Dramas (Baillie)/The Homicide/Act 3

by Joanna Baillie

ACT III.

SCENE I.—Van Maurice's House; an Ante-room in the Apartment of Rosella.

Enter Margaret and a Maid Servant, by opposite sides.

MARGARET.

I hope thy lady is still asleep?

MAID.

O, no! I wish she were. She called me a few minutes since, and I am going to her again.

MARGARET.

Is she aware how long she has slept?

MAID.

No; she thinks it still early, and I have not undeceived her.

MARGARET.

Thou hast done right, Jeanette. Ha! she is up already!

Enter Rosella.

ROSELLA.

I have had a deep and death-like sleep. It was strange that I should sleep so at such a time as this.

MARGARET.

And you feel yourself refreshed, I hope?

ROSELLA.

I know not: I waked in confused bewilderment, which gave me a few moments of idiot-like insensibility; but the dismal truth broke upon me at once: it was the blow of a leaden mace upon my breast; I had better not have slept at all. But I am early enough to get to him ere he leave the prison. (Looking at a timepiece on the wall of the room.) Good heaven! it is long past the hour! he is already at the court, and I have not seen him. Why was I not called? Bring me my mantle. No, I'll stay for nothing.

[As she is about to go off, she is stopped by the entering of a Servant.]

SERVANT.

There is a person below, who would speak with you, lady, on particular and important business.

ROSELLA.

His business should be such, indeed, who comes at an hour like the present.

MARGARET (to Servant).

Didst thou ever see him before?

SERVANT.

I can scarcely say, Madam; his face is so concealed by his bonnet and the buttoned-up collar of his cloak: but he is tall, and somewhat stately.

ROSELLA.

Let him come to me immediately.

[Exit Servant.
(To Margaret and the Maid.) Leave me; I would see him alone.

MARGARET.

I dare not leave you, you tremble so.

ROSELLA.

Don't mind that, but leave me.

[Exit Margaret, &c.

 
If it should be! I fear—why do I fear?
Should I not wish it earnestly? Wild thought!
For such a quick return no natural means
Could have effected: him it cannot be.

Enter Claudien in disguise.

[She remains motionless, eyeing him from head to foot, while he looks round to ascertain that there he nobody in the room, and then discovers himself on which she utters a suppressed cry.]

Thou here! O, Claudien, wherefore art thou come?

But oh! I know it well;—thou should'st be here.
My brother must not die,

CLAUDIEN.

Must not, and shall not, be thou well assured.

Thou know'st it then; he has to thee reveal'd?

ROSELLA.

To me nor no one else has he reveal'd it.

CLAUDIEN.

Yet is it known to thee.

ROSELLA.

I have by instinct learnt it. This poor heart!

Fear and affection have divined the truth.
The horror he express'd when I proposed
To write to thee and hasten thy return,
Came like a flash of lightning on my mind,
And then the truth was instantly reveal'd.

CLAUDIEN.

Noble Van Maurice! generous, matchless friend!

Be comforted, my dearest; he is safe.

ROSELLA.

But thou art not—O, thou art not, my Claudien!

(Wringing her hands distractedly.)
Alas, alas! we're dreadfully beset.
The innocent must not die; and with the guilty

Is twined the dearest chord of my existence.
Oh, words of misery! to call thee guilty!
(Taking his hands and pressing them tenderly.)
There has been blood upon these hands—I know it;
But 'twas the blood of a fell enemy
Who would have shed thy blood; and may I not
Press them and bless thee still?

CLAUDIEN.

Thou precious creature! thy affection gleams

Like sunshine through one solitary loophole,
In a dark firmament of gather'd clouds,
That gilds one spot of ocean, hill or plain,
With brightness beautiful though circumscribed.
Thou cheer'st my soul, and be thou also cheer'd!
I must and I will save thy brother's life.
And for that thou hast made my own so precious,
I will be wary to preserve it also.

ROSELLA.

Yes, thou shalt live; for heaven has been thy help,

Else thou couldst never, in so short a time,
Have reach'd this shore again.

CLAUDIEN.

The gale was rough; the ship was driven back

Upon the breakers of a rocky shore;
But I swam stoutly, and, when quite exhausted,
I caught a floating raft and gain'd the shore.

ROSELLA.

'T was Providence preserved thee: thanks to Heaven!

And will preserve thee stilL

CLAUDIEN.

That is my trust.

ROSELLA.

But, O, be cautious! I will go forthwith

And to the Court declare the simple truth,
As to the deed, yet speaking of thee still
As one far distant in another land.
I am bold now; I am braced for the task;
Trust it to me.

CLAUDIEN.

Forbear, thou heart of tenderness and courage!

I've better means than this to save thy brother.

ROSELLA (eagerly).

And save thyself besides?

CLAUDIEN.

Yes, even so; my life is precious now:

Thou'st made it so. There is no time, my love,
For further explanation. Fare thee well!
I'm glad that I have seen thee first; have heard
Thy words of strong affection, and have felt
This dear and gentle hand press'd to my heart.
Farewell, farewell!

ROSELLA.

Thy voice sounds sadly, as though many a league

Were going to divide us. How is this?
Farewell pronounced with such solemnity!

CLAUDIEN.

But there be other obstacles than distance

May separate the dearest.

ROSELLA.

I apprehend thee well;—the prison's walls,—

The dungeon and the chain.—O, God of heaven!

(Seizing him wildly.) Thou shalt not go; thou shalt not leave this house:

I'll lock thee up within my chamber; go

To this dread Court myself; I have no fear,
For Heaven will teach me what I ought to say
When I am there; will give me words of power
To save a brother's life—ay, and a life
Dear as a brother's. Now I feel assuredly
I shall prevail. There is no time to lose:
Go to my chamber; haste thee to the cover.
(Dragging him to the door of an inner room.)

CLAUDIEN.

Art thou not mad, Rosella?

ROSELLA (dragging him still).

Not mad; but thou wilt make me so: haste, haste—

Alas! I have no strength; but let my weakness
Compel thee, generous Claudien!
(Kneeling to him.)

CLAUDIEN.

Dear love! alarm bereaves thee of thy reason,

If thou believ'st thy chamber would protect me.
Shouldst thou before the judges speak of me,
As of an absent man! would they believe thee?
Thy servants too; they have admitted here
A stranger muffled up in mystery,
And must confess they saw him not depart.
Thou'lt run me into danger from the dread
And apprehension of it.—
Withhold me not; I will be very prudent;
I will not rashly risk my life. No longer
Must I remain; moments are precious now;
Let me depart.

ROSELLA.

Go instantly; I am a hateful wretch

To keep thee here so long.
(Catching hold of him as he hurries off.)
Button thee closer, take this handkerchief,
And press it to thy mouth like one in pain.
(Giving a handkerchief.)

CLAUDIEN.

I thank thee, kind Rosella. (Going.)

ROSELLA (running after him again).

Halt in thy gait, and stoop thy shoulders too;

Thy step and graceful bearing will betray thee.

CLAUDIEN.

Trust me, my love; I'll not betray myself.[Exit.

[Rosella alone, who continues to pace to and fro in a hurried way, and presently Margaret enters.]

MARGARET.

My dear friend——

ROSELLA.

Who art thou?

MARGARET.

Dost thou not know me?

I met the stranger going hence, and thought
I might return to thee: have I done wrong?
[Rosella gives no answer, but walks about as before.]
Move not so rapidly, my dear Rosella,
But let thy body have a little rest.

ROSELLA.

Cease! thou art foolish; should my body rest,

My mind would go distracted.

MARGARET.

Walk as much as thou wilt within thy chamber,

Where no one will observe thee. Take my arm—
Heaven aid and pity thee, poor sufferer,
There is a cruel conflict in thy breast.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A narrow Lobby or Passage, leading to the Hall of Justice. Several People discovered, passing or loitering about.

Enter Father Francis.

FATHER FRANCIS (to an Under Officer).

Stop, friend: thou art from the court?

OFFICER.

Ay, with half the learning even of a monk, you may guess that.

FATHER FRANCIS.

Thou shalt enjoy thy joke unanswered, Officer. Thou art by office indifferent to the fate of an unhappy panel; but thou wert an obliging fellow once, before thou wert spoilt by preferment, and now thou canst do me a favour.

OFFICER.

Mention it, good Father. I ought to have reverenced your cloth for your sake, if I do not reverence you for the sake of your cloth.

FATHER FRANCIS.

Has the advocate for the prisoner finished his defence?

OFFICER.

Ay, Heaven be thanked! I thought it would never have an end. He has just concluded it.

FATHER FRANCIS.

Return to the court, then, and desire him to come to me here, without loss of time. I have something of importance to communicate to him.

OFFICER.

I will, Father. [Exit.

FATHER FRANCIS.

Woe is me that human nature should come to this! The pride and spirits of that creature, now, rise on an occasion like this. The condemnation or execution of a fellow-creature creates no other feeling in him but the enjoyment of increased importance and comparative security! Yet there was some good in him once. (Pauses thoughtfully.) There was good in him once: his first confession consisted of one petty crime, for which he seemed to be most penitent. But the steps of the confessional is a spot which he has long forsaken.

Enter Ardusoffe.

ARDUSOFFE.

You have something to communicate, good Father?

FATHER FRANCIS.

Move a little this way: I have words for thy ear in secret.

ARDUSOFFE.

Has any thing occurred to throw light on this mystery? any thing in favour of my unhappy client? who comports himself with the sober dejection of a man resigned to his fate, though he firmly asserts his innocence; and I, so help me God! as firmly believe him.

FATHER FRANCIS.

I am glad thou dost.

ARDUSOFFE.

I could sit down and weep for his sake, he has so wound himself round my heart in the course of this dismal transaction.

FATHER FRANCIS.

Be comforted, my son; thou canst do better things for him than that.

ARDUSOFFE.

Instruct me, reverend Father.

FATHER FRANCIS.

Produce in court the voluntary evidence of his confessor.

ARDUSOFFE.

How is this? You said to me last night that he had confessed nothing.

FATHER FRANCIS.

There is no time to question me on this point now. I shall presently present myself before the judges, as evidence to exculpate the prisoner; and when the oath has been administered——I pray thee move further this way: we may be overheard. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Hall of Justice. Two Judges sitting in state; the Prisoner at the Bar; Kranzberg and Borion, and all the Attendants, &c. of a full Court.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Maurice Van Maurice, baron and citizen of this imperial city, we have heard your defence from the mouth of your advocate, pled with eloquence and ability, though opposed to much strong uncontradicted evidence against you: is there any thing further which you wish to urge in your own behalf?
[Van Maurice remains silent.]

JUNIOR JUDGE.

Baron; if you can offer any good plea why the sentence of the law should not be pronounced against you, as the murderer of your kinsman, Baron Hartman, let not this opportunity pass. We must otherwise proceed without delay.

VAN MAURICE.

Most honourable judges: The evidences against me are so strong, that I am compelled to confess, were such insufficient to convict a prisoner, there is scarcely a panel who at this or any other bar could be convicted. I have nothing to urge against your sentence, but that which I know you cannot and ought not to receive,—a simple and unqualified assertion of mine own innocence.

SENIOR JUDGE.

There is no occasion to say further.

VAN MAURICE.

Pardon me, my Lord, there is occasion; and I am permitted so to do.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Proceed, then.

VAN MAURICE.

I am well aware that an assertion of mine own innocence cannot be received for my exculpation, even when I recall to your consideration, that I am the son of an honourable father, who has served the state in the senate and the field, and shed his blood for that service in the only way in which it becomes blood to be shed, that is derived from a source so honourable: that I have been reared under his eye, in rectitude and truth, which has never yet on any occasion been impugned: that love of worldly wealth, the only motive for committing the crime with which I am charged, is a propensity from which I am known to be altogether free. It cannot, I repeat, be received for my exculpation, but may surely, when joined to such considerations, well justify your acceding to my earnest request, that you would grant me three weeks' delay, ere your verdict be pronounced, that I may if possible prove mine innocence.

Yes, I request it earnestly; for who,
Of woman born, shrinks not from death inflicted
Before the gazing eyes of multitudes,—
Inflicted with disgrace. I do entreat you,
For that I leave behind me those most dear,
Who will, if such my punishment, receive
A stroke more terrible than headsman's axe,
The wretch's momentary bane, can give—

I do beseech ye, for that ye yourselves
Hereafter may be wrung with deep compunction,
When the good citizens of Lubeck, moved
With gratitude for the brave father, coupled
With pity for the son of such a parent,
Shall scowl upon ye as you pass along
Her public streets, as those who, in his misery,
Denied some weeks of respite to the offspring
Of their once loved commander.
I do appeal to all within these walls,
The citizens of this my native city;
I do appeal to every honest man
Of whate'er town or kingdom; yea, to those
Who, banish'd forth from the community
Of social man, have but the forest waste
For their wild home, and for their polity
The light of untaught reason, whether this,
Your pitiless refusal of my suit,
Be not at enmity with every sympathy
Of common nature. I appeal to all.

MANY VOICES (at once).

He's right, he's right; he speaks good reason, sooth!

SENIOR JUDGE.

Silence in the court.

VAN MAURICE (looking round on the spectators).

Ye pity me, and I do thank you for it.

I know I shall hereafter be restored
To lost esteem and good men's love.—Alas!
The fisherman in his small boat, when drifted
To the wild cat'ract's brink, is seen no more
Till, from the boiling nether gulph cast up,
Amid the fierce turmoil of warring eddies,
Jagg'd rocks and churning foam, a sorry sight
Of mangled, stripp'd, and sever'd limbs appears.
I may be so restored, with praise shed o'er me
As unavailing as the rainbow tints,
That through the cat'ract's cloudy spray may gleam
Upon the perish'd wretch.

Enter Ardusoffe and Father Francis.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Again I say, keep silence in the court! (Turning to the prisoner.) You aver that you are innocent; and if this be so, it is at least known to you, who is the guilty person. Name him, then, that justice may take its course, and you shall have full time allowed you to prove your assertion. Refusing to do this, you become your own destroyer, and have no right to cast the blame upon us.

VAN MAURICE.

I have said, my Lords, that I cannot do this without betraying confidence; and were I to do so, should I deserve to be believed in any thing I might reveal? He who betrays confidence to save himself, may utter falsehoods also from the same urgent temptation.

SENIOR JUDGE.

And this is your determination?

[Van Maurice bows.]

JUNIOR JUDGE.

You screw your sense of honour, noble Baron, to the romantic pitch. Consider better of it. Is this your final determination? [Van Maurice bows again.] Then, though most painfully, we must proceed to give sentence as the law directs.

ARDUSOFFE (advancing).

Stop, my Lords. In this extremity, I am warranted to bring forward evidence to exculpate my client, which might not otherwise have been justifiable. This holy Father hath that to reveal which concerns the life and honour of the prisoner, and I claim that he may be heard.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Reveal penitential confessions!

ARDUSOFFE.

Yes, my Lord, to save the life of an innocent person; and show me that law of God or man which forbids it.

JUNIOR JUDGE.

He must speak upon oath.

ARDUSOFFE.

Let it be administered to him as you please.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Let him be sworn.

[Father Francis is led to the further end of the hall, where the oath is administered to him in dumb show. He then advances slowly to the front, as if unwell.]

ARDUSOFFE.

What is the matter, good father?

FATHER FRANCIS.

I am somewhat faint; may I be permitted to withdraw for a few moments?

ARDUSOFFE (after looking to the Judges, who nod assent).

You are permitted. [Exit Father Francis.

KRANZBERG.

This monk, methinks, is strangely seized on the sudden. Will a lie or two choke a friar?

ARDUSOFFE (to Kranzberg).

If thou canst find one man in Lubeck who doubts the veracity of Father Francis, make that a plea for setting aside his evidence: thou hast my leave to do so.

VAN MAURICE (aside to Ardusoffe).

Has Father Francis confessed any one concerned in this matter?

ARDUSOFFE (aside to Van Maurice).

Why else should he volunteer this evidence?

After a pause, enter Claudien, disguised as Father Francis.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Declare to us what thou knowest of this atrocious deed.

CONFESSOR.

That which is only known to Heaven, the prisoner, and myself, I will declare; and nothing but the truth shall pass these lips.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Proceed without further prelude.

CONFESSOR.

The panel at your bar was, on the fatal evening when Baron Hartman was slain——

KRANZBERG.

Gentle expression! I should say—murdered.

JUNIOR JUDGE.

Interrupt not the witness.

CONFESSOR.

Well, be it termed as you please. I say, he, your panel, was the whole of that evening shut up within the walls of his own library, when Count Claudien, his friend, entered the room by a private door from the garden, with blood on his hands and agony in his heart.

VAN MAURICE.

Thou liest, false priest! I made to thee no such confession. Mine own sins, and mine own alone, were revealed to thee. (To the Judges.) Regard not what he says, for he is perjured.

JUNIOR JUDGE.

Silence! do not interrupt him: it is for us to judge of this matter. (To the Confessor.) Proceed.

CONFESSOR.

He entered, as I have said, with blood upon his hands, and told, in much agony of mind, to this, your noble prisoner, that he had been, a short half-hour before, attacked near the ramparts by Baron Hartman, who rushed furiously upon him with his drawn sword: that they fought, and Hartman was disarmed; upon which he treacherously drew his dagger, attempting to stab him; but he, this Claudien, being the stronger man, threw the other upon the ground, and bent over him with one knee upon his breast. (A pause.)

SENIOR JUDGE.

Proceed; art thou ill again?

ARDUSOFFE.

He will recover breath presently; give him time.

CONFESSOR.

In this position were those unfortunate adversaries, when Hartman, in passion, uttered words most false and injurious of a lady beloved by Claudien; upon which, this unhappy Claudien drew his own dagger from his belt, and stabbed him to the heart. That was the blood-stained dagger found in the apartment of Van Maurice.

VAN MAURICE.

I can forbear no longer; if this monk
Tell such a tale as drawn from my confession,
By all most sacred held in earth or heaven,
He lies a thousand times!

CONFESSOR.

But wilt thou also swear that Claudien came not into thy library on that fatal night, and told thee a story similar to that which I now repeat?

VAN MAURICE.

Do not beset me thus! the Count is absent,
And cannot now defend himself. Whatever
May be your good intentions in my favour,
As friendly aid I utterly reject them.

KRANZBERG.

Will any one be fooled by such bungling jugglers playing into one another's hands so palpably?

BORION.

Most honourable Judges, I think you cannot admit of such evidence as this. There is collusion here.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Is there any farther evidence to produce? (A pause.) I presume there is none.

[The Judges confer closely together in dumb show, while the Prisoner and others speak in an under-voice.]

VAN MAURICE (beckoning to the Confessor).

Come this way, friar.

KRANZBERG.

No speaking privately to a witness in court.

ARDUSOFFE.

The evidence being closed, it may now be admitted.

VAN MAURICE.

Come hither, stealthy monk, for holy father
I never more may call thee. (Beckoning as before.)
[Confessor goes nearer.] So unwilling!
What fiend of darkness hast thou tamper'd with?

No earthly man but one could to thy ear
What thou reveal'st convey, and he's far distant.

CONFESSOR (in a low voice to Van Maurice).

Not far distant, Maurice.

[Van Maurice pushes him away, and with an eager expression of countenance points to the door; then sitting hastily down, remains in a stooping posture, covering his face with his hands.]

KRANZBERG (to Ardusoffe).

We shall know presently what all those juggling deceptions of yours will produce. Thou hast trained thy actors to admiration. But honesty is the best policy after all; this good saying I have always maintained.

ARDUSOFFE.

As far as words will go, sapient Sir; and the fate of thy last night's treachery has confirmed it. A laudable consistency of character, when both words and actions teach the same lesson.

VAN MAURICE (starting up).

They are long of coming to a decision.

ARDUSOFFE.

Nay, they have consulted but a little while.

VAN MAURICE.

I have sat on that bench a long time.

ARDUSOFFE.

But a few minutes, dear Baron.

VAN MAURICE (looking to Confessor, who stands at a distance).

Not yet gone!

ARDUSOFFE.

Did you expect him to go?

VAN MAURICE.

My understanding had left me: I knew not what to expect.

ARDUSOFFE.

Hush! the Judges are preparing to pronounce sentence.

VAN MAURICE (looking up fearfully).

Is it for life or death? (Averting his eyes hastily.) It is not life.

SENIOR JUDGE.

Baron Van Maurice, having duly considered the evidence against you, and that also which has been produced in your favour, we feel ourselves constrained to pronounce upon you the sentence of the law. And forasmuch as murders have, of late years, become more frequent amongst people of noble condition, we see good to revive, upon this occasion, a law which has been too long laid aside.—Maurice Van Maurice, for this atrocious murder which you have committed, we condemn you to be broken alive upon the wheel; and to-morrow, before mid-day, this sentence shall be executed on your mortal body. May God be merciful to your immortal soul, which you have put into such fearful jeopardy!

[Van Maurice stands motionless on the spot; a murmur of horror sounds through the hall, Kranzberg alone looking triumphant; while the Confessor sinks into the arms of Ardusoffe, who prevents him from falling on the ground.]

OFFICER OF THE COURT.

Undo his cowl, and give him a cup of water.

ARDUSOFFE (drawing his cowl still closer).

Let him alone. It is only a momentary weakness: he revives.

CONFESSOR (aside to Ardusoffe).

Let go thy hold: I am well now, and think I shall be strong. (Advancing with a stately step in front of the Judges.) My Lords, I needs must strongly raise my voice against this sentence which ye have pronounced upon a man most innocent.

O, more than innocent! a man most virtuous.
Ay, more than virtuous; e'en to honour's summit
Most nobly raised, whereon he stands aloft,

'Twixt heaven and earth, so godlike, that the mind
Scarcely believes this nether world of sin
Hath been his previous home.—He is most guiltless.

SENIOR JUDGE.

What proof givest thou of this, and who art thou who hast twice this day addressed us with mien and air so varied, and two such different voices?——

CONFESSOR (dropping his disguise).

The man who did the deed: the unhappy Claudien.

SENIOR JUDGE.

And thou confessest thyself to be the murderer of Hartman?

CLAUDIEN.

You call it murder—so it may be called.
He at the moment lay unarm'd; I, therefore,
Can make no plea of self-defence. But murder,
Deliberately devised, ne'er stain'd these hands:
And if there be a man in this assembly
Who loves a virtuous woman—such, I trow,
In every court and crowd are to be found—
Let him declare how he should feel on hearing
Her fair name outraged by a sland'rous tongue,
The caitiff struggling to elude his grasp:
And if a fatal stroke by rage inflicted

He can in conscience deem deliberate bloodshed,
Being so circumstanced, I am a murderer.

JUNIOR JUDGE.

How camest thou hither? Didst thou not sail in the Mermaid, bound for Copenhagen?

CLAUDIEN.

I did: but agony of mind wrung from me, unawares, some words of exclamation and disclosure, which one of the crew overheard; and when that tempest, which lately rocked your walls, began to vex our course, and put the ship in peril, this man accused me as a murderer. The frightened mariners would no longer share the risk with such an unblessed passenger, and I was cast into the deep.

JUNIOR JUDGE.

Fearful extremity! How wert thou preserved?

CLAUDIEN.

I swam while strength remain'd, and then embraced

A floating plank, which bore me to the land.
The tempest and the sea had pity on me;
And will ye then destroy what they have spared?
I beg for mercy: I am not ashamed
To ask, ay, to implore your clemency;

For, guilty as I am, I am so circumstanced

That life is dear to me. (Pointing to Van Maurice, who is now on his knees, stretching out his hands to the Judges, but unable to speak.)

And see, who kneels before you! one who knelt not for his own life; who never, till this moment, bent his honoured knee but to that Almighty Judge, who hath commanded weak and erring men to be merciful, that they may obtain mercy.
[The Judges whisper to one another.]

JUNIOR JUDGE.

Thy case, Count Claudien, is piteous, though thou art very guilty. We must withdraw awhile before we make any reply to thy appeal for mercy. [The Judges withdraw.]

[Claudien, turning to Van Maurice, spreads out his arms, and the latter, rushing into them, strains him to his bosom.]

VAN MAURICE.

Who would not live or die for such a man? My noble friend! but thou shalt live. The very stones of these walls will cry out against them, if they have not mercy on thee.

KRANZBERG.

If the Judges suffer themselves to be deluded with all this mummery, they are no true successors of King Solomon.

VAN MAURICE.

Deceit dwells within thine own miserable breast, and thou perceivest deceit in every thing.

KRANZBERG.

There is little penetration required in this case. It is a mighty convenient thing to have the dagger of a friend and brother-in-law to clear one's way to a rich inheritance.

VAN MAURICE.

Thou liest most foully and most wickedly.

KRANZBERG (drawing from his cloak a concealed weapon, and rushing furiously on him).

The lie to me! thou half-condemned felon!

CLAUDIEN (doing the same, and putting himself between them).

Attack an unarmed man, thou hellish caitiff!

[They fight, and Ardusoffe and others endeavour to part them, but cannot effect it, till Claudien has run Kransberg through the body, and received a wound from him.]

This hand of mine is fated to shed blood. Caitiff as he is, I wish I had not slain him.

ARDUSOFFE.

See how he gathers in his wrung and withering features, as if he cursed us all in the very agonies of death.

CLAUDIEN.

Say not so! say not so! Who can divine the thoughts of a dying man, be he ever so wicked?—He is dead now, and I may soon be as him.

VAN MAURICE (alarmed).

What sayest thou? There is blood from thy side: thou art wounded.

CLAUDIEN.

I am faint and sick: let me have air, I pray you.

Re-enter the Judges, and resume their seats.

SENIOR JUDGE.

This is our decision. Forasmuch as the murder of Hartman was not a premeditated act, but perpetrated, though unjustifiably, in a moment of provocation and passion; and further, that the criminal hath delivered himself up to justice, making full confession of the crime, we remit the punishment of death, and condemn the Count Claudien of Denmark to perpetual banishment from the city and territories of Lubeck. In four and twenty hours from this time, thou must depart. Being ever again seen within the realm, after that period, death, according to the utmost rigour of the law, is thy portion.

CLAUDIEN.

I thank your clemency. If my soul and body keep together so long, I will obey you; but if otherwise, ye will not refuse to my mortal remains a spot of earth for their resting-place, and the dust of your land to cover them.—This is my request:—that I lie——may lie where my friend——(Struggling in vain to keep down his emotion.)—I thank your clemency.

(Is supported by Van Maurice.)

JUNIOR JUDGE (descending hastily from his seat).

What means this? has he slain himself?—And who lies here? Kranzberg dead, and bathed in blood! Such outrage in a court of justice!—Who permitted it? Everyone present is answerable to the law for this.

ARDUSOFFE.

Kranzberg, in the rage of disappointment, was, as Borion and all here present can witness, the aggressor. We endeavoured to separate them, but ere we could effect it, these bleeding wounds were given and received.

Enter Rosella, joyfully.

ROSELLA.

I have heard it—I have heard the joyful tidings!

(To Van Maurice.) Thou art acquitted and Claudien not condemn'd.

Ay, well may'st thou so hold him to thy heart!

I will embrace ye both.

VAN MAURICE.

Forbear, dear sister; do not press upon him.

ROSELLA.

What is the matter? There is no joy here.

Claudien, thou'rt very pale; there's blood upon thee.
O, misery, misery! (Wringing her hands.)

VAN MAURICE.

Do not give way to such frantic lamentations; he is severely wounded, but may yet recover. Have patience and do not distract him with outrageous sorrow.

ROSELLA.

I will be patient! yes, I will be patient!

'T is Heaven chastises; I will bear it meekly.
But is there yet for me no sound of kindness,—
No dear word of affection, gentle Claudien,
From thy pale lips, so pale and so compress'd?

Alas, alas! thou look'st upon the ground,
And dost not look at me!

VAN MAURICE.

He is very faint, and hears not what thou sayest.

[She embraces the knees of Claudien, who sinks slowly to the ground, supported by Van Maurice and Ardusoffe, and the curtain drops.]