Where all his safety lies; too proud to dare

The long descent to the low depth from whence
The desperate climber rose.

Rie. Ay, there's the sting

That I, an insect of to-day, outsoar

The reverend worm, nobility!

Wouldst shame me
With my poor parentage! Sir, I'm the son
Of him who kept a sordid hostelry

In the Jew's quarter; my good mother cleansed
Linen for honest hire. Canst thou say worse?
Ang. Can worse be said?

Rie. Add, that my boasted school-craft

Was gained from such base toil, gained with such pain
That the nice nurture of the mind was oft

Stolen at the body's cost. I have gone dinnerless
And supperless, the scoff of our poor street,
For tattered vestments and lean hungry looks,
To pay the pedagogue. Add what thou wilt
Of injury. Say that, grown into man,
I've known the pittance of the hospital,
And, more degrading still, the patronage
Of the Colonna. Of the tallest trees

The roots delve deepest. Yes, I've trod thy halls,
Scorned and derided! 'midst their ribald crew,
A licensed jester, save the cap and bells;
I have borne this—and I have borne the death,
The unavenged death, of a dear brother.
I seemed I was a base, ignoble slave.
What am I? Peace, I say! what am I now?
Head of this great republic, chief of Rome ;
In all but name, her sovereign; last of all,
Thy father.

Ang. In an evil hour

Rie. Darest thou

Say that? An evil hour for thee, my Claudia!

Thou shouldst have been an emperor's bride, my fairest.
In evil hour thy woman's heart was caught,
"By the form moulded as an antique god :"
The gallant bearing, the feigned tale of love—
All false, all outward, simulated all.

Ang. But that I loved her, but that I do love her
With a deep tenderness, softer and fonder

Than thy ambitioned-hardened heart e'er dreamed of,
My sword should answer thee.
Rie. Go to, lord Angelo;

Thou lovest her not. Men taunt not, nor defy
The dear one's kindred. A bright atmosphere
Of sunlight and of beauty breathes around
The bosom's idol. I have loved-she loves thee ;
And therefore, thy proud father-even the shrew,
Thy railing mother, in her eyes, are sacred.
Lay not thy hand upon thy sword, fair son-
Keep that brave for thy comrades. I'll not fight thee.
Go and give thanks to yonder simple bride,
That her plebeian father mews not up,
Safe in the citadel, her noble husband.
Thou art dangerous, Colonna. But, for her,
Beware!

Ang. Come back, Rienzi!

A brave defiance in thy teeth.

Thus X throw

(Going.)

(Throws down his glove.)

(Takes up the glove.)

For her dear sake-come, to thy bride! home! home!

Ang. Dost fear me, Tribune of the people?

Rie.

Fear!

Do I fear thee! Tempt me no more.

Home to thy bride!

Ang. Now, Ursini, I come

Fit partner of thy vengeance!

This once,

(Exit.)

(Exit.)

XXXIV.-MAURICE, THE WOODCUTTER.-Somerset.

PRINCE

LEOPOLD-BARON LEIBHEIM-COUNT HARTENSTEINMAURICE HANS, HIS FRIEND-DOMINIE STARRKOPH-GLANDOFF, FRIEND OF THE COUNT-CAPTAIN MANHOOF―RIEGEL, PRISON-KEEPER-BOLTZEN, HIS TURNKEY-FRITZ, SON OF MAURICE-MARIE, WIFE OF MAURICE-LOTTA, HER DAUGHTER

OFFICERS-PEASANTS.

Scene 1.-A pleasant Village.-A post from which a bell is suspended.

(Enter groups of peasantry, in holiday suits, preceded by music. Enter Dominie Starrkoph, with a large paper.) Dominie. Ah-good morrow to ye, my merry men, all ! (Enter Hans.)

Hans. The same to you, Dominie.

Dom. Now for it-open wide your ears, and listen unto me. Hans. Why, what have you got there, Dominie?

Dom. A petition to our most gracious sovereign, Prince Leopold; written and composed by no less a personage than Dominie Sebastian Starrkoph, schoolmaster, bachelor of arts, and doctor of law.

Omnes. A petition!

Dom. Aye, a petition against the cruelty of our governor, Count Hartenstein.

Hans. Hush! take care what you say, Dominie.

Dom. Marry, for what, friend Hans? It is not my place to fear, but, rather, to make others fear: my schoolboys, for instance. You know me, master Hans; recollect-I've often given you a sound flogging before now.

Hans. I know that well enough, and I'm very much obliged to you for it; but, Count Hartenstein, our governor, is no schoolboy of yours; recollect that, master Dominie.

Dom. Meddle thou not with me, friend Hans; my deeds will bear the light, and I am at all times ready to answer for them. But come-now for the petition; which, if you approve of, I trust you will have no objection to sign; that is, as many of ye as can write.

Hans. None in the world. I'll make my mark.

Omnes. And so will I—and I

Dom. Bravo! And now bring me a chair, or a table, or

any thing elevated-in order that I, being an eminent man, may have an exalted situation. (The peasants bring a large barrel, on which the Dominie mounts, to read his petition. Reading.) May it please your most illustrious royal highness-the humble petition of the inhabitants of Greenwald, showeth : firstly, that your petitioners are rapidly sinking from the level of ra tional beings, to a condition far beneath the brute creation." Omnes. Bravo, Dominie!

Dom. "Secondly, the cause of such degradation, is solely the cruel tyranny of their governor, Count Hartenstein; who, abusing the authority reposed in him, tramples on your highness's loyal subjects, and treats them no better than so many oxen, calves, sheep, or asses!"

Omnes. Very true-very true, Dominie!

Dom. "Thirdly, the state of matters has arrived at such a pitch, that poor rogues are hanged in dozens, in order that the rich ones may go free, and live in ease and security.”

Omnes. Most true.

Dom. "Fourthly, your highness's loyal and affectionate subjects have more taxes to pay, than bread to eat.” Omnes. So we have-'tis very true.

Dom. "Ffthly, if the said Count Hartenstein be not instantly removed from power, your highness's loyal subjects must infal libly all die of a consumption-and, like a leaky vessel on the stormy ocean, sink to the bottom." (At these words the head of the barrel gives way, and the Dominie falls in. The peasantry help him out again. In the midst of the confusion, enter suddenly Count Hartenstein, with guards and attendants, several of whom carry whips.)

Count. What vulgar revelry is this? Go, idle knaves, and get ye hence, to work.

Dom. To work!-aye, forsooth, that we may have more money for thee, when thou art pleased to send thy taxgatherers to demand it.

Count. Why, thou audacious rebel! this language to me! Dost thou not tremble, when I lift my arm?

Dom. No. Strike a poor defenseless old man, if thou hast courage enough to do so-'twill but be adding another to the many glorious actions thou already hast to boast of.

Count. Reptile! thou art beneath my notice.

Dom. A reptile, am I? Treat me as such; tread upon me, if you dare and, old as I am, I'll turn and bite thee. Count. Gag the vile slave! (Sees the petition on ground.)

What do I see? a paper too!-some vile conspiracy, no doubt. (Takes it up.) These plotting knaves are ever brooding mischief. (Reads.) Audacious rebels! what is this?

Dom. What so seldom reaches your ears, and never escapes your lips-the truth.

Count. Insolent slave !-but I'll punish thee! Guards, seize on the hoary villain, and bind him to yonder post. One hun. dred lashes be his chastisement. Strip him, and spare him not. Omnes. Shame !-shame!

Count. Peace, murmuring curs! or ye shall share his fate. (To his guards.) Obey my orders.

Hans. (Stepping forward.) An't please your excellency; seeing as how the Dominie is an old man, and I'm young and strong; and as it would grieve my heart to see one who has acted like a father to me, suffer such a dreadful punishment-I humbly beg leave to bear the one hundred lashes upon my own brawny shoulders, in place of the poor old Dominie. (Strips off his coat.)

Count. Fool, for thy pains-no! the old rebel shall himself receive the punishment awarded. Strip him, and bind him fast. (The guards are about to obey, when the Dominie saves them the trouble, by very deliberately pulling off his coat himself.) He mocks me, and my power. (To the Dominie.) If I mistake not,

thou art a schoolmaster?

Dom. I am; and would give the world to have thee for a scholar.

Count. Why so?

Dom. That I might try, if by a little wholesome correction, I could make thee good for something.

Count. Insulting wretch!-dost thou not condescend to beg for mercy ?

Dom. What! of a man whose heart is made of marble? Thou knowest as much of mercy as of justice.

Count. Such vile audacity is past endurance; and yet, to make thy punishment the more degrading, I'll have thee flogged by thy own schoolboys. (To an officer.) Go, fetch the urchins hither. Bind him fast, I say. (The Dominie is bound to the bell post. Officer comes from cottage with the schoolboys, little Fritz at their head.)

Fritz Mercy on us! only look!-the Dominie stripped and bound to the bell post! What can this mean?

Count. (To the child.) He has been a naughty boy, and must be flogged. He has often whipped you all has he not?