 | Witchcraft |  |
SCENE III.
—Village.Enter Jarvis Dane and Susanna, R. H.
Susanna.
Aye, Jarvis Dane, I thus and now dismiss you—
He is my shield, my pillow, and my home.
Jarvis.
He hates you, scorns you, scoffs you.
Susanna.
Would that I had not spoken what I have;
I loved his mother once, but she hath snared me,—
If in your heart a single drop there be
Of charity, or in your hand a motion
Of remorse, pray kill me! I 'd rather die,
Than live bereft of him.
95
Oh, wretched girl—there 's more in this than I
Had thought! Come, come, Susanna.
Susanna.
[Aside.]
Perhaps he will be moved another day,
When he shall hear of it, he will recall
With many tears and lone lamentings, one,
Who, hand in hand, once blithely walked with him
The early fields, whose eye pursued his steps
Departing to the swarthy harvest toil,
As morning doth the bounding deer's glad way,
Welcomed in smiles his dear approach, as sun-down
Home-returning birds to rest and downy peace—
Whose dewy youth was fond and beautiful,
With his beneath the same untroubled sky;—
Gideon, dear Gideon, I know a way
To draw a tear from thee,—oh, blissful thought,—
He'll weep, he'll weep, I know he cannot help
But weep, when he shall hear it told.
[Exit Susanna, L. H.
Jarvis.
How wild and strange her look;—I fear this spell,—
Or what we all have chosen to call a spell—
Will work her ruin; her mind begins to waver,
And her eyes glowed fierce with horrid wanderings!
Poor Susanna! though thou hast cast me off,
And scorned me, as the false Gideon thee,
I will not leave thee in thine hour of need;
No, I will follow thee, and save thee from thyself.
[Exit Jarvis, L. H.
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