University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE.

The same as the last; the arched Door nearly closed. Annabel.
Ann.
I cannot rest. I wander to and fro
Within my dreary prison, as to seek
For comfort and find none. Each hour hath killed
A hope that seemed the last. The shadows point
Upward. The sun is sinking. Guard me, heaven,
Through this dread night!
(A gun is heard without.
What evil sound—All sounds
Are evil here! Is there some murder doing?
Or wantonly in sport.

Enter Julian through the arched Door.
Jul.
Annabel!

Ann.
Julian!

Jul.
My wife! Art thou still mine?

Ann.
Thine own.

Jul.
She smiles!
She clings to me! her eyes are fixed on mine
With the old love, the old divinest look
Of innocence! It is yet time. She's pure!
She's undefiled!—Speak to me, Annabel.
Tremble not so.

Ann.
'Tis joy. Oh I have been
So wretched! And to see thee when I thought
We ne'er should meet again! How didst thou find me?

Jul.
The rosary! the blessed rosary
Shone in the sun-beam, like a beacon fire,
A guiding star! Thrice holy was its light
That led me here to save—

Ann.
Oh blessings on thee!
How? where? what way? The iron door is barred!
Where didst thou enter Julian!

Jul.
Through the casement
Of yonder chamber.

Ann.
What? that grim ascent!
That awful depth! Didst thou dare this for me?
And must I?—But I fear not. I'll go with thee.
I'm safe of foot, and light. I'll go.

Jul.
Thou canst not.

Ann.
Then go thyself, or he will find thee here,
He and his ruffian band. Let us part now.
Kiss me again. Fly, fly from Sicily!—
That fearful man—but he is all one lie—
Told me thy life was forfeited.

Jul.
He told thee
A truth.

Ann.
Oh fly! fly! fly!

Jul.
My Annabel
The bloodhounds that he laid upon the scent
Have tracked me hither. Didst thou hear a gun?
For once the ball passed harmless.

Ann.
Art thou hurt?
Art sure thou art not?

Jul.
Yes. But they who aimed
That death are on the watch. Their quarry's lodged.
We can escape them—one way—only one!

Ann.
How? What way?

Jul.
Ask not.

Ann.
Whither?

Jul.
To—my father.

Ann.
Then he's alive—Oh happiness! They told me
That he was dead. Why do we loiter here?
Let's join him now.

Jul.
Not yet.

Ann.
Now! now! Thou know'st not
How horribly these walls do picture to me
The several agonies whereof my soul
Hath drunk to day. I have been tempted, Julian,
By one—a fiend! tempted till I almost thought
God had forsaken me. But thou art here
To save me, and my pulse beats high again
With love and hope. I am light-hearted now,
And could laugh like a child—only these walls
Do crowd around me with a visible weight,
A palpable pressure; giving back the forms
Of wildest thoughts that wandered through my brain
Bright chattering Madness, and sedate Despair,
And Fear the Great Unreal!—Take me hence!
Take me away with thee!

Jul.
Not yet, not yet.
Thou sweetest wretch! I cannot—Dotard! Fool!
I must. Not yet! not yet!—Talk to me, Annabel;
This is the hour when thou wast wont to make
Earth Heaven with lovely words; the sun-set hour,
That woke thy spirit into joy. Once more
Talk to me, Annabel.

Ann.
Aye, all day long,
When we are free. Thy voice is choked; thy looks
Are not on me; thy hand doth catch and twitch
And grasp mine painfully,—that gentle hand!

Jul.
O God! O God! that right hand!—kiss it not!
Take thy lips from it!

Ann.
Canst thou save me, Julian?
Thou always dost speak truth. Canst save thyself?
Shall we go hence together?

Jul.
Aye, one fate—
One home.

Ann.
Why that is bliss. We shall be poor—
Shall we not, Julian? I shall have a joy
I never looked for; I shall work for thee,
Shall tend thee, be thy Page, thy 'Squire, thy all,—
Shall I not, Julian.

Jul.
Annabel, look forth
Upon this glorious world! Look once again
On our fair Sicily, lit by that sun
Whose level beams do cast a golden shine
On sea, and shore, and city, on the pride
Of bowery groves; on Etna's smouldering top;—
Oh bright and glorious world! and thou of all
Created things most glorious, tricked in light,
As the stars that live in Heaven!

Ann.
Why dost thou gaze
So sadly on me.

Jul.
The bright stars, how oft
They fall, or seem to fall! The Sun—look! look!
He sinks, he sets in glory. Blessed orb,
Like thee—like thee—Dost thou remember once
We sate by the sea shore when all the Heaven
And all the ocean seemed one glow of fire
Red, purple, saffron, melted into one
Intense and ardent flame, the doubtful line
Where sea and sky should meet was lost in that
Continuous brightness; there we sate and talked
Of the mysterious union that blessed orb
Wrought between earth and heaven, of life and death—
High mysteries!—and thou didst wish thyself
A spirit sailing in that flood of light
Straight to the Eternal Gates, didst pray to pass
Away in such a glory. Annabel!
Look out upon the burning sky, the sea
One lucid ruby—'tis the very hour!
Thou'lt be a Seraph at the Fount of Light
Before—

Ann.
What must I die? And wilt thou kill me?
Canst thou? Thou cam'st to save—

Jul.
To save thy honour!
I shall die with thee.

Ann.
Oh no! no! live! live!
If I must die—Oh it is sweet to live,
To breathe, to move, to feel the throbbing blood
Beat in the veins,—to look on such an earth
And such a Heaven,—to look on thee! Young life
Is very dear.

Jul.
Would'st live for D'Alba?

Ann.
No!
I had forgot. I'll die. Quick! Quick!

Jul.
One kiss!
Angel, dost thou forgive me?

Ann.
Yes.

Jul.
My sword!—
I cannot draw it.

Ann.
Now! I'm ready.

Enter Bertone, and two Murderers.
Bert.
Seize him!
Yield thee, Prince Julian! Yield thee! Seize the lady.

Jul.
Oh fatal, fond delay! Dare not come near us!
Stand off! I'll guard thee, sweet. But when I fall
Let him not triumph.

Bert.
Yield thee!
Strike him down.

Jul.
Thou canst die then, my fairest.

[The two murderers have now advanced close to Julian.
Bert.
Now!

[One of the murderers strikes at Julian with his sword; Annabel rushes before him, receives the wound aimed at him, and falls at his feet.
Ann.
(before she is wounded.)
For thee!
Then after.
For thee.
'Tis sweet!

(dies.
Jul.
Fiend, hast thou slain her? Die! die! die!
Come on.

(fights and kills him.
Bert.
Call instant help! Hasten the Count!

[Exit the other murderer.
(Julian and Bertone fight, and Julian kills him.
Jul.
My wife!
My murdered wife! Doth she not breathe? I thought—
My sight is dim—Oh no! she's pale! she's cold!
She's still! If she were living she would speak
To comfort me. She's mute! she's stiff! she's—dead!
Why do I shiver at the word, that am
Death's factor, peopler of unhallowed graves,
Slayer of all my race! not thee! not thee!
God, in his mercy, guided the keen sword
To thy white bosom,—I could not. Lie there.
I'll shroud thee in my mantle.
(covering her with it.
The rude earth
Will veil thy beauty next. One kiss!—She died
To save me.—One kiss, Annabel! I slew
The slave that killed thee,—but the fiend, the cause—
Is he not coming?—I will chain in life
Till I've avenged thee; I could slay an army
Now in my strong despair. But that were mercy.
He must wear daggers in his heart. He loved her;—
I'll feed his hopes—and then—Aye—ha! ha! ha!
That will be a revenge to make the fiends
Laugh—ha! ha! ha! I'll wrap me in this cloak
(taking one belonging to the dead bravo.
And in the twilight—So!—He will not know
My voice—it frightens me!—I have not hidden
Thee quite, my Annabel! There is one tress
Floating in springy grace—as if—she's dead!
She's dead! I must not gaze, for then my heart
Will break before its time. He comes. The stairs
Groan at his pressure.

Enter D'Alba.
D'Alba
(entering to an Attendant)
Back, and watch the gate!—
All's tranquil. Where's the traitor?

Jul.
Dead.

D'Alba.
Who slew him?

Jul.
I.

D'Alba.
And the lady,—where is she?

Jul.
At rest.

D'Alba.
Fair Gentleness! After this perilous storm
She needs must lack repose. I'll wait her here.
Friend! thou hast done good service to the state
And me; we're not ungrateful. Julian's sword
Fails him not often; and the slave who fled
Proclaimed him Victor.

Jul.
He slew two.

D'Alba.
And thou
Slew'st him? Aye there he lies in the ermined cloak
Of royalty, his haughty shroud! Six ells
Of rude uncostly linen serves to wrap
Your common corse; but this man was born swathed
In regal purple; lived so; and so died.
So be he buried. Let not mine enemy
Call me ungenerous. Roll him in his ermine
And dig a hole without the city gate
For him and the proud Regent. Quick! I'd have
The funeral speedy. Ah! the slaughtering sword
Lies by him, brown with clotted gore. Hence! hence!
And drag the carrion with thee.

Jul.
Wilt thou not
Look on the corse?

D'Alba.
I cannot wait her waking.
I must go feast my eyes on her fair looks—
Divinest Annabel! My widowed bride!—
Where is she?

Jul.
(uncovering the body.)
There. Now gaze thyself to Hell!
Gloat with hot love upon that beauteous dust!—
She's safe! She's dead!

D'Alba.
Julian!

Jul.
But touch her not—
She's mine.

D'Alba.
Oh perfectest and loveliest thing!
Eternal curses rest upon his head
Who murdered thee!

Jul.
Off! off! Pollute her not!
She's white! She's pure!—Curses! Pour curse for curse
On the foul murderer! On him who turned
The sweet soul from her home, who slew her father,
Hunted her husband as a beast of prey,
Pursued, imprisoned, lusted, left no gate
Open save that to Heaven!—Off! gaze not on her!
Thy look is profanation.

Enter Alfonso, Leanti, Valore, &c.
Alf.
(Entering.)
Here, Leanti!
This way! Oh sight of horror! Julian! Julian!

Valore.
The Princess dead! Why D'Alba—

Leanti.
Seize him guards.
Lead him before the States. This bloody scene
Calls for deep vengeance.

D'Alba.
If I were not weary
Of a world that sweats under a load of fools—
Old creaking vanes that turn as the wind changes—
Lords, I'd defy ye! I'd live on for ever!
And I defy ye now. For she is gone—
The glorious vision!—and the Patriarch's years
Were valueless. Do with me as ye will.—
Ye cannot call back her.

Leanti.
Off with him!

(Exit D'Alba guarded.
Alf.
Julian!
Wilt thou not speak?

Jul.
I have been thanking heaven
That she is dead.

Valore.
His wits are gone.

Alf.
My Julian
Look on me. Dost thou know me? I'm thy Cousin,
Thy comforter.

Jul.
She was my Comforter!
And now—But I do know thee; thou'rt the King;
The pretty boy I loved—She loved thee too!
I'm glad thou'rt come to close my eyes. Draw nearer
That I may see thy face. Where art thou?

Alf.
Here!

Jul.
Poor child he weeps! Send for the honoured dead
Beside the city gate,—he pardoned me!
Bury us in one grave,—all in one grave!
I did not kill her. Strew her with white flowers,
For she was innocent.

Leanti.
Cheer thee! Take hope!

Valore.
Raise up his head.

Alf.
My Julian!

Jul.
He forgave me,—
Thou know'st he did!—White flowers! Nothing but white!

(Dies.
Leanti.
He's gone!

Alf.
And I am left in the wide world
Alone. My Julian!