University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Inside of a Cottage.
Grimald and Nora, two weird women.
Nora.
Sister, we thrive.

Grim.
We'll mounch belyve;
For the maidens long, and the witlings wive.

Nora.
To every link I have added seven;
I bode of luck ere the hour eleven;
The spirits are come, and the sign's in heaven.

Grim.
We'll thrive!—thrive!
But never to shrive!
Till the dew fall red and Moules arrive.
Sister, sing to that. (They sing wildly.)
We'll thrive, &c.

Nora.
Sister, sister—achieve! achieve!
Steep the weft, and the searcloth weave!
We may thrive and fear, and fear and thrive,
But we'll never be safe while Gemel's alive.

Grim.
I fear him less than he fears me,
For all his jargon and mockery.
I have wrought well for Gemel's cross,
I have earned him sorrow and loss,—
I have earned him trouble and pain.

Nora.
Sister, curse him once again.

Grim.
Hear me—hear me, mighty Moules!
When the bristle-cock sleeps, and the martin prowls,
May all thy fays that rock in the tree,
And all thy elves that hide on the lea,—
That peep o'er the green leaf quaking high,
Or out of the blue-bell wound with the eye,
Prick and pierce him in nerve and spleen,
By the arrows felt, but never seen;
Then by flame unbodied burn him;
Then on racking windlass turn him,
Till his temples quiver and ache anew,
And the cold sweat bell like drops of dew.
Toil him and moil him, again and again!
Sicken his heart, and sear his brain;
Wear him away, and then!—and then!
We'll thrive!—thrive!
But never to shrive!
Till the dew fall red and Moules arrive!
(They sing wildly.)
We'll thrive, &c.

Enter Hutchon.
Hut.
We'll brook your mirth, good women—warble on,
Regard not me.

Nora.
Hutchon, I ween?—How camest thou by our cot?
You are most welcome to our poor abode.

Hut.
I came to ask your counsel—nay, and more,
If you judge meet, to crave your kind assistance.
My lord, whom I esteem, again is seized
With that wild raving ardency of feeling
Which erst assailed him, and which drives him on
Close to the verge of dark insanity.
The cause at this time is a beauteous maid,
Hight Gelon Græme—a most bewitching thing,
Simple as weaned child.—I know full well
Your power, and what effect your bodings have
Among the rath young votaries to love,
Who will be borrowing of futurity
Shadows and counterfeits, which they must pay
In different coinage.

Grim.
Speak thy mission, carl,
And spare thy bald and sickening sophistry.

Hut.
This maiden shuns him, and rejects his suit.
It seems she is betroth'd to that young hind,
Who boasts such numerous flocks and herds, and has
The hearts of all the maidens.—If she wed,
No anodyne will stay Lord Hindlee's mind
From straying into pathless vacancy.

Grim.
What must we do?—name thy request and go.

Hut.
Could'st thou pronounce some high decree of fate,—
Somewhat foretel to discompose the current,
And mar the onward flow of these events,
O it might save a noble mind from ruin,
And thy reward thou only hast to name.
Each word and token that have past between,
I will supply withal, to give thy bodings
Semblance of verity.

Nora.
(Aside.)
Say nought of that
Before our sister—You and I must fit
Things to a natural channel; but with her
All earthly help is scorned—No hint of it,—
Come to the festival at Isabel's.
This night is Hallow-Eve—I will be there.—
Sister, wilt thou?

Grim.