_Ordonio (to himself as he enters)._ If I distinguish'd right her gait and stature, 50 It was the Moorish woman, Isidore's wife, That passed me as I entered. A lit taper, In the night air, doth not more naturally Attract the night-flies round it, than a conjuror Draws round him the whole female neighbourhood. 55 [_Addressing ALVAR._ You know my name, I guess, if not my person. I am Ordonio, son of the Lord Valdez. _Alvar._ The Son of Valdez! [_ORDONIO walks leisurely round the room, and looks attentively at the plants._ _Zulimez (to Alvar)._ Why, what ails you now? How your hand trembles! Alvar, speak! what wish you? _Alvar._ To fall upon his neck and weep forgiveness! 60 _Ordonio (returning, and aloud)._ Plucked in the moonlight from a ruined abbey-- Those only, which the pale rays visited! O the unintelligible power of weeds, When a few odd prayers have been muttered o'er them: Then they work miracles! I warrant you, 65 There's not a leaf, but underneath it lurks Some serviceable imp. There's one of you Hath sent me a strange message. _Alvar._ I am he. _Ordonio._ With you, then, I am to speak: [_Haughtily waving his hand to ZULIMEZ._ And mark you, alone. [_Exit ZULIMEZ._ 70 'He that can bring the dead to life again!'-- Such was your message, Sir! You are no dullard, But one that strips the outward rind of things! _Alvar._ 'Tis fabled there are fruits with tempting rinds, That are all dust and rottenness within. 75 Would'st thou I should strip such? _Ordonio._ Thou quibbling fool, What dost thou mean? Think'st thou I journeyed hither To sport with thee? _Alvar._ O no, my lord! to sport Best suits the gaiety of innocence. _Ordonio (aside)._ O what a thing is man! the wisest heart 80 A fool! a fool that laughs at its own folly, Yet still a fool! [_Looks round the cottage._ You are poor! _Alvar._ What follows thence? _Ordonio._ That you would fain be richer. The inquisition, too--You comprehend me? You are poor, in peril. I have wealth and power, 85 Can quench the flames, and cure your poverty: And for the boon I ask of you but this, That you should serve me--once--for a few hours. _Alvar._ Thou art the son of Valdez! would to Heaven That I could truly and for ever serve thee. 90