i *■ '-t^ '2^-* r? ^_»^ ^ .:;*> /^ .-^ u .^ IJmnr ©, Arttliov Cornell University Library PS 1252.C6503 The oath of office.A tragedy.By Charles 3 1924 021 974 534 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tile Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924021974534 ^l-'Z-^i- J ^ <^ -^ THE OATH OF OFFICE. % ir:i BY CHAELES JAMES CANNON, AVTHOB or " THE POEt'S QUEST," " THE CROWNING HonE," " POEMS, DKAMATIO AND MISCELLANEOUH," ETC. NEW YORK: "WILLIAM TAYLOR & CO., No. 18 ANN STREET. BALTIMORE, MD.: WM. AND nENET TAYLOE, SUN lEON BUILDINQS, 1854. J3, V A ^ 2:}^^° Entered, accordliig to Act of CoDgiess, in the y«iir ISM, By Chahles Jambs Cannon, 1b the Clerk'i Office of the DistrRt Court of tha United StatflB for the Sonthem DUtrict of New York. TO FRANKLIN PIERCE. Called from thy granite hills, and by a voice As Heaven-inspired as his — the Prophet old — The shepherd j'outh who summoned from the fold To reign a monarch of th' Almighty's choice — ■ The voice of a Free People! to the scat A Jackson honoured, and a Washington Made holy, let not then, as oft is done, Ambition witli tliy conscience play the elieat. Thy soul to juggle of its richf-^t gem — Faith to thy country. Registered in Heaven Now stands thy " Oath of Office," and shall stand Forever,, to approve thee or condemn, As thou the power but lent to thee — not given — Shalt use to bless or curse thy native land. CHARACTERS. James Lyncu FrrzsTEPiitjN, Mayor of ('nhi-ivj. Walter Lynch, his son. Blake or tiik Hills, brotlicr^in-hm of Lynch. Artuub, son of Slake. Tiklogh, foster-lrothir of M'ult' i: Gomez, a young Sjiauiard. Priest. Cahir, 1 Mran, j Gaoler. First Officj.e. Second Officer. Gentlemen, S.ulors, Citizens, etc. Dame Matigaret, vifc of Lynch. Agnes, i/te betrothed of Waltn: Ladie*, Citizens' "Wivr-", etc. Scene. — Oalway, in Ireland. Time. — N'car the cloie of the Fif- teenth century. THE OATH OF OFFICE. ACT I. SCENE I. A hall in the hotise of the Mayor. A number of persons present; some seated at tahlcs and others standing in groups, or walking about conversing. Among tlie latter are Agnes and Gomee. TiKioGH co)nesfrom one of the tables. TIRLOGH. Brave doings here ! In kitchen and in hall Is nothing heard but sounds of merriment, Where blend the laugh and song harmoniously With music of the viol and the harp. In every face one sees, as in a mirror, The joy reflected that makes bright his own ; And in the friendly grasp, of hands that ne'er Have met before, is felt the heartiness With which each guest, in all this vast assembly, Doth enter into these festivities. And, sooth to say, Lynch the Munificent 2 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act I. Gives all a noble welcome. There is not A Baron of the Pale so sumptuously Could entertain his friends as doth this merchant, Upon whose tables luxuries are crowded To sate an epicure. And this profusion Is all in honour of the proud alliance This day contracted by young Walter Lynch, This rich man's heir, and my dear foster-brother, And O ! may it be happy as 'tis proud ! .For he deserves it should be. [Walter comes dejectedly dmcn the hall; th^n stops, arid leaning against one of tlie pillars, appears to be regarding Agnbs and Gomez.] How is this 1 He hath not much the seeming of a bridegroom. Pray Heaven he be not ill ! Ah, I remember. This is the last night of the sojourn here Of the young Spaniard, Gomez, and his heart Is now divided between joy and grief — The lover and the friend. Shall I accost him 1 No ; — ^he were better pleased to be alone ; And so I'll leave him. [Retires amoyig the guests, WALTER, (coming farther down.) It was but the fancy Of a distempered brain. I know them both. The stain of falsehood could not rest upon SCENBI.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. 3 The soul of either. Gomez is my friend ; — My brother ; — bound to me by strongest ties ; — Beyond suspicion true. And Agnes — O The angels, that in Heaven's court do wait, Are not more pure than she ! Then to the winds I give my doubts to scatter as they will ! {After a pause And yet I like not they should seem so well To vmderstand each other. Eyes are on them Which may not read their actions as mine do. The smile and blush, that follow every word He breathes into the eaT she bends towards him, The evil heart might sadly misinterpret. And evil tongues — What will not evil tongues 1 — Convert to proofs of crime they have not dreamed of. Well, let them do so. Shall my peace depend On others' fancies, or my own convictions ? And, while I know my friend and love are true. What need I care if false the world should deem them ? ARTHUR, {coming from, the nearest table.) Upon my troth, good coz, thou play'st the host Right hospitably. All thy guests must feel Much flattered, by thy efforts to make pleasant The time they mean to pass beneath this roof, In honour of thy most august betrothal. Why, man, thy length of face, and moody silence Are as ill suited to an hour like this i THE OATH OF OFFICE- [act I. As was the Death's head at Egyptian feasts — Filling with gloom the hearts that should be brimmed — Even like our goblets — with the wine of gladness. Comie, rouse thee. Talk, and laugh, and drink, as I do. Or, if thou wilt not, imitate, at least. The gentle 'haviour of thy bride, sweet Agnes, Who, though she says but little with her lips. Discourses eloquently with her eyes — And how those eyes can speak thou shouldst know well ! — To the swart Spaniard, who, if not thy friend, I trow might very well be thought thy rival. And one who urges no unthriving suit. WALTER. Tush, Arthur, this is folly ! Thou to-night All things behold'st through an uncertain medium. And dost see nothing as in truth it is. The wine cup hath such wondrous power, 'twill oft To friendship give the form of rivalry. Go, join thy fellows ; and, ere thou shalt drain Another goblet to thy mistress' beauty, I will make one among you. ARTHUR. See thou dost; And we will make thee soon forget that earth E'er knew the stolid mar-sport, Gravity-. ITictmyhS to the fahle. SCENEI.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. 6 WALTER. He might be thought my rival ! Though 'twas flung At random, to my heart that shaft was sped, And there it rankles. [Goes to the table^ a^id Jills a gohlet. Friends, ye do not drink. Come, fill. l^They Jill.'] And let me now propose a toast. Our house's honoured guest ; — the noble Gomez ! The noble Gomez ! [T7iey driiik. WALTER. In his name I thank you. ARTHUR. In faith, 'tis well thou dost ; for he nor ears, Nor tongue, nor aught has now for more than one. WALTER, (aside, and leavirig the table.) Another shaft ! But what a fool am I To let the chatter of this brainless jay So chafe me ! Now they seek a place apart. As if they felt the gaze of curious eyes, And sought to shun it. I will mark them closely. But how is this 1 I am not jealous ? No ! I do not fear there can be aught between them That could to nicest honour give offence. 6 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act I. Yet, for a moment's pastime, will I mark them. [He returns to the pillar, against which he leans, while Aqnes and Gomez, separating from the crowd, come down the hall, and stop opposite to him.] Thou goest then to-morrow ? GOMEZ. With the dawn. Even now, her white wings spread to catch the breeze, The bark impatient in the harbour waits Tliat is to bear me to my native Spain, And the dear parents my heart leaps to name. Yet, credit me, sweet lady, sad am I To leave for ever this fair land of thine. Whose hospitable homes have ever been As open to me as my father's halls. AGNES. But sure this going cannot be for ever 1 Thou wilt, I know, leave many a friend behind Who would rejoice to see thee here again. Walter will miss thee sadly. GOMEZ. At the risk Of seeming selfish, I will say I hope so. For I would grieve to think that one with whom I've passed long months — and j'et not long enough SCENE!.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. For the enjoyment wc together shared — Should let mine unage from his memory fall As something all unworthy of his care. And yet 'twere wise to count that so it will be, Smce with him leave I one who well might make The truest heart prove recreant to friendship. Thou soon, I fear, wilt teach him to forget me. AGNES. Nay, that I would not were it in my power, But rather strive to keep within his breast Thy memory alive, by speaking oft Of him he loves, when thou art far away. Yet scarce shall need do that. What Walter once Has loved, he loves unchangeably ; besides, Thou art his other self, and with his life Thy memory must live. GOMKZ. An easy task It is to win us to the faith that we Do hope is true. O may'st thou prove iii this A prophetess ! AGNES. But thou wilt see my father t GOMEZ. I fear me much 'twM be impossible. 8 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act I. The noble Lynch will hold his revels late, In honour of his son's most happy choice, And, being my last night beneath his roof, I cannot leave without a farewell blessing From him who well has filled my father's place. AGNES. Yet, though it should be late, thou canst one moment Snatch from the hour of thy departure, just To bid adieu to one who loves thee well, But who, alas ! is all too ill to leave His couch, even for the sake of a last word To his old friend, thine honoured father. Then, I pray thee, let me say that thou wilt come, And take his farewell message 1 GOMEZ. As thou wUt. It is not easy to deny thee, lady. AGNES. Thanks ! Now I'll home, and cheer his kind old heart With this good news. 'Twill bring him back his youth. GOMEZ. Pray Heaven it bring him that without which youth. Much as 'tis prized, would be no blessing — health. But go not yet. Thy absence carniot fail To dim the light of joy tliat should illume The festive hall. Indeed we cannot piirt thee. SCENE i.l THE OATH OF OFFICE. 9 AGNES. I am my father's nurse : and, though not well Could I absent myself from this gay scene, Prepared to honour one whom Lynch Fitzstephen Deems not unworthy of a name like his, Must not my patient longer leave alone. To count in solitude the hours his daughter Devotes to pleasure. But no farewell yet. I'll see thee at the bedside of my father. SERVANT, (who kos come from the upper end of the hall.) Sir, 'tis my master's wish to speak to you. GOMEZ. I come to him. Lady, I kiss thy hand. [Follows the servant up, and exit. AGNES, {who in crossing the hall encounters Walter.) Where didst thou hide thyself? I have not seen thee For the last hour, I'm sure. WALTER, {ironically.) And missed rae, doubtless. AGNES, {gaily.) Thou thinkest now I'll flatter, and say. Yes. But that I will not. No, I did not miss thee. WALTER, {bitterly.) I did not think thou could'st. My good friend Gomez Took care of that. My plii^o was well supplied. 10 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [aC!T i. AGNES. It was. WALTER. No doubt ; and might have been even longer 1 AGNES. It might. The conversation of thy friend — So full of lofty, yet most grateful, thought, And rich in that quaint lore which renders Spain So dear to every lover of romance — Would from the dull and careless win attention. And I — or thou hast flattered — am not either. He told me of a youth, in bondage held By a Grenadian noble ; — one who hated, With Moslem hate, our pure and holy faith ; — And of a lovely maid — the bride betrothed Of his most cruel master — who beheld, With pity first, but very soon with love, The Christian slave, and tasked her woman's wit Thenceforth, how she the captive could assist In sundering the chains, that galled his heart More than his limbs. WALTER. And she succeeded'? AGNES. Yes. And, with the freedom he had languished for. acESEi.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. She gave him — what a loving, manly heart Would higher prize — her fond and beauteous self! 'Twas liberal of her ! — very liberal ! Thou thinkest so, dost not ? And gladly would'st Have played the part of the fair Moorish maiden. And given life and liberty to him Had won thy love 1 AGNES. Ay, would I. Who would not 1 Nay, I would think me blessed — if other means I had not to evince my heart's devotion — If e'er the glorious privilege were mine, To lay my life down for the friends I love. WALTER. A most heroic sentiment ! and spoken Right loftily ! — but thrown away on one Who would far rather that his friends should live Than die for him. O from my soul I loathe The mawkish cant of those upon whose lips Are ever words of fealty and devotion ! A woman's love should in her life be seen ; — Not spoken in her words, but by her acts, And those not such as vain romancers weave Into loose tales, to which no modest ear Should listffli. He thou call'st my friend — 12 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act i. AGNES. loaU! Is he not so ? I thought you were sworn brothers. WALTER. And who says we are not 1 Yet, to my thought. The friend who entertains a maidi;n's ear — That maid already an affianced wife — With tales of silly passion, which inflame The heart, and render giddy the weak brain, Has little of the care a friend should have For a friend's peace. AGNES. I listen to thee, Walter, But though mine ear takes in thy words, their sense Escapes me quite. Possess me of thy meaning. WALTER. Then, to speak plainly, was it like a friend So long for Gomez to keep thee engaged. With the invention of some idle rhymer, 'Till he had drawn upon you every eye In wonderment, and raised, in coarser minds, Thoughts little flattering or to thee or me. AGNES. What mind so evil as to let a thought Intrude would sully a true maiden's honour. From circumstance like this? SCENE I.] T H E O A T H O F F F I C E . 13 WALTER. Such minds are many. AGNES. I'm sorry for it ; for I would that all Were barred against the entrance of such thoughts, Which cannot fail to leave a trail behind Worse than the serpent's. WALTER. We should then be careflil Not to give life to thoughts that purest minds Could not bid freely welcome. Shall we from The shadow shrink, and yet not fear the substance 1 AGNES. There's something in thy tone, more than thy words, That tells me I have done amiss. But how 1 Thou'lt not refuse to let me know my fault t WALTER. Thy deep attention to the tale of Gomez — If tale he told— AGNES. Walter! If tale he told ? And think'st thou what I said a fabrication, 'Neath which I meanly something sought to hide I would not dare to own ? If, sir, so lightly Thou dost esteem mine honour now, what surety 14 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act i. Have 1, that more respect it shall receive When in thy hands is placed a husband's power 1 Heaven keep thee in thy senses ! and farewell. [Goinff. WALTER, {detaining her.) But Agnes! — AGNES, {breaking from him.) Loose me ! I will hear no more ! [Exit at one side of the hall as Dame Margaret enters at the other.'] WALTER, {looking after her.) Can she be false 1 O ne'er detected guilt Could look so like insulted iimocence. Her tone, where anger was with sorrow mingled, Her eye, whose fire was almost quenched in tears, Her bearing proud, and yet so womanly, Bear testimony all that she is true. DAME MARGARET. Is Agnes gone, and hast thou not gone with her? Fie on thee, sir ! is this thy gallantry ? 'Tis rather soon, methinks, to play the churl, The night of thy betrothal. Haste, and join her. WALTER, (with affected carelessness.) blie does not need my escort : she has servants. DAME MARGARET. She has, and thou the chief So after her. [Retires up the hall. SCENE n.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. IS WALTER. So far, at least, will I as to the air ; And try if that will cool my fevered blood, And still to healthful calm my throbbing brain. [Exit. SCENE II. Another apartment in the same. Enter Lynch and Oohez. LYNCH. I must not keep thee longer from the friends Who wait thee in the hall. And yet to part With my dear Walter scarce could be more painfiil Than is this parting with the son of him Who, from the morning of my life, 'tUl now. When evening's shades are gathering thick around me, Has been even as a brother to my heart. Age makes us wondrous selfish. Every good That we may hold, as we approach the grave Becomes each moment dearer, 'tUl our grasp Is loosened only by the hand of death. And though in justice I should render back Unto my friend the youth entrusted to me, To be companion to my boy, that in Our children might their fathers' friendship live, Thou'st been so long my son, I yield thee up With deep reluctance. Yet it must be so ! And to the evil we cannot prevent 10 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act i. We should, at least, with seemmg grace submit. So now farewell ! and with thee take the blessing Of one whose heart, though chilled by age and cares, For thine and thee hath cherished at its core The love that warmed it in life's budding spring. GOMEZ. * ), my dear lord, I know not how to thank thee For all the kindness found beneath this roof, To which 1 came a stranger, but depart /V son, at least, in love. I go ; and with me Bear that wUl summer to the winter be Of my dear father's age. How •^vill he joy To hear of the success that has a life Of virtue crowned ; — making his early friend The first in honour as the first in wealth ; — And blessed— O far beyond or wealth or honour ! — In every thing that makes a heaven of home ! But I must hasten, to fulfil a promise To Agnes made, that I would see her father Ere my departure, and that hour is near. So, gracious lord, farewell ! LYNCH, (embracing him.) Farewell, dear youth, And may our Holy and Beneficent Mother Make smooth for thee the passage of the deep ! {Exit OoMEz. SCENE ii.J THE OATH 01=' OFFICE. 17 Enter damb Margaret. Alone, my husband ? LYNCH. Not alone, dear wife. The man of active mind is ne'er alone, For with him live the dead of buried ages, And distant friends are ever present to him. But now I'd other company than such As the magician Thought can conjure up. ITie youthful Gomez hath this moment left me. DAME MARGARET. Heaven speed him on his homeward way ! How must Tlis mother long to fold liim to her heart ! LYNOn. And thinkest thou a father's heart may nut, Towards the object of its love, as fondly Even as a mother's, yearn 1 D.VME MARGARET. It may be so ; Yet it is hardly what we would expect From man's rough nature. He may look with pride Upon the son through whom, to after years, His name and honours are to be transmitted. As thou upon our Walter, who, his faults — The faults of youth — the weeds that never spring But from a generous soil — being now redeemed. 1» THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act i. Will add new lustre to thine honoured name. But were he sickly ; of a feeble temper ; Unsightly to behold, would still thy love Him clasp unto thine heart, 'till he had grown To be the dearest portion of thyself? Or would'st not rather cast the creature from thee, In bitterness of soul, for being that Which thou could'st take no pride in? for, believe me, Pride's oft the spring of much that man calls Love. LYNCH. Well, :is thou wilt; — thy sex's pii\ilege; — For 'tis a theme on which I cannot argue. I only know I luve our boy — as I Have ]u\ ed his mother — ^nth my heart and soul. DAME MARGARET. Yet with a difference. Thou lovcst mo For what I was ; — but him for what he shall be. LYNCH. For what ye are ; — the choicest blessings Heaven, Throughout a long and prosperous life, hath ^ven me ; And 'twere to be ungrateful to that Heaven, For what it hath bestowed, to love you not. But (talcing her hand to lead her out) let us to our guests ; and though the hour Is wearing late, we still must urge their stay. [Exewit. BCENEiii.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. 19 SCENE III. A street before the hottae of Agnes's fatlier. Enter Walter. WALTER. How soothing are thine influences, Night, To the perturbed spirit. Thy sweet breath Whispers of peace ; and as thy holy dews Fall on the burning brow, the wOd disorder Which filled the brain with images of horror. Gives place to thoughts of love and C(jnfidence. The blood that late, with hot and furious haste, Rushed through these veins, now temperately moves, As if no maddening draught e'er mingled with it ; And the hard pulse, so painfully that throbbed, Is beating even as a sleeping babe's. Tlie pangs of Jealousy — the vulture that With sharpest tooth was gnawing at my heart — Vex me no more ; and I have but one wish — To see, and be to Agnes reconciled. {Enter Gomez from tli£ house, and passes hurriedly up tht street.] Ha ! what is this 1 I hope the old man's illness Hath not assumed a more alanning form, And this a messenger sent out for aid. I will accost him. By yon Heaven ! 'tis Gomez ! What does he here at such an hour as this ? What errand can he have — but one ? O traitor ! 20 THE OATH OF OFFIUE. [act i. Smooth-browed and serpent-toiigued ! from thy false heart I'll draw the venomous flood that feeds thy life ! IDrawinff his sword, and foUo%tying. Ho, viUaui ! turn, and meet wlmt thou deservest. [Exit after Gomez. GOMEZ, {without.) What means this violence ? WALTER, {without.) jSfy sword shall answer. [^Clashing of swords without. Re-enter Go.mez, mortally wounded, who staggers down the street, and after him AV.vj.teh. GOJIEZ. Whoe'er thou art, thy madness hath destroyed The life of one that ne'er did wilful wrong To living thing ; yet Heaven forgive it thee ! \Falls and dies. WALTER, {after a fuuse.) What have I done ! Destroyed a life, so dear That yesterday mine ov^nii I would have perilled To save it from mischance ! Sent unprepared — Without a moment for one prayer for mercy — A soul into the presence of its Judge ! And here I stand, beneath the calm blue heavens, All crimsoned o'er with blood ! My brain is burning ! SCENE HI.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. 21 My heart is turned to ice ! and aguish shivermgs Do shake my palsied limbs ! What forms are these, That gather round and fright me with their glare ? Why do they point to that poor ghastly corse, And clap their hands, and laugh exultingly 1 O fiends are they, that from the realms of woe Have come to triumph in my misery, Before they drag me with them down th' abyss, To share the doom of howling murderers ! Murderers! Who calls me Murderer? Who Looked on, and saw my sword avenge the wrong My heart had suffered from his treachery 1 No eye beheld the deed, — but that of Him Who knows how deep had been the provocation. Then why should I before my fellow-men Be branded as a murderer, when the sea. Which almost to the spot whereon I stand Rolls its eternal waves, hath depths wherein The secret of my crime may hidden lie Until the day when all shall be revealed ! Then to the sea will I this form commit ; And though Remorse tug ever at my heart. Will dress my face to look like Innocence. [ Takes up the body, and bears it off. 22 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [actii. A G T II. SCENE. A hall in the house of the Mayor. Lynch discovered writing. Enter AHTHrR, yawning. ARTHUR. Why, uncle mine, what ^'illainous hours ye keep In this unrighteous city. Scarce had I Embraced my dearest friend, the couch, when roused By clamours in the street, enow to wake The sleepers of the grave. What mean those noises ? LYNCH, (looking up.) Noises 1 What noises ? I hear nothing, save The ordinary sounds of city life. Which, when thou art as used to them as I, Thou wilt as little heed. Go sleep again. [Resumes his toriiinci ARTHUR. I do not mean the hawkers' dissonance, Or heavy tramp of plodding citizens, But mingled shrieks, and oaths, and lamentations, And words that seemed to speak of murder. LYNCH, (rising and coyning forward.) Murder? No brawl I hope has brought disgrace upon Our city. I must see to tliis. SCENE.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. 23 TiRLOGH, (entering hastily.') My lord ! LYNCH. Well, what's the matter 1 TIRLOGH. O my lord ! my lord ! The noble Gomez has been basely murdered ! LYNCH. Great Heaven ! But no. Thou hast not heard aright. TIRLOGH. O I would give mine ears to know mine ears Had played me false. But they, alas ! too truly In this have done their office. He is murdered ! And the vile wretch who robbed him of his life, The rifled caskets— his poor body — cast Lite the sea, but which the sea, unwilling So foul a deed to hide, returned to earth. And by some sailors,, who were hither coming To hasten his departure from our shores, Upon the beach at early morn was found. LYNCH. O Tirlogh, this is heavy news indeed ! A youth, of fairest promise, is cut off In manhood's early bloom. A heart, wherein All kindly virtues had their dwelling place. Is turned to ashes. And — ah, heaviest woe ! — 24 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act n The love, that filled with light his distant home, Is quenched in blood ; and his poor, aged parents. Must totter on in darkness to the grave No filial hand shall deck. Alas, for them. Even more than this poor victim, do I grieve ! But is there nought that to the murderer points 1 TIRLOGH. Nothing, my lord. LYNCH. And yet he shall be found. [^Voices without. What noise is that? irRLOGH. They bring the body hither. \ Enter Spanish sailors bearing the body of Gomez, foUtmei by Cahib, and citizens of both sexes.'] MEN, {as they enter.') Woe, to our country, woe ! In all the tears That from her have been wrung, no drops of shame 'Till now e'er mingled. Gone, alas ! for ever The name she long hath borne among the nations — • Erin the Hospitable ! Full of trust ^he stranger came unto her shores, but, ah! Instead of welcome, and the hand of friendship, Received and fell beneath the murderer's knife. WOMEN, {following.) Alas, for the poor stranger ! far from home, SCENE.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. 25 And all he loved, to die alone ! — unpitied ! — Without a sister's hand to smooth his pillow ; — A mother's voice to soothe his dying pangs ! Alas ! alas ! 'tis ever hard to die : — But hardest is't to him who dies alone ! LYNCH, (who has been for some time gazing on the body.) Alas, my friends ! this is a piteous sight ! And one on which not even the passing stranger Could look unmoved. How must it then afflict One who, like me, hath known this youth for years ; Hath loved him as he would a second son ; And, after filling long a father's place. Must now lament him with a father's grief! CAHIR. We all do know, my lord, how well you loved him ; And know we shall not call on you in vain For speedy vengeance on his murderer. LTNCH. Doubt not that ye shall call in vain for Justice, For that is all, good friend, we should require, And more it is than we may dare to meet. But justice shall be done. I have an oath Which binds me, on the peril of my soul. To grant impartial justice to all men ;— And I have done so. And, what never yet Have I withheld from any who did seek it, 26 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act II. I will not now deny, when the dear son Of a dear friend calls for it from the dead. CAHIR. Justice or vengeance — call it what you will — 'Tis much the same. All that we ask of you, Is that his murderer shall not go unpunished. LYNCH. That shall he not. The Law's decree is Death To him who wilfully another's life Shall take. And whosoe'er the murderer, Were he the dearest friend I have on earth. Nay, dearer even than that — mine only son, I must and will obey the Law's behest. But first the obsequies of this poor youth Shall celebrated be with all observance ; While through the city, upon every altar, The Holy Mass shall Heaven propitiate For the immortal soul, that hath been thus Untimely sent into God's awful presence. But {to Arthur), where is Walter ] Heavily this news Will fall upon his heart, for as a brother He loved this noble, but Dlfated, youth. Go seek, and break it gently to him, nephew. [JExit Arthvb. But who, O Gomez, shall the tidings bear ( )t' thy disastrous end to thy poor parents ! Whose eager gaze is bent towards our shores, SCENE.] THE OATH 01-- OFFICE. 27 Wliile fancy makes of every wave, that lifts Its snowy crest above the dark green sea, The ship that to their longing arms shall brirg TheHreasure they had given unto my keeping, Nor dream how fearfully their trast has failed. ARTHUR, [re-cntmnff in alarm.) He is not in his room. His bed looks not As through the night it had been occupied. He may have gone with Gomez to his boat. Pray Heaven he hath not been as foully dealt wth ! I.YNCH. Not in his bed ? What horrors crowd my brain ! Fly ! Let the household be alarmed ! WALTER, (entering.) No need. Walter is here. The -wTetched, blood-stained Walter ! [TiKLOGH hvrries to him. LYNCH. What is the meaning of those dreadful words ? With what blood art thou stained ? WALTER. The blood of Gomez. LYNCH, [in a low voice.) Have mercy. Heaven ! — let not the thing I fear Become reality, and crush me utterly ! 28 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act 11 TiRLOGH, (to Walter.) Eestrain thy tongue ! Dost thou not see all eyes Are on thee bent in wonder or in anger 1 WALTER, (to Tirlogh.) I heed them not. My gaze is inward turned, And there I see a sou] defiled with blood ! TIRLOGH, (to Walter.) O, for the love of Heaven ! restrain thy tongue. LYNCH. Come Mther, Walter. Let me understand What thou dost mean. Thou and thy friend did quarreL Ye fought ; — and thou didst slay him. Was it so 1 WALTER. We had no quarrel. LYNCH, (eagerly.) And thou didst not slay him 1 O Walter ! say to me thou didst not slay him. Vr ALTER. Father, I slew him. LYNCH. Pray for me; ye saints, That I my manhood lose not, nor my reason ! Yet 'twas not by design ] WALTER. O would to Heaven SCENE.] THE OATH OF OFFICE. 29 That, as thou wishest, I could say it was not ! But in a fit of momentary madness — TIELOGH. Ay, madness ; — and the fit is on him still. LYNCH, {joyfully.) I knew, 1 knew thou didst not — couldst not mean it ! WALTER. Alas, I cannot leave thee even the comfort — Poor as it is — of that belief. But hear me, Father ; and ye, who in amazement stand. Hear also, that, should love of life hereafter Lead me to palliate my dire offence. Ye may be able to convict of falsehood My coward tongue. I slew him. Not by chanct! , But with deliberate purpose. Ye all know How I did love him. Even as I loved. So did I trust him ; — and he did deceive me. Deceived, and wronged me there where all men feel The wrong most keenly ; — wronged me in mine honour. Beneath the cover of the night, I saw The traitor stealing from the house of her Whose faith to me was plighted. Stung to madness — By proof of my disgrace — I rushed upon. And slew him. ARTHUR. He deserved the fate he met. 80 THE OATH OF OFFICE. [act ii. LTSCH. teach me patience, all-enduring Heaven ! WALTER. Then smote upon my heart the sense of guilt ; And loud within my breast a voice cried out In condemnation of the deed, which even My bitter wrongs refused to justify. And straight I fled, as if upon my steps Followed th' avenger of a brother's blood, And hid myself within a forest deep. But, though I felt secure from all pursuit, 1 could not rest ; and from my hiding-place Came forth, with purpose to demand from justice A murderer's reward. LYNCH. O wretched boy ! He thou didst slay was never more thy friend Than when thou deem'dst him false. The visit made Was not to Agnes — but her suifering father. WALTER. O do not drive me mad ! Do not deprive me Of the dear thought — that my revenge was just! LYNCH. Til}' cruel rage was wholly -without cause. Tli'i visit and its object botli I I,;^4l ?^r^' r-HT*. \- M\ irm rJ^t' "%" u>^- *