Alv. By heaven, I see thy mother in thy face! Hem. I am rewarded. Alv. Brave, generous man! Hem. Nay, good my lord, you overpay My poor desert, and grow my creditor :But you forget me-I am most unworthyI am the Moor. Alv. No:-I remember well; Thou art hateful to the Christian.-Yesterday Flor. Oh, my dear father, Florinda can be wretched, if you please, But not ungrateful, too! Alv. Give me thy hand :-you love the Mocr? Alv. Come, you confess it; Your looks reveal your heart: and Count Pescara When first I bade you wed him. Flor. Let my grave, Oh! let a couch of lead, let the cold shroud, Alv. Hear me, Moor! Pescara is Grenada's governor, And bears the sway of Philip ;-long he loved Thou art a Moor-thy nation is a slave: And, though from Moorish kings thou art descended, I give Florinda's hand. Flor. What do I hear? Hem. Am I in heaven ?-Oh, speak, speak, Count AL varez. in !-let me be sure of it, ubt my senses. is yours! ich of you shall I kneel to let me press nd knees within my straining armswild with rapture; men will say ing planet smote me with its power. hou art mine! my wife! my joy! [Crosses to 1. isite perfection!-thou fair creature! shall part us? As he embraces her, PESCARA enters, L. -speak, Count Alvarez. I behold?-don't look upon me never had beheld my face. cara-you have not to learn unt Pescara is?-who ever wronged me not perish? I had come to greet you, passed, the rascal rabble talked wild dotard vow, some graybeard's folly ;a wretch that dared to slander you, ed him to the earth for the vile falsehood. E gratitude be crime What do I hear? What you shall hear again. [Crosses to Pescara. Moor, not from thee ;— not let thee speak a Spaniard's shame. to Florinda.] You, madam, will inform me; you, hose eyes t upon the ground-whose yielding form em like sculptured modesty; nay, tell me, ave tidings for your ear. My lord, I do confess, ne to the Moor. And you obey him; Te obedience is an easy my father's will virtue. . Yes; where my heart swells with the glowing sense der, thrilling gratitude!-my being in its deep recess the consciousness t is all his own nay, think, my lord, Can I behold his face, and not exclaim, Sink in the western sky -can I inhale E'en now I place my hand upon my heart, He gave that life Hemeya did preserve; Pes. I thank you, madam ; And, since it seems that gratitude's the fashion, Be wedded to a Moor; nay, do not start- Hem. My lord! Pes. No-never! Alv. Count Pescara! what is it that you mean? Pes. I mean, my lord, That others have more care of your nobility Than you have ta'en yourself.-Ha! ha! a Moor! From empire's height, and crushed-a damned Morisco, Proscribed and branded.—What, you choose a Moor With his polluted blood?-in sooth, 'tis pleasant! Of my great ancestors, the dia lem Shone through the world, and from each royal brow Came down with gath'ring splendour;-and if here more-'tis fate! but what art thou? Crosses to Pescara. of fortune could not make me base; f fortune could not make thee noble.→ I ever feel the reptile crawl, a blow strike life from out his heart? my dagger is my last resource. [Draws a roll of parchment from his bosom. or, within thy grasp I plant a serpent, stings, think 'tis Pescara's answer— night it reached me from Madrid, art first to hear it. Look you here : sus were heaped between you both, is snows-his snows have not the pow'r e your amorous passion half so soon 's will.-Farewell-but not forever [Gives the parchment to Hemeya, and exit, L s Philip's will!-rumour went late abroad, loomy sovereign had decreed to crush e to deeper servitude.-Florinda, o terrified. Can I behold ck convulsive passions o'er his face, d his soul's deep agony, nor feel r in my heart? [Crosses to Hemeya.] Tell me, Hemeya, eavy blow relentless fortune strikes ther misery is still in store upon our heads. - A Christian!-no! - Wilt thou not speak to me? wilt thou not chase readful fears that throng about my soul? nou not speak to me? . Accursed tyrant! da, wilt thou leave me ?-can my fate ngs and priests-e'er pluck thee from my soul? Flor. No! Hem. Then, Florinda, thus I spurn the tyrant! Abjure his prophet's law, no Moor can wed Flor. Well, dost thou renounce me? Alv. Hear me, Hemeya !—will you yield obedience To Philip's will, and swear yourself a Christian? Hem. A Christian! Alv. Ay! it is the law. Hem. The law ! What law can teach me to renounce my country? Alv. Then choose between your prophet and Florinda Hem. Wilt thou abandon me ? [To Florinda. Alv. Let my deep curse fall on her headFlor. Don't breathe those dreadful wordsDo I deserve that you should doubt me ?-no! In infancy I gazed upon your face With an instinctive reverence, that grew To reason's tender dictate: never yet Have I offended you; and let me say, My tears may flow from eyes long used to weeping- My heart may break indeed; love can do this; But never can it teach Florinda's hand To draw down sorrows on a father's age, Or to deserve his curse. Hem. This, this from thee? Flor. You've found the dreadful secret of my soul! But hold—what am I doing?—pride, where art thou? Am I so fallen in passion ?-oh, my father, Lead me from hence! Hem. Florinda, stay one moment -don't abandon me. Don't leave me Flor. My father, lead me hence! Alv. [To Hemeya.] You have heard Alvarez' will— Take one day for decision: if to-morrow You do not, in the face of heav'n, renounce [Exit, R. Hem. Oh, misery !-my Florinda, look upon me! |