The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 78

MARMADUKE (both returning) The dead have but one face.

(To himself.) And such a Man--so meek and unoffending-- Helpless and harmless as a babe: a Man, By obvious signal to the world's protection, Solemnly dedicated--to decoy him!--

IDONEA Oh, had you seen him living!--

MARMADUKE I (so filled With horror is this world) am unto thee The thing most precious, that it now contains: Therefore through me alone must be revealed By whom thy Parent was destroyed, Idonea!

I have the proofs!--

IDONEA O miserable Father!

Thou didst command me to bless all mankind; Nor to this moment, have I ever wished Evil to any living thing; but hear me, Hear me, ye Heavens!-- (kneeling) --may vengeance haunt the fiend For this most cruel murder: let him live And move in terror of the elements; The thunder send him on his knees to prayer In the open streets, and let him think he sees, If e'er he entereth the house of G.o.d, The roof, self-moved, unsettling o'er his head; And let him, when he would lie down at night, Point to his wife the blood-drops on his pillow!

MARMADUKE My voice was silent, but my heart hath joined thee.

IDONEA (leaning on MARMADUKE) Left to the mercy of that savage Man!

How could he call upon his Child!--O Friend!

[Turns to MARMADUKE.]

My faithful true and only Comforter.

MARMADUKE Ay, come to me and weep. (He kisses her.) (To ELDRED.) Yes, Varlet, look, The devils at such sights do clap their hands.

[ELDRED retires alarmed.]

IDONEA Thy vest is torn, thy cheek is deadly pale; Hast thou pursued the monster?

MARMADUKE I have found him.-- Oh! would that thou hadst perished in the flames!

IDONEA Here art thou, then can I be desolate?--

MARMADUKE There was a time, when this protecting hand Availed against the mighty; never more Shall blessings wait upon a deed of mine.

IDONEA Wild words for me to hear, for me, an orphan, Committed to thy guardianship by Heaven; And, if thou hast forgiven me, let me hope, In this deep sorrow, trust, that I am thine For closer care;--here, is no malady.

[Taking his arm.]

MARMADUKE There, _is_ a malady-- (Striking his heart and forehead.) And here, and here, A mortal malady.--I am accurst: All nature curses me, and in my heart _Thy_ curse is fixed; the truth must be laid bare.

It must be told, and borne. I am the man, (Abused, betrayed, but how it matters not) Presumptuous above all that ever breathed, Who, casting as I thought a guilty Person Upon Heaven's righteous judgment, did become An instrument of Fiends. Through me, through me, Thy Father perished.

IDONEA Perished--by what mischance?

MARMADUKE Beloved!--if I dared, so would I call thee-- Conflict must cease, and, in thy frozen heart, The extremes of suffering meet in absolute peace.

[He gives her a letter.]

IDONEA (reads) "Be not surprised if you hear that some signal judgment has befallen the man who calls himself your father; he is now with me, as his signature will shew: abstain from conjecture till you see me.

"HERBERT.

"MARMADUKE."

The writing Oswald's; the signature my Father's: (Looks steadily at the paper.) And here is yours,--or do my eyes deceive me?

You have then seen my Father?

MARMADUKE He has leaned Upon this arm.

IDONEA You led him towards the Convent?

MARMADUKE That Convent was Stone-Arthur Castle. Thither We were his guides. I on that night resolved That he should wait thy coming till the day Of resurrection.

IDONEA Miserable Woman, Too quickly moved, too easily giving way, I put denial on thy suit, and hence, With the disastrous issue of last night, Thy perturbation, and these frantic words.

Be calm, I pray thee!

MARMADUKE Oswald--

IDONEA Name him not.

[Enter Female Beggar.]

BEGGAR And he is dead!--that Moor--how shall I cross it?

By night, by day, never shall I be able To travel half a mile alone.--Good Lady!

Forgive me!--Saints forgive me. Had I thought It would have come to this!--

IDONEA What brings you hither? speak!

BEGGAR (pointing to MARMADUKE) This innocent Gentleman. Sweet heavens! I told him Such tales of your dead Father!--G.o.d is my judge, I thought there was no harm: but that bad Man, He bribed me with his gold, and looked so fierce.

Mercy! I said I know not what--oh pity me-- I said, sweet Lady, you were not his Daughter-- Pity me, I am haunted;--thrice this day My conscience made me wish to be struck blind; And then I would have prayed, and had no voice.

IDONEA (to MARMADUKE) Was it my Father?--no, no, no, for he Was meek and patient, feeble, old and blind, Helpless, and loved me dearer than his life --But hear me. For _one_ question, I have a heart That will sustain me. Did you murder him?