University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

SICARDI, VERINO, EUDORA.
VERINO.
“If he be wrong'd!”—hast thou so soon forgot
The debt, thou once hadst virtue to acknowledge?
But 'tis affliction's privilege to speak
What cool reflection will disclaim—for thee,
Thou villian slanderer.

SICARDI.
Indeed, my Lord,
I spake no more than duty bade me utter.

VERINO.
Confusion mar the organs of thy speech
And sense forsake thee for thy vile aspersion!

EUDORA.
Revered Verino, let thy daughter's voice
Soothe the wild tumult of thy troubled soul!
Soon shall we see my injured Lord return,
And clear his honor to the admiring world:
Then let not passion thus distract my father,
But let his heart be still!

VERINO.
Be still, my daughter!
Thy voice, Eudora, would as soon persuade
Our Etna's bursting caverns to be still,
When, in its gulph the fiery tempest swells.
Thou little know'st the niceties of honor;—
Honor! the wealth, the being of a Soldier!
If sharpest arrows pierce the tortured flesh,
'Tis in the power of art to soothe its anguish,
And make the shatter'd fibres join again:
But tenderer honor! if that chance to suffer,
E'en lightly suffer, with malicious joy
Envy will fret the wound, that slander gave,
Increase its pangs, and force it ne'er to close!

SICARDI.
I hope, my Lord, and doubt not, but Lord Raymond
Will make the world confess these strange suspicions
Have done him greatest wrong.

VERINO.
Villain! tis false;
I know what hopes such beings as Sicardi!
Have harbour'd of my son—But hence!—be gone!
Away!—thy sight is painful to my eyes,
And my soul sickens but to hear thy voice:
Hence! and expect my vengeance!

SICARDI.
Know, my Lord,
I am not used to brook such insolence:
But age and grief claim pity more than anger,
And make me pardon, what I else would punish.

(Exit.