TERESA.

VALDEZ

OR DONIO.

Sits on my grave and gazes at the moon;

His wounds and perilous voyages, and how Or haply, in some more fantastic mood,

With an heroic fearlessness of danger
To be in Paradise, and with choice flowers He roam'd the coast of Afric for your Alvar.
Build up a bower where he and I might dwell, It was not well—You have moved me even to tears.
And there to wait his coming ! O my sire!
My Alvar's sire! if this be wretchedness

Oh pardon me, Lord Valdez! pardon me!
That eats away the life, what were it, think you, It was a foolish and ungrateful speech,
If in a most assured reality

A most ungrateful speech! But I am hurried
He should return, and see a brother's infant

Beyond myself, if I but hear of one Smile at him from my arms ?

Who aims to rival Alvar. Were we not Oh, what a thought! (Clasping her forehead. Born in one day, like twins of the same parent? VALDEZ.

Nursed in one cradle ? Pardon me, my father!
A thought? even so! mere thought! an empty thought. A six years' absence is a heavy thing,
The very week he promised his return-

Yet still the hope survives-
TERESA (abruptly).

VALDEZ (looking forward).
Was it not then a busy joy? to see him,

Hush! 'tis Monviedro.
After those three years' travels! we had no fears

TERESA
The frequent tidings, the ne'er-failing letter, The Inquisitor! on what new scent of blood ?
Almost endear'd his absence! Yet the gladness,
The tumult of our joy! What then if now—

Enter MONVIEDRO with ALIADRA.

MONVIEDRO (having first made his obersance to O power of youth to feed on pleasant thoughts,

VALDEZ and TERESA). Spite of conviction! I am old and heartless! Yes, I am old—I have no pleasant fancies- Peace and the truth be with you! Good my Lord, Hectic and unrefresh'd with rest

My present need is with your son. • TERESA (with great tenderness)

(Looking forward. My father! We have hit the time. Here comes he! Yes, 't is he. VALDEZ.

Enter from the opposite side Don ORDONIO. The sober truth is all too much for me! I see no sail which brings not to my mind My Lord Ordonio, this Moresco woman The home-bound bark in which my son was captured (Alhadra is her name) asks audience of you. By the Algerine-to perish with his captors! TERESA.

Hail, reverend father! what may be the business? Oh no! he did not ! VALDEZ.

My Lord, on strong suspicion of relapse Captured in sight of land ! To his false creed, so recently abjured, From yon hill point, nay, from our castle watch-tower The secret servants of the inquisition We might have seen

Have seized her husband, and at my command

To the supreme tribunal would have led him, His capture, not his death. But that he made appeal to you, my Lord,

As surety for his soundness in the faith. Alas! how aptly thou forgett'st a talo

Though lessen'd by experience what small trust Thou ne'er didst wish to learn! my brave Ordonio

The asseverations of these Moors deserve, Saw both the pirate and his prize go down,

Yet still the deference to Ordonio's name, In the same storm that baffled his own valor,

Nor loss the wish to prove, with what high honor And thus twice snatch'd a brother from his hopes :

The Holy Church regards her faithful soldiers, Gallant Ordonio! (pauses; then tenderly). O beloved Thus far prevail'd with me that

Teresa!
Wouldst thou best prove thy faith to generous Alvar,

Reverend father, And most delight his spirit, go, make thou

I am much beholden to your high opinion, His brother happy, make his aged father

Which so o'erprizes my light services. Sink to the grave in joy.

[Then to ALHADRA. TERESA.

I would that I could serve you ; but in truth
For mercy's sake,

Your face is new to me.
Preee me no more! I have no power to love him.
His proud forbidding eye, and his dark brow,

My mind foretold me,
Chill me like dew damps of the unwholesome night: That such would be the event. In truth, Lord Valdez,
My love, a timorons and tender flower,

'Twas little probable, that Don Ordonio, Closes beneath his touch.

That your illustrious son, who fought so bravely VALDEZ.

Sume four years since to quell these rebol Moors,
You wrong him, maiden! Should prove the patron of this infidel !
You wrong him, by my soul! Nor was it well The guarantee of a Moresco's faith!
To character by such unkindly phrases

Now I return.
The stir and workings of that love for you
Which he has toild to smother, "T was not well, My Lord, my husband's name
Nor is it grateful in you to forget

Is Isidore. (ORDOnio slarls.) You may remember it:

MONVIEDRO.

TERESA.

VALDEZ

ORDONIO.

MONVIEDRO.

&

ALILADRA.

ALHADRA

TERESA.

MONVIEDRO.

ALHADRA.

Three years ago, three years this very week,

ALHADRA. You left him at Almeria.

Not till my husband's free! I may not do it.

I will stay here.
MONVIEDRO.
Palpably false !

TERESA (aside).

Who is this Isidore ? This very week, three years ago, my Lord (You needs must recollect it by your wound),

VALDEZ. You were at sea, and there engaged the pirates,

Daughter! The murderers doubtless of your brother Alvar!

TERESA
[TERESA looks at MONVIEDRO wilh disgust and I'll loiter yet awhile t' enjoy the sea breeze.

With your permission, my dear Lord,
horror. ORDONIO's appearance to be collected

[Exeunt VALDEZ, MONVIEDRO, and ORDONIO. from what follows. MONVIEDRO (10 VALDEZ, and pointing at ORDONIO). What! is he ill, my Lord ? how strange he looks !

Hah! there he goes! a bitter curse go with him,

A scathing curse!
VALDEZ (angrily).

(Then as if recollecting herself, and with a timid look). You press'd upon him too abruptly, father,

You hate him, don't you, lady? The fate of one, on whom, you know, he doted.

TERESA (perceiving that ALHADRA is conscious she has ORDONIO (starting as in sudden agitation).

spoken imprudently).
O Heavens! I? I-doted ? (then recovering himself). Oh fear not me! my heart is sad for you.
Yes! I doted on him.

ALHADRA.
(Ordonio walks to the end of the stage. These fell inquisitors! these sons of blood !
VALDEZ follows, soothing him.

As I came on, his face so madden'd me,
TERESA (her eye following ORDONIO). That ever and anon I clutch'd my dagger
I do not, can not, love him. Is my heart hard ? And half unsheathed it
Is my heart hard ? that even now the thought
Should force itself upon me?—Yet I feel it!

Be more calm, I pray you. The drops did start and stand upon his forehead!

And as he walked along the narrow path
I will return. In very truth, I grieve
To have been the occasion. Ho! attend me, woman!

Close by the mountain's edge, my soul grew eager ;

'Twas with hard toil I made myself remember ALHADRA (10 TERESA).

That his Familiars held my babes and husband. O gentle lady! make the father stay,

To have leapt upon him with a tiger's plunge, Until my Lord recover. I am sure,

And hurld him down the rugged precipice, That he will say he is my husband's friend.

O, it had been most sweet!

TERESA. Stay, father! stay! my Lord will soon recover.

Hush! hush for shame! ORDONIO (as they return, to VALDEZ) Where is your woman's heart? Strange, that this Monviedro

ALHADRA. Should have the power so to distemper me!

O gentle lady!

You have no skill to guess my many wrongs, Nay. 't was an amiable weakness, son !

Many and strange! Besides (ironically), I am a Chris

tian,
MONVIEDRO.
My Lord, I truly grieve-

And Christians never pardon-'tis their faith!
ORDONIO.

Tut! name it not. Shame fall on those who so have shown it to thee!
A sudden seizure, father! think not of it.
As to this woman's husband, I do know him.

I know that man; 'tis well he knows not me.
I know him well, and that he is a Christian.

Five years ago (and he was the prime agent).
MONVIEDRO.

Five years ago the holy brethren seized me.
I hope, my Lord, your merely human pity
Doth not prevail-

What might your crime be?
ORDONIO.
'Tis certain that he was a Catholic;

ALHADRA.

I was a Moresco ! What changes may have happen'd in three years, I cannot say; but grant me this, good father :

They cast me, then a young and nursing mother, Myself I'll sist him: if I find him sound,

Into a dungeon of their prison-house,

Where was no bed, no fire, no ray of light,
You'll grant me your authority and name
To liberate his house.

No touch, no sound of comfort! The black air,

It was a toil to breathe it! when the door,
Your zeal, my Lord,

Slow opening at the appointed hour, disclosed And your late merits in this holy warfare,

One human countenance, the lamp's red flame Would authorize an ampler trust you have it

Cower'd as it enter'd, and at once sunk down.

Oh miserable! by that lamp to see
ORDONIO.

My infant quarrelling with the coarse hard bread I will attend you home within an hour.

Brought daily: for the little wretch was sicklyVALDEZ.

My rage had dried away its natural food. Meantime, return with us and take refreshment. In darkness I remaind-the dull bell counting,

TERESA.

VALDEZ.

TERESA.

ALHADRA.

TERESA.

MONVIEDRO.

TERESA.

TERESA.

TERESA.

ALVAR.

ALHADRA.

Which haply told me that all the all-cheering Sun
Was rising on our garden. When I dozed, If aught enforce you to concealment, Sir-
My infant's moanings mingled with my slumbers

ALHADRA.
And waked me. If you were a mother, Lady, He trembles strangely.
I should scarce dare to tell you, that its noises [Alvar sinks down and hides his face in his robe.
And peevish cries so fretted on my brain

TERESA. That I have struck the innocent babe in anger.

See, we have disturb'd him.

[Approaches nearer to him O Heaven! it is too horrible to hear.'

I pray you think us friends-uncowl your face, ALHADRA.

For you seem faint, and the night breeze blows healing. What was it then to suffer ? 'Tis most right I pray you think us friends! That such as you should hear it-Know you not,

ALVAR (raising his head). What Nature makes you mourn, she bids you heal ?

Calm, very calm! Great Evils ask great Passions to redress them, 'Tis all too tranquil for reality! And Whirlwinds fitliest scatter Pestilence. And she spoke to me with her innocent voice, TERESA.

That voice, that innocent voice! She is no traitress! You were at length released ?

TERESA.
ALHADRA.

Let us retire. (Haughtily to ALHADRA).
Yes, at length

[They advance to the front of the Stage. I saw the blessed arch of the whole heaven!

ALHADRA (with scorn). *T was the first time my infant smiled. No more

He is indeed a Christian. For if I dwell upon that moment, Lady,

ALVAR (aside). A trance comes on which makes me o'er again

She deems me dead, yet wears no mourning garment! All I then was—my knees hang loose and drag, Why should my brother's—wife—wear mourning And my lip falls with such an idiot laugh,

garments ? That you would start and shudder!

[T. TERESA. TERESA.

Your pardon, noble dame! that I disturb'd you :
But your husband— I had just started from a frightful dream.

ALHADRA.
A month's imprisonment would kill him, Lady. Dreams tell but of the Past, and yet, 't is said,
TERESA.

They prophesy-
Alas, poor man!

The Past lives o'er again
He hath a lion's courage,

In its effects, and to the guilty spirit
Fearless in act, but feeble in endurance;

The ever-frowning Present is its image. Unfit for boisterous times, with gentle heart

TERESA. He worships Nature in the hill ana valley,

Traitress! (Then aside). Not knowing what he loves, but loves it all

What sudden spell o'ermasters me?

Why seeks he me, shunning the Moorish woman? Enter Alvar disguised as a MoREsco, and in Moorish [TERESA looks round uneasily, but gradually begarments.

comes attentive as Alvar proceeds in the

next speech. Know you that stately Moor?

I dreamt I had a friend, on whom I leant
ALHADRA.

With blindest trust, and a betrothed maid,
I know him not:

Whom I was wont to call not mine, but me:
But doubt not he is some Moresco chieftain,

For mine own self seem'd nothing, lacking her. Who hides himself among the Alpuxarras.

This maid so idolized that trusted friend

Dishonor'd in my absence, soul and body! The Alpurarras? Does he know his danger, Fear, following guilt, tempted to blacker guilt, So near this seat ?

And murderers were suborn'd against my life.

But by my looks, and most impassion'd words, He wears the Moorish robes too, I roused the virtues that are dead in no man, As in defiance of the royal edict.

Even in the assassins' hearts ! they made their terms, (ALHADRA advances to Alvar, who has walked 10 And thank'd me for redeeming them from murder. the back of the stage near the rocks. TERESA

ALHADRA. drops her veil.

You are lost in thought: hear him no more, sweet Lady! ALHADRA. Gallant Moresco! An inquisitor, Monviedro, of known hatred to our race

From morn to night I am myself a dreamer,

And slight things bring on me the idle mood !
ALVAR (interrupting her).

Well, Sir, what happen'd then ?
You have mistaken me. I am a Christian.

ALVAR.
ALHADRA.

On a rude rock,
He deems, that we are plotting to ensnare him : A rock, methought, fast by a grove of firs,
Speak to him, Lady-none can hear you speak, Whose thready leaves to the low-breathing gale
And not believe you innocent of guile.

Made a soft sound most like the distant ocean,

TERESA.

ALVAR.

TERESA.

ALHADRA.

TERESA.

ISIDORE.

TERESA.

I stay'd as though the hour of death were pass'd, No start, no jealousy of stirring conscience!
And I were sitting in the world of spirits And she referr’d to me-fondly, methought !
For all things seem'd unreal! There I sate-

Could she walk here if she had been a traitress? The dews fell clammy, and the night descended, Here, where we play'd together in our childhood? Black, sultry, close! and ere the midnight hour, Here, where we plighted vows? where her cold A storm came on, mingling all sounds of fear,

cheek That woods, and sky, and mountains, seem'd one Received my last kiss, when with suppress'd feelings havoc.

She had fainted in my arms? It cannot be!
The second flash of lightning show'd a tree "Tis not in Nature! I will die, believing
Hard by me, newly scathed. I rose tumultuous : That I shall meet her where no evil is,
My soul work'd high, I bared my head to the storm, No treachery, no cup dash'd from the lips.
And, with loud voice and clamorous agony, I'll haunt this scene no more! live she in peace!
Kneeling I pray'd to the great Spirit that made me, Her husband-ay, her husband! May this angel
Pray'd that REMORSE might fasten on their hearts, New mould his canker'd heart! Assist me, Heaven,
And cling with poisonous tooth, inextricable That I may pray for my poor guilty brother! (Exi.
As the gored lion's bite !

TERESA (shuddering).
A fearful curse!

ACT II.
ALHADRA ( fiercely).
But dreamt you not that you return'd and kill'd them?

SCENE I.
Dreamt you of no revenge ?

A wild and mountainous Country. ORDONIO and IsiALVAR (his voice trembling, and in tones of deep distress). DORE are discovered, supposed at a little distance

She would have died, from ISIDORE's house. Died in her guilt-perchance by her own hands !

ORDONIO. And bending o'er her self-inflicted wounds,

Here we may stop: your house distinct in view, I might have met the evil glance of frenzy,

Yet we secured from listeners.
And leapt myself into an unblest grave!
I pray'd for the punishment that cleanses hearts:

Now indeed
For still I loved her!

My house! and it looks cheerful as the clusters - ALHADRA.

Basking in sunshine on yon vine-clad rock,
And you dreamt all this?

That over-brows it! Patron! Friend! Preserver!

Thrice have you saved my life. Once in the battle My soul is full of visions all as wild!

You gave it me: next rescued me from suicide,

When for my follies I was made to wander, There is no room in this heart for puling love-tales. With mouths to feed, and not a morsel for them

TERESA (lifts up her veil, and advances to ALVAR). Now, but for you, a dungeon's slimy stones
Stranger, farewell! I guess not who you are,

Had been my bed and pillow.
Nor why you so address'd your tale to me.

ORDONIO. Your mien is noble, and, I own, perplex'd me

Good Isidore !
With obscure memory of something past,

Why this to me? It is enough, you know it.
Which still escaped my efforts, or presented
Tricks of a fancy pamper'd with long wishing.

A common trick of Gratitude, my Lord,
If, as it sometimes happens, our rude startling
Whilst your full heart was shaping out its dream,

Seeking to ease her own full heart
Drove you to this, your not ungentle wildness-
You have my sympathy, and so farewell

Enough, But if some undiscover'd wrongs oppress you,

A debt repaid ceases to be a debt. And you need strength to drag them into light,

You have it in your power to serve me greatly. The generous Valdez, and my Lord Ordonio,

ISIDORE. Have arm and will to aid a noble sufferer; And how, my Lord ? I pray you to name the thing. Nor shall you want my favorable pleading. I would climb up an ice-glaz'd precipice

[Exeunt TERESA and ALHADRA. To pluck a weed you fancied ! ALVAR (alone).

ORDONIO (with embarrassment and hesitation). "Tis strange! It cannot be! my Lord Ordonio!

Why—that LadyHer Lord Ordonio! Nay, I will not do it! I cursed him once-and one curse is enough!

'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!

ORDONIO. If the bad spirit retain'd his angel's voice,

O miserable (Aside Hell scarce were Hell. And why not innocent ? Isidore! you are a man, and know mankind. Who meant to murder me, might well cheat her? I told you what I wish'd—now for the truth ! But ere she married him, he had stain'd her honor; She loy'd the man you kill'd. Ah! there I am hamper’d. What if this were a lie ISIDORE (looking as suddenly alarmed). Framed by the assassin ? Who should tell it him,

You jest, my Lord ? If it were truth? Ordonio would not tell him.

ORDONIO. Yet why one lie ? all else, I know, was truth. And till his death is proved, she will not wed me.

ALHADRA.

ISIDORE.

ORDONIO.

ISIDORE.

ISIDORE.

ORDONIO.

ISIDORE.

ORDONIO.

ISIDORE.

ORDONIO.

ISIDORE.

ISIDORE.

ORDONIO.

ISIDORE.
You sport with me, my Lord ?

My Lord—my Lord,
ORDONIO.

I can bear much-yes, very much from you! Come, come ! this foolery But there's a point where sufferance is meanness : Lives only in thy looks: thy heart disowns it! I am no villain-never kill'd for hire

My gratitude-
ISIDORE.
I can bear this, and any thing more grievous
From you, my Lord—but how can I serve you here?

O ay-your gratitude !

'Twa a well-sounding word—what havo you done ORDONIO.

with it? Why, you can utter with a solemn gesture

ISIDORE. Oracular sentences of deep no-meaning,

Who proffers his past favors for my virtueWear a quaint garment, make mysterious antics

ORDONIO (with briller scorn).

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

ISIDORE.

Tries to o'erreach me is a very sharper, In blunt terms, you can play the sorcerer.

And should not speak of gratitude, my Lord. She hath no faith in Holy Church, 't is true :

I knew not 't was your brother! Her lover schoold her in some newer nonsense!

ORDONIO (alarmed). Yet still a tale of spirits works upon her.

And who told you?
She is a lone enthusiast, sensitive,
Shivers, and cannot keep the tears in her eye:

He himself told me.
And such do love the marvellous too well
Not to believe it. We will wind up her fancy

Ha! you talk'd with him! With a strange music, that she knows not of

And those, the two Morescoes who were with you? With fumes of frankincense, and mummery, Then leave, as one sure token of his death, Both fell in a night-brawl at Malaga. That portrait, which from off the dead man's neck

ORDONIO (in a low voice). I bade thee take, the trophy of thy conquest.

My brotherISIDORE. Will that be a sure sign?

Yes, my Lord, I could not tell you !

I thrust away the thought-it drove me wild.
Beyond suspicion.

But listen to me now-I pray you listen-
Fondly caressing him, her favor'd lover
(By some base spell he had bewitch'd her senses), Villain! no more! I'll hear no more of it.
She whisper'd such dark fears of me, forsooth,

ISIDORE.
As made this heart pour gall into my veins.

My Lord, it much imports your future safety
And as she coyly bound it round his neck,

That you should hear it.
She made him promise silence; and now holds
The secret of the existence of this portrait,

ORDONIO (turning off from ISIDORE.)
Known only to her lover and herself.

Am not I a Man! But I had traced her, stolen unnoticed on them,

'Tis as it should be! tut-the deed itself And unsuspected saw and heard the whole.

Was idle, and these after-pangs still idler!
But now I should have cursed the man who told me We met him in the very place you mention'd.
You could ask aught, my Lord, and I refuse-

Hard by a grove of firs-
But this I cannot do.
ORDONIO.

Enough-enough-
Where lies your scruple ?
ISIDORE (with slammering).

He fought us valiantly, and wounded all ;
Why-why, my Lord ! In fine, compellid a parley.
You know you told me that the lady loved you,

ORDONIO (sighing, as if lost in thoughs).
Had loved you with incautious tenderness;

Alvar! brother! That if the young man, her betrothed husband,

ISIDORE. Returned, yourself, and she, and the honor of both He offer'd me his purseMust perish. Now, though with no tenderer scruples

ORDONIO (with eager suspicion). Than those which being native to the heart,

Yes? Than those, my Lord, which merely being a man

ISIDORE (indignantly). ORDONIO (aloud, though lo express his contempt

Yes, I spurn'd it.he speaks in the third person).

He promised us I know not what-in vain! This fellow iş 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,

ORDONIO.

ISIDORE.

ISIDORE.

ORDONIO.

ISIDORE.