University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A Valley amongst Wild Rocks, Bare and Barren.
Otto, alone.
Otto.
Still succour comes not. Once again the sun,
Whose fervid brightness pouring blessings down
O'er all the land, hardening to golden grain
The milky seed of the harvest, mellowing
The luscious juices of the pulpy grape
Till it burst of over-fullness; that bright sun,
Whose glories mock our miseries, once again
Sinks in the west. I will but wait for darkness,
Then from this bare rock, where the parching beam
Hath drunk the runlets dry, I'll sweep at once
On man, his homes, his vineyards. Oh, to watch
As I have watched my brave boy, hour by hour,
Fading beside me, famishing, perishing!—
I will not see him perish! No, by Heaven!
They mated us with vultures and with wolves,
Like them we were to die. Do wolves and vultures
Behold their younglings starve afore their eyes,
And leave untouched the folds?
Enter Ulric.
Ulric, my child,
Thou hast been from me long. Hast thou again
Been visiting the spring whose gentle fount
This hot and merciless sun hath dried? My boy,
How joyfully I'd give my blood for water
To cool those poor parched lips! my flesh for food
To nourish thee!

Ul.
I've seen what's dearer, father,
Than water to parched lips—a friend.

Otto.
What friend?
Isidore? Ida?

Ul.
Ida's foster-brother,
Old Rudolf's grandson, Herman. I saw him,
And he saw me. I had been to the spring—
Nay, I'm not now athirst, that grief is past;
But if the fount had welled again, I thought
To have brought a draught for thee.

Otto.
Thou break'st my heart
With thy brave patience. Oh, that he may bring
Succour! He saw thee?

Ul.
Yes, I flung the purse
With my name wrought on't that poor Ida gave me.
He'll come.

Otto.
Then cheer thee, boy! Take hope! take heart!
We'll to the Holy Land, and win once more
Name, fame, and honour. Cheer thee.

Ul.
I am cheery.
I have good cause to be so. Tell me, father,
They that have never sinned, other than all
Sin in the sight of angels; they who die
Too young for mortal crime to tarnish quite
The innocence that's born with them; they'll go
To heaven?

Otto.
Yes, yes.

Ul.
And they that having sinned
Repent?

Otto.
They also.

Ul.
Well, is that no hope
For me, for thee?

Otto.
O God! O God!

Ul.
Have patience
Thou that for thine own suffering takest no heed.
Grieve not for mine. Hunger and thirst are dead
Within me now. I have no pain. I'm light
And strong.

Otto.
Ay, as the momentary flash
Of the expiring lamp; the strength that grapples
With Death a breathing space, then drops.

Ul.
Good father,
When Herman comes, we'll home to Wittelsbach.
I know its towers are fallen, but the trees,
The running waters, and the pleasant lawns
Be there. The home where we have lived in peace
And love, oh! that's the holiest land! We'll find
Shelter amid the ruined halls.

Otto.
Accurst
For ever be the moody, wild despair
Which drove me from those walls in cowardly flight!
We should have held out 'gainst a legion, fought
Till none was left to slay, till not a stone
Of that vast pile but tottered. Then 't had fallen
Graced with a hecatomb of friends and foes,
Fit grave of our great race. A sepulchre
So stern and warlike 't had outvied the tombs
Of Eastern monarchs by the slimy Nile,
And made the huge and mystic Pyramids
Seem slight and trivial toys. Now—Yes, 'tis meet
We go there. So the hunted stag returns
To his old lair to die.