University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

An oak chamber in Revesdale Castle; door at back leading to chapel. Night.
Enter Alice and Richard, bearing lamp, and ushering in Arthur Ringwood.
Alice.
This way, your honour—this way, Master Arthur.
May it prove a joyful day, or rather night.
You're kindly welcome.

Rich.
Welcome! You forget
'Tis for the young squire here to welcome us.
The Castle now is his.

Alice.
How thy wits wander!

Arth.
What says good Alice?

Rich.
Nay, she'll not believe
That you've bought Revesdale, and are lord of it.

Alice.
Revesdale's the lord of Revesdale. In the time
Of my grandsire's grandsire, it had been so years
Beyond his count.

Arth.
It was so then.

Alice.
What then was
Must be so still. I'm grown too old to change.

Arth.
Too faithful, say.

Alice.
I see now why my son
Called you the lord of Revesdale. 'Tis because
You'll wed the lady of Revesdale. [To Richard.]
Thy poor wits
That once wast shrewd! 'Tis not the wife gives rank,
But the husband. Rest ye, gentles, for awhile;
I'll bring my beauty to ye, my dear child—
I'll bring the bride anon.

[She goes out.
Enter Matthew Ringwood.
Mat.
The priest attends,
And all's prepared. A word with you, friend Richard,
On this near marriage.

Arth.
His true service claims
Full confidence. [To Richard.]
Your lady takes a husband
In her brother's absence—nay, against his will.
You like not that, nor I; but reasons strong
And just enforce it.

Rich.
What my mistress does
Must needs be right.

Arth.
True; but your lord being adverse,
We would not use such public ceremony
As might offend him; therefore hold our union
Private, as we would have it.

Rich.
I'll be heedful.

[He retires to back, and occupies himself in arranging the apartment.
Mat.
So Revesdale now is ours! and thy Felicia
Knows why we bought the Castle and domain?

Arth.
She does. I told her, that should chance restore
Her brother's wealth, it should again be his.

Mat.
A costly purchase! Ringwood must be sold
To stock our empty coffers. But for that,
Its old walls had received you.

Rich.
See, my mistress!

Enter Felicia in bridal attire, accompanied by Alice.
Fel.
[To Alice.]
Await me here. [Advancing.]
An unattended bride,
No kindred nor companions to present me
To my dear lord, I do present myself.

Arth.
There is no herald to thy love so fit
As its own music.

Mat.
Bless you for his sake,
My brave, true child!

Arth.
And yet my heart, Felicia,
Half shrinks to take its treasure. If one doubt—

Fel.
There's no doubt—can be none.—Arthur, I've weighed
Each point of duty. Basil, ere he went,
Left me these written words:—“By all that makes
An oath inviolable, on my return
You part from Ringwood or from me. Obey,
Or seek a separate home.” That oath he'll keep.
His journey's to your rival's house, in hopes
His suit may shake my purpose. To await
Basil's return, what were it but to wage
A fruitless strife, and widen for no cause
Our household wounds? In all becomes a sister
I'd drain my heart for him; but in that love
Which holds not of our kin, but straight from heaven,
Doth blend two souls in one—who owns that claim,
Must own it paramount.

Arth.
O, pardon me,
If jealousy for thy pure nobleness
Makes question still. What if our union, private,
Unknown beyond these walls, yet linking us
In closest contract, draw on thee reproach
From the malignant? What if they should say—

Mat.
What can they say, but that an honoured lady
Receives two honoured guests? In a few days
Her brother will return, and all be told.

Fel.
My love past doubt, I'll place beyond dispute.

Alice.
[Coming forward.]
Now, ladybird, the priest
Attends; my darling's stayed for.

Mat.
May Heaven's grace
Bless thee, my daughter! 'Tis some forty years
Since, as that boy stands now, I stood with one
Gentle and fair like thee. She left me him
For my age's solace; and I think, though friends
Are scanty here, perhaps an angel's eyes
Look on these bridals. There!—don't think that grief
Flows in these drops. I see the future through them,
The happy future!—Basil reconciled,
As he must be when he knows us, a glad group
Round the old man at the hearth, and, in good time,
Perhaps upon his knees—What was I saying?
Lean on your bridesman, girl. Now, boy, your arm
To Mistress Alice!

Arth.
Alice!

Alice.
Sir, that ever—

Arth.
[Placing her arm in his.]
I shall claim my kiss!

Alice.
Ah, well-a-day!

Mat.
Come, daughter!

[Arthur with Alice, Matthew with Felicia, go into the adjoining chapel, from which the music of an organ is heard, Richard lighting them.

SCENE II.

An apartment in a roadside hostelry. Fireplace. Drayton, Miles, and Holme seated at table before the fire; on table a bottle of wine and glasses. A large screen behind them divides the apartment.
Dray.
Alone?

Miles.
[Looking behind the screen.]
Not a mouse hears.

Dray.
Then one last cup
To our patron ere we move.

Holme.
Drink deep—Success
To Russell and his mission! [All drink.]
Now or never
Is the adventure's time. The people's heart
Would leap to it.

Dray.
These Dutchmen never hurry.

Miles.
Fill up! Our task's done, and we've baffled Bancroft.

Holme.
We're safer, being these twenty miles apart.
I liked not his close conference with Lord Revesdale.

Dray.
No danger there; a Revesdale ne'er betrayed.
And my lord was in our power, having signed to treason,
Whose penalty is death.

Holme.
[Refilling his glass.]
So his lands are sold!

Dray.
It had been gold well spent had some we wot of
Bought Revesdale Castle. Here's the plan of't—see!
A height commanding all the bay.

[He exhibits the plan, and, as they examine and discuss it, Revesdale enters with the Landlord unobserved.
Reves.
[Apart to Landlord.]
Wine, host,
And a fresh horse! and quickly. I'd reach home
Ere night. [Landlord goes out.]
Disastrous chance, that called my friend
From his house before I reached it, and so wasted
My day in the vain hope of his return!
[Landlord re-enters with salver and bottle of wine and glass, and places them on table. Landlord goes out.
Strangers!

[He retires to back of screen and sits.
Dray.
Ay, Revesdale Castle's in bad hands.

Miles.
In upstart Ringwood's, who refused our league,
Because, forsooth, the cause lacked better vouchers!

Holme.
How brooks the proud Lord Basil to see Ringwood
Master of Revesdale?

Miles.
Soon to wed his sister.

Holme.
A bridegroom who should blazon on his shield
Three vats, with crest—a malt-sack!

Dray.
'Tis well Revesdale
Has been of late from home; though they were friends,
He'd scarcely brook young Ringwood's license, or
This gossip on his sister.

[All laugh and rise.
Holme.
But that tale
Touching her chamber! It's mere jest?

Dray.
'Tis sworn to
By our landlord's niece, a dweller in the village,
Who, having business with the lady, entered
The room inopportunely.

[Renewed laughter.
Reves.
[Starting up, and advancing to them.]
May I share
Your pleasant secret, sirs?

Miles.
My lord!

Reves.
Go on!
My sister and her chamber? Stint not breath;
I would laugh too.

Dray.
Your sister?

Reves.
Ay, her chamber?

Dray.
[Hesitating.]
My lord, it has been new furnished in your absence
To suit young Ringwood's taste.

Miles.
Whereat we laughed

Holme.
No offence, I hope?

Reves.
Beware! You're warned; beware—

Dray.
Nay, nay; we fear not threats; but own the claim
Of your misfortunes. If in light discourse,
We have given unmeant offence, accept our sorrow,
And grant your pardon. [Revesdale bows haughtily, and walks apart.]
Come, the day wears down.

Holme.
Have with you!

Dray.
[To Miles, who refills his glass.]
Sirrah, d'ye mean
To sit your horse?

Miles.
[Draining his glass.]
There, there!

Dray.
Good day, my lord!

[Drayton, Miles, and Holme go out.
Reves.
[Coming forward.]
My lands are sold then;
Revesdale now is Ringwood's!
To-day, these men came from the very spot
That was our home—was for five hundred years!
What meant their mirth about my sister's chamber?
There lurked beneath it more than they expressed.
'Tis plain that all men know young Ringwood's suit,
And her consent. [After a pause, with uncontrollable passion.]
Would hurricanes had strewed
Earth with my towers! would that the earth, our soil,
Had gaped, and so engulfed them!—Wed Felicia!
Our blood that sprang from mountain heights of time,
Caught glory's rays while all below was dark—
Had fate no blast to freeze, no torrid heat
To scorch, even to its bed, that stream, or e'er
It lapsed into a sluice, and turned a mill-wheel?
Well, well; well, well!

[Drinks excitedly, and throws himself into chair.
Enter Bancroft.
Ban.
Are those I sought not here?
Mine host is ignorant, or bribed. [Aside.]
How, Revesdale!
He meets my very wish. That scrupulous sense
Called honour sways him so, that in cool blood
'Twere vain to tempt him; but I've news will lash
His passions into fury—fact, broad fact,
The man whom most he hates his sister's guest,
And by a village matron found last night
Where no foot but a husband's should intrude!
This, if I know my lord, shall gain my ends,
And so arouse his pride, that, like a sea,
In fury, and unconscious, he'll cast up
His inmost secrets. [Feigning surprise.]
Ah! whom do I look on?
Lord Revesdale? 'Tis my honoured lord!

Reves.
[Fiercely.]
Your will?
Why mock with this feigned respect a ruined outcast?

Ban.
Because you are one; I can show respect,
And not be thought to flatter.

Reves.
[Recklessly.]
Right!—At least
I'm a gainer that way!

Ban.
[Aside.]
Wine or rage, or both,
Have fevered him. The better!—you've heard all?

Reves.
[Aside.]
Peace, heart! Such griefs as thine are not to prate of,
As hawkers prate their ballads.—Yes, sir, all.

Ban.
That your castle's sold?

Reves.
Ay.

Ban.
And to whom?

Reves.
That, too.

Ban.
You bear it nobly. Strangers were more loud
In your behalf than you. No man would bid
For your inheritance, save Arthur Ringwood.

Reves.
It fell to him cheaply, then?

Ban.
This fortitude,
Though I rejoice at it, seems more than natural.
Dull wit! You have compounded with young Ringwood,
Renewed your friendship! To be sure you have!
Well, well! 'Twas prudent; you had no resource
But to yield your sister, and to trust his bounty.

Reves.
You're venturous, sir!

Ban.
Plague on't! my rough, blunt way.
I might have guessed before
That you were reconciled, or he had not dared,
While Revesdale yet was yours, to come there wooing,
Against your strict command.

Reves.
When I left home—
I mean, left Revesdale?

Ban.
There the next day found him,
The next to that, the third; at last he stayed.

Reves.
Stayed! where? at Revesdale? and my sister?

Ban.
There
I'm baffled. If with your leave he wooed her, why
Forget all caution in his interviews,
And draw men's gossip on her?

Reves.
Gossip!

Ban.
Well,
I'm loth to call it scandal, but the world
Will judge by what it sees.

Reves.
Judge what? [Bancroft averts his face.]
Judge what?

Ban.
What would you judge yourself, if a gallant,
Unwedded, sought a maiden in her home,
No father near, nor brother, she alone—
Sought her at eve, and had not left at dawn?
At least, he slept at Revesdale yesternight.

Reves.
'Neath the same roof with her?

Ban.
Yes, one despatched
On an errand to your sister, unawares
Entering the boudoir which adjoins her chamber,
Found him there late.

Reves.
In her chamber?

Ban.
Nay, I said
The adjoining room; now, though I charge no guilt—

Reves.
Guilt! Guilt!

Ban.
You're so intemperate; I but say
'Twas indiscreet!

Reves.
'Twas indiscreet! Ah! now
The jests those men cast on her flash upon me
In their foul sense! Felicia, a theme
For ribald tongues, a name for reeking lips
To mouth between the drainings of a flagon,
A key-note to the chorus of such laughter
As shakes a tavern!

Ban.
[Aside.]
The gale whistles now!

Reves.
My innocent one, that in her orphanhood
Flew to my bosom dovelike; whose small hand
Our dying mother clasped in mine to guard,
And sanctified love's natural bonds at birth,
By prayers in death; my darling, whom I loved
Even as my better self! O traitor! why
Not thrust at my heart only? Stripped, forlorn,
And humbled, one pang more had cost me little.
But she, my sister! There be eyes in heaven
That would forget the patience of the place,
And haunt me with reproach if I forgave him!

Ban.
'Tis sure he failed in decent reverence to her.

Reves.
Nay, had she been mere pulseless stone, she stood
Niched in the pure tradition of our honour
To bend men's thoughts in homage; but herself,
Whose very life is purity, whose love,
Thought, grace, flow from its fount, all purity—
To foul that stream of crystal from the urn
Of shadowing ages! O, his star ascends
And mine dies out; but from my ashes leaps
A comet that shall cross his rising orb
With fiery portent in the midst of heaven!
Would we were met!

Ban.
Why?

Reves.
Ah, why, why? He seeks
To blend with the blood of Revesdale, not to spill it—
He'd tell me so, I doubt not!

Ban.
Pity 'tis
That you met ever.

Reves.
[Traversing the room impetuously, as if speaking to himself.]
Be that hour accursed!
Accursed the shows of genial fellowship
And truth that won me to him! Cursed my weak
And womanish pity that, while we were strangers,
Sealed up my servants' lips that eagerly
Sought to denounce his treason!

Ban.
[Aside.]
Mad with rage,
He knows not what he utters! Treason! Nay—

Reves.
It perilled his head, though. Norris, Hurst, and others
Of my following, heard it from his own confession.

Ban.
[Musing.]
Norris and Hurst! Some skirmish then. [Approaching Revesdale.]
I say
Some petty skirmish, then?

Reves.
[Impatiently.]
Ay, ay, his sword
Drawn for the rebels while they fled or rallied.
I know not nor remember. I but felt
His danger and my pity.

Ban.
[Aside.]
Hurst and Norris
May have better memories.—And he stung the heel
That, raised, could crush him.

Reves.
Peace!

Ban.
His very life
Lying in your grasp,—you see!

Reves.
Not I!

Ban.
That's strange.
He is a traitor; you, with Hurst and Norris,
Could prove him such.

[Laying his hand familiarly on Revesdale's arm.
Reves.
Off, sir! [Throws off Bancroft.]
I spear the foe
That dares me with his tusk; but I don't chase him
To pitfalls for the butcher!

Ban.
Humph! the king
May be less precise in his hunting.

Reves.
Ah! You would not—

Ban.
Fair journey to your lordship.

[Going.
Reves.
Bancroft, stay!

Ban.
Not now; you're ruffled, and you shook me off
As the bloodhound's paws had soiled you. [Aside.]
Hurst and Norris!
[Bancroft goes out.

Reves.
[After a pause, as if bewildered.]
What have I done? Now do I see his drift.
The villain who would tempt me thus would lie
Or colour truth to dupe me. I'll pursue
And drag him back! But wherefore? Could I chain
His limbs, his tongue were free. That must be stilled
At any cost! [Moves to the door.]
His horse's hoofs! They trample
Upon a living path—my honour! Yes,
I've betrayed Ringwood! ay, betrayed—the sin
Of basest cowards. Vain to say my words
Flew from me like the unconscious sparks from iron
That's hammered when afire;—'twas in the furnace
Of my own pride I let this demon heat me,
And beat me to his shaping! Fool, whose hand,
Clutching the shows of nobleness, let slip
The very thing! And Arthur—ah, why linger?
They may be on his track, his life the game,
And not a voice to warn! [Seizing his hat and cloak.
I should have wings
To save him! Ah, what wing will overtake
Those angels who have fled me—Peace and Honour!

[He rushes out.

SCENE III.

A spacious Gothic entrance-hall in Revesdale Castle; a massive staircase leading to apartments; many portraits of the Revesdale family are suspended conspicuously on the wall; cheering and dance music heard without; doors open.
Enter Giles, Richard, and Servants.
Giles.
O happy day! You're sure of this good news?

Rich.
Quite sure; my mistress had it in a letter
From some great lord in London—Lord—Lord Norville.
He has pleaded with the king, and made him pay
His debts to our master.

Giles.
Hurrah! [To the rest.]
D'ye hear? Lord Basil
Is rich again; the good old times we knew
Are back once more.

Ser.
Brave news! brave news!

Rich.
Lord Revesdale,
Being absent, knows not yet this happy change.
Would he were here! He's to have Revesdale back.
Our young squire bought it in the hope some chance
Like this might give it to his friend again.

Giles.
He's a true friend, Squire Arthur!

[Peasants laugh and shout without.
Rich.
See, here comes
A holiday group! Our lady has thrown open
The park and house for a festival in honour
Of these blithe tidings; but the night drives in
Our merry-makers.

Enter male and female Peasants, preceded by Alice.
Alice.
[Advancing from the group in great excitement.]
Now, son, who was right?
Said I not Revesdale still was lord of Revesdale?
And now all say it. Strike up, lads and girls!

[Music. A dance.
Giles.
I could shake a leg myself.

[Offers his arm to Alice, who, unable to control herself, joins the dance.
Rich.
[At conclusion of the dance.]
Hold, hold, our lady!
[Felicia, Matthew, and Arthur appear on the staircase. Peasants, &c., range themselves at side.
Join all! Long life to Revesdale and our lady!

Chorus.
[By the group.]
Long live Lord Revesdale and his noble sister!

Giles.
And his honour and Squire Arthur!

Group.
Ay, long life
And happiness to all!

Fel.
Thanks, thanks, good friends!
Let me not check the mirth, for my heart shares it.

[Felicia, Matthew, and Arthur descend the staircase and advance to front; all bow and curtsey, and then retire towards doors.
Mat.
[To dancers.]
Well done! Fall to again! [To Felicia.]
I feel
So light, so gay! I never see the young
Glad, but my old heart leaps up wild and full.
I must dance, or sing, or kiss some one; I must!
For fear of accidents, it shall be you.

[Kisses her tenderly.
Fel.
Fie! You, a veteran!

Mat.
Veteran, girl! I'm young.
True youth is like true wine—the longer kept,
The more the spirit of the grape comes out.

Arth.
There wants but one thing to complete our joy—
Basil's return.

Mat.
How, scapegrace? Do you feel
No awe of the man from whom you've stolen his sister?

Fel.
No danger now. The winter that congealed
His love dispelled, 'twill open all its sweets
In Fortune's sunshine. 'Tis not in his heart
To turn from your devotion.

Mat.
What delays him?
'Tis clear he's not with Norville, who despatched
The letter that restored your brother's rights
From London.

Fel.
You speak anxiously.

Mat.
No, no;
There's nought to fear. And yet 'tis true the land
Is rife with plots.

Arth.
I'm glad of it!

Mat.
Hush! Scarce a house
But holds a spy. Hundreds are daily seized
In the name of Order.

Arth.
Order—name abused!
When shall this harassed land know order more?—
The glad obedience freemen pay the laws
That keep them free. Cruelty on the bench,
Fraud in the council, menace everywhere,
The heart denied its commerce with the tongue—
Can there be order? Can unscrupulous power
Strike on a nation's heartstrings with a gauntlet,
And look for music?

Mat.
'Tis said all men's hopes
Are set on Holland; but the cautious prince
Resists entreaty.

Arth.
Till his time be ripe.

[Laughter from the Dancers at back.
Fel.
Leave these grave themes, and list their happy laughter.

[A pause, during which they watch the Dancers.
Reves.
[Without.]
Way, there! My sister! Arthur!

Fel.
Ah, that voice!
[The group divides in consternation. Revesdale rushes in.]
My brother!

[Going to him.
Reves.
Touch me not! No, no embrace.
Hence, Arthur, for your life!

Arth.
Go, friends. [Peasants go out with Alice, Richard, and Giles. Doors are closed.]
Now, Basil?

Reves.
[Aside.]
He is here; in that
Bancroft spoke truth. [To Arthur.]
By what right do you share
One home with her?

Fel.
By the best right—a husband's.
My brother—

Reves.
[Aside.]
Married! That explains the slander.
Married! What depths of horror at that word
Yawn in my path! Fly, Arthur, fly!

Fel.
You speak
In terror, not in wrath.

Reves.
Fly!

Arth.
On this night,
That hails you back to Revesdale—to your Revesdale!

Fel.
Ay, brother, yours. Lord Norville from the king
Has won your rights, and Arthur holds your lands
But to restore them.

Reves.
[Aside.]
Restore them! This for me,
Beyond redemption lost! [To Arthur.]
Why do you stand
With that calm brow, when every moment falls
Like a sand from the glass of fate? Fly for your life,
From hence, from England!

Mat.
What do you mean?

Reves.
'Tis known—
His treason, or the deed which the law calls so,
Is known. His foes are mustering, on their way,
Fleet as the wind, stanch as remorse; there's not
To spare a second!

Arth.
If suspicion's roused,
Flight would confirm it. Those who seek my life
May lie in wait at the port. 'Twere wiser far
To stay and front them.

Reves.
Madness! [Kneeling to Arthur.]
On my knees
I do beseech you—

Fel.
Hear him, Arthur; yield,
My heart's beloved!

Arth.
And leave thee?

Fel.
Ay, to save
Thyself—my self, that's wrapped in thine.

Arth.
But, hear me!

Fel.
Hear me! We'll fly together!

Mat.
It must not be.
Arthur was right. Where are the proofs against him?
His deed is known to none save Basil here
And his trusty servants. All's secure; we'll face
This crisis! [To Felicia.]
Courage!

Reves.
[Aside.]
Then I must confess
My baseness. Arthur!

Arth.
Basil, 'tis your zeal
For me provokes these fears. Ah! when most harsh,
I felt that you were still my friend at heart,
My warm, true friend!

Reves.
No, listen! If a wretch—
Ah!

[A loud knocking is heard without. Revesdale stands as if tranced in horror. A short interval of silence. Knocking repeated.
Fel.
Husband!

Reves.
To the library. It opens
On the rear of the park—the private path! Escape!
[Drawing his sword and rushing to the door.
I'll guard the door. More strength than's packed in iron
Stiffens this arm! Hence! there's yet time.

[Louder knocking and clamour without.
Arth.
[Seizing Revesdale's arm.]
Resist not!
Your life is perilled now.

Reves.
What bliss if that
Could ransom thine!

[Struggling with Arthur.]
Arth.
Be calm; I must remain.

The doors are burst open, and Bancroft enters, followed by two Officers of the Militia.
Ban.
Disarm that madman!

Reves.
[Officers disarm Revesdale.]
Villain!

Ban.
Arthur Ringwood,
I arrest you for high treason!

Mat.
On whose charge?

Ban.
[Aside to Officers.]
See those men, Hurst and Norris, kept apart,
Then stand in call; quick!

[Two Officers go out.]
Arth.
Still athirst for blood!

Ban.
Is it so strange in a bloodhound? That's the name
You and my lord gave me; the name that crowds
Chorus with yells. When I was so baptized,
You were my sponsors. Giving me the name,
Should I not have the nature? Know, your crime,
If proved, is death.

Mat.
Say, who accuses him?
None save you have suborned them. Ah, beware!
My boy is loved of the peasants.

Ban.
No mob escort
Shall see your son to prison; a detachment
Of the king's force is sent for in his honour.

Mat.
I ask for his accuser.

Ban.
Ask my lord.

Arth.
Insolent scoffer!

Fel.
[Crossing to Revesdale, and speaking to him aside.]
Do not heed him, Basil.
Your anguish helps suspicion. It was night
When the fray chanced; none recognised my husband,
Or he had been seized before.

Reves.
'Tis known!

Fel.
To none
But Hurst and Norris, our old faithful followers;
They would not act a baseness which no tongue
Could curse to the full.

Reves.
There was a third—a third
Who knew!

Fel.
Who? If he have betrayed
My noble Arthur, may that solemn justice,
Which, unlike man's, looks to the heart as well
As to the act, judge him!

Reves.
It does, it does!

Fel.
His name? Why droop your head? He cannot be
Your friend. You shudder! Ah, what fearful thoughts
Dart through my brain! Your feud with Arthur, your
Close intercourse with Bancroft, now that look!
No, no—I loathe my mind for the doubt distraction,
Not reason, prompts! Speak, brother, speak in mercy!
This traitor's name?

Reves.
Behold him!

[During the previous dialogue Matthew, Arthur, and Bancroft have approached them.
Arth.
Whom?

Ban.
A witness
To your guilt. Here, sirs!

[He goes up the stage and calls in Officers.
Mat.
My son! [To Felicia, who turns to Arthur.]
Away!
Thou hast no part in him! thou art his sister.

Fel.
No!

Arth.
Father!

Mat.
Forgive me, girl!

[Extends his hand to her.
Arth.
Basil, what brought thee
To this abasement?

Reves.
[In a deep whisper.]
Why, my pride, that listened
Unto that demon!

Fel.
[To Arthur.]
Speak no more; let's meet
Our fate in silence.

Arth.
Wife, his wretchedness
Doth outweigh ours. Look on him, and have pity.

Mat.
Pity! he had none.

Arth.
[To Revesdale.]
Say, how wast thou wrought
To this extreme?

Reves.
I deemed by you our house
Had suffered shame.

[Two Officers go out.
Fel.
[With bitter laughter.]
Our house! [Arthur signs to her to be silent.]
If any speak,
I must. Our house! Thy house! Where ranks thy name
In its roll of heroes? [Pointing to portraits.]
See, their pictured forms
Start into life and ask thee! Art thou heir
Of him whose chivalry spared gallant foes?
Thou didst not spare thy friend! Of him whose counsels
Quelled bloody strife 'twixt kingdoms? Thou hast stained
With blood thy hearth! Of him whose tuneful lips
Sang noble deeds? How will this deed of thine
Tell with the minstrels? Rise, ye shapes august,
And with your lips, white more with scorn than death,
Renounce him for your son!

Ban.
Come, the king's business must be cared for now.
Those stand without, who, till the troops arrive,
Will be your guard in the castle.

Arth.
I am ready.

Fel.
But not alone. There's yet one comfort, love—
That I can knit my fate so close with thine,
No hand shall rend them. We await our doom.
Ay, ours! If he be guilty, I partake
His glorious crime!

Arth.
Felicia!

Fel.
I concealed him
Within these walls to save his life. I failed,
I triumph now, for I shall share his death!

[Casts herself on Arthur's neck.
Arth.
What hast thou said?

Ban.
I would it were unspoken.
I meant not ill to her; but for this deed
The law exacts its due.
[Goes up and signals. Several Officers enter; at a sign from Officers, Arthur and Felicia, followed by Matthew, go up towards door.]
Conduct them hence.

Reves.
[As if awaking from stupor.]
No, wretch! I'll save them—save—

[Felicia, ascending steps towards door, turns and looks earnestly at Revesdale; all go out but Revesdale, who stands awhile dumb and motionless; then, with a cry, falls prostrate.