University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

—Interior of William's Cottage.
Antoine and Bertha, discovered.
Ant.
Hark! 'tis his footsteps! where shall I hide me!
I cannot look upon my husband more.
No, he comes not. The lightning's not more sure
Of searing where it strikes, than is this tale
To wither up his heart. Oh, William! [Weeps]


Ber.
Sister be calm, I pray thee love, be calm.

Ant.
I will—as lies the wreck upon the treach'rous sea,—
Like to a bird asleep, but in a moment sinks
Into its yawning grave. I will be calm. [Horn sounds.]

Ah! that is his horn! where is the joyous thrill
Which at that sound did vibrate in my heart
Until my cheek did blush at mine own joy?
How chang'd, cold, cold as the death I sigh for!
My cheek burns as though a living story
Of my shame was written there so palbably
The veriest child might read it. [Horn sounds again.]

It tells him nearer; but no joy—no joy!

Ber.
I know not what to urge; these mighty griefs
O'erpower each feeble barrier love would stay
Their desolating course with. Sister be firm
Nor let my brother's misery be enlarged,
By deeming all is lost together.

Ant.
Aye!
The poison'd cup were better lost than tasted.
Oh my brain, my brain! it seems to snap and burn!

Ber.
Sister, dear sister!

Ant.
That's he! that's he!
I know him by the jewel in his cap.
Approach me not. I'll leap this precipice!
A serpent round me seems to wreath its coils
Where his accurs'd arms embraced me!
Are there no spots upon my cheek! I feel
His kisses burning here and here; his pois'nous breath
Still floats around my nostrils, would it could kill!

[Falls into chair.]
Ber.
Did not their fathers bless them, when they wedded?
But good men's prayers have lost their power.

Ant.
Who wedded? Ay, I was a bride but yesterday,
Where are the flowers they twin'd among my hair?
Gone! I'll gather others, or he I wedded
Will say I prize him not. [To Bertha.]
I should know this face?

Ber.
'Tis Bertha, thy loved companion, sister.

Ant.
Hark! heard ye not footsteps? no, no.
Do not tremble, girl; 'twas but my fancy.
But I have cause to dread a heavier tread
Than thine. And so thou art in love,
And would'st be wedded? I'll be your bridesmaid:
I'll gather weeds and nettles for thy braid,—no flowers;
They cradle wasps.

Ber.
This doth overpower my strength!

Ant.
(Sings.)
I forgot the rest—it tells of happiness,
No marvel that its memory is gone!

Ber.
Oh, my poor brother! thou wilt come anon
As one who watches for the home bound bark
That holds the treasured inmates of his heart,
And finds upon the beach a shattered wreck
To tell the mournful fate of those he loved!

Ant.
Austrian! I say I'm a Switzer's wife,
Who will not tamely brook a wrong like this!

Ber.
There is no Austrian here—none but thy Bertha!
There—lay thy burning brow upon my bosom
And we will seek the cool and fresh'ning air.

Ant.
Aye, to the peak! the loftiest peak that rears
Its head among the clouds—we can weep there
And none will mock our tears—Come William, come!
[William calls without “Antoine!”]
Ah! he calls my name and I dare not reply!

[Falls on the ground—William enters and stands horror stricken.]