[Then to himself.

This is my virtuous, grateful Isidore!

[Then mimicking ISIDORE'S manner and voice.

'A common trick of gratitude, my lord!' 85 Old Gratitude! a dagger would dissect His 'own full heart'—'twere good to see its colour.

Valdez. These magic sights! O that I ne'er had yielded To your entreaties! Neither had I yielded, But that in spite of your own seeming faith 90 I held it for some innocent stratagem, Which love had prompted, to remove the doubts Of wild Teresa—by fancies quelling fancies!

Ordonio. Love! love! and then we hate! and what? and wherefore? Hatred and love! fancies opposed by fancies! 95 What? if one reptile sting another reptile? Where is the crime? The goodly face of nature Hath one disfeaturing stain the less upon it. Are we not all predestined transiency, And cold dishonour? Grant it, that this hand 100 Had given a morsel to the hungry worms Somewhat too early—Where's the crime of this? That this must needs bring on the idiotcy Of moist-eyed penitence—'tis like a dream!

Valdez. Wild talk, my son! But thy excess of feeling—— 105 Almost I fear it hath unhinged his brain.

Ordonio (Teresa reappears and advances slowly). Say, I had laid a body in the sun! Well! in a month there swarm forth from the corse A thousand, nay, ten thousand sentient beings In place of that one man.—Say, I had kill'd him! 110

[TERESA stops listening.

Yet who shall tell me, that each one and all Of these ten thousand lives is not as happy, As that one life, which being push'd aside, Made room for these unnumbered——

Valdez. O mere madness!

[TERESA moves hastily forwards, and places herself directly before ORDONIO.

Ordonio. Teresa? or the phantom of Teresa? 115

Teresa. Alas! the phantom only, if in truth The substance of her being, her life's life, Have ta'en its flight through Alvar's death-wound—

[A pause.

Where— (Even coward murder grants the dead a grave) O tell me, Valdez!—answer me, Ordonio! 120 Where lies the corse of my betrothd husband?

Ordonio. There, where Ordonio likewise would fain lie! In the sleep-compelling earth, in unpierc'd darkness![856:1] For while we live— An inward day that never, never sets, 125 Glares round the soul, and mocks the closing eyelids!

Over his rocky grave the fir-grove sighs A lulling ceaseless dirge! 'Tis well with him.

[Strides off towards the altar, but returns as VALDEZ is speaking.

Teresa. The rock! the fir-grove! [To VALDEZ. Did'st thou hear him say it? Hush! I will ask him!

Valdez. Urge him not—not now! 130 This we beheld. Nor he nor I know more, Than what the magic imagery revealed. The assassin, who pressed foremost of the three——

Ordonio. A tender-hearted, scrupulous, grateful villain, Whom I will strangle!

Valdez. While his two companions—— 135

Ordonio. Dead! dead already! what care we for the dead?

Valdez (to Teresa). Pity him! soothe him! disenchant his spirit! These supernatural shews, this strange disclosure, And this too fond affection, which still broods O'er Alvar's fate, and still burns to avenge it— 140 These, struggling with his hopeless love for you, Distemper him, and give reality To the creatures of his fancy.

Ordonio. Is it so? Yes! yes! even like a child, that too abruptly Roused by a glare of light from deepest sleep 145 Starts up bewildered and talks idly. Father! What if the Moors that made my brother's grave, Even now were digging ours? What if the bolt, Though aim'd, I doubt not, at the son of Valdez, Yet miss'd its true aim when it fell on Alvar? 150

Valdez. Alvar ne'er fought against the Moors,—say rather, He was their advocate; but you had march'd With fire and desolation through their villages.— Yet he by chance was captured.

Ordonio. Unknown, perhaps, Captured, yet as the son of Valdez, murdered. 155 Leave all to me. Nay, whither, gentle lady?

Valdez. What seek you now?

Teresa. A better, surer light To guide me——

Both Valdez and Ordonio. Whither?

Teresa. To the only place Where life yet dwells for me, and ease of heart. These walls seem threatening to fall in upon me! 160 Detain me not! a dim power drives me hence, And that will be my guide.

Valdez. To find a lover! Suits that a high-born maiden's modesty? O folly and shame! Tempt not my rage, Teresa!

Teresa. Hopeless, I fear no human being's rage. 165 And am I hastening to the arms——O Heaven! I haste but to the grave of my belov'd!

[Exit, VALDEZ following after her.

Ordonio. This, then, is my reward! and I must love her? Scorn'd! shudder'd at! yet love her still? yes! yes! By the deep feelings of revenge and hate 170 I will still love her—woo her—win her too! [A pause. Isidore safe and silent, and the portrait Found on the wizard—he, belike, self-poison'd To escape the crueller flames——My soul shouts triumph! The mine is undermined! blood! blood! blood! 175 They thirst for thy blood! thy blood, Ordonio! [A pause. The hunt is up! and in the midnight wood With lights to dazzle and with nets they seek A timid prey: and lo! the tiger's eye Glares in the red flame of his hunter's torch! 180

To Isidore I will dispatch a message, And lure him to the cavern! aye, that cavern! He cannot fail to find it. Thither I'll lure him, Whence he shall never, never more return!

[Looks through the side window.

A rim of the sun lies yet upon the sea, 185 And now 'tis gone! All shall be done to-night. [Exit.

FOOTNOTES:

[853:1] 45-6. Compare The Death of Wallenstein, Act I, Sc. IV, ll. 48-9. See note by J. D. Campbell, P. W., 1893, p. 650.

[856:1] It was pleasing to observe, during the Rehearsal all the Actors and Actresses and even the Mechanics on the stage clustering round while these lines were repeating just as if it had been a favourite strain of Music. But from want of depth and volume of voice in Rae, they did not produce an equal effect on the Public till after the Publication—and then they (I understand) were applauded. I have never seen the Piece since the first Night. S. T. C.

LINENOTES:

SCENE II] SCENE III. Interior of a Chapel. Edition 1.

[20] would he] wouldst thou Edition 1.

[22] Teresa (wildly). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829. Valdez (with averted countenance). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[24] A worse sorrow] And how painful Edition 1.

[41]

Was Alvar lost to thee— [Turning off, aloud, but yet as to himself.

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[44] Teresa (with faint shriek). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829. my] my Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[45] He grasp'd it in his death-pang! Edition 1. did] did Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[49] Is] Is Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[52] Thou] Thou Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 55] Stage-direction om. Edition 1.

[67] Ordonio (confused). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[73] Valdez (confused). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 83] [Turns off abruptly; then to himself. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[84] grateful] grateful Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[94] Ordonio (in a slow voice, as reasoning to himself). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[101] Had] Had Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 105] [Averting himself. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[107] Ordonio (now in soliloquy, and now addressing his father; and just after the speech has commenced, Teresa, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[110] kill'd] kill'd Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 110] [TERESA starts and stops listening. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[Before 115] Ordonio (checking the feeling of surprise, and forcing his tones into an expression of playful courtesy). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[124] live] LIVE Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[128] him] HIM Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 128] [Strides off in agitation towards the altar, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[129] Teresa (recoiling with the expression appropriate to the passion). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829. thou] thou Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[131] beheld . . . he] beheld . . . He Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[134] grateful] grateful Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[135] Valdez (looking with anxious disquiet at his Son, yet attempting to proceed with his description). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[146]

Starts up bewildered and talks idly. [Then mysteriously.

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[158] Both. Whither Edition 1.

[168] must] must Editions 1, 2, 3.

[171] win] win Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[176] thy] thy Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 186] end of the Third Act. Editions 1, 2, 3.



ACT IV

SCENE I

A cavern, dark, except where a gleam of moonlight is seen on one side at the further end of it; supposed to be cast on it from a crevice in a part of the cavern out of sight. ISIDORE alone, an extinguished torch in his hand.

Isidore. Faith 'twas a moving letter—very moving! 'His life in danger, no place safe but this! 'Twas his turn now to talk of gratitude.' And yet—but no! there can't be such a villain. It can not be! Thanks to that little crevice, 5 Which lets the moonlight in! I'll go and sit by it. To peep at a tree, or see a he-goat's beard, Or hear a cow or two breathe loud in their sleep— Any thing but this crash of water drops! These dull abortive sounds that fret the silence 10 With puny thwartings and mock opposition! So beats the death-watch to a sick man's ear.

[He goes out of sight, opposite to the patch of moonlight: and returns.

A hellish pit! The very same I dreamt of! I was just in—and those damn'd fingers of ice Which clutch'd my hair up! Ha!—what's that—it mov'd. 15

[ISIDORE stands staring at another recess in the cavern. In the mean time ORDONIO enters with a torch, and halloes to ISIDORE.

Isidore. I swear that I saw something moving there! The moonshine came and went like a flash of lightning—— I swear, I saw it move.

Ordonio (goes into the recess, then returns). A jutting clay stone Drops on the long lank weed, that grows beneath: And the weed nods and drips.[859:1]

Isidore. A jest to laugh at! 20 It was not that which scar'd me, good my lord.

Ordonio. What scar'd you, then?

Isidore. You see that little rift? But first permit me!

[Lights his torch at ORDONIO'S, and while lighting it.

(A lighted torch in the hand Is no unpleasant object here—one's breath Floats round the flame, and makes as many colours 25 As the thin clouds that travel near the moon.) You see that crevice there? My torch extinguished by these water-drops, And marking that the moonlight came from thence, I stept in to it, meaning to sit there; 30 But scarcely had I measured twenty paces— My body bending forward, yea, o'erbalanced Almost beyond recoil, on the dim brink Of a huge chasm I stept. The shadowy moonshine Filling the void so counterfeited substance, 35 That my foot hung aslant adown the edge. Was it my own fear? Fear too hath its instincts![860:1] (And yet such dens as these are wildly told of, And there are beings that live, yet not for the eye) An arm of frost above and from behind me 40 Pluck'd up and snatched me backward. Merciful Heaven! You smile! alas, even smiles look ghastly here! My lord, I pray you, go yourself and view it.

Ordonio. It must have shot some pleasant feelings through you.

Isidore. If every atom of a dead man's flesh 45 Should creep, each one with a particular life, Yet all as cold as ever—'twas just so! Or had it drizzled needle-points of frost Upon a feverish head made suddenly bald—

Ordonio. Why, Isidore, I blush for thy cowardice. It might have startled, 50 I grant you, even a brave man for a moment— But such a panic—

Isidore. When a boy, my lord! I could have sate whole hours beside that chasm, Push'd in huge stones and heard them strike and rattle Against its horrid sides: then hung my head 55 Low down, and listened till the heavy fragments Sank with faint crash in that still groaning well, Which never thirsty pilgrim blest, which never A living thing came near—unless, perchance, Some blind-worm battens on the ropy mould 60 Close at its edge.

Ordonio. Art thou more coward now?

Isidore. Call him, that fears his fellow-man, a coward! I fear not man—but this inhuman cavern, It were too bad a prison-house for goblins. Beside, (you'll smile, my lord) but true it is, 65 My last night's sleep was very sorely haunted By what had passed between us in the morning. O sleep of horrors! Now run down and stared at By forms so hideous that they mock remembrance— Now seeing nothing and imagining nothing, 70 But only being afraid—stifled with fear! While every goodly or familiar form Had a strange power of breathing terror round me![861:1] I saw you in a thousand fearful shapes; And, I entreat your lordship to believe me, 75 In my last dream——

Ordonio. Well?

Isidore. I was in the act Of falling down that chasm, when Alhadra Wak'd me: she heard my heart beat.

Ordonio. Strange enough! Had you been here before?

Isidore. Never, my lord! But mine eyes do not see it now more clearly, 80 Than in my dream I saw—that very chasm.

Ordonio (after a pause). I know not why it should be! yet it is—

Isidore. What is, my lord?

Ordonio. Abhorrent from our nature To kill a man.—

Isidore. Except in self-defence.

Ordonio. Why that's my case; and yet the soul recoils from it— 85 'Tis so with me at least. But you, perhaps, Have sterner feelings?

Isidore. Something troubles you. How shall I serve you? By the life you gave me, By all that makes that life of value to me, My wife, my babes, my honour, I swear to you, 90 Name it, and I will toil to do the thing, If it be innocent! But this, my lord! Is not a place where you could perpetrate, No, nor propose a wicked thing. The darkness, When ten strides off we know 'tis cheerful moonlight, 95 Collects the guilt, and crowds it round the heart. It must be innocent.

Ordonio. Thyself be judge. One of our family knew this place well.

Isidore. Who? when? my lord?

Ordonio. What boots it, who or when? Hang up thy torch—I'll tell his tale to thee. 100

[They hang up their torches on some ridge in the cavern.

He was a man different from other men, And he despised them, yet revered himself.

Isidore (aside). He? He despised? Thou'rt speaking of thyself! I am on my guard, however: no surprise. [Then to ORDONIO. What, he was mad?

Ordonio. All men seemed mad to him! 105 Nature had made him for some other planet, And pressed his soul into a human shape By accident or malice. In this world He found no fit companion.

Isidore. Of himself he speaks. [Aside. Alas! poor wretch! 110 Mad men are mostly proud.

Ordonio. He walked alone, And phantom thoughts unsought-for troubled him. Something within would still be shadowing out All possibilities; and with these shadows His mind held dalliance. Once, as so it happened, 115 A fancy crossed him wilder than the rest: To this in moody murmur and low voice He yielded utterance, as some talk in sleep: The man who heard him.— Why did'st thou look round?

Isidore. I have a prattler three years old, my lord! 120 In truth he is my darling. As I went From forth my door, he made a moan in sleep— But I am talking idly—pray proceed! And what did this man?

Ordonio. With this human hand He gave a substance and reality 125 To that wild fancy of a possible thing.— Well it was done! Why babblest thou of guilt? The deed was done, and it passed fairly off. And he whose tale I tell thee—dost thou listen?

Isidore. I would, my lord, you were by my fire-side, 130 I'd listen to you with an eager eye, Though you began this cloudy tale at midnight, But I do listen—pray proceed, my lord.

Ordonio. Where was I?

Isidore. He of whom you tell the tale—

Ordonio. Surveying all things with a quiet scorn, 135 Tamed himself down to living purposes, The occupations and the semblances Of ordinary men—and such he seemed! But that same over ready agent—he—

Isidore. Ah! what of him, my lord?

Ordonio. He proved a traitor, 140 Betrayed the mystery to a brother-traitor, And they between them hatch'd a damnd plot To hunt him down to infamy and death. What did the Valdez? I am proud of the name Since he dared do it.—

[ORDONIO grasps his sword, and turns off from ISIDORE, then after a pause returns.

Our links burn dimly. 145

Isidore. A dark tale darkly finished! Nay, my lord! Tell what he did.

Ordonio. That which his wisdom prompted— He made the traitor meet him in this cavern, And here he kill'd the traitor.

Isidore. No! the fool! 150 He had not wit enough to be a traitor. Poor thick-eyed beetle! not to have foreseen That he who gulled thee with a whimpered lie To murder his own brother, would not scruple To murder thee, if e'er his guilt grew jealous, 155 And he could steal upon thee in the dark!

Ordonio. Thou would'st not then have come, if—

Isidore. Oh yes, my lord! I would have met him arm'd, and scar'd the coward.

[ISIDORE throws off his robe; shews himself armed, and draws his sword.

Ordonio. Now this is excellent and warms the blood! 160 My heart was drawing back, drawing me back With weak and womanish scruples. Now my vengeance Beckons me onwards with a warrior's mien, And claims that life, my pity robb'd her of— Now will I kill thee, thankless slave, and count it 165 Among my comfortable thoughts hereafter.

Isidore. And all my little ones fatherless— Die thou first.

[They fight, ORDONIO disarms ISIDORE, and in disarming him throws his sword up that recess opposite to which they were standing. ISIDORE hurries into the recess with his torch, ORDONIO follows him; a loud cry of 'Traitor! Monster!' is heard from the cavern, and in a moment ORDONIO returns alone.

Ordonio. I have hurl'd him down the chasm! treason for treason. He dreamt of it: henceforward let him sleep, A dreamless sleep, from which no wife can wake him. 170 His dream too is made out—Now for his friend.

[Exit ORDONIO.

FOOTNOTES:

[859:1] 18-20. Compare This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison, ll. 17-20, p. 179. See note by J. D. Campbell, P. W., 1893, p. 651.

[860:1] 38-9. These two lines uttered in an under-voice, and timidly, as anticipating Ordonio's sneer, and yet not able to disguise his own superstition. (Marginal Note to First Edition.)

What trouble had I not, and at last almost fruitless, to teach De Camp the hurried under-voice with which Isidore should utter these two lines, as anticipating Ordonio's scorn, and yet unable to suppress his own superstition—and yet De Camp, spite of voice, person, and inappropriate protrusion of the chest, understood and realised his part better than all the rest—to the man of sense, I mean. MS. H.

[861:1] 72-3. In the Biographia Literaria, 1817, ii. 73 Coleridge puts these lines into another shape:—

The simplest and the most familiar things Gain a strange power of spreading awe around them.

See note by J. D. Campbell, P. W., 1893, p. 651.

LINENOTES:

[After 12] [He goes . . . moonlight: returns after a minute's elapse, in an extasy of fear. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[13] pit] pit Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[18] Ordonio (goes . . . returns, and with great scorn). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[20] Isidore (forcing a laugh faintly.) Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[47] ever] eve Edition 1.

[49] Ordonio (interrupting him). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[51] brave] brave Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[60] battens] fattens Edition 1.

[68-73] om. Edition 1.

[71] afraid] afraid Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[82] Ordonio (stands lost in thought, then after a pause). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829. is] is Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[97]

It must be innocent. [ORDONIO darkly, and in the feeling of self-justification, tells what he conceives of his own character and actions, speaking of himself in the third person.

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[103] He? He] He? He Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[124] this] his Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[127]

Well it was done! [Then very wildly.

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[140] him . . . He] him . . . He, Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[155] thee] thee Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 167] [They fight . . . standing. (The rest of the stage-direction is here omitted.)

Isid. (springing wildly towards Ordonio). Still I can strangle thee!

Ord. Nay fool, stand off! I'll kill thee, but not so. Go fetch thy sword.

[ISIDORE hurries into the recess with his torch, ORDONIO follows him . . . returns alone.

Edition 1.

[169] dreamt] dreamt Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[171] dream] dream Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

SCENE II

The interior Court of a Saracenic or Gothic Castle, with the Iron Gate of a Dungeon visible.

Teresa. Heart-chilling superstition! thou canst glaze Ev'n pity's eye with her own frozen tear. In vain I urge the tortures that await him; Even Selma, reverend guardian of my childhood, My second mother, shuts her heart against me! 5 Well, I have won from her what most imports The present need, this secret of the dungeon Known only to herself.—A Moor! a Sorcerer! No, I have faith, that Nature ne'er permitted Baseness to wear a form so noble. True, 10 I doubt not that Ordonio had suborned him To act some part in some unholy fraud; As little doubt, that for some unknown purpose He hath baffled his suborner, terror-struck him, And that Ordonio meditates revenge! 15 But my resolve is fixed! myself will rescue him, And learn if haply he knew aught of Alvar.

Enter VALDEZ.

Valdez. Still sad?—and gazing at the massive door Of that fell dungeon which thou ne'er had'st sight of, Save what, perchance, thy infant fancy shap'd it 20 When the nurse still'd thy cries with unmeant threats. Now by my faith, girl! this same wizard haunts thee! A stately man, and eloquent and tender— Who then need wonder if a lady sighs Even at the thought of what these stern Dominicans— 25

Teresa. The horror of their ghastly punishments Doth so o'ertop the height of all compassion, That I should feel too little for mine enemy, If it were possible I could feel more, Even though the dearest inmates of our household 30 Were doom'd to suffer them. That such things are—

Valdez. Hush, thoughtless woman!

Teresa. Nay, it wakes within me More than a woman's spirit.

Valdez. No more of this— What if Monviedro or his creatures hear us! I dare not listen to you.

Teresa. My honoured lord, 35 These were my Alvar's lessons, and whene'er I bend me o'er his portrait, I repeat them, As if to give a voice to the mute image.

Valdez. ——We have mourned for Alvar. Of his sad fate there now remains no doubt. 40 Have I no other son?

Teresa. Speak not of him! That low imposture! That mysterious picture! If this be madness, must I wed a madman? And if not madness, there is mystery, And guilt doth lurk behind it.

Valdez. Is this well? 45

Teresa. Yes, it is truth: saw you his countenance? How rage, remorse, and scorn, and stupid fear Displaced each other with swift interchanges? O that I had indeed the sorcerer's power.—— I would call up before thine eyes the image 50 Of my betrothed Alvar, of thy first-born![866:1] His own fair countenance, his kingly forehead, His tender smiles, love's day-dawn on his lips! That spiritual and almost heavenly light In his commanding eye—his mien heroic, 55 Virtue's own native heraldry! to man Genial, and pleasant to his guardian angel. Whene'er he gladden'd, how the gladness spread Wide round him! and when oft with swelling tears, Flash'd through by indignation, he bewail'd 60 The wrongs of Belgium's martyr'd patriots, Oh, what a grief was there—for joy to envy, Or gaze upon enamour'd! O my father! Recall that morning when we knelt together, And thou didst bless our loves! O even now, 65 Even now, my sire! to thy mind's eye present him, As at that moment he rose up before thee, Stately, with beaming look! Place, place beside him Ordonio's dark perturbd countenance! Then bid me (Oh thou could'st not) bid me turn 70 From him, the joy, the triumph of our kind! To take in exchange that brooding man, who never Lifts up his eye from the earth, unless to scowl.

Valdez. Ungrateful woman! I have tried to stifle An old man's passion! was it not enough, 75 That thou hast made my son a restless man, Banish'd his health, and half unhing'd his reason; But that thou wilt insult him with suspicion? And toil to blast his honour? I am old, A comfortless old man!

Teresa. O grief! to hear 80 Hateful entreaties from a voice we love!

Enter a Peasant and presents a letter to VALDEZ.

Valdez (reading it). 'He dares not venture hither!' Why, what can this mean? 'Lest the Familiars of the Inquisition, That watch around my gates, should intercept him; But he conjures me, that without delay 85 I hasten to him—for my own sake entreats me To guard from danger him I hold imprison'd— He will reveal a secret, the joy of which Will even outweigh the sorrow.'—Why what can this be? Perchance it is some Moorish stratagem, 90 To have in me a hostage for his safety. Nay, that they dare not! Ho! collect my servants! I will go thither—let them arm themselves. [Exit VALDEZ.

Teresa (alone). The moon is high in heaven, and all is hush'd. Yet anxious listener! I have seem'd to hear 95 A low dead thunder mutter thro' the night, As 'twere a giant angry in his sleep. O Alvar! Alvar! that they could return, Those blessed days that imitated heaven, When we two wont to walk at eventide; 100 When we saw nought but beauty; when we heard The voice of that Almighty One who loved us In every gale that breathed, and wave that murmur'd! O we have listen'd, even till high-wrought pleasure Hath half assumed the countenance of grief, 105 And the deep sigh seemed to heave up a weight Of bliss, that pressed too heavy on the heart. [A pause. And this majestic Moor, seems he not one Who oft and long communing with my Alvar Hath drunk in kindred lustre from his presence, 110 And guides me to him with reflected light? What if in yon dark dungeon coward treachery Be groping for him with envenomed poniard— Hence, womanish fears, traitors to love and duty— I'll free him. [Exit TERESA.

FOOTNOTES:

[866:1] 52-63. Compare Fragment No. 39, p. 1005.

LINENOTES:

[Before 1] stage-direction om. Scene II is headed 'The Sea-Coast' Edition 1. The interior . . . of Dungeon visible. Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[17] know] knew Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[18] Valdez. Still sad, Teresa! This same wizard haunts you Edition 1.

[19-22] om. Edition 1.

[After 23] [With a sneer. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[26] Teresa (with solemn indignation). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[33] woman's] woman Edition 1.

[62] there Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[80, 81] Teresa. O Grief . . . we love! om. Edition 1.

SCENE III

The mountains by moonlight. ALHADRA alone in a Moorish dress.

Alhadra. Yon hanging woods, that touch'd by autumn seem As they were blossoming hues of fire and gold The flower-like woods, most lovely in decay, The many clouds, the sea, the rock, the sands. Lie in the silent moonshine: and the owl, 5 (Strange! very strange!) the screech-owl only wakes! Sole voice, sole eye of all this world of beauty! Unless, perhaps, she sing her screeching song To a herd of wolves, that skulk athirst for blood. Why such a thing am I?—Where are these men? 10 I need the sympathy of human faces, To beat away this deep contempt for all things, Which quenches my revenge. O! would to Alla, The raven, or the sea-mew, were appointed To bring me food! or rather that my soul 15 Could drink in life from the universal air! It were a lot divine in some small skiff Along some Ocean's boundless solitude, To float for ever with a careless course. And think myself the only being alive! 20

My children!—Isidore's children!—Son of Valdez, This hath new strung mine arm. Thou coward tyrant! To stupify a woman's heart with anguish Till she forgot—even that she was a mother!

[She fixes her eye on the earth. Then drop in one after another, from different parts of the stage, a considerable number of Morescoes, all in Moorish garments and Moorish armour. They form a circle at a distance round ALHADRA, and remain silent till NAOMI enters.

Naomi. Woman! May Alla and the Prophet bless thee! 25 We have obeyed thy call. Where is our chief? And why didst thou enjoin these Moorish garments?

Alhadra (raising her eyes, and looking round on the circle). Warriors of Mahomet! faithful in the battle! My countrymen! Come ye prepared to work An honourable deed? And would ye work it 30 In the slave's garb? Curse on those Christian robes! They are spell-blasted: and whoever wears them, His arm shrinks wither'd, his heart melts away, And his bones soften.

Naomi. Where is Isidore?

Alhadra. This night I went from forth my house, and left 35 His children all asleep: and he was living! And I return'd and found them still asleep, But he had perished——

All Morescoes. Perished?

Alhadra. He had perished! Sleep on, poor babes! not one of you doth know That he is fatherless—a desolate orphan! 40 Why should we wake them? Can an infant's arm Revenge his murder?

One Moresco (to another). Did she say his murder?

Naomi. Murder? Not murdered?

Alhadra. Murdered by a Christian!

[They all at once draw their sabres.

Alhadra (to Naomi, who advances from the circle). Brother of Zagri! fling away thy sword; This is thy chieftain's! [He steps forward to take it. Dost thou dare receive it? 45 For I have sworn by Alla and the Prophet, No tear shall dim these eyes, this woman's heart Shall heave no groan, till I have seen that sword Wet with the life-blood of the son of Valdez! [A pause. Ordonio was your chieftain's murderer! 50

Naomi. He dies, by Alla!

All (kneeling). By Alla!

Alhadra. This night your chieftain armed himself, And hurried from me. But I followed him At distance, till I saw him enter—there!

Naomi. The cavern?

Alhadra. Yes, the mouth of yonder cavern 55 After a while I saw the son of Valdez Rush by with flaring torch; he likewise entered. There was another and a longer pause; And once, methought I heard the clash of swords! And soon the son of Valdez re-appeared: 60 He flung his torch towards the moon in sport, And seemed as he were mirthful! I stood listening, Impatient for the footsteps of my husband!

Naomi. Thou called'st him?

Alhadra. I crept into the cavern— 'Twas dark and very silent. What said'st thou? 65 No! no! I did not dare call, Isidore, Lest I should hear no answer! A brief while, Belike, I lost all thought and memory Of that for which I came! After that pause, O Heaven! I heard a groan, and followed it: 70 And yet another groan, which guided me Into a strange recess—and there was light, A hideous light! his torch lay on the ground; Its flame burnt dimly o'er a chasm's brink: I spake; and whilst I spake, a feeble groan 75 Came from that chasm! it was his last! his death-groan!

Naomi. Comfort her, Alla!

Alhadra. I stood in unimaginable trance And agony that cannot be remembered, Listening with horrid hope to hear a groan! 80 But I had heard his last: my husband's death-groan!

Naomi. Haste! let us onward.

Alhadra. I looked far down the pit— My sight was bounded by a jutting fragment: And it was stained with blood. Then first I shrieked, My eye-balls burnt, my brain grew hot as fire, 85 And all the hanging drops of the wet roof Turned into blood—I saw them turn to blood! And I was leaping wildly down the chasm, When on the farther brink I saw his sword, And it said, Vengeance!—Curses on my tongue! 90 The moon hath moved in Heaven, and I am here, And he hath not had vengeance! Isidore! Spirit of Isidore! thy murderer lives! Away! away!

All. Away! away!

[She rushes off, all following her.

LINENOTES:

[1-24] om. Edition 1.

[Before 25]

The mountains by moonlight. ALHADRA alone in a Moorish dress; her eye fixed on the earth. Then drop in one after another, from different parts of the stage, a considerable number of Morescoes, all in Moorish garments. They form a circle at a distance round ALHADRA.

A Moresco, NAOMI, advances from out the circle.

Naomi. Woman! may Alla, &c.

Edition 1.

Stage-direction after 24 [She fixes . . . and remain silent till the Second in Command, NAOMI, enters, distinguished by his dress and armour, and by the silent obeisance paid to him on his entrance by the other Moors. Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[Before 28] Alhadra (lifting up eyes, and looking, &c.). Edition 1.

[35] Alhadra (in a deep low voice). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[54] there Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[65]

'Twas dark and very silent. [Then wildly.

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[72] light Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 77] All. Haste, let us seek the murderer. Edition 1.



ACT V

SCENE I

A Dungeon.

ALVAR (alone) rises slowly from a bed of reeds.

Alvar. And this place my forefathers made for man! This is the process of our love and wisdom To each poor brother who offends against us— Most innocent, perhaps—and what if guilty? Is this the only cure? Merciful God! 5 Each pore and natural outlet shrivelled up By ignorance and parching poverty, His energies roll back upon his heart, And stagnate and corrupt, till, chang'd to poison, They break out on him, like a loathsome plague-spot! 10 Then we call in our pampered mountebanks: And this is their best cure! uncomforted And friendless solitude, groaning and tears, And savage faces, at the clanking hour, Seen through the steam and vapours of his dungeon 15 By the lamp's dismal twilight! So he lies Circled with evil, till his very soul Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deformed By sights of evermore deformity! With other ministrations thou, O Nature! 20 Healest thy wandering and distempered child: Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets; Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters! Till he relent, and can no more endure 25 To be a jarring and a dissonant thing Amid this general dance and minstrelsy; But, bursting into tears, wins back his way, His angry spirit healed and harmonized By the benignant touch of love and beauty. 30

I am chill and weary! Yon rude bench of stone, In that dark angle, the sole resting-place! But the self-approving mind is its own light And life's best warmth still radiates from the heart Where love sits brooding, and an honest purpose. 35

[Retires out of sight.

Enter TERESA with a taper.

Teresa. It has chilled my very life——my own voice scares me; Yet when I hear it not I seem to lose The substance of my being—my strongest grasp Sends inwards but weak witness that I am. I seek to cheat the echo.—How the half sounds 40 Blend with this strangled light! Is he not here—

[Looking round.

O for one human face here—but to see One human face here to sustain me.—Courage! It is but my own fear! The life within me, It sinks and wavers like this cone of flame, 45 Beyond which I scarce dare look onward! Oh! If I faint? If this inhuman den should be At once my death-bed and my burial vault?

[Faintly screams as ALVAR emerges from the recess.

Alvar (rushes towards her, and catches her as she is falling). O gracious heaven! it is, it is Teresa! Shall I reveal myself? The sudden shock 50 Of rapture will blow out this spark of life, And joy complete what terror has begun. O ye impetuous beatings here, be still! Teresa, best beloved! pale, pale, and cold! Her pulse doth flutter! Teresa! my Teresa! 55

Teresa (recovering). I heard a voice; but often in my dreams I hear that voice! and wake and try—and try— To hear it waking! but I never could— And 'tis so now—even so! Well! he is dead— Murdered perhaps! and I am faint, and feel 60 As if it were no painful thing to die!

Alvar. Believe it not, sweet maid! Believe it not, Belovd woman! 'Twas a low imposture Framed by a guilty wretch.

Teresa. Ha! Who art thou?

Alvar. Suborned by his brother—

Teresa. Didst thou murder him? 65 And dost thou now repent? Poor troubled man, I do forgive thee, and may Heaven forgive thee!

Alvar. Ordonio—he—

Teresa. If thou didst murder him— His spirit ever at the throne of God Asks mercy for thee: prays for mercy for thee, 70 With tears in Heaven!

Alvar. Alvar was not murdered. Be calm! Be calm, sweet maid!

Teresa. Nay, nay, but tell me! [A pause. O 'tis lost again! This dull confusd pain— [A pause. Mysterious man! Methinks I can not fear thee: for thine eye 75 Doth swim with love and pity—Well! Ordonio— Oh my foreboding heart! And he suborned thee, And thou didst spare his life? Blessings shower on thee, As many as the drops twice counted o'er In the fond faithful heart of his Teresa! 80

Alvar. I can endure no more. The Moorish sorcerer Exists but in the stain upon his face. That picture—

Teresa. Ha! speak on!

Alvar. Beloved Teresa! It told but half the truth. O let this portrait Tell all—that Alvar lives—that he is here! 85 Thy much deceived but ever faithful Alvar.

[Takes her portrait from his neck, and gives it her.

Teresa (receiving the portrait). The same—it is the same! Ah! Who art thou? Nay, I will call thee, Alvar! [She falls on his neck.

Alvar. O joy unutterable! But hark! a sound as of removing bars At the dungeon's outer door. A brief, brief while 90 Conceal thyself, my love! It is Ordonio. For the honour of our race, for our dear father; O for himself too (he is still my brother) Let me recall him to his nobler nature, That he may wake as from a dream of murder! 95 O let me reconcile him to himself, Open the sacred source of penitent tears, And be once more his own beloved Alvar.

Teresa. O my all virtuous love! I fear to leave thee With that obdurate man.

Alvar. Thou dost not leave me! 100 But a brief while retire into the darkness: O that my joy could spread its sunshine round thee!

Teresa. The sound of thy voice shall be my music! Alvar! my Alvar! am I sure I hold thee? Is it no dream? thee in my arms, my Alvar! [Exit. 105

[A noise at the Dungeon door. It opens, and ORDONIO enters, with a goblet in his hand.

Ordonio. Hail, potent wizard! in my gayer mood I poured forth a libation to old Pluto, And as I brimmed the bowl, I thought on thee. Thou hast conspired against my life and honour, Hast tricked me foully; yet I hate thee not. 110 Why should I hate thee? this same world of ours, 'Tis but a pool amid a storm of rain, And we the air-bladders that course up and down, And joust and tilt in merry tournament; And when one bubble runs foul of another, 115 The weaker needs must break.

Alvar. I see thy heart! There is a frightful glitter in thine eye Which doth betray thee. Inly-tortured man, This is the revelry of a drunken anguish, Which fain would scoff away the pang of guilt, 120 And quell each human feeling.

Ordonio. Feeling! feeling! The death of a man—the breaking of a bubble— 'Tis true I cannot sob for such misfortunes; But faintness, cold and hunger—curses on me If willingly I e'er inflicted them! 125 Come, take the beverage; this chill place demands it.

[ORDONIO proffers the goblet.

Alvar. Yon insect on the wall, Which moves this way and that its hundred limbs, Were it a toy of mere mechanic craft, It were an infinitely curious thing! 130 But it has life, Ordonio! life, enjoyment! And by the power of its miraculous will Wields all the complex movements of its frame Unerringly to pleasurable ends! Saw I that insect on this goblet's brim 135 I would remove it with an anxious pity!

Ordonio. What meanest thou?

Alvar. There's poison in the wine.

Ordonio. Thou hast guessed right; there's poison in the wine. There's poison in't—which of us two shall drink it? For one of us must die!

Alvar. Whom dost thou think me? 140

Ordonio. The accomplice and sworn friend of Isidore.

Alvar. I know him not. And yet methinks, I have heard the name but lately. Means he the husband of the Moorish woman? Isidore? Isidore? 145

Ordonio. Good! good! that lie! by heaven it has restored me. Now I am thy master!—Villain! thou shalt drink it, Or die a bitterer death.

Alvar. What strange solution Hast thou found out to satisfy thy fears, And drug them to unnatural sleep?

[ALVAR takes the goblet, and throws it to the ground.

My master! 150

Ordonio. Thou mountebank!

Alvar. Mountebank and villain! What then art thou? For shame, put up thy sword! What boots a weapon in a withered arm? I fix mine eye upon thee, and thou tremblest! I speak, and fear and wonder crush thy rage, 155 And turn it to a motionless distraction! Thou blind self-worshipper! thy pride, thy cunning, Thy faith in universal villainy, Thy shallow sophisms, thy pretended scorn For all thy human brethren—out upon them! 160 What have they done for thee? have they given thee peace? Cured thee of starting in thy sleep? or made The darkness pleasant when thou wak'st at midnight? Art happy when alone? Can'st walk by thyself With even step and quiet cheerfulness? 165 Yet, yet thou may'st be saved——

Ordonio. Saved? saved?

Alvar. One pang! Could I call up one pang of true remorse!

Ordonio. He told me of the babes that prattled to him. His fatherless little ones! remorse! remorse! Where got'st thou that fool's word? Curse on remorse! 170 Can it give up the dead, or recompact A mangled body? mangled—dashed to atoms! Not all the blessings of a host of angels Can blow away a desolate widow's curse! And though thou spill thy heart's blood for atonement, 175 It will not weigh against an orphan's tear!

Alvar. But Alvar——

Ordonio. Ha! it chokes thee in the throat, Even thee; and yet I pray thee speak it out. Still Alvar!—Alvar!—howl it in mine ear! Heap it like coals of fire upon my heart, 180 And shoot it hissing through my brain!

Alvar. Alas! That day when thou didst leap from off the rock Into the waves, and grasped thy sinking brother, And bore him to the strand; then, son of Valdez, How sweet and musical the name of Alvar! 185 Then, then, Ordonio, he was dear to thee, And thou wert dear to him: heaven only knows How very dear thou wert! Why did'st thou hate him! O heaven! how he would fall upon thy neck, And weep forgiveness!

Ordonio. Spirit of the dead! 190 Methinks I know thee! ha! my brain turns wild At its own dreams!—off—off, fantastic shadow!

Alvar. I fain would tell thee what I am, but dare not!

Ordonio. Cheat! villain! traitor! whatsoever thou be— I fear thee, man!

Teresa (rushing out and falling on Alvar's neck). Ordonio! 'tis thy brother! 195

[ORDONIO runs upon ALVAR with his sword. TERESA flings herself on ORDONIO and arrests his arm.

Stop, madman, stop!

Alvar. Does then this thin disguise impenetrably Hide Alvar from thee? Toil and painful wounds And long imprisonment in unwholesome dungeons, Have marred perhaps all trait and lineament 200 Of what I was! But chiefly, chiefly, brother, My anguish for thy guilt! Ordonio—Brother! Nay, nay, thou shalt embrace me.

Ordonio (drawing back, and gazing at Alvar). Touch me not! Touch not pollution, Alvar! I will die.

[He attempts to fall on his sword, ALVAR and TERESA prevent him.

Alvar. We will find means to save your honour. Live, 205 Oh live, Ordonio! for our father's sake! Spare his grey hairs!

Teresa. And you may yet be happy.

Ordonio. O horror! not a thousand years in heaven Could recompose this miserable heart, Or make it capable of one brief joy! 210 Live! live! Why yes! 'Twere well to live with you: For is it fit a villain should be proud? My brother! I will kneel to you, my brother! [Kneeling. Forgive me, Alvar!——Curse me with forgiveness!

Alvar. Call back thy soul, Ordonio, and look round thee! 215 Now is the time for greatness! Think that heaven—

Teresa. O mark his eye! he hears not what you say.

Ordonio. Yes, mark his eye! there's fascination in it! Thou said'st thou did'st not know him—That is he! He comes upon me!

Alvar. Heal, O heal him, heaven! 220

Ordonio. Nearer and nearer! and I can not stir! Will no one hear these stifled groans, and wake me? He would have died to save me, and I killed him— A husband and a father!—

Teresa. Some secret poison Drinks up his spirits!

Ordonio. Let the eternal justice 225 Prepare my punishment in the obscure world— I will not bear to live—to live—O agony! And be myself alone my own sore torment!

[The doors of the dungeon are broken open, and in rush ALHADRA, and the band of Morescoes.

Alhadra. Seize first that man!

[ALVAR presses onward to defend ORDONIO.

Ordonio. Off, ruffians! I have flung away my sword. 230 Woman, my life is thine! to thee I give it! Off! he that touches me with his hand of flesh, I'll rend his limbs asunder! I have strength With this bare arm to scatter you like ashes.

Alhadra. My husband—

Ordonio. Yes, I murdered him most foully. 235

Alvar and Teresa. O horrible!

Alhadra. Why did'st thou leave his children? Demon, thou should'st have sent thy dogs of hell To lap their blood. Then, then I might have hardened My soul in misery, and have had comfort. I would have stood far off, quiet though dark, 240 And bade the race of men raise up a mourning For a deep horror of desolation, Too great to be one soul's particular lot! Brother of Zagri! let me lean upon thee. The time is not yet come for woman's anguish, 245 I have not seen his blood—Within an hour Those little ones will crowd around and ask me, Where is our father? I shall curse thee then! Wert thou in heaven, my curse would pluck thee thence!

Teresa. He doth repent! See, see, I kneel to thee! 250 O let him live! That agd man, his father——

Alhadra. Why had he such a son?

[Shouts from the distance of Rescue! Rescue! Alvar! Alvar! and the voice of VALDEZ heard.

Rescue?—and Isidore's spirit unavenged?— The deed be mine! [Suddenly stabs ORDONIO. Now take my life!

Ordonio (staggering from the wound). Atonement!

Alvar (while with Teresa supporting Ordonio). Arm of avenging Heaven 255 Thou hast snatched from me my most cherished hope— But go! my word was pledged to thee.

Ordonio. Away! Brave not my Father's rage! I thank thee! Thou—

[Then turning his eyes languidly to ALVAR.

She hath avenged the blood of Isidore! I stood in silence like a slave before her 260 That I might taste the wormwood and the gall, And satiate this self-accusing heart With bitterer agonies than death can give. Forgive me, Alvar! Oh!—could'st thou forget me! [Dies.

[ALVAR and TERESA bend over the body of ORDONIO.

Alhadra (to the Moors). I thank thee, Heaven! thou hast ordained it wisely, 265 That still extremes bring their own cure. That point In misery, which makes the oppressed Man Regardless of his own life, makes him too Lord of the Oppressor's—Knew I a hundred men Despairing, but not palsied by despair, 270 This arm should shake the kingdoms of the world; The deep foundations of iniquity Should sink away, earth groaning from beneath them; The strongholds of the cruel men should fall, Their temples and their mountainous towers should fall; 275 Till desolation seemed a beautiful thing, And all that were and had the spirit of life, Sang a new song to her who had gone forth, Conquering and still to conquer!

[ALHADRA hurries off with the Moors; the stage fills with armed Peasants, and Servants, ZULIMEZ and VALDEZ at their head. VALDEZ rushes into ALVAR'S arms.

Alvar. Turn not thy face that way, my father! hide, 280 Oh hide it from his eye! Oh let thy joy Flow in unmingled stream through thy first blessing.

[Both kneel to VALDEZ.

Valdez. My Son! My Alvar! bless, Oh bless him, heaven!

Teresa. Me too, my Father?

Valdez. Bless, Oh bless my children!

[Both rise.

Alvar. Delights so full, if unalloyed with grief, 285 Were ominous. In these strange dread events Just Heaven instructs us with an awful voice, That Conscience rules us e'en against our choice. Our inward Monitress to guide or warn, If listened to; but if repelled with scorn, 290 At length as dire Remorse, she reappears, Works in our guilty hopes, and selfish fears! Still bids, Remember! and still cries, Too late! And while she scares us, goads us to our fate.

LINENOTES:

[30] touch] torch Edition 1.

[36] life] life-blood Edition 1.

[After 41] As in a dream I ask; if it be a dream Edition 1.

[46] Beyond which I scarce dare to look! (shudders) Edition 1.

[After 46] [Shuddering. Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[After 48] [Faintly . . . recess, and moves hastily towards her. Edition 1.

[After 55] Teresa (recovering, looks round wildly). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[62] Alvar (eagerly). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[64]

Teresa (retires from him, and feebly supports herself against a pillar of the dungeon). Ha! who art thou?

Alvar (exceedingly affected). Suborned, &c.

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[65] thou Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[72]

Teresa (wildly). Nay, nay, but tell me!

[A pause, then presses her forehead.

O 'tis lost again! This dull confused pain. [A pause, she gazes at ALVAR.

Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[77] he Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[83] Teresa (advances towards him). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[98] own om. Edition 1.

[After 103] [Retiring, she returns hastily and embracing ALVAR. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[Before 106] Ordonio (with affected gravity). Edition 1 (c) (?).

[107] old Pluto] oblivion Edition 1.

[After 115] [Waving his hand to ALVAR. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[150] [ALVAR . . . and throws it to the ground with stern contempt. Edition 1. [ALVAR . . . and throwing it to the ground, &c. Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[166] Ordonio (vacantly repeating the words). Saved? Saved? Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[177] Alvar (almost overcome by his feelings). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[193] Alvar (seizing his hand). Edition 1.

[After 195] [ORDONIO with frantic wildness runs, &c. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[203] Ordonio (drawing back and gazing at Alvar with a countenance of at once awe and terror). Touch me not! Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[207] And] Oh Edition 1.

[214] Curse Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[218] Ordonio (pointing at vacancy). Edition 1. (pointing at the vacancy). Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[225] Ordonio (fiercely recollecting himself). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[After 229] (Alvar presses on as if to defend Ordonio.) Edition 1.

[243] one] one's 1829.

[After 244] [Struggling to suppress her feelings. Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[246] his Editions 2, 3, 1829.

[252] Alhadra (sternly). Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[254] my Editions 1, 2, 3, 1829.

[254-9]

The deed be mine! (Suddenly stabs ORDONIO.) Now take my life!

Alv. (while with TERESA supporting ORDONIO). Arm of avenging Heaven! Thou hast snatch'd from me my most cherish'd hope But go! my word was pledged to thee. Away! Brave not my Father's vengeance! [The Moors hurry off ALHADRA.

Ord. She hath aveng'd the blood of Isidore.

Edition 1.

[255] Ordonio (with great majesty). 'Tis well thou hast avenged thyself, O Woman! Edition 1 (b).

[Note.—In his collation of Remorse with Osorio, the Editor of P. W. 1877-1880, iv. 154 affixes to lines 289-303 of the Fifth Act of Osorio the following variant, said to be derived from the First Edition of Remorse:—After the cry of 'No mercy' (Osorio, Act V, l. 300), 'NAOMI advances with the sword and ALHADRA snatches it from him and suddenly stabs ORDONIO. ALVAR rushes through the Moors and catches him in his arms.' After Ordonio's dying speech [ll. 304-307], there are 'shouts of Alvar! Alvar! behind the scenes. A Moor rushes in'—

Moor. We are surprised! away! away! this instant! The country is in arms! Lord Valdez heads them, And still cries out, 'My son! my Alvar lives!' Haste to the shore! they come the opposite road. Your wives and children are already safe. The boat is on the shore—the vessel waits.

Alhadra. Thou then art Alvar! to my aid and safety Thy word stands pledged.

Alvar. Arm of avenging Heaven! I had two cherish'd hopes—the one remains, The other thou hast snatch'd from me: but my word Is pledged to thee; nor shall it be retracted—

Edition 1 (c) (?).

[For MS. version of this variant see note on p. 597.]]

[257] But go!] Yet, yet MS. H.

[After 259] (ORDONIO follows ALHADRA with his eye which then raising languidly to ALVAR he compleats his meaning, but substituting 'the' for 'Thee'). Marginal stage-direction inserted in MS. R.]

Stage-direction preceding 265 and 265-79: om. Edition 1.

[Before 280] [The stage fills with armed peasants . . . ALVAR'S arms. Edition 1.



APPENDIX

The following Scene, as unfit for the stage, was taken from the tragedy, in the year 1797, and published in the Lyrical Ballads. [1798, pp. 28-31: vide ante, pp. 182-4.]

Enter Teresa and Selma.

Teresa. 'Tis said, he spake of you familiarly, As mine and Alvar's common foster-mother.

Selma. Now blessings on the man, whoe'er he be That joined your names with mine! O my sweet Lady, As often as I think of those dear times, 5 When you two little ones would stand, at eve, On each side of my chair, and make me learn All you had learnt in the day; and how to talk In gentle phrase; then bid me sing to you—— 'Tis more like heaven to come, than what has been! 10

Teresa. But that entrance, Selma?

Selma. Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale!

Teresa. No one.

Selma. My husband's father told it me, Poor old Sesina—angels rest his soul; He was a woodman, and could fell and saw With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam 15 Which props the hanging wall of the old chapel? Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree, He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, 20 And reared him at the then Lord Valdez' cost. And so the babe grew up a pretty boy, A pretty boy, but most unteachable—— And never learn'd a prayer, nor told a bead, But knew the names of birds, and mocked their notes, 25 And whistled, as he were a bird himself. And all the autumn 'twas his only play To gather seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them With earth and water on the stumps of trees. A Friar, who gathered simples in the wood, 30 A grey-haired man, he loved this little boy: The boy loved him, and, when the friar taught him, He soon could write with the pen; and from that time Lived chiefly at the convent or the castle. So he became a rare and learned youth: 35 But O! poor wretch! he read, and read, and read, Till his brain turned; and ere his twentieth year He had unlawful thoughts of many things: And though he prayed, he never loved to pray With holy men, nor in a holy place. 40 But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, The late Lord Valdez ne'er was wearied with him. And once, as by the north side of the chapel They stood together chained in deep discourse, The earth heaved under them with such a groan, 45 That the wall tottered, and had well nigh fallen Right on their heads. My Lord was sorely frightened; A fever seized him, and he made confession Of all the heretical and lawless talk Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seized, 50 And cast into that hole. My husband's father Sobbed like a child—it almost broke his heart: And once he was working near this dungeon, He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's, Who sung a doleful song about green fields, 55 How sweet it were on lake or wide savanna To hunt for food, and be a naked man, And wander up and down at liberty. He always doted on the youth, and now His love grew desperate; and defying death, 60 He made that cunning entrance I described, And the young man escaped.

Teresa. 'Tis a sweet tale: Such as would lull a listening child to sleep, His rosy face besoiled with unwiped tears. And what became of him?

Selma. He went on shipboard 65 With those bold voyagers who made discovery Of golden lands. Sesina's younger brother Went likewise, and when he returned to Spain, He told Sesina, that the poor mad youth, Soon after they arrived in that new world, 70 In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat, And all alone set sail by silent moonlight Up a great river, great as any sea, And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis supposed, He lived and died among the savage men. 75



ZAPOLYA[883:1]

A CHRISTMAS TALE IN TWO PARTS[883:2]

Par pyri chr toiauta legein cheimnos en hra. APUD ATHENAEUM.

ADVERTISEMENT

The form of the following dramatic poem is in humble imitation of the Winter's Tale of Shakspeare, except that I have called the first part a Prelude instead of a first Act, as a somewhat nearer resemblance to the plan of the ancients, of which one specimen is left us in the schylean Trilogy of the Agamemnon, the Orestes, and the Eumenides. Though a matter of form merely, yet two plays, on different periods of the same tale, might seem less bold, than an interval of twenty years between a first and second act. This is, however, in mere obedience to custom. The effect does not, in reality, at all depend on the Time of the interval; but on a very different principle. There are cases in which an interval of twenty hours between the acts would have a worse effect (i. e. render the imagination less disposed to take the position required) than twenty years in other cases. For the rest, I shall be well content if my readers will take it up, read and judge it, as a Christmas tale.

FOOTNOTES:

[883:1] First published in 1817: included in 1828, 1829 and 1834. Zapolya was written at Calne, in Wiltshire, in 1815. It was offered to the Committee of Management of Drury Lane Theatre, and rejected, in March, 1816.

[883:2] Title Zapolya, &c. The Prelude entitled 'The Usurper's Fortune'; and The Sequel entitled 'The Usurper's Fate'. By S. T. Coleridge, Esq. 1817.

LINENOTES:

Orestes] Choephoroe MS. S. T. C.



PART I

THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED 'THE USURPER'S FORTUNE'

CHARACTERS

EMERICK, Usurping King of Illyria. RAAB KIUPRILI, an Illyrian Chieftain. CASIMIR, Son of KIUPRILI. CHEF RAGOZZI, a Military Commander. ZAPOLYA, Queen of Illyria.

SCENE I

Front of the Palace with a magnificent Colonnade. On one side a military Guard-house. Sentries pacing backward and forward before the Palace. CHEF RAGOZZI, at the door of the Guard-house, as looking forwards at some object in the distance.

Chef Ragozzi. My eyes deceive me not, it must be he. Who but our chief, my more than father, who But Raab Kiuprili moves with such a gait? Lo! e'en this eager and unwonted haste But agitates, not quells, its majesty. 5 My patron! my commander! yes, 'tis he! Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes.

[Drums beat, &c., the Guard turns out.

Enter RAAB KIUPRILI.

Raab Kiuprili (making a signal to stop the drums, &c.). Silence! enough! This is no time, young friend, For ceremonious dues. The summoning drum, Th' air-shattering trumpet, and the horseman's clatter, 10 Are insults to a dying sovereign's ear. Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your General greets you, His loyal fellow-warriors. [Guards retire.

Chef Ragozzi. Pardon my surprise. Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended! What may these wonders prophesy?

Raab Kiuprili. Tell me first, 15 How fares the king? His majesty still lives?

Chef Ragozzi. We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends (And none but they approach him) scoff at hope.

Raab Kiuprili. Ragozzi! I have reared thee from a child, And as a child I have reared thee. Whence this air 20 Of mystery? That face was wont to open Clear as the morning to me, shewing all things. Hide nothing from me.

Chef Ragozzi. O most loved, most honoured, The mystery that struggles in my looks Betrayed my whole tale to thee, if it told thee 25 That I am ignorant; but fear the worst. And mystery is contagious. All things here Are full of motion: and yet all is silent: And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears.

Raab Kiuprili. I have trembling proof within how true thou speakest. 30

Chef Ragozzi. That the prince Emerick feasts the soldiery, Gives splendid arms, pays the commanders' debts, And (it is whispered) by sworn promises Makes himself debtor—hearing this, thou hast heard All—— 35 But what my lord will learn too soon himself.

Raab Kiuprili. Ha!—Well then, let it come! Worse scarce can come. This letter written by the trembling hand Of royal Andreas calls me from the camp To his immediate presence. It appoints me, 40 The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm, And of the royal infant. Day by day, Robbed of Zapolya's soothing cares, the king Yearns only to behold one precious boon, And with his life breathe forth a father's blessing. 45

Chef Ragozzi. Remember you, my lord! that Hebrew leech Whose face so much distempered you?

Raab Kiuprili. Barzoni? I held him for a spy; but the proof failing (More courteously, I own, than pleased myself), I sent him from the camp.

Chef Ragozzi. To him, in chief, 50 Prince Emerick trusts his royal brother's health.

Raab Kiuprili. Hide nothing, I conjure you! What of him?

Chef Ragozzi. With pomp of words beyond a soldier's cunning, And shrugs and wrinkled brow, he smiles and whispers! Talks in dark words of women's fancies; hints 55 That 'twere a useless and a cruel zeal To rob a dying man of any hope, However vain, that soothes him: and, in fine, Denies all chance of offspring from the Queen.

Raab Kiuprili. The venomous snake! My heel was on its head, 60 And (fool!) I did not crush it!

Chef Ragozzi. Nay, he fears Zapolya will not long survive her husband.

Raab Kiuprili. Manifest treason! Even this brief delay Half makes me an accomplice——(If he live,)

[Is moving toward the palace.

If he but live and know me, all may——

Chef Ragozzi. Halt! [Stops him. 65 On pain of death, my Lord! am I commanded To stop all ingress to the palace.

Raab Kiuprili. Thou!

Chef Ragozzi. No place, no name, no rank excepted—

Raab Kiuprili. Thou!

Chef Ragozzi. This life of mine, O take it, Lord Kiuprili! I give it as a weapon to thy hands, 70 Mine own no longer. Guardian of Illyria, Useless to thee, 'tis worthless to myself. Thou art the framer of my nobler being; Nor does there live one virtue in my soul, One honourable hope, but calls thee father. 75 Yet ere thou dost resolve, know that yon palace Is guarded from within, that each access Is thronged by armed conspirators, watched by ruffians Pampered with gifts, and hot upon the spoil Which that false promiser still trails before them. 80 I ask but this one boon—reserve my life Till I can lose it for the realm and thee!

Raab Kiuprili. My heart is rent asunder. O my country, O fallen Illyria, stand I here spell-bound? Did my King love me? Did I earn his love? 85 Have we embraced as brothers would embrace? Was I his arm, his thunder-bolt? And now Must I, hag-ridden, pant as in a dream? Or, like an eagle, whose strong wings press up Against a coiling serpent's folds, can I 90 Strike but for mockery, and with restless beak Gore my own breast?—Ragozzi, thou art faithful?

Chef Ragozzi. Here before Heaven I dedicate my faith To the royal line of Andreas.

Raab Kiuprili. Hark, Ragozzi! Guilt is a timorous thing ere perpetration: 95 Despair alone makes wicked men be bold. Come thou with me! They have heard my voice in flight, Have faced round, terror-struck, and feared no longer The whistling javelins of their fell pursuers. Ha! what is this?

[Black flag displayed from the Tower of the Palace: a death-bell tolls, &c.

Vengeance of Heaven! He is dead. 100

Chef Ragozzi. At length then 'tis announced. Alas! I fear, That these black death-flags are but treason's signals.

Raab Kiuprili. A prophecy too soon fulfilled! See yonder! O rank and ravenous wolves! the death-bell echoes Still in the doleful air—and see! they come. 105

Chef Ragozzi. Precise and faithful in their villainy Even to the moment, that the master traitor Had pre-ordained them.

Raab Kiuprili. Was it over-haste, Or is it scorn, that in this race of treason Their guilt thus drops its mask, and blazons forth 110 Their infamous plot even to an idiot's sense?

Chef Ragozzi. Doubtless they deem Heaven too usurp'd! Heaven's justice Bought like themselves! Being equal all in crime, Do you press on, ye spotted parricides! For the one sole pre-eminence yet doubtful, 115 The prize of foremost impudence in guilt?

Raab Kiuprili. The bad man's cunning still prepares the way For its own outwitting. I applaud, Ragozzi! Ragozzi! I applaud, In thee, the virtuous hope that dares look onward And keeps the life-spark warm of future action 120 Beneath the cloak of patient sufferance. Act and appear, as time and prudence prompt thee: I shall not misconceive the part thou playest. Mine is an easier part—to brave the usurper.

[Enter a procession of EMERICK'S Adherents, Nobles, Chieftains, and Soldiers, with Music. They advance toward the front of the stage. KIUPRILI makes the signal for them to stop.—The Music ceases.

Leader of the Procession. The Lord Kiuprili!—Welcome from the camp. 125

Raab Kiuprili. Grave magistrates and chieftains of Illyria, In good time come ye hither, if ye come As loyal men with honourable purpose To mourn what can alone be mourned; but chiefly To enforce the last commands of royal Andreas 130 And shield the Queen, Zapolya: haply making The mother's joy light up the widow's tears.

Leader. Our purpose demands speed. Grace our procession; A warrior best will greet a warlike king.

Raab Kiuprili. This patent written by your lawful king, 135 (Lo! his own seal and signature attesting) Appoints as guardians of his realm and offspring, The Queen, and the Prince Emerick, and myself.

[Voices of Live KING EMERICK! an EMERICK! an EMERICK!

What means this clamour? Are these madmen's voices? Or is some knot of riotous slanderers leagued 140 To infamize the name of the king's brother With a lie black as Hell? unmanly cruelty, Ingratitude, and most unnatural treason? [Murmurs. What mean these murmurs? Dare then any here Proclaim Prince Emerick a spotted traitor? 145 One that has taken from you your sworn faith, And given you in return a Judas' bribe, Infamy now, oppression in reversion, And Heaven's inevitable curse hereafter?

[Loud murmurs, followed by cries—EMERICK! No Baby Prince! No Changelings!

Yet bear with me awhile! Have I for this 150 Bled for your safety, conquered for your honour? Was it for this, Illyrians! that I forded Your thaw-swoln torrents, when the shouldering ice Fought with the foe, and stained its jagged points With gore from wounds I felt not? Did the blast 155 Beat on this body, frost-and-famine-numbed, Till my hard flesh distinguished not itself From the insensate mail, its fellow warrior? And have I brought home with me Victory, And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed Peace, 160 Her countenance twice lighted up with glory, As if I had charmed a goddess down from Heaven? But these will flee abhorrent from the throne Of usurpation!

[Murmurs increase—and cries of Onward! Onward!

Have you then thrown off shame, And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject, 165 Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophies Valiantly wrested from a valiant foe, Love's natural offerings to a rightful king, Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor, This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes 170 Of gold plucked from the images of gods Upon a sacrilegious robber's back. [Enter LORD CASIMIR.

Casimir. Who is this factious insolent, that dares brand The elected King, our chosen Emerick? My father!

Raab Kiuprili. Casimir! He, he a traitor! 175 Too soon indeed, Ragozzi! have I learnt it. [Aside.

Casimir. My father and my lord!

Raab Kiuprili. I know thee not!

Leader. Yet the remembrancing did sound right filial.

Raab Kiuprili. A holy name and words of natural duty Are blasted by a thankless traitor's utterance. 180

Casimir. O hear me, Sire! not lightly have I sworn Homage to Emerick. Illyria's sceptre Demands a manly hand, a warrior's grasp. The queen Zapolya's self-expected offspring At least is doubtful: and of all our nobles, 185 The king, inheriting his brother's heart, Hath honoured us the most. Your rank, my lord! Already eminent, is—all it can be— Confirmed: and me the king's grace hath appointed Chief of his council and the lord high steward. 190

Raab Kiuprili. (Bought by a bribe!) I know thee now still less.

Casimir. So much of Raab Kiuprili's blood flows here, That no power, save that holy name of father, Could shield the man who so dishonoured me.

Raab Kiuprili. The son of Raab Kiuprili a bought bond-slave, 195 Guilt's pander, treason's mouth-piece, a gay parrot, School'd to shrill forth his feeder's usurp'd titles. And scream, Long live King Emerick!

Leaders. Aye, King Emerick! Stand back, my lord! Lead us, or let us pass.

Soldier. Nay, let the general speak!

Soldiers. Hear him! hear him!

Raab Kiuprili. Hear me, 200 Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria, Hear, and avenge me! Twice ten years have I Stood in your presence, honoured by the king: Beloved and trusted. Is there one among you Accuses Raab Kiuprili of a bribe? 205 Or one false whisper in his sovereign's ear? Who here dares charge me with an orphan's rights Outfaced, or widow's plea left undefended? And shall I now be branded by a traitor, A bought, bribed wretch, who, being called my son, 210 Doth libel a chaste matron's name, and plant Hensbane and aconite on a mother's grave? The underling accomplice of a robber, That from a widow and a widow's offspring Would steal their heritage? To God a rebel, 215 And to the common father of his country A recreant ingrate!

Casimir. Sire! your words grow dangerous. High-flown romantic fancies ill-beseem Your age and wisdom. 'Tis a statesman's virtue, To guard his country's safety by what means 220 It best may be protected—come what will Of these monk's morals!

Raab Kiuprili (aside). Ha! the elder Brutus Made his soul iron, though his sons repented. They boasted not their baseness. [Draws his sword. Infamous changeling! Recant this instant, and swear loyalty, 225 And strict obedience to thy sovereign's will; Or, by the spirit of departed Andreas, Thou diest——

[Chiefs, &c., rush to interpose; during the tumult enter EMERICK, alarmed.

Emerick. Call out the guard! Ragozzi! seize the assassin.—— Kiuprili? Ha!—— [Making signs to the guard to retire. Pass on, friends! to the palace. 230

[Music recommences.—The Procession passes into the Palace.

Emerick. What? Raab Kiuprili? What? a father's sword Against his own son's breast?

Raab Kiuprili. 'Twould best excuse him, Were he thy son, Prince Emerick. I abjure him.

Emerick. This is my thanks, then, that I have commenced A reign to which the free voice of the nobles 235 Hath called me, and the people, by regards Of love and grace to Raab Kiuprili's house?

Raab Kiuprili. What right hadst thou, Prince Emerick, to bestow them?

Emerick. By what right dares Kiuprili question me?

Raab Kiuprili. By a right common to all loyal subjects— 240 To me a duty! As the realm's co-regent, Appointed by our sovereign's last free act, Writ by himself.— [Grasping the Patent.

Emerick. Aye!—Writ in a delirium!

Raab Kiuprili. I likewise ask, by whose authority The access to the sovereign was refused me? 245

Emerick. By whose authority dared the general leave His camp and army, like a fugitive?

Raab Kiuprili. A fugitive, who, with victory for his comrade, Ran, open-eyed, upon the face of death! A fugitive, with no other fear, than bodements 250 To be belated in a loyal purpose— At the command, Prince! of my king and thine, Hither I came; and now again require Audience of Queen Zapolya; and (the States Forthwith convened) that thou dost shew at large, 255 On what ground of defect thou'st dared annul This thy King's last and solemn act—hast dared Ascend the throne, of which the law had named, And conscience should have made thee, a protector.

Emerick. A sovereign's ear ill brooks a subject's questioning! 260 Yet for thy past well-doing—and because 'Tis hard to erase at once the fond belief Long cherished, that Illyria had in thee No dreaming priest's slave, but a Roman lover Of her true weal and freedom—and for this, too, 265 That, hoping to call forth to the broad day-light And fostering breeze of glory all deservings, I still had placed thee foremost.

Raab Kiuprili. Prince! I listen.

Emerick. Unwillingly I tell thee, that Zapolya, Maddened with grief, her erring hopes proved idle— 270

Casimir. Sire! speak the whole truth! Say, her fraud detected!

Emerick. According to the sworn attests in council Of her physician——

Raab Kiuprili (aside). Yes! the Jew, Barzoni!

Emerick. Under the imminent risk of death she lies, Or irrecoverable loss of reason, 275 If known friend's face or voice renew the frenzy.

Casimir (to Kiuprili). Trust me, my lord! a woman's trick has duped you— Us too—but most of all, the sainted Andreas. Even for his own fair fame, his grace prays hourly For her recovery, that (the States convened) 280 She may take counsel of her friends.

Emerick. Right, Casimir! Receive my pledge, lord general. It shall stand In her own will to appear and voice her claims; Or (which in truth I hold the wiser course) With all the past passed by, as family quarrels, 285 Let the Queen Dowager, with unblenched honours, Resume her state, our first Illyrian matron.

Raab Kiuprili. Prince Emerick! you speak fairly, and your pledge too Is such, as well would suit an honest meaning.

Casimir. My lord! you scarce know half his grace's goodness. 290 The wealthy heiress, high-born fair Sarolta, Bred in the convent of our noble ladies, Her relative, the venerable abbess, Hath, at his grace's urgence, wooed and won for me.

Emerick. Long may the race, and long may that name flourish, 295 Which your heroic deeds, brave chief, have rendered Dear and illustrious to all true Illyrians.

Raab Kiuprili. The longest line that ever tracing herald Or found or feigned, placed by a beggar's soul Hath but a mushroom's date in the comparison: 300 And with the soul, the conscience is coeval, Yea, the soul's essence.

Emerick. Conscience, good my lord, Is but the pulse of reason. Is it conscience, That a free nation should be handed down, Like the dull clods beneath our feet, by chance 305 And the blind law of lineage? That whether infant, Or man matured, a wise man or an idiot, Hero or natural coward, shall have guidance Of a free people's destiny, should fall out In the mere lottery of a reckless nature, 310 Where few the prizes and the blanks are countless? Or haply that a nation's fate should hang On the bald accident of a midwife's handling The unclosed sutures of an infant's skull?

Casimir. What better claim can sovereign wish or need 315 Than the free voice of men who love their country? Those chiefly who have fought for't? Who by right, Claim for their monarch one, who having obeyed, So hath best learnt to govern; who, having suffered, Can feel for each brave sufferer and reward him? 320 Whence sprang the name of Emperor? Was it not By Nature's fiat? In the storm of triumph, 'Mid warriors' shouts, did her oracular voice Make itself heard: Let the commanding spirit Possess the station of command!

Raab Kiuprili. Prince Emerick, 325 Your cause will prosper best in your own pleading.

Emerick (aside to Casimir). Ragozzi was thy school-mate—a bold spirit! Bind him to us!—Thy father thaws apace! [Then aloud. Leave us awhile, my lord!—Your friend, Ragozzi, Whom you have not yet seen since his return, 330 Commands the guard to-day.

[CASIMIR retires to the Guard-house; and after a time appears before it with CHEF RAGOZZI.

We are alone. What further pledge or proof desires Kiuprili? Then, with your assent——

Raab Kiuprili. Mistake not for assent The unquiet silence of a stern resolve Throttling the impatient voice. I have heard thee, Prince! 335 And I have watched thee, too; but have small faith in A plausible tale told with a flitting eye.

[EMERICK turns as about to call for the Guard.

In the next moment I am in thy power, In this thou art in mine. Stir but a step, Or make one sign—I swear by this good sword, 340 Thou diest that instant.

Emerick. Ha, ha!—Well, Sir!—Conclude your homily.

Raab Kiuprili. A tale which, whether true or false, comes guarded Against all means of proof, detects itself. The Queen mew'd up—this too from anxious care 345 And love brought forth of a sudden, a twin birth With thy discovery of her plot to rob thee Of a rightful throne!—Mark how the scorpion, falsehood, Coils round in its own perplexity, and fixes Its sting in its own head!

Emerick. Aye! to the mark! 350

Raab Kiuprili. Had'st thou believed thine own tale, had'st thou fancied Thyself the rightful successor of Andreas, Would'st thou have pilfered from our school-boys' themes These shallow sophisms of a popular choice? What people? How convened? or, if convened, 355 Must not the magic power that charms together Millions of men in council, needs have power To win or wield them? Better, O far better Shout forth thy titles to yon circling mountains, And with a thousand-fold reverberation 360 Make the rocks flatter thee, and the volleying air, Unbribed, shout back to thee, King Emerick! By wholesome laws to embank the sovereign power, To deepen by restraint, and by prevention Of lawless will to amass and guide the flood 365 In its majestic channel, is man's task And the true patriot's glory! In all else Men safelier trust to Heaven, than to themselves When least themselves in the mad whirl of crowds Where folly is contagious, and too oft 370 Even wise men leave their better sense at home To chide and wonder at them when returned.

Emerick (aloud). Is't thus thou scoff'st the people? most of all, The soldiers, the defenders of the people?

Raab Kiuprili. O most of all, most miserable nation, 375 For whom the imperial power, enormous bubble! Is blown and kept aloft, or burst and shattered By the bribed breath of a lewd soldiery! Chiefly of such, as from the frontiers far, (Which is the noblest station of true warriors) 380 In rank licentious idleness beleaguer City and Court, a venomed thorn i'the side Of virtuous kings, the tyrant's slave and tyrant, Still ravening for fresh largess! But with such What title claim'st thou, save thy birth? What merits 385 Which many a liegeman may not plead as well, Brave though I grant thee? If a life outlaboured Head, heart, and fortunate arm, in watch and war, For the land's fame and weal; if large acquests, Made honest by the aggression of the foe, 390 And whose best praise is, that they bring us safety; If victory, doubly-wreathed, whose under-garland Of laurel-leaves looks greener and more sparkling Thro' the grey olive-branch; if these, Prince Emerick! Give the true title to the throne, not thou— 395 No! (let Illyria, let the infidel enemy Be judge and arbiter between us!) I, I were the rightful sovereign!

Emerick. I have faith That thou both think'st and hop'st it. Fair Zapolya, A provident lady—

Raab Kiuprili. Wretch beneath all answer! 400

Emerick. Offers at once the royal bed and throne!

Raab Kiuprili. To be a kingdom's bulwark, a king's glory, Yet loved by both, and trusted, and trust-worthy, Is more than to be king; but see! thy rage Fights with thy fear. I will relieve thee! Ho! [To the Guard. 405

Emerick. Not for thy sword, but to entrap thee, ruffian! Thus long I have listened—Guard—ho! from the Palace.

[The Guard post from the Guard-house with CHEF RAGOZZI at their head, and then a number from the Palace—CHEF RAGOZZI demands KIUPRILI'S sword, and apprehends him.

Casimir. O agony! [To EMERICK. Sire, hear me!

[To KIUPRILI, who turns from him.

Hear me, father!

Emerick. Take in arrest that traitor and assassin! Who pleads for his life, strikes at mine, his sovereign's. 410

Raab Kiuprili. As the Co-regent of the Realm, I stand Amenable to none save to the States Met in due course of law. But ye are bond-slaves, Yet witness ye that before God and man I here impeach Lord Emerick of foul treason, 415 And on strong grounds attaint him with suspicion Of murder—

Emerick. Hence with the madman!

Raab Kiuprili. Your Queen's murder, The royal orphan's murder: and to the death Defy him, as a tyrant and usurper.

[Hurried off by RAGOZZI and the Guard.

Emerick. Ere twice the sun hath risen, by my sceptre 420 This insolence shall be avenged.

Casimir. O banish him! This infamy will crush me. O for my sake, Banish him, my liege lord!

Emerick. What? to the army? Be calm, young friend! Nought shall be done in anger. The child o'erpowers the man. In this emergence 425 I must take counsel for us both. Retire. [Exit CASIMIR.

Emerick (alone, looks at a Calendar). The changeful planet, now in her decay, Dips down at midnight, to be seen no more. With her shall sink the enemies of Emerick, Cursed by the last look of the waning moon: 430 And my bright destiny, with sharpened horns, Shall greet me fearless in the new-born crescent. [Exit.

Scene changes to the back of the Palace—a Wooded Park, and Mountains. Enter ZAPOLYA, with an infant in arms.

Zapolya. Hush, dear one! hush! My trembling arm disturbs thee! Thou, the protector of the helpless! Thou, The widow's husband and the orphan's father, 435 Direct my steps! Ah whither? O send down Thy angel to a houseless babe and mother, Driven forth into the cruel wilderness! Hush, sweet one! Thou art no Hagar's offspring: thou art The rightful heir of an anointed king! 440 What sounds are those? It is the vesper chaunt Of labouring men returning to their home! Their queen has no home! Hear me, heavenly Father! And let this darkness—— Be as the shadow of thy outspread wings 445 To hide and shield us! Start'st thou in thy slumbers? Thou canst not dream of savage Emerick. Hush! Betray not thy poor mother! For if they seize thee I shall grow mad indeed, and they'll believe Thy wicked uncle's lie. Ha! what? A soldier? 450

[Enter CHEF RAGOZZI.

Chef Ragozzi. Sure Heaven befriends us. Well! he hath escaped! O rare tune of a tyrant's promises That can enchant the serpent treachery From forth its lurking hole in the heart. 'Ragozzi! O brave Ragozzi! Count! Commander! What not?' 455 And all this too for nothing! a poor nothing! Merely to play the underling in the murder Of my best friend Kiuprili! His own son—monstrous! Tyrant! I owe thee thanks, and in good hour Will I repay thee, for that thou thought'st me too 460 A serviceable villain. Could I now But gain some sure intelligence of the queen: Heaven bless and guard her!

Zapolya (coming forward). Art thou not Ragozzi?

Chef Ragozzi. The Queen! Now then the miracle is full! 465 I see heaven's wisdom is an over-match For the devil's cunning. This way, madam, haste!

Zapolya. Stay! Oh, no! Forgive me if I wrong thee! This is thy sovereign's child: Oh, pity us, And be not treacherous! [Kneeling.

Chef Ragozzi (raising her). Madam! For mercy's sake! 470

Zapolya. But tyrants have a hundred eyes and arms!

Chef Ragozzi. Take courage, madam! 'Twere too horrible, (I can not do't) to swear I'm not a monster!— Scarce had I barr'd the door on Raab Kiuprili—

Zapolya. Kiuprili! How?

Chef Ragozzi. There is not time to tell it,— 475 The tyrant called me to him, praised my zeal— (And be assured I overtopt his cunning And seemed right zealous.) But time wastes: In fine, Bids me dispatch my trustiest friends, as couriers With letters to the army. The thought at once 480 Flashed on me. I disguised my prisoner—

Zapolya. What, Raab Kiuprili?

Chef Ragozzi. Yes! my noble general! I sent him off, with Emerick's own pacquet, Haste, and post haste—Prepared to follow him——

Zapolya. Ah, how? Is it joy or fear? My limbs seem sinking!— 485

Chef Ragozzi (supporting her). Heaven still befriends us. I have left my charger, A gentle beast and fleet, and my boy's mule, One that can shoot a precipice like a bird, Just where the wood begins to climb the mountains. The course we'll thread will mock the tyrant's guesses, 490 Or scare the followers. Ere we reach the main road The Lord Kiuprili will have sent a troop To escort me. Oh, thrice happy when he finds The treasure which I convoy!

Zapolya. One brief moment, That praying for strength I may have strength. This babe, 495 Heaven's eye is on it, and its innocence Is, as a prophet's prayer, strong and prevailing! Through thee, dear babe, the inspiring thought possessed me, When the loud clamor rose, and all the palace Emptied itself—(They sought my life, Ragozzi!) 500 Like a swift shadow gliding, I made way To the deserted chamber of my lord.— [Then to the infant. And thou didst kiss thy father's lifeless lips, And in thy helpless hand, sweet slumberer! Still clasp'st the signet of thy royalty. 505 As I removed the seal, the heavy arm Dropt from the couch aslant, and the stiff finger Seemed pointing at my feet. Provident Heaven! Lo, I was standing on the secret door, Which, through a long descent where all sound perishes, 510 Led out beyond the palace. Well I knew it—— But Andreas framed it not! He was no tyrant!

Chef Ragozzi. Haste, madam! Let me take this precious burden!

[He kneels as he takes the child.

Zapolya. Take him! And if we be pursued, I charge thee, Flee thou and leave me! Flee and save thy king! 515

[Then as going off, she looks back on the palace.

Thou tyrant's den, be called no more a palace! The orphan's angel at the throne of heaven Stands up against thee, and there hover o'er thee A Queen's, a Mother's, and a Widow's curse. Henceforth a dragon's haunt, fear and suspicion 520 Stand sentry at thy portals! Faith and honour, Driven from the throne, shall leave the attainted nation: And, for the iniquity that houses in thee, False glory, thirst of blood, and lust of rapine, (Fateful conjunction of malignant planets) 525 Shall shoot their blastments on the land. The fathers Henceforth shall have no joy in their young men, And when they cry: Lo! a male child is born! The mother shall make answer with a groan. For bloody usurpation, like a vulture, 530 Shall clog its beak within Illyria's heart. Remorseless slaves of a remorseless tyrant, They shall be mocked with sounds of liberty, And liberty shall be proclaimed alone To thee, O Fire! O Pestilence! O Sword! 535 Till Vengeance hath her fill.—And thou, snatched hence, Poor friendless fugitive! with mother's wailing, Offspring of Royal Andreas, shalt return, With trump and timbrel-clang, and popular shout, In triumph to the palace of thy fathers! [Exeunt.

LINENOTES:

[3] such 1817, 1828, 1829.

[20] And as a child have reared thee 1817. And as a child I, &c. 1828, 1829.

[22] to] on 1817.

[Before 30] Raab Kiuprili (his hand to his heart). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[32] commanders'] commander's 1817, 1828, 1829.

[35]

All—— [Then, in a subdued and saddened voice.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[39] ANDREAS 1817, 1828, 1829.

[43] ZAPOLYA 1817, 1828, 1829.

[70] thy 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 103] Raab Kiuprili (looking forwards anxiously). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[113]

Bought like themselves! [During this conversation music is heard, first solemn and funereal, and then changing to spirited and triumphal.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[118]

. . . I applaud, Ragozzi! [Musing to himself—then—

1817, 1828, 1829.

[135] lawful 1817, 1828, 1829.

[159] VICTORY 1817, 1828, 1829.

[160] PEACE 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 172] [During the last four lines, enter LORD CASIMIR, with expressions of anger and alarm. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 174] [Starts—then approaching with timid respect. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[175] My father! Raab Kiuprili (turning away). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 177] Casimir (with reverence). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[187] Your 1817, 1828, 1829.

[Before 192] Casimir (struggling with his passion). 1817, 1828, 1829.

[210] my 1817, 1828, 1829.

[223] his 1817.

[224]

They BOASTED not their baseness. [Starts, and draws his sword.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[230.]

Kiuprili? Ha!—— [With lowered voice, at the same time with one hand making, &c.

1817, 1828, 1829.

[After 230] [Music . . . Palace.—During which time EMERICK and KIUPRILI regard each other stedfastly. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[233] thy—I 1817, 1828, 1829.

[234] thanks] thank 1817.

[240] me 1817, 1828, 1829.

[243] Emerick (with a contemptuous sneer). Aye!—Writ, &c. 1817, 1828, 1829.

[252] my 1817, 1828, 1829.

[268] thee 1817, 1828, 1829.

[271] fraud] frauds 1817: fraud's 1828, 1829.

[288] speak 1817, 1828, 1829.