The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 71

OSWALD Murder!--what's in the word!-- I have no cases by me ready made To fit all deeds. Carry him to the Camp!-- A shallow project;--you of late have seen More deeply, taught us that the inst.i.tutes Of Nature, by a cunning usurpation Banished from human intercourse, exist Only in our relations to the brutes That make the fields their dwelling. If a snake Crawl from beneath our feet we do not ask A license to destroy him: our good governors Hedge in the life of every pest and plague That bears the shape of man; and for what purpose, But to protect themselves from extirpation?-- This flimsy barrier you have overleaped.

MARMADUKE My Office is fulfilled--the Man is now Delivered to the Judge of all things.

OSWALD Dead!

MARMADUKE I have borne my burthen to its destined end.

OSWALD This instant we'll return to our Companions-- Oh how I long to see their faces again!

[Enter IDONEA with Pilgrims who continue their journey.]

IDONEA (after some time) What, Marmaduke! now thou art mine for ever.

And Oswald, too!

(To MARMADUKE.) On will we to my Father With the glad tidings which this day hath brought; We'll go together, and, such proof received Of his own rights restored, his grat.i.tude To G.o.d above will make him feel for ours.

OSWALD I interrupt you?

IDONEA Think not so.

MARMADUKE Idonea, That I should ever live to see this moment!

IDONEA Forgive me.--Oswald knows it all--he knows, Each word of that unhappy letter fell As a blood drop from my heart.

OSWALD 'Twas even so.

MARMADUKE I have much to say, but for whose ear?--not thine.

IDONEA Ill can I bear that look--Plead for me, Oswald!

You are my Father's Friend.

(To MARMADUKE.) Alas, you know not, And never _can_ you know, how much he loved me.

Twice had he been to me a father, twice Had given me breath, and was I not to be His daughter, once his daughter? could I withstand His pleading face, and feel his clasping arms, And hear his prayer that I would not forsake him In his old age-- [Hides her face.]

MARMADUKE Patience--Heaven grant me patience!-- She weeps, she weeps--_my_ brain shall burn for hours Ere _I_ can shed a tear.

IDONEA I was a woman; And, balancing the hopes that are the dearest To womankind with duty to my Father, I yielded up those precious hopes, which nought On earth could else have wrested from me;--if erring, Oh let me be forgiven!

MARMADUKE I _do_ forgive thee.

IDONEA But take me to your arms--this breast, alas!

It throbs, and you have a heart that does not feel it.

MARMADUKE (exultingly) She is innocent. [He embraces her.]

OSWALD (aside) Were I a Moralist, I should make wondrous revolution here; It were a quaint experiment to show The beauty of truth-- [Addressing them.]

I see I interrupt you; I shall have business with you, Marmaduke; Follow me to the Hostel.

[Exit OSWALD.]

IDONEA Marmaduke, This is a happy day. My Father soon Shall sun himself before his native doors; The lame, the hungry, will be welcome there.

No more shall he complain of wasted strength, Of thoughts that fail, and a decaying heart; His good works will be balm and life to him.

MARMADUKE This is most strange!--I know not what it was, But there was something which most plainly said, That thou wert innocent.

IDONEA How innocent!-- Oh heavens! you've been deceived.

MARMADUKE Thou art a Woman To bring perdition on the universe.

IDONEA Already I've been punished to the height Of my offence.

[Smiling affectionately.]

I see you love me still, The labours of my hand are still your joy; Bethink you of the hour when on your shoulder I hung this belt.

[Pointing to the belt on which was suspended HERBERT'S scrip.]

MARMADUKE Mercy of Heaven! [Sinks.]

IDONEA What ails you? [Distractedly.]

MARMADUKE The scrip that held his food, and I forgot To give it back again!

IDONEA What mean your words?

MARMADUKE I know not what I said--all may be well.