Maurice. How your hand trembles, Albert! Speak! what wish you?
Albert. To fall upon his neck and weep in anguish!
Osorio (returning). All very curious! from a ruin'd abbey
Pluck'd in the moonlight. There's a strange power in weeds 210
When a few odd prayers have been mutter'd o'er them.
Then they work miracles! I warrant you,
There's not a leaf, but underneath it lurks
Some serviceable imp. There's one of you,
Who sent me a strange message.
Osorio. I will speak with you, and by yourself.
[Exit Maurice.
Osorio. 'He that can bring the dead to life again.'
Such was your message, Sir! You are no dullard,
But one that strips the outward rind of things!
Albert. 'Tis fabled there are fruits with tempting rinds 220
That are all dust and rottenness within.
Would'st thou I should strip such?
Osorio. Thou quibbling fool,
What dost thou mean? Think'st thou I journey'd hither
To sport with thee?
Albert. No, no! my lord! to sport
[546]
Best fits the gaiety of innocence! 225
Osorio (draws back as if stung and embarrassed, then folding his arms). O what a thing is Man! the wisest heart
A fool—a fool, that laughs at its own folly,
Yet still a fool! [Looks round the cottage.
It strikes me you are poor!
Albert. What follows thence?
Osorio. That you would fain be richer.
Besides, you do not love the rack, perhaps, 230
Nor a black dungeon, nor a fire of faggots.
The Inquisition—hey? You understand me,
And you are poor. Now I have wealth and power,
Can quench the flames, and cure your poverty.
And for this service, all I ask you is 235
That you should serve me—once—for a few hours.
Albert (solemnly). Thou art the son of Velez! Would to Heaven
That I could truly and for ever serve thee!
Osorio. The canting scoundrel softens. [Aside.
You are my friend!
'He that can bring the dead to life again.' 240
Nay, no defence to me. The holy brethren
Believe these calumnies. I know thee better.
[Then with great bitterness.
Thou art a man, and as a man I'll trust thee!
Albert. Alas, this hollow mirth! Declare your business!
Osorio. I love a lady, and she would love me 245
But for an idle and fantastic scruple.
Have you no servants round the house? no listeners?
[Osorio steps to the door.
Albert. What! faithless too? false to his angel wife?
To such a wife? Well might'st thou look so wan,
Ill-starr'd Maria! Wretch! my softer soul 250
Is pass'd away! and I will probe his conscience.
[547]Osorio (returned). In truth this lady loved another man,
But he has perish'd.
Albert. What? you kill'd him? hey?
Osorio. I'll dash thee to the earth, if thou but think'st it,
Thou slave! thou galley-slave! thou mountebank! 255
I leave thee to the hangman!
Albert. Fare you well!
I pity you, Osorio! even to anguish!
[Albert retires off the stage.
Osorio (recovering himself). 'Twas ideotcy! I'll tie myself to an aspen,
And wear a Fool's Cap. Ho! [Calling after Albert.
Albert (returning). Be brief, what wish you?
Osorio. You are deep at bartering—you charge yourself 260
At a round sum. Come, come, I spake unwisely.
Albert. I listen to you.
Osorio. In a sudden tempest
Did Albert perish—he, I mean, the lover—
The fellow——
Albert. Nay, speak out, 'twill ease your heart
To call him villain! Why stand'st thou aghast? 265
Men think it natural to hate their rivals!
Osorio (hesitating and half doubting whether he should proceed). Now till she knows him dead she will not wed me!
Albert (with eager vehemence). Are you not wedded, then? Merciful God!
Not wedded to Maria?
Osorio. Why, what ails thee?
Art mad or drunk? Why look'st thou upward so? 270
Dost pray to Lucifer, prince of the air?
[548]Albert. Proceed. I shall be silent.
[Albert sits, and leaning on the table hides his face.
Osorio. To Maria!
Politic wizard! ere you sent that message,
You had conn'd your lesson, made yourself proficient
In all my fortunes! Hah! you prophesied 275
A golden crop!—well, you have not mistaken—
Be faithful to me, and I'll pay thee nobly.
Albert (lifting up his head). Well—and this lady!
Osorio. If we could make her certain of his death,
She needs must wed me. Ere her lover left her, 280
She tied a little portrait round his neck
Entreating him to wear it.
Albert (sighing). Yes! he did so!
Osorio. Why, no! he was afraid of accidents,
Of robberies and shipwrecks, and the like.
In secrecy he gave it me to keep 285
Till his return.
Albert. What, he was your friend then?
Osorio (wounded and embarrassed). I was his friend. [A pause.
Now that he gave it me
This lady knows not. You are a mighty wizard—
Can call this dead man up—he will not come— 290
He is in heaven then!—there you have no influence—
Still there are tokens; and your imps may bring you
Something he wore about him when he died.
And when the smoke of the incense on the altar
Is pass'd, your spirits will have left this picture. 295
What say you now?
Albert (after a long pause). Osorio, I will do it.
Osorio. Delays are dangerous. It shall be to-morrow
In the early evening. Ask for the Lord Velez.
I will prepare him. Music, too, and incense,
All shall be ready. Here is this same picture— 300
And here what you will value more, a purse.
Before the dusk——
Albert. I will not fail to meet you.
[549]Osorio. Till next we meet, farewell!
Albert (alone, gazes passionately at the portrait). And I did curse thee?
At midnight? on my knees? And I believed
Thee perjured, thee polluted, thee a murderess? 305
O blind and credulous fool! O guilt of folly!
Should not thy inarticulate fondnesses,
Thy infant loves—should not thy maiden vows,
Have come upon my heart? And this sweet image
Tied round my neck with many a chaste endearment 310
And thrilling hands, that made me weep and tremble.
Ah, coward dupe! to yield it to the miscreant
Who spake pollutions of thee!
I am unworthy of thy love, Maria!
Of that unearthly smile upon those lips, 315
Which ever smil'd on me! Yet do not scorn me.
I lisp'd thy name ere I had learnt my mother's!
Enter Maurice.
Albert. Maurice! that picture, which I painted for thee,
Of my assassination.
Maurice. I'll go fetch it.
Albert. Haste! for I yearn to tell thee what has pass'd. 320
[Maurice goes out.
Albert (gazing at the portrait). Dear image! rescued from a traitor's keeping,
I will not now prophane thee, holy image!
To a dark trick! That worst bad man shall find
A picture which shall wake the hell within him,
And rouse a fiery whirlwind in his conscience! 325
END OF ACT THE SECOND.
LINENOTES:
Before 1
A wild and mountainous Country. Ordonio and Isidore are discovered,
supposed at a little distance from Isidore's house.
Ord. Here we may stop: your house distinct in view,
Yet we secured from listeners.
Isid. Now indeed
My house! and it looks cheerful as the clusters
Basking in sunshine on yon vine-clad rock
That overbrows it! Patron! Friend! Preserver!
Thrice have you sav'd my life.
Remorse.
[6] Had been my bed and pillow Remorse.
[12] And how, my Lord, I pray you to name Remorse.
[14] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[17] this world] mankind Remorse.
[19] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
Between 24 and 26
Why you can utter with a solemn gesture
Oracular sentences of deep no-meaning
Remorse.
[27-8] The words in square brackets are interpolated in MS. I.
They are in their place, as here, in MSS. II, III, and in Remorse.
[34-5]
And such do love the marvellous too well
Not to believe it. We will wind up her fancy
Remorse.
Between 40 and 41
Isid. Will that be a sure sign?
Ord. Beyond suspicion.
Fondly caressing him, her favour'd lover,
(By some base spell he had bewitched her senses.)
She whisper'd such dark fears of me forsooth,
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.
But I had traced her, stolen unnotic'd on them,
And unsuspected saw and heard the whole.
Remorse.
[41] Isid. But now, &c. Remorse.
[47] Isidore. Why—why, my lord! Remorse.
Between 50 and 53
Return'd, yourself, and she, and the honour of both
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—
Remorse.
Stage-direction before 53 om. Remorse.
[55-6]
These doubts, these fears, thy whine, thy stammering—
Pish, fool! thou blund'rest through the book of guilt
Remorse.
After 63 Ord. Virtue—Remorse.
[64] Isid. Tries to o'erreach me, &c. Remorse.
[66] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[68] And those, the two Morescoes who were with you?
Remorse.
[75] Am not I a man? Remorse.
[81] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[84] which] that Remorse.
[94] That woman is dishonoured Remorse.
[100] last] length Remorse.
[103] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[104] He was his Maker's image undefac'd Remorse.
[106] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[111] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[113] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[117] Isidore. You are disturb'd, my lord Remorse.
After 117 Ord. (starts). A gust, &c. Remorse.
[121-3] Shame . . . dog om. Remorse.
Between 125 and 140.
Isidore. They'll know my gait: but stay! last night I watched
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,
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.
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 everywhere, already (as it seemed)
Had given commission to his apt familiar
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,
And in your name, as lord of this domain,
Proudly he answered, 'Say to the Lord Ordonio,
Remorse.
[143] robe] robes Remorse.
[144] Stage-direction, a] the Remorse.
[147] You cannot err. It is a small green dell Remorse.
Between 158 and 205:
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——
Isidore. 'Neath those tall stones, which propping each the other,
Form a mock portal with their pointed arch?
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,
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.
Ordonio. I shall not fail to find it.
[Exeunt Ordonio and Isidore.
Scene II.
The inside of a Cottage, around which flowers and plants of various
kinds are seen. Discovers Alvar, Zulimez and Alhadra, as on the point of
leaving.
Alhadra (addressing Alvar). Farewell then! and though many thoughts perplex me,
Aught evil or ignoble never can I
Suspect of thee! If what thou seem'st thou art,
The oppressed brethren of thy blood have need
Of such a leader.
Alvar. Nobly minded woman!
Long time against oppression have I fought,
And for the native liberty of faith
Have bled and suffered bonds. Of this be certain:
Time, as he courses onward, still unrolls
The volume of concealment. In the future,
As in the optician's glassy cylinder,
The indistinguishable blots and colours
Of the dim past collect and shape themselves,
Upstarting in their own completed image
To scare or to reward.
I sought the guilty,
And what I sought I found: but ere the spear
Flew from my hand, there rose an angel form
Betwixt me and my aim. With baffled purpose
To the Avenger I leave Vengeance, and depart!
Whate'er betide, if aught my arm may aid,
Or power protect, my word is pledged to thee:
For many are thy wrongs, and thy soul noble.
Once more, farewell. [Exit Alhadra.
Yes, to the Belgic states
We will return. These robes, this stained complexion,
Akin to falsehood, weigh upon my spirit.
Whate'er befall us, the heroic Maurice
Will grant us an asylum, in remembrance
Of our past services.
Zulimez. And all the wealth, power, influence which is yours,
You let a murderer hold?
Alvar. O faithful Zulimez!
That my return involved Ordonio's death,
I trust, would give me an unmingled pang,
Yet bearable:—but when I see my father
Strewing his scant grey hairs, e'en on the ground,
Which soon must be his grave, and my Teresa—
Her husband proved a murderer, and her infants
His infants—poor Teresa!—all would perish,
All perish—all; and I (nay bear with me)
Could not survive the complicated ruin!
Zulimez. Nay now! I have distress'd you—you well know,
I ne'er will quit your fortunes. True, 'tis tiresome:
You are a painter, one of many fancies!
You can call up past deeds, and make them live
On the blank canvass! and each little herb,
That grows on mountain bleak, or tangled forest,
You have learnt to name—
Hark! heard you not some footsteps?
Alvar. What if it were my brother coming onwards?
I sent a most mysterious message to him.
Enter Ordonio.
Alvar. It is he!
Ordonio (to himself as he enters). If I distinguished right her gait and stature,
It was the Moorish woman, Isidore's wife,
That passed me as I entered. A lit taper,
In the night air, doth not more naturally
Attract the night flies round it, than a conjuror
Draws round him the whole female neighbourhood.
[Addressing Alvar.
You know my name, I guess, if not my person.
Remorse.
[For lines 31-46 of Remorse, Act II, Scene II, vide supra Osorio,
Act II, Scene II, lines 169-84.]
Stage-direction preceding 162:
Albert and an old servant both drest as Morescoes. Corr. in
MS. III.
[167-8]
And all the wealth, power, influence, which is yours
You let a murderer hold!
Albert. O faithful Ali
Corr. in MS. III.
[184-7]
Albert. Yes to the Netherlands
We will return, these robes this stained complexion
Akin to Falsehood, weigh upon my spirit
What e'er befal us, the heroic Maurice
Will grant us an asylum, in remembrance
Of our past service.
Corr. in MS. III.
[200] After Enter Osorio.
Be quick
Remove these tablets—quick conceal it—
Corr. in MS. III.
Stage-directions (groaning, &c.) before 206, and
(Albert, &c.) after 206 om. Remorse.
[206] Zul. (to Alvar). Why, &c. Remorse.
[208] in anguish] forgiveness Remorse.
[209-10]
Ord. (returning and aloud).
Plucked in the moonlight from a ruin'd abbey—
Those only, which the pale rays visited!
O the unintelligible power of weeds,
Remorse.
[216]
Ord. With you, then, I am to speak.
[Haughtily waving his hand to Zulimez.
And mark you, alone.
[Exit Zulimez.
Remorse.
[224] No, no!] O no! Remorse.
[225] fits] suits Remorse.
Before 226 Ord. (aside). O what a, &c. Remorse.
[228]
Yet still a fool! [Looks round the cottage.
You are poor!
Remorse.
[230-3]
The Inquisition, too—You comprehend me?
You are poor, in peril. I have wealth and power
Remorse.
[235] And for the boon I ask of you but this Remorse.
[237] Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[239]
Ord. The slave begins to soften. [aside.
You are my friend
Remorse.
After 242 Stage-direction om. Remorse.
[244] Alv. (aside). Alas! &c. Remorse.