 | The Secret Tribunal |  |
15
ACT II.
SCENE I.
A Wood.Enter DUKE WIRTEMBERG, and Train, assaulted.
[Exeunt.
Re-enter RUDOLPH, With his sword drawn and bloody.
Curse on this failing hand—the Duke escaped!
The country soon will rise, and vengeance reach me.
I dare not trust to Ratibor's protection.
Let me then fly!
Enter HERMAN.
Who talks of flight, the noise,
That echoes through the wood, speaks some attack,
And this man the assassin—yield thee, slave.
[They fight, in the scuffle both are disarmed, and Herman takes up Rudolph's sword, who rushes off with Herman's.]
His sword still stain'd with blood is in my hand!
Has treason dar'd attack our gracious Prince?
Here lay his path, and I had hope to meet him,
And so prepare him for the mournful visit.
16
Upon the blade I read a legend plainly—
“Regiment of Ratibor.” Ungrateful villain,
Thus to conspire against a brother's life—
But hark, what noise!
SOLDIERS, PEASANTS.
SOLDIER.
This way th'assassin fled.
Ha! this is he! assail him friends, the wretch,
Whose sword is recent from the bloody strife.
2d SOLDIER.
Yield, or thou dy'st—
HERMAN.
How, Soldiers! know ye not
Your Prince, 'tis Herman you assault thus rudely.
SOLDIER.
Herman! forgive me, Sir, we find you here,
With most suspicious circumstance attending;
You must submit, and go hence to the castle.
HERMAN.
I mean not to dispute your order, Soldiers,
Nor here explain myself—Before the Duke
I may disclose a mystery of horror.
17
Your sword, my Lord.
HERMAN.
Aye friend, be sure you keep it!
Unwip'd too—'tis your only testimony!
And may confound a traitor. To the Castle!
[Exeunt.
SCENE, RATIBOR'S Apartment.
He sitting, with a book.
By this the deed is done! how still the Palace!
Rudolph will soon be here to tell me all!
He dies then, and the black tale dies with him.
This can seal down the most loquacious tongue.
[Shews a poniard.]
My brain now akes with expectation—O!
The foot, that brings ambition to his aim,
Should be as swift as the keen northern wind,
And as invisible! I'll read awhile!
In vain! my eye courses o'er words and words,
From which no meaning strikes the wand'ring mind.
How, if he fail!—I hear a noise—He comes!
How weak was my alarm!
(triumphantly)
18
Well Rudolph? ha! my brother! Wirtemberg!
WIRTEMBERG.
I wonder not at your alarm, my brother,
To see me thus, by miracle I think,
Sav'd from the swords of an assassin band,
Who rush'd upon me, as, with slender train,
I journey'd through the wood.
RATIBOR.
You bleed, Sir,
Are you not hurt?
WIRTEMBERG.
But triflingly, I think.
Thanks to this mail within my outer garment.
The villains wore the habit, as it seem'd,
Of the associates to our secret Judges.
They might mistake me for some chief proscrib'd,
And thus attempted to inflict the sentence,
Which, usually, in unfrequented tracts,
Strikes the lost victim.
RATIBOR.
Rather say, my liege,
Some traitorous attempt to cut you off,
And instigated by a hidden foe.
19
I do not think I have one; for my power
Has still pursued alone my people's good.
Where is my nephew Herman?
RATIBOR.
Did he not
Return with you? He went, he said, to meet you,
And I fear—
WIRTEMBERG.
Speak plainly, brother,
Has Herman's conduct giv'n you ground to think?
I tremble to enquire—He hesitates!—
Unnatural boy—I lov'd him like a parent.
RATIBOR.
Sir, you outrun my fears, they pointed not
That way, although of late his conduct much
Is chang'd for dissolute and unbridled manners.
But who comes thus in haste?
Enter SOLDIER.
My liege, I grieve my duty bids me speak,
A most unwelcome truth—Our young Prince, Herman,
We o'ertook near the place of your attack,
20
To speak, in explanation, 'fore your grace.
RATIBOR.
What, has the devil work'd him to my toils?
This is beyond my hopes.
(aside)
WIRTEMBERG.
Accomplish'd villain!
Tell him, in me, his interest is gone.
Let him address himself unto our brother.
O, poison to the soul, obdurate vice,
Let but ambition touch the chords of feeling,
The strings relax and shrivel in the blaze,
And nature's stifled in the unnatural fire.
Dear Ratibor pity me, and take the seat
Of judgment more impartial than my own.
[Exit.
RATIBOR.
Bring up the Prince, and then attend without.
[Exit Soldier.
How! found so near, and thus a combatant,
Belike that Rudolph perish'd by his hand—
But he approaches.
HERMAN.
Where's the gracious Duke,
To whom my explanation is address'd?
21
His pow'r's in me, to bring thee to thy answer.
HERMAN.
Answer to thee! to a malicious foe,
And one, who, if appearances were righted,
Should stand suspected, not as I do wrongly.
Dar'st thou to breathe a doubt of my true love?
Look on me—shake not in the judgment seat.
RATIBOR.
An humbler tone would better suit the guiltless.
Wert thou not found, as they report the fact,
Near to the spot, where they attack'd the Duke,
And thy sword stain'd with gore?
HERMAN.
And this is true,
But yet you must not thence presume to think
Me the assassin.
RATIBOR.
Yes, and I accuse thee,
That, mov'd by hellish malice, thou hast suborn'd
A band of ruffians to assail the Duke—
22
O that this arm were not now weaponless!
But what still hinders, naked though I am,
That I should rush thus on thy coward frame,
And trample calumny beneath my foot.
RATIBOR
. (stamps with his foot.)
Enter SOLDIERS.
Seize him, and bear him hence to close confinement.
HERMAN.
Hark thee, thou very wretch—At the Tribunal
Where I shall meet this charge, I'll tell a tale
Shall blank the impudence of accusation.
Till then, take my defiance—for I know thee.
[Exit guarded.
RATIBOR.
'Tis well, that threat has arm'd me, The Tribunal!
But I may cut thy pleadings briefly boy.
Rudolph is slain, and known by him perhaps—
I'll send to seek the body instantly.
Re-enter WIRTEMBERG.
From the sad couch of exquisite disease
I turn to listen to ungrateful treason.
Bear with me brother, if this tide of evil
23
How brook'd the villain your interrogation?
RATIBOR.
As I expected, with outrageous fury:
Like some fierce savage struggling in the toils,
Whom the alarmed hunter views at hand,
He rush'd in powerless rage to seize my person;
The summon'd guards compell'd him then to prison.
WIRTEMBERG.
What urg'd he nothing in his mere defence?
RATIBOR.
Nothing; but on my head recrimination.
Unspotted truth makes malice impotent.
My personal wrongs shall not invade my justice.
WIRTEMBERG.
Give orders straight to bring him to his trial.
Now to my suffering love, o'er whom the dart
Of death yet menaces—not long in vain.
Though bred to horrors, in the school of battle
The soldier studies the grim tyrant's art,
And speculates innumerable wounds;
Restor'd to thy soft reign domestic peace,
He deeper mourns than others the decree,
Which tears his consolation from his arms.
[Exit.
24
Matilda must not live—should she recover,
A mewling Mammet might at length start up
And step between me and my promis'd good.
That Badendorff has prov'd a genuine leach;
Has pledg'd himself to push her from the verge,
If long she linger.—He shall be my physician.
No, hold you there—his conscience is too supple;
Another might outbid for his prescriptions.
[Exit.
SCENE, a Dungeon in the Castle.
Enter ULRIC, and then HERMAN.
HERMAN.
Come friend, conduct the innocent to prison.
Let murder and ambition roam at large,
Stab in the day, and none avenge the deed—
I ask'd but to be heard, and was denied.
ULRIC.
Dear Prince, yet moderate this useless rage.
All that the limited authority
I have, can give you, gratitude supplies,
However end the cause that now confines you.
25
My comfort is, that I shall meet that fiend,
Where justice strikes the guilty.
ULRIC.
I am order'd,
By no means to confine you rigorously;
Your friends may have access to visit you.
HERMAN.
Ulric, I think thy friendship is a blessing,
Which no surmise alone can ever shake.
Wilt thou entreat the lovely Ida hither;
Her counsel will sustain my resolution.
ULRIC.
I will dear Prince—and suffer no intrusion.
But I'm prevented—lo, she comes to seek you.
[Exit.
Enter IDA.
Where is he—let me clasp him to my heart!
Away with coy and maidenly reserve,
Let modesty be bold when virtue suffers!
Have they writ there on that ingenuous front
The assassin's title?—'tis to blaspheme nature,
And make apocryphal her sacred text.—
26
Bear witness, gods, I joy in this disaster!
It has procur'd for me more genuine transport,
Than years of unsuspected life had giv'n.
Were I to die, I should depart in peace;
Thy love would waft my spirit into bliss.
O my soul's only hope—I've much to tell thee!
I've been betray'd, and deeply wrong'd, my Ida,
Even by the villain who conspir'd this treason.
IDA.
I heard the vague reports, how thou wert found—
Your sword too recently embath'd—
HERMAN.
My sword,
O, no! the sword the soldiers found upon me
Was none of mine—I met its flying master;
Engag'd him, in the scuffle we exchang'd
Our weapons—then the assassin fled—the sword,
Which had been his, upon my nearer view
Express'd its owner, “Officer to Ratibor.”
That circumstance must never pass our lips,
Until the judges call for my defence.
IDA.
And can you thus securely wait a trial?
27
The innocent know no alarm at justice.
IDA.
Not, when, in midnight secrecy and silence,
Judges disguis'd mysteriously decide,
Unknown, unseen, the terrors of mankind!—
I think my feeble frame would die with horror,
And find a grave ere prejudice could doom me.
HERMAN.
Think not, my Ida, their decisions partial—
Their eyes are every where—unseen they hear—
Their agents mingle in the walks of life,
And even our servants are their secret spies.
IDA.
Still Justice should not mask her awful face.
O, if there be a land, where equal laws
And open judgment are the claims of all,
Where those of our own rank pronounce upon us,
There true decision calls on punishment,
Temper'd in anger by enthroned Mercy.
HERMAN.
The vision lifts my soul—and thou my country,
May'st ere long emulate the “Isle of Glory.”
28
The good man will comply. Still art thou just.
IDA.
But are we sure, you ever may abide them?
He who could find a poniard for a brother,
May not await the uncertain march of judgment.
Ah then, my Prince, fly from assassination,
Fly to the humble mansion of my father,
Now while thus slackly guarded—
HERMAN.
How, my Ida,
Will that not be presumption of my guilt?
IDA.
To Wirtemberg at first perchance it may—
But, public summons to appear once issued,
You can explain your flight before the judges.
HERMAN.
Sure heav'n inspir'd that thought—I yield me to it.
Thy love shall nerve me to the prudent toil—
IDA.
O would my wish could give Herculean power!
Chains should be gossamer that clasps the rose,
And the strong fortress as the yielding corn,
Through which the light roe bounds her airy way.
29
Farewell, my love—be large in hope—
IDA
, (embracing).
Farewell!
[Exit.
HERMAN.
Now to explore my prison—ere the morn
I shall be free at least from private wrong.
O, how prevailing are love's arguments!
Light of my soul, accomplish all thy work!
[Exit.
END OF ACT II.
| The Secret Tribunal | |