LINENOTES:

Before [1]: ACT THE FIRST (The Portrait and the Picture). Corr. in MS. III.

[Scene]—The sea shore, &c.] Scene—The Sea shore on the coast of Granada, in the Seigniory of the Marquis Valdez. Valdez Teresa corr. in MS. III. [For Velez, Maria, Osorio, Albert, Francesco, read Valdez, Teresa, Ordonio, Alvar, Isidore throughout, Remorse.

Before [1], Scene II.: Enter Teresa and Valdez. Remorse.

Osorio] Ordoño] corr. in MS. II.

[[2]]

Albert's] Garcia's corr. in MS. III.

[[12]]

mine] my Remorse, 1813.

[[29]]

him] him Remorse.

[[40]]

Or hover round, as he at midnight oft Remorse.

[[50]]

my] my Remorse. Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[51-2]]

Erased MS. III.

[[52-3]]

Valdez. A thought? even so! mere thought! an empty thought.
The very week he promised his return—

Remorse.

an empty thought
That boasts no neighbourhood with Hope or Reason

Corr. in MS. III.

[[54-7]]

Ter. Was it not then a busy joy? to see him,
After those three years' travels! we had no fears—
The frequent tidings, the ne'er failing letter,
Almost endeared his absence! yet the gladness,
The tumult of our joy! What then, if now—

Marginal correction in MS. III, Remorse.

[[60]]

dreams] fancies Remorse.

[[61]]

Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[62-8]]

Erased MS. III.

[[62-73]]

Vald. The sober truth is all too much for me!
I see no sail which brings not to my mind
The home-bound bark, in which my son was captured
By the Algerine—to perish with his captors!

Ter. Oh no! he did not!

Vald. Captured in sight of land!
From yon Hill-point, nay, from our castle watch-tower
We might have seen—

Ter. His capture, not his death.

Vald. Alas! how aptly thou forgett'st a tale
Thou ne'er didst wish to learn! my brave Ordonio
Saw both the pirate and his prize go down,
In the same storm that baffled his own valour,
And thus twice snatched a brother from his hopes.

Marginal correction in MS. III, Remorse.

[[74]]

Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[76]]

And most delight his spirit, go, make thou Remorse.

[[78]]

with] in Remorse.

[[93]]

my father] Lord Valdez Remorse.

[[96]]

dream] hear Remorse.

[[101-5]]

Erased MS. III.

Vald. (looking forward). Hush! 'tis Monviedro.

Ter. The Inquisitor—on what new scent of blood?

Enter Monviedro with Alhadra.

Mon. Peace and the truth be with you! Good my Lord.
My present need is with your son.
We have hit the time. Here comes he! Yes, 'tis he.

Enter from the opposite side Don Ordonio

My Lord Ordonio, this Moresco woman

MS. III, Remorse.

[[108]]

Erased MS. III.

[[109]]

The] Our MS. III.

[[108-31]]

Mon. 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.
Tho' lesson'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 prevailed with me that—

Ord. 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.

Mon. My mind foretold me
That such would be the event. In truth, Lord Valdez,
'Twas 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 warranter of a Moresco's faith!

Remorse.

[[114]]

Have learnt by heart their falsehoods to gain time. Corr. in MS. III.

[[118-20]]

who (you know, &c., . . . with her Erased MS. III. The stage-direction (Alhadra here advances towards Ordonio) is inserted at the end of Francesco's speech.

[[127-8]]

om. MS. III.

[[133]]

Is Isidore. (Ordonio starts) Remorse.

[[135]]

Stage-direction (triumphantly) om. Remorse.

[[138-9]]

You were at sea, and there engaged the pirates,
The murderers doubtless of your brother Alvar!

Remorse.

[[139]]

The stage-direction Maria looks, &c., om. Remorse.

[[140]]

Francesco (. . . Osorio) om. Remorse.

[[141]]

Val. You pressed upon him too abruptly father Remorse.

[[143]]

Ord. O heavens! I?—I doted?—Remorse. Stage-directions (starting, &c.), (Then, as, &c.) om. Remorse.

Before [144] stage direction ends at 'follows' Remorse.

[[144]]

Stage-direction (her eye, &c.) om. Remorse.

[[151]]

Till that] Until Remorse.

Stage-direction before [154] om. Remorse.

[[154]]

Ordonio (as they return to Valdez). Remorse.

[[157]]

Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[159]]

do] do Remorse.

[[161]]

I hope, my lord, your merely human pity MS. III, Remorse.

[[162-72]]

Nay, nay . . . Ferdinand om. Remorse.

[[173]]

was] was Remorse.

[[176]]

Myself I'll sift him Remorse.

[[178]]

[Francesco's speech 'My lord you have it' is thus expanded]:—

Monviedro. Your zeal, my lord,
And your late merits in this holy warfare
Would authorize an ampler trust—you have it.

Remorse.

[[179]]

Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[180]]

Attributed to Valdez in Remorse.

[[184]]

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

[[186]]

The stage-direction, Alhadra had been, &c., was interpolated by S. T. C. in MS. III, and 'distrustful' is written 'mistrustful'. It is omitted in Remorse.

[[187]]

The line was originally written:—

Nay, nay, not hate him. I try not to do it;

and in this form it stands in the Poole MS. MSS. II, III have the line as amended, but have also this stage-direction '(perceiving that Alhadra is conscious she has spoken imprudently)'; and MS. II has the word me underlined.

Oh fear not me! my heart is sad for you

Remorse.

[[188]]

In Poole MS. this line was originally—

These wolfish Priests! these lappers-up of Blood.

[[192]]

stalk'd] walk'd Remorse.

[[193]]

on] by Remorse.

[[195]]

Interpolated by S. T. C.

That his vile Slaves, his pitiless officers
Held in their custody my babes and husband.

MS. III.

[[195]]

foul officers] familiars Remorse.

[[197]]

ragged] rugged Remorse.

[[201]]

'(ironically)' only in MS. II.

[[202]]

And they do] And Christians Remorse.

[[207]]

Solely my complexion] I was a Moresco Remorse.

[[210]]

There] Where Remorse.

[[212-14]]

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
Cowered as it entered, and at once sank down

Remorse.

[[219]]

the dull bell counting Remorse.

[[220]]

blessed] all-cheering. Remorse.

[[221]]

my] our Remorse.

[[222]]

dreams] slumbers Remorse.

[[227]]

God] Heaven Remorse.

[[233]]

deliver'd] released Corr. in MS. III, Remorse.

[[237]]

fit] trance Remorse.

[[243]]

Fearless in act, but feeble in endurance Corr. in MS. III, Remorse.

[[247-9]]

MS. III erased: om. Remorse.

Between [249-50]

Teresa. (starting). This sure must be the man (to Alhadra)
Know you that man?

Corr. in MS. III.

Between [250] and 263

Ter. Know you that stately Moor?

Alhad. I know him not:
But doubt not he is some Moresco chieftain,
Who hides himself among the Alpujarras.

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

Alhad. 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.

Alhad. Gallant Moresco! An inquisitor,
Monviedro, of known hatred to our race—

Remorse.

[[254-7]]

His ends, his motives, why he shrinks from notice
And spurns all commune with the Moorish chieftain,
Baffles conjecture—

Corr. in MS. III.

Before stage-direction affixed to [259].

Teresa. Ask of him whence he came? if he bear tidings
Of any Christian Captive—if he knows—

Corr. in MS. III.

[[259]]

Philip the Second had forbidden under pain of death the Moorish Robes MS. II: Phillip (sic) the Second had prohibited under pain of death all the Moorish customs and garments MS. III.

[[262]]

the creature] a brother Corr. in MS. III.

[[263]]

Albert (retiring)] advancing as if to pass them Corr. in MS. III. Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[264]]

Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[266]]

Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[275-6]]

om. Remorse.

[[277]]

Stage-direction They advance . . . followed by Alvar Corr. in MS. III: om. Remorse.

[[277]]

Alhadra (with bitter scorn). Corr. in MS. III.

[[278-80]]

om. Remorse.

Prefixed to [279]. Alhadra walks away to the back of the stage, to the part where Alvar had first placed himself, stoops in the act of taking up a small Picture, looks at it and in dumb show appears as talking to herself. Corr. in MS. III.

[[279-80]]

Maria. This cannot be the Moor the Peasant spoke of
Nor face, nor stature squares with his description.

Alhadra. A painted tablet which he held and por'd on
Caught my eye strangely, and as I disturb'd him
He hid it hastily within his sash,
Yet when he started up (if my sight err'd not)
It slipt unnotic'd by him on the Sand.

Corr. in MS. III.

[[281]]

She deems me dead yet wears no mourning garments Remorse.

[[283]]

om. Remorse.

[[284]]

gentle maid] noble dame Remorse.

[[286-7]]

om. Remorse.

Between [285] and 288

Ter. Dreams tell but of the past, and yet, 'tis said
They prophesy—

Alv. The Past lives o'er again
In its effects, and to the guilty spirit,
The ever frowning [guilty MS. III] Present is its image.

Ter. Traitress! [guilty MS. III] (then aside)
What sudden spell o'er-masters me?
Why seeks he me, shunning the Moorish woman.

Corr. in MS. III: Remorse.

[[293]]

Polluted] Dishonour'd MS. III, Remorse. [In MS. III S. T. C. substituted 'Polluted' for 'Dishonoured.'

[[294-5]]

Fear, following guilt, tempted to blacker guilt,
And murderers were suborned against my life

Remorse.

Affixed to [296] During this speech Alhadra returns, and unobserved by Alvar and Teresa scans the picture, and in dumb show compares it with the countenance of Alvar. Then conceals it in her robe. MS. III.

[[300]]

Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[305]]

threaddy] thready Remorse.

[[322]]

him] them Remorse.

[[323]]

Stage-direction om. Remorse.

[[324]]

sins] guilt Remorse.

[[330]]

all is] all as MS. III, Remorse.

[[332]]

MS. III erased.

[[332]]

foll.

Alhadra (aside).

I must reserve all knowledge of this Table
Till I can pierce the mystery of the slander—
Form, Look, Features,—the scar below the Temple
All, all are Isidore's—and the whole Picture— (then to Alvar.)
On matter of concerning Import . . .
. . . I would discourse with you:
Thou hast ta'en up thy sojourn in the Dell,
Where Zagri liv'd—who dar'd avow the Prophet,
And died like one of the Faithful—there expect me.

Addition on margin of MS. III.

[[332]]

om. Remorse.

[[340]]

While] Whilst Remorse.

[[359]]

Interpolated by S. T. C. MS. III.

[[363]]

Could she walk here, if she had been a traitress Remorse.

ACT THE SECOND

Scene the First.—A wild and mountainous country. Osorio and Ferdinand are discovered at a little distance from a house, which stands under the brow of a slate rock, the rock covered with vines.

Ferdinand and Osorio.

Ferdinand. Thrice you have sav'd 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 [5]
Had pillow'd my snapt joints.

Osorio. Good Ferdinand!
Why this to me? It is enough you know it.

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

Osorio. Enough.
A debt repay'd ceases to be a debt. [10]
You have it in your power to serve me greatly.

Ferdinand. As how, my lord? I pray you name the thing!
I would climb up an ice-glaz'd precipice
To pluck a weed you fancied.

Osorio (with embarrassment and hesitation). Why—that—lady—

Ferdinand. 'Tis now three years, my lord! since last I saw you. [15]
Have you a son, my lord?

Osorio. O miserable! [Aside.
Ferdinand! you are a man, and know this world.
[[536]] I told you what I wish'd—now for the truth!
She lov'd the man you kill'd!

Ferdinand (looking as suddenly alarmed). You jest, my lord?

Osorio. And till his death is proved, she will not wed me. [20]

Ferdinand. You sport with me, my lord?

Osorio. Come, come, this foolery
Lives only in thy looks—thy heart disowns it.

Ferdinand. I can bear this, and anything more grievous
From you, my lord!—but how can I serve you here?

Osorio. Why, you can mouth set speeches solemnly, [25]
Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics.

[Ferdinand. I am dull, my lord! I do not comprehend you.

Osorio. In blunt terms] you can play the sorcerer.
She has no faith in Holy Church, 'tis true.
Her lover school'd her in some newer nonsense: [30]
Yet still a tale of spirits works on her.
She is a lone enthusiast, sensitive,
Shivers, and cannot keep the tears in her eye.
Such ones do love the marvellous too well
Not to believe it. We will wind her up 35
With a strange music, that she knows not of,
With fumes of frankincense, and mummery—
Then leave, as one sure token of his death,
That portrait, which from off the dead man's neck
I bade thee take, the trophy of thy conquest. [40]

Ferdinand (with hesitation). Just now I should have cursed the man who told me
You could ask aught, my lord! and I refuse.
But this I cannot do.

Osorio. Where lies your scruple?

Ferdinand. That shark Francesco.

Osorio. O! an o'ersiz'd gudgeon!
I baited, sir, my hook with a painted mitre, [45]
And now I play with him at the end of the line.
Well—and what next?

Ferdinand (stammering). Next, next—my lord!
You know you told me that the lady loved you,
Had loved you with incautious tenderness.
That if the young man, her betrothéd husband, [50]
Return'd, yourself, and she, and an unborn babe,
Must perish. Now, my lord! to be a man!

Osorio (aloud, though to express his contempt he speaks in the third person). This fellow is a man! he kill'd for hire
One whom he knew not—yet has tender scruples. [Then turning to Ferdinand.
Thy hums and ha's, thy whine and stammering. [55]
Pish—fool! thou blunder'st through the devil's book,
Spelling thy villany!

Ferdinand. My lord—my lord!
I can bear much, yes, very much from you.
But there's a point where sufferance is meanness!
I am no villain, never kill'd for hire. [60]
My gratitude——

Osorio. O! aye, your gratitude!
'Twas a well-sounding word—what have you done with it?

Ferdinand. Who proffers his past favours for my virtue
Tries to o'erreach me, is a very sharper,
[[538]] And should not speak of gratitude, my lord! [65]
I knew not 'twas your brother!

Osorio (evidently alarmed). And who told you?

Ferdinand. He himself told me.

Osorio. Ha! you talk'd with him?
And those, the two Morescoes, that went with you?

Ferdinand. Both fell in a night-brawl at Malaga.

Osorio (in a low voice). My brother!

Ferdinand. Yes, my lord! I could not tell you: 70
I thrust away the thought, it drove me wild.
But listen to me now. I pray you, listen!

Osorio. Villain! no more! I'll hear no more of it.

Ferdinand. My lord! it much imports your future safety
That you should hear it.

Osorio (turning off from Ferdinand). Am I not a man? [75]
'Tis as it should be! Tut—the deed itself
Was idle—and these after-pangs still idler!

Ferdinand. We met him in the very place you mention'd,
Hard by a grove of firs.

Osorio. Enough! enough!

Ferdinand. He fought us valiantly, and wounded all; [80]
In fine, compell'd a parley!

Osorio (sighing as if lost in thought). Albert! Brother!

Ferdinand. He offer'd me his purse.

Osorio. Yes?

Ferdinand. Yes! I spurn'd it.
He promis'd us I know not what—in vain!
Then with a look and voice which overaw'd me,
He said—What mean you, friends? My life is dear. 85
I have a brother and a promised wife
Who make life dear to me, and if I fall
That brother will roam earth and hell for vengeance.
There was a likeness in his face to yours.
I ask'd his brother's name; he said, Osorio, [90]
Son of Lord Velez! I had well-nigh fainted!
At length I said (if that indeed I said it,
And that no spirit made my tongue his organ),
That woman is now pregnant by that brother,
And he the man who sent us to destroy you, [95]
[[539]] He drove a thrust at me in rage. I told him,
He wore her portrait round his neck—he look'd
As he had been made of the rock that propp'd him back;
Ay, just as you look now—only less ghastly!
At last recovering from his trance, he threw [100]
His sword away, and bade us take his life—
It was not worth his keeping.

Osorio. And you kill'd him?
O blood-hounds! may eternal wrath flame round you!
He was the image of the Deity. [A pause.
It seizes me—by Hell! I will go on! [105]
What? would'st thou stop, man? thy pale looks won't save thee! [Then suddenly pressing his forehead.
Oh! cold, cold, cold—shot thro' with icy cold!

Ferdinand (aside). Were he alive, he had return'd ere now.
The consequence the same, dead thro' his plotting!

Osorio. O this unutterable dying away here, [110]
This sickness of the heart! [A pause.
What if I went
And liv'd in a hollow tomb, and fed on weeds?
Ay! that's the road to heaven! O fool! fool! fool! [A pause.
What have I done but that which nature destin'd
Or the blind elements stirr'd up within me? [115]
If good were meant, why were we made these beings?
And if not meant——

Ferdinand. How feel you now, my lord?

[Osorio starts, looks at him wildly, then, after a pause, during which his features are forced into a smile.

Osorio. A gust of the soul! i'faith, it overset me.
O 'twas all folly—all! idle as laughter!
Now, Ferdinand, I swear that thou shalt aid me. [120]

Ferdinand (in a low voice). I'll perish first! Shame on my coward heart,
That I must slink away from wickedness
Like a cow'd dog!

Osorio. What dost thou mutter of?

Ferdinand. Some of your servants know me, I am certain.

Osorio. There's some sense in that scruple; but we'll mask you. [125]

Ferdinand. They'll know my gait. But stay! of late I have watch'd
A stranger that lives nigh, still picking weeds,
Now in the swamp, now on the walls of the ruin,
Now clamb'ring, like a runaway lunatic,
Up to the summit of our highest mount. 130
I have watch'd him at it morning-tide and noon,
Once in the moonlight. Then I stood so near,
I heard him mutt'ring o'er the plant. A wizard!
Some gaunt slave, prowling out for dark employments.

Osorio. What may his name be?

Ferdinand. That I cannot tell you. 135
Only Francesco bade an officer
Speak in your name, as lord of this domain.
So he was question'd, who and what he was.
This was his answer: Say to the Lord Osorio,
'He that can bring the dead to life again.' [140]

Osorio. A strange reply!

Ferdinand. Aye—all of him is strange.
[[541]] He call'd himself a Christian—yet he wears
The Moorish robe, as if he courted death.

Osorio. Where does this wizard live?

Ferdinand (pointing to a distance). You see that brooklet?
Trace its course backward thro' a narrow opening [145]
It leads you to the place.

Osorio. How shall I know it?

Ferdinand. You can't mistake. It is a small green dale
Built all around with high off-sloping hills,
And from its shape our peasants aptly call it
The Giant's Cradle. There's a lake in the midst, 150
And round its banks tall wood, that branches over
And makes a kind of faery forest grow
Down in the water. At the further end
A puny cataract falls on the lake;
And there (a curious sight) you see its shadow [155]
For ever curling, like a wreath of smoke,
Up through the foliage of those faery trees.
His cot stands opposite—you cannot miss it.
[[542]]Some three yards up the hill a mountain ash
Stretches its lower boughs and scarlet clusters [160]
[[543]] O'er the new thatch.

Osorio. I shall not fail to find it.

[Exit Osorio. Ferdinand goes into his house.

Scene changes.

The inside of a cottage, around which flowers and plants of various kinds are seen.

Albert and Maurice.

Albert. He doth believe himself an iron soul,
And therefore puts he on an iron outward
And those same mock habiliments of strength
Hide his own weakness from himself.

Maurice. His weakness! [165]
Come, come, speak out! Your brother is a villain!
Yet all the wealth, power, influence, which is yours
You suffer him to hold!

Albert. Maurice! dear Maurice!
That my return involved Osorio's death
I trust would give me an unmingl'd pang— 170
Yet bearable. But when I see my father
Strewing his scant grey hairs even on the ground
Which soon must be his grave; and my Maria,
Her husband proved a monster, and her infants
[[544]] His infants—poor Maria!—all would perish, 175
All perish—all!—and I (nay bear with me!)
Could not survive the complicated ruin!

Maurice (much affected). Nay, now, if I have distress'd you—you well know,
I ne'er will quit your fortunes! true, 'tis tiresome.
You are a painter—one of many fancies— [180]
You can call up past deeds, and make them live
On the blank canvas, and each little herb,
That grows on mountain bleak, or tangled forest,
You've learnt to name—but I——

Albert. Well, to the Netherlands
We will return, the heroic Prince of Orange 185
Will grant us an asylum, in remembrance
Of our past service.

Maurice. Heard you not some steps?

Albert. What if it were my brother coming onward!
Not very wisely (but his creature teiz'd me)
I sent a most mysterious message to him. 190

Maurice. Would he not know you?

Albert. I unfearingly
Trust this disguise. Besides, he thinks me dead;
And what the mind believes impossible,
The bodily sense is slow to recognize.
Add too my youth, when last we saw each other; 195
Manhood has swell'd my chest, and taught my voice
A hoarser note.

Maurice. Most true! And Alva's Duke
Did not improve it by the unwholesome viands
He gave so scantily in that foul dungeon,
During our long imprisonment.

Enter Osorio.

Albert. It is he! [200]

Maurice. Make yourself talk; you'll feel the less. Come, speak.
[[545]] How do you find yourself? Speak to me, Albert.

Albert (placing his hand on his heart). A little fluttering here; but more of sorrow!

Osorio. You know my name, perhaps, better than me.
I am Osorio, son of the Lord Velez. [205]

Albert (groaning aloud). The son of Velez!

[Osorio walks leisurely round the room, and looks attentively at the plants.

Maurice. Why, what ails you now?

[Albert grasps Maurice's hand in agitation.

Maurice. How your hand trembles, Albert! Speak! what wish you?

Albert. To fall upon his neck and weep in anguish!

Osorio (returning). All very curious! from a ruin'd abbey
Pluck'd in the moonlight. There's a strange power in weeds 210
When a few odd prayers have been mutter'd o'er them.
Then they work miracles! I warrant you,
There's not a leaf, but underneath it lurks
Some serviceable imp. There's one of you,
Who sent me a strange message.

Albert. I am he! [215]

Osorio. I will speak with you, and by yourself.

[Exit Maurice.

Osorio. 'He that can bring the dead to life again.'
Such was your message, Sir! You are no dullard,
But one that strips the outward rind of things!

Albert. 'Tis fabled there are fruits with tempting rinds [220]
That are all dust and rottenness within.
Would'st thou I should strip such?

Osorio. Thou quibbling fool,
What dost thou mean? Think'st thou I journey'd hither
To sport with thee?

Albert. No, no! my lord! to sport
[[546]] Best fits the gaiety of innocence! [225]

Osorio (draws back as if stung and embarrassed, then folding his arms). O what a thing is Man! the wisest heart
A fool—a fool, that laughs at its own folly,
Yet still a fool! [Looks round the cottage.
It strikes me you are poor!

Albert. What follows thence?

Osorio. That you would fain be richer.
Besides, you do not love the rack, perhaps, [230]
Nor a black dungeon, nor a fire of faggots.
The Inquisition—hey? You understand me,
And you are poor. Now I have wealth and power,
Can quench the flames, and cure your poverty.
And for this service, all I ask you is [235]
That you should serve me—once—for a few hours.

Albert (solemnly). Thou art the son of Velez! Would to Heaven
That I could truly and for ever serve thee!

Osorio. The canting scoundrel softens. [Aside.
You are my friend!
'He that can bring the dead to life again.' [240]
Nay, no defence to me. The holy brethren
Believe these calumnies. I know thee better. [Then with great bitterness.
Thou art a man, and as a man I'll trust thee!

Albert. Alas, this hollow mirth! Declare your business!

Osorio. I love a lady, and she would love me [245]
But for an idle and fantastic scruple.
Have you no servants round the house? no listeners? [Osorio steps to the door.

Albert. What! faithless too? false to his angel wife?
To such a wife? Well might'st thou look so wan,
Ill-starr'd Maria! Wretch! my softer soul [250]
Is pass'd away! and I will probe his conscience.

Osorio (returned). In truth this lady loved another man,
But he has perish'd.

Albert. What? you kill'd him? hey?

Osorio. I'll dash thee to the earth, if thou but think'st it,
Thou slave! thou galley-slave! thou mountebank! [255]
I leave thee to the hangman!

Albert. Fare you well!
I pity you, Osorio! even to anguish! [Albert retires off the stage.

Osorio (recovering himself). 'Twas ideotcy! I'll tie myself to an aspen,
And wear a Fool's Cap. Ho! [Calling after Albert.

Albert (returning). Be brief, what wish you?

Osorio. You are deep at bartering—you charge yourself 260
At a round sum. Come, come, I spake unwisely.

Albert. I listen to you.

Osorio. In a sudden tempest
Did Albert perish—he, I mean, the lover—
The fellow——

Albert. Nay, speak out, 'twill ease your heart
To call him villain! Why stand'st thou aghast? [265]
Men think it natural to hate their rivals!

Osorio (hesitating and half doubting whether he should proceed). Now till she knows him dead she will not wed me!

Albert (with eager vehemence). Are you not wedded, then? Merciful God!
Not wedded to Maria?

Osorio. Why, what ails thee?
Art mad or drunk? Why look'st thou upward so? [270]
Dost pray to Lucifer, prince of the air?

Albert. Proceed. I shall be silent. [Albert sits, and leaning on the table hides his face.

Osorio. To Maria!
Politic wizard! ere you sent that message,
You had conn'd your lesson, made yourself proficient
In all my fortunes! Hah! you prophesied [275]
A golden crop!—well, you have not mistaken—
Be faithful to me, and I'll pay thee nobly.

Albert (lifting up his head). Well—and this lady!

Osorio. If we could make her certain of his death,
She needs must wed me. Ere her lover left her, [280]
She tied a little portrait round his neck
Entreating him to wear it.

Albert (sighing). Yes! he did so!

Osorio. Why, no! he was afraid of accidents,
Of robberies and shipwrecks, and the like.
In secrecy he gave it me to keep [285]
Till his return.

Albert. What, he was your friend then?

Osorio (wounded and embarrassed). I was his friend. [A pause.
Now that he gave it me
This lady knows not. You are a mighty wizard—
Can call this dead man up—he will not come— [290]
He is in heaven then!—there you have no influence—
Still there are tokens; and your imps may bring you
Something he wore about him when he died.
And when the smoke of the incense on the altar
Is pass'd, your spirits will have left this picture. [295]
What say you now?

Albert (after a long pause). Osorio, I will do it.

Osorio. Delays are dangerous. It shall be to-morrow
In the early evening. Ask for the Lord Velez.
I will prepare him. Music, too, and incense,
All shall be ready. Here is this same picture— [300]
And here what you will value more, a purse.
Before the dusk——

Albert. I will not fail to meet you.

Osorio. Till next we meet, farewell!

Albert (alone, gazes passionately at the portrait). And I did curse thee?
At midnight? on my knees? And I believed
Thee perjured, thee polluted, thee a murderess? [305]
O blind and credulous fool! O guilt of folly!
Should not thy inarticulate fondnesses,
Thy infant loves—should not thy maiden vows,
Have come upon my heart? And this sweet image
Tied round my neck with many a chaste endearment [310]
And thrilling hands, that made me weep and tremble.
Ah, coward dupe! to yield it to the miscreant
Who spake pollutions of thee!
I am unworthy of thy love, Maria!
Of that unearthly smile upon those lips, [315]
Which ever smil'd on me! Yet do not scorn me.
I lisp'd thy name ere I had learnt my mother's!

Enter Maurice.

Albert. Maurice! that picture, which I painted for thee,
Of my assassination.

Maurice. I'll go fetch it.

Albert. Haste! for I yearn to tell thee what has pass'd. [320]

[Maurice goes out.

Albert (gazing at the portrait). Dear image! rescued from a traitor's keeping,
I will not now prophane thee, holy image!
To a dark trick! That worst bad man shall find
A picture which shall wake the hell within him,
And rouse a fiery whirlwind in his conscience! 325

END OF ACT THE SECOND.