 | The Patrician's Daughter |  |
SCENE II.
Library as before.Earl of Lynterne, Mordaunt, Heartwell, Lister, Colville, Deancourt, Pierpoint, Lady Lydia, Lady Mabel, Lord and Lady Chatterly, Sir Archer and Lady Taunton, and other Wedding Guests, with Solicitor, enter and take places.
Earl.
Good friends, assembled here to confer honour
Upon the near espousals, I beseech
Your kind attention while this gentleman
Reads in your hearing the accustomed deed
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Of such as stand affianced.
[Solicitor is about to rise.
Mor.
[Rising.]
My Lord Lynterne,
And guests who grace us with your presence here,
I've that to say, which 'twere unseasonable
To broach at any later stage than this.
Deem you not me much honoured, who have sprung
From lineage obscure, in this alliance
With a most noble lady, who can trace
An ancestry which from the Conqueror's time
Has never mingled blood with churl's before?
Lyd.
[Aside.]
What frantic scheme has this man now to compass?—
You're modest, sir, and underrate your birth.
Mor.
Not so. My father was a man of toil;
I mean real toil, such toil as makes the hand
Uncouth to sight, coarse, hard to the touch;
There are none here who would have clasped that hand
Save at our borough contests, when all fingers
Grew marvellously pliant.
Lyd.
Well this frankness
Becomes a noble mind! How great it is
To rise by our desert from lowliness,
And blush not at its memory!
Omnes.
Most noble!
Dean.
[To Heartwell apart.]
I understand not this.
Heart.
There's meaning in it.
Mor.
You would do honour then, good friends, to him
Who from obscurity should win his way
To eminence and power?
Lord C.
Such men adorn their country!
Sir A.
Their merit
Transcends all praise!
Lyd.
They are earth's master spirits!
Mor.
Then had you known one such in his first years
Of effort, you had aided him—at least,
Given him encouragement, showed him respect?
Lady C.
Respect most due!
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Decidedly! Who doubts it?
Mor.
You had been just, and had not plotted then
Against his peace, nor baited with such smiles
As the heart loves to feed on, the dire poison
Of wanton, causeless scorn?
Lyd.
Why ask them this, knowing that they would not?
Lady C.
Who would be guilty of such crime?
Lady T.
Oh, no one!
Mor.
But did such live, what should be their desert?
Earl.
You trespass, sir, too much upon the time
Of this high company. Methinks 'twere well
The lawyer should proceed.
Mor.
I am indifferent.
Earl.
Mean you to wed my daughter?
Mor.
[Turning fiercely on him.]
No!
[All rise in surprise.
Pier.
Malignant viper! you shall dearly pay
The debt of this disgrace.
Mor.
Yet hold awhile.
If you accuse me, grant me the same rights
That all accused enjoy. Hear my defence!
That over, I will bide whatever shape
Your anger wills to take.
Earl.
Begone, sir!—leave us, while contempt stills wrath.
Mab.
I do beseech you hear him. I am curious
To learn what sins of my commission urged
To deed so pitiful. If I had wronged—
Lord C.
Even then it was most pitiful revenge.
Lady C.
Most pitiful retort!
Lady T.
Most infamous!
Lyd.
But still consistent with his character?
Chorus of Voices.
Oh yes, yes, yes! With his—past doubt!
Mor.
Why, see now,
How much your expectations mock your acts!
You sow the heart with bitterness, and marvel
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Is what you give man, and the angel's meekness
Is what you demand from him! 'Tis five years
Since this same Lady Mabel lured my soul
With such soft phrases and such winning words
As only leave the words “I love” unsaid.
'Twas not my vanity that thus construed
These signs of tenderness. The Lady Lydia
Noted their import; duped me with feigned proofs,
To think my love returned—
Pier.
Audacious!
Lyd.
[Scornfully.]
Hear him!
Mor.
Deluded thus, I straightway sought the Earl,
Entreated his permission to be ranked
As Lady Mabel's suitor; when it pleased her
Smilingly to admit that she had toyed
With me, to while away an idle hour.
I hasted home. In a few days the tale
Of my crushed love was blazoned to the world!
A proud heart's honest passion woke to life,
By specious smiles and studied blandishments,
But to be trampled on—the deep excess
Of passionate devotion—charm of day,
And dream of night, and hope of life—it was—
It was all this to me—blown, published, chorused
In the quick ear of scoffers! This low churl,
This foiled plebeian aspirant, supplied
Mirth for a thousand jesters. What presumption
In him to love thus! Mark! Years passed; that churl
Rose to power's summit. From his arms still shrank
The loved one of his youth. A father's law
Now forced her struggling hand, and bade him take
The victim, where he once had hoped the wife!
Pier.
No more, I say!
Mor.
For once be men and women.
Have you loved ever? known what 'tis to stake
Your heart's whole capital of blessedness
Upon one die, the chance of love returned?
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And hear scorn's pack pursue you; cheered by those
Who tempted but to ruin? “Stay,” you cry;
“Your case is changed since then!” By what? “Success.”
Success! I cast it off. [To Lady Lydia and the Earl.]
Madam—my lord
Here in your stately halls; here where your robes
Of blazoned memories thickly fold you in;
I stand—God's common work, a naked heart—
To say, the prize that lured, then scorned my love,
I scorn to take in barter for success!
Earl.
Enough, sir! You have had your vengeance. Hence!
Mor.
I have not sought for vengeance in this act.
My life, my energies, my talents, all
Were meant for nobler uses than belong
To a mere private feud; but I have fought
A battle for high principles, and taught
Convention, when it dares to tread down man,
Man shall arise in turn and tread it down!
As for this lady—she has never loved me,
Nor have I lately sought to win her love;
I would not wreak on her such wretchedness
As she caused me for pastime. I have done.
My errand is fulfilled.
[Going.
Pier.
You go not thus!
Mab.
[Rushing forward and arresting him with great agitation.]
Upon your life,
Injure him not! Stir not a step I say!
[Mordaunt regards her earnestly.
He is not worthy of it.
[Mordaunt goes out followed by Heartwell and Deancourt.
[In the interval between the Fourth and Fifth Acts the season changes from Summer to Autumn.]
| The Patrician's Daughter | |