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the stage.

Alb. I must be gone: thou hast o'ercome me now: Then she look'd so, and smiled to him again. Another time I will not yield it so. [Exit.

(Throwing down his eyes affectedly.) Isab. The countess is severe; she's too severe:

Isab. Thou art a little knave, and must be wbipp'd She once was young, though now advanced in years.

[Exeunt, Mirando leading out Victoria Vict. No, I deserve it all; she is most worthy.

affectedly.
Unlike those faded beauties of the court,
But now the wither'd stems of former flowers,

ACT III.
With all their blossoms shed, her nobler mind
Procures to her the privilege of man,

Scene I.-AN OPEN STREET, OR SQUARE. Ne'er to be old till nature's strength decays.

Enter RoSINBERG and Frederick, by opposite sides of Some few years hence, if I should live so long, I'd be Albini rather than myself.

Fred. So Basil, from the pressing calls of war, Isab. Here comes your little favourite.

Another day to rest and pastime gives. Vict. I am not in the humour for him now. How is it now? methinks thou art not pleased. Enter MIRANDO, running up to VICTORIA, and taking

Ros. It matters little if I am or not. hold of her gown, while she takes no notice of him, as Fred. Now pray thee do confess thou art ashamed: he holds up his mouth be kissed.

Thou, who art wisely wont to set at naught Isab. (to Mir.) Thou seest the princess can't be The noble fire of individual courage, troubled with thee.

And call calm prudence the superior virtue, Mir. O but she will! I'll scramble up her robe, What say'st thou now, my candid Rosinberg, As naughty boys do when they climb for apples. When thy great captain, in a time like this, Isa). Come here, sweet child; I'll kiss thee in Denies his weary troops one day of rest her stead.

Before th’exertions of approaching battle, Mir. Nay, but I will not have a kiss of thee. Yet grants it to a pretty lady's suit? Would I were tall! O were I but so tall!

Ros. Who told thee this ? it was no friendly tale; Isab. And how tall wouldst thou be?

And no one else, besides a trusty friend, Mir.

Thou dost not know ? Could know his motives. Then thou wrong'st me Just tall enough to reach Victoria's lips.

too ; Vict. (embracing him.) 0! I must bend to this, For I admire, as much as thou dost, Frederick, thou little urchin.

The fire of valour, e'en rash, heedless valour ; Who taught thee all this wit, this childish wit? But not like thee do I depreciate Whom does Mirando love? (embraces him again.) That far superior, yea, that godlike talent, Mir.

He loves Victoria. Which doth direct that fire, because indeed Vict. And wherefore loves he her?

It is a talent nature has denied me. Mir.

Because she's pretty.

Fred. Well, well, and greatly he may boast his Isab, Hast thou no little prate to-day, Mirando?

virtue, No tale to earn a sugar-plum withal ?

Who risks perhaps th’imperial army's fate, Mir. Ay, that I have: I know who loves her To please a lady's freaksgrace.

Ros.

Go, go, thou’rt prejudiced: Vict. Who is it, pray? thou shalt have comfits A passion, which I do not choose to name, for it.

Has warp'd thy judgment.
Mir. (looking slyly at her.) It is—it is--it is Fred. No, by heaven thou wrong'st me!
the Count of Maldo.

I do, with most enthusiastic warmth,
Vict. Away, thou little chit! that tale is old, True valour love: wherever he is found,
And was not worth a sugar-plum when new. I love the hero too; but hate to see
Mir. Well then, I know who loves her highness The praises due to him so cheaply earn'd.
well.

Ros. Then mayst thou now these generous feelVict. Who is it, then ?

ings prove. Isab.

Who is it, naughty boy? Behold that man, whose short and grizzly hair Mir. It is the handsome Marquis of Carlatzi. In clustering locks his dark brown face o'ershades ;

Vict. No, no, Mirando, thou art naughty still: Where now the scars of former sabre wounds, Twice have I paid thee for that tale already. In honourable companionship are seen Mir. Well then, indeed—I know who loves With the deep lines of age ; whose piercing eye Victoria.

Beneath its shading eyebrow keenly darts Vict. And who is he?

Its yet unquenched beams, as though in age Mir.

It is Mirando's self. Its youthful fire had been again renew'd, Vict, Thou little imp! this story is not new, To be the guardian of its darken'd mate : But thou shalt have thy hire. Come, let us go. See with what vigorous steps his upright form Go, run before us, boy.

[look'd, He onward bears ; nay, e'en that vacant sleeve Mir. Nay, but I'll show you how Count Wolvar Which droops so sadly by his better side, When he conducted Isabel from court.

Suits not ungracefully the veteran's mien. Vict. How did he look?

This is the man, whose glorious acts in battle Mir. Give me your hand: he held his body thus ; We heard to-day related o'er our wine. (putting himself in a ridiculous bowing posture.) I go to tell the general he is come : And then he whisper'd softly; then look'd so; Enjoy the generous feelings of thy breast,

(ogling with his eyes affectedly.) | And make an old man happy.

(Exrr.

thee too ;

are.

see,

Enter GeoFPRY.

Enter ROSINBERG. Fred. Brave soldier, let me profit by the chance Ros. (clapping Geof. on the shoulder.) How goes That led me here; I've heard of thy exploits.

it with thee now, my good field-marshal ? Geof. Ah! then you have but heard an ancient tale, Geof. The better that I see your honour well, Which has been long forgotten.

And in the humour to be merry with me. Fred. But true it is, and should not be forgotten; Ros. 'Faith, by my sword, I've rightly named Thcugh generals jealous of their soldiers' fame, May dash it with neglect.

What is a good field-marshal but a man, Geof. There are, perhaps, who may be so unge- Whose generous courage and undaunted mind nerous.

Doth marshal others on in glory's way?
Fred. Perhaps, say'st thou ? in very truth there Thou art not one by princely favour dubb’d,

But one of nature's making.
How art thou else rewarded with neglect,

Geof. You show, my lord, such pleasant courtesy, Whilst many a paltry fellow in thy corps

I know not howHas been promoted ? it is ever thus.

Ros.

But the general comes. Served not Mardini in your company?

Enter BASIL. He was, though honour'd with a valiant name, To those who knew him well, a paltry soldier. Ros. (pointing to Geof.) Behold the worthy Geof. Your pardon, sir: we did esteem him much,

veteran. Although inferior to his gallant friend,

Bas. (taking him by the hand.) Brave, honourable The brave Sebastian.

man, your worth I know, Fred.

The brave Sebastian! And greet it with a brother soldier's love. He was, as I am told, a learned coxcomb,

Geof. (taking away his hand in confusion.) My And loved a goose-quill better than a sword.

general, this is too much, too much honour, What, dost thou call him brave?

Bas. (taking his hand again.) No, valiant Thou, who dost bear about that war-worn trunk,

soldier, I must have it so. Like an old target, hack'd and rough with wounds, Geof. My humble state agrees not with such Whilst, after all his mighty battles, he

honour. Was with a smooth skin in his coffin laid,

Bas. Think not of it, thy state is not thyself. Cnblemish'd with a scar ?

Let mean souls, highly rank'a, look down on thee, Geof. His duty call'd not to such desperate service; As the poor dwarf, perch'd on a pedestal, For I have sought where few alive remaind, O’erlooks the giant: 'tis not worth a thought. And none unscath'd; where but a few remain'd, Art thou not Geoffry of the tenth brigade, Thus marr'd and mangled ; (showing his wounds.) Whose warlike feats, child, maid, and matron know?

as belike you've seen,

And oft, cross-elbow'd, o'er his nightly bowl, O'summer nights, around the evening lamp, The jolly toper to his comrade tells ? Some wretched moths, wingless, and half consumed, Whose glorious feats of war, by cottage door, Jost feebly crawling o'er their heaps of dead. The ancient soldier, tracing in the sand In Savoy, on a small, though desperate post, The many movements of the varied field, Of fall three hundred goodly chosen men,

In warlike terms to listening swains relates ; But twelve were left, and right dear friends were we Whose bosoms glowing at the wondrous tale For ever after. They are all dead now:

First learn to scorn the hind's inglorious life; I'm old and lonely.-We were valiant hearts Shame seize me, if I would not rather be Frederick Dewalter would have stopp'd a breach The man thou art, than court-created chief, Against the devil himself. I'm lonely now! Known only by the dates of his promotion !

Fred. I'm sorry for thee. Hang ungrateful chiefs ! Geof. Ah! would I were, would I were young Why wert thou not promoted ?

again, Geof. After that battle, where my happy fate To fight beneath your standard, noble general ;, Had led me to fulfil a glorious part,

Methinks what I have done were but a jest, Chafed with the gibing insults of a slave,

Ay, but a jest to what I now should do, The worthless favourite of a great man's favourite, Were I again the man that I have been. I rashly did affront; our cautious prince,

0! I could fight ! With narrow policy dependent made,

Bas.

And would'st thou fight for me? Dared not, as I am told, promote me then,

Geof. Ay, to the death ! And now he is ashamed, or has forgot it.

Bas. Then come, brave man, and be my chamFred. Fy, fy upon it! let him be ashamed:

pion still : Here is a trifle for thee-offering him money.) The sight of thee will fire my soldiers' breasts ; Geof. No, good sir;

Come, noble veteran, thou shalt fight for me. I have enough to live as poor men do.

[Exit with Geoffry. When I'm in want I'll thankfully receive,

Fred. What does he mean to do? Because I'm poor, but not because I'm brave. Ros.

We'll know ere long. Fred. You're proud, old soldier.

Fred. Our general bears it with a careless face, Geof.

No, I am not proud; For one so wise. For if I were, methinks I'd be morose,

Ros.

A careless face? on what? And willing to depreciate other men.

Fred. Not laigu not ignorance, we know it all.

News which have spread in whispers from the Which to his eyes such flashing lustre gave, court,

As though his soul, like an unsheathed sword, Since last night's messenger arrived from Milan. Had through them gleam'd, our noble genel Ros. As I'm an honest man, I know it not!

stood, Fred. 'Tis said the rival armies are so near And to his soldiers, with heart-moving words A battle must immediately ensue.

The veteran showing, his brave deeds rehearsed, Ros. It cannot be. Our general knows it not. Who by his side stood like a storm-scath'd oak, The Duke is of our side a sworn ally,

Beneath the shelter of some noble tree,
And had such messenger to Mantua come,

In the green honours of its youthful prime.
He would have been apprized upon the instant. Ros. How look'd the veteran ?
It cannot be, it is some idle tale.

Valt.

I cannot tell thee! Fred. So may it prove till we have joind them At first he bore it up with cheerful looks, too

As one who fain would wear his honours bravely Then Heaven grant they may be nearer still ! And greet the soldiers with a comrade's face : For O! my soul for war and danger pants,

But when Count Basil, in such moving speech, As doth the noble lion for his prey.

Told o'er his actions past, and bade his troops My soul delights in battle.

Great deeds to emulate, his countenance changed; Ros. Upon my simple word, I'd rather see High heaved his manly breast, as it had been A score of friendly fellows shaking hands,

By inward strong emotion half convulsed; Than all the world in arms. Hast thou no fear? Trembled his nether lip; he shed some tears : Fred. What dost thou mean?

The general paused, the soldiers shouted loud; Ros.

Hast thou no fear of death? Then hastily he brush'd the drops away, Fred. Fear is a name for something in the mind, And waved his hand, and clear'd his tear choked But what, from inward sense, I cannot tell.

voice, I could as little anxious march to battle,

As though he would some grateful answer make; As when a boy to childish games I ran.

When back with double force the whelming tide Ros. Then as much virtue hast thou in thy val- of passion came ; high o'er his hoary head our,

His arm he toss'd, and heedless of respect,
As when a child thou hadst in childish play. In Basil's bosom hid his aged face,
The brave man is not he who feels no fear, Sobbing aloud. From the admiring ranks
For that were stupid and irrational;

A cry arose ; still louder shouts resound.
But he, whose noble soul its fear subdues,

I felt a sudden tightness grasp my throat And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from. As it would stringle me; such as I felt, As for your youth, whom blood and blows delight, I knew it well, some twenty years ago, Away with them! there is not in the crew When my good father shed his blessing on me : One valiant spirit.-Ha! what sound is this? I hate to weep, and so I came away.

(Shouting is heard wilhout.) Ros. (giving Valt. his hand.) And there, take Fred. The soldiers shout; I'll run and learn the

thou my blessing for the tale.

Hark, how they shout again ! 'tis nearer now. Ros. But tell me first, how didst thou like the This way they march. veteran?

Martial music heard. Enter Soldiers marching in order, Fred. He is too proud ; he was displeased with bearing Geoffry in triumph on their shoulders me,

After them enter Basnl.; the whole preceded by a band Because I offer'd him a little sumn.

of music. They cross over the stage, are joined by

Ros. &c. and EXEUNT. Ros. What, money! 0, most generous,

noble
spirit :

SCENE II.
Noble rewarder of superior worth !
A halfpenny for Belisarius !

Enter Gavriecio and a GENTLEMAN, talking as they But hark! they shout again here comes Valtomer. (Shouling heard without.) Gaur. So slight a tie as this we cannot trust:

One day her influence may detain him here,
Enter VALTOMER.

But love a feeble agent may be found
What does this shouting mean?

With the ambitious. Valt. O! I have seen a sight, a glorious sight! Gent. And so you think this boyish odd conceit Thou wouldst have smiled to see it.

Of bearing home in triumph with his troops Ros. How smile? methinks thine eyes are wet That aged soldier, will your purpose serve? with tears.

Gaur. Yes, I will make it serve; for though my Valt. (passing the back of his hands across his

prince eyes.)

Is little scrupulous of right and wrong, 'Faith, so they are ; well, well, but I smiled too. I have possess'd his mind, as though it were You heard the shouting.

A flagrant insult on bis princely state,
Ros. and Fred.
Yes.

To honour thus the man he has neglected,
Valt.

O had you seen it! Which makes him relish, with a keener taste, Drawn out in goodly ranks, there stood our troops ; My purposed scheme. Come, let us fall to work. Here, in the graceful state of manly youth, With all their warm heroic feelings roused, His dark face brightend with a generous smile, We'll spirit up his troops to mutiny,

cause.

enter.

;

MASKS.

Which must retard, perhaps undo him quite. Enter RoSINBERG, fantastically dressed, with a willow Thanks to his childish love, which has so well upon his head, and scraps of sonnels, and torn letters Procured us time to tamper with the fools.

Auttering round his neck; pursued by a group of Masks Gent. Ah! but those feelings he has waked

from one of the inner apartmenis, who hoot at him, and within them,

push him about as he enters. Are generous feelings, and endear himself.

1st Mask. Away, thou art a saucy, jeering knave, Gaur. It matters not; though generous in their And fain wouldst make a jest of all true love. nature,

Ros. Nay, gentle ladies, do not buffet me:
They yet may serve a most ungenerous end; I am a right true servant of the fair ;
And be who teaches men to think, though nobly, And as this woful chaplet on my brow,
Doth raise within their minds a busy judge And these tear-blotted sonnets would denote,
To scan his actions. Send thine agents forth, A poor abandon'd lover, out of place ;
And sound it in their ears how much Count Basil With any lover ready to engage,
Affects all difficult and desperate service,

Who will enlist me in her loving service.
To raise his fortunes by some daring stroke; Of a convenient kind my talents are,
Having unto the emperor pledged his word, And to all various humours may be shaped.
To make his troops all dreadful hazards brave : 2d Mask. What canst thou do?
For which intent he fills their simple minds

3d Mask.

Ay, what besides offending? With idle tales of glory and renown;

Ros. O! I can sigh so deeply, look so sad, Using their warm attachment to himself

Pule out a piteous tale on bended knee ;
For most unworthy ends.

Groan like a ghost; so very wretched be,
This is the busy time: go forth, my friend; As would delight a tender lady's heart
Mix with the soldiers, now in jolly groups

But to behold.
Around their evening cups. There, spare no Ist Mask. Poo, poo, insipid fool!
cost, (gives him a purse.)

Ros. But should my lady brisker mettle own,
Observe their words, see how the poison takes And tire of all those gentle, dear delights,
And then return again.

Such pretty little quarrels I'd in vous
Gent.
I will, my lord.

As whether such a fair one (some dear friend)
(Exeunt severally. Whose squirrel's tail was pinch’d, or the soft maid,

With favourite lap-dog of a surfeit sick,
SCENE III.-A SUITE OF GRAND APARTMENTS, WITH Have greatest cause of delicate distress

THEIR WIDE DOORS THROWN OPEN, LIGHTED UP Or whether
WITH LAMPS, AND FILLED WITH COMPANY IN

1st Mask. Go, too bad thou art indeed!

(aside.) How could he know I quarrell’d with the Enter several Masks, and pass through the first apartment

count? to the other rooms. Then enter Basil in the disguise 2d Mask. Wilt thou do nothing for thy lady's fame? of a wounded soldier.

Ros. Yes, lovely shepherdess, on every tree Bas. (alone.) Now am I in the region of delight! I'll carve her name, with true love garlands bound: Within the blessed compass of these walls

Write madrigals upon her roseate cheeks; She is; the gay light of those blazing lamps Odes to her eye; 'faith, every wart and mole Doth shine upon her, and this painted floor That spots her snowy skin shall have its sonnet! Is with her footsteps press’d. E'en now, perhaps, I'll make love posies for her thimble's edge, Amidst that motley rout she plays her part: Rather than please her not. There will I go ; she cannot be conceal'd ;

3d Mask. But for her sake what dangers wilt Por but the flowing of her graceful robe

thou brave? Will soon betray the lovely form that wears it, Ros. In truth, fair nun, I stomach dangers less Though in a thousand masks. Ye homely weeds,- Than other service, and were something loath

(looking at his habit.) To storm a convent's walls for one dear glance;
Which hall conceal, and half declare my state, But if she'll wisely manage this alone,
Beneath your kind disguise, ( ! let me prosper, As maids have done, come o'er the wall herself,
And bcdly take the privilege ye give :

And meet me fairly on the open plain,
Follow her mazy steps, crowd by her side ; I will engage her tender steps to aid
Thus near her face my listening ear incline, In all annoyance of rude brier or stone,
And feel her soft breath fan my glowing cheek, Or crossing rill, some half foot wide or so,
Her fair hand seize, yea, press it closely too! Which that fair lady should unaided pass,
May it not be e'en so? by beaven it shall ! Ye gracious powers forbid! I will defend
This

once, 0! serve me well, and ever after, Against each hideous fly, whose dreadful buzzYe shall be treasured like a monarch's robes ; 4th Mask. Such paltry service suits thec best, Ludged in my chamber, near my pillow kept ;

indeed. And oft with midnight lamp I'll visit ye,

What maid of spirit would not spurn thee from her? Ard, gazing wistfully, this night recall,

Ros. Yes, to recall me soon, sublime sultana ! With all its past delights.—But yonder moves For I can stand the burst of female passion, A slender form, dress'd in an azure robe ;

Each change of humour and affected storm ; It moves not like the rest-it must be she ! Be scolded, frown'd upon, to exile sent, (Goes hastily into another apartment, and mires Recall’d, caress’d, chid, and disgraced again ; with the Masks.)

And say what maid of spirit would forego

Goblins howl there, and ghosts rise through the

Enter BASIL. ground. I hear them many a time when I'm a bed,

Bas. The blue air of the morning pinches keenly. And hide beneath the clothes my cowering head. Beneath her window all the chilly night, 0! is it not a frightful thing, my lord,

I felt it not. Ah! night has been my day ; To sleep alone i’ the dark ?

And the pale lamp which from her chamber Bas. Poor harmless child! thy prate is wondrous

gleam'd
sweet.

Has to the breeze a warmer temper lent
Enter a group of Masks.

Than the red burning east. 1st Mask. What dost thou here, thou little truant

Re-enter ROSINBERG, &c. from the house. boy? Come, play thy part with us.

Ros. Himself! himself! He's here ! he's here!

O Basil! Masks place MIRANDO in the middle, and range them. What friend at such a time could lead thee forth? selves round him.

Bas. What is the matter which disturbs you SONG.-A GLEE.

thus? Child, with many a childish wile,

Ros. Matter that would a wiser man disturb. Timid look, and blushing smile,

Treason's abroad : thy men have mutinied.
Downy wings to steal thy way,
Gilded bow, and quiver gay,

Bas. It is not so ; thy wits have mutinied, Who in thy simple mien would trace

And left their sober station in thy brain. The lyrant of the human race?

1st Off. Indeed, my lord, he speaks in sober

earnest. Who is he whose flinty heart Hath not felt the flying dart?

Some secret enemies have been employed Who is he that from the wound

To fill your troops with strange imaginations. Hath not pain and pleasure found ?

As though their general would, for selfish gain, Who is he that hath not shed

Their generous valour urge to desperate deeds. Curse and blessings on thy head?

All to a man assembled on the ramparts,
Ah love! our weal, our wo, our bliss, our bane,
A restless life have they who wear thy chain!

Now threaten vengeance, and refuse to march. Ah love! our weal, our wo, our bliss, our bane,

Bas. What! think they vilely of me? threaten More hapless still are they who never felt thy pain !

too ! (All the Masks dance round Cupid. Then enter 0! most ungenerous, most unmanly thought !

a band of Satyrs, who frighten away Love and Didst thou attempt (to Ros.) to reason with theu his volaries; and conclude the scene, dancing

folly? in a grotesque manner.)

Folly it is; baseness it cannot be.

Ros. Yes, truly, I did reason with a storm,

And bid it cease to rage.
ACT IV.

Their eyes look fire on him who questions them

The hollow murmurs of their mutter'd wrath SCENE 1.-THE STREET BEFORE BASIL'S LODGINGS.

Sound dreadful through the dark extended ranks, Enter RogINBERG and two Officers

Like subterraneous gruinblings of an earthquake. Ros. (speaking as he enters.) Unless we find him Does not with such fantastic writhings toss

- The vengeful hurricane quickly, all is lost. 1st Off. His very guards, methinks, have left The wood's green boughs, as does convulsive rage their post

Their forms with frantic gestures agitate. To join the mutiny.

Around the chief of hell such legions throng'd Ros. (knocking very loud.) Holla! who's there

To bring back curse and discord on creation. within ? confound this door!

Bas. Nay, they are men, although impassion

ones.
It will not yield. O for a giant's strength!
Holla, holla, within! will no one hear?

I'll go to them,
Ros.

And we will stand by thee.
Enter a Porter from the house.

My sword is thine against ten thousand strong, Rus. (eagerly to the porter.) Is he return'd? is if it should come to this. he return'd not yet?

Bas.

No, never, never! Thy face doth tell me so.

There is no mean : I with my soldiers must Port.

Not yet, my lord. Or their commander or their victim prove. Ros. Then let him ne'er return !

But are my officers all stanch and faithful? Tumult, disgrace, and ruin have their way!

Ros. All but that devil, Frederick 'll search for him no more.

He, disappointed, left his former corps, Port. He hath been absent all the night, my lord. Where he, in truth, had been too long neglected, Ros. I know he hath.

Thinking he should all on the sudden rise, 2d Off

And yet 'tis possible From Basil's well-known love of valiant men; e may have entered by the secret door ;

And now, because it still must be deferr'd, And now perhaps, in deepest sleep entranced, He thinks you seek from envy to depress him, Is dead to every sound.

And burns to be revenged. (Ros, without speaking, rushes into the house, and Bas. Well, well This grieves me too the rest follow him.)

But let us go.

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