Название: Comic Tragedies
Автор: Alcott Louisa May
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная драматургия
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Leonore. Nay, 'tis I should grieve that I can find no way to show my gratitude to thee, my brave deliverer. But wilt thou not tell me who thou art? I would fain know to whom I owe my life and liberty.
Adrian. Nay, that I may not tell thee. I have sworn a solemn vow, and till that is fulfilled I may not cast aside this sorrowful disguise. Meanwhile, thou mayst call me Adrian. Wilt thou pardon and trust me still?
Leonore. Canst thou doubt my faith in thee? Thou and old Norna are the only friends now left to poor Leonore. I put my whole heart's trust in thee. But if thou canst not tell me of thyself, wilt tell me why thou hast done so much for me, a friendless maiden?
Adrian. I fear it will cause thee sorrow, lady; and thou hast grief enough to bear.
Leonore. Do not fear. I would so gladly know —
Adrian. Forgive me if I make thee weep: I had a friend, – most dear to me. He loved a gentle lady, but ere he could tell her this, he died, and bid me vow to watch above her whom he loved, and guard her with my life. I took the vow: that lady was thyself, that friend Count Louis.
Leonore. Ah, Louis! Louis! that heart thou feared to ask is buried with thee.
Adrian. Thou didst love him, lady?
Leonore. Love him? Most gladly would I lie down within my grave tonight, could I but call him back to life again.
Adrian. Grieve not; thou hast one friend who cannot change, – one who through joy and sorrow will find his truest happiness in serving thee. Hist! I hear a step: I will see who comes.
Leonore. Kind, watchful friend, how truly do I trust thee!
Adrian. Conceal thyself, dear lady, with all speed. 'Tis Count Rodolpho. Let me lead thee to the inner cave, – there thou wilt be safe.
[They retire within; noise heard without. Enter Rodolpho.
Rod. At last I am safe. Old Norna will conceal me till I can find means to leave the land. Ha! – voices within there. Ho, there! old wizard, hither! I have need of thee!
Adrian. What wouldst thou?
Rod. Nought. Get thee hence! I seek old Norna.
Adrian. Thou canst not see her; she is not here.
Rod. Not here? 'Tis false, – I heard a woman's voice within there. Let me pass!
Adrian. 'Tis not old Norna, and thou canst not pass.
Rod. Ah, then, who might it be, my most mysterious sir?
Adrian. The Lady Leonore.
Rod. Ha! – how came she hither? By my soul, thou liest! Stand back and let me go. She is mine!
Adrian. Thou canst only enter here above my lifeless body. Leonore is here, and I am her protector and thy deadliest foe. 'Tis for thee to yield and leave this cell.
Rod. No more of this, – thou hast escaped me once. Draw and defend thyself, if thou hast courage to meet a brave man's sword!
Adrian. But for Leonore I would not stoop so low, or stain my sword; but for her sake I'll dare all, and fight thee to the last.
Rod. At length fate smiles upon me. I am the victor, – and now for Leonore! All danger is forgotten in the joy of winning my revenge on this proud girl! Thou art mine at last, Leonore, and mine forever! [Rushes towards the inner cave. Spirit of Theresa rises.] There 'tis again! I will not fly, – I do defy it! [Attempts to pass. Spirit touches him; he drops his sword and rushes wildly away.] 'Tis vain: I cannot – dare not pass. It comes, it follows me. Whither shall I fly?
Adrian. I have saved her once again, – but oh, this deathlike faintness stealing o'er me robs me of my strength. Thou art safe, Leonore, and I am content. [Falls fainting.]
Leonore. They are gone. Ah, what has chanced? I heard his voice, and now 'tis still as death. Where is my friend? God grant he be not hurt! I'll venture forth and seek him [sees Adrian unconscious before her]. Oh, what is this? Adrian, kind friend, dost thou not hear me? There is blood upon his hand! Can he be dead? No, no! he breathes, he moves; this mask, I will remove it, – surely he will forgive.
Adrian [reviving]. Nay, nay; it must not be. I am better now. The blow but stunned me, – it will pass away. And thou art safe?
Leonore. I feared not for myself, but thee. Come, rest thee here, thy wound is bleeding; let me bind it with my kerchief, and bring thee wine. Let me serve thee who hath done so much for me. Art better now! Can I do aught else for thee?
Adrian. No more, dear lady. Think not of me, and listen while I tell thee of the dangers that surround thee. Count Rodolpho knows thou art here, and may return with men and arms to force thee hence. My single arm could then avail not, though I would gladly die for thee. Where then can I lead thee, – no place can be too distant, no task too hard for him whose joy it is to serve thee.
Leonore. Alas! I know not. I dare not seek my home while Count Rodolpho is my foe; my servants would be bribed, – they would betray me, and thou wouldst not be there to save. Adrian, I have no friend but thee. Oh, pity and protect me!
Adrian. Most gladly will I, dearest lady. Thou canst never know the joy thy confidence hath wakened in my heart. I will save and guard thee with my life. I will guide thee to a peaceful home where no danger can approach, and only friends surround thee. Thy Louis dwelt there once, and safely mayst thou rest till danger shall be past. Will this please thee?
Leonore. Oh, Adrian, thou kind, true friend, how can I tell my gratitude, and where find truer rest than in his home, where gentle memories of him will lighten grief. Then take me there, and I will prove my gratitude by woman's fondest friendship, and my life-long trust.
Adrian. Thanks, dear lady. I need no other recompense than the joy 'tis in my power to give thee. I will watch faithfully above thee, and when thou needest me no more, I'll leave thee to the happiness thy gentle heart so well deserves. Now rest, while I seek out old Norna, and prepare all for our flight. The way we have to tread is long and weary. Rest thee, dear lady.
Leonore. Adieu, dear friend. I will await thee ready for our pilgrimage, and think not I shall fail or falter, though the path be long, and dangers gather round us. I shall not fear, for thou wilt be there. God bless thee, Adrian.
SCENE TWELFTH
The weary bird mid stormy skies,
Flies home to her quiet nest,
And 'mid the faithful ones she loves,
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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