To blast thee with the sight of him thou hatest,
Of him thou hast wronged; adulteress, 'tis thy husband.
El. (kneels.) Blest be the fountain of eternal mercy,
This load of guilt is spared me! Douglas lives!
Perhaps both live! (to BIRTHA.) Could I be sure of that,
The poison were superfluous-joy would kill me.

Doug. Be honest now for once, and curse thy stars;
Curse thy detested fate which brings thy husband,
Thy hated husband, when thy guilty soul
Revelled in fond, imaginary joys

With thy more happy paramour-just then,
When thy luxurious fancy had combined
Adulterous lust with murder-then, just then,
Thus to reverse the scene! polluted woman!
Mine is the transport now,
and thine the pang.

El. Whence sprung the false report that thou hadst fallen?
Doug. To give thy guilty breast a deeper wound,
To add a deadlier sting to disappointment,

I raised it-I contrived-I sent it thee.

El. Thou seest me bold, but bold in conscious virtue.
-That my sad soul may not be stained 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 laboring 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 space can part us.
Doug. Canst thou renounce him?
El.

Tell me that he lives,

And thou shalt be the ruler of my fate,
And life or death shall on thy bidding wait.
Yes, thou shalt 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.
Doug. O hypocrite! now, vengeance, to thy office,
I had forgot-Percy commends him to thee,
And by my hand-

El.

Doug.

How-by thy hand?

Has sent thee

(he gives her PERCY's scarf.) Then Percy's dead?

This precious pledge of love.

El.

Doug. He is. O great revenge, thou now art mine!

See how convulsive sorrow rends her frame !
This, this is transport! Injured honor, 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 wo.

Bir. Monster! barbarian! leave her to her sorrows.
El. (in a low, solemn voice.) Douglas-think not I faint,
because thou seest

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.

Doug. Percy, I must avow it, bravely fought,—
Died as a hero should; but, as he fell,
Hear it, fond wanton! called upon thy name,
And his last guilty breath sighed out-Elwina!
Come-give a loose to rage, and feed my soul
With wild complaints and womanish upbraidings.
El. (in a low, solemn voice.)

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 compassion;
But there's a dignity in cureless sorrow,

A sullen grandeur which disdains complaint.
Rage is for little wrongs-despair is dumb.

No:

[Exeunt ELWINA and BIRTHA.

Doug. Why, this is well! her sense of wo 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 hoard of wealth, and, like an idiot,

I gave my treasure to another's keeping,
Who did not know the value of the gem,
But threw it, like a common thing, away,
And left the plundered owner quite a beggar.

Doug. What! art thou come to see thy race dishonored, And thy bright sun of glory set in blood?

I would have spared thy virtues and thy age

The knowledge of her infamy.

Raby.

'Tis false.

Had she been base, this sword had drank her blood.
Doug. Ha! dost thou vindicate the wanton?
Raby.

Thou hast defamed a noble lady's honor-
My spotless child-in me behold her champion :
The strength of Hercules will nerve this arm,
When lifted in defence of innocence.

The daughter's virtue for the father's shield,
Will make old Raby still invincible.
Doug. Forbear!

Raby.

And scorn my age.

Doug.

Wanton!

(offers to draw.)

Thou dost disdain my feeble arm,

There will be blood enough;

Nor need thy withered veins, old lord, be drained,

To swell the copious stream.

Raby.

Doug. O, 'tis a day of horror!

Ed.

Thou wilt not kill her ?

Enter EDRIC and BIRTHA.

Where is Douglas?

I come to save him from the deadliest crime
Revenge did ever meditate.

Doug.
What mean'st thou ?
Ed. This instant fly, and save thy guiltless wife.
Doug. Save that perfidious?
Ed.
Bir. Unfortunate, indeed, but O most innocent.
Ed. In the last, solemn article of death,

That much injured woman.

That truth-compelling state, when e'en bad men
Fear to speak falsely, Percy cleared her fame.

Doug. I heard him.-'Twas the guilty fraud of love.
The scarf, the scarf! that proof of mutual passion

Given but this day, to ratify their crimes!

Bir. What means my lord? this day? that fatal scarf
Was given long since, a toy of youthful friendship,
Long ere your marriage, ere you knew Elwina.

Raby. 'Tis I am guilty.

Doug.
Raby.

Ha!

I, I alone.
Confusion, honor, pride, parental fondness
Distract my soul. Percy was not to blame:
He was the destined husband of Elwina!
He loved her-was beloved, and I approved.
The tale is long.-I changed my purpose since,
Forbade their marriage-

Doug.
Twice did they meet to-day-my wife and Percy.
Raby. I know it.

And confirmed my misery!

Doug.

Thou wast a witness, an approving witness,

At least a tame one!

Raby.

Ha! thou knew'st of my dishonor?

Percy came, 'tis true,

A constant, tender, but a guiltless lover!

Doug. I shall grow mad indeed! a guiltless lover! Percy, the guiltless lover of my wife!

Raby. He knew not she was married.

Doug.

How is't possible!

Raby. Douglas, 'tis true; both, both were ignorant:

He, of her marriage; she, of his return.

Bir. But now, when we believed thee dead, she vowed Never to see thy rival. Instantly,

Not in a start of momentary passion,

But with a martyr's dignity and calmness,

She bade me bring the poison.

Doug.

Hadst thou done it,

Despair had been my portion! Fly, good Birtha,
Find out the suffering saint-describe my grief,
And paint my vast extravagance of fondness.
Tell her I love as never mortal loved-

Tell her I know her virtues, and adore them;
Tell her I come, but dare not seek her presence,
Till she pronounce my pardon.

[Exit BIRTHA.

Bir.
I obey.
Raby. My child is innocent! ye choirs of saints,
Catch the blest sounds-my child is innocent!

Doug. O, I will kneel, and sue for her forgiveness,
And thou shalt help me plead the cause of love;
And thou shalt weep-she cannot sure refuse
A kneeling husband and a weeping father.
Thy venerable cheek is wet already.

Raby. Douglas! it is the dew of grateful joy!

My child is innocent! I now would die,

Lest fortune should grow weary of her kindness,
And grudge me this short transport.

Doug.

Where, where is she?

My fond impatience brooks not her delay;
Quick let me find her, hush her anxious soul,
And soothe her troubled spirit into peace.

Both a husband's gift!

She has, in her delirium, drank the poison.
Raby. Frenzy and poison!

(as DOUGLAS goes to stab himself, enter ELWINA, distracted, her hair dishevelled, PERCY's scarf in her hand.) El. (goes up to Douglas.) What, blood again! We cannot kill him twice:

Soft, soft

—no violence—he's dead already ;— I did it-Yes-I drowned him with my tears; But hide the cruel deed! I'll scratch him out A shallow grave, and lay the green sod on it; Ay—and I'll bind the wild brier o'er the turf, And plant a willow there, a weeping willow.—

(she sits on the ground.)

But look you tell not Douglas; he'll disturb him,
He'll pluck the willow up-and plant a thorn-
He will not let me sit upon his grave,

And sing all day, and weep, and pray all night.
Raby. Dost thou not know me?

El.

You had a harmless lamb.

Raby.

Yes I do remember

I had indeed!

El. From all the flock you chose her out a mate, In sooth a fair one-you did bid her love it—

But while the shepherd slept, the wolf devoured it.

Raby. My heart will break. This is too much, too much.
El. (smiling.) O'twas a cordial draught—I drank it all.
Raby. What means my child?

Doug.
Thou dear, wronged innocence-

The poison-O the poison!