University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

The garden, at midnight: the sky lowering. Cosmo enters without a hat: after wandering about disturbedly, throws himself on the ground.
Cos.
O that I were a shackled slave!—the wretched'st
That ever earned the bread of toil!—Marry her!
What, marry—I cannot—O, no, no—
What fiend seduced?—what worse than frenzy—Oh!
To-morrow—and farewell to hope—linked, linked,
Indissolubly linked to life-long woe!—
Where, now, are all those dreams of bliss,
So dear, so tender, they attuned my heart
To ecstasy?—Gone, perished, blotted out,
With that fair, fancied excellence!—Can she
Sleep sweetly while such billows toss my soul?—
Yonder 's her chamber—Lies she there
In tranquil slumber? Ah! who 's in her dream?
Once—But never, never, never more!—
Mountains have risen, oceans roll between us!—
O! what a snare is tangled round me—

Enter Orsini.
Ors.
This way the sound was.—Ha!
(Perceiving Cosmo on the ground.)
Is this kind dealing, Cosmo?
Why not impart thy sorrows to a friend?

Cos.
Intrude not here. Who spoke of sorrows? Leave me.

Ors.
Small skill have I in marriage mysteries,
Or aught pertaining to the sex thou dotest on,
But if these be the nuptial joys I came
To witness, gods keep me ungyved, and grant
No mistress but my sword. I thought to see
A bridegroom's face caparisoned in smiles,
Love-knots and wreaths of roses blooming round
His voluntary chains; a merry prelude,
Whatever might come after. But, by Heaven,
When you came forth to welcome me, a thief's,
A sentenced traitor's look was ne'er more haggard.
Their faces all within seem clad in mourning.
How savagely you answered, when I broke
A harmless jest on your approaching bondage.

Cos.
Death, poverty, or shame,—but name not that!

Ors.
Why there it is!—Speak out.—What is it wrings
Thy spirit thus?—I 've heard thy hasty step
Beating the chamber; heard thee stealing out,
And, on my soul, I knew not but thou 'dst come
To do some rashness. Speak. What ails thee?

Cos.
I'm a wretch.

Ors.
What cursed thing has happened?

Cos.
I'm betrayed.
Leave me.

Ors.
Who has betrayed thee?

Cos.
She,—the fiend
Who had my heart in keeping.

Ors.
Weary not
My patience. Tell the plain, right onward story;
Then, if heart, sword, or honest counsel—

Cos.
Remember'st—Know'st of whom so oft I spake?

Ors.
Demetria.

Cos.
O! I thought in her was summed
All excellence,—so pure, so gentle, faithful—

Ors.
I know you thought so.

Cos.
Thought her heart my prize;
Believed she loved me with a spotless passion.
To see me wedded to this paragon
I asked thy presence.

Ors.
Well?

Cos.
She 's false—I'm cozened;—
To serve her amorous purpose with another,
She but dissembled.

Ors.
What! and still thou wed'st her?

Cos.
Wed'st?—O, heaven!—
No, no, I do not wed her!—Carlo! ah!
I'm not so blessed. For, spite of all,—wrongs, guilt,
And shame,—spite of my soul, I love her.

Ors.
Curse—
And dost thou beat up this ado, because
The cunning harlotry has spared thy name
To brand dishonor elsewhere?

Cos.
No, I say.

Ors.
What then? Unfold your riddles.

Cos.
That this, that this
Were all!—and yet 't were cause methinks.—
Orsini,—O!—to-morrow—curse upon it!—
Shackles me to Olivia.

Ors.
(checking surprise.)
Well, she 's fair,
And stately; what of that?

Cos.
I love her not;—
Have I not told thee?—Every fibre clings
To that deceiver.

Ors.
Rash, misguided man!
Thinking to pique her, make her feel, with all
Her wiles she could not hurt thee, thou hast pulled
Destruction on thy head.

Cos.
Thou hast it.

Ors.
Jove!
I pity thee. How couldst thou be so mad?
Cast prudence clean away? and fling the reins
To wildest—

Cos.
Spare your breath:—I'm in no mood:—
Go to the earthquake:—ask why it desolates.

Ors.
But how was this discovered? Who unmasked her?
Is it proved? certain?

Cos.
As the hell that racks me.

Ors.
But how? how proved?

Cos.
By her own letter,—
A fair confession, written out—I saw it—
In her own hand. A maid, too,—honest soul,—
Told me the whole,—who 'd seen their private meetings,
O'erheard their plots, and heard them jeer me.

Ors.
Damn her!
For manhood, shame, waste not another sigh
On such a cockatrice. Drop on thy knees,
And bless the miracle of thine escape.
By Janus! he who not—who scorns not—bans not,—
Were fitter to squeak treble to a choir,
Be doorkeeper to a harem, shaveling monk,
Than to enroll himself with noble men,
And belt the warrior's glaive.

Cos.
Thou know'st not what it is;—
O! that I could—curse,—hate her,—cast her off;—
But ah! she circles in the vital stream
That nourishes my heart: life stops without her.

Ors.
Forbear! this sorceress has bewitched thee, Cosmo.
Think, what must follow such unmanly yielding:
This feebleness will tarnish every laurel,
Destroy thy peace for ever.

Cos.
O, I know it.
Why tell of that?—Think'st thou I hope for peace?
Thou dost not feel,—thou canst not understand me.

Ors.
Indeed, I feel; but as a soldier ought—

Cos.
(starting suddenly and grasping Orsini.)
She 's there! she 's there!
(The lattice of Demetria's window uncloses, and, by the light burning within, she is seen before it. Cosmo watches her with breathless emotion, holding Orsini fast. In a few moments she retires, then reappears with her lute, and touches a melancholy air. Cosmo hides his face on Orsini's shoulder.)
O, heavens! the same,—the very same!

Ors.
Beware! she hears thee.

(Alarmed by their voices, Demetria looks towards the spot where they stand; closes the lattice and retires.)
Cos.
The notes she struck the night I first beheld her!—
Both children.—Little, little I imagined—
O! that mine eyes had never seen her!

Ors.
Gods!
If wishing would avail, I would wish too.

Cos.
From that same hour I loved her, watched her spread
Into the matchless thing I left her.—Curse
Ambition! curse on glory! cursed be all
That made me leave her. Had I been wise and watchful,
She had been spotless, I too happy! Now—
O! Carlo, Carlo! what does this drear world
Contain for me?—Ah! yes, one joy awaits me;—
I'm to be married,—married to another.

Ors.
Come, come, let 's not stay here all night.

Cos.
What subtle fiend contrived this crown to misery?
I might have dreamed upon her,—might have hoped;—
Now, I'm to plunge lower than Erebus,
Deeper than hell, where not a dungeon glimmer
Can cleave the solid darkness. O! that Honor
Did not confront me—tyrant!—well I know—
I 'd not stand shivering on the brink—

Ors.
O, foul!
What, win her? fix the day? almost espouse her,
And then desert?

Cos.
Orsini, till this hour,
I 've kept the path of honor. Need I now
Thy counsel to sustain me?—There it is,—
That idol chains me.—Were my fate but once
Mine own, I know—

Ors.
It grieves me, dearest Cosmo,—

Cos.
Am not I, now, the veriest slave?—The blow,
The only blow that can emancipate,
Annihilates mine honor?

Ors.
Give o'er such thoughts.

Cos.
Leave me, Orsini. It is mockery
To stuff my ears with womanish condolence.
Am I not capable to scan my fate
With eyes as keen as thine? Point me a straw,
A gossamer, to snatch at,—any way
To scape this pit of horrors—Canst thou?—
Away, then!—Leave me to my solitude.

Ors.
No, Cosmo, thou art mad with sorrow. Clouds, too,
Are gathering—

Cos.
Honest Carlo, prithee leave me.
Dost apprehend violence upon myself?
Look!—here 's my dagger,—take it. On my soul
I 've now no weapon.—Only leave me.

Ors.
Ah!—
Is this a place, or hour, for meditation?
Come, Cosmo, come; return with me to shelter.

(Takes hold of him.)
Cos.
(grasping Orsini.)
Must I be penned in corners? watched? schooled? bayed?
Lose my last privilege?—Back!—I warn thee!—Back!
Follow me not.

(Thrusts Orsini from him, and exit down the garden.)
Ors.
(looking after him.)
'T is mockery, indeed.—His passion swells
Beyond all governance. I could weep too.—
Must this go on?—Is there no remedy?—
How if his uncle should step in?—Were 't best?—
But who can break with him?—I dare not do it:—
First, being but a stranger; then my friend
Would hold himself dishonored and betrayed.—
I fear he is undone!—Most fatal rashness!—
Poor wretch!—I dare not leave him out all night.
Here, in this arbour, I will watch awhile.

(Retires.)