 | Life for Life |  |
ACT III.
[SCENE I.]
Scene.—Noonday. A valley in the Highlands. A wood of oaks at back. Mountains in the distance. On one side an arched gateway, leading to an old tower. Rude rustic benches, with the massive felled trunk of an oak, are scattered about. An old rough stone of some size, which serves for goal in the race, is seen on side of stage opposite to gateway. As the curtain rises, it discovers the clansmen of the Clan Mackane, with other men and women of various ages, including children of both sexes from the neighbouring glen and village. Michael and Colin, as near connections of the chief, wear each an eagle's feather in his bonnet. Other Clansmen wear each in his bonnet a sprig of holly, as the badge of the Mackane. As the curtain rises, shouts158
1st Chorus.
Allan!
2d Chorus.
Dougal!
1st Chorus.
Allan!
Allan enters, running rapidly towards the stone, the goal, amidst the applause of the greater part of spectators, who exclaim, “Well sped, Allan! Allan!” Dougal enters almost instantly after Allan, and runs after him to the goal.
Col.
[Clapping Dougal on the back.]
Take heart, good Dougal! He need nothing boast;
You'll beat him yet. You're the chief's thirteenth cousin,
And, by my reckoning, he is but the twentieth.
Eff.
[Soothingly.]
Indeed you ran him hard.
Doug.
[Panting.]
A minute more
I'd past him—see, he pants, while I—I'm fresh
And sound of wind—scarce breathed!
[They laugh.
Eff.
Ay, ay, we know,
But that some sorry chance still plays you false,
You'd always be his master.
Doug.
Am his master.
Jest on. You're jealous that I danced with Rose.
Rose.
My next dance is with Allan.
Doug.
[To Effie.]
Let him take
My cast-off gear and wear it.
Allan.
Your cast gear!
Braggart!
Doug.
Braggart!
[They lay their hands on their sword-hilts.
Mic.
No strife! What! strife to-day,
When, till our scouts report the foe, we hold
High festival to welcome the return
Of Oscar, and our chief's brother, long deemed dead
Rose.
[To Allan.]
Hear you?
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[To Dougal.]
Take hands!
[Dougal and Allan somewhat sulkily shake hands.
Mic.
Be the time henceforth spent
In Oscar's honour.
[All but Michael and Colin disperse themselves over the ground. Some converse in groups standing, sitting, or reclining on the grass. Others examine the hammers which have been brought back. Others take up bows and arrows and prepare to shoot. Clansmen who went out return and join the rest.
Mic.
[To Colin, who has remained with him in front.]
But 'tis strange he comes not,
To share these sports with which our people greet him.
Col.
Oscar? He's still with Murdoch.
Mic.
'Tis not wise
In Murdoch to delay him.
Col.
You forget;
Murdoch's your chief.
Mic.
No more the chief he was.
Since that dark hour when by Macronald's band
His son, young Kenelm, was borne off and slain,
But one thought holds him, and his fitful will
Scarce brooks restraint of reason. Even here,
Where we have marched from home, that in this glen,
Our thinned force may the better cope with Cameron—
Here on Macronald's borders has he spurned
His offered peace, and challenged double strife,
Though weak to meet it single.
Col.
He's your chief.
Mic.
And leads us to our ruin.
Col.
He's my chief;
I'll follow him to ruin.
Mic.
Follow madness?
Col.
If madness be his humour, 'tis his choice,
Not mine. He's still my chief.
Mic.
Silence! he comes—
He and his brother Oscar.
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Sir O.
[To Clansmen and others.]
Kinsmen, friends,
Pardon if I, a seeming laggard, come
To thank your welcome of me, who went forth
A child, and am returned to you a man.
Beseech you make not my delay offence,
For I was held in counsel with my brother
On what concerns us all.
Mic.
[Taking Sir Oscar's hand.]
Thrice welcome, Oscar,
The brother of our chief!
Chorus of Clanspeople.
Ay, long live Oscar!
Col.
A welcome for the chief too; long live Murdoch!
[Waving his bonnet.
Some Clanspeople.
[With a fainter cry, in which the rest do not join.]
Ay, long live Murdoch!
Sir O.
[Aside.]
Cold greeting for their chief! [To Murdoch, who still sits abstracted.]
They greet you, brother.
I say your people greet you.
Mur.
[Half-rousing himself.]
Greet me? Thank them. Say that I thank them.
[Relapses into gloomy reverie.
Sir O.
[To Clanspeople.]
To the full, we both
Exchange our love with you—your chief and I.
But let your sports proceed. Here on the strath
Let each man draw his bow, and he whose shaft
In three encounters strikes the nearest home,
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Which from my foe in deadly fight I plucked,
Warring for France!
Col.
A costly prize! [To Clansmen.]
Put forth
Your best skill to deserve it.
All.
Ay! ay!
Sir O.
[To Murdoch.]
Brother, you
Will witness this contention?
Mur.
[Looking up.]
I? not now.
I have no humour for't.
Sir O.
[To Clanspeople.]
Affairs of weight
Engage my brother still. Some later hour—
Say two hours past the noon—shall you contest,
And he award, the prize.
Mic.
[To other Clanspeople.]
Even now our meal
Lies spread on yonder slope. Follow! To Oscar,
So late restored, we'll drain our cups.
Clanspeople.
Ay, full ones!
Mic.
You from the glen and village will partake
Our feast. Sweet, by your leave.
[To Effie, who proudly takes his arm.
Doug.
[Surlily.]
By my leave, Michael.
Mic.
By yours when she is yours.
Doug.
[Turning to Rose.]
Come, Rose!
Rose.
[Who slides her arm into Allan's.]
Too late!
I promised him the next dance.
[Going up with Allan.
Doug.
[Angrily.]
So!
Mic.
[Looking back on them as he is about to go out.]
Remember,
No strife, 'tis Oscar's day; a health to Oscar!
Eff.
Ay, ay, we'll all drink that.
Various Clanspeople.
A cup to Oscar!
[All Clanspeople and others, Murdoch, Oscar, and Colin excepted, rush out gaily, the men with their partners; the squire and page amongst the rest.
Sir O.
[To Murdoch, who still sits in gloomy abstraction
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Murdoch, their feast lacks its best grace, if you,
Our chieftain, hold aloof. With me, and join them!
Mur.
[Looking up.]
Join them in what? their mirth?
Sir O.
Their chief should make
Their mirth his own.
Mur.
'Tis well; you lesson me,
My new-found brother.
Sir O.
And your younger brother
By some ten years, I grant; I'd not offend.
[Going.
Mur.
[Softening.]
Nay, Oscar, go not. If the wide earth hold
Aught dear to me—the which I doubt—'tis thou.
[Looking earnestly at Oscar, then speaking to Colin, and laying his hand on Colin's arm.
Mark you not in his look a something—something
That hints the face we miss?
Col.
Our Kenelm's face?
Mur.
[In a low, fierce tone.]
Peace! Did I bid thee name him?
Speak not!
[He again falls into deep and gloomy abstraction.
Sir O.
[Seating himself on a bench by Colin, and speaking to him apart.]
Pray you,
What cause has moved him thus?
Col.
[Apart to Sir Oscar.]
Sir, 'tis a wound
That I did ill in probing. See! again
He's lost! [Pointing to Murdoch.]
His mood is on him. When it falls,
He shuns all converse, breaks not fast, nor gives
His nights to sleep, but sits in moveless gloom.
And yet, I have at times the luck or skill
To rouse him and dispel his evil hour.
I will essay it. Mark! I speak to you.
[Then addressing Sir Oscar in louder tone, that Murdoch may hear.
If you demand of me what deeds in fight
Your brother wrought, my task is hard to choose
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Upon his chin was down, not hair, when first
He drew claymore. When was it—when—say, chief,
[Turning to Murdoch]
When first blood dyed your steel?
Sir O.
[Who, with Colin, turns and observes Murdoch.]
He heeds you not.
Col.
[Musing.]
When, when? [Again addressing Murdoch.]
Was't not that far-off night
(What years have flown since then—'twas early spring—)
When our brave lads drove off the foeman's herds,
And we, belated, followed far behind?
See'st thou that night?
Sir O.
[Who, with Colin, still watches Murdoch.]
He's rapt; you squander breath.
Col.
[Still to Murdoch.]
That night of misty moonlight, when, like dogs
That track the boar, they with deep-chested yell
Strained on our path? [Apart to Sir Oscar.]
Now mark!
Sir O.
[Observing that Murdoch still sits motionless.]
You rouse him not.
Col.
[Still addressing Murdoch.]
Who were they that pursued
With yells and opening jaws? The accursed Macronalds!
Mur.
[Suddenly kindling into interest, and grasping Colin's arm.]
Ay, the Macronalds! Colin, thou say'st well.
Go on; what did I then? what then?
Col.
Thou knowest.
Some five, whose speed outstripped the rest, o'ertook
And hemmed us round. Then stood we twain at bay.
Mur.
[Excitedly.]
At bay, and, like the boar you spoke of, rent them
With tusks of steel. A living wall they stood;
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Thy axe made breaches there!
Col.
The more part sank
Beneath your arm.
Mur.
[Pleased.]
Thou say'st so!
Sir O.
At great odds
Did you contend!
Col.
[Exultingly to Sir Oscar.]
And he, young hawk, first struck
His quarry there! You had been proud to wear
His tartan later on Glen Allan's field.
Thrice at the Glen's mouth, with a shout that mocked
The ocean's roar, the fierce Macronald beat,
While with a scanty force your brother thrice,
Rock-like, repelled them—
Mur.
[Interrupting with glee.]
Till 'twas turn of tide,
And the roar sank, and all that sullen sea,
Moaning, ebbed out, nor left a trace behind
But the white surf of dead! Among their dead—
Ay, ay; say on; say on!
[To Colin.
Col.
Among their dead,
Three of Macronald's race—their bonnets bore
The eagle's plume—lay stretched.
Mur.
[Springing up exultingly.]
I had dealt on them!
I, only I!
Col.
Thou only, chief.
Mur.
[Laughing.]
Ha, ha!
Thy words are wine, brave heart! As I had known
Their ruthless tribe should one day from his lair
Hunt my poor whelp to death, I took revenge
Beforehand; but my heart, unslaked, could drink
Revenge as sand drinks water. I am parched
[Raising his hands to heaven].
More rain! more rain!
Col.
[Joyfully to Oscar.]
He's roused at last.
Sir O.
[Aside.]
By hatred
To Lilian's race! [To Murdoch.]
That you have borne dire wrongs
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Should sway a leader. If I hear aright,
The Camerons, counting on your wasted strengths,
Are now no less Macronald's foes than yours.
Against this new foe should you turn your swords
Forgetting former feud.
Mur.
Forget our debt
To the Macronald? I'd as soon forget
My mother's last kiss, or my dead wife's first,
Or my slain boy's parting clasp. To him and his
We owe our shorn strength, ravaged land, crushed pride—
Fuel enough for hate. But if in you
It smoulders, I'll throw oil on. [Motions Sir Oscar to trunk of felled tree, while Colin makes a deprecating gesture. Murdoch and Sir Oscar sit. A short pause.]
You came back
This morn as from the dead, and yet I smiled not.
You have seen my face light up—as the scarred cliff
Beneath the storm-flash—while a laugh more bitter
Than groans broke from me; but you have not seen—
You will not see me smile.
Sir O.
My brother!
Mur.
Yet
I once could smile, and, strange! for joy could weep,
I had a boy, in whose soft brow, clear eyes,
And trick of speech his mother lived again.
And often when he spoke a sudden echo
Surprised me from the ruins of my youth;
And when he trod the health my fancy leaped
The years to come, and saw the eagle's plume
Stream from his bonnet, as, with drawn claymore,
And our wild war-cry on his lips, he led
Our van to battle, as a comet leads
The trail of light behind it!
Col.
Ay; he ne'er
Had shamed his stock, chief!
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[Continuing to Oscar.]
Well, this boy, my Kenelm,
Who was to me—guess what an only son,
His mother in the grave, is to a father!—
Going forth to fight, I left him in the care
Of humble folk, whose lowly roof I deemed
Would be a safe and less suspected shelter
Than my own walls; but there the hunters tracked him,
Seized, bore him off, and doubtless dyed their hands
In a child's blood. My Kenelm! [Pauses in paroxysm of grief.]
Ask you still
Why for one hope I live, and only one,
Revenge upon his murderers?
Sir O.
[Giving his hand to Murdoch.]
My heart, brother,
Bleeds at this deed abhorred. Not less than you
Would I pursue the doer.
Mur.
[Half suspiciously.]
Sir, I thank you;
I had so much believed.
Sir O.
But could Macronald,
Or kin of his, be privy to such horror?
No, 'twas some caitiff follower!
Mur.
[Withdrawing his hand, and speaking bitterly.]
You can weigh this!
You're nice in right! What hunted creature asks
Of the pursuing throng whose spear transfixed it?
It turns and rends the foremost. Save you, sir,
I was a father, and your temperate virtue
Offends my too rash blood. Farewell, just brother!
[Going, he turns to Colin, who is following him, and waves him back.
Not now, I'd be alone.
[Murdoch goes out by gateway into tower.
Sir O.
[Aside.]
When he shall learn
That to Macronald's child I stand betrothed,
What bounds will curb his fury?
Col.
Look you, sir,
The chief went hence in anger; you do ill
To cross his mood.
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How if his mood go wrong?
Col.
Your part is still submission. If I bid
My dog to leap a chasm, though the plunge
Be death, he takes it. What your chief has willed
Is your will; or it should be.
Sir O.
And it might be,
Were I his dog.
Enter Michael hastily.
Mic.
Kinsmen, I bear grave news.
Those we sent forth have learned by sure report
That Cameron, whose advance we deemed was near,
Falls back towards England.
Sir O.
England!
Mic.
Whence by bribes
And pledge of Scottish spoil he gains allies.
Thus reinforced, he bends his swollen strength
At once against Macronald's clan and ours.
Col.
Then but one choice is left, to sell life dearly.
Sir O.
Were it not wisdom if, with your old foes,
You now made league 'gainst new ones?
Col.
League! no league
With the Macronalds!
Mic.
Others say not so.
[To Oscar.]
Know you not then that three days since their chief,
Young Malcolm, proffered peace and his alliance
Unto your brother?
Sir O.
[Joyfully.]
Was this so?
Mic.
Albeit,
Old rancours in our breasts at first prevailed,
To both clans had this union been safety,
To ours existence. That we were most rash
To spurn it, hour by hour grows clear to all.
Sir O.
Then it was spurned?
Mic.
Almost before 'twas utter'd.
Col.
By Murdoch, who with scorn drove back the envoy.
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All this admits of cure. Murdoch, a Scotsman,
No less than chief and clansman, when he hears
That Cameron fees English swords against us,
Will join with Malcolm!
Col.
[Aside.]
Will he so? 'Tis fit
He learn your scheme betimes.
[He goes out by gateway towards tower.
Sir O.
I'll seek my brother.
How takes Macronald this?
Mic.
Even as befits
A name we hate but honour. He prepares
To leave his castle, and pursuing Cameron,
Engage him ere by English succour joined.
Sir O.
Would Murdoch did the like.
[Going.
Mic.
'Twere well.
[A shout without of “A dance! A dance!” Some of the Clanspeople are here seen entering at back, and motioning to the rest.
But see our people,
Now from the feast press in for song and dance.
Stay for their sport; so shall you win their love!
Sir O.
Sir, I am theirs. 'Tis thus they show me welcome.
[Other Clanspeople re-enter, accompanied by men, women, and children from the neighbourhood, also Sir Oscar's knight and page. The two latter take seats to witness the dance. Foremost Clansmen, with cries of “Clear, clear the ground!” remove off the stage the trunk of felled tree, benches, &c. Others shout, “A song, a song!”
Sir O.
[To Michael.]
Their mirth well pleases me. These hearts so light
In danger's front are just the hearts to face it.
Eff.
[Who has overheard Sir Oscar.]
Sir knight, your speech smacks of the song we dance to.
Sir O.
Fair maid, let's hear that song.
[All approach their partners except Sir Oscar and Michael, who sit at side in front, and Sir
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Song.
Let every laddie take his lass,
And dance while yet he may;
For a clansman's life doth quickly pass
From song and feast to fray.
His arm round her waist and her lip to taste,
What time for care and sorrow?
The hours are fleet and her smile is sweet:
Dance to-day and fight to-morrow!
[A Highland dance, the dancers repeating the last four lines as chorus, reaching their plaids one to another, and swaying them gently in their hands from side to side. The dance, as it progresses, should in this and subsequent chorus, be also accompanied by excited cries and gestures on the part of those engaged.
And dance while yet he may;
For a clansman's life doth quickly pass
From song and feast to fray.
His arm round her waist and her lip to taste,
What time for care and sorrow?
The hours are fleet and her smile is sweet:
Dance to-day and fight to-morrow!
2d Verse.
Let every lassie take her lad,
And love him while she can;
Be this day bright, though the next be sad
When goes her own braw man;
His arm round her waist and her lip to taste,
What time for care or sorrow?
The hours are fleet and her kiss is sweet:
Dance to-day and fight to-morrow!
And love him while she can;
Be this day bright, though the next be sad
When goes her own braw man;
His arm round her waist and her lip to taste,
What time for care or sorrow?
The hours are fleet and her kiss is sweet:
Dance to-day and fight to-morrow!
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SCENE II.
A rude hall in the tower. Early afternoon.Enter from inner door Murdoch and Colin.
Mur.
How say'st thou? He would have me league with Malcolm!
In friendship clasp the hand our blood has stained,
Forego the sole sweet joy that life has left.
A retribution matchless as my wrongs!
Col.
Such is your brother's purpose. [Looking off.]
But he comes,
Doubtless to speak it.
Enter Sir Oscar from without, through open door.
Mur.
[To Sir Oscar.]
Tell me what's thy name?
You brought me seeming proof you were my brother.
'Twas false; if through your veins my blood did course,
You could not be at heart so alien.
Has Colin slandered you, or dare you tell me—
Me, chief of the Mackanes—you counsel friendship
With Malcolm of Macronald?
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Strife in brothers—
If they must strive—brooks no observer's eye;
I'll answer you alone.
Mur.
Go, Colin.
[Colin goes out.
Sir O.
Yes, 'tis true;
I counsel union.
Mur.
[With a tone of significant menace.]
Bold, even in a brother!
Sir O.
You grant your followers, worn by feuds, too weak
Singly to cope with Cameron; yet your force,
With Malcolm's joined, might brave him. You'll not doubt
What course befits you when you hear that Cameron
Leads English mercenaries 'gainst you both,
And, with the spoil from bleeding Scotland wrung,
Pays hireling stabbers! Murdoch, you'll protect
Scotland—our mother!
Mur.
Kenelm was my son.
Much I love Scotland, more I hate Macronald.
Sir O.
You stand here chief and leader. With your honours
Accept your duties. When the time admits
Of private vengeance, then be only Murdoch;
But now, when clan and country call on you,
Be Scotsman, chief, and gentleman.
Mur.
And cry
To Malcolm, I repent, I sue for aid!
Sir O.
You give as well as sue, if, following him,
You march towards England on the foe.
Mur.
[Eagerly.]
Has Malcolm
Set forth towards England?
Sir O.
So our tidings run.
Mur.
[Musingly to himself, but heard by Sir Oscar.]
Then his main force goes with him, and his castle
Defenceless lies. We're near it, on his borders!
Sir O.
What mean you?
Mur.
[Still to himself, but still heard by Sir Oscar.]
Yet he has nor wife nor child;
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Envenomed might pierce home; he mocks my vengeance.
Had Angus lived, he was a father; he
Had felt the pangs I bear. [As struck with a sudden thought.]
If a child's cry
Could reach him, 'mid the fiends', and startle hell
With a new torment! He has left a daughter.
Last night, 'tis said, she to Macronald's home
Returned—now dwells there! [Exultingly.]
Ay, we're on his borders!
Sir O.
[Fiercely.]
Hold, Murdoch;
What dost thou plan?
Mur.
[With a sinister laugh.]
You rouse me from a dream.
Methought I played a game, and rose no winner;
But still with equal fortune, child for child!
Sir O.
Speak! what's your thought? Heaven grant my fears have wronged you.
Plott'st thou against the freedom or the life
Of Lilian of Macronald?
Mur.
Ha! you're quick
To solve a riddle, brother.
[Laying his hand on Sir Oscar's shoulder.
Sir O.
Take thy hand
From my stained person, and unteach thy lips
That name of brother. If thou practise ill
On her, or by connivance suffer it,
Then look not to Macronald's line or Cameron's
For thy worst enemy, but find him here,
In me who own thy name and share thy blood,
But scarce forgive my mother that thou sprang'st
From the same womb that bore me!
Mur.
Does my sense
Serve or delude me? Do I hear or see?
Thou beard'st me! [Restraining himself.]
Go! the fire is in the cloud,
But bursts not yet. To shelter, boy; to shelter!
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What is the daughter of my rival's house
To thee—a stranger?
Sir O.
Stranger is she none,
To her I, sick and wounded, owed my life;
To her the love that crowns life. Know in her
My late preserver, and my wife betrothed!
Mur.
Betrothed! Thou! she! [Aside.]
I much suspect my thoughts
Of wandering. [After a pause, to him.]
Say it, if thou canst, again;
Thou wedd'st with a Macronald?
Sir O.
Not more sure
That yon sun shines than, if we live, we wed.
Mur.
Thy words smite on my brain, as on a door
Foemen with sword-hilts knock in time of war,
While those within, half-drowned in sleep, rise staggering,
And let in murder! To my wakening sense
So dost thou stand. False, not to me alone,
But to thy sires and clan; false to the dead
And to the living; false to tomb and altar;
To nature's instinct false, as if life's stream
Within the veins should roll back on the heart
That was its source, and choke it! False as—nay,
Thou'rt not this thing; say I but charge on thee
My fancy's monstrous growth; say thou'rt my brother,
And crush not him who called thy father, father!
[Throws himself in supplication at Sir Oscar's feet.
Sir O.
[Compassionately.]
I pity thee.
Mur.
Ay, thou wert ruthless else;
But dost thou yield? Thou dost!
Sir O.
I cannot yield
When only fury pleads.
[Turning from him. While Sir Oscar speaks these last words, enter Michael, Colin, and several other Clansmen.
Mic.
[On entering.]
Murdoch, these tidings
Should lead to prompt resolve.
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[Starting up, to Sir Oscar.]
Then meet that fury!
[Drawing his sword.
Words have no power to blast, be this my tongue.
[Rushes with sword on Sir Oscar, who seizes his arm, wrests sword from him, and throws it aside. Colin takes it up.
Mic.
His sword drawn on a brother!
[All but Colin look menacingly at Murdoch.
Sir O.
[To Michael.]
In brief madness,
Which cooler thought rebukes.
Col.
[Reaching Murdoch his sword, and speaking significantly apart to him.]
Though all else frown,
I'm still thy hand to do the thing thou bidd'st.
Mur.
[Feebly.]
You say well, Oscar. [Pressing his hand to his forehead.]
All here's storm and darkness.
[Significantly.]
If ever light break in, I'll better pay
The dues I owe you, brother! [To Colin.]
Lead me forth,
I'm feeble, and want rest.
[He goes out, leaning on Colin, who, as he goes out, turns and regards the rest with a look of fierce reproach.
Mic.
Oscar, our hope
Is fixed on you. He whom his frenzy rules
No more rules us.
Other Clansmen.
No more, no more!
Mic.
To counsel then, for all
Await your voice.
Sir O.
In what befits a brother
You shall command me. He is still my brother.
[All go out by open door, opposite to that by which Murdoch and Colin went out.
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SCENE III.
Sun fast declining; about an hour from sunset. An upper apartment of Malcolm's Castle. A door at side. Two large painted windows at back. Between them a narrow door (open), which commands a Gothic terrace, and gives a glimpse of a lake beyond. Another door at side. Three or four portraits of former Macronald chiefs, in their Highland and clan costume, on the walls; amongst these, conspicuous to audience, is a portrait of Lilian's father, Angus. Another portrait opposite side-door conceals a sliding panel. An oratory, with altar and plain crucifix, surmounted by a small lamp, not lighted in this scene, is also conspicuous to audience. Old armour, swords, shields, battle-axes, &c., grouped on walls.Enter Lilian, still dressed in slight mourning, and Roderick.
Lil.
What say'st thou, Roderick? The clan Mackane
Are on our frontier!
Rod.
Ay; from where they muster
They see our battlements. We from the convent
Returning, barely missed them. By heaven's grace
You're now 'neath Malcolm's roof; at home once more.
Lil.
[Involuntarily referring to Sir Oscar, and overheard by Roderick.]
Then is he near?
Rod.
Who? Malcolm! Well, you know
He with his followers pursues the Camerons.
He has left you thinly guarded; but fear not.
Lil.
What sound was that? [The panel slides open. Kenelm enters. Closes the panel, and advances. Lilian. Sportively.]
Ah, mischief! art thou here?
Why by that panel enter like a thief,
When all else use the door?
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Because I choose
To do what others do not, and I love
Things curious and forbidden.
Rod.
Then Dame Nature
Errend in thy sex; thou shouldst have been a woman.
Ken.
[Affecting despondency.]
Alas, I'm not a woman! Yesterday,
Descending by the secret stair whereto
That panel leads, I strove to thread the maze
Of winding vaults below; I'd torch in hand,
But lost my way. Now had I been a woman,
I'd found my way, for women are like cats:
They see best in the night, and are at home
In all that's dark and crooked. [Laughing.]
'Tis so, Lilian!
[To Roderick.]
'Twas she that taught me first the panel's trick.
To-day I'd better luck; kept straight my path
Through the oozing walls of stone, till mounting steps
Upbore me to a grate, which, pushed, gave way,
And I was in the sunlight—none to watch—
[With a sudden change to bitter sadness.
As free as when I trod my father's hills!
Lilian, I tell you, I will see my father;
Not all my love for you can stop the hunger
For home that gnaws me.
Lil.
[Placing her arm round him, compassionately.]
My poor Kenelm!
Rod.
[To Kenelm, emphatically and sternly.]
Boy!
Must you again be warned? Remember well
The vain attempt at flight might prove your death.
[Softening.]
Poor petted fawn! keep in thy lady's bower,
And thou art safe.
Lil.
[To Kenelm.]
Chide not! 'tis nature's self
Prompts his desire. Kenelm, though you must bear
This durance, still you know that Lilian's heart
Would beat even with your joy if you were free.
And yet she'd miss thee much.
177
[Taking both her hands.]
I do believe
You would have all free as you are—hold none captive—
[Archly.]
Except some wounded knight too early cured.
Well, wounded birds, uncaged, will oft fly back,
And so may he.
[Lilian turns from him rather sadly.
Rod.
[Admonishingly to Kenelm.]
Peace! peace! [A horn is heard without, followed by the tramp of a horse.]
A horn! And now
The tramp of horse! Perchance 'tis news of Malcolm.
Lil.
Perchance a foeman's summons. The Mackanes,
You say, are near?
[Kenelm, who is listening, slightly starts, then conceals his emotion.
Rod.
But humbled, and too weak
To brave your cousin's wrath.
Ken.
[Aside.]
How! The Mackanes
Are near—my father near! [Aloud, after a short pause.]
'Tis now the hour
When Randolph comes back with his hawks. I'll meet him,
And ask him of his sport.
Rod.
And to the hall
Will I, and find what stirs. 'Tis nought, dear lady,
To cause you fear: I will report full soon.
[To Kenelm.]
Come, lad!
Ken.
A moment. [To Lilian, with earnest tenderness.]
Lilian, if now
Or ever I have angered you—and oft
I've given you cause for anger—you'll forgive me?
The madcap always loved you.
Lil.
[Touched.]
Ne'er did Lilian
Doubt that, dear boy. [Kissing him.]
Heaven's blessing rest on thee!
Rod.
[Jestingly.]
Enough, enough! This sugar spoils the teeth.
Come, come, pet fawn!
Ken.
Say rather prisoned fawn.
Rod.
There's much to give and take, boy; the pet fawn
Is tethered and shut up; but the wild fawn—
178
[Interrupting.]
Is free—is happy!
Rod.
Humph! he's shot and roasted.
[Roderick and Kenelm go out by side door.
Lil.
[Sitting.]
Dear, hapless boy! His name was on my lips
When Oscar left me. I had almost said,
Your nephew lives! Well that I checked my tongue!
That knowledge then had led to new assaults
From Murdoch, which resisted, in the strife
The lad perchance had fallen! For his safety
I must be secret still; but when a bride
I fly to Oscar, he shall share my flight.
'Twill crown anew the royal hour we wed,
To say, Thy brother's son by me preserved!
Ah me! when comes that hour? Is all a dream?
Did he indeed lie wounded at St Catherine's?
Did I there tend him! And oh! did we part
But three days since? He promised on the third
To send a trusted friar, by whose report
I should our time and place of meeting learn.
The sun declines, and yet he has not sent.
Sir O.
[To Roderick without.]
She is within, alone?
Re-enter Roderick, followed by Sir Oscar, who still wears no plaid or other tartan, or any badge of the Mackanes.
Rod.
So please you, lady,
The stranger knight.
[Goes out.
Lil.
Thou, Oscar!
Sir O.
My heart's heart!
[They embrace.
Lil.
Thou'rt here indeed; but in this house, in peril!
Sir O.
No peril, love. None here surmise my birth.
I'm but a stranger and a knight from France,
By you befriended. No, sweet Lilian,
'Tis you who are in peril. In this fortress,
Feebly defended, you but court attack,
While enemies, if few, yet subtle, plot
179
Your danger, and in you would save myself.
Ere dawns to-morrow's sun, give me such right
As none else have to guard you. Be my wife!
Lil.
Thy wife to-night!
Sir O.
To-night.—I, with my train,
Will come and bear thee forth. A league from hence
A wayside chapel stands. There shall the priest
Await us; and, the rite performed, I'll lead thee
To the safe shelter of his sister's roof,
Where thou shalt bide till I returning claim thee.
Lil.
This night! Doubt not my love, but in that step
A girl takes passing from old life to new—
There's awe as well as joy! Grant time.
Sir O.
Thy danger
Of time admits not. Further know, my brother,
For gravest reasons, stands awhile deposed
From his command, and by the more part I
Am named his deputy. At break of day
I lead our clansmen to the aid of yours,
Who singly strive with Cameron.
Lil.
[In wonder.]
Your Mackanes—
They league with us—with Malcolm!
Sir O.
You shall learn
Hereafter how this fell; now hold it true.
Lil.
May this blest union ever bind you friends.
Sir O.
Heaven grant it, sweet; but to my suit. Once more
I say thou art in peril. Ere I don
A soldier's harness, let me bear thee hence
To a sure refuge. If thou still dost fear
These hurried nuptials, I obey thy will
And leave thee there unwed. But if—
Lil.
Stay, Oscar:
Thou goest to battle. He who gives the victory
Alone foreknows the end. I shrink no more.
Be it so. Ere thou goest, join our fates—
180
Then, com'st thou back a victor,
This swelling heart shall hail thee all my own;
And if—
Sir O.
If fate be darkest?
Lil.
Ay, even then
I should be blest, for I should join thee soon.
Till then, oh! dearer far thy memory
Than any hope surviving. I should know
That for some blessèd hours I called thee mine.
And, cleaving to that thought, look grief in the face
And say, I once was his! Take, take me, Oscar!
[She falls on his neck.
Sir O.
Perfect in trust as goodness! At thy word
I take thee. See, the sun goes down apace;
Ere it has set two hours, I will return.
[They turn towards door, which is open. Murdoch, disguised in the travelling garb of a minstrel, looks in at door. He wears a cloak with a hood, which partially conceals his face and quite disguises his identity.
Lil.
[Starting.]
Ah, look! who's he that on us bends a gaze
So strange and fixed?
Sir O.
Some pilgrim, by his garb. [Smiling.]
Why dost thou start?
[Advancing to door, and speaking to Murdoch, who is retiring.
Who art thou? What's thine errand?
Mur.
[Who assumes the gait, manner, and voice of an aged man, returns.]
A travelling minstrel I, who, on my way,
Have tidings for this house.
Sir O.
[To Lilian.]
Shall he approach?
His news may be of import.
Lil.
Ay, but go not.
Sir O.
[At door to Murdoch.]
Enter. [To Evan without.]
You, fellow, bear his harp.
181
Mur.
[To Lilian.]
Fair lady,
See I in you the daughter of the chief?
Lil.
Of him who was the chief—my father's dead.
Mur.
[Aside.]
'Tis she. [Aloud.]
These woful words must I repay
With sounds as harsh. As minstrel late I served
The young Monteith. Your father loved him well.
A rival of my lord in maiden's love
Slew him in strife o'er wine. These news I bear
To Monteith's distant kinsman, and was bid,
When journeying to him, to acquaint Macronald
With our dire grief.
Lil.
My father was the friend
Of the brave house you serve. I, as his child,
Lament its loss.
Mur.
Lady, a hapless house!
A century since, its head, in heat of youth,
Espoused the daughter of his enemy;
Since when the wrathful hand of heaven has pressed
Upon his line who broke the holy laws
Of pact and race. All that were heirs to him
Have come to ends untimely.
Lil.
[Aside.]
Strange! his tale
Sounds like a warning.
Sir O.
[Apart to her, smiling.]
Can this move thee?
Lil.
[In a low tone apart to him.]
No.
Thou art my fate. Whate'er betide, thou'rt mine.
[Oscar bends to her, and whispers reassuringly.
Mur.
[Aside, observing them.]
Ay, whisper, whisper! Let your amorous lips
Grow glued even in my sight. [Aloud, as Lilian and Sir Oscar turn to him.]
My errand told,
182
Short rest and shelter. Then I take my way.
Lil.
Take freely all you need; I ask not now
That you should prove your skill upon the harp,
Your journey's solace, doubtless. Ere you go
I may demand a lay.
Mur.
Whate'er you ask,
I am obedient. If the lay be harsh
And the strings jar and crash, bethink I'm old,
And my hand lacks its cunning. [Half menacingly.]
Else I'd win
Such music from the chords, the strain should dwell
On your charmed ear till life itself lapsed with it.
Lil.
I take your will for deed. Your name?
Mur.
'Tis Uric.
Lil.
Evan, conduct the minstrel to his chamber.
[To Murdoch.]
May food and rest refresh you.
Mur.
[Bowing low.]
I'm your debtor.
[Evan, bearing Murdoch's harp, goes to door. Murdoch slowly follows him.
Sir O.
[To Lilian.]
Time speeds, and bids me haste; remember, sweet,
Two hours past sunset I return.
Lil.
[Observing Murdoch, who at door turns and gazes on her intently.]
Again
That fixed, mysterious gaze!
[Murdoch follows Evan out by side door.
Sir O.
[Smiling.]
What dost thou fear?
Is't strange that minstrels' eyes, alive to beauty,
Should feed on thine?
Lil.
[Smiling, and trying to rally.]
'Twas folly, and 'tis past.
Sir O.
Then for brief while farewell. [Kissing her hand.]
When next I come
'Twill be to claim in thee a joy so sure
Nought can unbase it, and so absolute
It cannot know increase!
[Going.
183
[Following him to door.]
Thy voice, dear lord,
Doth speak for both our hearts. Till night farewell.
[Sir Oscar goes out by side door. Lilian gazes after him.
Lil.
[Returning from door, and sinking into chair.]
The hour is fixed, the hour that seals my bliss;
Yet bliss is solemn, and my heart lies hushed
Like earth before the dawn. Strange, joy should wear
A look that chills me. I could almost deem
Again yon minstrel's gaze, that, like a cloud
Enfolding thunder, veiled what still it showed,
Bent, moveless on me. Lilian, shame! art thou
The child of Angus? [Rising.]
Angus! [Arrested by her father's portrait.]
From the wall
His darkening mien upbraids me, that I blend
His foeman's blood with his. I'm fancy's sport.
[She again gazes on the portrait of Angus, her father, which gradually fades away, and changes slowly to the spectre of Graham's wraith, which is precisely the same in appearance, expression, and attitude as when seen in first act. Lilian continues to speak while this change takes place.]
And yet a horror broods in all the air,
Some spell still holds my sight. Ha! now it fades,
The pictured semblance fades; and now puts on
Some ghastly change! No more my father, there
It stands—again the vengeful spirit stands
That warns our house of danger. Is it death
That now impends? [After a pause.]
Stern phantom, when before
Thou cam'st in thy mute terror, I was firm,
Firm even to death! but now I love and fear.
If in thine awful, unconjectured home
Old thoughts of human love can reach thee still,
[Sinking on her knees.
Claim me not yet; have pity!
184
Ken.
[Apart to himself.]
One last look!
She knows not 'tis the last. [Aloud, perceiving Lilian, rushing to her, and placing his arm round her.]
Why Lilian!—
[As Kenelm rushes to Lilian, the spectre of Graham's wraith suddenly vanishes from the frame, in which the portrait of her father Angus resumes its place.
Lil.
'Tis gone!
[She reclines almost fainting in Kenelm's arms.
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