Bertrand! he sav"d my life:--I will not see it.
_Ber._ I do not mean you should; nay, I refus"d To bring it you.
_Or._ Refus"d to bring the letter?
_Ber._ Yes, I refus"d at first.
_Or._ Then thou _hast_ brought it?
My faithful Bertrand!--come.
_Ber._ "Twere best not see it.
_Or._ Not see it! how! not read my Julia"s letter!
An empire should not bribe me to forbear.
Come, come.
_Ber._ Alas, how frail is human virtue!
My resolution melts, and though I mean not To trust you with the letter, I must tell you With what a thousand, thousand charms she gave it.
"Take this," said she, "and as Orlando reads it, Attend to every accent of his voice; Watch every little motion of his eye; Mark if it sparkles when he talks of Julia; If when he speaks, poor Julia be the theme; If when he sighs, his bosom heave for Julia: Note every trifling act, each little look, For, oh! of what importance is the least To those who love like me!"
_Or._ Delicious poison!
O how it taints my soul! give me the letter.
[BERTRAND _offers it_, ORLANDO _refuses_.
Ha! where"s the virtue which but now I boasted?
"Tis lost, "tis gone--conflicting pa.s.sions tear me.
I am again a villain.--Give it--no; A spark of honour strikes upon my soul.
Take back the letter; take it back, good Bertrand!
Spite of myself compel me to be just: I will not read it.
_Ber._ How your friend will thank you!
Another day makes Julia his for ever.
Even now the great pavilion is prepar"d; There will the nuptial rites be solemnis"d.
Julia already dress"d in bridal robes Like some fair victim----
_Or._ O, no more, no more.
What can she write to me?
_Ber._ Some prudent counsel.
Or. Then wherefore fear to read it? come, I"ll venture: What wondrous harm can one poor letter do?
The letter--quick the letter.
_Ber._ Since you force me. [_Gives it._
_Or._ Be firm, ye shivering nerves! It is her hand.
(_Reads._) "To spare my blushes Bertrand brings you this.
How have you wrong"d me! you believ"d me false; "Twas my compa.s.sion for your friend deceiv"d you.
Meet me at midnight in the great pavilion; But shun till then my presence; from that hour My future life is yours; your once-lov"d friend I pity and esteem; but you alone Possess the heart of Julia."
This to me!
I dream, I rave, "tis all Elysium round me, And thou, my better angel! this to me!
_Ber._ I"m dumb: oh, Julia! what a fall is thine!
_Or._ What! is it such a crime to love? away---- Thy moral comes too late; thou shouldst have urg"d Thy scruple sooner, or not urg"d at all: Thou shouldst--alas! I know not what I say-- But this I know, the charming Julia loves me, Appoints a meeting at the dead of night!
She loves! The rest is all beneath my care.
_Ber._ Be circ.u.mspect; the hour is just at hand; Since all is ready for your purpos"d parting, See your attendants be dispos"d aright, Near the pavilion gate.
_Or._ Why so?
_Ber._ "Tis plain Julia must be the partner of your flight: "Tis what she means, you must not mind her struggles; A little gentle violence perhaps, To make her yield to what she had resolv"d, And save her pride; she"ll thank you for it after.
_Or._ Take her by force? I like not that: O Bertrand, There is a mutinous spirit in my blood, That wars against my conscience.--Tell my Julia I will not fail to meet her.
_Ber._ I obey.
Be near the garden: I shall soon return.
[_Exit_ BERTRAND.
_Or._ This giant sin, whose bulk so lately scar"d me, Shrinks to a common size; I now embrace What I but lately fear"d to look upon.
Why, what a progress have I made in guilt!
Where is the hideous form it lately wore?
It grows familiar to me; I can think, Contrive, and calmly meditate on mischief; Talk temp"rately of sin, and cherish crimes I lately so abhorr"d, that had they once But glanc"d upon the surface of my fancy, I had been terrified. Oh, wayward conscience!
Too tender for repose, to sear"d for penitence!
[_Exit_ ORLANDO.
_Scene changes to another part of the garden--A grand pavilion--The moon shining._
_Enter_ RIVERS _in a melancholy att.i.tude_.
_Riv._ Ye lovely scenes of long remember"d bliss!
Scenes which I hop"d were fated to bestow Still dearer blessings in a beauteous bride!
Thou gay pavilion, which art dress"d so fair To witness my espousals, why, ah! why Art thou adorn"d in vain? Yet still I haunt thee, For Julia lov"d thee once:--dear faithless Julia!
Yet is she false? Orlando swore she was not: It may be so; yet she avoids my presence, Keeps close from every eye, but most from mine.
_Enter_ ORLANDO.
_Or._ Ha! Rivers here! would I had shunn"d his walks!
How shall I meet the man I mean to wrong?
_Riv._ Why does Orlando thus expose his health To this cold air?
_Or._ I ask the same of Rivers?
_Riv._ Because this solitude, this silent hour, Feeds melancholy thoughts, and soothes my soul.
My Julia will not see me.