A scathing curse!
You hate him, don’t you, lady?
Teresa. Oh fear not me! my heart is sad for you. 185
Alhadra. These fell inquisitors! these sons of blood!
As I came on, his face so maddened me,
That ever and anon I clutched my dagger
And half unsheathed it ——
Teresa. Be more calm, I pray you.
Alhadra. And as he walked along the narrow path 190
Close by the mountain’s edge, my soul grew eager;
‘Twas with hard toil I made myself remember
That his Familiars held my babes and husband.
To have leapt upon him with a tiger’s plunge,
And hurl’d him down the rugged precipice, 195
O, it had been most sweet!
Teresa. Hush! hush for shame!
Where is your woman’s heart?
Alhadra. O gentle lady!
You have no skill to guess my many wrongs,
Many and strange! Besides, I am a Christian,
And Christians never pardon—’tis their faith! 200
Teresa. Shame fall on those who so have shewn it to thee!
Alhadra. I know that man; ‘tis well he knows not me.
Five years ago (and he was the prime agent),
Five years ago the holy brethren seized me.
Teresa. What might your crime be?
Alhadra. I was a Moresco! 205
They cast me, then a young and nursing mother,
Into a dungeon of their prison house,
Where was no bed, no fire, no ray of light,
No touch, no sound of comfort! The black air,
It was a toil to breathe it! when the door, 210
Slow opening at the appointed hour, disclosed
One human countenance, the lamp’s red flame
Cowered as it entered, and at once sank down.
Oh miserable! by that lamp to see
My infant quarrelling with the coarse hard bread 215
Brought daily; for the little wretch was sickly —
My rage had dried away its natural food.
In darkness I remained — the dull bell counting,
Which haply told me, that the all-cheering sun
Was rising on our garden. When I dozed, 220
My infant’s moanings mingled with my slumbers
And waked me. — If you were a mother, lady,
I should scarce dare to tell you, that its noises
And peevish cries so fretted on my brain
That I have struck the innocent babe in anger. 225
Teresa. O Heaven! it is too horrible to hear.
Alhadra. What was it then to suffer? ‘Tis most right
That such as you should hear it. — Know you not,
What nature makes you mourn, she bids you heal?
Great evils ask great passions to redress them, 230
And whirlwinds fitliest scatter pestilence.
Teresa. You were at length released?
Alhadra. Yes, at length
I saw the blessed arch of the whole heaven!
‘Twas the first time my infant smiled. No more —
For if I dwell upon that moment, Lady, 235
A trance comes on which makes me o’er again
All I then was — my knees hang loose and drag,
And my lip falls with such an idiot laugh,
That you would start and shudder!
Teresa. But your husband —
Alhadra. A month’s imprisonment would kill him, Lady. 240
Teresa. Alas, poor man!
Alhadra. He hath a lion’s courage,
Fearless in act, but feeble in endurance;
Unfit for boisterous times, with gentle heart
He worships nature in the hill and valley,
Not knowing what he loves, but loves it all — 245
Enter ALVAR disguised as a Moresco, and in Moorish garments.
Teresa. Know you that stately Moor?
Alhadra. I know him not:
But doubt not he is some Moresco chieftain,
Who hides himself among the Alpujarras.
Teresa. The Alpujarras? Does he know his danger,
So near this seat?
Alhadra. He wears the Moorish robes too, 250
As in defiance of the royal edict.
[ALHADRA advances to ALVAR, who has walked to the back
of the stage, near the rocks. TERESA drops her
veil.
Alhadra. Gallant Moresco! An inquisitor,
Monviedro, of known hatred to our race ——
Alvar. You have mistaken me. I am a Christian.
Alhadra. He deems, that we are plotting to ensnare him: 255
Speak to him, Lady — none can hear you speak,
And not believe you innocent of guile.
Teresa. If aught enforce you to concealment, Sir —
Alhadra. He trembles strangely.
[ALVAR sinks down and hides his face in his robe.
Teresa. See, we have disturbed him.
[Approaches nearer to him.
I pray you, think us friends — uncowl your face, 260
For you seem faint, and the night-breeze blows healing.
I pray you, think us friends!
Alvar (raising his head). Calm, very calm!
‘Tis all too tranquil for reality!
And she spoke to me with her innocent voice, 265
That voice, that innocent voice! She is no traitress!
Teresa. Let us retire (haughtily to Alhadra).
Alhadra. He is indeed a Christian.
Alvar (aside). She deems me dead, yet wears no mourning garment!
Why should my brother’s — wife — wear mourning garments? 270
[To TERESA.
Your pardon, noble dame! that I disturbed you:
I had just started from a frightful dream.
Teresa. Dreams tell but of the past, and yet, ‘tis said,
They prophesy —
Alvar. The Past lives o’er again
In its effects, and to the guilty spirit 275
The ever-frowning