low the attempt; a hundred thousand arms would be raised against thy life; every morsel thou didst taste, every drop which thou didst drink, the very breeze of heaven that fanned thee, would come loaded with destruction. One chance of safety is open :-obey the summons. Isa. And perish.-Yet why should I still fear death? Be it so. Geo. No-I have sworn to save you. I will not do the work by halves. Does any one save Martin know of the dreadful deed? Isa. None. proach him. Reynold, thinkest thou not we could send one of the troopers, disguised as a monk, to aid Martin in making his escape? Rey. Noble sir, the followers of your house are so well known to those of Maltingen, that I fear it is impossible. Geo. Knowest thou of no stranger who might be employed? His reward shall exceed even his hopes. Rey. So please you-I think the minstrel could well execute such a commission: he is shrewd and cunning, and can write and read like a priest. Geo. Call him (Exit REY.) If this fails, I must em Geo. Then go-assert your innocence, and leave ploy open force. Were Martin removed, no tongue the rest to me. Isa. Wretch that I am! How can I support the task you would impose? Geo. Think on my father. Live for him he will need all the comfort thou canst bestow. Let the thought that his destruction is involved in thine, carry thee through the dreadful trial. Isa. Be it so.-For Rudiger I have lived: for him I will continue to bear the burden of existence: but the instant that my guilt comes to his knowledge shall be the last of my life. Ere I would bear from him one glance of hatred or of scorn, this dagger should drink my blood. (Puts the poniard into her bosom.) Geo. Fear not. He can never know. No evidence shall appear against you. Isa. How shall I obey the summons, and where find the terrible judgment-seat? Geo. Leave that to the judges. Resolve but to obey, and a conductor will be found. Go to the chapel; there pray for your sins and mine. (He leads her out, and returns —Sins, indeed! I break a dreadful vow, but I save the life of a parent; and the penance I will do for my perjury shall appal even the judges of blood. Geo. I understand him. I will be there. Hugo. And the count says to you, that he will not ransom your wounded squire, though you would downweigh his best horse with gold. But you may send him a confessor, for the count says he will need one. Geo. Is he so near death? Hugo. Not as it seems to me. He is weak through loss of blood; but since his wound was dressed he can both stand and walk. Our count has a notable balsam, which has recruited him much. Geo. Enough-I will send a priest.—(Exit HUGO). I fathom his plot. He would add another witness to the tale of Martin's guilt. But no priest shall ap can assert the bloody truth. Enter MINSTREL. Geo. Come hither, Minhold. Hast thou courage to undertake a dangerous enterprise? Ber. My life, sir knight, has been one scene of danger and of dread. I have forgotten how to fear. Geo. Thy speech is above thy seeming.-Who art thou? Ber. An unfortunate knight, obliged to shroud myself under this disguise. Geo. What is the cause of thy misfortunes? Ber. I slew, at a tournament, a prince, and was laid under the ban of the empire. Geo. I have interest with the emperor. Swear to perform what task I shall impose on thee, and I will procure the recall of the ban. Ber. I swear. Geo. Then take the disguise of a monk, and go with the follower of Count Roderic, as if to confess my wounded squire Martin. Give him thy dress, and remain in prison in his stead. Thy captivity shall be short, and I pledge my knightly word I will labour to execute my promise, when thou shalt have leisure to unfold thy history. Ber. I will do as you direct. Is the life of your squire in danger? Geo. It is, unless thou canst accomplish his release. Ber. I will essay it. [Exit. Geo. Such are the mean expedients to which George of Aspen must now resort. No longer can I debate with Roderic in the field. The depraved-the perjured knight must contend with him only in the arts of dissimulation and treachery. Oh, mother! mother! the most bitter consequence of thy crime has been the birth of thy first-born! But I must warn my brother of the impending storm. Poor Henry, how little can thy gay temper anticipate evil! What, ho there! (Enter an Attendant.) Where is Baron Henry? Att. Noble sir, he rode forth, after a slight refreshment, to visit the party in the field. Geo. Saddle my steed! I will follow him. All. So please you, your noble father has twice demanded your presence at the banquet. Geo. It matters not-say that I have ridden forth to the Wolfshill. Where is thy lady? Att. In the chapel, sir knight. Arnolf of Ebersdorf, first husband of the Baroness Geo. 'Tis well-saddle my bay horse-(apart) for Isabella of Aspen! the last time. Ber. The same. ACT IV. SCENE 1. [Exit. Rod. Who, in a quarrel at a tournament, many years since, slew a blood-relation of the emperor, and was laid under the ban? Ber. The same. Rod. And who has now, in the disguise of a priest, aided the escape of Martin, squire to George of Aspen? Ber. The same-the same. Rod. Then, by the holy cross of Cologne, thou hast set at liberty the murderer of thy brother Arnolf! Ber. How! What! I understand thee not! Rod. Miserable plotter!-Martin, by his own confession, as Wolfstein heard, avowed having aided Isabella in the murder of her husband. I had laid such a plan of vengeance as should have made all Germany shudder. And thou hast counteracted it-thou, the brother of the murdered Arnolf! Ber. Can this be so, Wolfstein? Wolf. I heard Martin confess the murder. Ber. Then am I indeed unfortunate! Rod. What, in the name of evil, brought thee here? Ber. I am the last of my race. When I was outlawed, as thou knowest, the lands of Ebersdorf, my Rod. Villain! thy life shall pay it! (Strikes at rightful inheritance, were declared forfeited, and the HUGO is held by WOLFSTEIN.) Emperor bestowed them upon Rudiger when he mar Wolf. Hold, hold, Count Roderic! Hugo may be ried Isabella. I attempted to defend my domain, but blameless. Rod. Reckless slave! how came he to escape? Hugo. Under the disguise of a monk's habit, whom by your orders we brought to confess him. Rod. Has he been long gone! Hugo. An hour and more since he passed our sentinels, disguised as the chaplain of Aspen: but he walked so slowly and feebly, I think he cannot yet have reached the posts of the enemy. Rod. Where is the treacherous priest? Hugo. He waits his doom not far from hence. [Exit HUGO. Rod. Drag him hither. The miscreant that snatched the morsel of vengeance from the lion of Maltingen, shall expire under torture. Re-enter HUGO, with BERTRAM and Attendants. Rod. Villain! what tempted thee, under the garb of a minister of religion, to steal a criminal from the hand of justice? Ber. I am no villain, Count Roderic; and I only aided the escape of one wounded wretch whom thou didst mean to kill basely. Rod. Liar and slave! thou hast assisted a murderer, upon whom justice had sacred claims. Ber. I warn thee again, count, that I am neither liar not slave. Shortly I hope to tell thee I am once more thy equal. Rod. Thou! Thou! Ber. Yes! the name of Bertram of Ebersdorf was once not unknown to thee. Rudiger-Hell thank him for it-enforced the ban against me at the head of his vassals, and I was constrained to fly. Since then I have warred against the Saracens in Spain and Palestine. Rod. But why didst thou return to a land where death attends thy being discovered? Ber. Impatience urged me to see once more the land of my nativity, and the towers of Ebersdorf. I came there yesterday, under the name of the minstrel Minhold. Rod. And what prevailed on thee to undertake to deliver Martin? Ber. George, though I told not my name, engaged to procure the recall of the ban; besides, he told me Martin's life was in danger, and I accounted the old villain to be the last remaining follower of our house, But, as God shall judge me, the tale of horror thou hast mentioned I could not have even suspected. Report ran, that my brother died of the plague. Wolf. Raised for the purpose, doubtless, of preventing attendance upon his sick-bed, and an inspection of his body. Ber. My vengeance shall be dreadful as its cause! The usurpers of my inheritance, the robbers of my honour, the murderers of my brother, shall be cut off, root and branch! Rod. Thou art, then, welcome here; especially if thou art still a true brother to our invisible order. Ber. I am. Rod. There is a meeting this night on the business of thy brother's death. Some are now come. Rod. (astonished.) Thou Bertram! the brother of must despatch them in pursuit of Martin. I Enter HUGO. Hugo. The foes advance, sir knight. Rod. Back! back to the ruins! Come with us, Bertram; on the road thou shalt hear the dreadful history. [Exeunt. From the opposite side enter George, Henry, WICKERD, Geo. No news of Martin yet? Wic. None, sir knight. Geo. Nor of the minstrel? Wic. None. Geo. Then he has betrayed me, or is prisoner- Hen. Still this dreadful gloom on thy brow, brother? them with safety? Accursed be the hour in which I entered the labyrinth, and doubly accursed that, in which thou too must lose the cheerful sunshine of a soul without a mystery! Hen. Yet for thy sake will I be a member. man. Geo. Henry, thou didst rise this morning a free No one could say to thee, "Why dost thou so?" Thou layest thee down to-night the veriest slave that ever tugged at an oar-the slave of men whose actions will appear to thee savage and incomprehensible, and whom thou must aid against the world, upon peril of thy throat. Hen. Be it so, I will share your lot. Geo. Alas, Henry! Heaven forbid! But since thou hast by a hasty word fettered thyself, I will avail myself of thy bondage. Mount thy fleetest steed, and hie thee this very night to the Duke of Bavaria. He Hen. Once thou thoughtest me worthy of thy friend- is chief and paramount of our chapter. Show him ship. Geo. Henry, thou art young Hen. Shall I therefore betray thy confidence? Geo. No! but thou art gentle and well-natured. Thy mind cannot even support the burden which mine must bear, far less wilt thou approve the means I shall use to throw it off. Hen. Try me. Geo. I may not. Hen. Then thou dost no longer love me. this signet and this letter; tell him that matters will be this night discussed concerning the house of Aspen. Bid him speed him to the assembly, for he well knows the president is our deadly foe. He will admit thee a member of our holy body. Hen. Who is the foe whom you dread? Geo. Young man, the first duty thou must learn is implicit and blind obedience. Hen. Well! I shall soon return and see thee again. Geo. I love thee, and because I love thee, I will not well! that matters not. involve thee in my distress. Hen. I will bear it with thee. Geo. Shouldst thou share it, it would be doubled to me! Hen. Fear not, I will find a remedy. Geo. It would cost thee peace of mind, here, and hereafter. Hen. I take the risk. Geo. It may not be, Henry. Thou wouldst become the confidant of crimes past--the accomplice of others to come. Hen. Shall I guess? Geo. I charge thee, no! Hen. I must. Thou art one of the secret judges. Geo. Dost thou know what the discovery has cost thee? Hen. I care not. Geo. He who discovers any part of our mystery must himself become one of our number. Hen. How so? Geo. If he does not consent, his secrecy will be speedily ensured by his death. To that we are sworn -take thy choice! Hen. Well, are you not banded in secret to punish those offenders whom the sword of justice cannot reach, or who are shielded from its stroke by the buckler of power? Hen. I go thou wilt set a watch here? Geo. I will. (HENRY is going.) Return, my dear Henry; let me embrace thee, shouldst thou not see me again. Hen. Heaven! what mean you? Geo. Nothing. The life of mortals is precarious; and, should we not meet again, take my blessing and this embrace and this-(embraces him warmly). And now haste to the duke. (Exit HENRY.) Poor youth, thou little knowest what thou hast undertaken. But if Martin has escaped, and if the duke arrives, they will not dare to proceed without proof. Re-enter WICKERD and followers. Wic. We have made a follower of Maltingen prisoner, Baron George, who reports that Martin has escaped. Geo. Joy! joy! such joy as I can now feel! Set him free for the good news-and, Wickerd, keep a good watch in this spot all night. Send out scouts to find Martin, lest he should not be able to reach Ebersdorf. Wic. I shall, noble sir. [The kettle-drums and trumpets flourish as for setting the watch the scene closes. SCENE II. The chapel at Ebersdorf, an ancient Gothic building. Geo. Such is indeed the purpose of our fraternity; ISABELLA is discovered rising from before the altar, on but the end is pursued through paths dark, intricate, and slippery with blood. Who is he that shall tread which burn two tapers. Isa. I cannot pray. Terror and guilt have stifled devotion. The heart must be at ease-the hands must be pure when they are lifted to Heaven. Midnight is the hour of summons: it is now near. How can I pray, when I go resolved to deny a crime which every drop of my blood could not wash away! And my son! Oh! he will fall the victim of my crime! Arnolf! Arnolf! thou art dreadfully avenged! (Tap at the door.) The footstep of my dreadful guide. (Tap again.) My courage is no more. (Enter GERTRUDE by the door.) Gertrude! is it only thou? (embraces her.) Ger. Dear aunt, leave this awful place; it chills my very blood. My uncle sent me to call you to the hall. Isa. Who is in the hall? Upon the Rhine they cluster: Oh, blessed be the Rhine! Let fringe and furs, and many a rabbit skin, sirs, He'll freeze without what warms our hearts within, sirs, But on the Rhine, but on the Rhine they cluster, That make our troopers' frozen courage muster : Con. Well sung, Wickerd; thou wert ever a jovial soul. Enter a trooper or two more. Wic. Hast thou made the rounds, Frank? Ger. Only Reynold and the family, with whom my stormy night; the moon shone on the Wolfshill, and uncle is making merry. Isa. Sawest thou no strange faces? Ger. No; none but friends. Isa. Art thou sure of that? Is George there? Ger. No, nor Henry; both have ridden out. I think they might have staid one day at least. But come, aunt, I hate this place; it reminds me of my dream. See, yonder was the spot where methought they were burying you alive, below yon monument (pointing). Isa. (starting.) The monument of my first husband. Leave me, leave me, Gertrude. I follow in a moment. (Exit Gertrude.) Ay, there he lies! forgetful alike of his crimes and injuries! Insensible, as if this chapel had never rung with my shrieks, or the castle resounded to his parting groans! When shall I sleep so soundly? (As she gazes on the monument, a figure muffled in black appears from behind it.) Merciful God! is it a vision, such as has haunted my couch? (It approaches: she goes on with mingled terror and resolution.) Ghastly phantom, art thou the restless spirit of one who died in agony, or art thou the mysterious being that must guide me to the presence of the avengers of blood? (Figure bends its head and beckons.)-To-morrow! to-morrow! I cannot follow thee now! (Figure shows a dagger from beneath its cloak.) Compulsion! I understand thee: I will follow. (She follows the figure a little way; he turns, and wraps a black veil round her head, and takes her hand: then both exeunt behind the monument.) SCENE III. The Wood of Griefenhaus. A watch-fire, round which sit WICKERD, CONRAD, and others, in their watch-cloaks. Wic. The night is bitter cold. on the dead bodies with which to-day's work has covered it. We heard the spirit of the house of Maltingen wailing over the slaughter of its adherents: I durst go no farther. Wic. Hen-hearted rascal! The spirit of some old raven, who was picking their bones. Con. Nay, Wickerd; the churchmen say there are such things. Frank. Ay; and Father Ludovic told us last sermon, how the devil twisted the neck of ten farmers at Kletterbach, who refused to pay Peter's pence. Wic. Yes, some church devil, no doubt. Frank. Nay, old Reynold says, that in passing, by midnight, near the old chapel at our castle, he saw it all lighted up, and heard a chorus of voices sing the funeral service. Another Soldier. Father Ludovic heard the same. Wic. Hear me, ye hare-livered boys! Can you look death in the face in battle, and dread such nursery bugbears? Old Reynold saw his vision in the strength of the grape. As for the chaplain, far be it from me to name the spirit which visits him; but I know what I know, when I found him confessing Bertrand's pretty Agnes in the chestnut grove. Con. But, Wickerd, though I have often heard of strange tales which I could not credit, yet there is one in our family so well attested, that I almost believe it. Shall I tell it you? All Soldiers. Do! do tell it, gentle Conrad. Wic. And I will take t'other sup of Rhenish to fence against the horrors of the tale. Con. It is about my own uncle and godfather, Albert of Horsheim. Wic. I have seen him-he was a gallant warrior. Con. Well! He was long absent in the Bohemian wars. In an expedition he was benighted and came to a lone house on the edge of a forest: he and his followers knocked repeatedly for entrance in vain. Con. Ay, but thou hast lined thy doublet well with They forced the door, but found no inhabitants. old Rhenish. Wic. True; and I'll give ye warrant for it. (Sings.) What makes the troopers' frozen courage muster? Frank. And they made good their quarters ? Con. They did and Albert retired to rest in an upper chamber. Opposite to the bed on which he threw himself was a large mirror. At midnight he was awaked by deep groans: he cast his eyes upon the mirror, and saw- Frank. Sacred Heaven! Heard you nothing? Mar. Yes, you are the butler at Ebersdorf: you Wic. Ay, the wind among the withered leaves. Go have the charge of the large gilded cup, embossed on, Conrad. Your uncle was a wise man. with the figures of the twelve apostles. It was the Con. That's more than grey hairs can make other favourite goblet of my old master. folks. Wic. Ha! stripling, art thou so malapert? Though thou art Lord Henry's page, I shall teach thee who commands this party. Con. By our Lady, Martin, thou must be distracted indeed, to think our master would intrust Wickerd with the care of the cellar. Mar. I know a face so like the apostate Judas on All Soldiers. Peace, peace, good Wickerd; let that cup. I have seen the likeness when I gazed on Conrad proceed. Con. Where was I? Frank. About the mirror. Con. True. My uncle beheld in the mirror the reflection of a human face, distorted and covered with blood. A voice pronounced articulately, "It is yet time." As the words were spoken, my uncle discerned in the ghastly visage the features of his own father. Soldier. Hush! By St. Francis I heard a groan. (They start up all but WICKERD.) Wic. The croaking of a frog, who has caught cold in this bitter night, and sings rather more hoarsely than usual. Frank. Wickerd, thou art surely no Christian. (They sit down, and close round the fire.) Con. Well-my uncle called up his attendants, and they searched every nook of the chamber, but found nothing. So they covered the mirror with a cloth, and Albert was left alone: but hardly had he closed his eyes when the same voice proclaimed, "It is now too late; " the covering was drawn aside, and he saw the figure- Frank. Merciful Virgin! It comes. (All rise.) Con. See yon figure coming from the thicket. Enter MARTIN, in the monk's dress, much disordered: his face is very pale, and his steps slow. Wic. (levelling his pike.) Man or devil, which thou wilt, thou shalt feel cold iron, if thou budgest a foot nearer. (Martin stops.) Who art thou? What dost thou seek? Mar. To warm myself at your fire. It is deadly cold. Wic. See there, ye cravens, your apparition is a poor benighted monk: sit down, father. (They place Martin by the fire.) By heaven, it is Martin-our Martin! Martin, how fares it with thee? We have sought thee this whole night. 66 Mar. So have many others (vacantly). Con. Yes, thy master. Mar. Did you see him too? Con. Whom? Baron George? Mar. No! my first master, Arnolf of Ebersdorf Wic. He raves. Mar. He passed me but now in the wood, mounted upon his old black steed; its nostrils breathed smoke and flame; neither tree nor rock stopped him. He said, Martin, thou wilt return this night to my service!" Wic. Wrap thy cloak around him, Francis; he is distracted with cold and pain. Dost thou not recollect me, old friend? a mirror. Wic. Try to go to sleep, dear Martin; it will relieve thy brain. (Footsteps are heard in the wood.) To your arms. (They take their arms.) Enter two Members of the Invisible Tribunal, muffled in their cloaks. Con. Stand! Who are ye? 1 Mem. Travellers benighted in the wood. Wic. Are ye friends to Aspen or Maltingen? 1 Mem. We enter not into their quarrel: we are friends to the right. Wic. Then are ye friends to us, and welcome to pass the night by our fire. 2 Mem. Thanks. (They approach the fire, and regard Martin very earnestly.) Con. Hear ye any news abroad? 2 Mem. None; but that oppression and villany are rife and rank as ever. Wic. The old complaint. 1 Mem. No! never did former age equal this in wickedness; and yet, as if the daily commission of enormities were not enough to blot the sun, every hour discovers crimes which have lain concealed for years. Con. Pity the holy Tribunal should slumber in its office. 2 Mem. Young man, it slumbers not. When criminals are ripe for its vengeance, it falls like the bolt of Heaven. Mar. (attempting to rise.) Let me be gone. 1 Mem. Even now, we heard a tale of a villain, who, ungrateful as the frozen adder, stung the bosom that had warmed him into life. Mar. Conrad, bear me off; I would be away from these men. Con. Be at ease, and strive to sleep. Mar. Too well I know-I shall never sleep again. 2 Mem. The wretch of whom we speak became, from revenge and lust of gain, the murderer of the master whose bread he did eat. Wic. Out upon the monster ! 1 Mem. For nearly thirty years was he permitted to cumber the ground. The miscreant thought his crime was concealed; but the earth which groaned under his footsteps-the winds which passed over his unhallowed head-the stream which he polluted by his lips-the fire at which he warmed his bloodstained hands-every element bore witness to bis guilt. |