 | The Father's Tragedy |  |
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ACT III.
Scene I.
—A Room. Enter Albany, Douglas, Lindsey, and Ramorgny.Albany.
The measure must be sudden and severe,
A storm that breaks not lowers—else the mild
And easy breath of our good king will blow
The righteous cloud of pending chastisement
Far from its destined quarter.
Douglas.
God forbid!
Vengeance no more can wait within my soul.
The prince is ready, ripe to be cut down,
Full-dyed in sin; his shamelessness outspread
In riot and a license beyond speech.
He spends his days and nights in dalliance
And sensual delights. He stops at naught.
Before mine eyes and in my daughter's sight
He dares salute his lemans. Insolence
Profanes his royalty, and his graced rank
Stoops to the reveller's corrupt degree.
Lindsey.
Since our last war he rages in excess,
Flaunts in gay silks, is rash and mettlesome,
Hungry as hawk, and lavish.
Albany.
But I've turned
The key of the exchequer with a will
Not easy to unlatch. He shall not seize
The wealth I've purpose for to buy him drink,
Fine clothes, and base enjoyments. I have griped
His father's childish mind as in a vice,
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And spendthrift rage.
Ramorgny.
Your grace, he's desperate;
Swears that you starve his pleasure, which must feed
On golden pieces as its honied store,
Or perish.
Albany.
Let it perish! 'tis a drone,
A slavish grasper of the yellow hoard
It never gathered.
Ramorgny.
He's infuriate,
And in his passion cuts from every belt
The purse well-filled or empty; from the poor
He takes his mite, from the rich citizen
His cumbrous weight of merry-sounding coin.
Will they or nil they, each must render up
Their gilt provision for his potent need.
This does he every night.
Lindsey.
Audacious deed!
Good Albany, we pray as Justice spoke
That sudden end be put to such offence.
Albany.
Do not entreat; the need I recognise,
And only wait for opportunity
To fling apart her doors in circling time
For entrance of my deed.—Fellow, your hest?
[Enter Attendant.]
Attendant.
The Bishop of St. Andrews died last night
At cock-crow.
Douglas.
That's i' the dawn.
Albany.
A fat divine,
With lands to match the breadth of his good paunch,
And gold his body's weight. How died the whale?
Attendant.
'Twas apoplexy.
Albany.
Perished by the neck,
As Death were but a hangman! Bear your news
To the king's pious ear.
[Exit Attendant.
My brain is quick;
Suggestion leaps within it, as a child
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Was rich beyond belief, and where he goes
Can nothing follow; therefore is his wealth
Where he hath left it—in St. Andrews town,
Which town, I pray you note, is reached by way
Of wild Strathtyrum—mile or so to left
Of Falkland Castle, which is mine—a hold
Safe as the brow of councillor to hide
The secrets that it spans.
Douglas.
How points this speech?
Albany.
Ramorgny, is the duke at feast?
Ramorgny.
He is.
The tavern roared as I went by.
Albany.
You're due
Among the boon companions?
Ramorgny.
Ay, your grace.
Albany.
Then go and spread report of this man's death,
Drop hints of wealth, of satisfaction bright
To bold adventure: say the enterprise
Is perilous and promises much gold.
Do this, Ramorgny, with familiar voice
And stimulating laugh. Go speedily.
[Exit Ramorgny.
Friends, will you hence? Design with chaos strives
In this mine orb; I pray you solitude.
Douglas.
And may it be of moment to the land.
Lindsey.
Amen, as I'm a patriot.
[Exeunt.
Albany.
'Twill work!
I'll prison him before the week is out,
And then! ... That cobweb, how it draws
My inattentive eye; I cannot turn
My glance from its magnetic central point
Of all imagination.—It is said
That mighty Bruce, my famed progenitor,
Learnt lessons from a spider—patience
Through oft-retarded enterprise.—Yon fly
With the tight wings!—'Tis held and then ... destroyed.
[Exit.
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Scene II.
—A Tavern. Enter Rothsay, Walter, Randolph. Ralph with a bound felon.—Apart Wright and Selkirk.Rothsay.
Here, Ralph, your knife and cut these cords from him.
Another slash—they're gone!—Oh, give it me,—
You hesitate—half-hearted!
Ralph.
Well! 'tis this:
He is a parricide.
Rothsay.
The very sin
For which I loose him.
Ralph.
You have gone too far;
There's terror in this prank.
Rothsay.
What, see him killed
Before my eyes for self-defence from blows
Of an old tyrant, whose first tyranny
Was in begetting him—initial wrong
To be atoned for—how? By lording it
Over the wretched body and crushed soul?
Then is paternity a monstrous crime
Blind justice cannot see.
Randolph.
Hear him!
Rothsay.
I speak
My very heart. This fellow shall not die
For guarding life, when he who filled the flask
Would empty it. Oh, shame! You're free!
Ralph.
He's dumb;
Death's muzzled him. Untie his mouth with drink.
Randolph.
Ay, fetch a can!
Walter.
A can, a can!
Rothsay.
Hey there!
[Hostess brings wine.
Walter.
Down with it! Ha! it tastes like very life.
It is the blood of amity; we're friends
Who share in this red tie.
Felon.
Too much, too much!
Walter.
Of comradeship and wine?
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The ass!
Rothsay.
You fools!
He's dazed. Just think! he's touched the hem of Death,
The inner shroud that wraps all sense and breath.
How felt you, knave, so near the dismal end?
Walter.
Oh, search his feelings now he's near to life
And clinking glasses.
Rothsay.
Yet it fascinates
The skeleton, while flesh is full and young;
Its beggary when purple state is kept
In every vein; its dolesomeness when joy
Flouts summer's passing clouds; its cynic stare
And disenchanted mouth's rigidity,
When eyes desire and lips have troth and kiss;
Its ancient chalky tinct, when red is up
And dawn a-crowing in the face and limbs;
Its dry and famished orifice when feasts
Bubble with wine; its impotence when strength
Heaves as a sea the sinews. Oh, it shows,
Far dusty goal, how long will be our course.
Randolph.
We'll talk of sepulchres and tipple, lads!
Corruption and long draughts!
Walter.
Hey now, boys, drink!
Rothsay
[to Hostess].
Pour here, pour all! Courage! We'll talk of death
And dying. This professor we'll elect
To the top chair. Here, gown him in my cloak;
The ermine is scholastic. Ha, la, la!
Wright
[aside to Selkirk].
A felon.
Selkirk
[aside to Wright].
H'm! Best wine for him, and kicks
For us!—
Wright
[aside to Selkirk].
Mum, mum! They'll give you to the dogs.
Selkirk
[aside to Wright].
No drink for us.
Wright
[aside to Selkirk].
They'll duck you.
Selkirk
[aside to Wright].
Damn the crew
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My soul!—
Walter.
No, man, your body—that's the theme
To which we're merry pupils.
Randolph.
Here's to it!
Ralph.
Here's to your carcase!
Rothsay.
Tell us how you felt
When Death was on a moment's other side.
Felon.
Oh, nothing much!—but rather tight ...
Rothsay.
As if
The body hugged its kernel—ghastly clip!
Here's the first instance that our master gives
From the last art of all.
Walter.
Cheerly, my lads!
A health to each.
Rothsay.
Right heartily.—How else
Felt you, good master?
Felon.
Eh, sire?
Rothsay.
You are safe.
How felt you dying?
Felon.
Why I cannot say—
But like as you must pass a ghost.
Rothsay.
He's raised
A most delicious shiver. On my soul,
There's magic in 't,—impossibility
In death!—a lure that never will draw us,
A wonder that will never be, a dream
Cast o'er our being from the world without,
And in us but a fragment dim, distraught,
Of what we do not know and cannot learn.
A place of marvel too forlorn for us,
Where old men seek their losses, an event
Which we with our new breath can never cause;
A something, which is nothing to the dawn,
The bud, young man or maiden ...
[Enter Ramorgny.]
Ramorgny.
What of them?
Walter.
Can't die, can't die!
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The wine hath made a way
To Reason's spring.
[Clamour without.
Rothsay.
The townsfolk at our gates!
Up, up! They'd seize our prisoner! His eye
Is like a hound-caught hare's. A fight, a fight!
[Enter Citizens.]
1st Citizen.
We'll have the monster!
2nd Citizen.
Tear the parricide!
Rothsay.
Strike at the numskulls that hold fathers dear!
1st Citizen.
The prince, the prince!
3rd Citizen.
Cry shame on him!
1st Citizen.
Young lord,
Fie on this prank!
3rd Citizen.
Justice!
Rothsay.
Protect the weak!
[They fight. Exeunt Citizens, dragging off the offender.
Traitors, you'll suffer! Rebels, on my word
I'll deal it to you heavily for this!—
He's precept and example too, poor wretch!
My blood is up.
Ramorgny.
Then have I news for you.
The Bishop of St. Andrews died last night.
Rothsay.
Mercy! You'd have us get to church and pray
Our hot blood out for him!
Ramorgny.
Rash gaiety!
Ho, ho! I'd have you seize his earthly goods,
And leave immortal baggage to himself.
Walter.
Ay, that's our cue!
Rothsay.
How, how?
Ramorgny.
Why thus. At dawn
Ride to St. Andrews, claim the bishopric,
And hold it while it serves you as a purse.
Rothsay.
Your speech is a divining-rod; my thought
Digs to the bright event. I'll start at dawn,
And ride alone. Gold, gold, my cronies, gold!
Walter.
Let's go in company.
Rothsay.
I'll ride alone,
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Walter.
Look yonder through the door!
Rothsay.
What is 't to see?
Walter.
A flare of light.
Randolph.
Look, look!
Walter.
It trails along
Its hairy length of sanguine shining rays,
And seeks Aquilo with terrific sweep
Of baleful triumph.
Ralph.
Wonderful to see!
Rothsay.
Mathematicians say, as I've heard told,
When comes this comet 'tis a sign of death
Or downfall to some prince; or to some land
The symbol of destruction.
Walter.
So 'tis said.
Rothsay.
Ho, la!—it hurries fiercely to its work,
The rufous minister of starry fate!
'Tis ardent in the service of despair
And death—a flaming presence with the torch
That Até, as our chronicles relate,
Waved over Troy in bloodthirsty despite.
How must the doomèd wretch be sunk in woe
Who feels that skiey sword within his breast,
And all his power beneath the withering breath
Of yon proud exhalation with hot train
Of fiery vapour! 'Tis a gallant slave
To spindle-turning destinies; they are
Witches to own familiar such as that
Bright demon of the clouds. We'll pledge it, boys,
Hold up red wine to its more red success;
No matter who goes up nor who goes down.
Here's to 't!
Ramorgny
[aside].
The sybil knows another's fate—
Is silent of her own, howe'er she prate.
[They go on carousing.
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Scene III.
—A Room. A portrait of the King over the fireplace. Enter King Robert, Albany, Douglas, and Lindsey.King Robert.
I cannot. Oh, you push my fatherhood
From its old chair beside my heart's red fire
It's sat by many a year. Imprison him!
Close him from light to which I called him forth,
And send him back to unpaternal Night's
Most lone possession! Tell me what the sin
Can merit such discharge?
Albany.
Be calm. Our words
Have carried tempest, and their urgency
Hath told like cruel blast. Good brother, calm!
I'll speak again and not belie our scope.
King Robert.
Do, I beseech you.
Albany.
Listen with your mind,
Nor let your heart once hear.
King Robert.
'Tis deaf, 'tis deaf.
Albany.
The evil that is held and never spilt,
Though deadly in its essence, doth no harm;
Being disseminate with its advance,
It spreads its venom. So my nephew's sins,
When privily enacted, hurt but him
In his dishonoured self. Now are they poured
Upon the woeful land; for every night
He robs the various, darkling travellers.
His license grows; his amorous intrigues
And shriftless dissipation fill all mouths
With scandal and amaze.
King Robert.
And he's my son!
He might have been unlawfully begot,
He's put me to such shame.—Forgive the wrath,
My buried queen! who gav'st him that bright hair,
With all a cornfield's promise in its hue
When looked on by a beggar.
Albany.
Patience! Hear!
He's but a boy, and childish in offence;
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Straight, frighting walls and sudden privacy.
And this but for a space, that in his pride
The simple lesson may be fixed as deep
As is his alphabet in memory.
King Robert.
But prison!—Oh, I feel his sun might set
If plunged in darkness, and I cannot think
That he'd come out like morning; he would hate,
As Rhadamanthus, that grim judge of Hell,
The father who condemned him to the gloom.
I'll never do it.
Albany.
Yet in days of old,
You shut him, a scared child with wauling mouth
And passionate limbs, in pitchy, crampèd space
Of a lock'd closet. Punishment should grow
As grows the stature and the mind of those
It chastens. Storms to break the forest's will
Must sweep not as they dealt with seedlings; so
The narrow chamber that confined the child
Must be a dungeon when he grows to man.
The chastisements are similar, degree
Being proportioned to the years they curb.
King Robert.
True, true! But doth a father's power enlarge
With life's expansion in the youth he's reared,
That he dare punish after that same form
That served him for the boy?
Albany.
Thus Heaven does.
The chastening of conscience pricks the sense
Of infancy but as uneasy thorn;
Manhood it fixes with the spear-like thrust;
In kind, the same—in measure, different.
Douglas.
We pray you listen, for we trust you grant
The prince deserves some check.
King Robert.
Oh, sirs, I do.
[Enter Ramorgny.]
Albany.
How now?
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I've but a moment's very chink
In which to speak. I must be back e'en now,
Or smart among my comrades. List! the prince
Is bent on holding in rash, lawless grasp
St. Andrews' bishopric. He starts at dawn.
King Robert.
An impious thought.
Ramorgny.
But there is worse behind;
He's loosed from death, and eaten at the board
With one who slew his father.
King Robert.
He forgets
The chain that life hath locked with heavy key
About the child and parent, unto which
They must be slaves, or bear the lash of God
Until they perish! He forgets all this!
Ramorgny.
I must away.
Albany
[aside to Ramorgny].
And bring me privily
The men you praised last night.
[Exit Ramorgny.
[To King Robert.]
Now you will grant
Necessity was prophet thro' our lips.
So, so!—Good brother, you're persuaded now?
King Robert.
As to the state. But, Albany, the lack
Of duty and respect to fatherhood!
O Albany, there is no darkness—none,
I'd put him in for that. Another judge
Must sentence it. I'm partial, Albany.
Albany.
But for the state?
King Robert.
Bid Allan fetch my son.
Leave me.—Yes, yes! I know it is in vain;
But let me try to touch one chord in him
My nature strung. I'll see you presently.
[Exeunt Albany, Douglas, and Lindsey.]
The attributes of God, when bound on man,
Are cruel to the flesh; His charity
Doth not oppress, He never craved an alms;
But a king's mercy weighs on him as guilt—
And punishment! Oh, there is very lead!
To judge, to punish!—And the judge is frail
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To one who shares with him a heart that aches,
The changeful cheek, and the tomb's last disgrace.
O execrable burden! God, O God!
Why did'st thou bow Thy creature of an hour
To carry what omniscience alone
Should strike with and eternity confirm?
I'm crushed; the iron power is on my soul,
And on the body that begot my son,
Whom I must punish.—Nay, I'll win and save.
Oh, I will speak with searching mildness, reach,
Like the soft rain, where there is seed in him
The rough blast could not touch. If I am calm
Perchance ... But hark! a door was thrown ajar.
'Twere well to sit.—That comes from his young throat.
Rothsay
[within, singing].
The devil is a sinner,
Ha, la, la,—la!
But none can hit him fair;
For who would be the winner?
Fa, la, la,—la!
Ay, who would be the winner,
When the devil does not care?
[Enters.]
Ha, la, la,—la!
But none can hit him fair;
For who would be the winner?
Fa, la, la,—la!
Ay, who would be the winner,
When the devil does not care?
Good even, father [lifting his cap].
King Robert.
David! Ah, 'tis well
You make some show of reverence.
Rothsay.
I'm framed
To courtesy as morning to the light.
I could not with a covered head insult
The meanest roof.
King Robert.
You show me courtesy
By instinct, and yet wrong its very source!
You've sinned against that name with which your birth
Did christen me, by taking the vile part
Of one who broke his origin and mould
That fashioned forth his life.
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Ridiculous!
Because one parent has abused his state,
Would we dethrone all others? By your leave,
You can't have a good conscience, father.
King Robert.
That
I have toward you. I ever loved you dear
As sunshine or as life; have ever striven
To do my part toward you; it came like joy.
David, that look across your lips! [Aside.]
Oh, that
Curdles my love as some malicious sprite
The moon-pale milk!—I've ever been to you
A father just and merciful.
Rothsay.
Most just.
O bitterest sarcasm my life can frame!
Just—and you sold me to a loathsome thing
You call my wife! ... and merciful! You cut
My happy youth away as the green shoot
That carried summer in illumined growth
Ere tyrant March dissevered. Just, you say?—
Who made me man and snatch from me the rights
That consecrate my sex. What! merciful?
And you have driven me beyond the door
And threshold of your favour! Is it just
To breed me to my station and deny
The means to keep it? Merciful to trust
Backbiters' malice, comments of dislike,
And your own icy age? Just! Merciful!
King Robert.
The woman you have married was the choice
Of Albany, your uncle; and he said
'Twas for the best, and he is mostly wise.
Rothsay.
Why did you trust such matter to his will
If you so loved me? Your deed's eloquent
Of love that's mighty little!
King Robert.
Oh, unkind!
'Twas for your good, and that it failed is due
More to your humour and unchecked caprice
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Rothsay.
Thank you!
King Robert.
Son,
I'll bear no insolence—as if you'd been
Aught but a thankless prodigal.
Rothsay
[drawing his dagger].
We're quits.
King Robert.
David, put down that dagger. Do you hear?
Obey me, put that dagger down.
Rothsay.
Ha, ha!
King Robert.
Now, David, I will be obey'd in this,
As in the prohibition which I make
To what you purpose—seizing on the wealth
O' the Bishop of St. Andrews. At your peril
You dare to touch it.
Rothsay.
I'll not touch, but hold.
King Robert.
'Tis at your peril.
Rothsay.
Threats are dangerous—
To children.
King Robert.
And to disobedience
Is due a childish punishment. You look
Merely a stubborn boy deserves the whip.
Do as I tell you.
Rothsay
[stabbing his father's portrait].
Now I've got a sheath.
Obey you! Never, never, never, never!
[Exit.
King Robert.
He's torn the painted breast that cannot bleed,
While this is heaving to let out its tides
By any ragged cleft. O David, David!
[Re-enter Albany, Douglas, and Lindsey.]
Albany.
Hand me the water, Douglas.
King Robert.
There, there!—there!
It must be done.
Albany.
Lindsey, the warrant, quick!
And pen and ink. [Exit Lindsey.]
He passed us with an oath
Fouling his mouth.
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Look there!
Douglas.
A wanton deed,
Outrageous and contemned.
[Re-enter Lindsey with the warrant.]
Albany.
Your signature,
And all is done. Here is a pen that's wet.
King Robert.
Where must I write?
Albany.
Just there.
King Robert.
The ink is black,
As if it mourned for him; and here's the seal
That shuts him from the sun and closes him
In primal night. I'm thinking, Albany,
The mother from whose lightless womb he came
Will ne'er forgive this writing.
Albany
[to Douglas].
Take it hence.
[Exit Douglas.
King Robert.
In Falkland Castle?
Albany.
If he rides that way.
King Robert.
Yes, toward St. Andrews.
Albany.
Falkland Castle, then.
[Re-enter Douglas.]
King Robert.
I'll go to bed.—Well, gentlemen, you see
I'm not a dotard, though I love the boy.—
Bid candles to my chamber—it is dark.—
Oh, oh!—One other question, Albany:
What is the dungeon like?
Albany.
Most merciful;
No rocky pit and hold of tainted air
Or unclean life—merely a narrow room
Whose grated window from a passage black
Draws in the constant wind.
King Robert.
Well, well!—Once more
He'll sleep in his own bed, within the room
Where as a sunny lad I've seen his face
Smile, though 'twas night. I'll leave you, gentlemen.
[Exit with Douglas.
Albany.
All's working to our end. Go, Lindsey, fetch
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I speak with them in private, and meanwhile
Have horses ready; boot and spur yourself
For momently departure.
Lindsey.
With best speed.
[Exit.
Albany.
All is not done: as if a prison killed
The nature it has fastened! He'll come forth
In all the passion of galled liberty,
And lord it o'er me with tumultuous spite
And mischievous demeanour. I must hear
His voice no more—never! Yet gossips say
Blood cries aloud against the murderer.
Such call were ruinous. I'll spill no blood;
He shall not have a crimson advocate
To make the airy vault resound his part,
And rouse the common earth to plead for him.
No blood, no blood! But he shall simply die—
Die as old men do from the life worn out;
Die, not by violence, but slow degrees;
[Enter Ramorgny, with Wright and Selkirk.
Not broken like a glass with all its wine,
But emptied, whole and flawless. Selkirk, Wright!
[They approach.
This good observer says you hate the prince
For insults and neglect. I ask you, friends,
To hate him for this gold; ay, more than this—
By handfuls as you pile your hatred up.
I see you have no tongues that you can use
Before a gentleman. I therefore ask
But simple “Yes” or “No”—two little words—
The longer, wealth; the shorter, poverty,
With my displeasure coupled. Say your say.
Wright.
Yes, I'll do anything.
Selkirk.
Yes, so will I.
Albany
[giving gold].
An earnest for you each. And which of you
Knows Falkland Castle? I am lord of it.
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I've known it from my cradle. Over there
Against Strathtyrum.
Albany.
Ay, and there you go
This very night, for ere another falls
And closes in the world, the prince will lie
In more enduring darkness.
Wright.
Prison?
Albany.
Ay,
And tomb to be, for you will make it so
By holding from the belly and the throat
That which keeps life.
Wright.
Clem him?
Albany.
Your word is right.
Take them away, Ramorgny; give them all
The circumstances of time and place and how.
Bid Lindsey to me, and return anon,
For you must start at midnight.
[Exeunt Ramorgny, Wright, and Selkirk.
When all's done,
Ended and over, I will give it out
He died of wasting fever, such as oft
Is shut a phantom with the prisoner
To house together.
[Re-enter Lindsey.]
Lindsey.
Here and at your will.
Albany.
To horse at once, the warrant in your pouch.
I heard him call his servant; he's a-bed,
And we must get the start.
Lindsey.
Long ere he comes,
We'll own a briery ambush.
[Re-enter Ramorgny.]
Albany.
Here's Sir John.
Come to my private chamber, and tread soft.
[Exeunt.
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Scene IV.
—Courtyard. Dawn. Randolph in a drunken sleep. Allan and Walter.Walter.
The lie-a-bed!
Allan.
I halted by his room.
Lord, he was snoring! and when thus he sleeps,
He cries out when he's waked.
Walter.
I'll watch no more.
This time o' day puts sickness into me.
The air is strange and empty, as just left
By mouldy ghosts and all the crew o' sprites.
Allan.
A purple, sodden dawn.
Walter.
That's overdrunk
Of water.
Allan.
Is he coming?
Walter.
Heigh-ho! heigh!
Allan.
A step! You hear 'em far off at this hour.
Hist!
Walter.
He's a very sluggard.
[Enter Rothsay.]
Rothsay.
Where's my horse?
Allan.
Beyond the archway yonder. But, my lord,
I could not find your bridle.
Rothsay.
Here it is.
I took it to give Jamie, for he rides
This morning his first charger: give it him;
He likes its fashion, and he loves me. There!
Ha, ha, ha, ha! I'm making no bequest.
Cheer up, old Allan.
Allan.
This is food for you,
Some scraps of dainty meat such as you love.
Rothsay.
The early cold will make me hungry. Thanks.
How solemn Walter looks!
Walter.
'Tis a queer hour,
That makes you sink within and flap your lids.
Heigh-ho! heigh-ho!
Allan.
'Tis five o'clock.
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St. Andrew! I am late.—
Give me the food.—See, 'tis a heavy sky.—
Farewell, farewell! I'll make your pockets bright.
Bid Randolph watch for me to-morrow night.
Walter.
God speed!
Allan.
God keep you!
Rothsay.
To you from my heart! [waving].
Father, I'm going!
[Exit.
Allan.
Walt, I cannot think
Why he's so under cloud; a little wild,
But that's youth's wont, and most affectionate.—
He's turning now. A thousand shames say I.
Walter.
Oh, 'tis his uncle's doing, and the stiff,
Grave set o' the king's virtue. Let us feed,
To make sure we're not standing in a dream.
[Exeunt.
Scene V.
—Strathtyrum. Enter Lindsey, Ramorgny, Wright, and Selkirk.Lindsey.
Crouch! and I'll be your watchman.
Ramorgny.
What sound's that?
Lindsey.
Some bird.
Wright.
The plover.
Lindsey.
Oh!
Ramorgny.
Lie close.—Down here
The shade grows dull. Is't clouding more?
Lindsey.
Ay, fast.
Ramorgny.
A horse's neigh!
Lindsey.
Some peasant over there
Lading his heavy beast.
Wright.
'Tis peat for fires.
Lindsey.
You call it so?—A shower!
Wright.
Bo! a flood.
There's water in all parts about your head.
'Twill fall for many a day.
Lindsey.
Truly.
Wright.
A bet!
69
There's something like the dumb show of a blast.
Lindsey.
It comes before a tempest.
Ramorgny.
I am chill.
Lindsey.
'Tis he—at least a man who loops his reins
Over a thorn, and throws his gaze about
As looking for the way. Now, now! He turns
Direct to us. All ready!
[Enter Rothsay, ascending a slope.]
Rothsay.
Oh the joy
Of being quite alone with land and air,
Freedom, and Youth, and Day,—'tis otherwise
With Night, but I shall reach the town ere dark.
I've not enjoyed a solitary ride
Till now, when I've the throbbing fellowship
Of Resolution, with unhindered space
Before me—
Lindsey.
You're deceived. In the king's name
I apprehend your person.
[They surround him.
Rothsay.
Do you know
I am the Prince of Scotland? How is this?
Sir William Lindsey, and Ramorgny too!
You're come to fetch me back? I'm one to four!
Lindsey.
Grip; hold him firm! Secure his sword, Sir John.
Rothsay.
Ha! You're a pack of dastards.
Lindsey.
Got it?
Ramorgny.
Yes.
Lindsey.
Fellows, a rope.
Rothsay.
I will not suffer it.
You make yourselves my enemies.
Lindsey.
And such,
Young man, we are. Draw back his wrists.
Rothsay.
God's sake!
You will not bring me home in such a guise,
Before the gaping street?
Lindsey.
No, certainly.
70
What will you do with me?
Lindsay.
Convey you straight
To Falkland Castle.
Rothsay.
Where?
Lindsey.
Your uncle's hold
Hard by.
Rothsay.
Oh, take me home! Do anything
But take me there. I do not mind the street.
Oh, take me back! I'm ready.
Lindsey.
We must keep
Our orders.
Rothsay.
Let me see the warrant.
Lindsey.
Here.
Your father's name and writing.
Rothsay.
Put it up.
I hate him!—John, they cannot mean me harm
If you are here.
Lindsey.
Ramorgny, go and fetch
Yon peasant's hack. We must proceed.
Rothsay.
My horse
Is yonder.
Lindsey.
We shall want it. You must stride
The work-horse that he'll bring.
Rothsay.
What does this mean?
Lindsey.
How heavily it rains! The streams will flood;
'Twere best to move at once. Come, David Stuart,
These men will be your warders.
Rothsay.
Do not go—
Not leave me all alone with them. Good sir,
I never injured you. Be merciful,
And take me with you,—take me home. I'll ne'er
Offend again. Indeed I will not.
Lindsey.
On!
Ramorgny brings the beast.
Rothsay.
This fellow caught
My cloak. I'm drenched.
Lindsey.
They'll tie yon peasant's rag
71
Rothsay
[to Ramorgny].
Will you suffer it?
Oh, you are changed to owner of this brute,
Vile traitor!
Ramorgny.
'Tis a jest; they mean no harm.
Rothsay.
... Ramorgny, loose my sword;
You swashing blackguard, 'tis not for your use.
[Ramorgny slinks off.
Lindsey, you still look like a gentleman. ...
Lindsey.
As such condemn the thief: see to him, keep
To the letter your instructions.
Wright.
H'm.
[Exit Lindsey.
Selkirk.
Greenhorn!
An' so you do not love our company?
[To Wright.]
Drag him along. Sir John has skulked away,—
Speckles the distance;—now you're left to us,
Two merry knaves.
Rothsay.
I am forsaken—lost!
What shall I do?—Good fellows ...
Wright.
Gulp your lies,
And dine off 'em.
Rothsay.
My men, how far is it?
Wright.
Five miles, sweet boy.
Rothsay.
You look good fellows ...
Selkirk.
Ay,
So says a throat that's almost stiff with fright.
Rothsay.
No, no!
Selkirk.
The liar! Hold your tongue, and come.
[Exeunt.
| The Father's Tragedy | |