And when the fit is on, like other fools, Hoh. My good old friend! your loyal nature yields Ready to clap sedition on the back, Wal. Yes, it does, indeed! His father was my friend and fellow-soldier; Upon his country's altar. At my side He fell his wife and son, with his last breath, Of half its duties speedily curtailed; For grief soon bowed the widow to her grave My wishes scarce kept pace with his advancement. You were our theme, Alasco. Alasco. A subject, sir, unworthy of discussion, If slander have not given it a zest. Wal. Slander, Alasco! Alas. Ay, sir, slander's abroad, And busy; few escape her-she can take All shapes and sometimes, from the blistered lips Of galled authority, will pour her slime On all who dare dispute the claims of pride, Or question the high privilege of oppression. Hoh. Your words seem pointed, sir; and splenetic. Alas. They are honest, my lord, and you well understand them. Wal. What means this heat, Alasco? Innocence Can fear no slander, and suspects no foe Alas. He's on his guard who knows his enemy, And innocence may safely trust her shield Against an open foe; but who's so mailed That slander shall not reach him?-coward calumny Wal. Alasco!-Count Alasco! Alas. (Returning.) Sir, your pleasure? Wal. Tis now, methinks, some twenty years, or more, Since that brave man, your father, and my friend, While life scarce fluttered on his quivering lips, Alas. And nobly, sir, your generous spirit stands Wal. "Tis well!—perhaps I may assume I've been Alasco's friend. Alas. My friend!—my father!—say, my more than father! And let me still, with love and reverence, pay The duty of a son. Wal. A son of mine Must be the soul of loyalty and honor: Alas. Is this to me!—has slander gone so far, Wal. How suits it with the honor of Alasco, Alas. Have I done this? Wal. How must it soothe thy father's hovering shade, To hear his name, so long to glory dear, Profaned and sullied in sedition's mouth, The countersign of turbulence and treason? Alas. The proud repulse that suits a charge like this, Preferred by lips less reverenced, I forbear. Wal. Are you not stained With foul disloyalty a blot indelible? Have you not practised on the senseless rabble, Fill disaffection breeds in every breast, And spawns rebellion? Alas. No! by heaven, not so! With most unworthy patience have I borne My country's ruin-seen an ancient state As Europe's public law, e'en on the authority And to his interference owe our safety. Alas. Tyrants, proud lord, are never safe, nor should be; The ground is mined beneath them as they tread; Haunted by plots, cabals, conspiracies, Their lives are long convulsions, and they shake, Surrounded by their guards and garrisons. Hoh. Your patriot care, sir, would redress all wrongs That spring from harsh restraints of law and justice. Your virtue prompts you to make war on tyrants, And like another Brutus free your country. Alas. Why, if there were some slanderous tool of state Some taunting, dull, unmannered deputy— Some district despot prompt to play the Tarquin, By heaven! I well could act the Roman part, And strike the brutal tyrant to the earth, Although he wore the mask of Hohendahl. Hoh. Ha! darest thou thus provoke me, insolent! (Draws.) Wal. (Advancing between them.) Rash boy, forbear! My lord, you are too hasty. Alas. This roof is your protection from my arm. Wal. Methinks, young man, a friend of mine might claim More reverence at your hands. Alas. Thy friend! by heaven! That sacred title might command my worship; Alas. Authority! Show me authority in honor's garb, And I will down upon the humblest knee Will turn to bitterest gall, and the o'ercharged heart Hoh. (Going to the side scene.) My servants, there, Beyond forbearance. Seize the Count Alasco (Two of the Baron's servants enter.) I here proclaim him rebel to the state. Alas. (Drawing and putting himself on his defense.) Slaves! At your peril, venture on my sword! Wal. My lord! my lord! this is my house-my castle; You do not-cannot-mean this violation: Beneath the sanctuary of a soldier's roof, Hoh. But not his sovereign's; You would not screen a traitor from the law! In safety. Here my honor guards him. Hoh. Ha! Your loyalty, my friend, seems rather nice, Wal. Yes, the loyalty That is not nice, in honor and good faith, May serve the tool-the slave-the sycophant But does not suit the soldier. Hoh. Colonel Walsingham, My station must prescribe my duty here:-(To the attendants.) Bear hence your prisoner, and await my orders. Wal. (Drawing and interposing.) Ha! touch him, ruffians, on your lives! By heaven! This arm has not yet lost its vigor. Hence Hence, miscreants, from my presence lest my rage Forget that you are unworthy of my sword. (The Baron motions his attendants to retire.) honor My lord, this is an outrage on my Alasco, like a father I have loved thee, And hoped a worn-out soldier might have found Fit refuge, in the winter of his age, Beneath thy sheltering virtues; but no more: You've heard the charge, and as you may, must answer it. It had been death to hear it: But, thank heaven! My soul in honor, as in duty clear, Indignant triumphs o'er unjust reproach, And holds her seat unshaken. For this lord This minion of usurped authority, He knows I hold him less in fear than scorn, And when, and where he dares, will answer him. SELECTION XXIX. SALADIN—MAĻEK ADHEL-ATTENDANT.-Anonymous. Attendant. A stranger craves admittance to your highness. Saladin. Whence comes he? Atten. That I know not Enveloped in a vestment of strange form, Atten. Thy royal brother. Sal. Bring him instantly. (Exit Attendant.) (Enter Attendant, and Malek Adhel.) Sal. Leave us together. (Exit Attendant.) (Aside.) I should know that form. Now summon all thy fortitude, my soul, Nor, though thy blood cry for him, spare the guilty. Malek Adhel. Behold it, then! Sal. I see a traitor's visage. |