De Mon. Well, I am ready, sir. De Mon. (catching hold of her with a look of horror.) Not there-not there-the corpse (Approaching Jane, whom the Abbess is endeavouring to comfort, but to no purpose.) Jane. What, lies he there?-Unhappy Rezen-Ah! wherefore thus! most honour'd and most dear? velt? Shrink not at the accoutrements of ill, De Mon. A sudden thought has come across my Daring the thing itself. mind; How came it not before? Unhappy Rezenvelt! Sayst thou but this? (Endeavouring to look cheerful.) Wilt thou permit me with a gyved hand? (She gives her hand, which he raises to his lips.) Jane. What should I say? he was an honest This was my proudest office. man; I still have thought him such, as such lament him. [EXEUNT, De Monfort leading out Jane. ING INTO ANOTHER ROOM, WHOSE LOW, ARCHED IN (De Monfort utters a deep groan.) SCENE V.-AN APARTMENT IN THE CONVENT, OPENWhat means this heavy groan? De Mon. It hath a meaning. Enter ABBESS and MONKS, with two OFFICERS of justice carrying fetters in their hands to put upon DE MONFORT. Jane. (starting.) What men are these? 1st Off. Lady, we are the servants of the law, And bear with us a power, which doth constrain To bind with fetters this our prisoner. (Pointing to De Monfort.) Jane. A stranger uncondemn'd? this cannot be. 1st Off. As yet, indeed, he is by law unjudged, But is so far condemn'd by circumstance, That law, or custom sacred held as law, Doth fully warrant us, and it must be. Jane. Nay, say not so; he has no power t' escape: Distress hath bound him with a heavy chain; There is no need of yours. 1st Off. We must perform our office. Jane. O do not offer this indignity! 1st Off. Is it indignity in sacred law Enter another Monk, who, on perceiving him, stops till he rises from his knees, and then goes eagerly up to him. 1st Monk. How is the prisoner? 2d Monk. (pointing to the door.) He is within, and the strong hand of death Is dealing with him. 1st Monk. How is this, good brother? 2d Monk. Yes, with heroic courage, for a while To bind a murderer? (To 2d Officer.) Come, do thy God grant his pains be short! It is a dark and fearful night: the moon De Mon. (to Jane.) Stand thou erect in native Is wrapp'd in sable clouds; the chill blast sounds dignity; And bend to none on earth the suppliant knee, And, if they are too light, bring heavier chains. Like dismal lamentations. Ay, who knows (A long pause, whilst they put irons upon him. 1st Off. I have it, too, in charge to move you hence, (To De Monfort.) Into another chamber more secure. (A groan heard within.) 1st Monk. It is the dying man. 2d Monk. God grant him rest! (Another groan.) (Listening at the door.) With all its pangs and horrors I have seen, I would move hence, but I am weak and faint: (Leans on second Monk: a pause.) Enter BERNARD from the chamber. 2d Monk. (to Bern.) How is your penitent? The soul of man: before whose awful presence (Bell tolls.) The dismal sound! Retire and pray for the blood-stain'd soul: Enter MANUEL and JEROME. Man. (pointing.) Here, my good Jerome, here's a piteous sight. Jer. A piteous sight! yet I will look upon him: I'll see his face in death. Alas, alas! I've seen him move a noble gentleman; And when with vexing passion undisturb'd, He look'd most graciously. (Lifts up in mistake the cloth from the body of Rezenvelt, and starts back with horror.) Oh! this was the bloody work! Oh, oh oh, oh ! That human hands could do it! (Drops the cloth again.) Man. That is the murder'd corpse; here lies De Monfort. (Going to uncover the other body.) Jer. (turning away his head.) No, no! I cannot look upon him now. Man. Didst thou not come to see him? cover him-inter him in the darkLet no one look upon him. Bern. (To Jer.) Well dost thou show the ab horrence nature feels For deeds of blood, and I commend thee well. In the most ruthless heart compassion wakes May heaven have mercy on him! (Bell tolls again.) For one, who, from the hand of fellow man, [EXEUNT. SCENE VI.-A HALL OR LARGE ROOM IN THE CONVENT. THE BODIES OF DE MONFORT AND REZENVELT ARE DISCOVERED LAID OUT UPON A LOW TABLE OR PLATFORM, COVERED WITH BLACK. FREBERG, BERNARD, ABBESS, MONKS, AND NUNS ATTENDING. Hath felt such cruelty. (Uncovering the body of Rezen velt.) This is the murder'd corse : (Uncovering the body of De Monfort) Here lies the murderer. What think'st thou here? Abb. (to Freb.) Here must they lie, my lord, With the last dreadful conflict of despair, until we know Respecting this the order of the law. Freb. And you have wisely done, my reverend mother. So fix'd in horrid strength. See those knit brows; those hollow sunken eyes; (Goes to the table, and looks at the bodies, but In agony, to gnash the nether lip. without uncovering them.) Unhappy men! ye, both in nature rich, Ye should have loved, yet deadly rancour came, Think'st thou, less painful than the murderer's knife Was such a death as this Ay, and how changed too those matted locks! Jer. Merciful heaven! his hair is grisly grown, Changed to white age, that was, but too days since, Black as the raven's plume. How may this be? Bern. Such change, from violent conflict of the mind, Will sometimes come. Jer. Alas, alas! most wretched! Whom heaven commands to love? Low are ye Thou wert too good to do a cruel deed, laid: And so it kill'd thee. Thou hast suffer'd for it. God rest thy soul! I needs must touch thy hand, And bid thee long farewell. (Laying his hand on De Monfort.) Bern. Draw back, draw back; see where the lady comes. Enter JANE DE MONFORT. (Freberg, who has been for some time retired by himself to the bottom of the stage, now steps forward to lead her in, but checks himself on seeing the fixed sorrow of her countenance, and draws back respectfully. Jane advances to the table, and looks attentively at the covered bodies. Manuel points out the body of De Monfort, and she gives a gentle inclination of the head, to signify that she understands him. She then bends tenderly over it, without speaking. Man. (to Jane, as she raises her head.) O, madam! my good lord. Jane. Well says thy love, my good and faithful Manuel; But we must mourn in silence. Man. Alas! the times that I have follow'd him! Jane. Forbear, my faithful Manuel. For this love Thou hast my grateful thanks; and here's my hand: Thou hast loved him, and I'll remember thee. Man. Nay, by the living God! where'er you are, (Throwing himself at her feet.) Jane. (raising him.) Well, then! be thou my servant, and my friend. Art thou, good Jerome, too, in kindness come? Jer. Ah, madam! wo and weakness dwell with age: Man. (to Off.) Hold thy unrighteous tongue, or hie thee hence, Nor, in the presence of this honour'd dame, 1st Off. I am an officer on duty call'd, And have authority to say, "How died he?" (Here Jane shakes off the weakness of grief, and repressing Manuel, who is about to reply to the Officer, steps forward with dignity.) Jane. Tell them, by whose authority you come, He died that death which best becomes a man Who is with keenest sense of conscious ill And deep remorse assail'd, a wounded spirit: A death that kills the noble and the brave, And only them. He had no other wound. 1st Off. And shall I trust to this? Jane. Do as thou wilt: To one who can suspect my simple word I have no more reply. Fulfil thine office. 1st Off. No, lady, I believe your honoured word, And will no further search. Jane. I thank your courtesy: thanks, thanks to all. My reverend mother, and ye honour'd maids; Would I could serve you with a young man's And now I have a sad request to make, strength! I'd spend my life for you. Jane. Freb. In every sensible and generous breast And even a worship pays. Jane. Nay, Freberg, Freberg! grieve me not, my friend. He to whose ear my praise most welcome was, The voice of praise was wont to name us both; (Covers her face with her hands, and bursts into tears. Here they all hang about her: Freberg supporting her tenderly. Manual embracing her knees, and old Jerome catching hold of her robe affectionately. Bernard, Abbess, Monks, and Nuns, likewise, gather round her, with looks of sympathy.) Into our hands he straight must be consign'd. Bern. He is not subject now to human laws; The prison that awaits him is the grave. Enter SULPICIUS and ORCERES by opposite sides. Sul. So soon return'd!--I read not in thy face 1st Off. Ha! say'st thou so? there is foul play in Aught to encourage or depress my wishes. this. How is it, noble friend? Orc. E'en as it was e'er I received my mission. Cordenius Maro is on public duty; I have not seen him.-When he knows your offer His heart will bound with joy, like eaglet plumed Whose out-stretch'd pinions wheeling round and round, Shape their first circles in the sunny air. Sul. And with good cause. Orc. Methinks I see him now! A face with blushes mantling to the brow, Sul. His face, indeed, as I have heard thee say, step, As tenderness gives way to exultation! O it had been a feast to look upon him; And still shall be. Sul. Art thou so well convinced He loves my little damsel? she is fair, To all my wealth, had I suspected sooner, Orc. Thou scarcely know'st! Say certainly thou He is, to honest right, as simply true Sul. But is the public duty very urgent, Orc. The punishment of those poor Nazarenes, Who, in defiance of imperial power, To their forbidden faith and rites adhere Sul. A stubborn contumacy unaccountable! But be it what it may, or good or ill, Sul. Cease; here comes Portia, with a careless She knows not yet the happiness that waits her. I knew not you were here; but yet I guess Orc. How can it fail, fair Portia, so commended? Por. That tune, my father, Which you so oft have tried to recollect; SONG. The storm is gathering far and wide, Yon mortal hero must abide. Power on earth, and power in air, And so, indeed, thou takest thy stand, Full nobly harness'd for the fight. Orc. The picture of some very noble hero These lines portray. Sul. So it should seem; one of the days of old. Por. And why of olden days? There liveth now The very man-a man-I mean to say, There may be found amongst our Roman youth, One, who in form and feelings may compare With him whose lofty virtues these few lines So well describe. Orc. Thou mean'st the lofty Gorbus. Por. Out on the noisy braggart! Arms without He hath, indeed, well burnish'd and well plumed, But the poor soul, within, is pluck'd and bare, Like any homely thing. Orr. Sertorius Galba then? For if he hath no lack of courage, certes, Orc. Perhaps thou mean'st Cordenius Maro, lady. Thy cheeks grow scarlet at the very name, Indignant that I still should err so strangely. Por. No, not indignant, for thou errest not; Nor do I blush, albeit thou think'st I do, To say, there is not of our Romans one, Whose martial form a truer image gives Of firm, heroic courage. Sul. Cease, sweet Portia ; He only laughs at thy simplicity. Orc. Simplicity seen through a harmless wile, Like to the infant urchin, half conceal'd Behind his smiling dam's transparent veil. The song is not a stranger to mine ear, Methinks I've heard it, passing through those wilds, Whose groves and caves, if rumour speak the truth, Are by the Nazarenes or Christians haunted. Sul. Let it no more be sung within my walls: A chant of theirs to bring on pestilence! Sing it no more. What sounds are those I hear? Orc. The dismal death-drum and the without. crowd Look on them as they pass? Por. No; go not, child: "Twill frighten thee; it is a horrid sight. Page. Yet, and it please you, lady, let me go. Por. I say it is a horrid, piteous sight, Thou wilt be frighten'd at it. Page. Nay, be it e'er so piteous or so horrid, I have a longing, strong desire to see it. Officers and Soldiers still remaining; the Officers on the front, and Cordenius apart from them in a thoughtful posture.) First Offi. Brave Varus marches boldly at the head Of that deluded band. Second Offi. Are these the men, who hateful orgies hold In dens and deserts, courting, with enchantments, The intercourse of demons? Third Offi. Ay, with rites Third Offi. I can believe all this or any thing First Offi. What demonry, thinkest thou, possesses Varus ? Second Offi. That is well urged. (To the other.) Alas, that I should see so brave a soldier First Offi. Viewing his keen, enliven'd coun He is a man, who makes a show of valour Ne'er fronted foe, or closed in bloody strife. (Turning away angrily to the back ground.) First Offi. Our chief, methinks, is in a fretful mood, Which is not usual with him. Second Offi. He did not seem to listen to our words. But see he gives the signal to proceed; Por. Go, then; there is in this no affectation: There's all the harden'd cruelty of man Lodged in that tiny form, child as thou art. [EXEUNT, severally. SCENE II.-AN OPEN SQUARE WITH BUILDINGS. Enter CORDENIUS MARO, at the head of his SOLDIERS, who draw up on either side: then enters along procession of public Functionaries, &c. conducting MARTYRS to the place of execution, who, as they pass on, sing together in unison: one more noble than the others, SCENE III.walking first. SONG. A long farewell to sin and sorrow, To beam of day and evening shade! While mortal flesh in flame is bleeding, We leave the hated and the hating. The great, the good, the brave are waiting Earth's fated sounds our ears forsaking, [EXEUNT Martyrs, &c. &c. Cordenius with his [EXEUNT in order, whilst a chorus of Martyrs is heard at a distance.) -AN APARTMENT IN A PRIVATE HOUSE. Enter two CHRISTIAN WOMEN, by opposite sides. First Wom. Hast thou heard any thing? Second Wom. Naught, save the murmur of the multitude, Sinking at times to deep and awful silence, The town appearing uninhabited. But wherefore art thou here? Thou should'st have stay'd With the unhappy mother of poor Cælus. First Wom. She sent me hither in her agony Of fear and fearful hope. Second Wom. Ha! does she hope deliverance from death? |