 | The Siege of Marseilles |  |
SCENE—An Aparment in the Castle.
Erminia reclined on a Sopha, Eemoine.
ERMINIA.
The gentle ministers of Heaven's blest care
Have left me; and an unform'd load of horror
Spreads an inactive darkness o'er my soul.
What dreadful madness fires thee, O my Raymond?
EEMOINE.
Unseen, just now I mark'd his fierce demeanour;
'Tis madness tears him: A wild mutiny
Tempests his bosom; now in dreadful pause
His thoughts seem lost; then springing suddenly
He stamps the ground; then jealously casts round
His burning eyes, as if he fear'd his thoughts
Were listen'd to; then snatches at his sword,
And mutters vengeance for his wounded honour.
ERMINIA.
I am the victim, and will meet his rage—
My evil dæmon sent him in the moment,
The only hapless moment of my life
That ever wish'd, or could have thank'd the care
Of explication—Oh just Heav'n, fulfil
The last poor hope that to my heart remains!
Give me some moments speech, while cold death trembles
On my pale lips.
Enter the King.
KING.
Why thus, oh gentlest Lady,
Why thus in love with deepest wretchedness?
Bold is the pride, and lofty the ambition,
Of Raymond's soul: these shall be satisfied;
Let but a few short days restore his reason.
ERMINIA.
Your goodness flies before my boldest wish,
Accept my gratitude; 'tis all—
KING.
How blest were I
Could every wish this bosom heaves for you
Succeed so well, you should be more than happy.
Ah, need I tell—Have not my eyes ere now
Told you I love.
ERMINIA.
Good heaven, what did I hear!
Forbear, repeat it not.
[Erminia retiring.
KING.
Forbear to love you!
Impossible—and have I then—alas!
ERMINIA.
Oh gentle Peace, where shall I fly to find thee!
Yet let me fly from danger; where, Eemoine,
Where hast thou fled?
KING.
Yet hear, my lovely charmer.
Oh heaven restrain my ardour of affection!
Boundless it rises, boundless as the charms
Of its dear goddess—Have you now forgot
You talk'd of gratitude? then view me, Lady,
As your protector. Ah, what transport this!
[Embracing her.
ERMINIA.
Ha, hence, presume not. Anguish so distracts me,
I heard not what you said. Where, are my attendants?
Have I said ought? if ought to give you hope?
Oh Heaven I knew it not.
KING.
Never, O thou fairest,
Did beauty's sweet enchantment thus possess me:
I am all eye to dwell on these thy charms,
All heart to feel their power.
ERMINIA.
Oh Raymond, Raymond!
Ev'n my soul weeps to think how I ungenerous
Have wrong'd thy fond affection's pious care.
Ah now I see, and bitterly I mourn,
The secret cause thy gentle delicacy
Would ne'er reveal, why thou detainest me here
Far from the courtly walks of Fountainbleau,
Too well thou knewest—Oh, whither are ye fled,
Ye pitying Angels!
KING.
Angels of love surround you.
Ah kill me not with these forbidding frowns.
Yes, I'll presume to name a monarch's grandeur,
And offer all my kingdom's lofty pomp.
ERMINIA.
Forbear, nor dare to offer the pollution
Ev'n of your touch again. Unfavouring Heaven,
I deem'd, had given me more than female weakness.
Now I behold what arts are try'd to tear me
From my poor Raymond's dear affection—now,
Now I'm a Roman, and demand you give me
My injur'd husband. O'er his dreadful mien
Soon shall my tale restore the smiles of joy.
KING.
Confusion, ruin to my hopes—Ah, Madam,
For daring actions but some moments old,
To you unknown, the state demands his blood:
And ponder this, I, I alone can save him.
ERMINIA.
Your impious passion asks the blood of Raymond;
But France demands his gallant sword to save her.
Your wish now known, no more I am a supplian
By that which dearer than his life he holds.
My wedded faith, his life shall ne'er be purchas'd.
If stript of these his fair domains, and banish'd
His native land, his virtue still will give him
Sweeter repose than ever tyrant knew;
But if his blood must stain the guilty scaffold,
Eternal infamy shall blot the memory
Of generous Francis, and the latest ages
Shall view the shining virtues which emblaze
His boasted name as but the rays of tinsel.
In generous glow of mind, which cost him nothing,
He was a heroe; but when selfish passion
Whisper'd its tyrant claim, the basest slave
Ne'er sacrificed his neighbour's happiness
With more stone-hearted colder cruelty.
Such will the heart that warms in honour's cause
In latest times pronounce thee.
KING.
Gentle Lady,
Though thus you wound my honour, by my sceptre,
My kingdom's welfare touches not my heart
With such an earnest zealous care as yours.
O give me then the power, and thou and Raymond
Shall yet be happy.
ERMINIA.
Firmly I demand
The duteous justice which the Heaven's dread sovereign
Exacts from proudest kings. Dark fraud, and art
Of soulest stain, alone have fix'd on Raymond,
What lightest colour of offence he bears.
KING.
My Honour to thy arms shall give thy Raymond.
O yet believe thy happiness inspires
My dearest wish—
[Exit.
ERMINIA.
O Raymond, how my heart
Bleeds o'er thy wrongs!—But Heaven now gives me courage,
And I will vindicate thy injur'd honour.
[Exit
Erminia reclined on a Sopha, Eemoine.
ERMINIA.
The gentle ministers of Heaven's blest care
Have left me; and an unform'd load of horror
Spreads an inactive darkness o'er my soul.
What dreadful madness fires thee, O my Raymond?
EEMOINE.
Unseen, just now I mark'd his fierce demeanour;
'Tis madness tears him: A wild mutiny
Tempests his bosom; now in dreadful pause
His thoughts seem lost; then springing suddenly
He stamps the ground; then jealously casts round
His burning eyes, as if he fear'd his thoughts
Were listen'd to; then snatches at his sword,
And mutters vengeance for his wounded honour.
ERMINIA.
I am the victim, and will meet his rage—
My evil dæmon sent him in the moment,
The only hapless moment of my life
285
Of explication—Oh just Heav'n, fulfil
The last poor hope that to my heart remains!
Give me some moments speech, while cold death trembles
On my pale lips.
Enter the King.
KING.
Why thus, oh gentlest Lady,
Why thus in love with deepest wretchedness?
Bold is the pride, and lofty the ambition,
Of Raymond's soul: these shall be satisfied;
Let but a few short days restore his reason.
ERMINIA.
Your goodness flies before my boldest wish,
Accept my gratitude; 'tis all—
KING.
How blest were I
Could every wish this bosom heaves for you
Succeed so well, you should be more than happy.
Ah, need I tell—Have not my eyes ere now
Told you I love.
ERMINIA.
Good heaven, what did I hear!
Forbear, repeat it not.
[Erminia retiring.
KING.
Forbear to love you!
Impossible—and have I then—alas!
286
Oh gentle Peace, where shall I fly to find thee!
Yet let me fly from danger; where, Eemoine,
Where hast thou fled?
KING.
Yet hear, my lovely charmer.
Oh heaven restrain my ardour of affection!
Boundless it rises, boundless as the charms
Of its dear goddess—Have you now forgot
You talk'd of gratitude? then view me, Lady,
As your protector. Ah, what transport this!
[Embracing her.
ERMINIA.
Ha, hence, presume not. Anguish so distracts me,
I heard not what you said. Where, are my attendants?
Have I said ought? if ought to give you hope?
Oh Heaven I knew it not.
KING.
Never, O thou fairest,
Did beauty's sweet enchantment thus possess me:
I am all eye to dwell on these thy charms,
All heart to feel their power.
ERMINIA.
Oh Raymond, Raymond!
Ev'n my soul weeps to think how I ungenerous
Have wrong'd thy fond affection's pious care.
Ah now I see, and bitterly I mourn,
287
Would ne'er reveal, why thou detainest me here
Far from the courtly walks of Fountainbleau,
Too well thou knewest—Oh, whither are ye fled,
Ye pitying Angels!
KING.
Angels of love surround you.
Ah kill me not with these forbidding frowns.
Yes, I'll presume to name a monarch's grandeur,
And offer all my kingdom's lofty pomp.
ERMINIA.
Forbear, nor dare to offer the pollution
Ev'n of your touch again. Unfavouring Heaven,
I deem'd, had given me more than female weakness.
Now I behold what arts are try'd to tear me
From my poor Raymond's dear affection—now,
Now I'm a Roman, and demand you give me
My injur'd husband. O'er his dreadful mien
Soon shall my tale restore the smiles of joy.
KING.
Confusion, ruin to my hopes—Ah, Madam,
For daring actions but some moments old,
To you unknown, the state demands his blood:
And ponder this, I, I alone can save him.
ERMINIA.
Your impious passion asks the blood of Raymond;
But France demands his gallant sword to save her.
Your wish now known, no more I am a supplian
By that which dearer than his life he holds.
288
If stript of these his fair domains, and banish'd
His native land, his virtue still will give him
Sweeter repose than ever tyrant knew;
But if his blood must stain the guilty scaffold,
Eternal infamy shall blot the memory
Of generous Francis, and the latest ages
Shall view the shining virtues which emblaze
His boasted name as but the rays of tinsel.
In generous glow of mind, which cost him nothing,
He was a heroe; but when selfish passion
Whisper'd its tyrant claim, the basest slave
Ne'er sacrificed his neighbour's happiness
With more stone-hearted colder cruelty.
Such will the heart that warms in honour's cause
In latest times pronounce thee.
KING.
Gentle Lady,
Though thus you wound my honour, by my sceptre,
My kingdom's welfare touches not my heart
With such an earnest zealous care as yours.
O give me then the power, and thou and Raymond
Shall yet be happy.
ERMINIA.
Firmly I demand
The duteous justice which the Heaven's dread sovereign
Exacts from proudest kings. Dark fraud, and art
Of soulest stain, alone have fix'd on Raymond,
What lightest colour of offence he bears.
289
My Honour to thy arms shall give thy Raymond.
O yet believe thy happiness inspires
My dearest wish—
[Exit.
ERMINIA.
O Raymond, how my heart
Bleeds o'er thy wrongs!—But Heaven now gives me courage,
And I will vindicate thy injur'd honour.
[Exit
| The Siege of Marseilles | |