Alon. Will the fair Leonora pass this way? Zan. She will, my lord, and soon. Alon. Come near me, Zanga; Zan. Thanks to Zanga, [aside. Alon. Yes, curs'd of heav'n! I lov'd myself, and now, Zan. We hear, my lord, that in that action too, Alon. It did—with more than the expense of mine: [retires. Zan. Hadst thou a thousand lives, thy death would please me. [exit. Alon. When nature ends with anguish like to this, Leon. The mighty conqueror Alon. Oh, cruel insult! are those tears your sport, Leon. That passion which you boast of is your guilt, Alon. You, madam, ought to thank those crimes you blame! Leon. Farewell for ever! Sweet to die! Oh, heav'n! Alon. Oh, Leonora! Leon. If from your guilt none suffer'd but yourself, [going.