Cleone :: :: University of Virginia Library

Sifroy, Beaufort Senior.
Beaufort Senior.
Rash man! what hast thou done? upon what ground
Dost thou impeach the honour of my name,
In treating thus my child? O thou hast from
Thy bosom cast away the sweetest flower
That ever Nature form'd.

Sifroy.
Reproach me not—
Commiserate a wretch, on whom severe
Affliction lays her iron hand!—O sir,
That flower which look'd so beauteous to the sense,
Turn'd wild, grew ranker than a common weed.

Beaufort Senior.
It is not—cannot be! Have I not known,
Even from her earliest childhood known her heart?
Known it the seat of tenderness and truth?
Her thoughts were ever pure as virgin snows
From heaven descending: and that modest blush
Display'd on her fair cheek, was Virtue's guard.
She could not fall thus low—my child is wrong'd!
Let me to thine own heart, my son, appeal:
Was she not all a parent's fondest wish—

Sifroy.
Call not to my distracted mind how fair,
How good she once appear'd.—Time was indeed,

When blest in her chaste love, I fondly thought
My heart possess'd of all that earth held fair
And amiable: but memory of past bliss
Augments the bitter pang of present woe!
Is she not chang'd—fallen—lost?

Beaufort Senior.
Patience, my son!
And calm the tempest of thy grief. Just Heaven
Will doubtless soon reveal the hidden deeds
Of guilt and shame. If thy unhappy wife
Thus wanton in the paths of Vice hath stray'd—
I would not rashly curse my darling child—
Yet hear me, righteous Heaven! May infamy,
Disease, and beggary imbitter all
Her wretched life! But my undoubting heart,
In full conviction of her spotless truth,
Acquits her of all crime.

Sifroy.
Is it no crime,
That listening to a vile seducer's voice,
She leaves her husband's house—her dearest friends?
Flies with her paramour to foreign climes,
A willing exile?

Beaufort Senior.
Art thou well inform'd
They went together? How doth it appear?
Who saw them? Where? Alas! thy headlong rage
Was too impatient to permit enquiry.

Sifroy.
Were they not missing both? both at one hour?

Say, for thou hast enquir'd; is Paulet sound?

Beaufort Senior.
He is not: but my son perhaps, whom zeal
To clear a much-lov'd sister's injur'd fame
Spurs on to make the strictest inquisition,
May bring some tydings.

Sifroy.
May kind Heaven direct
His steps where dark concealment hides their shame
From day, and from my just revenge.

Beaufort Senior.
Still, still
Thy rage with groundless inference concludes
Their un-prov'd guilt. Be calm, and answer me.
Think'st thou thy wife, if bent on loose designs,
Would madly join an infant in her flight,
T' impede her steps, and aggravate her shame?

Sifroy.
O my confusion! where, where is my child?
Alas, I had forgot the harmless innocent!
Bring to my arms the poor deserted babe!
He knows no crime, and guiltless of offence,
Shall put his little hands into my breast,
And ease a father's bosom of its sorrows.

Beaufort Senior.
Unhappy man! that comfort is deny'd thee.

Sifroy.
What mean'st thou?—Speak—Yet ah, take heed!
My heart already is too deeply pierc'd,

To bear another wound—What of my child?

Beaufort Sen.
That he's the partner of his mother's flight,
Should calm, not raise the tempest of thy grief—
As hence one would infer, that injury,
Not guilt, hath driven my daughter from thy house.
Who's her accuser?

Sifroy.
One
Whose honour, justice, and religious truth
Have oft been try'd, and ever faithful found.
He, sir, whose friendship, with reluctant grief.
At length disclosed my shame, was honest Glanville:
Report from vulgar breath I had despis'd.

Beaufort Sen.
So may high Heaven deal mercy to my child,
As I believe him treacherous and base.

[Enter Beaufort Jun.