Flow in unmingled stream through thy first blessing. [both kneel to Valdez. Val. My Son! My Alvar! bless, Oh bless him, heaven! Ter. Me too, my father? Val. Bless, Oh bless my children! [both rise. If listened to; but if repelled with scorn, APPENDIX. THE following Scene, as unfit for the stage, was taken from the tragedy in the year 1797, and published in the Lyrical Ballads. Enter Teresa and Selma. Ter. 'Tis said, he spake of you familiarly, As mine and Alvar's common foster-mother. Sel. Now blessings on the man, whoe'er he be That joined your names with mine! O my sweet Lady, As often as I think of those dear times, When you two little ones would stand, at eve, On each side of my chair, and make me learn All you had learnt in the day; and how to talk Ter. No one. Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale! My husband's father told it me, Poor old Sesina-angels rest his soul; He was a woodman, and could fell and saw With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, A pretty boy, but most unteachable And never learn'd a prayer, nor told a bead, But knew the names of birds, and mocked their notes, And whistled, as he were a bird himself. And all the autumn 'twas his only play To gather seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them He soon could write with the pen; and from that time Lived chiefly at the convent or the castle. So he became a rare and learned youth: But O! poor wretch! he read, and read, and read, But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, Of all the heretical and lawless talk Which brought this judgment; so the youth was seized, Ter. "Tis a sweet tale: Such as would lull a listening child to sleep, Sel. And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis supposed Note to the words "You are a painter," p. 350, Scene ii., Act ii. The following lines I have preserved in this place, not so much as explanatory of the picture of the assassination, as to gratify my own feelings, the passage being no mere fancy portrait; but a slight, yet not unfaithful, profile of the late Sir George Beaumont. 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, 'twas his choice or chance That made the absent present; and to shadows Gave light, depth, substance, bloom, yea, thought and motion. He loved the old man, and revered his art: And though of neblest birth and ample fortune, The young enthusiast thought it no scorn To be his pupil, and with filial zeal By practice to appropriate the sage lessons Beguiled the hours of his captivity. Alh. And then he framed this picture? and unaided By arts unlawful, spell, or tallsman ! Alv. A potent spell, a mighty talisman! The imperishable memory of the dead, Sustained by love, and grief, and indignation! So vivid were the forms within his brain, His very eyes, when shut, made pictures of them! |