The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 158
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Treasure them up, I pray! A certain person, Whom the king flatters with his confidence, Tells you, his royal friend asks startling questions!
'Tis but a hint! And now what says the ghost! 180
_Bethlen._ Listen! for thus it spake: 'Say thou to Laska, Glycine, knowing all thy thoughts engrossed In thy new office of king's fool and knave, Foreseeing thou'lt forget with thine own hand To make due penance for the wrongs thou'st caused her, 185 For thy soul's safety, doth consent to take it From Bethlen's cudgel'--thus. [_Beats him off._ Off! scoundrel! off!
[_LASKA runs away._
_Old Bathory._ The sudden swelling of this shallow dastard Tells of a recent storm: the first disruption Of the black cloud that hangs and threatens o'er us. 190
_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 arched oratory! 195 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! 200 Dear good old man, good-night!
_Old Bathory._ O yet one moment!
What I repelled, when it did seem my own, I cling to, now 'tis parting--call me father!
It can not now mislead thee. O my son, Ere yet our tongues have learnt another name, 205 Bethlen!--say 'Father' to me!
_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, 210 Ask Heaven's blessing from thy lips. My father!
_Bathory._ Go! Go! [_Exit BETHLEN._ May every star now s.h.i.+ning over us, Be as an angel's eye, to watch and guard him! [_Exit BATHORY._
_Scene changes to a splendid Bed-chamber, hung with tapestry._
_SAROLTA and an_ Attendant.
_Attendant._ We all did love her, madam!
_Sarolta._ She deserved it!
Luckless Glycine! rash, unhappy girl! 215 'Twas the first time she e'er deceived me.
_Attendant._ She was in love, and had she not died thus, With grief for Bethlen's loss, and fear of Laska, She would have pined herself to death at home.
_Sarolta._ Has the youth's father come back from his search? 220
_Attendant._ He never will, I fear me. O dear lady!
That Laska did so triumph o'er the old man-- It was quite cruel--'You'll be sure,' said he, 'To meet with part at least of your son Bethlen, Or the war-wolf must have a quick digestion! 225 Go! Search the wood by all means! Go! I pray you!'
_Sarolta._ Inhuman wretch!
_Attendant._ And old Bathory answered With a sad smile, 'It is a witch's prayer, And may Heaven read it backwards.' Though she was rash, 'Twas a small fault for such a punishment! 230
_Sarolta._ Nay! 'twas my grief, and not my anger spoke.
Small fault indeed! but leave me, my poor girl!
I feel a weight that only prayer can lighten.
[_Exit_ Attendant.
O they were innocent, and yet have perished In their May of life; and Vice grows old in triumph. 235 Is it Mercy's hand, that for the bad man holds Life's closing gate?---- Still pa.s.sing thence pet.i.tionary Hours To woo the obdurate spirit to repentance?
Or would this dullness tell me, that there is 240 Guilt too enormous to be duly punished, Save by increase of guilt? The Powers of Evil Are jealous claimants. Guilt too hath its ordeal, And h.e.l.l its own probation!--Merciful Heaven, Rather than this, pour down upon thy suppliant 245 Disease, and agony, and comfortless want!
O send us forth to wander on, unsheltered!
Make our food bitter with despised tears!
Let viperous scorn hiss at us as we pa.s.s!
Yea, let us sink down at our enemy's gate, 250 And beg forgiveness and a morsel of bread!
With all the heaviest worldly visitations Let the dire father's curse that hovers o'er us Work out its dread fulfilment, and the spirit Of wronged Kiuprili be appeased. But only, 255 Only, O merciful in vengeance! let not That plague turn inward on my Casimir's soul!
Scare thence the fiend Ambition, and restore him To his own heart! O save him! Save my husband!
[_During the latter part of this speech EMERICK comes forward from his hiding-place. SAROLTA seeing him, without recognising him._
In such a shape a father's curse should come. 260
_Emerick (advancing)._ Fear not.
_Sarolta._ Who art thou? Robber? Traitor?
_Emerick._ Friend!
Who in good hour hath startled these dark fancies, Rapacious traitors, that would fain depose Joy, love, and beauty, from their natural thrones: Those lips, those angel eyes, that regal forehead. 265
_Sarolta_. Strengthen me, Heaven! I must not seem afraid!
[_Aside._
The king to-night then deigns to play the masker.
What seeks your Majesty?
_Emerick._ Sarolta's love; And Emerick's power lies prostrate at her feet.
_Sarolta._ Heaven guard the sovereign's power from such debas.e.m.e.nt! 270 Far rather, Sire, let it descend in vengeance On the base villain, on the faithless slave Who dared unbar the doors of these retirements!
For whom? Has Casimir deserved this insult?
O my misgiving heart! If--if--from Heaven 275 Yet not from you, Lord Emerick!
_Emerick._ Chiefly from me.
Has he not like an ingrate robbed my court Of Beauty's star, and kept my heart in darkness?
First then on him I will administer justice-- If not in mercy, yet in love and rapture. 280
[_Seizes her._
_Sarolta._ Help! Treason! Help!
_Emerick._ Call louder! Scream again!
Here's none can hear you!
_Sarolta._ Hear me, hear me, Heaven!
_Emerick._ Nay, why this rage? Who best deserves you? Casimir, Emerick's bought implement, the jealous slave That mews you up with bolts and bars? or Emerick 285 Who proffers you a throne? Nay, mine you shall be.
Hence with this fond resistance! Yield; then live This month a widow, and the next a queen!
The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 158
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