The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 62

SCENE--The Area of a half-ruined Castle--on one side the entrance to a dungeon--OSWALD and MARMADUKE pacing backwards and forwards.

MARMADUKE 'Tis a wild night.

OSWALD I'd give my cloak and bonnet For sight of a warm fire.

MARMADUKE The wind blows keen; My hands are numb.

OSWALD Ha! ha! 'tis nipping cold.

[Blowing his fingers.]

I long for news of our brave Comrades; Lacy Would drive those Scottish Rovers to their dens If once they blew a horn this side the Tweed.

MARMADUKE I think I see a second range of Towers; This castle has another Area--come, Let us examine it.

OSWALD 'Tis a bitter night; I hope Idonea is well housed. That horseman, Who at full speed swept by us where the wood Roared in the tempest, was within an ace Of sending to his grave our precious Charge: That would have been a vile mischance.

MARMADUKE It would.

OSWALD Justice had been most cruelly defrauded.

MARMADUKE Most cruelly.

OSWALD As up the steep we clomb, I saw a distant fire in the north-east; I took it for the blaze of Cheviot Beacon: With proper speed our quarters may be gained To-morrow evening.

[He looks restlessly towards the mouth of the dungeon.]

MARMADUKE When, upon the plank, I had led him 'cross [4] the torrent, his voice blessed me: You could not hear, for the foam beat the rocks With deafening noise,--the benediction fell Back on himself; but changed into a curse.

OSWALD As well indeed it might.

MARMADUKE And this you deem The fittest place?

OSWALD (aside) He is growing pitiful.

MARMADUKE (listening) What an odd moaning that is!--

OSWALD. Mighty odd The wind should pipe a little, while we stand Cooling our heels in this way!--I'll begin And count the stars.

MARMADUKE (still listening) That dog of his, you are sure, Could not come after us--he _must_ have perished; The torrent would have dashed an oak to splinters.

You said you did not like his looks--that he Would trouble us; if he were here again, I swear the sight of him would quail me more Than twenty armies.

OSWALD How?

MARMADUKE The old blind Man, When you had told him the mischance, was troubled Even to the shedding of some natural tears Into the torrent over which he hung, Listening in vain.

OSWALD He has a tender heart!

[OSWALD offers to go down into the dungeon.]

MARMADUKE How now, what mean you?

OSWALD Truly, I was going To waken our stray Baron. Were there not A farm or dwelling-house within five leagues, We should deserve to wear a cap and bells, Three good round years, for playing the fool here In such a night as this.

MARMADUKE Stop, stop.

OSWALD Perhaps, You'd better like we should descend together, And lie down by his side--what say you to it?

Three of us--we should keep each other warm: I'll answer for it that our four-legged friend Shall not disturb us; further I'll not engage; Come, come, for manhood's sake!

MARMADUKE These drowsy s.h.i.+verings, This mortal stupor which is creeping over me, What do they mean? were this my single body Opposed to armies, not a nerve would tremble: Why do I tremble now?--Is not the depth Of this Man's crimes beyond the reach of thought?

And yet, in plumbing the abyss for judgment, Something I strike upon which turns my mind Back on herself, I think, again--my breast Concentres all the terrors of the Universe: I look at him and tremble like a child.

OSWALD Is it possible?

MARMADUKE One thing you noticed not: Just as we left the glen a clap of thunder Burst on the mountains with h.e.l.l-rousing force.

This is a time, said he, when guilt may shudder; But there's a Providence for them who walk In helplessness, when innocence is with them.

At this audacious blasphemy, I thought The spirit of vengeance seemed to ride the air.

OSWALD Why are you not the man you were that moment?