unfaithful profile of one, who still lives, nobilitate felix, arte clarior, vitâ colendissimus.
ZULIMEZ (speaking of Alvar in the third person). Such was the noble Spaniard's own relation. He told me, too, how in his early youth,
And his first travels, 't was his choice or chance To make long sojourn in sea-wedded Venice; There won the love of that divine old man, Courted by mightiest kings, the famous Titian! Who, like a second and more lovely Nature, By the sweet mystery of lines and colors, Changed the blank canvas to a magic mirror, That made the Absent present; and to Shadows Gave light, depth, substance, bloom, yea, thought and
My husband's father told it me,
Poor old Sesina-angels rest his soul! He was a woodman, and could fell and saw With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam Which props the hanging wall of the old Chapel ? Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree, He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home, And reared him at the then Lord Valdez' cost. And so the babe grew up a pretty boy,
A pretty boy, but most unteachable
He never learnt a prayer, nor told a bead,
But knew the names of birds, and mock'd their notes, And whistled, as he were a bird himself: And all the autumn 't was his only play
To gather seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them With earth and water on the stumps of trees. A Friar, who gather'd simples in the wood, A gray-hair'd man, he loved this little boy:
The boy loved him, and, when the friar taught him, He soon could write with the pen; and from that time Lived chiefly at the Convent or the Castle.
So he became a rare and learned youth:
But O! poor wretch! he read, and read, and read, Till his brain turn'd; and ere his twentieth year He had unlawful thoughts of many things: And though he pray'd, he never loved to pray With holy men, nor in a holy place. But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet, The late Lord Valdez ne'er was wearied with him. And once, as by the north side of the chapel They stood together, chain'd in deep discourse, The earth heaved under them with such a groan, That the wall totter'd, and had well-nigh fallen Right on their heads. My Lord was sorely frighten'd, A fever seized him, and he made confession Of all the heretical and lawless talk Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seized And cast into that hole. My husband's father Sobb'd like a child-it almost broke his heart: And once as he was working near this dungeon, He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's, Who sung a doleful song about green fields, How sweet it were on lake or wide savanna To hunt for food, and be a naked man, And wander up and down at liberty. He always doted on the youth, and now His love grew desperate; and defying death, He made that cunning entrance I described, And the young man escaped.
"Tis a sweet tale: Such as would lull a listening child to sleep, His rosy face besoil'd with unwiped tears. And what became of him?
He went on shipboard With those bold voyagers who made discovery Of golden lands. Sesina's younger brother Went likewise, and when he return'd to Spain, He told Sesina, that the poor mad youth, Soon after they arrived in that new world, In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat, And all alone set sail by silent moonlight Up a great river, great as any sea,
And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis supposed. He lived and died among the savage men. 105
But Raab Kiuprili moves with such a gait? Lo! e'en this eager and unwonted haste But agitates, not quells, its majesty. THE form of the following dramatic poem is in hum- My patron! my commander! yes, 't is he! ble imitation of the Winter's Tale of Shakspeare, Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes. except that I have called the first part a Prelude instead of a first Act, as a somewhat nearer resem-Drums beat, etc. the Guard turns out. blance to the plan of the ancients, of which one specimen is left us in the Æschylian Trilogy of the Agamemnon, the Orestes, and the Eumenides. Though a matter of form merely, yet two plays, on different periods of the same tale, might seem less bold, than an interval of twenty years between the first and second act. This is, however, in mere obedience to custom. The effect does not, in reality, at all depend on the Time of the interval; but on a very different principle. There are cases in which an interval of twenty hours between the acts would have a worse effect (i. e. render the imagination less disposed to take the position required) than twenty years in other cases. For the rest, I shall be well content if my readers will take it up, read and judge it, as a How fares the king? His majesty still lives? Christmas tale.
EMERICK, usurping King of Illyria. RAAB KIUPRILI, an Illyrian Chieftain. CASIMIR, Son of Kiuprili.
CHEF RAGOZZI, a Military Commander WOMAN.
ZAPOLYA, Queen of Illyria.
THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED, “THE USURP- ER'S FORTUNE."
Front of the Palace with a magnificent Colonnade. On one side a military Guard-House. Sentries pacing backward and forward before the Palace. CHEF RAGOZZI, at the door of the Guard-House, as looking forwards at some object in the distance.
My eyes deceive me not, it must be he!
Who but our chief, my more than father, who
RAAB KIUPRILI (making a signal to stop the drums, etc Silence! enough! This is no time, young friend! For ceremonious dues. This summoning drum, Th' air-shattering trumpet, and the horseman's clatter, Are insults to a dying sovereign's ear. Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your general greets you, His loyal fellow-warriors. [Guards retire.
Pardon my surprise. Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended! What may these wonders prophesy?
We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends (And none but they approach him) scoff at hope.
Ragozzi! I have rear'd thee from a child,
And as a child I have rear'd thee. Whence this air Of mystery? That face was wont to open Clear as the morning to me, showing all things Hide nothing from me.
CHEF RAGOZZI.
O most loved, most honor'd,
The mystery that struggles in my looks, Betray'd my whole tale to thee, if it told thee That I am ignorant; but fear the worst. And mystery is contagious. All things here Are full of motion: and yet all is silent:
And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears. RAAB KIUPRILI (his hand to his heart).
I have trembling proof within, how true thou speakest
That the prince Emerick feasts the soldiery, Gives splendid arins, pays the commanders' debts, And (it is whisper'd) by sworn promises Makes himself debtor-hearing this, thou hast heard All- (Then in a subdued and saddened voice.) But what my Lord will learn too soon himself.
Ha!-Well then, let it come! Worse scarce can
This letter, written by the trembling hand Of royal Andreas, calls me from the camp
This life of mine, O take it, Lord Kiuprili! I give it as a weapon to thy hands,
Mine own no longer. Guardian of Illyria, Useless to thee, 'tis worthless to myself. Thou art the framer of my nobler being: Nor does there live one virtue in my soul, One honorable hope, but calls thee father. Yet ere thou dost resolve, know that yon palace Is guarded from within, that each access
is throng'd by arm'd conspirators, watch'd by ruffians Pamper'd with gifts, and hot upon the spoil Which that false promiser still trails before them. I ask but this one boon-reserve my life Till I can lose it for the realm and thee! RAAB KIUPRILI.
My heart is rent asunder. O my country, O fallen Illyria! stand I here spell-bound?
The bad man's cunning still prepares the way For its own outwitting. I applaud, Ragozzi! [Musing to himself—then- Ragozzi! I applaud,
In thee, the virtuous hope that dares look onward And keeps the life-spark warm of future action Beneath the cloak of patient sufferance. Act and appear as time and prudence prompt thee; I shall not misconceive the part thou playest. Mine is an easier part-to brave the Usurper.
[Enter a procession of EMERICK'S Adherents Nobles, Chieftains, and Soldiers, with Music. They advance toward the front of the Stage. KIUPRILI makes the signal for them to stop.- The Music ceases.
LEADER OF THE PROCESSION.
The Lord Kiuprili!-Welcome from the camp.
Grave magistrates and chieftains of Illyria! In good time come ye hither, if ye come As loyal men with honorable purpose
To mourn what can alone be mourn'd; but chiefly To enforce the last commands of royal Andreas, And shield the queen, Zapolya: haply making The mother's joy light up the widow's tears.
Our purpose demands speed. Grace our procession; A warrior best will greet a warlike king.
This patent, written by your lawful king (Lo! his own seal and signature attesting) Appoints as guardians of his realm and offspring, The Queen, and the Prince Emerick, and myself. [Voices of Live King Emerick! an Emerick! an Emerick!
What means this clamor? Are these madmen's voices? Or is some knot of riotous slanderers leagued To infamize the name of the king's brother With a lie black as Hell? unmanly cruelty, Ingratitude, and most unnatural treason! [Murmurs. What mean these murmurs? Dare then any here Proclaim Prince Emerick a spotted traitor? One that has taken from you your sworn faith, And given you in return a Judas' bribe,
Infamy now, oppression in reversion,
And Heaven's inevitable curse hereafter?
RAAB KIUPRILI (turning away).
Casimir! He, he a traitor!
Too soon indeed, Ragozzi! have I learnt it. Aside CASIMIR (with reverence).
RAAB KIUPRILI.
I know thee not! LEADER.
Yet the remembrancing did sound right filial.
A holy name and words of natural duty Are blasted by a thankless traitor's utterance.
O hear me, Sire! not lightly have I sworn Homage to Emerick. Illyria's sceptre Demands a manly hand, a warrior's grasp. The queen Zapolya's self-expected offspring At least is doubtful: and of all our nobles, The king inheriting his brother's heart, Hath honor'd us the most. Your rank, my Lord! Already eminent, is—all it can be— Confirmed and me the king's grace hath appointed Chief of his council and the lord high-steward.
(Bought by a bribe!) I know thee now still less
CASIMIR (struggling with his passion). So much of Raab Kiuprili's blood flows here, That no power, save that holy name of father, Could shield the man who so dishonor'd me. RAAB KIUPRILI.
[Loud murmurs, followed by crics-Emerick! No The son of Raab Kiuprili! a bought bond-slave,
Baby Prince! No Changelings!
Yet bear with me awhile! Have I for this Bled for your safety, conquer'd for your honor! Was it for this, Illyrians! that I forded
Your thaw-swoln torrents, when the shouldering ice Fought with the foe, and stain'd its jagged points With gore from wounds, I felt not? Did the blast Beat on this body, frost-and-famine-numb'd, Till my hard flesh distinguish'd not itself From the insensate mail, its fellow-warrior? And have I brought home with me Victory, And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed Peace, Her countenance twice lighted up with glory, As if I had charm'd a goddess down from Heaven? But these will flee abhorrent from the throne of usurpation!
[Murmurs increase—and cries of Onward! onward! Have you then thrown off shame,
And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject, Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophies Valiantly wrested from a valiant foe, Love's natural offerings to a rightful king, Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor, This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes Of gold pluck'd from the images of gods Upon a sacrilegious robber's back.
[During the last four lines, enter LORD CASIMIR, with expressions of anger and alarm.
Who is this factious insolent, that dares brand The elected King, our chosen Emerick?
Guilt's pander, treason's mouth-piece, a gay parrot, School'd to shrill forth his feeder's usurp'd titles, And scream, Long live king Emerick!
Ay, King Emerick! Stand back, my Lord! Lead us, or let us pass.
Nay, let the general speak!
Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria, Hear, and avenge me! Twice ten years have I Stood in your presence, honor'd by the king, Beloved and trusted. Is there one among you, Accuses Raab Kiuprili of a bribe?
Or one false whisper in his sovereign's ear? Who here dare charge me with an orphan's rights Outfaced, or widow's plea left undefended? And shall I now be branded by a traitor,
A bought bribed wretch, who, being called my son Doth libel a chaste matron's name, and plant Hensbane and aconite on a mother's grave? The underling accomplice of a robber, That from a widow and a widow's offspring Would steal their heritage? To God a rebel, And to the common father of his country A recreant ingrate!
Sire! your words grow dangerous High-flown romantic fancies ill-beseem
[Starts-then approaching with timid respect. Your age and wisdom. "Tis a statesman's virtue,
To guard his country's safety by what means
Kiuprili? Ha![With lowered voice, at the same Sire! speak the whole truth! Say, her frauds detected! time with one hand making signs to the guard to retire.
Pass on, friends! to the palace. [Music recommences.-The Procession passes into the Palace.-During which time EMERICK and KIUPRILI regard each other stedfastly.
A fugitive, who, with victory for his comrade, Ran, open-eyed, upon the face of death! A fugitive, with no other fear, than bodements To be belated in a loyal purpose—
At the command, Prince! of my king and thine, Hither I came; and now again require Audience of Queen Zapolya; and (the States Forthwith convened) that thou dost show at large, On what ground of defect thou'st dared annul This thy King's last and solemn act-hast dared Ascend the throne, of which the law had named, And conscience should have made thee. a protector.
Of her physician- According to the sworn attests in council
RAAB KIUPRILI (aside).
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