This beating storm will crush my feeble age!

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.

_Enter_ RIVERS (_not seeing_ GUILDFORD).

_Riv._ Yes, I fondly thought Not all the tales which malice might devise, Not all the leagues combined h.e.l.l might form, Could shake her steady soul.

_Guild._ What means my son?

Where is thy bride?

_Riv._ O name her not!

_Guild._ Not name her?

_Riv._ 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 fills 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 raptur'd ear, this charming Julia Will be thy wife.

_Riv._ No.

_Guild._ How?

_Riv._ She has refus'd.

_Guild._ Say'st thou?

_Riv._ She has.

_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 blush'd, she wept, and vow'd it could not be; That reasons of importance to our peace Forbad the nuptial rites to be perform'd 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 liv'd 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.

_Riv._ I would not deeper wound my father's peace; But I would hide the cause of my resentment, Till all be known; and yet I know too much.

It must be so--his grief, his sudden parting: Fool that I was, not to perceive at once-- But friendship blinded me, and love betray'd.

Bertrand was right, he told me she was chang'd, And would, on some pretence, delay the marriage.

I hop'd 'twas malice all.--Yonder she comes, Dissolv'd in tears; I cannot see them fall, And be a man; I will not, dare not meet her; Her blandishments would soothe me to false peace, And if she ask'd it, I should pardon all. [_Exit._

_Enter_ JULIA.

_Jul._ Stay, Rivers! stay, barbarian! hear me speak!

Return, inhuman!--best belov'd, return: Oh! I will tell thee all, restore thy peace, Kneel at thy feet, and sue for thy forgiveness.

He hears me not--alas! he will not hear.

Break, thou poor heart, since Rivers is unkind.

_Enter_ ORLANDO.

_Or._ Julia in tears!

_Jul._ Alas! you have undone me!

Behold the wretched victim of her promise!

I urg'd, at your request, the fatal suit Which has destroy'd my peace; Rivers suspects me, And I am wretched!

_Or._ Better 'tis to weep A temporary ill than weep for ever; That anguish must be mine.

_Jul._ Ha! weep for ever!

Can they know wretchedness who know not love?

_Or._ Not love! oh, cruel friendship! tyrant honour!

_Jul._ Friendship! alas, how cold art thou to love!

_Or._ Too well I know it; both alike destroy me, I am the slave of both, and more than either The slave of honour.

_Jul._ If you then have felt The bitter agonies----

_Or._ Talk _you_ of agonies?

You who are lov'd again! No! they are mine; Mine are the agonies of hopeless pa.s.sion; Yes, I do love--I dote, I die for love!

(_He falls at her feet._) Julia!

_Jul._ What dost thou mean? Unfold this fatal secret.

_Or._ Nay, never start--I know I am a villain!

I know thy hand is destin'd to another, That other, too, my friend, that friend the man To whom I owe my life! Yes, I adore thee; Spite of the black ingrat.i.tude, adore thee; I dote upon my friend and yet betray him; I'm bound to Emmelina, yet forsake her; I honour virtue while I follow guilt; I love the n.o.ble Rivers more than life, But Julia more than honour.

_Jul._ Hold! astonishment Has seal'd my lips; whence sprung this monstrous daring?

_Or._ (_rises._) From despair.

_Jul._ What can you hope from me?

_Or._ Hope! nothing.

I would not aught receive, aught hope, but death.

Think'st thou I need reproach? think'st thou I need To be reminded that my love's a crime?

That every moral tie forbids my pa.s.sion?

But though I know that heav'n has plagues in store, Yet mark--I do not, will not, can't repent; I do not even wish to love thee less; I glory in my crime: pernicious beauty!