 | The Bohemian Girl |  |
Scene 4.
—Interior of Count Arnheim's Apartment in the Hall of Justice—a view of the last scene visible through one of the windows at the back. A full length portrait of Arline, as she was in the first act, hangs on the wall; state chairs, &c. An elevation or daïs on the O.P. side.Count Arnheim
enters thoughtful and dejected, he contemplates Arline's portrait, and wipes the tear from his eye.
RECITATIVE.
Whate'er the scenes the present hour calls forth before the sight,
They lose their splendour when compared with scenes of past delight.
To weakest hope will cling,
To thought and impulse while they flow,
That can no comfort bring.
With those exciting scenes will blend
O'er pleasure's pathway thrown,
But mem'ry is the only friend
That grief can call its own.
Still ponder o'er the past,
On moments of delight that were
Too beautiful to last.
Its visions with them flown;
For mem'ry is the only friend
That grief can call its own.
Cap.
A robbery has been committed, and the accused is now
in the Hall awaiting the pleasure of your lordship, as chief
magistrate of the city, for examination.
Cou.
Bring the parties before me.
Anything to arouse me from these distracting thoughts, though
the sole happiness I now enjoy is in the recollection of my long-lost
child.
[Seats himself, when the doors are violently opened and a mob of Citizens, Guards, and Gentry enter. Florestein, who is in the midst of them, instantly rushes up to the Count.
Flo.
It is your lordship's nephew—I, who have been robbed!
Cou.
Some folly of yours is for ever compromising my name
and that of your family.
Flo.
But I am in this instance the victim—I have been robbed,
and there stands the culprit.
[Pointing to Arline standing in the centre, pale and with dishevelled hair, but still haughty in her demeanour.
Cou.
(aside.)
'Tis she I saw but now in the public square.
That girl—so young, so beautiful—commit a robbery, impossible!
Flo.
She stole this medallion belonging to me—we found it
upon her.
Cou.
(addressing Arline.)
Can this be true?
Arl.
(looking contemptuously at Florestein, and turning with dignity to the Count.)
Heaven knows I am innocent, and if your
lordship knew my heart, you would not deem me guilty.
Cou.
Her words sink deep into my breast. Childless myself,
I fain would spare the child of another.
(To Florestein.)
What
proofs have you of this?
Flo.
(pointing to his friends.)
My witnesses are here, who all
can swear they saw it on her neck.
All.
We can.
Cou.
Still does my mind misgive me.
(To Arline, in a kind
tone.)
My wish is to establish your innocence—explain this matter
to me, and without fear.
Arl.
That medallion was given to me by the Queen of the
tribe to which I belong—how it became in her possession I know
not.—But a light breaks in upon me—I see it all—I chanced to
incur her displeasure, and to revenge herself upon me she has
laid for me this shameful snare, into which I have innocently
fallen, and of which I have become the victim.
[Hiding her face in her hands and weeping.
Cou.
(with a struggle.)
I believe your tale, and from my heart I
pity the inexperience which has led to the ruin of one who
of duty I must compromise the feelings of nature, and I
am forced to deliver you into the hands of justice.
Arl.
(to the Count.)
To you, my earthly—to Him, my heavenly
Judge, I reassert my innocence. I may be accused, but will
not be degraded; and from the infamy with which I am unjustly
threatened, thus I free myself.
[She draws a dagger from beneath her scarf, and is about to stab herself, when Count Arnheim rushes forward seizes her arm, and wrests the dagger from her.
FINALE.
Cou.
Hold! hold!
We cannot give the life we take,
Nor re-unite the heart we break!
Sad thing—
[Taking the hand of Arline, and suddenly seeing the wound on her arm.
What visions round me rise,
And cloud, with mists of the past, mine eyes!
That mark! those features! and thy youth!
[Dragging Arline forward, and in great agitation.
My very life hangs on thy truth—
How came that mark?
Arl.
(recollecting Thaddeus' words.)
Ere on my head
My sixth sun had its radiance shed,
A wild deer, who had lain at bay,
Pursued by hunters cross'd my way;
My tender frame, by his antler gor'd,
An humble youth to my home restor'd.
The tale he but this day confess'd,
And is near at hand to relate the rest.
[Here a tumult is heard, and Thaddeus, having escaped from those who confined him, breaks into the room, and rushes into the arms of Arline. The Count, on seeing him, reels back. A general excitement prevails.
Cou.
With the force of fear and hope
My feelings have to cope!
Arl.
(Approaching the Count, and pointing to Thaddeus, who starts on beholding him.)
'Tis he the danger brav'd;
'Tis he my life who saved.
SOLO.
Cou.
(seizing Arline in his arms and in a transport of joy.)
Mine own, my long-lost child!
Oh, seek not to control
This frantic joy, this wild
Delirium of my soul!
And pillowed on his breast,
Bid all the rude alarms
That assail'd thy feelings, rest.
[Count clasps Arline to his heart; kisses her head, hands, and hair, shedding tears of joy.
Arl.
(bewildered, starts from the Count, and runs to Thaddeus.)
Speak—speak! this shaken frame,
This doubt, this torture, see—
My hopes—my very life—my fame
Depend on thee.
Tha.
(pointing to Count Arnheim, with deep emotion, aside.)
Dear as thou long hast been,
Dear as thou long wilt be,
Mourned as this passing scene
Will be through life by me,
Though his heart, and none other like mine can adore thee,
Yet (aloud)
thou art not deceived—'TIS thy father before thee!
[Arline staggers, and then rushes into the Count's arms.
[Ensemble]
Cho.
Prais'd be the will of heav'n
Whose light on them smil'd,
And whose bounty hath given
The father his child!
Cou.
Prais'd be the will of heav'n,
Whose light o'er me smiled,
And whose bounty hath given
A father his child!
Arl.
Prais'd be the will of heav'n
Whose light o'er me smiled,
And whose bounty hath given
A father his child!
Tha.
Though from this bosom riven,
That heart is beguil'd,
The bereavement hath giv'n
The father his child!
Thaddeus hides his face in his hands, much moved.
Dev.
(suddenly emerging from the crowd, and dragging Thaddeus away.)
Better to go ere driv'n
Than e'er be revil'd,
For the bounty hath giv'n
The father his child!
Cho.
Prais'd be the will of heav'n
Whose light on them smiled,
And whose bounty hath giv'n
The father his child!
| The Bohemian Girl | |