 | The Borderers |  |
Eleanor and Idonea seated.
Idon.
The storm beats hard—Mercy for poor or rich,
Whose heads are shelterless in such a night!
A Voice without.
Holla! to bed, good Folks, within!
Elea.
O save us!
Idon.
What can this mean?
Elea.
Alas, for my poor husband!—
We'll have a counting of our flocks to-morrow;
Be calm, sweet Lady, they are wassailers
[The voices die away in the distance.
Returning from their Feast—my heart beats so—
A noise at midnight does so frighten me.
Idon.
Hush!
[Listening.
Elea.
They are gone. On such a night, my husband,
Dragged from his bed, was cast into a dungeon,
Where, hid from me, he counted many years,
A criminal in no one's eyes but theirs—
Not even in theirs—whose brutal violence
So dealt with him.
Idon.
I have a noble Friend
First among youths of knightly breeding, One
Who lives but to protect the weak or injured.
There again!
[Listening.
Elea.
'Tis my husband's foot. Good Eldred
Has a kind heart; but his imprisonment
Has made him fearful, and he'll never be
The man he was.
Idon.
I will retire;—good night!
[She goes within.
Enter Eldred, (hides a bundle).
Eld.
Not yet in bed, Eleanor!—there are stains
in that frock which must be washed out.
Elea.
What has befallen you?
Eld.
I am belated, and you must know the cause
—
(speaking low)
that is the blood of an unhappy
Man.
Elea.
Oh! we are undone for ever.
Eld.
Heaven forbid that I should lift my hand
against any man. Eleanor, I have shed tears tonight,
and it comforts me to think of it.
Elea.
Where, where is he?
Eld.
I have done him no harm, but—it will
be forgiven me; it would not have been so once.
You have not buried anything? You are
no richer than when you left me?
Eld.
Be at peace; I am innocent.
Elea.
Then God be thanked—
[A short pause; she falls upon his neck.
Eld.
To-night I met with an old Man lying
stretched upon the ground—a sad spectacle: I
raised him up with a hope that we might shelter
and restore him.
Elea.
(as if ready to run).
Where is he? You were not able to bring him all the way with you;
let us return, I can help you.
[Eldred shakes his head.
Eld.
He did not seem to wish for life: as I was
struggling on, by the light of the moon I saw the
stains of blood upon my clothes—he waved his
hand, as if it were all useless; and I let him sink
again to the ground.
Elea.
Oh that I had been by your side!
Eld.
I tell you his hands and his body were cold
—how could I disturb his last moments? he strove
to turn from me as if he wished to settle into sleep.
Elea.
But, for the stains of blood—
Eld.
He must have fallen, I fancy, for his head
was cut; but I think his malady was cold and
hunger.
Elea.
Oh, Eldred, I shall never be able to look
up at this roof in storm or fair but I shall tremble.
Eld.
Is it not enough that my ill stars have kept
me abroad to-night till this hour? I come home,
and this is my comfort!
Elea.
But did he say nothing which might have
set you at ease?
Eld.
I thought he grasped my hand while he
was muttering something about his Child—his
Daughter—
(starting as if he heard a noise).
What
is that?
Elea.
Eldred, you are a father.
God knows what was in my heart, and will
not curse my son for my sake.
Elea.
But you prayed by him? you waited the
hour of his release?
Eld.
The night was wasting fast; I have no
friend; I am spited by the world—his wound
terrified me—if I had brought him along with me,
and he had died in my arms!—I am sure I heard
something breathing—and this chair!
Elea.
Oh, Eldred, you will die alone. You will
have nobody to close your eyes—no hand to grasp
your dying hand—I shall be in my grave. A curse
will attend us all.
Eld.
Have you forgot your own troubles when I
was in the dungeon?
Elea.
And you left him alive?
Eld.
Alive!—the damps of death were upon him
—he could not have survived an hour.
Elea.
In the cold, cold night.
Eld.
(in a savage tone).
Ay, and his head was bare; I suppose you would have had me lend my
bonnet to cover it.—You will never rest till I am
brought to a felon's end.
Elea.
Is there nothing to be done? cannot we go
to the Convent?
Eld.
Ay, and say at once that I murdered him!
Elea.
Eldred, I know that ours is the only house
upon the Waste; let us take heart; this Man may
be rich; and could he be saved by our means, his
gratitude may reward us.
Eld.
'Tis all in vain.
Elea.
But let us make the attempt. This old
Man may have a wife, and he may have children
—let us return to the spot; we may restore him,
and his eyes may yet open upon those that love him.
Eld.
He will never open them more; even when
he spoke to me, he kept them firmly sealed as if he
had been blind.
(rushing out).
It is, it is, my Father—
Eld.
We are betrayed (looking at Idonea).
Elea.
His Daughter!—God have mercy! (turning to Idonea).
Idon.
(sinking down).
Oh! lift me up and carry me to the place.
You are safe; the whole world shall not harm you.
Elea.
This Lady is his Daughter.
Eld.
(moved).
I'll lead you to the spot.
Idon.
(springing up).
Alive!—you heard him breathe? quick, quick—
[Exeunt.
| The Borderers | |