Teresa. Know you that stately Moor?
Alhadra. I know him not:
But doubt not he is some Moresco chieftain,
Who hides himself among the Alpujarras.
But doubt not he is some Moresco chieftain,
Who hides himself among the Alpujarras.
Teresa. The Alpujarras? Does he know his danger,
So near this seat?
So near this seat?
Alhadra. He wears the Moorish robes too, 250
As in defiance of the royal edict.
As in defiance of the royal edict.
[Alhadra advances to Alvar, who has walked to the back of the stage, near the rocks. Teresa drops her veil.
Alhadra. Gallant Moresco! An inquisitor,
Monviedro, of known hatred to our race——
Monviedro, of known hatred to our race——
Alvar. You have mistaken me. I am a Christian.
Alhadra. He deems, that we are plotting to ensnare him: 255
Speak to him, Lady—none can hear you speak,
And not believe you innocent of guile.
Speak to him, Lady—none can hear you speak,
And not believe you innocent of guile.
Teresa. If aught enforce you to concealment, Sir—
Alhadra. He trembles strangely.
[Alvar sinks down and hides his face in his robe.
Teresa. See, we have disturbed him.
[Approaches nearer to him.
I pray you, think us friends—uncowl your face, 260
For you seem faint, and the night-breeze blows healing.
I pray you, think us friends!
[Approaches nearer to him.
I pray you, think us friends—uncowl your face, 260
For you seem faint, and the night-breeze blows healing.
I pray you, think us friends!
Alvar (raising his head). Calm, very calm!
'Tis all too tranquil for reality!
And she spoke to me with her innocent voice, 265
That voice, that innocent voice! She is no traitress!
'Tis all too tranquil for reality!
And she spoke to me with her innocent voice, 265
That voice, that innocent voice! She is no traitress!
Teresa. Let us retire (haughtily to Alhadra).
Alhadra. He is indeed a Christian.
Alvar (aside). She deems me dead, yet wears no mourning garment!
Why should my brother's—wife—wear mourning garments? 270
[To Teresa.
Your pardon, noble dame! that I disturbed you:
I had just started from a frightful dream.
Why should my brother's—wife—wear mourning garments? 270
[To Teresa.
Your pardon, noble dame! that I disturbed you:
I had just started from a frightful dream.
Alvar. The Past lives o'er again
In its effects, and to the guilty spirit 275
The ever-frowning Present is its image.
In its effects, and to the guilty spirit 275
The ever-frowning Present is its image.
Teresa. Traitress! (Then aside.)
What sudden spell o'ermasters me?
Why seeks he me, shunning the Moorish woman?
What sudden spell o'ermasters me?
Why seeks he me, shunning the Moorish woman?
Alvar. I dreamt I had a friend, on whom I leant
With blindest trust, and a betrothéd maid, 280
Whom I was wont to call not mine, but me:
For mine own self seem'd nothing, lacking her.
This maid so idolized, that trusted friend
Dishonoured in my absence, soul and body!
Fear, following guilt, tempted to blacker guilt, 285
And murderers were suborned against my life.
But by my looks, and most impassioned words,
I roused the virtues that are dead in no man,
Even in the assassins' hearts! they made their terms,
And thanked me for redeeming them from murder. 290
With blindest trust, and a betrothéd maid, 280
Whom I was wont to call not mine, but me:
For mine own self seem'd nothing, lacking her.
This maid so idolized, that trusted friend
Dishonoured in my absence, soul and body!
Fear, following guilt, tempted to blacker guilt, 285
And murderers were suborned against my life.
But by my looks, and most impassioned words,
I roused the virtues that are dead in no man,
Even in the assassins' hearts! they made their terms,
And thanked me for redeeming them from murder. 290
Alhadra. You are lost in thought: hear him no more, sweet Lady!
Teresa. From morn to night I am myself a dreamer,
And slight things bring on me the idle mood!
Well sir, what happened then?
And slight things bring on me the idle mood!
Well sir, what happened then?
Alvar. On a rude rock,
A rock, methought, fast by a grove of firs, 295
Whose thready leaves to the low-breathing gale
Made a soft sound most like the distant ocean,
I stayed, as though the hour of death were passed,
And I were sitting in the world of spirits—
For all things seemed unreal! There I sate— 300
The dews fell clammy, and the night descended,
Black, sultry, close! and ere the midnight hour
A storm came on, mingling all sounds of fear,
That woods, and sky, and mountains, seemed one havock.
The second flash of lightning shewed a tree 305
Hard by me, newly scathed. I rose tumultuous:
My soul worked high, I bared my head to the storm,
And with loud voice and clamorous agony,
Kneeling I prayed to the great Spirit that made me,
[833] Prayed, that Remorse might fasten on their hearts, 310
And cling with poisonous tooth, inextricable
As the gored lion's bite!
A rock, methought, fast by a grove of firs, 295
Whose thready leaves to the low-breathing gale
Made a soft sound most like the distant ocean,
I stayed, as though the hour of death were passed,
And I were sitting in the world of spirits—
For all things seemed unreal! There I sate— 300
The dews fell clammy, and the night descended,
Black, sultry, close! and ere the midnight hour
A storm came on, mingling all sounds of fear,
That woods, and sky, and mountains, seemed one havock.
The second flash of lightning shewed a tree 305
Hard by me, newly scathed. I rose tumultuous:
My soul worked high, I bared my head to the storm,
And with loud voice and clamorous agony,
Kneeling I prayed to the great Spirit that made me,
[833] Prayed, that Remorse might fasten on their hearts, 310
And cling with poisonous tooth, inextricable
As the gored lion's bite!
Teresa. A fearful curse!
Alhadra. But dreamt you not that you returned and killed them?
Dreamt you of no revenge?
Dreamt you of no revenge?
Alvar. She would have died
Died in her guilt—perchance by her own hands! 315
And bending o'er her self-inflicted wounds,
I might have met the evil glance of frenzy,
And leapt myself into an unblest grave!
I prayed for the punishment that cleanses hearts:
For still I loved her!
Died in her guilt—perchance by her own hands! 315
And bending o'er her self-inflicted wounds,
I might have met the evil glance of frenzy,
And leapt myself into an unblest grave!
I prayed for the punishment that cleanses hearts:
For still I loved her!
Alhadra. And you dreamt all this? 320
Teresa. My soul is full of visions all as wild!
Alhadra. There is no room in this heart for puling love-tales.
Teresa (lifts up her veil, and advances to Alvar). Stranger, farewell! I guess not who you are,
Nor why you so addressed your tale to me.
Your mien is noble, and, I own, perplexed me, 325
With obscure memory of something past,
Which still escaped my efforts, or presented
Tricks of a fancy pampered with long wishing.
If, as it sometimes happens, our rude startling,
Whilst your full heart was shaping out its dream, 330
Drove you to this, your not ungentle, wildness—
You have my sympathy, and so farewell!
But if some undiscovered wrongs oppress you,
And you need strength to drag them into light,
The generous Valdez, and my Lord Ordonio, 335
Have arm and will to aid a noble sufferer,
Nor shall you want my favourable pleading.[833:1]
Nor why you so addressed your tale to me.
Your mien is noble, and, I own, perplexed me, 325
With obscure memory of something past,
Which still escaped my efforts, or presented
Tricks of a fancy pampered with long wishing.
If, as it sometimes happens, our rude startling,
Whilst your full heart was shaping out its dream, 330
Drove you to this, your not ungentle, wildness—
You have my sympathy, and so farewell!
But if some undiscovered wrongs oppress you,
And you need strength to drag them into light,
The generous Valdez, and my Lord Ordonio, 335
Have arm and will to aid a noble sufferer,
Nor shall you want my favourable pleading.[833:1]
[Exeunt Teresa and Alhadra.
Alvar (alone). 'Tis strange! It cannot be! my Lord Ordonio!
[834] Her Lord Ordonio! Nay, I will not do it!
I cursed him once—and one curse is enough! 340
How sad she looked, and pale! but not like guilt—
And her calm tones—sweet as a song of mercy!
If the bad spirit retain'd his angel's voice,
Hell scarce were Hell. And why not innocent?
Who meant to murder me, might well cheat her? 345
But ere she married him, he had stained her honour;
Ah! there I am hampered. What if this were a lie
Framed by the assassin? Who should tell it him,
If it were truth? Ordonio would not tell him.
Yet why one lie? all else, I know, was truth. 350
No start, no jealousy of stirring conscience!
And she referred to me—fondly, methought!
Could she walk here if she had been a traitress?
Here where we played together in our childhood?
Here where we plighted vows? where her cold cheek 355
Received my last kiss, when with suppressed feelings
She had fainted in my arms? It cannot be!
'Tis not in nature! I will die believing,
That I shall meet her where no evil is,
No treachery, no cup dashed from the lips. 360
I'll haunt this scene no more! live she in peace!
Her husband—aye her husband! May this angel
New mould his canker'd heart! Assist me, heaven,
That I may pray for my poor guilty brother! [Exit.
[834] Her Lord Ordonio! Nay, I will not do it!
I cursed him once—and one curse is enough! 340
How sad she looked, and pale! but not like guilt—
And her calm tones—sweet as a song of mercy!
If the bad spirit retain'd his angel's voice,
Hell scarce were Hell. And why not innocent?
Who meant to murder me, might well cheat her? 345
But ere she married him, he had stained her honour;
Ah! there I am hampered. What if this were a lie
Framed by the assassin? Who should tell it him,
If it were truth? Ordonio would not tell him.
Yet why one lie? all else, I know, was truth. 350
No start, no jealousy of stirring conscience!
And she referred to me—fondly, methought!
Could she walk here if she had been a traitress?
Here where we played together in our childhood?
Here where we plighted vows? where her cold cheek 355
Received my last kiss, when with suppressed feelings
She had fainted in my arms? It cannot be!
'Tis not in nature! I will die believing,
That I shall meet her where no evil is,
No treachery, no cup dashed from the lips. 360
I'll haunt this scene no more! live she in peace!
Her husband—aye her husband! May this angel
New mould his canker'd heart! Assist me, heaven,
That I may pray for my poor guilty brother! [Exit.
FOOTNOTES:
[824:1] [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.] Editions 2, 3, 1829.
Here Valdez bends back, with a smile of wonder at the witness of the Fancy, which Teresa noting, she checks her enthusiasm, and in a persuasive half-pleading tone and action exemplifies her meaning in the little Tale included in the Parenthesis. MS. Note to First Edition.
[830:2] 229. Compare line 13 of the lines 'Addressed to a Young Man of Fortune', p. 157.
[833:1] (then an half-pause and dropping the voice as hinted by the relaxation of the metre—'Nor shall you,' &c.).—I mention this because it is one of the lines for which Mr. Gifford (whose §§ in the Quarterly Rev. drove M. L. mad with a severer fit than she had ever had before) declared me at Murray's shop fit to be whipt as an idle Schoolboy—and, alas, I had conceited it to be a little beauty! MS. H.
LINENOTES:
[29]
him] him Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[50]
my] my Editions 2, 3, 1829.
[54]
Teresa (abruptly). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[61]
fancies] dreams Edition 1.
[62]
Teresa (with great tenderness). My, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[75]
Gallant Ordonio! (Pauses, then tenderly.) Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[77]
And most delight his spirit, go, thou make Edition 1.
[94]
Lord Valdez] my father Edition 1.
[103]
forward] forwards Editions 1, 2, 3.
[104]
what] some Edition 1.
[105]
Monviedro (having first made his obeisance to Valdez and Teresa). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
After 106 [Looking forward Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[112]
his] their Edition 1.
[118]
lessoned] lessened Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829, 1834.
[133]
warranter] guarantee Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[136]
Stage-direction om. Edition 1.
[142]
murderers] murderers Editions 2, 3, 1829.
After 142 [Teresa looks at Monviedro with disgust and horror. Ordonio's appearance to be collected from what follows.
[143]
Mon. (to Valdez, and pointing at Ordonio). What, is he ill, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[144]
Valdez (angrily). You, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
pressed upon] started on Edition 1.
[146]
Ordonio (starting as in sudden agitation). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829. I?—I] I?—I Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
After 146 [Then recovering himself. Editions 1, 2, 3.
[147]
doted] doted Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
After 147 . . . follows soothing him. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[148]
Teresa (her eye following Ordonio). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[163]
do] do Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[164]
is] is Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[167]
was] was Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[183]
A scathing curse! [Then, as if recollecting herself, and with a timid look.
Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
After 184 Teresa (perceiving that Alhadra is conscious she has spoken imprudently). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[185]
my] my Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[188]
my] my Editions 2, 3, 1829.
[199]
Many and strange! Besides, (ironically) I, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[218-20]
In darkness I remained—counting the bell
Which haply told me, that the blessed Sun
Was rising on my garden.
Which haply told me, that the blessed Sun
Was rising on my garden.
Edition 1.
[248]
Alpujarras] Alpuxarras Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[249]
Alpujarras] Alpuxarras Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[254]
Alvar (interrupting her). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[256]
you] you Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
After 267 [They advance to the front of the Stage. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[268]
Alhadra (with scorn). He is, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
After 278 [Teresa looks round uneasily, but gradually becomes attentive as Alvar proceeds in the next speech. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[310]
Remorse] Remorse Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[313]
Alhadra (fiercely). But dreamt, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[314]
Alvar (his voice trembling, and in tones of deep distress). She would, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[331]
wildness] kindness Editions 1, 2, 3.
[338]
my] my Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[339]
Her] Her Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[348]
him] him Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[350]
know] know Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[352]
me] me Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.
[362]
husband] husband Editions 2, 3, 1829.
After 364 End of the Act First. Editions 1, 2, 3.
ACT II
Scene I
A wild and mountainous country. Ordonio and Isidore are discovered, supposed at a little distance from Isidore's house.
Ordonio. Here we may stop: your house distinct in view,
Yet we secured from listeners.
Yet we secured from listeners.
Isidore. Now indeed
[835] My house! and it looks cheerful as the clusters
Basking in sunshine on yon vine-clad rock,
That over-brows it! Patron! Friend! Preserver! 5
Thrice have you saved my life. Once in the battle
You gave it me: next rescued me from suicide
When for my follies I was made to wander,
With mouths to feed, and not a morsel for them:
Now but for you, a dungeon's slimy stones 10
Had been my bed and pillow.
[835] My house! and it looks cheerful as the clusters
Basking in sunshine on yon vine-clad rock,
That over-brows it! Patron! Friend! Preserver! 5
Thrice have you saved my life. Once in the battle
You gave it me: next rescued me from suicide
When for my follies I was made to wander,
With mouths to feed, and not a morsel for them:
Now but for you, a dungeon's slimy stones 10
Had been my bed and pillow.
Ordonio. Good Isidore!
Why this to me? It is enough, you know it.
Why this to me? It is enough, you know it.
Isidore. A common trick of gratitude, my lord,
Seeking to ease her own full heart——
Seeking to ease her own full heart——
Ordonio. Enough!
A debt repaid ceases to be a debt. 15
You have it in your power to serve me greatly.
A debt repaid ceases to be a debt. 15
You have it in your power to serve me greatly.
Isidore. And how, my lord? I pray you to name the thing.
I would climb up an ice-glazed precipice
To pluck a weed you fancied!
I would climb up an ice-glazed precipice
To pluck a weed you fancied!
Ordonio. Why—that—Lady—
Isidore. 'Tis now three years, my lord, since last I saw you: 20
Have you a son, my lord?
Have you a son, my lord?
Ordonio. O miserable— [Aside.
Isidore! you are a man, and know mankind.
I told you what I wished—now for the truth—
She loved the man you kill'd.
Isidore! you are a man, and know mankind.
I told you what I wished—now for the truth—
She loved the man you kill'd.
Isidore. You jest, my lord?
Ordonio. And till his death is proved she will not wed me. 25
Isidore. You sport with me, my lord?
Ordonio. Come, come! this foolery
Lives only in thy looks, thy heart disowns it!
Lives only in thy looks, thy heart disowns it!
Isidore. I can bear this, and any thing more grievous
From you, my lord—but how can I serve you here?
From you, my lord—but how can I serve you here?
Ordonio. Why, you can utter with a solemn gesture 30
Oracular sentences of deep no-meaning,
Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics—
Oracular sentences of deep no-meaning,
Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics—
Isidore. I am dull, my lord! I do not comprehend you.
Ordonio. In blunt terms, you can play the sorcerer.
She hath no faith in Holy Church, 'tis true: 35
[836] Her lover schooled her in some newer nonsense!
Yet still a tale of spirits works upon her.
She is a lone enthusiast, sensitive,
Shivers, and can not keep the tears in her eye:
And such do love the marvellous too well 40
Not to believe it. We will wind up her fancy
With a strange music, that she knows not of—
With fumes of frankincense, and mummery,
Then leave, as one sure token of his death,
That portrait, which from off the dead man's neck 45
I bade thee take, the trophy of thy conquest.
She hath no faith in Holy Church, 'tis true: 35
[836] Her lover schooled her in some newer nonsense!
Yet still a tale of spirits works upon her.
She is a lone enthusiast, sensitive,
Shivers, and can not keep the tears in her eye:
And such do love the marvellous too well 40
Not to believe it. We will wind up her fancy
With a strange music, that she knows not of—
With fumes of frankincense, and mummery,
Then leave, as one sure token of his death,
That portrait, which from off the dead man's neck 45
I bade thee take, the trophy of thy conquest.
Isidore. Will that be a sure sign?
Ordonio. Beyond suspicion.
Fondly caressing him, her favour'd lover,
(By some base spell he had bewitched her senses)
She whispered such dark fears of me forsooth, 50
As made this heart pour gall into my veins.
And as she coyly bound it round his neck
She made him promise silence; and now holds
The secret of the existence of this portrait
Known only to her lover and herself. 55
But I had traced her, stolen unnotic'd on them,
And unsuspected saw and heard the whole.
Fondly caressing him, her favour'd lover,
(By some base spell he had bewitched her senses)
She whispered such dark fears of me forsooth, 50
As made this heart pour gall into my veins.
And as she coyly bound it round his neck
She made him promise silence; and now holds
The secret of the existence of this portrait
Known only to her lover and herself. 55
But I had traced her, stolen unnotic'd on them,
And unsuspected saw and heard the whole.
Isidore. But now I should have cursed the man who told me
You could ask aught, my lord, and I refuse—
But this I can not do.
You could ask aught, my lord, and I refuse—
But this I can not do.
Ordonio. Where lies your scruple? 60
Isidore. Why—why, my lord!
You know you told me that the lady lov'd you,
Had loved you with incautious tenderness;
That if the young man, her betrothéd husband,
Returned, yourself, and she, and the honour of both 65
Must perish. Now though with no tenderer scruples
Than those which being native to the heart,
Than those, my lord, which merely being a man—
You know you told me that the lady lov'd you,
Had loved you with incautious tenderness;
That if the young man, her betrothéd husband,
Returned, yourself, and she, and the honour of both 65
Must perish. Now though with no tenderer scruples
Than those which being native to the heart,
Than those, my lord, which merely being a man—
Ordonio. This fellow is a Man—he killed for hire
One whom he knew not, yet has tender scruples! 70
[Then turning to Isidore.
[837] These doubts, these fears, thy whine, thy stammering—
Pish, fool! thou blunder'st through the book of guilt,
Spelling thy villainy.
One whom he knew not, yet has tender scruples! 70
[Then turning to Isidore.
[837] These doubts, these fears, thy whine, thy stammering—
Pish, fool! thou blunder'st through the book of guilt,
Spelling thy villainy.
Isidore. My lord—my lord,
I can bear much—yes, very much from you!
But there's a point where sufferance is meanness: 75
I am no villain—never kill'd for hire—
My gratitude——
I can bear much—yes, very much from you!
But there's a point where sufferance is meanness: 75
I am no villain—never kill'd for hire—
My gratitude——
Ordonio. O aye—your gratitude!
'Twas a well-sounding word—what have you done with it?
'Twas a well-sounding word—what have you done with it?
Isidore. Who proffers his past favours for my virtue—
Ordonio. Virtue——
Isidore. Tries to o'erreach me—is a very sharper, 80
And should not speak of gratitude, my lord.
I knew not 'twas your brother!
And should not speak of gratitude, my lord.
I knew not 'twas your brother!
Ordonio. And who told you?
Isidore. He himself told me.
Ordonio. Ha! you talk'd with him!
And those, the two Morescoes who were with you?
And those, the two Morescoes who were with you?
Isidore. Both fell in a night brawl at Malaga. 85
Ordonio (in a low voice). My brother—
Isidore. Yes, my lord, I could not tell you!
I thrust away the thought—it drove me wild.
But listen to me now—I pray you listen——
I thrust away the thought—it drove me wild.
But listen to me now—I pray you listen——
Ordonio. Villain! no more. I'll hear no more of it.
Isidore. My lord, it much imports your future safety 90
That you should hear it.
That you should hear it.
Ordonio (turning off from Isidore). Am not I a man!
'Tis as it should be! tut—the deed itself
Was idle, and these after-pangs still idler!
'Tis as it should be! tut—the deed itself
Was idle, and these after-pangs still idler!
Isidore. We met him in the very place you mentioned.
Hard by a grove of firs—
Hard by a grove of firs—
Ordonio. Enough—enough— 95
Isidore. He fought us valiantly, and wounded all;
In fine, compelled a parley.
In fine, compelled a parley.
Ordonio. Alvar! brother!
Isidore. He offered me his purse—
Ordonio. Yes?
[838]Isidore. Yes—I spurned it.—
He promised us I know not what—in vain!
Then with a look and voice that overawed me, 100
He said, What mean you, friends? My life is dear:
I have a brother and a promised wife,
Who make life dear to me—and if I fall,
That brother will roam earth and hell for vengeance.
There was a likeness in his face to yours; 105
I asked his brother's name: he said—Ordonio,
Son of Lord Valdez! I had well nigh fainted.
At length I said (if that indeed I said it,
And that no Spirit made my tongue its organ,)
That woman is dishonoured by that brother, 110
And he the man who sent us to destroy you.
He drove a thrust at me in rage. I told him
He wore her portrait round his neck. He look'd
As he had been made of the rock that propt his back—
Aye, just as you look now—only less ghastly! 115
At length recovering from his trance, he threw
His sword away, and bade us take his life,
It was not worth his keeping.
He promised us I know not what—in vain!
Then with a look and voice that overawed me, 100
He said, What mean you, friends? My life is dear:
I have a brother and a promised wife,
Who make life dear to me—and if I fall,
That brother will roam earth and hell for vengeance.
There was a likeness in his face to yours; 105
I asked his brother's name: he said—Ordonio,
Son of Lord Valdez! I had well nigh fainted.
At length I said (if that indeed I said it,
And that no Spirit made my tongue its organ,)
That woman is dishonoured by that brother, 110
And he the man who sent us to destroy you.
He drove a thrust at me in rage. I told him
He wore her portrait round his neck. He look'd
As he had been made of the rock that propt his back—
Aye, just as you look now—only less ghastly! 115
At length recovering from his trance, he threw
His sword away, and bade us take his life,
It was not worth his keeping.
Ordonio. And you kill'd him?
Oh blood hounds! may eternal wrath flame round you!
He was his Maker's Image undefac'd! 120
It seizes me—by Hell I will go on!
What—would'st thou stop, man? thy pale looks won't save thee!
Oh cold—cold—cold! shot through with icy cold!
Oh blood hounds! may eternal wrath flame round you!
He was his Maker's Image undefac'd! 120
It seizes me—by Hell I will go on!
What—would'st thou stop, man? thy pale looks won't save thee!
Oh cold—cold—cold! shot through with icy cold!
Isidore (aside). Were he alive he had returned ere now.
The consequence the same—dead through his plotting! 125
The consequence the same—dead through his plotting! 125
Ordonio. O this unutterable dying away—here—
This sickness of the heart!
What if I went
And liv'd in a hollow tomb, and fed on weeds?
Aye! that's the road to heaven! O fool! fool! fool!
What have I done but that which nature destined, 130
Or the blind elements stirred up within me?
If good were meant, why were we made these beings?
And if not meant—
This sickness of the heart!
What if I went
And liv'd in a hollow tomb, and fed on weeds?
Aye! that's the road to heaven! O fool! fool! fool!
What have I done but that which nature destined, 130
Or the blind elements stirred up within me?
If good were meant, why were we made these beings?
And if not meant—
[839]Isidore. You are disturbed, my lord!
Ordonio (starts). A gust of the soul! i'faith it overset me.
O 'twas all folly—all! idle as laughter! 135
Now, Isidore! I swear that thou shalt aid me.
O 'twas all folly—all! idle as laughter! 135
Now, Isidore! I swear that thou shalt aid me.
Isidore (in a low voice). I'll perish first!
Ordonio. What dost thou mutter of?
Isidore. Some of your servants know me, I am certain.
Ordonio. There's some sense in that scruple; but we'll mask you.
Isidore. They'll know my gait: but stay! last night I watched 140
A stranger near the ruin in the wood,
Who as it seemed was gathering herbs and wild flowers.
I had followed him at distance, seen him scale
Its western wall, and by an easier entrance
Stole after him unnoticed. There I marked, 145
That mid the chequer work of light and shade
With curious choice he plucked no other flowers,
But those on which the moonlight fell: and once
I heard him muttering o'er the plant. A wizard—
Some gaunt slave prowling here for dark employment. 150
A stranger near the ruin in the wood,
Who as it seemed was gathering herbs and wild flowers.
I had followed him at distance, seen him scale
Its western wall, and by an easier entrance
Stole after him unnoticed. There I marked, 145
That mid the chequer work of light and shade
With curious choice he plucked no other flowers,
But those on which the moonlight fell: and once
I heard him muttering o'er the plant. A wizard—
Some gaunt slave prowling here for dark employment. 150
Ordonio. Doubtless you question'd him?
Isidore. 'Twas my intention,
Having first traced him homeward to his haunt.
But lo! the stern Dominican, whose spies
Lurk every where, already (as it seemed)
Had given commission to his apt familiar 155
To seek and sound the Moor; who now returning,
Was by this trusty agent stopped midway.
I, dreading fresh suspicion if found near him
In that lone place, again concealed myself:
Yet within hearing. So the Moor was question'd, 160
And in your name, as lord of this domain,
Proudly he answered, 'Say to the Lord Ordonio,
He that can bring the dead to life again!'
Having first traced him homeward to his haunt.
But lo! the stern Dominican, whose spies
Lurk every where, already (as it seemed)
Had given commission to his apt familiar 155
To seek and sound the Moor; who now returning,
Was by this trusty agent stopped midway.
I, dreading fresh suspicion if found near him
In that lone place, again concealed myself:
Yet within hearing. So the Moor was question'd, 160
And in your name, as lord of this domain,
Proudly he answered, 'Say to the Lord Ordonio,
He that can bring the dead to life again!'
Ordonio. A strange reply!
Isidore. Aye, all of him is strange.
He called himself a Christian, yet he wears 165
The Moorish robes, as if he courted death.
He called himself a Christian, yet he wears 165
The Moorish robes, as if he courted death.
Ordonio. Where does this wizard live?
[840]Isidore (pointing to the distance). You see that brooklet?
Trace its course backward: through a narrow opening
It leads you to the place.
Trace its course backward: through a narrow opening
It leads you to the place.
Ordonio. How shall I know it?
Isidore. You cannot err. It is a small green dell 170
Built all around with high off-sloping hills,
And from its shape our peasants aptly call it
The Giant's Cradle. There's a lake in the midst,
And round its banks tall wood that branches over,
And makes a kind of faery forest grow 175
Down in the water. At the further end
A puny cataract falls on the lake;
And there, a curious sight! you see its shadow
For ever curling, like a wreath of smoke,
Up through the foliage of those faery trees. 180
His cot stands opposite. You cannot miss it.
Built all around with high off-sloping hills,
And from its shape our peasants aptly call it
The Giant's Cradle. There's a lake in the midst,
And round its banks tall wood that branches over,
And makes a kind of faery forest grow 175
Down in the water. At the further end
A puny cataract falls on the lake;
And there, a curious sight! you see its shadow
For ever curling, like a wreath of smoke,
Up through the foliage of those faery trees. 180
His cot stands opposite. You cannot miss it.
Ordonio (in retiring stops suddenly at the edge of the scene, and then turning round to Isidore). Ha!—Who lurks there! Have we been overheard?
There where the smooth high wall of slate-rock glitters——
There where the smooth high wall of slate-rock glitters——
Isidore. 'Neath those tall stones, which propping each the other,
Form a mock portal with their pointed arch? 185
Pardon my smiles! 'Tis a poor idiot boy,
Who sits in the sun, and twirls a bough about,
His weak eyes seeth'd in most unmeaning tears.
And so he sits, swaying his cone-like head,
And staring at his bough from morn to sun-set, 190
See-saws his voice in inarticulate noises.
Form a mock portal with their pointed arch? 185
Pardon my smiles! 'Tis a poor idiot boy,
Who sits in the sun, and twirls a bough about,
His weak eyes seeth'd in most unmeaning tears.
And so he sits, swaying his cone-like head,
And staring at his bough from morn to sun-set, 190
See-saws his voice in inarticulate noises.
Ordonio. 'Tis well, and now for this same wizard's lair.
Isidore. Some three strides up the hill, a mountain ash
Stretches its lower boughs and scarlet clusters
O'er the old thatch.
Stretches its lower boughs and scarlet clusters
O'er the old thatch.
Ordonio. I shall not fail to find it. 195
[Exeunt Ordonio and Isidore.