Cromwell - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
_Eliz._ [_Throwing down the book._] The black print seems all red--I cannot read!
[_Points to the inner room._]
Mine eyes burn so--And they are happy there Together--'twas my work--and now I wish That seas convuls'd by tempests were between them; And an eternal veil of blackness girded The one from the other--each in separate light, But still apart! apart! O horror, why Doth their communion cast such hopeless gloom Upon me, more than all a father's guilt, A sovereign's woe?--O daughter of a traitor!
Traitoress! Thou lovest him thy friend doth love, And--he loves her! ay, that is it, he loves her.
[_Laughs hysterically._]
I am a wedded wife. There is no stain Of guilty wish. I ne'er thought to be his: No! no! False wretch, thou dost this moment. Hold, 'Tis past!
Oh! would that I were far remov'd, Not seeing, hearing, knowing all their lore, Not feeling their young blest affection jar Through every fibre--thus!
This is the day The king's fate is decided--If he die Arthur will hate us, hate my father, me, The regicide's pale daughter--thus to think Of the king's life! that was my only prayer Before; and now it fades on my cold lips, And startles me to hear it! [_MUSIC is heard within._]
O my heart!
It seems as though a thousand daggers' points Would not suffice to stab it, so it might Feel some release-- [_Falls on her knees._]
My G.o.d! forsake me not!
_As the music ends, enter the LADY CROMWELL; she approaches her daughter, and, bending over her, lifts her up._
_Lady Crom._ What is it, child?--I have now heard from Fairfax: He saith it will not be--Thy father is But stern unto the last-- He'll pray to G.o.d And G.o.d will aid him--
_Eliz._ But _His_ judgments, mother!
Are awful. Did not Christ condemn the mind That is polluted with a guilty thought, As if 'twere done?
_Lady Crom._ This weary thought of hers About the king hath turn'd her brain.
Dear daughter, Rouse thee, he will not die!
_Enter a Messenger, others of the family, the LADY FAIRFAX in deep mourning._
_Lady Fairf._ The king is sentenced.
Death! [_Bell tolls._]
_ELIZABETH, raising herself, falls back into her Mother's arms with a sudden scream. They carry her back._
_Enter ARTHUR and FLORENCE._
_Arth._ Then, madam, let us part--'tis better.
_Flor._ Yes, I think so, sir.
_Arth._ I cannot brook this treatment--
_Flor._ I do not wish you--
_Arth._ Heartless!
_Flor._ Certainly, A heart is troublesome; it oft makes fools Of those that own it-- I should hate a man Made me ridiculous.
_Arth._ Farewell!
_Flor._ Farewell!
[_FLORENCE runs to the LADY ELIZABETH._]
_Arth._ [_Joining the group._] What is the matter?
_One of the Domestics._ Sir, the king is sentenc'd To death; it is too much for her--
_Arth._ Alas!
Is it even so?--
_Flor._ [_To Arthur._] Arthur! here, lend your aid To bear her hence--Elizabeth! 'Tis Florence--
[_He attempts to raise her._]
_Eliz._ I tell you I can stand-- His arm? [_Aside._]
Away! [_Aloud._]
Sir, do not touch me, you ill-treat my friend!
_Flor._ To think she heard, my folly-- Sir, I fancy [_To Arthur._]
She will be better, if you are not here--
[_He bows and is about to retire._]
_Enter CROMWELL and PEARSON followed by two or three officers._
_Crom._ Where be ye all?-- [_To an Officer._] These to your Colonel Pride-- [_Exit officer, L._]
And thou to Rich; tell him to watch and fast, [_To another._]
For I have need of him--[_Exit officer, L._]
What coil is this?--[_To his Family._]
My daughter ill! send a physician, quick: Pearson, look to it-- I am ill myself.
'Twas a sore trial, ye have heard of it-- The man must die--
_Eliz._ No! father, as you hope For mercy, no!
_Crom._ Peace, simpleton. It was The voice of all this people.
_Arth._ General, hear me: Thou hadst the power to save--
_Crom._ Ay! Master Walton, Thou thinkest so?--
_Arth._ I do!--
_Crom._ And dar'st to speak it?
_Arth._ Dare! General Cromwell! [_Takes off his sword._]
Here, look, is my sword, I'll never more bear arms with thee or thine.
_Crom._ I do protest thou wilt not-- Take his sword; [_To an Officer._]
I did not think to find this kite so tame.
