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 shining over us,
Be as an angel’s eye, to watch and guard him! [Exit BATHORY.
Scene changes to a splendid Bedchamber, 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 passing thence petitionary 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 Hell 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 despiséd tears!
Let viperous scorn hiss at us as we pass!
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
debasement! 270
Far rather, Sire, let it descend in vengeance
On the base villain, on the faithless slave