[After 117] _Ord. (starts)._ A gust, &c. Remorse.

[121-3] Shame . . . dog om. Remorse.

[Between 125 and 140.]

_Isidore._ They'll know my gait: but stay! last night I watched A stranger near the ruin in the wood, Who as it seemed was gathering herbs and wild flowers.

I had followed him at distance, seen him scale Its western wall, and by an easier entrance Stole after him unnoticed. There I marked, That mid the chequer work of light and shade, With curious choice he plucked no other flowers, But those on which the moonlight fell: and once I heard him muttering o'er the plant. A wizard-- Some gaunt slave prowling here for dark employment.

_Ordonio._ Doubtless you question'd him?

_Isidore._ 'Twas my intention, Having first traced him homeward to his haunt.

But lo! the stern Dominican, whose spies Lurk everywhere, already (as it seemed) Had given commission to his apt familiar To seek and sound the Moor; who now returning, Was by this trusty agent stopped midway.

I, dreading fresh suspicion if found near him In that lone place, again concealed myself; Yet within hearing. So the Moor was question'd, And in your name, as lord of this domain, Proudly he answered, 'Say to the Lord Ordonio,

Remorse.

[143] robe] robes Remorse.

[144] Stage-direction, _a_] _the_ Remorse.

[147] You cannot err. It is a small green dell Remorse.

[Between 158 and 205:]

_Ordonio (in retiring stops suddenly at the edge of the scene, and then turning round to ISIDORE)._ Ha! Who lurks there! Have we been overheard?

There where the smooth high wall of slate-rock glitters----

_Isidore._ 'Neath those tall stones, which propping each the other, Form a mock portal with their pointed arch?

Pardon my smiles! 'Tis a poor idiot boy, Who sits in the sun, and twirls a bough about, His weak eyes seeth'd in most unmeaning tears.

And so he sits, swaying his cone-like head, And, staring at his bough from morn to sun-set, See-saws his voice in inarticulate noises.

_Ordonio._ 'Tis well! and now for this same wizard's lair.

_Isidore._ Some three strides up the hill, a mountain ash Stretches its lower boughs and scarlet cl.u.s.ters O'er the old thatch.

_Ordonio._ I shall not fail to find it.

[_Exeunt ORDONIO and ISIDORE._

SCENE II.

_The inside of a Cottage, around which flowers and plants of various kinds are seen. Discovers ALVAR, ZULIMEZ and ALHADRA, as on the point of leaving._

_Alhadra (addressing ALVAR)._ Farewell then! and though many thoughts perplex me, Aught evil or ign.o.ble never can I Suspect of thee! If what thou seem'st thou art, The oppressed brethren of thy blood have need Of such a leader.

_Alvar._ n.o.bly minded woman!

Long time against oppression have I fought, And for the native liberty of faith Have bled and suffered bonds. Of this be certain: Time, as he courses onward, still unrolls The volume of concealment. In the future, As in the optician's gla.s.sy cylinder, The indistinguishable blots and colours Of the dim past collect and shape themselves, Upstarting in their own completed image To scare or to reward.

I sought the guilty, And what I sought I found: but ere the spear Flew from my hand, there rose an angel form Betwixt me and my aim. With baffled purpose To the Avenger I leave Vengeance, and depart!

Whate'er betide, if aught my arm may aid, Or power protect, my word is pledged to thee: For many are thy wrongs, and thy soul n.o.ble.

Once more, farewell. [_Exit ALHADRA._ Yes, to the Belgic states We will return. These robes, this stained complexion, Akin to falsehood, weigh upon my spirit.

Whate'er befall us, the heroic Maurice Will grant us an asylum, in remembrance Of our past services.

_Zulimez._ And all the wealth, power, influence which is yours, You let a murderer hold?

_Alvar._ O faithful Zulimez!

That my return involved Ordonio's death, I trust, would give me an unmingled pang, Yet bearable:--but when I see my father Strewing his scant grey hairs, e'en on the ground, Which soon must be his grave, and my Teresa-- Her husband proved a murderer, and her infants His infants--poor Teresa!--all would perish, All perish--all; and I (nay bear with me) Could not survive the complicated ruin!

_Zulimez._ Nay now! I have distress'd you--you well know, I ne'er will quit your fortunes. True, 'tis tiresome: You are a painter, one of many fancies!

You can call up past deeds, and make them live On the blank canva.s.s! and each little herb, That grows on mountain bleak, or tangled forest, You have learnt to name-- Hark! heard you not some footsteps?

_Alvar._ What if it were my brother coming onwards?

I sent a most mysterious message to him.

_Enter ORDONIO._

_Alvar._ It is he!

_Ordonio (to himself as he enters)._ If I distinguished right her gait and stature, It was the Moorish woman, Isidore's wife, That pa.s.sed me as I entered. A lit taper, In the night air, doth not more naturally Attract the night flies round it, than a conjuror Draws round him the whole female neighbourhood. [_Addressing ALVAR._ You know my name, I guess, if not my person.

Remorse.

[For lines 31-46 of Remorse, Act II, Scene II, vide _supra_ Osorio, Act II, Scene II, lines 169-84.]

Stage-direction preceding 162:

_Albert and an old servant both drest as Morescoes._ Corr. in MS. III.

[162-6] MS. III erased.

[167-8]

And all the wealth, power, influence, which is yours You let a murderer hold!

_Albert._ O faithful Ali

Corr. in MS. III.

[184-7]

_Albert._ Yes to the Netherlands We will return, these robes this stained complexion Akin to Falsehood, weigh upon my spirit What e'er befal us, the heroic Maurice Will grant us an asylum, in remembrance Of our past service.

Corr. in MS. III.

[200] After _Enter OSORIO._

Be quick Remove these tablets--quick conceal it--