University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Before Lorn Castle. A terrace with ramparts overlooking an extensive prospect bounded by the hills.
Enter Katharine and Isabel meeting. Katharine is passing on without perceiving Isabel, who intercepts her.
Isa.
No, no, sweet Kate, you are my lawful prize,
Won dearly, not to be relinquished soon!
These lonely walks and indoor solitudes
Fit meditative age; but you are young.

Kath.
Ay, by the kalendar!

Isa.
Ill suit such moods
With loyal maiden's pride—this grief for him
Who in one breath disowned his double oath
To you and to his king. For shame—abjure him!

Kath.
Idolatry abjures not! It despairs.

Isa.
Tut, tut! despair's a word, a good broad phrase
To signify the heartache or weak nerves.
All women have it ere they wed. It means
That epidemic of young blood called love,
And only asks time's lancet for its cure;
It takes a thousand shapes! The schoolboy has it
At close of holidays; the maiden feels it
When her pet pigeon dies! Sometimes it comes
As a November fog! Count Grammont had it—
And sharply, when his valet brought not home
His suit for the Court ball; but—he recovered!
[Aside.]
Poor Katharine! I know she thinks me heartless,
And yet, to humour were to feed her grief.
Here comes your father!
Enter Sir Rupert.
Dear Sir Rupert—smile!

Sir R.
In times like these, when the king's flag retires
Before a horde of rebels!

Isa.
Your defeat,
If such it may be termed, chanced, as you said,
From inconsiderate zeal. So strong a post
The foe secured. You fought at desperate odds.

Sir R.
'Tis a disaster we shall soon retrieve.
What can a wild, ungoverned mob effect
'Gainst the trained force of kingdoms?

Isa.
Well then, smile!

Sir R.
[Taking her hand.]
There, there!

Isa.
Your lips smiled, not your eyes.

Sir R.
I know it.
A foolish thought distracts me! Long inured
To the stern trade of war, I've seen armed men
Fall in a heap before me, and then slept
Unvexed by conscience; but that aged face
I spake of—haunts my sight. I never drew
Before on the defenceless!

Isa.
Not a heart
But mourns the old man's fate; but still reflect
'Twas in an act denounced by law—

[Hesitates.
Sir R.
The law
Required, at least, that we should warn ere strike.
I struck and warned not, and my sword became
A knife for shambles. Keith had been my friend,
Sat at my board, clasped hand with me. Girl, girl,
As I rode thence, I felt as feels a murderer!

Isa.
[Aside.]
How hard to strive with self-reproach when just.

Sir R.
Stung by defeat, we found them in our path,
And ere reflection cooled our boiling rage,
It overflowed in fury.

Isa.
It is done,
Repented, and must be forgotten.

Sir R.
Come;
Some other them then!

[They walk up the terrace.
Kath.
Does my father stand
Thus self-condemned of cruelty? My kind,
My generous father! Who shall vouch for pity.
In sterner hearts, or that the cause is just
Which casts it out? O Halbert! Were you right?
Have those whom—tutored in a loyal faith
My heart denounced as traitors, been indeed
Ground down by injury? O, were you right?
So noble, so discerning, could you arm
In a base quarrel? No; it is a thought
To soothe my anguish. If thou wert deceived,
'Twas by misconstrued duty. So thy worth
Shines through my gloom, and, though for ever gone,
Thou art not lost while I can still adore!

[She goes out.
Sir Rupert and Isabel return to front.
Isa.
Brave Henry! Worthy of his name and sire
My gallant husband!

Sir R.
Should the royal troops
Be duly reinforced, we may expect him
The traitors who infest us to dislodge.
Our garrison is scanty, and we need
Some score stout fellows yet.

Isa.
These girding hills
Are a sure rampart.

Sir R.
True; we may defy
The knaves for weeks, and mock them till they starve.
[Shouts are heard, and the bell of the Castle sounds an alarm.
What mean those shouts? They ring the alarm!
Enter several Retainers.
How now!

Simon.
The castle is surprised.

Sir R.
Who kept the watch?

Robert.
Each man was at his post; the enemy
Assailed us under cover of the woods.

Sir R.
The bell is silenced; 'sdeath, they've forced the gates!
Ring round me, lads, for honour and your king!

Isa.
I'll with you.

Sir R.
No, to Katharine! If I fall
Bear her a father's blessing. On, brave hearts!
Stone bulwarks yield;—brave hearts are adamant.
On, cheerily, Lorn, for the king!

[He rushes out, followed by Retainers. Discharge of musketry, and shouts of conflict without.
Isa.
Heaven speed you!
Would I were of them! Yet our Katharine's safety?
The clamour's at its height. [A pause.]
Now conflict's thunder
Mutters itself away; the bolt has fallen.
On whom? Dear Katharine! What, beset!

As she is going, enter Soldiers, headed by Brycefield.
Bryce.
[Advancing to her.]
Fear not!
Sir Rupert, lady, is our prisoner;
But his fair daughter—such I deem you are—
Needs dread no violence.

Isa.
We do not dread, sir,
The thing we scorn.

Bryce.
Harsh payment for harsh duty.

Isa.
Fulfil it without words.

Bryce.
That you are safe.
Accept this proof—our band is led by Strathmore.

Isa.
By Strathmore!

Bryce.
Once your father's friend.

Isa.
Is't true?
[He signifies assent.
Why then forgive my scorn. Your treason's white
Beside his foulness.

Bryce.
[Aside.]
She is wondrous fair!

Isa.
A something in your mien
Denotes you foreign to these boors: you learned not
This courtly grace from them.

Bryce.
[Aside.]
By heaven, a wench
Of rare discernment! Beauty's presence, lady,
Can civilise the savage.

Isa.
Speech so bland
I fain would couple with a name, and yours is—

Bryce.
One that was honourable till I bore it;
My name is Brycefield.

Isa.
You were ill baptized;
That name is writ in loyal annals.

Bryce.
Ay!
And by my father's sword.

Isa.
If this be so,
You bear within more keen reproach than mine.
Is't possible? Your escort to the castle!

Bryce.
Way, there; fall back! I am your beauty's debtor.

[She gives him her hand; martial music heard behind; he conducts her out.