[883:1]First published in 1817: included in 1828, 1829 and 1834.Zapolyawas written at Calne, in Wiltshire, in 1815. It was offered to the Committee of Management of Drury Lane Theatre, and rejected, in March, 1816.
[883:1]First published in 1817: included in 1828, 1829 and 1834.Zapolyawas written at Calne, in Wiltshire, in 1815. It was offered to the Committee of Management of Drury Lane Theatre, and rejected, in March, 1816.
[883:2]Title] Zapolya, &c. The Prelude entitled 'The Usurper's Fortune'; and The Sequel entitled 'The Usurper's Fate'. By S. T. Coleridge, Esq.1817.
[883:2]Title] Zapolya, &c. The Prelude entitled 'The Usurper's Fortune'; and The Sequel entitled 'The Usurper's Fate'. By S. T. Coleridge, Esq.1817.
Orestes]ChoephoroeMS. S. T. C.
Orestes]ChoephoroeMS. S. T. C.
Emerick, Usurping King of Illyria.Raab Kiuprili, an Illyrian Chieftain.Casimir, Son ofKiuprili.Chef Ragozzi, a Military Commander.Zapolya, Queen of Illyria.
Emerick, Usurping King of Illyria.
Raab Kiuprili, an Illyrian Chieftain.
Casimir, Son ofKiuprili.
Chef Ragozzi, a Military Commander.
Zapolya, Queen of Illyria.
Front of the Palace with a magnificent Colonnade. On one side a military Guard-house. Sentries pacing backward and forward before the Palace.Chef Ragozzi, at the door of the Guard-house, as looking forwards at some object in the distance.
Chef Ragozzi.My eyes deceive me not, it must be he.Who but our chief, my more than father, whoBut Raab Kiuprili moves with such a gait?Lo! e'en this eager and unwonted hasteBut agitates, not quells, its majesty.5My patron! my commander! yes, 'tis he!Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes.[Drums beat, &c., theGuardturns out.
Chef Ragozzi.My eyes deceive me not, it must be he.Who but our chief, my more than father, whoBut Raab Kiuprili moves with such a gait?Lo! e'en this eager and unwonted hasteBut agitates, not quells, its majesty.5My patron! my commander! yes, 'tis he!Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes.[Drums beat, &c., theGuardturns out.
EnterRaab Kiuprili.
Raab Kiuprili (making a signal to stop the drums, &c.).Silence! enough! This is no time, young friend,For ceremonious dues. The summoning drum,Th' air-shattering trumpet, and the horseman's clatter,10Are insults to a dying sovereign's ear.Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your General greets you,His loyal fellow-warriors.[Guards retire.Chef Ragozzi.Pardon my surprise.Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended!What may these wonders prophesy?Raab Kiuprili.Tell me first,15How fares the king? His majesty still lives?Chef Ragozzi.We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends(And none but they approach him) scoff at hope.Raab Kiuprili.Ragozzi! I have reared thee from a child,[885]And as a child I have reared thee. Whence this air20Of mystery? That face was wont to openClear as the morning to me, shewing all things.Hide nothing from me.Chef Ragozzi.O most loved, most honoured,The mystery that struggles in my looksBetrayed my whole tale to thee, if it told thee25That I am ignorant; but fear the worst.And mystery is contagious. All things hereAre full of motion: and yet all is silent:And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears.Raab Kiuprili.I have trembling proof within how true thou speakest.30Chef Ragozzi.That the prince Emerick feasts the soldiery,Gives splendid arms, pays the commanders' debts,And (it is whispered) by sworn promisesMakes himself debtor—hearing this, thou hast heardAll——35But what my lord will learn too soon himself.Raab Kiuprili.Ha!—Well then, let it come! Worse scarce can come.This letter written by the trembling handOf royal Andreas calls me from the campTo his immediate presence. It appoints me,40The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm,And of the royal infant. Day by day,Robbed of Zapolya's soothing cares, the kingYearns only to behold one precious boon,And with his life breathe forth a father's blessing.45Chef Ragozzi.Remember you, my lord! that Hebrew leechWhose face so much distempered you?Raab Kiuprili.Barzoni?I held him for a spy; but the proof failing(More courteously, I own, than pleased myself),I sent him from the camp.Chef Ragozzi.To him, in chief,50Prince Emerick trusts his royal brother's health.Raab Kiuprili.Hide nothing, I conjure you! What of him?
Raab Kiuprili (making a signal to stop the drums, &c.).Silence! enough! This is no time, young friend,For ceremonious dues. The summoning drum,Th' air-shattering trumpet, and the horseman's clatter,10Are insults to a dying sovereign's ear.Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your General greets you,His loyal fellow-warriors.[Guards retire.
Chef Ragozzi.Pardon my surprise.Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended!What may these wonders prophesy?
Raab Kiuprili.Tell me first,15How fares the king? His majesty still lives?
Chef Ragozzi.We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends(And none but they approach him) scoff at hope.
Raab Kiuprili.Ragozzi! I have reared thee from a child,[885]And as a child I have reared thee. Whence this air20Of mystery? That face was wont to openClear as the morning to me, shewing all things.Hide nothing from me.
Chef Ragozzi.O most loved, most honoured,The mystery that struggles in my looksBetrayed my whole tale to thee, if it told thee25That I am ignorant; but fear the worst.And mystery is contagious. All things hereAre full of motion: and yet all is silent:And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears.
Raab Kiuprili.I have trembling proof within how true thou speakest.30
Chef Ragozzi.That the prince Emerick feasts the soldiery,Gives splendid arms, pays the commanders' debts,And (it is whispered) by sworn promisesMakes himself debtor—hearing this, thou hast heardAll——35But what my lord will learn too soon himself.
Raab Kiuprili.Ha!—Well then, let it come! Worse scarce can come.This letter written by the trembling handOf royal Andreas calls me from the campTo his immediate presence. It appoints me,40The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm,And of the royal infant. Day by day,Robbed of Zapolya's soothing cares, the kingYearns only to behold one precious boon,And with his life breathe forth a father's blessing.45
Chef Ragozzi.Remember you, my lord! that Hebrew leechWhose face so much distempered you?
Raab Kiuprili.Barzoni?I held him for a spy; but the proof failing(More courteously, I own, than pleased myself),I sent him from the camp.
Chef Ragozzi.To him, in chief,50Prince Emerick trusts his royal brother's health.
Raab Kiuprili.Hide nothing, I conjure you! What of him?
Chef Ragozzi.With pomp of words beyond a soldier's cunning,And shrugs and wrinkled brow, he smiles and whispers!Talks in dark words of women's fancies; hints55That 'twere a useless and a cruel zealTo rob a dying man of any hope,However vain, that soothes him: and, in fine,Denies all chance of offspring from the Queen.Raab Kiuprili.The venomous snake! My heel was on its head,60And (fool!) I did not crush it!Chef Ragozzi.Nay, he fearsZapolya will not long survive her husband.Raab Kiuprili.Manifest treason! Even this brief delayHalf makes me an accomplice——(If he live,)[Is moving toward the palace.If he but live and know me, all may——Chef Ragozzi.Halt![Stops him.65On pain of death, my Lord! am I commandedTo stop all ingress to the palace.Raab Kiuprili.Thou!Chef Ragozzi.No place, no name, no rank excepted—Raab Kiuprili.Thou!Chef Ragozzi.This life of mine, O take it, Lord Kiuprili!I give it as a weapon to thy hands,70Mine own no longer. Guardian of Illyria,Useless to thee, 'tis worthless to myself.Thou art the framer of my nobler being;Nor does there live one virtue in my soul,One honourable hope, but calls thee father.75Yet ere thou dost resolve, know that yon palaceIs guarded from within, that each accessIs thronged by armed conspirators, watched by ruffiansPampered with gifts, and hot upon the spoilWhich that false promiser still trails before them.80I ask but this one boon—reserve my lifeTill I can lose it for the realm and thee!Raab Kiuprili.My heart is rent asunder. O my country,O fallen Illyria, stand I here spell-bound?Did my King love me? Did I earn his love?85Have we embraced as brothers would embrace?Was I his arm, his thunder-bolt? And nowMust I, hag-ridden, pant as in a dream?[887]Or, like an eagle, whose strong wings press upAgainst a coiling serpent's folds, can I90Strike but for mockery, and with restless beakGore my own breast?—Ragozzi, thou art faithful?Chef Ragozzi.Here before Heaven I dedicate my faithTo the royal line of Andreas.Raab Kiuprili.Hark, Ragozzi!Guilt is a timorous thing ere perpetration:95Despair alone makes wicked men be bold.Come thou with me! They have heard my voice in flight,Have faced round, terror-struck, and feared no longerThe whistling javelins of their fell pursuers.Ha! what is this?[Black flag displayed from the Tower of the Palace: a death-bell tolls, &c.Vengeance of Heaven! He is dead.100Chef Ragozzi.At length then 'tis announced. Alas! I fear,That these black death-flags are but treason's signals.Raab Kiuprili.A prophecy too soon fulfilled! See yonder!O rank and ravenous wolves! the death-bell echoesStill in the doleful air—and see! they come.105Chef Ragozzi.Precise and faithful in their villainyEven to the moment, that the master traitorHad pre-ordained them.Raab Kiuprili.Was it over-haste,Or is it scorn, that in this race of treasonTheir guilt thus drops its mask, and blazons forth110Their infamous plot even to an idiot's sense?Chef Ragozzi.Doubtless they deem Heaven too usurp'd! Heaven's justiceBought like themselves!Being equal all in crime,Do you press on, ye spotted parricides!For the one sole pre-eminence yet doubtful,115The prize of foremost impudence in guilt?Raab Kiuprili.The bad man's cunning still prepares the wayFor its own outwitting. I applaud, Ragozzi!Ragozzi! I applaud,[888]In thee, the virtuous hope that dares look onwardAnd keeps the life-spark warm of future action120Beneath the cloak of patient sufferance.Act and appear, as time and prudence prompt thee:I shall not misconceive the part thou playest.Mine is an easier part—to brave the usurper.
Chef Ragozzi.With pomp of words beyond a soldier's cunning,And shrugs and wrinkled brow, he smiles and whispers!Talks in dark words of women's fancies; hints55That 'twere a useless and a cruel zealTo rob a dying man of any hope,However vain, that soothes him: and, in fine,Denies all chance of offspring from the Queen.
Raab Kiuprili.The venomous snake! My heel was on its head,60And (fool!) I did not crush it!
Chef Ragozzi.Nay, he fearsZapolya will not long survive her husband.
Raab Kiuprili.Manifest treason! Even this brief delayHalf makes me an accomplice——(If he live,)[Is moving toward the palace.If he but live and know me, all may——
Chef Ragozzi.Halt![Stops him.65On pain of death, my Lord! am I commandedTo stop all ingress to the palace.
Raab Kiuprili.Thou!
Chef Ragozzi.No place, no name, no rank excepted—
Raab Kiuprili.Thou!
Chef Ragozzi.This life of mine, O take it, Lord Kiuprili!I give it as a weapon to thy hands,70Mine own no longer. Guardian of Illyria,Useless to thee, 'tis worthless to myself.Thou art the framer of my nobler being;Nor does there live one virtue in my soul,One honourable hope, but calls thee father.75Yet ere thou dost resolve, know that yon palaceIs guarded from within, that each accessIs thronged by armed conspirators, watched by ruffiansPampered with gifts, and hot upon the spoilWhich that false promiser still trails before them.80I ask but this one boon—reserve my lifeTill I can lose it for the realm and thee!
Raab Kiuprili.My heart is rent asunder. O my country,O fallen Illyria, stand I here spell-bound?Did my King love me? Did I earn his love?85Have we embraced as brothers would embrace?Was I his arm, his thunder-bolt? And nowMust I, hag-ridden, pant as in a dream?[887]Or, like an eagle, whose strong wings press upAgainst a coiling serpent's folds, can I90Strike but for mockery, and with restless beakGore my own breast?—Ragozzi, thou art faithful?
Chef Ragozzi.Here before Heaven I dedicate my faithTo the royal line of Andreas.
Raab Kiuprili.Hark, Ragozzi!Guilt is a timorous thing ere perpetration:95Despair alone makes wicked men be bold.Come thou with me! They have heard my voice in flight,Have faced round, terror-struck, and feared no longerThe whistling javelins of their fell pursuers.Ha! what is this?[Black flag displayed from the Tower of the Palace: a death-bell tolls, &c.Vengeance of Heaven! He is dead.100
Chef Ragozzi.At length then 'tis announced. Alas! I fear,That these black death-flags are but treason's signals.
Raab Kiuprili.A prophecy too soon fulfilled! See yonder!O rank and ravenous wolves! the death-bell echoesStill in the doleful air—and see! they come.105
Chef Ragozzi.Precise and faithful in their villainyEven to the moment, that the master traitorHad pre-ordained them.
Raab Kiuprili.Was it over-haste,Or is it scorn, that in this race of treasonTheir guilt thus drops its mask, and blazons forth110Their infamous plot even to an idiot's sense?
Chef Ragozzi.Doubtless they deem Heaven too usurp'd! Heaven's justiceBought like themselves!Being equal all in crime,Do you press on, ye spotted parricides!For the one sole pre-eminence yet doubtful,115The prize of foremost impudence in guilt?
Raab Kiuprili.The bad man's cunning still prepares the wayFor its own outwitting. I applaud, Ragozzi!Ragozzi! I applaud,[888]In thee, the virtuous hope that dares look onwardAnd keeps the life-spark warm of future action120Beneath the cloak of patient sufferance.Act and appear, as time and prudence prompt thee:I shall not misconceive the part thou playest.Mine is an easier part—to brave the usurper.
[Enter a procession ofEmerick'sAdherents, Nobles, Chieftains,andSoldiers,with Music. They advance toward the front of the stage.Kiuprilimakes the signal for them to stop.—The Music ceases.
Leader of the Procession.The Lord Kiuprili!—Welcome from the camp.125Raab Kiuprili.Grave magistrates and chieftains of Illyria,In good time come ye hither, if ye comeAs loyal men with honourable purposeTo mourn what can alone be mourned; but chieflyTo enforce the last commands of royal Andreas130And shield the Queen, Zapolya: haply makingThe mother's joy light up the widow's tears.Leader.Our purpose demands speed. Grace our procession;A warrior best will greet a warlike king.Raab Kiuprili.This patent written by your lawful king,135(Lo! his own seal and signature attesting)Appoints as guardians of his realm and offspring,The Queen, and the Prince Emerick, and myself.[Voices ofLiveKing Emerick! anEmerick! anEmerick!What means this clamour? Are these madmen's voices?Or is some knot of riotous slanderers leagued140To infamize the name of the king's brotherWith a lie black as Hell? unmanly cruelty,Ingratitude, and most unnatural treason?[Murmurs.What mean these murmurs? Dare then any hereProclaim Prince Emerick a spotted traitor?145One that has taken from you your sworn faith,And given you in return a Judas' bribe,Infamy now, oppression in reversion,And Heaven's inevitable curse hereafter?[Loud murmurs, followed by cries—Emerick!No Baby Prince! No Changelings!Yet bear with me awhile! Have I for this150[889]Bled for your safety, conquered for your honour?Was it for this, Illyrians! that I fordedYour thaw-swoln torrents, when the shouldering iceFought with the foe, and stained its jagged pointsWith gore from wounds I felt not? Did the blast155Beat on this body, frost-and-famine-numbed,Till my hard flesh distinguished not itselfFrom the insensate mail, its fellow warrior?And have I brought home with me Victory,And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed Peace,160Her countenance twice lighted up with glory,As if I had charmed a goddess down from Heaven?But these will flee abhorrent from the throneOf usurpation![Murmurs increase—and cries ofOnward! Onward!Have you then thrown off shame,And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject,165Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophiesValiantly wrested from a valiant foe,Love's natural offerings to a rightful king,Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor,This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes170Of gold plucked from the images of godsUpon a sacrilegious robber's back.[EnterLord Casimir.Casimir.Who is this factious insolent, that dares brandThe elected King, our chosen Emerick?My father!Raab Kiuprili.Casimir! He, he a traitor!175Too soon indeed, Ragozzi! have I learnt it.[Aside.Casimir.My father and my lord!Raab Kiuprili.I know thee not!Leader.Yet the remembrancing did sound right filial.Raab Kiuprili.A holy name and words of natural dutyAre blasted by a thankless traitor's utterance.180Casimir.O hear me, Sire! not lightly have I swornHomage to Emerick. Illyria's sceptreDemands a manly hand, a warrior's grasp.[890]The queen Zapolya's self-expected offspringAt least is doubtful: and of all our nobles,185The king, inheriting his brother's heart,Hath honoured us the most. Your rank, my lord!Already eminent, is—all it can be—Confirmed: and me the king's grace hath appointedChief of his council and the lord high steward.190Raab Kiuprili.(Bought by a bribe!) I know thee now still less.Casimir.So much of Raab Kiuprili's blood flows here,That no power, save that holy name of father,Could shield the man who so dishonoured me.Raab Kiuprili.The son of Raab Kiuprili a bought bond-slave,195Guilt's pander, treason's mouth-piece, a gay parrot,School'd to shrill forth his feeder's usurp'd titles.And scream, Long live King Emerick!Leaders.Aye, King Emerick!Stand back, my lord! Lead us, or let us pass.Soldier.Nay, let the general speak!Soldiers.Hear him! hear him!Raab Kiuprili.Hear me,200Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria,Hear, and avenge me! Twice ten years have IStood in your presence, honoured by the king:Beloved and trusted. Is there one among youAccuses Raab Kiuprili of a bribe?205Or one false whisper in his sovereign's ear?Who here dares charge me with an orphan's rightsOutfaced, or widow's plea left undefended?And shall I now be branded by a traitor,A bought, bribed wretch, who, being called my son,210Doth libel a chaste matron's name, and plantHensbane and aconite on a mother's grave?The underling accomplice of a robber,That from a widow and a widow's offspringWould steal their heritage? To God a rebel,215And to the common father of his countryA recreant ingrate!Casimir.Sire! your words grow dangerous.High-flown romantic fancies ill-beseem[891]Your age and wisdom. 'Tis a statesman's virtue,To guard his country's safety by what means220It best may be protected—come what willOf these monk's morals!Raab Kiuprili (aside).Ha! the elder BrutusMade his soul iron, though his sons repented.They boasted not their baseness.[Draws his sword.Infamous changeling!Recant this instant, and swear loyalty,225And strict obedience to thy sovereign's will;Or, by the spirit of departed Andreas,Thou diest——[Chiefs,&c., rush to interpose; during the tumult enterEmerick, alarmed.Emerick.Call out the guard! Ragozzi! seize the assassin.——Kiuprili? Ha!——[Making signs to the guard to retire.Pass on, friends! to the palace.230
Leader of the Procession.The Lord Kiuprili!—Welcome from the camp.125
Raab Kiuprili.Grave magistrates and chieftains of Illyria,In good time come ye hither, if ye comeAs loyal men with honourable purposeTo mourn what can alone be mourned; but chieflyTo enforce the last commands of royal Andreas130And shield the Queen, Zapolya: haply makingThe mother's joy light up the widow's tears.
Leader.Our purpose demands speed. Grace our procession;A warrior best will greet a warlike king.
Raab Kiuprili.This patent written by your lawful king,135(Lo! his own seal and signature attesting)Appoints as guardians of his realm and offspring,The Queen, and the Prince Emerick, and myself.[Voices ofLiveKing Emerick! anEmerick! anEmerick!What means this clamour? Are these madmen's voices?Or is some knot of riotous slanderers leagued140To infamize the name of the king's brotherWith a lie black as Hell? unmanly cruelty,Ingratitude, and most unnatural treason?[Murmurs.What mean these murmurs? Dare then any hereProclaim Prince Emerick a spotted traitor?145One that has taken from you your sworn faith,And given you in return a Judas' bribe,Infamy now, oppression in reversion,And Heaven's inevitable curse hereafter?[Loud murmurs, followed by cries—Emerick!No Baby Prince! No Changelings!Yet bear with me awhile! Have I for this150[889]Bled for your safety, conquered for your honour?Was it for this, Illyrians! that I fordedYour thaw-swoln torrents, when the shouldering iceFought with the foe, and stained its jagged pointsWith gore from wounds I felt not? Did the blast155Beat on this body, frost-and-famine-numbed,Till my hard flesh distinguished not itselfFrom the insensate mail, its fellow warrior?And have I brought home with me Victory,And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed Peace,160Her countenance twice lighted up with glory,As if I had charmed a goddess down from Heaven?But these will flee abhorrent from the throneOf usurpation![Murmurs increase—and cries ofOnward! Onward!Have you then thrown off shame,And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject,165Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophiesValiantly wrested from a valiant foe,Love's natural offerings to a rightful king,Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor,This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes170Of gold plucked from the images of godsUpon a sacrilegious robber's back.[EnterLord Casimir.
Casimir.Who is this factious insolent, that dares brandThe elected King, our chosen Emerick?My father!
Raab Kiuprili.Casimir! He, he a traitor!175Too soon indeed, Ragozzi! have I learnt it.[Aside.
Casimir.My father and my lord!
Raab Kiuprili.I know thee not!
Leader.Yet the remembrancing did sound right filial.
Raab Kiuprili.A holy name and words of natural dutyAre blasted by a thankless traitor's utterance.180
Casimir.O hear me, Sire! not lightly have I swornHomage to Emerick. Illyria's sceptreDemands a manly hand, a warrior's grasp.[890]The queen Zapolya's self-expected offspringAt least is doubtful: and of all our nobles,185The king, inheriting his brother's heart,Hath honoured us the most. Your rank, my lord!Already eminent, is—all it can be—Confirmed: and me the king's grace hath appointedChief of his council and the lord high steward.190
Raab Kiuprili.(Bought by a bribe!) I know thee now still less.
Casimir.So much of Raab Kiuprili's blood flows here,That no power, save that holy name of father,Could shield the man who so dishonoured me.
Raab Kiuprili.The son of Raab Kiuprili a bought bond-slave,195Guilt's pander, treason's mouth-piece, a gay parrot,School'd to shrill forth his feeder's usurp'd titles.And scream, Long live King Emerick!
Leaders.Aye, King Emerick!Stand back, my lord! Lead us, or let us pass.
Soldier.Nay, let the general speak!
Soldiers.Hear him! hear him!
Raab Kiuprili.Hear me,200Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria,Hear, and avenge me! Twice ten years have IStood in your presence, honoured by the king:Beloved and trusted. Is there one among youAccuses Raab Kiuprili of a bribe?205Or one false whisper in his sovereign's ear?Who here dares charge me with an orphan's rightsOutfaced, or widow's plea left undefended?And shall I now be branded by a traitor,A bought, bribed wretch, who, being called my son,210Doth libel a chaste matron's name, and plantHensbane and aconite on a mother's grave?The underling accomplice of a robber,That from a widow and a widow's offspringWould steal their heritage? To God a rebel,215And to the common father of his countryA recreant ingrate!
Casimir.Sire! your words grow dangerous.High-flown romantic fancies ill-beseem[891]Your age and wisdom. 'Tis a statesman's virtue,To guard his country's safety by what means220It best may be protected—come what willOf these monk's morals!
Raab Kiuprili (aside).Ha! the elder BrutusMade his soul iron, though his sons repented.They boasted not their baseness.[Draws his sword.Infamous changeling!Recant this instant, and swear loyalty,225And strict obedience to thy sovereign's will;Or, by the spirit of departed Andreas,Thou diest——[Chiefs,&c., rush to interpose; during the tumult enterEmerick, alarmed.
Emerick.Call out the guard! Ragozzi! seize the assassin.——Kiuprili? Ha!——[Making signs to the guard to retire.Pass on, friends! to the palace.230
[Music recommences.—The Procession passes into the Palace.
Emerick.What? Raab Kiuprili? What? a father's swordAgainst his own son's breast?Raab Kiuprili.'Twould best excuse him,Were he thy son, Prince Emerick. I abjure him.Emerick.This is my thanks, then, that I have commencedA reign to which the free voice of the nobles235Hath called me, and the people, by regardsOf love and grace to Raab Kiuprili's house?Raab Kiuprili.What right hadst thou, Prince Emerick, to bestow them?Emerick.By what right dares Kiuprili question me?Raab Kiuprili.By a right common to all loyal subjects—240To me a duty! As the realm's co-regent,Appointed by our sovereign's last free act,Writ by himself.—[Grasping the Patent.Emerick.Aye!—Writ in a delirium!Raab Kiuprili.I likewise ask, by whose authority[892]The access to the sovereign was refused me?245Emerick.By whose authority dared the general leaveHis camp and army, like a fugitive?Raab Kiuprili.A fugitive, who, with victory for his comrade,Ran, open-eyed, upon the face of death!A fugitive, with no other fear, than bodements250To be belated in a loyal purpose—At the command, Prince! of my king and thine,Hither I came; and now again requireAudience of Queen Zapolya; and (the StatesForthwith convened) that thou dost shew at large,255On what ground of defect thou'st dared annulThis thy King's last and solemn act—hast daredAscend the throne, of which the law had named,And conscience should have made thee, a protector.Emerick.A sovereign's ear ill brooks a subject's questioning!260Yet for thy past well-doing—and because'Tis hard to erase at once the fond beliefLong cherished, that Illyria had in theeNo dreaming priest's slave, but a Roman loverOf her true weal and freedom—and for this, too,265That, hoping to call forth to the broad day-lightAnd fostering breeze of glory all deservings,I still had placed thee foremost.Raab Kiuprili.Prince! I listen.Emerick.Unwillingly I tell thee, that Zapolya,Maddened with grief, her erring hopes proved idle—270Casimir.Sire! speak the whole truth! Say, her fraud detected!Emerick.According to the sworn attests in councilOf her physician——Raab Kiuprili (aside).Yes! the Jew, Barzoni!Emerick.Under the imminent risk of death she lies,Or irrecoverable loss of reason,275If known friend's face or voice renew the frenzy.Casimir (to Kiuprili).Trust me, my lord! a woman's trick has duped you—Us too—but most of all, the sainted Andreas.Even for his own fair fame, his grace prays hourlyFor her recovery, that (the States convened)280She may take counsel of her friends.
Emerick.What? Raab Kiuprili? What? a father's swordAgainst his own son's breast?
Raab Kiuprili.'Twould best excuse him,Were he thy son, Prince Emerick. I abjure him.
Emerick.This is my thanks, then, that I have commencedA reign to which the free voice of the nobles235Hath called me, and the people, by regardsOf love and grace to Raab Kiuprili's house?
Raab Kiuprili.What right hadst thou, Prince Emerick, to bestow them?
Emerick.By what right dares Kiuprili question me?
Raab Kiuprili.By a right common to all loyal subjects—240To me a duty! As the realm's co-regent,Appointed by our sovereign's last free act,Writ by himself.—[Grasping the Patent.
Emerick.Aye!—Writ in a delirium!
Raab Kiuprili.I likewise ask, by whose authority[892]The access to the sovereign was refused me?245
Emerick.By whose authority dared the general leaveHis camp and army, like a fugitive?
Raab Kiuprili.A fugitive, who, with victory for his comrade,Ran, open-eyed, upon the face of death!A fugitive, with no other fear, than bodements250To be belated in a loyal purpose—At the command, Prince! of my king and thine,Hither I came; and now again requireAudience of Queen Zapolya; and (the StatesForthwith convened) that thou dost shew at large,255On what ground of defect thou'st dared annulThis thy King's last and solemn act—hast daredAscend the throne, of which the law had named,And conscience should have made thee, a protector.
Emerick.A sovereign's ear ill brooks a subject's questioning!260Yet for thy past well-doing—and because'Tis hard to erase at once the fond beliefLong cherished, that Illyria had in theeNo dreaming priest's slave, but a Roman loverOf her true weal and freedom—and for this, too,265That, hoping to call forth to the broad day-lightAnd fostering breeze of glory all deservings,I still had placed thee foremost.
Raab Kiuprili.Prince! I listen.
Emerick.Unwillingly I tell thee, that Zapolya,Maddened with grief, her erring hopes proved idle—270
Casimir.Sire! speak the whole truth! Say, her fraud detected!
Emerick.According to the sworn attests in councilOf her physician——
Raab Kiuprili (aside).Yes! the Jew, Barzoni!
Emerick.Under the imminent risk of death she lies,Or irrecoverable loss of reason,275If known friend's face or voice renew the frenzy.
Casimir (to Kiuprili).Trust me, my lord! a woman's trick has duped you—Us too—but most of all, the sainted Andreas.Even for his own fair fame, his grace prays hourlyFor her recovery, that (the States convened)280She may take counsel of her friends.
Emerick.Right, Casimir!Receive my pledge, lord general. It shall standIn her own will to appear and voice her claims;Or (which in truth I hold the wiser course)With all the past passed by, as family quarrels,285Let the Queen Dowager, with unblenched honours,Resume her state, our first Illyrian matron.Raab Kiuprili.Prince Emerick! you speak fairly, and your pledge tooIs such, as well would suit an honest meaning.Casimir.My lord! you scarce know half his grace's goodness.290The wealthy heiress, high-born fair Sarolta,Bred in the convent of our noble ladies,Her relative, the venerable abbess,Hath, at his grace's urgence, wooed and won for me.Emerick.Long may the race, and long may that name flourish,295Which your heroic deeds, brave chief, have renderedDear and illustrious to all true Illyrians.Raab Kiuprili.The longest line that ever tracing heraldOr found or feigned, placed by a beggar's soulHath but a mushroom's date in the comparison:300And with the soul, the conscience is coeval,Yea, the soul's essence.Emerick.Conscience, good my lord,Is but the pulse of reason. Is it conscience,That a free nation should be handed down,Like the dull clods beneath our feet, by chance305And the blind law of lineage? That whether infant,Or man matured, a wise man or an idiot,Hero or natural coward, shall have guidanceOf a free people's destiny, should fall outIn the mere lottery of a reckless nature,310Where few the prizes and the blanks are countless?Or haply that a nation's fate should hangOn the bald accident of a midwife's handlingThe unclosed sutures of an infant's skull?Casimir.What better claim can sovereign wish or need315Than the free voice of men who love their country?Those chiefly who have fought for't? Who by right,Claim for their monarch one, who having obeyed,[894]So hath best learnt to govern; who, having suffered,Can feel for each brave sufferer and reward him?320Whence sprang the name of Emperor? Was it notBy Nature's fiat? In the storm of triumph,'Mid warriors' shouts, did her oracular voiceMake itself heard: Let the commanding spiritPossess the station of command!Raab Kiuprili.Prince Emerick,325Your cause will prosper best in your own pleading.Emerick (aside to Casimir).Ragozzi was thy school-mate—a bold spirit!Bind him to us!—Thy father thaws apace![Then aloud.Leave us awhile, my lord!—Your friend, Ragozzi,Whom you have not yet seen since his return,330Commands the guard to-day.
Emerick.Right, Casimir!Receive my pledge, lord general. It shall standIn her own will to appear and voice her claims;Or (which in truth I hold the wiser course)With all the past passed by, as family quarrels,285Let the Queen Dowager, with unblenched honours,Resume her state, our first Illyrian matron.
Raab Kiuprili.Prince Emerick! you speak fairly, and your pledge tooIs such, as well would suit an honest meaning.
Casimir.My lord! you scarce know half his grace's goodness.290The wealthy heiress, high-born fair Sarolta,Bred in the convent of our noble ladies,Her relative, the venerable abbess,Hath, at his grace's urgence, wooed and won for me.
Emerick.Long may the race, and long may that name flourish,295Which your heroic deeds, brave chief, have renderedDear and illustrious to all true Illyrians.
Raab Kiuprili.The longest line that ever tracing heraldOr found or feigned, placed by a beggar's soulHath but a mushroom's date in the comparison:300And with the soul, the conscience is coeval,Yea, the soul's essence.
Emerick.Conscience, good my lord,Is but the pulse of reason. Is it conscience,That a free nation should be handed down,Like the dull clods beneath our feet, by chance305And the blind law of lineage? That whether infant,Or man matured, a wise man or an idiot,Hero or natural coward, shall have guidanceOf a free people's destiny, should fall outIn the mere lottery of a reckless nature,310Where few the prizes and the blanks are countless?Or haply that a nation's fate should hangOn the bald accident of a midwife's handlingThe unclosed sutures of an infant's skull?
Casimir.What better claim can sovereign wish or need315Than the free voice of men who love their country?Those chiefly who have fought for't? Who by right,Claim for their monarch one, who having obeyed,[894]So hath best learnt to govern; who, having suffered,Can feel for each brave sufferer and reward him?320Whence sprang the name of Emperor? Was it notBy Nature's fiat? In the storm of triumph,'Mid warriors' shouts, did her oracular voiceMake itself heard: Let the commanding spiritPossess the station of command!
Raab Kiuprili.Prince Emerick,325Your cause will prosper best in your own pleading.
Emerick (aside to Casimir).Ragozzi was thy school-mate—a bold spirit!Bind him to us!—Thy father thaws apace![Then aloud.Leave us awhile, my lord!—Your friend, Ragozzi,Whom you have not yet seen since his return,330Commands the guard to-day.
[Casimirretires to the Guard-house; and after a time appears before it withChef Ragozzi.
We are alone.What further pledge or proof desires Kiuprili?Then, with your assent——Raab Kiuprili.Mistake not for assentThe unquiet silence of a stern resolveThrottling the impatient voice. I have heard thee, Prince!335And I have watched thee, too; but have small faith inA plausible tale told with a flitting eye.[Emerickturns as about to call for the Guard.In the next moment I am in thy power,In this thou art in mine. Stir but a step,Or make one sign—I swear by this good sword,340Thou diest that instant.Emerick.Ha, ha!—Well, Sir!—Conclude your homily.Raab Kiuprili.A tale which, whether true or false, comes guardedAgainst all means of proof, detects itself.The Queen mew'd up—this too from anxious care345And love brought forth of a sudden, a twin birthWith thy discovery of her plot to rob theeOf a rightful throne!—Mark how the scorpion, falsehood,Coils round in its own perplexity, and fixesIts sting in its own head!Emerick.Aye! to the mark!350
We are alone.What further pledge or proof desires Kiuprili?Then, with your assent——
Raab Kiuprili.Mistake not for assentThe unquiet silence of a stern resolveThrottling the impatient voice. I have heard thee, Prince!335And I have watched thee, too; but have small faith inA plausible tale told with a flitting eye.[Emerickturns as about to call for the Guard.In the next moment I am in thy power,In this thou art in mine. Stir but a step,Or make one sign—I swear by this good sword,340Thou diest that instant.
Emerick.Ha, ha!—Well, Sir!—Conclude your homily.
Raab Kiuprili.A tale which, whether true or false, comes guardedAgainst all means of proof, detects itself.The Queen mew'd up—this too from anxious care345And love brought forth of a sudden, a twin birthWith thy discovery of her plot to rob theeOf a rightful throne!—Mark how the scorpion, falsehood,Coils round in its own perplexity, and fixesIts sting in its own head!
Emerick.Aye! to the mark!350
Raab Kiuprili.Had'st thou believed thine own tale, had'st thou fanciedThyself the rightful successor of Andreas,Would'st thou have pilfered from our school-boys' themesThese shallow sophisms of a popular choice?What people? How convened? or, if convened,355Must not the magic power that charms togetherMillions of men in council, needs have powerTo win or wield them? Better, O far betterShout forth thy titles to yon circling mountains,And with a thousand-fold reverberation360Make the rocks flatter thee, and the volleying air,Unbribed, shout back to thee, King Emerick!By wholesome laws to embank the sovereign power,To deepen by restraint, and by preventionOf lawless will to amass and guide the flood365In its majestic channel, is man's taskAnd the true patriot's glory! In all elseMen safelier trust to Heaven, than to themselvesWhen least themselves in the mad whirl of crowdsWhere folly is contagious, and too oft370Even wise men leave their better sense at homeTo chide and wonder at them when returned.Emerick (aloud).Is't thus thou scoff'st the people? most of all,The soldiers, the defenders of the people?Raab Kiuprili.O most of all, most miserable nation,375For whom the imperial power, enormous bubble!Is blown and kept aloft, or burst and shatteredBy the bribed breath of a lewd soldiery!Chiefly of such, as from the frontiers far,(Which is the noblest station of true warriors)380In rank licentious idleness beleaguerCity and Court, a venomed thorn i'the sideOf virtuous kings, the tyrant's slave and tyrant,Still ravening for fresh largess! But with suchWhat title claim'st thou, save thy birth? What merits385Which many a liegeman may not plead as well,Brave though I grant thee? If a life outlabouredHead, heart, and fortunate arm, in watch and war,[896]For the land's fame and weal; if large acquests,Made honest by the aggression of the foe,390And whose best praise is, that they bring us safety;If victory, doubly-wreathed, whose under-garlandOf laurel-leaves looks greener and more sparklingThro' the grey olive-branch; if these, Prince Emerick!Give the true title to the throne, not thou—395No! (let Illyria, let the infidel enemyBe judge and arbiter between us!) I,I were the rightful sovereign!Emerick.I have faithThat thou both think'st and hop'st it. Fair Zapolya,A provident lady—Raab Kiuprili.Wretch beneath all answer!400Emerick.Offers at once the royal bed and throne!Raab Kiuprili.To be a kingdom's bulwark, a king's glory,Yet loved by both, and trusted, and trust-worthy,Is more than to be king; but see! thy rageFights with thy fear. I will relieve thee! Ho![To theGuard.405Emerick.Not for thy sword, but to entrap thee, ruffian!Thus long I have listened—Guard—ho! from the Palace.
Raab Kiuprili.Had'st thou believed thine own tale, had'st thou fanciedThyself the rightful successor of Andreas,Would'st thou have pilfered from our school-boys' themesThese shallow sophisms of a popular choice?What people? How convened? or, if convened,355Must not the magic power that charms togetherMillions of men in council, needs have powerTo win or wield them? Better, O far betterShout forth thy titles to yon circling mountains,And with a thousand-fold reverberation360Make the rocks flatter thee, and the volleying air,Unbribed, shout back to thee, King Emerick!By wholesome laws to embank the sovereign power,To deepen by restraint, and by preventionOf lawless will to amass and guide the flood365In its majestic channel, is man's taskAnd the true patriot's glory! In all elseMen safelier trust to Heaven, than to themselvesWhen least themselves in the mad whirl of crowdsWhere folly is contagious, and too oft370Even wise men leave their better sense at homeTo chide and wonder at them when returned.
Emerick (aloud).Is't thus thou scoff'st the people? most of all,The soldiers, the defenders of the people?
Raab Kiuprili.O most of all, most miserable nation,375For whom the imperial power, enormous bubble!Is blown and kept aloft, or burst and shatteredBy the bribed breath of a lewd soldiery!Chiefly of such, as from the frontiers far,(Which is the noblest station of true warriors)380In rank licentious idleness beleaguerCity and Court, a venomed thorn i'the sideOf virtuous kings, the tyrant's slave and tyrant,Still ravening for fresh largess! But with suchWhat title claim'st thou, save thy birth? What merits385Which many a liegeman may not plead as well,Brave though I grant thee? If a life outlabouredHead, heart, and fortunate arm, in watch and war,[896]For the land's fame and weal; if large acquests,Made honest by the aggression of the foe,390And whose best praise is, that they bring us safety;If victory, doubly-wreathed, whose under-garlandOf laurel-leaves looks greener and more sparklingThro' the grey olive-branch; if these, Prince Emerick!Give the true title to the throne, not thou—395No! (let Illyria, let the infidel enemyBe judge and arbiter between us!) I,I were the rightful sovereign!
Emerick.I have faithThat thou both think'st and hop'st it. Fair Zapolya,A provident lady—
Raab Kiuprili.Wretch beneath all answer!400
Emerick.Offers at once the royal bed and throne!
Raab Kiuprili.To be a kingdom's bulwark, a king's glory,Yet loved by both, and trusted, and trust-worthy,Is more than to be king; but see! thy rageFights with thy fear. I will relieve thee! Ho![To theGuard.405
Emerick.Not for thy sword, but to entrap thee, ruffian!Thus long I have listened—Guard—ho! from the Palace.
[TheGuardpost from the Guard-house withChef Ragozziat their head, and then a number from the Palace—Chef RagozzidemandsKiuprili'ssword, and apprehends him.