Zara.  Yet  thus,   thus   fallen,  thus   levelled   with   the

vilest,

If  I  have  gained  thy  love,  'tis  glorious  ruin  ;
Ruin  !  'tis  still  to  reign,  and  to  be  more
A  queen  ;  for  what  are  riches,  empire,  power,
But  larger  means  to  gratify  the  will  ?
The  steps  on  which  we  tread,  to  rise,  and  reach
Our  wish ;  and  that  obtained,  down  with  the  scaffolding
Of  sceptres,  crowns,   and  thrones !  they've  served  their

end,
And  are,  like  lumber,  to  be  left  and  scorned.
SCENE  in.]      THE  MOURNING  BRIDE.  445

Osm.  Why  was  I  made  the  instrument  to  throw
In  bonds  the  frame  of  this  exalted  mind  ?

Zara.  We  may  be  free  ;  the  conqueror  is  mine  ;
In  chains  unseen  I  hold  him  by  the  heart,
And  can  unwind  or  strain  him  as  I  please.
Give  me  thy  love,  I'll  give  thee  liberty.
Osm.  In  vain  you  offer,  and  in  vain  require
What  neither  can  bestow :  set  free  yourself,
And  leave  a  slave  the  wretch  that  would  be  so.
Zara.  Thou  canst  not  mean  so  poorly  as  thou  talk'st.
Osm.  Alas !  you  know  me  not.
Zara.  Not  who  thou  art :

But  what  this  last  ingratitude  declares,
This  grovelling  baseness — Thou  say'st  true,  I  know
Thee  not,  fox  what  thou  art  yet  wants  a  name  :
But  something  so  unworthy,  and  so  vile,
That  to  have  loved  thee  makes  me  yet  more  lost,
Than  all  the  malice  of  my  other  fate.
Traitor !  monster !  cold  and  perfidious  slave  !
A  slave,  not  daring  to  be  free !  nor  dares
To  love  above  him,  for  'tis  dangerous  :
'Tis  that  I  know ;  for  thou  dost  look,  with  eyes
Sparkling  desire,  and  trembling  to  possess.
