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11

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Scene Ismena's Apartment in Elmerick's House.
Enter Ismena alone.
When we are bless'd even to our utmost wish,
Is it the nature of the restless mind
To work its own disquiet, and extract
Pain from delight? O Elmerick! my life,
My lord, my husband! when I count with transport
Thy amiable virtues, when I think
How fair a treasure I possess in thee,
I'm lost in scenes of soft, bewild'ring bliss;
Yet fear, I know not why, some fatal change
May rob me of my happiness.

Enter Bathori.
Bath.
So melancholy, and alone, my daughter!

Ism.
My Lord is with some Nobles of the States.

Bath.
You shou'd remember 'tis the greatest honour
To be so oft consulted, so rever'd
By men who stand the foremost in their country.

Ism.
Remember too, how dear a sacrifice
My Elmerick made, when he forsook retreat,
And chang'd our solid peace for courts and senates.
We knew no want, no avarice, no ambition:
Intruding business and corroding cares,
Though hid beneath the pomp of wealth and power,

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Must take from our felicity; who find,
Each in the other, what the world besides
Is much too poor to give.

Bath.
You must not weigh
Your single quiet with the good of millions.
Your noble husband's rank and high abilities
Have destin'd him the servant of his country:
For Elmerick has every gift of Heaven
That renders publick care a debt to virtue,
And soft retirement poor, unmanly baseness.

Ism.
Still you forget the graces that have made
Your only child, your lov'd Ismena, happy.

Bath.
Thou dearest comfort of thy father's age!
My heart is pleased that thou art mindful of them.
Your well placed love, this tender gratitude,
Are proofs you merit, what you justly boast of,
To have the hand and heart, to be the wife
Of Elmerick—I cannot praise thee higher.

Ism.
The highest praise my vainest wish aspires to,
Is that my ardent love bears some proportion
To its exalted object.

Bath.
Both are happy;
And Heaven preserve you so!—I judge that now
The States may be assembling in the Palace,
As summon'd by the King. He has not met them
Since they elected Elmerick their Palatine,
Pursuant to the grant he gave his people.
He means this morning to appoint a Regent,
Then to set forth for Palestine.

Ism.
What dangers
He generously meets!

Bath.
For me, I own,

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I ne'er approv'd this rash, romantick war,
Begot by hot-brained bigots, and fomented
By the intrigues of proud, designing priests.
All ages have their madness, this is ours.
The King is wise, benevolent and brave,
But covetous of Glory to excess;
And if he steer amiss, 'tis in a torrent
That bears down all before it.

Ism.
His fair Queen,
No doubt, will greatly mourn so long an absence.

Bath.
Perhaps she may.—Yet—I cou'd wish, Ismena,
(I speak in confidence and with concern)
The Queen were wise, and gentle like thy self.

Ism.
My place and near attendance on her person
Have given me means to know her, and, 'tis sure,
To Nature none owes more.

Bath.
Yes, I confess,
Matilda wants not charms, sharp female wit,
And dignity of form; but her warm passions,
And the wild eagerness with which she follows
Each gust of inclination, may, I fear,
Prove dangerous to herself, the King and Realm.

Ism.
Detraction cannot say she e'er transgrest
The strictest bounds of virtue.

Bath.
Suppose her chaste, 'tis pride, not virtue in her.
Can she be virtuous, who beheld, unmoved,
The treacherous arts of her licentious brother
To tempt your virgin honour, while he stay'd
To grace his sister's nuptials, and stained Buda
With his Moravian riot?

Ism.
I reveal'd
Her thoughtless conduct, which indeed amazed me,

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Only to you, my Father.—Let it die:
Be all her errors mended and forgot,
Her worth improv'd and honour'd.

Bath.
Nay, I wish it:
Wou'd I cou'd add, with truth, I hop'd it too!—
Thou dearest pleasure of my ebbing life,
With thee conversing, I forgot the hours
Were passing on—I go: The States demand me.

[Exeunt separately.

SCENE II.

The Assembly of the States.
1st L.
That the King means this day to join the army
Is then no longer doubted?

Elm.
No, my Lord.

1st Ld.
May health and safety wait upon his person!

2d Ld.
May fortune never cross his generous labours,
But victory and triumph bring him home!

Elm.
So please just Heaven! 'Tis the devoutest wish
Of every honest heart in Hungary.

To them enter King, Bathori, Attendants. King taking a Seat of State.
K.
You Nobles, and you Deputies of Hungary,
And you confederate States that own our scepter,
Know, I this day depart for Palestine:
Where, like a mourning matron, by her sons
Neglected or forgot in her distress,
Lyes sacred Sion, captived and profaned.
But ere I name the Regent of my Kingdoms,
Which you shall witness, and, I trust, applaud;
I greet, with heart-felt joy, your wise election
Of Elmerick, first Palatine of Hungary:
The Conservator of your laws and rights,

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Guardian of Liberty, and Judge of Power.
His manly virtues answer my big thought,
And give full vigour to the awful title:
Wisdom consummate in the fire of youth,
The hardiest valour join'd with soft compassion,
And justice never to be brib'd or awed—

Elm.
My life's poor labours never can deserve
My Country's favour, or my Sov'reign's praise.
And O perpetual source of bounteous virtue,
Who but a King, whose wide expanding heart
Feels a whole people's bliss, humanely great,
Wisely ambitious, e'er, benignant, plan'd,
In his high soaring thought, so large a gift;
Gave to a subject right to judge his acts,
And say to sov'reign power—Here shalt Thou stay?

K.
What we have thought of Regal Government,
Its bounds and end, I hope our reign has witness'd.
To make a People wretched, to entail
The curse of bondage on their drooping race,
Can add no joy to sense, can sooth no passion
That hath its seat in nature—May reproach
Sound through the loathing world his guilty name
Who dares attempt it.—What can be his motive,
Whom long descent, or a free People's love,
Has raised an earthly God, so to degrade
Himself, and take the office of a Fiend!—
Too foul mistake!—Let me aspire to glory
By glorious means! To have my reign illustrious,
The theme of loud-tongued fame and ecchoing Nations,
May it give birth to an eternal Æra,
And be the happy date when Publick Liberty
Receiv'd its last perfection!


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Bath.
Matchless King!
How shall thy subjects pay this God-like gift!

K.
Defend it as your lives—Said I your lives?
That's poor, and far unworthy its importance;
Defend it as you wou'd your fame and virtue.
And if, hereafter, some ill-judging Monarch
Invade your rights with bold oppressive power;
Under the conduct of your Palatine,
Repel by Legal Force the known injustice,
And place the sacred crown of holy Stephen,
Thus forfeited and impiously prophaned,
On some more worthy head. (Pauses)
—All gracious Heaven!

Affection melts their hearts—There's not an eye
But swells with tears in all this great Assembly.
The active warmth of youth, the cool experience
Of venerable age, the statesman's wisdom,
And hardy soldier's courage, overcome
By obligation, melt to infant softness,
And speechless tears.

Bath.
O gracious Monarch!

1st Ld.
Father!

Elm.
Glory, and Guardian Angel of our country!

K.
Why, let the envious call this flattery,
Unmanly art! to which unhappy slaves
Are forced to form their lips—You need it not—
My last, just care has made it useless to you.

Elm.
When gratitude o'erflows the swelling heart,
And breaths in free and uncorrupted praise
For benefits received; propitious Heaven
Takes such acknowledgment as fragrant incense,
And doubles all its blessings.


17

K.
'Tis enough—
The powerful theme had sway'd my glowing thought
From the important business of this day,
Which claims your high attention—I shall now
Repose the Sov'reign Power in proper hands,
During the war I wage in Palestine.

Elm.
May Heaven direct your choice!
For what is law more than the breathless form
Of some fall'n Hero, spiritless and cold,
To be despis'd and trampled on at pleasure
By every bold offender; unless steady
And vig'rous execution give it life.

K.
'Tis justly urged, my Lord, and you yourself
Shall in my absence guard it from contempt
By vigorous execution. Take the sword,
And bear it not in vain.—Shou'd any dare,
Presuming on their birth or place for safety,
Disturb my subjects peace with bold injustice;
Let no consideration hold your hand,
As you shall answer it to me and Heaven:
Think well how I would act, or ought to act,
Were I in person here, and do it for me.

Elm.
An awful trust, my Liege, and strongly urged:
And while I rule your realm, shou'd some bold crime
Demand the righteous rigour you enjoin;
May Heaven deal with me, as I shall discharge
With faithfulness and courage, or neglect,
Through treachery or fear, the painful duty.

K.
Unbless'd a King, whose self-reproaching heart
Ne'er, calm, reposes on a subject's virtue!
Thank Heaven, I am not such: I taste the safe,
The generous joys of confidence well placed.

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With you, brave Elmerick, the States have lodg'd
Their noblest right, and I dare trust my crown.
But there is yet a dearer, tenderer charge,
And let me recommend, ere I dismiss you,
[Turning to the States.
More than my crown, my Queen to your affections.
I go, once more, to take my last adieu,
Then lead my hallow'd banners to the East.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Queen and Zenomira.
Q.
To stoop beneath a constant weight of cares
To purchase ease for others!—Poor and senseless!
Injurious to himself, and base to me!

Zen.
The King is held by all most wise and just.

Q.
For me, I cannot think so—Then this start
To Palestine, this warlike pilgrimage,
This holy madness will bear no excuse.
Need he regard whether the line of Baldwin,
Or Saladin, be victors in a clime
So far remote, who might enjoy repose
And pleasure here? I tell thee, Zenomira,
I'm not, by far, so happy as Ismena.
For Elmerick, the theme of every tongue,
Can love: And to our sex, love crowns all merit.

Zen.
Madam, the King—

Q.
He comes to take his leave. Ungrateful man!
He merits not my heart, who vainly dares
To rate his pride above it.

[Exit Zenomira.

19

Enter King.
K.
The urgent business of this day, Matilda,
How has it robb'd me of thy dear society!

Q.
You will have constant business, Sir—The camp
Detains you from me now, and now the senate;
And when your court receives you, restless still,
And fired with some bright phantom of ambition,
You mix with hoary heads, and plan new glories.

K.
If, faithful to the trust imposed by Heaven,
I oft have born with grief thy painful absence;
O think me not less thine, my lov'd Matilda,
But pity my sad duty.

Q.
Said you duty?—
Your idol Honour rather—that you worship—
That sends your banners to the distant East,
To fruitless wars, and visionary triumphs.

K.
Honour's a duty, Madam, and the noblest;
And ardent I pursue the powerful impulse.
There are (with shame I speak it) those who loiter
In this religious warfare. The Emperor
Cannot unite his Germans; France delays:
Grim death has forced the slaught'ring battle-axe
From Cœur de Lion's strong unerring hand;
And John of England, his unthrifty brother,
Repell'd abroad, prepares his luckless sword
To wound the liberties, rescind the laws,
And sheath it in the bowels of his kingdom.
Our troops are ready: Sion's mournful cries
Call loud for instant succour—and I go.

Q.
Then I must learn to bear my King's neglect,
And endless solitude.


20

K.
No, my Matilda;
The time will come when wars rough labours ended
Shall give me up devoted to thy beauties,
And all our days to come shall blended flow
In one pure stream of calm, unruffled love.

Q.
Our days to come
Are dark uncertainties; and doating age,
Shou'd we attain it, painful or insipid.

K.
Do not distract me, call back these reproaches.
Urge not, my Queen, thy soft'ning power too far,
But think thy husband's triumphs will be thine.—
Mean-time, to soften my unwilling absence
Thy brother comes, the partner of thy heart:
Each day my Court expects him from Moravia.
His sprightly temper, his engaging converse,
Will steal all sorrow from thee.

Q.
In my brother
I still have found a friend; and friendship now
Is all the good my widow'd heart must hope for.—
But in your absence, Sir, the Sovereign Power
To whom intrust you? Whom must I obey?

K.
Lord Elmerick, as you know was my fix'd purpose,
I have appointed Regent of my Kingdoms.

Q.
The world talks loud of Elmerick's fair merits,
And I, unused to think on such grave subjects,
Congratulate your choice.—

K.
You're just; and kind
To crown with your auspicious praise the man
Whom I so love and honour.—May I hope.
That all those lips have dropt less gentle to me,

21

Was but the tender fears of love alarm'd?
Oh say but this! and I will think it kinder
Than all th'endearments of affected fondness.

Q.
Think what will please you best, and that I said it,—
And may the shining Fame you seek so far
Pay your long labours!

K.
One embrace, Matilda!
May Heaven on all thy days shed sweetest comfort,
And peace with angel wings o'ershade thy slumbers!
Eager for Fame, and zealous to chastize
The foes of Heav'n, I thought I could resist
This heart-invading softness—Fond mistake!
Call'd to begin the task by leaving thee,
I find my fancy'd heroism vain,
And all the feeble tender man returns.—
I must not give it way.—Once more, farewel.

[Exeunt separately.
The End of the First Act.