A Blot in the Scutcheon | Page 9

sight of that,?I see him, plain as I see you, my lord,?Open the lady's casement, enter there...
TRESHAM. --And stay?
GERARD. An hour, two hours.
TRESHAM. And this you saw Once?--twice?--quick!
GERARD. Twenty times.
TRESHAM. And what brings you?Under the yew-trees?
GERARD. The first night I left?My range so far, to track the stranger stag?That broke the pale, I saw the man.
TRESHAM. Yet sent?No cross-bow shaft through the marauder?
GERARD. But?He came, my lord, the first time he was seen,?In a great moonlight, light as any day,?FROM Lady Mildred's chamber.
TRESHAM [after a pause]. You have no cause?--Who could have cause to do my sister wrong?
GERARD. Oh, my lord, only once--let me this once?Speak what is on my mind! Since first I noted?All this, I've groaned as if a fiery net?Plucked me this way and that--fire if I turned?To her, fire if I turned to you, and fire?If down I flung myself and strove to die.?The lady could not have been seven years old?When I was trusted to conduct her safe?Through the deer-herd to stroke the snow-white fawn?I brought to eat bread from her tiny hand?Within a month. She ever had a smile?To greet me with--she... if it could undo?What's done, to lop each limb from off this trunk...?All that is foolish talk, not fit for you--?I mean, I could not speak and bring her hurt?For Heaven's compelling. But when I was fixed?To hold my peace, each morsel of your food?Eaten beneath your roof, my birth-place too,?Choked me. I wish I had grown mad in doubts?What it behoved me do. This morn it seemed?Either I must confess to you or die:?Now it is done, I seem the vilest worm?That crawls, to have betrayed my lady.
TRESHAM. No--?No, Gerard!
GERARD. Let me go!
TRESHAM. A man, you say:?What man? Young? Not a vulgar hind? What dress?
GERARD. A slouched hat and a large dark foreign cloak?Wraps his whole form; even his face is hid;?But I should judge him young: no hind, be sure!
TRESHAM. Why?
GERARD. He is ever armed: his sword projects?Beneath the cloak.
TRESHAM. Gerard,--I will not say?No word, no breath of this!
GERARD. Thank, thanks, my lord!
[Goes.]
TRESHAM [paces the room. After a pause].?Oh, thoughts absurd!--as with some monstrous fact?Which, when ill thoughts beset us, seems to give?Merciful God that made the sun and stars,?The waters and the green delights of earth,?The lie! I apprehend the monstrous fact--?Yet know the maker of all worlds is good,?And yield my reason up, inadequate?To reconcile what yet I do behold--?Blasting my sense! There's cheerful day outside:?This is my library, and this the chair?My father used to sit in carelessly?After his soldier-fashion, while I stood?Between his knees to question him: and here?Gerard our grey retainer,--as he says,?Fed with our food, from sire to son, an age,--?Has told a story--I am to believe!?That Mildred... oh, no, no! both tales are true,?Her pure cheek's story and the forester's!?Would she, or could she, err--much less, confound?All guilts of treachery, of craft, of... Heaven?Keep me within its hand!--I will sit here?Until thought settle and I see my course.?Avert, oh God, only this woe from me!
[As he sinks his head between his arms on the table,?GUENDOLEN'S voice is heard at the door.]
Lord Tresham!
[She knocks.]
Is Lord Tresham there?
[TRESHAM, hastily turning, pulls down the first book?above him and opens it.]
TRESHAM. Come in!
[She enters.]?Ha, Guendolen!--good morning.
GUENDOLEN. Nothing more?
TRESHAM. What should I say more?
GUENDOLEN. Pleasant question! more??This more. Did I besiege poor Mildred's brain?Last night till close on morning with "the Earl,"?"The Earl"--whose worth did I asseverate?Till I am very fain to hope that... Thorold,?What is all this? You are not well!
TRESHAM. Who, I??You laugh at me.
GUENDOLEN. Has what I'm fain to hope,?Arrived then? Does that huge tome show some blot?In the Earl's 'scutcheon come no longer back?Than Arthur's time?
TRESHAM. When left you Mildred's chamber?
GUENDOLEN. Oh, late enough, I told you! The main thing?To ask is, how I left her chamber,--sure,?Content yourself, she'll grant this paragon?Of Earls no such ungracious...
TRESHAM. Send her here!
GUENDOLEN. Thorold?
TRESHAM. I mean--acquaint her, Guendolen,?--But mildly!
GUENDOLEN. Mildly?
TRESHAM. Ah, you guessed aright!?I am not well: there is no hiding it.?But tell her I would see her at her leisure--?That is, at once! here in the library!?The passage in that old Italian book?We hunted for so long is found, say, found--?And if I let it slip again... you see,?That she must come--and instantly!
GUENDOLEN. I'll die?Piecemeal, record that, if there have not gloomed?Some blot i' the 'scutcheon!
TRESHAM. Go! or, Guendolen,?Be you at call,--With Austin, if you choose,--?In the adjoining gallery! There go!
[GUENDOLEN goes.]?Another lesson to me! You might bid?A child disguise his heart's sore, and conduct?Some sly investigation point by point?With a smooth brow, as well as bid me catch?The inquisitorial cleverness some praise.?If you had told me yesterday, "There's one?You needs must circumvent and practise with,?Entrap by policies, if you would worm?The truth out: and that one is--Mildred!" There,?There--reasoning is thrown away on it!?Prove she's unchaste... why,