style="font-size:15px;"> From his high embassy?
Sarolta. Thou hast hit my thought! 20
All the long day, from yestermorn 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 25
To discontent us. — Were he come, then should I
Repine he had not arrived just one day earlier
To keep his birthday here, in his own birthplace.
Glycine. But our best sports belike, and gay processions
Would to my lord have seemed but work-day sights 30
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 dewdrops
(Each orbéd drop an orb of glory in it) 35
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, 40
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. 45
Sarolta. So doth the ignorant distance still delude us!
Thy fancied heaven, dear girl, like that above thee,
In its mere self cold, drear, colourless void,
Seen from below and in the large, becomes
The bright blue ether, and the seat of gods! 50
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.
Sarolta. Ah, Glycine! why,
Why did you then betroth yourself?
Glycine. Because 55
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! 60
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 cottage.
[Exit GLYCINE into the cottage, SAROLTA continues her
speech looking after her.
Something above thy rank there hangs about thee, 65
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, 70
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, 75
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 80
With bad words of Lord Casimir and the king.
Pray don’t believe them, madam! This way! This way!
Lady Sarolta’s here. — [Calling without.
Sarolta. Be calm, Glycine.
Enter LASKA and Servants with OLD BATHORY.
Laska (to Bathory). We have no concern with you! What needs your
presence?
Old Bathory. What! Do you think I’ll suffer my brave boy 85
To be slandered by a set of coward-ruffians,
And leave it to their malice, — yes, mere malice! —
To tell its own tale?
[LASKA and Servants bow to Lady SAROLTA.
Sarolta. Laska! What may this mean?
Laska. Madam! and may it please your ladyship!
This old man’s son, by name Bethlen Bathory, 90
Stands charged, on weighty evidence, that he,
On yester-eve, being his lordship’s birthday,
Did traitorously defame Lord Casimir:
