Gray. No—no—yes—yes—but duty you know, Sir, (seeing Lucy still in Gwinett’s arms.) but if they stand leave-taking all day, I shall have no time to finish the work. (Officer motions Gwinett.)
Gwin. I attend you, Sir, farewell Lucy—heaven bless and protect you. (Rushes off followed by officers, &c. P. S.)
Lucy. Gone, to prison—death—no they cannot, dare not fulfil the dreadful sentence—he is innocent! innocent as the speechless babe—the whole town believes him guiltless—they will petition for him, and if there be mercy upon earth he must yet be saved—(seeing Grayling.)—Grayling! oh Grayling—your evidence has betrayed him—but for you he had escaped—whilst you spoke—whilst at every word you uttered my blood ran cold as ice, I prayed (heaven pardon me) prayed that you might be stricken dumb; but he, even he who stood pale and withered at the bar must have felt far above you as man above a worm.
Gray. I spoke the truth, the truth of facts.
Lucy. Yes, but urged with malice, wholly devilish—but oh Grayling—all shall be forgiven—all forgotten—strive but with me to awaken mercy in the hearts of his judges—strive but—ah no—I see in that stone-like eye and sullen lip, that the corse of Ambrose (his corse! my heart will burst) that to you his death knell would be music, for then you would no longer fear his marriage chimes.
Gray. I meddle not with the course of law, Lucy Fairlove.
Lucy. Hard-hearted man—but you carry with you your own torment, a blighted conscience—alas, why do I stand raving to this heartless being—the time wears on—to-morrow—oh! what a world of agony is in that word, let me still pronounce it, that I may ceaselessly labour in the cause of misery—but if relentless law demands its victim, the grave! the grave! be then my place of rest.
[Exit. R.
Gray. Oh Lucy!—what a wretch am I, to stand like a heartless monster unmoved by every touch of pity—it was not once so—once—but my nature’s changed, all feelings, save one, are withered; love has turned to hate, a deep and settled hate, I feel it craving for its prey! now to let it feed and triumph on my rival’s pains!
[Exit. R.