With womanish pulls of pity. Dusky slave, Now I will kill thee pleasantly, and count it Among my comfortable thoughts hereafter. Ferdinand. And all my little ones fatherless! Die thou first. [They fight. OSORIO disarms FER DINAND, and in disarming him, throws his sword up that recess, opposite to which they were standing. Ferdinand (springing wildly towards Osorio). Still I can strangle thee! Osorio. Nay, fool! stand off. I'll kill thee-but not so! Go fetch thy sword. [FERDINAND hurries into the recess with his torch. OSORIO follows him, and in a moment returns alone. 1 Against this line Coleridge writes in MS. II. Osorio has thrust Ferdinand down the chasm. I think it an important instance how Dreams and Prophecies coöperate to their own completion.'-ED. 2 The whole of this scene between Maria and her foster-mother was omitted as unfit for the stage in the acted Remorse, but was afterwards, with the exception of the first two speeches, printed in an appendix to the second and later editions. All of it but the first speech originally appeared, under the title of 'The Foster-Mother's Tale; a Dramatic Fragment,' as one of Coleridge's contributions to the Lyrical Ballads, 1798 (vide p. 83 of the present volume), and continued to appear there, with some further omission as regards the opening part, in the later editions of 1800, 1802, and 1805. Cottle in his Early Recollections of Coleridge (Lond. 1837, vol. i. pp. 234, 235), prints a version of it, with some slight variations, from a copy in Coleridge's own writing, given to him by the poet in the summer of 1797.—ED. In gentle phrase, then bid me sing to you, 'Tis more like heaven to come, than what has been ! Till his brain turn'd-and ere his twentieth year, He had unlawful thoughts of many things. Maria. O my dear mother! this strange And though he pray'd, he never loved to man has left me As hang on brambles. Well, he brought Sobb'd like a child-it almost broke his him home, And so the babe grew up a pretty boy. heart. And once as he was working in the cellar, He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's, Who sung a doleful song about green fields, How sweet it were on lake or wild savannah But knew the names of birds, and mock'd To hunt for food, and be a naked man, their notes, And whistled, as he were a bird himself. With earth and water on the stumps of trees. A friar who gather'd simples in the wood, A grey-hair'd man he loved this little boy, 190 The boy loved him-and, when the friar taught him, He soon could write with the pen; and from that time Lived chiefly at the convent or the castle. Such aids as might preserve you from [SCENE changes to the mountains by moon perdition. There you might dwell. 300 Maria. With tame and credulous faith, Had once a mind, which might have given Such as the angels wear! Francesco (stifling his rage). Where is your son, my lord? Velez. I have not seen him, father, since he left you. Francesco. His lordship's generous nature That Ferdinand (or if not he his wife) 311 Of Him whose law was love unutterable! First Moresco. The law which forced these Christian dresses on us, 330 'Twere pleasant to cleave down the wretch who framed it. Second. Yet 'tis not well to trample on First. Our country robes are dear. [A third Moresco, NAOMI, advances Naomi. Woman! may Alla and the prophet bless thee! We have obey'd thy call. Where is our chief? Velez (rapidly). Father! I have long And why didst thou enjoin the Moorish suspected it-her brain Heed it not, father! Francesco. Nay-but I must heed it. Maria. Thou miserable man! I fear thee not, garments? Alhadra (lifting up her eyes, and looking round on the circle). Warriors of Mahomet, faithful in the battle, My countrymen ! Come ye prepared to work An honourable deed? work it 320 In the slave's garb? Nor prize a life which soon may weary me. Bear witness, Heav'n! I neither scorn nor hate him— But O! 'tis wearisome to mourn for evils, Still mourn, and have no power to remedy! [Exit MARIA. Christian robes ! And would ye 340 Curse on those They are spell-blasted; and whoever wears them, |
