ACT IV.--SCENE I.

A DUNGEON.

RAVENSBY. ‘Th’ intensity of grief destroys itself. The torturer beholds his Victim stretched Unconscious, pain itself o’ercome by pain. Fate dooms me now to death; last punishment Which mortal can inflict,--and yet I feel There’s mercy in the doom. Thus to live on Were lingering martyrdom; it were to die By inches, drain my heart’s blood drop by drop. One flash ends all! O Clara, when my soul Hath ceased to suffer, can it cease to love? Methinks, when quitting Earth, ’twill still retain Her image, who was more than Earth to me! It is a portion of my being, twined With every thought and feeling; thou wilt weep, My Clara; thou canst not believe him false To faith and friends, who is so true to thee. Gazing into the uncorrupted depths Of thy pure feelings, thou wilt judge of mine. When all denounced me, thou wert still my friend When all forget, thou wilt remember still!

_Enter AGNES._

AGNES, _aside_. I ne’er have feared the eye of mortal man, Why should I shrink from his?

RAV. Who comes to break The prisoner’s solitude?

AGN. One who would be The prisoner’s friend.

RAV. I have no friend--save one.

AGN. Can he speak thus who hath so long espoused The Royal cause, and served that cause so well? Who, girt with honours, well deserved, hath stood One in a noble Brotherhood of Fame! Where are the Cavaliers who fought with thee In battle, side by side, who with thee shared The feast, and drained the wine-cup to your King? Where are they now? what, gone? not one remains, T’assert thy innocence, or shield thee from An ignominious death. Friends! out upon them! They mock the name; it were not thus, if thou Hadst drawn thy gallant sword with those who wear No chains but those of Virtue, those who own No earthly Monarch, and uphold no power But that of Liberty; whose friendship lasts Not only when the red wine sparkles high, And revelry and song profane the night; If such had been thy comrades and thy friends, Thou hadst not been forsaken thus.

RAV. No more!

AGN. The gate thou hast defended with thy blood, To-morrow casts thee forth, led out to die; And the proud towers coldly will look down Upon the closing scene; for hearts more hard And more impregnable decree thy doom. Thou diest a traitor’s death;--but wert thou _ours_, Then ev’ry bush around the fatal spot Should hold an armed defender, ev’ry knoll Conceal an ambushed friend, and at a word A wall of steel should bristle round thy breast; Then swords should clash with swords, and they who came To shed thy blood lie weltering in their own. If thou wert ours--and yet thou mayst be ours,----

RAV. Cease, for I know thee, Temptress; words like these Betray the fair false lips from which they flow. Thou’rt Agnes, own it,--Gasper Tarlton’s love.

AGN. Agnes I am, not Gasper Tarlton’s love. The thistledown that floats upon the breeze, The thorny weed which from my path I spurn, The insect which I crush beneath my tread, Are not to me more insignificant, More worthless--than the Slave whom thou hast named.

RAV. Thank Heaven! then my last doubt melts away; He yet is true, yet faithful to his King; My sacrifice will not be made for nought. Maid, he is honoured in thy hate!

AGN. And thou----

RAV. Leave me.

AGN. To perish!

RAV. Thou canst not defend.

AGN. I could,--yes, I could arm in thy behalf A thousand gallant hands, might I but say, ‘The injured will on the oppressor turn, Unite the love of freedom with revenge, A thousand-fold repay the debt he owes To your brave confidence; in Ravensby Ye will destroy a foe and win a friend!’ Could I speak thus----

RAV. Thy sex protects thee, Maid, Or thou shouldst learn the meed of treason. Hence!

AGN. From other lips such words I had not borne. Why should I thus urge life upon thee,--why Seek to preserve thee in thine own despite? O thou art worthy of a nobler cause; I see in thee one who can nobly dare, Firmly resolve, and boldly execute;-- And what a bright career before thee lies----

RAV. A brief one,--from the dungeon to the tomb.

AGN. To die a Traitor in the eyes of men.

RAV. Better than live a villain in my own. Depart, and leave me to my fate. Away!

AGN. O brave and glorious! I will tempt no more. My pride is humbled. I have found a soul That soars beyond mine own. I would not rob Thy pinion of one plume. I watch thy flight With kindling emulation. O for power To follow it, that I above this sphere Might rise; companion, not unworthy thee!

RAV. A step approaches.

AGN. None must see me here. [_Retires into shade._]

Agnes in the end confesses herself guilty of the crime for which he is condemned to death;--in time to save his name from lasting disgrace, though not in time to save his life.

_Who Was The Witch?_ though in parts amusing enough, is hardly so good as the others. Modern English puns sit oddly upon a background of pre-mediæval Saxon history. _Grimhaggard Hall_ is perhaps one of A. L. O. E.’s most comic and laughable _jeux-d’esprit_, over which one can picture the family as enjoying many a hearty laugh. The perpetual play upon words, and the almost rollicking fun and nonsense of the whole, remind one of her earlier effort, _The Pretender_, already given at length; though the later-written farce is in some respects scarcely equal to the girlish achievement. Both these plays illustrate well the frisky and frolicsome side of a character which was in some respects not only intensely serious, but absolutely stern. Charlotte Tucker’s was truly a many-sided nature.

Whether at this time she had already begun to write anything in the shape of children’s story-books does not appear. It is by no means unlikely, since the date of her first appearance in print was now fast drawing near.

The chief characters in _Grimhaggard Hall_ are--Mr. Cramp; Mr. Scull, an artist; Mr. Wriggle, a tutor; Miss Cob; and Nellie, daughter of Mr. Cramp.