SAROLTA. I oft have passed your cottage, and still praised Come, you shall show it me! And, while you bid it [Bathory bowing, shows her into his cottage. LASKA. (alone.) Vexation! baffled! school'd! Ho! Laska! wake! why? what can all this mean? Oh the false witch! It is too plain, she loves him. She'll see this Bethlen hourly ! [Laska flings himself into the seat. Glycine peeps in timidly. Has the seat stung you, Laska? LASKA, No, serpent! no; 'tis you that sting me; you! What? you would cling to him again! GLYCINE. Whom! LASKA. Bethlen! Bethlen! Yes; gaze as if your very eyes embraced him! Ha! you forget the scene of yesterday! Mute ere he came, but then-Out on your screams, And your pretended fears ! GLYCINE. Your fears, at least, Were real, Laska! or your trembling limbs And white cheeks played the hypocrites most vilely! LASKA. I fear! whom? What? GLYCINE. I know, what I should fear, Were I in Laska's place. LASKA. What? GLYCINE. My own conscience, For having fed my jealousy and envy With a plot, made out of other men's revenges, Yet, yet, pray tell me ! Against a brave and innocent young man's life ! LASKA. (malignantly.) You will know too soon. GLYCINE. Would I could find my lady! though she chid me Calm as a tiger, valiant as a dove. Nay now, I have marred the verse: well! this one question LASKA. Are you not bound to me by your own promise? And is it not as plain GLYCINE. Halt! that's two questions. LASKA. Pshaw! Is it not as plain as impudence, That you're in love with this young swaggering beggar, Bethlen Bathory? When he was accused, Why pressed you forward? Why did you defend him? GLYCINE. Question meet question: that's a woman's privilege. Why, Laska, did you urge Lord Casimir LASKA, So then, you say, Lady Sarolta forced you? Could I look up to her dear countenance, I'd keep them all for my dear, kind, good mistress. Not one for Bethlen? GLYCINE. Oh! that's a different thing. To be sure he's brave, and handsome, and so pious * For the best account of the War-wolf or Lycanthropus, see Drayton's Moon-calf, Chalmers' English Poets, Vol. IV. p. 13e. LASKA. You dare own all this? Your lady will not warrant promise-breach. Grieve for him with a vengeance. Odd's, my fingers Tingle already! [makes threatening signs. GLYCINE. (aside.) Ha! Bethlen coming this way! [Glycine then cries out as if afraid of being beaten. Oh, save me! save me! Pray don't kill me, Laska! Enter BETHLEN in an Hunting Dress. BETHLEN. What, beat a woman! LASKA. (to Glycine.) O you cockatrice! BETHLEN. Unmanly dastard, hold ! LASKA. (pompously.) Do you chance to know Who-I-am, Sir?-('Sdeath! how black he looks!) BETHLEN. I have started many strange beasts in my time, But none less like a man, than this before me LASKA. Bold youth! she's mine. VOL. II. |