University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

The Tournament. A Pavilion in front of the Area in which are the Lists. If it is not convenient to give a Representation of the Fight, the Scene must be so arranged that the Actors may appear to look down upon the Area in the back of the Stage which is out of the sight of the Audience.
Sweno, Bertha, Agnes, and Attendants.
SWENO.
The eye of day looks cheerly on our meeting,
And the bright bucklers of our helmed knights
Send back his courtesy in gleams of fire.

(flourish.)
BERTHA.
Who rides so proudly with yon cross of red?

SWENO.
'Tis doughty Reynald, and that black devise
Is the known emblem of illustrious Biorn.

(flourish.)
BERTHA.
Mark how they charge! how lance and buckler crash!
The red-cross wins: that sable crest is low.

AGNES.
O father, who is yonder giant champion,
Whose lance seems weightier than a weaver's beam,
He of the eagle-crest?

SWENO.
Harald of the Isles.
A readier knight hath never buckled steel!
And by my faith a noble wooer, Agnes.
I knew not of his presence. This day's prize
Hath drawn a sturdy suitor to the lists,
And our best gallants quail. By heavens, I miss
Their prompt alacrity: strong Harald rides
Round the void lists as victor, undefied,
And not a lance is couch'd.—See!
Shout without.
Ubald! Ubald!

SWENO.
See, how young Ubald dares him to the proof!
His lance is in the rest.
(flourish.)
On, on they rush,
Like the swift whirlwind; they are lost in dust.
By heaven, 'tis proudly done!
(Agnes screams faintly, looking forward with eagerness.)
Shout without.
An Ubald! Ubald!

SWENO.
Why that huge champion of the misty isles
Cumbers a rood of ground.—Right gallant Ubald!
O daughter, thou hast lost a princely bridegroom,
And his broad lands in Orkney. Much I marvel
Who may withstand that dint which unhorsed Harald.

BERTHA.
Lo, where the red-cross gleams!

SWENO.
High-crested Reynald!
If any strength can bide him, it is thine!

(flourish.)
BERTHA.
What ails thee, child? Thy cheek is blanch'd with fear.
Remember, Agnes, of what blood thou comest.

SWENO.
Lightning is not more sudden than their charge.
Saint Mary! they bear them nobly, both unharm'd;
The area shakes beneath them. See! they wheel,
Like two big clouds careering in mid air.
They clash again. O what a shock was there!
The steeds are riderless upon their flanks,
Shiver'd each lance. The sword must win the day.

(The clash of swords is heard.)
BERTHA.
Now heaven defend thee, Ubald! thou hast need
Of all thy prowess.

AGNES.
O his foot hath slipt!
Eternal mercy, save him!

SWENO.
He is up,
He bears him like a lion in the fight.
His blows rain thick as hail.
Shout without.
Hurrah! hurrah!
Ubald, brave Ubald is the victor! Ubald.

(Agnes sinks half faint into the arms of Bertha.)
SWENO.
Our lion-cub has gain'd the day, and nobly.
Shout without.
Ubald! brave Ubald is the victor! Ubald!

[Flourish. Enter UBALD, and other KNIGHTS.]
[Enter UBALD, with his drawn sword in his left hand, and the broken sword of Reynald in his right.]
UBALD.
A boon, a boon, sir! Bid thy seneschal
Cut heronshaw and peacock with this blade,
This boasted dragon-carver from Aleppo!

SWENO.
Ubald, we greet thee with a parent's joy,
The day is thine; but ere we make thee welcome
As our child's suitor, whose abashed cheek
Has changed fear's livery for a brighter color,
Loud proclamation must the trumpet make,
To all, whatever be their rank or station,
Sounding our summons; so they may unfold
The mystery of thy birth, which we deem noble.

[Enter Reynald and others.]
UBALD.
Make proclamation for a leech, my sire!
The conqueror of the east, the sultan-slayer,
Has wrench'd his princely sinew. Faith 'tis well,
Else Ubald had been minced by this rare blade,
As trenchermen cleave larks. Say'st thou not, Reynald?

REYNALD.
False boy, thou didst take vantage of my mercy.
'Twas thy foot slipp'd; and, but I staid mine arm
In pity to thy youth, thou wert not here
To taunt me thus. Thou, when I thought thee shent,
Didst, tygerlike, spring on me unawares,
And that tried falchion snapp'd.

UBALD.
Aye, this strong weapon,
To which the skulls of infidels were paper,
Broke on the boy's arm. O 'twas foully play'd
To deal the blows too fast upon thee, Reynald!
I cry thee pardon. It behoved me wait
Till Reynald had ta'en breath. 'Twas most discourteous;
I should have waited on my bended knee
Thine own good time.

REYNALD.
This is no feud of words;
Thy way of mirth dishonoreth a name
Which brooks no stain. By all the shades of those
Who at life's cost have known me true and loyal,
I do defy thee, Ubald, unto death.
Earth is too narrow for thy spring of pride.

UBALD.
And the nine heavens, my spirit is so buoyant!
Yet deem not, Ubald from thy manly brow
Would pluck the wreath of reputation
By such light speech. I do embrace thy challenge;
But hark ye, Reynald, this morn to arms was given,
Love claims to-morrow.

SWENO.
Sirs, these feuds offend us.
Thou, Agnes, as befits thee, with yon cuirass,
Palm of this trysting, gird victorious Ubald.
Nay, by my knighthood, had I bid thee give
Thyself, a worthier palm, thou couldst not change
The clear complexion of thy natural hue
To brighter vermeil. Agnes, on my troth
I think thou fain wouldst give thy blushing self,
The unsunn'd whiteness of this virgin hand,
A brighter guerdon.
(taking her hand, jestingly.)
Have a care, young trembler!
Perchance, at our citation, mailed Mars
May claim him to his heaven. Have a care, daughter!

(AGNES lifts up the golden cuirass to offer it to UBALD. At that moment the trumpet sounds again. Re-enters MESSENGER hurried.)
SWENO.
What tidings?

MESSENGER.
Noble Sweno, scarce the herald
Had proclamation made, giving loud breath
To the shrill trumpet's brass, when from the crowd
Stepp'd forth a wizzard shape in female guise,
Craving admittance to this lordly presence.

(Flourish. Enter WANDERER, preceded by a Herald.)
WANDERER.
Sweno, I come, obedient to thy hest,
Fate's secret to unravel, which disclosed,
Egress unharm'd I claim for me—and mine.
Than does the fretted gold wherein they lie,
Like living lights in the fringed eyelids chased.

UBALD.
O treason! O base thief, thou hast purloin'd it!

BERTHA.
'Tis like she hath; with sacrilegious hand
Rifling the vault, where lie entomb'd the bones
Of her who gave thee being.

UBALD.
'Tis like?—'tis certain!

SWENO.
Say, woman, in that helpless infant's cradle
What else was found, by no enquiring eye
Save mine and noble Bertha's ever question'd?

WANDERER.
A scroll, whereon these words, in thy mind's tablet
Long since deep graven.—Run not the couplets thus,
Though the last words be from that legend rent?
“The secret piece from this indenture torn
“Was sever'd at the hour this child was borne
“From its proud mother; when they reunite,
“The valiant son shall meet his mother's sight.”
And now I tender to thy judging eye,
Long saved, long cased in gold with precious care,
(taking it out of a small box)
The fragment of that scroll.—See, see!—it fits
The nice indentures of that wavy rent,
Which no art's skill could liken! See the words
Traced by one hand, quaint nature's character!
Comes that untainted scroll from the damp vault
Of charnel-houses? Am I not thy mother?

SWENO.
O past conjecture wondrous! Name his father.

WANDERER.
He has no father! Ask the wandering billows
Of the storm-beaten sea, who made their bosom
Team with the finny myriads! Ask the winds,
Who fill'd their darkling and invisible womb
With blight and pestilence! He has no father.

UBALD.
Dread being! mother not, but fiend, I name thee!
If true the accursed tale, thy child of want,
Safe cradled in the arms of joy and honor,
Why call'st thou now to misery and ruin?
Why dash to earth the wreath, thine art had woven?
Speak, foul witch, speak.

WANDERER.
Betray'd, out-cast, abandoned,
Man's roof has not o'er-shelter'd me; the blast,
Not age, has blanch'd these elf-locks. I have known
Dire want and loneliest savage wanderings.
The fearfullest glens, the tangled precipice,
Have been my lair; the demon of the tempest
My comforter: to sights abhorr'd of men
And fellowship with every cavern's inmate
Use has made me familiar; the gaunt wolf,
The eagle, knows my coming and outgoing,
And in compassion to man's outcast yields
Share of his bloody banquet. Where I roam'd,
The nightdew was my balm, the baleful clouds
My canopy; and, by their sulphurous bolts
Illumed, my rocky threshold gleam'd with splendor
That did outshine the emblazon'd halls of kings.
Nor envied I man's palaces.—But such
Was not fit cradle for weak infancy.
The firm endurance of an injured soul
May smile mid nature's terrors, and even hail
The fiend that nurtures them; but helpless years
Lack milder mother's-milk.

SWENO.
What phrensy then,
Mysterious phantom, say, what hateful purpose
Now, in the prime and summer of its growth,
Strikes down that glorious scion, deck'd with honors,
From this exalted station, where thy fraud
Had safely planted it?

WANDERER.
Look upon me;
Proud mortal, mark this gaunt and abject being;
These skeleton-like limbs and sun-parch'd skin
Which once had bloom and beauty!—See me now
The haggard child of want, and scorn, and wo!
Whose hope is but despair! The very dogs
Howl after me, as if the mouldering grave
Had cast me from its foul abhorred womb
Polluting with my breath the face of heaven.
Sunk as I am, perchance amid the blaze
Of yon gilt banners, girded with the pomp
Of gorgeous chivalry, some bosom shrinks
From inward horror, to whose nightly visions
My lot were paradise. I would not change
These tatter'd garments for your bravery.—
Ubald, awake! If I have dash'd from thee
This cup of joy, drugg'd deep with smiling mischief;
If all the friends of thy proud-budding youth
Drop off from thee, as from the wither'd tree
The worms that fed on it; if glory's course
Rejects thee, offspring of despair and want;
Know, thou hast friends among the wrecks of nature.
O there is joy amid the crashing storm,
When the rack scuds before the rushing winds,
And all is ruin! Where the sea-mew screams
Mid desert caves may be thy nuptial bower;
The howling wolves shall yield thee minstrelsy.
Ha! ha! ha! (She laughs hideously).


SWENO,
(rising.)
Out of my sight, accursed of heaven! away!

WANDERER.
(Withdrawing slowly, with a look and action of threatening and savage contempt.)
The curse of heaven will be soon fulfill'd.

[Exit.
SWENO.
Brave champions, this our joy is turn'd to sadness.
Ubald, we still uphold thee; and thy deeds
Shall win thee rank and reverence and honors:
But such alliance suits not with our bearing;
And we perforce must name, of those whose rank
May make them bold to be our daughter's suitors,
Reynald, though vanquish'd, victor.—Welcome, Reynald!
Child of my heart, come with me.

AGNES.
Ubald! Ubald!