Leon. This blow then to thy heart—

Alon. Ho, Zanga! Isabella! ho! she bleeds!

Leon. This is the only way I would wound thee,

Alon. Bear her to instant help. The world to save her.

Leon. Unhappy man! well may'st thou gaze and tremble.

Alon. Ha! was this woman guilty?—And if not—

Is it in man the sore distress to bear,

When hope itself is blacken'd to despair?

When all the bliss I pant for, is to gain

In hell, a refuge from severer pain?

[exit.

Zan. How stands the great account 'twixt me and vengeance?

Isa. Ah, Zanga, see me tremble! has not yet

Zan. Welters in blood, and gasps for her last breath.

Isa. Alonzo raves,

Zan. Begone. Now, now, my soul, consummate all.

Alon. Oh, Zanga!

Zan. Do not tremble so; but speak.

Alon. I dare not.

[falls on him.

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