Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy, Alv And of a brother, Dare I hold this, unproved? nor make one effort And at the imminent hazard of his own. Add too my oath— Zul. You have thrice told already The years of absence and of secrecy To which a forced oath bound you: if in truth Alv. My long captivity Left me no choice: the very Wish too languish'd The assassin's strong assurance, when no interest, Zul. Heavy presumption ! Alv. It weigh'd not with me-Hark! I will tell thee all: As we pass'd by, I bade thee mark the base We were alone: the purple hue of dawn [Then with agitation. Hadst thou seen How in each motion her most innocent soul Beam'd forth and brighten'd, thou thyself wouldst tell me, Guilt is a thing impossible in her ! She must be innocent! Zul. (with a sigh). Proceed, my Lord! Alv. A portrait which she had procured by stealth (For ever then it seems her heart foreboded, Or knew Ordonio's moody rivalry), A portrait of herself, with thrilling hand, With earnest prayers, that I would keep it sacred Till she had won a solemn promise from me, Knew that which none but she could have disclosed. Alv. My own life wearied me! And but for the imperative Voice within, With mine own hand I had thrown off the burthen. Waned to a meditative melancholy; And still, the more I mused, my soul became Zul. All, all are in the sea-cave, Some furlong hence. I bade our mariners Alv. Of the assassination Zul. Above all, the picture Be assured Thus disguised, That it remains uninjured. Alv. I will first seek to meet Ordonio's—wife! If possible, alone too. This was her wonted walk, And this the hour; her words, her very looks Will acquit her or convict. Zul. Will they not know you? Alv. With your aid, friend, I shall unfearingly Trust the disguise; and as to my complexion, My long imprisonment, the scanty food, This scar, and toil beneath a burning sun, Have done already half the business for us. Add too my youth, when last we saw each other. Manhood has swoln my chest, and taught my voice A hoarser note-Besides, they think me dead: And what the mind believes impossible, The bodily sense is slow to recognize. Zul. 'Tis yours, Sir, to command; mine to obev. Now to the cave beneath the vaulted rock, Where having shaped you to a Moorish chieftain, [Both stand listening. Voices at a distance! Let us away! SCENE II. [Exeunt. Enter TERESA and VALDEZ. Ter. I hold Ordonio dear; he is your son And Alvar's brother. Val. Love him for himself, Nor make the living wretched for the dead. Ter. I mourn that you should plead in vain, Lord Valdez; But heaven hath heard my vow, and I remain Faithful to Alvar, be he dead or living. Val. Heaven knows with what delight I saw your loves, And could my heart's blood give him back to thee, With that same look, with which he gave thee to me; I must not see thee wretched. Ter. There are woes Ill-barter'd for the garishness of joy! If it be wretched with an untired eye To watch those skiey tints, and this green ocean; To trick out mine own death-bed, and imagine He should return, and see a brother's infant you, * Here Valdez bends back, and smiles at her wildness, which Teresa noticing, checks her enthusiasm, and in a soothing half-playful tone and manner, apologizes for her fancy, by the little tale in the parenthesis. |