University of Virginia Library


39

Act Second.

SCENE FIRST

—A CHURCH.
The platform of the high altar raised a step above the floor of the church, and of sufficient breadth for any body to walk upon it, without coming to the edge of the step, which is covered with crimson cloth. A large altar table, covered with crimson velvet, fringed with gold. At the back of the altar, over the table, a luminous Cross; under which hangs a magnificent Sword, suspended from a rich belt. On each side of the altar, upon the raised platform, footstools covered like the altar table. The Princess Agmunda, kneeling upon the footstool on the south side, or left hand, of the altar.
PRINCESS
(alone).
If for its sins, thou visitest this land,
Destroy it not in wrath! O! let the wings
Of mercy shield us from thy dread displeasure;
If we must suffer, be it from thy hand.
Give us not up to our blood-thirsty foes;
But grant us strength, and courage, to withstand them:
Defeat their stratagems, confound their counsels;
And aid thy servant who now fights our cause.


40

SCENE SECOND.

THE PRINCESS; ELLA.
PRINCESS.
(Descending from the altar, and coming forward as soon as Ella enters).
Is the fight over; Is our fleet victorious?
Why this long interval, without intelligence?

ELLA.
The anxious multitude have so beset
The watch-tower, that your messengers can scarce
Pass through the throng.

PRINCESS.
But what account bring'st thou?

ELLA.
I must conceal the news (aside).
Corvinus wishes—


PRINCESS.
I will not hear.—Have I not oft conjured thee,
For my mind's peace, to speak that name no more?
Duty commands, that I forget our loves:
All thoughts of him, whenever they obtrude,
Must unapprov'd, undwelt on, be dismiss'd.
O ceaseless anguish! Ere I chase one thought,
Another, and another, torturing comes,
Mocking my best resolves.


41

ELLA.
Corvinus begs,
That you would see him now.

PRINCESS.
To bring this message
Was wrong; and, although check'd, again to speak it,
Argues unfriendliness, tempting to crime.
Ella! thou knew'st I dar'd not see Corvinus.

ELLA.
Forgive me. Yet his wretchedness so struck me,
That, ere my judgment weigh'd, my heart was won
To pity his distress, and tell his suit.

PRINCESS.
Rash, thoughtless, that thou art! to be thus won
To tempt my soul. If thou could'st not resist
His sorrows, how shall I be proof against them?
Injur'd Corvinus! I destroy thy peace;
I dare not see thee more; for should'st thou sue,
And plead, despair might urge my tortur'd soul
To violate the unjust, the guilty Oath,
Which I, in bitterness of heart, repent.
Ye soft ideas! Ye illusive hopes
Of love and bliss, begone! Assail me not.
Whatever joys fate had reserv'd for me,
Thriftless I mortgag'd, ere possession came:
The ruinous payment beggars future hours.

42

Oh, to forget! for thoughts of happier prospects
Embitter misery.

ELLA.
Yet see Corvinus;
Somewhat of moment has he to impart,
Which it imports you instantly to learn.

PRINCESS.
Forbear! 'Tis virtue bids me shun the conflict.
Tell him, I cannot see him; I'm at the altar,
Imploring Heaven's protection for my Country.
I am its victim.—Say not that to him.
(Exit Ella.)
A voluntary wretch, I made myself,
Alas! ere my heart knew how much it lov'd.
Why did I swear for ever to renounce him?
Aid me, kind heaven! against this rooted passion;
Assist me to forget this dear Corvinus!

SCENE THIRD.

THE PRINCESS, CORVINUS.
CORVINUS
(entering his Casque in his hand).
Heaven, hear her not! but now two faithful hearts Reward.


43

PRINCESS
(turning from Corvinus).
Why is this trying moment come?

CORVINUS
(kneeling).
Agmunda! bless the lover who adores you,
And pitying end his woes! When last we parted—

PRINCESS.
We parted then for ever. Rise, my Lord!
(He rises.)
It was not well to invade this holy place,
When my sad heart was communing with Heaven.
The affianc'd bride of brave Matthias grieves,
That you should dare infringe the sacred mound
Of female delicacy, wounding her soul
By searching out those secret, inmost sentiments,
Which duty, time, and absence, will o'ercome.
On earth we meet no more. Regard this moment,
As if, from awful summons, thou stood near
The death-bed of a soon departing friend:
Let my Request, I solemnly adjure thee,
As if it were that dying friend's Request,
Be sacred held. My Brother is thy King;
Take no advantage of the People's love,
Remain his Subject. Then, to her last of life,
With sisterly affection, will Agmunda
Remember thee. Farewell—resign—forget me—
Honour and Fame demand the sacrifice.

(Goes towards the altar, Corvinus following her, she stops, and again comes forward.

44

CORVINUS.
To call thee mine, is the first honour which
My soul desires. Alas! I once had hopes
That the sweet dreams of childhood were not false.

PRINCESS.
Ah! flattering dreams! they fled with infancy.
Inexorable fate has seal'd our doom;
Nor leaves one hope of happier days to cheer us.
But virtue still is left us midst our woes;
Then let us summon courage to sustain them,
As virtue bids.

CORVINUS.
Heaven first, of each perfection,
Must thee deprive, ere I with courage can.

PRINCESS.
Thy duties all command it. Think, Corvinus!
Reflect on all the reasons, duties, claims,
Thy Father wisely urg'd when he forbad thee
Ever to hope my hand. Chaste honour, conscience,
Filial obedience, a patriot's duty,
And sacred friendship's debt of gratitude,
Have plac'd their adamantine bars against
Thy love. Respect my peace, forbear thy suit.

CORVINUS.
Thy heart can plead for every claim but mine.
My love is sacrific'd to raise thy glory.
Be songs of triumph thine—


45

PRINCESS.
Unjust Corvinus!
Accuse me not of such vain-glorious pride.
My rank demands the sacrifice I make,
The subject's fealty claims the Prince's love.
To the State's interest I am now devote;
To insure its happiness my own is yielded.
A Nation's welfare, and my Brother's safety,
Bade me forego the choice my heart had made:
'Twas reason's dictate, and made honour's law,
By the strong Oath exacted by thy Father:
To spotless honour sacred be that Oath.
Let thy firm soul resist its present feelings;
Reproach me not—Alas! I know thy woes;
I—I inflict them—but I more than share them.

CORVINUS.
My anguish canst thou feel, and yet persist?
Let thy relenting pity end my torments.

PRINCESS.
Seek not to melt my heart to vain repentance;
The motives which impell'd forbid retreat.

CORVINUS.
Obdurate Princess! Thou hast never lov'd.

PRINCESS.
Leave me! To see thee thus distress'd, Corvinus!
Adds to the conflict of my tortur'd soul:

46

Spare! spare! my grief, I agonize at thine.
All dearer ties forget;—think me thy sister;
And urge my duties with a Brother's sternness.

CORVINUS.
Oh! has thy heart no pity for my sufferings?
Forgive the boldness of despair! Thou must
Be mine.

(He seizes her hand wildly; and draws her further from the altar.)
PRINCESS.
Add not thy phrensy to my woes:
I pity, I esteem, I—Oh release me!
(Endeavours to withdraw her hand.)
My hand cannot be thine. My Oath forbids it.

CORVINUS.
Wilt thou not hazard something to redeem me?

PRINCESS.
All! All! but truth and honour: these I dare not.
Strive not to make me hateful to myself—
Oh! what can I, to mitigate thy grief?

CORVINUS.
Let pity plead; be generous, be just:
Recall my doom, and save thyself, sweet excellence!
From our curs'd foe, from treacherous, savage Mahomet,
Who now insulting claims thee for his bride.


47

PRINCESS.
Detested thought!

CORVINUS.
Prevent the hell I must
Endure to see thee in base Mahomet's arms.
Think what the rage of madness and despair,
Might make me do against us both.

PRINCESS.
No more:
I never will consent to such a sacrifice.
Oh! dire dishonour! wed a Turk! a murderer!
An Infidel! who Christian rites abhors!
When was this fatal proposition made?

CORVINUS.
Even now. Ambassadors attend the Council,
Demanding tribute, and thy hand in marriage,
For price of peace with their inhuman master:
And they will take thee hence this very day,
Unless thou give me sacred right to claim thee.
The coward Council all desert thy cause:
Except myself, Campestran, and Zilugo,
They are unanimous, sway'd by thy Uncle,
Basely to yield thee to this savage Prince.

PRINCESS.
The people will not: I'll appeal to them;
Invoke their justice, and implore their pity.
Let rank, and proud prerogative, desert me;

48

My Uncle scorn, defame, oppress, insult me;
Still fearless will I urge my freeborn right,
And whilst with conscious virtue glows my breast,
As suff'ring now in their, and honour's, cause,
What more I fear'd, Heaven knows, than death itself,
I will dare hope that worthy, generous hearts
Will not be steel'd when helpless woman pleads.
Though human nature hastily may err,
And with rash judgment to oppression lean,
Mercy and Justice for a while be hush'd;
Their heavenly voice will not be silenc'd long,
But like the glorious Sun will burst the cloud,
Dispel the storm, and with more radiance shine.
A people truly brave are kind and just,
They will protect me till thy father comes.

CORVINUS.
Thy Uncle's emissaries sap their fealty:
Easily led, they to the palace fly
In crowds, and think this marriage their sole hope.

PRINCESS.
Has Heaven withdrawn its attributes from man?
Mercy and Justice, are they fled from earth?
Inhuman people! To devote me thus,
To such a wretch! A more than Moloch Sacrifice!
Let bold rebellion rear its fiend-like arm,
Belie the sacred oath of its allegiance,
And immolate that blood it swore to guard.

49

My life their swords may take; but to this marriage
Never will I consent; nor be the victim
Of a peace, inglorious and unsafe;
A peace that would dethrone my infant Brother,
And for his kingdom forge eternal chains;
Which crafty Mahomet, as my right, would claim.
No! with the dauntless spirit of my race,
With firmness will I meet the coming storm.
'Tis but to die;—and for his Prince's welfare,
Bravely each soldier death defies; shall I,
With a dear Brother's cause conjoin'd, dare less
Than the poor peasant, for my anointed King?
Leave me alone, to meet my dubious fate,
And in thy turn, abandon me, Cornivus!
From coward nobles, an ungrateful people,
From an insidious Uncle, take example.

CORVINUS.
Honour and love forbid me to obey thee.
Campestran sanctifies, by his consent,
The only means that can from slavery save us.
When duty pleads my cause can love be silent?
Is there no gentle voice that moves thy heart,
To pity, and reward, my tried affection?

PRINCESS.
My hand to thee would be a fatal gift.
My Uncle seeks thine, and thy Father's ruin.
He envies your high fame, and dreads your power:
Were we united, some perfidious act,

50

(In which the ill-tutor'd King might blindly join,)
Would for the victim of his hatred mark thee;
And thou might'st fall; or else, to guard thy life,
Thy sword must be unsheath'd against thy Sovereign;
Perhaps the crown thou from his brow might'st tear—

CORVINUS.
Canst thou suspect my faith? All that I ought
To promise, here I swear. Thy Brother's Throne,
His sacred Person, and his Rights inviolate,
My sword and life shall guard. Myself I must
Protect; but if I ever pass the bounds
Of self-defence against him, then may'st thou,
May Heaven desert me; may its vengeance strike me,
And by that hand which two-fold power would give it,
(Draws a dagger from his bosom.)
By thine—Take this, my honest pledge of faith;
If I invade thy Brother's Rights, or wink
When aught invades them, plunge it in my heart.
(He offers the dagger; the Princess turns aside and retires a step, he still offers the dagger.)
O trust my zeal, my honour, and my loyalty!
Reward my faithful love, or be this night
The Tyrant's Bride.

PRINCESS
(walking from Corvinus.)
What ought I to resolve?
I shrink with terrour from a fate so cruel;
What to avoid, or what to choose, I know not.

51

(Returning to Corvinus.)
I know thy love, and I will trust thy honour.
Corvinus! I accept this horrid pledge.
(Takes the dagger.)
If thou betray thy King, know, in my right,
Thou ne'er shalt wear his crown. Great Albert's Daughter
Will use this dagger, as her Father ought,
Against herself, the Accomplice of thy crime,
If she should fail to guard his infant Son,
For giving Thee the power to shake his Throne.

(She puts the dagger into her bosom.)
CORVINUS.
I wish no empire but Agmunda's heart.
My love! my bride! sweet source of ev'ry joy!
My soul exults that thou, at last, art mine.
Devoted to thy cause, my zeal and loyalty
Shall show the rapturous gratitude I feel.
This instant must we plight our mutual faith.
(Corvinus opens the door on the North side of the altar, speaking to Campestran, who comes forward.)
Campestran waits to join our hands. Good father!


52

SCENE FOURTH.

THE PRINCESS, CORVINUS, CAMPESTRAN.
PRINCESS.
Campestran! holy man! do thou direct me.

CAMPESTRAN.
May heaven direct us for our good; and guide
Our erring minds to what is best. Your hands
I will consent to join. Thy unjust Oath,
And thy pledg'd faith, to Servia's brave Prince,
I own are obstacles against these nuptials.
But I so much abhor a human sacrifice,
And such, thou must be, to the faithless Mahomet,
That I dare urge thy marriage with Corvinus;
Rome's Pontiff will absolve thy breach of Oath;
Rash was the vow; unjust was its exaction.
Huniades has err'd through over zeal,
Which should have met rejection, not compliance.
(The Princess weeps much agitated.)
This deep distress is thy own act and deed.
The Council's sitting cannot be prolong'd;
Your Uncle loudly calls for its decision,
Which, well he knows, will be to yield you up.
To supererrogate has been thy fault,
This Oath no duty could require; thou, having
Thy free-will fetter'd, hast but choice of evil.

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Choose;—wed this Turk; your life, your faith, endanger;
Or break your oath, and be this Hero's Bride.
(Campestran takes her hand, and gives it to Corvinus.)
Corvinus! she is yours. Lead to the altar.

PRINCESS.
(Retreating from Corvinus and withdrawing her hand.)
Lead to some altar where light never gleams;
Befitting oaths that sinfully are sworn.
This is no altar for our vows. Here Heaven,
With all its hosts of Angels, Saints, and Martyrs,
Witness'd my promise, “never to be thine.”
(Pointing to the altar.)
Should I approach yon awful shrine, that sword,
Some Angel's vengeful arm would raise to strike me,
For breaking thus my Oath to thy stern Father.

CAMPESTRAN,
(Going to the altar, takes down the magnificent Sword which hangs at the front of the altar, under the luminous cross.)
This Sword I had reserv'd for great Huniades;
Rome's holy Pontiff sent it forth to arm
Our Chief, in the Crusade, against curs'd Mahomet.
Now, champion of our cause, I hail Corvinus.

CORVINUS
(taking the sword).
The sacred pledge with reverence I receive,
And I will wield it with no common zeal;

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Oh, may supernal power my arm invigorate,
And be our cause invincible, as holy!

CAMPESTRAN
(to the Princess).
Let us this altar quit, since it excites
Thy fears. My chapel, through the dormitory,
Is more retir'd. We might be here surpriz'd.
Speed to reward this hero with thy hand;
And from a lawless tyrant save thyself.
Hither return; nor sanctuary quit
Except with us. Here let the Council find thee.

PRINCESS.
Must I be left to meet my Uncle's rage?

CAMPESTRAN.
This altar, from his violence, protects thee;
Here then remain; and, when the dastard nobles
To yield thee come, declare thou art espous'd:
Acknowledge, if occasion call, to whom
Thy hand is given. War's various toils demand
Elsewhere our presence. Corvinus and myself
Must to the troops declare his happy fortune.
The soldiers love, they idolize Corvinus:
Their joy the echoing people soon will catch,
And make their own; they will applaud thy choice.

PRINCESS.
I dread the event; the people are against me.


55

CORVINUS.
Dismiss thy fears, the people still adore thee,
E'en whilst their terrour to desert thee leads them:
All will be well, I shall return triumphant
To guard my Princess, and my charming Bride.

(Campestran goes through the altar door by which he entered; Corvinus follows him leading the Princess.)
End of the Second Act.