Ends his sad story ere the half be told. Oh! may our pains with wish'd success be crown'd. Enter ARDEN. Ard. No, Franklin, no; your friendly cares are vain: Were I but certain she had wrong'd my bed, Frank. O jealousy! thou bane of social joys! Rumour has fewer tongues than she has ears; Ard. No more, no more; I know its plagues, but where's the remedy? Frank. She shall heal these wounds. Ard. She's my disease, and can she be my cure? My friends should rather teach me to abhor her, To tear her image from my bleeding heart. Mar. We leave that hateful office to the fiends. Frank. If you e'er lov'd, you'll not refuse to see her: You promis'd that. Ard. Did I? Frank. Indeed you did. Ard. Well, then, some other time. Frank. No; see her now. Ard. Guilt chains her tongue. Lo! silent, self. condemn'd, With tearful eyes and trembling limbs she stands. Ali. Fain would I kiss his footsteps; but that look, Where indignation seems to strive with grief, Ard. Who would think Ard. Those tears, methinks, ev'n if her guilt were certain, Might wash away her pains. Ali. Support me, heav'n! Ard. Curse on the abject thought. I shall relapse To simple dotage. She steals on my heart, She conquers with her eyes. If I but hear her voice, Nor earth nor heaven can save me from her snares. Oh! let me fly, if I have yet the pow'r. Ali. Oh, Arden! do not, do not leave me thus. To aggravate thy guilt, and wound thy soul? Of tears, of sighs, of groans, of speechless sorrow, Be but sincere, thyself will do it better. One thing I'll tell thee: (for perhaps 'twill please thee ;) Thou'st broke my heart, Alicia. Ali. Oh! Ard. And canst thou, (She falls to the ground.) Can woman pity whom she hath undone? Ard. Franklin, I know my heart, and dare not Why dost thou grasp my knees? what wouldst see her. thou say, If thou could'st find thy speech? Ali. Oh, mercy, mercy! Ard. Thou hast had none on me: let go my hand; Why dost thou press it to thy throbbing heart, Ali. Then may it e'er beat more. Ard. At least, I'm sure it did not always so. [Exeunt Franklin and Maria. On the bare bosom of this conscious earth, Ard. Be still my heart! Enter ALICIA, not seeing Arden. Ali. How shall I bear my Arden's just reproaches? Or can a reconcilement long continue, He's here! earth open-hide me from his sight. Till Arden speak the word of peace and comfort, Or my heart break before him. Ard. Oh, Alicia! Thou inconsistent spring of grief and joy, Whence sweet and bitter streams, alternate flow, Come to my arms, and in this too fond bosom Disburden all the fulness of thy soul. Ali. Let me approach with awe that sacred temple, Resume my seat, and dwell for ever there. Ard. There ever reign, as on thy native throne, Thou lovely wanderer! Ali. Am I at last, Shake. I've pink'd him tho'. In error's fatal mazes long bewilder'd, Ard. Dry up thy tears; and tell me, truly tell me, Has my long suffering love at length prevail'd, Ali. Heav'n's my witness, I love thee, Arden; and esteem thy love Ard. Thou'rt cheaply purchas'd with unnumber'd sighs, With many a bitter tear, and years of patience, Ali. I am, I will. I ne'er knew joy till now. Our yearly fair returning with St. Valentine, bounty. Till happy night farewell. My best Alicia, Ali. Thus ever may they see us! The wand'ring fires that have so long misled me, tears? Sighs are the language of a broken heart, [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The Street. People at a distance as at a fair. Enter ARDEN on one side, and BLACK WILL and SHAKEBAG on the other; GREEN directing them. B. Will. Shakebag, you'll second me. 'Sblood! give the way. (Pushes Arden.) Shake. May we not pass the streets? B. Will. Your sight, perhaps, is bad; your feel ing may be better. (Strikes him.) Ard. Insolent villains! (Draws.) B. Will. Come, we'll teach you manners. Enter MOSBY. Mosby. O bloody dogs! attempt a life so pre cious! B. Will. This is a fury, George. Frank. You're cred'lous, and treat my serious | Enter GREEN, BLACK WILL, SHAKEBAG, and Arden. [Exit. Mos. The surly friend has left him, as I wish'd. You see how eagerly the foolish fowl Flies headlong to our snare; now to inclose him. Green. She'll not dare betray us. Mos. Not when the deed is done. We know too much. She'll be our prisoner, and shall be observ'd. Green. Good; 'tis a death that leaves Mos. Howe'er, come all provided with your dag (Talks apart with Green.) B. Will. What a fair house! rich furniture; what piles of massy plate; and then yon iron chest. Good plunder, comrade. Shake. And Madame Arden there, a prize worth them all to me. B. Will. And shall that fawning, white-liver'd coward, Mosby, enjoy all these? Shake. No doubt he would, were we the fools he thinks us. Green. Had he as many lives as drops of blood, I'd have them all. (To Alicia.) Ali. But for one single night Green. I'd not defer his fate a single hour, Tho' I were sure myself to die the next. For thy own life. Ali. Oh! mercy, mercy Why, Michael. Mich. Sir! (Knocking gently at the gate.) Green. Thou bloodless coward, what dost tremble at? Dost thou not hear a knocking at the gate? [Exit Michael. Mosby, no doubt. How like a sly adulterer, The word is "Now I take (Knocking louder than before.) authority. That speaks the He seems in haste. "Twere pity he should wait, [Green, B. Will, and Shakebag, go into the inner room. I hear the sound of feet. Enter MOSBY. Sir! hear me, Mosby. Mosby. Is this a time Ali. I will be heard And mark me, when I swear, never hereafter, Mosby. Be d-d-your husband- (She screams.) Enter ARDEN and MICHAEL. Ard. Am I a monster, that I fright thee thus? (To Alicia.) I've been, indeed, to blame; but I will make thee A large amends, Alicia. Look upon him As on the man that gave your husband's life. Ali. I'll not give it thee. Ard. O wretched woman! have they kill'd thee, too; Ali. Would take my husband's life! I'll tell him A deadly paleness, agony, and horror, all, I owe to both your fames, and pay it freely. Ard. Come, take your seat; this shall not save your money. Bring us the tables, Michael. (They sit and play.) Wilt thou not interpose? How dread this pause! B. Will. Blood! why don't Mosby give the word? Mich. Give back, the game's against him. Ali. Fly, Franklin, fly! to save thy Arden's life. Murder himself, that chases him in view, Beholding me, stand back, and for a moment Suspends her thirst for blood. (Apart.) Ard. Come, give it up; I told you I should win. (Rises.) Mos. No: I see an advantage; move again. Ard. There. Mos. Now I take you. (Black Will throws a scarf over Arden's head, in order to strangle him; but Arden disengages himself, wrests a dagger from Shakebag, and stands on the defence, till Mosby getting behind and seizing his arm, the rest assassinate him.) Ali. Oh power omnipotent! make strong his arm, Give him to conques Ha! my prayers are curses, And draw down vengeance where they meant a blessing. On thy sad visage sit. My soul hangs on thee, How have I doated to idolatry! Vain, foolish wretch, and thoughtless of hereafter; Nor hop'd, nor wish'd a heav'n beyond her love. Now, unprepar'd, I perish by her hate. Ali. Though blacker and more guilty than the flends, My soul is white from this accursed deed. Ard. Full of doubts I come, Oh, thou Supreme, to seek thy awful presence. Ali. Turn not from me: (Dies.) Ali. As the howling damn'd; and thou my | So, softly, softly, Michael! not that door. hell. Mar. Unhappy brother! If thou hast done this deed, hope not to 'scape: Mich. The guests are come; the servants all return'd. Mos. Alicia, be thyself; and mask thy heart (Mosby lifts up Alicia.) From every prying eye, with courteous smiles. Ali. Thou canst not think me mean enough to live. Mos. You would not choose an ignominious death? Ali. That's all I dread. Might but the silent grave, When it receives me to its dark abode, Hide, with my dust, my shame! Oh, might that be, And Arden's death reveng'd, 'Tis my sole prayer. If not, may awful justice have her course. [Exit. B. Will. Why, what a crew of cowards! Shake. There. Will you have his purse, too? B. Will. Thanks for our own; we should have kept the ring, Were it not too remarkable. But how must we dispose of the body? Mos. Convey it thro' the garden, to the field Behind the abbey-wall: Michael will shew the (Michael going out of the wrong door.) So, make what speed you can: I'll wait you there. SCENE II.-A Hall in Arden's House. MOSBY discovered. [Exeunt. Mos. They must pass undescried: gardens and flelds Are dreary deserts now. Night-fowls and beasts Nor leave their shelter at a time like this. Contracts new horrors, and a deeper black, wish. (A pause.) Arden is dead; now count thy gains at leisure. Should you be question'd as to Arden's death, You'll not confess? Mich. No, so Maria's mine. Mos. She's thine, if all a brother can- I brought hear dear, at hazard of my soul, And force shall make her mine. Mos. Why, how now, coward! Enter MARIA. Mar. The guests refuse to take their seats with out you. Alicia's grief, too, borders on distraction. Thy presence may appease Mos. Increase it rather. Mar. Michael, your absence, too, has been observed. Mos. Say we are coming Mich. One thing I'd forgot: [Exit Maria. Soon as the company have left the house, The ruffians will return. Mos. What would the villains? |