Let me into the moonlight-gold, gold, gold! Ha! some one comes! [A step is heard approaching. I might have groaned for that poor wretch's groan · [He takes off his belt, and then securely firing Thou shalt be my true breast-plate, [He shrinks into the shade, and lies close But hence! this is no land of safety for me. Man. Now, by your leave, good friend, Who may you be? Thos. A poor night traveller, Who takes up his cheap quarters 'neath the hedges. I have a little liking for your pillow, May'st please you take the farther side o' the bed! Thos. First come, first served-it is a well known adage. Man. Come, come, my friend, these are my ancient quarters; I have a foolish liking for this spot All are alike to you Thos. And will maintain it! I have possession, Man. It shall then be tried! SCENE V. [He goes out. Several years afterwards.—A dark night in a distant country. A field of battle covered with dead. Enter Thomas of Torres with a small lantern in his hand. Thos. Rings; dagger-sheaths; gold chains and spurs; massy gold embroidery-this is all clear gain -no deduction for agents-no plaguy discount-all net profit! [he gropes among the bodies.] But ha!thou art worth looking after! Come, my young gentleman, I'll be your valet!-Let go your sword. Poor wretch! that was a strong death-grasp! Now [He lays hold on Thomas, and they off with your rings!-one, two, three! I'll lay my struggle together. Ha ha, you thief, then you have got the bag! Thos. I have! Man. You villain! you marauding thief! Man. [within the thicket.] I am a dead man, help! Christ help me! I am murdered! Thos. [rushing out.] He is not! no! Cuffs do not murder men! SCENE IV. life thou wast a coxcomb-a fine blade, with wit as keen as thy sword's edge. [he tears open the pockets.] Empty, empty! I'd be sworn he expended his gold on his outside-I've known such in my day! [He goes forward;—a groan is heard. Thos. Here's life among the dead!-mercy! that sound In this unearthly silence chills my blood. A faint Voice. For the dear love of Christ, be't friend or foe, [He runs off. Make short my death! A cave by the sea shore. Enter Thomas of Torres; he takes out the bag. Thos. Now let me count-now let me see my gains. Ah! it reminds me of the thirty pieces, The price of blood! I would give every piece Now let me count- Enter A FINE GENTLEMAN. Gent. Good morrow, most excellent sir! Gent. I have the misfortune, sir, to need a thousand gold pieces, and knowing your unimpeachable honour, I have pleasure in asking the loan from you. Thos. Humph! Gent. Your rate of interest, sir, is -? Of twenty thousand pieces on these landsThos. Thirty per cent. for spendthrift heirs, and These parchments will be surety for the whole! two responsible sureties. Thos. Wife and children! talk not to me of wives and children!-I'll have my money! Man. I tell you, sir, it is impossible, without you seize his goods. Thos. Then take the city bailiff, and get them appraised. Man. I cannot do it, sir!-You shall see him yourself. [aside.] The nether mill-stone is running water compared to his heart! [He goes out. Thos. Twenty thousand gold pieces, and seven months' interest-and give that up because a man has wife and children. - Ha! ha! ha! [He resumes his pen, and calculates interest. Enter A GENTLEMAN, with a depressed countenance. Gent. Sir, my misfortunes are unparalleledMy ship was stranded in the squall last week, And now my wife is at the point of death! Thos. [glancing over them.] The lands of Torres ! Ill words obtain not men's consideration- Lord of T. Sir, forty thousand pieces for the lordship Of Torres were a miserable price- Lord of T. So did the last possessor leave it, sir- Thos. Sir, I am no extortioner, God knows; Tis a poor price for the rich lands of Torres ! Thos. I'll give you not an hour!-not e'en a minute! [he stamps on the floor with his foot. The hold of a ship.-Thomas of Torres seated upon an iron chest, and another beside him. Enter a lady, wrapped in a long cloak and veiled; two younger ones follow, supporting a third-the master of the vessel follows them. Lady. Are these, good sir, the best accommodations? Master. Unless you pay the price of what are better. Lady. [throwing back her veil, and showing a fair but sad countenance] Sir, I have told you more of our distress But for my youngest child, my dying daughter- And 't would have seemed ungracious to refuse her SCENE VIII. A small chamber in the house of Torres.-Thomas as the lord of Torres, with money-bags on his table. Lord of T. I am the Lord of Torres! that one thought Is with me night and day. The lord of Torres! [A low rap is heard, and a poor widow Widow. Pardon, my lord: I am an aged widow, He will be here anon to make his offer; [She lays a few small silver coins before Lord of T. You shall not be disturbed in your possession! Wid. Ten thousand blessings on your noble lordship! [She goes out. Lord of T. [testing the ring and coins] They're sterling gold and silver, though the weight Is small; but every little addeth to the whole. John [bowing very low.] There is a little fielda worthless field, My noble lord, which brings you little profit field. John. My lord, its worth is small to your estate; [He supports the young lady out, and To mine't is otherwise and she who rents it the others follow. Thos. Why, yonder is the lady of the pearls- And she is poor, is burdened with three daughters! Is poor, and hath no management of land. day. John. That rent is small my price would yield you more. Lord of T. I would not do her wrong, she is a widow! John. She is a widow only through their crimeHer husband died for murder- - a foul murder, Done in this very field! Lord of T. This very field! John. Yes, my good lord. Some nineteen years agone, Within a lonesome hollow of this field A wandering pedlar was discovered, murdered. Were found within this woman's husband's shed John. Well, sir, about the business of the field. Serv. Master, good lack! she will be dead ere morning! Lord of T. Then elsewhere let her die! Bethink you fool, "T would cost a noble, but to bury her! Serv. [going out] Good lord! and he such plenty. Enter STEWARD. Steward. The barns are full, iny lord, and there is yet grain to be housed. Lord of T. The cost were great to build more barnslet it be housed under this roof. Stew. My lord! Lord of T. To be sure! the state-rooms are large Lord of T. The widow woman still shall hold and lofty—and to me they are useless, let them be the field! filled! Stew. What! with the gilt cornices, and the old John. [laying a small bag before him]. But my lords and ladies on the walls! good lord, to me it is an object One hundred marks I'll give you for the field. And others might be murdered in that field; Besides, if it were so, was it my crime That the land's law did deal unjustly by him? Upon their heads, who heard him plead in vain, Shall be his innocent blood, and not on mine! [He takes up the bag. Ha ha! this wealthy purchaser has gold In plenty, if he thus can bribe. May be I have another little field will tempt him; But next time, I will have a better price Now let me find a place wherein to store it! [He considers for a few moments- then takes up his keys, and goes to a small closet. SCENE IX. A chamber lighted by a small iron lamp, the lord of Torres in his might-cap and dressing-gown—a closet with an iron door is beside his bed, he has a bunch of keys in his hand. - Enter AN OLD SERVANT. Servant. Master, there is a woman at the door, And two small children; they do cry for bread; Only a little morsel! Lord of T. A murrain on them! Serv. Drive them hence! Lord of T. The same! are they not well placed, so that a wain might approach without impediment? Stew. It were a mortal sin! Lord of T. I cannot afford to build new barnsremember the mildew last season, and the cow that died in March - these are great losses! Stew. Well, my lord, the harvest is ready, it must be done quickly. Lord of T. A broad door-way making, will not cost much; send me a builder to-morrow, and let us have an estimate - these people require being tied down to the farthing! [The steward goes out. [The Lord of Torres unlocks his iron door, Fire! murder! thieves! my gold! my iron chest! [He feels for his keys. [He lies down and sleeps. [An awful voice passes through the chamber. "Thou fool, this night thy soul will be required from thee; then whose will those things be which thou hast provided ?" ACHZIB was abundantly satisfied with the result of his second temptation. He had watched the gradual strengthening of the passion; the sealing up, as it were, of the heart against both God and man. "It was not," said Achzib, in great self-gratulation, "because the temptation was in itself strong, that I have this time been so successful, but especially beI have warned them hence, cause the tempted was so wisely chosen. Human nature has a strange propensity to extremes; he who wastes his patrimony with profligate indifference, and reduces himself to penury, is of all others the man to become insatiably avaricious. In proportion SCENE I. as he lavished in youth, will he hoard up in age; the hand that threw away thousands, will afterwards clutch at groats,--and, oh marvellous inconsistency! A seaport city.-Evening.-A small mansion in the not from having learned the value of the good he has abused, but from a passionate lust of possession, which, like the extravagance of madness, seems to reverse the very nature of the man." "The world," continued Achzib, "has but little sympathy for the ruined spendthrift; men are slow in giving to him who has not taken care of his own --and thus they assist the reaction of his spirit. He talks of the faithlessness of friends, of the jeers and taunts of the world, and the triumph of enemies, till, exciting himself to hostility against his kind, he commences a warfare upon it, and becomes its scourge and its shame. He gives not to the needy; because, says he, in my need, none gave to me-and he gets all he can by fair means and foul, because in his abundance all, he believes, made a prey of him. Oh, most blind and senseless of passions!—he would even rob himself, to enrich his coffers-he would deny himself even sustenance, were it not that death would sever him from the god of his idolatry!" "And now," said Achzib, "I will try this passion in a modified degree, upon another and a nobler spirit. The sins of Thomas of Torres, comparatively speaking, were sins against society at large. My next victim shall be taken from the bosom of affection; he shall bring desolation upon the domestic hearth, and wither those souls in which he was bound up as in the bundle of life. To accomplish this, I must first sap, if not remove the barriers of sound principle. But once familiarize him with sin; but once induce him to sunder some one tie which has hitherto bound him to virtue, no matter how slight it be, the most important work is done, and the remaining ties become loosened for the first dereliction of duty, the first swerving aside from the integrity of virtue, is the act by which a human soul becomes the chartered victim of evil." "The mere sordid miser," continued Achzib, recurring once more to his subject, "is a hateful spectacle. The toad hiding itself under a noisome stone, is not more hideous than his moral deformity; but the downfall of a nobler spirit, drawing, as it were, the seventh part of heaven after it, in the darkened pleasures, the wounded affections of all that clung to it, is an achievement worthy of the Prince of Darkness himself!" THE PIRATE. PERSONS. ALBERT LUBERG, THE PIRATE. MADAME LUBERG, HIS MOTHER. CONSTANCE, HER NIECE, AND THE BETROTHED OF ALBERT. ACHZIB, THE CAPTAIN OF THE VESSEL SEAMEN, CREW OF THE WRECK, MERCHANTS, suburbs; Constance sitting in a little room, looking at a miniature. Constance. There is a faint resemblance-but so faint! And yet the eyes in colour are the same- And when I pray for him, my spirit takes Oh no, oh no, thank heaven! Cons. And any lives on board? Mad. L. But two, the helmsman and a cabin-boy; The others were gone out by Albert's leave, To pass the day on shore. God help him now! For there went down his all.-All, all was ventured In that one cargo; he's a beggar now! No longer Albert Luberg the young merchant, On whom the old grey-headed men on 'Change Looked with respect 'cause fortune favoured him! Yet that was the least reason he should win A wise man's grace-was he not good and kind? A prudent, generous captain; loved by all, And served with such devotion, that his crew Symbolled fidelity? and such a son! Oh, there is not a mother in the city, But, when impressing on her child its duty, Says, "be thou but a son like Albert Luberg!" [She weeps. Cons. This is our consolation, not our sorrow! God will not let him want a helping handHe only tries him thus, to prove his virtue. But hark-his step! Oh, 't is his step indeed! |