Oh miserable! by that lamp to see

My infant quarrelling with the coarse hard bread
Brought daily for the little wretch was sickly-
My rage had dried away its natural food.
In darkness I remain'd-the dull bell counting,
Which haply told me, that the all-cheering Sun
Was rising on our garden. When I dozed,
My infant's moanings mingled with my slumbers
And waked me.-If you were a mother, Lady,
I should scarce dare to tell you, that its noises
And peevish cries so fretted on my brain
That I have struck the innocent babe in anger.
Ter. O Heaven! it is too horrible to hear.

Alh. What was it then to suffer? 'Tis most right
That such as you should hear it.-Know you not,
What Nature makes you mourn, she bids heal?
Great Evils ask great Passions to redress them,
And Whirlwinds fitliest scatter Pestilence.

Ter. You were at length released?

Alh.

you

Yes, at length

I saw the blessed arch of the whole heaven!

"T was the first time my infant smiled. No more— For if I dwell upon that moment, Lady,

A trance comes on which makes me o'er again
All I then was-my knees hang loose and drag,
And my lip falls with such an idiot laugh,

That you would start and shudder!

Ter.

But your

husband

Alh. A month's imprisonment would kill him, Lady.
Ter. Alas, poor man!

Alh.

He hath a lion's courage,

Fearless in act, but feeble in endurance;
Unfit for boisterous times, with gentle heart
He worships Nature in the hill and valley,
Not knowing what he loves, but loves it all--

Enter ALVAR disguised as a MORESCO, and in

Moorish garments.

Ter. Know you that stately Moor?

Alh.

I know him not:

But doubt not he is some Moresco chieftain,

Who hides himself among the Alpuxarras.

Ter. The Alpuxarras? Does he know his danger, So near this seat?

Alh.

He wears the Moorish robes too,

As in defiance of the royal edict.

[Alhadra advances to Alvar, who has walked to the back of the stage near the rocks. Teresa drops her veil.

Alh. Gallant Moresco! An inquisitor,

Monviedro, of known hatred to our race

Alvar (interrupting her). You have mistaken me. I am a Christian.

Alh. He deems, that we are plotting to ensnare

him:

Speak to him, Lady-none can hear you speak,

And not believe you innocent of guile.

Ter. If aught enforce you to concealment, Sir—— Alh. He trembles strangely.

[Alvar sinks down and hides his face in his robe. Ter. See, we have disturb'd him.

[Approaches nearer to him.

I pray you think us friends-uncowl your face,

For you seem faint, and the night breeze blows healing. I pray you think us friends!

Alvar (raising his head). Calm, very calm!

'Tis all too tranquil for reality!

And she spoke to me with her innocent voice,

That voice, that innocent voice! She is no traitress ! Ter. Let us retire. (Haughtily to Alhadra).

[They advance to the front of the Stage.

B

Alhadra (with scorn). He is indeed a Christian. Alvar (aside). She deems me dead. yet wears no mourning garment!

Why should my brother's-wife- wear mourning

garments?

[To Teresa.

Your pardon, noble dame! that I disturb'd you:

I had just started from a frightful dream.

Ter. Dreams tell but of the Past, and yet, 't is

said,

They prophecy—

Alv.

The Past lives o'er again

In its effects, and to the guilty spirit

The ever-frowning Present is its image.
Ter. Traitress! (Then aside).

What sudden spell o'ermasters me? Why seeks he me, shunning the Moorish woman? [Teresa looks round uneasily, but gradually becomes attentive as Alvar proceeds in the next speech.

Alv. I dreamt I had a friend, on whom I leant 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 Dishonor'd in my absence, soul and body! Fear, following guilt, tempted to blacker guilt, life. And murderers were suborn'd against my But by my looks, and most impassion'd words, I roused the virtues that are dead in no man, Even in the assassins' hearts! they made their terms, And thank'd 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 happen'd 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 stay'd as though the hour of death were pass'd,
And I were sitting in the world of spirits-
For all things seem'd 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, seem'd one
havoc.

The second flash of lightning show'd a tree
Hard by me, newly scathed. I rose tumultuous:
My soul work'd high, I bared my head to the storm,
And, with loud voice and clamorous agony,
Kneeling I pray'd to the great Spirit that made me,
Pray'd that REMORSE might fasten on their hearts,
And cling with poisonous tooth, inextricable

As the gored lion's bite !

Ter. (shuddering).

A fearful curse!

Alh. (fiercely). But dreamt you not that you return'd and kill'd them?

Alv. (his voice trembling, and in tones of deep distress).

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 e!

I pray'd for the punishment that cleanseth hearts:
For still loved her!

Ter. My soul is full of visions all as wild!

Alh. There is no room in this heart for puling lovetales.

Teresa (lifts up her veil, and advances to Alvar).
Stranger, farewell! I guess not who you are,
Nor why you so address'd your tale to me.
Your mien is noble, and I own, perplex'd me
With obscure memory of something past,
Which still escaped my efforts, or presented
Tricks of a fancy pamper'd 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 undiscover'd 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 favorable pleading.
[Exeunt Teresa and Alhadra.
Alv. (alone). 'T is strange! It cannot be !
Ordonio !

Her Lord Ordonio! Nay, I will not do it!
I cursed him once-and one curse is enough!

my

Lord

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 honour;
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?