Sidor som bilder
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Gab.

I will not detain you By speaking of myself much; I began

Likarly-and am what the world has made me. At Frankfort on the Oder, where I pass'd

A winter in obscurity, it was

My chance at several places of resort

(Which I frequented sometimes but not often) To hear related a strange circumstance

la February last. A martial force,

ent by the state, had, after strong resistance,
ecured a band of desperate men, supposed
farauders from the hostile camp. They proved,
However, not to be so-but banditti,
Whom either accident or enterprise

Had carried from their usual haunt—the forests
Which skirt Bohemia-even into Lusatia.
Many amongst them were reported of

High rank-and martial law slept for a time.
At last they were escorted o'er the frontiers,
And placed beneath the civil jurisdiction
of the free town of Frankfort. Of their fate,

know no more.

Sieg.

And what is this to Ulric?

Gab. Amongst them there was said to be one man

If wonderful endowments:-birth and fortune,

Fouth, strength, and beauty, almost superhuman,

And

courage as unrivall'd, were proclaim'd

is by the public rumour; and his sway,

Not only over his associates, but

His judges, was attributed to witchcraft. Such was his influence:-I have no great faith la any magic save that of the mine

I therefore deem'd him wealthy.-But my soul Was roused with various feelings to seek out This prodigy, if only to behold him.

so?

Sieg. And did you so You'll hear.

Gab.

Chance favour'd me:

A popular affray in the public square

Drew crowds together-it was one of those
Occasions where men's souls look out of them,
And show them as they are-even in their faces:
The moment my eye met his, I exclaim'd,

"This is the man!" though he was then, as since,
With the nobles of the city. I felt sure

I had not err'd, and watch'd him long and nearly:
I noted down his form-his gesture-features,
Stature, and bearing-and amidst them all,
Midst every natural and acquired distinction,
I could discern, methought, the assassin's eye
And gladiator's heart.
Ulr. (smiling.) The tale sounds well.
Gab. And may sound better.-He appear'd to me
One of those beings to whom Fortune bends,
As she doth to the daring-and on whom
The fates of others oft depend; besides,

An indescribable sensation drew me

Near to this man, as if my point of fortune
Was to be fix'd by him.--There I was wrong.
Sieg. And may not be right now.
Gab.

I follow'd him, Solicited his notice-and obtain❜d it—

Though not his friendship:—it was his intention
To leave the city privately-we left it
Together-and together we arrived

In the poor town where Werner was conceal'd,
And Stralenheim was succour'd-Now we are on
The verge dare you hear further?
Sieg.

Or I have heard too much.

Gab.

I must do so

I saw in you

A man above his station-and if not
So high, as now I find you, in my then
Conceptions, 'twas that I had rarely seen
Men such as you appear'd in height of mind
In the most high of worldly rank; you were

Poor, even to all save rags: I would have shared
My purse, though slender, with you—you refused it.
Sieg. Doth my refusal make a debt to you,
That thus you urge it?

Gab.
Still you owe me something,
Though not for that; and I owed you my safety,
At least my seeming safety, when the slaves
Of Stralenheim pursued me, on the grounds
That I had robb'd him.

Sieg. I conceal'd you-I, Whom and whose house you arraign, reviving viper! Gab. I accuse no man-save in my defence. You, count, have made yourself accuser-judge: Your hall's my court, your heart is my tribunal. Be just, and I'll be merciful!

Sieg.

You! Base calumniator! Gab.

You merciful!

I. "Twill rest

You conceal'd meyourself,

At dead of night,

With me at last to be so.
In secret passages known to
You said, and to none else.
Weary with watching in the dark, and dubious
Of tracing back my way, I saw a glimmer,
Through distant crannies, of a twinkling light:
I follow'd it, and reach'd a door-a secret
Portal-which open'd to the chamber, where,
With cautious hand and slow, having first undone
As much as made a crevice of the fastening,
I look'd through and beheld a purple bed,
And on it Stralenheim!--

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He, whom you dare not name, nor even I
Scarce dare to recollect, was not then in
The chamber.

Sieg. (to ULRIC.) Then, my boy! thou art guiltless Thou bad'st me say I was so once-Oh! now [stillDo thou as much!

Gab.
Be patient! I can not
Recede now, though it shake the very walls
Which frown above us. You remember,-or
If not, your son does,—that the locks were changed
Beneath his chief inspection on the morn
Which led to this same night: how he had enter'd
He best knows-but within an antechamber,
The door of which was half ajar, I saw

A man who wash'd his bloody hands, and oft,
With stern and anxious glance, gazed back upon
The bleeding body-but it moved no more.
Sieg. Oh! God of fathers!

Gab.
I beheld his features
As I see yours-but yours they were not, though
Resembling them-behold them in Count Ulric's!
Distinct as I beheld them, though the expression
Is not now what it then was;-but it was so
When I first charged him with the crime-so lately.
Sieg. This is so――

[end!

Gab. (interrupting him.) Nay—but hear me to the
Now you must do so.-I conceived myself
Betray'd by you and him (for now I saw
There was some tie between you) into this
Preteuded den of refuge, to become

The victim of your guilt; and my first thought
Was vengeance: but though arm'd with a short poniard
(Having left my sword without), I was no match
For him at any time, as had been proved
That morning-either in address or force.

I turn'd, and fled-i' the dark: chance rather than
Skill made me gain the secret door of the hall,
And thence the chamber where you slept: if I
Had found you waking, Heaven alone can tell
What vengeance and suspicion might have prompted;
But ne'er slept guilt as Werner slept that night.

Sieg. And yet I had horrid dreams! and such brief sleep,

The stars had not gone down when I awoke.
Why didst thou spare me? I dreamt of my father-
And now my dream is out!

Gab.
"Tis not my fault,
If I have read it.-Well! I fled and hid me-
Chance led me here after so many moons-
And show'd me Werner in Count Siegendorf!
Werner, whom I had sought in huts in vain,
Inhabited the palace of a sovereign!

You sought me and have found me-now you know
My secret, and may weigh its worth.
Sieg. (after a pause.)

Indeed!

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At once:-When you were poor, and I, though poor,
Rich enough to relieve such poverty

As might have envied mine, I offer'd you
My purse-you would not share it :-I'll be franker
With you: you are wealthy, noble, trusted by
The imperial powers-you understand me?
Sieg.

Yes.

Gab. Not quite. You think me venal, and scarce 'Tis no less true, however, that my fortunes [true: Have made me both at present. You shall aid me: I would have aided you-and also have Been somewhat damaged in my name to save Yours and your son's. Weigh well what I have said. Sieg. Dare you await the event of a few minutes Deliberation?

Gab. (casts his eyes on ULRIC, who is leaning
against a pillar.) If I should do so?
Sieg. I pledge my life for yours. Withdraw inte
This tower.
[Opens a turret decr
Gab. (hesitatingly.) This is the second safe asylum
You have offer'd me.
Sieg.
And was not the first so?
Gab. I know not that even now-but will approve
The second. I have still a further shield:-
I did not enter Prague alone; and should I
Be put to rest with Stralenheim, there are
Some tongues without will wag in my behalf.
Be brief in your decision! (1)

Sieg.
I will be so.-
My word is sacred and irrevocable
Within these walls, but it extends no further.
Gab. I'll take it for so much.

Sieg. (points to ULRIC's sabre still upon the ground)

I saw you eye it eagerly, and him
Distrustfully.

Take also that

Gab. (takes up the sabre.) I will; and so To sell my life-not cheaply.

profile

[GABOR goes into the turret, which SIEGENDOME

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For trifling or dissembling. I have said
His story's true; and he too must be silenced.
Sieg. How so?

Ulr.

As Stralenheim is. Are you so dull As never to have hit on this before? When we met in the garden, what except Discovery in the act could make me know His death? Or had the prince's household been Then summon'd, would the cry for the police Been left to such a stranger? Or should I Werner, Have loiter'd on the way? Or could you, The object of the baron's hate and fears,

short.'-Sieg. My promise is solemn, sacred, irrevocable: It extends not, however, beyond these walls. Miss Les.

-L. E.

Have fled, unless by many an hour before
Suspicion woke? I sought and fathom'd you,
Doubting if you were false or feeble: I
Perceived you were the latter; and yet so
Confiding have I found you, that I doubted
At times your weakness. (1)
Sieg.

Parricide! no less Than common stabber! What deed of my life,

Or thought of mine, could make you deem me fit For your accomplice?

Ulr.

Father, do not raise

The devil you cannot lay between us. This

Is time for union and for action, not

For family disputes. While you were tortured,
Could I be calm? Think you that I have heard
This fellow's tale without some feeling?—You
Have taught me feeling for you and myself;
For whom or what else did you ever teach it?
Sieg. Oh! my dead father's curse! 't is working now.
Ulr. Let it work on! the grave will keep it down!
Ashes are feeble foes: it is more easy
To baffle such, than countermine a mole,
Which winds its blind but living path beneath you.
Yet hear me still!-If you condemn me, yet
Remember who hath taught me (once too often)
To listen to him! Who proclaim'd to me

That there were crimes made venial by the occasion?
That passion was our nature? that the goods
Of Heaven waited on the goods of fortune?
Who show'd me his humanity secured
By his nerves only? Who deprived me of
All power to vindicate myself and race

open day? By his disgrace which stamp'd
It might be) bastardy on me, and on
Himself a felon's brand! The man who is
At once both warm and weak invites to deeds
He longs to do, but dare not. Is it strange

That I should act what you could think? We have done

With right and wrong; and now must only ponder
Upon effects, not causes. Stralenheim,
Whose life I saved from impulse, as, unknown,
I would have saved a peasant's or a dog's, I slew
Known as our foe-but not from vengeance. He
Was a rock in our way which I cut through,
As doth the bolt, because it stood between us
And our true destination--but not idly.
As stranger I preserved him, and he owed me
His life: when due, I but resumed the debt.
He, you, and I stood o'er a gulf wherein

(1) "I am ready to allow every fair license to dramatic verse, but still it must have more than the bare typographic impress of metre. Ten syllables, counted by finger and thumb, will not do. None of us imagine-

Day and Martin,

To prevent fraud, request purchasers to
Look on the signature on the patent Blacking
Bottles, etc.-

to be versification, and the great majority of the lines in this tragedy are just as harmonious-e. g.- Ul. He too must be silenced.-Ver. How so?- Ul. As Stralenheim is. Are you so dull as never to have hit on this before? When we met in the garden, what except discovery in the act could make me know his death? Or had the prince's household been then summoned, would the cry for the police bren left to such a stranger? [Pretty English this last sentence, by the by!] Or should I have loitered on the way? Or could you, Werner, the object of the baron's hate and fears, bave fled-unless by many an hour before suspicion woke? I sought and fathom'd you, doubting if you were

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Oh fool!

And yon-my son? My son! mine! who have ever
Abhorr'd both mystery and blood, and yet
Am plunged into the deepest hell of both!
I must be speedy, or more will be shed—
The Hungarian's! Ulric-be hath partisans,
It seems: I might have guess'd as much.
Wolves prowl in company. He hath the key
(As I too) of the opposite door which leads
Into the turret. Now then! or once more
To be the father of fresh crimes, no less
Than of the criminal! Ho! Gabor! Gabor!
[Exit into the turret, closing the door after him.

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Sieg. Let it not be more fatal still!-Begone! Gab. By the same path I enter'd? Sieg.

Denounced-dragg'd, it may be, in chains; and all
By your inherent weakness, half-humanity,
Selfish remorse, and temporising pity,
That sacrifices your whole race to save
A wretch to profit by our ruin! No, count!
Henceforth you have no son.

Sieg.

I never had one;

And would you ne'er had borne the useless name! Yes; that's safe still: Where will you go? I would not send you forth

But loiter not in Prague;-you do not know
With whom you have to deal.

Gab.
I know too well-
And knew it ere yourself, unhappy sire!
Farewell!

[Exit GABOR. Sieg. (solus and listening.) He hath clear'd the staircase. Ah! I hear

The door sound loud behind him! He is safe!
Safe! Oh, my father's spirit!-I am faint-

[He leans down upon a stone seat, near the wall of the tower, in a drooping posture.

Without protection.

Ulr.

Leave that unto me.
I am not alone; nor merely the vain heir
Of your domains; a thousand, ay, ten thousand
Swords, hearts, and hands, are mine.
Sieg.

The foresters With whom the Hungarian found you first at Frankfort!

Ulr. Yes-men-who are worthy of the name!
Go tell

Your senators that they look well to Prague;
Their feast of peace was early for the times;

Enter ULRIC, with others armed, and with weapons There are more spirits abroad than have been laid

drawn.

Ulr. Despatch!-he's there! Lud. The count, my lord! Ulr. (recognising SIEGENDORF.) You here, sir! Sieg. Yes if you want another victim, strike! Ulr. (seeing him stript of his jewels.) Where is the ruffian who hath plunder'd you? Vassals, despatch in search of him! You see 'T was as I said-the wretch hath stript my father Of jewels which might form a prince's heir-loom! Away! I'll follow you forthwith.

[Exeunt all but SIEGENDORF and ULRIC. What's this?

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With Wallenstein!

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Means my good lord?

Sieg.
To a demon!

What

That you have given birth

Ida (taking ULRIC's hand). Who shall dare s

this of Ulric?

Sieg. Ida, beware! there's blood upon that band
Ida (stooping to kiss it). I'd kiss it off, though |
Sieg.
It is so!

Ulr. Away! it is your father's!
Ida.

And I have loved this man!

[were mise [Exit ULRIC

Oh, great God!

[IDA falls senseless—JOSEPHINE stands speechless with horror.

Sieg.

The wretch hath slain Them both!--My Josephine! we are now alone! Would we had ever been so!-All is over For me!-Now open wide, my sire, thy grave; Thy curse hath dug it deeper for thy son In mine! The race of Siegendorf is past!

The Age of Bronze;

OR,

CARMEN SECULARE ET ANNUS HAUD MIRABILIS. (1)

"Impar Congressus Achilli."

I.

TEE good old times”—all times when old are good-
Are gone; the present might be if they would;
Great things have been, and are, and greater still
Want little of mere mortals but their will:
A wider space, a greener field, is given

To those who play their "tricks before high Heaven."
I know not if the angels weep, but men
Have wept enough—for what?-to weep again!
II.

All is exploded-be it good or bad.

His

Reader! remember when thou wert a lad,
Then Pitt was all; or, if not all, so much,
very rival almost deem'd him such. (2)
We, we have seen the intellectual race
Of giants stand, like Titans, face to face-
Athos and Ida, with a dashing sea
Of eloquence between, which flow'd all free,
As the deep billows of the Ægean roar
Betwixt the Hellenic and the Phrygian shore.
But where are they-the rivals!—a few feet
Of sullen earth divide each winding-sheet. (3)
How peaceful and how powerful is the grave
Which hushes all! a calm unstormy wave
Which oversweeps the world. The theme is old
Of "dust to dust;" but half its tale untold:
Fime tempers not its terrors-still the worm
Winds its cold folds, the tomb preserves its form,
Varied above, but still alike below;
The urn may shine, the ashes will not glow,
Though Cleopatra's mummy cross the sea
Y'er which from empire she lured Antony;
Though Alexander's urn a show be grown
On shores he wept to conquer, though unknown—
How vain, how worse than vain, at length appear
The madman's wish, the Macedonian's tear!
He wept for worlds to conquer-half the earth
Knows not his name, or but his death, and birth,

This poem was written by Lord Byron at Genoa, in he early part of the year 1823; and published in London, y Mr. John Hunt. Its authenticity was much disputed at

de time.-L. E.

(2) Mr. Fox used to say-" I never want a word, but Pitt ever wants the word." The story occurs in many memoirs of the time.-L. E.

The grave of Mr. Fox, in Westminster Abbey, is within eighteen inches of that of Mr. Pitt:

"Where-taming thought to human pride!-
The mighty chiefs sleep side by side.

Drop upon Fox's grave the tear,

'T will trickle to his rival's bier :

O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound,
And Fox's shall the notes rebound:
The solemn echo seems to cry-
'Here let their discord with them die;
Speak not for those a separate doom,
Whom fate made brothers in the tomb;
But search the land of living men,
Where wilt thou find their like again?""
Sir Walter Scott.-L. E.

And desolation; while his native Greece
Hath all of desolation, save its peace.
He "wept for worlds to conquer!" he who ne'er
Conceived the globe he panted not to spare!
With even the busy Northern Isle unknown,
Which holds his urn, and never knew his throne. (4)

III.

But where is he, the modern, mightier far,
Who, boru no king, made monarchs draw his car;
The new Sesostris, whose unharness'd kings, (5)
Freed from the bit, believe themselves with wings,
And spurn the dust o'er which they crawl'd of late,
Chain'd to the chariot of the chieftain's state?
Yes! where is he, the champion and the child
Of all that's great or little, wise or wild?
Whose game was empires, and whose stakes were
thrones ?

Whose table earth-whose dice were human bones?
Behold the grand result in yon lone isle, (6)
And, as thy nature urges, weep or smile.
Sigh to behold the eagle's lofty rage
Reduced to nibble at his narrow cage;
Smile to survey the queller of the nations
Now daily squabbling o'er disputed rations;
Weep to perceive him mourning, as he dines,
O'er curtail'd dishes and o'er stinted wines;
O'er petty quarrels upon petty things:

Is this the man who scourged or feasted kings?
Behold the scales in which his fortune hangs,
A surgeon's (7) statement, and an earl's (8) harangues!
A bust delay'd, (9) a book refused, can shake
The sleep of him who kept the world awake.
Is this indeed the tamer of the great,
Now slave of all could tease or irritate-
The paltry gaoler (10) and the prying spy,
The staring stranger with his note-book nigh? (11)
Plunged in a dungeon, he had still been great;
How low, how little, was this middle state,

(4) A sarcophagus, of breccia, supposed to have contained the dust of Alexander, which came into the possession of the English army, in consequence of the capitulation of Alexandria, in February, 1802, was presented by George III. to the British Museum.-L. E.

(5) Sesostris is said, by Diodorus, to have had his chariot drawn by eight vanquished sovereigns:

"High on his car Sesostris struck my view,
Whom scepter'd slaves in golden harness drew;
His hands a bow and pointed javelin hold,
His giant limbs are arm'd in scales of gold."
Pope's Temple of Fame.-L. E.

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