 | Percy |  |
52
ACT IV.
SCENE, The Hall.Enter Douglas, his sword drawn and bloody in one hand, in the other a letter. Harcourt wounded.
Douglas.
Traytor no more. This letter shews thy office.
Twice hast thou robb'd me of my dear revenge.
I took thee for thy leader.—Thy base blood
Wou'd stain the noble temper of my sword,
But as the pander to thy master's lust,
Thou justly fall'st by a wrong'd husband's hand.
Harcourt.
Thy wise is innocent.
Douglas.
Take him away.
Harcourt.
Percy, revenge my fall!
[Guards bear Harcourt in.
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Now for the letter!
He begs once more to see her.—so 'tis plain
They have already met!—but to the rest—
Reads,
“In vain you wish me to restore the scarf,
Dear pledge of love, while I have life I'll wear it,
'Tis next my heart; no pow'r shall force it thence,
Whene'er you see it in another's hand
Conclude me dead.”—My curses on them both!
How tamely I peruse my shame! But thus,
Thus, let me tear the guilty characters
Which register my infamy. And thus,
Thus wou'd I scatter to the winds of heav'n,
The vile complotters of my foul dishonour.
[Tears the letter in the utmost agitation.
Enter Edric.
Edric.
My lord—
Douglas.
(in the utmost fury, not seeing Edric)
The scarf!
Edric.
Lord Douglas.
Douglas.
(still not hearing him)
Yes, the scarf!
Percy, I thank thee for the glorious thought!
I'll cherish it; 'twill sweeten all my pangs,
And add a higher relish to revenge!
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My lord!
Douglas.
How, Edric here?
Edric.
What new distress?
Douglas.
Dost thou expect I shou'd recount my shame?
Dwell on each circumstance of my disgrace,
And swell my infamy into a tale?
Rage will not let me—But—my wife is false.
Edric.
Art thou convinc'd?
Douglas.
The chronicles of hell
Cannot produce a falser.—But what news
Of her curs'd paramour?
Edric.
He has escap'd.
Douglas.
Hast thou examin'd ev'ry avenue?
Each spot? The grove? the bower, her fav'rite haunt?
Edric.
I've search'd them all.
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He shall be yet pursu'd.
Set guards at every gate—Let none depart,
Or gain admittance here without my knowledge.
Edric.
What can their purpose be?
Douglas.
Is it not clear?
Harcourt has rais'd his arm against my life?
He fail'd; the blow is now reserv'd for Percy;
Then with his sword fresh reeking from my heart,
He'll revel with that wanton o'er my tomb;
Nor will he bring her ought she'll hold so dear,
As the curs'd hand with which he slew her husband.
But he shall die! I'll drown my rage in blood,
Which I will offer as a rich libation,
On thy infernal altar, black Revenge!
[Exeunt.
SCENE changes to the Garden.
Enter Elwina.
Elwina.
Each avenue is so beset with guards,
And lynx-ey'd Jealousy so broad awake,
He cannot pass unseen. Protect him heav'n!
Enter Birtha.
My Birtha, is he safe? Has he escap'd?
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I know not. I dispatch'd young Harcourt to him,
To bid him quit the Castle, as you order'd,
Restore the scarf, and never see you more.
But how the hard injunction was receiv'd,
Or what has happen'd since, I'm yet to learn.
Elwina.
O when shall I be eas'd of all my cares,
And in the quiet bosom of the grave
Lay down this weary head?—I'm sick at heart!
Shou'd Douglas intercept his flight?
Birtha.
Be calm;
Douglas this very moment left the Castle,
With seeming peace.
Elwina.
Ah, then indeed there's danger!
Birtha, whene'er Suspicion feigns to sleep,
'Tis but to make its careless prey secure.
Birtha.
Shou'd Percy once again entreat to see thee,
'Twere best admit him; from thy lips alone,
He will submit to hear his final doom
Of everlasting exile.
Elwina.
Birtha, no:
If honour wou'd allow the wife of Douglas
To meet his rival, yet I durst not do it.
Percy! too much this rebel heart is thine:
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I cannot hate—but I will banish thee.
Inexorable duty, O forgive,
If I can do no more!
Birtha.
If he remains,
As I suspect, within the castle walls,
'Twere best I sought him out.
Elwina.
Then tell him, Birtha,
But Oh! with gentleness, with mercy tell him,
That we must never, never meet again.
The purport of thy tale must be severe,
But let thy tenderness embalm the wound
My virtue gives. O soften his despair;
But say—we meet no more.
Enter Percy.
Rash man, he's here!
(She attempts to go, he seizes her hand.)
Percy.
I will be heard; nay, fly not; I will speak;
Lost as I am, I will not be denied
The mournful consolation to complain.
Elwina.
Percy, I charge thee, leave me.
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Tyrant, no:
I blush at my obedience, blush to think
I left thee here alone, to brave the danger
I now return to share.
Elwina.
That danger's past:
Douglas was soon appeas'd; he nothing knows
Then leave me I conjure thee, nor again
Endanger my repose. Yet, e'er thou goest,
Restore the scarf.
Percy.
Unkind Elwina, never.
'Tis all that's left me of my buried joys,
All, which reminds me that I once was happy.
My letter told thee I wou'd ne'er restore it.
Elwina.
Letter? what letter?
Percy.
That I sent by Harcourt.
Elwina.
Which I have ne'er receiv'd. Douglas perhaps—
Who knows?
Birtha.
Harcourt, t'elude his watchfulness,
Might prudently retire.
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Grant heav'n it prove so!
(Elwina going, Percy holds her.)
Percy.
Hear me, Elwina, the most savage honour
Forbids not that poor grace.
Elwina.
It bids me fly thee.
Percy.
Then e'er thou go'st, if we indeed must part,
To sooth the horrors of eternal exile,
Say but—thou pity'st me!
Elwina.
(weeps.)
O Percy—pity thee!
Imperious honour!—surely I may pity him.
Yet, wherefore pity? no, I envy thee:
For thou hast still the liberty to weep,
In thee 'twill be no crime; thy tears are guiltless,
For they infringe no duty, stain no honour,
And blot no vow: But mine are criminal,
Are drops of shame which wash the cheek of guilt,
And every tear I shed dishonours Douglas.
Percy.
I swear my jealous love e'en grudges thee
Thy sad pre-eminence in wretchedness.
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Rouse, rouse, my slumb'ring virtue! Percy, hear me.
Heav'n, when it gives such high-wrought souls as thine,
Still gives as great occasions to exert them.
If thou wast form'd so noble, great, and gen'rous,
'Twas to surmount the passions which enslave
The gross of humankind.—Then think, O think,
She, whom thou once didst love, is now another's.
Percy.
Go on—and tell me that that other's Douglas.
Elwina.
Whate'er his name, he claims respect from me:
His honour's in my keeping, and I hold
The trust so pure, its sanctity is hurt,
Ev'n by thy presence.
Percy.
Thou again hast conquer'd.
Celestial Virtue, like the angel-spirit,
Whose flaming sword defended Paradise,
Stands guard on ev'ry charm.—Elwina, yes,
To triumph over Douglas, we'll be virtuous.
Elwina.
'Tis not enough to be,—we must appear so:
Great souls disdain the shadow of offence,
Nor must their whiteness wear the stain of guilt.
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I shall retract—I dare not gaze upon thee;
My feeble virtue staggers, and again
The fiends of jealousy torment and haunt me.
They tear my heart-strings.—Oh!
Elwina.
No more;
But spare my injur'd honour the affront
To vindicate itself.
Percy.
But love!
Elwina.
But glory!
Percy.
Enough! a ray of thy sublimer spirit,
Has warm'd my dying honour to a flame!
One effort, and 'tis done. The world shall say,
When they shall speak of my disastrous love,
Percy deserv'd Elwina though he lost her.
Fond tears blind me not yet! a little longer,
Let my sad eyes a little longer gaze,
And leave their last beams here.
Elwina.
(turns from him.
I do not weep.
Percy.
Not weep? Then why those eyes avoiding mine?
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That sigh which rends my soul?
Elwina.
No more, no more.
Percy.
That pang decides it. Come—I'll die at once;
Thou pow'r supreme! take all the length of days,
And all the blessings kept in store for me,
And add to her account.—Yet turn once more,
One little look, one last, short glimpse of day,
And then a long, dark night.—Hold, hold my heart,
O break not yet, while I behold her sweetness;
For after this dear, mournful, tender moment,
I shall have nothing more to do with life.
Elwina.
I do conjure thee go.
Percy.
'Tis terrible to nature!
With pangs like these the soul and body part!
And thus, but Oh, with far less agony,
The poor departing wretch still grasps at being,
Thus clings to life, thus dreads the dark unknown,
Thus struggles to the last to keep his hold;
And when the dire convulsive groan of death
Dislodges the sad spirit—thus it stays,
And fondly hovers o'er the form it lov'd.
Once, and no more—farewel, farewel!
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For ever!
(They look at each other for some time, then
[Exit Percy.
After a pause,
'Tis past—the conflict's past! retire, my Birtha,
I wou'd address me to the throne of grace.
Birtha.
May heav'n restore that peace thy bosom wants?
[Exit Birtha.
Elwina.
(kneels.
Look down, thou awful, heart-inspecting judge,
Look down, with mercy, on thy erring creature,
And teach my soul the lowliness it needs!
And if some sad remains of human weakness,
Shou'd sometimes mingle with my best resolves,
O breathe thy spirit on this wayward heart,
And teach me to repent th'intruding sin,
In its first birth of thought!
(Noise without)
What noise is that?
The clash of swords! Shou'd Douglas be return'd?
Enter Douglas and Percy fighting.
Douglas.
Yield, villain, yield.
Percy.
Not till this good right arm
Shall fail its master.
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This to thy heart then.
Percy.
Defend thy own.
(They fight. Percy disarms Douglas.)
Douglas.
Confusion, death, and hell!
Edric.
(Without.)
This way I heard the noise.
(Enter Edric and many Knights and Guards from every part of the Stage.)
Percy.
Curs'd treachery!
But dearly will I sell my life.
Douglas.
Seize on him.
Percy.
I'm taken in the toils.
(Percy is surrounded by Guards, who take his sword.
Douglas.
In the curs'd snare
Thou laid'st for me, traytor, thyself art caught.
Elwina.
He never sought thy life.
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Adulteress, peace.
The villain Harcourt too—but he's at rest.
Percy.
Douglas, I'm in thy pow'r; but do not triumph,
Percy's betray'd, not conquer'd. Come, dispatch me.
Elwina
(to Douglas.)
O do not, do not kill him!
Percy.
Madam, forbear;
For by the glorious shades of my great fathers,
Their godlike spirit is not so extinct,
That I shou'd owe my life to that vile Scot.
Tho' dangers close me round on every side,
And death besets me—I am Percy still.
Douglas.
Sorceress, I'll disappoint thee—he shall die;
Thy minion shall expire before thy face,
That I may feast my hatred with your pangs,
And make his dying groans, and thy fond tears,
A banquet for my vengeance.
Elwina.
Savage tyrant!
I wou'd have fall'n a silent sacrifice,
So thou had'st spar'd my fame. I never wrong'd thee,
Percy.
She knew not of my coming; I alone,
Have been to blame—spite of her interdiction,
I hither came. She's pure as spotless saints.
66
I will not be excus'd by Percy's crime;
So white my innocence, it does not ask
The shade of others' faults to set it off;
Nor shall he need to sully his fair fame,
To throw a brighter lustre round my virtue.
Douglas.
Yet he can only die—but death for honour!
Ye pow'rs of hell, who take malignant joy,
In human bloodshed, give me some dire means,
Wild as my hate, and desperate as my wrongs!
Percy.
Enough of words. Thou know'st I hate thee, Douglas;
'Tis stedfast, fix'd, hereditary hate,
As thine for me; our fathers did bequeath it,
As part of our unalienable birthright,
Which nought but death can end.—Come, end it here.
Elwina.
(kneels.)
Hold, Douglas, hold!—not for myself I kneel,
I do not plead for Percy, but for thee:
Arm not thy hand against thy future peace,
Spare thy brave breast the tortures of remorse,—
Stain not a life of unpolluted honour,
For oh! as surely as thou strik'st at Percy,
Thou wilt for ever stab the fame of Douglas.
Percy.
Finish the bloody work.
67
Then take thy wish.
Percy.
Why dost thou start?
(Percy bares his bosom, Douglas advances to stab him, and discovers the Scarf.
Douglas.
Her scarf upon his breast!
The blasting sight converts me into stone;
Withers my powers like cowardice, or age,
Curdles the blood within my shiv'ring veins,
And palsies my bold arm.
Percy.
(ironically to the Knights.)
Hear you, his friends!
Bear witness to the glorious, great exploit,
Record it in the annals of his race,
That Douglas the renown'd—the valiant Douglas,
Fenc'd round with guards, and safe in his own castle,
Surpris'd a knight unarm'd, and bravely slew him.
Douglas.
(throwing away his dagger.)
'Tis true—I am the very stain of knighthood.
How is my glory dimm'd!
Elwina.
It blazes brighter!
Douglas was only brave—he now is gen'rous!
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This action has restor'd thee to thy rank,
And makes thee worthy to contend with Percy.
Douglas.
Thy joy will be as short, as tis insulting.
(to Elwina.)
And thou, imperious boy, restrain thy boasting.
Thou hast sav'd my honour, not remov'd my hate,
For my soul loaths thee for the obligation.
Give him his sword.
Percy.
Now thou'rt a noble foe,
And in the field of honour I will meet thee,
As knight encountring knight.
Elwina.
Stay, Percy, stay,
Strike at the wretched cause of all, strike here,
Here sheathe thy thirsty sword, but spare my husband.
Douglas.
Turn, Madam, and address those vows to me,
To spare the precious life of him you love.
Ev'n now you triumph in the death of Douglas,
Now your loose fancy kindles at the thought,
And wildly rioting in lawless hope,
Indulges the adultery of the mind.
But I'll defeat that wish.—Guards bear her in.
Nay, do not struggle.
(She is borne in.
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Let our death's suffice,
And rev'rence virtue in that form inshrin'd.
Douglas.
Provoke my rage no farther.—I have kindled
The burning torch of never-dying vengeance
At Love's expiring lamp.—But mark me, friends,
If Percy's happier genius shou'd prevail,
And I shou'd fall, give him safe conduct hence,
Be all observance paid him.—Go—I follow thee.
(Aside to Edric.
Within I've something for thy private ear.
Percy.
Now shall this mutual fury be appeas'd!
These eager hands shall soon be drench'd in slaughter!
Yes—like two famish'd vultures snuffing blood,
And panting to destroy, we'll rush to combat;
Yet I've the deepest, deadliest cause of hate,
I'm but Percy, thou'rt—Elwina's husband.
End of the Fourth Act.
| Percy | |