Your wives and children are already stow'd;
I left them prattling of the Barbary coast,
Of Mosks, and minarets, and golden crescents. 65
Each had her separate dream; but all were gay,
Dancing, in thought, to finger-beaten timbrels!
[Enter Maurice and the rest of the Morescoes dragging in Francesco.
When first we dragg'd him forth! [Then turning to the band.
Here! in her presence—— 70
[He advances with his sword as about to kill him. Maurice leaps in and stands with his drawn sword between Francesco and the Morescoes.
A man that never wore a sword? A priest?
It is unsoldierly! I say, ye shall not!
But know not yet what freedom means; how holy
And just a thing it is! He's a fallen foe!
Come, come, forgive him!
I am sure he did!
Was given by him, who framed the soul of man.
This the best proof—it fits the soul of man!
Ambition, glory, thirst of enterprize,
The deep and stubborn purpose of revenge,
With all the boiling revelries of pleasure— 90
These grow in the heart, yea, intertwine their roots
With its minutest fibres! And that Being
Who made us, laughs to scorn the lying faith,
Whose puny precepts, like a wall of sand,
Would stem the full tide of predestined Nature! 95
Now as God liveth, who hath suffer'd him
To make my children orphans, none shall die
Till I have seen his blood!
Off with him to the vessel! [A part of the Morescoes hurry him off.
Still thirsts for blood, leaps on the hunter's spear
With prodigal courage. 'Tis not so with man.
Cowards are cruel, and the cruel cowards.
And move in silence to the house of Velez. [Exeunt.
Scene.—A Dungeon.
Albert (alone) rises slowly from a bed of reeds.
This is the process of our love and wisdom
To each poor brother who offends against us—
Most innocent, perhaps—and what if guilty? 110
Is this the only cure? Merciful God!
Each pore and natural outlet shrivell'd up
By ignorance and parching poverty,
His energies roll back upon his heart,
And stagnate and corrupt till changed to poison, 115
[587] They break out on him like a loathsome plague-spot!
Then we call in our pamper'd mountebanks—
And this is their best cure! uncomforted
And friendless solitude, groaning and tears,
And savage faces at the clanking hour 120
Seen thro' the steaming vapours of his dungeon
By the lamp's dismal twilight! So he lies
Circled with evil, till his very soul
Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deform'd
By sights of ever more deformity! 125
With other ministrations thou, O Nature!
Healest thy wandering and distemper'd child:
Thou pourest on him thy soft influences,
Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets,
Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters, 130
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 135
By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
[A noise at the dungeon-door. It opens, and Osorio enters with a goblet in his hand.
I pour'd forth a libation to old Pluto;
[589] And as I brimm'd the bowl, I thought of thee!
That pang, which I must give thee, son of Velez!
Hast trick'd me foully; yet I hate thee not!
Why should I hate thee? This same world of ours—
It is a puddle in a storm of rain, 145
And we the air-bladders, that course up and down,
And joust and tilt in merry tournament,
And when one bubble runs foul of another, [Waving his hand at Albert.
The lesser must needs break!
There is a frightful glitter in thine eye, 150
[590] Which doth betray thee. Crazy-conscienc'd man,
This is the gaiety of drunken anguish,
Which fain would scoff away the pang of guilt,
And quell each human feeling!
The death of a man—the breaking of a bubble. 155
'Tis true, I cannot sob for such misfortunes!
But faintness, cold, and hunger—curses on me
If willingly I e'er inflicted them!
Come, share the beverage—this chill place demands it.
Friendship and wine! [Osorio proffers him the goblet.
Which moves this way and that its hundred legs,
Were it a toy of mere mechanic craft,
It were an infinitely curious thing!
But it has life, Osorio! life and thought;
And by the power of its miraculous will 165
Wields all the complex movements of its frame
Unerringly, to pleasurable ends!
Saw I that insect on this goblet's brink,
I would remove it with an eager terror.
Shall we throw dice, which of us two shall drink it?
For one of us must die!
[591] Now I am thy master! Villain, thou shalt drink it,
Or die a bitterer death.
Hast thou found out to satisfy thy fears,
And drug them to unnatural sleep? [Albert takes the goblet, and with a sigh throws it on the ground.
My master! 180
What then art thou? For shame, put up thy sword!
What boots a weapon in a wither'd arm?
I fix mine eye upon thee, and thou tremblest!
I speak—and fear and wonder crush thy rage, 185
And turn it to a motionless distraction!
Thou blind self-worshipper! thy pride, thy cunning,
Thy faith in universal villainy,
Thy shallow sophisms, thy pretended scorn
For all thy human brethren—out upon them! 190
What have they done for thee? Have they given thee peace?
Cured thee of starting in thy sleep? or made
The darkness pleasant, when thou wakest at midnight?
Art happy when alone? can'st walk by thyself
With even step, and quiet cheerfulness? 195
Yet, yet thou mayst be saved.
Could I call up one pang of true remorse!
His fatherless little ones! Remorse! remorse!
Where gott'st thou that fool's word? Curse on remorse! 200
Can it give up the dead, or recompact
A mangled body—mangled, dash'd to atoms!
Not all the blessings of an host of angels
Can blow away a desolate widow's curse;
And tho' thou spill thy heart's blood for atonement, 205
It will not weigh against an orphan's tear.
[592]Even thee! and yet, I pray thee, speak it out.
Still Albert! Albert! Howl it in mine ear!
Heap it, like coals of fire, upon my heart! 210
And shoot it hissing through my brain!
That day, when thou didst leap from off the rock
Into the waves, and grasp'd thy sinking brother,
And bore him to the strand, then, son of Velez!
How sweet and musical the name of Albert! 215
Then, then, Osorio! he was dear to thee,
And thou wert dear to him. Heaven only knows
How very dear thou wert! Why didst thou hate him?
O Heaven! how he would fall upon thy neck,
And weep forgiveness!
Methinks I know thee! Ha!—my brain turns wild
At its own dreams—off—off, fantastic shadow!
I fear thee, man! [He starts, and stands in the attitude of listening.
And is this too my madness? 225
Seeking to cheat the echo.
This nook shall hide me.
[Maria enters from a plank which slips to and fro.
The customs and the terrors of a woman,
To work out thy escape. Stranger! begone, 230
And only tell me what thou know'st of Albert.
[Albert takes her portrait from his neck, and gives it her with unutterable tenderness.
This is my face—and thou—ha! who art thou?
Nay, I will call thee Albert!
[She falls upon his neck. Osorio leaps out from the nook with frantic wildness, and rushes towards Albert with his sword. Maria gapes at him, as one helpless with terror, then leaves Albert, and flings herself upon Osorio, arresting his arm.
Hide Albert from thee? Toil and painful wounds,
And long imprisonment in unwholesome dungeons,
Have marr'd perhaps all trace and lineament
Of what I was! But chiefly, chiefly, brother!
My anguish for thy guilt. Spotless Maria, 240
I thought thee guilty too! Osorio, brother!
Nay, nay, thou shalt embrace me!
Touch not pollution, Albert!—I will die!
[He attempts to fall on his sword. Albert and Maria struggle with him.
Live, live, Osorio!
Could recompose this miserable heart,
Or make it capable of one brief joy.
Live! live!—why yes! 'Twere well to live with you—
[594] For is it fit a villain should be proud? 250
My brother! I will kneel to you, my brother! [Throws himself at Albert's feet.
Forgive me, Albert!—Curse me with forgiveness!
Now is the time for greatness. Think that Heaven——
Thou said'st thou didst not know him. That is he!
He comes upon me!
Will no one hear these stifled groans, and wake me? 260
He would have died to save me, and I kill'd him—
A husband and a father!
Drinks up his spirit!
Prepare my punishment in the obscure world.
I will not bear to live—to live! O agony! 265
And be myself alone, my own sore torment!
[The doors of the dungeon are burst open with a crash. Alhadra, Maurice, and the band of Morescoes enter.
[The Moors press round.
[A scuffle, during which they disarm Maurice.
Woman, my life is thine! to thee I give it. 270
Off! he that touches me with his hand of flesh,
I'll rend his limbs asunder! I have strength
With this bare arm to scatter you like ashes!
Demon! thou shouldst have sent thy dogs of hell
To lap their blood. Then, then, I might have harden'd
My soul in misery, and have had comfort.
I would have stood far off, quiet tho' dark,
And bade the race of men raise up a mourning 280
For the deep horror of a desolation
Too great to be one soul's particular lot!
Brother of Zagri! let me lean upon thee. [Struggling to suppress her anguish.
The time is not yet come for woman's anguish—
I have not seen his blood. Within an hour 285
Those little ones will crowd around and ask me,
Where is our father? [Looks at Osorio.
I shall curse thee then!
Wert thou in heaven, my curse would pluck thee thence!
Be merciful! [Maria kneels to her. Alhadra regards her face wistfully.
'Twere merciful to kill thee! Yet I will not.
And for thy sake none of this house shall perish,
[596] Save only he.
[The Moors press on.
They must not murder him!
An enviable lot to waste away
With inward wounds, and like the spirit of chaos
To wander on disquietly thro' the earth,
Cursing all lovely things? to let him live—
It were a deep revenge!
[Naomi advances with the sword towards Osorio.
Behold the ugliness of death?
[The Moors gather round him in a crowd, and pass off the stage.
That still extremes bring their own cure. That point
In misery which makes the oppressed man
Regardless of his own life, makes him too 310
Lord of the oppressor's! Knew I an hundred men
Despairing, but not palsied by despair,
This arm should shake the kingdoms of this world;
[597] The deep foundations of iniquity
Should sink away, earth groaning from beneath them; 315
The strong holds of the cruel men should fall,
Their temples and their mountainous towers should fall;
Till desolation seem'd a beautiful thing,
And all that were and had the spirit of life
Sang a new song to him who had gone forth 320
Conquering and still to conquer!
THE END[597:1]
FOOTNOTES:
[596:1] In MS. II 'worm' has the place of 'slave', which is the word in MS. I.
[597:1] On a blank page of MS. III some one, probably Bowles, has written:—'Upon the whole a very masterly production, and with judicious contractments might be rendered an interesting Drama on the stage.'
LINENOTES:
om. Remorse.
The hanging] Yon pendent Corr. in MS. III.
| hanging] |
|
pendent flowerlike Corr. in MS. III. |
that] this Corr. in MS. III.
Affixed to 57] Naomi, the second in command to Isidore, enters in haste. MS. III erased.
After 61 stage-direction erased MS. III.
Moorish Seaman] Naomi Corr. in MS. III.
Erased MS. III.
foll.] vide ante, 'The Dungeon,' p. 185.
steaming] steam and Corr. in MS. III, Remorse.
ever more] evermore Remorse.
After 136
In that dark angle, the sole resting-place!
But the self-approving mind is its own light,
And Life's best warmth still radiates from the heart
Where love sits brooding, and an honest purpose.
Enter Teresa. [Retires out of sight.
Corr. in MS. III, Remorse.
Stage-direction affixed to 136 and 136-9 erased in MS. III: om. Remorse.
Between 136 and 137:
Enter Teresa with a taper.
Yet when I hear it not I seem to lose
The substance of my being—my strongest grasp
Sends inwards but weak witness that I am.
I seek to cheat the echo.—How the half sounds
Blend with this strangled light! Is he not here— [Looking round.
O for one human face here—but to see
One human face here to sustain me.—Courage!
It is but my own fear! The life within me,
It sinks and wavers like this cone of flame,
Beyond which I scarce dare look onward! Oh!
If I faint? If this inhuman den should be
At once my death-bed and my burial vault? [Faintly screams as Alvar emerges from the recess.
Shall I reveal myself? The sudden shock
Of rapture will blow out this spark of life,
And joy complete what terror has begun.
O ye impetuous beatings here, be still!
Teresa, best beloved! pale, pale, and cold!
Her pulse doth flutter! Teresa! my Teresa!
I hear that voice! and wake and try—and try—
To hear it waking! but I never could—
And 'tis so now—even so! Well! he is dead—
Murdered perhaps! And I am faint, and feel
As if it were no painful thing to die!
Beloved woman! 'Twas a low imposture
Framed by a guilty wretch.
And dost thou now repent? Poor troubled man,
I do forgive thee, and may Heaven forgive thee!
His spirit ever at the throne of God
Asks mercy for thee: prays for mercy for thee,
With tears in Heaven!
Be calm! be calm, sweet maid!
O 'tis lost again!
This dull confused pain— [A pause.
Mysterious man!
Methinks I can not fear thee: for thine eye
Doth swim with love and pity—Well! Ordonio—
Oh my foreboding heart! And he suborned thee,
And thou didst spare his life? Blessings shower on thee,
As many as the drops twice counted o'er
In the fond faithful heart of his Teresa!
Exists but in the stain upon his face.
That picture——
It told but half the truth. O let this portrait
Tell all—that Alvar lives—that he is here!
Thy much deceived but ever faithful Alvar. [Takes her portrait from his neck, and gives it her.
Nay, I will call thee, Alvar! [She falls on his neck.
But hark! a sound as of removing bars
At the dungeon's outer door. A brief, brief while
Conceal thyself, my love! It is Ordonio.
For the honour of our race, for our dear father;
O for himself too (he is still my brother)
Let me recall him to his nobler nature,
That he may wake as from a dream of murder!
O let me reconcile him to himself,
Open the sacred source of penitent tears,
And be once more his own beloved Alvar.
With that obdurate man.
But a brief while retire into the darkness:
O that my joy could spread its sunshine round thee!
Alvar! my Alvar! am I sure I hold thee?
Is it no dream? thee in my arms, my Alvar! [Exit.
[A noise at the dungeon door. It opens, and Ordonio enters, with a goblet in his hand.
Remorse.