 | The Uninhabited Island |  |
SCENE VIII.
Enter Henriques.Hen.
Speak comfort, my Gernando;
Yet know'st thou aught of poor Constantia's fate?
Ger.
Constantia's dead.
Hen.
What says my friend?
Ger.
Read there.
[points to the inscription.
Hen.
[reads the first part of the inscription to himself, then exclaims.]
Unhappy fate!
[reads the remainder aloud.]
“On this far-distant coast
404
“Whoe'er thou art, that read'st these mournful lines,
“If savage fierceness dwell not in thy breast,
“Revenge or pity—”
There the sentence stands
Unfinish'd.
Ger.
There her vital spirits fail'd.
[falls in an agony on the rock.
Hen.
O! tragic issue of disastrous love!
Yes, weep Gernando, for thy tears are just.
Mine too shall flow in sympathy with thine,
Even rocks shall feel thy grief. But yet, my friend,
'Midst all thy woes one comfort still remains,
(Nor think that comfort little) no remorse
Preys on thy soul: thou hast fulfill'd each duty
Which love, or faith, or reason could require;
But Heaven was pleas'd to render vain thy cares.
No more remains, but with a pious mind
To bend submissive to this awful stroke,
And fly, as wisdom bids, these fatal shores.
Ger.
Forsake these shores! And whither must I turn?
Where dost thou think I more shall find repose?
O no!—here Heaven has fix'd my last abode:
Here on this spot—
405
What means my friend?
Ger.
While life
Informs my breast, I'll breach the vital air
Constantia breath'd: each object here shall feed
My faithful grief: each moment I'll return
And kiss this rock; here live in lingering pain
With her dear name for ever on my lips,
And dying here, complete my cruel fate.
Hen.
O! my Gernando, what hast thou resolv'd?
Would'st thou abjure thy country and thy friends,
Thy father worn with years—
Ger.
To see me thus,
Would bow his reverend head to earth with sorrow.
Then go, my friend, give comfort to his age;
Be thou for me a son; and if he seek
To know my fortune, spare a parent's ear,
Soften the tale, and speak but half my sufferings.
Hen.
And canst thou hope that e'er—
Ger.
My friend, farewell.
Attempt not, while my sorrows flow,
With empty words to sooth my woe:
No mortal shall my anguish share;
I ask no partner but despair.
With empty words to sooth my woe:
No mortal shall my anguish share;
I ask no partner but despair.
In these abodes, ah! what relief
Would kind compassion yield to grief?
A friend would but increase my pain,
And swell the grief he felt in vain.
Would kind compassion yield to grief?
A friend would but increase my pain,
And swell the grief he felt in vain.
[Exit.
| The Uninhabited Island | |