Page:The Mysterious Mother - Walpole (1781).djvu/29

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
A TRAGEDY.
21
To cheat th' uneasy feeling. Sable chambers,The winking lamp, and pomp of midnight woe,Are but a specious theatre, on whichTh' inconstant mind with decency forgetsIts inward tribute. Who can doubt the loveWhich to a father's shade devotes the son?[Ironically.

EDMUND.Still must I doubt: still deem some mystery,Beyond a widow's pious artifice,Lies hid beneath aversion so relentless.All my inheritance, my lordships, castles,My father's lavish love bequeath'd my mother.Chose she some second partner of her bed,Or did she waste her wealth on begging saints,And rogues that act contrition, it were proofOf her hypocrisy, or lust of fameIn monkish annals. But to me her handIs bounteous, as her heart is cold. I tell thee,Bating enjoyment of my native soil,Narbonne's revenues are as fully mine,As if I held them by the strength of charters.
FLORIAN.Why set them on the hazard then, when she,Who deals them may revoke? Your absence henceThe sole condition.
EDMUND.The sole condition.I am weary, Florian,Of such a vagrant life. Befits it me,Sprung from a race of heroes, Narbonne's prince,To lend my casual arm's approved valourTo quarrels, nor my country's nor my own?To stain my sword with random blood !—I foughtAt Buda 'gainst the Turk—a holy war,

So

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.