Agnes. Oh, say
That he but lives, and I will worship you!
Julian. If he but lives! And have you then no fears?
In absence lovers vows are fragile things,
In India there are rich and lovely brides;—
He may not have your own fond constancy.
Agnes. I'll tell you what our love has been, and then
Ask you if I should doubt it:—Julian and I
Grew up together, and our love was hallowed
By our fond parents' blessing. I do count
Not on a lover's passionate vow at parting,
But on the gathered ties of many years:
Each tender and each honourable feeling
Will guard his heart. Oh, jealousy is but
A shadow cast from vanity, which lain
Would take the shape of love to hide its own
Selfish deformity!
Julian. Your confidence
Is most misplaced, for I was present when
Your Julian wedded.
Agnes. Gracious heaven, he lives!—
I never will be yours, then why traduce
The innocent—the absent. I confide
Securely in his faith.
Julian. I would have spared
This pang, but I must vindicate my truth;
He has sent back by me your farewell gifts—
Know you this silken curl—this emerald ring?
Agnes. It is my ring! The braid of hair I gave!—
All else but this, oh God! I could have borne.
Julian (discovering himself.)
Oh, my own Agnes, pardon me!—look up,
It is thy Julian calls! He has not swerved
Even in thought from thee—thou hast still been
His hope, his solace. Lie not thus, my Love,
Motionless on my bosom; but one look—
One word—to say you can forgive
A moment's doubt!
Agnes. Julian, I can die happy.
Julian. How pale she is! My life—my soul—revive!
Why did I try a faith I should have known
Spotless as the white dove. I cannot feel
The beating of her heart. I'll kiss the colour
Back to her cheek. Oh, God! her lip is ice—
There is no breath upon it!—
Agnes, thy Julian is thy murderer! L.E.L.
