University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—A Chamber.
Prince Rupert, Wilton, Horner, Wabble, and Mrs. Wabble, discovered.
Hor.
This I assure you is the truth; the culprit
Is this George Fenwicke. Colonel Wyndebanke
Is still in honour stainless.

Prince R.
As you think.
But tell me, sir, how deem you discipline
And military law have been observ'd
In your return; for have you yet to learn
The punishment awaiting such contempt
Of trust and duty.

Hor.
He who but performs
Duty at peril of omission, merits
Small honourable trust. The punishment
Due to the practice of humanity
Is without shame, and therefore harmless.
But as no mortal edict is beyond
The reach of some exception, then, methinks
The strictest law of discipline may warp
To save a brave man's life.

Wil.
If I might speak,
I'd say that naught could justify your act
But the most unexceptionable proof,
(Which, certes, you, a hearsay witness, have not)
Of what you come, regardless of all duty,
So roundly to assert.

Wab.
I beg your pardon;
We came expressly to give testimony—

Wil.
(Aside to him.)
Silence!

Mrs. W.
Nay, heed him not: speak on.

Wab.
I will.
A gift of noble eloquence is on me.
My lord, Prince Rupert, humble as I am,
I raise my voice, as every manly man
Should do in such a case. I say, my lord,
I raise my voice—

Wil.
(Sternly.)
Silence!

Mrs. W.
But we know
That Colonel Wyndebanke was true and honest.
Now, gentlemen, pray hear my husband tell
What pass'd at Blechington.

Wab.
Yes, hear me, do;
And to begin, I wish for—

Wil.
Silence!

Wab.
Yes;
And mind you keep it. You appear unwilling
That aught in favour of the Colonel's honour
Should have a hearing, but once more I say
My voice is rais'd—

Prince R.
(Loudly.)
Silence!

Wab.
(To Mrs. W.,)
Ah, 'tis useless!
That noisy “Silence!” won't admit a sound
Except its own.

Hor.
Now in few words, my lord,
I here beseech you, as you have the sense
Of mercy, justice, pity, be not rash
In execution of the recent sentence
Upon the much wrong'd Colonel.

Prince R.
Sir, indeed!
I, doubtless, should be grateful for your counsel.
Now, “in few words,” learn my determination.
The hour appointed for the traitor's death
Is eight i' the morning. Mark me, for one hour
I will defer it, but he dies at nine.
Till then, you, Captain Horner will be free—
For there's a charge 'gainst you—go forth!
Wilton, remove the Colonel to the cell
Nearest the barrack green. Provide a chaplain,
And let no other have access to him.

Wil.
Already have I ordered it; at present
His wife is with him.

Prince R.
Give them one half hour
For worldly parting. (To Horner.)
Sir, you understand;
If, before nine, you bring this Fenwicke to me,
You save the Colonel.

Hor.
But—

Prince R.
I'm resolute!
Place him alive before me; let me have
His own confession, and your friend is free;
No other thing can save him.

[Exit R. H.
Wil.
(Following, and aside.)
Soh! 'tis well!
That thing shall never be!

[Exit R. H.
Hor.
And but four hours!
Oh, harsh decree!

Wab.
Harsh! 'tis much more than harsh; 'tis barbarous, cruel!
I feel my blood rise at it. Here I stand,
And care not who o'erhears me; here I stand,
Firm and unflinching—

Mrs. W.
See, you're observ'd—an officer approaches!

Wab.
We'd better go!

[Exit L. H.
Hor.
The hope is but forlorn,
But still I'll mount and seek him. Miracles
Ere now has heaven worked for innocence,

Mrs. W.
Oh, do your best!

Wabble re-enters hastily, L. H.
Wab.
What's that? “Oh, do your best!”
Come, I meant not to leave you here together.
Why did you not, good madam, follow me?

Hor.
What, quit with such an air of cowardice?

Wab.
You've said it! Now I have a fair excuse
For wreaking on you all my vengeance! Now
My wrath breaks forth. [Turns to Mrs. W. Horner goes off, R. H. unperceived.]
You think I'm a lamb,
Nerveless and unresolved. But mark this hand;
It trembles not, although it's doomed to do
A deed of blood!

Mrs. W.
Pooh, pooh!

Wab.
Pooh, pooh, indeed!
Dost treat me with pooh, poohs? And you, fair sir—
[Turns to address Horner, who is gone.]
He's gone! Now who's the coward? [Loud.]
Who, I say?

Wilton enters, R. H.
Wil.
Ho, sirrah! if you thus disturb the quiet,
I'll place you in confinement.
[Wabble utters not a word, but beckons his wife, and sneaks out, L. H.
There is some truth, then, in't! I heard the tale
Which Edith told her husband. If her brother
Has ta'en the step she says, 'tis possible
A pardon may result. Then I must stay
The arrival of it; aye, at any hazard;
I'll take that fellow, Rip, and on the road—
Oh, here's the loving and unhappy pair;
They must be parted.
Enter Colonel Wyndebanke, guarded, with Edith, L. H. [Intercepting.]
Stay!

Wyn.
Is't you again?
Why will you fret me with your loathsome presence?

Wil.
May I not do my duty, please you?

Wyn.
What,
What is your duty? Do it, and then leave me
To be conducted anywhere you will,
So you avoid me. Do your duty, sirrah!

Wil.
My duty is to tell you, that a chaplain
Awaits you in your chamber.

Wyn.
Well?

Wil.
And he
Must be your sole companion.

Edith.
Hold! no, no!
I, Wilton—I, at least, may stay with him.

Wil.
My duty's done; my message is deliver'd,
So let your farewell word and kiss be brief.
(To Guards)
You know your duty—no delay. (To Wyn.)
Farewell.
Now at your hest, sir, I retire—more
My presence shall not blight. [Crosses L. H.]
I prophecy
You look your last on me.

[Exit L. H.
Wyn.
Remorseless fiend!
[To Edith.]
Then we must part?

Edith.
But soon to meet again,
And you in freedom.

Wyn.
[To Guards, who are advancing.]
Friends—a little grace.
[They retire
The time speeds on. Come, Edith, let us speak
Of what (should I be taken from thee, dearest,)
May best advance thy welfare.

Edith.
[Listening.]
Hark—hark, Edward,
Do you not hear a distant shout—it is—
It is the pardon—yes, my brother has it!
Hush [Disappointedly]
No, 'tis silent now; but he will come—
I tell you he will come; I'm certain, Edward.
Then why distress me with such false forebodings?

Wyn.
Look how you tell-tale cranny shews the secret
Of morn's progression. If the pardon comes
'Tis well I live to prove th' injustice done me:
But should it not (nay, be not so dismay'd,
It may—the hours are not so dwindled yet—it may!
But should it not—for there is proper wisdom
In preparation for extremity—
In happier, more peaceful times, when men
(Now party-blinded) shall dispassionate,
Look back upon the troubled scenes now acting,
Then publish thou this statement to the world:
[Taking paper from his breast.
It is a vindication of my honour;
For you must not allow your husband, Edith—
Your poor, wrong'd husband (though one of a week,)
To moulder in his grave, unepitaph'd,
Save with a coward's stigma. You, my wife,
Will find a staunch protector in my father
Who, even though my claim should not ensure
A place for thee within his pitying breast—
Thy own just merits will; and though I leave you
Still in your memory, I think—yes, yes,
I know I shall live long—

Edith.
Oh, Edward, Edward!
For mercy's sake, forbear I if you talk thus
You'll kill me! [Sobbing.]


Guard.
[Advancing.]
Colonel, pray forgive me—
We dare not longer wait.

Wyn.
I will attend you;
Edith, one kiss—farewell—be comforted!

Edith.
Oh, we shall meet again.

Wyn.
I doubt it not;
Here or hereafter.

Edith.
Here, I know we shall,
Or Edward I have murdered you—oh, Edward!
(Colonel Wyndebanke kisses her—places her in the arms of an Attendant, who removes her, and exit with Guards 2 E. R. H.)