The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 162

The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume II Part 162

_Old Bathory._ She is safe.

The royal brute hath overleapt his prey, And when he turned, a sworded Virtue faced him. 115 My own brave boy--O pardon, n.o.ble lady!

Your son----

_Zapolya._ Hark! Is it he?

_Old Bathory._ I hear a voice Too hoa.r.s.e for Bethlen's! 'Twas his scheme and hope, Long ere the hunters could approach the forest, To have led you hence.--Retire.

_Zapolya._ O life of terrors! 120

_Old Bathory._ In the cave's mouth we have such 'vantage ground That even this old arm--

[_Exeunt ZAPOLYA and BATHORY into the cave._

_Enter LASKA and PESTALUTZ._

_Laska._ Not a step further!

_Pestalutz._ Dastard! was this your promise to the king?

_Laska._ I have fulfilled his orders. Have walked with you As with a friend: have pointed out Lord Casimir: 125 And now I leave you to take care of him.

For the king's purposes are doubtless friendly.

_Pestalutz._ Be on your guard, man!

_Laska._ Ha! what now?

_Pestalutz._ Behind you!

'Twas one of Satan's imps, that grinned and threatened you For your most impudent hope to cheat his master! 130

_Laska._ Pshaw! What! you think 'tis fear that makes me leave you?

_Pestalutz._ Is't not enough to play the knave to others, But thou must lie to thine own heart?

_Laska._ Friend! Laska will be found at his own post, Watching elsewhere for the king's interest. 135 There's a rank plot that Laska must hunt down, 'Twixt Bethlen and Glycine!

_Pestalutz._ What! the girl Whom Laska saw the war-wolf tear in pieces?

_Laska._ Well! Take my arms! Hark! should your javelin fail you, These points are tipt with venom. [_Seeing GLYCINE without._ By Heaven! Glycine! 140 Now as you love the king, help me to seize her!

[_They run out after GLYCINE. Enter BATHORY from the cavern._

_Old Bathory._ Rest, lady, rest! I feel in every sinew A young man's strength returning! Which way went they?

The shriek came thence. [_Enter GLYCINE._

_Glycine._ Ha! weapons here? Then, Bethlen, thy Glycine 145 Will die with thee or save thee!

[_She seizes them and rushes out. BATHORY following.

Music, and_ Peasants _with hunting spears cross the stage, singing chorally._

CHORAL SONG

Up, up! ye dames, ye la.s.ses gay!

To the meadows trip away.

'Tis you must tend the flocks this morn, And scare the small birds from the corn. 150 Not a soul at home may stay: For the shepherds must go With lance and bow To hunt the wolf in the woods to-day.

Leave the hearth and leave the house 155 To the cricket and the mouse: Find grannam out a sunny seat, With babe and lambkin at her feet.

Not a soul at home may stay: For the shepherds must go 160 With lance and bow To hunt the wolf in the woods to-day.

[_Exeunt_ Huntsmen.

_Re-enter BATHORY, BETHLEN, and GLYCINE._

_Glycine._ And now once more a woman----

_Bethlen._ Was it then That timid eye, was it those maiden hands That sped the shaft, which saved me and avenged me? 165

_Old Bathory._ 'Twas as a vision blazoned on a cloud By lightning, shaped into a pa.s.sionate scheme Of life and death! I saw the traitor, Laska, Stoop and s.n.a.t.c.h up the javelin of his comrade; The point was at your back, when her shaft reached him. 170 The coward turned, and at the self-same instant The braver villain fell beneath your sword.

[_Enter ZAPOLYA._

_Zapolya._ Bethlen! my child! and safe too!

_Bethlen._ Mother! Queen.

Royal Zapolya! name me Andreas!

Nor blame thy son, if being a king, he yet 175 Hath made his own arm minister of his justice.

So do the G.o.ds who launch the thunderbolt!

_Zapolya._ O Raab Kiuprili! Friend! Protector! Guide!

In vain we trenched the altar round with waters, A flash from Heaven hath touched the hidden incense-- 180

_Bethlen._ And that majestic form that stood beside thee Was Raab Kiuprili!

_Zapolya._ It was Raab Kiuprili; As sure as thou art Andreas, and the king.

_Old Bathory._ Hail Andreas! hail my king!

_Andreas._ Stop, thou revered one, Lest we offend the jealous destinies 185 By shouts ere victory. Deem it then thy duty To pay this homage, when 'tis mine to claim it.

_Glycine._ Accept thine hand-maid's service! [_Kneeling._

_Zapolya._ Raise her, son!

O raise her to thine arms! she saved thy life, And through her love for thee, she saved thy mother's! 190 Hereafter thou shalt know, that this dear maid Hath other and hereditary claims Upon thy heart, and with Heaven guarded instinct But carried on the work her sire began!

_Andreas._ Dear maid! more dear thou canst not be! the rest 195 Shall make my love religion. Haste we hence: For as I reached the skirts of this high forest, I heard the noise and uproar of the chase, Doubling its echoes from the mountain foot.

_Glycine._ Hark! sure the hunt approaches.

[_Horn without, and afterwards distant thunder._