University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Valeria 's apartment.
Enter Constantine, followed by Valeria, who both remain silent for some time, she looking anxiously with wistful expectation.
Val.
Now we are here, my lord, in the still privacy
Of this my inmost bower, but thou art silent.
[Pauses, and he is still silent.
There is a look of sadness on thy face
Of disturb'd wretchedness, that never yet,
E'en in thy darkest hours, I've seen thee wear.
Why art thou thus?

Con.
And dost thou ask? I've been, in deep humility,
Making a sinner's peace with God and man,
And now—and now—

[His voice faltering.
Val.
What would you say, my lord?

Con.
And now I am with thee.

Val.
And art thou sad for this? hast thou not still,
Loose from all shackles of imposed state,
Been with me in thine hours of joy or grief,
Like a way-faring man, who sitting down
On the green bank, his cumbrous vestment opens
To the soft breeze?

Con.
Yes, my Valeria; I have been with thee
As with a true yoked heart, so strong in love,
That e'en the thought, which scudded o'er my mind
With culprit's speed from shameful consciousness,
Was not from thee conceal'd.
But now the hour is come, when e'en with thee
I must perform a task—a task of pain.

Val.
Speak; what meanst thou?

Con.
All have, e'en in the dearest intercourse
Of heart with heart, in some untoward moment
Transgressors been, and proved the cause of pain
Where most they should have banish'd it: and all,
In quitting earthly ties, do anxiously
Desire, in the true blessing of forgiveness,
To part with those whom they have held most dear.
Now dost thou understand me?

[Holding out both his hands to her.
Val.
I do! I do! thou hast my dearest blessing;
The dearest thoughts and worship of my heart.
But oh! what dost thou say?—part!—how, my Constantine!
Where dost thou go? thou dost not leave the city?

Con.
No, love, but on its wall I go ere long,—
For in a little hour the day will break
Which must its fate decide,—that part to act,
Which, before God and man, in honest pride,
I'm call'd on to perform.

Val.
But from those walls victorious thou'lt return.
[Constantine smiles sorrowfully.
Nay, but thou shalt return: high heav'n decrees it;
Virtue, and every good and blessed thing
Have made it sure. E'en in a faith as strong
As at this moment I do hold to this,
Methinks, upon the chafed and tossing waves
Of the wild deep I could thus firmly tread,
Nor wet my sandal's thong.
[Walking across the stage with firm steps of stately confidence, and then going up to him with an encouraging smile.
Be thou assured!
I know it shall be so. A mystic sage,
Whom I, unknown to thee, have visited—
Pardon this weakness of thine anxious wife—
Darting his eye on forms of woven air,
Saw thee in combat with a Turkish champion,
And saw the crescent fall.

Con.
And mayst thou not believe, that ere they close
Their mortal warfare, many a boastful Turk
Beneath these arms shall fall?

Val.
Ay, but on surer words I rest my faith!
For I did bid him onward cast his eye
Into time's reach, and say, who of this city,
After the course of twelve revolving moons,
Should be the sov'reign lord; and he replied,
In plain and simple words, thy lord and husband.

Con.
And named he Constantine?

Val.
What other name but that of Constantine
Could to these appellations be conjoin'd?
Thou turnest from me with perturbed looks:
Thou shalt not turn away: tell me! O, tell me!
What sudden thought is this that troubles thee?

[Catching hold of him eagerly as he turns from her.
Con.
Ask not; Oh, do not ask! 'tis pass'd already
As shoots a glaring meteor 'thwart the night,
Frightful but hasty.

Val.
Thou must tell it me.

Con.
Distract me not.

Val.
Nay, nay, but thou must tell me.
What other name but that of Constantine
Could to my lord and husband joined be?

Con.
(sinking down upon a chair quite overcome, and covering his face with his hands, as he speaks with a quick perturbed voice).
Mahomet! Mahomet!
[Valeria steps back from him, holding up her hands in amazement; then he, after a pause, looking up to her with a self-upbraiding eye.
I have offended in this very hour
When my press'd soul sigh'd for that loving peace
Which in its earthly close the soul desires.
I have offended.

Val.
Yes, thou hast offended.
All the offences thou hast ever done me
Are in this fell and cruel stroke comprised;
And any other stroke, compared to this.
Had fall'n upon me lightly.

Con.
It was a thought that hasted fast away,
And came unbidden.

[Going up to her penitently.
Val.
(turning away in anger).
There is no thought doth ever cross the mind,
Till some preceding kindred sentiment
Hath made a pathway for it.

Con.
Yes, my Valeria, thou indeed sayst true;
But turn not from me angrily. My mind,
Ere now, consider'd has the character,
The faith, the power of Mahomet.—Frown not.—
Valeria, thou art fair.—Nay, do not frown!

Val.
What dost thou say? hast thou until this moment
Reserved for me this base degrading—No:
Torn and defaced be every hated form
Of outward grace! it is our curse, our shame!

[Tearing her hair violently.
Con.
O be not thus!—forgive a hasty thought!
Think how a doating husband is distracted,
Who knows too well a lawless victor's power.

Val.
What is his power? it nought regardeth me.

Con.
Alas! the frowns of a detesting bride
Deter him not!

Val.
(smiling contemptuously).
But will he wed the dead?

Con.
(starting).
What sayst thou? Oh, what meaning is there here!
Yes, yes! I know it all! but it is dreadful:
It makes the cold chill o'er my limbs to creep:
It is not well: it is not holy. No!
O no, my noble love, mine honour'd love!
Give to thy fallen lord all that the soul
To widow'd love may give, but oh, stop there!
Heav'n will protect thee in the hour of need;
And for the rest, erase it from thy thoughts,
Give it no being there.

Val.
It hath no being there. Heav'n will protect me:
And he who thinks me helpless thinks me mean.

Con.
I think thee all that e'er was tenanted
Of noblest worth in loveliest female form:
By nature excellent, defective only
In this, that fortune has thy virtues link'd
To the vex'd spirit of a ruin'd man,
Who in his hours of anguish has not prized them
As did become their worth.

Val.
(rushing into his arms).
No, thou hast prized them,
In thy blind love, far, far beyond their worth.
My uncurb'd passions have alas! too oft
Vexation added to that burden'd heart
I should have cheer'd and lighten'd: on my head
Rests all the blame that e'er between us pass'd,
And I alone have need to be forgiven.

[They weep on one another's necks without speaking, when an alarm bell is heard at a distance, and Constantine breaks suddenly from her.
Con.
It is the 'larum of my farther watch.

Val.
I scarcely heard it: art thou sure of it?

[A second alarm bell heard nearer.
Con.
And hark! a nearer tower repeats the sound.
The enemy's in motion.—I must arm,
And instantly.

Val.
Then let me be with thee till the last moment!
I have a holy relic of great power;
It is, I trust, worth all thine arms beside;
And from this hand of love thou shalt receive it.

Con.
(smiling sorrowfully).
Thanks, sweet Valeria! from thy hand of love
I will with love receive whate'er thou wilt.
[A third alarm bell is heard still louder, and enter attendants in haste.
Yes, yes, I heard it; go, prepare mine arms.

[To attendants, and exeunt.