Abstract
Richard Waldon’s play Lizzie Leigh can be interpreted as a domestic drama, a temperance play, or a sensational melodrama. In editing the script we asked ourselves which generic frame – the domestic or temperance – enables the sensation narrative to speak to an audience more powerfully today. Since the discourse of temperance is effectively culturally dead, our first editing decision was to delete the opening temperance dialogue and all subsequent references to temperance as such. We open our version of the play in the midst of an action, and all subsequent deletions to the script were made in the service of keeping the core action of the play in the foreground. We strived to capture how the action might speak to our audience within the contexts that we carry with us from our own cultural moment, our heightened awareness of forms of violence against women, and uncertainties about truth claims being the most prominent. Thus, we shortened the long paeans to lost domestic security and happiness, keeping domesticity as a thread but not a preoccupation. In other words, we kept enough of the domestic context to highlight the action with the intention to make the action as legible and as credible as we could.
Edited by Thomas Recchio, Lauren Eriks Cline, and Sophie Christman-Lavin for a one-hour staged reading at the North American Victorian Studies Association Conference held at St Petersburg, Florida, 12 October 2018.
ACT I
The First Christmas Night
Scene First
(Music – John Bawtry on stage at work; enter Lizzie Leigh, L.)
LIZZIE: At work yet, John? Do you know what day this is?
BAWTRY: To be sure I do. It’s Christmas day, or rather it’s Christmas night. Do you suppose, Lizzie, I had forgotten it?
LIZZIE: Or the promise you made this day twelve months, and which you have failed to perform?
BAWTRY: What promise?
LIZZIE: Oh, fie John! You have forgotten, when your word was pledged to remember and keep that promise?
BAWTRY: Pardon me, Lizzie, I do remember my promise, and though I have failed to keep it, and blush to own it, I will perform it. I promised this day twelve months back to marry you. I said when I have saved a few pounds and could furnish a cottage of my own we would be married. I have saved and thriven, I possess a house I can call my own, and a few days will make you the mistress of it.
LIZZIE: John, I am sure you will keep your word: do not think that I mistrust you, or for a moment doubt your intention to do me justice; but when a woman has sacrificed so much as I have for the man she loves, and justly fears the scoffs of an unfeeling world, it is no more than natural that she should long and pray for the hour that will place her name beyond reproach.
BAWTRY: Lizzie, I have been an unfeeling brute in delaying our union so long, but I now renew my promise, my girl, to make thee my wife in a week.
LIZZIE: Ah, bless you, John – you have made me truly happy. This will be joyful news to my dear mother, the only creature left to care for me.
BAWTRY: Except me, lass, and I’ll care for thee while life is mine to cherish and protect thee.
LIZZIE: And now, John, you’ll come and pass the evening with us. Christmas night remember.
BAWTRY: To be sure I will, and we’ll be as happy as the hour. I have an errand to run to the other end of the village. I’ll make all the haste I can, and then, lass, we’ll pass a merry evening. I’ll be back in less than twenty minutes.
(Bawtry exits R. – Music – Shouts off stage)
LIZZIE: A crowd of people coming this way – what has happened?
(Lizzie exits L.)
(Toby Darwen is dragged in. Enter Constable, Timothy and crowd.)
OMNES: To the stocks! to the stocks!
TOBY: My noble rum ’uns, only hear me! Listen to the voice of innocence! I never did nuffin wrong in hall my life! I’m as guiltless as the babby vot never was born.
OMNES: No, no, no!
TOBY: I say yes, yes, yes! Noble and huninlightened public – I appeal to the symphonies of the British natives. I’m the wictim of a cruel herror! I’ve been taken hup on suspicion!
OMNES: To the stocks! to the stocks!
TIM: Stop – stop lads! What’s he done? Give the chap a hearing; never condemn a man till he’s found guilty. What’s he done?
TOBY: That’s the question. What has I done? That’s vot I wants to know.
CONSTABLE: This vagrant was seen hanging about farmer Harrow’s barn, and I caught him robbing the hen roost.
TOBY: A false haccusation! Hear the counsel for the defense.
CONSTABLE: Who’s he?
TOBY: Myself. I shall conduct my own case, cause vy? I hunderstands it, in all its hins and houts.
OMNES: Hear, hear, hear!
TOBY: The unfortunate accused who stands before you in this here werry inflicting and indelicate position, is the hoffspring of werry respectable parents, who cruelly abandoned him in his infancy. His unfort’nate mother died a year afore he was born, and his paternal parient tuck to drink, and shuffled hoff his mortal coil afore the hobject of his solicitude – the hinjured being who stands afore you – saw the light of day. I vos thus cruelly bereft of the doting affection of parients. I vos brought up by generous strangers; that is, I vos fed on skilly in the blessed Union, till they benevolently turned me hout to get my own living.
OMNES: Ha, ha, ha!
TOBY: Don’t laugh at the hinfirmities of natur; it might be your own case tomorrow. I’ve been on the tramp for nineteen years, and I felt rather tired, so I crept into a barn, and rolled myself in the straw for a snooze. My slumbers vos hinterrupted by the discordant woice of a bantam cock, who gave sich a loud crow that he put his neck out of jint, and fell as dead as a red herrin’ at my feet. I didn’t like to leave him there to be gobbled up by the rats that had been nibblin’ my toes all night, so I put his corpus in my pocket for the purpose of giving it decent interment.
CONSTABLE: That is not all. I found four eggs in his pockets.
TOBY: That’s easily accounted for. A misguided hen in the simplicity of her nature, wishing to secure a safe asylum for her unhatched brood, crept into the capacious recesses of my pocket to lay. My friends, don’t let it be said that her confidence was misplaced.
CONSTABLE: Away with him to the stocks! (Music, Toby is seized)
(Enter Tom Heywood and Black Norris)
TOM: Hallo! What’s up, eh, my lads? What poor devil have you got in limbo?
CONSTABLE: A vagrant, squire, who has been robbing the village.
TOBY: Eh? No! Can it be? Yes it is – no it aren’t – it is though – vel I’m blest!
TOM: Toby!
TOBY: Dash my vig! Captain!
TOM: Hush! (aside to Toby)
CONSTABLE: Do you know him, squire?
TOM: Yes, yes, he’s an old acquaintance, a very honest fellow, I assure you. Here has been some mistake.
TOBY: In course there has! I told ’em it was all a mistake. They’ve mistaken me for some other scamp.
TOM: Constable, you may release this man – I will be answerable for him.
CONSTABLE: Well, if you say so, squire, I suppose it’s all right.
(Music)
TOM: Now, ye limb of Satan, what brings ye here?
TOBY: My legs, my rum ’un; and I found it precious difficult to use ’em too. I’ve been so long on the crank, always going up and never coming down (imitates action of tread-mill) that I find it werry hard to go straight forward.
TOM: How long have you left prison?
TOBY: Only three days. I expected to have wintered in the jug, only they let me out for the Christmas holidays. Precious spiteful of ’em it was, too, ’cause you see I missed my roast beef and plumb duff. I prefer prison fare to work’us fare – they feeds felons better than they do paupers. A just and merciful law that, arn’t it?
NORRIS: How is it you get into trouble so often?
TOBY: ’Cause I was born under a hunlucky planet. If I only rob a hen roost, I’m sure to be found out. I shouldn’t mind imprisonment, if it vosn’t for vippings, and don’t they lay it on? – oh, crikey! (rubs his shoulders)
TOM: Have you done business in this neighbourhood? – in other words, are you known here?
TOBY: Not as I knows on. I came down here to rusticate; to enjoy the charms of innocence and natur’. My antecedents hasn’t preceded me here; they doesn’t know me for a larceny cove.
TOM: That’s fortunate; – you may be of use to us.
TOBY: You haven’t cut the profession, captain?
TOM: No, no; but here, Toby, I’m known as the squire. You understand?
TOBY: I’m awake.
TOM: No one suspects that I ever cried “Stand” to a traveler.
TOBY: (Points to Black Norris) And this gemman?
TOM: He’s one of us. A prime fence – keeps the village inn yonder. Snug’s the word; and no one a whit the wiser.
TOBY: You were born under a lucky star, captain. Mercury the god of thieves, must have been your ruling planet.
TOM: Why, Toby, you improve in your style of expression most wonderfully!
TOBY: Yes; I’m taking in ‘Education for the Million,’ in penny numbers. They taught me to read in prison, and I’m just learning to write. I hope soon to add a little forgery to my other branches of business. A little learning’s a dangerous thing. Send a cove to goal vot’s born and bred a thief, keep him in ignorance, and he’s only a thief all his days; learn him to read and write, and he turns out a first-class swindler – A, One! Instead of petty larceny, he pockets millions; and if they blows on him, they only sends him out of the country, to grow rich in another land.
NORRIS: Quite a philosopher!
TOBY: No. I’m only a prig; but I hope to be a gemman yet.
TOM: Well, come into the house, and after supper we’ll put you up to something that’ll make your fortune.
TOBY: That’s your sort, captain! I longs to work again under you – you is such an hout and houter.
(Exit Toby and Black Norris; enter Lizzie Leigh)
TOM: So, so, here comes the pretty girl I met in the meadow yesterday morning. She treated me coldly enough, then. I’ll see if she rejects my advances now.
LIZZIE: John has not returned yet. What can detain him so long?
TOM: Good evening, my dear! The compliments of the season.
LIZZIE: (aside) That bold man who accosted me yesterday. (Tom Heywood takes her hand and detains her.)
TOM: Don’t be alarmed, my pretty girl; I will do you no harm.
LIZZIE: Sir, this familiarity from a stranger!
TOM: Oh, nonsense! I know you well enough; and you ought to know me. I have often endeavoured to attract your notice, but you have always avoided my advances. I can excuse your coyness; you are country bred, and shy at receiving the advances of a young devil-may-care fellow like myself, however you may wish to encourage them. The women manage these things better in Town, although they sometimes exhibit a little prudery.
LIZZIE: Sir, this boldness! I am unused to listen to such language. Let me go!
TOM: Not until I’ve had a kiss. I love you, you rogue; and if you will only listen to me, I’ll make a lady of you.
LIZZIE: Release me sir, I insist!
TOM: Don’t be foolish, and kick up such an infernal row! I must have a kiss!
LIZZIE: (Struggles) Help! Help! (Music)
Enter Bawtry; seizes Heywood by the arm and swings him round; Lizzie clings to Bawtry.
BAWTRY: Lizzie, lass! Has the coward insulted you?
LIZZIE: Oh, I am so glad you’ve come to my assistance.
TOM: What’s the devil’s that?
BAWTRY: A real Lancashire grip. Do’ee want any more?
TOM: Scoundrel! You have broken my arm!
BAWTRY: If thee stay’st much longer I’ll break thy head!
TOM: How dare you insult me?
BAWTRY: How dare you insult this girl? She’s none of thy sort. Let me tell thee this, squire, for now I know thee – that honest lasses are not to be insulted with impunity. If you come any of your London tricks here, you must expect to meet rough treatment. Lancashire lasses are not such fools as to pick up wi’ such jack-o’-dandy’s as thee, and Lancashire lads be always ready and willing to protect ’em from insult.
TOM: (aside) Confound the clodhopping blockhead! He shall bitterly rue his insolence. Hark ye, my lad! I leave you now in the enjoyment of your triumph; but remember you have made a foe of Tom Heywood. (Exit)
BAWTRY: An open foe is better than a hidden enemy, they say. I shall beware thee, squire, depend o’it. How came he to insult thee, lass?
LIZZIE: This is the second time he has accosted me. The first I disregarded his impertinence; but now he would have used outrage if you had not been near to protect me.
BAWTRY: Hang him!
LIZZIE: I feel a repugnance toward that man I cannot account for; a presentiment of evil in which he will exercise an influence over me.
BAWTRY: If he attempts to injure thee, he’ll find it plaguy hard I’ll warrant.
LIZZIE: No, no John, take no further notice of him. You’re going to spend the evening with us – you know, with me and mother in our own little cottage yonder.
(Enter Black Norris and Tim)
NORRIS: John Bawtry, I’ve a message to thee, from the squire.
BAWTRY: Eh?
NORRIS: He sends his apology to Lizzie Leigh, for his late rudeness, and invites thee to take a glass with him to drown all animosity.
BAWTRY: Did he say that? I forgive him with all my heart, and so does Lizzie here; and since the squire sends such an humble apology, I’ll not decline his generous offer.
LIZZIE: Oh, John! I entreat you do not go; accept his apology, but do not go I beg you.
NORRIS: Why, lass, thou’ll not prevent them from being friends? Can’t you spare your sweetheart for half an hour?
BAWTRY: Ay, ay in half an hour I’ll come to thee. I can’t refuse to drink with the squire, it would look like malice, and John Bawtry’s not the man to nourish animosity.
LIZZIE: But, John, you have been drinking already.
BAWTRY: Only one glass. I must have an extra pint, lass, because it’s Christmas night! There go in, I’ll not stay long. Now, Norris, I’m with you!
LIZZIE: (alone) I cannot return, an irresistible impulse chains me to the spot; I feel as if something terrible is about to happen, of what nature I know not; but on the events of tonight hang, perhaps, my happiness or misery. (church chimes play “Home sweet home” – Lizzie speaks through the music) The village chimes! How often I have listened to them in my childhood, till the sound seemed to grow a part of my every day existence; one of the dearly cherished ties that bound my heart to home. Often on a summer’s evening I have sat, weaving garlands of wild flowers, by my father’s grave and listened to the chimes, whose music pictured home when that father sat within our humble cottage and smiled at my infant play. I wept at the remembrance of my loneliness when death took him from us; but the sweet harmony of the chimes seemed to whisper that heaven had called him to a dearer home, where we should join him one day never to part more. All seems quiet now, people are coming from the inn. I have not power to move from this spot. (chimes cease – cautious music)
(Enter Tom Heywood, Black Norris and Toby; Lizzie remains on stage, hiding)
TOM: (to Toby) Come into the air, fool, it will revive you. Now recover your scattered senses, and listen to me.
TOBY: I’m awake! Perceed, my pippin! But it’s precious cold here. Why have you left the fire?
TOM: Listen to me. What I have to say lies between ourselves: sit down here, and observe me well. Norris, is all right?
NORRIS: I’ve secured him, never fear – he’ll sleep till daybreak.
TOM: All’s well. Now, Toby, mark me. Farmer Adlington is to pass by the old mill dam with a large sum of money to pay his rent tomorrow. He is to sleep at his son’s house tonight. We must waylay him on the road, secure the booty, and divide equally – you understand?
TOBY: I’m fly! How do you work the oracle?
TOM: Easily. I have disguises ready, and masks which will prevent our being recognized. If the fool resists, the mill dam is deep enough to receive a dead body, and conceal it too. (Lizzie utters a half shriek) Confusion! What’s that?
TOBY: I heard a voice.
TOM: If an eavesdropper, my knife shall (music) – Ha! By heaven! (lunges towards Lizzie with knife, pierces a red cloak, Lizzie escapes)
NORRIS: Rash fool! What have you done?
TOM: Struck at a red rag – an old cloak which some one has left on a seat, a terrible object truly to alarm us. It is getting time for us to be off. The farmer will pass the old mill at eight o’clock, we must be off, and wait his coming.
LIZZIE: (aside) Ha! I may be in time to warn him of his danger. By a near road I may reach the old mill before them. (Exit)
TOM: Norris, are you sure that John Bawtry sleeps soundly?
NORRIS: I drugged his drink, he went off like a top, and I’ve locked him in a back room in case he should awaken before our return.
TOM: That is right. I will put on his clothes, so that in case of detection suspicion will fall upon him. I should like to hang him for the blow he struck me. Now quick! Fetch the disguises, and let us be off. (exit)
Scene Second
(Enter Lizzie Leigh hurriedly)
LIZZIE: I have gained the spot. It is near here that Farmer Adlington must pass. If I could only warn him of his danger, he might be able to escape his assailants. I ought to have summoned assistance; but fate seems to have hurried my steps hither. I expose myself to terrible danger! – should the villains discover me, what will be my fate? I tremble with apprehension! Shall I return, and alarm the village? No, no – time is too precious – succor would arrive too late. Oh, heaven, look down! – aid and protect me in this hour of peril! (music – distant clock strikes eight) Hark! – the church clock strikes eight. It is the fatal hour. Footsteps! – let me conceal myself!
(Music – Lizzie hides)
TOM: This is the place. Conceal yourselves behind those trees; and when the farmer arrives, pounce suddenly upon him. Silence his cries if he resists.
LIZZIE: Eternal heaven! – that form! My tongue is tied! – I cannot speak or move! – Ah, heaven, I freeze with horror!
TOBY: I hobject to the perceeding. I never silenced anybody in my life. I’m getting sober now, and my heyes is hopen to the henormity of my hoffence.
NORRIS: Peace, fool!
TOBY: I don’t mind a little larceny, but murder I leaves entirely to you.
TOM: Keep silent, or I’ll murder you! Hark! – he comes! (Music, tremulendo – they exit)
(From off stage)
NORRIS: Out with the money!
TOBY: Down with the mopusses!
ADLINGTON: Beset with thieves!
NORRIS: Your money or your life?
ADLINGTON: My life sooner than yield to villains like you!
(Pistol shot, Lizzie screams)
(Enter Black Norris)
NORRIS: Confusion! We are betrayed! Silence him, Tom! (Norris pursues Lizzie)
(Enter Tom Heywood and Toby; Norris returns)
NORRIS: By heaven! We have been watched! That girl, who escaped me, has given the alarm! Quick! The money, and away to the inn.
TOM: The fool has paid dearly for his resistance. The money is ours. There are lights approaching – the village is alarmed. Away! away!
(Music. Enter Timothy Entwistle and villagers)
TIM: This way lads! I heard the cry of murder borne on the frosty air; the wild shriek of a woman, and the voices of men. Take my word for it, there’s some foul deed committed. The cries proceeded from the direction of the old mill. This way, lads, this way!
Scene Third
(Music – Enter Tom Heywood, Black Norris, and Toby)
TOM: We have reached the village unseen, unsuspected. Now to change these clothes, and fix the guilt on John Bawtry. Quick, lads, not a moment is to be lost. (Exit)
(Off stage cries of ‘This way, this way!’: Villagers enter from L. and R. Music)
(Lizzie Leigh shrieks off stage and rushes on stage)
LIZZIE: Help! Help! They have murdered him.
VILLAGER: Murdered, whom?
LIZZIE: I saw him fall – the old man, weltering in his blood – he – he shot him down.
VILLAGER: Whom mean you?
LIZZIE: What have I said? Whom have I accused? No, no, believe me not, for I am mad – mad!
VILLAGER: Some fearful deed has been committed. See, see, they bear a body this way.
(Music)
Enter Timothy Entwistle, Tom Heyward (in his own clothes), Black Norris, and Toby bearing Adlington’s body. Lizzie sinks to the ground.
TIM: Neighbours, a terrible outrage has been committed! Farmer Adlington has been stopped near the old mill, robbed, and all but murdered; as we bore him along he spoke to us. He said he should recognize his assassin.
(Enter Bawtry in his coat and hat)
BAWTRY: Neighbours, what be all this? I have had a strange dream. My senses are scarcely collected now! What sight is here?
ADLINGTON: Behold my murderer! (dies)
BAWTRY: Murderer? I? No, no! I could not stain my hands in a fellow creature’s blood! Neighbours! Neighbours! You all know me too well for that.
TIM: What is this in the dead man’s hand? A button torn from the murderer’s coat. Behold the proof! (compares the button to Bawtry’s coat)
BAWTRY: Proof! Proof that I killed him? No, no; it’s false. Neighbours! Do you believe me guilty? (all turn away from him) You turn away from me! You condemn me! Ah, this must be a terrible dream! I guilty of shedding an old man’s blood! No, no – there be no witness!
LIZZIE: (rises) I myself beheld the deed!
TIM: And the murderer’s name –
LIZZIE: John Bawtry! (Lizzie falls senseless – Bawtry stares in horror)
A Lapse of Four Years between the First and Second Act
ACT II
The Second Christmas Night
Scene First
(Jack Hindley, Timothy Entwistle and farmers on stage; night, music tremulendo)
TIM: It is a cold night, neighbours. It has never ceased snowing all day; and the wind whistles round the old house like the wails of the dying! Heaven shield all poor souls who are exposed to the pitiless blast and the drifting snow, this bitter Christmas night! I wonder if poor Lizzie Leigh has found shelter in the storm? Poor wench! She wanders about the country, a hopeless maniac! And if it wasn’t for the charity of strangers, she must have perished long ago.
HINDLEY: Ay; it were a sad thing for the lass when her lover were tried for the murder of Farmer Adlington, and found guilty of the crime, she being the chief witness against him. Although he were masked when she saw him strike the fatal blow, she swore to the clothes he wore, and a button torn off his coat, found tightly clutched in the dead man’s hand, proved his guilt. John Bawtry were condemned to death; and strange to say, he escaped from his cell the very morning fixed for his execution, and he has never since been heard of.
TIM: And Lizzie, who was to have been wedded to John Bawtry, gave birth to a daughter three nights after the night of the murder. In her madness and delirium, she would have destroyed the child; but some charitable people took the infant and reared it, and its hapless mother wandered from village to village, deprived of reason.
HINDLEY: What can have become of John Bawtry? If he’s living, life must be a burden to him, with such heavy guilt upon his conscience.
TIM: Mark my words – he will turn up one day when least expected. It be now four years this Christmas night since the murder was committed, but the assassin will not escape much longer unpunished.
(Music – Enter Tom Heywood)
TOM: Jack! My prince of hosts! It’s fortunate you are not gone to bed, or I should have been compelled to have knocked you up.
HINDLEY: Indeed, squire. What’s up?
TOM: I’ve just returned from a party, Jack; and I intended to have proceeded home, but the snow prevented me, and so I’ve made up my mind to sleep here tonight.
(Music, tremulendo – Lizzie Leigh appears at the window, wild and fantastic)
LIZZIE: (at window) Ha, ha, ha! (she disappears)
TOM: What was that?
HINDLEY: I heard nothing but the moaning of the wind.
TOM: Let me have some brandy – my very blood is chilled!
HINDLEY: Immediately, squire. (Exits)
TOM: I dare not confess the true reason of my seeking shelter here. As I was proceeding across the common, making the best of my way through the snow towards the hall, a dark figure crouched on the ground attracted my attention. I regarded it for a moment, when I saw two eyes, like balls of liquid fire, gleaming upon me with an unearthly light. A voice, hollow and sepulchral, pronounced my name; then there pealed forth a burst of wild laughter, that made my blood run cold. The figure rose and stood before me in a warning attitude. I recognized the maniac, Lizzie Leigh. A gleam of intelligence seem’d to light up her death-like face, as she denounced me as an assassin. I turned and fled in horror. I could not for the world have passed her.
(Re-enter Jack Hindley with glass of brandy)
HINDLEY: You seem scared, squire, what’s the matter?
TOM: Nothing – I am chilled with the cold, that is all. (drinks – aside) Ha, ha! What a fool to be scared at a shadow.
(Music – Lizzie Leigh re-appears at window)
LIZZIE: (sings or speaks)Earth cannot hide it, or water, nor sky;
The grave cannot keep it – the murderer’s nigh!
(laughs wildly)
TOM: Again that sound! (Looks toward window) Great heaven! Again that terrible form, those gleaming eyes pursue me!
HINDLEY: What’s the matter squire?
TOM: Did you not hear that voice? Those tones whose echoes make my blood freeze in my veins.
HINDLEY: It must have been that poor wandering maniac, Lizzie Leigh; she often seeks shelter here, poor soul, and I never refuse her admission.
TOM: Here, say you? Then I would not remain for worlds. I will sooner brave the storm, and make my way homewards.
HINDLEY: Why, poor wench, she can do thee no harm, squire; although she has lost her reason, she never harms the worm in her path.
TOM: Possibly; but I have made up my mind to return home. So, good night, Jack – I’ve only a mile to walk, and the moon is up to light me on my way.
HINDLEY: Good night, squire. I’ll see you to the door. (Exit)
(Re-enter Jack Hindley conducting John Bawtry)
HINDLEY: This way, my man. It’s lucky for you you didn’t arrive a half-hour later or you’d have found us gone to bed. You seem tired. Sit down by the fire and warm yourself. Have you been journeying far?
BAWTRY: A matter of forty miles.
HINDLEY: A long walk in this weather. What will you take?
BAWTRY: A sup of ale. I cannot eat – I am too exhausted to touch food.
HINDLEY: You wish to stop here you say? (Puts ale on the table) You can sleep in this bed and tomorrow continue your journey. Good night.
(Music, tremulendo)
BAWTRY: So he don’t suspect me. I shouldn’t have entered here, only I saw a name I never heard of over the door. I’ve met many today, whose features were familiar to me, but no one appeared to recognize me. Four years must have changed me greatly. I looked for the grave of poor Lizzie Leigh, but I couldn’t find it. They told me she was dead – far away I heard it, and I wept for her loss, for I fondly loved her, although, poor lass, her evidence condemned me for a crime of which I was guiltless. She was cruelly mistaken, and deceived by a resemblance I have striven in vain to account for. May heaven reveal the true murderer, and clear my name from the infamy that now attaches to it. (lies down on bed)
(Enter Lizzie Leigh cautiously)
LIZZIE: He sleeps there! The assassin of my dreams. As I constantly see him in the darkness and the gloom of night, he bears the brand upon his brow, and his looks are scarred with crime. They hanged John Bawtry in his stead; they said I had denounced him! No, no! I loved him too truly to harm him. It was the cruel fiend, whose features I see in the depths of the clear stream; whose shadow haunts me in the sunshine, whose boding voice comes to me in the night blast! (Points to bed) The wretch who stole from me my child! Ha! Ha! I’ll strangle him in his sleep. (Music, agitato, pianissimo – Lizzie Leigh peers at Bawtry, shrieks and rushes off)
BAWTRY: (rises, startled) Great heaven! Is this a dream? No, no! the features were too vivid, the form too palpable – ’twas Lizzie who stood beside me! And hark! The echo of that piercing scream still vibrates on the night wind. I’ll follow it though it be to death. (exit)
Scene Second
TOM: I’ve mistaken the track. The snow drift has completely altered the face of the country, and roads and hedges are alike undistinguishable. I cannot even return, for I can’t retrace the way I came. I’ve heard of people being lost in the snow, and perishing of cold and hunger – if such should be my fate? I feel a strange drowsiness come over me, an inclination to lie down and sleep; but I must struggle against the desire, or I shall be lost! (calls) Hollo! It’s useless, there is no habitation near! I must keep on as well as I can. (Exit, music)
(Enter Lizzie Leigh)
LIZZIE: Ha, ha! I’m on the track! I know it, I feel it: for the iced blood in my veins flows back to my heart, and my wild brain throbs more fiercely. The scent of blood is in the air! Murder rides on the night wind! Ha, ha, ha! When the murderer has met his doom, then they will set him free! Ha, ha, ha! Free again to claim me as his wife! – softly – softly. (sings)
Onward, Lizzie, ne’er hang back,
Thou art on the murderer’s track! (exit)
Scene Third
(Tom Heywood discovered lying on the ground, music, tremulendo)
TOM: To perish thus! To perish in the snow! Alone, quite alone; no human soul near me! At this moment I would give worlds to prolong my life, one day – one hour! The past rushes upon my brain with fearful vividness, and the crimes of my life are arrayed against me! A hand of stone seems laid upon my heart – ah! Mercy, heaven, it is the hand of death!
(Enter Lizzie Leigh)
LIZZIE: Aye, death! The angel of destruction hovers over you! So should the murderer perish!
TOM: A human voice! (attempts to rise) That form – those features! ’Tis she! The betrothed of my victim, the accuser of the innocent, the one witness!
LIZZIE: Ay, the accuser of the innocent! In my madness I denounced him! They say I am mad now; but in my dreams I see the deed again enacted – there is a death struggle and the victim falls. I see again his murderous assailants; there are three! – three! One I mistook for him – my lover, my husband! – but the mask falls from his face now, and I know the real assassin! The destroyer of my hopes! The murderer of the innocent! The assassin of my child! (Lizzie seizes Heywood by the throat)
TOM: Take your fingers from my throat! Sooner let me perish in the snow, than feel thy accursed touch! – the hand that tightened the hangman’s knot about the neck of a guiltless man!
LIZZIE: And thou the murderer! Ha, ha, ha!
(They struggle; Heywood throws her off; enter Bawtry)
TOM: Horror! – the dead returned to life!
BAWTRY: No, the living, villain! – I accuse you, and call down vengeance on your accursed head! (bends over Lizzie) My poor injured lass! – look up and bless me with a word! ’Tis I – thy lover – thy husband!
LIZZIE: My accuser!
BAWTRY: No, no: I forgive thee, girl. May heaven forgive those who brought thee to this.
LIZZIE: You pardon me? – then I am happy! I can die calmly now! Bless me – bless me! Let me feel your cheek pressed to mine! I cannot see you now! – all is dark – dark! (dies)
TOM: There are people approaching; I must accuse him to screen myself.
(Music. Enter Jack Hindley, Timothy Entwistle, and villagers)
HINDLEY: Yield murderer! And go with us. (John Bawtry is seized)
BAWTRY: What means this violence?
HINDLEY: You are our prisoner.
TOM: And I will appear against him. It is no other than the escaped felon, John Bawtry.
ALL: John Bawtry!
A lapse of Twelve Years are supposed to occur between the Second and Third Acts
ACT III
Scene First
(Festive music, enter Ellen Stott)
ELLEN: Edward not arrived yet? – what can detain the lad, on such a day as this too? Ah, here he comes.
(Enter Edward Middleton)
MIDDLETON: Well, aunt, here I am in high spirits! With a heart as light and buoyant as a feather! Where’s Bessy?
ELLEN: Ah, you’ll see her bye-and-bye; young folks are so impatient.
MIDDLETON: Impatient! My dear aunt, I couldn’t sleep all night. I jumped out of bed before daylight this morning, dressed myself in the dark, and took a run on the hills an hour before sunrise, returned home as fresh and hearty as a buck – ate such a breakfast!
ELLEN: What, on the morning before your wedding?
MIDDLETON: Ha, ha! – I have heard of folks living on love, but it’s rather too light a diet for me to feed upon. But where is Bessy all this time?
ELLEN: She has been waiting for you this half-hour, and because you didn’t come to the minute she went to pout like a spoiled child in a corner. Here she comes!
(Enter Bessy)
MIDDLETON: Bessy, dear Bessy!
BESSY: Go away, sir, you’ve kept me waiting more than twenty minutes. I don’t think I shall speak to you.
MIDDLETON: Won’t you forgive me?
BESSY: I can’t hear you.
MIDDLETON: Then I must try more expressive language. (snatches a kiss)
BESSY: Well, I’m sure! You might have stopped till you were asked.
MIDDLETON: I’ll give it back if you like.
ELLEN: Shut your eyes, girls, he’s gong to kiss her again.
BESSY: Well, I suppose I must forgive you as this is your last day of liberty. Tomorrow I shall make you do as I please.
MIDDLETON: I shall be only too happy to obey your rule.
ELLEN: Edward, I believe you are a good, honest lad, and will make Bessy a good husband. Poor Bessy is, as you know, an orphan. I have reared her since she was an infant. Twelve years ago this very day her poor mother died. It was a wild tempestuous night, the snow lay deep upon the ground, and unsheltered from the inclemency of the weather, she perished in the snow.
BESSY: My poor mother!
MIDDLETON: I have heard the story of poor Lizzie Leigh when I was a boy. In her dying moments, her reason that had deserted her for years, returned, it is said, and she accused others of the crime for which her unfortunate lover was doomed to suffer.
ELLEN: Yes; but John Bawtry, who effected his escape from prison on the morning fixed for his execution, was apprehended and again tried. His original sentence was commuted to penal servitude. Poor fellow, his sufferings are no doubt over, for he loved Lizzie fondly, and in my heart I believe he was guiltless.
(Music – enter Bawtry)
BAWTRY: My good folks, pardon a stranger’s intrusion among you. I have been walking all night, and I am sadly fatigued.
MIDDLETON: Sit down, my good man, and rest yourself. Will you take any refreshment?
BAWTRY: Thank you, a glass of water to cool my parched lips. (Music – Bessy offers the water; Bawtry looks into her face) Great heaven! Those features! You are – ah! speak – your name?
BESSY: Bessy Stott. What agitates you?
BAWTRY: It was a dream – a vision passed before my eyes, but it has faded. But you are like – ah! So very like –
BESSY: Whom?
BAWTRY: One I knew in years gone by; her very image lives again in you – the eyes – the mouth – her very smile. Her lips are cold – her eyes are closed in death.
MIDDLETON: Poor fellow! He seems greatly overcome. Shall I assist you into the house, my friend? You appear weak and ill.
BAWTRY: A sudden faintness, that is all. I shall grow better soon. I have only been in England a few days. I have been accustomed lately to a warmer climate, and the transition is almost too much for me.
MIDDLETON: And yet the weather is uncommonly mild and genial for this time of year; it is more like spring than Christmas; so different to the Christmas weather I can remember when a boy.
BAWTRY: Yes, yes; I too can remember when the seasons were different – when the snow lay deep upon the ground – when the mountain streams were frozen in their course – when the cattle died on the hills, and poor wayfarers were lost and perished in snow drifts.
ELLEN: I don’t remember such a Christmas you describe for twelve years.
BAWTRY: Twelve years. Yes, yes; this very day twelve years ago.
ELLEN: Were you in England then?
BAWTRY: I was.
ELLEN: In this neighbourhood?
BAWTRY: Within a few miles of this village.
ELLEN: Did you ever hear of Lizzie Leigh?
BAWTRY: Yes.
ELLEN: Did you ever hear the fate of John Bawtry?
BAWTRY: I have heard it. He was banished his country, and – and died in Australia.
ELLEN: Died? Are you sure?
BAWTRY: I have just returned from the land of gold. He died at the diggings, where I amassed a considerable fortune.
ALL: You!
BAWTRY: Yes, I, my friends, – I suppose you took me for a houseless vagrant, but look here – notes to an almost fabulous amount – nuggets from Australia.
(Heywood in rags, appears, listening)
MIDDLETON: Didn’t you think it imprudent to travel with so large an amount?
BAWTRY: No one would suppose that a poor looking object like myself is possessed of such incalculable riches; or if they did and robbed me of it, it wouldn’t break my heart. I have no one to leave it to, – neither brother, sister, wife, or child. I will now proceed on my way. Thank you, my friends, for your hospitality, and may the blessings of the day be upon you.
MIDDLETON: Stay, my man; I feel an interest for you, not because you are rich, but because you appear unhappy. If you like to remain here for the day, and partake in our festivities, you are heartily welcome.
BAWTRY: I thank you – deeply thank you for the first kind words I have heard addressed to me in years. Tell me your name, – you shall find that I have a grateful memory.
MIDDLETON: My name is Edward Middleton.
ELLEN: Yes, and tomorrow he’s going to be married.
BESSY: To me, sir.
BAWTRY: May you be as happy, as happy as I wish you, for the sake of one you so much resemble.
ELLEN: (aside) Is it possible he can mean Lizzie Leigh? (aloud) My adopted daughter is supposed to be the very image of her dead and gone mother.
BAWTRY: And she was –
ELLEN: Her name was Lizzie Leigh.
BAWTRY: Great heaven! Her child! (staggers) You – you – the child of Lizzie Leigh? Let me fold you, press you to my heart! (recollects) Pardon me! Pardon me! My brain wanders. I know not what I say. Do not notice my wild words, I beg. I will accept your kind hospitality. I will shortly return, and you shall learn strange tidings. I like you, boy. (they shake hands) Yours is an honest grasp. You’ll make her happy. Bless you, boy. Bless you!
(All exit)
Scene Second
(Enter Tom Heywood greatly altered in appearance)
TOM: Bank notes! Nuggets from Australia! Wealth enough for life! It must be mine! I have dogged his steps for hours. He crossed the country to Littleborough, but he is pledged to return. He must pass this way. I shall need assistance. Toby can aid me. (calls or whistles)
Enter Toby
TOBY: Here I is, my pippin. Vot’s the lay?
TOM: Any luck, Toby?
TOBY: Werry bad. I’ve been trying the lame and blind dodge, but the infirmities of nature didn’t seem to exhite much sympathy, only a mag and a joey for exposing my himperfections.
TOM: It’s a sad change with us, Toby, since this night twelve years ago.
TOBY: Don’t mention it, it puts me in a cold shiver, and the werry recollection of that ere night gives me a fit of the ague.
TOM: But I’ve a plan to make both our fortunes, if you will second me in it.
TOBY: What is it?
TOM: A gold mine, man! A traveler just arrived from Australia, with nuggets of gold and bank notes, enough to be the making of us for life. We must obtain them! You understand?
TOBY: Unfortunately I does, but I hasn’t the pluck to commit another murder.
TOM: Hark ye. I can put the rope round your neck, and I’ll do it too, if you grow chicken-hearted! Will you aid me?
TOBY: I suppose I must since you are so werry pressing.
TOM: That’s right. Hark! A footstep! It is he! Step back and conceal yourself.
TOBY: I’m all of a jelly! I can feel my legs melting from under me like two sticks of barley sugar in the sun.
(Music – enter John Bawtry)
BAWTRY: I’ve paid a visit to the grave of my poor Lizzie Leigh, and wet the green turf that covers her with my tears. Thank heaven, her child yet lives to inherit my love. It is in my power to make two hearts happy, and their affection will cheer my downward path of life. (Heywood and Toby advance). Eh, my men – what seek ye?
TOM AND TOBY: Charity.
BAWTRY: Charity! Well, well you do look as if you needed it. There. (gives Toby money)
TOBY: What, a bob between the two of us!
BAWTRY: What! – do you dictate to the generous alms-giver how he should dole out his charity?
TOM: By no means, noble sir; only you see a shilling is like a drop of water in the ocean to us, when you come to divide it among twelve. I’ve got an old woman at home, and my pal there has two wives and seven children, with another on the stocks.
BAWTRY: I’m not to be imposed upon by the cunning of idle vagrants who are too lazy to work.
TOM: Then, since you refuse to assist us, we must help ourselves. (draws a knife) I’ll trouble you for your pocket-book; you must find it a great inconvenience to you. (with mock politeness) I’ll place the contents in my bank to your account.
TOBY: (with mock politeness) And I’ll relieve you of those precious nuggets you carry about with you; they must be a great deal of trouble to you, and they’ll be none whatever to us.
BAWTRY: I suppose I must yield to your persuasive arguments. (reaches into his pocket-book as if to give over the nuggets, but instead pulls out a gun)
TOM: Fool! Do you think you frighten us?
TOBY: He looks determined. We’d better give it up.
BAWTRY: Ah, now you talk like a reasonable man. There’s nothing like a persuasive argument, you see (Bawtry smiles and as he turns to go he drops his pardon, which Tom quickly retrieves; exit)
Scene Third
(Music: “Home Sweet Home”)
BESSY: How sweet it is to sit and listen to the simple melody of the village bells that is wafted to us in the stillness that reigns round. It seems to possess a holy influence, and whispers the loved language of home – the fond remembrances of the past. The memory of my dear mother is mingled with the music of the bells, and I seem to listen as she once listened to the well-known melody of home oft heard in happy childhood.
(Enter Bawtry)
BAWTRY: So I have reached the cottage once more – the hospitable roof that shelters the child of Lizzie Leigh. I long to fold her to my heart, and trace in her sweet features the resemblance to her mother. All is silent within. I trust the inmates have not retired to rest. No, there is a light burning. I will venture to knock.
BESSY: Who is there?
BAWTRY: Do not be alarmed though my rough appearance is enough to terrify you. Do you not remember me? You kindly offered me your hospitality this morning.
BESSY: My good man, I am glad you have returned, for after you went away so suddenly, my aunt seemed very anxious about you; and will be glad to see you again. I will fetch her.
BAWTRY: Stay, oh stay! I can no longer withhold the avowal that trembles on my lips for utterance – an avowal that I would have no ears but yours to listen to; for this interview is too sacred for others to witness of it.
BESSY: Again this strange agitation – what does it mean?
BAWTRY: Tell me, does the memory of your mother still live with you?
BESSY: But as an ill-remembered dream. I was a mere infant when I was taken by my aunt and reared as her own child; and shortly after, I have been told, my poor mother died.
BAWTRY: Yes, died – died in the stormy winter’s night, her trembling form lying on the cold snow, her throbbing brow pillowed on this breast, while my tears bedewed her pallid cheeks.
BESSY: Merciful heaven! You then are –
BAWTRY: Thy father, girl, John Bawtry.
BESSY: My father! (kneels to him)
BAWTRY: (raises her) Not there! Up to my heart, resemblance of thy murdered mother, let me enfold thee to my bosom, and indulge in the only happiness this weary heart has known for years.
(Tom Heywood appears and listens at half-open door)
BESSY: My dear, dear father!
TOM: Her father! Then it is he – the man whom I have feared through life.
BESSY: Dear father, how you must have suffered – unjustly accused, persecuted – an exile from your home.
BAWTRY: My sufferings have indeed been great, and unmerited, but the hour of retribution will yet arrive, and my innocence will be manifested.
BESSY: Should your return be known, are you not in danger?
BAWTRY: No, I have a conditional pardon permitting me to return to England, thus affording me an opportunity of proving my innocence. I have thriven in Australia – gold seemed to rise up before me wherever my footsteps strayed – at first I spurned the yellow idol, but the thought that it might aid me to establish my innocence, induced me to accumulate and hoard it. I have returned rich beyond my wildest dreams! And Heaven must have directed me since I have returned to find a child to inherit the wealth for which I toiled.
BESSY: Ah, how happy! How very happy we shall be! Let me run and fetch my aunt, and Edward too. I am anxious for others to partake in my happiness, to congratulate me in having found a parent.
BAWTRY: Ah, yes – but I must have other proofs for them – my pardon (searches wallet) It is gone!
(Tom Heywood holds up the pardon in triumph – exits)
BESSY: Father!
BAWTRY: Ah, I recollect, the villains who waylaid me, they must possess it. My child, I shall not be absent long. I must recover that document! I will return in half-an-hour. (hurries out)
Scene Fourth
(Enter Tom Heywood)
TOM: Curses on him! – I have learnt all! It is the man whom I have followed with my hate, the man who suffered for my crime. John Bawtry returned from penal servitude to denounce me, and yield me up to justice! – but can I not turn the tables upon him? I hold possession of his coveted pardon – without it he is still a proscribed felon. He has returned the possessor of wealth, his daughter will inherit it; if I can secure the fortune it will be worth more to me than revenge.
(Enter Bessy. Heywood conceals himself)
BESSY: I feel that I have come on a foolish errand – it could not have been my father who sent the message to meet at the old mill; I was wrong to come, for it is a lonely spot at this late hour.
TOM: (comes forward) Good evening, my dear. I see you have obeyed my summons.
BESSY: Your summons? Was it you who lured me here?
TOM: It was. We are alone – quite alone, girl; now listen to me. I was a witness to the meeting between you and John Bawtry. He told you that he was your father; but he did not tell you that he was an escaped convict, a convicted murderer. If I choose I could give him up to justice, but for your sake I will be silent, will save him from the punishment that awaits him, if you will consent to be mine.
BESSY: Yours! What does this mean?
TOM: I would possess you – make you my wife! Become mine and your father’s secret is safe; refuse me and I appear against him.
BESSY: Coward! I read your motive – you would play upon the feelings of a child, by placing her father’s peril before her eyes to secure your wicked ends. Wretch, let me pass!
TOM: By fair means or foul you shall be mine. Behold this document. (shows pardon) It is your father’s pardon; refuse to comply with my demand and I will destroy it in your sight, and then a word of mine can yield him up to justice.
BESSY: Monster!
TOM: Will you be mine?
BESSY: Never!
TOM: Force then shall make you. (seizes Bessy, who secures his pistol in the struggle)
BESSY: Coward and robber! Now we are on equal terms! Yield up my father’s pardon or I lay you dead at my feet.
TOM: Girl, listen to me!
BESSY: My finger is on the trigger. One moment and I fire!
TOM: There then! (throws down the pardon, Bessy places a foot upon it)
BESSY: Now, ruffian, back! Dare not attempt to follow me! Dare not, as you value your wretched life! (Bessy snatches the pardon and escapes)
TOM: Confusion on the jade! She must cross the foot-bridge to reach the village, by a near way I may still intercept her.
Scene Fifth
(Bessy enters, breathless)
BESSY: My strength will fail me ere I can reach the village. I almost sink with terror!
(Enter Toby and Tom Heywood, who seizes Bessy)
BESSY: Help! Help!
TOM: Wretched girl, your cries are useless, you are once more in my power.
(Bessy wrenches free)
TOM: Fool! But you delay your fate! Consent to be mine or I will lay you dead at my feet!
BESSY: Never! Help! Help!
TOM: Peace, or I will silence you!
(Heywood pushes Bessy into the mill stream.)
BAWTRY: Monster! You have destroyed my child!
(Bawtry pulls Bessy from the water)
BAWTRY: Thank heaven, she is saved!
TOM: John Bawtry, resign that girl to me.
BAWTRY: Villain! – back! With my last convulsive struggle I will oppose thee. Fly Bessy, – fly to the village and summon aid.
(Bessie runs off; Heywood and Toby attack Bawtry, stabbing him; he falls, bleeding)
TOM: Now then – throw the body into the mill stream! Hark! – footsteps! (they hide)
(Enter Middleton)
MIDDLETON: So, I have completed all the arrangements for tomorrow and now to return and spend the evening with Bessy. (sees pocket book) What is this? – a pocket book? (picks it up) Some one has dropped it; I will take care of it, and possibly I may find its owner. (exits)
TOBY: The bloke’s collared the note holder.
TOM: So much the better. It belongs to John Bawtry. Accuse him of the crime; – the pocket book found on him will be sufficient proof. I must not be seen in it, or the girl will recognize me. I’ll await your coming in the wood. Only divert suspicion from ourselves till we get clear of this part of the country. (Tom exits, Toby remains)
(Enter Middleton, Bessy, Villagers, Justice, Constable)
JUSTICE: Murder has been committed. Bessy Stott has spread the alarm through the village. A stranger has been attacked near the old mill.
TOBY: You will arrive too late. The assassin has thrown his victim’s body into the mill stream. I saw the deed perpetrated. Secure the murderer!
JUSTICE: Where is he?
TOBY: There he stands. (points to Middleton)
MIDDLETON: Who dares accuse me?
TOBY: I dare, my Trojan! Search him, and you’ll find the murdered man’s pocket book in his possession, filled with bank notes.
MIDDLETON: I have, indeed, a pocket book which I picked up in the road.
TOBY: That’s what all the thieves say when they are found out – “They picked it up”; but I saw you with my own blessed heyes.
JUSTICE: This charge against you, Mr. Edward Middleton, is most extraordinary; but this person swears upon oath that he saw you commit the crime of which you are accused.
BESSY: No, no, it is a vile falsehood, framed by the wretch who would have murdered me. I left the unfortunate victim struggling with his assailants; and this man (points to Toby), is one of the villains.
TOBY: Vell I never! Accuse a ’spectable chap like me!
JUSTICE: A counter charge! – this affair must be properly investigated. Search for the body of the murdered man; in the mean time I shall detain the witnesses in custody.
(Enter Tom Heywood)
TOM: Toby has followed my instructions; the fool in his anxiety to betray others, will only ensnare himself. So much the better. I am tired of his companionship; it will be safer for me to fly from this place alone. What feeling is this comes over me? The same sensations I experienced on the night I was lost in the snow drift. (music, tremulendo) My very life-blood is chilled, and my limbs seem rooted to the spot. Great heaven! What form is that issuing like a spectre from among the trees? It is the spirit of the murdered man comes to accuse me.
(Enter Bawtry, pale and bleeding)
TOM: Mercy, mercy! Save me from him.
BAWTRY: Murderer, assassin, thy hour has come! (seizes him by the throat) It is the grasp of death that holds thee, the life-blood of the victim flows apace, and dyes thy murderous hand; but heaven will nerve my arm to drag thee to thy doom. Come! The spirit of the murdered Lizzie Leigh hovers o’er my head, and cries for vengeance. The scaffold now awaits thee. Thy deserved punishment! Secure him!
ALL: John Bawtry! (Bawtry sinks, exhausted)
TOM: I confess the crime! Also the murder of Farmer Adlington, sixteen years ago, for which Bawtry unjustly suffered. There is my accomplice. (dies)
JUSTICE: Remove that villain. (Toby is taken off by Constable)
BESSY: My father – you are dying?
BAWTRY: My child – the image of thy murdered mother! – the brand is removed from my name – your father dies freed from ignominy – he leaves not to the child of Lizzie Leigh the inheritance of crime and infamy. (dies in Bessy’s arms – slow music)
