In which a man may come to his end, whose crimes
Have roused all nature up against him- pshaw! –
Her. For mercy's sake is nobody in sight?
No traveller, peasant, herdsman?

Mur.

Not a soul:
Here is a tree, ragged, and bent, and bare,
That turns its goat's-beard flakes of pea-green moss
From the stern breathing of the rough sea-wind;
'This have we, but no other company:
Commend me to the place. If a man should die
And leave his body here, it were all one
As he were twenty fathoms underground.
Her. Where is our common friend?
Mar.
The spirit of a murdered man, for instance-
Might have fine room to ramble about here,
A grand domain to squeak and gibber in.
Her. Lost man! if thou hast any close-pent guilt
Pressing upon thy heart, and this the hour
Of visitation

Mar.

A ghost, methinks

A bold word from you!

Her. Restore him, Heaven!
Mar.

Whom no one comes to meet, I stood alone;-
I murmured —but, remembering Him who feeds
The pelican and ostrich of the desert,
From my own threshold I looked up to Heaven
And did not want glimmerings of quiet hope.
So, from the court I passed, and down the brook,
Led by its murmur, to the ancient oak

I came; and when I felt its cooling shade,

The desperate wretch!- A flower, I sate me down, and cannot but believe-
While in my lap I held my little babe

Fairest of all flowers, was she once, but now

More with delight than grief — I heard a voice
Such as by Cherith on Elijah called;

They have snapped her from the stem-Poh! let her lie And clasped her to my heart, my heart that ached
Besoiled with mire, and let the houseless snail
Feed on her leaves. You knew her well-ay, there,
Old man! you were a very lynx, you knew
The worm was in her

Her.

It said, "I will be with thee." A little boy,
A shepherd-lad, ere yet my trance was gone,

Mercy! Sir, what mean you? Hailed us as if he had been sent from heaven,

Mar. You have a daughter!
Her.

O, that she were here!-
She hath an eye that sinks into all hearts,
And if I have in aught offended you,
Soon would her gentle voice make peace between us.
Mar. (aside.) I do believe he weeps-I could weep

too

There is a vein of her voice that runs through his:
Even such a man my fancy boded forth
From the first moment that I loved the maid;
And for his sake I loved her more: these tears-
I did not think that aught was left in me
Of what I have been-yes, I thank thee, Heaven!
One happy thought has passed across my mind.

It may not be I am cut off from man;

No more shall I be man-no more shall I

--

And said with tears, that he would be our guide:
I had a better guide-that innocent babe-
Her, who hath saved me, to this hour, from harm,
From cold, from hunger, penury, and death;
To whom I owe the best of all the good

I have, or wish for, upon earth — and more
And higher far than lies within earth's bounds:
Therefore I bless her: when I think of man,

I bless her with sad spirit,-when of God,

I bless her in the fulness of my joy!

Mar. The name of daughter in his mouth, he prays! With nerves so steady, that the very flies

Sit unmolested on his staff.-Innocent!-
If he were innocent - then he would tremble
And be disturbed, as I am. (Turning aside.) I have
read

Have human feelings!-(To HERBERT.) Now for a In story, what men now alive have witnessed,

How, when the people's mind was wracked with doubt,
Appeal was made to the great Judge: the accused
With naked feet walked over burning ploughshares.
Here is a man by nature's hand prepared

For a like trial, but more merciful.

Why else have I been led to this bleak waste?
Bare is it, without house or track, and destitute
Of obvious shelter, as a shipless sea.
Here will I leave him-here-All-seeing God!
Such as he is, and sore perplexed as I am;
Learn, young man, I will commit him to this final Ordeal! -
He heard a voice-a shepherd-lad came to him

To fear the virtuous and reverence misery,

Should prove as Lennox has foretold, then swear,

[He leaves HERBERT on the Moor. My friends, his heart shall have as many wounds As there are daggers here. Lacy.

Osw. Nay, then-I am mistaken. There's a weak- Ill names, can render no ill services,

ness

About you still; you talk of solitude

I am your friend.

Mar.

What need of this assurance At any time? and why given now?

Because

In recompense for what themselves required.
So meet extremes in this mysterious world,
And opposites thus melt into each other.

Mar. Time, since man first drew breath, has never
moved

Osw.
You are now in truth my master; you have taught me But they will soon be lightened.
What there is not another living man

With such a weight upon his wings as now;

Had strength to teach; and therefore gratitude

Is bold, and would relieve itself by praise.

Because I feel

Mar. Wherefore press this on me?
Osw.
That you have shown, and by a signal instance,
How they who would be just must seek the rule
By diving for it into their own bosoms.
To-day you have thrown off a tyranny
That lives but in the torpid acquiescence
Of our emasculated souls, the tyranny

Of the world's masters, with the musty rules

By which they uphold their craft from age to age:
You have obeyed the only law that sense
Submits to recognise; the immediate law,
From the clear light of circumstances, flashed
Upon an independent intellect.

Henceforth new prospects open on your path;
Your faculties should grow with the demand;
I still will be your friend, will cleave to you
Through good and evil, obloquy and scorn
Oft as they dare to follow on your steps.
Mar. I would be left alone.
Osw. (exultingly.)

I know your motives!
I am not of the world's presumptuous judges,
Who damn where they can neither see nor feel,
With a hard-hearted ignorance; your struggles
I witnessed, and now hail your victory.
Mar. Spare me awhile that greeting
Osw.

It may be,
That some there are, squeamish half-thinking cowards,
Who will turn pale upon you, call you murderer,
And you will walk in solitude among them.
A mighty evil for a strong-built mind!
Join twenty tapers of unequal height
And light them joined, and you will see the less
How 't will burn down the taller; and they all
Shall prey upon the tallest. Solitude!
The eagle lives in solitude!

Mar.

Even so,

The sparrow so on the house-top, and I,

-

The weakest of God's creatures, stand resolved

To abide the issue of my act, alone.

Osw.
Ay, look up-
Cast round your mind's eye, and you will learn
Fortitude is the child of Enterprise:
Great actions move our admiration, chiefly
Because they carry in themselves an earnest
That we can suffer greatly.

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.

Mar. Now, whither are you wandering? That a man
So used to suit his language to the time,

Osw. Now would you? and for ever? - My young Should thus so widely differ from himself — friend,

As time advances either we become

The prey or masters of our own past deeds.
Fellowship we must have, willing or no;
And if good Angels fail, slack in their duty,
Substitutes, turn our faces where we may,
Are still forthcoming; some which, though they bear

It is most strange.
Osw.

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

This is a happy day. My father soon
Shall sun himself before his native doors;
The lame, the hungry, will be welcome there.

Mar. I have borne my burthen to its destined end.
Osw. This instant we'll return to our companions-No more shall he complain of wasted strength,
O, how I long to see their faces again!

Enter IDONEA, with Pilgrims who continue their

journey.

Of thoughts that fail, and a decaying heart;
His good works will be balm and life to him.
Mar. This is most strange!-I know not what it was,
But there was something which most plainly said,

Idon. (after some time.) What, Marmaduke! now That thou wert innocent.
thou art mine for ever.
Idon.
How innocent!
And Oswald, too! (To MARMADUKE.) On will we to O, heavens! you've been deceived.
my father

With the glad tidings which this day hath brought;
We'll go together, and such proof received
Of his own rights restored, his gratitude

To God above will make him feel for ours.

Thou art a woman,

Mar.
To bring perdition on the universe.
Idon. Already I've been punished to the height
Of my offence.
[Smiling affectionately.

I

see you love me still,

What ails you! [Distractedly.

Mar. The scrip that held his food, and I forgot
To give it back again!
Idon.
What mean your words?
Mar. I know not what I said—all may be well.
Idon. That smile hath life in it!
Mar.

This road is perilous;