Sarolta. Go, seek your son! I need not add, be speedy— 275
You here, Glycine? [Exit Bathory.
Glycine. Pardon, pardon, Madam!
If you but saw the old man's son, you would not,
You could not have him harmed.
Sarolta. Be calm, Glycine!
Glycine. No, I shall break my heart.
Sarolta. Ha! is it so?
O strange and hidden power of sympathy, 280
That of—like fates, though all unknown to each,
Dost make blind instincts, orphan's heart to orphan's
Drawing by dim disquiet!
Glycine. Old Bathory—
Sarolta. Seeks his brave son. Come, wipe away thy tears.
Yes, in good truth, Glycine, this same Bethlen 285
Seems a most noble and deserving youth.
Glycine. My lady does not mock me?
Sarolta. Where is Laska?
Has he not told thee?
Glycine. Nothing. In his fear—
Anger, I mean—stole off—I am so fluttered—
Left me abruptly—
Sarolta. His shame excuses him! 290
He is somewhat hardly tasked; and in discharging
His own tools, cons a lesson for himself.
Bathory and the youth henceforward live
Safe in my lord's protection.
Glycine. The saints bless you!
[911]
Shame on my graceless heart! How dared I fear, 295
Lady Sarolta could be cruel?
Sarolta. Come,
Be yourself, girl!
Glycine. O, 'tis so full here!
And now it can not harm him if I tell you,
That the old man's son—
Sarolta. Is not that old man's son!
A destiny, not unlike thine own, is his. 300
For all I know of thee is, that thou art
A soldier's orphan: left when rage intestine[911:1]
Shook and engulphed the pillars of Illyria.
This other fragment, thrown back by that same earthquake,
This, so mysteriously inscribed by nature, 305
Perchance may piece out and interpret thine.
Command thyself! Be secret! His true father——
Hear'st thou?
Glycine. O tell—
Bethlen (rushing out). Yes, tell me, Shape from heaven!
Who is my father?
Sarolta (gazing with surprise). Thine? Thy father? Rise!
Glycine. Alas! He hath alarmed you, my dear lady! 310
Sarolta. His countenance, not his act!
Glycine. Rise, Bethlen! Rise!
Bethlen. No; kneel thou too! and with thy orphan's tongue
Plead for me! I am rooted to the earth
And have no power to rise! Give me a father!
There is a prayer in those uplifted eyes 315
That seeks high Heaven! But I will overtake it,
[912]
And bring it back, and make it plead for me
In thine own heart! Speak! Speak! Restore to me
A name in the world!
Sarolta. By that blest Heaven I gazed at,
I know not who thou art. And if I knew, 320
Dared I—But rise!
Bethlen. Blest spirits of my parents,
Ye hover o'er me now! Ye shine upon me!
And like a flower that coils forth from a ruin,
I feel and seek the light I can not see!
Sarolta. Thou see'st yon dim spot on the mountain's ridge, 325
But what it is thou know'st not. Even such
Is all I know of thee—haply, brave youth,
Is all Fate makes it safe for thee to know!
Bethlen. Safe? Safe? O let me then inherit danger,
And it shall be my birth-right!
Sarolta (aside). That look again!— 330
The wood which first incloses, and then skirts
The highest track that leads across the mountains—
Thou know'st it, Bethlen?
Bethlen. Lady, 'twas my wont
To roam there in my childhood oft alone
And mutter to myself the name of father. 335
For still Bathory (why, till now I guessed not)
Would never hear it from my lips, but sighing
Gazed upward. Yet of late an idle terror——
Glycine. Madam, that wood is haunted by the war-wolves,
Vampires, and monstrous——
Sarolta. Moon-calves, credulous girl! 340
Haply some o'ergrown savage of the forest
Hath his lair there, and fear hath framed the rest.
After that last great battle, (O young man!
Thou wakest anew my life's sole anguish) that
Which fixed Lord Emerick on his throne, Bathory 345
Led by a cry, far inward from the track,
In the hollow of an oak, as in a nest,
Did find thee, Bethlen, then a helpless babe.
The robe that wrapt thee was a widow's mantle.
Bethlen. An infant's weakness doth relax my frame. 350
O say—I fear to ask——
Sarolta. And I to tell thee.
[913]Bethlen. Strike! O strike quickly! See, I do not shrink.
I am stone, cold stone.
Sarolta. Hid in a brake hard by,
Scarce by both palms supported from the earth,
A wounded lady lay, whose life fast waning 355
Seemed to survive itself in her fixt eyes,
That strained towards the babe. At length one arm
Painfully from her own weight disengaging,
She pointed first to heaven, then from her bosom
Drew forth a golden casket. Thus entreated 360
Thy foster-father took thee in his arms,
And kneeling spake: 'If aught of this world's comfort
Can reach thy heart, receive a poor man's troth,
That at my life's risk I will save thy child!'
Her countenance worked, as one that seemed preparing 365
A loud voice, but it died upon her lips
In a faint whisper, 'Fly! Save him! Hide—hide all!'
Bethlen. And did he leave her? What! had I a mother?
And left her bleeding, dying? Bought I vile life
With the desertion of a dying mother? 370
Oh agony!
Glycine. Alas! thou art bewildered,
And dost forget thou wert a helpless infant!
Bethlen. What else can I remember, but a mother
Mangled and left to perish?
Sarolta. Hush, Glycine!
It is the ground-swell of a teeming instinct: 375
Let it but lift itself to air and sunshine,
And it will find a mirror in the waters
It now makes boil above it. Check him not!
Bethlen. O that I were diffused among the waters
That pierce into the secret depths of earth, 380
And find their way in darkness! Would that I
Could spread myself upon the homeless winds!
And I would seek her! for she is not dead!
She can not die! O pardon, gracious lady!
You were about to say, that he returned— 385
Sarolta. Deep Love, the godlike in us, still believes
Its objects as immortal as itself!
Bethlen. And found her still—
Sarolta. Alas! he did return,
[914]
He left no spot unsearched in all the forest,
But she (I trust me by some friendly hand) 390
Had been borne off.
Bethlen. O whither?
Glycine. Dearest Bethlen!
I would that you could weep like me! O do not
Gaze so upon the air!
Sarolta. While he was absent,
A friendly troop, 'tis certain, scoured the wood,
Hotly pursued indeed by Emerick.
Bethlen. Emerick. 395
Oh hell!
Glycine. Bethlen!
Bethlen. Hist! I'll curse him in a whisper!
This gracious lady must hear blessings only.
She hath not yet the glory round her head,
Nor those strong eagle wings, which make swift way
To that appointed place, which I must seek; 400
Or else she were my mother!
Sarolta. Noble youth!
From me fear nothing! Long time have I owed
Offerings of expiation for misdeeds
Long past that weigh me down, though innocent!
Thy foster-father hid the secret from thee, 405
For he perceived thy thoughts as they expanded,
Proud, restless, and ill-sorting with thy state!
Vain was his care! Thou'st made thyself suspected
E'en where suspicion reigns, and asks no proof
But its own fears! Great Nature hath endowed thee 410
With her best gifts! From me thou shalt receive
All honourable aidance! But haste hence!
Travel will ripen thee, and enterprise
Beseems thy years! Be thou henceforth my soldier!
And whatsoe'er betide thee, still believe 415
That in each noble deed, achieved or suffered,
Thou solvest best the riddle of thy birth!
And may the light that streams from thine own honour
Guide thee to that thou seekest!
Glycine. Must he leave us?
[915]Bethlen. And for such goodness can I return nothing 420
But some hot tears that sting mine eyes? Some sighs
That if not breathed would swell my heart to stifling?
May heaven and thine own virtues, high-born lady,
Be as a shield of fire, far, far aloof
To scare all evil from thee! Yet, if fate 425
Hath destined thee one doubtful hour of danger,
From the uttermost region of the earth, methinks,
Swift as a spirit invoked, I should be with thee!
And then, perchance, I might have power to unbosom
These thanks that struggle here. Eyes fair as thine 430
Have gazed on me with tears of love and anguish,
Which these eyes saw not, or beheld unconscious;
And tones of anxious fondness, passionate prayers,
Have been talked to me! But this tongue ne'er soothed
A mother's ear, lisping a mother's name! 435
O, at how dear a price have I been loved
And no love could return! One boon then, lady!
Where'er thou bidd'st, I go thy faithful soldier,
But first must trace the spot, where she lay bleeding
Who gave me life. No more shall beast of ravine 440
Affront with baser spoil that sacred forest!
Or if avengers more than human haunt there,
Take they what shape they list, savage or heavenly,
They shall make answer to me, though my heart's blood
Should be the spell to bind them. Blood calls for blood! 445
[Exit Bethlen.
Sarolta. Ah! it was this I feared. To ward off this
Did I withhold from him that old Bathory
Returning hid beneath the self-same oak,
Where the babe lay, the mantle, and some jewel
Bound on his infant arm.
Glycine. Oh, let me fly 450
And stop him! Mangled limbs do there lie scattered
Till the lured eagle bears them to her nest.
And voices have been heard! And there the plant grows
That being eaten gives the inhuman wizard
Power to put on the fell hyæna's shape. 455
Sarolta. What idle tongue hath bewitched thee, Glycine?
I hoped that thou had'st learnt a nobler faith.
Glycine. O chide me not, dear lady; question Laska,
[916]
Or the old man.
Sarolta. Forgive me, I spake harshly.
It is indeed a mighty sorcery 460
That doth enthral thy young heart, my poor girl,
And what hath Laska told thee?
Glycine. Three days past
A courier from the king did cross that wood;
A wilful man, that armed himself on purpose:
And never hath been heard of from that time! 465