 | The Father's Tragedy |  |
Scene IV.
—An upper room. Enter Elizabeth Dunbar and Women with flowers.Elizabeth Dunbar.
This is a chamber where our pleachèd blooms
Will never summer-sicken, till they crown
My wedding. Fah! How damp is the gay store;
Ere I unseat this rose, shake forth its dew.
1st Woman.
'Twill fall.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Then let it. Ah, 'tis gone, fair cup!
But I will have no weeping.
2nd Woman.
None at all?
Why, lady, every blossom is in tears.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
It shall not be. Go, take them to the fire,
And lay them in the comfort of its light
Until they laugh.
2nd Woman.
'Twill wither them.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Take all;
I'll have no mourners. Would that I were safe.
[Exeunt Women.
As future queen! queen! Oh, to think of it!
To be the dimple on the cheek of state,
The centre of all smiling and all grace;
This hand a little silver shrine to bless
All lips that seek it, and about my head
The glory of the sun in all his pow'r.
They call me fair and gracious; even now
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Then every moment will be on its knees
A servant to my charms.—I'm public. Ah!
Visited royally!
[Enter King Robert and Albany.]
I wait my maids
To bring me flow'rs to wreathe. My lords, the dawn
Had made them goblets of bedewing grief
I set the flames to sip.
Albany
[to King Robert].
Speak!
King Robert.
Nay, not now.
Albany.
Lady, the king hath somewhat he would say.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Speak, sire; attention kneels.
King Robert.
Such winsome smiles!
Oh, lady, but I would not have them win
Sorrows as do the sunbeams, which receive
The damps and mist of earth.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
A riddle, sire!
King Robert.
I may not dare to give you what of ill
I, shamèd, have begotten; tho' the words
Wring all the father in my heart.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Your son!
Oh never fear but I will turn him to
Some sunrise transformation, give him gold
And purple of new manners.
King Robert.
Albany,
Speak; I beseech you speak.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
I am betroth'd;
You dare not break that vow.
Albany.
We've weigh'd the risk,
And needs must run it. Think you we dare lay
Upon the recent homage of your sire
The burthen of the shame that drags our house
Down to the very dust! It cannot be.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
I'll move him—plead with him.
Albany.
In any case,
The realm hath not assented. The Estates
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The binding word.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Oh, sire!
Albany.
It shall not be.
King Robert.
I pity you as only those can do
Who say of any grief 'tis not the first.
Albany
[to King Robert].
Wilt please you to withdraw?
King Robert.
Yes, yes. [To Elizabeth.]
One frost
Hurts not the spring. Be comforted; my son
Were an abiding blight.
Albany.
We'll straight descend.
[Exeunt.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
They cast across my hopes the blackest shades.
The storm must come. But now there's vacancy
Before all grief and anger. I believe
That I shall never hate, nor weep, nor know
All that has happen'd till I fly this place
Where suddenly my fate hath caught me round.
Escape I must.—I never thought of it—
That I was trembling. ... Oh, I dare not yet
Think of the downward steps.
[Enter the Earl of March.]
Earl of March.
My daughter! God!
Her wraith!—I come to find the king.—Art sick?
It cannot speak. She's mad.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Fath—er.
[Falls on his neck.
Earl of March.
My child,
What is 't? Oh, tell me you are sane, not sick,
Nor supernatural. I feel your tears
Scalding from life's red fires. These raging drops!
Oh, what an ocean swells!—You'd have mine ear?
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Re—ven—ge me!
Earl of March.
That I will, and to the death.
On whom?—Not yet! I'll wait. Within her throat
The child of anguish labours.
[Re-enter Women with flowers.]
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Oh!
[Faints.
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She'll die.
1st Woman.
Go to the well in haste.
[Exit 2nd Woman.
Earl of March.
Her poor lids gape,
Like the wild gates of a surprisèd town.
1st Woman.
Lady, you know me? I am Kate.
3rd Woman.
Look up.
Poor lady, are you better?
Earl of March.
Hold your peace.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Send them away, and all the blossoms too.
The storm abhors them. ... Just one rose to crush,
Red as his life.
[Re-enter 2nd Woman.]
2nd Woman.
O sir, it cannot be!
It is not true, it never can be true!
They say the prince ... O Kate! ... he's turn'd her off,
And chooses Marj'rie Douglas for his wife.
Earl of March.
Begone, you women folk.
[Exeunt.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
On Albany
Revenge me; on King Robert and ...
Earl of March.
Within
This fleshly scabbard I'm all sword. I'll break
From execrable homage, bear my wealth,
My armies, and my anger to the king
Of England.
[Enter Duchess Marjorie.]
Woman, will you dare to flaunt
Your triumph in the eyes of her defeat?
Her father ...
Duchess Marjorie.
O Elizabeth, believe—
This ring, this bond, first link upon the chain
That fetters all my days, should clasp your flesh
If I had will to work it. But you see
My honour's in this circle; this cold spell
Hath bound it in a sleep that Merlin's fay
Could whisper to no freedom. I have sworn
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Through all the burthen'd years, who have within
The rigid mind of chill virginity,
And am less wife than you whom bright desire
Hath thrill'd with promise. By your eyes I see
You will repay. Forgive me! Vengeance fall
Where it is due—upon the guilty heads
That hatch'd this treason.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
I shall never know
If you are faithless; but I hate the sight
Of your black face—the raven to my heart
That's dying at your sounds.
Earl of March.
God's light! You lie,
Cursed brat of Douglas, lie before my face,
That's lightning-furnished for the vengeful doom.
How came you married in this shameless haste,
Without a prick of liking?
Duchess Marjorie.
There is none.
No spirit haunts with heavenly surprise
Our wedded veins. My husband at the shrine
Took with averted head my idle hand.
Earl of March.
You would befool us. Hence, nor mock our wrath
With feign'd propitiation. Traitoress,
You come to buy our peace toward him you wed
At price of your own womanly reserve.
We spurn the secrets of your doorless breast.
Duchess Marjorie.
Henceforth 'tis shut for ever. Hell's black key
Nor Heaven's golden instrument shall e'er
Withdraw its bolts. I'll rust in sufferance
Cold as my heart and icy as my pain.
If you revenge—
Earl of March.
You'll join in our revenge?
Duchess Marjorie.
Never. Declare my rancour!—I'll be true,
True to the faithless boy, who even now
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That name I'll keep as white as is the band
On a nun's forehead.
Earl of March.
Get you to your pray'rs!
Elizabeth Dunbar.
Oh, I am cold!
Duchess Marjorie.
I'm sharper than the frost,
And silent too. If ever I forgive,
Spring will be come.
[Exit.
Elizabeth Dunbar.
My crown, my crown!
Earl of March.
I'll pour
The scorching embers of my rousèd ire
On the king's head. Thou'lt marry Percy's son,
The gallant Hotspur. We'll to England straight.
Cover your eyes, and lean upon my arm.
[Exeunt.
| The Father's Tragedy | |