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Alv. By heaven, I see thy mother in thy face!
Thou god-like man, what shall I say to thee?
Oh! let my tears fall on this noble hand,
And speak a burning soul!

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
I did command Florinda, on the pain
Of heaviest imprecation, ne'er to gazo
Upon thy face again.

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?
Flor. My lord!

Alv. Come, you confess it;

Your looks reveal your heart: and Count Pescara
Interpreted the silent tear aright,

When first I bade you wed him.

Flor. Let my grave,

Oh! let a couch of lead, let the cold shroud,
And the earth's grass, be all my place of rest,
Ere Count Pescara, at heaven's awful shrine,
Claims from these lips the perjured oath to love
The man from whom my sinking heart recoils.
Hem. Howe'er you deal with me, let not
Florinda be wedded to that villain !—

Alv. Hear me, Moor!

Pescara is Grenada's governor,

And bears the sway of Philip ;-long he loved
And wooed Florinda with her father's sanction.

Thou art a Moor-thy nation is a slave:

And, though from Moorish kings thou art descended,
The Christian spurns thee; yet it is to thee

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,
"This is the man who saved me!" can I feel
The pleasures of existence-can I breathe
The morning air, or see the dying day

Sink in the western sky

-can I inhale
The rose's perfume, or behold the lights
That shine forever in yon infinite heaven
Or can I taste one joy that nature gives
To this, our earthly tarrying-place-nor think
That 'tis to him I owe each little flower
I tread on in life's bleakness?

E'en now I place my hand upon my heart,
And, as it throbs, there is a voice within
That tells this throbbing heart it would be still,
Were not Hemeya brave.-This is my father—-
[Crosses to Alvarez

He gave that life Hemeya did preserve;
And when he gives my hand in recompense,
I cannot but obey.

Pes. I thank you, madam ;

And, since it seems that gratitude's the fashion,
Your pains shall be requited.-Know, fair maid,
The daughter of Alvarez never shall

Be wedded to a Moor; nay, do not start-
Never!

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!
One of that race that we have trodden down

From empire's height, and crushed-a damned Morisco,
Accursed of the church, and by the laws

Proscribed and branded.—What, you choose a Moor
To swell the stream of your nobility

With his polluted blood?-in sooth, 'tis pleasant!
Hem. You have forgot me; you forget yourself.-
Through centuries of glory, on the heads

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.→
s not that Pescara once, within
ition's dungeons, toiled at torture?—
ip found you, and his kindred soul
soft sympathy.
birth!-confusion-

I ever feel the reptile crawl,
pointed at ?-what if I rush,

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!
They'd make a Christian of me-Philip proscribes
My nation and my creed; and on the pain
Of instant death, unless he publicly

Abjure his prophet's law, no Moor can wed
A Christian woman.

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 form may wither in the gripe of grief-

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
The faith of Mahomet, renounce Florinda!

[Exit, R.

Hem. Oh, misery !-my Florinda, look upon me!

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