In honour of your townsman's generous gift
He spreads the board.

De Mon. He is too old to revel with the gay.
Freb. But not too old is he to honour virtue.
I shall partake of it with open soul;
For, on my honest faith, of living men

I know not one, for talents, honour, worth,

That I should rank superior to Rezervelt.

De Mon. How virtuous he hath been in three short days!

And every wish of yours commands my will.
(To Countess.) Lady, good morning. (To Freb.)
Well, my gentle friend,

You see I have not linger'd long behind.

Freb. No, thou art sooner than I look'd for thee.

Rez. A willing heart adds feather to the heel,

And makes the clown a winged Mercury.

De Mon. Then let me say, that with a grateful mind,

I do receive these tokens of good will;

Freb. Nay, longer, marquis; but my friendship And must regret, that, in my wayward moods,
I have too oft forgot the due regard
Your rank and talents claim.

rests

Upon the good report of other men,
And that has told me much.

(De Monfort aside, going some steps hastily from
Freberg, and rending his cloak with agitation
as he goes.)

Would he were come! by heaven I would he were!

Listening again, as if he heard something.)
Jane. (to De Mon.) What, hear you aught?
De Mon. (hastily.)
"Tis nothing.
Lady. (to De Mon.) Nay, do not let me lose it
so, my lord.

Some fair one has bewitch'd your memory,
And robs me of the half-form'd compliment.

Jane. Half-utter'd praise is to the curious mind
As to the eye half-veiled beauty is,

More precious than the whole. Pray pardon him.
Some one approaches.

(Listening.)

Freb. No, no, it is a servant who ascends; He will not come so soon.

Rez.

No, no, De Monfort,
You have but rightly curb'd a wanton spirit,
Which makes me too neglectful of respect.
Let us be friends, and think of this no more.

Freb. Ay, let it rest with the departed shades
Of things which are no more; whilst lovely con-
cord,

Follow'd by friendship sweet, and firm esteem,
Your future days enrich. O heavenly friendship!
Thou dost exalt the sluggish souls of men,
By thee conjoin'd, to great and glorious deeds;
As two dark clouds, when mix'd in middle air,
The vivid lightning's flash, and roar sublime.
Talk not of what is past, but future love.
De Mon. (with dignity.) No, Freberg, no, it
must not. (To Rezen velt.) No, my lord,

I will not offer you a hand of concord,

| And poorly hide the motives which constrain me.
I would that, not alone, these present friends,
But every soul in Amberg were assembled,
That I, before them all, might here declare
I owe my spared life to your forbearance.
(Holding out his hand.) Take this from one who
boasts no feeling warmth,

But never will deceive.

(Jane smiles upon De Monfort with great approbation, and Rezen velt runs up to him with open arms.)

Rez. Away with hands! I'll have thee to my breast.

Thou art, upon my faith, a noble spirit!

De Mon. (shrinking back from him.) Nay, if you please, I am not so preparedMy nature is of temperature too cold

De Mon. (off his guard.) 'Tis Rezen velt: II pray you pardon me. (Jane's countenance

heard his well-known foot,

From the first staircase, mounting step by step. Freb. How quick an ear thou hast for distant sound!

I heard him not.

changes.)

But take this hand, the token of respect;
The token of a will inclined to concord;
The token of a mind, that bears within
A sense impressive of the debt it owes you:

(De Monfort looks embarrassed, and is silent.) And cursed be its power, unnerved its strength,

Enter REZENVELT

(De Monfort, recovering himself, goes up to receive Rezenvelt, who meets him with a cheerful countenance.)

If e'er again it shall be lifted up

To do you any harm.

Rez. Well, be it so, De Monfort, I'm
tented;

I'll take thy hand, since I can have no more.

con

De Mon. (to Rez.) I am, my lord, beholden to (Carelessly.) I take of worthy men whate'er they

you greatly.

This ready visit makes me much your debtor.

Rez. Then may such debts between us, noble marquis,

Be oft incurred, and often paid again!

(To Jane.) Madam, I am devoted to your service,

give.

Their heart I gladly take, if not, their hand!
If that too is withheld, a courteous word,
Or the civility of placid looks:

And, if e'en these are too great favours deem'd,
'Faith, I can set me down contentedly

With plain and homely greeting, or "God save ye!"

De Mon. (aside, starting away from him some

paces.)

By the good light, he makes a jest of it!

Rez. 'Faith! so he did, and so did I receive it; When, with spread arms, and heart e'en moved to tears,

I frankly proffer'd him a friend's embrace:
And, I declare, had he as such received it,

(Jane seems greatly distressed, and Freberg I from that very moment had forborne
endeavours to cheer her.)
All opposition, pride-provoking jest,

Freb. (to Jane.) Cheer up, my noble friend; all Contemning carelessness, and all offence;
will go well;

For friendship is no plant of hasty growth.
Though rooted in esteem's deep soil, the slow
And gradual culture of kind intercourse

Must bring it to perfection.

And had caress'd him as a worthy heart,
From native weakness such indulgence claiming.
But since he proudly thinks that cold respect,
The formal tokens of his lordly favour,
So precious are, that I would sue for them

(To the Countess.) My love, the morning, now, is As fair distinction in the public eye,

far advanced;

Our friends elsewhere expect us; take your leave.

Lady. (to Jane.) Farewell, dear madam, till the evening hour.

Forgetting former wrongs, I spurn it all.
And but that I do bear that noble woman,
His worthy, his incomparable sister,

Such fix'd profound regard, I would expose him;

Freb. (to De Mon.) Good day, De Monfort. (To And as a mighty bull, in senseless rage,

Jane.) Most devoutly yours.

Rez. (to Freb.) Go not too fast, for I will follow
you. [EXEUNT Freberg and his Lady.
To Jane.) The Lady Jane is yet a stranger here:
She might, perhaps, in this your ancient city
Find somewhat worth her notice.

Jane. I thank you, marquis, I am much engaged;
I go not out to-day.

Rez. Then fare ye well! I see I cannot now
Be the proud man who shall escort you forth,
And show to all the world my proudest boast,
The notice and respect of Jane De Monfort.
De Mon. (aside impatiently.) He says farewell,
and goes not!

Jane. (to Rez.) You do me honour.

Rez. Madam, adieu! (To Jane.) Good morning,
noble marquis.
[EXIT.
(Jane and De Monfort look expressively to one
another without speaking, and then EXEUNT
severally.)

ACT IV.

SCENE L-A HALL OR ANTE-CHAMBER, WITH THE
FOLDING DOORS OF AN INNER APARTMENT OPEN,
WHICH DISCOVERS THE GUESTS RISING FROM A
BANQUET.

Roused at the baiter's will, with wretched rags
Of ire-provoking scarlet, chafes and bellows,
I'd make him at small cost of paltry wit,
With all his deep and manly faculties,
The scorn and laugh of fools.

Freb. For heaven's sake, my friend, restrain
your wrath!

For what has Monfort done of wrong to you,
Or you to him, bating one foolish quarrel,
Which you confess from slight occasion rose,
That in your breasts such dark resentment dwells,
So fix'd, so hopeless?

Rez. O from our youth he has distinguished me
With every mark of hatred and disgust.
For e'en in boyish sports I still opposed
His proud pretensions to pre-eminence ;
Nor would I to his ripen❜d greatness give
That fulsome adulation of applause

A senseless crowd bestow'd. Though poor in for-
tune,

I still would smile at vain assuming wealth:
But when unlook'd-for fate on me bestow'd
Riches and splendour equal to his own,
Though I, in truth, despise such poor distinction,
Feeling inclined to be at peace with him,
And with all men besides, I curb'd my spirit,
And sought to soothe him. Then, with spiteful
rage,

They enter and pass over the stage and EXEUNT; and From small offence he rear'd a quarrel with me,

after them enter REZENVELT and FREBERG.

Freb. Alas, my Rezenvelt!

I vainly hoped the hand of gentle peace,
From this day's reconciliation sprung,
These rude unseemly jarrings had subdued ;
But I have mark'd, e'en at the social board,
Buch looks, such words, such tones, such untold

things,

Too plainly told, 'twixt you and Monfort pass,
That I must now despair.

Yet who could think, two minds so much refined,
So near in excellence, should be removed,

So far removed, in generous sympathy?

Rez. Ay, far removed indeed!

Freb. And yet, methought, he made a noble

effort,

And with a manly plainness bravely told
The galling debt he owes to your forbearance.

And dared me to the field. The rest you know
In short, I still have been th' opposing rock,
O'er which the stream of his o'erflowing pride
Hath foam'd and fretted. See'st thou how it is?
Freb. Too well I see, and warn thee to beware.
Such streams have oft, by swelling floods sur-
charged,

Borne down, with sudden and impetuous force,
The yet unshaken stone of opposition,
Which had for ages stopp'd their flowing course.
I pray thee, friend, beware.

Rez. Thou canst not mean-he will not murder
me?

Freb. What a proud heart, with such dark pas

sion toss'd,

May, in the anguish of its thoughts, conceive,
I will not dare to say.

Rez. Ha, ha! thou know'st him not.

Con. Forgive, I pray, my lord, a stranger's bold- Your honour's life is all too precious, sure—

You shall not be disturb'd.

(Slooping to lift the handkerchief.)
You have dropp'd somewhat.

De Mon. (preventing him.) Nay, do not stoop,
my friend! I pray thee not!

Thou art too old to stoop.

I'm much indebted to thee.--Take this ring-
I love thee better than I seem to do.

I pray thee do it-thank me not-What stranger?
Jer. A man who does most earnestly entreat
To see your honour; but I know him not.
De Mcn. Then let him enter.

[Exir Jerome.

A pause. Enter CONRAD.

A tale so damn'd?-It chokes my breath-
(Stamping with his foot.) What wretch did tell it

thee?

Con. Nay, every one with whom I have con-
versed

Has held the same discourse. I judge it not.
But you, my lord, who with the lady dwell,
You best can tell what her deportment speaks;
Whether her conduct and unguarded words
Belie such rumour.

(De Monfort pauses, staggers backward, and
sinks into a chair; then starting up hastily.)
De Mon. Where am I now? midst all the
cursed thoughts,

De Mon. You are the stranger who would speak That on my soul like stinging scorpions prey'd,

The tiresome preface of apology

I will forbear, and tell my tale at once.-
In pldling drudgery I've spent my youth,
A careful penman in another's office;
And now, my master and employer dead,
They seek to set a stripling o'er my head,
And leave me on to drudge, e'en to old age,
Because I have no friend to take my part.
It is an office in your native town,
For I am come from thence, and I am told
You can procure it for me. Thus, my lord,
From the repute of goodness which you bear,
I have presumed to beg.

De Mon. They have befool'd thee with a false

report.

Con. Alas! I see it is in vain to plead.

Your mind is prepossess'd against a wretch,
Who has, unfortunately for his weal,
Offended the revengeful Rezenvelt.
De Mon. What dost thou say?

Con. What I, perhaps, had better leave unsaid.
Who will believe my wrongs if I complain?
I am a stranger, Rezenve't my foe.
Who will believe my wrongs?

De Mon. (eagerly catching him by the coat.)
I will believe them!

Though they were base as basest, vilest deeds,
In ancient record told, I would believe them!
Let not the smallest atom of unworthiness
That he has put upon thee be conceal'd.
Speak boldly, tell it all; for, by the light!
I'll be thy friend, I'll be thy warmest friend,
If he has done thee wrong.

Con.

Con. Nay, pardon me, it were not well advised,
If I should speak so freely of the man
Who would so soon your nearest kinsman be.
De Mon. What canst thou mean by this?
That Marquis Rezen velt
Has pledged his faith unto your noble sister,
And soon will be the husband of her choice.
So I am told, and so the world believes.
De Mon. 'Tis false ! 'tis basely false !

What wretch could drop from his envenom'd tongue

This never came before--O, if it be!
The thought will drive me mad.-Was it for this
She urged her warm request on bended knee?
Alas! I wept, and thought of sister's love,
No damned love like this.

Fell devil! 'tis hell itself has lent thee aid

To work such sorcery! (Pauses.) I'll not believe it,
I must have proof clear as the noonday sun
For such foul charge as this! Who waits without?
(Paces up and down, furiously agitated.)
Con. (aside.) What have I done? I've carried

Jer. You do, in truth, and your teeth chatter too. De Mon. See see they come! he strutting by her side.

(Jane, Rezenvelt, and Countess Freberg appear
through the glass door, pursuing their way up
a short walk leading to the other wing of the
house.)

See, his audacious face he turns to hers;
Uttering with confidence some nauseous jest.
And she endures it too-O this looks vilely!
Ha! mark that courteous motion of his arm-
What does he mean ?--he dares not take her hand!
(Pauses and looks eagerly.) By heaven and hell
he does!

- (Letting go his hold of Jerome, he throws out his
hands vehemently, and thereby pushes him
against the scene.)

Jer. O! I am stunn'd! my head is crack'd in twain:

Your honour does forget how old I am.

And my soul shudder'd at the horrid brink,
I would not flinch.-Fy, this recalling nature!
O that his sever'd limbs were strew'd in air,
So as I saw it not!

Enter REZENVELT behind from the glass door. DE MON-
FORT turns round, and on seeing him starts back, then
drawing his sword, rushes furiously upon him.
Detested robber! now all forms are over;
Now open villany, now open hate!
Defend thy life!

Rez. De Monfort, thou art mad.

De Mon. Speak not, but draw. Now for thy hated life!

(They fight: Rezenvelt parries his thrusts with great skill, and at last disarms him.)

Then take my life, black fiend, for hell assists thee.

Rez. No, Monfort, but I'll take away your sword,

De Mon. Well, well, the wall is harder than I Not as a mark of disrespect to you,

wist.

Begone, and whine within.

[EXIT Jerome, with a sad, rueful countenance. De Monfort comes forward to the front of the stage, and makes a long pause, expressive of great agony of mind.)

It must be so: each passing circumstance;
Her hasty journey here; her keen distress
Whene'er my soul's abhorrence I express'd;
Ay, and that damned reconciliation,

With tears extorted from me; O, too well!
All, all too well bespeak the shameful tale.

I should have thought of heaven and hell conjoin'd,
The morning star mix'd with infernal fire,
Ere I had thought of this-

Hell's blackest magic, in the midnight hour,
With horrid spells and incantation dire,
Such combination opposite, unseemly,
Of fair and loathsome, excellent and base,
Did ne'er produce-But every thing is possible,
So as it may my misery enhance!

O! I did love her with such pride of soul!
When other men, in gay pursuit of love,
Each beauty follow'd, by her side I stay'd
Far prouder of a brother's station there,
Than all the favours favour'd lovers boast.
We quarrell'd once, and when I could no more
The alter'd coldness of her eye endure,

I slipp'd o' tip-toe to her chamber door;

Ser.
He was in haste to go; as night comes on,
And at the evening hour he purposes

To visit some old friend, whose lonely mansion
Stands a short mile beyond the farther wood,
In which a convent is of holy nuns
Who chant this night a requiem to the soul
Of a departed sister. For so well
He loves such solemn music, he has order'd
His horses onward by the usual road,
Meaning on foot to cross the wood alone.

And when she ask'd who gently knock'd-0! O! So says his knave. Good may it do him, sooth!
Who could have thought of this?

I would not walk through those wild dells alone
For all his wealth. For there, as I have heard,
Foul murders have been done, and ravens scream,
And things unearthly, stalking through the night,
Have scared the lonely traveller from his wits.
(De Monfort stands fixed in thought.)

(Throws himself into a chair, covers his face with his hand, and bursts into tears. After some time he starts up from his seat furiously.) Hell's direst torment seize the infernal villain ! Detested of my soul! I will have vengeance! I'll crush thy swelling pride-I'll still thy vaunt-I've ta'en your mare, an' please you, from her field,

ing

I'll do a deed of blood !-Why shrink I thus ?
If, by some spell or magic sympathy,
Piercing the lifeless figure on that wall
Could pierce his bosom too, would I not cast it?

(Throwing a dagger against the wall.) Shall groans and blood affright me? No, I'll do it. ough gasping life beneath my pressure heaved,

And wait your farther orders.

(De Monfort heeds him not.) Her hoofs are sound, and where the saddle gall'd, Begins to mend. What further must be done? (De Monfort still weeds him not.) His honour heeds me not. Why should I stay? De Mon. (eagerly, as he is going.) He goes alone, saidst thou?