MARMADUKE Would it were
possible!
Wordsworth - 1
]
[Enter OSWALD (a bunch of plants in his hand)]
OSWALD This wood is rich in plants and curious simples.
MARMADUKE (looking at them)
The wild rose, and the poppy, and the nightshade:
Which is your favorite, Oswald?
OSWALD That which, while it is
Strong to destroy, is also strong to heal--
[Looking forward. ]
Not yet in sight! --We'll saunter here awhile;
They cannot mount the hill, by us unseen.
MARMADUKE (a letter in his hand)
It is no common thing when one like you
Performs these delicate services, and therefore
I feel myself much bounden to you, Oswald;
'Tis a strange letter this! --You saw her write it?
OSWALD And saw the tears with which she blotted it.
MARMADUKE And nothing less would satisfy him?
OSWALD No less;
For that another in his Child's affection
Should hold a place, as if 'twere robbery,
He seemed to quarrel with the very thought.
Besides, I know not what strange prejudice
Is rooted in his mind; this Band of ours,
Which you've collected for the noblest ends,
Along the confines of the Esk and Tweed
To guard the Innocent--he calls us "Outlaws";
And, for yourself, in plain terms he asserts
This garb was taken up that indolence
Might want no cover, and rapacity
Be better fed.
MARMADUKE Ne'er may I own the heart
That cannot feel for one, helpless as he is.
OSWALD Thou know'st me for a Man not easily moved,
Yet was I grievously provoked to think
Of what I witnessed.
MARMADUKE This day will suffice
To end her wrongs.
OSWALD But if the blind Man's tale
Should _yet_ be true?
MARMADUKE Would it were possible!
Did not the Soldier tell thee that himself,
And others who survived the wreck, beheld
The Baron Herbert perish in the waves
Upon the coast of Cyprus?
OSWALD Yes, even so,
And I had heard the like before: in sooth
The tale of this his quondam Barony
Is cunningly devised; and, on the back
Of his forlorn appearance, could not fail
To make the proud and vain his tributaries,
And stir the pulse of lazy charity.
The seignories of Herbert are in Devon;
We, neighbours of the Esk and Tweed; 'tis much
The Arch-Impostor--
MARMADUKE Treat him gently, Oswald:
Though I have never seen his face, methinks,
There cannot come a day when I shall cease
To love him. I remember, when a Boy
Of scarcely seven years' growth, beneath the Elm
That casts its shade over our village school,
'Twas my delight to sit and hear Idonea
Repeat her Father's terrible adventures,
Till all the band of play-mates wept together;
And that was the beginning of my love.
And, through all converse of our later years,
An image of this old Man still was present,
When I had been most happy. Pardon me
If this be idly spoken.
OSWALD See, they come,
Two Travellers!
MARMADUKE (points) The woman [1] is Idonea.
OSWALD And leading Herbert.
MARMADUKE We must let them pass--
This thicket will conceal us.
[They step aside. ]
[Enter IDONEA, leading HERBERT blind. ]
IDONEA Dear Father, you sigh deeply; ever since
We left the willow shade by the brook-side,
Your natural breathing has been troubled.
HERBERT Nay,
You are too fearful; yet must I confess,
Our march of yesterday had better suited
A firmer step than mine.
IDONEA That dismal Moor--
In spite of all the larks that cheered our path,
I never can forgive it: but how steadily
_You_ paced along, when the bewildering moonlight
Mocked me with many a strange fantastic shape!
[Enter OSWALD (a bunch of plants in his hand)]
OSWALD This wood is rich in plants and curious simples.
MARMADUKE (looking at them)
The wild rose, and the poppy, and the nightshade:
Which is your favorite, Oswald?
OSWALD That which, while it is
Strong to destroy, is also strong to heal--
[Looking forward. ]
Not yet in sight! --We'll saunter here awhile;
They cannot mount the hill, by us unseen.
MARMADUKE (a letter in his hand)
It is no common thing when one like you
Performs these delicate services, and therefore
I feel myself much bounden to you, Oswald;
'Tis a strange letter this! --You saw her write it?
OSWALD And saw the tears with which she blotted it.
MARMADUKE And nothing less would satisfy him?
OSWALD No less;
For that another in his Child's affection
Should hold a place, as if 'twere robbery,
He seemed to quarrel with the very thought.
Besides, I know not what strange prejudice
Is rooted in his mind; this Band of ours,
Which you've collected for the noblest ends,
Along the confines of the Esk and Tweed
To guard the Innocent--he calls us "Outlaws";
And, for yourself, in plain terms he asserts
This garb was taken up that indolence
Might want no cover, and rapacity
Be better fed.
MARMADUKE Ne'er may I own the heart
That cannot feel for one, helpless as he is.
OSWALD Thou know'st me for a Man not easily moved,
Yet was I grievously provoked to think
Of what I witnessed.
MARMADUKE This day will suffice
To end her wrongs.
OSWALD But if the blind Man's tale
Should _yet_ be true?
MARMADUKE Would it were possible!
Did not the Soldier tell thee that himself,
And others who survived the wreck, beheld
The Baron Herbert perish in the waves
Upon the coast of Cyprus?
OSWALD Yes, even so,
And I had heard the like before: in sooth
The tale of this his quondam Barony
Is cunningly devised; and, on the back
Of his forlorn appearance, could not fail
To make the proud and vain his tributaries,
And stir the pulse of lazy charity.
The seignories of Herbert are in Devon;
We, neighbours of the Esk and Tweed; 'tis much
The Arch-Impostor--
MARMADUKE Treat him gently, Oswald:
Though I have never seen his face, methinks,
There cannot come a day when I shall cease
To love him. I remember, when a Boy
Of scarcely seven years' growth, beneath the Elm
That casts its shade over our village school,
'Twas my delight to sit and hear Idonea
Repeat her Father's terrible adventures,
Till all the band of play-mates wept together;
And that was the beginning of my love.
And, through all converse of our later years,
An image of this old Man still was present,
When I had been most happy. Pardon me
If this be idly spoken.
OSWALD See, they come,
Two Travellers!
MARMADUKE (points) The woman [1] is Idonea.
OSWALD And leading Herbert.
MARMADUKE We must let them pass--
This thicket will conceal us.
[They step aside. ]
[Enter IDONEA, leading HERBERT blind. ]
IDONEA Dear Father, you sigh deeply; ever since
We left the willow shade by the brook-side,
Your natural breathing has been troubled.
HERBERT Nay,
You are too fearful; yet must I confess,
Our march of yesterday had better suited
A firmer step than mine.
IDONEA That dismal Moor--
In spite of all the larks that cheered our path,
I never can forgive it: but how steadily
_You_ paced along, when the bewildering moonlight
Mocked me with many a strange fantastic shape!
