University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The Abbey Garden at Sawley. Enter, from opposite sides, Roddam and Cathleen.
RODDAM.
Cathleen, I'm doubly glad—glad to escape
From all the stir and revelry within,
And glad to meet with you.

CATHLEEN.
I, too, rejoice
To make a brief escape from sighs and tears.

RODDAM.
From sighs and tears! What mean you, sweet Cathleen?

CATHLEEN.
Some matter of deep import, and unmeet
For ear that's less than noble, passes now
Between the Ladies in their secret chamber,
Which wets the Percy's cheek, and stamps concern
Upon the Fenwick's brow.

RODDAM.
A mystery!

CATHLEEN.
Which Time may solve or not, as best he likes;
I pry not into it.

RODDAM.
It will not change
Our purposed route, I hope?

CATHLEEN.
No; that is fixed.
We visit some wild scenes of lake and crag,
That bear the liquid name of Malhamdale.

RODDAM.
I'm glad of it; I would not waste my time
In these dull walls.

CATHLEEN.
Dull! spoke you not just now
Of revelry?

RODDAM.
O, Revelry hath ta'en
Devotion's seat, and pranks it gloriously—
'Twere a rich scene for eye that's fond of such.
At one end of the long Refectory
Sits the Lord Abbot, jovial as the chief
Of some proud hunting-feast. On either hand,
Our knights and nobles quaff the grape's high juice,
And high affairs discuss. Transverse from these,
An ample board extends its crowded length,
Where page and groom, where monk and sacristan,
On humbler cheer regale. Apart from all,
A choir of Minstrels touch the harp, or sing,
At every pause of revelry.

CATHLEEN.
All this,
And Roddam talk of dulness!

RODDAM.
O Cathleen,
Where thou art not, 'tis dull; and, in my mind,
The merrier the duller.

CATHLEEN.
That's a riddle.

RODDAM.
Which Love may soon expound. From yonder crowd
My spirit fled to thee, and left me set
Still as the sculptured Saint upon the wall,
That with the same cold and unaltered mien
Looks down upon the banquet.

CATHLEEN.
And when you
Sat thus, in fixed abstraction, what might be
The business of your spirit?

RODDAM.
Said I not
It was with thee? It was; and then it flew
But, mind, it bore thee with it—to a scene
Thou knowest well! Tower, wood, and glen, at hand,
And Cheviot in the distance.

CATHLEEN.
That description
Can suit but Roddam with its woodland dell.

RODDAM.
Right. On the dell's green verge arose a Bower,
Moss-lined, and roofed with heather. There we sat,
While into it looked the mild setting sun,
And all the music of the Spring waked round it!

CATHLEEN.
'Twas a sweet vision!

RODDAM.
Yes; but, love, I had
A previous one, which gave propriety
To it—a vision of a little Church
On Beaumont Side, where thou and I did join,
With talismanic ring, the magic chain,
Viewless but felt, connecting heart with heart,
Made by the artist—Love!

CATHLEEN.
Alas, my Roddam—
What have I said!

RODDAM.
What thou shouldst ever say,
My Roddam! Never sounded in mine ear
My name so sweetly. Call me so all night,
And I will listen till the morning break,
And ask thee still to say it!

CATHLEEN.
Doubting not
Thy love and faith, I will not call it back;
Though it might seem too—

RODDAM.
Forward, thou wouldst say;
But dream not that I think it so, Cathleen.
I marked with rapture kindness in thine eye,
Long ere thy tongue confessed it. But it seemed
The exclamation had a tone of sadness,
As well as of affection in it; why
Was this, Cathleen?

CATHLEEN.
I heard thy sunny visions,
And thought how different mine were. Thou wilt smile
To hear that my strange dream of yesternight
Still hangs upon my spirits, like an omen
Of some unguessed calamity.

RODDAM.
Come, love;
We will have nothing sad to mar the pleasure
Of this bright hour. I know a freer walk
Beside yon river. Let us thither, love!
Lost in a brief delusion, we shall fancy
We stray—as wont—on Beaumont's pastoral banks,
And that the murmurs of this southern stream
Are those of Beaumont o'er her pebbled bed!

CATHLEEN
(sings).

[Exeunt.