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Pray, let me kiss it. Oh, 'tis she! 'tis real!
To every touch of thine, that the sweet contact
Since last we parted!
Flor. Scoff thee, Octavian !-Ah! thou little know'st How often I have wept away the night
With thinking on thy fortunes; but, alas!
I ne'er thought this! Oh! what hast thou endured!
Oct. Pish! that's nothing,
I heeded not the storm. Why, I remember,
When last the forked lightning struck me down,
I lay upon the rock, and smiled to see
The feeble malice of the elements.
'Tis here [Pointing to his breast.]—here, only, I am v. '.
1 have been galled too deep within, Floranthe,
To think upon the petty sufferance
Felt by a holiday and silken fool,
When the rough tempest beats against his body.
I will pour balm into thy bleeding wounds,
Oct. Get thee back!
He who would snatch thee from me, though he fell,— Fell by this arm, met not his death by me.
I had not fled three days ere I did learn it.
And, sure, thy father, whose delight it is
Flor. Then let me greet him here!-For here, Octavian,
In firm and maiden holiness I swear,
If thou dost never lead me to the altar,
My life shall waste in cloistered solitude;
Oct. How's this?-What! has thy father, then--Impos
Does he relent?
Flor. Alas! he is no more!
I needs must grieve, for still he was my father.
Oct. Art thou mine, then?
[Bursts into hysterical laughter. Faith, I am very weak: pray pardon me. 'Tis somewhat sudden, this: I am unused Το any touch of joy, and it o'ercomes me. I shall weep soon, and then I shall be better. Flor. Nay, calm thy spirits-pr'ythee, now! Oct. Well, well!
Look on me, sweet-my own beloved Floranthe!
Flor. Restrain this passion:
These starts do wear thee sadly. We will leave this gloom.
Oct. Let us on.
As I do cool, I shudder at myself;
And look with horror back upon this waste,
Where, cheerless, I have strayed, shut out from man,
Have with thee, sweet! I know each turn and thicket.
SCENE IV.-The Sierra de Ronda.
Enter VIROLET, ZORAYDA, and KILMALLOCK, R.
See here we measure back the self-same steps
Kilm. Faith, Count, then this falls out according to my old luck. How hard it is upon industrious travellers, who follow their noses on a journey, to find out they have been only walking backwards after all! If the world do go round, as they say, certain it has taken a twist extraordinary in the night; else the two sides of the mountain could never have fairly changed places.
Viro. [To Zorayda.] I pr'ythee, be of comfort.
To keep my heart from sinking; yet these perils
I dreamt my father came to me in wrath,
Kilm. I seldom knew a woman to go to sleep, that she did not dream upon mischief. "Of a truth, though, when
a grim fellow flourishes his dagger before the closed "eyes of a lady, it must make her lie a little uneasy."Well, 'tis no wonder we have, at last, lost our road; for the devil of anything like one is there in this whole abominable Sierra de Ronda.
Viro. Yon rock, which rises in a rugged spire,
Kilm. By my soul, now, you have hit on't! What an advantage it is to a head to be gifted with brains! I had pondered all day ere I had stumbled on such an expedient, which carries with it only one small objection.
Viro. What is't, Kilmallock?
Kilm. 'Tis so steep and perpendicular, that old Satan himself could never get up.
Viro. Tut, man! I warrant-we'll assist each other. Kilm. Faith, and that's true again; but I defy any human creature living to master it alone, but a cat or a monkey.
Viro. Sure, naught can harm her here. Sweet, lest awhile:
Straight we will both return, and bring, I trust,
From this same briary labyrinth.
Come, honest comrade, and I swear to thee,
Kilm. Pish, Count! What, for scrambling up a rock! When I was a greenhorn, I would have gone as far after a bird's nest. Oh, St. Iago! may the man that falters to risk his neck for a friend and a female in a mountain, break it while he's a boy climbing for eggs in an orchard! [Exeunt Virolet and Kilmallock, L. Zoray. I know not why it is, at this our parting, My blood should flow so chilly through my veins. 'Tis not fatigue, for I have slept-is't fear? Sure no, for I do now most firmly trust "There is a power to throw its sacred shield "Before the zealous follower of its laws, “And ward off every danger." I will rest me Till they come back again; for there is something Strange and unwonted weighs upon my spirit, Till my weary body totters. [Rests on a bank, R. S. E.
Enter BULCAZIN MULEY, R.
Bulca. Curses on them!
Fortune has poured her dregs of malice on me,
'Tis she! alone, too!-She seems weak and sinking. Oh, my poor child! my stubborn, wayward child! Shame on't! I shall forget my injuries!
Zoray. [Rising.] Oh, heaven and earth! my father! Bulca. Ay, look on me. Thou canst not.
There still is left some touch of shame within thee.
The holy zeal that led me from thy house
Burns high within me now: that frown, my father,
Bulca. "Why, 'tis bravely said
"Down, passion, down!-our parley shall be brief:"
Hast thou a companion in thy flight?
Zoray. My father,
I should disgrace the faith I follow now
Had he not proved himself well schooled in honour,
Bulca. Pestilence and torture!
Dost own it, wretch? Thou hast disgraced in thee
[Draws his cimetar and offers to kill her. Enter FLORANTHE, OCTAVIAN, and ROQUE, L. Oct Ruffian, hold!
Advance thine arm the tithe part of a hair