Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
Closing Scene of the First American Tragedy Regularly Produced
By William Dunlap (1766–1839)Scene draws, and discovers a table, lights, etc. A covered dish at each end. E
Enter M
I fear—I fear. His brow is darkly clouded;
Slow he speaks, and solemn. All is mystery.
How changed, alas! Alas! who is not changed!
He comes, and still the same black clouds hang on him.
With folded arms and eye devoid of pleasure?
There was a time—
L
Pr’ythee think that I am weary. Heaven knows
The speed with which I’ve posted from my duty
To meet—no matter. Is the supper ready?
M
L
Exceeding well. Is this the seat for me?
M
L
M
L
Anon. And where’s thy brother Linneric?
M
By thee is placed a dish thou lovest much;
I pr’ythee eat. Here do I make my choice.
Before I eat, to address to Heaven a prayer.
All-seeing Mercy! if what is now about
Be in thy sight acceptable, bless it:
And for this food, thou who can’st make the wholesomest
Meats pernicious to this mortal tenement,
Canst likewise, by thy power give nourishment
And sweet refreshment from the most pernicious;
We therefore may—
H
M
L
E
Are o’er. She makes her guilt appear so plain,
I now can firmly sit and see her fall,
A victim to her own pernicious arts.
Hath drank of wine too freely; but ashamed
At seeing me, retired. Now to our seats.
Will my lord help himself to that he likes?
L
M
L
M
L
M
L
I did intend to see thee take the bait
For me prepared; but gentle mercy hinders.
During the tumult were the dishes changed,
And that which thou wast on the point of tasting
Was crossed upon the cover; thou knowest wherefore.
M
It is not chance which thrice this day hath saved
The worthiest gentleman that England owns.
To avoid foul infamy I sought thy life;
Heaven hath preserved thee, and I am caught.
But think not, Leicester, I will live to bear
This load of guilt and shame. I have a friend
That will avenge thy wrongs, although thou would’st not.
His guilt is innocence compared to mine.
My brother Linneric will soon be here:
The knowledge of his coming drove me on
To desperate exertion. Oh! I faint.[Noise without.]
Quick—stop those ruffians—defend thee, Leicester.
Bear me from this scene.—Forgive—forgive—forgive.[Exit, borne off.]
L
Armed and prepared, ye vainly seek his life.
L
H
L
But for yon woman, thou hadst never fallen.
H
L
H
O could this blood, ungrateful, expiate
The injuries I’ve done thee—But I faint—[Falls.]
Did’st thou but know how, while I sought thy life,
I loved thee much, much better than myself—
Weak wretch! thou’rt caught; hell, hell, thou hast me now!
L
Hath left thee quite, resolve my pressing doubts.
Who art thou?
H
I knew Matilda ere she was thy wife—
I faint—Oh, Matilda! thou hast undone me!
L
On her visage. Lost Matilda! Speak, poor youth,
Yet speak, if thou hast breath. Art thou Lord Cecil’s brother?
H
He did slay Cecil, and I murdered him,
Thinking ’twas thee, my lord. So turns the wheel,
And Guilt doth punish guiltiness. I sink—
Down plunged to torments fierce and everlasting.
L
To Heaven’s unbounded mercy? Leicester forgives thee;
And shall Heaven’s gates be shut upon repentance?
Look up, and give some sign of blessed hope.
L
Untouched, but sorely is my spirit wounded,
Howard. O complicated tale of woe!
Poor guilty wretches! may your sufferings here,
Upon this mortal shoal, this bank, whereon
So many goodly souls are stranded, prove
Atonement ample for your heinous crimes!
How quick hath Justice followed on the heel
Of Perpetration! Here let the guilty
Tremble, and be well assured, one eye there is
Which never, never sleeps.