Hugo shall be warned, and thou alone shalt fall.
[_She makes signs from the window and vanishes._
Rod. [_awakes and rises_]. Ah, what fearful dreams are mine!
Theresa--Louis--still they haunt me! Whither shall I turn? Who comes?
[_Enter_ Gaspard.] Art thou another phantom sent to torture me?
Gasp. 'Tis I, leader of the king's brave guards, sent hither to arrest
thee, my lord; for thou art charged with murder.
Rod. Who dares to cast so foul a stain on Count Rodolpho's name.
Gasp. My lord, yield thyself. The king may show thee mercy yet--
Rod. I will yield, and prove my innocence, and clear mine honor to the
king. Reach me my cloak yonder, and I am ready.
[Gaspard _turns to seek the cloak._ Rodolpho _leaps from the
window and disappears._
Gasp. Ha! he hath escaped,--curses on my carelessness! [_Rushes to the
window._] Ho, there! surround the castle, the prisoner hath fled! We'll
have him yet, the blood-stained villain!
[_Exit_ Gaspard. _Shouts and clashing of swords heard._
CURTAIN.
SCENE ELEVENTH.
[Norna's _cave._
Leonore _and_ _Adrian_.]
Adrian. Dear lady, can I do nought to while away the lonely hours? Shall
I go forth and bring thee flowers, or seek thy home and bear away thy
bird, thy lute, or aught that may beguile thy solitude? It grieves me
that I can do so little for thee.
Leonore. Nay, 'tis I should grieve that I can find no way to show my
gratitude to thee, my brave deliverer. But wilt thou not tell me who
thou art? I would fain know to whom I owe my life and liberty.
Adrian. Nay, that I may not tell thee. I have sworn a solemn vow, and
till that is fulfilled I may not cast aside this sorrowful disguise.
Meanwhile, thou mayst call me Adrian. Wilt thou pardon and trust me
still?
Leonore. Canst thou doubt my faith in thee? Thou and old Norna are the
only friends now left to poor Leonore. I put my whole heart's trust in
thee. But if thou canst not tell me of thyself, wilt tell me why thou
hast done so much for me, a friendless maiden?
Adrian. I fear it will cause thee sorrow, lady; and thou hast grief
enough to bear.
Leonore. Do not fear. I would so gladly know--
Adrian. Forgive me if I make thee weep: I had a friend,--most dear to
me. He loved a gentle lady, but ere he could tell her this, he died, and
bid me vow to watch above her whom he loved, and guard her with my life.
I took the vow: that lady was thyself, that friend Count Louis.
Leonore. Ah, Louis! Louis! that heart thou feared to ask is buried with
thee.
Adrian. Thou didst love him, lady?
Leonore. Love him? Most gladly would I lie down within my grave
tonight, could I but call him back to life again.
Adrian. Grieve not; thou hast one friend who cannot change,--one who
through joy and sorrow will find his truest happiness in serving thee.
Hist! I hear a step: I will see who comes.
[_Exit_ Adrian.
Leonore. Kind, watchful friend, how truly do I trust thee!
[_Re-enter_ Adrian.
Adrian. Conceal thyself, dear lady, with all speed. 'Tis Count Rodolpho.
Let me lead thee to the inner cave,--there thou wilt be safe.
[_They retire within; noise heard without. Enter_ Rodolpho.
Rod. At last I am safe. Old Norna will conceal me till I can find means
to leave the land. Ha!--voices within there. Ho, there! old wizard,
hither! I have need of thee!
[_Enter_ Adrian.
Adrian. What wouldst thou?
Rod. Nought. Get thee hence! I seek old Norna.
Adrian. Thou canst not see her; she is not here.
Rod. Not here? 'Tis false,--I heard a woman's voice within there. Let me
pass!
Adrian. 'Tis not old Norna, and thou canst not pass.
Rod. Ah, then, who might it be, my most mysterious sir?
Adrian. The Lady Leonore.
Rod. Ha!--how came she hither? By my soul, thou liest! Stand back and
let me go. She is mine!
Adrian. Thou canst only enter here above my lifeless body. Leonore is
here, and I am her protector and thy deadliest foe. 'Tis for thee to
yield and leave this cell.
Rod. No more of this,--thou hast escaped me once. Draw and defend
thyself, if thou hast courage to meet a brave man's sword!
Adrian. But for Leonore I would not stoop so low, or stain my sword; but
for her sake I'll dare all, and fight thee to the last.
[_They fight their way out. Enter_ Rodolpho.
Rod. At length fate smiles upon me. I am the victor,--and now for
Leonore! All danger is forgotten in the joy of winning my revenge on
this proud girl! Thou art mine at last, Leonore, and mine forever!
[_Rushes towards the inner cave. Spirit of_ Theresa _rises._] There 'tis
again! I will not fly,--I do defy it! [_Attempts to pass. Spirit touches
him; he drops his sword and rushes wildly away._] 'Tis vain: I
cannot--dare not pass. It comes, it follows me. Whither shall I fly?
[_Exit. Enter_ Adrian _wounded._
Adrian. I have saved her once again,--but oh, this deathlike faintness
stealing o'er me robs me of my strength. Thou art safe, Leonore, and I
am content. [_Falls fainting._]
[_Enter_ Leonore.
Leonore. They are gone. Ah, what has chanced? I heard his voice, and now
'tis still as death. Where is my friend? God grant he be not hurt! I'll
venture forth and seek him [_sees_ Adrian _unconscious before her_]. Oh,
what is this? Adrian, kind friend, dost thou not hear me? There is blood
upon his hand! Can he be dead? No, no! he breathes, he moves; this mask,
I will remove it,--surely he will forgive.
[_Attempts to unmask him; he prevents her._
Adrian [_reviving_]. Nay, nay; it must not be. I am better now. The blow
but stunned me,--it will pass away. And thou art safe?
Leonore. I feared not for myself, but thee. Come, rest thee here, thy
wound is bleeding; let me bind it with my kerchief, and bring thee wine.
Let me serve thee who hath done so much for me. Art better now! Can I do
aught else for thee?
Adrian. No more, dear lady. Think not of me, and listen while I tell
thee of the dangers that surround thee. Count Rodolpho knows thou art
here, and may return with men and arms to force thee hence. My single
arm could then avail not, though I would gladly die for thee. Where then
can I lead thee,--no place can be too distant, no task too hard for him
whose joy it is to serve thee.
Leonore. Alas! I know not. I dare not seek my home while Count Rodolpho
is my foe; my servants would be bribed,--they would betray me, and thou
wouldst not be there to save. Adrian, I have no friend but thee. Oh,
pity and protect me!
Adrian. Most gladly will I, dearest lady. Thou canst never know the joy
thy confidence hath wakened in my heart. I will save and guard thee with
my life. I will guide thee to a peaceful home where no danger can
approach, and only friends surround thee. Thy Louis dwelt there once,
and safely mayst thou rest till danger shall be past. Will this please
thee?
Leonore. Oh, Adrian, thou kind, true friend, how can I tell my
gratitude, and where find truer rest than in _his_ home, where gentle
memories of him will lighten grief. Then take me there, and I will prove
my gratitude by woman's fondest friendship, and my life-long trust.
Adrian. Thanks, dear lady. I need no other recompense than the joy 'tis
in my power to give thee. I will watch faithfully above thee, and when
thou needest me no more, I'll leave thee to the happiness thy gentle
heart so well deserves. Now rest, while I seek out old Norna, and
prepare all for our flight. The way we have to tread is long and weary.
Rest thee, dear lady.
Leonore. Adieu, dear friend. I will await thee ready for our pilgrimage,
and think not I shall fail or falter, though the path be long, and
dangers gather round us. I shall not fear, for thou wilt be there. God
bless thee, Adrian.
[_Tableau._
CURTAIN.
SCENE TWELFTH.
[_Room in the castle of_ Louis.
Leonore _singing to her lute._]
The weary bird mid stormy skies,
Flies home to her quiet nest,
And 'mid the faithful ones she loves,
Finds shelter and sweet rest.
And thou, my heart, like to tired bird,
Hath found a peaceful home,
Where love's soft sunlight gently falls,
And sorrow cannot come.
Leonore. 'Tis strange that I can sing, but in this peaceful home my
sorrow seems to change to deep and quiet joy. Louis seems ever near, and
Adrian's silent acts of tenderness beguile my solitary hours, and daily
grow more dear to me. He guards me day and night, seeking to meet my
slightest wish, and gather round me all I hold most dear. [_Enter a_
Page.] Angelo, what wouldst thou?
Page. My master bid me bring these flowers and crave thee to accept them
lady.
Leonore. Bear him my thanks, and tell him that his gift is truly
welcome. [_Exit_ Page.] These are the blossoms he was gathering but now
upon the balcony; he hath sent the sweetest and the fairest [_a letter
falls from the nosegay_]. But what is here? He hath never sent me aught
like this before [_opens and reads the letter_].
Dearest Lady,--Wilt thou pardon the bold words I here address
to thee, and forgive me if I grieve one on whom I would bestow
only the truest joy. In giving peace to thy heart I have lost
mine own. I was thy guide and comforter, and soon, unknown to
thee, thy lover. I love thee, Leonore, fondly and truly; and
here I ask, wilt thou accept the offering of a heart that will
forever cherish thee. If thou canst grant this blessed boon,
fling from the casement the white rose I send thee; but if thou
canst not accept my love, forgive me for avowing it, and drop
the cypress bough I have twined about the rose. I will not pain
thee to refuse in words,--the mournful token is enough. Ask
thine own heart if thou, who hast loved Louis, can feel aught
save friendship for the unknown, nameless stranger, who through
life and death is ever
Thy loving Adrian.
Oh, how shall I reply to this,--how blight a love so tender and so true?
I have longed to show my gratitude, to prove how I have revered this
noble friend. The hour has come when I may make his happiness, and prove
my trust. And yet my heart belongs to Louis, and I cannot love another.
Adrian was his friend; he loved him, and confided me to him. Nobly hath
he fulfilled that trust, and where could I find a truer friend than he
who hath saved me from danger and from death, and now gives me the power
to gladden and to bless his life. Adrian, if thou wilt accept a sister's
love and friendship, they shall be thine. Louis, forgive me if I wrong
thee; for though I yield my hand, my heart is thine forever. This rose,
Adrian, to thee; this mournful cypress shall be mine in memory of my
blighted hopes [_goes to the_ _window and looks out_]. See! he is
waiting yonder by the fountain for the token that shall bring him joy or
sorrow. Thou noble friend, thy brave, true heart shall grieve no longer,
for thus will Leonore repay the debt of gratitude she owes thee [_flings
the rose from the window_]. He hath placed it in his bosom, and is
coming hither to pour forth his thanks for the poor gift bestowed. I
will tell him all, and if he will accept, then I am his.
[_Enter_ Adrian _with the rose_.
Adrian. Dear lady, how can I tell thee the joy thou hast given me. This
blessed flower from thy dear hand hath told thy pardon and consent. Oh,
Leonore, canst thou love a nameless stranger who is so unworthy the
great boon thou givest.
Leonore. Listen, Adrian, ere thou dost thank me for a divided heart.
Thou hast been told my love for Louis; he was thy friend, and well thou
knowest how true and tender was the heart he gave me. He hath gone, and
with him rests my first deep love. Thou art my only friend and my
protector; thou hast won my gratitude and warmest friendship. I can
offer thee a sister's pure affection,--my hand is thine; and here I
pledge thee that as thou hast watched o'er me, so now thy happiness
shall be my care, thy love my pride and joy. Here is my hand,--wilt thou
accept it, Adrian?
Adrian. I will. I would not seek to banish from thy heart the silent
love thou bearest Louis. I am content if thou wilt trust me with thy
happiness, and give me the sweet right to guide and guard thee through
the pilgrimage of life. God bless thee, dearest.
Leonore. Dear Adrian, can I do nought for thee? I have now won the right
to cheer thy sorrows. Have faith in thy Leonore.
Adrian. Thou hast a right to know all, and ere long thou shalt. My
mysterious vow will now soon be fulfilled, and then no doubt shall part
us. Thou hast placed thy trust in me, and I have not betrayed it, and
now I ask a greater boon of thy confiding heart. Wilt thou consent to
wed me ere I cast aside this mask forever? Believe me, thou wilt not
regret it,--'tis part of my vow; one last trial, and I will prove to
thee thou didst not trust in vain. Forgive if I have asked too much.
Nay, thou canst not grant so strange a boon.
Leonore. I can--I will. I did but pause, for it seemed strange thou
couldst not let me look upon thy face. But think not that I fear to
grant thy wish. Thy heart is pure and noble, and that thou canst not
mask. As I trusted thee through my despair, so now I trust thee in my
joy. Canst thou ask more, dear friend?
Adrian. Ever trust me thus! Ah, Leonore, how can I repay thee? My love,
my life, are all I can give thee for the blessed gift thou hast
bestowed. A time will come when all this mystery shall cease and we
shall part no more. Now must I leave thee, dearest. Farewell! Soon will
I return.
[_Exit_ Adrian.
Leonore. I will strive to be a true and loving wife to thee, dear
Adrian; for I have won a faithful friend in thee forever.
CURTAIN.
SCENE THIRTEENTH.
[_Hall in the castle of_ Count Louis.
_Enter_ Leonore, _in bridal robes_.]
Leonore. At length the hour hath come, when I shall look upon the face
of him whom I this day have sworn to love and honor as a wife. I have,
perchance, been rash in wedding one I know not, but will not cast a
doubt on him who hath proved the noble heart that beats within his
breast. I am his, and come what may, the vows I have this day made shall
be unbroken. Ah, he comes; and now shall I gaze upon my husband's face!
[_Enter_ Adrian.
Adrian. Dearest, fear not. Thou wilt not trust me less when thou hast
looked upon the face so long concealed. My vow is ended, thou art won.
Thy hand is mine; Leonore, I claim thy heart.
[_Unmasks._ Leonore _screams and falls upon his breast_.
Leonore. Louis, Louis! 'Tis a blessed dream!
Louis. No dream, my Leonore; it is thy living Louis who hath watched
above thee, and now claims thee for his own. Ah, dearest, I have tried
thee too hardly,--pardon me!
Leonore. Oh, Louis, husband, I have nought to pardon; my life, my
liberty, my happiness,--all, all, I owe to thee. How shall I repay thee?
[_Weeps upon his bosom._]
Louis. By banishing these tears, dear love, and smiling on me as you
used to do. Here, love, sit beside me while I tell thee my most strange
tale, and then no longer shalt thou wonder. Art happy now thy Adrian
hath flung by his mask?
Leonore. Happy! What deeper joy can I desire than that of seeing thy
dear face once more? But tell me, Louis, how couldst thou dwell so long
beside me and not cheer my bitter sorrow when I grieved for thee.
Louis. Ah, Leonore, thou wouldst not reproach me, didst thou know how
hard I struggled with my heart, lest I should by some tender word, some
fond caress, betray myself when thou didst grieve for me.
Leonore. Why didst thou fear to tell thy Leonore? She would have aided
and consoled thee. Why didst thou let me pine in sorrow at thy side,
when but a word had filled my heart with joy?
Louis. Dearest, I dared not. Thou knowest I was banished by the hate of
that fiend Rodolpho. I had a fair and gentle sister, whom he wed, and
after cruelty and coldness that I dread to think of now, he murdered
her. I sought old Norna's aid. She promised it, and well hath kept her
word. When Count Rodolpho's ruffian left me dying in the forest, she
saved, and brought me back to life. She bade me take a solemn vow not to
betray myself, and to aid her in her vengeance on the murderer of
Theresa. Nor could I own my name and rank, lest it should reach the king
who had banished me. The vow I took, and have fulfilled.
Leonore. And is there no danger now? Art thou safe, dear Louis, from the
Count?
Louis. Fear not, my love. He will never harm us more; his crimes are
known. The king hath pardoned me. I have won thee back. He is an
outcast, and old Norna's spells have well-nigh driven him mad. My
sister, thou art well avenged! Alas! alas! would I could have saved, and
led thee hither to this happy home.
Leonore. Ah, grieve not, Louis; she is happy now, and thy Leonore will
strive to fill her place. Hast thou told me all?
Louis. Nay, love. Thou knowest how I watched above thee, but thou canst
never know the joy thy faithful love for one thou mourned as dead hath
brought me. I longed to cast aside the dark disguise I had vowed to
wear, but dared not while Rodolpho was at liberty. Now all is safe. I
have tried thy love, and found it true. Oh, may I prove most worthy of
it, dearest.
Leonore. Louis, how can I love too faithfully the friend who, 'mid his
own grief and danger, loved and guarded me. I trusted thee as Adrian; as
Louis I shall love thee until death.
Louis. And I shall prize most tenderly the faithful heart that trusted
me through doubt and mystery. Now life is bright and beautiful before
us, and may you never sorrow that thou gav'st thy heart to Louis, and
thy hand to Adrian the "Black Mask."
CURTAIN.
SCENE FOURTEENTH.
[_A dungeon cell._
Rodolpho _chained, asleep.
Enter_ Norna.]
Norna. Thy fate is sealed, thy course is run,
And Norna's work is well-nigh done.
[_Vanishes. Enter_ Hugo.
Rod. [_awaking_]. Mine eyes are bewildered by the forms I have looked
upon in sleep. Methought old Norna stood beside me, whispering evil
spells, calling fearful phantoms to bear me hence.
Hugo [_coming forward_]. Thy evil conscience gives thee little rest, my
lord.
Rod. [_starting up_]. Who is there? Stand back! I'll sell my life most
dearly. Ah, 'tis no dream,--I am fettered! Where is my sword?
Hugo. In my safe keeping, Count Rodolpho, lest in thy rage thou may'st
be tempted to add another murder to thy list of sins. [Rodolpho _sinks
down in despair._] Didst think thou couldst escape? Ah, no; although
most swift of foot and secret, Hugo hath watched and followed thee. I
swore to win both gold and vengeance. The king hath offered high reward
for thy poor head, and it is mine. Methinks it may cheer your solitude
my lord, so I came hither on my way to bear thy death warrant to the
captain of the guard. What wilt thou give for this? Hark ye! were this
destroyed, thou might'st escape ere another were prepared. How dost thou
like the plot?
Rod. And wilt thou save me, Hugo? Give me not up to the king! I'll be
thy slave. All I possess is thine. I'll give thee countless gold. Ah,
pity, and save me, Hugo!
Hugo. Ha, ha! I did but jest. Thinkest thou I could forego the joy of
seeing thy proud head laid low? Where was thy countless gold when I did
ask it of thee? No, no; thou canst not tempt me to forget my vengeance.
'Tis Hugo's turn to play the master now. Mayst thou rest well, and so,
good even, my lord.
[_Exit_ Hugo.
Rod. Thus end my hopes of freedom. My life is drawing to a close, and
all my sins seem rising up before me. The forms of my murdered victims
flit before me, and their dying words ring in mine ears,--Leonore
praying for mercy at my feet; old Norna whispering curses on my soul.
How am I haunted and betrayed! Oh, fool, fool that I have been! My
pride, my passion, all end in this! Hated, friendless, and alone, the
proud Count Rodolpho dies a felon's death. 'Tis just, 'tis just!
[_Enter_ Louis _masked._] What's that? Who spoke? Ah, 'tis mine unknown
foe. What wouldst thou here?
Louis. Thou didst bribe one Hugo to murder the young Count Louis, whom
thou didst hate. He did thy bidding, and thy victim fell; but Norna
saved, and healed his wounds. She told him of his murdered sister's
fate, and he hath joined her in her work of vengeance, and foiled thee
in thy sinful plots. I saved Leonore, and guarded her till I had won her
heart and hand, and in her love find solace for the sorrow thou hast
caused. Dost doubt the tale? Look on thine unknown foe, and find it true
[_unmasks_].
Rod. Louis, whom I hated, and would kill,--thou here, thou husband of
Leonore, happy and beloved! It is too much, too much! If thou lovest
life, depart. I'm going mad: I see wild phantoms whirling round me,
voices whispering fearful words within mine ears. Touch me not,--there
is blood upon my hands! Will this dream last forever?
Louis. May Heaven pity thee! Theresa, thou art avenged.
[_Exit_ Louis.
Rod. Ah, these are fearful memories for a dying hour! [_Casts himself
upon the floor._]
[_Enter_ Norna.
Norna. Sinful man, didst think thy death-bed could be peaceful? As they
have haunted thee in life, so shall spirits darken thy last hour. _I_
bore thy murdered wife to a quiet grave, and raised a spirit to affright
and haunt thee to thy death. _I_ freed the Lady Leonore; _I_ mocked and
haunted thee in palace, wood, and cell; _I_ warned Hugo, and betrayed
thee to his power; and _I_ brought down this awful doom upon thee. As
thou didst refuse all mercy to thy victims, so shall mercy be denied to
thee. Remorse and dark despair shall wring thy heart, and thou shalt die
unblessed, unpitied, unforgiven. Thy victims are avenged, and Norna's
work is done.
[Norna _vanishes._
Rod. Ha! ha! 'tis gone,--yet stay, 'tis Louis' ghost! How darkly his
eyes shine on me! See, see,--the demons gather round me! How fast they
come! Old Norna is there, muttering her spells. Let me go free! Unbind
these chains! Hugo, Louis, Leonore, Theresa,--thou art avenged!
[_Falls dead._ Norna _glides in and stands beside him._
[_Tableau._
CURTAIN.
CAPTIVE OF CASTILE;
OR,
THE MOORISH MAIDEN'S VOW.
CHARACTERS.
Bernardo . . . . . . _Lord of Castile._
Ernest L'Estrange . . . . _An English Lord._
Hernando . . . . . . _A Priest._
Selim . . . . . . . _A Slave._
Zara . . . . . . . _Daughter to Bernardo._
CAPTIVE OF CASTILE;
OR
THE MOORISH MAIDEN'S VOW.
SCENE FIRST.
[_A thick wood. Storm coming on.
Enter_ Ernest.]
Ernest. This summer sky, darkened by storm, is a fit emblem of my life.
O happy England, why did I leave thee; why let dreams of fame and honor
win me from a home, to wander now a lonely and bewildered fugitive? But
why do I repine? Life, health, and a brave heart yet are mine; and 'mid
all my peril, God may send some joy to cheer me on to happiness and
honor. Hist! a footstep. 'Tis a light one, but a Moorish foe steals
like a serpent on his prey. I'll hide me here, and if need be I'll sell
my life as a brave man should [_conceals himself among the trees_].
[_Enter_ Zara, _weeping._
Zara. Heaven shield me! Whither shall I turn? Alone in this wild forest,
where may I find a friend to help. The dark storm gathers fast, and I am
shelterless. The fierce Spaniard may be wandering nigh, and I dare not
call for aid. Mistress of a hundred slaves, here must I perish for one
to lead me. Father, the faint heart turns to thee when earthly help is
past; hear and succor thy poor child now, who puts her trust in thee.
Ernest [_coming forward_]. Lady, thy prayer is heard. God hath not sent
me here in vain. How may I best serve thee?
Zara. Gentle stranger, pity and protect a hapless maid who puts her
faith in thee. Guide me from this wild wood, and all the thanks a
grateful heart can give are thine.
Ernest. I ask no higher honor than to shield so fair a flower from the
storm, or from rude hands that may harm it. But how chanced it, lady,
that thou art wandering thus unattended? 'Tis unsafe for youth and
beauty while the Spanish army is so near.
Zara. It was a foolish fancy led me hither, and dearly am I punished.
Journeying from a distant convent to my father's home, while my
attendants rested by a spring I wandered through the wood, unthinking of
the danger, till turning to retrace my steps, I found myself lost and
alone. I feared to call, and but for thee, kind stranger, might have
never seen my home again. Ask not my name, but tell me thine, that in my
prayers I may remember one who has so aided me.
Ernest. It were uncourteous to refuse thy bidding, lady. Ernest
L'Estrange is the name now honored by the poor service I may do thee. In
the Spanish army I came hither, and fear I have seen the last of home
or friends. The Moors now seek my life, and ere I can rejoin my ranks, I
may be a slave. But the storm draws nearer. Let me lead thee to some
shelter, lady.
Zara. Methinks I see a glimmer yonder. Let us seek it, for with thee I
fear no longer. I can only give thee thanks, most noble stranger; yet a
day may come when she for whom thou dost now risk thy life may find a
fit return, worthy thy courtesy to one so helpless and forlorn.