Enter a PEASANT and presents a letter to VALDEZ. VALDEZ (reading it).
"He dares not venture hither!" Why what can this mean?
"Lest the Familiars of the Inquisition,
To float for ever with a careless course, And think myself the only being alive!
My children!-Isidore's children! - Son of Valdez, This hath new-strung mine arm. Thou coward tyrant! To stupify a woman's heart with anguish,
That watch around my gates, should intercept him; Till she forgot even that she was a mother!
But he conjures me, that without delay
I hasten to him for my own sake entreats me
To guard from danger him I hold imprison'd-
He will reveal a secret, the joy of which
Will even outweigh the sorrow."-Why what can
The moon is high in heaven, and all is hush'd.
Yet, anxious listener! I have seem'd to hear
A low dead thunder mutter through the night,
As 't were a giant angry in his sleep.
O Alvar! Alvar! that they could return,
Those blessed days that imitated heaven,
When we two wont to walk at even-tide;
When we saw naught but beauty; when we heard
The voice of that Almighty One who loved us
In every gale that breathed, and wave that murmur'd!
O we have listen'd, even till high-wrought pleasure
Hath half assumed the countenance of grief,
And the deep sigh seem'd to heave up a weight
Of bliss, that press'd too heavy on the heart.
[She fixes her eye on the earth. Then drop in one after another, from different parts of the stage, a considerable number of Morescoes, all in Moorish garments and Moorish armor. They form a circle at a distance round AlHadra, and remain silent till the second in command, NAOMI, enters, distinguished by his dress and armor, and by the silent obeisance paid to him on his entrance by the other Moors.
Woman! may Alla and the Prophet bless thee!
We have obey'd thy call. Where is our chief?
And why didst thou enjoin these Moorish garments!
ALHADRA (raising her eyes, and looking round on the
circle).
Warriors of Mahomet! faithful in the battle!
My countrymen! Come ye prepared to work
An honorable deed? And would ye work it
In the slave's garb? Curse on those Christian robes!
They are spell-blasted: and whoever wears them,
His arm shrinks wither'd, his heart melts away,
And his bones soften.
Where is Isidore?
ALHADRA (in a deep low voice).
This night I went from forth my house, and left
His children all asleep: and he was living!
And I return'd and found them still asleep,
But he had perish'd-
ALL THE MORESCOES. Perish'd?
Sleep on, poor babes! not one of you doth know
That he is fatherless-a desolate orphan!
Why should we wake them? can an infant's arm
Revenge his murder?
The Mountains by moonlight. ALHADRA alone in a Moorish dress.
Yon hanging woods, that touch'd by autumn seem
As they were blossoming hues of fire and gold;
The flower-like woods, most lovely in decay,
The many clouds, the sea, the rock, the sands,
Lie in the silent moonshine: and the owl,
(Strange! very strange!) the screech-owl only wakes!
Sole voice, sole eye of all this world of beauty!
Unless, perhaps, she sing her screeching song
To a herd of wolves, that skulk athirst for blood.
Why such a thing am I? Where are these men?
I need the sympathy of human faces,
To beat away this deep contempt for all things,
Which quenches my revenge. Oh! would to Alla,
The raven, or the sea-mew, were appointed
To bring me food! or rather that my soul
Could drink in life from the universal air!
It were a lot divine in some small skiff
Along some Ocean's boundless solitude,
Rush by with flaring torch; he likewise enter'd.
There was another and a longer pause;
And once, methought I heard the clash of swords!
And soon the son of Valdez reappear'd:
He flung his torch towards the moon in sport,
And seem'd as he were mirthful! I stood listening,
Impatient for the footsteps of my husband!
Twas dark and very silent.
[Then wildly.
What saidst thou?
No! no! I did not dare call, Isidore,
Lest I should hear no answer! A brief while,
Belike, I lost all thought and memory
Of that for which I came! After that pause,
O Heaven! I heard a groan, and follow'd it:
And yet another groan, which guided me
Into a strange recess and there was light,
A hideous light! his torch lay on the ground;
Its flame burnt dimly o'er a chasm's brink:
I spake; and whilst I spake, a feeble groan
This is the process of our love and wisdom
To each poor brother who offends against us-
Most innocent, perhaps and what if guilty?
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,
They break out on him, like a lothesome plague
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,
Seen through the steam and vapors 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 evermore deformity!
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 words, and winds, and waters!
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 harmonized
By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
I am chill and weary! Yon rude bench of stone,
Came from that chasm! it was his last! his death- In that dark angle, the sole resting-place!
I stood in unimaginable trance
And agony that cannot be remember'd,
Listening with horrid hope to hear a groan!
But I had heard his last: my husband's death-groan!
I look'd far down the pit-
My sight was bounded by a jutting fragment:
And it was stain'd with blood. Then first I shriek'd,
My eye-balls burnt, my brain grew hot as fire,
And all the hanging drops of the wet roof
Turn'd into blood-I saw them turn to blood!
And I was leaping wildly down the chasm,
When on the farther brink I saw his sword,
And it said, Vengeance! - Curses on my tongue!
The moon hath moved in Heaven, and I am here,
And he hath not had vengeance! Isidore!
Spirit of Isidore! thy murderer lives!
Away! away!
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.
[Retires out of sight.
Enter TERESA with a Taper.
It has chill'd my very life-my own voice scares me!
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!
[Shuddering.
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.
ALVAR (rushes towards her, and catches her as she
O gracious Heaven! it is, it is Teresa!
I shall 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!
TERESA (recovering, looks round wildly).
I heard a voice; but often in my dreams
I hear that voice! and wake and try and try-
Thou dost not leave me But a brief while retire into the darkness:
TERESA (retires from him, and feebly supports herself O that my joy could spread its sunshine round th
against a pillar of the dungeon).
Ha! Who art thou?
ALVAR (exceedingly affected).
[A pause; then presses her forehead.
O'tis lost again!
The sound of thy voice shall be my music!
[Retiring, she returns hastily and embraces ALV
Alvar! my Alvar! am I sure I hold thee?
Is it no dream? thee in my arms, my Alvar! [E
[A noise at the Dungeon door. It opens, e
ORDONIO enters, with a goblet in his hane
Hail, potent wizard! in my gayer mood
I pour'd forth a libation to old Pluto,
And as I brimm'd the bowl, I thought on thee.
Thou hast conspired against my life and honor,
Hast trick'd me foully; yet I hate thee not.
Why should I hate thee? this same world of ours
'Tis but a pool amid a storm of rain,
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 to ALV
The weaker needs must break.
I see thy heart! There is a frightful glitter in thine eye [A pause, she gazes at ALVAR. Which doth betray thee. Inly-tortured man! 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 suborn'd thee, And thou didst spare his life? Blessings shower on
As many as the drops twice counted o'er
In the fond faithful heart of his Teresa!
The Moorish Sorcerer
I can endure no more.
Exists but in the stain upon his face.
TERESA (advances towards him).
Ha! speak on!
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.
Which moves this way and that its hundred limbs
Were it a toy of mere mechanic craft,
It were an infinitely curious thing!
But it has life, Ordonio! life, enjoyment!
And by the power of its miraculous will
Wields all the complex movements of its frame
[Takes her portrait from his neck, and gives it her. Unerringly to pleasurable ends!
The accomplice and sworn friend of Isidore.
How sweet and musical the name of Alvar!
Then, then, Ordonio, he was dear to thee,
And thou wert dear to him; Heaven only knows
How very dear thou wert! Why didst thou hate him ?
And yet methinks I have heard the name but lately. O heaven! how he would fall upon thy neck,
Means he the husband of the Moorish woman?
Isidore? Isidore?
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,
And turn it to a motionless distraction!
Thou blind self-worshipper! thy pride, thy cunning,
Thy faith in universal villany,
Thy shallow sophisms, thy pretended scorn
For all thy human brethren-out upon them!
Spirit of the dead! Methinks I know thee! ha! my brain turns wild At its own dreams!-off-off, fantastic shadow!
I fain would tell thee what I am! but dare not!
Cheat! villain! traitor! whatsoever thou be-
I fear thee, man!
TERESA (rushing out and falling on ALVAR's neck).
Ordonio! 'tis thy brother.
[ORDONIO with frantic wildness runs upon ALVAR
with his sword. TERESA flings herself on
ORDONIO and arrests his arm.
Does then this thin disguise impenetrably
Hide Alvar from thee? Toil and painful wounds
And long imprisonment in unwholesome dungeons,
Have marr'd perhaps all trait and lineament
Of what I was! But chiefly, chiefly, brother,
My anguish for thy guilt!
Nay, nay, thou shalt embrace me.
What have they done for thee? have they given thee ORDONIO (drawing back and gazing at ALVAR with a
He would have died to save me, and I kill'd him- She hath avenged the blood of Isidore!
A husband and a father!
ORDONIO (fiercely recollecting himself).
Let the eternal Justice
Prepare my punishment in the obscure world-
I will not bear to live to live-O agony!
And be myself alone my own sore torment!
[The doors of the dungeon are broken open, and in
rush ALHADRA, and the band of MORESCOES.
I stood in silence like a slave before her,
That I might taste the wormwood and the gall,
And satiate this self-accusing heart
With bitterer agonies than death can give.
Forgive me, Alvar!
Oh! couldst thou forget me! [Dies [ALVAR and TERESA bend over the body of ORDONIO
I thank thee, Heaven! thou hast ordain'd it wisely,
That still extremes bring their own cure. That point
In misery, which makes the oppressed Man
Regardless of his own life, makes him too
Lord of the Oppressor's Knew I a hundred men
[ALVAR presses onward to defend ORDONIO. Despairing, but not palsied by despair,
Why didst thou leave his children?
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 though dark,
And bade the race of men raise up a mourning
For a deep horror of desolation,
Too great to be one soul's particular lot!
Brother of Zagri! let me lean upon thee.
[Struggling to suppress her feelings.
The time is not yet come for woman's anguish.
I have not seen his blood-Within an hour
Those little ones will crowd around and ask me,
Where is our father? I shall curse thee then!
Wert thou in heaven, my curse would pluck thee
This arm should shake the Kingdoms of the World;
The deep foundations of iniquity
Should sink away, earth groaning from beneath them;
The strong-holds of the cruel men should fall,
Their Temples and their mountainous Towers should
Delights so full, if unalloy'd with grief,
Were ominous. In these strange dread events
Just Heaven instructs us with an awful voice,
That Conscience rules us e'en against our choice.
Our inward monitress to guide or warn,
If listen'd to; but if repell'd with scorn,
At length as dire Remorse, she reappears,
Works in our guilty hopes, and selfish fears!
Still bids, Remember! and still cries, Too late!
And while she scares us, goads us to our fate.
Note 1, page 81, col. 1.
You are a painter.
The following lines I have preserved in this place, not so much as explanatory of the picture of the assassination, as (if I may say so without disrespect to the Public) to gratify my own feelings, the passage being no mere fancy portrait; but a slight, yet not
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