University of Virginia Library

Scene V.—Noon. An apartment in the Castle. Orval, Muriel, and a Physician.
Orval.
All science hitherto has fail'd. In you
Is my last hope.

Physician.
Your lordship's confidence
Honours me much.

Orval.
Speak to him, Muriel.
Explain to him thy sensations, child.

Muriel.
I neither
Can recognize you, Father, nor this gentleman.
Sparks of bright fire entangled in black webs
Before my eyes seem to be passing ever.
Sometimes it seems a crawling of black snakes
With glittering spots that sparkle as they glide
Into a twisted globe of dusky coils;
Sometimes a golden cloud: then the cloud opens,
Breaks into sparks, stains, and soft colours, and all
Once more is darkness. But I feel no pain.

Physician.
Come hither, little lord. What is his age?

Orval.
Twixt ten years and eleven.

Doctor.
Turn this way,
To the window . . so, my boy.

Orval.
Well, Doctor?

Physician.
Well,
The eyelids are quite healthy. All the white
O' the eye is clear. The veins are not surcharged.
The nerves are sound, too. Have no fear, young sir.
We soon shall cure you. (To Orval):
Not a hope, my lord!
The pupil is insensible to light.
Complete paralysis of the optic nerve!

Muriel.
All's dark around me. Utterly dark.

Orval.
Alas!
Those sightless orbs are staring at the sun.

Muriel.
I can see better when I close my eyes.

Physician.
The mind has wasted, here, the body's force.
You must beware of catalepsy.

Orval.
Anything
You please . . . the half o' my fortune . . . all of it . . .
If you but cure my son!

Physician.
Science, my lord,
Has no capacity to compensate
Nature's defeat. We can do nothing here.
My duty to your lordship. I've a case
Of cataract in the neighbourhood . . .

Orval.
Stay, sir,
For mercy's sake . . . as you are a Christian man . .
Leave us not thus! Wait! wait! examine further.

Physician.
Perhaps it might be interesting to you
To know the name of this disease . . .

Orval.
No hope, then?
Indeed no hope? Indeed?

Physician.
'Tis amaurosis. (Exit.)

Orval
(embracing his son).
But thou see'st yet, my child—my hope—my all!
A little yet? Muriel, a little?

Muriel.
I can
Hear thy voice only, Father.

Orval.
Muriel,
Turn to the window. Look! the day is clear,
The sun shines bright.

Muriel.
I see, as though it were,
A multitude of changing shapes that swim
Fast, fast, between the eyelid and the eye.
I seem to recognize amongst them things
I knew once—places I have seen—and scraps
Of books that I have read.

Orval.
Then thou seest yet?
Muriel, thou seest yet? the blind see not, boy.
But thou seest . .

Muriel.
With my mind's eyes, Father, yes.

Orval
(kneeling).
Great Spirit, that dwellest in eternal light,
Illumine those dark eyes . . . .
(Starting up.)
Tush! 'tis in vain.
Whom do I kneel to? For no prayers of mine
Are pathways to God's presence.

A Voice behind.
Thankless one,
Thy son is now a poet. Be satisfied.