MARMADUKE Now, whither are you
wandering?
Wordsworth - 1
if you had bid
Eternal farewell to unmingled joy
And the light dancing of the thoughtless heart;
It is the toy of fools, and little fit
For such a world as this. The wise abjure
All thoughts whose idle composition lives
In the entire forgetfulness of pain.
--I see I have disturbed you.
MARMADUKE By no means.
OSWALD Compassion! --pity! --pride can do without them;
And what if you should never know them more! --
He is a puny soul who, feeling pain,
Finds ease because another feels it too.
If e'er I open out this heart of mine
It shall be for a nobler end--to teach
And not to purchase puling sympathy.
--Nay, you are pale.
MARMADUKE
It may be so.
OSWALD Remorse--
It cannot live with thought; think on, think on,
And it will die. What! in this universe,
Where the least things control the greatest, where
The faintest breath that breathes can move a world;
What! feel remorse, where, if a cat had sneezed,
A leaf had fallen, the thing had never been
Whose very shadow gnaws us to the vitals.
MARMADUKE Now, whither are you wandering? That a man
So used to suit his language to the time,
Should thus so widely differ from himself--
It is most strange.
OSWALD Murder! --what's in the word! --
I have no cases by me ready made
To fit all deeds. Carry him to the Camp! --
A shallow project;--you of late have seen
More deeply, taught us that the institutes
Of Nature, by a cunning usurpation
Banished from human intercourse, exist
Only in our relations to the brutes
That make the fields their dwelling. If a snake
Crawl from beneath our feet we do not ask
A license to destroy him: our good governors
Hedge in the life of every pest and plague
That bears the shape of man; and for what purpose,
But to protect themselves from extirpation? --
This flimsy barrier you have overleaped.
MARMADUKE My Office is fulfilled--the Man is now
Delivered to the Judge of all things.
OSWALD
Dead!
MARMADUKE I have borne my burthen to its destined end.
OSWALD This instant we'll return to our Companions--
Oh how I long to see their faces again!
[Enter IDONEA with Pilgrims who continue their journey. ]
IDONEA (after some time)
What, Marmaduke! now thou art mine for ever.
Eternal farewell to unmingled joy
And the light dancing of the thoughtless heart;
It is the toy of fools, and little fit
For such a world as this. The wise abjure
All thoughts whose idle composition lives
In the entire forgetfulness of pain.
--I see I have disturbed you.
MARMADUKE By no means.
OSWALD Compassion! --pity! --pride can do without them;
And what if you should never know them more! --
He is a puny soul who, feeling pain,
Finds ease because another feels it too.
If e'er I open out this heart of mine
It shall be for a nobler end--to teach
And not to purchase puling sympathy.
--Nay, you are pale.
MARMADUKE
It may be so.
OSWALD Remorse--
It cannot live with thought; think on, think on,
And it will die. What! in this universe,
Where the least things control the greatest, where
The faintest breath that breathes can move a world;
What! feel remorse, where, if a cat had sneezed,
A leaf had fallen, the thing had never been
Whose very shadow gnaws us to the vitals.
MARMADUKE Now, whither are you wandering? That a man
So used to suit his language to the time,
Should thus so widely differ from himself--
It is most strange.
OSWALD Murder! --what's in the word! --
I have no cases by me ready made
To fit all deeds. Carry him to the Camp! --
A shallow project;--you of late have seen
More deeply, taught us that the institutes
Of Nature, by a cunning usurpation
Banished from human intercourse, exist
Only in our relations to the brutes
That make the fields their dwelling. If a snake
Crawl from beneath our feet we do not ask
A license to destroy him: our good governors
Hedge in the life of every pest and plague
That bears the shape of man; and for what purpose,
But to protect themselves from extirpation? --
This flimsy barrier you have overleaped.
MARMADUKE My Office is fulfilled--the Man is now
Delivered to the Judge of all things.
OSWALD
Dead!
MARMADUKE I have borne my burthen to its destined end.
OSWALD This instant we'll return to our Companions--
Oh how I long to see their faces again!
[Enter IDONEA with Pilgrims who continue their journey. ]
IDONEA (after some time)
What, Marmaduke! now thou art mine for ever.
