« ForrigeFortsett »
Thy sire and I will crush the snake
A snake's small eye blinks dull and shy,
The maid, alas! her thoughts are gone,
The same, for whom thy lady died. O by the pangs of her dear mother, * Think thou no evil of thy child ! For her, and thee, and for no other, She pray'd the moment ere she died; Pray'd that the babe for whom she died Might prove her dear lord's joy and pride! That prayer her deadly pangs beguiled, Sir Leoline! And wouldst thou wrong thy only child, Her child and thine?
Within the Baron's heart and brain
THE CONCLUSION TO PART II.
A little child, a limber elf,
$emorge; A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.
Zulim Ez. No sound, no face of joy to welcome us! A Lv AR. My faithful Zulimez, for one brief moment Let me forget my anguish and their crimes. If aught on earth demand an unmix'd feeling, T is surely this—after long years of exile, To step forth on firm land, and gazing round us, To hail at once our country, and our birth-place. Hail, Spain! Granada, hail! once more I press Thy sands with filial awe, land of my fathers! zu LiMez. Then claim your rights in it! 0, revered Don Alvar, Yet, yet give up your all too gentle purpose. It is too hazardous! reveal yourself, And let the guilty meet the doom of guilt! ALwan. Remember, Zulimez! I am his brother: Injured indeed! 0 deeply injured! yet Ordonio's brother. zu Li Mirz. Nobly-minded Alvar! This sure but gives his guilt a blacker dye. ALWA a. The more behoves it, I should rouse within him hemorse! that I should save him from himself.
zu LiMirz. Remorse is as the heart in which it grows : If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy, It is a poison-tree that, pierced to the inmost, Weeps only tears of poison. ALwart. And of a brother, Dare I hold this, unproved nor make one effort To save him?—Hear me, friend! I have yet to tell thee, That this same life, which he conspired to take, Himself once rescued from the angry flood, And at the imminent hazard of his own. Add too my oath— zu Lim Ez. You have thrice told already The years of absence and of secrecy, To which a forced oath bound you: if in truth A suborn'd murderer have the power to dictate A binding oath— ALwar. My long captivity Left me no choice: the very Wish too languish'd With the fond Hope that nursed it; the sick babe Droop'd at the bosom of its famished mother. But (more than all) Teresa's perfidy; The assassin's strong assurance, when no interest, No motive could have tempted him to falsehood: In the first pangs of his awaken'd conscience, When with abhorrence of his own black purpose The murderous weapon, pointed at my breast, Fell from his palsied hand— zu Limiez. Heavy presumption' ALWAR. It weigh’d not with me—Hark! I will tell thee all; As we passed by, I bade thee mark the base Of yonder cliff— zu LiMez. That rocky seat you mean, Shaped by the billows — ALWAR. There Teresa met me The morning of the day of my departure. We were alone: the purple hue of dawn, Fell from the kindling east aslant upon us, And, blending with the blushes on her cheek, Suffused the tear-drops there with rosy light. There seemed a glory round us, and Teresa The angel of the vision' [Then with agitation. Hadst thou seen How in each motion her most innocent sonl Beam'd forth and brighten'd, thou thyself wouldst tell me, Guilt is a thing impossible in her! She must be innocent! zuli Mez (with a sigh). Proceed, my lord!
ALWAR. A portrait which she had procured by stealth (For even then it seems her heart foreboded Or knew Ordonio's moody rivalry), A portrait of herself with thrilling hand She tied around my neck, conjuring me With earnest prayers, that I would keep it sacred To my own knowledge: nor did she desist, Till she had won a solemn promise from me, that (save my own) no eye should eer behold it Till my return. Yet this the assassin knew, Knew that which none but she could have disclosed. ZU Li Mez. A damning proof' ALWAR. My own life wearied me! And but for the imperative Voice within, With mine own hand I had thrown off the burthen. That Voice, which quell'd me, calm'd me: and I sought The Belgic states: there join'd the better cause; And there too fought as one that courted death! Wounded, I fell among the dead and dying, In death-like trance: a long imprisonment follow'd. The fulness of my anguish by degrees Waned to a meditative melancholy; And still, the more I mused, my soul became More doubtful, more perplex'd ; and still Teresa, Night after night, she visited my sleep, Now as a saintly sufferer, wan and tearful, Now as a saint in glory beckoning to me! Yes, still, as in contempt of proof and reason, I cherish the fond faith that she is guiltless! Hear then my fix'd resolve: I'll linger here In the disguise of a Moresco chieftain.— The Moorish robes?— zu Li Mez. All, all are in the sea-cave, Some furlong hence. I bade our mariners Secrete the boat there. A Lv Att. Above all, the picture Of the assassination— zu Li Mez. Be assured That it remains uninjured. ALWAR. Thus disguised, I will first seek to meet Ordonio's—wife If possible, alone too. This was her wonted walk, And this the hour; her words, her very looks Will acquit her or convict. zu lixirz. will they not know you? A LWAR. With your aid, friend, I shall unfearingly Trust the disguise; and as to my complexion, My long imprisonment, the scanty food, This scar, and toil beneath a burning sun, Have done already half the business for us. Add too my youth, when last we saw each other. Manhood has swoln my chest, and taught my voice A hoarser note—Besides, they think me dead: And what the mind believes impossible, The bodily sense is slow to recognize. zu Li Mez. 'T is yours, sir, to command ; mine to obey.
ten es A. I hold Ordonio dear; he is your son And Alvar's brother. WAldrz. Love him for himself, Nor make the living wretched for the dead. TEn Es A. I mourn that you should plead in vain, Lord Waldez; But heaven hath heard my vow, and I remain Faithful to Alvar, be he dead or living. WALDEz. Heaven knows with what delight I saw your loves, And could my heart's blood give him back to thee I would die smiling. But these are idle thoughts' Thy dying father comes upon my soul With that same look, with which he gave thee to me; I held thee in my arms a powerless babe, While thy poor mother with a mute entreaty Fix'd her faint eyes on mine. Ah not for this, That I should let thee feed thy soul with gloom, And with slow anguish wear away thy life, The victim of a useless constancy. I must not see thee wretched. ten esa. There are woes Ill barter'd for the garishness of joy! If it be wretched with an untired eye To watch those skiey tints, and this green ocean; Or in the sultry hour beneath some rock, My hair dishevell'd by the pleasant sea-breeze, To shape sweet visions, and live o'er again All past hours of delight! If it be wretched To watch some bark, and fancy Alvar there, To go through each minutest circumstance Of the blest meeting, and to frame adventures Most terrible and strange, and hear him tell them; ' (As once I knew a crazy Moorish maid Who drest her in her buried lover's clothes, And o'er the smooth spring in the mountain cleft Hung with her lute, and play'd the self-same tune He used to play, and listend to the shadow Herself had made)—if this be wretchedness, And if indeed it be a wretched thing To trick out mine own death-bed, and imagine That I had died, died just ere his return! Then see him listening to my constancy, Or hover round, as he at midnight oft
" Here Walder bends back, and smiles at her wildness, which Teresa noticing, checks her enthusiasm, and in a soothing halfplayful tone and manner, alologizes for her fancy, by the little tale iu the parenthesis.
Sits on my grave and gazes at the moon;
The very week he promised his return——
Oh no! he did not : WALnez. Captured in sight of land! From yon hill point, nay, from our castle watch-tower We might have seen—— Traes A. His capture, not his death. waldez, Alas! how aptly thou forget'st a tale Thou ne'er didst wish to learn' my brave Ordonio Saw both the pirate and his prize go down, In the same storm that baffled his own valour, And thus twice snatch'd a brother from his hopes: Gallant Ordonio' (pauses; then tenderly). O beloved Teresa! Wouldst thou best prove thy faith to generous Alvar, And most delight his spirit, go, make thou His brother happy, make his aged father Sink to the grave in joy. Teresa. For mercy's sake, Press me no more! I have no power to love him. His proud forbidding eye, and his dark brow, Chill me like dew damps of the unwholesome might: My love, a timorous and tender flower, Closes beneath his touch. v.ALDEz. You wrong him, maiden! Wou wrong him, by my soul! Nor was it well To character by such unkindly phrases The stir and workings of that love for you | Which he has toil'd to smother. T was not well, Nor is it grateful in you to forget
[Clasping her forehead.
A thought? even so! mere thought! an empty thought.
His wounds and perilous voyages, and how
valdez (looking forward.)
Hush ' 'tis Monviedro.
My Lord Ordonio, this Moresco woman
on donio. Hail, reverend father! what may be the business?
- Monvied Ro.
My lord, on strong suspicion of relapse
on do Nio.
Reverend father, I am much beholden to your high opinion, which so o'erprizes my light services.
[Then to Alhadra. I would that I could serve you; but in truth Your face is new to me.
Monvientio. My mind foretold me, That such would be the event. In truth, Lord Waldez, T was little probable, that Don Ordonio, That your illustrious son, who fought so bravely Some four years since to quell these rebel Moors, should prove the patron of this infidel! the guarantee of a Moresco's faith ! Now I return. Altı ADBA.
My Lord, my husband's name Is isidore. (Oaponio starts.)—You may remember 1's
Three years ago, three years this very week,