The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 67 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
WALLACE We will obey you.
(Aside.) But softly! we must look a little nearer.
MARMADUKE Tell where you found us. At some future time I will explain the cause.
[Exeunt.]
ACT III
SCENE--The door of the Hostel, a group of Pilgrims as before; IDONEA and the Host among them
HOST Lady, you'll find your Father at the Convent As I have told you: He left us yesterday With two Companions; one of them, as seemed, His most familiar Friend.
(Going.) There was a letter Of which I heard them speak, but that I fancy Has been forgotten.
IDONEA (to Host) Farewell!
HOST Gentle pilgrims, St. Cuthbert speed you on your holy errand.
[Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims.]
[SCENE--A desolate Moor]
[OSWALD (alone)]
OSWALD Carry him to the Camp! Yes, to the Camp.
Oh, Wisdom! a most wise resolve! and then, That half a word should blow it to the winds!
This last device must end my work.--Methinks It were a pleasant pastime to construct A scale and table of belief--as thus-- Two columns, one for pa.s.sion, one for proof; Each rises as the other falls: and first, Pa.s.sion a unit and _against_ us--proof-- Nay, we must travel in another path, Or we're stuck fast for ever;--pa.s.sion, then, Shall be a unit _for_ us; proof--no, pa.s.sion!
We'll not insult thy majesty by time, Person, and place--the where, the when, the how, And all particulars that dull brains require To const.i.tute the spiritless shape of Fact, They bow to, calling the idol, Demonstration.
A whipping to the Moralists who preach That misery is a sacred thing: for me, I know no cheaper engine to degrade a man, Nor any half so sure. This Stripling's mind Is shaken till the dregs float on the surface; And, in the storm and anguish of the heart, He talks of a transition in his Soul, And dreams that he is happy. We dissect The senseless body, and why not the mind?-- These are strange sights--the mind of man, upturned, Is in all natures a strange spectacle; In some a hideous one--hem! shall I stop?
No.--Thoughts and feelings will sink deep, but then They have no substance. Pa.s.s but a few minutes, And something shall be done which Memory May touch, whene'er her Va.s.sals are at work.
[Enter MARMADUKE, from behind]
OSWALD (turning to meet him) But listen, for my peace--
MARMADUKE Why, I _believe_ you.
OSWALD But hear the proofs--
MARMADUKE Ay, prove that when two peas Lie snugly in a pod, the pod must then Be larger than the peas--prove this--'twere matter Worthy the hearing. Fool was I to dream It ever could be otherwise!
OSWALD Last night When I returned with water from the brook, I overheard the Villains--every word Like red-hot iron burnt into my heart.
Said one, "It is agreed on. The blind Man Shall feign a sudden illness, and the Girl, Who on her journey must proceed alone, Under pretence of violence, be seized.
She is," continued the detested Slave, "She is right willing--strange if she were not!-- They say, Lord Clifford is a savage man; But, faith, to see him in his silken tunic, Fitting his low voice to the minstrel's harp, There's witchery in't. I never knew a maid That could withstand it. True," continued he, "When we arranged the affair, she wept a little (Not the less welcome to my Lord for that) And said, 'My Father he will have it so.'"
MARMADUKE I am your hearer.
OSWALD This I caught, and more That may not be retold to any ear.
The obstinate bolt of a small iron door Detained them near the gateway of the Castle.
By a dim lantern's light I saw that wreaths Of flowers were in their hands, as if designed For festive decoration; and they said, With brutal laughter and most foul allusion, That they should share the banquet with their Lord And his new Favorite.
MARMADUKE Misery!--
OSWALD I knew How you would be disturbed by this dire news, And therefore chose this solitary Moor, Here to impart the tale, of which, last night, I strove to ease my mind, when our two Comrades, Commissioned by the Band, burst in upon us.
MARMADUKE Last night, when moved to lift the avenging steel, I did believe all things were shadows--yea, Living or dead all things were bodiless, Or but the mutual mockeries of body, Till that same star summoned me back again.
Now I could laugh till my ribs ached. Fool!
To let a creed, built in the heart of things, Dissolve before a twinkling atom!--Oswald, I could fetch lessons out of wiser schools Than you have entered, were it worth the pains.
Young as I am, I might go forth a teacher, And you should see how deeply I could reason Of love in all its shapes, beginnings, ends; Of moral qualities in their diverse aspects; Of actions, and their laws and tendencies.
OSWALD You take it as it merits--
MARMADUKE One a King, General or Cham, Sultan or Emperor, Strews twenty acres of good meadow-ground With carcases, in lineament and shape And substance, nothing differing from his own, But that they cannot stand up of themselves; Another sits i' th' sun, and by the hour Floats kingcups in the brook--a Hero one We call, and scorn the other as Time's spendthrift; But have they not a world of common ground To occupy--both fools, or wise alike, Each in his way?
OSWALD Troth, I begin to think so.
MARMADUKE Now for the corner-stone of my philosophy: I would not give a denier for the man Who, on such provocation as this earth Yields, could not chuck his babe beneath the chin, And send it with a fillip to its grave.
OSWALD Nay, you leave me behind.
MARMADUKE That such a One, So pious in demeanour! in his look So saintly and so pure!--Hark'ee, my Friend, I'll plant myself before Lord Clifford's Castle, A surly mastiff kennels at the gate, And he shall howl and I will laugh, a medley Most tunable.