SCENE II.
A rugged glen in the Highlands of Scota. The glen forms portion of a pass, lying between two high hills, respectively called Cairnghlu and Dhugla, which dominates this pass, known by the name of “The Pass Ghlugla.” A rapid torrent threads its way through the valley below, passage through which is only possible by the pass above. In a large cave in this pass, attended by a few faithful followers, Vergli, Isola, and Vulnar, together with Scrutus and Verita, have concealed themselves, their adherents guarding both entrances to the pass. News has been brought that two large forces of militia have been sent to apprehend them, one advancing from either side.
Vergli (solus, standing at the Cave’s entrance): “’Tis a strange life! We cross its threshold first, With little understanding in our brains. Then suddenly, into that empty Cave Steps an immortal soul, which we call Thought, Turning the empty cave into a Mind. From that mind, Thought is ever issuing, In ripples, like a calm, pellucid sea, Or in tumultuous waves of reasoning, Diffusing all around its magic spell. Some brains receive but little of this thought, While others are o’er-charged with its great force, And magnetise the weaker brains of men, Who yield obedience to the stronger pow’r. Is it this pow’r which gives me followers, Willing to risk their fortunes for my sake? Or are my principles the motive force Which causes them to fight for Vergli’s cause? A bit of both, I fancy. Still, I think It is the thought pow’r that attracts them most, A glance from me, accompanied by a thought Silently wished within my active brain, Will often gain for me that which I seek, Without recourse to viva voce speech. Ah! well; If Thought can concentrate itself In force sufficient to attract success, I’ll send wave after wave abroad, in quest Of kindred and reciprocating thought, Which shall respond to my far-reaching call, Seemingly soundless and invisible. Is my call soundless? Yet ’twill penetrate And ring my message in the brains of men. Therefore it must have something kin to sound, Something in Nature like a zephyr sprite, Whose wings float round us, yet we hear them not, Whose lips caress us, though we see them not, Spirits we feel, but cannot hear or see, Life living, yet in form invisible.”
He pauses, then continues: “Oh! come to me, Success, ye whom I woo, Not that success for which Men strive so much. Not empty adulation and renown. I care as little for the world’s false praise As I care for its paltry condemnation. The true Success I ask to come to me, Is that the Truth, whose flag I hold aloft, And Justice and kind Love shall triumph o’er The reign of Falsehood, Cruelty, and Hate. For this I send forth thought waves far and wide, May their returning tide bring back to me My bride, Success, whom I court from afar. Yes, she will come. I feel it. She will come, Although across an angry, tossing sea.” [Looking up at the summit of Dhugla he apostrophises it. “Summit of Dhugla, Peak of misty clouds, Around whose brow the golden eagles soar, Upon whose breast the sentient form of Life, Called animal Creation, finds support; Like unto me thou soarest heavenwards, With glance fixed on the guide Excelsior, Whose hand points ever upwards, bidding us Pierce Space unending, and Immortal Truth. Summit of Dhugla, as thou wooest Heav’n, So woo I Truth, which my fair bride, Success, Shall bring me as her peerless wedding gift.”
[Enter Vulnar and Fortunatus.
Vulnar. “Vergli, the enemy are closing in, Our scouts apprise me of their near approach. To try and hold this pass against such odds Would be a folly; tactical mistake, And blunder irretrievable indeed. We must disperse, and that without delay; The hillmen love you. Whisper of your name Assures the wand’rer hospitality. Let us, while it is possible, disperse, The winter soon will be upon us now, These passes quite impassable. Hark! Sir, A distant bugle call! Its winding note From out Kilsonan’s valley, steals aloft. We can, of course, stay here and fight it out, Leaving our bodies for the Corbies’ sport; Yet killing is not noble Vergli’s aim, But Life around which Freedom twines her arms, Rather his object. Thus I counsel flight, Not craven flight, but politic retreat, And a reunion midst securer scenes. Let us disperse and make for Avenamore, There, through the winter, though I am outlawed, I’ll guarantee you full security. The Men of Avenamore will stand by me. Take Scrutus and Arflec, both are experts In Scota’s hills and Bernia’s rugged paths, And I will steer, with all my craftiest skill, A safe course thither both for Verita And Fortunatus. They may trust in me, And for the rest, our followers can disperse.”
Vergli. “So be it, Vulnar. Pass the word around, Brother-in-arms, so faithful, trusty, true. Fair-well! until we meet again, brave heart. Noble Vulnar, Nature’s true nobleman. Take Vergli’s thanks. ’Tis all he has to give, Take them, they are the echoes of his heart, Where Gratitude is not a foreigner. Now go. Pass the word quickly round. Farewell!”
[He wrings Vulnar’s hand, who returns a silent clasp, and goes out.
Vergli (to Fortunatus): “And you, too, I must part from, Isola. You, who have made my wanderings so fair, You, who have braved imprisonment and death To save Vergli and hold aloft his cause. Hard is the utterance of the word farewell, When those to whom we say it are beloved, As you, Oh! Lady Isola, are loved By Vergli with respectful, reverent love. He knows your love is with Escanior, And not for him, but tender friendship giv’n, As you have given yours to me, is sweet, And plays a soft light on Life’s rugged path. Farewell, Isola; soon to meet again, Amidst the crags of far-famed Avenamore. Farewell! may all the blessings of our God Fall on your shoulders, dearest Isola.”
Fortunatus. “Farewell, Vergli. I thank you for your love, Man’s love is rarely generous and pure, Capable of Unselfishness, and true; ’Tis not my fault I cannot make return Of love so tender and so chivalrous. But mine is with Escanior, bound to his. Wedded with him for all eternity. Yes, we will meet again at Avenamore, Vulnar, and I, and Verita will come. Have hope, have confidence, though skies are dark, Behind the clouds shines the resplendent sun, Our cause shall triumph yet. In Sunburst’s glow We’ll see it someday clasping Victory.”
Enter Verita: “Hear you the bugle of the men of war? Vergli, Scrutus awaits you, and Arflec. Lady Isola, Vulnar bids you haste, Ere long escape will be impossible. He waits you by the Pass’s eastern side, Scrutus and Arflec will be by the western; Hasten to join them, Vergli. Hark! ’tis near, King Hector’s men of war are very nigh.”
[Exit Vergli, Fortunatus and Verita.