Who has sent this
music to a dungeon? My spirit softens with her melting words. My
eyes are moist. I weep! 'Tis pleasant. Sorrow is joy compared with my
despair. I never thought to shed a tear again. My brain is cooler.'
'Weep, weep, I pray thee weep; but let me kiss away thy tears, my soul!
Didst think thy Schirene had deserted thee? Ah! that was it that made
my bird so sad. It shall be free, and fly in a sweet sky, and feed on
flowers with its faithful mate. Ah me! I am once more happy with my boy.
There was no misery but thy absence, sweet! Methinks this dungeon is our
bright kiosk! Is that the sunbeam, or thy smile, my love, that makes the
walls so joyful?'
'Did I smile? I'll not believe it.'
'Indeed you did. Ah! see he smiles again. Why this is freedom! There is
no such thing as sorrow. Tis a lie to frighten fools!'
'Why, Honain, what's this? 'Twould seem I am really joyful. There's
inspiration in her very breath. I am another being. Nay! waste not
kisses on those ugly fetters.'
'Methinks they are gold.'
They were silent. Schirene drew Alroy to his rough seat, and gently
placing herself on his knees, threw her arms round his neck, and buried
her face in his breast. After a few minutes she raised her head, and
whispered in his ear in irresistible accents of sweet exultation, 'We
shall be free to-morrow!'
'To-morrow! is the trial so near?' exclaimed the captive, with an
agitated voice and changing countenance.
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