University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

—Wishart's Cell in the Sea-tower of the Castle.
Wishart
discovered kneeling.
O Thou, who, from thy glorious throne on high,
Look'st down into the darkness of this world,
And seest thy sin-sick servants tarrying here
Amid this world's corruption and their own,—
Father of Mercy, look upon me now
In mercy, and support me in the hour
Of fiery tribulation for thy sake!
If rightly I have read thy precious word,
Applying to my wounded soul its salves,—
If blameless I've expounded it to others,
Administ'ring to their diseased hearts
The healing consolation it contains,—
O be thy hand now on me, to confirm
My soul against all natural alarms,
And buoy her up with hopes celestial,
Else faint and drooping at th'approach of death.
(The door of the Cell suddenly opens, and Duncan enters.)
Who comes to interrupt, in my last hour,
Unbidden thus, my converse with my God?

DUNCAN.
I come, my brother! into thy dear arms
Once more to fall—alas, the last embrace!—
O, pardon me, sweet saint, that I intrude
Unseasonably so upon thy prayers;
I cannot stay aloof from thee—I must
Share the devotions of thy last sad hours;
I must upraise my hands with thee to heaven;
And if thou suff'rest frailty's tears to fall,
I must needs weep to part with thee for ever!

WISHART.
Talk not of weeping, my beloved friend;
This is an hour of gladness, not of grief;
Behold my spirit elevate in joy;
Ere the last pains o'ertake her, she puts off
Her cumbrous garments of woe-giving flesh,
And shakes her loose from every manacle
Of earth, the sooner to arrive in heaven.

DUNCAN.
O take me thither with thee; let me climb
With thee the chariot of consuming fire,
That wafts thee like Elijah to the sky.
Else I shall wander lonely through the earth,
Elisha-like, companionless and sad,
Mine only joy, the cherish'd memory
Of those sweet conversations we have had;
Mine only hope, to 'scape away from life,
And join thee in the palaces of heaven!

WISHART.
Bear thou to live, my friend; a little while
Bear to behold the oppressions of the just;
Ere long these killing storms shall overblow,
And leave the Sun of Truth and Happiness
Possessing with his beams the firmament.
Then shall men dwell in gospel-bowers with joy;
Then shalt thou gather from diviner lips
Than mine, far richer fruits of eloquence,
To sublimate thy spirit meet for heaven.
Be these glad prospects, be thy holy hopes,
Be the blest themes we did discuss together,
Be the consoling promises of God
Thy stay, amid the desolating wreck
Of death-dissolved friendships, oh, my friend!

DUNCAN.
Alas, these consolations and these themes,
All joyous as they are, are coupled so
With the remembrance of the man that sow'd
Joy-bearing seed into my barren heart,
That as they daily, hourly shall recur
To me so reft, thy never-sundered image
Shall tinge their very joy with melancholy,
Making me pine away, till I o'ertake
Thy steps before me into Paradise.

WISHART.
Heaven's cheering grace remain with thee for ever,
Gilding thy course of earthly pilgrimage,
That thou mayst do thy various duties well,
To God, and to thy friends, and to thyself!
I too had duties whilst I was on earth,
But death has cut their glad fulfilment off.
On thee that charge I joyfully devolve,
Making thee proxy to my dearest duties.
My mother had me once a loving son;
Now she's forlorn, and has thee in my stead:
O be her son for me, and comfort her,
Amid her childless solitude and tears;
Yet in my words exhort her not to weep,
But pray for mercy to my enemies,
Rejoicing that her son is gone before
Into that glory she anticipates.
And give her this, this last, this valued token,
Which I have treasured long beside my heart.
[Gives him his pocket Bible.
Tell her 'twas this that fortified me so,
That bore me on its golden promises,
Amid the gentle meltings of the flesh,
Unstinging of its pain the element
On whose bright waving spires I climb to heaven;
And on her cheek, for me her son in heaven,
Impress, my faithful friend, the last salute;
Oh, give her this—

[Falls on his neck and kisses him.
DUNCAN.
Alas, my friend, my brother!
Excuse these tears; if thou hast little cause
To weep in leaving this vain world of sin,
I sure have much in sep'rating from thee,
So pure, my blest example and my guide.
O it shall be my happiness, my pride,
To these devolved duties to succeed;
And thy last words and tender sweet commissions
Shall be transmitted and fulfill'd as well
As one can do, who ever on his heart
Shall have thy blessing and thy words engraved.

[Here enters Dishington, Captain of the Castle.
DISHINGTON.
My friends, (for by that name I call you both,)
I grieve, my cruel urgency of office
Compels me to intrude on your discourse,
Unwillingly reminding that the hour
Appointed for departure is at hand.

WISHART.
Now, let us part, my friend—Heaven wills we should.—
Good Dishington, I follow thee with joy.

DUNCAN.
Yet I will cling to thee, my much-beloved,
E'en till th'invidious fire shall interpose
His burning hand t'untwine our last embrace!

[Exeunt.