us to destruction.We triumphed over these. On the same scaffold 185
Where the last Louis pour’d his guilty blood,
Fell Brissot’s head, the womb of darksome treasons,
And Orleans, villain kinsman of the Capet,
And Hébert’s atheist crew, whose maddening hand
Hurl’d down the altars of the living God, 190
With all the infidel’s intolerance.
The last worst traitor triumphed — triumph’d long,
Secur’d by matchless villainy — by turns
Defending and deserting each accomplice
As interest prompted. In the goodly soil 195
Of Freedom, the foul tree of treason struck
Its deep-fix’d roots, and dropt the dews of death
On all who slumber’d in its specious shade.
He wove the web of treachery. He caught
The listening crowd by his wild eloquence, 200
His cool ferocity that persuaded murder,
Even whilst it spake of mercy! — never, never
Shall this regenerated country wear
The despot yoke. Though myriads round assail,
And with worse fury urge this new crusade 205
Than savages have known; though the leagued despots
Depopulate all Europe, so to pour
The accumulated mass upon our coasts,
Sublime amid the storm shall France arise,
And like the rock amid surrounding waves 210
Repel the rushing ocean. — She shall wield
The thunderbolt of vengeance — she shall blast
The despot’s pride, and liberate the world!
FINIS
ZAPOLYA: A CHRISTMAS TALE IN TWO PARTS
PART I: THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED ‘THE USURPER’S FORTUNE’
PART II: THE SEQUEL, ENTITLED ‘THE USURPER’S FATE
PART I: THE PRELUDE, ENTITLED ‘THE USURPER’S FORTUNE’
CHARACTERS
EMERICK, Usurping King of Illyria.
RAAB KIUPRILI, an Illyrian Chieftain.
CASIMIR, Son of KIUPRILI.
CHEF RAGOZZI, a Military Commander.
ZAPOLYA, Queen of Illyria.
SCENE I
Front of the Palace with a magnificent Colonnade. On one side a
military Guard-house. Sentries pacing backward and forward before the
Palace. CHEF RAGOZZI, at the door of the Guard-house, as looking
forwards at some object in the distance.
Chef Ragozzi. My eyes deceive me not, it must be he.
Who but our chief, my more than father, who
But Raab Kiuprili moves with such a gait?
Lo! e’en this eager and unwonted haste
But agitates, not quells, its majesty. 5
My patron! my commander! yes, ‘tis he!
Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes.
[Drums beat, &c., the Guard turns out.
Enter RAAB KIUPRILI.
Raab Kiuprili (making a signal to stop the drums, &c.). Silence!
enough! This is no time, young friend,
For ceremonious dues. The summoning drum,
Th’ air-shattering trumpet, and the horseman’s clatter, 10
Are insults to a dying sovereign’s ear.
