University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

De Monfort 's apartments. Enter De Monfort, with a disordered air, and his hand pressed upon his forehead, followed by Jane.
De Mon.
No more, my sister, urge me not again:
My secret troubles cannot be reveal'd.
From all participation of its thoughts
My heart recoils: I pray thee be contented.

Jane.
What, must I, like a distant humble friend,
Observe thy restless eye, and gait disturb'd,
In timid silence, whilst with yearning heart
I turn aside to weep? O no! De Monfort!
A nobler task thy nobler mind will give;
Thy true entrusted friend I still shall be.

De Mon.
Ah, Jane, forbear! I cannot e'en to thee.

Jane.
Then, fy upon it! fy upon it, Monfort!
There was a time when e'en with murder stain'd,
Had it been possible that such dire deed
Could e'er have been the crime of one so piteous,
Thou wouldst have told it me.

De Mon.
So would I now—but ask of this no more.
All other trouble but the one I feel
I had disclos'd to thee. I pray thee spare me.
It is the secret weakness of my nature.

Jane.
Then secret let it be; I urge no farther.
The eldest of our valiant father's hopes,
So sadly orphan'd, side by side we stood,
Like two young trees, whose boughs in early strength
Screen the weak saplings of the rising grove,
And brave the storm together—
I have so long, as if by nature's right,
Thy bosom's inmate and adviser been,
I thought through life I should have so remain'd,
Nor ever known a change. Forgive me, Monfort,
A humbler station will I take by thee:
The close attendant of thy wand'ring steps;
The cheerer of this home, with strangers sought;
The soother of those griefs I must not know:
This is mine office now: I ask no more.

De Mon.
Oh, Jane! thou dost constrain me with thy love!
Would I could tell it thee!

Jane.
Thou shalt not tell me. Nay I'll stop mine ears,
Nor from the yearnings of affection wring
What shrinks from utt'rance. Let it pass, my brother.
I'll stay by thee; I'll cheer thee, comfort thee:
Pursue with thee the study of some art,
Or nobler science, that compels the mind
To steady thought progressive, driving forth
All floating, wild, unhappy fantasies;
Till thou, with brow unclouded, smil'st again;
Like one who, from dark visions of the night,
When th' active soul within its lifeless cell
Holds it own world, with dreadful fancy press'd
Of some dire, terrible, or murd'rous deed,
Wakes to the dawning morn, and blesses heaven.

De Mon.
It will not pass away; 'twill haunt me still.

Jane.
Ah! say not so, for I will haunt thee too;
And be to it so close an adversary,
That, though I wrestle darkling with the fiend,
I shall o'ercome it.

De Mon.
Thou most gen'rous woman!
Why do I treat thee thus? It should not be—
And yet I cannot—O that cursed villain!
He will not let me be the man I would.

Jane.
What sayst thou, brother? Oh! what words are these?
They have awak'd my soul to dreadful thoughts.
I do beseech thee, speak!
[He shakes his head, and turns from her; she following him.
By the affection thou didst ever bear me;
By the dear mem'ry of our infant days;
By kindred living ties, ay, and by those
Who sleep i' the tomb, and cannot call to thee,
I do conjure thee, speak!
[He waves her off with his hand and covers his face with the other, still turning from her.
Ah! wilt thou not?
(Assuming dignity.)
Then, if affection, most unwearied love,
Tried early, long, and never wanting found,
O'er gen'rous man hath more authority,
More rightful power than crown or sceptre give,
I do command thee.
[He throws himself into a chair, greatly agitated.
De Monfort, do not thus resist my love.
Here I entreat thee on my bended knees.
[Kneeling.
Alas! my brother!

[De Monfort starts up, and catching her in his arms, raises her up, then placing her in the chair, kneels at her feet.
De Mon.
Thus let him kneel who should the abased be,
And at thine honour'd feet confession make!
I'll tell thee all—but, oh! thou wilt despise me.
For in my breast a raging passion burns,
To which thy soul no sympathy will own—
A passion which hath made my nightly couch
A place of torment; and the light of day,
With the gay intercourse of social man,
Feel like th' oppressive airless pestilence.
O Jane! thou wilt despise me.

Jane.
Say not so:
I never can despise thee, gentle brother.
A lover's jealousy and hopeless pangs
No kindly heart contemns.

De Mon
A lover, sayst thou?
No, it is hate! black, lasting, deadly hate!
Which thus hath driven me forth from kindred peace,
From social pleasure, from my native home,
To be a sullen wand'rer on the earth,
Avoiding all men, cursing and accurs'd.

Jane.
De Monfort, this is fiend-like, frightful, terrible!
What being, by th' Almighty Father form'd,
Of flesh and blood, created even as thou,
Could in thy breast such horrid tempest wake,
Who art thyself his fellow?
Unknit thy brows, and spread those wrath-clench'd hands.
Some sprite accurs'd within thy bosom mates
To work thy ruin. Strive with it, my brother!
Strive bravely with it; drive it from thy breast;
'Tis the degrader of a noble heart:
Curse it, and bid it part.

De Mon.
It will not part. (His hand on his breast.)
I've lodg'd it here too long:
With my first cares I felt its rankling touch;
I loath'd him when a boy.

Jane.
Whom didst thou say?

De Mon.
Oh! that detested Rezenvelt!
E'en in our early sports, like two young whelps
Of hostile breed, instinctively reverse,
Each 'gainst the other pitch'd his ready pledge,
And frown'd defiance. As we onward pass'd
From youth to man's estate, his narrow art
And envious gibing malice, poorly veil'd
In the affected carelessness of mirth,
Still more detestable and odious grew.
There is no living being on this earth
Who can conceive the malice of his soul,
With all his gay and damned merriment,
To those, by fortune or by merit plac'd
Above his paltry self. When, low in fortune,
He look'd upon the state of prosp'rous men,
As nightly birds, rous'd from their murky holes,
Do scowl and chatter at the light of day,
I could endure it; even as we bear
Th' impotent bite of some half-trodden worm,
I could endure it. But when honours came,
And wealth and new-got titles fed his pride;
Whilst flatt'ring knaves did trumpet forth his praise,
And grov'ling idiots grinn'd applauses on him;
Oh! then I could no longer suffer it!
It drove me frantic.—What! what would I give!
What would I give to crush the bloated toad,
So rankly do I loathe him!

Jane.
And would thy hatred crush the very man
Who gave to thee that life he might have ta'en;
That life which thou so rashly didst expose
To aim at his? Oh! this is horrible!

De Mon.
Ha! thou hast heard it, then? From all the world,
But most of all from thee, I thought it hid.

Jane.
I heard a secret whisper, and resolv'd
Upon the instant to return to thee.
Didst thou receive my letter?

De Mon.
I did! I did! 'twas that which drove me hither.
I could not bear to meet thine eye again.

Jane.
Alas! that, tempted by a sister's tears,
I ever left thy house! These few past months,
These absent months, have brought us all this woe.
Had I remain'd with thee it had not been.
And yet, methinks, it should not move you thus.
You dar'd him to the field; both bravely fought;
He more adroit disarm'd you; courteously
Return'd the forfeit sword, which, so return'd,
You did refuse to use against him more;
And then, as says report, you parted friends.

De Mon.
When he disarm'd this curs'd, this worthless hand
Of its most worthless weapon, he but spar'd
From dev'lish pride, which now derives a bliss
In seeing me thus fetter'd, sham'd, subjected
With the vile favour of his poor forbearance;
While he securely sits with gibing brow,
And basely bates me like a muzzled cur
Who cannot turn again.—
Until that day, till that accursed day,
I knew not half the torment of this hell,
Which burns within my breast. Heaven's lightnings blast him!

Jane.
O this is horrible! Forbear, forbear!
Lest heaven's vengeance light upon thy head,
For this most impious wish.

De Mon.
Then let it light.
Torments more fell than I have felt already
It cannot send. To be annihilated,
What all men shrink from; to be dust, be nothing,
Were bliss to me, compar'd to what I am!

Jane.
Oh! wouldst thou kill me with these dreadful words?

De Mon.
(raising his hands to heaven).
Let me but once upon his ruin look,
Then close mine eyes for ever!
[Jane, in great distress, staggers back, and supports herself upon the side scene. De Mon., alarmed, runs up to her with a softened voice.
Ha! how is this? thou'rt ill; thou'rt very pale.
What have I done to thee? Alas, alas!
I meant not to distress thee.—O my sister!

Jane
(shaking her head).
I cannot speak to thee.

De Mon.
I have kill'd thee.
Turn, turn thee not away! look on me still!
Oh! droop not thus, my life, my pride, my sister;
Look on me yet again.

Jane.
Thou too, De Monfort,
In better days, wert wont to be my pride.

De Mon.
I am a wretch, most wretched in myself,
And still more wretched in the pain I give.
O curse that villain! that detested villain!
He has spread mis'ry o'er my fated life:
He will undo us all.

Jane.
I've held my warfare through a troubled world,
And borne with steady mind my share of ill;
For thou wert then the helpmate of my toil.
But now the wane of life comes darkly on,
And hideous passion tears me from thy heart,
Blasting thy worth.—I cannot strive with this.

De Mon.
(affectionately).
What shall I do?

Jane.
Call up thy noble spirit;
Rouse all the gen'rous energy of virtue;
And with the strength of heaven-endued man,
Repel the hideous foe. Be great; be valiant.
O, if thou couldst! e'en shrouded as thou art
In all the sad infirmities of nature,
What a most noble creature wouldst thou be!

De Mon.
Ay, if I could: alas! alas! I cannot.

Jane.
Thou canst, thou mayst, thou wilt.
We shall not part till I have turn'd thy soul.

Enter Manuel.
De Mon.
Ha! some one enters. Wherefore com'st thou here?

Man.
Count Freberg waits your leisure.

De Mon.
(angrily).
Begone, begone!—I cannot see him now.

[Exit Manuel.
Jane.
Come to my closet; free from all intrusion,
I'll school thee there; and thou again shalt be
My willing pupil, and my gen'rous friend,
The noble Monfort I have lov'd so long,
And must not, will not lose.

De Mon.
Do as thou wilt; I will not grieve thee more.

[Exeunt.