University of Virginia Library

Scene III

(The interior of the park in front of Macdonald's Palace. Enter Charles Stuart to Flora Macdonald.)
Charles Stuart
Oh! how upon the impatience of my ears,
Fall the soft billowy bounding of thy steps,
As if an angel from some glorious sphere,
Walked in the middle watch of still night,
Beneath the vigils of the moon in search
Of some immortal soul lost in the bowers!

Flora
The gentle firstborn of the flowery spring,
That knows no handling but the zephyr's kiss,
If once transplanted from its native bower,
Will droop beneath the culture of the hand.
There is no city love. Give me the pure
Felicity of cottage life, or none—
The joyous laugh, that mocking-bird of youth,
Singing of childhood's holy happiness
From the deep willings of the living soul,
Here, where the unsealed fulness of my heart
Rings its loud shout of jocund joy to Heaven,
And fills the infinite with melody!

Charles Stuart
Oh, thou art bound to me by all the ties
Of earth—cemented by the seal of heaven!
This gives me double duties to perform,
To keep the flower unsullied here on earth,
And make it yield its perfumes to heaven,
The sweetest flower in Caledonia's isle.
I am alive to newer longings now,
What is adversity to hearts most brave,
Since thou hast smiled upon my cause, but food
For my ambitious soul!

Flora
I smile for him
Whose glory shall contend with after-time
For Immortality.

Charles Stuart
Most glorious queen!
Thy words are to my heart like crystal streams
To their own banks adorned with odorous flowers.
To give all that we have to one we love,
Is not to lose.

Flora
But 'tis to make both rich.

Charles Stuart
For we profess not only what we give,
But her we give it to.

Flora
And thus it is,
That two, by keeping what they have, have naught,
Till they exchange, when each has made both rich.

Charles Stuart
For to profess that which we have is not
To have, if we exchange not to be rich.

Flora
So if we give to each what each one has,
We shall profess what both united have.

Charles Stuart
How different from the bargains of this world.
It is not so in aught but love.

Flora
In naught.
(Enter Boisdale, unobserved, behind them.)
To take from love is not to make it less.

Boisdale
(Aside)
What! making love? Fine business for a King!
This is the god that Lochiel told me of!
The King that drove me from his Page! By Heavens!
I would not have believed it from her lips!
Were I to take him from her arms, would there
Not be one less! There would. Thine is a false
Philosophy, my love! (Charles Stuart takes her hand.)

By Heavens! he takes her hand!
Oh! all ye thunderbolts of Heaven! Come, strike
Me dead!

Flora
Heard you not what I said, my lord?

Boisdale
(Aside)
My lord!

Charles Stuart
I did, my love.

Boisdale
(Aside)
And so did I,
My love! I never will trust woman more!

Charles Stuart
Thy voice is echoing in my soul.

Boisdale
(aside)
And mine.
Like seven loud thunders ruinous!

Flora
Come my lord!

Boisdale
(Aside)
By heavens! she beckons him away!
(They start away hand in hand.)
False! false!

Charles Stuart
(Leading her out)
The sweetest flower in Caledonia's isle!

Boisdale
Oh, God! she was the green oasis in
The dead alion of my soul! But no,
I will not curse her. Memory plucks away
The execration from my burning lips,
And sets forgiveness there! But she is false,
False as a harlot's oath. Yes, false as Hell!
And had he now ten thousand lives to lose—
For I would kill them all—they would not pay
Me for the injury he has done! No! no!
The fiery retribution of my hate
Is so intense that nothing but his blood,
His cursed blood, shall ever quench its flame!

(Exit)