SAROLTA. Thou hast hit my thought! To discontent us.-Were he come, then should I GLYCINE. But our best sports belike, and gay processions Would to my Lord have seem'd but work-day sights Compared with those the royal court affords. SAROLTA. I have small wish to see them. A spring morning, Did but command, what I had else entreated. And yet had I been born Lady Sarolta, SAROLTA. Hush! innocent flatterer! GLYCINE. Nay! to my poor fancy The royal court would seem an earthly heaven, Made for such stars to shine in, and be gracious. SAROLTA. So doth the ignorant distance still delude us! GLYCINE. Yes, madam! he was there. So was the maypole, Be brief! We know his titles! For we danced round it. SAROLTA. Ah, Glycine! why, Why did you then betroth yourself? GLYCINE Because My own dear lady wish'd it! 'twas you ask'd me! SAROLTA. Yes, at my Lord's request, but never wish'd, My poor affectionate girl, to see thee wretched. Thou know'st not yet the duties of a wife. GLYCINE. Oh, yes! It is a wife's chief duty, madam, SAROLTA. Not with fear, I think, For you still mock him. Bring a seat from the cottage. [Erit GLYCINE into the cottage, SAROLTA continues her speech, looking after her. Something above thy rank there hangs about thee, And in thy countenance, thy voice, and motion, LASKA. And moreover SAROLTA (to the Servants who offer to speak). OLD BATHORY. I know not: But if no ill betide him on the mountains, He will not long be absent! SAROLTA. Thou art his father? OLD BATHORY. None ever with more reason prized a son: My tale is brief. During our festive dance, Offer'd gross insults, in unmanly sort, To our village maidens. He (could he do less?) (Your hectoring sparks so over brave to women SAROLTA. Too bluntly! Did your son owe no respect To the livery of our house? LASKA (aside). Yes, now 'tis coming. SAROLTA. Brutal aggressors first, then baffled dastards, OLD BATHORY. Ha! what, strangers* here! What business have they in an old man's eye? I cannot-must not-let you be deceived. I have yet another tale, but- [Then to SAROLTA aside. Not for all ears! SAROLTA. Old man! you talk I oft have pass'd your cottage, and still praised OLD BATHORY. Even such respect As the sheep's skin should gain for the hot wolf That hath begun to worry the poor lambs! Old insolent ruffian! LASKA. GLYCINE. Pardon pardon, madam! I saw the whole affray. The good old man Means no offence, sweet lady!-You, yourself, Laska! know well, that these men were the ruffians! Shame on you! SAROLTA (speaks with affected anger). What! Glycine! Go, retire! [Exit GLYCINE, mournfully. Be it then that these men faulted. Yet yourself, Or better still belike the maidens' parents, Might have complain'd to us. Was ever access Denied you? Or free audience? Or are we Weak and unfit to punish our own servants? OLD BATHORY. [BATHORY bowing, shows her into his cottage LASKA (alone). Vexation! baffled! school'd! Ho! Laska! wake! why? what can all this mean? She sent away that cockatrice in anger! Oh the false witch! It is too plain, she loves him And now, the old man near my lady's person, She'll see this Bethlen hourly! [LASKA flings himself into the seal. GLYCINE peeps in timidly. Is my lady gone? So then! So then! Heaven grant an old man patience! Is he return'd? And must the gardener leave his seedling plants, GLYCINE. Laska! Laska! LASKA (surlily). Gone. GLYCINE. Have you yet seen him? [LASKA starts up from his seat. Has the seat stung you, Laska? His leisure serve to scourge them from their ravage? No! serpent! no; LASKA. 'tis you that sting me; you! cling to him again! GLYCINE. Whom? LASKA. Bethlen! Bethlen. Yes; gaze as if your very eyes embraced him! GLYCINE. Your fears, at least, Were real, Laska! or your trembling limbs And white cheeks play'd the hypocrites most vilely! Refers to the tear, which he fees starting in his eye. The following line was borrowed unconsciously from Mr. Wor worth's Excursion. I fear! whom? What? LASKA. GLYCINE. LASKA. You dare own all this? Your lady will not warrant promise-breach. I know, what I should fear, Mine, pamper'd Miss! you shall be; and I'll make Ay, as the old song says, Calm as a tiger, valiant as a dove. LASKA (pompously). Do you chance to know Who-I-am, Sir ?-(S'death how black he looks') BETHLEN. I have started many strange beasts in my time, But none less like a man, than this before me Nay now, I have marr'd the verse: well! this one That lifts his hand against a timid female. Bethlen Bathory? When he was accused, Why press'd you forward? Why did you defend him? Yes, I do, Bethlen; for he just now brought GLYCINE. Question meet question: that's a woman's privilege. Oh! that's a different thing. To be sure he's brave, and handsome, and so pious To his good old father. But for loving himNay, there, indeed you are mistaken, Laska! Poor youth! I rather think I grieve for him; For I sigh so deeply when I think of him! And if I see him, the tears come in my eyes, And my heart beats; and all because I dreamt That the war-wolf* had gored him as he hunted In the haunted forest! For the best account of the War-wolf or Lycanthropus, see Drayton's Moon-calf, Chalmers' English Poets, vol. iv. p. 13 0 BETHLEN. Bathory's! Where is my father? Answer, or- -Ha! gone! [LASKA during this time slinks off the Stage, using threatening gestures to GLYCINE. GLYCINE. Oh, heed not him! I saw you pressing onward, And did but feign alarm. Dear gallant youth, It is your life they seek! BETHLEN. My life? GLYCINE. Alas! Lady Sarolta even BETHLEN. She does not know me! GLYCINE. Oh that she did! she could not then have spoken With such stern countenance. But though she spurn me, I will kneel, Bethlen BETHLEN. Not for me, Glycine! What have I done? or whom have I offended? GLYCINE. Rash words, 'tis said, and treasonous, of the king. [BETHLEN retires. BETHLEN (who had overheard the last few words, now No, I shall break heart. my [Sobbing. Ha! is it so? SAROLTA (taking her hand). O strange and hidden power of sympathy, That of like fates, though all unknown to each, GLYCINE. Rise, Bethlen! Rise! BETHLEN. No; kneel thou too!, and with thy orphan's tongue And have no power to rise! Give me a father! Dost make blind instincts, orphan's heart to orphan's And bring it back, and make it plead for me Seeks his brave son. GLYCINE. Old Bathory SAROLTA. Come, wipe away thy tears. Yes, in good truth, Glycine, this same Bethlen Seems a most noble and deserving youth. In thine own heart! Speak! speak! Restore to me Safe? safe? O let me then inherit danger, SAROLTA (aside). That look again!- BETHLEN. Lady, 't was my wont To roam there in my childhood oft alone, · GLYCINE. Madam, that wood is haunted by the war-wolves, SAROLTA (with a smile). Moon-calves, credulous girl In the hollow of an old oak, as in a nest, That strain'd towards the babe. At length one arm To that appointed place, which I must seek: Painfully from her own weight disengaging, She pointed first to Heaven, then from her bosom Thy foster-father took thee in his arms, Or else she were my mother! SAROLTA. Noble youth! From me fear nothing! Long time have I owed And, kneeling, spake : If aught of this world's com- Offerings of expiation for misdeeds Can reach thy heart, receive a poor man's troth, Long pass'd that weigh me down, though innocent. Her countenance work'd, as one that seem'd pre- Proud, restless, and ill-sorting with thy state! paring A loud voice, but it died upon her lips In a faint whisper, "Fly! Save him! Hide-hide all!" BETHLEN. And did he leave her? What! Had I a mother? GLYCINE. Alas! thou art bewilder'd, And dost forget thou wert a helpless infant! BETHLEN. What else can I remember, but a mother SAROLTA. Hush, Glycine! now makes boil above it. Check him not! O that I were diffused among the waters Vain was his care! Thou 'st made thyself suspected Beseems thy years! Be thou henceforth my soldier! That in each noble deed, achieved or suffer'd, And may the light that streams from thine own Guide thee to that thou seekest! |