The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[_Putting the key to his ear._
All very true!--but, good Fidelity! 75 If I refuse King Emerick, will you promise, And swear now, to unlock the dungeon door, And save me from the hangman? Aye! you're silent!
What, not a word in answer? A clear nonsuit!
Now for one look to see that all are lodged 80 At the due distance--then--yonder lies the road For Laska and his royal friend, King Emerick!
[_Exit LASKA. Then enter BATHORY and BETHLEN._
_Bethlen._ He looked as if he were some G.o.d disguised In an old warrior's venerable shape To guard and guide my mother. Is there not 85 Chapel or oratory in this mansion?
_Old Bathory._ Even so.
_Bethlen._ From that place then am I to take A helm and breast-plate, both inlaid with gold, And the good sword that once was Raab Kiuprili's.
_Old Bathory._ Those very arms this day Sarolta show'd me-- 90 With wistful look. I'm lost in wild conjectures!
_Bethlen._ O tempt me not, e'en with a wandering guess, To break the first command a mother's will Imposed, a mother's voice made known to me!
'Ask not, my son,' said she, 'our names or thine. 95 The shadow of the eclipse is pa.s.sing off The full orb of thy destiny! Already The victor Crescent glitters forth and sheds O'er the yet lingering haze a phantom light.
Thou canst not hasten it! Leave then to Heaven 100 The work of Heaven: and with a silent spirit Sympathize with the powers that work in silence!'
Thus spake she, and she looked as she were then Fresh from some heavenly vision!
[_Re-enter LASKA, not perceiving them._
_Laska._ All asleep!
[_Then observing BETHLEN, stands in idiot-affright._
I must speak to it first--Put--put the question! 105 I'll confess all! [_Stammering with fear._
_Old Bathory._ Laska! what ails thee, man?
_Laska (pointing to Bethlen)._ There!
_Old Bathory._ I see nothing! where?
_Laska._ He does not see it!
Bethlen, torment me not!
_Bethlen._ Soft! Rouse him gently!
He hath out.w.a.tched his hour, and half asleep, With eyes half open, mingles sight with dreams. 110
_Old Bathory._ Ho! Laska! Don't you know us! 'tis Bathory And Bethlen!
_Laska._ Good now! Ha! ha! An excellent trick.
Afraid? Nay, no offence! But I must laugh.
But are you sure now, that 'tis you, yourself?
_Bethlen._ Would'st be convinced?
_Laska._ No nearer, pray! consider! 115 If it should prove his ghost, the touch would freeze me To a tombstone. No nearer!
_Bethlen._ The fool is drunk!
_Laska._ Well now! I love a brave man to my heart.
I myself braved the monster, and would fain Have saved the false one from the fate she tempted. 120
_Old Bathory._ You, Laska?
_Bethlen (to Bathory)._ Mark! Heaven grant it may be so!
Glycine?
_Laska._ She! I traced her by the voice.
You'll scarce believe me, when I say I heard The close of a song: the poor wretch had been singing: As if she wished to compliment the war-wolf 125 At once with music and a meal!
_Bethlen (to Bathory)._ Mark that!
_Laska._ At the next moment I beheld her running, Wringing her hands with, 'Bethlen! O poor Bethlen!'
I almost fear, the sudden noise I made, Rus.h.i.+ng impetuous through the brake, alarmed her. 130 She stopt, then mad with fear, turned round and ran Into the monster's gripe. One piteous scream I heard. There was no second--I--
_Bethlen._ Stop there!
We'll spare your modesty! Who dares not honour Laska's brave tongue, and high heroic fancy? 135
_Laska._ You too, Sir Knight, have come back safe and sound!
You played the hero at a cautious distance!
Or was it that you sent the poor girl forward To stay the monster's stomach? Dainties quickly Pall on the taste and cloy the appet.i.te! 140
_Old Bathory._ Laska, beware! Forget not what thou art!
Should'st thou but dream thou'rt valiant, cross thyself!
And ache all over at the dangerous fancy!
_Laska._ What then! you swell upon my lady's favour, High Lords and perilous of one day's growth! 145 But other judges now sit on the bench!
And haply, Laska hath found audience there, Where to defend the treason of a son Might end in lifting up both son and father Still higher; to a height from which indeed 150 You both may drop, but, spite of fate and fortune, Will be secured from falling to the ground.
'Tis possible too, young man! that royal Emerick, At Laska's rightful suit, may make inquiry By whom seduced, the maid so strangely missing-- 155
_Bethlen._ Soft! my good Laska! might it not suffice, If to yourself, being Lord Casimir's steward, I should make record of Glycine's fate?
_Laska._ 'Tis well! it shall content me! though your fear Has all the credit of these lowered tones. 160 First we demand the manner of her death?
_Bethlen._ Nay! that's superfluous! Have you not just told us, That you yourself, led by impetuous valour, Witnessed the whole? My tale's of later date.
After the fate, from which your valour strove 165 In vain to rescue the rash maid, I saw her!
_Laska._ Glycine?
_Bethlen._ Nay! Dare I accuse wise Laska, Whose words find access to a monarch's ear, Of a base, braggart lie? It must have been Her spirit that appeared to me. But haply 170 I come too late? It has itself delivered Its own commission to you?
_Old Bathory._ 'Tis most likely!
And the ghost doubtless vanished, when we entered And found brave Laska staring wide--at nothing!
_Laska._ 'Tis well! You've ready wits! I shall report them, 175 With all due honour, to his Majesty!
