The Fatal Falsehood Part 10

Come, triumph in thy power, complete my woes; Insult me with the praises of my rival, The man on earth--whom most I ought to love!

_Jul._ I leave thee to remorse, and to that penitence Thy crime demands. [_Going._

_Or._ A moment stay.

_Jul._ I dare not.

_Or._ Hear all my rival's worth, and all my guilt.

The unsuspecting Rivers sent me to thee, To plead his cause; I basely broke my trust, And, like a villain, pleaded for myself.

_Jul._ Did he? Did Rivers? Then he loves me still-- Quick let me seek him out.

_Or._ (_takes out the dagger._) First take this dagger; Had you not forc'd it from my hand to-day, I had not liv'd to know this guilty moment: Take it, present it to the happy Rivers, Tell him to plunge it in a traitor's heart, Tell him his friend, Orlando, is that traitor, Tell him Orlando forg'd the guilty tale, Tell him Orlando was the only foe Who at the altar would have murder'd Rivers, And then have died himself.

_Jul._ Farewell--repent--think better. [_Exit_ JULIA.

[_As she goes out, he still looks after her._

_Enter_ RIVERS.

_Riv._ Turn, villain, turn!

_Or._ Ha! Rivers here?

_Riv._ Yes, Rivers.

_Or._ Gape wide, thou friendly earth, for ever hide me!

Rise, Alps, ye crashing mountains, bury me!

_Riv._ Nay, turn, look on me.

_Or._ Rivers! oh, I cannot, I dare not, I have wrong'd thee.

_Riv._ Doubly wrong'd me; Thy complicated crimes cry out for vengeance.

_Or._ Take it.

_Riv._ But I would take it as a man.

Draw. [RIVERS _draws_.

_Or._ Not for a thousand worlds.

_Riv._ Not fight?

Why, thou'rt a coward, too, as well as villain: I shall despise as well as hate thee.

_Or._ Do; Yet wrong me not, for if I am a coward 'Tis but to thee: there does not breathe the man, Thyself excepted, who durst call me so And live; but, oh! 'tis sure to heaven and thee, I am the veriest coward guilt e'er made.

Now, as thou art a man, revenge thyself: Strike!

_Riv._ No, not stab thee like a base a.s.sa.s.sin, But meet thee as a foe.

_Or._ Think of my wrongs.

_Riv._ I feel them here.

_Or._ Think of my treachery.

_Riv._ Oh, wherefore wast thou false? how have I lov'd thee!

_Or._ Of that no more: think of thy father's grief, Of Emmelina's wrongs----

_Riv._ Provoke me not.

_Or._ Of Julia----

_Riv._ Ha! I shall forget my honour, And do a brutal violence upon thee, Would tarnish my fair fame. Villain and coward!

Traitor! will nothing rouse thee?

_Or._ (_drawing._) Swelling heart!

Yet this I have deserv'd, all this, and more.

_As they prepare to fight, enter_ EMMELINA _hastily_.

_Em._ Lend me your swiftness, lightnings--'tis too late.

See they're engag'd--oh, no--they live, both live!

Hold, cruel men!

_Riv._ Unlucky! 'tis my sister.

_Em._ Ye men of blood! if yet you have not lost All sense of human kindness, love, or pity; If ever you were dear to one another; If ever you desire or look for mercy When in the wild extremity of anguish, You supplicate that Judge who has declar'd That vengeance is his own--oh, hear me now; Hear a fond wretch, whom mis'ry has made bold; Spare, spare each other's life--spare your own souls.

_Or._ (_to_ RIVERS.) Thou shouldst have struck at once! O tardy hand!

_Em._ Does death want engines? is his power curtail'd?

Has fell disease forgotten to destroy?

Are there not pestilence and spotted plagues, Devouring deluges, consuming fires, Earthquakes, volcanoes, hurricanes, and famine, That man must perish by the hand of man?

Nay, to complete the horror, friend by friend?

_Riv._ What! shall I then endure this outrage tamely?

_Em._ No. If you _covet_ death; if you're in _love_ With slaughter and destruction--does not war Invite you to her banner? Far and wide Her dire dominion reaches.--There seek death.

There fall without a crime. There, where no hate, No individual rage, no private wrong, Arms man against his brother.--Not as here, Where _both_ are often _murderers_ in the _act_; In the _foul purpose----always_.

_Riv._ Is honour nothing?

_Em._ Honour! O yes, I know him. 'Tis a phantom; A shadowy figure wanting bulk and life; Who, having nothing solid in himself, Wraps his thin form in Virtue's plunder'd robe, And steals her t.i.tle. Honour! 'tis the fiend Who feeds on orphans' tears and widows' groans, And slakes his impious thirst in brothers' blood.

Honour! why, 'tis the primal law of h.e.l.l!

The grand device to people the dark realms With n.o.ble spirits, who, but for this curst honour, Had been at peace on earth, or bless'd in heaven.

With this _false_ honour Christians have no commerce, Religion disavows, and truth disowns it.

_Or._ (_throws away his sword._) An angel speaks, and angels claim obedience.