O. Wilm. Nor would I live to see it-But dis- [Weeps. Faithful companion of my happier days, Enter AGNES, and after her Young WILMOT. Y. Wilm. You are, I presume, [Gives a letter. O. Wilm. [Having read the letter.] As this poor house affords, you may command. Revives in us the memory of a loss, Which, though long since, we have not learned to bear. Who only favours youth, as feeble age To dry our tears, and dissipate despair. Agn. The last and most abandoned of our By heaven and earth neglected or despised, Y. Wilm. Let ghosts unpardoned, or devoted Fear without hope, and wail in such sad strains; repeated, And have, believing, been as oft deceived. Y. Wilm. Behold in me an instance of its truth. To worse than these, the sum of all distress O. Wilm. A rare example Of fortune's changes; apter to surprise Agn. Alas! Who knows, But we were rendered childless by some storm, Y. Wilm. How has my curiosity betrayed me Y. Wilm. The joy to see them, and the bitter Their souls, transported, their frail mansions quit, pain It is to see them thus, touches my soul -They know me not, and yet I shall, I fear, Enough, though nothing more should be implied, But she, perhaps, has purposed to enrich And leave them breathless in my longing arms. I may repose myself. You will excuse O. Wilm. I pray no more: Believe we're only That you should think any excuse were needful. Y. Wilm. The weight of this to me is some incumbrance, [Takes a casket out of his bosom, and gives it to his mother. And its contents of value: If you please To take the charge of it 'till I awake, Distracted as I am with various woes, I shall remember that. [Erit, with Old Wilmot. Y. Wilm. Merciless grief! What ravage has it made! how has it changed Her lovely form and mind! I feel her anguish, And dread I know not what from her despair. My father too-O grant them patience, Heaven! A little longer, a few short hours more, And all their cares, and mine, shall end for ever. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-The Scene continues. ACT III. Enter AGNES alone, with the casket in her hand. Agn. WHO should this stranger be? And then this casket He says it is of value, and yet trusts it, It is not what he says-I am strongly tempted My eyes are dazzled, and my ravished heart Leaps at the glorious sight. How bright's the lustre, And how immense the worth, of these fair jewels! At our approach, and once more bend before us. touched The bright temptation, and I see it yet 'Tis here 'tis mine-I have it in possessionMust I resign it? Must I give it back? Am I in love with misery and want, To rob myself, and court so vast a loss? Retain it then-But how? There is a wayWhy sinks my heart? Why does my blood run cold? Why am I thrilled with horror? 'Tis not choice, But dire necessity suggests the thought. Enter Old WILMOT. O. Wilm. The mind contented, with how little pains The wandering senses yield to soft repose! And with a look, that pierced me to the soul, Begged me to comfort thee: And-dost thou hear me? What art thou gazing on? Fie, 'tis not well. Agn. And who shall know it? O. Wilm. There is a kind of pride, a decent dignity Due to ourselves; which, spite of our misfortunes, May be maintained, and cherished to the last. To live without reproach, and without leave To quit the world, shews sovereign contempt, And noble scorn of its relentless malice. Agn. Shews sovereign madness, and a scorn of serise. Pursue no farther this detested theme: I will not die; I will not leave the world O. Wilm. To chase a shadow, when the setting sun Is darting his last rays, were just as wise Now the last means for its support are failing: Die how you will, you shall not die alone. O Wilm. There is no fear of that. Agn. Then, we'll live both. O. Wilm. Strange folly? where the means? Agn. There those jewels! O. Wilm. Ha! Take heed! Perhaps thou dost but try me-yet take heed! There's nothing so monstrous but the mind of man, In some conditions, may be bought to approve: So advantageous, so secure, and easy; Agn. 'Tis less impiety, less against nature, ⚫ To take another's life, than end our own. O. Wilm. No matter which, the less or greater crime: Howe'er we may deceive ourselves or others, Or none could act amiss: and that all err, For our own preservation. O. Wilm. Rest contented: Agn. Then nought remains But the swift execution of a deed, That is not to be thought on, or delayed O. Wilm. Generous unhappy man! O! what could move thee To put thy life and fortune in the hands Shall we effect his death? O. Wilm. Why, what a fiend! How cruel, how remorseless and impatient Agn. Barbarous man! Whose wasteful riots ruined our estate, And drove our son, ere the first down had spread His rosy checks, spite of my sad presages, Earnest intreaties, agonies, and tears, And bring me word, if he be still asleep. Or I'm deceived, or he pronounced himself He'll never know the loss, Nor feel the bitter pangs of disappointment- Is all the happiest of mankind can hope for. Enter AGNES with YOUNG WILMOT's dagger. restless His slumbers seem, they can't continue long. O. Wilm. O Agnes! Agnes! if there be a hell, 'Tis just we should expect it. [Goes to take the dagger, but lets it fall. Agn. Shake off this panic, and be more yourself! O. Wilm. What's to be done? On what had we determined? Agn. You're quite dismayed. [Takes up the dagger. O. Wilm. Give me the fatal steel. 'Tis but a single murder, Necessity, impatience, and despair, The three wide mouths of that true Cerberus, Grim poverty, demand: they shall be stopped. Ambition, persecution, and revenge, To seek his bread amongst strangers, and to Devour their millions daily: And shall I— perish In some remote, inhospitable land; I ought not to reproach thee, I confess That thou hast suffered much: So have we both. But chide no more; I am wrought up to thy purpose. The poor, ill-fated, unsuspecting victim, But follow me, and see how little cause [Going the wrong way. Agn. Where do you go? The street is that way. O. Wilm. True! I had forgot. way. O. Wilm. Well, I recover.-I shall find the [Exit, Agn. O softly! softly! The least noise undoes us. What are we doing? Misery and want What! doth my heart recoil!- -O Wilmot! What power shall I invoke to aid thee, Wilmot? [Exit. Enter CHARLOTTE, EUSTACE, and RANDAL. Char. What strange neglect! The doors are all unbarred, And not a living creature to be seen! Enter Old WILMOT and AGNES. Char. Sir, we are come to give and to receive What prodigy of horror is disclosing, O. Wilm. Prithee, peace! The miserable damned suspend their howling, And the swift orbs are fixed in deep attention. Rand. What mean these dreadful words, and frantic air! That is the dagger my young master wore. Eust. My mind misgives me. Do not stand to gaze On these dumb phantoms of despair and horror! Let us search further; Randal, shew the way. [Exeunt. Agn. Let life forsake the earth, and light the sun, And death and darkness bury in oblivion Mankind and all their deeds, that no posterity May ever rise to hear our horrid tale, Or view the grave of such detested parricides! O. Wilm. Curses and deprecations are in vain: The sun will shine, and all things have their course, When we, the curse and burden of the earth, I durst not trust thy weakness. Agn. Ever kiud, But most in this! O. Wilm. I will not long survive thee. Enter RANDAL and EUSTACE. Eust. O Wilmot! Wilmot ! Are these the fruits of all thy anxious cares For thy ungrateful parents?- -Cruel fiends! O. Wilm. What whining fool art thou, who would'st usurp My sovereign right of grief!-Was he thy son?Say! Canst thou shew thy hands reeking with blood, That flowed, through purer channels, from thy loins? Compute the sands that bound the spacious ocean, Ó. Wilm. O would they end A thousand ages hence, I then should suffer [Dies. Rand. Heaven grant they may! And may thy penitence atone thy crime ! Tend well the hapless Charlotte, and hear hence These bleeding victims of despair and pride; Toll the death bell! and follow to the grave The wretched parents and ill-fated son. [Exeunt omnes. SCENE I.-The street before ARDEN's door. Enter MOSBY. Mos. THE morning's dark, and horrid as my purpose. Thrice have my snares been laid for Arden's life, pleads Some fancied right. Michael, the trencher favourite, A bastard, bred of Arden's charity, Maria is his price. I've placed her here, She could deny me nothing. This to try. SCENE II-A chamber. Enter ARDEN in his night-gown. Ard. Unhappy Arden, whither canst thou wander To lay thy heavy load of sorrows down! |