University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

Scene 1.

St. Kinian's Cliff, a wild and precipitous headland. In front the ground is broken with crags, here and there interspersed with stunted brushwood. The scene to be so contrived as to give some notion of the height of the cliff. Time, a little before sunset.
Alton and Vyvyan seated.
Alton.
And I believed them when they said “He died
In the far seas.” Ten years of desolate sorrow
Passed as one night—Now thy warm hand awakes me.

Vyv.
Dear friend, the sun sets fast.

Alton.
Alas! then listen.
There was a page, fair, gentle, brave, but low-born—
And in those years when, to young eyes, the world,
With all the rough disparities of fortune,
Floats level thro' the morning haze of fancy,
He loved the heiress of a lordly house:
She, scarce from childhood, listening, loved again,
And secret nuptials hallowed stolen meetings—
'Till one—I know not whom (perchance a kinsman,
Heir to that house—if childless died its daughter)
Spied—tracked the bridegroom to the bridal bower,
Aroused the sire, and said, “Thy child's dishonoured!”
Snatching his sword, the father sought the chamber;
Burst the closed portal—but his lifted hand
Escaped the crime. Cold as a fallen statue,
Cast from its blessed pedestal for ever,
The bride lay senseless on the lonely floor
By the oped casement, from whose terrible height
The generous boy, to save her life or honour,
Had plunged into his own sure death below.

Vyv.
A happy death, if it saved her he loved!

Alton.
A midnight grave concealed the mangled clay,
And buried the bride's secret. Few nights after,
Darkly as life from him had passed away,
Life dawned on thee—and, from the unconscious mother,
Stern hands conveyed the pledge of fatal nuptials
To the poor priest, who to thy loftier kindred
Owed the mean roof that sheltered thee.

Vyv.
Oh say
I have a mother still!

Alton.
Yes, she survived—
Her vows, thy birth, by the blind world unguessed;
And, after years of woe and vain resistance,
Forced to a lordlier husband's arms.

Vyv.
My soul
Ofttimes recalls a shadowy Mournfulness,
With woman's patient brow, and saddest tears
Dropped fast from woman's eyes;—they were my mother's.

Alton.
In stealth a wife—in stealth a mother! yes,
Then did she love thee, then aspired to own
In coming times, and bade me hoard these proofs
For that blest day. But, ah! with the new ties
Came new affections—to the second nuptials
A second son was born; she loved him better,
Better than thee—than her own soul!

Vyv.
Poor mother!

Alton.
And haughtier thoughts on riper life arose,
And worldly greatness feared the world's dread shame,
And she forsook her visits to thy pillow,
And the sire threatened, and the kinsman prayed,
Till, over-urged by terror for thy safety,
I took reluctant vows to mask the truth
And hush thy rights while lived thy mother's sire,
And he, her second unsuspecting lord.
Thus thy youth, nameless, left my lonely roof.
The sire and husband died while thou wert absent.
Thou liv'st—thou hast returned; mine oath is freed;
These scrolls attest my tale and prove thy birthright—
Hail, Lord of Beaufort—Heir of Montreville!

Vyv.
'Tis she—'tis she! At the first glance I loved her,
And when I told my woes, she wept—she wept!
This is her writing. Look—look where she calls me
“Edmond and child.” Old man, how thou hast wronged her.
Joy—joy! I fly to claim and find a Mother!
[Exit Vyvyan.

Alton.
Just Power, propitiate Nature to that cry.
And, from the hardened rock, let living streams
Gush as in Horeb! Ah, how faintly flags,
Strained by unwonted action, weary age!
I'll seek the neighbouring hamlet—rest and pray.
[Exit Alton.

Scene 2.

The exterior of the castle, as in Sc. 2nd, Act II. Sunset. The twilight creeps on during the scene.
Enter Sir Grey and Wrecklyffe.
Sir G.
The priest had left his home?

Wreck.
The hour I reached it.

Sir G.
With but one man? Didst thou not hound the foot-track?

Wreck.
I did.

Sir G.
Thou didst—and yet the prey escaped!
I have done. I gave thee thy soul's wish, revenge,
Revenge on Vyvyan—and thou leav'st his way
Clear to a height as high from thy revenge
As is yon watch-tower from a pirate's gibbet.

Wreck.
Silence! thou—

Sir G.
(haughtily.)
Sir!

Wreck.
(subdued and cowed.)
Along the moors I track'd them,
But only came in sight and reach of spring
Just as they gained the broad and thronging road,
Aloud with eager strides, and clamorous voices—
A surge of tumult, wave to wave rebooming
How all the might of Parma and of Spain
Hurried its thunders on.

Sir G.
Dolt, what to us
Parma and Spain? The beggar has no country!

Wreck.
But deeds like that which thou dost urge me to
Are not risked madly in the populous day.
I come to thy sharp wit for safer orders.

Sir G.
My wit is dulled by time, and must be ground
Into an edge by thought. Hist!—the door jars,
She comes. Skulk yonder—hide thee—but in call!
A moment sometimes makes or marreth fortune,
Just as the fiend Occasion springs to hand—
Be thou that fiend!

[Wrecklyffe passes among the trees, and exit.
Enter Lady Montreville from the cloister.
Lady M.
Look on me! What, nor tremble?
Couldst thou have deemed my father's gold a bribe
For my son's murder? Sold to pirates! Cast
On the wild seas!

Sir G.
How! I knew nought of this.
If such the truth, peace to thy father's sins,
For of those sins is this. Let the past sleep,
Meet present ills—the priest hath left his home
With Vyvyan's comrade, and our scheme is foiled.

Lady M.
I will, myself, see Alton on the morrow—
Edmond can scarce forestall me; for this night
Fear sails with him to the far Indian main.

Sir G.
Let me do homage to thy genius. Sorceress,
What was thy magic?

Lady M.
Terror for my Clarence,
And Edmond's love for Eveline.

Sir G.
(aside.)
I see!
Bribed by the prize of which she robs his rival!—
This night—so soon?—this night—

Lady M.
I save my Clarence!
Till then, keep close, close to his side. Thou hast soothed him?

Sir G.
Fear not—these sudden tidings of the foe
With larger fires have paled receding love—
But where is Vyvyan?

Lady M.
Doubtless with his crew,
Preparing for departure.

Lord B.
(without.)
This way, Marsden.

Enter Lord Beaufort, with Marsden and armed Attendants.
Lord B.
Repair yon broken parapets at dawn;
Yonder the culverins;—delve down more sharply
That bank;—clear out the moat. Those trees—eh, Marsden,—
Should fall? They'd serve to screen the foe! Ah, mother,
Make me a scarf to wear above the armour
In which thy father, 'mid the shouts of kings,
Shivered French lances at the Cloth of Gold.

Mars.
Nay, my young lord, too vast for you that armour.

Lord B.
No; you forget that the breast swells in danger,
And honour adds a cubit to the stature.

Lady M.
Embrace me, Clarence, I myself will arm thee.
Look at him, Marsden—yet they say I spoil him!

Sir G.
(who has been leaning over the low parapet, advances, draws aside Lady Montreville and whispers.)
I mark i' the distance, swift disordered strides,
And the light bound of an impatient spirit;
Vyvyan speeds hither, and the speed seems joy.
He sought his crew—Alton might there await him.

Lady M.
His speed is to a bride.

Sir G.
Ay, true—old age
Forgets that Love's as eager as Ambition;
Yet hold thyself prepared.

Lady M.
(to herself.)
And if it were so!
Come, I will sound the depths of Beaufort's heart;
And, as that answers, hush or yield to conscience.
Lead off these men.
[Exeunt Sir Grey and Attendants.
(To Marsden.)
Go, meet my this day's guest,
And see he enter through the garden postern.
[Exit Marsden.
Clarence, come back.

Lord B.
(peevishly.)
What now?

Lady M.
Speak kindly, Clarence.
Alas, thou'lt know not till the grave close o'er me,
How I did need thy kindness!

Lord B.
Pardon, mother,
My blunt speech now, and froward heat this morning.

Lady M.
Be all such follies of the past, as leaves
Shed from the petals of the bursting flower.
Think thy soul slept, till honour's sudden dawn
Flashed, and the soil bloomed with one hero more!
Ah, Clarence, had I, too, an elder-born,
As had thy father by his former nuptials!—
Could thy sword carve out fortune?

Lord B.
Ay, my mother!

Lady M.
Well the bold answer rushes from thy lips!
Yet, tell me frankly, dost thou not, in truth,
Prize over much the outward show of things;
And couldst thou—rich with valour, health and beauty,
And hope—the priceless treasure of the young—
Couldst thou endure descent from that vain height
Where pride builds towers the heart inhabits not;
To live less gorgeously, and curb thy wants
Within the state, not of the heir to earls,
But of a simple gentleman?

Lord B.
If reared to it,
Perchance contented so; but now—no, never!
Such as I am, thy lofty self hath made me;
Ambitious, haughty, prodigal; and pomp
A part of my very life. If I could fall
From my high state, it were as Romans fell,
On their swords' point! Why is your cheek so hueless?
Why daunt yourself with airiest fantasies?
Who can deprive me of mine heritage—
The titles borne at Palestine and Crecy?
The seignory, ancient as the throne it guards,
That will be mine in trust for sons unborn,
When time—from this day may the date be far!—
Transfers the circlet on thy stately brows
(Forgive the boast!) to no unworthy heir.

Lady M.
(aside.)
My proud soul speaks in his, and stills remorse;
I'll know no other son! Now go, Lord Beaufort.

Lord B.
So formal—fie!—has Clarence then offended?

Lady M.
Offended?—thou! Resume thy noble duties,
Sole heir of Montreville!
[Exit Lord Beaufort.
My choice is made.
As one who holds a fortress for his king,
I guard this heart for Clarence, and I close
Its gates against the stranger. Let him come.

[Exit.
Enter Vyvyan and Eveline. Twilight, but still clear; a few stars come out gradually.
Evel.
I would not bid thee stay, thy country calls thee—
But thou hast stunned my heart i' the midst of joy
With this dread sudden word—part—part!

Vyv.
Live not
In the brief present. Go forth to the future!
Wouldst thou not see me worthier of thy love?

Evel.
Thou canst not be so.

Vyv.
Sweet one, I am now
Obscure and nameless. What, if at thy feet
I could lay rank and fortune?

Evel.
These could give
To me no bliss save as they blest thyself.
Into the life of him she loves, the life
Of woman flows, and nevermore reflects
Sunshine or shadow on a separate wave.
Be his lot great, for his sake she loves greatness;
Humble—a cot with him is Arcady!
Thou art ambitious; thou wouldst arm for fame,
Fame then fires me too, and without a tear,
I bid thee go where fame is won—as now:
Win it and I rejoice; but fail to win,
Were it not joy to think I could console?

Vyv.
O that I could give vent to this full heart!
Time rushes on, each glimmering star rebukes me—
Is that the Countess yonder? This way—come.

[Retire up the stage.
Enter Lord Beaufort and Sir Grey.
Lord B.
Leave England, say'st thou—and with her?

Sir G.
Thou hast wrung
The secret from me. Mark—I have thy promise
Not to betray me to thy mother.

Lord B.
Ah!
Thought she to dupe me with that pomp of words,
And blind ambition while she beggar'd life?
No, by yon heavens, she shall not so befool me!

Sir G.
Be patient. Had I guessed how this had galled,
I had been dumb.

Lord B.
Stand from the light! Distraction!
She hangs upon his breast!

[Hurries to Vyvyan, and then uncovering with an attempt at courtesy, draws him to the front of the stage.
[Wrecklyffe, who, at the first entrance of Vyvyan, has looked forth and glided after him, as if not to lose sight of his revenge, now creeps through the foliage, within hearing.
Lord B.
Sir, one word with you.
This day such looks and converse passed between us
As men who wear these vouchers for esteem,
Cancel with deeds.

Vyv.
(aside.)
The brave boy! How I love him!

Lord B.
What saidst thou, sir?

Evel.
(approaching.)
Oh, Clarence.

Lord B.
Fear not, cousin.
I do but make excuses for my rudeness
At noon, to this fair cavalier.

Sir G.
If so,
Let us not mar such courteous purpose, lady.

Evel.
But—

Sir G.
Nay, you are too timid!

[Draws Eveline away.
Lord B.
Be we brief, sir.
You quit these parts to-night. This place beseems not
The only conference we should hold. I pray you
Name spot and hour in which to meet again,
Unwitnessed save by the broad early moon.

Vyv.
Meet thee again—oh yes!

Lord B.
There speaks a soldier,
And now I own an equal. Hour and place?

Vyv.
Wait here till I have—

Lord B.
No, sir, on thy road.
Here we are spied.

Vyv.
So be it, on my road.
(Aside.)
[There where I learned that heaven had given a brother,
There the embrace.] Within the hour I pass
St. Kinian's Cliff.

Lord B.
Alone?

Vyv.
Alone.

Lord B.
Farewell!

Sir G.
(catching at Lord Beaufort as he goes out.)
I heard St. Kinian's Cliff. I'll warn the Countess.

Lord B.
Do it, and famish!

Sir G.
Well, thy fence is skilful.

Lord B.
And my hand firm.

Sir G.
But when?

Lord B.
Within the hour!
[Exit Lord Beaufort.

Evel.
I do conjure thee on thine honour, Vyvyan,
Hath he not—

Vyv.
What?

Evel.
Forced quarrel on thee?

Vyv.
Quarrel!
That were beyond his power. Upon mine honour,
No, and thrice no!

Evel.
I scarce dare yet believe thee.

Vyv.
Why then, I thus defy thee still to tremble.
Away this weapon (throwing down his sword)
. If I meet thy cousin,
Both must be safe, for one will be unarmed.

Evel.
Mine own frank hero-lover, pardon me;
Yet, need'st thou not—

Vyv.
Oh, as against the Spaniard,
Thee will be swords enow in Vyvyan's war-ship—
But art thou sure his heart is touched so lightly?

Evel.
Jealous, and now!

Vyv.
No, the fair boy, 'tis pity!

Enter Marsden.
Mars.
My lady, sir, invites you to her presence;
Pray you, this way.

Evel.
Remember—O, remember,
One word again, before we part; but one!

Vyv.
One word. Heaven make it joyous.

Evel.
Joyous!

Vyv.
Soft, let me take that echo from thy lips
As a good omen. How my loud heart beats! (aside)
.
Friend, to your lady.

[Exeunt Vyvyan and Marsden within the castle.
Evel.
Gone! The twilight world
Hath its stars still—but mine! Ah, woe is me!
[Exit Eveline.

Sir G.
Why take the challenge, yet cast off the weapon?
Perchance, if, gentle, he forbears the boy;
Perchance, if worldly wise, he fears the noble;
Or hath he, in his absence, chanced with Alton?
It matters not. Like some dark necromancer,
I raise the storm, then rule it thro' the fiend!
Where waits this man without a hope?

Wreck.
(advancing.)
Save vengeance!

Sir G.
Wert thou as near when Beaufort spoke with Vyvyan?

Wreck.
Shall I repeat what Vyvyan said to Beaufort?

Sir G.
Thou know'st—

Wreck.
I know, that to St. Kinian's Cliff
Will come the man whose hand wrote “felon” here.

Sir G.
Mark, what I ask is harder than to strike;
'Tis to forbear—but 'tis revenge with safety.
Let Vyvyan first meet Beaufort; watch what pass,
And if the boy, whose hand obeys all passion,
Should slay thy foeman, and forestall thy vengeance,
Upon thy life (thou know'st, of old, Grey Malpas)
Prevent not, nor assist.

Wreck.
That boy slay Vyvyan!

Sir G.
For Vyvyan is unarmed.

Wreck.
Law calls that—murder!

Sir G.
Which by thy witness, not unbacked by proof,
Would give the murderer to the headsman's axe,
And leave Grey Malpas heir of Montreville,
And thee the richest squire in all his train.

Wreck.
I do conceive the scheme. But if the youth
Fail or relent—

Sir G.
I balk not thy revenge.
And, if the corpse of Beaufort's rival be
Found on the spot where armëd Beaufort met him,
To whom would justice track the death blow?—Beaufort!

Wreck.
No further words. Or his, or mine the hand,
Count one life less on earth; and weave thy scheme—
As doth the worm its coils—around the dead.
[Exit Wrecklyffe.

Sir G.
One death avails as three, since for the mother
Conscience and shame were sharper than the steel.
So, I o'erleap the gulf, nor gaze below.
On this side, desolate ruin; bread begrudged;
And ribald scorn on impotent grey hairs;
The base poor cousin Boyhood threats with famine—
Whose very dog is butchered if it bark:—
On that side bended knees and fawning smiles,
Ho! ho! there—Room for my lord's knights and pages!
Room at the Court—room there, beside the throne!
Ah, the new Earl of Montreville! His lands
Cover two shires. Such men should rule the state—
A gracious lord—the envious call him old;
Not so—the coronet conceals grey hairs.
He limp'd, they say, when he wore hose of serge.
Tut, the slow march becomes the robes of ermine.
Back, Conscience, back! Go scowl on boors and beggars—
Room, smiling flatterers, room for the new Earl!
[Exit Sir Grey.