Ted. (to those who would disarm him.) Keep back!
Eck. Let him come on! O that his knightly sword
Could make again an honourable man!

Bern. Ha! tumult in the Emperor's halls!

Must be the murderer's judge.

'Tis the Diet

Yon knight

[Falls wounded.

[Dies.

Ted.
My name is Tedel,
Men add, the fearless-To my rightful judge

I will surrender; but while life remains,
No hireling soldier shall lay hands on me!
Otto. Knight, I'll go with thee-I disclaim all part
In what hath here been done-nor would for worlds
Thy Duke so meanly thought of Wittelsbach! [Exeunt hastily.
Phil. (alone.) Aye, a bold deed! and since his witness stands,
'Twas not amiss yon babbler should be silenced.

We have next the pious Matilda in earnest conference with the good Abbot Henry, on the painful mystery of the Black Knight, since whose illomened re-appearance in a recent battle between her husband and Bishop Uldarich of Halberstadt, (which ended in the excommunication of the former by the Prelate,) all has gone wrong with the Lion, while his usu

ally calm and fearless mind has been
inexplicably agitated and depressed.
The Abbot is disposed to see the
matter in the same preternatural
light-and half succeeds, by his sub-
sequent interrogatories, in persua-
ding his noble penitent to do the
same-yet he for a while thus indig-
nantly repels the dark suggestions of
superstition.

Abb. But then, who is this knight?
Duke.
Oh, gratitude
Enquires not names-'tis satisfied with deeds!
I know him not, I ne'er look'd on his brow,
He ne'er appear'd but in my utmost need.
All have their secrets-by some pious vow
Doubtless he's bound to mystery. I honour
His faithfulness-what boots it to know more?
Abb. And say it were an evil spirit, leagued
With thine own heart to ruin thee? Thy wife
Broods in deep anguish on such thoughts as these.
Duke. Oh, 'tis not possible! I've seen him pray,
He shrunk not from the holy sepulchre,

Nor shunn'd the church's rites-and yet I marvel
What secret fascination draws me towards him!
Oft have I ask'd myself, and still it seem'd
A something supernatural! Nay, ev'n

When deeper probed, my heart hath whisper'd me
I loved him more than all the world beside-

Aye, even

Abb. (hastily.) Than God?

Him silent I adore!

Duke.
No! 'twas Matilda's name was on my lips,
Which falter'd to pronounce another dearer.
Abb. Probe thy heart farther, Duke.
Duke.
Thou'st raised within!-Leave me--yet take mine oath,

Oh what a tumult

Th' unknown shall be unveil'd-To my poor wife
Speak peace. I'm innocent.

Yet wherefore then
Should thoughts of him thus stir me?

Omens of a different nature begin to thicken around the Lion's devoted head. His faithful old deputy, Henry of Lunenburg, indulges in boding anticipations of the sentence of the Diet, which the Duke, as yet a novice in misfortune, and strong in conscious rectitude, laughs to scorn.

[Exit Abbot.

They are sadly verified by the entrance of Otto and the brave Tedel, the former of whom vainly endea vours to prepare the sceptical Henry for the tidings of his own outlawry and Germany's disgrace. The Lion at first treats it as a jest on his too fearful retainer.

Duke (to Henry of L.) See, old man,
The Palatine is sporting with thy fears-
Otto! his colour changes—

Otto.

Manhood's cheek

The deed hath blanch'd,-no wonder age grows pale!
Duke. Enough! he's so attach'd-
Otto.
Hast thou yet doubts?
By Heaven! by Otto's honour! by thine own!
By Germany's shame! I spoke but truth, my lord!
Duke. By thine own honour, saidst thou? Wittelsbach
The Palatine's, that never trifled with it ?-Tedel?
And thou?
Ted.

Henry, thou know'st my word of old,—

He spoke the truth.

Otto.

The ban and outer ban

Because thou art a traitor

To Empire and to Emperor-leagued with Milan

To rob him of his crown!

Duke (confused.)

(Collaring Tedel.) O lying knave!

Ted. (gently.)

Otto.

His crown-to rob him?

Henry, 'tis I!

On Eckbert's testimony

The sentence rests-and on thy very letters-
Duke. Letters! my very letters!

Ted.

Aye, to Milan!

Duke (bewildered.) Who, I to Milan ?-Conscience must be dead!
Crime upon crime they heap upon mine head,

Of which my heart knows nothing!-Give me time
That I may understand-

All lawful forms

Otto.
The Diet hath observed-examined proofs-
Heard witnesses-and thou'rt an outlaw'd man-
Thy lands partition'd, and thyself proscribed!

[Duke sinks powerless into a chair.

Henry of L. (kneeling by him.) Oh! my dear lord!

Otto (grasping Tedel's hand.) Would it had been in fight!
Henry (shrieking.) O, heavenly powers-he weeps!
Duke (slowly recovering.)

Ye'll say it is unmanly !-yet I loved him,

And from the heart. I made my breast a shield

For his. Was't then his part thus basely

To stab me from behind?

Tedel (grasping his sword.) O, for a meeting
With this same Emperor!

Duke.

It ill becomes me;

Ye have seen my weakness:

Forget the tax I've paid humanity,
Ingratitude ne'er press'd on me till now.

Tedel. Be a man, Henry !-see, there's men around thee.
Duke. I will-Yet tell me-I scarce understood
Who was't that lied?

Tedel's good sword hath paid thy reckoning there.
Duke. 'Twas a base office for it, Tedel.

Ted.

At least ne'er stain'd it.

Duke.

Blood so base

And the Emperor's brow

I quitted

Who saw it as he spake the word?

Otto.

The Diet, lest into our country's grave

I had gone down with it. Thy lands are forfeited;
Bernhard hath Saxony. Bavaria's sceptre
To me is tendered.

Aye-but to lay it,

With my good sword, before its rightful lord.

Duke, No! from the heart I honour thee, Count Otto. 'Twas ne'er dominion's idle thirst that made

Henry a conqueror-I only sought

To give good rulers to a happy people.
Freely do I once more intrust to thee

My loved Bavarians, I can be no more

Their stay and shield-be thou their worthy lord,
Ere wasting wolves dispute the sceptre with thee!
Otto. Nay, Duke.

Duke.

No more!-I do think well of thee,

But cannot talk on't-'twere a flatterer's office

To praise thee to thy face. My Saxon subjects

Shall mine own sword protect-Bernhard's a caitiff
Unfit to be a father to that land

I've made so prosperous.-Speak no more of Frederick,
He's dead-and I've wept o'er him!-The Emperor

Must hear from Henry only through his sword.

The wailings of Matilda, who sees in this utter ruin only the completion of her evil auguries, close this scene of touching yet dignified sorrow.

The fourth act discovers Duke Henry asleep in a forest in Thuringiahis soldiers bivouacking around him. The Black Knight Baldwin, in complete armour as usual, stands at his side gazing on the slumbering Lion. It will be seen how naturally the dialogue tends to confirm the Duke's suspicions.

Duke (waking suddenly, and seeing Baldwin.) Ha! is it thou?— how cam'st thou here?-art born

Of Night, that thus thou risest at my side?

Bald. When peril menaces, I must be nigh thee.

Duke. How didst thou reach me? I am circled round

By guards, whose lances in the thicket make

A second forest?

She hath been hard upon thee. Thou'rt an outcast
Even from the bosom of thy mother church,
Her ban hath seal'd the Empire's.

Holy temples
Are closed against thee-not an altar's steps
Thy prayers may desecrate.

Duke (resignedly.) The earth is God's:
Each verdant bank an altar, where the Cross
I may erect, and still beneath its shade

Prayer must find grace.

Bald.

[Duke seems shocked.

My very footsteps spurn

This perjured land, where men play false with Heaven!
Methinks in yonder burning Araby,

Where heathens dwell, I'd find a better home!

Still mid its rare and verdant spots, that lie,

Like blessed isles, the desert waves among,

My wishes linger-like a fatherland.

Duke. Thy fatherland ?-where reigns th' apostate faith?
Bald. The true, alas! hath been to me a foe!

Duke (shuddering.) Almighty God!

Bald.

Duke.

What ails thee, Henry?

It is then true!-and I've no weapon here

To shield me from thy power.-Yes! praised be God!

[A pause.

Oh!

[Feels for his sword.

Bald. What have I done to thee? Wouldst kill me, Henry?
Duke (holding up the cross at the hilt of the sword.) Look here,
and tremble! 'tis that Cross's image

Which brought salvation!-oft as dying men
Have on it gazed in hope, gaze thou in fear!
Bald. Thou'rt sure distraught!

Duke.

Go, seek again the womb

Of Night that bare thee!-to my fated steps
Thou'st riveted the curse-since first I saw thee,

Peace hath forsworn my breast. Get thee from hence-
My curse on thee, and thine unhallow'd arts!

Bald. Thy curse ?—And hath nought whisper'd what I am?
Duke. I have seen through thee! Hope no more to hide

Thy purpose-By the Triune God,

On whom I trust, I curse thy works and ways!

Bald. Thou cursest me ?-then kill me!

Duke.

We've nought in common

Hence! avaunt!

Bald. (in an altered voice.) Nothing then in life

Shall drag me hence! O be a man, and kill me!

Duke. Alas! whence came those altered tones?-that voice Stirs like a dream my soul.

Bald.

Duke.

Slay me!

O take away then

Yon voice-that silenced, I'm a man, and dare
Ev'n hell defy, were its abyss before me.

But yonder accents have unmann'd me quite!

Bald. (tenderly.) And canst thou, notwithstanding, curse me still? Duke. I know not-though thou'rt sure an evil thing,

Once was yon voice an angel's!-if to her

Ye lure me thus, there must be paths to heav'n,

Through hell itself!

Bald.

God! do I understand thee?

Who waked such dark misgivings in thy soul?

Duke. Unclose thy visor.

Bald. (after a pause.) May gaze upon my brow.

No! there's none on earth

Bald. Nay, I must follow thee-a mightier power
Hath link'd our fates in adamantine chain."
In vain the church may fulminate-thy soul
I'll ne'er resign-'tis mine! I'll hold it fast,
Ev'n through eternity!

Duke.

Good angels! be my shield!
Bald. They shall not tear me from thee.
Duke.

Dost believe them?

Bald, Aye, that I do! and in that blessed Mary,
The Queen of heav'n, and holiest fount of love!
Duke. Believ'st thou God?-Day dawns in yonder east,

[Baldwin kneels.

Heaven's blessed light dispels the murky clouds.
By yon bright orb, the creature of his hand,
Dost thou believe in Him that rules the world?
Bald. (laying his hand on the hilt.) I own him in the dust!
[A pause, during which the daylight suddenly illumines the
theatre.

Duke (firmly.) Then do I trust thee!

Tedel. Henry! they come!-like a fast-swelling sea,

The hostile squadrons spread across the plain!

Duke (gazing keenly on the scene without.) Come on! come on!—

see yonder glittering helms

And corslets flashing in the morning ray!

See what an iron rampart closing shields

Have made! Hark how the hollow earth resounds

Beneath the moving wood of spears that heaves
Slowly towards us!-Swords are clashing too;
And in the morning wind from many a casque
Streams the dark pennon!-Oh! how free and light
Is my heart now! Life seems again a boon
Since it hangs on a die.-Hail, trumpet blast
And battle cry! On! for the rightful cause!

[Grasps his shield and sword. (A military song, with martial music, is heard.)

Duke (as inspired.) That strain was from our own!-all wakes to life,

On foaming steeds impatient riders bound!

The sun, like a bright banner, marshals us!

[He kneels, holding up his sword with clasped hands. (Rising.) God be with us! our fortress and our shield !— Now, friends, let's on-Victory here or yonder!