ACT IV
The same. Night. The moon, shining in broadly at the window, discovers Ravensbane alone, prostrate before the mirror. Raised on one arm to a half-sitting posture, he gazes fixedly at the vaguely seen image of the scarecrow prostrate in the glass.
RAVENSBANE
All have left me—but not thou. Rachel has left me; her eyes have turned away from me; she is gone. And with her, the great light itself from heaven has drawn her glorious skirts, contemptuous, from me—and they are gone together. Dickon, he too has left me—but not thou. All that I loved, all that loved me, have left me. A thousand ages—a thousand ages ago, they went away; and thou and I have gazed upon each other’s desertedness. Speak! and be pitiful! If thou art I, inscrutable image, if thou dost feel these pangs thine own, show then self-mercy; speak! What art thou? What am I? Why are we here? How comes it that we feel and guess and suffer? Nay, though thou answer not these doubts, yet mock them, mock them aloud, even as there, monstrous, thou counterfeitest mine actions. Speak, abject enigma!—Ah! with what vacant horror it looks out and yearns toward me. Peace to thee! Thou poor delirious mute, prisoned in glass and moonlight, peace! Thou canst not escape thy gaol, nor I break in to thee. Poor shadow, thou—
[Recoiling wildly.]
Stand back, inanity! Thrust not thy mawkish face in pity toward me. Ape and idiot! Scarecrow!—to console me! Haha!—A flail and broomstick! a cob, a gourd and pumpkin, to fuse and sublimate themselves into a mage-philosopher, who puffeth metaphysics from a pipe and discourseth sweet philanthropy to itself—itself, God! Dost Thou hear? Itself! For even such am I—I whom Thou madest to love Rachel. Why, God—haha! dost Thou dwell in this thing? Is it Thou that peerest forth at me—from me? Why, hark then; Thou shalt listen, and answer—if Thou canst. Hark then, Spirit of life! Between the rise and setting of a sun, I have walked in this world of Thine. I have gazed upon it, I have peered within it, I have grown enamoured, enamoured of it. I have been thrilled with wonder, I have been calmed with knowledge, I have been exalted with sympathy. I have trembled with joy and passion. Power, beauty, love have ravished me. Infinity itself, like a dream, has blazed before me with the certitude of prophecy; and I have cried, “This world, the heavens, time itself, are mine to conquer,” and I have thrust forth mine arm to wear Thy shield forever—and lo! for my shield Thou reachest me a mirror—and whisperest: “Know thyself! Thou art—a scarecrow: a tinkling clod, a rigmarole of dust, a lump of ordure, contemptible, superfluous, inane!” Haha! Hahaha! And with such scarecrows Thou dost people a planet! O ludicrous! Monstrous! Ludicrous! At least, I thank Thee, God! at least, this breathing bathos can laugh at itself. At least this hotch-potch nobleman of stubble is enough of an epicure to turn his own gorge. Thou hast vouchsafed to me, Spirit,—hahaha!—to know myself. Mine, mine is the consummation of man—even self-contempt!
[Pointing in the glass with an agony of derision.] Scarecrow! Scarecrow! Scarecrow!
THE IMAGE IN THE GLASS [More and more faintly.] Scarecrow! Scarecrow! Scarecrow!
[Ravensbane throws himself prone upon the floor, beneath the window, sobbing. There is a pause of silence, and the moon shines brighter.—Slowly then Ravensbane, getting to his knees, looks out into the night.]
RAVENSBANE What face are you, high up through the twinkling leaves? Why do you smile upon me with such white beneficence? Or why do you place your viewless hand upon my brow, and say, “Be comforted”? Do you not, like all the rest, turn, aghast, your eyes away from me—me, abject enormity, grovelling at your feet? Gracious being, do you not fear—despise me? To you alone am I not hateful—unredeemed? O white peace of the world, beneath your gaze the clouds glow silver, and the herded cattle, slumbering far afield, crouch—beautiful. The slough shines lustrous as a bridal veil. Beautiful face, you are Rachel’s, and you have changed the world. Nothing is mean, but you have made it miraculous; nothing is loathsome, nothing ludicrous, but you have converted it to loveliness, that even this shadow of a mockery myself, cast by your light, gives me the dear assurance I am a man. Yea, more, that I too, steeped in your universal light, am beautiful. For you are Rachel, and you love me. You are Rachel in the sky, and the might of your serene loveliness has transformed me. Rachel, mistress, mother, beautiful spirit, out of my suffering you have brought forth my soul. I am saved!
THE IMAGE IN THE GLASS A very pretty sophistry.
[The moonlight grows dimmer, as at the passing of a cloud.]
RAVENSBANE Ah! what voice has snatched you from me?
THE IMAGE A most poetified pumpkin!
RAVENSBANE Thing! dost thou speak at last? My soul abhors thee.
RAVENSBANE Thou liest.
THE IMAGE
Our Daddy Dickon and our mother Rickby begot and conceived us at sunrise, in a Jack-o’-lantern.
RAVENSBANE Thou liest, torturing illusion. Thou art but a phantom in a glass.
THE IMAGE Why, very true. So art thou. We are a pretty phantom in a glass.
RAVENSBANE It is a lie. I am no longer thou. I feel it; I am a man.
THE IMAGE And prithee, what’s a man? Man’s but a mirror, Wherein the imps and angels play charades, Make faces, mope, and pull each other’s hair— Till crack! the sly urchin Death shivers the glass, And the bare coffin boards show underneath.
RAVENSBANE Yea! if it be so, thou coggery! if both of us be indeed but illusions, why, now let us end together. But if it be not so, then let me for evermore be free of thee. Now is the test—the glass! [Springing to the fireplace, he seizes an iron cross-piece from the andirons.] I’ll play your urchin Death and shatter it. Let see what shall survive! [He rushes to strike the glass with the iron. Dickon steps out of the mirror, closing the curtain.]
DICKON I wouldn’t, really!
RAVENSBANE Dickon! dear Dickon! is it you?
DICKON Yes, Jacky! it’s dear Dickon, and I really wouldn’t.
RAVENSBANE Wouldn’t what, Dickon?
DICKON Sweep the cobwebs off the sky with thine aspiring broomstick. When a man questions fate, ’tis bad digestion. When a scarecrow does it, ’tis bad taste.
RAVENSBANE At last, you will tell me the truth, Dickon! Am I then—that thing?
DICKON You mustn’t be so sceptical. Of course you’re that thing.
RAVENSBANE Ah me despicable! Rachel, why didst thou ever look upon me?
DICKON I fear, cobby, thou hast never studied woman’s heart and hero-worship. Take thyself now. I remarked to Goody Bess, thy mother, this morning, as I was chucking her thy pate from the hay-loft, that thou wouldst make a Mark Antony or an Alexander before night.
RAVENSBANE Thou, then, didst create me!
DICKON [Bowing.] Appreciate the honour. Your lordship was designed for a corn-field; but I discerned nobler potentialities: the courts of Europe and Justice Merton’s salon. In brief, your lordship’s origins were pastoral, like King David’s.
RAVENSBANE Cease! cease! in pity’s name. You do not know the agony of being ridiculous.
DICKON Nay, Jacky, all mortals are ridiculous. Like you, they were rummaged out of the muck; and like you, they shall return to the dunghill. I advise ’em, like you, to enjoy the interim, and smoke.
RAVENSBANE This pipe, this ludicrous pipe that I forever set to my lips and puff! Why must I, Dickon? Why?
DICKON To avoid extinction—merely. You see, ’tis just as your fellow in there [Pointing to the glass.] explained. You yourself are the subtlest of mirrors, polished out of pumpkin and pipe-smoke. Into this mirror the fair Mistress Rachel has projected her lovely image, and thus provided you with what men call a soul.
RAVENSBANE Ah! then, I have a soul—the truth of me? Mistress Rachel has indeed made me a man?
DICKON Don’t flatter thyself, cobby. Break thy pipe, and whiff—soul, Mistress Rachel, man, truth, and this pretty world itself, go up in the last smoke.
RAVENSBANE No, no! not Mistress Rachel—for she is beautiful; and the images of beauty are immutable. She told me so.
DICKON What a Platonic young lady! Nevertheless, believe me, Mistress Rachel exists for your lordship merely in your lordship’s pipe-bowl.
RAVENSBANE Wretched, niggling caricature that I am! All is lost to me—all!
DICKON “Paradise Lost” again! Always blaming it on me. There’s that gaunt fellow in England has lately wrote a parody on me when I was in the apple business.
RAVENSBANE [Falling on his knees and bowing his head.] O God! I am so contemptible!
[Enter, at door back, Goody Rickby; her blacksmith garb is hidden under a dingy black mantle with peaked hood.]
DICKON Good verse, too, for a parody! [Ruminating, raises one arm rhetorically above Ravensbane.]
“Farewell, happy fields Where joy forever dwells! Hail, horrors; hail, Infernal world! and thou, profoundest Hell, Receive thy new possessor.”
GOODY RICKBY [Seizing his arm.] Dickon!
DICKON Hullo! You, Bess!
GOODY RICKBY There’s not a minute to lose. Justice Merton and the neighbours have ended their conference at Minister Dodge’s, and are returning here.
DICKON What! coming back in the dark? They ran away in the daylight as if the ghosts were after ’em.
GOODY RICKBY [At the window.] I see their lanterns down the road.
DICKON Well, let ’em come. We’re ready.
GOODY RICKBY But thou toldst me they had discovered—
DICKON A scarecrow in a mirror. Well? The glass is bewitched; that’s all.
GOODY RICKBY All? Witchcraft is hanging—that’s all! Come, how shall the mirror help us?
DICKON ’Tis very simple. The glass is bewitched. Mistress Rachel—mind you—shall admit it. She bought it of you.
GOODY RICKBY Yea, of me; ’twill be me they’ll hang.
DICKON Good! then the glass is bewitched. The glass bewitches the room; for witchcraft is catching and spreads like the small-pox. Ergo, the distorted image of Lord Ravensbane; ergo, the magical accompaniments of the ballad; ergo, the excited fancies of all the persons in the room. Ergo, the glass must needs be destroyed, and the room thoroughly disinfected by the Holy Scriptures. Ergo, Master Dickonson himself reads the Bible aloud, the guests apologize and go home, the Justice squirms again in his merry dead past, and his fair niece is wed to the pumpkin.
RAVENSBANE Hideous! Hideous!
GOODY RICKBY Your grateful servant, Devil! But the mirror was bought of me—of me, the witch. Wilt thou be my hangman, Dickon?
DICKON Wilt thou give me a kiss, Goody? When did ever thy Dickon desert thee?
GOODY RICKBY But how, boy, wilt thou—
DICKON Trust me, and thy son. When the Justice’s niece is thy daughter-in-law, all will be safe. For the Justice will cherish his niece’s family.
GOODY RICKBY But when he knows—
DICKON But he shall not know. How can he? When the glass is denounced as fraudulent, how will he, or any person, ever know that we made this fellow out of rubbish? Who, forsooth, but a poet—or a devil—would believe it? You mustn’t credit men with our imaginations, my dear.
RAVENSBANE Mockery! Always mockery!
GOODY RICKBY Then thou wilt pull me through this safe?
DICKON As I adore thee—and my own reputation.
GOODY RICKBY [Hurrying away.] Till we meet, then, boy.
DICKON Stay, marchioness—his lordship!
GOODY RICKBY [Turning.] His lordship’s pardon! How fares “the bottom of thy heart,” my son?
DICKON My lord—your lady mother.
RAVENSBANE Begone, woman.
GOODY RICKBY [Courtesying, laughs shrilly.] Your servant—my son! [About to depart.]
RAVENSBANE Ye lie! Both of you! Ye lie—I was born of Rachel.
DICKON Tut, tut, Jacky; you mustn’t mix up mothers and prospective wives at your age. It’s fatal.
GOODY RICKBY [Excitedly.] They’re coming! [Exit.]
DICKON [Calling after her.] Fear not; if thou shouldst be followed, I will overtake thee.
RAVENSBANE She is coming; Rachel is coming, and I may not look upon her!
DICKON Eh? Why not?
DICKON And born of her—Fie! fie!
RAVENSBANE O God! I know not; I mock myself; I know not what to think. But this I know, I love Rachel. I love her, I love her.
DICKON And shalt have her.
RAVENSBANE Have her, Dickon?
DICKON For lover and wife.
RAVENSBANE For wife?
DICKON For wife and all. Thou hast but to obey.
RAVENSBANE Ah! who will do this for me?
DICKON I!
RAVENSBANE Dickon! Wilt make me a man—a man and worthy of her?
DICKON Fiddlededee! I make over no masterpieces. Thy mistress shall be Cinderella, and drive to her palace with her gilded pumpkin.
RAVENSBANE It is the end.
DICKON What! You’ll not?
RAVENSBANE Never.
DICKON Harkee, manikin. Hast thou learned to suffer?
RAVENSBANE [Wringing his hands.] O God!
DICKON I taught thee. Shall I teach thee further?
RAVENSBANE Thou canst not.
DICKON Cannot—ha! What if I should teach Rachel too?
RAVENSBANE Rachel!—Ah! now I know thee.
DICKON [Bowing.] Flattered.
RAVENSBANE Devil! Thou wouldst not torment Rachel?
RAVENSBANE Speak! What must I do?
DICKON Not speak. Be silent, my lord, and acquiesce to all I say.
RAVENSBANE I will be silent.
DICKON And acquiesce?
RAVENSBANE I will be silent.
[Enter Minister Dodge, accompanied by Sir Charles Reddington, Captain Bugby, the Rev. Masters Rand and Todd, and followed by Justice Merton, Richard, Mistress Merton, and Rachel. Richard and Rachel stand somewhat apart, Rachel drawing close to Richard and hiding her face. All wear their outer wraps, and two or three hold lanterns, which, save the moon, throw the only light upon the scene. All enter solemn and silent.]
MINISTER DODGE Lord, be Thou present with us, in this unholy spot.
SEVERAL MEN’S VOICES Amen.
DICKON Friends! Have you seized her? Is she made prisoner?
DICKON Sir, the witch! Surely you did not let her escape?
ALL The witch!
DICKON A dame in a peaked hood. She has but now fled the house. She called herself—Goody Rickby.
ALL Goody Rickby!
MISTRESS MERTON She here!
DICKON Yea, mistress, and hath confessed all the damnable art, by which all of us have lately been so terrorized, and his lordship, my poor master, so maligned and victimized.
RICHARD Victimized!
JUSTICE MERTON What confessed she?
MINISTER DODGE What said she?
DICKON This: It appeareth that, for some time past, she hath cherished revengeful thoughts against our honoured host, Justice Merton.
JUSTICE MERTON Sir! What cause—what cause—
DICKON Inasmuch as your worship hath ever so righteously condemned her damnable faults, and threatened them punishment.
MINISTER DODGE Yea—well?
DICKON Thus, in revenge, she bewitched yonder mirror, and this very morning unlawfully inveigled this sweet young lady into purchasing it.
SIR CHARLES Mistress Rachel!
MINISTER DODGE [To Rachel.] Didst thou purchase that glass?
RACHEL [In a low voice.] Yes.
MINISTER DODGE From Goody Rickby?
RACHEL Yes.
RICHARD Sir—the blame was mine.
RACHEL [Clinging to him.] O Richard!
DICKON Pardon, my friends. The fault rests upon no one here. The witch alone is to blame. Her black art inveigled this innocent maid into purchasing the glass; her black art bewitched this room and all that it contained—even to these innocent virginals, on which I played.
MINISTER DODGE Verily, this would seem to account—but the image; the damnable image in the glass?
DICKON A familiar devil of hers—a sly imp, it seems, who wears to mortal eyes the shape of a scarecrow. ’Twas he, by means of whom she bedevilled this glass, by making it his habitat. When, therefore, she learned that honour and happiness were yours, Justice Merton, in the prospect of Lord Ravensbane as your nephew-in-law, she commanded this devil to reveal himself in the glass as my lord’s own image, that thus she might wreck your family felicity.
MINISTER DODGE Infamous!
DICKON Indeed, sir, it was this very devil whom but now she stole here to consult withal, when she encountered me, attendant here upon my poor prostrate lord, and—held by the wrath in my eye—confessed it all.
SIR CHARLES Thunder and brimstone! Where is this accursed hag?
DICKON Alas—gone, gone! If you had but stopped her.
MINISTER DODGE I know her den—the blacksmith shop.
SIR CHARLES [Starting.] Which way?
MINISTER DODGE To the left.
SIR CHARLES Go on, there.
MINISTER DODGE My honoured friend, we shall return and officially destroy this fatal glass. But first, we must secure the witch. Heaven shield, with her guilt, the innocent!
THE MEN [As they hurry out.] Amen.
SIR CHARLES [Outside.] Go on!
[Exeunt all but Richard, Rachel, Justice Merton, Mistress Merton, Dickon, and Ravensbane.]
DICKON [To Justice Merton, who has importuned him, aside.] And reveal thy youthful escapades to Rachel?
JUSTICE MERTON God help me! no.
DICKON So then, dear friends, this strange incident is happily elucidated. The pain and contumely have fallen most heavily upon my dear lord and master, but you are witnesses, even now, of his silent and Christian forgiveness of your suspicions. Bygones, therefore, be bygones. The future brightens—with orange-blossoms! Hymen and Felicity stand with us here ready to unite two amorous and bashful lovers. His lordship is reticent; yet to you alone, of all beautiful ladies, Mistress Rachel—
RAVENSBANE [In a mighty voice.] Silence!
DICKON My lord would—
RAVENSBANE Silence! Dare not to speak to her!
DICKON [Biting his lip.] My babe is weaned.
RACHEL [Still at Richard’s side.] Oh, my lord, if I have made you suffer—
RICHARD [Appealingly.] Rachel!
RAVENSBANE [Approaching her, raises one arm to screen his face.] Gracious lady! let fall your eyes; look not upon me. If I have dared remain in your presence, if I dare now speak once more to you, ’tis because I would have you know—O forgive me!—that I love you.
RICHARD Sir! This lady has renewed her promise to be my wife.
RAVENSBANE Your wife, or not, I love her.
RICHARD Zounds!
RAVENSBANE Forbear, and hear me! For one wonderful day I have gazed upon this, your world. The sun has kindled me and the moon has blessed me. A million forms—of trees, of stones, of stars, of men, of common things—have swum like motes before my eyes; but one alone was wholly beautiful. That form was Rachel: to her alone I was not ludicrous; to her I also was beautiful. Therefore, I love her. You talk to me of mothers, mistresses, lovers, and wives and sisters, and you say men love these. What is love? The sun’s enkindling and the moon’s quiescence; the night and day of the world—the all of life, the all which must include both you and me and God, of whom you dream. Well then, I love you, Rachel. What shall prevent me? Mistress, mother, wife—thou art all to me!
RICHARD My lord, I can only reply for Mistress Rachel, that you speak like one who does not understand this world.
RAVENSBANE O God! Sir, and do you? If so, tell me—tell me before it be too late—why, in this world, such a thing as I can love and talk of love. Why, in this world, a true man and woman, like you and your betrothed, can look upon this counterfeit and be deceived.
RACHEL AND RICHARD Counterfeit?
RAVENSBANE Me—on me—the ignominy of the earth, the laughing-stock of the angels!
RACHEL Why, my lord. Are you not—
JUSTICE MERTON [To Ravensbane.] Forbear! Not to her—
DICKON My lord forgets.
RACHEL Are you not Lord Ravensbane?
RAVENSBANE Marquis of Oxford, Baron of Wittenberg, Elector of Worms, and Count of Cordova? No, I am not Lord Ravensbane. I am Lord Scarecrow! [He bursts into laughter.]
RACHEL [Shrinking back.] Ah me!
RAVENSBANE A nobleman of husks, bewitched from a pumpkin.
RACHEL The image in the glass was true?
RAVENSBANE Yes, true. It is the glass of truth—thank God! Thank God for you, dear.
JUSTICE MERTON Richard! Go for the minister; this proof of witchcraft needs be known. [Richard does not move.]
DICKON My lord, this grotesque absurdity must end.
RAVENSBANE True, Dickon! This grotesque absurdity must end. The laugher and the laughing-stock, man and the worm, possess at least one dignity in common: both must die.
DICKON [Speaking low.] Remember! if you dare—Rachel shall suffer for it.
RAVENSBANE You lie. She is above your power.
DICKON Still, thou darest not—
RAVENSBANE Fool, I dare. [Turning to Rachel.] Mistress, this pipe is I. This intermittent smoke holds, in its nebula, Venus, Mars, the world. If I should break it—Chaos and the dark! And this of me that now stands up will sink jumbled upon the floor—a scarecrow. See! I break it.
[He breaks the pipe in his hands, and flings the pieces at Dickon’s feet in defiance; then turns, agonized, to Rachel.] Oh, Rachel, could I have been a man—!
DICKON [Picking up the pieces of pipe, turns to Rachel.] Mademoiselle, I felicitate you; you have outwitted the devil. [Kissing his fingers to her, he disappears.]
MISTRESS MERTON [Seizing the Justice’s arm in fright.] Satan!
JUSTICE MERTON [Whispers.] Gone!
RACHEL Richard! Richard! support him.
RICHARD [Sustaining Ravensbane, who sways.] He is fainting. A chair!
RACHEL [Placing a chair, helps Richard to support Ravensbane toward it.] How pale; but yet no change.
RICHARD His heart, perhaps.
RACHEL Oh, Dick, if it should be some strange mistake! Look! he is noble still. My lord! my lord! the glass—
[She draws the curtain of the mirror, just opposite which Ravensbane has sunk into the chair. At her cry, he starts up faintly and gazes at his reflection, which is seen to be a normal image of himself.]
RAVENSBANE Who is it?
RACHEL Yourself, my lord—’tis the glass of truth.
RAVENSBANE [His face lighting with an exalted joy, starts to his feet, erect, before the glass.] A man! [He falls back into the arms of the two lovers.] Rachel! [He dies.]
RACHEL Richard, I am afraid. Was it a chimera, or a hero?
Finis
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AND OTHER POEMS
The new volume contains a considerable amount of hitherto unpublished work, besides some poems which have been published only in magazines and are practically unknown to American readers. The book bears out the verdict of the Post:—
“It has seemed to us from the first that Noyes has been one of the most hope-inspiring figures in our latter-day poetry. He, almost alone of the younger men, seems to have the true singing voice, the gift of uttering in authentic lyric cry some fresh, unspoiled emotion.”
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
PUBLISHERS, 64—66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
Transcriber's Notes:
The cover image was created by the transcriber, and is in the public domain.
Uncertain or antiquated spellings or ancient words were not corrected.
Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered.
Each act in the original had a full page identifying the act as well as a heading at the beginning of the act. The full page act numbers have been removed from this edition as being redundant.