# Dramas (Baillie)/The Homicide/Act 1

THE HOMICIDE.
ACT I.
SCENE I.—An Ante-chamber in the House of Van Maurice.
Enter Baron Hartman and Margaret, by different sides.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET.
HARTMAN (snatches the letter, opens it with agitation, reading it half aloud and half to himself).
"Only friendship to return for all.—Pleasure in your society as a neighbour and a kinsman.—Beg of you to accept my grateful acknowledgments." What is all this? Would she prolong the fooling of attendance another half year? Let her beware how she sports with devoted affection like mine. (Walks to and fro somewhat disturbed, then returns to Margaret.) I understand all this well enough. Let me find her in her own apartment. ​
MARGARET (preventing him as he endeavours to pass on).
Nay, Sir, you must not.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET.
HARTMAN.
MARGARET (alone).
SCENE II.
The Apartment of Rosella. She is discovered sitting by a table writing, and Claudien standing behind her chair, overlooking her as she writes.
CLAUDIEN.
That pretty hand, and those fair characters
So delicate! they should alone express
Words of a sweet and sisterly affection,—
Words of the dearer tenderness of love.
Have done with cold notes of formality;
Let Marg'ret henceforth write such things as those.
(Lifting her hand from the paper and caressing it.)
As delicate as if the early dew
Dropp'd from the lily's bell or hawthorn's blossom,
A fresh collection of all summer sweetness, Had been its daily unguent, it is mine;
Thou'st given it to me; ay, and it shall write
To me, to me alone, when I am gone.
ROSELLA.
When I shall think of nobody but thee,
I might, perhaps, betray our secret bond,
Beginning thus to some old gouty kinsman
A dull epistle—"My dear Claudien."
CLAUDIEN.
It is a galling weight about our necks,
Would we were rid of it!
ROSELLA.
Shall know how thou art circumstanced, he surely
Will not enforce upon thee an alliance
Unsought by thee, now thought of with repugnance,
Because he did at first, on thy behalf
Propose it to the parent of the maid,—
A maid thou'st scarcely seen, and never woo'd?
CLAUDIEN.
In reaching Copenhagen ere the court
Remove to Elsineur, that speedily
I may return to thee, my sweet Rosella,
A free and happy man.
ROSELLA.
CLAUDIEN.
Are very freedom, or are something better.
Still, to protect thee from all harm, to be
Near to thee always; sit by thee unchidden—
Read to thee pleasant tales—look in thy face,
And, all thy smiles and meaning glances scanning,
To do what they desire—will this be thraldom?
Will this be servitude?
ROSELLA.
When tired of it, thou wilt break loose, my friend.
CLAUDIEN.
But when will that be; say?
ROSELLA.
A face to gaze on, fairer than Rosella's.
CLAUDIEN.
I've seen, and yet the latchet of thy shoe
I'd rather tie and have one smile of thanks,
Than press a score of kisses on her lips.
ROSELLA.
CLAUDIEN.
Yet would I rather hear thy cheerful voice
Bidding me a good morrow, faith and truth!
Than all her wit and wisdom, were she learn'd
As Gottenburgh professor.
ROSELLA.
That I am not thy reasonable choice,
But one that has been fasten'd on thy fancy
By spells of witchcraft?
CLAUDIEN.
For how could that be reasonable choice
Which no deliberation knew. Thy countenance,
Such as it is—thy joyous playful countenance,
I look'd upon, and look'd upon again,
Till I became a fascinated thing,
As helpless as an infant.
ROSELLA.
CLAUDIEN.
For after I had seen thy face, I waited—
Waited with eager ears to hear thy voice,
And then I watch'd thee to observe thy movements.
Light step and graceful gesture—then I waited
To hear thy voice again, and then—
ROSELLA.
Have done with such a foolish list of thens!
Dost thou forget thou hast already won me?
I'll have thee presently, I do suppose,
Repeating all thy courtship o'er again,
And kneeling at my feet for perfect idleness.
CLAUDIEN.
Of being raised again by that white hand.
(Kneeling to her playfully.)
ROSELLA (laying her hand upon his head).
But keep thee down, for this thy mock humility,
Which is but vanity in cloak and vizard;
The bearing of success without misgiving
Or fear of change; the full security
Of an affianced lord.
Enter Baron Hartman behind.
CLAUDIEN.
Whilst thy soft fingers, mixing with my hair,
Gives thrilling so delightful! on such terms,
I'd gladly at thy feet kneel by the hour,
So to be mortified——
HARTMAN (rushing forward).
[Claudien starts up from the feet of his Mistress, and both seem surprised and embarrassed.]
ROSELLA.
HARTMAN.
ROSELLA.
HARTMAN.
CLAUDIEN.
HARTMAN.
CLAUDIEN.
HARTMAN.
CLAUDIEN.
ROSELLA.
HARTMAN.
ROSELLA.
HARTMAN.
ROSELLA.
HARTMAN.
ROSELLA.
HARTMAN.
[Exit, proudly.
CLAUDIEN.
ROSELLA.
CLAUDIEN.
ROSELLA.
CLAUDIEN.
ROSELLA.
CLAUDIEN.
ROSELLA.
CLAUDIEN.
ROSELLA.
CLAUDIEN.
Enter Margaret.
ROSELLA.
MARGARET.
CLAUDIEN.
MARGARET.
CLAUDIEN.
ROSELLA.
MARGARET.
ROSELLA.
MARGARET.
ROSELLA.
MARGARET.
SCENE III.
A Public Garden.
Enter Hartman, walking backward and forward in a perturbed manner, and presently enter Kranzberg, who stands observing him curiously before he speaks.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG.
HARTMAN.
KRANZBERG (alone).
SCENE IV.
A Library, with globes, cabinets, and other furniture, denoting the apartment of a student; a Table in front, on which burns a Lamp, the back of the Stage being entirely in shade.
Enter Claudien by a concealed door at the bottom of the Stage, who walks once or twice across it in a distracted manner, and then leaning his back against the wall, continues motionless.
Enter Van Maurice by the front, with a book in his hand, which he lays upon the table.
VAN MAURICE (after having turned over the leaves for some time).
CLAUDIEN (advancing).
VAN MAURICE.
What is the matter, Claudien? what has happened?
CLAUDIEN.
When I am able.
VAN MAURICE.
Sit down, sit down; thou art too weak to stand.
CLAUDIEN (sinking, half supported by Van Maurice, into a chair).
VAN MAURICE.
Ha! there is blood upon it; thou art wounded;
Thou 'rt faint and need'st assistance. (Going.)
CLAUDIEN (preventing him).
'Tis not my own blood, Maurice; would it were!
VAN MAURICE.
CLAUDIEN.
The clenched dagger—plunged it in his breast.
VAN MAURICE.
CLAUDIEN.
I've sent a sinful soul to its dread reck'ning.
VAN MAURICE.
His death is thy deliv'rance; and the laws
Of God and man will fully justify
An act of self-defence.
CLAUDIEN.
That I should do a fell—a ruffian's deed!
VAN MAURICE.
Speak with such vehemence of condemnation.
Hadst thou resisted provocation, surely
It had been well. Thou 'st done a fearful deed,
But 't was a reckless, instantaneous impulse.
CLAUDIEN.
And thoughts cross'd o'er my mind before I struck him.
Would it had been an instantaneous impulse!
VAN MAURICE.
CLAUDIEN.
A noble, gen'rous heart dwelt in my breast,
As they believed, and so, alas, did I.
But Providence has brought it to the proof;
It was a fiend's heart; not a noble one.
Maurice, Van Maurice, when upon thy shoulder
I leant this morning, list'ning to the praise
Which thy too partial friendship lavish'd on me,
That I deserved it not, full well I knew,
But little did I think a deed like this——
(Bursting into tears.)
VAN MAURICE.
Will praise thee still; thou art a noble creature.
CLAUDIEN.
I was a happy man, he was unhappy;
I at the moment arm'd, he weaponless;
I was the victor, he upon the ground.
I might have saved his life, and meant to save it;
But keen suggestions rush'd, I know not how,
Like blasts from hell, all nature's virtue searing;
Like poison'd arrows from an ambush'd foe;
Like gleams, revealing for one fearful instant
The weltering billows of a midnight deep,—
Athwart my mind they rush'd; and what came after!
O God! thy boundless mercy may forgive,
But I for ever am a wretched man!
VAN MAURICE.
Whom hast thou slain?—Hush, hush! there's people coming.
I hear strange voices and the sound of feet.
(Runs to the door, and locks it.)
Haste to the garden-gate,—go to thy lodgings,
Thou wert at any rate to sail to-morrow
For Copenhagen by the early tide;
Thy quitting Lubeck will not raise suspicion.
Take leave, then, of Rosella, at the hour
When she expects thee, as if nought gave pain
But leaving her. Go home, all will go well.
(Knocking at the door.)
Dost thou not hear? art spell-bound to the spot?
[The knocking repeated still louder without: Van Maurice returns to the opposite side and unlocks the door.]
Enter Kranzberg and two Officers of Justice.
KRANZBERG.
VAN MAURICE.
KRANZBERG.
VAN MAURICE.
KRANZBERG.
VAN MAURICE.
FIRST OFFICER (stepping eagerly up to Van Maurice).
VAN MAURICE (in confusion).
SECOND OFFICER (aside to Kranzberg).
KRANZBERG (after a pause, during which they all look on Van Maurice and on one another significantly).
[Whilst they are speaking, First Officer goes round the room, looking into every corner, and at last stoops and lifts something from the floor, at the bottom of the Stage.]
VAN MAURICE.
KRANZBERG.
FIRST OFFICER (advancing).
VAN MAURICE (repelling him).
KRANZBERG.
[They all endeavour to seize him, while he struggles with them; and then enter several Servants.]
FIRST SERVANT.
FIRST OFFICER.
FIRST SERVANT (showing a pistol).
[More armed Servants rushing in, surround Kranzberg and the Officers, and rescue Van Maurice.]
VAN MAURICE (recovering his composure).
All the Servants, speaking at once.
VAN MAURICE (to the Servants).
FIRST OFFICER.
VAN MAURICE (to Kranzberg).
KRANZBERG and SECOND OFFICER (both at once).
VAN MAURICE (to Servants).
[Kranzberg and Officers remain on the front, whilst the Servants retire to the bottom of the Stage.]
FIRST OFFICER (to Kranzberg).
KRANZBERG.
FIRST OFFICER.
[Kranzberg turns away in confusion, and pretends to speak to the Servants at the bottom of the Stage.]
SECOND OFFICER.
FIRST OFFICER.
SECOND OFFICER.
FIRST OFFICER.
SECOND OFFICER.
FIRST OFFICER.
KRANZBERG (advancing to the front).
[Exeunt. ​
SCENE V.
The Apartment of Rosella; she enters, followed by an old Seaman, speaking as she enters.
ROSELLA.
JACOME.
ROSELLA.
JACOME.
ROSELLA.
I hear them coming; do what I desired thee, quickly. [Exit Jacome.
Thank heaven! the voyage is but short; the time
Of his return fix'd as the calendar,
If that the fickle winds will give permission.
Enter Claudien and Van Maurice.
Ah! be as punctual to the promised time
Of thy return. And wilt thou not?
CLAUDIEN.
The fault shall not be mine, if I am not.
ROSELLA.
Has aught befallen to make thee on this point
Less sure than thou wert yesterday?—Dear brother,
You spoke so lightly of our parting then,
But now your cheer is wonderfully changed.
VAN MAURICE.
That may defer thy Claudien's return
For a short month or so.
ROSELLA (after looking at them inquiringly).
Upon your faces I do plainly read
A more distressing tale. Deceive me not:
Tell me the worst at once; I'm his betroth'd,
And have a right to know it. Have I not?
Have I not, gentle Claudien?
CLAUDIEN.
That a devoted heart can give. My life, All that deserves the name of life, I have
But in thy presence; to be absent from thee
Longer than strict necessity compels
Would be a wanton act of self destruction.
Trust, then, that he who is so strongly bound
Will soon return. The carrier-bird, released,
Points to one cherish'd spot her arrowy flight;
Not air's bright insects, nor earth's alpine peaks,
With purple berries clothed, her wonted lures,
From its true line can warp it e'en so much
As the vibration of a stricken cord.
ROSELLA.
Almost my husband, and here stands a brother,
And yet you deal with me in mysteries.
Fie! is this well? Have I deserved this wrong?
VAN MAURICE.
It is not want of confidence in thee
Which makes us so reserved; urge no further.
ROSELLA.
Some recent and disastrous event
To spare me pain. But ye mistake your aim.
Incertainty is aggravated pain.
Is he a ruin'd man? then I am ready
With heart and hand to sooth his poverty.
Is he proscribed by law? then I am ready
My country to abandon for his sake.
Say any thing, and I will bear it firmly
And meekly as I may.
CLAUDIEN.
With brighter omens of a glad return:
But now thou weep'st, because the very day
Of my return is doubtful. If I stay
Two weeks or three weeks longer than we reckoned,
Shall I not still be welcome?
ROSELLA.
No time can make thee otherwise than welcome;
To me most dearly welcome.
Keep thy mysterious secret, if thou must;
But make amends by swearing on this hand
Not to extend thine absence for a day
Beyond the added time which thou hast mentioned.
CLAUDIEN.
Not to be absent for a day—an hour
Longer than sad necessity compels me.
But thou meanwhile wilt keep me in thy thoughts.
Write to me often; wilt thou not, Rosella?
And be to me, in whate'er clime or country
A wayward fate may doom me to reside,
The very gleam and warmth of my existence.
ROSELLA.
What words are these? Thou never wilt return!
(Wringing her hands in anguish.)
VAN MAURICE (aside to Claudien).
Sister; thou givest way to apprehension,
Like a poor perverse wife who has been spoil'd
With long indulgence. 'T is a paltry proof
Of thy affection in an hour like this,
To add to his distress. Fie! be more generous!
ROSELLA.
Thou art not wont to chide. O, woe is me!
There must be something wrong—far wrong, indeed,
When he is sorrowful and thou unkind.
VAN MAURICE.
I meant not to have told thee till to-morrow.
Our cousin Hartman died last night.
ROSELLA.
Awfully sudden! I am sorry for it;
Yes; very, very sorry. Ah, poor Hartman!
I have, with too much levity, I fear,
Made his last days pass most uneasily.
He was vindictive, vain, and irritable:
But when the storm of passion passed away,
Who was more ready to repair a wrong
With generous amends? Alas! poor Hartman!
And thou too, gentle Claudien, weep'st for him,
Although he loved thee not. Well may'st thou weep;
For thou wert also one of his tormentors:
Ay, we did both of us too hardly press
Upon his natural infirmity.
CLAUDIEN.
VAN MAURICE (laying hold of him, and pressing his mouth).
Art thou a madman?—Come, the wind is fair,
The vessel is already weighing anchor.
Bid to your mistress, then, a short adieu,
As cheerly as you may. (They embrace and separate.)
Yes; bravely done, Rosella!—bravely done!
Thou art the firmest now.
ROSELLA (stepping after Claudien).
Enter Margaret.
MARGARET.
VAN MAURICE (to Claudien).
ROSELLA.
Of my pavilion; there I'll watch thy ship,
Till, like a sea-bird, on the distant waves
It fades away to nothing. Two hours still
It will be visible. Cast up thy mantle;
Make me, I pray, some signal from the deck.
Farewell, heaven prosper thee! farewell, farewell!
[Exeunt Claudien and Van Maurice, but the latter returns hastily, and whispers to Margaret.]
ROSELLA.
MARGARET.
ROSELLA.
[Exeunt.