A stranger from across the mountain there, Who, having lost his way in this strange land And coming night, drew hither to what seem'd A human dwelling hidden in these rocks, And where the voice of human sorrow soon Told him it was so.
SEG.
Ay? But nearer--nearer--
That by this smoky supplement of day But for a moment I may see who speaks So pitifully sweet.
FIFE.
Take care! take care!
ROS.
Alas, poor man, that I, myself so helpless, Could better help you than by barren pity, And my poor presence--SEG.
Oh, might that be all!
But that--a few poor moments--and, alas!
The very bliss of having, and the dread Of losing, under such a penalty As every moment's having runs more near, Stifles the very utterance and resource They cry for quickest; till from sheer despair Of holding thee, methinks myself would tear To pieces--FIFE.
There, his word's enough for it.
SEG.
Oh, think, if you who move about at will, And live in sweet communion with your kind, After an hour lost in these lonely rocks Hunger and thirst after some human voice To drink, and human face to feed upon;What must one do where all is mute, or harsh, And ev'n the naked face of cruelty Were better than the mask it works beneath?--Across the mountain then! Across the mountain!
What if the next world which they tell one of Be only next across the mountain then, Though I must never see it till I die, And you one of its angels?
ROS.
Alas; alas!
No angel! And the face you think so fair, 'Tis but the dismal frame-work of these rocks That makes it seem so; and the world I come from--Alas, alas, too many faces there Are but fair vizors to black hearts below, Or only serve to bring the wearer woe!
But to yourself--If haply the redress That I am here upon may help to yours.
I heard you tax the heavens with ordering, And men for executing, what, alas!
I now behold.But why, and who they are Who do, and you who suffer--SEG.(pointing upwards).
Ask of them, Whom, as to-night, I have so often ask'd, And ask'd in vain.
ROS.
But surely, surely--
SEG.
Hark!
The trumpet of the watch to shut us in.
Oh, should they find you!--Quick! Behind the rocks!
To-morrow--if to-morrow--
ROS.(flinging her sword toward him).
Take my sword!
(Rosaura and Fife hide in the rocks; Enter Clotaldo)CLOTALDO.
These stormy days you like to see the last of Are but ill opiates, Segismund, I think, For night to follow: and to-night you seem More than your wont disorder'd.What! A sword?
Within there!
(Enter Soldiers with black vizors and torches)FIFE.
Here's a pleasant masquerade!
CLO.
Whosever watch this was Will have to pay head-reckoning.Meanwhile, This weapon had a wearer.Bring him here, Alive or dead.
SEG.
Clotaldo! good Clotaldo!--
CLO.(to Soldiers who enclose Segismund; others searching the rocks).
You know your duty.
SOLDIERS (bringing in Rosaura and Fife).
Here are two of them, Whoever more to follow--CLO.
Who are you, That in defiance of known proclamation Are found, at night-fall too, about this place?
FIFE.
Oh, my Lord, she--I mean he--
ROS.
Silence, Fife, And let me speak for both.--Two foreign men, To whom your country and its proclamations Are equally unknown; and had we known, Ourselves not masters of our lawless beasts That, terrified by the storm among your rocks, Flung us upon them to our cost.
FIFE.
My mule--
CLO.
Foreigners? Of what country?
ROS.
Muscovy.
CLO.
And whither bound?
ROS.
Hither--if this be Poland;
But with no ill design on her, and therefore Taking it ill that we should thus be stopt Upon her threshold so uncivilly.
CLO.
Whither in Poland?
ROS.
To the capital.
CLO.
And on what errand?
ROS.
Set me on the road, And you shall be the nearer to my answer.
CLO.(aside).
So resolute and ready to reply, And yet so young--and--(Aloud.)
Well,--
Your business was not surely with the man We found you with?
ROS.
He was the first we saw,--
And strangers and benighted, as we were, As you too would have done in a like case, Accosted him at once.
CLO.
Ay, but this sword?
ROS.
I flung it toward him.
CLO.
Well, and why?
ROS.
And why? But to revenge himself on those who thus Injuriously misuse him.
CLO.
So--so--so!
'Tis well such resolution wants a beard And, I suppose, is never to attain one.
Well, I must take you both, you and your sword, Prisoners.
FIFE.(offering a cudgel).
Pray take mine, and welcome, sir;
I'm sure I gave it to that mule of mine To mighty little purpose.
ROS.
Mine you have;
And may it win us some more kindliness Than we have met with yet.
CLO (examining the sword).
More mystery!
How came you by this weapon?
ROS.
From my father.
CLO.
And do you know whence he?
ROS.
Oh, very well:
From one of this same Polish realm of yours, Who promised a return, should come the chance, Of courtesies that he received himself In Muscovy, and left this pledge of it--Not likely yet, it seems, to be redeem'd.
CLO (aside).
Oh, wondrous chance--or wondrous Providence!
The sword that I myself in Muscovy, When these white hairs were black, for keepsake left Of obligation for a like return To him who saved me wounded as I lay Fighting against his country; took me home;Tended me like a brother till recover'd, Perchance to fight against him once again And now my sword put back into my hand By his--if not his son--still, as so seeming, By me, as first devoir of gratitude, To seem believing, till the wearer's self See fit to drop the ill-dissembling mask.
(Aloud.)
Well, a strange turn of fortune has arrested The sharp and sudden penalty that else Had visited your rashness or mischance:
In part, your tender youth too--pardon me, And touch not where your sword is not to answer--Commends you to my care; not your life only, Else by this misadventure forfeited;But ev'n your errand, which, by happy chance, Chimes with the very business I am on, And calls me to the very point you aim at.
ROS.
The capital?
CLO.
Ay, the capital; and ev'n That capital of capitals, the Court:
