University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

—MRS. DELMAR'S APARTMENT, AS BEFORE.
(Laura and Florence.)
LAURA.
She mentions not this slander. If unknown,
Oh, may she never know it; but defeat
Malice with ignorance. Now to test her love!
(Aside.)
Leave England, and no farewell words for friends!

FLORENCE.
Our journey's plan was sudden.

LAURA.
To forget
Thy friend at such a time too! No concern
Felt in her coming nuptials—question none
Whether her will goes with them!

FLORENCE.
Doubt of that
I trust were wrong to you.—She can't design
To mock me with her triumph. (Aside.)
And the happy
Need not be told their bliss.

LAURA.
Thou'rt sure I'm happy?

FLORENCE.
I'd think so.

LAURA.
Very happy!—On my brow
Shall the mine's planets cluster! Affluence
Shall make my whims despotic—luxury
Shall first exhaust my wants; then new create
To satisfy again. My rival's eyes
Shall be my splendour's mirrors. Who would pine
For husband's love whose liberal hand gives this.

FLORENCE.
For husband's love?

LAURA.
Or even waste a thought
On this unseemly change?

FLORENCE.
Change!

LAURA.
Ay; beyond
All precedent of metamorphosis.
A reveller who greets the amber dawn
With cheeks the midnight riot hath inflamed—

FLORENCE.
Why do you tell me this—why?

LAURA.
Nay, a gamester
Who squanders nightly at the feverish board
The wealth had smooth'd Care's rugged couch for years.

FLORENCE.
And you can speak it calmly?

LAURA.
I might grieve,
Could sorrow ought avail—ay, weep that lips
I once deemed tuned to virtue now should chime
In the dull scoffer's chorus.

FLORENCE.
Yet you wed?

LAURA.
The picture has its bright side—fortune, power.

FLORENCE.
Disgrace and guilt! I cannot fix the thought. (Aside).


LAURA.
Methinks you stint a bride-expectant's dues;
Congratulations, hopes!

(She rises and takes Florence by the hand.)
FLORENCE.
Farewell!

LAURA.
Farewell—
Thou wayward child! What would'st thou?

FLORENCE.
Madam, nothing.

LAURA.
Hast nought to ask—to utter—ere I go
Is there no boon? Well!

FLORENCE.
None. Yes, one thing—save him!
Oh, save him—save him!

(With sudden emotion as Laura is going.)
LAURA.
He's in peril then?

FLORENCE.
His heart—his peace are perilled!

LAURA
(tenderly).
If they be—
Such evils lie not in my scope of cure,
What can I do?

FLORENCE.
What do! What could'st thou not—
His honour for thine impulse—drain the wealth
Of all thy soul in gracious deeds to buy
His spirit's ransom? In thy nature shrine
So much of good that when he loves thee most
He needs must most love goodness for thy sake.
Desist not; faint not; for thy mighty prize
Count patience dross! Should he upbraid thee, hope!
Repel thee—hope! neglect thee—hope, still hope,
And with the tireless constancy of love
Knock at the sleeping virtue in his heart,
Till it awake and hail thee! Oh, be sure
Beauty less triumphs in a world of slaves
Than in one heart she raises and reclaims!

LAURA.
Yes, this is love! (Aside.)


FLORENCE.
Oh, did'st thou know, like me,
What lofty tones sleep in those chords which now
Harsh folly jars! If o'er his head had met
In one fell constellation all ill stars,
And poured at once their pitiless vials down—
Scorn, sickness, poverty—I could have borne it;
But thus in self degraded! Oh, what shame
Like that which cankers self respect! What death
Like that which sears the heart and makes the frame
An animated tomb!

LAURA.
Florence, I'll save him,
If there be power in effort!

FLORENCE.
Bless thee—bless thee!

(As Florence is about to kneel, Laura raises her to her bosom.)
LAURA.
'Tis I should kneel to thee, my friend—my sister!
Be withered hand ere falsely joined to his
Was pledged to hers. And yet a brother's ruin!
No other hope! (Aside.)
Sweet, we must meet again.
Thou'lt promise this?

FLORENCE.
I do.

LAURA.
Farewell!

FLORENCE.
Remember!

(Laura goes out. Florence sits as in abstraction.)