Before 144 stage direction ends at 'follows' Remorse.
Stage-direction (her eye, &c.) om. Remorse.
Till that] Until Remorse.
Stage-direction before 154 om. Remorse.
Ordonio (as they return to Valdez). Remorse.
Stage-direction om. Remorse.
do] do Remorse.
I hope, my lord, your merely human pity MS. III, Remorse.
Nay, nay . . . Ferdinand om. Remorse.
was] was Remorse.
Myself I'll sift him Remorse.
[Francesco's speech 'My lord you have it' is thus expanded]:—
And your late merits in this holy warfare
Would authorize an ampler trust—you have it.
Remorse.
Stage-direction om. Remorse.
Attributed to Valdez in Remorse.
I'll loiter yet awhile t'enjoy the sea breeze. Remorse.
The stage-direction, Alhadra had been, &c., was interpolated by S. T. C. in MS. III, and 'distrustful' is written 'mistrustful'. It is omitted in Remorse.
The line was originally written:—
and in this form it stands in the Poole MS. MSS. II, III have the line as amended, but have also this stage-direction '(perceiving that Alhadra is conscious she has spoken imprudently)'; and MS. II has the word me underlined.
Remorse.
stalk'd] walk'd Remorse.
on] by Remorse.
Interpolated by S. T. C.
Held in their custody my babes and husband.
MS. III.
foul officers] familiars Remorse.
ragged] rugged Remorse.
'(ironically)' only in MS. II.
And they do] And Christians Remorse.
Solely my complexion] I was a Moresco Remorse.
There] Where Remorse.
Slow opening at the appointed hour, disclosed
One human countenance, the lamp's red flame
Cowered as it entered, and at once sank down
Remorse.
the dull bell counting Remorse.
blessed] all-cheering. Remorse.
my] our Remorse.
dreams] slumbers Remorse.
God] Heaven Remorse.
deliver'd] released Corr. in MS. III, Remorse.
fit] trance Remorse.
Fearless in act, but feeble in endurance Corr. in MS. III, Remorse.
MS. III erased: om. Remorse.
Between 249-50
Know you that man?
Corr. in MS. III.
Between 250 and 263
But doubt not he is some Moresco chieftain,
Who hides himself among the Alpujarras.
So near this seat?
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.
Monviedro, of known hatred to our race—
Remorse.
And spurns all commune with the Moorish chieftain,
Baffles conjecture—
Corr. in MS. III.
Before stage-direction affixed to 259.
Of any Christian Captive—if he knows—
Corr. in MS. III.
Philip the Second had forbidden under pain of death the Moorish Robes MS. II: Phillip (sic) the Second had prohibited under pain of death all the Moorish customs and garments MS. III.
the creature] a brother Corr. in MS. III.
Albert (retiring)] advancing as if to pass them Corr. in MS. III. Stage-direction om. Remorse.
Stage-direction om. Remorse.
Stage-direction om. Remorse.
om. Remorse.
Stage-direction They advance . . . followed by Alvar Corr. in MS. III: om. Remorse.
Alhadra (with bitter scorn). Corr. in MS. III.
om. Remorse.
Prefixed to 279. Alhadra walks away to the back of the stage, to the part where Alvar had first placed himself, stoops in the act of taking up a small Picture, looks at it and in dumb show appears as talking to herself. Corr. in MS. III.
Nor face, nor stature squares with his description.
Caught my eye strangely, and as I disturb'd him
He hid it hastily within his sash,
Yet when he started up (if my sight err'd not)
It slipt unnotic'd by him on the Sand.
Corr. in MS. III.
She deems me dead yet wears no mourning garments Remorse.
om. Remorse.
gentle maid] noble dame Remorse.
om. Remorse.
Between 285 and 288
They prophesy—
In its effects, and to the guilty spirit,
The ever frowning [guilty MS. III] Present is its image.
What sudden spell o'er-masters me?
Why seeks he me, shunning the Moorish woman.
Corr. in MS. III: Remorse.
Polluted] Dishonour'd MS. III, Remorse. [In MS. III S. T. C. substituted 'Polluted' for 'Dishonoured.'
And murderers were suborned against my life
Remorse.
Affixed to 296 During this speech Alhadra returns, and unobserved by Alvar and Teresa scans the picture, and in dumb show compares it with the countenance of Alvar. Then conceals it in her robe. MS. III.
Stage-direction om. Remorse.
threaddy] thready Remorse.
him] them Remorse.
Stage-direction om. Remorse.
sins] guilt Remorse.
all is] all as MS. III, Remorse.
MS. III erased.
foll.
Till I can pierce the mystery of the slander—
Form, Look, Features,—the scar below the Temple
All, all are Isidore's—and the whole Picture— (then to Alvar.)
On matter of concerning Import . . .
. . . I would discourse with you:
Thou hast ta'en up thy sojourn in the Dell,
Where Zagri liv'd—who dar'd avow the Prophet,
And died like one of the Faithful—there expect me.
Addition on margin of MS. III.
om. Remorse.
While] Whilst Remorse.
Interpolated by S. T. C. MS. III.
Could she walk here, if she had been a traitress Remorse.
ACT THE SECOND
Scene the First.—A wild and mountainous country. Osorio and Ferdinand are discovered at a little distance from a house, which stands under the brow of a slate rock, the rock covered with vines.
Ferdinand and Osorio.
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 5
Had pillow'd my snapt joints.
Why this to me? It is enough you know it.
Seeking to ease her own full heart.
A debt repay'd ceases to be a debt. 10
You have it in your power to serve me greatly.
I would climb up an ice-glaz'd precipice
To pluck a weed you fancied.
Have you a son, my lord?
Ferdinand! you are a man, and know this world.
[536] I told you what I wish'd—now for the truth!
She lov'd the man you kill'd!
Lives only in thy looks—thy heart disowns it.
From you, my lord!—but how can I serve you here?
Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics.
She has no faith in Holy Church, 'tis true.
Her lover school'd her in some newer nonsense: 30
Yet still a tale of spirits works on her.
She is a lone enthusiast, sensitive,
Shivers, and cannot keep the tears in her eye.
Such ones do love the marvellous too well
Not to believe it. We will wind her up 35
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
I bade thee take, the trophy of thy conquest. 40
You could ask aught, my lord! and I refuse.
But this I cannot do.
I baited, sir, my hook with a painted mitre, 45
And now I play with him at the end of the line.
Well—and what next?
You know you told me that the lady loved you,
Had loved you with incautious tenderness.
That if the young man, her betrothéd husband, 50
Return'd, yourself, and she, and an unborn babe,
Must perish. Now, my lord! to be a man!
One whom he knew not—yet has tender scruples. [Then turning to Ferdinand.
Thy hums and ha's, thy whine and stammering. 55
Pish—fool! thou blunder'st through the devil's book,
Spelling thy villany!
I can bear much, yes, very much from you.
But there's a point where sufferance is meanness!
I am no villain, never kill'd for hire. 60
My gratitude——
'Twas a well-sounding word—what have you done with it?
Tries to o'erreach me, is a very sharper,
[538] And should not speak of gratitude, my lord! 65
I knew not 'twas your brother!
And those, the two Morescoes, that went with you?
I thrust away the thought, it drove me wild.
But listen to me now. I pray you, listen!
That you should hear it.
'Tis as it should be! Tut—the deed itself
Was idle—and these after-pangs still idler!
Hard by a grove of firs.
In fine, compell'd a parley!
He promis'd us I know not what—in vain!
Then with a look and voice which overaw'd me,
He said—What mean you, friends? My life is dear. 85
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.
I ask'd his brother's name; he said, Osorio, 90
Son of Lord Velez! I had well-nigh fainted!
At length I said (if that indeed I said it,
And that no spirit made my tongue his organ),
That woman is now pregnant by that brother,
And he the man who sent us to destroy you, 95
[539] 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 propp'd him back;
Ay, just as you look now—only less ghastly!
At last recovering from his trance, he threw 100
His sword away, and bade us take his life—
It was not worth his keeping.
O blood-hounds! may eternal wrath flame round you!
He was the image of the Deity. [A pause.
It seizes me—by Hell! I will go on! 105
What? would'st thou stop, man? thy pale looks won't save thee! [Then suddenly pressing his forehead.
Oh! cold, cold, cold—shot thro' with icy cold!
The consequence the same, dead thro' his plotting!
This sickness of the heart! [A pause.
What if I went
And liv'd in a hollow tomb, and fed on weeds?
Ay! that's the road to heaven! O fool! fool! fool! [A pause.
What have I done but that which nature destin'd
Or the blind elements stirr'd up within me? 115
If good were meant, why were we made these beings?
And if not meant——
[Osorio starts, looks at him wildly, then, after a pause, during which his features are forced into a smile.
O 'twas all folly—all! idle as laughter!
Now, Ferdinand, I swear that thou shalt aid me. 120
That I must slink away from wickedness
Like a cow'd dog!
A stranger that lives nigh, still picking weeds,
Now in the swamp, now on the walls of the ruin,
Now clamb'ring, like a runaway lunatic,
Up to the summit of our highest mount. 130
I have watch'd him at it morning-tide and noon,
Once in the moonlight. Then I stood so near,
I heard him mutt'ring o'er the plant. A wizard!
Some gaunt slave, prowling out for dark employments.
Only Francesco bade an officer
Speak in your name, as lord of this domain.
So he was question'd, who and what he was.
This was his answer: Say to the Lord Osorio,
'He that can bring the dead to life again.' 140
[541] He call'd himself a Christian—yet he wears
The Moorish robe, as if he courted death.
Trace its course backward thro' a narrow opening 145
It leads you to the place.
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, 150
And round its banks tall wood, that branches over
And makes a kind of faery forest grow
Down in the water. At the further end
A puny cataract falls on the lake;
And there (a curious sight) you see its shadow 155
For ever curling, like a wreath of smoke,
Up through the foliage of those faery trees.
His cot stands opposite—you cannot miss it.
[542]Some three yards up the hill a mountain ash
Stretches its lower boughs and scarlet clusters 160
[543] O'er the new thatch.
[Exit Osorio. Ferdinand goes into his house.
Scene changes.
The inside of a cottage, around which flowers and plants of various kinds are seen.
Albert and Maurice.