EDITH. Alas! I half foreboded this, and yet
Would listen not to fear. But, Hubert, I—
If there be sin in that most doubtful deed—
I have not shared the sin.
CECIL. No, Edith, no!
But the sin severs us! Will Cromwell give
The hand of Edith to his foe?
EDITH. His foe!
What madness, Hubert! In the gloomy past
Bury the wrong thy wrath cannot undo;
Think but in what the future can repair it.
CECIL. I do so, Edith; and, upon that thought,
I built the wall 'twixt Cromwell and my soul.
The king is dead—but not the race of kings;
There is a second Charles! Oh, Edith, yet—
Yet may our fates be joined! Beyond the seas
Lives my lost honor—lie my only means
To prove me guiltless of this last bad deed!
Beyond the seas, oh, let our vows be plighted!
Fly with thy Cecil!—quit these gloomy walls,
These whited sepulchres, these hangman saints!
Beyond the seas, oh! let me find my bride,
Regain my honor, and record my love!
EDITH. Alas! thou know'st not what thou say'st. The land
Is lined with Cromwell's favorers. Not a step
But his eye reads the whereabout. From hence
Thou couldst not 'scape with life, nor I with honor!
CECIL. Ah, Edith, rob not Heaven of every star!
From home, and England, and ambition banished—
Banish me not from thee!
EDITH. What shall I say?
How act—where turn? Thy lightest word hath been
My law—my code of right; and now thou askest
That which can never be.
CECIL. Recall the word!
There's but one ‘never’ for the tongue of Love,
And that should be for parting—never part.
Oh, learn no other ‘never.’
EDITH. Must thou leave me?
Must thou leave England—thy old friends in arms—
The cause of Freedom—thy brave spirit's hope?
Must thou leave these? Is there no softer choice?
CECIL. None other—none!