_Maria._ Thou miserable man! I fear thee not, Nor prize a life which soon may weary me. Bear witness, Heav'n! I neither scorn nor hate him-- 320 But O! 'tis wearisome to mourn for evils, Still mourn, and have no power to remedy! [_Exit MARIA._ _Francesco._ My lord! I shall presume to wait on you To-morrow early. _Velez._ Be it so, good father! [_Exit FRANCESCO._ _Velez (alone)._ I do want solace, but not such as thine! 325 The moon is high in heaven, and my eyes ache, But not with sleep. Well--it is ever so. A child, a child is born! and the fond heart Dances! and yet the childless are most happy. [_SCENE changes to the mountains by moonlight. ALHADRA alone in a Moorish dress, her eyes fixed on the earth. Then drop in one after another, from different parts of the stage, a considerable number of_ Morescoes, _all in their Moorish garments. They form a circle at a distance round ALHADRA. After a pause one of the_ Morescoes _to the man who stands next to him._ _First Moresco._ The law which forced these Christian dresses on us, 330 'Twere pleasant to cleave down the wretch who framed it. _Second._ Yet 'tis not well to trample on it idly. _First._ Our country robes are dear. _Second._ And like dear friends, May chance to prove most perilous informers. [_A third Moresco, NAOMI, advances from out the circle._ _Naomi._ Woman! may Alla and the prophet bless thee! 335 We have obey'd thy call. Where is our chief? And why didst thou enjoin the Moorish garments? _Alhadra (lifting up_ [_raising_ Remorse] _her eyes, and looking round on the circle)._ Warriors of Mahomet, faithful in the battle, My countrymen! Come ye prepared to work An honourable deed? And would ye work it 340 In the slave's garb? Curse on those Christian robes! They are _spell_-blasted; and whoever wears them, His arm shrinks wither'd, his heart melts away, And his bones soften! _Naomi._ Where is Ferdinand? _Alhadra (in a deep low voice)._ This night I went from forth my house, and left 345 His children all asleep; and he was living! And I return'd, and found them still asleep-- But he had perish'd. _All._ Perished? _Alhadra._ He had perish'd! Sleep on, poor babes! not one of you doth know That he is fatherless, a desolate orphan! 350 Why should we wake them? Can an infant's arm Revenge his murder? _One to Another._ Did she say his murder? _Naomi._ Murder'd? Not murder'd? _Alhadra._ Murder'd by a Christian! [_They all, at once, draw their sabres._