_A bed-chamber in_ FERNANDO’S _house_.
RODERIGO _and_ CLARA _discovered_.
CLA. Though the black veil of night hath overclouded
The world in darkness, yet ere many hours
The sun will rise again, and then this act
Of my dishonour will appear before you
More black than is the canopy that shrouds it:
What are you, pray? what are you?
ROD. Husht—a friend, a friend.
CLA. A friend? be then a gentle ravisher,
An honourable villain: as you have
Disrob’d my youth of nature’s goodliest portion,
My virgin purity, so with your sword
Let out that blood which is infected now
By your soul-staining lust.
ROD. Pish!
CLA. Are you noble?
I know you then will marry me; say.
ROD. Umh.
CLA. Not speak to me? are wanton devils dumb?
How are so many harmless virgins wrought
By falsehood of prevailing words to yield
Too easy forfeits of their shames and liberty,
If every orator of folly plead
In silence, like this untongu’d piece of violence?
You shall not from me. [_Holding him._
ROD. Phew!—no more.
CLA. You shall not:
Whoe’er you are, disease of nature’s sloth,
Birth of some monstrous sin, or scourge of virtue,
Heaven’s wrath and mankind’s burden, I will hold you;
I will: be rough, and therein merciful,
I will not loose my hold else.
ROD. There; ’tis gold. [_Offers money._
CLA. Gold? why, alas, for what? the hire of pleasure
Perhaps is payment, mine is misery;
I need no wages for a ruin’d name,
More than a bleeding heart.
ROD. Nay, then, you’re troublesome;
I'll lock you safe enough.
[_Shakes her off, and exit._
CLA. They cannot fear
Whom grief hath arm’d with hate and scorn of life.
Revenge, I kneel to thee! alas, ’gainst whom?
By what name shall I pull confusion down
From justice on his head that hath betray’d me?
I know not where I am: up, I beseech thee,
Thou lady regent of the air, the moon,
And lead me by thy light to some brave vengeance!
It is a chamber sure; the guilty bed,
Sad evidence against my loss of honour,
Assures so much. What’s here, a window-curtain?
O heaven, the stars appear too! ha, a chamber,
A goodly one? dwells rape in such a paradise?
Help me, my quicken’d senses! ’tis a garden
To which this window guides the covetous prospect,
A large one and a fair one; in the midst
A curious alablaster[174] fountain stands,
Fram’d like—like what? no matter—swift, remembrance!
Rich furniture within too? and what’s this?
A precious crucifix! I have enough.
[_Takes the crucifix, and conceals it in her bosom._
Assist me, O you powers that guard the innocent!
_Re-enter_ RODERIGO.
ROD. Now.
CLA. Welcome, if you come armed in destruction:
I am prepar’d to die.
ROD. Tell me your name,
And what you are.
CLA. You urge me to a sin
As cruel as your lust; I dare not grant it.
Think on the violence of my defame;
And if you mean to write upon my grave
An epitaph of peace, forbear to question
Or whence or who I am. I know the heat
Of your desires is,[175] after the performance
Of such a hellish act, by this time drown’d
In cooler streams of penance;[176] and for my part,
I have wash’d off the leprosy that cleaves
To my just shame in true and honest tears;
I must not leave a mention of my wrongs,
The stain of my unspotted birth, to memory;
Let it lie buried with me in the dust;
That never time hereafter may report
How such a one as you have made me live.
Be resolute, and do not stagger; do not,
For I am nothing.
ROD. Sweet, let me enjoy thee
Now with a free allowance.
CLA. Ha, enjoy me?
Insufferable villain!
ROD. Peace, speak low;
I mean no second force; and since I find
Such goodness in an unknown frame of virtue,
Forgive my foul attempt, which I shall grieve for
So heartily, that could you be yourself
Eye-witness to my constant vow’d repentance,
Trust me, you’d pity me.
CLA. Sir, you can speak now.
ROD. So much I am the executioner
Of mine own trespass, that I have no heart
Nor reason to disclose my name or quality;
You must excuse me that; but, trust me, fair one,
Were this ill deed undone, this deed of wickedness,
I would be proud to court your love like him
Whom my first birth presented to the world.
This for your satisfaction: what remains,
That you can challenge as a service from me,
I both expect and beg it.
CLA. First, that you swear,
Neither in riot of your mirth, in passion
Of friendship, or in folly of discourse,
To speak of wrongs done to a ravish’d maid.
ROD. As I love truth, I swear!
CLA. Next, that you lead me
Near to the place you met me, and there leave me
To my last fortunes, ere the morning rise.
ROD. Say more.
CLA. Live[177] a new man, if e’er you marry—
O me, my heart’s a-breaking!—but if e’er
You marry, in a constant love to her
That shall be then your wife, redeem the fault
Of my undoing. I am lost for ever:
Pray, use no more words.
ROD. You must give me leave
To veil you close.
CLA. Do what you will; no time
Can ransom me from sorrows or dishonours.
[RODERIGO _throws a veil over her_.
Shall we now go?
ROD. My shame may live without me,
But in my soul I bear my guilt about me.
Lend me your hand; now follow. [_Exeunt._