Robert the Devil : TEI edition Lacy, Michael Rophino TEI conversion Lou Burnard Privately distributed by the Digital Lacy Project L0459 The Lacy Project waives all rights to the TEI encoding applied to this material, which is believed to be in the public domain. You may copy, modify, distribute and perform this work freely. Lacy, Michael Rophino Robert the Devil; or, The Fiend-Father A Grand Romantic Opera in three acts The Music by Meyerbeer. Written and Adapted to the English stage 64 pp (UM copy: 336 - 400) Lacy's Acting Edition, volume 31, No. 0459 N02128 HVD from HT UM from HT Premiered at Theatre Royal, Covent Garden 21 Feb. 1832; Nicoll date 1830-02-02 MELODRAMA Robert, Duke of Normandy Robert. Bertram Bertram. King of Sicily King. Arnaud Arnaud. Alberti Alberti. Bruno Bruno. Alan Alan. Scribe Astoroth Ast. Demon Herald. Demon. Royal Herald at Arms Herald. Major Domo of the Palace Major-D. High Priest Knights, Squires, Pages, Cup bearers, Men at Arms, &c., &c. Knights. A Voice. Isabel Isabel. Alice Alice. Helena Phantom Nuns, Peasants, Ladies of the Court, Maids of Honour, &c. Peasant Girl. Peasant Girls. [Multiple speakers] Alberti & Knights. Demons. Alice, Bertram, Robert. All. Arnaud & Bertram. CHORUS. Chorus of Knights. Chorus of People. Full Chorus. Isabel & Alice. Isabel and Alice. King & Knights. King and Knights. Robert & Bertram. Robert and Knights. Together. Voices. Standardize header components TEI autotagging by Gemini Pro 2.5 ROBERT THE DEVIL OR THE FIEND-FATHER. A GRAND ROMANTIC OPERA IN THREE ACTS. The Music By Meyerbeer. Written and Adapted To the English Stage By M. Rophino Lacy, author of Cinderella - The Maid of Judah - Fra Diavolo The Turk in Italy Love and Reason- Love in Wrinkles — The Two Friends -- Napoleon — The Israelites in Egypt - Jephtha's Vow The Blind Girl &c., &c. Thomas Hailes Lacy, 89 Strand, (Opposite Southampton Street, Covent Garden Market.) London. Robert the Devil or the Fiend-Father

First performed at the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden, On Tuesday, February 21st, 1832.

Characters Robert, Duke of Normandy surnamed the Devil Mr. Braham. Bertram the Fiend-Father Mr. Reynoldson. King of Sicily Mr. Diddear. Arnaud a Norman Minstrel Mr. Keeley. Sicilian Knights Alberti Mr. Durnset. Bruno Mr. Henry. Alan Duke Robert's squire Mr. Holl. Scribe to Duke Robert Mr. W. Payne. Astoroth , Spirit of Fire and Prince of Grenada Mr. Irwin. Demon Herald. Royal Herald at Arms Major Domo of the Palace High Priest Mr. Morley. Knights, Squires, Pages, Cup bearers, Men at Arms, &c., &c. Isabel Princess of Sicily Miss Shirreff. Alice affianced to Arnaud Miss Inverarity. Helena the Phantom Abbess of St. Rosalie Mrs. Vedy. Phantom Nuns, Peasants, Ladies of the Court, Maids of Honour, &c.

SCENE.—Palermo and its Environs.

COSTUMES. Crimson surcoat trimmed with silver, ring armour legs and arms, cap and white feathers; spurs, gold chain, waist belt, and sword. Black surcoat trimmed with gold, black ring armour, black cap and feathers. Long embroidered yellow shirt, with purple robe and crown. Yellow shirt, dark tights, and ancle boots; cloak, and round cap. Suits of mail and surcoats. Grey shirt, dark tights, and buff shoes. Armour arms and legs, red surcoat, red cap. Red close fitting dress and robes; 2nd—Complete mail. Tabards and truncheons. White robes with scarlet stole. Scarlet merino tunic over white skirt and sleeves, embroidered with gold and silver; long hair, embroidered veil. Grey tunic over yellow body and skirt, mantle and hood. Dark dresses and black veils; 2nd—Short ballet dresses and wreaths.
The Vocal Pianoforte Score of the Music tallying with this version is expressly arranged for it. (Enquire of the Publisher.) Coloured Sketches of the Costumes and Scenery in this Opera may be had of the Publisher.
ACT I.
SCENE I. —The Bay of Palermo, with the City on the opposite shore. On the R. U. E. is a large tent guarded by two Sentinels. On the L. 2 E. stands another tent. Numerous Knights, with Pages and Attendants serving them, are discovered drinking at separate tables, and of the roughest kind, placed R. Towards L., stands a table covered with a rich cloth, and by it are two gilt arm chairs. After a few bars of the Introductory Chorus, Robert of Normandy, and the Knight Bertram enter from the tent, L., with several Pages and Attendants, and take their places at the table L. INTRODUCTORY BACCHANALIAN CHORUS OF KNIGHTS. With wine, and jest, and gladness, We'll crown this happy day; While ev'ry thought of sadness We banish far away. Fill up The cup! Fill high to overflowing! The heart To cheer, Pour forth the juice divine! The sword And spear Awhile aside now throwing, We'll quaff, And laugh, And drain the sparkling wine. Robert & Bertram. Yes, we'll drain the sparkling wine. Robert. (rising.) Illustrious knights of fame, Your friendship thus I claim! To your glory and praise High this wine cup I raise. Knights. (rising also.) Our heart, brave knight, Your courtesy repays. (resuming Chorus.) Fill up The cup! &c. To joy still e'er inclining, We hail each new delight; Our hearts still e'er resigning To wine and beauty bright. Alberti. (advancing L. with Bruno.)

Hark thee, Bruno; a word in thine ear.

Bruno.

What is't, Alberti?

Alberti.

What think'st thou of this foreign knight who has pitched his tent right close to ours? By my troth, his wealth must be enormous! Hast thou noticed his numerous train, his army of squires, pages, and attendants?

Bruno.

He has a noble presence, and his armour is magnificent.

Alberti.

But can'st tell who he be? and what brings him here to Sicily?

Bruno.

He comes, no doubt, like to ourselves, to break a lance at the tournament given by the king of Sicily; and the rich prize of which is to be the fair Isabel, his daughter. There be knights from all parts of Christendom.

Alberti.

True! but they are known, whilst this stranger— have you even heard his name?

Bruno.

No; he comes from Normandy—'tis all I've learnt.

Alberti.

And his black-looking companion, there?

Bruno.

Oh, he bears too ill a countenance for me to court his acquaintance.

(they retire to the table.)
Robert. (to Bertram.)

How now, Bertram—thy wine languishes in the cup. What ho! (to Cup-Bearers.) Fill again! Illustrious cavaliers, what shall be our toast?

Bruno. (raising high a cup.)

“To the conqueror in this day's tourney!”

All.

A pledge! Hurrah!

MARTIAL SONG.—Robert. Robert. The tourney begins! Behold the knight advancing! Arm'd cap-à-pie he enters the field; Proudly array'd his eager steed is prancing, While firmly he grasps his lance and his shield. The trumpet rings loud! The barriers wide-extending, Onward he spurs with fierce and deadly aim; His foe bites the dust; while, to the skies ascending, Loud shouts around the victor proclaim. Chorus of Knights. His foe, &c., What is the meed for knightly valour meetest, When conquered foes in chains are bound? What is the meed to warrior's heart the sweetest, When with the wreath of victory he's crown'd? Glory and love are fairest in his eyes! Sordid desires his bosom ne'er defile; And still he deems his proudest prize The guerdon of fame, and beauty's smile! Chorus of Knights. And still, &c. Enter Alan down descent from R., preceding Arnaud. Alan. (respectfully to Robert, who has reseated himself at table, L.)

Most gracious lord, I bring before you a joyous minstrel, whom we have just stopped, thinking he might contribute to your entertainment. He says he has just arrived from France.

Robert.

Ay? From what part?

Alan.

From Normandy.

Robert. (with lively emotion.)

From Normandy?

Bertram. (in a low voice to Robert, across the table.)

From your ungrateful country.

Robert. (rising and addressing Arnaud.)

Come forward, varlet! Thou hast the skill of minstrelsy? Is it so?

Arnaud.

Why, truly, mighty sir, I can't deny my skill; and what's more, I care not to keep it to myself.

Robert. (throwing him a purse.)

Take this, and requite my largess with thy choicest legend.

Arnaud.

Shall it be gay or pitiful? For I have many tales very gay, and many exceedingly pitiful. Or shall it be terrible? A tale likely to make everybody wretched that listens to me; or miraculous, or—

Robert.

Pshaw! Any thou wilt, so thou'lt begin.

Arnaud.

In truth, gentle knight, all my tales are so very good, that it be no easy matter to know which of them to begin with. It will depend upon taste, and the humour of the listeners. But I will sing you a right merry ditty which is a general favourite.

LEGENDARY BALLAD.—Arnaud. Arnaud. Long ago, as they tell, Within a forest dell, There liv'd, down in a well, A nymph of beauty rare! Of all beneath the skies, She most of all did prize A cat, with diamond eyes That frightfully did glare! This cat— Robert. (after many signs of impatience.)

A plague of thy cat, thou mewling idiot! No trifling, fool! know'st thou where thou art? Hast thou no true story?

Arnaud.

True? That's a slur upon my budget! Noble knight, all my stories are true stories, “Sir Palamede and the the Fiery Dragon,” “The bear and the Brazen Tower,” but stay! there is one tale more especially famous throughout all France, and of awful interest; nor more nor less than “The true History of our young Duke of Normandy, surnamed Robert the Devil.”

Knights.

Robert the devil?

Arnaud.

Ay! Robert the Devil—that profligate limb of Lucifer who, for his evil doings, has been chased away from his native land, no one caring what has become of him.

(Robert draws his dagger, Bertram hastily stops his hand.
Bertram.

Be more prudent!

Robert. (turning to Arnaud, with ill assumed indifference.)

Let it be that; begin.

Arnaud.

Ahem! be silent and pay attention; if ye be knights of taste, it be worth the hearing.

LEGENDARY BALLAD.—Arnaud. Arnaud. In Normandy there once did reign A prince most noble and renown'd; His daughter, Rosalie, proud and vain, Upon all her suitors still frown'd; When one day on a coal-black steed, Came a knight from a far-distant land; And she, so proud, with hapless speed, On him bestow'd her heart and hand. (with a mysterious air. Fatal event! story of woe! This stranger knight was, as they tell,— Knights. (with curiosity.)

Well? as they tell—

Arnaud. One of the fall'n! of man the foe! He was a fiend! a fiend from hell! Knights.

Bless us! a fiend?

Arnaud.

A fiend from hell.

Knights. (laughing among themselves.)

He tells it well.

Arnaud.

A fiend from hell!

From this foul bond there sprang a son, The dread of all both far and near; (shuddering. 'Tis Robert—Robert, whom all men shun— The Demon's child! a name of fear! He spreads all around him dismay— He conquers in each listed fight— The loveliest fair he bears away! Ah! should this land his steps invite, Innocent maids, fly from his snares! Robert is nigh! beware his spell!
Knights. (smiling to each other.)

Beware his spell!

Arnaud. His father's look and heart he bears, And is, like him, a fiend from hell. Knights. (bantering as before.) He, too, is a fiend! Arnaud. A fiend from hell. Knights. Robert's a fiend! Arnaud. A fiend from hell!
Robert. (who has with difficulty curbed his anger.)

I can control my rage no longer. Ho! men-at-arms. Seize this insolent vassal; I am his liege and master; I am Robert of Normandy.

All. (startled.)

How!

Arnaud. (falling on his knees.)

Mercy! mercy! Sweet angelic master, forgive me!

Robert.

I have power of thy life as my serf and vassal.

Arnaud.

I don't dispute it.

Robert.

I grant thee one short hour. Make thy speediest prayer, and then— (turning coolly to his Followers.) let him be hanged on the nearest tree.

Arnaud.

Oh la! oh la! Take pity on me, noble knight and infernal master! I'm come all the way from Normandy with my bride that is to be, and it will break her heart if I should be hanged before we're married.

Robert.

Thy intended bride, say'st thou? Hold a while! (the Guards release Arnaud.) She is doubtless pretty?

Arnaud.

They call us in Normandy the beautiful couple. It would be a pity to spoil the pair.

Robert.

Thy words soften me.

Arnaud.

Bless your soft heart.

Robert.

On account of thy sweetheart's charms, I grant thee thy life.

Arnaud. (with a sigh of relief.)

You grant me what I most value.

Robert. (emphatically.)

But—

Arnaud.

Eh! wha—what means your terrible but?

Robert.

I claim her as my property. Go, some of ye, and lead her here. (Alan and a party go off up the slope, R. H.) Sir Knights, ye are gallant, and I commit her to your hands.

Arnaud.

My Alice to their hands! A lamb to the wolves! Oh, most gracious Duke Robert, Robert the Dev—

Robert.

Be silent! Dar'st thou still to murmur when I have had the goodness to pardon thee?

Arnaud. (aside.)

Oh, confound your goodness! miserable devil that I am! I lose my wife before marriage! If it had been after, indeed—

Robert. (returning to the table, L. H.)

Fill the cups again!

Enter Alice, down slope, R. H., forcibly conducted by Alan, and the Duke's Pages. Alice and Knights. Alice. Why this rudeness? Ah, for mercy, let me go! Why is't ye seek to fright me? Knights. A glorious prize! both young and fair. Alice. Spare me! your mercy shew! Knights. No, no! the gift is all too rare; In faith, it were pity to slight thee. A kiss to each thou'lt not deny? The forfeit due thou may'st not fly; Come, then, be kind; do not say no! Such slight reward quickly bestow. Alice. (breaking from them.) Away! discourteous knights, your sport forego. Robert. (turning round.)

Ha! what do I see? Alice!

Alice. (casting herself at his feet.)

Ha! Duke Robert, protect me from their violence!

Robert. (sternly to the Knights, who have followed her.)

Stand back! I am her protector. The same breast hath nourished us, and that is a sacred claim. I pray ye, sirs, to retire hence, and leave us to ourselves.

Bertram.

Follow me, Sir Knights, and I can lead where a livelier sport shall entertain us, and be a welcome change.

Exeunt Bertram and Knights, R. H.
Arnaud. (humbly to Robert.)

Mayn't I remain too, noble knight?

Robert.

No—begone!

Arnaud.

What, and leave you all alone with—

Alice. (aside to Arnaud.)

Wait for me on yonder hill, and I will rejoin thee speedily.

Arnaud.

The sooner the better, for I don't like your present company; he's as great a devil as ever he was.

Exit up the slope, R. H.
Alice. (kneeling to Robert.)

Oh, my prince, my master!

Robert. (raising her kindly.)

Call me thy brother. Banished by my rebellious subjects, I wander an exile in a foreign land; but my heart is still the same. And now, Alice, wherefore is it that I see thee in Sicily? what comest thou to do at Palermo?

Alice.

I have quitted my humble cottage in our own dear Normandy on a mission to seek you, and fulfil the command of your lady-mother.

Robert.

My mother! speak! whatever be her desire I will instantly obey it.

Alice.

Alas, my lord, her sorrows have ceased; she is— dead!

Robert.

Dead! adored parent! dead! oh, anguish!

Alice.

Her last thoughts were for you, Lord Robert. I attended her throughout her fatal illness, and her sole consolation was her dear son's remembrance.

(Robert sinks on the chair, L. H. and drops his head on the table, overcome with grief.
AIR.—Alice. Alice. “Alas, my son!” she oft would cry, “Tho' far from me thou'rt fled away, “For thee will heave life's latest sigh, “As death's awful call I obey! “From the snares of the bad may'st thou fly! “There is one will e'er be thy stay: “As upon earth, so in the sky, “Thy mother still for thee will pray!” Robert.

And the son she so loved received not even her dying blessing!

Alice.

Her last wishes she confided to me alone. “When I have ceased to live,” she said, “seek out my son. Tell him, for his soul's welfare, to beware! There is a dark and evil power hovers round him that would drag him to perdition! Be thou his good angel, Alice, and save him; and bid him, some day when he shall be worthy of it, to read this writing traced by an expiring mother's hand!”

(Alice offers a sealed paper to Robert, who shrinks from receiving it.
Robert.

No, no; I am not worthy of it; let the precious trust still remain in thy keeping. Alas! every grief assails me at once. To thy friendly bosom I will confide that (added to my other woes) I am doomed to the torments of a fruitless passion.

Alice.

You love?

Robert.

Without hope. Know all my misery; when I first beheld the Princess of Sicily, the beautiful and far-famed Isabel, her charms won my soul! she smiled with favour on my suit, and I fancied I had touched her heart, when, one day, maddened with love and jealousy, (for I had heard her hand was promised to the Prince of Grenada) I boldly endeavoured to bear her off. I withstood her father, and the united attack of all his cavaliers.

Alice.

Rashness!

Robert.

I was on the point of falling beneath their swords, when suddenly there stood at my side a powerful knight, in ebon armour, and mounted on a black steed. With lightning speed he felled my antagonists to the ground, and bore me off unhurt. To him, to Sir Bertram, my preserver, and ever since my friend, I owe the victory and my life; but, alas! I lost Isabel and happiness for ever.

Alice.

And the princess?

Robert.

From that day I have never beheld her. I am now returned hither only in the fond hope thst, contesting the prize of arms at the tournament, I may see her once more, and perhaps yet win her.

Alice.

If her heart ever preferred you, she will still be faithful to you.

Robert.

Yet how be sure of that?

Alice. (smiling.)

It is a question easily asked. Write, my lord.

Robert.

Thou counsel'st me to my liking.

(going to his tent and calling.)

What ho! my scribe. I will sue for pardon, and plead my passion's violence.

Enter the Duke's Secretary with writing gear, and Robert signs to him to sit at the table, which he does, and prepares to write. Robert.

Yet, Alice, now I bethink me, the letter written—who may deliver it?

Alice.

I, my lord; the wit is keen that serves whom it doth love.

Robert.

'Tis well.

(he dictates to the Scribe in dumb show.
Alice.

Be you not far from me, my lord; for I have hope of bringing a speedy and a welcome answer.

Robert.

Thou art my guardian angel. Here! good speed attend thee!

(imprinting the pummel of his sword upon the letter, he gives it to Alice, who is running off towards R., when suddenly encountering Bertram, who has just entered, she retreats with an exclamation of fear to L. C.)
SONG.—Alice and Robert. Alice.

Ha!

(in a low voice to Robert, pointing to Bertram.) Who's yon? that man of louring brow?
Robert. The knight I nam'd just now; My friend, my more than brother. Such look of wild dimay Why doth thy face display? Alice. (trembling.) 'Tis because, in the house of my mother There hangs an ancient picture, showing Th' Archangel Michael, Satan overthrowing; And I find— Robert. Go on! what makes thee thus tremble? Alice. —He much doth resemble— Robert. (eagerly.) The Archangel? Alice. (with trepidation.) Not at all. The other! (pointing downwards. Robert. What childish folly! There, haste away. Alice. You shall not reproach me with delay.
(she kisses Robert's hand, and keeping aloof from Bertram, runs up the ascent, R., where Arnaud is seen to meet her joyfully, and both disappear. Bertram.

Thy new conquest, Robert, seems wholly devoted to thee.

Robert.

Her gentle breast is moved by gratitude.

Bertram. (with sarcastic bitterness.)

Gratitude! And thou believest in gratitude? It is ever the foremost word in the mouth of the ungrateful. Tell me, what was thy conference with Alice?

Robert.

I'll tell thee all. She is my messenger to Isabel, to apprise her of my arrival, and to obtain my pardon.

Bertram. (gloomily.)

Thou still wilt go, in this, 'gainst all my counselling.

Robert.

I cannot, will not live without Isabel. In spite of every opposer, I will win her in the tournament.

Bertram. (aside.)

Thou never shalt!

Robert.

My coursers are strong, and my armour hath been tried against the bravest in the world.

Bertram. (aside,)

I will strip thee of it this very hour!

Robert.

My wealth, too, gives me level with the proudest suitor.

Bertram. (aside.)

Thou shalt not long possess it. (turning with a smile to Robert.) Thou say'st truly in all, Robert; but I am dull with thy love musing, and till the trumpet ring us to the lists, let us seek for pastime. And, lo! 'tis at hand; for, in happy hour, the knights are assembling, and seem prepared to try a few casts of the dice. What say'st thou? Shall we join, and play also?

Robert. (moodily.)

I have forsworn play for ever.

Bertram.

More of thy folly! Fortune, in smiling mood, may add to thy riches, and make thee surer of thy Isabel. Come, we'll make them our bankers, and draw largely on their purses.

Robert.

Well, with all my heart; I yield to thee in everything.

During the foregoing, the Knights re-enter; their Pages bearing caskets filled with money. The table is covered with a rich tapestry by four Pages, and dice-boxes are placed upon it. CONCERTED PIECE. Bertram. (advancing courteously towards the Knights.) Brave knights, the Duke of Normandy To join your game you'll not deny? Robert. In the Lists, lance to lance, A rougher game we'll try; But to-day at the game of chance Our strength we'll measure. Knights. Your challenge, brave knight of France, We all accept with pleasure. Let fortune's hand declare Who shall, at play, the trophy bear. Robert. Make a friendly ring; And while roll the dice along, In chorus let us sing Your old Sicilian song— How never “golden treasure” Could yet “compare with pleasure,”— We'll sing it as we play. Knights. That old Sicilian lay, Familiar as the day, We'll sing it as we play. To our game, to our game! And Fortune, the purblind dame, Shall rule the day. SICILIAN BALLAD, WITH CHORUS. Robert and Knights. Fortune! in thy smiles confiding, Thy protection I demand. Come! and o'er me now presiding, Guide aright my daring hand. Gold's a vanishing treasure; The wise still make it fly; While gold brings hours of pleasure, To lose it never sigh! Bertram. Let Fortune smile or Fortune frown, To me life's all a jest; With wine, sorrow I drown, Whilst I win, I laugh at the rest. Robert. Of all the gifts that life can crown, Pleasure is the best. (Scene of the Dice.—Beginning the game of hazard, a purse being staked on each side—Alberti rattles the dice, and makes the first throw, while the Knights anxiously crowd round, and look on—Robert throws in return, by which time Bertrand has advanced to his side. Robert. (with careless indifference.) Ay, I've lost. My revenge now; Come on—three purses of gold. (taking the purses from a casket held by a Page, he stakes them on the table. Knights. Your turn to throw. Robert. (throws.) Fourteen!—that's a fair cast, ye see; Fortune, capricious, may now favour me. (one of the Knights throws a higher number. Ha! deuce take the dice; I've lost my luck of old. Bertram. Tut, tut! Double your lay. Robert. (becoming gradually excited.) I stake down two thousand piastres. Bertram. Not half enough, I say— Five thousand. Knights. Five thousand! (aside to each other.) Their play is bold. Bertram. That's the way, When you play, To retrieve all disasters; The best plan, in the main. Robert. Think you so? Bertram. It's quite plain. (the throws are renewed on both sides, but still to the advantage of the Knights, who shew their gratification. Robert. (chafed.) Ha! 'sdeath and hell—lost again! Bertram. (soothingly.) Nay, but keep cool; That's the best rule. Anger is wrong, What says the song? “What's gold? A vanishing treasure; “The wise still make it fly! “If gold buy hours of pleasure, “To lose it wherefore sigh?” Knights. (laughing.) Right!—“What's gold?” &c. Robert. (now much excited.) In spite of the frowns of Fate, I'll not yet the game forsake. 'Gainst ye all round, see here—I stake My case of diamonds— Knights. (eagerly.) Diamonds, d'ye say? Robert. And my service of plate. Knights. And a service of plate? 'Tis just the thing! your bet we take. (aside.) We'll win his diamonds and his plate. Bertram. Wisely done; a mere troublesome weight To carry about, are diamonds and plate. (Alberti throws for the Knights, Robert after him. Robert. (striking the table violently.) By hell!—no more I'll play! Curst Fate! Bertram. (as before.) Nay, nay, dear friend, be cool! Your passion rule! Anger is wrong, Saith not the song— “What's gold?” &c. Robert. (desperate.) My horses I lay; my arms, and mail also; (he unbuckles his sword and lays it on the table. 'Tis all that's left me now, Like the rest let 'em go; I'll play in Fate's despite! Bertram. Perfectly right—very right! P'rhaps Fortune asham'd may grow, And send us a lucky throw Shall all we've lost repay. Knights. (with joy, aside.) He's fast our prey! Robert. (having thrown with the utmost excitement.) Fifteen! Knights. (after their throw.) Just the same! Robert. (throwing again.) Sixteen! Bertram. Said I not? Bravely done! Knights. (throwing again.) Eighteen! Hurrah! Robert. (with dismay.) Oh, despair! My all is gone! Knights. (aside, with exultation.) His all we've won. (the Knights take up the purses, diamonds, sword, &c., and the Pages bear away the table.) Robert. (with depression.) Yet, (worse than all to me,) My friend, my blind folly ruins thee. My arms, too—and my steeds! 'Tis childish to repine; Go, give them up the wealth no longer mine. (Bertram goes into the tent, L., accompanied by two or three of the Knights; and the armour and the chests of plate are seen conveyed across to the opposite tent by Robert's soldiers. Oh, rage and despair! This shame must I bear? (turning furiously on the Knights. By some hellish snare My destruction ye've plann'd! My passion beware! To mock me but dare, By Heaven, I swear Ye shall die by this hand. Knights. (to each other, deriding Robert's agitation.) Behold! his loss he can't bear; With spite hear him swear! His rage and despair He cannot command. Ah, Sir Knight, pray forbear, Your angry words spare, Or our wrath yet beware; Our swords are at hand. (Robert, finding himself unarmed, in his transport of rage, snatches up a seat, while the Knights stand on the defensive. Bertram, at this moment, re-enters from the tent. Bertram. Wherefore this noise? What mean these cries? (advancing to Robert. Come, come, be cool, Your passion rule; Anger is wrong, Goes not the song— “What's gold?” &c. Knights. (resheathing their swords and laughing.) Well said; yes “What's gold?” &c. (chinking the purses they've won.) Robert. (as before.) Oh, rage and despair! &c. Knights. (as before.) He's wild with despair! &c. (the Knights retire joyously into tent, R. Robert. (impetuously.)

Bertram, 'tis thy evil counsel has led me to this.

Bertram.

Do I not share in thy ill fortune?

Robert.

Oh, Isabel! thou art now lost to me, indeed. But ere I seek my death, I will once more, and for the last time, behold thee.

Exit Robert, L.
Bertram.

This eventful day will unite or part us for ever. Should he gain Isabel, he is torn from me. The art of hell must be employed to thwart him. His despair will do much, and Isabel may furnish him with arms. Their possession must be rendered useless. The renowned Prince of Grenada, though certain to overcome all others, is no equal match against Robert's power and skill; a more potent adversary must be found, and I will summon him straight. Ye Spirits of the middle Air, that are linked with us in evil, darken around me the light of day that, invisible to all, I may pursue my purpose. (the light is obscured, and a peal of thunder is heard, accompanied by a flash of lightning.) Well have ye obeyed. Lend me thy fire, thou electric fluid! (he holds up the point of his sword, and as a lightning flash strikes it, a portion of fire adheres to it. Astoroth! spirit of the undying flame! quit thy regions of everlasting fire, and attend my call. By the triple spell that commands thee, obey me!—appear! appear!—thrice I bid thee—appear! The earth opens, and Astoroth, the Spirit of Fire, rises, his head surrounded by a circlet of blue flame, his wings extended, and in his hand a blazing spear.

Ast.

Thy spell I obey, and thy commands will execute.

Bertram.

Fold thy wings, and come forth from thy circle of flame.

Ast.

Thy bidding is done.

Bertram.

From this, till midnight strikes, I claim thy services.

Ast. (bowing submissively.)

Thou art my master.

Bertram.

Thou must assume the mortal shape and title of Granada's Prince; and forthwith, with full retinue, present thyself at the King of Sicily's court. Conquer in the tournament all opposers, and claim for thy prize the Princess Isabel.

Ast.

The Prince of Grenada hath arrived within two leagues.

Bertram.

This shall prevent his further advance until tomorrow.

(plucking a lock of hair, and dropping it into the fiery circle. Fall his steed! Its rider bleed, And, till dawn of day, From Palermo stay!

'Tis done; haste, and meet me at the palace.

Exit Bertram—while Astoroth re-enters the circle of fire in which he rose, and disappears.
SCENE II. —The Exterior of the King of Sicily's Palace. A spacious terrace with steps, leading into an extensive garden. Pages of the Princess Isabel, Sentinels, and Attendants, are discovered; as also several young Peasant Girls, with petitions in their hands, waiting the approach of the Princess. Enter Isabel, R., followed by two Maids of Honour. RECITATIVE.— Isabel. Midst all this grandeur, with pain And regret, Fortune tries me; Midst pleasures and empty joys, Sad in heart I remain. A father's will denies me In choice of love my right— And sighs and tears are vain; Whilst my own Norman knight, Forsakes and flies me! AIR. Fortune, 'tis vain Thy smiles to gain; Nought soothes my pain! Fond dreams of love, All false ye prove! In one short day, Hopes, bright and fair, Have pass'd away Like breath of air! Isabel.

Heartless grandeur, how I disdain thy mockery! Pageantry and feasts surround me, but happiness flies me. Wretched Isabel! thy ungrateful Robert slights and resigns thee without a sigh. Oh, that I but knew whither he has fled!

Peasant Girl. (aside to her companions.)

We may approach her without fear; the petitions of the wretched she has never yet slighted. (advancing to Isabel.) Revered Princess, assist the unfortunate, who claim thy protection.

(the Princess graciously receives her petitions, which she commits to the care of her Maids of Honour.
Enter Alice, L. U. E., with Robert's letter. Alice. (aside.)

The opportunity seems favourable—why should I hesitate? Goodness speaks in her features. (advancing, and presenting the letter.) Revered Princess, assist the unfortunate who claim thy protection.

Isabel.

Thou seemest a stranger?

Alice.

I am but newly come to this land; but the person—

(markedly.)

from whom I come, and who is waiting nigh, is no stranger to your highness.

Isabel. (opening the letter, and with sudden joy, aside.)

Ha! may I believe the welcome tidings? Robert so near me! Fate, thou dost relent at last! Come hither, stranger; return, and lead hither the person who sent thee. Use thy best speed, and I will give thee cause to rejoice.

Alice. (aside, exultingly.)

I knew my counsel was good.

Exit, L.
Isabel. (gazing fondly on the letter.)

Ah, Robert! thou hast nought to fear from me.

AIR WITH CHORUS. Dear idol I adore, Oh, haste and glad mine eyes; The boon thou dost implore, To grant my bosom sighs! Peasant Girls. Princess whom all adore, May Joy e'er light thine eyes! To aid all who implore, Thy breast still sighs. (Isabel, with marks of kindness, dismisses the petitioners, who retire R. U. E. Enter Alice with Robert, L. U. E. Alice.

Take heart, my lord, and cast yourself at her feet. She has consented to hear you, which is very nearly a full pardon.

Exit Alice, L.
Robert. (advancing to Isabel, and sinking on his knee.)

Fair Isabel, let my penitence disarm your anger! The love that caused my guilt should plead my pardon.

Isabel.

Arise, Sir Knight.

Robert.

Do you, then, generously forgive my offence?

Isabel.

I ought to have fled your presence, or been deaf to your words; but my heart is too weak towards all it loves.

Robert.

Words of rapture!

Isabel.

If your heart be not changed, Lord Robert, you may, in the approaching trial of arms, prove it, and I will pray for your victory!

Robert.

Alas, Isabel, I am robbed of hope!

Isabel.

How!

Robert.

My folly maddens me. Oppressed by Fortune's spite, I have lost my armour and my trusty sword.

Isabel.

'Tis not yet too late; the loss shall be repaired.

Robert.

Ha!

Isabel.

Pages—haste and bring hither to this knight the best and richest suit within the palace armoury.

Exeunt Pages, R.
Robert.

Then I may defy the worst!

Isabel.

Thou knowest, perhaps, that my father has proclaimed my hand the prize of the tournay?

Robert.

I know it, and am blest.

Isabel.

But he did so because he deems his choice, the Prince of Grenada, invincible.

Robert.

Invincible! He hath borne that title for the last time.

Isabel.

He is looked for every moment, and, by my father's command, I must in this very place receive and welcome him. Leave it not, I beseech you, that my eyes may dwell, with anticipating joy, upon my deliverer. Robert kneels and kisses her hand—the Pages re-enter bearing a rich suit of polished armour. Behold!

Robert. (enthusiastically.)

Armed by you, victory cannot fail to crown me.

DUET.—Isabel and Robert Base fears, away now depart! This/Thine arm shall win the fight. High beats my bounding heart, With hope and soft delight! Exit Isabel, followed by two of the Pages, R.—the other two remaining with the armour. Enter, from the terrace, Bertram, with Demon-Herald. Bertram. (apart to the Demon-Herald.)

Astoroth hath placed thee under my orders, and I have fully instructed thee: Now, look thou do my bidding well, or tremble!

Demon.

Dread master, I will.

Bertram.

Under thy guise of Herald, lead him hence, and lose his steps in the neighbouring forest.

Demon.

He shall not fail to follow me.

Robert. (who has been gazing after Isabel.)

Oh! would that instead of meeting my rival in harmless tilting, I had him before me in single and deadly fight! (turning and seeing the false Herald.) What wouldst thou?

Demon.

To thee, Robert of Normandy, the Prince of Greneda, my master, sends formal challenge; and by my voice defies thee, not to a pageant tournay, but to deadly combat.

Robert. (with joy.)

Ha! my dearest wish is granted! Where is he? Guide me to him.

Demon.

Follow me; he waits thee in the neighbouring forest.

Robert.

One of us shall never quit it more.

Exit Robert, following the Demon Herald, and attended by the Two Pages, bearing his armour.
Bertram. (advancing.)

Ha, ha, ha!—go, and seek an empty shadow. Thou can'st not escape me, Robert; thou must be mine alone. The King of Sicily and his daughter approach, and the Knights are preparing for the tournament. Haste thee, Astoroth, the hour is come.

A confused crowd of Dancers, Singers, and Inhabitants of the city hasten down the terrace steps, and group themselves in various parties. CHORUS AND DANCE. Whilst around music is sounding, In the dance, joyously bounding, Come and join this festive day! Isabel, may fortune bless thee; Fondly may its smiles caress thee, And keep grief from thee ever away! During the above, enter, down the terrace steps, numerous Guards, Pages and Squires, carrying the arms and distinguishing pennons of the different Knights from all nations. They precede the King and Isabel, who are closely followed by the Nobles and Ladies of the court, Alice and Arnaud, Robert's Followers, Town-People, Populace, &c. The King and his Daughter ascend a raised throne, R. U. E. King.

Warriors, and honoured signiors, ye are welcome to our court. The appointed hour is nigh that will secure to the chosen of victory the sweetest prize that valour ever yet conquered or received; and we now but wait the appearance of one justly dear to us, and by renown known to ye all, even the Prince of Grenada, ere we bid the trumpet call ye to the lists.

Bertram. (aside.)

Haste thee, sluggish Astoroth!

Enter a Royal Herald-at-Arms. Herald.

Sire, the Prince of Grenada has entered the palace, and claims the honour of being armed for the combat by the hands of the Princess Isabel.

Bertram. (aside.)

I triumph! The phantom duke is come, while Robert wanders in the mazes of the wood.

King.

How now, daughter, hast thou no reply? Go, herald, tell the prince his boon is granted, and our daughter awaits his coming.

(Isabel mutely inclines her head to the Herald, who departs.
Alice. (aside.)

Alas! where is Duke Robert? Honour calls him, yet he appears not.

The trumpets sound, and the Banner, two Pages, and two Squires of the pretended Prince of Grenada precede Astoroth as he enters bareheaded in the armour of the Prince. He advances to the King and Isabel, and receives from the latter, (who has taken them from his Pages,) his casque and sword, while eight of his Attendant Knights sing the following chorus. CHORUS. Sound, trumpets, sound! your martial accents blending, His praise proclaim whose banner we serve. Sound, trumpets, sound! upon his shield descending, Cupid and Mars his arm will nerve. (the Pages of the various Knights present them their arms at the same time.) Bertram. (approaching Astoroth, aside.)

Remember, Astoroth, to claim the princess for thy bride.

Ast.

I will not fail.

King. (descending from the throne with Isabel.)

Prince, and valourous knights, to horse! The tournament ended, I claim ye for my guests at the royal banquet.

Isabel. (aside.)

Alas, in vain I strain my eyes; I behold him not. Doth he mock my love? Cruel thought! My hand is the prize, and Robert's banner is absent!

King.

Isabel, let thy voice proclaim the lists are open, and make the true hearts of chivalry beat high at thy accents.

FINALE TO ACT I. (a loud call of trumpets is heard without.) Chorus of Knights. The signal we hear and obey! Its sound calls aloud—“Haste away.” Chorus of People. Away! Isabel. Its voice calls aloud—“Haste away.” AIR.—Isabel. Hark! the trumpet afar Rings its piercing call! In the gay mimic war Fly to conquer or fall. Alberti & Knights. Hark! hark, loud sounding, The trumpets call! Our hearts, high bounding, In the gay mimic war Fly to conquer or fall. Isabel. Where fame invites, the warrior flies With swelling heart his might to prove; He bravely fights, and nobly dies For glory and his lady-love! Full Chorus. Hark! The trumpet afar Rings its piercing call. In the gay mimic war Fly to conquer or fall. (at the conclusion of Isabel's strain, the King leads her away, ascending the stairs, followed by Astoroth and Bertram; the Knights and Guards fall into order, and march singing the concluding bars of the chorus; while the rest, crowding after them, close the Procession as the curtain descends. End of Act I.
ACT II.
SCENE I. The Rocks of Irene. A Wild and Desolate Spot. On L. are the ruins of an ancient temple—the descent to its vaults perceptible. Somewhat towards R. stands, on a raised pedestal, a lofty wooden cross, with circular steps of ascent. On the rising of the curtain, at the end of the Entr'acte Music, Bertram and Astoroth, the latter still as the Prince of Grenada, are discovered close to the temple ruins. Bertram.

Thus far, Ashtoroth, thou perfect semblance of Grenada's Prince, thou hast most well obeyed my behests. Thou hast conquered in the tournament.

Ast.

All who opposed me.

Bertram.

Thou hast won the prize.

Ast.

The Princess Isabel. She is to be my bride, and I receive her hand at midnight.

Bertram.

Another conquest for our gloomy realm!

Ast.

When wilt thou disclose thyself to thy mortal son?

Bertram.

When I have bound his soul so fast in the meshes of crime that we can never be parted in the next world. His career has long been a promising one; but this very night I will allure him to a sacrilegious deed of fatal temptation.

Ast.

And that is—

Bertram.

To pluck the Magic Branch from the holy tomb of St. Rosalie. That done, he is surely ours; for, possession of unchecked power will lead his heart to sin, and sin—leads unto us.

Ast.

I must now attend our sovereign within these ruin vaults. Thou knowest we are all summoned at this hour.

Enter Arnaud up one of the rocky passes at the back. Arnaud.

I fancy I'm the first at the appointment, for I don't see Al—Eh! company here? I'll ask them civilly if they've seen my Alice.

Bertram. to Astoroth.

I'll shortly follow thee.

Ast.

'Tis well.

He enters the ruins, and a flash of fire attends his steps.
Arnaud. who was advancing, runs back in extreme terror with a loud cry.

Ah! Mercy upon me! I'm singed!

Bertram. turning hastily round.

That fool here?

Arnaud. with his hands over his eyes.

Fire! Murder! Oh!

Bertram.

What now, idiot minstrel?

Arnaud. falling on his knees.

Don't roast me alive! spare me for my wife's sake.

Bertram.

Has a passing lightning-flash scared away thy wits?

Arnaud.

Lightning out of the earth?

Bertram.

So it seemed to thee. Chase away thy foolish terror. Thou art the Norman peasant I saw this morning?

Arnaud.

Ay, when Duke Robert purposed to hang me on the nearest tree; but he didn't though.

Bertram.

Just like him; he never carries through his good intentions.

Arnaud.

Good intentions!

Bertram.

What brings thee to this unfrequented spot?

Arnaud.

My future wife, who appointed me to meet her here; we are to be married to-day. Sweet Alice! To be sure, as far as fortune goes, she's worth nothing—and I'm worth just as much—but it can't be helped. If it weren't for that we should be the most enviable couple ever yet coupled.

Bertram.

Is it so? Well then, there—take that dross.

tossing him a purse.
Arnaud. with wonder and rapture.

Eh! dross? opening the purse. By the faith of a Norman, it's true, pure, sensible gold! rubbing his eyes. Am I asleep, or am I awake? No matter; I'm perfectly satisfied either way.

Bertram. aside, eying him with contempt.

And that's what creature man calls happiness! why then, I too, can make man happy at my will.

Arnaud. aside.

What a good soul! How wrong it is to take people by their outside.

Bertram. aside.

Weak humanity! Easily won, and scarce worth the winning. to Arnaud. And so, boy, thou art going to marry?

Arnaud.

Yes, please your super-excellent excellence.

Bertram.

What folly!

Arnaud.

What folly? Come, I don't think it's any folly at all. My Alice is a rare tit-bit for anybody; and she's not only fair, but she's right sensible—witness her choosing me for a husband in preference to all Normandy. That shews her no fool.

Bertram.

But it shews thee a fool to let thyself be chosen. Thou art an exceedingly proper, wellshaped and attractive youth; and were I in thy place, I would choose wheresoever I listed.

Arnaud.

You would choose?

Bertram.

I tell thee I would choose.

Arnaud.

But what would you choose?

Bertram. What pleased me most Arnaud.

Well, I've done so exactly.

Bertram.

Tush! I would fly at higher game than thy buzzard-eye has fastened on. Thou art now rich, and I would lay my signiory to a beggar's wallet that the fairest of Palermo's dames would wrangle for thy love.

Arnaud.

Now do you really think so?

Bertram.

I feel assured of it.

Arnaud.

Well, now, to be sure—such a great man as you ought to know better than a little man like me. aside. I like him more and more every minute.

Bertram.

Take my word for it, happiness consists in variety.

Arnaud.

And to be happy is just what I want.

Bertram.

Then be bold and ape thy betters. Be reckless, capricious, heartless, and fashionable! Follow my advice, and— pointedly. we may become better acquainted.

Arnaud. bowing very deferentially.

I desire the honour with all my heart. Then it seems, according to your agreeable advice, I may just indulge myself as I please?

Bertram.

Surely thou may'st. What men foolishly call sincontemptuously shrugging up his shoulders. is pleasure; and when we are no longer able to sin, then comes the proper time for repentance.

Arnaud.

I like your doctrine of all things! The devil fetch me if I don't! I'll go and preach it to all my companions, and, as a first step, chinking the purse. I'll treat 'em all to drink.

Bertram. laughing.

To drink! capital! 'Tis the best first step I could counsel thee! it leads to all else. Ha, ha, ha! excellent.

he retires up towards the ruins, and seems to listen down the vaults.
Arnaud.

I never met with a more delightful gentleman in all my life. And what a musical laugh he has! I sincerely hope we shall become better acquainted; for I like his sayings, and ringing the purse. I like his doings most particularly. approaching Bertram with great respect. With grateful thanks for your kind interest, I take my leave.

Bertram.

I do take an interest in thee, and thou shalt find so.

DUET.—Bertram and Arnaud. Bertram. Remember well what I have told thee! Arnaud. You may depend I'll not forget. Bertram. Sin is but pleasure. Arnaud. “Sin is but pleasure;” All you have told me In mind I'll treasure. Bertram. Never think; but drive care away; Gamble and drink; love and be gay; Dream but of joy; heed not to pray. Arnaud. You'd have me then— Bertram. Do as I say. Be with the world as gay as they; Run thee in debt; nor care to pay; If money run short, then run away. Arnaud. That's the best way? Bertram. That's the best way. Arnaud. pondering. Well now, I protest, It must be confest, There's nothing, I'm sure, Half so pleasant in life As to do just the thing you like best. Bertram. The doctrine is pure. Arnaud. Pleasure complete! Bertram. Nothing so sweet. Arnaud. To laugh and play, Secure from strife, Enjoying one's life Both night and day! Bertram. aside. Poor simple fool, He's easily caught; He'll honour the school At which he's been taught. Arnaud. as before. There's nothing, I'm sure Half so pleasant in life, &c. Arnaud & Bertram. To laugh and play, &c. Exit Arnaud, joyfully, R. Bertram.

Another soul gained! Ha, ha, ha! a mighty conquest truly! But I laugh at his coming misery, forgetful of my own approaching trial. Hell's mighty conclave, presided by its sovereign, is within these caverns met, and I must haste to join it. This moment will determine all, and turn uncertainty to sureness. Yes!

RECITATIVE.—Bertram. Now the hour is arriv'd! Robert's fate is decided! He must be mine and mine alone. Yes, the truth to his own ear must this day be confided, And, even now, like his, my own fate must be known. approaching the ruins. Ruler of the fallen host! Thy will's obey'd. I tremble! He is there, and I'm call'd! Yes, the loud bursts I hear Of their wild hellish rapture! Often thus they assemble Upon this earthy ball, shaking mortals with fear! INFERNAL WALTZ. chorus and dance of Invisible Demons within the vaults. Black Demons attending, In circle dance round; Beneath us earth bending, As joyful, we bound. AIR.—Bertram. Bertram. Oh, my son—now's the hour! For thee, long lov'd so well, I've defy'd holy pow'r, And would defy e'en hell! Demons. within. Prince of darkness, we adore thee! All of evil bends before thee. Exit Bertram into the ruins, L. U. E. and three flashes of fire ascend from the entrance. The previous darkness gradually clears away, and Alice is seen slowly and carefully coming down the slope of a hill at the back, during the soft symphony following Bertram's disappearance. RECITATIVE.—Alice. calling once or twice as she descends. Alice. Arnaud! Arnaud! In this wild lonely desert, Only echo replies, and my heart throbs with fear. There's no one near; Where can the man have tarried? To keep me waiting here! What a shame! 'Twere bad enough E'en if we were already married. AIR. When from dear Normandy I came, Thus did an aged hermit say:— “Thou shalt be married, pretty dame, “To one whose love will ne'er decay!” Ah me! I still wait the day. joining her hands in supplication. Thou o'er poor maids distrest presiding, Who still help'st all in thee confiding, My protection now deign to be, Thy kindly aid extend to me! looking round. Where stays he yet? Oft, with a sigh would he exclaim, “Absent from thee, I know no joy!” Yet, p'rhaps now, to some other flame, Faithless man! he says just the same; Whilst I still wait and sigh. Oh, patron-saint of virgins all! Protecting pow'r, my guardian prove! On thy name now hear me call; Deign thou to smile upon my love!

Dear, dear! where can the man be? To find myself by myself, in such a wild place is more than I bargained for; I've been all of a tremble for the last half hour! But near this symbol of peace, kneeling reverently on the step of the cross. my heart feels quieter; I feel very weary though—sitting on the circular stone. ay, and very vexed. A lover, and treat me so? What am I to expect when he becomes my husband? Heigho! I wonder when that happy moment is to arive.

the daylight becomes suddenly obscured, and the fiendish strain is heard as before. Alice starts up, and looks with extreme terror towards the ruins. RECITATIVE.—Alice. Preserve me, Heav'n! Those sounds my heart appal! No help, no protector is near; Let me fly! Demons. within the ruins. Robert, Robert, bring here! Alice. Some name they fiercely call. Demons. Robert, thy son, bring here! Alice. Ha! Robert's name loud they sound! Some fearful danger his steps may surround! The darkness that pervades the vault My approach perhaps may hide. she advances towards the cavern-mouth, when a flame of fire flashes up before her. She flies back, hiding her face in terror. Horrid spot! Red fire flashes from the ground! Yet I'll on. dropping on her knees. To Thee I pray! Be thou my guide! Thou who a feeble child—yea, e'en a timid maid Ere now hast call'd, 'tis said, To do thy high command, Stretch forth thy guardian hand! rising, she advances to the subterranean entrance, L. U. E. and, looking down the steps of the vaults, appears anxiously to listen. Suddenly she utters a loud shriek, and staggering faintly towards the cross, sinks upon the steps around it. Re-enter Bertram, L., with a haggard and agitated look. Bertram.

The decree is pronounced! fatal and irrevocable! Fearful sentence! Robert must be lost to me for ever, unless, of his own free will, he yield himself mine this very night, before midnight!

Alice. recovering herself with effort.

To-night! Before midnight! Horrible!

Bertram.

Ha! some one spoke. What daring mortal— 'Tis the peasant's bride! What has she heard? What does she know? shrinkingly. The sign of safety shields her— but her agitation tells me all.

Alice. rising feebly to her feet.

My strength fails me; I cannot fly.

Bertram. with winning softness.

What aileth thee, sweet Alice?

Alice. aside.

Horror! 'Tis the fiend!

Bertram.

Come hither, gentle maid! come nigh me.

Alice. recoiling.

I cannot.

Bertram.

Tell me—what hast thou heard?

Alice. trembling.

Heard? nothing—nothing.

Bertram.

Nay, then, what hast thou seen, child?

Alice.

Nothing.

Bertram. exulting, aside.

Her excessive fear will engender lies, and make her my prey.

Alice. aside.

His voice thrills me with horror! I faint!

Bertram. making a step towards her.

Approach, and let thy charms—

Alice. with sudden energy, flying up the steps to the wooden cross, and clinging to it.

Avaunt! Begone, foul fiend!

RECITATIVE DIALOGUE Bertram. with a fierce burst of rage. Ha! thou know'st me, 'tis clear! With bold and fearless eye, Into that which may destroy thee Thou hast ventured to pry. But, (e'en when none are nigh thee) Should'st name what thou'st seen here, Thou shalt die that same hour. Alice. (boldly.) Thy darkest evil do, O'er me thou hast no pow'r; (unconsciously advancing towards him, and with great force) I hate, and I defy thee! Bertram. suddenly getting between her and the cross. Thou shalt die—thou, thy lover too. Alice. struck with fear. Alas! Next, thy aged father! thy friends! thy all of kin! (with a triumphant and ferocious smile. Thou'st sought it all—the deed is thine; We are now, both, partners joined in sin, And from this time thou'rt wholly mine! (Alice, who, breathless and crouching to the earth, has remained shrinking beneath the Fiend's denunciation, now screams in horror, and hiding her face in her hands, flies from him to the L. C.—Bertram looks off, R. H., and continues. 'Tis Robert! Remember, not a breath; Be dumb, or else—thy doom is death. Enter Robert, R. H., sad and pensive, and without noticing Bertram or Alice. TRIO. Bertram. aside. By heavy grief he seems opprest; The snares I've laid he cannot fly; But I must hide from every eye The doubts and fears that fill my breast. Robert. aside. By heavy grief my soul's opprest; To find relief I fain would try; But I must hide from ev'ry eye The doubts and fears that fill my breast. Alice. aside. By heavy grief he seems opprest; To save him yet I fain would try; But I must hide from ev'ry eye The doubts and fears that fill my breast. Exit Alice, L. Robert.

Bertram, we are alone; give me counsel to quiet my despair! I am lost—dishonoured!—Baffled and overreached by a detested rival—my steps lured after a vain phantom—I have be wandering in a wilderness while the accursed Prince of Grenada, conqueror at the tournay, has won my Isabel, and this very midnight, in Palermo's Cathedral, receives her hand. My only hope is in thee! Thou has sworn never to forsake me.

Bertram.

And nought but hell's strongest power shall make me forsworn. Hark to me, Robert—thou hast fallen into a dark snare, and hast been the victim of foul magic arts.

Robert.

Ha!

Bertram.

By unholy means hath thy rival detroyed thy projects. He thereunto employed the resistless charms and potent spells of infernal spirits.

Robert.

What then, is to be done?

Bertram.

Foil him with his own evil weapons. Imitate, and crush him.

Robert.

But the means? Be there secrets of power to conjure up invisible spirits?

Bertram.

Ay! from the viewless air—from the fathomless sea—from the bowels of the earth—and from the regions of everlasting fire.

Robert.

Dost know those secrets? answer.

Bertram.

I do know them.

Robert.

Ha! how comest thou by the unhallowed knowledge? Speak! who art thou, Bertram? Silent!

Bertram.

Thou shalt know me in good time. Till then, look on me as thy best friend, and trust me. These mysteries, all-terrible as they are, yet are nothing to the man who has a daring and determined heart. Hast thou such a one?

Robert. indignantly.

Bertram!

Bertram.

Frown not—I believe in thy valour. Now, answer me! What wouldst thou peril to possess a talisman of such miraculous power that it bestows on its owner—wealth and immortality, and the instant gratification of his every wish.

Robert.

I would risk my life to obtain it. Be there such a charm?

Bertram.

Ay! a simple branch of cypress is the awful and all-powerful spell.

Robert.

Where is it to be sought—and when?

Bertram.

The most propitious moment is close at hand; for the day is fading rapidly, and the full moon will soon gain mastery of light.

Robert.

But where lies it?

Bertram.

On an ancient tomb.

Robert. impatiently.

But where? in what secret spot?

Bertram.

Mark me, and heed well my words!

RECITATIVE DIALOGUE. Bertram. mysteriously. Thou'st heard, no doubt, of the old abbey ruins, Abandon'd long ago to the dark pow'rs of gloom? Robert. I have. Bertram. In the centre aisle Of the pile All lonely stands the tomb Of Rosalie the blest. Robert. Alas, with pain thou wring'st my breast! As her's, the same Was my lov'd mother's name. Bertram. O'er that tomb waves the spell, Distinct in darkest night With green and paley light, The branch of magic might, Whose power awes the fiends of hell. Robert. anxiously. Proceed! Bertram. with solemn and emphatic earnestness. When midnight strikes, Just then, at that silent dark hour of dread, With hushed and cautious tread Must the mortal approach where are lying the dead. Robert. excitedly. What more? say on, say on! Bertram. impressively. Nor word, nor sound Must breathe around, Or the charm is gone! The phantom shapes seen nigh, As they glide, or flit by, Must, unquestion'd, pass on. With doleful wail Dark pow'rs guard the prize; Should the mortal's courage fail, That very instant he dies! Now, Robert, from off the tomb to bear That branch of magic might, Wilt thou dare, boldly dare Enter alone—alone at dead of night? Robert. Dare? DUET.—Robert and Bertram. Dost ask if I dare? proudly.The warriors of my native land, Still brave and bold, no fear appals. Guided on by valour's hand I go where danger calls. Bertram. The warriors of thy native land, By all 'tis known, no fear appals; Guided on by valour's hand Then go where danger calls. Robert. From off the sacred tomb the holy branch I'll tear, And it shall be for me a proud triumphant palm. Bertram. But horrors all unearthly thy boldness yet may calm? Robert. No! no horrors my steps shall scare; Tho' hell oppos'd I still would dare! Bertram. aside, darkly. Before thyself will I be there. Together. The warriors of my/thy native land, &c., &c. Exit Robert, R. and Bertram into the ruins.
SCENE II. The Outward Court of the Palace. Arnaud. outside, singing the burthen of his duet with Bertram. La-lal la-ra-la!-la-dal-diddle-dee! Enter Arnaud, jovially drunk, L. Arnaud.

I declare I feel—ha! ha! ha!—I feel, for all the world as if I was somebody else ever since I met with that merry, agreeable, ill-looking, handsome gentleman, who gave me this handsome purse. He was an excellent fellow; and my companions at the tavern—whom I've made very completely drunk—are all excellent fellows; and I—who was almost in danger of getting pretty completely drunk, too—I'm an excellent fellow myself. And then there's Alice, she's an excellent fellow, too; and—and—Well, now, I never thought of that! I wonder what's become of Alice? Though I'm so greatly superior to her, and worthy—as the worthy gentleman said— of being pulled to pieces by the finest ladies of Palermo, I'm not so hard-hearted, neither, as to wish to part with little Alice altogether. Why didn't she come to the appointment? stopping short, and seeming to cogitate. Well, now, it's very odd, but I can't get that stranger, and his words, and his lively ha, ha, ha! out of my head, do what I will. How taken he seemed with me!—and how sensibly he spoke! Every word he uttered is fixed here in my head.

Enter Alice at the back, L. D. Alice.

How can I save Duke Robert? There is but one hope; I must seek the princess, instantly. seeing Arnaud. Can it be?—is not that Arnaud? He seems deep in thought.

Arnaud.

“Thou art an exceeding proper, well-shaped, and attractive youth, and were I in thy place, I'd marry every one I liked.” That's the first thing he said that particularly struck me.

Alice. aside.

'Tis he, indeed.

Arnaud.

“Thou art a fool—”

Alice. aside.

He is muttering to himself.

Arnaud.

“To let thyself be chosen.” That, to be sure, wasn't very civil in a stranger, especially at a first introduction; but, however—

Alice. advancing to him.

Arnaud!

Arnaud.

Eh—what, Alice? Dear me, art thou there, Alice? Bless my heart, how d'ye do, Alice?

Alice.

Art not ashamed of thy conduct? Didst not promise to meet me an hour ago? Thou art a scandal to the name of lover.

Arnaud.

Hoity-toity! here's a loving beginning!

Alice.

Dost thou not blush I, say?

Arnaud.

Blush!—no one ever saw me blush yet. Blush, indeed!—why should I blush? assuming a consequential air. “I'm an exceeding proper, well-shaped, and attractive youth! and the best of Palermo's dames would pull caps for my love.”

Alice.

Goodness protect me! what nonsense is he uttering? Why, Arnaud, thou hast been drinking?

Arnaud.

Drinking? To be sure I've been drinking. “It's the first step I counsel thee—it leads to all else—ha, ha, ha!”

imitating the Demon's laugh.
Alice.

Wilt thou deny thou art a vile wretch?

Arnaud. not attending to her.

I'm to deny myself nothing I can obtain.

Alice. angrily.

Thou art a false, ungrateful brute.

Arnaud.

Just so; I'm to “ape my betters and be fashionable.”

Alice.

'Tis well; but thou shalt yet pay for this.

Arnaud.

“Care not to pay; and if money runs short, then —run away.”

Alice. bursting into tears.

Alas! every sorrow besets me at once.

Arnaud.

Why, Alice! aside. How I've improved already in my power over her! I never made her cry before. Come, never mind, Alice; I know you've got a lucky bargain in me, but I won't desert you. Come, give me a kiss.

Alice.

Away from me! crossing to R. Thou art suddenly and sadly changed. It were a sin to have more to do with thee.

Arnaud.

A sin? Pooh! snapping his fingers. I know better. imitating Bertram. “What man foolishly calls sinshrugging up his shoulders. is pleasure; and when we're no longer able to sin, then comes the proper time for repentance.”

Alice. shocked.

What horrible words are those? Arnaud, where hast thou imbibed such fearful doctrine?

Arnaud.

I've imbibed nothing but two bottles of wine; and, as to the rest, he said—“Thou art an exceeding attractive youth.”

Alice.

Of whom dost thou speak?

Arnaud.

Why, of myself, to be sure, those were his iden— titi—tickle words; “and then,” says he—

Alice. with impatience.

Who?—who said?

Arnaud.

Who? A most fascinating, though rather strange kind of a personage whom I met at the Rocks of St Irene.

Alice. hastily, and with alarm.

At the Rocks of St. Irene? Can it be? Speak!—what was his look?

Arnaud.

His look? Nay his look was at first anything but charming; but he improved amazingly on acquaintance; and when he gave me this purse, I thought him a most fascinating gentleman.

Alice. drawing back.

That purse! Oh, my fears!

Arnaud.

This full purse; that's to say, it was full then, but twelve bottles have jumped out of it since, so it's no wonder it looks rather thin. It rings sweetly yet, though.

Alice. with continued agitation.

Describe him to me, if thou hop'st for happiness!

Arnaud.

Bless me, Alice, what's the matter with you? You quite disturb my equanini—nimity.

Alice.

Delay not, I charge thee, but tell me instantly what I dread to find true. Speak—was not his look hideous, and his voice unearthly?

Arnaud.

Well, rather so, I confess; but he said—“Thou art an exceedingly attractive—”

Alice. with vexation, interrupting him.

He wore a scarlet mantle, and his matted locks uncovered?

Arnaud.

The same; did you meet him, too?

Alice. clasping her hands.

'Tis he—'tis he! Terrible being!

Arnaud. becoming alarmed.

Hey!—terrible! What's that you say?

Alice.

Thou took'st that dreadful purse from his hands?

Arnaud.

I did; why is it a dreadful purse?

Alice.

Miserable Arnaud!—thou art lost!

Arnaud. trembling.

Am I? Who has lost me?

Alice.

Well may'st thou look alarmed; for, hear that he who sought to seduce thee to thy ruin—

Arnaud.

My what!

Alice.

That fearful being was—

Arnaud. in an agony of fear.

Who?—what?

Alice.

I fear to name him.

Arnaud.

Oh, la!—what was he?

Alice.

A fiend!—a demon!

Arnaud.

Ah!

Alice.

That purse holds the wages of hell.

Arnaud. hastily dropping the purse in extreme terror.

Hah!

Alice.

Pray to thy good angel, and repent!

Arnaud. falling on his knees.

I do repent. Unfortunate wretch that I am!—why should the Devil take a fancy to me? Do you pray for me, too, Alice! Make haste, make haste, and pray for me as fast as ever you can!

Alice.

I see thy fear is real, for it hath sobered thee.

Arnaud.

The Devil has gone out of me, and taken his wine along with him. rising.

Alice.

His power, I trust, is over.

Arnaud.

Oh! how much lighter I feel since I've thrown away my purse!—just as if I had got rid of something that didn't agree with me.

Alice.

How fortunate this timely explanation!

Arnaud.

I thought he was a devilish queer-looking chap, as well as his companion, who kicked up fire with his heels. “Oh, it's only lightning,” says the fiend; infernal cheat!

Alice.

Be grateful for thy escape; and now let us hence, for I must seek the Princess.

Arnaud.

Ay, and I'll stick close to you. From this minute I'll speak to nobody else—I'll accept no more purses—I'll— stopping. Alice, don't you think it would be a pity for any one coming-by to run the danger of picking up that hellish purse? Were it not better, as I'm already used to it, to keep it till the priest says an “exorciso te” over it?

Alice.

I charge thee, as thou dost care for me, Arnaud, possess not thyself again of that unhallowed purse!

Arnaud.

I won't, I won't. Suppose I leave the purse, Alice, is there any harm in taking the money? It seems very honest and virtuous money, and I assure you it passed quite current at the vintner's.

Alice.

Thou must not think of it. Take it up and throw it into the moat as we cross the draw-bridge.

Arnaud.

So I will; and if the devil likes to jump after it, I hope he'll stick in the muddy bottom till I help him out. Come along, Alice.

Exeunt, R. the clouds of night darken the scene; the light totally disappears; and when the clouds disperse, they discover—
SCENE III The Abbey-Ruins, shewing the principal aisle of the Cloister. Through the openings of the arches is perceived a court filled with tombstones, some of them covered with moss and ivy; and beyond, are other galleries in lengthened perspective. On L. stands a row of monumental statues, raised on high pedestals. Upon the ground-tombs are discerned, the recumbent stone figures of the deceased Nuns; and in the centre, embedded in one of the middle arches, is prominently seen the tomb of St. Rosalie, the Foundress of the Abbey. Her statue cut in white marble, and covered with a religious habit, holds a branch of cypress. At the back is seen a large gate, with a staircase leading to the convent vaults. Lamps of rusted iron still hang from the vaulted roof, and everything betokens that the spot has long been deserted. The stars are seen in the sky, and the ruins receive no other light than what is thrown by the rays of the moon, which fall so brightly on the pavement as to show the moving shadow of any figure that passes. Enter Bertram by the gate, C.; he advances slowly, gazing on the objects around him. The birds of night, disturbed in their solitary haunt by the unusual noise, take wing. RECITATIVE.—Bertram. Hail, ye dark dreary ruins Condemn'd for evermore, The calm abode, of yore, Of holiness and peace! Ye daughters of despair, One hour on earth appear,— Then back, with demon wing, To the realms where ye dwell; There to feel, with sharper sting, The renew'd pangs of hell! EVOCATION. Nuns! who around repose in deep and silent gloom— Hear ye my call? Wake from the sleep of death, and quit the dismal tomb: Rise one and all! Daylight hath fled, and the moon's paley beam Now thro' the cloisters begins to gleam. Dwellers of hell, 'tis I your presence command,— 'Tis I, like you for ever bann'd.— I, like you, for crime of yore, Doom'd to woe evermore! Nuns! hear ye not my call? Nuns! rise ye one and all! (flitting wild fires, of a bluish hue, appear quivering along the galleries, play over the different tombs, and finally extinguish their light over the Nuns' figures as well as over the gravestones in the court, when the statues, forming the row, L., noiselessly slide down to the ground, and the monumental figures on the flat tombstones slowly arise till they stand erect, and then descend without any effort of volition. A group of Nuns in white shrouds appear upon the gateway staircase, and seem to glide along. Another group advance in procession, with the same gliding motion, from the court; and finally they appear gathering and approaching on every side. No movement of the body yet betrays their revival. They all silently gather around Bertram. Presently, their eyes open, and they begin to move by degrees; and the restoration of life seems complete, but still attended by the pallidness of death. The iron lamps light of themselves, and darkness ceases. Bertram.

Daughters once of heaven, now of hell—workers of evil, my voice hath for one hour recalled you to your former selves, to do my bidding. Listen to my command! The steps of a valiant knight, whom I protect and love, now approach these ruins; he comes to pluck yonder green branch; but, if his hand should falter, be it your task to win him to the deed! Tempt him, force him to accomplish his promised daring, nor let him suspect the fate that awaits his rashness. Ye have heard; tremble to disobey!

Exit, C. the Nuns give token of implicit obedience. Soon the instinct of their former passions glows in their reanimated forms. They recognize each other and express their joy; Helena, their superior, incites them by her example; they throw off their shrouds, and join in frenzied dance. Some of them draw forth from the tombs the former objects of their profane predilection, amphorœ, cups, diceboxes, &c. Others present offerings to a hideous idol. In the midst of their impious orgies, they hear the approaching steps of Robert; they suddenly suspend their pursuits, and hide themselves behind the pillars and tombs. The lamps go out, and the scene resumes its previous appearance.
Enter Robert through the Abbey-gate, C., with awe and hesitation. RECITATIVE.—Robert. I've reach'd at last The spot where the Dead, silent, sleep. Let me on; Thro' my veins, fast, Chilling horrors creep! These cloisters—dismal tombs, That tell of crime and woe, My courage nigh o'erthrow! 'Neath the moon's silvery ray, Shines the branch—(with its green paley light, Its leaves o'er the tomb brightly bending—) Which, gain'd, shall my daring repay With wealth unending, And ever-new delight. Why feel I fear so base? he advances to the statue of St. Rosalie, and instantly starts back, struck with sudden terror. Ah me! Yon marble statue, Like my dead mother's face, Frowns with reproachful eye; My heart recoils! With fear and shame I fly! as he seeks to retreat, the scene lights up again, and he finds himself surrounded by all the phantom Nuns. They eagerly allure him by divers temptations—they present him with wine, drinking it themselves with avidity; lead him to the implements of play, scattered o'er a tombstone, displaying to him gold and caskets of jewels. After a momentary yielding, he breaks away in disgust. But he at last succumbs to the fascinating wiles of Helena, who leads him captive towards the magic cypress branch. While she indicates it to him with her finger, he snatches a kiss from her lips, and in the intoxication of his passion, seizes on the talisman. All at once, the discordant laughter of Invisible Fiends, rings loudly through the vaults, accompanied by the rattling of chains, and unearthly noises. The Spirit-Nuns form a frantic Bacchanalian chain round Robert, who forces his way through them with the power of the magic branch. Demons with blazing torches now join in the dance, while others traverse the air. By degrees, the temporary life that animated the revived Nuns expires; and, becoming more and more languid, they fall lifeless near their respective tombs; when a Demon, appearing from the inside of each sepulchure, seizes anew upon his victim, while the following chorus is yelled around— The prey is ours! Infernal pow'rs, Spirits of ill, We triumph still! End of Act II
—The Apartment of the Princess Isabel, with three wide folding doors, opening on a vista of extensive galleries and corridors. At the rising of the curtain, the Princess is discovered seated near a table, L., surrounded by her tyring Maids, who are assisting her to prepare for the marriage ceremony; giving her her veil, virginal crown of orange-flowers, &c. Towards the R., numerous Nobles, Knights and Ladies, with Attendants, are standing. The Major-Domo of the palace is at the principal entrance with his wand of office as Chamberlain. Alice is near the Princess, in her best dress, and Arnaud among the Attendants. CHORUS. Let strains of joy, from all around ascending, Loudly proclaim the happy pair! Hymen and love, with ev'ry bliss attending, Haste and unite the brave and the fair! Isabel. (rising.)

Lords and noble dames, for your kind wishes, accept my feeble thanks.

(aside—coming forward.)

Alas! how different were my hopes even this very day! But a few hours ago they sweetly bloomed like summer flowers, nor looked for such early blighting! Alice, come hither. Thou art an humble friend, but I do esteem thee for a true one; and all thou hast told me of thyself has won me thy protectress for life. (looking cautiously round, and seeing all present in conversation with each other, and unobservant, she seizes Alice's arm.) Tell me, hast thou seen nought since of Duke Robert?

Alice.

Alas, no, noble lady; but I directed Arnaud, whom I mentioned to your highness, to obtain some intelligence.

Isabel.

Is he here?

Alice.

He is yonder among your highness's attendants.

Isabel.

Call him to me.

Alice.

Arnaud!

Arnaud.

Eh?

Alice. (signing to him to approach.)

Come hither.

Arnaud. (timidly advancing to Alice, and looking round with wonder.)

Well now, who would have thought it!

Alice. (in a low voice to him.)

The princess commands thy presence.

Arnaud. (with flurried embarrassment.)

The princess? Dear me! (aside.) Here are honours all in one day! Not long ago, I was in company with the devil, now I'm with a princess!

Alice. (making way for Arnaud to pass her.)

The princess, I tell thee, would have speech of thee.

Arnaud. (approaching, with awkwardness.)

She is—very welcome.

Isabel.

Tell me quickly, good friend, hast thou followed Alice's direction?

Arnaud.

Please your ladyship—

Alice. (in a whisper.)

Highness.

Arnaud. (confused.)

Please, your ladyship's highness, I've not been able to set eyes on him ever since he did me the high honour this morning of ordering me to be hanged; but I should prefer a more gradual rising under your royal protection.

(he bows very low to Isabel, who turns away much disappointed.)
Alice. (aside to him, with vexation.)

Shame on thee—hast thou the meanness to beg?

Arnaud.

Do you think I'm come to court for nothing? I'll do like the rest; get all I can, and ask for more.

Isabel. (with despondency to Arnaud.)

Thou art at liberty to go.

(retires to her seat.)
Arnaud. (to Alice.)

Where am I to go?

Alice.

Dolt! Thou art dismissed.

Arnaud.

I'm dismissed! What for? What have I done to be dismissed?

Alice.

Thou must retire when bidden.

Arnaud.

Well, I suppose you understand the matter best, but it wasn't worth while to introduce the princess to me for such a little; but never mind—I think I've given her a favourable impression of me, and she may do something for us yet.

(he retires to his place.)
Isabel.

Alas, Robert! thou art lost to me for ever.

A Voice. (without.)

The king!

Major-D. (repeating it.)

The king!

(the Princess rises, and all resume their stations.)
Enter the King, R. holding the hand of Astoroth, as the Prince of Grenada. King.

Now, daughter, how speed you? The night wears fast. Thy bridegroom here hath won thee bravely; and beyond the appointed hour of midnight, the union must not be delayed.

Ast. (aside.)

Happily my task will soon be over. (approaching the Princess.) Beauteous Isabel, deign to accept from a lover's hand these proffered tokens of his tenderness; they are such as he has deemed most precious, and most worthy of your acceptance. (his four Pages advance with golden caskets containing presents. They kneel, and lay them at her feet.)

King.

Prince of Grenada, one half hour before midnight, follow us to the cathedral. Seek admittance with your train at the southern doors, so shall we avoid all hindrance and delay.

Ast.

I will prepare to execute your bidding. (aside.) Rejoice, powers of darkness, another victim is ours! (bowing low to Isabel.) Within an hour's time, princess, I will appear, and claim you mine for ever.

Exit with his Attendants, R. King.

Let those presents be borne to the inner chamber of the Princess. (the caskets are taken away by the Attendant Maidens, L.) Follow, fair dames, and let your care take order of their disposal. Exeunt Ladies, L. Noble knights, we will retire till the appointed time of—Hark! I hear a footstep in the private gallery! See who thus intrudes without our permission (the Knights hasten outside into the central gallery, which is distinctly displayed—when Robert is seen approaching from the furthest end, holding aloft in his hand the magic branch. The Knights, who have approached to stop his advance, are struck motionless by the spell, and remain rigid in the attitude of the moment.) Daughter, be thou ready by our return. Ha! what do I behold? The vile Duke of Normandy within my palace! Villain!

(drawing his sword, he rushes to strike Robert before he enters, when, coming within the influence of the charm, he is rooted to the spot, like the rest.)
Isabel.

What heavy langour weighs upon my eyelids!

(she sinks upon a couch. Robert enters the apartment, and the folding doors close of themselves, shutting out the King and all who left the chamber.)
RECITATIVE. Robert. Charmed branch—thou work'st well! Fast their senses are bound; Ev'ry eye, by thy spell, Seal'd up in sleep profound. (he lays the branch on the table.) Thy voice now, Isabel, To thy aid none may call! From this place, where now lies The treasure most I prize, I'll bear thee, 'spite of all. Vain will be thy pleading sighs, Vain all thy tears, Thou shalt not bless a rival's arms. (approaching, and gazing upon her.) How fair she thus appears! Let me gaze on those charms! AIR. Ah, Isabel! Lov'd Isabel! Whilst in magic repose I see thine eyelids close, My heart, by thy beauty's spell, With fonder rapture glows— Isabel! Lov'd Isabel! Isabel—lov'd Isabel! If, by fate's harsh decree, Mine own thou may'st not be, To hope and life farewell! What's life depriv'd of thee, Isabel? Lov'd Isabel! But time swift flies—she must wake. (taking up the branch, and extending it towards her.) Isabel! Isabel! For thee alone I change the spell— The bonds of slumber break! (he again lays down the branch on table.) Isabel. (gradually regaining perception.) Where am I? what voice calls out arise? 'Twas a horrible sleep fell at once on mine eyes. (seeing Robert and starting up with sudden terror.) Amazement! Robert within these walls? His presence at this hour my heart appals! Robert. (exultingly, aside.) She is mine; from all aid apart; And I now my rival defy. Fiendish rapture my breast swells high, To see the emotion of her heart. Isabel. (aside.) From his looks my heart shrinks with fear. (turning with assumed firmness to Robert.) By what foul sorcery, what magic art, Say, Duke of Normandy! hast thou gain'd admittance here? Robert. I'm here a rival to defeat whom I abhor. Isabel. (with indignant scorn.) Nobler had been thy vengeance, by far, Hadst thou this day that rival fac'd, Nor basely shrunk from manly war. Go, go! In knighthood's page thou'rt now disgrac'd! Robert. (with violent agitation.) Chafe me no more! Silence were best. Isabel. (aside.) Wild alarm shakes my breast! Robert. Cease to reproach me, else my madness dread; Tremble to goad me on to wild despair! All here around now resemble the dead; For earthly pow'r no more need I care. Isabel. O'er me, oh Heav'n, thy kind protection spread, Oh shield me from his madness this fell hour! All here around must now bend to his pow'r; 'Twere vain to call! (imploringly.) For mercy, fly. Robert. No! Isabel. Go hence away! Robert. No! Isabel. (despairingly.) For aid in vain I pray! Robert. (seizing her in his grasp.) Thou must be mine own for ever! Isabel. (with excessive terror.) Oh fear! Robert. Isabel, fly hence with me! Isabel. Come not near! Robert. No power of man my will can now restrain. Isabel. Protect me, Heaven! Robert. I dare no more delay. Isabel. For mercy's sake! Robert. Come!—thy cries are vain. Isabel. Begone!—let me go!—false knight, away! (with a desperate effort she breaks from his grasp—while he, in anguish and agitation, buries his face in his hands.) AIR.—Isabel. (approaching Robert, timidly and beseechingly.) Thou once didst adore me, I love bestow'd on thee; My wild terror see! Mercy, I implore thee— Shew mercy to me! Mercy for thee, Mercy for me! Doth thy heart with such scorn treat All that sacred should be? Thou oft hast knelt at my feet, See! now I kneel to thee! Mercy! I implore thee— Shew mercy to me! Mercy for thee— Mercy, for me! Still—thy heart no pity swaying— Wilt thou hear me vainly praying? My fears dost thou see? Mercy! I implore thee Shew mercy to me! Mercy, for me! Mercy, for thee! Robert. (who has been violently struggling with his feelings.)

Her touching accents melt and disarm me! (turning tenderly towards her.) Oh, Isabel! in a few moments more thou wilt be torn from me for ever; and to lose thee is to lose my life.

Isabel.

Fly, while yet 'tis time!

Robert.

Not without thee! My heart is firm again. In vain dost thou shrink from me—mine thou shalt be. Hopest thou for aid?—behold! (he flings open the doors, and discovers the motionless group as before.) All that stirred with life within thy father's palace is now even as these are. My power hath compassed it!—think'st thou to defy it? Follow me with willing step, or I will bear thee off by force.

Isabel. (in the extremity of terror.)

Come not near me!

Robert.

Thou art my prey—and thus, thus I seize thee.

Isabel.

Approach not! stir not! (sinking on her knee near the table, she has unconsciously grasped and extended towards him the cypress branch, and he is, like the rest, rivetted to the spot by its power.) Ha! fearful sight!—my heart is chilled with horror! (rising.) What potent and unholy spell is this which my unconscious hand hath grasped? His frame is motionless!—his eyes are fixed!—a marble statue stands before me! Talisman accursed, whatever be thy evil power, let it cease, as thus I break thee!

(she snaps the branch in twain, when Robert and all the rest begin again to move, and by degrees regain their senses.)
The Ladies, with Alice, at the same time re-enter from Isabel's chamber, and join the rest. CHORUS with Principals. All. (with bewilderment.) What pow'r unholy So long hath bound us? What spell hath cast Its magic chain? Doth still around us Some evil reign? (seeing Robert.) Amazement! What new surprise Assails our eyes? The Duke of Normandy! Can it be? 'Tis he! King & Knights. Thou art come as a foe, To deceive basely trying; Thy attempt, craven Knight, With thy life thou shalt pay! Robert. If I've dar'd hither come Ev'ry danger defying, 'Twas to bear Isabel From my rival away. Isabel. (to her father.) Your wrath, oh stay! Alice. (aside.) His life must pay! Isabel. (casting herself on her knees between the Knights and Robert.) Mercy shew! Be not bent on destroying! Father!—Knights!— Let me not vainly pray! King and Knights. Do not hope to escape, Tho' thy falsehood denying! Thou hast dar'd, to thy shame, Honour's law to betray. Isabel and Alice. (aside.) Vain's the chance From his foes of his flying! For his love With his life he must pay! Robert. (drawing his sword.) On my sword and this arm To defend me relying, I defy your revenge! No fear can my bosom sway. All. On his sword and his arm To defend him relying, He defies our revenge; No fear can his bosom sway! Knights. (unsheathing their swords.) Thus for defying us Dearly thou'lt pay! Death to the traitor! Thy sentence obey! (they rush upon Robert, when suddenly Bertram enters C., and beats down their swords. The Knights recede from him. Bertram. Stay!—false Knights, stand back!—away! The first who comes nigh, that instant I slay. King & Knights. Ha! rescue at hand! But escape still is vain; From death he shall not fly. Isabel & Alice. (aside.) Ha! rescue at hand? Oh, blest day! Then hope once more is nigh. Bertram. (seizing Robert's hand.) Haste thee, Robert, with me; None shall make thee their prey. Robert. Ha! thou here, brave ally? (to the Knights.) Then your rage I defy— Ye are baulk'd of your prey. King & Knights. Their escape still is vain; Even now both shall die! Isabel & Alice. (aside.) The protection of Heaven attend on his way! Oh, grant from his enemies yet he may fly! (Robert has been drawn away by Bertram, and a party of the Knights follow in pursuit.) King.

Bid hither the attendants of the princess, and inform the court of our setting forth. Two Pages exeunt R. The hour is fully come; Grenada's Prince will reach the church before us. Lead on, signiors—daughter, your hand.

Exeunt King and Isabel, R., followed by the rest. Alice is going among the last. Arnaud appears from behind a pillar, and stops Alice by twitching her gown. Arnaud.

Alice, here has been a pretty business! If this be court-living, I refuse to accept office. Our little cottage in dear Normandy, pretty Alice for my wife, with a score of children, will be much more agreeable.

Alice.

What has happened, Arnaud?

Arnaud.

What, don't you know?

Alice.

All I know is, that in yonder room a sudden and mysterious lethargy fell upon me, and when I recovered, I found that my companions had been, like myself, deprived of all sense.

Arnaud.

Well, and so was I. Left without any common sense at all—and all by some magical, mystical, diabolical operation; I can tell you all from the beginning. I was gaping about, when who should I see coming along the gallery yonder, but Duke Robert, carrying a little tree in his hand—which I supposed he might be bringing to the Princess as a wedding present—when all of a sudden “Seize him!” cries the King; “seize him!” cries I; and I had no sooner cried it than—slap! I was seized myself all of a heap!

Alice.

Wonderful!

Arnaud.

Wasn't it? Well, I felt, first particularly strange, then I felt—I felt that I hadn't a bit of feeling!—and when I woke, after a sort of a queer kind of a nap, I found I had been sleeping upon my legs, with my neighbour's fingers stuck in my mouth, and a large spur half-an-inch up my calf!

Alice. (anxiously.)

And what of Duke Robert?

Arnaud.

Stop a bit. When the king, having ended his little nap, like myself, saw our devil of a duke—

Alice.

Fie, Arnaud!

Arnaud.

Well, our duke, Robert the Devil, he ordered him to be killed!

Alice.

Oh, Heaven!

Arnaud.

I got a little out of the way, behind a pillar, that I mightn't be killed by mistake, when, bounce! something flew by me, and in a moment, bounce! it flew back again with Duke Robert; and, oh, Alice, only guess who that something was.

Alice. (eagerly.)

Speak!

Arnaud.

That something that whisked away Duke Robert as if he had been a little spaniel dog, was no other than my infernal friend of the Rocks of St. Irene; and as he passed me, he smelt—augh! as if he had just come out of Etna!

Alice.

Which way did they go?

Arnaud.

I didn't exactly look. I thought it best to shut my eyes, for fear I should see something I shouldn't like—some horn or tail; but when I ventured to open them again, the first thing I saw was the tail of your gown. But I say, isn't the princess going to be married to-night?

Alice.

Yes, at midnight.

Arnaud.

And are you to follow her?

Alice.

Certainly.

Arnaud.

Well then, Alice, if you follow the princess, and I follow you, why shouldn't it follow that we be married at the same time?

Alice.

How silly thou art, Arnaud.

Arnaud.

What, to be married?

Alice.

Not to know that humble folks like us must wait our time.

Arnaud.

But I've waited a devilish long time already. Let the princess be served first with all my heart; but your turn, if I can manage it, shall be next; and though your dish may be the more homely of the two, I warrant me it shall be quite as substantial. So, come along, and take no more care about Duke Robert, for it's very plain he likes to go to the devil his own way. Come along.

Exeunt Arnaud and Alice, R.
Scene II—The Exterior of the Cathedral of Palermo. The Church is seen illuminated, and the organ is heard while tthe King and Isabel are seen entering the Church doors, accompanied by the Court, Knights, Ladies, Alice, Arnaud, and the Attendants, in orderly procession. As the organ ceases, and the music changes, Robert enters R. H.; he looks around him, and perceiving that none are near, he returns, and, seizing Bertram's arm, makes him enter the sacred precincts. Robert.

We are alone and safe.

Bertram. (who has entered with manifest reluctance.)

Confusion! what shall I do? within the boundaries of this sainted spot my evil power fails, and nought but wily art can obtain me my prize. Robert, wherefore hast thou forced me to enter here?

Robert.

This spot is sacred; it is a place of refuge where none dare pursue. Yet, 'tis not safety that I care for. Alas! all I trusted in has this day betrayed me.

Bertram. (insinuatingly.)

Except thy friend that loves thee, and wishes but thy happiness. Know'st thou not the reason of thy ill-success? the breaking of the magic branch has delivered Isabel to thy rival's power.

Robert.

Can nothing snatch her from his arms? tell me!

Bertram.

There is still one way left to glut thy vengeance.

Robert. (furiously.)

I'll have it; be it what it may, I'll have it.

Bertram.

Hear me. The spirits of darkness—with whom thou hast already somewhat dealt—will be at thy command if thou wilt sign a compact pledging thyself theirs.

Robert.

Give me revenge at any price!

Bertram. (with eagerness.)

Wilt thou consent to sign?

Robert.

I will.

Bertram.

Come, then, out of this sacred ground, and full power and revenge are thine. Thou shalt exult over thy baffled rival, and hold thine Isabel within thine arms. Haste! away, away!

(as they are departing, the organ is heard within the cathedral. Suddenly struck by it, Robert stops, rivetted in attention.) CONCERTED PIECE. Bertram. (endeavouring to draw Robert away.) How now? why dost thou still delay? Robert. (listening as if spellbound.) Those sounds—dost thou not hear? Bertram. (aside, gloomily.) I hear them with dismay. Robert. (with tender emotion.) Sweetly oft on my ear They struck in childhood's day, When for her son so dear My mother used to pray. (melting into tears at the recollection.) Lov'd parent! alas! Voices. (in the cathedral.) Glory be to the Highest! Joy and peace to the blest! Sinner, from guilt who fliest, From evil here is rest. Robert. The voice of Heav'n methinks is nigh, And calls me back to virtue's way! Bertram. (aside.) From this spot with me he must fly. (to Robert.) Wherefore here any longer stay? Robert. (wrapt in the sounds.) Dost thou hear? Bertram. (entreatingly.) Hence with me! away! Robert. If I could only pray! Bertram. (aside.) I every power must try His melting heart to sway. Robert. Heavenly harmony—how divine Are thy soft and tuneful sounds! Erring hearts, tho' wild as mine, They recal to reason's bounds. Bertram. (aside.) Whilst he tarries near this holy shrine He my purpose confounds! (to Robert.) No longer stay! Voices. (in the cathedral.) Joy and peace to the blest! Robert. Hope and peace fill my breast! Bertram. (aside.) Torture wrings my breast! (the organ and Voices cease, and Bertram approaches Robert.) Bertram. (malignantly.)

I wonder not at thy soul's emotion. The sounds thou hearest now bless the union of thy rival with Isabel.

Robert. (with re-lighted rage.)

Ha! that single word tears my heart, and revives my fury.

(stamping at Bertram.)

Begone—leave me! thou art my bitterest foe.

Bertram. (clasping his hands together.)

I! I, Robert, thy foe? I—who, out of the whole human race, love but thee? I, who would wish for all the treasures of the earth but to bestow them on thee alone?

Robert. (struck by his manner.)

Mysterious being! Who, then, art thou?

Bertram.

Doth not the emotion that now shakes my heart and thine own, yet betray me to thee? Robert, rememberest thou not this morning? Didst thou not hear and mark the Norman minstrel's fearful recital—the fatal story of thy mother's woes? They were but too true.

Robert.

Oh, my trembling soul!

Bertram.

Yes, a fallen Spirit was her lover and her husband. I—I was that lover, I was that husband.

Robert.

Horror!

Bertram.

And now, Robert, my son, thou knowest me.

Robert.

Thou—thou my father? Horror and hopeless misery!

Bertram.

I have deceived thee, but 'twas to gain thee ever mine. Now mark me well! If before the midnight hour thou dost not sign a bond which shall for evermore conjoin us, I must lose thee for ever; and the midnight hour is already nigh!

Robert. (wildly.)

Midnight! midnight! Isabel!

(the chimes of the cathedral strike the three quarters.)
Bertram.

Hark! there is but a quarter of an hour of hope left us. (with pressing anguish, and speaking rapidly.) Robert, my son! Oh! let not thy wretched father be for ever parted from thee! Sign! sign, and Isabel shall be thine—and honours and riches, and the joys of an eternal youth shall charm thy life!

Robert.

It is decreed, and Hell bears the victory! Father, I'll not forsake thee; I am thine.

Bertram. (clasping Robert's hand with triumph.)

Oh joy!

Enter Alice from the cathedral. Alice. (percieving Robert.)

'Tis he; fortunate meeting.

Bertram.

Thou art resolved?

Robert.

Yes; be what thou wilt, I henceforth share thy fate.

Alice.

Ha! what do I hear?

(approaching and recognizing Bertram.)

Save me, Heaven! it is the Fiend.

Bertram. (angrily to Alice.)

What brings thee here?

Alice. (falling on her knees before Robert.)

Oh, Duke Robert, I have blessed, joyful tidings, which you will gladly hear. The false Prince of Grenada and his phantom train, approaching the southern gate, in vain attempted to cross the holy threshold, and, howling fearfully, vanished from sight!

Bertram. (aside.)

I tremble.

Alice.

The horror-struck father, shuddering at his daughter's escape, consents to bless her, and messengers are seeking you to receive her hand. Follow me to the altar.

Bertram. (in agony.)

My son, go not; but follow me! Thou hast sworn to be mine.

Alice. (aside.)

What do I hear? Horror!

Bertram.

Let us quickly away! Time flies, and midnight is about to strike.

TRIO FINALE. Robert. (with a burst of anguish.) My brain is distracted! (to Bertram.) Speak thy will, and I'll obey. Alice. (aside.) Oh, heav'ns, he's abus'd by the Demon's spell! (to Robert.) Forget'st thou, then, thy vow? Robert. Away! A superior claim must all o'ersway. Alice. (indignantly.) What can honour's claim excel? Let no more thy heart rebel! (with fervent aspiration.) Guardian angels—deign, oh deign His protection to be! Let his heart peace regain, And from ill set him free! Bertram. Oh despair! Hour of pain! Ah, my son, my anguish see! With thy father remain! Let thy heart plead for me! Robert. (distractedly.) Bitter pangs—racking pain, From my bosom now flee! If all hope must be vain, Let my death set me free! Bertram. (drawing from his breast a black parchment, with hieroglyphic characters of blood traced on it.) See—see this parchment I now unfold, The words there written thy hand must sign. Alice. (to Robert.) By your hopes of mercy, hold! Robert. (eyeing the scroll with horror, and shrinking from it.) Wherefore there must my name be enrol'd? Alice. Fear perdition! 'Twill be thine! Robert. (desperately, to Bertram.) To thy wish I incline. Bertram. Let us haste! Alice. Stay, oh stay! Remember Isabel and thy vows! Robert. Away! Begone! Begone! Bertram. No more delay! Alice. (aside.) Inspire me now, kind Heav'n, I pray! Robert. (extending his hand towards Bertram.) Give me the scroll! (Alice, at this moment, draws from her bosom the will of Robert's mother—a parchment with a large seal appended to it by a ribbon—and rushing between Bertram and Robert, places it in the latter's hand.) Alice. 'Tis here! Cruel son—read this sacred command! Robert. Oh, Heav'n! 'Tis my lov'd mother's hand! (burying his face in the paper with anguish.) Oh, grief! Bertram. (aside.) Oh rage and fear! Robert. (reading with a trembling voice.) “My son, thy mother's anxious eye “O'er thee will watch from yonder sky! “Fly from the snares, shun the dark spell, “Of him by whom thy mother fell.” (he lets fall the paper, which Alice hastily snatches up.) Bertram. Does then thy heart waver between us two? Robert. (shrinking from him with involuntary horror.) I tremble! Horrid hour! Which way decide? What do? Alice. (without looking at Robert or Bertram, but reading aloud, impressively.) “My son, thy mother's anxious eye “O'er thee will watch from yonder sky! “Fly from the snares, shun the dark spell, “Of him— (pointing to Bertram, without lifting her eyes from the paper.) by whom thy mother fell.” Bertram. (imploringly.) My son! Ah, turn thine eyes on me! My pangs behold, my anguish see! Fly not from him to whom thou'rt so dear! Sign—and thou may'st defy all fear. Robert. (frantically.) Ah! pity my despair! Bertram. (seizing his hand on one side.) Oh, my son, let's away! Alice. (seizing his hand on the other side.) Heaven's call now obey! Robert. Fierce pangs that tear my heart and brain, To 'scape your fury all hope is vain! Alice, Bertram, Robert. (together.) Guardian angels, &c. With thy father remain! &c. If all hope now be vain, &c. Alice. (to Robert.) Heaven's call now obey! Hence, foul fiend! hence away! Bertram. (kneeling to Robert) Oh, my son! no more delay, With thy father haste away! Robert. Gracious heav'n, be my stay! Mercy shew, and guide my way! (the clock of the cathedral strikes MIDNIGHT.) Alice. Ha! 'tis midnight! He's sav'd for e'er! Bertram. (with a terrific cry.) Ha! farewell for e'er! Robert. Save me from despair! (the earth opens beneath Bertram's feet, and he sinks enveloped in flames. Robert falls on the ground overcome with terror, while Alice has sunk on her knee in gratitude.) Dark clouds, accompanied by lightnings and thunder, for a while envelope all around; but, soon dispersing, the scene changes, and displays the whole interior of the cathedral brilliantly illuminated, with the entire Court, Knights, Ladies, &c., kneeling. The High Priest advances towards Robert— who has been partly raised from the ground by Alice still clinging to him—and taking his hand, joins it at the altar, with that of the Princess Isabel. The soft and increasing pea of the organ swells through the edifice, and the voices of all within the cathedral join in the— Glory be to the Highest! Joy and Peace to the Blest! CURTAIN.
Printed by T. Blower, 313, Strand.