 | The Father's Tragedy |  |
Scene II.
—A Hall. Enter Albany, Lindsey, and Douglas.Albany.
Government!
There's no such thing in this forsaken land.
To look upon the Earth and think of Heav'n
Might raise the doubt that God is still enthroned.
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Yea, in all things of state there is a blind,
Discomforting, wide chaos.
Albany.
There's no power,
No issue of a will;—merely the thoughts
Of unestablish'd brains. Draw nearer, friends.
My brother is a saint, emasculate;
His son a random boy; the sentinel
Is lacking in each nature.
Douglas.
'Twas our woe
That you were e'er unseated.
Lindsey.
To my mind
It was Perdition's warrant to the State
Which all time since has served.
Albany.
Control the breath
Of this our intercourse. An enemy!
I know the hobble.
[Enter King Robert and Prince James.]
Brother, are you well?
King Robert.
Sickly inclined to-day.
Lindsey.
For that we grieve.
King Robert.
Do not. 'Tis scarcely pain; autumnal drought
I' the sap of life.
Albany.
I'm sorry.
[Enter Attendant.]
Attendant.
One without
Chafes for the royal presence.
Albany.
Bring him in.
Attendant.
Another stands with chain'd and savage mouth.
Albany.
Him also.
[Exit Attendant.
King Robert.
Shall I hence?
Albany.
No. [Re-enter Attendant with Messengers.]
Speak you first.
What is your business?
1st Messenger
[to King Robert].
Thus doth Henry say,
Your liege-lord, to his vassal:—Since you bar
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And force it from your tongue at Edinbro'.
King Robert.
I owe your king no enmity.
Albany.
His words
Are proud. With open arms at Edinbro'
We shall receive him; yea, surround his pride
With murderous embrace.
King Robert.
Stay, brother, pause!
Beneath these words is war conceived?
Albany.
It is;
The marriage of two enemies to raise
Seed to themselves of strife.
King Robert.
'Tis rashly done.
Albany.
On England's part. [To 1st Messenger.]
Begone! Speak you.
2nd Messenger
[to King Robert].
I'm sent
By March, your liege man, till you tore the cords
Of loyalty in twain;—from the great earl
Who hangs upon the margin of your land
His storm of wrath, from the insulted peer,
The outraged father, the determined foe,
I bring the declaration that no peace
Will ever tend her olive in his heart,
Till he have wreak'd on you the injury
Fourfold that you have wrought.
[Cries within of Place for the Duke of Rothsay.
Albany.
Take breath, poor soul;
You drive away the very air you need.
All Scotland knows the fickle loyalty
Of him who blows his shame from out your throat,
Our recreant vassal.
[Enter Rothsay.]
2nd Messenger
[to Albany].
Who are you to speak?
Rothsay.
Ay, who? Address me.
2nd Messenger.
From the Earl of March
I bring defiance. ...
Rothsay.
To the Earl of March
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At heart more fell, in purpose far more deep,
And servant of an anger that will last
Till all my hearth of life is crumbling heaps
That naught will re-illume. I have no glove
To cast before him; this will do as well
[Flinging a handful of coins to the Messenger.
For bargain-drivers and such merchant-souls
As he whom you call master. Take the gold
And let it chink my hatred in his ears.
Yet sooth I should be just. Here's gold for you!
[Flinging some coins to Douglas.
What do you say to it, Lord Douglas?
King Robert.
Peace!
David, you're mad! Be still.
Douglas.
I think the prince
Might keep himself more princely in his speech
And royal in his manners.
Albany
[aside].
This offence
Hath given me all Douglas to my use
Against the speaker.
Rothsay
[to Messenger.]
Sirrah, to your trade!
[Exit 2nd Messenger.
Douglas.
Farewell, my liege, and you, my lord [to Albany]
, and you [to Lindsey].
Rothsay.
Old Insolence!
[Exit Douglas.
Albany.
You've trodden on a mood
May sting you i' the heel.
Rothsay.
He injur'd me
With highest-brow'd contempt.
King Robert.
You cannot know
All that you do enraging such as he
With childish taunt and sneer irrelevant.
I tremble for your folly; yea, my care
Grows pale and quakes;—yet vainly do my words
Knock at the ear of reason; such a gate
You've fasten'd from your father.
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He's a boy
Who wants the method of the schoolmaster.
Rothsay.
Now hear me! I'll not suffer such affronts,—
The wormwood sour old Age with envious hand
Mixes in Youth's red cup;—the privilege
To deal indignity where honour grows
With freshest keen ascent and feels each blow
To the soft pith's new core. Oh, all the shame
You've struck into my being will be there,
When it is open'd to its secret depth
Before the Judgment-seat, and lo! old men
Will answer for the sins that they have done
Across the years to those in backward Time's
Most lovely season. Spring has blights and winds
Of killing tooth; but early manhood's plague
And desolating frost is cruelty
And white-hair'd check of pert decrepitude.
King Robert.
Son against father!
Albany.
Let him mock unheard.
We'll turn to weighty matters. We must call
Our armèd trains together, and on walls,
In tow'r and fort invincible ensconce
Our primest courage. Nephew, since you're styled
The governor of Edinbro', your place
Will be its flinty hold.
Rothsay.
Oh, war, war, war!
Its thrilling course thro' slow and wretched veins
Is godlike in its triumph. All is great
I' the instant; all is rapturous and new.
There's twice his wonted fervour in the sun,
A hundred times more quickly moves the air,
The world is changed at every trumpet-blast
That sounds to arms, changed, changed from old to young;
From lameness into leaping; from the doze
Of chimney-corner to a fiery-eyed
And sleepless energy; from palsied fears
And calculated dangers to firm heart
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To tumbled hardship; from long days to short;
From talk to action; from cold blood to hot;
For all the world is young.—My love-lorn wife,
[Enter Duchess Marjorie.]
I'm going to the wars.
Duchess Marjorie.
Indeed.
Rothsay.
Indeed?
Ay, to be kill'd, to find a merry grave,
Where I shall lie with earth-worms.
Duchess Marjorie.
You've not said
With whom you fight.
Rothsay.
The devil! I don't care.
I'll turn this common questioner to you
More patient elders. On my very soul,
Warfare is trite, familiar in her voice
As all things in the world. So stale a tongue
Would make Spring, Autumn; Joy, Satiety;
Creation, Death; and Heaven damnable.
[To Prince James.]
Jamie, you like to fight?
Prince James.
Oh yes, I wish
I were a man!
King Robert.
Here, James!
Rothsay.
I'm leperous!
You shall not draw the child away like that,
As if I breathed corruption; make me feel
My bodily presence a reproach and taint.
It is a lie, past all endurance false.
I'll have him with me. Come and see me arm.
You're not afraid to come?
Prince James.
David!
Rothsay.
Hurrah!
[Exeunt.
Albany.
Lindsey, support the king. He's wan and ill.
King Robert.
I'm weary.
Albany.
Then we'll guide you to your rooms.
King Robert.
And bring me James.
[Exeunt.
Duchess Marjorie.
For that old man, I own,
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[Re-enter Douglas.]
Douglas.
Daughter Marjorie, a word.
Duchess Marjorie.
What is it, father?
Douglas.
Does that saucy whelp
Use you with honour as his wife? Come, come!
No stubborn face!
Duchess Marjorie.
We rarely speak or meet.
Douglas.
Comes he at nights?
Duchess Marjorie.
We rarely speak or meet.
Douglas.
That's repetition. Answer as I ask.
Duchess Marjorie.
He drinks the night out.
Douglas.
He shall quaff a draught
Of vengeance.
Duchess Marjorie.
What the good? 'Twill nothing mend.
I pray you do not move against my lord
Merely for my poor sake. Time ever goes
With steady patience.
Douglas.
Albany returns.
Go.
[Re-enter Albany and Lindsey. Exit Duchess Marjorie.]
Albany.
Hump! Your son-in-law is insolent.
At heart he is your enemy.
Douglas.
The same
Am I to him, the graceless libertine!
Lindsey.
I too.
Albany.
We'll make this matter for our speech.
[Exeunt.
| The Father's Tragedy | |