Page:De Chatillon.pdf/19



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

Her. (coming forward and speaking hurriedly.) Is it done? Have you done it?

Rai. (with disgust.) What! you thirst For blood so deeply?

Her. (indignantly.) Have you struck, and saved The honour of your house?

Rai. (thoughtfully to himself.) The light i' the soul Is such a wavering thing! Have I done well! (To .) Ask me not! Never shall they meet again. Is 't not enough?

Aym. Whose is this dagger?

Rai. (coming forward and taking it.) Mine.

Aym. Yours! yours!—and know you where—

Rai. (about to sheath it, but stopping) Oh! you do well So to remind me! Yes! it must have lain In the Moslem burial-ground—and that vile dust— Hence with it! 'tis defiled. [Throws it from him.

Aym. If such a deed—— Brother! where is she?