University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Ante-room in Lorn Castle, opening upon terrace as in Act III. Moonlight.
Enter Isabel and Roland.
Isa.
How shall I thank thee—how repay this debt?

Rol.
With one of your kind smiles.

Isa.
And Janet's love;
Is it not so? Though generous hearts like thine
Find in themselves reward. Yet, if Heaven help me,
Thy lot shall match thy worth. Now to my sister,
And bid her join me.

Rol.
Straight. [Going.]
Stay, I'd forgot.
In our discourse this letter.

[Gives it.
Isa.
Ah, for me?

Rol.
One, whom I think his peasant's garb disguised,
Gave it me at the gate. His suit was urgent
That it should reach you.

Isa.
[Aside, opening letter.]
From my husband!
'Tis precious news, my Henry comes. Speed, speed!

Rol.
Madam, your sister!

[Roland goes out.
Enter Katharine.
Isa.
Well, your face tells all.
You sued to Strathmore, and in vain!

Kath.
He swooned
In anguish at my feet—his frame a reed,
But, oh! his honour—rock!

Isa.
His honour, girl!

Kath.
'Tis not for minds like ours to judge of Strathmore.

Isa.
You love him!

Kath.
Peace, I say! You speak to one
Frenzied by grief!

Isa.
There may be hope.

Kath.
Hope!

Isa.
Ay!
Strathmore's dependants form Sir Rupert's guard—
Men whom your father did of old befriend.
I've seen them, thanks to Roland, moved their hearts
By memories of past kindness. Let but Henry
Appear before the walls, my life on't, these
Go over to his banner!

Kath.
O my brother!
If he could guess our strait!

Isa.
He does, and waits
But to collect his force;—here's tidings from him.
See, by the date, with those in his command,
He should be here already!

Kath.
If he fail!
Ah me! an inner voice knells in my heart.
My brother vanquished—where's my father's life?
Victorious—where is Strathmore's? Not a wind
But drives me on the rock:

Isa.
Your gloom infects me. Forth upon the terrace;
There watch you; 'tis a balmy night. Nay, sweet,
I'll have it so, for I must plan alone.
[She leads Katharine to the terrace, and returns.
To gain delay. How best to compass that?
Who comes? Brycefield, the caitiff who would trade
With a wrung heart! Must I dissemble yet?

Enter Brycefield.
Bryce.
Rebuke me not, fair sorceress, with a frown,
That I o'erstaid my time.

Isa.
Sir, I most freely
Forgive your absence.

Bryce.
[Approaching her.]
Scorner! I must woo
Those lips to seal my bliss, must hear them pledge
The prize my own for which I venture life—
Your hand, your love!

Isa.
But love, sir, has its duties,
And these ask time to learn.

Bryce.
No need of time
To teach thee how to love.

Isa.
Oh, it needs much
To love you after your desert! So brave,
So stamped with honour are you, modesty,
Summing your riches, is abashed to claim them.

Bryce.
What! do you trifle, lady—do you mock
My flag of amity? Then I hoist war's!
If that fond siege be war which would subdue
Only to cherish thee. I know your wiles—
That you have practised on my guard! A word
Of that—suspicion roused—your father's fate
Waits not for dawn: he dies this hour!

Isa.
O heartless—

Bryce.
Madam, the game at chess grows critical.
I move again.

Isa.
[Aside.]
On what a brink I stand!
[She moves to terrace and returns.
Fly, Henry, fly! [With feigned gaiety.]
So you play boldly, sir.

Bryce.
You dally with me, while each moment lost
Doubles our risk. I have provided all
For instant flight. Be thou but kind, the bolt
Falls from Sir Rupert's dungeon! In his name
I seize that beauteous hand!

Isa.
[Turning to the terrace.]
How looks the night?

Bryce.
Sweet, 'tis a night for love!

Isa.
The moon doth wear
Her full-orbed crown, and through a special court
Of stars, moves queenlike.

[Intently gazing from the terrace.
Bryce.
Turn thee to the earth,
Thy glance makes brighter! gaze not at the stars!

Isa.
Of old, men read their fate there. I seek mine.

Bryce.
What dost thou ask them?

Isa.
If it be my lot
To find a husband.

Bryce.
And with one accord
They answer—

Isa.
Hush! [Aside.]
Methought I heard a sound.
[A pause.
'Tis but the far sea flowing.

Bryce.
Are the skies
Dumb, or thou blind? Thou canst not read their speech!

Isa.
Canst thou?

Bryce.
Plainly; why, look! love's radiant star—
Bright Venus—laughs reply; and all the spheres
Around her echo—Thou shalt find a husband!
Say they not so?

Isa.
[With sudden transport.]
They do—they do!

Bryce.
[Sinking on his knee.]
Behold him!

Isa.
Up, up, and give him welcome! See, he comes
First in a tide of plumes! a thousand swords
Flash in his wake! He will requite your love,
Doubt not!

Katharine rushes in.
Kath.
'Tis Henry—my brother!

[Martial music heard in the distance.
Bryce.
How!

Isa.
My husband!

Bryce.
Husband!

Isa.
Summoned by you. That letter to the chaplain,
By you despatched, contained another scroll!
'Twas superscribed, “To Henry Lorn; ride, ride
For life!”—he's here. I won on you to change
Sir Rupert's guard, and you unwittingly
Placed friends for gaolers. The game's won—checkmate!

Bryce.
I like thy spirit, wench! but I have yet
A pawn to move perchance may queen the board;
The game's not over. Tremble if I win.

[Rushes out by the terrace.
Kath.
He may devise some evil to my father!

Isa.
Well thought of, girl! Let's seek out honest Roland.
Fear not! the guard are ours.

Kath.
Quick, to Sir Rupert!

[They go out.

SCENE II.

Spacious room in Lorn Castle, as before.
Enter Hamilton and Craigburn.
Craig.
I tell thee, I mistrust him! He gave audience
To the malignant's daughter; yea, we found him,
When she went forth, prone on the very ground!
Thence, being raised, there struggled through his speech
Vague hints of coming rescue.

[Artillery heard without, repeatedly.
Ham.
'Gainst which he had provided. See, he comes.
That head erect, and frank eye, speak no traitor!

Enter Strathmore, his sword drawn.
Strath.
Forth, brothers, forth! the foe is at the gates!

Craig.
Is there no foe within the walls?

Strath.
What mean you?

Enter Brycefield.
Bryce.
Revolt and treason! Your dependants, Strathmore,
Throw off the yoke of fealty, and join hands
With the invaders! Terror strikes the rest.

Ham.
Have you betrayed us?

Craig.
Answer, at what price
Is Israel sold to Edom?

Strath.
Craigburn! [Restraining himself.]
No,
'Tis not for thee at such an hour to move me.
Think of our cause!

Ham.
Your cause?

Strath.
Have we not staked
Name, home, love, life—the sum of all our being—
On freedom's ransom?

Craig.
Heed him not, retreat!
Retreat, I say! As yet the rearward path
Lies open.

Strath.
Quit your ground of vantage? No,
Forth with me to the ramparts! Those who doubt
Shall trust again, and our live torch of honour
Rekindle those in ashes, till the walls
Blaze with one glory!

Ham.
He says well.

Craig.
Beware!

Strath.
Alone I'll meet them!

Bryce.
I'm your mate.

Ham.
Nay, follow.

[All go out. Alarums.
Isa.
[Without.]
Forth to the fray! Then to me with your tidings.
Enter Isabel.
Still they contend. Would that the fight were o'er,
And Henry safe. A lull! ah, many a wreck
That sanguine tide shall leave upon the strand!
Enter Roland.
What news?

Rol.
Brave news. They yield!

Isa.
Who yield? the rebels?

Rol.
Panic has seized them, and your husband's troops
Force easy passage. Brave Sir Rupert's free!

Isa.
Where is my sister?

Rol.
At her father's side.
By her command I brought her where he is.

[Hurried steps and voices heard without.
Isa.
The tramp of hurrying steps. That voice!

Rol.
Sir Rupert's!

Isa.
My husband with him!

Enter Henry Lorn, Sir Rupert, and Katharine leaning on her father. Roland goes out.
Hen.
Isabel!

Isa.
My hero! [They embrace.]
Dear Sir Rupert!

[Taking his hand.
Sir R.
So, lass! my brave boy's succour has postponed
Your heritage awhile. But for that aid,
Another sun had seen him Lord of Lorn!
How went it with the knaves?

Hen.
Some few were slain,
Some taken; but their leaders, by the steeps
Where horsemen might not follow, have escaped—
Save one I shrink to name.

Isa.
Strathmore!

Hen.
Yes, wounded.
Our force had beat him down: he must have perished
But for my rescue.

Sir R.
Though he merits death,
Yet am I glad he fell not by our sword.

Hen.
Alas! his doom is but delayed. Fierce Dalzell,
Who, under Monmouth, through a bloody field
Has chased the rebels, hither hastes his march.
He will demand the prisoners at our hands.

Kath.
My father!

Hen.
Dalzell bears a heart of flint
That ne'er knew pity; I have heard him name
Strathmore with those whose doom, when seized, is death—
Without reprieve or trial.

Kath.
Do you hear?

Sir R.
My child! I would not cloud this day with grief,
Nor can thy father stoop to base revenge.
Yet, mark! I will not shield persisting treason.
If Halbert Strathmore formally subscribe
Such recantation of his guilt as I
Will forthwith frame, and, to atone it, pledge
A loyal future, by our tried allegiance
I will beseech his life. I think even Dalzell
Will grant that boon to service proved like ours.
But heed me, Katharine, if Strathmore spurn
These terms of mercy, though he were my son,
I would not waste a breath!

Hen.
His party crushed,
Persistence now were madness.

Kath.
One more boon—
That your conditions I may bear to Strathmore.

Sir R.
Be it so, girl! He may prove obdurate.
Remember, though, this meeting is your last.
You parley with the rebel, not the friend!
Come! I'll prepare the bond.

Kath.
I'll follow you.
[Sir Rupert, Henry, and Isabel go out.
Rebel! what means that word? Fear for my father
Has blinded me to truth: now I see all!
Right trampled on—pure conscience counted crime—
And hatred banqueting on good men's groans!
My brother owned it! And the man who beards
This wrong's a rebel! Sure, the courts of heaven
Are peopled with the outcasts of this world!
My Halbert! Oh, he will reject these terms!
I dare not think on that. One last farewell—
One prayer to save him ends my dream of life!

[She goes out.
Enter Strathmore, wounded, supported by Roland.
Rol.
Lean on me, sir; lean on me! You are faint,
I saw you struck. Your wound needs rest and quiet.

Strath.
[Sitting.]
Good friend, I feel it not!

Rol.
So sharp a hurt
Asks better surgery than you afford.

Strath.
Dalzell, you say, comes hither?

Rol.
Ay, sir!

Strath.
Then
Each captive's fate is sealed. Beseech Sir Rupert
To give me audience. [Aside.]
My offence being chief,
My death should free the rest.

Rol.
I'll do your bidding.

[He goes out.
Strath.
Could I save the rest,
I'd know no other care! My soul breathes freely—
Leaving all with God. As through half-open gates
Of Death's grim arch, I catch the fields of day.
Yet, Katharine! there earth's fond, last weakness clings.
To her my name must be a thought to shrink from.
I shall not have a tomb in that fair realm
Where I had once a home.
Enter Katharine, with a paper.
[Rising.]
Has my heart's cry
To look on thee been heard?

Kath.
We meet once more—
To part for ever!

Strath.
With a faltering voice
You say it—not in hatred!

Kath.
Hatred! [Looking mournfully in his face.]
Oh, how fierce
Has been thy struggle!

Strath.
Can you feel
That I have struggled?

Kath.
Nobly! Yes, I know it.

Strath.
You know it, and absolve me! You will bear
To think upon my memory!

Kath.
Thy memory!
While I can bear to think.

Strath.
I did not hope
For this. I shall die smiling!

Kath.
Die! thou shalt not!
My father and my brother, who have served
The royal cause so well, will plead with Dalzell.
Sign but this scroll!

[Gives it to him.
Strath.
[Feebly, after perusing it.]
Ah! know'st thou what conditions
The bond demands?

Kath.
I do.

Strath.
That I confess
My treason, and abjure it, never more
Further my righteous cause by tongue or sword,
In act become a traitor—to escape
A traitor's sentence!

Kath.
But your cause is crushed!

Strath.
Crushed! No, it triumphs still. Though freedom's hosts
Bleach the green earth with death, that cause is safe
That has its Chief above?

Kath.
You will not sign?

Strath.
And canst thou ask me?

Kath.
Ay, while I have breath.
Who gave thee right to quench my life in thine?
Though we must part, 'tis comfort still to think
One world contains us. I should curse the sun
If it could light a world that held not thee!

Strath.
My Katharine!

Kath.
'Twas you upheld my steps
When we were children. On the hill-side flowers
The golden gorse, from which you plucked the thorn
That else had harmed me. In the brook still float
Lilies like those we wove. Another spring
Will find them there—but thou!

[Falling on his neck.
Strath.
My truth! my truth!

Kath.
I will not let thee go. Ere see thee perish,
I'll burst all ties of duty, dare all shame,
Renounce all kindred! They are gone! Be thou
Friend, father, brother, home, and universe!

Strath.
Forbear, forbear!

[Sinks into chair.
Kath.
Whate'er I know or feel
Of good, you taught me. You relent; you'll sign?

Strath.
[Feebly, but with increasing energy as he proceeds.]
You shall decide. [She kneels by his side.]
Two paths before me lie,
The one through death to honour—

Kath.
Halbert!

Strath.
Nay,
There are but two! First, say we choose the nobler—
Then wilt thou think of Strathmore as of one
Who, by his last act, fitly sealed a life
He would bequeath thee spotless.

Kath.
Ah, bequeath!
And I shall never see thee more!

Strath.
[Pointing upwards.]
Yes, Katharine!

Kath.
The other path?

Strath.
It leads to life through shame.
Wouldst have me take it—live to own no bond
But with dishonour; when I catch the tale
Of heroes, vainly groan—“Such once I was!”
And when the coward's shudder—“Such I am!”

Kath.
This gloom will melt in a bright future.

Strath.
No;
He has no future who betrays his past.

Kath.
Still live!

Strath.
To give the lie
To my true youth; find every stream of joy,
When I would drink, reflect my branded brow,
And so recoil; shrink, when thy straining breast
Throbs to a traitor's; read in those dear eyes
The temptress, not the wife!

Kath.
Cease, Halbert! cease!

Strath.
[Rising.]
Speak, shall I sign?

Kath.
[Starting to her feet.]
No—die!

Strath.
[Embracing her.]
My wife! my Katharine! we are one for ever.

Kath.
Teach Fate that truth, that we may die together.

Strath.
Fount of my peace! my own!

Kath.
I am at rest.
How is it with thee?

Strath.
Sweet, sharp care has mined
The bulwarks of my life, and thy great sea
Of love doth overflow it!

Enter Henry Lorn, Sir Rupert, and Isabel.
Hen.
Where's the confession? Dalzell comes; your judge!

Kath.
Help, Henry!

Hen.
Strathmore!

[Supporting him as he sinks.
Kath.
You are come too late!

Strath.
No, love is ne'er too late. Harry! old playmate!
Is that Sir Rupert?

Hen.
Speak to him!

Sir R.
A night
Deepens upon his face. Halbert, this hour
Blots all our rancours, and I but behold
Thy father in thee!

Strath.
We're at peace—all, all!
I pray you to deal gently with my brethren.

Isa.
Lean on my bosom, sister!

Kath.
No; 'tis well!

Strath.
Where art thou, Katharine? [She kneels, and places her hand in his.]
So—I turn my life
To the bright East, where all its beauty rose,
And sleep beneath its beam—we do not part!

[Dies. Isabel and Sir Rupert advance as if to remove Katharine, who motions them away.
Kath.
I am his now—I am his own in death!

[She falls prostrate on the body.