The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 106

_Ulr._ _Where?_

_Ida._ In sleep--I see him lie Pale, bleeding, and a man with a raised knife Beside him.

_Ulr._ But you do not see his _face?_

_Ida_ (_looking at him_). No! Oh, my G.o.d! do _you?_

_Ulr._ Why do you ask?

_Ida._ Because you look as if you saw a murderer!

_Ulr._ (_agitatedly_).

Ida, this is mere childishness; your weakness 200 Infects me, to my shame: but as all feelings Of yours are common to me, it affects me.

Prithee, sweet child, change----

_Ida._ Child, indeed! I have Full fifteen summers! [_A bugle sounds_.

_Rod._ Hark, my Lord, the bugle!

_Ida_ (_peevishly to_ RODOLPH).

Why need you tell him that? Can he not hear it Without your echo?

_Rod._ Pardon me, fair Baroness!

_Ida._ I will not pardon you, unless you earn it By aiding me in my dissuasion of Count Ulric from the chase to-day.

_Rod._ You will not, Lady, need aid of mine.

_Ulr._ I must not now 210 Forgo it.

_Ida._ But you shall!

_Ulr._ _Shall!_

_Ida._ Yes, or be No true knight.--Come, dear Ulric! yield to me In this, for this one day: the day looks heavy, And you are turned so pale and ill.

_Ulr._ You jest.

_Ida._ Indeed I do not:--ask of Rodolph.

_Rod._ Truly, My Lord, within this quarter of an hour You have changed more than e'er I saw you change In years.

_Ulr._ 'Tis nothing; but if 'twere, the air Would soon restore me. I'm the true cameleon, And live but on the atmosphere;[196] your feasts 220 In castle halls, and social banquets, nurse not My spirit--I'm a forester and breather Of the steep mountain-tops,[197] where I love all The eagle loves.

_Ida._ Except his prey, I hope.

_Ulr._ Sweet Ida, wish me a fair chase, and I Will bring you six boars' heads for trophies home.

_Ida._ And will you not stay, then? You shall not go!

Come! I will sing to you.

_Ulr._ Ida, you scarcely Will make a soldier's wife.

_Ida._ I do not wish To be so; for I trust these wars are over, 230 And you will live in peace on your domains.

_Enter_ WERNER _as_ COUNT SIEGENDORF.

_Ulr._ My father, I salute you, and it grieves me With such brief greeting.--You have heard our bugle; The va.s.sals wait.

_Sieg._ So let them.--You forget To-morrow is the appointed festival In Prague[198] for peace restored. You are apt to follow The chase with such an ardour as will scarce Permit you to return to-day, or if Returned, too much fatigued to join to-morrow The n.o.bles in our marshalled ranks.

_Ulr._ You, Count, 240 Will well supply the place of both--I am not A lover of these pageantries.

_Sieg._ No, Ulric; It were not well that you alone of all Our young n.o.bility----

_Ida._ And far the n.o.blest In aspect and demeanour.

_Sieg._ (_to_ IDA). True, dear child, Though somewhat frankly said for a fair damsel.-- But, Ulric, recollect too our position, So lately reinstated in our honours.

Believe me, 'twould be marked in any house, But most in _ours_, that ONE should be found wanting 250 At such a time and place. Besides, the Heaven Which gave us back our own, in the same moment It spread its peace o'er all, hath double claims On us for thanksgiving: first, for our country; And next, that we are here to share its blessings.

_Ulr._ (_aside_). Devout, too! Well, sir, I obey at once.

(_Then aloud to a servant_.) Ludwig, dismiss the train without!

[_Exit_ LUDWIG.

_Ida._ And so You yield, at once, to him what I for hours Might supplicate in vain.

_Sieg._ (_smiling_). You are not jealous Of me, I trust, my pretty rebel! who 260 Would sanction disobedience against all Except thyself? But fear not; thou shalt rule him Hereafter with a fonder sway and firmer.

_Ida._ But I should like to govern _now_.

_Sieg._ You shall, Your _harp_, which by the way awaits you with The Countess in her chamber. She complains That you are a sad truant to your music: She attends you.

_Ida._ Then good morrow, my kind kinsmen!

Ulric, you'll come and hear me?

_Ulr._ By and by.

_Ida._ Be sure I'll sound it better than your bugles; 270 Then pray you be as punctual to its notes: I'll play you King Gustavus' march.

_Ulr._ And why not Old Tilly's?

_Ida._ Not that monster's! I should think My harp-strings rang with groans, and not with music, Could aught of _his_ sound on it:--but come quickly; Your mother will be eager to receive you. [_Exit_ IDA.

_Sieg._ Ulric, I wish to speak with you alone.

_Ulr._ My time's your va.s.sal.-- (_Aside to_ RODOLPH.) Rodolph, hence! and do As I directed: and by his best speed And readiest means let Rosenberg reply. 280

_Rod._ Count Siegendorf, command you aught? I am bound Upon a journey past the frontier.