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Enter Zapolya and Andreas royally attired with

Glycine.
Con.

Comes she from heaven to bless us?
Other Con. It is! it is!
Zap.

Heaven's work of grace is full !
Kiuprili, thou art safe !
R. Kiu.

Royal Zapolya! To the heavenly powers pay we our duty first; Who not alone preserved thee, but for thee And for our country, the one precious branch Of Andreas' royal house. O countrymen, Behold your king! and thank our country's genius, That the same means which has preserved our sove

reign, Has likewise reared him worthier of the throne By virtue than by birth. The undoubted proofs Pledged by his royal mother, and this old man, (Whose name henceforth be dear to all Illyrians) We haste to lay before the assembled council.

All. Hail, Andreas! Hail, Illyria's rightful king! And. Supported thus, O friends! 'twere cowardice Unworthy of a royal birth, to shrink From the appointed charge. Yet, while we wait The awful sanction of convened Illyria, In this brief while, O let me feel myself The child, the friend, the debtor!-heroic mother:But what can breath add to that sacred name? Kiuprili! gift of Providence, to teach us That loyalty is but the public form Of the sublimest friendship, let my youth

Climb round thee, as the vine around its elm;
Thou my support and I thy faithful fruitage.
My heart is full, and these poor words express not;
They are but an art to check its overswelling.
Bathory! shrink not from my filial arms!
Now, and from henceforth thou shalt not forbid me
To call thee father! And dare I forget
The powerful intercession of thy virtue,
Lady Sarolta! Still acknowledge me
Thy faithful soldier !-But what invocation
Shall my full soul address to thee, Glycine ?
Thou sword that leap'dst forth from a bed of roses,-
Thou falcon-hearted dove ?
Zap.

Hear that from me, son !
For ere she lived, her father saved thy life,
Thine, and thy fugitive mother's !
Cas.

Chef Ragozzi! O shame upon my head! I would have given her To a base slave! Zap.

Heaven overruled thy purpose, And sent an angel to thy house to guard her! Thou precious bark! freighted with all our treasures, The sports of tempests, and yet ne'er the victim, How many may claim salvage in thee!

Take her, son! A queen that brings with her a richer dowry Than orient kings can give! Sar.

A banquet waits ! On this auspicious day, for some few hours I claim to be your hostess. Scenes so awful

22

VOL. II.

With flashing light, force wisdom on us all!
E'en women at the distaff hence may see,
That bad men may rebel, but ne'er be free;
May whisper, when the waves of faction foam,
None love their country, but who love their home;
For freedom can with those alone abide,
Who wear the golden chain, with honest pride,
Of love and duty, at their own fire-side:
While mad ambition ever doth caress
Its own sure fate, in its own restlesspess!

THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE;

AN HISTORICAL DRAMA.

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