 | The Secret Tribunal |  |
SCENE, the Market-place.
Four streets there centering, and the Church and Porch of St. Bartholomew upon the right hand. A quarter strikes from the tower.
Enter slowly HOLSTEIN, supporting IDA.
HOLSTEIN.
This is the spot—How cold it is, my child.
IDA.
Bitterly keen, and yet my cheek now glows,
Although an ague seems to shake my joints.
HOLSTEIN.
The chimes have struck, and yet no one appears.
IDA.
My father, look, what dark gigantic form,
Stalks solemnly this way?
HOLSTEIN.
Hush!
[The Minister of Vengeance approaches.]
Who goes there?
HOLSTEIN.
'Tis Ida Holstein, and her aged father.
MINISTER OF VENGEANCE.
The Ministers of Vengeance seek the former:
The latter may depart.
HOLSTEIN.
No, lead me with her.
Force not the parent from his guiltless child.
MINISTER OF VENGEANCE.
That must depend upon your answering me.
What are the names we give to these four streets?
This which the moon illumines, I call fire,
That in the shadow, iron—Name the others.
[Finding him silent.]
Ha! silent—hence! this is no place for you.
HOLSTEIN.
I will not leave my child, my darling—
MINISTER OF VENGEANCE.
[Furiously tearing her from him.]
Hence!
[Ida first clasps her father's knees, and then submits. Holstein still about to follow her is prevented by two other followers of the Tribunal, who drive him quite exhausted into the porch, and exeunt. A long pause, after which the second quarter strikes, and then
HOLSTEIN.
Again that dreary voice reluctant tolls,
In sullen signal, that my child has perish'd.
Her sighs now agitate the moaning wind,
And deepen every gust—Hark, 'tis her voice!
That shriek! O God! what horrors croud upon me!
Groans, deadly groans, are humming in my ears,
And my mind shapes such horrible conceits,
That my brain boils! Behold, the murd'rer comes,
To tell me that my fears are realiz'd!
Enter HERMAN in the habit of the Tribunal.
HOLSTEIN
(rushing towards him.)
Thou sable arm of a mysterious judgment,
Reveal to me her fate—I will sustain it.
Madness has touch'd me with his iron mace,
And I am proof against calamity.
HERMAN.
Restrain this transport, my beloved friend—
Know you not Herman?
HOLSTEIN.
He too sacrific'd!
HERMAN.
No! I am he—follow me—and be firm.
There is nor time nor place for explanation.
Follow, observe my conduct—but be silent.
[Exeunt.
Four streets there centering, and the Church and Porch of St. Bartholomew upon the right hand. A quarter strikes from the tower.
Enter slowly HOLSTEIN, supporting IDA.
HOLSTEIN.
This is the spot—How cold it is, my child.
IDA.
Bitterly keen, and yet my cheek now glows,
Although an ague seems to shake my joints.
55
The chimes have struck, and yet no one appears.
IDA.
My father, look, what dark gigantic form,
Stalks solemnly this way?
HOLSTEIN.
Hush!
[The Minister of Vengeance approaches.]
Who goes there?
HOLSTEIN.
'Tis Ida Holstein, and her aged father.
MINISTER OF VENGEANCE.
The Ministers of Vengeance seek the former:
The latter may depart.
HOLSTEIN.
No, lead me with her.
Force not the parent from his guiltless child.
MINISTER OF VENGEANCE.
That must depend upon your answering me.
What are the names we give to these four streets?
This which the moon illumines, I call fire,
That in the shadow, iron—Name the others.
[Finding him silent.]
Ha! silent—hence! this is no place for you.
56
I will not leave my child, my darling—
MINISTER OF VENGEANCE.
[Furiously tearing her from him.]
Hence!
[Ida first clasps her father's knees, and then submits. Holstein still about to follow her is prevented by two other followers of the Tribunal, who drive him quite exhausted into the porch, and exeunt. A long pause, after which the second quarter strikes, and then
HOLSTEIN.
Again that dreary voice reluctant tolls,
In sullen signal, that my child has perish'd.
Her sighs now agitate the moaning wind,
And deepen every gust—Hark, 'tis her voice!
That shriek! O God! what horrors croud upon me!
Groans, deadly groans, are humming in my ears,
And my mind shapes such horrible conceits,
That my brain boils! Behold, the murd'rer comes,
To tell me that my fears are realiz'd!
Enter HERMAN in the habit of the Tribunal.
HOLSTEIN
(rushing towards him.)
Thou sable arm of a mysterious judgment,
Reveal to me her fate—I will sustain it.
57
And I am proof against calamity.
HERMAN.
Restrain this transport, my beloved friend—
Know you not Herman?
HOLSTEIN.
He too sacrific'd!
HERMAN.
No! I am he—follow me—and be firm.
There is nor time nor place for explanation.
Follow, observe my conduct—but be silent.
[Exeunt.
| The Secret Tribunal | |