Coun. The inkstand—no, a chair. Hen. You seem very uneasy, Madam! Coun. Ah, Henrietta! My situation is inconceivable ! Hen Have you to complain of the Cheva lier? Coun. Quite the contrary. He is too faithful. Hen. That reproach surprises me. Coun. Well it may. I am very wrong. Hen. Marry, and he'll soon be cured: Coun. No, 'tis this that torments mé. Coun. I see you do not understand. What reproaches can I make him? None. Love cannot be more ardent, more delicate. To be ungrateful, contrary to one's wish, and without the least cause of complaint, is dreadful. Hen. I cannot see which way. You are still the same. Coun. Cannot you imagine what his suf ferings will be, when he shall know my indifference. Hen. The loss of a heart like yours, I own, Madam, will be great; but while you da not bestow it on another, how are you to blame? One cannot command one's inclinas tions, and that he should love you is surely no harm. Coun. Shall I practise deceit ? Hen. Such deceit will make him happy. Coun. 'Tis what I am incapable of. Yet to let him see I love no longer is to distract him. I know not what to do! I am so embarrassed when he is present; while that is his only happiness. Hen. In that case, madam, write to him. Hen. I hear him! Determine how to act, Coun. Heavens! Desire him to wait: £ must consider again. ess Enter the CHEVALIER, [Exit. Che. So, Henrietta! Can I see the Count, ? Hen. She is very busy: I will ask, if you please. Che. I wish to speak with her, but I am in no hurry, Hen. I will tell her you are here, Sir. 1. Hen. I will bring you her answer. [Exit. Che. (thoughtful) Why did I stay? How can I tell her?-Could I once have thought 1 should cease to love her ?-Yet, so it is.Her beauty, her tenderness are the same; 'tis that distracts me.-Break with her on the eve of marriage, and without cause?-So it must be! I could endure her hatred, but her contempt will be intolerable.-What shall I say? That I do not love her? I, who have so often sworn to live only for her? To adore her with my dying breath? To-Barbarian! What, plunge a poniard in the bosom of her who loves me so tenderly, from whom she hopes the happiness of her life! I were a monster !-What if I write ?-Ay, I may blush at the indifference that is come over me, but not at an action which proves the integrity of my heart. (reads as he writes) "My heart, madam, has deceived me." Heavens! It will kill her (continues) " But if such be your pleasure, my promise shall be kept. I do not abandon you for another. I am incapable of such perfidy. My loss is much the greatest, since no blessing can equal that love which was once to me so precious." I'll give this letter to Henrietta and fly. (folds and seals it.) Enter HENRIETTA. Hen. My lady, Sir, cannot see you to-day, but has sent you this note. Che. As she pleases. give her that. I too have written : [Exit. Hen! Immediately, Sir. what she is about to read! from suspecting Let me see what her note contains.. -Is it possible? Can I believe my senses? (reads)" Sir, it is with the deepest affliction that I write at present. We must meet no more: I am unworthy of you. I will not deceive you: my happiness is gone: you, and you alone, taught me to hope, but my ungrateful heart has forgot to feel. Your sufferings will not equal mine. You are revenged on me; I deserve to suffer suffering is a debt that I owe you. Do hot afflict yourself too much. Let not your despair make me bitterly repent of having been sincere. Adieu." (he falls into an arm chair: pause) She loves me no longer! how unfeelingly does she tell me so! She was the first! Yet how did I fear to inflict a wound! Ungrateful woman! How have I lost her heart? Oh, she never loved me! Dreadful thought! Is she capable of such deceit ? Horrible situation! Enter the COUNTESS, seeing him seated at a table leaning and covering his face with his hands. Coun. How, Chevalier! Is it possible you can have written this letter? Che. Could I have supposed I should ev er have had a like reproach to make with a certainty of its truth? O Countess, your heart could never have dictated these words! Coun. Can you complain at the very moment your guilt is still greater? When I dreaded the effects of your despair? Che. And can you think, madam, the fear was vain? No! I shall die! Continue live happy, since happiness no longer depends on me. Coun. Ungrateful man! You little know my heart! Or the loss of it would not have thus been felt. I now see my errour. Che. What do I hear? Heavens -The joyful hope-Oh, Madam, if I have rendered myself unworthy a heart so affectionate, time, repentance, every action, will prove it was a strange wandering of the mind, which I myself can never pardon. Happy shall I be if one day you should be less severe. Coun. What shall I say? Che. Can you forgive? Shall I again hope? Do you still love me? Coun. Did I ever cease to love? What did I suffer while I wrote? You have truly said it was a strange wandering of the mind, which I cannot comprehend. Che. Ah! our hearts were formed for each other. Love has been irritated at us both, for having so long deferred our union. Coun. It will be the more durable, the more sincere. Yes, Chevalier, indifference has failed in her aim, and will never attack us again. with my Che. I feel, I feel I shall love latest breath. you [Exeunt Omnes. |