University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

A wild mountain pass, with a bridge swung from one high perpendicular rock to another. The course of a small stream, with its herby margin, seen beneath. Martial music is heard, and a military procession seen at some distance, winding among the rocks, and at length crossing the bridge. Then come the followers of Rasinga in triumph, leading Samarkoon in chains, followed by men bearing a palanquin, and in the rear Rasinga himself, with his principal officers. As he is on the middle of the bridge, Juan De Creda enters below, and calls to him with a loud voice.
Juan.
Rasinga, ho! thou noble chief, Rasinga!

Ras.
(above).
Who calls on me?

Juan.
Dost thou not know my voice?

Ras.
Juan de Creda, is it thou indeed?
Why do I find thee here?

Juan.
Because the power, that rules o'er heaven and earth,
Hath laid its high commission on my soul
Here to arrest thee on thy fatal way.

Ras.
What mean such solemn words?

Juan.
Descend to me, and thou shalt know their meaning.

[Rasinga crosses the bridge and re-appears below.
Ras.
I have obey'd thee, and do bid thee welcome
To this fair land again.—But thou shrinkst back,
Casting on me looks of upbraiding sorrow:
With thee I may not lordly rights assert;
What is thy pleasure?

Juan.
Is he, the prisoner now led before thee,
Loaded with chains, like a vile criminal,
Is he the noble Samarkoon, thy brother?

Ras.
Miscall not by such names that fetter'd villain:
He, who once wore them with fair specious seeming,
Is now extinct to honour, base and treacherous.
The vilest carcass, trampled under foot
By pond'rous elephant, for lawless deeds,
Was ne'er inhabited by soul more worthless.

Juan.
Thy bitter wrath ascribes to his offence
A ten-fold turpitude. Suspect thy judgment.
When two days' thought has communed with thy conscience,
Of all the strong temptations that beset
Unwary youth by potent passions urged,
Thou wilt not pass on him so harsh a censure.

Ras.
When two days' thought! If that he be alive,
And wear a human semblance two days hence,
In the fell serpent's folds, the tiger's paws,
Or earthquake's pitchy crevice, with like speed,
Be my abhorred end!

Juan.
Hold, hold, Rasinga!
The God, in whose high keeping is the fate
Of every mortal man, or prince, or slave,
Hath this behest declared,—that sinful man
Should pardon grant to a repentant brother;
Yea, more than this,—to his repentant enemies.
So God commands: and wilt thou prove rebellious?

Ras.
Ha! hast thou been in heaven since last we met,
To bring from hence this precious message? Truly
Thou speakst as if thou hadst.

Juan.
No, I have found it in my native land,
Within the pages of a sacred book,
Which I and my compatriots do believe
Contains the high revealed will of God.

Ras.
Ha! then those Europeans, whom the sea
Hath cast like fiends upon our eastern shores,
To wrong and spoil and steep the soil with blood,
Are not compatriots of thy book-taught land.
What! dost thou cast thine eyes upon the ground?
The stain of rushing blood is on thy cheek.
If they be so, methinks they have obey'd
That heavenly message sparingly.—Go to!
Tell me no more of this fantastic virtue,—
This mercy and forgiveness. E'en a woman,
A child, a simpleton would laugh to scorn
Such strange unnatural duty.

Juan.
Call it not so till I have told thee further—

[Taking his hand.
Ras.
Detain me not. But that to thee I owe
My life from fatal sickness rescued,—dearly,
Full dearly shouldst thou pay for such presumption.
Let go thy hold!

Juan.
I will not till thou promise,
Before thy vengeful purpose be effected,
To see me once again.

Ras.
I promise then, thou proud and dauntless stranger;
For benefits are traced in my remembrance
With lines as ineffaceable as wrongs.

[Exeunt.