University of Virginia Library

Part I

THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED ‘THE USURPER'S FORTUNE’

Scene I

Front of the Palace with a magnificent Colonnade. On one side a military Guard-house. Sentries pacing backward and forward before the Palace. Chef Ragozzi, at the door of the Guard-house, as looking forwards at some object in the distance.
Chef Ragozzi.
My eyes deceive me not, it must be he,
Who but our chief, my more than father, who
But Raab Kiuprili moves with such a gait?
Lo! e'en this eager and unwonted haste
But agitates, not quells, its majesty.
My patron! my commander! yes, 'tis he!
Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes.

[Drums beat, &c., the Guard turns out.
Enter Raab Kiuprili.
Raab Kiuprili
(making a signal to stop the drums, &c.).
Silence! enough! This is no time, young friend,
For ceremonious dues. The summoning drum,
Th' air-shattering trumpet, and the horseman's clatter,
Are insults to a dying sovereign's ear.
Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your General greets you,
His loyal fellow-warriors.

[Guards retire.
Chef Ragozzi.
Pardon my surprise.
Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended!
What may these wonders prophesy?

Raab Kiuprili.
Tell me first,
How fares the king? His majesty still lives?

Chef Ragozzi.
We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends
(And none but they approach him) scoff at hope.

Raab Kiuprili.
Ragozzi! I have reared thee from a child,
And as a child I have reared thee. Whence this air
Of mystery? That face was wont to open
Clear as the morning to me, shewing all things.
Hide nothing from me.

Chef Ragozzi.
O most loved, most honoured,
The mystery that struggles in my looks
Betrayed my whole tale to thee, if it told thee
That I am ignorant; but fear the worst.
And mystery is contagious. All things here
Are full of motion: and yet all is silent:
And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears.

Raab Kiuprili.
I have trembling proof within how true thou speakest.

Chef Ragozzi.
That the prince Emerick feasts the soldiery,
Gives splendid arms, pays the commanders' debts,
And (it is whispered) by sworn promises
Makes himself debtor—hearing this, thou hast heard
All—
But what my lord will learn too soon himself.

Raab Kiuprili.
Ha!—Well then, let it come! Worse scarce can come.
This letter written by the trembling hand
Of royal Andreas calls me from the camp
To his immediate presence. It appoints me,
The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm,
And of the royal infant. Day by day,
Robbed of Zapolya's soothing cares, the king
Yearns only to behold one precious boon,
And with his life breathe forth a father's blessing.

Chef Ragozzi.
Remember you, my lord! that Hebrew leech
Whose face so much distempered you?

Raab Kiuprili.
Barzoni?
I held him for a spy; but the proof failing
(More courteously, I own, than pleased myself),
I sent him from the camp.

Chef Ragozzi.
To him, in chief,
Prince Emerick trusts his royal brother's health.

Raab Kiuprili.
Hide nothing, I conjure you! What of him?

Chef Ragozzi.
With pomp of words beyond a soldier's cunning,
And shrugs and wrinkled brow, he smiles and whispers!
Talks in dark words of women's fancies; hints
That 'twere a useless and a cruel zeal
To rob a dying man of any hope,
However vain, that soothes him: and, in fine,
Denies all chance of offspring from the Queen.

Raab Kiuprili.
The venomous snake! My heel was on its head,
And (fool!) I did not crush it!

Chef Ragozzi.
Nay, he fears
Zapolya will not long survive her husband.

Raab Kiuprili.
Manifest treason! Even this brief delay
Half makes me an accomplice—(If he live,)
[Is moving toward the palace.
If he but live and know me, all may—

Chef Ragozzi.
Halt!
[Stops him.
On pain of death, my Lord! am I commanded
To stop all ingress to the palace.

Raab Kiuprili.
Thou!

Chef Ragozzi.
No place, no name, no rank excepted—

Raab Kiuprili.
Thou!

Chef Ragozzi.
This life of mine, O take it, Lord Kiuprili!
I give it as a weapon to thy hands,
Mine own no longer. Guardian of Illyria,
Useless to thee, 'tis worthless to myself.
Thou art the framer of my nobler being;
Nor does there live one virtue in my soul,
One honourable hope, but calls thee father.
Yet ere thou dost resolve, know that yon palace
Is guarded from within, that each access
Is thronged by armed conspirators, watched by ruffians
Pampered with gifts, and hot upon the spoil
Which that false promiser still trails before them.
I ask but this one boon—reserve my life
Till I can lose it for the realm and thee!

Raab Kiuprili.
My heart is rent asunder. O my country,
O fallen Illyria, stand I here spell-bound?
Did my King love me? Did I earn his love?
Have we embraced as brothers would embrace?
Was I his arm, his thunder-bolt? And now
Must I, hag-ridden, pant as in a dream?
Or, like an eagle, whose strong wings press up
Against a coiling serpent's folds, can I
Strike but for mockery, and with restless beak
Gore my own breast?—Ragozzi, thou art faithful?

Chef Ragozzi.
Here before Heaven I dedicate my faith
To the royal line of Andreas.

Raab Kiuprili.
Hark, Ragozzi!
Guilt is a timorous thing ere perpetration:
Despair alone makes wicked men be bold.
Come thou with me! They have heard my voice in flight,
Have faced round, terror-struck, and feared no longer
The whistling javelins of their fell pursuers.
Ha! what is this?
[Black flag displayed from the Tower of the Palace: a deathbell tolls, &c.
Vengeance of Heaven! He is dead.

Chef Ragozzi.
At length then 'tis announced. Alas! I fear,
That these black death-flags are but treason's signals.

Raab Kiuprili.
A prophecy too soon fulfilled! See yonder!
O rank and ravenous wolves! the death-bell echoes
Still in the doleful air—and see! they come.

Chef Ragozzi.
Precise and faithful in their villainy
Even to the moment, that the master traitor
Had pre-ordained them.

Raab Kiuprili.
Was it over-haste,
Or is it scorn, that in this race of treason
Their guilt thus drops its mask, and blazons forth
Their infamous plot even to an idiot's sense?

Chef Ragozzi.
Doubtless they deem Heaven too usurp'd! Heaven's justice
Bought like themselves!
Being equal all in crime,
Do you press on, ye spotted parricides!
For the one sole pre-eminence yet doubtful,
The prize of foremost impudence in guilt?

Raab Kiuprili.
The bad man's cunning still prepares the way
For its own outwitting. I applaud, Ragozzi!
Ragozzi! I applaud,
In thee, the virtuous hope that dares look onward
And keeps the life-spark warm of future action
Beneath the cloak of patient sufferance.
Act and appear, as time and prudence prompt thee:
I shall not misconceive the part thou playest.
Mine is an easier part—to brave the usurper.

[Enter a procession of Emerick's Adherents, Nobles, Chieftains, and Soldiers, with Music. They advance toward the front of the stage. Kiuprili makes the signal for them to stop.—The Music ceases.
Leader of the Procession.
The Lord Kiuprili!—Welcome from the camp.

Raab Kiuprili.
Grave magistrates and chieftains of Illyria,
In good time come ye hither, if ye come
As loyal men with honourable purpose
To mourn what can alone be mourned; but chiefly
To enforce the last commands of royal Andreas
And shield the Queen, Zapolya: haply making
The mother's joy light up the widow's tears.

Leader.
Our purpose demands speed. Grace our procession;
A warrior best will greet a warlike king.

Raab Kiuprili.
This patent written by your lawful king,
(Lo! his own seal and signature attesting)
Appoints as guardians of his realm and offspring,
The Queen, and the Prince Emerick, and myself.
[Voices of Live King Emerick! an Emerick! an Emerick!
What means this clamour? Are these madmen's voices?
Or is some knot of riotous slanderers leagued
To infamize the name of the king's brother
With a lie black as Hell? unmanly cruelty,
Ingratitude, and most unnatural treason?
[Murmurs.
What mean these murmurs? Dare then any here
Proclaim Prince Emerick a spotted traitor?
One that has taken from you your sworn faith,
And given you in return a Judas' bribe,
Infamy now, oppression in reversion,
And Heaven's inevitable curse hereafter?
[Loud murmurs, followed by cries—Emerick! No Baby Prince! No Changelings!
Yet bear with me awhile! Have I for this
Bled for your safety, conquered for your honour?
Was it for this, Illyrians! that I forded
Your thaw-swoln torrents, when the shouldering ice
Fought with the foe, and stained its jagged points
With gore from wounds I felt not? Did the blast
Beat on this body, frost-and-famine-numbed,
Till my hard flesh distinguished not itself
From the insensate mail, its fellow warrior?
And have I brought home with me Victory,
And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed Peace,
Her countenance twice lighted up with glory,
As if I had charmed a goddess down from Heaven?
But these will flee abhorrent from the throne
Of usurpation!
[Murmurs increase—and cries of Onward! Onward!
Have you then thrown off shame,
And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject,
Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophies
Valiantly wrested from a valiant foe,
Love's natural offerings to a rightful king,
Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor,
This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes
Of gold plucked from the images of gods
Upon a sacrilegious robber's back.
[Enter Lord Casimir.

Casimir.
Who is this factious insolent, that dares brand
The elected King, our chosen Emerick?
My father!

Raab Kiuprili.
Casimir! He, he a traitor!
Too soon indeed, Ragozzi! have I learnt it.

[Aside.
Casimir.
My father and my lord!

Raab Kiuprili.
I know thee not!

Leader.
Yet the remembrancing did sound right filial.

Raab Kiuprili.
A holy name and words of natural duty
Are blasted by a thankless traitor's utterance.

Casimir.
O hear me, Sire! not lightly have I sworn
Homage to Emerick. Illyria's sceptre
Demands a manly hand, a warrior's grasp.
The queen Zapolya's self-expected offspring
At least is doubtful: and of all our nobles,
The king, inheriting his brother's heart,
Hath honoured us the most. Your rank, my lord!
Already eminent, is—all it can be—
Confirmed: and me the king's grace hath appointed
Chief of his council and the lord high steward.

Raab Kiuprili.
(Bought by a bribe!) I know thee now still less.

Casimir.
So much of Raab Kiuprili's blood flows here,
That no power, save that holy name of father,
Could shield the man who so dishonoured me.

Raab Kiuprili.
The son of Raab Kiuprili a bought bondslave,
Guilt's pander, treason's mouth-piece, a gay parrot,
School'd to shrill forth his feeder's usurp'd titles.
And scream, Long live King Emerick!

Leaders.
Aye, King Emerick!
Stand back, my lord! Lead us, or let us pass.

Soldier.
Nay, let the general speak!

Soldiers.
Hear him! hear him!

Raab Kiuprili.
Hear me,
Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria,
Hear, and avenge me! Twice ten years have I
Stood in your presence, honoured by the king:
Beloved and trusted. Is there one among you
Accuses Raab Kiuprili of a bribe?
Or one false whisper in his sovereign's ear?
Who here dares charge me with an orphan's rights
Outfaced, or widow's plea left undefended?
And shall I now be branded by a traitor,
A bought, bribed wretch, who, being called my son,
Doth libel a chaste matron's name, and plant
Hensbane and aconite on a mother's grave?
The underling accomplice of a robber,
That from a widow and a widow's offspring
Would steal their heritage? To God a rebel,
And to the common father of his country
A recreant ingrate!

Casimir.
Sire! your words grow dangerous.
High-flown romantic fancies ill-beseem
Your age and wisdom. 'Tis a statesman's virtue,
To guard his country's safety by what means
It best may be protected—come what will
Of these monk's morals!

Raab Kiuprili
(aside).
Ha! the elder Brutus
Made his soul iron, though his sons repented.
They boasted not their baseness.
[Draws his sword.
Infamous changeling!
Recant this instant, and swear loyalty,
And strict obedience to thy sovereign's will;
Or, by the spirit of departed Andreas,
Thou diest—

[Chiefs, &c., rush to interpose; during the tumult enter Emerick, alarmed.
Emerick.
Call out the guard! Ragozzi! seize the assassin.—
Kiuprili? Ha!—
[Making signs to the guard to retire.
Pass on, friends! to the palace.

[Music recommences.—The Procession passes into the Palace.
Emerick.
What? Raab Kiuprili? What? a father's sword
Against his own son's breast?

Raab Kiuprili.
'Twould best excuse him,
Were he thy son, Prince Emerick. I abjure him.

Emerick.
This is my thanks, then, that I have commenced
A reign to which the free voice of the nobles
Hath called me, and the people, by regards
Of love and grace to Raab Kiuprili's house?

Raab Kiuprili.
What right hadst thou, Prince Emerick, to bestow them?

Emerick.
By what right dares Kiuprili question me?

Raab Kiuprili.
By a right common to all loyal subjects—
To me a duty! As the realm's co-regent,
Appointed by our sovereign's last free act,
Writ by himself.—

[Grasping the Patent.
Emerick.
Aye!—Writ in a delirium!

Raab Kiuprili.
I likewise ask, by whose authority
The access to the sovereign was refused me?

Emerick.
By whose authority dared the general leave
His camp and army, like a fugitive?

Raab Kiuprili.
A fugitive, who, with victory for his comrade,
Ran, open-eyed, upon the face of death!
A fugitive, with no other fear, than bodements
To be belated in a loyal purpose—
At the command, Prince! of my king and thine,
Hither I came; and now again require
Audience of Queen Zapolya; and (the States
Forthwith convened) that thou dost shew at large,
On what ground of defect thou'st dared annul
This thy King's last and solemn act—hast dared
Ascend the throne, of which the law had named,
And conscience should have made thee, a protector.

Emerick.
A sovereign's ear ill brooks a subject's questioning!
Yet for thy past well-doing—and because
'Tis hard to erase at once the fond belief
Long cherished, that Illyria had in thee
No dreaming priest's slave, but a Roman lover
Of her true weal and freedom—and for this, too,
That, hoping to call forth to the broad day-light
And fostering breeze of glory all deservings,
I still had placed thee foremost.

Raab Kiuprili.
Prince! I listen.

Emerick.
Unwillingly I tell thee, that Zapolya,
Maddened with grief, her erring hopes proved idle—

Casimir.
Sire! speak the whole truth! Say, her fraud detected!

Emerick.
According to the sworn attests in council
Of her physician—

Raab Kiuprili
(aside).
Yes! the Jew, Barzoni!

Emerick.
Under the imminent risk of death she lies,
Or irrecoverable loss of reason,
If known friend's face or voice renew the frenzy.

Casimir
(to Kiuprili).
Trust me, my lord! a woman's trick has duped you—
Us too—but most of all, the sainted Andreas.
Even for his own fair fame, his grace prays hourly
For her recovery, that (the States convened)
She may take counsel of her friends.

Emerick.
Right, Casimir!
Receive my pledge, lord general. It shall stand
In her own will to appear and voice her claims;
Or (which in truth I hold the wiser course)
With all the past passed by, as family quarrels,
Let the Queen Dowager, with unblenched honours,
Resume her state, our first Illyrian matron.

Raab Kiuprili.
Prince Emerick! you speak fairly, and your pledge too
Is such, as well would suit an honest meaning.

Casimir.
My lord! you scarce know half his grace's goodness.
The wealthy heiress, high-born fair Sarolta,
Bred in the convent of our noble ladies,
Her relative, the venerable abbess,
Hath, at his grace's urgence, wooed and won for me.

Emerick.
Long may the race, and long may that name flourish,
Which your heroic deeds, brave chief, have rendered
Dear and illustrious to all true Illyrians.

Raab Kiuprili.
The longest line that ever tracing herald
Or found or feigned, placed by a beggar's soul
Hath but a mushroom's date in the comparison:
And with the soul, the conscience is coeval,
Yea, the soul's essence.

Emerick.
Conscience, good my lord.
Is but the pulse of reason. Is it conscience,
That a free nation should be handed down,
Like the dull clods beneath our feet, by chance
And the blind law of lineage? That whether infant,
Or man matured, a wise man or an idiot,
Hero or natural coward, shall have guidance
Of a free people's destiny, should fall out
In the mere lottery of a reckless nature,
Where few the prizes and the blanks are countless?
Or haply that a nation's fate should hang
On the bald accident of a midwife's handling
The unclosed sutures of an infant's skull?

Casimir.
What better claim can sovereign wish or need
Than the free voice of men who love their country?
Those chiefly who have fought for't? Who by right,
Claim for their monarch one, who having obeyed,
So hath best learnt to govern; who, having suffered,
Can feel for each brave sufferer and reward him?
Whence sprang the name of Emperor? Was it not
By Nature's fiat? In the storm of triumph,
'Mid warriors' shouts, did her oracular voice
Make itself heard: Let the commanding spirit
Possess the station of command!

Raab Kiuprili.
Prince Emerick,
Your cause will prosper best in your own pleading.

Emerick
(aside to Casimir).
Ragozzi was thy school-mate—a bold spirit!
Bind him to us!—Thy father thaws apace!
[Then aloud.
Leave us awhile, my lord!—Your friend, Ragozzi,
Whom you have not yet seen since his return,
Commands the guard to-day.
[Casimir retires to the Guard-house; and after a time appears before it with Chef Ragozzi.
We are alone.
What further pledge or proof desires Kiuprili?
Then, with your assent—

Raab Kiuprili.
Mistake not for assent
The unquiet silence of a stern resolve
Throttling the impatient voice. I have heard thee, Prince!
And I have watched thee, too; but have small faith in
A plausible tale told with a flitting eye.
[Emerick turns as about to call for the Guard.
In the next moment I am in thy power,
In this thou art in mine. Stir but a step,
Or make one sign—I swear by this good sword,
Thou diest that instant.

Emerick.
Ha, ha!—Well, Sir!—Conclude your homily.

Raab Kiuprili.
A tale which, whether true or false, comes guarded
Against all means of proof, detects itself.
The Queen mew'd up—this too from anxious care
And love brought forth of a sudden, a twin birth
With thy discovery of her plot to rob thee
Of a rightful throne!—Mark how the scorpion, falsehood,
Coils round in its own perplexity, and fixes
Its sting in its own head!

Emerick.
Aye! to the mark!

Raab Kiuprili.
Had'st thou believed thine own tale, had'st thou fancied
Thyself the rightful successor of Andreas,
Would'st thou have pilfered from our school-boys' themes
These shallow sophisms of a popular choice?
What people? How convened? or, if convened,
Must not the magic power that charms together
Millions of men in council, needs have power
To win or wield them? Better, O far better
Shout forth thy titles to yon circling mountains,
And with a thousand-fold reverberation
Make the rocks flatter thee, and the volleying air,
Unbribed, shout back to thee, King Emerick!
By wholesome laws to embank the sovereign power,
To deepen by restraint, and by prevention
Of lawless will to amass and guide the flood
In its majestic channel, is man's task
And the true patriot's glory! In all else
Men safelier trust to Heaven, than to themselves
When least themselves in the mad whirl of crowds
Where folly is contagious, and too oft
Even wise men leave their better sense at home
To chide and wonder at them when returned.

Emerick
(aloud).
Is't thus thou scoff'st the people? most of all,
The soldiers, the defenders of the people?

Raab Kiuprili.
O most of all, most miserable nation,
For whom the imperial power, enormous bubble!
Is blown and kept aloft, or burst and shattered
By the bribed breath of a lewd soldiery!
Chiefly of such, as from the frontiers far,
(Which is the noblest station of true warriors)
In rank licentious idleness beleaguer
City and Court, a venomed thorn i' the side
Of virtuous kings, the tyrant's slave and tyrant,
Still ravening for fresh largess! But with such
What title claim'st thou, save thy birth? What merits
Which many a liegeman may not plead as well,
Brave though I grant thee? If a life outlaboured
Head, heart, and fortunate arm, in watch and war,
For the land's fame and weal; if large acquests.
Made honest by the aggression of the foe,
And whose best praise is, that they bring us safety;
If victory, doubly-wreathed, whose under-garland
Of laurel-leaves looks greener and more sparkling
Thro' the grey olive-branch; if these, Prince Emerick!
Give the true title to the throne, not thou—
No! (let Illyria, let the infidel enemy
Be judge and arbiter between us!) I,
I were the rightful sovereign!

Emerick.
I have faith
That thou both think'st and hop'st it. Fair Zapolya,
A provident lady—

Raab Kiuprili.
Wretch beneath all answer!

Emerick.
Offers at once the royal bed and throne!

Raab Kiuprili.
To be a kingdom's bulwark, a king's glory,
Yet loved by both, and trusted, and trust-worthy,
Is more than to be king; but see! thy rage
Fights with thy fear. I will relieve thee! Ho!

[To the Guard.
Emerick.
Not for thy sword, but to entrap thee, ruffian!
Thus long I have listened—Guard—ho! from the Palace.

[The Guard post from the Guard-house with Chef Ragozzi at their head, and then a number from the Palace— Chef Ragozzi demands Kiuprili's sword, and apprehends him.
Casimir.
O agony!
[To Emerick.
Sire, hear me!
[To Kiuprili, who turns from him.
Hear me, father!

Emerick.
Take in arrest that traitor and assassin!
Who pleads for his life, strikes at mine, his sovereign's.

Raab Kiuprili.
As the Co-regent of the Realm, I stand
Amenable to none save to the States
Met in due course of law. But ye are bond-slaves,
Yet witness ye that before God and man
I here impeach Lord Emerick of foul treason,
And on strong grounds attaint him with suspicion
Of murder—

Emerick.
Hence with the madman!

Raab Kiuprili.
Your Queen's murder,
The royal orphan's murder: and to the death
Defy him, as a tyrant and usurper.

[Hurried off by Ragozzi and the Guard.
Emerick.
Ere twice the sun hath risen, by my sceptre
This insolence shall be avenged.

Casimir.
O banish him!
This infamy will crush me. O for my sake,
Banish him, my liege lord!

Emerick.
What? to the army?
Be calm, young friend! Nought shall be done in anger.
The child o'erpowers the man. In this emergence
I must take counsel for us both. Retire.

[Exit Casimir.
Emerick
(alone, looks at a Calendar).
The changeful planet, now in her decay,
Dips down at midnight, to be seen no more.
With her shall sink the enemies of Emerick,
Cursed by the last look of the waning moon:
And my bright destiny, with sharpened horns,
Shall greet me fearless in the new-born crescent.

[Exit.
Scene changes to the back of the Palace—a Wooded Park, and Mountains. Enter Zapolya, with an infant in arms.
Zapolya.
Hush, dear one! hush! My trembling arm disturbs thee!
Thou, the protector of the helpless! Thou,
The widow's husband and the orphan's father,
Direct my steps! Ah whither? O send down
Thy angel to a houseless babe and mother,
Driven forth into the cruel wilderness!
Hush, sweet one! Thou art no Hagar's offspring: thou art
The rightful heir of an anointed king!
What sounds are those? It is the vesper chaunt
Of labouring men returning to their home!
Their queen has no home! Hear me, heavenly Father!
And let this darkness—
Be as the shadow of thy outspread wings
To hide and shield us! Start'st thou in thy slumbers?
Thou canst not dream of savage Emerick. Hush!
Betray not thy poor mother! For if they seize thee
I shall grow mad indeed, and they'll believe
Thy wicked uncle's lie. Ha! what? A soldier?

[Enter Chef Ragozzi.
Chef Ragozzi.
Sure Heaven befriends us. Well! he hath escaped!
O rare tune of a tyrant's promises
That can enchant the serpent treachery
From forth its lurking hole in the heart. ‘Ragozzi!
O brave Ragozzi! Count! Commander! What not?’
And all this too for nothing! a poor nothing!
Merely to play the underling in the murder
Of my best friend Kiuprili! His own son—monstrous!
Tyrant! I owe thee thanks, and in good hour
Will I repay thee, for that thou thought'st me too
A serviceable villain. Could I now
But gain some sure intelligence of the queen:
Heaven bless and guard her!

Zapolya
(coming forward).
Art thou not Ragozzi?

Chef Ragozzi.
The Queen! Now then the miracle is full!
I see heaven's wisdom is an over-match
For the devil's cunning. This way, madam, haste!

Zapolya.
Stay! Oh, no! Forgive me if I wrong thee!
This is thy sovereign's child: Oh, pity us,
And be not treacherous!

[Kneeling.
Chef Ragozzi
(raising her).
Madam! For mercy's sake!

Zapolya.
But tyrants have a hundred eyes and arms!

Chef Ragozzi.
Take courage, madam! 'Twere too horrible,
(I can not do't) to swear I'm not a monster!—
Scarce had I barr'd the door on Raab Kiuprili—

Zapolya.
Kiuprili! How?

Chef Ragozzi.
There is not time to tell it,—
The tyrant called me to him, praised my zeal—
(And be assured I overtopt his cunning
And seemed right zealous.) But time wastes: In fine,
Bids me dispatch my trustiest friends, as couriers
With letters to the army. The thought at once
Flashed on me. I disguised my prisoner—

Zapolya.
What, Raab Kiuprili?

Chef Ragozzi.
Yes! my noble general!
I sent him off, with Emerick's own pacquet,
Haste, and post haste—Prepared to follow him—

Zapolya.
Ah, how? Is it joy or fear? My limbs seem sinking!—

Chef Ragozzi
(supporting her).
Heaven still befriends us. I have left my charger,
A gentle beast and fleet, and my boy's mule,
One that can shoot a precipice like a bird,
Just where the wood begins to climb the mountains.
The course we'll thread will mock the tyrant's guesses,
Or scare the followers. Ere we reach the main road
The Lord Kiuprili will have sent a troop
To escort me. Oh, thrice happy when he finds
The treasure which I convoy!

Zapolya.
One brief moment,
That praying for strength I may have strength. This babe,
Heaven's eye is on it, and its innocence
Is, as a prophet's prayer, strong and prevailing!
Through thee, dear babe, the inspiring thought possessed me,
When the loud clamor rose, and all the palace
Emptied itself—(They sought my life, Ragozzi!)
Like a swift shadow gliding, I made way
To the deserted chamber of my lord.—
[Then to the infant.
And thou didst kiss thy father's lifeless lips,
And in thy helpless hand, sweet slumberer!
Still clasp'st the signet of thy royalty.
As I removed the seal, the heavy arm
Dropt from the couch aslant, and the stiff finger
Seemed pointing at my feet. Provident Heaven!
Lo, I was standing on the secret door,
Which, through a long descent where all sound perishes,
Led out beyond the palace. Well I knew it—
But Andreas framed it not! He was no tyrant!

Chef Ragozzi.
Haste, madam! let me take this precious burden!

[He kneels as he takes the child.
Zapolya.
Take him! And if we be pursued, I charge thee,
Flee thou and leave me! Flee and save thy king!
[Then as going off, she looks back on the palace.
Thou tyrant's den, be called no more a palace!
The orphan's angel at the throne of heaven
Stands up against thee, and there hover o'er thee
A Queen's, a Mother's, and a Widow's curse.
Henceforth a dragon's haunt, fear and suspicion
Stand sentry at thy portals! Faith and honour,
Driven from the throne, shall leave the attainted nation:
And, for the iniquity that houses in thee,
False glory, thirst of blood, and lust of rapine,
(Fateful conjunction of malignant planets)
Shall shoot their blastments on the land. The fathers
Henceforth shall have no joy in their young men,
And when they cry: Lo! a male child is born!
The mother shall make answer with a groan.
For bloody usurpation, like a vulture,
Shall clog its beak within Illyria's heart.
Remorseless slaves of a remorseless tyrant,
They shall be mocked with sounds of liberty,
And liberty shall be proclaimed alone
To thee, O Fire! O Pestilence! O Sword!
Till Vengeance hath her fill.—And thou, snatched hence,
Poor friendless fugitive! with mother's wailing,
Offspring of Royal Andreas, shalt return,
With trump and timbrel-clang, and popular shout,
In triumph to the palace of thy fathers!

[Exeunt.