their noses out at the window. Though far distant, and a slave, let me live in thy heart as thou livest in mine:-think not, O friend of my soul, that the splendors of this luxurious capital, its gorgeous palaces, its stupendous mosques, and the beautiful females who run wild in herds about its streets, can obliterate thee from my remembrance. Thy name shall be mentioned in the five-and-twenty prayers which I offer up daily; and may our great prophet, after bestowing on thee all the blessings of this life, at length, in a good old age, lead thee gently by the hand, to enjoy the dignity of bashaw of three tails in the blissful bowers of Eden. MUSTAPHA. TRAGEDY. MEN. ORRA.-JOANNA BAILLIE. Persons of the Drama. HUGHOBERT, Count of Aldenberg. RUDIGERE, a Knight, and Comman- FRANKO, Chief of a band of Out- MAURICE, an agent of Rudigere's. ORRA, Heiress of another branch of ELEANORA, wife to Hughobert. SCENE-Switzerland, in the Canton of Basle, and afterwards in the borders of the Black Forest, in Suabia. TIME-towards the end of the Fourteenth Century. ACT 1.—Scene 1.—An open space before the walls of a castle, with wild mountains beyond it. (Enter Glottenbal, armed as from the lists, but bare-headed and disordered, whilst an attendant follows bearing a helmet; with him enters Maurice, followed by Rudigere, also armed, who keeps by himself.) Glot. (Speaking loud and boastfully.) Aye, let him triumph in his paltry honors, Won by mere trick and accident. Good faith! It were a shame to call it strength or skill. Were it not Rudigere? (Rudigere answers not.) Maur. His brow is dark, his tongue is locked, my lord There come no words from him; he bears it not So manfully as thou dost, noble Glottenbal. Glot. Fy on't! I mind it not. Maur. And wherefore should'st thou ? This same Theobold, Count and Co-burgher-mixture most unseemly What powers assist him? Marked you not, my lord, When first he mounted; making his fierce steed, Its mained crest, like one who made obeisance. Maur. Yes, brave Glottenbal, I did right truly; and besides myself, Glot. Well let him boast. Boasting I scorn; but I will shortly shew him What these good arms, with no foul play against them, Can honestly achieve. Maur. Yes, good my lord; but choose you well your day: A moonless Friday luck did never bring To honest combatant. Glot. Ha! blessing on thee! I ne'er thought of this: Be sure thou tell to every one thou meet'st, Friday and a slack moon suit Theobold. Glot. Is he not crest-fallen ? Maur. He lacks your noble spirit. I heed it not. Yet by my sword and spurs! (Exit.) (Enter Theobold with a green sprig in his helmet.) Glot. Comest thou to face me so? Audacious burgher, The Lady Orra's favor suits thee not, Tho' for a time thou hast upon me gained A seeming vantage. Theo. A seeming vantage! Then it is not true, Glot. Off with thy taunts! And pull that sprig from its audacious perch: Theo. Too high, indeed, and had'st thou also added Yet, be it known unto your courteous worth, That were the sprig a queen's gift, or received Glot. Then I will have it. (Snatching at it in rage.) Hart. What! Malice after fighting in the lists Glot. Go, paltry Banneret! Such friends as thou I know ye well, and I defy ye both. (Exit.) Whom sordid and ambitious Hughobert, She will submit to it? But think'st thou Saving this favor, Hart. That may be as thou pleasest, Falkenstein. Hart, Wait not thou for looks. Theo. Thou would'st not have me, to a dame like this, Hart. Yes, Theobold of Frankenstein, I will, I'll give her in return for all that she, Or any maid can in such barter give, Its fair and ample worth. Theo. Hart. So thou dost reckon. And so will Orra. Do not shake thy head. I've fairer seen; yet such a form as Orra's Forever in my busy fancy dwells. Why wilt thou urge me on to meet her scorn? Hart. Go too, I praise thy modesty short while, SCENE 2.--A spacious apartment.-(Enter Hughobert and Urston.) I feed and clothe these drones, and in return They cheat, deceive, abuse me; nay belike, (Enter Glottenbal, who shrinks back on seeing them.) Glot. Yes, call it then disgrace, or what you please; Hugh. E'en so; I doubt it not; Thy lance's point, and every thing about thee Angry enough to do it sharply. Hugh. (to Urston.) Faith! I trow, He gibes me fairly here; there's reason in 't; Fools speak not thus. (to Glot.) Go to! if I am angry, Glot. Have you not bid me still to speak the truth? Hugh. (to Urston.) Again thou hearest he makes an apt reply. Urst. He wants not words. Hugh. Nor meaning neither. (Enter Eleanora.) Well, dame, where hast thou been? Elea. I came from Orra. Hugh. Hast thou been pleading in our son's excuse? And how did she receive it? Elea. I tried to do it, but her present humor Is jest and merriment. She is behind me. Glot. (listening.) Aye, she is coming; light and quick her steps; So sound they, when her spirits are unruly. But I am bold; she shall not mock me now. |