University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

A Vestibule. At the End of it a Tomb.
Erragon, with a drawn Sword.
ERRAGON.
Turn not, upon thy life! inhuman wretch!
Fate hovers o'er thy head. Another blow,
Thou worse than savage! sinks thee to the tomb.
—And yet too honourably would'st thou fall.

Enter Minla.
ERRAGON.
Nay, gentle lady, start not; there's no danger.
Self-preservation drew my vengeance down
On yon relentless ruffian; who, in scorn
Of hospitality's most sacred laws,
Assail'd a ship-wreck'd stranger. My sword's sheath'd;
And thou behold'st a suppliant, who intreats
To know upon what shore a storm hath cast him;
And of whose charity he may implore
Mere sustenance for life.

MINLA.
Thy desperate act
Strikes me with terror, and, didst thou conceive
Thy danger, thee alike would terrify.
But hard necessity, that breaks all bounds,
Extenuates all offence. I mourn thy lot;
And my heart longs to lighten what it mourns.
Know then, poor stranger, that this northern part
Of Caledonia, ridged with rocky hills,
Is Morven called; where Connal rules supreme
In Selma's royal palace!

ERRAGON.
Connal!

MINLA.
Connal,
Whose father's sepulchre thou there behold'st,
The venerable Oscar.

ERRAGON.
Tell me yet—

MINLA.
Nay risk no further parley. Whence thou comest,
I know not. If from Lochlin, as thy vest
And helmet seem to note; fly hence with speed,
Whilst flight is in thy power. The storm that wrecked thee,
Is not more merciless than Morven's king,
To every wretch from thence. Oh! then be warned.

ERRAGON.
Thanks, gracious lady.—Yet, an outcast here,
Roving o'er pathless wilds, may hardly hope
The like fair courtesy he finds in thee.

MINLA.
The rivulet, winding round yon shrub-clad hill,
Close by a cave, within a rifted rock,
Will lead thy steps; whose tenant, should'st thou mention
The name of Minla, will with food supply thee,
And friendly shelter, till thou ventur'st forth,
In midnight's mantle shrouded.

ERRAGON.
For such grace,
Spirits of goodness ever be thy guides,
And fortune thy companion!

[Exit.
MINLA.
Oh, how sorely
Mischance lets fall her hand on this poor sufferer,
To a wide world exposed! Well may it fare,
And prosperously with thee. Whence that noise?
He is beset. Yon baffled ruffian heads
A lawless band; and down the hollow glen
They follow fast upon him. Hapless man!
Thy days, in this inhospitable land,
I fear are number'd.—Mine may number more;
But am I therein happier? Ah, Malvina!
I come to mourn thy lot, from him who feels
An interest there, too tender for my peace,
Thy Everallin. On me, wretched woman!
Colder of comfort than the north wind blows,
Falls every chilling glance. Yet my heart still
Loves thee, Malvina; and my faithful tongue
Shall his kind message bear.

A Door opening, discovers Malvina kneeling at a Sepulchre. Her Virgin advances.
VIRGIN.
What plaintive sounds
Break on the silence of this aweful dome?
Was't Minla's voice I heard?

MINLA.
Led by my love,
I with Malvina came to sympathize.

VIRGIN.
Lo, where she kneels.

MINLA.
How motionless!—ah me!
That bursting groan.

MALVINA.
Hear, venerable Oscar!
Whom every sorrowing heart in Selma mourns,
But chiefly thy sad captive. From the grave
Hear! and thy son's licentious passion quell,
Which hourly wounds her spirit, whom from bondage
Thy gracious goodness promised to release.
Quell it; or let this marble monument
Unfold, and swallow me.

MINLA.
My bleeding heart
Can bear no longer—dearest lady!

MALVINA.
Minla!

MINLA.
Is't of necessity, thy soul should heave
Th'eternal sigh! ah, must Malvina live
Interr'd within the tomb?

MALVINA.
This tomb's my altar,
Th'asylum a dead father lends my virtue,
Against a bold bad son; the sole resource
Of wretchedness, which hope itself forsakes.

MINLA.
Give to the winds these bodings of despair.

MALVINA.
Ye towers of Selma! and thou mournful flood,
Strumon! whose sullen waves gloom round the rock,
Oft have you heard my anguish; heard me weep,
To the pale midnight moon, th'intestine broils,
That from my country drove me on the seas;
Where with brute rage, this royal plunderer
Boarded, and sunk my bark: but not the loss
Of country; not captivity itself;
With its worst horrors, Connal's hateful passion,
Have power to break this heart.

MINLA.
My errand will not,
I fear, bring comfort; kindly as it comes
From the king's brother.

MALVINA.
Generous Everallin?
Oh, how unlike that king? next thee, my Minla,
My best support, whose consolation oft
Has quieted this conflict.

MINLA.
Now no words
He sends of consolation to Malvina.
Dark doubts instead, and dismal apprehensions.
Now he forewarns thee to beware the worst;
For he suspects the worst, A sudden call
T'attend the king prevented his approach;
And he intreats thee not to quit this tomb,
Thy safest sanctuary.

MALVINA.
What sanctuary
Is safe from such a king? he'll force me hence.

MINLA.
His fears won't suffer him. Th'incensed people,
T'avert th'impending curse, would headlong hurl
The tyrant from his throne, who dared such outrage
On a sepulchral monument. Be this
Malvina's comfort.

MALVINA.
For me, there's no comfort.
Ye waves, that bore me towards a friendly port,
Ah, wherefore were you not that hour my grave!
Death I with transport would have clasped, to 'scape
That monster's loathed love. Oh, my kind Minla,
If there's a wretch forlorn of every hope,
Who calls on cruel powers of earth and air,
And longs to give up life; tell her my tale,
And she'll forget to weep her lighter lot.

MINLA.
Grief loves to dwell upon the gloomier side,
Still darkening each distress. The king, thou know'st,
With awful reverence my sire reveres,
Th'instructor of his youth; and how my sire
Venerates Malvina's virtues, her own heart
Wants not my testimony.

MALVINA.
Good Hidallan!
Might friendship's sage and salutary counsel
Afford protection, I were safe in thine.
But three long days have past without his presence.
The king perhaps forbids him to approach?
Thee he may next forbid. Oh, ere that hour,
Thou righteous father of an impious son,
Spirit of Oscar! take me.

[She retires to the tomb.
MINLA.
Go not back.
To thy own tomb, alas, these bursts of woe
Too surely will dispatch thee.

Enter HIDALLAN.
MINLA.
Timely com'st thou,
My honoured sire: see where, the live-long day,
Pondering she sits oe'r the lone sepulchre.
Must her sad tears for ever, ever flow?

HIDALLAN.
I'm not familiar with the powers of fate,
To say how long, but without cause, my child,
Th'unhappy mourner weeps not.

MINLA.
The king cannot,
Bold as he is, profane his father's tomb?

HIDALLAN.
Who shall restrain him? what he will, he can.
And what licentious love may urge his will
To perpetrate, who knows?

MINLA.
But lives there not
(Sure I have heard my father say there lives)
A spark of fire ethereal in the breast,
That makes the spirit shrink appalled at guilt?

HIDALLAN.
Such fire diffused through nature I believe;
But dormant and inactive, it awakes not
At every slight rebuke: the blow must be
Of force, that strikes it from a hardened heart.

MINLA.
And who so fit, with forcible effect,
To strike it, as Hidallan? yes, the duty
Due to his sage preceptor—

HIDALLAN.
Ah, my Minla,
Little will that avail, his towering passions
Bear all before them down with sovereign sway,
Disdainful of controll.

Malvina returns from the tomb.
MALVINA.
That well-known voice
With soothing sound recalls me from the tomb.
Thy gracious visit, what may it import?
Oh say, what to this house of horror draws
The venerable Hidallan!

HIDALLAN.
That sweet aspect,
Those gentle graces, lady, which the gales
Of grief scarce ruffle; nay thy grief itself,
So lovely in the looks of innocence;
These, charming mourner! as they oft have drawn,
Might hither draw me now.—But ah, they do not.
The king—

MALVINA.
My boding bosom!

MINLA.
Speak, oh speak!

MALVINA.
Something, not to be spoken, he hath heard.
I would not hear it. Ah, I dare not hear,
What, like the thunderbolt, would strike me dead.
But would it strike me dead? how joyfully
On the dread tidings should I then repose,
As on the bosom of an only friend,
My weary soul to rest!

HIDALLAN.
The king, Malvina,
Has order'd my attendance at the tomb.
Something untoward has chanced. The darken'd moon,
'Mongst meteors of the night, looks not more gloomy,
Than Connal 'mongst his chiefs. The cause I know not;
Nor could he well express. But sure his breast,
Like ocean's, in the last night's hurricane,
Is tost with tumult.

MALVINA.
Ceaseless may it toss!
Yes, let his guilt, the horror of his guilt,
Become my dread avenger! 'tis the lash
Of conscience, from the power within the soul.

HIDALLAN.
Yet, lady, listen. Suddenly he called
A council; then forbade, and then recalled it.
Abruptly from the hall he broke away:
At once returning as abruptly back,
He bade me wait him here. Then, starting, cried,
Malvina shall be mine!

MALVINA.
The monster! his?
Shall I be his, ye ministering powers of air!
Who, on your dim clouds riding, saw the robber,
In the dread moment I became his captive,
Plunge in my father's breast his murd'rous sword,
And whelm him in the waves?

HIDALLAN.
Unhappy lady!
Ne'er did the tidings of that tragic tale
Reach me till now.

MALVINA.
The tyrant knows it not,
Nor, to this hour, suspects he who I am.
But as thou art too generous, good Hidallan,
To shrink from Virtue's side, howe'er oppressed;
Let not the midnight ruffian twice attempt
To violate my honour. Oh prevent
Our mortal meeting.

HIDALLAN.
He approaches; quell,
If possible, this glow of vehemence.

Enter CONNAL.
CONNAL.
Where are thy smiles, Malvina? those soft smiles,
And winning graces, beauty wears, t'allure
The eye of adoration? Sullen fair!
To lift thee to a lucid orb I came,
And make thee the world's gaze. Whence then those glances
Of cold disdain? Why trembles thy whole frame?

MALVINA.
And wonder'st thou that innocence should tremble?
Wonder, that it should look on thee and live:
On thee, whose words, like pestilential vapours,
Strike all that's good and virtuous.

CONNAL.
Proud woman!
Whom a king's courtesy but makes more proud.
This thy return? my chiefs I had informed,
[to Hidalla.
Would'st thou believe? that she should be my queen.
The feast of shells is spready and thro' the hall,
To the sweet voice of fair Malvina's praise,
A hundred harps are heard. I meant, Hidallan,
Spite of revolting royalty, I meant,
This evening sun should see me wed my slave.

MALVINA.
Let, let it not behold th'unseemly sight.
Not see your royalty abased so low.
No; for some nobler head reserve your crown;
Some nobler heart—

CONNAL.
Presumptuous!

MALVINA.
Scorn, reject me.
I ask no honours; I no peace can feel,
Till far from Morvan—

CONNAL.
And from Morvan far,
Back to thy native nothing should'st thou go;
But that my pride forbids. In thy own spite,
Thou shalt be mine. Prepare the nuptial rites.

MALVINA.
If ever pity touched thee—

CONNAL.
Am I heard?

MALVINA.
The loss of liberty, the drops of anguish,
Wrung from a bleeding heart, I pardon thee.
He heeds me not, inhuman!—Then to thee,
Spirit of Loda! my sole guardian now,
Bursts my sad soul: if at thy stone of power,
I've bent with reverent awe; in clouded thunder,
Rise, terrible shade! and from the monster's grasp,
Save, save thy Erragon's distracted wife!

CONNAL.
The wife of Erragon? recall thy words.

MALVINA.
Impossible. Here, here, they're registered;
Never to be erazed.

CONNAL.
The prince of Sora!
My mortal foe! from whence? what country com'st thou?

MALVINA.
From Inistone.

CONNAL.
Confusion! art thou then
Daughter of that proud chief, who rules the isle,
Morla? who leagues with Sora's haughty prince,
Against my kingdom?

MALVINA.
Morla was my father;
Who died, Barbarian! by the bloody sword
That made me captive.

CONNAL.
Said'st thou? did he bow
His haughty crest to me! thy Erragon,
Had he been there, had shrunk too; but his pride
Shall feel a different downfall.

MINLA.
Ah, she faints,
Beneath the conflict.

Enter an Officer.
OFFICER.
Royal Sir, the vessel,
Driven on the sands, last night, from Locklin comes.
Most, who the storm escaped, are prisoners made.

CONNAL.
To death with every one. Yes, let them fall
A sacrifice for all the blood they've drawn
From Caledonia's sons.

[Exit Officer.
MINLA.
Oh quickly summon
Thy utmost powers; for thou need'st all, Malvina,
At this distressful hour.

CONNAL.
Mark me, Hidallan:
Most heedfully, before the waning moon
Darkens behind Carthmona's tower, give notice
That every rite is done. I've spoke; dispatch.
[Exit Hid.
Meantime do thou with smiles of love, proud woman,
Prepare thee for the nuptials.
[Exit Connal.

MALVINA.
Heard'st thou that?
With smiles of love, prepare me for his nuptials;
Diseases rather let me wed; and love
The terriblest distress.

MINLA.
My anxious spirits,
That vainly would lend comfort, dread the worst.
Wretches like him go on from guilt to guilt,
Till scornful malice laughs at at all remorse.

MALVINA.
Minla, their laugh's a lie; they're cowards here—
Inward misgivings gnaw the ulcer'd heart.
These are the fiends that, in distracted slumbers,
At midnight haunt the man of murder. These
Th'infernal torches flaring in his face.
Prepare me for his nuptials? No; I've sworn.

MINLA.
He knows his power opposeless.

MALVINA.
Dreams he so?
Yet woes wrought up to this stupendous height
May chance to make him shrink.

MINLA.
That fearful smile
The tumult of a tortured spirit speaks.
Like the red flame of lightning, that unfolds
The troubled breast of heaven.

MALVINA.
Fast as thy love
Will speed thee, my kind Minla, to his brother
Haste, and intreat his presence.

MINLA.
Everallin's?

MALVINA.
Instantly, at his father's sepulchre.

MINLA.
Yes; I obey your bidding.

[Exit.
MALVINA.
Yet, alas!
How ineffectual every human aid!
The foreign vessel, driven last night on shore,
Gave me some glimmering hope of an escape;
But Erin brings no tidings of its fate,
Or destination.—Mine comes on apace.
My marriage now is known. This dire extreme
Alone could pluck the secret from my breast;
For, like the grave, the tyrant hates my lord.
Yet am I still his wife, living or dead.
But my heart bodes; unable to survive
His country's loss; and oh, the loss of me;
He followed my poor father; and now lies
Buried, alas! within the billowy deep,
Unseen, unknown. No bard shall chant his fate;
No mossy stone shall rise in his renown.
Oh, miserable thought! Must I then live
Of both bereft? Husband and father both!
This tyrant, dearest Erragon! shall he
Wed thy loved wife? my father's murderer
Pollute his daughter's bed! No, blessed shades!
But how prevent?—has poison lost its power?
Or yon steep crag, that headlong overhangs
Th'unfathom'd flood:

Enter Erin.
MALVINA.
Oh, Erin, art thou come?
Hast thou enquired the state of those poor wretches
Cast on the shore? their vessel, will it again
Venture upon its voyage?

ERIN.
'Tis dashed in pieces.

MALVINA.
Then farewel every hope of an escape!
Oh, I'm the sport of fortune!

ERIN.
All the crew,
Ill fated men, are prisoners. He who found
Shelter in yonder cave, beside the cliff,
Within this hour was seiz'd; and must abide
The lot of all from Lochlin.

MALVINA.
Lochlin! came
The ship from Lochlin! What's the prisoner's name?

ERIN.
His name I could not learn—their chief, no doubt,
For gallantly 'gainst numbers did he fight.
Of some note too and rank; for 'mid th'encounter,
Struck from his head, a burnish'd helmet fell,
Studded with four large gems; and, bold in front,
Towers a young eagle in embroidered gold.

MALVINA.
Fly—fetch it—kneel, intreat them for a moment
To trust it hither.
[Exit Erin.
Should it prove my gift!
My soul dies in my bosom at the thought!
Just such a helmet, with an eagle's form,
Broidered in gold, the work of my own hands,
Bright emblem of himself! when he went forth
To deal his vengeance on the rebel hosts,
I gave to Erragon; my best beloved!
Should it prove that!—Oh, this suspence is death!
Yonder's the cave. Fate drives me on. I'll see it,
Though the dread fight should turn me into stone.

[Exit.