University of Virginia Library

SCENE XI.

Bellair, Lucy.
BELLAIR.
Now she's safe in my coach, on condition, I own,
Not flattering, sweet creature, to leave her alone.

LUCY
(peeping).
It is he.

BELLAIR.
Ah! if Lucy would only appear!
(Stoops to pick up a stone, and in the act to fling as Lucy comes out.)
O my Lucy!—mine angel!

LUCY.
Why is he so dear?

BELLAIR.
Is it true? From that face am I evermore banished?
In your love was the dream of my life! Is it vanished?
Have you pledged to another your hand and your heart?

LUCY.
Not my heart. Oh, not that.

BELLAIR.
But your hand? By what art,
By what force, are you won heart and hand to dissever,
And consent to loathed nuptials that part us for ever?

LUCY.
Would that pain you so much?

BELLAIR.
Can you ask? Oh, believe me,
You're my all in the world!

LUCY.
I am told you deceive me;
That you harbour designs which my lips dare not name,
And your words full of honour veil thoughts full of shame.
Ah, sir! I'm so young and so friendless—so weak!
Do not ask for my heart if you take it to break.

BELLAIR.
Who can slander me thus? Not my friend, I am sure.

LUCY.
His friend!

BELLAIR.
Can my love know one feeling impure
When I lay at your feet all I have in this life—
Wealth and rank, name and honour—and woo you as wife?

LUCY.
As your wife! All about you seems so much above
My mean lot—

BELLAIR.
And so worthless compared to your love.
You reject, then, this suitor?—my hand you accept?

LUCY.
Ah! but do you not see in what prison I'm kept?
And this suitor—

BELLAIR.
You hate him!

LUCY.
Till this day, say rather—

BELLAIR.
What?

LUCY.
I loved him.

BELLAIR.
You loved!

LUCY.
As I might a grandfather.
He has shielded the orphan;—I had not a notion
That he claimed from me more than a grandchild's devotion!
And my heart ceased to beat between terror and sorrow
When he said he would make me his wife, and tomorrow.

BELLAIR.
Fly with me, and at once!

LUCY.
She has locked the street-door.

BELLAIR.
And my angel's not made to jump down from that floor.
Listen—quick; I hear voices:—I save you; this night
I arrange all we need both for wedlock and flight.
At what time after dark does your she-dragon close
Her sweet eyes, and her household consign to repose?

LUCY.
About nine in this season of winter. What then?

BELLAIR.
By the window keep watch. When the clock has struck ten
A slight stone smites the casement;—below I attend.
You will see a safe ladder; at once you descend.
We then reach your new home, priest and friends shall be there,
Proud to bless the young bride of Sir Sidney Bellair.
Hush! the steps come this way; do not fail! She is won.
(Exit Bellair.)

LUCY.
Stay;—I tremble as guilty. Heavens! what have I done?