[Exeunt.]

SCENE changes to the door of ELDRED’S cottage—­IDONEA seated—­enter
ELDRED.

ELDRED Your Father, Lady, from a wilful hand
              Has met unkindness; so indeed he told me,
              And you remember such was my report: 
              From what has just befallen me I have cause
              To fear the very worst.

IDONEA My Father is dead;
              Why dost thou come to me with words like these?

ELDRED A wicked Man should answer for his crimes.

IDONEA Thou seest me what I am.

ELDRED It was most heinous,
              And doth call out for vengeance.

IDONEA Do not add,
              I prith’ee, to the harm thou’st done already.

ELDRED Hereafter you will thank me for this service. 
              Hard by, a Man I met, who, from plain proofs
              Of interfering Heaven, I have no doubt,
              Laid hands upon your Father.  Fit it were
              You should prepare to meet him.

IDONEA I have nothing
              To do with others; help me to my Father—­
         [She turns and sees MARMADUKE leaning on ELEANOR—­throws herself
         upon his neck, and after some time,]
              In joy I met thee, but a few hours past;
              And thus we meet again; one human stay
              Is left me still in thee.  Nay, shake not so.

MARMADUKE In such a wilderness—­to see no thing,
              No, not the pitying moon!

IDONEA And perish so.

MARMADUKE Without a dog to moan for him.

IDONEA Think not of it,
              But enter there and see him how he sleeps,
              Tranquil as he had died in his own bed.

MARMADUKE Tranquil—­why not?

IDONEA Oh, peace!

MARMADUKE He is at peace;
              His body is at rest:  there was a plot,
              A hideous plot, against the soul of man: 
              It took effect—­and yet I baffled it,
              In some degree.

IDONEA Between us stood, I thought,
              A cup of consolation, filled from Heaven
              For both our needs; must I, and in thy presence,
              Alone partake of it?—­Beloved Marmaduke!

MARMADUKE Give me a reason why the wisest thing
              That the earth owns shall never choose to die,
              But some one must be near to count his groans. 
              The wounded deer retires to solitude,
              And dies in solitude:  all things but man,
              All die in solitude.
      [Moving towards the cottage door.]
                  Mysterious God,
              If she had never lived I had not done it!—­