The Mysterious Mother/Act 2 Scene 2
[A procession of children of both sexes, neatly cloathed in a white and blue uniform, issue from the castle, followed by friar Martin, and advance towards the stage door. They stop, and the children repeat the following hymn, part of which they should have sung within the castle.]
SCENE II.
FLORIAN, EDMUND, MARTIN, Orphans.
I.
Throne of justice! lo! we bend.
Thither dare our hopes ascend,
Where seraphs, wrapt in light'ning rays,
Dissolve in mercy's tender blaze.
Throne of justice! lo! we bend.
Thither dare our hopes ascend,
Where seraphs, wrapt in light'ning rays,
Dissolve in mercy's tender blaze.
II.
Hear us! harmless orphans hear!
For her who dries our falling tear.
Hush her sorrows; calm her breast:
Give her, what she gives us, rest.
Hear us! harmless orphans hear!
For her who dries our falling tear.
Hush her sorrows; calm her breast:
Give her, what she gives us, rest.
III.
Guard our spotless souls from sin!
Grant us virtue's palm to win!
Cloath the penitent with grace;
And guilt's foul spots efface! efface!
Guard our spotless souls from sin!
Grant us virtue's palm to win!
Cloath the penitent with grace;
And guilt's foul spots efface! efface!
EDMUND.
I'll speak to them.
Sweet children—or thou sanctified conductor,
Give me to know what solemn pilgrimage,
What expiation of offences past,
Thus sadly ye perform? In whose behoof
To win a blessing, raise these little suppliants
Their artless hands to heav'n? Pray pardon too
A soldier's curiosity.
I'll speak to them.
Sweet children—or thou sanctified conductor,
Give me to know what solemn pilgrimage,
What expiation of offences past,
Thus sadly ye perform? In whose behoof
To win a blessing, raise these little suppliants
Their artless hands to heav'n? Pray pardon too
A soldier's curiosity.
MARTIN.
The dew
Of grace and peace attend your steps. You seem
A stranger, or you could but know, sir knight,
That Narbonne's pious countess dwells within;
A lady most disconsolate. Her lord,
Her best-beloved, by untimely fate
Was snatch'd away in lusty life's full 'vantage—
But no account made up! no absolution!
Hence scant the distance of a mile he fell.
His weeping relict o'er his spot of doom
A goodly cross erected. Thither we,
At his year's mind, in sad and solemn guise,
Proceed to chant our holy dirge, and offer
Due intercession for his soul's repose.
The dew
Of grace and peace attend your steps. You seem
A stranger, or you could but know, sir knight,
That Narbonne's pious countess dwells within;
A lady most disconsolate. Her lord,
Her best-beloved, by untimely fate
Was snatch'd away in lusty life's full 'vantage—
But no account made up! no absolution!
Hence scant the distance of a mile he fell.
His weeping relict o'er his spot of doom
A goodly cross erected. Thither we,
At his year's mind, in sad and solemn guise,
Proceed to chant our holy dirge, and offer
Due intercession for his soul's repose.
EDMUND.
'Tis fitly done. And dar'd a voice profane
Join in the chorus of your holy office,
Myself would kneel for Narbonne's peace.
'Tis fitly done. And dar'd a voice profane
Join in the chorus of your holy office,
Myself would kneel for Narbonne's peace.
MARTIN.
Young sir,
It glads my soul to hear such pious breathings
From one, whose occupation rarely scans
The distance 'twixt enjoyment and the tomb.
Say, didst thou know the count?
Young sir,
It glads my soul to hear such pious breathings
From one, whose occupation rarely scans
The distance 'twixt enjoyment and the tomb.
Say, didst thou know the count?
EDMUND.
I knew his son.
I knew his son.
MARTIN.
Count Edmund? Where sojourns he?
Count Edmund? Where sojourns he?
EDMUND.
In the grave.
In the grave.
MARTIN.
Is Edmund dead? Say, how?
Is Edmund dead? Say, how?
EDMUND.
He fell at Buda:
And not to his dishonour.
He fell at Buda:
And not to his dishonour.
MARTIN.
(Welcome sounds! [Aside.
I must know more of this)—Proceed, my children;
Short of the cross I'll overtake your steps.
(Welcome sounds! [Aside.
I must know more of this)—Proceed, my children;
Short of the cross I'll overtake your steps.
ORPHAN GIRL.
Oh! father, but I dare not pass without you
By the church-porch. They say the count sits there,
With clotted locks, and eyes like burning stars.
Indeed I dare not go.
Oh! father, but I dare not pass without you
By the church-porch. They say the count sits there,
With clotted locks, and eyes like burning stars.
Indeed I dare not go.
Other CHILDREN.
Nor I. Nor I.
Nor I. Nor I.
MARTIN.
My loves, he will not harm such innocents.
But wait me at the bridge: I'll strait be with ye.
[Children go out reluctantly.
My loves, he will not harm such innocents.
But wait me at the bridge: I'll strait be with ye.
[Children go out reluctantly.
FLORIAN.
I marvel, father, gravity like yours
Should yield assent to tales of such complexion;
Permitting them in baby fantasy
To strike their dangerous root.
I marvel, father, gravity like yours
Should yield assent to tales of such complexion;
Permitting them in baby fantasy
To strike their dangerous root.
MARTIN.
I marvel not,
That levity like yours, unhallow'd boy,
Should spend its idle shaft on serious things.
Your comrade's bearing warrants no such licence.
I marvel not,
That levity like yours, unhallow'd boy,
Should spend its idle shaft on serious things.
Your comrade's bearing warrants no such licence.
FLORIAN.
Think'st thou, because my friend with humble fervour
Kneels to Omnipotence, each gossip's dream,
Each village-fable domineers in turn
His brain's distemper'd nerves? Think'st thou a soldier
Must by his calling be an impious braggart?
Or being not, a superstitious slave?
True valour, owning no preheminence
In equals, dares not wag presumption's tongue
Against high heav'n.
Think'st thou, because my friend with humble fervour
Kneels to Omnipotence, each gossip's dream,
Each village-fable domineers in turn
His brain's distemper'd nerves? Think'st thou a soldier
Must by his calling be an impious braggart?
Or being not, a superstitious slave?
True valour, owning no preheminence
In equals, dares not wag presumption's tongue
Against high heav'n.
MARTIN.
In us respect heav'n's servants.
In us respect heav'n's servants.
FLORIAN.
Monks may reach heav'n, but never came from thence.
[Violent form of thunder and lightening.
Monks may reach heav'n, but never came from thence.
[Violent form of thunder and lightening.
MARTIN.
Will this convince thee! Where's the gossip's dream?
The village-fable now? Hear heav'n's own voice
Condemn impiety!
Will this convince thee! Where's the gossip's dream?
The village-fable now? Hear heav'n's own voice
Condemn impiety!
FLORIAN.
Hear heav'n's own voice
Condemn imposture!
Hear heav'n's own voice
Condemn imposture!
EDMUND.
Here end your dispute.
The storm comes on.
Here end your dispute.
The storm comes on.
MARTIN.
Yes, you do well to check
Your comrade's profanation, left swift justice
O'ertake his guilt, and stamp his doom in thunder.
Yes, you do well to check
Your comrade's profanation, left swift justice
O'ertake his guilt, and stamp his doom in thunder.
FLORIAN.
Father, art thou so read in languages
Thou canst interpret th' inarticulate
And quarreling elements? What says the storm?
Pronounces it for thee or me? Do none
Dispute within the compass of its bolt
But we? Is the fame loud-voic'd oracle
Definitive for fifty various brawls?
Or but a shock of clouds to all but us?
"What if two drunkards at this instant hour
"Contend for preference of taste, one ranking
"The vines of Burgundy before the juice
"That dances in a foam of brilliant bubbles
"From Champagne's berries, think'st thou thunder speaks
"In favour of the white or ruby grape?"
Father, art thou so read in languages
Thou canst interpret th' inarticulate
And quarreling elements? What says the storm?
Pronounces it for thee or me? Do none
Dispute within the compass of its bolt
But we? Is the fame loud-voic'd oracle
Definitive for fifty various brawls?
Or but a shock of clouds to all but us?
"What if two drunkards at this instant hour
"Contend for preference of taste, one ranking
"The vines of Burgundy before the juice
"That dances in a foam of brilliant bubbles
"From Champagne's berries, think'st thou thunder speaks
"In favour of the white or ruby grape?"
MARTIN.
What mockery! I resign thee to thy fate— [Going.
What mockery! I resign thee to thy fate— [Going.
[The Orphan-Children run in terrified.]
First ORPHAN.
O father, save us! save us! holy father.
O father, save us! save us! holy father.
MARTIN.
What means this panic?
What means this panic?
First ORPHAN.
Oh! a storm so dreadful!
Some demon rides in th' air.
Oh! a storm so dreadful!
Some demon rides in th' air.
MARTIN.
Undoubtedly.
Could ye distinguish ought?
Undoubtedly.
Could ye distinguish ought?
First ORPHAN.
I fell to earth,
And said the pray'r you taught me against spectres.
I fell to earth,
And said the pray'r you taught me against spectres.
MARTIN.
'Twas well—but none of you, had none the courage
To face the fiend?
'Twas well—but none of you, had none the courage
To face the fiend?
Second ORPHAN.
I wink'd, and saw the light'ning
Burst on the monument. The shield of arms
Shiver'd to splinters. E'er I could repeat
An Ave-Mary, down with hideous crash
The cross came tumbling—then I fled—
I wink'd, and saw the light'ning
Burst on the monument. The shield of arms
Shiver'd to splinters. E'er I could repeat
An Ave-Mary, down with hideous crash
The cross came tumbling—then I fled—
MARTIN.
Retire;
This is unholy ground. Acquaint the Countess.
I will not tarry long. [Ex. children.] Thou mouth accurst,
[To Florian.
Repent, and tremble! Wherefore hast thou drawn
On Narbonne's plains, already visited
By long calamity, new storms of horror?
The seasons change their course; th' afflicted hind
Bewails his blasted harvest. Meteors ride
The troubled sky, and chase the darken'd sun.
Heav'n vindicates its altars: tongues licentious
Have scoff'd our holy rites, and hidden sins
Have forc'd th' offended elements to borrow
Tremendous organs! Sixteen fatal years
Has Narbonne's province groan'd beneath the hand
Of desolation—for what crimes we know not!
To edge suspended vengeance art thou come?
Retire;
This is unholy ground. Acquaint the Countess.
I will not tarry long. [Ex. children.] Thou mouth accurst,
[To Florian.
Repent, and tremble! Wherefore hast thou drawn
On Narbonne's plains, already visited
By long calamity, new storms of horror?
The seasons change their course; th' afflicted hind
Bewails his blasted harvest. Meteors ride
The troubled sky, and chase the darken'd sun.
Heav'n vindicates its altars: tongues licentious
Have scoff'd our holy rites, and hidden sins
Have forc'd th' offended elements to borrow
Tremendous organs! Sixteen fatal years
Has Narbonne's province groan'd beneath the hand
Of desolation—for what crimes we know not!
To edge suspended vengeance art thou come?
EDMUND, preventing Florian.
My friend, reply not—Father, I lament
This casual jarring—let us crave your pardon.
I feel your country's woes: I lov'd count Edmund:
Revere his father's ashes. I will visit
The ruin'd monument—and at your leisure
Could wish some conf'rence with you.
My friend, reply not—Father, I lament
This casual jarring—let us crave your pardon.
I feel your country's woes: I lov'd count Edmund:
Revere his father's ashes. I will visit
The ruin'd monument—and at your leisure
Could wish some conf'rence with you.
MARTIN.
(This is well: [Aside.
I almost had forgotten)—Be it so.
Where is your haunt?
(This is well: [Aside.
I almost had forgotten)—Be it so.
Where is your haunt?
EDMUND.
A mile without the town:
Hard by St. Bridget's nunnery.
A mile without the town:
Hard by St. Bridget's nunnery.
MARTIN.
There expect me.
Aside.] (I must to Benedict)—Heav'n's peace be with you.
[Exeunt.
There expect me.
Aside.] (I must to Benedict)—Heav'n's peace be with you.
[Exeunt.