University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

Scene I.

—A desolate wilderness amid mountains overhung with gloomy woods.
ARIEL:
Ye elfine race! come forth—tis Ariel calls.
Come from yon crags, dank caves, and cheerless woods.
Not such your haunts ere jealous discord shook
The fairy throne—Ah! from that ill-starr'd hour,
Titania, my sweet mistress, and her Lord
Imperial Oberon, have never met,
Save, yearly, on this day, (so fate permits,)
To mourn their doom—Come forth! tis Ariel calls.
(Four groups of Fairies advance slowly to melancholy music.
Ah hapless exiles! grief has strangely dimm'd
Your roseate hue—in what ungenial haunt,
Your destin'd prison, while the year toil'd round,
Has echo murmur'd to your plaint of woe?

1st. FAIRY.
Thro' time untold where lurk'd the toad
Clos'd in the cold rock's central womb,
I drove him from his lone abode,
And there I pin'd in sunless gloom,
Doom'd o'er the dreams of bliss to weep,
When cradling lilies rock'd my sleep.

2nd FAIRY.
I crept beneath the thorny shade
Where snakes had cast their coily sloughs,
There, forc'd by fate, I wreath'd my braid
With berries pluck'd from night-shade boughs:
And as the rude weed swell'd my hand,
I sigh'd for flow'rs of fairy land—

3rd FAIRY.
From yon scath'd oak, at twilight grey,
When the horn'd owlet left her young,
I scar'd her moon-ey'd brood away,
As on their nest my limbs I flung:
And there I thought on fairy bow'rs,
And saddened o'er remembered hours.

4th FAIRY.
Where mortal thing might never breathe,
While loitering ice-drops, one by one,
Burst on the fretted flints beneath,
And turn'd each earthly form to stone,
I wept for fairy fountains clear,
And told each ice-drop with a tear.

CHORUS.
Now, foreboding woe to come,
Spirit, we dread to hear our doom—

1st FAIRY.
Ah when shall we revisit fairy land,
And those its pleasant seats, by brook, and fount,
Groves that wept balsam, and th'unfading bow'rs
Of laurel, lightning proof?—

ARIEL.
Ah! luckless Fays!
Here, in dire exile, with your Lords, oath-bound,
Long must ye droop in these ungenial shades
Where Oberon mourns, begirt with harts and hinds,
Foxes, and loathsome things, and beasts of the wild.
Forms human once, but by his touch transformed
To brutal. Such their nature, that forswore
Vows heard by heav'n, of love and wedded faith.
Thus they in shape of beast their penance work,
And bound with us, here wait alike their doom,
On man's frail race dependant—

FAIRY.
Gentle Ariel!
Is there no hope?

ARIEL.
None, till love crown a pair
Such as time ne'er has seen, this side the moon—

FAIRY.
How gifted?

ARIEL.
With pure faith that knows not change;
With constancy defying every proof,
Torture, and imminent death, and syren smiles
Of amorous blandishment. This wondrous pair,
Earth-born, alone can loose the solemn vow
That Oberon breath'd: no more, (till such be found)
To sport in fairy land, or on his throne
Replace his banish'd bride.
(Sylpha descends disguised like an African boy, bearing a magic mirror.
lo! Sylpha speeds
Before the wind. Say, Spirit, has success
Smil'd on thy service?

SYLPHA.
Such as o'erpast hope—
Take back th'enchanted mirror, precious proof
Of Oberon's trust in me—

ARIEL.
Relate what past,
That I, erewhile, may sooth the fairy king,
With gleam of dawning bliss—

SYLPHA.
I, as enjoyn'd,
In likeness of a slave of Afric's soil,
Went, where enthron'd mid Peers and Paladins,
Sat Charlemaine in proud imperial state.
It was a solemn feast-day, ushered in
With splendid pomp of tilt and tournament.
Young Huon's maiden lance had all unhors'd;
And his the envy'd prize: a scarf gold-purfled
Wrought by a royal virgin. At my entrance
The heralds' trumpets preluded the banquet—
I sounded my wreath'd conch, and all was still.
The knights around me throng'd—“behold” (I said)
“Brave Paladins! a maid, whose peerless charms
“Shall fire the pride and flower of Chivalry
“To deeds that trance the hearer”—at the word
I held the mirror up. There Rezia smil'd
Sweet as the moon that o'er the summer lake
Hangs gazing on her image—

ARIEL.
how look'd Huon?

SYLPHA.
Like one, whose every sense dissolved in bliss,
First thrills with love's delicious witchery—

ARIEL.
'Twas bravely done, sweet spirit—

SYLPHA.
“lo! (I said)
“The wonder of the east, proud Bagdad's heiress;
“Win, wed her, rescued from Horasbec's arms,
“The hateful Tartar king, her plighted Lord—
Swift at the mention of the Tartar king
Who slew young Huon's sire, “be mine (he cried)
“The perilous adventure”—on I steer'd
His course to Palestine: and lonely left him
A wearied stranger, near the woodman's cave—
SONG.

ARIEL.
Spirit! time speeds his flight, and ere again
The slope sun sinks his car in floods of gold,
The Tartar's nuptial kiss, if Huon fail,
Seals Rezia's death—haste to the woodman's cave.
By magic sights, and songs whose potency
Draws down the listning planets from their spheres,
Charm Huon forth—on him our doom depends.

SYLPHA.
'Tis done—I vanish from thy sight
On pinion that outstrips the light— (Flies away.)


ARIEL
(to the other Fairies.)
Ye! when the star of eve peers o'er yon cliff,
Here greet your sov'reigns—hence—away—away

(Exeunt Fairies.
SCENE changes to another part of the forest—on one side, amid the rocks, a cave illumined by a sparkling fire— Huon enters during a violent storm—
HUON.
'Tis pathless all—no trace of human foot.
Sure here at noon-day, mid such solitudes
The hoary woodman, tenant of the soil,
Trusts not his step. Ill shall it fare with me
An unknown wanderer mid these stranger wilds—
Thick drives the pitiless storm. Beneath this rock,
O'er which the Cedar spreads his branching arms
Boldly luxuriant, will I rest awhile
Till the dark clouds sweep by—ha! from yon cave
A light bursts forth with hospitable blaze—
This way it guides my step (goes to the cave)

—the up-pil'd heap
Burns cheerful, and the fire brisk-crackling, fann'd
By the keen gale, strikes jocund on the ear.
Methought I heard a voice

EUSTACE
(behind the scenes.)
Halt!

HUON.
Ha! what voice
Thunders thus fiercely?

EUSTACE
(entering.)
Halt!

HUON.
Say, who art thou,
Of savage semblance, mask'd in garb uncouth?
Thy rude exterior, whosoe'er thou art,
Marks thee no sojourner in haunts of men.
And if thy manners answer to thy garb,
Rude shall my welcome prove.

EUSTACE.
Oh native speech!
Sweet melody! for many a year unheard!
Oh let me hear once more the enchanting sound
That vibrates on my soul!

HUON.
Speak; who art thou,
That 'mid these rocks—

EUSTACE.
Sir, welcome to my cell!
Suspect me not: again I bid you welcome.—
Knight! follow me.

HUON.
Thy speech and garb agree not;
Thus rude, yet strangely courteous!

EUSTACE.
Trust me, sir,
This beard, that darkly bristles on my breast,
These skins of mountain beasts, thus coarsely patch'd,
That flap on my bare shanks, may hide a heart
Kind as the worshipper of courts, who glitters
In fashion's bravery—leave this outward cave—
The storm that bows the forest with its blast,
Rings thro' the crags, and from yon untrimm'd shoots
That dangle o'er the yawning arch above,
Thick drops the rain.

HUON,
Say, whither would'st thou lead me

EUSTACE.
Here, to my inner cave—these unknown rocks,
Gigantic columns rear'd by Nature's hand,
Lead to my palace. These pil'd trunks that blaze
Before its entrance, are the centinels
That from my haunt drive back the prowling beasts:
Whose nightly howl, familiar to these deserts,
Preludes my sleep. My garb I grant is rough;
Yet, Knight, suspect me not—lo! at your feet
I lay my knotted mace. Now, follow me,
And fear not.

HUON.
Fear! thou art a man—I fear not.
Take up thy club, and lead me where thou wilt.

(SCENE changes to the inner cave.
EUSTACE.
How like you, Sir, my palace, far more priz'd
By me than golden roofs. Here Peace resides.
All that I have is yours. Feed on this honey
Hiv'd by the mountain swarms in hollow oaks.
I know their summer flights in flowery glades,
Aye, and their wintery stations. Take these figs,
And these ripe dates—nay, freely take, my palm trees
Would never fail me, tho' a host of strangers
O'erflow'd my cave.

HUON.
Kind host! these savage fruits
Have exquisite flavor.

EUSTACE.
Cull my choicest grapes:
These, freshly pluck'd, these raisins dry'd in the sun;
Such vines, if by our Gascon peasants train'd,
And duly trodden out in jocund season,
Would gush with liquor that might rouse a dance
To fancy'd minstrels—all I have is yours,
Nor ask I in return ought but the sound
Of my lov'd native land.

HUON.
Yet more, my thanks:
And, if this gold—

EUSTACE.
Mines would not purchase you
The flint beneath your foot. Now lay you down
Before my hearth. Fir, larch, and unctuous pine
Gay-sparkling, breathe around delicious odors—
Smooth is this couch of reeds, with moss o'erstrown:
The wild flow'r, and crush'd thyme beneath you spread,
Shall pillow you on perfume.

HUON.
Courteous host,
My limbs require repose—

EUSTACE.
Yet, let me first
Unyoke this pond'rous harness from your back.
Tho' long unus'd, yet still I know to handle
These war accoutrements. So we unlink
These iron joints. There hang your breast-plate, here
Your greaves and shield. By heav'n! I little thought
That the old office thus had warm'd my blood:
But as I loos'd the braces of your helm,
The sound of the steel clasp, and plated thong
Rung a shrill note that rous'd a warrior's ear—

HUON.
A warrior's!

(Huon takes off his helmet.)
EUSTACE.
Heav'n! how like! yes, limb for limb.
Eye, forehead, mouth, and hair.

HUON.
Like whom?

EUSTACE.
Oh pardon!
A dream of better days, most sweet yet painful,
Forces these gushing tears. Say? what your name?

HUON.
Huon, the son of Segŵin, Duke of Guyenne.

EUSTACE.
My heart deceived me not. Oh welcome, welcome;
Son of my honor'd Lord—Youth, oft these hands
Have dandled you in childhood: I have humm'd
Old Gascon carols to your cradled sleep.
Forgive my freedom, Sir, joy must have vent:
And joy and I, aye, since my master perish'd,
Have still been strangers. Deign to look on Eustace.

HUON.
My father's trusty Squire!

EUSTACE.
I shar'd his woe,
When in lone pilgrimage on Syria's soil
Wild Arabs seiz'd us: I rush'd in to save him,
When, while the Christian Knight refus'd to bend
His knee at Mahmoud's name, Horasbec's dagger
Smote him unarm'd. Me back the Tartar sent
To spread the tale, and his defiance bear
To threaten'd Christendom. Since then, self-bound
In voluntary penance, mid these rocks
My lonely life has past. Adventurous youth!
What urg'd you to these wilds?

HUON.
I haste to Bagdad,
Avenger of my sire, to dare Horasbec
To mortal fight; and rescue from his arms
The Sultan's beauteous daughter. Guide my steps.
Huon is not ungrateful. But, my friend,
If age has ic'd the current of your blood,
Reckless I go.

EUSTACE.
You call me from the grave.
You fill me with new life. No other guide
But Eustace shall attend on Segŵin's son.
With you I live or die. (soft music heard.)


HUON.
Heard you the strain
That swells and dies away at intervals?
Methinks aerial minstrels wake the lute
With fairy touch, attun'd to sweeter sounds
Than Zephyr whispers o'er the vernal reeds.

SONG by an invisible Fairy—during the Song aerial figures of Huon and Rezia are seen. The Princess supplicating his aid.

(at the conclusion of the Song the magic visions vanish.)
HUON.
Spirit of air! lead on—be thou my guide!
Tho' death with lifted dart before me stood,
Huon would dauntless follow. lo! I come.

(Exeunt.