Pray don't believe them, madam! This way! This What needs your presence? BATH. What! Do you think I'll suffer my brave boy To be slandered by a set of coward-ruffians, And leave it to their malice,-yes, mere malice!— SAROL. [LASKA and Servants bow to LADY SAROLTA. Laska! What may this mean? LAS. (pompously, as commencing a set speech.) Madam! and may it please your ladyship! This old man's son, by name, Bethlen Bathory, Stands charged, on weighty evidence, that he, On yester-eve, being his lordship's birth-day, Did traitorously defame Lord Casimir: The lord high steward of the realm, moreoverSAROL. Be brief! We know his titles! LAS. And moreover Raved like a traitor at our liege King Emerick. SAROL. (to the servants who offer to speak.) Where is the young man thus accused? BATH But if no ill betide him on the mountains, He will not long be absent! SAROL. You I know not: Thou art his father? BATH. None ever with more reason prized a son; Yet I hate falsehood more than I love him. But more than one, now in my lady's presence, Witness'd the affray, besides these men of malice; And if I swerve from truth BATH. My tale is brief. During our festive dance, Your servants, the accusers of my son, Offered gross insults, in unmanly sort, To our village maidens. He, (could he do less?) SAROL. Old man! you talk Too bluntly! Did your son owe no respect To the livery of our house? BATH. Even such respect As the sheep's skin should gain for the hot wolf That hath began to worry the poor lambs! LAS. Old insolent ruffian! GLY. Pardon! pardon, madam! I saw the whole affray. The good old man Means no offence, sweet lady!-You, yourself, Laska! know well, that these men were the ruffians! Shame on you! SAROL. (speaks with affected anger.) What! Glycine? Go, retire! [Exit GLYCINE mournfully. Be it then that these men faulted. Yet yourself, Or better still belike the maidens' parents, Might have complained to us. Was ever access Denied you? Or free audience? Or are we Weak and unfit to punish our own servants? BATH. So then! So then! Heaven grant an old man patience! And must the gard❜ner leave his seedling plants, Leave his young roses to the rooting swine While he goes ask their master, if perchance His leisure serve to scourge them from their ravage? LASK. HO! Take the rude clown from your lady's presence! I will report her further will! SAROL. Wait then, Till thou hast learnt it! Fervent good old man! Forgive me that, to try thee, I put on A face of sterness, alien to my meaning! [Then speaks to the Servants. Hence! leave my presence! and you Laska! mark me! Those rioters are no longer of my household! If we but shake a dew-drop from a rose To a maiden's eye familiarized to licence.- LASK. (aside) Yes now 'tis coming!, SAROL. Brutal aggressors first, then baffled dastards, That they have sought to piece out their revenge With a tale of words lur'd from the lips of anger Stamps them most dangerous; and till I want Fit means for wicked ends, we shall not need Their services. Discharge them! You, Bathory! Are henceforth of my household! I shall place you Near my own person! When your son returns Present him to us! BATHO. Ha! what strangers* here? What business have they in an old man's eye? I can not-must not-let you be deceived. I have yet another tale, but (then to Sarolta aside.) not for all ears! * Refers to the tear, which he feels starting in his eye. The following line was borrowed unconsciously from Mr. Wordsworth's Excursion. |