There – I have made Lord Valentine's shield so bright, that if the wild man does but see his face in it, he may haply take fright at his own ugly features. It's monstrous unlucky that though I have been armour-bearer and armour-maker to the young knight from the time of his first campaign, yet something has always happened to prevent my going with him, and now when so handsome an opportunity offers, I'm sadly afraid I shan't be able to find an excuse for staying behind. I've been ill of every thing I could think of, in turn, and have obtained more certificates of bad health, than would have paid for the cure of real sickness. – Let's see – what can I think of next?
So, Mr. Hugo, your poor master is going again, I fear?
Yes, I fear we are both going. But you see how it is with us – a willing horse, you know —
The poor princess will cry her eyes out, she's so sorry —
And so am I.
You sorry! – for what?
Why, to think that – that —
Oh, I know what you are sorry for – you've heard that Valentine has sworn to go alone, and that you will lose the honour of sharing in so hopeful an enterprize.
Has he? how lucky! (aside) Yes, I'm monstrous sorry – I didn't know it sooner. (apart)
I knew you'd feel hurt.
True – to think I that carried him in arms, when a boy, should see him go alone at these years.
Well, but if you were to ask him. —
What, to break his vow? I wou'dn't have such a sin at my door, for the honour of fighting the wildest man in Christendom.
Agatha, present this to the princess, and tell her till Valentine can prove that gentle blood flows in his veins, her roseate cheek shall ne'er have cause to blush for him she has so honoured.
Sir, she sends this parting token, and will pray incessantly for your return.
[Exit.
Then success is certain! Come, see my armour.
(While arming him.) I humbly hope, my lord, that, now, I have no hinderance you'll graciously permit my services. I have kill'd divers wild things in my time, and might be useful.
Well, then, thou shalt go with me.
(Dropping the armour.) Shall I! O dear!
How now?
'Twas but a sudden qualm – That was a real pain i' the back.
[Aside.
I mean to take thee but to the entrance of the forest.
I cou'dn't think of intruding further.
There secure my horse, and wait my return. (Draws his sword.) Now gentle fortune aid thy knight.
And let the Fates for good or ill combine,
The star that leads me on, is, Eglantine.
[Exeunt on opposite sides.
On one side a large Tree which can be climbed, at the back, a Cavern nearly covered with Underwood.
Well, the king hath heard our petition, and here we go joyfully on our way home.
Troth, I am weary; – let us rest awhile; for when the wild man is once killed, this forest will be quite safe, and things will run in the right road again.
For my part I fear nothing but the wild man – Lack-a-day! it would do you good only, an't were to hear him roar —
Mercy on us? What was that?
That was no honest roaring. Such sweet sounds mean no good. I have rested enough now.
[Going.
Don't hurry so, goodman Ambrose, the music is not so bad.
No matter – I wou'dn't dance with old nick for a partner, to the prettiest tune that ever was composed.
[Exeunt.
"Pilgrims. The sun to ocean hies away.
"The curfeu bell is ringing,
"And pilgrims thro' the twilight grey,
"Now cheer the way by singing.
"While each, tho' weary, feels delight,
"In thinking of his inn at night,
"And ev'ry footstep moves in time,
"As plays the distant village chime."
Peasants. Mercy on us!
Pilgrims. Strangers, say —
Peasants. Here he comes,
Pilgrims. Which is our way?
Peasants. Have you seen him?
Pilgrims. Whom?
Peasants. He's coming.
Hark! the wild man —
Pilgrims. Tell us, pray.
Peasants. Here you must not stand humdrumming.
Yes, 'tis he – away! away!
All. Away! away!
[Exeunt hastily.
Characteristic Music, which varies with the Incidents of the following Scene.
A strange kind of howling is heard —Orson presents himself with an animal in his grasp, which he has just slain – a faint roar is heard of the old Bear —Orson expresses satisfaction, intimating he has got food for her. The Bear enters —Orson shews her the food, and in a playful manner, follows her into the cave.
Valentine enters, followed at cautious distance by Hugo, who puts down a basket containing some cordage, fruits, and a flask, and seems very anxious to be dismissed —Valentine, in dumb shew, charges him with a token for Eglantine and the King, and recommending himself to heaven, takes his way into the thicket.
Hugo, being left alone, seems terrified, and as much afraid to go back, as to follow Valentine– looks warily about him, hears a noise, and runs to the cave for shelter – a roar is heard from the cave, Hugo instantly returns running, most whimsically terrified, and pursued by Orson – Hugo throws his cloak at the wild man, and while he is tearing it to pieces, Hugo runs off —Orson throws down the cloak, and doubly enraged by the escape of his intended victim, follows.
Valentine re-enters, cannot find the wild man – sees Hugo's cloak, laments his supposed death, and mounts a tree to look out for his enemy.
Orson re-enters, and expresses disappointment at not having overtaken Hugo– as he approaches the tree where Valentine is, Valentine plucks a branch, and throws it at him —Orson looks up with astonishment, chatters uncouthly to Valentine, throws the branch back to him, and beckons him to come down —Valentine hesitates —Orson enraged, immediately ascends the tree – and while he is climbing up one side, Valentine gets down on the other, and in turn beckons his opponent. —Orson makes but one jump from the tree to the ground – runs to Valentine, who opposes his polished shield —Orson seeing his own figure reflected in it, suddenly starts back —Valentine, with his sword drawn, keeps Orson at bay, and leads him round the stage, still wondering at the figure he sees. —Orson at length struggles for the shield, takes it from Valentine, and throws it away —Valentine has another shield at his back, which he immediately uses, slightly wounds Orson with the point of his sword, at which he, enraged, looks round for a weapon, pulls up a young tree by the roots, and uses it as a club.
A fierce combat ensues —Valentine, by his lightness and activity, escapes many dreadful blows, aimed at him by Orson. – They stand to breathe awhile, when the Bear suddenly totters from the cave —Valentine, at the moment she opens her mouth, presents his sword in the attitude of thrusting it down her throat —Orson, as if instinctively apprised of the danger of his foster-mother, drops his club, and seems to implore mercy for the old and feeble Bear —Valentine retires, the Bear follows —Orson recovers his club, and is about to attack Valentine, when the latter cuts Orson's hand – the club falls, and Valentine is once more attacking the Bear, when Orson supplicates —Valentine suddenly throws a cord round Orson's hands, and bids him follow him —Valentine holding the other end of the cord. —Orson looks at the Bear, and then at Valentine, who throws him fruit – he gives it to the Bear —Valentine gives him wine from a flask, he tastes it, likes it, and gives some to the Bear, who seems half strangled with it, and totters towards the cave.
Valentine again bids Orson follow him —Orson suddenly snaps the cord, and follows the Bear – the Bear unable to reach the cave, drops with a faint roar, and dies, as if from old age.
Orson shakes her, puts the food and bottle by her, throws himself on the ground, and seems to weep.
Valentine ventures to caress him —Orson turns short on him, snatches at his sword by the blade, and again cuts his fingers – resumes his club, but throws it down again on seeing the dead Bear. —Valentine caresses Orson again (still keeping on his guard), Orson seeing Valentine's attention to himself and the Bear, seems pleased and overcome by it – presents Valentine with one end of the cord, and holding the other, suffers himself to be led off, looking back from time to time, at the dead Bear, and making an uncouth and mournful kind of lamentation.