CLOTALDO.

In this manner it succeeded.

With that mildly soothing draught,
Which thou badest should be tempered
With confections, mingling there
Of some herbs the influences,

Whose tyrannic strength and power,
And whose force that works in secret,
So the reason and discourse
Alienateth and suspendeth,

That it leaves the man who quaffs it
Than a human corpse no better,
And in deep sleep casting him
Robs him of his powers and senses
With that potion in effect,
Where all opiates met together
In one draught, to Sigismund's
Narrow dungeon I descended.
There I spoke with him awhile
Of the human arts and letters,
Which the still and silent aspect
Of the mountains and the heavens
Him have taught that school divine,
Where he has been long a learner,
And the voices of the birds
And the beasts has apprehended.

Then, that I might better raise
And exalt his spirit's temper

To the enterprise you aim at,

For

my theme I took the fleetness Of a soaring eagle proud, Which, an overbold contemner Of the lower paths of air, To the sphere of fire ascended, And like winged lightning there Showed, or comet fiery-tressed. Then I hailed its lofty flight, Saying, "Thou in truth art empress Of the birds, 'tis therefore just That thou be o'er all preferrèd." But there was no need of more, For if one of empire speaketh But a word, with high-raised pride Straightway he discourses ever; For in truth his blood excites him, That he fain would be the attempter Of great things—and he exclaimed, yon free and open heaven Are there any then so base

"In

That to serve they have consented?

Then when I consider, then

My misfortunes solace yield me:
For at least if I am subject,
Such 1 am by force, not freely,
Since I never to another

Of freewill myself would render."

When I saw him maddened thus

With these thoughts, the theme for ever
Of his griefs, I pledged him then

With the drugged cup; from the vessel
Scarcely did the potion pass
To his bosom, ere he rendered
All his senses up to sleep-

Through his veins and all his members
Running such an icy sweat,

That had I not known the secret
Of his feigned death, for his life
I in verity had trembled.

In this lethargy he has been borne to the palace, like those whom Marco Polo tells of, that in a like condition were carried into the gardens of the Old Man of the Mountain; he has been placed amid all the splendor and magnificence of his father's royal apartments; and now they are only waiting the moment of his awaking. There are tokens that this has arrived, and that he is approaching: the king and Clotaldo retire. Hardly have they done so, before Sigismund enters: servants are ministering to him, and he is full of wonder and admiration at the inexplicable change which has come over him; but, as will be seen pres. ently, justifying all the provisions in respect of him; as, indeed, the king his father had taken effectual means that they should be fulfilled. The scene, which

is a long one, is yet full of dramatic spirit and vigor, and I will give its chiefest part.

SIGISMUND.

Help me, heaven, what do I see?

Help me, heaven, what things are here?

Filling me with little fear,

But with much perplexity?
I in sumptuous palaces,

Costliest hangings round me spread,

I with servants compassèd,

Gay and glittering as these!

On a couch so rich and rare
I to waken suddenly,

With this retinue to me
Offering royal robes to wear!
Dream to call it, were deceit,
For myself awake I know;
I am Sigismund—even so.
Heavens, let no delusion cheat
Me, but say what this may be,
That has overcome me, while
Sleep my senses did beguile :
Is it truth or phantasy?
But what profit to debate,
And this idle coil to keep?
Best the present joy to reap,
And the future leave to fate.

FIRST SERVANT.

What of sadness veils his brow!

SECOND SERVANT.

Who were not distraught, to whom Should arrive such change of doom?

I for one.

CLARIN.

SECOND SERVANT.

Speak to him now.

FIRST SERVANT.

Wouldst thou they should sing again?

SIGISMUND.

No, their singing pleases not.

SECOND SERVANT.

As thou wert so wrapped in thought, We had hoped to ease thy pain.

SIGISMUND.

Not with melodies like these
I my sadness can assuage;
Nothing did mine ear engage
But those martial harmonies.