University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

Inside of a Shepherd's Cot.
Old Shepherd. Wife. Elenor dressed in clean russet attire.—To them enter March and Shepherd.
Mar.
Peace to this cot, and every honest heart
That beats within it! Heaven's peace be with you!

Old Shep.
The same to you, sir.

Mar.
An earnest curiosity impels me
To view, unknown, this jovial hunter train
That live pavillion'd on the dark Badlewe,
And chace the mountain deer. Meeting your son,
He proffer'd me a suit of shepherd's weeds,
Which I long much to prove.

(Here March discovers Elenor, who sinks own, and leans to the side-scene.)
Mar.
O, everlasting shame! The blasting truth
Bursts on my view, and all my hopes are past!—
And thou, old dreg of sin! who could have judged
Thou wert a pander?

Old Shep.
A pander? What is that, please you, sir?

Mar.
Hast thou not for a guilty poor reward,
At peril of thy soul and heaven's curse,
Lodged in thy cot this most unhappy girl,
In fair connivance with a certain lord?
O, thou old gangrene, thou shalt smart for this!

Shep.
What is't you say, sir? one such other word
In the same style to that old man, who is
My father, or to that young beauteous dame,
Who lately here sought shelter, and I'll lay
You flat as that same hearth you stand upon—
Mark that.

Mar.
Tell me then calmly, where you found this minx,
This shame of maidhood and nobility?
Who brought her hither?

Shep.
'Twas I, sir;—how doth that concern your pride?

Mar.
Calmly, I say—where did you find her?

Shep.
I found her in the wild, fled from the scorn
Of cold indifference, from guilt and shame;
Weeping she sat within a little dell,
Her bright tears trickling on the sward—her sighs
So deep and soft mix'd with the passing winds,
Till the old birch that waved above her head
Seem'd weeping too.

Mar.
Weeping alone! and fled from guilt and shame!
There is a tone of feeling there, that seems
To sound in unison with every chord
That vibrates round this fond corroded heart.
(He pauses, and looks at her affectionately. She lifts her eyes fearfully, and withdraws them.)
Wilt thou not speak, my lost lamented Elen?
Look but that look again, and say, “My father!”
And this fond heart that yearns o'er thee will melt.

Omnes.
Her father!—

(She weeps.)
Mar.
Nay, this I cannot bear—Come to my heart;
For though thy stains were of the Ethiop's hue,
Thou art my daughter still! These tears of thine
Bespeak thy mind unseared.

(He embraces her.)
Elen.
O, my indulgent parent, do not! do not!
Nor kiss me, nor embrace me: I'm a stain
To thee and thine! This kindness wounds more deep
Than would thy anger and most stern reproach.

Shep.
I am very glad to see you, sir; right glad
That you are come. Do you remember, once
I told you something of a wronged daughter?

Mar.
Yes, I remember; and I now perceive
Thy virtuous kindness.—Blessing on thy head!

Shep.
You found me raving, sir; it was of Elen.
Now you and I shall bring that lord to reason.

Mar.
Yes, I'll go with thee, shepherd: No disguise
I now shall need—my way's perceptible:
Where it may terminate is hid from view;
But this I know, there is no other one.
Tell o'er thy injuries, I yearn to hear them.

(To Elenor.)
Shep.
O spare her heart; I know them all, and will
Recount them by the way. Suppose the worst—
Muster up each abhorrent degradation
That guilt may frame, or heart of fiend can hatch,
And still you're far, far short of Elen's wrongs.

Mar.
If I find not redress, there is no rule
In this bad world; and heaven smiles indignant
At all the petty feuds and woes of man.
Lead on, good shepherd.

Elen.
O best of parents, let me beg of thee;
Yes, on my knees I'll beg—Go not to-day.
What can thy suit avail—when all the floods
That roll their crystal torrents to the main,
And fountains of the everlasting deep;
Nay, all the blood of his licentious race
Can ne'er wash out my stain?—Stay till your rage
Is calmed and softened into reason.

Mar.
Yes, I'll be calm as night; but it shall be
The calmness of a winter evening,
Which shifting winds may rouse into a tempest.
Comfort thee, Elen: In a cause like this
'Tis vain to sue.

(Exeunt Shepherd & March.)
Elen.
O, my foreboding mind!—
There was a time when heart could not have deem'd
That I was born a curse to all my race!

(Exit.)