# De Chatillon/De Chatillon, Act Three

ACT III.
Scene I.—A platform before the Citadel. Knights entering.
Her. (to one of the Knights.) You would plead for him?
Knight. Nay, remember all His past renown!
Her. I had a friend in youth— This Aymer's father had him shamed for less Than his son's fault—far less! We must accuse him;—he must have his shield Reversed—his name degraded.
Knight. He might yet—
All the Knights. Must his shame cleave to us? We cast him forth— We will not bear it.
Rainier enters.
Rai. Knights! ye speak of him— My brother—was't not so? All silent! Nay, Give your thoughts breath! What said ye?
Her. That his name Must be degraded.
Rai. Silence! ye disturb The dead. Thou hear'st, my father! [Going up indignantly to the Knights. Which of ye Shall first accuse him? He, whose bold step won The breach at Ascalon ere Aymer's step, Let him speak first! He that plunged deeper through the stormy fight, Thence to redeem the banner of the Cross, On Cairo's plain, let him speak first! Or he Whose sword burst swifter o'er the Saracen, I' the rescue of our king, by Jordan's waves— I say, let him speak first!
Her. Is he not an apostate?
Rai. No, no, no! If he were that, had my life's blood that taint, This hand should pour it out! He is not that.
Her. Not yet.
Rai. Not yet, nor ever! Let me die In a lost battle first!
Her. Hath he let go Name—kindred—honour—for an infidel, And will he grasp his faith?
Rai. (after a gloomy pause.) That which bears poison—should it not be crush’d? What though the weed look lovely? [Suddenly addressing Du Mornay. You have seen My native halls, Du Mornay, far away In Languedoc?
Du Mor. I was your father's friend— I knew them well.
Rai. (thoughtfully) The weight of gloom that hangs— The very banners seem to droop with it— O'er some of those old rooms! Were we there now, With a dull wind heaving the pale tapestries, Why, I could tell you—— [Coming closer to Du Mornay. There's a dark-red spot Grain'd in the floor of one—you know the tale?
Du Mor. I may have heard it by the winter fires, —Now 'tis of things gone by.
Rai. (turning from him displeased.) Such legends give Some minds a deeper tone. (To Herman.) If you had heard That tale i' the shadowy tower——
Her. Nay, tell it now!
Rai. They say the place is haunted—moaning sounds Come thence at midnight—sounds of woman's voice.
Her. And you believe——
Rai. I but believe the deed Done there of old. I had an ancestor— Bertrand, the lion-chief—whose son went forth (A younger son—I am not of his line) To the wars of Palestine. He fought there well— Ay, all his race were brave; but he return'd, And with a Paynim bride.
Her. The recreant!—say, How bore your ancestor?
Rai. Well may you think It chafed him—but he bore it—for the love Of that fair son, the child of his old age. He pined in heart, yet gave the infidel A place in his own halls.
Her. But did this last?
Rai. How should it last? Again the trumpet blew, And men were summon'd from their homes to guard The city of the Cross. But he seem'd cold— That youth! He shunn'd his father's eye, and took No armour from the walls.
Her. Had he then fallen? Was his faith wavering?
Rai. So the father fear'd.
Her. If I had been that father——
Rai Ay, you come Of an honour'd lineage. What would you have done?
Her. Nay, what did he?
Rai. What did the lion-chief? [Turning to Du Mornay. Why, thou hast seen the very spot of blood On the dark floor! He slew the Paynim bride. Was it not well? (He looks at them attentively, and as he goes out exclaims—) My brother must not fall!
Scene II.—A deserted Turkish burying-ground in the city—tombs and stones overthrown—the whole shaded by dark cypress-trees.
Mor. (leaning over a monumental pillar, which has been lately raised.) He is at rest;—and I!—is there no power In grief to win forgiveness from the dead! When shall I rest? Hark! a step—Aymer's step! The thrilling sound! [She shrinks back as reproaching herself. To feel that joy even here! Brother! oh, pardon me!
Rai. (entering, and slowly looking round.) A gloomy scene! A place for——Is she not an infidel? Who shall dare call it murder? [He advances to her slowly, and looks at her. She is fair— The deeper cause! Maid, have you thought of death Midst these old tombs?
Mor. (shrinking from him fearfully.) This is my brother's grave.
Rai. Thy brother's! That a warrior's grave had closed O'er mine—the free and noble knight he was! Ay, that the desert-sands had shrouded him Before he look'd on thee!
Mor. If you are his— If Aymer's brother—though your brow be dark, I may not fear you!
Rai. No? why, thou shouldst fear The very dust o' the mouldering sepulchre, If it had lived, and borne his name on earth! Hear'st thou?—that dust hath stirr'd, and found a voice, And said that thou must die!
Mor. (clinging to the pillar as he approaches.) Be with me, heaven! You will not murder me?
Rai. (turning away.) A goodly word To join with a warrior's name!—a sound to make Men's flesh creep. What!—for Paynim blood Did he stand faltering thus—my ancestor— In that old tower? [He again approaches her—she falls on her knees.
Mor. So young, and thus to die! Mercy—have mercy! In your own far land If there be love that weeps and watches for you, And follows you with prayer—even by that love Spare me—for it is woman's! If light steps Have bounded there to meet you, clinging arms Hung on your neck, fond tears o'erflow'd your cheek, Think upon those that loved you thus, for thus Doth woman love! and spare me!—think on them; They, too, may yet need mercy! Aymer, Aymer! Wilt thou not hear and aid me?
Rai. (starting) There's a name To bring back strength! Shall I not strike to save His honour and his life? Were his life all——
Mor. To save his life and honour!—will my death——
[She rises and stands before him, covering her
face hurriedly.
Do it with one stroke! I may not live for him!
Rai. (with surprise.) A woman meet death thus!
Mor. (uncovering her eyes.) Yet one thing more— I have sisters and a father. Christian knight! Oh! by your mother's memory, let them know I died with a name unstain'd.
Rai. (softened and surprised.) And such high thoughts from her!—an infidel! And she named my mother!—Once in early youth From the wild waves I snatch'd a woman's life; My mother bless'd me for it (slowly dropping his dagger)—even with tears She bless'd me. Stay, are there no other means? (Suddenly recollecting himself.) Follow me, maiden! Fear not now.
Mor. But he— But Aymer—
Rai. (sternly.) Wouldst thou perish? Name him not!— Look not as if thou wouldst! Think'st thou dark thoughts Are blown away like dew-drops? or I, like him, A leaf to shake and turn i' the changing wind? Follow me, and beware!
[She bends over the tomb for a moment, and
follows him.
Aymer enters, and slowly comes forward from the background.
Aym. For the last time—yes! it must be the last! Earth and heaven say—the last! The very dead Rise up to part us! But one look—and then She must go hence for ever! Will she weep? It had been little to have died for her— I have borne shame. She shall know all! Moraima! Said they not She would be found here at her brother's grave? Where should she go? Moraima! There's the print Of her step—what gleams beside it? (Seeing the dagger, he takes it up.) Ha! men work Dark deeds with things like this! [Looking wildly and anxiously around. I see no——blood! [Looking at the dagger. Stain'd!—it may be from battle; 'tis not—wet.
[Looks round, intently listening; then again examines the spot. Ha!—what is this? another step in the grass!— Hers and another's step! [He rushes into the cypress-grove
Scene III.—A hall in the citadel, hung with arms and banners.
Rainier, Herman—Knights in the background, laying aside their armour.
Her. (coming forward and speaking hurriedly.) Is it done? Have you done it?
Rai. (with disgust.) What! you thirst For blood so deeply?
Her. (indignantly.) Have you struck, and saved The honour of your house?
Rai. (thoughtfully to himself.) The light i' the soul Is such a wavering thing! Have I done well! (To Herman.) Ask me not! Never shall they meet again. Is 't not enough?
Aymer enters hurriedly with the dagger, and goes up with it to several of the knights, who begin to gather round the front.
Aym. Whose is this dagger?
Rai. (coming forward and taking it.) Mine.
Aym. Yours! yours!—and know you where—
Rai. (about to sheath it, but stopping) Oh! you do well So to remind me! Yes! it must have lain In the Moslem burial-ground—and that vile dust— Hence with it! 'tis defiled. [Throws it from him.
Aym. If such a deed—— Brother! where is she?
Rai. Who?—what knight hath lost A Ladye-love?
Aym. Could he speak thus, and wear That scornful calm, if——No! he is not calm. What have you done?
Rai. (aside.) Yes! she shall die to him!
Aym. (grasping his arm.) What have you done? —speak!
Rai. You should know the tale Of our dark ancestor, the Lion-Chief, And his son's bride.
Aym. Man! man! you murder'd her! [Sinking back. It grows so dark around me! She is dead! (Wildly.) I'll not believe it! No! she never look'd Like what could die![Goes up to his brother. If you have done that deed——
Rai. (sternly) If I have done it, I have flung off shame From my brave father's house!
Aym. (in a low voice to himself.) So young, and dead!—because I loved her—dead!
(To Rainier.)
You think to hide it with the dust!—ha! ha! The dust to cover her! We'll mock you still: If I call her back, she'll come! Where is she?—speak! Now, by my father's tomb! but I am calm.
Rai. Never more hope to see her!
Aym. Never more! [Sitting down on the ground. I loved her, so she perish'd!—All the earth Hath not another voice to reach my soul, Now hers is silent! Never, never more! If she had but said farewell!—(Bewildered.) It grows so dark! This is some fearful dream. When the morn comes I shall wake. ——My life's bright hours are done!
Rai. I must be firm.
(Takes a banner from the wall, and brings it to Aymer.)
Have you forgotten this? We thought it lost, But it rose proudly waving o'er the fight In a warrior's hand again! Yours, Aymer! yours! Brother I redeem your fame!
Aym. (putting it from him) The worthless thing! Fame! She is dead!—give a king's robe to one Stretch'd on the rack! Hence with your pageantries Down to the dust!
Her. The banner of the Cross! Shame on the recreant! Cast him from us!
Rai. Boy!
Degenerate boy! Here, with the trophies won By the sainted chiefs of old in Paynim war Above you and around; the very air, When it but shakes their armour on the walls, Murmuring of glorious deeds; to sit and weep Here for an Infidel! My father's son, Shame! shame! deep shame!
Knights. Aymer de Chatillon! Go from us, leave us!
Aym. (starting up.) Leave you! what! ye thought That I would stay to breathe the air you breathe!— And fight by you! Murderers! I burst all ties! [Throws his sword on the ground before them. There's not a thing of the desert half so free!
(To Rainier.)
Of a human heart, and steep your soul in fame To still its restless yearnings! Die alone! Midst all your pomps and trophies—die alone! [Going out, he suddenly returns. Did she not call on me to succour her? Kneel to you—plead for life? The Voice of Blood Follow you to your grave! [Exit.
Rai. (with emotion.) Alas! my brother! The time bath been, when in the face of Death I have bid him leave me, and he would not! (Turning to the Knights.) Knights! The Soldan marches for Jerusalem— We'll meet him on the way.