 | A Life's Ransom |  |
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ACT I.
SCENE I.
Grounds in front of Revesdale Castle. The front of the Castle occupies the back of the stage.Richard Frampton discovered, leaning thoughtfully on a gun. Giles and group of Peasants and Retainers of Lord Revesdale rush on and surround Richard.
Peas.
Here's Master Frampton!
Retain.
Master Richard Frampton!
He'll tell us all.
Enter Alice.
Alice.
What, Richard! my son, Richard!
[She makes her way through the group to Frampton.
Rich.
So, so, mother!
Alice.
It can't be true—I won't believe 'tis true;
My young lord sell his lands—sell Revesdale Park!
Giles.
The castle, too—old almost as the earth
On which it stands, and which, since it has stood,
Never owned man for master but a Revesdale!
Rich.
Ay, lands and castle, all must go!
Alice.
Why must?
Rich.
Because the king won't pay his debts—vast sums
By our late master, brave Lord Godfrey, raised
To help the first King Charles, who perished, leaving
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Who put Lord Godfrey off with promised payment,
Till in one month both prince and subject died.
King James, his brother's heir, sat on his throne;
My master's heir was beggared!
Giles.
But King James
Will give my lord his rights?
Rich.
King James but chid him
For thrusting in his need 'midst public cares;
So sent him with his sister home to ruin.
Giles.
Our young Lord Basil—open hand that ne'er
Forgot the poor!
Alice.
Ay, sirs, and his sweet sister,
Lady Felicia, whom but to look on
Were cure for evil!
Giles.
Talking of evil, look!
[Points off.
Rich.
His worship, Master Bancroft! 'Tis his cousin,
Living abroad, to whom my lord's estate
Stands pledged, to satisfy whose strict demand
It must be sold; so wills our magistrate.
Giles.
Magistrate, 'sooth! 'Twas more brute's deed than man's
To hunt to death by scores, as Bancroft did,
The poor mistaken souls who rose with Monmouth.
Alice.
So said my lord and young Squire Ringwood.
Giles.
All
To gain promotion! Magistrate, indeed!
Bloodhound!
Rich.
Hush, hush! he's here.
Giles and Peas.
Who cares?
Enter Bancroft. All shrink back except Richard.
Ban.
Well, friend, can I see your master? [Richard, who polishes his gun-stock vigorously, makes no reply.]
D'ye hear?
Your master, knave, I say! [Advancing to him.]
Have you no answer?
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Oh, it's to me you speak?
Ban.
You knew it!
Rich.
No;
You called me friend, which I am not; then knave,
Which I am not, not being your worship's friend.
My master's in discourse; if you would see him,
You can wait his leisure, or return. [A murmur of approbation from the group.]
To your tasks!
Alice.
We'll bear your love and duty to my lady.
[Peasants and Retainers go out; then Alice, Richard, and Giles.
Ban.
Bloodhound! My zeal that brought the rogues to justice,
Who leagued with Monmouth's duke against King James,
Has won me this new christening. Arthur Ringwood!
You taught the mob to hate me—taught this proud
And ruined lord, who now lies in my power—
Thanks to my cousin's mortgage—thus to brand me.
Shall I forget how at a public feast,
Laying, in talk, my hand upon his arm,
Roughly the youngster shook me off? Said he,
“I like not, sir, to bear the soil of dust
Upon my coat, far less the soil of blood!”
Shall I forget how all men at those words
Shrank from me as contagion? how my equals
Have shunned me since—a man proscribed and shunned—
A social leper? 'Tis his new command
In the militia that still foils my plans.
He little deems the appointment was but given,
That, should his schemes be treasonous, they might
The better be observed, and he entrapped.
Bloodhound! I'll earn my name—swift, keen, untiring!
Though, from loose gossip, I suspect young Ringwood
Shared Monmouth's treason, was in arms for him,
And that Lord Revesdale knows it. [Looking off.]
Ah, 'tis Ringwood
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'Slife! his arm's free with her! The hound's in ambush.
[He retires through the door of Castle, and stands concealed.
Enter Matthew Ringwood, followed by Arthur Ringwood and Felicia Revesdale.
Mat.
[Laughing to himself.]
And she answered yes, so soon! Ha, ha! that boy
Has the world at his fingers' ends! To fight or argue,
Discuss affairs of state, or win a woman—
All's the same to him. [To Arthur.]
Pooh, sir! she repents,
And droops her head.
Arth.
You broke so suddenly
Upon our conference—
Mat.
O, conference!
What two young hearts, masking for years with friendship,
Can't fling aside their vizards, and display
The honest love behind them, but it needs
A conference, does it?
Arth.
'Twas her very friendship,
Frank, like a sister's, made me doubt till now
Love's deeper spring beneath.
Mat.
And what says the daughter
Of those grim Normans to the rich brewer's grandson?
Fel.
That when she looks on him, she has no thought
To spare for grandsires.
Mat.
Tut! How this news
Will surprise Basil!
Arth.
Yes; his recent absence,
And his reserve since then, have kept my hopes
Strange to him yet.
Fel.
Reserve!
Arth.
When late deposed
From his colonelcy in the militia,
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Rankles his pride, which deems I built advancement
On his disgrace.
Mat.
Yet you but took the office
To curb the cruel licence of the soldiers,
Prompted by Bancroft.
Arth.
I had said as much;
But Basil would not hear me.
Fel.
Bear with him,
My true, kind brother! By the king's injustice,
Soon to be driven from home, forlorn and poor,
Wrong makes him quick and proud.
Arth.
Have we forgot
That to his generous silence and your shelter
I owed my life?
Mat.
And you were strangers then.
Alas! poor Monmouth and that fatal night!
[In a low and cautious tone apart to him, and advancing to the front.
Oft, Arthur, have I rued the chance that threw you,
A peaceful subject, 'midst those hapless rebels!
Arth.
'Twas, as you say, but chance. My horse's path
They crossed, leagues from the field, poor fugitives,
A score to one pursuer! A brace of troopers,
Deaf to their cries, clove down those helpless wretches,
Staggering, unarmed, and famished! What could man,
Who had a heart and sword, do less than I—
Parry the slaughterous blow, and give them time
For flight and life?
Mat.
Ay, lad, till the king's men,
Coming to their comrades' aid, forced you to fly
For your own life. Well that you were disarmed
And masked by twilight. Promise never more
To tempt your fate so.
Arth.
[Gaily.]
Sir, you'd bid me do it,
Did the chance come round. [Felicia advancing, and laying her hand on his arm imploringly.]
You too; you'd never ask
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As to keep down the impulse just or kind
That gives time worth. You'd have me live, I know,
Or long, or brief, a thinking, loving man;
No torpid thing, that only measures time
By the almanac. To feel, to act, is life;
Who wants these lives not, sweet; he only breathes.
Mat.
Here's an oration! Well, 'twas worth the risk
To hear the rogues tramp by, nor guess the traitor
Lurked snugly by Felicia's loyal hearth.
Fel.
[Earnestly.]
My brother knew not that.
Arth.
That you concealed me?
On that point I was silent; 'twas your wish.
But why? I met him with his retinue
At the Castle gate, and told him all my plight.
Fel.
He must not know you passed within our doors.
I kept the knowledge from him, that, if questioned,
He might deny it truly.
Mat.
And so 'scape
The peril you incurred! Oh, wise as noble,
Thou'rt worthy of my boy!
Arth.
And now to Basil.
Fel.
He's held by strangers now.
Mat.
To-morrow, then.
But mind you keep our secret, for I mean
Myself to tell him. 'Twill be brave to thaw
His pride in our warm love. Come, we'll all cheer him
In his harsh lot, and henceforth have one interest,
One home, one heart—perhaps one home indeed,
For there's a grand investment, a rare toy,
In stone that Arthur covets—a—Well, well,
I'll say no more—a new surprise for Basil!
You'll keep your word; remember, now, I tell him.
[Matthew, Arthur, and Felicia go out.
Re-enter Bancroft, from Castle.
Ban.
Plague on the distance and my own dull ears!
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With what did reach me. Sheltered from some risk!
Sheltered by whom? Her brother? Shelter, risk,
Basil was silent! Then the peril lay
In what he knew and told not. So I thought.
Young Ringwood was in arms for the Duke of Monmouth!
This modest squire, too, wooes the fair Felicia,
Which my lord knows not, for he stands aloof.
That wound of the militia which I probed
Will fester, though he hid the sore from me.
To gender hate 'twixt the proud blood of Revesdale
And base-born Ringwood I have striven, will strive;
And from that hate perchance so work my ends
As to sting both; win the king's gratitude
To swell my lands, to lift me into rank.
Sir Richard—Bloodhound! Oh, I must walk to cool!
[He goes out.
SCENE II.
A Gothic library in Revesdale Castle. The room, which is in some confusion, is hung with weapons, portraits, &c. The arms of the Revesdale family are painted on a window, which is partly open, fronting the park. Antique couch at back. Writing table; on it pens, inkstand, parchments, and papers. Antique chairs.Lord Revesdale, Drayton, Miles, and Holme seated at table.
Dray.
What says your lordship?
Reves.
That had I remained
In the militia, wherein, as you say,
My friend displaced me, I had scorned to use
The king's trust 'gainst himself.
Dray.
But the people love you.
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Will leap to horse.
Reves.
I will not rashly peril
Those honest, trusting hearts. As yet I know not
Your plans, your strength, or your associates.
Holme.
You know King James a tyrant to his people,
And your immediate ruin.
Miles.
What can bind you
To him who has left you nothing but a name?
Reves.
My last possession! You'll forgive me, therefore,
If I'm jealous how I risk it.
[All rise.
Miles.
[Aside.]
What a look!
They're well called the proud Revesdales.
Holme.
To the point:
Should William of Nassau set foot in England,
Shall he have aid from you?
Reves.
I'll answer that
When I've your scheme and know my comrades.
Dray.
Ere
We name them, sign this document. [Taking parchment from his breast.]
It prays
Prince William's presence here, to arbitrate
Between the king and his wronged subjects.
Reves.
[Perusing the paper.]
But
Exacts no pledge to arm in the quarrel?
Dray.
None.
Reves.
[Signing it.]
'Tis signed.
[Returns it to Drayton.
Dray.
And here's the list of those who share our venture.
[Gives it.
Reves.
Sir Dudley Ford, Lord Harwood, Langton, Orme.
High names!
Dray.
Meet us an hour hence at my house,
Where those in league assemble. Meantime learn
We're bound by mutual peril. Your subscription
Is treason, and incurs its sentence—death!
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For this you bade me sign, to force my silence
By the base means of fear. I sought to know
By comrades, and I know them. There's your path.
[Pointing to door.
Dray.
Not by that door, an't please you. We require
The screen of the forest. For our late precaution,
Remember danger brooks not ceremony.
In an hour we shall expect you. Friends, to horse!
[Drayton, Miles, and Holme go out by window.
Reves.
[Who paces the room, suddenly stopping short.]
Pshaw, pshaw! Why should it fret me that base hirelings
Ask pledges for my truth? 'Tis not with them
I deal, but with their cause—a righteous protest
Against this tyrant who treads down our laws,
Breaks every kingly oath; in the Church's name
Slays poor schismatics, while himself betrays
The Church to Rome! My wronged and loyal house
Falls from thee, James, in me! I'll join these men,
And for more secrecy afoot.
[He seizes his hat and cloak from chair.
Enter Felicia.
Reves.
[With great tenderness.]
Felicia!
Fel.
Do you go forth?
Reves.
Ay, love, on urgent matters.
Fel.
Urgent! And you've not told them to your sister?
Reves.
Since we were orphans, have I known a joy
You knew not likewise? 'Tis my cares alone
That would be secret.
[Kissing her forehead, and crossing towards door.
Fel.
Stay, I've greetings for you
From Master Ringwood. He would have you count
His heart and home your own.
Reves.
[Bitterly.]
Was Arthur by
To confirm this bounty! [Aside.]
He who flaunts in honours
Stripped from his friend, and so lends countenance
To the court's insult!
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Basil!
Reves.
Girl, that man
Would rise upon our ruin!
Fel.
[Reproachfully.]
Arthur Ringwood!
Reves.
[After a pause.]
I may have been unjust.
Fel.
You were indeed.
Then you'll accept their welcome; you will, Basil?
Are you too proud?
Reves.
What shield has poverty
But pride? In happier days you knew me free
To all of worth, as liberal of kind thoughts
As the day of light. My disk is darkened now!
Let it die out, rather than glimmer on
By the pensioned beams of others!
Fel.
Should you spurn
Those aids from man to man, the loftiest need
To lean on or they fall?
Reves.
The line of Revesdale
May fall; it never leaned.
Fel.
Be not so lost
In pining for past greatness, as to scorn
Life's present blessings! Though the king—
Reves.
My curse
Hunt him to shame as flagrant as the glory
Of our crushed house! May!—O, 'tis brave to war
With these tongue-pellets! I've delayed too long.
[Felicia suddenly intercepts him, and lays her hand on his arm.
Why do you hold me?
Fel.
Basil, you nurse some scheme
Against the king.
Reves.
Wondrous! You're a Cassandra,
And deal in prophecy.
Fel.
Like hers—of danger.
Reves.
Excellent!
Fel.
Is there none?
Reves.
And if there were,
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To bar a brother's path?
Fel.
She does not now,
If duty summons. See, I loose my clasp.
Say thou art called by that which in calm hours
Thy heart counts duty, and I bid thee go,
Though the risk be life.
Reves.
I go, then. It is duty
To guard a people's rights.
Fel.
One moment yet!
Is it the people's rights, or thine own wrongs,
That sway thee most!
Reves.
What matters which?
Fel.
Much, Basil.
Do things in their true names. Take thou thy vengeance,
If it be right, as vengeance; but don't call it
Love for a people's rights.
Reves.
Both may combine.
Fel.
Scarcely. Hate cannot blend with a pure will,
And not corrupt it. Brother, earth has seen
Few patriots. These, if they strove with wrong,
Strove first by reason and by prayers; hast thou?
They knew each sounding of the nation's course;
Dost thou, till late secluded in these walls?
If they did strike, 'twas in extremity,
In grief, at cost of household ties, with yearnings
To sheathe the sword they drew; canst thou so strike?
Reves.
Who lessons me, and dares to preach my duties?
Fel.
[Kneeling.]
Thyself, whose truth and honour in clear seasons
Shone on thy sister's soul, and, kindling there,
Shine back to guide thee now in hours of storm!
Reves.
[After a pause, dropping his cloak.]
You're right, Felicia. I forego this purpose
Till I have pondered well, and asked my heart
If honour prompt it. I'll not take revenge
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He had left me in my wreck!
Fel.
All?
Reves.
[Embracing her.]
No, my sister!
Enter Richard.
Rich.
Your lordship's pardon! Master Bancroft's here,
And much desires to see you.
Reves.
[Aside.]
It must be.
Tell him I come.
[Richard goes out.
Fel.
Bancroft, I never hear
That name without a shudder.
Reves.
Fear not, sweet!
He comes on pressing business—the near sale
Of Revesdale for his cousin's debt.
Fel.
And then?
Reves.
Thou wilt be with me; where thou art is home.
[He passes his arm round her, and conducts her out.
SCENE III.
Grounds in front of Revesdale Castle.Enter Lord Revesdale, followed by Bancroft.
Reves.
Be it so, sir; it is your cousin's right,
His fair undoubted right, to sell my lands.
So must my father's heavy debt be cancelled.
Ban.
My kinsman, so he writes me, needs large sums
For present uses, so the lands must go.
Yet, though I've not much cause to bear you love,
It frets me that your ancient, proud domain
Should pass to strangers.
Reves.
All that's needful else
You will see done.
Ban.
Though if young Ringwood buy it,
'Twill scarcely fall to strangers.
Reves.
Ringwood buy it!
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Has he not broken with you upon this?
Reves.
Never!
Ban.
He might have thought, perhaps, the old Revesdale blood
Would fire at such succession—the brewer's grandson!
Reves.
[With an effort.]
And my friend, sir! He told you his intent?
Ban.
He told my agent. [Jestingly.]
'Tis a foolish thought,
But yet, had proof confirmed the general rumour
Of Ringwood's traitorous aid to the Duke of Monmouth,
He had found a different fate!
Reves.
[Regarding him keenly.]
There are such rumours?
Ban.
[Aside.]
He knows it! Proved, they'd check the aspiring pride
That vaults into your seat.
Reves.
Ay, sir; you've taught us
What the king's mercy is.
Ban.
[Aside.]
You taunt me, do you?
Even to my face? [With feigned merriment.]
You never surely thought
I meant the scaffold? Pshaw! the king's grown lenient.
Most noted traitors 'scape with fine or exile.
Reves.
Such converse, Master Bancroft, as affairs
Demand between us, I would give with patience
To you or any man. Beyond that point
You trespass on my leisure.
Ban.
[Aside.]
Ay, the bloodhound
Is not fit mate for a Revesdale!—As you will.
Again, I say, I bear you little love,
And proffer none. But I respect a house
As old as yours, and hate the parasite
That thrives upon a ruin! [Aside.]
Yes, he flinched!
I stung his ruling passion. Thanks to that,
And to my surly bluntness, which must tell
In time for honesty—I'll mould him yet!
[Bancroft goes out.
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Again he couples Arthur's name with treason!
I must be wary; a chance word or look
Might snare my friend. My friend! who covertly
Plots to be Lord of Revesdale! He'd not steal
So subtly on my track, see me driven forth
From my ancestral home, this native ground
Of my soul as well as body, and then kindle
His holiday taper in the silent halls
Where my torch is grey in ashes!
Enter Felicia, with Richard and Giles.
Fel.
Yes, good friends,
I'll bear your message. [Richard and Giles go out. Felicia advances to Revesdale.]
You're in thought?
Reves.
No, sister!
Fel.
Richard and Giles demand a boon.
Reves.
From me!
What have I left to grant?
Fel.
That where you go
They may go too. They are content for hire
To take what fortune sends; or, unhired, serve you
For your love, that never let them feed like hirelings.
Reves.
[Much moved.]
True friends! I thank and bless them. Age and sickness
Will chill these faithful hearts, and ruined Revesdale
Must let them perish aidless.
Fel.
None so perish
Who trust in Heaven, my brother!
Reves.
You say well,
And I'll not murmur. Though another week
Must see us strangers here—here, where our banner
Flung, like a sunward wing, its mighty shade
O'er a brood of heroes—still I'll think whom Heaven
Has left me in my exile—thee!
Fel.
My bother!
[He embraces her.
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And time shall teach me to endure, forget,
Ay, and hope too! There—I say hope already!
Enter Richard.
Rich.
A letter for your lordship. [Gives it.]
Would it bore
Some news to cheer him!
[He goes out.
Reves.
[Cheerfully.]
We've this comfort, sister,
Our poverty is proof against ill tidings.
[He opens and peruses the letter.
Ah, ah!
Fel.
You're moved!
Reves.
They'll cheat me and die out,
These words of light! O, like the tints of rainbows,
They build heaven's arch on storm, and, being as bright,
Perhaps may vanish like them!
Fel.
What is this?
Reves.
Such joy as almost dazzles me to doubt.
Redemption of our house and wealth, though wealth
I prize but for our house!
Fel.
Is this news sure?
Reves.
I trust so; you might make it sure. It comes
From our best and most tried friend—
Fel.
Dear, kind Lord Norville,
Who pressed your suit at Court?
Reves.
Yes, he has a claim,
He thinks, upon the minister who needs
His special service, and the price he asks
Is justice to his friend!
Fel.
To you! Oh, bless him!
Reves.
That's what he asks for. Bless him, for you can!
This flashed on me at times when you met in London.
Fel.
What flashed upon you, Basil?
Reves.
What he writes
So plainly here—forgive my joy's abruptness—
He loves you, and would wed you.
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Me!—Lord Norville!—
Impossible!
Reves.
Why so? My friend is noble
In heart, mien, birth—
Fel.
I know it!
Reves.
One for whom
You've oft avowed regard, which must, in time,
Ripen to love!
Fel.
[Aside.]
Although I promised silence,
I must reveal my troth to Arthur. Brother,
I cannot wed Lord Norville—
Reves.
Cannot! Pause;
Think what's at stake—the upholding of our line
In honour by his aid! They'll grant his wife—
He writes it—what they might refuse his friend.
Fel.
You talk not like yourself.
Reves.
Myself! Our race
Adjures thee through thy brother!
Fel.
Basil!
Reves.
[Pointing to the Castle.]
Look
On that grey pile, from base to parapet
A fane of glory!—Stone? 'Tis built of deeds,
Compact with hearts' blood; heroes trod its courts
Whose names are histories; voices from its halls
Swept o'er a realm like winds that wake a sea;
A tide of memory richer than the sun
Pours through each loophole, and its very dust
Sown with tradition—glory's fallen seed—
Stirs with the quickening future!
Fel.
Oh, beware!
Such pride tempts Heaven.
Reves.
Heaven made the vale—it sinks;
The peak—it soars. I tell thee, to my frame
Its vital flood's less dear than to my soul
The trust my fathers left. Felicia, think—
The Court against me, not a chance to rise
In war or council, doomed to sordid need
And banishment from hence—as, if you scorn
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Of enterprise or greatness?
Fel.
Brother, greatness
Is of the soul, not fortune. Emulate
The spirit of our sires, but leave to Heaven
The question of their fame.
Enter Bancroft.
Reves.
I ask my sister
For life, or what is dearer, and she deigns me
A homily for answer. [Turning from her, he perceives Bancroft.]
Here again?
[They converse apart from Felicia.
Ban.
My errand's brief. Young Ringwood asks my agent
For an inventory; will you grant it?
Reves.
How?
Ban.
A catalogue of all your movables,
Plate, pictures, suits of armour, family jewels—
No, jewels pass as heirlooms.
Reves.
How? You jest.
Ban.
'Tis natural;
Men like to know the worth of that they buy.
But he wrote in secret, and with emphasis
Forbade that you should know it.
Reves.
Wrote in secret!
Ban.
But as we could not take the inventory
As yet without your licence, I was bound
To let you hear.
Reves.
Such insult! Oh, my ears
Have played me false!
Ban.
Then trust your eyes, and read
His letter to my agent, who waits yonder.
Reves.
In his own hand!
Ban.
'Tis strange! I thought these plans
Bore on his contract for your sister.
Reves.
[Starting, and glancing rapidly at Felicia, who stands apart.]
Hush!
I must hear all!
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You can't be ignorant
Of his suit?
Reves.
His suit—to wed my sister! Such an aim
Had jarred upon my love when most in tune:
But now!—You bear him malice!
Ban.
I don't doat
Either on him or you; but I brook the proud
More easily than the false.
Reves.
[Aside.]
Why should I doubt
This man? Though fierce and violent, he wears
His nature frankly, shows his plain distaste
For me, nor stoops to counterfeit a smoothness,
As would dissemblers.
Ban.
You may think me bitter.
Well, I come of an old stock myself, and like not
Your treacherous upstarts. Let me ask you this:
Who, when you were dismissed from the militia,
Leaped to the vacant post, making your slight
His honour! Prudent friend! Who now by stealth,
Lest your pride wake and thwart him, seeks possession
Of your house and union with your blood, to gild
His base beginnings?
Reves.
Hold! I'll sift your story
But to disprove it. Hither! I'll return
Anon, Felicia. Hither, sir; unfold
This business as we walk.
[Revesdale and Bancroft go out.
Fel.
[Coming forward.]
O bitter strait!
I must be false to love—nay, worse—to conscience,
Or crush my brother's hopes. Alas that pride
Should blight a heart so rich! Most perilous
Is pride to noble natures. Other sins
Stand naked and repel; but pride doth filch
The garb of poetry, and the flawed idol
Shows like a god.
217
Arth.
See! 'tis herself—Felicia!
How still—how mute—how like a living dream
That's conscious of its bliss, and will not stir
Lest motion end it!
Mat.
Dream, forsooth! [Aside.]
He talks
Poetry like the laureate! Dream! Do dreams
Glow with a flush like hers, or do their steps
Come tinkling on men's hearts like hers on thine?
Arth.
[Embracing Felicia.]
My own!
Fel.
Arthur!
Mat.
Is she a dream, lad?
Arth.
How!
There's trouble in thine eye.
Fel.
I'm glad you're come.
Mat.
Not so am I. I'm tired, and want my dinner.
What's dinner to a lover? You that feed
On the dews of violets,—you sleep-walkers
In the realms of fancy, that can take your rest
With open eyes, should pity common folk
That have digestions, and like easy chairs.
Arth.
But where is Basil?
Mat.
Is our secret safe?
Is he yet i' the dark?
Fel.
My friend, my father!
Mat.
Well?
Speak, love!
Fel.
Untoward affairs have vexed my brother.
You'll treat him gently?
Mat.
Gently! Why, how else
But gently should I treat him? I bestow
My boy—than whom a nobler never blessed
A father's heart—upon him for a brother.
Methinks that's gentle.
Arth.
Look where comes my friend!
How rapt in meditation!
218
Mat.
[To Felicia.]
You'll not leave us?
Fel.
[Observing Revesdale closely.]
No, no; 'tis better I remain.
Mat.
[Laughing.]
Draw back;
He's in a trance; perhaps he solves a problem.
[They retire a few steps, unperceived by Revesdale.
Reves.
Woos her in secret, does he? Wastes no breath
To win my sanction, who should thank my luck
That my home and sister please him! Our alliance,
'Tis true, has been held priceless; but this broker
In decayed honours knows that it befits
The needy to be humble. Is't for thee,
Thou climber by the clefts of others' ruin,
My sister has forsworn her happiness,
Foiled my fresh hopes and balked my thirsting heart
Of the fount before it? Not so; my friend Norville
Stays at his seat in Hampshire. I'll set forth
This hour to see him, and so gain delay
For a wiser answer.
[Matthew, Arthur, and Felicia come forward.
Mat.
Save you, noble student!
Have you yet solved your riddle?
Reves.
Sir, you have it.
Arth.
I give you joy! Your hand.
Reves.
'Tis not for sale.
Arth.
For sale!
Mat.
Nay, nay! We're here
To join hands, not deny them. Faith, my lord,
You must clear that clouded brow. I would acquaint you
With my heiress and my new-found daughter!
Reves.
So,
Your daughter. [Aside.]
It goes smoothly!
Mat.
You're amazed.
'Twill crown your wonder when I say how long
219
With her affianced husband there—ay, there!
[Pointing to Arthur and Felicia.
Go, boy, and bless them!
Reves.
Ingrate that I am,
I have no knee to thank you.
Arth.
You'll not mar
Our joy, else perfect? 'Twas but yesterday
I dared to hope—
Reves.
What you must hope no more.
[Restraining himself, and with formal courtesy.
Sir, for the honour you design our house
I thank you, and decline it.
Mat.
What! decline,
My boy! Adversity has turned his brain.
Decline my Arthur!
Arth.
Basil, pardon me.
Your sister's love was her own gift. I stand,
However humble, dignified in this—
That she has chosen me, and girt my life
With her bright zone of love. To yield her, then,
Must be a pang to me—a worse than pang,
A crime, to her. For her sake—
Reves.
[Ironically.]
For her sake!
Arth.
Yes, for her sake, my lord. I do not boast
A storied name. Perchance mine never waved
Embroidered on a flag, or rallied hosts
In the shock of battle. Courts may nothing heed it.
The hind at plough may hear it and plod on,
Nor check his careless whistle. Do you ask
My title, then, in this? 'Tis here—she loves me!
Spite of all want and accident, she loves me,
Finds love that answers hers, finds truth to lean on,
Finds sympathies that feed her root of joy,
And keep it verdant. If I give not these,
I have indeed no claim; but giving them,
My lot grows proud. I am something to myself
If aught to her. I'll not withdraw the faith
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I no more need it.”
Fel.
Never, never, Arthur,
Can she say that! O brother!
Mat.
Stand apart,
My boy, and let them speak.
[Arthur and Matthew retire a few steps.
Reves.
And so you'll blight
My future and your own for a light mood
That dates from yesterday—a whim, a nothing!
Fel.
A nothing! All new life, that struck its fibres
Deep down before it budded! Nothing! Basil,
Earth has a thousand destinies for man;
For us, one—love! Man's massive trunk puts forth
Unnumbered branches; lop them, they renew;
But we who cling around him, severed thence,
Are prostrate once for ever.
Reves.
Credulous girl,
Be warned! What Ringwood seeks in this alliance
Is his advancement, not your love. For this,
Unknown to me, he lured you step by step.
Fel.
Your frenzy speaks!
Reves.
For this, by stealth he traffics
For our domain, as if to seize our eyry
Made him the eagle—does this, and commands
That the knowledge be kept from me!
Fel.
Question him;
He'll explain all.
Reves.
[Ironically.]
To be sure he will! And now,
To save you and those hopes he would eclipse,
Listen! I'm bound for a sudden journey. Ere
I go, decide—a suitor or a brother?
Fel.
[Seizing his hand.]
You cannot mean—
Reves.
Decide at once—renounce him!
Fel.
He has loved me, and I cannot; I have pledged
My love to him, and will not; 'tis your wish
To cast me off, not mine to lose you, brother.
I must be true—I wed him!
[She turns to Arthur and Matthew, who advance.
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Free my hand!
[To Arthur.]
Sir, till your gold gives right to unlock my gates,
You pass them not again. [To Felicia.]
Release me!
Fel.
[Clinging to him.]
Brother!
Reves.
When next we meet, I see thee Norville's wife,
His wife affianced, or a stranger—strange
Thenceforth to sight, thought, love; thy name a sound,
Thy place a void, thy very memory dead!
[He breaks away from Felicia, and rushes out.
Fel.
Bear witness, heart, I had no choice but this!
[She sinks into Arthur's arms.
| A Life's Ransom | |