The Fatal Falsehood Part 11

_Riv._ (_to_ ORLANDO.) This is the heart thou hast wrong'd.

_Em._ (_comes up to_ ORLANDO.) I pity thee; Calamity has taught me how to pity; Before I knew distress, my heart was hard; But now it melts at ev'ry touch of woe; And wholesome sufferings bring it back to virtue.

Rivers, he once was good and just like thee: Who shall be proud and think he stands secure, If thy Orlando's false?

_Riv._ Think of his crime.

_Em._ Oh, think of his temptation! think 'twas Julia; _Thy_ heart could not resist her; how should _his_?

It is the very error of his friendship.

Your souls were fram'd so very much alike, He could not choose but love whom Rivers lov'd.

_Or._ Think'st thou there is in death a pang like this?

Strike, my brave friend! be sudden and be silent!

Death, which is terrible to happy men, To me will be a blessing: I have lost All that could make life dear; I've lost my friend; I've stabb'd the peace of mind of that fair creature; I have surviv'd my honour: this is dying!

The mournful fondness of officious love Will plant no thorns upon my dying pillow; No precious tears embalm my memory, But curses follow it.

_Em._ See, Rivers melts; He pities thee.

_Or._ I'll spare thy n.o.ble heart The pain of punishing: Orlando's self Revenges both.

[_Goes to stab himself with the dagger._

_Em._ Barbarian! kill me first.

_Riv._ (_s.n.a.t.c.hing the dagger._) Thou shalt not die! I swear I love thee still: That secret sympathy which long has bound us Pleads for thy life with sweet but strong entreaty.

Thou shalt repair the wrongs of that dear saint, And be again my friend.

_Or._ Oh, hear me.

_Em._ No.

I cannot stoop to live on charity, And what but charity is love compell'd?

I've been a weak, a fond, believing woman, And credulous beyond my s.e.x's softness: But with the weakness, I've the pride of woman.

I lov'd with virtue, but I fondly lov'd; That pa.s.sion fix'd my fate, determin'd all, And mark'd at once the colour of my life.

Hearts that love well, love long; they love but once.

My peace thou hast destroy'd, my honour's mine: She who aspir'd to gain Orlando's heart Shall never owe Orlando's hand to pity.

[_Exit_ EMMELINA.

_Or._ (_after a pause._) And I still live!

_Riv._ Farewell! should I stay longer I might forget my vow.

_Or._ Yet hear me, Rivers.

[_Exit_ RIVERS, ORLANDO _following_.

_Enter_ BERTRAND _on the other side_.

_Ber._ How's this? my fortune fails me, both alive!

I thought by stirring Rivers to this quarrel, There was at least an equal chance against him.

I work invisibly, and like the tempter My agency is seen in its effects.

Well, _honest_ Bertrand! now for Julia's letter.

(_Takes out a letter._) This fond epistle of a love-sick maid, I've sworn to give, but did not swear to whom.

"Give it my love," said she, "my dearest lord!"

Rivers she meant; there's no address--that's lucky.

Then where's the harm? Orlando is a lord, As well as Rivers, loves her, too, as well.

(_Breaks open the letter._) I must admire your style--your pardon, fair one.

(_Runs over it._) I tread in air--methinks I brush the stars, And spurn the subject world which rolls beneath me.---- There's not a word but fits Orlando's case As well as Rivers';--tender to excess-- No name--'twill do; his faith in me is boundless; Then, as the brave are still, he's unsuspecting, And credulous beyond a woman's weakness.

(_Going out, he spies the dagger._) Orlando's dagger!--ha! 'tis greatly thought.

This may do n.o.ble service; such a scheme!

My genius catches fire! the bright idea Is form'd at once, and fit for instant action! [_Exit._

ACT V.

SCENE--_The Garden._

_Ber._ 'Twas here we were to meet; where does he stay?

This compound of strange contradicting parts, Too flexible for virtue, yet too virtuous To make a flourishing, successful villain.

Conscience! be still; preach not remorse to me; Remorse is for the luckless, failing villain.

He who succeeds repents not; penitence Is but another name for ill success.

Was Nero penitent when Rome was burnt?

No: but had Nero been a petty villain, Subject to laws and liable to fear, Nero perchance had been a penitent.

He comes:--this paper makes him all my own.

_Enter_ ORLANDO.

_Or._ At length this wretched, tempest-beaten bark Seems to have found its haven: I'm resolv'd; My wav'ring principles are fix'd to honour; My virtue gathers force, my mind grows strong, I feel an honest confidence within, A precious earnest of returning peace.

_Ber._ Who feels secure stands on the verge of ruin. [_Aside._ Trust me, it joys my heart to see you thus: What have I not attempted for your sake!

My love for you has warp'd my honest nature, And friendship has infring'd on higher duties.

_Or._ It was a generous fault.

_Ber._ Yet 'twas a fault.

Oh, for a flinty heart that knows no weakness, But moves right onward, unseduc'd by friendship, And all the weak affections!

_Or._ Hear me, Bertrand!

This is my last farewell; absence alone Can prop my stagg'ring virtue.

_Ber._ You're resolv'd: Then Julia's favours come too late.

_Or._ What favours?

_Ber._ Nay, nothing; I renounce these weak affections; They have misled us both. I, too, repent, And will return the letter back to Julia.

_Or._ Letter! what letter? Julia write to me?

I will not see it.--What would Rivers say?