 | The Czar |  |
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ACT V.
SCENE I.
The Prison.Ottokesa discovered in the Cell.—Olaria, on the front ground, with an Attendant.
OLARIA.
Alas! ill-fated Queen!—lo! where she lies
In yon drear cell!—sad spectacle of woe!
When will her sufferings cease?
Sometimes I've hopes that a refreshing sleep
Might yet alleviate,—and then again,
When the wind murmurs through these hollow vaults,
I think she has breathed her last.—What noise is that?
Hark! sure some hasty steps!—my friend retire—
And wait awhile without.
Enter Catharine, veiled.
Ah! who art thou,
That look'st so like a sister of affliction?
CATHARINE.
A very wretch, who from the height of bliss
Am plung'd into despair.—Where is the Queen?
OLARIA.
Behold her in yon dungeon!—Misery like hers
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And make it own its crimes.—See her approach!
OTTOKESA.
Whence this intrusion?—
I thought that sorrow's mansions were held sacred:—
Indeed I'm wretched;—why at my last sad hour
Com'st thou to eye my woes?
CATHARINE.
Not to eye alone;
To feel, to share, to pity,—to redress them.
OTTOKESA.
That's now beyond the utmost reach of art;
A few short moments bear my child to fate,
Nor shall I long survive.
CATHARINE.
Perhaps not all
Are deaf to your complaints;—declare to me
Whom most you do suspect; I yet may clear
Your injur'd innocence.
OTTOKESA.
A blooming bride,
A fatal fair, who steals unwary hearts,
Whose beauty makes my crimes, while a fell slave,
To aggrandize himself, stamps deep the ruin.
CATHARINE.
Lives there a wretch so vile to forge such crimes,
And brand a guiltless name?
OTTOKESA.
Yes,—Artamon.
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Ah! say'st thou—Artamon?
OTTOKESA.
Yes, he alone
Has blown these fires betwixt the Czar and me.
CATHARINE.
Could Artamon alone assert your guilt,
Could Artamon destroy your spotless fame,
Could he thus urge the bolts of angry Heaven,
And stalk in stern defiance?
OTTOKESA.
Yes, he,—that wretch;
He watches every weakness of the Czar;
Guilt made by him is fate.
CATHARINE.
Could Artamon?—
OTTOKESA.
What means this iteration of his name?
Ere from Pultowa's siege the credulous Czar
Came flush'd with conquest,—then this serpent sow'd
The seed of doubt in his once faithful breast;
A fatal seed it is,—tho' small its birth,
Yet in a fruitful soil it soon will spread,
And poison all beneath its baneful branches.
CATHARINE.
You say that Artamon forced up this plant;—
Excuse my freedom, Queen, but know hereafter
This may unravel to the Czar a tale,
A wondrous tale,
That may redress and save you.
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Never! never!
Love has escaped his breast,—I've wearied him;
Another there has fix'd the seat of empire
On Ottokesa's ruin.
CATHARINE.
But let me plead!
OTTOKESA.
I guess you come from Catharine;—tell the Queen
I ask not for myself,—'tis now too late;
But if she will entreat to save my child,
I'll die, and yield forgiveness.
CATHARINE.
I seize the gift—
A gift that Heaven imparts to cheer my soul
In my life-weary path—important gift—
I am—I am that Queen.
[Kneels, and seizes Ottokesa's hand, throwing up her veil.
OTTOKESA.
You much amaze me.
CATHARINE.
Indeed I'm innocent of all your wrongs,—
Indeed I am;—I cannot tell you now;
Time presses on us, and your son's in danger;—
Go to the Czar,—plead there your injur'd fame,
Strain every power that may reclaim his heart,
I'll fly before, and urge him to compliance;—
Though death lay arm'd to bar me—I'll entreat,—
I'll be myself the sacrifice, and cheerful take
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[Exit Catharine.
OTTOKESA.
I fear I've been too hasty;—pardon, Heaven!
Pardon, that lost in thy mysterious ways
I've dared arraign thy justice,—perhaps e'en now,
Tho' to the sickly eye of deep despair
My woes were past redress,—e'en now perhaps
Thy mercy meant to save me;—if 'twere so
I've been indeed a wretch;—I then am guilty.
SCENE II.
The Palace.Czar, Artamon, Guards, Attendants.
CZAR.
How goes the hour?—the very watch of night
Seems to betray me to prolong his life;
Nay I betray myself; my heart relents
To think I've doom'd a son.
ARTAMON.
Is not the Czar
The father of his people? is one so dear
To hazard all the flock,—to wake rebellion,
And sanctify misrule?
CZAR.
Thou art no parent;
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Else would'st thou plead for mercy, and nature here
Would second all thy kindness;—but thou art rough,
Bred up alone to war, and keenly feel'st
The danger only of the public safety.
ARTAMON.
Your wrongs will justify my rugged zeal,
And urge me on to vengeance.
Did not a cloud of witnesses arise,
Accusing Ottokesa?—you doubted there,
Till the son's guilt confirm'd the mother's baseness.
CZAR.
No,—there I was always fix'd,—the traitress dies;
Her shame would haunt me else in midnight dreams,
And Catharine would have cause to doubt my love;—
Hark! the dreadful bell!—'tis the first hour,—
Again I'll see my boy;—ere the second watch
Hath toll'd its knell we'll take off Ottokesa;—
Guards, execute our will!
Enter Catharine.
CATHARINE.
In pity stop,
Or through this breast make out an easy way
To rid me of my life!
ARTAMON.
Ah! what mean'st thou?
What madness brings thee here at this late hour
To stop the course of justice?—Hence I say!
CATHARINE.
I come to plead the cause of injur'd truth,
To plead for innocence most basely wrong'd,
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The guiltless Queen, you shed your Catharine's blood.
ARTAMON.
Forbid her hence! Prosperity too great
Hath overthrown her reason.
CATHARINE.
'Tis reason prompts,—
I speak the truth;—I here abjure the throne
I never sought for;—happy in your love,
[to the Czar.
Happy alone with you, I could have shared
The wintry blast, or brav'd the howling desert;
But now another claims the rightful crown,
And hurls me down a precipice of fate.
CZAR.
Never! I swear;—I would not part with thee
For ocean's wealth, for the united sway
Of the world's empire.
CATHARINE.
Too true, you must;
You much have been abus'd—by one, I fear,
Whom least you have suspected;—he—I say—
ARTAMON.
Now fly this instant, or by my daring soul
This dagger ends thy life.
[Half draws a dagger.
CZAR.
Seize him this moment!
There's something more in this!—I stand amaz'd!—
'Tis more than honest rage that prompts such vengeance.
ARTAMON.
Zeal—zeal for my Sov'reign's safety,—zeal for him,
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To glitter on his throne.
CZAR.
Such zeal betrays thee.
CATHARINE.
Oh! yes;—the tale I have to tell will chill,
Will freeze thee into horror, curdle thy blood,
And almost make thee curse that once bright hour
That gave thee being.
CZAR.
Speak quickly all the truth.
CATHARINE.
Know, then, before that day, that fatal day,
You took me for your bride, he did enjoin
An awful secret,—so enforc'd its weight—
ARTAMON.
Nay, then there's nothing left but instant death;
So take it!—
CZAR.
Ah! is it come to this?—Guards,
Disarm the traitor!
ARTAMON.
By every power—she lies!
CATHARINE.
Before this fatal hour I never form'd
The least surmise of Ottokesa's virtue.
He told me she was sentenc'd by the laws,
Or I had plung'd into the depths of fate,
Ere lived to wound her peace.
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I do believe thee.
CATHARINE.
Here then I quit your throne, and here I swear,
I'll sooner wander o'er the earth forlorn,
Than rise on guilty steps.
CZAR.
But yet, the secret!
The secret!—speak; for still I'm on the rack!
CATHARINE.
Ambition prompted it,—that fatal flame
Burnt up the seeds of virtue;—you he found
Were apt to think what interest made him speak;
You knew my birth was mean,—knew 'twas ignoble,
But oh! you knew no then the guilty truth,
He—he was my Father!
CZAR.
“Father!” dost thou say?
Guards, bear him hence, drag him to instant tortures!
CATHARINE.
Oh stop—in mercy stop, and timely think
He is my Father still,—and tho' his guilt
Be past atonement;—tho' his boundless pride
Made me the victim,—doom'd me to worse than death;
Yet should they execute your dread command,
His child becomes a parricide,—speak, great Prince,
In pity speak, and say that you will save him.
CZAR.
Spare me that question now,—my heart's too full
Of all his frauds, his artifice, and guilt,
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Whom I must ever love—
CATHARINE.
Not as your Queen;
The very throne would tremble, should I now
Attempt the violation.
CZAR.
My dearest life,
I cannot part with thee;—yet, Ottokesa—
Oh! I am torn with fierce conflicting passions!
I now believe her true; but that fell slave
Impress'd my soul with doubt,
Stung me with ceaseless irritating darts,
And circled venom round the throne of bliss.
CATHARINE.
Hence let me fly,—there is no time to pause,
For see, she comes to claim the awful power,
Unknowing I've usurp'd.
CZAR.
Stay—I entreat.
Instant remove this traitor.
[Artamon led off.
Enter Ottokesa attended.
Most injur'd Queen!
Come to my arms, tho' thou can'st ne'er forgive me;
And yet upbraid me not!—This excellence—
For such she is, who most might have betray'd thee,
Has pluck'd the seal from off my dark'ned eyes,
And gives me now again to Ottokesa;
Let me renew my love, restore thy power,
And ransack thought to recompense thy woes.
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Those words had once been dearer to my soul
Than any boon that Heaven could have bestow'd;
But now life ebbs,—yet I delight to view you;
I could not bear to think of your unkindness,
And when I found my son was doom'd to death,
That you were fix'd—were deaf to all entreaties—
The world had nothing left;
I then had trod the precincts of the grave,
And all beyond was harmony and peace.
CZAR.
Run! fly this instant to the prison,—say, the Czar
Demands his much-lov'd son—restores his life,
And will with transport clasp him in his arms.
OTTOKESA.
That is a dawn beyond my utmost hopes;
Had I known that, I would indeed have liv'd,
And blessed you for your kindness.
CZAR.
The thoughts of death
Haunt thy sick fancy still.
OTTOKESA.
They do indeed;
Your cruelty—but oh!—
I meant not to upbraid;—my son's dire fate
I could not live to hear;—there, there was the stroke
That plung'd me down into the last despair,
And then—I then drank poison.
CZAR.
Call for all help!
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OTTOKESA.
'Tis now too late.
CATHARINE.
I hope not yet,—I here will give up all,
Relinquish Russia straight,—pray for your safety,
Nor shall poor Catharine e'er be heard of more.
CZAR.
Look down All-righteous Power, and here behold
Distress in the extreme;—point me to act
As best becomes your will;—I'll dedicate
My every thought to you;—give up my life—
Give up—if yet it be demanded of me,
What's dearer far than life,—a warrior's fame,
My darling thirst of empire.
OTTOKESA.
Live, I charge you,
Live—and be happy in this generous bride,
Whose virtues, spite of fate, compel my love;
Take then this last farewell.
CZAR.
I cannot bear it;
I'll try art to force thee home to joy,
Nor ever quit thee—
OTTOKESA.
I sink,—the tyrant now
Grasps my cold heart,—the threads of life give way,
Nor can I longer hold you.
[Falls into the Attendant's arms.
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Here, dear Queen!
Recline yourself on me!
OTTOKESA.
Say, then, who are you?
[Wildly.
I cannot know you now;—the poison works,
And racks my feeble brain,—'beseech you not
To leave me yet;—I will not long torment you.
CZAR.
O spare this killing language I entreat thee;
Precipitate and rash, my sudden rage—
('Twas Nature's curse)—too oft, alas! prevail'd,
And led me on to deeds my soul abhorr'd.
OTTOKESA.
'Beseech you, then, to bless my dying son
With one kind look!—You now restore him to me,
I hold him tho' expiring;—oh! my dear boy!
They cannot force you now;—stand off, ye Guards,
Ye never more shall tear him from me;—see—
The Czar himself protects him—yields him to me,
And shelters him with care!
CATHARINE.
Alas! she raves!
OTTOKESA.
I do not rave— (hastily)
—I have him all my own,
I have a father's warrant;—share the throne,
Thy mother leads thee to it;—crowds rejoice,
And crowds all hail the glories of thy rising;
Hark, how they shout and rend the ambient air!
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Too feeble for this joy.
CZAR.
Be calm awhile;
He is not yet arriv'd.
OTTOKESA.
I had him then;
(hastily)
As now my tender Lord (turning to the Czar)
I took him to me,—
He wip'd away the tears from my sad eyes,
I shed as he departed.
CZAR.
No more of this!
For now indeed he comes,—the Guards approach;
Your son returns again, returns in triumph,
Returns to grace our throne.
Enter Officer and Guards.
OFFICER.
Alas! he's dead;
By Artamon suborn'd, the treacherous Guards
Struck ere the sign was given.
CZAR.
Heav'ns: 'tis too much;
Man cannot bear such quick successive torture.
OTTOKESA
(to the Officer.)
Did you not say my child was dead?—I thank you,
Yea kindly thank you;—
I was just struggling on the fatal brink,
And this last sentence ends me.
[Dies.
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Farewell, for ever;—
There sunk a glorious fabrick;—my child too!—
What would I not revenge on this curs'd Artamon,
But for my Catharine's love!
CATHARINE.
No more I'll see him;
On some lone beach I'll mourn my weary hours
In penance for his guilt,—make reparation
To Heaven's high throne for his unheard of crimes,
If not fore-doom'd beyond the reach of mercy.
CZAR.
Never! thou perfect Being, thou'r't all the hold
I've left me on my journey;—soon as we've paid
Sepulchral honours to their injur'd shades,
Deck'd their cold tombs with tributary tears,
Which I will plenteous shed,—live then, my Queen;
'Tis your's alone to reign, and bless my people.
CATHARINE.
My cruel father!—
CZAR.
Shall be for life imprison'd;
His conscience be his executioner!
But oh! consent to rule the State I've rais'd,
'Tis now my only wish.
Tho' blinded long, and by a villain lost,
Yet in the bright career of boundless fame
I leave an envied track;—my setting sun
Eclips'd with guilt, almost beyond atonement,
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With renovated strength, new-kindled fires,
To show my Catharine to a gazing world.
| The Czar | |