--
Have only three nights past? It is an epoch
Distant and dim with passion. There are seasons
Feelings crowd on so, time not flies but staggers;
And memory poises on her burthened plumes
To gloat upon her prey. Spoke he of coming?

V:1:6 ORAN.
His words were scant and wild, and yet he murmured
That I should see him.

V:1:7 COUN.
I've not seen him since
That fatal night, yet even that glance of terror--
I'd hail it now. O, Oran, Oran, think you
He ever more will love me? Can I do
Aught to regain his love? They say your people
Are learned in these questions. Once I thought
There was no spell like duty--that devotion
Would bulwark love for ever. Now, I'd distil
Philtres, converse with moonlit hags, defile
My soul with talismans, bow down to spirits,
And frequent accursed places, all, yea all--
I'd forfeit all--but to regain his love.

V:1:8 ORAN.
There is a cloud now rising in the west,
In shape a hand, and scarcely would its grasp
Exceed mine own, it is so small; a spot,
A speck; see now again its colour flits!
A lurid tint; they call it on our coast
'The hand of God;' I for when its finger rises
From out the horizon, there are storms abroad
And awful judgments.

V:1:9 COUN.
Ah! it beckons me.

V:1:10 ORAN.
Lady!

V:1:11 COUN.
Yes, yes, see now the finger moves
And points to me. I feel it on my spirit.

V:1:12 ORAN.
Methinks it points to me--

V:1:13 COUN.
To both of us.
It may be so. And what would it portend?
My heart's grown strangely calm. If there be chance
Of storms, my children should be safe. Let's home.

SCENE 2

An illuminated Hall in the Royal Palace at Burgos;
in the background Dancers.

Groups of GUESTS passing.

V:2:1 1ST GUEST.