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You have agreed to sell your soldiers' blood, Unto no easy service :-hardships, toils,
And we have shed our dearest blood for you. The hottest dangers of most dreadful fight
Bas. Hear me, my soldiers-

Will be your portion; and when all is o'er, 2d Sol. No, hear him not, he means to cozen you. Each, like his general, must contented be Frederick will do you right

Home to return again, a poor brave soldier. (Endeavouring to stir up a noise and confusion How say ye now? I spread no tempting lureamongst them.)

A better fate than this, I promise none. Bas. What cursed fiend art thou, cast out from Soldiers. We'll follow Basil. hell

Bas. What token of obedience will ye give ? To spirit up rebellion ? damned villain

(A deep pause.) (Seizes upon 20 Soldier, drags him out from the Soldiers, lay down your arms ! ranks, and wrests his arms from him ; then

(They all lay down their arms.) takes a pistol from his side, and holds it to his If any here are weary of the service, head.)

Now let them quit the ranks, and they shall have Stand there, damn'd meddling villain, and be silent; A free discharge, and passport to their homes; For if thou utterest but a single word,

And from my scanty fortune I'll make good A cough or hem, to cross me in my speech, The well-earn'd pay their royal master owes them. I'll send thy cursed spirit from the earth,

Let those who follow me their arms resume. To bellow with the damn'd!

(They all resume their arms.) (The Soldiers keep a dead silence after a pause,

Bas. (holding up his hands.) High heaven be Basil resumes his speech.)

praised ! Listen to me, my soldiers.

I had been grieved to part with you, my soldiers. You say that I am to the emperor pledged

Here is a letter from my gracious master, To lead you foremost in all desperate service,

With offers of preferment in the north, For now you call it not the path of glory;

Most high preferment, which I did refuse, And if in this I have offended you,

For that I would not leave my gallant troops. I do indeed repent me of the crime.

(Takes out a letter, and throws it amongst them.) But new from battles, where my native troops

(A great commotion amongst the Soldiers ; many So bravely fought, I felt me proud at heart,

of them quit their ranks, and crowd about kiin, And boasted of you, boasted foolishly.

calling out) I said, fair glory's palm ye would not yield

Our gallant general !

(Others call out) To e'er the bravest legion train’d to arms.

We'll spend our hearts' blood for thee, noble I swore the meanest man of all my troops

Basil! Would never shrink before an armed host,

Bas. And so you thought me false ? this bites to If honour bade him stand. My royal master

the quick ! Smiled at the ardour of my heedless words, My soldiers thought me false ! And promised, when occasion claim'd our arms, (They all quit their ranks, and croud eagerly To put them to the proof.

around him. Basil, waving them off with his But ye do peace, and ease, and booty love,

hands.) Safe and ignoble service—be it so

Away, away, you have disgusted me! Forgive me that I did mistake you thus,

(Soldiers retire to their ranks.) But do not earn with savage mutiny,

'Tis well--retire, and hold yourselves prepared Your own destruction. We'll for Pavia march,

To march upon command, nor meet again To join the royal army near its walls;

Till you are summon'd by the beat of drum. And there with blushing forehead will I plead,

Some secret enemy has tamper'd with you, That ye are men with warlike service worn,

For yet I will not think that in these ranks Requiring ease and rest. Some other chief, There moves a man who wears a traitor's heart. Whose cold blood boils not at the trumpet's sound, (The Soldiers begin to march off, and music Will in your rearward station head you then,

strikes up.) And so, my friends, we'll part. As for myself, Bas. (holding up his hand.) Cease, cease, A volunteer, unheeded in the ranks,

triumphant sounds, I'll rather flight, with brave men for my fellows,

Which our brave fathers, men without reproach, Than be the leader of a sordid band.

Raised in the hour of triumph! but this hour (A great murmur rises amongst the ranks, Sol- To us no glory bringsdiers call out)

Then silent be your march-ere that again We will not part ! no, no, we will not part !

Our steps to glorious strains like these shall move,

(All call out together) A day of battle o'er our heads must pass, We will not part! be thou our general still. And blood be shed to wash out this day's stain. Bas. How can I be your general? ye obey

[EXEUNT Soldiers, silent and dejected. As caprice moves you ; I must be obey'd

Enter FREDERICK, who starts back on seeing BASIL As honest men against themselves perform

alone. A sacred oath.

Bas. Advance, lieutenant; wherefore shrink ye Some other chief will more indulgent prove

back? You're weary grown-I've been too hard a master- I've even seen you bear your head erect,

Soldiers. Thyself, and only thee, will we obey. And front your man though arm’d with frowning Bas. But if you follow me, yourselves ye pledge


Have you done aught the valiant should not do? And cursed thine ill-timed absence.
I fear you have.

(Fred. looks confused.) There's treason in this most deceitful court, With secret art, and false insinuation,

Against thee plotting, and this morning's tumult, The simple untaught soldiers to seduce

Hath been its damn'd effect. From their sworn duty, might become the base, Bas.

Nay, nay, my friend ! Become the coward well; but 0! what villain The nature of man's mind too well thou knowest, IIad the dark power to engage thy valiant worth To judge as vulgar hoodwink'd statesmen do ; In such a work as this !

Who, ever with their own poor wiles misled, Fred. Is Basil, then, so lavish of his praise Believe each popular tumult or commotion On a neglected pitiful subaltern ?

Must be the work of deep-laid policy. It were a libel on his royal master;

Poor, mean, mechanic souls, who little know A foul reproach upon fair fortune cast,

A few short words of energetic force, To call me valiant :

Some powerful passion on the sudden roused, And surely he has been too much their debtor The animating sight of something noble, To mean them this rebuke.

Some fond trait of the memory finely waked, Bas. Is nature then so sparing of her gifts, A sound, a simple song without design, That it is wonderful when they are found

In revolutions, tumults, wars, rebellions, Where fortune smiles not?

All grand events, have oft effected more Thou art by nature brave and so am I;

Than deepest cunning of their paltry art. But in those distant ranks moves there not one Some drunken soldier, eloquent with wine,

(pointing off the stage.) Who loves not fighting, hath harangued his mates, Of high ennobled soul, by nature formd

For they in truth some hardships have endured : A hero and commander, who will yet

Wherefore in this should we suspect the court ? In bis untrophied grave forgotten lie

Ros. Ah! there is something, friend, in Mantua's With meaner men ? I dare be sworn there does.

court, Fred. What need of words ? I crave of thee no Will make the blackest trait of barefaced treason, favour,

Seem fair and guiltless to thy partial eye. I have offended 'gainst arm'd law, offended,

Bas. Nay, 'tis a weakness in thee, Rosinberg, And shrink not from my doom.

Which makes thy mind so jealous and distrustful. Bas. I know thee well, I know thou fear’st not Why should the Duke be false ? death;

Ros. Because he is a double, crafty princeOn scaffold or in field with dauntless breast Because I've heard it rumour'd secretly, Thou wilt engage him: and if thy proud soul, That he in some dark treaty is engaged, In sullen obstinacy, scorns all grace,

E’en with our master's enemy, the Frank. E'en be it so. But if with manly gratitude

Bas. And so thou thinkestThou truly canst receive a brave man's pardon, Ros.

Nay, hear me to the end. Thou hast it freely.

Last night that good and honourable dame,
Fred. It must not be. I've been thine enemy-Noble Albini, with most friendly art,
I've been unjust to thee-

From the gay clamorous throng my steps beguiled, Bas.

I know thou hast; Unmask'd before me, and with earnest grace But thou art brave, and I forgive thee all.



if I were Basil's friend, Fred. My lord ! my general! 0 I cannot To tell him hidden danger waits him here, speak!

And warn him earnestly this court to leave. I cannot live and be the wretch I am.

She said she loved thee much ; and hadst thou seen Bas. But thou canst live and be an honest man How anxiously she urgedFrom error turn'd, -canst live and be my friend. Bas. (interrupting him.) By heaven and earth

(Raising Fred. from the ground.) There is a ray of light breaks through thy tale, Forbear, forbear! see where our friends advance : And I could leap like madmen in their freaks, They must not think thee suing for a pardon ; So blessed is the gleam! Ah! no, no, no ! That would disgrace us both. Yet, ere they come, It cannot be ! alas, it cannot be ! Tell me, if that thou mayst with honour tell, Yet didst thou say, she urged it earnestly? What did seduce thee from thy loyal faith? She is a woman, who avoids all share

Fred. No cunning traitor did my faith attempt, In secret politics ; one only charge For then I had withstood him : but of late, Her interest claims, Victoria's guardian friendI know not how-a bad and restless spirit

And she would have me hence it must be so. Has work'd within my breast, and made me 0! would it were ! how saidst thou, gentle Rosinwretched.

berg? I've lent mine ear to foolish idle tales,

She urged it earnestly-how did she urge it! Of very zealous, though but recent friends. Nay, prithee do not stare upon me thus, Bas. Softly, our friends approach of this again. But tell me all her words! What said she ?

[EXEUNT. Ros. O Basil ! I could laugh to see thy folly,

But that thy weakness doth provoke me so.

Most admirable, brave, determined man !

So well, so lately tried, what art thou now? Ros. Thank heaven I am now alone with thee. A vain deceitful thought transports thee thus. Last night I sought thee with an anxious mind, Thinkst thou


I will not tell thee what I think. And I might yet from some high towering cliff
Ros. But I can guess it well, and it deceives thee. Perceive her distant mansion from afar,
Leave this detested place, this fatal court,

Or mark its blue smoke rising eve and morn ;
Where dark deceitful cunning plots thy ruin. Nay, though within the circle of the moon
A soldier's duty calls thee loudly hence.

Some spell did fix her, never to return,
The time is critical. How wilt thou feel

And I might wander in the hours of night,
When they shall tell these tidings in thine ear, And upward turn my ever-gazing eye,
That brave Piscaro, and his royal troops,

Fondly to mark upon its varied disk
Our valiant fellows, have the enemy fought, Some little spot that might her dwelling be ;
Whilst we, so near at hand, lay loitering here? My fond, my fixed heart would still adore,
Bas. Thou dost disturb thy brain with fancied And own no other love. Away, away!

How canst thou say to one who loves like me, Our fortunes rest not on a point so nice,

Thou hast no hope ? That one short day should be of all this moment; Ros. But with such hope, my friend, how stand And yet this one short day will be to me

thy fears? Worth years of other time.

Are they so well refined ? how wilt thou bear Ros.

Nay, rather say, Ere long to hear, that some high-favour'd prince A day to darken all thy days beside.

Has won her heart, her hand, has married her? Confound the fatal beauty of that woman,

Though now unshackled, will it always be ? Which hath bewitch'd thee so !

Bas. By heaven thou dost contrive but to tor. Bas. 'Tis most ungenerous

To push me thus with rough unsparing hand, And hast a pleasure in the pain thou givest!
Where but the slightest touch is felt so dearly. There is malignity in what thou sayest.
It is unfriendly.

Ros. No, not malignity, but kindness, Basil, Ros. God knows my heart ! I would not give That fain would save thee from the yawning gulf, thee pain ;

To which blind passion guides thy heedless steps. But it disturbs me, Basil, vexes me

Bas. Go, rather save thyself To see thee so inthralled by a woman.

From the weak passion which has seized thy breast, If she is fair, others are fair as she.

T'assume authority with sage-like brow,
Some other face will like emotions raise,

And shape my actions by thine own caprice.
When thou canst better play a lover's part: I can direct myself.
But for the present,-fy upon it, Basil !


Yes, do thyself, Bas. What, is it possible thou hast behell, And let no artful woman do it for thee. Hast tarried by her too, her converse shared,

Bas. I scorn thy thought : it is beneath my scorn: Yet talk'st as though she were a common fair one, It is of meanness sprung-an artful woman! Such as a man may fancy and forget ?

0! she has all the loveliness of heaven Thou art not, sure, so dull and brutish

grown: And all its goodness too ! It is not so ; thou dost belie thy thoughts,

Ros. I mean not to impute dishonest arts,
And vainly try'st to gain me with the cheat. I mean not to impute-
Ros. So thinks each lover of the maid he loves, Bas.

No, 'faith thou canst not. Yet, in their lives, some many maidens love. Ros. What, can I not ? their arts all women Fy on it! leave this town, and be a soldier:

have. Bas. Have done, have done! why dost thou bate But now of this no more ; it moves thee greatly. me thus ?

Yet once again, as a most loving friend,
Thy words become disgusting to me, Rosinberg. Let me conjure thee, if thou prizest honour,
What claim hast thou my actions to control ? A soldier's fair repute, a hero's fame,
I'll Mantua leave when it is fit I should.

What noble spirits love, and well I know
Ros. Then, 'faith! 'tis fitting thou shouldst leave Full dearly dost thou prize them, leave this place,

And give thy soldiers orders for the march. Ay, on the instant. Is't not desperation

Bas. Nay, since thou must assume it o'er me To stay, and hazard ruin on thy fame,

thus, Though yet uncheer'd e'en by that tempting lure, Be general, and command my soldiers too. No lover breathes without ? thou hast no hope. Ros. What, hath this passion in so short a space, Bas. What, dost thou mean-curse on the paltry 0! curses on it! so far changed thee, Basil, thought !

That thou dost take with such ungentle warith, That I should count and bargain with my heart, The kindly freedom of thine ancient friend : Upon the chances of unstinted favour,

Methinks the beauty of a thousand maids As little souls their base-bred fancies feed ? Would not have moved me thus to treat my friend, 0! were I conscious that within her breast

My best, mine earliest friend! I held some portion of her dear regard,

Bas. Say kinsman rather ; chance has link'd us Though pent for life within a prison's walls, Where through my grate I yet might sometimes see Our blood is near, our hearts are sever'd far; E'en but her shadow sporting in the sun ;

No act of choice did e'er unite our souls. Though placed by fate where some obstructing Men most unlike we are; our thoughts unlike; bound,

My breast disowns thee—thou'rt no friend of Somc deep impassable between us roll's,


it now;


Ros. Ah! have I then so long, so dearly loved Ros. (hanging over him with pity and affection.) thee;

Alas ! my friend! So often, with an elder brother's care,

Bas. In all her lovely grace she disappear’d, Thy childish rambles tended, shared thy sports ; Ah! little thought I never to return ! Fill'd up by stealth thy weary school-boy's task ; Ros. Why so desponding ? think of warlike glory. Taught thy young arms thine earliest feats of the fields of fair renown are still before thee; strength;

Who would not burn such noble fame to earn ? With boastful pride thine early rise beheld

Bas. What now are arms, or fair renown to me? In glory's paths, contented then to fill

Strive for it those who will—and yet, a while, A second place, so I might serve with thee; Welcome rough war ; with all thy scenes of blood; And say'st thou now, I am no friend of thine ?

(starting from his seat.) Well, be it so; I am thy kinsman then,

Thy roaring thunders, and thy clashing steel! And by that title will I save thy name,

Welcome once more ! what have I now to do From danger of disgrace. Indulge thy will. But play the brave man o'er again, and die? I'll lay me down and feign that I am sick:

Enter ISABELLA. And yet I shall not feign-I shall not feign ;

Isab. (to Bas.) My princess bids me greet you: For thy unkindness makes me so indeed.

noble count:
It will be said that Basil tarried here
To save his friend, for so they'll call me still ;

Bas. (starting.) What dost thou say?

Damn this untimely message! Nor will dishonour fall upon thy name

Isab. The princess bids me greet you, noble For such a kindly deed.

count: (Basil walks up and down in great agitation, then In the cool grove, hard by the southern gate

stops, covers his face with his hands, and seems She with her trainto be overcome. Rosinberg looks at him ear


What, she indeed, herself? nestly.)

Isab. Herself, my lord, and she requests to see O blessed heaven, he weeps !

you. (Runs up to him, and catches him in his arms.)

Bas. Thank heaven for this ! I will be there anon. O Basil! I have been too hard upon thee.

Ros. (taking hold of him.) Stay, stay, and do And is it possible I've moved thee thus ?

not be a madman still. Bas. (in a convulsed, broken voice.) I will re

Bas. Let go thy hold: what, must I be a brute, nounce-I'll leave Ros.

A very brute to please thee? no, by heaven! What says my Basil ?

(Breaks from him, and Exrr.) Bas. I'll Mantua leave-I'll leave this seat of

Ros. (striking his forehead.) All lost again ! ill bliss

fortune light upon her! This lovely woman-tear my heart in twain

(Turning eagerly to Isab.) Cast off at once my little span of joy

And so thy virtuous mistress sends thee here Be wretched-miserable—whate'er thou wilt

To make appointments, honourable dame? Dost thou forgive me?

Isab. Not so, my lord, you must not call it so: - Ros O my friend! my friend !

The court will hunt to-morrow, and Victoria I love thee now more than I ever loved thee.

Would have your noble general of her train. I must be cruel to thee to be kind :

Ros. Confound these women, and their artful Each pang I see thee feel strikes through my

snares, heart;

Since men will be such fools ! Then spare us both, call up thy noble spirit, Isab. Yes, grumble at our empire as you willAnd meet the blow at once. Thy troops 'are Ros. What, boast ye of it? empire do ye call it ? ready

It is your shame! a short-lived tyranny, Let us depart, nor lose another hour.

That ends at last in hatred and contempt. (Basil shrinks from his arms, and looks at him

Isab. Nay, but some women do so wisely rule, with somewhat of an upbraiding, at the same Their subjects never from the yoke escape. time a sorrowful look.)

Ros. Some women do, but they are rarely found. Bas. Nay, put me not to death upon the instant; There is not one in all your paltry court I'll see her once again, and then depart.

Hath wit enough for the ungenerous task. Ros. See her but once again, and thou art ruin'd! | 'Faith! of you all, not one, but brave Albini, It must not be—if thou regardest me

And she disdains it-Good be with you, lady! Bas. Well then, it shall not be. Thou hast no

(Going.) mercy !

Isab. O would I could but touch that stubborn Ros. Ah! thou wilt bless me all thine after-life

heart! For what now seems to thee so merciless.

How dearly should he pay for this hour's scorn! Bas. (sitting down very dejectedly.) Mine after

[EXEUNT severally. life! what is mine after-life? My day is closed ! the gloom of night is come! SCENE IV.-A SUMMER APARTMENT IN THE COUNA hopeless darkness settles o'er my fate.

TRY, THE WINDOWS OF WHICH LOOK TO A FOREST. I've seen the last look of her heavenly eyes; Enter Victoria in a hunting dress, followed by ALBINI I've heard the last sounds of her blessed voice ;

and ISABELLA, speaking as they enter. I've seen her fair form from my sight depart: Vict. (to Alb.) And so you will not share our My doora is closed !

sport to-day?




Alb. My days of frolic should ere this be o'er, Vain, fanciful, and fond of worthless praise ;
But thou, my charge, hast kept me youthful still. Courteous and gentle, proud and magnificent:
I should most gladly go; but since the dawn, And yet these adverse qualities in thee,
A heavy sickness hangs upon my heart;

No dissonance, nor striking contrast make ;
I cannot hunt to-day.

For still thy good and amiable gifts Vict. I'll stay at home and nurse thee, dear Al-The sober dignity of virtue wear not, bini.

And such a 'witching mien thy follies show, Alb. No, no, thou shalt not stay.

They make a very idiot of reproof, Vict.

Nay, but I will. And smile it to disgrace.I cannot follow to the cheerful horn

What shall I do with thee ?-It grieves me much, Whilst thou art sick at home.

To hear Count Basil is not yet departed. Alb.

Not very sick. When from the chase he comes, I'll watch his steps, Rather than thou shouldst stay, my gentle child, And speak to him myself.l'll mount my horse, and go e'en as I am.

0! I could hate her for that poor ambition Vict. Nay, then I'll go, and soon return again. Which silly adoration only claims, Meanwhile, do thou be careful of thyself.

But that I well remember, in my youth Isab. Hark, hark! the shrill horns call us to the I felt the like—I did not feel it long: field:

I tore it soon, indignant from my breast, Your highness hears it? (Music without.) As that which did degrade a noble mind. (Exit. Vict.

Yes, my Isabella;
I hear it, and methinks e’en at the sound

I vault already on my leathern seat,
And feel the fiery steed beneath me shake

Music and horns heard afar off, whilst huntsmen and His mantled sides, and paw the fretted earth

dogs appear passing over the stage, at a great distance. Whilst I aloft, with gay equestrian grace,

Enter VICTORIA and Basil, as if just a lighted from The low salute of gallant lords return,

their horses. Who waiting round with eager watchful eye, Vict. (speaking to attendants without.) Lead on And reined steeds, the happy moments seize.

our horses to the further grove, 0! didst thou never hear, my Isabel,

And wait us there. How nobly Basil in the field becomes

(To Bas.) This spot so pleasing, and so fragrant is, His fiery courser's back?

"Twere sacrilege with horses' hoofs to wear Isab,

They say most gracefully. Its velvet turf, where little elfins dance, Alb. What, is the valiant count not yet departed ? | And fairies sport beneath the summer's moon ;

Vict. You would not have our gallant Basil go I love to tread upon it. When I have bid him stay? not so, Albini.

Bas. 0! I would quit the chariot of a god Alb. Fy! reigns that spirit still so strongly in For such delightful footing! thee,


I love this spot. Which vainly covets all men's admiration,

Bas. It is a spot where one would live and die And is to others cause of cruel pain ?

Vict. See, through the twisted boughs of those 0! would thou couldst subdue it!

high elms, Vict. My gentle friend, thou shouldst not be The sunbeams on the brightning foliage play, severe :

And tinge the scaled bark with ruddy brown. For now in truth I love not admiration

Is it not beautiful ? As I was wont to do; in truth I do not.

Bas. As though an angel, in his upward flight, But yet, this once my woman's heart excuse, Had left his mantle floating in mid air. For there is something strange in this man's love, Vict. Still most unlike a garment; small and I never met before, and I must prove it.

sever'd : Alb. Well, prove it then, be stricken too thyself, (Turning round, and perceiving that he is And bid sweet peace of mind a sad farewell.

gazing at her.) Vict. O no! that will not be! 'twill peace re- But thou regard'st them not. store :

Bas. Ah! what should I regard, where should I For after this, all folly of the kind

gaze? Will quite insipid and disgusting seem;

For in that far shot glance, so keenly waked, And so I shall become a prudent maid,

That sweetly rising smile of admiration, And passing wise at last. (Music heard without.) Far better do I learn how fair heaven is,

Hark, hark ! again! Than if I gazed upon the blue serene. All good be with you! I'll return ere long.

Vict. Remember you have promised, gentle [Exeunt Victoria and Isabella.

count, Alb. (sola.) Ay, go, and every blessing with thee No more to vex me with such foolish words. go,

Bas. Ah ! wherefore should my tongue alone be My most tormenting, and most pleasing charge!

from the mountain stream art thou, When every look and every motion tell,
Which lightly rises on the morning air,

So plainly tell, and will not be forbid,
And shifts its Meeting form with every breeze, That I adore thee, love thee, worship thee!
For ever varying, and for ever graceful.

(Victoria looks haughty and displeased.) Endearing, generous, bountiful and kind;

Ah! pardon me, I know not what I say.

Like vapour,

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