University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

—The suburbs of Frankfort.—Darby meets the Doctor.
Darby.
We have but one more evidence on earth;
And, if we fail in this—tis o'er—the thing is done!
And, if I should succeed, my life's at stake!
My fee must be proportioned to my pains?

Doct.
I care not what's the fee—so Conrad dies!

Darby.
I know a man—a poor man—and, a fool!
He'd cut his throat for money—that's the man!
But mark! that man is Conrad's warmest friend!
His name is Arnold—he may take a bribe?—
I'll promise him two hundred pounds—he'll swear!

Doct.
'Tis best do what you can—he killed Alonzo!

[Shakes hands.
Darby.
Now, if he take it, 'twill be well and good,
And if he chance refuse—'tis all the same
I'll tell you what I'll do—I'll make him swear—
'Tis best you be not seen—I'll work it right.

Doct.
A thousand pounds shall be your pay—

Darby.
He hangs.

[Shakes hands. Exeunt Doctor.
Enter Arnold, with a letter in his hand.
Darby.
Good day, to thee, old friend!—what's all the news?
[Shakes hands.
I have not seen you for these many days!
When you and I were boys, we were good friends.
Although, you were not rich—I did not care—
I always like a friend, and ne'er forget him.
I like the poor, much better than the rich—
The rich can get along, you know—the poor,
The best way that they can—what's all the news?

Arnold.
We have no news!
[Looks at the letter.
Poor Conrad's wife is sick!

Darby.
You knew that Conrad was your vilest foe?—

Arn.
No; never, in this world!—that cannot be?
That man has helped me in distress!

Darby.
That may be so;
But not of late?

Arn.
Oh, yes he has, of late—

Darby.
Well, well—that, too, is well enough—he's changed!—
You do not know what use are made of friends;
He feeds you on his money—mind your eye!
He knows what use to put his money to—
He buys his own salvation, at your loss!

Arn.
Why! how's that?

Darby.
He killed Alonzo, did he?

Arn.
I don't believe he did—too good a man!

Darby.
Ah, ha—that proves what I have said—now mark!
He means to prove you killed that man yourself.

Arn.
Why! how?—good heavens! I killed Alonzo?

Darby.
The blame's on you—he'll have you hung stone dead!

Arn.
Good heavens! I never killed the man, on earth!

Darby.
That may be true—but such wont do in court.
You are a poor man—you have no rich friends—
You cannot fee a lawyer—tend your suit—
When dangers come, the poor man's quite forsaken!—
And, without money, man's a scare-crow, here.

Arn.
That is a fact!—what will a poor man do?

Darby.
Well—I can't tell,—do the best he can.

Arn.
Are you concerned that way?

Darby.
Perhaps I may be.
First come, first served—that is the way with me.

Arn.
I have no friends!—thought Conrad was the best—

Darby.
Well; as you seem to be an honest man,
And, I expect, quite innocent of murder,—
I'll undertake your case.

Arn.
Then here's my thanks—
[Bows.
He bade me give this letter to his wife—
How sorry did I feel, to see him weep!
And, when he wrote this letter—see his tears!
[Looks at it.

Darby.
These very tears, my friend, are drops of guilt!
He did not like to die, and leave his wife;
Nor, did he like, though best, to have you hung!
This meeting of two sorrows in his soul,
Broke up his conscience—which, stood forth in tears!

Arn.
Is it possible, so good a man as he—

Darby.
So good!—no odds how good a man may be,
'Tis not his nature not to save his life!—
Perhaps that letter holds some scheme,
Whereby he means to have you hung—let's see—

Arn.
He told me, at the peril of my life,
[Refuses.
To give it to Eudora!—no one else—

Darby.
Are you a fool?—what! die by your hands?
[Takes it and reads.
“Eudora! my dear wife! I would be with thee,
But I am bound in chains!—yes, iron chains!
There is but one resolve can save my life—
Our only hope now rests on Arnold's oath—
If he will swear that Darby kill'd Alonzo!
Then, I am safe—if not, I must be hung!
If you are not too sick, come, stay with me—
Give Darby money, and he'd sell his soul!

Darby.
Give Conrad woman, and he'd sell his life.
There, take it to his wife—come back to court.
Be thou, her friend—in act, but not in need.

[Exeunt Arnold.
Enter Doctor.
Darby.
Well, I've seen our friend—good news—good news—
Without one single cent, he comes to court!—

Doctor.
But, what if he turn traitor—what comes next?

Darby.
By heavens! I made the fool believe he'd hang!
That Conrad had thrown all the guilt on him!
And no alternative was left, but this.
But, mark! he brought a letter—which I read—
Directed to Eudora—'twas a plot—
Now, mind!—if he will swear, 'twill hang them both.

Doct.
Then, all is safe—then, come—go with me home

[Exeunt omnes.