University of Virginia Library

SCENE—Woodland Glades.
Enter Raymond and Bramville.
RAYMOND.
Here wide the prospect opens. Ronsard watches
The other glade—Here rests my Traitress—Leave me
To this dread scene—

BRAMVILLE.
Gladly, I turn, my Lord,
From such sad view—O gracious Heaven prevent
What e'er offends thee—
[Ex. Bramville.

RAYMOND.
Ah, whence this sudden gloom which shoots athwart
The conscious forest! As if wailing ghosts
Were gliding thro' the trembling leaves, the sigh
Glides sullen on. 'Tis Nature's conscious horror
When the stern robber holds his impious feast,
Bought with the wretchedness of innocence.
Oh cruel Francis, what unfeeling heart
Rages in thy dark bosom! Oh inhuman,
Hast thou no pang that whispers what I feel!
Canst thou sit down and grossly feast thy appetite,
Whilst the just Master of the plunder'd banquet
Stabb'd by thy knife, lay bleeding in thy sight!
Oh heaven, I could not do it—but thou stern Tyrant—
[He turns and sees Erminia at some distance.
Ha, now horror steels me.

[Ex. and immediately re-enters. Another Woodland scene. Erminia in view and Eemoine.
ERMINIA.
How long, ah me, his tardy steps delay!

RAYMOND.
And longs she thus to meet him! Burning Hell,
What other torment hast thou yet to strike me?

ERMINIA.
Saw'st thou stray thro' these shades—

RAYMOND.
Saw'st thou! saw whom!
The King! And dar'st thou ask thy injur'd Husband.

[throwing his Peasant's cloak aside, Eemoine retires, Raymond brandishes his sword.
ERMINIA.
Oh save me Heaven, my Lord—

[going to embrace him.
RAYMOND.
Cruel apostate—
Away these Woman's arts—Thou, thou has damn'd
My frantic soul.

ERMINIA.
Oh yet, my Lord, yet hear me.

RAYMOND.
And darest thou think I'll leave thee in the bed
Of rank pollution—Pour your tears to heaven!
Let one short prayer—And horror brace my arm.

ERMINIA.
Oh, what thou wilt—Yet spare me till my tongue
Save thee from deepest woes, my injur'd Raymond.

RAYMOND.
Spare thee! for whom! for the Adulterer's arms!
No; by my wrongs—This for thy faithless heart.
[She faints.
Hah, do I grasp my Traitress! rousing vengeance
May now attone—Yet let me one dread moment
Contemplate that fair face, where once all Heaven
Open'd its smiles upon me—Ah, how woeful!
What energy of deepest penitence
[drops his sword.
Tells its severe distress in these pale features!
Yes; these are Virtue's looks, when generous Virtue
Bares her repenting bosom to the darts
Of terrible remorse—
How pure the innocence that once was thine!
That was, but is not now—And art thou now
My horror, freezing my blood at touch of thee.
O gracious powers, what anguish trembles there
On these pale lips of death! Yes; every feature
Speaks Innocence betray'd—Sure Angels wept
When thou—Oh fallen! Oh lost Erminia—
Yet wake and tell me—

[recovering.
ERMINIA.
Canst thou weep for me!
Oh generous Raymond, how was I betray'd!
Yet, oh forgive my ashes when the dust—
Yet, while I live, oh take, for pity snatch me
Far from my loath'd Betrayer's hateful arms

RAYMOND.
From thy loath'd Betrayer!

ERMINIA.
Yes; O witness Heaven!
I was betray'd to view thee as resolved
On my destruction, and that all your love
Was turn'd to raging hatred.

RAYMOND.
And, oh horror!
O'erwhelm thy speech, in Woman's blind revenge
Gave all—But turn your eyes to Heaven—

[he lifts and brandishes his sword.
ERMINIA.
Yet hear,
My Lord, my husband hear me; death will then,
If thou canst give it, death will then be all
My heart can wish—

RAYMOND.
Heaven's can I hope—O speak—

ERMINIA.
Oh couldst thou yet
Forgive, and love me.

RAYMOND.
Haste, speak, tho' thy words
Strike me with death.

ERMINIA.
'Twas on his promise safely to restore,
And reconcile me to you, I accompanied
The chace this morning.

RAYMOND.
Was the Villain's purpose
Then unaccomplish'd? Speak—

ERMINIA.
I was deceiv'd—

RAYMOND.
Oh Heaven—

ERMINIA.
Yet, yet, my Lord,
Yet hear: Oh Heaven bear witness how my soul
With sudden impulse trembled at the thought
When I perceiv'd his purpose.

RAYMOND.
Can I hope then!
Speak, and relieve me.

Enter Eemoine.
ERMINIA.
I hear the tumult
Of the King's train. O bear me hence, my Lord,
O pity me, and let not violence
Complete what all his art in vain essay'd.
O much have I to tell what arts they try'd
Yet all in vain—When I beheld their snares,
Stern tho' thy frown, my heart all raging vehemence
Burn'd thus to throw me in my Raymond's arms.

RAYMOND.
And art thou pure indeed!—O boundless rapture!
From hell's deep gulph methinks I spring to heaven!
Erminia spotless to my arms restored!

EEMOINE.
Yet fly not hence: As fiercest beasts of prey,
The cruel fugitives of either host
Pour round the forest edge—

ERMINIA.
O generous Raymond!
What rapturous burst of extacy o'erpowers thee
To hear my innocence! Yes; all thy rage
Was love; an endless theme of love thro' all
Our future smiling days.

RAYMOND.
Ah! what dire horrors
Have torn thy gentle breast—But why this dagger!

ERMINIA.
I left the chace in trust to fly to thee,
And lest the loath'd Betrayer might surprise me
This should perhaps have recompenc'd his crimes.
Now I resign it—

EEMOINE.
To my care—Ah madam—

[receives the dagger.
RAYMOND.
Oh my Erminia! this shall ever make
My love a generous debtor, with itself
Displeas'd, for never can its zeal repay
Thy matchless virtues.

ERMINIA.
O my Lord, my Lord—

Enter Guise and armed Attendants.
RAYMOND.
Detested villain—
[to Guise.
Oh for Heaven's dear sake.
At distance—
[to Erminia, held by Eemoine.
—Now this for thy treach'rous heart.

[to Guise, drawing his sword. Guise retires, Raymond followed by Ronsard, Bramville and men in arms pursue him and his party. Scene changes.