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And haughty spirit, I have thought it well
Ulric. I have said
I will obey your orders, were they to
The nature of thine age, nor of thy blood,
Some master-fiend is in thy service to
Thou'dst say at once, “I love young Ida, and
Would I have answer'd.
Ulric. Sir, you wed for love.
Siegend. Alas! Love never did so.
Ulric. Then 'tis time
He should begin, and take the bandage from
Siegend. Then fix the day.
And, certes, courteous, to leave that to
Siegend. I will engage for her.
For any woman; and as what I fix,
Siegend. But 'tis your office
Ulric. Count, 'tis a marriage of your
So be it of your wooing; but to please you
Siegend. I did, and it has been my only For manly sports beyond the castle-walls,
In many miseries.
Ulric. Which miseries
Had never been but for this love-match.
And I obey; you bid me turn a chamberer,
And list to songs and tunes, and watch for smiles,
Against your age and nature! who at twenty And smile at pretty prattle, and look into
Eer answer'd thus till now?
Ulric. Did you not warn me
Against your own example?
In a word, do you love, or love not, Ida?
Siegend. As far
As you feel, nothing, but all life for her.
And giving so much happiness, deserves
The eyes of feminie, as though they were
Throng round him as a leader: but with me He hath no confidence! Ah! can I hope it After-what! doth my father's curse descend Even to my child? Or is the Hungarian near To shed more blood,or-oh! if it should be! Spirit of Stralenheim, dost thou walk these walls
To wither him and his—who, though they slew not,
Unlatch'd the door of death for thee? 'Twas not
Our fault,nor is our sin: thou wert our foe, And yet I spared thee when my own De
Slept with thee, to awake with thine awakening,
And only took-accursed Gold! thou liest Like poison in my hands; I dare not use thee, Nor part from thee; thou comest in such a guise,
Methinks thou wouldst contaminate all hands
Like mine. Yet I have done, to atone for thee,
Thou villanous Gold! and thy dead master's doom,
Though he died not by me or mine, as much
Enter an ATTENDANT.
Attendant. The Abbot, if it please Your Excellency, whom you sent for, waits Upon you. [Exit Attendant.
Enter the PRIOR ALBERT. Prior Albert. Peace be with these walls and all
Siegend. Welcome, welcome,holy Father! And may thy prayer be heard! - all men have need
Of such, and I
Prior Albert. Have the first claim to all The prayers of our community. Our convent, Erected by your ancestors, is still Protected by their children.
Siegend. Yes, good Father Continue daily orisons for us
In these dim days of heresies and blood, Though the schismatic Swede, Gustavus, is Gone home.
Prior Albert. To the endless home of unbelievers,
Where there is everlasting wail and woe, Gnashing of teeth, and tears of blood, and fire Eternal, and the worm which dieth not! Siegend. True, Father: and to avert those pangs from one, Who, though of our most faultless, holy church,
Yet died without its last and dearest offices, Which smoothe the soul through purgatorial pains,
I have to offer humbly this donation
[Siegendorf offers the gold which he
Prior Albert. Count, if I
Receive it, 'tis because I know too well Refusal would offend you. Be assured The largess shall be only dealt in alms, And every mass no less sung for the dead. Our house needs no donations, thanks to yours,
Which has of old endow'd it; but to you And yours in all meet things 'tis fit we obey.
For whom shall mass be said?
I would avert perdition.
We will pray
Prior Albert. I meant not To pry into your secret. For one unknown, the same as for the proudest.
Siegend. Secret! I have none; but Father, he who's gone
Might have one; or, in short, he did bequeath
No, not bequeath-but I bestow this sum For pious purposes.
Prior Albert. A proper deed
In the behalf of our departed friends. Siegend. But he, who's gone, was dot my friend, but foe,
The deadliest and the staunchest.
To employ our means to obtain heaven for the souls
Of our dead enemies, is worthy those
Siegend. But I did not
Forgive this man. I loathed him to the last, As he did me. I do not love him now,
Prior Albert. Best of all! for this is pure religion!
You fain would rescue him you hate from hell
An evangelical compassion !—with
Siegend. Father, 'tis not my gold. Prior Albert. Whose then? you said it was no legacy.
Siegend. No matter whose - of this be sure that he
Who own'd it never more will need it, save In that which it may purchase from your altars:
Tis yours, or theirs.
Prior Albert. Is there no blood upon it? Siegend. No: but there's worse than blood- eternal shame!
Prior Albert. Did he who own'd it die in his bed? Siegend. Alas! he did.
Prior Albert. Son! you relapse into | A cloud upon your thoughts. This were to be Too sensitive. Take comfort, and forget Such things, and leave Remorse unto the guilty. [Exeunt.
If you regret your enemy's bloodless death. Siegend. His death was fathomlessly deep in blood.
Prior Albert. You said he died in his bed, not battle. Siegend. He Died, I scarce know-but-he was stabb'd i' the dark,
And now you have it— perish'd on his pillow By a cut-throat! - ay! - you may look upon me!
I am not the man.
I'll meet your eye on
As I can one day God's.
Prior Albert. Nor did he die
By means, or men, or instrument of yours?
Prior Albert. Nor know you
Siegend. I could only guess at one,
I never saw the man who was suspected.
Siegend. Father! I have spoken
Yet say I am not guilty! for the blood
SCENE I.-A large and magnificent Gothic
Enter ARNHEIM and MEISTER, Attendants
Arnh. Be quick! the Count will soon
Already are at the portal. Have you sent
As far as the man's dress and figure could By your description track him. The devil take
These revels and processions! All the pleasure
I'm sure none doth to us who make the show.
Arnh. Go to! my Lady Countess comes.
Ride a day's hunting on an outworn jade,
Though by the Power who abhorreth Enter the COUNTESS JOSEPHINE SIEGENDORE
I did not!-nay, once spared it, when I might
Be e'er excusable in such defences
Father! I have pray'd myself in vain.
Be comforted! You are innocent, and should
Siegend. But Calmness is not
Prior Albert. But it will be so,
As well as your brave son; and smoothe
Nor in the general orison of thanks
and IDA STRALENHEIM.
Josephine. Well, Heaven be praised, the show is over!
Ida. How can you say so! Never have
Of anght so beautiful. The flowers, the boughs,
The banners, and the nobles,and the knights, The gems, the robes, the plumes, the happy faces,
The coursers, and the incense, and the sun Streaming through the stain'd windows; even the tombs,
Which look'd so calm, and the celestial hymns,
Which seem'd as if they rather came from heaven
Than mounted there; the bursting organ's peal
Rolling on high like an harmonious thunder;
At peace! and all at peace with one another!
I am so already. Feel how my heart beats! Josephine. It does, my love; and never may it throb
With aught more bitter!
Ida. Never shall it do so!
How should it? What should make us
To hear of sorrow: how can we be sad,
Josephine. Poor child!
And that in sorrow, not in the world's sense
Ida. I'll not hear
Ida. I thought too
Of Heaven, although I look'd on Ulric.
Let us retire; they will be here anon
Ida. And, above all, these stiff and
Which make my head and heart ache,as both
Beneath their glitter o'er my brow and zone.
Enter COUNT SIEGENDORF, in full dress, from
Siegend. Is he not found?
Ludwig. Strict search is making every where; and if
A word against a world which still contains | The man be in Prague, be sure he will be
How all eyes follow'd him? The flowers fell faster
Rain'd from each lattice at his feet, me
Than before all the rest, and where he trod
Josephine. You will spoil him, little
If he should hear you.
Ida. But he never will.
1 dare not say so much to him-I fear him.
Shape my thoughts of him into words to him.
Ida. A cloud comes o'er his blue eyes
Yet he says nothing.
Josephine. It is nothing: all men, Especially in these dark troublous times, Have much to think of.
Ida. But I cannot think
Of aught save him.
Josephine. Yet there are other men, In the world's eye, as goodly. There's, for instance,
The young Count Waldorf, who scarce once withdrew
His eyes from yours to-day.
Ida. I did not see him,
But Ulric. Did you not see at the moment When all knelt, and I wept? and yet methought
Through my fast tears, though they were thick and warm,
I saw him smiling on me.
Josephine. I could not
Siegend. Where's Ulric?
Ludwig. He rode round the other way With some young nobles; but he left them soon;
And, if I err not, not a minute since
Enter ULRIC, splendidly dressed.
(Exit Ludwig.) Oh! Ulric,
How have I long'd for thee!
Siegend. I have seen the murderer.
Siegend. The Hungarian, who slew Stra
Ulric. You dream.
Siegend. I live! and as I live, I saw him— Heard him! He dared to utter even my name. Ulric. What name?
Werner! 'twas mine.
Siegend. Never! never! all
My destinies were woven in that name: It will not be engraved upon my tomb, | But it may lead me there.
Ulric. To the point-the Hungarian? Siegend. Listen! - The church was throng'd; the hymn was raised; "Te Deum" peal'd from Nations, rather than From Choirs, in one great cry of "God be praised"
For one day's peace, after thrice ten dread
Each bloodier than the former: I arose,
See aught save Heaven, to which my eyes | Along the lines of lifted faces,-from
Together with the people's.
Our banner'd and escutcheon'd gallery, I
A moment, and no more) what struck me sightless
To all else - the Hungarian's face; I grew Sick; and when I recover'd from the mist Which curl'd about my senses, and again Look'd down, I saw him not. The thanksgiving
Was over, and we march'd back in procession. Ulric. Continue.
Siegend. When we reach'd the Muldau's bridge,
The joyous crowd above, the numberless Barks mann'd with revellers in their best garbs,
Which shot along the glancing tide below,
The roar of rushing thousands, all-all could not
Chase this man from my mind; although my senses
No longer held him palpable.
Ulric. You saw him
No more, then?
Siegend. I look'd, as a dying soldier Looks at a draught of water, for this man; But still I saw him not; but in his steadUlric. What in his stead? Siegend. My eye for ever fell Upon your dancing crest; the loftiest, As on the loftiest and the loveliest head, It rose the highest of the stream of plumes, Which overflow'd the glittering streets of Prague.
Ulric. What's this to the Hungarian?
Had almost then forgot him in my son,
Ulric. Uttered by
Siegend. HIM! I turn'd- and saw-and fell.
Ulric. And wherefore? Were you seen? Siegend. The officious care
Of those around me dragg'd me from the spot,
Seeing my faintness, ignorant of the cause; You, too, were too remote in the procession (The old nobles being divided from their children)
To aid me.
Ulric. But I'll aid you now.
Siegend. In what?
Ulric. In searching for this man,
When he's found,
What shall we do with him?
Sicgend. I know not that.