With all the boiling revelries of pleasure — 90
These grow in the heart, yea, intertwine their roots
With its minutest fibres! And that Being
Who made us, laughs to scorn the lying faith,
Whose puny precepts, like a wall of sand,
Would stem the full tide of predestined Nature! 95
Naomi (who turns toward Francesco with his sword). Speak!
All (to Alhadra). Speak!
Alhadra. Is the murderer of your chieftain dead?
Now as God liveth, who hath suffer’d him
To make my children orphans, none shall die
Till I have seen his blood!
Off with him to the vessel!
[A part of the Morescoes hurry him off.
Alhadra. The Tyger, that with unquench’d cruelty, 100
Still thirsts for blood, leaps on the hunter’s spear
With prodigal courage. ‘Tis not so with man.
Maurice. It is not so, remember that, my friends!
Cowards are cruel, and the cruel cowards.
Alhadra. Scatter yourselves, take each a separate way, 105
And move in silence to the house of Velez. [Exeunt.
SCENE. — A Dungeon.
ALBERT (alone) rises slowly from a bed of reeds.
Albert. And this place my forefathers made for men!
This is the process of our love and wisdom
To each poor brother who offends against us —
Most innocent, perhaps — and what if guilty? 110
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, 115
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 120
Seen thro’ the steaming 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 ever more deformity! 125
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 woods, and winds, and waters, 130
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,
His angry spirit heal’d and harmoniz’d 135
By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
[A noise at the dungeon-door. It opens, and OSORIO
enters with a goblet in his hand.
Osorio. Hail, potent wizard! In my gayer mood
I pour’d forth a libation to old Pluto;
And as I brimm’d the bowl, I thought of thee!
Albert (in a low voice). I have not summon’d up my heart to
give 140
That pang, which I must give thee, son of Velez!
Osorio (with affected levity). Thou hast conspired against my
life and honour,
Hast trick’d me foully; yet I hate thee not!
Why should I hate thee? This same world of ours —
It is a puddle in a storm of rain, 145
And we the air-bladders, that course up and down,
And joust and tilt in merry tournament,
And when one bubble runs foul of another,
[Waving his hand at ALBERT.
The lesser must needs break!
Albert. I see thy heart!
There is a frightful glitter in thine eye, 150
Which doth betray thee. Crazy-conscienc’d man,
This is the gaiety of drunken anguish,
Which fain would scoff away the pang of guilt,
And quell each human feeling!
Osorio. Feeling! feeling!
The death of a man — the breaking of a bubble. 155
‘Tis true, I cannot sob for such misfortunes!
But faintness, cold, and hunger — curses on me
If willingly I e’er inflicted them!
Come, share the beverage — this chill place demands it.
Friendship and wine! [OSORIO proffers him the goblet.
Albert. Yon insect on the wall, 160
Which moves this way and that its hundred legs,
Were it a toy of mere mechanic craft,
It were an infinitely curious thing!
But it has life, Osorio! life and thought;
And by the power of its miraculous will 165
Wields all the complex movements of its frame
Unerringly, to pleasurable ends!
Saw I that insect on this goblet’s brink,
I would remove it with an eager terror.
Osorio. What meanest thou?
Albert. There’s poison in the wine. 170
Osorio. Thou hast guess’d well. There’s poison in the wine.
Shall we throw dice, which of us two shall drink it?
For one of us must die!
Albert. Whom dost thou think me?
Osorio. The accomplice and sworn friend of Ferdinand.
Albert. Ferdinand! Ferdinand! ‘tis a name I know not. 175
Osorio. Good! good! that lie! by Heaven! it has restor’d me.
Now I am thy master! Villain, thou shalt drink it,
Or die a bitterer death.
Albert. What strange solution
Hast thou found out to satisfy thy fears,
And drug them to unnatural sleep?
[ALBERT takes the goblet, and with a sigh throws it
on the ground.
My master! 180
Osorio. Thou mountebank!
Albert. Mountebank and villain!