 | Percy |  |
70
ACT V.
SCENE, Elwina's Apartment.Elwina.
Thou who in judgment still remember'st mercy,
Look down upon my woes, preserve my husband.
Preserve my husband! Ah, I dare not ask it;
If Douglas shou'd survive, what then becomes
Of—him—I dare not name? And if he conquers
I have no husband. Agonizing state!
When I can neither hope, nor think, nor pray,
But guilt involves me. Sure to know the worst,
Cannot exceed the torture of suspense,
When each event is big with equal horror.
(Looks out.
What no one yet? This solitude is dreadful!
My horrors multiply!
Enter Birtha.
Thou messenger of woe!
Birtha.
Of woe indeed!
71
How, is my husband dead?
Oh speak.
Birtha.
Your husband lives.
Elwina.
Then farewel Percy!
He was the tenderest, truest!—Bless him heav'n,
With crowns of glory, and immortal joys!
Birtha.
Still are you wrong; the combat is not over.
Stay flowing tears, and give me leave to speak.
Elwina.
Thou say'st that Percy and my husband live;
Then why this sorrow?
Birtha.
What a task is mine?
Elwina.
Thou talk'st as if I were a child in grief,
And scarce acquainted with calamity.
Speak out, unfold thy tale whate'er it be,
For I am so familiar with affliction,
It cannot come in any shape will shock me.
Birtha.
How shall I speak? Thy husband—
Elwina.
What of Douglas?
72
When all was ready for the fatal combat,
He call'd his chosen knights, then drew his sword,
And on it made them swear a solemn oath,
Confirm'd by ev'ry rite religion bids,
That they wou'd see perform'd his last request,
Be it whate'er it wou'd. Alas! they swore.
Elwina.
What did the dreadful preparation mean?
Birtha.
Then to their hands he gave a poison'd cup,
Compounded of the deadliest herbs, and drugs;
Take this, said he, it is a husband's legacy;
Percy may conquer—and—I have a wife!
If Douglas falls, Elwina must not live.
Elwina.
Spirit of Herod! Why 'twas greatly thought!
'Twas worthy of the bosom which conceiv'd it!
Yet 'twas too merciful to be his own.
Yes, Douglas, yes, my husband, I'll obey thee,
And bless thy genius which has found the means
To reconcile thy vengeance with my peace,
The deadly means to make obedience pleasant.
Birtha.
O spare, for pity spare my bleeding heart:
Inhuman to the last. Unnatural! poison!
Elwina.
My gentle friend, what is there in a name?
The means are little where the end is kind.
If it disturb thee do not call it poison;
Call it the sweet oblivion of my cares,
My balm of woe, my cordial of affliction,
73
My kind dismission from a world of sorrow,
My cup of bliss, my passport to the skies.
Birtha.
Hark! what alarm is that?
Elwina.
The combat's over!
(Birtha goes out.
Elwina stands in a fix'd attitude, her hands clasp'd.)
Now gracious heav'n sustain me in the trial,
And bow my spirit to thy great decrees!
Re-enter Birtha.
(Elwina looks stedfastly at her without speaking.)
Birtha.
Douglas is fall'n.
Elwina.
Bring me the poison.
Birtha.
Never.
Elwina.
Where are the knights? I summon you—approach!
Draw near ye awful ministers of fate,
Dire instruments of posthumous revenge!
Come—I am ready; but your tardy justice
Defrauds the injur'd dead.—Go, haste, my friend,
See that the castle be securely guarded,
Let ev'ry gate be barr'd—prevent his entrance.
74
Whose entrance?
Elwina.
His—the murderer of my husband.
Birtha.
He's single, we have hosts of friends.
Elwina.
No matter;
Who knows what love and madness may attempt?
But here I swear by all that binds the good,
Never to see him more.—Unhappy Douglas!
O if thy troubled spirit still is conscious
Of our past woes, look down and hear me swear,
That when the legacy thy rage bequeathed me,
Works at my heart, and conquers struggling nature,
Ev'n in that agony I'll still be faithful.
She who cou'd never love, shall yet obey thee,
Weep thy hard fate, and die to prove her truth.
Birtha.
O unexampled virtue!
(a noise without.
Elwina.
Heard you nothing?
By all my fears th'insulting conqueror comes,
O save me, shield me!
Enter Douglas.
Heav'n and earth, my husband!
Douglas.
Yes—
To blast thee with the sight of him thou hat'st,
75
Elwina
(kneels.)
Blest be the fountain of eternal mercy,
This load of guilt is spar'd me! Douglas lives!
Perhaps both live! (to Birtha)
Cou'd I be sure of that,
The poison were superfluous, joy wou'd kill me.
Douglas.
Be honest now, for once, and curse thy stars;
Curse thy detested fate which brings thee back
A hated husband, when thy guilty soul
Revell'd in fond, imaginary joys
With my too happy rival; when thou flew'st,
To gratify, impatient, boundless passion,
And join adulterous lust to bloody murder;
Then to reverse the scene! polluted woman!
Mine is the transport now, and thine the pang.
Elwina.
Whence sprung the false report that thou had'st fall'n?
Douglas.
To give thy guilty breast a deeper wound,
To add a deadlier sting to disappointment,
I rais'd it—I contriv'd—I sent it thee.
Elwina.
Thou seest me bold but bold in conscious virtue.
—That my sad soul may not be stain'd with blood,
That I may spend my few short hours in peace,
And die in holy hope of heav'n's forgiveness,
Relieve the terrors of my lab'ring breast,
Say I am clear of murder—say he lives.
Say but that little word that Percy lives,
76
As far as universal space can part us.
Douglas.
Canst thou renounce him?
Elwina.
Tell me that he lives,
And thou shalt be the ruler of my fate,
For ever hide me in a convent's gloom,
From cheerful day-light, and the haunts of men;
Where sad austerity, and ceaseless pray'r,
Shall share my uncomplaining day between them.
Douglas.
O hypocrite! now vengeance to thy office.
I had forgot—Percy commends him to thee,
And by my hand—
Elwina.
How—by thy hand?
Douglas.
Has sent thee,
This precious pledge of love.
(He gives her Percy's Scarf.)
Elwina.
Then Percy's dead!
Douglas.
He is.—O great revenge, thou now art mine!
See how convulsive sorrow rends her frame!
This, this is transport!—injur'd honour, now,
Receives its vast, its ample retribution.
She sheds no tears, her grief's too highly wrought;
77
She shall not 'scape her portion of the pain.
No! she shall feel the fulness of distress,
And wake to keen perception of her loss.
Birtha.
Monster! Barbarian! leave her to her sorrows.
Elwina.
(In a low broken voice.)
Douglas—think not I faint, because thou see'st
The pale, and bloodless cheek of wan despair.
Fail me not yet, my spirits; thou cold heart,
Cherish thy freezing current one short moment,
And bear thy mighty load a little longer.
Douglas.
Percy, I must avow it, bravely fought,—
Died as a hero shou'd;—but, as he fell,
Hear it, fond wanton, call'd upon thy name,
And his lastly guilty breath sigh'd out—Elwina
Come—give a loose to rage, and feed my soul
With wild complaints, and womanish upbraidings.
Elwina.
(In a low solemn voice.)
No:
The sorrow's weak that wastes itself in words.
Mine is substantial anguish—deep, not loud;
I do not rave.—Resentment's the return
Of common souls for common injuries.
Light grief is proud of state, and courts compassion;
But there's a dignity in cureless sorrow,
A sullen grandeur which disdains complaint.
Rage is for little wrongs—Despair is dumb.
[Exeunt Elwina and Birtha.
78
Why this is well!—her sense of woe is strong!
The sharp, keen tooth of gnawing Grief devours her,—
Feeds on her heart, and pays me back my pangs.
Since I must perish, 'twill be glorious ruin:
I fall not singly, but, like some proud tower,
I'll crush surrounding objects in the wreck,
And make the devastation wide and dreadful.
Enter Raby.
Raby.
O whither shall a wretched father turn?
Where fly for comfort? Douglas, art thou here?
I do not ask for comfort at thy hands.
I'd but one little casket where I lodg'd
My precious hoard of wealth, and, like an ideot,
I gave my treasure to another's keeping,
Who threw away the gem, nor knew its value,
But left the plunder'd owner quite a beggar.
Douglas.
What! art thou come to see thy race dishonour'd,
And thy bright sun of glory set in blood?
I wou'd have spar'd thy virtues, and thy age,
The knowledge of her infamy.
Raby.
'Tis false.
Had she been base, this sword had drank her blood.
Douglas.
Ha! dost thou vindicate the wanton?
79
Wanton?
Thou hast defam'd a noble lady's honour—
My spotless child—in me behold her champion:
The strength of Hercules will nerve this arm,
When lifted in defence of innocence.
The daughter's virtue for the father's shield,
Will make old Raby still invincible.
(Offers to draw.
Douglas.
Forbear.
Raby.
Thou dost disdain my feeble arm,
And scorn my age.
Douglas.
There will be blood enough;
Nor need thy wither'd veins, old lord, be drain'd,
To swell the copious stream.
Raby.
Thou wilt not kill her?
Douglas.
Oh, 'tis a day of horror!
Enter Edric and Birtha.
Edric.
Where is Douglas?
I come to save him from the deadliest crime
Revenge did ever meditate.
Douglas.
What mean'st thou?
80
This instant fly, and save thy guiltless wise.
Douglas.
Save that perfidious—?
Edric.
That much injur'd woman.
Birtha.
Unfortunate indeed, but O most innocent!
Edric.
In the last solemn article of death,
That truth-compelling state, when ev'n bad men
Fear to speak falsely, Percy clear'd her fame.
Douglas.
I heard him.—'Twas the guilty fraud of love.
The scarf, the scarf! that proof of mutual passion,
Giv'n but this day, to ratify their crimes!
Birtha.
What means my lord? Alas! that fatal scarf,
Was giv'n long since, a toy of childish friendship;
Long e'er your marriage, e'er you knew Elwina.
Raby.
'Tis I am guilty.
Douglas.
Ha!
Raby.
I,—I alone.
Cofusion, honour, pride, parental fondness
81
He was—the destin'd husband of Elwina!
He lov'd her—was belov'd,—and I approv'd.
The tale is long.—I chang'd my purpose since,
Forbad their marriage.
Douglas.
And confirm'd my mis'ry!
Twice did they meet to-day—my wife and Percy.
Raby.
I know it.
Douglas.
Ha! thou knew'st of my dishonour?
Thou wast a witness, an approving witness,
At least a tame one!
Raby.
Percy came, 'tis true,
A constant, tender, but a guiltless lover.
Douglas.
I shall grow mad indeed! a guiltless lover!
Percy, the guiltless lover of my wife!
Raby.
He knew not she was married.
Douglas.
How? is't possible?
Raby.
Douglas, 'tis true; both, both were innocent:
He, of her marriage; she, of his return.
Birtha.
But now, when we believ'd thee dead, she vow'd
82
Not in a start of momentary passion,
But with a martyr's dignity and calmness,
She bade me bring the poison.
Douglas.
Had'st thou done it,
Despair had been my portion! Fly good Birtha,
Find out the suff'ring saint—describe my penitence,
And paint my vast extravagance of fondness,
Tell her I love, as never mortal lov'd—
Tell her I know her virtues, and adore them—
Tell her I come, but dare not seek here presence,
Till she pronounce my pardon.
Birtha.
I obey.
(Exit Birtha.
Raby.
My child is innocent! ye choirs of saints,
Catch the blest sounds—my child is innocent!
Douglas.
O I will kneel, and sue for her forgiveness,
And thou shall help me plead the cause of love,
And thou shalt weep—she cannot sure refuse,
A kneeling husband, and a weeping father.
Thy venerable cheek is wet already.
Raby.
Douglas! it is the dew of grateful joy!
My child is innocent! I now wou'd die,
Lest fortune shou'd grow weary of her kindness,
And grudge me this short transport.
83
Where, where is she?
My fond impatience brooks not her delay;
Quick let me find her, hush her troubled soul,
And sooth her into peace!—She comes, she comes,
To crown my pardon, and reward my love!
Enter Birtha.
Birtha.
O horror, horror, horror!
Douglas.
Ah what mean'st thou?
Birtha.
Elwina—
Douglas.
Speak—
Birtha.
Her grief wrought up to frenzy,
She has, in her delirium swallow'd poison.
Raby.
Frenzy and poison!
Douglas.
Both a husband's gift;
But thus I do her justice.
As Douglas goes to stab himself, enter Elwina distracted, her hair dishevell'd, Percy's Scarf in her hand.
Elwina.
(goes up to Douglas.)
What blood again? We cannot kill him twice
Soft, soft—no violence—he's dead already;—
I did it—Yes—I drown'd him with my tears;
But hide the cruel deed! I'll scratch him out
A shallow grave, and lay the green Sod on it;
Aye—and I'll bind the wild briar o'er the turf,
And plant a Willow there, a weeping Willow—
(She sits on the ground.
84
He'll pluck the willow up—and plant a thorn,
He will not let me sit upon his grave,
And sing all day, and weep, and pray all night.
Raby.
Dost thou not know me?
Elwina.
Yes—I do remember
You had a harmless lamb.
Raby.
I had indeed!
Elwina.
From all the flock you chose her out a Mate,
In sooth a fair one, you bid her love it,
But while the Shepherd slept, the Wolf devour'd it.
Raby.
My heart will break. This is too much, too much.
Elwina.
(smiling)
O 'twas a cordial draught—I drank it all.
Raby.
What means my child?
Douglas.
The poison—Oh the poison!
Thou dear wrong'd innocence—
Elwina.
Off—murderer, off!
Do not defile me with those crimson hands.
85
This is his winding Sheet—I'll wrap him in it—
I wrought for my love—there—now see I've drest him.
How brave he looks! my father will forgive him,
He dearly lov'd him once—but that is over.
See where he comes—beware my gallant Percy,
Ah! come not here, this is the cave of Death,
And there's the dark, dark Palace of Revenge!
See, the pale king sits on his blood-stain'd throne!
He points to me—I come, I come, I come.
(She faints, they run to her, Douglas takes up his Sword, and stabs himself.
Douglas.
Thus, thus I follow thee.
Edric.
Hold thy rash hand.
Douglas.
It is too late. No remedy but this,
Cou'd med'cine a disease so desperate.
Raby.
Ah she revives!
Douglas.
(raising himself.)
She lives? bear, bear me to her!
We shall be happy yet.
He struggles to get to her, but sinks down.
It will not be—
O for a last embrace—Alas I faint—
She lives—Now death is terrible indeed—
Fair Spirit how I lov'd thee—O—Elwina!
(Dies.
86
Where have I been? The damps of death are on me.
Raby.
Look up, my child; O do not leave me thus;
Pity the anguish of thy aged father.
Hast thou forgot me?
Elwina.
No—You are my father;
O you are kindly come to close my eyes,
And take the kiss of death from my cold lips.
Raby.
Do we meet thus?
Elwina.
We soon shall meet in peace.
I've but a faint remembrance of the past—
But something tells me—O those painful struggles!
Raise me a little—there—
(She sees the body of Douglas.
What sight is that?
A sword, and bloody? Ah! and Douglas murder'd?
Edric.
Convinc'd too late of your unequal'd virtues,
And wrung with deep compunction for your wrongs,
By his own hand the wretched Douglas fell.
Elwina.
This adds another, sharper pang to death.
87
Nor let this sin be on his head, or mine!
Raby.
I have undone you all—the crime is mine!
O thou poor injur'd saint, forgive thy father,
He kneels to his wrong'd child.
Elwina.
Now you are cruel.
Come near, my father, nearer—I wou'd see you,
But mists and darkness cloud my failing sight.
O Death! suspend thy rights for one short moment,
'Till I have ta'en a father's last embrace—
A father's blessing.—Once—and now 'tis over.
Receive me to thy mercy—gracious heaven.
She dies.
Raby.
She's gone! for ever gone! Cold, dead and cold.
Am I a father? Fathers love their children—
I murder mine! With impious pride I snatch'd
The bolt of vengeance from the hand of heav'n.
My punishment is great—but Oh! 'tis just.
My soul submissiive bows. A righteous god
Has made my crime become my chastisement!
End of the Fifth Act.
| Percy | |