^ u v*^ \ .^^ .k--, ^^^^^- f ^^.^ ^^^^^ ^^^^''»^-^ yAm.. /^^-^^ e-^^^ «^^^,^^^72X,o^4gV ^, — ^^ ^'/^/^^y^- ^, ..^^ ^ ^ \ OT^^c^ ^^-^My ' - • ey>^>'-::f THE SEA-CAPTAIN; OR, THE BIRTHEIGHT. f BY THE SAME AUTHOR, In Octavo, RICHELIEU: In Five Acts. To which are added, HISTORICAL ODES ON THE LAST DAYS OF ELIZABETH, CROMWELL'S DREAM, THE DEATH OF NELSON. NINTH EDITION. THE LADY OF LYONS; OR, LOVE AND PRIDE : ^ 33la^ In Five Acts. TENTH EDITION. THE DUCHESS DE LA VALLIERE : In Five Acts. NEW EDITION. THE SEA-CAPTAIN; "''^^^ THE BIRTHRIGHT a fflrama IN FIVE ACTS. BY THE AUTHOR OF " THE LADY OF LYONS," " RICHELIEU," &C. " The Son of Fortune, she has sent him forth To thrive by the red sweat of his own merits." MiDDLETON. " Then triumph, Leon, richer in thy love Than all the hopes of treasure." Chapmak. LONDON : SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET. 1839. London : Printed by William Clowks and Sons, Stamford Street. TO THE EARL OF DURHAM THE AUTHOR DEDICATES THIS DRAMA; A SLIGHT TRIBUTE OF ADMIRATION FOR A CLASSICAL AND ACCOMPLISHED JUDG: IN ARTS AND LETTERS ; AND A SINCERE MEMORIAL OF PERSONAL RESPECT AND REGARD. October 23, 1839. 985(>05 Vll PREFACE. As in the *' Lady of Lyons" an attempt was made to illustrate the Republican soldier of the Italian cam- paign, a character peculiarly French — so in this play the Author has sought to delineate a character not less especially English, viz., the early, and, if I may so speak, the aboriginal, Sea-Captain, with the same gay and prodigal contempt of the commonplace ob- jects which landsmen covet and scheme for, that is still popularly attributed to his brethren, but with something also of the adventurous romance and poetic fancy with which the lingering chivalry of the Old World, and the first glimpses of the New, in- spired the wild and gallant contemporaries of Walter Raleigh. The varieties of our peculiar civilisation can exhibit no individuality so strikingly and imperishably national as that which has been formed by the mari- time spirit, and devoted to the maritime service, of our people.. Perhaps, too, in no aspect is the English character so attractive and so noble as in the great exemplars and maintainers of our naval glory. CoUingwood and Nelson were not more in deed than in thought the representatives and mirrors of ' Vlll PREFACE. a heroism loftier than that which is to be found in the portraits that, with harder outlines and half-fic- titious colours, adorn the gallery of Plutarch. If the character I attempt to sketch is necessarily idealized by the poetry that belongs to the Drama, I trust that it is not the less essentially true to Nature ; and that the Sea- Captain of Elizabeth's day will not be deemed an unworthy likeness of the forerunners and heralds of the glorious race that commenced with Blake, and found their most illustrious archetype in the gentle and daring heart — in the patriotism, disinterested and sublime — in the valour that was ever merciful — in the ambition that was never base — in all the memories of devoted life and heroic death, which, age after age, shall render not less holy than unfading the laurel and the cypress upon the tomb of Nelson. f PERSONS OF THE DRAMA, AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, HAYMARKET. OCTOBER 3\st, 1839. Men. Lord AsHDALE, son to Lady Arundel . . Mr. J. Webster. Sir Maurice Beevor, a reputed Miser, and though but distantly related to Lady Arun- del, the Heir-at-Law to the Titles and Es- tates, failing the children of the Countess Mr. Strickland. Norman, the Captain of a Ship of War . Mr. Macready. Falkner, his friend and Lieutenant . . Mr. Howe. Onslow, a Village Priest .... Mr. Phelps. Gaussen, a Pirate ..... Mr. O. Smith. Luke, a Pirate ..... Mr. Gallott. Servants, Sailors, Pirates, Sfc. Women. Lady Arundel, a Countess in her oivn right . Mrs. Warner. Violet, her Ward, and cousin to Lord Ash- dale by his father^ s side . . . Miss H. Faucit. Mistress Prudence .... Mrs. Clifford. Scene, — The North of Devon. Costume, — Towards the end of Elizabeth' s reigri. Time occupied by the action, one day. THE SEA-CAPTAIN; OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. ACT I. SCENE I. The exterior of a small inn hj the sea-coast ; the Castle of Arundel at a distance ; a boat drawn on the beach ; a ship at anchor. The door of the inn is open, and discovers Falkner and Sailors carous- ing within. Before a table in front of the stage — Giles Gaussen seated. Time, forenoon. LANDLORD (serving Gaussen, with a flask, S^c.) If this be not the best Canaries on the coa&t, I give thee leave to drovt^n me in my own butt. But it is dull work drinking alone, master; — wilt join the jolly fellows within ? gaussen. No. LANDLORD. A bluff customer. If his reckonings be as short as B 2 THE SEA-CAPTAIN ; [act i. his answers, he is not likely to die in debt to his land- lord. [Ea^it Landlord within the inn. GAUSSEN. Luke should be returned ere this; Sir Maurice would be eager eno' to see his old friend if he knew what news in the way of shot I carry in my locker. Humph ! Sir Walter Raleigh is a great man — and introduced tobacco ! (smokes.) SAILORS {within). Ha, ha! GAUSSEN. '':l!]o th^y man ! VIOLET. Yet he might envy thee ! NORMAN. Most arch reprover, yes ! — as kings themselves Might envy one wliose arm entwines thee thus ! [Eoceunt within the Castle. END OF ACT I. GENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 25 ACT II. SCENE I. A room in the Castle. Enter Servant, preceding Sir Maurice. SERVANT {insolently). You can take a seat, Sir Maurice ; my Lady is engaged. She will see you when her leisure suits. SIR MAURICE. What a modest, respectful, civil fellow it is ! you know behaviour to a man of quality, I see ; if I did not fear to corrupt thy morals, by this light I would give thee a penny. SERVANT (half aside). " A man of quality ! " — a beggarly poor cousin — marry, come up ! \_Eocit. SIR MAURICE. Ah, there it is, a beggarly poor cousin ! Up from my cradle, a poor beggarly cousin ! Butt for my Lord — convenience for my Lady — Jibe for the lackey. And men blame Sir Maurice For loving gold ! — My youth was drudged away In penury and dependence — manhood went In piling wealth that age might mount to power. How the sleek rogues would fawn on the poor cousin 26 THE SEA-CAPTAIN ; [act u. If they could peep into his money-chest ! Let Gaussen get the proofs, and half the lands Of this proud Countess scarce shall wring them from me ! Then let the spendthrift Percy be the heir, I'll get the other half in mortgages, Loans, and post obits. Ha, ha ! who will then be The beggarly poor cousin ? Enter Lady Arundel. I've despatch'd Gaussen to Onslow's house — Well, why so pale ? LADY ARUNDEL. He is beneath my roof — this youth, this Norman — My guest ! SIR MAURICE. Your guest ! {yindictwely) — The fly is in the web ! LADY ARUNDEL. Scarce had you left, when, lo ! he stood before me. I knew him ere he spoke — his father's eyes Look'd me to stone in his — I did not swoon, I did not tremble ! SIR MAURICE. Chut, chut! you dissembled Of course — you are a woman ! LADY ARUNDEL. What dark perils (ialher around me now ! SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 27 SIR MAURICE (whispering) . Remove him then While yet 'tis time. LADY ARUNDEL. Remove ? — thy stealthy voice Curdles my veins. Remove him? — yes; I have A scheme to make all safe. I learn, thro' Prudence, That he loves Violet — woo'd her months ago In the far Indian seas. 'Twas he who saved her When, homeward from the isle her father govern'd, Their ship was captured by the Algerine. SIR MAURICE (impatiently). Well, well ; — I see — you will befriend the suit ? LADY ARUNDEL. Ay, and promote the flight ! — To some fair clime In the New World the hurrying seas shall waft them. And I shall sleep in peace. SIR MAURICE. He loves the. girl ! What will thy Percy say — Hotspur the Second — When he discovers LADY ARUNDEL. Ere he learn the love, Their bark is on the deep. I dare not tarry. He is return'd — is with them now — a spark Would fire his jealous humour. Be at hand. Lest I may need thy aid. 28 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act ii. SIR MAURICE. Thou'rt on the abyss ! LADY ARUNDEL. But iny brain reels not, and my step is firm ! SIR MAURICE. In love with Violet ! I see, I see ; I'll set this fiery Percy on his rival. If one should perish by the sword, the other Dies by the law. Thanks to these proofs, I'll make The rival's contest seem the assassin's snare. Ha, ha ! were these men dead, I should be heir To Arundel and Ashdale. For the Countess — The worm's already at her heart ! Ah, shall I Then be a miser ? — Ho, there ! my Lord's lackeys ! — Room for the Earl of Arundel ! You dined ^ With the Earl yesterday ? A worthy Lord ! I'll marry a young bride, get heirs, and keep A lean poor cousin of my ovt^n to play At leapfrog with the little Maurices. Efiter Lord Ashdale (in disorder). ASHDALE. By Heavens ! this stranger's insolence would fire An anchorite's patience. 'Sdeath ! his hand press'd hers. His breathing fann'd her locks. sir MAURICE. How now, my Hector, My diamond, apple of my eye ? How now ? — Chafed, vexed? SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 29 ASHDALE. Home, home. Anatomy, and drive The mice from thy larder. SIR MAURICE. Mice ! — Zounds, how can I Keep mice ? — I can't afford it — they Avere starved To death an age ago ! — the last was found. Come Christmas three years, stretched beside a bone In that same larder — so consumed and worn By pious fast — 'twas awful to behold it ! I canonized its corpse in spirits of wine. And set it in the porch — a solemn warning To thieves and beggars. (Aside) Shall I be avenged — Shall I — for this ? Come, come, my pretty Percy ; ril tell thee why thou strid'st about a lion : — Dogs would invade thy bone. This stranger loves Thy Violet. ASHDALE. Loves her ! SIR MAURICE. And will win her too — Unless I help thee — for (but mum ! — no word of it) Thy mother backs his suit. — Thou art no match My innocent Percy, for a single woman ; But two — a virgin and a widow — would Have made King Solomon himself a ninny. ASHDALE. All Egypt's plagues confound this fellow ! Deaf Ev'n to affront. — He wards off all my taunts 30 THE SEA-CAFF AIN ; [act ii. With a blunt, ?ailorlike, and danm'd good humour That makes me seem, ev'n to myself, less like An angry rival than a saucy clown. SIR MAURICE. Be cool — be cool now — take a walk with me, And talk upon it. ASHDALE. Wilt thou really serve me ? SIR MAURICE. Ay, and for nothing too ! — you patient saints Make miracles. Ha, ha ! you like a jest On old Sir Maurice. All men joke upon The poor old cousin — ha, ha, ha ! — Come, Hotspur. \_Ed'eunt. SCENE H. ^ Gothic hall. — On one side a huge hearth, over which a scutcheon and old banners; the walls hung with armour and ancient portraits. — In the front of the stage a table spread with fruits and wine. Lady Arundel — Norman— -Violet. NORMAN. Ha, ha! in truth we made a scurvy figure After our shipwreck. SCENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 31 LADY ARUNDEL. You jest merrily At your misfortunes ! NORMAN. 'Tis the way with sailors ; Still in extremes. I can be sad sometimes. LADY ARUNDEL. Your wanderings have been long : your sight will bless Your parents ? NORMAN. Ah ! I never knew that w^ord. LADY ARUNDEL. Your voice has sorrow in its calm. If I In aught could serve you, trust me ! VIOLET. Trust her, Norman. Methinks in the sad tale of thy young years There's that which makes a friend, wherever Pity Lives, in the heart of woman. NORMAN {to Lady Arundel). Gentle lady, The key of some charm'd music in your voice Unlocks a long-closed chamber in my soul ; And would you listen to an outcast's tale, 'Tis briefly told. Until my fourteenth year. Beneath the roof of an old village priest. Nor far from hence, my childhood wore away. 32 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [acj Then waked within me anxious thoughts and deep. Throughout the liberal and melodious nature Something seem'd absent — what I scarcely knew — Till one cahn night, when over earth and wave Heaven look'd its love from all its numberless stars — Watciiful yet breathless — suddenly the sense Of my sweet want swelFd in me^ and I ask'd The priest, why I was motherless ! LADY ARUNDEL. And he? NORMAN. Wept as he answered, *' I was nobly born !" LADY ARUNDEL (aside). The traitor ! NORMAN. And that time would bring the hour, As yet denied, when from a dismal past Would dawn a luminous future. As he spake There gleam'd across my soul a dim remembrance Of a pale face in infancy beheld — A shadowy face, but from whose lips there breathed The words that none but mothers murmur ! LADY ARUNDEL. Oh, My heart, be still ! NORMAN. 'Twas at that time there came Into our hamlet a rude, jovial seaman. SCENE II ] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 33 With the frank mien boys welcome, and wild tales Of the far Indian lands, from which mine ear Drank envious wonder. Brief — his legends fired me, And from the deep, whose billows wash'd the shore On which our casements look'd, I heard a voice That woo'd me to its bosom : Raleigh's fame. The New World's marvels, then made old men heroes, And young men dreamers ! So I left my home With that wild seaman. LADY ARUNDEL. Ere you left, the priest Said nought to make less dark your lineage ? NORMAN. No; Nor did he chide my ardour. '' Go," he said ; *' Win for thyself a name that pride may envy. And pride, which is thy foe, will own thee yet !" LADY ARUNDEL. I breathe more freely ! NORMAN. Can you heed thus gently The stranger's tale ? Your colour comes and goes. LADY ARUNDEL. Your story moves me much : pray you, resume. I NORMAN. The villain whom I trusted, when we reached The bark he ruled, cast me to chains and darkness. 34 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act ii. And so to sea. At length, no land in sight. His crew, dark swarthy men — the refuse crimes Of many lands — (for he, it seems, a pirate) — Call'd me on deck — struck off my fetters : " Boy," He said, and grimly smiled ; " not mine the wrong: Thy chains are forged from gold, the gold of those Who gave thee birth !" LADY ARUNDEL. A lie ! a hideous lie ! Be sure a lie ! NORMAN. I answer'd so, and wrench'd From his own hand the blade it bore, and struck The slanderer to my feet. With that a shout, A hundred knives gleam'd round me ; but the pirate. Wiping the gore from his gash'd brow, cried, " Hold ; 8uch death were mercy." — Then they grip'd and bound me To a slight plank ; spread to the wind their sails ; And left me on the waves alone with God ! VIOLET {taking Ms hand). My heart melts in my eyes : — and He preserved thee ! NORMAN. That day, and all that night, upon the seas Toss'd the frail barrier between life and death. Heaven lull'd the gales ; and, when the stars came forth, All look'd so bland and gentle that I wept, Recaird that wretch's words, and murmur'd, '* Wave I SCENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 35 And wind are kinder than a parent." Lady, Dost th(m weep also ? LADY ARUNDEL. Do I ? Nay, go on ! NORMAN. Day dawn'd, and, glittering in the sun, behold A sail — a flag ! VIOLET. Well, well. NORMAN. It pass'd away. And saw me not. Noon, and then thirst and famine ; And, with parch 'd lips, I calPd on death, and sought To wrench my limbs from the stiff cords that gnaw'd Into the flesh, and drop into the deep ; And then methought I saw, beneath the clear And crystal lymph, a dark, swift-moving thing, With watchful glassy eyes, — the ocean-monster That follows ships for prey. Then life once more Grew sweet, and with a strain'd and horrent gaze, And lifted hair, I floated on, till sense Grew dim and dimlier, and a terrible sleep — In which still — still — those livid eyes met mine — Fell on me, and VIOLET. Go on ! d2 36 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act ii. NORMAN. I woke, and heard My native tongue. Kind looks were bent upon me : I ] ay on deck — escaped the ghastly death ; For God had watch'd the sleeper ! VIOLET {half aside). My own Norman ! NORMAN. 'Twas a brave seaman, who with Raleigh served. That own'd the ship. Beneath his fostering eyes I fought and laboured upward. At his death — [A death, may such be mine ! — a hero's death ! — The blue flag waving o'er the victory won !] — He left me the sole heir to all his wealth, — Some sacks of pistoles — his good frigate — and His honest name I ( To Violet.) Fair maid, the happiest deed That decks my life thou knowest ! LADY ARUNDEL. And the priest : Hast thou not seen him since ye parted ? NORMAN. No; But two short days return'd to these dear shores. (^^iW^ ^0 Violet.) Those eyes the guiding stars by which I steer 'd. SCENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 37 [Violet aW Norman converse a'part. LADY ARUNDEL {gaZW g 071 tJieHfl) . He loves — yes, there my hope ! Ha ! Percy's voice ! I must beguile or blind him. One day more. And all is safe. Fair Sir, anon I join you. [Eccit, VIOLET. And thou hast loved me thus ? NORMAN. Thus, Violet ; nay, — For viT'hen had true love words for all its secrets ? In some sweet night, becalm'd upon the deep, I The blue air breathless in the starry peace. After long silence, hush'd as heaven, but fill'd With happy thoughts as heaven with angels, thou Shalt lift thine eyes to mine, and with a glance ........ VIOLET. I Not lonely, Norman : Not lonely, henceforth : / shall be with thee ! Where'er thou goest, my soul is ; and thy love Has grown life's life. To see thee, hear thee, dream Of thee when absent — to bear all — brave all — By thy dear side ; — this has become my nature — Thy shadow, deepening as thy day declines. And dying when thou settest. 38 THE SEA-CAPTAIN ; [act ii. NORMAN. Heaven desert me If by one cold look I should ever chill The woman heart within thee ! VIOLET. So, my Norman, In cloud, or sunshine — labour as repose — Meek tho* I be, and lowly, — thou slialt find This courage of my sex, that bears all change Save change in thee — and never breathes one murmur, Unless it be a prayer to guard my Norman ! NORMAN. My bride — my blessing — my adored ! jEJw^^r ASHDALE. ASHDALE. Gramercy ! I well escaped to meet my lady mother ! This tale of the old knight has fired my blood. I would not see her in this mood — {turning and perceiving Violet and Norman) By heavens ! Whispering ! — so close ! — {approaching) Familiar sir — excuse me : I do not see the golden spurs of knighthood — NORMAN {aside) . These landsmen, who would shake if the wind blew, Are mighty quarrelsome. The golden spurs ! t SCENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 39 He thinks we ride on horseback thro' the seas ! Alas ! we sailors have not so much gokl That we should waste it on our heels. ASHDALE. D ye jest, sir? VIOLET. Oh cousin, fie ! ASHDALE (^mimickiufr her). Oil cousin, fie ! — sir, mark me : There's one too many present — NORMAN (aside). On my life I think with him ! — he might remove the objection ! — ASHDALE. Good Master Norman, in the seneschal's hall You'll find your equals. NORMAN. Haughty lord, not so. He who calls me his equal first must prove His arm as strong — his blade as keen — his heart As calm in peril ! — ^tush ! put up thy sword. He not my equal who insults his guest. And seeks his safety in the eyes of woman. Enter Lady Arundel. 40 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act ii. VIOLET. Protect your guest from your rasli son ! LADY ARUNDEL. Lord Ashdale — These humours wrong your birth. To you, sir stranger. Have I in aught so fail'd that in the son You should rebuke the mother ? NORMAN. Ask your son If I was prompt to ansvver scorn by strife ! ASHDALE. Nay, it is true, more prompt in taking licenc^ Than courting chastisement ! NORMAN. You hear him, lady. LADY ARUNDEL. Ashdale, be ruled — my best beloved — my child, Forbear — you — ASHDALE {quickly). Learn'd in childhood from my mother To brook no rival, and to fear no foe ! I am too old to alter now. Observe me : You thwart my suit to Violet — you defend This insolent stranger. Mother, take my counsel : Despatch him hence and straight, or, by mine honour. Blood will be shed. — Beware ! SCENE n] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 41 LADY ASHDALE. Blood ! blood ! whose blood ? ASHDALE. Not mine — for noble knighthood is too holy For varlet weapons ! — not your son's — LADY ARUNDEL. My son's ! ASHDALE. Look to it, mother ! — We may meet again, sir. Fie, mother ! pale ? — Beshrew me, but those eyes Look fondly on the knave ! [Ejcit The serpent's tooth !- LADY ARUNDEL. O, sharper than NORMAN. Sweet hostess, do not fear me ; There is a something in your looks that melts The manhood in me back to second childhood. Let him rail on — he is your son, and safe From the poor stranger's sword. LADY ARUNDEL. Go, Violet, — No, stay — come back — I know thy secret, girl — Thou lovest this Norman ? 42 THE SEA-CAPTAIN ; [act ii. My life and honour- VIOLET. Lady — I — he saved LADY ARUNDEL. Joy ! — oh, joy ! retire And trust in me — [Ea:it Violet. LADY ARUNDEL. Now, sir — {aside) Alas ! alas ! How like to his dead father ! NORMAN. Speak — command, And learn how thou canst move me ! LADY ARUNDEL. I'm a mother ! I live but for this boy — heart, life, and soul, Are interweaved with his ! NORMAN. How sweet to hear How mothers love their sons ! LADY ARUNDEL. He is proud and fiery. Quick to affront, slow to forgive. Nay, more : Ashdale hath set his heart where thine is placed ; The air both breathe seems blood-red to my eyes. Fly with her !— fly, this night ! SCENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 43 NORMAN. This night, with her ? Rapture! With Violet? LADY ARUNDEL. You consent ? NORMAN. And yet My birth untrack'd — LADY ARUNDEL. Oh, lose not for a doubt Your certain bliss ; — and, heed me — I have wealth To sharpen law, and power to ripen justice ; — I will explore the mazes of this mystery — I — I will track your parents ! NORMAN. Blessed lady ! What have I done, that thou shouldst care for Norman ? My parents ! — find me one with eyes like thine, And, were she lowliest of the hamlet born, I would not change with monarchs. LADY ARUNDEL. Mighty Nature ! Why speak'st thou thus to him, yet dumb to me ? What is there in these haggard looks to charm thee. Young stranger ? 44 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [aci ii. NORMAN. Madam, when I gaze upon thee, Methinks an angel's hand lifts up the veil Of Time — the Great Magician ; and I see A face like thine bent o'er my infant couch, And — pardon me — it is a vain, wild thought — I know it is — but on my faith, I think My mother was like thee ! LADY ARUNDEL. Like me ! ha, ha ! Most foolish thought. (Aside) I shall go mad with terror If here he linger longer. Well, your ship Is nigh at hand ; you can embark to-night. NORMAN. So soon — so soon all mine ! — In distant years, Tho' we may meet no more — when thou, fair dame. Hast lost ev'n memory of the stranger — o'er The lonely deep, morning and night, shall rise His prayer for thee. LADY ARUNDEL. Thou, thou ! — a prayer for me ? Will Heaven record it ? Nature rushes on me — I cannot — I — forgive me ; ere you part We meet again, and — [^Rushes out. SCENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 45 NORMAN. When I spoke of prayer Her lip grew white. What is there in this woman That half divides my thoughts with Violet's love ? Strange, while I muse, a chill and solemn awe Creeps to my heart. Away, ye ill-timed omens ! Violet, at thy dear name the phantoms vanish. And the glad Future breaks, a Fairy Isle, — Thy voice its music, and thy smile its heaven ! END OF ACT II 46 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act iii. ACT III. SCENE I. The Gardens of the Castle — a different part from that in Act I. MISTRESS PRUDENCE. Who would have thought the proud Countess would have been so pleased with the love of this wild Captain for my young lady ? I think he must have given her some of the golden ointment too ! But anything to thwart the suit of the young Lord. She expects him to marry no one less than a princess I suppose. Enter Sir Maurice. SIR MAURICE. Ugh ! ugh ! Have you seen Lord Ashdale pass this way ? MISTRESS PRUDENCE. No, your Worship ! SIR MAURICE {caressingly). So this sea-Captain is making love to your pretty charge. Mistress Prudence ! I suppose, between you and me, there will be a marriage in the family. MISTRESS PRUDENCE. I am sure, Sir Maurice, I shall not say you nay. SIR MAURICE. Say me nay ? I never offered thee anything. SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 47 MISTRESS PRUDENCE. I thought you said " between you and me there was to be a marriage in the family.*' We might do a sillier thing, Sir Maurice. Better marry than do worse. SIR MAURICE. Worse ! — Go and do your worst. I defy your seduc- tions, you antiquated Dalilah. Hence ; and if you chance on Lord Ashdale, say I would see him. MISTRESS PRUDENCE. If you should be serious, Sir Maurice, in your pro- SIR MAURICE. Pish! — am I to be your jibe too? — \Eiccit Mrs. Prudence, laughing.^ Every new slight I receive in this household I treasure up here — here ! Enter Gaussen. Ha — so soon returned ! hast thou seen the priest ? — hast thou got the proofs ? — hast thou — gaussen. The priest left his house this morning an hour ere I arrived, in company with a stranger, who, from what I could learn, is a seaman : but the description does not suit the one we look after. SIR MAURICE. I see the lands of Arundel dropping from my gripe — but, no — no ! if I miss the proofs, I will secure the claimant. Giles Gaussen, this day five-and-twenty 48 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act in. years ago, didst thou not commit a crime that, if told, would bring thee to the scaffold ? — Go to'! — unless this Norman die, the hemp is spun that will fit thee with a halter. GAUSSEN. I would I had the boy once more in my clutches. Think you I have forgiven him for this gash ? Till then, the wenches (curse them !) did not mock at me — and — no matter ! But what is he to the dead man ? Thou told'st me it was his parents who paid me the gold to rid them of him. SIR MAURICE. Why, hark, I will tell thee — hush ! what's that? — get aside — it is he himself — quick ! — [ Thei/ hide amidst the trees. Enter Norman and Violet. ' VIOLET. What, Norman, she consents ? NORMAN. Yes, tremble not. My best beloved. VIOLET. I tremble lest hereafter Thou deem*st me over bold. NORMAN. Not bold, but trustful As love is ever! — Nay, be soothed, and think SCENE I.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 49 Of the bright lands within the western main. Where we will build our home, what time the seas Weary thy gaze ; — there the broad palm-tree shades The soft and delicate light of skies as fair As those that slept on Eden ; — Nature, there, Like a gay spendthrift in his flush of youth. Flings her whole treasure in the lap of Time. — On turfs by fairies trod, the eternal Flora Spreads all her blooms ; and from a lake-like sea Wooes to her odorous haunts the western wind ! While, circling round and upward from the boughs, Golden with fruits that lure the joyous birds. Melody, like a happy soul released. Hangs in the air, and from invisible plumes Shakes sweetness down ! — Enter Lady Arundel. LADY ARUNDEL. Ye have fix'd the hour and place For flight — this night ? NORMAN. Why, Lady, no ; as yet The blush upon her cheek at thought of flight Lingers like dawn in heaven, — but like the dawn The blush foretells the smile the heaven shall wear ! LADY ARUNDEL. Trifle not — Ashdale is no dull-eyed rival ; — If he suspect — 50 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act iii. NORMAN {fiercely.) What then ? LADY ARUNDEL. So hot ! forget you Your word to waive all contest ? — No — that glance Does answer " No." — And now, fair sir — this letter To the Venetian goldsmith, Paolo Trezzi, Yields you this lady's dower; for from these halls Never went bride without her portion. NORMAN. Lady, Ye who have dwelt upon the sordid land, Amidst the everlasting gloomy war Of Poverty with Wealth — ^ye cannot know How we, the wild sons of the Ocean, mock At men who fret out life with care for gold. f ! the fierce sickness of the soul — to see Love bought and sold — and all the heaven-roofd temple Of God's great globe^ the money-change of Mammon ! 1 dream of love, enduring faith, a heart Mingled with mine — a deathless heritage Which I can take unsullied to the stars. When the Great Father calls his children home ; — And in the midst of this Elysian dream, Lo, Gold — the demon Gold ! — alas ! the creeds Of the false land!— LADY ARUNDEL. And once I thought like him ! SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 51 Ah ! happy Violet ! — {more coldly) well — of this here- after. What hour can boat and boatmen wait your orders ? NORMAN. The favouring moon breaks one hour ere the midnight. LADY ARUNDEL. Meet where the Castle chase, by the last gate. Slopes to the ocean-beach — NORMAN. Ay — as I took That path this morn, I saw the scathed ruins Of an old chapel on the spot you name ; — Meet me there, Violet — LADY ARUNDEL. Ha — within that chapel I NORMAN. Is it not holy ground ? LADY ARUDNEL (impatiently). Well^ well — begone, And meet one hour ere midnight — VIOLET. Let us wait And hope, dear Norman — E 2 52 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act in. LADY ARUNDEL. " Hope," girl ! he must quit These halls this day — would you his blood ? — VIOLET. The love I bear thee steals so little from the earth, I cannot think it err because its faith Will not nurse fear ; — to-night, then — ^but, alas ! See the sky lowers — the nights are dark — NORMAN. Nay, then. Streams o'er our path the Planet Saint of lovers : And mark this white plume with the sparkling gem, Pluck'd from the turban of the Algerine That happy day — so thou shalt see the token Gleam thro' the shadows. VIOLET. Yet— NORMAN. On board my bark We boast a reverend priest — who shall attend To consecrate our vows ! LADY ARUNDEL. Come ! to your chamber I'll with thee and allay all fear ; hark I steps ! Go, sir — let Ashdale find thee not ! — remember Thy word ; and so farewell and prosper. m SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 53 NORMAN. "*. Ah! Shall we not meet again ? — God's blessing on thee ! Wilt thou not bless me too ? {Kissing her hand,) LADY ASHDALE. I ! — Heaven will bless thee. {Pressing his hand convulsively .) [Exeunt Lady Ashdale aw^/ Violet. NORMAN. Now could I linger here whole hours ; and dream — Of what ? — ^well, Falkner has return'd ere this. Enter Servant. SERVANT. A cavalier, arrived in haste, demands An audience, sir. NORMAN. Of me ? SERVANT. Upon the instant. He bade me name him "Falkner." NORMAN. Falkner! Ever Ready in need — admit him : sure true Friendship Is a magician — and foretels our wishes. Enter Falkner. Welcome, thrice welcome. Listen to me — bid Our boat attend me on the beach belov^^ 54 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act iii. Close by a ruin'd chapel — where the sea Washes the forest's farthest verge — one hour Before night's last : our chaplain too is needed. See to it — quick ! — away ! FALKNER. Piano, friend — As the Italians phrase it — slow and sure. I've famous news ; — ^the priest I sought and found, And left him near these halls. He has the proofs (And will reveal them) of thy birth — thy name. Well ; art thou dumb ? NORMAN. O Heavens ! for this one day Thou mak'st life bankrupt in its blessings ! — He ? Onslow — art sure ? — FALKNER. Some men may know their names, Tho' t/ou do not. He told me his was Onslow. NORMAN. Where shall I seek him ? FALKNER. By the very chapel Thou spok'st of ! — NORMAN. / Is this destiny ? SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 55 FALKNER. And wouldst thou Have me still see thine orders — f NORMAN. To the letter. The boat — ^the chaplain — send to the ship and bid it Veer round — in sight of the beach — before the hour. FALKNER. Explain — NORMAN. No time for words, dear Falkner — go ! [Ea:it Falkner. Enter Mistress Prudence. MISTRESS prudence. Sir Maurice ! — Where's Sir Maurice ? — Have you seen Sir Maurice here ? NORMAN. A fico for Sir Maurice ! Ah ! Mistress Prudence, when we meet again, Poor Captain Norman may be Captain Croesus ! Oh, Violet ! birth and wealth were sweet indeed^ If they could make me worthier to possess thee. [Ea!it. [Sir Maurice comes forth. MISTRESS prudence Where have you hid yourself, sir ? 56 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act iii. SIR MAURICE. Hid myself! Am I a man to hide myself ? MISTRESS PRUDENCE. The Countess Requires your presence on the instant-; I Said you were — Ah, she comes. SIR MAURICE (to Gaussen, who is stealing out). Keep close — keep close ! Enter Lady Arundel. LADY ARUNDEL. Dost thou not dread to look upon me ? — What ! I gave thee gold — gold to thy heart's content — ( To waft young Arthur to a distant land ; — Gold for his future lot — not bribes for murder ! Sold to the pirate ! — cast on the wild seas I O traitor ! — traitor ! sir MAURICE. 1 knew nought of this. Hush ! — hush ! — Speak low! He I employed the traitor. Not your poor trusty knight ; — but mark me, cousin ; Not then your danger half so dark as now. Time flies the while I speak. — Thou scarce wert gone When came a stranger with such news ! — Old Onslow At hand — he has the proofs ! — I — I can save thee. And I alone ! — Who is the traitor now ? SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 57 LADY ARUNDEL. Terror on terror crowds upon me, like Waters above a drowning wretch ! SIR MAURICE. Be quick ! And, hark ! I must bribe high ! LADY ARUNDEL. Get me the proofs. Silence the priest, and whatsoe'er thou ask'st Is thine. SIR MAURICE. The farms and manor-house of Bothleigh — LADY ARUNDEL. Thine— thine ! SIR MAURICE. Agreed ! — now go in peace and safety — Leave me to work. LADY ARUNDEL. Oh, Percy ! for thy sake — For thy sake this — not mine — bear witness, Heaven ! I will go pray. [Exit SIR MAURICE. Ay, pray ! when weak bad women Gorge some huge crime, they always after it Nibble a bit of prayer, just to digest it! 58 THE SEA-CAPTAIN ; [act hi. So gluttons cram a hecatomb of meat, And then correct it with a crumb of cheese. Come from thy lair, my jackal of the sea. [Gaussen comes forth. Fly to the chapel. Ah, thou know'st those ruins ! — Swoop on the grey-hair'd man thou findest there : Seize, and conceal, and gag him in some cave. Tear from him all — papers and parchments — all ! Bring them to me — a thousand bright broad pieces. — The seaman took the longer path ; — this way — You see the track, it halves the distance, GAUSSEN. If He struggle, must I — SIR MAURICE. Prate thou not of struggles ; I give thee orders but to seize the papers. Fail, and thou know'st I have thy secret ! — Win, And thou art rich for life — away ! [Exit Gaussen. At worst I am a thousand pounds a-year the warmer ; At best — why, that's to come. I know a tame. Patient, poor cousin — Gods, how I will plague him ! As he goes out enter Lord Ashdale. Hadst thou come sooner, thou hadst spoil' d a love- scene. ASHDALE. Wert thou its witness, then ? SCENE I.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 59 SIR MAURICE. Ay, in the corner, Like peeping Tom. YouVe been at Coventry ? ASHDALE. Jest not — thou madden'st me. SIR MAURICE. Thou'lt swear to keep Our counsel from thy mother ? ASHDALE. By my honour. SIR MAURICE. They fly this night — they meet one hour ere midnight By the old chapel. Boat and priest await — She'll know him by the jewel in his plume : Put one in thine — 111 sell thee one a bargain. ASHDALE. This night ! the chapel ! Oh, by earth and heaven, I will not lose this girl ! I thank thee. Knight. {Eccit. SIR MAURICE. Both flies are in the web ! I know a spider Who shall eat both. When shall I wake an earl ? [_E(]cit, 60 THE SEA-CAPTAIN ; [act hi. SCENE II. In the background a Gothic chapel partially in ruins ; — through a broken arch the sea seen at a little dis- tance. In front, broken forest- ground, a small brook running to the sea. At the side, a small tower that admits to the demesnes of the Castle. Sunset. ONSLOW {in front of the chapel) . More than ten years have pass'd since I beheld him — The noble boy; — now time annuls my oath, And cancels all his wrongs ! Ye dismal wrecks — Well might the lightning scathe your bloodstain'd walls, To death and marriage consecrate alike, As is the tale that trembles on my lips ! Lo, the toad battening where the altar stood, But ruin spares the tomb ! So thro' the earth How many altars vow'd to human love A single tomb outlasts ! Enter Gaussen from the tower. GAUSSEN. What, in time ? Alone, too ? [Rushing upon Onslow. Speak not, stir not, or thou diest ! The scrolls— the papers that thou bear'st about thee ! ONSLOW. Avaunt, I know thee, murderer ! On this spot The dead rise up against thee. SCENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 61 GAUSSEN. Dost thou know me ? Then know thy doom and doomsman ! ONSLOW. Villain! off! [^Breaks from him and passes through the arches of the chapel. GAUSSEN {following). Thy blood on thine own head ! Enter Norman. NORMAN. A human cry ! Ha! ruffian, — hold! \_Rushes through the arches. Re-enter Gaussen disarmed. GAUSSEN. Disarm'd ! my hand is palsied ! [Norman appears as in pursuit — Gaussen, creeping along the ruins, enters the tower unperceived. NORMAN. Is it a fiend, that earth should swallow ? ONSLOW (within, groaning). Oh! [Norman re-enters the Chapel GAUSSEN (from the tower). We meet again ! — Enter Norman, bearing Onslow, wounded. 62 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act iii. ONSLOW. Ah ! life is fading fast ! — Let me look on thee — once more I behold thee. And can depart in peace ! — NORMAN. Hush — do not speak ! — ONSLOW. Nay, words grow few. I bade thee meet me here ; Yonder where Murder found me — on this day Twenty and five years back — ^thy father — Say on ! my father ? NORMAN. Father ! ONSLOW. ( Died, most foully murder'd NORMAN. Blood — ^blood for blood — ^the murderer — name him ! ONSLOW. Listen. — There was a page, fair, gentle, brave, but lowborn ; — The daughter of the lordly House he served Saw him and loved : — they wed in stealth ; — these hands Join'd them together in yon holy walls ; They met in secret. I — I — my voice fails me ! [NoRMAN goes to the brook, brings water in the hollow of Ms hand, and sprinkles the face of the old man. SCENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 63 ONSLOW. The father learn'd the love — not wedlock — deem'd His child dishonoured. — On this spot the lovers Met, with design to fly. I loved the youth — His foster-sire — I was to share their flight. — NORMAN. Speak on — speak on. ONSLOW. 'Twas night — a fearful night — Lightning and storm ! — They met — and murderous hands Seized on thy father — dragg'd him from her breast ! — Oh ! — that wild shriek — I hear it still ! — he died By the same wretch that is my murderer now. NORMAN. Thy murderer now ? O thanks, revealing Heaven ! One death, one deed — one arm avenges both ! ONSLOW. Died in these arms — three flagstones from the altar — Near the lone tomb where the first Baron sleeps ; — Still mark the gore-stains where his bones are buried. NORMAN. Oh ! — horror — horror ! ONSLOW. Three nights thence thy mother Gave birth to thee ; — a kinsman, whose cold heart Promise of gold had soften' d to her grief. Bore to my home the babe ! 64 THE SEA-CAPTAIN ; [act hi. NORMAN. And she, my mother ? Does she live still ? — my mother ? ONSLOW. She survived — Forced to a lordlier husband's arms. The tale Of the sad past unknown ! NORMAN. It was her face Mine infant eyes beheld 1 — ONSLOW. In stealth a wife ; In stealth a mother — yes ! — But with new ties Came new affections. — To the second nuptials A second son was born. — She loved him well ; ^ Better than thee — than her own soul. NORMAN. Poor mother ! — ONSLOW. But few words more. — I — I — Oh — NORMAN. Breathe less loud. My soul is in my ears. ONSLOW. Too moved by pity — Too sway'd by fear — lest they should rend thee from me. si^ENE II.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 55 I took a solemn oath to veil the secret — Conceal thy rights — while lived her sire, and he. Her second lord ; and thus allow'd thy youth To quit my roof: — they died, — the sire and husband, — Some two years since ; — ^thou still afar. I sought Thy mother, and her heart was marble ; — Oh ! Here — here {gives papers). Go, seek thy shelter in the law ; But shun yon towers ! — thy mother — NORMAN. But one word ! My mother's name ! — oi^SLOW (pointing to papers) . There ! [^Raises himself to his feet with a sudden effort. Hear my last words. Heaven ! Protect the wrong'd I — upon this head I lay An old man's blessing — Now, farewell ! [^Dies. NORMAN. Stay — stay Thy flight, thou gentlest spirit ! Dumb ! He breathes not! Dead — dead-— my second sire ! O hell-born deed ! Could not these white hairs plead for thee ? — Revenge ! Earth give no shelter to the man of blood ! Conduct his feet, Ordainer of all doom, To retributive slaughter ; and vouchsafe F 66 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act in. This arm thine instrument ! Mine eyes deceived me. Or the red beam, streaking the vaulted gloom, Show'd me the face of Well ! the Heavens are just. And we shall meet again ! — Farewell, farewell ! Heaven gains a saint in thee ! — My mother lives ! What the' she has another child to love ? Is not a mother's heart a mighty space. Embracing all her children ? Of that realm How little will content me ! — She will fold Her arms around me, and from out her breast The eyes that look to hers shall melt away With passionate tears the past and all its sorrows ! What — what ! her son — her son ! Mysterious Nature, At the first glance I loved her ! Wealth, lands, titles, A name that glitters, like a star, amidst The galaxy of England's loftiest born ! O Violet — O my bride — and O my mother ! Out from my heart henceforth each low desire. Each meaner hope my wilder youth conceived ! Be my soul instinct with such glorious thoughts As, springing to great deeds, shall leave my land A bright heroic lesson of the things In which true nobleness endures for ever ! And while I told my woes she wept, she did ! 'Tis her sweet writing ! bless her ! See, she calls me Arthur, and child {kissing the papers), and child, her precious one. Her hope, her darling ! Mother — my own mother ! [Opens the papers — Scene closes. END OF ACT III. SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. ACT IV. SCENE I. The hall in the Castle of ArundeL — Night — lights. Sir Maurice — Gaussen. sir maurice. Thou hast not got the papers ; and thou hast com- mitted a murder ; and, what is worse, thou hast slain the wrong man ! GAUSSEN. But SIR MAURICE. But me no buts : thou hast ruined me. Stand back, and let me think. (Aside.) The heir has the proofs — clear ! He will not come back to this house, the very den of his unnatural foe — clear ! He will seek the law for redress — clear, clear ! But he loves Violet. He will keep his assignation; carry away the girl ; and then off to London, to assert his rights: — all this is clear as noon-day ! Gaussen, thou canst " repair all. The sea-captain will be at the ruins to-night — eleven of the clock — to be married in the chapel by stealth. • gaussen: I overheard all that in the gardens {aside — and more too perhaps), and am already prepared. My bold fellows shall seize priest and boatmen, and I will await the bridegroom. f2 68 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act iv. SIR MAURICE. And that thy cutlass may not fail thee this time, I will brace thy hand by refreshing thy memory. Five- and-twenty years ago — thou then but a young fellow, caught in thy first desperate piracy on the high seas — wert placed in the dungeons of this castle, in order to be marched off the next day to the county gaol, with a rope for thy journey's end. Thou wert released that night : at day-break thou wert on the merry waves again, with a sack of pistoles in thy pouch. What was the price of thy life and liberty ? GAUSSEN. The blood of a man whom the stern old Lord bade me strike as his worst foe. SIR MAURICE. Right ! and the son of that man is the boy thou didst cast on the seas ! Thou sayest that Onslow recognised thee. Be sure the dying man told the son in what face to look for his father's murderer. If thou make not sure work to-night, thou art meat for the crows ! GAUSSEN. Trust me. I will fasten to him as a panther on the stag ! SIR MAURICE. And — stand back ! — let me think ! — let me think! I see it ! — I see ! Thou shalt not only do the deed, but thou shalt find another to bear the blame ! This crack- brain, Ashdale, the young Lord, will be on the spot. He SCENE I.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 69 loves the girl Norman would wed: they will have words, perhaps blows. Be on the watch with thy fel- lows — ten, twenty of them : rush in, under pretence of separating — stab — stab both ! Dead men tell no tales : and ye and your men can bear witness that they fell by each other's hands ! GAUSSEN. 'Tis a death more than I bargained for. The price ? SIR MAURICE. Shall be doubled — two thousand pieces ! GAUSSEN. Touch hands. Bring five hundred to-night — by the old chapel — for my men. I will come for the rest to thine own house to-morrow eve at dusk. SIR MAURICE. Five hundred to-night ! Five hundred. Bully Gaussen, beforehand ! Premiums are an abomination in law — usury,' rank usury ! GAUSSEN. I must have them : my men want pay, and are half mutinous as it is. Blood and wounds, old knight ! this is sharp work you set them at — to net a covy of sailors, who will fight like devils, and to stab a lord — to say nothing of the other man — that's my quarrel — five hun- dred pieces, or I hoist sail, and you may catch the sailors and stab the Lord for yourself. SIR MAURICE {groaning) . Five hundred little, pretty, smiling, golden-faced 70 THE SEA-CAPTAIN ; [act iv. cherubim: 'tis a second Massacre of the Innocents! Well, thou shalt have them {aside — and the Countess must repay me). Before eleven I will be with thee: but you will smite both — both the Lord and the Captain : no time for death-bed explanations. GAUSSEN. They shall never hear the bell toll midnight ! [Exit. SIR MAURICE. Then, ere matins, I shall be Baron Ashdale and heir of Arundel. The lordship and lands of Ashdale are so settled that they go at once to the male heir. Yes, I can trust this man to do the deed ! but can I trust him after it ? A pretty acquaintance Giles Gaussen for a great lord ! — Well, time enough to be rid of him. ASHDALE {speaking tvithout). Yes — ^the dun and sorrell. Enter Lord Ashdale. SIR MAURICE. Hast thou prepared thy plans, my Hotspur ? — ASHDALE. Yes; My steeds and grooms will wait me in the forest : And, for the rest, — I wear my father's sword. SIR MAURICE. Oh, I could hug thee ! By my golden spurs, I doat on valour ! — Thou wilt win the maid, SCENE I.] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 71 I know thou wilt. — Faith, how a frown becomes thee ! Yet he's no carpet warrior — thou must use All thy address ! — ASHDALE. Thou need'st not ur^e me to it. SIR MAURICE. Good night, and luck to thee. (Aside.) Now, now I have him ! I feel myself a lord already ! — lights there ! Enter Servant. Light me, good knave ; there is a pistole for thee. (Aside) A great man should be generous. — 'Bye, my Hector (hums a tune). Is my state-coach below ? — Oh, I forgot. [Eocit. LORD ASHDALE (looking after him in great surprise). Touch'd, crazed ! — the old knight has so starved his body. The brains have taken fright, and given him warning. Ha, ha ! adventure is the gale to love ; And stratagem the salt of its tide ! ha, ha ! I think I never loved this maid so well As now, 'twixt fear of loss and hope of triumph. Enter Lady Arundel. LADY ARUNDEL. Percy — ASHDALE. » Well, madam, I am press'd — 72 THE SEA-CAPTAIN; [act iv. LADY ARUNDEL. Oh, Percy 1 Speak kindly, Percy ! ASHDALE. Mother, if my mood Be chafed to-day, forgive it ! — shall I speak ? Your sudden care for this ignoble stranger. Coupled with memory of wild words your lips Oftimes let fall — your penances and fasts — Your midnight vigils — ^your habitual gloom ; — Weaving all this, to form a likelihood. Why, harsher judgment than your son's, my mother. Might half suspect — LADY ARUNDEL. Speak on, sir — ASHDALE. That your past Was darkened by some unatoned-for sin. Whose veil this stranger's hand had lifted. LADY ARUNDEL. Percy, Your words are daggers — if the unstrung brain At times gives discord — if the insane phantoms That haunt all hearts vex'd by the storms of life — (And / have suffer'd, Percy, sadly suffered) — Do mock and gibber in my dreary path — 'Tis thine to pity, to forbear, to soothe. Never to doubt. Where should that angel men SCENE i] OR, THE BIRTHRIGHT. 73 Call '* Charity" abide — but in the hearts Of our own children ? ASHDALE. Mother — oh, forgive me ! If the unquiet, cavilling spirit born Within me, of the race that, like the ermine. Would pine to deatli when sullied by one stain, Makes me seem harsh — forgive me ! LADY ARUNDEL (approaching him). Never know Till I am dead how deeply I have loved thee ! Thy father — tho' an earl in rank — and near To the royal house in blood and martial fame — Had wed before — had other sons — on me Alone depends thy heritage — from me Thy lordship and thy fortunes. ASHDALE. True, what then ? LADY ARUNDEL. You have loved pomp and state ; and I have pinch'd To feed the lavish wants of your wild youth — Have I not, Percy ? ASHDALE. You have been to me Ever most bounteous, mother. LADY ARUNDEL. Yet, in truth. You prize too much the outward show of things. 74 THE SEA-CAFFAIN ; [act iv. Could you not bear — for you have youth and health, Beauty and strength — the golden wealth of Nature : — ;*85G05 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA UBRARY wm- ■j^?^ ■V