Percy Part 1

Percy.

by Hannah More.

A TRAGEDY,

REMARKS.

This tragedy, in which Mrs. Hannah More is supposed to have been a.s.sisted by Garrick, was produced at Covent Garden Theatre, in 1778, with success; and revived, in 1818, at the same Theatre.

The feuds of the rival houses of Percy and of Douglas have furnished materials for this melancholy tale, in which Mrs. More[1] has embodied many judicious sentiments and excellent pa.s.sages, producing a forcible lesson to parental tyranny. The victim of her husband's unreasonable jealousy, _Elwina's_ virtuous conflict is pathetic and interesting; while _Percy's_ sufferings, and the vain regret of Earl _Raby_, excite and increase our sympathy.

[1] Of this estimable lady, a contemporary writer says, "This lady has for many years flourished in the literary world, which she has richly adorned by a variety of labours, all possessing strong marks of excellence. In the cause of religion and society, her labours are original and indefatigable; and the industrious poor have been at once enlightened by her instructions, and supported by her bounty."

As a dramatic writer, Mrs. More is known by her "Search after Happiness," pastoral drama; "The Inflexible Captive,"--"Percy,"

and "Fatal Falsehood," tragedies; and by her "Sacred Dramas."

DRAMATIS PERSONae.

Percy, Earl of Northumberland Mr. Lewis.

Earl Douglas Mr. Wroughton.

Earl Raby, Elwina's Father Mr. Aickin.

Edric, Friend to Douglas Mr. Whitefield.

Harcourt, Friend to Percy Mr. Robson.

Sir Hubert, a Knight Mr. Hull.

Elwina Mrs. Barry.

Birtha Mrs. Jackson.

Knights, Guards, Attendants, &c.

SCENE,--Raby Castle, in Durham.

PERCY.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I. A GOTHIC HALL.

_Enter Edric and Birtha._

_Bir._ What may this mean? Earl Douglas has enjoin'd thee To meet him here in private?

_Edr._ Yes, my sister, And this injunction I have oft receiv'd; But when he comes, big with some painful secret, He starts, looks wild, then drops ambiguous hints, Frowns, hesitates, turns pale, and says 'twas nothing; Then feigns to smile, and by his anxious care To prove himself at ease, betrays his pain.

_Bir._ Since my short sojourn here, I've mark'd this earl, And though the ties of blood unite us closely, I shudder at his haughtiness of temper, Which not his gentle wife, the bright Elwina, Can charm to rest. Ill are their spirits pair'd; His is the seat of frenzy, her's of softness, His love is transport, her's is trembling duty; Rage in his soul is as the whirlwind fierce, While her's ne'er felt the power of that rude pa.s.sion.

_Edr._ Perhaps the mighty soul of Douglas mourns, Because inglorious love detains him here, While our bold knights, beneath the Christian standard, Press to the bulwarks of Jerusalem.

_Bir._ Though every various charm adorns Elwina, And though the n.o.ble Douglas dotes to madness, Yet some dark mystery involves their fate: The canker grief devours Elwina's bloom, And on her brow meek resignation sits, Hopeless, yet uncomplaining.

_Edr._ 'Tis most strange.

_Bir._ Once, not long since, she thought herself alone; 'Twas then the pent-up anguish burst its bounds; With broken voice, clasp'd hands, and streaming eyes, She call'd upon her father, call'd him cruel, And said her duty claim'd far other recompence.

_Edr._ Perhaps the absence of the good Lord Raby, Who, at her nuptials, quitted this fair castle, Resigning it to her, may thus afflict her.

Hast thou e'er question'd her, good Birtha?

_Bir._ Often, But hitherto in vain; and yet she shews me The endearing kindness of a sister's love; But if I speak of Douglas----

_Edr._ See! he comes.

It would offend him should he find you here.

_Enter Douglas._

_Dou._ How! Edric and his sister in close conference?

Do they not seem alarm'd at my approach?

And see, how suddenly they part! Now Edric, [_exit Birtha._ Was this well done? or was it like a friend, When I desir'd to meet thee here alone; With all the warmth of trusting confidence, To lay my bosom naked to thy view, And shew thee all its weakness, was it well To call thy sister here, to let her witness Thy friend's infirmity?--perhaps to tell her--

_Edr._ My lord, I nothing know; I came to learn.

_Dou._ Nay then thou dost suspect there's something wrong?

_Edr._ If we were bred from infancy together, If I partook in all thy youthful griefs, And every joy thou knew'st was doubly mine, Then tell me all the secret of thy soul: Or have these few short months of separation, The only absence we have ever known, Have these so rent the bands of love asunder, That Douglas should distrust his Edric's truth?

_Dou._ My friend, I know thee faithful as thou'rt brave, And I will trust thee--but not now, good Edric, 'Tis past, 'tis gone, it is not worth the telling, 'Twas wrong to cherish what disturb'd my peace; I'll think of it no more.

_Edr._ Transporting news!

I fear'd some hidden trouble vex'd your quiet.

In secret I have watch'd----

_Dou._ Ha! watch'd in secret?

A spy, employ'd, perhaps, to note my actions.

What have I said? Forgive me, thou art n.o.ble: Yet do not press me to disclose my grief, For when thou know'st it, I perhaps shall hate thee As much, my Edric, as I hate myself For my suspicions--I am ill at ease.

_Edr._ How will the fair Elwina grieve to hear it!

_Dou._ Hold, Edric, hold--thou hast touch'd the fatal string That wakes me into madness. Hear me then, But let the deadly secret be secur'd With bars of adamant in thy close breast.