Part 9 (1/2)

_Isid._ Oh Heavens!

_Inez._ They would not listen to my frantic words!

They would not credit our a.s.serted union!

They dragg'd me to a convent in their wrath, And left me to my widowhood and tears, Tore my sweet infant from my longing arms, And while I madly scream'd, and begg'd for pity, The abbess spoke of penitence and prayer.

Reason, for weeks, forsook me: when again I was awaken'd to a cruel world, They would have forced me to a.s.sume the veil.

_Isid._ To me, that force had been most needlessly Exerted. What haven could the world offer So meet for such a wreck of happiness?

What could induce you to repel that force?

_Inez._ The hope, that one day I might find my boy-- A hope which still I cherish. Years have fled; My brothers fell by those who sought revenge, And I remain'd, sole scion of our n.o.ble house, In line direct. Then did I seek my child.

Those who attended at the birth inform'd me It had a sanguine bracelet on the wrist.

By threats and bribes at last I ascertained My child had been removed unto the hospital Built in this city for receiving foundlings.

Full of a mother's joy, a mother's fear, I hasten'd there, alas! to disappointment!

All clue of him was lost, and should my boy survive, The heir of Guzman's n.o.ble house may be Some poor mechanic's slave!

(_In anguish throws herself into a chair._)

_Isidora_ (_kneels beside Inez_).

Indeed 'tis dreadful. I marvel not you grieve To think that he survives in hapless penury, Unconscious of his right, perchance unfitted, And if recover'd, prove no source of joy, But one of deep regret, that a young stock Which culture and the graft of education Would now have loaded on each bough with fruit, Neglect hath left degenerate and worthless.

How should I joy, yet dread to meet my cousin, Should your maternal hopes be realised!

_Inez._ He is my child. You cannot feel the pangs Which rack a mother sever'd from her own.

_Isid._ I've often thought how sweet that love must be Where all is sanction'd, nought is to conceal-- When hand may lock in hand, heart beat with heart, And the whole world may smile but not upbraid.

Such love a sister towards a brother bears, And such a mother feels towards her son.

I have no brother--none of kin but you.

Now, dearest mother, for mother you have been Unto my childhood and now budding youth, Would that my feebleness could e'er repay Your years of love. O that I could console you, And prove me grateful! Heaven ne'er be mine If these, my sobbing words, be not sincere.

_Inez._ 'Tis well, my child, thou canst console me much: Let my sad tale but prove to thee a beacon And I am satisfied. Tell me, my love, Hast thou no secrets hidden in thy breast?

[_Isidora, still kneeling, covers her face with her hands._]

Hast thou fulfill'd thy oft-repeated promise?

_Isid._ Forgive me, dearest aunt; forgive and pity me!

_Inez._ Last night, my child, I heard the sound of music: Methought thy name was wafted by the air With most harmonious utterance.

_Isid._ Forgive me, aunt, but say that you forgive me!

You shall know all.

_Inez._ I do, my Isidora, I forgive thee (_raises her_).

But I must have thy confidence, my child.

Who is this cavalier?

_Isid._ Alas! I know not.