The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 56
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OSWALD Be not hasty, For, sometimes, in despite of my conviction, He tempted me to think the Story true; 'Tis plain he loves the Maid, and what he said That savoured of aversion to thy name Appeared the genuine colour of his soul-- Anxiety lest mischief should befal her After his death.
MARMADUKE I have been much deceived.
OSWALD But sure he loves the Maiden, and never love Could find delight to nurse itself so strangely, Thus to torment her with _inventions!_--death-- There must be truth in this.
MARMADUKE Truth in his story!
He must have felt it then, known what it was, And in such wise to rack her gentle heart Had been a tenfold cruelty.
OSWALD Strange pleasures Do we poor mortals cater for ourselves!
To see him thus provoke her tenderness With tales of weakness and infirmity!
I'd wager on his life for twenty years.
MARMADUKE We will not waste an hour in such a cause.
OSWALD Why, this is n.o.ble! shake her off at once.
MARMADUKE Her virtues are his instruments.--A Man Who has so practised on the world's cold sense, May well deceive his Child--what! leave her thus, A prey to a deceiver?--no--no--no-- 'Tis but a word and then--
OSWALD Something is here More than we see, or whence this strong aversion?
Marmaduke! I suspect unworthy tales Have reached his ear--you have had enemies.
MARMADUKE Enemies!--of his own coinage.
OSWALD That may be, But wherefore slight protection such as you Have power to yield? perhaps he looks elsewhere.-- I am perplexed.
MARMADUKE What hast thou heard or seen?
OSWALD No--no--the thing stands clear of mystery; (As you have said) he coins himself the slander With which he taints her ear;--for a plain reason; He dreads the presence of a virtuous man Like you; he knows your eye would search his heart, Your justice stamp upon his evil deeds The punishment they merit. All is plain: It cannot be--
MARMADUKE What cannot be?
OSWALD Yet that a Father Should in his love admit no rivals.h.i.+p, And torture thus the heart of his own Child--
MARMADUKE Nay, you abuse my friends.h.i.+p!
OSWALD Heaven forbid!-- There was a circ.u.mstance, trifling indeed-- It struck me at the time--yet I believe I never should have thought of it again But for the scene which we by chance have witnessed.
MARMADUKE What is your meaning?
OSWALD Two days gone I saw, Though at a distance and he was disguised, Hovering round Herbert's door, a man whose figure Resembled much that cold voluptuary, The villain, Clifford. He hates you, and he knows Where he can stab you deepest.
MARMADUKE Clifford never Would stoop to skulk about a Cottage door-- It could not be.
OSWALD And yet I now remember, That, when your praise was warm upon my tongue, And the blind Man was told how you had rescued A maiden from the ruffian violence Of this same Clifford, he became impatient And would not hear me.
MARMADUKE No--it cannot be-- I dare not trust myself with such a thought-- Yet whence this strange aversion? You are a man Not used to rash conjectures--
OSWALD If you deem it A thing worth further notice, we must act With caution, sift the matter artfully.
[Exeunt MARMADUKE and OSWALD.]
SCENE--The door of the Hostel
HERBERT, IDONEA, and Host
HERBERT (seated) As I am dear to you, remember, Child!
This last request.
IDONEA You know me, Sire; farewell!
HERBERT And are you going then? Come, come, Idonea, We must not part,--I have measured many a league When these old limbs had need of rest,--and now I will not play the sluggard.
IDONEA Nay, sit down.
[Turning to Host.
Good Host, such tendance as you would expect From your own Children, if yourself were sick, Let this old Man find at your hands; poor Leader, [_Looking at the dog_.
We soon shall meet again. If thou neglect This charge of thine, then ill befall thee!--Look, The little fool is loth to stay behind.
Sir Host! by all the love you bear to courtesy, Take care of him, and feed the truant well.
HOST Fear not, I will obey you;--but One so young, And One so fair, it goes against my heart That you should travel unattended, Lady!-- I have a palfrey and a groom: the lad Shall squire you, (would it not be better, Sir?) And for less fee than I would let him run For any lady I have seen this twelvemonth.
The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 56
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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 56 summary
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