University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Apartment in the Palace.
Fedrowitz and Orcan.
FEDROWITZ.
Such wrongs will force their way;—a sister's fame,
The honour of her son,—all—all conspire,
To pull down vengeance on him.

ORCAN.
Then do it bravely,
Not hunt him tamely with a common fate,
But front him in a war—proclaim his guilt,
Urge, and avow it.

FEDROWITZ.
Was it for this, the queen
Linger'd in absence,—yielded up her days
A prey to solitude,—cloister'd her charms
In barren expectation, cold suspense?
This her reward!—are these the fruits of virtue?
The Czar perhaps himself is nobly-minded,
But favourites trample on the wisest laws,
Whene'er ambition sets their wheels in motion;
With basest arts can undermine a state,
And pass those arts for virtues.

ORCAN.
Then you suspect
This Artamon?

FEDROWITZ.
Suspect!—suspect dost say?
I know and will unveil his dark designs;
He is the cause of all these hell-born mischiefs.

ORCAN.
But sure the Czar—

FEDROWITZ.
Is of himself right-noble,
But subject to the force of new impressions;
This Artamon has laid a snare before him,
And straight he's caught in the alluring toil.

ORCAN.
Who is this Artamon?

FEDROWITZ.
A Swedish captain,
Who can instruct the Czar;—he's prompt to learn,
Tho' oft from minds less-tutor'd than his own.

ORCAN.
'Tis strange,—what could he learn from him?

FEDROWITZ.
Nothing,
Unless by treachery to mine the strength
He boldly should oppose;—during the war
This Swede presented him a beauteous maid,
So killing fair, if you'll believe report,
That, like another Anthony, our Czar,
E'en from the summit of imperial sway,
Might wisely fall for love!—oh! such a maid
That rapture, borne upon the Eagle's wing,
Lags short of her perfections.

ORCAN.
What more of this?

FEDROWITZ.
This slave must blast the honour of my house,
He makes quick room, he drags a queen to death,
And dooms her son a captive.

ORCAN.
Where is the prince?

FEDROWITZ.
'Tis said, he's closely guarded near the camp;
But ere the Czar returns in triumph here,
Is convoy'd into banishment.

ORCAN.
Unhappy youth!

FEDROWITZ.
No Pity now!—think'st thou we'll not revenge
Such daring outrage? is there no fire, no zeal
In Russia left?—are men now authorized
To tread down truth and justice,—banish virtue,
And build upon the ruin one great fabrick,
And call that fabrick empire?

ORCAN.
And yet I fear
There's danger in the attempt.

FEDROWITZ.
There is in all,
And he, who rises not above his fears,
Should bleed their victim.

ORCAN.
The Czar will be inform'd,
And punish the deep arts of such a traitor.

FEDROWITZ.
Who can inform him?—is he not beset
With sycophants, who strew his treacherous way
With flowers for guilt to tread on?—dangerous baits;
Where novelty gives relish to opinion.
This woman's youthful charms from him conceals
Vice in a snare, and ambush in endearment.

ORCAN.
But you impeach the Czar by these suspicions,
And boldly frown on him who awes the world.

FEDROWITZ.
He awes not me:—I rise superior to him,
And should there be no means to crush this slave,
I'll shake the very throne;—I'll see the Queen,
And if loud Fame not errs in the report,
If by herself confirm'd, such wrongs assail,
I'll fall or I'll redress them.

ORCAN.
Lead on, my friend,
My hand, my heart is your's, and here I swear—

FEDROWITZ.
No oath! our cause be our best sacrament!
There's truth and virtue in't, and honest men
Will greatly dare for't.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Prison.
OTTOKESA.
'Tis well—this deep-felt gloom—this awful silence—
This is sunk Melancholy's last abode,
Here let my fancy rove!
And here I'll picture unsubstantial forms
To visit my sick dreams;
There is a vault, where piteous infants oft
Have smil'd in vain, and kiss'd the hands that bound them;
There too their frantic mothers tore their hair,
And wore their limbs along the flinty pavement,
While some stern ruffians, by the place inspir'd,
Murder'd their babes in luxury of guilt.
Hail, dreadful mansion, hail!—here let me fix;
While frequent list'ning to yon doleful bell,
I lose myself in horrors,—till some lone owl,
Waked by a groan more hideous than the rest,
Echoes aloud the woes it cannot feel.

Enter Fedrowitz, speaking to the Guard.
FEDROWITZ.
Lo! where she stands!—oh! what a sight is there?
How can I bear to view that suff'ring virtue!

OTTOKESA.
Who art thou?—speak!—Ah!—my brother here!

FEDROWITZ.
Yes,—
Thy kind brother, whose every sense is struck
With grief at thy distress.

OTTOKESA.
You'll pity me;
You'll not forsake me then, tho' all the world,
That flutters only in the noontide beam,
Declines my setting fate!

FEDROWITZ.
Forsake thee!—No!
If yet there lives or power, or truth, or justice,
I will redress thy wrongs.

OTTOKESA.
Never—oh! never;
I'm but a speck on the expanse of empire,
Made by a breath, and blighted.

FEDROWITZ.
Wrongs like your's
Avenge themselves,—make red the front of war;
Melt e'en the flinty frosts of Russian breasts,
And make them pour their force.

OTTOKESA.
No,—tho' my woes
Be past endurance,—yet my all-powerful love
Protects and shields the Czar;—tho' here forsaken,
Deserted as I stand, yet still I feel
The bands that first entwin'd us;—time may do much;
There yet may come an hour, when he shall hear
How deep my wrongs!—He'll hear, and may redress them.

FEDROWITZ.
Were you alone to suffer, you might plead,
To save his falsehood from the storm that gathers;
You for yourself content might linger here,
And live up to the summit of despair;
But you have other claims;—a banish'd son,
Whose very life even now—

OTTOKESA.
Aye—there I bleed,
There you awaken all a mother's fondness;
Let's see for speedy means,—a stricter guard
May soon deprive me of a brother's counsel:—
And yet there are no means,—the troops in arms
Are ever guarded to the front of danger;
My son might forfeit every darling hope,
Nor we have power to save him.

FEDROWITZ.
What could he lose?
The Czar already makes him sign his death,
Or worse than death—a bar to his succession;
This was enforc'd before I left the camp,
And banishment for him was doom'd eternal.

OTTOKESA.
You kindle all my rage;—an act like this
Nerves me with manly strength, and I methinks
Could brave a field of foes;—this instant say
Whence all our ills began.

FEDROWITZ.
The story's tedious;
A Swedish knave, a favourite of the Czar's,
Has rais'd this dire commotion in the State;
Another Queen,—some strange all-conquering charm
Has sprung to light through him.

OTTOKESA
(after a pause).
Yet I forgive!
And yield up every thought of due revenge;
My darling son, the cause of all my cares,
By this may breathe his last;—how could his frame
Endure the bitter pangs of such keen misery!
E'en now perhaps he calls on me for succour
In hunger and disgrace,—in vain he calls
To me for help, for shelter or redress,
To wail his woes, or close his dying eyes.

FEDROWITZ.
Grief figures ills beyond the doom of fate;
No time must now be lost,—I'll raise a war;
There yet remain from bold Sophia's bands,
Troops of no common force.

OTTOKESA.
I'll ne'er consent;
I love the people, as I lov'd their monarch;
What have they done, that they should suffer for me?
Shall they who grateful bring their ready sheaves,
The gleanings of their unremitting toil,
Be murder'd for their pains? they now are happy;
For me shall they give up their peaceful homes?
Shall they leave all their little hives of sweets,
And barter blessings for wide-wasting war?

FEDROWITZ.
'Tis in the cause of justice.—Shall each man,
In the extended scale of human being,
Feel only for himself?—'tis public stock,
And all must struggle in a common danger.

OTTOKESA.
I see rebellion in a murth'rous form,
Stalking his guilty rounds, treading on the necks
Of tenderest infants, calling aloud for mercy,
While mothers, fond as I am, plead their woes,
And plead those woes in vain;—yet do I swear,
I would relinquish all;—give up the Czar,
Give up myself to torture, shame, or death,
So I might once again embrace my boy,
And fold him in these arms.

Enter Alexis, disguised.
ALEXIS.
Embrace him here.
For lo! he comes to snatch thee from despair!

FEDROWITZ.
Ah! see, she faints!—this unexpected joy
Bears down her languid soul!—help to support her!

OTTOKESA.
Say, who art thou, that from the dream of death
Art come so like that form, that angel-form,
That was my son?

ALEXIS.
Disguis'd I flew to see you.

OTTOKESA.
Speak, then, what art thou?

ALEXIS.
Your son, your darling boy,
Now doom'd to exile, but who in this rude garb,
Through friendly aid, before the Czar arrives,
Has stol'n this anxious hour.

OTTOKESA.
And can it be?
Welcome—oh! welcome, to my soul more dear
Than any joy that Fancy could create!
'Tis he—'tis he himself—I hold him now—
We never more will part,—I have him still,—
Nor shall a cruel father tear him from me.

ALEXIS.
Alas! my time is short,—Olaria watches now
The fleeting moment.—Should the Czar arrive
Before I leave, my death would straight be sentenc'd.

OTTOKESA.
O fly this instant, then, and tho' the cord
That holds my heart be sever'd at the stroke—
Yet fly;—I charge thee, fly.

ALEXIS.
Our friends await,
And will advise in time.

FEDROWITZ.
We'll think of aid;
For if there be a power, whereon to hang
The slightest hope, I will—I will avenge thee.

ALEXIS.
No hope remains for me, I've sign'd my death,
My death to fame, to justice, and to empire.

FEDROWITZ.
Then let the Czar reverse the black decree!
For such compulsion, such a daring outrage,
His fame, his conquests—nay, his very life,
Becomes too mean a sacrifice.

OTTOKESA.
Say not his life,
O think of gentler means; for know the stroke
That ends the Czar, will stab your Ottokesa.

ALEXIS.
Here in the awful sight of Heaven I swear,
To give up all that's precious to my soul
Rather than wound a father;—all—but thee,
Whose virtue makes me straight recall my vow,
Nerves me with strength, fans every fire within me,
And instant I am arm'd a parricide.

OTTOKESA.
Too much, my boy,—this overwhelming kindness
Is equal death.—See, the denouncer comes,
And tolls the knell of Fate.

Enter Olaria.
OLARIA.
Break off this instant,
The Czar is at the gates,—your watchful guards,
Trembling and anxious for your safety wait,
Nor leave you time to take a last farewell.

OTTOKESA.
Now, now my soul, oh! summon all thy aid,
Nor call to mind how dear, how lov'd he was!

FEDROWITZ.
Come, my brave youth, new prospects rise before us;
Danger most threatens while we thus delay.

OTTOKESA.
O let me hear by every chance that offers,
Where,—and how true you are.

ALEXIS.
My life to obey you!

OTTOKESA.
Thus then in one embrace take all my heart,
And fly, ere I pronounce that word—Farewell!

FEDROWITZ.
We go together;—if victorious wreaths
Shall crown our deeds but equal to our daring,
When next we meet, that meeting shall be grateful.

OTTOKESA.
In mercy stop,—let me again repeat,
Should any hand destroy my guilty Lord,
Death ends your sister too.

FEDROWITZ.
Oh! dread it not.

OTTOKESA.
This one,—this last embrace! ill-omen'd fears
Betray me now—I never more shall see thee,
I never more shall hold thee in these arms;
Fate will deprive thee of a mother's care,
Ere the tomb yawn to close thee; oh! that thought
Renews each trembling pang;—the little aid
My hopes had gather'd for this mournful parting,
Now fails me when I want it; there, take me, Heav'n!
In this dire struggle of my soul—now, now I yield—
I sink o'erwhelm'd with woe.

[Faints into Olaria's arms.
FEDROWITZ.
This is the moment;
Oh! seize it now, ere she again revive;
Another pang would end her.

ALEXIS.
Farewell, farewell!
Bright excellence!—and oh! Olaria! now,
By every hope thou hast of future bliss,
If e'er I shared your tenderest—least regard,
If e'er my mother won you by her kindness,
If pity pleads for wrongs beyond atonement,
In this extreme of anguish shield and save her!