The Complete Poetical Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Chapter 329 : _Sarolta._ Yet, yet for one brief moment [_Struggling._ Unhand me, I conjure you.[_She

_Sarolta._ Yet, yet for one brief moment [_Struggling._ Unhand me, I conjure you.

[_She throws him off, and rushes towards a toilet.

EMERICK follows, and as she takes a dagger, he grasps it in her hand._

_Emerick._ Ha! Ha! a dagger; 290 A seemly ornament for a lady's casket!

'Tis held, devotion is akin to love, But yours is tragic! Love in war! It charms me, And makes your beauty worth a king's embraces!

[_During this speech BETHLEN enters armed._

_Bethlen._ Ruffian, forbear! Turn, turn and front my sword! 295

_Emerick._ Pis.h.!.+ who is this?

_Sarolta._ O sleepless eye of Heaven!

A blest, a blessed spirit! Whence camest thou?

May I still call thee Bethlen?

_Bethlen._ Ever, lady, Your faithful soldier!

_Emerick._ Insolent slave! Depart Know'st thou not me?

_Bethlen._ I know thou art a villain 300 And coward! That thy devilish purpose marks thee!

What else, this lady must instruct my sword!

_Sarolta._ Monster, retire! O touch him not, thou blest one!

This is the hour that fiends and d.a.m.ned spirits Do walk the earth, and take what form they list! 305 Yon devil hath a.s.sumed a king's!

_Bethlen._ Usurped it!

_Emerick._ The king will play the devil with thee indeed!

But that I mean to hear thee howl on the rack, I would debase this sword, and lay thee prostrate At this thy paramour's feet; then drag her forth 310 Stained with adulterous blood, and-- --mark you, traitress!

Strumpeted first, then turned adrift to beggary!

Thou prayed'st for't too.

_Sarolta._ Thou art so fiendish wicked, That in thy blasphemies I scarce hear thy threats!

_Bethlen._ Lady, be calm! fear not this king of the buskin! 315 A king? Oh laughter! A king Bajazet!

That from some vagrant actor's tiring-room, Hath stolen at once his speech and crown!

_Emerick._ Ah! treason!

Thou hast been lessoned and tricked up for this!

As surely as the wax on thy death-warrant 320 Shall take the impression of this royal signet, So plain thy face hath ta'en the mask of rebel!

[_BETHLEN seizes EMERICK'S hand and eagerly observes the signet._

_Bethlen._ It must be so! 'Tis e'en the counterpart!

But with a foul usurping cypher on it!

The light hath flashed from Heaven, and I must follow it! 325 O curst usurper! O thou brother-murderer!

That mad'st a star-bright queen a fugitive widow!

Who fill'st the land with curses, being thyself All curses in one tyrant! see and tremble!

This is Kiuprili's sword that now hangs o'er thee! 330 Kiuprili's blasting curse, that from its point Shoots lightnings at thee. Hark! in Andreas' name, Heir of his vengeance, h.e.l.l-hound! I defy thee.

[_They fight, and just as EMERICK is disarmed, in rush CASIMIR, OLD BATHORY, and_ Attendants. _CASIMIR runs in between the combatants, and parts them; in the struggle BETHLEN'S sword is thrown down._

_Casimir._ The king! disarmed too by a stranger! Speak!

What may this mean?

_Emerick._ Deceived, dishonored lord! 335 Ask thou yon fair adultress! She will tell thee A tale, which would'st thou be both dupe and traitor, Thou wilt believe against thy friend and sovereign!

Thou art present now, and a friend's duty ceases: To thine own justice leave I thine own wrongs. 340 Of half thy vengeance I perforce must rob thee, For that the sovereign claims. To thy allegiance I now commit this traitor and a.s.sa.s.sin.

[_Then to the_ Attendants.

Hence with him to the dungeon! and to-morrow, Ere the sun rises,--Hark! your heads or his! 345

_Bethlen._ Can h.e.l.l work miracles to mock Heaven's justice?

_Emerick._ Who speaks to him dies! The traitor that has menaced His king, must not pollute the breathing air, Even with a word!

_Casimir (to Bathory)._ Hence with him to the dungeon!

[_Exit BETHLEN, hurried off by BATHORY and_ Attendants.

_Emerick._ We hunt to-morrow in your upland forest: 350 Thou (_to Casimir_) wilt attend us: and wilt then explain This sudden and most fortunate arrival.

[_Exit EMERICK; Manent CASIMIR and SAROLTA._

_Sarolta._ My lord! my husband! look whose sword lies yonder!

It is Kiuprili's, Casimir; 'tis thy father's!

And wielded by a stripling's arm, it baffled, 355 Yea, fell like Heaven's own lightnings on that Tarquin.

_Casimir._ Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+

I had detected ere I left the city The tyrant's curst intent. Lewd, d.a.m.ned ingrate!

For him did I bring down a father's curse! 360 Swift, swift must be our means! To-morrow's sun Sets on his fate or mine! O blest Sarolta!

No other prayer, late penitent, dare I offer, But that thy spotless virtues may prevail O'er Casimir's crimes, and dread Kiuprili's curse! 365

[_Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

[5] _I_ 1817, 1828, 1829.

[34] _common-talk_ 1817, 1828, 1829.

[35] _My_ 1817, 1828, 1829.

[37-9] '_Was not the . . . Majesty._' 1817, 1828, 1829.