Teresa. Me too, my Father?

Valdez.
Bless, Oh bless my children!
Alvar. Delights so full, if unalloyed with grief,
Were ominous. In these strange dread events
Just Heaven instructs us with an awful voice,
That Conscience rules us e'en against our choice.
Our inward Monitress to guide or warn,
If listened to; but if repelled with scorn,
At length as dire Remorse, she reappears,
Works in our guilty hopes, and selfish fears!
Still bids, Remember! and still cries, Too late!
And while she scares us, goads us to our fate.

APPENDIX

[Both rise.

285

290

THE following Scene, as unfit for the stage, was taken from the tragedy, in the year 1797, and published in the Lyrical Ballads. [1798, pp. 28–31: vide ante, pp. 182-4.]

Enter Teresa and Selma.

Teresa. Tis said, he spake of you familiarly,
As mine and Alvar's common foster-mother.

Selma. Now blessings on the man, whoe'er he be
That joined your names with mine! O my sweet Lady,
As often as I think of those dear times,

When you two little ones would stand, at eve,
On each side of my chair, and make me learn
All you had learnt in the day; and how to talk
In gentle phrase; then bid me sing to you--
"Tis more like heaven to come, than what has been!
Teresa. But that entrance, Selma?
Selma.

Teresa. No one.

Selma.

ΤΟ

Can no one hear? It is a perilous tale!

My husband's father told it me,

Poor old Sesina-angels rest his soul;

He was a woodman, and could fell and saw

With lusty arm. You know that huge round beam
Which props the hanging wall of the old chapel?

Beneath that tree, while yet it was a tree,

He found a baby wrapt in mosses, lined

With thistle-beards, and such small locks of wool

As hang on brambles. Well, he brought him home,
And reared him at the then Lord Valdez' cost.
And so the babe grew up a pretty boy,

15

20

A pretty boy, but most unteachable

And never learn'd a prayer, nor told a bead,

But knew the names of birds, and mocked their notes,
And whistled, as he were a bird himself.

25

And all the autumn 'twas his only play

To gather seeds of wild flowers, and to plant them
With earth and water on the stumps of trees.

A Friar, who gathered simples in the wood,

30

A grey-haired man, he loved this little boy:

The boy loved him, and, when the friar taught him,

He soon could write with the pen; and from that time
Lived chiefly at the convent or the castle.
So he became a rare and learned youth:

35

But O! poor wretch! he read, and read, and read,

Till his brain turned; and ere his twentieth year
He had unlawful thoughts of many things:

And though he prayed, he never loved to pray
With holy men, nor in a holy place.

40

But yet his speech, it was so soft and sweet,

The late Lord Valdez ne'er was wearied with him
And once, as by the north side of the chapel
They stood together chained in deep discourse,
The earth heaved under them with such a groan,
That the wall tottered, and had well nigh fallen
Right on their heads. My Lord was sorely frightened;
A fever seized him, and he made confession
Of all the heretical and lawless talk

45

55

Which brought this judgment: so the youth was seized, 50
And cast into that hole. My husband's father
Sobbed like a child-it almost broke his heart:
And once he was working near this dungeon,
He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's,
Who sung a doleful song about green fields,
How sweet it were on lake or wide savanna
To hunt for food, and be a naked man,
And wander up and down at liberty.
He always doted on the youth, and now
His love grew desperate; and defying death,
He made that cunning entrance I described,
And the young man escaped.

Teresa.
'Tis a sweet tale:
Such as would lull a listening child to sleep,
His rosy face besoiled with unwiped tears.
And what became of him?

1

60

1

Selma.
He went on shipboard
With those bold voyagers who made discovery
Of golden lands. Sesina's younger brother
Went likewise, and when he returned to Spain,
He told Sesina, that the poor mad youth,
Soon after they arrived in that new world,
In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat,

65

70

And all alone set sail by silent moonlight
Up a great river, great as any sea,

And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis supposed,
He lived and died among the savage men.

75

ZAPOLYA1

A CHRISTMAS TALE

IN TWO PARTS 2

Πὰρ πυρὶ χρὴ τοιαῦτα λέγειν χειμῶνος ἐν ὥρᾳ.

ADVERTISEMENT

APUD ATHENAEUM.

THE form of the following dramatic poem is in humble imitation of the Winter's Tale of Shakspeare, except that I have called the first part a Prelude instead of a first Act, as a somewhat nearer resemblance to the plan of the ancients, of which one specimen is left us in the Eschylean Trilogy of the Agamemnon, the Orestes, and the Eumenides. Though a matter of form merely, yet two plays, on different periods of the same tale, might seem less bold, than an interval of twenty years between a first and second act. This is, however, in mere obedience to custom. The effect does not, in reality, at all depend on the Time of the interval; but on a very different principle. There are cases in which an interval of twenty hours between the acts would have a worse effect (i. e. render the imagination less disposed to take the position required) than twenty years in other For the rest, I shall be well content if my readers will take it up, read and judge it, as a Christmas tale.

cases.

1 First published in 1817: included in 1828, 1829 and 1834. Zapolya was written at Calne, in Wiltshire, in 1815. It was offered to the Committee of Management of Drury Lane Theatre, and rejected, in March, 1816.

2 Title] Zapolya, &c. The Prelude entitled 'The Usurper's Fortune'; and The Sequel entitled 'The Usurper's Fate'. By S. T. Coleridge, Esq. 1817. Orestes] Choephoroe MS. S. T. C.

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 Guardhouse, 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.

My patron! my commander! yes, 'tis he!

Call out the guards. The Lord Kiuprili comes.

5

[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.

Soldiers, 'tis well! Retire! your General greets you,

His loyal fellow-warriors.

Chef Ragozzi.

Pardon my surprise. Thus sudden from the camp, and unattended! What may these wonders prophesy?

Raab Kiuprili.

[Guards retire.

Tell me first,

How fares the king? His majesty still lives?

15

Chef Ragozzi. We know no otherwise; but Emerick's friends

(And none but they approach him) scoff at hope.

3 such 1817, 1828, 1829.

Raab Kiuprili. Ragozzi! I have reared thee from a child, And as a child I have reared thee. Whence this air Of mystery? That face was wont to open Clear as the morning to me, shewing all things.

Hide nothing from me.

Chef Ragozzi.

O most loved, most honoured,

The mystery that struggles in my looks
Betrayed my whole tale to thee, if it told thee
That I am ignorant; but fear the worst.
And mystery is contagious. All things here
Are full of motion: and yet all is silent:

And bad men's hopes infect the good with fears.

20

25

Raab Kiuprili. I have trembling proof within how true thou speakest.

30

Chef Ragozzi. That the prince Emerick feasts the soldiery, Gives splendid arms, pays the commanders' debts, And (it is whispered) by sworn promises

Makes himself debtor-hearing this, thou hast heard

All

But what my lord will learn too soon himself.

35

Raab Kiuprili. Ha!-Well then, let it come! Worse scarce

can come.

This letter written by the trembling hand

Of royal Andreas calls me from the camp

To his immediate presence. It appoints me,

The Queen, and Emerick, guardians of the realm,

And of the royal infant. Day by day,

Robbed of Zapolya's soothing cares, the king

40

Yearns only to behold one precious boon,

And with his life breathe forth a father's blessing.

45

Chef Ragozzi. Remember you, my lord! that Hebrew leech Whose face so much distempered you?

Raab Kiuprili.

Barzoni?

I held him for a spy; but the proof failing
(More courteously, I own, than pleased myself),
I sent him from the camp.

Chef Ragozzi.

To him, in chief,

Prince Emerick trusts his royal brother's health.

50

Raab Kiuprili. Hide nothing, I conjure you! What of him?

20 And as a child have reared thee 1817. And as a child I, &c. 1828, 1829. 22 to] on 1817. Before 30 Raab Kiuprili (his hand to his heart). 1817, 1828, 1829. 32 commanders'] commander's 1817, 1828, 1829. 35 All[Then in a subdued and saddened voice. 1817, 1828, 1829. 43 ZAPOLYA 1817, 1828, 1829.

39 ANDREAS 1817, 1828, 1829.