Part 34 (2/2)

But let that pa.s.s; there is another pain Which hurts me sorely, Rachel, and in vain I seek a remedy; it is that thou Hast now new lines of sorrow on thy brow.

'Tis true, thou art a Jewess, and must know The shame which const.i.tutes thy people's woe; But I detect the signs of some new grief For which the lapse of time brings no relief; Thy cheek hath paled since our arrival here, And often on its pallor gleams a tear.”

At first she spoke not; but at length her lips Moved, quivering as in pain, while o'er her face An ashen paleness came, which whiter seemed From startling contrast with her ebon hair; ”Father”, she murmured, ”speak of that no more!

I shared thy coming to this Syrian sh.o.r.e, And here shall die, for nothing more I crave Than on these lonely hills to find a grave.

My life, though like a flower deprived of light, Hath yet known moments so divinely bright, So full of rapture, that I then forgave The insults we endured, and still could brave Existence in Seville, if thou wouldst stay; But in thy absence how could I betray My dying mother's trust and farewell prayer That I henceforth thy lonely life should share?”

She paused, and from her lips a stifled moan Revealed the torture that her soul had known.

Her father noted it, and with a sigh Of self-reproach attempted a reply;-- ”Dear child, thy love for me hath cost thee much; For young Emanuel,--shrink not from my touch!-- Was dear to thee; I knew it, and confess That I, to consummate thy happiness, Had given thee to him with full consent, (Who with Emanuel would not be content?) Had not my vow and purpose of long years Compelled me to depart despite thy tears.

I knew the struggle, Rachel, in thy heart, I felt the anguish of thy soul to part From one for whom thy love was so intense; In truth, for weeks I suffered in suspense, Lest thy impetuous temperament might lead Even thee to leave me, in my hour of need, Infirm with years, to sail alone from Spain, Go unattended on the stormy main, And lay my poor, worn body in a grave Unknown, uncared for, by a foreign wave.

G.o.d bless thee, Rachel, that thy n.o.ble soul Could make this filial choice, and thus control A love which, though supreme, could not efface Thy duty, as a daughter of thy race; Thy ancestors were princes on this hill!

Within thy veins their blood runs n.o.bly still!”

Rachel sat motionless, with outstretched hands, And fingers interlocked; her steadfast eyes Had hopeless sorrow in their stony gaze, As though they read Fate's sentence of despair.

At length she turned her face; the light had fled From her young features, just as in the west The glow had faded from the sky, and left A wintry coldness in the unlit clouds.

She seemed about to speak, when, sweet and clear, From out the shadow of the ancient wall Soft vocal music stirred the evening air, With plaintive pa.s.sion thrilled,--a proof that love Inspired the words that floated into song,--

Light of the glorious, setting sun, Gilding the Syrian sh.o.r.e, Ere the bright, lingering day be done, Guide me to her whose heart, well won, Holds me forevermore.

Moon, that hath spanned the silvered plain, Olivet's brow to kiss, Lead her by memory's golden chain Back to the olive groves of Spain; Back to our days of bliss!

Star of the evening's darkening sky, Gemming the lonely hill, Whisper to her that I am nigh, Waiting in hope for her reply; Tell her I love her still!

The song had ended; Rachel stood erect, Her pale lips parted breathlessly, her head Bent forward to receive the words, which came Like grateful raindrops to a drooping flower; Her slender form was quivering with delight And sudden rush of feeling; she scarce knew If this were all a dream, or if in truth She heard Emanuel's welcome accents there; Her heart for that brief moment wanted naught To supplement its rapture; 'twas enough To stand thus in expectancy, and know The idol of her soul was drawing near.

At length her father touched her hand, and spoke;--

”'Tis he, my Rachel; thy sweet power hath drawn Thy lover o'er the sea! Again the dawn Of love and hope is kindled in thy face; The concentrated beauty of thy race Illumes thy features; now alas! I know That thy self-sacrifice hath cost thee woe Intenser than I thought; I too rejoice To hear the music of Emanuel's voice, Although I tremble lest his purpose be To lure thee, Rachel, far away from me.”

His daughter, even in the thrill of bliss Which filled her throbbing heart, yet saw the pain That marked his closing words; and, turning, twined Her arms about the old man's drooping neck; ”Dear Father, fear not that,” she gently said; ”Though it be true that ardent love hath led Emanuel to this distant Syrian sh.o.r.e, Thy lot shall still be mine forevermore; Doubt not thy faithful child, for none the less 'Twill be thy Rachel's greatest happiness At thy dear side to minister to thee; For only death can come 'twixt thee and me!”

She paused, and hid her face upon his breast; Her father clasped her fondly in his arms, And bent his cheek to hers, his whitened locks On her dark tresses glistening like the snow.

'Twas thus Emanuel found them; silently He stood before them in a dread suspense; His very soul seemed poised upon the word Which left at last his trembling lips,--”Rachel!”

She raised her head, and their bright, ardent eyes Exchanged the voiceless language of the soul; A joy ineffable diffused its flush O'er both their faces; yet she did not speak, But only clung the closer to her sire, As if in fear to lose her self-control.

At length Emanuel spoke in tones so charged With deep emotion that the very air Seemed tremulous with thoughts transcending speech;--

”Rachel, my more than life! Canst thou forgive The momentary thought that I could live Without thee? See, our separation ends!

Henceforth I know no country, home or friends Save thine, my love! I gladly leave them all, Obedient to a higher, n.o.bler call,-- The cry of my whole being to be near Thee, thee, my Rachel, now so wholly dear, That life without thee is but lingering death!

Already with thee a diviner breath Of inspiration lifts my soul to gain The purest, loftiest heights I can attain!

Not to entice thee from thy father's care, Have I come hither, but to seek a share In that dear filial duty, and to give Love, loyalty and homage, while I live, To him, the honored hero of our race, Beside whom here I also crave a place.

Not only do I plead my love anew, But also thus lay open to thy view The dearest wishes of my soul, and wait To learn thy answer. Do I come too late?”

In doubt, 'twixt hope and fear, she raised her eyes To read her fate in her lov'd father's face; Who, taking her fair hands within his own, Advanced with her to where Emanuel stood, And laid them in her lover's eager grasp.

With softened radiance, from their lonely paths, The far-off stars beheld their kneeling forms, While, with his hands in benediction raised, The old man stood absorbed in silent prayer.

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