University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

A Room.
Isabel, Gelon.
Isa.
This is the very height of wild caprice;
Come tell me where thou wert last night, my Gelon,
And tell me truly?

Gel.
Never while I live!
So ask me not again—it is a secret
That ne'er must slake the ear of enquiry.

Isa.
Well, I shall find it out, and you had best
Entrust it here, where it shall rest for ever.

Gel.
I earnestly entreat thee, ask no more.

Isa.
Saw'st thou Lord Hindlee?

Gel.
Ask him if I did.

Isa.
In all that thou and he have said of it,
There is a mystery inscrutable,
Which does astonish me—He joys that you
Are safe, and comes this day to take his leave;
For he has, in a dream or vision, had
Some strange unearthly message, that there is
A dark fatality awaiting him,
With which you are connected; and he goes
For ever from your presence, to avoid
The possibility of such event.

Gel.
He may avoid the sun, the light of heaven,
The walks of nature, and the human face,
But never that which is predestined.
Yes, he may mine the solid earth, or fly
Beyond the polar seas—but that ordain'd
Must come to pass—I yield me to my fate,
And so must he—trust me, he cannot fly.
O you shall see what power he hath to fly!

Enter Hindlee.
Isa.
Welcome, my noble lord—all yet is well;
Pray use your power to make this wayward elf
Expose the doings of the bygone night.

Hind.
O beauteous Gelon, if thou knowest aught
Of what befel, in pity of this heart,
Of this bewilder'd mind and memory,
Relate it all.

Gel.
When next you chuse, my lord,
To assay your midnight rambles, be your mind
Collected to the proof, for you may need
To give account of it.—Sooth, is it well
That you should stray forth at the midnight hour,
And then accost a maid in open day,
And, with unblushing front, require of her
To give account of you?—For shame, my lord!
It is not well!

Hind.
Perverse, like all thy sex!
Resolve me this—Did we two meet last night?

Gel.
How think'st thou of it?

Hind.
I think we did.

Gel.
In what place then?

Hind.
'Tis that which puzzles me.
No images but those of horror now
Are shadow'd on my mind—If it was not
In hell we met, I wot not where it was.

Gel.
Dost thou say so?—Thou makest my heart to ache!
Oh, would to heaven that all we did last night
Were now to do!—We'll talk of it no more.

Hind.
This is most strange!—And must my mind still hang
In burning anxiousness stretch'd on the rack?
I loved thee, Gelon—Heaven only knows
How much I loved, but I have master'd it.
I've had a message from the dead of thee;
To prove it is a false one—From this hour
Far from this peaceful valley will I fly,
And never see thee more.—I will not yield
To fate without a struggle.

Gel.
Thy resolve
Is a weak effort—far thou wilt not fly:
What must be, will be—Can'st thou countermand
The whirlwind of the desart, or turn back
The torrent when the storms of winter break?
Then may'st thou fly from fate and me, my lord.
Farewell—essay it—far thou wilt not fly.
Trust me, I know it.

Hind.
Dost thou brave me, Gelon?
Nor you, nor fate shall do it—Fare thee well—
Be happy as I wish thee, and thou shalt
Be happiest of thy race!
(Exit Hindlee.)

Isa.
Can'st thou, my child,
Give up nobility and worth, and thus
Fling fortune to the wind?—Go call him back:
Entreat him stay—say some kind thing to him.

Gel.
Think'st thou I would?—He'll come uncall'd for back;
And that too ere expected.

Isa.
It is as thou hast said! hush! here he comes.

Re-enter Hindlee.
Gel.
This time I'll prove my power over his heart,
And let him see what strength he hath to fly.

(She flings on the charmed Scarf—Hindlee seeing her, starts in amazement.)
Isa.
How now? Why this amazement?

Hind.
O, I have seen that garb, that very look!
Where I know not; but so combined and blent
With circumstance of horror, that my blood
Freezes at the remembrance!—I came back
To say one single word which I forgot,
But now I cannot go—My heart and soul
Are chain'd to thee by bond invisible.
Alas! I feel, that or in earth or heaven
Life without thee is misery!—O, my Gelon,
Have pity on my heart—I give me up
Unto thy guidance—take me to thyself
For good or ill, for sorrow or for joy,
And be my guide and ruling star through life.

Gel.
I know my fate, and, knowing it, I yield.
My early stamp'd attachments I give up,
And bow to that which is ordain'd to be:
To wage a war with settled destiny
Is impious and profane—I bow to it.

Hind.
Dost thou then say thou wilt be mine, my Gelon?

Gel.
If thou so urgest—Now, or some time hence,
I know it must be.

Hind.
At thy word I take thee;
And this same hour shall make us one for life;
And we'll be happy in despite of fate,
Of visions, or of dreams—O who with thee
Could be unhappy!—Hie we to old Lawrence,
That primitive and heavenly-minded man,
He shall unite us.

Isa.
O blissful day!—O fair and happy day!

(Exeunt.)