Tied round my neck with many a chaste endearment.
And thrilling hands, that made me weep and tremble-
Ah, coward dupe! to yield it to the miscreant,
Who spake pollution of thee! barter for Life

This farewell Pledge, which with impassion'd Vow
I had sworn that I would grasp-ev'n in my deathpang!
I am unworthy of thy love, Teresa,

Of that unearthly smile upon those lips,

Which ever smiled on me! Yet do not scorn me-
I lisp'd thy name, ere I had learnt my mother's.
Dear Portrait! rescued from a traitor's keeping,
I will not now profane thee, holy Image,

To a dark trick. That worst bad man shall find
A picture, which will wake the hell within him,
And rouse a fiery whirlwind in his conscience.

ACT III.

SCENE. I.-A Hall of Armory, with an Altar at the back of the Stage. Soft Music from an instrument of Glass or Steel.

VALDEZ, ORDONIO, and ALVAR in a Sorcerer's robe, are discovered.

Ord. This was two melancholy, father.
Val.

Nay,

My Alvar loved sad music from a child.
Once he was lost; and after weary search
We found him in an open place in the wood,
To which spot he had follow'd a blind boy,
Who breathed into a pipe of sycamore
Some strangely moving notes: and these, he said,
Were taught him in a dream, Him we first saw
Stretch'd on the broad top of a sunny heath-bank:
And lower down poor Alvar, fast asieep,

His head upon the blind boy's dog. It pleased me
To mark how he had fasten'd round the pipe
A silver toy his grandam had late given him.
Methinks I see him now as he then look'd-
Even so!-He had outgrown his infant dress,
Yet still he wore it.

Alv.

My tears must not flow!
I must not clasp his knees, and cry, My father!
Enter TERESA, and Attendants.

Ter. Lord Valdez, you have ask'd my presence here, And I submit; but (Heaven bear witness for me) My heart approves it not! 'tis mockery.

Ord. Believe you then no preternatural influence? Believe you not that spirits throng around us? Ter. Say rather that I have imagined it A possible thing: and it has soothed my soul As other fancies have; but ne'er seduced me To traffic with the black and frenzied hope That the dead hear the voice of witch or wizard.

(To Alvar.) Stranger, I mourn and blush to see you here On such employment! With far other thoughts

I left you.

Ord. (aside). Ha! he has been tampering with her! Alv. O high-soul'd maiden! and more dear to me Than suits the Stranger's name!

I will uncover all concealed guilt.

I swear to thee

Doubt, but decide not! Stand ye from the altar.

[Here a strain of music is heard from behind the

scene.

Alv. With no irreverent voice or uncouth charm I call up the Departed!

Soul of Alvar !

Hear our soft suit, and heed my milder spell; may the Gates of Paradise, unbarr'd.

So

Cease thy swift toils ! since haply thou art one
Of that innumerable company

Who in broad circle, lovelier than the rainbow,
Girdle this round earth in a dizzy motion,
With noise too vast and constant to be heard:
Fitliest unheard! For oh, ye numberless
And rapid travellers! What ear unstunn'd,
What sense unmadden'd, might bear up against
The rushing of your congregated wings? [Music.
Even now your living wheel turn o'er my head!
[Music expressive of the movements and images
that follow.

Ye, as ye pass, toss high the desert sands,
That roar and whiten, like a burst of waters,
A sweet appearance, but a dread illusion
To the parched caravan that roams by night!
And ye build upon the becalmed waves

That whirling pillar, which from Earth to Heaven
Stands vast, and moves in blackness! Ye too split
The ice mount! and with fragments many and huge
Tempest the new-thaw'd sea, whose sudden gulfs
Suck in, perchance, some Lapland wizard skiff!
Then round and round the whirlpool's marge ye

dance,

Till from the blue swoln Corse the Soul toils out,
And joins your mighty Army.

[Here behind the scenes a voice sings the thres
words, "Hear, sweet Spirit."

Soul of Alvar!

Hear the mild spell, and tempt no blacker Charm!
Bv sighs unquiet, and the sickly pang
Of a half dead, yet still undying Hope,
Pass visible before our mortal sense!

So shall the Church's cleansing rites be thune,
He knells and masses that redeem the Dead!

SONG,

Behind the Scenes, accompanied by the rame Instrument as before,

Hear, sweet spirit, hear the spell,
Lest a blacker charm compel !

So shall the midnight breezes swell
With thy deep long-lingering knell.

And at evening evermore,

In a Chapel on the shore,

Shall the Chanters sad and saintly,
Yellow tapers burning faintly,
Doleful Masses chant for thee,

Misererc Domine !

Hark! the cadence dies away

On the yellow moonlight sea:

The boatmen rest their oars and say,

Miserere Domine !

[A long pause.

Ord. The innocent obey nor charm nor spell! My brother is in heaven. Thou sainted spirit, Burst on our sight, a passing visitant!

Once more to hear thy voice, once more to see thee, O't were a joy to me!

Alv.

A joy to thee!

What if thou heard'st him now! What if his spirit,
Re-enter'd its cold corse, and came upon thee
With many a stab from many a murderer's poniard ?
What if (his stedfast Eye still beaming Pity,
And Brother's love) he turn'd his head aside,
Lest he should look at thee, and with one look
Hurl thee beyond all power of Penitence?
Val. These are unholy fancies!

Ord. (struggling with his feelings). Yes, my father, He is in Heaven!

Alv. (still to Ordonio). But what if he had a bro

ther,

Who had lived even so, that at his dying hour

The name of Heaven would have convulsed his face, More than the death-pang?

Val. Idly prating man! Thou hast guess'd ill: Don Alvar's only brother Stands here before thee-a father's blessing on him! He is most virtuous.

Alv. (still to Ordonio). What, if his very virtues Had pamper'd his swoln heart and made him proud? And what if Pride had duped him into guilt? Yet still he stalk'd a self-created God,

Not very bold, but exquisitely cunning;

And one that at his Mother's looking-glass

Would force his features to a frowning sternness?
Young Lord! I tell thee, that there are such Beings—
Yea, and it gives fierce merriment to the damn'd,
To see these most proud men, that lothe mankind,
At every stir and buzz of coward conscience,
Trick, cant, and lie, most whining hypocrites!
Away, away! Now let me hear more music.

[Music again.

Ter. 'Tis strange, I tremble at my own conjectures ! But whatsoe'er it mean, I dare no longer

Be present at these lawless mysteries,

This dark provoking of the Hidden Powers!
Already I affront-if not high Heaven-

Yet Alvar's Memory !-Hark! I make appeal
Against the unholy rite, and hasten hence

To bend before a lawful shrine, and seek

That voice which whispers, when the still heart listens, Comfort and faithful Hope! Let us retire.

Alv. (to Teresa anxiously). O full of faith and guileless love, thy Spirit