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Nay!

Nay, by my soul!" said Leoline.
-Ho! Bracy the bard, the charge be thine:
Go thou, with music sweet and loud,
And take two steeds with trappings proud,
And take the youth whom thou lovest best
To bear thy harp, and learn thy song,
And clothe you both in solemn vest,
And over the mountains haste along,
Lest wandering folk, that are abroad,
Detain you on the valley road.

And when he has cross'd the Irthing flood,
My merry bard! he hastes, he hastes
Up Knorren Moor, through Halegarth wood,
And reaches soon that castle good

Which stands and threatens Scotland's wastes.

Bard Bracy, bard Bracy! your horses are fleet, Ye must ride up the hall, your music so sweet, More loud than your horses' echoing feet! And loud and loud to Lord Roland call, Thy daughter is safe in Langdale hall! Thy beautiful daughter is safe and freeSir Leoline greets thee thus through me. He bids thee come without delay With all thy numerous array; ́ And take thy lovely daughter home: And he will meet thee on the way

With all his numerous array,
White with their panting palfreys' foam:
And by mine honor! I will say,

That I repent me of the day
When I spake words of high disdain
To Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine !
-For since that evil hour hath flown,
Many a summer's sun hath shone;
Yet ne'er found I a friend again
Like Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine."

The Lady fell, and clasp'd his knees,
Her face upraised, her eyes o'erflowing;
And Bracy replied, with faltering voice,
Her gracious hail on all bestowing;-
Thy words, thou sire of Christabel,
Are sweeter than my harp can tell;
Yet might I gain a boon of thee,
This day my journey should not be.
So strange a dream hath come to me,
That I had vow'd with music loud
To clear yon wood from thing unblest,
Warn'd by a vision in my rest!

For in my sleep I saw that dove,
That gentle bird, whom thou dost love,
And call'st by thy own daughter's name-
Sir Leoline! I saw the same,
Fluttering, and uttering fearful moan,
Among the green herbs in the forest alone.
Which when I saw and when I heard,

I wonder'd what might ail the bird:

For nothing near it could I see,

Save the grass and green herbs underneath the old tree.

And in my dream, methought, I went

To search out what might there be found;
And what the sweet bird's trouble meant
That thus lay fluttering on the ground.
I went and peer'd, and could descry
No cause for her distressful cry;
But yet for her dear lady's sake
I stoop'd, methought, the dove to take.
When lo! I saw a bright green snake
Coil'd around its wings and neck.
Green as the herbs on which it couch'd,
Close by the dove's its head it crouch'd!
And with the dove it heaves and stirs,
Swelling its neck as she swell'd hers!
I woke; it was the midnight hour,
The clock was echoing in the tower;
But though my slumber was gone by,
This dream it would not pass away-
It seems to live upon my eye!
And thence I vow'd this self-same day,
With music strong and saintly song
To wander through the forest bare,
Lest aught unholy loiter there.

Thus Bracy said: the Baron, the while,
Half-listening heard him with a smile;
Then turn'd to Lady Geraldine,

His eyes made up of wonder and love;
And said in courtly accents fine,
Sweet Maid! Lord Roland's beauteous dove,
With arms more strong than harp or song,

Thy sire and I will crush the snake!
He kiss'd her forehead as he spake,
And Geraldine in maiden wise,
Casting down her large bright eyes,
With blushing cheek and courtesy fine
She, turn'd her from Sir Leoline;
Softly gathering up her train,
That o'er her right arm fell again;
And folded her arms across her chest,
And couch'd her head upon her breast,
And look'd askance at Christabel-
Jesu, Maria, shield her well!

A snake's small eye blinks dull and shy,
And the lady's eyes they shrunk in her head,
Each shrunk up to a serpent's eye,

And with somewhat of malice and more of dread,
At Christabel she look'd askance
One moment-and the sight was fled!
But Christabel, in dizzy trance
Stumbling on the unsteady ground,
Shudder'd aloud, with a hissing sound;
And Geraldine again turn'd round,
And like a thing, that sought relief,
Full of wonder and full of grief,
She roll'd her large bright eyes divine
Wildly on Sir Leoline.

The maid, alas! her thoughts are gone,
She nothing sees-no sight but one!
The maid, devoid of guile and sin,
I know not how, in fearful wise
So deeply had she drunken in

That look, those shrunken serpent eyes,
That all her features were resign'd
To this sole image in her mind :
And passively did imitate

That look of dull and treacherous hate!
And thus she stood, in dizzy trance,
Still picturing that look askance
With forced, unconscious sympathy
Full before her father's view-

As far as such a look could be,

In eyes so innocent and blue.

And when the trance was o'er, the maid
Paused awhile, and inly pray'd:
Then falling at the Baron's feet,
"By my mother's soul do I entreat
That thou this woman send away!"
She said and more she could not say;
For what she knew she could not tell,
O'ermaster'd by the mighty spell.

:

Why is thy cheek so wan and wild,
Sir Leoline? Thy only child
Lies at thy feet, thy joy, thy pride,
So fair, so innocent, so mild;

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
If thoughts like these had any share,
They only swell'd his rage and pain,
And did but work confusion there.

His heart was cleft with pain and rage,
His cheeks they quiver'd, his eyes were wild,
Dishonor'd thus in his old age;
Dishonor'd by his only child,
And all his hospitality

To the insulted daughter of his friend
By more than woman's jealousy
Brought thus to a disgraceful end-
He roll'd his eye with stern regard
Upon the gentle minstrel bard,
And said in tones abrupt, austere,
Why, Bracy! dost thou loiter here?
I bade thee hence! The Bard obey'd;
And, turning from his own sweet maid,
The aged knight, Sir Leoline,
Led forth the lady Geraldine!

THE CONCLUSION TO PART II.

A LITTLE child, a limber elf,
Singing, dancing to itself,

A fairy thing with red round cheeks
That always finds and never seeks,
Makes such a vision to the sight
As fills a father's eyes with light;
And pleasures flow in so thick and fast
Upon his heart, that he at last
Must needs express his love's excess
With words of unmeant bitterness.
Perhaps 'tis pretty to force together
Thoughts so all unlike each other;
To mutter and mock a broken charm,
To dally with wrong that does no harm.
Perhaps 'tis tender too and pretty
At each wild word to feel within
A sweet recoil of love and pity.
And what, if in a world of sin

(O sorrow and shame should this be true)!

Such giddiness of heart and brain Comes seldom save from rage and pain,

So talks as it's most used to do.

82

Remorse;

A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

ZULIMEZ.

Remorse is as the heart in which it grows: If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews

MARQUIS VALDEZ, Father to the two brothers, and of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy,

Donna Teresa's Guardian.

DON ALVAR, the eldest son.

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It is a poison-tree that, pierced to the inmost, Weeps only tears of poison.

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ALVAR.

A portrait which she had procured by stealth
(For ever 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 e'er behold it
Till my return. Yet this the assassin knew,
Knew that which none but she could have disclosed.

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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 fullness 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 ?-

Some furlong hence.
Secrete the boat there.

Of the assassination

ZULIMEZ.

All, all are in the sea-cave,
I bade our mariners

ALVAR.

Above all, the picture

ZULIMEZ.

Be assured

That it remains uninjured.

ALVAR.

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.

ZULIMEZ.

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SCENE II.

Enter TERESA and VALDEZ.

TERESA.

I hold Ordonio dear; he is your son
And Alvar's brother.

VALDEZ.

Love him for himself,
Nor make the living wretched for the dead.

TERESA.

[Exeunt

I mourn that you should plead in vain, Lord Valdez;
But heaven hath heard my vow, and I remain
Faithful to Alvar, be he dead or living.

VALDEZ.

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.

TERESA.

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
Will they not know you? And o'er the smooth spring in the mountain cleft
Who drest her in her buried lover's clothes,
Hung with her lute, and play'd the self-same tune
He used to play, and listen'd to the shadow
Herself had made)-if this be wretchedness,
And if indeed it be a wretched thing

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VALDEZ.

Captured in sight of land!

From yon hill point, nay, from our castle watch-tower
We might have seen-

TERESA.

VALDEZ.

His wounds and perilous voyages, and how
With an heroic fearlessness of danger

He roam'd the coast of Afric for your Alvar.

It was not well-You have moved me even to tears.

TERESA.

Oh pardon me, Lord Valdez! pardon me!
It was a foolish and ungrateful speech,
A most ungrateful speech! But I am hurried
Beyond myself, if I but hear of one
Who aims to rival Alvar. Were we not

Born in one day, like twins of the same parent?
Nursed in one cradle? Pardon me, my father!
A six years' absence is a heavy thing,
Yet still the hope survives-

VALDEZ (looking forward).

Hush! 'tis Monviedro.

TERESA

The Inquisitor! on what new scent of blood?
Enter MONVIEDRO with ALHADRA.

MONVIEDRO (having first made his obeisance to
VALDEZ and TERESA).

Peace and the truth be with you! Good my Lord,
My present need is with your son.

[Looking forward. We have hit the time. Here comes he! Yes, 'tis he. Enter from the opposite side DON ORDONIO.

My Lord Ordonio, this Moresco woman
(Alhadra is her name) asks audience of you.

ORDONIO.
Hail, reverend father! what may be the business?

MONVIEDRO.

My Lord, on strong suspicion of relapse
To his false creed, so recently abjured,
The secret servants of the inquisition

Have seized her husband, and at my command
To the supreme tribunal would have led him,
His capture, not his death. But that he made appeal to you, my Lord,
As surety for his soundness in the faith.
Though lessen'd by experience what small trust
The asseverations of these Moors deserve,
Yet still the deference to Ordonio's name,
Nor less the wish to prove, with what high honor
The Holy Church regards her faithful soldiers,
Thus far prevail'd with me that-

Alas! how aptly thou forgett'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 valor,
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 night:
My love, a timorous and tender flower,
Closes beneath his touch.

VALDEZ.

You wrong him, maiden!

You 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

ORDONIO.

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.

MONVIEDRO.

My mind foretold me,
That such would be the event. In truth, Lord Valdez,
"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.

ALHADRA.

My Lord, my husband's name

Is Isidore. (ORDONIO starts.)-You may remember it

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