Chapter 143

_A cavern, dark, except where a gleam of moonlight is seen on one side at the further end of it; supposed to be cast on it from a crevice in a part of the cavern out of sight. ISIDORE alone, an extinguished torch in his hand._

_Isidore._ Faith 'twas a moving letter--very moving! 'His life in danger, no place safe but this! 'Twas his turn now to talk of gratitude.' And yet--but no! there can't be such a villain. It can not be! Thanks to that little crevice, 5 Which lets the moonlight in! I'll go and sit by it. To peep at a tree, or see a he-goat's beard, Or hear a cow or two breathe loud in their sleep-- Any thing but this crash of water drops! These dull abortive sounds that fret the silence 10 With puny thwartings and mock opposition! So beats the death-watch to a sick man's ear.

[_He goes out of sight, opposite to the patch of moonlight: and returns._

A hellish pit! The very same I dreamt of! I was just in--and those damn'd fingers of ice Which clutch'd my hair up! Ha!--what's that--it mov'd. 15

[_ISIDORE stands staring at another recess in the cavern. In the mean time ORDONIO enters with a torch, and halloes to ISIDORE._

_Isidore._ I swear that I saw something moving there! The moonshine came and went like a flash of lightning---- I swear, I saw it move.

_Ordonio (goes into the recess, then returns)._ A jutting clay stone Drops on the long lank weed, that grows beneath: And the weed nods and drips.[859:1]

_Isidore._ A jest to laugh at! 20 It was not that which scar'd me, good my lord.

_Ordonio._ What scar'd you, then?

_Isidore._ You see that little rift? But first permit me!

[_Lights his torch at ORDONIO'S, and while lighting it._

(A lighted torch in the hand Is no unpleasant object here--one's breath Floats round the flame, and makes as many colours 25 As the thin clouds that travel near the moon.) You see that crevice there? My torch extinguished by these water-drops, And marking that the moonlight came from thence, I stept in to it, meaning to sit there; 30 But scarcely had I measured twenty paces-- My body bending forward, yea, o'erbalanced Almost beyond recoil, on the dim brink Of a huge chasm I stept. The shadowy moonshine Filling the void so counterfeited substance, 35 That my foot hung aslant adown the edge. Was it my own fear? Fear too hath its instincts![860:1] (And yet such dens as these are wildly told of, And there are beings that live, yet not for the eye) An arm of frost above and from behind me 40 Pluck'd up and snatched me backward. Merciful Heaven! You smile! alas, even smiles look ghastly here! My lord, I pray you, go yourself and view it.

_Ordonio._ It must have shot some pleasant feelings through you.

_Isidore._ If every atom of a dead man's flesh 45 Should creep, each one with a particular life, Yet all as cold as ever--'twas just so! Or had it drizzled needle-points of frost Upon a feverish head made suddenly bald--

_Ordonio._ Why, Isidore, I blush for thy cowardice. It might have startled, 50 I grant you, even a brave man for a moment-- But such a panic--

_Isidore._ When a boy, my lord! I could have sate whole hours beside that chasm, Push'd in huge stones and heard them strike and rattle Against its horrid sides: then hung my head 55 Low down, and listened till the heavy fragments Sank with faint crash in that still groaning well, Which never thirsty pilgrim blest, which never A living thing came near--unless, perchance, Some blind-worm battens on the ropy mould 60 Close at its edge.

_Ordonio._ Art thou more coward now?

_Isidore._ Call him, that fears his fellow-man, a coward! I fear not man--but this inhuman cavern, It were too bad a prison-house for goblins. Beside, (you'll smile, my lord) but true it is, 65 My last night's sleep was very sorely haunted By what had passed between us in the morning. O sleep of horrors! Now run down and stared at By forms so hideous that they mock remembrance-- Now seeing nothing and imagining nothing, 70 But only being afraid--stifled with fear! While every goodly or familiar form Had a strange power of breathing terror round me![861:1] I saw you in a thousand fearful shapes; And, I entreat your lordship to believe me, 75 In my last dream----

_Ordonio._ Well?

_Isidore._ I was in the act Of falling down that chasm, when Alhadra Wak'd me: she heard my heart beat.

_Ordonio._ Strange enough! Had you been here before?

_Isidore._ Never, my lord! But mine eyes do not see it now more clearly, 80 Than in my dream I saw--that very chasm.

_Ordonio (after a pause)._ I know not why it should be! yet it is--

_Isidore._ What is, my lord?

_Ordonio._ Abhorrent from our nature To kill a man.--

_Isidore._ Except in self-defence.

_Ordonio._ Why that's my case; and yet the soul recoils from it-- 85 'Tis so with me at least. But you, perhaps, Have sterner feelings?

_Isidore._ Something troubles you. How shall I serve you? By the life you gave me, By all that makes that life of value to me, My wife, my babes, my honour, I swear to you, 90 Name it, and I will toil to do the thing, If it be innocent! But this, my lord! Is not a place where you could perpetrate, No, nor propose a wicked thing. The darkness, When ten strides off we know 'tis cheerful moonlight, 95 Collects the guilt, and crowds it round the heart. It must be innocent.

_Ordonio._ Thyself be judge. One of our family knew this place well.

_Isidore._ Who? when? my lord?

_Ordonio._ What boots it, who or when? Hang up thy torch--I'll tell his tale to thee. 100

[_They hang up their torches on some ridge in the cavern._

He was a man different from other men, And he despised them, yet revered himself.

_Isidore (aside)._ He? He despised? Thou'rt speaking of thyself! I am on my guard, however: no surprise. [_Then to ORDONIO._ What, he was mad?

_Ordonio._ All men seemed mad to him! 105 Nature had made him for some other planet, And pressed his soul into a human shape By accident or malice. In this world He found no fit companion.

_Isidore._ Of himself he speaks. [_Aside._ Alas! poor wretch! 110 Mad men are mostly proud.

_Ordonio._ He walked alone, And phantom thoughts unsought-for troubled him. Something within would still be shadowing out All possibilities; and with these shadows His mind held dalliance. Once, as so it happened, 115 A fancy crossed him wilder than the rest: To this in moody murmur and low voice He yielded utterance, as some talk in sleep: The man who heard him.-- Why did'st thou look round?

_Isidore._ I have a prattler three years old, my lord! 120 In truth he is my darling. As I went From forth my door, he made a moan in sleep-- But I am talking idly--pray proceed! And what did this man?

_Ordonio._ With this human hand He gave a substance and reality 125 To that wild fancy of a possible thing.-- Well it was done! Why babblest thou of guilt? The deed was done, and it passed fairly off. And he whose tale I tell thee--dost thou listen?

_Isidore._ I would, my lord, you were by my fire-side, 130 I'd listen to you with an eager eye, Though you began this cloudy tale at midnight, But I do listen--pray proceed, my lord.

_Ordonio._ Where was I?

_Isidore._ He of whom you tell the tale--

_Ordonio._ Surveying all things with a quiet scorn, 135 Tamed himself down to living purposes, The occupations and the semblances Of ordinary men--and such he seemed! But that same over ready agent--he--

_Isidore._ Ah! what of him, my lord?

_Ordonio._ He proved a traitor, 140 Betrayed the mystery to a brother-traitor, And they between them hatch'd a damnéd plot To hunt him down to infamy and death. What did the Valdez? I am proud of the name Since he dared do it.--

[_ORDONIO grasps his sword, and turns off from ISIDORE, then after a pause returns._

Our links burn dimly. 145

_Isidore._ A dark tale darkly finished! Nay, my lord! Tell what he did.

_Ordonio._ That which his wisdom prompted-- He made the traitor meet him in this cavern, And here he kill'd the traitor.

_Isidore._ No! the fool! 150 He had not wit enough to be a traitor. Poor thick-eyed beetle! not to have foreseen That he who gulled thee with a whimpered lie To murder his own brother, would not scruple To murder thee, if e'er his guilt grew jealous, 155 And he could steal upon thee in the dark!

_Ordonio._ Thou would'st not then have come, if--

_Isidore._ Oh yes, my lord! I would have met him arm'd, and scar'd the coward.

[_ISIDORE throws off his robe; shews himself armed, and draws his sword._

_Ordonio._ Now this is excellent and warms the blood! 160 My heart was drawing back, drawing me back With weak and womanish scruples. Now my vengeance Beckons me onwards with a warrior's mien, And claims that life, my pity robb'd her of-- Now will I kill thee, thankless slave, and count it 165 Among my comfortable thoughts hereafter.

_Isidore._ And all my little ones fatherless-- Die thou first.

[_They fight, ORDONIO disarms ISIDORE, and in disarming him throws his sword up that recess opposite to which they were standing. ISIDORE hurries into the recess with his torch, ORDONIO follows him; a loud cry of 'Traitor! Monster!' is heard from the cavern, and in a moment ORDONIO returns alone._

_Ordonio._ I have hurl'd him down the chasm! treason for treason. He dreamt of it: henceforward let him sleep, A dreamless sleep, from which no wife can wake him. 170 His dream too is made out--Now for his friend.

[_Exit ORDONIO._

FOOTNOTES:

[859:1] 18-20. Compare _This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison_, ll. 17-20, p. 179. See note by J. D. Campbell, _P. W._, 1893, p. 651.

[860:1] 38-9. These two lines uttered in an under-voice, and timidly, as anticipating Ordonio's sneer, and yet not able to disguise his own superstition. (_Marginal Note to First Edition._)

What trouble had I not, and at last almost fruitless, to teach De Camp the hurried under-voice with which Isidore should utter these two lines, as anticipating Ordonio's scorn, and yet unable to suppress his own superstition--and yet De Camp, spite of voice, person, and inappropriate protrusion of the chest, understood and realised his part better than all the rest--to the man of sense, I mean. _MS. H_.

[861:1] 72-3. In the _Biographia Literaria_, 1817, ii. 73 Coleridge puts these lines into another shape:--

The simplest and the most familiar things Gain a strange power of spreading awe around them.

See note by J. D. Campbell, _P. W._, 1893, p. 651.

LINENOTES:

[After 12] [_He goes . . . moonlight: returns after a minute's elapse, in an extasy of fear._ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[13] pit] _pit_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[18] _Ordonio (goes . . . returns, and with great scorn)._ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[20] _Isidore (forcing a laugh faintly.)_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[47] ever] eve Edition 1.

[49] _Ordonio (interrupting him)._ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[51] brave] _brave_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[60] battens] fattens Edition 1.

[68-73] om. Edition 1.

[71] afraid] _afraid_ Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[82] _Ordonio (stands lost in thought, then after a pause)._ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829. is] _is_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[97]

It must be innocent. [_ORDONIO darkly, and in the feeling of self-justification, tells what he conceives of his own character and actions, speaking of himself in the third person._

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[103] He? He] He? _He_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[124] this] _his_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[127]

Well it was done! [_Then very wildly._

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[140] him . . . He] _him . . . He_, Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[155] thee] _thee_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 167] [_They fight . . . standing._ (The rest of the stage-direction is here omitted.)

_Isid. (springing wildly towards Ordonio)._ Still I can strangle thee!

_Ord._ Nay fool, stand off! I'll kill thee, but not so. Go fetch thy sword.

[_ISIDORE hurries into the recess with his torch, ORDONIO follows him . . . returns alone._

Edition 1.

[169] dreamt] _dreamt_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[171] dream] _dream_ Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.