# Miscellaneous Plays/Rayner Act 5

ACT V.
A spacious outer Room in the Prison.
Enter an Under-Jailor and a Clown.
CLOWN.
JAILOR.
CLOWN.
Enter two Executioners, speaking as they enter.
FIRST EXECUTIONER.
SECOND EXECUTIONER.
FIRST EXECUTIONER.
SECOND EXECUTIONER.
FIRST EXECUTIONER.
SECOND EXECUTIONER.
(Jailor coming forward, with the Clown creeping after him, half afraid.)
JAILOR.
SECOND EXECUTIONER.
FIRST EXECUTIONER.
JAILOR.
FIRST EXECUTIONER.
CLOWN (abashed).
FIRST EXECUTIONER.
CLOWN.
FIRST EXECUTIONER.
CLOWN (shrinking from him again).
FIRST EXECUTIONER (to Second Executioner).
(Exeunt Executioners.
CLOWN.
JAILOR.
CLOWN (starting).
JAILOR.
CLOWN.
(Exeunt Clown and Jailor.
SCENE II. A dungeon; Rayner discovered sitting at a table by the light of a lamp, with a book in his hand; the clock from a neighbouring steeple strikes three, and he, roused with the sound, lays down the book.
RAYNER.
The time comes on apace with silent speed.
Is it indeed so late?(Looking at his watch.)
It is even so.
(Pausing, and looking still at the watch.)
How soon time flies away! yet, as I watch it,
Methinks, by the flow progress of this hand,
I should have liv'd an age since yesterday,
And have an age to live. Still on it creeps,
Each little moment at another's heels,
Till hours, days, years, and ages are made up
Of such small parts as these, and men look back,
Worn and bewilder'd, wond'ring how it is.
Thou trav'llest like a ship in the wide ocean,
Which hath no bounding shore to mark its progress; O Time! ere long I shall have done with thee.
When next thou leadest on thy nightly shades,
Tho' many a weary heart thy steps may count,
Thy midnight 'larum shall not waken me.
Then shall I be a thing, at thought of which
The roused foul swells boundless and sublime,
Or wheels in wildness of unfathom'd fears:
A thought; a consciousness; unbodied spirit.
Who but would shrink from this? It goes hard with thee,
Social connected man; it goes hard with thee
To be turned out into a state unknown,
From all thy kind, an individual being.
But wherefore shrink? came we not thus to earth?
And he who sent, prepar'd reception for us. Ay, glorious are the things that are prepar'd,
As we believe!—yet, heaven pardon me!
I fain would sculk beneath my wonted cov'ring, Mean as it is.
Ah, Time! when next thou fill'st thy nightly term,
Where shall I be? Fye! fye upon thee still!
E'en where weak infancy, and tim'rous age,
And maiden fearfulness have gone before thee;
And where, as well as him of firmest soul,
The meanly-minded and the coward are.
Then trust thy nature, at th'approaching push,
The mind doth shape itself to its own wants,
Fain would I rest a while. This weary frame
Has but a little more to do for me,
And yet it asks for rest. I'll lay me down:
It may be possible that I shall sleep,
After these weary tossings of the mind;
Enter Ohio, creeping out from a hiding-place at the bottom of the stage and going softly up to Rayner, looks for some time upon him with a malicious grin.
OHIO.
Dost sleep? ay, they will waken thee ere long, And cut thy head off. They'll put thee to rest;
They'll close thine eyes for thee without thy leave;
They'll bloat thy white skin for thee, lily-face.
Come, less harm will I do thee than thy fellows:
My sides are cold: a dead man needs no cloak.
(Beginning gently to pull Rayner's cloak, who starts from his sleep, and looks at him in amazement.)
RAYNER.
What thing art thou? and what would'st thou with me?
OHIO.
RAYNER.
Where dost thou run to now? where wert thou hid?
OHIO (after running to his hiding-place, and fetching out a stick, which he presents to Rayner).
RAYNER.
I'm sorry thou art cold; here is my cloak:
Thou hast said well; a dead man needs it not.
I know thee now; thou art the wretched negro
Who serves the prisoners; I have observ'd thee:
I'm sorry for thee; thou art bare enough, And winter is at hand.
OHIO.
Where wert thou born who art so pitiful?
I will not take thy cloak, but I will love thee. They shail not cut thy head off.
RAYNER.
Go sculk within thy hiding place again,
And, when the cell is open'd, save thyself.
OHIO.
RAYNER.
OHIO.
RAYNER.
I hear them at the door. (Pushes him hastily off.)
Enter Hardibrand, advancing slowly to Rayner, his eyes cast upon the ground.
RAYNER.
Why dost thou turn thine eyes aside, and fear
To look me in the face? Is there upon it
Aught that betrays the workings of the mind
Too strongly mark'd? I will confess to thee
I've struggl'd hard, I've felt the fears of nature;
But yet I have the spirit of a man
That will uphold me: therefore, my brave friend, Do me the grace to look upon me boldly;
I'll not disgrace thee.
HARDIBRAND.
I know thou'lt not disgrace me, nor will I
Put shame on thee by wearing on this morn
A weeping face: I will be valiant too.
We will not, Rayner, tho' thou'rt thus—Oh! oh!
(Bursting into tears.)
RAYNER.
Wilt thou oppress me thus?
HARDIBRAND.
And I will brave it. But to thee, my son,
In thy distress, encompass'd as thou art,
My heart so strongly has enlink'd itself,
That to part from thee, boy, is——
(Falling on his neck, and bursting again into tears.)
Enter Mardonio.
MARDONIO (after looking at them for some time, and in a solemn imposing tone of voice).
But there doth live a power that to the battle
Girdeth the weak: Heaven's vivifying grace, And strength, and holy confidence be thine,
RAYNER.
And I do feel their strength. Beneath that hand
Which hath in mercy stricken me, I bow;
Y'ea bow, the nobler and the bolder grown
For such humility.—(Familiarly) How goes the time?
Does day begin to dawn?
MARDONIO.
RAYNER.
But only those which I have mention'd to you.
Yet, in this solemn hour, let me remind you:—
My poor Elizabeth———
HARDIBRAND (eagerly).
She is my child and heiress of my lands
To the last rood.—Ah! what avails it now!
RAYNER.
Whose day is closed? I will attempt no thanks.
The other wish that closely presses on me:—
Mardonio, upon thee must hang this boon:—
That miserable man of whom I've told you;
Now living in the hell of his remorse,
Cut off from human intercourse; whose horrors
And midnight visions sav'd this hand from blood:
I fain———
HARDIBRAND (again eagerly interrupting him).
And shall with human beings yet consort
In blessed charity, if ghostly care
From holiest men procur'd, or off'rings made
To ev'ry sacred shrine on christian ground
Can give him peace.
RAYNER (smiling and pressing Hardibrand to his bosom).
Of eager youth dost thou, mine aged friend,
Take every thing upon thee. Be it so.
And good Mardonio with his sober counsel
Will aid thy bounty. Here I join your hands;
My worldly cares are clos'd.
Enter Elizabeth, followed by Richard and Bertram, who remains on the back ground whilst she comes slowly forward; Rayner turning round on hearing them enter. Ah! who is this?
Alas! alas! it is Elizabeth.
(Holding out his hand to her.)
Advance, my love; thou'rt ever welcome here.
How does it fare with thee?
ELIZABETH.
I know not how it fares with me.
RAYNER.
Thou gentle soul! a dark cloud o'er thee hangs,
But the sun will again break thro' the gloom, And, in the soberness of calm remembrance,
Thou wilt look back upon misfortunes past
Like tempests that are laid. Thou dost not heed me:
Thou dost not speak to me. Alas! Alas!
What shall I say to thee?
I've lov'd thee well, and would have lov'd thee long,
Had it so been—But thou shalt be belov'd!
Heaven will take charge of thee when I'm at rest:
The kindly and the good shall be thy kindred,
(Putting her hand in Hardibrand's.)
And ev'ry sorrowful and gentle heart
Shall knit itself to thee, and call thee sister.
(Elizabeth makes a motion with her hand as if she would speak, and he pauses, but she is silent.)
MARDONIO.
RAYNER.
Need'st thou to tell me how thou'st dearly lov'd me,
And dearly do I prize it; 'tis my pride,
E'en humbl'd as I am, it is my pride.
Heaven's dearest blessings rest upon thy head!—
And now, since we must part, do in thy love,
Do for me this last grace; bid me farewel,
And let my earthly sorrows now be clos'd.
Heaven's blessing rest upon thee!
(He kisses her, and she turns to go away, Rayner looking after her as she goes, but presently returns again.)
RAYNER.
ELIZABETH (in a broken voice).
But it is gone.
RAYNER.
It is a good one, tho' thou canst not speak it, And it will do me good. But leave me! leave me!
Thou wilt unfit me for a task of strength.
(Elizabeth again attempts to go away, but still returns.)
ELIZABETH.
It is all mist and darkness with me now:
I look upon thee, but I see thee not.
Let me once more but feel thy hand in mine
And send me where ye will: my being then
RAYNER (to Bertram and Richard).
My father died i' the field a valiant death,
And shall his son upon the scaffold die
O'ercome and weak, reft of that decent firmness
Which ev'n the base and vulgar there assume?
O lead her hence! in mercy lead her hence!
(Bertram and Richard tear her from him, and lead her away, whilst he turns his back, and hides his face with his hands.)
ELIZABETH (stopping short, and tossing up her arms distractedly as they are leading her out).
I hear it yet again!
RAYNER (uncovering his face, and looking about eagerly, whilst Hardibrand rushes forward impetuously from the bottom of the stage, where he has been pacing backward and forward with hasty strides).
MARDONIO.
Of fond distraction list'ning to itself.
HARDIBRAND.
BERTRAM.
HARDIBRAND.
RICHARD.
ELIZABETH (holding up her arm distractedly as Richard and Bertram lead her off).
(Exeunt Elizabeth, Richard, and Bertram, whilst Rayner, uttering a deep groan, hides his face, and Hardibrand returns with hasty strides to the bottom of the stage.
RAYNER (uncovering his face).
MARDONIO.
RAYNER.
(Stepping forward with assumed firmness.)
What of it now remains we shall o'er-master.
Pray thee how goes the time? But pardon me!
I have too oft enquir'd how goes the time:
It is my weakness.
MARDONIO.
RAYNER.
We too shall put ourselves in forwardness:
And so, good father, to your ghostly guidance
I do commend rnyself.
Enter Jailor.
JAILOR.
And wait the presence of the prisoner,
RAYNER.
But 'tis so much the better.
(To Mardonio aside.)
Shall we have time allow'd us for retirement,
Before they lead me forth?
MARDONIO.
RAYNER.
'Twill soon be past; the work goes on apace.
(Taking hold of Hardibrand and Mardonio as he goes out.)
My head feels dizzy, but my limbs are firm. Good Hardibrand, think'st thou I shall disgrace thee?
HARDIBRAND.
To hack for crow's meat if thou shrink'st one hair's breadth
From the comportment of a gallant soldier,
And of a brave man's son.
RAYNER (smiling with a gratified look).
Methinks I now tread, as I onward move,
With more elastic and dilating step,
As if a spirit of pride within me stirr'd,
Buoying me up on the swoln billows ridge. (Exeunt.
SCENE III. An outer garden room or portico in the house where Zaterloo is concealed; enter Countess and a Confessor, with two Attendants bearing Zaterloo on a small couch, which they set down on the middle of the stage; the Attendants retire.
COUNTESS ZATERLOO.
How the fresh air revives him: say not then
All hope is banish'd quite.—Thou skak'st thy head:
But whilst I see upon his moving breast
One heave of breath, betok'ning life within,
I'll grasp at hope, and will not let it go.
(Bending over the couch.)
My son! my son! hear'st thou my voice, my son?
COUNT ZATERLOO.
'Tis a strong enemy that grapples with me,
And I must yield to him.—O pious father!
Pray thou for mercy on me.
COUNTESS ZATERLOO.
This holy man shall pray for thee; the shrines
Of holiest saints be gifted for thee; masses
And sacred hymns be chanted for thy peace:—
And thou thyself, even 'midst thine agony,
Had spoken precious words of heav'nly grace;
Therefore be comforted.
COUNT ZATERLOO (shaking his head).
That which abides me; and how short a space——
COUNTESS ZATERLOO.
CONFESSOR.
With flatt'ring hopes: his term is near its close;
Therefore, I do again entreat it of you,
Send off the messengcr with his confession,
Lest it should be too late to save the innocent,
And he be sent unto his long account
With a most heavy charge upon his head.
COUNTESS ZATERLOO.
Send here the messenger.(Calling off the stage.)
——His steed is ready:
He shall forthwith depart.
Enter Messenger.
CONFESSOR (to Messenger).
Go to the city to the governor,
And see thou give it into his own hand, With charges that he read it instantly.
It is of precious moment to his life
Who on the scaffold should this morning suffer.
Quick mount thy horse: few minutes goaded speed
Will take thee to the gates.
MESSENGER.
CONFESSOR.
MESSENGER.
The flooded river hath last night broke down
The nearer bridge?
CONFESSOR.
MESSENGER.
From bank to bank the red swoln river roars;
And on the deep and slowly-rolling mass
Of its strong centre-tide, grumly and dark,
The wrecks of cottages, whole ricks of grain,
Trunks of huge trees torn by the roots,—ay, save us!
And floating carcases of perish'd things,
Bloated and black, are borne along; whilst currents
Cross-set and furious, meeting adverse streams
On rude uneven surface, far beyond
The water's natural bed, do loudly war
And terrible contest hold; and swoltring eddies
With dizzy whirling fury, toss aloft
Their surgy waves i' the air, and scatter round
Their ceaseless bick'ring gleams of jagged foam, All fiercely whitening in the morning light.
Crowds now are standing upon either shore
In awful silence; not a sound is heard
But the flood's awful voice, and from the city
A dismal bell heard thro' the air by starts,
Already tolling for the execution.
CONFESSOR.
No, no! we'll not despair! Mount thy fleet horse,
Life and death's in thy speed:—
Let naught one moment stop thee on thy way:
All things are possible to vig'rous zeal:
Life and death's in thy speed: depart! depart!
And heaven be with thine efforts.
(Exit Messenger, after receiving the packet.
COUNT ZATERLOO.
CONFESSOR.
For unto human reck'ning 'tis impossible!
(To Countess with an upbraiding look.)
Half an hour sooner——
COUNTESS ZATERLOO.
Who could foresee this hindrance?—O, good father!
Look to thy penitent. Upon his count'nance
There's something new and terrible. Speak to him:
Go close to him, good father.—O my son!
COUNT ZATERLOO.
I am upon the brink, the dreadful brink:
It is a fearful gulf I have to shoot.
O yet support me! in this racking pain
I still may hold a space the grasp of life,
And keep back from the dark and horrid—Oh!
(uttering a deep groan) It is upon me!
(Struggles and expires with a faint groan. Countess, wringing her hands in agony of grief is hurried off the stage by the Confessor and Attendants, who rush in and take hold of her.)
SCENE IV. An open square before the great gate of the prison: a Crowd of spectators, with guards, &c. are discovered, waiting for the coming forth of Rayner to his execution, and a solemn bell is heard at intervals. The gate opens, and enter Rayner walking between Mardonio and Hardibrand, and followed by Richard and Bertram, preceded and followed by guards, officers, &c. The procession moves slowly over the stage, and exeunt, followed by the greater part of the Crowd, though a good many of them still remain upon the stage. Then re-enter Hardibrand and Richard, followed by one or two of the Crowd: Hardibrand walking up and down in a perturbed manner, and Richard leaning his back against the side-scene, where he continues motionless with his eyes fixed on the ground. The murmur of the multitude is heard for some time without, and then ceases, followed by a dead silence.
FIRST CROWD.
SECOND CROWD (looking out).
THIRD CROWD.
(A long pause.)
HARDIBRAND (starting and stopping suddenly, to First Crowd).
FIRST CROWD.
HARDIBRAND.
(First Crowd looks out.)
What dost thou gaze at with so broad an eye?
FIRST CROWD.
HARDIBRAND.
SECOND CROWD.
FIRST CROWD.
(Hardibrand turns hastily away, and rushes to the other end of the stage, whilst Richard gives a heavy groan, and still remains motionless. A shout is heard without.)
HARDIBRAND (returning furiously from the bottom of the stage).
May they bring down the welkin on their heads!
SECOND CROWD (to First Crowd).
FIRST CROWD.
Enter Ohio, running across the stage.
OHIO.
Enter a Messenger in great haste, followed by a Civil Officer.
FIRST CROWD.
MESSENGER.
FIRST CROWD.
MESSENGER.
FIRST CROWD.
MESSENGER.
HARDIBRAND (rushing upon the messenger and collaring him).
Had you upon some paltry wager strove,
You had run faster.—O, thou cursed fool!
O had'd thou sped, I'd made a rich man of thee!
MESSENGER (disentangling himself).
Those on the shore shrieking to see our boldness,
Have fearless swam some miles short of the pass
Which we must else have gain'd, or, by my faith,
I had been later.
HARDBRAND.
Swift as a bullet from the cannon's mouth.
(Collaring him again)
Enter Rayner, Mardonio, Bertram, and Crowd.
MARDONIO (to Hardibrand, pulling him back from the Messenger).
HARDIBRAND.
(The Crowd give a great shout crying out "pardon, pardon," and Hardibrand, turning round at the noise, and seeing Rayner, springs forward, and catches him in his arms.)
Is this true seeing that my eyes are blest with?
O welcome, welcome! this is wonderful!
My boy! my noble boy! my gallant boy!
Thou art a man again, and I—I'm mad:
My head wheels round, but 'tis a blessed madness.
What say'st thou? art thou silent?
Hast no voice?
RAYNER.
And awful from that verge to be recall'd.
God bless ye! O God bless ye! I am spent;
But let me draw my breath a little while,
And I will thank you—I will—Bear with me:
There's sympathy and love in ev'ry heart.
MARDONIO (to Messenger).
(Reading the rest low to himself.)
What! call ye this a pardon which acquits
The prisoner as guiltless of the crime?
May God be praised! how has all this been?
MESSENGER.
In deep remorse, a paper of confession,
Attested by a priest and his own mother,
Caus'd to be drawn, which to the governor
I've brought, I wot, as quickly as I might,
Tho' (pointing to Hardibrand) this good gentleman—
HARDIBRAND (embracing the Messenger).
And as I've said I'll make a rich man of thee.
But I'm bewilder'd still: how hath it been
That he is sav'd, seeing no pardon reach'd him?
MARDONIO.
Had sawn across the main prop of the scaffold,
So that the headsman mounting first, the platform
Fell with a crash; and he, all maim'd and bruis'd, Unfit to do his office, was perforce——
HARDIBRAND.
But he the unknown friend———
Enter Ohio, running exultingly.
OHIO.
Beat me and scourge me as ye list: I did it!
He offer'd me his cloak: he pitied me;
And I have paid him back.
HARDIBRAND.
Art thou a prince? in faith I think thou art.
I'll take thee home, and make a man of thee.
Thou hast a gen'rous mind, altho' debas'd
With vile oppression and unmanly scorn.
RAYNER (taking Ohio and Hardibrand both by the hand).
What my voice cannot. O! and here comes one
Who mocks all power of words.
(Enter Elizabeth running, and rushes into Rayner's arms; the Crowd then eagerly gathers round them, and closes upon them.)
MARDONIO (stepping out from the crowd, and looking upon them.)
In the true artless sympathy of nature;
For he is one o'er whom the storm has roll'd
In awful power, but spar'd the thunderbolt.—
When urg'd by strong temptation to the brink
Of guilt and ruin, stands the virtuous mind
With scarce a step between; all pitying heaven,
Severe in mercy, chast'ning in its love,
Oftimes, in dark and awful visitation,
Doth interpose, and leads the wand'rer back
To the straight path, to be forever after
A firm, undaunted, onward-bearing traveller,
Strong in humility, who swerves no more.
(Exuent.