The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Volume II Part 137
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Volume II Part 137

_Alvar._ Ordonio--he--

_Teresa._ If thou didst murder him-- His spirit ever at the throne of G.o.d Asks mercy for thee: prays for mercy for thee, 70 With tears in Heaven!

_Alvar._ Alvar was not murdered.

Be calm! Be calm, sweet maid!

_Teresa._ Nay, nay, but tell me! [_A pause._ O 'tis lost again!

This dull confused pain-- [_A pause._ Mysterious man!

Methinks I can not fear thee: for thine eye 75 Doth swim with love and pity--Well! Ordonio-- Oh my foreboding heart! And he suborned thee, And thou didst spare his life? Blessings shower on thee, As many as the drops twice counted o'er In the fond faithful heart of his Teresa! 80

_Alvar._ I can endure no more. The Moorish sorcerer Exists but in the stain upon his face.

That picture--

_Teresa._ Ha! speak on!

_Alvar._ Beloved Teresa!

It told but half the truth. O let this portrait Tell all--that Alvar lives--that he is here! 85 Thy much deceived but ever faithful Alvar.

[_Takes her portrait from his neck, and gives it her._

_Teresa (receiving the portrait)._ The same--it is the same! Ah!

Who art thou?

Nay, I will call thee, Alvar! [_She falls on his neck._

_Alvar._ O joy unutterable!

But hark! a sound as of removing bars At the dungeon's outer door. A brief, brief while 90 Conceal thyself, my love! It is Ordonio.

For the honour of our race, for our dear father; O for himself too (he is still my brother) Let me recall him to his n.o.bler nature, That he may wake as from a dream of murder! 95 O let me reconcile him to himself, Open the sacred source of penitent tears, And be once more his own beloved Alvar.

_Teresa._ O my all virtuous love! I fear to leave thee With that obdurate man.

_Alvar._ Thou dost not leave me! 100 But a brief while retire into the darkness: O that my joy could spread its sunshine round thee!

_Teresa._ The sound of thy voice shall be my music!

Alvar! my Alvar! am I sure I hold thee?

Is it no dream? thee in my arms, my Alvar! [_Exit._ 105

[_A noise at the Dungeon door. It opens, and ORDONIO enters, with a goblet in his hand._

_Ordonio._ Hail, potent wizard! in my gayer mood I poured forth a libation to old Pluto, And as I brimmed the bowl, I thought on thee.

Thou hast conspired against my life and honour, Hast tricked me foully; yet I hate thee not. 110 Why should I hate thee? this same world of ours, 'Tis but a pool amid a storm of rain, 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, 115 The weaker needs must break.

_Alvar._ I see thy heart!

There is a frightful glitter in thine eye Which doth betray thee. Inly-tortured man, This is the revelry of a drunken anguish, Which fain would scoff away the pang of guilt, 120 And quell each human feeling.

_Ordonio._ Feeling! feeling!

The death of a man--the breaking of a bubble-- 'Tis true I cannot sob for such misfortunes; But faintness, cold and hunger--curses on me If willingly I e'er inflicted them! 125 Come, take the beverage; this chill place demands it.

[_ORDONIO proffers the goblet._

_Alvar._ Yon insect on the wall, Which moves this way and that its hundred limbs, Were it a toy of mere mechanic craft, It were an infinitely curious thing! 130 But it has life, Ordonio! life, enjoyment!

And by the power of its miraculous will Wields all the complex movements of its frame Unerringly to pleasurable ends!

Saw I that insect on this goblet's brim 135 I would remove it with an anxious pity!

_Ordonio._ What meanest thou?

_Alvar._ There's poison in the wine.

_Ordonio._ Thou hast guessed right; there's poison in the wine.

There's poison in't--which of us two shall drink it?

For one of us must die!

_Alvar._ Whom dost thou think me? 140

_Ordonio._ The accomplice and sworn friend of Isidore.

_Alvar._ I know him not.

And yet methinks, I have heard the name but lately.

Means he the husband of the Moorish woman?

Isidore? Isidore? 145

_Ordonio._ Good! good! that lie! by heaven it has restored me.

Now I am thy master!--Villain! thou shalt drink it, Or die a bitterer death.

_Alvar._ What strange solution Hast thou found out to satisfy thy fears, And drug them to unnatural sleep?

[_ALVAR takes the goblet, and throws it to the ground._

My master! 150

_Ordonio._ Thou mountebank!

_Alvar._ Mountebank and villain!

What then art thou? For shame, put up thy sword!

What boots a weapon in a withered arm?

I fix mine eye upon thee, and thou tremblest!

I speak, and fear and wonder crush thy rage, 155 And turn it to a motionless distraction!

Thou blind self-worshipper! thy pride, thy cunning, Thy faith in universal villainy, Thy shallow sophisms, thy pretended scorn For all thy human brethren--out upon them! 160 What have they done for thee? have they given thee peace?

Cured thee of starting in thy sleep? or made The darkness pleasant when thou wak'st at midnight?

Art happy when alone? Can'st walk by thyself With even step and quiet cheerfulness? 165 Yet, yet thou may'st be saved----

_Ordonio._ Saved? saved?

_Alvar._ One pang!

Could I call up one pang of true remorse!

_Ordonio._ He told me of the babes that prattled to him.

His fatherless little ones! remorse! remorse!

Where got'st thou that fool's word? Curse on remorse! 170 Can it give up the dead, or recompact A mangled body? mangled--dashed to atoms!

Not all the blessings of a host of angels Can blow away a desolate widow's curse!