JOHN (musing). No:-Men will say I fear'd him, if I kill'd him. Feeling a sweet security. No doubt My secret shall remain a virgin for you!- For once you are mistaken in your man. Then, northward ho! such tricks as we shall play ACT IV. An Apartment in Woodvil Hall. JOHN WOODVIL (alone). A weight of wine lies heavy on my head, Preacheth of temperance, no sermon better. Some men are full of choler, when they are drunk; SCENE II. The Forest. SIR WALTER, SIMON, LOVEL, GRAY. LOVEL. Come, Sir, you had best surrender fairly. We know you, Sir. Father, why do you cover your face with your hands? Why do you fetch your breath so hard? See, villains, his heart is burst! O villains, he cannot speak. One of you run for some water: quickly, ye knaves; will ye have your throats cut? [They both slink off] How is it with you, Sir Walter? Look up, Sir, the villains are gone, He hears me not, and this deep disgrace of treachery in his son hath touched him even to the death. O most distuned and distempered world, where sons talk their aged fathers into their graves! Garrulous and diseased world, and still empty, rotten and hollow talking world, where good men decay, states turn round in an endless mutability, and still for the worse: nothing is at a stay. nothing abides but vanity, chaotic vanity.-Brother, adieu! There lies the parent stock which gave us life, Sir, we are sorry we cannot return your French Grief and a true remorse abide with thee. salutation. [Bears in the body And what should Margaret do in the forest? O Woodvil, man enfeoffed to despair! Take thy farewell of peace. O never look again to see good days, No tongue must speak to him, no tongue of man SCENE IV. SANDFORD, MARGARET (as from a journey). SANDFORD. The violence of the sudden mischance hath so As of an assured friend, whom in the forgetfulness of his fortunes he passed by. See him you must; but not to-night. The newness of the sight shall move the bitterest compunction and the truest remorse; but afterwards, trust me, dear lady, the happiest effects of a returning peace, and a gracious comfort, to him, to you, and all of us. MARGARET. I think he would not deny me. He hath ere this received farewell letters from his brother, who hath taken a resolution to estrange himself, for a time, from country, friends, and kindred, and to seek occupation for his sad thoughts in travelling in foreign places, where sights remote and extern to himself may draw from him kindly and not painful ruminations. SANDFORD. An hour past sun-set. You shall first refresh your MARGARET. A good rest to us all. wrought in him, who by nature is allied to nothing limbs (tired with travel) with meats and some cordial less than a self-debasing humor of dejection, that I have never seen anything more changed and spirit- wine, and then betake your no less wearied mind to broken. He hath, with a peremptory resolution, dis- repose. missed the partners of his riots and late hours, denied his house and person to their most earnest solicitings, and will be seen by none. He keeps ever alone, and his grief (which is solitary) does not so much seem to possess and govern in him, as it is by him,| with a wilfulness of most manifest affection, entertained and cherished. MARGARET. How bears he up against the common rumor? Thanks, lady. SANDFORD. ACT V. SCENE I. JOHN WOODVIL (dressing). JOHN. How beautiful, Which other mourners use? as, namely, These your submissions to my low estate, Good thoughts, and frequent sighs, and seldom smiles, Write bitter things 'gainst my unworthiness. A cleaving sadness native to the brow, All sweet condolements of like-grieved friends, (That steal away the sense of loss almost), Men's pity, and good offices Which enemies themselves do for us then, As we put off our high thoughts and proud looks. And pointing to the pictures where they hung, (As Hugh de Widville, Walter, first of the name, But that was in old times. Now, no more Must I grow proud upon our house's pride. And fashions of the world when he was young: To give you in your stead a better self! You mounted on your sprightly steed, White Margery, And all my maidens gave my heart for lost. Seven years I had wasted in the bosom of France: Did John salute his love, being newly seen. And praised it in a youth. JOHN. MARGARET. Wilt go to church, John? JOHN. I have been there already. MARGARET. How canst say thou hast been there already? The bells are only now ringing for morning service, and hast thou been at church already? JOHN. I left my bed betimes, I could not sleep, And the first object I discern'd Was the glistering spire of St. Mary Ottery. Well, John. MARGARET. JOHN. Then I remember'd 't was the sabbath-day. To go to church and pray with Christian people. And I began to pray, and found I could pray; Now Margaret weeps herself. [A noise of bells heard. And, thinking so, I wept a second flood Hark the bells, John. MARGARET. JOHN. Those are the church-bells of St. Mary Ottery. More poignant than the first; But afterwards was greatly comforted. It seem'd, the guilt of blood was passing from me Even in the act and agony of tears, 51 212 And all my sins forgiven. The Witch; A DRAMATIC SKETCH OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. CHARACTERS. So saying, she departed, Leaving Sir Francis like a man, beneath Old Servant in the Family of SIR FRANCIS FAIRFORD. Whose feet a scaffolding was suddenly falling; STRANGER. SERVANT. ONE summer night, Sir Francis, as it chanced, Among those aged oaks, said to have been planted By a neighboring prior of the Fairford name. Some say he shoved her rudely from the gate ("T was partly like a woman's voice, She nothing said but this : (Sir Francis told the words) A mischief, mischief, mischief, By day and by night, to the caitiff wight. So he described it. And sure I think He bore his death-wound like a little child; And, when they ask'd him his complaint, he laid And thereupon Sir Francis call'd to mind All this and more at her death. STRANGER. I do not love to credit tales of magic. Heaven's music, which is Order, seems unstrung. (The mystery of God) unbeautified, Disorder'd, marr'd, where such strange things are acted. |