The Sun.
London, England, 1835-10-20 00:00:00

Act 4. Scene I.

( Claudic in chains, asleep. Enter Herodia, led in by a
Gaoler, who retires.
HER. —Which way ? Where is he ? Claudio ! Son 1 My
chili !
Ha ! and asleep? Your mother cannot sleep.
Art' trosblcd in thy dreams ? Hush ! Calm as ease,
And child-days' innocence ; my gallant boy !—(Going up to
h im. )
One kiss I—your slumbers angel cannot chide ;
How many such, in happy times gone by,
We have imprinted on this placid brow.
Thou noble heart I—while others weep and wail,
Summing the brooding horrors of thy doom,
Thou art undaunted ; thou cans't close thine eyes ;
My boy !—my boy 1 Too like thy venturous sire;--
I long to rouse thee up, to clasp thy neck,
Yet it were sin to scare away thy sleep,
So balmy is it—so untouched by care.
He moves—stand (speaking to herself) back, and him start
not—My son 1
Claudio, my child !—thy mother bids thee wake.
CL AU. Weigh down my lids again, delicious sleep I—
( Half rising up.)
Keeping the lovely vision in my view.
I dreamt my gentle mother kiss'd my brow,
And call'd my name, and bless'd me in my cell.
Again, melodious visitings !—again,
Entrance my senses, dwell upon my soul,
Sweet as the echoes of a seraph's song,
The lone ears ravishing of maid inspir'd.
Again, again, soft slumbers close my eyes !—(Coniposing
himself.)
HER.--My son 1 My son !
CLA U.— What waking • dream is this ?
( Starting up.)
Sleep is not on me now ; and yet, a voice--(Pausing.)
Ha ! is it thou, bless'd spirit--sent to warn,
And cheer, and comfort me? Has thy fond grief
Exceeded mortal bearing ? Art thou pass'd ?
Jesu Maria 1 Ora pro nobis.—( Crossing himself.)
Thou weep'st !—Alas ! it is for me to weep;
What should thy holy nature with a tear ?
HER. —My son ! my son !
CLAU.— The voice is true as life !
Art thou the apparition of that saint,
My mother, once ?—Or a'rt thou, can'st thou be,
In spite of heartless gaolers, bolts, and chains,
My mother in the flesh ? Resolve my doubts.
Those sobs are human—lt is, it is thou!—(They rush into
each other's arms.)
HER.—My boy My son I My child I My noble child !

Further on in the same scene thefollowiug dialogue and action
ensues.
RICARDOP.—If I'm a traitor, I am not alone.
CLAU.—HOW ?
Rte. What is she ?
CLAU. My Mother ?—site is pure
As good mons' guardian angels.
HER. Woe is me !—(ln distress.)
CLAU.—If you are sent a spy upon our grief,
To baulk its last indulgence, and belie,
Say so, and we submit—if not, begone !—( Haughtily. )
HER.—Forbear, forbear !—(to Clan.)
Rte. You have slight cause for scorn,
Hot-headed youth ! as rash as you are rude--
Reef you the sails of your preposterous pride.
I have digested scorn enough to burst
The stomach of my pride ; if not from you,
From those consider'd yours—your rugged sire,
Your sister, Sir I
CLAU. Sweet Mother I this is new ?
Rte.—They did not deem it worth a second thought,
Ricardos, who has fought his way to fame,
Ricardos sought the proud Octavia's hand;
Ricardos was rejected I
CLAU. Noble Girl
Rte.—lf I do live, the noble girl is mine,
Then help you those who list.
CLAU. A traitor's wife?
Rte.—Or wife or mistress, as I please.
HER. My son I—(With alarm at his
manner.)
ane.—You goad me at a vantage—l am chain'd.
HER.—Your mistress, miscreant?
Ric. Traitress I—( Aside to Herodia.)
CLAU. We are mock'd.
Rte.—. The mocks recoil on those who spurned me, those
Presumptuous to account Ricardos' love
A thing beneath their knowing.
HER. Sir 1 begone.—( Entreatingly.)
CLAU.—If you would timely choke me with mine ire,
And snatch me from the fate the foe prepares,
Tarry you there, and tire your traitor's tongue.
Ric.—Be not so supercilious—you are chain'd
Who fitter, proud one ! for a traitor's toy
Than, Sir ! a traitress' daughter?
HER. I am lost.—( Swoons. )
CLAU.—Thou lie personified !—( To Ricardos)—my couch is
hard,
Lay there, a space, thy venerable—( Laying Herodia on his
pallet. )
Who calls my mother " Traitress" to my face,
Tho' cas'd in triple steel-4 Rushing on Ricardos.)
Rte. Stand back !—( Draws. )
CLAU. Lay on ;
I flinch from traitors' swords ? a blow ! a blow 7—( Striking
him with his chains and disarming him.)
That in thy teeth, and " traitress" down thy throat
Enter two or three Guards, hastily.
Good gaolers I have beat a rogue to-day,
Who call'd my mother, " Traitress "—there he lurks !
His lips chokefull of lies, like vipers' young,
Jostling each other in their parent's mouth.
Let him of you, raio never was chastis'd
With h►s own staff, be trustier than he—( Giving the sword)
To have a charge of this.—Keep silence, knaves I
Here is a noble lady you disturb.—(Clau. attends to his
mother. )
Rte.—Stint him his chain his honours of that stuff;—(To
Gaolers.)
It bristles ei e you breathe on't ; would you speak
One word, without its license, stint his chain !

CLAD.—What mutters he ? Look, ruffian, on your work.
Why, were this lov'd one black as thou in crime,
As callous in her heart, and as accurs'd,
I would not let a King's tongue taint her name,
Aud shall I let a coward's ? Is she not
The mother, wretch ! that bore me ?—ls she not • -
The mother that bath shaned all mother's else,
For doting, loving-kindness, and fond care ?
In the second scene of the same (the Fourth Act), we find
the following allusion to a well-known traditional supersti-
tion of Spain.
First Warrior.—Hist, hist 1 A miracle !
Second Warrior.—The solemn bell
Tolls through the welkin of its own accord.—(They cross
themselves.)
SEB.—AII hail ! prophetic sounds 1 Etherial chimes,
Struck by etherial hands 1 A solemn knell
Of terror to the wicked—bodings, signs
Impalpable—to worshippers, a peal
Inspiring holy hope, and high resolves ;
Alt self-sustaining, like the power of God.
First Warrior.—Tradition tells, this moon 'tis threescore
years
So toll'd, miraculous, a passing bell,
At dead of night, thro' Saragossa's towers.
Third Warrior.—A never-failing omen, on the CYO
Of death, among Spain's mighty ones !
San. Brave hearts 1
•
Be it a fresh incentive—a loud cry
Of a destroying angel o'er 3 oa hordes,
Exciting you to slny ; a warning sound ;
YOB mighty traitor's to his native Spain,
Yon rcnegado's death-sound, and last knell 1---(As it ceases a
dread silence ensues for a space.)
Now, Fathers', hold your breath, and steal, as tho'
A footfall would uprouse a ravening beast
Sleeping beside the promise of your homes
But, when the bloody savage is at bay,
Then mid the firmament with shouts, and drive,
Your never-tiring blades, with frantic force,
As tho' each home-descending thrust could save
Your children, fathers' or their mother's lives !
( Exeunt enthusiastically. Bell toiling again, amidst
thunder and lightning.)

TETA 741.79..--An inquest was lao,
T Horwood, a fanner. of V- • week held on
locked i“,••
—aistiam, aged 50, who died of a
. .

occasioned by injuries received when out shoot-
ing—his gun having accidentally gone off, and lodged the
contents in his right arm.