lace of_ Nina. _Enter_ Adrian
_disguised_.]

Adrian. Here last I saw her one long year ago. How the wild, sweet voice
still rings in my ear imploring me to stay. I can find no rest save
here; and thus do I seek my home, worn out by my long wandering, and
trusting to learn tidings of poor Nina. If she be true and love me still
I will cast away my pride, my coldness, and all vain hopes of wealth,
and let the sunlight of that pure, young life brighten my life
henceforth. I hear a step, and will hide here, perchance I may thus see
her [_hides behind curtain_].

[_Enter_ Nina.

Nina. No rest for thee poor heart, ever whispering that dear name, ever
sorrowing for those hard words that gave so deep a wound. All is dark
and lonely, for he is gone. Only these withered flowers, dearer by far
than my most costly gems, for his hand hath touched them, and he smiled
on me when they were given. Oh, Adrian, wilt thou never give one tender
thought to her who still loves and prays for thee? Death will soon free
thee from thy hated wife.

[_Exit_ Nina.

Adrian [_stealing forth_]. And this is she, whose pure young love I have
cast away, the fond, trusting bride I left alone and friendless. She
still loves on, and offers up her prayers for one who sought to break
that tender heart so cruelly. I will watch well and guard thee, Nina;
and if thou art truly mine thou shalt find a happy home with him thy
patient love hath won.

[_Exit_ Adrian _and re-enter_ Nina.

Nina [_with_ Adrian's _picture_]. Ah, these cold eyes smile kindly on me
here, and the lips seem speaking tender words. Other faces are
perchance more fair, but none so dear to me. Oh, husband, thou hast cast
me off; and yet, though lonely and forsaken, I still can cherish loving
thoughts of thee, and round thy image gather all the tender feelings
that a woman's heart can know. Thy cruel words I can forgive, and the
trusting love I gave thee glows as warmly now as when thou didst cast it
by and left me broken-hearted [_weeps_; _enter_ Don Felix]. My lord,
what seekest thou with me? Thou dost smile. Ah, hast thou tidings of my
husband? Tell me quickly, I beseech thee.

Don Felix. Nay, dear lady--But sit thee down and let me tell thee why I
came. [_He leads her to a sofa._] Thou knowest I have been w