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Sits on my grave and gazes at the moon;
Smile at him from my arms?
A thought? even so! mere thought! an empty thought.
wouldst thou best prove thy faith to generous Alvar,
For mercy's sake,
Press me no more! I have no power to love him.
You wrong him, maiden!
You wrong him, by my soul! Nor was it well
His wounds and perilous voyages, and how
Trn Esa. Oh pardon me, Lord Valdez! pardon me! It was a foolish and ungrateful speech, A most ungratesul 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. TEREs A The Inquisitor! on what new scent of blood?
Enter Monviedro with ALHADRA.
Monviedro (having first made his obeisance to WALDEz and TERESA).
Peace and the truth be with you! Good my Lord,
My present need is with your son.
We have hit the time. Here comes he ' Yes, 'tis he.
Enter from the opposite side DoN ORDON10.
My Lord Ordonio, this Moresco woman (Alhadra is her name) asks audience of you.
or Donio. Hail, reverend father! what may be the business?
My Lord, on strong suspicion of relapse
I am much beholden to your high opinion,
[Then to ALHADRA.
Monviedro. My mind soretold me, That such would be the event. In truth, Lord Valdez, "Twas 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. Alii ADRA. My Lord, my husband's name Is Isidore. (ORDoNio starts)—You may remember it: Three years ago, three years this very week, You left him at Almeria.
Monwiedro. Palpably false! This very week, three years ago, my Lord (You needs must recollect it by your wound), You were at sea, and there engaged the pirates, The murderers doubtless of your brother Alvar !
ITERESA looks at Monviedro with disgust and horror. ORDoNio's appearance to be collected from what follows. Monviedro (to WALDEz, and pointing at ORDoNio). What! is he ill, my Lord? how strange he looks! v.ALDEz (angrily). You press'd upon him too abruptly, father, The fate of one, on whom, you know, he doted.
ordonio (starting as in sudden agitation). O Heavens! I ? I—doted? (then recovering himself). Yes! I doted on him. [ORDoNio walks to the end of the stage, VALDEz follows, soothing him. TERESA (her eye following ORDoNio). I do not, can not, love him. Is my heart hard? Is my heart hard 2 that even now the thought Should force itself upon me?—Yet I feel it! Monvied Ro. - The drops did start and stand upon his forehead : I will return. In very truth, I grieve To have been the occasion. Ho! attend me, woman!
ALHADRA (to TERESA). O gentle lady! make the father stay, Until my Lord recover. I am sure, That he will say he is my husband's friend. TEREsA. Stay, father! stay! my Lord will soon recover.
or DoNio (as they return, to VALDEz). Strange, that this Monviedro Should have the power so to distemper me!
val. Droz. Nay, 'twas an amiable weakness, son'
on do Nio.
A sudden seizure, father! think not of it.
ordonio. "Tis certain that he was a Catholic; What changes may have happen'd in three years, I cannot say; but grant me this, good father: Myself I'll sift him: if I find him sound, You'll grant me your authority and name To liberate his house. Monviedro. Your zeal, my Lord, And your late merits in this holy warfare, Would authorize an ampler trust—you have it Ordonio. I will attend you home within an hour.
VALIdEz. Meantime, return with us and take refreshment.
[Exeunt WALDEz, Monviedro, and ORDoNIo.
ALHADRA. Hah! there he goes! a bitter curse go with him, A scathing curse! (Then as if recollecting herself, and with a timid look). You hate him, don't you, lady? TERESA (perceiving that ALHADRA is conscious she has spoken imprudently).
Oh fear not me! my heart is sad for you.
TeREs A. . Be more calm, I pray you. ALHADRA. And as he walked along the narrow path Close by the mountain's edge, my soul grew eager; "Twas with hard toil I made myself remember That his Familiars held my babes and husband. To have leapt upon him with a tiger's plunge, And hurl’d him down the rugged precipice, O, it had been most sweet! TEREs A. Hush! hush for shame! Where is your woman's heart? ALHADRA. O gentle lady! You have no skill to guess my many wrongs, Many and strange! Besides (ironically), I am a Christlan, And Christians never pardon—'tis their faith ! Teresa. Shame fall on those who so have shown it to thee!
Which haply told me, that all the all-cheering Sun
I saw the blessed arch of the whole heaven!
He hath a lion's courage,
Enter Alvar disguised as a MoREsco, and in Moorish garments.
I stay'd as though the hour of death were pass'd,
There is no room in this heart for puling love-tales.
Stranger, farewell! I guess not who you are,
[Ereunt TERESA and ALHADRA.
Alvan (alone). "Tis strange! It cannot be! my Lord Ordonio ! Her Lord Ordonio: Nay, I will not do it! I cursed him once—and one curse is enough! How bad she look'd, and pale; but not like guilt— And her calm tones—sweet as a song of mercy! If the bad spirit retain'd his angel's voice, Hell scarce were Hell. And why not innocent? Who meant to murder me, might well cheat her? But ere she married him, he had stain'd her honor; Ah! there I am hamper'd. What if this were a lie Framed by the assassin' Who should tell it him, If it were truth? Ordonio would not tell him. Yet why one lie? all else, I know, was truth.
No start, no jealousy of stirring conscience!
ACT II. SCENE I. A wild and mountainous Country. ORDonio and IstDoRE are discovered, supposed at a little distance from IsidokE's house. ordonio. Here we may stop: your house distinct in view, Yet we secured from listeners. ISIDOR.E. Now indeed My house! and it looks cheerful as the clusters Basking in sunshine on yon vine-clad rock, That over-brows it! Patron! Friend o Preserver: Thrice have you saved my life. Once in the battle You gave it me: next rescued me from suicide, When for my follies I was made to wander, With mouths to feed, and not a morsel for them Now, but for you, a dungeon's slimy stones Had been my bed and pillow.
isidore. You sport with me, my Lord ordonio. Come, come! this foolery Lives only in thy looks: thy heart disowns it! Isidore. I can bear this, and any thing more grievous From you, my Lord—but how can I serve you here?
ordonio. Why, you can utter with a solemn gesture Oracular sentences of deep no-meaning, Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics—
isidone. I am dull, my Lord! I do not comprehend you.
ordonio. In blunt terms, you can play the sorcerer. She hath no faith in Holy Church, 'tis true: Her lover school'd her in some newer nonsense! Yet still a tale of spirits works upon her. She is a lone enthusiast, sensitive, Shivers, and cannot keep the tears in her eye: And such do love the marvellous too well Not to believe it. We will wind up her fancy With a strange music, that she knows not of With fumes of frankincense, and mummery, Then leave, as one sure token of his death, That portrait, which from off the dead man's neck I bade thee take, the trophy of thy conquest.
Will that be a sure sign
Fondly caressing him, her favor'd lover
Isidoraro. But now I should have cursed the man who told me You could ask aught, my Lord, and I refuse— But this I cannot do. ordonio. Where lies your scruple : Isidor E (with stammering). Why—why, my Lord! You know you told me that the lady loved you, Had loved you with incautious tenderness; That if the young man, her betrothed husband, Returned, yourself, and she, and the honor 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— oadonio (aloud, though to express his contempt he speaks in the third person). This fellow is a Man—he kill'd for hire One whom he knew not, yet has tender scruples! [Then turning to Isidore. These doubts, these fears, thy whine, thy stammer. ingPish, fool! thou blunder'st through the book of guilt, Spelling thy villany.
. ISIDOR.E. My Lord—my Lord, I can bear much—yes, very much from you! But there's a point where sufferance is meanness: I am no villain—never kill'd for hire– My gratitude— - ordonio. 0 ay—your gratitude! "Twas a well-sounding word—what..have you done with it? IsIDoRE. Who proffers his past favors for my virtue– or DoNio (with bitler scorn). Virtue!— Isidor E. Tries to o'erreach me—is a very sharper, And should not speak of gratitude, my Lord. I knew not 'twas your brother! or DoNio (alarmed). And who told you? Isidore. He himself told me. or Donio. Ha! you talk'd with him : And those, the two Morescoes who were with you? Isidore. Both fell in a night-brawl at Malaga. on DoNio (in a low voice). My brother— . ISIDOR.E. Yes, my Lord, I could not tell you! I thrust away the thought—it drove me wild. But listen to me now—I pray you listen
Ordonio. Villain! no more! I'll hear no more of it.
Isidorr. My Lord, it much imports your future safety That you should hear it.
ordonio (turning off from Isidore.)
Am not I a Man : "Tis as it should be! tut—the deed itself Was idle, and these after-pangs still idler!
He fought us valiantly, and wounded all;
or Donio (sighing, as if lost in thought).
Alvar! brother' Isidore. He offer'd me his purse— ordonio (with eager suspicion). Yes? Isidore (indignantly). Yes—I spurn'd it.— He promised us I know not what—in vain! Then with a look and voice that overawed me, He said, What mean you, friends? My life is dear: I have a brother and a promised wise, Who make life dear to me—and if I fall, That brother will roam earth and hell for vengeance. There was a likeness in his face to yours; I ask'd his brother's name: he said–Ordonio,