 | The Earl of Douglas |  |
SCENE IV.
Enter Fleming guarded, who stops short on seeing Douglas and Lord David.Fleming.
O sight of horror! to behold those hands,
So oft extended to relieve the wretched,
Thus like a felon's bound!—
Douglas
, turning hastily about.
What voice is that!
Ha! Fleming too!—Where will their malice end!
What hast thou done, thou best of men and friends!
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Fleming.
I've lov'd and serv'd Lord Douglas as I ought,
From gratitude and duty. More than this,
I think, the conscience of my judges knows
I have not done, to merit the respect
They put upon me, thus to let me die,
With those I would not chuse to live behind.
Douglas.
A cruel favour!—'twas to stab me deeper
They sent thee hither—Welcome to my heart!
My arms are bound, but my affections free—
O had I listen'd to thy words of truth!
Mine eyes had ne'er beheld so sad a scene!
My only brother! and my faithful friend!
Fall by my folly!—
Fleming.
Talk not thus my Lord;
Forget the past; had righteous heav'n seen meet,
This snare you had escap'd; since it permits,
With dignity support your lot, and die
Greatly as you have liv'd. To die my Lord!
What is it? but to bear a moment's pain,
And bid a long adieu to this poor spot,
Where vice and error reign: to burst the shell
Which locks us up in matter, and to move
Free and unbounded through the works of God!
Douglas.
I would not wish to shame my fathers blood,
By vulgar fear, nor is there aught in death
So terrible, as parting with my friends.
My sister! O my sister!—How can she
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Affects the soul with many a grating pang,
Above the reach of language to express!
Not joyless age, nor keen distress can loose
The sympathetick tie, or cool the love
Which warms the breast of friends. To part! to die!
No more to hear the soothing voice that charms
The woes, the cares of human life to rest!
No more to taste the genuine joy that flows
From breast to breast, to fan the holy flame
Of social love and friendship—O my friend!
Thou know'st the pang thy heart was made to feel!
Fleming.
The friends of virtue part but for a moment:
The posting tide of life alone divides,
But half divides them: the unbounded soul
Outflies the lightning, shoots beyond the stars,
And tastes, in vision, their eternal feast,
Who first shake off the cumbrous load of clay.
Douglas.
Poor Grame! thou good old man, what griefs are thine!
Severely disciplin'd in virtue's school,
Thy soul, tho' tender, may support the shock.
But O my sister! hapless, virtuous maid!
For thee I feel, for thee the poignant tear
Swells in my eye—in spight of manhood flows!—
Fleming.
Rejoice my Lord, to gain your native skies!
And leave your sister to the care of heav'n.
Methinks I see your great force-fathers stand
With open arms, upon the happy shore,
To give you welcome—O the shining throng!
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Ye glorious sons of liberty we come!—
Douglas.
Adieu the world! my friends! to all below!
The charm's dissolv'd! and now I pant for bliss!
Blest liberty! with thee they live—We come!
Who would not die to grasp thee to his heart!
Fleming.
For liberty, your house hath often bled;
For liberty despis'd the love of life;
For liberty you die, these faithless men
With jealous eye beheld your opening worth,
And fear'd the just reward of their misrule.
Fear not your fame, for every generous heart
Must execrate the deed: nor fear your house
With you shall fall: these impious men shall live
In just contempt, till heav'n avenge their crimes.
Your family, so long the care of heav'n,
Again shall flourish; future kings shall boast
The blood of Douglas. Yonder lucid orb
A meaner planet may eclipse, but soon
He bursts with greater glory on the eye,
Relumes the arch of heav'n, and shines serene.
Officer.
Your time to live, my Lord, is nearly gone.
Douglas.
I know it, sir, and quickly shall have done—
(turning to Fleming and embracing him)
Farewel! my faithful counsellor, and friend!—
We soon shall meet again, to part no more!—
Fleming.
Till then, my dearest Lord!—Till then, farewel!—
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, embracing Fleming.
Farewel! sir Malcom!—'Tis a dismal hour!—
Fleming.
Farewel! sweet youth!—Have courage for a moment,
And these dark clouds will usher in the day!—
[Fleming retires to a corner of the Stage.
Douglas
, making up to Lord David.
And now my brother!—the world's to us no more!—
This heav'n permits, and providence is wise!—
My friend!—my brother!—a last!—a kind embrace!—
If our remembrance reach to future times,
Let it be told, I ask no other fame,
We liv'd as brothers, and like brothers died!—
Lord David.
Farewel! my Lord!—Will death be very painful?
Douglas.
No my sweet child! 'tis but a moment's pain.
(turning to the Officer of the guard)
I ne'er oblig'd you sir—Yet give me leave
To ask a favour—When we are no more,
I beg you'll see our bodies laid in earth.
A little spot will hold them; lay us all
Together in a grave—I have a sister,
May thank you for your charitable care.
If e'er you see her, sir,—Perhaps you may—
Bid her remember well my parting words.
Tell her, it was the very sting of death
To leave her, weak and helpless as she is,
In such a world, where virtue and her friends
Must bear so much. But bid her call to mind
The stock from whence she sprung, so often tried
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Whate'er might shame the noble pride of virtue.
Bid her forgive the wrongs we meet; nor charge
Unerring wisdom rashly. Born to die,
The time, the place, the manner, are to man
Of small importance; if in death his heart
Reproach him not with having liv'd in vain.
Officer.
My orders are, to see your corps interr'd
In decent manner, ere I leave the place;
Depend upon my care. Your other charge,
Should an occasion offer, ev'ry word
I'll faithfully relate—Deep in my mind
They are engrav'd; and never can wear out.
Douglas.
Then we are ready!—
(Douglas and Lord David retire to different corners of the Stage, and the Officer gives a signal to the Executioner, who enters with an Ax in his Hand)
Executioner
, kneeling.
On my knees my Lord,
I humbly ask forgiveness at your hands.
Douglas.
Thou never wrong'dst me friend—Accept of this,
'Tis all I have, (gives money)
and fearless do thy office,
When I shall drop my glove.
Lord David
, to the Executioner.
Take this of me—
(gives money)
When I stretch out my arm, I wish to die.
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, giving money.
When I shall drop my handkerchief—Take care!
And see thou strike not till the signs are giv'n.
Douglas
, embracing Lord David, and Fleming.
O could we die at once!—
Fleming.
First let me die!—
Lord David.
O leave not me my Lord!—
Douglas.
I will not long!—
Our friend shall bring thee with him—Think of heav'n!
Forgive thine enemies!—and bless thy friends!—
My friend!—my brother!—the world! and time adieu!
[Here the Curtain falls]
After a Piece of solemn Musick is performed, the Curtain is again drawn up.
| The Earl of Douglas | |