Gab. (solus). There goes my noble, feudal, selfwill'd baron!

Epitome of what brave chivalry,

The preux chevaliers of the good old times,
Have left us. Yesterday he would have given
His lands (if he hath any), and, still dearer,
His sixteen quarterings, for as much fresh air
As would have fill'd a bladder, while he lay
Gurgling and foarning half way through the window
Of his o'erset and water-logg'd conveyance;
And now he storms at half a dozen wretches
Because they love their lives too! Yet, he's right:
Tis strange they should, when such as he may put them
To hazard at his pleasure. Oh, thou world!
Thou art indeed a melancholy jest!

SCENE II.

[Exit GABOR.

Yes!

My dream is realised-how beautiful!-
How more than all I sigh'd for! Heaven receive
A mother's thanks!-a mother's tears of joy!
This is indeed thy work!-At such an hour, too,
He comes not only as a son, but saviour.

Ur. If such a joy await me, it must double
What I now feel, and lighten from my heart

A part of the long debt of duty, not

Of love (for that was ne'er withheld)—forgive me! This long delay was not my fault. 1

Jos.

Ulric! (Embraces him.)

Ulr. My father, Siegendorf!
Wer. (starting).

The walls may hear that name!
Ulr.
Wer.

But we will talk of that anon.

Remember,

I must be known here but as Werner. Come!
Come to my arms again! Why, thou look'st all
I should have been, and was not. Josephine!
Sure 'tis no father's fondness dazzles me;
But, had I seen that form amid ten thousand
Youth of the choicest, my heart would have chosen
This for my son!

Ulr.

And yet you knew me not! Wer. Alas! I have had that upon my soul, Which makes me look on all men with an eye That only knows the evil at first glance.

Ulr. My memory served me far more fondly: I
Have not forgotten aught; and oft-times in
The proud and princely halls of—(I'll not name them,
As you say that 't is perilous)—but i' the pomp
Of your sire's feudal mansion, I look'd back
To the Bohemian mountains many a sunset,
And wept to see another day go down

O'er thee and me, with those huge hills between us.
They shall not part us more.
Wer.

I know not that.
Are you aware my father is no more?

Ulr. Oh, heavens! I left him in a green old age, And looking like the oak, worn, but still steady Amidst the elements, whilst younger trees

Fell fast around him. "T was scarce three months since. Wer. Why did you leave him?

Jos. (embracing ULRIC). Can you ask that question?
Is he not here?
Wer.
True: he hath sought his parents,
And found them; but, oh! how, and in what state!
Ulr. All shall be better'd. What we have to do
Is to proceed, and to assert our rights,
Or rather yours; for I waive all, unless
Your father has disposed in such a sort

Of his broad lands as to make mine the foremost,
So that I must prefer my claim for form:
But I trust better, and that all is yours.
Wer. Have you not heard of Stralenheim ?
Ulr.

His life but yesterday: he's here.
Wer.

I saved

You saved

I know it,

The serpent who will sting us all!

You speak

[lands:

But cannot think of sorrow now, and doubt
If I e'er felt it, 't is so dazzled from
My memory by this oblivious transport!-
My son!

Ulr. Riddles: what is this Stralenheim to us? Wer. Every thing. One who claims our father's Our distant kinsman, and our nearest foe.

Ulr. I never heard his name till now. The count,
Indeed, spoke sometimes of a kinsman, who,
If his own line should fail, might be remotely
Involved in the succession; but his titles
Were never named before me- and what then?
His right must yield to ours.

Wer.
Ay, if at Prague ;
But here he is all-powerful; and has spread
A a

Ulr.

I think you wrong him
(Excuse me for the phrase); but Stralenheim
Is not what you prejudge him, or, if so,
He owes me something both for past and present.
I saved his life, he therefore trusts in me.
He hath been plunder'd too, since he came hither:
Is sick; a stranger; and as such not now

Able to trace the villain who hath robb'd him :
I have pledged myself to do so; and the business
Which brought me here was chiefly that: but I
Have found, in searching for another's dross,
My own whole treasure-you, my parents!
Wer. (agitatedly).

Taught you to mouth that name of "villain ?"
Ulr.

Who

What

Oh, my son! -(her voice falters.)

Believe him not- —and yet!
Ulr. (starts, looks earnestly at WERNER, and then
says slowly,)
And you avow it?
Wer. Ulric! before you dare despise your father,
Learn to divine and judge his actions. Young,
Rash, new to life, and rear'd in luxury's lap,
Is it for you to measure passion's force,
Or misery's temptation? Wait — (not long,
It cometh like the night, and quickly) — Wait ! —
Wait till, like me, your hopes are blighted — till
Sorrow and shame are handmaids of your cabin;
Famine and poverty your guests at table;
Despair your bed-fellow-then rise, but not
From sleep, and judge! Should that day e'er arrive —

[The following is the original passage in the novel:"Stralenheim,' said Conrad, does not appear to be altogether the man you take him for: but were it even otherwise, he owes me gratitude not only for the past, but for what he supposes to be my present employment. I saved his life, and he therefore places confidence in me. He hath been robbed last night is sick a stranger-and in no condition to discover the villain who has plundered him; and the business on which I sought the intendant was chiefly that,'" &c.— LEE.]

2["And who,' said he, has entitled you to brand thus with ignominious epithets a being you do not know? Who has taught you that it would be even safe for my son to insult me?'It is not necessary to know the person of a ruffian,' replied Conrad indignantly, to give him the appellation he merits: and what is there in common between my father and such a character?'-'Every thing,' said Siegendorf, bitterly, -'for that ruffian was your father!'"- Ibid.]

3 [" Conrad, before you thus presume to chastise me with your eye, learn to understand my actions. Young, and inexperienced in the world-reposing hitherto in the bosom of indulgence and luxury, is it for you to judge of the force of

Should you see then the serpent, who hath coil'd
Himself around all that is dear and noble
Of you and yours, lie slumbering in your path,
With but his folds between your steps and happiness,
When he, who lives but to tear from you name,
Lands, life itself, lies at your mercy, with
Chance your conductor; midnight for your mantle;
The bare knife in your hand, and earth asleep,
Even to your deadliest foe; and he, as 't were
Inviting death, by looking like it, while
His death alone can save you :-Thank your God!
If then, like me, content with petty plunder,
You turn aside. I did so.

Hear me !

I will not brook a human voice— scarce dare
Listen to my own (if that be human still)-
Hear me ! you do not know this man I do. +
He's mean, deceitful, avaricious. You
Deem yourself safe, as young and brave; but learn
None are secure from desperation, few
From subtilty. My worst foe, Stralenheim,
Housed in a prince's palace, couch'd within
A prince's chamber, lay below my knife!
An instanta mere motion—the least impulse —
Had swept him and all fears of mine from earth.
He was within my power-my knife was raised —
Withdrawn and I'm in his : are you not so?
Who tells you that he knows you not? Who says
He hath not lured you here to end you? or
To plunge you, with your parents, in a dungeon?
[He pauses.

Ulr. Proceed Wer.

proceed!

Me he hath ever known, And hunted through each change of time— name — fortune

And why not you? Are you more versed in men?
He wound snares round me; flung along my path
Reptiles, whom, in my youth, I would have spurn'd
Even from my presence; but, in spurning now,
Fill only with fresh venom. Will you be
More patient? Ulric!-Ulric!-there are crimes
Made venial by the occasion, and temptations
Which nature cannot master or forbear. 5

Ulr. (who looks first at him, and then at JOSEPHINE).
My mother!
Wer.

Ah! I thought so you have now Only one parent. I have lost alike Father and son, and stand alone. Ulr.

But stay!

[WERNER rushes out of the chamber,

the passions, or the temptations of misery? Wait till. like me, you have blighted your fairest hopes-have endured humiliation and sorrow-poverty and famine- before you pretend to judge of their effects on you! Should that miserable day ever arrive," &c. - Ibid.]

4["You do not know this man,' continued be: 'I do! I believe him to be mean, sordid, deceitful! You will conceive yourself safe, because you are young and brave! Learn, however, none are so secure but desperation or subtilty may reach them! Stralenheim, in the palace of a prince, was in my power! My knife was held over him I forbore- and I am now in his,'" &c. &c. — Ibid.]

["Me he has known invariably through every change of fortune or of name- and why not you? Me he has entrapped are you more discreet? He has wound the snares of Idenstein around me;-of a reptile whom, a few years ago, I would have spurned from my presence, and whom, in spurning now, I have furnished with fresh venom. Will you be more patient? Conrad, Conrad, there are crimes rendered venial by the occasion, and temptations too exquisite for human fortitude to master or forbear," &c. — Ibid.]

Must I bear this?

Gab.
Ulr.
Pshaw we all must bear
The arrogance of something higher than
Ourselves the highest cannot temper Satan,
Nor the lowest his vicegerents upon earth.
I've seen you brave the elements, and bear
Things which had made this silkworm cast his
skin-

And shrink you from a few sharp sneers and words?
Gab. Must I bear to be deem'd a thief? If 't were
A bandit of the woods, I could have borne it-
There's something daring in it; but to steal
The moneys of a slumbering man!-

Ulr.

You are not guilty?

Gab.

It seems, then,

Do I hear aright?

What hath caused all this?

Ulr. You, baron, I believe; but as the effect
Is harmless, let it not disturb you. -Gabor !
There is your sword; and when you bare it next,
Let it not be against your friends.

[ULRIC pronounces the last words slowly and em
phatically in a low voice to GABOR.
I thank you

Gab.

Less for my life than for your counsel. Stral.

Brawls must end here.

Gab. (taking his sword). They shall. wrong'd me, Ulric,

These

You have

More with your unkind thoughts than sword: I would The last were in my bosom rather than

The first in yours. I could have borne yon noble's Absurd insinuations-ignorance

And dull suspicion are a part of his

Entail will last him longer than his lands. —

But I may fit him yet:—you have vanquish'd me.
I was the fool of passion to conceive

That I could cope with you, whom I had seen
Already proved by greater perils than
Rest in this arm. We may meet by and by,
However but in friendship.

[Exit GABOR I will brook

Stral. No more! This outrage following up his insults, Perhaps his guilt, has cancell'd all the little I owed him heretofore for the so-vaunted Aid which he added to your abler succour. Ulric, you are not hurt?

Ulr.
Not even by a scratch.
Stral. (to IDENSTEIN). Intendant! take your

measures to secure

I may depend upon you?

Ulr.

To doubt it.

Stral.

"T were too late

Let no foolish pity shake

Your bosom (for the appearance of the man
Is pitiful) he is a wretch, as likely

To have robb'd me as the fellow more suspected,
Except that circumstance is less against him;
He being lodged far off, and in a chamber
Without approach to mine: and, to say truth,
I think too well of blood allied to mine,
To deem he would descend to such an act :
Besides, he was a soldier, and a brave one
Once though too rash.

Ulr.
And they, my lord, we know
By our experience, never plunder till
[heirs,
They knock the brains out first-which makes them
Not thieves. The dead, who feel nought, can lose