University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE, An Apartment belonging to Siward, opening to a wood.
Edwin, Matilda.
Edwin.
Thanks to the noble Siward's gen'rous pity
For the distress'd; once more we meet, Matilda,
But only meet, alas! to mourn our fate,
To feel each others woes, and to be wretched.

Matilda.
Eternal blessings wait on him who thus
Cou'd sweeten sorrow's bitter draught, and make
Captivity a blessing! O, my Edwin!
A few short moments spent with those we love,
Is worth an age of common life.

Edwin.
With thee
Indeed it is; but we are on the verge
Of a dark precipice, and ev'ry step
Is dangerous. If Morcar shou'd return,
And find us here together, we are lost
For ever; thou hast seen, and seen with horror,
The desp'rate rage of his tumultuous soul,
Let us avoid it, let us—

Matilda.
What, my love?
Thou art my guide, protector, guardian, all
I have to boast on earth. O! teach me where
To find some blest asylum for my woes,
And guide my footsteps to the paths of peace.

Edwin.
Let me entreat thee then—

Matilda.
O, speak! thou know'st
I have no will but thine.

Edwin.
Then leave me, leave
This hated roof: I have a friend within,
Who shall conduct thee to the royal camp
In safety; bear this signet to the king,
He will protect thee, and whatever fate
Decrees for me, Matilda may be happy.

Matilda.
O! never, never: Safety dwells with thee,
And thee alone. Without my faithful Edwin,
The peopled city, and the crouded court,
Wou'd be a desart to me. No, my love,
We will not part: The same benignant pow'r
That led thee hither, that, beyond my hopes
Brought my lost Edwin to these arms again,
Will still protect that virtue which it loves.

Edwin.
Did'st thou not tell me, that this very morn
Thou had'st determin'd, as the only means
To shun my brother's love, on sudden flight?

Matilda.
But then I shou'd have fled in search of thee.

Edwin.
Thou winning softness! how shall I reward
Such unexampled tenderness and truth!

Matilda.
By flying with me. Come, my love, lead on,
I'll follow thee to dangers and to death;
Nor perils shall affright, nor labours tire,
When thou art with me.

Edwin.
No: It must not be.

Matilda.
Why? What shou'd keep thee here?

Edwin.
The ties of honour.

Matilda.
And are they stronger than the bonds of love?

Edwin.
To Siward's kind indulgence, well thou know'st,
I owe this little interval of peace,
This transient gleam of happiness with thee;
And shou'd I break my sacred word, his life
Might answer for it; wou'd'st thou have me thus
Repay his kindness? No, my love; I may
Be wretched, but I cannot be ungrateful.

Matilda.
Must thou return then to that hateful prison
When Morcar comes?

Edwin.
I must. O! think when I
Am pent within a loathsome dungeon, who
Shall shelter then thy unprotected virtue?
No Edwin there to succour thee: Who knows
What brutal lust and pow'r may dare to act,
On a deserted, beauteous, friendless woman?
Distracting thought! A monarch's vengeance then
Wou'd come too late; wou'd make me poor amends
For my Matilda's violated charms.

Matilda.
He cannot be so mean, so base of soul,
Or if he shou'd, I have a dagger here
To save me from dishonour.

Edwin.
What! by death?
Dreadful alternative! O! hazard not
Thy precious life, but seize the lucky moment
Which fortune gives us, e'er it be too late.

Matilda.
Urge me no more; already I have felt,
Too deeply felt, the pangs of absence from thee:
Another separation wou'd be worse
Than death, and all its terrors. No, my love;
We are embark'd on a tumultuous sea,
And must abide the fury of the storm.
The waves of angry fortune may o'erwhelm
But shall not part us: We will stem the torrent,
Brave the proud ocean's rage, and gain the harbour
Of peace and happiness—or sink together.

Edwin.
Thou hast foretold the tempest, and behold
It rushes on us.

Enter Morcar and Harold.
Matilda.
Ha! Earl Morcar here!

Morcar.
Harold, I thank thee; thy intelligence
Was but too true.
(turning to Edwin.
Traitor! who set thee free?
They wou'd have 'scap'd my vengeance—false Matilda!
'Tis thus I am rewarded for my love,
My ill-tim'd mercy to a thankless brother.
Back to thy dungeon, slave. Guards, drag him hence,
To prison, and to death.

(to the soldiers.
Edwin.
Or death, or life,
Are equal to me, if I must be torn
From my Matilda. But, whate'er thy purpose,
Be speedy in thy vengeance, nor delay
The cruel work; for know, thy master comes,
William approaches—to revenge my cause.

Morcar.
But not to save thee.

Edwin.
Then farewel, Matilda,
Perhaps for ever—If we meet no more
Thou wilt remember—But I will not doubt
Thy honour, or thy love. I know thy truth.
Know thou wilt act as best becomes thy fate,
Whate'er it be, and worthy of thyself.

Matilda.
Of thee, my Edwin, rather say of thee.
Yes; I will copy well thy bright example;
I'll not disgrace thy love with woman's weakness,
But part without a tear. I will but stay
To tell thy tyrant brother how I hate,
How I despise him, and then follow thee.

Morcar.
I'll hear no more—begone!—away with him.
[Exeunt guards with Edwin.
For thee, Matilda—

Matilda.
What for me remains
I know too well; thy odious love, reproach
Unmerited, and threats which I despise.
Thou think'st I have deceiv'd thee—think so still.
Enjoy thy error. Thou believ'st us guilty;
'Twill make thee happy now—Perchance to find
Us innocent, may be thy punishment hereafter.

Morcar.
Aye, 'twas a proof of innocence to fly,
Thou and thy paramour together.

Matilda.
No;
I scorn a thought so mean. Cou'd I have left
My Edwin, long e'er this I might have been
Beyond the reach of tyranny; beyond
Thy hated pow'r; and safe beneath the wing
Of sacred majesty, in William's care.

Morcar.
In William's care!

Matilda.
Thy conqueror's—for know
The hero comes—to scatter blessings round him,
To heal his country's wounds, chastise rebellion,
And punish false perfidious slaves like thee.

Morcar.
By heav'ns! she braves my wrath, insults my weakness,
And triumphs o'er her slave.

Matilda.
There was a time,
When with an eye of pity, I beheld
Thy hopeless love; when I conceal'd my passion
For the dear idol of my heart, because
I fear'd 'twou'd make thee wretched; but thy rage,
Thy cruel treatment of a guiltless brother,
Has cancell'd all.

Morcar.
Then, mark me: If thou hop'st
For Edwin's freedom, shake off this vile passion;
Yield thy proud heart to him who best deserves it,
And meet me at the altar—Two hours hence
I shall expect thee there—Beyond that time
He may not live to thank thee for thy bounty.

Matilda.
Then let him perish—glut thy tyrant soul
With vengeance: bathe it in a brother's blood.
All ruffian, all barbarian, as thou art,
Thou can'st not murder his immortal fame:
Thou can'st not rob him of Matilda's love.
But know—when he, for whom alone this pulse
Wou'd wish to beat, this lazy blood to flow
Within my veins, when he shall be no more;
Another life shall satiate thy revenge;
Another victim shall attend thy triumph.

Morcar.
Thou talk'st it nobly—'tis the common trick,
The affectation of thy sex to boast
A fancied firmness, which ye never knew;
But with affrighted nature thou wou'd'st shrink
When death approaches.

Matilda.
Put me to the proof.
If thou wou'd'st punish Edwin, know he lives
Within this breast—strike home, and pierce him there.

Morcar.
Imperious woman! thou defy'st my pow'r,
And let it crush thee. If thy country bleeds
In ev'ry vein; is perjur'd Edwin falls,
As soon he shall, a victim to my rage;
Thou art the murd'rer; thou the paricide:
I stand absolv'd; the guilt is all thy own.

Matilda.
If it be guilt to suffer keen reproach,
Pain, persecution, terror, chains and death
For him I love, rather than stain my soul
With foul disloyalty, I am indeed
The guiltiest of my sex, and well deserve
The pangs I feel.

Morcar.
Thou'st driv'n me to the pit
Of black despair, and I will drag thee down
To share the dreadful ruin thou hast made.

Matilda.
I know thy savage purpose; but remember,
The hour approaches when thou shalt repent
This base, unmanly triumph. William comes:
Hear that and tremble, thou unnat'ral brother;
Nor rocks, nor caves shall hide thee from his vengeance;
Inglorious, and unpitied, shalt thou fall,
And after ages shall consign thy name
To endless scorn, and infamy immortal.
[Exit Matilda.

Morcar.
Inexorable judge! I stand condemn'd,
And shall await my doom; but not alone
Or unreveng'd shall Morcar fall—henceforth
I bid adieu to love, and all his train
Of fond delusions—Vengeance! I am thine,
And thine alone: Thou daughter of despair!
Destructive goddess! come, possess my soul
With all thy terrors—Yes; it shall be so.
A few short hours are all that niggard fate
Will deign to spare me; I'll employ 'em well,
For I will croud into the narrow circle
A little age of misery and horror.
Ha! Siward here! what brought thee hither?

Enter Siward.
Siward.
Pity
For the distress'd, I knew thou wert unhappy,
And came where duty call'd, to pour the balm
Of friendship in, and heal thy wounded heart.

Morcar.
O, they have pierc'd too deep; ev'n thou, my friend,
Thou hast betray'd me: was it not unkind
To set my pris'ner free; to let him meet
Matilda, and conspire against my life?

Siward.
Impossible! by heav'n the artful story
He told, so wrought upon my easy soul,
I thought him innocent.

Morcar.
Hast thou not heard—

Siward.
From Harold only an imperfect tale,
So strange I cou'd not credit it.

Morcar.
Alas!
'Tis all too true: I am the veriest slave,
The meanest wretch that e'er was trampled on
By an imperious woman: O, my friend!
My Siward! I have nought on earth but thee:
Shou'd'st thou forsake me in this hour of terror!
But sure thou wilt not.

Siward.
No: What e'er the will
Of wayward fortune may determine for us,
Behold me ready to partake thy fate.
If we must sue for peace, let Siward bear
The olive for thee: if once more we cast
The desp'rate dye of battle, let me perish
By Morcar's side. Come, let us on together;
Shake off this load of unavailing sorrow,
And seek the field; there, if we fall, we fall
With honor: if we rise, we rise to—glory.

Morcar.
Talk not of glory to a wretch like me,
Bereft of ev'ry hope. There was a time
When that enliv'ning call wou'd have awak'd
My active spirit, and this drooping heart
Bounded with joy; but my Matilda's lost:
Revenge alone—

(Enter a messenger to Siward with Letters.
Siward.
From Walstcoff these;
'Tis well—retire.
[Exit messenger.
(Reads)
—How's this? then all is lost.
He writes me here, that William's fame in arms,
Spite of his cruel and oppressive laws,
Hath rais'd him friends in ev'ry part: already
The northern rebels are dispers'd, and thousands
Flock to the royal standard. To resist
Were madness.

Morcar.
And to yield were cowardice
More shameful—

Siward.
What must we resolve on?

Morcar.
Death:
The wretches only hope, the wish'd—for end
Of ev'ry care, but I wou'd meet him cloath'd
In all his terrors, with his reeking spear,
Dipt in the blood of an ungrateful mistress;
And a false happy rival: Then, my Siward,
Shalt thou behold me welcome the kind stroke,
And smile in agony.

Siward.
Unhappy youth!
The storm beats hard upon thee; but our fate
Will soon be fixt, for William comes to-morrow.

Morcar.
To-morrow! ha! then something must be done,
And quickly too. If William comes, he comes
To triumph over us: then, my Siward, who
Shall punish Edwin? who—shall wed Matilda?
I cannot bear it—If thou lov'st me, Siward;
For now I mean to try thy virtue; swear
By all the pow'rs that wait on injur'd honor,
What e'er my anxious soul requests of thee,
Thou'lt not refuse it.

Siward.
By the hallow'd flame
Of sacred friendship, that within this breast,
Since the first hour I seal'd thee for my own,
With unremitted ardor still hath glow'd,
I will not—Speak, my Morcar, here I swear
To aid thy purpose.

Morcar.
'Tis enough; and now
Come near and mark me: Thou command'st the tow'r
Where Edwin is confin'd.

Siward.
I do.

Morcar.
Methinks
It were an easy task—you understand me—
Justice is slow, and—William comes to-morrow.
Thy friendly hand—

Siward.
My lord!—

Morcar.
Thou trembl'st—Well another time, my Siward,
We'll talk on't—shall we not? Thou mean'st to do
As thou hast promis'd?

Siward.
Certainly.

Morcar.
Then speak,
And do not trifle with me.

Siward.
Sure my lord,
You cannot mean to—

Morcar.
Is he not a villain?

Siward.
I fear he may be so.

Morcar.
A hypocrite.

Siward.
He hath, perhaps, deceiv'd you, and deserves—

Morcar.
To perish.

Siward.
No; to suffer, not to die;
Or, if to perish, not by Morcar's hand,
Or Siward's—O! 'tis horrible to shed
A brother's blood—

Morcar.
A rival's.

Siward.
Nature—

Morcar.
Love—

Siward.
Humanity—

Morcar.
Matilda—

Siward
. (aside.)
Gracious heav'n!
That passion thus should root up ev'ry sense
Of good and evil in the heart of man,
And change him to—a Monster.

Morcar.
Hence! away,
And leave me—From this moment I will herd
With the wild savage in yon leafless desart,
Nor trust to friendship—but another hand—

Siward
. (musing.)
Ha! that alarms me—then it must be so;
And yet how far—

Morcar.
You pause.

Siward.
I am resolv'd.

Morcar.
On what?

Siward.
To serve, to honour, to—obey you.
Edwin shall ne'er disturb thy peace again.

Morcar.
O glorious instance of exalted friendship!
My other self, my best, my dear-lov'd Siward—
Conscience! thou busy monitor, away
And leave me—Siward, when shall it be done?
To night, my Siward, shall it not?

Siward.
Or never.

Morcar.
Let me but see the proud Matilda weep;
Let me but hear the music of her groans
And sate my soul with vengeance—For the rest
'Tis equal all. But tell me, Siward, say,
How shall I know the bloody moment? What,
Shall be the welcome signal?

Siward.
When thou hear'st
The solemn curfeu sound, conclude
The business done—Farewell. When I return
With tears of joy thou shalt my zeal commend,
And own that Siward was indeed thy friend.