Zulimez. Nay now! I have distress'd you—you well know, [40]
I ne'er will quit your fortunes. True,'tis tiresome!
You are a painter,[842:1] one of many fancies!
[[843]] 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, [45]
You have learnt to name——
Hark! heard you not some footsteps?

Alvar. What if it were my brother coming onwards?
I sent a most mysterious message to him.

Enter Ordonio

Alvar. It is he!

Ordonio (to himself as he enters). If I distinguish'd right her gait and stature, 50
It was the Moorish woman, Isidore's wife,
That passed me as I entered. A lit taper,
In the night air, doth not more naturally
Attract the night-flies round it, than a conjuror
Draws round him the whole female neighbourhood. [55]
[Addressing Alvar.
You know my name, I guess, if not my person.
I am Ordonio, son of the Lord Valdez.

Alvar. The Son of Valdez!

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

Zulimez (to Alvar). Why, what ails you now?
How your hand trembles! Alvar, speak! what wish you?

Alvar. To fall upon his neck and weep forgiveness! 60

Ordonio (returning, and aloud). Plucked in the moonlight from a ruined abbey—
Those only, which the pale rays visited!
O the unintelligible power of weeds,
When a few odd prayers have been muttered o'er them:
Then they work miracles! I warrant you, [65]
There's not a leaf, but underneath it lurks
Some serviceable imp.
There's one of you
Hath sent me a strange message.