University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE SECOND.

Duke D'Ormond, Marchioness de Mielcour, Julia, Courtenaye, and Despard.
[Enter to the Duke, and the Marchioness, silently, and from behind a folding screen, which intercepts the sight of them from the two first named persons, to the very spot where the Duke fancied that he had seen Julia, Julia herself, Courtenaye, and Despard.]
DUKE D'ORMOND
(to the Marchioness).
DOST thou not see her there?—

[Hides his face with his hands. Julia meanwhile feels overcome: she makes an effort to dart forward to the

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Duke, and sinks at his feet. A long silence and general embarrassment ensue. At last, as the Marchioness perceives that the Duke remains fixed in his posture, clenching his hands over his eyes, and Julia almost motionless on the ground, though once or twice she raises her eyes with somewhat of an appealing look to the Duke, and as the Marchioness begins to guess who she is, she beckons to Courtenaye and Despard to assist her in removing either the Duke or Julia to another room: but though these gentlemen wish to restrain Julia so far as to prevent her and the Duke from understanding each other, and therefore are anxious to keep her in a sort of side play with themselves, and are alarmed at the present crisis, when she had, as it were, escaped from their grasp, yet as the project of the Marchioness would utterly defeat their schemes, they affect not to understand her.]
MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR,
(To Courtenaye).
One,—one of them remove! Let him not see her.

COURTENAYE
(aside to Despard).
Not see her!—But he shall!—

MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR,
Look, look at him!
At her!—Ye wretches, it appears to you
A feast,—this spectacle of misery!

[While she speaks, Julia, looking up, without changing her kneeling or recumbent posture, slowly and gently raises one hand, and is about to take that of the Duke.]
DUKE D'ORMOND
(starting).
Touch me not! touch me not! Touch not pollution.

JULIA,
(Casting a fearful gaze around the room, towards the Marchioness, and Courtenaye, and Despard).
Ill is he? Are ye not his friends?

MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR.
He is
Very ill, madam. And as I infer
From your deportment, that himself and you
Have been ere now acquainted, and since deep
May be the interest you feel for him,
And he for you, I do entreat of you
Now to withdraw into another room,
Or with these gentlemen, or me, as he
Is far too ill now to be taxed with conflict.

JULIA.
D'Ormond! 'Tis Julia now addresses you;
Do you not know her voice? If but one word,
I do conjure you, speak.

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Am I in hell?—
Off, off! terrific vision!—

COURTENAYE
(aside to Despard).
Yes, it works,—
The poison works as we could wish it.

JULIA,
(Looking fearfully towards Maria).
Has he
Been long ill, madam? I entreat of you
This mystery to unravel. I cannot
Thus leave him.

DUKE D'ORMOND.
But you shall! Some one must leave me.
I am beset, haunted, tormented!—No!
No, no!—It is myself that haunt myself!—
I am myself my own fierce tormentor!—
Angelic creature!

MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR,
(Seizing Julia by the wrist, and making an effort to separate her from D'Ormond).
Madam, come with me.
Let us withdraw.

COURTENAYE,
(Going up to Despard, and pointing to Julia).
Do you say something to her.
No matter what it is, so it be done
With air of an established intercourse.

DESPARD.
I understand you! Thank you for the hint.

[Despard goes up to Julia, and affects to speak in her ear with the familiarity of an old friend.]
COURTENAYE,
(Now going up to D'Ormond).
Be more a man!
[Pointing to Despard and Julia.]
You see who she is with.
What? Break your heart for mistress of another!

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Curse on thy tongue! Surely all hell is turned
Loose upon me!—This am I to endure!—
(To Julia).
False woman, quit my sight!—For ever quit
My sight!—For ever be thou banished!—
(To the Marchioness.)
Here!—
Here my sole haven is of lasting peace.
Let us retire.

[He embraces the Marchioness, and then retires with her.]
COURTENAYE,
(To Julia, who advances, though hesitatingly, to follow the Duke).
Nay, madam, stay here! You
See he is ill. If you will be more calm,
I will repair to him, and bring you word
Of his condition.

JULIA.
Nay, but I will follow.

COURTENAYE.
If you provoke me thus, so it must be!—
I must command here! Despard, you assist
To move this lady to another place.

[They each take a hand of Julia, and forcibly drag her out of the room.]
(The Marchioness re-entering, followed by the Duke D'Ormond).
MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR.
What noise was that? They're gone!—

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Could I believe this?
That Julia! That angelic, spotless Julia;
To come, with her unhallowed paramour,
To insult me to my face?—But stop, perchance,
This is but the fulfilment of my dream.
This what was meant by her prefigured death!
For now she's dead to me, quite dead! Can I
Believe this to be so?—

MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR.
Believe this? No!—
Look at her face, and you cannot believe it!—
Hear her speak once, and you cannot believe it!
Her gestures see, and you cannot believe it.
There must be some mistake! I did not know
She was in Paris: never heard her name
Either by Courtenaye or by Despard mentioned.
And yet a confidential intercourse
'Twixt her and Despard seems establish'd.

DUKE D'ORMOND.
No!—
It is not possible! The universe,
If she no longer virtuous prove herself
Is but a splendid system of imposture.

(Enter Courtenaye).
COURTENAYE.
Galling enough!—Here Despard and I brought
His mistress here, thinking by this to set
Your mind at ease: thinking that seeing thus
How the affair stood 'twixt him, and that lady
Without compunction, and without reserve,
You might the more resign yourself to love,
To pleasure, and this lady. Thus it is:—
Whenever you most try to serve your friends,
You oft produce effects quite opposite
To those which you wish to achieve, by some
Unlucky contre tems or blunder.

MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR.
Still
The interview was very ill-advised,
Just at this moment. So abrupt! so sudden!

COURTENAYE
(aside to the Marchioness).
Hush! Hush! I have my reasons! But not now.
Another time I will explain them.

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Have
I in the world a friend? Realities
Are th' individuals round me, or the mere
Coinage of my distempered brain? Alas,
Nought seems to go on as 'twas wont to do.
No man's deportment longer seems to me
Spontaneous or befitting. I could fancy
That every one around me played a part;
And that I, as designed to be their victim,
Am the only one, of motives ignorant
Which actuate the agents I observe,
In one conspiracy 'gainst me.

COURTENAYE.
Tush, tush!—
A truce with your self-teazing phantasies!
Your pretty country mistress, innocent,
Religious, dutiful, although she seemed,
Has only, in the end, turned out to be,
What all such paragons of excellence
Are, a mere flirt, and hypocrite.—For you,—
'Tis well you have, in time, the truth discovered!—

[A violent scream is heard from the next apartment.]
JULIA
(within).
I will—yes—I will see him! Though I must
Die at his feet.

[The Duke D'Ormond goes up to the door through which Julia had been dragged by Courtenaye and Despard, and finds it locked.]
DUKE D'ORMOND.
Who—who has dared do this?—
There's treachery here. Open this door, or I
Will burst the lock.

JULIA
(from within).
D'Ormond!

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Oh, let me hear
Your voice!

[While the Duke is endeavouring to force the door, Courtenaye skulks behind him and unlocks it, but not unperceived by the Marchioness.]
MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR.
Miserable villain! In my house such freedoms!—

[The Duke brings in Julia, who looks wildly about the room, and is apparently quite unconscious of the objects near her.]
JULIA.
Was this well done? Here, here I came alone!
My mother I have buried! There, there, there,
[Pointing to the ground.]
I laid her there! Her coffin I beheld
As it sunk slow in earth! The creaking ropes
I heard, as gradually it disappeared!
The earth and stones I also heard, as they
Were on its surface cast! But then I thought
Of D'Ormond! Else, I should have fainted! Oh!
It was a wicked thought!

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Julia! My love?—
Julia.

JULIA.
That voice! Before I've listened to it!—
And it was silver sweet! Oft in my dreams
I have heard it! Ah! then sleep to me was welcome!
But Julia never now must slumber more!

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Demons of hell! Behold, what have you done!
(To Julia, leading her to a sofa).
Sit, sit,—my love! My blessed Julia, 'tis
D'Ormond who speaks to you! See, see—he kneels
Before you!
(To the Marchioness, who seems much affected.)
Come here! you have yet, at least,
I see, a woman-hearted feeling. Help me!—
Try to recal her wandering thoughts.

MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR.
Indeed
I would do any thing, sir, every thing!
My heart bleeds both for you, and for this lady.
(To Courtenaye and Despard).
For you, ye wretches, it were honouring you
Too much, to waste a curse upon you.

[The Marchioness advances towards Julia, and in endeavouring to cause her to recline on some of the cushions of the sofa, which, for that purpose, she had previously piled at one end of it, as Julia's posture is changed, a miniature which is fastened round her neck, and which was concealed in her bosom, escapes from its confinement; Courtenaye, who, with Despard, is looking over the back of the sofa, appears much struck with it, and fixes his eyes intently upon it.]
COURTENAYE.
'Tis,
By all the saints, my mother! This must be
Her picture! What may be this lady's name?—

JULIA.
That voice is gone! Where am I? Round and round
My head whirls! Hark! What horrid voice is that
I hear? Speak—speak—say would ye murder me?—
Alone, unfriended, on his love relying,
Did I not come here? But I have been used
Most vilely. Into wicked hands I've fallen!—
They told me he was false, another loved!—
Meanwhile confiding, trusting in his truth,
And her own innocence, she cast herself,
Yes, his poor Julia, she cast herself
Into this populous city, and here,—here,—
Have I insulted been.

DUKE D'ORMOND.
My Julia! Julia!—
It is thine own dear D'Ormond.

JULIA.
Yes! I know it!—
I know thy voice now! I am well, quite well!—

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Oh ecstacy! Ah Julia!—my own Julia!—

JULIA.
Ah D'Ormond! What I've suffered you know not!—
My mother! my dear mother!—

DUKE D'ORMOND.
What of her?—

[Julia hides her face in her handkerchief. D'Ormond now first observes her mourning garments, and the miniature lying in her bosom.]
DUKE D'ORMOND.
Ah, spare your words! She is—I understand you—
These mourning weeds.—

COURTENAYE,
(Who all this time had been lost in amazement and curiosity).
Her name? What is her name?—

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Whose name? Why are you thus inquisitive?—

COURTENAYE.
This lady's mother's! Her's whose portrait here
This lady honours thus.

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Her name is Villeneuve.
She is the daughter of my father's sister!

COURTENAYE.
Almighty God, she is my sister!

ALL,
(Excepting Julia, whose countenance resumes all its bewilderment, and becomes expressive of relapsing insanity).
Yours!—
Your sister?—

COURTENAYE.
Yes, my name by birth is Villeneuve!
Though I have changed it for another. She
My sister is.

JULIA
(starting wildly from the sofa).
Who talked of sister? No!
No, no! 'Tis D'Ormond that I want. I have
No brother, mother, friend!—I have lost all.

DUKE D'ORMOND
(to Courtenaye).
Be on your guard! See what you've done! Do you,
Marchioness, draw him hence.

[The Marchioness beckons Courtenaye apart; they walk towards the interior of the apartment, Despard hanging on their rear.]
JULIA.
Is it then come
To this? For him I kept myself alive!—
When I have watched, daily, and hourly watched,
The dying look, and the decaying form,
Of my revered, and venerable mother;
And when I recollected that I had,
When she went, not a friend on earth, I should
Have also died had I not thought of D'Ormond.
He is to Julia the whole universe!—
And the whole universe speaks, breathes of nought
To her, but him! Sometimes, I think I see him,
But it is only in a shadowy dream,
Which, with the semblance of reality,
But mocks me! No, 'twixt him and me, there is
Fixed an impassable gulph! I feel it here.
Here—here!
[Putting her hand alternately to her head and her heart.]
(To the Duke, who makes an attempt to speak to her).
Do not look so at me! Talk not
To me! You only mock me! You are like,
But you are not the same.

DUKE D'ORMOND,
(Still supporting Julia, but turning aside to that part of the room where the Marchioness is).
Do one of you
Come here, and take my place! I cannot bear it!—
Each word she utters stabs my very vitals!
E'en worse than she herself soon shall I be!

[The Marchioness advances to support Julia, with a look of the deepest concern and sympathy.]
JULIA,
(As she approaches, and as the Duke is about to disengage himself from her).
Off—off—no one shall touch me but himself.
(To the Duke).
You should be D'Ormond! But you are not he!
My once beloved D'Ormond! There's a likeness!—
And for that likeness' sake, no one of you
Shall touch me but himself. I love you e'en
For that resemblance! But the real D'Ormond
And Julia must be wedded in the grave!—
Fearful thoughts have I!—fearful visions!

DUKE D'ORMOND.
Hell,
Canst thou have agonies surpassing this!—
Julia, my Julia, my own Julia!—
Oh, God of mercy, straining to my heart,
Here am I, all that that heart most adores!
But I have made a sacrifice of her!—
And now, although our forms be intertwined,
An insurmountable impediment
Is raised between us!—We no longer live
In the same world!—

JULIA
(catching his last words).
Oh, but we do! There is
No world for me to live in where he is not!—
In every beating of my heart he lives!—
But soft—bad thoughts will peradventure rise
When one, like me, is ill.
[Disengaging her hand.]
About a knife,
I think, I somewhat recollect! There was
A mad girl, who lived near my mother's house,
Who had a knife, a wicked knife!—
[Putting her hand in her pocket.]
You look
Kind, and as if you fain would serve me. Keep,
I pray you, this! Keep it for my poor sake!
[Giving him a knife.]
They say a knife is an unlucky gift!—
But ah, what gift of mine would not be so?—
Now pray keep that, and think of me! This picture,
I cannot part with that! or I would give
That to you also! No, no, that must be
Buried with me! Here! For my sake, keep these!
[Producing a few trinkets, and a worked handkerchief, and giving the former to the Duke.]
That handkerchief was formerly designed
For D'Ormond, as a fond memorial! See,
How carefully I have embroidered it!—
Here, with my hair, are his initials marked.

[Bursts into a flood of tears.]
MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR.
These tears! Grant heaven they might relieve her! What
Wretches, good God, are we! Trifling away
In inconsiderate and unmeaning passions,
(To say the best of them, we cannot give
To them a higher epithet) our time,
While this divine, self-sacrificing creature,
Little by little, and uncomforted,
Was dying our unconscious victim. When
I think of it, I hate myself to loathing.

DESPARD
(to Courtenaye).
Well acted, on my honour! If she turn
Preacher, who says that miracles have ceased?

COURTENAYE
(to Despard).
Hold that blaspheming tongue of thine! This is
An hour for cursing rather than such mummery!

[Julia, who has continued weeping all this time, now casts a look of ineffable sweetness for a moment towards D'Ormond.]
DUKE D'ORMOND.
Beloved creature! Look thou ever thus!
This is thy D'Ormond! Come, sit down again!—
Try to be tranquil! All will yet be well.
(Turning to the Marchioness).
This lady will to you be as a sister!—
Maria, will you not?—

MARCHIONESS DE MIELCOUR.
Oh, that I were
Worthy of that!—I am for life her convert!—
A name for me more suited than the other!

COURTENAYE.
What canting have we here? We may as well
Go hang ourselves.

DESPARD.
Aye, hang, drown, poison, shoot;—
Or any thing methinks! What think you now
Of your manœuvring?

COURTENAYE.
Think? I am too mad
To think! I'm quite sick of the part I take!—
That's all I know!

JULIA.
This, this is the true D'Ormond!—
Now is our bridal hour come. I engaged
I would be true to you! See, see, from earth
He rises! To the skies he beckons me.—
Ah, this is he indeed! He is but gone
Before me; and invites me to his arms!—
My love is not a love of mortal mould!—
He is a blessed, ethereal spirit! Now!—
This is the hour! I hear his voice! I come!
D'Ormond I come! Of everlasting union
Thus I invoke the sacramental pledge!

[Sinks down on her knees. The Duke and the Marchioness each rush forward towards her, she faints; and while the curtain slowly falls, they bear her, in a state of insensibility, out of the apartment.]