University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—STATE HALL, WITH THRONES AND COUNCIL-SEATS.
Enter Dunwarro and Marcella.
Dunwarro.
Marcella!

Marcella.
Father!

Dunwarro.
What is it thou hidest?

Marcella.
Nothing; at least 'tis nothing I would hide.

Dunwarro.
What is it then?

Marcella.
A letter from Prince Ferrex.
A noble youth that for his brother hath
Made noble stand, though 'gainst his kingly father.

Dunwarro.
Marcella; 'tis for children to submit.
Thou lovest Porreo, and Prince Ferrex thee;
These motives prompt him; hence he takes the cause
That is his brother's.

Marcella.
Nay—the purest, father.
He leaves me to my liking;—smit by virtue,
He swears to do no wrong, nor see it done.
Hence with the King he deems it meet to plead
That he remove the cloud which banishes
His younger brother from the capital,
Civility, and learning, and the court.

Dunwarro.
The Council soon assembles. Better I
Were pleased, had weightier matter formed the theme
Of argument to-day. A state so rude
As is our Britain should postpone all private
To public needs. We yet lack laws to rule us;
Temples and cities and the ways to them
Cry loud for privilege of sanctuary;
And to the plough that turns the earth to profit
Like honour I would grant. Need, too, there is
Riddance of thieves and robbers were secured,
That peaceful men pass to and fro with safety.

Marcella.
The Prince approaches.

Dunwarro.
And with Hermon too,
His friend. I will but place thee in the gallery
Of the court, where thou mayst hear this trial, daughter—
Then make me ready for an actor in it.

[Exeunt.
Enter Ferrex and Hermon.
Ferrex.
'Tis she! I must not follow!

Hermon.
Wherefore, Prince?

Ferrex.
I may not trust my fortitude of mind,
Nor rush into temptation. Man's resolve,
In presence of her beauty, melts to passion,
And the brave heart dissolves the frosty chains
Wherein it has been bound.

Hermon.
Thou hast resigned her!

Ferrex.
I have performed a painful duty—but
The thing that's right, why 'tis the thing that's right.

Hermon.
But not the most expedient. Thy brother, Porreo,
Thou wouldst recall to court; not knowing how
His presence might divide a father's love,
Leaving thee half of what thou hast now the whole—
If that the half be left thee, since, in this,
Thine opposition to a parent's will
May wake his wrath.

Ferrex.
I fear not, cautious Hermon!
The right is the expedient. There be gods
Who recompense man's deeds. Jove governs not
So laxly his great empire, that the good
Should go without reward.

Hermon.
But how know we
That what seems good to us is so to them?
And, verily—

Ferrex.
Nay, verily—I've weighed
All fairly in the scales; and, to be frank,
Feel reason to expect some gain will fall
To my partaking, for the generous purpose
That holds so even nature's mystic balance,
Not even Dunwarro can assign the motive
That's heavier of the twain!
Enter Eubulus.
Good secretary—
Meet soon the Council?

Eubulus.
Prince, I come to tell thee,
The princes have arrived who should compose it.
There is Staterius, Duke of Albany,
There's Imner, Duke of Loegris, and Rudaucus,
The Duke of Cambria. But Clotyn of Cornwall
Sends word he is too old; nor can his presence
Be needed, since his son, Dunwarro, here,
Can represent him aptly; and besides,
From long acquaintance with his court, hath skill
Transcends his sire's, in local statesmanship.

Ferrex.
Dunwarro? Yes! 'Twas he advised that Porreo
Should to the Duke of Cornwall be despatched,
So nature's error in his realm remote
Might find a veil that polished Trinovant
Refused to furnish. But behold! the King,
My honoured father, with his court and Council.

[Flourish. Enter Albany, Loegris, and Cambria, in attendance on the Queen (Videna) and the King (Gorbudoc). Dunwarro follows behind. The King and Videna ascend the throne, and the Court is arranged on each side of the stage. Ferrex, in the centre, kneels at a distance before the King.]
King.
Princes, whom Heaven has given to me and mine,
For pillars that support the policy
Of Britain, like a temple;—list ye now
To what my son—my first-born and the virtue
Who, when I die, this sceptre well shall wield,
My successor in this improving state—
Hath to propound unto your grave decisions.

Cambria.
O King! I speak for all—that our knit souls
Are lieges to the motions of thine own,
And echo the dread oracle they serve.

King.
Now, princely Ferrex, to this solemn court
Reveal what suit thou hast unto ourself.

Ferrex.
O royal father! pardon let me crave
That not to thee alone, but, in this Council,
I dared appeal. Not that I feared the truth,
But that thou wert a party to the cause,
And wouldst, I knew, in such fair wise acquit
Thy honour, that assembled voices should
Bear witness to its triumph.

King.
Party?—I!—

Ferrex.
I have a brother—

King.
Ha!—

Ferrex.
Boys once we were
Together. I loved him as my mother's son
Should love my mother's son;—and so we grew.
But I was quick of speech, and he was tardy.
'Twas nature's blemish,—true,—a stammering lip,—
And yet no fitting cause for banishment.
To me thou gavest education—means
For profit in the manners of thy court:
Him didst to savage Cornwall send away,
Far, far removed from all appliances
That might amend defect, and make him fit
For princely state,—though he was born to such.

King.
Ferrex! my eldest born! arraign me thus,
In frequent hall, for what, on grave advice,
My royal wisdom ruled?—The unquestioned gods
Less gifts vouchsafed thy brother than to thee,
And wholly some denied him—and, in fine,
Marked him for rustic both in mien and accent.
But it behoves a monarch to heed well
The gloss of custom;—and this infant state
To nourish with a special providence.
For if at all good manners may obtain,
The court must first their garden-soil become,
Whence they transplant themselves, like wind-borne seeds,
To ruder fields, nay, to the common heath.
—Not for injustice to thy brother, sir,
But for the general weal, for social ends,
And what the sage for sacred have pronounced,
Have we removed him for so many years
There where his nature might find kindred solace,
And make him happier than our court could make him,
Our court meanwhile made happier by his absence.

Videna.
My gracious consort! Let not anger ride
On wingèd words against thy noble son—
The generous Ferrex. This, his natural love
For younger Porreo, to my heart speaks home—
The mother can interpret for her son!

King.
Let him speak on. I'll listen patiently.

Ferrex.
Still must I press my suit, and prosecute
The same to a decision. Fair Marcella,
Thy daughter, sage Dunwarro, late arrived
Even from thy father's halls, where Porreo bides,
Can well report that he is not, in sooth,
Unfitted for the state that he was born to.

Dunwarro.
I do confess as much, my sovereign liege!

King.
Disputest my honesty, or my discretion?

Ferrex.
Neither, my royal sire. But time full oft
Is lord of wondrous changes;—sometimes imps
The creeping worm with wings, and what was coarse
In glory arrays, like Iris,—or like Psyche;
So beautiful, that fitting type it were
Of the great soul herself. Thus, on my knee,
Before a father reverently I plead
An injured brother's cause (kneeling).


A Voice Without.
Make way, there! way!
I will have way!

[Enter Porreo (followed by Enyon) flourishing a drawn dagger. He rushes to Ferrex, while kneeling, and points it at his breast.]
Porreo.
Withdraw the unfilial plea!
Or to thy heart, whose will revolts against
A father's will, this poniard I compel.

King.
And who art thou, imperative stranger! thus
Who breakest on the Council of a King,
In guise so rude and sudden? Who art thou?

Videna.
Speak! Tell a mother's heart it doth not lie!
Banished so long—yet—yet—I know, I feel,
Thou art my son!

Porreo.
I am thy son, O Queen!
Thine am I too, dread King! and would approve it
In my obedience ever!

Ferrex.
Thy coming's apt,
And thy bold presence better pleads for thee
Than all the words I've used; and yet, methinks,
Less violent propulsion might have served
Thy need with me, than the close poniard's point
At the warm heart was pleading thy behoof.

Porreo.
Less thine; who mightest to a father's ear
Have privately enforced it; nor even so
Until my wish was known to have it so.

Ferrex.
If it were not, the missive from the Duke
Might have conveyed thy wish; and thereupon
I had withdrawn my suit.

Porreo.
Myself am he—
For when my royal father's couriers came
To Clotyn with his mandate for this Council—
I prayed him to send me, that I might set
Great Gorbudoc at large from this impeachment,
And vindicate his wisdom.

[Videna regards Porreo with marked suspicion.
King
(descending from his throne).
Hither! hither!
Porreo! my son! rebuke thy brother not!
Paternal deities! your pardon now,
That I have Porreo wronged!

[Enyon, on a signal from Porreo, here exit.
Porreo.
Thou hast not wronged him!
In Cornwall's court I found a foster-god,
Who reared another pupil for thy service,
Though hard the task with one so rude as Porreo.

King.
So rude? so civil! this is passing strange—
Pride now is glad in thee, my princely son!
—Now, Ferrex! I will bid thy generous heart
Leap up with joy at the amends I'll make,
Worthy a king, in error who has injured.
Half my dominion I decree to him
North of the Humber—to thyself all south.
Well may ye reign, and spare me further toil,
Who both have shown, as brother and as son,
Such duteous love. In you may peace confide,
Between you the sweet charities commune!

[Ferrex, as if stunned, stands in deep thought.
Videna.
With more than a queen's welcome, princely Porreo!
With all a mother's passion, I receive thee—
My son! my son!—Yet while I am glad, I grieve
That he, thy brother, who thy coming furthered,
Should for his virtue lose what thine has gained.

King.
Nay—'tis ill thought, Videna! trust me, 'tis!
The generous Ferrex deems it not a loss,
But in his brother's gain rejoices so,
His half is double all. I know him well!
Come, Ferrex! come—thy brother's hand in thine!

Porreo.
Brother! I thank thee, now the cause is passed,
And claim thy mercy for my violent humour.
But 'tis our Cornish fashion—so I thank thee!

Ferrex.
And I no churlish welcome give to thee,
Beshrew me if I might. Nor know I now
What is my due, or praise or blame, for deed
Which, if fraternal, was unfilial—
But, an' events interpret Heaven aright,
I fear me, censure only.

Videna.
No, my son!
I read it, as its sybil, and pronounce
That herein it would teach us, virtue looks
To it alone for guerdon, or herself
Hath in herself all the reward she can.

King.
A true conclusion. Let the court break up—
And, after feasting in acknowledgment
Of this great bounty, we will nothing lack
That may our purpose seal right speedily.

[Exeunt.
As Porreo is following, enter Marcella.
Marcella.
Stay! 'tis Marcella sues!

Porreo.
Marcella!

Marcella.
Porreo!

Porreo.
Rejoice, Marcella! thou shalt be a queen.

Marcella.
Only in rightful sway can I rejoice.

Porreo.
Is that not right a royal sire bestows?

Marcella.
Not on a younger son, while lives the elder;
More wrongful, if his life be good and gracious.

Porreo.
By heaven! thou lovest him!

Marcella.
I love him, Porreo,
As thou shouldst love him—as his brethren should!

Porreo.
No more? You're sure of it? It may be so.
Often small sign denotes great cause. At eve,
Look cross the sea, a narrow rim of light,
Along the horizon's edge, implies the moon
Hid somewhere in a cloud.

Marcella.
What hide thy words?

Porreo.
Cursed be the hour you left your grandsire's court!

Marcella.
Thrice bless'd, since thus new virtue I have witnessed!

Porreo.
And I wild ocean from the pensive shore
Have watched, with eyes of one who seeks a wreck!
I felt, when thou wert gone, my vagrant heart
Was as a vessel which had lost its pilot,
And might not weather anger. First time, then,
I thought with pity on the storm-tost man,
Driven to that coast for shelter. Well I knew,
In haunts more polished thou wouldst scorn rude Porreo!

Marcella.
Thou doubtest as thou doatest, still too fiercely.
Now hear a soothing tale. Prince Ferrex loved me—

Porreo.
I guessed as much—

Marcella.
Thou never lovedst me!

Porreo.
I?

Marcella.
Then thou wouldst hear me!

Porreo.
Hear thee, false one? Speak! Speak!

Marcella.
Yes—with tears—and do thou listen gently.
Ignorant how I was in thy heart enshrined,
He saw and loved me. Then I told him all:
How worthy thou—how, by my grandsire's skill,
Accomplished in the arts thy nature shunned—
Then he resolved to right thee; then, with pangs
That tried his nature sorely, to thy claim
Resigned the maid he wooed.

Porreo.
Ignorant I loved thee?
He deemed me all too rude to prize such beauty!
Insolent ignorance! The maid he wooed!
And might have won—but for—I'll prate no more!
Absent, I have never known him as a brother;
Present, what motives me to know him now?

[Exit.
Marcella.
I gasp—I cannot breathe—the horror darkens
On my strong fancy's eye. Do I not know
The Cornish nature well? Inspire me, Heaven,
With swift prevention! Ha! Right welcome, page

Enter Philander.
Philander.
They are at high festal there! The brethren, lady,
Twin-kings, are at the banquet.

Marcella.
I remember—
It peereth from the blank that came upon me!

Philander.
Sweet lady, art thou ill?

Marcella.
Philander, no—
'Tis there, like an imagination shown
In some reflecting clearness; such a shadow
As oft pervades the waters; a strange dream
Mirrored within the visionary mind!
Philander, no. Nay, I am very well,
My pretty page. But I should list, unseen,
To see the banquet thou hast lauded—couldst
Stead me in this?

Philander.
My wit is dull.

Marcella.
Thus grave?

Philander.
Why not? my soft Minerva! Know ye not
Your ladyship's father makes it now the fashion?
Dunwarro sets the style—and the poor wit
Is needed less than ever now at court.
Gross manners are reformed, and the Old Fool
Is growing obsolete with the Old King,
Who, that he may seem young, becomes the new one!

Marcella.
Aye reverently speak of royalty.

Philander.
Royalty! that parts with an iron crown,
When one of gold's a-making?

Marcella
(abstractedly).
One of gold?

Philander
(surprised).
Your ladyship's memory grows like Dordan's folly,
From sympathy—

Marcella.
How's that?

Philander.
Into disuse.
I mean, my lady, that great gift of gold
Duke Clotyn sent with thee from Cornwall hither,
To grace thy presentation at our court.
My Lord Dunwarro counselled straight the king
To have it moulded to a modern crown,
Would better grace his brows than one of iron—
The which to see, thyself this morn did visit
The honest smith, while labouring at his task,
Making it ready for its consecration.

Marcella.
That treasure cast by shipwreck on our coast?
Strange, I forgot it; but now, just now—I
Can think of nothing that has been, intent
On what is, or to be.

Philander.
Of course; the past,
In these reforming times, is the forgotten,
And the new wisdom puts back the old folly.

Marcella.
Not so, pert boy! I need it even now.

Philander.
'Tis at thy service ere the asking.

Marcella.
Come, then,
Philander, thou wilt stead me?

Philander.
Marry, will I!

[Exeunt.