Ter. Traitress! (then aside.)

What sudden spell o'ermasters me?

Why seeks he me, shunning the Moorish woman?
Alv. I dream'd I had a friend, on whom I lean'd
With blindest trust, and a betrothed maid,

Whom I was wont to call not mine, but me:
For mine own self seem'd nothing, lacking her.
This maid so idolized, that trusted friend
Dishonoured in my absence, soul and body!
Fear, following guilt, tempted to blacker guilt,
And murderers were suborned against my life.
But by my looks, and most impassioned words,
I roused the virtues that are dead in no man,
Even in the assassins' hearts! they made their terms,
And thanked me for redeeming them from murder.
Alh. You are lost in thought: hear him no more,
sweet lady!

Ter. From morn to night I am myself a dreamer,
And slight things bring on me the idle mood!
Well, sir, what happened then?

Alv.
On a rude rock,
A rock, methought, fast by a grove of firs,
Whose thready leaves to the low-breathing gale
Made a soft sound most like the distant ocean,
I staid, as though the hour of death were passed,
And I were sitting in the world of spirits-
For all things seemed unreal! there I sate-
The dews fell clammy, and the night descended,
Black, sultry, close! and ere the midnight hour
A storm came on, mingling all sounds of fear,

That woods, and sky, and mountains, seemed one

havoc.

The second flash of lightning showed a tree
Hard by me, newly scathed. I rose tumultuous:
My soul worked high, I bared my head to the storm,
And with loud voice and clamorous agony,

Kneeling I prayed to the great Spirit that made me,
Prayed, that remorse might fasten on their hearts,
And cling with poisonous tooth, inextricable

As the gored lion's bite!

Ter.

A fearful curse!

Alh. But dream'd you not that you returned and

killed them?

Dream'd you of no revenge?

Alv.

She would have died,

Died in her guilt-perchance by her own hands!
And bending o'er her self-inflicted wounds,

I might have met the evil glance of frenzy,
And leapt myself into an unblest grave!

I prayed for the punishment that cleanses hearts:
For still I loved her!

Alh.

And you dream'd all this? Ter. My soul is full of visions all as wild! Alh. There is no room in this heart for puling love tales.

Ter. (lifts up her veil, and advances to Alvar.) Stranger, farewell! I guess not who you are,

Nor why you so addressed your tale to me.
Your mien is noble, and, I own, perplexed me
With obscure memory of something past,

Which still escaped my efforts, or presented
Tricks of a fancy pampered with long wishing.
If, as it sometimes happens, our rude startling,
Whilst your full heart was shaping out its dream,
Drove you to this, your not ungentle wildness—
You have my sympathy, and so farewell!
But if some undiscovered wrongs oppress you,
And you need strength to drag them into light,
The generous Valdez, and my Lord Ordonio,
Have arm and will to aid a noble sufferer,
Nor shall you want my favourable pleading.

[Exeunt Teresa and Alhadra. Alv. (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 sad she looked, 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 stained her honour;
Ah! there I am hampered. 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!
And she referred to me-fondly, methought!
Could she walk here if she had been a traitress?
Here, where we played together in our childhood?

Here, where we plighted vows? where her cold

cheek

Received my last kiss, when with suppressed feelings She had fainted in my arms? It cannot be ! "Tis not in nature! I will die believing,

That I shall meet her where no evil is,

No treachery, no cup dashed from the lips.

I'll haunt this scene no more! live she in peace! Her husband-aye her husband! May this angel New mould his canker'd heart! Assist me, heaven, That I may pray for my poor guilty brother! [Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I-A wild and mountainous Country. Ordonio and Isidore are discovered, supposed at a little distance from Isidore's house.

Ord. Here we may stop: your house distinct in view,

Yet we secured from listeners.

Isid.

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! 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.

Ord.

Why this to me!

Good Isidore!

It is enough, you know it.

Isid. A common trick of gratitude, my lord, Seeking to ease her own full heart

4

Ord.

A debt repaid ceases to be a debt.

Enough!

You have it in your power to serve me greatly.

Isid. And how, my lord? I pray you to name

the thing.

I would climb up an ice-glazed precipice

To pluck a weed you fancied!

Ord.

Why-that-lady

Isid. "Tis now three years, my lord, since last I

saw you:

Have you a son, my lord?

Ord.

O miserable-[aside.

Isidore! you are a man, and know mankind.

I told you what I wished-now for the truth-
She loved the man you kill'd.

Isid.

You jest, my lord?

Ord. And till his death is proved she will not

wed me.

Isid. You sport with me, my lord?

Ord.

Come, come! this foolery

Lives only in thy looks, thy heart disowns it!

Isid. I can bear this, and any thing more grievous