University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

A large sombre room, with mystical figures and strange characters painted upon the walls, and lighted only by one lamp, burning upon a table near the front of the stage. Enter a Conjuror in a long loose robe, and Petronius, meeting him, by opposite sides.
Pet.
Well, my good sage, how thrives thy mystic trade?
Go all things prosperously?

Con.
As thou couldst wish: to many a citizen
I have the fix'd decree of fate foretold,
Which to the Sultan gives this mighty city,
Making all opposition and defence
Vain; and their superstition works for us
Most powerfully.

Pet.
So far 'tis well; but be thou on thy guard;
I am expressly come to caution thee.
Should any visit thee, whom thou suspectest
To be connected with th' imperial friends,
Be sure thy visions speak to them of things
Pleasant to loyal ears.

Con.
Fear not; I have already been forewarn'd,
And have such caution follow'd.

Pet.
Thou hast done wisely: still keep on thy guard,
And be not e'en surprised if thou, ere long,
Shouldst have a royal visiter. My agents,
Who in th' imperial palace are on watch,
Have giv'n me notice that Valeria's mind
Is this way bent. If so, let thy delusions
Still tempt her in the city to remain,
For herein is the Sultan much concern'd.
Hash! we are interrupted.

Enter a Servant.
Serv.
(to con.).
A noble matron craves to speak with thee.

Con.
Dost thou not know her?

Serv.
No; in a black stole
She's closely veil'd; yet noble is her gait;
And her attendant underneath his cloak,
But ill conceal'd, wears an imperial crest.

Pet. and Con.
(both together).
Can it indeed be she?

[Pausing to consider.
Con.
I'll venture it. (To servant.)
Go and conduct her hither.
[Exit servant.
It must be she: I'll boldly venture it.

Pet.
Thou mayst with little risk: meantime, remember
The caution I have given thee.

Con.
Trust to my skill, and be a while withdrawn,
My noble patron.

[Exit Petronius. Enter Valeria, concealed under a long black stole, followed by Lucia and two female attendants, who remain at the bottom of the stage whilst she comes forward.
Con.
Approach, great dame.

Val.
Yes, in misfortune so;
That is my eminence: and unto thee
I come, an anxious suitor, if that truly
Th' unseen mysterious powers, with whom thou dealst,
To human weal and woe alliance bear,
And may unto the care-rack'd mind foreshow
The path of awful fate that lies before it.
I do beseech thee!—

Con.
Say thou dost command;
For through that sable stole, were it as thick
As midnight's curtain, still I could behold
Thy keenly-glancing eye, and the dark arch
Of royal brows accustom'd to command.

Val.
Ha! dost thou see me?

Con.
Yea; and who is he,
Whose shadowy unreal form behind thee towers,
As link'd with thine though absent? O'er his head
Th' imperial eagle soars, and in his hand
He grasps the emblem of supreme command.

Val.
(throwing back the stole with astonishment mixed with fear).
O, most mysterious and wonderful!
Nothing is hid from thee: thou seest afar
The distant death's day of the swathed babe,
Falling in hoary age, and the life's morn
Of those who are not.—Here then all confess'd,
A wretched empress and a trembling wife,
I stand before thee. O let thy keen eye
Through the dark mist that limits nature's sight,
Follow that phantom o'er whose head doth soar
Th' imperial bird! for, be it good or ill,
His fate is mine, and in his fate alone
I seek to know it.

Con.
And hast thou strength to bear it? art thou firm?
For that which smites mine eye must smite thine ear.

Val.
(alarmed).
Thou reck'nest then to look on dreadful things?

Con.
I may or may not; but with mind not braced
In its full strength, seek not thy fate to know.

Val.
(after a hesitating pause of great agitation).
I can bear all things but the dread uncertainty
Of what I am to bear.

Con.
Then shall it be unto thee as thou wilt.

[After some mysterious motions and muttering to himself, he turns his face towards the bottom of the stage, as if he had his eye steadfastly fixed upon some distant point; and continues so for some time without moving, whilst she stands, watching his countenance eagerly, with her face turned to the front of the stage.
Val.
(impatiently, after a pause).
O! what dost thou behold?

Con.
Nay, nothing yet but the dark formless void.
Be patient and attend.—I see him now:
On the tower'd wall he stands: the dreadful battle
Roars round him. Through dark smoke, and sheeted flames,
And showers of hurtling darts, and hissing balls,
He strides: beneath his sword falls many a foe:
His dauntless breast to the full tide of battle
He nobly gives. Still on through the dark storm
Mine eye pursues him to his fate's high cope—

Val.
His fate's high cope! merciful, awful heaven!
[After a pause.
O, wherefore dost thou pause? thine eyes roll terribly:
What dost thou see? thou lookst on things most dreadful!
O look not thus, but say what thou dost see!

Con.
I see a frowning chief, the crescent's champion,
In bold defiance meet thy valiant lord.
The fight is fierce and bloody.—

Val.
Again thou pausest yet more terribly.—
Hast thou no utterance for what thou seest?
O God! O God! thou lookst upon his death!
[Clasping her hands violently.
Dost thou not speak? wilt thou not answer me?
Thou lookst upon his death!

Con.
I look on nothing, for thy frantic terrors
Have broken the fabric of my air-shaped vision,
And all is blank.

Val.
And will it not return to thee again?
O fix thine eyes, and to it bend thy soul
Intently, if it still may rise before thee,
For thou hast made me frantic!

Con.
(after a pause, and fixing his eyes as before).
The forms again return—
The champions meet: the fight is fierce and terrible:
The fateful stroke is given: and Constantine—

Val.
Merciful heaven!

Con.
And Constantine lays the proud crescent low.

Val.
(pausing for a moment as if to be assured that she has heard right, and then holding up her hands in ecstasy).
It is! it is! O words of bliss!—Thou seest it!
My Constantine lays the proud crescent low!
Thou lookst upon it truly; and their forms
Before thee move, e'en as the very forms
Of living men?

Con.
Even so.

Val.
O blessed sight!
It is not witch'ry's spell, but holy spirits
Sent from a gracious heav'n that shapes such forms;
And be it lawless or unhallow'd deem'd,
Here will I kneel in humble gratitude.

Con.
(preventing her from kneeling).
No, no, this must not be: attend again:
There's more behind.

Val.
Ha! sayst thou more behind? Or good or evil?

Con.
Mixed I ween: 'tis still in darkness lapp'd.

Val.
In darkness let it rest: I've heard enough,
I would not look upon thine eyes again,
And in my fancy shape thy unseen sights,
For all that e'er—Is that which lies behind
A far extended vision?
[Pausing anxiously.
Thou wilt not answer me—well, rest it so.
But yet, O forward look for one short year,
And say who then shall be this city's lord.

Con.
Thy husband and thy lord, most might dame,
Shall at that period be this city's lord.

Val.
Then I am satisfied. Thou hast my thanks,
My very grateful thanks. There is thy recompense,
And this too added.
[Giving him a purse, and then a ring from her hand.
We shall meet again
In happier days, when the proud crescent's low,
And thou shalt have a princely recompense.
[Turning to her attendants as she goes away.
Come, Lucia; come, my friends; the storm will pass,
And we shall smile in the fair light of heaven
In happier days.

[Exit, followed by her attendants.
Con.
(looking at his reward).
Good sooth, this almost smites against my heart;
But goes she not far happier than she came?
Have I not earn'd it well?

Re-enter Petronius.
Pet.
Thou hast well earn'd it.
What! harbour such poor scruples in a breast
So exercised in a trade like this?
Fy on't! But if thy conscience is so nice,
Know that thou hast in all good likelihood
Predicted truly; and her lord and husband
Shall be still, as thou sayst, this city's lord.

Con.
How so?

Pet.
Hast thou not skill enough to guess?
Much has the Sultan of Valeria heard;
And, with the future beauties of his palace,
His fancy, in the most distinguish'd rank,
Already places her. Thou wilt ere long,
I can foretel by certain fleeting shapes
Which at this moment dance before mine eyes,
A favour'd, famous, courtly prophet be.
My little Ella too, taught by my art,
May play, perhaps, her part; and so together
We'll amicably work.—May it not be?
Put up thy gold and say it is well earn'd.

Con.
It must be had, and therefore must be earn'd,
Falsely or honestly.—Does Constantine,
As speaks this morning's rumour, send again
Another embassy to Mahomet
With terms of peace?

Pet.
He does, my friend: already in the palace
He, and his band of self-devoted fools,
Deliberate on it. Thou, at no great risk,
Mayst prophecy the issue of their counsels.

Con.
I have adventured upon bolder guessing.

Pet.
Excepting that slight aid from Genoa,
Which by the master of a coasting vessel.
Kept secretly on watch, I am inform'd
Is now almost within sight of the coast,
No hope remains to Constantine. And this
Shall not deceive him long; for I've despatch'd,
In a swift-sailing skiff, a trusty agent,
Who shall with costly bribes and false reports
Deter their boldness from all desp'rate efforts
To force a passage to the block'd-up port:
A thing, Rodrigo's bold success alone
Hath taught us to believe e'en possible.

Con.
Thanks for your information, my good lord:
I'll profit by it.

Pet.
But use it prudently. And so good day.
Well thrive thy trade, and all good luck attend us.

[Exeunt severally.