Are still forthcoming; some which, though they bear It is most strange.

Ill names, can render no ill services,

In recompense for what themselves required.

Mar. Time, since Man first drew breath, has More deeply, taught us that the institutes

ACT IV.

SCENE, A desolate prospect-a ridge of rocks-a
Chapel on the summit of one-Moon behind the
rocks-night stormy-irregular sound of a bell-
HERBERT enters exhausted.

Her. That Chapel-bell in mercy seemed to guide me,
But now it mocks my steps; its fitful stroke
Can scarcely be the work of human hands.
Hear me, ye Men, upon the cliffs, if such
There be who pray nightly before the Altar.
Oh that I had but strength to reach the place!
My Child-my child-dark-dark-I faint this

wind

These stifling blasts-God help me!

Eld.

Enter ELDred.

Better this bare rock,

Though it were tottering over a man's head,
Than a tight case of dungeon walls for shelter
From such rough dealing.

[A moaning voice is heard.
Ha! what sound is that?

Trees creaking in the wind (but none are here)
Send forth such noises-and that weary bell!
Surely some evil Spirit abroad to-night

Is ringing it 'twould stop a Saint in prayer,
And that what is it? never was sound so like
A human groan. Ha! what is here? Poor Man-
Murdered! alas! speak-speak, I am your friend:
No answer-hush-lost wretch, he lifts his hand
And lays it to his heart-(Kneels to him). I pray
you speak!

What has befallen you?

Her. (feebly).

This day's event has laid on me the duty
Of opening out my story; you must hear it,
And without further preface.—In my youth,
Except for that abatement which is paid
By envy as a tribute to desert,

I was the pleasure of all hearts, the darling
Of every tongue as you are now. You've heard
That I embarked for Syria. On our voyage
Was hatched among the crew a foul Conspiracy
Against my honour, in the which our Captain
Was, I believed, prime Agent. The wind fell;
We lay becalmed week after week, until
The water of the vessel was exhausted;
I felt a double fever in my veins,

Yet rage suppressed itself;-to a deep stillness
Did my pride tame my pride ;--for many days,
On a dead sea under a burning sky,

I brooded o'er my injuries, deserted
By man and nature ;—if a breeze had blown,
It might have found its way into my heart,
And I had been-no matter-do you mark me?
Mar. Quick-to the point-if any untold crime
Doth haunt your memory.

Osw.
Patience, hear me further!-
One day in silence did we drift at noon

By a bare rock, narrow, and white, and bare;
No food was there, no drink, no grass, no shade,
No tree, nor jutting eminence, nor form
Inanimate large as the body of man,
Nor any living thing whose lot of life
Might stretch beyond the measure of one moon.
To dig for water on the spot, the Captain
Landed with a small troop, myself being one:
There I reproached him with his treachery.
Imperious at all times, his temper rose;

A stranger has done this, He struck me; and that instant had I killed him,
And put an end to his insolence, but my Comrades
Rushed in between us: then did I insist

And in the arms of a stranger I must die.

Eld. Nay, think not so: come, let me raise you up :

[Raises him.

(All hated him, and I was stung to madness)
That we should leave him there, alive!—we did so.
Mar. And he was famished ?

Osw.
Naked was the spot;
Methinks I see it now-how in the sun
Its stony surface glittered like a shield;
And in that miserable place we left him,
Alone but for a swarm of minute creatures
Not one of which could help him while alive,
Or mourn him dead.

Mar.
A man by men cast off,
Left without burial! nay, not dead nor dying,
| But standing, walking, stretching forth his arms,
In all things like ourselves, but in the agony
With which he called for mercy; and-even so-
He was forsaken ?

Osw.
There is a power in sounds:
The cries he uttered might have stopped the boat
That bore us through the water-

Mar.

You returned Upon that dismal hearing-did you not?

Osw. Some scoffed at him with hellish mockery, And laughed so loud it seemed that the smooth sea Did from some distant region echo us.

Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on,
Through words and things, a dim and perilous way;
And, wheresoe'er I turned me, I beheld
A slavery compared to which the dungeon
And clanking chains are perfect liberty.
You understand me--I was comforted;
I saw that every possible shape of action
Might lead to good-I saw it and burst forth

Mar. We all are of one blood, our veins are filled Thirsting for some of those exploits that fill
At the same poisonous fountain!

The earth for sure redemption of lost peace.
[Marking MARMADUKE's countenance.
Nay, you have had the worst. Ferocity
Subsided in a moment, like a wind

That drops down dead out of a sky it vexed.
And yet I had within me evermore

Mar. But his own crime had brought on him A salient spring of energy; I mounted

this doom,

His wickedness prepared it; these expedients

Are terrible, yet ours is not the fault.

From action up to action with a mind

That never rested--without meat or drink
Have I lived many days-my sleep was bound

Osw. The man was famished, and was innocent! To purposes of reason-not a dream
Mar. Impossible !

Osw.
The man had never wronged me.
Mar. Banish the thought, crush it, and be at
peace.

His guilt was marked-these things could never be
Were there not eyes that see, and for good ends,
Where ours are baffled.

Osw.
I had been deceived.
Mar. And from that hour the miserable man
No more was heard of?

Osw.

The Crew

I had been betrayed.
Mar. And he found no deliverance !
Osw.
Gave me a hearty welcome; they had laid
The plot to rid themselves, at any cost,
Of a tyrannic Master whom they loathed.
So we pursued our voyage: when we landed,
The tale was spread abroad; my power at once
Shrunk from me; plans and schemes, and lofty
hopes

All vanished. I gave way-do you attend?
Mar. The Crew deceived you?
Osw.

Nay, command yourself.
Mar. It is a dismal night-how the wind howls!
Osw. I hid my head within a Convent, there
Lay passive as a dormouse in mid winter.
That was no life for me--I was o'erthrown,
But not destroyed.

But had a continuity and substance
That waking life had never power to give.

Mar. O wretched Human-kind! -- Until the
mystery

Of all this world is solved, well may we envy
The worm, that, underneath a stone whose weight
Would crush the lion's paw with mortal anguish,
Doth lodge, and feed, and coil, and sleep, in safety.
Fell not the wrath of Heaven upon those traitors!
Osw. Give not to them a thought. From Palestine
We marched to Syria: oft I left the Camp,
When all that multitude of hearts was still,
And followed on, through woods of gloomy cedar,
Into deep chasms troubled by roaring streams;
Or from the top of Lebanon surveyed
The moonlight desert, and the moonlight sea:
In these my lonely wanderings I perceived
What mighty objects do impress their forms
To elevate our intellectual being;
And felt, if aught on earth deserves a curse,
"Tis that worst principle of ill which dooms
A thing so great to perish self-consumed.
So much for my remorse!

Young Man, the seed must lie Hid in the earth, or there can be no harvest ;

Mar. I pity, can forgive, you; but those 'Tis Nature's law. What I have done in darkness wretches