Naomi. Once more, well met! what ponder'st thou so deeply?

Alhadra. I scarce can tell thee! For my many thoughts
Troubled me, till with blank and naked mind
I only listen'd to the dashing billows. 20
It seems to me, I could have closed my eyes
And wak'd without a dream of what has pass'd;
So well it counterfeited quietness,
This wearied heart of mine!

Naomi. 'Tis thus by nature
Wisely ordain'd, that so excess of sorrow 25
Might bring its own cure with it.

Alhadra. Would to Heaven
[[584]] That it had brought its last and certain cure!
That ruin in the wood.

Naomi. It is a place
Of ominous fame; but 'twas the shortest road,
Nor could we else have kept clear of the village. 30
Yet some among us, as they scal'd the wall,
Mutter'd old rhyming prayers.

Alhadra. On that broad wall
I saw a skull; a poppy grew beside it,
There was a ghastly solace in the sight!

Naomi. I mark'd it not, and in good truth the night-bird [35]
Curdled my blood, even till it prick'd the heart.
Its note comes dreariest in the fall of the year: [Looking round impatiently.
Why don't they come? I will go forth and meet them. [Exit Naomi.

Alhadra (alone). The hanging woods, that touch'd by autumn seem'd
As they were blossoming hues of fire and gold, [40]
The hanging woods, most lovely in decay,
The many clouds, the sea, the rock, the sands,
Lay in the silent moonshine; and the owl,
(Strange! very strange!) the scritch owl only wak'd,
Sole voice, sole eye of all that world of beauty! [45]
Why such a thing am I! Where are these men?
I need the sympathy of human faces
To beat away this deep contempt for all things
Which quenches my revenge. Oh!—would to Alla
The raven and the sea-mew were appointed 50
To bring me food, or rather that my soul
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, [55]
And think myself the only being alive! [Naomi re-enters.

Naomi. Thy children——

Alhadra. Children? Whose children? [A pause—then fiercely.
Son of Velez,
[[585]] This hath new-strung my arm! Thou coward tyrant,
To stupify a woman's heart with anguish, [60]
Till she forgot even that she was a mother!