The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 (of 8)Wordsworth, William
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The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth — Volume 1 (of 8)
Wordsworth, William
English poetry -- 18th century; English poetry -- 19th century
MARMADUKE These drowsy shiverings,
This mortal stupor which is creeping over me,
What do they mean? were this my single body
Opposed to armies, not a nerve would tremble:
Why do I tremble now?--Is not the depth
Of this Man's crimes beyond the reach of thought?
And yet, in plumbing the abyss for judgment,
Something I strike upon which turns my mind
Back on herself, I think, again--my breast
Concentres all the terrors of the Universe:
I look at him and tremble like a child.
OSWALD Is it possible?
MARMADUKE One thing you noticed not:
Just as we left the glen a clap of thunder
Burst on the mountains with hell-rousing force.
This is a time, said he, when guilt may shudder;
But there's a Providence for them who walk
In helplessness, when innocence is with them.
At this audacious blasphemy, I thought
The spirit of vengeance seemed to ride the air.
OSWALD Why are you not the man you were that moment?
[He draws MARMADUKE to the dungeon.]
MARMADUKE You say he was asleep,--look at this arm,
And tell me if 'tis fit for such a work.
Oswald, Oswald!
[Leans upon OSWALD.]
OSWALD This is some sudden seizure!
MARMADUKE A most strange faintness,--will you hunt me out
A draught of water?
OSWALD Nay, to see you thus
Moves me beyond my bearing.--I will try
To gain the torrent's brink.
[Exit OSWALD.]
MARMADUKE (after a pause)
It seems an age
Since that Man left me.--No, I am not lost.
HERBERT (at the mouth of the dungeon)
Give me your hand; where are you, Friends? and tell me
How goes the night.
MARMADUKE 'Tis hard to measure time,
In such a weary night, and such a place.
HERBERT I do not hear the voice of my friend Oswald.
MARMADUKE A minute past, he went to fetch a draught
Of water from the torrent. 'Tis, you'll say,
A cheerless beverage.
HERBERT How good it was in you
To stay behind!--Hearing at first no answer,
I was alarmed.
MARMADUKE No wonder; this is a place
That well may put some fears into _your_ heart.
HERBERT Why so? a roofless rock had been a comfort,
Storm-beaten and bewildered as we were;
And in a night like this, to lend your cloaks
To make a bed for me!--My Girl will weep
When she is told of it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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