BEG.
I was saying, Sir –
Well! – he has often spurned me like a toad,
But yesterday was worse than all; – at last
I overtook him, Sirs, my Babe and I,
And begged a little aid for charity:
But he was snappish as a cottage cur.
Well then, says I – I'll out with it; at which
I cast a look upon the Girl, and felt
As if my heart would burst; and so I left him.
OSW.
I think, good Woman, you are the very person
Whom, but some few days past, I saw in Eskdale,
At Herbert's door.
BEG.
Ay; and if truth were known
I have good business there.
OSW.
I met you at the threshold,
And he seemed angry.
BEG.
Angry! well he might;
And long as I can stir I'll dog him. – Yesterday,
To serve me so, and knowing that he owes
The best of all he has to me and mine.
But 'tis all over now. – That good old Lady
Has left a power of riches; and I say it,
If there's a lawyer in the land, the knave
Shall give me half.
OSW.
What's this? – I fear, good Woman,
You have been insolent.
BEG.
And there's the Baron,
I spied him skulking in his peasant's dress.
OSW.
How say you? in disguise? –
MAR.
But what's your business
With Herbert or his Daughter?
BEG.
Daughter! truly –
But how's the day? – I fear, my little Boy,
We've overslept ourselves. – Sirs, have you seen him?
Offers to go.
MAR.
I must have more of this; – you shall not stir
An inch, till I am answered. Know you aught
That doth concern this Herbert?
BEG.
You are provoked,
And will misuse me, Sir!
MAR.
No trifling, Woman! –
OSW.
You are as safe as in a sanctuary;
Speak.
MAR.
Speak!
BEG.
He is a most hard-hearted Man.
MAR.
Your life is at my mercy.
BEG.
Do not harm me,
And I will tell you all! – You know not, Sir,
What strong temptations press upon the Poor.
OSW.
Speak out.
BEG.
Oh, Sir, I've been a wicked Woman.
OSW.
Nay, but speak out!
BEG.
He flattered me, and said
What harvest it would bring us both; and so
I parted with the Child.
MAR.
Parted with whom?
BEG.
Idonea, as he calls her; but the Girl
Is mine.
MAR.
Yours, Woman! are you Herbert's wife?
BEG.
Wife, Sir! his wife – not I; my husband, Sir,
Was of Kirkoswald – many a snowy winter
We've weathered out together. My poor Gilfred!
He has been two years in his grave.
MAR.
Enough.
OSW.
We've solved the riddle – Miscreant!
MAR.
Do you,
Good Dame, repair to Liddesdale and wait
For my return; be sure you shall have justice.
OSW.
A lucky woman! – go, you have done good service.
Aside.
MAR to himself.
Eternal praises on the power that saved her! –
OSW gives her money.
Here's for your little boy, – and when you christen him
I'll be his Godfather.
BEG.
Oh Sir, you are merry with me.
In grange or farm this Hundred scarcely owns
A dog that does not know me. – These good Folks,
For love of God I must not pass their doors;
But I'll be back with my best speed: for you –
God bless and thank you both, my gentle Masters.
Exit Beggar.
MAR to himself.
The cruel Viper! – Poor devoted Maid,
Now I do love thee.
OSW.
I am thunderstruck.
MAR.
Where is she – holla!
Calling to the Beggar, who returns; he looks at her stedfastly.
You are Idonea's Mother? –
Nay, be not terrified – it does me good
To look upon you.
OSW interrupting.
In a peasant's dress
You saw, who was it?
BEG.
Nay, I dare not speak;
He is a man, if it should come to his ears
I never shall be heard of more.
OSW.
Lord Clifford?
BEG.
What can I do? believe me, gentle Sirs,
I love her, though I dare not call her daughter.
OSW.
Lord Clifford – did you see him talk with Herbert?
BEG.
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.
OSW.
Enough! you may depart.
MAR to himself.
Father! – to God himself we cannot give
A holier name; and, under such a mask,
To lead a Spirit, spotless as the blessed,
To that abhorrèd 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.
OSW.
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.
MAR.
These ten years she has moved her lips all day
And never speaks!
OSW.
Who is it?
MAR.
I have seen her.
OSW.
Oh! the poor tenant of that ragged homestead,
Her whom the Monster, Clifford, drove to madness.
MAR.
I met a peasant near the spot; he told me,
These ten years she had sate all day alone
Within those empty walls.
OSW.
I too have seen her;
Chancing to pass 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.
MAR.
At her door
Rooted I stood; for, looking at the woman,
I thought I saw the skeleton of Idonea.
OSW.
But the pretended Father –
MAR.
Earthly law
Measures not crimes like his.
OSW.
We rank not, happily,
With those who take the spirit of their rule
From that soft class 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.
MAR.
Yes, loves him; 'tis a truth that multiplies
His guilt a thousand-fold.
OSW.
'Tis most perplexing:
What must be done?
MAR.
We will conduct her hither;
These walls shall witness it – from first to last
He shall reveal himself.
OSW.
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.
MAR.
Let us begone and bring her hither; – here
The truth shall be laid open, his guilt proved
Before her face.
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