Part 2 / Act 4 — Scene III.—An Arab Encampment round a few palm-trees in the Desert—Watch-fires in the background.—Night.

Arab Chief. Thou hast fought bravely, stranger; Now, come on To share the spoil. Aym. I reck not of it. Go, Leave me to rest. Arab. Well, thou hast earn’d thy rest With a red sabre. Be it as thou wilt. [They go out.—He throws himself under a palm-tree. Aym. This were an hour—if they would answer us. —They from whose viewless world no answer comes— To hear their whispering voices. Would they but Speak once, and say they loved! If I could hear thy thrilling voice once more, It would be well with me. Moraima! speak! Rainier enters disguised as a dervise. Moraima, speak! No! the dead cannot love! Rai. What doth the stranger here!—is there not mirth Around the watch-fires yonder? Aym. Mirth!—away!— I’ve naught to do with mirth. Begone! Rai. They tell Wild tales by that red light; would’st thou not hear Of Eastern marvels? Aym. Hence! I heed them not. Rai. Nay, then hear me! Aym. Thee! Rai. Yes, I know a tale Wilder than theirs. Aym. (raising himself in surprise.) Thou know’st!— Rai. (without minding, continues.) A tale of one Who flung in madness to the reckless deep A gem beyond all price. Aym. My day is closed. What is aught human unto me? Rai. Yet mark! His name was of the noblest—dost thou heed?— Even in a land of princely chivalry; Brightness was on it—but he cast it down. Aym. I will not hear—speak’st thou of chivalry? Rai. Yes! I have been upon thy native hills. There’s a gray cliff juts proudly from their woods, Crown’d with baronial towers—rememberest thou? And there’s a chapel by the moaning sea— Thou know’st it well—tall pines wave over it, Darkening the heavy banners, and the tombs. Is not the cross upon thy fathers’ tombs!— Christian! what dost thou here? Aym. (starting up indignantly.) Man! who art thou Thy voice disturbs my soul. Speak! I will know Thy right to question me. Rai. (throwing off his disguise, stands before him in the full dress of a Crusader.) My birth-right!—look! Aym. Brother! (Retreating from him with horror.) —Her blood is on your hands!—keep back! Rai. (scornfully.) Nay, keep the Paynim’s garb from touching mine. Answer me thence!—what dost thou here? Aym. You shrink From your own work!—you, that have made me thus! Wherefore are you here? Are you not afraid To stand beneath the awful midnight sky, And you a murderer? Leave me. Rai. I lift up No murderer’s brow to heaven! Aym. You dare speak thus!— Do not the bright stars, with their searching rays, Strike through your guilty soul? Oh, no!—tis well, Passing well! Murder! Make the earth’s harvests grow With Paynim blood!—Heaven wills it! The free air, The sunshine—I forgot—they were not made For infidels. Blot out the race from day! Who talks of murder? Murder! when you die Claim your soul’s place of happiness i’ the name Of that good deed! (In a tone of deep feeling.) If you had loved a flower I would not have destroy’d it! Rai. (with emotion.) Brother! Aym. (impetuously.) No!— No brother now. She knelt to you in vain; And that hath set a gulf—a boundless gulf— Between our souls. Your very face is changed— There’s a red cloud shadowing it: your forehead wears The marks of blood—her blood! (In a triumphant tone.) But you prevail not! You have made the dead The mighty—the victorious! Yes! you thought To dash her image into fragments down, And you have given it power—such deep sad power, I see naught else on earth! Rai. (aside.) I dare not say she lives. (To Aymer, holding up the cross of his sword.) You see not this! Once by our father’s grave I ask’d, and here, I’ the silence of the waste, I ask once more— Have you abjured your faith? Aym. Why are you come To torture me? No, no! I have not. No! But you have sent the torrent through my soul, And by their deep strong roots torn fiercely up Things that were part of it—inborn feelings, thoughts— I know not what I cling to! Rai. Aymer! yet Heaven hath not closed its gates! Return, return, Before the shadow of the palm-tree fades I’ the waning moonlight. Heaven gives time. Return, My brother! By our early days—the love That nurtured us!—the holy dust of those That sleep i’ the tomb!—sleep! no, they cannot sleep! Doth the night bring no voices from the dead Back on your soul? Aym. (turning from him.) Yes—hers! Rai. (indignantly turning off.) Why should I strive? Why doth it cost me these deep throes to fling A weed off? [Checking himself. Brother, hath the stranger come Between our hearts for ever? Yet return— Win back your fame, my brother! Aym. Fame again! Leave me the desert!—leave it me! I hate Your false world’s glittering draperies, that press down Th’ o’erlabour’d heart! They have crush’d mine. Your vain And hollow-sounding words are wasted now: You should adjure me by the name of him That slew his son’s young bride!—our ancestor— That were a spell! Fame! fame!—your hand hath rent The veil from off your world! To speak of fame, When the soul is parch’d like mine! Away! I have join’d these men because they war with man, And all his hollow pomp! Will you go hence? (Fiercely.) Why do I talk thus with a murderer? Ay, This is the desert, where true words may rise Up unto heaven i’ the stillness! Leave it me!— The free wild desert! Arab Chief enters. Arab. Stranger, we have shared The spoil, forgetting not——A Christian here! Ho! sons of Kedar!—’tis De Chatillon! This way!—surround him! There’s an Emir’s wealth Set on his life! Come on! [Several Arabs rush in and surround Rainier, who, after vainly endeavouring to force his way through them, is made prisoner. Rai. And he stands there To see me bought and sold! Death, death!—not chains! [Aymer, who has stood for a moment as if bewildered, rushes forward, and strikes down one of the Arabs. Aym. Off from my brother, infidel! [The others hurry Rainier away. (Recollecting himself.) Why, then, heaven Is just! So! now I see it! Blood for blood! [Again rushing forward. No! he shall feel remorse! I’ll rescue him, And make him weep for her! [Exit.