Ter.

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.

Val.

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

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. I

Ter. 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

Val. (looking forward). Hush! 't is Monviedro. Ter. 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, 't is he

Enter from the opposite side Don ORDONIO.

My Lord Ordonio, this Moresco woman

(Alhadra is her name) asks audience of you.

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

Monv. 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,
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 honour
The Holy Church regards her faithful soldiers,
Thus far prevail'd with me that-

Órd.

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.

Monv.

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.

Alh. 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.

Monv.

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!

[Teresa looks at Monviedro with disgust and horror. Ordonio's appearance to be collected from what follows.

Monviedro (to Valdez, and pointing at Ordonio). What is he ill, my Lord? how strange he looks! Val. (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? that even now the thought

Should force itself upon me?--Yet I feel it!

Monv. 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.

Ter. Stay, father! stay! my Lord will soon recover. Ordonio (as they return, to Valdez). Strange, that this Monviedro

Should have the power so to distemper me!
Val. Nay, 't was an amiable weakness, son!
Monv. My Lord, I truly grieve-
Tut! name it not.

Ord.

A sudden seizure, father! think not of it,

As to this woman's husband, I do know him.
I know him well, and that he is a Christian.

Monv. I hope, my Lord, your merely human pity Doth not prevail

Ord. 'T is 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.

Monv.

Your zeal, my Lord, And your late merits in this holy warfare, Would authorise an ampler trust-you have it. Ord. I will attend you home within an hour. Val. Meantime, return with us and take refresh

ment.

Alh. Not till my husband's free! I may not do it. I will stay here.

Ter. (aside).

Val.

Who is this Isidore?

Daughter!

Ter. With your permission, my dear Lord,

I'll loiter yet awhile t' enjoy the sea breeze.

[Exeunt Valdez, Monviedro, and Ordonio. Alh. 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.

Alh. These fell inquisitors! these sons of blood! As I came on, his face so madden'd me, That ever and anon I clutch'd my dagger And half unsheathed it

Ter.

Be more calm, I pray you.

Alh. And as he walked along the narrow path Close by the mountain's edge, my soul grew eager; 'T was 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!

Ter.

Where is your woman's heart?

Alh.

Hush! hush for shame!

O gentle lady!

You have no skill to guess my many wrongs,
Many and strange! Besides (ironically), I am a Chris-

tian,

And Christians never pardon-'t is their faith!

Ter. Shame fall on those who so have shown it to

thee!

Alh. I know that man: 't is well he knows not

me.

Five years ago (and he was the prime agent),

Five years ago the holy brethren seized me.

Ter. What might your crime be?

Ath. I was a Moresco! They cast me, then a young and nursing mother, Into a dungeon of their prison-house, Where was no bed, no fire, no ray of light, No touch, no sound of comfort! The black air, It was a toil to breathe it! when the door, Slow opening at the appointed hour, disclosed One human countenance, the lamp's red flame Cower'd as it enter'd, and at once sunk down.