I stay'd as though the hour of death were pass'd,
And I were sitting in the world of spirits-
For all things seem'd unreal! There I sate-
The dews fell clammy, and the night descended,
Black, sultry, close! and ere the midnight hour,
A storm came on, mingling all sounds of fear,
That woods, and sky, and mountains, seem'd one
havoc.

The second flash of lightning show'd a tree
Hard by me, newly scathed. I rose tumultuous:
My soul work'd high, I bared my head to the storm,
And, with loud voice and clamorous agony,"
Kneeling I pray'd to the great Spirit that made me,
Pray'd that REMORSE might fasten on their hearts,
And cling with poisonous tooth, inextricable
As the gored lion's bite!

There is no room in this heart for puling love-tales.
TERESA (lifts up her veil, and advances to ALVAR).
Stranger, farewell! I guess not who you are,
Nor why you so address'd your tale to me.
Your mien is noble, and, I own, perplex'd me
With obscure memory of something past,
Which still escaped my efforts, or presented
Tricks of a fancy pamper'd with long wishing.
If, as it sometimes happens, our rude startling
Whilst your full heart was shaping out its dream,
Drove you to this, your not ungentle wildness-
You have my sympathy, and so farewell'

But if some undiscover'd wrongs oppress you,
And you need strength to drag them into light,
The generous Valdez, and my Lord Ordonio,
Have arm and will to aid a noble sufferer;
Nor shall you want my favorable pleading.
[Exeunt TERESA and ALHADRA.
ALVAR (alone).

"Tis strange! It cannot be! my Lord Ordonio!
Her Lord Ordonio! Nay, I will not do it!

I cursed him once-and one curse is enough!

No start, no jealousy of stirring conscience!
And she referr'd to me-fondly, methought!
Could she walk here if she had been a traitress?
Here, where we play'd together in our childhood?
Here, where we plighted vows? where her cold
cheek

Received my last kiss, when with suppress'd feelings
She had fainted in my arms? It cannot be!
"Tis not in Nature! I will die, believing
That I shall meet her where no evil is,
No treachery, no cup dash'd from the lips.
I'll haunt this scene no more! live she in peace!
Her husband-ay, her husband! May this angel
New mould his canker'd heart! Assist me, Heaven,
That I may pray for my poor guilty brother! [Erit

And how, my Lord? I pray you to name the thing.
I would climb up an ice-glaz'd precipice
To pluck a weed you fancied!

ORDONIO (with embarrassment and hesitation).
Why-that-Lady-

ISIDORE.

"Tis now three years, my Lord, since last I saw you

How bad she look'd, and pale! but not like guilt-Have you a son, my Lord?

And her calm tones-sweet as a song of mercy!
If the bad spirit retain'd his angel's voice,
Hell scarce were Hell. And why not innocent?
Who meant to murder me, might well cheat her?
But ere she married him, he had stain'd her honor;
Ah! there I am hamper'd. What if this were a lie
Framed by the assassin? Who should tell it him,
If it were truth? Ordonio would not tell him.
Yet why one lie? all else, I know, was truth.

ORDONIO.

[Aside

O miserable-
Isidore! you are a man, and know mankind.
I told you what I wish'd-now for the truth!—
She lov'd the man you kill'd.

ISIDORE (looking as suddenly alarmed).
You jest, my Lord?

ORDONIO.

And till his death is proved, she will not wed me.

I can bear this, and any thing more grievous

ISIDORE.

My Lord-my Lord,

I can bear much-yes, very much from you!

But there's a point where sufferance is meanness :
I am no villain-never kill'd for hire-
My gratitude-

ORDONIO.

O ay-your gratitude!

From you, my Lord—but how can I serve you here? "Twas a well-sounding word—what have you done

ORDONIO,

Why, you can utter with a solemn gesture
Oracular sentences of deep no-meaning,

Wear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics

ISIDORE.

I am dull, my Lord! I do not comprehend you.

ORDONIO.

In blunt terms, you can play the sorcerer.
She hath no faith in Holy Church, 't is true : .
Her lover school'd her in some newer nonsense!
Yet still a tale of spirits works upon her.
She is a lone enthusiast, sensitive,
Shivers, and cannot keep the tears in her eye:
And such do love the marvellous too well
Not to believe it. We will wind up her fancy
With a strange music, that she knows not of
With fumes of frankincense, and mummery,
Then leave, as one sure token of his death,
That portrait, which from off the dead man's neck
I bade thee take, the trophy of thy conquest.

ISIDORE.

Will that be a sure sign?

ORDONIO.

Beyond suspicion.
Fondly caressing him, her favor'd lover

(By some base spell he had bewitch'd her senses),
She whisper'd such dark fears of me, forsooth,
As made this heart pour gall into my veins.
And as she coyly bound it round his neck,
She made him promise silence; and now holds
The secret of the existence of this portrait,
Known only to her lover and herself.

But I had traced her, stolen unnoticed on them,
And unsuspected saw and heard the whole.

ISIDORE.

But now I should have cursed the man who told me
You could ask aught, my Lord, and I refuse-
But this I cannot do.

ORDONIO.

Where lies your scruple?

ISIDORE (with stammering).

Why-why, my Lord!
You know you told me that the lady loved you,
Had loved you with incautious tenderness;
That if the young man, her betrothed husband,
Returned, yourself, and she, and the honor of both
Must perish. Now, though with no tenderer scruples
Than those which being native to the heart,
Than those, my Lord, which merely being a man-
ORDONIO (aloud, though to express his contempt
he speaks in the third person).

He promised us I know not what-in vain! This fellow is a Man-he kill'd for hire Then with a look and voice that overawed me, One whom he knew not, yet has tender scruples! He said, What mean you, friends? My life is dear: [Then turning to ISIDORE. I have a brother and a promised wife, These doubts, these fears, thy whine, thy stammer-Who make life dear to me-and if I fall, ing

That brother will roam earth and hell for vengeance. Pish, fool! thou blunder'st through the book of guilt, There was a likeness in his face to yours; Spelling thy villany. I ask'd his brother's name: he said-Ordonio,

Son of Lord Valdez! I had well-nigh fainted.
At length I said (if that indeed I said it,
And that no Spirit made my tongue its organ),
That woman is dishonor'd by that brother,
And he the man who sent us to destroy you.
He drove a thrust at me in rage. I told him,
He wore her portrait round his neck. He look'd
As he had been made of the rock that propt his
back-

Ay, just as you look now-only less ghastly!
At length, recovering from his trance, he threw
His sword away, and bade us take his life,
It was not worth his keeping.

ORDONIO.

And you kill'd him? Oh blood-hounds! may eternal wrath flame round you!

He was his Maker's Image undefaced!

ORDONIO.

Doubtless you question'd him?

ISIDORE.

'Twas my intention,

Having first traced him homeward to his haunt.
But lo! the stern Dominican, whose spies
Lürk everywhere, already (as it seem'd)
Had given commission to his apt familiar

To seek and sound the Moor; who now returning,
Was by this trusty agent stopp'd midway.

I, dreading fresh suspicion if found near him
In that lone place, again conceal'd myself,

Yet within hearing. So the Moor was question'd,
And in your name, as lord of this domain.
Proudly he answer'd, "Say to the Lord Ordonio,
He that can bring the dead to life again!"

[A pause. A strange reply!

It seizes me-by Hell, I will go on!
What wouldst thou stop, man? thy pale looks won't
save thee!
[A pause.
Oh cold-cold-cold! shot through with icy cold!
ISIDORE (aside).

Were he alive, he had return'd ere now-
The consequence the same-dead through his plot-

ting!

ORDONIO.

O this unutterable dying away-here-
This sickness of the heart!

[A pause.
What if I went
And lived in a hollow tomb, and fed on weeds?
Ay! that's the road to heaven! O fool! fool! fool!
[A pause.
What have I done but that which nature destined,
Or the blind elements stirr'd up within me?

ORDONIO.

ISIDORE.

Ay, all of him is strange.
He call'd himself a Christian, yet he wears
The Moorish robes, as if he courted death.

ORDONIO..

Where does this wizard live?

ISIDORE (pointing to the distance).
You see that brooklet!
Trace its course backward: through a narrow opening
It leads you to the place.

ORDONIO.

How shall I know it?
ISIDORE.
You cannot err. It is a small green dell
Built all around with high off-sloping hills,
And from its shape our peasants aptly call it

If good were meant, why were we made these Be- The Giant's Cradle. There's a lake in the midst,

And round its banks tall wood that branches over,
And makes a kind of faery forest grow
Down in the water. At the further end

A puny cataract falls on the lake;
And there, a curious sight! you see its shadow
For ever curling like a wreath of smoke,
Up through the foliage of those faery trees.
His cot stands opposite. You cannot miss it.
ORDONIO (in retiring stops suddenly at the edge of the
scene, and then turning round to ISIDORE).
Ha!-Who lurks there? Have we been overheard?
There, where the smooth high wall of slate-rock glit-

ters

ISIDORE.

'Neath those tall stones, which, propping each the
other,

Form a mock portal with their pointed arch!
Pardon my smiles! "T is a poor Idiot Boy,
Who sits in the sun, and twirls a bough about,
His weak eyes seethed in most unmeaning tears.
And so he sits, swaying his cone-like head;
And, staring at his bough from morn to sun-set,

Who as it seem'd was gathering herbs and wild flow-See-saws his voice in inarticulate noises!

And all the wealth, power, influence which is yours, "He that can bring the dead to life again!"You let a murderer hold?

Hark! heard you not some footsteps? What follows thence?

Did Alvar perish-he, I mean-the lover-
The fellow,-

ALVAR.

Nay, speak out! 'twill ease your heart To call him villain!-Why stand'st thou aghast! Men think it natural to hate their rivals.

ORDONIO (hesitating).

I was his friend.

Now that he gave it me
This lady knows not. You are a mighty wizard—
Can call the dead man up-he will not come-
He is in heaven then-there you have no influence :

Still there are tokens-and your imps may bring you
Something he wore about him when he died.
And when the smoke of the incense on the altar
Is pass'd, your spirits will have left this picture.
What say you now?

ALVAR (after a pause).
Ordonio, I will do it.
ORDONIO.

We'll hazard no delay. Be it to-night,
In the early evening. Ask for the Lord Valdez.
I will prepare him. Music too, and incense
(For I have arranged it-Music, Altar, Incense),
All shall be ready. Here is this same picture,
And here, what you will value more, a purse.
Come early for your magic ceremonies.

ALVAR.

I will not fail to meet you.

ORDONIO.
Till next we meet, farewell!

[Exit ORDONIO.

ALVAR (alone, indignantly flings the purse away, and
gazes passionately at the portrait).
And I did curse thee?
At midnight? on my knees? and I believed
Thee perjured, thee a traitress! Thee dishonor'd?
O blind and credulous fool! O guilt of folly!

Now, till she knows him dead, she will not wed me. Should not thy inarticulate Fondnesses,

Are

ALVAR (with eager vehemence).

you not wedded then? Merciful Heaven!

Not wedded to Teresa?

Thy Infant Loves-should not thy Maiden Vows
Have come upon my heart? And this sweet Image,
Tied round my neck with many a chaste endearment,