_Edr._ In the last solemn article of death, That truth-compelling state, when even bad men Fear to speak falsely, Percy clear'd her fame. _Dou._ I heard him--'Twas the guilty fraud of love. The scarf, the scarf! that proof of mutual passion, Given but this day to ratify their crimes! _Bir._ What means my lord? This day? That fatal scarf Was given long since, a toy of childish friendship; Long ere your marriage, ere you knew Elwina. _Raby._ 'Tis I am guilty. _Dou._ Ha! _Raby._ I,--I alone. Confusion, honour, pride, parental fondness, Distract my soul,--Percy was not to blame, He was--the destin'd husband of Elwina! He loved her--was belov'd--and I approv'd. The tale is long.--I chang'd my purpose since, Forbad their marriage-- _Dou._ And confirm'd my mis'ry! Twice did they meet to-day--my wife and Percy. _Raby._ I know it. _Dou._ Ha! thou knew'st of my dishonour? Thou wast a witness, an approving witness, At least a tame one! _Raby._ Percy came, 'tis true, A constant, tender, but a guiltless lover! _Dou._ I shall grow mad indeed; a guiltless lover! Percy, the guiltless lover of my wife! _Raby._ He knew not she was married. _Dou._ How? is't possible? _Raby._ Douglas, 'tis true; both, both were innocent; He of her marriage, she of his return. _Bir._ But now, when we believ'd thee dead, she vow'd Never to see thy rival. Instantly, Not in a state of momentary passion, But with a martyr's dignity and calmness, She bade me bring the poison. _Dou._ Had'st thou done it, Despair had been my portion! Fly, good Birtha, Find out the suffering saint--describe my penitence, And paint my vast extravagance of fondness, Tell her I love as never mortal lov'd-- Tell her I know her virtues, and adore them-- Tell her I come, but dare not seek her presence, Till she pronounce my pardon. _Bir._ I obey. [_exit Birtha._ _Raby._ My child is innocent! ye choirs of saints, Catch the blest sounds--my child is innocent! _Dou._ O I will kneel, and sue for her forgiveness, And thou shalt help me plead the cause of love, And thou shalt weep--she cannot sure refuse A kneeling husband and a weeping father. Thy venerable cheek is wet already. _Raby._ Douglas! it is the dew of grateful joy! My child is innocent! I now would die, Lest fortune should grow weary of her kindness, And grudge me this short transport. _Dou._ Where, where, is she? My fond impatience brooks not her delay; Quick, let me find her, hush her anxious soul, And sooth her troubled spirit into peace. _Enter Birtha._ _Bir._ O horror, horror, horror! _Dou._ Ah! what mean'st thou? _Bir._ Elwina-- _Dou._ Speak-- _Bir._ Her grief wrought up to frenzy, She has, in her delirium, swallow'd poison! _Raby._ Frenzy and poison! _Dou._ Both a husband's gift; But thus I do her justice. _As Douglas goes to stab himself, enter Elwina distracted, her hair dishevelled, Percy's scarf in her hand._