DRAMATIS PERSONE.

OTHO THE GREAT, Emperor of Germany.
LUDOLPH, his Son.

CONRAD, Duke of Franconia.

ALBERT, a Knight, favoured by Otho.
SIGIFRED, an Officer, friend of Ludolph.
THEODORE,

GONFRID,

Officers.

ETHELBERT, an Abbot.

GERSA, Prince of Hungary.

An Hungarian Captain.
Physician.

Page.

Nobles, Knights, Attendants, and Soldiers.

ERMINIA, Niece of Otho.

AURANTHE, Conrad's Sister.

Ladies and Attendants.

SCENE. The Castle of Friedburg, its vicinity, and the

Hungarian Camp.

TIME. One Day.

OTHO THE GREAT.'

ACT I.

SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Castle.

Enter CONRAD.

O, I am safe emerged from these broils!
Amid the wreck of thousands I am whole;

For every crime I have a laurel-wreath,
For every lie a lordship. Not yet has
My ship of fortune furl'd her silken sails,-
Let her glide on!

This danger'd neck is saved,

"At Shanklin he undertook a difficult task; I engaged to furnish him with the title, characters, and dramatic conduct of a tragedy, and he was to enwrap it in poetry. The progress of this work was curious, for while I sat opposite to him, he caught my description of each scene entire, with the characters to be brought forward, the events, and everything connected with it. Thus he went on, scene after scene, never knowing nor inquiring into the scene which was to follow, until VOL. III.

15

four acts were completed. It was then he required to know at once all the events that were to occupy the fifth act; I explained them to him, but, after a patient hearing and some thought, he insisted that many incidents in it were too humorous, or, as he termed them, too melodramatic. He wrote the fifth act in accordance with his own views, and so contented was I with his poetry that at the time, and for a long time after, I thought he was in the right." CHARLES BROWN MS.

By dexterous policy, from the rebel's axe;
And of my ducal palace not one stone
Is bruised by the Hungarian petards.
Toil hard, ye slaves, and from the miser-earth
Bring forth once more my bullion, treasured deep,
With all my jewell'd salvers, silver and gold,
And precious goblets that make rich the wine.
But why do I stand babbling to myself?
Where is Auranthe? I have news for her.
Shall-

Enter AURANTHE.

Auranthe. Conrad! what tidings? Good, if I

may guess

From your alert eyes and high-lifted brows. What tidings of the battle? Albert ? Ludolph? Otho ?

Conrad. You guess aright. And, sister, slurring o'er
Our by-gone quarrels, I confess my heart
Is beating with a child's anxiety,

To make our golden fortune known to you.
Auranthe. So serious?

Conrad.

Yes, so serious, that before

I utter even the shadow of a hint

Concerning what will make that sin-worn cheek Blush joyous blood through every lineament, You must make here a solemn vow to me.

Auranthe. I pr'ythee, Conrad, do not overact The hypocrite. What vow would you impose? Conrad. Trust me for once. That you may be

assured

'Tis not confiding in a broken reed,
A poor court-bankrupt, outwitted and lost,
Revolve these facts in your acutest mood,

In such a mood as now you listen to me:
A few days since, I was an open rebel,—
Against the Emperor had suborn'd his son,-
Drawn off his nobles to revolt,-and shown
Contented fools causes for discontent,
Fresh hatch'd in my ambition's eagle-nest;
So thrived I as a rebel,—and, behold!
Now I am Otho's favourite, his dear friend,
His right hand, his brave Conrad!

Auranthe.
I confess
You have intrigued with these unsteady times
To admiration. But to be a favourite!

Conrad. I saw my moment. The Hungarians, Collected silently in holes and corners, Appear'd, a sudden host, in the open day. I should have perish'd in our empire's wreck, But, calling interest loyalty, swore faith To most believing Otho; and so help'd His blood-stain'd ensigns to the victory In yesterday's hard fight, that it has turn'd The edge of his sharp wrath to eager kindness. Auranthe. So far yourself. But what is this to me More than that I am glad? I gratulate you. Conrad. Yes, sister, but it does regard you greatly, Nearly, momentously,―aye, painfully!

Make me this vow

Auranthe.

Conrad. Albert!

Concerning whom or what?

Auranthe. I would inquire somewhat of him. You had a letter from me touching him? No treason 'gainst his head in deed or word! Surely you spared him at my earnest prayer? Give me the letter-it should not exist!

Conrad. At one pernicious charge of the enemy,
I, for a moment-whiles, was prisoner ta'en
And rifled,-stuff! the horses' hoofs have minced it!
Auranthe. He is alive?

Conrad. He is! but here make oath
To alienate him from your scheming brain,
Divorce him from your solitary thoughts,
And cloud him in such utter banishment,
That when his person meets again your eye
Your vision shall quite lose its memory,
And wander past him as through vacancy.
Auranthe. I'll not be perjured.

Conrad.

No, nor great, nor mighty; You would not wear a crown, or rule a kingdom. To you it is indifferent?

Auranthe.

What means this?

Conrad. You'll not be perjured! Go to Albert then, That camp-mushroom-dishonour of our house. Go, page his dusty heels upon a march, Furbish his jingling baldric while he sleeps, And share his mouldy ration in a siege. Yet stay, perhaps a charm may call you back, And make the widening circlets of your eyes Sparkle with healthy fevers.-The Emperor Hath given consent that you should marry Ludolph! Auranthe. Can it be, brother? For a golden crown With a queen's awful lips I doubly thank you! This is to wake in Paradise! Farewell, Thou clod of yesterday!-'twas not myself! Not till this moment did I ever feel My spirit's faculties! I'll flatter you For this, and be you ever proud of it; Thou, Jove-like, struck'dst thy forehead,