University of Virginia Library

Scene VI.

An Anteroom to Violenzia's Bedchamber. Dark.
Enter Robert and Arthur, with their swords drawn.
Arth.
Hist!
She sleeps within there.

Robt.
Let me breathe a moment;
What we are doing is not known in heaven yet;
The night is balmy fair, and the stars shine.

Arth.
Knock at the door.

Robt.
Oh, peace! listen awhile.

Arth.
No creature moves.

Robt.
Silence is audible,
And buzzes in mine ears. Hark where she comes!
Enter Violenzia in a white undress, bearing a light.
O frightful apparition! this is her ghost.

Vio.
My brothers!

Robt.
Hark! it speaks! O dreadful thing!

Vio.
Why do you stand with drawn swords and white faces,
Like wintry ghosts set in the gleaming moon?
You will not murder me? Help! help!

Arth.
(threatening her with his sword.)
Be still!
Open your lips again only to breathe,
I'll—

Vio.
I will not cry again, indeed I will not.
Why are you come? Have mercy! Why will you kill me?

Arth.
What boots the reason? you must die tonight.

Vio.
Oh, not tonight! good Robert, not tonight!
Kind Arthur, courteous Arthur, not tonight!

Arth.
This hour, this moment.

Vio.
Oh, a moment spare me!
What have I done?

Arth.
What did the Roman matron
When the base tyrant shamed her? Ha! are you noble?

Vio.
Where's Ethel, who did tell me that to dream of it
Was sin beyond redemption. He speaks truth.

Arth.
He is the damned'st slave!

Vio.
O bitter villains!
When you were traitors merely, I wept for you
More tears than you were worth; now I perceive
You are but hardened ruffians. Well, despatch.
I do not fear to look on death. O brothers!
When the great King sits on his awful throne,
What will you plead? All the vast judgment-crowd
Shall shrink when they behold your crimson hands,
Wet with a sister's blood, held up for mercy
In vain, as mine are now.

Arth.
Prepare yourself.

Vio.
Let me retire into my chamber here,
And pray before I die; so much your rage
May yet grant to a sister.

Arth.
Well, be swift.
You will not seek to escape?

Vio.
Oh, no! I will not.
God pity me! for I am innocent.

[Exit.
Robt.
God pity me! she said, God pity me!
Sweet Arthur, I have loved you tenderly
Since we were nothing higher than our swords,
And of my joys made common harvest with you,
And carried half your sorrows. Once, remember it,
When the fierce bear had got you in his gripe,
I thrust my arm into the monster's jaws
And stabbed him with my knife. This is the mark;
I swear, this is the mark.

Arth.
Well I remember it.

Robt.
Do you indeed? And many a time in battle
I have stepped in between an imminent sword
And your dear life. Do you remember this too?
Why, then, I see you have a grateful heart,
And kind affection hath her mood in you.
Now, then, repay the good that I have done you
More than a thousandfold told thousand times.
Let me lie here upon the earless earth,
And torture up my eyes, and seal my hearing,
And go you in alone and do the deed.
Joy of my soul, sweet Arthur, will you not?
She loved me most. Christ! I remember her
A little earnest child, whose secret lips
Would steal to kiss my hand. I cannot do it! [Throwing himself on the ground.
[Exit Arthur into the inner room.


Robt.
He is gone in to do it. O just God!
What torments are laid up for us hereafter!
Hark! she will cry soon.—Will it never come?
Let him be quick, not cruel. Re-enter Arthur.

Is she dead?
O damned murderer!

Arth.
Let's fly from hence.

Robt.
Murderers and fratricides! The damned will start,
When we with bloody swords break into hell!

Arth.
Rise up, I say!

Robt.
My ears drank up her voice
When she did cry for mercy, yet I heard it not.
There is no devil in the waste of hell
But would have melted when she cried for mercy.

Arth.
For God's sake, come away!

[Pulls him; Robert strikes him.
Robt.
Stand off, you devil!
I am not damned yet.

Arth.
Is he mad indeed?
Hush! I hear footsteps in the corridor.
Be still as death.

[Robert rises; they listen.
Robt.
Ay, death is still indeed.

Arth.
Hark! they draw near; no whisper!

[They listen.
Robt.
Oh, have mercy!
She moves in the inner room.

[Knocking.
Ethel.
(outside.)
Who speaks within there?

Arth.
Be ready for a rush.

Eth.
Violenzia!

Robt.
Hark! she will answer. I can bear no more.
[Knocking.
Come in, I say. Why do you beat the door?
Come in, and see two pale-faced fratricides
Shaking their palsied swords.

Enter Ethel and Soldiers; they rush on Robert and Arthur, and secure them.
Eth.
O bloody-hearted brothers! what have you done?

[Ethel goes in, and returns with the body of Violenzia, which he lays on the stage, and stands looking at it.
Robt.
Let me look on her.
O God! that this thing were to do again!

Ol.
(to Arth..
This monster! Do you not repent?

Arth.
Repent!
Let those that have let opportunity
Slip through their hands repent; I cannot do it.

Ol.
Cold-hearted wretch!

Arth.
Ay, cold. And yet I'll tell thee,
Could I have stretched my arm into the past,
And undone that thing which hath once been done,
She should have lived a spotless maid again,—
Ay, though my soul were made a thousand souls,
And each one damned for ever. Well, what matter?

Eth.
Take them away to present execution,
And bring back word to me when they are dead.

Arth.
Lean on me, Robert.

Robt.
Pah! you smell of blood.

Arth.
Well! well! well!

First Sol.
He cared but little for her.

Sec. Sol.
Not a whit.

[Exeunt Olave and Soldiers conducting Robert and Arthur.
Eth.
He did not care for her! no, not a whit!
I did not love thee, Violenzia!
Be it so! be it so! be it so!
I can bear it—I can bear it—I can bear it.
Being dead, I now may kiss thee, may I not?
Cold angel, the last time I touched those lips—
Have done! Look down, you heavenly arbitrators;
Be not harsh with me, if my heart should burst
Because a girl is dead. Nay, I can bear it.
I do not fling myself upon the ground,
And drown the thirsty earth with rainy tears;
I do not tear my hair, or beat my breast,
Or heave my labouring heart from its foundations.
I can be patient. See, my God, she bleeds!
Is there no more to bear! Oh, no, not thus.
I do not tax, high Heaven, thy great designs,
No, nor abate my faith a single jot.
Why, this is mercy; do I cavil at it?
She is in heaven by this, where angels flatter her,
And soothe her with white hands; I would not have her
Alive for all the world. Oh, she is dead!
Her beauty was the rapture of my eye,
And her affection was the corner-stone
Of all my reared existence. That was long ago;
Chaste marriage-joys, the faces of young children,
And all the sweet felicities of home—
These are old dreams, and long since vanished.
Soul-softening memory, fly! Take up, O heart!
Peace is for angels, and we mortal labourers
Must die in harness; I am content, great Father,
And kiss thy tender hand.
Smil'st thou, pale innocent? Was death so kind to thee,
That came in guise so barbarous? Come, dear burden,
I must not leave thee here.

[Exit, bearing Violenzia into the inner room.