University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Count Raymond's Castle. After Sun set.
Count Raymond and Ronsard advancing.
RAYMOND.
Yes, Ronsard, ere to-morrow noon my Country
Shall triumph o'er her Foes. But whence these Sounds
Of Feast and Joy, that echo from my Towers!
Whence round my Gate these Soldiers filed in Rank

RONSARD.
The Admiral of France, my Lord, commands them,
And see, he beckons us.

RAYMOND.
Yes, I perceive him.
Forgive my Lord—the unexpected Blaze
[to the Adm.
And Voice of Revelry has stunn'd my Thoughts.
—Alas, my Lord,
Ill suits this sacred House with guardless Riot!
In times like these, beneath the open Sky,
The Night dew dropping from his dangling Curls,
The Soldier should out watch the peeping Stars
Of chilly Dawn. But here, O Shame to Manhood!
Perfum'd and shuddering at the drizzly Shower,
Beneath the gilded Roof, the silken Warrior
Of these degenerate Days in wanton Luxury
Unstrings his feeble Sinews! Oh my Country!
Forgive my wandering Passions—haste, my Lord,
If as my Heart misgives me, if my Sovereign
Here lost in Revel wastes the unvalued Hours,
Haste lead me to him; Bourbon's, my Country's Fate,
Hang on my Lips.

LORD ADMIRAL.
Bourbon, my Lord,
Is fled, confused as from a total Rout.

RAYMOND.
Ha, Bourbon fled—Destruction to my Country
Follows that thin delusion—Where is my Sovereign—

LORD ADMIRAL.
Mark me, my Lord; this keen Impatience suits not
Your present Danger.

RAYMOND.
Danger to me peculiar!
Yet say, where lies it.

LORD ADMIRAL.
In the King's Displeasure,
For this your Disobedience, which your Foes,
May vaump in Treason's Garb.

RAYMOND.
Be plain, my Lord,
You speak a Language to my Heart unknown.

LORD ADMIRAL.
And plain then be it:
Here, my Lord, your Presence
Is disobedience: Your commanded Duty
Calls you to other Station.

RAYMOND.
Darker still
Are these ambiguous Words—A Soldier's Duty,
My King's Command I never disobey'd.

LORD ADMIRAL.
The King, when Bourbon fled, sent his Command
That Raymond still should guard Marseilles' torn Walls,
Lest Bourbon's Flight be only Stratagem,
Till he himself to-morrow Noon reliev'd him.
Such the Command: and Raymond now stands here
In Act of daring Disobedience.

RAYMOND.
Ah now, the dreary Gleam,
As of a funeral Torch, breaks thro' the Darkness
That veil'd your Words. But Raymond were a Traitor
Were he not here, and earnest to demand
An Audience of his Sovereign; tell him Count Raymond
Has left Marseilles; tell him his Crown depends
On my immediate Audience—No, myself
Shall bring Conviction.

LORD ADMIRAL.
That my Lord were Treason
In me, in these, not to prevent.

RAYMOND.
What Madness this! what thriftless waste of Time,
The Sword has nobler Work—And instantly,
I will have Audience.

LORD ADMIRAL.
Yet, brave Raymond hear.
First, let me tell him that important Reasons
Have brought you here: but as you love your Country,
First let me urge the Reasons that perswade
Myself, ere to your Sovereign unprepar'd,
Unthank'd I bring you.

RAYMOND.
Thankless it shall not be;
And speed, Lord Admiral, as you would spurn
The Name of Traitor—
[Ex. Lord Admiral.
Ronsard, in your Eye
[to Ronsard.
I read Amazement—in myself I feel
An unform'd Horror, and ill-boding Darkness—
Oh my Erminia—All gracious Heaven,
Where am I lost!

RONSARD.
My Friend, my better Father!
O good my Lord, far from your generous Heart
Be these vile Terrors.

RAYMOND.
Ere the sacred altar,
Witness'd her plighted faith, my lov'd Erminia
Plighted her troth, and I esteemed it sacred,
For by her love she vow'd, never to grace
The Court of Valois. When the extacy
Of love's completion was a new existence,
When all the passion of that generous time
Fires the affections, and each melting wish
But glows to please, she read my secret thought,
And fondly promised never in my absence
To give her presence to the passing guest.
Yet this dread night—

RONSARD.
To night, my Lord, the King
Commands your castle.

RAYMOND.
And I know him well,
I feel some leaden hand invisible,
Weigh down my freezing heart—Where the Kite hovers,
The quarry lies in view—Soon Bourbon's thunder
Shall sound another peal, than that which now
Kindles this lust inspiring revelry.
Yet ere I warn my Sovereign of his danger,
Ere for my country I can draw my sword.
My Heart's sole treasure, my Erminia's safety,
Must to my heart be firm assur'd—Till then
The King I see not. In the bower that shades
My Chapel wall, I wait, till you good Ronsard,
Bring me my aged Uncle, honour'd Bramville;
His words I'll trust. Oh speed; my spouse, my country,
Urge violent speed.—
[Exit Ronsard.
—Base world, how dost thou teem
With foul events! Justice and every service
Are all mere cob-web films to bind the hands
Of Lust and Tyranny! Good Heaven, what dangers
Frown dreadful on me! O Erminia,
Wilt thou prove false! Away, the thought is treason.
Their witch like creeping arts affect not thee,
Yet oft with pain and fear have I beheld
A little, wayward, giddy levity,
Shew its capricious features in the midst
Of thy endearments, while the languid sigh,
And eye disatisfied, would tell the wish
For courtly grandeur. Ah, my boding heart!
Away, these cruel and ungenerous thoughts—
Yet fear gnaws deep—the King; ay that admits
No hesitation—