University of Virginia Library

SCENE III

—The Abbey-Ruins, shewing the principal aisle of the Cloister. Through the openings of the arches is perceived a court filled with tombstones, some of them covered with moss and ivy; and beyond, are other galleries in lengthened perspective. On L. stands a row of monumental statues, raised on high pedestals. Upon the ground-tombs are discerned, the recumbent stone figures of the deceased Nuns; and in the centre, embedded in one of the middle arches, is prominently seen the tomb of St. Rosalie, the Foundress of the Abbey. Her statue cut in white marble, and covered with a religious habit, holds a branch of cypress. At the back is seen a large gate, with a staircase leading to the convent vaults. Lamps of rusted iron still hang from the vaulted roof, and everything betokens that the spot has long been deserted. The stars are seen in the sky, and the ruins receive no other light than what is thrown by the rays of the moon, which fall so brightly on the pavement as to show the moving shadow of any figure that passes.
Enter Bertram by the gate, C.; he advances slowly, gazing on the objects around him. The birds of night, disturbed in their solitary haunt by the unusual noise, take wing.
RECITATIVE.—Bertram.
EVOCATION.

(flitting wild fires, of a bluish hue, appear quivering along the galleries, play over the different tombs, and finally extinguish their light over the Nuns' figures as well as over the gravestones in the court, when the statues, forming the row, L., noiselessly slide down to the ground, and the monumental figures on the flat tombstones slowly arise till they stand erect, and then descend without any effort of volition. A group of Nuns in white shrouds appear upon the gateway staircase, and seem to glide along. Another group advance in procession, with the same gliding motion, from the court; and finally they appear gathering and approaching on every side. No movement of the body yet betrays their revival. They all silently gather around Bertram. Presently, their eyes

---

39

open, and they begin to move by degrees; and the restoration of life seems complete, but still attended by the pallidness of death. The iron lamps light of themselves, and darkness ceases.
Bertram.

Daughters once of heaven, now of hell—workers
of evil, my voice hath for one hour recalled you to your former
selves, to do my bidding. Listen to my command! The steps
of a valiant knight, whom I protect and love, now approach
these ruins; he comes to pluck yonder green branch; but, if his
hand should falter, be it your task to win him to the deed!
Tempt him, force him to accomplish his promised daring, nor
let him suspect the fate that awaits his rashness. Ye have
heard; tremble to disobey!

Exit, C.
(the Nuns give token of implicit obedience. Soon the instinct of their former passions glows in their reanimated forms. They recognize each other and express their joy; Helena, their superior, incites them by her example; they throw off their shrouds, and join in frenzied dance. Some of them draw forth from the tombs the former objects of their profane predilection, amphorœ, cups, diceboxes, &c. Others present offerings to a hideous idol. In the midst of their impious orgies, they hear the approaching steps of Robert; they suddenly suspend their pursuits, and hide themselves behind the pillars and tombs. The lamps go out, and the scene resumes its previous appearance.
Enter Robert through the Abbey-gate, C., with awe and hesitation.
RECITATIVE.—Robert.
I've reach'd at last
The spot where the Dead, silent, sleep.
Let me on; Thro' my veins, fast,
Chilling horrors creep!
These cloisters—dismal tombs,
That tell of crime and woe,
My courage nigh o'erthrow!
'Neath the moon's silvery ray,
Shines the branch—(with its green paley light,
Its leaves o'er the tomb brightly bending—)
Which, gain'd, shall my daring repay
With wealth unending,
And ever-new delight.
Why feel I fear so base?
(he advances to the statue of St. Rosalie, and instantly starts back, struck with sudden terror.)
Ah me! Yon marble statue,
Like my dead mother's face,
Frowns with reproachful eye;
My heart recoils!
With fear and shame I fly!

(as he seeks to retreat, the scene lights up again, and he finds himself surrounded by all the phantom Nuns. They eagerly allure him by divers temptations—they present him with wine, drinking it themselves with avidity; lead him to the implements of play, scattered o'er a tombstone, displaying to him gold and caskets of jewels. After a momentary yielding, he breaks away in disgust. But he at last succumbs to the fascinating wiles of Helena, who leads him captive towards the magic cypress branch. While she indicates it to him with her finger, he snatches a kiss from her lips, and in the intoxication of his passion, seizes on the talisman. All at once, the discordant laughter of Invisible Fiends, rings loudly through the vaults, accompanied by the rattling of chains, and unearthly noises. The Spirit-Nuns form a frantic Bacchanalian chain round Robert, who forces his way through them with the power of the magic branch. Demons with blazing torches now join in the dance, while others traverse the air. By degrees, the temporary life that animated the revived Nuns expires; and, becoming more and more languid, they fall lifeless near their respective tombs; when a Demon, appearing from the inside of each sepulchure, seizes anew upon his victim, while the following chorus is yelled around—

The prey is ours!
Infernal pow'rs,
Spirits of ill,
We triumph still!