University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—The Town of Fatteconda, in ruins.
Selico discovered, wandering distractedly from L. to R., over the fragments of demolished dwellings, with the mantle of Farulho in his hand.
Sel.
Monsters of blood! I have borne all—yes, all
Without a groan, till now. They've murder'd her!
I'll fly to the foe's camp!—I'll do some deed
Shall strike them all with terror! Oh, my love!
Art thou then gone for ever! By our prophet!
I will have such revenge— [Stumbles.]
Fatigue and hunger
Have made me faint.

[Sinks on the ground, R.
Enter Madiboo, among the ruins, L. U. E.
Mad.
[Calling.]
Ho! Selico!—brother!
[Seeing Selico, and running forward, L.
Now, Mahomet be praised! at last I've found you.
Where have you been these five days, Selico?

Sel.
Plucking out arrows from the lifeless hearts
That lately throbb'd in our companions' bosoms;
Turning the faces of dead friends from earth,
Then pondering upon their ghastly lips
Which, ere the last moon waned, smiled sweetly on us.

Mad.
Fie! this is weekness, Selico: we want you
To help us for our mother.

Sel.
[Wildly.]
Have I one?

Mad.
Have you? Why, Torribal, and you, and I,
Bore her, upon our arms, into the woods,
On the same day that they besieged the town:
And after that you left us. But she lives—

Sel.
Well, 'tis some comfort,—she's lives. Ha, ha!
I have still a mother—yes, she still lives!
I saw her placed in safety, ere I went,
And both my brothers with her.

Mad.
Rise, and collect yourself. I have skulk'd here,
To find, if possible, a little food
Left in the village; and to seek out you.

Sel.
You have gain'd one point, if not the other—
You have found me.

Mad.
Not quite as I could wish;
We need you to assist us, and you seem
Scarce able to assist yourself. Our mother—

Sel.
[Springing from the ground.]
I'll fight for her while I've breath within me!

Mad.
Fight for a dinner, then, and win the battle!
Our implements of husbandry, the gun,
Fish-spear, and tackle, bird-snares, hatchet, arrows,
All that supported us before the war,
Are taken by the enemy: and still
Their camp remains so near our lurking-place,
(A little from the town) we almost fear
To venture out, in search of straggling berries
Our hands may pluck for us—we're famishing!

Sel.
And nothing to support Darina?

Mad.
Nothing;
This day, nor yesterday. The night before,
Food was so scanty, that she would not taste
The little we could get,—till, in her faintness,
We forced it on her.

Sel.
Not taste it!—Why?

Mad.
Each felt the other's want before their own.
She would not eat, fearing to rob her sons,
Nor they because they saw their mother starving.

Sel.
I'll grapple with the lioness, and tear
The fresh kill'd wild goat from her sinewy paws,
Ere she who gave me birth shall die by famine!
I know the spot we fixed my mother in,
I'll fly to succour her.

Mad.
Be cautious, then.
Stragglers, from the Mandingo camp, are prowling
All round our pillaged town. Pray, now, take heed,
Or you may lose your life.

Sel.
My life!—Oh, brother!
I wish that it were gone!

[Going, L.
Mad.
[Catching his arm.]
Stay, Selico!
You must not leave me thus. I dread to ask
What have been your losses in the town?

Sel.
[Distractedly.]
Oh, do not ask me!

Mad.
Look not so wildly—
You harrow me—you wish your life were gone?

Sel.
I do;—but fear not for me; I shall ne'er
Commit self slaughter: the revered Farulho
Taught me religion, and I know my duties.
Wretches who kill themselves, when life's a burden,
Shrink from their fellow men to brave their Maker—
Too tame to soar above the ills of earth,
Too rash to bend to the decrees of Heaven,
They fancy impious weakness resolution,
Scared into courage, the heroic cowards
Grow pusillanimously bold, and forfeit
All earthly ties, both human and divine!

Mad.
Where are Berissa and her father?

Sel.
[Throwing his arms round Madiboo, and sobbing on his neck.]
Dead!—both dead!

Mad.
I'll not believe it!—Selico—
Why, Selico! [Raising him affectionately from his neck.]
Come, come, dear brother—rouse!
Berissa has but fled—fled with her father
To some place of safety. Do not droop, man!
Come, pr'ythee do not!

Sel.
Look upon this mantle!

Mad.
[Starting.]
Well—well, our mother wove it for the priest.

Sel.
I threw it o'er his shoulders in the tent,
Just ere I hoped to wed my destin'd bride.
He—with a smile of soft benevolence
Smoothing the furrows in the face of age—
Vow'd to preserve it—every day to wear it
In token of the wedding and in kindness
To my dear mother; yea, that till he died,
He ne'er would part with it.

Mad.
This is nothing.
The tumult in the town might—

Sel.
[Interrupting him.]
Till to-day,
I could not clear the rubbish from the mosque;
And there, upon the steps—

Mad.
You found the mantle.
Ay, in his flight he dropp'd it—

Sel.
No, no, no!—
I pluck'd it from his headless corpse!

Mad.
Oh, brother!

Sel.
The porch was strew'd with mutilated bodies!
Close to the priest, and headless as himself,
Lay a female's mangled form, whose fingers
Twined in his! Some bridal ornaments,
Like the mantle in the haste of pillage,
Were scatter'd round!—I have them!

Mad.
[Shuddering.]
Not Berissa's?

Sel.
My clay-cold love's.

Mad.
Oh! never tell me so.

Sel.
Will not nature tell you so, my brother?
Beneath the hatchets of their murderers,
The father and his child, in life's last struggle,
Had pressed each other's hand, and death has clinched them.
She was the good man's only tendril. He
The aged vine she clasp'd—the storm was cruel:
The grateful shoot embraced the withering trunk,
And clung there, till they perish'd both together.

Mad.
Selico, I—Remember, we are men!
We must bear up, and—psha! I cannot speak!

[Weeps.
Sel.
You are a kind, kind brother!

Mad.
I trust so—
But there are others, still alive, that love you.
There's Torribal, a little rough, but kindly.
Then our dear mother. Yours are wringing losses,
But you have still some comfort in your family.

Sel.
More misery, as you describe it, now!
A family without a home! a mother,
Dying for want—and sons, in manhood's vigour,
Without the means to help her!

Mad.
The activity
Often required to fight off present ill,
Serves to efface the memory of the past.
We must find methods to support our mother—
Or perish in the search! Go to the wood,
You know the winding?

Sel.
I can trace it.

Mad.
Go!
Leave me a little; I'll soon be with you,—
My strength and spirits are not worn as yours.
Among the ruins of the town, perchance,
I yet may something find to save us all
From famishing. Go, brother—and be careful.

Sel.
[Faintly.]
Assist me to the outskirts—

Mad.
[Supporting him.]
You are faint!

Sel.
I am!—'Tis some time since I tasted food.

Mad.
Cheerly, now! Tut, man! all will yet be well.
Come, Selico—come, come!

[Exit, supporting Selico, over the ruins, L. U. E.