Lydia. From a foe More dire than he that putteth life in peril -Wal. Sweet Lydia, I beseech you spare me.
Lydia. No!
I will not spare you.--You have brought me to safety, You whom I fear worse than that baleful foe.
[Rises to go.]
Wal. [Kneeling and snatching her hand.] Lydia!
Lydia. Now, make thy bounty perfect. Drop My hand. That posture which dishonours thee, Quit!--for 'tis shame on shame to show respect Where we do feel disdain. Throw ope thy gate And let me pass, and never seek with me, By look, or speech, or aught, communion more!
Wal. Thou saidst thou lovedst me?
Lydia. Yes! when I believed My tongue did take of thee its last adieu, And now that I do know it--for be sure It never bids adieu to thee again -Again, I tell it thee! Release me, sir!
Rise!--and no hindrance to my will oppose.
That would be free to go.
Wal. I cannot lose thee!
Lydia. Thou canst not have me!
Wal. No!
Lydia. Thou canst not. I Repeat it.--Yet I'm thine--thine every way, Except where honour fences!--Honour, sir, Not property of gentle blood alone;Of gentle blood not always property!
Thou'lt not obey me. Still enforcest me!
Oh, what a contradiction is a man!
What in another he one moment spurns, The next--he does himself complacently!
Wal. Wouldst have me lose the hand that holds my life?
Lydia. Hear me and keep it, if thou art a man!
I love thee--for thy benefit would give The labour of that hand!--wear out my feet Rack the invention of my mind!--the powers Of my heart in one volition gather up!
My life expend, and think no more I gave Than he who wins a priceless gem for thanks!
For such goodwill canst thou return me wrong?
Wal. Yet, for awhile, I cannot let thee go.
Propound for me an oath that I'll not wrong thee!
An oath, which, if I break it, will entail Forfeit of earth and heaven. I'll take it--so Thou stay'st one hour with me.
Lydia. No!--Not one moment!
Unhand me, or I shriek!--I know the summons Will pierce into the street, and set me free!
I stand in peril while I'm near thee! She Who knows her danger, and delays escape, Hath but herself to thank, whate'er befalls!
Sir, I may have a woman's weakness, but I have a woman's resolution, too, And that's a woman's strength!
One moment more! - Wal. Lo! Thou art free to go!
[Rises and throws himself distractedly into a chair.]
[LYDIA approaches the door--her pace slackens--she pauses with her hand upon the lock--turns, and looks earnestly on WALLER.]
Lydia. I have a word To say to thee; if by thy mother's honour, Thou swear'st to me thou wilt not quit thy seat.
Wal. I swear as thou propound'st to me.
Lydia. [After a pause, bursting into tears.] Oh, why -Why have you used me thus? See what you've done!
Essayed to light a guilty passion up, And kindled in its stead a holy one!
For I do love thee! Know'st thou not the wish To find desert doth bring it oft to sight Where yet it is not? so, for substance, passes What only is a phantasm of our minds!
I feared thy love was guilty--yet my wish To find it honest, stronger than my fear, My fear with fatal triumph overthrew!
Now hope and fear give up to certainty, And I must fly thee--yet must love thee still!
Wal. Lydia! by all - Lydia. I pray you hear me out!
Was 't right? was 't generous? was 't pitiful?
One way or other I might be undone:
To love with sin--or love without a hope!
Wal. Yet hear me, Lydia! - Lydia. Stop! I'm undone!
A maid without a heart--robbed of the soil, Wherein life's hopes and wishes root and spring, And thou the foe that did me so much hate, And vowed me so much love!--but I forgive thee!
Yea, I do bless thee!
[Rushing up and sinking at his feet.]
Recollect thy oath! - Or in thy heart lodged never germ of honour, But 'tis a desert all!
[She kisses his hand--presses it to her heart, and kisses it again.]
Farewell then to thee!
[Rises.]
Mayst thou be happy. [Going.]
Wal. Wouldst ensure the thing Thou wishest?
[She moves towards the door with a gesture that prohibits further converse.]
Stop! [She continues to move on.]
Oh, sternly resolute! [She still moves.]
I mean thee honour!
[She stops and turns towards him.]
Thou dost meditate - I know it--flight. Give me some pause for thought, But to confirm a mind almost made up.
If in an hour thou hearest not from me, then Think me a friend far better lost than won!
Wilt thou do this?
Lydia. I will.
Wal. An hour decides.
[They go out severalty.]
