Alhadra. Yon hanging woods, that touch'd by autumn seem
As they were blossoming hues of fire and gold
The flower-like woods, most lovely in decay,
The many clouds, the sea, the rock, the sands.
Lie in the silent moonshine: and the owl, 5
(Strange! very strange!) the screech-owl only wakes!
Sole voice, sole eye of all this world of beauty!
Unless, perhaps, she sing her screeching song
To a herd of wolves, that skulk athirst for blood.
Why such a thing am I?—Where are these men? 10
I need the sympathy of human faces,
To beat away this deep contempt for all things,
Which quenches my revenge. O! would to Alla,
The raven, or the sea-mew, were appointed
To bring me food! or rather that my soul 15
Could drink in life from the universal air!
It were a lot divine in some small skiff
Along some Ocean's boundless solitude,
To float for ever with a careless course.
And think myself the only being alive! [20]

My children!—Isidore's children!—Son of Valdez,
This hath new strung mine arm. Thou coward tyrant!
To stupify a woman's heart with anguish
Till she forgot—even that she was a mother!

[She fixes her eye on the earth. Then drop in one after another, from different parts of the stage, a considerable number of Morescoes, all in Moorish garments and Moorish armour. They form a circle at a distance round Alhadra, and remain silent till Naomi enters.

[[869]]Naomi. Woman! May Alla and the Prophet bless thee! [25]
We have obeyed thy call. Where is our chief?
And why didst thou enjoin these Moorish garments?

Alhadra (raising her eyes, and looking round on the circle). Warriors of Mahomet! faithful in the battle!
My countrymen! Come ye prepared to work
An honourable deed? And would ye work it 30
In the slave's garb? Curse on those Christian robes!
They are spell-blasted: and whoever wears them,
His arm shrinks wither'd, his heart melts away,
And his bones soften.

Naomi. Where is Isidore?

Alhadra. This night I went from forth my house, and left [35]
His children all asleep: and he was living!
And I return'd and found them still asleep,
But he had perished——

All Morescoes. Perished?

Alhadra. He had perished!
Sleep on, poor babes! not one of you doth know
That he is fatherless—a desolate orphan! 40
Why should we wake them? Can an infant's arm
Revenge his murder?

One Moresco (to another). Did she say his murder?