Alvar. It weighed not with me—Hark! I will tell thee all; 45
As we passed by, I bade thee mark the base
Of yonder cliff—

Zulimez. That rocky seat you mean,
Shaped by the billows?—

Alvar. There Teresa met me
The morning of the day of my departure.
We were alone: the purple hue of dawn 50
Fell from the kindling east aslant upon us,
And blending with the blushes on her cheek,
Suffused the tear-drops there with rosy light.
There seemed a glory round us, and Teresa
The angel of the vision![821:1]

Had'st thou seen [55]
How in each motion her most innocent soul
Beamed forth and brightened, thou thyself would'st tell me,
Guilt is a thing impossible in her!
She must be innocent!

Zulimez. Proceed, my lord!

Alvar. A portrait which she had procured by stealth, 60
(For even then it seems her heart foreboded
[[822]] Or knew Ordonio's moody rivalry)
A portrait of herself with thrilling hand
She tied around my neck, conjuring me,
With earnest prayers, that I would keep it sacred 65
To my own knowledge: nor did she desist,
Till she had won a solemn promise from me,
That (save my own) no eye should e'er behold it
Till my return. Yet this the assassin knew,
Knew that which none but she could have disclosed. 70

Zulimez. A damning proof!

Alvar. My own life wearied me!
And but for the imperative voice within,
With mine own hand I had thrown off the burthen.
That voice, which quelled me, calmed me: and I sought
The Belgic states: there joined the better cause; 75
And there too fought as one that courted death!
Wounded, I fell among the dead and dying,
In death-like trance: a long imprisonment followed.
The fulness of my anguish by degrees
Waned to a meditative melancholy; 80
And still the more I mused, my soul became
More doubtful, more perplexed; and still Teresa,
Night after night, she visited my sleep,
Now as a saintly sufferer, wan and tearful,
Now as a saint in glory beckoning to me! [85]
Yes, still as in contempt of proof and reason,
I cherish the fond faith that she is guiltless!
Hear then my fix'd resolve: I'll linger here
In the disguise of a Moresco chieftain.—
The Moorish robes?—

Zulimez. All, all are in the sea-cave, 90
Some furlong hence. I bade our mariners
Secrete the boat there.

Alvar. Above all, the picture
Of the assassination—