i i liiiniiiiii liiiniiniiii I I u 111 iirniiii 1 11 Hi iNii 1 M it t itiii lit H HH H 1 Mt THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES . ,-5 4.0/ .■^Kf {^M^^ I THE OUTLAW; A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS. B¥ ROBERT STORY. LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND CO. MDCCCXXXIX. Printed by J, TASKBR, Bookseller, St c, , Sklpton. DEDICATION. TO THE MISS CURRER, OF ESHTON-HALL, ' YORKSHIRE. Madam, The scene of the following attempt is laid in Craven, and the period « to which it refers is the year 1518. Though it bears the form and the name of a Drama, I presume not to think that it will suit the theatre — having had no 857321 IV opportunities of studying stage-effect, upon which, I am told, almost every thing in the acted drama depends. My utmost expectation will be realised, if, in these pages, I have produced a series of con- nected scenes, capable of giving pleasure in the closet, — by their liveliness of dialogue, by their developement of cha- racter, and by their pictures of landscape and manners. Humble as this hope may appear to some, I submit my present effort to the public with unaffected diffidence. An adventure in a walk of literature hitherto untried by me, and very different, too. from that in which I have been cheered by some public favom*, — I have misgivings as to its reception which it were vain to disguise. But whatever may be its ul- timate doom, it goes forth to the world under one advantage, with one charm, which — in the circle (not a small one) pervaded by your gentle and kindly influence — will secure for it at least a fair hearing, — the charm, Madam, of your NAME, the advantage of YOUR protection. That you may long live to dispense happiness, and to feel it in return, — to foster genius, to encourage literature, and to feed the poor, — to maintain, in a VI word, the high character which, several years ago, I did not invent for but copy from you — the character of a Lady wlio, "Where'er her name is known. Makes every blessing, every prayer her own," is the sincere wish of, Madam, Your obedient and obHged Servant, ROBERT STORY. Gargrave, Craven, Yorlshire, April, 1839. Vll DRAMATIS PERSONS. Lord Clifford. The Prior of Bolton Abrey. Henry, the Outlaw. Norton, his secret enemy. „ ' f Gentlemen of Craven. Farrand, 3 Harman Trueman, Keeper of a Hostelry. CuTHBERT AsHTON, Ranger to Lord Clifford. Outlaws and Rangers. The Earl of Northumberland. Fenwick, 7 Grey, i^''^'' Swinburne, Orde, _ yKniqhts. LiLBURN, I ^ Ridley, RoDDAM, a yoking gentleman, page to Earl Percy. Attendants. Lady Margaret Percy. Lady Emma Fenwick. Cathleen, a young gentlewoman) their Attendant, Fanny Ashton. Wife of Cuthbert. TIME. The transactions of the first four Acts occupy two days. An equal period is supposed to elapse between the fourth and the fifth. The events of the last Act take place, therefore, on tlie fifth day. THE OUTLAW. ACT I. SCENE I. Subterranean apartment in the Hostelry or Inn at Kilnsey. At a rude table, garnished with drink ing-vessels, sit a company of men in jerkens and armed, HENRY (sings). Mine Host of Kilnsey keeps good ale. But then 'tis charged a plack the pot ; The Skipton Brewers seldom fail. But then, the churls, they give it not. The knaves may keep their cellars shut — A holier gust is yours and mine : We liberals like a liberal butt. The butt that holds the Abbot's wine. Chorus. — The knaves may, &c. The monks of Sawley love good cheer. But love to keep it to themselves; B 10 TH^ OUTLAW. Act I. At Malham there is foaming beer. But few to drink it save the elves. And these prefer the gehd wave That from the Fall leads out its line; But when we sit in Gennet's cave. Our choice is still the Abbot's wine. Chorus. — And these prefer, &c. King Harry is a monarch bold. But here his power is little felt; We rule as Kings of wood and wold. Our bright Toledo's at our belt. We keep our fair dominions thus — [Drawing his Sword. Nor envy him his right divine ; We make the Church pay tithe to us, And merrily quaff the Abbot's wine ! Chorus. — We keep our fair dominions thus, &c. [All draw. HENKY. A truce to song. My voice is out of tune. — They do us wrong, my Brothers of the night And of the forest, blithe and brave as e'er Sung catch or shot a deer in merry Sherwood, Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 11 When Robin Hood was the bold monarch there — They do us utter wTong who style us Outlaws. Tis true we love the greenwood, press for couch The mountain heather — strewed upon the floor Of some rock-vaulted cavern — and 'tis true. When whim commands, our an'ows mark the deer. Marked fondly by Lord Clifford as his own. ' Tis also true, that when to dine we sit Beneath the spreading oak, if thirst awake. We slake it with a draught of noble vintage. Cooled in some vaults we wot of. But it is Most incorrect to call us, therefore. Outlaws. We live as men o'th' world, who clothe themselves By fleecing well their neighbours; only we. Too honourable to imitate their meanness. Take that hy force which they obtain by fraud. [ The door flies open. To arms ! there is intrusion — \_Enter the Host. Kindly meant, though, And therefore welcome. 'Tis our ancient Host, Good Harman Trueman. Wherefore, worthy friend. This visit at so late an hour ? It must b2 12 THE OUTLAW. Act I. Be near the time when sky-larks stir their wings To quit the dewy mead-flowers. But I judge Thy guests so long have revelled, they have left But empty casks at Kilnsey ; and thou com'st, Most wisely com'st, to quaff with us of Fountains, Quaff then, and tell us — if the truth wont choke thee — How far the Abbot's wine exceeds thine own. One fault it has; but that is found, good Trueman, Neither in taste nor hue, and Sawley's vaults Shall furnish the corrective. HOST. Noble souls ! The Abbot's vintage is indeed delicious. But much I fear the end of this wild course, Which gives you thus to drink the wine of Abbots, Is hunying on ; and that these eyes must soon Rain tears as copiously as April skies. To see you caper, every breeze's pastime, ' Twixt heaven and earth, or mark your grinning heads Blacken on Skip ton's gate- way. HENRY. Kind old man, I well believe that thou wilt weep for us. Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 13 But drink again ! 'Twill greatly help the flow Of tears whose fount hath long been frozen up. And every drop, when thus distilled from wine. Will be more worthy of the friends it falls for. HOST. Well, well, ye heed me not. And since it is so. Since moral precepts and advices sage Glance from your bosoms, as the pointed steel From warrior's breast-plate, I must tell my tidings ; And mark me, tidings that involve a project. Which, deftly managed, will insure you sport Richer than frightening monk, or robbing convent. OMXES. Name it ! HOST. Perchance ye know my roof to-night Ts honoured by two ladies. Passing fair Are both ; but one — by good St. George of Kilnsey ! My Father's saint and mine — that one's an Angel ! When Margery was young, she rolled, methought, As fine an eye as ever beamed through lash ; But with this stranger's matched, 'twere as that taper Against the star of evening! b3 14 THE OUTLAW. Act I. HENRV. Fair indeed Must be the maid tlioii talk'st of, since her charms Have kindled in thy cranium — where till now Idea ne'er was bred that deeper reached Than spirit-vault, or higher rose than board At which thy topers congregate — a flash So very bright that it might half illumine A Poetaster's page ! — But for the project, What woujdst advise ? HOST. Catch Yorkshire, friend ? Not so. What if I said this falcon, come to flaunt In Craven skies, might well repay the lure P That every feather of her wing outweighs A good King Harry's broad-piece ? My descrijnion Might lead you into guilt, and Trueman's conscience, Light as a child's, miglit with a load he burthened, Tiiat it were best ye share among yourselves. No, no ! I'm but a Guide-post— standing so — [Extends his arm. To point the way that leads you on to fortune. Scene L THE OUTLAW. lo Or seems to lead ; but into that same way I force no man to enter. HENRY. Honest Harman, I own thy prudeuco and moralic} . But say, what is the service to be done. And who the nymph that asks it ? HOST. Wliy, the service Is but to lead the Northern Cavalcade Through this wild land of ours, to Sawley Abbey ; And the fair nymph that asks it, is the same T just described vou. HENRY. And her name, dull prosor ? HOST. The Lady Margaret Percy. [Henry starts up, and strides through the apartmrnf in a state of great mental excitement. He then (jires the Host a sifj)i to icithdraw, which is ol)eyed irith marks of deference and humility. HENRY. Here ends the Outlaw ! 16 THE OUTLAW. Art I. FIRST OUTLAW. For a i^lay so good It ends too soon. HENRY. Farce, friend, a wretched farce, In vvhicli I've played the part of chief buffoon, But shall no more. A nobler stage awaits me, A nobler part demands my energies. Norton, a word with you. {Exeunt Henry and Norton, and re-enter Host speaking. HOST. By good St. George ! Why, what's up now ? I met the Chief and Norton, Who pass'd me like the wind ; and, sooth to say, Have almost taken mine in that strait passage I riRST OUTLAW. That speed, my friend, bodes no good speed to thee. host. What ! How ! Hath there been treachery ? first outlaw. Calm thy fears. The Chief hath turned devout, that's ail, and means* Scene I. THE OUTLAW IT To join his monkish sire in chduling hymns, And calculating horoscopes. HOST. ' Tis time So wild a colt should own the curb, and learn To go in harness. FIRST OUTLAW. Dost thou take it so !* When it is sure as Kilnsey Crag itself. That thou mayst whistle for thy gains. HOST. Well be't so ; Old Trueman hath enough of wealth. SECOND OUTLAW. Come, come; Pretend not this indifference, hut confess Thou lik'st the chink of gold, wouldst rather hear The music of a thousand good broad-pieces Jingling at once, than that of Sunday bells Chiming to chapel. HOST. Why, for that, they botii Are too familiar to afford a joy 18 THE OUTLAW. Act I. Superlative from either — thank the saint ! But, to say truth, my pleasure is not in A rush or sudden overflux of fortune. Which might deprive me of my footing, and Take sense away i'th' current. FIRST OUTLAW. Thou dost like To see it come in gentle rill, as streams The wine from out the cask. HOST. Precisely so ; And thou hast pilfered my comparison. — The heir of others' wealth knows not the joy. The honest joy of him who makes his own. To start in life with little; with keen eye And ready hand, to watch and seize the first Advantage-step in Fortune's upward ladder ; To lay the future pyramid's hroad base With piece on piece, as day succeeds to day ; To see it rise and rise, and yet to know There is not in the gi'owing heap a coin But was placed there b)- labour or by thought. The hand's work or the head's j — this, this is pleasure 1 Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 19 I'IRST OUTLAW. I thank thee, Harman, for that homily, Learned at the tap — it could be learned but there — Where each day hoards its little mite of gain. SECOND OUTLAW. A mite would buy the Widow's ten times doubled. Or else good water's costly. THIRD OUTLAW. That remark. Old Harman, is too bad. He means to say The Wharf hath some acquaintance with thy wine. HOST. The river, like his wit, is far beneath The level of my cellar. OMNES (laughing). Well said, Trueman. SECOND OUTLAW. But water may be carried, good mine Host ? HOST. And your wit cannot. FIRST OUTLAW. Why ? Is it so heavy ? 20 THE OUTLAW. Act I. HOST. No ; 'tis too light — 'tis nought, which he who winnows Will not have even chafF for his reward. SECOND OUTLAW. Thou'rt sharp, sir. But the Crag hath nearer springs, And cooler than the river. HOST. I know brains To which the sjnings of Kilnsey, if applied. With a slight tinge of Rhenish, might be useful. So useful as to give the name of virtue To the considerate knavery that bilked them. [^A general laugh. But when I showed The joy of saving cash, I meant not that Of him who hoards it for its own vile sake. I meant the pleasure of a man who cares As little for the dross which men call gold As any one that hears me ; but who loves The independence and the power it gives, And, for their sakes, would strain each nerve to gain it By fair and honest means. Scen^ I. THE OUTLAW. 21 FIRST OUTLAW. Dost glance at us In these sagacious saws ? HOST. / glance at ye ! Rest every cask on its own end, say I. To him that stands on Whernside-top, out Crag Appears a mole-hill; so what I might deem A crime, or fault, to your exalted eyes May seem a irolic. THIRD OUTLAW. {Throwing a piece of Money on the Tuhle. Canst thou, in consistence With thy new-found morality, take that, And bring us its equivalent in wine ? HOST. Most surely, Sir! with pleasure. THIRD OUTLAW. What, although 'Twas taken from a Bishop, honest Trueman ? HOST. If thou hadst said 'twas taken from the Devil, 22 THE OUTLAW. Act I. 'Twere nought to me. Thou shalt have beverage Fit for a King — imported from the Rhine. SECOND OUTLAW. And innocent of Wharf? J'IRST OUTLAW. Come, come; we joke The honest man too far. Away, and put That piece upon the pyramid. HOST (going out). I win. But not while thou art here. [Aside and exit. flKST OUTLAW. Slirewd knave ! The very pink of publicans, whose rule Is, ne'er to contradict a guest's opinion That bears a goodly purse. SECOND OUTLAW. Enough of him. What of our Leader ? Will he quit the pack ? Or hunt with us as erst ? His opening note Gives token that the scent lies strong. riKST OUTLAW. Nor, doubtless. Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 23 Is the fair Hind unworthy of the chase; And we will drink success to him. — Host ! Host ! HOST (entering). Coming, ye madcaijs ! coming. There — [Setting the Wine on the Table. FIRST OUTLAW. Fill round. — Now — standing — drain a hamper; then to cover: " Soon may the noble Doe from northern woods Be captive in his toils!' [All drink and a general huzza follows. Kind Host, adieu. Broad be the basis of thy pyramid, And may its height match Whernside I HOST. Thanks ! [Exeunt Outlaws. God mend them I Yet if he did, it would not mend my profits. O self — self — self! — How virtuous one might be. If it cost nought to be so ! c2 24 THE OUTLAW. Act I. SCEriSE II. Kilnsey Crag. Henry anc? Norton discovered at the base of it. HENRY. O ! to have seen her, Norton, in these arms, Pale as a lily— pale as if the death These arms had saved her from, had found her there I Then to have watched returning colour faintly Shine through the white — as dawn's red clouds through mist! — And O ! returning light to that fair eye Which opened on me like the star of Morning — Heavens ! 'twas a moment and a rapture, worth All the best hours and feelings of my life ! N(»RTON. A tender moment, and a fortunate For a disclosure of your name and love, ^Y which, of course, you profited. HENRY. It seems Indeed, a time most opportune; but, Norton, Scene 11. THE OUTLAW. 25 We are made up of inconsistencies. I hardly know, e'en yet, why I let 'scape That golden moment. Something I had learned Of visit to these wilds; and it might ba That my romantic fancy nursed some scheme Of gay adventure — some surprise — when She Should grace my native scenes. NORTON. But your return To the wild band of old associates. And leading them in wrong, or in excess. Seems a strange burying of new hopes. HENKY. It may. Yet think of. habit, Norton. And besides. Perchance I thought my band of gallant Outlaws Might be of use to aid whatever plan Should catch my wayward humour. NORTON. And they will; Depend upon their faith, and zoal to serve you. HENRT. You touch the very point on which I want c3 26 THE OUTLAW. Ad I. Your best co-operation. As I told you, This Outlaw farce must terminate. Myself Will counsel D'Eston, Farrand, and the rest. Your word will weigh with the inferior names, And eke with those brave peasants, whom our leadins; Hath somewhat injured. Go, my friend; share this [Gives him a Purse. Among my humble followers, and assure them That if they now abandon this wild life. And settle down to honest villagers, That small donation of their grateful Chief Shall often be repeated. Act with firmness. My order, tell them, is imperative. That they must understand; j'et mildly say it. Nor wound a single feeling. — Pardon me A caution which I feel your prudence needs not. Farewell a while. Remember. lExit Henry. NORTON (solus). Yes — I swear it! Bear witness, ye pale stars, I will remember! If thou and thine had covered me with favours ; If my House — which is ancient as thine own — Had been distinguished by the courtesies Scene 11. THE OUTLAW. 27 Lavished on richer, not on better men ; I might have been forgelful — like the world. If thou and thine had ne'er o'ershadowed me, As the proud oak the shrub; if thou — ay, thou — Hadst never crossed my path, nor dashed my hopes. E'en where my dearest feelings were concerned ; I might have been forgetful. But deep wrongs. And slights that cut like wrongs, and — worse than all — That show of kindness to disguise a heart Of haughtiness and pride, demand remembrance ! To benefits tbe memory is a sieve, Which injuries will not pass through. Be it so. Mine shall be treasured here — until avenged ! [ExH. 28 THE OUTLAW. ^-i J. SCENE ill. Kilnsey Crag as before, hut brightened by the advan- cing morn. Cathleen discovered near the base. To her enter Roddam. RODDAM. Sweet dawn and sweet Catlileen, met in a place Both wild and sweet ! Why, you at least, Cathleen, Have entered early on the pleasant trifling. That brings yonr Lady to the emerald dales And craggy hills of Craven. ^Contemplates the Crag. Well, this rock, Which hangs its rugged, high, and beetling mass. As if a touch might hurl it to the plain. Is worthy the attention it arrests. So, doubtless, thinks Cathleen ? CATHLEEN. In sooth, fair sir, Cathleen had other musings. RODDAM. O, no doubt; Seme III. THE OUTLAW. 29 Such as young maidens will have, who have faith In their own loveliness. CATHLEEN. Nay, Roddara, hear : I had a dream last night. RODDAM. I guess, so, sweet. You dreamt last night, and you are dreaming now-, As soldiers dream— of blood— ('sAe starts) I only niean Of bleeding hearts, and conquests. In your vision, How many Knights of Craven, fair Cathleen, Bound in the magic circle of your gaze. Paid their devoirs. CATHLEEN. Not quite a hundred, sir. RODDAM. Ha, well ; but fifty ? — twenty ? — ten or five ? CATHLEEN. Nay, more than five or ten. I think a score. RODDAM. By Venus, a fair number to select from ! I hope the vision gave you time to choose ? 30 THE OUTLAW. ,4c t I. CATHLEEN. It did, and I made choice, RODDAM. Now, kind Cathleen, You crucify me ! Do not jest too far. You know my temper, and you know my heart. CATHLEEN. The one's like summer lightning, and the other Like winter snow. RODDAM. My heart's not cold, Cathleen. CaTHLEEN. Indeed I would not have it so. RODDAM. You would not ? Then are you kind as beautiful; and I Must thank you thus — (Attempts to embrace her.) CATHLEEN. Presume not so, bold sir. This was not in my dream — which is a trifle Too light for Roddam's ear. RODDAM. By heaven, you wrong me ! Scene HI. THE OUTLAW. 31 When Cadileen speaks, the ear of Roddam finds No music in the tones of harp or lute ! Forgive my levity. I long to hear The dream that to my Cathleen's beauty lends The charm of pensiveness. CATHLEEN. It seemed, at first. We still were on our journey from the North. The vales of Tyne, of Tees, and streamy Ure, 1 saw again, as in a picture. Then We reached a Dell which, ever as we went. Narrowed and deepened, and at last closed in Dark as a cavern. As we stood, melhought. Flashed the red lightning. Peal on peal the roar Of thunder followed ; and it seemed the rocks, Piled o'er our heads, had each a separate echo. Wherewith to mock the elements ! RODDAM. You woke In horror at the tumult ? CATHLEEN. No ; my dream Was still prolonged, till deeper honor struck 32 THE OUTLAW. Act I. The nerves of sleep. The noise of mortal conflict Followed the thunder's rattle Man met man — Though whence the foe, or why there was a foe, I knew not — and there rose the clash of arms; And dying groans and garments rolled in blood Attested well tlie havoc of the strife. Anon, I found me in a circle grim Of savage figures, and with me enclosed The Lady Margaret and the Lady Emma, Who shrieked for rescue. To our rescue came Yourself, metliought. One arm around me flung, The other wielding its red weapon, — you Had almost freed me from the ghastly ring, When some one came behind — O God! — and stabbed you ! I saw you die I RODDAM. And sweeter death, Cathleen I cannot die. CATHLEEN. I woke, and hastened forth. To t)y if the frt-sh dawn-breeze would blow oflf The vapour from my mind. Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 33 RODDAM. And if it will not, Love, like the beam that gilds yon mountain mist. Shall shine it into beauty ! lSou7ids are heard. Hark ! the Crag Mutters, as if a hundred hammers plied Their strokes within its bowels. CATHLEEN (looking out). It but echoes The trampling of our horsemen who, last night, Sought at a neighbouring town the rest and food This village had not. See, they gallop on. Half screened by yon tall elms. Their white plumes toss. And their arms glitter in the sun. — But who Rides at their head ? the monkish dress he wears Contrasting oddly with the martial splendour Of the gay train behind him. RODDAM. Our new G uide ; The same of whom the Host apprised Lord Fenwick. Cathleen, we must return — by separate routes ; 34 THE OUTLAW. Act I. And, kind Cathleen, remember that our parting Must not be quite an age. It must not, sweet. CATHLEEN. And you remember — to forget my dream ! [Exit Cathleen. RODDAM (solus). There passed the Flower of Beaumont ! destined soon To bloom, I trust, amid the bowers of Roddam. [Exit. SCENE !V. An open Country with Whernside and other hills in the distance. Enter Henry on horseback in the disguise of a Monk (solus). HENRY. The holy garb of monks full oft, 'tis said. Mantles Hypocrisy; and if so, I Not much shall desecrate these sacred robes By brief assumption. Admirably they Will aid my scheme. Under this peaceful frock May ambush warlike weapons, prompt for use If comes occasion ; and this hood, close-drawn. Will shade the features which the Lady Margaret Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 35 Might recognise beneath a secular hat. — Now, Fortune, smile ! and the fair maiden, wooed By Alnwick's princely turrets, shall be won Amid the wilds of Craven. [Exit Henry. [ The Procession (consisting of Lords, Knights, ^c. Billmen, Archers, 6fc. variouslg armed, and all on horseback) now appears, headed by the Lady Margaret Percy, the Lady Emma Fenwick, and Cathleen. Henry and Roddam, meeting, come forward as if in conversation, HENRY. The Tweed, you say ? roddam. Yes. Some good two hours' ride from Tweed, is placed The mansion of my fathers. HENRY. A fine stream Old ballads say the Tweed is ; I suppose A noble river. roddam. Why, 'tis somewhat broader Than any mountain rivulet which here Obtains the name. d2 36 THE OUTLAW. Act I. HENRY. You wear not yet the belt And spur of Knighthood ? ROD DAM. For that fault thank Fate, That wrote me Man five years behind the time When arms might win them. Since the fight of Flodden, Our Scottish neighbours have not ventured aughi Beyond a straggling inroad, made in darkness. And ere the morn abandoned — no fair field In which the brave reap laurels. HENRY. True, and therefore You come to find them here. RODDAM. If laurels grew In Craven, I do think the sword I bear Quite sharp enough to crop them, Father. But I come on milder purpose. I would find The mistress. Pleasure, not the goddess. Glory, In these soft vales ; and so I deem my friends would. Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 37 HENRY. A goodly number, by the bones of Beckett, In search of Pleasure ! Can you tell, fair sir. The names of half her votaries P RODDAM. O, for these, I would, sir Monk, you heard the lay of Duncan, Earl Percy's gray-haired Minstrel, which he sung What time the wine-cup sparkled, and this jaunt To Craven was the theme of all ; for then You might have heard the catalogue, adorned With all the pomp of sound and circumstance. He sung how out of castle, hall, and bower. From Tweed to Tyne, from Cheviot to the sea, Northumberland had called her chivalry ! Then, picturing that as blown which yet was folded In the intent, his strain described the land As saddened by desertion : " Wansbeck sees Each tower she mirrors by its Chief forsaken ; The Coquet murmurs of a similar loss ; The Till laments her Grey ; the Beaumont mourns The absence of lier Copeland. Alne alone," He sung, " may sea-ward flow in silent joy, d3 38 THE OUTLAW. Act I. For slie hath still her Percy. " Ha, ha, ha, [Laughing. I've caught the Bardic measurei HENRY. Means the song That Percy slays behind ' RODDAM. It doth so, Father ; And sooth it means ; the Earl remains in Alnwick. HENRY. And trusts his sister here, and thus ? RODDAM. Sir Monk, If thou shall dare insinuate that aught Unworthy may befall the Lady Margaret, The Lady Emma, or that other Maiden, From any noble, knight, or squire thou see'st, — I give thee warning that thy saintly garb Will scarce protect thy carcass ! Here there rides Not one that would not battle to the death. Suffer all tortures — sooner than permit A single breath to taint the virgin fame Of the least noble yonder ! Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 39 HENRY. Why this heat ? I meant no slur upon your Northern virtues ! But mark me, gentle Squire ! if to return Unscathed from Craven hath in your esteem A feather's weight, — rein in your fiery temper With firmer hand. There are, and you may meet them. Who will not brook what my profession bids me Sustain with patience. RODDAM. Father, I will trust The sword of Roddam to defend its master. Whene'er th' emergence comes. Of this enough. If in my warmth offensive phrase escaped me, I pray you pardon it. I bear a soul That scorns to give an insult — least of all Where it were safely given. HENUY (aside). Ha! safely ! Ha! Soft, fool ; he judges of me as I seem. And so disarms resentment. UODDAM. Did you speak ? 40 THE OUTLAW. Act I. HENRY. I wot not that 1 did. I was but musing. And wist not that my thoughts grew into words. — But you did name, I think, a Lady Emma : Is she a daughter of the House of Percy ? RODDAM. No ; of the House of Fenwick. She is sister To the young Noble whom you see in speech With Lady Margaret. HENRY. Bosom friends, of course. The two fair maidens are ? RODDAM. As close their union As that of roses intermingling leaves On the same stalk. From infancy, their sky Hath worn one colour — sable now with clouds. Now azure all and sunny. Side by side. Their valiant Fathers oft rolled back the surge Of Border war ; and all was triumph. Death Saddened the towers of Wallington and Alnwick At the same time ; for in one week were slain The Fenwick and the Percy — one in fight Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 41 With the rude Scot, the Percy hy the rabble Led on by Archamber. Then brightly rose Fair years that bade them cease to sorrow, when. Admired, beloved, and sued for, in one sphere The bright companions moved. The Brothers, too. Prolong the friendship that allied their Fathers; And rumour says that yet a closer link Will join their future fortunes. HENRY (aside). Hell and death ! RODBAM. What moves you so, sir Monk ? HENRY. This fiery steed Chafes underneath a rider little skilled In horsemanship. — But I neglect mine office. For see, the ladies pause, in doubt, perchance. Which of yon tracks to follow. Sir, adieu. \_Exit Henry. RODDAM (solus). Beshrew me, but I do admire this Monk, He is no canting knave, and hath a spirit 42 THE OUTLAW. Act I. Which better would become a son of Mars, Than one of his calm order. {Exit. SCENE V. Plasby Wood. Norton and other Outlaws dis- covered in consultation. NORTON. We are abandoned, and perha^js — I dread To speak the word — betrayed. OMNES (ivith energy). Betrayed ! NORTON. Be calm. It is too true ; unless obedience prompt To the Chief s mandate, sooth his altered humour. And more, my friends ; of all the gentles leagued With us in revel or in guilt — so, now. It suits their mood to term it — I alone Remain to head you. Most unfit — OMNES. No ! no ! NORTON. I am, 'tis true, devotedly your friend. Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 43 Our interests are the same. In sports and perils I have participated ; in your fall — If that awaits you — I will also share. OMNES. Spoke like a man ! NORTON. Yet be not rash, my friends ! The Chief hath kindness in his nature still For the poor devils by himself misled. For proof, behold this purse, which is the bribe He offers for submission. I advise You take it on his terms. OMNES. No ! never ! never ! NORTON. Ye are brave spirits. Yet bethink you, friends ; The very act that spurns his kindness, makes His anger sure. AN OUTLAW. > His anger I defy ! If, after calling us around him — after Encouraging to deeds where Danger sat And warned us off— if, after all, he leave us ; 44 THE OUTLAW. Act I. Nor only leave, but slight; nor only slight. But hint— Disclosure ! by th' infernal fiend, I, for myself, bid him defiance— thus ! {Draws. And sooner will I dye this blade in gore — His or my own — than cringe to him, and beg With all humility he would not tell What we have done beneath his high direction! OMNES (drawing). Defiance ! NORTON. Then Defiance be the word ! — Yet hearken me this once. Consider well What that bold word imports ! The sword once bared. Ye do begin a quaiTel of which none May tell the issue. AN OUTLAW. No; themselves begin it. By thus deserting and denouncing us. THE OTHER OUTLAWS. Most true. NORTON. Would I could say 'tis false! — Since, then, In spite of every warning, ye resolve Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 45 Th' event to hazard, and to range, as erst, A band of gallant Brothers, — here stands one Who, though he sees the peril, will not shrink. If so ye will, to meet it at your head. First, swear ye will be true to me. OMNEs (kissing their Swords). We swear I NORTON. And I, as Leader, swear — But here comes one That must not know of this. [ They sheath their sivords. [Enter Fanny Ashton. A fair good day To Fanny Ashton! FANNY. And to you, fair sirs, A better than you're like to have ! NORTON. Why so P FANNY. My Father hath missed the snow-white buck, so prized By the Lord Clifford, and, suspecting barm to't. 46 THE OUTLAW. Act I. He ranges now the Forest with a band Of armed attendants. NORTON. 'Twas a noble deer ! A savoury haunch of it reposes now In Gennet's cave — to which your sire is welcome. FANNY. Ye are strange madcaps ! but I must be gone. [ Going. NORTON, No, stay ; I would admire that pretty wreath Your tasteful skill hath chosen, to set off The glossy jet of those wild ringlets, Fanny. FANNY. I meant it not to gain your admiration. NORTON. You give me needless pain, by telling me What I too truly understood before. But I can have revenge. FANNY. Pr'ythee, how so ? NORTON. By saying, in return, that all in vain You rifled dell and mountain for those sweets; Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 47 For they will wither ere you see the Youth To please whose eye you sought and plaited them. PANNY (agitated). You jest. NORTON. Indeed I do not. And besides, He follows one whose artificial gems So far outshine these simple natural ones. That I do fear he will henceforth despise them. i'ANNY. You speak to try me, now ? NORTON. By'r Lady, no ! I speak with the most virtuous intent To teach you resignation. Henry's false. FANNY. Thou'rt false to say that Henry's false, base man ! He hath a noble nature. NORTON. Right ; he hath ! And seeks a noble mate. The Cottacje 2firl, Cuthhert the Ranger's daughter, may not hope e2 48 THE OUTLAW. Act I. To be \\h final choice; and I suggest A transfer of your heart, sweet maid. FANNY. To whom ? NORTON. Would it offend you if I said — to me P TANNY. Who may the apple pluck, will scarcely turn To take the hip or wild-rasp. NORTON. But the apple Being destined for another, may give value To the inferior fruit. FANNY (taking him apart). With me, it will not. But this is idle talk. O ! tell me all. To know the certainty of what I fear, Can but be agony ! NORTON. The tale is brief. You recollect his absence when the moon Was last at full ? ' Twas then his hap to save, During a hunt, the life of Lady Margaret, Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 49 Earl Percy's stately sister ; and to lose His heart at the same time. That Northern Flower, Brought from its native scenes to bloom awhile In Craven, your most faithful Lover now Takes means to keep its fragrance to himself. FANNY. Then Fanny Ashtou is most miserable ! — He promised he would meet me by this tree. And in this hour. I flew and culled the wreath ; For he hath sworn that not the brightest Fair In Henry's court so well became her jewels, As I the flowerets of my native dell ! Then would he talk a thousand gav conceits Above the simple thought of woodland girl. Suiting their colours to my face and mind, And telling me in every wreath I made Not to omit the violet — which meant truth. And this is Henry's truth !— Ofli; off, vain flowers, [ Casting the wreath to the ground. There — wither like my hopes ! NORTON. I did not think e3 50 THE OUTLAW. Act I. That you would take it so to heart, else I Had told you it less bluntly. FANNY. O ! most sharp Your tidings were ! — The prickles on the bramble, Whence I did pluck that rose-bud, from my hand Drew forth a blood-drop, which I meant to show For Henry's pity — foolish girl ! he leaves Thy heart to bleed, and will not pity ! — O ! — NORTON, Be calm, sweet Fanny; all will yet be well. FANNY. Ay, all will yet be well, when this poor heart And this hot brain have ceased to throb ! — The turf "Will hide my frailties from the eye of shame ; And pity — I want none of it ! Tell him That Fanny Ash ton hath no memory That ever Henry lived ! [Exit Fanny. AN OUTLAW. Alas, poor girl! She will go mad. NORTON. Tush ! she hath too much passion Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 51 For that effect. It is the hurricane That clears the atmosphere. AN OUTLA-W. And tears the blossom From its green stalk, to whirl it into nothing. But for her warning ? NORTON. Did I widely err In the conclusion that we are betrayed ? Already, as you hear, the chase is up ! They might have given us time — a single day — For calm deliberation, ere they struck Th' annihilating blow. — Ha ! heard you that ? [^A whistle is heard. We are beset ! — Stand firm. [Enter Cuthbert Ashton, and followers. CUTHBERT. Soho !— At last We have them. In Lord Clifford's name I ask What make ye here ? NORTON. And in our own, we answer. 52 THE OUTLAW. .act I. It does not suit our humour to declare Our purpose — or to Clifford, or to thee. CUTHBERT. Ill-mannered churls ! but though ye veil your purpose, Mine wears no mask. Ye are my prisoners. NORTON. Yes — when our good swords fail us — not till then ! CUTHBERT. Forward, then, lads, and seize them ! NORTON. Draw — and on ! {A Battle. Cuthbert Ashton falls wounded. Norton stands over him exultingly in the centre of the Stage. The Rangers, prostrate beneath the uplifted weapons of the Outlaws, on each side form a picture. [ 53 ] THE OUTLAW. ACT II. SCENE r. The Abbexj Garden at Sawley. Enter luMiY Maii GARET and Lady Emma. XADY MARGARET. What a sweet place, my Emma ! The high Moon Plays on the rippling water — gilds the turrets Of the fair Abbey — sliecls a silvery light Upon the moistened green leaves — and makes gems Of the small dew-drops lying on the roses. lady EMMA. It is the very moonlight of Romance ! lADY MARGARET, It is so, Emma ; and methinks this Craven Is all romantic land. Its rocks and hills. Wild and majestic, set in contrast bold With vales of emerald softness, and lit up By gorgeous summer suns, or moons like this — 54 THE OUTLAW. Act II. Why, 'tis a land to dream about, as having No real existence ! LADT EMMA. So the Lady Margaret Throws the rich colouring of her fancy o'er Scenes not yet made familiar, and thence drawing One half of their enchantment. For myself, I would not give my own small brook of Wansbeck For any stream that murmurs through this land ; I do esteem old Cheviot more majestic Than yonder rugged eminences ; and — LADY MARGARET. Nay, sweet but sworn Northumbrian ! I will own All you have said, and all you meant to say, To be most true — if that you will not check My present mood by these comparisons. For, sooth to say, T love the pleasant land. And, might one dare to own it, love its people. LADY EMMA. Of whom few specimens have met your eyes Save the rude villagers that ran to gaze As our procession passed. Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 55 ' XADY MARGARET. One I have seen — What think you of our Guide ? LADY EMMA. As of a rude, Uncultured, uninformed, ungracious Monk. LADY MARGARET. Upon my Hfe, ungracious epithets ! LADY EMMA. What, marked you not his gesture, when aside He tlirew my noble Brother's hand, that proffered A liberal guerdon for the monk's brief service ? LADY MARGARET. 'Twas but a fit of absence, dearest Emma, For which he did apologise. LADY EMMA. Apologise ! He muttered something, but so sullenly, It seemed as if his heart did curse his tongue For making it. LADY MARGARET. I did not so interpret His bearing. But my Emma, you must own ' 56 THE OUTLAW. Act II. That he did paint each varied scene we passed In terras of pure and natural eloquence ? LADY EMMA. Like to some wandering Poet, whose costume Is marvellously tattered and bepatched ; With whom each crag is rugged, every hill Is picturesque, each brook a purling fountain, And every cavern gloomy or romantic ! He jjrated in most nauseating terms. LADY MARGARET. You could not think so ! Did you hear his voice ? Noted you that ? LADY EMMA. I've sometimes heard a harsher, LADY MARGARET. O ! 'tis a voice of amplest compass, Emma. Of trumpet loudness to be heard in battle By fighting thousands, it hath yet the tones Of sweetest lute to melt in Beauty's bower! LADY EMMA. In neither of which places, good my lady, 'Tis like to have much practice. Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 6T LADY MARGARET. They do err Who say that Love is blind. The lynx hath not So sharp au eye-sight. Mangre his disguise, I knew him, Emma— knew the Stranger Knight Who joined our stag-chase on the wilds of Cheviot — LADY EMMA. Amazement! Can it be ? LADY MARGARET. Who saved my life When human aid seemed hopeless — but who left The life he saved without the heart he found. For that he stole and keei)s ! LADY EMMA. 'Twere too romantic For this prosaic time ! You may mistake. LADY MARGARET. No, Fimma, no ! The very traits you marked As proofs of rudeness, but confirm, to me. The truth of Love's discovery. LADY EMMA. I remember That gallant Stranger well. His air was noble j F 58 THE OUTLAW. Act 11. His manners such as one would thence infer The breath of Courts was native to his lungs. And Princes his first play-mates! — He assumes An odd disguise to shroud his rank and name in. LADY MARGARET. Ah! that way lies a mist, which coldly falls Upon my love, and checks it in the bud ! His rank he told not; and it makes me 'shamed To speak of what I own not to myself, Save in some tender moment when Pride sleeps. And Fancy frames her visions. LADY EMMA. Splendid ones, I doubt not, where most gorgeous castles rise Like clouds of Summer's glowing atmosphere. Based U])on— nothing. Cruel man ! to leave Not e'en a name for love to feed upon. Had he declared his name, though it might b« But simi)ly Henry — LADY MARGARET. Do the files inform. And make thee, even in thy jest, ])iuphetic ? I do believe that Henry is his name I Scetu I. THE OUTLAW. 69 LADY EMMA. Indeed ! O, then the name will fairly sound In a sad ballad chanting forth the loves, The high, mysterious loves, and piteous fate Of Henry and of Margaret, sung by — lADY MARGARET. Hold! Thou endless jester. I am not just now In mirthful mood. LADY EMMA. And rather would enjoy The moonlight hour alone — to muse on Henry ! Well, be it so, I go, [Goinf/. LADY MARGARET. If go thou wilt. Remember, dearest Emma, to be mute On this discovery ! LADY EMMA. Silent as the Moon, That, like a prudent lady, hears all love-tales. And tells none. [Exit Lady Emma. LADY MARGARET (solus). Go, light-hearted maiden, go ! f2 60 THE OUTLAW. Act II. Thou Jovest, and art loved again. Thy love Is placed upon a known and noble object; While I ! — He comes ! — My heart, resume the Percy ! [Enter Henry abruptly, who kneels and throws back his hood, LADY MARGARET. Arise ! What art thou ? Speak. HENRY. A hapless wretch. If I shall have incurred thine anger, Lady, By this intrusion ; blest as the blest gods. If I obtain thy pardon ! LADY MARGARET. Strong and urgent Must be thy reasons, if they justify This freedom, taken by a man unnamed. And, save as Guide, unknown. HENRY (rising). It was not thus The Lady Margaret looked, at yon cascade Among the Cheviots, when to this poor arm 'Tvvas owing that the bright Rose of the North Was not against the sharp and pointed rock* Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 61 DasLed headlong — to exhale its fragrant life Amid the roaring whiripool ! LADY MARGARET. No ; nor thus That her Deliverer looked ! He stood that day Honoured amongst the honoured. Now he stands In strange and most inglorious contrast with His former self. Go to, thou art not He ! The Youth I mean was honourable, was noble In soul at least, and would have rather dashed him On the sharp rocks thou speakest of, than take This mean advantage of a casual deed. Which Instinct would, without a spark of Nature, Have prompted to a villain ! HENRY. Now by Heaven ! That supposition wrongs me, Lady. I Claim nothing on that happy deed's account — Presume not e'en in thought upon it — take No mean advantage thence. LADY MARGARET. What call'stthon then This rude intrusion ? What claim else hadst thoti f3 62 THE OUTLAW. Act II. On which to grouiid a fair excuse for it ? Then, too, this inonkisli dress. Disguise denotes The man that wears it to he fool or villain. Just as his aim is base or virtuous ; And which tlmie is — I ask not. HENKT. If correct That argument, it were indeed not worth The trouble of a question, Lady, — since. On either supposition, I must seem An object to be rid of. LADY MARGARET. Was the act Of self-devotedness that saved my life, A thing to be ashamed of ? to be wrapped In a Monk's garment, lest some eye should see. And recognise, and praise ? Or didst thou think That I, the rescued, was so poor of soul. That I should blush to own mv rescuer ? Why, man, the meanest serf lliat ever toiled. Had he achieved the deed, should have been welcomed As Margaret's friend ; should from mv hand have ta'en Seme I. THE OUTLAW. 63 Such meed as Gratitude may give to Worth, Though Enghiiid's proudest stood beside and saw me ! HENKY. Slight guerdon may requite a casual deed, " Which Instinct would, without a spark of Nature, Have prompted to a villain. " LADY MARGARET, Pardon me That word, sir ; it was said in hasle, and rashly. I am thy debtor — deeply — lastingly — And would repay thee ! HENKY. Percy's broad domains, With their long list of hamlet, tower, and town. Could not supply my guerdon. LADY MARGARET. No! HENRY. Unless Thy lovely name did grace the inventory ; And that one item would compensate well The absence of the others ! — Frown not. Lady ; I am a man that, if I speak at all. 64 THE OUTLAW. ^ict II. Must speak my thought — being an old man's son Who taught me this from childhood. LADY MARGARET. 'Tis a rule Well worth th' observance, so the thought be such As doth become the speaker and the hearer — Which thine at present doth not. Who art thou, Tliat darest thus presume upon my goodness ? HENRY. A madman ! having all the signs developed That mark a madman's malady — save this, That I do knoiv myself to be a madman. Yes, Lady, he that fell in love with th' moon, As classic fable tells, was sane as I, Who kneel in adoration most devout [KnefJs. To a fair being, shining in a sphere Of hopeless height above me ! LADY MARGARET. Is it so ? Then must I think my charms have made a conquest, A glorious capture, doubtless, of a heart Warmed with no vulgar tide ! But since, fair sir, I found thee in the garb of Chivalry, Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 65 And now behold thee in Religion's garb. How may I style my lover — Monk, or Knight ? HENRY. I do deserve that thou shouldst laugh at me ; Nor will thy mirth abate, when I shall tell My parentage. LADY MARGARET. I know it all, untold. Thy father in a lordly hall was bred, Thy mother in a cloister; hence thou veerest Betwixt the hood and helmet. HENRY. Hear the truth ; My sire was bred a Shepherd. LADY MARGARET. If his son Possess a Shepherd's virtues, he outshines A Baron's heir without them ! HENRY. Hem ! — My virtues, Unlike ray madness, have not yet developed Themselves by signs. My vices — less obscure — Are somewhat widely blazoned. Not a hearth 66 THE OUTLAW. Act II. In Craven, from the castle to the cot, I'hat is not vocal with ray deeds. My name WiU sl'-ll the wayward child, when that of Barghest Hath lost its spell. LADY MARGARET (alarmed). Ha ! Thou art then the Outlaw Men talk of in these wilds ! — Help ! ho, there — help ! HENRY. Fear nothing, Lady ! The great Devil's self Would dread a hotter hell for wronging thee ! Permit me to remove this — I am not — LADY MARGARET. Didst thou say /ear? Man, I am of a race That never knew the word. But I will be Freed from the degradation of thy presence ! Thou dost, it seems to me, contaminate The very air I breathe ! Didst save my life To sicken it with infamy ? Away ! HENRY. Now by a true man's soul ! I leave thee not, Till thou hast heard me out. My heart's as proud As thine is, Lady ; and— \^Enter Lord F£NT)fick. Scene I. THE OUTLAW. ^t LORD FENWICK. Ha ! what means this ? Wretch, hast thou ventured insult ? Hast thou dared — HENRY. When I shall come to thy confessional, I may esteem thy questions worth an answer; Till then I deign none. LORD FENWICK. Then, my surly INIonk, Thy frock had need be changed to mailed vest. Thy cowl to cap of steel; for, by St Paul, Unless thy body is betaken hence. And instantly— thy Order shall not save thee! HENRY (tearing off his frock and hood). I ask it not. Behold nie, boastful Chief, Armed to thy wish, and ready at thy word. To prove I trust to nothing but my blade For my protection ! \_Both draw. LADY MARGARET (stepping between ihem). Hold! — f/o Fenwlck) My Lord, I beg This matter may be left to me. — W hate'er That man's design — scarce can T deem it evil — For one good deed by him achieved erewhile, 68 THE OUTLAW. Act II. I owe him much ; and he is not my friend Who seeketh now his injury. LORD FENWICK. Enough. — (to Henry) Protected by this Lady's interference, Unquestioned go ; though one disguise thrown off Leaves thee in mystery still. HrNRY, When next we meet — And meet we shall where none can interpose Between us — thou innyst learn the mystery. In the keen gliumier of encountfring .steel! {Exeuni Henry at one side, and Lady Margaret and Lord Fenwick at the other. SCENE 11. The Interior of Cufhbert the Ranger's cottage. CuTHBERT is discovered lying on a Longsettle, with bandages on his head and arm. His Wife is busied about the house. CUTHBERT (endeavouring to raise himself). Peace, woman, pr'ythee peace! I'll not have patience ! Scene 11. THE OUTLAW. 69 I tell thee Patience is a fool, as thou art. Will Patience heal this sword-gash ^ Will it knit The severed sinews, and re-string my arm. As it was Strang this morning ? If it wont, Of what avail is it ? WIFE. Good Father Peter Would sweetly show thee — CUTHBERT. Woman, hold thy tongue ! Is Father Peter wounded ? What knows he Of the keen pain — the foul fiend take the pain ! I heed not that. But to be pinioned here ! To be laid up like a disabled hound Gored by a stag at bay ! — A murrain seize The skulking scoundrels! — Where is Fanny, wife ^ WIFE. Poor Fanny ! ' CUTHBERT (mimicking her). Ay, poor Fanny ! — Why, an owl Might say as much. I ask thee, woman, where Fanny, thy daughter, is ? Dost thou not hear ? TO THE OUTLAW. Act II. WIFE. Poor Fanny ! CUTHBERT. Still, poor Fanny! — Thou hast lost, Methinks, the little sense that thou wast born with. Canst thou not answer me ? WIFE. Dear Cuthbert, be A little patient. Give me linie to answer. CUTHBEKT. Time! Is the tale so long? But take thy time; For, like a restive hunter, thou wilt stand. Let the vexed rider spur. WIFE. At morning-tide She left the cottage, blithesome as a fairy. And garlanded like — CUTHBERT. Like a Christmas mummer. O ye are idiots both — she for her pride. And thou for thy abetment of it. Well ? WIFE. She came again at noon, her eyes in tears. Scene II. THE OUTLAW. 71 Her fair cheek white as any lily leaf. And her long hair unbraided — CUTHBERT. A spiked pit Receive his living carcass, that dares wrong A hair of Fanny's forehead ! — My poor girl ! Through all her playful life, she never said A harsh woi'd to her Father. — Did she not Acquaint thee, woman, who the villains were That had misused her ^ WIFE. Meek as any lamb, She nothing did but weep, and sing of Henry — CUTHBERT. Sing ? Weep and sing ? The woman's mad ! WIFE. No, Cuthbert, But I do fear for her ! She looked so wild When she went out, and O ! she still is out. Although the moon's an hour above the Fell ! CUTHBERT. That is her step! I know it. 'Tis as light As the young roe's ! IE titer Fanny. g2 72 THE OUTLAW. Act 11. Dear Fanny, wherefore this ? Didst thou not know thy father had been wounded ? FANNY (untying a kerchief). Ay, they will kill us all — but I have here A charm to foil their witchcraft ! These are plants Gathered in moonshine. I forget their names — But Henry knows them, and will tell me them. Poor Henry ! I am sure he is unhappy ! — But that's not it. CUTHBERT. What's Henry to thy father ? What dost thou mean, my Fanny ? FANNY. Nothing — nothing. WIFE. Question her not. It pains her. Dearest Fanny — FANNY. Dearest! — "lis a sweet word, but there's a sting in*t. There was a bee i'th' blossom that I clutched, And O ! I bleed— bleed— bleed. WIFE. Let me bind up Thy hair, my daughter ; it is such a sight. Scene II. THE OUTLAW. 73 FANNY. Mother, 'tis black and bonny, and will glisten In the fair morning sun, and I will tie it About his neck, and fasten him — Ha ! ha ! {^Laughing. The stag is in the toils pitched by the hind — Seize on him. Foresters ! — But he is strong. And, free and fetterless, darts up the hill ! CUTHBERT. O my poor child ! my child ! WIFE. Speak to us, Fanny, As thou hast ever done. I am thy mother — FAXNT. Dost think I know thee not ? Thou art my mother. There is a strange mist here ; [Putting her hand to her eyes. but yet I see thee. And thee, too, father. CUTHBERT. Blessed be thy name, O God ! my daughter is herself again ! WIFE (brings a chair and places fanny in it). Sit, Fanny, sit. Thy stomach, love, is empty, g3 74 THE OUTLAW. Act II. And hence these air-bred fancies. I will bring A little pasty and a little milk. Bestir thee, Cuthbert — O ! I wander too; One sorrow drives another out. — My child. This is new milk. The cream, see, just begins To yellow, o'er the surface. Drink, my dear. [Fanny, in taking it, spills a little on her garment. Mind it not, love, 'twill wash again. i-'ANNT (setting down the milk). They dress The dead in unsoiled white. Is not Death proud To deck him like a Bride ? 'Tis a cold feast, though, The worms the revellers. WIFE. Banish, dearest love, These gloomy thoughts. To-morrow is, thou knowest. The Rush-bearing of Kirkby Malhaiidale, Where I have seen thee merry. Thou shalt go. FANNT. Mirth for the hostel, garlands for the church. And rushes for the dead. The garlands die, . And the mirth's mute ; but evermore the dead Lie snug beneath the rushes — so that they Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 75 Have still the best of it.— Why dost thou weep ? I had forgot — thou weepest for my father ; And I will join thee— fs/te kneels beside him) Father, thou art ill ; A barbed arrow gives a deadly wound ! CUTHBERT. My dear, 'twas not an arrow, but a sword. FANNY (starting up). I say it was an arrow ! and I know A leech that well can cure thee. He will not Fly from my father too. FU find him soon Where the moon shines into the greenwood's depth To woo the pale white roses ! \^As Fanny attempts to rush out, her Mother seizes her; Cdthbert, by a painful effort, gets upon his feet, but falls before he reaches them ; and, finally, Fanny dashes her Mother aside, and Exit. SCE9ME l\L The Abbey Garden at Sawley. Enter, from opposite sides, RoDDAM and Cathleen. RODDAM. Cathleen> Fm doubly glad — glad to escape 76 THE OUTLAW. Act II. From all the stir and revelry within. And glad to meet with you. CATHLEEN. I, too, rejoice To make a brief escape from sighs and tears. RODDAM. From sighs and tears ! What mean you, sweet Cathleen ? CATHLEEN. Some matter of deejD import, and unmeet For ear that's less than noble, passes now Between the Ladies in their secret chamber. Which wets the Percy's cheek, and stamps concern Upon the Fenwick's brow. RODDAM. A mystery I CATHLEEN. Which Time may solve or not, as best he likes ; I pry not into it. RODDAM. It will not change Our purposed route, I hope ? CATHLEEN. No ; that is fixed. Scene III. THE OUTLAW. T7 We visit some wild scenes of lake and crag. That bear the liquid name of Malhamdale. RODDAM. I'm glad of it; I would not waste my time In these dull walls. CATHLEEN. Dull ! spoke you not just now Of revelry ? RODDAM. O, Revelry hath ta'en Devotion's seat, and pranks it gloriously — Twere a rich scene for eye that's fond of such. At one end of the lone; Refectory Sits the Lord Abbot, jovial as the chief Of some proud hunting-feast. On either hand, Our knights and nobles quaff the grape's high juice. And high affairs discuss. Transverse from these. An ample board extends its crowded length, Where page and groom, where monk and sacristan, , On humbler cheer regale. Apart from all, A choir of Minstrels touch the harp, or sing. At every pause of revelry. 78 THE OUTLAW. Act II. CATHLEEN. All this. And Roddam talk of diilness ! RODDAM. O Cathleen, Where thou art not, ' tis dull ; and, in my mind. The merrier the duller. CATHLEEN. That's a riddle. RODDAM. Which Love may soon expound. From yonder crowd My spirit fled to thee, and left me set Still as the sculptured Saint upon the wall. That with the same cold and unaltered mien Looks down upon the banquet. CATHLEEN. And when you Sat thus, in fixed abstraction, what might be The business of your spirit ? RODDAM. Said I not It was with thee ? It was ; and then it flew But, mind, it bore thee with it — to a scene Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 79 Thou knowest well ! Tower, wood, and glen, at hand. And Cheviot in the distance. CATHLEEN. That description Can suit but Roddam with its woodland dell. ROD DAM. Right. On the dell's green verge arose a Bower, Moss-lined, and roofed with heather. There we sat. While into it looked the mild setting sun. And all the music of the S}3ring waked round it ! CATHLEEN. ' Twas a sweet vision ! RODDAM. Yes ; but, love, I had A previous one, which gave propriety To it — a vision of a little Church On Beaumont Side, where thou and I did join. With talisnianic ring, the magic chain, Viewless but felt, connecting heart with heart. Made by the artist— I.ovi-. ! CATIII.EEN. Alas, my Roddam — What have I said ! 80 THE OUTLAW. Act 11. RODDAM. What thou shoulclst ever say. My Roddam ! Never sounded in mine ear My name so sweetly. Call me so all night, And I will listen till the morning break. And ask thee still to say it ! CATHLEEN. Doubting not Thy love and faith, I will not call it back; Though it might seem too — BODDAM. Forward) thou wouldst say ; But dream not that T think it so, Cathleen. 1 marked with rapture kindness in thine eye, Long ere thy tongue confessed it. But it seemed The exclamation had a tone of sadness, As well as of affection in it; why Was this, Cathleen ? CATHLEEN. I heard thy sunny visions, And thought how different mine were. Thou wilt smile To hear that my strange dream of yesternight Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 81 Still hangs upon ray spirits, like an omen Of some unguessed calamity. KODDAM. Come, love ; We will have nothing sad to mar the pleasure Of this bright hour. I know a freer walk Beside yon river. Let us thither, love ! Lost in a brief delusion, we shall fancy We stray— as wont — on Beaumont's pastoral banks. And that the murmurs of this southern stream Are those of Beaumont o'er her pebbled bed ! CATHLEEN (siligs). Sweet Beaumont Side, and Beaumont Stream ! Ye come to me in visions clear, And ever as ye were, ye seem — Change cannot touch a scene so dear. On Hoseden heights for ever bloom The flowers that lure the mountain bee ! By Beaumont Side the yellow broom For ever waves — in light — to me ! Sweet Beaumont Side, and Beaumont Stream I There is so much of gloom and ill, H 82 THE OUTLAW. Act II. That it is soothing thus to dream Earth bears one spot of sunshine still ; To feel that while my hopes decline. And joys from life's dim waste depart. One bright illusion — yet — is mine. One fadeless Eden of the Heart ! \^Exeunt. [ 83 ] THE OUTLAW. ACT III. SCENE I. A Wood. Henry is discovered leaning against a tree in a musing posture. To him enter D'ESTON. d'eston. I ask not how you've sped. HENRY. No need to ask. If you can read th' inscription on my brow. Traced there like Cain's. d'eston. St Mary ! can it be That the bold Outlaw droops ? henry. O damn that word! Deeply I suffer for that folly now. An old man murdered, and his daughter mad ; h2 84 THE OUTLAW. Act III. His daughter, beauteous once as forest flower, And innocent, and happy — but for me ! My father's grief for his degraded name, Should these things reach him. — Now, what think you, D'Eston, Of this brief catalogue ? Bears it not proof That Retribution tracks the foot of Vice With more than blood-hound certainty ? d'eston. You paint it With colours far too dark. I grieve for Cuthbert, And for his woodland blossom ; but reflect. You slew him not — if he indeed is slain; And Fanny's fate is but one sad result Of ill-matched love. Your father's name will suffer Slight degradation from the venial frolics — HENRY. Now by the gods I you do offend me, D'Eston. Frolics with such effects, are aught but venial. My curse on Norton ! He shall answer yet For confidence abused, — Heavens ! I am now The Puppet, not the Arbiter, of fortune. Forced, by invisible springs, to move and look Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 86 As what I am not! — List to me. Last night I saw the lady of my soul ! O D'Eston, She stood in moonlight, as a seraph stands In tir love of Heaven ! — Ere I should urge my suit, I wished to reconnoitre the defences. To see if there were any point whereat Assault might be effective. ' Mid the conflict Of our sharp wits, I chanced, half jestingly, To hint at my wild fame; when — could you think it P She, though her sojourn here hath been so brief. Had learnt the history, and shrieked aloud — "Thou art the Outlaw!" — At the sound rushed out Lord Fenwick — so they style him — who, 'tis said, Aspires to win her love. Gods ! but for her, I would, that hour, have taught him humbler views\ But a bright time is coming. d'eston. Am I then To understand you meditate revenge ? HENRY. Revenge ? Thou givest it so foul a name. But we encumber each the other's path. And one had better vanish. Therefore goes h3 86 THE OUTLAW. Act III. My message to him, which his gallantry Dares not neglect. We meet to-day by Gordale — d'estox. To gore each other, like irrational brutes ! Harry, forgive the pmi and simile. But I will see this Fenwick. HENRY. Not for worlds ! No — not for Heaven ! One syllable disclosed, And thou and I are foes for ever! — Come; The sun is bright on Malhamdale. Away ! [Exeunl. SCES^JE 11. Gennet's Cave in front. A small ivaterfall on the right. Norton, in the black gown of a Friar, before the entrance of the Cave. NORTON (rolus). The plot works bravely ! Cuthbert's wounds and woes. Fixed upon him, have given a deeper stain To his bluiTed reputation. Other deeds. Achieved to-day, may crown his infamy, And turn her love to loathing. By the fiends ! Scene II. THE OUTLAW. S7 That were the top of scheming. — But suppose They met ? — A meeting would bring explanation ; And that would show my treachery. — Be it mine To counteract this ! [ Whistles. Ho! my merry-men — [Calling. Ye must give readier answer wlien that signal Is heard in Gordale. [The Outlaws rush, by two and two, from the Cave, and arrange themselves in order for action, — each man with his hand on his Sword-hilt. NORTON. This will do. — Now mark, Your revels may be merry, but not long. Cool heads make steady hands. Be like the hare, That never, e'en in slumber, shuts her eyes; And when your game presents, be like the tiger, That makes no second spring ! — I am advised The cavalcade is near, and wanting him Whom ve might shrink to meet. I shall find means To join it, and to note their strength. Be sure I will not risk your lives in vain encounter. Couch in the copse-wood till ye hear my whistle. 88 THE OUTLAW. Act III. And let the sound assure you of the spoils That guerdon valour when the fight is won ! Meantime, hid Gennet make her fairy cave Ready for the fair captive. {Exit Nortox. [ The Outlaws re-enter the Cave, and the Scene shuts. SCENE III. The Church and Burial-ground of Kirkby-Mal- HAMDALE. Fanny Ashton is discovered leaning on a tomb, with a bundle of rushes and a garland on a stone beside her. f ANNY (singing). The maiden to the greenwood flew, All while the moon was shining. And there she spied her knight so true Against a tree rechnincf. He seized her hand, that gallant proud. Where shadowy moonbeams quiver. And by the Queen of Night he vowed To love that maid for ever. [Speaks, He meant not as he said, though. He was false. Or else the ballad is. Soft ! it is here — [ Sings. Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 89 The maid again to greenwood flew, All while the moon was shining ; But there she spied no lover true Against the tree reclining. He came no more, that gallant proud, Where shadowy moonbeams quiver ; But, mindless of the vow he vowed, He left that maid for ever ! [Speaks. I knew 'twas so. He ne'er will come again. And she may weep. 'Twill ease her head to weep. I would that I had tears ! I had them once — But this hot sun hath scorched them up. [Looks round. ' Tis strange ! ' Tis very strange. — Is Fanny Ashton, then. The only Rush-hearer '' They'll come anon. [Pausing. I hate these tombs. They are so dark within. And press upon the dead so ! — IMine shall be A common grave, with daisies on the turf; Where dew-drops lie, and sunbeams love to shine — But none shall tread upon it — none — but He ! Yes, he shall come, and pluck the daisy flower, 90 THE OUTLAW. Mt III. And I shall hear him ! — never— never— never ! — Hark ! there is music. [A procession of youths and maidens bearing rushes and garlands, and accompanied with music, ar- rives at the Churchyard gate. The villagers, singly or in pairs, begin to carry their bundles into the Church. A young man, seeing Fanny stops, YOUNG MAN. Glad to see thee, Fanny, At Kirkby Rush-bearing. But wherefore not Go with us, to assist in gathering flowers. And pulling rushes ? Thou wast always proud. FANNY. Proud ! show me aught that's not. Those flowers are proud To feel the breeze fan, and the sunbeam kiss them . But they were prouder ere thy rude hand cropped them — ' Twas cruel in thee that ! YOUNG MAN. I understand not Thy meaning, Fanny. Thou wast cruel, then. To crop that garland lying there. Sceru! HI. THE OUTLAW. ' 91 FANNY (mournfully). E'en so ! YOUNG MAN. Thou art not well, I think ? FANNY. Tlion thinkest so ? Thy thought's not worth a rush. Begone ! YOUNG MAN (aside). By Jings, The lass is crazed. {Exit, and enter a Girl. GIRL. O, Fanny Ash ton come, To help to strew the Church 'gainst winter tide ! With me, then, Fanny. Thine's the prettiest wreath That I have yet beheld. Where didst thou find it ? FANNY. Thou knowest not the place ? But / do — well ! — O ! I beseech you, go not near it ! There The snake breeds, and the toad, the as]i, and all The reptiles that wiih siing or venom take The blood from out llie cheek, and crowd the brain With jarring fancies ! — O ! I beg you, go not ! 92 THE OUTLAW. Act III. GiKL (aside). Her looks and words are strange and frigbtful ! (to her) Well, I will not go, then. Wilt thou bear with me ? FANNY (sharply). No. [Exit Girl, and enter Young Man and Young Woman. young man. It shall be so, now. I'll dance with none, If I mayn't dance with thee : YOUNG WOMAN. Thou'lt break thy word, If Sally Airton comes. YOUNG MAN. 'Tis ever so ! ' Tis always Sally Airton ! I think thee A prettier girl, by half. Now, shall I be Thy partner for the night ? YOUNG WOMAN. Now that's well thought of! It might be vexing Sally, to engage Thyself for longer time. Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 93 YOUNG MAN. For that, sweet teazer, I'll bind myself for ever, and thou wilt. By oath upon llie mass-book. FANNY. Swear not, churl ! Thou'lt break thy vow e'en as tliy betters do. And she will weep — like me. Poor girls have hearts, man. And they can feel! Dost think they cannot, Henry ? That no kind breast can throb, save under satin. Where it stirs gem and jewel as it heaves ? — Away ! Why gaze ye thus ? YOUNG MAN. We wait to have Thy company. FANNY. Thou liest ! for the eye Of heedless, incommunicative bird Is hardly welcome in a true-love bower Where lovers sit ! But I will nothinu; tell — Why should / tell, when Tiiiit; will? — Ay, the blast Will tear thee, maiden, from the stem thou lovest. 94 THE OUTLAW. Act III. And fling thee to the pity of the rain. Whose tears will bleach thy red I YOUNG WOMAN (to him). Let's go. She's mad. YOUNG MAN. Poor girl ! I pity her. (to Fanny) Thou wilt not go, then ? FANNY. I will; for I perceive thon'rt sad, and I Am very sad — indeed I am. Go on. [S/te takes up her bundle and chaplet in a languid manner, and Exit with the villagers. [Enter First Young Man. YOUNG man (solus). I'm sure she's crazed. She would not else have talked So like a player-girl. By Jings ! to blame me For plucking senseless flowers, and then to wave me With such an air — thus. [Enter Villagers. FIRST VILLAGER. Someihing's wrong, no doubt. O sirs, we lillle know what coming days May bring to each of us ! Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 96 SECOND VILLAGER. The most unlikely Are sometimes seized as she is. Well, may God Have mercy on the spirit He haih bruised ! YOUNG MAN. It comes of pride. I never knew a girl Ape the high airs of folk above her rank. But she got humbled. FIRST VILLAGER. O, thou bearest spite. Because at our last Rush-bearing, she chose Another youth — not thee— to be set home by. YOUNG MAN. And worthy choice she made ! A Fly-by th '-sky „ Whom no one knew — not e'en herself, perhaps — With gevv gaws glittering underneath his cloak. FIRST VILLAGER. St Mary ! what is here ? A luindi-ed horse Are clattering down the brow !— And see, they stop — Dismount — and come towards us ! YOUNG MAN. By Jings ! I'm off. \_Exit Young Man, followed by ike Villagers. i2 96 THE OUTLAW. Act III. {Enter Ladies Margaret and Emma, with Cath- ie en, who ivalk slowly across the Stage — th^ Rush-bearers continuing their work. LADY MARGARET. A pleasing scene ! one that would suit Arcadia, When it was in the pink of simple usage. lADY EMMA. I did not think Rusticity imhued With so much taste. LADY MARGARET. O, Nature is the same In high and low ; and in some instances I deem the low our masters. Their displays Are not o'erlaid with pomp, their mirth not checked By ceremony. — Would I were a cot-maid ! She feels no sorrows, or she finds such play As this, a compensation for them all. {Exeunt. Scene IV. THE OUl'LAW. 97 SCENE IV- The Interior of the Church, The Villagers strew- ing the floor. Fanny Ashton toandering idly about, and singing snatches of tunes. A VILLAGER. Hush, Fanny. 'Tis the Church, and work-day tunes Are unbecoming. FANNY. Would'st have something else ? I knew an old hymn once. Hark ! this is it — [Sings. Am I a flower ? My sky is gloom, And the cold rain-drop chills my bloom; Bullet thy Spirit blow — and see ! Sun-light and warmth return to me. [Enter Ladies. Am I a lamb ? My wool retains Of sin and guilt the crimson stains ; But flow, sweet streams, from Jesu flow ! And I am white as mountain snow. lady MARGARET. A most sweet voice ! i3 98 THE OUTLAW. Act III. FANNY. So Henry used to say; But his was sweeter when he said it. O ! My love's voice is as mellow as a bird's, When it sings in the forest all alone. And sad hearts listen ! \_She busies herself in stretving. LADY MARGARET. What a lovely creature! And to be thus ! See, Emma, how deceived May be our judgments. I but now did envy The bliss of cot-maids ! — \^To a strewer. Dost thou know, good girl, Who that poor maiden is ? GIKL. So please you, she Is the old Ranger's daughter ; Cuthbert Ashton Her father is called ; Lord Clifford's keeper, who Hath Lodge in Flashy forest. LADY MAaOARET. She hath not Been always thus ? Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 99 GIUL. 'Tis not a week, since I Beheld her at her father's, hlilhe and blooming. LADY MAKGARET. And knowest thou not the cause of this sad change ? GIUL. No; but I fancy love, ma'am — love and grief. 'Tis said tb.at she was courted by a man Known but to her — one of the Outlaws, ma'am — And he hath killed her father. LADY MARGARET. Gracious Heaven ! PANNY (to LADY MARGARETJ. 'Tis false ! 'tis false ! Believe me, it is false ! Dost thou know Henry ? Trust me, he would not Set foot upon a snail ! His pride would shun Its crawling filth, his pity spare its life For the next suimy shower ! LADY UMiGAniLT (ajitated). And who is Henry ? PANNY. Wouldst find the secret ? Find it, then. I know. But will not tell thee. Thou art proud and (liir— 100 THE OUTLAW. ^ct III. They told me looks and jewels such as thine. Have wiled my Henry from me ; hut 'tis false. Thou couldst not have the heart ! I know thou couldst not. God bless you ! I shall find my Henry still. [Sings. The Outlaw leads a merry life Under the greenwood tree — [Exit Fanny. LADY EMMA. Ha ! heard you that ? LADY MARGARET. O ! I have heard enough To tell me I am wretched. LADY EMMA. Rather say, There was a precipice concealed by fogs. To whose dread brink your steps were hastening ; But Providence hath rolled the glooms away, And you have seen the peril, and may pause! LADY MARGARET. True. Yet this solving of a painful doubt Is trial to the heart ! [Exeunt. Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 101 SCEI^SE V. Green in front of the Inn. The old Villagers seated on benches around, and the young dancing. During the dance Lords Fenwick, Gkey, &c., appear on the Stage. LORD FENWICK. Youth, health, and mirth; light limbs, cinrl lighter hearts ; What lack these to be happy ? LOUD GREY. Ask th3 Host. Yonder, with rosy face and rounded front. He bears a frothing pot. LORD FENWICK. I understand you. The Host would say — more liquor; and perchance A few broad-pieces to procure them that. Were no unwelcome donative. Host, ho ! [Calling. [The Host comes forward, and receives money from two or three of the Party. LOUD FENWICK. Take these, ray friend, and let the villagers 102 THE OUTLAW. Act III. Rejoice therewith, till our return from Gordale ; When, should the contribution be too scant. We may augment it. HOST. Thanks, ye generous strangers. LORD GREY. It strikes me, too, that our rude knaves had rather Stay here and join the sport, than wend with us To gaze on crag and brushwood. LORD FENWICK. Be it so; If that they will not brawl with these good peasants. HOST. There bears a dark cloud over Gennet's gill. And the West blackens o'er the fell. These signs. Amid our hills, portend no distant storm. If Gordale is your aim, 'twere best ye reach it Ere the day change. LORD FENWICK. We thank thee, sir. A Guide Is all we want to 'vail us of thy counsel. HOST. And that is soon supplied. Here comes a man. Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 103 One of a holy Brotherhood, whose cell Is near this place. LORD FENWicK ((/lancing at grey^. 1 relish not conductors Drawn from a sacred Order. But go on. HOST. He weeps and wanders, mid the glooms of Gordale, From morn till eve. What hrings him now, I wot not; Unless, as I suspect, it be to preach The Rush-bearers a sermon on the sin Of passing time so happily- As lief Would I see aught as him. LOUD FENWICK (smiling). And so wouldstmake A transfer of his services to us ? W'ell, I like candour, friend, and will remove This marrer of enjoyment — if he list. [Enter a Messenger. MESSENGF.R (sliowing a letter). This for the Lord of Fcnwick. LORD FENWICK. I am he. 104 THE OUTLAW. Act 111. MESSENGER. I wait reply. LORD FENVVICK. A moment, lords, excuse me. \^ReaAt. Go, tell the writer I will meet him — no; Myself will bear my answer. Wait apart. [7*0 Messenger. My lords, a slight affair demands me hence. Nay, question not — a trifle — I will join Your train again ere long. {To Messenger. Lead on , my friend. {Exit Lord Fenwick {Enter Norton. LORD GRi:y (to NORTON^. Father, we would see Gordale. We are strangers, And may, perhaps, avail us of that name To ask the guidance of so good a man As we have heard thou art. {Enter Ladies. NORTON. Would 1 could teach you. When Gordale opes his chasm, to elevate Your minds from the low pleasures of base sense. To Him whose fiat scooped it, or wliose earthquake Scene VI. THE OUTLAW. 105 Rent its huge cliffs asunder, to attract The gaze of ages ! LORD GREY (smU'ing). Who knows hut we may Be diligent pupils under such a tutor ? The ladies are devout. So lead, good Father. \^As the strangers are quitting the stage, the Scene shuts. SCENE VI. A Landscape. Enter Lord Grey and Roddam. LORD GREY. 1 think thou'rt prudent. roddam. For that flattering thought I stand your lordship's dehtor. LORD GREY. Did you note The Monk, our former Guide ? RODDAM. I did, and deemed His manner most unlike the garb he wore. LORD GREY. There guessed you rightly. Yet you could not dream K 106 THE OUTLAW. Act III. That in such jseaceful garb there stood disguised A Bandit leader ? RODDAM. No; in sooth, I could not! LORD GREY. Yet SO it is. At least so fame reports it. Now mark me, Fenwick hath received from him — We cannot doubt the source — a message, which — We doubt as little — is a hostile one. Too brave to weigh the risk of a rencounter With one who laughs at honour and at law. Lord Fenwick gives the meeting he demands. RODDAM. And yi>u are here to tell it ! You — his friend — Are calmly talking of his risk, while he Dies, it may be, amid a horde of villains ! — My horse there ! LORD GREY. Honour to the noble soul That speaks in thee ! My friend is not alone. Swinburne and Ridley, Orde and Lilburn follow To vindicate the right. I but delay To bid you lead the cavalcade to Malhain ; Scene VII. THE OUTLAW. 107 And ask you, should the ladies mark our absence, To find such fair excuse as may allay Their apprehensions. RODDAM. That safe pest be his. Who fears to look on danger ! I'll with you. LORD GREY. Bethink thee, one fair maid may lack protection. RODDAM. If you mean insult, ray good Lord of Wark — LORD GREY. I half repent my choice. I deemed thee prudent. And still will deem thee so — unless thy folly Engross one moment further of a time Too precious to be wasted. — Fare thee well. {^Exeunt. SCEI^E Vil. A Glen. Henry is discovered beside an ancient Oak. To him enter Lord Fenwick. LORD FENWICK. In ignorance of what thou art — in doubt Whether I meet a man entitled to Receive from me this courtesy, or one k2 108 THE OUTLAW. Act 111. That hath no claim to it — behold me here. In answer to your missive. HENRY. You have done What I expected, lord ; and thus far, therefore. Will I, at present, satisfy your doubt. Believe that, if I fall, you will have shed Blood precious as your own. If fate reverse The issue, it may help to sooth your death-pang. To think you perish by no vulgar brand. LORD FENWICK. This is evasion, and would clear me, did I shun the combat. HENRY. If your northern courage Shrinks as it nears the hazard — be it so. LORD FENWICK. My courage hath enabled me, ere this. To smile at hazard equal — take my word — To that which threatens now. But we are men. And should be rational ; nor draw the sword Without good cause. Scene VI I. THE OUTLAW. 109 HENRY. Agreed. My cause is good — Your last night's words of insult. LORD FENWICK. But those words. Addressed to one who— as I thought— had offered Outrage to her that claims ray guardianship. Were meaningless — since outrage there was none ; Inapplicable — therefore inoffensive. HENRY. Another valid reason why your sword Should keep its scabbard 1 LORD FENWICK. From another lip, Or at another time, I had not brooked That haughty sneer. Nor would I now, but that I would not prosecute a baseless quarrel ; And such is ours — if something yet unnamed Stir not your blood. HENRY. Somewhat there is, perchance. Which I would have concealed, did not I find Your valour needs a spur. — Nay, hear it noiv. k3 110 THE OUTLAW. Act III. I will be brief. The Lady Margaret claims. You say, your guardianship ? LORD FENWICK. And proudly say it. HENRY. No doubt. But what if I should say that you , No longer shall keep watch, as dragon-guard, On that Hesperian fruit ? LORD FENWICK. Why, then I should But laugh at thy most impotent presumption ! HENRY (aside). At last the metal rings! — [to him) Thou wilt not, then, Resign thy bold pretensions to that lady ? LORD FENWICK (aside). Sits the wind there ? — (aloud) Hadst thou that question put Less haughtily, I might have deigned reply By a plain statement. But thus bullied, I For answer tell thee — Never I Right in you, Or any one, but most of all in you, Upon me such condition to impose, I do deny, repel, and treat with scorn ! Scene VII. THE OUTLAW. Ill HENRY. Then you reject the only chance of peace. I pray you, ponder. LORD FENWICK. Palsied be my tongue. When it seeks peace on terms \Yhich Honour spurns ! And blasted be my fame, if — having come Alone to give thee, what thou couldst not hope, The chance of losing by a true man's brand The felon life predestined to the halter — I let thee now escape me unchastised ! HENRY. That speech wants little to be eloquent, Except one item of some moment — tnith. Thou come alone P Look yonder, and confess The falsehood of the vaunt. By heaven ! thy prudence Equals, my lord, thy valour — or transcends it. [Enter Grey, Swinburne, Orde, &c. But let them come. [Drmving) Here, like this moun- tain oak, I bide the fury of the storm. Come on ! Come one by one — I ask no favour else — And tliou the first ! [To Lord Fenwick. 112 THE OUTLAW. Act III. LORD FEN WICK (to his Friends). For this inopportune. Though well-intentioned zeal, I thank you not. Back — if you love me ! Back — unless you deem me The craven which this braggart says I am ! HENRY. Proclaim me braggart when my deeds belie The promise of my words. LORD GREY. ■ And him a craven On the same terms. But hear ! A high-born man. Whose life hath public value, is not called To risk it in a brawl with one whose life Must be of less — may be of no concern. And therefore have we come — not to o'erpower A single warrior — not to interpose, Unwarrior-like, between you ; but to learn, Ere blow be struck, whether our friend is matched With fair antagonist. Of that assured. Let triumph gild the braver ! LORD FENWICK. Stop, my friends. Too much hath passed between us, now to plead Scene VII. THE OUTLAW. 113 That point of custom. Be he what he may — Noble or ignoble — or high or low — True man or robber — he shall have his wish. No more, as ye are friends ! [.4 single combat, in which Lord Fenwick's Sword is forced out of his hand by Henry. HENRY. Demand ihy life. LOUD FENWICK. Never ! My name in arms is now eclipsed ; My life is worthless. Take it. HENRY. Foul befall The man that strikes the vanquished I — No, no, live. But bar my way no more. — Now for the next — LORD GREY. Your true nobility of soul, brave Stranger, Disarms us all. To that, and not to any Less lofty motive, do we beg you give Our wish for peace — a wish, you may believe. Not usual in a Borderer. 114 THE OUTLAW. Act III. HENRY. I believe it; And when we meet again, there may be less Of mystery, more of pleasure. Fare ye well. \^Exeunt. [ 115 ] THE OUTLA ACT IV. SCENE I. GoRDALE — a tremendons mountain chasm. Enter RoDDAM and Cathleen. CATHLEEN. O RoDDAM ! why so rash ? Yet, yet return : Some dreaci thing is about to happen ! Stay — Turn not that rock, but listen ! Told I not Of dell that narrowed, and at last closed in ? And told I not of thunder? Are you mad ! The dell is narrowed to a point ; o'erhead. The clouds have veiled the sun ; and if these clouds l?ear not a storm within their lurid halls, Xo sky will henceforth thunder ! Let us back ! RODDAM. And we were fools, my love, to turn us back Upon such ground as the coincidence Of a dark dingle with a maiden's dream. 116 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. On, my Cathleen ; nor fear that harra can come To Roddam or to thee. For thy sweet sake Yon clouds shall pass away, and heaven he blue As that fair eye of thine, where love — insphered — Shines through its tear as shines, the western star Through the fine dews of Eve ! [They enter the chasm. Heavens ! what a sight. CATHLEEN. O God ! the very scenery of my dream ! RODDAM. Why then thy dream was highly honom'ed, love ; For England hath no nobler scene than this. [Enter Ladies Margaret and Emma, with Nor- ton and part of the Procession, on foot. AH gaze in silence. NORTON. Your silence moves no wonder. Gordale hath. In its first burst of unexpected grandeur, A spell to awe the soul, and chain the tongue. How great its Maker then ! lady MARGARET. Now this repays The toil of our long journey ! — Emma, look ! Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 117 I^ook, Cathleen, Roddam!— It might seem a tower Whose architects were giants, did yon stream Mar not the fancy. RODDAM. Or a cavern hewn From out the solid rock by hand of genii ! LADY EMMA. Or fairy palace, by enchantment raised. To hold the elfin court in ! LADY MARGARET. ' Tis a scene Too stern and gloomy for those gentle beings, That love the green dell and the moonlight ring. I like my first impression. — Whence the stones That cumber the wide floor ? NORTON. These scattered fragments Have fallen, Lady, from the toppling cliffs, Detached by slow decay — perchance by lightning — And piled through silent ages. Fear not, gentles; Beneath the bend of this far-slanting rock, We stand exempt from peril — nothing less 118 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. Than some discourteous eartliquake being able To make the massive Giant fall and crush us. LADY EMMA. There is a peril, Friar, which, I fear, Neither this Giant nor his friends can save from — The peril of a thunder-storm. CATHLEEN (io EODDAM^. O, hear! LADY MARGARET. It were a deadly sin 'gainst taste, so soon To quit this scene of wild sublimity. In dread of an imaginary danger. My spirit rises while I gaze, to see The shadows deepen, as the clouds o'ersweep The almost-meeting crags above our head. Until the cataract, that whitely falls As if from heaven, becomes its only light, — Seeming, indeed, a gush of moonshine poured Through a rent cloud, when all beside is gloom ! — \^Lightnin(f , That flash came not from water — ^Ha! again — \^A storm of thunder and lUjhtning, during which Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 119 the heads and weapons of the Outlaws are partly seen among the clefts. NORTON (aside to the Outlaws). Await my signal. [ They retire, (Aloud) 'Tis a fearful hour! God ! what a crash was that ! Flash crovvds on flash ! It lightens as if Satan sat i'th' clouds, And fed their fires ; while the redoubling crags. With most terrific mimicry, send back The rattle to the sky ! — (Aside) By heaven ! they quail. These northern warriors, who would fearless charge Thrice their own number in a Border feud. Are worms before a danger which doth mock The spear and mail of armed bravery ! Now is my time — [ Whistles, and enter Outlaws. NORTON (with affected alarm). The Outlaws ! — All ye saints Protect and save us ! — Holv Mother, save Thy servant ! AN OUTLAW. Yield ! Your purses or your lives! l2 120 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. NORTON. Good friends, submit ; else we shall never see Another morning dawn ! RODDAM. Monk, hold thy peace. Else I will cleave thy head '. [ To the Outlaws. A bold demand, And one that, numerous as ye are, will task Your prowess to enforce it. (lo Norton) Old man, bid The ladies keep the shadow of the rock As they regard their safety. We will throw A rampart of good steel before them. Form — Quick — right and left behind me. Yarely ! — Ten Good men and true are match for fifty villains ! [A Battle. Strike fast — and home ! Each thrust, so sent, rids earth Of so much crime ! [Fights. Thunder continues. High omens are about us — Heaven sends its lightnings to direct our blows. It thunders for our triumph ! [Fights. AN OUTLAW (rushing upon roddam from behind). Hell receive Thy fiery soul ! [Stabs him. Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 121 RODDAM (turning Jiercehj round). O Villain ! dastard! die! [Stabs him. That was a coward's trick. Fight, gallants, fight ! They waver. — On ! — Cath — use her name I dare not. Else should that name, heard o'er the tumult, make The brave be braver ! [Fights. [ The Battle continues. The Borderers give way. RODDAM. Cowards ! dastards ! stand ! Rally again, or be disgraced for ever ! What will they say by Cheviot ? [Fights. Vain I they leap O'er crag and cataract like startled deer ; And I am left. — Curse on the coward blow Of that expiring caitiff! [Staggers. [ The Outlaws seize and bear o^ Ladies Margaret andFiUyiA. Catbleen Jiies towards Kood am. Villains ! no — Ye shall not do that outiage ! (falls) O Cathleen ! cathleen. ' Tis done ! 'tis done ' — He would not hear me ! — Roddam ! O speak to me ! — He uever will speak more I l3 122 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. Dead! dead! — O misery ! [To Ihe Outlaws. Here — complete your work Of butchery ! Stretch me in blood beside him. And I will die with thanks upon my tongue ! l^ She raises him in part, places his head upon her knee, gazes upon him, and exclaims — He breathes, he lives ! Thank Heaven ! [T/te Scene shuts. SCENE II. Crags near Gordale. Enter an Outlaw. OUTLAW (almost breathless). He must be near. Ho ! Norton ! [Calling. [Enter Norton. NORTON. Fiends pluck out Thy foolish tongue ! Why shouldst thou 7iame me, ass ? OUTLAW. I did not name you ass ; but if you stay Many hours longer in this vicinage. You will have earned the name. Scene II. THE OUTLAW. 123 NORTON. No insolence — What meanest thou ? OUTLAW. Henry — NORTON. Damnation ! what ? Speak, what of him ? OUTLAW. He met us — Bland and me — As we were carrying off the Lady. Bland At the first menace, drojjped his sword, and begged Forgiveness. NORTON. Base poltroon ! And thou ? OUTLAW (hesitating ) Why-I— I did the same. NORTON. Two quailed to one ! The slaves—- But at the least, ye did confess nought. He Knows nothing of my part ? 124 THE OUTLAW. .^cf ly. OUTLAW. Bland told him all ! How you had trained us to oppose his will ; Had planned th' attack and capture of to-day ; And above all, had bound it on our souls. To give the Lady Percy to believe That he was author of whatever outrage She might have suffered. NORTON. Thou didst contradict this ? OUTLAW. I durst but sanction what my comrade said ; But took the earliest chance to steal away, In hope to find you out, and give you warning To scape the deep revenge the Chief hath vowed. NORTON. Thanks; but I fly not ! — Desperate was the throw. And the die turns up — Ruin ; but to whom ? That waits decision. — Go. I would compose My mind a little, were there a retreat. OUTLAW. The Cave. Saene TIL THE OUTLAW. 125 NORTON. The Cave ! Thou'rt mad, or else a traitor I That were the first explored. OUTLAW. Ay, such he deems Thy thought to be, and therefore will not search it. NORTON. That notion seems a shrewd one. [Puts o^' his disguise. Take this garb ; I have no further use for it. Be true. [Exit Norton. OUTLAW (solus). He has no further use for't. So I think. And I opine that, save by some good fortune, Of which I dream not, the next suit he gets. Will cost him nothing, and will last for ever ! [Exit. SCENE III. Gennet's Cave and the Waterfall. Henry is dis- covered in the act of supporting Lady Margaret. LADY MARGARET. Where am I ? Where is Emma ? Where my friends ? Have they all perished in yon dreadful cavern ? 126 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. Am I the singly saved ? Speak, Monk ! Speak, Outlaw! My Evil Genius, speak ! HENRT. The last, sweet Lady, I wot not why you call me. True, I am Most evil to myself j to one beside I am most evil ; but to thee ! LADY MARGARET. Forgive me, If in my terror I have done thee wrong. But I will call thee aught — my Guardian Angel Ever at hand to rescue and to save ! That I will call thee, and will add whate'er My power may promise, or my purse afford, If thou wilt tell me that my friends are safe ! HENRY. Dear Lady, be composed. I have already Assured thee all is well. My friend's report, Which but thy swoon prevented thee from hearing, Bore that some others of your northern train, Not in the former company, had reached The scene of conflict; that th' assailants then, On this accession to their foes, had fled ; Scene HI. THE OUTLAW. 127 That Lady Emma, rescued by an arcber. Had joined her friends^ — LADY MARGARET. Thank God ! And Roddara— But that brave youtb is slain ! — HENRY. I know not that. LADY MARGARET. And I — why am I here ? O ! what have I Or said, or done, to merit this unkindness ? Speak, why is Margaret the selected victim Of him who saved her life ? — But hear me, villain ! The stainless Daughter of a martial line Cannot receive an insult unavenged ! HENRY (kneeling). If in my soul there ever lurked, or lurks, One thought intending aught but good to thee. May the next flash yon awful sky shall send, Strike me to ashes ! LADY MARGARET. Art thou not the author Of this day's work ? 128 THE OUTLAW. ^ct IF. HENRY. So help me Heaven, no ! LADY MARGARET. Nor knowest our assailants ? HENRY (rising). There I cannot Plead innocence. Some guilt is justly mine ; For which I suffer penance — thy suspicion. But I am foully wronged, as one shall know [Thunder. And pay for ! Hark ! more fiercely and more near The thunder rolls. The lightning wraps the crags In its most perilous flame. But we are nigh The shelter of a cave — LADY MARGARET. Speak not of that ! Here stand I in the face of Heaven, whose darts Fly not at random, but obey the hand That makes them ministers to strike or spare ; Here is no danger save from One whose pity Marks the poor sparrow fall. I will trust Him, Although he seems in anger — but not thee ! HENRY. Thy will be law. I did but mean to find thee Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 129 A shelter from the storm. But O ! believe, That cave were safe as Alnwick's princely bowers ; And let me add, those princely bowers may sec Fair youths of noble name and martial deed Contending for thy smile, but shall not see. Amid the crowd of suitors, one that loves thee With love so true as mine ! LADY MAUUARET. Talk not of love! Of that no more ! If thus my foolish dream Is over, let it end ! — Thou hadst, poor youlli, A part in Margaret Percy's bosom once — I shame me not to say it now, when I Am wretched, and thine eyes do look their last Upon me — but 'tis done. From this hour forth, I cast thine image thence, and thought of thee Shall never haunt me more ! HENRY. To have been thus — To have engrossed, though hut a moment's spaco, One thought of thine— shall be the cherished feeling. The secret triumph, and the silent pride Of this full heart, till its pulsations cease 130 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. In the calm grave ! But since it hath been thus — And that Earth's fairest hps have just avouched — Why not be thus again ? LADY MARGARET. Impossible. Ask thy own life. HENRY. Lady, my life hath not Been free from stain ; yet are there greater villains, If that must be the word. LADY MARGARET. That I would hope. And yet connexion is confessed — alliance — With men of blood ! HENRY. A fitter time will come. When all shall be explained. LADY MARGARET. It needeth not ; I have no interest in the knowledge. Yet Tliere is one question I should like to ask. Ere we two part for ever. Know you aught Of a poor girl named Ashton ? Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 131 HENRY. Said I, no, I should say falsely. LADY MARGARET. That at least seems candid. — Art thou the cause of that fair girl's distraction ? HENRY, It was deep villany to be the cause ; But, bt'ing so, 'twere double villany To say — I am not. LADY MARGARET. Then did blood of Kings Flow in thy veins, I should esteem myself Degraded by thy suit! — Away, and beg Pardon of outraged Heaven ! HENRY. Alas ! my heart Is not of adamant. I feel too late The ruin I have wrought. Thou art too good To know how passion in the heart of man, With the swift out-break of a summer flood. Bears in its course the meadow-blooms of virtue. And leaves the banks a waste. — But I will not m2 132 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. Attempt the palliation of my guilt. I am unworthy, Lady, to remain In presence of thy virtue ; and not long Shall my taint-breathing infamy bedim Its all-pure mirror. Having joined your friends, Our paths will thenceforth separate ; and if Thine be but bright with sunshine, that reflection Will form a rainbow on the lowering cloud That now must darken mine ! LADY MARGARET. Yet why — O ! why Should thine be dark ? Thy manners and thy speech No token bear of vulgar biith. Still less Dost thou seem one that skulks by cave and brake, Cheering his crew to most abhorred deeds. At whose recital good men weep. Then wliy Not quit the base career, and rise — ay, rise — For well I ween the meanest state life hath — The state of Bondman fettered to the soil. And sold and bought with that — is high, is noble. Compared with thine ! HENRY. Ask the "bruised wretch, ct)nvulsed Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 133 With agony, to re-ascend the rock, Down which his madness or his fate hath dashed him. Alas, liis feeble limbs could ill keep stance On ledge or jutting stone. The shoots by which Uninjured sinews might attain the summit. Spring greenly but to mock the sight of him Doomed at the base to die ! — But if my heart Had power enough to scale the precipice. And be what it hath been, how valueless Were e'en success, when thou — the Vision bright That on its top shed radiancy — art gone. And all is dull and blank! — Xo, no ; that light No more on high, fame, name, and character Are things not worth a thought ! LADY MARGARET. Thou talk'st romance. Now hear the truth. A Percy's daughter comes not In contact with disgrace. Yet say I will — If my poor smile can win thee from this mean And guilty course, thou hast it ! — O forgive — Be all thou wast at Lin hope's wild cascade. When the North saw her Chivalry outshone By the young Stranger Knight ! Whose eve like mine m3 134 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. The change shall greet ? Whose heart like mine rejoice ? And O ! whose hand — but mine — reward the struggle High — hard — and holy ? HENRY (kneeling and taking her hand). Noble maid ! 'tis done. That word redeems the past, and saves the future ! Beloved by thee, I am not all degraded ; Beloved by thee, I shall not sink again Beneath the proud height of thy love ! That word Hath torn the mystery — as a garment — from me, And now I tell thee — [Shouting is heard as of persons in search of some one, and calling to and answering one another. We are inten-upted. It means not. Thou shalt learn all soon. But how ? Was it a dream ? Or did T hear, in sooth, That tliou art the affianced Bride of Fenwick ? LADY MARGARET. Indeed thou must have dreamt it, Henry. HEXRY. What ! Is there, then, no alliance soon to be Betwixt your Houses ? Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 1 35 LADY MARGARET. Yes, My Brother's troth Is phghted to the Lady Emma. HENRY. Fool! Madman ! — But it is well no hlood was shed. The noble Fen wick ! — As I live, 'tis he — lEnterljORii Fknwick. HENRY (taking his hand). My lord, I blush to meet you. I but learnt This moment how insanely I have acted. Can you forgive me ? LORB FENWICK. Stranger, as a debtor That lacks wherewith to pay — HENRY. No, no. Not long Shall thou so designate me. To your care Permit me to restore your lovely ward. Honoured and safe as when at first exposed To the rude rangers of these craggy glens. Adieu to both. I follow soon. \^Exit. 136 THE OUTLAW. Act IV. XORD PENWICK and LADY MAKGARET. Adieu ! {Exeunt. SCENE IV. The Interior of Gennet's Cave. Norton discorer- ed at the entrance sword in hand, and couched as if ready to spring upon some one. Fanny AsHTON near him. FANNY. Norton, what watch you for? NORTON. A wild boar — hush ! (aside) This mad fool will betray me, if I am not Betrayed already by yon clown — He moves ! He turns away — returns — Damnation ! — stay — FANNY. This is the Fairy's cave. Hast seen her, Norton ? But she ne'er shows herself, except to eyes That soon must close in death. Would /might see her ! It were so sweet to die, and dream no more. Dost thou dream, Norton ? Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 1:37 NORTON. Peace ! I say. FANNY. I will; Because thou art so surly — not like him. He said I was a fairy; said my eyes, With every sparkle, wove a spell around him. That made me lovelier — dearer ! Norton, thin Shall never more be styled the cave of Gennet. 'Tis mine! Here will I dwell; and when my brain Burns, I will bathe it in yon gentle Fall Whose waters light my cavern. Then at morn, I'll sprinkle me with dew-drops from the rose ; And when the Moon looks o'er the fell, I'll mount Her beams, and seek my love ! \_Lightnin»-. N [ 142 ] THE OUTLAW. A.CT V. SCENE I. The Library in Barden Tower. Lord Clifford and the Prior of Bolton seated at a table covered ivith papers, books, and mathematicaf instruments. LORD CLIFFORD. Alas^ lord Prior, we must interrupt The pleasant course of our most loved researches ! To watch the wanderers of the nightly sky, That shed their influence, adverse or benign; To trace the mysteries of Nature's work In earth or water — whether we remark The ebbs and flows of Ocean as he leads His mighty waves beneath the moving moon, Or seek, by chemic fire, the still-hid stone Philosphy hath worn her eyes to find ; — These, our enjoyments, must give place awhile Tu painful duties. Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 143 PRIOR. God's higli will be done ! When open you the court ? LORD CLIFFORD. I wait the coming Of certain of the northern visiters, As evidence against the robber horde. PRIOR. How many of the villains are secured ? LORD CLIFFORD. Some twenty, and with them a sly old fox That keeps the hostelry at Kilnsey. PRIOR. Ah,— Is he suspected ? LORD CLIFFORD. Yes, of leaguing with, ; Abetting, and concealing them. PRIOR. I hear Earl Percy hath an-ived. LORD CLIFFORD. His lordship came n2 144 THE OUTLAW. Act V. Last night, and will attend the court. He begs A previous interview to talk with nie On matters of high moment.. — Would 'twere over! For I do hate so much these shows of life — The words that nothing mean, the smiles that hide The pain of the tired heart— that, by my faith, I could e'en now exchange this noble name. My lordly halls, and all their owner's power. For the low cottage and the homely fare. The unvexed spirit and the quiet sleep I had among the glens of Cumberland, Ere I was wakened to the certainty Of my true rank, and all the cares that cling to't ! PRIOR. That mood, my lord, is but a passing cloud. Soon to depart and leave your spirit clear. Else would I blame you for it. He who did Retrieve the ruined fortunes of thy House, And gave you power to sooth or to redress The woes of thousands round you — power which ought To be the sweeter, since yourself have felt The very ills that ask your aidance — He, Scene L THE OUTLAW. 145 I say, ray lord, deserves more gratitude Than such complaint implies. LOUD CLIFFORD. O true, most true. Yet must I feel that I am all unfit — From natural disposition, and the want Of artificial polish — for the sphere My fortune threw me into. I believe That what the Boy has been, the Man will be; And I was, as a boy, contemplative. Not prone to active sports, I was the child — But let me check myself; for of my nature ' Tis the weak point — to prattle of the past. Of things, perchance the listener nothing cares for. Perchance hath heard before. PRIOR. Never to me Did aught your lordshij? talked of, come unwelcome. I love to hear old memories, recitals Of passages, long gone, but called, as 'twere, Up from th' abyss of time, and hallowed by The light of fond Remembrance. n3 146 THE OUTLAW. Act V LORD CLIFFORD. Then art thou Fit to be listener when the aged speak. — I was the child of war and of misfortune ; Born in a castle, suckled in the camp, And thence transferred — when Ruin found my sire. And would have found his son, that Clifford's name Might only gild the past — transfen'ed for safety. To secret places in the west. PRIOR. Unknown To those about you ? LORD CLIFFORD. Ay, and to myself. For the ievf gleams my youthful memory kept Of prouder days, soon vanished ; and I deemed Myself the peasant boy that others thought me. i PRIOR. Your lady-mother died. LORD CLIFFORD. Yes, died before I was of age to be intrusted with The dangerous secret of my noble birth ; Scene I. THE OUTLAW. 147 But not before I was of age to learn The faith my futliers cherished. Oft she read, And wept the while, the blessed page that tells Of God's sojourn with mortals. PRIOR. Well for you. That the first knowledge of that Book was taught By lips so pure as hers ! You might have else Erred, by interpreting the sacred word In other ways than Holy Church permits Her children to believe. LORD CLIFFORD (crossing himself). Jesu be thanked ! I keep the faith. At three score years and ten It were too late to re-examine points Of controversy. These another race May sift and battle for — as signs abroad Seem to prognosticate they will. PRIOR. Saints grant It may be well for Rome ! ' Twas but last night, I dreamt I saw my own fair Friory, The beautiful House in which our fathers worshipped. 148 THE OUTLAW. Act V. Doomed, pillaged, desecrated ! Nay, I saw Until the Ivy mantled every arch. And waved from every window-shaft, and things Obscene and nameless crawled and twisted, where The holy Altar now is dim with light ! And I heard men, that walked about, and said 'Twas a just retribution for the waste And wickedness that long had revelled there. And some named me — me, Richard Moone, with curses. And some with pity, as the last that ruled As Prior within its walls. — St Mary, guard The shrine thou lovest! — Pardon me, my lord; This weakness but delays your narrative. LORD CLIFFORD. My dreams are of the mountains, where my youth Did pass so happily, in sweet communion With Nature — unacquainted with all pomp. Except her own, when Night brought out the stars — [Enter a Servant. SERVANT. My lord. Earl Percy. [Exit Servant. Seme I. THE OUTLAW. 149 LORD CLIFFORD. 1'hank your fortune, sir, Your trial's past. \_Enter the'E.kVi.'L of Northumberland. A thousand welcomes, lord. To Barden Tower ! Your lordship's willing servant, The Prior of Bolton, NORTHUMBERLAND. That sum quadrupled In thanks to both ! [To Lord Clifford. Time hath laid on your lordship A gentle hand since last we met. By heaven, Did the Scot muster for another fight. Thou wouldst bear arms as stoutly as you did On Flodden Field. LORD CLIFFORD, Your lordship's pleased to flatter. But thanks to Heaven, my age keeps green. — And you. Time hath not passed you without adding strength And manly bulk to the fair slender frame I saw five years ago. Please you, be seated. 160 THE OUTLAW. Act V. NORTHUMBERLAND. T crave your pardons both. My business asks Your private ear, my lord. LORD CLIFFORD. I am your servant. My friend will find amusement from these shelves Till our return. [Exeunt Lords. l^As ^Ae Prior takes down a volume the scene closes. SCENE 11. A wood near Barden Tower. Enter Ladies Mar- garet and Emma, with Cathleen. LADY MARGARET. ' Tis strange. Two days have passed, and yet he comes not! ! love's impatience ought to shame the lightning As slow and cold ! — But one thing I have sworn, That come he soon, or come he never more, 1 will not wed this man, whom my good brother Would kindly substitute for him I love ! Cathleen — CATHLEEN. My lady. Scene II. THE OUTLAW. 151 LADY MARGARET. How fares Roddani ? CATHLEEN. Well. He doth recover as by iniracle; But loss of blood hath made him weak. LADY MARGARET. Brave Youth ! I would I were a Queen for Roddam's sake. CATHLEEN. I shall be glad to tell hhii of your wish. And he be proud to hear of it. LADY MARGARET. Cathleen, Vou knoAv the song of Duxcan ? I bethink me How the old Minstrel's tears mixed with his harp-strings As he did sing it — giving what to me Appeared a playful, not a sad farewell. An air of sorrow and of prophecy. — Just now, methinks, 'twould please me well to hear it. CATHLEEN. Would that my power to please were like my wish ! [ Sint/s. 152 THE OUTLAW. Act V. Away, Lady, fly from thy dark native mountains. Thy mead-bordered streams, and thy heather-fringed fountains, From the depth of thy glens, from the sweep of thy valleys, Where the warrior treads, and the deer-hunter sallies ; Away, Lady, fly ! but vale, mountain, and river May sweep, tower, and flow — and be thine again never ! O, thoughtless and light beats the heart in thy bosom — But thine eye is the diamond, thy cheek is the blossom, Thy form is the seraph's, all grace and all lightness. The charm of thy spirit around thee is brightness, — And young eyes may gaze, and young bosoms may quiver, Affections may change, and return to us never ! *Tis done ! — 'Mid the dazzle of bliss and of splendor, Still fewer and fainter the musings — though tender — That waft back thy soul to the land of thy childhood. Where mountain and meadow, where river and wildwood. And thousands of hearts throbbing fondly as ever. Lament thee away to be ours again — never ! Scene II. THE OUTLAW. 153 LADY MARGARET. Hark ! Mingled not with Cathleen's voice some strain Of doleful note ? Or grow I superstitious Since Gordale's gloomy hour ? LADY EMMA (looklng Ollt). You heard aright. There cometh now a funeral-train, who bear A coffin decked with garlands. Maidens young. Arrayed in white, support the bier. Some comrade They take to her last home, I doubt not. — Hush ! Again they raise the hymn. Step we aside, Until the sad procession passes by. {Exeunt. [Enter a Funeral. A coffin with the name of Fanny AsHTON engra<'en on the lid, is carried shiclij on the stage, followed by Cuthbert Asiiton, his Wife, and mourners ; Cvts.bf,rt leaning on a staff. The Bearers set down the coffin, while the following lines are sung. hymn. When the storm calleth Wildly and loudly, Then the flower falleth That blossomed so proudly — o 154 THE OUTLAW. Act V. Earth to its eartli we bring, Solemnly, slowly ! Soul to its God, we sing, Happy and holy ! Dare not to blame her — Lifeless she lieth ! Tenderly name her — Early she dieth ! Dust to its narrow cell, NaiTovv and lowly I Soul with its JMaker dwell, Happy and holy ! [Durinj the Hymn a Stranger, mnffled, comes forward, places his hand on the coffin, and stands in an attitude of grief. Cuthbert and his Wife appear to notice him, and to converse earnestly aside. At length Cuthbert raises his staff and speaks — CUTHBERT. A vaunt there, villain ! or beware the vengeance < )!' a despairing father — father ? No ! I was a father. Ciu'ses light — Scene II. THE OUTLAW. 155 STRANGER. Old man, Cuvse not. It 'vails not. It is curse enough To feel what now I feel. CUTHBERT. Dost thou repent ? Then God forgive thee — as — I — do I [Weeps. STRANGER. Amen ! And when thou seest my features, thou wilt know. That I am able, not to heal thy woes. But, it may be, to soften them. IShows his face to Cuthbert. Exclaim not I I would not these should know me for the wretch I must appear to ihera, if known. [Takes his arm. Good Cuthbert, Permit I prop thy steps, who have, alas ! Ta'en their sweet prop away. I have sad right To be a Mourner here I CUTHBERT (greatly agitated). This is too much ! o2 15G THE OUTLAW. Act V. \^The funeral moves on, and as the last of the train disappear, re-enter the Ladies. LADY MARGARET. Ever ihe same — O noble, noble youth '. XADY EMMA. Who hath your admiration ! LADY MARGARET. Saw you not P Wliat else was there to look at ? Who but he Dared play that partP — Too happy Faxny AsHXoJf, Thus mourned by him ! 'Twere sweet, methinks, to die. To have his tears shed o'er one! — Every drop Ts worth a kingdom ! LADY EMMA. If so rich his tear. What were his smile worth ? LADY MARGARET. Worth the world ! And if There should be such a cloud upon his life As may forbid me to enjoy that smile, I'll live upon its memory, and die When the sweet light shall vanish ! Scene II. THE OUTLAW. 15T LADY EMMA. That will turn On your opinion of his rival, who, They say, is handsome. LADY MARGARET. Emma, not a word, I do beseech you, speak to me of him. I ought not hate a man I never saw; But, as a vapour that doth come between My sun and me, I hate him; or at least I wish him from my atmosphere. CATHLEEN (to LADY MARGARETJ. So please you, I see my lord, your brother, on the path, And hastening hitherward. LADY MARGARET. He comes to lead us Into the court. Away, and let us meet him. lExeunt. o3 158 THE OUTLAW. ^qd V. SCENE 111. A court of Justice. On the bench sits Lord Clifford ivith Fenvvick, Grey, Swinburne, Orde, (Sf«. and Roddam. A number of the Outlaws chained together; beside them Har- MAN Trueman- Behind the prisoners stand D'EsTON and FARRAtii) tvith the principal gentry of Craven. Earl Percy and the Ladies enter and take their places on the bench. The pro- ceedings appear to have gone on for some time. lord CLIFFORD. These men are ignorant; were wont to be Good, honest villagers ; and had of vice Nothing beyond their class. 'Tis clear as day. That they have been misled — misled by whom ? That must be scrutinised. — But there stands one Whom I should mis-describe, did I put him In the same catalogue with simple clowns. Stand forward, Trueman ! — Thou art here accused Of leaguing with, abetting, and concealing These men in their bad deeds. What canst thou say In vindication of thy conduct i* Scene III. I'HE OUTLAW. 1 59 HOST. This— I keep an open house. LORD CLIFFORD. Ay, that thou dost. An open house for felons. Is't not so ? HOST. For honest men, ray Lord, if they have cash. But that is seldom ; and by this same token, I do believe these honest. When they rub The scores against them from my check-board, then I may esteem them thieves. LORD CLIFFORD. A quibble, man. Which shall not serve you. Thou hast heard the proof — These men were frequent revellers at thy house. HOST. Ay, marry were they ! Oft they drank and late 3 Would they had paid as often ! LORD CLIFFORD. Now, Sir, dare you. Before this court, assert that these men owe Even for one poor gill ? 100 THE OUTLAW. Act V. HOST. I dare be sworn That they have drunk a thousand, and ne'er paid For one poor drop. Your worship shall be judge If that implies a debt. LORD CLIFFORD. Another quibble. This is a deep knave. But ray honest Harman, The question I shall next address to thee. Will make a subterfuge too difficult E'en for thy subtle brain. Art thou not paid For all these men have drunk ? HOST. I am, my lord. LORD CLIFFORD. So far 'tis well. Now wilt thou say by whom <* HOST. By those that had the cash, my lord ; for I, Like all my tribe, do make good customers Pay for the bad — in which sense I am paid. LORD CLIFFORD. Unfathomable rascal ! But I will Not thus be trifled with. Sir, these men stand Scene III. THE OUTLAW. Kjl Convicted of a series of offences, Gross, unaccountable. At Fountains Abbey, In spite of curse by candle, bell, and book, They drove the brethren forth. Six weelcs ago, The men of Gafigrave from their ni^ht-altack Scarce found the church a sanctuary. Tithes, Ordained for holiest purposes, have been Demanded and received— to gild their riot. 'J'hey fell on my poor servant, Cuthbert Ashton. As their guilt's climax, from the last offence Deaths have resulted; and the penalty Their lives must pay. Now, Harman Trueman, thou, As cognisant beforehand of their guilt, Standest in equal peril. Thou canst yet, Hovifever, save thyself, and do good service. By now discovering who enticed them into The course they soon may suffer for. HOST (turning round). Is't so ? Then, officer, your gyves! I'll take my place Beside the guilty, and will suffer with them. For never will old Trueman turn informer Against the friends that trusted them ! 162 THE OUTLAW. Act V. LOIin CLIFFORD. The rack Shall tear the secret from thy craft! — Remove him To torture, officers. [^Officers seize Trueman. d'estox (stepping forward). A moment stay ! 'Twill save your lordship's time, and spare you trouble. To clear at once this matter up. These men, Your lordship justly says, are ignorant. And simple, and have been misled. Permit me To earn for them a pardon, by delivering One Leader up to justice. LORD CLIFFORD. Name him, D'Eston. d'eston. I am that one. FARRAND (stepping forward). And I another. SEVERAL GENTLEMEN. We Must also plead th' offence, my lord. Scene III. THE OUTLAW. 163 LORD CLIFFORD. Amazement ! The flower of Craven's chivalry thus hlighted ! RODDAM. By th' INIass, I'm glad on't ! Little did I dream That we had such antagonists. In sooth They fought like men ; and were it mine t' impose Their penance, I would order tliat anew They meet us in yon chasm, and fight it out With their good swords ! KORTHUMEERLAND (smiling). Peace, Roddam. LORD CLIFFORD. Other measure Must be dealt out to them ! It cannot be That human life should fall like autumn leaves Ujmoted and unvalued. Gentlemen, The law, that with an equal eye beholds The guilt of rich and poor, or if it leans. Leans on the rich with just severity. As having ampler means to know their duty^ — That law, long set at nought, demandeth now Augmented vengeance. [Enter Henry abrupt ly. 164 THE OUTLAW. Act V. HENRY. Yes ; but not on them. Here point your thunder, if llie bolt must fall ! These have but shared the frolic and the farce, The tragedy o'th' play hath all been mine. / slew young Norton, I beheld the death Of Fanny Ashton. \^A pause of astonishment. LORD CLIFFORD (to HENRYJ. Then, young sir — LORD FENWICK. One word Permit to me, ere judgment be pronounced. There is a mystery in these transactions WJiich it were wise to clear. I know that man [Pointing to Henry. I know his honour fair. If he hath ta'en A life, as he confesses, T will pledge My own, that it hath been for worthy cause, And in fair fight. 1'hese are not idle words ; There is my gage — [Throtvs down his (/aunt/ef. I'll prove them on the body Of any that shall dare to take it up ! Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 165 LADY MARGARET. Thanks, noble Fenwick ! — I forget myself — I only meant to say that I believe That — gentleman — incapable — I pray you — liord Clifford ! He is innocent — [Faiiifs. LORD CLIFFORD. Sweet Lady, Would he were worthy of so fair a pleader ! Look to her, lords. — This case we'll further hear In private. Keep the prisoners in charge. And, D'Eston, follow me. IThe Court breaks Kit. SCENE IV. A room in Barden Tower. Enter Northumberland and Henry, slowly, in conversation. NORTHUMBERLAND. I saw it all — young blood, that would not move In the dull sluggish current of old age ; And enterprise, that would not pause to learn The lessons of a stern economy. And yet the hero who had shivered lance In the " Field of the Cloth of Gold, " the play-fellow P 166 THE OUTLAW. .ict V. Of princes, and the favourite of a King, Should hardly have descended — HENRY. Hold, my lord. Or I shall think I hear mv father chiding. I will amend all that. NOHTHUMBERLAND. I doubt it not — And now of Norton ? HENRY. Would he were alive. And here, to answer for himself — and me! For then I should not be compelled to say What now I'm forced to. — He was of a House Not, it is true, a rival of our own. But still, from petty causes, oft a thorn In our supremacy. Hence grew ill blood Between us, e'en from boyhood. Rivalries — I need not say in what — embroiled our youth, In which my star still kept th' ascendant. Stung, At length, to madness by imagined wrongs. He challenged me to mortal fight. We fought. He had his life — I took it not. Nay more. Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 1 «7 I did receive him as a friend ; I made him Thenceforth my confidant. But there are men To whom a kindness is a burden — who Can sooner pardon injury, than a deed Of generosity. To blast my hopes Of union with your House, became a wisli And a determination, for the which This Outlaw folly seemed to give him scope. Wild as it was, and rash, his plan appears But little fitted to achieve its object; But Passion doth hide peril, as the mist Conceals the yawning chasm. — Not much remains To tell. Defeated in his mad attempt. And conscious he must answer for it — not To me alone, but to the outraged law — By desperation urged, assassin-like. At my unguarded breast he struck. His blow Was intercepted, and, alus ! received By one whose story you shall hear. I slew hini ; ' Tis pity, but 'twas in my own defence. NORTHUMBERLAND. I do believe it ; and, if that were needful, \^'ould gladly stand your friend. Come on — p2 168 THE OUTLAW. Act V. HENRY. Not yet. I go to change this garb. NORTHUMBERLAND. Pray you, what next ? Shall it be forester's green, or peasant's gray. Or Outlaw's steel- ringed jerken P HENRY. Good my lord. Mock not ! I'll none of them. Remember you A certain Knight that joined your northern stag-hunt ? NORTHUMBERLAND. I understand you. Go — and lose no time. l^Exit Henry. [Enter Lord Clifford. St George ! there have been stirrings here, my lord. I almost could believe me still on th' Border, Where skirmish 'twixt the Suthron and the Scot Creates no marvel. Where hath justice slept ? lord CLIFFORD. In Barden Tower with me, I greatly fear. NORTHUMBERLAND. Bravely confessed. This candour gives me courage Scene IV. THE OUTLAW. 1 69 To charge your lordship further, as the cause, In some part, of these troubles. LORD CLIFFORD. How! NORTHUMBERLAND. Excuse me. You did deny the means — LOUD CLIFFORD. What means, my lord .' My towers were open, and my tables free. Aught else, sir, a poor Baron like myself — NORTHUMBERLAND. Well, well, no more. Broad lands in hill and dale, In chase and greenwood, and perchance some gold That hath not seen the sun of late, will make Fresh drafts on your exchequer needless. Come — LORD CLIFFORD. Indeed we're much beholden to your lordship. But why not tell me of the part that 'scape-grace Bore in these doings ? NORTHUMBERLAND. I conceived it better To let the hank unravel of itself, p3 170 THE OUTLAW. Act V. At your j iidicial winding. And I had, Besides, a wish to note the interest Waked in my sister's hosoni, for myself; And well your scrutiny did serve that wish. LORD CLIFFORD. Nay, now that was a cruelty, my lord. Which, had I been aware of it, you should not Have had the chance to practise. NORTHUMBERLAND. Tush ! my sister Will thank me for it in a week. My brother. That is to be, would thank me for it now, Did he suspect it to be work of mine. {^Exeunt. SCENE V. The Library, as before. Ladies Margaret and Emma, irilh Cathleen, are discovered in ear- nest conversation (aside) with Grey, Fenwick, aud RoDDAM. To them enter D'EsTON, Far- rand, (Sfc. from, one side, and LoRDS Percy and Clifford from the other. LORD CLIFFORD (to a SERVANT behind), iiid them dismiss the i)ris()ners. 'Tis just. Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 171 If we forgive the Head that moved the whole, To save the Hand that was impelled by it. LADY MARGAKET (passionately). Then He is safe ! LORD CLIFFORD. Lady, I know not that. He hatli so far disgraced his name and birth. Dishonoured so his breeding, that my duty Compels me to acquaint his Sovereign with it. And leave him in the royal hand. LADY MARGARET. O! then I pray you, take this ring. It was the gift Of England's lord to my unhappy father ; Nor hath it lost its virtue by the passage Through these poor hands. Have it conveyed to him, And should the King be stern, let him produce it, — It may, with Margaret Percy's prayer to aid it. Become a talisman to save him ! LORD CLIFFORD. Lady, His penance will be slight, thy zeal befriending. But keep the relic for another suit. 172 THE OUTLAW. Act V. The monarch loves my Son, will, for his sake, O'erlook a fault or two — LADY MARGARET, O ! will he use His influence, and make me his servant ever ! LORD CLIFFORD. His Wife, sweet Lady, was't not thai you meant ? LADY MARGARET. Hear me, Lord Clifford ! I have due respect For you ; and feel, I trust, sufficient sense Of til' honour you intend me ; but — LORD CLIFFORD (to NORTHUMBERLAND^ . Odsfish ! How's this, ray lord ? Another trick of thine ? Come, come, no more of it. Dear Lady, trust I am not in this business. \^To a Servant. Tell my Son To hasten hither. Thou shalt see him. Lady ; And then thy mind shall be at liberty To choose or to reject him. [Enter Henry, LADY MARGARET. Brother, this Scene V. THE OUTLAW. 173 Hath been thy scheme, and Emma, thine, too. Well, 1 can forgive. HENRY (takes her hand and kneels). Here let me claim thy promise. You see me as "at Linhope's wild cascade. Where the North saw her Chivalry." — I dare not Repeat the compliment ; hut here I am, Nor false, nor outlawed, yet a shepherd's son. The son,of that good man, a Sheplierd once. And my name Henry, to which you may now Add that of Clifford. [Leads her to LiORii Clifford. Henry Clifford begs Thy pardon, and thy blessing ! NORTHUMBERLAND (leading LADY EMMA fo him)- Good your lordship, Bestow your blessing here, too. RODDAM (leading cathleen to him). If a page Might dare presume so far, I, too, would ask it. LADY MARGARET. No bolder spirit lives than thine, young Roddam, And honour were vour meed in any rank. 174 THE OUTLAW. Act V- LORD CLIFFORD. This weakness o' the eye — well, well. [7'oHenry. Young sir, I had roughdrawn a letter, to be laid Before the King, detailing these excesses. Which, now that all's forgiven, I will burn. HENRY. No, keep it, father. Lay it in the archives Of our old House. Perchance a future age May find it, and thence learn, that there was once A Clifford who exemplified the truth — That 'tis a perilous experiment To raise a lawless power, whate'er the end We mean to reach by it. ' Tis a machine Which he who made it, finds hard task to guide; But should he leave it, rash or wicked hands May seize the wheels, and urge their speed to Ruix ! [To the audience. And now, if our kind judges deign to say That Henry fairly hath acquitted him. The Outlaw and his gallant band will proudly And gratefully pursue their avocations. By nightly levying willing Contributions I THE END. [ 175 ] NOTE. Froji the length to which the Text has been un- expectedly extended, the honour is denied me of appending to the present work a List of its many kind and distinguished patrons. The same cause precludes the insertion of several Notes, prepared for its elucida- tion. I trust, however, that the Reader has met with little obscurity. The only local word I am aware of having used, is Barghest, which, according to the respected author of the " Craven Dialect" is derived from the Belgic, and means a sprite that haunts towns, and populous places. The Rush-bearing, in the third Act, was an annual custom, now — since the introduction of flagged floors in churches — fallen into desuetude; though the festi- vities which accompanied it, are still continued in the yearly village feasts. The song on Beaumont-Side appeared in my " Songs and L}Tical Poems," and has since been published, with music by Wood and Thirlwalh [ 176 ] A rough draft of a letter written by the Shepherd- lord to one of the privy-counsellors of Henry VITI, complaining of his son's conduct, was found among the family papers, and is printed by Dr. Whitaker in his History of Craven. This explains an allusion towards the end of the fifth Act. Printed by J. TASKER, Bookseller, &c., Skiptou. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. ■REMINGTON RAND INC. 20 213 (533; Tim jjE^Awr PR Story - 5i;99 The outlaw s387o IJjjJJ™ REGIOWL LIBRARY FACILITY 'A 000 367 533 7 __L_ PR s887o