 | Adelgitha ; Or, The Fruits of A Single Error |  |
1
ACT I.
The Scene represents a Grove, with the Chapel and Shrine of St. Hilda. In the latter Lamps are burning, and the Doors are closed. In the back-ground is a Convent, situated on a Rock.—The Sun is rising.— Claudia is discovered leaning against a Pillar of the Shrine.CLAUDIA.
Hail, welcome morn! At length thy rising glories
Gleam on the convent-spires; and lo! yon lamps
With fainter rays illume the shrine's arched windows
Where Adelgitha watches.—Sure, if virtue
E'er found peculiar favour from high Heaven,
Her prayers are heard, and Guiscard lives and triumphs.
[A Bell tolls, and Nuns are seen descending the Rock.]
Hark! 'twas the convent-bell!—and see, the Abbess
To chaunt their matins in yon chapel leads
Her white-robed train.—Ah! Heaven-devoted sisters,
How wise that choice which from her pangs exempts you,
Who weeps away the night, and dreads at morning
To hear a son or husband lives no more!
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CLAUDIA
[kneeling].
Most honoured lady, at thy feet in duty
Suppliant I bend.
ABBESS.
May the Saint's blessing, daughter,
Aid thee to struggle 'gainst a sinful world,
And guide thy pilgrim-steps to grace and goodness.
[Claudia rises.]
Ha! wherefore burn those lamps?
CLAUDIA.
In yonder shrine
With prayer and penance has Apulia's princess
Past the long night, imploring Heaven, that morn
Might bring glad tidings of her lord in safety.
ABBESS.
Well may she rue that day when Michael-Ducas,
Byzantium's exiled emperor, sought these shores,
And sued at Guiscard's feet for aid and shelter.
His suit was granted; and perhaps ere this
That life, on which depends Apulia's welfare,
Has perished by some Grecian rebel's sword.
CLAUDIA.
And can such fears alarm St. Hilda's Abbess?
Doubts she of Heavenly love or Heavenly justice?
Has Virtue guardian angels? If she has,
Then guardian angels watch o'er Guiscard's safety!
ABBESS.
Against that virtue weigh the cause he fights for.
3
The cause he fights for is an exiled king's.
ABBESS.
Weigh too that exile's guilt, which lost him empire.
CLAUDIA.
He who that empire seized was guiltier far.
Erred Michael? still Alexius was his subject.
Wronged were the Greeks? still Michael was their king.
ABBESS.
What then, are subjects bound, and sovereigns free;
Free to be proud, vindictive, cruel, false....
In fine, to be what Michael was?
CLAUDIA.
No, mother;
But that which Michael was he is not now.
His power is crushed. Led by his weeping daughter,
Suppliant I saw him kneel at Guiscard's throne,
And none to Guiscard ever knelt in vain.
I feel like Guiscard; feel, that heart is marble,
Which heaves no sigh at sight of ruined greatness,
And hate that light, which only glares to show
Faults, which affliction's iron hand has chastened.
ABBESS.
Claudia, thy blame is just; I own my error;
And when reproof swells on my lips again,
I'll think—“he suffers!”—and reserve my censure
For those who sin, and prosper!—Means your princess
To join our matin rites?
4
She waits your coming.
ABBESS.
'Tis well— [going].
—Yet comes not Claudia?
CLAUDIA.
Straight I'll follow;
But lo! Byzantium's princess, beauteous Imma,
Bends to this shrine her steps—she droops her head!
Her blue eyes float in tears! Oh! chide not, mother,
If from your pious rites I steal some moments
To whisper comfort to yon royal mourner.
ABBESS.
Chide thee? Nay, Claudia, take my heart's best wishes
To aid thy gracious office. Well I know,
One tear wiped off excells whole years of penance;
And they serve Heaven the best, who succour man!
Now, sisters, to the chapel!—Farewell, daughter.
[Exeunt Abbess and Nuns into the Chapel.
CLAUDIA.
So sad?—I fear, I fear our un-owned youth....
Ah! why is virtuous love so rarely happy!
Enter Imma and Ladies.
Imma
[speaking to herself].
Still does he live? Sun, does he see thee still?
Or that pure blaze which fires the orient sky,
So bright to others.... is it dark to him?
'Twas here I saw him last! 'Twas here I bound
The scarf against his heart, and sighed, and wept,
5
Has he obeyed that charge? Oh! father, father,
Could'st thou but think like me, a straw-thatch'd cottage,
Lothair, and you would fill my heart's whole circle,
And then who would might wear Byzantium's crown.
CLAUDIA.
So early from thy couch, my Princess! Scarcely
Hath morning broke, and still with night-dews heavy
Droop the fair flowers.
IMMA.
Oh! such a night, my Claudia!
Such sights, such bloody glaives, such burning towns,
Such cries of widow'd wives and childless mothers,
Filled all my broken dreams, that from my couch
Trembling I sprang, and prayed to sleep no more!—
No news yet from Durazzo?
CLAUDIA.
Lady, none:
But soon......
Imma.
Oh! dread suspence! My father's throne,
Perhaps his life hangs on this battle's issue!
Perhaps ere long th' usurper's conquering gallies
Shall fright these coasts, and bid Apulia ransom
Its wealth and freedom with our forfeit heads!
Perhaps ere this our good, our glorious champion
Has signed in blood our ruin and his own;
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Will curse the day she pitied exiled Imma!
CLAUDIA
[artfully].
Perhaps Lothair too......
Imma
[catching the name with eagerness].
Aye! that good Lothair,
He, he! the gentlest, loveliest, bravest, best!
He, whose kind arm on the Adriatic waves
From pirates saved my life and dearer honour!
He, who when here we sued, and silent stood
The uncertain Normans, drew his sword the first,
And vow'd no more to sheathe it, till Alexius
Shed drops of blood for every tear of Imma's!
He too.... No! no!—It must not, shall not be!
Oh! ere the world shall lose that son of honour,
May I be sever'd from the worthless world!
Oh! ere I hear those words—“Lothair has perish'd!”
Come, friendly Death, and join me to Lothair!
CLAUDIA.
Lothair!—a foundling youth!—a nameless warrior!
And thou, Byzantium's princess?
IMMA.
Oh! I know it!
Know, that my passion's folly, ruin, madness!—
But still.... I love!—Here, here the blooming tyrant
Of gods and men has fixed his burning throne
In vain I strive to burst his roseate fetters;
E'en while I strive, I pause to kiss my chains!
In vain I pray at Reason's shrine for succour,
Since while I pray, I wish not to be heard!
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Thy deeds, Lothair, more noble than my birth,
Thy heart, Lothair, more precious than my treasures,
And one fond glance shot from thine eyes more brilliant
Than all the jewels in my father's crown!
CLAUDIA.
See, where that father comes!
IMMA.
He frowns! away then!
I dare not meet him now.
CLAUDIA.
What fear you, princess?
Those frowns are not for you.
IMMA.
Alas! alas!
When thus he frowns, he's ever fearful, Claudia.
He had a page.... no fairer, sweeter child
E'er blest a mother! Dear my father loved him;
Yet stung with sudden rage,—(oh! can I tell it?)—
He stabb'd him, stabb'd the innocent boy!—Oh! Heaven,
How painful 'tis to mark a parent's errors,
And not esteem, where duty bids us love!
He comes! Fly, Claudia, fly!
[Exeunt into the Chapel.
Enter Michael-Ducas, followed by Dercetus.
MICHAEL.
I'll hear no more!
8
Or from my slumbers rouzed, with Guiscard's praises?
The screech-owl's boding cry .. the approaching howl
Of famished wolves .. the chaunt of midnight witches..
Nay e'en my only child's expiring groan,
Were music to the praise of him I hate!
DERCETUS.
And wherefore hate him? Serves he not your cause?
Is't not for you, that now before Durazzo
His troops are leaguered, and his life expos'd?
Is't not for you....
MICHAEL.
Now be that hour for ever
Accurst, which saw the Emperor of Byzantium
Suppliant implore a Norman pirate's aid!
I was not born to ask, but to command;
My task was to confer, not sue for favours:
Yet now by Guiscard's aid, through Guiscard's bounty
'Tis given me to exist!—Oh! curses! curses!
I sink opprest by weight of obligations,
And each fresh service seems an added crime!
DERCETUS.
Yet in his eyes, whose interest they advance,
E'en crimes might well look fair.
MICHAEL.
No, no! were life
And empire at my choice, I'd rather plunge
9
To this new Cato's grace! this Norman Brutus!—
Viewed by his virtue's gaudy blaze, my errors
Show ten times darker.—But last night, Dercetus,
A ruffian, hot with wine, cried—“Lo! where goes
The pensioned emperor! Had he ruled like Guiscard,
He need not here exist on Guiscard's alms!”—
Gods! what strange patience must that man possess,
Who calmly listens to a rival's praises,
Nor loaths that glory which obscures his own!
DERCETUS
[aside].
The ungrateful tyrant chills my blood with horror!
MICHAEL.
What says't thou, slave?
DERCETUS.
If thus his sight afflicts you,
Soon come the hour when you shall meet no more!
MICHAEL.
That hour is past, if Phocion's sword be sharp.
DERCETUS.
Phocion?
MICHAEL.
That Persian slave who left Otranto,
(Three days since then are o'er,) conveyed to Phocion
My mandate, 'midst the battle's heat and tumult
To plunge his sword in Guiscard's heart.
DERCETUS
[shuddering].
Oh! Emperor!
10
Then will I seize my rival's falling sceptre,
Use it to strike Alexius from my throne,
And placing Adelgitha there, salute her
Queen of Byzantium and of Michael's heart.
DERCETUS.
Will she accept that heart?
MICHAEL.
She will!—She must!
DERCETUS.
What! she, the model of all wives, all women!
Whose passion for her lord.... On man ne'er doated
Woman, as doats on Guiscard Adelgitha.
Her love .. her virtue....
MICHAEL.
There's the charm, Dercetus!
I'm weary of Byzantium's easy conquests,
Of venal loves, cold hearts, and passive charms:
But oh! 'twere bliss to bend this stubborn beauty,
Crush the proud fabric of her idol, Honour,
And while she weeps to view its ruins, teach her,
She's fond, and frail, and false .. in short, a woman!
By Claudia's lips she charg'd me here attend her;
[The organ is heard.]
And hark! the organ speaks the matins o'er,
The doors unclose: She comes!—Retire, Dercetus.
[Exit Dercetus.
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ADELGITHA.
Chaste sisters, take my thanks! your holy comfort
Was balm to my torn heart: though sad, I'm tranquil,
Though chearful, I'm resigned; and now submissive
I'll meet Heaven's will, let Heaven or smile or frown.
Oh! thou whom sorrow bows and fears afflict,
Lo! your best refuge! At Religion's shrine
Kneel thou for grace, for strength, for resignation,
And ask that aid which none e'er asked in vain!
ABBESS.
Just is thy thought, and for the world 'twere well
Thought all like thee.—Now pardon, gracious Princess,
For convent duties call me hence.
ADELGITHA.
Dear mother,
Use your free will; your will is my best pleasure.
[Abbess and Nuns return to the Convent.
ADELGITHA
[to CLAUDIA].
Friend, join the train—Yon height o'erlooks the Bay;
Thence may'st thou first discern the bark, which brings me
Those tidings which I long, yet dread to hear.
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Oh! be that office mine!—With restless eye
I'll watch the waves; no, not a speck shall 'scape me:
And when at length I spy the wished-for sail,
So swift I'll speed, I'll make the zephyrs jealous
To find their wings out-stripped.
ADELGITHA.
My kind, sweet Imma!
IMMA
[kissing her hand].
My friend! my mother! Claudia come.
[Exit with Claudia.
Manent Adelgitha and Michael.
MICHAEL.
Now, Princess,
Obedient to your summons....
ADELGITHA.
We're alone,
And what I've now to say requires no witness.—
When driven by desperate rebels from Byzantium,
(I'll spare your ears what caused their fierce despair,)
Pursued and shunned, your head at price, and wandering
With one frail bark from coast to coast, 'twas here
You sought protection.
MICHAEL.
Say, 'twas here I found it.
ADELGITHA.
Our means were small; our court can boast no splendour;
But what was ours, we gave.
13
And gave it nobly;
Gave it with freedom, which endeared the gift.
ADELGITHA.
E'en at this hour, my lord beneath Durazzo
Sustains your cause.
MICHAEL.
He does.
ADELGITHA.
His wealth is lavished,
His blood is risqued for you.
MICHAEL.
I own his favours;
But wherefore....
ADELGITHA.
Still some chance neglect....
MICHAEL.
None, lady?
ADELGITHA.
Some former feud long past .. some fancied insult..
MICHAEL.
With neither can I charge him: if with both,
How light such faults must weigh against such merits!
My throne .. my life his gifts.... Sure if to man
E'er man owed gratitude, to him I owe it.
ADELGITHA.
Your gratitude?
14
'Tis his, and his of right:
None doubts it, sure!
ADELGITHA
[significantly].
None should.
MICHAEL
[haughtily.]
None dares.
ADELGITHA.
None does.—
Know you that scroll? [showing a letter.]
MICHAEL
[starting.]
Ha! faithless slave!—The letter
I sent to Phocion! [aside.]
ADELGITHA.
Robbers slew the bearer,
And 'midst his plunder was this writing found.
Straight to my hands 'twas given; for e'en those robbers,
Whose blood, if seized, had streamed by Guiscard's justice,
Rejoiced to save that precious life, which he,
For whom that life is risqued, would fain have taken!
MICHAEL.
Confusion!
ADELGITHA.
Here it stands, the ungrateful name!
Is't not thy hand .... thy seal?—And were these wanting,
Does not the inhuman business it enjoins
15
Canst thou deny....
MICHAEL.
My heart can bear no more,
And I must vent its rage, or die!—Yes, Princess;
Yes! 'twas my hand which trac'd that plan of death,
And from my soul I wish the murder done!
I hate thy Guiscard! hate him fiercely, deadly!
And wouldst thou know, what most excites my hate?
He's Adelgitha's husband.
ADELGITHA
[surprised].
How?—What cause ...
MICHAEL.
That too I'll answer! Hence, Disguise! Cold Prudence,
Spare thy vain warnings; all my soul's a storm,
And Passion's whirlwind drowns thy feeble voice.—
Princess, I love thee!
ADELGITHA
[starting; then, after a moment's pause, with contempt.]
Thou?
MICHAEL.
To frenzy love thee!
And with what strange, what fierce, what desperate passion,
Judge by this rash avowal! Those bright eyes ,
If I am guilty, lighted me to guilt!
They bade me murder Guiscard; they seduced me
16
They make me feel (those stars of Michael's fortune!)
Michael were wretched on Byzantium's throne,
Unless he shared that throne with Adelgitha!
ADELGITHA.
If I so long have listened to these insults,
'Tis that surprise and anger struck me dumb—
Thou rival Guiscard? Couldst thou hope, her love
Who shares that hero's, could e'er stoop to thee?
That hero, who misplaced in this bad world,
Seems meant to show mankind what man should be!
That hero, on whose iron virtue vainly
The serpent Slander wastes his poisonous teeth!
And could'st thou hope... thou only could'st, by thinking
My taste erroneous as thy heart is base.
MICHAEL
[choaking with rage].
How! how!
ADELGITHA.
He fights your wars! defends your cause!
Oh! brave!—You'd pay him with his wife's dishonour.
Alas! alas! like thee too many think,
Too many act; and in the eagle's absence
Rob, weazle-like, the eagle's nest.—Now, Heaven,
Reserve thy deadliest shafts for him, who seizes
The soldier's absence to corrupt his wife!
Then when the brave man hastens home, he finds
Domestic shame blush on his laurelled brow,
Sees the fair garden of his joys a desart,
17
Though living, dead to them!—Oh! shameful shameful!
MICHAEL.
You wrong me, Princess!—As my wife and empress,
Placed on Byzantium's throne....
ADELGITHA
[ironically].
Byzantium's throne?
Oh! fair and tempting gift! Oh! generous proffer!
Yet while you make it, 'twere as well, methinks,
Did you reflect, unless by Guiscard's valour
Byzantium's throne will not be yours to give.
Then pardon, mighty Prince, if I decline
These gracious offers; if I dare prefer
Glory with Guiscard to contempt with thee,
And think, that he who succours banished kings
Is nobler than a king, whom crimes have banished.
MICHAEL.
Proud woman, dar'st thou ...
ADELGITHA
[with a commanding air].
Hold! for Imma's sake
Two days I give thee to provide some refuge:
So long I'll hide thy fault from Guiscard's vengeance,
But on the third this scroll....
MICHAEL.
I thank you, Princess,
And for two days shall count my life secure,
Depending on a woman's silence!—Gods!
That I should err so grossly! I believed
18
At least that gratitude would seal your lips.
Oh! I could dash my front on earth, for trusting
To woman's gratitude, or woman's sense.
ADELGITHA
[calmly].
Thus ever rail their tongues at female judgement,
Who want that worth which merits female love.—
The good and wise more justly weigh our value,
Fly to our arms for sorrow's cure, reposing
Their cares on our kind breasts, and find no comfort
Like hers, who joins the mistress, friend, and wife.—
But thou, (ne'er seeking love, content with pleasure,
Curst with indulgence of each vain caprice,
Suspecting treason e'en on beauty's bosom,
And tasting poison in each honied kiss,)
Mayst thou still think all women false and light,
Incapable of faith, unfit for trust,
And born to be man's slave, not man's companion.
Such may they think us still, who act like thee;
I cannot wish them worse than such to think us!
IMMA
[without].
Speed, Princess, speed!
ADELGITHA.
Hark! Imma comes.
Enter IMMA.
IMMA.
Oh! speed!
Swift cuts a bark the billows, and the shores
Groan with the throng of anxious citizens.
Shall we not hasten....
19
On before, sweet maid!
I'll follow straight.
[Exit Imma.
ADELGITHA
[in a decided tone].
Forget not what I've said,
Nor brave the lightnings of my hero's eye!
Two rules are Guiscard's; ne'er to sin himself,
And ne'er to pardon others, when they sin:
Then dread to meet his wrath, be timely prudent,
Fly with thy shameful secret, fly and live.
Farewell.— [Going.]
MICHAEL.
And thou who speak'st so stern and high,
Know'st thou not, there's on earth no hate so deadly
As hate, which finds its source in slighted love?
Dost thou not fear that....
ADELGITHA.
I fear thee? Oh! no!
Salerno's daughter was not born to fear!
MICHAEL.
Salerno's daughter? [starting.]
ADELGITHA.
Aye! that name, it seems,
Has reached your hearing? Then I need not add,
Dishonour and that name have still been strangers.
And she, whose veins can boast that hero's blood,
And she, whose heart retains that hero's lessons,
Rest thou assured, thinks nothing bright but virtue,
And nothing dreadful but deserved disgrace!
[Exit.
MICHAEL.
Salerno's daughter? Should it be.... Dercetus!
20
DERCETUS.
My Prince!
MICHAEL.
Those letters, which the dying Norman
Gave to thy care in Astra's wood .. thou hast them?
DERCETUS.
The portrait too....
MICHAEL.
A portrait?—Find it straight,
And bring it to my chamber—Speed, Dercetus!
[Exit Dercetus.
MICHAEL
[alone].
Each fresh reflection gives my hopes fresh vigour,
And if those hopes prove just, the game's my own.
Compelled to silence.... suppliant for my mercy..
My rival dead.. But how?—That young Lothair..
'Tis plain, his heart is Imma's!—Could I win him..
Why doubt it? May not all be won? and has not
Each man his price, for those who choose to pay it?
When offers fail, virtue's not strong .. but dear;
And that stern Honour, which disdains a dukedom,
A sceptre shown, will bow and take the bribe.
[Exit.
END OF THE FIRST ACT.
| Adelgitha ; Or, The Fruits of A Single Error | |