University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Holstein's House.
HOLSTEIN and ELLEN.
HOLSTEIN.
Although now past the exercise of arms,
And in inglorious ease condemn'd to waste
The brief remains of life—My fancy ranges
With our brave Prince th'experienced files of war,
And paints him governing the course of battle;
Beholds him strike the opposer to the ground,
And aids his pity to relieve the fallen.

ELLEN.
Heaven's grace preserve him to his happy people!
I grieve no welcome waits on his return,
Where it would charm the most, upon the brow
Of our beloved Duchess.

HOLSTEIN.
Her complaint,
Yields it not then to time and medicine?
Has Ida lately been here from the Palace?

ELLEN.
Not lately—for our lovely child has gain'd
So warm a seat within the generous breast
Of our dear mistress, that she seems to live
But while her duteous services are paid;
And every help is minister'd by Ida.

HOLSTEIN.
Danger may lurk beneath such proud distinction.
The favourite of a Prince is doom'd to feed
On hollow smiles, and envious adulation:
To raise, or to repulse, alike are fatal;
He rears ingratitude that will supplant him,
And all whom he repells are sworn his foes.

ELLEN.
Yet when her Highness sought the lovely child,
Struck by her beauty, innocence and youth,
Could we refuse her?

HOLSTEIN.
No, I mean not that.
But still my fondness aches for her return.
And, when the healing power shall deign to bless,
With former health, my royal mistress, then,
I will entreat her to restore our darling
To those, whom quiet shuns, while she is absent.

ELLEN.
But see, the nephew of Duke Wirtemberg;
The gentle Herman comes in haste from Court—
I hope his tidings are thus wing'd by comfort.
Enter HERMAN.
Health and the lengthen'd happiness of life,
Attend my much rever'd and valu'd friends.

HOLSTEIN.
We feel this honour sensibly, my Lord.
May we indulge a hope, your aunt recovers?

HERMAN.
We flatter still ourselves with the belief;
And what we pant for credulously coin;
But the physicians fear her—all the aids
Of science, and the many-breathed prayer
From holy lips, yet keep her from the skies.
The lovely Ida—

ELLEN.
Is my daughter well?

HERMAN.
She suffers but in sympathizing woe.
Her fondest greeting, to each honour'd parent,
Salutes you by my tongue.—She longs to see you.

ELLEN.
We've taught ourselves, to bear a tedious absence,
From which the slightest good results to one,
To whom we most owe duty and affection.

HERMAN,
My valiant friend, if now your leisure serves,
I could desire some private speech with you;
If not, I'll wait a fitter season.

HOLSTEIN.
Sir,
I am entirely your's. My dear your leave.

ELLEN.
Adieu, my Lord.

[Exit.
HERMAN.
I will not waste a moment
In idle preparation of my suit.
Thus speaking with the frankness of a soldier,
I lay my heart plainly, at once, before you.
The gracious Ida, your most beauteous daughter,
Has here inspir'd the most unbounded love.

HOLSTEIN.
Unwelcome tidings! O, my fears presag'd this.

[aside.
HERMAN.
I could not reconcile to manly conduct
A close clandestine furtherance of my passion;
To her most honour'd parent, I address me,
Court his indulgence, bow to his decision.

HOLSTEIN.
Young Prince, is this a time for such a theme,
Ev'n were I prone to listen to the honour,
When sickness menaces the throne itself?

HERMAN.
Spare this reproach, for even there, my friend,
Passion collected fuel to the flame,
And love illum'd his torch at pity's shrine.
I saw my Ida, like some angel, tend
The pillow of disease, whose pallid brow,
Flush'd at the comfort, which her care bestow'd;
While she, unwearied, all relief declin'd,
And seem'd th'embodied soul of consolation.

HOLSTEIN.
Excuse me, if I hear no more, young friend,
Your candour has my praise—is worthy of you.
I have a debt, like you, to open dealing.
My obligations to the Duke, my master,
Forbid my countenance, where his is wanting.
If he object not to your lowly choice,
I can find nought but honour in the union.

HERMAN.
My friend, my father, take my fervent thanks.
Ever indulgent, the thrice gracious Duke
Will never frown upon my chaste desires.
Adieu! may every bliss descend upon you,
That I have power to wish, or you enjoy.

[Exit.
HOLSTEIN.
Fare you well! rash and inconsiderate youth!
Such is the nature of that hour of prime!
The bud of young desire shoots unsuspecting,
Touch'd by the genial gales of ripening time;
Regardless of the wayward blasts of winter,
That smite the evening of a day all sunshine;
Blighting the unguarded bosom of the flow'r,
Whose form then withers, and its sweets expire.

[Exit.