King. Not injured me! Lot. 'Tis not.-Thou hoary head! I Lot. No. Thine ear has been abused. ell thee to thy face this grovelling tale is and I've been wronged by some basell a falsehood. And, since thou'rt base slanderer. This tale that thou hast head enough to forge a lie like this,-come, be is false is false and he's as vile a brave enough to draw thy sword! wretch as ever crawled on earth that fa. they draw, but are prevented from using their weathered it. Where is he? who is he! 1 longens by the interference of the king.) to face the villain, and tell him to his teeth he lies! King. He comes Lot. Where? what-old Montalt-is he the man? King. Yes, now tell him that he lies -now prove that he's a slanderer. King. Peace, both,—and sheathe your swords again. Lot. My liege, believe me-believe guilt with me the Queen is innocent. But ne--for here I solemnly assert that as to his old man, presuming on his age has forged the adulterous tale to ruin the lit(the King walks back to the other end of the apartle interest I possess at court, and creep a ment, returning to and fro, so as not to be out of story higher in influence with thee himhearing, as Montalt enters he is met by Lothaire self-in short to bring about another's who addresses him in a tone of mingled blandness disgrace and rear his fortunes on the and deceit.) Lot. Montalt, good morrow. I have I have wreck of mine! Mon. Liar! King No. I spoke the truth, nor was imposed upon by any one. What I in formed the King I saw and heard. ever considered thee a friend of mine, and still believe thou wouldst not willingly do King. Peace, I say,-peace;-and me a wrong. But here's the King accuses hark, Lothaire, what this old man has me with an adulterous crime-a crime here disclosed to me, word after word I which I denied without a moment's hesita- steadfastly believe in spite of all that thou tion and demanded the name of my accuser.hast deeply, sworn. Thou hast wronged IIe replied that he had heard it from me-deeply wronged me. to take the adthec. Surprised I would have been but the vantage of her youth as thou hast done;thought at once occurred to me that thou and that the like may not again occur, hadst been imposed upon by some scur- that what is folly may not turn to guilt, 1 rilous parasite or interested courtier. herewith banish thee from court and from Was it not so? the realms of France-forever! his tone of confidence for one fawning and entreaty.) (Lothaire appears much agitated, instantly changing I Lot. Nay-take my life, but do not banish me! I'd rather be condemned at shrink not from the truth at any time. once to death than exiled from my home nor do I fear to tell again what I rehears-and native land. My nature shudders at ed before the King. the thoughts of it! Thou found'st me but Lot. Well-come-what didst thou a wandering orphan boy, and kindly didst thou take me by the hand to favour and to court.— hear and see? Mon. I saw the Queen and thee to gether-I saw ye kiss-I heard ye talk of love Lot. Me! saw me!—and heard talk of love? Mon. Ay-thee! me King. I did, and reared thee up to ho nor and wealth. It is that that aggra vates thy guilt! I slept as in a dream,— the sting though has awakened me, for now I find that I have warmed a viper in Lot. No, never! It is not so, believe my breast! I cherished thee,-trusted thee me, more than the Queen's fair hand I ne--and used thee as my son in everything. ver kissed; nor ever presumed to breathe But see at last the sad mistake I made, a sentiment of love to her. for where I hoped to reap a recompense I find but tares and weeds, ingratitude and treachery! Mon. I saw and heard both! Lot. Liar! thou never didst! I kiss the Queen! I would as soon have dared usurp her husband's throne!-'Tis false my liege; and though he binds himself with oaths to it, believe him not. Mon. 'Tis, every word of it the truth Lot. But make me not an exile;-do ot banish me! King. Yes, 'tis irrrevocably fixed-Three days are thine within our capital, but afterwards if found in it thou shalt as suredly be put to death. Go-be a wan-value not-but no,-I can't endure the derer through all thy days to come-house- thoughts of lingering life, away in distant les-homeless desolate! Beg for a shel- lands divorced from thee! Can I forget ter from the midnight storm,-be misera--or thou-canst thou forget, how in each ble, be cursed, and think of thy ingrat- other's arms we've passed the time! The itude, think then of what thou hast for- words, caresses, transports, joys-and fei.ed! then to part without the hope of meet (exit hastily, followed by Montalting again-'tis sad, 'tis terrible, to think of it. Lot. What, doomed to banishment!) As one perched on a height, and dizzy from thce-but no we will not part. I'll Queen. 'T'were terrible indeed to part grown, I feel as if I tottered now! Must hasten before the King, try what I can, then my plots, deceptions, counterplots, and perhaps persuade him to revoke his and deep-laid schemes, but end in banish-doom. But if refused I'll share thy banment! Must the proud tiara I have sought ishment. If thou art compelled to wanand labored for, with such anxiety, be ne- der over the earth, to steal thy shelter ver mine? but banished and adrift, an from the howling storm, I'll share thy outcast, must I hereafter roam through wretched fate-and feel myself far hapforeign climes, away from her, from happier piness, fame, and all that's valuable in life. pier with thee amidst thy woes, than here piness, fame, and all that's valuable in life. alone residing in this splendid court, where only pomp and pageantry prevail. (exit to seek the Queen.) Yes,-through desolation, storms and fate SCENE 2. Another apartment in the palace or rather I'll suffer with thee; and though the bara private gallery' contrived with a sliding door in ren earth be our only bed to lay upon, nor the wainscot Lothai e enters, and after gently house nor home to shelter us from cold tapping against the partition, the pannel is slidden and rain, still thus I'll hang around thy back and the Queen comes through it. neck, still in thy arms my joy shall be, and I'll be happy 'midst de pair! Must I? shall I ? no Queen. How now, Lothaire? Lot. I've unexpected tidings to com- Lot. Thy kind, thy generous, love I municate. Montalt-that ugly, old and cannot but applaud; nor yet can help my withered wretch, who hangs around the doubts of thy success if thou dost interKing like a servile dog forever crouching cede for me. What, ask thy husband to at his master's heel, has discovered our revoke his sentence? I fear it would not intercourse and made it known to the soften his hard heart but only the more king. exasperate his wayward will, and on thee Queen. Indeed. thyself provoke his anger. 'Tis kind in Lot. We've been suspected, seen and thee to offer it, and though I now decline watched. The King this morning accused thy offer I feel as much obliged to thee as me with it, and sentenced me to banish- if I had received the benefit. ment. Queen. To banishment! Jot. Yes. His is a heart by nature hard and cold-it will not melt like thine at pity's tale, and words and tears would be of no avail if thou didst plead for me. Queen. Didst thou deny it ?-but why do I ask? of course thou didst. What dis- Queen. Nay-I feel assured that I'll covered! and thou banished too! prevail with him. I'll kneel, caress, caLot. Ay-banished! condemned to jole, and flatter him, till he no longer can part with thee,-forever exiled from my resist my prayers. I'll laugh and weep' alnative land;-my native land where Iternately use all the arts and all the wiles have lived and only wish to live, where my pleading sex employ, till he relents have passed the happiest hours of life with and sets thee free again. Yes-and not a thee and steeped existence in a dream of moment will I lose, but haste and prostrate love! The axe's glittering stroke that at a at his feet, implore till he complies with single blow divides the body from the my request or positively refuses it. head, or even the wheel that mangles our Lot. He will refuse thee, I am confijoints, or death in any form, I could have dent. But go-I would not uselessly debetter borne than banishment. My life I press thy hopes. I am as anxious as thy self that thou should prosper in it, and by my influential stars, that have as yet wish thee every possible success. been fortunate, I swear to seek the means Queen. If he refuses me let him beware however desperate and bloody, by which --'tis at his peril if he does! I'll be re-to shun the doom pronounced on me! venged, as sure as blood flows through Ay-for should all else fail this shall sucthese veins ! ceed! Lot. But how revenged? thou wilt not murder him? Queen. Murder him! no!--let cutthroats and those that lurk in alleys after night do that; I'll find a keener vengeance than the blow of death to inflict! Lot. A keener vengeance? Lot. Name it. Kir Why dost thou kneel? Qen Oh, be merciful my liege-he Queen. I'll leave these palace-walls kind for I have knelt to crave of thee a and follow thee as I have promised. Yes par for the man that thou hast doomed -abardon him, forsake his bed, and leave to anishment. Nay-start not. Thus him at the mercy of the world's contempt! hubly on my knees I entreat that thout Twill mortify his pride and gall his recall the scutence passed on him, that feelings to the quick like the poisoned ar- thou'lt restore him to the favour he has row to the wound, so will it rankle in his lost, and take him back to court and thy heart-festering-agonizing! good-will, King, What receive a traitor back? Lot. Hark I hear a footstep. Queen. Perhaps it is the King. I'll Queen. Ay thou wrong'st him. He go and meet him. With sunshine in my is not a traitor. He wears a loyal heart face I'll meet his frown, and kneeling hum-nor has he forgotten the time when but oly at his feet, smile coax and play the hy- an orphan-boy he was received by thee, pocrite-like serpents when they coil and reared beneath the favour of the court within a bed of flowers to entice the to affluense and fame. He has not yet harmless songster of the shady wood! If forgot how uch he owes his king for fa what I ask is granted me I'll rest tented, but if denied let hin beware! con (exit through the sliding panel) vours past. King. if so why wert thou seen within his arms. Queen. Me, within his arms! King. Ay, thee within his arms! why was he seen to kiss thee too, and heard to talk of love to thee? Lot. That she is mine I'm now assu red beyond a doubt. But there are times for all when our adultery stares us in the face, when from each other's arms we Queen. Who says he did? both recoil, and shudder at the crime King. Ido-I say he did, and know we're gonty of. She loves me ! and has he did? And dar'st thou talk to me again gone to plead for me before the King-of him; dar'st plead for him and ask me before the man that I have robbed of ho-to annul his banishment! no more-no nor;-she's gone to ask him to revoke his more or thou wilt anger me! not all that drom, and set her own seducer free. thou hast said, and yet canst say, can Strange infatuation! But how if he refu- alter my belief; for I believe he waits the ses nee? how then? Must I submit? chance to ruin thee, behind his smiles and must I abandon my ambitious hopes, and flatteries secured like a thief who watch give up every hope that ere I die I'll sit es his unsuspecting prey, or murderers upon the throne-the throne of France- that dog their victim's steps. I've ban and with the royal dust of kings my plished him and he shall go or die if he bian ashes mix? These hopes shaft remains! forego 1 and in obscurity, away from tunes smiles, must I hereafter plod through life, unheard-of and unknown? No, or Queen. Nay-nay--(interceedingly) him I know. Thy heart is naturally not with even brutal force he thrust me from. hard but kind; and mercy is the attribute his side! of kings. For mercy's sake then pardon King. Never! him! Lot. He did? Queen. Ay, did he-but by the Holy Church again I vow to keep the promise [She still continues her entreaties by clinging to his ishment. Yes I'll be with thee though sworn! I'll leave him and share thy banrobe, kneeling, weeping, &c, notwithstanding his evident determination to reject her suit. At last thou art an exile;-my only home shall be he violently pushes her from him, and exits. A where thou art;-in all thy wanderings will pause ensues, during which the feelings of the I participate,-through poverty,-through Queen appear to be acted upon by the alternate emotions of shame and anger.] disease, and till the hour of death. Lot. Generous woman! Thy heart is Queen. Then be it so!-yes-exiled overflowing with its love for me, and well I let him be! and I'll go with him through know the value of a woman's love like thine; the world, as sure as I am here and 'tis priceless! but the thoughts of banbreathe, as sure as Heaven's above or ishment I dread, and can't but curse my that the sun doth shine. Yes-but ere I bitter, bitter, fate! go, the king of France shall feel the retri Queen. But I'll be with thee! In sorbution of a woman scorned! What row, sickness, happiness or health, I'll pushed away-denied my suit-centemn-share and love and cherish thee as fondly ed-degraded and despised by him! and as a wife, by night and day, forever at whilst I knelt, whilst to his robes I clung thy side. My presence will be balm to 'Sdeath? it galls and mortifies my pride heal thy wounded spirit;-'twill ease thy. -but-revenge!! [enter Lothaire.] weary soul of half its care,-thy sorrow. ings 'twill mitigate, and shed the beam of joy amidst the storms of destiny, as Lot. How now? hast thou succeeded? breaks the sunbeam through a cloudy day! Queen. No-my suit has been re-ay-tis useless to regret. To banishjected. ment we must submit;--our guilt is known Lot. I thought as much. I said so and there's no other chance by which. and entertained indeed but little hopes of we can escape, unless indeed we part to thy success. meet no more. Queen. I pleaded hard but he would Lot. Part! to meet no more. not consent. I knelt and supplicated earQueen. Yes-if we love, and nestly, clung to his robes and grasped gether live as we have hitherto done we him by the hand, but he was obstinate must together fly-this very might tooamidst it all, and hurried from my pres-or thou'lt assuredly be put to death. ence. Lot. Be put to death! Lot. It but confirms what I have said. Queen. If thou'rt resolved to remain -his heart is adamant. Thy tears and and brook thy fate, yes-for as I said the prayers no one except himself could wit- King's inexorable. There's not a single ness and withstand. Thy beauty would hope that he'll recall the sentence he has have conquered any breast but his. passed. When pleading for thee, whilst Queen. I'm sorry that I humbled to the at his feet I knelt, his words were positive. churl, since it has ended as it has. Twill He said that he had banished thee and afford him room in which to exult. His thou shouldst go, or die if thou didst stay! treatment of me too-I burn with shame There's then as I have said no other way to think of it. by which we can escape. Lot. He did not offer violence, or insult,-did he? Queen. Both Lot. No other way! Queen. No-none. But why dost thou hesitate? why tremble so? why Lot. What, to a woman!-the cow-look around these walls with such affright? ard! thou seem'st to fear the presence of anQueen. Not only with disdain did he other. Is it so? or what? And now reject my suit, but whilst I knelt to him, thy gaze is fixed ou me! thine eyes are me, when I have steeped and dyed these wild and flaring too! thy cheek grows lily hands in human blood? And then pale--thy lips quiver,----and something when I recall the scene of blood and seems to choak thy speech? What death, when back to memory I bring the wouldst thou? Speak! thoughts of it, will it not harrow me and Lot. Thy love, so generous, so kind, lacerate my guilty soul! My heart! my I would not live without it for the world; heart! 'twill make a hell of that, 'twill -and with affection that has no parallell blast my hopes of happiness beyond the in history, thou hast resolved to fly with grave, and poison every hour of life [ me, and share my exile. But ah! thou have afterwards to live. little know'st the hardships that an exile Lot. Hush!-methinks I heard a step. must endure; and what would be my feel- What say'st thou wilt thou undertake ings, how would it torture me,to see the deed? thee want or in distress! I've thought of Queen. I must have time to think this; and rather than abide the risk of ban-upon it. Meet me here at dark-I'll ishment I have resolved Queen. Well---resolved? Lot. Ay--to murder the King be prepared to give an answer then;Lot. Till theu adieu,-do not fail to come. Queen. I'll not. [exeunt, separately] ACT 2. SCENE 1. In a convent-a gallery, in the centre of which a feint light is hanging, suspended from the ceiling. Thunder and lightning at intervals during the scene. Lof. Ay--but why dost thou start? Blood is but blood, and life depends upon a breath. We must all die---'tis a common lot---the kingjas well as the slave. We wept when we were born and every day shows why. One woe succeeds another, and misery is cur portion. The sooner then we cease to exist, the better for us--the less we have to endure. His death will benefit us both, the one from banishment--the other from the marriage-tie. And this very night the deed must be done Monk. Heavens what a night of vio done by thee too! lence! Gust after gust-around me the Queen. Me? done by me What, doors clap-the thunder's peal, and the make me a murderess? Adultery is a lightning's flash! and hark-the affright crime that's bad enough! Why done by ed raven shrieks aloft, whilst these old me? canst thou not do it? walls to their foundations shake! I am old-but I remember not in all life a my night like this! Who's there? Lot. [enter a Monk hastily.] [enter another Monk] I've not the chance thou hast. Queen. Chance? what chance have I Lot. The very best that possibly could be---thou sleep'st with him. Pretend thou'rt sick to-night; seem so before 2 Monk. 'Tis me! awakened by the thy maids, and do not go to rest with him, storm, I rose from my bed and looked for but retire to a seperate room ---sickness thee in thy cell, where thou wert notwill be a plausible excuse. When all are and glad I am to find thee here, for in a hushed in slumber-rise-dress-go to the night of horror and storm like this we chamber of the king-take this dagger need socie'y amidst alarm. The earth and with thee, and quietly---deeply---plunge it elements are each at war, and night and nature seems to be convulsed. But where is the abbot.? to his heart.! The hands her the dagger, which she mechanically re eives without noticing it-her looks disordered --and her eves fixed upon vacancy, as is usual when the thoughts are absorbed in a reverie,] Queen. Alas! 'tis dreadful but to think of it! When it is done will not the sigh of it appal my senses? will it not startle 1 Monk. I know not.-Hark!-hush didst thou not hear unearthly groans? No; 'twas only the murmuring of the wind or my imaginary fears perhaps. (here they are startled by a loud clap of thunder, which bursts over the convent, rolling away till |