The Project Gutenberg eBook ofPercy: A TragedyThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Percy: A TragedyAuthor: Hannah MoreRelease date: November 21, 2009 [eBook #30524]Most recently updated: January 5, 2021Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online DistributedProofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PERCY: A TRAGEDY ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Percy: A TragedyAuthor: Hannah MoreRelease date: November 21, 2009 [eBook #30524]Most recently updated: January 5, 2021Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online DistributedProofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net
Title: Percy: A Tragedy
Author: Hannah More
Author: Hannah More
Release date: November 21, 2009 [eBook #30524]Most recently updated: January 5, 2021
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online DistributedProofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PERCY: A TRAGEDY ***
FRONTISPIECE
PERCY
This tragedy, in which Mrs. Hannah More is supposed to have been assisted by Garrick, was produced at Covent Garden Theatre, in 1778, with success; and revived, in 1818, at the same Theatre.
The feuds of the rival houses of Percy and of Douglas have furnished materials for this melancholy tale, in which Mrs. More1has embodied many judicious sentiments and excellent passages, producing a forcible lesson to parental tyranny. The victim of her husband's unreasonable jealousy,Elwina'svirtuous conflict is pathetic and interesting; whilePercy'ssufferings, and the vain regret of EarlRaby, excite and increase our sympathy.
Percy, Earl of NorthumberlandMr. Lewis.Earl DouglasMr. Wroughton.Earl Raby, Elwina's FatherMr. Aickin.Edric, Friend to DouglasMr. Whitefield.Harcourt, Friend to PercyMr. Robson.Sir Hubert, a KnightMr. Hull.ElwinaMrs. Barry.BirthaMrs. Jackson.Knights, Guards, Attendants, &c.scene,—Raby Castle, in Durham.
Enter Edric and Birtha.
Enter Edric and Birtha.
Bir.What may this mean? Earl Douglas has enjoin'd theeTo meet him here in private?Edr.Yes, my sister,And this injunction I have oft receiv'd;But when he comes, big with some painful secret,He starts, looks wild, then drops ambiguous hints,Frowns, hesitates, turns pale, and says 'twas nothing;Then feigns to smile, and by his anxious careTo prove himself at ease, betrays his pain.Bir.Since my short sojourn here, I've mark'd this earl,And though the ties of blood unite us closely,I shudder at his haughtiness of temper,Which not his gentle wife, the bright Elwina,Can charm to rest. Ill are their spirits pair'd;His is the seat of frenzy, her's of softness,His love is transport, her's is trembling duty;Rage in his soul is as the whirlwind fierce,While her's ne'er felt the power of that rude passion.Edr.Perhaps the mighty soul of Douglas mourns,Because inglorious love detains him here,While our bold knights, beneath the Christian standard,Press to the bulwarks of Jerusalem.Bir.Though every various charm adorns Elwina,And though the noble Douglas dotes to madness,Yet some dark mystery involves their fate:The canker grief devours Elwina's bloom,And on her brow meek resignation sits,Hopeless, yet uncomplaining.Edr.'Tis most strange.Bir.Once, not long since, she thought herself alone;'Twas then the pent-up anguish burst its bounds;With broken voice, clasp'd hands, and streaming eyes,She call'd upon her father, call'd him cruel,And said her duty claim'd far other recompence.Edr.Perhaps the absence of the good Lord Raby,Who, at her nuptials, quitted this fair castle,Resigning it to her, may thus afflict her.Hast thou e'er question'd her, good Birtha?Bir.Often,But hitherto in vain; and yet she shews meThe endearing kindness of a sister's love;But if I speak of Douglas——Edr.See! he comes.It would offend him should he find you here.Enter Douglas.Dou.How! Edric and his sister in close conference?Do they not seem alarm'd at my approach?And see, how suddenly they part! Now Edric,[exit Birtha.Was this well done? or was it like a friend,When I desir'd to meet thee here alone;With all the warmth of trusting confidence,To lay my bosom naked to thy view,And shew thee all its weakness, was it wellTo call thy sister here, to let her witnessThy friend's infirmity?—perhaps to tell her—Edr.My lord, I nothing know; I came to learn.Dou.Nay then thou dost suspect there's something wrong?Edr.If we were bred from infancy together,If I partook in all thy youthful griefs,And every joy thou knew'st was doubly mine,Then tell me all the secret of thy soul:Or have these few short months of separation,The only absence we have ever known,Have these so rent the bands of love asunder,That Douglas should distrust his Edric's truth?Dou.My friend, I know thee faithful as thou'rt brave,And I will trust thee—but not now, good Edric,'Tis past, 'tis gone, it is not worth the telling,'Twas wrong to cherish what disturb'd my peace;I'll think of it no more.Edr.Transporting news!I fear'd some hidden trouble vex'd your quiet.In secret I have watch'd——Dou.Ha! watch'd in secret?A spy, employ'd, perhaps, to note my actions.What have I said? Forgive me, thou art noble:Yet do not press me to disclose my grief,For when thou know'st it, I perhaps shall hate theeAs much, my Edric, as I hate myselfFor my suspicions—I am ill at ease.Edr.How will the fair Elwina grieve to hear it!Dou.Hold, Edric, hold—thou hast touch'd the fatal stringThat wakes me into madness. Hear me then,But let the deadly secret be secur'dWith bars of adamant in thy close breast.Think on the curse which waits on broken oaths;A knight is bound by more than vulgar ties,And perjury in thee were doubly damn'd.Well then, the king of England—Edr.Is expectedFrom distant Palestine.Dou.Forbid it, Heaven!For with him comes—Edr.Ah! who?Dou.Peace, peace,For see Elwina's here. Retire, my Edric;When next we meet, thou shalt know all. Farewell.[exit Edric.Now to conceal with care my bosom's anguish,And let her beauty chase away my sorrows!Yes, I would meet her with a face of smiles—But 'twill not be.Enter Elwina.Elw.Alas, 'tis ever thus!Thus ever clouded is his angry brow.[aside.Dou.I were too blest, Elwina, could I hopeYou met me here by choice, or that your bosomShar'd the warm transports mine must ever feelAt your approach.Elw.My lord, if I intrude,The cause which brings me claims at least forgiveness:I fear you are not well, and come, unbidden,Except by faithful duty, to inquire,If haply in my power, my little power,I have the means to minister reliefTo your affliction?Dou.What unwonted goodness!O I were blest above the lot of man,If tenderness, not duty, brought Elwina;Cold, ceremonious, and unfeeling duty,That wretched substitute for love: but know,The heart demands a heart; nor will be paidWith less than what it gives. E'en now, Elwina,The glistening tear stands trembling in your eyes,Which cast their mournful sweetness on the ground,As if they fear'd to raise their beams to mine,And read the language of reproachful love.Elw.My lord, I hop'd the thousand daily proofsOf my obedience——Dou.Death to all my hopes!Heart-rending word!—obedience? what's obedience?'Tis fear, 'tis hate, 'tis terror, 'tis aversion,'Tis the cold debt of ostentatious duty,Paid with insulting caution, to remind meHow much you tremble to offend a tyrantSo terrible as Douglas.—O, Elwina——While duty measures the regard it owesWith scrupulous precision and nice justice,Love never reasons, but profusely gives,Gives, like a thoughtless prodigal, its all,And trembles then, lest it has done too little.Elw.Indeed I'm most unhappy that my cares,And my solicitude to please, offend.Dou.True tenderness is less solicitous,Less prudent and more fond; the enamour'd heart,Conscious it loves, and blest in being lov'd,Reposes on the object it adores,And trusts the passion it inspires and feels.—Thou hast not learnt how terrible it isTo feed a hopeless flame.—But hear, Elwina,Thou most obdurate, hear me.—Elw.Say, my lord,For your own lips shall vindicate my fame,Since at the altar I became your wife,Can malice charge me with an act, a word,I ought to blush at? Have I not still liv'dAs open to the eye of observation,As fearless innocence should ever live?I call attesting angels to be witness,If in my open deed, or secret thought,My conduct, or my heart, they've aught discern'dWhich did not emulate their purity.Dou.This vindication ere you were accus'd,This warm defence, repelling all attacksEre they are made, and construing casual wordsTo formal accusations, trust me, madam,Shews rather an alarm'd and vigilant spirit,For ever on the watch to guard its secret,Than the sweet calm of fearless innocence.Who talk'd of guilt? Who testified suspicion?Elw.Learn, sir, that virtue, while 'tis free from blame,Is modest, lowly, meek, and unassuming;Not apt, like fearful vice, to shield its weaknessBeneath the studied pomp of boastful phraseWhich swells to hide the poverty it shelters;But, when this virtue feels itself suspected,Insulted, set at nought, its whiteness stain'd,It then grows proud, forgets its humble worth,And rates itself above its real value.Dou.I did not mean to chide! but think, O think,What pangs must rend this fearful doting heart,To see you sink impatient of the grave,To feel, distracting thought! to feel you hate me!Elw.What if the slender thread by which I holdThis poor precarious being soon must break,Is it Elwina's crime, or heaven's decree?Yet I shall meet, I trust, the king of terrors,Submissive and resign'd, without one pang,One fond regret, at leaving this gay world.Dou.Yes, madam, there is one, one man ador'd,For whom your sighs will heave, your tears will flow,For whom this hated world will still be dear,For whom you still would live——Elw.Hold, hold, my lord,What may this mean?Dou.Ah! I have gone too far.What have I said?—Your father, sure, your father,The good Lord Raby, may at least expectOne tender sigh.Elw.Alas, my lord! I thoughtThe precious incense of a daughter's sighsMight rise to heaven, and not offend its ruler.Dou.'Tis true; yet Raby is no more belov'dSince he bestow'd his daughter's hand on Douglas:That was a crime the dutiful ElwinaCan never pardon; and believe me, madam,My love's so nice, so delicate my honour,I am asham'd to owe my happinessTo ties which make you wretched.[exit Douglas.Elw.Ah! how's this?Though I have ever found him fierce and rash,Full of obscure surmises and dark hints,Till now he never ventur'd to accuse me.Yet there is one, one man belov'd, ador'd,For whom your tears will flow—these were his words—And then the wretched subterfuge of, Raby—How poor th' evasion!—But my Birtha comes.Enter Birtha.Bir.Crossing the portico I met Lord Douglas,Disorder'd were his looks, his eyes shot fire;He call'd upon your name with such distraction,I fear'd some sudden evil had befallen you.Elw.Not sudden: no; long has the storm been gathering,Which threatens speedily to burst in ruinOn this devoted head.Bir.I ne'er beheldYour gentle soul so ruffled, yet I've mark'd you,While others thought you happiest of the happy,Blest with whate'er the world calls great, or good,With all that nature, all that fortune gives,I've mark'd you bending with a weight of sorrow.Elw.O I will tell thee all! thou couldst not findAn hour, a moment in Elwina's life,When her full heart so long'd to ease its burthen,And pour its sorrows in thy friendly bosom:Hear then, with pity hear, my tale of woe,And, O forgive, kind nature, filial piety,If my presumptuous lips arraign a father!Yes, Birtha, that belov'd, that cruel father,Has doom'd me to a life of hopeless anguish,To die of grief ere half my days are number'd;Doom'd me to give my trembling hand to Douglas,'Twas all I had to give—my heart was—Percy's.Bir.What do I hear?Elw.My misery, not my crime.Long since the battle 'twixt the rival housesOf Douglas and of Percy, for whose hateThis mighty globe's too small a theatre,One summer's morn my father chas'd the deerOn Cheviot Hills, Northumbria's fair domain.Bir.On that fam'd spot where first the feuds commenc'dBetween the earls?Elw.The same. During the chace,Some of my father's knights receiv'd an insultFrom the Lord Percy's herdsmen, churlish foresters,Unworthy of the gentle blood they serv'd.My father, proud and jealous of his honour,(Thou know'st the fiery temper of our barons,)Swore that Northumberland had been concern'dIn this rude outrage, nor would hear of peace,Or reconcilement, which the Percy offer'd;But bade me hate, renounce, and banish him.O! 'twas a task too hard for all my duty:I strove, and wept; I strove—but still I lov'd.Bir.Indeed 'twas most unjust; but say what follow'd?Elw.Why should I dwell on the disastrous tale?Forbid to see me, Percy soon embark'dWith our great king against the Saracen.Soon as the jarring kingdoms were at peace,Earl Douglas, whom till then I ne'er had seen,Came to this castle; 'twas my hapless fateTo please him.—Birtha! thou can'st tell what follow'd:But who shall tell the agonies I felt?My barbarous father forc'd me to dissolveThe tender vows himself had bid me form——He dragg'd me trembling, dying, to the altar,I sigh'd, I struggled, fainted, and complied.Bir.Did Douglas know, a marriage had been oncePropos'd 'twixt you and Percy?Elw.If he did,He thought, like you, it was a match of policy,Nor knew our love surpass'd our fathers' prudence.Bir.Should he now find he was the instrumentOf the Lord Raby's vengeance?Elw.'Twere most dreadful!My father lock'd this motive in his breast,And feign'd to have forgot the chace of Cheviot.Some moons have now completed their slow courseSince my sad marriage.—Percy still is absent.Bir.Nor will return before his sov'reign comes.Elw.Talk not of his return! this coward heartCan know no thought of peace but in his absence.How, Douglas here again? some fresh alarm!Enter Douglas, agitated, with letters in his hand.Dou.Madam, your pardon—Elw.What disturbs my lord?Dou.Nothing.—Disturb! I ne'er was more at ease.These letters from your father give us noticeHe will be here to-night:—He further adds,The king's each hour expected.Elw.How? the king?Said you, the king?Dou.And 'tis Lord Raby's pleasureThat you among the foremost bid him welcome.You must attend the court.Elw.Must I, my lord?Dou.Now to observe how she receives the news![aside.Elw.I must not,—cannot.—By the tender loveYou have so oft profess'd for poor Elwina,Indulge this one request—O let me stay!Dou.Enchanting sounds! she does not wish to go—[aside.Elw.The bustling world, the pomp which waits on greatness,Ill suits my humble, unambitious soul;—Then leave me here, to tread the safer pathOf private life; here, where my peaceful courseShall be as silent as the shades around me;Nor shall one vagrant wish be e'er allow'dTo stray beyond the bounds of Raby Castle.Dou.O music to my ears! [aside.] Can you resolveTo hide those wond'rous beauties in the shade,Which rival kings would cheaply buy with empire?Can you renounce the pleasures of a court,Whose roofs resound with minstrelsy and mirth?Elw.My lord, retirement is a wife's best duty,And virtue's safest station is retreat.Dou.My soul's in transports! [aside] But can you foregoWhat wins the soul of woman—admiration?A world, where charms inferior far to yoursOnly presume to shine when you are absent!Will you not long to meet the public gaze?Long to eclipse the fair, and charm the brave?Elw.These are delights in which the mind partakes not.Dou.I'll try her farther.[aside.[takes her hand, and looks stedfastly at her as he speaks.But reflect once more:When you shall hear that England's gallant peers,Fresh from the fields of war, and gay with glory,All vain with conquest, and elate with fame,When you shall hear these princely youths contend,In many a tournament, for beauty's prize;When you shall hear of revelry and masking,Of mimic combats and of festive halls,Of lances shiver'd in the cause of love,Will you not then repent, then wish your fate,Your happier fate, had till that hour reserv'd youFor some plumed conqueror?Elw.My fate, my lord,Is now bound up with yours.Dou.Here let me kneel—Yes, I will kneel, and gaze, and weep, and wonder;Thou paragon of goodness!—pardon, pardon,[kisses her hand.I am convinc'd—I can no longer doubt,Nor talk, nor hear, nor reason, nor reflect.—I must retire, and give a loose to joy.[exit Douglas.Bir.The king returns.Elw.And with him Percy comes!Bir.You needs must go.Elw.Shall I solicit ruin,And pull destruction on me ere its time?I, who have held it criminal to name him?I will not go—I disobey thee, Douglas,But disobey thee to preserve thy honour.[exeunt.
Enter Douglas, speaking.
Enter Douglas, speaking.
See that the traitor instantly be seiz'd,And strictly watch'd: let none have access to him.—O jealousy, thou aggregate of woes!Were there no hell, thy torments would create one.But yet she may be guiltless—may? she must.How beautiful she look'd! pernicious beauty!Yet innocent as bright seem'd the sweet blushThat mantled on her cheek. But not for me,But not for me, those breathing roses blow!And then she wept—What! can I bear her tears?Well—let her weep—her tears are for another;O did they fall for me, to dry their streamsI'd drain the choicest blood that feeds this heart,Nor think the drops I shed were half so precious.[he stands in a musing posture.Enter Lord Raby.Raby.Sure I mistake—am I in Raby Castle?Impossible; that was the seat of smiles;And Cheerfulness and Joy were household gods.I us'd to scatter pleasures when I came,And every servant shar'd his lord's delight;But now Suspicion and Distrust dwell here,And Discontent maintains a sullen sway.Where is the smile unfeign'd, the jovial welcome,Which cheer'd the sad, beguil'd the pilgrim's pain,And made Dependency forget its bonds?Where is the antient, hospitable hall,Whose vaulted roof once rung with harmless mirth,Where every passing stranger was a guest,And every guest a friend? I fear me much,If once our nobles scorn their rural seats,Their rural greatness, and their vassals' love,Freedom and English grandeur are no more.Dou.[advancing.] My lord, you are welcome.Raby.Sir, I trust I am;But yet methinks I shall not feel I'm welcomeTill my Elwina bless me with her smiles:She was not wont with ling'ring step to meet me,Or greet my coming with a cold embrace;Now, I extend my longing arms in vain;My child, my darling, does not come to fill them.O they were happy days, when she would flyTo meet me from the camp, or from the chace,And with her fondness overpay my toils!How eager would her tender hands unbraceThe ponderous armour from my war-worn limbs,And pluck the helmet which oppos'd her kiss!Dou.O sweet delights, that never must be mine!Raby.What do I hear?Dou.Nothing: inquire no farther.Raby.My lord, if you respect an old man's peace,If e'er you doted on my much-lov'd child,As 'tis most sure you made me think you did,Then, by the pangs which you may one day feel,When you, like me, shall be a fond, fond father,And tremble for the treasure of your age,Tell me what this alarming silence means?You sigh, you do not speak, nay more, you hear not;Your lab'ring soul turns inward on itself,As there were nothing but your own sad thoughtsDeserv'd regard. Does my child live?Dou.She does.Raby.To bless her father!Dou.And to curse her husband!Raby.Ah! have a care, my lord, I'm not so old—Dou.Nor I so base, that I should tamely bear it;Nor am I so inur'd to infamy,That I can say, without a burning blush,She lives to be my curse!Raby.How's this?Dou.I thoughtThe lily opening to the heaven's soft dews,Was not so fragrant, and was not so chaste.Raby.Has she prov'd otherwise? I'll not believe it,Who has traduc'd my sweet, my innocent child?Yet she's too good to 'scape calumnious tongues.I know that Slander loves a lofty mark:It saw her soar a flight above her fellows,And hurl'd its arrow to her glorious height,To reach her heart, and bring her to the ground.Dou.Had the rash tongue of Slander so presum'd,My vengeance had not been of that slow sortTo need a prompter; nor should any arm,No, not a father's, dare dispute with mine,The privilege to die in her defence.None dares accuse Elwina, but—Raby.But who?Dou.But Douglas.Raby.[puts his hand to his sword.]You?—O spare my age's weakness!You do not know what 'tis to be a father;You do not know, or you would pity me,The thousand tender throbs, the nameless feelings,The dread to ask, and yet the wish to know,When we adore and fear; but wherefore fear?Does not the blood of Raby fill her veins?Dou.Percy;—know'st thou that name?Raby.How? What of Percy?Dou.He loves Elwina, and, my curses on him!He is belov'd again.Raby.I'm on the rack!Dou.Not the two Theban brothers bore each otherSuch deep, such deadly hate as I and Percy.Raby.But tell me of my child.Dou.[not minding him.] As I and Percy!When at the marriage rites, O rites accurs'd!I seiz'd her trembling hand, she started back,Cold horror thrill'd her veins, her tears flow'd fast.Fool that I was, I thought 'twas maiden fear;Dull, doting ignorance! beneath those terrors,Hatred for me and love for Percy lurk'd.Raby.What proof of guilt is this?Dou.E'er since our marriage,Our days have still been cold and joyless all;Painful restraint, and hatred ill disguis'd,Her sole return for all my waste of fondness.This very morn I told her 'twas your willShe should repair to court; with all those graces,Which first subdued my soul, and still enslave it,She begg'd to stay behind in Raby Castle,For courts and cities had no charms for her.Curse my blind love! I was again ensnar'd,And doted on the sweetness which deceiv'd me.Just at the hour she thought I should be absent,(For chance could ne'er have tim'd their guilt so well,)Arriv'd young Harcourt, one of Percy's knights,Strictly enjoin'd to speak to none but her;I seiz'd the miscreant: hitherto he's silent,But tortures soon shall force him to confess!Raby.Percy is absent—They have never met.Dou.At what a feeble hold you grasp for succour!Will it content me that her person's pure?No, if her alien heart dotes on another,She is unchaste, were not that other Percy.Let vulgar spirits basely wait for proof,She loves another—'tis enough for Douglas.Raby.Be patient.Dou.Be a tame convenient husband,And meanly wait for circumstantial guilt?No—I am nice as the first Cæsar was,And start at bare suspicion.[going.Raby.[holding him.] Douglas, hear me;Thou hast nam'd a Roman husband; if she's false,I mean to prove myself a Roman father.[exit Douglas.This marriage was my work, and thus I'm punish'd!Enter Elwina.Elw.Where is my father? let me fly to meet him,O let me clasp his venerable knees,And die of joy in his belov'd embrace!Raby.[avoiding her embrace.] Elwina!Elw.And is that all? so cold?Raby.[sternly.] Elwina!Elw.Then I'm undone indeed! How stern his looks!I will not be repuls'd, I am your child,The child of that dear mother you ador'd;You shall not throw me off, I will grow here,And, like the patriarch, wrestle for a blessing.Raby.[holding her from him.]Before I take thee in these aged arms,Press thee with transport to this beating heart,And give a loose to all a parent's fondness,Answer, and see thou answer me as trulyAs if the dread inquiry came from heaven,—Does no interior sense of guilt confound thee?Canst thou lay all thy naked soul before me?Can thy unconscious eye encounter mine?Canst thou endure the probe, and never shrink?Can thy firm hand meet mine, and never tremble?Art thou prepar'd to meet the rigid Judge?Or to embrace the fond, the melting, father?Elw.Mysterious Heaven! to what am I reserv'd!Raby.Should some rash man, regardless of thy fame,And in defiance of thy marriage vows,Presume to plead a guilty passion for thee,What would'st thou do?Elw.What honour bids me do.Raby.Come to my arms![they embrace.Elw.My father!Raby.Yes, Elwina,Thou art my child—thy mother's perfect image.Elw.Forgive these tears of mingled joy and doubt;For why that question? who should seek to pleaseThe desolate Elwina?Raby.But if anyShould so presume, canst thou resolve to hate him,Whate'er his name, whate'er his pride of blood,Whate'er his former arrogant pretensions?Elw.Ha!Raby.Dost thou falter? Have a care, Elwina.Elw.Sir, do not fear me: am I not your daughter?Raby.Thou hast a higher claim upon thy honour;Thou art Earl Douglas' wife.Elw.[weeps.] I am, indeed!Raby.Unhappy Douglas!Elw.Has he then complain'd?Has he presum'd to sully my white fame?Raby.He knows that Percy——Elw.Was my destin'd husband;By your own promise, by a father's promise,And by a tie more strong, more sacred still,Mine, by the fast firm bond of mutual love.Raby.Now, by my fears, thy husband told me truth.Elw.If he has told thee, that thy only childWas forc'd a helpless victim to the altar,Torn from his arms who had her virgin heart,And forc'd to make false vows to one she hated,Then I confess that he has told the truth.Raby.Her words are barbed arrows in my heart.But 'tis too late. [aside.] Thou hast appointed HarcourtTo see thee here by stealth in Douglas' absence?Elw.No, by my life, nor knew I till this momentThat Harcourt was return'd. Was it for thisI taught my heart to struggle with its feelings?Was it for this I bore my wrongs in silence?When the fond ties of early love were broken,Did my weak soul break out in fond complaints?Did I reproach thee? Did I call thee cruel?No—I endur'd it all; and wearied HeavenTo bless the father who destroy'd my peace.Enter Messenger.Mes.My lord, a knight, Sir Hubert as I think,But newly landed from the holy wars,Entreats admittance.Raby.Let the warrior enter.[exit Messenger.All private interests sink at his approach;All selfish cares be for a moment banish'd;I've now no child, no kindred but my country.Elw.Weak heart, be still, for what hast thou to fear?Enter Sir Hubert.Raby.Welcome, thou gallant knight! Sir Hubert, welcome!Welcome to Raby Castle!—In one word,Is the king safe? Is Palestine subdu'd?Sir H.The king is safe, and Palestine subdu'd.Raby.Blest be the God of armies! Now, Sir Hubert,By all the saints, thou'rt a right noble knight!O why was I too old for this crusade!I think it would have made me young again,Could I, like thee, have seen the hated crescentYield to the Christian cross.—How now, Elwina!What! cold at news which might awake the dead?If there's a drop in thy degenerate veinsThat glows not now, thou art not Raby's daughter.It is religion's cause, the cause of Heaven!Elw.When policy assumes religion's name,And wears the sanctimonious garb of faithOnly to colour fraud, and license murder,War then is tenfold guilt.Raby.Blaspheming girl!Elw.'Tis not the crosier, nor the pontiff's robe,The saintly look, nor elevated eye,Nor Palestine destroy'd, nor Jordan's banksDeluged with blood of slaughter'd infidels;No, nor the extinction of the eastern world,Nor all the mad, pernicious, bigot rageOf your crusades, can bribe that Power who seesThe motive with the act. O blind, to thinkThat cruel war can please the Prince of Peace!He, who erects his altar in the heart,Abhors the sacrifice of human blood,And all the false devotion of that zealWhich massacres the world he died to save.Raby.O impious rage! If thou would'st shun my curse,No more, I charge thee.—Tell me, good Sir Hubert,Say, have our arms achiev'd this glorious deed,(I fear to ask,) without much Christian bloodshed?Elw.Now, Heaven support me![aside.Sir H.My good lord of Raby,Imperfect is the sum of human glory!Would I could tell thee that the field was won,Without the death of such illustrious knightsAs make the high-flush'd cheek of victory pale.Elw.Why should I tremble thus?[aside.Raby.Who have we lost?Sir H.The noble Clifford, Walsingham, and Grey,Sir Harry Hastings, and the valiant Pembroke,All men of choicest note.Raby.O that my nameHad been enroll'd in such a list of heroes!If I was too infirm to serve my country,I might have prov'd my love by dying for her.Elw.Were there no more?Sir H.But few of noble blood.But the brave youth who gain'd the palm of glory,The flower of knighthood, and the plume of war,Who bore his banner foremost in the field,Yet conquer'd more by mercy than the sword,Was Percy.Elw.Then he lives![aside.Raby.Did he? Did Percy?O gallant boy, then I'm thy foe no more;Who conquers for my country is my friend!His fame shall add new glories to a house,Where never maid was false, nor knight disloyal.Sir H.You do embalm him, lady, with your tears:They grace the grave of glory where he lies—He died the death of honour.Elw.Said'st thou—died?Sir H.Beneath the towers of Solyma he fell.Elw.Oh!Sir H.Look to the lady.[Elwina faints in her father's arms.Raby.Gentle knight, retire——'Tis an infirmity of nature in her,She ever mourns at any tale of blood;She will be well anon—mean time, Sir Hubert,You'll grace our castle with your friendly sojourn.Sir H.I must return with speed—health to the lady.[exit.Raby.Look up, Elwina. Should her husband come!Yet she revives not.Enter Douglas.Dou.Ha——Elwina fainting!My lord, I fear you have too harshly chid her.Her gentle nature could not brook your sternness.She wakes, she stirs, she feels returning life.My love![he takes her hand.Elw.O Percy!Dou.[starts.] Do my senses fail me?Elw.My Percy, 'tis Elwina calls.Dou.Hell, hell!Raby.Retire awhile, my daughter.Elw.Douglas here,My father and my husband?—O for pity—[exit, casting a look of anguish on both.Dou.Now, now confess she well deserves my vengeance!Before my face to call upon my foe!Raby.Upon a foe who has no power to hurt thee—Earl Percy's slain.Dou.I live again.—But hold—Did she not weep? she did, and wept for Percy.If she laments him, he's my rival still,And not the grave can bury my resentment.Raby.The truly brave are still the truly gen'rous;Now, Douglas, is the time to prove thee both.If it be true that she did once love Percy,Thou hast no more to fear, since he is dead.Release young Harcourt, let him see Elwina,'Twill serve a double purpose, 'twill at onceProve Percy's death, and thy unchang'd affection.Be gentle to my child, and win her heartBy confidence and unreproaching love.Dou.By Heaven, thou counsel'st well! it shall be done.Go set him free, and let him have admittanceTo my Elwina's presence.Raby.Farewell, Douglas.Shew thou believ'st her faithful, and she'll prove so.[exit.Dou.Northumberland is dead—that thought is peace!Her heart may yet be mine, transporting hope!Percy was gentle, even a foe avows it,And I'll be milder than a summer's breeze.Yes, thou most lovely, most ador'd of women,I'll copy every virtue, every grace,Of my bless'd rival, happier even in deathTo be thus loved, than living to be scorn'd.[exit.