Akin to falsehood, weigh upon my spirit.
Whate'er befalls us, the heroic Maurice
Will grant us an asylum, in remembrance
Of our past services.

Zul. And all the wealth, power, influence which is

yours,

You let a murderer hold?

Alv.
O faithful Zulimez!
That my return involved Ordonio's death,
I trust, would give me an unmingled pang,
Yet bearable :-but when I see my father
Strewing his scant gray hairs, e'en on the ground,
Which soon must be his grave, and my Teresa—-
Her husband proved a murderer, and her infants,
His infants-poor Teresa !—all would perish,
All perish-all! and I (nay bear with me)
Could not survive the complicated ruin !

Zul. (much affected). Nay now! I have distress'd you-you well know,

I ne'er will quit your fortunes. True, 'tis tiresome! You are a painter,* one of many fancies!

*The following lines I have preserved in this place, not so much as explanatory of the picture of the assassination, as (if I may say so without disrespect to the Public) to gratify my own feelings, the passage being no mere fancy portrait; but a slight, yet not unfaithful profile of one, (Sir George Beaumont. Written 1814.) who still lives, nobilitate felix, arte clarior vitâ collendissimus.

Zul. (speaking of Alvar in the third person). Such was the noble Spaniard's own relation.

He told me, too, how in his early youth,

And his first travels, 't was his choice or chance
To make his long sojourn in sea-wedded Venice;
There won the love of that divine old man,
Courted by mightiest kings, the famous Titian!
Who, like a second and more lovely Nature,

By the sweet mystery of lines and colours
Changed the blank canvass to a magic mirror,

That made the Absent present; and to Shadows

Gave light, depth, substance. bloom yea, thought and motion,

You can call up past deeds, and make them: live
On the blank canvass! and each little herb.
That grows on mountain bleak, or tangled forest,
You have learnt to name

Hark! heard you not some footsteps? Alv. What if it were my brother coming onwards! I sent a most mysterious message to him.

Enter ORDONIO.

Alv. (starting) It is he!

Ordonio (to himself, as he enters). If I distin · guish'd right her gait and stature,

It was the Moorish woman, Isidore's wife,
That pass'd me as I enter'd. 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.
[Addressing Alvar.

You know my name, I guess, if not my person.
I am Ordonio, son of the Lord Valdez.

Alv. (with deep emotion). The Son of Valdez!
[Ordonio walks liesurely round the room, and looks
attentively at the plants.

He loved the old man, and revered his art:
And though of noblest birth and ample fortune,
The young enthusiast thought it no scorn,
But his inalienable ornament,

To be his pupil, and with filial zeal
By practice to appropriate the sage lessons,
Which the gay, smiling old man gladly gave.
The Art, he honour'd thus, requited him;
And in the following and calamitous years

Beguiled the hours of his captivity.

Alh. And then he framed this picture? and unaided

By arts unlawful, spell, or talisman!

Alv. A potent spell, a mighty talisman!

The imperishable memory of the deed

Sustain'd by love, and grief, and indignation!

So vivid were the forms within his brain,

His very eyes, when shut, made pictures of them!

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

Alv. To fall upon his neck and weep forgiveness ! Ord. (returning, and aloud). Pluck'd 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 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

I am he.

Hath sent me a strange message.

Alv.

Ord. With you, then, I am to speak:

[Haughtily waving his hand to Zulimez. [Exit Zulimez. "He that can bring the dead to life again !"—

And, mark you, alone.

Such was your message, Sir! You are no dullard,
But one that strips the outward rind of things!

Alv. 'Tis fabled there are fruits with tempting rinds, That are all dust and rottenness within.

Wouldst thou I should strip such?

Ord.

Thou quibbling fool,

What dost thou mean? Think'st thou I journey'd hither To sport with thee?

Alv.

O no my Lord! to sport

Best suits the gaiety of innocence.

Ord. (aside). O what a thing is man! the wisest heart

A Fool! a Fool that laughs at its own folly,

The Inquisition, too-You comprehend me?

You are poor, in peril. I have wealth and power,
Can quench the flame, and cure your poverty;
And for the boon I ask of you, but this,

That you should serve me-once-for a few hours. Alv. (solemnly). Thou art the son of Valdez ! would to Heaven

That I could truly and for ever serve thee.

Ord. The slave begins to soften.

You are my friend,

[Aside.

"He that can bring the dead to life again.” Nay, no defence to me! The holy brethren Believe these calumnies-I know thee better. (Then with great bitterness). Thou art a man, and as a man I'll trust thee!

Alv. (aside). Alas! this hollow mirth-Declare your business.

Ord. I love a lady, and she would love me,

But for an idle and fantastic scruple.

Have you no servants here, no listeners?

[Ordonio steps to the door.

Alv. What, faithless too? False to his angel wife? To such a wife? Well mightst thou look so wan, Ill-starr'd Teresa !-Wretch! my softer soul Is pass'd away, and I will probe his conscience! Ord. In truth this lady loved another man, But he has perish'd.

Alv.

What! you kill'd him! hey?

Ord. I'll dash thee to the earth, if thou but think's it?

Insolent slave! how daredst thou—

(Turns abruptly from Alvar, and then to himself.)

Why! what's this!

'Twas idiocy! I'll tie myself to an aspen,

And wear a fool's cap

Alvar. (watching his agitation).

Fare thee wa

I pity the, Ordonio, even to anguish.

[Alvar is retiring.

[Calling to Alvar.

Ordonio (having recovered himself). Ho!

Alv. Be brief: what wish you?

Ord. You are deep at bartering-You charge yourself At a round sum. Come, come, I spake unwisely. Alv. I listen to you.

Ord.

In a sudden tempest,

Did Alvar perish-he, I mean—the lover

The fellow

Alv.

Nay, speak out! 't will ease your heart. To call him villain !-Why stand'st thou aghast? Men think it natural to hate their rivals.

Ord. (hesitating). Now, till she knows him dead, she will not wed me.

Alv. (with eager vehemence). Are you not wedded then? Merciful Heaven!

Not wedded to Teresa?

Ord.
Why, what ails thee?
What, art thou mad? why look'st thou upward so?
Dost pray to Lucifer, Prince of the Air?

Alv. (recollecting himself). Proceed, I shall be silent,
[Alvar sits, and leaning on the table, hides his face
Ord.
To Teresa?

Politic wizard! ere you sent that message,

You had conn'd your lesson, made yourself proficient
In all my fortunes. Hah! you prophesied
A golden crop! Well, you have not mistaken-
Be faithful to me, and I'll pay thee nobly.

Alv. (lifting up his head). Well! and this lady?
Ord. If we could make her certain of his death,
She needs must wed me. Ere her lover left her,
She tied a litte portrait round his neck,
Entreating him to wear it.