[ACT V.]
Matilda, Theodore.
Mat. I'll not refuse my uncle's courtesy,
But go and see his house. I should before
Have done that duty to him, but I thought
My visits were not welcome, since he liv'd
So close and privately.
Theo. Sweet cousin, you'll find
A happy alteration in my father,
And that there dwells a kind and honest soul
Within his breast. Though wretched avarice,
The usual fault of age, has heretofore
Too much kept back the good expressions
Of such-like thoughts, he now will make amends
To all the world; and has begun already
With his poor neighbours.
Mat. Cousin, I shall be
Too bad a guest at this sad time, and bring
Nothing but sorrow to my uncle's house.
Theo. You'll be yourself a welcome guest to him;
And I shall think our roof exceeding happy,
If it may mitigate that killing grief,
Which your so solitary life too much
Has nourish'd in you. Cousin, feed it not:
'Tis a disease that will in time consume you.
I have already given the best advice,
That my poor knowledge will afford, to ease
Your troubled thoughts. If time, which Heaven allows
To cure all griefs, should not have power to do it:
If death of father, mother, husband, wife,
Should be lamented still, the world would wear
Nothing but black: sorrow alone would reign
In every family that lives, and bring
Upon poor mortals a perpetual night.
You must forget it, cousin.
Mat. Never can I
Forget my love to him.
Theo. Nor do I strive
To teach you to forget that love you bear
To his dear memory; but that grief which lies
Wrapp'd in amongst it, and turns all to poison,
Making it mortal to that soul that tastes it—
'Tis that, sweet cousin, which I hope that time
May by degrees extinguish. Will you please
To walk along? My father long ere this
Expects us, I am sure, and longs to see you. [Exeunt.
Eugeny in the Officers' hands.