"T was dark and very silent.

[Then wildly.

What saidst thou?

No! no! I did not dare call Isidore,

Lest I should hear no answer! A brief while,
Belike, I lost all thought and memory

Of that for which I came! After that pause,
O Heaven! I heard a groan, and follow'd it:
And yet another groan, which guided me
Into a strange recess—and there was light,
A hideous light! his torch lay on the ground;
It's flame burnt dimly o'er a chasm's brink :
I spake; and whilst I spake, a feeble groan

Came from that chasm! it was his last! his deathgroan!

Nao. Comfort her, Alla.

Alh.

I stood in unimaginable trance

And agony that cannot be remember'd,

Listening with horrid hope to hear a groan!

But I had heard his last: my husband's death-groan! Nao. Haste! let us onward.

Alh.

I look'd far down the pit

My sight was bounded by a jutting fragment :
And it was stain'd with blood. Then first I shriek'd,
My eye-balls burnt, my brain grew hot as fire,

And all the hanging drops of the wet roof
Turn'd into blood-I saw them turn to blood!
And I was leaping wildly down the chasm,
When on the farther brink I saw his sword,
And it said, Vengeance!-Curses on my tongue!
The moon hath moved in Heaven, and I am here,
And he hath not had vengeance! Isidore!

Spirit of Isidore! thy murderer lives!

Away! away!

All.

Away! away!

[She rushes off, all following her.

Σ

ACT V.

SCENE I.-A Dungeon

ALVAR (alone) rises slowly from a bed of reeas.

Alv. And this place my forefathers made for man! This is the process of our love and wisdom To each poor brother who offends against us— Most innocent, perhaps—and what if guilty? Is this the only cure? Merciful God! Each pore and natural outlet shrivell'd up, By ignorance and parching poverty, His energies roll back upon his heart,

And stagnate and corrupt, till, changed to poison, They break out on him, like a loathsome plague-spot! Then we call in our pamper'd mountebanks:

And this is their best cure! uncomforted

And friendless solitude, groaning and tears,

And savage faces, at the clanking hour,

Seen through the steam and vapours of his dungeon
By the lamp's dismal twilight! So he lies
Circled with evil, till his very soul

Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deform'd
By sights of evermore deformity !

With other ministrations thou, O Nature!
Healest thy wandering and distemper'd child :
Thou pourest on him thy soft influences,

Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets;
Thy melodies of words, and winds, and waters!
Till he relent, and can no more endure

To be a jarring and a dissonant thing
Amid this general dance and minstrelsy;
But, bursting into tears, wins back his way,
ilis angry spirit heal'd and harmonized

By the benignant touch of love and beauty.

I am chill and weary! Yon rude bench of stone,
In that dark angle, the sole resting-place!

But the self-approving mind is its own light,

And life's best warmth still radiates from the heart Where Love sits brooding, and an honest purpose. [Retires out of sight.

Enter TERESA with a Taper.

Ter. It has chill'd my very life—my own voice

scares me !

Yet when I hear it not, I seem to lose

The substance of my being-my strongest grasp
Sends inwards but weak witness that I am.

I seek to cheat the echo.-How the half sounds
Blend with this strangled light! Is he not here-

[Looking round.

O for one human face here-but to see
One human face here to sustain me.-Courage!
It is but my own fear! The life within me,
It sinks and wavers like this cone of flame,
Beyond which I scarce dare look onward! Oh!
[Shuddering.

If I faint! If this inhuman den should be

At once my death-bed and my burial vault!

[Faintly screams as Alvar emerges from the recess. Alv. (rushes towards her, and catches her as she is falling).

O gracious Heaven! it is, it is Teresa!

I shall reveal myself! The sudden shock
Of rapture will blow out this spark of life,
And Joy complete what Terror has begun.
O ye impetuous beatings here, be still!
Teresa, best-beloved! pale, pale, and cold.
Her pulse doth flutter! Teresa! my Teresa!

Ter. (recovering, looks round wildly). I heard a voice; but often in my dreams

I hear that voice! and wake and try—and try—
To hear it waking! but I never could—
And 't is so now-even so! Well: he is dead-
Murder'd, perhaps ! And I am faint, and feel
As if it were no painful thing to die!

Alv. (eagerly). Believe it not, sweet maid! Believe it not,

Beloved woman! 'T was a low imposture,

Framed by a guilty wretch.

Ter. (retires from him, and feebly supports herself against a pillar of the dungeon).

Ha! who art thou?

Alv. (exceedingly affected). Suborn'd by his

brother

Ter.

Didst thou murder him?

Poor troubled man,

And dost thou now repent?

I do forgive thee, and may Heaven forgive thee!

Alv. Ordonio-he

Ter.

If thou didst murder him

His spirit ever at the throne of God

Asks mercy for thee: prays for mercy for thee,

With tears in Heaven!

Alv.

Alvar was not murder'd.

Be calm! Be calm, sweet maid!

Ter. (wildly). Nay, nay, but tell me!

[A pause; then presses her forehead. O't is lost again!

This dull confused pain

[A pause; she gazes at Alvar. Mysterious man!

Methinks I cannot fear thee: for thine eye

Doth swim with love and pity-Well! Ordonio-
Oh mv foreboding heart! and he suborn'd thee,

And thou didst spare his life? Blessings shower on

thee,

As many as the drops twice counted o'er

In the fond faithful heart of his Teresa !
Alv. I can endure no more.

cerer

The Moorish Sor

Exists but in the stain upon his face.

That picture

Ter. (advances towards him). Ha! speak on!
Alv.
Beloved Teresa !
It told but half the truth. O let this portrait
Tell all-that Alvar lives—that he is here!
Thy much deceived but ever faithful Alvar.
[Takes her portrait from his neck, and gives it her.
Ter. (receiving the portrait). The same it is the
same. Ah! who art thou?

Nay I will call thee, ALVAR! [She falls on his neck
Alv.
O joy unutterable!
But hark! a sound as of removing bars

At the dungeon's outer door. A brief, brief while
Conceal thyself, my love! It is Ordonio.

For the honour of our race, for our dear father;

O for himself too (he is still my brother)

Let me recall him to his nobler nature,
That he may wake as from a dream of murder !
O let me reconcile him to himself,

Open the sacred source of penitent tears,
And be once more his own beloved Alvar.
Ter. O my
all virtuous love! I fear to leave thee
With that obdurate man.

Alv.

Thou dost not leave me!

But a brief while retire into the darkness:

O that my joy could spread its sunshine round thee. Ter. The sound of thy voice shall be my music! [Retiring, she returns hastily and embraces Alvar.