Been wedded to the noblest of the realm,
So beautiful besides, and yet so stately-

Sar. Hush! innocent flatterer!

Nay! to my poor fancy
The royal court would seem an earthly heaven,
Made for such stars to shine in, and be gracious.

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

maypole, For we danced round it. ti

Ah, Glycine! why, Why did you then betroth yourself?

Because *

own dear lady wished it! 'twas you asked me ! Sar. 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.

Gly. Oh, yes! It is a wife's chief duty, madam, * To stand in awe of her husband, and obey him,

And, I am sure, I never shall see Laska
But I shall tremble.

Not with fear, I think,
For you still mock him. Bring a seat from the

[Exit Glycine into the cot


Gly. My




tage, Sarolta continues her speech looking after

her. Something above thy rank there hangs about thee, 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, 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.

Re-enter Glycine. Gly. Oh, madam! there's a party of your serAnd my lord's steward, Laska, at their head, [vants, 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 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 Sar.

Be calm, Glycine. Enter Laska and Servants with Old Bathory. Las. (to Bathory.) We have no concern with

you! What needs your presence ? 0. Bat. What! Do you think I'll suffer my brave


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. Sar.

Laska! What may this mean?
Las. Madam! and may it please your ladyship!
This old man's son, by name Bethlen Bathory,
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-

Sar. Be brief! We know his titles !

And moreover
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,
And trampled it in scorn.
Sar. (to the servants who offer to speak.) You have

had your spokesman !
Where is the young man thus accused ?
0, Bat.

I know not:
But if no ill betide him on the mountains,
He will not long be absent !

Thou art his father?
0. Bat. 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-

Yes! good old man!
My lady! pray believe him!

Hush, Glycine !
Be silent I command you.

[then to Bathory.

Speak! we hear you! 0. Bat. My tale is brief. During our festive dance, Your servants, the accusers of my son, Offered gross insults, in unmanly sort, To our village maidens. He, (could he do less ?) Rose in defence of outraged modesty, And so persuasive did his cudgel prove, (Your bectoring sparks, so over brave to women Are always cowards) that they soon took flight, And now in mere revenge, like baffled boasters, Have framed this tale, out of some hasty words Which their own threats provoked. Sar.

Old man! you talk Too bluntly! Did your son owe no respect To the livery of our house? 0. Bat.

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

Las. Old insolent ruffian !

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

What! Glycine ? go, retire !

(Erit 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
Denied you? or free audience? or are we
Weak and unfit to punish our own servants ?
0. Bat. 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
While he goes ask their master, if perchance
His leisure serve to scourge them from their ravage ?
Las. Ho! Take the rude clown from your lady's

I will report her further will !

Wait then,
Till thou hast learnt it! Fervent good old man!
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

Those rioters are no longer of my household !
If we but shake a dew-drop from a rose,
In vain would we replace it, and as vainly
Restore the tear of wounded modesty
To a maiden's eye familiarized to license.
But these men, Laska-
Las. (aside.)

Yes, now 'tis coming. Sar. Brutal aggressors first, then baffled dastards, That they have sought to piece out their revenge

« 前へ次へ »