USURPATION ENDED;

OR,

SHE COMES AGAIN.

ACT I.-SCENE I.

A Mountainous Country. BATHORY'S Dwelling at the end of the Stage. Enter LADY SAROLTA and GLYCINE.

GLYCINE.

WELL then! Our round of charity is finished.
Rest, Madam! You breathe quick.

What tired, Glycine?

SAROLTA.

No delicate court-dame, but a mountaineer
By choice no less than birth, I gladly use
The good strength nature gave me.

It needs must be a duty doubly sweet

To heal the few we can. Well! let us rest.

GLYCINE.

There? [Pointing to Bathory's dwelling. Surolta answering, points to where she then stands.

SAROLTA.

Here! For on this spot Lord Casimir
Took his last leave. On yonder mountain-ridge
I lost the misty image which so long
Lingered, or seemed at least to linger on it.
GLYCINE.

And what if even now, on that same ridge,
A speck should rise, and still enlarging, lengthening,
As it clomb downwards, shape itself at last

To a numerous cavalcade, and spurring foremost,
Who but Sarolta's own dear lord returned

From his high embassy?

SAROLTA.

Thou hast hit my thought!

All the long day, from yester-morn to evening,
The restless hope fluttered about my heart.
Oh we are querulous creatures! Little less
Than all things can suffice to make us happy;
And little more than nothing is enough
To discontent us.-Were he come, then should I
Repine he had not arrived just one day earlier

To keep his birth-day here, in his own birth-place.
GLYCINE.

But our best sports belike, and gay processions Would to my lord have seemed but work-day sights Compared with those the royal court affords.

SAROLTA.

I have small wish to see them. A spring morning With its wild gladsome minstrelsy of birds,

And its bright jewelry of flowers and dew-drops (Each orbed drop an orb of glory in it)

Would put them all in eclipse. This sweet retirement
Lord Casimir's wish alone would have made sacred:
But in good truth, his loving jealousy

Did but command, what I had else entreated.
GLYCINE.

And yet had I been born Lady Sarolta,
Been wedded to the noblest of the realm,

So beautiful besides, and yet so stately

SAROLTA.

Hush! Innocent flatterer!

GLYCINE.

Nay! to my poor fancy

The royal court would seem an earthly heaven,

Made for such stars to shine in, and be gracious.
SAROLTA.

So doth the ignorant distance still delude us!

Thy fancied heaven, dear girl, like that above thee,
In its mere self a cold, drear, colourless void,
Seen from below and in the large, becomes

The bright blue ether, and the seat of gods!

Well! but this broil that scared you from the dance? And was not Laska there: he, your betrothed?

GLYCINE.

Yes, madam! he was there. So was the maypole, For we danced round it.

My own dear lady wished it! 'twas you asked me!

SAROLTA.

Yes, at my lord's request, but never wished,
My poor affectionate girl, to see thee wretched.
Thou knowest not yet the duties of a wife.
GLYCINE.

Oh, yes! It is a wife's chief duty, madam!
To stand in awe of her husband, and obey him,
And, I am sure, I never shall see Laska

But I shall tremble.

SAROLTA.

Not with fear, I think,

For you still mock him. Bring a seat from the cot-
tage. [Exit Glycine into the cottage, Sarolta
continues her speech looking after her.
Something above thy rank there hangs about thee,
And in thy countenance, thy voice, and motion,
Yea, e'en in thy simplicity, Glycine,

A fine and feminine grace, that makes me feel
More as a mother than a mistress to thee!
Thou art a soldier's orphan! that-the courage,
Which rising in thine eye, seems oft to give
A new soul to its gentleness, doth prove thee!
Thou art sprung too of no ignoble blood,
Or there's no faith in instinct !

[angry voices and clamour within, re-enter Glycine. GLYCINE.

Oh, madam! there's a party of your servants,
And my lord's steward, Laska, at their head,
Have come to search for old Bathory's son,

Bethlen, that brave young man! 'twas he, my lady,
That took our parts, and beat off the intruders,
And in mere spite and malice, now they charge him
With bad words of Lord Casimir and the king.

Pray don't believe them, madam! This way! This

way!

Lady Sarolta's here

SAROLTA.

[calling without,

Be calm, Glycine.