University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Eleonora, Dunbar.
Eleonora.
I sought thee, Youth.—
Ere yet this dreadful Crisis shall decide
The public Fate, let us to private Woe
Devote one Moment!—Tell me, brave Dunbar,
Wilt thou not, from the Hurry of the Day,
One Moment snatch to hear me, and condole
The Anguish of my Soul?—

Dunbar.
O Eleonora!
Sooner shall the parch'd Traveller refuse
The gelid Fountain, than my raptur'd Soul
The Music of thy Tongue!—What Grief profanes
Thy spotless Bosom?—happy! far above
The Pride of Conquerors, were I to ease
Thy Sorrow's Pangs!—

Eleonora.
Thy gen'rous Heart alone
Can brook the Enterprize—

Dunbar.
O! task my Love;
That I more swift than Gales that sweep the Plain,
May fly to thy Relief!

Eleonora.
Then summon up
Those elevated Thoughts, that lift the Soul
To Virtue's highest Pinnacle; the Boon
My Misery demands, will crave them all!—

Dunbar.
Be it to brave the Menaces of Death
In Shape however horrid, so my Faith
And Love remain inviolate, my Heart
Beats with unusual Ardor; and demands
The Test, impatient!—

Eleonora.
Friendless and forlorn,
In Fetters Stuart lies!—

Dunbar.
Ha!

Eleonora.
From the Snares
Of gloomy Fate release him.—

Dunbar.
Cruel Maid!—
Nay, let me call thee barbarous! in spite
Of Adoration.—Could thy Mind suggest
No forward Slave, to set thy Lover free,
But a despairing Rival?—'Tis not giv'n
Th'impassion'd Soul of Man, to execute
A Deed so fatal to its own Repose!

Eleonora.
I sought not—witness ye celestial Powers!
To aggravate thy Pain—my Mind, perplex'd,
Revolv'd in silent Woe, nor could unload
Her Burden to another.—Thou alone,
Hast won my fair Opinion and my Trust;
And to thy Word indebted, Honour claims
Th'Engagement all her own.—

Dunbar.
Yet, with Reserve
Was that impawn'd: My Loyalty and Love
Were sacred ev'n from that: Nor can I loose
His Chains, without an Injury to Both!—

Eleonora.
Cold—unaspiring is the Love that dwells
With tim'rous Caution; and the Breast untouch'd
By Glory's Godlike Fervour, that retains
The Scruples of Discretion.—Let the Winds
That have dispers'd thy Promise, snatch thy Vows!—

Dunbar.
Shall I, thro' rash Enthusiasm, wed
Eternal Anguish?—Shall I burst asunder
The Bonds of awful Justice, to preserve
The Serpent that has poison'd all my Peace!—
No, Eleonora!—blasted be—

Eleonora.
Take heed!
Nor by an Oath precipitate, involve
Thy Fate beyond Resource: For know, Dunbar,
The Love of Stuart, with his Guilt abjur'd,
This Morn, my solemn Vow to Heav'n appeal'd,
Hath sever'd us for ever.—

Dunbar.
Then, I'm still!—
Still as the gentle Calm, when the hush'd Wave
No longer foams before the rapid Storm!—
Let the young Traitor perish, and his Name
In dark Oblivion rot.—

Eleonora.
Shall I, alas!
Supinely savage, from my Ears exclude
The Cries of youthful Woe?—of Woe intail'd
By me too!—If my Heart denies him Love,
My Pity, sure, may flow!—Has he not Griefs
That wake ev'n thy Compassion?—Say, Dunbar,
Unmov'd could'st thou survey th'unhappy Youth
(Whom but this Morn beheld in Pride of Hope
And Pow'r magnificent!) stretch'd on the Ground
Of a damp Dungeon, groaning with Despair!
With not one Friend his Sorrows to divide,
And chear his lone Distress?—

Dunbar.
Can I resist
So fair a Motive, and so sweet a Tongue!
When thy soft Heart with kind Compassion glows,
Shall I the tender Sentiment repress?—
No!—let me rather hail the social Pang;
And ev'ry selfish Appetite subdu'd,
Indulge a Flame so gen'rous and humane!—
—Away with each Emotion that suggests
A Rival favour'd and a Traitor freed!
My Love unbounded reigns, and scorns to own
Reflection's narrow Limits!—Yes, my Fair,
This Hour he shall be free.—
[Exit Dunbar.