Zulimez (with a sigh). Proceed, my lord! Alvar. A portrait which she had procured by stealth, бо Hear then my fix'd resolve: I'll linger here In the disguise of a Moresco chieftain.— The Moorish robes ?— Zulimez. All, all are in the sea-cave, (For even then it seems her heart fore- Some furlong hence. I bade our mariners Zulimez. A damning proof! Alvar. My own life wearied me! And but for the imperative Voice within, With mine own hand I had thrown off the burthen. Have done already half the business for us. That Voice, which quelled me, calmed Add too my youth, when last we saw The Belgic states: there joined the better Manhood has swoln my chest, and taught More doubtful, more perplexed; and Transport whate'er we need to the small still Teresa Night after night, she visited my sleep, Now as a saintly sufferer, wan and tearful, Now as a saint in glory beckoning to me ! dell In the Alpuxarras-there where Zagri lived. Alvar. I know it well: it is the obscurest haunt Yes, still as in contempt of proof and Of all the mountains reason, I cherish the fond faith that she is guilt less! Let us away! [Both stand listening. Voices at a distance ! [Exeunt. SCENE II 1 Enter TERESA and VALDEZ. Teresa. I hold Ordonio dear; he is your son And Alvar's brother. Valdez. Love him for himself, Nor make the living wretched for the dead. Teresa. I mourn that you should plead in vain, Lord Valdez, But heaven hath heard my vow, and I remain Faithful to Alvar, be he dead or living. Valdez. Heaven knows with what delight I saw your loves, And could my heart's blood give him back to thee I would die smiling. idle thoughts! But these are 10 ΙΟ Thy dying father comes upon my soul With that same look, with which he gave thee to me; I held thee in my arms a powerless babe, While thy poor mother with a mute entreaty Fixed her faint eyes on mine. Ah not for this, That I should let thee feed thy soul with gloom, And with slow anguish wear away thy life, Teresa. Or in the sultry hour beneath some rock, My hair dishevelled by the pleasant sea breeze, To shape sweet visions, and live o'er again All past hours of delight! If it be wretched To watch some bark, and fancy Alvar there, 1 Here began Osorio, for which see 'APPENDIX D.'-ED. And o'er the smooth spring in the mountain cleft Hung with her lute, and played the self same tune He used to play, and listened to the shadow Herself had made)—if this be wretchedness, And if indeed it be a wretched thing To trick out mine own death-bed, and imagine That I had died, died just ere his return! Then see him listening to my constancy, Or hover round, as he at midnight oft 40 Sits on my grave and gazes at the moon ; Or haply in some more fantastic mood, To be in Paradise, and with choice. flowers Build up a bower where he and I might dwell, And there to wait his coming! O my sire! My Alvar's sire! if this be wretchedness That eats away the life, what were it, think you, If in a most assured reality He should return, and see a brother's 50 [Clasping her forehead. Valdez. A thought? even so! mere The very week he promised his returnthought an empty thought. 1 [Here Valdez bends back, and smiles at her wildness, which Teresa noticing, checks her enthusiasm, and in a soothing half-playful tone and manner, apologizes for her fancy, by the little tale in the parenthesis.] Note in Second Edition and after.-ED. Teresa (abruptly). Was it not then a busy joy? to see him, After those three years' travels! we had no fears The frequent tidings, the ne'er failing letter, Almost endeared his absence! Yet the gladness, His proud forbidding eye, and his dark brow, Chill me like dew-damps of the unwholesome night : My love, a timorous and tender flower, The tumult of our joy! What then if Closes beneath his touch. fancies Hectic and unrefreshed with rest Valdez. You wrong him, maiden! You wrong him, by my soul! Nor was it well To character by such unkindly phrases The stir and workings of that love for you Which he has toiled to smother. 'Twas not well, Teresa (with great tenderness). My Nor is it grateful in you to forget His wounds and perilous voyages, and how 90 With an heroic fearlessness of danger It was not well-You have moved me even to tears. Teresa. Oh pardon me, Lord Valdez! pardon me ! It was a foolish and ungrateful speech, Beyond myself, if I but hear of one Nursed in one cradle? Pardon me, my father ! A six years' absence is a heavy thing, 100 His brother happy, make his aged father My present need is with your son. Sink to the grave in joy. [Looking forward We have hit the time. Here comes he! Enter from the opposite side DON My Lord Ordonio, this Moresco woman you. Is Isidore. (ORDONIO starts.)-You may remember it : Three years ago, three years this very week, You left him at Almeria. Monviedro. Palpably false ! This very week, three years ago, my lord, Ordonio. Hail, reverend father! what (You needs must recollect it by your may be the business? To his false creed, so recently abjured, To the supreme tribunal would have led him, But that he made appeal to you, my lord, The asseverations of these Moors deserve, You were at sea, and there engaged the The murderers doubtless of your brother [TERESA looks at MONVIEDRO What, is he ill, my Lord? how strange Valdez (angrily). You pressed upon him too abruptly, father! Nor less the wish to prove, with what The fate of one, on whom, you know, he The Holy Church regards her faithful soldiers, Thus far prevailed with me that-- Ordonio. doted. Ordonio (starting as in sudden agitation). O Heavens! I?-I doted? [Then recovering himself. Reverend father, Yes! I doted on him. I am much beholden to your high Some four years since to quell these To have been the occasion. Ho! attend rebel Moors, Should prove the patron of this infidel! Alhadra. My Lord, my husband's name me, woman! Alhadra (to Teresa). O gentle lady! Until my lord recover. I am sure, Teresa. Stay, father! stay! my lord A scathing curse! [Then, as if recollecting herself, and with a timid look. You hate him, don't you, lady? Teresa (perceiving that Alhadra is conscious she has spoken imprudently). Oh fear not me! my heart is sad for you. Alhadra. These fell inquisitors ! these sons of blood! As I came on, his face so maddened me, That ever and anon I clutched my dagger And half unsheathed it- Teresa. Be more calm, I pray you. Alhadra. And as he walked along the narrow path 190 Close by the mountain's edge, my soul I can not say; but grant me this, good To have leapt upon him with a tiger's Myself I'll sift him: if I find him sound, You'll grant me your authority and name To liberate his house. Monviedro. Your zeal, my lord, And your late merits in this holy warfare Would authorize an ampler trust--you have it. plunge, And hurl'd him down the rugged precipice, O, it had been most sweet! Teresa. Hush! hush for shame! Where is your woman's heart? Alhadra. O gentle lady! You have no skill to guess my many wrongs, Ordonio. I will attend you home Many and strange! Besides, (ironically) |