University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—The Outside of a Prison.
Marian before the gate, half-reclining on the ground.
Mari.
Here is my death-bed. Here I'll stretch myself
And die! I feel it! I am sure
I am about to die. I could have borne
The shame of the misdeed that was not mine—
Submitted to it, as the will of Heaven,
Incurring which I had not broke its will—
But that the tie of nature should have snapp'd
Along with that of reverence for Heaven—
That where I found all love—all safeguard, once—
I find all loathing—all desertion now!—
That is too hard to bear! No kind of shame
That ever made the cheek to redden, while
The heart was free, had made me shrink from him—
I would have cleaved to him amid the lightnings
Of blasting looks, and voices, thundering scorns!—
Shared the dark penance of his dungeon with him!
Walk'd with him to the place of execution!
Mounted it, step by step, along with him!
And, all around him lowering, shone upon him
Till his last look, with reverence and love!
They shall not shut me from his prison!—Have
No right! I am his child! They should not heed
His anger 'gainst me which they do not share,
But I must bear alone! How high soe'er
The surf doth run! They shall not keep me out!
Within! within!—Who minds the gate?

Enter Jailer.
Jailer.
What want you?

Mari.
Admittance to my father!

Jailer.
'Tis forbid!

Mari.
Open the door a little.—Do, good sir,
And let me speak with you—give me but a chink,
I'll pass through it! [Aside.]


[Jailer opens the gate, she tries to pass it, but is prevented. They advance struggling.
Jailer.
What mean you? Are you mad?

Mari.
I am! The fury all, without the trance
That makes it bearable! The horror of
The dream, without the sleep! Do you know aught
About the ties of nature? Have you look'd
Upon a living father, mother, brother,
Or sister—or upon a living child
That was your own? I have a living father,
And he's within that prison—and I am here
His living child, and yearn to go to him!
And you say I cannot! Can you say it? Will you?
Do you? You do not! Cannot! Will not! Oh,
Admit me to my father!

Jailer.
What's the use?
He'll only drive thee from him!

Mari.
Let me in,
I'll find the use! Oh! do you think his heart
Could turn to stone, in a moment? Harden so
To the very core, and 'gainst his only child?
Admit me, and you'll see it still is flesh;
All flesh—all beating flesh, and at the core,
Its inmost—tenderest—warmest part—his child!

Jailer.
Poor girl!

Mari.
You pity me!—Oh! show me pity then—
The act it prompts!—without which, spite of all
Its melting looks and tones, its sighs and tears,
'Tis useless as a very beggar, who
Gives all things but the needed thing—relief!
You say “Poor girl!”—and you say true! To be
An orphan!—to be friendless!—shelterless!
To go in rags, and they in tatters! Hang
From morn till morn—from week's end unto week's end,
'Twixt sustenance and starvation!—all of these,
Together, but a little sprinkling make
Of suffering, to the torrent hurl'd on me!
I can't stand under it much longer.—Now!
My reason totters!—reels! Another moment
I'm a lunatic—O save me from the jacket,
The straw—the whip—the chain—open the door!
Admit me to my father!

Jailer.
It is hard
To have no option but the act of duty,
When the heart bleeds, and duty fain must let it.
Poor girl! Though I consort with stone and iron,
My heart partakes not, so, of their condition,
That I can see and hear thee with such eyes
And ears, as walls and bars on misery turn!
Thou must endure—and Heaven support thee under it!
All are denied admittance to his cell,
And thou, I grieve to say it, chief of all!

[Going.
Mari.
[Stopping him.]
Stay! Let me stop at the door of his cell!—at the end
Of the passage that leads to it!—in the court on which
The passage opens!—on the stairs!—anywhere
Within the prison!—so that I may be
Under one roof with him! Let me stop with you
At the gate!

Jailer.
It may not be.

Mari.
Show me the window of
His cell!—Is it that?—or that?—which is it?

Jailer.
Neither.

Mari.
Is it that then?

Jailer.
'Tis not in this quarter of
The prison.

Mari.
Which quarter, then?

Jailer.
I may not tell thee.
Don't stop me, girl! I can't stay longer with thee!
Thou quite unmann'st me!

Mari.
Leave the door ajar—
A moment! Let me look into the prison!
[He shuts the door.
Go!—Thou dost weep indeed!—but 'tis pretence.
Thou art no better than the grating bolt
That at thy will is shot, and holds the door!
I am helpless—hopeless!—Would I were the bolt,
Door—walls—bars—anything but what I am!
And I have put him there;—and if he dies,
I hang him! Who are these that look at me,
As they would strike me dead? I couldn't help it!
My mother train'd me in the fear of God!
I was forced to do it! Just as well might ye blame
A rock to split, when riven by the lightning,
As my lips to part, when in the name of Heaven
The justice bade them ope and speak the truth!
I am innocent!—don't spurn me—I am innocent!

[Retreats to the wall, and supports herself against it.
Enter Norris and Stephen.
Nor.
There!—Up to her!—Accost her!—Tell your news!
What! is it loathing that I feel for her,
Not love? It pleasures me to see her thus!
Except for her I had not done it! That
Is rankling at my heart—sets it in storm!
I'm all for havoc! He should die—but then
It were another murder on my soul!
And I should lose the prize I've paid so much for!

Ste.
Marian!

Mari.
Well, Stephen! What of misery more?
For sure it is your errand, by your looks!
Tell me! You can add nothing to the cup
Already that o'erflows! Is it of Edward?
Is he dead?

Ste.
He is! Drown'd on the coast of France.

Mari.
I hear it—and I do not shed a tear!
Nor feel the want to weep! I welcome it!
'Tis good news! He has left a world of woe
To him—to him—for what is woe to me,
Were woe to him! Would I a heart I love,
As I love his, should feel the blight mine feels?
Would I put adders where I could not bear
To have an insect sting? 'Tis well he's dead!
The friends he leaves, should put on holiday,
Not mourning clothes for him! His passing bell
Should ring a peal, and not a knell! 'Tis best
It is as it is. His welcome home had been
“Heaven help you!”—not “Heaven bless you!”—Well, he's dead!
How was he drown'd?

Ste.
His ship, they say, went down
With all the crew.

Mari.
With all the crew! He lies
In a watery grave! How fresh he look'd the day
He went! What hope was in his eye, whose fire
You would have thought would ne'er go out? He seem'd
In speed to meet good fortune as a friend
Already come in sight!—I see him now
Stepping with gallant air into the boat,
And looking at the sea, as 'twere a thing
Stable as the solid earth!—My sailor lad!
Young, comely, manly, good, and fond of me!
I little thought the look would be my last
Which promised I should see thee soon again.
Thou diest in good time—'Tis years of woes
Saved by a minute's pang! I thought just now
I was past weeping! I did love him!—love him
With all my will!—no portion of my heart
But what was given to him—no portion on't
I ever wish'd were back!

Nor.
Now is my time!
Marian!

Mari.
What! more?—Is there more misery?
There's nothing left but death—I do not count
Death misery!

Nor.
I come to talk to thee
Of life, not death!

Mari.
Where is it?—show it me!
Life is the opposite of death—a thing
To be preferr'd to it!—show me that life!—
For if thou mean'st such life as now I see,
I had rather die than live!

Nor.
I love thee, Marian!

Mari.
Does any one love Marian?

Nor.
I repeat
I love thee, Marian, wilt thou marry me?

Mari.
Marry thee?—Yes; when they put on for me
My wedding clothes—my shroud!—and lay me in
My bridal bed—my grave!—Then I'll be wife
To thee or any one!

Nor.
What wouldst thou do
To save thy father's life?

Mari.
Anything!

Nor.
What
To have it proved that he is innocent?

Mari.
Anything!—pay the felon's penalty
Myself!—Abide the gibbet!—Marry thee
Now!—now!—If now thou couldst heave off for me
That mountain on my heart—my father's plight!
That, heavier on my soul—my father's sin!
This didst thou do—and stood my lover there,
Of whom to say, that, in his grave, he's dearer
Than he was, ever, when in life to me,
Is to say truth—I'd give to thee my hand!

Nor.
I take it!—
What! draw'st thou back?

Mari.
'Tis but to pause a moment!
No!—I'll see nothing but my father!—Think
There's no one else in the world!—I'll see but him
And the plight he lies in!—deeper—lonelier
Than shipman at the bottom of the sea!
Canst thou do this thou sayest?

Nor.
Yes!

Mari.
Thou'lt save
My father's life? Thou'lt prove him innocent?

Nor.
I will!

Mari.
The day thou dost it, I am thine!

Nor.
Give me thy hand upon it!—Draw'st thy hand back
Again!

Mari.
No!—There!—One moment!—Edward!—There!

[Faints in his arms.