Comic Tragedies Part 7

Adrian. I have saved her once again,--but oh, this deathlike faintness stealing o'er me robs me of my strength. Thou art safe, Leonore, and I am content. [_Falls fainting._]

[_Enter_ Leonore.

Leonore. They are gone. Ah, what has chanced? I heard his voice, and now 'tis still as death. Where is my friend? G.o.d grant he be not hurt! I'll venture forth and seek him [_sees_ Adrian _unconscious before her_]. Oh, what is this? Adrian, kind friend, dost thou not hear me? There is blood upon his hand! Can he be dead? No, no! he breathes, he moves; this mask, I will remove it,--surely he will forgive.

[_Attempts to unmask him; he prevents her._

Adrian [_reviving_]. Nay, nay; it must not be. I am better now. The blow but stunned me,--it will pa.s.s away. And thou art safe?

Leonore. I feared not for myself, but thee. Come, rest thee here, thy wound is bleeding; let me bind it with my kerchief, and bring thee wine.

Let me serve thee who hath done so much for me. Art better now! Can I do aught else for thee?

Adrian. No more, dear lady. Think not of me, and listen while I tell thee of the dangers that surround thee. Count Rodolpho knows thou art here, and may return with men and arms to force thee hence. My single arm could then avail not, though I would gladly die for thee. Where then can I lead thee,--no place can be too distant, no task too hard for him whose joy it is to serve thee.

Leonore. Alas! I know not. I dare not seek my home while Count Rodolpho is my foe; my servants would be bribed,--they would betray me, and thou wouldst not be there to save. Adrian, I have no friend but thee. Oh, pity and protect me!

Adrian. Most gladly will I, dearest lady. Thou canst never know the joy thy confidence hath wakened in my heart. I will save and guard thee with my life. I will guide thee to a peaceful home where no danger can approach, and only friends surround thee. Thy Louis dwelt there once, and safely mayst thou rest till danger shall be past. Will this please thee?

Leonore. Oh, Adrian, thou kind, true friend, how can I tell my grat.i.tude, and where find truer rest than in _his_ home, where gentle memories of him will lighten grief. Then take me there, and I will prove my grat.i.tude by woman's fondest friendship, and my life-long trust.

Adrian. Thanks, dear lady. I need no other recompense than the joy 'tis in my power to give thee. I will watch faithfully above thee, and when thou needest me no more, I'll leave thee to the happiness thy gentle heart so well deserves. Now rest, while I seek out old Norna, and prepare all for our flight. The way we have to tread is long and weary.

Rest thee, dear lady.

Leonore. Adieu, dear friend. I will await thee ready for our pilgrimage, and think not I shall fail or falter, though the path be long, and dangers gather round us. I shall not fear, for thou wilt be there. G.o.d bless thee, Adrian.

[_Tableau._

CURTAIN.

SCENE TWELFTH.

[_Room in the castle of_ Louis.

Leonore _singing to her lute._]

The weary bird mid stormy skies, Flies home to her quiet nest, And 'mid the faithful ones she loves, Finds shelter and sweet rest.

And thou, my heart, like to tired bird, Hath found a peaceful home, Where love's soft sunlight gently falls, And sorrow cannot come.

Leonore. 'Tis strange that I can sing, but in this peaceful home my sorrow seems to change to deep and quiet joy. Louis seems ever near, and Adrian's silent acts of tenderness beguile my solitary hours, and daily grow more dear to me. He guards me day and night, seeking to meet my slightest wish, and gather round me all I hold most dear. [_Enter a_ Page.] Angelo, what wouldst thou?

Page. My master bid me bring these flowers and crave thee to accept them lady.

Leonore. Bear him my thanks, and tell him that his gift is truly welcome. [_Exit_ Page.] These are the blossoms he was gathering but now upon the balcony; he hath sent the sweetest and the fairest [_a letter falls from the nosegay_]. But what is here? He hath never sent me aught like this before [_opens and reads the letter_].

Dearest Lady,--Wilt thou pardon the bold words I here address to thee, and forgive me if I grieve one on whom I would bestow only the truest joy. In giving peace to thy heart I have lost mine own. I was thy guide and comforter, and soon, unknown to thee, thy lover. I love thee, Leonore, fondly and truly; and here I ask, wilt thou accept the offering of a heart that will forever cherish thee. If thou canst grant this blessed boon, fling from the cas.e.m.e.nt the white rose I send thee; but if thou canst not accept my love, forgive me for avowing it, and drop the cypress bough I have twined about the rose. I will not pain thee to refuse in words,--the mournful token is enough. Ask thine own heart if thou, who hast loved Louis, can feel aught save friendship for the unknown, nameless stranger, who through life and death is ever Thy loving Adrian.

Oh, how shall I reply to this,--how blight a love so tender and so true?

I have longed to show my grat.i.tude, to prove how I have revered this n.o.ble friend. The hour has come when I may make his happiness, and prove my trust. And yet my heart belongs to Louis, and I cannot love another.

Adrian was his friend; he loved him, and confided me to him. n.o.bly hath he fulfilled that trust, and where could I find a truer friend than he who hath saved me from danger and from death, and now gives me the power to gladden and to bless his life. Adrian, if thou wilt accept a sister's love and friendship, they shall be thine. Louis, forgive me if I wrong thee; for though I yield my hand, my heart is thine forever. This rose, Adrian, to thee; this mournful cypress shall be mine in memory of my blighted hopes [_goes to the_ _window and looks out_]. See! he is waiting yonder by the fountain for the token that shall bring him joy or sorrow. Thou n.o.ble friend, thy brave, true heart shall grieve no longer, for thus will Leonore repay the debt of grat.i.tude she owes thee [_flings the rose from the window_]. He hath placed it in his bosom, and is coming hither to pour forth his thanks for the poor gift bestowed. I will tell him all, and if he will accept, then I am his.

[_Enter_ Adrian _with the rose_.

Adrian. Dear lady, how can I tell thee the joy thou hast given me. This blessed flower from thy dear hand hath told thy pardon and consent. Oh, Leonore, canst thou love a nameless stranger who is so unworthy the great boon thou givest.

Leonore. Listen, Adrian, ere thou dost thank me for a divided heart.

Thou hast been told my love for Louis; he was thy friend, and well thou knowest how true and tender was the heart he gave me. He hath gone, and with him rests my first deep love. Thou art my only friend and my protector; thou hast won my grat.i.tude and warmest friendship. I can offer thee a sister's pure affection,--my hand is thine; and here I pledge thee that as thou hast watched o'er me, so now thy happiness shall be my care, thy love my pride and joy. Here is my hand,--wilt thou accept it, Adrian?

Adrian. I will. I would not seek to banish from thy heart the silent love thou bearest Louis. I am content if thou wilt trust me with thy happiness, and give me the sweet right to guide and guard thee through the pilgrimage of life. G.o.d bless thee, dearest.

Leonore. Dear Adrian, can I do nought for thee? I have now won the right to cheer thy sorrows. Have faith in thy Leonore.

Adrian. Thou hast a right to know all, and ere long thou shalt. My mysterious vow will now soon be fulfilled, and then no doubt shall part us. Thou hast placed thy trust in me, and I have not betrayed it, and now I ask a greater boon of thy confiding heart. Wilt thou consent to wed me ere I cast aside this mask forever? Believe me, thou wilt not regret it,--'tis part of my vow; one last trial, and I will prove to thee thou didst not trust in vain. Forgive if I have asked too much.

Nay, thou canst not grant so strange a boon.

Leonore. I can--I will. I did but pause, for it seemed strange thou couldst not let me look upon thy face. But think not that I fear to grant thy wish. Thy heart is pure and n.o.ble, and that thou canst not mask. As I trusted thee through my despair, so now I trust thee in my joy. Canst thou ask more, dear friend?

Adrian. Ever trust me thus! Ah, Leonore, how can I repay thee? My love, my life, are all I can give thee for the blessed gift thou hast bestowed. A time will come when all this mystery shall cease and we shall part no more. Now must I leave thee, dearest. Farewell! Soon will I return.

[_Exit_ Adrian.

Leonore. I will strive to be a true and loving wife to thee, dear Adrian; for I have won a faithful friend in thee forever.

CURTAIN.

SCENE THIRTEENTH.

[_Hall in the castle of_ Count Louis.

_Enter_ Leonore, _in bridal robes_.]

Leonore. At length the hour hath come, when I shall look upon the face of him whom I this day have sworn to love and honor as a wife. I have, perchance, been rash in wedding one I know not, but will not cast a doubt on him who hath proved the n.o.ble heart that beats within his breast. I am his, and come what may, the vows I have this day made shall be unbroken. Ah, he comes; and now shall I gaze upon my husband's face!

[_Enter_ Adrian.

Adrian. Dearest, fear not. Thou wilt not trust me less when thou hast looked upon the face so long concealed. My vow is ended, thou art won.

Thy hand is mine; Leonore, I claim thy heart.

[_Unmasks._ Leonore _screams and falls upon his breast_.

Leonore. Louis, Louis! 'Tis a blessed dream!

Louis. No dream, my Leonore; it is thy living Louis who hath watched above thee, and now claims thee for his own. Ah, dearest, I have tried thee too hardly,--pardon me!

Leonore. Oh, Louis, husband, I have nought to pardon; my life, my liberty, my happiness,--all, all, I owe to thee. How shall I repay thee?

[_Weeps upon his bosom._]