That is her window; and beneath, the door

Sacred to love. Can she have changed her purpose?
The hour is nigh. Yet lights are everywhere,

Save there where I would have them.

HENRI. I ponder still my liege, on your strange rival, Who, as you well conjecture, may be captain

Of these marauding rebels.

MATHI. Heard you his name, my liege ?
CARL. I nothing heard

Distinctly; 'twas Romani, or Fernani;
Some name with such an ending.

HENRI. 'Twas Hernani.

CARL. It was so.

MATHI. Then 'twas he.

RICAR. Their chief, Hernani.

HENRI. And could your highness let him thus escape? CARL. (turning on him with a grave look) D'ye question me, my lord? (they withdraw in deference and respect.) You'd set a price

Upon his head, perhaps? Yet it becomes

His shoulders. Nor can we condemn his taste.
Ambitious as it is, so we can cheat him

Of his fair mistress, to his head he's welcome.
Now friends, be firm, resolute. Her signal
I know. The lovers both must be secured.
We'll share the task; that is, you'll understand,
The lady shall be mine, and your's the bandit.
HENRI. You've chosen well, my liege.

CARL. Bar his approach, at least. Away! my task
I'll answer for.

MATHI. Your highness will confess 'tis not hardest. (Exeunt RICARDO, MATTHIAS and HENRIQUEZ, R. U. E. CARL. Now for her signal. (claps his hands thrice deliberately, and DONNA ZANTHE opens the casement and appears a the balcony.)

ZANTH. Is it you, Hernani?

CARL. I dare not answer her. (repeats the signal.)

ZANTH. I come! I come! (closes the casement, and the

lights disappear.)

CARL. With three such sentinels we are secure

Of elbow-room to woo her royally.

ZANTHE enters from the little door beneath L.

ZANTH. Hernani. (going to R., he advances briskly towards her, L., she lets fall the light.)

Heavens! 'tis not his step, I'm sure on't. (endeavours to

retreat, he catches her in his arms.)

CARL. My life!

ZANTH. 'Tis not his voice. I'm lost.

CARL. Fear nothing.

It is a voice will pledge to thee a heart

The truest, the tenderest, a voice of power

To crown thy every wish; nay, to crown thee!

ZANTH. The king.

CARL. And would'st thou spurn his fond embrace ? He is thy slave. A kingdom, and a life

Of love he offers thee for thine.

ZANTH. (struggling) Help, help!

CARL. 'Gainst whom? You deal not with a robber now, But with a king, the foe and scourge of robbers.

ZANTH. 'Tis false! Thou art the robber, that would seek By lawless force what honour hath denied thee!

Thou stain'st my cheek with shame, but 'tis for thee;
For thee and thy foul purpose.

Were it honest,

Would'st thou at midnight snare a helpless woman?
And darest thou talk of robbers! Thou! Hernani

Is noble, generous; and I tell thee king,

Were each man station'd where his heart should place him, The sceptre would be his, the dagger thine.

Was not my father noble?

CARL. I will make

Thee greater. Thou shalt be a queen-
An empress.

ZANTH. Twere treason! I have pledged, as woman will, My life and soul in bond irrevocable

By human power tho' tongue had never shaped it,
And rather would I share Hernani's fortune

Ev'n at its bleakest-cold abandonment,

War, exile, beggary, and worst of all,

The scourge, great King, of thine immaculate justice,
Than be enthroned an empress with an emperor.

CARL. You hate me, then?

ZANTH. I love you not. (X's to L.)

CARL. (with increased violence) No matter!

ZANTH. Oh! heavens, my liege, behold me then thy suppliant.

Be gracious, merciful. What, when around thee

Beauty in thronging constellation shines,

Courting thy love, and eager to requite it;

And what has he-the branded, the proscribed?
Canst thou not cull thy joys

Throughout thy rich Castile and Arragon?
And would'st thou, sovereign lord

Of this wide world of treasures, rob an outcast
Of one poor heart, who has but that on earth?

CARL. (still dragging her) Thy words are breath to fire! hence, hence, my world

For thee and for thy love-claim what thou wilt.
ZANTH. I ask but one thing.

CARL. Speak.

ZANTH. (snatching a dagger from his belt) I have it.

Now.

Advance one step

CARL. I'faith, I marvel not

(the KING falls back.)

You love a rebel. Yet 'twere sin to fear thee. (inclining to her.)

ZANTH. Forbear! or on my soul, you lightly hold

Your life and mine. Hernani! ho! Hernani!

CARL. Your cries are vain. I have at hand to aid me Three of my followers.

HERN. (suddenly appearing from R. U. E.) One you have forgotten.

(The KING turns suddenly round-HERNANI stands motionless before him enveloped in his cloak, his hat slightly raised. DONNA ZANTHE, with an exclamation of joy, rushes and clings to him.)

Heaven knows, great sir,

I could have wished our place of meeting now
Had been at fitter distance from the last.

ZANTH. (R.) Nay, let us fly from him.
HERN. (calmly) There is no haste.

CARL. HO! there, cravens !

HERN. Your friends are in the power of mine.

Our quarrel here must end, and 'twixt us two.

What! you have laid a hand of violence

Upon a noble lady! King of Spain,

'Twas a rash act, and not a valiant one.

CARL. Peace, thou fantastic ruffian! Dost flatter thee

We meet as yesternight?

HERN. And if we meet not as equals,

Dost flatter thee pre-eminence is thine?

Know'st thou the throng of swelling thoughts that now

Uplift me o'er the mighty space between us?

Thou art a King! and what is he whose grasp

(seizing the KING's arm) Now mocks thy majesty. Hear then, and know me.

Thy father was the murderer of mine→

I hate thee! thou hast despoiled and branded me-
I hate thee! thou would'st rob me of her love,
For whose sake I could have forgotten thee-

I hate thee! from my heart's deep core I hate thee.
CARL. Madman!

HERN. In an unlook'd-for hour you cross'd us.
To-night I sought her, and again I found you';
But in thy treacherous snare thyself entangled,
Thou art beleaguer'd, and must do me right.

Stand to thy guard. (the KING stirs not) Do I defy a coward ?

CARL. One way alone, I'll do thee right. I scorn thee! HERN. Scorn me! Is it because

Placed, darkling, in my power, I have forgone

A bravo's justice for a soldier's, thou

Believest my vengeance air-blown as a woman's ?
I'll not be baffled. Draw

CARL. Against thee? never.

I am King. I will not fight with thee.

HERN. Do you forget

CARL. Last night we both were maskers,

To-day discloses us for what we are.

Thou art my rebel subject; I am thy king.

HERN. You rave-yet urge me not.

CARL. I spurn thy challenge.

Whistle thy gang. Let all your daggers strike !
The combat I disdain.

HERN. Of this I dreamed not.

CARL. What dreamed you then a king could be entrapp'd

To play thy game, and aid thy broad imposture-
Gild o'er thy crimes, and stain'd with blood and plunder,
Assist thee with a garish cloak of chivalry

To dazzle a weak woman? No-that cloak

I strip, and leave thee in thy naked infamy.

Stick to thy trade. Give place, or bravo, stab me!
HERN. (inwardly struggling) Hell!

ZANTH. (stopping him) My Hernani! Wilt thou kill the

king!

That king so long the friend of the De Sylvas!

For thine honour,

Which if his words wrong, let not thine own deeds,
Fly! fly! and heed him not.

HERN. (to the KING, after a struggle and convulsive move. ment of his sword) You are free.

The time may come when we may meet as equals,

Each at the head of armies. (the KING smiles) Aye, an

army.

My gathering bands may form as well as thine;
For what (save numbers only) hath conferr'd
That prouder name on many a robber band.
Whose deeds make us illustrious crusaders.
And Kings to spoil and trample on the weak,
By fifty thousands lead their armies forth,
Who hang up modest fifty as banditti.
Pass, but be sure you will not be forgotten.

CARL. (X's R.) Gramercy! Sir, nor you; and your forbearance,

I warn you still, is at your utmost peril.
I hold thee for a traitor and a rebel,

If nothing worse. My refuge is at hand,

With power unlimited, to crush at once

Thy boast and thee. Yet with this notice, signor,
As tranquilly I turn my back on thee
As if so fierce a foe had never been.

(Exit R.

HERN. What trial more than this can nature prove? Do I not love thee now?

ZANTH.

Too well; and yet

The King, whate'er his threats, is ever generous.

HERN. The King hath rarely said the thing he means not,

Nor lingers in the act. Ere this the cry

Is up. The lion is abroad;

and soon,

Martial and civil, grooms, lacqueys, magistrates,

And men at arms, will run an eager race

To win the price of this devoted head.

ZANTH. Oh! Heaven defend us! Let us fly at once. HERN. Nay, not together-let my hastening doom Restore thee to thy safety-Here we part.

ZANTH. Is this to stab me with reproach?
HERN. Reproach?

Oh! though the only light that yet hath cheer'd,
How blessedly! my dark and wintry fortune-
Sweet comforter! most pure and beautiful,
That thro' their burning channels still can draw
These tears-not an eternity of torture

Should wring from me one bitter thought of thee,
Or any but of love-of boundless love.