University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

A Street in Spires. The Houses decorated with Boughs and Garlands; Tapestry, &c., hanging from the Casements. Ringing of Bells continued during the whole Scene, and Music heard during the Procession, and more faintly before and after.
Alf, and several Citizens.
First Cit.
Alf, thou art brave to-day! Hast cast aside
Thy scrip?

Alf.
Thanks to the good Count Palatine,
I've left the beggar's wretched trade. But ye
Are decked as for a holiday; the streets, too,
Are rife with gay and busy folk; proud steeds,
Held by fair pages, prancing at each door;
The casements all alive with simpering maids;
The houses covered with rich cloth of gold,
Or richer tapestry; o'er every porch
Garlands, and boughs, and streamers. What hath chanced?

Sec. Cit.
Small need to ask! Do not the merry bells
Ring in thine ears the tidings? The loud peal
Of trump and cornet, tell they not a tale
Of royal nuptials? The fair Adela—

Alf.
Weds not to-day. The Count of Wittelsbach
Is at his Castle.

First Cit.
The Saints keep him there,
Or storms will cloud this sunshine. 'Tis Duke Leopold
Who weds the Princess.

Alf.
Leopold! Tush! tush!
Why, she's affianced to Count Otto. Be they
Turned fools as well as traitors? Leave a friend,
And such a friend, for such an enemy!
The victor for the vanquished! Tush!

First Cit.
They come:
Mark thou who leads the bride.

[A Splendid Procession, consisting of Philip, Leopold, Ardenberg, Hugo, Adela, Helen, Knights, Pages, Ladies, Guards, &c., passes over the Stage to the sound of Music, and ringing of Bells.—The Citizens toss up their caps.
Sec. Cit.
Now, Alf, were we not right?

Alf.
The whole world's wrong,
From Emperor to beggar, treacherous, false,
Ungrateful, cowardly! Ye, who stood there
Tossing your caps in air,—the cornets drowned
Your slavish voices,—in the selfsame place,
Two days agone, ye flung those very caps
Aloft, and rent the skies with deafening shouts,
In honour of Count Otto!

First Cit.
A braver chief
Ne'er breathed than the Count Palatine. So far
I grant thee. But we homely citizens
Were best not meddle with these great ones. She
Was sad and shivering.

Sec. Cit.
Ay, a pallid bride!

Alf.
She loves him still.

Enter Otto and Isidore.
Otto.
Alf! Why, thou look'st once more
A goodly host; we'll find thee speedily
A goodly hostel, man. Meanwhile, go buy
A steed, and follow us, not to the wars,
But home to Wittelsbach. Cheer up! Cheer up!
I will not have thee sad. What music's that?
The far-off music, faintlier heard and faintlier,
Dying away even as I speak! And what
Those bells that louder peal and louder? What
May those sounds mean?

Alf.
My lord—I cannot say it—
I cannot frame my speech to tell their treachery—

Otto.
Wilt thou not answer?

Alf.
'Tis the bridal, Sir,
Of Leopold and Adela.

Otto.
Thou liest!
By Heaven, I'd not believe my father's spirit,
Though he came from the grave to tell me that base tale!

Isi.
Poor Alf's no liar. See how thou hast grieved
The faithful wretch.

Otto.
Nay vex not, man! We know
Thy truth. But there's a lie, a cankered lie,
A rancorous, poisonous lie, that taints the air
We breathe, floating around us. Thou hast inhaled
The venom. Wed my Adela! Thou knewst not—
How shouldst thou know?—the royal maids. Young Helen,
She is the bride! I'd wager my broad lands
Against yon withered leaf,—They who strew roses
May look to find the thorns! I'd wager, Sir,
The County Palatine, if bride there be
'Tis Helen. Adela! My Adela!
They could not, would not, durst not. 'Tis young Helen.
But I'll be there.

Alf.
And I.

[Exeunt.