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And hurried from me. But I follow'd him 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!
pore and natural outlet shrivell'd up,
By ignorance and parching poverty, After a while I saw the son of Valdez
His energies roll back upon his heart,
And stagnate and corrupt, till, changed to poison, Rush by with flaring torch; he likewise enter'd. There was another and a longer pause;
They break out on him, like a lothesome plague. And once, methought I heard the clash of swords! Then we call in our pamper'd mountebanks :
spot! And soon the son of Valdez reappear'd :
And this is their best cure! uncomforted
And friendless solitude, groaning and tears,
Seen through the steam and vapors of his dungeon NAOMI.
By the lamp's dismal twilight! So he lies
Circled with evil, till his very soul
Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deform'd
What saidst thou ?
Healest thy wandering and distemper'd child: No! Do! I did not dare call, Isidore,
Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Lest I should hear no answer! A brief while,
Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets; Belike, I lost all thought and memory
Thy melodies of words, and winds, and waters ! Or that for which I came! After that pause, Till he relent, and can no more endure O Heaven! I heard a groan, and follow'd it:
To be a jarring and a dissonant thing And yet another groan, which guided me
Amid this general dance and minstrelsy ; Into a strange recess—and there was light,
But, bursting into lears, wins back his way, A hideous light! his torch lay on the ground;
His angry spirit heald and harmonized Its flame burnt dimly o'er a chasm's brink :
By the benignant touch of love and beauty. I spake ; and whilst I spake, a feeble groan
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! groan!
But the self-approving mind is its own light,
And life's best warmth still radiates from the heart Comfort her, Alla.
Where Love sits brooding, and an honest purpose. ALHADRA.
[Retires out of sight. I stood in unimaginable trance And agony that cannot be remember'd,
Enter TERESA with a Taper.
It has chill'd my very life-my own voice scares me! Haste! let us onward.
Yet when I hear it not, I seem to lose
The substance of my being—my strongest grasp I look'd far down the pit Sends inwards but weak witness that I am. My sight was bounded by a jutting fragment: I seek to cheat the echo.—How the half sounds And it was stain’d with blood. Then first I shriek’d, Blend with this strangled light! Is he not here My eye-balls burnt, my brain grew hot as fire,
(Louking round. And all the hanging drops of the wet roof
O for one human face here—but to see Turnid into blood—I saw then turn to blood ! One human face here to sustain me.-Courage! And I was leaping wildly down the chasm, It is but my own fear! The life within me, When on the farther brink I saw his sword, It sinks and wavers like this cone of flame, And it said, Vengeance !--Curses on my tongue! Beyond which I scarce dare look onward! Oh! The moon hath moved in Heaven, and I am here,
[Shuddering. And he hath not had vengeance! Isidore !
If I faint! If this inhuman den should be Spirit of Isidore! thy murderer lives!
At once my death-bed and my burial vault! Away! away!
(Fainily screams as Alvar emerges from the recess Away! away!
ALVAR (rushes towards her, and catches her as she [She rushes off, all following her.
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 !
I heard a voice; but often in my dreams And this place my forefathers made for man' I hear that voice! and wake and try—and try-
To hear it waking! but I never could
Open the sacred source of penitent tears,
O my all virtuous love! I fear to leave thee
With that obdurate man.
Thou dost not leave me!
But a brief while retire into the darkness : "ERESA (retires from him, and feebly supports herself O that my joy could spread its sunshine round thee against a pillar of the dungeon).
The sound of thy voice shall be my music!
(Retiring, she returns hastily and embraces ALTAR. Alvar! my Alvar! am I sure I hold thee?
Is it no dream ? thee in my arms, my Alvar! [Ezi Didst thou murder him?.
(A noise at the Dungeon door. It opens, and And dost thou now repent? Poor troubled man,
ORDONIO enlers, with a goblet in his hand I do forgive thee, and may Heaven forgive thee! Ordonio-he
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. His spirit ever at the throne of God
Thou hast conspired against my life and honor, Asks mercy for thee: prays for mercy for thee,
Hast trick'd me foully; yet I hate thee not. With tears in Heaven!
Why should I hate thee? this same world of ours, "T is but a pool amid a storm of rain,
And we the air-bladders that course up and down, Alvar was not murder'd.
And joust and tilt in merry tournament;
And when one bubble runs foul of another,
[Waving his hand to ALYAR Nay, nay, but tell me !
The weaker needs must break.
I see thy heart! This dull confused pain
There is.a frightful glitter in thine eye
This is the revelry of a drunken anguish, Methinks I can not fear thee: for thine eye Which fain would scoff away the pang of guilt, Doth swim with love and pity-Well! Ordonio
And quell each human feeling.
Feeling! feeling! As many as the drops twice counted o'er
The death of a man—the breaking of a bubble In the fond faithful heart of his Teresa !
'Tis true I cannot sob for such misfortunes ;
But faintness, cold and hunger-curses on me I can endure no more. The Moorish Sorcerer
If willingly I e'er inflicted them! Exists but in the stain upon his face.
Come, take the beverage ; this chill place demands it That picture
[ORDONIO proffers the gobiet
Yon insect on the wall,
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 ! Tell all—that Alvar lives—that he is here!
And by the power of its miraculous will Thy much deceived but ever faithful Alvar.
Wields all the complex movements of its frame ( Takes her portrait from his neck, and gives it her. Unerringly to pleasurable ends ! TERESA (receiving the portrait).
Saw I that insect on this goblet's brim,
What meanest thou?
There's poison in the wine. At the dungeon's outer door. A brief, brief while Conceal thyself, my love! It is Ordonio.
ORDONIO. For the honor of our race, for our dear father;
Thou hast guess'd right; there's poison in the wine O for himself too (he is still my brother)
There's poison in 't—which of us two shall drink it Let me recall him to his nobler nature,
For one of us must die !
Whom dost thou think me ?
How sweet and musical the name of Alvar! The accomplice and sworn friend of Isidore. Then, then, Ordonio, he was dear to thee,
And thou wert dear to him ; Heaven only knows I know him not.
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?
And weep forgiveness ! Lidore ? Isidore ?
Spirit of the dead! Good! good! that lie! by heaven it has restored me. Methinks I know thee! ha! my brain turns wild Now I am thy master! Villain! thou shalt drink it, At ils own dreams!-off_off, fantastic shadow! Or die a bitterer death.
I fain would tell thee what I am! but dare not! What strange solution Hast thou found out to satisfy thy fears,
Cheat! villain! traitor! whatsoever thou bem And drug them to unnatural sleep?
I fear thee, man! [ALVAR takes the goblet, and throwing u to the ground TERESA (rushing out and falling on Alvar's neck). with slern contempl.
Ordonio! 't is thy brother.
[ORDONIO with frantic wildness runs upon ALVAR
with his sword. TERESA flings herself on Thou mountebank!
ORDONIO and arrests his arm.
Stop, madman, stop. Mountebank and villain ! What then art thou ? For shame, put up thy sword !|
Does then this thin disguise impenetrably What boots a weapon in a wither'd arm?
Hide Alvar from thee? Toil and painful wounds I fix mine eye upon thee, and thou tremblest! I speak, and fear and wonder crush thy rage,
And long imprisonment in unwholesome dungeons, And turn it to a motionless distraction!
Have marr'd perhaps all trait and lineament
Of what I was ! But chiefly, chiefly, brother,
My anguish for thy guilt!
Ordonio_Brother! For all thy human brethren-out upon them!
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 peace ?
countenance of at once awe and terror). Cured thee of starting in thy sleep? or made
Touch me not! The darkness pleasant when thou wakest at midnight? Touch not pollution, Alvar! I will die. Art happy when alone? Canst walk by thyself [He attempts to fall on his sword : Alvar and TERESA With even step and quiet cheerfulness?
prevent him. Yet, yet thou mayest be saved —
Saved ? saved ? Oh live, Ordonio! for our father's sake!
Spare his gray hairs !
One pang! Could I call up one pang of true Remorse!
And you may yet be happy.
O horror! not a thousand years in heaven
Live! Live! Why yes ! 't were well to live with you:
My brother! I will kneel to you, my brother! Can blow away a desolate widow's curse!
(Kneeling. And though thou spill thy boart's blood for atonement, Forgive me, Alvar Curse me with forgiveness ! It will not weigh against an orphan's tear! ALVAR (almost overcome by his feelings).
Call back thy soul, Ordonio, and look round thee : But Alvar
Now is the time for greatness! Think that HeavenORDONIO.
Ha! it chokes thee in throat, O mark his eye! he ars not what you say. Even thee; and yet I pray thee speak it out!
OR DONIO (pointing at the vacancy). Still Alvar! Alvar!-howl it in mine ear,
Yes, mark his eye! there's fascination in it! Heap it like coals of fire upon my heart,
Thou saidst thou didst not know him-That is he! And shoot it hissing through my brain!
He comes upon me!
Heal, O heal him, Heaven' That day when thou didst leap from off the rock
ORDONIO. Into the waves, and grasp'd thy sinking brother, Nearer and nearer! and I cannot stir! And bore him to the strand : then, son of Valdez, Will no one hear these stifled groans, and wake me
He would have died to save me, and I kill'd him- She hath avenged the blood of Isidore !
I stood in silence like a slave before her,
That I might taste the wormwood and the gall, Some secret poison
And satiate this self-accusing heart Drinks up his spirits !
With bitterer agonies than death can give.
Forgive me, Alvar!.
Oh! couldst thou forget me! (Dies
ALHADRA (to the Moors). And be myself alone my own sore torment! I thank thee, Heaven! thou hast ordain'd it wisely, [The doors of the dungeon are broken open, and in That still extremes bring their own cure. That point rush ALHADRA, and the band of MORESCOES. In misery, which makes the oppressed Man
Regardless of his own life, makes him too Seize first that man!
Lord of the Oppressor's—Knew I a hundred men [Alvar presses onward to defend ORDONIO. This arm should shake the Kingdoms of the World,
Despairing, but not palsied by despair,
The deep foundations of iniquity Off, ruffians! I have flung away my sword. Should sink away, earth groaning from beneath them; Woman, my life is thine! to thee I give it! The strong-holds of the cruel men should fall, Off! he that touches me with his hand of flesh,
Their Temples and their mountainous Towers should I'll rend his limbs asunder! I have strength
fall; With this bare arm to scatter you like ashes. Till Desolation seem'd a beautiful thing,
And all that were, and had the Spirit of Life, My husband
Sang a new song to her who had gone forth,
Conquering and still to conquer!
(ALHADRA hurries off with the Moors ; the stage fills
with armed Peasants and Serrants, ZULIMEZ ALVAR and TERESA.
and Valdez at their head. VALDEZ rushes into O horrible!
Flow in unmingled stream through thy first blessing I would have stood far off, quiet though dark,
[Both kneel to VALDEZ And bade the race of men raise up a mourning For a deep horror of desolation,
My Son! My Alvar! bless, Oh bless him, Heaven!
Me too, my Father?
Bless, Oh bless my children!
(Both rise. 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 Were ominous. In these strange dread events
Delights so full, if unalloy'd with grief, thence!
Just Heaven instructs us with an awful voice,
That Conscience rules us e'en against our choice. He doth repent! See, see, I kneel to thee!
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! [Shouts from the distance of, Rescue! Rescue! Still bids, Remember! and still cries, Too late ! Alvar! Alvar! and the voice of VALDEZ heard. 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, ORDONIO.
not so much as explanatory of the picture of the
Away! assassination, as (if I may say so without disrespect Brave not my father's rage! I thank thee! Thou to the Public) to gratify my own feelings, the passage [Then turning his eyes languidly l0 ALVAR. being no mere fancy portrait ; but a slighı, yet not
unfaithful profile of one,* who still lives, nobilitate felis, arte clarior, vitâ colendissimus.
ZULIMEZ (speaking of Alvar in the third person).
SELMA. My husband's father told it me, Poor old Sesina-angels rest his soul! He was a woodman, and could fell and saw With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam Which props the hanging wall of the old Chapel ? Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree, He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, And reared him at the then Lord Valdez' cost. And so the babe grew up a pretty boy, A pretty boy, but most unteachableHe never learnt a prayer, nor told a bead, But knew the names of birds, and mock'd their notes, And whistled, as he were a bird himself: And all the autumn 't was his only play To gather seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them With earth and water on the stumps of trees. A Friar, who gather'd simples in the wood, A gray hair'd man, he loved this little boy: The boy loved him, and, when the friar taught him, He soon could write with the pen; and from that time Lived chiefly at the Convent or the Castle, So he became a rare and learned youth: But O! poor wretch! he read, and read, and read, Till his brain turn'd; and ere his twentieth year He had unlawful thoughts of many things: And though he pray'd, he never loved to pray With holy men, nor in a holy place. But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, The late Lord Valdez ne'er was wearied with him. And once, as by the north side of the chapel They stood together, chain'd in deep discourse, The earth heaved under them with such a groan, That the wall totter'd, and had well-nigh fallen Right on their beads. My Lord was sorely frightend, A fever seized him, and he made confession Of all the heretical and lawless talk Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seized. And cast into that hole. My husband's father Sobb'd like a child-it almost broke his heart: And once as he was working near this dungeon, He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's, Who sung a doleful song about green fields, How sweet it were on lake or wide savanna To hunt for food, and be a naked man, And wander up and down at liberty. He always doted on the youth, and now His love grew desperate; and defying death, He made that cunning entrance I described, And the young man escaped.
Tis a sweet tale: Such as would lull a listening child to sleep, His rosy face besoil'd with unwiped tears. And what became of him?
Note 2, page 89, col. 1. The following Scene, as unfit for the stage, was taken from the Tragedy, in the year 1797, and published in the Lyrical Ballads. But this work having been lung out of print, I have been advised to reprint it, as a Note to the second Scene of Act the Fourth, p. 69.
Enter TERESA and SELMA.
TERESA. 'Tis said, he spake of you familiarly, As mine and Alvar's common foster-mother.
SELMA. Now blessings on the man, whoe'er he be, That join'd your names with mine! O my sweet Lady, As often as I think of those dear times, When you two little ones would stand, at eve, On each side of my chair, and make me learn All you had learnt in the day; and how to talk In gentle phrase; then bid me sing to you'Tis more like heaven to come, than what has been!
He went on shipboard With those bold voyagers who made discovery or golden lands. Sesina's younger brother Went likewise, and when he return'd to Spain, He told Sesina, that the poor mad youth, Soon after they arrived in that new world, In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat, And all alone set sail by silent moonlight Up a great river, great as any sea, And ne'er was heard of more: but 't is supposed, He lived and died among the savage men.