University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A small island, composed of a rugged craggy rock, on the front of the stage, and the sea in the background.
Enter two vassals dragging in Helen, as if just come out of their boat.
Helen.
O why is this? Speak, gloomy, ruthless men!
Our voyage ends not here?

1st vas.
It does: and now,
Helen the Campbell, fare thee— fare there well!

2d vas.
Helen the Campbell, thy last greeting take
From mortal thing.

Helen.
What! leave me on this rock,
This sea-girt rock, to solitude and famine?

1st vas.
Next rising tide will bring a sure relief
To all the ills we leave thee.

Helen
(starting).
I understand you.
[Raising her clasped hands to heaven.
Lord of heaven and earth;
Of storms and tempests, and th' unfathom'd deep;
Is this thy righteous will?
[Grasping the hands of the men imploringly
Ye cannot mean it!
Ye cannot leave a human creature thus
To perish by a slow approaching end,
So awful and so terrible! Instant death
Were merciful to this.

1st vas.
If thou prefer it, we can shorten well
Thy term of pain and terror: from this crag,
Full fourteen fathom deep thou mayst be plunged.
In shorter time than three strokes of an oar
Thy pains will cease.

2d vas.
Come, that were better for thee.

[Both of them take her hands, and are going to hurry her to the brink of the rock, when she shrinks back.
Helen.
O no! the soul recoils from swift destruction!
Pause ye awhile.
[Considering for a moment.
The downward terrible plunge!
The coil of whelming waves!—O fearful nature!
[Catching hold of a part of the rock near her.
To the rough rock I'll cling: it still is something
Of firm and desp'rate hold—Depart and leave me.

[Waving her hand for the vassals to go, whilst she keeps close hold of the rock with the other.
1st vas.
Thou still mayst live within a prison pent,
If life be dear to thee.

Helen
(eagerly).
If life be dear!—Alas, it is not dear!
Although the passing fearful act of death
So very fearful is.—Say how, even in a prison,
I still may wait my quiet natural end.

1st vas.
Whate'er thou art, such has thy conduct been,
Thy wedded faith, e'en with thy fellest foes,
Sure and undoubted stands:—Sign thou this scroll,
Owning the child, thy son, of bastard birth;
And this made sure, Lochtarish bade me say
Thy life shall yet be spared.

Helen
(pushing him away with indignation as he offers her the scroll).
Off, off, vile agent of a wretch so devilish!
Now do I see from whence my ruin comes:
I and my infant foil his wicked hopes.
O harmless babe! will heav'n abandon thee?
It will not!—No; it will not!
[Assuming firmness and dignity.
Depart and leave me. In my rising breast
I feel returning strength. Heav'n aids my weakness:
I'll meet its awful will.

[Waving them off with her hand.
1st vas.
Well, in its keeping rest thee: fare thee well,
Helen the Campbell!

2d vas.
Be thy suff'rings short!
(Aside to the other.)
Come, quickly let us go, nor look behind.
Fell is the service we are put upon:
Would we had never ta'en that cruel oath!

[Exeunt vassals.
Helen
(alone, after standing some time gazing round her, paces backwards and forwards with agitated steps, then, stopping suddenly, bends her ear to the ground as if she listened earnestly to something).
It is the sound; the heaving hollow swell
That notes the turning tide.—Tremendous agent!
Mine executioner, that, step by step,
Advances to the awful work of death.—
Onward it wears: a little space removed
The dreadful conflict is.
[Raising her eyes to heaven, and moving her lips, as in the act of devotion, before she again speaks aloud.
Thou art i' the blue coped sky—th' expanse immeasurable;
I' the dark roll'd clouds, the thunder's awful home:
Thou art i' the wide-shored earth,—the pathless desert;
And in the dread immensity of waters,—
I' the fathomless deep Thou art.
Awful but excellent! beneath Thy hand,
With trembling confidence, I bow me low,
And wait Thy will in peace.
[Sits down on a crag of the rock, with her arms crossed over her breast in silent resignation; then, after a pause of some length, raises her head hastily.
Is it a sound of voices in the wind?
The breeze is on the rock: a gleam of sunshine
Breaks through those farther clouds. It is like hope
Upon a hopeless state.
[Starting up, and gazing eagerly around her.
I'll to that highest crag and take my stand:
Some little speck upon the distant wave
May to my eager gaze a vessel grow—
Some onward wearing thing,—some boat—some raft—
Some drifted plank.—O hope! thou quitt'st us never!

[Exit, disappearing amongst the rugged divisions of the rock.