# A Series of Plays in which it is attempted to delineate The Stronger Passions of the Mind, Volume Three/The Dream Act 1

THE DREAM.
ACT I.
SCENE I.—A Court within the Monastery, with a grated iron Gate opening into an outer Court, through which are seen several Peasants waiting; Jerome is discovered on the front of the stage, walking backwards and forwards in a disturbed manner, then stopping and speaking to himself.
Jer. Twice in one night the same awful vision repeated! And Paul also terrified with a similar visitation! This is no common accidental mimicry of sleep: the shreds and remnants of our day-thoughts, put together at night in some fantastic incongruous form, as the drifting clouds of a broken-up storm piece themselves again into uncertain shapes of rocks and animals. No, no! there must be some great and momentous meaning in this.
Enter Benedict behind him.
Ben. Some great and momentous meaning in this! What art thou musing upon?
​ Jer. Be satisfied! be satisfied! It is not always fitting that the mind should lay open the things it is busy withal, though an articulate sound may sometimes escape it to set curiosity on the rack. Where is brother Paul? Is he still at his devotions?
Ben. I believe so. But look where the poor Peasants are waiting without: it is the hour when they expect our benefactions. Go, and speak to them: thou hast always been their favourite confessor, and they want consolation.
(Beckoning the Peasants, who thereupon advance through the gate, while Jerome stretches out his hand to prevent them.)
Jer. Stop there! come not within the gates! I charge you advance no farther. (To Benedict angrily.) There is death and contagion in every one of them, and yet thou would'st admit them so near us. Dost thou indeed expect a miracle to be wrought in our behalf? Are we not flesh and blood? and does not the grave yawn for us as well as other men? (To the Peasants still more vehemently.) Turn, I charge you, and retire without the gate.
1st Peas. Oh! be not so stern with us, good Father! There are ten new corpses in the village since yesterday, and scarcely ten men left in it with strength enough to bury them. The best half of the village are now under ground, who, but three weeks gone by, were all alive and well. O, do not chide us away!
​ 2d Peas. God knows if any of us shall ever enter these gates again; and it revives us to come once a day to receive your blessings, good Fathers.
Jer. Well, and you shall have our blessing, my children; but come not so near us; we are mortal men like yourselves, and there is contagion about you.
1st Peas. Ah! no, no! Saint Maurice will take care of his own; there is no fear of you, Fathers.
Jer. I hope he will; but it is presumptuous to tempt danger. Retire, I beseech you, and you shall have relief given to you without the gates. If you have any love for us, retire. (The Peasants retire.)
Ben. Well, I feel a strong faith within me, that our Saint, or some other good spirit, will take care of us. How is it that thou art so alarmed and so vehement with those good people? It is not thy usual temper.
Jer. Be satisfied, I pray thee: I cannot tell thee now. Leave me to myself a little while.—Would to God brother Paul were come to me! Ha! here he is.
Enter Paul; and Jerome, after waiting impatiently till Benedict retires, advances to him eagerly. Was it to a spot near the black monument in the stranger's burying vault, that it pointed?
​ Paul. Yes, to the very spot described by thee yesterday morning, when thou first told'st me thy dream: and, indeed, every circumstance of my last night's vision strongly resembled thine; or rather, I should say, was the same. The fixed frown of it's ghastly face——
Jer. Aye, and the majestic motion of its limbs. Did it not wear a mantle over its right shoulder, as if for concealment rather than grace?
Paul. I know not; I did not mark that; but it strode before me as distinctly as ever mortal man did before my waking sight; and yet as no mortal man ever did before the waking sight.
Jer. But it appeared to thee only once.
Paul. Only once; for I waked under such a deep horror, that I durst not go to sleep again.
Jer. When it first appeared to me, as I told thee, the night before last, the form, though distinctly, was but faintly imaged forth; and methought it rose more powerfully to my imagination as I told it to thee, than in the dream itself. But last night, when it returned, it was far more vivid than before. I waked indeed as thou did'st, impressed with a deep horror, yet irresistible sleep seized upon me again; and O, how it appeared to me the third time, like a palpable, horrid reality!(After a pause) What is to be done?
​ Paul. What can be done? We can stop no division of the Imperial army till one shall really march by this pass.
Jer. And this is not likely; for I received a letter from a friend two days ago, by an express messenger, who says, he had delayed sending it, hoping to have it conveyed to me by one of Count Osterloo's soldiers, who, with his division, should have marched through our pass, but was now, he believed, to conduct them by a different route.
Paul. What noise and commotion is that near the gate? (Calling to those without.) Ho there! What is the matter?
1st. Peas. (without.) Nothing, Father; but we hear a trumpet at a distance, and they say, there is an army marching amongst the mountains.
Jer. By all our holy saints, if it be so— (Calling again to the 1st Peas.) Are ye sure it is trumpets you hear?
1st.Peas. As sure as we ever heard any sound; and here is a lad too, who saw from the top-most crag, with his own eyes, their banners waving at a distance.
Jer. (to Paul.) What think'st thou of it?
Paul. We must go to the Prior, and reveal the whole to him directly. Our own lives and those of the whole brotherhood depend upon it; there can be no hesitation now.
Jer. Come then; lose no time. We have a solemn duty imposed upon us.[Exeunt. ​
SCENE II.
An open Space by the Gate of the Monastery, with a View of the Building on one Side, while Rocks and Mountains, wildly grand, appear in every other Direction, and a narrow Pass through the Mountains opening to the bottom of the Stage. Several Peasants, both Men and Women, are discovered, waiting as if to see some Sight; a Trumpet and warlike Music heard at a little distance.
1st Peas. Hear how it echoes amongst the rocks: it is your true warlike sound, that makes a man's heart stir within him, and his feet beat the ground to its measure.
2d Peas. Ah! what have our hearts to do with it now, miserable as we are!
1st Peas. What have we to do with it! Speak for thyself. Were I to be laid in the grave this very night, it would rouse me to hear those sounds, which remind me of the battle of Laupen.
2d Peas. Well; look not so proudly at me: though I have not yet fought for my country, I am of a good stock, nevertheless: my father lost his life at Morgarten.
(Calling up to Morand, who now appears scrambling down the sides of the rocks.)
Are they near us, Lieutenant?
Mor. They'll be here in a trice. I know their ensigns already: they are those brave fellows under the command of Count Osterloo, who ​did such good service to the Emperor in his last battle.
3d Peas. (Woman.) Aye; they be goodly men, no doubt, and bravely accoutred, I warrant ye.
4th Peas. (Old Woman.) Aye, there be many a brave man amongst them I trow, returning to his mother again. My Hubert never returned.
2d Peas. (to Mor.) Count Osterloo! Who is he?
Mor. Did'st thou never hear of him? He has been in as many battles as thou hast been in harvest fields.
2d Peas. And won them too?
Mor. Nay, some of them he has won, and some he has lost; but whether his own side were fighting or flying, he always kept his ground, or retreated like a man. The enemy never saw his back.
1st Peas. True, Lieutenant; I once knew an old soldier of Osterloo's who boasted much of his General; for his men are proud of him, and would go through flood and flame for his sake.
Mor. Yes, he is affable and indulgent to them, although passionate and unreasonable when provoked; and has been known to punish even his greatest favourites severely for a slight offence. I remember well, the officer I first served under, being a man of this kidney, and——
1st Peas. Hist, hist! the gates are thrown ​open, and yonder come the Monks in procession with the Prior at their head.
(Enter Prior and Monks from the Monastery, and range themselves on one side of the stage.)
Prior. (to the Peasants) Retire, my children, and don't come so near us. Don't stand near the soldiers as they pass neither, but go to your houses.
1st Woman. O bless St. Maurice and your holy reverence! We see nothing now but coffins and burials, and hear nothing but the ticking of the death-watch, and the tolling of bells: do let us stand here and look at the brave sight. Lord knows if any of us may be above ground to see such another, an' it were to pass this way but a week hence.
Prior. Be it so then, daughter, but keep at a distance on the rocks, where you may see every thing without communicating infection.
(The Peasants retire, climbing amongst the rocks: then enter by the narrow pass at the bottom of the stage, Soldiers marching to martial music, with Officers and Osterloo.)
Prior. (advancing, and lifting up his hands with solemnity.) Soldiers and officers, and the noble chief commanding this band! in the name of our patron St. Maurice, once like yourselves a ​valiant soldier upon earth, now a holy powerful saint in heaven, I conjure you to halt.
1st Off. (in the foremost rank.) Say you so, reverend Prior, to men pressing forward as we do, to shelter our heads for the night, and that cold wintry sun going down so fast upon us?
1st Sold. By my faith! if we pass the night here amongst the mountains, it will take something besides prayers and benedictions to keep us alive.
2d Sold. Spend the night here amongst chamois and eagles! Some miracle no doubt will be wrought for our accommodation.
1st Off. Murmur not, my friends: here comes your general, who is always careful of you.
Ost. (advancing from the rear.) What is the matter?
Prior. (to Ost.) You are the commander in chief?
Ost. Yes, reverend Father: and, with all respect and deference, let me say, the night advances fast upon us. Martigny is still at a good distance, and we must not be detained. With many thanks, then, for your intended civilities, we beg your prayers, holy Prior, with those of your pious Monks, and crave leave to pass on our way.
Prior. (lifting his hands as before.) If there be any piety in brave men, I conjure you, in the name of St. Maurice, to halt! The lives of our whole community depend upon it; ​men who, for your lives, have offered to heaven many prayers.
Ost. How may this be, my Lord? Who will attack your sacred walls, that you should want any defence?
Prior. We want not, general, the service of your arms: my own troops, with the brave captain who commands them, are sufficient to defend us from mortal foes.
Soldiers. (murmuring) Must we fight with devils then?
Ost. Be quiet, my good comrades. (To Prior.) Well, my Lord, proceed.
Prior. A fatal pestilence rages in this neighbourhood; and by command of a vision, which has appeared three times to the Senior of our order, and also to another of our brotherhood, threatening, in case of disobedience, that the whole community shall fall victims to the dreadful disease, we are compelled to conjure you to halt.
Ost. And for what purpose?
Prior. That we may chuse by lot from the first division of the Imperial army which marches through this pass, (so did the vision precisely direct us,) a man who shall spend one night within the walls of our monastery; there to undergo certain penances for the expiation of long-concealed guilt.
Ost. This is very strange. By lot did you say? It will be tedious. There are a hundred of my ​men who will volunteer the service.—What say ye, Soldiers?
1st Sold. Willingly, General, if you desire it. Yet I marvel what greater virtue there can be in beleag'ring the war-worn hide of a poor soldier, than the fat sides of a well-fed monk.
Ost. Wilt thou do it, then?
1st Sold. Aye; and more than that, willingly, for my General. It is not the first time a cat-o'-nine-tails has been across my back for other men's misdeeds. Promise me a good flask of brandy when I'm done with it, and I warrant ye I'll never winch. As to the saying of Pater-nosters, if there be any thing of that kind tacked to it, I let you to wit my dexterity is but small.
Ost. Then be it as thou wilt, my good friend; yet I had as lief my own skin should smart for it as thine, thou art such a valiant fellow.
Prior. No, noble General, this must not be; we must have our man chosen by lot. The lives of the whole community depending upon it; we must strictly obey the vision.
Ost. It will detain us long.
Prior. Nay, my Lord; the lots are already prepared. In the first place, six men only shall draw; four representing the soldiers, and two the officers. If the soldiers are taken, they shall draw by companies, and the company that is taken shall draw individually; but if the lot falls to the officers, each of them shall draw for himself.
​ Ost. Let it be so; you have arranged it well. Produce the lots.
(The Prior giving the sign, a Monk advances, bearing a stand, on which are placed three vases, and sets it near the front of the stage.)
Prior. Now, brave Soldiers, let four from your body advance. (Ost. points to four men, who advance from the ranks.)
Ost. And two from the officers, my Lord?
Prior. Even so, noble Count.
(Ost. then points to two Officers, who, with the four Soldiers, draw lots from the smallest vase directed by the Prior.)
1st Sold. (speaking to his comrades as the others are drawing.) This is strange mummery i' faith! but it would have been no joke, I suppose, to have offended St. Maurice.
Prior. (after examining the lots.) Soldiers, ye are free; it is your Officers who are taken.
1st Sold. (as before) Ha! the vision is dainty it seems; it is not vulgar blood like ours, that will serve to stain the ends of his holy lash.
(A Monk having removed two of the vases, the Prior beckons the Officers to draw from the remaining one.)
Prior. Stand not on order; let him who is nearest put in his hand first.
1st Sold. (aside to the others as the Officers are drawing) Now by these arms! I would give a month's ​pay that the lot should fall on our prim, pompous lieutenant. It would be well worth the money to look in at one of their narrow windows, and see his dignified back-bone winching under the hands of a good brawny friar.
Ost. (aside, unrolling his lot.) Mighty heaven! Is fate or chance in this?
1st Off. (aside to Ost.) Have you got it, General? Change it for mine if you have.
Ost. No, no, my noble Albert; let us be honest; but thanks to thy generous friendship!
Prior. Now shew the lots. (All the Officers shew their lots, excepting Osterloo, who continues gloomy and thoughtful.) Has no one drawn the sable scroll of election? (To Osterloo.) You are silent, my Lord; of what colour is your lot?
Ost. (holding out his scroll.) Black as midnight.
(Soldiers quit their ranks and crowd round Osterloo, tumultuously.
1st Sold. Has it fallen upon our General? 'tis a damned lot—an unfair lot.
2d Sold. We will not leave him behind us, though a hundred St. Maurices commanded it.
3d Sold. Get within your walls again, ye cunning Friars.
1st Sold. An' we should lie i' the open air all night, we will not leave brave Osterloo behind us.
Prior. (to Ost.) Count, you seem gloomy and irresolute: have the goodness to silence these ​clamours. I am in truth as sorry as any of your soldiers can be, that the lot has fallen upon you.
1st Off. (aside to Ost.) Nay, my noble friend, let me fulfil this penance in your stead. It is not now a time for scruples: the soldiers will be mutinous.
Ost. Mutinous! Soldiers, return to your ranks. (Looking at them sternly as they seem unwillingly to obey.) Will you brave me so far that I must repeat my command?(They retire.) I thank thee, dear Albert. (To 1st Off.) Thou shalt do something in my stead; but it shall not be the service thou thinkest of. (To Prior.) Reverend Father, I am indeed somewhat struck at being marked out by fate from so many men; but, as to how I shall act thereupon, no wise irresolute. (To the Sold.) Continue your march. The brave Albert shall conduct you to Martigny; and there you will remain under his command, till I join you again.
1st Sold. God preserve you then, my noble General! and if you do not join us again by tomorrow evening, safe and sound, we will not leave one stone of that building standing on another.
Many Soldiers at once. So swear we all! So swear, &c.
Ost. (assuming a cheerful look.) Go to, foolish fellows? Were you to leave me in a den of lions, you could not be more apprehensive. Will watching all night by some holy shrine, or walking bare-foot through their ​midnight aisles, be such a hardship to one, who has passed so many nights with you all on the cold field of battle? Continue your march without delay; else these good Fathers will count you no better than a band of new-raised city troops, with some jolly tankard-chief for your leader. A good march to you, my friends, with kind hostesses and warm fire-sides where you are going.
1st Sold. Ah! What good will our fire-sides do us, when we think how our General is lodged?
Ost. Farewell! March on as quickly as you may: you shall all drink my health to-morrow evening in a good hogshead of Rhenish.
1st Sold. (with others.) God grant we may! (1st to Prior.) Look to it, reverend Prior: if our General be not with us by to-morrow's sunset, St. Maurice shall neither have monastery nor monks on this mountain.
Ost. No more! (Embracing first Officer, and shaking hands with others.) Farewell ! Farewell!
(The Soldiers, after giving him a loud cheer, march off with their Officers to martial music, and exeunt Osterloo, Prior, and Monks into the monastery, while the Peasants disappear amongst the rocks. Manent Morand and Agnes, who has for some time appeared, looking over a crag.)
Agn. Morand, Morand!
Mor. Ha! art thou there? I might have guessed indeed, that so brave a sight would not ​escape thee. What made thee perch thyself like an eagle upon such a crag as that?
Agn. Chide not, good Morand, but help me down, lest I pay a dearer price for my sight than thou, with all thy grumbling, wouldst wish. (He helps her down.)
Mor. And now thou art going no doubt to tell the Lady Leonora, what a band of gallant fellows thou hast seen.
Agn. Assuredly, if I can find in my heart to speak of any but their noble leader!—What is his name? What meaning had all that drawing of lots in it? What will the monks do with him? Walk with me a little way towards the castle, brave Morand, and tell me what thou knowest.
Mor. I should walk to the castle and miles beyond it too, ere I could answer so many questions, and I have duty in the monastery, besides.
Agn. Come with me a little way, at least.
Mor. Ah, Witch! thou knowest too well that I must always do what thou biddest me. [Exeunt. ​
SCENE III.
The Refectory of the Monastery, with a small Table, on which are placed Refreshments, discovered in one Corner. Enter Osterloo, Prior, Benedict, Jerome, and Paul, &c.
Prior. Noble Osterloo, let me welcome you here, as one appointed by heaven to purchase our deliverance from this dreadful malady; and I hope the price to be paid for it will not be a heavy one. Yet ere we proceed further in this matter, be entreated, I pray, to take some refreshment after your long march. (The table is placed near the front of the stage.)
Ost. I thank you, my Lord; this is a gentle beginning to my penance: I will, then, by your leave.(Sitting down at the table.) I have fasted long, and am indeed somewhat exhausted.(After taking some refreshment.) Ah! My poor Soldiers! You must still endure two hours' weary march, before you find such indulgence. Your wine is good, reverend Father.
Prior. I am glad you find it so; it is old.
Ost. (cheerfully.) And your viands are good too; and your bread is delicious.(Drinking another cup.) I shall have vigour now for any thing.———Pray tell me something more of this wonderful ​vision: was it a Saint or an Angel that appeared to the Senior Brother?
Prior. (pointing to Jerome.) He will answer for himself, and (pointing to Paul) this man saw it also.
Jer. It was neither Angel nor Saint, noble Count, but a mortal form wonderfully noble.
Ost. And it appeared to you in the usual manner of a dream?
Jer. It did; at least I know no sensible distinction. A wavy envelopement of darkness preceded it, from which appearances seemed dimly to wake into form, till all was presented before me in the full strength of reality.
Paul. Nay, Brother, it broke upon me at once; a vivid distinct apparition.
Ost. Well, be that as it may; what did appear to you? A mortal man, and very noble?
Jer. Yes, General. Methought I was returning from mass, through the cloisters that lead from the chapel, when a figure, as I have said, appeared to me, and beckoned me to follow it. I did follow it; for at first I was neither afraid, nor even surprised; but so wonderfully it rose in stature and dignity as it strode before me, that, ere it reached the door of the stranger's burying vault, I was struck with unaccountable awe.
Ost. The stranger's burying vault!
Prior. Does any sudden thought strike you, Count?
​ Ost. No, no! here's your health, Fathers; (drinking;) your wine is excellent.
Prior. But that is water you have just now swallowed: this is the wine.
Ost. Ha! is it? No matter, no matter! it is very good too. (A long pause; Osterloo with his eyes fixed thoughtfully on the ground.)
Prior. Shall not our brother proceed with his story, General?
Ost. Most certainly: I have been listening for it.
Jer. Well, then, as I have said, at the door of the stranger's burying vault it stopped, and beckoned me again. It entered, and I followed it. There, through the damp mouldering tombs, it strode still before me, till it came to the farther extremity, as nearly as I could guess, two yards westward from the black marble monument; and then, stopping and turning on me its fixed and ghastly eyes, it stretched out its hands———
Ost. Its hands! Did you say, its hands?
Jer. It stretched out one of them; the other was covered with its mantle; and in a voice that sounded—I know not how it sounded——
Paul. Aye, Brother; it was something like a voice, at least it conveyed words to the mind, though it was not like a voice neither.
Jer. Be that as you please: these words it solemnly uttered,—"Command the Brothers of this monastery, on pain of falling victims to the pestilence now devastating the country, to stop ​on its way the first division of the Imperial army that shall march through your mountain pass; and chuse from it, by lot, a man who shall abide one night within these walls, to make expiation for long concealed guilt. Let the suffering be such as the nature of the crime and the connection of the expiator therewith shall dictate. This spot of earth shall reveal—" It said no more, but bent its eyes steadfastly upon me with a stern threatening frown, which became, as it looked, keener than the looks of any mortal being, and vanished from my sight.
Paul. Aye, that look; that last terrible look! it awoke me with terror, and I know not how it vanished.
Jer. This has been repeated to me three times; last night twice in the course of the night, while brother Paul here was at the same time terrified with a similar apparition.
Prior. This, you will acknowledge, Count, was no common visitation, and could not but trouble us.
Ost. You say well.———Yet it was but a dream.
Prior. True; it was but a dream, and as such these pious men strove to consider it; when the march of your troops across our mountains, a thing so unlikely to happen, compelled them to reveal to me, without loss of time, what had appeared to them.
Ost. A tall figure, you say, and of a noble aspect?
​ Jer. Like that of a King, though habited more in the garb of a foreign soldier of fortune than of a state so dignified. (Osterloo rises from table agitated.)
Prior. What is the matter, General? Will you not finish your repast?
Ost. I thank you; I have had enough. The night grows cold; I would rather walk than sit.
(Going hastily to the bottom of the stage, and pacing to and fro.)
Jer. (aside to Paul and the Prior.) What think ye of this?
Prior. (aside to Jerome.) His countenance changed several times as he listened to you; there is something here different from common surprise on hearing a wonderful thing.
(Enter a Peasant by the bottom of the stage, bearing a torch.)
Peas. (eagerly, as he enters.) We have found it.
Ost. (stopping short in his walk.) What hast thou found?
Peas. What the Prior desired us to dig for.
Ost. What is that?
Peas. A grave.
(Osterloo turns from him suddenly, and paces up and down very rapidly.)
Prior. (to Peas.) Thou hast found it?
Peas. Aye, please you, and in the very spot, near the black monument, where your reverence desired us to dig. And it is well you sent ​for my kinsman and I to do it, for there is not a lay-brother in the monastery strong enough to raise up the great stones that covered it.
Prior. In the very spot, sayest thou?
Peas. In the very spot.
Prior. Bear thy torch before us, and we'll follow thee.
Omnes. (eagerly, Osterloo excepted.} Let us go immediately.
Prior. (to Osterloo, who stands fixed to the spot.) Will not Count Osterloo go also? It is fitting that he should.
Ost. (rousing himself.) O, most assuredly: I am perfectly ready to follow you. [Exeunt