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When we met in the garden, what except, known as our foc – but not from vengeanco. Discovery in the act could make me know

He lis death ? Or had the Prince's household Was a rock in our way, which I cut through, been

As doth the bolt, because it stood between us Then summon’d, would the cry forthe police And our true destination- but not idly. Been left to such a stranger? Or shonld I As stranger I preserved him, and he owed me Have loiter'd on the way? Or could you, His lifc; when due, I but resumed the debt. Werner,

He, you, and I stood o'er a gulf, wherein The object of the Baron's hate and fears. I have plunged our enemy. You kindled Have fled - unless by many an hour before

first Suspicion woke? I sought and fathom'd you- | The torch - you show'd thc path: now trace Donbting if you were false or feeble; I

me that
Perceived you were the latter; and yet so of safety-or let me!
Confiding have I found you, that I doubted Sicgend. I have done with life!
At times your weakness.

Ulric. Let us have done with that which Siegend. Parricide! no less

cankers lifeThan common stabber! What deed of my Familiar feuds and vain recriminations life,

Of things which cannot be undone. We have Or thought of mine, could make you decm No more to learn or hide: I know no fear, me fit

And have within these very walls men For your accomplice?

who Ulric. Father, do not raise

(Although you know them not) dare venThe devil you cannot lay, between us. This ture all things. Is time for union and for action, not You stand high with the state; what passes For family-disputes. While you were tor

here tured

Will not excite her too great curiosity : Could I be calm? Tbink you that I have Keep your own secret, keep a steady eyo, heard

Stir not, and speak not; - leave the rest This fellow's tale without some feeling? yon

to me: Have taught me feeling for you and myself; We must have no third babblers thrust For whom or what else did you ever teach it?

between us.

[Erit Ulric. Siegend. Oh! my dead father's curse! Siegend. (solus) Am I awake? are these 'tis working now.

my father's halls ? Ulric. Let it work on the grave will And yon-my son ? My son! mine! who keep it down!

have ever Ashes are feeble foes : it is more easy Abhorr’d both mystery and blood, and yet To baffle such, than countermine a molc, Am plunged into the deepest hell of both! Which winds its blind but living path I must be speedy, or more will be shedbeneath you.

The Hungarian's!-Ulric-he hath parYet hear me still!- If you condemn me, yet tisans, Remember who hath taught ine once too It secms: I might have guess'd as much. often

Oh fool! To listen to hiin! Il'ho proclaim'd to me Wolves prowl in company. He hath the key That there were crimes made venial by the (As I too) of the opposite door which leads occasion ?

Into the turret. Now then ! or once more That passion was our nature that the 'To be the father of fresh crimes -- no less goods

'Than of the criminal! Ho! Gabor! Gabor! Of heaven waited on the goods of fortune? (Exit into the turret, closing the door Who show'd me his humanity secured

after him. By his nerves only? U'ho deprived me of Ali

power to vindicate myself and race SCENE II.— The Interior of the Turret. In

open day? By his disgrace which staip'd (lt might be) bastardy on me, and on

GABOR and SIBGENDORP. - a felon's brand! The man who is Gabor. Who calls ? At once both warm and weak, invites to Siegend. 1-Siegendorf! Take these, deeds

and fly! He longs to do, but dare pot. Is it strange Lose not a moment! That I should act what you could think? [Tears off a diamond-star and other We have done

jewels, and thrusts them into Gabor's With right and wrong; and now must only

hand. ponder

Gabor. What am I to do l'pon effects, not causes.

Stralenheim, With these? Whose life I saved, from impulse,as,unknown, Siegend. Whate'er you will: sell them, I would have saved a peasant's or a dog's,

or hoard, And prosper; but delay not-or you are lool!


I slow,

Gabor. You pledged your honour for Ulric. What! remain to be my safety!

Denounced-dragg’d, it may be, In chatne; Siegcnd. And

and all Must thus redeem it. Fly! I am not master, By your inherent weakness, half-humanity, It seems, of my own castle-of my own Sellish remorse, and temporising pity, Retainers-nay, even of these very walls, That sacrifices your whole race to save Or I would bid them fall and crush me! Fly! A wretch to profit by our ruin! No, Count, Or you will be slain by

Henceforth you have no son! Gabor. Is it even so }

Sicgend. I never had one; Farewell, then! Recollect, however, Count, And would you ne'er had borne the useles You sought this fatal interview!

name! Siegend. I did :

Where will you go? I would not send you Let it not be more fatal still:-Begone!

forth Gabor. By the saine path I enter'd ? Without protection. Siegend. Yes; that's safe still :

Ulric. Leave that unto mo. But loiter not in Prague ;- you do not I am not alone; nor merely tho vain het know

Of your domains: a thousand, ay, ten With whom you have to deal.

thousand Gabor. I know too well

Swords, hearts, and hands, are minc.
And knew it ere yourself, unhappy sire ! Siegend. The foresters!

]Exit Gabor. With whom the Hungarian found you first Siegend. (solus and listening) He hath

at Frankfort ? clear'd the staircase. Ah! I hear Ulric. Yes - men—who are worthy of The door sound loud behind him! He is

the name! Go tell safe!

Your senators that they look well to Prague; Safe!-Oh, my father's spirit!-I am faint-Their feast of peace was early for the times;

(He leans down upon a stone-scal, near There are more spirits abroad than have the wall of the Tower, in a drooping

been laid posiure.

With Wallenstein ! Enter ULRIC, with others armed, and with

Enter JOSEPHINE and Ida. weavons drawn.

Josephine. What is't wc hear? My SleUlrio. Despatch!-he's there!

gendorf! Ludwig. The Count, my Lord !

Thank Heaven, I see you safe! Ulrio (recognising Siegendorf). You Siegend. Safe! here, Sir!

Ida. Yes, dear father! Sicgend. Yes: if you want another victim, Sicgend. No, no; I have no children: strike!

never moro Ulric (seeing him stript of his jewels). Call ine by that worst name of parent. Where is the ruffian who bath plunder'd you? Josephine. What Vassals, despatch in search of him! You see Means my good Lord ? 'Twas as I said- the wretch hath stript my Sicgcnd. That you have given birth father

To a demon! Of jewels which might form a prince's Ida (taking Ulric's hand). Who shall heirdom!

dare say this of Ulric? Away! I'll follow you forthwith.

Siegend. Ida, beware! there's blood (Freunt all but Stralcnheim and Ulric.

upon that hand.

What's this? Ida (stooping to kiss it). I'd kiss it off, Where is the villain?

though it were mine!
Siegend. There are two, sir; which Siegend. It is so!
Are you in quest of?

Ulric. Away! it is your father's!
Ulric. Let us hcar no more
Of this: he must be found. You have not Ida. Oh, great God!
let him escape?

And I have loved this man !

(Ida falls senseless - Josephine stands Ulric. With your connivance

speechless with horror. Sicgend. With

Siegend. The wretch hath slain My fullest, freest aid.

Them bath!- my Josephino! we are now Ulric. Then fare you well!

alone! [Ulric is going. Would we had ever been so!-All is over Sirgend. Stop! I cominand- entreat For me!--Now open wide, my sire, thy grave implore! Oh, Ulrie!

Thy curse hath dug it deeper for thy somn Will you thon louve me?

Ho inine!--The race of Sickendorf is past!

[Esit Liric

He's gone.

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As foolish hens at times hatch vipers, by

Sitting upon strange eggs. Out, urchin, out! SCENE 1.- A Forcst.

(Exit Bertha. Enter ARNOLD and his mother BERTUA.

Arnold (solus). Oh mother! - She is

gonc, and I must do Bertha. Our, hunchback!

Her bidding ;- wcarily but willingly Arnold. I was born so, mother!

I would fulfil it, could I only hope Bertha. Out!

A kind word in return. What shall I do? Tbou Incabus! Thou Nightmare! Of soven (Arnold begins to cut wood : in doing

this he wounds one of his hands. The sole abortion !

My labour for the day is over now. Arnold. Would that I had been so, Accursed be this blood that flows so fast; And never seen the light!

For double curses will be my meed now Bertha. I would so too!

At home.-- What home? I have no home, But as thou hast - hence, hence -- and do

no kin, thy best.

No kind-not made like other crcatures, or That back of thine may bear its burthen; 'tis To share their sports or pleasures. Must More high, if not so broad as that of others. I bleed too Arnold. It bears its burthen ;-but, my Like them? Oh that each drop which falls heart! Will it

to earth Sastain that which you lay upon it, mother? Would rise a snake to sting them, as they I love, or at the least, I loved you: nothing, have stung ine ! Save you, in nature, can loveäught liko me. Or that the devil, to whom they liken me, You nursed me-do not kill me.

Would aid his likeness! If I must partako Bertha. Yes-I nursed thee,

His form, why not his power? Is it because Becanse thou wert my first-born, and I I have not his will too'? For one kind word knew not

From her who bore me, would still reconIf there would be another unlike thec,

cile me That monstrous sport of nature. But get Even to this hateful aspect. Let me wash hence,

The wound. And gather wood !

(Arnold goes to a spring and stoops Arnold. I will : but when I bring it,

to wash his hand: he starts back, Speak to me kindly. Though my brothers are They are right; and Nature's mirror So beautiful and lusty, and as free

shows inc As the free chase they follow, do not what she hath mado me. I will not look

spurn me : Our milk has been the same.

Again, and scarce dare think on't. Hideous Bertha. As is the hedgehog's,

wretch Which sucks at midnight from the whole- That I am! The very waters mock me with some dam

My horrid shadow - like a demon placed of the young bull, until the milkmaid finds Deep in the fountain to scare back the cattle I'he nipple next day sore and udder dry. From drinking therein.

[lle pauses. Call not thy brothers brethren! Call me not

And shall I live on, Moiher; for if I brought thce forth, it was A burthen to the earth, myself, and shame

on it

made you

let me

me, but


Unto what brought me into life? Thou blood, You dcem, a single moment would bare Which flowest so freely from a scratch,

Mine, and for ever, by your suicide; Try if thou wilt not in a fuller stream And yet my coming saves you. Pour forth my woes for cver with thyself Arnold. I said not On earth, to which I will restore at once You were the demon, but that your approarh This hateful compound of her atoms, and was like one. Resolve back to her elements, and take Stranger. Unless you keep company The shape of any reptile save myself, With himn (and yon seem scarce used to And make a world for myriads of new

such high worms!

Society) you can't tell how he approaches; This knife! now let me prove if it will sever And for his aspect, look upon the fountais. This wither'd slip of nature's nightshado And then on me, and judge which of us my

twain Vile form - from the creation, as it hath Looks likest what the boors believe to be The green bough from the forest.

Their cloven-footed terror.
(Arnold places the knife in the ground, Arnold. Do you - dare you
with the point upwards.

To taunt me with my born deformity?

Now 'tis set, Stranger. Were I io taunt a buffalo with And I can fall upon it. Yet one glance

this On the fair day, which secs no foul thing like Cloven foot of thine, or the swift dromedary Myself, and the sweet sun, which warned With thy sublime of humps, the animals

Would revel in the compliment. And yet In vain. The birds – how joyously they sing! Both beings are more swift, more strong, So let them, for I would not be lamented :

more mighty But let their merriest notes be Arnold's In action and endurance than thyself, knell;

And all the fierce and fair of the same kind The falling leaves my monument; the With thee. Thy form is natural: 'twas only

Nature's mistaken largess to bestov Of the near fountain my sole elegy. The gifts which are of others upon man. Now, knife, stand firmly, as I fain would Arnold. Give me the strength then of fall!

the buffalo's foot,
(As he rushes to throw himself upon When he spurns high the dust, beholding his

the knife, his eye is suddenly caught Near enemy; or let me have the long
by the fountain, which seems in And patient swiftness of the desert-ship,

The helm-less dromedary ;--and I'll bear 'Tho fountain moves without a wind: but Thy fiendish sarcasm with a saintly patiesce shall

Stranger. I will. The ripple of a spring change my resolve? Arnold (with surprise). Thou canst? No. Yet it moves again! The waters stir, Stranger. Perhaps. Would you aught ele! Not as with air, but by some subterrane Arnold. Thout mockest me. And rocking power of the internal world. Stranger. Not I. Why should I mock What's here ? A mist! No more?

What all are mocking? That's poor sport [A cloud comes from the fountain. He

methinks. stands gazing upon it: it is dis- To talk to thee in human language (for pelled, and a tall black man comes Thou canst not yet speak mine), the forester towards him.

Hunts not the wretched coney, but the bear, Arnold. What would you ? Speak! Or wolf, or lion, leaving paltry game Spirit or man?

To petty burghers, who leave once a year Stranger. As man is both, why not Their walls, to fill their household-calSay both in one?

drons with Arnold. Your form is man's, and yet Such scullion-prey. The meanest gibe af Yon may be devil.

thec,Stranger. So many men are that Now I can mock the mightiest. Which is so called or thought, that you Arnold. Then waste not may add me

Thy time on me: I seek thee not. To which you please, without much wrong Stranger. Your thoughts to either.

Are not far from me. Do not send me back: But come: you wish to kill yourself;- I am not so easily recalled to do purslie

Good service.

Arnold. What wilt thou do for me? Arnold. You have interrupted me. Stranger. Change Stranger. What is that resolution which Shapes with you, if you will, since your can e'er

so irks you; Be interrupted? If I be the devil

Or form you to your wish in any shape

Your purpose.

Arnold. Oh! then you are indeed the The form of the Stoic demon, for

Or Sophist of yore. Nought else would wittingly wear mine. Or the shape of each Victor, Stranger. I'll show thee

From Macedon's boy The brightest which the world e'er bore, To each high Roman's picture, and give thee

Who breathed to destroyThy choice.

Shadows of Beauty ! Arnold. On what condition ?

Shadows of Power! Stranger. There's a question !

Up to your dutyAn hour ago you would have given your soul

This is the hour! To look like other men, and now you pause [Various Phantoms arise from the To wear the form of heroes.

waters and pass in succession before Arnold. No; I will not.

the Stranger and Arnold. I must not compromise my soul.

Arnold. What do I see? Stranger. What soul,

Stranger. The black-eyed Roman, with Worth naming so, would dwell in such a The cagle's beak between those eyes which carcass?

ne'er Arnold. Tis an aspiring one, whate'er Beheld a conqueror, or look'd along the tenement

The land he made not Rome's, while Rumo In which it is mislodged. But name your became compact:

His, and all theirs who heir'd his very name. Must it be signed in blood ?

Arnold. The Phantom's bald ; my quest Stranger. Not in your own.

is beauty. Could I Arnold. Whose blood then ?

Inherit but his fame with his defects! Stranger. We will talk of that hereafter. Stranger. His brow was girt with laurels But I'll be moderate with you, for I see

more than hairs. Great things within you. You shall have You see his aspect-choose it or reject. no bond

I can but promise you his form; his fame But your own will, no contract save your Must be long sought and fought for. deeds.

Arnold. I will fight too, Are you content?

But not as a mock-Cæsar. Let him pass; Arnold. I take thee at thy word. His aspect may be fair, but snits me not. Stranger. Now then !

Stranger. Then you are far more diffi(The Stranger approaches the fountain, cult to please and turns to Arnold.

Than Cato's sister, or than Brutus' mother, A little of your blood, Or Cleopatra at sixteen-an age Arnold. For what?

When love is not less in the eye than heart. Stranger. To mingle with the magic But be it so! Shadow, pass on ! of the waters,

(The Phantom of Julius Cæsar disappears. And make the charm effective.

Arnold. And can it Arnold (holding out his wounded arm). Be, that the man who shook the earth is Take it all.

gone Stranger. Not now. A few drops will And left no footstep? suffice for this.

Stranger. There you err. His substanco [The Stranger takes some of Arnold's Left graves enough, and woes enough, and blood in his hand, and casts it into

fame the fountain.

More than enough to track his memory; Shadows of Beauty!

But for his shadow, 'tis no more than yours, Shadows of Power!

Except a little longer and less crooked Rise to your duty

l' the sun. Behold another ! This is the hour!

(A second Phantom passes. Walk lovely and pliant

Arnold. Who is he?
From the depth of this fountain, Stranger. He was the fairest and the
As the cloud-shapen giant

brayest of
Bestrides the Hartz-mountain. Athenians. Look upon him well.
Come as ye were,

Arnold. He is
That onr eyes may behold More lovely than the last. How beantiful!
The model in air

Stranger. Such was the curled sop of
Of the form I will mould,

Clinias ;-wouldst thou
Bright as the Iris

Invest thee with his form ?
When ether is spann'd;-

Arnold. Would that I had
Such his desire is, (Pointing to Arnold. Been born with it! But since I may choose
Such my command !

Demons heroic--

I will look further.
Demons who wore

[The Shade of Alcibiades disappears

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