University of Virginia Library

Act V

Scene 1

(Mirandola. A magnificent apartment in Charles Stuart's palace, as in Act First, Scene the First. Enter Charles Stuart and Flora.)
Charles Stuart
Now do mine eyes behold all that my soul
Hath pictured to me in my dreams—infinite perfection in thy form,
Of angel beauty, whom my dying friend,
In the last moments of his parting soul,
Bade me remember.

Flora
Ah, you were his friend.

Charles Stuart
And now thy beauty steals upon me in
The likeness of that being gone. Thou art—
If ever beauty mirrored back in truth,
The likeness of her parentage—thou art
Indeed Macdonald's child. Why do you weep?

Flora
Oh, how my soul could love him, did he live,
Seeing it loves him so now he is dead.

Charles Stuart
I recollect the hour when first my heart
Was stirred to passion by the birth of love;
For when my heart first mixed itself with thine,
And each beat bounding unto each, thy voice
Stole on my raptured soul as soft as if
The spirit of the solitude had sighed.
Man is deluded when he hopes to build
Ambitious temple on unhallowed ground.
He lays his corner stone upon the bones
Of man-made cement by their own dear blood.
The more I see of thee, the more I hate
The vanities of kings.

Flora
How much great good
Could you bestow on man, were you to teach
Them what you know.

Charles Stuart
Had I the power to make
My voice a trumpet for mankind, I would
Arouse the Present to a dignity
Of Self, and make it live in centuries
Of years to come. I would send forth my thoughts
As on eagle wings, through all the dark
Abysmal future where sits raven Time
In silence, on her peaceful years unfledged,
And scatter them to all mankind—where each
Should grow to Liberty's triumphant tree,
And fill the earth with one continuous shade—
Beneath whose oaky boughs forever green,
The generations yet unborn should sit,
And see their present joys in other years,
Fulfilled with prophet's eyes as mine to me.

Flora
What is it makes the vain, ambitious man,
Unsurp the rights of other men?

Charles Stuart
The love
Of power—that bastard offspring of a want
Of something good to do.

Flora
If all men have
Their natural gifts—those gifts which make them men,
They all have natural rights which they should use
Proportioned to those gifts. If they are not
All equal in those several gifts, they have
Enough to make them men, therefore, they all
Profess an equal right—should use that right.

Charles Stuart
One subject of our realm we have to lose.
Poor Madalena, she is sad indeed;
And I am sad to think of her.

Flora
She is;
And takes Sir Ronald's death but ill at heart.

Charles Stuart
I thought if I could only see her wed,
I would be happy for the rest of life.

Flora
You might have known such interest for your sake,
Betrayed ambition to that sake.

Charles Stuart
I did not think
Her aught but what she seemed.

Flora
She acted well
For she deceived Sir Ronald all the while.

Charles Stuart
She lay upon his bosom like the swan
Upon clear waters, while his soul grew white
To image back her form. She was his joy;
And now she dies for Ronald's sake.

Flora
She does,
Singing her own death song, like that same Swan,
Which, matchless, will not seek another love.

Charles Stuart
But she has found her mate—she takes the veil—
And what she could not find on earth, she hopes
To find in Heaven.

Flora
It is most strange, that what
We most desire on earth, to lose it here,
We seek in Heaven.

Charles Stuart
It gives no joy to think
That what we valued here, shall meet us there;
For what is most like Heaven on earth, we hope
To find in Heaven.

Flora
If we profess on earth
That which is most like Heaven, we shall be most
Like Heaven possessing it. If we seek Heaven,
We shall profess the joy of that we seek.

Charles Stuart
In some degree we shall. She goes tonight.
Then will she look her last upon the earth.
The wavy grandeur of the sloping hills,
Which look so beautiful in morning's light,
As if they were the mighty graves of gods—
The rising stepstones to the Deity;
The honest oneness of the verdant fields;
The soft retiring mystery of the vales;
And all the sweet variety of view,
Which once was pleasing to her soul.

Flora
Alas,
How different from her aspect while your Page!

Charles Stuart
Ah, sorrow works sad havoc with the heart!

Flora
But, what if he should come—would she have power
To wed him then?

Charles Stuart
If she should wed High Heaven,
And, after, break that vow for aught on earth,
She would be forfeiting that Heaven.

Flora
Alas!
Is he not all the Heaven she ever sought?
The very Heaven for which she makes the vow?
Then, if she take the veil to seek that Heaven,
To find that Heaven is not to break that vow.

Charles Stuart
By all the ties of contract it is so.

Flora
Ah, that is what the priest would say. As for
Myself, I do not think that aught on earth
Could make me break the vow I made to you.

Charles Stuart
Then why her vow to Heaven?

Flora
Because the vow
She made to Ronald was before the one
She makes to Heaven—the cause of that to Heaven.

Charles Stuart
It is no less a heavenly vow.

Flora
Then she
Can wed him if he come.

Charles Stuart
How is she now?

Flora
No more the Minstrel Boy.

Charles Stuart
Her fate is sad.
Does she not sing?

Flora
Ah, like the dying Swan!
The saddest songs you ever heard. He yet may live
And Hope is better than Despair, if he
Should never come.

Charles Stuart
That is an Angel's truth
And spoken by an Angel. Come, my love,
For as before the rising of the sun,
The mountain's tops are gilded by his beams,
Gladdening the verdant prospect all around,
So does thy soul betoken on thy face
The pleasing sigh of coming good. Come on.

Scene II

A parlour in the convent of Santa Maria della Pieta, as in Act First, Scene Second. Enter Angela and the Madre to Francisco the Monk.)
Angela
Francisco, you are welcome home again.
Where is my son?

Monk
Why did you bar the gates?
Had you not done so, you had seen him long
Ago.

Angela
How is Fernando? Is he well?

Monk
The great enigma must be solved.

Angela
What great
Enigma? Speak! Fernando is not dead?

Monk
That will be known when you have solved this great
Enigma.

Angela
Strange how he can sport with us,
As if Fernando's death were naught to me;
Oh, speak! if he is dead why, tell me so!

Monk
You have the name of that which you have not.
Now, if you solve it, you shall hear if your
Fernando live or not.

Angela
But if not solved—

Monk
You cannot hear.

Angela
Then I can never hear,
For I can solve no riddle like to that;
And, not to know, is but to feel his death.

Madre
You have learned much since you first went away.

Monk
I have learned much, but chief of all that I
Have learned is to believe not what I see,
Nor what I hear.

Angela
Why so?

Monk
Because we see,
And do not see, and hear, and do not hear.

Angela
He speaks in parables.

Monk
I speak in truth.

Madre
What good is truth in such disguise?

Monk
'Tis truth.

Angela
(To Madre)
What can he mean?

Madre
I think he is deranged.

Monk
Had you but seen what I have seen, you had
Been wise.

Angela
What have you seen? Come, tell us that.

Monk
Where is the Prince's daughter? Tell me that.

Angela
She is within.

Monk
Then bring her forth.

Madre
I will.

(Exit.)
Angela
What do you mean by this strange talk?
I pray
You pardon me—I do not mean to tell.

Angela
Why not?
Have you not been to Scotland yet?

Monk
I have.

Angela
And seen Fernando?

Monk
Ay, I have—have not.

Angela
Alas, I know he's dead.

Monk
How know you that?

Angela
You seem to say he is. But here she comes.

(Reenter Madre leading in Madalena.)
Madalena
(Grasping his hand)
Oh, holy father, you have come again!
Speak, where is Fernando? Where is my lord?

Monk
What is thy name?

Madalena
My name? Why ask me that?

Monk
I wish to know.

Madalena
You frighten me.

Monk
You will
Be more frightened than that before you die.
Your name?

Madalena
My name is Madalena? Why?

Monk
You are—yet you are not.

Madalena
He is not dead?
Has he returned?

Monk
He has—yet he has not.

Madalena
Oh, do not grieve me thus! Has he returned?
Where is your father?

Madalena
Dead.

Monk
Your mother?

Madalena
Dead!

Monk
(To Angela)
What think you of this talk?

Angela
It is most strange.
We are mislead; but who shall set us right?

Monk
You heard her say her sire was dead.

Angela
We did.

Monk
That Madalena was her name?

Angela
We did.
We heard all that.

Monk
She is—yet she is not.
She is the Madalena that you have,
But not the Madalena that you seek,
If Stuart's daughter is the one you wish.
She bears the name of her, but that is all.

Angela
It is most strange! The more we see of her,
The more we wish to see, which, seeing, makes
Us only see the less. Nay—speak to me!
Are you not Stuart's daughter?

Madalena
No, he is
No sire of mine.

Angela
But you are like to her,
As if you were the same. Now we can see
Wherein you spoke the truth.

Monk
There are more ways
To speak the truth than one.

Angela
You are most learned.

Monk
This proves that every like is not the same.
Fernando did not go. I was deceived.
'Twas Stuart's daughter went as Page.

Angela
As Page?
What mysteries on mysteries? Then, you have been
To Scotland, all for naught?

Monk
And learned by it,
More than thy son will ever know.

Madalena
Could you
Not tell a woman from a man?

Monk
I have
Seen people worse deceived than that. She drest
Her as a Page and called herself thy son.

Angela
And was her father, too, deceived?

Monk
He was,
Until he came to Boradale, where she
Unsexed herself.

Madalena
Then let me go.

Angela
Nay, stay,
I must inquire about this marriage with
My son.

Monk
And I will seek him in her stead.

Angela
Yes, go (Exit Francisco.)
Was ever mystery like to this?

(Exeunt omnes.)

SCENE III

(Street in Mirandola. Enter Sir Ronald. He perceives a wild swan soaring through the heavens.)
Sir Ronald
Thou art soaring away, beautiful bird,
Upon thy pinions into distant land,
Bathing thy downy bosom's loftiest flight
In welkin zephyrs. Whither art thou borne
From snowy home through heaven's unclouded depths,
As now thy pillowed wings are cleaving heaven?
(Enter Fernando.)
Most noble youth,
You live in Mirandola, do you not?

Fernando
I do. Are you a stranger in this place?

Sir Ronald
I am. You see it by this Highland dress.

Fernando
A Scottish garb? What news from Scotland now?

Sir Ronald
Ah, sad indeed.

Fernando
You tell me that by your looks
The noble Stuart has been beat, they say?

Sir Ronald
Charles Stuart? Do you know that man?

Fernando
I do.
Know you the Prince?

Sir Ronald
I know him well.

Fernando
Were you
A soldier in the war?

Sir Ronald
I was. But know
You not his daughter Madalena?

Fernando
Ah,
That precious name! Call that sweet name again!
It gives me more than joy?

Sir Ronald
(Aside)
What can he mean?
It cannot be that she is false? Ah, no,
She is too pure—too good for that. Are you
Acquainted with that name?

Fernando
The name most dear
To me of all on earth—linked with my joy
In life—my hopes in Heaven.

Sir Ronald
(Aside)
If she is false,
May all the thunderbolts of Heaven descend
Upon me now! Tread mountains into vales,
And overwhelm the sea, ye mighty gods,
If she be false!

Fernando
What is the matter now?
Are you in grief?

Sir Ronald
In grief? What is thy name?

Fernando
Fernando.

Sir Ronald
(Aside)
Gods! the very name she chose
To shrine her from the world! She loved the man,
Or she had chosen not his name! The name
By which I knew her first. I love that name.
He must be noble. Else she had not chosen
His name. It cannot be that she is false!
No, no, it cannot be!—Thy mother's name?

Fernando
Is Angela.

Sir Ronald
The tutoress of her youth.
The one she called her mother, oh, ye Heavens!

Fernando
Why is this changeful mood? Are you in love?

Sir Ronald
(Aside)
He taunts me, conscious of his triumph.—No!
The green oasis of my life is one
Eternal wilderness of wo!

Fernando
The same as mine!
A few short months ago, my hopes were bright;
They led me to the gates of joy where Love
Stood smiling, beckoning me to bliss, when, all
At once, their snowy wings grew dark as night,
And Grief now stands my only comfortor.

Sir Ronald
Has she rejected him? It must be so.
My Madalena is not false. No, no,
I fear we are twin-mated in our grief.

Fernando
Then we can feel each other's loss the more.
The world cannot repay. I was betrothed.

Sir Ronald
But not to Stuart's daughter?

Fernando
No, to one
Most beautiful, as much like her as if
They had been twins.

Sir Ronald
You keep me on the rack—
She is the same!

Fernando
Not so, it is not so.

Sir Ronald
Her name—

Fernando
Is Madalena

Sir Ronald
'Tis the same!

Fernando
It is not so.

Sir Ronald
Where is she now?

Fernando
Ah, lost,
Forever lost! Our wedding day was set;
And on that day, attired, she disappeared,
And no one's eyes have ever seen her since.

Sir Ronald
The embers of aspiring joy begin
To glimmer in my heart again. One ray
Of hope falls on my soul, like that first star
Which gems the pensive brow of even. She is
Not false—no, no—I shall be happy yet.

Fernando
What is thy grief?

Sir Ronald
Is Madalena well?
On this hangs all my joy.

Fernando
I understand
She takes the veil tonight.

Sir Ronald
Tonight, the veil!
Why so?

Fernando
I do not know—some private grief.

Sir Ronald
Now then the withering dew of grief falls on
My bud of joy again. It shall not be!
Where shall I find her? At the Chapel? Speak!

Fernando
I think you will. It is about the hour.

Sir Ronald
Then show me to the chapel—quick!

Fernando
No use—
The gates are locked.

Sir Ronald
Then show me to her house.
Come—do not tarry here. My life is thine.
Why do you linger thus?

Fernando
You are in love.

Sir Ronald
In more than love—my heart is now on fire!
For know, my soul was linked to her by ties
Of undissolving love! As two young plants,
With seeds alike, are grafted into one,
But yield, according to each differing germ,
A different kind of fruit—so were our hearts.
Her absence is the sepulchre of all
My joy!

Fernando
And hers the epitaph of mine.

Sir Ronald
I was a part of every thing that was,
Of which she was the spirit—she the all
Of every part of every thing that was,
To me. But look, Francisco comes!
(Enter Francisco)
My friend!

Monk
What do I see? Are you alive or dead?
The real Ronald, flesh and blood, or are
You, what the rest have been, what you are not!

Sir Ronald
I am just what I am—just what you see.

Monk
Then you are different from the rest of us;
For we are not what we appear to be. (To Fernando.)

Are you a man, a woman, or a ghost?

Fernando
I am much nearer Death than you.

Monk
Were you
That king, himself, I would not be surprised.

Fernando
We are the playthings of our fate! We live,
And die—and thus an end of us.

Monk
We then
Begin to live. We shall exist in truth,
And not as phantasies, as we do here.

Fernando
Look here! What think you of the soul? Is it
A mere traduction from the parent plant?

Monk
No, it was born—born of the breath of God,
So Job affirms.

Fernando
Think you that any thing,
Derived can live forever?

Monk
Ay, it can,
If he who made it, wills it so.

Fernando
Where think
You love was born?

Sir Ronald
Its birthplace is the heart,

Fernando
They say it has no eyes.

Monk
'Tis Argus—eyes;
Of all things felt, not seen, it has most power.

Sir Ronald
It lives through all eternity, which is
The lifetime of Love's God—God's love—
For in the circle of his love it dwells,
A boundless circle in a circle.

Fernando
True—
A circle is the nearest to its form.

Monk
It must be round—it keeps me on the round.

Sir Ronald
Where is the Prince?

Monk
I hope he has not changed,
And if you are Fernando, as you seem,
And not another, I have news for you.

Fernando
There is but one thing that I wish to hear,
And, that is, that my Madalena lives.

Monk
Then you shall hear most joyful news. She lives
Now in the convent awaiting thy return.

Fernando
What, now?

Monk
Even now.

Fernando
Why were the gates kept locked?

Monk
For reasons reasonless—now all explained.

Fernando
Ah, ravish not my heart with too much joy!
But is she well?

Monk
She is most well—but sad—
Expecting thy return so long delayed.
For you, Sir Ronald, you have come in time
To see your Madalena veiled.

Sir Ronald
What is
The hour?

Monk
One hour from this.

Sir Ronald
I thank high Heaven

Fernando
As we were friends in grief, so let us be
In joy.

Sir Ronald
Away, there is no joy for me! (Exit.)


Fernando
Nay, Ronald, stay! You will not find the way!
No, he is gone. Oh, you have filled my heart
With too much joy. Come, we must seek her now.

(Exeunt.)

Scene IV

(The interior of the chapel of the Convent of Santa Maria della Pieta. Charles Stuart, Flora, and his daughter in the attire of a Nun, on the left hand in the foreground of the crowd. The Madre, Angela, and Madalena on the right. The Officials walk to and fro swinging the Censors. A procession enters from the back of the stage, chanting solemn music. The lights of the High Altar are extinguished, but the chapel remains illuminated. As the Priest enters the music ceases.
Priest
(Taking Madalena's hand)
Is it your own free will that you resign
The world?

Madalena
It is.

Priest
Your own free will alone?
Remember, you become the Bride of Heaven.
You are to look no more upon the things
Of earth—you are to be Heaven's bride alone.
If there is any thing you love more than
You do this Heaven, you should not take the veil—
For nothing can absolve you from it then.
Speak, is it so?

Madalena
It is.

Priest
Then, from the brow,
All radiant now with thought, must these dark locks
In rich profusion, now be clipt. Kneel down.

Madalena
(Kneeling)
The sweet little bird of my hope is gone,
Pillowed away up in the peaceful sky
Upon the beautiful wings of his soul!

(As he gathers her locks in his hand to cut them off, Sir Ronald enters.)
Sir Ronald
Hold, hold thy hand! these locks are mine, away!

Madalena
(Rising and embracing him)
Oh, Ronald, Ronald! Is this you?

Sir Ronald
It is.

Madalena
My own dear Ronald! And he lives, he lives!

Sir Ronald
And loves thee still.

Madalena
I know he does, he does!

Charles Stuart
The hand of Providence is here.

Flora
These are
The fruits of love.

Charles Stuart
Now there is joy indeed!

Sir Ronald
Ay, joy of joys! My heart is circumposed
With joy!

Charles Stuart
Now are we kings indeed!

Flora
And queens
My lord.

Madalena
Ay, joyful queens all crowned with love—
Far richer than the Caledonian crown.

Sir Ronald
How have you been?

Madalena
Right sick at heart, but now
Quite well.

Charles Stuart
Now my happiness is complete.

(Enter Francisco, the Monk, Fernando following him.)
Monk
Make way for young Fernando—let him come.

Madalena
(Embracing him)
Fernando, is it you?

Fernando
My own sweet bird!

Madalena
Where have you been?

Fernando
In search of thee!

Charles Stuart
Now, both are one—both mine.

Sir Ronald
(embracing her)
My wife!

Madalena
My king!

Sir Ronald
Oh, if my soul was ever filled with love,
Or ever valued virtue for its sake;
If ever mortal felt immortal joy,
Or drank new pleasure from the cup of bliss,
I feel it now—feel it with all my soul.

(Curtain falls.)