The Dramatic Works of G. E. Lessing Part 29

SARA.

You love her, then, in spite of all?

MELLEFONT.

Too much, Sara, too much for me to deny it.

SARA.

Ah, Mellefont! How I too love you, for this very love's sake! You would have offended me deeply, if you had denied the sympathy of your blood for any scruples on my account. You have hurt me already in that you have threatened me never to let her come into my sight. No, Mellefont!

That you will never forsake Arabella must be one of the promises which you vow to me in presence of the Almighty! In the hands of her mother she is in danger of becoming unworthy of her father. Use your authority over both, and let me take the place of Marwood. Do not refuse me the happiness of bringing up for myself a friend who owes her life to you--a Mellefont of my own s.e.x. Happy days, when my father, when you, when Arabella will vie in your calls on my filial respect, my confiding love, my watchful friends.h.i.+p. Happy days! But, alas! They are still far distant in the future. And perhaps even the future knows nothing of them, perhaps they exist only in my own desire for happiness!

Sensations, Mellefont, sensations which I never before experienced, turn my eyes to another prospect. A dark prospect, with awful shadows!

What sensations are these? (_puts her hand before her face_.)

MELLEFONT.

What sudden change from exultation to terror! Hasten, Betty! Bring help! What ails you, generous Sara! Divine soul! Why does this jealous hand (_moving it away_) hide these sweet looks from me? Ah, they are looks which unwillingly betray cruel pain. And yet this hand is jealous to hide these looks from me. Shall I not share your pain with you?

Unhappy man, that I can only share it--that I may not feel it alone!

Hasten, Betty!

BETTY.

Whither shall I hasten?

MELLEFONT.

You see, and yet ask? For help!

SARA.

Stay. It pa.s.ses over. I will not frighten you again, Mellefont.

MELLEFONT.

What has happened to her, Betty? These are not merely the results of a swoon.

Scene V.

Norton, Mellefont, Sara, Betty.

MELLEFONT.

You are back again already, Norton? That is well! You will be of more use here.

NORTON.

Marwood is gone----

MELLEFONT.

And my curses follow her! She is gone? Whither? May misfortune and death, and, were it possible, a whole h.e.l.l lie in her path! May Heaven thunder a consuming fire upon her, may the earth burst open under her, and swallow the greatest of female monsters!

NORTON.

As soon as she returned to her lodgings, she threw herself into her carriage, together with Arabella and her maid, and hurried away, at full gallop. This sealed note was left behind for you.

MELLEFONT (_taking the note_).

It is addressed to me. Shall I read it, Sara?

SARA.

When you are calmer, Mellefont.

MELLEFONT.

Calmer? Can I be calmer, before I have revenged myself on her, and before I know that you are out of danger, dearest Sara?

SARA.

Let me not hear of revenge! Revenge is not ours.--But you open the letter? Alas, Mellefont! Why are we less p.r.o.ne to certain virtues with a healthy body, which feels its strength, than with a sick and wearied one? How hard are gentleness and moderation to you, and how unnatural to me appears the impatient heat of pa.s.sion! Keep the contents for yourself alone.

MELLEFONT.

What spirit is it that seems to compel me to disobey you? I opened it against my will, and against my will I must read it!

SARA (_whilst_ Mellefont _reads to himself_).

How cunningly man can disunite his nature, and make of his pa.s.sions another being than himself, on whom he can lay the blame for that which in cold blood he disapproves.--The water, Betty! I fear another shock, and shall need it. Do you see what effect the unlucky note has on him?

Mellefont! You lose your senses, Mellefont! G.o.d! he is stunned! Here, Betty. Hand him the water! He needs it more than I.

MELLEFONT (_pus.h.i.+ng_ Betty _back_).

Back, unhappy girl! Your medicines are poison!

SARA.

What do you say? Recover yourself! You do not recognise her.

BETTY.

I am Betty,--take it!

MELLEFONT.

Wish rather, unhappy girl, that you were not she! Quick! Fly, before in default of the guiltier one you become the guilty victim of my rage.

SARA.