Complete Works of Thomas Love Peacock

by Thomas Love Peacock

  On that sad day which gave him to the tomb, My father bare me to the old man’s cave And thus address’d him: ‘Venerable seer!

  I bring thee my dear child, my lov’d Rindane; If I should fall in battle, and my soul Forebodes I shall, be thou a father to her; Her mother sleeps in death, and thou alone Can’st rear and succour her. At ev’ning close, If I return not, haste thee to the field, Seek out my cave, and lay me in the earth, And with me — mark this last, most solemn charge — If it perchance escape the plund’ring foe, Inter this magic sword, for though my arm It still has crown’d with conquest, to my race’Tis pregnant with destruction.’ Then he kiss’d me, And left the cave, to which he ne’er return’d.

  The good old man perform’d his last injunctions; He found his mangled corse, and now my sire, And his all-conqu’ring sword, together lie, Near Loda’s mystic circle.

  Hidalvar. What of this?

  Rindane. The old man lov’d me with a parent’s fondness:

  Most deeply was he skill’d in mystic lore, And many a magic spell to me he taught Of mightiest pow’r: amongst the rest, I learn’d The thrilling verse which bursts the tomb and wakes The slumb’ring dust, which calls the shudd’ring spirit Back to its earthly mansion, and compels The dead to yield their hidden treasures up.

  Now learn my purpose: to my father’s tomb, Whilst midnight darkness overhangs the world, Will I now bend my steps, and there, by spells, Enforce his shiv’ring and reluctant ghost To yield the magic sword, the precious gift Which shall ensure us victory.

  Hidalvar. Rindane!

  Remember what thy dying sire declar’d, That to his race ’tis pregnant with destruction. Forego thy rash ill-omen’d enterprise.

  Rindane. Hidalvar! my resolves are fix’d: in vain Would’st thou attempt to change them. True, I bear A female form, but not a female soul, For I can look without dismay on scenes Which thou would’st shrink from. When the morning breaks, Meet me in Arvor’s vale; till then, farewell. Hidalvar. Yet hold, Rindane; ’tis an act forbidden By Odin and by Hela, and their wrath —

  Rindane. Fear not for me: farewell!

  [Exit.

  Hidalvar. Is this Rindane?

  Is this the gentle maid who gain’d my heart In old Nerimnher’s cave? For whose dear sake I plung’d into a sea of guilt and horror?

  Oh! artful serpent! how she wound about My then unspotted soul! and even yet, Although I know and shudder at her crimes, I cannot cease to love her. Oh, Mengala!

  Perhaps she yet exists — delusive hope!

  I must not think of that; ’tis madness — death! Love, grief, remorse, a thousand warring passions Distract and torture me: ‘twere best repair To Runi’s cave, where oft by night assemble The awful spirits of departed heroes:

  To them will I address my suppliant voice, And they, perhaps, will answer to my call, And point my path aright. [Exit.

  SCENE IV. — A LANDSCAPE. MOONLIGHT. Enter AGNARR and HANRI, from opposite sides, with BARDS and WARRIORS.

  Hanri. Well met, Agnarr! and you, my valiant friends, Whom ever ready at your country’s call, The welcome, though unlook’d for, voice of war Has rous’d to instant action.

  Agnarr. Full success, Doubt not, shall crown our arms, and Erin’s maids And grey-hair’d matrons shall, in tears of blood, Lament their lovers and their sons who soon Shall moulder on our plains, and yield a banquet ‘To hawks and ravens.

  Hanri. Strike the harp, and swell The bold and animating song of battle; Then let us to the king.

  Grand Chorus.

  O’er Loduna’s ample plain

  Silence holds her midnight reign;

  But when morning fires the skies,

  Hostile bands in arms shall rise,

  Then no more shall silence reign

  O’er Loduna’s ample plain.

  Swords shall clash and shields resound,

  Bursting blood shall stream around,

  Bows shall twang and helmets glare,

  Nimble arrows hiss in air,

  Death and glory, hand in hand,

  There shall take their awful stand.

  Soon as morning fires the sky,

  Haste to conquer or to die! — [Exeunt.

  SCENE V. — A CAVERN. Enter HIDALVAR. — After a pause, he speaks:

  Warriors bold of days long past,

  Rulers of the eddying blast,

  Heroes gen’rous, bold, and strong,

  Matchless chiefs renown’d in song,

  Ministers of mighty Thor,

  Dreadful arbiters of war,

  Dwellers high of Odin’s hall,

  Hear your humble suppliant’s call.

  Ye, who, o’er the embattled plain,

  Rule the war and mark the slain,

  Ye, whose cloud-encircled forms

  Raise the northern seas in storms,

  Ye who great in wrath unfurl’d

  Pour destruction on the world,

  Ye, whose frowns the brave appal,

  Hear your humble suppliant’s call.

  Solemn silence reigns around:

  Lo! I press the sacred ground:

  Mark me, humbly kneeling here;

  Spirits of my sires, appear!

  Chiefs immers’d in midnight shades,

  Favour’d of the fatal maids,

  Tell (my suppliant call attend)

  How the coming strife shall end.

  Voice from the back scene:

  Tremble at the coming strife!

  Danger threats thy guilty life:

  Yet repent, and all is well;

  More the fates forbid to tell.

  Thunder. The back-scene opens, and discovers several figures in armour, half concealed with clouds. HIDALVAR continues kneeling. Solemn music.

  End of Act I.

  ACT II.

  SCENE I. — THE VALLEY OF ARVOR. DAWN. Enter HIDALVAR.

  Hidalvar. Repent and all is well! The awful words

  Still vibrate oh my ear. Repent! — but how?

  Cast off Rindane, and submit to Cormac:

  The world, the vain, unjust, mistaken world,

  Would say that fear, and not returning virtue,

  Had been my instigator. How to act?

  Submit to Cormac! Love and pride forbid it!

  Well, then, to war — to lift my guilty arm

  Against the virtuous, innocent life of him

  Whom I already have so deeply wrong’d!

  Distraction! torture! whither shall I turn?

  The morning dawns, and this is Arvor’s vale:

  ’Twas here Rindane bade me wait her coming.

  Rindane! dear, seducing, lovely criminal!

  If to repent be to abandon thee,

  I cannot — dare not. Is it possible

  That I should love and yet despise the object?

  I lov’d Mengala once, and then esteem Went hand in hand with love. How my brain burns!

  Tormenting thoughts! The iron din of war Shall drive ye hence. — Rindane comes not yet.

  Enter MENGALA.

  Mengala. ’Tis he: my trembling limbs can scarce sustain me.

  Hidalvar. Ha! Who art thou?

  Mengala. A wretch without a name, A country, or a friend.

  Hidalvar. What brings thee here?

  Mengala. I seek the King of Sora.

  Hidalvar. What’s thy errand?

  Thou see’st him here: what wouldst thou with me? speak.

  Mengala. I wish to serve thee, chief: I seek from thee Protection and support.

  Hidalvar. Thy arms bespeak thee Of Erin’s nation: Cormac is my foe, Yet mark me, boy; thou sue’st to me in vain, If thou be basely seeking to desert Thy king and country at the hour of need.

  Mengala. Mistake me not, I am not such a wretch.

  Believe me, Erin is not more my country Than Sora is. Misfortune’s hand has press’d Most roughly on my heart, and stern necessity Has made me wear these cold and heavy arms Which suit not with my habit nor my youth.

  Hidalvar. How would’st thou serve me, then
? the race of Sora Is nurs’d in battles and inur’d to hardships.

  If thou would’st dwell in indolence and peace, ’Tis not in Sora thou must seek for them.

  Mengala. Weak, and unus’d to war, I cannot wield The heavy sword, nor hurl the whizzing dart; Yet I would serve thee well, and might, perchance, Beguile thy lonely hours, for I am skill’d To strike the harp to tones of joy or sorrow —

  I had a sister once — but she is gone:

  She gave her heart to one who smil’d and promis’d, And he abandoned her; ’twas said he kill’d her, But I believe it not: no human heart Could surely be so hard, so very hard To kill a maid so gentle and so fond.

  Hidalvar. How ev’ry word he utters rends my soul!

  Mengala. I made a little ballad on her fate, Which oft I sing to feed my melancholy:

  Will’t please thee to hear it?

  Hidalvar. ’Tis not now the time:

  I must to battle, boy.

  Mengala. Nay, I entreat you:

  It is but short, and will relieve my heart, Which now is almost breaking.

  Hidalvar. Well, sing on.

  Song. MENGALA.

  Fidallan was a comely youth,

  The love of many a fair,

  His breast appear’d the seat of truth,

  But ’twas no inmate there.

  Young Morna’s virgin heart he gain’d,

  And promis’d ne’er to roam,

  Her aged sire’s consent obtain’d,

  And led her to his home.

  But he, by each new beauty fir’d,

  More false than summer skies,

  Soon felt a stronger flame inspir’d

  By fierce Dengala’s eyes.

  With Morna’s death his soul was dark,

  He watch’d the rising breeze;

  Alone he plac’d her in a bark,

  On Gormal’s boist’rous seas.

  A friendly chief preserv’d her life,

  And rais’d a warlike band,

  Who pour’d the flames of vengeful strife

  On false Fidallan’s land.

  A stranger met Fidallan’s eyes,

  Who deem’d the fair one dead;

  He knew not Morna in disguise,

  She told her tale and fled.

  [Exit.

  Hidalvar. It is Mengala! stay, thou injur’d innocence!

  Oh, stay! She’s gone; she leaves me to despair: Now shall I follow and implore her pardon?

  A load of guilt and shame retards my steps.

  And then to leave my lovely, dear Rindane; — Dear! is she dear to me? Too well, I feel, She is: yet hers are not the tender heart, And spotless soul, with which Mengala charms.

  Why do I love her? why — that she is beauteous; True, she is beauteous, but the pois’nous berry, Which shows most fair and tempting to the eye, Contains a deadlier juice than the rank weed, Whose honest form proclaims its noxious nature, And lures not to destruction. Let me fly Her fatal charms, and at Mengala’s feet —

  It shall be so; but where will she be found?

  And, if I find her, can I hope forgiveness?

  Said not the spirit of the cave, ‘Repent And all is well ‘? That thought shall urge me on.

  Enter RINDANE.

  Rindane. Hidalvar, hold! why whither wert thou going?

  What means this agitation? No reply?

  Thine eyes roll wildly, and thy cheeks are flush’d, As if each rival passion in thy bosom Were struggling for the mast’ry. Dear Hidalvar! What makes thee thus?

  Hidalvar. Hence, false enchantress, hence!

  Whom Lok, the subtle enemy of man, Sent hither for my ruin.

  Rindane. This to me!

  Hidalvar. Away! away! I know thee now, Rindane!

  I will no longer be that easy fool Thou long hast found me. Thy pernicious arts, Which plung’d my soul in vice and wreck’d my peace, Have lost their pow’r. I leave thee to thy fate. Rindane. What can have caus’d this sudden gust of passion?

  Why these ungen’rous, cruel, false reproaches?

  Have I not lov’d thee with unvarying truth?

  Since first we met in old Nerimnher’s cave, Can’st thou recall one word or deed of mine That gave not proof of my misplac’d affection? Hidalvar. Misplac’d, Rindane!

  Rindane. Ay, if thou desert me.

  Wilt thou, Hidalvar, can’st thou cast me off? Hidalvar. I must not stay, or I am lost again: (aside.)

  Be firm, be firm, my soul! — Once more, adieu! Rindane. And whither wilt thou go?

  Hidalvar. To Erin’s king, To make atonement for my crimes to him, And my belov’d Mengala: answer not, ’Tis past thy art, consummate as it is, To shake my virtuous resolution.

  Rindane. Oh! ’tis a master stroke of policy!

  Yet think not I can be the shallow dupe Of this most worthy artifice.

  Hidalvar. Rindane!

  Rindane. I had been weak enough to mourn thy loss, Had I not known the cause, but as it is, I pity and despise thee. So farewell.

  Hidalvar. I understand thee not.

  Rindane. — Yet I am wrong To blame thee thus, for thou art young and powerful, And youth and pow’r undoubtedly have charms To bind thee to the world, and it were pity, Whilst these are thine, to risk thy precious life In the uncertain field of dang’rous war:

  Go, cringe to Cormac, kneel, and sue for peace, Disgrace thyself, thy country, and thy name, And, by the loss of honour and respect, Preserve thy wretched life, then live despis’d, And die forgotten. Go, illustrious chief!

  Hidalvar. Distraction!

  Rindane. Wherefore do you hesitate?

  Go, ere it be too late. Down yonder hill, Agnarr and Hanri lead their warlike bands; Oh! they will triumph in their noble king!

  They will rejoice and glory in a peace, So honourably gain’d!

  Hidalvar. No more! no more!

  Rindane. Yet, dear Hidalvar, do not forfeit thus Thy friends’ esteem and my too constant love; Cast off this childish folly that has seiz’d thee, Call back thy native energy of mind, And thou and thy Rindane, side by side, Will die or conquer.

  Hidcalvar. Oh! thou lovely mischief!

  Lead where thou wilt, and I will follow thee. Rindane. Why, this is well: — thy harshness wrung my heart; But thou art kind again, and ’tis forgotten.

  Enter HANRI.

  Hanri. My king, the tribes of Erin are preparing To give us battle. I have sought you long. Hidcalvar. Where is Agnarr?

  Hanri. Not far from hence: this signal Will draw him hither (striking his shield.)

  Rindane. See, our friends approach.

  Enter AGNARR, Bards and Warriors.

  Agnarr. The foe advances to Loduna’s plain. Hidalvar. Haste then to meet them.

  Rindane. Valiant chiefs of Sora, Will you permit a woman to partake The toils and dangers of this glorious day?

  Agnarr. Oh, matchless fair-one! thy illustrious presence Will cast a double lustre on our arms.

  Hidalvar. Come, to the field!

  Rindane. To victory or death! —

  Grand Chorus.

  The bright star of day rises red from the wave,

  And calls us to war, to the strife of the brave;

  As the eagle of heaven descends on his prey,

  We rush on our foes when renown points the way.

  When the thunders of battle resound on the plain,

  And the hawk hovers round, and exults o’er the slain,

  In brightness tremendous our fame shall arise,

  As the death-darting meteor that shoots through the skies.

  Our swords are unsheath’d, and our standards unfurl’d,

  On our foes shall the lightnings of ruin be hurl’d,

  ’Tis the summons of glory: we haste to the call,

  For our king and our country to vanquish or fall!

  [Exeunt.

  SCENE II. — THE FIELD OF BATTLE.

  Enter several parties engaged. Then enter CALMAR.

  Calmar. The storm is up: the battle burns around:

  A
nd like a torrent that has burst its banks, The sons of Erin thunder o’er the plain, And desolation triumphs in their course.

  Enter FERDAN.

  Ferdan. Our gallant countrymen, whose souls are fire, Whose arms, long tried in war, have never fail’d To force the smiles of victory, seem to-day Inspir’d with double ardour.

  Calmar. Well they know No common cause has call’d us to the field, Our king is wrong’d, most deeply, basely wrong’d, And to his people looks for retribution.

  Ferdan. And amply shall he find it.

  Calmar. See, my friend, Superior numbers press upon the king.

  Ferdan. Come, let us fly to save him.

  [Exit.

  Hanri. Turn thee, chief!

  Submit or die.

  Colmar. Thou vain, presumptuous boaster!

  I only yield in death: the sword of Calmar Shall end at once thy vauntings and thy life.

  [Exeunt fighting.

  Loud Alarums.

  Enter HIDALVAR.

  Hidalvar. Rindane moves, like Hilda, through the field, And tracks her path with blood. Not so with me; Remorse and shame have quite unnerv’d my arm. Should Cormac meet me, scarcely could my sword Defend its master — Death is now at work.

  Well, let him rage: war’s overwhelming storm Should suit the tempest of contending passions, Which rends my tortur’d breast.

  Enter CORMAC.

  Cormac. By all my hopes, ’Tis he, whom I so long have sought in vain.

  Hidalvar. Ha! Cormac!

  Cormac. King of Sora! two long years Have past since last we met: I thought thee then Possess’d of ev’ry virtue, and as such, I gave thee my Mengala: in what way Hast thou requited me? Perfidious traitor!

  Now meet thy punishment. Come on, I say!

  Hidalvar. Too much already have I wrong’d thee, Cormac:

  I will not fight with thee.

  Cormac. Base, trembling boy!

  Thou art as much a coward as a villain!

  Hidalvar. Enough: I would not wish to take thy life, But I will guard my own against the world.

  They fight. MENGALA enters behind. CORMAC disarms HIDALVAR. MENGALA rushes forward; her helmet falls off, and she sinks on her knees between them.

  The scene closes.

  SCENE III. — ANOTHER PART OF THE FIELD.

  Several of CORMAC’S army run over the stage.

  Enter RINDANE and Warriors.

  Rindane. They fly! they fly! the race of Erin yield!

  Come on, my friends, pursue their scatter’d host, And nobly end a strife so well begun.