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_Elw._ But, glory!
_Per._ Enough! a ray of thy sublimer spirit Has warm'd my dying honour to a flame!
One effort and 'tis done. The world shall say, When they shall speak of my disastrous love, Percy deserv'd Elwina though he lost her.
Fond tears, blind me not yet! a little longer, Let my sad eyes a little longer gaze, And leave their last beams here.
_Elw._ [_turns from him._] I do not weep.
_Per._ Not weep? then why those eyes avoiding mine?
And why that broken voice? those trembling accents?
That sigh which rends my soul?
_Elw._ No more, no more.
_Per._ That pang decides it. Come--I'll die at once; Thou Power supreme! take all the length of days, And all the blessings kept in store for me, And add to her account.--Yet turn once more, One little look, one last, short glimpse of day, And then a long dark night.--Hold, hold, my heart, O break not yet, while I behold her sweetness; For after this dear, mournful, tender moment, I shall have nothing more to do with life.
_Elw._ I do conjure thee, go.
_Per._ 'Tis terrible to nature!
With pangs like these the soul and body part!
And thus, but oh, with far less agony, The poor departing wretch still grasps at being, Thus clings to life, thus dreads the dark unknown, Thus struggles to the last to keep his hold; And when the dire convulsive groan of death Dislodges the sad spirit--thus it stays, And fondly hovers o'er the form it lov'd.
Once and no more--farewell, farewell!
_Elw._ For ever!
[_they look at each other for some time, then exit Percy.
After a pause;_
'Tis past--the conflict's past! retire, my Birtha, I would address me to the throne of grace.
_Bir._ May Heaven restore that peace thy bosom wants! [_exit Birtha._
_Elw._ [_kneels._] Look down, thou, awful, heart-inspecting Judge, Look down with mercy on thy erring creature, And teach my soul the lowliness it needs!
And if some sad remains of human weakness Should sometimes mingle with my best resolves, O breathe thy spirit on this wayward heart, And teach me to repent th' intruding sin In it's first birth of thought!
[_Noise within._] What noise is that?
The clash of swords! should Douglas be return'd!
_Enter Douglas and Percy, fighting._
_Dou._ Yield, villain, yield!
_Per._ Not till this good right arm Shall fail its master.
_Dou._ This to thy heart, then.
_Per._ Defend thy own. [_they fight; Percy disarms Douglas._
_Dou._ Confusion, death, and h.e.l.l!
_Edr._ [_without_] This way I heard the noise.
_Enter Edric, and many Knights and Guards, from every part of the stage._
_Per._ Cursed treachery!
But dearly will I sell my life.
_Dou._ Seize on him.
_Per._ I'm taken in the toils.
[_Percy is surrounded by Guards, who take his sword._
_Dou._ In the cursed snare Thou laid'st for me, traitor, thyself art caught.
_Elw._ He never sought thy life.
_Dou._ Adulteress, peace!
The villain Harcourt too--but he's at rest.
_Per._ Douglas, I'm in thy power; but do not triumph, Percy's betray'd, not conquer'd. Come, dispatch me.
_Elw._ [_to Douglas_] O do not, do not, kill him!
_Per._ Madam, forbear; For by the glorious shades of my great fathers, Their G.o.dlike spirit is not so extinct, That I should owe my life to that vile Scot.
Though dangers close me round on every side, And death besets me, I am Percy still.
_Dou._ Sorceress, I'll disappoint thee--he shall die, Thy minion shall expire before thy face, That I may feast my hatred with your pangs, And make his dying groans, and thy fond tears, A banquet for my vengeance.
_Elw._ Savage tyrant!
I would have fallen a silent sacrifice, So thou had'st spar'd my fame.--I never wrong'd thee.
_Per._ She knew not of my coming;--I alone Have been to blame--Spite of her interdiction, I hither came. She's pure as spotless saints.
_Elw._ I will not be excus'd by Percy's crime; So white my innocence, it does not ask The shade of others' faults to set it off; Nor shall he need to sully his fair fame To throw a brighter l.u.s.tre round my virtue.
_Dou._ Yet he can only die--but death for honour!
Ye powers of h.e.l.l, who take malignant joy In human bloodshed, give me some dire means, Wild as my hate, and desperate as my wrongs!
_Per._ Enough of words. Thou know'st I hate thee, Douglas; 'Tis stedfast, fix'd, hereditary hate, As thine for me; our fathers did bequeath it As part of our unalienable birthright, Which nought but death can end.--Come, end it here.
_Elw._ [_kneels_] Hold, Douglas, hold!--not for myself I kneel, I do not plead for Percy, but for thee: Arm not thy hand against thy future peace, Spare thy brave breast the tortures of remorse,-- Stain not a life of unpolluted honour, For, oh! as surely as thou strik'st at Percy, Thou wilt for ever stab the fame of Douglas.
_Per._ Finish the b.l.o.o.d.y work.
_Dou._ Then take thy wish.
_Per._ Why dost thou start?
[_Percy bares his bosom. Douglas advances to stab him, and discovers the scarf._