 | The Mermaid |  |
SCENE II.
The Hall in Beneild's Castle.Lady Beneild and her Son.
Lady Ben.
To scorn Beneild and take the soft Glenelg!
It is an insult, boy, to all our clan,
And if thou hast the temper of thy race,
Thou wilt not patiently endure this wrong.
Had I the magic of the old witch Elpa,
There's not a mischief in the earth or air
That should remain uncall'd to do them harm.
Beneild.
And who is Elpa? Often have I heard
Our men, when gather'd round the hearth at night,
With cautious voice and wary look, relate
How she was wont, in former times, to vex
The whole extent and borders of the isle.
Lady Ben.
Now she is old, and seldom stirs abroad.
None ever knew her country or her kin.
When first the playful children saw her come,
They ran to mock her hump'd unshapen form,
But when she fix'd on them her fiery eyes,
Their mirth was marr'd, and, with their hands behind,
Fearing her touch, they silent look'd at her.
Beneild.
Is she indeed so hideous and so grim?
Lady Ben.
She is a haggard and decrepid thing,
479
Her wither'd visage is so sharp and lean
That without eyes it would bespeak her fell;
And yet her quick and sparklike eyes appear
So kindled with malign intelligence,
That all the other features of her face
Are seen no more by those on whom she looks,
Such is their evil darting.—But her eyes
Are far less dreadful than her lean large hands,
So gnarl'd with bone, and shrivell'd without veins,
That they do seem like a dead giant's, dried
In some cadav'ry of that fab'lous land
Where once the Cyclops dwelt. Frequent at eve,
Ere yet the twilight has entirely faded,
With soundless tread she seeks the cotter's door,
And moaning sullenly, puts in her hand,
And holds it till the trembling dame within
Has pil'd it full, or emptied all the store
Kept for the supper of her weary spouse,
Expected from the field. Sometimes, when late
The traveller hastens o'er the lonely moor,
His horse stops suddenly, and startled turns
From something slowly bowling in the road:
'Tis Elpa crippling homeward with her alms.
Beneild.
Where is her home?
Lady Ben.
'Tis said in some hid cave,
Not far beyond the cottage on the shore.—
Once in that cottage liv'd a good old man,
Who with hard labor, care, and pious thoughts,
A son and daughter bred to industry,
Till they were blighted by her treacherous gifts.—
Three days and nights the winds had fiercely blown,
And high above the rocks where Elpa dwells,
The angry waves, in lavish sheets of foam,
Dash'd without intermission. On the fourth
The wind abated, and at set of sun
Nought but the noiseless swell and wreck of barks
Strew'd on the shore, reminded of the storm.
480
In his accustom'd way the Bible took,
And, on a stone before his cottage door,
Began his evening prayer, when he descried
The shrunken Elpa looking o'er the book,
And heard her shrilly say, “Give me to eat.”
He trembling rose, leaving his prayer unsaid,
And granted her request. The following morn,
A rich reward of antique gold was found
Piled on the stone; alas! an unblest gift!
Beneild.
Yet it denoted gratitude in her.
Lady Ben.
Gifts from all such do but entail misfortune.
Her gold brought idleness. The good old man
Fell into foul intemperance; his son
Wander'd away into the Saxon land,
And children that could claim no father's care,
With shame and sorrow broke the daughter's heart.
Beneild.
Would that the witch might some such gift bestow
On scornful Agandel.
Lady Ben.
Where now, Beneild?
Beneild.
To speak with Elpa, and to see her power
In aid of my revenge.
Lady Ben.
What have I said,
That thou wouldst tempt misfortune to thyself
By any traffic with a witch accurst.
Stay, headstrong boy, thy wild intent forego.
[Exit.
| The Mermaid | |