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[_Gaspar, with friar's gown and hood on, returns to Don Perez._
_Gasp._ Look up, Don Perez! Knowest thou this form?
Thou dost require some holy man to shrive thee, Ere thou pa.s.s away.----Don Perez, answer!
Know'st thou this form,--these features?
_Perez._ Thou art the Friar Anselmo. I have wrong'd thee, And ask forgiveness. O then pardon me!
And, as thou hop'st t' enjoy eternal life, Feel no resentment 'gainst a dying man!
(_Faintly._) Shrive me, good father, for I'm sinking fast.
Yon stream of blood will not creep on its course Another foot, ere I shall be no more.
_Gasp._ Thou saw'st Anselmo. Now raise up thine eyes, (_Throws off his disguise._) And see Don Gaspar! who has just reveng'd The wrongs inflicted on the spurn'd at monk.
_Perez._ Whoe'er thou art, mysterious, awful being!
At least be satisfied with thy revenge.
If thou art holy, shrive me!
_Gasp._ I am a monk, and yet not holy (_putting on gown, and folding his arms_).
_Perez._ If thou art a monk by vows, thou'rt holy.
'Tis not my blood that's now upon thy hand, And shall hereafter be upon thy soul, Which makes thee less so: thou'rt but an instrument.
I pray thee, shrive me, that my guilty soul May quit in peace this tenement of clay.
_Gasp._ Does he not speak the truth? Tell me, my heart, I think--I feel----I can forgive him now!
[_Gaspar takes out his crucifix, returns to Don Perez, and, kneeling, presents it to him. Perez kisses the crucifix, and falls back dead. Gaspar remains hanging over him._
_Don Felix_ (_without_). What hoa!
_Enter Don Felix with servants bearing torches._
_Gasp._ (_still kneeling by the body_). Who calls?
_Felix._ We seek Don Perez, who this way did bend His steps some hours ago; and not returning At th' appointed time, we fear some mischief Hath befallen him.
_Gasp._ Behold then here the body of some gallant, Whose face I know not. As I pa.s.s'd this way I heard the clash of high and fierce contention, And when I came, this most unhappy man Lay breathing here his last. I shrived him, And he since has died.
_Felix._ It is Don Perez. Holy father, saw you The other party in the contest?
_Gasp._ Save that a manly figure flitted by, And vanish'd in the shadow of yon trees.
_Felix._ Raise up the corpse, and bear it to my house.
This b.l.o.o.d.y work, Don Gaspar, must be thine!
Perez, thou hear'st me not! but, by this sword, I will revenge thy death!
[_Exit Don Felix and servants carrying body._
_Gasp._ Thus far have I escaped suspicion-- Now will I to the monastery.
[_Cas.e.m.e.nt opens, and Donna Serafina appears at window._]
_Ser._ Who's there?
_Gasp._ (_aside_). I had forgotten her.
_Ser._ Who's there?
_Gasp._ A father of the neighbouring monastery, Attracted hither by the clash of swords, And but in time to shrive a dying man.
_Ser._ Good father, didst thou hear the names of those Who were engaged?
_Gasp._ Not of the murderer, who has escaped.
The one whose body has been borne away, Was call'd----Don Gaspar.
_Ser._ Don Gaspar! Father, surely thou mistak'st?
It was the other cavalier who fell.
_Gasp._ The words of dying men are those of truth; He call'd himself Don Gaspar, and he begg'd I would take off his scarf, and, with his love, Bear it to Donna Serafina.
_Ser._ Then it is true--and I am lost for ever!
Father, recall those words, those dreadful words!
Say 'twas not Don Gaspar, and I'll load Thy monastery with the wealth of India.
Its shrines shall blaze with gold and precious gems, And holy relics shall be purchased thee, To draw all faithful Christians to thy gates!
_Gasp._ I cannot change the name, and, if I could, 'Twere no less a murder. Lady, good-night.
_Ser._ Good father, stop--thou hast a scarf For Donna Serafina. I am she-- Where is it? give it me.
_Gasp._ Are you that woe-struck lady, Serafina?
Alas! indeed you have much cause to grieve.
He loved you well.
_Ser._ Give me the scarf.
_Gasp._ I cannot, lady; 'tis not fit to offer, For it is tinged with blood.
_Ser._ Give me the scarf! I'll kiss away the blood, Or wash it off with tears!
_Gasp._ That I cannot, the cas.e.m.e.nt is too high; Nor can I tarry longer. The last message, Together with the scarf, I will deliver Before to-morrow's sun shall gild these trees.
_Ser._ Then be it so. O Gaspar! Gaspar!
[_Exit from window, and closes it._
_Gasp._ One hour of misery, like hers, exceeds An age of common earthly suffering; And when at last she hears the unvarnish'd truth, 'Twill but perplex her more. Oh destiny!
Why am I thus a blood-stain'd guilty man In early years? still yearning towards virtue, Yet ever falling in the snares of vice!
Now do I loathe the amorous Serafina, Who sacrifices all--her fame--her honour, At Pa.s.sion's shrine. How do I adore The chaste, the innocent, sweet Isidora!
Yet in my love, so ardent and so pure, There's guilt--deep d.a.m.ning guilt--and more, There's cruelty and baseness! I plant a dagger In the fond breast that cherishes the wound; Nor will she feel the pain until withdrawn, And happiness--nay, life--will issue with it.
How inconsistent, selfish, treacherous!
Heav'n pardon me--how can I pardon ask For that I never can forgive myself! [_Exit Gaspar._
