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Poetry Library

— Stephen Crane

I looked here;

I looked there;

Nowhere could I see my love.

And--this time--

…

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adverb

In an accidental manner; by chance, unexpectedly.

“He discovered penicillin largely accidentally.”

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Corr. in MS. III.

107 lines
Samuel Taylor Coleridge·1772–1834
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45] that] this Corr. in MS. III. [Affixed to 57] _Naomi, the second in command to Isidore, enters inhaste._ MS. III erased. [After 61] stage-direction erased MS. III. [62] _Moorish Seaman_] _Naomi_ Corr. in MS. III. [100-106] Erased MS. III. [107 foll.] _vide ante_, 'The Dungeon,' p. 185. [121] steaming] steam and Corr. in MS. III, Remorse. [125] ever more] _evermore_ Remorse. [After 136] I am chill and weary! Yon rude bench of stone,In that dark angle, the sole resting-place!But the self-approving mind is its own light,And Life's best warmth still radiates from the heartWhere love sits brooding, and an honest purpose. _Enter TERESA._ [_Retires out of sight._ Corr. in MS. III, Remorse. Stage-direction affixed to 136 and 136-9 erased in MS. III: om. Remorse. [Between 136 and 137:] I am chill and weary, &c. . . . honest purpose. _Enter TERESA with a taper._ _Teresa._ It has chilled my very life--my own voice scares me;Yet when I hear it not I seem to loseThe substance of my being--my strongest graspSends inwards but weak witness that I am.I seek to cheat the echo.--How the half soundsBlend with this strangled light! Is he not here-- [_Looking round._O for one human face here--but to seeOne human face here to sustain me.--Courage!It is but my own fear! The life within me,It sinks and wavers like this cone of flame,Beyond which I scarce dare look onward! Oh!If I faint? If this inhuman den should beAt once my death-bed and my burial vault? [_Faintly screams as ALVAR emerges from the recess._ _Alvar (rushes towards her, and catches her as she is falling)._ Ogracious heaven! it is, it is Teresa!Shall I reveal myself? The sudden shockOf rapture will blow out this spark of life,And joy complete what terror has begun.O ye impetuous beatings here, be still!Teresa, best beloved! pale, pale, and cold!Her pulse doth flutter! Teresa! my Teresa! _Teresa (recovering)._ I heard a voice; but often in my dreamsI hear that voice! and wake and try--and try--To hear it waking! but I never could--And 'tis so now--even so! Well! he is dead--Murdered perhaps! And I am faint, and feelAs if it were no painful thing to die! _Alvar._ Believe it not, sweet maid! Believe it not,Beloved woman! 'Twas a low impostureFramed by a guilty wretch. _Teresa._ Ha! Who art thou? _Alvar._ Suborned by his brother-- _Teresa._ Didst thou murder him?And dost thou now repent? Poor troubled man,I do forgive thee, and may Heaven forgive thee! _Alvar._ Ordonio--he---- _Teresa._ If thou didst murder him--His spirit ever at the throne of GodAsks mercy for thee: prays for mercy for thee,With tears in Heaven! _Alvar._ Alvar was not murdered.Be calm! be calm, sweet maid! _Teresa._ Nay, nay, but tell me! [_A pause._O 'tis lost again!This dull confused pain-- [_A pause._Mysterious man!Methinks I can not fear thee: for thine eyeDoth swim with love and pity--Well! Ordonio--Oh my foreboding heart! And he suborned thee,And thou didst spare his life? Blessings shower on thee,As many as the drops twice counted o'erIn the fond faithful heart of his Teresa! _Alvar._ I can endure no more. The Moorish sorcererExists but in the stain upon his face.That picture---- _Teresa._ Ha! speak on! _Alvar._ Beloved Teresa!It told but half the truth. O let this portraitTell all--that Alvar lives--that he is here!Thy much deceived but ever faithful Alvar. [_Takes her portrait from his neck, and gives it her._ _Teresa (receiving the portrait)._ The same--it is the same. Ah! Whoart thou?Nay, I will call thee, Alvar! [_She falls on his neck._ _Alvar._ O joy unutterable!But hark! a sound as of removing barsAt the dungeon's outer door. A brief, brief whileConceal thyself, my love! It is Ordonio.For the honour of our race, for our dear father;O for himself too (he is still my brother)Let me recall him to his nobler nature,That he may wake as from a dream of murder!O let me reconcile him to himself,Open the sacred source of penitent tears,And be once more his own beloved Alvar. _Teresa._ O my all virtuous love! I fear to leave theeWith that obdurate man. _Alvar._ Thou dost not leave me!But a brief while retire into the darkness:O that my joy could spread its sunshine round thee! _Teresa._ The sound of thy voice shall be my music!Alvar! my Alvar! am I sure I hold thee?Is it no dream? thee in my arms, my Alvar! [_Exit._ [_A noise at the dungeon door. It opens, and ORDONIO enters,with a goblet in his hand._
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