Northlake.
I’ll do as thou desirest.
Catharine.
Thou art a gallant gentleman. I’ll swift
Unveil to thee a heart that’s worthier
Than is the poor masked face thou pray’st to see.
Oh, how can I portray to thee my joy
When I was wife and mother! Think of it,—
For I am sure thou art a good, true man,
And gallant gentleman.—In my full flush
Of joy I was estranged from my dear husband,
Whom I did love so well I would have pledged
My soul upon his honor. Then I was wild
With sudden doubt and frenzied jealousy.
His goodness seemed but evil,—as by the quick
Hot-bolted lightning blasted, or as poison
Transforms the fairest ornaments. In this
Mad frenzy, at this same hour of midnight,
I fled from him. Since then I’ve been a restless
Wanderer on the earth. But, oh! on me
The blame harder doth rest than it doth rest—
On thee!
Northlake.
On me? Why, who art thou?
Catharine [unmasking].
Thy lady Catharine.—Thou gallant gentleman,
I may again return to thee. Good-night!
[Exit Catharine.