Think of the curse which waits on broken oaths; When next we meet, thou shalt know all. Farewell. [Exit EDRIC. Now, to conceal with care my bosom's anguish, And let her beauty chase away my sorrows! Yes, I would meet her with a face of smilesBut 'twill not be. El. Enter ELWINA. Alas, 'tis ever thus ! Thus ever clouded is his gloomy brow. [Aside. Doug. I were too blest, Elwina, could I hope You met me here by choice, or that your bosom Shar'd the warm transports mine must ever feel At your approach. El. My lord, if I intrude, The cause which brings me claims your gentle pardon. I fear you are not well, and come, unbidden, If haply in my power, my little power, I have the means to minister relief To your affliction? Doug. What unwonted goodness! The heart demands a heart; nor will be paid El. My lord, I hoped the thousand daily proofs Of my obedience Doug. Death to all my hopes! Heart-rending word! obedience! what's obedience? 'Tis fear, 'tis hate, 'tis terror, 'tis aversion; 'Tis the cold debt of ostentatious duty, Paid with insulting caution; paid to tell me. And trusts the passion it inspires and feels.- To feed a hopeless flame.-But hear, Elwina, El. Say, my lord, As open to the eye of observation, As fearless innocence should ever live? My conduct, or my heart, they've ought discern'd Which did not emulate their purity. Doug. This vindication ere you were accus'd, This warm defence, this warding off attacks Ere they are made, and construing casual words To formal accusations, trust me, madam, Shews rather an alarm'd and vigilant spirit, For ever on the watch to guard its secret, Than the sweet calm of fearless innocence. Who talk'd of guilt? Who testified suspicion? El. Learn, sir, that virtue, while 'tis free from blame, Is modest, lowly, meek, and unassuming; Not apt, like fearful vice, to shield its weakness, Doug. I did not mean to chide! think, But think, O What pangs must rend this fearful, doting heart, Doug. Yes, madam, there is one, one man ador'd, For whom your sighs will heave, your tears will flow, For whom this hated world will still be dear, For whom you still would live El. What may this mean? Hold, hold, my lord, Doug. Ah! I have gone too far. What have I said?-Your father, sure, your father, The good Lord Raby, may at least expect One tender sigh. El. Alas, my lord, I thought The harmless incense of a daughter's sighs Might rise to heav'n, and not offend its ruler. Doug. 'Tis true; yet Raby's self is less belov'd Since he bestow'd his daughter's hand on Douglas : That was a crime the dutiful Elwina Can never pardon; and believe me, madam, I am asham'd to owe my happiness To ties which make you wretched. [Exit DOUGLAS. Ah! how's this? El. Though I have ever found him fierce and rash, Full of obscure surmise and distant hints, Till now he never ventur'd to accuse me. "Yet there is one, one man belov'd, ador'd, For whom your tears will flow:"-these were his words And then the wretched subterfuge of Raby- Enter BIRTHA. Bir. Crossing the portico I met Lord Douglas. Disorder'd were his looks, his eyes shot fire; He call'd upon your name with such distraction, I fear'd some sudden evil had befall'n you. El. Not sudden; no; long has the storm been gathering, Which threatens speedily to burst in ruin On this devoted head. Bir. I ne'er beheld Your gentle soul so ruffled, yet: I've mark'd you, Blest with whate'er the world calls great or good, An hour, a moment in Elwina's life, When her full heart so long'd to ease its load, If my presumptuous lips arraign a father! Doom'd me to die e'er half my days are number'd, El. One summer's morn my father chas'd the deer Bir. On that fam'd spot where first the feuds Between the Earls? El. The same. During the chase, My father, proud and jealous of his honour, ! |