Percy Part 12

[_Elwina stands in a fixed att.i.tude, her hands clasped._

Now, gracious heaven, sustain me in the trial, And bow my spirit to thy great decrees!

_Re-enter Birtha._

[_Elwina looks stedfastly at her without speaking._

_Bir._ Douglas is fallen.

_Elw._ Bring me the poison.

_Bir._ Never.

_Elw._ Where are the knights? I summon you--approach!

Draw near, ye awful ministers of fate, Dire instruments of posthumous revenge!

Come--I am ready; but your tardy justice Defrauds the injur'd dead.--Go, haste, my friend, See that the castle be securely guarded, Let every gate be barr'd--prevent his entrance.

_Bir._ Whose entrance?

_Elw._ His--the murderer of my husband.

_Bir._ He's single, we have hosts of friends.

_Elw._ No matter; Who knows what love and madness may attempt?

But here I swear by all that binds the good, Never to see him more.--Unhappy Douglas!

O if thy troubled spirit still is conscious Of our past woes, look down, and hear me swear, That when the legacy thy rage bequeath'd me Works at my heart, and conquers struggling nature, Ev'n in that agony I'll still be faithful.

She who could never love, shall yet obey, thee, Weep thy hard fate, and die to prove her truth.

_Bir._ O unexampled virtue! [_a noise without._

_Elw._ Heard you nothing?

By all my fears the insulting conqueror comes.

O save me, shield me!

_Enter Douglas._

Heaven and earth, my husband!

_Dou._ Yes---- To blast thee with the sight of him thou hat'st, Of him thou hast wrong'd, adultress, 'tis thy husband.

_Elw._ [_kneels._] Blest be the fountain of eternal mercy, This load of guilt is spar'd me! Douglas lives!

Perhaps both live! [_to Birtha._] Could I be sure of that, The poison were superfluous, joy would kill me.

_Dou._ Be honest now, for once, and curse thy stars; Curse thy detested fate which brings thee back A hated husband, when thy guilty soul Revell'd in fond, imaginary joys With my too happy rival; when thou flew'st, To gratify impatient, boundless pa.s.sion, And join adulterous l.u.s.t to b.l.o.o.d.y murder; Then to reverse the scene! polluted woman!

Mine is the transport now, and thine the pang.

_Elw._ Whence sprung the false report that thou had'st fall'n?

_Dou._ To give thy guilty breast a deeper wound, To add a deadlier sting to disappointment, I rais'd it--I contriv'd--I sent it thee.

_Elw._ Thou seest me bold, but bold in conscious virtue.

--That my sad soul may not be stain'd with blood, That I may spend my few short hours in peace, And die in holy hope of Heaven's forgiveness, Relieve the terrors of my lab'ring breast, Say I am clear of murder--say he lives, Say but that little word, that Percy lives, And Alps and oceans shall divide us ever, As far as universal s.p.a.ce can part us.

_Dou._ Canst thou renounce him?

_Elw._ Tell me that he lives, And thou shall be the ruler of my fate, For ever hide me in a convent's gloom, From cheerful day-light, and the haunts of men, Where sad austerity and ceaseless prayer Shall share my uncomplaining day between them.

_Dou._ O, hypocrite! now, Vengeance, to thy office.

I had forgot--Percy commends him to thee, And by my hand--

_Elw._ How--by thy hand?

_Dou._ Has sent thee This precious pledge of love. [_he gives her Percy's scarf._

_Elw._ Then Percy's dead!

_Dou._ He is.--O great revenge, thou now art mine!

See how convulsive sorrow rends her frame!

This, this is transport!--injur'd honour now Receives its vast, its ample retribution.

She sheds no tears, her grief's too highly wrought; 'Tis speechless agony.--She must not faint-- She shall not 'scape her portion of the pain.

No! she shall feel the fulness of distress, And wake to keen perception of her loss.

_Bir._ Monster! Barbarian! leave her to her sorrows.

_Elw._ [_in a low broken voice._]

Douglas--think not I faint, because thou see'st The pale and bloodless cheek of wan despair.

Fail me not yet, my spirits; thou cold heart, Cherish thy freezing current one short moment, And bear thy mighty load a little longer.

_Dou._ Percy, I must avow it, bravely fought,-- Died as a hero should;--but, as he fell, (Hear it, fond wanton!) call'd upon thy name, And his last guilty breath sigh'd out--Elwina!

Come--give a loose to rage, and feed thy soul With wild complaints, and womanish upbraidings.

_Elw._ [_in a low solemn voice._] No.

The sorrow's weak that wastes itself in words, Mine is substantial anguish--deep, not loud; I do not rave.--Resentment's the return Of common souls for common injuries.

Light grief is proud of state, and courts compa.s.sion; But there's a dignity in cureless sorrow, A sullen grandeur which disdains complaint; Rage is for little wrongs--Despair is dumb.

[_exeunt Elwina and Birtha._

_Dou._ Why this is well! her sense of woe is strong!

The sharp, keen tooth of gnawing grief devours her, Feeds on her heart, and pays me back my pangs.

Since I must perish 'twill be glorious ruin: I fall not singly, but, like some proud tower, I'll crush surrounding objects in the wreck, And make the devastation wide and dreadful.

_Enter Raby._

_Raby._ O whither shall a wretched father turn?

Where fly for comfort? Douglas, art thou here?

I do not ask for comfort at thy hands.

I'd but one little casket where I lodged My precious h.o.a.rd of wealth, and, like an idiot, I gave my treasure to another's keeping, Who threw away the gem, nor knew its value, But left the plunder'd owner quite a beggar.

_Dou._ What art thou come to see thy race dishonour'd?