Chapter 8
_Enter Jane Shore, her hair hanging loose on her shoulders, and bare-footed._
_Jane S._ Yet, yet, endure, nor murmur, O, my soul! For are not thy transgressions great and numberless? Do they not cover thee like rising floods, And press thee like a weight of waters down? Wait then with patience, till the circling hours Shall bring the time of thy appointed rest, And lay thee down in death. And, hark! methinks the roar, that late pursu'd me, Sinks like the murmurs of a falling wind, And softens into silence. Does revenge And malice then grow weary, and forsake me? My guard, too, that observ'd me still so close, Tire in the task of their inhuman office, And loiter far behind. Alas! I faint, My spirits fail at once--this is the door Of my Alicia----Blessed opportunity! I'll steal a little succour from her goodness, Now while no eye observes me. [_she knocks at the door._
_Enter Servant._
Is your lady, My gentle friend, at home? Oh! bring me to her.
_Serv._ Hold, mistress, whither would you? [_pulling her back._
_Jane S._ Do you not know me?
_Serv._ I know you well, and know my orders too: You must not enter here----
_Jane S._ Tell my Alicia, 'Tis I would see her.
_Serv._ She is ill at ease, And will admit no visitor.
_Jane S._ But tell her 'Tis I, her friend, the partner of her heart, Wait at the door and beg,----
_Serv._ 'Tis all in vain,-- Go hence, and howl to those that will regard you. [_shuts the door, and exit._
_Jane S._ It was not always thus; the time has been, When this unfriendly door, that bars my passage, Flew wide, and almost leap'd from off its hinges, To give me entrance here; when this good house Has pour'd forth all its dwellers to receive me; When my approaches made a little holiday, And every face was dress'd in smiles to meet me: But now 'tis otherwise; and those who bless'd me Now curse me to my face. Why should I wander, Stray further on, for I can die ev'n here? [_she sits down at the door._
_Enter Alicia in disorder, two Servants following._
_Alic._ What wretch art thou, whose misery and baseness Hangs on my door; whose hateful whine of woe Breaks in upon my sorrows, and distracts My jarring senses with thy beggar's cry?
_Jane S._ A very beggar, and a wretch, indeed; One driv'n by strong calamity to seek For succours here; one perishing for want, Whose hunger has not tasted food these three days; And humbly asks, for charity's dear sake, A draught of water and a little bread.
_Alic._ And dost thou come to me, to me, for bread; I know thee not--Go--hunt for it abroad, Where wanton hands upon the earth have scatter'd it, Or cast it on the waters--Mark the eagle, And hungry vulture, where they wind the prey; Watch where the ravens of the valley feed, And seek thy food with them--I know thee not.
_Jane S._ And yet there was a time, when my Alicia Has thought unhappy Shore her dearest blessing, And mourn'd the live-long day she pass'd without me; Inclining fondly to me, she has sworn She lov'd me more than all the world besides.
_Alic._ Ha! say'st thou? Let me look upon thee well-- 'Tis true--I know thee now--A mischief on thee! Thou art that fatal fair, that cursed she, That set my brain a madding. Thou hast robb'd me; Thou hast undone me--Murder! O, my Hastings! See his pale bloody head shoots glaring by me! Avaunt; and come not near me--
_Jane S._ To thy hand I trusted all; gave my whole store to thee, Nor do I ask it back; allow me but The smallest pittance, give me but to eat, Lest I fall down and perish here before thee.
_Alic._ Nay! tell not me! Where is thy king, thy Edward, And all thy cringing train of courtiers, That bent the knee before thee?
_Jane S._ Oh! for mercy!
_Alic._ Mercy! I know it not--for I am miserable. I'll give thee misery, for here she dwells, This is her house, where the sun never dawns; The bird of night sits screaming o'er the roof, Grim spectres sweep along the horrid gloom, And nought is heard but wailings and lamentings. Hark! something cracks above! it shakes! it totters! And see the nodding ruin falls to crush me! 'Tis fall'n, 'tis here! I felt it on my brain!-- Let her take my counsel: Why shouldst thou be a wretch? Stab, tear thy heart, And rid thyself of this detested being: I wo' not linger long behind thee here. A waving flood of bluish fire swells o'er me; And now 'tis out, and I am drown'd in blood. Ha! what art thou? thou horrid headless trunk? It is my Hastings! see he wafts me on! Away! I go! I fly! I follow thee. [_runs off._
_Jane S._ Alas! she raves; her brain, I fear, is turn'd; In mercy look upon her, gracious heav'n, Nor visit her for any wrong to me. Sure I am near upon my journey's end; My head runs round, my eyes begin to fail, And dancing shadows swim before my sight. I can no more, [_lies down_] receive me, thou cold earth, Thou common parent, take me to thy bosom, And let me rest with thee.
_Enter Belmour._
_Bel._ Upon the ground! Thy miseries can never lay thee lower. Look up, thou poor afflicted one! thou mourner, Whom none has comforted! Where are thy friends, The dear companions of thy joyful days, Whose hearts thy warm prosperity made glad, Whose arms were taught to grow like ivy round thee, And bind thee to their bosoms? Thus, with thee, Thus let us live, and let us die, they said. Now where are they?
_Jane S._ Ah, Belmour! where, indeed? They stand aloof, And view my desolation from afar! And yet thy goodness turns aside to pity me. Alas! there may be danger; get thee gone. Let me not pull a ruin on thy head. Leave me to die alone, for I am fall'n Never to rise, and all relief is vain.
_Bel._ Yet raise thy drooping head; for I am come To chase away despair. Behold! where yonder That honest man, that faithful, brave, Dumont, Is hasting to thy aid--
_Jane S._ Dumont! Ha! where? [_raising herself, and looking about._
Then heav'n has heard my pray'r; his very name Renews the springs of life, and cheers my soul. Has he then 'scap'd the snare?
_Bel._ He has; but see---- He comes, unlike to that Dumont you knew, For now he wears your better angel's form, And comes to visit you with peace and pardon.
_Enter Shore._
_Jane S._ Speak, tell me! Which is he? And oh! what would This dreadful vision! See it comes upon me-- It is my husband----Ah! [_she swoons._
_Shore._ She faints! support her!
_Bel._ Her weakness could not bear the strong surprise. But see, she stirs! And the returning blood Faintly begins to blush again, and kindle Upon her ashy cheek--
_Shore._ So--gently raise her-- [_raising her up._
_Jane S._ Ha! what art thou? Belmour!
_Bel._ How fare you, lady?
_Jane S._ My heart is thrill'd with horror--
_Bel._ Be of courage-- Your husband lives! 'tis he, my worthiest friend--
_Jane S._ Still art thou there!--Still dost thou hover round me! Oh, save me, Belmour, from his angry shade!
_Bel._ 'Tis he himself! he lives! look up--
_Jane S._ I dare not! Oh! that my eyes could shut him out for ever--
_Shore._ Am I so hateful then, so deadly to thee, To blast thy eyes with horror? Since I'm grown A burden to the world, myself, and thee, Would I had ne'er surviv'd to see thee more.
_Jane S._ Oh! thou most injur'd--dost thou live, indeed? Fall then, ye mountains, on my guilty head; Hide me, ye rocks, within your secret caverns; Cast thy black veil upon my shame, O night! And shield me with thy sable wing for ever.
_Shore._ Why dost thou turn away?----Why tremble thus? Why thus indulge thy fears? and, in despair, Abandon thy distracted soul to horror? Cast every black and guilty thought behind thee, And let 'em never vex thy quiet more. My arms, my heart, are open to receive thee, To bring thee back to thy forsaken home, With tender joy, with fond forgiving love. Let us haste, Now while occasion seems to smile upon us, Forsake this place of shame, and find a shelter.
_Jane S._ What shall I say to you? But I obey--
_Shore._ Lean on my arm----
_Jane S._ Alas! I'm wondrous faint: But that's not strange, I have not eat these three days.
_Shore._ Oh! merciless!
_Jane S._ Oh! I am sick at heart!----
_Shore._ Thou murd'rous sorrow! Wo't thou still drink her blood, pursue her still? Must she then die? O my poor penitent! Speak peace to thy sad heart; she hears me not: Grief masters ev'ry sense--
_Enter Catesby, with a Guard._
_Cates._ Seize on 'em both, as traitors to the state--
_Bel._ What means this violence? [_Guards lay hold on Shore and Belmour._
_Cates._ Have we not found you, In scorn of the protector's strict command, Assisting this base woman, and abetting Her infamy?
_Shore._ Infamy on thy head! Thou tool of power, thou pander to authority! I tell thee, knave, thou know'st of none so virtuous, And she that bore thee was an Ethiop to her.
_Cates._ You'll answer this at full--away with 'em.
_Shore._ Is charity grown treason to your court? What honest man would live beneath such rulers? I am content that we should die together----
_Cates._ Convey the men to prison; but, for her, Leave her to hunt her fortune as she may.
_Jane S._ I will not part with him----for me!--for me! Oh! must he die for me? [_following him as he is carried off; she falls._
_Shore._ Inhuman villains! [_breaks from the Guards._ Stand off! the agonies of death are on her---- She pulls, she gripes me hard with her cold hand.
_Jane S._ Was this blow wanting to complete my ruin? Oh! let me go, ye ministers of terror. He shall offend no more, for I will die, And yield obedience to your cruel master. Tarry a little, but a little longer, And take my last breath with you.
_Shore._ Oh, my love! Why dost thou fix thy dying eyes upon me, With such an earnest, such a piteous, look, As if thy heart were full of some sad meaning Thou couldst not speak?----
_Jane S._ Forgive me!----but forgive me!
_Shore._ Be witness for me, ye celestial hosts, Such mercy and such pardon as my soul Accords to thee, and begs of heav'n to show thee; May such befall me at my latest hour, And make my portion blest or curst for ever.
_Jane S._ Then all is well, and I shall sleep in peace-- 'Tis very dark, and I have lost you now---- Was there not something I would have bequeath'd you? But I have nothing left me to bestow, Nothing but one sad sigh. Oh! mercy, heav'n! [_dies._
_Bel._ There fled the soul, And left her load of misery behind.
_Shore._ Oh, heavy hour! Fare thee well---- [_kissing her._ Now execute your tyrant's will, and lead me To bonds or death, 'tis equally indifferent.
_Bel._ Let those, who view this sad example, know What fate attends the broken marriage vow; And teach their children, in succeeding times, No common vengeance waits upon these crimes, When such severe repentance could not save From want, from shame, and an untimely grave. [_the curtain descends slowly to music._
THE END.
_Maurice, Fenchurch Street._
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