 | Basil |  |
SCENE I.
The street before Basil's lodging.Enter Rosinberg and two Officers.
Ros.
(speaking as he enters).
Unless we find him quickly, all is lost.
1st Off.
His very guards, methinks, have left their post
To join the mutiny.
Ros.
(knocking very loud).
Holla! who's there within? confound this door!
It will not yield. O for a giant's strength!
Holla, holla, within! will no one hear?
Enter a porter from the house.
Ros.
(eagerly to the porter).
Is he return'd? is he return'd? not yet!
Thy face doth tell me so.
Port.
Not yet, my lord.
Ros.
Then let him ne'er return!—
Tumult, disgrace, and ruin have their way!
I'll search for him no more.
Port.
He hath been absent all the night, my lord.
Ros.
I know he hath.
2nd Off.
And yet 'tis possible
He may have enter'd by the secret door;
And now, perhaps, in deepest sleep entranc'd,
Is dead to ev'ry sound.
[Ros., without speaking, rushes into the house, and the rest follow him.
Enter Basil.
Bas.
The blue air of the morning pinches keenly.
Beneath her window all the chilly night,
I felt it not. Ah! night has been my day;
And the pale lamp which from her chamber gleam'd,
Has to the breeze a warmer temper lent
Than the red burning east.
Re-enter Rosinberg, &c. from the house.
Ros.
Himself! himself! he's here! he's here! O Basil!
What fiend at such a time could lead thee forth?
Bas.
What is the matter that disturbs you thus?
Ros.
Matter that would a wiser man disturb.
Treason's abroad: thy men have mutinied.
Bas.
It is not so; thy wits have mutinied,
And left their sober station in thy brain.
1st Off.
Indeed, my lord, he speaks in sober earnest.
Some secret enemies have been employ'd
To fill your troops with strange imaginations:
As though their gen'ral would, for selfish gain,
Their gen'rous valour urge to desp'rate deeds.
All to a man, assembled on the ramparts,
Now threaten vengeance, and refuse to march.
Bas.
What! think they vilely of me? threaten too!
O! most ungen'rous, most unmanly thought!
Didst thou attempt (to Ros.)
to reason with their folly?
Folly it is; baseness it cannot be.
Ros.
Yes, truly, I did reason with a storm,
And bid it cease to rage.—
Their eyes look fire on him who questions them:
The hollow murmurs of their mutter'd wrath
36
Like subterraneous grumblings of an earthquake.
— The vengeful hurricane
Does not with such fantastic writhings toss
The woods' green boughs, as does convulsive rage
Their forms with frantic gestures agitate.
Around the chief of hell such legions throng'd,
To bring back curse and discord on creation.
Bas.
Nay they are men, although impassion'd ones.
I'll go to them—
Ros.
And we will stand by thee.
My sword is thine against ten thousand strong,
If it should come to this.
Bas.
No, never, never!
There is no mean: I with my soldiers must
Or their commander or their victim prove.
But are my officers all staunch and faithful?
Ros.
All but that devil, Fred'ric—
He, disappointed, left his former corps,
Where he, in truth, had been too long neglected,
Thinking he should all on the sudden rise,
From Basil's well-known love of valiant men;
And now, because it still must be deferr'd,
He thinks you seek from envy to depress him,
And burns to be reveng'd.
Bas.
Well, well — This grieves me too —
But let us go.
[Exeunt.
| Basil | |