# Miscellaneous Plays/Rayner Act 1

RAYNER.
ACT I.
SCENE I. A noise of voices and unruly merriment is heard, whilst the curtain draws up, and discovers Count Zaterloo, Bernard, Sebastian, and others of their band, seated round a table with wine, &c.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Should some grave stranger, on his way misled, Now push the door a-jar, and look upon us Thus set, what class of men mould we be deem'd? A set of light hearts, snug in fortune's lap, Who will not go to bed because we may? Or club of sharpers, flush'd with full success, New from the spoiling of some simple fool? Or troop of strolling players, at our ease, After the labours of our kingly sorrows, With throats new cool'd at as great charge of wine As our tough lungs have cost of lady's tears?
BERNARD.
He'd take thee for the heir of some old miser,
Treating thy friends, as first fruits of thy kingdom, With flowing bumpers to the quiet rest Of thy good kinsman's soul,
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Lank and unsuited to all mirth, would mark thee The undertaker, who amongst the guests Had come on matters of his sable trade, Grinning a strange, uncomely, jaw-bone smile O'er the fair prospect of his future gains.
SEBASTIAN.
He scarcely would discover needy men, Who better days have seen.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Which of you sung that song with merry lay Some few nights since? Come, let us have it now.
SONG.
Ye who fain would happy be, Give the hand, and join with me: They who toil the weary day, They who bend with locks of grey, They who tread the beaten way, Fools who work that we may play,
Fold their weary arms to sleep, Come, let us our vigil keep.
Fellows, join, and never fear; Ye who would be happy, hear. With the sober and the meek, Lighter flies the passing week? In his dwelling warm and sleek, Brighter smiles the rich man's cheek? Wiser things may wise men say, But we are wiser far than they.
Come, light spirits, light and free, Wisest they who foolish be. He who hammers at the pot, He who brews for every sot, He who made my hose and coat, Is a better man I wot; Yet were we form'd, events declare, He to work and I to wear.
Mistress of the misty shroud, O, lovely moon! come from thy cloud. When thou o'erlook'st the ocean's brine, Ourselves we view in floods of wine. Our constancy resembles thine; Like thee in borrowed robes we shine; Then let us, in thy kindred light, Still wake, the rulers of the night.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
He was a social jolly-hearted mate, And had a knack of making ready rhymes.
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO (pretending not to hear).
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO. (still pretending not to hear).
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
For when thou get'st a notion by the skirt, Thou, like an English bull-dog, keep'st thy hold, And wilt not let it go.— He shot himself in prison some months since: Now, there's thine answer for thee; art thou satisfied?
(A deep and long pause; then Zaterloo starts up as if he recollected something.)
SEBASTIAN.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Whose valiant father left him but his sword And his proud spirit, thro' this changeful world To shape his way, with heart as truly tempered To all the softest witch'ries of refinement As e'er own'd cherish'd heir of wide domains, In palace nurs'd.
SEBASTIAN.
But he since then has of a foreign state The soldier been; and had not now returned, But in the hope, 'tis laid, of being heir To his great uncle's vast and rich possessions, Of which that villain Hubert has depriv'd him With treach'rous wiles. Poor heart! he has my pity. 'Tis said a ling'ring fever seiz'd upon him From disappointment; and I marvel not; The stroke was most severe.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
For that he left behind him, in the country To which he now belongs, a gentle maid And his betroth'd, with whom he thought to share
His promis'd wealth. But these things rest,—Thus driven as we are To this uncertain, daring course of life, The stronger and the more respectable Our band, the greater chance of prospering. Our number is too small; and, by my soul, To see a mean, plebeian, vulgar knave, Admitted of our fellowship, still rubs Against my nature. Such a man as Rayner Is precious, and, once gain'd, is sure and steadfast. But few days since I met him, dark and thoughtful, With melancholy and unwonted gait Slow saunt'ring thro' lone, unfrequented paths, Like one whose soul from man's observing eye Shrinks gall'd, as shrinks the member newly torn, From every slightest touch. Seeing him thus, I mark'd him for my man,
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
"Thou see'st I am unhappy, go thy ways," He fretful said, and turn'd. I still persisted, With soothing words which thrill'd against his heart, (For in our youthful days we once were playmates,) Like the sweet tones of some forgotten song, Till, like a pent-up flood swoln to the height, He pour'd his griefs into my breast with tears,
Such as the manliest men in their cross'd lives Are sometimes forc'd to shed,
SEBASTIAN.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
He was reserv'd; but that part of his story, Which I from sure authority have learnt, I still thro' broken words could shrewdly read, Altho' he nam'd it not.
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Suff'ring such wrongs as Hubert's artful baseness Has put upon him, he will scruple long, Thus circumstanc'd, to join his arm with ours In murd'ring the rich villain?
BERNARD (looking at Sebastian, who shrinks back).
Still makes Sebastian, like a squeamish dame, Shrink and look lily-fac'd. To shoot a man As one in battle shoots a fronted foe; As from the tavern's broil, in measur'd field, One shoots a friend, is nought:—but that word murder—
It hath a horrid sound; pray thee, good captain, Remember 'tis a band of gentlemen Thou dost command, and let such gentle phrase Fall from thy tongue as gentle ears may suit. (Omnes laughing loud at Sebastian.)
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Enter Rayner.
These are my friends, of whom I well might boast; But that it seems like boasting of myself. Here, take your place, and join our fellowship. There is but little need of ceremony With those whom like misfortunes bring together.
RAYNER.
And so far to misfortune am indebted, Which has procur'd it for me.(Sits down.)
BERNARD (drinking to Rayner).
To that which makes, at fortune's lowest ebb, A few brave men united, mock the world And all its good-boy rules; enabling them Boldly to seize their portion of life's feast, Which griping av'rice or unjust oppression Would from them snatch, whilst with insulting scorn It mocks their poverty and patient want.
RAYNER.
That those who bear misfortunes over meekly Do but persuade mankind that they and want Are all too fitly match'd to be disjoin'd, And so to it they leave them.
BERNARD.
Even good men then neglect them; but the base, They, who by mean and undermining arts To o'ergrown wealth attain, like the ass's heel 'Gainst the sick lion's low and lanken breast Spurn at them.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
For I myself, who, as thou know'st right well, Am not too meekly to misfortune bent, Have somewhat of the worthless ass's kick Against my bosom felt.—'Lone and unarm'd— Had but one brave companion by my side My anger shar'd, full dearly had the knave— But let it pass—he had a brave man's curse, And that will rest upon him.
BERNARD.
Thou speak'st in mystery.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Upon a narrow path rais'd from a road With mud choak'd up, behind me trampling came, A band of liv'ried rascals at his heels, In all his awkward state, a puff'd-up worldling, And rode me off my way; whilst looking back, He turned his head with a malicious grin At the poor spatter'd wretch, who in the mud Stood showering curses on him.
RAYNER.
That makes the poor man poor. Thou wert unarmed?
COUNT ZATERLOO.
I should have spent a brace of bullets on him With much good-will.
RAYNER.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Thou know'st him well: he is a rich man now; His name is Hubert.
RAYNER.
Than him who bears it.—But thou know'st it all. When from a distant country, where with honour I earn'd a soldier's pittance, the fair promises Of a near kinsman tempted me, and I, Tho' by my nature most incautious, And little skill'd to gain by flatt'ring arts An old man's love, high in his favour stood; That villain Hubert rous'd his jealous nature With artful tales of slights and heir-like wishes, And side-long mock'ry of his feebleness, Till, in the bitterness of changed love, All his vast wealth he did bequeath to him, And left me here, ev'n in this stranger's land, (For years of absence makes it so to me,) A disappointed, friendless, unknown man, Poor and depressed, such as you see me now.
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO (starting up with affected vehemence).
(they all start up.) Defended by a host of liv'ried knaves, I'd seek him out alone.
BERNARD.
We will all join thee in so good a cause.
FIRST GENTLEMAN.
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
We never can be bold in better cause.
THIRD GENTLEMAN (on receiving a sign from Zaterloo).
For I am well inform'd that on to-morrow, With all his treasure, for a distant province He will begin his journey towards eve.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
How goes he guarded?
THIRD GENTLEMAN.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Whilst we but seek revenge for a friend's wrongs, So kindly throws into our heedless way The easy cure of our necessities. Yes, let us seize the greedy glutted villain!
Let us disgorge him of his ill-got gains! He long enough has rioted in ease, Whilst better men have felt the gripe of want.
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
RAYNER.
They fill your breasts, in strong desire of vengeance Ye well may guess I am not far behind: But there's a law above all human bonds, Which damps the eager beating of my heart, And says, "do thou no murder."
COUNT ZATERLOO.
We both are form'd, my friend, to know like feelings, Like wants and wishes, and from better days Both are reduced to fortune's lowed ebb: And I as well as thou, standing thus singly, Can feed my fancy up with strong conceits Of what in letter'd lore is virtue term'd, And bear its darkest frowns. There was a time, When sharing ev'ry wish and ev'ry view With one of weaker frame and softer soul;
Yet forced by the dark frowns of adverse fortune To live a willing outlaw from her presence, Because I could not bear to come before her A poor despised man, rest of that comeliness And honest grace which independence gives, To bid her throw aside her flowing robes And decent ornaments of maiden pride, Unveil the sweetness of her shelter'd beauty To beating mid-day heats and chilling winds, And be a wand'ring vagrant by my side;— There was a time, my friend, when thus beset At view of any means to better fortune, A stronger pow'r had ris'n within my breast And mock'd at law. But, standing thus alone, I can as well as thou forego the gain Which this occafion offers.—Let it pass! There is within us, be it superstition, Th' unscann'd opinions from our childhood cherish'd, Or natural instinct, still a strong aversion To ev'ry act of blood. Let us yield to it, We will not strain our nature from its bent: We'll do no violent deed.
RAYNER (catching hold of Zaterloo with great agitation).
Wert thou—Wert thou indeed thus circumstanc'd? And thy deserted love; what was her fate?
COUNT ZATERLOO.
One lovely bush of the pale virgin thorn, Bent o'er a little heap of lowly turf, Is all the sad memorial of her worth; All that remains to mark where she is laid.
RAYNER.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
This hour was meant for social fellowship: Resume your seats, my friends, and, gentle Rayner, Clear up thy cloudy brows and take thy place.
RAYNER.
COUNT ZATERLOO (gently forcing him to sit down).
Thou must perforce a social hour or two Spend with us. To ye all, my noble friends, I fill this cup. (drinks.) ———Bernard, how goes thy suit? Hast thou yet to thy greedy Lawyer's pocket Convey'd thy hindmost ducat? Ha, ha, ha! Had he, with arms in hand, ta'en from thee boldly Half of the sum, thou would'st have call'd him robber. Ha, ha,, ha! (laughing heartily.)
BERNARD.
We nice distinctions make.—I had an uncle, Who once upon a time——
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Thy story will be shorter than thy suit.
(Rayner, who has been sitting in gloomy thoughtfulness, without attending to any thing around him, whilst Zaterloo has been keeping an eye of observation on him, now rises up in great agitation to go away.)
COUNT ZATERLOO.
RAYNER.
Let me take leave, I pray you.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
RAYNER.
There is a strong temptation fasten'd on me. I am not well.
COUNT ZATERLOO (aside to Bernard).
This will do——— (Aloud and preventing Rayner from going.) If thou'rt unwell, art thou not with thy friends?
RAYNER.
To force me to my ruin, let me go— Let me go to my home.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
With griping Landlord clam'ring in thine ears For what he knows thou can'st not give, thy home?
RAYNER (sighing deeply).
COUNT ZATERLOO.
In the next chamber thou shalt rest a while. Lead him, my kind Sebastian, by the hand: There is a sort of woman's kindliness About thy nature which befits thee best To be a sick man's friend. I'll follow you.
(Exit Rayner, leaning on Sebastian, turning about to his friends triumphantly as they go off.)
But hark! a voice without! It is my mother's. Secure the lettic'd door. Plague on her kindness To haunt me here! I have forgot my promise. (To Bernard.) Make fast the lettic'd door and answer for me.
BERNARD (after fastening a door of lettice work through which the Countess is seen).
COUNTESS ZATERLOO (Without).
BERNARD.
COUNTESS ZATERLOO (without).
Tell him I have sat these three long hours, Counting the weary beatings of the clock, Which slowly portion'd out the promis'd time That brought him not to bless me with his sight. If he is well, why does he thus forget? And if he is not, as I fear he is not, Tell me the worst, and let me be with him To smooth his couch and raise his sickly head.
COUNT ZATERLOO (aside to Bernard).
To runabout like a new foolish wife.
BERNARD.
We shall believe you seek a second husband In lieu of your good son; and by my truth It were a better errand.
COUNTESS ZATERLOO.
My son is not with you: it cannot be: I did him wrong to seek him in such company.
BERNARD (speaking loud after her as she retires from the door).
Of worthy, sober, well-disposed folks, Who once a week do offer up their prayers And chant most faintly hymns till morning dawn, It is more likely you will find him there. (Omnes laughing)
COUNT ZATERLOO.
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Thinks she, thus ripen'd to these manly years, That I must run whene'er my finger aches To lean my silly head upon her lap? 'Tis well I have no wife.
BERNARD.
There is no pleasing those high legal dames With endless claims upon a man's regard: Heaven save us from them all!
COUNT ZATERLOO.
He is a fool indeed who parts with that. (A loud voice and bustling heard without.) What's this comes next to plague us?
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Detains me from her banquet?
BERNARD.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
(Conceals himself, and Mira appears thro' the latticed door.)
MIRA (without).
BERNARD.
My beauteous Mira; and I needs must say That now you may not pass.—— He's much concern'd: early upon the morrow He will be with you.
MIRA.
He shall to-night go with me where I list,
Or never see my face again. To-morrow! Open the door I say! this weakly barrier Shall not oppose my way. (Beating violently against the door.)
COUNT ZATERLOO (aside to Bernard).
She may do some rash thing, if we persist.
(Bernard unbolts the door; Zaterloo comes from his concealment; and enter Mira, superbly dress'd, and in a violent passion.)
MIRA.
Is this your faith? is this your gallantry?
COUNT ZATERLOO.
I sent to tell thee bus'ness of great moment.
MIRA.
And well I know that ev'ry paltry matter Is cause sufficient for neglecting me.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
MIRA.
To comfort ye the while, (pointing to the wine, &c.) You do your bus'ness jovially, methinks.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Of aught but want of love.
MIRA.
Thou talk'st of love and thou wouldst break my heart.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Yet be not thus: in token of forgiveness This friendly cup receive, and smile upon me. (Offering her a cup, which she dashes to the ground.)
MIRA.
Will I receive; I scorn thy offering. Ev'n the rich robe thou hast so often promis'd me: Ay and so oft forgot, so I must call it, I would now scorn, since thou dost slight my love.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
Before two days be past: I swear to thee. Then do not look so frowningly, my love; I know thou hast a soft relenting nature; Smile my forgiveness.
MIRA.
It is thyself and not thy gifts I prize: Thou know'st too well how my fond doating heart Is moved with the soft witch'ry of thy tongue; Yet thou wilt vex me thus, and break my heart. Oh! 'tis too much! (pretending to burst into tears.)
COUNT ZATERLOO.
MIRA.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
MIRA.
O that some friendly hand would end my days, Since I have lived to see me thus despis'd.
COUNT ZATERLOO (aside to Bernard).
See thou to Rayner: I will soon return. (Aloud.) Then let us go, my love, thou dost compel me. Thy hand, sweet Mira. (Exeunt Zaterloo and Mira.)
BERNARD.
Our noble chief enjoys. I must to Rayner.
Stay if you will, and keep ye merry here. (Omnes.) No, we are tir'd, we will retire to rest. (Exeunt.
SCENE II. Rayner's Lodgings.
Enter RAYNER alone.
RAYNER.
Changing like restless waves, but ever dark; Or some one of you o'er his fellows rife, And bear a steady rule. Adversity! Thou'st come upon me like an ambush'd foe In armed strength. If I had mark'd thy course, I might have girt myself for thine approach, While distant still, and met thee like a man. But when new-fetter'd in a lover's bonds, And dazzled too with hope's deceitful brightness, Cam'st thou like a thick cloud of desart sand, And in dark night o'erwhelm'd me: deepest night, Thro' which no waking vision ever gleams, Save thy grim visage only, loathly want, In all thy varied forms of misery. My night, my day dreams, ah! how are ye changed, Since in the new-betroth'd, the lover's fancy, Ye wove your sheeny maze of mingled thoughts, Like sparkling dew-webs in the early Sun! (after a pause.) Elizabeth! methinks ev'n now I see her, As in the horrors of my last night's dream, When, after following her thro' flood and fire,
She turn'd to me, and her weak arms stretch'd forth. But ah! how changed, how pale, and spent, and keen! As if already blighting poverty, That portion which her love must share with me, Had marr'd—cease, cease, base thought, it shall not be!
(Enter Herman with a knapsack on his back, as if prepared for a journey.)
HERMAN.
RAYNER.
HERMAN.
RAYNER (assuming a look of cheerfulness).
HERMAN.
RAYNER.
HERMAN.
RAYNER.
(Pushing Herman gently off the stage, who wipes his eyes and seems unwilling to go.)
Exit Herman.)
RAYNER (alone).
That e'er hath loved or cared for me. Methinks I now can better look i'th' surly face Mine alter'd state, and bear to be in want. I am alone, and I am glad of it. Alas! chang'd heart of mine! what is that state Which gives to thee such thoughts?—Elizabeth— At it again! This strong idea still!
I am distracted when I think of this, Therefore I must not, if I would be honest. Those men—or are they men or are they devils? With whom I met last night; they've fasten'd on me Fell thoughts, which, tho' I spurn them, haunt me still. Would I had never met them!—— Here comes my landlord with his surly face Of debts and claims, and ev'ry irksome thing. (Enter Landlord with a letter.) Good morrow, Landlord.
LANDLORD.
RAYNER.
LANDLORD (giving it).
RAYNER (agitated).
LANDLORD.
RAYNER.
LANDLORD.
RAYNER (after opening the letter with great emotion and reading it).
Abandon'd by the friend with whom she liv'd, And coming here to join me with all speed! O God! O God! (sinks down upon a chair in violent agitation.)
LANDLORD. (running up to him).
RAYNER.
Enter COUNT ZATERLOO.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
(To Landlord.) Speak to me, friend: he heeds not what I say: Has any new misfortune happen'd to him?
LANDLORD.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
A friend is come to thee.
RAYNER (starting up).
Com'st thou upon me now, my tempter? now, Ev'n in my very moment of distraction? Thou know'st thy time: some fiend has whisper'd to thee. Ay, ay! say what thou wilt.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
To say aught to thee which an honest ear Might not receive; nor will I even speak, Since it so moves thee——
RAYNER (interrupting him eagerly).
Thou must speak that, which, in its darkest hour, Push'd to extremity, 'midst ringing dizziness The ear of desperation doth receive, And I must listen to it.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
We are o'erheard. (looking suspiciously to Landlord, who has retired a few paces behind.) Come with me to my lodgings; There wait my friends; all things shall be concerted: Come with me instantly; the time is precious.
RAYNER (in a tone of despair, clasping his hands vehemently).
(Exeunt Count Zaterloo and Rayner:
Manet Landlord.
LANDLORD (coming forward).
What's this I've overheard? Is this devil now going to tempt the poor distressed young man to do some foul deed in his necessity?—I have tempted him too, with my hard-hearted murmuring about the few wretched pounds that he owes me. I'll run after him and say, I don't care whether he pay me or not. (running to the door and then stopping ​short.) No, no! softly, softly! I dare say it is only some sharping business they have got on hand, such as needy Gentlemen are sometimes forced to follow: if I have got my conscience newly cleared off at confession last week, and I am to make an offering next holy day to the shrine of our patron St. Bernard; this is no time, goodsooth, to lose such a sum upon scruples. (Exit.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.