Do I again behold thee! hear my name

Uttered by thy sweet voice, whose music dwells
For ever on my fancy, lulling me

Even on my mountain couch with happy dreams.
ZANTH. Heavens !

Your cloak is drenched. Has it then rained so hard?
HERN. I mark'd it not.

ZANTH. You must be cold.

HERN. 'Tis nothing.

ZANTH. Nay, let me dry thy mantle.

Thou'rt cold I'm sure, let me have fire to cheer thee.
HERN. (his hand to his breast) Here,

Here resides a power

To mock the elements, or storm for storm
Encounter them-a fire that sets at nought
The falling torrent or the wintry blast.

Feel this wild pulse. These water-drops refresh me. ZANTH. (taking his cloak) But this encumbers you-and this-(his sword)-I'll take them.

HERN. Nay, not my good sword, unless for jealousyOf one more friend, constant and true as thou art

A friend well proved and trusty. Your Duke-your LordYour Lord so named abroad by every voice

Where is he?

ZANTH. Speak not of him now. This hour Belongs to us.

HERN. This hour-alas! it may be,

This and no more—a bright and starry hour

In one long night of darkness-desolation! (X's to L.)
ZANTH. Hernani !

HERN. (bitterly) Yet this hour I must enjoy,

Be proud to steal one hour of love from him

Who robs me of my life to come.

ZANTH. Nay, calm thee. Good Josepha, dry his mantle. (Exit JOSEPHA with mantle, R. 2 E. ZANTH. (takes a seat L. of table and beckons HERNANI) Come, come and sit by me.

HERN. The Duke is absent then?

ZANTH. Nay, think not of him! (rising and coming down c.)

HERN. Not think of him! You mook me. Hath he not A burning love for thee? Have I not seen

His withered lips imprint on thine a kiss?

ZANTH. 'Twas a kinsman's kiss,

And such as fathers to their children give.

HERN. A kiss thou art unschooled in such a kiss

"Twould madden me to think thou could'st requite. I cry you mercy. I offend, perhaps,

His blooming bride. You doubtless wed him freely.
ZANTH. I have shown pity for an inward grief
That long oppressed him, and he hath been to me
A kind protector and a loving kinsman;
But with my own goodwill I ne'er will wed him.

HERN. Not with thy own good-will? Dost, think the lunatic

Will forge thy chains of iron?

ZANTH. The King, 'tis said, will have it so.

HERN. (surprised and much excited) The King! the King! A heavier, bitterer curse

Than all I yet have breathed, now light on him.
My noble father on the scaffold died,

Condemned by his! Sworn and relentless foes,
Full thirty years their strife endured. The grave
Has closed on both. But in their sons their hate,
Sacred inheritance, survives more fiercely.
My love for thee, that for a time had seemed
To soothe my stubborn rancour, arms it now
With sting more deadly. Carlos of Castile!
I've hunted thee as famished wolves their prey-
Watched, trace'd thee like a bloodhound. In good time
Thou com'st athwart my path. Thou'rt welcome heartily.
(X's to R.

ZANTH. You terrify me.

HERN. Hear me. The man to whom foul tyranny Would link thy youth, is a grandee, rich, powerful. His youth is past-long past. Thy heart's free throb Of honest sympathy can ne'er be his.

What then? Thou'lt be a Duchess! move in pageants, Bravely apparell'd as the Queen herself

Thy sphere a court-thy home a palace!

Am poor, in woods and wilds I dwell,

And live as lives the tiger. It may chance

I have my blazon of nobility,

I

Tho' a brave father's blood may somewhat rust it.
Rights and titles

In the black scaffold-cloth enveloped long,

Which this good sword may one day bring to light.
Meantime the beam that blesses all, the free
And common elements, are all my portion.
I cannot waste my heart in jealous fears,
This hour unites, or else for ever parts us.
Decide then. Wed thy duke-or follow me.

ZANTH. I'll follow thee.

HERN. Thou wilt? Rash maid! Thou'lt share a lot like mine!

For noble as I am by birth-by nature

The friend of man, the foe alone of tyrants,

I am proclaimed an outlaw. Throughout Spain
The death-shout hath pursued me, till secure
Amid old Catalonia's wilderness

Of savage rocks, I stood at bay

And won her lusty mountaineers in troops

To stand by me-This horn now musters them,
Three thousand strong! You tremble! Such is he
Thou lov'st-Think well on't-caves and dark ravines
Our only shelter-couched on the bare earth,
Fed by the changeful fortune of the chase,
Or hostile plunder-every sound a larum
To lynx-eyed caution, yielding not an hour
Of tranquil rest-Oh! think, day after day,
To wander with me thus-it may be, follow me
Where I my father follow-to the scaffold.
ZANTH. I'll follow thee!

HERN. The Duke will have thee pillowed

On softest down! The Duke lives proud in favour,

His name untarnished—his escutcheon bright—

ZANTH. (eagerly) I'll follow thee. To-morrow will we fly. I owe my life to thee. I am thine.

The spell that won thee

Three thousand followers, hath won me too.

With thee I'll wander, or with thee abide.

To see thee, hear thee, know and share thy fortunes,

Is all I ask. Oh! we will never part.

When thy last footstep hath escaped my ear
My heart no longer seems to beat-entombed
And dead within my bosom-dead to all things-
Till, heard afar, the sweet returning music
Dissolves the trance and brings me life again.

HERN. Was I reserved for this! unlooked-for-hour!

Such love is only woman's; it hath changed

My tyrant heart, abashed by selfish will,

And now I shudder at my rash demand—

For yet you know not half the history

(Here DON CARLOS breaks from the closet, L., with a violent crash. ZANTHE shrieks, and clings to HERNANI.)

CARL. Your history's too long. You that are fond Of air, should have more mercy for a man,

Stifled as I have been.

ZANTH. I know not! Sure some robber.

CARL.

Softly,

Donna

My crippled limbs have had such lame amends
In satisfaction of my eyes or ears

That who your favoured visitor may be

"Twere rash to guess at; yet I scarcely think
Our fellowship will much disgrace him.
ZANTH. Leave us.

HERN. (X's to c.) What seek you here?
CARL. First let me know, rough sir,
Your proud authority to question me.
What if I seek an hour or two's diversion?
HERN. Unless your will bequeath it to your heir,
Your raillery may be brief.

CARL. Nay, every man

His turn. I have, with all due courtesy,

Allowed you yours, and claim requital, signor.

That you should love this lady's bright black eyes

I marvel not, for by St. Dominick

I love them too; and could not chuse but know

The youth who found o’nights such prompt admittance
While I stood patient sentinel below.

HERN. I'd have your curiosity provoke

No further knowledge of him. Hence!
CARL.

Your pardon.

Of you I know enough, but for the lady (x's c.)
She is a mine so rich in sweet instruction
As may excuse my tarrying to explore.
A boon I ask, for her sake and for yours.
The steed who walks an undisputed course
Wins an inglorious race. I may afford you
A trophy for your victory, and exercise
The lady's judgment with a choice at least.

ZANTH. I know you not. How got you here admittance?
CARL. I was mistaken for a happier man,

But not so well disposed of.

HERN.

Insolent!

CARL. If thus you swell, keep clear of yonder closet; You would explode as quickly there

HERN.

As now

My sword would quit its scabbard. (draws)
CARL. (Xing R., draws also) Give it air,
We'll find it exercise.

ZANTH.

Hernani! hold!

For my sake! (throws herself between them.)

HERN. (puts her across to his L.) 'Tis an ill-placed quarrel, sir;

An honest foe in fitter time will end it.

Your name!

"Tis a secret

Marr'd in its purpose by a rash disclosure,
Reserved for one into whose ear I'll whisper it,
When by a conqueror's knee transfixed I hold him,
And plunge my dagger in his heart.

CARL.

Brave talking!

Your vengeance in contingency is deadly,
Your present wisely sacrificed.

HERN.

No more-defend yourself.

(they draw, ZANTHE in despair-loud knocking heard at the D. L. C.)

ZANTH. We are surprised-Oh! heavens ;

The combatants pause-JOSEPHA enters at the door R. 2 E., in great alarm.

HERN. Who knocks so loud?

JOSEP. Oh, madam! Fatal chance!

It is the Duke returned.

ZANTH. The Duke! I'm lost!

HERN. This way, we'll fly. (x's to R. C.)

JOSEP. 'Tis guarded from without.

LEO. (without L. c.) Admit me, Zanthe.

HERN. (to JOSEPHA, who is going to the door) Woman, stay.
JOSEP. Good saints defend us! We are all undone.
HERN. (to CARLOS) We must conceal ourselves.
CARL. Where! (HERNANI points to closet-L.)
You'll excuse me.

What! two such panting spirits! we should shake
The very walls. You, signor, where you will;
I care not to encounter duke or devil,

And here I stand.

HERN. This outrage shall o'ertake you.
CARL. (to JOSEPHA) Open the door.

HERN. Are you then mad?

CARL. (more imperatively) Open the door.
JOSEP. I will. (runs trembling to the door.)

ZANTH. Mercy!

The door, L. C., is opened, and enter DON LEO DE SYLVA, followed by ATTENDANTS with lights; he is dressed in black, and wears the Order of the Golden Fleece.

LEO. So, my fair cousin, you've your midnight audience,

B