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Then we met in the garden, what except Known as our foc - but not from vengeance. iscovery in the act could make me know
He is 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 hen suminon'd, would the cry forthe police And our true destination - but not idly. een left to such a stranger? Or shonld I As stranger I preserved him, and he owed me ave loiter'd on the way? Or could you, His life; when due, I but resumed the debt. Werner,
He, you, and I stood o'er a gulf, wherein he object of the Baron's hate and fears, I have plunged our enemy. You kindled ave fled - unless by many an hour before
first uspicion woke? I sought and fathom'd you. The torch -- you show'd the path: now trace onbting if you were false or feeble; I
me that erceived you were the latter; and yet so of safety-or let me! monsiding have I found you, that I doubted! Siegend. I have done with life! t times your weakness.
Ulric. Let us have done with that which Siegend. Parricide! no less
cankers lifehan common stabber! What deed of my Familiar feuds and vain recriininations, life,
of things which cannot be undone. We have #r thought of mine, could make you deem No more to learn or hide: I know no fear, me fit
And have within these very walls men or your accomplice?
who Ulric. Father, do not raise
(Although you know them not) dare venChe devil you cannot lay, between us. This
ture all things. e time for union and for action, not You stand high with the state; what passes For family-disputes. While you were tor
Will not excite her too great curiosity: Could I be calm? Tbink you that I have Keep your own secret, kecp a steady eyo, heard
Stir not, and speak not; - leave the rest This fellow's tale without some feeling? yon
to me: Tave taught me feeling for you and myself; We must have no third babblers thrust For whom or what else did you ever teach it?
(Exit 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 stili!- If you condemn me, yet
tisans, Remember who hath taught ine once too It secins : I might have guess'd as much. often
Oh fool! To listen to him! Il'ho proclaim'd to me Wolves prowl in company. He hath the key l'hat 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 lurret, closing the door Who show'd me his humanity secured
after him. By his nerves only? Who deprived me of All power to vindicate jyself and race SCENE II.— The Interior of the Turret. In open day? By his disgrace which staip'd (It might be) bastardy on me, and on
GABOR and SUBGENDORF. Himself-a felon's brand! The man who is Gabor. Who calls ? At once both warin and weak, invites to Siegend. 1-Siegendorf! Take these, deeds
and fly! le longs to do, but dare not. 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
Gabor. What am I to do Upon 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 lost!
Gabor. You pledged your honour for Ulric. What! remain to be my safety!
| Denounced-dragg'd, it may be, In chatne; Siegend. And
and all Mast thus redeem it. Fly! I am not master, By your inherent weakness, half-humanity, It seems, of my own castle-of my own Selfish remorse, and temporising pity, Retainers-nay, even of these very walls, That sacrifices your whole race to save OrI 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 ?
Siegend. I never had one; Farewell, then! Recollect, however, Count, And would you ne'er had borne the uselesi 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 same 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 the 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 mine. And knew it ere yourself, unhappy sire! Siegend. The foresters! Farewell!
Erit Gabor. With whom the Hungarian found yon 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 scnators 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-seat, ncar 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. weapons drawn.
Josephine. What is't we hear? My SleUlrio. Despatch!--he's there!
gendorf! Ludwig. The Count, my Lord !
Thank Heaven, I see you safe! Ulrio (recognising Siegendorf). You Sicgend. Safe! here, Sir!
Ida. Yes, dear father! Siegend. Yes: if you want another victim, Sicgend. No, no; I have no children strike!
never more Ulric (secing him stript of his jcwels). Call me 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.
Sicgend. Idă, beware! there's blood [Exeunt all but Stralenheim and Ulric. upon that hand.
What's this? Ida (stooping to kiss it). I'd kiss it oli, 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 hear no more Of this: he must be found. You liave not Ida. Oh, great God! let him escape?
And I have loved this man ! Siegend. He's gonc.
[Ida falls senseless - Josephine standa Ulric. With your connivanced
specchless with horror. Siegend. With
Siegend. The wretch hath slain My fullest, freest aid.
Thcm beth!- my Josephino! we are not Ulric. Then fare you well!
alone! [Ulric is going. Would we had ever been so!-All is over Sicgend. Stop! I command-- cntrcut For me!-Now open wide, my sire, thy grave implore! Oh, Ulric!
Thy curse hath dug it decper for thy set Will you thon leave me?
in inine!--The race of Siegendorf is pas!
THE DEFORMED TRANSFORMED,
Spirits, Soldiers, Citizens of Rome, Priests, CELLINI.
TAs foolish hens at times hatch vipers, by
Sitting upon strange eggs. Out, urchin, out! SCENE I.--A Forest.
[Exit Bertha. Enter ARNOLD and his mother BERTIA.
Arnold (solus). Oh mother! - She is
gonc, and I must do Bertha. Out, hunchback!
Her bidding ;- wearily 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? hou Incabns! Thou Nightmare! Of seven [ Arnold begins to cut wood: in doing sons
this he wounds one of his hands. he sole abortion !
| My lahor for the day is over now. Arnold. Would that I had been so, Accursed be this blood that flows so fast; nd 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, ut as thou hast - hence, hence - and do
no kin, thy best.
No kind- not made like other creatures, or hat back of thine may bear its burthen; 'tis | To share their sports or pleasures. Must lore 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 listain that which you lay upon it, mother? Would rise a snake to sting them, as they love, or at the least, I loved you: nothing,
have stung me! Ive you, in nature, can love aught like me. Or that the devil, to whom they liken me, ou nursed me-do not kill mc.
Would aid his likeness! If I must partake Bertha. Yes-I nursed thee,
His form, why not his power? Is it becauso ecause 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 recon'there would be another unlike thee,
cile me hat monstrous sport of nature. But get Even to this hateful aspect. Let me wash hence,
The wound. nd gather wood!
[Arnold goes to a spring and stoops Arnold. I will: but when I bring it,
to wash his hand: he starts back. peak to me kindly. Though my brothers are They are right; and Nature's mirror beautiful and lasty, and as free
shows me 8 the free chase they follow, do not what she hath made me. I will not look spurn me:
on it or milk has been the same.
Again, and scarce dare think on't. Hideous Bertha. As is the hedgehog's,
wretch Thich sucks at midnight from the whole- That I am! The very waters mock me with some dam
My horrid shadow-like a demon placed the young bull, until the milkmaid finds Deep in the fountain to scare back the cattle be nipple next day sore and udder dry. From drinking therein. (He pauses, all not thy brothers brethren! Call me not
And shall I live on, olher; for if I brought thee forth, it was a burthcn to the earth, myself, and shame
Unto what brought me into life? Thon blood, You dcem, a single inoinent would bare Which flowest so freely from a scratch,
made you let me
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 ever with thyself Arnold. I said not On earth, to which I will restore at once You were the demon, but that your approach 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 him and you 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 nightshade 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 grcen 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 warmed With thy sublime of humps, the animale me, but
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 murmur
Nature's mistaken largess to bestov Of the near fountain my sole elegy. The gifts which are of others apon man Now, knife, stand firmly, as I fain would Arnold. Give me the strength then of fall !
the buffalo's foot,
the knife, his eye is suddenly caught Near enemy; or let me have the long
The helm-less dromedary; and I'll bear 'The fountain moves without a wind: but Thy fiendish sarcasm with a saintly patience 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 else! 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 macking? 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 al You may be devil.
thee, 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 pursue
Good service. Your purpose
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
Arnold. Oh! then you are indeed the The form of the Stoic demon, for
Or Sophist of yorenght else would wittingly wear mine. Or the shape of each Victor, Stranger. I'll show thee
From Macedon's boy e brightest which the world e'er bore, To each high Roman's picture, and give thee
Who breathed to destroyy choice.
Shadows of Beauty ! Arnold. On what condition ?
Shadows of Power! Stranger. There's a question !
Up to your dutyhour ago you would have given your soul
This is the hour! look like other inen, and now you pause
(Various Phantoms arise from the wear the form of heroes.
waters and pass in succession before Arnold. No; I will not.
the Stranger and Arnold. nust not compromise my soul.
Arnold. What do I see? Stranger. What soul,
Stranger. The black-eyed Roman, with orth 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 Romo which it is mislodged. But name your became compact:
His, and all theirs who heir'd his very name. ust it be signed in blood ?
Årnold. 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 ut I'll be moderate with you, for I see
more than hairs. reat 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 ut your own will, no contract save your Must be long sought and fought for.
Arnold. I will fight too, re you content?
But not as a mock-Cæsar. Let him pass; minold. 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 Cata'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. Ind 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?
Arnold. He is
More lovely than the last. How beautiful!
Stranger. Such was the curled son of
Clinias ;-wouldst thou
Invest thee with his form?
Arnold. Would that I had
I will look further.
(The Shade of Alcibiades disappears