University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The Countess Zaterloo's house. Enter Countess and a female attendant.
Att.
Ah! wherefore, madam, are you thus disturb'd
Pacing from room to room with restless change,
And turning still a keen and anxious ear
To every noise? What can I do for you?

Countess.
Cease, cease! thou canst do nothing, my good girl:
I have a cause, but do not seek to know it.

Enter a Servant.
Serv.
There is a stranger—

Countess
(starting with alarm).
Ha! what dost thou say?
A stranger! what appearance does he wear?
Is there but one? Looks he suspiciously?

Serv.
Be not alarmed, madam; 'tis a woman.

Countess
(feigning composure).
Thou art a fool to think I am alarm'd:
Or man or woman, whosoe'er it be,
I am unwell, and must not be disturb'd.

Serv.
It is a lady of distinguish'd mien,
Though much in grief, and she so earnestly
Pleads for admittance that I am compell'd—
Pardon me, madam; but to look upon her
Would move your heart to pity.

Countess.
Let her enter.
[Exit servant.
Who may this be? why do I tremble thus?
In grief!—the wretched surely will not come
In guileful seeming to betray the wretched.
(To attendant.)
Knowst thou who this may be?

Att.
Indeed I do not.

Countess.
Retire then to a distance: here she comes:
But do not leave the chamber.

[Attendant retires to the bottom of the stage, and enter Elizabeth with her hair and dress disordered, like one distracted with grief.
Eliz.
Madam, I come a stranger to your presence,
By misery embolden'd, and urged on
By desperation. In your pity only
Lives all the hope of my most wretched state:
O kill it not! push me not to the brink
Of misery so deep and terrible!
Have pity! O have pity on my woe!
Thou art a woman, and a woman's heart
Will not be shut against a wretched woman.

Countess.
What wouldst thou ask? thou dost with too much grief
Conceal the point and object of thy suit.

Eliz.
There is in prison bound, condemn'd to die,
And for a crime by other hands committed,
A noble youth, and my betrothed love:
Your son—O shrink not back, nor look so sternly!
Your son, as secret rumour hath inform'd me,
Mortally wounded and with little hope
Of life, can ample testimony give,
Being himself of those who did the deed,
That Rayner did it not:—O let him then,
In whate'er secret place he lies conceal'd,
In pity let him true confession make;
And we will bless him—Heav'n will pardon him!

Countess.
Despair hath made thee mad! art thou aware
What thou dost ask of me? Go to our governors;
They may have pity on thee; but from me
It were an act against the sense of nature.

Eliz.
Nay, say not so! I have for mercy sued
At the proud feet of power, and been rejected:
What injury can reach a dying man?
Can his few hours of breathing poise the scales
'Gainst the whole term of a man's reckon'd life
In youth's best strength?

Countess.
Go, thou hast been deceived with a false tale:
And, were it true, hope ends not but with life;
Heav'n only knows who is a dying man.

Eliz.
For blessed charity close not your pity
Against all other feelings but your own!
[Clasping the countess's knees and kissing her hand.
Sweet lady! gentle lady! dearest lady!
O be not ruthless to a soul bow'd down
In extreme wretchedness!

Countess.
Cease, cease! unlock thy hold: embrace me not!
Has he for whom thou pleadst from out o' thyself
Received his being? press'd with infant lips
Thy yearning bosom? smiled upon thy knees,
And bless'd thine ear with his first voice of words?
Away, away! despair has made thee mad,
That thus thou hangst upon me.

Eliz.
O he for whom I plead is to my soul
Its soul: is to my fancy its bound world,
In which it lives and moves; all else beyond
Darkness, annihilation. O have pity!
For well thou sayst, despair has made me mad.

Countess.
Let go, let go! thou with a tigress strivest,
Defending her bay'd whelp: I have no pity.
Heav'n will have pity on thee! let me go;
Unlock thy desp'rate hold!

[Breaks from her and runs out, and Elizabeth, quite overcome, sinks upon the ground, the attendant rushing forward from the bottom of the stage to support her.
Enter Father Mardonio.
Mar.
(raising her).
My daughter, heaven will send in its good time
The aid that is appointed for thy state.
Contend no more, but to its righteous will
Submit thyself. Let me conduct thee hence.

[Exeunt, Mardonio and attendant supporting her. Re-enter the countess, looking fearfully round her as she enters.
Countess.
She is gone now: thank God that she is gone!
There is a horrid conflict in my mind.
What shall I do? I strongly am beset.
I will go quickly to some holy man,
And ghostly counsel ask.

[Exit, crossing the stage with a quick, irresolute step, sometimes stopping to consider, and then hurrying on again.