XIII.

“Now hear me,” said Beltrán, while flashed his eye With supernatural light, and instant flushed His pale and haggard cheek. “My destiny “Thou know’st is terrible as e’er hath hushed The heart of man, or youthful spirit crushed. I loved, and in a brother found, oh God! A rival--all unconsciously I rushed And stabbed him--then a cloister’s pavement trod, And sought relief in prayer, in monkish fast, and rod.