The Fatal Falsehood Part 13

_Or._ How?

_Riv._ She denies me Admittance to her presence.

_Or._ (_aside._) Then I'm lost, Confirm'd a villain; now 'tis plain she loves me.

_Riv._ She will not pardon me one single fault Of jealous love, though thou hadst clear'd up all.

_Or._ Wait till to-morrow, all will then be known.

_Riv._ Wait till to-morrow? Look at that pavilion; All was prepar'd: yes, I dare tell thee all, For thou art honest now.

_Or._ (_aside._) That wounds too deeply.

_Riv._ Soon as the midnight bell gave the glad summons, This dear pavilion had beheld her mine.

_Or._ All will be well to-morrow.--(_Aside._) If I stay I shall betray the whole.----Good night, my Rivers.

_Riv._ Good night; go you to rest; I still shall walk.

[_Exit_ ORLANDO.

_Riv._ Yes, I will trace her haunts; my too fond heart, Like a poor bird that's hunted from its nest, Dares not return, and knows not where to fix; Still it delights to hover round the spot Which lately held its treasure; eyes it still, And with heart-breaking tenderness surveys The scene of joys which never may return. [_Exit._

_Scene changes to another part of the garden._

_Re-enter_ ORLANDO.

_Or._ Did he say rest? talk'd he of rest to me?

Can rest and guilt a.s.sociate? but no matter, I cannot now go back; then such a prize, Such voluntary love, so fair, so yielding, Would make archangels forfeit their allegiance!

I dare not think: reflection leads to madness.

_Enter_ BERTRAND.

Bertrand! I was not made for this dark work; My heart recoils--poor Rivers!

_Ber._ What of Rivers?

_Or._ I've seen him.

_Ber._ Where?

_Or._ Before the great pavilion.

_Ber._ (_aside._) That's lucky, saves me trouble: were he absent, Half of my scheme had fail'd.

_Or._ He's most unhappy; He wish'd me rest, spoke kindly to me, Bertrand; How, how can I betray him?

_Ber._ He deceives you; He's on the watch, else wherefore now abroad At this late hour? beware of treachery.

_Or._ I am myself the traitor.

_Ber._ Come, no more!

The time draws near, you know the cypress walk, 'Tis dark.

_Or._ The fitter for dark deeds like mine.

_Ber._ I have prepar'd your men; when the bell strikes, Go into the pavilion; there you'll find The blushing maid, who with faint screams, perhaps, Will feign resentment. But you want a sword.

_Or._ A sword!--I'll murder no one--why a sword?

_Ber._ 'Tis prudent to be arm'd;--no words,--take mine; There may be danger,--Julia may be lost,-- This night secures or loses her for ever.

The cypress walk--spare none who look like spies.

_Or._ (_looking at the sword._) How deeply is that soul involv'd in guilt, Who dares not hold communion with its thoughts, Nor ask itself what it designs to do!

But dallies blindly with the gen'ral sin Of unexamin'd, undefin'd perdition! [_Exit_ ORLANDO.

_Ber._ Thus far propitious fortune fills my sails; Yet still I doubt his milkiness of soul; My next exploit must be to find out Rivers, And, as from Julia, give him a feign'd message, To join her here at the pavilion gate; There shall Orlando's well-arm'd servants meet him, And take his righteous soul from this bad world.

If they should fail, his honest cousin Bertrand Will help him onward in his way to heav'n.

Then this good dagger, which I'll leave beside him, Will, while it proves the deed, conceal the doer.

'Tis not an English instrument of mischief, And who'll suspect _good Bertrand_ wore a dagger?

To clear me further, I've no sword--unarm'd-- Poor helpless Bertrand! Then no longer poor, But Guildford's heir, and lord of these fair lands.

[_Exit_ BERTRAND.

_Enter_ ORLANDO _on the other side_.

_Or._ Draw thy dun curtain round, oh, night! black night!

Inspirer and concealer of foul crimes!

Thou wizard night! who conjur'st up dark thoughts, And mak'st him bold who else would start at guilt!

Beneath thy veil the villain dares to act What, in broad day, he would not dare to think.

Oh, night! thou hid'st the dagger's point from men, But canst thou screen the a.s.sa.s.sin from himself?

Shut out the eye of heaven? extinguish conscience?

Or heal the wounds of honour? Oh, no, no, no!

Yonder she goes--the guilty, charming Julia!

My genius drives me on--Julia, I come.

[_Runs off._

SCENE--_The Pavilion._

_An arch'd door, through which_ JULIA _and her Maid come forward on the Stage_.

_Jul._ Not here? not come? look out my faithful Anna.

There was a time--oh, time for ever dear!

When Rivers would not make his Julia wait.

Perhaps he blames me, thinks the appointment bold, Too daring, too unlike his bashful Julia; But 'twas the only means my faithful love Devis'd to save him from Orlando's rashness.

I have kept close, refus'd to see my Rivers; Now all is still, and I have ventur'd forth, With this kind maid and virtue for my guard.

Come, we'll go in, he cannot sure be long.

[_They go into the pavilion._