.
Carlos is dead, and Leonora dying;
Both innocent, both murder'd, both by me.
That Heav'nly Maid, which should have liv'd for ever,
At least have gently slept her Soul away;
Whose Life should have shut up as Evening Flow'rs
At the departing Sun,———Was Murder'd! Murder'd!
O Shame? O Guilt! O Horror! O Remorse!
O Punishment! Had Satan never fell,
Hell had been made for me.———O Leonora!
And pay you for their Nourishment with Death.
Carlos is dead, and Leonora dying;
Both innocent, both murder'd, both by me.
That Heav'nly Maid, which should have liv'd for ever,
At least have gently slept her Soul away;
Whose Life should have shut up as Evening Flow'rs
At the departing Sun,———Was Murder'd! Murder'd!
O Shame? O Guilt! O Horror! O Remorse!
O Punishment! Had Satan never fell,
Hell had been made for me.———O Leonora!
Zan.Must I despise Thee too as well as hate Thee?
Complain of Grief? Complain Thou art a Man.
Priam from Fortune's lofty Summit fell,
Great Alexander 'midst his Conquests mourn'd,
Heroes and Demigods have known their Sorrows,
Cæsars have wept, and I have had my Blow:
But 'tis Reveng'd, and now my Work is done.
Yet, e'er I fall, be it one part of Vengeance,
To make ev'n Thee confess that I am just.
Thou see'st a Prince, whose Father thou hast Slain,
Whose Native Country thou hast laid in Blood,
Whose Sacred Person, Oh, thou hast prophan'd!
Whose Reign extinguish'd; What was left to me
So highly born! No Kingdom, but Revenge;
No Treasure, but thy Tortures, and thy Groans.
If Men shall ask who brought thee to thy End,
Tell them, The Moor, and they will not despise thee.
If cold white Mortals censure this great Deed,
Warn them, they judge not of superior Beings
Souls made of Fire, and Children of the Sun,
With whom Revenge is Virtue. Fare thee well—
Now fully satisfy'd I should take leave;
But one thing grieves me, since thy Death is near,
I eave thee my Example how to dye.
Complain of Grief? Complain Thou art a Man.
Priam from Fortune's lofty Summit fell,
Great Alexander 'midst his Conquests mourn'd,
Heroes and Demigods have known their Sorrows,
Cæsars have wept, and I have had my Blow:
But 'tis Reveng'd, and now my Work is done.
Yet, e'er I fall, be it one part of Vengeance,
To make ev'n Thee confess that I am just.
Thou see'st a Prince, whose Father thou hast Slain,
Whose Native Country thou hast laid in Blood,
Whose Sacred Person, Oh, thou hast prophan'd!
Whose Reign extinguish'd; What was left to me
So highly born! No Kingdom, but Revenge;
No Treasure, but thy Tortures, and thy Groans.
If Men shall ask who brought thee to thy End,
Tell them, The Moor, and they will not despise thee.
If cold white Mortals censure this great Deed,
Warn them, they judge not of superior Beings
Souls made of Fire, and Children of the Sun,
With whom Revenge is Virtue. Fare thee well—
Now fully satisfy'd I should take leave;
But one thing grieves me, since thy Death is near,
I eave thee my Example how to dye.
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