SCENE II. — A Room in Mervyn Castle .
Lord W OLD and L ADY M ERVYN
L ADY M ER . O yes, I'm better.
Glad, active hope — well may it now be mine! —
Will do the rest, as the leech says, and master
The virulent venom.
W OLD . Yonder's the dawn now.
I must be gone.
L ADY M ER . Trust me, 'tis not the dawn.
Rest till the morning break.
W OLD . Farewell, my Isabella;
I'll soon get rest enough!
L ADY M ER . Say you this sadly?
Ah me! What is't? There's something in your look!
W OLD . You're young, but just; and I must tell you all: —
My life is forfeit; I go back to death:
My mother let me forth to set you safe;
But I'm her prisoner still, under death's seal:
I die at noon: And I must back to Wold
Ere the sun's up — such was the pledge I gave her.
Now then, true heart!
L ADY M ER . Is it so, after all?
I'll with you, then, and plead upon my knees.
W OLD . You cannot pass her gates: No child of Mervyn
Will she let in
L ADY M ER . Ho, there! I'll get me rags;
I'll be a beggar, and get in. Once in,
I'll make her pardon you. Nay, speak me not;
How can I live with this lethargic poison
Still in my heart, unless I conquer it
With hope and action? Said not the leech so?
And will you kill me, then? I'll go, I will.
W OLD . This is vain fondness, child.
L ADY M ER . You shall not go.
I will not let you go. I'll call my guards.
I'll keep you prisoner here: You have slain my cousin Dunley;
I'll make you answer for't: Your mother shall not have you
Ho, there! Ah me!
W OLD . Look, yonder's the sun now
Thrusting his redness up the envious east.
I must be gone. Send me away, true virgin,
I charge you, now.
L ADY M ER . Ay, you must go. Go, then!
Is he gone? Blanche!
Enter B LANCHE .
Is he away? Oh yes.
Yonder he rides away in his old Roman faith!
The leech is with him. Who's yon female form,
That runs before them with her loins girt up?
B LANCHE . 'Tis Afra of the Cave.
L ADY M ER . Yes, she it is.
Look how she strikes her harp! how her wild hair
Streams on the wind! She's like some Prophetess
Carried away on Judgment's whirlwind wings!
B LANCHE . They disappear down in the woody vale.
Enter a Servant.
S ER . Madam, the Loyal Harper's daughter, Rachel, craves audience on life and death.
L ADY M ER . Admit her.
R ACH . Out, Lady, with all your men to the Long Wood. That way comes Sir Lionel Chayr, before the hour of execution, bringing deliverance for the Lord of Wold. But evil men are in the wood to intercept and slay him, that Lord Wold may perish. With you it rests now to save them both!
L ADY M ER . How know you all this, damsel?
R ACH . I was giving a little morning help to the blind old widow Houndsley, one of your Ladyship's pensioners, when in came her prodigal son, and flung himself down on a seat. I was putting on the old woman the new garments you had given her, when forth burst her heart in blessings upon you. Up started her son, when he heard it, and prayed me to run to Mervyn Castle with the message I have just delivered. He was in the plot himself as one of worse men's tools, but had drawn off, half in repentance, and half because he had heard of the death of his paymasters, Lord Dunley and Zebra. His accomplices, however, trusting to the special favour of one Martin, a wicked Lieutenant in Wold, who devised the scheme, are still in the wood to push it to execution.
L ADY M ER . I'll lead my men myself, and guard Chayr through
'Twill keep me alive. Come, Blanche. Could I but save
Wold's honoured life, I'd die content: O joy,
Could I but do it! Hold — Blanche, I'll send you on
Quite round the wood. Keep clear of it. Then fall
On the main road. Go onward. You may be
In time to meet Sir Lionel, ere he enter
The place of ambush. Warn him thus to shun
The forest way, and strike to Wold clear through
The open country. With our force, the while,
I'll down the wood, and help him if he's there.
To horse, good lass. Trusty young Crackenthorpe
Shall go with you. Rachel, great lives do hang
On what you've done for us here: You are our friend.
Lord W OLD and L ADY M ERVYN
L ADY M ER . O yes, I'm better.
Glad, active hope — well may it now be mine! —
Will do the rest, as the leech says, and master
The virulent venom.
W OLD . Yonder's the dawn now.
I must be gone.
L ADY M ER . Trust me, 'tis not the dawn.
Rest till the morning break.
W OLD . Farewell, my Isabella;
I'll soon get rest enough!
L ADY M ER . Say you this sadly?
Ah me! What is't? There's something in your look!
W OLD . You're young, but just; and I must tell you all: —
My life is forfeit; I go back to death:
My mother let me forth to set you safe;
But I'm her prisoner still, under death's seal:
I die at noon: And I must back to Wold
Ere the sun's up — such was the pledge I gave her.
Now then, true heart!
L ADY M ER . Is it so, after all?
I'll with you, then, and plead upon my knees.
W OLD . You cannot pass her gates: No child of Mervyn
Will she let in
L ADY M ER . Ho, there! I'll get me rags;
I'll be a beggar, and get in. Once in,
I'll make her pardon you. Nay, speak me not;
How can I live with this lethargic poison
Still in my heart, unless I conquer it
With hope and action? Said not the leech so?
And will you kill me, then? I'll go, I will.
W OLD . This is vain fondness, child.
L ADY M ER . You shall not go.
I will not let you go. I'll call my guards.
I'll keep you prisoner here: You have slain my cousin Dunley;
I'll make you answer for't: Your mother shall not have you
Ho, there! Ah me!
W OLD . Look, yonder's the sun now
Thrusting his redness up the envious east.
I must be gone. Send me away, true virgin,
I charge you, now.
L ADY M ER . Ay, you must go. Go, then!
Is he gone? Blanche!
Enter B LANCHE .
Is he away? Oh yes.
Yonder he rides away in his old Roman faith!
The leech is with him. Who's yon female form,
That runs before them with her loins girt up?
B LANCHE . 'Tis Afra of the Cave.
L ADY M ER . Yes, she it is.
Look how she strikes her harp! how her wild hair
Streams on the wind! She's like some Prophetess
Carried away on Judgment's whirlwind wings!
B LANCHE . They disappear down in the woody vale.
Enter a Servant.
S ER . Madam, the Loyal Harper's daughter, Rachel, craves audience on life and death.
L ADY M ER . Admit her.
R ACH . Out, Lady, with all your men to the Long Wood. That way comes Sir Lionel Chayr, before the hour of execution, bringing deliverance for the Lord of Wold. But evil men are in the wood to intercept and slay him, that Lord Wold may perish. With you it rests now to save them both!
L ADY M ER . How know you all this, damsel?
R ACH . I was giving a little morning help to the blind old widow Houndsley, one of your Ladyship's pensioners, when in came her prodigal son, and flung himself down on a seat. I was putting on the old woman the new garments you had given her, when forth burst her heart in blessings upon you. Up started her son, when he heard it, and prayed me to run to Mervyn Castle with the message I have just delivered. He was in the plot himself as one of worse men's tools, but had drawn off, half in repentance, and half because he had heard of the death of his paymasters, Lord Dunley and Zebra. His accomplices, however, trusting to the special favour of one Martin, a wicked Lieutenant in Wold, who devised the scheme, are still in the wood to push it to execution.
L ADY M ER . I'll lead my men myself, and guard Chayr through
'Twill keep me alive. Come, Blanche. Could I but save
Wold's honoured life, I'd die content: O joy,
Could I but do it! Hold — Blanche, I'll send you on
Quite round the wood. Keep clear of it. Then fall
On the main road. Go onward. You may be
In time to meet Sir Lionel, ere he enter
The place of ambush. Warn him thus to shun
The forest way, and strike to Wold clear through
The open country. With our force, the while,
I'll down the wood, and help him if he's there.
To horse, good lass. Trusty young Crackenthorpe
Shall go with you. Rachel, great lives do hang
On what you've done for us here: You are our friend.