The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth
Chapter 61 : OSWALD Am I neither To bear a part in this Man's punishment, Nor be its witness?MA

OSWALD Am I neither To bear a part in this Man's punishment, Nor be its witness?

MARMADUKE I had many hopes That were most dear to me, and some will bear To be transferred to thee.

OSWALD When I'm dishonoured!

MARMADUKE I would preserve thee. How may this be done?

OSWALD By showing that you look beyond the instant.

A few leagues hence we shall have open ground, And nowhere upon earth is place so fit To look upon the deed. Before we enter The barren Moor, hangs from a beetling rock The shattered Castle in which Clifford oft Has held infernal orgies--with the gloom, And very superst.i.tion of the place, Seasoning his wickedness. The Debauchee Would there perhaps have gathered the first fruits Of this mock Father's guilt.

[Enter Host conducting HERBERT.]

HOST The Baron Herbert Attends your pleasure.

OSWALD (to Host) We are ready-- (to HERBERT) Sir!

I hope you are refreshed.--I have just written A notice for your Daughter, that she may know What is become of you.--You'll sit down and sign it; 'Twill glad her heart to see her father's signature.

[Gives the letter he had written.]

HERBERT Thanks for your care.

[Sits down and writes. 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 pa.s.s 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.

His voice--methinks I hear it now, his voice When, after a broad flash that filled the cave, He said to me, that he had seen his Child, A face (no cherub's face more beautiful) Revealed by l.u.s.tre brought with it from heaven; And it was you, dear Lady!

IDONEA G.o.d be praised, That I have been his comforter till now!

And will be so through every change of fortune And every sacrifice his peace requires.-- Let us be gone with speed, that he may hear These joyful tidings from no lips but mine.

[Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims.]