On this green bank.


[He sits down.]


HERBERT (after some time)
Idonea, you are silent,
And I divine the cause.


IDONEA Do not reproach me:
I pondered patiently your wish and will
When I gave way to your request; and now,
When I behold the ruins of that face,
Those eyeballs dark--dark beyond hope of light,
And think that they were blasted for my sake,
The name of Marmaduke is blown away:
Father, I would not change that sacred feeling
For all this world can give.


HERBERT Nay, be composed:
Few minutes gone a faintness overspread
My frame, and I bethought me of two things
I ne'er had heart to separate--my grave,
And thee, my Child!


IDONEA Believe me, honoured Sire!