(_Leslie, Elliston, and others enter_.)
_Leslie_. Oh God, was there none other? My lovely cousin, and--were
_you_ the victim? In your bridal glory chosen,--nay, with your heart's
holiest law lured to the bloody altar! Yet this day's history, and
something in that calm, high mien, tells me, as freely you had moved
unto it, though God had spoken by a higher voice, and with a martyr's
garland beckoned you.
_Elliston_. Our cause is linked unto that ancient one, the cause of Love
and Truth; in which Heaven moves with unrelenting hand, not sparing its
own loveliest ones, but unto bloody death freely delivering them.
(_Grey and Leslie converse apart_.)
_Leslie_. Yes--we will bury her here. 'Tis a fitting spot; and unto
distant days, this lonely grave, with its ever-verdant canopy, shall be
even as Love's Shrine. Thither, in the calm and smiling summers of those
bloodless times shall many a fair young pilgrim come, to wonder at such
love; and living eyes shall weep, and living hearts shall heave over its
cruel fate, when unto her the long-told tale, and all the anguish of
this far-off day, shall be even as the dim passage of some troubled
dream.
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