 | Francis Beaumont |  |
Scene I.
—A prison.[Francis Beaumont alone.]
Francis.
The dagger found! Then but one hope remains!
Would she were come! Hark—
[The door is opened, and enter Clara Beaumont.]
Clara! Thank heaven!
[She takes his hand.]
Would she were come! Hark—
[The door is opened, and enter Clara Beaumont.]
Clara! Thank heaven!
O Clara, Clara!
I stand upon the brink of death—but you,
And you alone can save me.
I stand upon the brink of death—but you,
And you alone can save me.
Clara.
I? Oh, how?
55
But will you?
Clara.
Show me how 'tis possible,
And ask not if I will.
Francis.
Remember you
The night on which the horrid deed was done?
Clara.
I do.
Francis.
'Twas done past midnight, 'twixt the hours
Of one and two.
Clara.
The evidence went thus.
Francis.
And I was at that time, and long before,
Far from the spot, and could not have been there.
Clara.
Can this be proved?
Francis.
It can—it must be proved.
Clara.
By whom?
Francis.
By you! Nay—start not! Hear me—
And ponder well my words. You must remember
I went to bed that night about eleven;
You sat up very late, till one or two,
About some work; and 'twas impossible
I could have left my room unseen by you.
56
Alas! it was not so.
Francis.
I say, it was:
And, if you have forgotten, I remind you.
Stop—let me think—there was a picture, Clara,
You sat up late to finish, a Madonna—
You shake your head—I fear, your memory
Is weak; but let your courage be the stronger.
Clara.
What would you have me do?
Francis.
Depose to that,
Which, in my recollection, is the truth.
Clara.
But 'tis my own I swear by, not another's.
Francis.
And if 'twere false—
Clara.
O God!
Francis.
A sister's love
Might speak a word to save me.
Clara.
Francis, Francis!
Say, you are innocent; and I'll believe you,
Pray for you, bless you, suffer, die with you!
But this!—To sully my immortal soul
With perjury! To call upon my God
To witness falsehood, and in mockery
To bid him hurl his vengeance on my head!
You would not ask me this?
Francis.
Then I must die.
57
Is there no way but this?
Francis.
None, Clara; none.
Clara.
If you are innocent—
Francis.
What boots me not.
My enemies have cast a net around me.
Craft must be met by craft, and falsehood parried—
Clara.
By truth—
Francis.
It cannot be. Appearances
Are strong against me. Clara! could you bear
To live a convict's sister, and a thing
For scorn to point at?
Clara.
Better that, than live
To scorn myself.
Francis.
Oh! for our mother's sake!
Clara.
She would not have me do't.
Francis.
Upon my knees—
Clara.
Stoop not to me, but pray for strength to God:
And oh, if there be aught you should repent—
Francis.
You will not save me then! A brother's curse—
58
Hold! You will curse yourself!
[She grasps his arm. He shakes her off.]
Francis.
Hence from my sight,
Unnatural girl: begone!
Clara.
No! I will kneel
And you shall hear me. I who never pray'd
To any but my God, will pray to you,
My brother! Francis, 'tis your sister speaks.
Oh! think not of this hour, or of the next,
Or those which follow; for they are but shadows,
That crowded in a brief and narrow space
Shall in an instant vanish and be gone,
And you will wake from them, as from a dream,
To an eternal dread reality.
[The clock strikes.]
Francis.
Hark! 'tis the hour! O Clara, Clara, can you
Remember nothing?—Nothing?—I am lost.
[Enter the Gaoler.]
Prisoner, the bell has rung, and all is ready.
Lady, you must retire.
Francis.
But you'll be there—
Clara, you will be there!
Clara.
I will.
| Francis Beaumont | |