Samuel Coleridge - The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The head that bore it: so with steady eye

Off flew the parricidal arrow. — Even

As Casimir loved Emerick, Emerick 50

Loves Casimir, intends him no dishonour.

He winked not then, for love of me forsooth!

For love of me now let him wink! Or if

The dame prove half as wise as she is fair,

He may still pass his hand, and find all smooth. 55

[Passing his hand across his brow.

Laska. Your Majesty’s reasoning has convinced me.

Emerick. Thee!

‘Tis well! and more than meant. For by my faith

I had half forgotten thee. — Thou hast the key? [LASKA bows.

And in your lady’s chamber there’s full space?

Laska. Between the wall and arras to conceal you. 60

Emerick. Here! This purse is but an earnest of thy fortune,

If thou prov’st faithful. But if thou betrayest me,

Hark you! — the wolf that shall drag thee to his den

Shall be no fiction.

[Exit EMERICK. LASKA manet with a key in one hand, and a

purse in the other.

Laska. Well then! here I stand,

Like Hercules, on either side a goddess. 65

Call this (looking at the purse)

Preferment; this (holding up the key) Fidelity!

And first my golden goddess: what bids she?

Only:—’This way, your Majesty! hush! The household

Are all safe lodged.’ — Then, put Fidelity

Within her proper wards, just turn her round — 70

So — the door opens — and for all the rest,

‘Tis the king’s deed, not Laska’s. Do but this

And—’I’m the mere earnest of your future fortunes.’

But what says the other? — Whisper on! I hear you!

[Putting the key to his ear.

All very true! — but, good Fidelity! 75

If I refuse King Emerick, will you promise,

And swear now, to unlock the dungeon door,

And save me from the hangman? Aye! you’re silent!

What, not a word in answer? A clear nonsuit!

Now for one look to see that all are lodged 80

At the due distance — then — yonder lies the road

For Laska and his royal friend, King Emerick!

[Exit LASKA. Then enter BATHORY and BETHLEN.

Bethlen. He looked as if he were some God disguised

In an old warrior’s venerable shape

To guard and guide my mother. Is there not 85

Chapel or oratory in this mansion?

Old Bathory. Even so.

Bethlen. From that place then am I to take

A helm and breastplate, both inlaid with gold,

And the good sword that once was Raab Kiuprili’s.

Old Bathory. Those very arms this day Sarolta show’d me — 90

With wistful look. I’m lost in wild conjectures!

Bethlen. O tempt me not, e’en with a wandering guess,

To break the first command a mother’s will

Imposed, a mother’s voice made known to me!

‘Ask not, my son,’ said she, ‘our names or thine. 95

The shadow of the eclipse is passing off

The full orb of thy destiny! Already

The victor Crescent glitters forth and sheds

O’er the yet lingering haze a phantom light.

Thou canst not hasten it! Leave then to Heaven 100

The work of Heaven: and with a silent spirit

Sympathize with the powers that work in silence!’

Thus spake she, and she looked as she were then

Fresh from some heavenly vision!

[Re-enter LASKA, not perceiving them.

Laska. All asleep!

[Then observing BETHLEN, stands in idiot-affright.

I must speak to it first — Put — put the question! 105

I’ll confess all! [Stammering with fear.

Old Bathory. Laska! what ails thee, man?

Laska (pointing to Bethlen). There!

Old Bathory. I see nothing! where?

Laska. He does

not see it!

Bethlen, torment me not!

Bethlen. Soft! Rouse him gently!

He hath outwatched his hour, and half asleep,

With eyes half open, mingles sight with dreams. 110

Old Bathory. Ho! Laska! Don’t you know us! ‘tis Bathory

And Bethlen!

Laska. Good now! Ha! ha! An excellent trick.

Afraid? Nay, no offence! But I must laugh.

But are you sure now, that ‘tis you, yourself?

Bethlen. Would’st be convinced?

Laska. No nearer, pray! consider! 115

If it should prove his ghost, the touch would freeze me

To a tombstone. No nearer!

Bethlen. The fool is drunk!

Laska. Well now! I love a brave man to my heart.

I myself braved the monster, and would fain

Have saved the false one from the fate she tempted. 120

Old Bathory. You, Laska?

Bethlen (to Bathory). Mark! Heaven grant it may be so!

Glycine?

Laska. She! I traced her by the voice.

You’ll scarce believe me, when I say I heard

The close of a song: the poor wretch had been singing:

As if she wished to compliment the war-wolf 125

At once with music and a meal!

Bethlen (to Bathory). Mark that!

Laska. At the next moment I beheld her running,

Wringing her hands with, ‘Bethlen! O poor Bethlen!’

I almost fear, the sudden noise I made,

Rushing impetuous through the brake, alarmed her. 130

She stopt, then mad with fear, turned round and ran

Into the monster’s gripe. One piteous scream

I heard. There was no second — I —

Bethlen. Stop there!

We’ll spare your modesty! Who dares not honour

Laska’s brave tongue, and high heroic fancy? 135

Laska. You too, Sir Knight, have come back safe and sound!

You played the hero at a cautious distance!

Or was it that you sent the poor girl forward

To stay the monster’s stomach? Dainties quickly

Pall on the taste and cloy the appetite! 140

Old Bathory. Laska, beware! Forget not what thou art!

Should’st thou but dream thou’rt valiant, cross thyself!

And ache all over at the dangerous fancy!

Laska. What then! you swell upon my lady’s favour,

High Lords and perilous of one day’s growth! 145

But other judges now sit on the bench!

And haply, Laska hath found audience there,

Where to defend the treason of a son

Might end in lifting up both son and father

Still higher; to a height from which indeed 150

You both may drop, but, spite of fate and fortune,

Will be secured from falling to the ground.

‘Tis possible too, young man! that royal Emerick,

At Laska’s rightful suit, may make inquiry

By whom seduced, the maid so strangely missing — 155

Bethlen. Soft! my good Laska! might it not suffice,

If to yourself, being Lord Casimir’s steward,

I should make record of Glycine’s fate?

Laska. ‘Tis well! it shall content me! though your fear

Has all the credit of these lowered tones. 160

First we demand the manner of her death?

Bethlen. Nay! that’s superfluous! Have you not just told us,

That you yourself, led by impetuous valour,

Witnessed the whole? My tale’s of later date.

After the fate, from which your valour strove 165

In vain to rescue the rash maid, I saw her!

Laska. Glycine?

Bethlen. Nay! Dare I accuse wise Laska,

Whose words find access to a monarch’s ear,

Of a base, braggart lie? It must have been

Her spirit that appeared to me. But haply 170

I come too late? It has itself delivered

Its own commission to you?

Old Bathory. ‘Tis most likely!

And the ghost doubtless vanished, when we entered

And found brave Laska staring wide — at nothing!

Laska. ‘Tis well! You’ve ready wits! I shall report them, 175

With all due honour, to his Majesty!

Treasure them up, I pray! A certain person,

Whom the king flatters with his confidence,

Tells you, his royal friend asks startling questions!

‘Tis but a hint! And now what says the ghost! 180

Bethlen. Listen! for thus it spake: ‘Say thou to Laska,