Guild.

I cannot tell thee;

An honest shame, a virtuous pride forbids.

Em. Oh, speak!

Guild. Canst thou not guess, and spare thy father?

Em. 'Tis possible I can and yet I will not : Tell me the worst while I have sense to hear. Thou wilt not speak-nay, never turn away; Dost thou not know that fear is worse than grief? There may be bounds to grief, fear knows no bounds; In grief we know the worst of what we feel, But who can tell the end of what we fear? Grief mourns some sorrow palpable and known, But fear runs wild with horrible conjecture.

Guild. Then hear the worst, and arm thy soul to bear it.

My child!--he has-Orlando has refus'd thee. Em. (after a long pause.) 'Tis well-'tis very well-'tis as it should be.

Guild. Oh, there's an eloquence in that mute wo Which mocks all language. Speak, relieve thy heart, Thy bursting heart; thy father cannot bear it. Am I a man? no more of this, fond eyes! I am grown weaker than a chidden infant. While not a sigh escapes to tell thy pain.

Em. See, I am calm; I do not shed a tear;
The warrior weeps, the woman is a hero!
Guild. (embraces her.) My glorious child! now
thou art mine indeed!

Forgive me if I thought thee fond and weak.
I have a Roman matron for my daughter,
And not a feeble girl. And yet I fear,
For, oh! I know thy tenderness of soul,
I fear this silent anguish but portends

Some dread convulsion soon to burst in horrors.

Em. I will not shame thy blood; and yet, my

father,

Methinks thy daughter should not be refus'd!

Refused! It is a harsh, ungrateful sound;
Thou shouldst have found a softer term of scorn.
And have I then been held so cheap? Refus'd?
Been treated like the light ones of my sex,
Held up to sale? been offer'd, and refused?
Guild. Long have I known thy love; I thought
it mutual;

I met him-talk'd of marriage

Em.

Ah! no more:
I am rejected;-does not that suffice?
Excuse my pride the mortifying tale;
Spare me particulars of how and when,
And do not parcel out thy daughter's shame.
No flowers of rhetoric can change the fact,
No arts of speech can varnish o'er my shame;
Orlando has refus'd me.

Guild.

Villain! villain!

He shall repent this outrage.
Em.
Think no more on't :
I'll teach thee how to bear it; I'll grow proud,
As gentle spirits still are apt to do

When cruel slight or killing scorn assails them.
Come, virgin dignity, come, female pride,
Come, wounded modesty, come, slighted love,
Come, conscious worth, come too, Ŏ black despair!
Support me, arm me, fill me with my wrongs!
Sustain this feeble spirit! Yes, my father,
But for thy share in this sad tale of shame,
I think I could have borne it.

Guild.

He shall assert thy cause.

Em.

Thou hast a brother;

First strike me dead

No, in the wild distraction of my spirit,

In this dread conflict of my breaking heart,

Hear my fond pleading--save me from that curse; Thus I adjure thee by the dearest ties (kneels)

Which link society; by the sweet names

Of parent and of child; by all the joys

These tender chains have yielded, I adjure thee
Breathe not this fatal secret to my brother;
Let him not know his sister was refused!
O spare me that consummate, perfect ruin!
Conceive the mighty wo-I cannot speak :
And tremble to become a childless father.

age!

[Exit EMMELINA. Guild. What art thou, life? thou lying vanity! Thou promiser, who never mean'st to pay! This beating storm will crush my feeble Yet let me not complain; I have a son, Just such a son as heaven in mercy gives, When it would bless supremely; he is happy; His ardent wishes will this day be crown'd; He weds the maid he loves; in him, at least, My soul will yet taste comfort.-See, he's here; He seems disorder'd.

Riv.

Enter RIVERS (not seeing GUILDFORD.)

Yes, I fondly thought Not all the tales which malice might devise, Not all the leagues combined hell might form Could shake her steady soul.

Guild.

Where is thy bride?

Riv.

Guild. Not name her?

Riv.

What means my son?

O name her not!

No, if possible, not think of her;

Would I could help it !Julia! oh my Julia!

Curse my fond tongue! I said I would not name her; I did not think to do it, but my heart

Is full of her idea; her lov'd image

So tills my soul, it shuts out other thoughts;
My lips resolving not to frame the sound,
Dwell on her name, and all my talk is Julia!
Guild. 'Tis as it should be; ere the midnight bell
Sound in thy raptured ear, this charming Julia
Will be thy wife.

Guild. Why, who would be a father !

Who that could guess the wretchedness it brings,
But would entreat of heaven to write him childless?
Riv. 'Twas but a little hour ago we parted,
As happy lovers should; but when again
I sought her presence, with impatient haste,
Told her the priest, the altar, all was ready;
She blushed, she wept, and vowed it could not be;
That reasons of importance to our peace
Forbad the nuptial rites to be performed
Before to-morrow.

Guild.

She consents to-morrow!

She but defers the marriage, not declines it.
Riv. Mere subterfuge! mere female artifice!
What reason should forbid our instant union?
Wherefore to-morrow? wherefore not to-night?
What difference could a few short hours have made?
Or if they could, why not avow the cause?

Guild. I have grown old in camps, have lived in
courts;

The toils of bright ambition have I known,
Woo'd greatness and enjoy'd it, till disgust
Follow'd possession; still I fondly look'd
Through the false perspective for distant joy,
Hop'd for the hour of honourable ease,
When, safe from all the storms and wrecks of fate,
My shatter'd bark at rest, I might enjoy
An old man's blessings, liberty and leisure,
Domestic happiness and smiling peace.
The hour of age indeed is come! I feel it;
Feel it in all its sorrows, pains, and cares;
But where, oh where's th' untasted peace it promis'd?
[Exit GUILDFORD.