University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—A Hall in the Pharaoh Palace; caryatides at back and sides; table, ottomans, etc. Curtain down at back.
Osmandyas seated on an ottoman, Hophrah standing near him.
Osmand.
Thus far has fortune, Hophrah, crown'd our plans;
But ne'er was vessel so near foundering
As ours. That cursed Pahiroth unappalled
By my severity sought out the King,
And roused his slumb'ring senses to the truth.
No matter!—he is punish'd! My commands
Have, doubtless, been obey'd.

Hophr.
They have, great prince;
But, ere we seal'd his prison-door, he cried:
“Ye deem your sov'reign dead; but he still lives,
“And will ere long accomplish mighty deeds;
“Yea, will awake to action in due time;”—
By some great miracle, methought, he meant.

Osmand.
(impatiently).
Psha! He is dead:—the priests pronounced him so:
And who would doubt their wondrous learning, pray?
His body,—mind you,— (with a meaning glance)
which, at their request,
I've handed o'er to them,— (tapping him on shoulder)
they'll answer for.
But tell me;—did Pahiroth speak these words
In other's presence, man, as well as yours?
Who heard this prophecy?

Hophr.
Pahiroth's dead:—
Besides the mutes, who seal'd his living grave,
And me, no witnesses were present, Prince.
Rachel, 'tis true, beheld us seize on him;
But poison has already done its work,
And still'd her voice eternally in death.

Osmand.
(with a malicious smile).
'Tis well:—one enemy more of mine is gone.
Ah! what is that? (Listens.)
Hark! hear you yonder buzz?
It is the sound of people gath'ring fast,—
Not to lament the conqueror they've lost,
The pride of Egypt and the ancient world,
But, while with feigned grief they gather round
His bier, in fact, to welcome ME—his heir.
Haste then: to meet them let us both repair.

[Exit.
[Curtain at back is drawn aside, disclosing a splendid scene; the King, as dead, laid out on a bier of purple, his arms grouped at the head of bier; behind is seen the entrance to the tomb of the Kings (beautifully engraved in colours. See Rossellini's folio work on Egypt. Antiquities), from which numerous Priests come out, bearing torches, symbolical staves, etc.; Mourners, Girls, etc.; Troops, Captives, etc., lining the stage, forming a magnificent spectacle (analog. to Sardanapalus. Costumes from Rossellini's and Wilkinson's ‘Ancient Egyptians.’) Music.
High Priest
(coming forward).
Priests, people, all; ye gallant warriors,
Whom once Rameses led to victory;
Ye captives too, who at his chariot-wheels
Waited in chains; see all that now remains
Of him so long the glory of the Nile,
The conqueror of the world, the king of kings;
With awe approach, and take one parting look,
In turns advancing near his royal bier,
While we to heav'n high raise our mournful strains,
Before in pomp we take it 'neath the gloom
And darkness of yon gorgeous regal tomb.

Dirge.
Recitative.
1st Jewish Maiden.
Hear ye, my dear sisters? dejected slaves
They ask to join their dirges at the grave
Of Egypt's sovereign. How can we bewail
The tyrant dread that held us in his thrall?
No; we'll deceive them. While they think our sighs
Are for the cruel tyrant, who there lies,
We'll for lost Rachel mourn, and, from our eyes,
For our lost of Sharon tears shall flow,
As at Rameses' bier, like slaves, we bow.

Priests.

Maidens.

Chorus.
Mourn people/virgins mourn, for great Rameses/Judah's maiden mourn,
And Egypt of its long-known glory shorn.
Mourn great Rameses, noblest of his/sainted Rachel, fairest of her race,
In glory/beauty peerless, as in grace.

[Just after its commencement, Osmandyas enters, followed by Hophrah, and takes his place, kneeling in pretended grief near the head of the bier.
Enter Nitocris, l. guarded.
High Priest
(after a pause, to the Queen).
Before these blest remains, yon holy tomb,
Destined so soon to hide within its walls
The corse of him you erewhile call'd your lord,
We now pronounce our sentence on you, Queen;
(Looking round)
And listen all, that ye may know we're just.
You've been accused—too many witnesses,
Alas, can prove it—of adultery:
Nay, e'en the King himself beheld his shame.
This being so, by Egypt's sov'reign law
(From which your regal rank exempts you not)
The penalty is—to be stoned to death;
Which sentence, when these mournful rites are o'er,
Shall be inflicted at your palace-gates.

Nitoc.
(terrified).
My child!—my child!—who will protect my child?

Osmand.
(coming forward).
I will vouchsafe his weakness to protect,
And train him to obey my sovereign will.
In some low calling, if he's wisely rear'd,
He'll soon forget the glories of the past,
Too happy never to have known the name
Of the unhappy one that gave him birth.

Nitoc.
(with dignity).
Ye priests who doom me to this hideous death,—
Ye people, too, in whose hearts I have liv'd,—
(To Osmand. sarcastically)
And you, too, prince,—so gen'rous, so humane,
Who thus insult your victim at HIS grave,
Whose happiness you've murder'd like my own:
I should with resignation meet my doom
Did it affect but me—nay, hail the fate
That reunites me to my sainted lord,
From whom in life foul slander sever'd me.
But, if I die, my hapless boy will lose
His last support:—my life is not my own,
For I should live for him; so Heaven decrees,
Ye priests, in spite of your inhuman laws.
Yes;—and from you to Heaven do I appeal, (kneels.)

And to Pahiroth's God. O Thou in Heaven,
Oh! save me—save me from these murderers' fangs!

[Thunder heard.
Osmand.
Hark to Heaven's answer, Queen! The thunder's voice
Declares the justice of thy punishment.
As for Pahiroth (sneeringly)
—him, the vaunted seer,
He's dead ere now—seal'd in a living tomb.
[Great sensation.
(After a pause)
Yes, priests, I acted rightly to avenge
Our monarch and our priesthood both contemn'd
By this audacious Jew. Well, let his God
Deliver, if he can, both him and thee!—
But why spend time in list'ning to her plaints?
Come, priests, lead in the bier, the sacred boat;
The vessels, too, bring in, and all due rites
Fulfil. (To an attendant.)
Give me this torch—I'll light you on.

[Is proceeding to back to entrance of the tomb of the Kings, when
Enter Pahiroth, meeting Osmandyas at back.
Pahir.
(stretching out his arm).
Hold, scoffer, hold!

[Osmand. falls back aghast.
Nitoc.
Pahiroth here again!

Ch. Priest.
Stupendous mystery! What! here alive,
When you declared yourself—

Osmand.
(dismayed and terror-stricken).
No, people, no,
'Tis not Pahiroth, but some fiend—some ghost—
That has assumed his visage and his voice.
Avaunt, cursed demon—back to hell, thy home!

Pahir.
I'm neither fiend nor ghost, but sent (pointing upwards)
from Heaven!
Here—touch my hand, Osmandyas! Scoffer!
[Holds out his hand, but Osmand. shrinks, affrighted.
Why shrink from me? Dost think this hand of mine
Grasps the avenging angel's fiery sword;
Or seest thou thy doom writ in my eyes?

Osmand.
Help, priests; support your fainting King!
[They support him. Pause. He recovers.
(Looking around.)
Hophrah has played me false.

Pahir.
No; he was true,
And did thy bidding to the letter, prince.
To Heaven, not him, owe I my liberty.
Priests—people—listen: they seal'd up my tomb,
Intending that of hunger I should die;
But I had faith in Him who bursts the bonds
Of death; and when I pray'd He answer'd me—
Unseal'd my prison-door, and set me free.

A Soldier
(coming forward).
I was, O King! a witness of th' event.

Ch. Priest.
Oh, wondrous mysteries of Providence!

Osmand.
(aside).
Strange!—very strange! (Pause.)
No matter; I'll secure
By cunning, if I can't by force, the crown
That now is mine. (To Pahir. coaxingly.)
Come hither, worthy seer.
I've been deceived: I own I've done thee wrong,
And will in compensation for the ills
I've done thee raise thee to high dignity.
Come here, Pahiroth; come and share my throne.

Pahir.
Prince, the rewards I look for are not thine
To offer; earthly honours have no charms
For me; my aspirations higher mount—
To Heaven! For thee, unhappy prince, despair!
The grave yawns for thee; Rachel beckons thee—
Thy outraged, murder'd victim—to the tomb!

Ch. Priest.
Shall we allow these insults to our King? (angrily.)


Pahir.
False priest, behold the issue of your work!
While you profess to read the will of Heaven
Among the stars, and in the victim-beasts
Slain upon your altars, you cannot read
The human face. Your King, ye said, was dead;
As such you've mourn'd him, too; but look again!
[Goes up to the bier, and beckons the Priest to draw near.
Death has not laid his stamp upon his brow;
He yet is warm; he's buried in a trance!
(To the King.)
Awake, Rameses, be thyself again,
With all thy strength, thy reason as of old;
Rise, and declare Nitocris' innocence;
Acknowledge, too, the God thou hast denied!

[The King rises, first sitting, looks round, astonished, etc.
King
(awakening).
Where am I?

Nitoc.
(astonished, then overjoyed).
What! my husband! still alive!

King.
Who calls me? (looks round.)


Nitoc.
I—Nitocris—I, thy wife!
[Goes to the bier and kneels, embracing the King.
To see thee living brings life back to me.
Would it could bring my honour back as well!

King
(rising indignantly).
Thy honour, love! who dares to question it?
Who dares accuse thee. Come, tell me all at once.
But stay. (Pause.)
The truth is dawning on my soul,
And, one by one, the scatter'd particles
Are crowding on my shatter'd memory.
My jealousy has wrong'd thee, I confess:
But pardon me, and ope again thy arms.
I'll tell thee all:—A female slave, O Queen,
The victim of a villain's arts, had donn'd
Thy regal dress. (Seeing Osmand. starts.)
Ah! there the traitor stands!
[Osmandyas falls at his feet.
Inhuman monster! Move him from my sight,
And let the punishment that he design'd
For others be imposed on him—the wretch!
Drag him forthwith to the sepulchral cave
In which Pahiroth was imprison'd, there
To be confin'd until he pine to death.

[Osmandyas is led off.
Pahir.
Thy enemies, O King, are all destroy'd;—
Behold thy subjects kneeling at thy feet.

King.
Thy pardon, too, Pahiroth, would I claim.
My sov'reign pride has justly had a fall;
And Heaven, at whose decrees I basely scoff'd,
Has vindicated His almighty pow'r.

Nitoc.
His majesty and glory let us sound,
Priests, princes, people, all the nations round.