 | The Crown Jewel |  |
ACT. V.
Scene 1.
State Apartment in the Palace. Present in the back-ground, the King, Prince Amored, Count Vicente, nobles, courtiers, ladies, &c. Ladies Meranie and Ella in front, the former wearing the Crown Jewel in her coronet. [Gonseres masked passes and repasses.]Ella.
Dear sister! thou outshin'st thyself to-night;
Well may Vicente prize thee!—The King's gift
(So he regards this marvellous diamond,)
Not thee sets off, but the occasion gives
For its own setting off. I can divine
Wavering thoughts betwixt it and the wearer;
But those who give the nobler preference
Are men of tact and scholarly attainments—
Fine natures which are diamond mines themselves
And can appraise by instinct.
Mer.
How you flatter!
And how unlike you, Ella! 'Tis well meant,
I know it; but the love is thrown away
That would beseech me bravely to confront
The stare of fops and rude inquisitors.
To my dear husband I have sworn all honour,
And at his wish, held a command by me,
Parade this costly but ambiguous gem.
As I have told you, sister, such parade
Of strange forebodings is the stirrer up.
Now, at this moment, or I am deceived,
We are the special target of discourse.
This knot of men and that are eyeing us,
And an impertinent with swaggering stride
That rips up memories of no pleasant sort,
Scanning me narrowly, hath passed and re-passed.
Again he makes approach, as if with purpose
T'accost us, but hath taken better thought;
Yet I like not his bearing nor his looks.
[Gonseres passes.
Ella.
Dear Meranie! take courage, be yourself;
My brother's mouthpiece for the nonce esteem me
T'instruct you in the customs of the court.
Put the bright eye that you are gifted with
To usage, and your queenly presence make
Proud telling of; so, you will fend and frown
These idlers off. His Majesty approaches,
And with him Count Vicente.
(Come forward King and Count Vicente.)
King.
A sweet greeting, ladies!
Flowers of our court, the fairest of its flowers,
Whose fragrance scatters its delights around
And beauty fascinates so, I would not marvel
Did the romantic age of chivalry
Take root again! The favour of your smiles
Would tempt into the field of tournament
A hundred pennons.
Mer.
We are proud to accept
This meed of praise from our loved sovereign—
Prouder his worth and virtues to applaud
And throne and realm alike congratulate
Upon the new accession to their strength,
In the illustrious person of the Prince.
King.
Your gratulations we accept with thanks,
Dear ladies! The paternal heart is full.
Prince Amored but occupies his part,
And our Queen hers. The rest our subjects hold
Filial possession of, and I, their sire,
To-day, occasion take to introduce
A gentle brother to their love and duty.
But here he comes, will tender for himself
His recognition of your high regard.
(Come forward Prince and nobles.)
My duty to you, ladies! Ah! I fear
I am too late upon the field of favour.
Our royal father hath stept in before us.
King.
Adjudge betwixt us, my dear Lord Vicente!
This scape-grace will refuse us privilege
To ope our eyes in admiration—
Our lips in eulogy of woman-kind.
These gallants must have all the charms of life
Made over to themselves, and look on us,
As past our day, worn out and obsolete—
Sated, choked off, and unappreciative.
Is it not so, young reprobate?
Prince.
Nay! father!
You doat too much on me to make th'impression
That you are earnest in your bantering.
To-day, in presence of these noble ladies,
Our court in pride and pomp encircling us,
You have invited me, now come of age,
To share with you the labours of the throne;
Thrust on me are this honour and its cares,
But to accept them on their selves account,
Without a counterbalance of delights,
Is not in nature.
King.
Amored, dear son,
Your bent is serious, and our mis-timed jest
Provokes you to a mood that ill accords
With this occasion of festivity.—
How happens it, now, that we think upon't
The Lord Soartes hath not kept his faith?
To say the least, 'tis unaccountable,
Our charge was strict. A guard of honour too
Assigned, and all made ready to his hand!
(Enter messenger, delivers a despatch to the King; which having glanced at, he proceeds).
Ha! treason—yet
Impossible! on the grave's brink, a traitor!
This fatal bauble works out prophecy
And implicates the credit of our throne.
So tried a servant as Soartes was
Committed to so grave a confidence,
To have done this! Witness, my noble lords,
Here is the accusation. “Lord Soartes,
Custodier of the State Regalia,
Hath fled the realm. The Jewel Room is vacant.”
Courtier.
Hoary old hypocrite! The mask has fallen
At last, and to our comprehension made
Clear and right manifest, this sudden turn
From abject meaness and a pauper's hearth
To insolence and prodigality—
King.
Hold! spare him, Messieurs! It is premature,
Before the trial, to let fall the axe.
As well as to the tempted, to the tempter
Not sounding him nor taking true account
Of his embarrassments and the decline
Of trust wrought in the nature of the man.
To us, so far as we can bring to mind,
He ever was all love and loyalty,
And being our senior, and ta'en counsel of,
During our madcap days, this ingrate act
We are disposed to deal with leniently.
What say you, Lord Vicente?
But we forget—Your Countess is his niece;
This is a sore we may not tread upon,
Forgive us, Lady Meranie! The charge
Against your uncle, we would fain believe,
By some intriguer has been bolster'd up.
Prince Amored, now our right hand, must decide.
His fitness to divide our cares with us
Is put to early trial, we confess.
Say, shall we hold in credit a despatch
All so improbable, because so grave
And out of keeping with the common run
Of State delinquencies?
Prince.
To my wit's end
You put me, sire. 'Tis an emergency
Calls for the breaking up of these rejoicings
And instant summoning of our Cabinet.
[Gonseres rushes forward.
Gon.
Hold, hold, my liege!—
Prince.
Unmask thee! Who art thou
That thrust'st thyself at this unwelcome time
Into the royal presence? Quick, unmask,
And speak thine errand with an open face.
Too much of vague and needless mystery
Rests on this ugly business.
[Gonseres throws off his mask.
King.
(aside.)
By heaven!
It is Soartes' self grown young again,
Or else this treason fastening on our mind
Moulds a resemblance to him. [(aloud)
—Tell at once
The purpose of your bold intrusion, sirrah!
That you have tidings to communicate,
Touching upon the matter of our trouble,
We have suspicion. Speak, nor let your eye
Rest rudely on the flowers of our court.
Fix it on us. Your sovereign demands
His rightful dues.
Gonseres
(kneeling.)
It is to render these,
Sire, I am here. My loyalty has brought me.
Lay to the urgency of the occasion
All breach of etiquette.
King.
You try our patience.
Rise! We dispense with this formality;
Blurt out thy say.—Truth neither halts nor stammers.
Gon.
No words are requisite. I make no charge.
The charge is written where the eye may read it.
Look round—regard these flowers of your court,
Which of them all have you so dignified
Beyond its peers—so royally endowed
With token of your favour?—
Prince.
Silence! churl—
King.
Nay, Amored, keep your impatience down—
We have a sore misgiving troubling us
Of some great wrong committed to our hurt,
By hand of other traitor than Soartes.
Gon.
You do me justice, Sire! To insinuate
Our King hath overlooked his loving mate,
Begrudging her the privilege to wear
The offsets to her crown, with the intent
A wanton should supplant her,—my life on't!
I meant it not.
This man's effrontery
My royal father! drives beyond all bounds.
To what next point, will his traducing tongue
And insolent demeanor carry him?
He must be looked to. Call the guard—
King.
Stay, Amored!
There is a fancy—may God grant it is
None other than an idle, passing fancy!
Which the direction of the fellow's eye
And that which it is fixed on, summon up.
It grows upon us, fascinates or else
Befools our gaze with its similitude.
Oh! curst of all things curst, and curst the more,
That here and now, and on so fair a forehead,
This Jewel shews—this baleful diamond!
By what untoward fate were we compelled?
What malign devil tempted us to move
In its release and re-ascendancy?
Than our own selves, Soartes has less blame—
Is less conspirator 'gainst public weal.—
But we distress you and your gentle Countess
My Lord Vicente!
(In the excitement occasioned, Lady Meranie has thrown herself into the arms of her husband.)
Vicente
(supporting her.)
Keep heart, dear Meranie!
Oh! my honoured liege!
(To the King.)
How shall I speak my thanks for your indulgence!
A doubt against our love and loyalty,
In the kind bosom of our sovereign,
No wound could wound so deeply! Pardon me,
That with this strong suspicion bearing on us,
I arrogate the part of an adviser—
Do more, take higher ground, insist, demand
That our good King shall justify his office.—
The taint of Treason menaces my House,
The treasure of my bosom and my honour.
T'unrivet the foul charge, high heav'n will help me;
But while it holds, the duty of the State
And duty to myself are cast together.
I ask commitment and an early trial,
So justice may be done before my peers,
And what strong exculpation and defence
I have to offer, may engage the ear
And apprehension of impartial judges.
King.
Dear Lord Vicente, in my inmost heart
You live acquitted—
Vic.
Ah! my sovereign,
Your heart prejudges. I require its love,
Knowing my innocence, and thank you proudly.
Yet greedy honour is not satisfied,
I must have full acquittal of all men,
Not myself only am inculpated,
But this dear sufferer. Ella, my protection
Must for the moment find its substitute
[Transferring Ladye Meranie to the arms of Lady Ella.
How fatal the mistake
That held as bridal gift from royalty
This inauspicious stone and urged it on thee,
My countess! as a mark of kingly honour;
Construing the strange medium which conveyed it,
Into an artifice to stave our thanks off.
Permit me to unclasp it from your brow
And, through the hands of this attendant lord,
Restore it to our gracious sovereign.
[Disengages the diamond and places it in the hands of a lord in waiting.
Mer.
You remove mountains with it, dear Vicente.
The suing for this trial makes me brave
And eager to be partner in its issues,
Knowing our innocence and thy devotion.
I thank you from the loyalest of hearts
My King and Prince! for this accorded grace.
King.
Dear lady! our suspicion of some plot
Lapp'd with a plot more subtle and blood-thirsty,
Ripens into conviction. But 'tis best
No hasty off-hand judgment to declare
Which may occasion give to idle rumours
And strengthen falsehood in the accuser's hands.
We therefore waive our royal privilege,
And to the prudent senators of justice
Forming the high Tribunal of our realm,
Commit the cause. To-morrow we appoint
Whereon to hold the diet.
Prince.
Noble sire!
To retard justice reck me least inclined;
But is it not essential for its ends,
That of the Lord Soartes who took lead
In this high crime, some tidings should be gained?
Dead or alive, it rests with his production,
Upon the complex bearings of the plot
To throw the desired light. Ten thousand crowns
We offer as award to him who brings
This black offender against God and grace,
Against his King, his order and his oath,
Within the reach of punishment condign.
King.
Dear Amored! that he on whom we leant
As counsellor, and loved, should so be spoken of,
Makes life and the enjoyment of the throne
Desolate things on which to ruminate.
This treason and apostacy unman us
When we take count of our old fellowship.
Nevertheless, we give authority
To arrest the man, with powers to wound or slay,
Should he resist, and on his head set price;
Ten thousand crowns—well! be it so. If taken
Alive and proven the traitor double-dyed,
Which you suspect, we shall have help from Heaven
To sign the warrant of his execution.
I crave the King's indulgence—
Prince.
Sire, permit me;—
The royal ear may not be vexed at pleasure;
Nor may the insult offered to our court
By mouth of this bravado be repeated.
As an accuser, he has laid his charge;
Of his pretensions and the whence he came,
By whose connivance, he obtained admittance
Into the Palace—these are matters which
Demand strict sifting in their time and place.
If I have done him wrong by the suspicions
Which his fierce bearing and insulting speech,—
Not least, the nature of this dark impeachment,
Have stirred up in us, by my knightly oath!
He shall have reparation, though I kneel to him,
Meanwhile, ho! guard! look well to this man's warding:
See, that he is entreated like a guest
Before the reckoning comes.
[Guard enters. Gonseres is led out.
Let us appoint
A nine days grace, my venerable sire,
Rather than rush to judgment unadvised.
King.
You have our high approval, Amored.
Ladies and noble senators, forgive me!
This wildering turn of things hath brought to halt
Our festival. May God go with you all!
When next we meet, a more auspicious star
Be in th'ascendant! and the fatal stone,
So long disastrous to our ancient throne,
This ordeal pass'd, may it the amulet prove
Of Peace and Plenty, Loyalty and Love.
[Exeunt omnes, King excepted.
To this strange falling out, there more pertains
Than we can grapple with. The darker plot
At work for private ends, high treason turns
To ridicule and a subservient thing—
A means wherewith to compass fouler crime.
Of Lord Vicente and his gentle bride,
Their innocence hath grown into conviction,
But to establish it before the world,
In face of what stern Justice may contend
Is proof unanswerable,—this is the point
Tender'st to deal with. To be taken red-handed
And in the act, is held to justify
Summary execution, and on this
Catch, the accuser hungers to make good
His charge against the loyalest of our subjects;
Nor is it in the province of the Crown
To espouse the pannel's cause. In higher hands,
We leave the upshot.
[A noise of wrangling outside the Palace.
There is some disturbance
Holds at the postern gate. It is not wont
To be so; and at this untimely hour?
What can it mean? When one thing goes distraught
All others follow—such our hapless lot.
[Exit King.
Scene 2.
Entrance to a Cave in the Forest. Midnight. A fire blazing in front. (Inora—alone.)Inora.
Before we are ourselves—can think or act,
Our pride of beauty and of youth is over;
The days are gone we hoped to turn to vantage,
To win strong worship in and make ourselves
Helpmates to what was worthy of apprising
--- More generous is man
Toward the sex's frailties than woman.
To be considerate and merciful
Comes of a nobler nature—larger heart
And ampler brain. Oh! wretched, raving fool!
To reason so against my better knowledge.
Why is this serpent coiled about my heart?
Why was I coaxed into its slimy folds?
What was there tempting in the tempter's voice?
Life is a lie—a lie from dawn to dark'ning.
A lie once spoken fathers endless lies.
The devil knows it and that spark from hell
Which man's tongue is the apt conductor of
Widens and populates his fell dominion.
Who is this
Invades my solitude—comes to consult
Me, witch reputed, at this far-gone hour?
(Enter Soartes.)
Thou!—in one sense least welcome—least expected,
But to my humour, ready, ready, ready.
Ay! in the nick of time, thou shew'st thyself.
Soartes! 'twas but yesterday I saw thee
Riding in state, companion of the King
To this shift hast thou come—dissembler! speak!
Fugitive, coward, fellow-traitor, speak!
What brings the serpent to the tiger's den?
Soartes.
Inora! my Inora! only mine!
Hide—save me from the axe!
Inora.
By this I save you!
[Stabbing him with a poignard. Soartes dies.
We are quits at last. No executioner
Could do his work with such a willing heart.
I'll neither pray nor ask absolvitur
For the great deed of justice I have done.
The need for expiation which must follow
The self-same instrument shall satisfy,
The King must be a witness.
[Exit.
Scene 3.
[A postern gate communicating with the palace.[Curtain rising discovers a sentinel on duty.
(Enter Inora.)
Sen.
Hillo! mistress, what want you?
Inora.
An audience with the King.
Sen.
Nay, back, good woman, back!
Inora.
I must have audience.
Sen.
Musts don't pass muster here. Back, back, I say.
[raises his weapon.
Inora.
And you a soldier! Let me pass, poltroon!
Thou dar'st lift hand to woman—darest thou?
Unmanly fellow!
Sen.
I am on duty here, old petticoat! off it, the lady's-man
to any harridan. Amorous José, they call me, my
camarades at the Jollity; and I have bussed as wrinkled
a wench as thyself many a time; marry! and incline to
do so yet, when nothing fresher is in the way—but hold,
good woman, back!
[The postern gate opens. Enter the King.
King.
What means this altercation?
Inora.
I crave audience of the King.
King.
I am the King. Speak out complaint to me.
What is thy grievance, woman?
Inora.
None, my liege!
The boon I seek is of a different sort;
Justice and mercy are bound up with it.
A sacrifice to Justice has been done
On which the eye of day is opening.
'Tis not enough. I am not satisfied.
King.
You have a tale to tell, or I misjudge
Your bearing and the impatience of your eyes.
Soldier! hold back. I have no fear of her.
Speak, woman! I am father to my people.
Inora.
Did I not know it, heart and tongue had failed me;
Yet rather than the gracious King thou art
To deal with, I had tiger in King's shape
Topp'd with a crown the fires of hell had forged.
It were more fitting at its throne's red foot
To lay my cause than to engage thine ear
Too merciful! with story of great wrongs.
Not suing I come here, as suers do,
That have some sorry grievance to relate;
Nor come I, with a mendicant's design,
To probe the fountains of thy royal bounty.
The favour I am set on is a greater,
Because 'tis to the righting of our King
It appertains, and what I crave of him
Is solemn witness to the deed and purpose.
King.
There is some craze at work. Stay, Sentinel!
I've taken to study diosyncrasies.
The woman would set right an injury
Imagined to be done me. I incline
To humour her. Shew me this document,
That I may give it fitting attestation.
Inora.
An injury imagined to be done?
I crazed! No, sire! the hurt is hurled at me,
And from my monarch's mouth! Dear Sovereign!
Recal the taunt. This is no time to jest,
King.
Too true! forgive me! Sentinel, stand back;
I, of a verity, am so bewildered
By what hath chanced within the palace gates.
Outside of them, I am outside myself.
The woman is in earnest. Something more
In shape of evil hath befallen us.
But tell the worst, abate no jot of it—
Our ear is greedy of calamity—
So used to it, that tidings the reverse
Might more offend than flatter it.
Inora.
Bear with me,
Sire! my appeal would but affront the ear,
Did I direct it to that point of trust
So oft abused and made the willing throat
Through which descend those lies and calumnies
The tongue in making resurrection of
Converts to hideous and appaling shapes
Whose very unreality is real,
Nor priest can lay them nor the sorceror's art.
I have a spectacle to shew thee, Sire!
Will more convince than my unpractised tongue—
If thou put'st faith in me—but why require it?
Distrust is likelier to cap my aim
Of restitution and a fit atonement;
For I have wronged thee, gracious Sovereign!
Unwittingly, unwisely, past forgiveness.
My guilty love—the ardour of that love
And his necessities on whose false heart
It was exhausted, tempted to the crime.
Baser than treason, (for high-treasons oft
Run clear of baseness) whose enormity
Makes muttering of danger through the realm.
King.
Now I have found the clue to thy request.
I am in earnest to pursue its windings
Thy look of desolation and despair
Wins on me to put faith upon this craving,
And makes it duty to look well to it
No harm shall happen.
Inora.
It were best to be
Armed against accident. May I entreat
Th'assignment of a guard of soldiers,
Such as occasions of solemnity
Make fitting and expedient. To attest
This deed and its involvings will require
A host of witnesses, so I may prove
To the discredit of my misplaced love
My duty and restored allegiance,
And for my crime make amplest reparation.
King.
Of the ten million hearts attached to us,
Thine, in its quest, has, more than all the others,
Brought into play our curiosity.
Its wishes shall be humoured. Sentinel!—
But nay! To quit thy post were breach of duty;
Attend this woman. Of her sanity
Misgivings we have none. But what her purpose?
The dark surrounds it. We shall go ourselves
And choose our escort in this enterprise.
The Prince, mayhap, will bear us company.
See to thy charge, we shall be back anon.
[King exit.
Thou hast got into the King's good graces, mistress;
make shift, an thou art wise, not to fall out o'
them. Our good monarch is of tender ear, and easily
practised on, in that quarter. The sex is his failing as
'tis mine; when off duty, mind you, only? I am puzzled
about thee and this persuading of him. There is something
amiss lies under it; and now that the cock hath
crowed and the sun is on the start, if these be not blood-spurts
on thy wrist-bands, my eye is at fault.
[Re-enter King, attended by Prince Amored, lords and body guard.
King.
We have been fortunate in chancing on you,
Before the entrance to our State-apartments
Thrown open for admittance to the fete
Was barred on the retiring of our guests.
Here is the woman we advised you of:
Herself besought this escort. We are curious
To sift the matter. Her comportment speaks
To some strange happ'ning that concerns ourselves.
What, say you?—Amored, and you, my lords?
This is no hoax played on us?
Prince.
Sire, I share
Your apprehension. If a hoax it be,
There's nothing farcical mixed up with it:
A tragedy hath been enacted somewhere;
What means this soiling of the woman's sleeve?
Inora.
You shall have full and just account of it.
Too soon! These bloody marks that take your gaze,
Haply, the thicket and its cruel thorns
Encountered in my hurry may have say
In their devising; but it daunts me not
The likelier surmise flashing through my brain.
Such jewell'd bracelet on my sleeve to wear
Before my injured Sovereign and the Prince
Becomes the high occasion.
King.
Lead the way,
Good woman! and this mystery resolve;
We are impatient.
Inora.
Patience makes impatient,
Put faith in me. The travel is not far;
Three miles from hence, and by the forest track;
But what that distance to tried soldiers,
To me, a woman, it is but a step.
[Exeunt omnes, but Sentinel. Scene closes.
Scene 4.
Entrance to a cave in the forest. Curtain rising discovers the body of Lord Soartes with a poignard sticking in his heart; also a huge raven perched upon the corpse in the act of picking out one of the eyes. The bird is diverted from its purpose by the sound of approaching footsteps.[Enter Inora, King, Prince, nobles, ranger, and soldiers.
Raven.
Croak! croak! croak.
Prince.
The prophet fed, in day of dole, by ravens,
Excuse had to regard their utterances
With ravished ear. On ours, these dismal notes
Grate harshly and the revelation bode
Of horrors close at hand. The evil bird
Whose marvellous instinct leads from haunt remote
In mountain gorge or facings of the sea,
To scenes of blood and rapine, has taken flight.
List to the ghostly flapping of its wings!
But to our pilot through this under-wood
And mazings of the forest, we are bound
To give implicitly our confidence,
Here is our point of halt, or I mistake
Her gestures?
Inora.
King, Prince, and Nobles! witnesses be you
To my confession and this spectacle!
There lies the Lord Soartes slain by me—
Slain by the hand that would have helped him back
To fortune's favour and to men's esteem.
My love for him and constancy concealed
His execrable points and gilded o'er
His vices so, I grew enamour'd of them—
Hugged them as virtues—shaped a paragon
Out of their grossness, made him my heart's idol.
Oh, Gracious King! from such misguided faith,
Crop up whole harvests of calamity;
Treasons and wrongs, the accidents of war,—
A hundred growths entailing bitter fruits
Come of this cause and simple origin.
The wrong done thee, from no more lofty source
Drew its gigantic and abhorrent shape;
See there! a measure of the Expiation!
[points to the body of Soartes.
To have been prompter to this treachery
Thou hast confessed thyself. Thy plea advanced
Before Heaven's high tribunal may avail,
Where angels are enrolled as witnesses,
And every sore tentation to the crime
Is taken account of. Its acceptance, here,
Our straighten'd apprehensions bar the way to.
On such lame score to justify thyself,
In face of stubborn and resistless facts,
Before the most indulgent of our judges,
Hold it impossible! Thy doom is sure,
Taking this crime alone into account
But doubly sure, when murder mates with Treason.
Inora.
Thy sentence, King, all trial interdicts.
King.
Nay, woman! Justice in our ancient realm
Shall have its method and solemnities.
Trial awaits thee in its usual form;
And now thou know'st the doom o'erhanging thee,
And hast considered of it—art thyself
Against thyself the accuser and the witness—
If thou hold'st hopes of mercy from thy God
(For not a remnant of forgiving grace
Is left thee here), make clear thy conscience
Answer me straightly, woman, on these hopes.
Much rests upon the droppings from thy tongue
Of high importance to ourselves and lieges,
And to yourself of consequence. Reflect.
Among our usages the Rack and Question
Are still in vogue! Therefore, we urge it on you,
Be plain in your replies, direct and truthful,
Prevaricating none, concealing nothing.
Inora.
My being self-accuser and informer—
A traitress to the treason I had plann'd—
A murderess who glories in her crime;
No marvel, Sire, such aggregate of guilt
Bearing with violence on thy tender heart
Should so convulse and overset its nature.
Mistake me not, my honoured sovereign!
These menaces of torture from your lips
Move but to higher holdings of respect.
I ask no grace—no mercy at your hands
No commutation or delay of sentence.
Of pardon and release from punishment
In its most cruel and revolting shape,
I cherish not one solitary hope.
But put thy questioning to me. I am here
To expiate my self-acknowledged crimes,
Willing, too willing! Into strong desire
And purpose to unbosom all I know
Of this conspiracy, my willingness
Hath mounted and awaits your royal pleasure.
King.
What we would know of thee (Prince Amored
These nobles and our guard of soldiers
Attesting to thy shrift) concerns ourselves
Less than the loyal bearing of a subject.
Thy thoughts are with Soartes. Put aside
The hoary traitor. 'Tis not carrion
Like that we would refer to, but a man
Of highest value in all men's esteem;
And mated with him is a noble lady
And victim, brought to verge of poverty.
Answer me plainly of the Lord Vicente,
And of his Countess, Lady Meranie—
What part they played in this conspiracy?
Inora.
An accusation lying at the doors
Of this sweet lady and her noble husband
So foul, so devilish! King! believe it not.
None but that caitiff whom my hands have slain,
And whom the dark experience of a life-time,
Taught me too late, was schooled in villany
Up to his passing graduate in its arts,—
Adept the more that he was plausible,
None but this miscreant could have mouthed or penned
Such an aspersion!
King.
Note the womans' words—
The verity which, in this hour of trial,
Dwells in her face—the angel overcoming,
Not without struggle, its opposing devil!
Our fond anticipations are encouraged
But we have question more to put to thee;
Nor will the doubt which intercepts our faith
Rest satisfied until thou answer'st truly.
Confederates in the seizure of our jewels
Ye must have had—thou and thy paramour;
We know you as the back-ground of the plot,
For upon that score, you are self-confessed;
But that another—others shall we say?
Took forward and especial part in it,
It needs no stretch of ingenuity
To go beyond suspicion of.
Now, that we've studied and avized thee closely,
A face crops us, so much resembling thine
And that dead traitor's blended into thine,
It could be sworn to, as the consequence
Of your illicit loves. The when and where
That face confronted us, how strange it is
That only at this instant we recal them!
And yet three hours at most have not elapsed
Since the disturbance at our palace revels.
Say, Amored, are we deceived and does
This woman's visage practise on our senses?
Prince.
Nay, royal father! thou hast hit the truth,
And cleared off hesitation from my mind.
The self-same fancy has been troubling it,
All through the mazes of this strange confession,
To safe conclusion we arrive together.
The insolent, who at our festival
Obtruded with impeachment on his lips
And foul aspersions, was this woman's son,
Confederate and chief actor in the plot.
'Tis fortunate we hold him in arrest,
But see to her! Her eye is fixed on us!
Inora.
A calumny! Unsay it. Prince, unsay it!
High aspirations were his mother's curse
And a misplaced affection. What befel her,
Your eyes and ears bear woful witness to;
But all the climbings of my heart and soul
Were grovellings in the mire compared to his.
That he had high hand in that business
Regarding the regalia I confess to,
But that he moved in't for ulterior purpose,
Oh, God! the thought makes doubly desolate!
Of all abandoned women, I the most!
Even in this hour of expiation,
I held Gonseres the appointed means
Whereby to vindicate my outraged honour—
O, soaring offspring of a soaring mother!
Vulture from vulture bred! is this the close,
Of all our grasping ventures?
[Rushes to the body of Soartes and detaches the poignard.
Take in charge
That woman, guards!
Inora.
Keep off one moment, dogs!
'Twill save the costs of trial and the headsman.
Heart's blood to heart's blood let them so commingle.
[stabs herself.
That whether heav'n or hell be our award,
No matter! there is marriage now betwixt us.
[dies.
Prince.
A woman valorous and resolute,
More sinned against than sinning!
King.
Soldiers!
Your swords and axes hurry into play,
Make tressels of these timbers. Here, at hand,
Are prunings of an oak, the hurricane
Or fiery thunderbolt hath been at work on.
Shape them to hand-spokes of convenient length,
On which to rest these bodies. Yonder stands
A cypress whose funereal plumes wrenched off
Will form a ready and appropriate pall;
Heap them on thickly, so no passer by
May of your ghastly burden catch a glimpse.
Our noble Ranger here will take the lead.
To the State Prison bear them, with instructions
To hold them closely under lock and key.
[Soldiers and Ranger retire to cut hand-spokes.
Now that we hold our evidence complete,
There is no motive to delay this trial.
What say you Amored? and you my lords?
A shift of diet is expedient.
These corpora delicti will be needed
As witnesses. More emphasis of speech
Dwells in their mute and haggard visages—
More verity upon their tacit lips—
More searching lightnings in their fixed gaze
Than in a hundred vacillating tongues
And twice than number of unmeaning eyes.
We therefore to insure their evidence,
Recal the putting off of this enquiry,
And name to-morrow, as the day of trial.
You will arrange it so, good Chancellor!
Here come our soldiers laden with their hand-biers
And screeny umbrage.
[Re-enter Ranger and soldiers bearing their wood-spoils.
Take these corpses up
And lay them separately upon their staves;—
Muffle them well with cypress.
[The bodies are arranged on the hand-spokes and covered over with boughs. Four soldiers take their places on each side.
Lift and march!
[Ranger and soldiers exeunt with the bodies.
The air is stifling,
We feel as if an earthquake were at hand.
Your arm, dear Amored! let us leave this spot—
Tradition will re-people it with spectres
And round it cast a halo of great horrors.
This day's experiences forebode to-morrow's!
Our throne's a seat of thorns and canopied with sorrows,
The trial that impends is trial sore
To those he loves, but to their sovereign more;
God give him courage to do well his part
And fortify alike both head and heart!
[Exeunt omnes.
Scene 5.
Hall of Justice— The Bench occupied by three Judges. Count Vicente and Lady Meranie on trial. Procureur-general, avocats, soldiers, macers, &c. The trial supposed to have been proceeded with up to a certain stage.1st Judge.
Touching the arraignment, procureur,
We are at fault. The wording of it bears
That with the appearing pannels Lord Vicente
And Lady Meranie, one named Gonseres
Should stand consorted?
Pro.
The Crown hath waived,
In the meantime, its charge against this man;
As an approver, not as one accused
We are instructed to regard him.
1st Judge.
Good!
This is our King's desire. We so accept it;
And in this bearing, we shall question him.
That he is in commitment and at hand
We take for granted. Bring him into court.
[Gonseres is led into court by soldiers.
Hold up your hand and after me repeat
The oath we dictate. “By th'Almighty God!
Who knoweth all things and the hearts of men,
I swear to speak the truth—the truth entire,
As I shall answer at His Judgment Seat.”
[Oath administered, repeated by Gonseres.
(Judge
proceeds.)
Your designation on th'roll before us
Is incomplete—simply amounts to this—
You held engagement with the Lord Soartes.
In what capacity is vaguely stated.
Rumour asserts you were his protégé
Advanced for some small service you had done him
To post of confidence! Further than this,
(But we are slow to credit what is thrust
Upon the common ear), that there is tie of blood
Betwixt you; anywise, you hold
His special favour. On the point of kinship,
You are at freedom to enlighten us,
Or leave us in the dark. We need not say,
The more of cloud you help to dissipate
Surrounding you and your pretensions,
The clearer you let in the light upon us
Whereby to estimate you tell the truth.
The name assumed by you, among his vassals,
Holds not. It is consorted, or we err,
With titles claimed by him of old descent.
Gon.
I am Soartes' son.
Judge.
In wedlock born?
Gon.
I have no reason to say otherwise.
Yet how should I know? or what matters it?
It is no fault of mine. His noblest souls
With bastard bodies God incorporates
Oftener, than with legitimacy blends,
To make a farce of which and a contempt—
Judge.
Silence! you run before the wind too quickly—
Are libertine in speech, and would defame
Your mother, sire, and self, man's law and God's,
All in one breathing. Such respect of things
We warn you, argues disrespect of Truth,
And to the scales of judgment bringeth weight.
We beat the bush round, coming to the point;
Now, straight to it, without a tack or halt
Our purpose bear us! Lay thine accusation
Gon.
I am coerced to make appearance here.
In what capacity? Approver? Witness?
Why settle all the burden upon me?
The King, the Prince, and their surrounding court
Were equally approvers to the fact.
Her crime stood blazing on that woman's brow.
All saw it that had eyes. Did I accuse her!
It needed not. The evidence hung there,
Clear as a star bound on the brow of night
When nature and the high heavens are serenest.
2nd Judge.
That it behoved her and took fitting part
On this occasion of imperial joy,
Nor drew especial notice from the King,
Until provoked by your audacious presence,
Creates suspicion you were at the root
Of a conspiracy against this ladye—
Before we further task you on the matter,
A simple statement from the Count Vicente
Claims our regard:
[Enter a herald.
Herald.
The King and Prince approach!
[Enter King, Prince, and nobles.
King.
To the court assembled
And our puissant judges heading it
We offer kindly greeting. Let our presence
Act not in interruption of proceedings.
The point this vexing trial hath attained to
A glance takes in, and to re-iterate
Is not required. An opportunity
Is given to the noble Lord Vicente
To vindicate his loyalty and honour,
So we have been apprized. With wistful ear
We would attend him and a hopeful heart.
Vic.
Dear Sovereign! the whole of my defence
Rests on a simple narrative—so simple
And yet (proceeding from the mouth of one,
Trusted as an adviser to the State
Whose over-weening judgment should have led
To more correct conclusions) so unlike
A thing of likelyhood, as to make clear
To some, there is contrivance at the root.
Not so to you my gracious Sovereign!
Yet, did this fanlt of judgment compromise
None but myself, I would kneel down to it
And ask disgrace and exile for my weakness,
Great happiness, the knowledge of my favour
In the King's eyes, my prizing beyond price
The pride and flawless jewel of my heart
All had to do with it. Such extasy,
Delirium call it, will occasion take
In every man's experience to o'er-ride
At happ'ning times, the clearest of his senses.
My narrative is shortly told. A week
After our joyful nuptials, while as yet
The crescent of our honeymoon of love
Was on the ascendant, I had occasion
To pass into my study about sunrise,
And in so doing, all at once my eye
Lighted upon an arrow fast ennailed
In the oak pannel opposite a casement
Which over-looks the lawn before our castle.
Was a small casket freighted with this stone
Of evil destiny; and on the shaft
Fluttered a label scrawled by feigning pen
Whose purport was the pressing for acceptance
As bridal gift, on Lady Meranie,
The jewel now in question.
To put construction on so strange a happening—
To interpret it in any other light,
Taking into account the diamond's worth,
Than as a royal token of regard,
All notion of conspiracy at work
Unentertained, were treason in itself.
Yet, Sovereign! a diviner power, believe me,
To deal with strong temptations and work out
Problems in human motives, is bestowed
Upon our loving helpmates than ourselves,—
A higher intuition, greater tact.
Had I but hearken'd to my better angel
And the dissuasion of her fragrant lips.
Not urging on her my insane conceits,
Oh! what humiliation had been saved us!
King.
A strange relation this, my Lord Vicente,
But with its very strangeness, if we err not,
The proofs of its veracity are bound.
Where are this shaft and its appurtenances?
We are desirous to examine them.
Pro.-Gen.
They lie before the Court, your Majesty,
Placed in production for the Count's defence.
Judge.
Macer! remove and lay before the King
These depositions of the Lady Ella
And the retainers of the Lord Vicente
Taken and sworn to in judicial presence;
Also this arrow and its rude direction.
The evidence is irrefragable,
[Documents and arrow laid by Macer before the King.
And with the declaration of the accused
Tallies in every point and circumstance.
With your high sanction, honoured Sovereign!
Of the grave crime imputed to the arraigned,
This esteemed lady and her noble consort,
We would pronounce acquittal and discharge.
King.
Most noble Judges! 'tis with gratitude
We give approval to your grave decision.
This clearing from all doubt of loyalty,
On part of Lord Vicente and his lady,
Removes a heavy burden from our heart.
Now that they stand assoilzed, we are hopeful
The evil influence of this diamond
Hath passed away and with it every cloud
Boding disaster and calamity.
But here remaineth over for disposal
This false accuser. To be merciful,
Upon occasions which the outward eye
Regards, as counselling opportunity
To deal out justice with unsparing hand,
And vindicate the Majesty of Law,
Is our rejoicing. A man's lost repute,—
His life, the future of his race and kin,—
All the sore forfeitures incurred by him
And provocations leading to his crime
Require to be considered, weighed, and rated.
And foul asperser of a lady's honour,
No loop-hole of escape can we espy,
Nor an excuse for exercise of mercy.
Among the documents submitted to us
In form of depositions, meets our glance
One carrying relation to this arrow,
Our Forest ranger recognizes it,
As fashioned by the approver, who, it seems,
Is skilled as an artificer of weapons
Made use of in the chase, and traded with
Largely on that account. More evidence
We hold in hand, which bears upon the fact
That he was party in the jewels' abstraction;
But in the darker and more devilish scheme,
Sole actor and contriver. Fellow! speak
[to Gonseres.
And make confession ample of thy crime!
The little that is left us of our patience
Take vantage of to better any one
Thou hast regard for and reduce the shame
And infamy accruing to thy name.
Gon.
To have prejudged and doomed me, let suffice;
What need of more? To coax confession from me
Or with the rack extort it, I defy thee!
That in the seizure of the regal jewels
I was accomplice of the Lord Soartes
You have adduced no proof; and your conclusions
Come of the simple fact he was my sire.
As hostage to detain me for his crime
Your laws give no direct authority.
For his escape, be thanked his better stars!
I hav'nt such divinities to thank
In my behalf, and when the King resolves
Against me with his batch of hired judges
My duty—the extremest of my duties,
Which hath no will of soul or body in it,
Is to submit.
King.
One spark of grace in thee
Might, but we wrongly deemed, have led to make
Some small atonement for thy heinous crimes.
Dastard and perjured! hast thou no relenting?
We make one more—the last appeal to thee
And if it move thee not, thy soul be pitied!
[To the heralds—
Hie, heralds! to the Prison of the State
And summon forth the Warder and his charge.
A fitting retinue there is provided.
Conduct all here with due solemnity.
Judge.
Throw ope the gates and let a space be cleared
In front of the approver. Macers! ho!
Advance and range yourselves, with staves of office
Lowered, on each side the entrance.
[A flourish of trumpets is heard, succeeded by solemn music; the dead-march and misereres. A train headed by the heralds, warder, and six monks chanting a requiem, enters. Following these, are carried, each by eight soldiers, the bodies of Lord Soartes and Inora, covered over with cypress boughs; an officer in rear with sword depressed. Two tressels are brought forward and placed in front of Gonseres, the King and nobles occupying a throne and benches opposite.
(to Gonseres)
Prepare thy hardened heart and insolent eye,
If in the former ever nature dwelt
And from the latter ever sprung a tear,
To combat with a spectacle of horror
So terrible, the angels, Death's excepted,
Encircling us for better or for worse,
Shudder and hide their faces in their wings.
Soldiers! Remove these leafy coverings—
(aside.)
Bear up, my heart! Sustain me, heart and brain!
I have a monarch's duty to perform.
[The soldiers remove the cypress branches and expose the bodies of Soartes and Inora.
Gon.
Is this the cruel end of it? Oh, mother!
The high conclusions of thy scheming brain
Are come to with a vengeance. Listen, King!
I owe thee a confession, and thou owest
The grace to me, and so do all assembled,
To hearken to it. The one tender part
Surviving in my nature thou hast touched,
And by this touch set free the hidden springs
Which I had thought to choke and fasten up.
Oh, Monarch! be indulgent to my woe!
No utterance of it struggling through my lips
Can give thee apprehension of its depths
Nor of the whirlpool with its eddying clutch
That downward drags me—downward to perdition!
Could I wring words from these cold effigies,
It might abate my torture, and my crimes
Shew in another light. Oh, mother! speak,
And answer why the issue of thy womb
Thou did'st not stifle at its bringing forth?
Better thou had'st done so, than let the sun
Take cognizance of what hath come to pass
From such irresolution and forbearing.
King! it was but as yesterday gone by,
I came to know my worthy parentage;
And with the revelation of this tie,
In our design upon the royal jewels,
Rests my complicity. The Lord Soartes,
Until this light was let in on my mind,
I knew but as my patron and protector,
Her as a moon-struck woman, witch regarded,
That shunned all converse with humanity.
Our grasping project was devised by her,
As but a means to re-instate the man
On whom she had bestowed her all already—
The jewels of her heart and precious crown
Never to be restored, of chastity!
This revelation of the tie betwixt us
Was made occasion of to urge on me
Acceptance as a partner in her scheme;
In which capacity I pledged myself
To recommend it to the Crown custodier,
As an expedient opportune and simple
Whereby to mend his fortunes and repair
The wrongs done to the lady Meranie.
That I lent greedy ear to her proposal,
As suiting my ambition, I deny not.
To Lord Soartes, as I knew him then,
I also had some measure of attachment.
Another bond there was; of it, anon.
And plied my patron so with arguments,
No shadow of resistance there remained.
King.
Go on with your confession. Once we looked
For better endings from our ancient gossip;
But brittle staffs are those which Kings lean on.
What we require to know and be assured of
Is, not so much the part enacted by you
In this conspiracy, as to have set
Before us and made clear the mystery
Pertaining to the ranker of your crimes;
For so we hold the attempt to implicate
A noble and most estimable lady
In the award of treason.
Gon.
Sovereign!
Upon so grave and solemn an occasion,
In presence of these authors of my being
Whom violence hath slain (nor do I seek
The manner of their fates to have set forth,
For on my inner vision bursts to light
The closing chapter of this tragic tale,
And I can read it, in its every page
Sentence and letter to the dire conclusion)
In presence of these silent witnesses,
Upon whose faces vacated by life
The cruel hand of Death bedaubed with gore
Hath token set—before this Court assembled—
Before the King and his surrounding nobles;
They too regarding me whom in fierce hate
And frantic jealousy I would have made
Sacrifice of, without remorse or quailing,—
In presences so telling and august
Moved by some pow'r sent down from heaven to move me,
I have declared to make a full confession.
What prompted me to embrace my mother's scheme
Was, as already told, a strong desire
To help, in his extremity of fortune
The Lord Soartes; not for his own sake,
Nor yet in gratitude for favours dealt me.
These were at best but secondary motives.
The baron had a niece, his ward as well,
In whose bright eyes I though to 'stablish favour,
And under this delusion, made advances
In my own boisterous fashion, which, repelled,
I sought her guardian's ear; and flattering it
With promise of my zealous services.
In his behoof, (the advantage of our project
Also set forth in eulogistic terms,)
So won upon him that he undertook
To enforce his ward's submission to my claims.
At this auspicious juncture, there stepped in
Another, in whose stepping in I read
As 'twere the death warrant to my soaring hopes,
The Count Vicente, an accepted suitor,
Who had been absent upon state affairs,
Up to this date, pressed forward on the stage
And carried all before him. Lord Soartes
Her wronger and betrayer fain would back
Out of our compact; but I held the reins,
And when to slacken or to tighten them,
Knew well. His helping to my high ambition
Was now beyond all possibility;
Yet to cry quits and let our project die
A natural death, it was not in my nature.
The jealousies within my bosom roused
Had no compunction. My revenge was settled,
And out of hell I summoned witnesses
To put their mark to it. Never occurred
Such opportunity to work a vengeance;
And strung to the considerate working of it
Were every nerve and thew of energy.
Of this dark episode, you know the ending.
A terrible confession thou hast made
And tingling to our ears. The which to hold thee,
Demon or maniac, or the twain combined,
We are in doubt. This only shall we say,
That the surrendering to thy better angel
And making revelation of thy guilt
And promptings to it, put more hopeful face
On the hereafter thou art entering on.
Forbid, that the insane presumption
Of mercy from our mouth should cling to thee!
The executioner is at the gate,
The rearing of the scaffold within earshot.
Our kingdom is too narrow to admit
Truculent men and graceless, such as thou,
To prosper in it. The purgation
Of yesterday insists upon completion;
And may such fates and unexampled deaths
The bitter fruits of unexampled crimes
Give warning to all men to put restraint
Upon their wollish passions and desires.
If thou hast aught to tag to thy confession,
Out with it quickly!
Gon.
King! there but remains
One grace to ask—one duty to perform,
Now, that my shrift is ended. From this lady,
Whom I have so maligned and sought to harm,
With foulest machinations compassing
Her honour and her life, I sue forgiveness!
And the same earnest grace, by word or sign,
To have accorded to me, I entreat
Her noble husband. So, my sovereign,
I shall have peace in parting with this world
And better passport to the one beyond.
Vic.
Far be it from me to refuse to thee
So small a boon, if it will give thee peace
And make thy penitence of aught avail.
With sanction of the Church, our loving Countess
Appoints, that masses for her uncle's soul
And thine be offered for a twelvemonth's space,
The King consenting.
King.
Generosity (to Gonseres)
Flowing so largely from so wronged a source
Hath rarely had its like. With coals of fire
Heaped on thy head and at thine own beseeching,
To meet thy righteous doom it is ordained.
This Christian example we are moved by
And shall remit in part, the penalties
Our laws assign to Treason. Thy beheadal
Will satisfy the stern demands of Justice.
In the same condemnation we include
The mute insensate form that was Soartes;
For such disfigurement is justly due
To every wretched felon, dead or living,
Who tampering basely with his post of trust,
As did this treacherous and degraded man,
Works to the hurt of Order and of Peace.
The quartering of his body we dispense with,
Calling to mind our former fellowship.
And now Prince Amored, our beloved son!
Judges and peers assembled! ere we part,
One duty yet remains to be performed
Which as the wind-up on this sore occasion,
Takes worse with us than dealing to the others
Their due award. Of all catastrophes
Most woful in our life's experience,
Was this weird woman's end. 'Twas martyrdom
More than self-murder, and the deed of blood
Preceding it, a brave, heroic act!
Too late, she came to knowledge of her shame,
And of the vile and heartless paramour
To whom, upon the altar of his lust,
Were sacrificed her reason and her virtue.
Nevertheless,
Holding in view each terrible temptation,
(An erring love the strongest reck'd of all),
It is our duty to refuse to this
Void shell, its rest in consecrated ground;
And to appoint that it be carried out
Beyond the precincts of the city walls
Into the Forest's heart; and at a spot
Where three paths meet, be solemnly interred.
The stake which law and usage do adjudge
To be thrust through the hapless suicide,
That poignard in its place shall represent.
[Pointing to the dagger sticking in Inora's heart.
Soldiers! restore these leafy coverings
And bear her forth to her appointed home.
Let toll the prison bell! A funeral march
With muffled drums, strike up! Bearers! advance
And lift this quondam image of a man
Transmuted to a fiend! The more we think on't,
More monstrous grows the thought, he was our gossip,
And held the royal ear in command.
To execution prompt, lead out Gonseres;
The self-same axe that lops that traitor's head off,
Unwiped, will satisfy its other purpose.
[The bodies of Inora and Soartes are carried out, and Gonseres, under guard, led forth to execution; solemn music, and the tolling of a bell, accompanying the march of the procession.
Observe, my lords, how work the avenging Fates!
The murderous dagger and the headsman's weapon,
In the commingling of these savage bloods,
Are brought to bear and silently are loud
In their proclaim of an o'erruling Power.
And now, dear friends! be notched upon your minds
The bringings forth of this eventful day,
And in red letters on your calendar,
Let it be scored, whether for feast or fast,
For gratulation and high thanksgiving,
Or as a day of humbling and confession;
Both purposes it will subserve and answer.
Nor shall the diamond that hath led to this
Disturbance in our fair dominions
Be reconsigned to darkness and neglect.
The new custodier of our Regalia
We now establish in his post of honour,
In person of the noble Count Vicente;
In the full faith, he will discharge his trust
With unimpeachable fidelity.
We also do appoint that once in the year
Solemn procession from our palace gates
To the Cathedral, shall be set on foot;
In front of it the Cross, and following
A silver salver with the Jewel graced
And rubied round with all our choicest peers;
Also this guard of honour shall include
The fairest virgins in our broad dominions
Plumed and attired in robes of modesty.
[Curtain falls.
(Drama concluded.)
| The Crown Jewel | |