ELMINA (covering her face with her hands). My boy's proud eye is on me, and the things Which rush, in stormy darkness, through my soul, Shrink from his glance. I cannot answer here. ABDULLAH. Come forth. We'll commune elsewhere. CARLOS (to his mother). Oh! let me follow thee! ELMINA. Wilt thou go? Mine own fair child! -Now that thine eyes have pour'd once more on mine The light of their young smile, and thy sweet voice Hath sent its gentle music through my soul, And I have felt the twining of thine arms -How shall I leave thee? ABDULLAH. Leave him, as 'twere but For a brief slumber, to behold his face At morning, with the sun's. ALPHONSO. Thou hast no look For me, my mother! ELMINA. Oh! that I should live To say, I dare not look on thee !-Farewell, My first born, fare thee well! ALPHONSO. Yet, yet beware! It were a grief more heavy on thy soul, That I should blush for thee, than o'er my grave ABDULLAH. Away! we trifle here. The night wanes fast. Come forth! ELMINA. One more embrace! My sons, farewell! ALPHONSO. Hear me yet once, my mother! Art thou gone? But one word more! [He rushes out, followed by CARLOS. Scene-The Garden of a Palace in Valencia. XIMENA, THERESA. THERESA. Stay yet awhile. A purer air doth rove Here through the myrtles whispering, and the limes, XIMENA. There are those In their last need, and on their bed of death, THERESA. You have been wont to love the music made By founts, and rustling foliage, and soft winds, XIMENA. To me the voice Of summer, whispering through young flowers and leaves, Now speaks too deep a language! and of all The breathing soul is sadness!I have felt THERESA. Sweet lady, talk not thus! Your eye this morn doth wear a calmer light, Their glossy leaves. A fresher gale doth spring THERESA sings. Why is the Spanish maiden's grave 'Tis not the orange-bough that sends 'Tis not the myrtle-stem that bends But the Rose of Sharon's eastern bloom And none but strangers pass the tomb Which the Palm of Judah shades. |