Of. (placing his hand upon her). We must divide

Eus.

you.

wretch.

Hold! (to Gerault). Thou 'rt less á

Lead her with kindness home, she's young in sorrow, And never learnt hard usage till I taught her.

Farewell, farewell!

[Exit with the rest.

Ann. (falling into the arms of Gerault).

Now thou art false indeed!

No hill, no tower from its vapoury bed

Leaps up to mark the bounds of earth and heaven.

The stars too glide and glimmer underneath us

Like those above.

Where are we, gentle guide?

Ger. Those lights are burning in the sleepless city. This height thou 'st trod with happier feet ere now— Bewilder'd girl, dost thou forget Montmartre?

Ann. O, thou dost well remind me! for this scene Is known as loved, and that is truly. Here

Each summer eve I parted with Eustache,
And first did learn to weep.

Ger.

And here, as then,

I'd have thee think upon thy peaceful home,

And learn to smile again.

VOL. I.

F

Ann.
To smile! on whom?
Thou madest a promise and an oath. O think
How base is he who cheats the broken-hearted!

Ger. Mistrust me not. I grieve, but will be faithful.
Ann. So shalt thou gain a blessing which thou 'lt

count

Amongst the sunbeams of a stormy life:

A scatter'd plank to save thee from despair

When seas of blood would overwhelm thy death-bed. Ger. Yet 'tis a fearful place thou 'dst have me show

Is something desperate. At thy feet, sweet maid,
I do beseech thy pity on thyself.

Ann. Came I not here in pity of myself?
Here lies our downward path. I do believe
That thou wert made for tenderness and virtue,

And walk'd in crime by accident.

Alas!

I can but pay thy labour with my thanks.

A Prison.

EUSTACHE AND Guard.

Eus. The hours pass slowly-tell me, if you will,

How near my last approaches?

Guard.

It is midnight

Already.

Eus.

The last minute that was granted

To my desire, and yet Mathilde not here?
I did entreat a swifter messenger.

Guard. Perhaps the maid is wise, and better loves To meet new friends than say farewell to old.

Eus. And wilt thou jeer the dying? If thy soul Were not too crusted in with blood and murder I could relate enough to make it human.

Guard. So every one of you believes his fate The hardest; and, for partings and last wills, And whatsoe'er comes readiest, implores Fresh work for the tribunal's ministers, To wait and watch till he hath heart to die. Eus. Was it for dread of death I ask'd to live? Thou slanderer! What if the same wild day Beheld thee wreathed in blushing bridal fetters, Then saw them sudden changed to links of iron, And these so soon to yield their victim up To bondage in a blood-bedappled shroud? Wouldst thou not long for some fond faithful ear, To listen while thou saidst, "These things are strange?" Guard. But still this wonderer comes not.

Poor Mathilde!

Eus.
Wedded and widow'd in a day, thy spirit

Hath too much woman in it not to sink;

Thou canst not come. Yet she whom I forsook
Was firm and fond enough to share my dungeon!
-I heard a knocking!

Guard.

"Twas the workman's hammer

Joining the sledge that bears thee to thy doom:
Thou art more honour'd than the herd of culprits.

Eus. (in deep thought). I tempted thee to falsehood-Can it be

Thou wert too apt a pupil? Fie! 'tis savage
To doubt thy truth ere yet the virgin blush
Hath left thy cheek. Thou wilt be here.—A cry !—
Guard. It is the rabble crowding round the portal
To see thee pass. The guard is turning out.

Eus. My heart beats strangely lest she should not

come !

Guard. Why, thou dost shake!

Eus.

No matter, say 'tis fear;

And though thou liest I will not tell thee so-
My mind's too busy to care what thou think'st-

I cannot die till I have heard thee swear

Eternal hatred of the foe whose hand

[relapsing.

In secret malice writes me down for carnage;

I cannot die till I have bade thee love

The poor-poor injured Annabelle (knocking). Thou heard'st?

It is a knocking, and now death is over-
And I'm in heaven. My wife! Mathilde!

[The door opens, and Merzon enters.

Merzon !

Mer. Thou sent'st a message to Mathilde, Eustache.
Eus. And did she fix on thee to bring the answer?
Mer. Did she not well to choose so dear a friend?

I have been comforting the wedded maid,
And come to say how well she is resign'd
To give thee to a better world.

Eus.

Thou comfort her?

The loathed, the spurn'd Merzon, whom, Heave

judge me,

I pitied for the distance I did fling him!

Mer. Thou wert indeed almost victorious;

Therefore 'twas needful to remove thee quickly.

Eus. And wilt thou boast thou wert not brave

enough

To meet me with an equal manliness?

Mer. Were the wrong equal, so were our conten

tion ;

We do not yield the robber stab for stab.

List, for thy time is brief. Thou didst believe

That thou wert wed to never-dying faith,

Which, shadow-like, would follow all thy fortunes
With equal steps-presumptuous aspirant!
What claim had'st thou to excellence so far
Above the reach of more deserving men?

Thy truth to her to whom thou first wert plighted?
What hope? thy bride's tried constancy to me?

Alas! thou 'lt find her weak and wavering

As thou thyself.

Eus.

Thou shameless and despised!

If such the prize, why has the loss of it
Thus driven thee to damn thyself?

Mer.

'Twas said

I lov'd the maid-'twas true-I lov'd her beauty.
'Twas said she had discarded me for thee;
And this was true. Now tell when mortal man
Hath laid his hand on aught that pleas'd the will