 | The Bride |  |
SCENE I.
The private chamber of Rasinga, who is discovered walking backwards and forwards in great agitation.Ras.
That I—that I alone must be restrain'd!
The very meanest chief who holds a mansion
May therein take his pleasure with a second,
When that his earlier wife begins to fade,
Or that his wearied heart longs for another.
Ay, this may be; but I am deem'd a slave,
A tamed—a woman bound—a simple fool.
[After a pause.
Nor did I seek for it; fate was my tempter.
That face of beauty was by fate unveil'd;
And I must needs forbear to look upon it,
Or looking, must forbear to love.—Bold traitor!
That he should also, in that very moment,
Catch the bright glimpse and dare to be my rival!
Fy, fy! His jealous sister set him on.
Why is my mind so rack'd and rent with this?
Jealous, rebellious, spiteful, as she is,
I need not, will not look upon her punishment.
Beneath the wat'ry gleam one moment's struggle,—
No more but this.
[Tossing his arms in agony.
Oh, oh! there was a time,
A time but shortly passed, when such a thought
Had been—the cords of life had snapt asunder
At such a thought.—And it must come to this!
[After another perturbed pause.
It needs must be: I'm driven to the brink.
What is a woman's life, or any life
That poisons his repose for whom it flourish'd?
I would have cherish'd, honour'd her, yet she,
Rejecting all, has e'en to this extremity—
No, no! it is that hateful fiend her brother,
Who for his damn'd desires and my dishonour
Hath urged her on.—The blood from his shorn trunk
Shall to mine eyes be as the gushing fount
To the parch'd pilgrim—Blood! but that his rank
Forbids such execution, his marr'd carcass,
A trampled mass—a spectacle of horror,
Should—the detested traitor!
[Noise at the door.
Who is there?
Juan (without).
Juan de Creda: pray undo thy door.
Ras.
No, not to thee; not e'en to thee, De Creda.
Juan (without).
Nay, but thou must, or fail in honest truth.
I have thy promise once again to see me
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Yea, and I hold thee to it.
Ras.
Turn from my door, for thou since then hast seen me,
And hast no further claim.
Juan
(without).
Tamper not so unfairly with thy words:
I saw thee as the forest peasant sees
A hunted tiger passing to his lair.
Is this sufficient to acquit thee? No;
I claim thy promise still, as unredeem'd.
Unbar thy chamber door and let me in.
Ras.
(opening the door, and as Juan enters).
Come in, come in then, if it must be so.
Is misery a pleasant sight to thee,
That thou dost beg and pray to look upon it?
Juan.
Forgive me, brave Rasinga, if I say,
The mis'ry of thine alter'd face, to me
Is sight more welcome than a brow composed.
But 'tis again to change that haggard face
To the composure of a peaceful mind,
That I am come.—O deign to listen to me!
Let me beseech thee not to wreck thy happiness
For fell revenge!
Ras.
Well, well; and were it so,
I wreck my happiness to save my honour.
Juan.
To save thine honour?
Ras.
Yes; the meanest salve
That turns the stubborn soil with dropping brow,
Would hold an outraged, unrevenged chief,
As more contemptible than torpid reptile
That cannot sting the foot which treads upon it.
Juan.
When fear or sordid motives are imputed
As causes why revenge hath been forborne,
Contempt will follow, from the natural feelings
Of every breast, or savage or instructed.
But when the valiant and the gen'rous pardon,
E'en instantly as lightning rends the trunk
Of the strong Nahagaha pride of the wood,
A kindred glow of admiration passes
Through every manly bosom, proving surely,
That men are brethren, children of one sire,
The Lord of heaven and earth.
Ras.
Perplex me not with vain and lofty words,
That to the stunn'd ear of an injured man
Are like the fitful sounds of a swoln torrent,
Noble, but void of all distinctive meaning.
Juan.
Their meaning is distinct as well as noble,
Teaching to froward man the will of God.
Ras.
And who taught thee to know this will of God?
Juan.
Our sacred Scripture.
Ras.
What? your Christian Scripture,
Which, as I have been told, hath bred more discord
Than all the other firebrands of the earth,
With church opposed to church, and sect to sect,
In fierce contention; ay, fell bloody strife.
Certes, if all from the same book be taught,
Its words may give, as I before have said,
A noble sound, but no distinctive meaning.
Juan.
That which thou hast been told of shameful discord,
Perversely drawn from the pure source of peace,
Is true; and yet it is a book of wisdom,
Whose clear, important, general truths may guide
The simplest and the wisest: truths which still
Have been by every church and sect acknowledged.
Ras.
And what, I pray, are these acknowledged precepts,
Which they but learn, it seems, to disobey?
Juan.
The love of God and of that blessed Being,
Sent in His love to teach His will to men,
Imploring them their hearts to purify
From hatred, wrong, and ev'ry sensual excess,
That in a happier world, when this is past,
They may enjoy true blessedness for ever.
Ras.
Then why hold all this coil concerning that
Which is so plain, and excellent, and acknowledged?
Juan.
Because they have in busy restless zeal
Raised to importance slight and trivial parts;
Contending for them, till they have at last
Believed them of more moment, e'en than all
The plain and lib'ral tenor of the whole.
As if we should maintain a wart or mole
To be the main distinctions of a man,
Rather than the fair brow and upright form,—
The graceful, general lineaments of nature.
Ras.
This is indeed most strange: how hath it been?
Juan.
The Scripture lay before them like the sky,
With all its glorious stars, in some smooth pool
Clearly reflected, till in busy idleness,
Like children gath'ring pebbles on its brink,
Each needs must cast his mite of learning in
To try its depth, till sky, and stars, and glory,
Become one wrinkled maze of wild confusion.
But that good Scripture and its blessed Author
Stand far apart from such perplex'd contention,
As the bright sky from the distorted surface
Of broken waters wherein it was imaged.
Ras.
And this good Scripture does, as thou believest,
Contain the will of God.
Juan.
I do believe it.
And therein is a noble duty taught,
To pardon injuries,—to pardon enemies.
Ras.
I do not doubt it. 'Tis an easy matter
For holy sage or prophet in his cell,
Who lives aloof from wrongs and injuries
Which other men endure, to teach such precepts.
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Most justly urged: but He who utter'd this
Did not enforce it at a rate so easy.
Though proved by many good and marv'llous acts
To be the mission'd Son of the Most High,
He meekly bore the wrongs of wicked men;
And in the agonies of crucifixion,—
The cruel death He died,—did from His cross
Look up to heav'n in earnest supplication
E'en for the men who were inflicting on Him
Those shameful suff'rings,—pardon e'en for them.
Ras.
(bowing his head, and covering his face with his hands).
Indeed, indeed, this was a noble Being.
Juan.
Ay, brave Rasinga; ireful as thou art,
Thou hast a heart to own such excellence.
[Laying his hand soothingly on Rasinga's.
And do consider too how he who wrong'd thee,—
The youthful Samarkoon—
Ras.
(shaking off his hand impatiently).
Name not the villain!
Juan.
That epithet belongs not to a youth,
Who in the fever'd madness of strong passion,
By beauty kindled. goaded by despair,
Perhaps with sympathy, for that he deem'd
A sister's sorrows—
Ras.
Hold thy peace, De Creda;
Thy words exasperate and stir within me
The half-spent flames of wrath.
He is a villain, an audacious villain;
A most ungrateful, cunning, artful villain.
Leave me, I charge thee, lest thou utter that
Which might provoke me to unseemly outrage.
Lowe my life to thee, and but for that—
Leave me, I charge thee.
Juan.
I do not fear what thou mayst do to me.
Ras.
No; but I fear it: therefore quit me instantly.
Out, out!
[Opening the door and pushing him away.
Ho! Ehleypoolie! ye who wait without,
I want your presence here.
[Exit Juan
Enter Ehleypoolie and Mihdoony.
Ehley.
(after having waited some time to receive the commands of his master, who, without noticing him, walks about the chamber in violent agitation).
My lord, we humbly wait for your commands. (Aside to Mihdoony.)
He heeds us not: as though we were not here. (Aloud.)
We humbly wait, my lord, to know your pleasure.
Ras.
My pleasure is—
[Stopping, and looking bewildered.
I know not what it is.
Mih.
Perhaps, my lord, you wish to countermand
Some orders that regard the executions
Fix'd for to-morrow, at an hour so early.
Ras.
When did Rasinga countermand his orders,
So call'd for, and so given?—Why wait ye here!
Ehley.
You summon'd us, my lord; and well you know
That Ehleypoolie hath a ready aptness
For—
Ras.
Boasting, fooling, flattery, and lies.
Begone, I say; I did not summon you.
At least I meant it not.
[Turns away hastily, and exit by another door.
Ehley.
For boasting, fooling, flattery, and lies!
How angry men pervert all sober judgment!
If I commend myself, who, like myself,
Can know so well my actual claims to praise?
Mih.
Most true; for surely no one else doth know it.
Ehley.
And fooling is an angry name for wit.
Mih.
Thy wit is fooling; therefore should it seem,
Thy fooling may be wit. Then for thy flattery,
What dost thou say to that?
Ehley.
Had he disliked it,
It had been dealt to him in scantier measure.
And lies—to hear a prince whose fitful humours
Can mar or make the vassals who surround him,
Name this as special charge on any one!
His violent passions have reduced his judgment
To very childishness.
Mih.
But dost thou think the fierceness of his wrath
Will make him really bring to execution
A wife who has so long and dearly loved him?
Ehley.
How should I know what he will really do?
The words he spoke to me e'en now may show thee
His judgment is obscured. But if he do;
Where is the harm when faded wives are cross
And will not live in quietness with a younger,
To help them on a step to their Newané?
She never favour'd me, that dame Artina,
And I foresaw she would not come to good.
[Exeunt.
| The Bride | |