OSWALD Lord Clifford--did you see him talk with Herbert?

BEGGAR Yes, to my sorrow--under the great oak At Herbert's door--and when he stood beside The blind Man--at the silent Girl he looked With such a look--it makes me tremble, Sir, To think of it.

OSWALD Enough! you may depart.

MARMADUKE (to himself) Father!--to G.o.d himself we cannot give A holier name; and, under such a mask, To lead a Spirit, spotless as the blessed, To that abhorred den of brutish vice!-- Oswald, the firm foundation of my life Is going from under me; these strange discoveries-- Looked at from every point of fear or hope, Duty, or love--involve, I feel, my ruin.

ACT II

SCENE--A Chamber in the Hostel--OSWALD alone, rising from a Table on which he had been writing.

OSWALD They chose _him_ for their Chief!--what covert part He, in the preference, modest Youth, might take, I neither know nor care. The insult bred More of contempt than hatred; both are flown; That either e'er existed is my shame: 'Twas a dull spark--a most unnatural fire That died the moment the air breathed upon it.

--These fools of feeling are mere birds of winter That haunt some barren island of the north, Where, if a famishing man stretch forth his hand, They think it is to feed them. I have left him To solitary meditation;--now For a few swelling phrases, and a flash Of truth, enough to dazzle and to blind, And he is mine for ever--here he comes.

[Enter MARMADUKE.]

MARMADUKE These ten years she has moved her lips all day And never speaks!

OSWALD Who is it?

MARMADUKE I have seen her.

OSWALD Oh! the poor tenant of that ragged homestead, Her whom the Monster, Clifford, drove to madness.

MARMADUKE I met a peasant near the spot; he told me, These ten years she had sate all day alone Within those empty walls.

OSWALD I too have seen her; Chancing to pa.s.s this way some six months gone, At midnight, I betook me to the Churchyard: The moon shone clear, the air was still, so still The trees were silent as the graves beneath them.

Long did I watch, and saw her pacing round Upon the self-same spot, still round and round, Her lips for ever moving.

MARMADUKE At her door Rooted I stood; for, looking at the woman, I thought I saw the skeleton of Idonea.

OSWALD But the pretended Father--

MARMADUKE Earthly law Measures not crimes like his.

OSWALD _We_ rank not, happily, With those who take the spirit of their rule From that soft cla.s.s of devotees who feel Reverence for life so deeply, that they spare The verminous brood, and cherish what they spare While feeding on their bodies. Would that Idonea Were present, to the end that we might hear What she can urge in his defence; she loves him.

MARMADUKE Yes, loves him; 'tis a truth that multiplies His guilt a thousand-fold.

OSWALD 'Tis most perplexing: What must be done?

MARMADUKE We will conduct her hither; These walls shall witness it--from first to last He shall reveal himself.

OSWALD Happy are we, Who live in these disputed tracts, that own No law but what each man makes for himself; Here justice has indeed a field of triumph.

MARMADUKE Let us begone and bring her hither;--here The truth shall be laid open, his guilt proved Before her face. The rest be left to me.

OSWALD You will be firm: but though we well may trust The issue to the justice of the cause, Caution must not be flung aside; remember, Yours is no common life. Self-stationed here, Upon these savage confines, we have seen you Stand like an isthmus 'twixt two stormy seas That oft have checked their fury at your bidding.

'Mid the deep holds of Solway's mossy waste, Your single virtue has transformed a Band Of fierce barbarians into Ministers Of peace and order. Aged men with tears Have blessed their steps, the fatherless retire For shelter to their banners. But it is, As you must needs have deeply felt, it is In darkness and in tempest that we seek The majesty of Him who rules the world.

Benevolence, that has not heart to use The wholesome ministry of pain and evil, Becomes at last weak and contemptible.

Your generous qualities have won due praise, But vigorous Spirits look for something more Than Youth's spontaneous products; and to-day You will not disappoint them; and hereafter--

MARMADUKE You are wasting words; hear me then, once for all: You are a Man--and therefore, if compa.s.sion, Which to our kind is natural as life, Be known unto you, you will love this Woman, Even as I do; but I should loathe the light, If I could think one weak or partial feeling--

OSWALD You will forgive me--

MARMADUKE If I ever knew My heart, could penetrate its inmost core, 'Tis at this moment.--Oswald, I have loved To be the friend and father of the oppressed, A comforter of sorrow;--there is something Which looks like a transition in my soul, And yet it is not.--Let us lead him hither.

OSWALD Stoop for a moment; 'tis an act of justice; And where's the triumph if the delegate Must fall in the execution of his office?

The deed is done--if you will have it so-- Here where we stand--that tribe of vulgar wretches (You saw them gathering for the festival) Rush in--the villains seize us--

MARMADUKE Seize!

OSWALD Yes, they-- Men who are little given to sift and weigh-- Would wreak on us the pa.s.sion of the moment.

MARMADUKE The cloud will soon disperse--farewell--but stay, Thou wilt relate the story.