Samuel Coleridge - The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Alhadra. Yes, at length

I saw the blessed arch of the whole heaven.

‘Twas the first time my infant smiled! No more. 235

For if I dwell upon that moment, lady,

A fit 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 ideot laugh

That you would start and shudder!

Maria. But your husband? 240

Alhadra. A month’s imprisonment would kill him, lady!

Maria. Alas, poor man!

Alhadra. He hath a lion’s courage,

But is not stern enough for fortitude.

Unfit for boisterous times, with gentle heart

He worships Nature in the hill and valley, 245

Not knowing what he loves, but loves it all!

[Enter ALBERT disguised as a Moresco, and in

Moorish garments.

Albert (not observing Maria and Alhadra). Three weeks have I been

loitering here, nor ever

Have summon’d up my heart to ask one question,

Or stop one peasant passing on this way.

Maria. Know you that man?

Alhadra. His person, not his name. 250

I doubt not, he is some Moresco chieftain

Who hides himself among the Alpuxarras.

A week has scarcely pass’d since first I saw him;

He has new-roof’d the desolate old cottage

Where Zagri lived — who dared avow the prophet 255

And died like one of the faithful! There he lives,

And a friend with him.

Maria. Does he know his danger

So near this seat?

Alhadra. He wears the Moorish robes too,

As in defiance of the royal edict.

[ALHADRA advances to ALBERT, who has walked to the

back of the stage near the rocks. MARIA drops

her veil.

Alhadra. Gallant Moresco! you are near the castle 260

Of the Lord Velez, and hard by does dwell

A priest, the creature of the Inquisition.

Albert (retiring). You have mistaken me — I am a Christian.

Alhadra (to Maria). He deems that we are plotting to ensnare him.

Speak to him, lady! none can hear you speak 265

And not believe you innocent of guile.

[ALBERT, on hearing this, pauses and turns round.

Maria. If aught enforce you to concealment, sir!

Alhadra. He trembles strangely.

[ALBERT sinks down and hides his face in his garment

[robe Remorse].

Maria. See — we have disturb’d him.

[Approaches nearer to him.

I pray you, think us friends — uncowl your face,

For you seem faint, and the night-breeze blows healing. 270

I pray you, think us friends!

Albert (raising his head). Calm — very calm;

‘Tis all too tranquil for reality!

And she spoke to me with her innocent voice.

That voice! that innocent voice! She is no traitress!

It was a dream, a phantom of my sleep, 275

A lying dream. [He starts up, and abruptly addresses her.

Maria! you are not wedded?

Maria (haughtily to Alhadra). Let us retire.

[They advance to the front of the stage.

Alhadra. He is indeed a

Christian.

Some stray Sir Knight, that falls in love of a sudden.

Maria. What can this mean? How should he know my name?

It seems all shadowy.

Alhadra. Here he comes again. 280

Albert (aside). She deems me dead, and yet no mourning garment!

Why should my brother’s wife wear mourning garments?

God of all mercy, make me, make me quiet! [To MARIA.

Your pardon, gentle maid! that I disturb’d you.

I had just started from a frightful dream. 285

Alhadra. These renegado Moors — how soon they learn

The crimes and follies of their Christian tyrants!

Albert. I dreamt I had a friend, on whom I lean’d

With blindest trust, and a betrothéd maid

Whom I was wont to call not mine, but me, 290

For mine own self seem’d nothing, lacking her!

This maid so idoliz’d, that trusted friend,

Polluted in my absence soul and body!

And she with him and he with her conspired

To have me murder’d in a wood of the mountains: 295

But by my looks and most impassion’d words

I roused the virtues, that are dead in no man,

Even in the assassins’ hearts. They made their terms,

And thank’d me for redeeming them from murder.

Alhadra (to Maria). You are lost in thought. Hear him no more,

sweet lady! 300

Maria. From morn to night I am myself a dreamer,

And slight things bring on me the idle mood.

Well, sir, what happen’d then?

Albert. On a rude rock,

A rock, methought, fast by a grove of firs

Whose threaddy leaves to the low breathing gale 305

Made a soft sound most like the distant ocean,

I stay’d as tho’ the hour of death were past,

And I were sitting in the world of spirits,

For all things seem’d unreal! There I sate.

The dews fell clammy, and the night descended, 310

Black, sultry, close! and ere the midnight hour

A storm came on, mingling all sounds of fear

That woods and sky and mountains seem’d one havock!

The second flash of lightning show’d a tree

Hard by me, newly-scathed. I rose tumultuous: 315

My soul work’d high: I bared my head to the storm,

And with loud voice and clamorous agony

Kneeling I pray’d to the great Spirit that made me,

Pray’d that Remorse might fasten on their hearts,

And cling, with poisonous tooth, inextricable 320

As the gored lion’s bite!

Maria. A fearful curse!

Alhadra. But dreamt you not that you return’d and kill’d him?

Dreamt you of no revenge?

Albert (his voice trembling, and in tones of deep distress). She

would have died,

Died in her sins — perchance, by her own hands!

And bending o’er her self-inflicted wounds 325

I might have met the evil glance of frenzy

And leapt myself into an unblest grave!

I pray’d for the punishment that cleanses hearts,

For still I loved her!

Alhadra. And you dreamt all this?

Maria. My soul is full of visions, all is wild! 330

Alhadra. There is no room in this heart for puling love-tales.

Lady! your servants there seem seeking us.

Maria (lifts up her veil and advances to Albert). Stranger,

farewell! I guess not who you are,

Nor why you so address’d your tale to me.

Your mien is noble, and, I own, perplex’d me 335

With obscure memory of something past,

Which still escap’d my efforts, or presented

Tricks of a fancy pamper’d with long-wishing.

If (as it sometimes happens) our rude startling,

While your full heart was shaping out its dream, 340

Drove you to this, your not ungentle wildness,

You have my sympathy, and so farewell!

But if some undiscover’d wrongs oppress you,

And you need strength to drag them into light,

The generous Velez, and my Lord Osorio 345

Have arm and will to aid a noble sufferer,

Nor shall you want my favourable pleading.

[Exeunt MARIA and ALHADRA.

Albert (alone). ‘Tis strange! it cannot be! my Lord Osorio!

Her Lord Osorio! Nay, I will not do it.

I curs’d him once, and one curse is enough. 350

How sad she look’d and pale! but not like guilt,

And her calm tones — sweet as a song of mercy!

If the bad spirit retain’d his angel’s voice,

Hell scarce were hell. And why not innocent?

Who meant to murder me might well cheat her. 355

But ere she married him, he had stain’d her honour.

Ah! there I am hamper’d. What if this were a lie

Fram’d by the assassin? who should tell it him

If it were truth? Osorio would not tell him.

Yet why one lie? All else, I know, was truth. 360

No start! no jealousy of stirring conscience!

And she referr’d to me — fondly, methought!

Could she walk here, if that she were a traitress?