University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A cave, lighted by flaming brands fixed aloft on its rugged sides, and shedding a fierce glaring light down upon the objects below. Lochtarish, Benlora, Glenfadden, with several of the chief vassals of Maclean, are discovered in a recess, formed by projecting rocks, at the bottom of the stage, engaged in earnest discourse, from which they move forward slowly, speaking as they advance.
Loch.
And thus ye see, by strong necessity,
We are compell'd to this.

1st vas.
Perhaps thou'rt right.

Loch.
Sayst thou perhaps? Dost thou not plainly see
That ne'er a man amongst us can securely
His lands possess, or say, “My house is mine,”
While, under tutorage of proud Argyll,
This beauteous sorceress our besotted chief
By soft enchantment holds?
[Laying his hand on the 1st vassal.
My brave Glenore,
What are thy good deserts, that may uphold thee
In favour with a Campbell?—Duncan's blood,
Slain in his boat, with all its dashing oars
Skirting our shore, while that his vaunting piper
The Campbell's triumph play'd? Will this speak for thee?
[Turning to 2d vassal.
And, Thona, what good merit pleadest thou?
The coal-black steed of Clone, thy moonlight plunder,
Ta'en from the spiteful laird, will he, good sooth!
Neigh favour on thee?
[To 3d vassal.
And my valiant Fallen,
Bethink thee well if fair-hair'd Flora's cries
Whom from her native bower by force thou tookst,
Will plead for thee.—And say ye still perhaps—
Perhaps there is necessity?

1st vas.
Strong should it be, Lochtarish; for the act
Is fell and cruel thou wouldst push us to.

Glen.
(to 1st vas.)
Ha, man of mercy! are thy lily hands
From bloody taint unstain'd? What sights were those
Thou look'dst upon in Brunock's burning tower,
When infants through the flames their wailings sent,
And yet unaided perish'd?

Loch.
(soothingly).
Tush, Glenfadden!
Too hasty art thou.
(To the vassals.)
Ye will say, belike,
“Our safety—our existence did demand
Utter extinction of that hold of foes.”
And well ye may.—A like necessity
Compels us now, and yet ye hesitate.

Glen.
Our sighted seers the fun'ral lights have seen,
Not moving onward in the wonted path
On which by friends the peaceful dead are borne,
But hov'ring o'er the heath like countless stars,
Spent and extinguish'd on the very spot
Where first they twinkled. This too well foreshows
Interment of the slain, whose bloody graves
Of the same mould are made on which they fell.

2d vas.
Ha! so indeed! some awful tempest gathers.

1st vas.
What sighted man hath seen it?

Glen.
He whose eye
Can see on northern waves the found'ring bark,
With all her shrieking crew, sink to the deep,
While yet, with gentle winds, on dimpling surge
She sails from port in all her gallant trim:
John of the Isle hath seen it.

Omnes
(starting back).
Then hangs some evil over us.

Glen.
Know ye not
The mermaid hath been heard upon our rocks?

Omnes
(still more alarmed).
Ha! when?

Glen.
Last night, upon the rugged crag
That lifts its dark head through the cloudy smoke
Of dashing billows, near the western cliff.
Sweetly, but sadly, o'er the stilly deep
The passing sound was borne. I need not say
How fatal to our clan that boding sound
Hath ever been.

3d vas.
In faith thou makest me quake.

2d vas.
Some fearful thing hangs o'er us.

1st vas.
If 'tis fated
Our clan before our ancient foe shall fall,
Can we heav'n's will prevent? Why should we then
The Campbells' wrath provoke?

Ben.
(stepping up fiercely to 1st vassal).
Heav'n's will prevent—the Campbells' ire provoke!
Is such base tameness utter'd by the son
Of one, who would into the fiery pit
Of damned fiends have leapt, so that his grasp
Might pull a Campbell with him?
Bastard blood!
Thy father spoke not thus.

Loch.
(soothingly).
Nay, brave Benlora,
He means not as thou thinkst.

Ben.
If heaven decree
Slaughter and ruin for us, come it then!
But let our enemies, close grappled to us,
In deadly strife, their ruin join with ours.
Let corse to corse, upon the bloody heath,
Maclean and Campbell, stiff'ning side by side,
With all the gnashing ecstasy of hate
Upon their ghastly visages impress'd,
Lie horribly!—For ev'ry widow's tear
Shed in our clan, let matron Campbells howl!

Loch.
Indeed, my friends, although too much in ire,
Benlora wisely speaks.—Shall we in truth
Wait for our ruin from a crafty foe,
Who here maintains this keenly watchful spy
In gentle kindness masked?

Glen.
Nor need we fear,
As good Lochtarish hath already urged,
Her death will rouse Argyll. It will be deem'd,
As we shall grace it with all good respect
Of funeral pomp, a natural visitation.

Loch.
Ay, and besides, we'll swear upon the book,
And truly swear, if we are call'd upon,
We have not shed her blood.

Ben.
I like not this.
If ye her life will take, in open day
Let her a public sacrifice be made.
Let the loud trumpet far and near proclaim
Our bloody feast, and at the rousing sound,
Let every clans-man of the hated name
His vengeful weapon clench.—
I like it not, Lochtarish. What we do,
Let it be boldly done.—Why should we slay her?
Let her in shame be from the castle sent;
Which, to her haughty sire, will do, I ween,
Far more despite than taking of her life.—
A feeble woman's life!—I like it not.

[Turning on his heel angrily, and striding to the bottom of the stage.
Loch.
(aside to Glen.)
Go to him, friend, and soothe him to our purpose.
The fiery fool! how madly wild he is!

[Glenfadden goes to the bottom of the stage, and is seen remonstrating, in dumb-show, with Benlora, while Lochtarish speaks to the vassals on the front.
Loch.
My friends, why on each other look ye thus
In gloomy silence? freely speak your thoughts.
Mine have I freely spoken: that advising
Which for the good—nay, I must say existence,
Of this our ancient clan most needful is.
When did Lochtarish ever for himself
A separate 'vantage seek, in which the clan
At large partook not? Am I doubted now?

2d vas.
No, nothing do we doubt thy public zeal.

Loch.
Then is my long experience o' the sudden
To childish folly turn'd?
Thinkst thou, good Thona,
We should beneath this artful mistress live,
Hush'd in deceitful peace, till John of Lorne,
For whom the office of a treacherous spy
She doth right slily manage, with his powers
Shall come upon us? Once ye would have spurn'd
At thoughts so base; but now, when forth I stand
To do what vengeance, safety, nay, existence,
All loudly call for; even as though already
The enemy's baleful influence hung o'er you,
Like quell'd and passive men ye silent stand.

1st vas.
(roused).
Nay, cease, Loctarish! quell'd and passive men
Thou knowst we are not.

Loch.
Yet a woman's life,
And that a treacherous woman, moves you thus.
Bold as your threats of dark revenge have been,
A strong decisive deed appals you now.
Our chieftain's feeble undetermined spirit
Infects you all: ye dare not stand by me.

Omnes.
We dare not, sayst thou?

Loch.
Dare not, will I say!
Well spoke the jeering Camerons, I trow,
As past their fishing boats our vessel steer'd,
When with push'd lip, and finger pointing thus,
They call'd our crew the Campbell-cow'd Macleans.

Omnes
(roused fiercely).
The Campbell-cow'd Macleans!

2d vas.
Infernal devils!
Dare they to call us so?

Loch.
Ay, by my truth!
Nor think that from the Camerons alone
Ye will such greeting have, if back ye shrink,
And stand not by me now.

Omnes
(eagerly).
We'll stand!—We'll stand!

2d vas.
Tempt us not more. There's ne'er a man of us
That will not back thee boldly.

Loch.
Ay, indeed?
Now are ye men! Give me your hands to this.
[They all give him their hands.
Now am I satisfied.
[Looking off the stage.
The chief approaches.
Ye'know full well the spirit of the man
That we must deal withal; therefore be bold.

Omnes.
Mistrust us not.

Enter Maclean, who advances to the middle of the stage, while Lochtarish, Benlora, Glenfadden, and all the other vassals gather round him with stern determined looks. A pause; Maclean eyeing them all round with inquisitive anxiety.
Mac.
A goodly meeting at this hour convened.
[A sullen pause.
Benlora; Thona; Allen of Glenore;
And all of you, our first and bravest kinsmen;
What mystery in this sullen silence is?
Hangs any threaten'd evil o'er the clan?

Ben.
Yes, chieftain; evil, that doth make the blood
Within your grey-hair'd warriors' veins to burn,
And their brogued feet to spurn the ground that bears them.

Loch.
Evil, that soon will wrap your tower in flames,
Your ditches fill with blood, and carrion birds
Glut with the butcher'd corses of your slain.

Glen.
Ay; evil, that doth make the hoary locks
Of sighted men around their age-worn scalps
Like quicken'd points of crackling flame to rise;
Their teeth to grind, and strained eye-balls roll
In fitful frenzy, at the horrid things,
In terrible array before them raised.

1st vas.
The mermaid hath been heard upon our rocks:
The fatal song of waves.

Glen.
The northern deep
Is heard with distant moanings from our coast,
Uttering the dismal bodeful sounds of death.

2d vas.
The funeral lights have shone upon our heath,
Marking in countless groups the graves of thousands.

Ben.
Yea, chief; and sounds like to thy father's voice
Have from the sacred mould wherein he lies,
At dead of night, by wakeful men been heard
Three times distinctly.
[Turning to Glenfadden.
Saidst thou not thrice?

Glen.
Yes; three times heard distinctly.

Mac.
Ye much amaze me, friends.—Such things have been?

Loch.
Yea, chief; and thinkst thou we may lightly deem
Of coming ills, by signs like these forewarn'd?

Mac.
Then an it be, high heav'n have mercy on us!

Loch.
(in a loud solemn voice).
Thyself have mercy on us!

Mac.
How is this?
Your words confuse and stun me.—Have I power
To ward this evil off?

Omnes.
Thou hast! thou hast!

Mac.
Then God to me show mercy in my need,
As I will do for you and for my clan
Whate'er my slender power enables me.

Omnes.
Amen! and swear to it.

Mac.
(starting back).
What words are these,
With such wild fierceness utter'd? name the thing
That ye would have me do.

Ben.
(stepping out from the rest).
Ay, we will name it.
Helen the Campbell, foster'd in your bosom,
A serpent is, who wears a hidden sting
For thee and all thy name; the oath-bound spy
Of dark Argyll, our foe; the baleful plague
To which ill-omen'd sounds and warnings point,
As that on which existence or extinction—
The name and being of our clan depend;—
A witch of deep seduction.—Cast her forth.
The strange, unnatural union of two bloods,
Adverse and hostile, most abhorred is.
The heart of every warrior of your name
Rises against it. Yea, the grave calls out,
And says it may not be.—Nay, shrink not, chief,
When I again repeat it,—cast her off.

Mac.
Art thou a man? and bidst me cast her off,
Bound as I am by sacred holy ties?

Loch.
Bound as thou art by that which thou regardest
As sacred holy ties; what tie so sacred
As those that to his name and kindred vassals
The noble chieftain bind? If ties there be
To these opposed, although a saint from heav'n
Had bless'd them o'er the cross'd and holy things,
They are annull'd and broken.

Ben.
Ay, Lochtarish;
Sound doctrine hast thou utter'd. Such the creed
Of ancient warriors was, and such the creed
That we their sons will with our swords maintain.

[Drawing his sword fiercely, whilst the rest follow his example.
Mac.
Ye much confound me with your violent words.
I can in battle strive, as well ye know:
But how to strive with you, ye violent men,
My spirit knows not.

Loch.
Decide—decide, Maclean: the choice is thine
To be our chieftain, leading forth thy bands,
As heretofore thy valiant father did,
Against our ancient foe, or be the husband,
Despised, forsaken, cursed, of her thou prizest
More than thy clan and kindred.

Glen.
Make thy choice.
Benlora, wont in better times to lead us
Against the Campbells, with a chieftain's power,
Shall, with the first blast of his warlike horn,
If so he will it, round his standard gather
Thy roused and valiant vassals to a man.

Mac.
(greatly startled).
Ha! go your thoughts to this? Desert me so?
My vassals so desert me?

Loch.
Ay, by my faith, our very women too:
And in your hall remain, to serve your state,
Nor child nor aged crone.

Mac.
(after great agitation).
Decide, and cast her off!—How far the thoughts
To which these words ye yoke may go, I guess not.
(Eagerly.)
They reach not to her life?
[Pauses and looks at them anxiously, but they are silent.
Oh, oh! oh, oh! that stern and dreadful silence!

Loch.
We will not shed her blood.

Mac.
Then ye will spare her?

Loch.
Commit her to our keeping: ask us not
How we shall deal with her.

Mac.
Some fearful mystery is in your words,
Which covers cruel things. O woe the day,
That I on this astounding ridge am poised!
On every side a fearful ruin yawns.
[A voice heard without, uttering wild incoherent words, mixed with shrieks of horror.
What frenzied voice is that?

Enter 4th vassal, as if terribly frightened.
Loch.
(to 4th vas.)
What brings thee hither?

4th vas.
He fixes wildly on the gloomy void
His starting eyeballs, bent on fearful sights,
That make the sinews of his aged limbs
In agony to quiver.

Loch.
Who didst thou say?

4th vas.
John of the Isle, the sighted awful man.
Go, see yourselves: i' the outer cave he is.
Entranced he stands; arrested on his way
By horrid visions, as he hurried hither
Enquiring for the chief.

[Voice heard without, as before.
Loch.
Hark! hark, again! dread powers are dealing with him.
Come, chieftain—come and see the awful man.
If heaven or hell hath power to move thy will,
Thou canst not now withstand us.
(Pausing for him to go.)
Hearst thou not?
And motionless?

Mac.
I am beset and stunn'd,
And every sense bewilder'd. Violent men!
If ye unto this fearful pitch are bent,—
When such necessity is press'd upon me,
What doth avail resistance? Woe the day!
Even lead me where ye will.

[Exit Maclean, exhausted and trembling, leaning on Lochtarish, and followed by Benlora and Glenfadden and vassals; two inferior vassals alone left upon the stage.
1st vas.
(looking after Maclean).
Ay, there he goes; so spent, and scared, and feeble!
Without a prophet's skill, we may foretell,
John of the Isle, by sly Lochtarish taught,
Will work him soon to be an oath-bound wretch
To this their fell design.—Are all things ready?

2d vas.
All is in readiness.

2st vas.
When ebbs the tide?

2d vas.
At early dawn, when in the narrow creek
Near to the castle, with our trusty mates,
Our boat must be in waiting to receive her.

1st vas.
The time so soon! alas, so young and fair!
That slow and dismal death! To be at once
Plunged in the closing deep many have suffer'd,
But to sit waiting on a lonely rock
For the approaching tide to throttle her—
But that she is a Campbell, I could weep.

2d vas.
Weep, fool! think soon how we'll to war again
With our old enemy; and, in the field,
Our good claymores die with their hated blood:
Think upon this, and change thy tears to joy.

[Exeunt.