COUNTESS. Didst thou slay him sleeping? The horrible deed!-Thou couldst not! O thou couldst not! GARCIO. Well mayst thou say it! I've become, sweet Margaret, Living, though most unworthy as I was, Companion of thy virtues, one whose heart In bloody, savage, predatory war Was rear'd. It was no shock to my rude childhood To see whole bands of drunk or sleeping men In cold blood butcher'd. Could I tell to thee The things that I have seen things, too, in which My young hand took its part; thou wouldst not wonder, Love, fortune, honours, all within the purchase The behaviour of the countess surpasses, if possible, the force and thrilling effect of the whole scene. Nothing can be finer than her weakness and her strength, the calm dignity of her resolution, crossed by her fears for her husband's safety, and the lingering and inextinguishable feelings of deep attachment. We have marked one or two lines in italics. 'COUNTESS. And I have been the while thy bosom's mate, Pressing in plighted love the bloody hand That slew my brother! GARCIO. Thou, indeed, hast been An angel pure link'd to a fiend. Yet think not Turning delight to torment. Now thou knowest A world's proud monarch and the lothliest wretch (Speaking these last words loud and vehemently.) COUNTESS. Hush! speak not thus! thou'll be o'erheard: some list'ner Is at the door. I thought I heard a noise. I thought I heard a noise. (Going to the door, opening it, then shutting it softly and returning.) No; there is nothing: 't was my fears deceived me. GARCIO. And dost thou fear for me? Is there within thee Still Still some remains of love for one so guilty? Thou wilt not then, in utter detestation, Heap curses on my head. COUNTESS. Guilty as thou hast been, I cannot curse thee. O no! I'll nightly from my cloister'd cell Send up to pitying Heaven my prayers for thee. GARCIO. Thy cloister'd cell! What mean those threatening words? COUNTESS. Garcio, we must part. GARCIO. No; never! Any punishment but this! We shall not part. COUNTESS. We must, we must! "T were monstrous, 't were unholy Longer to live with thee. GARCIO. No, Margaret, no! Think'st thou I will indeed Submit to this, even cursed as I am? No; were I black as hell's black fiends, and thou Pure as celestial spirits (and so thou art), Still thou art mine; my sworn, my wedded love, And still as such I hold thee. COUNTESS. Heaven bids us part: yea, Nature bids us part. GARCIO. Heaven bids us part! Then let it send its lightning To strike me from thy side. Let yawning earth, Opening beneath my feet, divide us. Then, And not till then, will I from thee be sever'd. COUNTESS. Let go thy terrible grasp: thou wouldst not o'er me A dreaded tyrant rule? Beneath thy power Thou mayst indeed retain me, crush'd, degraded, Of thy perturbed eye, like a quell'd slave, And lost for ever. GARCIO. And canst thou be so ruthless? No, thou canst not! Let Heaven in its just vengeance deal with me! Let pain, remorse, disease, and every ill Here in this world of nature be my portion! And in the world of spirits too well I know Is this too little for thy cruelty? No; by the living God! on my curst head Light every ill but this! We shall not part. COUNTESS. Let go thy desperate hold, thou desperate man! Thou dost constrain me to an oath as dreadful; And by that awful name GARCIO. Forbear, forbear! Then it must be; there is no mitigation. (Throws himself on the ground, uttering a deep groan, when ROVANI and SOPHERA burst in upon them from opposite sides.) ROVANI (to the COUNTESS). What is the matter? Hath he on himself Done some rash act? I heard him loud and stormy. SOPHERA. She cannot answer thee: look to the Count, And I will place her gently on her couch; For they are both most wretched. (SOPHERA Supports the COUNTESS, while ROVANI endeavours to raise GARCIO from the ground, and the scene closes.)' vol. ii. pp. 48-60. Religion subdues the mind of Garcio, not merely to consent to, but to acknowledge the inevitable necessity of the Separation. He submits to it as a meet penance for his awful crime. His strength now comes in aid of her almost wavering, almost failing resolution. The parting scene between Garcio and the Countess is equally high-wrought and affecting : 'COUNTESS. Alas! thou'rt greatly alter'd: GARCIO. A night spent in the tossings of despair, Works on the mortal frame the scathe of years. COUNTESS. Alas! thy frame will feel, I fear, too soon The scathe of years. Sorrow and sickness then Will bow thee down, while cold unkindly strangers Neglect thy couch, nor give thee needful succour. GARCIO. And wherefore grieve for this? So much the better: They least befriend the wretched who retard The hour of his release. Why should I live If Heaven accept my penitence? Hath earth Aught still to raise a wish, or gleam the path Of one so darken'd round with misery? COUNTESS. Nay, say not so: thy child, thy boy, to see him In strength and stature grown,-would not this tempt thee To wish some years of life? GARCIO. Others shall rear him; others mark his change From the sweet cherub to the playful boy; Shall, with such pity as an orphan claims, Share in his harmless sports and catch his love; COUNTESS. 'COUNTESS. O think not so! he shall be taught to love theeHe shall be taught to lisp thy name, and raise His little hands to Heaven for blessings on thee As one most dear, though absent. GARCIO. I do believe that thou wilt teach him so. * * 'COUNTESS. And wilt thou then a houseless wand'rer be? Shall I, in warm robe wrapp'd, by winter fire List to the pelting blast, and think the while Of thy unshelter'd head?. Or eat my bread in peace, and think that Garcio Reduce me not to such keen misery! (Bursting into an agony of lears.) GARCIO. And dost thou still feel so much pity for me? Retain I yet some portion of thy love? O, if I do—I am not yet abandoned To utter reprobation. (Falling at her feet, and embracing her knees.) Margaret! wife! May I still call thee by that name so dear? COUNTESS (disentangling herself from his hold, and removing to some distance.) O, leave me, leave me! for Heaven's mercy leave me! GARCIO (following her, and bending one knee to the ground.) Margaret, beloved wife! keenly beloved! COUNTESS. Oh, move me not! forbear, forbear in pity! Fearful, and horrible, and dear thou art! Both heaven and hell are in thee! Leave me then,— Leave me to do that which is right and holy. GARCIO. Yes, what is right and holy thou shalt do; Stain'd as I am with blood-with kindred blood— How could I live with thee? O do not think I basely seek to move thee from thy purpose, O, no! Farewell, most dear and honour'd Margaret; GARCIO. If but that hand beloved were to my lips Once more in parting press'd, methinks I'd go With lighten'd misery. Alas! thou canst not! I can! I will! COUNTESS. VOL. LV. NO. CX. 2 L We We have hitherto chosen our extracts chiefly to display the strong dramatic effect of these compositions-before we conclude, we must make room for one more passage in Miss Baillie's sweetest tone of poetry: 'SOPHERA. And look, I pray, how sweet and fresh and fragrant The dewy morning is. There, o'er our heads The birds conven'd like busy gossips sit, Trimming their speckled feathers. In the thick COUNTESS. Yes, all things, in a sunny morn like this, That social being have and fellowship With others of their kind, begin the day Gladly and actively. Ah! how wakes he, On the cold earth hath pass'd the dismal night? SOPHERA. Nay, do not let your fancy brood on this, In dreary solitude. In every country Kind hearts are found to cheer the stranger's way. SOPHERA. Then be not so cast down. Last night the air COUNTESS. The unhoused head! and Garcio's now is such!' vol. ii. pp. 79, 80. The close of the Separation is rather melo-dramatic; but on the stage might produce a stirring effect. The Marquis of Tortona, indignant at the contemptuous rejection of his suit by the widow-wife of Garcio, invests the castle with a great body of troops. Among the objects of charity who crowd to the hospitable gate of the Countess is a mysterious hermit, who conceals himself in the castle during this siege. The small garrison is re duced |