Locrine: A Tragedy - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[Dies.
ESTRILD.
Thou thought'st to cleave in twain my life and To cast my hand away in death, Locrine?
See now if death have drawn thee far from me!
[Stabs herself.
SABRINA.
Thou diest, and hast not slain me, mother?
ESTRILD.
Thee?
Forgive me, child! and so may they forgive.
[Dies.
SABRINA.
O mother, canst thou die and bid me live?
Enter GUENDOLEN, MADAN, and Soldiers.
GUENDOLEN.
Dead? Ah! my traitor with his harlot fled h.e.l.lward?
MADAN.
Their child is left thee.
GUENDOLEN.
She! not dead?
SABRINA.
Thou hast slain my mother and sire--thou hast slain thy lord - Strike now, and slay me.
GUENDOLEN.
Smite her with thy sword.
MADAN.
I know not if I dare. I dare not.
GUENDOLEN.
Shame Consume thee!--Thou--what call they, girl, thy name?
Daughter of Estrild,--daughter of Locrine, - Daughter of death and darkness!
SABRINA.
Yet not thine.
Darkness and death are come on us, and thou, Whose servants are they: heaven behind thee now Stands, and withholds the thunder: yet on me He gives thee not, who helps and comforts thee, Power for one hour of darkness. Ere thine hand Can put forth power to slay me where I stand Safe shall I sleep as these that here lie slain.
GUENDOLEN.
She dares not--though the heart in her be fain, The flesh draws back for fear. She dares not.
SABRINA.
See!
I change no more of warring words with thee O father, O my mother, here am I: They hurt me not who can but bid me die.
[She leaps into the river.
GUENDOLEN.
Save her! G.o.d pardon me!
MADAN.
The water whirls Down out of sight her tender face, and hurls Her soft light limbs to deathward. G.o.d forgive - Thee, sayest thou, mother? Wouldst thou bid her live?
GUENDOLEN.
What have we done?
MADAN.
The work we came to do.
That G.o.d, thou said'st, should stand for judge of you Whose judgment smote with mortal fire and sword Troy, for such cause as bade thee slay thy lord.
Now, as between his fathers and their foes The lord of G.o.ds dealt judgment, winged with woes And girt about with ruin, hath he sent On these destruction.
GUENDOLEN.
Yea.
MADAN.
Art thou content?
GUENDOLEN.
The G.o.ds are wise who lead us--now to smite, And now to spare: we dwell but in their sigh And work but what their will is. What hath been Is past. But these, that once were king and queen, The sun, that feeds on death, shall not consume Naked. Not I would sunder tomb from tomb Of these twain foes of mine, in death made one - I, that when darkness hides me from the sun Shall sleep alone, with none to rest by me.
But thou--this one time more I look on thee - Fair face, brave hand, weak heart that wast not mine - Sleep sound--and G.o.d be good to thee, Locrine.
I was not. She was fair as heaven in spring Whom thou didst love indeed. Sleep, queen and king, Forgiven; and if--G.o.d knows--being dead, ye live, And keep remembrance yet of me--forgive.
