Classic Poem

El. Thou who in judgment still remember'st mercy,
Look down upon my woes, preserve my husband.
Preserve my husband! Ah, I dare not ask it;
My very prayers may pull down ruin on me!
If Douglas should survive, what then becomes
Of — him — I dare not name? And if he conquers,
I've slain my husband. Agonizing state,
When I can neither hope, nor think, nor pray,
But guilt involves me! Sure to know the worst
Were transport to the torture of suspense,
When each event is big with equal horror.
What no one yet! This solitude is dreadful!
My horrors multiply!

Thou messenger of wo!
Bir. Of wo indeed!
El. How! is my husband dead?
Oh speak.
Bir. Your husband lives.
El. Then farewell, Percy!
He was the tenderest, truest! Bless him, Heav'n,
With peace eternal, and a crown of glory!
Bir. Still are you wrong; the combat is not over.
Stay flowing tears, and give me leave to speak.
El. Thou sayst that Percy and my husband live;
Then why this sorrow?
Bir. What a task is mine?
El. Thou talk'st as if I were a child in grief.
New to the knowledge of calamity.
Speak out; unfold thy tale, whate'er it he;
For I am so familiar with affliction,
It cannot come in any shape will shock me.
Bir. How shall I speak? Thy husband —
El. What of Douglas?
Bir. When all was ready for the fatal combat,
He call'd his chosen knights, then draw his sword,
And on it made them swear an awful oath,
Confirm'd by every rite religion bids,
That they would see perform'd his last request,
Be it whate'er it would. — Alas! they swore.
El. What did the dreadful preparation mean?
Bir. Then to their hands he gave a poison'd cup,
Compounded of the deadliest herbs and drugs;
" Take this, " said he, " it is a husband's legacy;
" Percy may conquer — and — I have a wife!
" If Douglas falls, Elwina must not live. "
El. Spirit of Herod! why, 'twas greatly thought!
'Twas worthy of the bosom that conceiv'd it!
Yet sure the project could not be his own;
For there was kindness — there was mercy in it.
Yes, Douglas! yes, my husband, I'll obey thee;
And bless thy bloody genius which devis'd
The deadly means to make obedience pleasant,
To reconcile thy vengeance with my peace.
Bir. O spare, for pity spare my bleeding heart:
Inhuman to the last. Unnatural! poison!
El. My gentle friend, what is there in a name?
The means are little, where the end is kind.
If it disturb thee, do not call it poison;
Call it the sweet oblivion of my cares,
My balm of wo, my cordial of affliction.
The drop of mercy to my fainting soul,
My kind dismission from a world of sorrow,
My cup of bliss, my passport to the skies.
Bir. Hark! what alarm is that?
El. The combat's over!
Now gracious Heav'n, sustain me in the trial,
And bow my spirit to thy just decrees!

Bir. Douglas is fallen.
El. Bring me the poison.
Bir. Never.
El. Where are the knights? I summon you — approach?
Draw near, ye awful ministers of fate,
Dire instruments of posthumous revenge!
Come, I am ready; but your tardy justice
Defrauds the vengeance of the injur'd dead.
Go, see the castle be securely guarded —
Let every gate he barr'd — prevent his entrance.
Bir. Whose entrance?
El. His — the murderer of my husband.
Bir. He's single, we have hosts of friends.
El. No matter:
Who knows what love and madness may attempt?
But here I swear, by all that binds the good,
Never to see him more. — Unhappy Douglas!
O if thy troubled spirit still is conscious
Of our past woes, look down and hear me swear,
That when the legacy thy rage bequeath'd me
Works at my heart, and conquers struggling nature,
E'en in that agony I'll still he faithful.
She who could never love, shall yet obey thee,
Weep thy hard fate, and die to prove her truth.
Bir. O unexampled virtue!
El. Heard you nothing?
By all my fears th' insulting conqueror comes.
O save me, shield me!
Heav'n and earth, my husband!
Doug. Yes — —
To blast thee with the sight of him thou hatest,
Of him thou hast wrong'd; adultress, 'tis thy husband.
El. Blest be the fountain of eternal mercy,
This load of guilt is spar'd me! Douglas lives!
Perhaps both live! Could I be sure of that,
The poison were superfluous, joy would kill me.
Doug. Be honest now for once, and curse thy stars;
Curse thy detested fate, which brings thy husband;
Thy hated husband, when thy guilty soul
Revell'd in fond imaginary joys
With thy more happy paramour — just then
When thy luxurious fancy had combin'd
Adulterous lust with murder — then, just then,
Thus to reverse the scene! polluted woman!
Mine is the transport now, and thine the pang.
El. Whence sprung the false report that thou had'st fallen?
Doug. To give thy guilty breast a deeper wound,
To add a deadlier sting to disappointment,
I rais'd it — I contriv'd — I sent it thee.
El. Thou seest me bold, but bold in conscious virtue.
— That my sad soul may not be stain'd with blood,
That I may spend my few short hours in peace,
And die in holy hope of heav'n's forgiveness,
Relieve the terrors of my lab'ring breast,
Say I am clear of murder — say he lives,
Say but that little word, that Percy lives;
And Alps and oceans shall divide us ever,
As far as universal space can part us.
Doug. Canst thou renounce him?
El. Tell me that he lives,
And thou shalt he the ruler of my fate,
And life or death shall on thy bidding wait.
Yes, thou shalt hide me in a convent's gloom,
From cheerful daylight, and the haunts of men,
Where sad austerity and ceaseless pray'r
Shall share my uncomplaining day between them.
Doug. O hypocrite! now vengeance, to thy office.
I had forgot — Percy commends him to thee,
And by my hand —
El. How — by thy hand?
Doug. Has sent thee
This precious pledge of love.
El. Then Percy's dead?
Doug. He is. O great revenge, thou now art mine!
See how convulsive sorrow reads her frame!
This, this is transport! Injur'd honour, now,
Receives its vast, its ample retribution.
She sheds no tears, her grief's too highly wrought;
'Tis speechless agony. She must not faint —
She shall not 'scape her portion of the pain.
No! she shall feel the fuiness of distress,
And wake to keen perception of her wo.
Bir. Monster! barbarian! leave her to her sorrows.
El. Douglas — think not I faint, because thou seest
The pale and bloodless cheek of wan despair.
Fail me not yet, my spirits; thou cold heart,
Cherish thy freezing current one short moment.
And hear thy mighty loud a little longer.
Doug. Percy, I must avow it, bravely fought, —
Died as a hero should; but, as he fell,
Hear it, fond wanton! call'd upon thy name,
And his last guilty breath sigh'd out — Elwina!
Came — give a loose to rage, and feed my soul
With wild complaints and womanish upbraidings.
El. No:
The sorrow's weak that wastes itself in words.
Mine is substantial anguish — deep, not loud.
I do not rave. Resentment's the return
Of common souls for common injuries.
Light grief is proud of state, and courts compassion;
But there's a dignity in careless sorrow,
A sullen grandeur which disdains complaint.
Rage is for little wrongs — despair is dumb.
Doug. Why, this is well! her sense of wo is strong!
The sharp, keen tooth of gnawing grief devours her,
Feeds on her heart, and pays me back my pangs.
Since I must perish, 'twill be glorious ruin:
I full not singly, but, like some proud tower,
I'll crush surrounding objects in the wreck.
And make the devastation wide and dreadful.

Raby . O whither shall a wretched father turn?
Where fly for comfort? — Douglas, art thou here?
I do not ask for comfort at thy hands.
I'd but one little casket, where I lodg'd
My precious hoard of wealth, and, like an idiot,
I gave my treasure to another's keeping,
Who did not know the value of the gem,
But throw it, like a common thing, away,
And left the plunder'd owner quite a beggar.
Doug. What! art thou come to see thy race dishonour'd,
And thy bright sun of glory set in blood?
I would have spar'd thy virtues and thy age
The knowledge of her infainy.
Raby. 'Tis false.
Had she been base, this sword had drank her blood.
Doug. Ha! dost thou vindicate the wanton?
Raby. Wanton!
Thou hast defam'd a noble lady's honour —
My spotless child — in me behold her champion:
The strength of Hercules will nerve this arm,
When lifted in defence of innocence.
The daughter's virtue for the father's shield.
Will make old Raby still invincible.
Doug. Forbear.
Raby. Thou dost disdain my feeble arm,
And scorn my age.
Doug. There will be blood enough;
Nor need thy withered veins, old lord, be drain'd,
To swell the copious stream.
Raby. Thou wilt not kill her?
Doug. Oh, 'tis a day of horror!

Ed. Where is Douglas?
I come to save him from the deadliest crime
Revenge did ever meditate.
Doug. What mean'st thou!
Ed. This instant fly, and save thy guiltless wife.
Doug. Save that perfidious — — ?
Ed. That much injur'd woman.
Bir. Unfortunate indeed, but O most innocent!
Ed. In the last solemn article of death,
That truth-compelling state, when e'en bad men
Fear to speak falsely, Percy clear'd her fame.
Doug. I heard him — 'Twas the guilty fraud of love.
The scarf, the scarf! that proof of mutual passion
Giv'n hut this day, to ratify their crimes!
Bir. What means my lord? this day? that fatal sear!
Was given long since, a toy of youthful friendship,
Long ere your marriage, ere you knew Elwina.
Raby. 'Tis I am guilty.
Doug. Ha!
Raby. I, I alone.
Confusion, honour, pride, parental fondness
Distract my soul. Percy was not to blame:
He was — the destin'd husband of Elwina!
He lov'd her — was belov'd, — and I approv'd.
The tale is long. — I chang'd my purpose since,
Forbade their marriage.
Doug. And confirm'd my misery!
Twice did they meet to-day — my wife and Percy.
Raby. I know it.
Doug. Ha! thou knew'st of my dishonour!
Thou wast a witness, an approving witness,
At least a tame one!
Raby. Percy came, 'tis true,
A constant, tender, but a guiltless lover!
Doug. I shall grow and indeed! a guiltless lover!
Percy, the guiltless lover of my wife!
Raby. He knew not she was married.
Doug. How is't possible!
Raby. Douglas, 'tis true; both, both were ignorant!
He, of her marriage; she, of his return.
Bir. But now, when we believ'd thee dead, she vow'd
Never to see thy rival. Instantly,
Not in a start of momentary passion,
But with a martyr's dignity and calmness,
She bade me bring the poison.
Doug. Hadst thou done it,
Despair had been my portion! Fly, good Birtha,
Find out the suff'ring saint — describe my grief,
And paint my vast extravagance of fondness.
Tell her I love as never mortal lov'd — —
Tell her I know her virtues, and adore them;
Tell her I come, but dare not seek her presence,
Till she pronounce my pardon.
Bir. I obey.
Raby. My child is innocent! ye choirs of saints,
Catch the blest sounds — my child is innocent!
Doug. O, I will kneel, and sue for her forgiveness,
And thou shalt help me plead the cause of love;
And thou shalt weep — she cannot sure refuse
A kneeling husband and a weeping father.
Thy venerable cheek is wet already.
Raby. Douglas! it is the dew of grateful joy!
My child is innocent! I know would die.
Lest fortune should grow weary of her kindness,
And grudge me this short transport.
Doug. Where, where is she?
My fond impatience brooks not her delay;
Quick let me find her, hush her anxious soul,
And soothe her troubled spirit into peace.

Bir. O horror, horror, horror!
Doug. Ah! what mean'st thou?
Bir. Elwina —
Doug. Speak. —
Bir. Her grief wrought up to frenzy,
She has, in her delirium, drank the poison.
Raby. Frenzy and poison!
Doug. Both a husband's gift!
But this I do her justice.

El. What blood again! We cannot kill him twice:
Soft, soft — no violence — he's dead already; —
I did it — Yes — I drown'd him with my tears;
But hide the cruel deed! I'll scratch him out
A shallow grave, and lay the green sod on it;
Ay — and I'll bind the wild briar o'er the turf,
And plant a willow there, a weeping willow. —
But look you tell not Douglas; he'll disturb him,
He'll pluck the willow up — and plant a thorn —
He will not let me sit upon his grave,
And sing all day, and weep, and pray all night.
Raby. Dost thou not know me?
El. Yes — I do remember
You had a harmless lamb
Raby. I had indeed!
El. From all the flock you chose her out a mate,
In sooth a fair one — you did bid her love it —
But while the shepherd slept, the wolf devour'd it.
Raby. My heart will break. This is too much, too much.
El. O 'twas a cordial draught — I drank it all
Raby. What means my child?
Doug. The poison — Oh the poison!
Thou dear wrong'd innocence —
El. Off — murderer, off!
Do not defile me with these crimson hands.
This is his winding sheet — I'll wrap him in it —
I wrought it for my love — there, now I've drest him.
How brave he looks! my father will forgive him,
He dearly lov'd him once — but that is over!
See where he comes — beware, my gallant Percy!
Ah! come not here, this is the cave of death,
And there's the dark, dark palace of revenge!
See, the pale king sits on his blood-stain'd throne!
He points to me — I come, I come, I come.
Doug. Thus, thus I follow thee.
Ed. Hold thy rash band.
Doug. It is too late. No remedy but this
Could medicine a disease so desperate.
Raby. Ah! she revives!
Doug. She lives! bear, bear me to her!
We shall be happy yet.
It will not be —
O for a last embrace — Alas! I faint —
She lives — Now death is terrible indeed —
Fair spirit, how I lov'd thee — O — Elwina!
El. Where have I been? The damps of death are on me.
Raby. Look up, my child! O do not leave me thus:
Pity the anguish of thy aged father.
Hast thou forgotten me?
El. You are my father;
O you are kindly come to close my eyes,
And take the kiss of death from my cold lips.
Raby. Do we meet thus?
El. We soon shall meet in peace.
I've but a faint remembrance of the past —
But something tells me — O these painful struggles!
Raise me a little — there —
What sight is that?
A sword, and bloody? Ah! and Douglas murder'd!
Ed. Convinc'd too late of your unequall'd virtues,
And wrung with deep compunction for your wrongs,
By his own hand the wretched Douglas fell.
El. This adds another, sharper pang to death.
O thou Eternal! take him to thy mercy!
Nor let this sin be on his head or mine!
Raby. I have undone you all — the crime is mine!
O thou poor injur'd saint, forgive thy father!
He kneels to his wrong'd child.
El. Now you are cruel.
Come near, my father, nearer — I would see you,
But mists and darkness cloud my failing sight.
O death! suspend thy rights for one short moment,
'Till I have ta'en a father's last embrace —
A father's blessing. Once — and now 'tis over.
Receive me to thy mercy — gracious Heaven.
Raby. She's gone! for ever gone! Cold, dead and cold.
Am I a father? Fathers love their children —
I murder mine! With impious pride I snatch'd
The bolt of vengeance from the hand of Heav'n.
My soul submissive hows. A righteous God
Has made my crime become my chastisement:
And pull'd those miseries on my guilty head
I would have drawn on others. O 'tis just!
'Tis righteous retribution! — I submit!