SCENE IV.--_The same.

_Enter_ NORTHLAKE _and_ CATHARINE.

NORTHLAKE.

Fair lady, I have led thee to this spot, Removed from all the merry throng of maskers; For love grows best in solitude, and thrives But poorly when too many eyes look on; So saying, I unmask [_unmasking_], and ask that thou Wilt move that vestment from thy cheek, to whose Illumined page thine eyes are bright indexes. Pray let me draw the envious curtain back; For though I’ve scored some years, yet ne’er ’twas said That I ungallant proved.

CATHARINE.

Stay for a moment,--I am strangely faint.

NORTHLAKE.

The ball-room’s heat I fear has wearied thee.

[_Tenderly supporting her._

CATHARINE [_recovering_].

Nay, heed it not; I long have been aweary.

NORTHLAKE.

Fair lady, tenderest fruit and hidden clings Within its husk until full season. Now Thou mayst remove thy mask, for in my heart There’s sympathy that makes occasion ripe.

CATHARINE.

I see thou art a gallant gentleman; I’d converse hold with thee, but pray that thou Wouldst leave me to my mask.

NORTHLAKE.

Be it as thou dost wish; But at the close of our sweet interview I beg thou wilt disclose to me the face Of her whose gentle hand I now do press With all the ardor of my youthful days.

CATHARINE.

Oh, thou shalt have thy asking, never fear; But first thou’lt answer questioning,--’tis but A foolish, idle question, yet thou mayst True answer make. But to be brief: Didst ever Love before? Good gentleman, I pray thee Answer me truly.

NORTHLAKE.

Briefly, but once.

CATHARINE.

Speak not beyond. I thank thee. Sweeter sound Was never borne upon the air to woman. But of this once? Answer me that.

NORTHLAKE.

Truly but once, and once most truly, I Did love her. [_Pausing._] Well, I’ll pause no further; yet Her voice and gesture much resembled thine. We parted, years ago, in sad estrangement; And though within that sombre lapse of time We’ve often met, yet never have we spoken. For we indeed are to each other--dead!

CATHARINE.

Dead to each other! ’tis a woful word To those who’ve loved. Thou fickle man! thou dost Deceive thyself,--for true love never dies. Thy fate doth mirror mine.

NORTHLAKE [_taking her hand_].

I beg thee tell it me.

CATHARINE.

Thou hold’st my hand close as my husband did Upon our wedding morn, when he did make Such noble vows of constancy as troops Of angels swift delight to register. And so we lived for many happy years; They now do seem a vanished paradise; And, looking back, beyond my later years, It seems to me as fair as tender Eden Did unto our first mother, Eve. And oft I’ve wept most burning tears in memory Of the adored one who did hold me there.

NORTHLAKE.

Why, thou dost clasp my hand with feverish zeal; Let’s walk upon the cliff.

CATHARINE.

Nay, stay, and listen.

NORTHLAKE.

I’ll do as thou desirest.

CATHARINE.

Thou art a gallant gentleman. I’ll swift Unveil to thee a heart that’s worthier Than is the poor masked face thou pray’st to see. Oh, how can I portray to thee my joy When I was wife and mother! Think of it,-- For I am sure thou art a good, true man, And gallant gentleman.--In my full flush Of joy I was estranged from my dear husband, Whom I did love so well I would have pledged My soul upon his honor. Then I was wild With sudden doubt and frenzied jealousy. His goodness seemed but evil,--as by the quick Hot-bolted lightning blasted, or as poison Transforms the fairest ornaments. In this Mad frenzy, at this same hour of midnight, I fled from him. Since then I’ve been a restless Wanderer on the earth. But, oh! on me The blame harder doth rest than it doth rest-- On thee!

NORTHLAKE.

On me? Why, who art thou?

CATHARINE [_unmasking_].

Thy lady Catharine.--Thou gallant gentleman, I may again return to thee. Good-night!

[_Exit_ CATHARINE.

NORTHLAKE.

Lost wife, return! ’Tis pitiful! By thee These lonely years my life’s been haunted. Once In each year thy visits, like untimely Seasons, come upon me, when and where I never know; but once in each year, lightening My weary path. Mysterious and strange, Thou ne’er before hast spoken. Thou blameless Catharine, Return. Our sins of jealousy have borne Such fruit as grows from poisoned ground; and yet Nor Time nor forcing Will can make us what We were in our first wedded life. These agents Are far too weak; they never can restore To us the faith that’s lost in our past lives,-- Lost like a pearl dropped in dissolving flame, Its white and saintly fabric gone in a moment. Unhappy Catharine, and thou my more Unhappy self! These revels mock us. Poor mask!

[_Lays down his mask._

The mask that hath been torn from off my heart This night hath left a shadow tenfold darker Than is thine own. I’ll go seek Violet, For she is like the beauteous sunlit day.

[_Listening to strains of music from the ball-room._

Music doth hold melodious discourse.

[_Walks, in meditation and soliloquy._

Why, I am growing melancholy. My sun’s Across the line and courses the horizon; My nights are growing longer than my days; The glad days wane, until, as in the deepening Winter, near the northern pole, they’ll come But for a moment, a wedge of light between Two nights. Oh, hasten, come, thou blank, perpetual Night! [_Music ceases._] The instruments are dumb, the players Are at rest; but their unceased vibrations On struggling chords yet tremble in my breast. Alas! such is the growth of melancholy.

[_Exit._

Act the Fourth.