 | The Ferryman, or The Translated Escutcheon |  |
278
ACT IV.
Chamber.Countess and Catherine.
COUNTESS.
He sickens at their names—so all are lost!
I will no farther question him. Alas!
That good and ill should mix their snakes and flowers,
Like Pluto's married head by Proserpine's!
If I might take my fortunes how I pleased,
Provided that I took them, they should come
Each kind apart.
CATHERINE.
'Twere better so receive them,
Being wisely joined or severed for our good,
Even as they are sent.
COUNTESS.
Fair preacher on the text,
We profit by mischances! 'Midst the wreck
Where perished husbands, brothers, fathers, sons,
I find a sister.
CATHERINE.
One poor servant gained
For many better lost.
COUNTESS.
They were not lost,
But rashly squandered to appease impatience.
How shall we meet their eyes who wait our coming?
I will not go to Rabensberg.
CATHERINE.
Where then?
COUNTESS.
Back, home again, fair sister. Thou art mine—
Thy mother's gift and lover's legacy.
He dying, as he thought, bequeathed thee to me,
And I will keep thee. Where hast hidden this Colen,
Who dares confront the hideous face of death,
But not my thanks and mine?
279
My mother scares him.
There is some pledge of patience toward myself,
While he keeps out of sight.
Enter Count and Otho.
COUNTESS.
Now, are they found?
OTHO.
One is—the boy.
COUNT.
We shall not need them yet.
Let me grow stronger-stomached for this ferry.
My last night's surfeit spoils the appetite.
COUNTESS.
Then let us back again.
COUNT.
Wait till to-morrow.
COUNTESS.
Well, so we will; but not to cross the Danube.
COUNT.
I must, at least. Otho shall pass before us,
To sound the shoals, and choose a landing-place.
OTHO.
Mild as he seems again to those escaped,
The river has consumed his banks, and lifts
His sands above the surface.
Enter Ferryman disguised, and Tycho.
COUNT.
What is this?
A miller, or a meal-sack set on legs?
The calendars have erred if Yule come yet.
Our clowns are welcome with the holidays:
Never till after harvest-home.
COUNTESS.
Hard words
Rebound the farthest when they strike our friends:
'Tis masker's sport. The taller of the two
Has seen a Countess at his knee. He lent
His life to prayers and pity—nay, he gave it,
Who hoped it not again.
TYCHO.
More fool for that.
280
Is this the Ferryman?
COUNTESS.
More fool—why so?
TYCHO.
The Counts, being wise, take pity on themselves.
They swim not home with half-drowned ferrymen.
It is the ass goes undermost.
COUNT.
No matter;
He goes the road to fortune. This may build
A bridge above the stream ye could not ferry,
Which runs so deep 'twixt penury and ease.
Now may he gallop dry-shod if he will. (offers a purse).
FERRYMAN.
There will be time to settle what is owing.
We cross the Danube ere I take my toll.
I have not done mine office yet, my lord.
COUNT.
So much as saving life is perfected.
FERRYMAN.
That part is not for payment. I will have
Full measure, length and breadth, nor more nor less.
It may be greater than my lord has thought of.
We reckon ere we part.
COUNTESS.
I fain would see
His face unshelled, who gives like Jupiter,
And takes like Rhadamanthus.
COUNT.
There must hide
Less wit than honesty beneath the crust.
OTHO.
If Tycho scorned the daughter of a king,
What chance have we to tempt him?
TYCHO.
Build the bridge!
Get Colen fairly on it, then I follow.
My place is close behind him. Wet or dry,
We ever pull one way. In this we differ,
His wits have blown his wisdom all to rags:
Mine do nor good nor harm.
COUNT.
Whence came that tempest?
281
The way of pride it came; by emptiness—
A foul and windy quarter. He puts off
The grace he had to eat his meat with patience:
So dreams of dreadful things—woe—witchcraft—wedlock!
If I rowed stokesman, I could trust my lord:
His money might come fairly, nevertheless.
Seeing that he is none other than he is,
I think no scorn of him.
COUNTESS.
Leave them to me.
My debt is greatest, and began the first.
Colen will take my surety for us both.
I did not covenant to pay with gold;
But shall find means to keep our bail from forfeit.
Wilt thou not trust me, Colen?
FERRYMAN.
No, my lady.
Let these bear witness that we two are quits.
Our river manners here are foul not false:
Therefore I pray have patience and endure them.
For your sake, no. There is a spell upon me.
None come so near me as to love me, hate me,
Befriend me, injure me, have dealings with me—
But fares the worse for me. Ask Catherine that:
Who suffers most, knows best. The poor man's cradle
Is looked upon by those same stars which shine
O'er purple couches at the birth of kings:
Their influence is alike, be it good or evil.
Few mark the narrow path which baseness walks in;
But each of us has one he needs must tread:
Our choice is how, not whither. I had given me
An easy-gaited spirit for life's road:
Strong hands, light thoughts, brave health, glad thankfulness.
These be good gifts, which none may share with me.
To wish me well is perilous.
COUNTESS.
That is risked.
I fain would make the hazard twice as great,
By doing after wishing.
FERRYMAN.
Wait awhile!
Sometimes our wishes are o'er-ruled in mercy.
Before they pray again, those lips may curse.
TYCHO.
Dost think that ladies curse, and slap their pockets,
282
Curse thee! Lord help thee! This is but by fits:
His speech was clerkly more than most till late.
Such muddy manners grieve not every day.
Speak for him, mistress Starlight!—Come thy ways—
She weeps, and cannot speak!
FERRYMAN.
Wilt row down stream?
These bodies should be looked for 'midst the wreck
And driftwood's tanglement. Old Dark and Screitch—
With eight or nine—and one a nobleman?
COUNT.
Who told thee so?
FERRYMAN.
Methought there was another—
A Count and Baron in the boat last night?—
Your lordship's kinsman told me so.
OTHO.
Did I?
FERRYMAN.
Ay, thou—the Baron Rabensberg.
OTHO.
I said
We looked for two.
FERRYMAN.
What tidings of them, then?
You looked for two—and one is present here:
Hast asked about the other yet—or no?
TYCHO.
Can the Count count his company?
FERRYMAN.
How now?
A nobleman not thought of!
OTHO.
Who says that?
FERRYMAN.
Why dodge and double like a pounded stote?
Is the man drowned? Was he aboard last night?
In twenty hours not asked for?
COUNTESS.
Altheim, speak—
I will know all.
283
A nobleman, good sooth!
The widow Ruful's innocent is missing—
Slipped out of sight to sleep beneath the thorns—
A fool, and mad beside, these forty years!
All throats are hoarse with hallooing up and down.
Or Melchior's colt is off with Gregorie's mule—
We hunt them east and west. A nobleman,
My lady's kinsman—some one said her cousin?
COUNTESS.
He is so.
FERRYMAN.
What has happened to him, then?
This Baron's lordship falls to son or brother—
His cousin the Count is not his heir, I trow?
Has he a brother, my lady?
TYCHO.
Cousins are cheap
As crabs at Martinmas.
FERRYMAN.
A shepherd's cur
Whose mongrel ancestors were hanged by scores,
Is better cared for here!
COUNT.
Take thy purse hence—
Or let it lie. (throws it down.)
OTHO.
He has been asked about.
FERRYMAN.
Then what the news, sir? He turned back again?
Was drowned—or how?
COUNT.
This knave grows insolent.
COUNTESS.
Speak—was he with you? I will know it at once!
FERRYMAN.
Where must we look for him? by land or water?
And how expect to find him, wet or dry?
The scabbard empty, or the sword within it?
A soulless body, or the two together?
OTHO.
My lord grows faint. The otter-hearted brute,
284
Can lose no friends, nor guess why those who do
Should shudder thus, and grieve for them.
TYCHO.
Ye thought
The otter did not swim too fast last night;
But prized him for it.
COUNTESS.
Help us to the couch:
He swoons again! Wait here, child.
[Exeunt.
(Ferryman and Catherine remain.)
FERRYMAN.
What! in tears?
Still tears?
CATHERINE.
You forced them from me, Colen!
FERRYMAN.
I?
Then chide again, but smile again.
CATHERINE.
Some say
That not one day is happy all day through:
Therefore I should be patient. Less than half
Of one like this, would pay for ten of tears.
FERRYMAN.
What changed it thus?
CATHERINE.
I have heard many speak,
With all their wit, in praise of something like thee,
But what they said seemed little or amiss.
To-day, a skilful tongue has tired its music,
And made thy praises perfect.
FERRYMAN.
Didst not blush!
CATHERINE.
I did, as one that shared in them—yet hoped
To hear them every day, and follow hence
The sounds I loved the best.
FERRYMAN.
Whither wouldst go?
CATHERINE.
To Rabensberg or Schwannenstadt.
285
Indeed!
CATHERINE.
You gave me to the Countess, and she claims me—
My mother lends me. I shall learn to speak
With purer words, and walk with shorter steps.
FERRYMAN.
Forgetting home and ferrymen?—there is
No way so sure. Thou dost not weep for that?
CATHERINE.
Why push the open palm of kindness from us?
I have beheld thee patient with the froward:
While ribald ignorance has barked against thee,
Bow down thy head, like flowers before the wind,
To let its loud and ruffian gusts pass by—
Never till now ungentle. It is well
To shun, but not to scorn such thanks.
FERRYMAN.
Dost love
This Countess, Catherine?
CATHERINE.
Ay, too much, I fear.
FERRYMAN.
Too much—why so?
CATHERINE.
Because I did too soon.
Slow growths are surest. But she must be good!
I fain would have thee love her.
FERRYMAN.
So I do.
CATHERINE.
She calls me sister.
FERRYMAN.
I must grieve thy sister.
CATHERINE.
For my sake, not again!
FERRYMAN.
So near to greatness,
Wouldst not be great?
CATHERINE.
With all my heart, I would.
286
A Countess?
CATHERINE.
Ay, an Empress.
FERRYMAN.
What wilt grant me?
CATHERINE.
A crown.
FERRYMAN.
Heaven bless your majesty, if less.
CATHERINE.
Both crown and sceptre—globe and eagle too.
FERRYMAN.
Thy subjects, like thy mother, would dethrone me.
CATHERINE.
Farewell to greatness, then! I would become
That which I am again. Hark! Get thee gone!
[Exit Ferryman.
(Enter Countess and Otho.)
COUNTESS.
Excuse, and leave us, Catherine. (Exit Catherine.)
This way, sir.
Dost brave, or hast forgotten what I said?
OTHO.
Neither, my lady.
COUNTESS.
Why dost tarry, then?
OTHO.
I have an office here. My lord employs me.
This tarrying is in duty—his appointment.
How may I quit?
COUNTESS.
A faithful servant, truly,
Whom yet his lord must learn to do without!
The river runs between us ere we sleep—
Choose thou the side that pleases thee.
OTHO.
Till now
There was no time for choice, and now there is
No power on my part—since he chooses for me.
287
Canst thou not feign some present haste?
OTHO.
What kind?
Suggest the occasion for it.
COUNTESS.
I suggest!
What wrong have I done? Wherefore help to hide one?
I lack the readiness of ancient use—
A lie would make me blush. Thou hast at hand,
Beside the gifts of nature, art and practice.
Large as they were, long study must have helped.
OTHO.
These arrows stick, indeed: but some as sharp
Have pierced the innocent too! My kinsman needs me.
COUNTESS.
Needs thee for what?
OTHO.
To find a landing-place.
COUNTESS.
A perilous charge! I prithee set about it.
Then trust thy learning to the ferrymen,
And so pass on. They may report the issue.
OTHO.
It is a perilous charge—ill fit for them.
My lord has business which they share not with me.
His work is better perfected alone.
COUNTESS.
It should be little fit for honest men,
If left to thee in preference.
OTHO.
So it is.
The worse and harder part he did himself.
I take the rest of it.—My lord expects me.
COUNTESS.
He did expect to find a beggar thankful:
He looked for truth, and thought that he might trust thee.
OTHO.
He doth so still; beyond my seeking too—
Less for mine ease than his.
288
What wouldst thou, sirrah!
Speak plainly if thou canst. Let loose the leash
Which holds back insolence. Darest thou say this!
And this to me since yesterday? Be brief:
Tell me what trust?
OTHO.
It would be marred if published.
COUNTESS.
Employs thee in it?
OTHO.
Full trust—sole agency—
Especial preference in a charge of weight.
COUNTESS.
The more his need to learn his secret's safety:
And mine the more to warn him.
OTHO.
Scarce in time
For his behoof. I shall be spared my pains—
So profit most.
COUNTESS.
By chastisement, or how?
OTHO.
He lacks both heart and instrument for that.
The sheath came safe ashore, but not the weapon.
COUNTESS.
Dost brave the sick in bed? Art so much bolder
Because his sword is lost? Both coward and traitor?
OTHO.
I know where I may find it.
COUNTESS.
Thou dost know
That shame is sometimes patient of its wrongs;
Since vengeance on the base is near to baseness.
I risk it nevertheless. Come in!
OTHO.
Beware!—
This ruin is not mine! Hush, hush!—for his sake!
If present, he would ask it on his knee.
Better to face that last-night's tempest twice,
Than meet such witnesses, with me before them.
Tell what you will to him.
289
A braggart now—
To-morrow a beggar, too.
OTHO.
Beware of that
Which may turn love to hate!
COUNTESS.
If scorn may do it,
I would attempt impossibility,
And strain abhorrence yet.
OTHO.
Go gently with me
Sole heiress of John Rabensberg's sole brother—
Count Altheim's wife—I warn her.
COUNTESS.
She defies thee!
Gertrude of Rabensberg has never answered
A threat in other words, nor will she ever.
If ruin rest with thee, let it come down;
I called thee traitor—coward.
OTHO.
And so is he.
COUNTESS.
Who is?
OTHO.
Count Altheim—both of them.
COUNTESS.
Well-timed,
And reckoned carefully!—his sword is lost.
OTHO.
I go to find it.
COUNTESS.
Whither?
OTHO.
Where he left it.
—So now for heart to second all this bravery—
Fixed in your cousin's back—your elder cousin's—
Not John's—he stabbed that too—with other weapons:
This time it was the Baron Rabensberg's—
Brother to him who was betrothed, half-married,
Belied, supplanted by his friend and brideman.
I spare no repetitions. I speak out.
My work is not for ferrymen:—and yet
290
One brother fell in battle—both are slain—
The elder by that sick-man's hand last night.
Count Altheim's sword is in the Baron's back,
The Baron's in its sheath. I go to seek them.
COUNTESS.
What liar said this?
OTHO.
Count Altheim told it me:
A liar confessed—his wife was gained by lying:
But haply here he may be credited.
Go, wake this husband—tell him what I say—
Bring him, and call his servants.
COUNTESS.
Bravely done!
I must, at last, in part retract my scorn—
Excess of wickedness has something great!
Dost think I credit half one word?
OTHO.
I do.
Else why so pale? All three are ruined now!
The spot on which to test me is at hand;
A mile, or less, below the crossing-place.
Send all the servants—both the ferrymen;
Wilt trust us if we bring this cousin's corpse?
COUNTESS.
Stop here—who told thee so?
OTHO.
Count Altheim told me,
Who would excuse this second murder thus,
He slew his own confederate in the first;
For John was foully murdered—slain in battle—
But stabbed to death before. Look, tears at last!
Ah me! a lie gained easier credence once,
Than truth does now! But call your wisdom back—
Chain up this frenzy! we may heal all yet:—
A credulous infidel!
COUNTESS.
Count Altheim told it?
OTHO.
I say once more, his sword is in the corpse.
He needed help to hide it—so revealed it—
And not as giving vent to yeasty conscience,
291
To sound the river with these ferrymen;
Seek out a landing-place, and leave them there:
Then walk below, to sink our lordship-sharer
Where justice may not find him. He lies near,
Not in the stream. You scourged the apple from me—
This Baron shared the guilt, but not the gain—
His conscience grew perplexed—and late remorse
Might breed offence. All three of us are traitors—
One only stabs men's backs! At last you trust me?
COUNTESS.
What wouldst thou have?
OTHO.
But little till I earn it:
No more than silence, yet.
COUNTESS.
Then cease and leave me.
[Exit Otho.
COUNTESS.
Both dead! one murdered!—It is come at last!
Our seven years' knot is loose enough! I pay
In full to heaven the purchase of my pride!
And this knave too—who smiles and teaches silence—
He holds my ruin in his hand! He will
At better leisure talk of love again!
Threaten and smile, by turns! In pity he
Will hint but now and then at former scorn,
Content with present suppleness!—He will?
Ah, will he so? And must I watch the face
Of double murder?—hold my peace before it?
Shall pride which, like the fiend, has led to this,
Forsake me now? Stronger than love or pity,
It drove him out who was too meek for vengeance,
Too noble for complaint!
[Exit.
END OF ACT IV.
| The Ferryman, or The Translated Escutcheon | |