PR 4599 D59f A t= A o ^^^ en o X = 30 == 3J O o =!i^^= 7 = > 5 65 4 JO > ^^^^ 33 4 J> 3 O ^M^i^ 5 2 ^^ 1 Dlmond The Foundling of the Forest THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES '^ / A THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST: A PLAY, IN THREE ACTS. AS NOW PERFORMfNO AT THB THEATRE ROY AL, HAYMARKET, WITH THE MOST DISTINGUISHED SUCCESS. By WILLIAM DIMOND, ESQ. -til I .. AUTHOR OF ' ADRIAN AND ORRILA,' * HERO OF THE NORTh/ ' HUNTER OF THE ALPS,' &C. &C. " And yet poor Edwin was no vnlgar boy." Beattie. LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 1809. INSCRIPTIVE LINES TO Mrs. SOPHIA LEE. 3 t^i ^ Lady, rever*d and lov'd ! whose forceful lyre Wak'd in my boyish heart its earliest fire, First touch'd its passions into joy or woe, Till Fancy flushed with emulation's glow. Lady ! whom every Muse conspires to crown With chariest honors, and a late renown, Who rov'st a minstrel free, thro' untrac'd bowers. And twin'st historic shades with fiction's flowers, Jjady ! tho' golden chords obey thy hand. And / may scarce one vocal reed command, Tho* tiiou on Fame's enthroning height dost reign, Whilst envious bounds my ba3ed steps detain. Yet, Lady ! deign thy smile, nor yet refuse This lowly tribute of a lowlier Muse ; From thee, my Foundling Boy implores a name, From thee, whose smile is joy, whose praise is fame. William Dimond. July 19, 1809. DRAMATIS PERSONiE. Count de Valmont Mr. Young Baron Longueville Mr. Eyre. Florian, a Foundling adopted hy De Valmont Mr. Jones. Bertrand, Valet to Longueville . . . Mr. Farley. L'Eclair, Valet to Florian .... Mr. Liston. Gaspard, an old domestic Mr. Grove. Sanguine, "> Bravoesin the pay of C Mr. Smith. Mr. Noble. Sanguine, "> Bravoes in the pay of C Lenoir, ) Longueville. \ Geraldine, Niece to De Valmont . . Mrs. Gibbs. Rosabelle, her woman Mrs. Liston. Monica, an old peasant Mrs. Davenport. Unknown Female ...... Mrs. Glover. Domestics Peasants Dancers, Sfc. Sfc. SCENE. The Chateau de Valmont and its environs, situ- ate in the upper Alsace, near the river Rhine. The Music incidental to the play, composed by Mr, Kelly, THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. ACT I. SCENE I. A Hall in the Chateau de Valmont. Enter BertraND, in agitation, followed by LONGUEVILLE. Bertrand. r ORBEAR, my lord ! to urge me further. Would you tempt me to ensure perdition? my soul is heavy enough with weight of crimes al- ready. Long. Hypocrite ! You, whom I have known in childhood a villain even from the cradle com- mitting crimes as pastimes has j^our hand been exercised thus long in blood, to shake with con- science, and desert me now ? Bert. I have indeed deserved reproaches, but not from your lips, my lord ! Remember, for you it was this hand was first defiled with blood re- member, too Long. Yes, villain! I do remember, that my misplaced bounty once gave you back a forfeit life. Twenty years past, when as a deserter you were sentenced by the regiment under my com- B 2 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. mand to death, your fate was inevitable, had not I vouchsafed a pardon. Traitor ! you, too, had best remember a solemn oath at that same period passed your lips, which bound you, soul and body, to my service ever unscrupling to perform my pleasures, whether good or ill, and still to hold my secrets fast from earthly ears, tho' unabsolving priests renounced you on the death-bed ! Bert, (shuddering). Aye! aye! it was an oath of horror, and if you command, it must be kept. Well, then the young, the brave, the good, kind- hearted Florian yes he dies ! Long. Then only may your mastef be esteemed to live. Bert. But whence this hatred to an unoffending youth ? one, whose form delights all eyes, and whose virtues are the theme of every tongue ? Long. Fool ! that person and those virtues of which you vaunt, are with me his worst offences they have undone my love and marred my fortunes the easy heart of Geraldine is captivated by the stripling's specious outside, while his talents and achievements secure him with the uncle undivided favor. Bert. Can nothing but his blood appease your enmity ? Long. Nothing for now my worst suspicions stand confirmed. I have declared to De Valmont my passion for his niece, and the sullen visionary has denied my suit nay, insolently told me, " Geraldine's affections are another's right." Curses on that minion's head ! 'tis for Florian De Valmont's heiress is reserved and shall I suf- fer this vile foundling, this child of charity, to lord it over those estates, for which my impatient soul has paid a dreadful earnest ! No by heavens ! never ! Bert. Fatal avarice ! already have we bartered for those curst estates our everlasting peace I for THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. $ those did midnight flames surprise the sleep of in- nocence for those did the sacrificed Eugenia with her shrieking babe Long. Wretch ! dare not repeat those names ! ^ Now, mark me! this night Florian returns^ri- />Cr umpher from his campaign two of my trusty :^ blood-hounds watch the road to give me timely note of his approach. One only follower attends the youth. In the thick woods 'twixt the Chateau and Huningen, an ambush safely laid, may end my rival and my fears for ever. In the west ave- nue, at sun-set, I command your presence. Mark me ! I command you, by your oath. [Exit, Bert. Miserable man! I am indeed a slave, soul and body both are in the thrall ! I know the fiend I serve. If I attempt to fly, his vengeful agency pursues me to the world's limit. No my doom is fixt I must remain the very wretch I am for life-^and after life. Oh i let me not think of that! Enter ROSABELLE behind, who taps his shoulder. Bos. Talking to yourself, Mr. Bertrand ? that's not polite in a lady's company. Bert, (starting J. Ah! Rosabelle good lass! how art, Rosabelle ? Ros. Why, Mr. Bertrand, how pale you look, and your limbs quite tremble I fear me you are ill Bert. Oh, no I am well quite well never better. Bos. Then you are out of spirits. Bert, You mistake I am all happiness ha! ha! all joy! Bos. What ! because the wars are over, and Chevalier Florian returns to us ?- -'tis a blest hear- B2 4 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. ing, truly after all the hardships and dangers her has passed, to see him once again in safety Bert, (involuntarily). Ah ! would to heaven we might ! Ros. Can there be any doubt ? .He reaches the Chateau this night will he not be in safety then ^ Bert. Yes, yes, with this night every danger certainly will cease. ;, Ros. Bertrand ! why do you rub your hand be- fore your eyes ? surely you are weeping. Bert. No, 'tis a momentary pain that but 'twill leave me soon. At night, Rosabelle, you shall see me jovial -joyous ! we'll dance together, wench aye, and sing then ^ha 1 ha ! ha !- then who so mirthful whoso mad, as Bertrand? [Exit. Ros. What new spleen has bewitched the man? ^he is ever in some sullen mood, with scowling brows, or else in a cross-armM fit of melancholy; but I never marked such wildness in his looks and words before. [Geraldine speaks without. Ger. Rosabelle. Ros. Here, my lady in the hall. Enter Geraldine. Ger. Girl ! I have cause to chide you ; my toi- lette must be changed ^you have dressed me vilely here ! remove these knots I hate their fashion. Ros. Yet they are the same your ladyship com- mended yesterday. Ger. Then 'tis the color of my robe offends me these ornaments are a false match to it either all the mirrors in the house have warped since yes- terday, or never; did I look so ill before. Ros. Now, in my poor judgment, you rarely have looked better. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 5 "Ger. Out! fool ^you have no judgment. Ros. Well, fool or not, there's one upon the Toad who holds faith with me, or I'm a heretic. Your charms will shine bright enough, lady, to dazzle a soldier's eye. Ger. Ah ! no, Rosabelle you would deceive your mistress. Florian returns not as he left us his travelled eyes have gazed on beauties of the po- lished court and now he will despise the wild un- tutored Geraldine. Ros. Will he ? Let him beware he shews not his contempt before me. What ! my own beauti- ful and high-born mistress ^the greatest heiress in all Alsace to be despised by a foundling, picked up in a forest, and reared upon her uncle's charity? - Oer, Hush ! the mystery of my Florian's birth is his misfortune, but cannot be his reproach. Our countrymen may dispute his title to command, but our enemies have confessed his power to con- quer; and trust me, girl, the brave man's laurel blooms with as fresh an honor in the poor peasant's cap as when it circles princely brows nay. Justice deems it of a nobler growth, for Flattery often twines the laurel round a coronet, but Truth alone bestows it on the unknown head ! Ros. I confess the Chevalier is a proper gallant for any woman. Aye, and so is the Chevalier's man. I warrant me, that knave, L' Eclair, when he returns, will follow me about, wheedling and whining, to recollect certain promises. Well, well, let but the soldiers return with whole hearts from the war, and your ladyship and myself know how to reward fidelity. In sooth, the Chateau has been but a doleful resideftce in their absence ; the Count never suffered his dwelling to be a merry one; but of late his strange humours have so in- creased, that the household might as well have lodged in purgatory. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. Ger. Hold ! I must liot hear my uncle's name pronounced with levity. An angel at his birth, mingled the divine spirit with less than human frailty, but fiends have since defaced the noble work with more tjian human trials. That fatal night, when the fierce Huguenots fired his castle, and buried both his wife and infant in the blazing ruin; that night of horrors has to his shocked and shrinking fancy still been ever present there still it broods settled, perpetual and alone ! Ah ! Rosabelle ! the petulancies of misfortune claim our pity, not resentment. My dear uncle is a recluse, but not a misanthrope ^ he rejects the society of mankind, yet is he solicitous for their happiness; and while his own heart breaks in silence under a weight of undivided sorrows, does he not seek in- cessantly to alleviate the burthen of his complain- ing brethren ? Ros. T know the Count has an excellent hearty but surely his temper has its flaws. i Ger. And shall we deem the sun that che^ the season less gracious in its course, because a cloud at intervals may hide or chill its beams? (A hell rings). Hark ! 'tis the bell of his chamber. Perhaps he will admit me now for four days past I have applied at the door in vain. Ah ! me these constant growing maladies sometimes make me tremble for his life. Girl ! if from the turret- top at distance you espy the hastening travellers, turn, swift as thought, and call me to partake your watch! [Exit. Bos. If they arrive before sun-set, I'm sure I shall know L'Elair a mile off by the saucy top of his head before that rogue went on the campaign, he certainly extorted some awkward kind of pro- mise from me. As a woman of honor, I'm afraid it must be kept I don't want a husband oh ! no, positively To be sure, winter is coming on TH^ FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. % my chamber faces the north, and when the nights are long, and dark, and cold, when the wind blusters, and the hail patters at the casement, then a solitary woman is apt to have strange fancies, and sometimes to wish that well, well my pro- mise must be kept at all events. S01' :> mil- Enter Gaspard. De Val. So ! am I heard ! Old man ! to what strange dwelling have I been borne while sleeping? and who is your new master ? Gas. Alack ! your lordship is in your own fair castle, nor other master than yourself do I, or any of my fellows serve a kind and noble master. De Val. You tell me wonders I thought the master in his house had borne command among his people, but here it seems, each groom is more abso- lute in his humors than the lord How is't ? do I clothe and feed a pampered herd, but to encrease my torments ? When I would muse in privacy, must 1 be baited still, and stunned with crowds and clamors ? Knave ! drive the rabble from my gate, and rid my ears of discord. Gas. Well-a-day! who could have foreseen this anger ? My good lord 'tis but your tenantry rejoicing this morning, I distributed your lord- ship's bounty among them to celebrate Chevalier Florian's return," and now, the honest grateful souls would fain thank their benefactor by the song that tells him they are happy, De Val. Their thanks are hateful to me unge- nerous wretches ! is it not enough that they are happy whilst I am miserable, but they must mock my anguish by a saucy pageant of their joys, and force my shrinking senses more keenly to remark the contrast of our fates? ( Tabors y S(c. without.) Quick! quick! begone and drive them from my gate (stamps imperatively). THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST, d Gas. (frighted) I am gone, my lord! I am gone. De Val. Hold ! another word perhaps the un- thinking creatures might design this torture kindly, and I would not punish the mistakes of ignorance. Do not dismiss them harshly I would have them indulge their gaiety, but I cannot bear to be a witness of it. Gaspard, this house is melancholy's chosen home ; and it's devoted master's heart, like a, night-bird that abhors the animating sun, has been so long familiarized to misery, it sickens and recoils at the approach of mirth. Gas. (pressing his hand) My kind, unfortunate, my beloved master! De Val. (snatching it fro?n hijn) 'PshB,w \ I loathe pity (shoutsj hark ! again ! go, go, send them from the gate, but not harshly. [Exit Gaspard. De Val. All hearts rejoicing mine only miser- able! Every peasant yielding to delight, their lord alone devoted to despair a subtle, slow de- spair that, drop by drop, congeals the blood of life, yet will not bid the creeping current quite forbear to flow that has borne its victim just to the se- pulchre's tempting edge, but holds him there to envy, not partake its slumbers. Well ! well ! your own appointed hour, just heavens ! if it be the in- firmity of man to repine here, it is the christian's hope to rejoice hereafter. Re-enter Gaspard. Gas. I've sent them hence they'll not be heard again but since they may not thank, they are gone to pray for you Mass ! 1 had nigh forgotten young Madam Geraldine is in the anti-room, and waits to see your lordship. De Val. Admit her \ (Exit Gaspard) My gen- 10 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. tie one ! my desolate, orphan maid, if any soften- ing drop were yet permitted in my cup of bitters, I think the affectionate hand of Geraldine would mingle and prepare it for my lip. Enter Geraldine. rer. (Tenderly embracing him) Ah! my dear, dear uncle! how am I rejoiced by a permission to visit you again ^for four long days you have se- cluded yourself, and indeed I have been so dis- tressed but I will not speak of past anxieties now War restores its hero to our vows Florian re- turns to us are not you quite happy, uncle ? De Val. Happy ? I ? my good child do not mock me. Ger. Nay, could I intend De Val. Well ! let it pass ^you it seems, my Geraldine, are really happy ^your lips confess much, but your eyes still betray more niece, you love my adopted Florian. Ger. Love ! fye, uncle Oh yes, yes, I do cer- tainly love him like a brother. DeVaL Something better. Suppose I should offer this Florian to you as a husband. Ger. (looking down demurely.) I never presume to dispute my dear uncle's commands. De Val. Little equivocator ! answer me strictly -do you not wish to become his wife ? Ger. Indeed, I never yet have asked my heart that question. De Val. But if Florian married any other wo- man, would you not hate the object of his pre- ference ? Ger. (throtving herself upon his neck.) Ah! uncle, you have my secret No, I would not hate my fortunate rival I would pray for her happiness, but my heart would break while it breathed that prayer ! TKE FOUNPLING OF THE FOREST, kl De Vol. My excellent ingenuous child, indulge the virtuous emotions of your heart without dis- guise Florian and Geraldine are destined for each other. Ger. Generous benefactor! 'what delightful dazzling visions your words conjure up to my ima- gination the universe^will concentrate within the fairy circle of our heaftli a yaking consciousness of bliss will ever freshFy dress our day in flowers, and at nights, fancy will gild our pillow with the dream that merrily anticipates the future. V De Val. Enthusiast! you contemplate the ocean in a calm, nor dream how frightfully a. tem^ pest ma}'^ reverse the picture. Ger. Ambitious pride may tremble at the storm, but true love, uncle, never can be wrecked -its constancy is strengthened, not impaired by trials, and when adversity divorces us from common friend- ships, the chosen partners of each other's hearts a second time are married, and with dearer rites. De Val. (averting his fade with a look of anguish.) Girl ! Ger. (unnoticing his emotion) Then if they have children, how surpassing is the bliss, while their own gay prime is mellowly subsiding into age, to trace the features and the virtues they adored in youth, renewed before their eyes, and feel them- selves the proud and grateful authors of each other's joy Ah ! trust me, uncle ! such a destiny is be- yond the reach of fortune's malice, 'tis the anti- type of heaven. De Val. (Grasping her hand suddenly, convulsed with agitation.) 'Tis the distracting mockery of hell that cheats us with an hour's ecstatic dream to torture us eternally Girl ! girl ! would'st thou find happiness die ! seek it in the grave only in the grave a watchful fiend destroys it upon earth I Prat'st thou of love? Connubial and parental tove. IQ THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST, Ah ! dear-lov'd objects of my soul ! what are ye now ashes ashes, darkly scattering to the mid- night winds. God ! the flames yet blaze here here my brain's on fire ! [Rushes out. Ger. Uncle ! listen to your Geraldine ! Ah ! ingrate that I am ! the vulture that gnaws his ge- nerous heart, had slumbered for a moment, and I have waked it to renew its cruelty ! my fault was unawares, yet I could chide it like a crime ; my mounting spirits fall from their giddy height at once. Oh ! uncle ! noble, suffering uncle ! would that my tears could wash away the recollection of my words. [Weeps. De Valmont suddenly returns and embraces Ge- raldine. De Val. Geraldine ! dear child, forgive me ! my violence has terrified your gentle nature. I would not pain you, love, for worlds ; but I am not always master of myself, and my passions will sometimes break forth rebellious to my reason, pity and forgive the infirmities of grief. Ger. Ah ! Sir. (Attempts to kneel.) De Val. (Preventing her, and kissing her fore- head.) Bless you, my good and innocent child ; nay, do not speak to me, my happiness is lost for ever, but I can pray for yours. Bless you, my child! bless you ever. [Breaks from her, and exit. Ger. My, happiness ! ah ! if the exalted vir- tues of a soul like yours, my uncle, despair of the capricious boon, how shall the undeserving Ge- raldine presume to hope ? i; Enter ROSABELLE. Ros. Oh ! my lady, such news, he's arrived, he's in the hall. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 13 Ger. My Florian? Ros. No, Lady, not your Florian, but my L'Eclair, not quite so great a hero as his master to be sure, but yet a real, proper, mettlesome sol- dier every inch ; he looks about him among the men so fierce and so warlike ; then with the wo- men, he's so impudent, and so audacious j oh 1 he's a special fellow. L'Eclair speaks without. VEc. Here's a set of rascals ! no discipline ? no subordination in the house ? eh ! look to the baggage, curry down my charger ! hem 1 ha ! Enter L'ECLAIR. Your Ladyhip's devoted servant, ever in the foremost rank ! never did a nine-pounder traverse the enemy's line with more promptitude than I, Philippe L'Eclair, unworthy private of the fifth Hussars, now fly to cast my poor person at your Ladyship's gracious feet. Ger. You are very welcome from the wars, L'Eclair, fame has spoken of you in your absence. UEc. Fye ! my Lady, you disorder me at the first charge, a pestilence now upon that wicked, impertinent gossip. Fame, will not her everlast- ing tongue suffer even so poor a fellow as L'Ec- lair, to escape ? 'tis insufferable may I presume to inquire then, what rumours have reached your Ladyship's ear ? Ger. To a soldier's credit, ^-Irust me. But your master, L'Eclair, where is he?') ; VEc. Ah! poor gentleman, he's in *he rear- r4 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOUEST. guard, I left him four leagues off, at the fortress of Huningen, unexpectedly confined by Ger. Confined ! heavens ! by what complaint. UKc. Only the complaint of old age ; the ge- neral commissioned my master upon his route to deliver some instructions to the superannuated Commandant of the fortress; now the old gentle- man proving somewhat dull of apprehension, my master, though dying of impatience, was con- strained to a delay of some extra hours, despatch- ing me, his humble ambassador, forward, to pre- vent ^larms, and promise his arrival at the Chateau before midnight. Ger. Midnight ! so late ? four leagues to travel alone ^his road through an intricate forest, and the sky already seeming to predict a tempest. VF.C. Why, as your ladyship remarks, the clouds seem making a sort of forced march over our heads; but a storm is the mere trifling of nature in a soldier's estimation ; my master and his humble servant have faced a cannon ball too fi-equently, to be disconcerted by a hail-stone. Ger. Then you have often been employed upon dangerous service, L'Eclair? VEc. Hay, I protest, your ladyship must ex- cuse me there, a man has so much the appear- ance of boasting, when he becomes the reporter of his own achievements ; I beg leave to refer your ladyship to the gazettes, though, I confess, the ga- zettes do but afford a soup-maigre, whip-syllabub sort of narrative, accurate enough, perhaps in the main, but plaguily incommunicative of particulars, for instance in the recent affair at Nordlingen, I can defy you to find any mention in the gazette, that the Chevalier Florian charged through a whole reeiment of the enemy's grenadiers, drawn up in a hollow square, that Philippe L'Eclair, singly followed the Chevalier, and rode over all those his master had not time to decapitate, how a masked THE FOUNDLING OP THE FOREST. 15 battery suddenly opened with twelve pieces of heavy ordnance, firing red-hot balls ; how the Chevalier's horse reared; how L'Eclair's neighed; bat how both officer and private, neither a whit discouraged at this dilemma, galloped their char- gers gracefully up to the flaming mouth of the danger; cleared a chevaux de frise of fifteen feet at a flying leap ; then dismounting ; carried the battery by a coup de main; spiked the guns; muzzled the gunners with their own linstocks ; and, finally compelled the principal engineer to turn cook, and grill a calf's head at his own furnace, for the dinner of his conquerors ! Now this affair, which had no small influence in determining the fortune of the day, with many parallel traits, our gazetteers have unaccountably neglected to pub- lish. My memory, perhaps, might remedy their deficiencies to any curious ear, but alas ! an in- surmountable modesty render's the task so painful, that I cast myself upon your ladyship's com- passion, and beseech you to forbear from further inquiry. Ger. Ha ! ha ! your sensitive delicacy shall be respected, L' Eclair, Rosabelle ; be it your care to make the defender of his country welcome at midnight then. Oh ! hasten on your flight, dark- wing'd hours! through your close shadows once disclose my Florian, then if ye list, be motionless, and still retard the day. [Exit. VEc. There, you hear young woman 1 you are to make the defender of his country welcome. Ros. I'll do my best towards your pleasure, what service can I lend you first ? VEc. Dress my wounds. Ros. Wounds ! gramercy ! I never should have guessed you had any. Z'Ec. Deep, dangerous, desperate, here! (affectedly pressing his heart/ here Rosabelle ! 16 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST., here's the malady ; 'tis an old hurt, I took it 'ere I went on my campaign ; time and absence had clapped an aukward sort of plaster on't ; but now oh 1 those eyes ! the wound breaks out afresh ; must I expire ? Rosabelle! prythee, be my surgeon. Ros. I have not the skill to prescribe, but I could administer a remedy by directions, what f alve will you try first ? VEc. Lip-salve, you gipsy ! (Kisses her fu- riously.) Ros. Now, shame upon your manners, master soldier, was this a trick taught you by the wars ? L'Ec. Yes, faith ! Saluting is one of the first lessons in a soldier's trade, so my dear, tempting, provoking, f Catches her round.) Ros. Hay, keep your hands off, you have taught me enough of the manual exercise already; but say now were you indeed so great a hero in the battle as you told my lady ? VEc. Pshaw I I did'nt tell her half, my mo- desty forbade, but for thee, my pretty Rosabelle. Ros. Aye, with me, I'm certain your modesty will be no obstacle. VEc. None, for while I gaze upon the face of an angel, the devil himself can't put me out of countenance. DUETTO. Itosabelle and L' Eclair. Ros. Tell, soldier, tell ! and mark, you tell me truly. How oft in battle have you slain a foe ? L'Ec. Go, count the leaves when winds are heard unruly. In autumn that from mighty forests blow. Ros. Did e'er a captain, worth a costly ransom. Own you his conqueror in the deadly broil ? L'Ec. I've twigg'd field-marshals, pickings snug and handsome. Twelve waggons now are loaded with my spoil. Both. Oh ! loudly, proudly, sound the soldier's fame ! Oh ! flashy, dashy, flaunt the soldier's dame ! THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 17 Ros. Tell, soldier, tell ! and mark, you tell me truly. Did foreign maids ne'er win your roving vow ? L'Ec. O ! blood and fire ! I swear I can't speak coolly ; By Mars I to you, and only you, I bow. Ros. Say, shall love's chain of blossoms hold for ever? Nor time, nor absence, bid its bloom depart ? VEc. Not sword, or gun, such magic links can sever. Or rend from Rosabelle her hero's heart. Both. O ! loudly, proudly, &c. SCENE III. A Front-wood, Stage very dark. Thunder and Lightning. Enter Longueville and Bertrand, the latter disguised and masqued. Long. Come, Sir, to your post ! what ! a cow- jwd even to the last ? you tremble. Bert. I do indeed, the storm is terrible, it seems as if Heaven's own voice were clamoring to forbid the deed. [Thunder, Long. This tumult of the night assists our en- terprise, ^its thunders will drown your victim's dying groan. Where have you placed the bra- vos? Bert. Hard by, just where the horse-road sinks into a hollow dell, and over-spreading branches almost choke the pass, there we may rush upon the wretched youth securely, and there our po- ghiards Long. Hush ! a footstep ! who passes there ? Enter \st Bravo. \st. Br. Sanguine ! Long. Wherefore are you here, and parted from your fellow ? \st Br. I left him lurking in the hollow, while I sought you out to ask advice. Just now, a c fl8 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. horse without a rider, burst furiously through the thicket where we layj the Hghtning flasiied brightly at the time, and I plainly marked the steed to be the very same young Florian rode, when we dogged him from the last inn, at sunset. Bert, (involuntarily) Merciful God ! then thou hast preserved him ! Long. Villain ! you may find your transports premature perchance he has dismounted to seek on foot some shelter from the increasing fury of the storm ; but 'tis impossible he should escape ; one only path conducts to the Chateau. Quick ! bestow yourselves on either side, and your victim's fate is certain. I must return to avoid suspicion. Ber. (catching his arm.) Yet, my lord, once more reflect. Long, (throwing him off.) Recollect your oath. Bert, (desperately.) Yes, yes, it must be written on my memory in characters of blood. [Exeunt separately. SCENE IV. Another part of the Forest more en* T tangled and intricate. Hie Tempest becomes via- lent, and the stage appears alternately illumined by the lightning, and enveloped in utter darkness. Florian is seen advancing cautiously through the thickets from a distance. Flor. A plague upon all dark nights, foul ways, and runaway horses ! a mettlesome madcap, to start at the lightning and plunge with me head over heels in the brushwood ; in scrambling out of that thicket, I certainly turned wrong, aiid have missed my road how to regain it ? 'sdeath ! I could as soon compose an almanack as find a clue to this puzzle Well I I was found in a wood when a baby, and have just lived to years of discretion to be lost in a wood again ! Fortune ! Fortune ! ^I'PE FQUNDJLING OF THE ^ORE^T. 1^ thou spiteful gipsy! was this an honest trick to pass upon a faithful servant, who has worn thy livery from his cradle, and taken ofT thy hands a thousand knocks and buffetings without a murmur ? Just at this moment too, when hope and fancy were dancing merrily, and had made the prettiest ball-room of my heart just too when the image of my Geraldine frairiy storm increases) but a truce with meditation, this pelting shower rather advises action (turns to an opening) No that can't be the path whichever way I turn I may only get farther entangled then there are pit-falls wolves bears ^yes! I've the prospect of a delectable night before me what if I exercise my lungs and call for help ? Oh ! there's scarcely a chance of being heard well, 'tis my forlorn hope and shall e'en have a trial. Holloa ! Holloa !- Holloa ! [a whistle answers from the right] Huzza ! somebody whistles from the right ! kind lady For- tune! never will I call thee names again, [another whistle from the opposite side.] Ha ! answered from the left too I Lucky fellow ! where are you my dear boys where are you ? -Florian runs toward the right a very vivid flash of lightning at that instant gleams upon the path before him, and displays the figure of a masqued Bravoe, Sanguine, zvith an unsheathed pogniard advancing between the trees, Florian recoils. Fhr. Ha ! a man armed and masqued ! per- haps some ruffian ! 'sdeath ! I am defenceless, my pistols were left in the saddle I Sanguine, (advancing) Who called? Flor. If I return no answer, in the darkness I may retreat unseen. [He creeps silently to the left as the bravo advances^] San. Speak ! where are you ? [2c?. bravo emerges from the gloom and directly crosses the path by which Florian is about to escape, C2t 20 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. ^^(?. Here ! (Thunder [Florian at the second voice discovers himself to he exactly betioeen the ruffians, and stops. Fhr. God ! ! \He recedes a single step, c^nd strikes his hand against a tree immediately behind him, the trunk of which is holtowed by time, and open towards the audience, 'Ha ! a tree I * [By his touch he discovers the aperture, and glides into the hollow, at the very instant the two bravos stepping forward quickly from either side of the tree, encounter each others extended hands in front. San. f raising his pogniard J Die \ '"^ Len. Hold ! 'tis I ^your comrade! San. Why did you not answer before, I took you for hark? [Bertrand comes through the trees from the top of the stage. 1 Bert. Hist ! Sanguine ! Lenoir ! San. Here ! both of us. Bert, f coming forward) Why did you whistle ? Sa7i. In answer to your call you hallooed to us. Bert. When? San. But now a minute back. Bert. I never spoke. San. I'll swear I heard a voice ^no doubt the but 'twas he that Bert. From what quarter did the cry proceed? San. 1 thought it sounded hereabouts, but the storm kept such a confounded patter at the- time Bert. Well let us take the left hand path and if we hear the call repeated San . Aye ! ou r daggers meet all questions with a keen reply. [Exeunt to the left^ Fbr. (extricating himself cautiously from the tree.) Eternal Providence, what have I heard? THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. fil Murderers then are upon the watch for me! no jio not for me. I cannot be the destined victim. I never yet offended a human being, and fiends themselves would not destroy without a cause for hatred. Heaven guard the threaten'd-one who- e'er he be ! Well prudence at least admonishes me to avoid the left hand path faith any turn but that must prove the right for me. Ha ! unless my eyes are cheated by a Will-o'th'-Wisp, a friendly light now peeps out thro' yonder coppice, (looking out) Perhaps some woodman's hut, with a fresh fag- got just crackling on the hearth ! Oh for a seat in such a chimney corner. (Whistle again at a distance) I hear you, gentlemen, a pleasant ramble to you. Adieu ! Messieurs ! space be between us ! yours is a left-handed destiny I'll seek mine to the right. [Exit. SCENE v. The outside of a Cottage in the Wood a light burning in the casement. Enter Monica, supporting herself on a crutch, and carrying a basket ofjiax. Mon. Praise to the virgin ! my old limbs have reached their resting place at last what a tempest ! my new cardinal is quite drenched, well. I've kept the flax dry, however, that's some comfort, (strikes against the door.) Ho ! there within open quickly. \The door opens, and a female zvildly drest, appears y she catches Monica's hand with affection, and kisses it. Mon. Ah ! my poor Silence ! thou hast watched and fretted for me preciously I'll warrant but the road from Brisac is long, and this rough night half crippled me. [The female feels her damp garments, and seems zcith quick tenderness to invite her into the house.'] Well, well, never fright thyself, if I shiver now. (22 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. ' M.^up of warm Rhenish will soon make me glow again 'faith I am weary tho' wilt lend an arm to an old woman ? [The female embraces and supports her.] Ah! there's my kind Silence ! \^Excu7it iifto iUe Cottage, Enter Florian running and out of breath from the left hand. Flor. I'm right, by all the household gods ! *Twas no goblin of the fen that twinkled to de- ceive, but a real substantial weather-proof tene- ment shining with invitation to benighted travel- lers ! Oh ! blessings on its hospitable threshold ! my heart luxuriates already by anticipation, and pants for a fire-side a supper, and a bed ! Hold though -just now I was on the point of shaking hands with a cutthroat who knows, but here I may introduce myself upon visiting terms with his family ?~^'faith ! I'll reconnoitre the position be- fore I establish my quarters this casemeitt is commodiously low (steps to the casement on tip- toe.) I protest, a vastly neat creditable sort of mansion ! ^yes it will do ! on one side blazes an excellent fire in the middle stands a table ready covered that's for supper then just opposite is a door left a jar aye that must lead to a bed. Ha ! now the door opens who comes forward ? by all my hopes, a woman ! Enough ! here will 1 pitch my tent. whenever doubts and fears per- plex a man, the form of woman strikes upon his troubled spirit like the rainbow stealing out of clouds the type of beauty and the sign of hope ! (he knocks) Now Venus send her with a kindly smile ! she comes she comes. [The Female opens the door, but on seeing Florian recoils zvith trepidation he catches her hand, and forcibly detains her.] THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 3 Flor. My dear madam ! no alarm for Hea- ven's sake ! You have thieves in your neighbour- hood, but, upon my soul I don't belong to their fraternity No madam, I'm an unlucky fellow, but with the best morals in the world the fact is I have lost myself in the forest the storm rages and as I am no knight-errant to court unneces- sary hardships respectfully I entreat the hospita- lity of this roof for the remainder of the night ! \The Female surveys Ms figure with suspicion and timidity.']. : ; i ri;>n; s^ Ix q) Flo. I fear 'tis my misfortune to be disbelieved nay then, let my dress declare my character ! - (he releases her hand to throw open his riding-cloaky and discovers the regimental under it.) BehoJd ! I am a soldier ! [Tlie Female shrieks violently -for an instant she covers her eyes with both hands shudderinglyi and then with the look and action of sudden insanity, darts away into the thicket of the wood. Flor. (calling after her.) Madam ! my dear madam ! only hear me madam ! she's gone ! absolutely vanished ! I wish I had a looking-glass, certainly I must have changed my face when I lost my road no scare-crow could have terrified the poor woman more. What's to be done ? If I fol- low her, I shall but increase her terrors and my own difficulties. Shall I enter the cottage and wait her return ? the door stands most invitingly open, and to a wet and weary wanderer, that fire sparkles so provokingly 'faith ! I can't resist the temptation Adventure seems the goddess of the night, and I'll e'en worship the divinity at a blazing shrine ! [Exit into the house. 24 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. SCENE VI. 7%^ Interior of the Cottage.-^the entrance, door, and casements are on one side opposite is the fire-place and a stair-case in the back scene conducts to an upper chamber a table ivith a lamp burning, and a frugal supper, stands in the middle of the stage. Fbrian is discovered when the Scene draws kneeling at the hearth and chaffing his hands before the fire, Flor. Eternal praise to the architect who first invented chimney-corners ! the man who built the pyramids was a dunce by comparison \rises and looks round him.'\ All solitary and silent faith ! my situation here is somewhat whimsical Well ! I'm left in undisturbed possession, and that's a title inj law if not in equity [he takes off his cloak and hangs it on a chair.'] Yes this shall be my barrack for the night. What an unsocial spirit must the fair mistress of this cottage possess Egad ! she seemed to think it necessary, like the man and woman in the weather-house, that one sex should turn forth into the storm, so soon as the other sought a shelter from its peltings a plague on such punctilio ! [Monica enters down the stair-case from her cham- ber.] ^ Mon. [speaking as she descends.] There my garments are changed, and now we may enjoy our supper. Flor. Ha ! another woman ! but old, by the mother of the graces ! Mon. A stranger ! Flor. Not an impertinent one I trust. One, who in the darkness of the storm has missed his road despairs of regaining it 'till morning, and craves of your benevolence a shelter for the night. You shall be soon convinced I am no dangerous guest. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 25 Mon. [with a voluble civility.] Nay, young gen- tleman, never trouble yourself to inform me of your rank ^you have told me your necessity, and that's a sufficient claim to every comfort my little cabin can afford pray. Sir ! take a seat I am much honoured by your presence we have a little supper toward you must partake it. Sir ! here ! my good Silence ! come hither. Ah ! I do not see. [looking anxiously round the cottage.] Flor. I am afraid, my good madam, you, miss one of your family. wf.'?!- / . A'V Mon. I do indeed, Sir ! and Flor. It was my misfortune to drive a female out of your house at the moment I entered it. Mon. Sir ! Flor. But not intentionally I protest I- the fact is though I have always esteemed myself as a well-manufactured person, yet^ something in my appearance so terrified the lady tnat Mon. Ah ! I comprehend ^you wear the habit of a soldier. Sir and my poor Silence never can abide to look upon that dress. Flor. Indeed that's rather a singular antipa- thy for a female may I enquire is she a daugh- ter of yours ? Mon. Not by blood, Sir ! but she is the child of misfortune, and as such may claim a parent in every heart that has itself experienced sorrow but Gome, Sir ! take a seat I beseech you my alarm ceases now I know the cause of her absence. She is accustomed to wander in the woods by night when any thing disturbs her mind. She'll return to me anon calm and passive as before I have known it with her often thus. You look fatigued Sir let me recommend this flask of Rhenish pray drink. Sir! 'twill do you good it always does me good. Fbr. Madam ! since you are so pressing my best services to you ! a very companionable sort 46 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. of old gentlewoman this (aside) I protest. Madam, I feel myself interested for this unfortunate under your protection ; there was a wild and melancholy sweetness in her eye that touched me at our first ex- change of looks with awe and pity^^is her history- a secret ? Men. Oh ! no not a secret, but quite a mys- tery, you know nearly as much of it as I do ^but since we are on the subject another draught of wine. Sir ! Fhr. Madam, you will pledge me And now for the mystery. Mon. Well, Sir, about sixteen years ago when I lived in Languedoc, for you must know I am but newly settled here, a stranger in Alsace , aye ! about sixteen or seventeen years ago, there came a rumour to our village, of a wild woman, that had been caught by some peasants in the woods near Albi, followiftg quite a savage and unchristian life; gathering fruits and berries for her food by day, and sleeping in the mossy hollows of a rock at night. She was brought round the country as a shew All the world in our parts went to look upon the prodigy, and you may be sure / made one among the crowd "Well, Sir ! this wild woman was the very creature you beheld but now (at that time she was in truth a piteous object her form was meagre and wasted, and her wretched gar- ment hung over it in fdthy tatters; her fine hair fell in matted heaps, and the sun and the wind to- gether had changed her skin like an Indian's ! Yet even in the midst of all this misery, there was a something so noble and so gentle in her air, that the moment I looked upon her, my curiosity was lost at once in pity and respect. The people by whom she was surrounded, were stunning her with coarse and vulgar questions, but never an answer did she deign to give, tho* some wheedled, and some threatened still 'twas to all alike, so most persons concluded she was dumb. -fffi: iJ-^UNlDlLWO Ot THE FOREST. jl Mon. (listening) Ah ! yes, perhaps my child returns to us. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 29 {The casement is thrmst open^ and Bertrand with the two Bravoes look into the cottage.^ Mon. Ah ! men in masques ! / ^^^r^ Bert. 'Tis he ! (they disappear from the case'- ment.) Fbr. Swift! help me swift to bar the door 1 Mon. Ah ! 'tis forced already ! [noise at door. [I'he door is burst, the tivo bravos instantly spring upon Florian and grapple with him. Bertrand seizes the zvoman. Mon. Murder ! murder ! Bert. Silence, or you die ! [Florian struggles towards the centre of the stage in front, and is there forced down upon one knee.] Fbr. Is it plunder that you seek? what is your purpose with me ? speak ! San. Learn it by this ! (raises his dagger.) Bert. Hold ! not here, drag him into the wood, dispatch him there! Flor. Inhuman villains ! by your soul's best hope ' I charge you I implore you. Bert, (stamping furiously and casting Monica from himj Toward the wood ! Follow me ! [Bertrand turns to the door, and the bravos struggle to force Florian after him, at that instant, the Unkyiown Female enters from the wood, and pauses in the door-way exactly opposite to Bertrand, his advanced arm falls back nerveless by his side, his limbs shake zvith strong convulsion, and he reels backward. Bert. Support me, ah ! save me, or I die ! [The bravos release Florian to fly towards Bertrand^ who sinks in their arms. The Female, zvith a light and rapid step crosses in front of the groupe to the middle of the stage where Florian remains kneelingy she spreads her wild drapery before the victim, and places herself between him arid the ruffians in the attitude of protection.] Bart, (pursuing her with his eye deliriously) ILook! 30 THE FOUNPLING OF THE FOREST. look ! she rises from the grave ! she blasts me with her frown ! away, away ! heaven itself forbids the deed ! [The Ruffians rush forth into the wood again. Flo- rian and Monica catch the hands of the Unknown (q their lips in transport y and the curtain faUs sud" denly upon the scene. AJVttl \ .'\ )' END OF ACT I. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 31 ACT 11. SCENE 1,A Gallery in the Chateau, Enter LONGUEVILLE and Bertrand. Longueville, TRAITOR! infamous unblushing traitor ! Florian has arrived, arrived in safety every way I have been betrayed, and now to screen your perfidy from punishment, you dare insult my ear with forgeries too monstrous and too gross for patience. Bert. Hear me, my Lord ! as I have Hfe, as I have a soul, so have I spoken truly, the grave yawned asunder to forbid the blow, it was no vision of my cowardice I saw distinctly saw it was Eugenia ! as in her days of nature, entire and undecayed, the spectre-form stood terribly before me, it moved it gazed ^it frowned me into madness ! Long. Villain ! still would you deceive me ? Bert. Ah my lord, you would deceive yourself, I swear it was Eugenia, her shadowy arms were stretched between the lifted dagger and the prostrate youth while her swift dark eye flashed on mine with brightness insupportable ! such was her dreadful look, when with her bleeding infant clinging to her breast she sprang into the flames and Long. Hush! [the doors of an inner chamber open, and De Valmont appears conversing zvith Florian and Geraldine.] We are interrupted, quick! 32 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. change those ruffled features into smiles, quick h mark me, wretch. De Val. [Coming forward] My boy, your pre- servation was indeed a miracle. Ascribe not to the vague results of chance, that which belongs to Providence alone ! Ah ! here is my kinsman one whose anxious fears on your account have held him a sleepless watcher thro' the night. Ij)ng. [with affected fervency] Florian ! a thousand welcomes the return of friends at all times is a joy, but when they come through dangers to our arms, there's transport in the meeting ! tell me what strange tale is this I catch imperfectly from every lip ? can it be possible you were assailed last night by ruffians in the wood ? Flor. Yes, my dear baron, yes ! but morning has chased away night, and I am out of the wood now therefore let us banish gloomy retrospections, and yield the present hour to bliss without alloy. De Val. Not so in this your friends must claim an interest dearer than your own these men of blood shall be pursued to justice, if Alsace yet hold them. LoTig. Be that my task [to Flor.] should you recognize their persons ? Flor. Positively no their disguises were impe- netrable. Ger. But their voices, Florian ? you heard them speak ? Flor. True, sweet Geraldine, a few broken sentences, but their accents were not framed like thine, to touch the ear but once, yet vibrate on the memory for ever. Long. Indulge my curiosity, how were you preserved ? Flor. Well, Baron, since you will force me to act the hero in my own drama, thus runs my story I was defenceless, helpless, hopeless two THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 33 sturdy knaves had mastered my struggling arms, and the dagger of a third gleamed against my throat, when suddenly a female form appeared before us, in a instant, as if by magic, the mur- derers relaxed their hold, shuddered, recoiled, tittered cries, and fled the spot, the female mute and motionless remained. Bert, (aside to Longueville.) You mark. Long, (repulsing him.) Silence ! Flor. Cowardice is ever found the mate of cruelty, this stranger was doubtless regarded by the villains as a preternatural agent, she proved however,"^ a mere mortal, frail and palpable as ourselves. Bert, (listening ivith tremulous attention.) God ! living ! Long, (not regarding Bertrand who has drawn behind). Whence came this woman ? What was she ? Flor. Alas ! the most pitiable object in nature an unhappy maniac, she resides at the same cottage where I found shelter from the storm. Bert, (as if electrijied by a sudden thought) Direct me Heaven ! [He glides silently out of the gallery unobserved by a//.] Long. Were not any other circumstances linked with this adventure ? Flor. None of consequence, but I suspect one of the ruffians was known to this wretched woman, her incoherent words implied that she recognized in him an antient enemy, but her frail remains of intellect, were, for a time, quite unsettled by the terror of the scene, she fled from me to her chamber in dismay, and at day-break I left the cottage without a second interview. Long. Florian! it is necessary this woman should be interrogated further (zvith much emotion) not a moment must be lost dear Count, excuse me for an hour, my anxiety admits not of delay 1 will myself visit this cottage instantly. [Exit. D 34 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. Ger. (half aside to De Valmont) Uncle, if the Baron tarries beyond the hour, we must not wai^ for his return, recollect it i to be at noon exactly. Flor. (overhearing) And what at noon, dear Geraldine ? De Val. (smiling) Florian, you are destined to be our hero in peace as well as war my niece has planned a little fete in compliment to the conquerors of Nordlingen. Ger. Fye uncle, Florian was not to have known of it 'till the moment, you have betrayed my secret, now as a due punishment for the treason, 1 impose upon you to appear at our fete in person. De Val. What a demand ! I, who never Ger. Nay, if it be only for a minute, positively you must come among us nay, I will not be denied. De Val. Well, you reign a fairy sovereign for the day, and if it be your will to play the despot, your subjects, though they murmur, must obey. Ger. [embracing him) There's my kindest uncle ! thanks ! Florian I warn you not to stir towards the terrace 'till I summon you, beware t^t disobedience, I have the power to punish. Flor. And to reward also. Ger. Ah ! at least I have the inclination, it will be your own fault if ever my actions and my wishes dissociate, or Geraldine refuse a boon when Florian is the suitor, \^Exit. Flor. (looking after her) Geraldine! too kind, too lovely Geraldine, ah I sir, is she not admi- rable ? De Val. She has been accounted so by many in your absence. I cannot estimate her beauty, but I know her virtue; and the last fond wish left clinging to this heart is Geraldine's felicity. I shall endeavor to secure it,, by uniting her in mar- riage with a worthy object. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 35 Flor. Sir! marriage did you say? Gracious heaven ! Marriage ! De Val. What is it that surprizes you ? I can assure you, Geraldine already has been addressed by lovers. Flor. To doubt it were a blasphemy against per- fection. Oh! Sir, it. is not that oh! no. De Val. Wherefore, my dear Florian, so much emotion ? Does the idea of Geraldine's marriage afflict you ? Fbr. I am not such an ingrate her happiness is the prayer of my soul to heaven, and I would perish to insure it. De Val. (after a pause, during ivhich he regards the agitated Florian with tender earfiestnessj. Young man, I have long since determined to address you with a brief recital of circumstances necessary to your future decisions in life. Every word of that recital must draw with it a life-drop from my heart, for I shall speak to you of the past, and recollec- tion to me is agony. The trial we once have con- sidered as inevitable, it is fruitless to defer. Draw yourself a seat, and afford me for a few minutes your fixt attention. {^Florian presents a chair to the Count, and then seats himself.] De Val. Florian, you now behold me, such as I have seemed, even from your infancy a suffering, querulous, cheerless, hopeless, broken-hearted man one who has buried all the energies of his nature, and only preserves a few of its charities tremblingly alive. It was not with me always thus I once possessed a mind and a body vigorously moulded, a heart for enterprize, and an arm for achievement. Grief, not time, has palsied those endowments. Born to exalted rank, and luxuriously bred, like the new-fledged eaglet rushing from his nest at once against the sun, eager, elate, and confident, I en- tered upon life. D 2 36 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. Flor. Ah! that mahgnant clouds should ob- scure so bright a dawn ! i De Val. My spirit panted for a career of arms -^civil war then desolated France, and, at the age of twenty, I embraced the cause of my religion and my king. Fortune, prodigal of her flatteries, twined my brow with clustering laurels, and at the close of my first campaign, my sovereign's favor and the people's love already hailed me by a hero's title. Fatigued with glory then ah ! Florian ! then it was I welcom'd love! a first, a last, an only and eternal passion ! (Pauses with emotion). Flor. Nay, Sir, desist these recollections shake your mind too strongly. De Val. No, no let me proceed. I can com- mand my self Florian ! 1 wooed and won an angel for my bride my expression is not a lover's rhap- sody at this distant period, seriously I pronounce it Eugenia approached as closely to perfection as the Creator has permitted to his creature ! Such as she was, to say I loved her were imperfect phrase my passion was enthusiasm was idolatry ! Our marriage-bed was early blessed with increase- and as my lip greeted with a father's kiss the infant, my heart bounded with a new transport toward its mother. My felicity seemed perfect ! Now, Florian, mark ! My country a second time called me to her battles ; I left my kinsman, Longueville, to guard the dear-ones of my soul at home, then sped to join our army in a distant province. I was wounded and made prisoner by the enemy. When I recovered health and liberty, 1 found a rumour of my death had in the interval prevailed through France. I trembled lest Eugenia should receive the tale, and flew in person to prevent her terrors. It was evening when I reached the hills of Langue- doc, and looked impatiently towards my cheerful home beneath. I looked the last sun-beam glar- ed redl^ upon smoking ruins ! Oh ! oh ! the blood THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 37 now chills and curdles round my heart the wolves of war had rushed by night upon my slumbering fold fire and sword had desolated all. I called upon my wife and my infant. I trampled on their ashes while I called ! fhe sinks back exhausted in his chair.) Flo. Tremendous hour ! so dire a shock might well have paralized a Roman firmness. De Val. (resuming faintly). Florian, there is a grief that never found its image yet in words. I prayed for death- nay, madness ! but heaven, for its own best purposes, denied me either boon. I was ordained still to live, and still be conscious of my misery. For many weeks I wandered through the country, silent, sullen, stupified ! My people watched, but dared not comfort me. Abjuring social life, I plunged into the deepest solitudes, to shun all commerce with my kind. 'Twas at the close of a sultry day, the last of August, that I en- tered a forest at the foot of the Ceyenne, and worn with long fatigue and misery, stretched myself upon the moss for momentary rest. On the sud- den, a faint and feeble moan pierced my ear; in- stinctively I moved the branches at my side, and at. the foot of a rude stone-cross beheld a desolate infant, unnaturally left to perish in the wilderness ! It- was famishing expiring. I raised it to my breast, and its little arms twined feebly round my neck. Florian! thou wert heaven's gracious iur strument to reclaim a truant to his duties ! Wel- come ! I cried to thee, young brother in adversity ! " thou art deserted by thy piortal parents, and my heavenly father has forsaken me !" From that moment I felt I had a motive left to cherish life, since my existence could be useful to a fellow- being my wanderings finished, and I settled in Alsace. Eighteen years have followed that event ; but I shall not comment on their course. Flor. (with energy). Yet, Sir, those years must jiiot, shall not pass forgotten. Deeds of genergu? 38 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. charity have made them sacred, and an orphan's blessing wafts their eulogy to heaven (lie casts himself at De Valmonfsfeet). Friend ! protector ! more than parent ! the beings who had called me into life denied my claim, and you performed the duties nature had renounced. Ah! Sir, I am thoughtless, volatile, my manners wild but, from my inmost soul, I love, I reverence, I bless my benefactor ! De Val. Rise, young man ! your virtues have repaid my cares. Here let us dismiss the past, and advert to the future. Geraldine is my heiress ^my niece and my vassals must receive the same master both are objects of my care, and I would confide them only to a man of honor. Florian ! let Greral-. dine become your wife be you hereafter the pro- tector of my people. Flor. Merciful powers! what is it that I hear ? I ? the child of accident and mystery a wretched foundling I ? De Val. Young man, your sentiments and your actions have proved themselves the legitimate off- spring of honor, and I require no pedigree for limbs and features. Fortune forbade you to inhe- rit a name, but she has granted you a prouder boast ^you have founded one. Common men vaunt of the actions of their forefathers, but the superior spirit declares his own I Nay, no reply I never form or break a resolution lightly. I know your heart I am acquainted with Geral- dine's they beat responsive to each other your passion has my consent ^your marriage shall re- ceive my blessing. Farewel. [//e exits suddenly, and prevents Florian b\) his act ion from any reply. ^ Flor. Heard I aright ? Yes, he pronounced it " Geraldine i^ thine." Earth's gross substantial touch is felt no more I mount in air, and rest on sun-beams ! Oh ! if I dream now royal Mab ! abuse me ever with thy dear deceits ; for in serious THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 39 wakeful hours, truth ne'er can touch my senses with a joy so bright. O ! I could sing, dance, laugh, shout and yet methinks, had I a woman's privilege, I'd rather weep ; for tears are pleasure's oracles as well as grief's : Enter L'ECLUR. VEc. So, Captain ! you are well encountered. I have sad forebodings that our shining course of arms is threatened with eclipse. If I may use the boldness to advise, we shall strike our tents, and file off in quick march without beat of drum. Our laurels are in more danger here than in the midst of the enemy's lines. Flor. How now! my doughty 'squire what may be our present jeopardy } VEc. Ah J Captain, the sex the dear seduc- tive sex this house is the modern Capua, and we are the Hannibals of France, toying away our severe virtues amidst its voluptuousness. One damsel throws forward the prettiest ancle in ana- tomy, and cries, " Mr. L'Eclair, I'm your's for a Waltz" a second languishes upon me from large blue melting eyes, and whispers, " Mr. L'Eclair, will you take a stroll by moonlight in the grove?" while a third, in all the ripe round plumpness of uneasy health, calls the modest blood to my fin- ger's ends, by requesting me *' to adjust some error in the pinning of her 'kerchief." O ! Captain, Captain, heros are but men, men but flesh, and flesh is but weakness ; therefore, let us briefly put on a Parthian valor, and strive to conquer by a flight! Fbr. Knave I prate of deserting these dear pre- cious scenes again, and I'll finish your career my- self by a coup-de-main. No, no; change churhsh dreams and braying trumpets to mellifluous flutes. I am to be married ^Varlet, wish me joy. 40 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. L'Ec. Certainly, Captain^ I do wish you joy, when a man has once determined upon matrimony he acts wisely to collect the congratulations of his friends beforehand, for heaven only knows, whether there may be any opportunity for them afterwards. May 1 take the freedom to enquire the lady ? Flor. *Tis She L'Eclair, 'tis she, the only she, the peerless, priceless Geraldine. VEc. ** Peerless*^ I grant the lady, but as to her being ^^ priceless ^^^ I should think for my own poor particular, that when I bartered my liberty for a comely bed-fellow, I was paying full value for my goods, besides a swinging overcharge for the fashion of the make, Flor. Tush ! man, 'tis not by form or feature I compute my prize. Geraldine's mind, not her beauty, is the magnet of my love. The graces are the fugitive handmaids of youth, and dress their charge with flowers as fleeting as they are fair 5 but the virtues faithfully o'erwatch the couch of age, and when the flaunting rose has wither'd, twine the cheerful evergreen, crowning true lovers freshly to the last ! [Exit. UEc. " True lovers ! well, now I love Love, myself, particularly when 'tis mix'd with brandy \ like the loves of the landlady of Lisle, and the bandy-legg'd Captain.* SONG. A Landlady of France, she loved an officer, 'tis said. And this officer he dearly loved her brandy, oh ! Sigh'd she, " I love this officer, although his nose is red," " And his legs are vy^hat his regiment call bandy, oh." 2 But when the bandy officer was order'd to the coast ; How she tore her lovely locks that look'd so sandy, oh ? '* Adieu my soul !" says she, " if you write, pray pay the post," ^ " But before we part, let's take a drop of brandy, oh !" c. * For this speech, and the song that follows, the author is in- liebted to the pen of George Cohnan, Esq. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 41 She fiU'd him out a bumper, just before he left the town. And another for herself, so neat and handy, oh ! So they kept their spirits up, by their pouring spirits down. For love is, like the cholick, cured with brandy, oh ! *' Take a bottle on't," says she, " for you're going into camp ; " In your tent, you know, my love, 'twill be the dandy, oh \" " You're right," says he, " my life !" for a tent is very damp ; " And 'tis better, with my tent, to take some brandy, oh ! SCENE II. The Cottage. Enter MoNiCA and Bertrand. Mon. In truth. Sir, I have told you every cir- cumstance I know concerning my poor lodger. But wherefore so particular in your enquiries ? Bert. Trust me, I have important motives for my curiosity Seventeen years ago, I think you said and in the woods near Albi? Mon. Aye, aye, I was accurate both in time and place. Bert. Every incident concurs. Gracious hea- ven ! should it prove my good woman, I suspect this unfortunate person is known to me bring me directly to the sight of her I Mon. Hold ! Sir, I must know you better first; I fear me, this poor creature has been hardly dealt with, who knows, but you may be her enemy? Bert. No, no, her friend her firm and faithful friend suspence distracts me, lead me to her pre- sence instantly ! Mon. Well, well, truly. Sir ! you look and speak like an honest gentleman ; but tho' I consent, I doubt whether my lodger will receive you, her mind is iH at ease for visitors All last night I pverheard her pacing up and down her chamber. 42 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. moaning piteously and talking to herself; towards day-break, all became quiet, then I peeped thro* the crevice of her door and saw that she was writ- ing I never knew her write before, I knocked for admittance, but she prayed me not to interrupt her for another hour. Bert. Does she still keep her chamber ? Mon. She has not quitted it this morning hark ! I think I hear her stir, (goes to the stair-foot and looks up) aye ! her door now stands open, place yourself just here, and you may view her plainly without being seen yourself; her face is turned towards us, but her eyes are fixed upon a writing in her hands. [Bertrand looks for a moment to satisfy his doubts, then rushes forward and casts himself upon his knee transportedly .1 Bert. She lives ! Eternal niercy ! thanks ! thanks ! Mon. Holy St. Dennis! the sight of her has strangely moved you collect yourself, I pray, she comes towards us. Bert. Oh ! let me cast myself before her feet ! Mon. (restraining him) Hold, Sir ! whatever be your business, I beseech you to refrain a little, I must prepare her for your appearance, her spirits cannot brook surprise, back ! back ! [^Bertrand withdraws, and Eugenia descends the stair with a folded paper in her hand she appears to struggle with emotion, and running tozvards Monica, casts her arms passionately around her.^ Eug, My kind mother ! this is perhaps our last embrace we must part. Mon. Part ! my child ! what mean you ? Eug. Ah ! it is my fate, my cruel unrelenting fate that drives me from you, from the last shelter and the only friend I yet retain on earth. Mon. Explain yourself I cannot comprehend. Eiig. Mother ! I have an enemy, a dreadful one Seventeen years hare veil'd me from his hate THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 43 in vain those years have wasted the victim's form, but the persecutor's heart remains unchanged my retreat is discovered the wretches who were here last night too surely recognized me soon they may return, and force me oh I thought of horror ! no, no, here I dare not stay. Mon. My poor innocent! whither would you go ? Eug. To the woods and caves from which you rescued me. Mother, the wilderness must be my home again I fly to wolves and vultures to es- cape from man ! Receive this paper, 'tis the writ- ten memoir of my wretched life read it when I am gone my head burned and my hand trembled while I traced those characters yet 'tis a faithful history Mother ! I dare not thank your charity, but heaven will remember it hereafter bestow upon me one embrace, and then let me depart in silence. /'Monica gives a sign to Bertrand to advance.) Mon. Yet hold some moments a stranger has been inquiring here this morning who describes himself your friend. Eug. Ah ! no, no the tomb long since has co- vered all my friends 'tis some wily agent of my foe! Ah! forbid him mother let him not ap- proach me. Mon. 'Tis too late he is already in the house. Eug. Where ? Monica points, and Eugenia's eyes following her direction, rest upon the prostrate figure of BER- TRAND, who has placed himself in a posture of sup- plication, and concealed his face with his hands, Eug. (gazing intensely with apprehensio?i.J Speak ( you kneel and still are silent ah I what would you require of me ? Bert, (uncovering his face without raising his eyes) Pardon 1 pardon ! 44 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. Eug. (shrieking andfiying) Ah ! Bertrand. Bert, (catching her mantle) Stay ! angel of mer- cy, stay and hear me He that was your scourge now yields himself your slave a wretched peni- tent despairing man lies humbled in the dust before you, and implores for pardon, Eug. (pauses presses her crucifix to her lips, and then replies with fervor.) Yes! charity and peace to all I Nay, heaven forgive thee, sinful man, I ne- ver will accuse thee at its bar. Bert. Angel I my actions better than my pray- ers may plead with heaven for mercy the cruel wrongs that I have offered, yet in part may be atoned lady, I come to serve and save you. Eug. Ah I to what fresh terrors am I yet devoted ? Bert. Might we converse without a witness? in your ear only dare I breathe my purpose. Mon. Nay, I will not be an eaves-dropper my child you do not fear this person now? I'll leave you with him nay, 'tis best perchance he comes indeed Avith service. My blessings go with you, stranger, if you mean her fairly, but if you wrong or play her false, a widow's curse fall heavy on your death-bed. [ Exit up the staircase. (A pause of mutual agitation.) Eug. Speak ! man of terrors say what has the persecuted and undone Eugenia yet to dread ? Bert. The baron Longueville Eug. That fiend ! Bert. He now is in the neighbourhood as yet he dreams not that you live but accident this very hour might betray you to his knowledge. Lady ! I possess the means O blessed chance to shield you from his malice. Eug. And wtlt thou O ! wilt thou, Bertrand, at last extend a pitying arm to raise the wretch, thy former hate had stricken to the ground? I THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 45 have been despoiled of fortune, fame, and health my brain has been distracted by thy cruelty yet now preserve me from this worst extreme of fate let me not die the slave of Longueville, all my in- juries, all my sufferings are forgotten, and this one gracious act shall win thy pardon for a thousand sins. Bert. Lady ! my o'erweighed conscience heaves impatiently to cast its load (sinks on his knee) Lo I at your injured feet I kneel, and solemnly pro- nounce a vow, the tyrant Longueville shall mar your peace no more. [The cottage-door silently opens, and SANGUINE looks in he makes a sign to LONGUEVILLE who follows, and they glide to the further end of the cottage un- perceived, ivhere they remain in anxious observation of the characters in front.'] Eug. Rise 1 your penitence wears nature's stamp, and I believe it honest. Bert. Oh ! lady, your words redeem me from despair but say, to ease a heart that aches with wonder say, by what prodigy you 'scaped the flames of that tremendous night, when all believed you perished ? Eug. (shuddering.) Ah ! what hast thou said ? my dream of confidence dissolves, and now I turn from thee again with horror I Again I view thy murderous pogniard reared to strike I Again my wounded infant shrieks upon my bosom, and the fiery gulph yawns redly at my feet I begone t be- gone I for now I hate thee ! Bert. Ah, not to me to Longueville ascribe the horrors of that night (Aside) What shall 1 say ? I dare not own to her that De Valmon*' lives Hear me, lady -, scarce was your lord's un- timely fall reported, when the cruel Longueville in secret plotted to remove his infant heir the only bar that held him from a rich succession bv hel- 46 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. lish means he won me to his cause his hand it was that oped the castle gates at midnight to the foe, and when the fierce Huguenots rushed shouting through the halls, still his hand it was that fired the chamber were you slept in peace to save your child you rushed distracted to the rampart's edge, just as I followed to complete my prey, a falling turret crossed my path, and presently the general fabric sank in ruin. Eiig. A wayward destiny that night was mine at once both saved and lost ! a hidden passage dug beneath the rampart, twining through many a cavern'd maze, at distance opened to the woods I reached the secret entrance of that pass, just as the turret fell and screened me from pursuit. Concealing darkness wrapt my flying steps the roar of death sank far behind, and ere the dawn, in safety with my child, I gained the forest. Bert. Your child I eternal powers I the infant then escaped my blow, Eug. Thy dagger's point twice scarred his in- nocent hand, but feiled to reach the life. [Ber- TRAND gesticulates his transport.) a sanguine cross indelibly remained but nature and his mother's tears assuaged the pain. Charitable Foresters, ig- norant of our rank, relieved our wants and chang- ed our robes for rustic weeds; thus disguised my infant in my arms on foot I travelled far and long, seeking ever by the loneliest paths, to reach my sovereign's court, and at the throne of power implore for justice. Bert. O I does the infant yet survire ? Speak, lady ! bless me with those words he lives. Eug. No Bertrand no fortune but mocked me with a moment's hope to curse me deeper still through ages of despair In vain I snatched my darling boy from pogniard and from flame when way-lost in the wilderness, but for a moment did I quit my treasure, the mazes of the wood ensnar- THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 47 ed my step the fever of my body rushed upon my brain I wandered never to return while my forsaken infant he perished, Bertrand. Ah ! my brain begins to burn afresh mark me, he perish- ed terribly inquire not further. Bert. "^ (deeply affected.) Thou suffering excel- lence ! be witness heaven I the monster that I was, no longer hath a life thy tears have drown- ed it quite, and now it strangely melts in pity and remorse Come, lady, let me bestow thee in a safe retreat the .hoarded wages of my sinful youth, I'll use as offerings to redeem thy peace far hence in foreign lands a certain refuge waits our flight, and there secure from Longueville. \jrhe Baron suddenly stands before them in the centre Eugenia shrieks, and Bertrand stands aghast and trembling.'] Ill ' Bert.j jUndonc for ever 1 Long, (furiously to Sanguine.) Guard well the door -let not a creature enter or depart. [Sanguine advances by his direction. Eugenia flies by the stairs to the upper chamber. LoNGUE- VILLE, after a short pause of indecisive passion, draws a pogniard and seizes upon BERTRAND.] Long. Wretch ! Bert. Strike ! ^yes, deep in this guilty bosom, strike at once, and rid me of despair. Long. Thou double traitor! thy perjuries now meet their just reward, tremble at impending death. ,- -^Vv r\ \. Bert. No; I have not feared to live in vice, and will not shrink at last to die for virtue. Long, (throwing him off.) No ; I will not take- the wretched forfeit, thou'rt spared from hate, not pity ; I give thee back thy life, but I will study pu- nishments, to make the boon a curse unutterable. Bert. Tyrant, I defy thy vengeance to increase 48 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. my torments, the innocent, I pledged myself to save, already stands devoted to destruction, and the measure of my anguish and despair is full. Long, (to Sanguine.) Sanguine, .ascend the stair, and force that wretched woman to my pre- sence. Bert. Hold, hold, my lord ! recal those threat- ning words. O God ! what damning crime is in your thought ? pause yet for a moment, pause ere you barter to the fiend your soul for ages. Om- nipotence hath interposed with miracles, and still preserved you from the guilt you sought, your conscience yet is undefiled with blood. Long. Away ! my purpose is resolved. Bert: Will you then reject the mercy Heaven extends ? {kneeh, and catching his cloak.) Hear me, my lord, nay, for your own eternal being, hear me ; as you now deal with this afflicted in- nocent, even so, hereafter, shall the God of judg- ment deal with vou. -^ Long. I brave the peril, (calls aloud) hasten. Sanguine, produce my victim. Bert. (Desperately.) Cover me mountains ! hide me from the sun! (He casts . himself upon the ground.) /Sanguine returns precipitately from above.) Sang. My lord, one fatal moment has undone your scheme, the female has escaped. Long. Villain! escaped. Bert, (raising himself in frantic joy.) Hal Sang. I found the casement of the upper cham- ber open, some twisted linen fastened to the bar, nearly reached to theground without, and proved the method of her flight; a beldame who must have aided her escape, remains alone above, (turning towards the window,) ha I I catch a female figure darting through the trees at a distance ; she runs with THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 49 lightning speed, now she turns towards the Castle. Long. Distraction ! if she gains the castle, I am lost for ever ^ ^pursue ! pursue ! [Longuevdle and Sanguine rush out. Bert. (Vehemently.) Guardians of innocence, direct her steps ! [He follows them. SCENE 111. J Gallery in the Chateau. Enter ROSABELLE followed by Gaspard. Gasp. Ha f young mistress Rosabelle, whither so fast I pray ? 'faith, damsel, you are fleet of foot. Ros. Yet my steps are heavier than my heart, for that's all feather, ready for any flight in fancy's hemisphere j give thought but breath, and 'twere blown in a second to the moon or the antipodes, wilt along with me, Gaspard ? Gasp. What, to the moon or the antipodes? Alack ! damsel, I should prove but a sorry tra- velling companion upon either road ; no, no youth is for flight but age for falls. Ros. Wilt turn a waltz anon, and be my part- ner in the dance ? Gasp. Hey ! madcap, have we dances toward ? Ros. Aye ! upon the terrace presently, all the world will assemble there ; the lady Geraldine and myself for beauty ; and then for rank, we shall have the count himself, and the baron, and the chevalier, and Gasp. Out upon you, magpie I would you de- lude the old man with fables? his lordship, the count, among revellers I truly a pleasant jest ; I have been his watchful servant these twenty years, and never knew him to abide the sight or sound of pleasures. E 30 THE FOUNDLING OI? THE FOREST. Bos. Then I can iicquaint you, he proposes on this day to regale both his eyes and his ears with a novelty -, I heard him promise lady Geraldine to join the pastimes on the terrace. Gasp. Oh I the blest tidings, damsel, thy ton.s^ue has made a boy of me again. Hos. Now charity forefend, for so should i Bring thee to thy second childhood. Gasp. Ah ! would you fleer me ! his lordship among revellers! oh I the blest prodigy! well well, I give no promise, marie but should a cer- tain damsel lack a partner adodl 1^ know not sixty-five shews with an ill-grace in a rigadoon, but for a minuet well well St. Vitus strengthen me, and I accept thy challenge. [Exit. Jios. Go thy ways, thou antique gallantry, thy pledge shall never be endangered by my claim, I'm for a brisker partner in every dance through life, I promise thee. AIR. Rosahelle, On the banks of the Rhine, at the sun-setting hoitr, Oh ! meet me, and greet me, my true love, I pray I Or feastinji;', or sleeping-, in hall, or in bower. To the Rhine-bank, oh ! true love, rise up and away I On that bank, an old willow, dejectedly grieves. And drops from each leaf, for love's falsehoods, a tear ; Go! rivals, and gather the willow's pale leaves. For falsehood ne'er cross'd between me and my dear. Exit THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 5i SCENE W.The Castle Oardeiis decorated for a Fete, and crowded with Dancers and Musicians a lofty Terrace crosses the extremity of the Stage, from which Village- girls advance, scattering flowers before Geraldine, who is led by Florian to. an open Temple between the Side-scenes, co^itaining three Seats, Ger. (Pointing to the centre seat.) There is .our hero's seat of triumph, nay, my commands are absolute, and you have no appeal, I reserve this for my uncle, he will join us presently. [They seat themselves a ballet immediately com- mences'Boys, habited as xvarriors, pay homage before Florian, and hang military trophies round his seat. Girls enter, as wood-nymphs, STc. rvho surprise and disarm the warriors, then remove the trophies, and replace them zuith garlands. The tcarriors and nymphs join in a general dance Suddenly, a piercing shriek is heard the action of the scene abimptly stops and Eugenia, entering from the top of the stage, 7'ushes distractedly be- tween the groupes of dancer's, and casts herself at the feet of Geraldine.'] Eug. Save me ! save me I Ger. Ah ! what wretched supplicant is this ? Flor. By heavens ! the very woman who yes- ternight preserved my life. 1L0^GVNIL1E enters in pursuit. ' 'Long. (Advancing rapidly, with instant self -com' maud) Dear friends I Heaven has this hour ap- pointed me the agent of its grace. I have dis- covered in this wretched woman, the long lost wife of an antient friend, at Baden ; lend your E2 52 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. assistance to secure her person 'till I can apprise the husband of this unexpected meeting. Eug. No, no, I have no husband ^they have murdered him; he would betray destroy me. (catching Geraldine^s robe) Oh ! you, whose looks are heavenly-soft, to you I plead, protect me from this fiend. Ger. How earnestly she grasps my hand, in- deed indeed her agony seems genuine. Long. You are deceived, she utters nought but madness, her mind has been for years incurably i diseased; come I away! away! \ [He seizes violent ly upon Eugefiia to force her with [ him, she clings to Geraldine in anguish.^ \ Eug. Forsake me not ! I have no protector ta invoke but you. Ger. Forbear, my lord I cannot find that wildness you proclaim, forbear, and recollect the ; rights of hospitality never yet were violated at my uncle's gate. Lady, dismiss your fears, here sorrow ever meets a ready shelter for here resides i the Count de Valmont. ' Eug. Who ? I Ger. The excellent the suffering Count de * Valmont. Eug. (starting up xoith recurring insanity.) Ha ! ha ! ha I come to the altar, ^my love waits for ^ me weave me a bridal crown ! Ij)ng. (triumphantly.) Behold! can you doubt me now ? \ Ger. Too painfully I am convinced, miser- able being ! Ah \ remove her, hence, before my uncle joins us, so terrible an object would in- expressibly afflict him. Fbr, Yes ^yes remove her hence ! but O ! I charge you treat her with the tenderest care. Ij)ng. (eagerly to his people.) Advance ! bear her to ray pavilion ! mark ! to my pavilion on the river-bank ! THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 5S \The men seize upon Eugenia-^the Count appears at the same moment advancing from the extremity of the Terrace. De Val. My friends ! I come to join your plea- sures. Eug. (struggling violently.) Hark ! he calls me to his arms unhand me ! nay then oh ! cruel cruel cruel [Overcome by her exertions, she sinks into a swoon and falls in the arms of the two men Longueville rapidly draws her veil across to conceal her fea- tures from the Count as he advances.'] Long. Away with her this instant ! [He turns quickly toward the Terrace and catches De Valmonfs arm as he descends to prevent his approach then turns imperatively to the men.] Long. Quick ! Quick ! away ! De Valmont pauses in surprize Longueville main- tains his restraining attitude Florian and GeraU dine join to arrest his steps The Bravos with- draw the insensible and unresisting Eugenia upon the opposite side. The various Characters dispose themselves into a picture^ and the curtain falls upon the Scene. END OF ACT THE SECOND. 54 T^E FOUNDLING OF THE FORESIV ACT III. SCENE I. 77je Steward's Room Gaspard and L' Eclair discovered dr inking ^ the latter half -in-' toxicflted. Gaspard. A DOD ! \a verjf: ipasterpiece of the military art ! Why this T|q.i:ei^ne p;>ust be a famous captain, I'll drink his \\Q?Xi\\ (drinks) Odso! where did we leave the enemy?;. 0,h! the ^^varians were just driven across th^I^ecka^r, and liad destroyed the bridge. . Wen,^^a^ then wh3,t did our troops ? VEcl. They dashed after them thro* the river, like a pack of otters, - .i;. ' i .^p v, \ Gasp. Hold^7-^ou^^i4j^i&t\now^^^ ford^bje. .\Z-^;^\ ''^,^^.v'^'^^i^^l^M. ^^J^'Ec, D|id I ? Pshavy "I only mej^nt^ it wasn't fordabje to the enemy-^no, poor deyi^s! they cpuldn't ford^, ft certainly ; but as to our hii^sars whew ! such fellows as they would get thro' any thing, were it ever so deep to the bottom :(takes the flask from Gaspard and drinks). Gasp. O ! the rare hussars ! Now this is a con- versation just to my heart's content. I dearly love to hear of battles and sieges. The household are all retired to rest, and my room is private so here i we may sit peaceably, and talk about war for the remainder of the night. IJEc. Bravo ! agreed we'll make a night of it but harkye, is not this room of yours built in a queer sort of a circular shape ? Gasp. No; a most perfect square. VEc. Well, I never studied mathematics; but, "^for a perfect square, methinks it has the oddest trick of turning round with its company I ever witnessed. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 55 Enter RosABELLt. Ros. Here's a display of profligacy ! So, gen- tlemen, are these your morals ? Methinks you place a special example before the household drinking and carousing thus after midnight, when all decent persons ought to be at rest within their beds. Gasp. Marry now, my malapert lady I How comes it you are found abroad at these wild hours? Ros. 1 have always important motives for my conduct. A strange female waits at the castle- gate, who clamours for admittance; ^he seems in deep distress, refuses to accept denial or excuse, and demands to speak with the person of first con- sequence in the family. Now, Mr. Gaspard, as you happen to be steward Gasp, (rises pompously) \ am of course the per- $onage required. You say a female? Ros. Yes, she waits for you in heavy trouble at the gate. Gasp. I fly. Gallantry invites, and I obey the call. Good Mr. L' Eclair, I cast myself upon your courtesy for this abrupt departure *Tis woman tempts from friendship, war, and wine My fault is human ray excuse divine ! . [Exit. Bos. In sooth, the old gentleman has hot for- gotten his manners in his cups ; but as to you, Sir> fto L' Eclair J how stupidly you sit have you no- thing to say for yourself? VEc. (raising and reeling towards her). Much, very much ^love-r midnight all snug and pri- vate. Ros, Mercy O me! the wretch i certainly in- toxicated how wickedly his eyes begin to twinkle. Why, Scapegrace, I'm sure you're not sober. ^* LEc. Don't say so, pray don't you woun4 my delicacy. O ! Rosabelle ! beautiful but mis- judging Rosabelle ! I am unfortunate, but not cpi- minal. This morning I beheld only one Rosabelle, 56 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. and yet I was undone ; now I seem to behold two Rosabele's ergo, I either see double, or am dou- bly undone. There's logic for you. Now, could a man who wasn't sober, talk logic ? only an- swer me that. Bos. "What shall I do with him? If I leave him here, he'll drink himself into a fever. I must e'en coax him. L'Eclair come, come, my dear L'Eclair, let me prevail upon you to go to bed j I'm going to bed myself. L'Ec. O ! fie, that's too broad ; I blush for you ; would you delude my innocence ? Bos. The profligate monster! I delude L*Ec. Well, I yield to fate stars I veil your chaste heads, and thou, O ! little candle, hide thy wick I behold the lamb submitting to the sacri- fice. (Reels to embrace her.) Bos. Why, you heathen monster! how dare you talk to me about lambs and sacrifices ? ah I if you stir another step, I'll alarm the family I I can scream. Sir ! L'Ec. I know you can, ^but pray don*t, somebody might hear you and that would be very disappointing, recollect I have a character to lose. Bos. And have not I a character too. Sir ? L'Ec. Hush ! hush I lets drop the subject. Bos. How now, sirrah I have you any thing to say against my character ? L'Ec. Oh I no, I never speak ill of the dead. Bos. Why, you vile insinuating but I shall preserve my temper though you have lost your manners well assuredly of all objects in crea- tion, the most pitiable is a man in liquor. L'Ec. There's one exception a man in love. DUETT. Bos ahelle and L'Eclair. Roa. The precept of Bacchus to man proves a curse. The head it confounds, and the heart it bewitches. IfEc, I'm sure, the example of Cupid is worse For he walks abroad without shirt, drawers, or breeches. THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 57 Ros. Pshaw ! Cupid, vou dolt, has rich garments enough. L'jEc. Nay, his wardrooe's confinM to a plain suit of bun. Ros. 'Twas Bacchus taught men to drown reason in cans. L'Ec. 'Twas Cupid taught ladies the first use of fans. Ros. How diff'rent the garland, their votaries twine, How genteel is the myrtle how vulgar the vine ! L'Ec. Of myrtle or vine I pretend not to know. But a fig-leaf I think would be most apropos : [Exeunt. SCENE II. TTwr Count's Chamber De Valmont is discovered gazing in profound meditation upon a miniature picture, De Val. Eugenia! Now of the angel race, and hous'd in Heaven ! Forgive, dear Saint ! these blameful eyes that flow With human love, and mourn thy blessedness. O ! ye strange powers ! with what excelling truth Has Art's small , hand here mimick'd mightiest Nature ! What cheeks are these! could Death e*cr crop such roses ? Eyes ! star-bright twins ! fair glasses to fair thoughts. Where, as by truest oracles confest. The godlike soul reveals itself in glory. Your glances thrill me ! Amber-twinkling threads ! Half bound by grace, half loos'dby winds, how strays This shining ringlet o'er this clear white breast ! Like the pale sunshine streaking wintry snows ! These lips have life ^yea ! very breath, a sweet Warm spirit stirs thro' the cleft ruby now ! They move they smile they speak. Soft ! soft ! sweet heavens ! I'll gaze no more there's witchcraft in this skill. And my abus'd weak brain may madden soon ! [conceals the picture in his bosom'] The spell is hidden, still th' illusion works : O I in my heart Eugenia art thou trac'd There there thou livest speakest ^yet art mor- tal. Strong memory triumphs over death and time. 58 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. In all my circling blood each vein each pulse Wherever life is, even there art thou ! [Gaspard speaks zvitkout.] Gasp. Go Go his lordship may not be dis- turb'd Mon. (without) Away ! I have a cause that must be heard De Val. How now I voices in the anti-room ? Ho ) .n Entei' GasparD. Gasp. Alack ! that folk will be so troublesome my good lord I here's a strange woman truly a most obstinate spirit who craves vehemently to be heard, on matters (so she reports) of much importance to your lordship. D. VaL Nay, in the morning be it- -not at this Jiouh!-,'-' ' '-^ Gasp. I told her so, my very words but truly, her grief seems to have craz'd her reason. De Val. How I is she unhappy then ? her sor- rows be her passport here admit her instantly where should the afflicted heart prefer a prayer, if kindred wretchedness deny its sympathy ? \Gaspard introduces Monica.'] Mon. So ! you are seen at last, my lord I - men say your heart is good-^grant Heaven ! 1 find it so but ah I perhaps it is too late Yes,' yes I fear it the dove is in the vulture's gripe already. De Val. Woman! what strange distraction V this ? Give me a knowledge of your griefs with method. Mon. I will, I will, but anguish stifles me, O I my lord, my lord, this is your castle, and here ^jie fled for shelter, yet cruel hearts refused her prayer. I have been told by your people that the baron's pavilion on the river-bank is made her pri- son, she will be murdered there, oh! my lord, gracious lord, save her, save her ! \She (hrorvs lierself passionately at his. feet.] THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 59" DeVal. Rise, attempt composure, your words are riddles to me. Gasp. My lord! 'tis of the poor lunatic she speaks, she whom the baron has confined, this wojnan claims her as her charge. De Val. I saw the person not, but heard in brief her story from the baron, rest, good woman I rest, my kinsman is her friend. Mon. No, no, he is a monster thirsting for her blood, here, here, I have read his character. [Producing Eugenia's. MSS."] De Val. Beware! you offend me, grief yields no privilege to slander. Mon. I am not a slanderer, indeed, indeed 1. am not, here are proofs, your Lordship, I find, is called the Count De Valmont, had you not once a relation of the same title, who fell in battle with the Huguenots eighteen years ago ? ! De Val. Never. Mon. Yet 'twas the same title, aye, here 'tis written " in forcing the passage of the Durance." Dc Val. How! 'tis of myself assuredly you read, I was reported falsely in that very action to have fallen, and for a time my death was credited through France. Man. Ah I my lord ! my lord ! Oh ! it rushes on my hearts nay, give but a moment speak! were you once wedded to a lady named Eugenia ? De Val.. Womajil ah name beloved 1- wherefore that torturing question ? Mon. Yes ^yes it is it must be so I can- not here FCad- read this ! [giving the scroll) De V^l. ! ' Eternal Powers I Eugenia's well-known character ! when and whence did you procure this writing ? . Mon. This very morning, from . her own hji,^ my lord, Flugenia lives to bless and' to be blessed again. ; . .;! ' , ;i:>-> ! u 1 :>.,;, :' '< [pe Valmont starts as if stricken to the centei^-r~for eo THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. a moment his features express amazement, then incredulityy and lastly indignation.'] De Val. Begone ! thou wretched woman, lest I forget thy sex, and kill thee for thy cruelty. Mon. Nay, let me die, but not be doubted, read, read, and let your eyes assure your soul of joy I [The Count faintly staggers back into a seat, and then fastens his eyes upon the scroll with a frenzied earnstness.'\ Gasp. Woman ! if you have spoken falsely, my noble master's heart will break at once. Mon. By the great issue, let my words be judged! De Val. (reading) " The chamber burst in flames, I snatched my infant from its slumber, I heard the voice of Longueville direct our murder, ruffians rushed towards us to perform his bidding." {starting forward with uncontrolable fury) Oh I God of wrath and vengeance ! hear thou a husband's and a father's prayer ! strike the pale villain I oh I with thy hottest lightning blast him dead ! a curse, a tenfold curse o'erwhelm his death-bed I Traitor I thou shalt not 'scape this hand shall rend thv heart-strings I'll smite thee home. ^t \In the delirium of his passions he draws his sword, and strikes with it as at an ideal combatant, his bodily powers forsake him in the effort, he reels, and falls convulsed into Gaspard's arms. Gasp. Help I help I death is on him, help there swiftly ! [Geraldine rushes in,follmved by domestics.] Ger. Whence these cries? ah Heavens! what killing sight is this? uncle, uncle, speak to me, 'tis Geraldine that calls. '^ - Enter FLORiAN/roTW the opposite side. Fbr. My patron! ha I convulsed! dying! Eter" nal Mercy spare his sacred life ! w THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 6l Ger. Nay, bend him forward, his eyes unclose again he sees he knows us. ; \The Count in silence draws a hand from Geraldine and Florian imthin his own, and presses them together to his heart.] Flor. How fares it^ Sir ? bless us with your voice. De Val. Ah I Ah I (he grasps the scroll and points to it emphatically, but cannot articulate.) Flor. O ! for a knowledge of your gracious pleasure, speak sir, pronounce one word. De Val. (very faintly and with effort.) Longue- ville: ah fly, preserve [a^am his accents fail him, he seems to collect all his remaining strength for one short effort, and a second time just articulates Longueville ! (he relapses into insensibility.) Flor. Enough I I comprehend your will, nay, bear him gently in, I'll to the river-bank and seek the Baron ! [Geraldine, 8(c. bear the Count off on one side, Flo- rian rushes azvay by the opposite.^ SCENE III.-^A rugged Cliff that overhangs th^ River. Enter LoNGUEViLLE and Sanguine. Long. Tardy, neglectful slave I still does he- loiter > Sang. Nay, return to the pavilion the signal soon must greet us ^you bade Lenoir to sound his bugle when he reached the bank. Long. Aye thrice the blast should be repeat* ed still must I listen for those notes of destiny in vain? hark! hear you nothing now? ^ Sang. Only the rising tide that murmurs hoarse- ly as it frets and chafes against the bank below os. LoTig. Is midnight passed? Sang. Long since just as we crossed the glen the monastery chime swang heavy with the kneU of yesterday. 62 tnn foundung of the forest. Long. A guiltless end that flighted yesterday hath reached O I that the morrow found as clear a tomb I When the next midnif^ht tolls, Eugenia, thou wilt rest in blessedness, whilst thy murderer Ah ! what charmed couch shall bring the sweet for- getful slumber at that hour to me ? Midnight, the welcome sabbath of unstained souls, O, to the murderer thou art terrible silence and darkness that with the innocent make blessed time, to him bring curses, for then through sealed ears and close- veiled eyes, strange sounds and sights will steal their way, that iil the hum and glare of day-light dare not stir then o'er the wretch's forehead ooze cold beads of dew ih feverish, brain-sick dreams, with starts and grOaLiis- on beds of seeming down he feels the griding r^ck, and fmds himself a hell more fi'eice, than fields cfari shew hereafter. Sang. How now, my lord ?- unmanned by conscience ? Nay, then, let Eugenia live. \Lon^ Not for' an angel's birthright I think'st thou I would deign td breathe on ivretched suffer- ance ; No, no her death is necessary to my ho- nor and thy peace-^ Cotne on ! my hand may fal- ter but my heart's resolved-^' tis sworn, inexorably sworn Eugenia dies., ; ,,. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. 77/6" rher-bank^the Rhine Jmos ac?'oss the stage at distance on one side a pavilion Extends obliquely , through the lozoer windozos of Tvhich lights appear-^ nearly opposite is a small bower of lattice-work. The moon atfidl,hasjust risen dbove the German bank^ mid pours its- radi- " ance Upon the tcater. Bertrand is discovered ^^tching the pavilion. 'Bert. I watch in vain all means of access to the prisoner are debarred her chamber now is dark and silent still tapers glare and voices mur* mur from the hall beneath the baron and San-' guine are there 'tis against life these midnight THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 6S plotters stir. ' Gh inliat thfs heart nft? ght! bleed to its last o^uilty drop in random for Eugetiia I Soft I does not the dashing of a distant ' oar 'f your life, and cure the memory of THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 65 its early woesj 'tis necessary you should cross the river, before dawn- a, boat is. now in readiness to bear yon over. ; Eug. Npi no, t fiivi a ,lauguage in your ey^ more certain than, your lip murder midnight murder is its direful theme. Thou wretched man ! rather for thee than i*or myself I knee). Pause, Longueville I yaise but, thine eye to yon clear woxld, thick-sown with shining wonders ^think, that throughout the boundless beauteous space, an om- nipresent, and all-conscious spirit is, think, that within his awful eye-beam, now thy actions pass, and presently before his throne must wait for judg- ment; think, that whene'er he touched the yeriest worm, that crawls on this base sphere, with life, his mighty will encompassed it with safety I then, tremble, creature as thou art,:: to spurn his Jaw by whom thou wert created, nor quench with im- pious hand, that gifted spark, omnipotence hath once ordained to glow. Long. Lady, already I have said, your auguries wrong me fthe noise of a combat sounds from the bank. J Ha ! the clash of swords I Sanguine I fly to the spot. Lenoir, I fear me, is in danger. [Exit Sanguine. Confusion to my hopes I what ill-beamed planet rules the hour ? Eugenia, return to the pavilion. Eug. Not, while succour seems so nighj lielp I help! ;;: C-. .- :.i . Long. Dare but repeat that cry, by heaverts?! this very moment is your Id^st. (draws a c(agger.J Nay, nay, you strive in vain,- away ! [Longueville forces Eugenia into the pavilion, then drags a bar across the door.] What cursed step has wandered on these banks to thwart my ripe design ? Perdition to the meddling slave I his life shall pay the forfeit of his rashness. F 66 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. Re-enter Sanguine. Sang. My lord, the combatants, whoever they were, had vanished ere I reached the spot, close to the water's edge the turf was stained with blood, and already to a distance from the bank, Lenoir had rowed away the boat, I called aloud, but he increased his speed, and gave no answer. Long. 'Sdeath ! some prying hind has stolen on our plans; doubtless Lenoir has been assailed, and for a while avoids the bank, fearful of further am- bush ; follow me to search yon winding path, if the villain have received a wound, traces of blood will guide us to his haunt, vengeance direct our steps ! [Exit with Sanguine. [Eugenia appears at the lower windows through a grating.^ Eug. Fond, trusting heart ! art thou again de- ceived ? does the great thunder sleep, and are the heavens still patient of a murderer's crimes ; yes, yes, the sounds have ceased, and now a dreadful stillness sits upon the night the tomb seems imaged in the hour. Hope in the breathless pause forsakes my breast for ever. Enter Florian. Flor. Ha! lights still burning, fortunately then he has not retired to rest, ^baron ! baron ! [RuTis to the door, Eug, (Shrieks.) Ah ! the voice of succour, - turn turn in pity snatch me from despair pre- serve me from the grave. Flor. Heavens ! [Involuntarily he withdraws the bar, and Eugenia ^^ darting forth, clings wildly round him."] Fbr. Unhappy woman I whence these trans- ports ? THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 67 Eug. Swear to preserve me, swear not to yield me to the murderer's dagger, no, no, you have a human heart, am I not safe with you ? Flor. My honor and my manhood both are pledges for your safety, but who is the enemy you dread ? Eug. Longueville, he seeks my life, nay, nay, I am not mad, indeed I am not, turn not from me, look with compassion on a desolate, devoted crea- ture, whom man conspires to wrong, and Heaven forgets to aid. Flor. Appease these agonies -by my eternal hope, I swear, whate'er the danger, or the foe that threatens, I will defend you with my life from in- jury. Eug. A wretch's blessing crown thee for the generous vow ! oh ! let my soul dissolve and gush in tears upon this gracious hand I [Eugenia enthusiastically clasps Florian*s hand, and covers it with tears and caresses, suddenly a new impulse appears to direct her actions, she rubs the back of the hand she has seized with strange earnestness, and a tremor pervades her whole frame.^ Flor. Why do you fasten thus your looks upon my hand, what moves your wonder ? Eug. (tremblingly.) This scar, this deep deep scar, that with a crimson cross o'erseams your hand, speak, how gained you first this dreadful mark? ~ r- Flor. From infancy I recollect the stamp, its cause remains unknown. * : Eug. Who were your parents ? Flor. Alas I that knowledge never blessed my heart, I am a foundling, eighteen years since, in a^ forest at the foot of the Cevennes. Eug. Ah ! did watchful angels then- yes, yes twice the dagger struck ! 'tis nature's holy proof I 68 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. Flor. Merciful heavens ! you then possess the secret of my birth, woman ! woman I pronounce my parents' name, and I will worship you. Eug. Your parents I ah 1 they were, ah ! ah ! \^SIie attempts to enfold him with her arms, but faints as he receives the embrace.^ Flor. Speak ! I conjure you, speak ! breathe but their sacred name ! she hears me not and nature struggles at my heart in vain ! Enter LoNGUEVlLLE and SANGUINE at distance. Long. The lurking knave, whate'er his aim, has fled beyond our search, and all is now secure. Has Lenoir return'd your signal to approach the bank ? Sang. He rows towards us now ^nay, look the boat draws close. Long. Then to our last decisive deed ! [^Passing to the pavilion he beholds the characters in , \v..i, '^ ' front, and starts.'] Ha ! confusion and despair ! Eugenia rescued, and in Florian's arms ! Flor. Help, baron ! swiftly help ! aid me to preserve a ! C^hey engage.) Eug. (frantic) Inhuman Longueville !> for- bear ! forbear ! [While Florian encounters Longueville, Sanguine sud- denly darts upon Eugenia, who is too enfeebled to resist ; by the action of a moment he transports her from her protector's side to the Baron's. Florian' s position is next to the audience, so that Longueville' s sword now equally intercepts him from Eugenia and from the river. Long. (Perceiving his advantage) Away ! drag her to the boat- be mine the task to curb her champion's valour,= ^i ^ Flor. Hold ! dastard unless thou art dead to every sense of manhood hold ! Long. Boy ! I triumph, and deride thy baffled spleen. 70 THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. [Sanguine lifts Eugenia into the boat, and the masque receives her.] Eug. (from the boat) Great nature ! speed my dying words ! Thou dear-lov'd youth ! thy mo- ther blesses thee long-lost late-found heboid ! she struggles now to bless her child and now she dies content ! Flor. Eternal Providence ! what words were those ? Longueville ! Barbarian ! Fiend ! [He rushes madly upon the Baron, ivho parries the assault ; then in an agony casts himself before his feet.-] Oh ! if thou art human, hold ! I kneel I fall thy slave spurn me trample on my neck take my life but O ! respect and spare my parent ! Sang, (from the boat) Decide, my lord, the crowd approach, already they o'erlook the bank. Long. 'Twere vain to pause I founder upon either course nay then, revenge shall brighten ruin, swift ! plunge your pogniards in Eugenia's bosom, let me behold my victim perish, and then commitme to my fate! Flor. (starting up in desperation) Monster ! Long. They come obey me, slaves ! [Sanguine draws Eugenia back, and the Masque lifts a dagger over her.] Sang. We are prepared. Long. Now. Sang. Comrade ! strike ! ' Masque. Aye! to the heart ! [The Masque rapidly darts his arm across Eugenia^ figure and plunges the dagger into Sanguine, who reels beneath the blow and f alb into the stream. (triumphantly) Eugenia is preserved I '\With one arm he supports the lady, and with the other *. snatches away the masque and discovers the fea- tures of Bertrand. Long. Bertrand perfidious slave ! eterna Pal- sies strike thy arm ! [Gaspard, Monica, Domestics, 8(c. with torches, enter THE FOUNDLING OF THE FOREST. 71 at the moment and surround the baron, whose sur- prise bereaves him of power to resist. ; Flor. Secure the villain, yet forbear his life ;- Mother ! Mysterious blessing ah ! yield her to my arms my heart ! [Bertrand resigns Eugenia to Florian's embrace.'] Eug. My boy, my only one Bertrand i life is thy gift, and now indeed I bless thee for the boon. Bert. I swore to save you, I have kept my oath, unseen I watched, unknown I ventured in your cause your forgiveness half relieves my soul, and now I dare to pray for heaven's ! Enter De Valmont, supported by Geraldine and Domestics. De Vat, Ah I tis she, dear worshipp'd form she lives she lives. Eug. Ah ! shield me Florian, yon phantom- shape death surely hovers near De Val. Nay, fly me not, Eugenia ! tis thy lord, thy living lord, thy once beloved De Val- mont calls, thou dear divorced-one ! bless these outstretch'd arms I kneel and woo thee for ray bride again ! [^Florian leads Eugenia trembling and uncertain to the Count i he catches her irresolute hand.~\ Eug. Indeed, my wedded lord ! I wept for a dear warrior once, and did the sword forbear so just a heart ? ah I chide not love, joy kills as well as grief [She sinks gradually into his embrace, and he sup- ports her on his breast in speechless tenderness.] Long. Detested sight! well, well, curses are weak revenge, and I'll disdain their use. Flor. Remove that monster to some sure con- finement. The Count hereafter shall pronounce his punishment. Long. Already I endure my heaviest curse. I view the objects of ^y ~Tiatfegr "gfm v ii u w mi jxyj , Come I to a dungeon I darkness is welcome, since it hides me from exulting foes ! [Exit. Ger. (advancing with tenderness). Florian ! ^friend ah ! yet a dearer name ^you rob me of a birth- right, still I must greet my new-found kinsman. Flor. Geraldine I what means my love ? De Val. Florian I Heaven mysteriously o'er- watch'd thy hour of peril, and led a father through the desert, unconsciously to succour and redeem his child. Flor. Ha ! De Valmont's glorious blood then circles in these veins I My parent, my preserver ! Ah ! twice has existence been my father's gift. De Vol. My pride thus long in humbleness! my forest-prize ! my foundling boy I thou had'st my blessing ere I knew thy claim. Eugenia, greet our mutual image. Ah I wilt thou vveep, sweet love ? Thou bendest o'er his forehead e'en as a lily, brimming with clear dews, that stoops in beauteous sorrow to embathe jts neighbouring bud. Thro' many a storm of perilous and marring cares o'erborne, our long-benighted loves at last en- counter on a sun-bright course, and reach the haven of domestic peace. Thus Jueiah's pil^im one whose steps in vain Climb sky-crown'd rocks o*erpace the burning plain, Just when his soul despairs his spirits faint. Achieves the threshold of his long-sought Saint : The desert's danger storms and ruffian-bands All sink forgotten as the shrine expands Feet cure their toil that touch the hallowed floors He rests his staff kneels, trembles, and adores! [Exeunt Omnes. THE END. ERRATA IV A FEW COPIES. Page %, Une S, forr triumpher ratd a triumpher 6, 33, for top TtaA toss II, 8, /or health rea<( beartk J. M'Creery, Printer, Black'Horse Court, London. Stockton, Calif. UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A A 000 075 443 2 PR ^599 D59f