The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, (1 and 2), by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Between the flight of the Queen, and the civil war which immediately followed, and in which Emerick remained the victor, a space of twenty years is supposed to have elapsed.

USURPATION ENDED; OR, SHE COMES AGAIN

ACT I

Scene I

A Mountainous Country. Bathory's Dwelling at the end of the Stage. Enter Lady Sarolta and Glycine.

Glycine. Well then! our round of charity is finished.
Rest, Madam! You breathe quick.

Sarolta. What, tired, Glycine?
No delicate court-dame, but a mountaineer
By choice no less than birth, I gladly use
The good strength Nature gave me.

Glycine. That last cottage 5
Is built as if an eagle or a raven
Had chosen it for her nest.

Sarolta. So many are
The sufferings which no human aid can reach,
It needs must be a duty doubly sweet
To heal the few we can. Well! let us rest. 10

Glycine. There? [Pointing to Bathory's dwelling.

Sarolta. Here! For on this spot Lord Casimir
Took his last leave. On yonder mountain-ridge
I lost the misty image which so long
Lingered, or seemed at least to linger on it.

[902]Glycine. And what if even now, on that same ridge, 15
A speck should rise, and still enlarging, lengthening,
As it clomb downwards, shape itself at last
To a numerous cavalcade, and spurring foremost,
Who but Sarolta's own dear lord returned
From his high embassy?

Sarolta. Thou hast hit my thought! 20
All the long day, from yester-morn to evening,
The restless hope fluttered about my heart.
Oh we are querulous creatures! Little less
Than all things can suffice to make us happy;
And little more than nothing is enough 25
To discontent us.—Were he come, then should I
Repine he had not arrived just one day earlier
To keep his birth-day here, in his own birth-place.

Glycine. But our best sports belike, and gay processions
Would to my lord have seemed but work-day sights 30
Compared with those the royal court affords.

Sarolta. I have small wish to see them. A spring morning
With its wild gladsome minstrelsy of birds
And its bright jewelry of flowers and dew-drops
(Each orbéd drop an orb of glory in it) 35
Would put them all in eclipse. This sweet retirement
Lord Casimir's wish alone would have made sacred:
But, in good truth, his loving jealousy
Did but command, what I had else entreated.

Glycine. And yet had I been born Lady Sarolta, 40
Been wedded to the noblest of the realm,
So beautiful besides, and yet so stately——

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. 45

Sarolta. So doth the ignorant distance still delude us!
Thy fancied heaven, dear girl, like that above thee,
In its mere self cold, drear, colourless void,
Seen from below and in the large, becomes
The bright blue ether, and the seat of gods! 50
Well! but this broil that scared you from the dance?
And was not Laska there: he, your betrothed?

Glycine. Yes, madam! he was there. So was the maypole,
For we danced round it.

Sarolta. Ah, Glycine! why,
[903]Why did you then betroth yourself?

Glycine. Because 55
My own dear lady wished it! 'twas you asked me!

Sarolta. Yes, at my lord's request, but never wished,
My poor affectionate girl, to see thee wretched.
Thou knowest not yet the duties of a wife.

Glycine. Oh, yes! It is a wife's chief duty, madam! 60
To stand in awe of her husband, and obey him,
And, I am sure, I never shall see Laska
But I shall tremble.

Sarolta. Not with fear, I think,
For you still mock him. Bring a seat from the cottage.
[Exit Glycine into the cottage, Sarolta continues her speech looking after her.
Something above thy rank there hangs about thee, 65
And in thy countenance, thy voice, and motion,
Yea, e'en in thy simplicity, Glycine,
A fine and feminine grace, that makes me feel
More as a mother than a mistress to thee!
Thou art a soldier's orphan! that—the courage, 70
Which rising in thine eye, seems oft to give
A new soul to its gentleness, doth prove thee!
Thou art sprung too of no ignoble blood,
Or there's no faith in instinct! [Angry voices and clamour within.

Glycine. Oh, madam! there's a party of your servants, 75
And my lord's steward, Laska, at their head,
Have come to search for old Bathory's son,
Bethlen, that brave young man! 'twas he, my lady,
That took our parts, and beat off the intruders,
And in mere spite and malice, now they charge him 80
With bad words of Lord Casimir and the king.
Pray don't believe them, madam! This way! This way!
Lady Sarolta's here.— [Calling without.

Sarolta. Be calm, Glycine.

Laska (to Bathory). We have no concern with you! What needs your presence?

Old Bathory. What! Do you think I'll suffer my brave boy 85
[904] To be slandered by a set of coward-ruffians,
And leave it to their malice,—yes, mere malice!—
To tell its own tale? [Laska and Servants bow to Lady Sarolta.

Sarolta. Laska! What may this mean?

Laska. Madam! and may it please your ladyship!
This old man's son, by name Bethlen Bathory, 90
Stands charged, on weighty evidence, that he,
On yester-eve, being his lordship's birth-day,
Did traitorously defame Lord Casimir:
The lord high steward of the realm, moreover——

Sarolta. Be brief! We know his titles!

Laska. And moreover 95
Raved like a traitor at our liege King Emerick.
And furthermore, said witnesses make oath,
Led on the assault upon his lordship's servants;
Yea, insolently tore, from this, your huntsman,
His badge of livery of your noble house, 100
And trampled it in scorn.

Sarolta (to the Servants who offer to speak). You have had your spokesman!
Where is the young man thus accused?

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? 105

Old Bathory. None ever with more reason prized a son;
Yet I hate falsehood more than I love him.
But more than one, now in my lady's presence,
Witnessed the affray, besides these men of malice;
And if I swerve from truth——

Glycine. Yes! good old man! 110
My lady! pray believe him!

Sarolta. Hush, Glycine
Be silent, I command you. [Then to Bathory.
Speak! we hear you!

Old Bathory. My tale is brief. During our festive dance,
Your servants, the accusers of my son,
Offered gross insults, in unmanly sort, 115
To our village maidens. He (could he do less?)
Rose in defence of outraged modesty,
And so persuasive did his cudgel prove,
[905] (Your hectoring sparks so over-brave to women
Are always cowards) that they soon took flight, 120
And now in mere revenge, like baffled boasters,
Have framed this tale, out of some hasty words
Which their own threats provoked.

Sarolta. Old man! you talk
Too bluntly! Did your son owe no respect
To the livery of our house?

Old Bathory. Even such respect 125
As the sheep's skin should gain for the hot wolf
That hath begun to worry the poor lambs!

Laska. Old insolent ruffian!

Glycine. Pardon! pardon, madam!
I saw the whole affray. The good old man
Means no offence, sweet lady!—You, yourself, 130
Laska! know well, that these men were the ruffians!
Shame on you!

Sarolta. What! Glycine? Go, retire! [Exit Glycine.
Be it then that these men faulted. Yet yourself,
Or better still belike the maidens' parents,
Might have complained to us. Was ever access 135
Denied you? Or free audience? Or are we
Weak and unfit to punish our own servants?

Old Bathory. So then! So then! Heaven grant an old man patience!
And must the gardener leave his seedling plants,
Leave his young roses to the rooting swine 140
While he goes ask their master, if perchance
His leisure serve to scourge them from their ravage?

Laska. Ho! Take the rude clown from your lady's presence!
I will report her further will!

Sarolta. Wait then,
Till thou hast learnt it! Fervent good old man! 145
Forgive me that, to try thee, I put on
A face of sternness, alien to my meaning! [Then speaks to the Servants.
Hence! leave my presence! and you, Laska! mark me!
Those rioters are no longer of my household!
If we but shake a dewdrop from a rose 150
In vain would we replace it, and as vainly
Restore the tear of wounded modesty
[906] To a maiden's eye familiarized to licence.—
But these men, Laska—

Laska (aside). Yes, now 'tis coming.

Sarolta. Brutal aggressors first, then baffled dastards, 155
That they have sought to piece out their revenge
With a tale of words lured from the lips of anger
Stamps them most dangerous; and till I want
Fit means for wicked ends, we shall not need
Their services. Discharge them! You, Bathory! 160
Are henceforth of my household! I shall place you
Near my own person. When your son returns,
Present him to us!

Old Bathory. Ha! what strangers here!
[906:1]What business have they in an old man's eye?
Your goodness, lady—and it came so sudden— 165
I can not—must not—let you be deceived.
I have yet another tale, but— [Then to Sarolta aside.
not for all ears!

Sarolta. I oft have passed your cottage, and still praised
Its beauty, and that trim orchard-plot, whose blossoms
The gusts of April showered aslant its thatch. 170
Come, you shall show it me! And, while you bid it
Farewell, be not ashamed that I should witness
The oil of gladness glittering on the water
Of an ebbing grief. [Bathory shows her into his cottage.

Laska (alone). Vexation! baffled! school'd!
Ho! Laska! wake! why? what can all this mean? 175
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 seat. Glycine peeps in.

Glycine. Laska! Laska!
Is my lady gone?

Laska. Gone.

[907]Glycine. Have you yet seen him? 180
Is he returned? [Laska starts up.
Has the seat stung you, Laska?

Laska. No, serpent! no; 'tis you that sting me; you!
What! you would cling to him again?

Glycine. Whom?

Laska. Bethlen! Bethlen!
Yes; gaze as if your very eyes embraced him! 185
Ha! you forget the scene of yesterday!
Mute ere he came, but then—Out on your screams,
And your pretended fears!

Glycine. Your fears, at least,
Were real, Laska! or your trembling limbs
And white cheeks played the hypocrites most vilely! 190

Laska. I fear! whom? what?

Glycine. I know what I should fear,
Were I in Laska's place.

Laska. What?

Glycine. My own conscience,
For having fed my jealousy and envy
With a plot, made out of other men's revenges,
Against a brave and innocent young man's life! 195
Yet, yet, pray tell me!

Laska. You will know too soon.

Glycine. Would I could find my lady! though she chid me—
Yet this suspense— [Going.

Laska. Stop! stop! one question only—
I am quite calm—

Glycine. Ay, as the old song says,
Calm as a tiger, valiant as a dove. 200
Nay now, I have marred the verse: well! this one question—

Laska. Are you not bound to me by your own promise?
And is it not as plain—

Glycine. Halt! that's two questions.

Laska. Pshaw! Is it not as plain as impudence,
That you're in love with this young swaggering beggar, 205
Bethlen Bathory? When he was accused,
Why pressed you forward? Why did you defend him?

Glycine. Question meet question: that's a woman's privilege,
[908] Why, Laska, did you urge Lord Casimir
To make my lady force that promise from me? 210

Laska. So then, you say, Lady Sarolta, forced you?

Glycine. Could I look up to her dear countenance,
And say her nay? As far back as I wot of
All her commands were gracious, sweet requests.
How could it be then, but that her requests 215
Must needs have sounded to me as commands?
And as for love, had I a score of loves,
I'd keep them all for my dear, kind, good mistress.

Laska. Not one for Bethlen?

Glycine. Oh! that's a different thing.
To be sure he's brave, and handsome, and so pious 220
To his good old father. But for loving him—
Nay, 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, 225
And my heart beats; and all because I dreamt
That the war-wolf [908:1] had gored him as he hunted
In the haunted forest!

Laska. You dare own all this?
Your lady will not warrant promise-breach.
Mine, pampered Miss! you shall be; and I'll make you 230
Grieve for him with a vengeance. Odd's, my fingers
Tingle already! [Makes threatening signs.

Glycine (aside). Ha! Bethlen coming this way! [Glycine then cries out.
Oh, save me! save me! Pray don't kill me, Laska!

Part II

THE SEQUEL, ENTITLED 'THE USURPER'S FATE'

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERS

USURPATION ENDED; OR, SHE COMES AGAIN

ACT I

Scene I