And take my answer not in words, but reading
Himself the heart I had to read him late,

Which death

Tresh.

...

Death? You are dying too? Well said

Of Guendolen! I dared not hope you'd die :
But she was sure of it.

Mil.

Ah, Thorold! Was 't not rashly done
To quench that blood, on fire with youth and hope
And love of me whom you loved too, and yet
Suffered to sit here waiting his approach
While you were slaying him? Oh, doubtlessly
You let him speak his poor confused boy's-speech
Do his poor utmost to disarm your wrath
And respite me! - you let him try to give
The story of our love and ignorance,
And the brief madness and the long despair
You let him plead all this, because your code
Of honor bids you hear before you strike:
But at the end, as he looked up for life
Into your eyes
you struck him down!

Tresh.

No! No!
Had I but heard him — had I let him speak
Half the truth-less-had I looked long on him
I had desisted! Why, as he lay there,
The moon on his flushed cheek, I gathered all
The story ere he told it: I saw through
The troubled surface of his crime and yours
A depth of purity immovable;

Had I but glanced, where all seemed turbidest
Had gleamed some inlet to the calm beneath;
I would not glance: my punishment 's at hand.
There, Mildred, is the truth! and you-
You curse me?

Mil.

say on

As I dare approach that Heaven
Which has not bade a living thing despair,
Which needs no code to keep its grace from stain,
But bids the vilest worm that turns on it
Desist and be forgiven, I forgive not,
But bless you, Thorold, from my soul of souls!

There! Do not think too much upon the past!
The cloud that's broke was all the same a cloud

[Falls on his neck.

While it stood up between my friend and you;
You hurt him 'neath its shadow: but is that
So past retrieve? I have his heart, you know;
I may dispose of it: I give it you!

It loves you as mine loves! Confirm me, Henry!
Tresh. I wish thee joy, Beloved! I am glad
In thy full gladness!

Guen. [without.] Mildred! Tresham!
[Entering with AUSTIN.]

I could desist no longer. Ah, she swoons!
That's well.

Thorold,

[Dies

About my neck, and blessed me, and then died :
You'll let them stay now, Guendolen !

Aus.

Leave her

And look to him! What ails you, Thorold?
Guen.

White

As she, and whiter! Austin! quick — this side!

Aus. A froth is oozing through his clenched teeth; Both lips, where they 're not bitten through, are black: Speak, dearest Thorold!

Tresh.

Something does weigh down

My neck beside her weight: thanks: I should fall
But for you, Austin, I believe!

there, there, 'T will pass away soon! -ah, I had forgotten: I am dying. Guen.

Thorold-Thorold ·

why was this?
Tresh. I said, just as I drank the poison off,
The earth would be no longer earth to me,
The life out of all life was gone from me.
There are blind ways provided, the foredone
Heart-weary player in this pageant-world
Drops out by, letting the main masque defile
By the conspicuous portal: I am through-
Just through!

Guen.
Don't leave him, Austin! Death is close.
Tresh. Already Mildred's face is peacefuller.
I see you, Austin
feel you here's my hand,

Put yours in it—you, Guendolen, yours too!

You're lord and lady now you 're Treshams; name
And fame are yours: you hold our 'scutcheon up.

Austin, no blot on it! You see how blood

Must wash one blot away: the first blot came

And the first blood came. To the vain world's eye
All's gules again: no care to the vain world,
From whence the red was drawn!

Aus.

No blot shall come!

Tresh. I said that: yet it did come. Should it come, Vengeance is God's, not man's. Remember me!

[Dies.

Guen. [letting fall the pulseless arm.] Ah, Thorold, we can

but remember you!

COLOMBE'S BIRTHDAY

A PLAY

"Ivy and violet, what do ye here

With blossom and shoot in the warm spring-weather,
Hiding the arms of Monchenci and Vere?"

HANMER.

NO ONE LOVES AND HONORS BARRY CORNWALL MORE THAN DOES

ROBERT BROWNING;

WHO, HAVING NOTHING BETTER THAN THIS PLAY TO GIVE
HIM IN PROOF OF IT, MUST SAY SO.

LONDON, 1844.

PERSONS.

COLOMBE OF RAVESTEIN, Duchess of Juliers and Cleves.

SABYNE, ADOLF, her Attendants.

GUIBERT, GAUCELME, MAUFROY, CLUGNET, Courtiers.
VALENCE, Advocate of Cleves.

PRINCE BERTHOLD, Claimant of the Duchy.

MELCHIOR, his Confidant.

PLACE, The Palace at Juliers.

TIME, 16—.

ACT I.

Morning. SCENE. A corridor leading to the Audience-chamber. GAUCELME, CLUGNET, MAUFROY and other Courtiers, round GUIBERT who is silently reading a paper: as he drops it at the end —

Gui. That this should be her birthday; and the day We all invested her, twelve months ago,

As the late Duke's true heiress and our liege;

And that this also must become the day

Oh, miserable lady!

3d Court.

But your news, my friend, your news!

The sooner, friend, one learns Prince Berthold's pleasure,

The better for us all:
Give me! I'll read it
Gui. In time, sir,

how writes the Prince?

for the common good.

but till time comes, pardon me!