University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE, the Wood.
Cleone is discovered sitting by her dead child; over whom she hath form'd a little bower of shrubs and branches of trees. She seems very busy in picking the leaves from a bough in her hand.
Cleone
Sings.
Largo Affetuose.
Sweeter than the damask rose
Was his lovely breast;
There, O let me there repose,
Sigh, sigh, and sink to rest.

Did I not love him?—who can say I did not?
My heart was in his bosom, but he tore
It out, and cast it from him—Yet I lov'd—
And he more lovely seem'd to that fond heart,
Than the bright cherub sailing on the skirts
Of yonder cloud, th' inhabitant of Heaven.

Enter Sifroy, Beaufort Sen. Isabella, Glanville, Ragozin, Officers, &c.
Beaufort Sen.
This is the place—O misery! See, my child!
Why, gracious Heaven! why have I liv'd to feel
This dreadful moment?—Soft I pray ye tread—
And let us well observe her speech and action.

Sifroy.
Have I done this!—and do I live!—my heart
Drops blood!—But to thy guidance I will bend,
And in forc'd silence smother killing grief.

Glanville.
[Aside.]
Did'st thou not tell me, villain, she was dead?

Ragozin.
[Aside.]
I was deceiv'd—by Heaven, I thought her so.

Glanville.
[Aside.]
May Hell reward thee.

Beaufort Sen.
Stay—she rises—hush!

Cleone.
Soft! soft! he stirs—
O I have wak'd him—I have wak'd my child!
And when false Glanville knows it, he again
Will murder him.

Beaufort Sen.
Mark that!

Glanville.
And are the words
Of incoherent madness to convict me?

Sifroy.
They are the voice of Heaven, detecting murder!
O villain! thy infernal aim appears.

Cleone.
No, no; all still—As undisturb'd he sleeps
As the stolen infant rock'd in th' Eagle's nest.
I'll call the red-breast, and the nightingale,
Their pious bills once cover'd little babes,
And sung them to repose. O come, sweet birds!
Again pour forth your melancholy notes,
And soothe once more that innocence ye love.

Sifroy.
On that enchanting voice, how my fond heart
Hath hung with rapture!—Now, too deeply pierc'd,
I die upon the sound.
[He advances towards her.
O let me soothe
Thy griefs! and pour into thy wounded mind
The healing balm of tenderness!

Cleone,
frighted and trembling.
Sweet Heaven,
Protect me! O if you pity, save
My infant!—Cast away that bloody steel!
And on my knees I'll kiss the gentle hand,
That spar'd my child!—Glanville shall never know
But we are dead—In this lone wood we'll live,
And I no more will seek my husband's house.
And yet I never wrong'd him! never indeed!

Sifroy.
I know thou did'st not—look upon me, love!
Dost thou not know me? I am thy Sifroy—
Thy husband—Do not break my heart—O speak!
That look will kill me!

Beaufort Sen.
My dear child! O turn—
Look on thy father! am I too forgot?
Is every filial trace in thy poor brain
Defac'd?—She knows us not!—May Heaven, my son
Lend thee its best support! For me—my days
Are few; nor can my sorrow's date be long
Protracted.

Sifroy.
Talk not so! Must I become
The murderer of all I hold most dear?

Cleone.
Yes—yes—a husband once—a father too
I had—but lost, quite lost—deep in my brain
Bury'd they lie—in heaps of rolling sand—
I cannot find them.

Sifroy.
O heart-piercing grief!
How is that fair, that amiable mind,
Disjointed, blasted by the fatal rage
Of one rash hour!—
[She goes to her child, he follows.
O let sweet Pity veil
The horrors of this scene from every eye!
My child! my child! hide, hide me from that sight!

[Turns away.
Cleone.
Stay, stay—for you are good, and will not hurt
My lamb. Alas, you weep—why should you weep?
I am his mother, yet I cannot weep.
Have you more pity than a mother feels?
But I shall weep no more—my heart is cold.

Sifroy,
falling on his knees.
O mitigate thy wrath, good Heaven! Thou know'st
My weakness—lay not on thy creature more
Than he can bear: Restore her, O restore!
But if it must not be—if I am doom'd
To stand a dreadful warning to deter
Frail man from sudden passion—then, great Power,
O take, in mercy take, this wretched life!

[As he rises, Isabella comes forward, and throws herself at his feet.
Isabella.
Hear, hear me, sir!—My very heart is pierc'd!
And my shock'd soul, beneath a load of guilt,
Sinks down in terrors unsupportable.
'Tis Heaven impels me to reveal the crimes
In which, O misery! I have been involv'd—
Protect me, save me from his desperate rage!

[Glanville suddenly pulls out a short dagger, which he had conceal'd in his bosom; and attempts to stab her: Sifroy wrenches it from him.
Beaufort Senior.
Ha! seize the dagger!

Sifroy.
Hold thy murderous hand!

Ragozin
(Aside.)
All is betray'd—for me no safety now,
But sudden flight.

[He endeavours to withdraw.
Sifroy.
Stop—seize—detain that slave!
Th' attempt to fly bespeaks him an accomplice.

[One of the officers seizes him.
Isabella,
to Glanville.
Tremble, O wretch!—Thou see'st that Heaven is just,
Nor suffers even our selves to hide our deeds.
To death I yield—nor hope, nor wish for life—
Permit me to reveal some dreadful truths,
And I shall die content. Thy hapless wife,
Chaste as the purest angel of the sky,
By Glanville is traduc'd—By him betray'd,
Paulet is murder'd—and by his device,
The lovely child. Inveigled by his arts,
And by the flattering hopes of wealth-isnar'd—
Distracting thought! I have destroy'd my soul.

Beaufort Senior.
O why so far from Virtue did'st thou stray,
That to compassionate thy wretched fate,
Almost is criminal!

Beaufort
Senior, to Glanville.
But canst thou bear—
Can thy hard heart sustain this dreadful scene?

Glanville.
I know the worst—and am prepar'd to meet it.
That wretch hath seal'd my death—And had I but
Aveng'd her timorous perfidy—the rest
I'd leave to Fate; and neither should lament
My own, nor pity yours.

Sifroy.
Inhuman savage!
But Justice shall, exert her keenest scourge,
And wake to terror thy unfeeling heart.
Guard them to safe confinement. But O see!
Behold that piteous object!—Her dumb grief
Speaks to my heart unutterable woe!
Horror is in her silence- (he goes to her)
My dear love!
Look, look upon me! Let these tears prevail,
And with thy pity, wake thy reason too.

Cleone.
Again you weep—O had you lost a wife,
As I a husband, you might weep indeed!
Or had you lost so sweet a boy as mine,
'Twould break your heart!

Sifroy.
O misery! her words are pointed steel!
Have I not lost a wife?—lost a sweet boy?
Indeed I have!—My self too murder'd them!

Cleone.
That was unkind—Why did you so?—But soft!
Let no one talk of murder—I was kill'd—
My husband murder'd me—but I forgave him.

Sifroy.
I can sustain no more!—O torture! torture!
Such goodness ruin'd, will distract my soul.

Beaufort Sen.
Collect thy self, and with the humble eye
Of patient Hope, look up to Heaven resign'd.

Sifroy.
Hope! where is hope?—Alas, no hope for me!
On downy pinions, lo! to Heaven she flies—
To realms of bliss—where I must never come!
Terrors are mine—and from the depths below,
Despair looks out, and beckons me to sink!

Beaufort Sen.
O calm thy grief! call reason to thy aid,
Perhaps we yet may save her precious life;
At least delay not, by some gentle means,
To soothe her to return.

Sifroy.
May soft persuasion dwell upon thy lips!
But ah, can tears or arguments avail,
When Reason marks not?

[Enter Beaufort Junior.

SCENE III.

Cleone, Sifroy, Beaufort Sen. Beaufort Jun.
Beaufort Junior.
Where, where is my sister?

Beaufort Senior.
Alas! the melancholy sight will pierce
Thy inmost soul!—But do not yet disturb her.
Distraction o'er her memory hangs a cloud,
That hides us from her.

Sifroy.
My dearest brother! can thy heart receive
The wretch, who robb'd it of a sister's love?

Beaufort Junior.
I do forgive thee all—for O my brother!
Most basely wert thou wrong'd. But Truth is found—
Paulet, tho' wounded, yet escap'd with life.

Sifroy.
Then Heaven is just—But say, O tell me how!

Beaufort Junior.
Thou shalt know all—but stay! my sister—

Cleone,
coming forward.
O who hath done it!—who hath done this deed
Of death?—My child is murder'd—my sweet babe
Bereft of life!—Thou Glanville! thou art he!
O bloody fiend! destroy a child! an infant!—
O wretch, forbear!—See, see the little heart
Bleeds on his dagger's point!
[Looking down to the earth.
But lo! the Furies!—the black fiends of hell
Have seiz'd the Murderer! look! they tear his heart—
That heart which had no pity!—Hark! he strikes—
His eye-balls glare—his teeth together gnash
In bitterness of anguish—While the fiends
Scream in his frighted ear—Thou shalt not murder!

Beaufort Senior.
What dreadful visions terrify her brain?
To interrupt her, must relieve.—Speak to her.

Sifroy.
My dearest love!—Cast but one look upon us!

Cleone,
looking up to heaven.
Is that my infant?—Whither do ye bear
My bleeding babe?—Not yet—O mount not yet,
Ye sons of light, but take me on your wings,
With my sweet innocent—I come! I come!
[Her father and brother take hold of her.
Yet hold! where is my husband—my Sifroy?
Will not he follow?—Will he quite forsake
His poor lost wife?—O tell him I was true!

[Swoons.
Beaufort Senior.
Alas, she faints!—I fear the hand of Death
Is falling on her. Gently bear her up.

Sifroy.
O God! my heart—
My heart-strings break!—Did not her dying words
Dwell on my name? Did not her latest sigh
Breathe tenderness for me?—for me, the wretch,
Whose rash suspicion, whose intemperate rage,
Abandon'd her to shame!—Hah! gracious Heaven!
Does she not move? Does not returning light
Dawn in her feeble eye? Her opening lips
Breathe the sweet hope of life!

Cleone.
Where have I been?
What dreadful dreams have floated in my brain!

Beaufort Senior.
How fares my child?

Cleone.
O faint! exceeding faint!
My father!—My dear father!—Do I wake?
And am I, am I in a father's arms?
My brother too!—O happy!

Beaufort Junior.
My dear sister!

Sifroy.
O transport! rapture! Will my love return
To life? to reason too? Indulgent Heaven!

Cleone.
What sound, what well-known voice is that I hear!
O lift me, raise me to his long-lost arms!
It is my husband! my Sifroy! my love!
Alas, too faint—I never more shall rise.

Sifroy.
O do not wound me, do not pierce my heart
With any thought so dreadful! Hath high Heaven,
Only in mockery given thee to my arms?
Raise up thy head, my love! lean on my breast,
And whisper to my soul thou wilt not die.

Cleone.
How thy sweet accents soothe the pangs of death!
O witness Heaven! thus in thy arms to die,
My faithful love, and spotless truth confirm'd,
Was all my wish!—But where, where is my father?
O let me take his blessing up to Heaven,
And I shall go with confidence!

Beaufort Senior.
My child—
My darling child!—May that pure bliss, just Heaven
Bestows upon departed saints, be thine!

Cleone.
Farewell, my brother! comfort and support
Our father's feeble age—To heal his grief
Will give thy sister's dying moments ease.

Sifroy.
Talk not of death!—We must not, must not part!
Good Heaven! her dying agonies approach!

Cleone.
Death's keenest, bitterest pang is that I feel
For thy surviving woe.—Adieu, my love!
I do entreat thee with my latest sigh,
Restrain thy tears—nor let me grieve to think
Thou feel'st a pain I cannot live to heal.

Sifroy.
Might'st thou but live, how light were every pain
Fate could inflict!

Cleone.
It cannot be!—I faint—
My spirits fail—farewell—receive me, Heaven

[Dies.
Sifroy.
She's gone!—for ever gone!—Those lovely eyes
Are clos'd in death—no more to look on me!
My fate is finish'd—in this tortur'd breast,
Anguish—Remorse—Despair—must ever dwell.

Beaufort Senior.
Offended Power! at length with pitying eyes
Look on our misery l Cut short this thread,
That links my soul too long to wretched life!
And let mankind, taught by his hapless fate,
Learn one great truth, Experience finds too late;
That dreadful ills from rash Resentment flow,
And sudden Passions end in lasting Woe.