Kneel to your rightful king: the blow for free- | To calm the uproar, and recall, from carnage, dom Gives you the rights of men. And, oh! my father, Evan. My child! my daughter! sav'd again by Pho. Now let the monster yield. My best Eu- Euph. My lord! my Phocion! welcome to my Lo! there the wonders of Euphrasia's arm! A spectacle for public view. Euphrasia! Evan. To her direct thy looks: there fix thy And gaze with wonder there. The life I gave her, Pho. It has. Bvan. Where is Timoleon? His conqu'ring troops. Euph. Oh! once again, my father, Phil. I am rewarded: feelings such as mine Pho. He guards the citadel; there gives his And learn to emulate the Grecian Daughter. orders [Exeunt. A MELODRAMA, IN TWO ACTS.-BY I. POCOCK. ACT I. Persons Represented KELMAR. SCENE I.-The Banks of a River. On the right, in the distance, a rocky eminence, on which is a windmill at work-a cottage in front.-Sunset. MUSIC. THE MILLER'S MEN are seen in perspective, descending the eminence-they cross the river in boats, and land near the cottage, with their sacks, singing the following ROUND. When the wind blows, When the mill goes, Our hearts are all light and merry When the wind drops, When the mill stops, We drink and sing, hey down derry. ZINGRA. CLAUDINE. LAURETTE. RAVINA. Enter KELMAR, from the cottage. early and late the miller thrives; he that was my Kel. What! more sacks, more grist to the mill! tenant is now my landlord; this hovel, that once sheltered him, is now the only dwelling of bankrupt broken-hearted Kelmar-well, I strove my best against misfortune, and, thanks be to heaven, have fallen respected, even by my enemies. Enter CLAUDINE, with a basket. So, Claudine, you are returned. Where stayed you so long? Cla. I was obliged to wait ere I could cross the ferry-there were other passengers Kel. Amongst whom I suppose was one in whose company time flew so fast-the sun had set before [Exeunt two in the boat. you had observed it. Cla. No, indeed, father: since you desired me not too meet Lothair-and I told him what you had desired-I have never seen him but in the cottage here, when you were present. Kel. You are a good girl-a dutiful child, and I believe you-you never yet deceived me. Cla. Nor ever will, dear father-butKel. But what? -he has protected you and your child, and I honour him. " Cla. I-I find it very lonely passing the borders said one; "Now! now we may secure her," cried of the forest without-without Kel. Without Lothair? Cla. You know, 'tis dangerous, father. Kel. If not to Grindoff, to whom do you allude? Lot. Listen: - as I crossed the hollow way in the forest, I heard a rustling in the copse. Claudine had reached the bank above. As I was following, voices, subdued and whispering, struck my ear. Her name was distinctly pronounced: "She comes," the second: and instantly two men advanced; a sudden exclamation burst from my lips, and arrested their intent; they turned to seek me, and intruder. Stretched beneath a bush of holly, I lay concealed; they passed within my reach; I scarcely breathed, while I observed them to be ruffians, uncouth and savage-they were banditti. Kel. Banditti! are they not yet content? that I had-all that the hand of Providence had spared, they have deprived me of; and would they take my child? Kel. Not half so dangerous as love-subdue it, with dreadful imprecations vowed death to the child, in time. Cla. But the robbers! Kel. Robbers! what then?-they cannot injure thee or thy father-alas! we have no more to lose -yet thou hast one treasure left, innocence !guard well thy heart, for should the fatal passion there take root, 'twill rob thee of thy peace. Cla. You told me, once, love's impulse could not be resisted. Kel. When the object is worthless, it should not be indulged. Cla. Is Lothair worthless? Kel. No; but he is poor almost as you are. Cla. Then I must be unhappy if I wed the miller Grindoff. Kel. Not so-not so;-independence gives comfort, but love without competence is endless misery. You can never wed Lothair. Cla. (Sighing.) I can never love the miller. Kel. Then you shall never marry him-though to see you Grindoff's wife be the last wish of your old father's heart.-Go in, child; go in, Claudine. (Claudine kisses h's hand, and exit into the cottage.) Tis plain her heart is rivetted to Lothair, and honest Grindoff yet must sue in vain. Enter LOTHAIR, hastily. Lot. Ah! Kelmar, and alone; - where is Claudine? Kel. At home, in her father's house, where should she be ? Lot. Then she has escap'd-she is safe, and I am happy-I did not accompany her in vain. Kel. Accompany!-accompany!-Has she then told me a falsehood? Were you with her, Lothair? Lot. No-ye-yes. (Asile.) I must not alarm him. Kel. What mean these contradictions? Lot. She knew not I was near her-you have denied our meeting, but you cannot prevent my loving her I have watched her daily through the village and along the borders of the forest. Kel. I thank you; but she needs no guard; her poverty will protect her from a thief. Lot. Will her beauty protect her from a liber All Lot. "Tis plain they would. Now, Kelmar, hear the last proposal of him you have rejected. I'll seek these robbers! if I should fall, your daughter will more readily obey your wish, and become the wife of Grindoff. If I should succeed, promise her to me. The reward I shall receive will secure our future comfort, and thus your fears and your objections both are satisfied. Kel. (Affected.) Lothair, thou art a good lad, a noble lad, and worthy my daughter's love; she had been freely thine, but that by sad experience I know how keen the pangs of penury are to a parent's heart. Lot. I'll follow; it may be my last farewell. Kel. Come in- I see the mill has stopped. Grindoff will be here anon; he always visits me at night-fall, when labour ceases. Come. [Exit Kelmar into the cottage. Lot. Yes, at the peril of my life, I'll seek them. With the juice of herbs my face shall be discoloured, and, in the garb of misery, I'll throw myself within their power the rest I leave to Providence. (Music.) But the miller comes. [Exit to the cottage, the miller appears in rerspectire coming from the crag in the rock-the boat disappears on the opposite side. Enter the two Robbers, RIBER and GOLOTZ, hastily, -they rush up to the cottage, and peep in at the window. Rib. (Retiring from the window.) We are too lateshe has reached the cottage. Gol. Curse on the interruption that detained us; we shall be rated for this failure. Rib. Hush! not so loud. (Goes again cautiously to the window of the cottage.) Ha! Lothair. Gol. Lothair! 'twas he, then, that marred our purpose; he shall smart for't. Rib. Back! back! he comes. On his return he dics; he cannot pass us both. (Music. They retire behind a tree.-A boat passes in the distance from the mouth of the cavern in the rock beneath the mill, and then draws up to the bank. Enter GRINDOFF, THE MILLER, in the boat, who jumps ashore. Re-enter LOTHAIR, at the moment, from the cottage. Gri. (Disconcerted.) Lothair! Lot. Ay, my visit here displeases you, no doubt. Gri. Nay, we are rivals, but not enemies, I trust. We love the same girl; wo strive the best we can to gain her: if you are fortunate, I'll wish you joy with all my heart; if I should have the luck on't, you'll do the same by me, I hope. Lot. You have little fear; I am poor, you are rich. He needn't look far that would see the end on't. Gri. But you are young and likely. I am honest and rough; the chances are as much yours as mine. Lot. Well, time will show. I bear you no enmity. Farewell! (Crosses.) Gri. (Aside.) He must not pass the forest. (To Lothair.) Whither go you? Lot. To the village; I must haste, or 'twill be late ere I reach the ferry. (It begins to grow dark.) Rib. (Who with Golotz is watching them.) He will escape us yet. Gri. Stay, my boat shall put you across the river. Besides, the evening looks stormy-come, it will save your journey half a league. Rib. (Aside.) It will save his life. Lot. Well, I accept your offer, and I thank you. Gri. Your hand. Lot. Farewell! (He goes into the boat, and pushes off.) Gri. So, I am rid of him; if he had met Claudine! but she is safe-now, then, for Kelmar. [Exit into the cottage. Re-enter RIBER and GOLOTZ. Rib. Curse on this chance! we have lost him! Gol. But a time may come. Rib. A time shall come, and shortly, too. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Forest-distant thunder. Enter KARL, dragging after him a portmanteau. Karl. Here's a pretty mess! here's a precious spot of work!-Pleasant, upon my soul-lost in a labyrinth, without love or liquor-the sun gone down, a storm got up, and no getting out of this vile forest, turn which way one will. Count. (Calling without.) Halloo! Karl! Karl! Karl. Ab, you may call and bawl, master of mine; you'll not disturb any thing here but a wild boar or two, and a wolf, perhaps. Enter COUNT FREDERICK FRIBERG. Count. Karl, where are you? Karl. Where am I! that's what I want to know -this cursed wood has a thousand turnings, and not one that turns right. Count. Careless coxcomb! said you not you could remember the track? Karl. So I should, sir, if I could find the pathbut trees will grow, and since I was here last, the place has got so bushy and briery, that-that I have lost my way. Count. You have lost your senses. Karl. No, sir, I wish I had; unfortunately, my senses are all in the highest state of perfection. Count. Why not use them to more effect? Count. What now? Karl. I felt a spot of rain on my nose as big as a bullet. (Thunder and rain.) There, there, it's coming on again; seek some shelter, sir; some hollow tree, whilst I, for my sins, endeavour once more to find the way, and endure another currycombing among these cursed brambles. Come, sir. (The storm increases.) Lord, how it rumbles-this way, sir-this way. [Exeunt. SCENE III-A Room in the Cottage. A Door. A Window. A fire,-tables and chairs, &c. GRINDOFF, and KELMAR, discovered sitting at the table. Thunder and rain. Kel. "Tis a rough night, miller: the thunder roars, and, by the murmuring of the flood, the mountain torrents have descended. Poor Lothair! he'll scarcely have crossed the ferry. Gri. Lothair by this is safe at home, old friend; before the storm commenced, I passed him in my boat across the river. (Aside.) He seems less anxious for his daughter than for this bold stripling. Kel. Worthy man! you'll be rewarded for all such deeds hereafter. Thank heaven, Claudine is safe! Hark! [Thunder heard. Gri. (Aside.) She is safe by this time, or I am 'much mistaken. Kel. She will be here anon. Gir. (Aside.) I doubt that. (To Kelmar.) Come, here's health, old Kelmar,-here's Claudine! (Drinks. (Drinks.) Kel. Claudine,-heaven bless her! Gir. Ah, Kelmar, would I could once call you father! Kel. You may do soon; but even your protection would now, I fear, be insufficient to Gri. What mean you?-Insufficient! Kel. The robbers-this evening in the forest-- Kel. (Rising.) Did not Lothair tell you? Kel. Yes! but all's well: be not alarmed-see, she is here. Gri. Here! Enter CLAUDINE.-Grindoff endeavours to suppress his surprise. Gri. Claudine! Curse on them both! Gri. 'Sdeath!-you-you said robbers, did you not? They never have appeared but singly; therefore, I thought you meant two. Kel. You are right; but for Lothair they had deprived me of my child. Gri. How!-Did Lothair? Humph! he's a courageous youth. Cla. That he is; but he's gentle, too. What has happened? Kel. Nothing, child, nothing. (Aside to Grindoff.) Karl. (Calling without.) Holloa! Holloa! Gri. Not so; it may be dangerous. Kel. Danger comes in silence and in secret; my door was never shut against the wretched while I knew prosperity, nor shall it be closed now to my fellows in misfortune. (To Claudine.) Open the door, I say. [The knock is repeated, and Claudine opens the door. Enter KARL, with a portmanteau. Karl. Why, in the name of dark nights and tempests, didn't you open the door at first!-Have you no charity? Kel. In our hearts plenty, in our gift but little; yet all we have is yours. Karl. Then I'll share all you have with my master: thank you, old gentleman: you won't fare the worse for sheltering honest Karl, and Count Frederick Friberg. Gri. Friberg! Karl. Ay, I'll soon fetch him; he's waiting now, looking as melancholy as a mourning-coach in a snow-storm, at the foot of a tree, wet as a drowned rat; so stir up the fire, bless you! clap on the kettle, give us the best eatables and drinkables you have, a clean table-cloth, a couple of warm beds, and don't stand upon ceremony; we'll accept every civility and comfort you can bestow upon us without scruple. [Throws down the portmanteau, and exit. Gri. Friberg, did he say? Cla. 'Tis the young count, so long expected. Kel. Can it be possible? without attendants, and at such a time too? Gri. (Looking at the portmanteau, on which is the name in brass nails.) It must be the same!-Kelmar, good night. [Going up towards the door. Kel. Nay, not yet,-the storm rages. Gri. I fear, it may increase; besides, your visitors may not like my company; good night. Enter COUNT FREDERICK FRIBERG, followed by KARL-he stops suddenly, and eyes the Miller, as if recollecting him-Grindoff appears to avoid his scrutiny. Count. Your kindness is well timed; we might have perished; accept my thanks. (Aside.) I should know that face. Gri. To me your thanks are not due. Gri. This house is Kelmar's. [Karl places the portmanteau on the table Gri. What should alarm you there? Karl. What should alarm me there? come, that's a good one. Why, first, I lost my way; trying to find that, I lost the horses; then I tumbled into a quagmire, and nearly lost my life. Gri. Psha! this is of no consequence. Kar. Isn't it? I have endured more hardships since morning than a knight-errant. My head's broken, my body's bruised, and my joints are dislocated. I hav'nt three square inches about me but what are scarified with briers and brambles; and, above all, I have not tasted a morsel of food since sunrise. Egad! instead of my making a meal of anything, I've been in constant expectation of the wolves making a meal of me. Gri. Is this all? Karl. Well! yes, it was well indeed, for after a struggle they made off; one of them left his sting behind, though; look, here's a poker to stir up a (Showing a poniard.) man's courage with! Gri. A poniard! Karl. Ay. Gri. (Snatching at it.) Give it me. Karl. (Refusing the dagger.) For what? It's lawful spoil-didn't I win it in battle? No! I'll keep it as a trophy of my victory. [During this time, Kelmar and Claudine have taken and hung up the Count's cloak, handed him a chair, and are conversing. Gri. It will be safer in my possession: it may lead to a discovery of him who wore it-and Karl. It may-you are right-therefore I'll deliver it into the hands of Count Frederick: he'll soon ferret the rascals out; set a reward on their heads-five thousand crowns, dead or alive! that's the way to manoeuvre 'em. Gri. Indeed! humph! Karl. Humph! don't half like that chap-never saw such a ferocious black muzzle in my life-that miller's a rogue in grain. Count. (Advancing.) Nay, nay, speak of it no more. I will not take an old man's bed to ease my youthful limbs; I have slept soundly on a ruder couch-and that chair shall be my resting-place. Cla. The miller's man, Riber, perhaps can entertain his excellency better;-he keeps the Flask here, on the hill, sir. Gri. His house contains but one bed. |