Page:Representative American plays.pdf/157

140 My generous foe, my honourable con- queror ! Mary. (Reviving.) Nay, ye shall not de- tain me — I will go.

And tell them all. Before I could not speak

My father held me here fast by the throat.

Why will you hold me*? they will murder hira —

Unless I speak for him. He spoke for me —

He sav'd my honour ! Ah ! what 's here *? Heaven!

'T is he — is he asleep'? — No, it is not he.—

I 'd think 't were he, but that his eyes are swolFn

Out of their sockets — and his face is black

With settled blood. — It is a murder'd man

You 've brought me to — and not my Charles — my Charles!

He was so young and lovely. — Soft, soft, soft!

Now I remember. — They have made you look so.

To fright me from your love. It will not do—

I know you well enough — I know those lips

Tho' I have never touch'd them. There, love, there,

It is our nuptial kiss. They shall not cheat us —

Hark in thine ear, how we will laugh at them. {Leans her head down on the body, as if ivhispering.) Sir R. Alas ! poor maniac.

(Isabella wlio, supported by her father, had been bending over the body in mute despair, is now sink- ing.) UxK. Daughter — Isabella —

IsA. Father — {Looking up in his face.) UxK. You will not leave me, Isabella ?

ISA. I would remain to comfort you, my father.

But there 's a tightness here. — For nine- teen years

He was my only stay on earth — my good, My duteous son. Ere I found thee, my

father. The cord was snapp'cl — Forgive me — (Isabella falls^ and is received in the arms of Lucy.) UxK. Bless thee, child —

I will not linger long behind thee.

{Storm subsides.)

Sir R. Sir,

If you 're that lady's father, I have here

A pardon for you from the king.

UxK. I thank him ;

But it is now too late. — She 's gone. —

The world Has nothing left for me — deep in the

wilderness, I '11 seek a grave, unknown, unseen by man. — Walf. How fares your hapless friend? Alice. Her cold cheek rests

Against his cheek — not colder — Walf. Place your hand

Upon her heart : is there no beating there ? Alice. There is no beating there — She 's

dead ! Rav. Dead, dead ! —

(Ravensworth, ivho thro' this scene^ had shewn the signs of stern and set- tled despair, occasionally casting his eyes upon his daughter, or raising them to Heaven, but withdrawing them again in utter hopelessness, now sinks groaning into the arms of Walford. Isabella is on her knees, on the upper side of the bier, leaning on Lucy. The Uxkxown, with his hands clasp'd, bends over his daugh- ter. Alice is kneeling at the side of her friend. Sir Reginald and George Egertox stand near the head of the bier. Lucy and Edward be- hind their mistress. The back ground filled up by the Judges, Vil- lagers, etc. The Curtaix falls amidst a burst of the Storm, accom- panied by Thunder and Lightning.)