The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 72

IDONEA That smile hath life in it!

MARMADUKE This road is perilous; I will attend you to a Hut that stands Near the wood's edge--rest there to-night, I pray you: For me, I have business, as you heard, with Oswald, But will return to you by break of day.

[Exeunt.]

ACT IV

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--G.o.d 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 pa.s.sion.

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 gra.s.s, 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 s.h.i.+eld; 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 h.e.l.lish 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.