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

Laska. Well then! here I stand,
Like Hercules, on either side a goddess. 65
Call this (looking at the purse)
Preferment; this (holding up the key) Fidelity!
And first my golden goddess: what bids she?
[928] Only:—'This way, your Majesty! hush! The household
Are all safe lodged.'—Then, put Fidelity
Within her proper wards, just turn her round— 70
So—the door opens—and for all the rest,
'Tis the king's deed, not Laska's. Do but this
And—'I'm the mere earnest of your future fortunes.'
But what says the other?—Whisper on! I hear you! [Putting the key to his ear.
All very true!—but, good Fidelity! 75
If I refuse King Emerick, will you promise,
And swear now, to unlock the dungeon door,
And save me from the hangman? Aye! you're silent!
What, not a word in answer? A clear nonsuit!
Now for one look to see that all are lodged 80
At the due distance—then—yonder lies the road
For Laska and his royal friend, King Emerick!

Bethlen. He looked as if he were some God disguised
In an old warrior's venerable shape
To guard and guide my mother. Is there not 85
Chapel or oratory in this mansion?

Old Bathory. Even so.

Bethlen. From that place then am I to take
A helm and breast-plate, both inlaid with gold,
And the good sword that once was Raab Kiuprili's.

Old Bathory. Those very arms this day Sarolta show'd me— 90
With wistful look. I'm lost in wild conjectures!

Bethlen. O tempt me not, e'en with a wandering guess,
To break the first command a mother's will
Imposed, a mother's voice made known to me!
'Ask not, my son,' said she, 'our names or thine. 95
The shadow of the eclipse is passing off
The full orb of thy destiny! Already
The victor Crescent glitters forth and sheds
O'er the yet lingering haze a phantom light.
Thou canst not hasten it! Leave then to Heaven 100
The work of Heaven: and with a silent spirit
Sympathize with the powers that work in silence!'
Thus spake she, and she looked as she were then
[929] Fresh from some heavenly vision!

Laska. All asleep!
[Then observing Bethlen, stands in idiot-affright.
I must speak to it first—Put—put the question! 105
I'll confess all! [Stammering with fear.

Old Bathory. Laska! what ails thee, man?

Laska (pointing to Bethlen). There!

Old Bathory. I see nothing! where?

Laska. He does not see it!
Bethlen, torment me not!

Bethlen. Soft! Rouse him gently!
He hath outwatched his hour, and half asleep,
With eyes half open, mingles sight with dreams. 110

Old Bathory. Ho! Laska! Don't you know us! 'tis Bathory
And Bethlen!

Laska. Good now! Ha! ha! An excellent trick.
Afraid? Nay, no offence! But I must laugh.
But are you sure now, that 'tis you, yourself?

Bethlen. Would'st be convinced?

Laska. No nearer, pray! consider! 115
If it should prove his ghost, the touch would freeze me
To a tombstone. No nearer!

Bethlen. The fool is drunk!

Laska. Well now! I love a brave man to my heart.
I myself braved the monster, and would fain
Have saved the false one from the fate she tempted. 120

Old Bathory. You, Laska?

Bethlen (to Bathory). Mark! Heaven grant it may be so!
Glycine?

Laska. She! I traced her by the voice.
You'll scarce believe me, when I say I heard
The close of a song: the poor wretch had been singing:
As if she wished to compliment the war-wolf 125
At once with music and a meal!

Bethlen (to Bathory). Mark that!

Laska. At the next moment I beheld her running,
Wringing her hands with, 'Bethlen! O poor Bethlen!'
I almost fear, the sudden noise I made,
[930] Rushing impetuous through the brake, alarmed her. 130
She stopt, then mad with fear, turned round and ran
Into the monster's gripe. One piteous scream
I heard. There was no second—I—

Bethlen. Stop there!
We'll spare your modesty! Who dares not honour
Laska's brave tongue, and high heroic fancy? 135

Laska. You too, Sir Knight, have come back safe and sound!
You played the hero at a cautious distance!
Or was it that you sent the poor girl forward
To stay the monster's stomach? Dainties quickly
Pall on the taste and cloy the appetite! 140

Old Bathory. Laska, beware! Forget not what thou art!
Should'st thou but dream thou'rt valiant, cross thyself!
And ache all over at the dangerous fancy!

Laska. What then! you swell upon my lady's favour,
High Lords and perilous of one day's growth! 145
But other judges now sit on the bench!
And haply, Laska hath found audience there,
Where to defend the treason of a son
Might end in lifting up both son and father
Still higher; to a height from which indeed 150
You both may drop, but, spite of fate and fortune,
Will be secured from falling to the ground.
'Tis possible too, young man! that royal Emerick,
At Laska's rightful suit, may make inquiry
By whom seduced, the maid so strangely missing— 155

Bethlen. Soft! my good Laska! might it not suffice,
If to yourself, being Lord Casimir's steward,
I should make record of Glycine's fate?

Laska. 'Tis well! it shall content me! though your fear
Has all the credit of these lowered tones. 160
First we demand the manner of her death?

Bethlen. Nay! that's superfluous! Have you not just told us,
That you yourself, led by impetuous valour,
Witnessed the whole? My tale's of later date.
After the fate, from which your valour strove 165
In vain to rescue the rash maid, I saw her!

Laska. Glycine?

Bethlen. Nay! Dare I accuse wise Laska,
Whose words find access to a monarch's ear,
[931] Of a base, braggart lie? It must have been
Her spirit that appeared to me. But haply 170
I come too late? It has itself delivered
Its own commission to you?

Old Bathory. 'Tis most likely!
And the ghost doubtless vanished, when we entered
And found brave Laska staring wide—at nothing!

Laska. 'Tis well! You've ready wits! I shall report them, 175
With all due honour, to his Majesty!
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!

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
[932] 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.

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
[933]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.

[934]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
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!

Sarolta. Yet, yet for one brief moment [Struggling.
Unhand me, I conjure you.

[She throws him off, and rushes towards a toilet. Emerick follows, and as she takes a dagger, he grasps it in her hand.

Emerick. Ha! Ha! a dagger; 290
A seemly ornament for a lady's casket!
'Tis held, devotion is akin to love,
But yours is tragic! Love in war! It charms me,
And makes your beauty worth a king's embraces!

Bethlen. Ruffian, forbear! Turn, turn and front my sword! 295

Emerick. Pish! who is this?

Sarolta. O sleepless eye of Heaven!
A blest, a blessed spirit! Whence camest thou?
May I still call thee Bethlen?

Bethlen. Ever, lady,
[935] Your faithful soldier!

Emerick. Insolent slave! Depart
Know'st thou not me?

Bethlen. I know thou art a villain 300
And coward! That thy devilish purpose marks thee!
What else, this lady must instruct my sword!

Sarolta. Monster, retire! O touch him not, thou blest one!
This is the hour that fiends and damnéd spirits
Do walk the earth, and take what form they list! 305
Yon devil hath assumed a king's!

Bethlen. Usurped it!

Emerick. The king will play the devil with thee indeed!
But that I mean to hear thee howl on the rack,
I would debase this sword, and lay thee prostrate
At this thy paramour's feet; then drag her forth 310
Stained with adulterous blood, and—
—mark you, traitress!
Strumpeted first, then turned adrift to beggary!
Thou prayed'st for't too.

Sarolta. Thou art so fiendish wicked,
That in thy blasphemies I scarce hear thy threats!

Bethlen. Lady, be calm! fear not this king of the buskin! 315
A king? Oh laughter! A king Bajazet!
That from some vagrant actor's tiring-room,
Hath stolen at once his speech and crown!

Emerick. Ah! treason!
Thou hast been lessoned and tricked up for this!
As surely as the wax on thy death-warrant 320
Shall take the impression of this royal signet,
So plain thy face hath ta'en the mask of rebel!

Bethlen. It must be so! 'Tis e'en the counterpart!
But with a foul usurping cypher on it!
The light hath flashed from Heaven, and I must follow it! 325
O curst usurper! O thou brother-murderer!
That mad'st a star-bright queen a fugitive widow!
Who fill'st the land with curses, being thyself
All curses in one tyrant! see and tremble!
[936] This is Kiuprili's sword that now hangs o'er thee! 330
Kiuprili's blasting curse, that from its point
Shoots lightnings at thee. Hark! in Andreas' name,
Heir of his vengeance, hell-hound! I defy thee.

[They fight, and just as Emerick is disarmed, in rush Casimir, Old Bathory, and Attendants. Casimir runs in between the combatants, and parts them; in the struggle Bethlen's sword is thrown down.

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