_Albert (aside)._ She deems me dead, and yet no mourning garment! Why should my brother's wife wear mourning garments? God of all mercy, make me, make me quiet! [_To MARIA._ Your pardon, gentle maid! that I disturb'd you. I had just started from a frightful dream. 285 _Alhadra._ These renegado Moors--how soon they learn The crimes and follies of their Christian tyrants! _Albert._ I dreamt I had a friend, on whom I lean'd With blindest trust, and a betrothéd maid Whom I was wont to call not mine, but me, 290 For mine own self seem'd nothing, lacking her! This maid so idoliz'd, that trusted friend, Polluted in my absence soul and body! And she with him and he with her conspired To have me murder'd in a wood of the mountains: 295 But by my looks and most impassion'd words I roused the virtues, that are dead in no man, Even in the assassins' hearts. They made their terms, And thank'd me for redeeming them from murder. _Alhadra (to Maria)._ You are lost in thought. Hear him no more, sweet lady! 300 _Maria._ From morn to night I am myself a dreamer, And slight things bring on me the idle mood. Well, sir, what happen'd then? _Albert._ On a rude rock, A rock, methought, fast by a grove of firs Whose threaddy leaves to the low breathing gale 305 Made a soft sound most like the distant ocean, I stay'd as tho' the hour of death were past, And I were sitting in the world of spirits, For all things seem'd unreal! There I sate. The dews fell clammy, and the night descended, 310 Black, sultry, close! and ere the midnight hour A storm came on, mingling all sounds of fear That woods and sky and mountains seem'd one havock! The second flash of lightning show'd a tree Hard by me, newly-scathed. I rose tumultuous: 315 My soul work'd high: I bared my head to the storm, And with loud voice and clamorous agony Kneeling I pray'd to the great Spirit that made me, Pray'd that Remorse might fasten on their hearts, And cling, with poisonous tooth, inextricable 320 As the gored lion's bite! _Maria._ A fearful curse! _Alhadra._ But dreamt you not that you return'd and kill'd him? Dreamt you of no revenge? _Albert (his voice trembling, and in tones of deep distress)._ She would have died, Died in her sins--perchance, by her own hands! And bending o'er her self-inflicted wounds 325 I might have met the evil glance of frenzy And leapt myself into an unblest grave! I pray'd for the punishment that cleanses hearts, For still I loved her! _Alhadra._ And you dreamt all this? _Maria._ My soul is full of visions, all is wild! 330