IDONEA Miserable Woman, Too quickly moved, too easily giving way, I put denial on thy suit, and hence, With the disastrous issue of last night, Thy perturbation, and these frantic words. Be calm, I pray thee! MARMADUKE Oswald-- IDONEA Name him not. [Enter Female Beggar.] BEGGAR And he is dead!--that Moor--how shall I cross it? By night, by day, never shall I be able To travel half a mile alone.--Good Lady! Forgive me!--Saints forgive me. Had I thought It would have come to this!-- IDONEA What brings you hither? speak! BEGGAR (pointing to MARMADUKE) This innocent Gentleman. Sweet heavens! I told him Such tales of your dead Father!--God is my judge, I thought there was no harm: but that bad Man, He bribed me with his gold, and looked so fierce. Mercy! I said I know not what--oh pity me-- I said, sweet Lady, you were not his Daughter-- Pity me, I am haunted;--thrice this day My conscience made me wish to be struck blind; And then I would have prayed, and had no voice. IDONEA (to MARMADUKE) Was it my Father?--no, no, no, for he Was meek and patient, feeble, old and blind, Helpless, and loved me dearer than his life --But hear me. For _one_ question, I have a heart That will sustain me. Did you murder him? MARMADUKE No, not by stroke of arm. But learn the process: Proof after proof was pressed upon me; guilt Made evident, as seemed, by blacker guilt, Whose impious folds enwrapped even thee; and truth And innocence, embodied in his looks, His words and tones and gestures, did but serve With me to aggravate his crimes, and heaped Ruin upon the cause for which they pleaded. Then pity crossed the path of my resolve: Confounded, I looked up to Heaven, and cast, Idonea! thy blind Father, on the Ordeal Of the bleak Waste--left him--and so he died!-- [IDONEA sinks senseless; Beggar, ELEANOR, etc., crowd round, and bear her off.] Why may we speak these things, and do no more; Why should a thrust of the arm have such a power, And words that tell these things be heard in vain? _She_ is not dead. Why!--if I loved this Woman, I would take care she never woke again; But she WILL wake, and she will weep for me, And say, no blame was mine--and so, poor fool, Will waste her curses on another name. [He walks about distractedly.] [Enter OSWALD.]