Scene II Julia’s Chamber
[Enter Julia.]
Julia. No word from him, and evening now set in!
He cannot play me false! His messenger
Is dogged—or letter intercepted. I’m
Beset with spies!—No rescue!—No escape!—
The hour at hand that brings my bridegroom home!
No relative to aid me! friend to counsel me.
[A knock at the door.]
Come in.
[Enter two Female Attendants.]
Your will?
First Attendant. Your toilet waits, my lady;
’Tis time you dress.
Julia. ’Tis time I die! [A peal of bells.] What’s that?
First Attendant. Your wedding bells, my lady.
Julia. Merrily
They ring my knell!
[Second Attendant presents an open case.]
And pray you what are these?
Second Attendant. Your wedding jewels.
Julia. Set them by.
Second Attendant. Indeed.
Was ne’er a braver set! A necklace, brooch,
And earrings all of brilliants, with a hoop
To guard your wedding ring.
Julia. ’Twould need a guard
That lacks a heart to keep it!
Second Attendant. Here’s a heart
Suspended from the necklace—one huge diamond
Imbedded in a host of smaller ones!
Oh! how it sparkles!
Julia. Show it me! Bright heart,
Thy lustre, should I wear thee, will be false,—
For thou the emblem art of love and truth,—
From her that wears thee unto him that gives thee.
Back to thy case! Better thou ne’er shouldst leave it—
Better thy gems a thousand fathoms deep
In their native mine again, than grace my neck,
And lend thy fair face to palm off a lie!
First Attendant. Will’t please you dress?
Julia. Ah! in infected clothes
New from a pest-house! Leave me! If I dress,
I dress alone! O for a friend! Time gallops!
[Attendants go out.]
He that should guard me is mine enemy!
Constrains me to abide the fatal die,
My rashness, not my reason cast! He comes,
That will exact the forfeit!—Must I pay it?—
E’en at the cost of utter bankruptcy!
What’s to be done? Pronounce the vow that parts
My body from my soul! To what it loathes
Links that, while this is linked to what it loves!
Condemned to such perdition! What’s to be done?
Stand at the altar in an hour from this!
An hour thence seated at his board—a wife
Thence!—frenzy’s in the thought! What’s to be done?
[Enter Master Walter.]
Wal. What! run the waves so high? Not ready yet!
Your lord will soon be here! The guests collect.
Julia. Show me some way to ’scape these nuptials! Do it!
Some opening for avoidance or escape,—
Or to thy charge I’ll lay a broken heart!
It may be, broken vows, and blasted honour,
Or else a mind distraught!
Wal. What’s this?
Julia. The strait
I’m fallen into my patience cannot bear.
It frights my reason—warps my sense of virtue!
Religion!—changes me into a thing
I look at with abhorring!
Wal. Listen to me.
Julia. Listen to me! If this contract
Thou holdest me to—abide thou the result!
Answer to heaven for what I suffer!—act!
Prepare thyself for such calamity
To fall on me, and those whose evil stars
Have linked them with me, as no past mishap,
However rare, and marvellously sad
Can parallel! lay thy account to live
A smileless life, die an unpitied death—
Abhorred, abandoned of thy kind,—as one
Who had the guarding of a young maid’s peace,—
Looked on and saw her rashly peril it;
And when she saw her danger, and confessed
Her fault, compelled her to complete her ruin!
Wal. Hast done?
Julia. Another moment, and I have.
Be warned! Beware how you abandon me
To myself! I’m young, rash, inexperienced! tempted
By most insufferable misery!
Bold, desperate, and reckless! Thou hast age
Experience, wisdom, and collectedness,—
Power, freedom,—everything that I have not,
Yet want, as none e’er wanted! Thou canst save me,
Thou oughtst! thou must! I tell thee at his feet
I’ll fall a corse—ere mount his bridal bed!
So choose betwixt my rescue and my grave;—
And quickly too! The hour of sacrifice
Is near! Anon the immolating priest
Will summon me! Devise some speedy means
To cheat the altar of its victim. Do it!
Nor leave the task to me!
Wal. Hast done?
Julia. I have.
Wal. Then list to me—and silently, if not
With patience.—[Brings chairs for himself and her.]
How I watched thee from thy childhood
I’ll not recall to thee. Thy father’s wisdom—
Whose humble instrument I was—directed
Your nonage should be passed in privacy,
From your apt mind that far outstripped your years,
Fearing the taint of an infected world;—
For, in the rich grounds, weeds once taking root,
Grow strong as flowers. He might be right or wrong!
I thought him right; and therefore did his bidding.
Most certainly he loved you—so did I;
Ay! well as I had been myself your father!
[His hand is resting upon his knee, Julia attempts to take it—he withdraws it—looks at her—she hangs her head.]
Well; you may take my hand! I need not say
How fast you grew in knowledge, and in goodness,—
That hope could scarce enjoy its golden dreams
So soon fulfilment realised them all!
Enough. You came to womanhood. Your heart,
Pure as the leaf of the consummate bud,
That’s new unfolded by the smiling sun,
And ne’er knew blight nor canker!
[Julia attempts to place her other hand on his shoulder—he leans from her—looks at her—she hangs her head again.]
Put it there!
Where left I off? I know! When a good woman
Is fitly mated, she grows doubly good,
How good soe’er before! I found the man
I thought a match for thee; and, soon as found,
Proposed him to thee. ’Twas your father’s will,
Occasion offering, you should be married
Soon as you reached to womanhood.—You liked
My choice, accepted him.—We came to town;
Where, by important matter summoned thence,
I left you an affianced bride!
Julia. You did!
You did! [Leans her head upon her hand and weeps.]
Wal. Nay, check thy tears! Let judgment now,
Not passion, be awake. On my return,
I found thee—what? I’ll not describe the thing
I found thee then! I’ll not describe my pangs
To see thee such a thing! The engineer
Who lays the last stone of his sea-built tower,
It cost him years and years of toil to raise—
And, smiling at it, tells the winds and waves
To roar and whistle now—but, in a night,
Beholds the tempest sporting in its place—
May look aghast, as I did!
Julia. [Falling on her knees.] Pardon me!
Forgive me! pity me!
Wal. Resume thy seat. [Raises her.]
I pity thee; perhaps not thee alone
It fits to sue for pardon.
Julia. Me alone!
None other!
Wal. But to vindicate myself,
I name thy lover’s stern desertion of thee.
What wast thou then with wounded pride? A thing
To leap into a torrent! throw itself
From a precipice! rush into a fire! I saw
Thy madness—knew to thwart it were to chafe it—
And humoured it to take that course, I thought,
Adopted, least ’twould rue!
Julia. ’Twas wisely done.
Wal. At least ’twas for the best.
Julia. To blame thee for it
Was adding shame to shame! But Master Walter,
These nuptials!—must they needs go on?
Servant. [Entering.] More guests
Arrive.
Wal. Attend to them. [Servant goes out.]
Julia. Dear Master Walter!
Is there no way to escape these nuptials?
Wal. Know’st not
What with these nuptials comes? Hast thou forgot?
Julia. What?
Wal. Nothing!—I did tell thee of a thing.
Julia. What was it?
Wal. To forget it was a fault!
Look back and think.
Julia. I can’t remember it.
Wal. Fathers, make straws your children! Nature’s nothing,
Blood nothing! Once in other veins it runs,
It no more yearneth for the parent flood,
Than doth the stream that from the source disparts.
Talk not of love instinctive—what you call so
Is but the brat of custom! Your own flesh
By habit cleaves to you—without,
Hath no adhesion. [Aside.] So; you have forgot
You have a father, and are here to meet him!
Julia. I’ll not deny it.
Wal. You should blush for’t.
Julia. No!
No! no: hear, Master Walter! what’s a father
That you’ve not been to me? Nay, turn not from me,
For at the name a holy awe I own,
That now almost inclines my knee to earth!
But thou to me, except a father’s name,
Hast all the father been: the care—the love—
The guidance—the protection of a father.
Canst wonder, then, if like thy child I feel,—
And feeling so, that father’s claim forget
Whom ne’er I knew save by the name of one?
Oh, turn to me, and do not chide me! or
If thou wilt chide, chide on! but turn to me!
Wal. [Struggling with emotion.] My Julia!
[Embraces her.]
Julia. Now, dear Master Walter, hear me!
Is there no way to ’scape these nuptials?
Wal. Julia,
A promise made admits not of release,
Save by consent or forfeiture of those
Who hold it—so it should be pondered well
Before we let it go. Ere man should say
I broke the word I had the power to keep,
I’d lose the life I had the power to part with!
Remember, Julia, thou and I to-day
Must, to thy father, of thy training render
A strict account. While honour’s left to us,
We have something—nothing, having all but that.
Now for thy last act of obedience, Julia!
Present thyself before thy bridegroom! [She assents.] Good!
My Julia’s now herself! Show him thy heart,
And to his honour leave’t to set thee free
Or hold thee bound. Thy father will be by!