PS1525 . D46 B7 Copy 2 1 >iW S i''i LIBRARY OF CONGRESS D0D05Tb575b .♦'♦. -•^^iiie'r ..5^^^ '^ ^^ * r^*^ ^^. H°* \■•■■•v^V•• o.^.^^'V V^'^^V' ^'^^-V^' e ♦ • _ *0.. • <«' BOZZARIS;<599 A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY N. DEERING 3 i'S '>' ij, \X iS ■'-.>;» x<^ PORTLAND: ^PUBLISHED BY J. S. BAILEY ~ 1 8 5 1. y Entered according to act of Congress, in the Clerks Office for the District of Maine. PRINTED BY FOSTER & GERRISH, PORTLAND. PERSONS OP THE DRAMA. BozzARis — Chief of the SuUotes. Staikos, } fontotjmaris, > LoNDOS, [• JHts officers. Zaimis, "> Javella, ) Ulysses — Greek Chieftain. MusTAPHA — Seraskier of the Turkish Army, Abdallah — Turkish Officer. GrUARDS. Mute. GrREEK AND TuRKISH SoLDIERS. EuDORA — Daughter of Bozzaris. Ida — Cousin to Eudora. Scene, chiefly in Western Hellas. B Z Z A R I S . ACT I. SCENE I. Time, twilight. The Greek Gamp. Enter Staikos and Londos. STAIKOS. I tell thee Londos that I like it not. Hath age destroyed my courage ? LONDOS. It requires Much more than I can boast of to assert it. STAIKOS. Is my arm feeble ? feel of it good Londos — Is there not muscle there ? and then my legs ; Look at them I beseech thee. Is there not A firmness in my tread ? Younger there are, That I will grant indeed ; but none more fit To scale a wall or leap a counterscarp. LONDOS. They have in truth a most rare symmetry, And must have caus'd some heartaches in times past. STAIKOS. And why not cause them still ? I am not old Except in years. Note well my lineaments ; See you the marks of age ? LONDOS. It would require A sharper eye than I am bless'd withal To point them out. Time hath forgotten thee ; 6 BOZZARIS. [act T. Or rather, when he drew his brush athwart Thy visage, he forgot to moisten it. STAIKOS. Say rather, the old painter, being wise, Knew better than to spoil a proper man, When such are scarce and needed. I boast not, Yet that there is about me something more Than the mere semblance of a man, was prov'd E'en in our last encounter with the Turk. LONDOS. You bore yourself right valiantly, as I Myself can testify. I counted two That you made shorter by the head. STAIKOS. But two ? Then you miscounted, Londos ; there were four ; Four stalwart Ottomans, as my sword can witness ; Besides some half a score of minor note, Whose sleeves I slash'd and in such handsome style They'd serve for patterns. Notwithstanding this, I am discarded like a spavin'd charger. I am left here with these few rank and file, Where they all came from, Heaven knows — no matter, I am left here coop'd up with this same rabble To rust as 'twere : and for what purpose think you ? LONDOS. Why, to keep watch and ward. STAIKOS. Umph ! watch and ward ! Now what show of resistance can I make With such a troop, the very scum of Greece, Undisciplin'd and wild and in hot broils When not asleep ? Marco Bozzaris should have used me better. SCENE I.] B Z Z A R I S . LONDOS. And did'st thou not remonstrate ? STAIKOS. Certainly, What little time I had for such a purpose. Till on the very night of his departure, None knew of his intentions. Then he call'd me. Staikos, said he, I must away to-night With nearly all my Suliotes. Stay thou here ; I know thou'rt brave and honest. Be it thine To guard against surprise till my return. On this, not doubting blood was to be drawn, In which I've had some practice, mine was up. And some hot words were utter'd. But what then ? He spoke about his daughter, and his fears If left in others' charge. I had to yield. LONDOS. 'Twas a gross wrong. If there were laurels near That could be reap'd, thine was the hand to do it. As to myself, having no Suliote blood Within my veins, refusal was expected. STAIKOS. It vexes me, don't mention it. LONDOS. Perhaps, So much hard service had been thine of late, He thought you needed rest. STAIKOS. And if I did, Was this a place to find it — foes without, Anxious to bag our heads for old Stamboul, A present for the Sultan, and within. So few in numbers, I have scarce enough To man the outposts ? Call you this a rest ? After a day's hard fighting and a bout 8 BOZZARIS. [act I. With some tougli Ottoman, I grant indeed One might enjoy a nap : but that's not here. Since I have been in charge, 'tis now a week, I swear to you I've drows'd with one eye open. LONDOS. Staikos, thou art an injured man. Had I Been treated thus after such deeds of valor, I'd seek my native hills and let my sword Lie rusty in its scabbard, or would shape it Into a pruning hook. STAIKOS. And leave Bozzaris ? Never ! we boast a kindred blood, and once, How deep 'tis graven on my memory. When down, and Moslem lances at my throat, He hew'd his way 'gainst fearful odds and sav'd me ; I'll never leave him. LONDOS. Better then prepare For a short shrive ; the struggle is unequal. The Christian powers so call'd, but why, I know not. Have not yet mov'd a finger. They have seen, With cold indifference the prostrate Cross, And in its place the Crescent. Worse than this, Look at our civil feuds, our Capitani — STAIKOS. Care little for the people, that is plain. LONDOS. As little do the people care for freedom. Look at the Morea ! See it sunk In hopeless apathy. Back to your hills And let them hug the chains they so delight in. STAIKOS. Night watches and tough fare disturb thy stomach. Wait till our men return, as soon I trust SCENE II.] BOZZARIS. 9 They will, with Turkish viands, and that bile Will be reduc'd. And this reminds of duty. Let us conclude our rounds ; I would not have Bozzaris catch us napping. LONDOS. Trust to me, Thou'rt tired and need repose. STAIKOS. Well be it so. Visit at once each outpost ; at the gorge See that the guard is doubled ; 'tis the pass I deem the most expos'd ; at midnight call me. ^jExiL LONDOS. Bozzaris knew his man, there is no tampering With such as he. One might as well entice A spaniel from its master. Such a dog Requires a muzzle that will stop his bark. He would be call'd at midnight, well I'll call him : But somewhat earlier than he expects, If Zairais heed my missive. \^£Jxit. SCENE IL Time, twilight. In the hack ground a Temple in rums and some of its columns prostrate and broken ; in the distance the Greek Gamp. Enter Eudora. EUDORA. How much the noise and bustle of the camp Jar on the soul in such a state as mine. Sadden' d and sick it is with brooding o'er The wrongs of my poor country. Sadder still In my lov'd father's absence, call'd as now 10 BOZZARIS. [act I. On services of peril. Should mischance Befall him, and what hand can turn the stroke Of Fate ! then what awaits me. Suli lost, O'er run by Turkish hordes, and not a place Of refuge save this camp. Gruard him ye saints, and guard that youth who now Follows his fortunes : him to whom I fear, My thoughts too often wander for my peace. \_jEnter Ida.'] IDA. Still moping like the owl. Come see you not That twilight shades are gathering? 'twill be night Ere we reach home ao;ain. EUDORA. Home ! ah the camp i I do forget we have no other home. But why return dear Ida ? why desert So sweet a solitude for the mere din And clangour of the camp ? IDA. Simply for this ; I have no wish to play Minerva's bird And hoot among these ruins. 'Tis most strange — This whim of thine — it puzzles my poor brain. What is the magnet that is so attractive ? Is it the ivy mantle flung by Time Over this pile ? Is it to wake an echo ? How I should dread an echo here alone ; It can't be that. Is it to rouse the bats 1 Come tell me coz ; it is a gloomy place. EUDORA. And therefore pleases me, for it accords With my own heart's emotions. Ida, when I think of Greece, of Scio's massacre^ SCENE II.] BOZZAKIS. 11 And of the doom that may in turn be ours, The song and dance are painful. IDA. Not to me ; I'd have them constantly ; they'll drive away Such gloomy thoughts — these come enough in dreams. Now honest Staikos says the camp is dull, And breedeth melancholy. There's no need Of straying here to find it. EUDORA. My dear Ida, May you be ever thus ; as bright and gay As you are innocent. Our natures differ. 'Tis said that e'en in childhood I was sad ; Then came ray mother's death, and now my fears Are for my absent sire. His courage seems So near allied to rashness that his life Hangs by a single thread. IDA. And is there not Another for whose life you have some fears — One far away ? EUDORA. What mean you 't IDA. Nothing, only I had a dream of late — would 'st like to hear it ? EUDORA. I am indifferent ; unless it is One that disturb'd thy slumbers — that would pain me. IDA. This was a pleasant dream. I know you'd like it, EUDORA. Some love aflfair^ I'll warrant ; was it not ? 12 BOZZARIS. [act 1. IDA. Why should I dream of love ? I never felt it ; Have you ? Ah coz, that tinge hath answered me. But I do wrong to question you, so listen. I dreamt I saw, one afternoon, a youth Of noble mien and by his side a maiden ; And she was noble too and fair. There was a temple near them, 'twas like this ; And on some sculptur'd marble which had fallen, They sat in converse deep. I know not what The subject of it was, but this I know, 'Twas all engrossing. For they heedless seem'd Of every thing around, and when they left, I mark'd how measur'd was their step and slow ; As if each one had something to reveal, Yet dare not utter it. At the lines they parted. EUDORA. You vex me Ida with such idle prattle. IDA. Was it a waking dream ? No wonder then These ruins have their charms ; such solitude, If one can have a lover at her feet, Is much less frightful. EUDORA. Ida thy poor brain Teems with strange fantasies. IDA. I will take back That echo and the bats I spoke of. I was blind To hit so wide o' the mark. But hark ! that sound, Didst thou not hear it. EUDORA. It is the voice of by-gone years, and fills The ear with a sad requiem. Perhaps SCENE II.] BOZZARIS. 13 Some stone that Time hath loosen'd from the frieze Hath struck the ground. I've heard such sounds before. IDA. Then to remain were perilous, Eudora. This for a trysting place ! it is the last My choice would fall upon. Again that sound ! How fearfully it breaks upon the ear. Art sure 'tis but a stone ? I almost see A Turk behind each column. Even now They may be lurking in this lonely pile. Ah, if it should be so, what fate is ours ! Come, let us hasten back. EUDORA. Your fears are groundless. They know too well the courage of our race, To venture quite so near. Why, you could see, If it were earlier, our sentinels Pacing their weary rounds. 'Twill ne'er be thine To grace a Turkish Harem. IDA. Angels guard us ! EUDORA. You would not answer for a soldier's wife. If so much like the fawn. A Suliote maid Should brave all dangers, at a time like this. IDA. I will confess that here I am a coward. But let me be within the camp — within The sound of well known voices, even you Would scarcely censure me. But let us leave. Or we shall lose the twilight. EUDORA. Well Ida, as thou wilt ; but don't repeat That idle dream. 2 14 IDA. BOZZARIS. [act I. See you my finger coz ? I'll place it thus, and personate hereafter, The god of silence. JSxeunt. SCENE III. The Greek Oamp. Time, night. [^Enter Londos.'] LONDOS. Now to withdraw the guard ; and if I fail, I have ahout me a Lethean drug, "Which, mitigled with their wine, will make our work A holiday's amusement. zAiMis, \without.~\ Londos ! LONDOS. Who Calls Londos ? — ^honest men should be asleep. ZAIMIS, {entering -I 'Tis Zaimis now ; the Devil will hereafter. LONDOS. Ha, Zaimis, welcome ! for thy coming takes A mountain from my breast. But how is this ? Thou hast the look of one fatigued, and worn With travel. Thou did'st ride a mettled steed. And hast o'ertask'd thyself in zeal to serve us. ZAIMIS. Who ride for life are seldom known to creep At a snail's pace. SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. LONDOS. But where are all thy men, And are they pick'd ;- —fellows that will not flinch In a bold enterprise ? ZAIMIS. 15 That they are pick'd Already, Heaven knows. But that they will be Ay, and by the vultures, I'll be sworn, Unless they fled as I did. LONDOS. Fled, explain ? This is no time for jest ; I'm on the rack. ZAIMIS. I was at Creonero when I learn'd The weakness of your force, and your intention To aid in its betrayal. Fortune seem'd To favor us ; for on that very night, Jussuf with his battalions was advancing On Carpenitza, to unite his force With Mustapha Pashaw. To him I hasten'd, Showing your plan of the encampment, then How to attack it ; which, when well resolv'd, He gave consent to. LONDOS. Well, what next ? ZAIMIS. The chief Had e'en prepar'd the order to detach The force I ask'd, it wanted but his seal. When there arose a cry so wild and fearful, Commingled with the clash of crossing blades, We rush'd, yet scarce had time, to gain the entrance. For there I found our countrymen upon us, The work of death begun. 16 BOZZAKIS. [act I. LONDOS. You torture me. ZAIMIS. Knowing my fate if taken, I stopp'd not To learn the issue. In my flight I pass'd A horse without a rider ; him I caught, And, vaulting to the saddle, drew not rein Till here. LONDOS. Then are the schemes for our advancement baffled. And the high rank and the piastres promis'd. And which till now seemed ready for our clutch. Are lost forever. ZAIMIS. Thou art too desponding. It was an equal chance that Jussuf conquer' d ; And if so, then — LONDOS. Feed not your hopes with ifs. These ifs may answer for the airy domes That visionaries build, but naught beside. What, know you not the assailants ? ZAIMIS. Some Mainotes probably, some raw recruits. Who needed darkness and a sleeping foe, To whet their courage. LONDOS. Mainotes, raw recruits t Know Zaimis, that each warrior of the band Was a fierce Suliote, and he who led, Marco Bozzaris ! ZAIMIS, Bozzaris ! then our hopes — SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 17 LONDOS. Are idle all ! He is the very lion of his tribe. His grapple is no boy's play, and his fang, Once fasten'd, holds its gripe. What, think'st thou, man, I should have urg'd thy coming as I did. Had he remain'd in camp ? 'Tis now a week Since he, on secret service, left at night, With his wild hordes ; I thought I mention'd it. ZAIMIS. You spoke of numbers merely. LONDOS. I was hurried, And wrote I knew not how. What's to be done ? They will return by morning. To my tent ; A longer tarry may awake suspicion. ZAIMIS. Dost hear that heavy footfall ? LONDOS. It is the measur'd tramp of the patrole. Let us avoid them. GUARD, [without.'] Stand ! who goes there ? LONDOS. A friend ! *' Leonidas ! J) GUARD. LONDOS. The countersign ? Pass GUARD. on. LONDOS. This [Exeunt way, this way. towards hack of stage.' ACT 11. S CENE I. Greek Gamp; distant mountains. Enter Staikos, Londos and Zaimis. STAIKOS. Londos I give tliee joy, and Zaimis too ; 'Twas bruited here this morning that Bozzaris Is on his way to camp, nay near at hand. LONDOS. I put small faith in rumors ; for, when trac'd, You find them oft engender'd by the wish. This may be true however, and I hope That it will prove so. STAIKOS. Then you doubt, but hope ? And yet your countenance belies your word : Doth it not Zaimis ? Hath he not a sad And lengthen'd visage ; such as one would show Had the Turks gain'd some vantage ? and it comes From mounting guard so constantly of late, And sleepless nights which must affect the spleen, And thus occasion bile : I told him so. Ah, comrades, when you've serv'd as long as Staikos, Such things as pains and aches and sleepless nights Will be strange visitants. I dare be sworn I have not known them, saving by report. This whole campaign. LONDOS. Yet you complain'd last night. STAIKOS. Pshaw ! that was sympathy. 'Tis wonderful How much depends on sympathy. I might, SCENE I,] BOZZARIS. 19 Had I the learning, write a book upon it. The fact is, Zaimis, that your friend look'd glum, And as I have a kindly nature in me, Why I— ZAIMIS. Look'd glum to bear him company. STAIKOS. You have it, by St. Luke ! But let us watch That pass among the hills. For distant sights I'll match my eye 'gainst any one in Hellas. {^Retires up the stage."] ZAIMIS. Man recollect thyself ; a trembling hand Will oft disturb and bring upon the surface, What should be hid, if one would cheat his patient. If this old fellow, who is unsuspecting, Thus comments on thy looks, one more observant May gather from that index all that's writ Within. A counterfeit minutely wrought. Will pass for the pure metal. LONDOS. S 'death ! I'm in desperate fortunes ; all I own Is pawn'd, except this weapon. ZAIMIS. So is mine ; And that the pledge might have a greater value, I threw mine honor after it. LONDOS. 'Twas well ; From my own knowledge 'twas not worth the keeping. As to dissembling, 'tis beyond my nature. I am not like that Spartan who could smile And hug the animal that 'neath his folds, Was gnawing at his vitals. 20 BOZZARIS. , [act II. ZAIMIS. Hark ! that bugle ! They are approaching. Staikos, see you not Their arms flash in the sunlight? STAIKOS. Is it so ? Then by St. Luke ! mine eye must have a mote in't. 'Tis the first time it fail'd me. \Javella enters.'] Ha Javella ! This is indeed an index of their coming. Come ope thy budget man — the news — but first What of Bozzaris — is he safe ? JAVELLA. Safe when I left him, scarce a moment since ; But how it happen'd 'mid such showers of shot, I marvel greatly. STAIKOS. Ah ! a skirmish then ? JAVELLA. Yes and a bloody one, a night assault. LONDOS, \_Aside to Zamu.'] Said I not rightly ? ZAIMIS. Hush ! STAIKOS. A night assault, And this good sword was rusting in its scabbard ! Well; there are some I wot of, who should thank Bozzaris for that mercy. Had it been drawn and wielded by this arm, It would have added to the list of slain A score or two at least ; but l6t that pass, I'll have a hack at them. \_Sound of Trumpets.'} SCENE I.] BOZZARIS. 21 JAVELLA. The hero comes ! [^^?ite7' Bozzaris, Fontoumaris and Soldiers.'] OMNES. Hurrah ! BOZZARIS. Thanks, comrades, thanks ; a greeting such as this Is doubly welcome. For it tells not only Of your approval of our recent service, But that yourselves have hearts and hands to strike When Hellas calls. We have but done our duty ; So have ye all, as guardians of our camp. Yours was the harder task, and therefore wins A brighter laurel. I thank thee honest Staikos, and the rest, For this good service. STAiKOS, [aside.'] Now 1 had resolv'd On a most serious charge, but this disarms me ; He hath a charm. BOZZARIS. Now to our tents — \_Dead march on horns at a distance.] but hold ! That sound reminds me of a mournful duty. How we attack'd the foe and how we triumph'd, I will relate anon. The victory Was purchas'd at a price we long shall mourn. For Dion and Nicetas press the field. And Diamantis, he who left with youth And the bright hopes that ever strew its path, Lies on that bier. [Dead march ; soldiers enter with the body.] Here let it rest awhile till we have gaz'd Once more upon that manly brow. His life 22 B z z A R I s. [act II. Devoted to his country, and his death So truly glorious, that in after times Men oft will speak of it. [^Advances and lifts the pall.'] How beautiful, how calm ! Those clustering curls Let some one at the grave remove, and bear To his lone mother. [iTe returns to the front while the rest approach the hier and then resume their places.] Javella, mark our comrade's burial By due observance of whatever rights Our customs sanction ; for though dead he speaketh. Directly this sad duty is perform' d, Come to my tent. Now onward to his final resting place ! And, as we give his body to the dust, Resolve like him our lives to consecrate To freedom, Union and our native land. \J)ead march ^ soldiers exeunt, Bozzaris following .~\ SCENE II. \_JEnter Fontoumaris as Javella crosses the stage.] FONTOUMARIS. You are in haste Javella, and would pass Without a salutation. JAVELLA. When haste becomes a duty, it allows But little time for acts of courtesy. I have despatches of some moment here. And must to horse forthwith. FONT. Ah, what's the news'? SCENE II.] BOZZARIS. 23 For this implies that something is afloat ; And if it bring about a change of quarters. It will be worth the hearing. AVhat the import, Or are you bound to secrecy ? JAVELLA. There's none Left to my keeping. FONT. Now you trifle with me. Know that I saw you quit Bozzarris' tent ; And what a woman must have known, will not Be long a secret. Tell me honestly, Was not his daughter leaning on his shoulder, When he indited them ? JAVELLA. No, on my honor. But much he wish'd to see her — even now, Staikos is out in quest. FONT. Javella, thanks ; But I detain you ; so farewell ! [exit Javella.'] ha ! ha ! The secret which I wanted, I have got — Eudora not within. But where ? ah here Comes Staikos to resolve my doubts. [Miter Staikos.~\ STAIKOS, [loudly.'} Javella ! That fellow's deaf; I know my voice is heard A mile distinctly, e'en against the wind. ' ] He went too like an arrow ; why such haste ? FONT. He bears despatches of some consequence, Which must be forwarded. STAIKOS. I have my doubts. 24 BOZZARIS. [act II. If they requir'd haste, or were important, They would have been entrusted to a hand I will not mention, hut by far more fit For such an undertaking. FONT. Is he not Active and trusty ? STAIKOS. That I'll not deny ; But there are others more so — one at least — And wary too ; Bozzaris knows his man, When such is wanted. 'Twas even now He sent me forth in quest of fair Eudora. He had his aids about him, younger men ; But when despatch is needed, then he calls On Staikos. This reminds me of a journey That I once made, from Arta to Lepanto. You know the distance ; now how many hours WasI— FONT. But fair Eudora- — did you see her ? STAIKOS. No, not exactly see her, but I know Where she hath gone. It is her wont of late — All women have their whims — to bend her way To an old ruin, that's some half a league Beyond the camp. But now that journey — FONT. Some matters of importance call me hence ; Another time, good Staikos. [JExit.'] STAIKOS. Ha ! that journey — 'Twas done so quickly that they never like To hear me mention it. Now to Bozzaris. [^^xit.'] SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 26 SCENE III. In the hack ground a Temple in ruins. Enter Bozzaris. BOZZARIS. Yes, this must "be the temple where my child Is wont to stray ; more fitting, one would think, For those whom age and misery have crush'd, Than for the young and buoyant ; a sad sight ! And how it tells our country's history ; Some of its noble columns still erect, And some upon the ground, defac'd and broken. The moss is now a tenant of its fissures, And the rank ivy creeps around its base : In ruins, yet still beautiful ! Surely the traveller, while passing near. Must pause and ponder : for it will remind him Of Hellas as she was, and — must I speak it ! As, alas, she is — degraded and in bondage. ! will she ever rise and take her stand Among the nations ! 1 may not live to see it, but I feel A confidence I shall not rest with slaves ; That the proud Crescent yet shall kiss the dust. And Greece be free ! [Enter Soldier.'} SOLDIER. A messenger awaits you at the camp. BOZZARIS. My daughter, hast thou seen her ? SOLDIER. She pass'd beyond the lines, her daily custom, Some time ago. Had she retrac'd her steps, I should have met her. BOZZARIS. I'll return anon. 3 26 BOZZARIS. [act II. Meantime request the officer on duty, To send my guard. [^Exit Soldier. "^ 'Twas strange ! nor can I rid me of the thought, That some calamity waits me or mine. Last night I saw the curtain of my tent Drawn by a fieshless hand — it beckon'd me I Was it a warning of approaching death ? It must be so — such visitations have been. Then what of life is left me I devote Henceforth to thee, my country ! happy, happy To die in thy good service ; for the sting Of death is lost to those who fall for Freedom ! {^Exit.~\ [^Eudora and Fontoumaris advance from the ruins J\ FONT. And yet you turn a deaf ear to my wooing. Is it not so, Eudora 1 EUDORA. I have given All that a simple maiden, like myself Unskill'd in the world's mazes, ought to give ; Too much, I fear. I ofFer'd you my friendship ; And, if you doubt me, Fontoumaris, there's My hand in pledge. FONT. And thus my lips shall seal it. Yet friendship — what is friendship ? It is cold, And burns like some dim taper ; not like that Which glows within my bosom — not like love. Ah, Eudora, There are, in certain caverns, streams which long Have flow'd in darkness and in silence. Yet, Let one but enter with his lighted torch, Those waters turn to fire And, darting up their liquid flames, reveal SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 27 Such varied gems along the vaulted roof, That all doth seem enchantment. So will act The fountains of the heart, if only touch'd By the bright torch of Love. But pardon me If, urging thus my suit, I have presum'd. Perhaps I have a rival — one whose worth Hath long been known to thee, with prior clainjs, EUDORA. I would there were, to punish thy conceit. The men are ftivor'd with a double share Of this commodity. If we but smile. When they pay their devoirs, this courtesy Is constru'd into love. They think, forsooth, They've only to extend the finger, and The fluttr'ing bird alights. Am I not right ? FONT. I know of one exception. EUDORA, Ah, thyself Of course. FONT. In truth I've had convincing proof, That there are birds not to be lur'd nor wing'd. The one I aim at takes so high a flight, She baffles Cupid's archery. EUDORA. There are two Who bear the name of Cupid. One is earthy, Gross, sensual — Ms arrow cannot reach A bird that soars ; perhaps you had the wrong one. When next you try, engage the other Cupid. FONT. I fear that even he would miss the mark, If in a soldier's cause. Our trade is rough, 28 "bozzaris. [act ii. And poorly fits us to engage in lists, Where woman is the prize. EUDORA. I know not what Your proud Fanariote beauties may require To please their humor ; that you best can tell. But if, in times like these, they hold in scorn The soldier's calling, mark me, they do lack The hearts of Suliote maidens. And is it strange that in this hour of peril, When even woman doth forget her weakness In zeal to serve her country — is it strange, That 1 should hold him less than man, who skulks. And plays the coward ? I'm Bozzaris' child. FONT. Forgive me if I wrong'd your noble nature. The city of the Sultan, where my life Hath pass'd from boyhood up, is not the place To learn your sex's value. ETJDORA. That is true ; The Seven Towers have flung their baleful shades Too long upon the Fanar. They who dwell Beneath them dwell in fear, and dare not give An utterance to their thoughts — nay, wear their chains, Seeming content, while wreathing them with flowers. To speak of liberty is death. Thank Heaven ! There are no streams in Hellas which can tell The dark tales of the Bosphorus. Its very atmosphere is dank and tainted With the foul breath of Tyranny, and sinks With leaden weight upon the spirits. You Bid well to c[uit it for our mountain air. SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 29 FONT. And yet I find myself a captive here, Where I expected freedom. Ah, Eudora, If you would bid me hope — EUDORA. Hope comes to all. Enough, I priz'd thy coming in our need, And ever, in my vigils, pray good angels, To have thee in their keeping : what would'st more ? FONT, What more ? thy love, and like my own^ unchanging. EUDORA. I have a woman's constancy, and where She once hath trusted, she unwav'ring clings. But come, let us return. I should not play The truant thus, when Ida is alone. FONT. Nay, not so soon. EUDORA. Your absence may be heeded. A soldier's post you know — FONT. Enough, I yield. \_Enter Ahdallah and soldiers from the ruins. ^ ABDALLAII. Hold, your path lies here. FONT. By Heaven not so ; Outnumber'd, but not lost. Eudora fly — They pass but o'er my corse ! BOzzARis, [as he enters."] Back, villains, back ! Had ye the lives that old Antaeus boasted, I'd have them all. 3* 30 BOZZARIS. [act II. FONT. Bozzaris, save Eudora ! ABDALLAH. Bozzaris ! This is a prize indeed. BOZZARIS. But not for thee ! Ho there ! my guards ! [guards enter — comhat.'] EUDORA. My father, save my father ! [Eudora endeavors to shield her father ^ hut is withheld hy Fontoumaris. The Turks fly, except Ahdallah, who falls, disarmed, at the feet of Bozzaris.'] ACT III. SCENE I. Greek Gamp. Enter Bozzaris and Fontoimiaris. BOZZARIS. You ask for that whicli doth surprise and pain me ; A boon that granted, would not well comport With the maid's happiness, nor mj intendments. FONT. I know the value of the gem T crave. Its beauty and rare excellence would grace The noblest wearer ; how much more myself. I have but trifling claims on which to ground My suit ; but time and opportunity May yet enable me to carve a name Among the proudest. BOZZARIS. Fontoumaris, that Is thine already. Ay, it pleas'd me well, Thy gallant bearing in the late assault At Creonero, not to mention that Which sav'd my child and renders me your debtor. rONT. Do you deny me rank ? My ancestors You know were noble. BOZZARIS. The nobility Which cometh from our dead progenitors, When unadorn'd by those who hold the title, Hath little substance in it. It is like The lurid vapor I have often seen 32 BOzzARis. [act hi. Hover and flitter, on a summer's night, Over ancestral vaults. At distance seen, It weareth all the semblance of a man ; Approach, and it is nothing. That which gives true nobility is worth ; The sure reward of self reliance, aim'd At a high mark, with firm resolve to reach it. Thy claims in this respect, I have not question'd. FONT. If it be wealth you ask for, there are few Fanariotes who in this outweigh my kindred. BOZZARIS. Yet were it ten times greater, being there. The Sultan's breath can scatter it. No ! no ! The accident of wealth, or what the world Is pleas'd to call such, diamonds and gold, I hold in light esteem. The wealth I covet Is th' undaunted soul that, swelling, breaks Whatever chains the tyrant flings around it. And stands, the image of its Maker, free ! rONT. Then on what ground is this refusal ? BOZZARIS. Listen. The Isles of Hydra and Ispara lie But a few leagues apart ; their various marts Are open to each other, and the ties Of friendship and of interest bind them ; nay, On the same deck their blood hath often mingled, In conflict with the Moslem — but not elsewhere. No Hydriote maiden gives her plighted hand To any from Ispara. We who claim. And rightly, with the first a common ancestry, Have the same custom. How can I, their chief, SCENE II.] BOZZARIS. 33 Sanction its violation — give my child To one whose ancestors, like thine, arc known To have Ispariot blood — though they have long Resided in the Fanar ? Were it not so, I could not yield. No Suliote maid could hreatho The air that Mahmoud poisons. Ask me not To make this sacrifice. FONTi A sacrifice ! Thou know'st me not, Bozzaris. If I thought That it would cause thy child a single tear, Myself would bo the victim, BOZZARIS. If sincere. Thou hast a chance to prove it. Give thy heart To Greece, who needs it all ; if, by thy death, Thou canst secure her triumph, better far Than live to see her downfall. FONT, [astde.^ Yes, I will To battle and to death ! For who would live. If robb'd of that which makes life worth preserving. l^jExit.l BOZZARIS. A gallant youth ! would it were in my power To aid his wooing. Hellas, had all thy sons But half his spirit, thou would'st stand redeem'd. And grind to dust the shackles of the tyrant. l£!jiit.'j SCENE II. The tent of Bozzaris. Londos discovered at a table writing. Enter Bozzaris, in deep thought. BOZZARIS. Are my last orders ready ? {^Londos hands papers'] it is well . 3J: BOZZAEIS. [act III. The officers I summon'd are without ; Bid them now enter. \_Exit Londos.'] Yes, 'tis even so ; Greece is not what she hath been. Yet the world Admiring gazes, e'en in her decay. How often, in the night watch, she reminds me Of some old Pharos on th' j^gean coast. Whose lonely light still cheers the mariner. Though every rock that crumbles from its base, Tells that the surge and storm have battled roughly. Can I repair the ruin, and restore Its fair proportions ? I will try : and though I fail in the endeavor, after times Will do my memory justice. \_Enter Staihos, Fontomnaris, Londos and Zaimis,'] Comrades, it is no time for us to rest Contented with our laurels ; But rather take advantage of the panic Occasion 'd by our late success in arms, And strengthen our position. For this end, Before the enemy hath time to rally, Here are my orders to the various posts To forward their detachments ; With increas'd numbers, and the greater strength A few days rest will give our bruised limbs. When next we strike, we cannot doubt the issue. A word with Fontoumaris. l^Bozzaris and Fontoumaris retire up the Stage. "j STAIKOS. I would it were tomorrow, for my arm Hath really shrunk for lack of exercise. Mark you this sleeve, my friends, how loose it hangs j And yet 'tis scarce a fortnight since I thrash' d My tailor for its tightness ; 'gad, ere long Even Javella's doublet will sit easy. SCENE II.] BOZZARIS. 35 LONDOS. No doubt of that ; thou hast it on already. STAIKOS. Javella's ? out upon thee. ZAIMIS. It is true ; I know it by these points. 'Twas hanging in thy tent the day he left us, And now he comes to claim it. STAIKOS. ^sop, who Was noted for his lies, would kick the beam, If weigh'd 'gainst two such varlets. \_Exit Staikos as Javella enters. ~\ BOZZARIS, [advancing ] Ha! Javella! What from the prince ? Will he detach the men Icall'dfor? JAVELLA. Read and judge. \Jiands papers to Bozzaris.'] BOZZARIS. What do I see ! " The Capidan Pashaw, with all his fleet, Is off Patras, waiting the march of Omer, For a combin'd attack on Missolinghi. The Arcananiau passes are defenceless ; Scutari's chief is up in Thessaly ; And, aided by a large Albanian force. Aims for the gulf of Corinth by Vrachori." Should both succeed, they'll sweep the whole Morea ! The time hath come for action — be it so ! Call in the pickets, and prepare to march Forthwith on Carpenitza. Londos, let Our couriers mount in haste with these despatches ; 36 BOZZARIS. [act III. Away, away, each to his several duties. [ Officers, except Londos, who arranges papers at the table, exeunt.'] Grod of my sires ! the fearful avalanche, That hath so long o'erhung the mountain's verge, Even now topples ; and without thine aid To breast its downward progress, it will come With desolating fury, and must crush Every domestic hearth, and every temple Where we Thy name adore ! Londos, a word. I must away this instant, and alone. To Macrinoro, but shall overtake Our forces on their march. I would embrace tiudora ere I leave, but have no time For such a parting. Show to her this ring ; It will convince her that you speak my wishes, And make compliance pleasure. Tell my child That she and her attendants must depart, Under your care, and with befitting escort. To the Ionian Isles, for there have fled Our women and our children. Tell her too, That, should we meet no more, my dying prayer Will be for her and Hellas ! lExit.'] LONDOS. To such a prayer I shall not say amen. His child and his despatches will, I think. Have a like fortune. [Enter Zaimis} Zaimis, thou art welcome : The very man I wanted. ZAIMIS. What's in th' wind ? LONDOS. The clouds that seem'd of late so dark and low'ring, Have pass'd away, and a bright morn awaits us. SCENE II.] B Z Z A K I S . 37 ZAIMIS. What ! hast thou thrown a main ? LONDOS. Behold this ring ! It grac'd, just now, the finger of Bozzaris ; It graces mine, and puts within my reach The promis'd gold. ZAIMIS. Explain ; I see not how. LONDOS. It places in my power Bozzaris' daughter. I have it in strict charge to take the maid To safer quarters ; with a chosen few — They shall be few — I will — ZAIMIS. Fulfil thy mission. LONDOS. Fool ! shall I shun the hazard when my hand Can sweep the stakes ? I know no safer quarters Than a Turk's Harem. ZAIMIS. Thou'rt a very devil. It looks not well — I wash my hands of it. LONDOS. What, and be still a beggar ? Such a prize Will almost drain the coffers of the Sultan ; And we shall revel, Zaimis. ZAIMIS. Say no more. Thy breath hath blown my lamp of mercy out, And left me groping in the dark : lead on. LONDOS. Some three leagues hence, a dark monastic pile Frowns on the neighb'ring forest. The fat monks, 4 38 BOZZARIS. [act III. Who pray'd and feasted there, have long since scatter'd ; While fireside stories, still afloat, of foul And frequent murders it hath witness'd, fright The peasant from its portals. Yet 'tis not Deserted. Lately some marauding Turks Have broke the stillness of its cells, and watch Our slightest movements. Thou must hasten thither. Seek out Abdallah, who commands, and tell him Londos is on the road, and will refresh His escort with their viands. Rest assur'd, The hint will not be lost— and now to horse. ZAIMIS. But stay, the signal for admittance. I.ONDOS. True, I had forgot — three knocks upon the postern. [^Exit ZaimisJ] He said I was a devil. He will find 'Tis even so, ere we divide the spoil. \_Enter Fontoumaris.'] Comrade, thou hast a melancholy look. Methinks the bustle of our breaking up, And the fair prospect of another field, Should make thee joyous. FONT. Joyous ! so it would. If that field were my grave. LONDOS. Why, what hath happen'd ? FONT. Thou must have mark'd my course of wooing. Hope Now lights my path no further, for Bozzaris Rejects my suit. LONDOS. And thou wilt fold thine arms In resignation? If thou art a man, SCENE II.] BOZZARIS. 39 'Tis not too late to win the prize, and wear it. FONT. Point out the way — I'm ready. LONDOS. In my charge Eudora leaves this very day for Corfu. Join with our escort ; and with soft endearments, Such as men always use, thou wilt anon Lo weave the network of thy love about her, That she were more than woman to break through it, And of necessity must share thy fortunes. FONT. But where direct our course — where find a home Beyond her father's power ? LONDOS. The Turkish camp. FONT. What, turn a renegade ? I cannot sink so low ; and if I could, She would disdain my offer. LONDOS. Trust to my guidance. I will so contrive This journey, which thy happiness secures, That she will not suspect thee ; nay, will think You peril'd life itself to save her from it. FONT. Now thou dost mock me — 'tis impossible. LONDOS. I will unfold more fully on our way. FONT. No ! No ! I can't deceive her. LONDOS. This thy love ? What, shall those matchless orbs, on which so oft 40 BOZZARIS. [act III. Thine own have gaz'd enamour'd, Glance with a lover's look upon a rival ? PONT. Name it not ! LONDOS. Shall some wild Suliote's arm embrace that form, That fondly clung to thine ? FONT. spare me, spare me ! LONDOS. Or one, to thee a stranger, press those lips Whose hue doth shame the coral ? EONT. Hold ! thy words Do madden me. Another's ? never, never ! Lead where thou wilt, so I but call her mine. LONDOS. Then onward ! thou shalt have her. [^JExeunt. SCENE III. Interior of a Monastery. Enter Eudora and Ida, followed hy Londos and Fontournaris ; the two last retire up the stage. IDA. Come, let us quit this place ; why tarry longer ? How gloomy and sepulchral ! and its doors. As they swing home upon their creaking hinge, Give such a hollow, sullen sound, it seems As if the world were shut out, and forever. What is its name Eudora ? I should call it The Hall of Gloom. EUDORA. A venerable pile, and why deserted. SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 41 I cannot e'en conjecture. It is call'd The Monastery of San Nicolas. IDA. San Nicolas ! Eudora, I have heard Most frightful tales about it ; how that monks, Who had for years been buried, flitted still Among its corridors ; that cries — that shrieks — <■ EUDORA. The gossip of some crones. I shall blot out The name of Ida from my list of kin. If she betray such weakness. Now I love These haunts. How many of the broken hearted — Some guilty, yet repentant, some much wrong'd, Have here at last, found refuge and a rest. And dearer still to me those glorious temples, Rear'd by our ancestors — not as works of art Merely, in this they stand unparagon'd — But as the monuments of former glory ; A legacy bequeath'd us, which, if valued As it should be, would make us free indeed. IDA. I know your love for temples ; there was one Which had a great attraction. 'Twas the one I mention'd I had dreamt about. EUDORA. Fair cousin, When will your thoughts be sober ? IDA. Are they not ? Methinks that some of us were never more so ; Soberness is in the air — it is infectious. Eudora, thou art sober. Fontoumaris Is some degree^eyond it — he is dull. 42 B Z Z A R I S . [act III. FONT, \advancing.~\ Dull— said'st thou dull? [aside] did she but know the cause. I'm not aware of it. IDA. Nor is Eudora ; But some I know are always in this mood, When lookers on are present, LONDOS. Fontourmaris Is troubled with a headache. 'Twill be off When we resume our journey ; come, our steeds Have taken breath, let us arrange our escort ; Be ready at our call. [Exeunt Londos and FontoumarisJ] IDA. Then call us quickly. If long delay'd, some venerable monk May whisk us through the key hole. \Ahdallah and Turhs rush in, and Ida clasps Eudora.'] Save me, Eudora, save me I ABD ALLAH. Drag them to the vaults 1 EUDORA. Ruffians, stand off ! touch but a single hair Of this poor child, and there are those at hand. Who will take ample vengeance. ABDALLAH. They are in chains, and harmless as yourselves. I know full well that face. Thou did'st escape Me once, but now there is no father's arm To smite me to the earth, as he did then ; Curse on him for that blow ! EUDORA. He spar'd thyjife. And this is the return. SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 43 ABDALLAH. No, no ! he left me Dying, as he suppos'd ; but 'twas a feint On my part, to deceive him ; and I live — To be aveng'd. Tear them asunder, quick, EUDOEA. Hold, part us not. If slavery be our doom, Let us be slaves together. She would die With terror, if alone, \_guards advance.'] Nuy, touch her not. Lead on. [Ahdallah waves Ms hand, and exeunt Eudora and Ida, followed by two of the guard.] LONDOS, [«s he enters.] Hast thou secur'd them all ? ABDALLAH. Ay, all. \_Miter Zaimis.] londos. Not quite ; That villain's head is worth the whole of them. Seize him, or all is lost, [they seize Zaimis.] ZAlMIS. Thou double traitor ! Is naught but this my share, when I have play'd The game into thy hands ? Thou yet shalt have The guerdon of thy perfidy. This arm. If free but for a moment, would — ABDALLAH. Away ! LONDOS. Give him the bowstring ! he's a spy — the bowstring ! \_Soldiers hear him off, Ahdallah following.] These fellows were my tools ; and having us'd them Till I have built the frame work of my fortunes, I cast them off, for Rust to feed upon, Lest haply they should wound me. [Exit.] ACT IV. S C ENE I. A forest. Enter Bozzaris disguised as a Galoyer. BOZZARIS. Unbappy chance, that robb'd me of my steed In this wild tangled forest. Above all, At such a time as this, when every hour Is fraught with peril for my gallant band, And I not with them. In the humble garb Of those who dwell within our mountain caves, And seek, in prayer and solitude, that peace The world denies, I have pass'd on unquestion'd. Shall I still, and find the path I lost ! But I must on ; the clouds drift angrily — The moaning wind comes on in fitful gusts. Huddling the scatter'd leaves — to whirl them upward. And now that muttering thunder ! warnings all, To seek for shelter. Ha ! a traveller ! {^Zaimis enters wounded, and falh.~\ ^Tis Zaimis, as I live, and gash'd with wounds, From whom I parted yesterday in camp ! "What mystery is this ? ZAIMIS. All seems in mist ; and yet methinks I see The garb of a Caloyer. If so, come And shrive a dying man. If I could live To clear this bosom of a load of j>;uilt That presses heavily ; if I could warn Bozzaris of the perils that surround him. Then death would be most welcome. SCENE I.] BOZZARIS. 45 BOZZARIS. Son, thou did'st speak of perils that surround The Suliote leader. They who are in arms Are always thus heset — the shot, the sabre, May strike at any moment. ZAIMIS. Not of them I speak, but of a dark conspiracy. BOZZARIS. Conspiracy ! how, where ? As thou dost hope For mercy, hide not aught that threatens Greece, And which uncheck'd may make her struggle hopeless. ZAIMIS. The Capitani are not what they seem. The purses of the Sultan have been flung Into their laps with such a lavish hand, They care but little for the cause of Greece, If their own power be strengthen'd. And some, not satisfied to keep aloof, Are even now at work, corrupting those To whom Bozzaris looks for succour. Nay, Treason is lurking in his very camp. BOZZARIS. This is a charge so startling, that it calls For proof, ay proof, ere one can give it credence. ZAIMIS. I was myself en gag' d in it — a traitor. So wrought upon by one whose hellish arts Did take advantage of my poverty — By one Bozzaris trusted — that I sold Myself for gold, but got, instead, his dagger. BOZZARIS. The traitor's name ? 4* 46- BOzzARis. [act IV. ZAIMIS. Londos. BOZZARIS. It cannot be. He had in cliarge the daughter of his Chief, And even now is on his way to Carfu. ZAIMIS. True, as I hope for heaven ; and ere this, He and his charge are with the Seraskier^ BOZZARIS. Eudora fled with Londos? idle, all ! Now do I know indeed thy brain's distraught. ZAIMIS. Raise me that I may lean against this rock. My tide of life is at so low an ebb, I may not utter all I wish, yet still Enough to warn him. BOZZARIS. Son, collect thyself. Thou could'st not mean the words thy lips hath utter'd. ZAIMIS. Londos — Eudora — Fontoumaris — BOZZARIS. With Fontoumaris, too ? and she so lov'd him — ■ Yet knew my firm resolves. A sudden light Breaks in upon me — he who won her love- But no ! she would not leave her father ! Answer, If but a single word. Say, went she not Unwillingly, compell'd by force ? \_Zaimis dies.^ He's gone Left me to drift on such a sea of horror, I sink beneath its waters ! \_clasps Ms forehead.'] Stand up my soul ! why yield to private griefs, When Greece demands thy service ? let me fly, And drag her recreant offspring back to duty. Ere we are all ingulf'd. lUxit.'] SCENE II.] BOZZARIS. 47 SCENE II. The Greek Camp. Enter Staikos. STAIKOS. 'Twas well Bozzaris left in camp a man Nam'd Andreas Staikos — Captain Staikos ; but, If merit had its due — the man to lead Battalia ! for who, save Andreas Staikos, Could drill and discipline this motley rabble ? Boumeliotes, Mainotes, some from Attica ; And lastly these Philhellenes, that speak So many tongues, it seems a very Babel. Scarce had we taken up our line of march, When lo ! a mutiny. But I have quell'd it. I'm just the man for quenching such a fire. There's nothing left to smoulder and puff up On finding vent, when I have done with it — Not even smoke. In truth, this blade of mine Was always a most rare extinguisher, The very flat of it, When wielded by an arm that had the muscle. [Javella crosses the stage.'} Ho ! hast thou tidings of our leader ? JAVELLA. None ; Though yesterday was fix'd for his return. I fear some accident hath happen'd. STAIKOS. I cannot, for my life, see what detains him. But men don't travel now — the best of them — As they did formerly. Did'st ever hear How quick I went from Arta to Lepanto ? JAVELLA. I think I have. 48 BOZZARIS. [act IV. STAIKOS. Not the particulars. [noise without.^ javella. Heard you that noise? I must away. IJExit.^ STAIKOS. 'Twas fancy ; I heard it not. Our men might he at play Perhaps — 'twas nothing serious. Discipline Hath ever been my motto. I'll maintain it. [soldiers cross the stage, Jighting.'\ Another drunken brawl 1 Now, by St. Luke, I'll play th' anatomist, And hew them to the chine, [follows with drawn swordS] SCENE in. The interior of the cave of Ulysses, at Mount Parnassus. Enter Bozzaris and Ulysses. BOZZAKIS. Nay, nay, I charge thee not. The services Which thou hast render'd Greece, Ulysses, speak As highly for thy zeal as for thy courage. I have full faith in thee. Yet recollect That when you held the passes of Mount Cnemis, The very gates of Greece — You left them so unguarded, that the Turks Rush'd like a torrent in, and swept Boeotia. Is it then strange that this neglect should breed Some little doubt of thy sincerity ? Blame not the Prince. ULYSSES. Mavrocordato is my enemy ; SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 49 And wliile he governs I shall fold my arms, And care not that, if he mistrust the motive. BOZZARIS. Should he denounce thee ? ULYSSES. I shall laugh at it. Within this cavern, so far up the mount That cannon cannot bear upon its entrance. And which no step can reach, till I consent, I bid defiance both to Greek and Turk. BOZZARIS. Ulysses hear me ; private feuds should yield To public duty. Greece, now sinking fast In this unequal struggle, calls on all To rally to the rescue. Yet how few x\rise and answer ; do not you desert her. True, our brave Admiral still scours the seas, And with Canaris — how I love that name — Hath cut off their supplies ; but there it rests. Boeotia, as of old, is veil'd in darkness ; The Turks have master'd the Acropolis ; While Attica, more lifeless than her marbles, Her primates profligate, her peasants poor, Sleeps on, nor dreams of vengeance. It drives me mad to see these cringing slaves — Lash'd too, like cattle, at the very base Of those proud columns where their ancestors Inscrib'd the rights of man. ULYSSES. Expect no change, . Till we have plac'd the helm of state in hands More fit to guide it. How collect an army, When destitute of means ? 5 50 BOZZAEIS. [act IV. BOZZARIS. How destitute ? "We have, I must confess, no well fill'd coffers ; But we have hands, and if our hearts were with them. What man could doubt the issue ? ULYSSES. Were our hearts tJnited, still our blood would flow in vain. See the barbaric hordes array 'd against us — What fearful odds ! while Christendom looks on Unmov'd, unpitying. BOZZARIS. Yet her chivalry Are up, and arming in the sacred cause. E'en now a small but gallant band is with us ; The warrior of England and of Gaul, The Pole, the soldier from the land of Tell, And from that distant land across the seas, Freedom's last home — the land of Washington I ULYSSES. Thy zeal hath got the better of thy judgment ; ''Twill be a losing game. It is a prize Not worth contending for. Why, Greece herself hath been in chains so long. She likes the rattle. She's a feeble crone, So wasted by disease and penury, If set upright, she'd stumble in her walk, Without a Turkish crutch. BOZZARIS. This from a Greek ? But hold, thy youth was passed At Yanina with Ali ; no fit school To learn a freeman's rights, and even less To learn what Hellas hath been. Go where you will o'er this ill-fated land, SCENE III.] BOZZARIS, 51 'Tis full of recollections. There's not a vale so lonely but can boast Its towerinoj column on a well fouo;bt field, Or urn that marks a soldier's sepulchre. Methinks the veriest coward as he pass'd, In his disastrous flight, these mighty graves, Would feel unwonted fires — And, with uplifted blade, would turn and charge, To conquer or to fall I [enter soldier.'] SOLDIER. A stranger, dress'd In Turkish garb, is in the outer room, And asks admittance. ULYSSES. Tell him I am busy — It cannot be. \_exit soldier.'] MUSTAPHA, [without] I care not, stand aside. [as he enters, Bozzaris retires up the stage.'] I am not wont to wait the beck and call Of other men, when even at Stamboul ; Much less when in the cavern of a Gaiour. ULYSSES, Thy name was not announc'd. MUSTAPHA. It matters not. Thou did'st appoint this meeting, and I come To hold thee to thy offers. ULYSSES, [agitated."] We will speak Of this anon — there is another here. MUSTAPJffA . T mai'k'd him ; if a follower, bid him go,. 52 BOzzARis. [act IV. ULYSSES. He is not yet a follower, but — MUSTAPHA. If foe, Then strangle him ! this is no middle ground, Where men can wear two faces. ULYSSES. He is one Skilful and brave, an old companion ; one Who hath such influence with those in arms. That could I but withdraw him from the cause. And I have hopes, our triumph would be certain. MUSTAPHA. Is he not in thy power ? then wherefore dally ? Offer him rank and wealth ; if he reject them, Crush him. I'll speak to him myself. Ul4YSS£S. Not now — It will not answer. MUSTAPHA. I'm to judge of that, And not Ulysses. Soldier, who art thou ? BOzzARis, [advancing. '\ Thine enemy. ULYSSES, [aside.'] That word may work my ruin. Into what labyrinths my crime hath drawn me. MUSTAPHA* An enemy, forsooth I' I think thy tongue Would not have utter'd it, if thou had'st known me» BOZZARIS. I know thee as a tyrant's willing tool — ' As one of Mahmoud's bloodhounds, destin'd soon SCENE ni.] BOZZARIS, 53 To taint our soil with your vile carcasses, Unless you seek your kennel. MUSTAPHA. By Allah, dost thou beard me ? then thy hours Are number'd. Know that I am the Seraskier. BOZZARIS. And I, Bozzaris ! MUSTAPHA. Ha ! the Suliote chief ! I thank the Prophet that my scimitar At length can reach thee. ULYSSES. This is neutral ground. BOZZARIS. I hold it such, if I'm allow'd free passage ; If not, I'll make one. Moslem, I must pass. MUSTAPHA. Never, but o'er this body ! BOZZARIS. Be it so ! [ Combat — Mustapha falls, disarm'' d. ] I grant thy wretched life on one condition ; Give me thy signet — (^uick ! MUSTAPHA. By Allah, never ! BOZZARIS. The signet ! At the mountain's base, thy guard Of fierce Albanians wait thy coming ; I Must pass them unmolested. Once for all, Thy signet ? MUSTAPHA. Dog; I spit upon thee ! ULYSSES. Yield it, your Highness. I entreat thee yield it, 54 BOZZAEIS. [act IV. \^Mustapha starts to his feet, and stretches Ms hands towards JBozzarisJ] MUSTAPHA. I'll have thee yet ! foil'd-— I sball choke with rage ! [^SinJcs, convulsed, into the arms of Ulysses, who takes off the ring, and hands it to JBozzaris.~} TJI^YSSES, Take it and fly, BOZZARIS. For this thou hast . — my pity ; Now I am free ! [^JSxit.'J ACT V. SCENE I. Time^ Evening. The Greek Camp at Carpenitza ; Bozzaris discovered seated in his tent. BOZZARIS. My child, my lost Eudora ! I have striven To drive thee from my memory ; but that face, So like thy mother's^ bids a father's tears Blot out the stain of thy ingratitude, And I can see thee now, as when array'd In purity and truth. 0, why condemn In my poor countrymen their want of love For Grreece, when even my own blood deserts her. \_Enter Staikos, Javella and Officers hurriedly.^ STAIKOS. The Ottoman will have us on the hip. Our men who occupi'd the Eastern pass, Are rushing into camp ; compell'd to fly Before their countless masses. BOZZARIS. Cravens all ! They should have stood their ground at every hazard. But that upon the West is not yet lost. And, while my own brave Suliotes guard the pass, Will not be lightly won. JAVELLA. I fear the worst. An overwhelming force hath gain'd their rear, Such is the flying rumor, and if true. They must ere long abandon it. BOZZARIS. Ha, is it so ? then the huge serpent soon, 56 BozZARis. [act V. Unless we strike, will have us in his coils. Comrades, 'tis idle to conceal it longer, There is no hope of succour. Our reliance Must be upon ourselves. The Turks in force Are now before us ; and against such odds, To offer battle in the light of day, Would be sheer madness. If we would retreat, The mountain gorge is still in our possession. And will afford a passage to the North. But what would follow — what but infamy ? Our fields laid waste by fire and sword, and Greece Forever fallen ! What shall be our course ? Comrades, speak out. STAIKOS. Bozzaris, give the word ; We follow — ay to death. BOZZARIS. Then at them ere the dawn ! This night I will myself explore their camp, And find where best we can effect an entrance. That done, I will conduct a chosen band Into their very centre : while the rest, In ambush near, and ready for the onset, Shall, at the bugle's signal, rise and charge Our tyrants as they lay. Ere midnight watch, Be each man at his post. Away, and make Each shining blade the blade of an Avenger ! \Exeunt.'\ SCENE II. Time^ Night. Turhish Camp at a distance. A Tower ; a Mute guarding the entrance. Enter Londos. LONDOS. That Zaimis hath escap'cl me. Well, he got A poison 'd wound in token of remembrance, SCENE II.] BOZZARIS. 67 While Fontoumaris sleeps, if sleep lie can, In the deep dungeons of this gloomy tower. Give me the keys — thou can'st retire and rest Till the Muezzin's voice- awakes to prayer. But stay — the female captives— in what room Are they secur'd ? [Mute points to windoiv.'] 'Tis well ; — my Nubian, Massoud, will watch, so leave thy yataghan. \_Exit Mute.'] Now to release my prisoner from his troubles. By a home thrust. He may escape me else — Or, what is worse, turn renegade, as I did, And balk me of my prize. This yataghan. Left by his side and bloody, will be sure To fix suspicion on the mute. [Cha7iges loeapons and enters the tower; a moment after, enter Fontoumaris hy the same door."] FONT. The door unlock'd and open ! is it real. After the long and weary hours I've pass'd In digging through these vaults, and ere a gleam Of light shot in to cheer me ! And this weapon, When all defenceless ! I've not merited A Providence like this, since yielding up My honor and my all. Th' incarnate fiend 1 To work me up to madness, and then seek To crush both soul and body. Ha ! there are Approaching footsteps ; I will hide myself In some deserted chamber of the tower. [Exit.'] [Enter Bozzaris, disguised as a Turk, and Staihos, from opposite wings. ~\ STAIKOS. Yield thee, or die ! BOZZARIS, [parrying the blow.'] Good Staikos, harm me not. *5 58 BOzzARis. [act v. STAIKOS. 'Twas well I knew that voice ; the Moslem garb Might else have caus'd thy death. This blade of mine Hath a most strong antipathy to turbans. BOZZARIS. But wherefore here ? STAIKOS. Dost think that I can sleep, Knowing thy life in danger ? I'm a Suliote. BOZZARIS. And one whom I can trust — would there were more such. But calm thy fears ; the task, though hazardous, Is done. STAIKOS. And thou hast pry'd into their camp ? BOZZARIS. The very centre ; and so deep a sleep Hath seal'd their lids, that e'en the sentinels Seem drowsing at their posts. Now speed thee back. And bid our ranks gird for the final effort ; I'll join them ere array 'd. STAIKOS. When duty calls. One must be quick to outstrip Andreas Staikos. [Exit.'] BOZZARIS. This tower seems tenantless — and yet, so near The Turkish camp, they should have guarded it. Strange oversight ! 'Twill serve us as a landmark. And while it screens from sight th' advancing columns. Will deaden the rattle of our arms. [Enter Londos from the tower.'] LONDOS. Massoud ! why this delay ? I've waited for thee. If thou must mutter to thyself, then choose SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 59 Some fitter moment ; for our victim sleeps, And time is precious. BOZZARIS, \_aside.'] 'Tis the traitor Londos — I tliank thee, Heaven ! LONDOS. Dost thou hear me, slave ? BOZZARIS. Not slave, but dupe, for trusting to a traitor ; But dupe no longer — thus I free myself. [_ Crosses blades with Londos.'] LONDOS. What devil thwarts me ? Ha, it is Bozzaris ! BOZZARIS. Yes, to thy cost; die with thy sins upon thee ! [^Londos falls .] Greece, thou hast one foe less, and he the blackest ! - Now to rejoin my comrades, and prepare For the last struggle. iVnd, like him of old, Who clasp'd the pillars 'mid exulting foes. If doom'd to perish, we will bow ourselves, And perish all together ! [^Exit.~\ SCENE in. Time, night. A chamber in the tower. Ida discovered on a couch, and Eudora standing near. IDA. Eudora, art thou near ? come, let me hear Thy gentle voice again — and feel thy hand. This room, how dark it is — relight the lamp. EUDORA. 'Tis burning now, dear Ida. 60 EOZZARIS. [act V. IDA. Burning, said'st thou ? And I not see it ! dotli it not burn dimly ? Thou dost not answer me — speak, speak, Eudora ! Is death so near — hath the hour come for parting ? EUDORA. Have mercy, Heaven ! IDA. Thanks ; that prayer of thine, Dear cousin, will be granted. 0, the wrongs That I have sufFer'd, and the long, long hours Of bitter agony which wrung my soul After they tore me from thee, will be weigh'd By One both just and gracious. EUDORA. Thou wilt live ^ Live to return to our dear home. IDA. Return, But not in life — I feel that I am dying. But let not my remains skep always here, So far from all I lov'd. Let me return — To mingle with the cherish'd dust of Suli ; "Where thou and thine can visit Ida's grave. EUDORA. Thou shalt — thou shalt ! IDA. I bless thee for that word. Dearest, farewell ! one kiss, then — ^Dies.] EUDORA. Ida speak ! What, lost to me ! Am I alone alone — [_Sinks hy the couch. Enter Fontoumaris.l Who would disturb the chamber of the dead ? SCENE III.] BOZZARIS. 61 Retire, intruder, whosoe'er thou art, And leave me to my loneliness. FONT. Eudora here, and weeping ? Can it be ! My love, my life, art thou so crush'd with grief As not to know me ? EUDORA, [rising.'] Know thee, Fontoumaris ! I know thee when too late — had it been earlier, What nights of agony, what bitter tears Might have been spar'd me. FONT. Thou hast been deceiv'd : That villain Londos — EUDORA. Hold, I know it all. Thy base betrayal, thy apostacy. Are graven here in characters so deep, They cannot be effac'd. FONT. I can explain — EUDORA. Away, away ! is this to be explain'd ? [^points to Ida.'] FONT. Ida, and dead ! EUDORA. Ay, murder'd ; and by thee ! For 'twas thy treachery that caus'd it allr I marvel not that thou dost turn away. False to thy love, thy country and thy faith. FONT. Not false to thee, Eudora, nor my faith ; Though deep in infamy, not yet so low. 6 62 B z z A R I s . [act v. EUDORA. Thy garb confirms it. FONT. It was forc'd upon me. EUDORA. Was my betrayal also forc'd, and then The murder of this innocent ? Away, Nor mock me more ! FONT. Eudora, had'st thou lov'd As I have lov'd, and knew what damning means Were urg'd to my undoing, thou would'st pardon. EUDORA. Speak not of love ; thy lips profane the name. How I have lov'd, how trusted, how confided, A woman's heart might answer — no one else. Speak not of pardon — that, alone, {_ points to Ida,"] shuts out All hope of it ; and, were she still alive, The thought that one to whom I gave my heart. Had turn'd a traitor and a renegade. Would banish him forever ! FONT. Say what thou wilt, except that I am false To thee and to my faith. EUDORA. If I am wrong. Then verify thy words. Fly, give to Greece The remnant of thy days and I'll not hate thee. FONT, [rushing out.^ My life-blood on the issue. EUDORA. Pride, Pride, thou hast borne me up ; but now I feel I am a woman still. [sinks fainting .'] SCENE IV.] BOZZARIS. 63 SCENE IV. Night. The Turkish Camp. Enter Bozzaris and Soldiers. BOZZARIS. The hand of Heaven is with us ! here we stand, Amid our foes, unscath'd and unsuspected ; Even their guard allowing us to pass As their Albanian allies, sent hy Omer. Be firm, yet silent, till our friends without, Answer the bugle's signal — give it breath ! \_Bugle sounds — hurrah without. "l That welcome shout — they come ! The dead of by gone ages now look down From their proud monuments to mark our actions ! Their voices cheer us ! Forward ! charge and strike For altar and for hearth-stone. \_JExeunt. Alarum. Turks cross the stage pursued hy Greeks. Enter Ahdallah, follow- ed hy Staikos.'] STAIKOS. Now, by St. Luke, I'll teach thee how to pass By a new rule — tierce, carte, quinte, flanconnade — The schoolmaster's abroad ; one Andreas Staikos. [Exeunt fighting. Re-enter Bozzaris and Soldiers."] BOZZARIS. On comrades on ! the tent of the Pashaw ! [As soldiers rush out, Mustapha enters from opposite wing.] MUSTAPHA. He waits thee here. BOZZARIS. The tyrant I am seeking. Thou hast no neutral ground, as in the cave Where last we met, to save thee from my vengeance. MUSTAPHA. That taunt of thine hath nerv'd my arm to wield 64 BozzARis. [act v. The Prophet's scimitar ; thy life or mine. [ Combat, Mustapha falls . ] The angel Asrael smote me — not a Giaour. [^dies.^ BOZZARIS. Thus perish all the enemies of freedom. [^JEJnfer Staikos, Javella and Soldiers. ~\ Behold the tyrant's minion ! Now once more Aid me, to grapple in this strife of death, And victory is ours ! [ Gun fired, and Bozzaris^ falling , is supported hy Staikos.'] STAIKOS. That fatal shot ! Why did it not strike here and end a life, I value now as nothing ! [Enter Eudora."] EUDOEA. Am I deceiv'd — that surely was his voice ! [sees Eozzaris.'] And is it thus we meet — what woe is mine ! 0, speak to me ? it is thine own Eudora, And sent in mercy — for a daughter's bosom Should be thy pillow. BOZZARIS. Off ! thou art dishonor'd. EUDORA. Hold ! thou dost wrong my mother by that word. Nay, thou dost wrong thyself — I am thy child, And honor is my birthright. T would not Outlive its loss — I could not if I would. BOZZARIg, How cam'st thou here ? EUDORA, Not of mine own free will. Deceiv'd by one in whom I fondly trusted ; By one who stated such was your command, And who held out your signet to confirm it, SCENE IV.] BOZZARIS. 65 I left the camp, as I supposed, for Corfu. But different was our course, and on our way We were betraj'd and captur'd. Yet till now, Though closely guarded by the Seraskier, I have been free from insult. BOZZARIS. Come nearer — for mine eyes grow dim, and I Would see that face again. It is thy mother's, And bears the stamp of truth. I do believe thee, And thus believing, die at last content. EUDORA. Nay speak not thus — of dying ; thou must live For my sake, for thy country's. BOZZARIS. No, 'tis over. A few days more of life I could have wish'd. To aid my country in her glorious struggle ; But of what consequence, one more or less ! [^Hurrah without. Enter Suliotes led hy Fontoumaris, mor- tally wounded, in a Greek dress and hearing a Turkish banner. He totters towards Bozzaris — lays the trophy at his feet, and kneels beside it.~\ roNT. Bozzaris, I have err'd, but here is proof I die no traitor — can'st thou pardon me ? BOZZARIS. Ill fated youth ! this banner wipes away The blot on thy escutcheon, and doth win Forgiveness ere 'tis ask'd. FONT. Eudora, then Thou wilt fulfil thy promise and — '^ not hate "me. \dies.'\ \jEudora covers her face.~\ ^Q BOZZARIS. [act V. BOZZARIS. Grone, where I soon must follow Hm 'tis welL I will not ask thee to protect my child ; Staikos, I know thou wilt. STAIKOS. Staikos ! there is no Staikos — he was lost In losing thee ! He shed no tears as I do. He was a soldier, too, while I am one A child might drive to th' wall — a poor old man, And broken hearted. BOZZARIS. Nay, mourn not my fall ! What nobler exit can a soldier wish, Than to die, battling for his country's rights, With Victory on his standard ! [^Hurrah without.'] That wild hurrah ! it is our battle cry — Bozzaris to the rescue ! up and charge Once more for Hellas ! [Starts to his feet, endeavors to advance, and falls a corpse ^1 FINIS. ,^{ ^\:^l BOZZAKIS: A TRAGEDY/IN FIYE ACTS. BY N. DEEKING. .^ C 32 89 ^ ^'" • ^ ^ . ■» <^ *»n'o^* ,4*^ ^AO^ ^oK 'Cn<^' v^-s ^AO^ ^^^° o » o ' /ti^ O K O I B cP' .' HECKMAN It| BINDERY INC. I«l DEC 88