University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

—A Chamber in Lord Raymond's Castle.
Enter Lady Jane, R. D., alarmed; she goes to the window, through which the conflagration of Walter's Cottage is visible.
Lady J.
Poor Walter's cottage burn'd! I do suspect
Some vile incendiary. His daughter, too,
The lovely Jane, distracted!
Good heavens! that misery should overtake
The virtuous in this world, while villany
Escapes the rod, and laughs at innocence!
Francis, come hither.

Enter Francis, L. D.
Fra.
(L.)
Did you call, my lady?

Lady J.
(R).

I did, good Francis. Take this purse
of gold, and hasten with it to relieve poor Walter.

Fra.

Ay, marry will I, my lady, in a moment; and
do you only look out at the window, if you please, and
see how nimbly I will run across the lawn. I am an
old man, 'tis true; yet, in a good cause, I can run as
fast as a grayhound. But I'm glad you've given over
all thoughts of the nunnery.

Lady J.

Lose not a moment, Francis, but begone.

Fra.

Ay, that I will, my lady. I'll run—I'll fly—I'll
—But you'll not forget to look out at the window,
and see me run along. I've got a tremendous long
flight of steps to go down before I reach the lawn; yet,
in a good cause, I shall very soon be at the bottom of it.

[Exit, running, L. D.
Enter Lord Raymond, in breathless haste, R. D.
Lord R.
The deed is done, and no one knows of it!

Lady J.
[Overhearing him, and coming forward, L.]
If you've done evil, brother, rest assur'd
That there is One, whose penetrating eye
Pierces the inmost secrets of the soul,
And sees where all besides himself are blind.

Lord R.
Sister, I'll not be school'd. Hence to thy chamber!

[Crosses to L.
Lady J.
(R.)
Yet say, what hast thou done, my dearest brother?

Lord R.
(L.)
A deed which hell devis'd, yet heaven look'd on,
And saw me execute; therefore, a deed of fate.

Lady J.
May heaven pardon thee, whate'er it be!
I have observ'd of late thy alter'd temper:
You were once mild, affectionate, and kind;
Now your eye rolls with passion's angry fire,
Filling your sister's soul with anguish. Say,
What troubles you, my brother? Speak, I pray.

Lord R.
[Affectionately taking her hand.]
Thou art a good girl, Jane; thy brother feels
Thy worth, and yet he never can disclose,
Not e'en to thee, the secret griefs that wring
His tortur'd breast, and goad him on to madness.
Men of strong passions are the toys of fate,—
The tools of hell! That I am what I am,
Lies in my blood; else why do flames rage here?
While other virtuous souls are cold as ice,
Why doth this eye speak such terrific language?
This aching heart teem with infernal thoughts?
Did I create myself? No—no!—'Tis fate!
Laugh, demons, if ye will! I, too, can laugh
At poor impotent man—Ha! ha! ha! ha!
Vice is a giant—Virtue a poor dwarf!
Else would she crush her daring adversary;
Not let him range, to damn, without control,
That precious jewel, man's immortal soul!

[Crosses to R.
Enter Old Francis, L. D.
Fra.
[To Lady Jane.]

My lady, I am sorry to say I
cannot find old Walter anywhere: his cottage has been
burned to the ground, and he has wandered thence distracted.

Lady J.
(C.)
Go, try again—make due inquiry;
Give him the money to relieve his wants.

Lord R.
Give Walter money!—Give him poison rather!
[Aside.]
Have I for this done such a ruthless deed,
To place him in my power? Give me the purse.

Fra.
[Quickly hiding it.]

I'll fetch it, my lord. [Aside.]

If I do, I wish I may tumble from the top of the staircase
to the bottom of it!

[Exit, L. D.
Lord R.

To be thus thwarted! Oh, malicious fate!

Lady J.

His look appals me. Heaven have mercy
on him!

[Exit, R. S. E.
Re-enter Old Francis in haste, L. D.
Fra.

My lord, the people are all in an uproar; they
cry, “Death to Lord Raymond!” Young Henry is returned
from the wars, and leads the noisy crew.

Lord R.

'Tis false, thou drivelling liar! Henry's
dead!

[Loud shouts without.
Fra.

There, I told you so!—Now you'll very soon get
at the bottom of it.

[Exit.
Lord R.
Henry alive! Then all is lost for ever!
Yet, why despair? Come forth, my sword! I'll meet
Barefac'd rebellion with determin'd front,—
Outdare the bully, and e'en death defy!
For undisturb'd I'll live, or bravely die!

[Exit, L. S. E.