University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A Wood.
Enter Lu.
Lu.

(Exit.)
Enter Lula and Knight.
Lula.
Where do you lead me, Knight? I may not go
Farther into the glen; have you not heard
How it is haunted?

Knight.
Fear not, gentle Lula;
No spirit may do harm to innocence
And beauty such as thine.—Come, let us stray
Deeper into this dell, and watch the rise
Of the full moon. See how her radiant verge
Streams through the broken cliffs of yon far hill,
Like fragments of a moon. The Queen of Heaven
Smiles from her lattice! Has it not a cast
Of sweet sublimity that scene, my Lula?

Lula.
It has.—O, I could list and look for ever,
And muse upon these goings on of nature!

Knight.
'Tis a fit scene for love.—Will you not hear
The man that loves you to distraction, breathe
His vows of constancy, and endless truth?

Lula.
Nay, then I'm gone; I loathe the very name
Of love, and every baneful consequence
That follows in its train. Why talk to me
Of love, when Emma's lost?—Emma, who loved you
With fondness never equall'd! Tell me, Knight,
Where think you Emma's gone?

Knight.
How can I know?
Woes me! poor Emma! She is fled, I fear,
With false deceiver, or some base-born hind;—
Let us not think of her.

Lula.
Yet you grow pale
At mention of her name—I honour you
For this—'Tis true she loved you!—What is here?
There's blood upon your basnet, Knight!—Your hilt
And arm are stain'd with it.—What blood is this?

Knight.
It is the blood of my white steed, which I
Slew in a rage, and which I sore repent.

Lula.
Your steed is whole, and standing in his stall;
I saw him; ask your groom.

Knight.
It was my hound,
My milk-white hound—Woes me, that she is slain!

Lula.
Your hound is well, and hunting through the wood.

Knight.
It was a deer that held the hound at bay,
'Twas that I meant.

Lula.
You have not slain a deer
For months and days, nor is it hunting time;
You rave! or do not think of that you say.—
But here's our gentle Robin come again,
To cheer us with his homely note.—O, Knight,
Let us return.—Hear what the Robin sings.

Knight.
Come, let us dive into the dell, my Lula,
And see the moon lie bathing in the stream,
Deep in the centre of the wood; it is
A scene will charm you.—Let us go, my love.

Lula.
I never farther leave my home at eve;
That glen is dangerous, for spirits there
Hold nightly rendezvous.—Poor Emma loved
Thoughtful to stray in it;—now, where, alas!
Is simple Emma? Knight, though I nought fear,
Strange fancies crowd on me.—Ah, might it be
As I now deem!—Do guardian spirits ever
Take form of beast or bird?

Knight.
So sages say.
But wherefore ask?—Come, let us go, my love,
Down that sweet winding glen.—You cannot fear
To walk that space with me—I know the scene
Hath that in't will delight you. You shall see
The moonbeam streaming o'er the shadowy hill,
To kiss the winding wave, and deck the trees
In golden foliage—You shall see the shades
Of hills, and trees, and rocks, lie stretch'd afar,
Bathing in liquid crystal, till you lose
Sense which is the true world, the stars, and moon,
And which the elemental imagery.
O! I beseech you, let us go, sweet Lula.

Lula.
Well, I will go; for when I hear you talk
Of nature I am charm'd—'tis so unlike
The converse of these simple cottagers;
But talk of that alone, and not of love,
Else I'll not list, nor answer deign to you.
Why am I plagued with language which I loathe?
(Going, stops short.)
Protect my senses, Heaven!—Can it be?
Look at that bird, Sir Knight—Is it not changed
In form and size since last we look'd at it.

Knight.
What is it?

Lula.
See! it grows and changes still;
Waylays and threatens us—I will not go
Farther upon that path for will of man.

Knight.
Then my resolve is fix'd—Dame, you shall go,
Return home as you may.

Lula.
What do you mean?

Knight.
Only that you shall go into that glen
Far as I list to lead you—if you prove
As coy when you return, my well-earn'd skill
In woman I give up. Nay, struggle not,
Nor pule, nor cry, for neither shall avail.

Enter Lu, who by a wave of his hand lays the Knight flat on his back.
Lula.
O, comely stranger, spare my helpless youth!
Protect and guard me; here I throw myself
Into your arms.

Lu.
And from all brutal force,
And insult, shall these arms protect you, maid.

Lula.
Yes, I can trust you—there is in your look,
And your embrace, that chasten'd dignity,
That calm pure sympathy, which I have long'd
And pined so much to look on—Whence are you?
From what blest land, or kingdom, came you thus
To my deliverance?

Lu.
These lands were mine,
Far as the soaring eagle's eye can reach;
But I resign'd them for a dynasty
Wild and ætherial.—Could you love me, Lula?

Lula.
I know not—If your touch and looks were aye
As pure as they are now—methinks I could.

Lu.
Then I'll be aught for thee—I'll be again
The thing I was, that I may be caress'd
And loved by you; though pain, and woe, and death,
And spirits' vengeance on the issue wait.
Come with me, gentle maid; and, while I lead you
Home to your cot, I will a tale unfold
Shall make your ears to tingle, and your thoughts
Wander into delirious mystery.

(Exeunt Lu and Lula. The Knight rises.)
Knight.