The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 66

LACY You are found at last, thanks to the vagrant Troop For not misleading us.

OSWALD (looking at WALLACE) That subtle Greybeard-- I'd rather see my father's ghost.

LACY (to MARMADUKE) My Captain, We come by order of the Band. Belike You have not heard that Henry has at last Dissolved the Barons' League, and sent abroad His Sheriffs with fit force to reinstate The genuine owners of such Lands and Baronies As, in these long commotions, have been seized.

His Power is this way tending. It befits us To stand upon our guard, and with our swords Defend the innocent.

MARMADUKE Lacy! we look But at the surfaces of things; we hear Of towns in flames, fields ravaged, young and old Driven out in troops to want and nakedness; Then grasp our swords and rush upon a cure That flatters us, because it asks not thought: The deeper malady is better hid; The world is poisoned at the heart.

LACY What mean you?

WALLACE (whose eye has been fixed suspiciously upon OSWALD) Ay, what is it you mean?

MARMADUKE Hark'ee, my Friends;-- [Appearing gay.]

Were there a Man who, being weak and helpless And most forlorn, should bribe a Mother, pressed By penury, to yield him up her Daughter, A little Infant, and instruct the Babe, Prattling upon his knee, to call him Father--

LACY Why, if his heart be tender, that offence I could forgive him.

MARMADUKE (going on) And should he make the Child An instrument of falsehood, should he teach her To stretch her arms, and dim the gladsome light Of infant playfulness with piteous looks Of misery that was not--

LACY Troth, 'tis hard-- But in a world like ours--

MARMADUKE (changing his tone) This self-same Man-- Even while he printed kisses on the cheek Of this poor Babe, and taught its innocent tongue To lisp the name of Father--could he look To the unnatural harvest of that time When he should give her up, a Woman grown, To him who bid the highest in the market Of foul pollution--

LACY The whole visible world Contains not such a Monster!

MARMADUKE For this purpose Should he resolve to taint her Soul by means Which bathe the limbs in sweat to think of them; Should he, by tales which would draw tears from iron, Work on her nature, and so turn compa.s.sion And grat.i.tude to ministers of vice, And make the spotless spirit of filial love Prime mover in a plot to d.a.m.n his Victim Both soul and body--

WALLACE 'Tis too horrible; Oswald, what say you to it?

LACY Hew him down, And fling him to the ravens.

MARMADUKE But his aspect It is so meek, his countenance so venerable.

WALLACE (with an appearance of mistrust) But how, what say you, Oswald?

LACY (at the same moment) Stab him, were it Before the Altar.

MARMADUKE What, if he were sick, Tottering upon the very verge of life, And old, and blind--

LACY Blind, say you?

OSWALD (coming forward) Are we Men, Or own we baby Spirits? Genuine courage Is not an accidental quality, A thing dependent for its casual birth On opposition and impediment.

Wisdom, if Justice speak the word, beats down The giant's strength; and, at the voice of Justice, Spares not the worm. The giant and the worm-- She weighs them in one scale. The wiles of woman, And craft of age, seducing reason, first Made weakness a protection, and obscured The moral shapes of things. His tender cries And helpless innocence--do they protect The infant lamb? and shall the infirmities, Which have enabled this enormous Culprit To perpetrate his crimes, serve as a Sanctuary To cover him from punishment? Shame!--Justice, Admitting no resistance, bends alike The feeble and the strong. She needs not here Her bonds and chains, which make the mighty feeble.

--We recognise in this old Man a victim Prepared already for the sacrifice.

LACY By heaven, his words are reason!

OSWALD Yes, my Friends, His countenance is meek and venerable; And, by the Ma.s.s, to see him at his prayers!-- I am of flesh and blood, and may I perish When my heart does not ache to think of it!-- Poor Victim! not a virtue under heaven But what was made an engine to ensnare thee; But yet I trust, Idonea, thou art safe.

LACY Idonea!

WALLACE How! What? your Idonea?

[To MARMADUKE.]

MARMADUKE _Mine;_ But now no longer mine. You know Lord Clifford; He is the Man to whom the Maiden--pure As beautiful, and gentle and benign, And in her ample heart loving even me-- Was to be yielded up.

LACY Now, by the head Of my own child, this Man must die; my hand, A worthier wanting, shall itself entwine In his grey hairs!--

MARMADUKE (to LACY) I love the Father in thee.

You know me, Friends; I have a heart to feel, And I have felt, more than perhaps becomes me Or duty sanctions.

LACY We will have ample justice.

Who are we, Friends? Do we not live on ground Where Souls are self-defended, free to grow Like mountain oaks rocked by the stormy wind?

Mark the Almighty Wisdom, which decreed This monstrous crime to be laid open--_here,_ Where Reason has an eye that she can use, And Men alone are Umpires. To the Camp He shall be led, and there, the Country round All gathered to the spot, in open day Shall Nature be avenged.

OSWALD 'Tis n.o.bly thought; His death will be a monument for ages.

MARMADUKE (to LACY) I thank you for that hint. He shall be brought Before the Camp, and would that best and wisest Of every country might be present. There, His crime shall be proclaimed; and for the rest It shall be done as Wisdom shall decide: Meanwhile, do you two hasten back and see That all is well prepared.