Robert Jephson

“ Enter Adelaide, Jaqueline following.
Jaq. Where do you fly? Heavens! have you lost all sense?
Adel. Oh, 'would I had! for then I should not feel;
But I have sense enough to know I am wretched,
To see the full extent of misery,
Yet not enough to teach me how to bear it.
Jaq. I did not think your gentleness of nature
Could rise to such extremes.
Adel. Am I not tame?
What are these tears, this wild, dishevel'd hair?
Are these fit signs for such despair as mine?
Women will weep for trifles, bawbles, nothing. ”

“ Countess. No, on my soul!—Is Narbonne all the world?
My country is where thou art; place is little:
The sun will shine, the earth produce its fruits,
Cheerful, and plenteously, where'er we wander.
In humbler walks, bless'd with my child and thee.
[pg 17]
I'd think it Eden in some lonely vale,
Nor heave one sigh for these proud battlements.
Count. Such flowery softness suits not matron lips.
But thou hast mighty reasons for thy prayer:
They should be mighty reasons, to persuade
Their rightful lord to leave his large possessions,
A soldier challeng'd, to decline the combat. ”

“ But cruelty's hard stroke, more fell than time,
Works at the base, and shakes it to the centre.
Enter the Countess.
Countess. Will then, these dreadful sounds ne'er leave my ears?
Our marriage was accurs'd; too long we have liv'd
"In bonds forbid; think me no more thy husband;
The avenging bolt, for that incestuous name,
Falls on my house, and spreads the ruin wide."
These were his words.
Adel. Oh, ponder them no more!
Lo! where the blessed minister of peace,
He, whose mild counsels wont to charm your care,
Is kindly come to cheer your drooping soul;
And see, the good man weeps. ”

“ For, bright as ruddy meteors through the sky,
The thought flames here, shall light me to my safety.
Fabian, away! Send hither to me straight,
Renchild and Thybalt. [Exit Fabian.] They are young and fearless.
Thy flight, ungrateful Isabel, compels me
[pg 55]
To this rude course. I would have all with kindness;
Nor stain the snow-white flower of my true love
With spots of violence. But it must be so.
This lordly priest, this Clarinsal, or Austin,
Like a true churchman, by his calling tainted,
Prates conscience; and in craft abets Earl Godfrey,
That Isabel may wed his upstart son. ”

“ But, Oh my Edmund!—Thou remember'st, Fabian,
How blithe he went to seek the forest's sport!
Fab. 'Would I could not remember!
Count. That cursed barb,
(My fatal gift) that dash'd him down the cliff,
Seem'd proud of his gay burden.—Breathless, mangled,
They bore him back to me. Fond man! I hoped
This day, this happy match with Isabel
Had made our line perpetual; and, this day,
The unfruitful grave receives him. Yes, 'tis fate!
That dreadful denunciation 'gainst my house,
No prudence can avert, nor prayers can soften.
Fab. Think not on that; some visionary's dream. ”

“ From earth's encumbering clogs, shall soar above thee.
Anxious, as once in life, I'll hover round her,
Teach her new courage to sustain this blow,
And guard her, tyrant! from thy cruelty.
Count. Ha! give me way!
Aust. Why, this is madness, youth:
You but inflame the rage you should appease.
Theod. He thinks me vile. 'Tis true, indeed, I seem so:
But, though these humble weeds obscure my outside,
I have a soul, disdains his contumely;
A guiltless spirit, that provokes no wrong,
Nor from a monarch would endure it, offer'd:
Uninjur'd, lamb like; but a lion, rous'd. ”

“ Rather than thus!—Distraction!—Adelaide!
[pg 49]
Enter Adelaide.
Adel. Oh, whither shall I fly!
Theod. What means my love?
Why thus disturb'd?
Adel. The castle is beset;
The superstitious, fierce, inconstant people,
Madder than storms, with weapons caught in haste,
Menace my father's life; rage, and revile him;
Call him the heir of murderous usurpation;
And swear they'll own no rightful lord but Godfrey.
Aust. Blind wretches! I will hence, and try my power
To allay the tumult. Follow me, my son! ”

“ Theod. Fairer than thee! Oh, heavens! the delicate hand
Of nature, in her daintiest mood, ne'er fashion'd
Beauty so rare. Love's roseate deity,
Fresh from his mother's kiss, breath'd o'er thy mould
[pg 47]
That soft, ambrosial hue,—Fairer than thee!
'Twere blasphemy in any tongue but thine,
So to disparage thy unmatch'd perfections.
Adel. No, Theodore, I dare not hear thee longer;
Perhaps, indeed, there is some fatal cause.
Theod. There is not, cannot be. 'Tis but his pride,
Stung by resentment 'gainst thy furious father—
Adel. ”

“ Exit Fabian.
His sanctity, and reverend character,
His pious eloquence, made engines for me,
Might save a world of anguish to my soul,
And smooth my unwelcome purpose to Hortensia.
But how prevail with him?—Ambition?—No;
The world is dead in him, and gold is trash
To one, who neither needs, nor values it.
Interest and love shall wear the guise of conscience ”

“ Count. The virtue of our churchmen, like our wives,
Should be obedient meekness. Proud resistance,
Bandying high looks, a port erect and bold,
Are from the canon of your order, priest.
Learn this, for here will I be teacher, Austin;
Our temporal blood must not be stirr'd thus rudely:
A front that taunts, a scanning, scornful brow,
Are silent menaces, and blows unstruck. ”

“ Enter Adelaide.
Adel. Am I not here unwish'd for?
Theod. My best angel!
Were seas between us, thou art still where I am.
[pg 46]
I bear thy precious image ever round me,
As pious men the relics they adore.
Scarce durst I hope to be so blest to see thee,
But could not wish a joy beyond thy presence.
Adel. O Theodore! what wondrous turns of fortune
Have given thee back to a dear parent's arms? ”

“ Since now full seventeen years, the unfruitful curse
Has fallen upon Hortensia. Are these signs,
(Tremendous signs, that startle Nature's order!)
Graves casting up their sleepers, earth convuls'd,
Meteors that glare my children's timeless deaths,
Obscure to thee alone?—I have found the cause.
There is no crime our holy church abhors,
Not one high Heaven more strongly interdicts,
Than that commixture, by the marriage rite,
Of blood too near, as mine is to Hortensia.
Aust. Too near of blood! oh, specious mockery! ”

“ But, O my fluttering breast!—'Tis Theodore!
How sad, and earnestly, he views that paper!
It turns him pale. Beshrew the envious paper!
Why should it steal the colour from that cheek,
Which danger ne'er could blanch? He sees me not.
I'll wait; and should sad thoughts disturb his quiet,
If love has power, with love's soft breath dispel them. ”

“ But here I bid farewell to grief and fondness:
Let him go kneel, and sigh to Isabel:
And may he as obdurate find her heart,
As his has been to me.
Aust. Why, that's well said;—
'Tis better thus, than with consuming sorrow
To feed on your own life. Give anger scope:
Time, then, at length, will blunt this killing sense;
And peace, he ne'er must know again, be yours.
Countess. I was a woman, full of tenderness;
I am a woman, stung by injuries.
Narbonne was once my husband—my protector ”

“ Prays for me, while her life streams from my stroke.
What prayers can rise for such a wretch as I am?
Seize me, ye fiends! rouse all your stings and torments!
See, hell grows darker as I stalk before them.
Theod. [After looking some time at Adelaide's Body.]
'Tis my black destiny has murder'd thee.
Stand off— [They hold him.] I will not live. ”

“ SCENE III. The inside of a Convent, with Aisles and Gothic Arches; Part of an Altar appearing on one side; the Statue of Alphonso, in Armour, in the centre. Other Statues and Monuments also appearing. Adelaide veiled, rising from her knees before the Statue of Alphonso.
Adel. Alas! 'tis mockery to pray as I do.
Thoughts fit for heaven, should rise on seraphs' wings,
Unclogg'd with aught of earth; but mine hang here;
Beginning, ending, all in Theodore.
Why comes he not? 'Tis torture for the unbless'd,
To suffer such suspense as my heart aches with. ”

“ Ere night, thy kinsman Godfrey, will be master
Of all thy story:—
He is brave, and just,
And will support thy claim. Should proof and reason
Fail with the usurper, thou must try thy sword
(And Heaven will strike for thee) in combat with him.
The conscious flash of this thy grandsire's mail,
Worse than the horrors of the fabled Gorgon,
That curdled blood to stone, will shrink his sinews,
And cast the wither'd boaster at thy feet.
Theod. Grant it ye powers! but not to shed his blood:
The father of my Adelaide, that name—
Aust. ”

“ From Godfrey's fearful claim?
Countess. Too well I know it;
A fearful claim indeed!
Aust. To-morrow's sun
Will see him at these gates; but trust my faith,
No violence shall reach you. The rash count
(Lost to himself) by force detains me here.
Vain is his force:—our holy sanctuary,
Whate'er betides, shall give your virtue shelter ”

“ Oh, name not Heaven!
'Tis too profane abuse.
Count. Win her consent.
(I know thy sway is boundless o'er her will,)
Then join my hand to blooming Isabel.
Thus, will you do to all most worthy service;
[pg 29]
The curse, averted thus, shall pass from Narbonne;
My house again may flourish; and proud Godfrey,
Who now disputes, will ratify my title,
Pleas'd with the rich succession to his heirs.
Aust. Has passion drown'd all sense, all memory?
She was affianc'd to your son, young Edmund.
Count. She never lov'd my son. Our importunity
Won her consent, but not her heart, to Edmund. ”

“ This woman, who was once the wife of Raymond,
This curs'd forsaken woman here, has acted.
Aust. What slanderous tongue dare thus profane your virtue?
Madam, I know you well; and, by my order,
Each day, each hour, of your unspotted life,
Might give as fair a lesson to the world,
As churchmen's tongues can preach, or saints could practise. ”

“ Why do you shake thus? Death! your bloodless cheeks
Send fear into me. You, sir, what's the matter?
2 Offi. We have found the lady.
Count. My good fellows, where?
1 Offi. Here, from this spot, you may yourself behold her;
Her face is towards the altar.
Count. [Looking out.] Blasts upon me!
Wither my eyes for ever!—Ay, 'tis she;
Austin with Theodore; he joins their hands:—
Destruction seize them! O dull, tardy fool!
My love, and my ambition, both defeated!
A marriage in my sight! Come forth! come forth!
[Draws a Dagger.
[pg 59]
Arise, grim Vengeance, and wash out my shame! ”

“ Aust. And art thou so unskill'd in nature's language,
Still to mistrust us? Could our tongues deceive,
Credit, what ne'er was feign'd, the genuine heart:
Believe these pangs, these tears of joy and anguish. ”

“ One of the greatest faults, by which a dramatist can disappoint and fret his auditor, is also to be met with in this play.—Infinite discourse is exchanged, numberless plans formed, and variety of passions agitated, concerning a person, who is never brought upon the stage—Such is the personal nonentity of Isabel, in this tragedy, and yet the fable could not proceed without her.—Alphonso, so much talked of, yet never seen, is an allowable absentee, having departed [pg 4] to another world ”

“ Lord Orford, (at that time Mr. Horace Walpole,) attended some rehearsals of this tragedy, upon the very account, that himself was the founder of the fabric.
The author was of no mean reputation in the literary world, for he had already produced several successful dramas. "The Count of Narbonne" proved to be his last, and his best composition.——Terror is here ably excited by descriptions of the preternatural—Horror, by the portraiture of guilt; and compassion, by the view of suffering innocence.—These are three passions, which, divided, might each constitute a tragedy ”

“ These ill thoughts
Must not be cherish'd. That all righteous Power,
Whose hand inflicts, knows to reward our patience:
Farewell! command me ever as your servant,
And take the poor man's all, my prayers and blessing. ”

“ O fail not, nature, but support this conflict!
'Tis not delusion, sure. It must be he.—
But one thing more; did she not tell thee too,
Thy wretched father's name?
Theod. The lord of Clarinsal.
Why dost thou look so eagerly upon me?
If yet he lives, and thou know'st Clarinsal,
Tell him my tale.
Aust. Mysterious Providence!
Count. What's this? the old man trembles and turns pale. [Aside.
Theod. He will not let his offspring's timeless ghost
Walk unappeas'd; but on this cruel head
Exact full vengeance for his slaughter'd son.
[pg 36]
Aust. ”

“ Fly all; bring aid, if possible, to save her.
[pg 60]
Enter Adelaide, wounded, and supported by Austin. Theodore advances to her, and assists in supporting and bringing her forward. Some of the Count's Attendants enter from the Castle, with lighted Torches.
Count. Ha! lightning shiver me!
Adel. My lord! my father!
Oh, bear me to his feet.
Aust. Thou man of blood,
Past utterance lost; see what thy rage has done!
Count. Ruin! despair! my child, my Adelaide! ”

“ And turn me forth a friendless wanderer.
Aust. Lady, for your peace,
Think, conscience is the deepest source of anguish:
A bosom, free like yours, has life's best sunshine;
'Tis the warm blaze in the poor herdsman's hut ”

“ By vile suspicions, suck'd from nature's dregs,
And the loose, ravings of distemper'd fancy.
Countess. Yet, Oh, decline this challenge!
Count. That, hereafter.
Mean time, prepare my daughter to receive
A husband of my choice. Should Godfrey come,
(Strife might be so prevented) bid her try
Her beauty's power. Stand thou but neuter, Fate!
Courage, and art, shall arm me from mankind.
[Exeunt.
[pg 19]
ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. A Chamber.
Enter Fabian and Jaqueline.
Fab. No, no, it cannot be. ”