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.