The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Poems, Plays, Essays, Lectures, Autobiography & Personal Letters (Illustrated). Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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under pain of death.

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      The Sea Shore on the Coast of Granada.

      DON ALVAR, wrapt in a Boat cloak, and ZULIMEZ (a Moresco), both as just landed.

      Zulimez. No sound, no face of joy to welcome us!

      Alvar. My faithful Zulimez, for one brief moment

       Let me forget my anguish and their crimes.

       If aught on earth demand an unmix’d feeling,

       ‘Tis surely this — after long years of exile, 5

       To step forth on firm land, and gazing round us,

       To hail at once our country, and our birthplace.

       Hail, Spain! Granada, hail! once more I press

       Thy sands with filial awe, land of my fathers!

      Zulimez. Then claim your rights in it! O, revered Don Alvar, 10

       Yet, yet give up your all too gentle purpose.

       It is too hazardous! reveal yourself,

       And let the guilty meet the doom of guilt!

      Alvar. Remember, Zulimez! I am his brother,

       Injured indeed! O deeply injured! yet 15

       Ordonio’s brother.

      Zulimez. Nobly-minded Alvar!

       This sure but gives his guilt a blacker dye.

      Alvar. The more behoves it I should rouse within him

       Remorse! that I should save him from himself.

      Zulimez. Remorse is as the heart in which it grows: 20

       If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews

       Of true repentance; but if proud and gloomy,

       It is a poison-tree, that pierced to the inmost

       Weeps only tears of poison!

      Alvar. And of a brother,

       Dare I hold this, unproved? nor make one effort 25

       To save him? — Hear me, friend! I have yet to tell thee,

       That this same life, which he conspired to take,

       Himself once rescued from the angry flood,

       And at the imminent hazard of his own.

       Add too my oath —

      Zulimez. You have thrice told already 30

       The years of absence and of secrecy,

       To which a forced oath bound you; if in truth

       A suborned murderer have the power to dictate

       A binding oath —

      Alvar. My long captivity

       Left me no choice: the very wish too languished 35

       With the fond hope that nursed it; the sick babe

       Drooped at the bosom of its famished mother.

       But (more than all) Teresa’s perfidy;

       The assassin’s strong assurance, when no interest,

       No motive could have tempted him to falsehood: 40

       In the first pangs of his awaken’d conscience,

       When with abhorrence of his own black purpose

       The murderous weapon, pointed at my breast,

       Fell from his palsied hand —

      Zulimez. Heavy presumption!

      Alvar. It weighed not with me — Hark! I will tell thee all; 45

       As we passed by, I bade thee mark the base

       Of yonder cliff —

      Zulimez. That rocky seat you mean,

       Shaped by the billows? —

      Alvar. There Teresa met me

       The morning of the day of my departure.

       We were alone: the purple hue of dawn 50

       Fell from the kindling east aslant upon us,

       And blending with the blushes on her cheek,

       Suffused the tear-drops there with rosy light.

       There seemed a glory round us, and Teresa

       The angel of the vision!

      Had’st thou seen 55

       How in each motion her most innocent soul

       Beamed forth and brightened, thou thyself would’st tell me,

       Guilt is a thing impossible in her!

       She must be innocent!

      Zulimez. Proceed, my lord!

      Alvar. A portrait which she had procured by stealth, 60

       (For even then it seems her heart foreboded

       Or knew Ordonio’s moody rivalry)

       A portrait of herself with thrilling hand

       She tied around my neck, conjuring me,

       With earnest prayers, that I would keep it sacred 65

       To my own knowledge: nor did she desist,

       Till she had won a solemn promise from me,

       That (save my own) no eye should e’er behold it

       Till my return. Yet this the assassin knew,

       Knew that which none but she could have disclosed. 70

      Zulimez. A damning proof!

      Alvar. My own life wearied me!

       And but for the imperative voice within,

       With mine own hand I had thrown off the burthen.

       That voice, which quelled me, calmed me: and I sought

       The Belgic states: there joined the better cause; 75

       And there too fought as one that courted death!

       Wounded, I fell among the dead and dying,

       In death-like trance: a long imprisonment followed.

       The fulness of my anguish by degrees

       Waned to a meditative melancholy; 80

       And still the more I mused, my soul became

       More doubtful, more perplexed; and still Teresa,

       Night after night, she visited my sleep,

       Now as a saintly sufferer, wan and tearful,

       Now as a saint in glory beckoning to me! 85

       Yes, still as in contempt of proof and reason,

       I cherish the fond faith that she is guiltless!

       Hear then my fix’d resolve: I’ll linger here

       In the disguise of a Moresco chieftain. —

       The Moorish robes? —

      Zulimez. All, all are in the sea-cave, 90

       Some furlong hence. I bade our mariners

       Secrete the boat there.

      Alvar. Above all, the picture

       Of the assassination —

      Zulimez. Be assured

       That