[BETHLEN retires. BETHLEN (who had overheard the last few words, now

Moon-calves, credulous girl
Haply some o'ergrown savage of the forest
Hath his lair there, and fear hath framed the rest.
[Then speaking again to Bethlen.

After that last great battle (O young man!
Thou wakest anew my life's sole anguish), that
Which fix'd Lord Emerick on his throne, Bathory
Led by a cry, far inward from the track,

In the hollow of an old oak, as in a nest,
Did find thee, Bethlen, then a helpless babe:
The robe, that wrapt thee, was a widow's mantle.

BETHLEN.

An infant's weakness doth relax my frame.
O say-I fear to ask————

I would that you could weep like me! O do not
Gaze so upon the air!

SAROLTA (continuing the story).
While he was absent,

A friendly troop, 't is certain, scour'd the wood,
Hotly pursued indeed by Emerick.

That strain'd towards the babe. At length one arm To that appointed place, which I must seek :

Painfully from her own weight disengaging,

She pointed first to Heaven, then from her bosom

Drew forth a golden casket. Thus entreated

Thy foster-father took thee in his arms,

Or else she were my mother!

SAROLTA.

Noble youth! From me fear nothing! Long time have I owed

And, kneeling, spake: If aught of this world's com- Offerings of expiation for misdeeds
fort

Can reach thy heart, receive a poor man's troth,
That at my life's risk I will save thy child!

Long pass'd that weigh me down, though innocent.
Thy foster-father hid the secret from thee,
For he perceived thy thoughts as they expanded,

Her countenance work'd, as one that seem'd pre- Proud, restless, and ill-sorting with thy state!

Vain was his care! Thou 'st made thyself suspected
E'en where Suspicion reigns, and asks no proof
But its own fears! Great Nature hath endow'd thee
With her best gifts! From me thou shalt receive
All honorable aidance! But haste hence!
Travel will ripen thee, and enterprise
Beseems thy years! Be thou henceforth my soldier!
And whatsoe'er betide thee, sull believe
That in each noble deed, achieved or suffer'd,
Thou solvest best the riddle of thy birth!

And then, perchance, I might have power to unbosom
These thanks that struggle here. Eyes fair as thine
Have gazed on me with tears of love and anguish,
Which these eyes saw not, or beheld unconscious;
And tones of anxious fondness, passionate prayers,
Have been talk'd to me! But this tongue ne'er
soothed

A mother's ear, lisping a mother's name!
O, at how dear a price have I been loved,
And no love could return! One boon then, lady!
Where'er thou bidd'st, I go thy faithful soldier,
But first must trace the spot, where she lay bleeding
Who gave me life. No more shall beast of ravine
. Affront with baser spoil that sacred forest!

Or if avengers more than human haunt there,
Take they what shape they list, savage or heavenly,
They shall make answer to me, though my heart's

blood

Nay, that's too late, man
Say, what thy mother and thy godfather
Were pleased to call thee?

LASKA.

Laska, my liege Sovereign

EMERICK.

Well, my liege subject Laska! And you are
Lord Casimir's steward?

LASKA.

And your majesty's creature

EMERICK.

Two gentle dames made off at our approach.
Which was your lady?

LASKA.

My liege lord, the taller The other, please your grace, is her poor handmaid Long since betrothed to me. But the maid's froward

Yet would your grace but speak

EMERICK.

Hum, master steward
I am honor'd with this sudden confidence.
Lead on.

[TO LASKA, then to RUDOLPH
Lord Rudolph, you'll announce our coming
Greet fair Sarolta from me, and entreat her
To be our gentle hostess. Mark, you add
How much we grieve, that business of the state
Hath forced us to delay her lord's return.

LORD RUDOLPH (aside).
Lewd, ingrate tyrant! Yes, I will announce thee.

Now onward all.

A fair one, by my faith!
If her face rival but her gait and stature,
My good friend Casimir had his reasons too.

Her tender health, her vow of strict retirement,
Made early in the convent-His word pledged-"
All fictions, all! fictions of jealousy.

Well! if the mountain move not to the prophet,
The prophet must to the mountain! In this Laska
There's somewhat of the knave mix'd up with dolt
Through the transparence of the fool, methought
I saw (as I could lay my finger on it)
The crocodile's eye, that peer'd up from the bottom
This knave may do us service. Hot ambition
Won me the husband. Now let vanity
And the resentment for a forced seclusion
Decoy the wife! Let him be deem'd the aggressor
Whose tunning and distrust began the game!

savage wood. At one side a cavern, overhung with ivy. ZAPOLYA and RAAB KIUPRILI discovered: both, but especially the latter, in rude and savage This wood as in a scene? this very cavern? garments.

Did my importunate prayers, my hopes and fancies,It is a maiden's voice! quick to the cave!

Force thee from thy secure though sad retreat?

Would that my tongue had then cloven to my mouth! Hark! her voice falters!

But Heaven is just! With tears I conquer'd thee,
And not a tear is left me to repent with!
Iladst thou not done already-hadst thou not
Suffer'd-oh, more than e'er man feign'd of friend-
ship?

Even till this morning?

[GLYCINE leaves the provisions, and exit fearfully. This morning? when my weak faith fail'd me wholly KIUPRILI comes forward, seizes them and carries Pardon, O thou that portion'st out our sufferance, them into the cavern. GLYCINE returns, having And fill'st again the widow's empty cruse! recovered herself.

GLYCINE.

Shame! Nothing hurt me!

Say on!

GLYCINE.

The false ones charged the valiant youth If some fierce beast have gored him, he must needs With treasonous words of EmerickSpeak with a strange voice. Wounds cause thirst

and hoarseness!

Speak, Bethlen! or but moan. St-St-No-Bethlen!
If I turn back, and he should be found dead here,
[She creeps nearer and nearer to the cavern.
I should go mad!-Again! "T was my own heart!
Hush, coward heart! better beat loud with fear,
Than break with shame and anguish !

ZAPOLYA.

Saints protect me!

RAAB KIUPRILI.

[As she approaches to enter the cavern, KIUPRILI stops her. GLYCINE shrieks.

Ha! my son!

ZAPOLYA and RAAB KIUPRILI.
Who?

Not much

My own dear lady, when I was a child
Embraced me oft, but her heart never beat so.
For I too am an orphan, motherless!

RAAB KIUPRILI (to ZAPOLYA).
O yet beware, lest hope's brief flash but deepen
The after gloom, and make the darkness stormy!
In that last conflict, following our escape,
The usurper's cruelty had clogg'd our fligh:
With many a babe, and many a childing mother.
This maid herself is one of numberless
Planks from the same vast wreck.

[Then to GLYCINE agath
Well! Casimir's wife-.

GLYCINE.

She is always gracious, and so praised the old man
That his heart o'erflow'd, and made discovery
That in this wood-