IDONEA I
scarcely
can believe it.
Wordsworth - 1
Exit Host.
]
OSWALD (aside to MARMADUKE)
Perhaps it would be useful
That you too should subscribe your name.
[MARMADUKE overlooks HERBERT--then writes--examines the letter eagerly. ]
MARMADUKE I cannot leave this paper.
[He puts it up, agitated. ]
OSWALD (aside)
Dastard! Come.
[MARMADUKE goes towards HERBERT and supports him--MARMADUKE
tremblingly beckons OSWALD to take his place. ]
MARMADUKE (as he quits HERBERT)
There is a palsy in his limbs--he shakes.
[Exeunt OSWALD and HERBERT--MARMADUKE following. ]
SCENE changes to a Wood--a Group of Pilgrims, and IDONEA with them.
FIRST PILGRIM A grove of darker and more lofty shade
I never saw.
SECOND PILGRIM The music of the birds
Drops deadened from a roof so thick with leaves.
OLD PILGRIM This news! It made my heart leap up with joy.
IDONEA I scarcely can believe it.
OLD PILGRIM Myself, I heard
The Sheriff read, in open Court, a letter
Which purported it was the royal pleasure
The Baron Herbert, who, as was supposed,
Had taken refuge in this neighbourhood,
Should be forthwith restored. The hearing, Lady,
Filled my dim eyes with tears. --When I returned
From Palestine, and brought with me a heart,
Though rich in heavenly, poor in earthly, comfort,
I met your Father, then a wandering Outcast:
He had a Guide, a Shepherd's boy; but grieved
He was that One so young should pass his youth
In such sad service; and he parted with him.
We joined our tales of wretchedness together,
And begged our daily bread from door to door.
I talk familiarly to you, sweet Lady!
For once you loved me.
IDONEA You shall back with me
And see your Friend again. The good old Man
Will be rejoiced to greet you.
OLD PILGRIM It seems but yesterday
That a fierce storm o'ertook us, worn with travel,
In a deep wood remote from any town.
A cave that opened to the road presented
A friendly shelter, and we entered in.
IDONEA And I was with you?
OLD PILGRIM If indeed 'twas you--
But you were then a tottering Little-one--
We sate us down. The sky grew dark and darker:
I struck my flint, and built up a small fire
With rotten boughs and leaves, such as the winds
Of many autumns in the cave had piled.
Meanwhile the storm fell heavy on the woods;
Our little fire sent forth a cheering warmth
And we were comforted, and talked of comfort;
But 'twas an angry night, and o'er our heads
The thunder rolled in peals that would have made
A sleeping man uneasy in his bed.
O Lady, you have need to love your Father.
OSWALD (aside to MARMADUKE)
Perhaps it would be useful
That you too should subscribe your name.
[MARMADUKE overlooks HERBERT--then writes--examines the letter eagerly. ]
MARMADUKE I cannot leave this paper.
[He puts it up, agitated. ]
OSWALD (aside)
Dastard! Come.
[MARMADUKE goes towards HERBERT and supports him--MARMADUKE
tremblingly beckons OSWALD to take his place. ]
MARMADUKE (as he quits HERBERT)
There is a palsy in his limbs--he shakes.
[Exeunt OSWALD and HERBERT--MARMADUKE following. ]
SCENE changes to a Wood--a Group of Pilgrims, and IDONEA with them.
FIRST PILGRIM A grove of darker and more lofty shade
I never saw.
SECOND PILGRIM The music of the birds
Drops deadened from a roof so thick with leaves.
OLD PILGRIM This news! It made my heart leap up with joy.
IDONEA I scarcely can believe it.
OLD PILGRIM Myself, I heard
The Sheriff read, in open Court, a letter
Which purported it was the royal pleasure
The Baron Herbert, who, as was supposed,
Had taken refuge in this neighbourhood,
Should be forthwith restored. The hearing, Lady,
Filled my dim eyes with tears. --When I returned
From Palestine, and brought with me a heart,
Though rich in heavenly, poor in earthly, comfort,
I met your Father, then a wandering Outcast:
He had a Guide, a Shepherd's boy; but grieved
He was that One so young should pass his youth
In such sad service; and he parted with him.
We joined our tales of wretchedness together,
And begged our daily bread from door to door.
I talk familiarly to you, sweet Lady!
For once you loved me.
IDONEA You shall back with me
And see your Friend again. The good old Man
Will be rejoiced to greet you.
OLD PILGRIM It seems but yesterday
That a fierce storm o'ertook us, worn with travel,
In a deep wood remote from any town.
A cave that opened to the road presented
A friendly shelter, and we entered in.
IDONEA And I was with you?
OLD PILGRIM If indeed 'twas you--
But you were then a tottering Little-one--
We sate us down. The sky grew dark and darker:
I struck my flint, and built up a small fire
With rotten boughs and leaves, such as the winds
Of many autumns in the cave had piled.
Meanwhile the storm fell heavy on the woods;
Our little fire sent forth a cheering warmth
And we were comforted, and talked of comfort;
But 'twas an angry night, and o'er our heads
The thunder rolled in peals that would have made
A sleeping man uneasy in his bed.
O Lady, you have need to love your Father.
