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And haughty spirit, I have thought it well
That thou shouldst wed the lady Ida-more,
As thou appear'st to love her.

Ulric. I have said

I will obey your orders, were they to
Unite with Hecate-can a son say more?
Siegend. He says too much in saying
this. It is not

The nature of thine age, nor of thy blood,
Nor of thy temperament, to talk so coolly,
Or act so carelessly, in that which is
The bloom or blight of all men's happiness
(For Glory's pillow is but restless if
Love lay not down his cheek there): some
strong bias,

Some master-fiend is in thy service to
Misrule the mortal who believes him slave,
And makes his every thought subservient;

Thou'dst say at once, “I love young Ida, and
Will wed her," or, "I love her not, and all
The powers of earth shall never make

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
His eyes, and look before he leaps: till now
He hath ta'en a jump i' the dark.
Siegend. But you consent?
Ulric. I did and do.

Siegend. Then fix the day.
Ulric. 'Tis usual,

And, certes, courteous, to leave that to
the lady.

Siegend. I will engage for her.
Ulric. So will not I

For any woman; and as what I fix,
I fain would see unshaken, when she gives
Her answer, I'll give mine.

Siegend. But 'tis your office
To woo.

Ulric. Count, 'tis a marriage of your

So be it of your wooing; but to please you
I will now pay my duty to my mother,
With whom, you know, the lady Ida is-
What would you have? You have forbid
my stirring

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.
Siegend. Still

And I obey; you bid me turn a chamberer,
To pick up gloves, and fans. and knitting-


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?
Siegend. Boyish sophist!

In a word, do you love, or love not, Ida?
Ulric. What matters it, if I am ready to
Obey you in espousing her?

Siegend. As far

As you feel, nothing, but all life for her.
She's young-all-beautiful-adores you—is
Endow'd with qualities to give happiness,
Such as rounds common life into a dream
Of something which your poets cannot paint,
And (if it were not wisdom to love virtue) |
For which Philosophy might barter Wis-

And giving so much happiness, deserves
A little in return. I would not have her
Break her heart for a man who has none

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The eyes of feminie, as though they were
The stars receding early to our wish
Upon the dawn of a world-winning battle-
What can a són or man do more?

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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
As if he were my brother! I have ta'en
His orphan Ida-cherish'd her as one
Who will be mine.


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

Within them!

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,

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I have to offer humbly this donation
In masses for his spirit.

[Siegendorf offers the gold which he
had taken from Stralenheim.

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?
Siegend. (faltering) For-for-the dead.
Prior Albert. His name?
Siegend. 'Tis from a Soul, and not a

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.
Prior Albert. Better still!

To employ our means to obtain heaven for the souls

Of our dead enemies, is worthy those
Who can forgive them living.

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
Your own gold too!

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.

that point,

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?
Siegend. No! by the God who sees and


Prior Albert. Nor know you
Who slew him?

Siegend. I could only guess at one,
And he to me a stranger, unconnected,
As unemploy'd. Except by one day's know-

I never saw the man who was suspected.
Prior Albert. Then you are free from guilt.
Siegend. (eagerly) Oh! am I?-say!
Prior Albert. You have said so, and
know best.

Siegend. Father! I have spoken
The truth, and nought but truth, if not the

whole :

Yet say I am not guilty! for the blood
Of this man weighs on me, as if I shed it,


SCENE I.-A large and magnificent Gothic
Hall in the Castle of Siegendorf, decorated
with Trophies, Banners and Arms of that

Enter ARNHEIM and MEISTER, Attendants
of COUNT SIEgendorf.

Arnh. Be quick! the Count will soon
return the ladies

Already are at the portal. Have you sent
The messengers in search of him he seeks for?
Meister. I have, in all directions, over


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.
(If such there be) must fall to the spectators.

Arnh. Go to! my Lady Countess comes.
Meister. I'd rather

Ride a day's hunting on an outworn jade,
Than follow in the train of a great man
In these dull pageantries.
Arnh. Begone! and rail


Though by the Power who abhorreth Enter the COUNTESS JOSEPHINE SIEGENDORE

human blood,

I did not!-nay, once spared it, when I might
And could-ay, perhaps, should (if our


Be e'er excusable in such defences
Against the attacks of over-potent foes);
But pray for him, for me, and all my house;
For, as I said, though I be innocent,
I know not why, a like Remorse is on me
As if he had fallen by me or mine. Pray
for me,

Father! I have pray'd myself in vain.
Prior Albert. I will.

Be comforted! You are innocent, and should
Be calm as Innocence.

Siegend. But Calmness is not
Always the attribute of Innocence:
I feel it is not.

Prior Albert. But it will be so,
When the mind gathers up its truth within it.
Remember the great festival to-morrow,
In which you rank amidst our chiefest

As well as your brave son; and smoothe
your aspect;

Nor in the general orison of thanks
For bloodshed stopt, let blood, you shed
not, rise


Josephine. Well, Heaven be praised, the show is over!

Ida. How can you say so! Never have

I dreamt

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;
The white robes, and the lifted eyes; the

At peace! and all at peace with one another!
Oh, my sweet mother!

[Embracing Josephine.
Josephine. My beloved child!
For such, I trust, thou shalt be shortly.

Ida. Oh!

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
grieve? I hate

To hear of sorrow: how can we be sad,
Who love each other so entirely? You,
The Count, and Ulric, and your daughter,

Josephine. Poor child!
Ida. Do you pity me?
Josephine. No; I but envy,

And that in sorrow, not in the world's sense
Of the universal vice, if one vice be
More general than another.

Ida. I'll not hear

Ida. I thought too

Of Heaven, although I look'd on Ulric.
Josephine. Come,

Let us retire; they will be here anon
Expectant of the banquet. We will lay
Aside these nodding plumes and dragging

Ida. And, above all, these stiff and
heavy jewels,

Which make my head and heart ache,as both

Beneath their glitter o'er my brow and zone.
Dear mother, I am with you. [Exeunt.

Enter COUNT SIEGENDORF, in full dress, from
the solemnity, and LUDWIG.

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
You and my Ulric. Did you ever see
Aught like him? How he tower'd amongst

them all!

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
I dare be sworn that they grow still, nor e'er
Will wither.

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.
Josephine. Why so? he loves you well.
Ida. But I can never

Shape my thoughts of him into words to him.
Besides, he sometimes frightens me.
Josephine. How so?

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
I heard his Excellency, with his train,
Gallop o'er the West-drawbridge

Enter ULRIC, splendidly dressed.
Siegend. (to Ludwig) See they cease not
Their quest of him I have described.

(Exit Ludwig.) Oh! Ulric,

How have I long'd for thee!
Ulric. Your wish is granted-
Behold me!

Siegend. I have seen the murderer.
Ulric. Whom? Where?

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.
Ulric. It must be so
No more: forget it.

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,
With all the nobles, and as I look'd down

See aught save Heaven, to which my eyes | Along the lines of lifted faces,-from

were raised

Together with the people's.

Our banner'd and escutcheon'd gallery, I
Saw, like a flash of lightning, (for I saw

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 decorated street, the long array,
The clashing music, and the thundering
Of far artillery, which seem'd to bid
A long and loud farewell to its great doings,
The standards o'er me, and the tramplings

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?
Siegend. Much; for I

Had almost then forgot him in my son,
When just as the artillery ceased,and paused
The music, and the crowd embraced in lieu
Of shouting, I heard in a deep, low voice,
Distinct and keener far upon my ear
Than the late Cannon's Volume, this word-

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.


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