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curse hereafter?

      [Loud murmurs, followed by cries — EMERICK! No Baby

       Prince! No Changelings!

      Yet bear with me awhile! Have I for this 150

       Bled for your safety, conquered for your honour?

       Was it for this, Illyrians! that I forded

       Your thaw-swoln torrents, when the shouldering ice

       Fought with the foe, and stained its jagged points

       With gore from wounds I felt not? Did the blast 155

       Beat on this body, frost-and-famine-numbed,

       Till my hard flesh distinguished not itself

       From the insensate mail, its fellow warrior?

       And have I brought home with me Victory,

       And with her, hand in hand, firm-footed Peace, 160

       Her countenance twice lighted up with glory,

       As if I had charmed a goddess down from Heaven?

       But these will flee abhorrent from the throne

       Of usurpation!

      [Murmurs increase — and cries of Onward! Onward!

      Have you then thrown off shame,

       And shall not a dear friend, a loyal subject, 165

       Throw off all fear? I tell ye, the fair trophies

       Valiantly wrested from a valiant foe,

       Love’s natural offerings to a rightful king,

       Will hang as ill on this usurping traitor,

       This brother-blight, this Emerick, as robes 170

       Of gold plucked from the images of gods

       Upon a sacrilegious robber’s back. [Enter LORD CASIMIR.

      Casimir. Who is this factious insolent, that dares brand

       The elected King, our chosen Emerick?

       My father!

      Raab Kiuprili. Casimir! He, he a traitor! 175

       Too soon indeed, Ragozzi! have I learnt it. [Aside.

      Casimir. My father and my lord!

      Raab Kiuprili. I know thee not!

      Leader. Yet the remembrancing did sound right filial.

      Raab Kiuprili. A holy name and words of natural duty

       Are blasted by a thankless traitor’s utterance. 180

      Casimir. O hear me, Sire! not lightly have I sworn

       Homage to Emerick. Illyria’s sceptre

       Demands a manly hand, a warrior’s grasp.

       The queen Zapolya’s self-expected offspring

       At least is doubtful: and of all our nobles, 185

       The king, inheriting his brother’s heart,

       Hath honoured us the most. Your rank, my lord!

       Already eminent, is — all it can be —

       Confirmed: and me the king’s grace hath appointed

       Chief of his council and the lord high steward. 190

      Raab Kiuprili. (Bought by a bribe!) I know thee now still less.

      Casimir. So much of Raab Kiuprili’s blood flows here,

       That no power, save that holy name of father,

       Could shield the man who so dishonoured me.

      Raab Kiuprili. The son of Raab Kiuprili a bought bond-slave, 195

       Guilt’s pander, treason’s mouth-piece, a gay parrot,

       School’d to shrill forth his feeder’s usurp’d titles.

       And scream, Long live King Emerick!

      Leaders. Aye, King Emerick!

       Stand back, my lord! Lead us, or let us pass.

      Soldier. Nay, let the general speak!

      Soldiers. Hear him! hear him!

      Raab Kiuprili. Hear

       me, 200

       Assembled lords and warriors of Illyria,

       Hear, and avenge me! Twice ten years have I

       Stood in your presence, honoured by the king:

       Beloved and trusted. Is there one among you

       Accuses Raab Kiuprili of a bribe? 205

       Or one false whisper in his sovereign’s ear?

       Who here dares charge me with an orphan’s rights

       Outfaced, or widow’s plea left undefended?

       And shall I now be branded by a traitor,

       A bought, bribed wretch, who, being called my son, 210

       Doth libel a chaste matron’s name, and plant

       Hensbane and aconite on a mother’s grave?

       The underling accomplice of a robber,

       That from a widow and a widow’s offspring

       Would steal their heritage? To God a rebel, 215

       And to the common father of his country

       A recreant ingrate!

      Casimir. Sire! your words grow dangerous.

       High-flown romantic fancies ill-beseem

       Your age and wisdom. ‘Tis a statesman’s virtue,

       To guard his country’s safety by what means 220

       It best may be protected — come what will

       Of these monk’s morals!

      Raab Kiuprili (aside). Ha! the elder Brutus

       Made his soul iron, though his sons repented.

       They boasted not their baseness. [Draws his sword.

       Infamous changeling!

       Recant this instant, and swear loyalty, 225

       And strict obedience to thy sovereign’s will;

       Or, by the spirit of departed Andreas,

       Thou diest ——

      [Chiefs, &c., rush to interpose; during the tumult

       enter EMERICK, alarmed.

      Emerick. Call out the guard! Ragozzi! seize the assassin. ——

       Kiuprili? Ha! —— [Making signs to the guard to retire.

       Pass on, friends! to the palace. 230

      [Music recommences. — The Procession passes into the

       Palace.

      Emerick. What? Raab Kiuprili? What? a father’s sword

       Against his own son’s breast?

      Raab Kiuprili. ‘Twould best excuse him,

       Were he thy son, Prince Emerick. I abjure him.

      Emerick. This is my thanks, then, that I have commenced

       A reign to which the free voice of the nobles 235

       Hath called me, and the people, by regards

       Of love and grace to Raab Kiuprili’s house?

      Raab Kiuprili. What right hadst thou, Prince Emerick, to bestow

       them?

      Emerick. By what right dares Kiuprili question me?

      Raab Kiuprili. By a right common to all loyal subjects — 240

       To me a duty! As the realm’s co-regent,

      

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