Chapter 125

_GORDON, BUTLER (at first behind the scenes)._

_Butler (not yet come into view of the stage)._ Here stand in silence till I give the signal.

_Gordon (starts up)._ 'Tis he, he has already brought the murderers.

_Butler._ The lights are out. All lies in profound sleep.

_Gordon._ What shall I do, shall I attempt to save him? Shall I call up the house? Alarm the guards? 5

_Butler (appears, but scarcely on the stage)._ A light gleams hither from the corridor. It leads directly to the Duke's bedchamber.

_Gordon._ But then I break my oath to the Emperor; If he escape and strengthen the enemy, Do I not hereby call down on my head 10 All the dread consequences?

_Butler (stepping forward)._ Hark! Who speaks there?

_Gordon._ 'Tis better, I resign it to the hands Of providence. For what am I, that I Should take upon myself so great a deed? I have not murdered him, if he be murdered: 15 But all his rescue were my act and deed; Mine--and whatever be the consequences, I must sustain them.

_Butler (advances)._ I should know that voice.

_Gordon._ Butler!

_Butler._ 'Tis Gordon. What do you want here? Was it so late then, when the Duke dismissed you? 20

_Gordon._ Your hand bound up and in a scarf?

_Butler._ 'Tis wounded. That Illo fought as he was frantic, till At last we threw him on the ground.

_Gordon._ Both dead?

_Butler._ Is he in bed?

_Gordon._ Ah, Butler!

_Butler._ Is he? speak.

_Gordon._ He shall not perish! Not through you! The Heaven 25 Refuses your arm. See--'tis wounded!--

_Butler._ There is no need of my arm.

_Gordon._ The most guilty Have perished, and enough is given to justice.

[_The_ Groom of the Chamber _advances from the gallery with his finger on his mouth, commanding silence._

_Gordon._ He sleeps! O murder not the holy sleep!

_Butler._ No! he shall die awake. [_Is going._

_Gordon._ His heart still cleaves 30 To earthly things: he's not prepared to step Into the presence of his God!

_Butler (going)._ God's merciful!

_Gordon (holds him)._ Grant him but this night's respite.

_Butler (hurrying off)._ The next moment May ruin all.

_Gordon (holds him still)._ One hour!----

_Butler._ Unhold me! What Can that short respite profit him?

_Gordon._ O--Time 35 Works miracles. In one hour many thousands Of grains of sand run out; and quick as they, Thought follows thought within the human soul. Only one hour! Your heart may change its purpose, His heart may change its purpose--some new tidings 40 May come; some fortunate event, decisive, May fall from Heaven and rescue him. O what May not one hour achieve!

_Butler._ You but remind me, How precious every minute is!

(_He stamps on the floor._)

LINENOTES:

[13] that _I_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[15] _I_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[16] _my_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[17] _Mine_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[19] _you_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[23] _Gordon (shuddering)._ Both dead? 1800, 1828, 1829.

[25] _not_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[26] _your_ 1800, 1828.

[27] _my_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[39] _Your_ 1800, 1828, 1829.

[40] _His_ 1800, 1828, 1829.