Thou kind and merciful!-My soul is faint- XIMENA. How shall I comfort thee? -Oh! hark! what sounds come deepening on the wind, So full of solemn hope! (A procession of Nuns passes across the Scene, bearing relics, and chanting.) CHANT. A sword is on the land! He that bears down young tree and glorious flower, -Where is the warrior's hand? Our steps are in the shadows of the grave, Hear us, we perish! Father, hear, and save! If, in the days of song, The days of gladness, we have call'd on thee, Now, that alike the feeble and the brave Must cry, "We perish!"-Father! hear, and save! The days of song are fled! The winds come loaded, wafting dirge-notes by, -Wilt thou forsake us 'midst the stormy wave? Helmet and lance are dust! Is not the strong man wither'd from our eye? Look through the gathering shadows of the grave! HERNANDEZ enters. ELMINA. Why comest thou, man of vengeance?-What have I To do with thee?—Am I not bow'd enough? Thou art no mourner's comforter! HERNANDEZ. Thy lord Hath sent me unto thee. Till this day's task Make thy soul's peace with God. ELMINA. Till this day's task Be closed-there is strange triumph in thine eyes Is it that I have fallen from that high place A wild and bitter pride in thus being past The power of thy dark glance !-My spirit now Thy scorn hath lost its sting.-Thou mayst reproach HERNANDEZ. I come not to reproach thee. Heaven doth work By many agencies; and in its hour There is no insect which the summer breeze From the green leaf shakes trembling, but may serve Its deep unsearchable purposes, as well As the great ocean, or th' eternal fires, Pent in earth's caves!-Thou hast but speeded that, Which, in th' infatuate blindness of thy heart, ELMINA. My senses fail Thou saidst-speak yet again !—I could not catch The meaning of thy words. HERNANDEZ. E'en now thy lord Hath sent our foes defiance. On the walls He stands in conference with the boastful Moor, And awful strength is with him. Through the blood And round its blaze, at midnight, keep the sense E'en with thy children's tale! XIMENA. Peace, father! peace! Behold she sinks !-the storm hath done its work Upon the broken reed. Oh! lend thine aid To bear her hence. [They lead her away. Scene-A street in Valencia. Several Groups of Citizens and Soldiers, many of them lying on the Steps of Arms scattered on the Ground around a Church. them. AN OLD CITIZEN. The air is sultry, as with thunder-clouds. I left my desolate home, that I might breathe SECOND CITIZEN. [A citizen goes out. This wasting siege, Good Father Lopez, hath gone hard with you! "Tis sad to hear no voices through the house, Once peopled with fair sons! THIRD CITIZEN. Why, better thus, Than to be haunted with their famish'd cries, E'en in your very dreams! OLD CITIZEN. Heaven's will be done! |