Chapter 7

SCENE--A desolate prospect--a ridge of rocks--a Chapel on the summit of one--Moon behind the rocks--night stormy--irregular sound of a bell--HERBERT enters exhausted.

HERBERT That Chapel-bell in mercy seemed to guide me, But now it mocks my steps; its fitful stroke Can scarcely be the work of human hands. Hear me, ye Men, upon the cliffs, if such There be who pray nightly before the Altar. Oh that I had but strength to reach the place! My Child--my Child--dark--dark--I faint--this wind-- These stifling blasts--God help me!

[Enter ELDRED.]

ELDRED Better this bare rock, Though it were tottering over a man's head, Than a tight case of dungeon walls for shelter From such rough dealing. [A moaning voice is heard.] Ha! what sound is that? Trees creaking in the wind (but none are here) Send forth such noises--and that weary bell! Surely some evil Spirit abroad to-night Is ringing it--'twould stop a Saint in prayer, And that--what is it? never was sound so like A human groan. Ha! what is here? Poor Man-- Murdered! alas! speak--speak, I am your friend: No answer--hush--lost wretch, he lifts his hand And lays it to his heart-- (Kneels to him.) I pray you speak! What has befallen you?

HERBERT (feebly) A stranger has done this, And in the arms of a stranger I must die.

ELDRED Nay, think not so: come, let me raise you up: [Raises him.] This is a dismal place--well--that is well-- I was too fearful--take me for your guide And your support--my hut is not far off. [Draws him gently off the stage.]

SCENE--A room in the Hostel--MARMADUKE and OSWALD

MARMADUKE But for Idonea!--I have cause to think That she is innocent.

OSWALD Leave that thought awhile, As one of those beliefs which in their hearts Lovers lock up as pearls, though oft no better Than feathers clinging to their points of passion. This day's event has laid on me the duty Of opening out my story; you must hear it, And without further preface.--In my youth, Except for that abatement which is paid By envy as a tribute to desert, I was the pleasure of all hearts, the darling Of every tongue--as you are now. You've heard That I embarked for Syria. On our voyage Was hatched among the crew a foul Conspiracy Against my honour, in the which our Captain Was, I believed, prime Agent. The wind fell; We lay becalmed week after week, until The water of the vessel was exhausted; I felt a double fever in my veins, Yet rage suppressed itself;--to a deep stillness Did my pride tame my pride;--for many days, On a dead sea under a burning sky, I brooded o'er my injuries, deserted By man and nature;--if a breeze had blown, It might have found its way into my heart, And I had been--no matter--do you mark me?

MARMADUKE Quick--to the point--if any untold crime Doth haunt your memory.

OSWALD Patience, hear me further!-- One day in silence did we drift at noon By a bare rock, narrow, and white, and bare; No food was there, no drink, no grass, no shade, No tree, nor jutting eminence, nor form Inanimate large as the body of man, Nor any living thing whose lot of life Might stretch beyond the measure of one moon. To dig for water on the spot, the Captain Landed with a small troop, myself being one: There I reproached him with his treachery. Imperious at all times, his temper rose; He struck me; and that instant had I killed him, And put an end to his insolence, but my Comrades Rushed in between us: then did I insist (All hated him, and I was stung to madness) That we should leave him there, alive!--we did so.

MARMADUKE And he was famished?

OSWALD Naked was the spot; Methinks I see it now--how in the sun Its stony surface glittered like a shield; And in that miserable place we left him, Alone but for a swarm of minute creatures Not one of which could help him while alive, Or mourn him dead.

MARMADUKE A man by men cast off, Left without burial! nay, not dead nor dying, But standing, walking, stretching forth his arms, In all things like ourselves, but in the agony With which he called for mercy; and--even so-- He was forsaken?

OSWALD There is a power in sounds: The cries he uttered might have stopped the boat That bore us through the water--

MARMADUKE You returned Upon that dismal hearing--did you not?

OSWALD Some scoffed at him with hellish mockery, And laughed so loud it seemed that the smooth sea Did from some distant region echo us.

MARMADUKE We all are of one blood, our veins are filled At the same poisonous fountain!

OSWALD 'Twas an island Only by sufferance of the winds and waves, Which with their foam could cover it at will. I know not how he perished; but the calm, The same dead calm, continued many days.

MARMADUKE But his own crime had brought on him this doom, His wickedness prepared it; these expedients Are terrible, yet ours is not the fault.

OSWALD The man was famished, and was innocent!

MARMADUKE Impossible!

OSWALD The man had never wronged me.

MARMADUKE Banish the thought, crush it, and be at peace. His guilt was marked--these things could never be Were there not eyes that see, and for good ends, Where ours are baffled.

OSWALD I had been deceived.

MARMADUKE And from that hour the miserable man No more was heard of?

OSWALD I had been betrayed.

MARMADUKE And he found no deliverance!

OSWALD The Crew Gave me a hearty welcome; they had laid The plot to rid themselves, at any cost, Of a tyrannic Master whom they loathed. So we pursued our voyage: when we landed, The tale was spread abroad; my power at once Shrunk from me; plans and schemes, and lofty hopes-- All vanished. I gave way--do you attend?

MARMADUKE The Crew deceived you?

OSWALD Nay, command yourself.

MARMADUKE It is a dismal night--how the wind howls!

OSWALD I hid my head within a Convent, there Lay passive as a dormouse in mid winter. That was no life for me--I was o'erthrown But not destroyed.

MARMADUKE The proofs--you ought to have seen The guilt--have touched it--felt it at your heart-- As I have done.

OSWALD A fresh tide of Crusaders Drove by the place of my retreat: three nights Did constant meditation dry my blood; Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on, Through words and things, a dim and perilous way; And, wheresoe'er I turned me, I beheld A slavery compared to which the dungeon And clanking chains are perfect liberty. You understand me--I was comforted; I saw that every possible shape of action Might lead to good--I saw it and burst forth Thirsting for some of those exploits that fill The earth for sure redemption of lost peace. [Marking MARMADUKE'S countenance.] Nay, you have had the worst. Ferocity Subsided in a moment, like a wind That drops down dead out of a sky it vexed. And yet I had within me evermore A salient spring of energy; I mounted From action up to action with a mind That never rested--without meat or drink Have I lived many days--my sleep was bound To purposes of reason--not a dream But had a continuity and substance That waking life had never power to give.

MARMADUKE O wretched Human-kind!--Until the mystery Of all this world is solved, well may we envy The worm, that, underneath a stone whose weight Would crush the lion's paw with mortal anguish, Doth lodge, and feed, and coil, and sleep, in safety. Fell not the wrath of Heaven upon those traitors?

OSWALD Give not to them a thought. From Palestine We marched to Syria: oft I left the Camp, When all that multitude of hearts was still, And followed on, through woods of gloomy cedar, Into deep chasms troubled by roaring streams; Or from the top of Lebanon surveyed The moonlight desert, and the moonlight sea: In these my lonely wanderings I perceived What mighty objects do impress their forms To elevate our intellectual being; And felt, if aught on earth deserves a curse, 'Tis that worst principle of ill which dooms A thing so great to perish self-consumed. --So much for my remorse!

MARMADUKE Unhappy Man!

OSWALD When from these forms I turned to contemplate The World's opinions and her usages, I seemed a Being who had passed alone Into a region of futurity, Whose natural element was freedom--

MARMADUKE Stop-- I may not, cannot, follow thee.

OSWALD You must. I had been nourished by the sickly food Of popular applause. I now perceived That we are praised, only as men in us Do recognise some image of themselves, An abject counterpart of what they are, Or the empty thing that they would wish to be. I felt that merit has no surer test Than obloquy; that, if we wish to serve The world in substance, not deceive by show, We must become obnoxious to its hate, Or fear disguised in simulated scorn.

MARMADUKE I pity, can forgive, you; but those wretches-- That monstrous perfidy!

OSWALD Keep down your wrath. False Shame discarded, spurious Fame despised, Twin sisters both of Ignorance, I found Life stretched before me smooth as some broad way Cleared for a monarch's progress. Priests might spin Their veil, but not for me--'twas in fit place Among its kindred cobwebs. I had been, And in that dream had left my native land, One of Love's simple bondsmen--the soft chain Was off for ever; and the men, from whom This liberation came, you would destroy: Join me in thanks for their blind services.

MARMADUKE 'Tis a strange aching that, when we would curse And cannot.--You have betrayed me--I have done-- I am content--I know that he is guiltless-- That both are guiltless, without spot or stain, Mutually consecrated. Poor old Man! And I had heart for this, because thou lovedst Her who from very infancy had been Light to thy path, warmth to thy blood!--Together [Turning to OSWALD.] We propped his steps, he leaned upon us both.

OSWALD Ay, we are coupled by a chain of adamant; Let us be fellow-labourers, then, to enlarge Man's intellectual empire. We subsist In slavery; all is slavery; we receive Laws, but we ask not whence those laws have come; We need an inward sting to goad us on.

MARMADUKE Have you betrayed me? Speak to that.

OSWALD The mask, Which for a season I have stooped to wear, Must be cast off.--Know then that I was urged, (For other impulse let it pass) was driven, To seek for sympathy, because I saw In you a mirror of my youthful self; I would have made us equal once again, But that was a vain hope. You have struck home, With a few drops of blood cut short the business; Therein for ever you must yield to me. But what is done will save you from the blank Of living without knowledge that you live: Now you are suffering--for the future day, 'Tis his who will command it.--Think of my story-- Herbert is _innocent_.

MARMADUKE (in a faint voice, and doubtingly) You do but echo My own wild words?

OSWALD Young Man, the seed must lie Hid in the earth, or there can be no harvest; 'Tis Nature's law. What I have done in darkness I will avow before the face of day. Herbert _is_ innocent.

MARMADUKE What fiend could prompt This action? Innocent!--oh, breaking heart!-- Alive or dead, I'll find him.

[Exit.]

OSWALD Alive--perdition!

[Exit.]

SCENE--The inside of a poor Cottage

ELEANOR and IDONEA seated

IDONEA The storm beats hard--Mercy for poor or rich, Whose heads are shelterless in such a night!

A VOICE WITHOUT Holla! to bed, good Folks, within!

ELEANOR O save us!

IDONEA What can this mean?

ELEANOR Alas, for my poor husband!-- We'll have a counting of our flocks to-morrow; The wolf keeps festival these stormy nights: Be calm, sweet Lady, they are wassailers [The voices die away in the distance.] Returning from their Feast--my heart beats so-- A noise at midnight does _so_ frighten me.

IDONEA Hush! [Listening.]

ELEANOR They are gone. On such a night, my husband, Dragged from his bed, was cast into a dungeon, Where, hid from me, he counted many years, A criminal in no one's eyes but theirs-- Not even in theirs--whose brutal violence So dealt with him.

IDONEA I have a noble Friend First among youths of knightly breeding, One Who lives but to protect the weak or injured. There again! [Listening.]

ELEANOR 'Tis my husband's foot. Good Eldred Has a kind heart; but his imprisonment Has made him fearful, and he'll never be The man he was.

IDONEA I will retire;--good night! [She goes within.]

[Enter ELDRED (hides a bundle)]

ELDRED Not yet in bed, Eleanor!--there are stains in that frock which must be washed out.

ELEANOR What has befallen you?

ELDRED I am belated, and you must know the cause-- (speaking low) that is the blood of an unhappy Man.

ELEANOR Oh! we are undone for ever.

ELDRED Heaven forbid that I should lift my hand against any man. Eleanor, I have shed tears to-night, and it comforts me to think of it.

ELEANOR Where, where is he?

ELDRED I have done him no harm, but----it will be forgiven me; it would not have been so once.

ELEANOR You have not _buried_ anything? You are no richer than when you left me?

ELDRED Be at peace; I am innocent.

ELEANOR Then God be thanked--

[A short pause; she falls upon his neck.]

ELDRED Tonight I met with an old Man lying stretched upon the ground--a sad spectacle: I raised him up with a hope that we might shelter and restore him.

ELEANOR (as if ready to run) Where is he? You were not able to bring him _all_ the way with you; let us return, I can help you.

[ELDRED shakes his head.]

ELDRED He did not seem to wish for life: as I was struggling on, by the light of the moon I saw the stains of blood upon my clothes--he waved his hand, as if it were all useless; and I let him sink again to the ground.

ELEANOR Oh that I had been by your side!

ELDRED I tell you his hands and his body were cold--how could I disturb his last moments? he strove to turn from me as if he wished to settle into sleep.

ELEANOR But, for the stains of blood--

ELDRED He must have fallen, I fancy, for his head was cut; but I think his malady was cold and hunger.

ELEANOR Oh, Eldred, I shall never be able to look up at this roof in storm or fair but I shall tremble.

ELDRED Is it not enough that my ill stars have kept me abroad to-night till this hour? I come home, and this is my comfort!

ELEANOR But did he say nothing which might have set you at ease?

ELDRED I thought he grasped my hand while he was muttering something about his Child--his Daughter-- (starting as if he heard a noise). What is that?

ELEANOR Eldred, you are a father.

ELDRED God knows what was in my heart, and will not curse my son for my sake.

ELEANOR But you prayed by him? you waited the hour of his release?

ELDRED The night was wasting fast; I have no friend; I am spited by the world--his wound terrified me--if I had brought him along with me, and he had died in my arms!----I am sure I heard something breathing--and this chair!

ELEANOR Oh, Eldred, you will die alone. You will have nobody to close your eyes--no hand to grasp your dying hand--I shall be in my grave. A curse will attend us all.

ELDRED Have you forgot your own troubles when I was in the dungeon?

ELEANOR And you left him alive?

ELDRED Alive!--the damps of death were upon him--he could not have survived an hour.

ELEANOR In the cold, cold night.

ELDRED (in a savage tone) Ay, and his head was bare; I suppose you would have had me lend my bonnet to cover it.--You will never rest till I am brought to a felon's end.

ELEANOR Is there nothing to be done? cannot we go to the Convent?

ELDRED Ay, and say at once that I murdered him!

ELEANOR Eldred, I know that ours is the only house upon the Waste; let us take heart; this Man may be rich; and could he be saved by our means, his gratitude may reward us.

ELDRED 'Tis all in vain.

ELEANOR But let us make the attempt. This old Man may have a wife, and he may have children--let us return to the spot; we may restore him, and his eyes may yet open upon those that love him.

ELDRED He will never open them more; even when he spoke to me, he kept them firmly sealed as if he had been blind.

IDONEA (rushing out) It is, it is, my Father--

ELDRED We are betrayed (looking at IDONEA).

ELEANOR His Daughter!--God have mercy! (turning to IDONEA)

IDONEA (sinking down) Oh! lift me up and carry me to the place. You are safe; the whole world shall not harm you.

ELEANOR This Lady is his Daughter.

ELDRED (moved) I'll lead you to the spot.

IDONEA (springing up) Alive!--you heard him breathe? quick, quick--

[Exeunt.]