Part 2 / Act 3 — Scene II.—A deserted Turkish burying-ground in the city—tombs and stones overthrown—the whole shaded by dark cypress-trees.

Mor. (leaning over a monumental pillar, which has been lately raised.) He is at rest;—and I!—is there no power In grief to win forgiveness from the dead? When shall I rest? Hark! a step—Aymer’s step! The thrilling sound! [She shrinks back as reproaching herself. To feel that joy even here! Brother! oh, pardon me! Rai. (entering, and slowly looking round.) A gloomy scene! A place for——Is she not an infidel? Who shall dare call it murder? [He advances to her slowly, and looks at her. She is fair— The deeper cause! Maid, have you thought of death Midst these old tombs? Mor. (shrinking from him fearfully.) This is my brother’s grave. Rai. Thy brother’s! That a warrior’s grave had closed O’er mine—the free and noble knight he was! Ay, that the desert-sands had shrouded him Before he look’d on thee! Mor. If you are his— If Aymer’s brother—though your brow be dark, I may not fear you! Rai. No? why, thou shouldst fear The very dust o’ the mouldering sepulchre, If it had lived, and borne his name on earth! Hear’st thou?—that dust hath stirr’d, and found a voice, And said that thou must die! Mor. (clinging to the pillar as he approaches.) Be with me, heaven! You will not murder me? Rai. (turning away.) A goodly word To join with a warrior’s name!—a sound to make Men’s flesh creep. What!—for Paynim blood Did he stand faltering thus—my ancestor— In that old tower? [He again approaches her—she falls on her knees. Mor. So young, and thus to die! Mercy—have mercy! In your own far land If there be love that weeps and watches for you, And follows you with prayer—even by that love Spare me—for it is woman’s! If light steps Have bounded there to meet you, clinging arms Hung on your neck, fond tears o’erflow’d your cheek, Think upon those that loved you thus, for thus Doth woman love! and spare me!—think on them; They, too, may yet need mercy! Aymer, Aymer! Wilt thou not hear and aid me? Rai. (starting.) There’s a name To bring back strength! Shall I not strike to save His honour and his life? Were his life all—— Mor. To save his life and honour!—will my death—— [She rises and stands before him, covering her face hurriedly. Do it with one stroke! I may not live for him! Rai. (with surprise.) A woman meet death thus! Mor. (uncovering her eyes.) Yet one thing more— I have sisters and a father. Christian knight! Oh! by your mother’s memory, let them know I died with a name unstain’d. Rai. (softened and surprised.) And such high thoughts from her!—an infidel! And she named my mother!—Once in early youth From the wild waves I snatch’d a woman’s life; My mother bless’d me for it (slowly dropping his dagger)—even with tears She bless’d me. Stay, are there no other means? (Suddenly recollecting himself.) Follow me, maiden! Fear not now. Mor. But he— But Aymer— Rai. (sternly.) Wouldst thou perish? Name him not!— Look not as if thou wouldst! Think’st thou dark thoughts Are blown away like dew-drops? or I, like him, A leaf to shake and turn i’ the changing wind? Follow me, and beware! [She bends over the tomb for a moment, and follows him. Aymer enters, and slowly comes forward from the background. Aym. For the last time—yes! it must be the last! Earth and heaven say—the last! The very dead Rise up to part us! But one look—and then She must go hence for ever! Will she weep? It had been little to have died for her— I have borne shame. She shall know all! Moraima! Said they not She would be found here at her brother’s grave? Where should she go? Moraima! There’s the print Of her step—what gleams beside it? (Seeing the dagger, he takes it up.) Ha! men work Dark deeds with things like this! [Looking wildly and anxiously around. I see no——blood! [Looking at the dagger. Stain’d!—it may be from battle; ’tis not—wet. [Looks round, intently listening; then again examines the spot. Ha!—what is this? another step in the grass!— Hers and another’s step! [He rushes into the cypress-grove.