Samuel Coleridge - The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Flash on their visages a dreadful light — 155

I saw them whilst the black blood roll’d adown

Each stern face, even then with dauntless eye

Scowl round contemptuous, dying as they lived,

Fearless of fate! [Loud and repeated applauses.

Barrere mounts the Tribune. For ever hallowed be this glorious

day, 160

When Freedom, bursting her oppressive chain,

Tramples on the oppressor. When the tyrant

Hurl’d from his blood-cemented throne, by the arm

Of the almighty people, meets the death

He plann’d for thousands. Oh! my sickening heart 165

Has sunk within me, when the various woes

Of my brave country crowded o’er my brain

In ghastly numbers — when assembled hordes,

Dragg’d from their hovels by despotic power,

Rush’d o’er her frontiers, plunder’d her fair hamlets, 170

And sack’d her populous towns, and drench’d with blood

The reeking fields of Flanders. — When within,

Upon her vitals prey’d the rankling tooth

Of treason; and oppression, giant form,

Trampling on freedom, left the alternative 175

Of slavery, or of death. Even from that day,

When, on the guilty Capet, I pronounced

The doom of injured France, has faction reared

Her hated head amongst us. Roland preach’d

Of mercy — the uxorious dotard Roland, 180

The woman-govern’d Roland durst aspire

To govern France; and Petion talk’d of virtue,

And Vergniaud’s eloquence, like the honeyed tongue

Of some soft Syren wooed us to destruction.

We triumphed over these. On the same scaffold 185

Where the last Louis pour’d his guilty blood,

Fell Brissot’s head, the womb of darksome treasons,

And Orleans, villain kinsman of the Capet,

And Hébert’s atheist crew, whose maddening hand

Hurl’d down the altars of the living God, 190

With all the infidel’s intolerance.

The last worst traitor triumphed — triumph’d long,

Secur’d by matchless villainy — by turns

Defending and deserting each accomplice

As interest prompted. In the goodly soil 195

Of Freedom, the foul tree of treason struck

Its deep-fix’d roots, and dropt the dews of death

On all who slumber’d in its specious shade.

He wove the web of treachery. He caught

The listening crowd by his wild eloquence, 200

His cool ferocity that persuaded murder,

Even whilst it spake of mercy! — never, never

Shall this regenerated country wear

The despot yoke. Though myriads round assail,

And with worse fury urge this new crusade 205

Than savages have known; though the leagued despots

Depopulate all Europe, so to pour

The accumulated mass upon our coasts,

Sublime amid the storm shall France arise,

And like the rock amid surrounding waves 210

Repel the rushing ocean. — She shall wield

The thunderbolt of vengeance — she shall blast

The despot’s pride, and liberate the world!

FINIS

Table of Contents

PART I: THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED ‘THE USURPER’S FORTUNE’

CHARACTERS

SCENE I

PART II: THE SEQUEL, ENTITLED ‘THE USURPER’S FATE

ADDITIONAL CHARACTERS

ACT I

SCENE I

ACT II

SCENE I

ACT III

SCENE I

ACT IV

SCENE I

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

EMERICK, Usurping King of Illyria.

RAAB KIUPRILI, an Illyrian Chieftain.

CASIMIR, Son of KIUPRILI.

CHEF RAGOZZI, a Military Commander.

ZAPOLYA, Queen of Illyria.

Table of Contents

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, who

But Raab Kiuprili moves with such a gait?

Lo! e’en this eager and unwonted haste

But agitates, not quells, its majesty. 5

My patron! my commander! yes, ‘tis he!

Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes.

[Drums beat, &c., the Guard turns out.

Enter RAAB 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, 10

Are 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, 15

How 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,

And as a child I have reared thee. Whence this air 20

Of mystery? That face was wont to open

Clear 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 looks

Betrayed my whole tale to thee, if it told thee 25

That I am ignorant; but fear the worst.

And mystery is contagious. All things here

Are 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 promises

Makes himself debtor — hearing this, thou hast heard

All —— 35

But 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 hand

Of royal Andreas calls me from the camp

To his immediate presence. It appoints me, 40

The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm,

And of the royal infant. Day by day,

Robbed of Zapolya’s soothing cares, the king

Yearns 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 leech

Whose 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, 50

Prince 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; hints 55

That ‘twere a useless and a cruel zeal

To 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, 60

And (fool!) I did not crush it!

Chef Ragozzi. Nay, he fears

Zapolya will not long survive her husband.

Raab Kiuprili. Manifest treason! Even this brief delay

Half makes me an accomplice —— (If he live,)

[Is moving toward the palace.

If he but live and know me, all may ——