ACT IV
The same. Night. The moon, shining in broadly at the
window, discovers Ravensbane alone,
prostrate before the mirror. Raised on one arm to a
half-sitting posture, he gazes fixedly at the vaguely
seen image of the scarecrow prostrate in the glass.
RAVENSBANE
All have left me—but not thou. Rachel has left me; her eyes
have turned away from me; she is gone. And with her, the great
light itself from heaven has drawn her glorious skirts,
contemptuous, from me—and they are gone together. Dickon, he
too has left me—but not thou. All that I loved, all that
loved me, have left me. A thousand ages—a thousand ages ago,
they went away; and thou and I have gazed upon each other’s
desertedness. Speak! and be pitiful! If thou art I,
inscrutable image, if thou dost feel these pangs thine own,
show then self-mercy; speak! What art thou? What am I? Why are
we here? How comes it that we feel and guess and suffer? Nay,
though thou answer not these doubts, yet mock them, mock them
aloud, even as there, monstrous, thou counterfeitest mine
actions. Speak, abject enigma!—Ah! with what vacant horror it
looks out and yearns toward me. Peace to thee! Thou poor
delirious mute, prisoned in glass and moonlight, peace! Thou
canst not escape thy gaol, nor I break in to thee. Poor
shadow, thou—
[Recoiling wildly.]
Stand back, inanity! Thrust not thy mawkish face in pity
toward me. Ape and idiot! Scarecrow!—to console me! Haha!—A
flail and broomstick! a cob, a gourd and pumpkin, to fuse and
sublimate themselves into a mage-philosopher, who puffeth
metaphysics from a pipe and discourseth sweet philanthropy to
itself—itself, God! Dost Thou hear? Itself! For even such am
I—I whom Thou madest to love Rachel. Why, God—haha! dost
Thou dwell in this thing? Is it Thou that peerest forth at
me—from me? Why, hark then; Thou shalt listen, and
answer—if Thou canst. Hark then, Spirit of life! Between the
rise and setting of a sun, I have walked in this world of
Thine. I have gazed upon it, I have peered within it, I have
grown enamoured, enamoured of it. I have been thrilled with
wonder, I have been calmed with knowledge, I have been exalted
with sympathy. I have trembled with joy and passion. Power,
beauty, love have ravished me. Infinity itself, like a dream,
has blazed before me with the certitude of prophecy; and I
have cried, “This world, the heavens, time itself, are mine to
conquer,” and I have thrust forth mine arm to wear Thy shield
forever—and lo! for my shield Thou reachest me a mirror—and
whisperest: “Know thyself! Thou art—a scarecrow: a tinkling
clod, a rigmarole of dust, a lump of ordure, contemptible,
superfluous, inane!” Haha! Hahaha! And with such scarecrows
Thou dost people a planet! O ludicrous! Monstrous! Ludicrous!
At least, I thank Thee, God! at least, this breathing bathos
can laugh at itself. At least this hotch-potch nobleman of
stubble is enough of an epicure to turn his own gorge. Thou
hast vouchsafed to me, Spirit,—hahaha!—to know myself. Mine,
mine is the consummation of man—even self-contempt!
[Pointing in the glass with an agony of derision.]
Scarecrow! Scarecrow! Scarecrow!
THE IMAGE IN THE GLASS
[More and more faintly.]
Scarecrow! Scarecrow! Scarecrow!
[Ravensbane throws himself prone upon the floor, beneath
the window, sobbing. There is a pause of silence, and
the moon shines brighter.—Slowly then Ravensbane,
getting to his knees, looks out into the night.]
RAVENSBANE
What face are you, high up through the twinkling leaves? Why
do you smile upon me with such white beneficence? Or why do
you place your viewless hand upon my brow, and say, “Be
comforted”? Do you not, like all the rest, turn, aghast, your
eyes away from me—me, abject enormity, grovelling at your
feet? Gracious being, do you not fear—despise me? To you
alone am I not hateful—unredeemed? O white peace of the world,
beneath your gaze the clouds glow silver, and the herded
cattle, slumbering far afield, crouch—beautiful. The slough
shines lustrous as a bridal veil. Beautiful face, you are
Rachel’s, and you have changed the world. Nothing is mean, but
you have made it miraculous; nothing is loathsome, nothing
ludicrous, but you have converted it to loveliness, that even
this shadow of a mockery myself, cast by your light, gives me
the dear assurance I am a man. Yea, more, that I too, steeped
in your universal light, am beautiful. For you are Rachel, and
you love me. You are Rachel in the sky, and the might of your
serene loveliness has transformed me. Rachel, mistress,
mother, beautiful spirit, out of my suffering you have brought
forth my soul. I am saved!
THE IMAGE IN THE GLASS
A very pretty sophistry.
[The moonlight grows dimmer, as at the passing of a cloud.]
RAVENSBANE
Ah! what voice has snatched you from me?
THE IMAGE
A most poetified pumpkin!
RAVENSBANE
Thing! dost thou speak at last? My soul abhors thee.
RAVENSBANE
Thou liest.
THE IMAGE
Our Daddy Dickon and our mother Rickby begot and conceived
us at sunrise, in a Jack-o’-lantern.
RAVENSBANE
Thou liest, torturing illusion. Thou art but a phantom in a glass.
THE IMAGE
Why, very true. So art thou. We are a pretty phantom
in a glass.
RAVENSBANE
It is a lie. I am no longer thou. I feel it; I am a man.
THE IMAGE
And prithee, what’s a man? Man’s but a mirror,
Wherein the imps and angels play charades,
Make faces, mope, and pull each other’s hair—
Till crack! the sly urchin Death shivers the glass,
And the bare coffin boards show underneath.
RAVENSBANE
Yea! if it be so, thou coggery! if both of us be indeed but
illusions, why, now let us end together. But if it be not so,
then let me for evermore be free of thee. Now is the
test—the glass!
[Springing to the fireplace, he seizes an iron cross-piece
from the andirons.]
I’ll play your urchin Death and shatter it. Let see what
shall survive!
[He rushes to strike the glass with the iron. Dickon
steps out of the mirror, closing the curtain.]
DICKON
I wouldn’t, really!
RAVENSBANE
Dickon! dear Dickon! is it you?
DICKON
Yes, Jacky! it’s dear Dickon, and I really wouldn’t.
RAVENSBANE
Wouldn’t what, Dickon?
DICKON
Sweep the cobwebs off the sky with thine aspiring
broomstick. When a man questions fate, ’tis bad digestion.
When a scarecrow does it, ’tis bad taste.
RAVENSBANE
At last, you will tell me the truth, Dickon! Am I
then—that thing?
DICKON
You mustn’t be so sceptical. Of course you’re that thing.
DICKON
I fear, cobby, thou hast never studied woman’s heart and
hero-worship. Take thyself now. I remarked to Goody Bess, thy
mother, this morning, as I was chucking her thy pate from the
hay-loft, that thou wouldst make a Mark Antony or an Alexander
before night.
RAVENSBANE
Thou, then, didst create me!
DICKON
[Bowing.]
Appreciate the honour. Your lordship was designed for a
corn-field; but I discerned nobler potentialities: the courts
of Europe and Justice Merton’s salon. In brief, your
lordship’s origins were pastoral, like King David’s.
RAVENSBANE
Cease! cease! in pity’s name. You do not know the agony of
being ridiculous.
DICKON
Nay, Jacky, all mortals are ridiculous. Like you, they were
rummaged out of the muck; and like you, they shall return to
the dunghill. I advise ’em, like you, to enjoy the interim,
and smoke.
RAVENSBANE
This pipe, this ludicrous pipe that I forever set to my lips
and puff! Why must I, Dickon? Why?
DICKON
To avoid extinction—merely. You see, ’tis just as your
fellow in there
[Pointing to the glass.]
explained. You yourself are the subtlest of mirrors, polished
out of pumpkin and pipe-smoke. Into this mirror the fair
Mistress Rachel has projected her lovely image, and thus
provided you with what men call a soul.
RAVENSBANE
Ah! then, I have a soul—the truth of me? Mistress Rachel
has indeed made me a man?
DICKON
Don’t flatter thyself, cobby. Break thy pipe, and
whiff—soul, Mistress Rachel, man, truth, and this pretty
world itself, go up in the last smoke.
RAVENSBANE
No, no! not Mistress Rachel—for she is beautiful; and the
images of beauty are immutable. She told me so.
DICKON
What a Platonic young lady! Nevertheless, believe me,
Mistress Rachel exists for your lordship merely in your
lordship’s pipe-bowl.
DICKON
“Paradise Lost” again! Always blaming it on me. There’s that
gaunt fellow in England has lately wrote a parody on me when I
was in the apple business.
RAVENSBANE
[Falling on his knees and bowing his head.]
O God! I am so contemptible!
[Enter, at door back, Goody Rickby; her blacksmith
garb is hidden under a dingy black mantle with
peaked hood.]
DICKON
Good verse, too, for a parody!
[Ruminating, raises one arm rhetorically above Ravensbane.]
“Farewell, happy fields
Where joy forever dwells! Hail, horrors; hail,
Infernal world! and thou, profoundest Hell,
Receive thy new possessor.”
GOODY RICKBY
[Seizing his arm.]
Dickon!
DICKON
Hullo! You, Bess!
GOODY RICKBY
There’s not a minute to lose. Justice Merton and the
neighbours have ended their conference at Minister Dodge’s,
and are returning here.
DICKON
What! coming back in the dark? They ran away in the daylight
as if the ghosts were after ’em.
GOODY RICKBY
[At the window.]
I see their lanterns down the road.
DICKON
Well, let ’em come. We’re ready.
GOODY RICKBY
But thou toldst me they had discovered—
DICKON
A scarecrow in a mirror. Well? The glass is bewitched;
that’s all.
GOODY RICKBY
All? Witchcraft is hanging—that’s all! Come, how shall the
mirror help us?
DICKON
’Tis very simple. The glass is bewitched. Mistress
Rachel—mind you—shall admit it. She bought it of you.
GOODY RICKBY
Yea, of me; ’twill be me they’ll hang.
DICKON
Good! then the glass is bewitched. The glass bewitches the
room; for witchcraft is catching and spreads like the small-pox.
Ergo, the distorted image of Lord Ravensbane; ergo, the magical
accompaniments of the ballad; ergo, the excited fancies of all the
persons in the room. Ergo, the glass must needs be destroyed, and
the room thoroughly disinfected by the Holy Scriptures.
Ergo, Master Dickonson himself reads the Bible aloud, the guests
apologize and go home, the Justice squirms again in his merry dead
past, and his fair niece is wed to the pumpkin.
RAVENSBANE
Hideous! Hideous!
GOODY RICKBY
Your grateful servant, Devil! But the mirror was bought of
me—of me, the witch. Wilt thou be my hangman, Dickon?
DICKON
Wilt thou give me a kiss, Goody? When did ever thy Dickon
desert thee?
GOODY RICKBY
But how, boy, wilt thou—
DICKON
Trust me, and thy son. When the Justice’s niece is thy
daughter-in-law, all will be safe. For the Justice will
cherish his niece’s family.
DICKON
But he shall not know. How can he? When the glass is
denounced as fraudulent, how will he, or any person, ever know
that we made this fellow out of rubbish? Who, forsooth, but a
poet—or a devil—would believe it? You mustn’t credit
men with our imaginations, my dear.
RAVENSBANE
Mockery! Always mockery!
GOODY RICKBY
Then thou wilt pull me through this safe?
DICKON
As I adore thee—and my own reputation.
GOODY RICKBY
[Hurrying away.]
Till we meet, then, boy.
DICKON
Stay, marchioness—his lordship!
GOODY RICKBY
[Turning.]
His lordship’s pardon! How fares “the bottom of thy heart,”
my son?
RAVENSBANE
Begone, woman.
GOODY RICKBY
[Courtesying, laughs shrilly.]
Your servant—my son!
[About to depart.]
RAVENSBANE
Ye lie! Both of you! Ye lie—I was born of Rachel.
DICKON
Tut, tut, Jacky; you mustn’t mix up mothers and prospective
wives at your age. It’s fatal.
GOODY RICKBY
[Excitedly.]
They’re coming!
[Exit.]
DICKON
[Calling after her.]
Fear not; if thou shouldst be followed, I will overtake
thee.
RAVENSBANE
She is coming; Rachel is coming, and I may not look upon
her!
DICKON
Eh? Why not?
DICKON
And born of her—Fie! fie!
RAVENSBANE
O God! I know not; I mock myself; I know not what to think.
But this I know, I love Rachel. I love her, I love her.
DICKON
And shalt have her.
RAVENSBANE
Have her, Dickon?
DICKON
For lover and wife.
RAVENSBANE
For wife?
DICKON
For wife and all. Thou hast but to obey.
RAVENSBANE
Ah! who will do this for me?
DICKON
I!
RAVENSBANE
Dickon! Wilt make me a man—a man and worthy of her?
DICKON
Fiddlededee! I make over no masterpieces. Thy mistress shall
be Cinderella, and drive to her palace with her gilded pumpkin.
RAVENSBANE
It is the end.
DICKON
What! You’ll not?
RAVENSBANE
Never.
DICKON
Harkee, manikin. Hast thou learned to suffer?
RAVENSBANE
[Wringing his hands.]
O God!
DICKON
I taught thee. Shall I teach thee further?
RAVENSBANE
Thou canst not.
DICKON
Cannot—ha! What if I should teach Rachel too?
RAVENSBANE
Rachel!—Ah! now I know thee.
DICKON
[Bowing.]
Flattered.
RAVENSBANE
Devil! Thou wouldst not torment Rachel?
RAVENSBANE
Speak! What must I do?
DICKON
Not speak. Be silent, my lord, and acquiesce to all I say.
RAVENSBANE
I will be silent.
DICKON
And acquiesce?
RAVENSBANE
I will be silent.
[Enter Minister Dodge, accompanied by Sir Charles
Reddington, Captain Bugby, the Rev. Masters Rand
and Todd, and followed by Justice Merton, Richard,
Mistress Merton, and Rachel. Richard and Rachel
stand somewhat apart, Rachel drawing close to Richard
and hiding her face. All wear their outer wraps, and two
or three hold lanterns, which, save the moon, throw the
only light upon the scene. All enter solemn and silent.]
MINISTER DODGE
Lord, be Thou present with us, in this unholy spot.
SEVERAL MEN’S VOICES
Amen.
DICKON
Friends! Have you seized her? Is she made prisoner?
DICKON
Sir, the witch! Surely you did not let her escape?
ALL
The witch!
DICKON
A dame in a peaked hood. She has but now fled the house. She
called herself—Goody Rickby.
ALL
Goody Rickby!
MISTRESS MERTON
She here!
DICKON
Yea, mistress, and hath confessed all the damnable art, by
which all of us have lately been so terrorized, and his
lordship, my poor master, so maligned and victimized.
RICHARD
Victimized!
JUSTICE MERTON
What confessed she?
MINISTER DODGE
What said she?
DICKON
This: It appeareth that, for some time past, she hath
cherished revengeful thoughts against our honoured host,
Justice Merton.
JUSTICE MERTON
Sir! What cause—what cause—
DICKON
Inasmuch as your worship hath ever so righteously condemned
her damnable faults, and threatened them punishment.
MINISTER DODGE
Yea—well?
DICKON
Thus, in revenge, she bewitched yonder mirror, and this very
morning unlawfully inveigled this sweet young lady into
purchasing it.
SIR CHARLES
Mistress Rachel!
MINISTER DODGE
[To Rachel.]
Didst thou purchase that glass?
RACHEL
[In a low voice.]
Yes.
MINISTER DODGE
From Goody Rickby?
RACHEL
Yes.
RACHEL
[Clinging to him.]
O Richard!
DICKON
Pardon, my friends. The fault rests upon no one here. The
witch alone is to blame. Her black art inveigled this innocent
maid into purchasing the glass; her black art bewitched this
room and all that it contained—even to these innocent
virginals, on which I played.
MINISTER DODGE
Verily, this would seem to account—but the image; the
damnable image in the glass?
DICKON
A familiar devil of hers—a sly imp, it seems, who wears to
mortal eyes the shape of a scarecrow. ’Twas he, by means of
whom she bedevilled this glass, by making it his habitat.
When, therefore, she learned that honour and happiness were
yours, Justice Merton, in the prospect of Lord Ravensbane as
your nephew-in-law, she commanded this devil to reveal himself
in the glass as my lord’s own image, that thus she might wreck
your family felicity.
MINISTER DODGE
Infamous!
DICKON
Indeed, sir, it was this very devil whom but now she stole
here to consult withal, when she encountered me, attendant
here upon my poor prostrate lord, and—held by the wrath in my
eye—confessed it all.
SIR CHARLES
Thunder and brimstone! Where is this accursed hag?
DICKON
Alas—gone, gone! If you had but stopped her.
MINISTER DODGE
I know her den—the blacksmith shop.
SIR CHARLES
[Starting.]
Which way?
MINISTER DODGE
To the left.
SIR CHARLES
Go on, there.
MINISTER DODGE
My honoured friend, we shall return and officially destroy
this fatal glass. But first, we must secure the witch. Heaven
shield, with her guilt, the innocent!
THE MEN
[As they hurry out.]
Amen.
SIR CHARLES
[Outside.]
Go on!
DICKON
[To Justice Merton, who has importuned him, aside.]
And reveal thy youthful escapades to Rachel?
JUSTICE MERTON
God help me! no.
DICKON
So then, dear friends, this strange incident is happily
elucidated. The pain and contumely have fallen most heavily
upon my dear lord and master, but you are witnesses, even now,
of his silent and Christian forgiveness of your suspicions.
Bygones, therefore, be bygones. The future brightens—with
orange-blossoms! Hymen and Felicity stand with us here ready
to unite two amorous and bashful lovers. His lordship is
reticent; yet to you alone, of all beautiful ladies, Mistress
Rachel—
RAVENSBANE
[In a mighty voice.]
Silence!
DICKON
My lord would—
RAVENSBANE
Silence! Dare not to speak to her!
RACHEL
[Still at Richard’s side.]
Oh, my lord, if I have made you suffer—
RICHARD
[Appealingly.]
Rachel!
RAVENSBANE
[Approaching her, raises one arm to screen his face.]
Gracious lady! let fall your eyes; look not upon me. If I
have dared remain in your presence, if I dare now speak once
more to you, ’tis because I would have you know—O forgive
me!—that I love you.
RICHARD
Sir! This lady has renewed her promise to be my wife.
RAVENSBANE
Your wife, or not, I love her.
RICHARD
Zounds!
RAVENSBANE
Forbear, and hear me! For one wonderful day I have gazed
upon this, your world. The sun has kindled me and the moon has
blessed me. A million forms—of trees, of stones, of stars, of
men, of common things—have swum like motes before my eyes;
but one alone was wholly beautiful. That form was Rachel: to
her alone I was not ludicrous; to her I also was beautiful.
Therefore, I love her. You talk to me of mothers, mistresses,
lovers, and wives and sisters, and you say men love these.
What is love? The sun’s enkindling and the moon’s quiescence;
the night and day of the world—the all of life, the all which
must include both you and me and God, of whom you dream.
Well then, I love you, Rachel. What shall prevent me?
Mistress, mother, wife—thou art all to me!
RICHARD
My lord, I can only reply for Mistress Rachel, that you
speak like one who does not understand this world.
RAVENSBANE
O God! Sir, and do you? If so, tell me—tell me before it be
too late—why, in this world, such a thing as I can love and
talk of love. Why, in this world, a true man and woman,
like you and your betrothed, can look upon this counterfeit
and be deceived.
RACHEL AND RICHARD
Counterfeit?
RAVENSBANE
Me—on me—the ignominy of the earth, the laughing-stock of
the angels!
RACHEL
Why, my lord. Are you not—
JUSTICE MERTON
[To Ravensbane.]
Forbear! Not to her—
DICKON
My lord forgets.
RACHEL
Are you not Lord Ravensbane?
RAVENSBANE
Marquis of Oxford, Baron of Wittenberg, Elector of Worms,
and Count of Cordova? No, I am not Lord Ravensbane. I
am Lord Scarecrow!
[He bursts into laughter.]
RACHEL
[Shrinking back.]
Ah me!
RAVENSBANE
A nobleman of husks, bewitched from a pumpkin.
RACHEL
The image in the glass was true?
RAVENSBANE
Yes, true. It is the glass of truth—thank God! Thank God
for you, dear.
JUSTICE MERTON
Richard! Go for the minister; this proof of witchcraft needs
be known.
[Richard does not move.]
DICKON
My lord, this grotesque absurdity must end.
RAVENSBANE
True, Dickon! This grotesque absurdity must end. The laugher
and the laughing-stock, man and the worm, possess at least one
dignity in common: both must die.
DICKON
[Speaking low.]
Remember! if you dare—Rachel shall suffer for it.
RAVENSBANE
You lie. She is above your power.
DICKON
Still, thou darest not—
RAVENSBANE
Fool, I dare.
[Turning to Rachel.]
Mistress, this pipe is I. This intermittent smoke holds, in
its nebula, Venus, Mars, the world. If I should break
it—Chaos and the dark! And this of me that now stands up will
sink jumbled upon the floor—a scarecrow. See! I break it.
[He breaks the pipe in his hands, and flings the pieces
at Dickon’s feet in defiance; then turns, agonized, to
Rachel.]
Oh, Rachel, could I have been a man—!
DICKON
[Picking up the pieces of pipe, turns to Rachel.]
Mademoiselle, I felicitate you; you have outwitted the
devil.
[Kissing his fingers to her, he disappears.]
MISTRESS MERTON
[Seizing the Justice’s arm in fright.]
Satan!
JUSTICE MERTON
[Whispers.]
Gone!
RACHEL
Richard! Richard! support him.
RICHARD
[Sustaining Ravensbane, who sways.]
He is fainting. A chair!
RACHEL
[Placing a chair, helps Richard to support
Ravensbane toward it.]
How pale; but yet no change.
RICHARD
His heart, perhaps.
RACHEL
Oh, Dick, if it should be some strange mistake! Look! he is
noble still. My lord! my lord! the glass—
[She draws the curtain of the mirror, just opposite which
Ravensbane has sunk into the chair. At her cry, he
starts up faintly and gazes at his reflection, which
is seen to be a normal image of himself.]
RAVENSBANE
Who is it?
RACHEL
Yourself, my lord—’tis the glass of truth.
RAVENSBANE
[His face lighting with an exalted joy, starts
to his feet, erect, before the glass.]
A man!
[He falls back into the arms of the two lovers.]
Rachel!
[He dies.]
RACHEL
Richard, I am afraid. Was it a chimera, or a hero?
Finis