SCENE I.—An Ante-chamber in the House ofVan Maurice.
EnterBaron HartmanandMargaret, by different sides.
HARTMAN.
Good morning, fair Margaret! I come to have the felicity of half an hour's conversation with Rosella. I hope this will prove to her, as well as myself, the most agreeable way of receiving an answer to the billet which I had the honour to send her this morning.
MARGARET.
Indeed, honoured Sir, she is in no spirits to receive company at present, and wishes to be alone.
HARTMAN.
Ha! she is considering of it then. It is indeed a serious consideration; but after the favour—I may indeed call it so—the condescension at least with which she has received my devoted attentions, I might fairly have supposed that a short time would have sufficed for the ceremony of consideration.
MARGARET.
I believe, Baron, that ceremony, as you are pleased to term it, has been gone through already. At least, I believe, this billet which she desired me to put into your own hands, along with this case of jewels, will convince you that further consideration were needless. I was just going to your house to deliver them to you.
HARTMAN.
What does she mean? return my present!
MARGARET.
The letter will, no doubt, explain it.
HARTMAN (snatches the letter, opens it with agitation, reading it half aloud and half to himself).
"Only friendship to return for all.—Pleasure in your society as a neighbour and a kinsman.—Beg of you to accept my grateful acknowledgments." What is all this? Would she prolong the fooling of attendance another half year? Let her beware how she sports with devoted affection like mine. (Walks to and fro somewhat disturbed, then returns toMargaret.) I understand all this well enough. Let me find her in her own apartment.
MARGARET (preventing him as he endeavours to pass on).
Nay, Sir, you must not.
HARTMAN.
Foolish girl! I know thy fair friend better than thou dost. Let me pass to her apartment, and I'll soon make her glowing lips contradict the cold words of her letter.
MARGARET.
Indeed, Baron Hartman, you must not pass.
HARTMAN.
Why so? Nonsensical mummery!
MARGARET.
She wishes to be alone.
HARTMAN.
Alone! wishes to be alone! that is not her usual inclination. What is the matter?
MARGARET.
She is indisposed, and can see no one. And I must take the liberty to say that you are deluding yourself when you mistake that cheerful gaiety of her manner, which is natural to her, for a proof of partiality to your company.
HARTMAN.
If what you say be true, young mistress,—if this answer of hers be a serious one, I have not deluded myself, but she has deluded me.
MARGARET.
Then every pleasant man of her acquaintance might say the same thing, for she is cheerful and affable with them all.
HARTMAN.
No, madam; affable and cheerful as you please, but she has not demeaned herself towards them as she has done towards me: and I will know the cause why I am so treated, before another hour passes over my head. (Going.)
MARGARET.
But you will be pleased to take this with you, Baron. (Offering him the case of jewels, which he casts from him indignantly.)
HARTMAN.
Let any jilt in Lubeck wear the paltry baubles for me.[Exit.
MARGARET (alone).
The vanity of that man is unconquerable; and yet I cannot help pitying him a little; for Rosella, to conceal her betrothment to Claudien, has amused herself with his folly too long. (Picking up the case.) I must keep these rich jewels carefully, however, and restore them to him at a more favourable moment.[Exit.
SCENE II.
The Apartment ofRosella. She is discovered sitting by a table writing, andClaudienstanding behind her chair, overlooking her as she writes.
CLAUDIEN.
That pretty hand, and those fair characters
So delicate! they should alone express
Words of a sweet and sisterly affection,—
Words of the dearer tenderness of love.
Have done with cold notes of formality;
Let Marg'ret henceforth write such things as those.
(Lifting her hand from the paper and caressing it.)
No, this white hand, this soft, this delicate hand,
As delicate as if the early dew
Dropp'd from the lily's bell or hawthorn's blossom,
A fresh collection of all summer sweetness,
Had been its daily unguent, it is mine;
Thou'st given it to me; ay, and it shall write
To me, to me alone, when I am gone.
ROSELLA.
A wise precaution, mask'd with seeming love.
When I shall think of nobody but thee,
I might, perhaps, betray our secret bond,
Beginning thus to some old gouty kinsman
A dull epistle—"My dear Claudien."
CLAUDIEN.
Alas, that secret, that constraining secret!
It is a galling weight about our necks,
Would we were rid of it!
ROSELLA.
But when the king of Denmark, thy good master,
Shall know how thou art circumstanced, he surely
Will not enforce upon thee an alliance
Unsought by thee, now thought of with repugnance,
Because he did at first, on thy behalf
Propose it to the parent of the maid,—
A maid thou'st scarcely seen, and never woo'd?
CLAUDIEN.
I trust he will not, and should lose no time
In reaching Copenhagen ere the court
Remove to Elsineur, that speedily
I may return to thee, my sweet Rosella,
A free and happy man.
ROSELLA.
A free man, say'st thou, Claudien?
CLAUDIEN.
Yes, gentle mistress, for the bonds of love
Are very freedom, or are something better.
Still, to protect thee from all harm, to be
Near to thee always; sit by thee unchidden—
Read to thee pleasant tales—look in thy face,
And, all thy smiles and meaning glances scanning,
To do what they desire—will this be thraldom?
Will this be servitude?
ROSELLA.
Ah, no! that is not servitude from which,
When tired of it, thou wilt break loose, my friend.
CLAUDIEN.
And so I will, my love, when thou art tiresome,
But when will that be; say?
ROSELLA.
E'en when thou see'st what thou may'st shortly find,
A face to gaze on, fairer than Rosella's.
CLAUDIEN.
Be not offended; such a one already
I've seen, and yet the latchet of thy shoe
I'd rather tie and have one smile of thanks,
Than press a score of kisses on her lips.
ROSELLA.
She may be also wittier than me.
CLAUDIEN.
And pardon me again; that may be possible;
Yet would I rather hear thy cheerful voice
Bidding me a good morrow, faith and truth!
Than all her wit and wisdom, were she learn'd
As Gottenburgh professor.
ROSELLA.
Fy on thee, Claudien! Would'st thou then insinuate
That I am not thy reasonable choice,
But one that has been fasten'd on thy fancy
By spells of witchcraft?
CLAUDIEN.
Thou hast it, love; by very spells of witchcraft;
For how could that be reasonable choice
Which no deliberation knew. Thy countenance,
Such as it is—thy joyous playful countenance,
I look'd upon, and look'd upon again,
Till I became a fascinated thing,
As helpless as an infant.
ROSELLA.
Alas, poor child! this was a sudden change.
CLAUDIEN.
Nay, I am wrong; it was not quite so sudden;
For after I had seen thy face, I waited—
Waited with eager ears to hear thy voice,
And then I watch'd thee to observe thy movements.
Light step and graceful gesture—then I waited
To hear thy voice again, and then—
ROSELLA.
I pray thee
Have done with such a foolish list of thens!
Dost thou forget thou hast already won me?
I'll have thee presently, I do suppose,
Repeating all thy courtship o'er again,
And kneeling at my feet for perfect idleness.
CLAUDIEN.
And so thou shalt, were't only for the pleasure
Of being raised again by that white hand.
(Kneeling to her playfully.)
ROSELLA (laying her hand upon his head).
It will not raise thee up, thou saucy mimic!
But keep thee down, for this thy mock humility,
Which is but vanity in cloak and vizard;
The bearing of success without misgiving
Or fear of change; the full security
Of an affianced lord.
EnterBaron Hartmanbehind.
CLAUDIEN.
To keep me down,
Whilst thy soft fingers, mixing with my hair,
Gives thrilling so delightful! on such terms,
I'd gladly at thy feet kneel by the hour,
So to be mortified——
HARTMAN (rushing forward).
Oh, woman, woman!
[Claudienstarts up from the feet of his Mistress, and both seem surprised and embarrassed.]
ROSELLA.
Baron Hartman here!
HARTMAN.
Yes, madam; and, as I perceive, not altogether welcome.
ROSELLA.
In this place and at this hour, Baron!
HARTMAN.
An injured man, madam, regards not time or place. As a near kinsman, had there been no other plea, I might have been admitted for one half hour into your presence, to know the cause why, after such long and well-received attentions, I am now to be discarded from your favour. But this, forsooth, could not be: you were indisposed; you were alone, and wished to be alone. I have, no doubt, grievously offended in breaking thus upon the privacy of one who loves so very much to be alone.
CLAUDIEN.
Truly, Baron, I have, like yourself, come unbidden into this lady's presence, and have cast myself at her feet, as you have witnessed; for which humiliation she has only rewarded me with mocking: had you done the same, Baron, you would, perhaps, have fared no better.
HARTMAN.
Count Claudien, the freedom of a careless stranger may be some excuse for your intrusion here, but can be none for her excluding me on pretences so frivolous; for the alleged indisposition is, I perceive, only the being indisposed for my company, who am an old and faithful friend; ay, and her kinsman to boot.
CLAUDIEN.
My noble baron, you and I are rivals, and rest our pretensions here on very different foundations; you on being known to the lady, I on the reverse. But I am the wiser of the two.
HARTMAN.
How so, I pray?
CLAUDIEN.
Is it not a notorious fact, that strangers of any apparent likelihood always occupy the vantage ground in every woman's favour? Had the fair Rosella known me as long as she has known you, she might have discovered in me as many faults, perhaps, as would have excluded me from the very threshold of her vestibule.
ROSELLA.
So you see, my dear cousin, that the wisest thing you can do, is to leave the count and me time enough to discover how foolish we both are.
HARTMAN.
The wisest thing I can do, madam, is to forget and despise the heartless caprice of a fickle, fantastical beauty.
ROSELLA.
Be wise, then, good cousin, since you have found out the way.
HARTMAN.
Heartless woman! canst thou treat with such levity the misery thou hast occasioned?
ROSELLA.
O pardon me, my dear Hartman! thou takest this matter more deeply than I dreamt of. Think not so severely of me; if I have erred, lend me of thine own generosity some further credit on thy good opinion, and I will redeem it. Have you not always known me as your gay and thoughtless cousin? and why will you tax me now as a grave and prudent dame? Come to me to-morrow; I shall then have seen my brother, and will talk to you seriously on a subject which to-day I would avoid.
HARTMAN.
At what hour shall I meet you?
ROSELLA.
Not at an early hour.—At noon.—No, not so soon.—In the afternoon—in the evening: that will suit me best.
HARTMAN.
Well, since it must be deferred so long, let the evening be the time. But remember, madam, I will submit no longer to be the sport of female caprice. If this gay stranger takes such treatment more lightly, he is of a different temperament, perhaps, and it may agree with him; but it will not pass with Baron Hartman.
[Exit, proudly.
CLAUDIEN.
My dear Rosella! I fear thou hast been leading on this poor man in a fool's chase. I pity him.
ROSELLA.
I fear I have, and do repent me of it.
CLAUDIEN.
It was but the foible of thy gay and thoughtless nature.
ROSELLA.
Ah no! I fear I have not that excuse.
CLAUDIEN.
Intentional deceit!
ROSELLA.
Dearest Claudien! kill me not with that word and that look! It was to conceal my connection with thee, that I have of late received the gallantries of Hartman with more than usual graciousness; but it was to deceive the world rather than himself. Fool that I was!
CLAUDIEN.
Yes, it was foolish.
ROSELLA.
But though I might have guessed that his inordinate vanity would construe my behaviour into downright love of his fine form and mental endowments, I never imagined he would feel more pain in the disappointment than a little wounded vanity might inflict, nor am I sure that he really feels more deeply.
CLAUDIEN.
I fear thou dost him wrong. I pity him from my heart; and were it possible for me to chide what is so dear, I should inflict upon thee, at this moment, words of grave rebuke.
ROSELLA.
Nay, not now, dear Claudien! reserve them till thy return, for then I shall be so happy that they will sound in my ear like harmony. I cannot bear them now. (Weeping.)
CLAUDIEN.
Nay, nay, mistress of my soul! I meant not to distress thee so much. Those tears are a greater punishment to me than I can bear. And let me wipe them off,—kiss them off. Thou shalt never shed tears again for Claudien's sternness.
EnterMargaret.
ROSELLA.
What is the matter?
MARGARET.
Nothing; I am only come to inform the Count that the master of the vessel is below, and wishes to know his will concerning the removal of his luggage.
CLAUDIEN.
Ha! very true; I should have waited for him at home, and it slipt from my memory entirely. Keep thee from being in love, fair Margaret, it makes one's head not worth a maravedi.
MARGARET.
But the heart finds what the head loses, and where is the waste?
CLAUDIEN.
True, girl; and be pleasant and amusing to thy friend here, while I am absent.[Exit.
ROSELLA.
My dear Margaret, didst thou see Hartman when he left the house?
MARGARET.
Only a glimpse of him.
ROSELLA.
Did he look very miserable?
MARGARET.
I do think he did, poor man; but he is so vain, he will be the better for his mortification.
ROSELLA.
I thank thee, Margaret; it does me good to hear thee say so; for I know that thy thoughts and thy words are the same.
MARGARET.
Come along, my dear child, and I will tell thee a new story of his consummate conceit as we go: sha'n't we take our usual turn on the terrace?[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Public Garden.
EnterHartman, walking backward and forward in a perturbed manner, and presently enterKranzberg, who stands observing him curiously before he speaks.
KRANZBERG.
Good morning, kinsman; nothing, I hope, has happened to disturb you: I have marked you at a distance, striding along with a quick unusual pace: pardon the solicitude of friendship, if I am anxious to know what discomposes you so much.
HARTMAN.
Let it pass, let it pass! I know my place and my pretensions as well as any man; she shall neither break my heart nor discompose me long.
KRANZBERG.
It is a woman, then, who is the cause of your agitation. What kind of woman can she be who is unfavourable to the suit of Baron Hartman?
HARTMAN.
Thou may'st well ask that question, my friend; it would, I believe, cause some surprise in many a noble citizen of Lubeck.
KRANZBERG.
In many a noble lady of Lubeck we may, at least, aver, though strange unnatural things will sometimes happen, as if by witchery. But let her have her way; she will be glad enough at last to bring you back to her toils again by humble submission, if you will have spirit enough to forswear her company for a time.
HARTMAN.
A time!
KRANZBERG.
Ay, some weeks or so.
HARTMAN.
Perhaps thou art right. I had good reason to believe my company was agreeable to her. But—but——
KRANZBERG.
Out with it, Baron! you cannot question my friendship or secrecy, and perhaps I may be of use to you.
HARTMAN.
This cousin of mine——
KRANZBERG.
What, the fair Rosella; she is the culprit!—I had almost guessed as much.
HARTMAN.
But thou canst not guess the excess of her fickleness.
KRANZBERG.
I will not attempt it, for you shall tell me.
HARTMAN.
She denied me access to her presence this very morning, on the pretence of being unwell, and wishing to be alone; and when I made my entry by stealth through the private door of her apartment, I found her engaged in playful coquetry with Claudien.
KRANZBERG.
I fear there is something more than play concerned in this coquetry.
HARTMAN.
But she has not regarded him of late; her smiles were bestowed upon me.
KRANZBERG.
Deceitful smiles, to cover secret passion. Believe me, kinsman, she has only made you the cover for her wiles; and I am well assured, that when he is returned from Copenhagen, where he goes to remove some obstacle to their wishes, they will, with the approbation of her brother Van Maurice, throw aside all disguise, and be married. He sails in the Mermaid to-morrow.
HARTMAN.
May the waves of the sea be his winding-sheet! May the fishes of the ocean devour his lothly carcass!
KRANZBERG.
It may, indeed, be lothly enough when it falls to their share, but for his living carcass, at least, you must own that is noble and goodly.
HARTMAN.
I own it not: to me there is something in his air, his form, his mien, in the glance of his eye, yea, in the garb which he wears, that is intolerable.
KRANZBERG.
The ladies of Lubeck think differently.
HARTMAN.
Let them think as they will! it makes me mad to hear of such stupid, such perverse, such blind partiality. Senseless, fickle fools!
KRANZBERG.
True, they are fickle enough; but never mind it, that will cure the evil. They will praise him for an Apollo till he marry Rosella, and abuse him for a scarecrow afterwards.
HARTMAN.
Marry Rosella! I will have the heart's blood from his body ere I endure this misery for one day longer.
KRANZBERG.
Fy, fy, good Baron! I am very sorry I have said so much to you on this subject; but the friendly,—I may truly say, affectionate regard I feel for you, besides the admiration I have long entertained for your merits, made me unable to conceal from you longer the unworthy deceit which has been practised upon you. When I saw her smile upon you, and glance secret looks of fondness to Claudien,——
HARTMAN.
Say no more of it; my very ears are ringing with the sound, I will have vengeance ere another day pass over my head. [Exit furiously.
KRANZBERG (alone).
Let the fool work upon this! it will embroil him at least with Van Maurice and his sister, and I shall have the management of himself and his fortune in my own hands. (In a calculating posture, after having taken a turn across the Stage, muttering to himself.) Well, two thousand good acres, corn-land and forest, though encumbered with the due maintenance of the proprietor, may be as profitable to me as a third part of the fee-simple. What idiots they are who put their throats in jeopardy of the hangman, to have the actual property of money, when without risk or trouble they may have the actual spending thereof!—O there is nothing one may not procure, when one is happy enough to have a rich fool for one's friend—one's very dear, noble, feeling, high-minded friend! To soil one's hands with crime but for a little more than one can safely wheedle from him; it is the act of a hot-headed idiot![Exit.
SCENE IV.
A Library, with globes, cabinets, and other furniture, denoting the apartment of a student; a Table in front, on which burns a Lamp, the back of the Stage being entirely in shade.
EnterClaudienby a concealed door at the bottom of the Stage, who walks once or twice across it in a distracted manner, and then leaning his back against the wall, continues motionless.
EnterVan Mauriceby the front, with a book in his hand, which he lays upon the table.
VAN MAURICE (after having turned over the leaves for some time).
It is very strange; the passage opened to my hand in this very book but the other day, and now it is nowhere to be found. (A heavy sigh is uttered byClaudien.) I thought I heard something. (Looking round.) It is fancy. (Turning over the leaves again.) I will not give up the search; it was certainly here, and it will bear me out in every thing I have advanced on the subject. (A deep sigh, uttered as before.) There is somebody near me. (Looking round the room more perfectly, and discoveringClaudien.) Who art thou, lurking yonder in the shade? Come forward to the light, be thy designs hostile or friendly. Speak; say who thou art?
CLAUDIEN (advancing).
Thy friend.
VAN MAURICE.
My friend, here at this hour in such a plight!
What is the matter, Claudien? what has happened?
CLAUDIEN.
Something has happen'd!—I will tell thee all
When I am able.
VAN MAURICE.
Thou 'rt deadly pale; thy face is strangely haggard.
Sit down, sit down; thou art too weak to stand.
CLAUDIEN (sinking, half supported byVan Maurice, into a chair).
The light bewilders me.
VAN MAURICE.
There 's fever on thee: let me feel thy hand.
Ha! there is blood upon it; thou art wounded;
Thou 'rt faint and need'st assistance. (Going.)
CLAUDIEN (preventing him).
Call no one here, but stay with me thyself.
'Tis not my own blood, Maurice; would it were!
VAN MAURICE.
Hast thou slain any one?
CLAUDIEN.
He did attack me; from his hand I wrested
The clenched dagger—plunged it in his breast.
VAN MAURICE.
Then God be praised thou hast escaped, dear Claudien!
CLAUDIEN.
Oh say not so! I've taken human life,
I've sent a sinful soul to its dread reck'ning.
VAN MAURICE.
Be not so overcome; there is no cause.
His death is thy deliv'rance; and the laws
Of God and man will fully justify
An act of self-defence.
CLAUDIEN.
But me they will not justify! Beneath me—
My knee upon his breast. (Starting from his seat with a gesture of despair.)—Oh! what availed
The poor offence of a few spiteful words,
That I should do a fell—a ruffian's deed!
VAN MAURICE.
Be patient, Claudien, nor against thyself
Speak with such vehemence of condemnation.
Hadst thou resisted provocation, surely
It had been well. Thou 'st done a fearful deed,
But 't was a reckless, instantaneous impulse.
CLAUDIEN.
No, no! Oh, no! there was a fearful moment,
And thoughts cross'd o'er my mind before I struck him.
Would it had been an instantaneous impulse!
VAN MAURICE.
Distress of mind obscures thine understanding.
CLAUDIEN.
I've loved and been beloved by worthy men;
A noble, gen'rous heart dwelt in my breast,
As they believed, and so, alas, did I.
But Providence has brought it to the proof;
It was a fiend's heart; not a noble one.
Maurice, Van Maurice, when upon thy shoulder
I leant this morning, list'ning to the praise
Which thy too partial friendship lavish'd on me,
That I deserved it not, full well I knew,
But little did I think a deed like this——
(Bursting into tears.)
VAN MAURICE.
My dear, dear Claudien! I will love thee still,
Will praise thee still; thou art a noble creature.
CLAUDIEN.
Call me not so! it is excruciating.
I was a happy man, he was unhappy;
I at the moment arm'd, he weaponless;
I was the victor, he upon the ground.
I might have saved his life, and meant to save it;
But keen suggestions rush'd, I know not how,
Like blasts from hell, all nature's virtue searing;
Like poison'd arrows from an ambush'd foe;
Like gleams, revealing for one fearful instant
The weltering billows of a midnight deep,—
Athwart my mind they rush'd; and what came after!
O God! thy boundless mercy may forgive,
But I for ever am a wretched man!
VAN MAURICE.
But tell thy story more connectedly;
Whom hast thou slain?—Hush, hush! there's people coming.
I hear strange voices and the sound of feet.
(Runs to the door, and locks it.)
Haste to the garden-gate,—go to thy lodgings,
Thou wert at any rate to sail to-morrow
For Copenhagen by the early tide;
Thy quitting Lubeck will not raise suspicion.
Take leave, then, of Rosella, at the hour
When she expects thee, as if nought gave pain
But leaving her. Go home, all will go well.
(Knocking at the door.)
Dost thou not hear? art spell-bound to the spot?
Go home immediately. (Leads him hastily to the private door, and pushes him gently away.) [ExitClaudien.
[The knocking repeated still louder without: Van Mauricereturns to the opposite side and unlocks the door.]
EnterKranzbergand two Officers of Justice.
KRANZBERG.
How intent you have been on your studies, good Baron! to let us knock so long at your door!
VAN MAURICE.
I expected no visiters at this hour.
KRANZBERG.
Visiters will come at all hours when matters of moment compel them. I have that to tell you of which it concerns you much to know.— But you look as if you knew it already, for your face is as white as your neckcloth.
VAN MAURICE.
I know not what you mean; but I expect to hear something very dreadful from the alarm of your manner. What concern have I in your tale? which you had better tell me quickly in as few words as may be. What has happened?
KRANZBERG.
Your cousin, Baron Hartman, is murdered; the body has been found in a field, under the northern rampart.
VAN MAURICE.
Are you sure he is dead? The dagger, perhaps, has not gone so deep as you imagine; and he may but have fainted from loss of blood.
FIRST OFFICER (stepping eagerly up toVan Maurice).
And how do you know, Sir, that it is a dagger which has given the wound?
VAN MAURICE (in confusion).
I guess—I suppose—it is the common weapon of an assassin.
SECOND OFFICER (aside toKranzberg).
Did you mark that? I have my suspicions.
KRANZBERG (after a pause, during which they all look onVan Mauriceand on one another significantly).
But you give us no orders, Van Maurice? You are his nearest kinsman: it belongs to you to act on this unhappy occasion.
[Whilst they are speaking, First Officer goes round the room, looking into every corner, and at last stoops and lifts something from the floor, at the bottom of the Stage.]
VAN MAURICE.
Yes, true; something should be done. Let the body be removed to his house, and try if it can possibly be recovered.
KRANZBERG.
That has been done already, and it is as dead as the corpse of your grandfather. Are these all the orders you have to give? Sha'n't we send an armed party through the country to track out the murderer?
FIRST OFFICER (advancing).
We need not track him far. (Holding up the dagger.) Here is his mark: and, Baron Van Maurice, I arrest thee in the name of the state. (Laying hold of him.)
VAN MAURICE (repelling him).
Lay no hands on me, or ye may dearly answer for such an outrage. I am most innocent of the crime with which you would charge me; though I may well look disturbed on hearing such terrible intelligence.
KRANZBERG.
Ay, so thou may'st; but there is more than looks to condemn thee. (Showing him the dagger, upon which he recoils some paces back, and seems confounded.) Does this appal thee? We arrest thee in the name of the state, and this shall be our witness that we have not acted rashly.
[They all endeavour to seize him, while he struggles with them; and then enter several Servants.]
FIRST SERVANT.
Lay hands on our master! Ye shall take our lives, hell-hounds, ere ye wrong one hair of his head.
FIRST OFFICER.
We arrest him in the name of the state, and he is our lawful prisoner.
FIRST SERVANT (showing a pistol).
And I will blow your brains out in my own name, if ye do not let him go i' the instant.
[More armed Servants rushing in, surroundKranzbergand the Officers, and rescueVan Maurice.]
VAN MAURICE (recovering his composure).
Ye see I am freed from your grasp, and ye are now prisoners in this house during my pleasure.
All the Servants, speaking at once.
Yes, noble Baron; give them to our charge, and we will keep them securely, I warrant you.
VAN MAURICE (to the Servants).
I thank you, my friends; but I have somewhat more to say to these gentlemen. Ye see that I might detain you here, as long as my own convenience or safety, granting I were guilty, might require it; but I release you freely, upon this condition, that I shall remain at liberty, unmolested, till to-morrow mid-day; after that hour, I bind myself, as a man of honour, to be found here in my own house, ready without resistance to obey the laws of my country.
FIRST OFFICER.
Spoken like a man of honour, and we will trust you.
VAN MAURICE (toKranzberg).
And you promise this? (To Second Officer.) And you.
KRANZBERGandSECOND OFFICER (both at once).
We do.
VAN MAURICE (to Servants).
Let these gentlemen retire freely when it is their pleasure. (ToKranzberg.) Kinsman, good night. [Exit.
[Kranzbergand Officers remain on the front, whilst the Servants retire to the bottom of the Stage.]
FIRST OFFICER (toKranzberg).
Had we not better go hence and return by and by with a guard to hover, concealed round the house, and watch his motions? He may make his escape else, for all his fair promises.
KRANZBERG.
Let him do so; if he fly the country he is outlawed, and that will serve the purpose as effectually.
FIRST OFFICER.
Purpose! is there any other purpose but the vindication of the law, which says, "He who sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed."
[Kranzbergturns away in confusion, and pretends to speak to the Servants at the bottom of the Stage.]
SECOND OFFICER.
What! man, dost thou not understand him?
FIRST OFFICER.
No, faith! and thy wit is sharper than I reckon for if thou dost.
SECOND OFFICER.
Yet the mystery is not very deep neither. The Baron here is heir to Baron Hartman, and Kranzberg again is next heir after him, the lands being strictly so destined; and an outlaw, thou knowest, is a dead man as to all inheritance.
FIRST OFFICER.
Why, there's some sense in that. And by my faith! if Van Maurice has murdered Hartman to transfer his large estate to Kranzberg, he has sold himself to the devil for a ducat.
SECOND OFFICER.
Yes; hell will have a good bargain of it every way, for the revenues of the land will be as much spent for its interest in the possession of Kranzberg, as if given in fee simple to Beelzebub.
FIRST OFFICER.
Nay, nay; he lives in good repute,—thou art uncharitable.
KRANZBERG (advancing to the front).
Come, friends; let us return to our homes; to-morrow, at mid-day, we meet here again.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
The Apartment ofRosella; she enters, followed by an old Seaman, speaking as she enters.
ROSELLA.
And the wind is fair, thou sayest, but the sky foretelling change. Thou art an old mariner, good Jacome, and hast skill in sky and weather; tell me, then, faithfully, does it forbode a storm?
JACOME.
No, madam; not to say a storm; nothing to make you or any of the friends of Count Claudien uneasy: a stiff gale or so; and that, with a tight new vessel to trust to, is but a passing rouse for sailors or passengers either. It only makes a stir on board and the blood circulate more quickly. No, no, no! nothing to make one uneasy.
ROSELLA.
God grant it may be so!
JACOME.
Fear not, madam, fear not! You know I never speak but as I think; and I would not disgrace my former calling now by lying like a landsman.
ROSELLA.
I hear them coming; do what I desired thee, quickly. [ExitJacome.
Thank heaven! the voyage is but short; the time
Of his return fix'd as the calendar,
If that the fickle winds will give permission.
EnterClaudienandVan Maurice.
True to the hour of taking leave, my Claudien:
Ah! be as punctual to the promised time
Of thy return. And wilt thou not?
CLAUDIEN.
At least.
The fault shall not be mine, if I am not.
ROSELLA.
How gravely and how solemnly thou sayest so!
Has aught befallen to make thee on this point
Less sure than thou wert yesterday?—Dear brother,
You spoke so lightly of our parting then,
But now your cheer is wonderfully changed.
VAN MAURICE.
Something indeed has happen'd, dear Rosella,
That may defer thy Claudien's return
For a short month or so.
ROSELLA (after looking at them inquiringly).
No, no, Van Maurice,
Upon your faces I do plainly read
A more distressing tale. Deceive me not:
Tell me the worst at once; I'm his betroth'd,
And have a right to know it. Have I not?
Have I not, gentle Claudien?
CLAUDIEN.
Thou hast a right to every thing, my love,
That a devoted heart can give. My life,
All that deserves the name of life, I have
But in thy presence; to be absent from thee
Longer than strict necessity compels
Would be a wanton act of self destruction.
Trust, then, that he who is so strongly bound
Will soon return. The carrier-bird, released,
Points to one cherish'd spot her arrowy flight;
Not air's bright insects, nor earth's alpine peaks,
With purple berries clothed, her wonted lures,
From its true line can warp it e'en so much
As the vibration of a stricken cord.
ROSELLA.
This is no answer: art thou not my own,—
Almost my husband, and here stands a brother,
And yet you deal with me in mysteries.
Fie! is this well? Have I deserved this wrong?
VAN MAURICE.
Be satisfied, Rosella; urge us not.
It is not want of confidence in thee
Which makes us so reserved; urge no further.
ROSELLA.
Nay, but I will; for ye conceal from me
Some recent and disastrous event
To spare me pain. But ye mistake your aim.
Incertainty is aggravated pain.
Is he a ruin'd man? then I am ready
With heart and hand to sooth his poverty.
Is he proscribed by law? then I am ready
My country to abandon for his sake.
Say any thing, and I will bear it firmly
And meekly as I may.
CLAUDIEN.
My dearest love, I thought to have parted from thee
With brighter omens of a glad return:
But now thou weep'st, because the very day
Of my return is doubtful. If I stay
Two weeks or three weeks longer than we reckoned,
Shall I not still be welcome?
ROSELLA.
O, mock me not with weeks! thou knowest well
No time can make thee otherwise than welcome;
To me most dearly welcome.
Keep thy mysterious secret, if thou must;
But make amends by swearing on this hand
Not to extend thine absence for a day
Beyond the added time which thou hast mentioned.
CLAUDIEN.
Upon this hand, so lovely and so dear,
Not to be absent for a day—an hour
Longer than sad necessity compels me.
But thou meanwhile wilt keep me in thy thoughts.
Write to me often; wilt thou not, Rosella?
And be to me, in whate'er clime or country
A wayward fate may doom me to reside,
The very gleam and warmth of my existence.
ROSELLA.
A wayward fate may doom thee to reside!
What words are these? Thou never wilt return!
(Wringing her hands in anguish.)
VAN MAURICE (aside toClaudien).
Begone, begone! thy weakness will betray us.
Sister; thou givest way to apprehension,
Like a poor perverse wife who has been spoil'd
With long indulgence. 'T is a paltry proof
Of thy affection in an hour like this,
To add to his distress. Fie! be more generous!
ROSELLA.
And art thou angry with me, gentle Maurice?
Thou art not wont to chide. O, woe is me!
There must be something wrong—far wrong, indeed,
When he is sorrowful and thou unkind.
VAN MAURICE.
Pardon me, sister, something has distressed me;
I meant not to have told thee till to-morrow.
Our cousin Hartman died last night.
ROSELLA.
So suddenly!
Awfully sudden! I am sorry for it;
Yes; very, very sorry. Ah, poor Hartman!
I have, with too much levity, I fear,
Made his last days pass most uneasily.
He was vindictive, vain, and irritable:
But when the storm of passion passed away,
Who was more ready to repair a wrong
With generous amends? Alas! poor Hartman!
And thou too, gentle Claudien, weep'st for him,
Although he loved thee not. Well may'st thou weep;
For thou wert also one of his tormentors:
Ay, we did both of us too hardly press
Upon his natural infirmity.
CLAUDIEN.
Detested wretch! I've been a fiend, a——
VAN MAURICE (laying hold of him, and pressing his mouth).
Claudien,
Art thou a madman?—Come, the wind is fair,
The vessel is already weighing anchor.
Bid to your mistress, then, a short adieu,
As cheerly as you may. (They embrace and separate.)
Yes; bravely done, Rosella!—bravely done!
Thou art the firmest now.
ROSELLA (stepping afterClaudien).
Take this, and this, and wear them for my sake.
EnterMargaret.
MARGARET.
There is a ship-boy below with notice that the Mermaid is just leaving port.
VAN MAURICE (toClaudien).
Come then, my friend; we may no longer tarry.
ROSELLA.
Go, Claudien: I will hie me to the roof
Of my pavilion; there I'll watch thy ship,
Till, like a sea-bird, on the distant waves
It fades away to nothing. Two hours still
It will be visible. Cast up thy mantle;
Make me, I pray, some signal from the deck.
Farewell, heaven prosper thee! farewell, farewell!
[ExeuntClaudienandVan Maurice, but the latter returns hastily, and whispers toMargaret.]
ROSELLA.
What did he whisper to thee, Margaret? I am frightened at every thing.
MARGARET.
Nothing of importance: it was only to tell me that some necessary business might detain him from home the whole day; and, if so, you must not be uneasy.
ROSELLA.
Uneasy! I may be as I will now: it matters not how I am till Claudien return again.
