IDONEA (to Host)
Farewell!
Farewell!
William Wordsworth
To the Camp
He shall be led, and there, the Country round
All gathered to the spot, in open day
Shall Nature be avenged.
OSWALD 'Tis nobly thought;
His death will be a monument for ages.
MARMADUKE (to LACY)
I thank you for that hint. He shall be brought
Before the Camp, and would that best and wisest
Of every country might be present. There,
His crime shall be proclaimed; and for the rest
It shall be done as Wisdom shall decide:
Meanwhile, do you two hasten back and see
That all is well prepared.
WALLACE We will obey you.
(Aside. ) But softly! we must look a little nearer.
MARMADUKE Tell where you found us. At some future time
I will explain the cause.
[Exeunt. ]
ACT III
SCENE--The door of the Hostel, a group of Pilgrims as before; IDONEA and
the Host among them
HOST Lady, you'll find your Father at the Convent
As I have told you: He left us yesterday
With two Companions; one of them, as seemed,
His most familiar Friend.
(Going. ) There was a letter
Of which I heard them speak, but that I fancy
Has been forgotten.
IDONEA (to Host)
Farewell!
HOST
Gentle pilgrims,
St. Cuthbert speed you on your holy errand.
[Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims. ]
[SCENE--A desolate Moor]
[OSWALD (alone)]
OSWALD Carry him to the Camp! Yes, to the Camp.
Oh, Wisdom! a most wise resolve! and then,
That half a word should blow it to the winds!
This last device must end my work. --Methinks
It were a pleasant pastime to construct
A scale and table of belief--as thus--
Two columns, one for passion, one for proof;
Each rises as the other falls: and first,
Passion a unit and _against_ us--proof--
Nay, we must travel in another path,
Or we're stuck fast for ever;--passion, then,
Shall be a unit _for_ us; proof--no, passion!
We'll not insult thy majesty by time,
Person, and place--the where, the when, the how,
And all particulars that dull brains require
To constitute the spiritless shape of Fact,
They bow to, calling the idol, Demonstration.
A whipping to the Moralists who preach
That misery is a sacred thing: for me,
I know no cheaper engine to degrade a man,
Nor any half so sure. This Stripling's mind
Is shaken till the dregs float on the surface;
And, in the storm and anguish of the heart,
He talks of a transition in his Soul,
And dreams that he is happy. We dissect
The senseless body, and why not the mind? --
These are strange sights--the mind of man, upturned,
Is in all natures a strange spectacle;
In some a hideous one--hem!
He shall be led, and there, the Country round
All gathered to the spot, in open day
Shall Nature be avenged.
OSWALD 'Tis nobly thought;
His death will be a monument for ages.
MARMADUKE (to LACY)
I thank you for that hint. He shall be brought
Before the Camp, and would that best and wisest
Of every country might be present. There,
His crime shall be proclaimed; and for the rest
It shall be done as Wisdom shall decide:
Meanwhile, do you two hasten back and see
That all is well prepared.
WALLACE We will obey you.
(Aside. ) But softly! we must look a little nearer.
MARMADUKE Tell where you found us. At some future time
I will explain the cause.
[Exeunt. ]
ACT III
SCENE--The door of the Hostel, a group of Pilgrims as before; IDONEA and
the Host among them
HOST Lady, you'll find your Father at the Convent
As I have told you: He left us yesterday
With two Companions; one of them, as seemed,
His most familiar Friend.
(Going. ) There was a letter
Of which I heard them speak, but that I fancy
Has been forgotten.
IDONEA (to Host)
Farewell!
HOST
Gentle pilgrims,
St. Cuthbert speed you on your holy errand.
[Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims. ]
[SCENE--A desolate Moor]
[OSWALD (alone)]
OSWALD Carry him to the Camp! Yes, to the Camp.
Oh, Wisdom! a most wise resolve! and then,
That half a word should blow it to the winds!
This last device must end my work. --Methinks
It were a pleasant pastime to construct
A scale and table of belief--as thus--
Two columns, one for passion, one for proof;
Each rises as the other falls: and first,
Passion a unit and _against_ us--proof--
Nay, we must travel in another path,
Or we're stuck fast for ever;--passion, then,
Shall be a unit _for_ us; proof--no, passion!
We'll not insult thy majesty by time,
Person, and place--the where, the when, the how,
And all particulars that dull brains require
To constitute the spiritless shape of Fact,
They bow to, calling the idol, Demonstration.
A whipping to the Moralists who preach
That misery is a sacred thing: for me,
I know no cheaper engine to degrade a man,
Nor any half so sure. This Stripling's mind
Is shaken till the dregs float on the surface;
And, in the storm and anguish of the heart,
He talks of a transition in his Soul,
And dreams that he is happy. We dissect
The senseless body, and why not the mind? --
These are strange sights--the mind of man, upturned,
Is in all natures a strange spectacle;
In some a hideous one--hem!
