[aside. To serve you, but free confidence in you. Albert. Beautiful island, rising out of darkness Like a divine creation, a new day Hath dawned upon thee, a momentous day Hast thou sinned That God has taken away the sacred veil And ye will drink — ay, drink, and find it poison; Strange is it, that my singular destiny, [He examines them through his glass. And in the lap of pleasure take your ease, Then will I leave the island at your bidding! Cap. Fool that you are! Mean you to tarry out Existence in this place! Where is the glory Of bearing to your native port the tidings Of a new land? where is the proud ambition That once was Albert Luberg's, to be great? Have you ne'er thought upon a gentle maiden That sits beside your mother all day long. Shedding hot tears on her embroidery frame; Waiting till she is sick at heart for tidings; Enquiring ship-news from all voyagers; And hoping until hope itself is dead? If fortune, fame, ambition count as nothing; Is love too valueless, save for a dusk Young beauty of the woods, who is a pebble Beside a kingly diamond, if compared With that fair mourning girl? Oh! virtue, virtue, Thou art a mockery; a base, gilded coin, That men buy reputation with! A sylvan grotto, the floor covered with rich Indian mat. Albert asleep, with his head resting on the knees of Edah, a beautiful young native, who fans him with a gorgeous plume of feathers—she sings in a low, sweet voice: Little waves upon the deep When thou wak'st, the sea will pour And the earth in plant and tree, Albert. [opening his eyes.] "Tis a sweet song, whe Edah. Love taught it me-I made it as I sang Albert. My glorious Edah, thou art like a star Edah. Golden stars! I love the stars-the happy stars-dost thou ? Edah. Albert. I hear it calling ever-I must hence! Albert. No, no, my beautiful! it is not death, Edah. Oh! I would leave my mother for thy sake! Let me go with thee! Albert. Sweet love, that cannot be! Far, far we go beyond the setting sun! I cannot take thee with me. Yon dark man That ever in the ship keeps by himself, Is a stern chief,-we dare not disobey him; He would not let thee come on board with me! Edah. Oh woe is me! oh woe, oh woe is me! [She wrings her hands in an agony of despair-Albert embraces her tenderly. Albert. My dearest love! my dark-eyed island beauty! Look on me, Edah, listen to my words- The deck of the ship, all hands on board, anchor weigh ed, and sails set-a crowd of natives on shore; women tearing their hair and uttering loud lamentation-a little boat puts off, rowed by Edah. Cap. Crowd sail! let not yon little boat approach! Albert. This moment slacken sail! take in the canvas! Cap. [aside] Blind fool of headlong passion, have your way; [He folds his arms, and looks sullenly on. The boat comes alongside. Albert throws out a ladder and descends into it. What now, my love, would'st thou? Oh do not leave me! Come back and see the grotto I have deckedThou said'st thou loved'st the red-rose and the lotus, Albert. Edah. Come back and see how I have twined them for thee! Thou said'st thou loved'st the gushing, fragrant me And rosy corallines, I have collected Oh come thou back! I would be slave to thee, And fetch thee treasure from the great sea-caves! I would do aught to win thee back again. Albert. Peace, peace! poor innocent heart, th dost distress me! Edah. Oh thou art angry, I have angered thee I have said that which is unpleasing to thee! Let me go with thee! I will be thy sister; Will watch by thee, when thou art sick or weary: Will gather fruits for thee; will work bright flowe N Into a mantle for thee: I will be More than a loving daughter to thy mother! Albert Thou can'st not go; but, my sweet islan queen, I will return to thee! now fare thee well! Edah. Wilt thou, wilt thou indeed! oh then farewell For a short season. I will watch for thee Cap. What, are you tarrying still! the girl is gone, For ever from the hills, and all night long Keep a bright beacon burning! Oh come soon, [Ile springs again on deck—gives a sign, SCENE VI. Sailors of the plague ship. [With frantic gestures. [The ship moves off, and the sailors of SCENE VII. |Night-third night from parting with the ship-deck of Albert's vessel — watch on deck. 1st Man. And all to have share and share alike in the plunder-why you can't say but that is fair enough; and yet drown me, if I like the job! Mid-seas the deck of the ship-Albert and the Cap't Albert. She is a goodly ship, well-built and large, If she were human, I should call her haggard! [He looks again through his glass. [No answer is returned, the ship slowly takes in sail, and comes alongside. Albert. Oh heavens! they are like dead men! Many weak voices from the ship.] Water! water! Cap. Speak, one of you, whence come? and what's your freight? Man. Our cargo is of gold, and pearl, and diamond, They will go raging mad before to-morrow, Albert. To rid them of their miserable lives? Albert. No, let them die, as die they surely must; We will keep near them, and when all are dead, Possess the abandoned cargo! 2nd Man. Neither do I! and yet if they 're dead, will be neither robbery nor murder, and they must be dead by this time. But somehow, it went against my conscience to leave 'em as we did: I warrant a cask o' water wouldn't have kept 'em alive a day longer. 1st Man. But th' old one said if they had water they would go raging mad, and eat one another. 2nd Man. I say, did you see the big fellow with the red eyes? never saw I such a sight before! 1st Man. Well, the fearsomest thing I saw, and the saddest, was a boy about as big as my Jack, with hands like claws, they were so wasted away, and a poor, yellow, deathly face, that set its patient leadcoloured eyes upon me, and for all the clamour, never said a word, but kept looking and looking, as if it had a meaning of its own, that I should know. Well, I'll tell you a secret: what, said I to myself, should it want but water, so I heaved up a can of water over to him, and I shall never forget his look, to my dying day! My heart fairly sprung a leakfor what did he do with it? he tasted not a drop himself, but poured it into a poor fellow's mouth, that was lying gasping beside him-I guessed it was his father! 2nd Man. Well, I'll tell you what, I wish we had got it all over! It looks dismal to see that death-ship always before us. But this is the third day, and as soon as morning breaks we shall come up with her and see what state she's in. SCENE VIII. Morning-they lay alongside the strange vessel-the crew still on board, with wild looks and making menacing gestures. ALBERT and the CAPTAIN stand together. How horribly ferocious, with clenched hands Сар. Board them at once, Between the wish to have, and the repugnance To shedding human blood! Cap. Let's spread the sail, And leave them to the sea- them and their gold! Albert. No, no, we 'll have the gold! Cap. You are a man! Gold is too good to pave the ocean with.Throw out the grappling-irons! Board the ship, And end their miserable lives at once! [A horrible scene ensues—the strange crew is murdered—the ship plundered and set fire to. SCENE IX. Several hours afterwards — Albert's cabin; he rushes in distractedly, throws his bloody cutlass on the floor, and flings himself upon a couch. A SAILOR enters hastily. Sailor. There is a woman on the burning ship! Albert. Oh save her, save her! by one act of mercy Let us atonement make to outraged heaven! [The sailor goes out. Oh what a bloody wretch I am become, [He fills a goblet several times and drinks, then dashes the goblet to the floor. It tastes like blood! And wine will ever taste thus, so will water! The bread I eat will choke me! 1 am gone raging mad! I am mad! Oh, sir, they were my mother's! If thou have Oh, thou art young!-thou must-thou must have pity! Albert. I have a mother-but she would not know me The savage creatures are my kindred now! Is madness!-I have done a deed of hell, I will not do thee wrong-poor friendless child, SCENE XI. Night-Albert's cabin, a dim lamp is burning-Albert appears asleep-a shriek is heard on deck, and a heavy plunge into the sea — - Albert starts up. Oh, gracious heaven, that is the woman's voice! Where is she?- where am I?-Ah. I have slept A blood-polluted murderer, I have slept! Enter the CAPTAIN. Albert. What shriek was that?-and where is Angela? Albert. Cap. Where plummet will not reach her! Heartless wretch,Dost say she 's dead with such a voice as that? If thou know'st aught of this, by all that's sacred Thy life shall answer for 't! Cap. My hands are clean [He reels out of the cabin. Of this girl's life!— But listen, and I 'll tell you – Your drunken wooing frightened her last night' Have you forgot how, in her desperation, She stood, her wild hair streaming in the wind, And her pale countenance upturned to heaven? Albert. But she is dead! Cap. SCENE X. The deck-Albert holding a young female by the arm – Jewels and gold are scattered about. Well, as she stood at eve Stood she at midnight, motionless, yet muttering A thousand quick-said prayers, with clasped hands, Like some carved image of immortal sorrow! Albert. Cease, thou wilt drive me mad! Cap. The loaded sails Dropped momently their heavy heads of dew Upon the silent deck, meting out time As the clock's ticking;- still she stood, like death, [He goes to an inner chamber. Thou hast brought misery on me! I am dyed Are we never to meet without these squabblings? SCENE XII. Night-tempest-thunder and lightning - the ship drives before the storm-. Albert's cabin - Albert alone: Three days the storm has raged-nor is there yet SCENE XIII. The vessel floating without mast or rudder-famine on Albert. What miserable sound of mortal strife [He advances along the deck with difficulty; the seamen are eagerly stripping the body. Albert. My brethren in affliction, sin not thus, The murdered dead—she has made cause against us; Touch not that flesh, lest God abandon you! Pale ghastly faces, cresting the fierce waters, Keep in the vessel's wake as if in mockery! If Mate. There is no bread!- there is no drop of water! These cannot speak for thirst- -nor shall I long- Alas! There, there they stand! I see them now around me! But 'tis impossible! - their feeble arms Oh, fearful spectres, fasten not your eyes [He rushes to the door, the Captain meets him. Cap. I heard your voice, you have got company? Albert. Out of my way! My blackest curse be on thee: I am a damned sinner through thy means! Cap Peace, peace! your passion overmasters you! Albert. Have I not need to curse thee to thy face? Could not sustain the oars-and without compass There is only one, Then be our blood Upon your head-and may the fiend keep with you [They row off in silence. |