Mar. Never was anguish, never grief, like hers: Relenting Arden kindly soothe her sorrows, Frank. Their mutual peace, Maria! Ard. No, Franklin, no; your friendly cares are vain: Were I but certain she had wronged my bed, 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. I'll meet, with honourable confidence, Would seem impertinence. [Exeunt Franklin and Maria. Ard. Be still, my heart! ALICIA enters, not seeing ARDEN. Alic. How shall I bear my Arden's just reproaches! Or can a reconcilement long continue, With tearful eyes, and trembling limbs, she stands. look, Where indignation seems to strive with grief, Ard. Who would think, Ard. Those tears, methinks, even if her guilt were certain, Might wash away her pains. Alic. Support me, Heaven! 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! O! let me fly-if I have yet the power. Alic. O Arden! do not, do not leave me thus! [Kneels, and holds him. Ard. I pray thee, loose thy hold! Alic. O never, never! Ard. Why should I stay to tell thee of my wrongs, To aggravate thy guilt, and wound thy soul? Of tears, of sighs, of groans, of speechless sorrow, Thou'st broke my heart, Alicia. Alic. Oh! [She falls to the ground. Ard. And canst thou, Can woman pity, whom she hath undone? Why dost thou grasp my knees? what wouldst thou say, If thou couldst find thy speech? Alic. O! mercy, mercy! Ard. Thou hast had none on me; let go my hand! Why dost thou press it to thy throbbing heart, That beats-but not for me? Alic. Then may it ne'er beat more! Ard. At least, I'm sure it did not always so. Thou treasure of more worth than mines of gold! Alic. I am, I will. I ne'er knew joy till now. 'Till happy night, farewell! My best Alicia, Alic. Thus ever may they see us! Sighs are the language of a broken heart, [Ex it. Mos. Forbid it, heaven! quick, let me fly for help. Ard. With sharp reflection: Mosby, I can't bear To be so far obliged to one I've wronged. Mos. Who would not venture life to save a friend? Ard. From you I've not deserved that tender name. Mos. No more of that-would I were worthy of it! Ard. I own my heart, by boiling passions torn, Forgets its gentleness-yet is ever open To melting gratitude. O say what price Can buy your friendship? Mos. Only think me yours. Ard. Easy, indeed. I am too much obliged. Why recked not your good sword its justice on me, When, mad with jealous rage, in my own house, I urged you to my ruin? Mos. I loved you then With the same warmth as now. Ard. What's here! you bleed. Let me bind up your wound. Mos. A trifle, sir Makes me suspect: I like him worse than ever. Ard. Because I like him better? What a churl! Frank. You are credulous, and treat my serious doubts With too much levity. You vex me, Arden. [Exit. Ard. Believe me, friend, you'll laugh at this hereafter. [Erit the other way. MOSBY, having watched FRANKLIN out, re-enters with GREEN. Mos. The surly friend has left him-As I wished You see how eagerly the foolish fowl Ard. Your friendship makes it so. See, Frank- With my two trusty bloodhounds. Alicia seems lin, see Enter FRANKLIN. The man I treated as a coward, bleeding, Mos. Sir, I will not fail. Frank. I shall not come. Ard. Nay, Franklin, that's unkind. Prithee Frank. Nay, urge me not. I have my reasons. Mos. Avoids my company! So much the better. His may not be so proper. [Aside.] An hour hence, If you are not engaged, we'll meet at Fowl's. Mos. 'Till then I take my leave. [Erit Mosby. Ard. No doubt he loves me; and I blush to How I've suspected him, and wronged Alicia. Frank. May you be ever happy in your wife: But Averse at present. 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 observed. Green. Good-'tis a death, that leaves Do you seek Michael, I'll instruct the rest. I take you now. Green. Arden! thou'rt taken now indeed. Mos. His body, thrown behind the abbey-wall, Shall be descried by the early passenger, Returning from the fair. My friend, thy hand; Shakes it? Be firm, and our united strength With ease shall cast dead Arden to the earth. Green. Thanks to his foolish tenderness of soul! Mos. True; he, who trusts an old inveterate foe, Bares his own breast, and courts the fatal blow. [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I.-Arden's House. ALICIA alone. What have I heard! Is this the house of Arden! Wander-no matter where-Turn but from Thou canst not miss thy way-The house is I am suspected-Michael guards the door— Alic. Now, whither are they gone? The door's I hear the sound of feet. Should it be Arden, But hark! the fiends approach. Green had hu- 'Tis Mosby, and alone. [Enter Mosby.] Šir, hear manity. Enter GREEN, BLACK WILL, SHAKEBAG, and MICHAEL. Could I prevail on him! O sir [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 madam Arden there-A prize worth them all to me. B. Will. And shall that fawning, white-livered 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. Alic. But for one single night [To Alicia. Green. I'd not defer his fate a single hour, Alic. O mercy, mercy! Green. Yes, Such mercy as the nursing lioness, When drained of moisture by her eager young, B. Will. Who talks of mercy, when I am here? Laughs at her coward arts. Why, Michael! Mich. Sir! me, Mosby. Mos. Madam, is this a time? Alic. I will be heard, [She sighs. Make me not sad, Alicia: For my sake Ard. Nay, I am too well convinced [Knocking gently at the gate. A large amends, Alicia. Look upon him, Green. Thou bloodless coward, what dost Dost thou not hear a knocking at the gate? As on the man, that gave your husband life. And cast this load of horror from my soul: shaw- Mos. I see my presence is offensive there. [Going. Ard. Alicia! No-she has no will but mine. Mos. It is not fit she should: and yet-perhaps Twere better, sir-Permit me to retire. Ard. No more Our friendship,publicly avowed, Will clear her injured virtue to the world. Mos. Something there is in that— Ard. It is a debt 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. Alic. [Aside.] O just Heaven! Wilt thou not interpose?-How dread this pause! When thousand terrors crowd the narrow space. Ard. Your thoughts are absent, Mosby. B. Will. Blood! why don't Mosby give the word? [Aside. Mich. Give back, the game's against him. Alic. Fly, Franklin! fly, to save thy Arden's life. Murder herself, that chases him in view, Beholding me, starts back, and, for a moment, Suspends her thirst of blood. [Aside. Ard. Come, give it up; I told you I should [Rises. win. Mos. No, I see an advantage; move again. 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 his defence, till Mosby getting behind, and seizing his arm, the rest assassinate him.] Alic. O Power omnipotent! make strong his arm! Give him to conquer! Ha! my prayers are curses, And draw down vengeance where they meant a blessing. Ard. Inhospitable villain! Ard. O hold your bloody-Mosby too! Nay, then, [Falling. I yield me to my fate. Is this, Alicia, Who who are these? But I forgive you all. Thy hand, Alicia. Alic. I'll not give it thee. Ard. O wretched woman! have they killed thee, too? A deadly paleness, agony, and horror, Is loth to leave, unreconciled to thee, How have I doated to idolatry! Vain, foolish wretch, and thoughtless of hereafter, Nor hoped, nor wished a heaven beyond her love. Now, unprepared, I perish by her hate. Alic. Though blacker, and more guilty, than the fiends, My soul is white from this accursed deed. Ard. Full of doubts, I come, O thou Supreme, to seek thy awful presence. [Dies. Alic. Turn not from me: Behold me, pity me, survey my sorrows! I, who despised the duty of a wife, Will be thy slave. Spit on me, spurn me, sir, I'll love thee still. O couldst thou court my My sliding feet, as they move trembling forwards, Are drenched in blood. O may I only fancy That Arden there lies murdered Mos. How fares Alicia? Alic. As the howling damned: and thou my hell Mar. Unhappy brother! If thou hast done this deed, hope not to escape: |