University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Freeman's House.
Charlotte sleeping, and Young Freeman by her.
Y. Freeman.
If there are ministers of heav'n to guard
The innocent, and virtue is their care,
Here let them take their charge:
From your cœlestial citadels descend,
And from her seat of thought
Drive ev'ry image of affliction; there
Let no appearances admittance gain
But what are fruitful of delight; to her mind's eye
Shew the fair prospect of our future loves;
And let no traces of her former griefs
Be lurking there; but let her wake to joy.
She smiles; and on her lips a thousand beautys sit.
(He kisses her.
Was ever kiss so sweet!

Charlotte.
My Freeman and my father hand in hand!
Then they are friends.
Alas! where am I, or where have I been?

Y. Freeman.
You're with your husband, you're with him to whom
You've plighted everlasting truth and love,
With him who ne'er can entertain a wish
That is repugnant to your own desires.

Charlotte.
O! what delusive visions round me play'd,
Which plac'd before my eyes my loving father!
My slumbers flatter'd me with happyness;
They clos'd my senses, which were tir'd with sorrow,
And plac'd before me images of joy;
But, now awak'd from the fallacious dream,
I find myself again a fatherless child,
Left with my weeping mother, to bemoan
A parent murder'd by my husband's sire.

Y. Freeman.
Soul of my soul, wound not my ears and heart
With your reflections on my injur'd father:
I have been with him,
And have exhausted almost all my tears
Over his sufferings: he's innocent,
Tho strong the evidence against him;
And if he dys, he dys for an offence
Which he cou'd ne'er commit:
But what his fate is we shall know 'e're-long.

Charlotte.
If he is innocent, forbid it, heav'n,
That he shou'd suffer more:
But, innocent or not, so strong I find
Is the affection of my heart to Freeman,
I wou'd endeavour, if I survive this shock, to admit
of joy,
That I may be the cause of joy to you.

Y. Freeman.
Then all the study of my days to come
Shall be to grow superior in my love:
Yes, I will stretch invention to contrive
Variety of pleasures for my bride;
For ev'ry day shall, like the bridal day,
Witness to my extravagance of fondness.

SCENE II.

Mrs. Freeman enters.
Mrs. Freeman.
If I've offended, if my guilt is great,
The measure of my suff'rings sure is full.

Y. Freeman.
Well have I stood the tempest yet;
But much I dread the bolt that's coming now.

Mrs. Freeman.
Hot as it is, you must receive it—

Y. Freeman.
O! stay;
And if my father's dead, or soon to dy,
Suspend a while the terrible account,
That I may put the choicest armour on
That reason can afford; for much I fear,
Tho lay'd on Charlotte's breast, and prop'd by love,
The words which bring the tydings of his death
Will, like the ball from an unerring hand
That stops the flying dove, lay me as breathless down.

Charlotte.
Avert it, heav'n, whate'er it is that may
Affect my husband's life, or health; and blast
His wife with ruin, so you save but him.

Y. Freeman.
Thou angel, O! thou goddess of my fate,
You've offer'd to lay down too vast a price
For such a life as mine.
Did ever marry'd state begin like this!
Yet, I will live, if I can live, for thee.

Mrs. Freeman.
My dearest son,
Long may you live, and weather thro the storm;
And may your joys be many,
And lasting all, when I am lay'd in dust:
You've bus'ness here with life, but I have none.

Y. Freeman.
O! Weldon! O! my friend!
Where's the assistance that you promis'd me?

Mrs. Freeman.
The melancholly news which now I bring
Relate not to your father.
The virtuous matron's dead; the weight of grief
Pressing too fast upon her
Has stop'd her springs of life; and she's no more.

Y. Freeman.
Who is no more?

Mrs. Freeman.
Your Charlotte's mother.

(Charlotte faints.
Y. Freeman.
She sinks, she faints; and if the angel's fled
To her original heaven,
I've nothing more to manage here on earth.
(Turning to Mrs. Freeman.
This is a tale you shou'd have told to me,

That at a proper season, and with due preparation, it
might have reach'd her ear.—

O! Charlotte! O! my wife! hear, hear, the voice
Of him that calls you back to life, to love.—
Her breast is cold, her eyes have loss'd their lustre;
But her breath's sweeter than the Syrian rose.
O! charm me with the music of thy voice!—
She breathes; and on her lips carnations bloom;
And her eyes cheer me like the morning sun.

Charlotte.
Who calls me back to life, to wretchedness?

Y. Freeman.
To life, my soul, and love. The greatest shock
That you cou'd dread is over;
And, after such a black and dismal storm,
The face of heav'n must soon begin to clear.

Charlotte.
Mine is no common case, no vulgar misery:
A loving father, and the tenderest mother
That ever child was bless'd with, gone, and for ever loss'd!
Who, not divested of humanity,
Can see my woes with an unpitying eye?
And what daughter,
That has a sense of duty and of love,
Can think of joy,
Or can, in my condition, think of life?
Come death,
O! come, thou friendly everlasting sleep,
And close my eyes in night that knows no dawn.

Y. Freeman.
Perish a thousand worlds rather than you
Shou'd give
Those scarcely-tasted beautys to the grave!
'Tis virtue now to live,
To save that life which all depends on thine.
You're upon duty now, to which
By nature and by providence you're bound;
Your duty is to strive to live for me;
All the rich treasure of your love is mine:
The harder your duty is,
The greater is your virtue to obey.

Charlotte.
If I can live, I need not strive to love.—
O! Freeman, take me to your honest heart;
And, if I keep the full possession there,
Life will be worth my care.
Great is the present illness of my mind;
And you alone must my physician be:
Tho strong the pains which have besieg'd me round,
Your love must be the cure of all my woes.

Y. Freeman.

SCENE III.

The Scene changes.
The Court sitting, the Judge, the Jury, Witnesses, Freeman senr. at the bar, and Weldon foreman of the Jury.
Judge.
Ye hear the charge against him.
Seven witnesses of reputation here
Swear that they found him striding o'er the dead,
And in his hand a staff, whose bloody point
Exactly fill'd the wound, fresh bleeding then:
Add to this circumstance, which seems to me
No less than demonstration of his guilt,
The long dissention which has been betwixt them.
From what we've hear'd we must our judgement pass;
In mine he's guilty; but the sentence rests
In you
The arbitrators of his life or death:
You, who are foremost of the jury, speak.

Weldon.
He's innocent.

Judge.
Is that the voice of all?

Weldon.
I speak the voice of all.

Judge.
Now, by the sacred majesty of heav'n,
That sees and judges all, the blood of him,
Our fellow subject, that was foully murder'd,
Crys loud for justice; blood for blood repay:
In him the king, his wife, and only child,
Have loss'd a subject, husband, and a father:
The king, his wife, and child, of you demand
That justice shou'd be executed here.
Think ye the poor unhappy man that fell,
Because he wanted riches, has no friend?
Yes, he shall find a friend, as well as he
Whose wealth perhaps procur'd him friends in you.

Weldon.
Hear, me rash judge; nor stigmatise the names
Of such as scorn a bribe as much as you.
Give me your promise that his life's secure,
And I'll produce in court the man that kill'd him;
Nor do I ask that promise but on terms
Which you may grant with honour.
If it appears that he who kill'd him did it
Neither in wrath, nor with his will's consent,
But in his own defence, your promise stands.

Judge.
I freely give it; and be heaven's high judge
My witness.

Weldon.
I am the man.

Judge.
Bold and intrepid!—Quick proceed to ease
Th' astonish'd court, that's full of expectation.

Weldon.
Behold in me
The man that kill'd him, but no murderer.

Judge.
Now to the fact.

Weldon.
Tho my mind is shock'd
At the remembrance of the fatal deed,
And gladly wou'd avoid th' unpleasing tale,
Yet, in regard to truth and my fair name,
I will begin.—Early in the morning,
As my custom is, I walk'd o'er Briar's grounds,
And met him unexpected in my way:
I took occasion then to talk to him
Of an account that has been long betwixt us:
As our dispute grew high, I thought he us'd
A language too ingrateful to the man
Who had been a patient creditor so long:
Indeed he did provoke me, by his ungentle usage,
To treat him with more warmth than ever yet
I treated any man,
And to reproach him with severity:
Th' unhappy man, impatient of rebuke,
With all the force of his uplifted arm,
Struck on my temples with an oaken staff:
With my superior strength the stick I wrested from him,
And, smarting with the blow, drove at his side;
When suddenly he fell, and with a groan
Cry'd, I've deserv'd my death, and spoke no more:
Astonish'd at the blood which flow'd from him,
I view'd the staff; at the small end of which
Was a sharp iron spike, which had before
Escap'd my eye.
I look'd around; and seeing no one near,
I walk'd away,
And sighing thought the poor illfated man
Had too severely pay'd the debt he ow'd me.
My sorrows with my story so encrease,
I beg a respite here.—My friend can best
Relate what happen'd next,
When, walking o'er the field, he found him dead.

Judge.
Th' almighty judge knows how my soul rejoices
At this our clearing of the innocent.
Take up the thread of this surprising tale;
(To Freeman senr.
And baulk not our attention with delay.

Freeman senr.
Gay and as joyful as the sun I went
To ask th' unhappy man, that's dead, to come
To my son's wedding feast; but, as I cross'd
The field, I saw him lying on the ground:
Then down I lay'd my staff to raise him up;
But, to my vast surprise, I found him dead:
Griev'd and confus'd, scarce knowing what I did,
Instead of my own staff, I took up his:
These neighbours passing by, and seeing us
In this condition, seiz'd me as his murderer:
They hurry'd me before a magistrate,
And then to jail.—Weldon, my worthy friend,
As he best knows
What follow'd, he can best pursue the tale.

Judge.
In conscious virtue bold, as you begun,
Conclude, in your own innocence secure.

(To Weldon.
Weldon.
From the first moment that I saw him seiz'd,
I was resolv'd to rescue him from death,

E'en if I dy'd myself.—The tryal being near, my
first endeavours were to be of the jury: how in that
office I've discharg'd my trust, ye've seen.

Judge.