They bravely fought, whilst we lay lingering O! what a fated blow to strike me thus ! Their close-piked ranks in goodly order spread, Bas. Would I were laid a red, disfigured corse, Amid those heaps! they fought, and we were absent! ACT V. SCENE I-A DARK NIGHT; NO MOON, BUT A FEW Enter BASIL with his hat off, his hair and his dress in Bas. No sound is here: man is at rest, and I No streaming light doth from her chamber beam, (Walks about distractedly, then stops short.) And bless her still. All now is dark for me! Who sent thee here? Mess. Piscaro sent me to inform Count Basil, I will to quarters, narrow quarters go, [EXIT. Mess. I'll follow after him; he is distracted: And yet he looks so wild I dare not do it. Enter VICTORIA as if frightened, followed by ISABELLA. Vict. (to Isab.) Didst thou not mark him as he pass'd thee too? (Pauses for some time and looks upon the graves.) In some lone spot must lay my unburied corse, Isab. I saw him pass, but with such hasty steps I The haunt of damned sprites. O cursed wretch! had no time. Vict. I met him with a wild disorder'd air, In furious haste; he stopp'd distractedly, And gazed upon me with a mournful look, In the fair and honour'd field shouldst thou have died, Where brave friends, proudly smiling through their tears, But pass'd away, and spoke not. Who art thou? Had pointed out the spot where Basil lay! (To the Messenger.) I fear thou art a bearer of bad tidings. (A light seen in Victoria's window.) But ha! the wonted, welcome light appears. Mess. No, rather good as I should deem it, How bright within I see her chamber wall! madam, Although unwelcome tidings to Count Basil. Our army hath a glorious battle won; Athwart it too, a darkening shadow moves, Ten thousand French are slain, their monarch cap- That drooping head? alas! is she in sorrow? Alas! thou sweet enchantress of the mind, tive. Vict. (to Mess.) Ah, there it is! he was not in Whose voice was gladness, and whose presence Mess. Nay, lady, by your leave, you seem not In some dark den from human sight conceal'd, 'Tis but the mournful breeze that passes by? (Pauses again, and gazes at the window, till the SCENE II.—A WOOD, WILD AND SAVAGE; AN ENTRY light disappears.) 'Tis gone, 'tis gone! these eyes have seen their last! The last impression of her heavenly form: Enter GEOFFRY from behind a tomb Geof. O stay, my general! Art thou from the grave? Geof. O my brave general! do you know me not? I am old Geoffry, the old maim'd soldier, Bas. Then go thy way, for thou art honourable: Thou hast no shame, thou need'st not seek the dark Like fall'n, fameless men. I pray thee go! Geof. Nay, speak not thus, my noble general! Ah! speak not thus! thou'rt brave, thou'rt honour'd still. Thy soldier's fame is far too surely raised Bas. Forbear, forbear! thy words but wring my soul. Geof. O pardon me! I am old maim'd Geoffry. O! do not go! I've but one hand to hold thee. (Laying hold of Basil as he attempts to go away. Basil stops, and looks around upon him with softness.) Bas. Two would not hold so well, old honour'd veteran ! What wouldst thou have me do? Geof. Return, my lord; for love of blessed heaven, Seek not such desperate ways! where would you go? Bas. Does Geoffry ask where should a soldier go To hide disgrace? there is no place but one. (Struggling to get free.) Let go thy foolish hold, and force me not To do some violence to thy hoary headWhat, wilt thou not? nay, then it must be so. (Breaks violently from him, and EXIT.) Geof. Cursed feeble hand! he's gone to seck perdition! TO A CAVE, VERY MUCH TANGLED WITH BRUSH WOOD, IS SEEN IN THE BACKGROUND. THE TIME REPRESENTS THE DAWN OF MORNING. BASIL IS DISCOVERED STANDING NEAR THE FRONT OF THE STAGE, IN A THOUGHTFUL POSTURE, WITH A COUPLE OF PISTOLS LAID BY HIM ON A PIECE OF PROJECTING ROCK; HE PAUSES FOR SOME TIME. Bas. (alone.) What shall I be some few short moments hence? Why ask I now? who from the dead will rise Or some dread thing, man's wildest range of thought I can bear scorpions' stings, tread fields of fire, Be toss'd aloft through tracks of endless void, Will the great God of mercy, mercy have (Pauses.) Will he not punish with a pitying hand Here is an entry to some darksome cave, I'll do it here. (Enters the cave and EXIT; a deep silence; then the report of a pistol is heard from the cave, and soon after, Enter Rosinberg, Valtomer, two Officers and Soldiers, almost at the same moment by different sides of the stage.) Ros. This way the sound did come. Valt. How came ye, soldiers? heard ye that report ? 1st Sol. We heard it, and it seem'd to come from hence, Which made us this way hie. Ros. A horrid fancy darts across my mind. (A groan heard from the cave.) (To Valt.) Ha! heard'st thou that? Valt. Methinks it is the groan of one in pain. (A second groan.) Ros. Ha! there again! SCENE III. THE INSIDE OF THE CAVE. BASIL discovered lying on the ground, with his head raised a little upon a few stones and earth, the pistols lying beside him, and blood upon his breast. Enter ROSINBERG, VALTOMER, and OFFICERS. Rosinberg, upon seeing Basil, stops short with horror, and remains motionless for some time. Valt. Great God of heaven! what a sight is this! (Rosinberg runs to Basil, and stoops down. by his side.) Ros. (making a sign for the Officers to retire.) "Tis but a sentry, to prevent intrusion. Bas. Thou know'st this desperate deed from Hath shut me out: I am unbless'd of men, Ros. O Basil! O my friend! what hast thou May not some heavenly mercy still be found? done ? Bas. (covering his face with his hand.) Why art thou come? I thought to die in peace. Ros. Thou know'st me not—I am thy Rosinberg, Thy dearest, truest friend, thy loving kinsmaa ! Thou dost not say to me, Why art thou come ? Bas. Shame knows no kindred: I am fall'n, disgraced; My fame is gone, I cannot look upon thee. Ros. My Basil, noble spirit! talk not thus ! The greatest mind untoward fate may prove : Thou art our generous, valiant leader still, Fall'n as thou art and yet thou art not fall'n; Who says thou art, must put his harness on, And prove his words in blood. Bas. Ah Rosinberg! this is no time to boast! For that I now remember how oft-times Ros. (taking Basil's hand, and pressing it to his breast.) Rend not my heart in twain! O talk not thus ! I knew thou wert superior to myself, Bas. It was delusion, all delusion, Rosinberg' Bas. It doubles unto me the stroke of death To hear thee name her thus. O curse her not! The fault is mine; she's gentle, good and blamcless. Thou wilt not then my dying wish fulfil ? Ros. I will! I will! what wouldst thou have me do? Bas. See her when I am gone; be gentle with her; Ros. I'll do what thou desirest. near. Ros. Thou wilt find mercy-my beloved BasilIt cannot be that thou shouldst be rejected. I will with bended knee-I will imploreIt choaks mine utterance—I will pray for thee— Bas. This comforts me-thou art a loving friend. (A noise without.) Ros. (to Off. without.) What noise is that? Enter VALTOMER. Valt. (to Ros) My lord, the soldiers all insist to enter. What shall I do? they will not be denied: They say that they will see their noble general. Bas. Ah, my brave fellows! do they call me so? Ros. Then let them come! Enter SOLDIERS, who gather round BASIL, and look mournfully upon him; he holds out his hand to them with a faint smile. Bas. My generous soldiers, this is kindly meant. I'm low in the dust; God bless you all, brave hearts! 1st Sol. And God bless you, my noble, noble general! We'll never follow such a leader more. 2d Sol. Ah! had you stayed with us, my noble general, We would have died for you. (3d Soldier endeavours next to speak, but cannot ; and kneeling down by Basil, covers his face with his cloak. Rosinberg turns his face to the wall and weeps.) Bas. (in a very faint broken voice.) Where art thou? do not leave me, Rosinberg Come near to me-these fellows make me weep: Ros. Is there aught thou wouldst desire? Bas. Naught but a little earth to cover me, And lay the smooth sod even with the groundLet no stone mark the spot-give no offence. I fain would say what can I say to thee? (A deep pause; after a feeble struggle, Basil expires.) 1st Sol. That motion was his last. 2d Sol. His spirit's fled. 1st Sol. God grant it peace! it was a noble spirit! 4th Sol. The trumpet's sound did never rouse a braver. 1st Sol. Alas! no trumpet e'er shall rouse him more, (Raising his head a little, and perceiving Of-Until the dreadful blast that wakes the dead. ficers.) Is there not some one here? are we alone? 2d Sol. And when that sounds it will not wake a braver. 3d Sol. How pleasantly he shared our hardest toil! Our coarsest food the daintiest fare he made. 4th Sol. Ay, many a time, i' the cold damp plain has he With cheerful countenance cried, "Good rest, my Then wrapp'd him in his cloak, and laid him down Valt. This is too sad, my lord. Vict. (recovering.) Unloose thy hold, and let me O! horrid, horrid sight! my ruin'd Basil! (Kneels down by the body and bends over it.) These wasted streams of life! this bloody wound! (Laying her hand upon his heart.) Is there no breathing here? all still! all cold. Ros. There, seest thou how he lies? so fix'd, so And dost not hear my call. pale? Ah! what an end is this! thus lost! thus fall'n! Ros. He was the younger brother of my soul. Ros. He was-O! he was like no other man! Ros. Valt. Shall we not remove him hence? Ros. He has forbid it, and has charged me well To leave his grave unknown; for that the church All sacred rites to the self-slain denies. He would not give offence. 1st Sol. What shall our general, like a very Be laid unhonour'd in the common ground? No warlike honours paid? it shall not be. 2d Sol. Laid thus? no, by the blessed light of heaven! In the most holy spot in Mantua's walls He shall be laid: in face of day be laid; Ros. No, madam; now your pity comes too late. it! Ros. No, madam, no, I will not now upbraid: Vict. No, never, never! thus it shall not be. I'm fretted, gall'd, all things are hateful to me. (Victoria goes to throw herself upon the body but Vict. O force me not away! by his cold corse, And though black priests should curse us in the If there is any holy kindness in you, teeth, We will fire o'er him whilst our hands have power Tear me not hence. Several Soldiers. Let those who dare forbid it! now, For see a mournful visiter appears, Enter VICTORIA and ISABELLA. Vict. I thought to find him here, where has he fled? (to Isab. and Valt.) For he loved me in thoughtless folly lost, Near his lone tomb I'll spend my wretched days (Rosinberg points to the body without speaking. It doth subdue the sternness of my grief thee. Ros. Give me thy hand, I'm glad on't, O! I'm glad on't! It should be so! How like a hateful ape To close the oppressive splendour of his day, Man. I marvel wherefore too, my honest Jerome: But here we are; prithee be kind to us. Jer. Most heartily I will. I love your master: He is a quiet and a liberal man: A better inmate never cross'd my door. Man. Ah! but he is not now the man he was. Liberal he'll be. God grant he may be quiet. Jer. What has befall'n him? Man. I cannot tell thee; But faith, there is no living with him now. Jer. And yet methinks, if I remember well, You were about to quit his service, Manuel, When last he left this house. You grumbled then. Man. I've been upon the eve of leaving him These ten long years; for many times is he So difficult, capricious, and distrustful, He galls my nature-yet, I know not how, A secret kindness binds me to him still. Jer. Some, who offend from a suspicious nature, Will afterward such fair confession make As turns e'en th' offence into a favour. Man. Yes, some indeed do so: so will not he: He'd rather die than such confession make. Jer. Ay, thou art right; for now I call to mind I did him some slight service, o' the sudden His o'erstrain'd gratitude and bounty well, I would have left him many years ago, |