University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Ismena's Apartment.
Enter Elmerick running to embrace her.
Elm.
Thou hast too long been absent, my Ismena!
A thousand anxious cares have fill'd my heart
Since I beheld thee last. But thou art found,
Who ne'er appear'd to my desiring eyes
But peace and comfort and delight came with thee.
O take me to thy arms, and quite extinguish
The memory of pain.

Ism.
O misery!
(refusing to embrace him.)
Unequal'd misery! I am excluded
For ever from those arms.

Elm.
All-gracious Heaven!
What mean these broken thoughts, this lab'ring anguish,
My soul, thou sum of all my joys, my wife!

Ism.
Thou hast no wife.

Elm.
Distraction!

Ism.
I'm a wretch
Without a name, and fain would quit my being.

Elm.
Protect me, Heaven! Ismena! what dire thought
Shakes thy sweet soul with such tempestuous agony?
What ill so sudden, since we parted last,
Preventing even my fears, has burst upon thee?
Say, tell me—

Ism.
No, I cannot, dare not tell you:—
You cannot bear it. Though I ne'er conceal'd
A thought before, I must be silent now.

Elm.
What can this mean? And yet I dread to know—
Perhaps the envious Queen has wrong'd my truth,
Can you suspect my love?

Ism.
You love too well:
O that 'twere in your power to love me less!

Elm.
Nay, then I'm lost indeed—Pronounce my doom;
But let me hear it folded in thy arms.

Ism.
Avoid me, fly, and think of me no more.

Elm.
What! shun my arms, Ismena!

Ism.
There's my misery,
I must for ever shun 'em—Now, my Father,
Where is your prudence? Must I seem a monster,
Ungrateful, false to Elmerick; or bring
—Detested thought—pollution to his arms?

Elm.
Pollution! madness!

Ism.
I have been betray'd,
Basely betray'd to infamy and ruin,
Render'd unworthy of thy chaste embraces,
That execrable fiend, that monster Conrade
Has robb'd me of my honour.

Elm.
Hear me, Heaven!
Let not this whirlwind of overwhelming passion
Tear up my being—Let me live whole ages
Though raging with despair, rather than die
And leave her unreveng'd.

Ism.
Had not religion
Withheld my hand, whose law forbids self-murder,
(That short and easy cure for shame and anguish)
These sorrows ne'er had reach'd you.

Elm.
Talk not thus,
Talk not of dying; thou art innocent,
Thy mind unstain'd; thy wrongs shall be reveng'd,
And thou still bless my days.

Ism.
It cannot be:
My power to bless is lost. I am the blot,
The only blot of Elmerick's fair honour.—
O! why was it committed to the charge
Of one so heedless, so improvident,
Guardian unworthy of a trust so noble.

Elm.
O my Ismena!

Ism.
O my dearest Lord!
Alas you weep—I cannot bear your tears,
They melt my firmest purpose—but Farewell—
One last embrace, as on a dying friend,
It will not stain your glory to bestow
On your undone Ismena—

Elm.
To my bosom
With tenderer fondness did I never press thee.
Here rest, my love, a while, and lose thy woes.

Ism.
The greatness of my woes will make 'em short:
I feel my vital powers decay apace.
To part with thee, was all that e'er appear'd
Dreadful to me in death—that's past already—
And all to come is ease and soft repose.
When I'm no more, remember, Elmerick,
My reverend Father; comfort and support him
The best you can: My loss will touch him nearly.
I see you burn for vengeance, but beware;
The cruel, treach'rous Queen conspir'd with Conrade.

Elm.
Alike remote from rashness and from fear,
I'll trace this hellish mystery to its source,
And deal to each, with an inflexible
And equal hand, the portion they deserve:
I'll weigh it as the action of my life
That must give name and value to the whole;
And raise a monument to thee and justice
Shall strike exalted wickedness with terror,
And freeze the boiling blood of future Conrades.
Farewell, be patient, and expect th'event.

(Exeunt.