The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 20

_Maria._ Idly-prating man!

He was most virtuous.

_Albert (still to Osorio)._ What if his very virtues Had pamper'd his swoln heart, and made him proud?

And what if pride had duped him into guilt, Yet still he stalk'd, a self-created G.o.d, 95 Not very bold, but excellently cunning; And one that at his mother's looking-gla.s.s, Would force his features to a frowning sternness?

Young lord! I tell thee, that there are such beings,-- Yea, and it gives fierce merriment to the d.a.m.n'd, 100 To see these most proud men, that loathe mankind, At every stir and buz of coward conscience, Trick, cant, and lie, most whining hypocrites!

Away! away! Now let me hear more music. [_Music as before._

_Albert._ The spell is mutter'd--come, thou wandering shape, 105 Who own'st no master in an eye of flesh, Whate'er be this man's doom, fair be it or foul, If he be dead, come quick, and bring with thee That which he grasp'd in death; and if he lives, Some token of his obscure perilous life. 110

[_The whole orchestra crashes into one chorus._

Wandering demon! hear the spell Lest a blacker charm compel!

[_A thunder-clap. The incense on the altar takes fire suddenly._

_Maria._ This is some trick--I know, it is a trick.

Yet my weak fancy, and these bodily creepings, Would fain give substance to the shadow.[555:1]

_Velez (advancing to the altar)._ Hah! 115 A picture!

_Maria._ O G.o.d! _my_ picture?

_Albert (gazing at Maria with wild impatient distressfulness)._ Pale--pale--deadly pale!

_Maria._ He grasp'd it when he died.

[_She swoons. ALBERT rushes to her and supports her._

_Albert._ My love! my wife!

Pale--pale, and cold! My love! my wife! Maria!

[_VELEZ is at the altar. OSORIO remains near him in a state of stupor._

_Osorio (rousing himself)._ Where am I? 'Twas a lazy chilliness. 120

_Velez (takes and conceals the picture in his robe)._ This way, my son! She must not see this picture.

Go, call the attendants! Life will soon ebb back!

[_VELEZ and OSORIO leave the stage._

_Albert._ Her pulse doth flutter. Maria! my Maria!

_Maria (recovering--looks round)._ I heard a voice--but often in my dreams, I hear that voice, and wake; and try, and try, 125 To hear it waking--but I never could!

And 'tis so now--even so! Well, he is dead, Murder'd perhaps! and I am faint, and feel As if it were no painful thing to die!

_Albert (eagerly)._ Believe it not, sweet maid! believe it not, 130 Beloved woman! 'Twas a low imposture Framed by a guilty wretch.

_Maria._ Ha! who art thou?

_Albert (exceedingly agitated)._ My heart bursts over thee!

_Maria._ Didst _thou_ murder him?

And dost thou now repent? Poor troubled man!

I do forgive thee, and may Heaven forgive thee! 135

_Albert (aside)._ Let me be gone.

_Maria._ If thou didst murder him, His spirit ever, at the throne of G.o.d, Asks mercy for thee, prays for mercy for thee, With tears in heaven!

_Albert._ Albert was not murder'd.

Your foster-mother----

_Maria._ And doth she know aught? 140

_Albert._ She knows not aught--but haste thou to her cottage To-morrow early--bring Lord Velez with thee.

There ye must meet me--but your servants come.

_Maria (wildly)._ Nay--nay--but tell me!

[_A pause--then presses her forehead._

Ah! 'tis lost again!

This dead confused pain! [_A pause--she gazes at ALBERT._ Mysterious man! 145 Methinks, I cannot fear thee--for thine eye Doth swim with pity--I will lean on thee.

[_Exeunt ALBERT and MARIA._

_Re-enter VELEZ and OSORIO._

_Velez (sportively)._ You shall not see the picture, till you own it.[556:1]

_Osorio._ This mirth and raillery, sir! beseem your age.

I am content to be more serious.[556:2] 150

_Velez._ Do you think I did not scent it from the first?

An excellent scheme, and excellently managed.

'Twill blow away her doubts, and now she'll wed you, I'faith, the likeness is most admirable.

I saw the trick--yet these old eyes grew dimmer 155 With very foolish tears, it look'd so like him!

_Osorio._ Where should I get her portrait?

_Velez._ Get her portrait?

Portrait? You mean the picture! At the painter's-- No difficulty then--but that you lit upon A fellow that could play the sorcerer, 160 With such a grace and terrible majesty, It was most rare good fortune. And how deeply He seem'd to suffer when Maria swoon'd, And half made love to her! I suppose you'll ask me Why did he so?

_Osorio (with deep tones of suppressed agitation)._ Ay, wherefore did he so? 165

_Velez._ Because you bade him--and an excellent thought!

A mighty man, and gentle as he is mighty.

He'll wind into her confidence, and rout A host of scruples--come, confess, Osorio!