 | Barbarossa |  |
53
ACT IV.
Enter Irene and Aladin.Irene.
But didst thou tell him, Aladin, my Fears
Brook no Delay?
Aladin.
I did.
Irene.
Why comes he not!
Oh, what a dreadful Dream!—'Twas surely more
Than troubled Fancy: Never was my Soul
Shook with such hideous Phantoms!—Still he lingers!
Return, return: and tell him that his Daughter
Dies, till she warn him of his threatning Ruin!
Aladin.
Behold, he comes.
[Exit Aladin.
Enter Barbarossa.
Barbarossa.
Thou bane of all my Joys!
Some gloomy Planet surely rul'd thy Birth!
Ev'n now thy ill-tim'd Fear suspends the Banquet,
And damps the festal Hour.
Irene.
Forgive my Fear!
Barbarossa.
What Fear, what Phantom hath possess'd thy Brain?
Irene.
Oh guard thee from the Terrors of this Night.
For Terror lurks unseen.
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What Terror? speak.
Wou'dst thou unman me into female Weakness?—
Say, what thou dread'st, and why? I have a Soul
To meet the blackest Dangers undismay'd.
Irene.
Let not my Father check with stern Rebuke
The warning Voice of Nature. For ev'n now,
Retir'd to Rest, soon as I clos'd mine Eyes,
A horrid Vision rose—Methought I saw
Young Selim rising from the silent Tomb:
Mangled and Bloody was his Coarse: his Hair
Clotted with Gore; his glaring Eyes on Fire!
Dreadful he shook a Dagger in his Hand.
By some mysterious Pow'r he rose in Air.
When lo,—at his Command, this yawning Roof
Was cleft in Twain, and gave the Phantom Entrance!
Swift he descended with terrific Brow,
Rush'd on my guardless Father at the Banquet,
And plung'd his furious Dagger in thy Breast!
Barbarossa.
Wou'dst thou appal me by a brain-sick Vision?
Get thee to Rest.—Sleep but as sound till Morn,
As Selim in his Grave shall sleep for ever,
And then no haggard Dreams shall ride thy Fancy!
Irene.
Yet hear me, dearest Father!
Barbarossa.
To the Couch!
Provoke me not.—
Irene.
What shall I say, to move him!
Merciful Heav'n, instruct me what to do!
Enter Aladin.
Barbarossa.
What mean thy Looks?—why dost thou gaze so wildly?
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I hasted to inform thee, that ev'n now,
Rounding the Watch, I met the brave Abdalla,
Breathless with Tydings of a Rumour dark,
Which runs throughout the City, that young Selim
Is yet alive—
Barbarossa.
May Plagues consume the Tongue
That broach'd the Falshood!—'Tis not possible—
What did he tell thee further?
Aladin.
More he said not:
Save only, that the spreading Rumour wak'd
A Spirit of Revolt.
Irene.
O gracious Father!—
Barbarossa.
The Rumour lies.—And, yet, your Coward Fears
Infect me!—What!—shall I be terrify'd
By midnight Visions?—Can the troubled Brain
Of Sleep out-stretch the Reason's waking Eye?
I'll not believe it.
Aladin.
But this gath'ring Rumour—
Think but on that, my Lord!
Barbarossa.
Infernal Darkness
Swallow the Slave that rais'd it!—Yet, I'll do
What Caution dictates.—Hark thee. Aladin—
Slave, hear my Will.—See that the Watch be doubled—
Seek out this strange Achmet; and forthwith
Let him be brought before me.
Irene.
O my Father!
I do conjure thee, as thou lov'st thy Life,
Retire, and trust thee to thy faithful Guards—
See not this Achmet!
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Not see him?—Death and Torment!—
Think'st thou, I fear a single Arm that's mortal?
Not see him?—Forthwith bring the Slave before me.—
If he prove false,—if hated Selim live,
I'll heap such Vengeance on him—
Irene.
Mercy! Mercy!
Barbarossa.
Mercy,—To whom?
Irene.
To me:—and to thyself:
To him—to all—Thou think'st I rave; yet true
My Visions are, as ever Prophet utter'd,
When Heavn inspires his Tongue!
Barbarossa.
Ne'er did the Moon-struck Madman rave with Dreams
More wild than thine!—Get thee to rest; e'er yet
Thy Folly wake my Rage.—Call Achmet hither.
Irene.
Thus prostrate on my Knees!—O see him not.
Selim is dead:—Indeed the Rumour lies!—
There is no Danger near:—Or, if there be,
Achmet is innocent!
Barbarossa.
Off, frantic Wretch!
This Ideot-Dream hath turn'd her Brain to Madness!
Hence—to thy Chamber, till returning Reason
Hath calm'd this Tempest.—On thy Duty hence!
Irene.
Yet hear the Voice of Caution!—Cruel Fate!
What have I done!—Heav'n shield my dearest Father!
Heav'n shield the innocent!—Undone Irene!
Whate'er th'Event, thy Doom is Misery.
[Exit Irene.
Barbarossa.
Her Words are wrapt in Darkness.—Aladin,
Forthwith send Achmet hither.—Mark him well.—
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Double the Centinels.
[Exit Aladin.
Infernal Guilt!
How dost thou rise in ev'ry hideous Shape,
Of Rage and Doubt, Suspicion and Despair,
To rend my Soul! more wretched far than they,
Made wretched by my Crimes!—Why did I not
Repent, while yet my Crimes were delible!
Ere they had struck their Colours thro' my Soul,
As black as Night or Hell!—'Tis now too late!—
Hence then, ye vain Repinings!—Take me all,
Unfeeling Guilt! O banish, if thou canst,
This fell Remorse, and ev'ry fruitless Fear!
Be this my Glory,—to be great in Evil!
To combat my own Heart, and, scorning Conscience,
Rise to exalted Crimes!
Enter Selim.
Come hither, Slave:—
Hear me, and tremble:—Art thou what thou seem'st?
Selim.
Ha!—
Barbarossa.
Do'st thou pause?—By Hell, the Slave's confounded!
Selim.
That Barbarossa shou'd suspect my Truth!
Barbarossa.
Take heed! For by the hov'ring Pow'rs of Vengeance,
If I do find thee treach'rous, I will doom thee
To Death and Torment, such as human Thought
Ne'er yet conceiv'd! Thou com'st beneath the Guise
Of Selim's Murderer.—Now tell me:—Is not
That Selim yet alive?
Selim.
Selim alive!
Barbarossa.
Perdition on thee! Dost thou echo me!
Answer me quick, or Die!
[Draws his Dagger.
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Yes, freely strike.—
Already hast thou giv'n the fatal Wound,
And pierc'd my Heart with thy unkind Suspicion!
Oh, cou'd my Dagger find a Tongue, to tell
How deep it drank his Blood!—But since thy Doubt
Thus wrongs my Zeal,—Behold my Breast—strike here—
For bold is Innocence.
Barbarossa.
I scorn the Task.
[Puts up his Dagger.
Time shall decide thy Doom.—Guards, mark me well.
See that ye watch the Motions of this Slave:
And if he meditates t'escape your Eye,
Let your good Sabres cleave him to the Chine.
Selim.
I yield me to thy Will, and when thou know'st
That Selim lives, or seest his hated Face,
Then wreak thy Vengeance on me.
Barbarossa.
Bear him hence.—
Yet, on your Lives, await me within Call.—
I will have deeper Inquisition made:
Haply some Witness may confront the Slave,
And drag to Light his Falshood.
[Exeunt Selim and Guards.
Call Zaphira.
[Exit a Slave.
If Selim lives—then what is Barbarossa?
My Throne's a Bubble, that but floats in Air,
Till Marriage-Rites declare Zaphira mine.—
Fool that I am! To wait the weak Effects
Of slow Persuasion: when unbounded Pow'r
Can give me all I wish!—Slave, hear my Will,—
Fly,—bid the Priest prepare the Marriage-Rites.
Let Incense rise to Heav'n; and choral Songs
Attend Zaphira to the nuptial Bed.
[Exit Slave.
I will not brook Delay.—By Love and Vengeance,
This Hour decides her Fate!
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Well, haughty Fair.—
Hath Reason yet subdu'd thee? Wilt thou hear
The Voice of Love?
Zaphira.
Why dost thou vainly urge me?
Thou know'st my fix'd Resolve.
Barbarossa.
Can aught but Phrenzy
Rush on Perdition?
Zaphira.
Therefore shall no Pow'r
E'er make me thine.
Barbarossa.
Nay, sport not with my Rage:
Tho' yon suspected Slave affirms him dead;
Yet Rumour whispers, that young Selim lives.
Zaphira.
Cou'd I but think him so! my earnest Pray'r
Shou'd rise to Heav'n, to keep him far from thee!
Barbarossa.
Therefore, lest Treach'ry undermine my Pow'r,
Know, that thy final Hour of Choice is come!
Zaphira.
I have no Choice.—Think'st thou I e'er will wed
The Murderer of my Lord?
Barbarossa.
Take heed, rash Queen!
Tell me thy last Resolve.
Zaphira.
Then hear me, Heav'n!
Hear all ye Pow'rs that watch o'er Innocence!
Angels of Light! And thou, dear honor'd Shade
Of my departed Lord! attend, while here
I ratify with Vows my last Resolve!
If e'er I wed this Tyrant Murderer,
If I pollute me with this horrid Union,
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May ye, the Ministers of Heav'n, depart,
Nor shed your Influence on the guilty Scene!—
May Horror blacken all our Days and Nights!
May Discord light the Nuptial Torch! And rising
From Hell, may swarming Fiends in Triumph howl
Around th'accursed Bed!
Barbarossa.
Begone, Remorse!—
Guards do your Office: Drag her to the Altar.
Heed not her Tears or Cries.—What?—dare ye doubt?
Instant obey my Bidding;—or, by Hell,
Torment and Death shall overtake you all!
[Guards go to seize Zaphira.
Zaphira.
O spare me!—Heav'n protect me!—O my Son,
Wert thou but here, to save thy helpless Mother!—
What shall I do!—Undone, undone Zaphira!
Enter Selim.
Selim.
Who call'd on Achmet?—Did not Barbarossa
Require me here?
Barbarossa.
Officious Slave, retire!
I call'd thee not.
Zaphira.
O kind and gen'rous Stranger, lend thy Aid!
O rescue me from these impending Horrors!
Heav'n will reward thy Pity!
Barbarossa.
Drag her hence!
Selim.
Pity her Woes, O mighty Barbarossa!
Barbarossa.
Rouze not my Vengeance, Slave!
Selim.
Oh, hear me, hear me!
[Kneels.
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Curse on thy forward Zeal!—
Selim.
Yet, yet have Mercy.
[Lays hold of Barbarossa's Garment.
Barbarossa.
Presuming Slave, begone!
[Strikes Selim.
Selim.
Nay, then,—die Tyrant.
[Rises, and aims to stab Barbarossa.
Barbarossa wrests his Dagger from him.
Barbarossa.
Ah, Traitor, have I caught thee.—Hold—forbear—
[To Guards who offer to kill Selim.
Kill him not yet.—I will have greater Vengeance.—
Perfidious Wretch, who art thou?—Bring the Rack:
Let that extort the Secrets of his Heart.
Selim.
Thy impious Threats are lost! I know that Death
And Torments are my Doom.—Yet, ere I die,
I'll strike thy Soul with Horror.—Off, vile Habit!—
Let me emerge from this dark Cloud that hides me,
And make my Setting glorious!—If thou dar'st,
Now view me!—Hear me, Tyrant!—while with Voice
More dreadful than of Thunder, I proclaim,
That he who aim'd the Dagger at thy Heart,
Is Selim!
Zaphira.
O Heav'n! my Son! my Son!
[She faints.
Selim.
Unhappy Mother!
[Runs to embrace her.
Barbarossa.
Tear them asunder.
[Guards separate them.
Selim.
Barb'rous, barb'rous Ruffians!
Barbarossa.
Slaves, seize the Traitor.
[They offer to seize him.
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Off, ye vile Slaves! I am your King!—Retire,
And tremble at my Frowns! That is the Traitor;
That is the Murd'rer, Tyrant, Ravisher: Seize him,
And do your Country Right!
Barbarossa.
Ah, Coward Dogs!
Start ye at Words!—or seize him, or by Hell,
This Dagger ends you all.
[They seize him.
Selim.
'Tis done!—Dost thou revive, unhappy Queen!
Now arm thy Soul with Patience!
Zaphira.
My dear Son!—
Do I then live, once more to see my Selim!—
But Oh—to see thee thus!—
[Weeping.
Selim.
Canst thou behold
Her speechless Agonies, and not relent!
Barbarossa.
At length Revenge is mine!—Slaves, force her hence!
This Hour shall crown my Love.
Zaphira.
O Mercy, Mercy!
Selim.
Lo! Barbarossa! thou at length hast conquer'd!
Behold a hapless Prince, o'erwhelm'd with Woes,
[Kneels.
Prostrate before thy Feet!—Not for myself
I plead!—Yes, plunge the Dagger in my Breast!
Tear, tear me piecemeal! But, O spare Zaphira!—
Yet, yet relent! force not her Matron Honour!
Reproach not Heav'n!—
Barbarossa.
Have I then bent thy Pride?
Why, this is Conquest ev'n beyond my Hope!—
Lie there, thou Slave! lie, till Zaphira's Cries
Arouze thee from thy Posture!
Selim.
Dost thou insult my Griefs?—unmanly Wretch!—
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[Rising.
My Coward Limbs, to this dishonest Posture!
Long have I scorn'd, I now defy thy Pow'r.
Barbarossa.
I'll put thy boasted Virtue to the Trial.—
Slaves, bear him to the Rack.
Zaphira.
O spare my Son!
Sure filial Virtue never was a Crime!
Save but my Son!—I yield me to thy Wish!—
What do I say!—The Marriage Vow—O Horror!
This Hour shall make me thine!—
Selim.
What! doom thyself
The guilty Partner of a Murderer's Bed,
Whose Hands yet reek with thy dear Husband's Blood!—
To be the Mother of destructive Tyrants,
The Curses of Mankind!—By Heav'n, I swear,
The guilty Hour that gives thee to the Arms
Of that detested Murderer, shall end
This hated Life!—
Barbarossa.
Or yield thee, or he dies!—
Zaphira.
The Conflict's past.—I will resume my Greatness:
We'll bravely die, as we have liv'd, with Honour!
[Embracing.
Selim.
Now, Tyrant, pour thy fiercest Fury on us:—
Now see, despairing Guilt! that Virtue still
Shall conquer, tho' in Ruin.
Barbarossa.
Drag them hence:
Her to the Altar:—Selim to his Fate.
Zaphira.
O Selim! O my Son!—Thy Doom is Death!
Wou'd it were mine!
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Wou'd I cou'd give it thee!
Is there no Means to save her! Lend, ye Guards,
Ye Ministers of Death, in Pity lend
Your Swords, or some kind Weapon of Destruction!—
Sure the most mournful Boon, that ever Son
Ask'd for the best of Mothers!
Zaphira.
Dearest Selim!
Barbarossa.
I'll hear no more.—Guards, bear them to their Fate.
[Guards seize them.
Selim.
One last Embrace!
Farewel! Farewel for ever!
[Guards struggle with them.
Zaphira.
One Moment yet!—Pity a Mother's Pangs!—
O Selim!
Selim.
O my Mother!
[Exeunt Selim and Zaphira.
Barbarossa.
My dearest Hopes are blasted!—What is Pow'r;
If stubborn Virtue thus out-soar its Flight!
Yet he shall die.—and she—
Enter Aladin.
Aladin.
Heav'n guard my Lord!
Barbarossa.
What mean'st thou, Aladin?
Aladin.
A Slave arrived,
Says that young Selim lives: Nay, somewhere lurks
Within these Walls.
Barbarossa.
The lurking Traitor's found,
Convicted, and disarm'd.—Ev'n now he aim'd
This Dagger at my Heart.
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Audacious Traitor!
The Slave says further, that he brings thee Tydings
Of dark Conspiracy, now hov'ring o'er us:
And claims thy private Ear.
Barbarossa.
Of dark Conspiracy?
Where?—Among whom?
Aladin.
The secret Friends of Selim,
Who nightly haunt the City.
Barbarossa.
Curse the Traitors!
Now speed thee Aladin.—Send forth our Spies:
Explore their Haunts. For, by th'infernal Pow'rs,
I will let loose my Rage.—The furious Lion
Now foams indignant, scorning Tears and Cries.
Let Selim forthwith die.—Come, mighty Vengeance!
Stir me to Cruelty! The Rack shall groan
With new-born Horrors!—I will issue forth,
Like Midnight-Pestilence! My Breath shall strew
The Streets with Dead; and Havock stalk in Gore.
Hence, Pity!—Feed the milky Thought of Babes:
Mine is of bloodier Hue.
| Barbarossa | |