her_] Ill-fated woman!
Why hast thou forc'd me back into the gulf
Of agonies I had block'd up from thought?
For, since thou hast replung'd me in my torture,
I will be satisfy'd.

_Leon._ Be satisfy'd!

_Alon._ Yes, thy own mouth shall witness it against thee;
I will be satisfy'd.

_Leon._ Of what?

_Alon._ Of what?
How dar'st thou ask that question? Woman, woman,
Weak and assur'd at once! thus 'tis for ever.
Who told thee that thy virtue was suspected?
Who told thee I design'd upon thy life?
You found the dagger; but that could not speak:
Nor did I tell thee; who did tell thee then?
Guilt, conscious guilt!

_Leon._ This to my face! Oh, heaven!

_Alon._ This to thy very soul.

_Leon._ Thou'rt not in earnest?

_Alon._ Serious as death.

_Leon._ Then heav'n have mercy on thee.
Till now, I struggled not to think it true;
I sought conviction, and would not believe it.
And dost thou force me? this shall not be borne
Thou shalt repent this insult. [_going._

_Alon._ Madam, stay.
Your passion's wise; 'tis a disguise for guilt:
You and your thousand arts shall not escape me.

_Leon._ Arts?

_Alon._ Arts! Confess; for death is in my hand.

_Leon._ 'Tis in your words.

_Alon._ Confess, confess, confess!
Nor tear my veins with passion to compel thee.

_Leon._ I scorn to answer thee, presumptuous man!

_Alon._ Deny then, and incur a fouler shame.
Where did I find this picture?

_Leon._ Ha, don Carlos!
By my best hopes, more welcome than thy own.

_Alon._ I know it; but is vice so very rank,
That thou shouldst dare to dash it in my face?
Nature is sick of thee, abandon'd woman!

_Leon._ Repent.

_Alon._ Is that for me?

_Leon._ Fall, ask my pardon.

_Alon._ Astonishment!

_Leon._ Dar'st thou persist to think I am dishonest?

_Alon._ I know thee so.

_Leon._ This blow then to thy heart--

[_she stabs herself; he endeavours to prevent her._

_Alon._ Ho, Zanga! Isabella! ho! she bleeds!
Descend, ye blessed angels, to assist her!

_Leon._ This is the only way I would wound thee,
Though most unjust. Now think me guilty still.

_Enter Isabella._

_Alon._ Bear her to instant help. The world to save her.

_Leon._ Unhappy man! well may'st thou gaze and tremble.
But fix thy terror and amazement right;
Not on my blood, but on thy own distraction.
What hast thou done? whom censur'd--Leonora!
When thou hadst censur'd, thou wouldst save her life:
Oh, inconsistent! should I live in sham