SCENE I.

Clergyman . He stirs as he would wake.
Friend . List! list! he speaks!
Clergyman . A smile is on his face — a kindling smile.
Friend . Oh! when he wakes!
Clergyman . Hearken — he speaks again.
Prisoner , ( in his sleep .) O, my sweet Alice! 'Twas a dreadful dream!
Am I in truth awake? Come to my heart!
There — there — I feel thy breath — pure — pure — most pure.
Friend . What a deep sigh of overwhelming bliss!
Hell gapes for him when he awakes from heaven.
Clergyman . Will not the same benignant Providence
That blesseth now his sleep, uphold him falling
Into the shadow of death!
Prisoner . No tears, my Alice!
Weep — weep no more! Where is our infant, Alice?
Esther, where art thou? Mary? My sweet twins!
— I dreamt that I had bid thee farewell, Alice!
Why is that loving voice so slow to speak?
Hold me to thy bosom lest the curse return!
Why beats thy heart so......
Friend . Lo! his glazed eyes
Are open — but methinks he sees us not.
Prisoner , ( starting up .) My family are swept off from the earth.
— I know not, in the darkness of my brain,
My dreams from waking thoughts, nor these from dreams.
— Yes! yes! at once 'tis plain. O heaven of heavens!
Thou canst not be in all thy sanctity
A place so full of perfect blessedness,
As the bed where I was lying in my dream.
Clergyman . We have been praying for thee all the night.
Prisoner . What! my dear friends! good morning to you both.
Have I been sleeping long?
Clergyman . Since four o'clock,
And now 'tis almost eight.
Prisoner . Blest was that sleep
Beyond all human bliss! I was at home,
And Alice in my bosom......Come, my Friend,
You must not thus be overcome, this hour
Too awful is for tears. Look not on me
As on a son of anguish and despair,
But a Man, sorely stricken though he be,
Supported by the very power of Sorrow,
And Faith that comes a solemn comforter
Even hand in hand with Death.
Clergyman . Most noble spirit!
Fitter art thou with that untroubled voice
To comfort us than to be comforted.
Prisoner . This cell hath taught me many a hidden thing.
I have become acquainted with my soul
Through midnight silence, and through lonely days
Silent as midnight. I have found therein
A well of waters undisturb'd and deep,
Of sustenance, refreshment, and repose.
Clergyman . On earth nought may prevail o'er innocence.
Prisoner . One night, methought, a voice said in my cell,
" Despondency, and Anguish, and Despair,
Are falling on thee! curse thy God and die! " —
" Peace, Resignation, and Immortal Hope, "
A dewy voice replied. It was a dream.
But the good angel's voice was in my soul,
Most sweet when I awoke, and from that hour,
A heavenly calm hath never left my cell.
Friend . O must we part for ever from our Friend!
Is there no hope? The hour of agony
Is hastening on, and there is none to save!
Clergyman . Forgive his grief. 'Tis easier to resign
Ourselves unto our fate, than to endure
The sight of one we love about to die.
Prisoner . A little brook doth issue from the hill
Above Lea-side, and, ere it reaches us,
Its course is loud and rocky, crying still
As with a troubled voice. But o'er the green
That smiles beside our door it glideth on,
Just like a dream so soft and silently,
For ever cheerful and for ever calm.
Last night when you came here — I had been thinking
Of that sweet brook, and it appear'd to me
An emblem of my own much alter'd soul,
Lately so troubled, but now flowing on
In perfect calmness to eternity.
Friend . Thinking of Lea-side even unto the last.
Prisoner . Yes! I will think of it unto the last,
Of heaven and it by turns. There is no reason
Why it should be forgotten while I live.
I see it, like a picture on that wall,
In the silence of the morning, with its smoke,
Its new-waked smoke slow wreathing up to heaven!
And from that heaven, where through my Saviour's death
I humbly hope to be, I will look down
On that one spot — Oh! sure the loveliest far
On the wide earth! too sweet! too beautiful!
Too blest to leave without a gush of tears.
— They will drive me past my own door to the scaffold?
Friend . Such is the savage sentence.
Prisoner . It is well.
Friend . We never will forsake you to the last —
But proudly sit beside you......
Prisoner . Sweet Lea-side!
And I will see my little farm again!
New-thatch'd with my own hand this very Spring —
All full of blossoms is my garden now,
And the sweet hum of bees! — Hush'd be the wheels
As o'er a depth of snow, when they pass by!
That Alice may not hear the fearful sound,
And rush out with my children in her arms.
Clergyman . Fear not — she hath gone into her father's house.
Prisoner . I thought our parting had been past. But no!
Souls cannot part though parting words be breathed,
With deep abandonment of earthly loves.
Had I not dreamt that heavenly dream last night
Perhaps it had been so — but in that dream
My human nature burst again to life,
And I think upon my widow as before,
With love, grief, shame, dismay, and agony.
Clergyman . I am the father, says our gracious God,
Of the orphan and the widow.
Prisoner . 'Twas a pang!
A passing pang! ( going to the window .) It is a sunny day.
Methinks if I had any tears to shed,
That I could weep to see the fading world
So beautiful! How brightly wilt thou smile,
O Sun, to-morrow, when my eyes are dark!
O 'tis a blessed earth I leave behind!
Friend . It is not yet the time!
Jailor enters . In half an hour
They will come to fetch the prisoner from his cell.
Friend . O scowling savage! What a heart of stone!
Prisoner . I think he is less cruel than he seems.
Sometimes his face hath worn a look of pity,
And his voice soften'd; but his heart is blind
In ignorance, and harden'd by the sight
Of unrepentant wickedness, and sorrows
Which human sympathy would fail to cure.
He seem'd disturb'd — he feels all he can feel.
Clergyman . Thou art indeed a Christian.
Prisoner . Death is near.
You know my heart, and will reveal it truly
To all who know my tale. The time will come
When innocence will vindicate itself,
And shame fall off my rising family
Like snow shaken from the budding trees in spring.
— They doubt not of their father's innocence?
Clergyman . Unshaken is the confidence of love
In hearts that know not sin — thy memory,
Hallow'd by tribulation, will endure...
Prisoner . Enough — enough. Here take this blessed book,
Which from my dying father I received,
And give it to my wife. Some farewell thoughts
I have dared to write beneath my children's names,
Recorded duly there soon as baptized.
And now I have no more to say to man.
Leave me alone a little while — and wait
In the open street, till I appear before you.
Friend . We fear to leave the cell — you look so pale!
As if about to faint.
Prisoner , ( holding out his hand with a smile .) My pulse is steady.
Clergyman . We leave thee to thy God!