Barcely audible in the distance-) enters and approaching her observes her agitation,] Lot. Trembling? 2 Monk. 'Tis terrible! my knees Queen. Yes I am glad thou art against each other shake!-and see come. We creep and cringe along these through yonder casement how the light galleries, like midnight thieves for petty ning flashes-streak after streak! Asplunder, with livid looks and noiseless hither I came I passed through the statue feet, afraid of our own shadows. 'Twas gallery, and the sculptured dead seemed a shadow that startled me-Hark! what to glare at me and gibber menaces. noise is that. Methought I heard a huknew 'twas but imaginary, but yet I fled man voice, and on the stairs the tread of with terror, from the sight, nor dared to heavy feet. Again-harklook behind me! But come,-let's seek Lot. No-all's hnshed except ourthe abbot and assemble at our prayers selves. Nothing is echoed here but our Methinks this storm forbodes no good, and whisperings, and still as death it seems bemark my words if by and by we hear of tween the pauses of the storm. some foul deed. the storm increases. 1 Queen. (in a reverie) A murderess! [exeunt together-what, be a murderess? Alas! my nature shudders at the thought! And then to think of it,-to know that I have yet the deed to do-'tis worse, far worse, than all SCENE 2 A corridor in the palace between several our fears of hell-worse, worse, than if sleeping apartments. The doors are seen on either side, one of which to the right is the entrance to the deed were done! 'Tis as horrible as the royal chamber A table in the centre aud af the dead could feel the creepings of the large arched window back, through which the worm that feeds upon them!-as horrible lightning occasionally gleams and the violence of as if barefooted, amidst the darkness of a the storm is visible.-Enter the Queen. In one hand she carrics a dagger, and in the other a tomb I walked, trampling at every step lighted lamp. o'er some disjointed skeleton!-as if my husband were already slain,-and his ghost, in bloody shroud, with one hand pointed to his wound and with the other beckoned me! Methinks I see him now Queen. This lamp and dagger both are requisite both are, for I must light my way with this to do a dark and bloody deed with that. Ere this my hus- the blood- the shroud---the sightless eyeband has retired, has closed his weary bal and the lean-long finger with which eyes in yonder chamber. Sleep on! sleep he points at me!--ha-must I do such a on! thou shalt not wake again-no, no on earth, but in eternity! This glittering deed as that! that! that! Lot. Hush! blade shall ere an hour be red within thy (she appears wild and convulsed with emotion.) blood, and thou shalt be a cold and For my sake be upon thy guard. These stiffened corpse, fit only for the worm to spacious corridors will echo thy words feed upon-to coil and crawl around. with double force, and we'll be overheard if thou dost speak so loud. But why is this? thou tremblest like a leaf! why be alarmed without a canse? the deed's not d ne. We have only talk'd of it as yet and can easily retract. [the tempest without continues unabated] How the storm rages---'tis a fearful night the pattering rain against the window drives, and cold and cheerless is the air! --I surely must have more than woman's fortitude, or else the very thought of my Quern. Retract! no; I've undertaken intents, on such a night as this would it, and will accomplish it-to-night--this shrink my soul with fear and send a thril of horror through my heart! But no very hour! Away all other thoughts but no- this determination! Like birds of prey the King's death we have resolved upon at night upon dismantled towers, where -I've sworn irrevocable oaths to it,walls are bare and chambers desolate,--and die he must! But where is my ac so let it sit amidst the horrors here,cessary? why comes he not? Hark! a footstep! 'tis he! [laying her hand upon her heart] and goad me onward to the deed! That lamp; that dagger too; give me both. [she places the lamp and dagger on the table, and at that instant a vivid flash of lightning illuminates the I'll go. Remain thou till I return. And corridor, causing her to start with fear. Lothaire if throughout this gallery thou hearest a Queen. The lamp! (she appears congroan be thou assured it is the echoed fused and alarmed,) I have forgotten it. gasp, the dying cry, of him that I have 'Tis with the King, 1 recollect-I placed killed. it on the table by his side. Lot. It must not remain there. In, (he gives her the lamp and dagger she exits cau-in, at once-go-quick and bring it forth, tiously into the King's chamber.) Queen. No, not I. What enter yon. Lot. She goes to kill the king--to der chamber where he lies? Expect it shed her husband's blood! The crown, not--of me. I could not gaze again upon the revenue's and kingly power will all those snow-white sheets, bedaub'd with be mine, secured by oaths and bonds to gore amidst the fearful agonies of death--me and my posterity forever! Enjoy the on which indelibly is crime. I could not thought, exult my towering soul, be glad brook again the sight of him, to see his amidst the flow of blood, be glad of death sightless eyes that gazed on me so dreadand triumph in calamity! Hark! (listening fully their last! No, I'd rather die; die on at the door) his groans; his dying groans; the spot, than enter yonder door! I hear them now, and they reveal the bloody truth. 'Tis done; nor is the guilt and stain of it on me! The crown the crown! 'tis mine! 'tis mine! Lot. Thou'lt not go? Queen. I cannot. Let. Then I must. If it were left, and burning as it is, the inquest that will be held upon his death would require no [re-enter the Queen violently agitated, with the stronger proof of who it was that murderdagger]. led him. Queen. Who's there? oh !!! Lot. Is it done? (he treads softly towards the door, and, pushing it slowly open, enters the chamber.) Queen. Didst thou not hear? Heard'st thou not the rattling in his throat-his ago- Queen. No, I could not look again upnies, his lamentations, cries,-his cry of on the havoc I have made; the thoughts murder, murderess, and blood, as o'er him of it alone are terrible! When I ap came the last cold sweat of death! Oh, proached the chamber where he lies, rewhat a wretch I've made of myself! I've membrance softly told her soothing tale,. damn'd and doom'd myself to guilt, re-and mercy for a moment check'd my morse and hell. I've mix'd the remnant steps. I halted at the door, but waver'd of my life with gall, and poisoned every not. I raised the latch as if a thief to hope 1 entertained! I've wreck'd my steal, and crept beside my husband's bed. earthly hopes within a sea of blood, and The glare of the light I carried awakened dare not look for happiness beyond the him--he spoke, and kindly asked me what grave, but must hereafter drag along my unusual care had kept me up? when inlife in misery, and hell, dark hell, and its stantly--as quick as gleams the lightning's remorse expect when death demands me! flash---I drove this dagger to his heart, and Lot. Nay, never mind the future, but felt his blood gush into my face! he bless thy influential stars if we escape,--groaned--struggled---fix'd his ghastly eyes if we are not detected. The King has on mine---fell back--and died! left no lawful heir alive to reign, and now his diadem belongs to thee. Queen. To me! belongs to me? Lot. It does; the crown is thine; but by the Salique law thou'lt be deprived of it, unless (re-enter Lothaire, with the lamp-he appears disor dered and wild, looking behind him asif atraid of being followed.) Queen. How now, Lothaire? thou'rt pale as death. Queen. What, wilt thou wed a mur- Lot. Pale, am I? I have seen enough deress, Lothaire? wilt wed the guilty to turn me pale---enough to turn the white widow of a man who dealt the blow rose red. that took her husband's life? Behold -see here-this dagger stained with the King's blood! Lot. But where's the lamp? Queen. What, what hast thou seen? Lot. Seen! I've seen what thou hast done! The murder'd king, as there he lies, stretch'd out upon his gory bed---such over the world, and mention murders that a sight! Queen. Oh!! Lot. But come-go wash thy hands. There's here and there a spot of blood on them. Thy face is sprinkled too. Away ..there's not a moment's time to be lost. Here's the lamp---take it with thee. (giving the lamp into her hand.) were done. A man that desires to speak with thec. His hasty looks foretell of fearful news. He said he had no time to spare, and bade me haste. Queen. This dagger tho'---what shall Abbot. Admit him. (exit 1st Monk.) be done with it? were it unluckily found) 2d M. His looks bespeak fearful tidupon us, it would at or.ce betray our guilt. ings, our brother says. I hope the belLot. Give it to me. I'll bury it. (exe- dame's prophecies are not fulfilled. I hope unt separately.) (SCENE 3.-A gallery in the Convent as before, the morning after the storm. Enter the two monks meeting.. of murder we're not doomed to hear. But see he comes. ---- (enter Montalt followed by the Monk.) Abbot. What, my old and honor'd friend, Montalt. Peace be with thee. 1st M. Wellmet. How goes the time? How wears thine age? But why is this? 2d M. The sun is up, and on his way Thy features indicate a dreadful tale that two hours gone. An awful night and an thou would'st tell to me, but feeling seems uncommon tempest. to stifle utterance. Thou wouldst, but 1st M. It was. But see, the Abbot can'st not speak. What's in thy bosom comes this way. that thou graspest? (enter St. Pierre Duval, the Abbot.) 2d M. Good morrow, holy father. Abbot Peace be with you. Good morrow, both. A fearful night has pass'd. How slept ye? 1st M. could not sleep- Abbot. I men like ye cannot, how fares the wretch who has within his breast a secret crime? How fares the murderer on such a night, 'midst his conflicting Mon. This-behold it---a dagger-- (producing the one that Lothaire received from the Abbot. 'Tis stain'd with blood. Abbot. Is the King dead? Mon. He is murdered! murdered! thoughts and guilty fears? But hark (The Abbot and Monks pause with their hands (noise heard within) there's some one knocking at the gate. Perhaps a weary clasped.) But when, Montalt? when, when was traveler who lacks a little food and this butchery done? and who's the regirest. Go; see who it is, and what he wants. cide? (exit the 1st Monk. Wait Mon. 'Twas done last night. But 2d M. At times last night, the rage of question me no more about it. My burstthe storm was such, I almost feared these ing heart's too full to answer thee. battlements would fall around us. They Abbot. But the murderer? Mon. Nay, ask me not. As yet I say that trees were wrenched up by the roots and houses were blown down-that dare not say whom I suspect. desolation mark'd the lightning's vivid awhile and time will disclose it all. Abbot. But how did it occur? Relate stroke, that nature fought a civil war, and ruin followed it. Stranger still, they say, the facts as they are known to thee. at intervals the moon shone out between the dense dark night, as red as blood. time to spare that it would occupy, for I I go Old men and women talk of it; speak of must back to court again. But ere other times when storms like this pass'd remark-there's blood upon the blade. As Mon. No, St. Pierre-I've not the VOL. III-11-2. thou canst see and testify; and these men sins and crimes--and this perhaps by too; 'tis stain'd with blood and grim'd such a chance may come to light. As it is the murderer is safe; suspicion cannot rest on any one, and he may roam unpun. with dirt. Abbot. It is, Montalt. Mon. Remark the hour I brought it ished through the world. here, and, if thy country's law should call Mon. No----he shall not escape unpunon thee for evidence, in court, remember ished. Things that were unforseen will it. Produce it there in its polluted state, often startle us; we know not what an and testify what thou hast seen and heard. hour may bring about, as the king's unexAbbot. I will. pected death has prov'd; and truth at Mon. Then here-(giving the dagger times is stranger than the deep and hid into the Abbot's care) take it. And ye, den mysteries of the ocean, or wildest ye'll swear to this-wilt thou? (to 1st freak that fancy could invent. If ye'll Monk.) 1st M. I will. Mon. And thou? (to 2d Monk.) 2d M. I will. but institute a court to try the murder, l Ask me not. Who, when and Mon. Fare ye well then, till ye are called upon---called by the laws to bring what, don't ask of me. I dare make an the murderers of your king to light, to answer to them. I would not prepos shame, the scaffold, and death! Fare- sess your minds. Do you the trial insti well. tute and I'll perform what I have pro Abbot. Peace be with thee. well. (Exeunt separately.) ACT 3. Fare-mised. SCENE 1. A chamber or gallery in the palace. Enter De Lara and Bonaventurc, noblemen. De L. Let day be night; let nature be reversed! cease sun and moon to shine; and ye, ye stars, that nightly glitter o'er the vault of heaven, resign your light and hide forever from the view. Hide, for he is dead, the king, the good, the brave! The ruffian's knife has shed his blood, and deprived us of one whose loss we can never replace. Queen. What now Lothaire ? Lot. Speak low-we may be overBon. So old a man, so good a King, heard.-Are all the inmates of the palace and yet they had the hearts to murder roused? have all beheld the deed? him, in his chamber,too, unarmed, and hush'd in sleep. Queen. They have. Assembled round the corpse they mourn, wring their hands, (Montalt enters, arrived from the convent) and curse aloud, with gnashing teeth the midnight murderer! They little think Montalt. With tears, my lords, no they curse their guilty queen longer let us wail the old man's fate; but Lot. Who raised the alarm? seek with energy his murderers out, and Queen. Montalt. He first discovered as we ought pursue the hellish crime. the deed, called the household up with De L. But time alone can tell the deafening cries and made the very walls dismal tale: or else the bed of death, with clamour shake. But-that dagger some future year, reveal it. He was be--didst bury it? loved by all, whom to suspect or whom Lot. I did. Beneath a marble bust to accuse we do not know. Upon their that in the garden stands, I dug the earth, death-beds men oft disclose their secret laid the green sod carefully over it and Lot. Accused of it! by whom? there it lies to rust and moulder with the soil. But let me charge thee to be careful what thou dost. Do nothing that may obliges me to arrest thy person-but I at all convey the slightest hint that thou'rt hope, sincerely hope thou'rt innocent. the murderess. Start not when the name Lot. Innocent! I am, Ubaldo-be of him that's dead may be mentioned. thou assured of it. These hands were Let not remorse prompt thee to utter aword never stained in human blood. I'll prive that might be deemed contrition for the my innocence;-I can with ease. What, crime. A word might ruin us. Be ever accused of murder? me! and of the king's in tears-Lament, sob-sleep alone at Is't possible that I am charged with it! acnight, for in thy dreams if thou shouldst cused-arrested-to be tried-and for the talk, betrayed we both might easily be. murdering of the man to whom I owe eterThou'lt think of this? nal thanks for all that I possess ; the gen Queen. Yes;-Alas! how I regret erous king who took me while a child, that it is done! I wish that memory could whilst hid in rags and poverty, and rear'd blot it out! Throughout my days to come me up to fortune and fame! It is absurd, shall I not shrink from human eyes, and Ubaldo-absurd. Dost think thyself that seek cbscurity's dim twilight shades, I am guilty of the crime? tremble at every sound heard in the Ubal. Heaven forbid-I think thou,rt night, and in continual fear hereafter live! innocent, and think that thou'lt establish it Can I the gaze of others meet and think beyond a doubt. they know not of my crime? or ever Lot. Could I be such a wretch ?again in quiet sleep by phantoms undis- so lost to every sense of gratitude, so lost turbed? Oh, little did I think, remorse, of and dead to every future hope! thy conflicting pangs, thy torturing sus [en e! Lot Thou'lt remember what I said. Ubal. No, no, I firmly believe that thou art innocent. Lot. I am, Ubaldo I am. And since it Queen. Yes; but hark; there's some has come to this, we'll let them prove that one coming. Away; we must not be seen I am not. together these two or three weeks yet. I'll leave thee now, and come again to night. Be here upon the spot in readiness to meet me. Lot. I will. (she hurries through the panel-Lothaire closes it.) [exeunt, the guards following them.] SCENE 3. A council chamber, crowded-noblemen, citizens, guards, efficers &c,-De Lara and Bona. venture seated. All's yet secure. We're not suspected De L. My lords and fellow-citizens, even. If she but keeps upon her guard we've met, by common sympathy aroused there's not a danger-not a fear. Fate, to try the late event which has with blood be only thou propitious, and soon the and crime, abused and stain'd the pages crown and power will both be mine, my of our history. The aged King, last night proudest hopes be more than realized, and whilst sleeping in his bed, was by the asuniversal homage paid to me. Base are sassin's blade bereft of life; and there tothe ladders by which I climb to it; I've day he lies-he who yesterday was King. practised guilt, deceit and treachery; but He was beloved by all of us-amidst us once upon the throne I'll lay aside the he was born, amidst us he has lived; our means I've used to accomplish it, and equal though our King-unkind to none, live and reign an alter'd man. (Ubaldo enters, followed by his guards.) Ubal. Stay. Lot. Stay for what?. but generous to all at once a father, friend and gracious King. Dead! dead! but yet his memory shall in our hearts forever live, and in the chronicles of kings one more unfortunate and better loved Ubal. The lords of France, her citi- shall not be recorded. Then rose, exert zens and influential men, this hour in sol- yourselves, my friends: and with deteremn council sit, to try the late cold-blood- mined hearts pursue the murderer till he ed murder of the King. Thou art accus- is found. 'Tis time the trial was commenced. Call in the witnesses (exit an ed of it. |