Lewis. A week or more. Eliz. Brave heart! And all that time your tendernessKept silence, knowing my weak foolish soul. [Weeps.]O love! O life! Late found, and soon, soon lost!A bleak sunrise,—a treacherous morning gleam,—And now, ere mid-day, all my sky is blackWith whirling drifts once more! The march is fixedFor this day month, is’t not? Lewis. Alas, too true! Eliz. Oh break not, heart! [Conrad enters.] Ah! here my master comes.No weeping before him. Lewis. Speak to the holy man:He can give strength and comfort, which poor INeed even more than you. Here, saintly master,I leave her to your holy eloquence. Farewell!God help us both! [Exit Lewis.] Eliz [rising]. You know, Sir, that my husband has taken the cross! Con. I do; all praise to God! Eliz. But none to you:Hard-hearted! Am I not enough your slave?Can I obey you more when he is goneThan now I do? Wherein, pray, has he hinderedThis holiness of mine, for which you make meOld ere my womanhood? [Conrad offers to go.]Stay, Sir, and tell meIs this the outcome of your ‘father’s care’?Was it not enough to poison all my joysWith foulest scruples?—show me nameless sins,Where I, unconscious babe, blessed God for all things,But you must thus intrigue away my knightAnd plunge me down this gulf of widowhood!And I not twenty yet—a girl—an orphan—That cannot stand alone! Was I too happy?O God! what lawful bliss do I not buyAnd balance with the smart of some sharp penance?Hast thou no pity? None? Thou drivest meTo fiendish doubts: Thou, Jesus’ messenger? Con. This to your master! Eliz. This to any oneWho dares to part me from my love. Con. ’Tis well—In pity to your weakness I must deignTo do what ne’er I did—excuse myself.I say, I knew not of your husband’s purpose;God’s spirit, not I, moved him: perhaps I sinnedIn that I did not urge it myself. Eliz. Thou traitor!So thou would’st part us? Con. Aught that makes thee greaterI’ll dare. This very outburst proves in theePassions unsanctified, and carnal leaningsUpon the creatures thou would’st fain transcend.Thou badest me cure thy weakness. Lo, God brings theeThe tonic cup I
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