Ber. Child, thou hast moved me strangely. I would grant thy prayer, but thou shalt never wed one of that accursed race. I bear no hate to the young lord, save that he is thy country's foe; and if he gains his freedom, he will win thee too. By Allah! it shall never be. Yet, listen, Zara! If I grant his life wilt thou ask no more?
Zara. 'T is all I ask; grant me but this, and I will give thee all the gratitude and love this poor heart can bestow.
Ber. Then 'tis done. Yet hold! the price that thou must pay for this dear boon is large. Thou must swear never to see him more; must banish love, nay, even memory of that fatal hour when first he saw and saved thee. If thou wilt vow to wed none but one of thine own race, his life and liberty are thine to give. Speak, Zara! Wilt thou do all this?
Zara. Oh, Father, Father, anything but this! Pity, gratitude, and love have bound me to him, and the fetters thou hast cast around him are not stronger than the deep affection he hath wakened in my heart. Ah, why wilt thou not give life and liberty to him, and joy to thy child? I will not take the vow.
Ber. Then his fate is sealed. Thy girl's heart is too selfish to forego its own joy for his sake. Thou dost not love enough to sacrifice thy happiness to win his freedom. I had thought more nobly of thee, Zara.
Zara. I _will_ be worthy all thou mayst have thought me; but thou canst little know the desolation thou hast brought me. Thou shalt see how deeply thou hast wronged me, and my love. I will bear all, suffer all, if it will win the life and liberty of him I love so deeply and so well.
Ber. Would to Heaven thou hadst never seen this English stranger! Again, and for the last time, Zara, I ask thee, Wilt thou leave the captive to his fate, and seek another heart to love?
Zara. Never! I could mourn his death with bitter tears; but oh, my love is worthy a deeper sacrifice! He shall never suffer one sad hour if I may spare him, and never know that liberty to him will bring such life-long sorrow unto me.
Ber. Then thou wilt take the vow I bid thee?
Zara. I will.
Ber. Then swear by all thou dost hold most dear, and by thy mother's spirit, to wed one only of thy father's race; and through joy and sorrow, thro' youth and age, to keep thy vow unbroken until death.
Zara. I swear; and may the spirit of that mother look in pity on the child whose love hath made her life so dark a path to tread.
Ber. May thou find comfort, Zara! I would have spared thee this, but now it cannot be. Yet thy reward shall well repay thee for thy sacrifice.
The English knight is free, and thou shalt restore him unto life and liberty. May Allah bless thee, child!
[_Exit_ Bernardo.
Zara. 'Tis over! The bright dream is past. Oh, Ernest! few will love thee as I have done; few suffer for thee all that I so gladly bear; and none can honor thy true, noble heart more tenderly than she whose hard lot it is to part from thee forever. Still amid my blighted hopes one thought can brighten my deep sorrow,--this sacrifice but renders me more worthy of thee, Ernest. Now farewell, love; my poor heart may grieve for its lost joy, and look for comfort but in Heaven.
CURTAIN.
SCENE SEVENTH.
[_The cell._ Ernest _chained_. _Enter_ Zara.]
Zara. My lord, I seek thee with glad tidings.
Ernest. Why so pale, dear lady? Let no care for me dim thine eye, or chase the roses from thy cheek. I would not barter this dark cell while thou art here for a monarch's fairest home.
Zara. Thou wilt gladly leave it when I tell thee thy captivity is o'er, and I am here to set thee free. I have won thy liberty, and thou mayst fly with honor all unstained; for here my father grants thy pardon, and now bids thee go.
Ernest. How can I thank thee for thy tenderness and pity; how may I best show the gratitude I owe thee for the priceless boon of freedom thou hast this day given?
Zara. Nay, spare thy thanks! I have but paid the debt I owed thee, and 'tis but life for life. Now haste; for ere the sunset hour thou must be beyond the city gates, and on thy way to home and happiness [_takes off his chains_]. And now, brave heart, thou art free, and Zara's task is done [_turns to go_].
Ernest. Stay, lady! thou hast loosed the chains that bound these hands, but oh, thou hast cast a stronger one around my heart; and with my liberty comes love, and thoughts of thee, thy beauty, tenderness, and all thou hast done for me. Lady, thou hast cast away my fetters, but I am captive still [_he kneels_]. Ah, listen, Zara, while I tell thee of the love that like a sweet flower hath blossomed in this dreary cell, and made e'en liberty less precious than one word, one smile from thee.
Zara. I may not listen,--'tis too late, and 'tis a sin for me to hear thee. Ah, ask me not why, but hasten hence, and leave me to the fate thou canst not lighten.
Ernest. Never! I will not leave thee till I have won the right to cheer and comfort her who has watched so fearlessly o'er me. Tell me all, and let me share thy sorrow, Zara.
Zara. Ah, no! It cannot be! Thou canst not break my solemn vow. Go!
leave me! Heaven bless thee, and farewell!
Ernest. A solemn vow! Hast thou bound thyself to win my freedom? Then never will I leave this cell till thou hast told me all. I swear it, and I will keep the oath.
Zara. Ernest, I implore thee, fly, or it may be too late. Thou canst not help me, and I will not tell thee. Ah, leave me! I cannot save thee if thou tarry now.
Ernest. Never, till thou hast told me by what noble sacrifice thou hast saved this worthless life of mine. Let me free thee from thy sorrow, Zara, or help thee bear it. Thou hast won my pardon, and I will not go till thou hast told me how.
Zara. And wilt thou promise to go hence when I have told thee all, and let me have the joy of knowing thou art safe?
Ernest. I _will_ leave thee, Zara, if thou canst bid me go. Now tell me all thy sorrow, love, and let me share it with thee.
Zara. Ernest, I sought to save thee; for I had learned to love the noble stranger who had done so kind a deed for me. I sought to win my father back to gratitude. I wept and sued in vain,--he would not grant thy life, the boon for which I prayed. Alone I watched above thee, and when the warrant for thy death was sent, I took it from his pillow and destroyed it. Thou wast safe. My father charged me with the deed; and when I told him all, he bid me love no more, and leave thee to thy fate.
He bid me show how strong my woman's heart could be, and told me if I yet desired thy freedom, I might win it if I took a solemn vow to wed none but of my father's race. I took the vow, and thou art free. Ah, no more!--and let us part while yet I have the strength to say farewell.
Ernest. And is it yet too late? Canst thou not take back the vow, and yet be mine? I cannot leave thee,--rather be a captive here till thou shalt set me free. Come, Zara, fly with me, and leave the father who would blight thy life to satisfy a fierce revenge. Ah, come and let me win thee back to love and happiness.
Zara. Ernest, tempt me not. By that sad vow I swore by all my future hopes, and by my dead mother's spirit, I would never listen to thy words of love. And stern and cruel tho' my father be, I cannot leave him now.
Deep and bitter though this sorrow be, 'tis nobler far to bear the burden than to cast it down and seek in idle joys to banish penitence; for thorns would lie amid the flowers. Farewell! Forget me, and in happy England find some other heart to gladden with thy love. Oh, may she prove as fond and faithful as thy Moorish Zara.
Ernest. I will plead no more, nor add to that sad heart another sorrow.
I will be worthy such true love, and though we meet no more on earth, in all my wanderings sweet tender thoughts of thee shall dwell within my heart. I will bear my sorrow as a brave man should. The life thou hast saved and brightened by thy love shall yet be worthy thee. Farewell! May all the blessings a devoted heart can give rest on thee, dearest. Heaven bless thee, and grant that we shall meet again.
[_Exit._
Zara. Gone, gone, forever! Oh, Father, couldst thou know the deep grief and despair thy cruelty has brought two loving hearts, thou wouldst relent, and call them back to happiness. Where can I look for comfort now? [_Weeps._] I will seek the good priest who hath so long watched above the motherless child. I must find rest in some kind heart, and he will cheer, and teach me how to suffer silently. I will seek old Hernando's cell.
[_Exit_ Zara.
CURTAIN.
SCENE EIGHTH.
[_Cell of the priest._ Hernando _reading_. _Enter_ Zara.]
Zara. Father, I have come for help and counsel. Wilt thou give it now as thou hast ever done to her who comes to learn of thee how best to bear a sorrow cheerfully and well?
Her. Speak on, dear child. I know thy sorrow. Thou hast loved, and sacrificed thy own life's joy to win a brave heart's freedom. Thou hast done nobly and well; thy sorrow will but render thee more worthy of the happiness thou hast so truly won.
Zara. No, no; we shall never meet again on earth. Ah, holy father, they who told thee of my love for one who well might win the noblest heart, have told thee but the lightest part of the deep grief that bears me down. Listen to me, Father, and then give me comfort if thou canst. To win my lover's freedom, I have sworn a solemn oath to wed none but of my father's race. Ernest came from sunny England, and I am the daughter of a Moorish lord. Alas, 'tis vain to hope! The vow is given, and must be kept.