 | The Secret Tribunal |  |
7
Enter RATIBOR.
The promis'd day of power at length dawns on me:
One daring step will seat me on a throne.
The Duke returns but slenderly attended,
A band of brave associates shall assail him,
And rid me of my only bar, this Brother!
Curse on my mind for conjuring up that term!
To that word prejudice and folly join
Sensations, deadly to ambition.
And yet, fraternal discord is as common
As any rebel passion of our natures,
And the first blood, that stain'd the new-made earth,
Envy shed forth, and by a brother's hand.
But see, where Ida comes to still this tempest.
Enter IDA.
My Lord, your sister charg'd me to enquire,
If your Grace knows when to expect the Duke?
Alas, I fear he will arrive too late,
And find his angel wife a speechless corse.
RATIBOR.
Your fears, dear maid, outrun all likelihood—
With her physicians I have held some converse,
And they incline to give me better hopes.
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My Lord, my constant view of her condition
Forbids me to indulge such grateful thoughts.
Her patient temper yields not to complaint,
But all the healing art will ne'er prevail,
If symptoms may be known of dissolution.
RATIBOR.
O mis-becoming terrors! Think ye not
The presence of her husband will dispose
Her drooping powers to happy renovation?
Trust me no cordial to the heart has force
Equal to him, whose image it enfolds.
IDA.
This I can well believe.
RATIBOR.
And why my fair one?
Has any suitor yet upon thy heart
Impress'd indelibly his gay perfections?
This is a perilous spot for youthful beauty.
IDA.
I am unconscious of such indiscretion.
RATIBOR.
The soft confession of your eye denies
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I had expected, to a friend like me,
Not youthful, and thus fit for confidence,
A warm eulogium on some favour'd swain.
IDA.
At whom thus points your Grace?
RATIBOR.
Perhaps at Herman.
He has discernment—You have youth and beauty.
It is, as I suspected.
(aside)
IDA.
Sure, my Lord,
You do not deem your handmaid so presuming!
The Prince is dearly amiable—but I,
Born in an humble sphere, attract not him.
RATIBOR.
O disregard the difference of rank,
Love levels the distinctions of the world,
And raises up the Peasant to the Prince.
Perhaps your beauties have obtain'd an interest
In rank to his superior far—I've said it.
Your prudence will digest the hint at leisure.
Say to the Dutchess, that my royal Brother
Has left the camp, and will be here to-morrow.
At some, not distant period, loveliest Ida,
10
Adieu! a splendid lot awaits you.
[Exit.
IDA.
(Curtesies low, and arises with an expression of terror.)
How!
Did I hear rightly? What said Ratibor?
Interest obtain'd in far superior rank!
It is too clear—O my beloved Herman,
What fiend has started thee so dread a rival?
Enter HERMAN.
My love, if ent'ring now, my ears deceiv'd not,
I heard my name, and coupled with a rival!
Give me the cause of that alarming junction.
IDA.
O Prince, I beg you leave me to my fate!
I was not fram'd to be the sport of greatness;
And, little suited to its flowery bands,
Suffer me to obliterate the past,
And fly distinction, that would make me wretched.
HERMAN.
What sudden change is this? O tell me, Ida,
Speak clearly, instantly, lest my despair
Dash your fond victim senseless at your feet—
Thou said'st I had a rival! Who is he?
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May dare him to contest his claims with me,
And rid you of the suit—
IDA.
Of Ratibor.
HERMAN.
My uncle! then indeed I find a rival,
The most pernicious that my mind could image!
His influence with the Duke, and more his power
As a chief member of that dreadful band,
Who judge in secret—nay the constant hate
Which spite of artifice, I know he bears me—
All call for double vigilance against him.
IDA.
O, Herman, why should I excite a contest,
Where most I wish for harmony and love?
Let me retire, and peace will be restor'd.
HERMAN.
No, I disdain the creeping timid prudence,
That gives up honour to make sure of safety.
To your dear father, I have frankly pleaded
That passion which must govern all my life:
By him referr'd where most I owe allegiance,
I'll trust to goodness which has ever flow'd
From Wirtemberg upon his favour'd Herman.
[Exeunt.
12
RATIBOR
enters.
Since I have form'd this bold design, a cold
And aguish tremor shakes my very flesh,
And my heart heaves at every noise around me:
When the alarm subsides, a chilly dew
Bathes all my limbs—And yet it is'n't done!
How when he falls beneath the hireling dagger?
A diadem! will that repay these shudders?
The essay may soon be made, for here comes Rudolph.
Enter RUDOLPH.
(Dressed as a Member of the Secret Tribunal.)
My Lord, I wait your ultimate directions.
The sums of gold have silenc'd every scruple;
Your Brother dies, had he a thousand lives.
RATIBOR.
Name not the hated tie to me, good Rudolph.
The troops, you say, are well dispos'd and ready—
His way lies through the wood that skirts the town;
There then assault him; and, remember, friend,
Transfix the body to some blighted oak,
And leave the weapon there; the deed will then
Seem the just vengeance of the Secret Judges,
And none will question the proceeding further.
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Not of a Prince so slain?
RATIBOR.
Art thou to learn
The pow'r by the invisibles possess'd?
Which makes the Emperor tremble on his throne.
And, through this country more especially,
Judges and punishes in secresy.
He is a heretick, the slave of Huss,
And therefore blotted from the breast of love,
Devoted to destruction.
RUDOLPH.
Deem it done.
I shall acquaint you how we speed to-morrow.
RATIBOR.
Rudolph, remember, I expect your haste;
Exchange your dress, and come strait to my chamber.
RUDOLPH.
Ere noon, my Lord, expect me.
[Exit.
14
Fare you well.
Would he had led me hence! fie on these terrors!
O guilt, that, seeking to conceal its purpose,
Flies to a spot, that aggravates the horror!
If any one should cross me in my path,
Would not my trembling limbs betray my purpose?
O, who can banish night, and talk down conscience?
The beams of day and revelry combin'd
May dissipate this sickness of the soul—
And then ambition crown'd! There's comfort still.
[Goes off in alarm.
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