Act 3 — SCENE III.—A rugged Cliff that overhangs the River.

Enter Longueville and Sanguine.

Long. Tardy, neglectful slave! still does he loiter?

Sang. Nay, return to the pavilion; the signal soon must greet us: you bade Lenoire to sound his bugle when he reached the bank.

Long. Ay, thrice the blast should be repeated; still must I listen for those notes of destiny in vain? hark! here you nothing now?

Sang. Only the rising tide that murmurs hoarsly as it frets and chafes against the bank below us.

Long. Is midnight passed?

Sang. Long since: just as we crossed the glen the monastery chime swang heavy with the knell of yesterday.

Long. A guiltless end that flighted yesterday hath reached. O! that the morrow found as clear a tomb! When the next midnight tolls, Eugenia, thou wilt rest in blessedness, whilst thy murderer—Ah! what charmed couch shall bring the sweet forgetful slumber at that hour to me? Midnight, the welcome sabbath of unstained souls, O, to the murderer thou art terrible—silence and darkness that with the innocent make blessed time, to him bring curses, for then through sealed ears and close-veiled eyes, strange sounds and sights will steal their way, that in the hum and glare of day-light dare not stir: then o’er the wretch’s forehead ooze cold beads of dew—-in feverish, brain-sick dreams, with starts and groans: on beds of seeming down he feels the griding rack, and finds himself a hell more fierce, than fiends can show hereafter.

Sang. How now, my lord? unmanned by conscience? Nay, then, let Eugenia live.

Long. Not for an angel’s birthright! think’st thou I would deign to breathe on wretched sufferance? No, no; her death is necessary to my honor and my peace. Come on! my hand may falter, but my heart’s resolved; ’tis sworn, inexorably sworn: Eugenia dies.

Exeunt.