_Elw._ No matter;
Who knows what love and madness may attempt?
But here I swear by all that binds the good,
Never to see him more.--Unhappy Douglas!
O if thy troubled spirit still is conscious
Of our past woes, look down, and hear me swear,
That when the legacy thy rage bequeath'd me
Works at my heart, and conquers struggling nature,
Ev'n in that agony I'll still be faithful.
She who could never love, shall yet obey, thee,
Weep thy hard fate, and die to prove her truth.
_Bir._ O unexampled virtue! [_a noise without._
_Elw._ Heard you nothing?
By all my fears the insulting conqueror comes.
O save me, shield me!
_Enter Douglas._
Heaven and earth, my husband!
_Dou._ Yes----
To blast thee with the sight of him thou hat'st,
Of him thou hast wrong'd, adultress, 'tis thy husband.
_Elw._ [_kneels._] Blest be the fountain of eternal mercy,
This load of guilt is spar'd me! Douglas lives!
Perhaps both live! [_to Birtha._] Could I be sure of that,
The poison were superfluous, joy would kill me.
_Dou._ Be honest now, for once, and curse thy stars;
Curse thy detested fate which brings thee back
A hated husband, when thy guilty soul
Revell'd in fond, imaginary joys
With my too happy rival; when thou flew'st,
To gratify impatient, boundless passion,
And join adulterous lust to bloody murder;
Then to reverse the scene! polluted woman!
Mine is the transport now, and thine the pang.
_Elw._ Whence sprung the false report that thou had'st fall'n?
_Dou._ To give thy guilty breast a deeper wound,
To add a deadlier sting to disappointment,
I rais'd it--I contriv'd--I sent it thee.
_Elw._ Thou seest me bold, but bold in conscious virtue.
--That my sad soul may not be stain'd with blood,
That I may spend my few short hours in peace,
And die in holy hope of Heaven's forgiveness,
Relieve the terrors of my lab'ring breast,
Say I am clear of murder--say he lives,
Say but that little word, that Percy lives,
And Alps and oceans shall divide us ever,
As far as universal space can part us.
_Dou._ Canst thou renounce him?
_Elw._ Tell me that he lives,
And thou shall be the ruler of my fate,
For ever hide me in a convent's gloom,
From cheerful day-light, and the haunts of men,
Where sad austerity and ceaseless prayer
Shall share my uncomplaining day between them.
_Dou._ O, hypocrite! now, Vengeance, to thy office.
I had forgot--Percy commends him to thee,
And by my hand--
_Elw._ How--by thy hand?
_Dou._ Has sent thee
This precious pledge of love. [_he gives her Percy's scarf._
_Elw._ Then Percy's dead!
_Dou._ He is.--O great revenge, thou now art mine!
See how convulsive sorrow rends her frame!
This, this is transport!--injur'd honour now
Receives its vast, its ample retribution.
She sheds no tears, her grief's too highly wrought;
'Tis speechless agony.--She must not faint--
She shall not 'scape her portion of the pain.
No! she shall feel the fulness of distress,
And wake to keen perception of her loss.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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