Speak to me, Bethlen! speak in your own voice! ZAPOLYA (rushing out from the cavern). GLYCINE. Whether his Mother live, or perish'd here! ZAPOLYA. Angel of Mercy, I was perishing And thou didst bring me food: and now thou bring'st GLYCINE. E'en till this morning we were wont to name him ZAPOLYA. Even till this morning? [GLYCINE leaves the provisions, and exit fearfully. This morning? when my weak faith fail'd me wholly! KIUPRILI comes forward, seizes them and carries Pardon, O thou that portion'st out our sufferance, them into the cavern. GLYCINE returns, having | And fill'st again the widow's empty cruse! recovered herself. GLYCINE. Shame! Nothing hurt me! Say on! GLYCINE. The false ones charged the valiant youth If some fierce beast have gored him, he must needs With treasonous words of EmerickSpeak with a strange voice. Wounds cause thirst and hoarseness! Speak, Bethlen! or but moan. St-St-No-Bethlen! And of Lord Casimir ZAPOLYA. Ha! my son! GLYCINE. Saints protect me! RAAB KIUPRILI. [As she approaches to enter the cavern, KIUPRILI stops her. GLYCINE shrieks. ZAPOLYA and RAAB KIUPRILI. Oh, fool! mine eyes are duped by my own shudder ing. Those piled thoughts, built up in solitude, Then, as if touch'd by fire from heaven descending, Do they desert me now!-at my last trial? RAAB KIUPRILI (still unseen). Patience! Truth! Obedience! Perchance some huntsmen of the king's. Thy name? RAAB KIUPRILI. BETHLEN. BETHLEN. Ask rather the poor roaming savage, To him, perchance rude spoil or ghastly trophy, I had a glimpse Thy birth-place? Looking at his signet. Ha! (Observing the cave). Had ever monster fitting Thou yawning Den, I well remember thee! BETHLEN. Deluding spirits, do ye mock me? RAAB KIUPRILI (still unseen). More, guiltier, mightier, Than thou mayest summon! Wait the destined hour! BETHLEN. O yet again, and with more clamorous prayer, ZAPOLYA (unseen). A sweeter voice!-A voice of love and pity! these The sole remains of her that gave me life? [ZAPOLYA rushes out to embrace him. BETHLEN starts. ZAPOLYA (embracing him). My son my son! A wretched-Oh no, no! a blest-a happy mother! [They embrace. KIUPRILI and GLYCINE come forward and the curtain drops. ACT III. SCENE I. A stately Room in LORD CASIMIR's Castle. EMERICK. I do perceive thou hast a tender conscience, LASKA. In this sovereign presence EMERICK. Perchance, thou think'st it strange, that I of all men LASKA. Far be it from me! Hold constant to thy exploit with this monster, LASKA. My talk? The saints forbid! I always said, for my part, "Was not the king Lord Casimir's dearest friend? Was not that friend a king? Whate'er he did 'Twas all from pure love to his Majesty." EMERICK. And this then was thy talk? While knave and coward, Your Majesty's love and choice bring honor with them. Off flew the parricidal arrow.-Even As Casimir loved Emerick, Emerick LASKA. Your Majesty's reasoning has convinced me. EMERICK (with a slight start, as one who had been talking aloud to himself: then with scorn). EMERICK. "Tis your talk, Is it, good statesman Laska? LASKA. No, not mine. "Tis well! and more than meant. Thee! For by my faith I had half forgotten thee.-Thou hast the key? [LASKA bows. And in your lady's chamber there's full space? LASKA. Between the wall and arras to conceal you. EMERICK. Here! This purse is but an earnest of thy fortune, [Exit EMERICK. LASKA manet with a key in one LASKA. Well then! Here I stand, Like Hercules, on either side a goddess. hold The house Are all safe lodged."-Then, put Fidelity Within her proper wards, just turn her roundSo-the door opens-and for all the rest, "Tis the king's deed, not Laska's. Do but this, And-"I'm the mere earnest of your future fortunes." But what says the other ?-Whisper on! I hear you! [Putting the key to his ear. Hurl'd my javelin; All very true!-but, good Fidelity! If I refuse king Emerick, will you promise, And swear, now, to unlock the dungeon-door, And save me from the hangman? Ay! you're silent! And take, friend, this advice. When next thou What! not a word in answer? A clear nonsuit! LASKA. Which from his dragon-scales recoiling tonguest it, EMERICK. Enough! Now for one look to see that all are lodged O tempt me not, e'en with a wandering guess, LASKA. [Re-enter LASKA, not perceiving them. You too, Sir Knight, have come back safe and sound! You play'd the hero at a cautious distance! OLD BATHORY. Laska, beware! Forget not what thou art! LASKA. What then! you swell upon my lady's favor, BETHLEN. Soft! my good Laska! might it not suffice, If to yourself, being Lord Casimir's steward, I should make record of Glycine's fate? LASKA. "Tis well! it shall content me! though your fear Has all the credit of these lower'd tones. [Then very pompously No nearer, pray! consider! First, we demand the manner of her death? If it should prove his ghost, the touch would freeze me BETHLEN. The fool is drunk! BETHLEN. Nay! that's superfluous! Have you not just told us, That you yourself, led by impetuous valor, Witness'd the whole? My tale's of later date. The sudden swelling of this shallow dastard Tells of a recent storm: the first disruption SAROLTA. ATTENDANT. And old Bathory answer'd With a sad smile, "It is a witch's prayer, Of the black cloud that hangs and threatens o'er us. And may Heaven read it backwards." Though she BETHLEN. E'en this reproves my loitering. Say where lies The oratory? OLD BATHORY. Ascend yon flight of stairs! Midway the corridor a silver lamp Hangs o'er the entrance of Sarolta's chamber, And facing it, the low-arch'd oratory! Me thou 'lt find watching at the outward gate: For a petard might burst the bars, unheard By the drenched porter, and Sarolta hourly Expects Lord Casimir, spite of Emerick's message! BETHLEN. There I will meet you! And till then good night! Dear good old man, good night! OLD BATHORY. O yet one moment! What I repell'd, when it did seem my own, BETHLEN. Now, and for ever My father! other sire than thou, on earth I never had, a dearer could not have! From the base earth you raised me to your arms, And I would leap from off a throne, and kneeling, Ask Heaven's blessing from thy lips. My father! was rash, O they were innocent, and yet have perish'd Still passing thence petitionary hours O send us forth to wander on, unshelter'd! |