University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A room in Arden's house. Alicia alone.
Alic.
When vice has spread her poison thro' the soul,
How lifeless, slow, confus'd, and insincere
Are our resolves in the pursuits of virtue!
What wonder then heaven shou'd refuse its aid
To thoughts, that only blossom for a time;
Look blooming to the eye, but yield no fruit.

Enter Mosby.
Mos.
I come, Alicia, to partake thy griefs;
For fire divided burns with lesser force.

Alic.
I know thee: thou art come to fan the flame,
Thy breath hath kindled here, till it consume us.
But tears and sighs shall stifle in my heart
The guilty passion—

Mos.
Is heroic love,
That form'd the bright examples of thy sex,
Made their lives glorious, and their fame immortal,
A crime in thee? Art thou not mine by oaths,
By mutual sufferings, by contract mine?

Alic.
Why do you urge a rash, a fatal promise,
I had no right to make, or you to ask?
Why did you practise on my easy heart?
Why did I ever listen to your vows?
In me 'twas foolish guilt and disobedience;
In you 'twas avarice, insolence, and pride.

Mos.
'Twas love in me, and gratitude in you.

Alic.
'Twas insolence in you, meanness in me,
And madness in us both. My careful parents,
In scorn of your presumption and my weakness,
Gave me in marriage to a worthy gentleman,
Of birth and fortune, equal to my own.
Three years I liv'd with him without reproach,
And made him in that time the happy father
Of two most lovely children. I too was happy;
At least I liv'd in hopes I might be so:
For time, and gratitude, and Arden's love,
I hop'd might quench my guilty flame for you,
And make my heart a present worthy him.

Mos.
And dost thou glory in thy perjuries?
In love, inconstancy alone's a crime.
Think on the ardor of our youthful passion,
Think how we play'd with love; nor thought it guilt,
Till thy first falshood (call it not obedience)
Thy marriage with this Arden made me desperate;
Think on the transports of our love renew'd,
And—

Alic.
Hide the rest, lest list'ning winds shou'd hear,
And publish to the world our shameful tale.
Here let remembrance of our follies die.

Mos.
Shall our loves wither in their early bloom?

Alic.
Their harvest else will be to both our shames.
Hast thou not made a monster of me, Mosby?
You shou'd abhor me, I abhor myself.
When unperceiv'd I stole on Arden's sleep,
(Hell steel'd my heart, and death was in my hand)
Pale anguish brooded on his ashy cheek,
And chilly sweats stood shivering on his brow.
Relentless murder, at a sight so sad,
Gave place to pity; and as he wak'd, I stood
Irresolute, and drown'd in tears.

Mos.
She's lost,
And I in vain have stain'd my soul with blood.

[Aside.
Alic.
Give o'er in time: in vain are your attempts
Upon my Arden's life; for heaven, that wrested
The fatal weapon from my trembling hand,
Still has him in its charge.

Mos.
Little she thinks,
[Aside.
That Arden's dead ere now.—It must be so;
I've but that game to play, ere it be known.

Alic.
I know our dang'rous state; I hesitate;
I tremble for your life; I dread reproach.
But we've offended, and must learn to suffer.

Mos.
Then Arden live in his Alicia blest,
And Mosby wretched. Yet shou'd chance or nature
Lay Arden gently in a peaceful grave,
Might I presume to hope? Alicia, speak.

Alic.
How shall I look into my secret thoughts,
And answer what I fear to ask myself?

[A long pause.
Mos.
Silence speaks best for me. His death once known,
I must forswear the fact, and give these tools
To public justice—and not live in fear.
[Aside.
Thy heart is mine. I ask but for my own.
[To her.
Truth, gratitude, and honour bind you to me,
Or else you never lov'd.

Alic.
—Then why this struggle?
Not lov'd! O had my love been justly plac'd,
As sure it was exalted and sincere,
I should have gloried in it, and been happy.
But I'll no longer live the abject slave
Of loose desire—I disclaim the thought.

Mos.
I'll ask no more what honour should deny;
By heaven, I never will.

Alic.
Well then remember,
On that condition only, I renew
My vows. If time and the event of things
[Giving her hand.
Should ever make it lawful, I'll be yours.

Mos.
O my full joys!—

Alic.
Suppress thy frantic transports,
My heart recoils, I am betray'd, O give me back
My promised faith.

Mos.
First, let the world dissolve.

Alic.
There is no joy, nor peace for you, or me:
All our engagements cannot but be fatal.

Mos.
The time may come when you'll have other thoughts
'Till then, farewel.— [Aside.]
Now, Fortune, do thy worst.

[Exit.
Alic.
Mosby, return—He's gone, and I am wretched.
I shou'd have banish'd him my sight for ever.
You happy fair ones, whose untainted fame
Has never yet been blasted with reproach,
Fly from th'appearance of dishonour far.
Virtue is arbitrary, nor admits debate:
To doubt is treason in her rigid court;
But if ye parley with the foe, you're lost.

[Exit.