University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE LAST.

—A Dungeon.
Muhldenau asleep on a couch—Meeta sitting near, with Adolpha kneeling by her, sleeping with her head on Meeta's lap.
Enter Lieutenant.
Meeta.
Softly!—They sleep!—Your news is bad?

Lieut.
It is. The answer is arrived. With fruitless search
They have sought the Governor. Not finding him,
On me, as second in command, devolved
The painful task to break the packet open,
Which gives no hope of life.

Meeta.
It was expected:
We are prepared.—So, please you softly tread,
As you depart again.— [Lieutenant goes out.]
—He has awaked her!—
Sleep, sister, sleep!

Adol.
[Starting.]
What time of night is it?

Meeta.
It is no longer night, but morning, sister.

Adol.
Morning?

Meeta.
The chimes of a new day have struck
Again and yet again!

Adol.
How often, sister?

Meeta.
Thrice.

Adol.
It is very still.

Meeta.
Too still, but we shall hear
The sound of stirring shortly.

Adol.
You are sure?

Meeta.
I am.

Adol.
You comfort me!—you are so calm!

Meeta.
Sister, we both had need be calm!—Look there!

Adol.
How sound our father sleeps!—Knows he our hope?

Meeta.
No!—it might draw his thoughts from better hope:
From hope that doth ever in possession end;
Hope that hath naught of earth in it, to crumble
I' the grasping. Sister, you don't know my father!—
On earth, he has lived in heaven;—Don't fear for him!
He is that happy man, who is prepared
To live or die!

Adol.
He will not die!

Meeta.
Speak softly!
He is awaked! It can't be help'd. Dear sister,
Let it not melt thee, should he talk of death.
For tears are catching things, and nature's nature,
Long as it breathes. Let's countenance the calm
Which his pure spirit keeps.

Muhl.
Meeta.

Meeta.
Here, father.

Muhl.
What, both my children!—both!—Adolpha, too!
Is not this merciful, to have you here?
That my last earthward sigh I am permitted
To breathe upon your heads in blessing you?
What is the time, my Meeta?—How far on
Is my last day within this prison-house?
These walls of clay, in which the spirit's pent—
That's going back to him who lodged it here!
'Tis nothing else! How easy, then, to die,
To him who thinks it so! What is the time?

Meeta.
Another day is onward.

Muhl.
To that window
Comes the first beam that's herald of the sun—
See if there's sign of the fair messenger,
Or shall I do't, my child?

Meeta.
No, father.

Muhl.
Well,
How is it?—Is there mark on the horizon—
A blending as of light with darkness, or
Something that's plainer?—Tell me, child! Mine eye
Is fix'd on day, to which noonday is night!

Meeta.
'Tis early morning—a dun glow—almost
A streak.

Muhl.
The boundary of yesterday
Is cross'd some hours. Come hither, both of you.
Kneel down! The longest time that man may live,
The lapse of generations of his race,
The continent entire of time itself,
Bears not proportion to eternity,
Huge as the fraction of a grain of dew
Co-measured with the broad unbounded ocean!
There is the time of man—his proper time:
Looking at which, this life is but a gust,
A puff of breath, that's scarcely felt ere gone!
Then comes a calm that lasts. My youngest one,
Least known, but not less loved—My Meeta—

Meeta.
Father,
Am not I part of both?

Muhl.
My noble child!
My Christian-trainéd child! I did thee wrong
To fear exception thou mightest take at that
Which made my children equal. My found one!
My blessings on thee full as upon her,
That never left my side. Join hands with her!
Love her for ever! as thyself. Two hearts
That join in truth, become a wall of rock,
'Gainst which the surges of the world may lash,
But only break themselves.

Adol.
I hear a noise!
'Tis—

Meeta.
Sister, peace. What heeds a noise?

Muhl.
I think
I heard it too—and understand it; but
Whate'er it is, it matters not to me.
I see—the light comes on. Meeta, my child,
Thy father gives thee thanks for hours and hours
Of happiness. You have let fall her hand—
Take it again—never let go the love
That now unites thy sister's hand to thine!
And take thy father's blessing, free and full,
Which Heaven attests that thou hast merited,
Who never wast but dutiful to me!

[Noises nearer.
Adol.
Hear you the sounds again, and louder?

Meeta.
Peace!
Dear sister, if it is to come, it will.

[Noises again, and nearer yet.
Muhl.
What, Meeta? These are not accustom'd sounds.
There is a shining something in thine eye,
That looks like hope—and thine, my other child!
My children! is there hope? I'm human still!
I'll live for you, my children.— [Noises again.]
Those are shouts.
They move not with such sounds who come to see
The spectacle of an untimely death—
For human nature, howsoever wild,
Is human still.

[Noise very loud, as of a general attack.
Meeta.
Yes, father, there is hope!
Enter Lieutenant.
What come you for?

Lieut.
The prisoner

Meeta.
For what?

Lieut.
To place him in securer keeping.

Meeta.
Hence!
He's in his children's arms—or leave him here,
Or take us altogether.

[Shouts, and reports of musketry and cannon.
Soldier enters.
Soldier.
You are call'd for
[To Lieutenant.
To look to our defence! They come upon us
A thousand men to once—the castle's lost!

Adol.
He's saved—

Meeta.
Not yet!

[Noise as of something giving way and falling.
Adol.
Hear you—They burst the gates!

Meeta.
It may be something else.

Muhl.
Ah, now to die—
[Noise as of people ascending.
Were pain!

Adol.
The rush of steps!

Rup.
[without].
Burst in the door.

Meeta.
'Tis Rupert's voice—My father's saved—He lives!

Rup.
[Bursting in with others.]
My Meeta! honour'd father!—we have come
With life and liberty!

Meeta.
We thank you, Rupert!
Rupert, I knew you would not let him die!
How far is Prague your own?

Rup.
This quarter, Meeta,
Which yet commands the rest! This post was long
Our general's aim! yet he so doubtful kept
His eagle hovering, the mighty pounce
Your strait accelerated, none could guess,
Until his fated quarry felt its power!

Meeta.
Send trusty friends, and strong, along with me;
Speak not, but let thy answer be the act.

Rup.
Dismiss your care! It is not needed, Meeta.
The faithful Hebrew met me in advancing,
And took in charge a chose band to watch
Success, and bring thy friends to thee.—By this
I doubt not they are here—
Enter Joseph, conducting General Kleiner and Idenstein.
The Governor?

Gen. Kle.
Yes, sir,—but not your prisoners—that honour
These ladies claim.

Adol.
Forgive us, father!

Gen. Kle.
What!
Now thou hast found thy father?

Adol.
Father still!

Muhl.
Give me the Hebrew's hand—the Christian's friend—
His elder brother, though with difference.

Jos.
All men should thus be brothers.

Hans.
We shall have
Our honeymoon at last.

Esther.
Be silent, Hans.

Meeta.
Let all be silent, save the grateful hearts,
That speak in humble confidence to you.

[To the audience.