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SCENE V.
The pavilion. Demetria appears from the wood; totters into it, and sinks upon a seat.Dem.
I feel it—shooting through my heart:—the hand
Of death is on me. Now, the parting comes.—
'T is dismal!—Would I had some friend to cheer me;—
Some kindly breast to lay my head upon!—
To die—alone—
(Suddenly clasping her hands.)
—That 's not the worst!
O! mother, intercede!—go prostrate!—plead!
Wrestle, ah! wrestle for me, mother!—Clasp Her feet,
And say I could have borne aught, aught but this!—
Thou mayst prevail—thou mayst embrace me yet!—
O, hear'st thou?—Give some sign—Dear mother,
Whisper me! breathe upon me!—O! some sign!—
Alas! alas! all things are silent!—Ha!
Who 's here?
(Cosmo throws himself at her feet, unable to speak.)
Whom do you seek for here, my lord?
Cos.
I'm come to grovel here for pardon. Canst thou
Forgive a wretch like me? Demetria,—Oh!
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But never yet have been so cursed as not
To love thee.
Dem.
Rise, my lord, and leave this place.
Cos.
Never, no never, never will I quit
Thy feet, till thou hast sealed my pardon. Love,
We 've been undone by fiendish treachery!
The Foe of all has twined me in his snare;—
That moment, when I vowed to love another,
My soul clung to thee,—clung in agony.
Not for one breath, one heart-beat, have I ceased
To love thee. Canst thou, spotless Purity,
Pardon my sin, in giving ear to slanders?
Dem.
Ha, Cosmo! hast thou foundered on that rock?
Cos.
O, 't was so subtly laid! Fool! fool! I knew,
I might have known, that angels sin not. Yet,
So cunningly—I sought to rend the toils,
But could not. O! Demetria, canst thou, wronged
So cruelly, forgive the wretched Cosmo?
Dem.
I know not whom I 've injured?—Who could fix
A stain upon me?
Cos.
The child of hell that tends
Thy sister, mastered me by some strong spell:
Made me believe your heart was Barbadeca's,
And I but trifled with, to veil your passion.
Dem.
Heavenly powers!—O, Cosmo, Cosmo!—
How couldst thou credit such a tale?—my heart!—
Mine?—Barbadeca's?—O, how couldst thou?
Cos.
Fiends, fiends,
With hellish potions overcame my reason.
'T is done,—'t is past,—my peace is justly wrecked!—
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Me from remembrance: never think again
On one so damned.
Dem.
Take my pardon, Cosmo;
Would it were healing, as 't is freely given.
I fain would hear the mournful story; know
What frauds can so have wrought upon thy nature,
Upright and noble as I know it is.—
But 't is too late.—My Cosmo, we must part,—
Death's finger is upon me.
Cos.
(recoiling.)
Thou hast not!—
Dem.
Ah! Cosmo!—sorrows pressed so heavily—
Weak and alone—my constancy gave way—
I thought in one oblivious draught—
Cos.
So then,
I 've murdered thee! O, horror! horror! where
Is there a depth, dark as my reprobation?
Dem.
Don't blame thyself so bitterly, my Cosmo,
Because an evil star has crossed us here.
Perhaps, hereafter, we may meet in peace,
There, where the tongue of slander never stings,
Where no malicious fate can part us.
Cos.
Never—
Never!—Hope not for me.
Dem.
Would thou couldst feel
The peace, the bliss that settles at my soul!—
But now, disconsolate, alone, I thought
To breathe my spirit out, as in the desert;
Nought looked upon me but the silent heavens;
No voice bemoaned me but the passing wind.
Now, reconciled love is near me; hope
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Music?—A sign some blessed one hovers near,
Commissioned to receive me.
Cos.
Must we part—
So newly met—Thou nothing know'st—not half,
Not half the love that agonizes here!
Dem.
Come near me, Cosmo:—let me lean upon thee:—
Nearer:—I 've loved thee long, and tenderly;—
I love thee still,—and never while this soul
Partakes of being, will thy virtues cease
Their influence o'er me. Whether it be my lot
To chant with white-stoled sisters, or to weep
An outcast, never shall I, can I, cease
To love thee. Let that soothe thine anguish. Now,
In this last solemn hour, the sharpest pang
I feel, is thus to leave thee here behind me
Afflicted and alone. For I had thought
To tread life's path beside thee, thought to share—
It cannot be—I feel it here—a grasp,
Like ice, benumbs me. Cosmo, let my prayer
Prevail.—Waste not thy life in useless sorrow:—
Be comforted—and cheer—my father.
Cos.
Comforted!—
Dem.
(in a fainter voice.)
Be not deceived—
O! by our loves,—by every hope, and fear,
I charge thee, lift not thy rash hand against
Thyself. O! 't is a solemn thing—That gleam
Has faded:—Darkness, dread uncertainty,
Oppress me.—Live—and pray for my unhappy—
(Her voice dies away.)
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Thou 'rt sinking—dying!—O, for words,—utterance,—
Loved—loved—O, I am—I cannot—
Dem.
(her head resting on his bosom.)
Ah, Cosmo! I have much to tell thee too—
More—many!—tender legacies—I 'd leave thee—
But shadows swim before me—shadows—
(Dies.)
Cos.
(for some time motionless.)
Still?—Dead?—Her heart beats not!—Yes—No—
Her pulse—All 's stopped! Dead! dead! I clasp her clay!
O sacrificed, O murdered angel!—This,
This is thy recompense!—Have I bereft
Those eyes of lustre? I broken that fond heart?—
What anguish must have driven her?—O, the pangs
The pangs her spirit suffered!—Thief! wretch! caitiff!—
I am too hateful!—Gentle, slaughtered angel!
One kiss—while life's perfume is on thy lips—
(Kisses her: gazes on her awhile: kisses her again.)
I ask no more than to partake thy lot!
(Stabs himself and sinks by her side.)
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