University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

Gloster, Daraxa, Theald, Edward, Eleonora born in by her Attendants on a Couch.
Eleonora,
entering.

Edward.
That Sun is Witness of our matchless Woes,
Is Witness of our Innocence—Alas!
What have we done to merit this Disaster?

Eleonora.
O Earth! O genial Roofs! O the dear Coast
Of Albion's Isle! which I no more shall see!—

Edward.
Nay, yield not to thy Weakness, Eleonora!
Sustain thyself a little, nor desert me!
Th'all-ruling Goodness may relieve us still.

Eleonora.
Edward! I tremble! Terror seizes on me!
Thro' the rent Veil of this surrounding Sky,
I had a Glimpse, I saw th'eternal! World.
They call, they urge me hence—Yes, I obey.
But O forgive me, Heaven! if 'tis with Pain,
With Agonies, I tear my Soul from His!

Edward.
Heavens! what I suffer!—How thy plaintive Voice
Shoots Anguish thro' my Soul!

Eleonora.
Some Power unseen—
Thy Hand, my Edward—some dark Power unseen
Is dragging me away—O yet a little,
Stern Tyrant, spare me!—Ah! how shall I leave
My weeping Friends, my Husband and my Children?

Edward.
Unhappy Friends! O greatly wretched Husband!
And O poor careless Orphans, who not feel
The Depth of your Misfortune!

Eleonora.
Lay me down;
Soft, lay me down—my Powers are all dissolv'd—
A little forward bend me—Oh!

Edward.
O God!
How that soft Frame is torn with cruel Pangs!
Pangs robb'd from me!

Eleonora.
'Tis thence they borrow Ease—
My Children! O my Children! you no more
Have now a Mother; now, alas! no more
You have a Mother, O my hapless Children!

Edward.
What do I hear! What desolating Words
Are these? more bitter than a thousand Deaths!
Death to my Soul! Call up thy failing Spirit,
And leave me not to Misery and Ruin!

Eleonora.
Edward, I feel an Interval of Ease;
And, ere I die, have something to impart
That will relieve my Sufferings.

Edward.
Speak, my Soul!
Speak thy Desire: I live but to fulfil it.

Eleonora.
Thou seest in what a hopeless State I lie,
I who this Morning rose in Height of Youth,
High-blooming, promis'd many happy Years.
I die for Thee, I self-devoted die.
Think not, from This, that I repent my Vow;
Or that, with little Vanity, I boast it:
No; what I did from unrepenting Love
I chearful did, from Love that knows no Fear,
No Pain, no weak Remission of its Ardor.
And what, alas! what was it but the Dictate
Of Honour and of Duty: nay, 'twas selfish,
To save me from unsufferable Pain,
From dragging here a wretched Life without Thee.
Two Fears yet stand betwixt my Soul and Peace.
One is for Thee, lest thou disturb my Grave
With Tears of wild Despair. Grieve not like Those
Who have no Hope. We yet shall meet again;
We still are in a kind Creator's Hand;
Eternal Goodness reigns. Besides, this Parting,
This Parting, Edward, must have come at last,
When Years of Friendship had, perhaps, exalted
Our Love, if That can be, to keener Anguish.
Think what thy Station, what thy Fame demand;
Nor yield thy Virtue even to worthy Passions.
My other Care—my other Care is idle—
From That thy equal Tenderness with mine,
Thy Love and Generosity secure me.
Our Children—

Edward.
Yes, I penetrate thy Fear.
But hear me, dying Sweetness! On this Hand,
This cold pale Hand I vow, our Children never,
Shall never call another by the Name
Sacred to Thee; my Eleonora's Children
Shall never feel the hateful Power thou fear'st.
As one in Life, so Death cannot divide us.
Nor high Descent, nor Beauty, nought that Woman,
In her unbounded Vanity of Heart,
Can wish, shall ever tempt my Faith from Thee.
Shall ever, said I? Piteous Boast indeed!
O nothing can!—I should be gross of Heart,
Tasteless and dull as Earth, to think with Patience,
Without Abhorrence, of a second Hymen.
Where can I find such Beauty? Where such Grace,
The Soul of Beauty? where such winning Charms?
Where such a soft Divinity of Goodness?
Such Faith? such Love? such Tenderness unequal'd?
Such all that Heaven could give—to make me wretched!
Talk not of Comfort—Into what a Gulph
A lone Abyss of Misery I fall,
The Moment that I lose Thee—Oh! I know not!
I dare not think!—But these unhappy Orphans—
Ah the dire Cause that makes it double Duty—
Shall now be doubly mine to shelter them,
These Pledges of our Love, I will attempt
To brave the Horrors of loath'd Life without Thee.

Eleonora.
Enough! it is enough! On this Condition
Receive them from my Hands.

Edward.
Dear Hands! dear Gift!
Dear, precious, dying, miserable Gift!
With Transport once receiv'd, but now with Anguish!

Eleonora.
I yet should live, my Children—and I die.

Edward.
How truly lost! what shall I be without Thee!

Eleonora.
All-soft'ning Time will heal thy Woes. The Dead
Soon leave the Passions of the Living free.

Edward.
Detested Life!—O take me, take me with Thee!

Eleonora.
My single Death, O Grave, may well suffice.

Edward.
Severe mysterious Heaven! that This should be!

Eleonora.
What darksome Ways I tread!—O Sun!—O Earth!

Edward.
Stay, cruel, stay!—Thou leav'st me, Eleonora!

Eleonora.
Ah! the strong Hand of Iron Fate compels me!

Edward.
Raise raise, my Eleonora, thy sweet Eyes,
Nor quit thy Children!

Eleonora.
With what Pain I quit them!
Well then—receive my last Adieu—

Edward.
Again,
O yet again behold them!

Eleonora.
Oh!—'Tis Darkness—
A deadly Weight—

Edward.
Thou leav'st me then for ever!—

Eleonora.
Where am I?—Ah!—a Tenant still to Pain.
The quivering Flame of Life leaps up a little.
Meantime, my Edward, 'tis my last Request,
That Thou wouldst leave me, while I yet enjoy
A parting Gleam of Thought—Leave me to Heaven!—
Gloster—farewel—Be careful of the Prince—
Attend him hence—and double now thy Friendship!

Edward.
Barbarian! off!—Ah! whither would'st thou drag me!

Gloster.
My Lord, in Pity to the Princess—

Edward.
Oh!

Eleonora.
Farewel! farewel!—What must be—must be, Edward!

Edward.
O Word of Horror!—Can I?—No! I cannot!
There, take me, lead me, hurl me to Perdition!—