University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Trumpets. Enter Archbishop and Albemarle at one Door, Arden and Barons at the other.
Albemarle.
What from the camp, my Lord?

Arden.
The hosts are joined.
All friends and fellow soldiers, they compose
One mighty army. Rivals now are friends,
And brothers of the war. Yon field displays
A scene of glory to a soldier's eye.
I never saw the face of war so gay,
So beauteous. Glancing in the sun, behold
The camp in motion, and the field on fire.
The soul of freedom animates them all.
Impatient for the trumpet's sound, they act
The future fight; and, brandishing their arms,
With flaming circles sweep the empty air.

Archbishop.
Bold is the heart for liberty that beats,
And strong his arm who draws his country's sword.
When for a nation's rights the banner flies,
The victor's laurel with the olive twines:
The host of freedom is the host of God.

[Enter a Messenger with a Letter to Arden.
Arden.
The news I have received concern us deeply.
Barons, we tremble on the verge of fate.
In this confederate host a traitor lurks,
Who has betray'd our measures to the foe,
And holds a correspondence with the Dauphin.

Albemarle.
A traitor among us!

Arden.
A secret foe,
Who plots our ruin. Guards, arrest th'ambassador:
Bring him before us. Now, before we know
This great offender, Barons, it is meet
That we pronounce his doom, lest he should stand
Too near our heart, by friendship or by blood,
And so elude the sentence of the laws.

Albemarle.
Although my nature leads me to be mild,
Yet here the highest punishment is due,
And timely rigour is humanity.
By this our high authority we guard,
And strike astonishment and terror round
To all offenders in the time to come.
No favour or affection will seduce
The steady patriot from the public good.
He to his country his own life devotes;
Nor will he spare a traitor's.

Archbishop.
Instant death
He merits. Rousing at the call of Heaven,
Now when the noblest spirits of the world
Plan for the public; when the bravest hands
Are rais'd to strike for freedom and mankind;
When just pronounced in the fane of Heaven,
The recent vow yet trembles on the tongue;
If meanly lurking, mid' a chosen band
Of patriots and of heroes, one be found,
False to his trust, his honour, and his oath,
Who, scorning sanctions, human and divine,
Betrays his country to her foes, divides
Th'inheritance of future times, and sells
Eternal honour for eternal shame;
'Tis then that justice, reddening into wrath
Demands a victim for the public good:
A great example will restore the host:
A traitor's blood will reinstate the laws.

Arden.
Does then the general voice pronounce his doom?

Barons.
One is our voice; and death is the award.

Arden.
The bonds of friendship, and the ties of blood
Cancell'd, then awful justice holds its course.
His Country is the parent of the brave,
Who march devoted where she points the way.

[Noise behind Scenes. Ambassador brought in.
Ambassador.
This is the insolence of anarchy!
Though you have risen against your rightful king,
I hope you still regard the law of nations.
Why, even in barbarous, and in savage states,
Ambassadors are sacred—

Arden.
When they're honest.
But, if they plot against the kingdom's weal,
They answer with their life. There is a letter
Sent by some traitor to your prince the Dauphin.
Produce that letter, and in peace depart.

[Ambassador gives it to Arden, who peruses it with marks of agitation.
Albemarle.
You start! From whom, my Lord?—

Arden
, [Giving it to him.
Inform yourself.

Albemarle
[Reads the Letter.
“To the Dauphin.
“A dark design is going on against us;
“Why art thou absent in the day of war?
“Come on the wings of love to save the fond,
“Ah! if you come not, the undone—Elvina.”
My daughter! Heavens! It is impossible!

Elvina
, [entering unseen by Albemarle.
What means this tumult? Oh! Eternal powers!
I am betray'd! The fatal secret's known—

[Apart.
Albemarle
, [Recovering from his astonishment, reads again.
“A dark design is going on against us;
“Why art thou absent in the day of war?
“Come on the wings of love to save the fond,
“Ah! if you come not, the undone—Elvina.”
Undone Elvina! Ah! Undone indeed!
[Seeing her.
Ha! Take her from my sight. Alas! my daughter,
Thou wast an angel once!—Ye shades of death
Fall round, and wrap me in your gloom forever!

Archbishop.
Unhappy father! we lament thy woes.
The sacred season of the hoary hair
Such shocks of destiny can ill sustain.
In this dark hour of trouble and despair
We look to thee alone.

Albemarle.

Archbishop.
Hard is thy duty now, heroic father!
But high the part appointed thee of Heaven.
Resume thy spirit: Call thy virtue forth.
Now, in the conscious eye of Heaven and earth,
Thou actest for the glory, for the good
Of ages yet to come: Thou standest forth.
A great example to the wondering world.
—I see it plain: Behold the hand of Heaven
Stretch'd from the sky, and beckoning thee to tread
A high heroic path!—The latter days,
The fate of England in succeeding times,
The fame and glory of the British isle,
Hang on the passing hour.

Albemarle
, [In astonishment.
What means my Lord?—

Archbishop.

Albemarle.
I wish it not.

Archbishop.
'Twas thus, when Rome her liberty regained,
A father doom'd his darling son to death;
He won immortal glory, and inspired
Rome with his spirit. From his patriot deed
Went sudden virtue living o'er the land.
The Roman kindled when he heard the tale,
And stepp'd a hero forth; and eager burn'd
For Rome to combat, and for Rome to die.
Hence heroes, patriots, croud the historic page;
Hence consuls, senators, a God-like train!
Hence a great people rose, the Lords of earth;
Hence many centuries of glory roll'd
In long procession; and eternal Rome,
The Queen of nations, did ascend the throne,
And sway the sceptre of the sea-girt world.

Albemarle.
Thou hast no daughter.—

Arden.
In the dreadful shock
Of this disaster, Barons, it is meet
That to a parent's feelings we appeal,
And bid the father of his country judge.

[The Barons retire to the bottom of the Theatre.
Albemarle
, [On the front.

[Looking earnestly upon her as he goes out.
Baron.
Alas! unhappy man!
Thy age is desolate. Ill-fated maid,
In prime of youth and beauty doom'd to death!

Arden.
Now, as the law of chivalry ordains,
And honour's cause demands, Barons prepare
A place of combat in the listed field;
If any Knight or Baron of the land
Will stand a champion to defend the fair.

SCENE II.

Arden, Elvina.
Arden.
This happy morning, Lady, you appeared
The wife of Arden in the eye of England,
And tho' our hands were not in wedlock join'd,
Our interest is one. I have a right
To interpose in your concerns; and more,
I feel your sorrows as they were my own,
For I lament you more than I can blame.

Elvina.
I hope my Lord you come not to disturb
The dying moments of a wretched maid,
And wring a heart that soon shall cease to beat.

Arden.
I come not to renew, but end your woes.
I've a proposal for thy serious ear,
On which the fortune of thy life depends.

Elvina.
My Lord, I listen to it.

Arden.
You are young,
Elvina, you are beautiful; allured
And dazzled with false glory, you have erred
One step from duty; if reflection soon
Recalls you to the path from which you've strayed,
You add one beauty to a virtuous life,
Which spotless innocence can never boast.
If you renounce, if from your heart renounce,
Renounce for ever that opprobrious love,
Then I this instant to the plain descend,
The champion of your cause: A husband's arm
Will wipe the stain that rests upon thy name,
And upon mine: My honour is at stake:
A Baron of the realm, an English chieftain,
Arm'd, and invested with supreme command,
Will never brook dishonour, never bear
The shadow of affront; nor suffer man
To point the finger, or to lift the look
Of scorn against him.

Elvina.
In this hour of woe,
Your noble generosity, my Lord,
Hath given another pang to this sad bosom,
Which yet, alas! no just return can make.
Inviolable vows oppose your claim;
Stronger than vows, unalterable love
Reigns in a heart that owns no second Lord.

Arden.
That is the language of aversion fix'd.

Elvina.
It is the language of Elvina's soul.

Arden.
And have I merited thy stedfast scorn?

Elvina.
I scorn thee not. I can distinguish well
A lover's passion from a Baron's pride.
The candid bosom opens to the day;
Nor clothes ambition in the garb of love.
Your virtues I revere; your rank respect;
But who can teach a tender heart to throb?
I look upon thee as my Father's friend;
My country's champion: Never as my knight,
Or as my husband.

Arden.
Then behold your judge.
Guards, watch the prisoner.

SCENE VI.

Elvina
alone.
Now the dye is cast;
And I have sealed the sentence of my death.
O thou that helper of the helpless art!
O be not absent in the hour of woe!
Forsake me not when by the world forsaken!
No hope have I on earth: To thee I fly,
As to a father's arms: I have no father,
No friend, but thee alone. God of my youth!
Thou didst receive me with paternal arms
When cast an infant on a wretched world;
And when a stranger thou didst guide my feet
Thro' the wild maze of life: O leave me not,
My God, in my last hour!—

[Going off with the Guards, Albemarle enters, takes her by the hand, and leads her in silence to the front of the stage.
Albemarle.
Alas! my daughter,
The day of trouble now hath come upon us!
I am an old man: I am miserable!
And thou art fallen, friendless, and forlorn!
Alas, Elvina! Thou hast brought us low!

Elvina.
I'm every way unhappy and undone.

Albemarle.
After what pass'd this morning, what you've done
So wild, so monstrous seems—it is incredible!
Alas! it was the effort of despair.
I would not shock thee now—'Twould be an insult—
O Heaven! what agony the bosom rends
When the curse comes upon the hoary head!

Elvina.
Oh! I am doubly wretched to involve
My father in despair!—

Albemarle.
O fond old man!
O foolish father! I delighted, thought,
This tempest o'er, my evening would be bright,
And my departure like the setting sun.
I fondly thought, when better days return'd,
Safe under shadow of the vine to sing,
And bless my children's children! fondly thought
To see a race of thine around me rise,
The young Elvinas of the age to come;
Trace my own features in their opening looks,
Hear the first accents of their lisping tongues,
Woo their embraces, fold them in my arms,
And like an old man prattle in their praise.
Then looking heaven-ward, to depart in peace,
In his good hour: Within their arms and thine,
Th'embrace of nature! look my last adieus,
And smile, and fall asleep—O God of heaven,
Now I am childless!—

Elvina.
'Tis too much, my father!
I was prepar'd to meet thy stern rebuke;
I could have borne the looks and words of wrath.
But shield me, Heaven! for I can ne'er support
A father's tenderness, a father's tears,
That look forlorn that marks the bursting heart.

Albemarle.
To what is age reserved? I never thought
That thou would'st prove a parricide, my daughter,
That thou wouldst pluck these white hairs by the root,
And dig thy father's grave. I thought not so.
[Starting back.
What hast thou done?—Yet thou art still my child;
Thou art my only child!—
[Taking her in his arms.
By Arden awed,
None of our Barons will defend thy cause:
I will defend thee; I will be thy champion.
Old is my arm, but, in a cause like this,
A daughter's cause, it still can draw the sword.
I'm young again—

[Drawing his sword.
Elvina.

Albemarle
, [Embracing her.
O my lovely child,
Adieu!—Th'Eternal eye alone beholds
When we shall meet again—

SCENE II.

Elvina, Emma.
Elvina.
My faithful Emma,
My dear companion in the days of youth
Before distinction of our birth was known,
I would depart in peace with all the world.
If ever I have treated you with rigour,
Or chid you without cause—

Emma.
O never, never!
My noble Lady, you have ever been.
The best, the kindest, and the sweetest mistress,
And less your servant than your friend I've lived.
O would to God that I could die for you!

Elvina.
I have a last request to make, my Emma,
A dying charge to give! Find out that youth
For whom in early years I'm doom'd to die;
O tell him, charge him, if he ever loved me,
To guard, to pity, and solace the age
Of my poor father! as another child
My place to fill, my duty to perform.
Tell that for him I would have wish'd to live:
Tell that for him I died: And all I ask,
Is for my sake, for his Elvina's sake,
To love my father, and remember me!
I know his tender heart: I would not wish him
To mourn my fate in bitterness of soul,
And waste his days in solitude and sorrow.
Yet I would have him—sometimes to be sad—
To think of her who died for him; to come
A midnight mourner to my silent tomb,
And wet my ashes with a lover's tears.
Then in th'appointed house I'll rest in peace,
And wait the morning that awakes the dead.