Come, put it off, and let thy heart be cheerful! Secure against ill-fortune, and the world. Hor. I am not apt to take a light offence, But patient of the failings of my friends, And willing to forgive; but when an injury Stabs to the heart, and rouses my resentment, (Perhaps it is the fault of my rude nature) I own I cannot easily forgive it. Alt. Thou hast forgot me! Hor. No. Alt. Why are thy eyes Impatient of me then, scornful, and fierce? and Hor. Because they speak the meaning of my heart; Because they are honest, and disdain a villain! When I forget it, may I be a wretch, Alt. I've wronged thee much, and Heaven has well avenged it. I have not, since we parted, been at peace, Nor known one joy sincere; our broken friendship Pursued me to the last retreat of love, possible; For I will bar thy passage, kneeling thus: And thou shalt trample over my faithful bosom, Alt. Urge not in vain thy pious suit, Lavinia, I have enough to rid me of my pain. Calista, thou hadst reached my heart before; To make all sure, my friend repeats the blow: But in the grave our cares shall be forgotten, There love and friendship cease. [Falls. [Lavinia runs to him, and endeavours to raise him. My brother! But our cares shall end together; Here will I lay me down by thy dear side, Bemoan thy too hard fate, then share it with thee, And never see my cruel lord again. [Horatio runs to Altamont, and raises him in his arms. Hor. It is too much to bear! Look up, my Altamont ! My stubborn, unrelenting heart has killed him. Look up and bless me! tell me that thou livest! Stood glaring like a ghost, and made me cold with Oh! I have urged thy gentleness too far; horror. Misfortunes on misfortunes press upon me, Lav. So flowers are gathered to adorn a grave, To lose their freshness amongst bones and rottenness, And have their odours stifled in the dust. His poor heart broken, death in his pale visage, Alt. I will not ask thee To pity or forgive me; but confess, Hor. I must hear no more; Thy weakness is contagious; I shall catch it, That long cre this her flight had reached the stars; But thy known voice has lured her back again. Methinks, I fain would set all right with thee, Make up this most unlucky breach, and then, With thine and Heaven's forgiveness on my soul, Shrink to my grave, and be at ease for ever. Hor. By Heaven, my heart bleeds for thee; even this moment, I feel thy pangs of disappointed love. ACT V. SCENE I-A Room hung with black; on one side Lothario's body on a bier; on the other a table, with a skull and other bones, a book and a lamp on it. Calista is discovered on a couch, in black; her hair hanging loose and disordered. After soft music, she rises and comes forward. SONG. Hear, you midnight phantoms, hear, And fill the wretch who wakes with fear; From the coverts where you stray, Chide Calista for delay, Enter SCIOLTO. Sci. This dead of night, this silent hour of Nature for rest ordained, and soft repose; And drown the voice of law in noise and anar chy. Amidst the general wreck, see where she stands, [Pointing to Calista. Like Helen, in the night when Troy was sacked, Spectatress of the mischief which she made. Cal. It is Sciolto! Be thyself, my soul; Be strong to bear his fatal indignation, That he may see thou art not lost so far, But somewhat still of his great spirit lives In the forlorn Calista. Sci. Thou wert once My daughter. Cal. Happy were it had I died, And never lost that name. Sci. That's something yet; Thou wert the very darling of my age: I thought the day too short to gaze upon thee, Cal. 'Tis well! these solemn sounds, this pomp That all the blessings I could gather for thee, of horror, Are fit to feed the frenzy in my soul. Here's room for meditation even to madness; Till the mind burst with thinking. This dull flame Sleeps in the socket. Sure the book was left Safe from disquiet sit, and smile to see Is this that haughty, gallant, gay, Lothario? Ascend, ye ghosts, fantastic forms of night, By cares on earth, and by my prayers to Hea Sci. Ha! answer me! Say, hast thou coolly thought? 'Tis not the stoick's lessons got by rote, How thy account may stand, and what to answer? Cal. I have turned my eyes inward upon myself, Where foul offence and shame have laid all waste; Therefore my soul abhors the wretched dwelling, That dwelt in antient Latian breasts, when Rome Cal. Then spare the telling, if it be a pain, And write the meaning with your poignard here. Sci. Oh! truly guessed-see'st thou, this trembling hand- [Holding up a dagger. Thrice justice urged-and thrice the slackening sinews Forgot their office, and confessed the father. And know the rest untaught! It is but thus, and both are satisfied. [She offers to kill herself: Sciolto catches hold of her arm. Sci. A moment, give me yet a moment's space. The stern, the rigid judge has been obeyed; Now nature, and the father, claim their turns. I've held the balance with an iron hand, And put off every tender human thought, To doom my child to death; but spare my eyes The most unnatural sight, lest their strings crack, My old brain split, and I grow mad with horror! Cal. Ha! Is it possible! and is there yet Some little dear remain of love and tenderness For poor, undone Calista, in your heart! Sci. Oh! when I think what pleasure I took in thee, What joys thou gavest me in thy prattling infancy, Thy sprightly wit, and early blooming beauty! How have I stood, and fed my eyes upon thee, Then, lifting up my hands, and wondering, blest thee By my strong grief, my heart even melts within me; I could curse Nature, and that tyrant, honour, For making me thy father, and thy judge;. Thou art my daughter still! Cal. For that kind word, Thus let me full, thus humbly to the earth, Weep on your feet, and bless you for this good ness. Oh! 'tis too much for this offending wretch, Sci. Would it were otherwise but thou must die. Cal. That I must die, it is my only comfort; Death is the privilege of human nature, And life without it were not worth our taking: Thither the poor, the prisoner, and the mourner, Fly for relief, and lay their burthens down. Come then, and take me into thy cold arms, Thou meagre shade; here let me breathe my last, Charmed with my father's pity and forgiveness, More than if angels tuned their golden viols, And sung a requiem to my parting soul. Sci. I am summoned hence; ere this my friends expect me. There is I know not what of sad presage, That tells me, I shall never sce thee more; If it be so, this is our last farewell, And these the parting pangs, which nature feels, When anguish rends the heart-strings-Oh, my daughter! [Exit Sciolto. Cal. Now think, thou cursed Calista! now behold The desolation, horror, blood, and ruin, How blind with passions, and how prone to evil, Nothing but blood can make the expiation, And see, another injured wretch is come, I bore my load of infamy with patience, Cal. Oh, Altamont! 'tis hard for souls like Haughty and fierce, to yield they've done amiss. Alt. Then happiness is still within our reach. Cal. What! in death? Alt. Then, art thou fixed to die?—But be it so; We'll go together; my adventurous love Shall follow thee to those uncertain beings. Whether our lifeless shades are doomed to wander In gloomy groves, with discontented ghosts; Or whether through the upper air we flit, And tread the fields of light; still I'll pursue thee, 'Till fate ordains that we shall part no more. Cal. Oh, no! Heaven has some other better lot in store To crown thee with. Live, and be happy long; Live, for some maid that shall deserve thy good The death he seemed to wish for from thei swords. Cal. And dost thou bear me yet, thou patient earth? Dost thou not labour with thy murderous weight? For I am all contagion, death, and ruin, Hor. Oh, fatal rashness! Alt. Thou dost instruct me well. To lengthen life, But at that beauty must of force relented, Come near, and let me bless thee, ere I die. Let grief, disgrace, and want be far away; Let honour, greatness, goodness, still be with him, |