Maurice. Thou called'st him? Alhadra. I crept into the cavern: 'Twas dark and very silent. [Then wildly. What said'st thou? No, no! I did not dare call, Ferdinand! Lest I should hear no answer. A brief while, Belike, I lost all thought and memory 400 Of that for which I came! After that pause, O God! I heard a groan !—and follow'd it. And yet another groan-which guided me Into a strange recess and there was light, A hideous light! his torch lay on ground Its flame burnt dimly o'er a chasm's brink. I spake and while I spake, a feeble groan Came from that chasm! It was his last! his death groan ! Maurice. Comfort her, comfort her, Almighty Father! 409 Alhadra. I stood in unimaginable trance And agony, that cannot be remember'd, Listening with horrid hope to hear a groan ! But I had heard his last-my husband's death-groan! Naomi. Haste! let us go! Alhadra. I look'd far down the pit. My sight was bounded by a jutting fragment, And it was stain'd with blood! Then first I shriek'd! My eyeballs burnt! my brain grew hot as fire! And all the hanging drops of the wet roof Turn'd into blood. I saw them turn to Alhadra. On that broad wall I saw a skull; a poppy grew beside it, There was a ghastly solace in the sight! Naomi. I mark'd it not, and in good truth the night-bird Curdled my blood, even till it prick'd the heart. Its note comes dreariest in the fall of the year : [Looking round impatiently. Why don't they come? I will go forth and meet them. [Exit NAOMI. Alhadra (alone). The hanging woods, that touch'd by autumn seem'd As they were blossoming hues of fire and gold, 40 Till he relent, and can no more endure To be a jarring and a dissonant thing Amid this general dance and minstrelsy; But bursting into tears wins back his way, His angry spirit heal'd and harmoniz'd By the benignant touch of love and beauty.1 [A noise at the dungeon-door. It opens, and OSORIO enters with a goblet in his hand. 1 The above soliloquy was published in the Lyrical Ballads (1798, pp. 139, 140), under the title of The Dungeon. Vide p. 85. For one of us must die! Albert. Whom dost thou think me? Osorio. The accomplice and sworn friend of Ferdinand. Albert. Ferdinand! Ferdinand! 'tis a name I know not. Osorio. Good! good! that lie! by Why should I hate thee? This same world Now I am thy master! This is the gaiety of drunken anguish, 151 What boots a weapon in a wither'd arm? Which fain would scoff away the pang of I fix mine eye upon thee, and thou guilt, tremblest! |
