ZAPOLY A. A CHRISTMAS TALE. IN TWO PARTS. Πὰρ πυρὶ χρὴ τοιαῦτα λέγειν χειμῶνος ἐν ὥρᾳ. APUD ATHENÆUM. PART I. THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED THE “USURPER'S FORTUNE.” ADVERTISEMENT. THE form of the following dramatic poem is in humble imitation of the Winter's Tale of Shakspeare, except that I have called the first part a Prelude instead of a first Act, as a somewhat nearer resemblance to the plan of the ancients, of which one specimen is left us in the Eschylean Trilogy of the Agamemnon, the Orestes, and the Eumenides. Though a matter of form merely, yet two plays, on different periods of the same tale, might seem less bold, than an interval of twenty years between a first and second act. This is, however, in mere obedience to custom. The effect does not, in reality, at all depend on the time of the interval; but on a very different principle. There are cases in which an interval of twenty hours between the acts would have a worse effect (i. e. render the imagination less disposed to take the position required) than twenty years in other cases. For the rest, I shall be well content if my readers will take it up, read and judge it as a Christmas tale. CHARACTERS. EMERICK, Usurping King of Illyria. CHEF RAGOZZI, a Military Commander. ZAPOLYA. SCENE I-Front of the Palace with a magnificent Colonnade On one side a military Guard-house. ward and forward before the Palace. Sentries pacing back Chef Ragozzi, at the door of the Guard-house, as looking forwards at some object in the distance. C. Rag. My eyes deceive me not, it must be he, Lo! e'en this eager and unwonted haste But agitates, not quells, its majesty. 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. R. Kiu. (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, Are insults to a dying sovereign's ear. Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your General greets you, His loyal fellow-warriors. C. Rag. [Guards retire. Pardon my surprise. Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended! What may these wonders prophesy? R. Kiu. Tell me first, How fares the king? His majesty still lives? C. Rag. We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends (And none but they approach him) scoff at hope. R. Kiu. Ragozzi! I have reared thee from a child, And as a child I have reared thee. Whence this air Of mystery? That face was wont to open Clear as the morning to me, showing all things. C. Rag. O most loved, most honored, And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears. R. Kiu. I have trembling proof within, how true thou speakest. C. Rag. 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 But what my lord will learn too soon himself. R. Kiu. 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 The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm, 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. C. Rag. Remember you, my lord! that Hebrew leech, Whose face so much distempered you? R. Kiu. Barzoni? I held him for a spy; but the proof failing C. Rag. R. Kiu. Hide nothing, I conjure you! What of him? That 'twere a useless and a cruel zeal To rob a dying man of any hope, However vain, that soothes him: and, in fine, R. Kiu. The venomous snake! My heel was on its hea And (fool!) I did not crush it! C. Rag. Nay, he fears, Zapolya will not long survive her husband. R. Kiu. Manifest treason! Even this brief delay Half makes me an accomplice -(If he live,) [Is moving towards the palace. If he but live and know ine, all may C. Rag. Halt! [Stops him. On pain of death, my Lord! am I commanded C. Rag. No place, no name, no rank excepted— C. Rag. This life of mine, O take it, Lord Kiuprili! Mine own no longer. Guardian of Illyria, One honorable hope, but calls thee father. Yet ere thou dost resolve, know that yon palace Is thronged by armed conspirators, watched by ruffians Which that false promiser still trails before them Till I can lose it for the realm and thee! R. Kiu. 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? Have we embraced as brothers would embrace? |