University of Virginia Library

SCENE X.

The inside of a cavern. The setting sun seen through a chasm in the rock. Ricardo and other banditti discovered drinking.
Ricardo.
'Tis strange, that thro' this solitary wood
No traveller has pass'd since yester-dawn!
Beshrew me but I'm weary of our trade;
Knaves are so multiplied, that honest men
Live better than ourselves; and more secure,
For each depends upon himself alone.

Second Robber.
Ricardo, dost thou doubt our firm alliance?

Ricardo.
In truth, not I; it is the Time's disease
That palsies honesty; for villains thrive
In such profusion of victorious guilt,
That secresy is useless to our calling.
Why skulk in cavern'd mountains, shrink from light,
And lurk in ambush for the trav'ller's gold,
While in the broad effulgence of full noon,
In cities, throng'd with gaping multitudes,
The bolder caitiff plunders all secure!

Third Robber.
Thou know'st the world, Ricardo.

Ricardo.
Yes; enough
To make me shun one half the race of man,
And pity all the rest! so frail is nature!

First Robber.
Discrimination finds no easy task
In searching the gay paths of busy life,
Where all is outward artificial show,
Put on to varnish falsehood.

Ricardo.
True; but deception wears so thin a mask,
That stern philosophy ne'er fails to note it.
Whatever shape, complexion, or disguise,
Hypocrisy may take, of ermin'd robe,
Or threadbare vestment scant, or witching smile,
Or cynic brow austere, it cannot hide
The base deformity that lurks within;
The bold and ragged knave less dang'rous still
Than he who pranks him in a cloth of gold!

Valmont.
(without.)
Hillo! within there.

Ricardo.
Silence, good fellows:
Let us retire, and shrewd observance make
Of our unwary guest; perchance some poor
And woe-worn pilgrim here would find a nook
To shield his body from the midnight blast:
Do not forget, my comrades, we are men.

[Exeunt to the inner cave.
Enter Valmont, in the habit of a vassal, supporting Honoria, who has a white veil partly thrown off her face: she enters fearfully.
Valmont.
Here nothing can molest thee. Night draws near,
And ere dim shadows shroud the twilight gleam
I'll venture forth; not far from this lone spot
I mark'd a clust'ring vineyard, whose scorch'd bank
Was kindly freshen'd by a limpid spring,
That from the neighb'ring steep meand'ring flow'd.
They shall supply our solitary meal;
And, when the smiling yellow-vested morn
Crowns with a wreath of gold the eastern hill,
We will pursue our journey. Cheerly, love;
Look up, and all our miseries will end.

Honoria.
Think'st thou that murder will not cry aloud,
And rouse the fates to vengeance? Will yon Heav'n,
Whose beamy eye encompasseth the world,
Wink at the deed of horror? Ev'ry thorn
That festers in the deeply-wounded mind
May from Time's lenient pow'r a balsam take
To draw its poison forth; save where the hand,
Blurr'd with the life-stream of a fellow creature,
Contaminates the means ordain'd to heal,
And leaves the wretch past cure!

Valmont
(grasping his sword.)
'Twere best to die!
That cure at least is ready to my grasp;
Thou know'st I am no coward—

Honoria.
Dreadful thought!
Oh! wouldst thou then destroy thy better part,
Turn from the balsam Heav'n in pity leaves
To cleanse thy soul's deep wound and seal its pardon?
Wouldst thou sum up the dark account of horrors,
And, by the sure damnation of thy deed,
Rush from this transitory scene of anguish
To the dread chaos of eternal woe?

Valmont.
The complicated pangs that rend my heart
Would melt the ministers of wrath to mercy.

Honoria.
But will not justice urge her sacred claim?
Will not the tongues of men denounce the act
That bids humanity recoil, aghast?

Valmont.
Why did I quit my home? My lofty state
Had silenc'd busy clamour, and forbad
The breath of calumny to taint my name!

Honoria.
Oh! empty sophistry! delusive hope!
'Tis in thy greatness thy conviction lies.
Unseen, the sweetest low-born buds decay;
But the proud Cedar, tow'ring on the rock,
Stands like a land-mark to attract men's eyes;
And, tho' it shares the bright meridian blaze,
It cannot 'scape the pelting of the storm!

Valmont.
Soon as my footsteps greet Helvetia's land,
I may defy my fate; for there, secure,
What slave shall menace Valmont?

Ricardo
(observing them from the inner cave.)
Valmont!

Valmont.
Hah! heard'st thou not a voice, with hollow sound,
Repeat the name of Valmont?

Honoria.
Such it seem'd;
'Twas but the echo of this vaulted cave.
Now let me rest; and while you venture forth
To seek refreshing fruits, I'll watch and pray!

Valmont.
I will not leave thee long; and Heav'n, I trust,
Will guard thee till my weary steps return.

[Exit.
Honoria.
Now all is still, and terrible as death!
Here meditation fearfully employs
The melancholy hour; yet unappall'd
Hood-wink'd destruction seems to stalk secure!
What, if my father should no more return?
How shall I find my way? where seek repose?
Oh! Alferenzi! [taking a picture from her bosom]
if thy spirit blest
Could visit these dread haunts, thou wouldst appear,
To soothe me with a gleam of consolation!

Ricardo
(still observing her.)
I will protect thee!

Honoria.
Celestial pow'rs! again the airy voice
Of some prophetic spirit strikes my soul
With petrifying sounds! Perhaps this cave,
Fill'd with enchantment, is the dark abode
Of spectres horrible, whose bleeding wounds
Make ghastly show of murder unaveng'd!
An icy languor creeps along my veins,
Forewarning me of danger near at hand!
My father, oh! return.—He hears me not!
Where shall I hide me? all within is death!
And all without, a solitary wild,
Bestrew'd with thorns and perilous to tread!
This inner cavern will be less expos'd
To the night's nipping air— [The robbers rush forth.

O God! defend me! What is your intent?
I do expect some mercy, as you hope
Yourselves to be forgiv'n!

Second Robber.
What are you, lady?

Honoria.
The wretched offspring of a wretched Sire;
A wand'ring exile from my native home;
Too poor for plunder, and too proud to weep;
For I believe that virtue bears a charm
Which bids the boldest villain shrink appall'd.

Third Robber
(siezing Honoria.)
Nay, if you brave us—you shall know our pow'r!

Ricardo.
Ruffian! stand back. Sweet lady, you are safe!
For he that lifts his sacrilegious hand
To strike at helpless woman, shames mankind,
And sinks his coward soul so deep in hell,
That nature scorns to own him! Spare your thanks;
I will defend you; we are desp'rate men;
But cruelty can never urge that sword
Which courage vaunts the bearing.

Honoria.
Generous man!
Now I can weep! But they are thankful tears!
Wrongs urge the soul to vengeance, and call forth
That pride which proves the antidote to grief;
But kindness steals so sweetly o'er the sense,
So melts the throbbing heart with tender joy,
That, as the sun darts forth amidst the storm,
The eye of grateful rapture beams thro' tears!

Ricardo.
Soon must I leave you, for the hour draws near
Which calls us to our watchful occupation.

Honoria
(kneeling to Ricardo.)
O! hear me.
If in your pathway you should chance to meet
A venerable man, for my sake spare him!
His years are nearly number'd; let him live
To make his peace with Heav'n! for much, I fear,
He's not prepar'd for death!

Ricardo.
He shall be safe.
Now, let me counsel you to seek repose.
In yon small cavern lies a rushy couch,
Where innocence may taste of balmy dreams,
For guilt has often slumber'd there secure!
Lady, Heav'n guard you!

[Exeunt banditti.
Honoria.
Thou art not us'd to pray! and yet thy voice
May find swift passport to the realms of grace,
When pious fraud may supplicate in vain;
For thou art merciful! Alas! I fear
Some savage thing hath cross'd my father's way;
The prowling wolf; or, what is far more fell,
Man, without pity for his hapless kind!
Thou solitary den, where guilt retires
To hold fierce converse with the fiends accurs'd,
Undaunted I approach thee! for that pow'r
Which guards the cradled infant while it sleeps,
Sustains the lab'ring bark amidst the storm,
And, while the tempest rends the mountain pine,
Shields the poor shepherd's cot, will not forsake
The child of sorrow in the hour of rest!

[Exit to the inner cave.