[He meditates in gloomy reflection for some minutes, and his countenance slowly relaxes from its stern expression. Prior returns, and stands opposite to him in an attitude of supplication. Bertram resumes his sternness.

Ber. Why art thou here?-There was a hovering angel Just lighting on my heart-and thou hast scared itPrior. Yea, rather, with my prayers I'll woo 'it back. In very pity of thy soul I come

[Long pause.

To weep upon that heart I cannot soften-
Oh! thou art on the verge of awful death-
Think of the moment, when the veiling scarf
That binds thine eyes, shall shut out earth for ever-
When, in thy dizzy ear, hurtles the groan

Of those who see the smiting hand uprear'd,

Thou canst but feel-that moment comes apace

[Bertram smiles.

But terrors move in thee a horrid joy,
And thou art harden'd by habitual danger
Beyond the sense of aught but pride in death.

[Bertram turns away.

Can I not move thee by one power in nature?
There have been those whom Heaven hath fail'd to move,
Yet moved they were by tears of kneeling age.
I wave all pride of ghostly power o'er thee-

[Kneels.

I lift no cross, I count no bead before thee-
By the lock'd agony of these wither'd hands,
By these white hairs, such as thy father bore,
(Whom thou couldst ne'er see prostrate in the dust)
With toil to seek thee here my limbs do fail,
Send me not broken-hearted back again—
Yield, and relent, Bertram, my son, my son.

[Weeping.

[Looking up eagerly.

Did not a gracious drop bedew thine eye?

Ber. Perchance a tear had fallen, hadst thou not mark'd it.
Prior. [Rising with dignity.]

Obdurate soul-then perish in thy pride-
Hear, in my voice, thy parting angel speak,
Repent-and be forgiven.

Damon, Pythias, Dionysius.

Pyth. [To the Executioner.]

THERE is no pang in thy deep wedge of steel
After that parting.-Nay, sir, you may spare

Maturin.

Yourself the pains to fit me for the block.—

[Drawing the lining of his tunic lower.

Damon, I do forgive thee!-I but ask

Some tears unto my ashes!-

[A shout is heard-Pythias leaps up on the scaffold. By the gods,

[A shout.

A horse, and horseman!-Far upon the hill
They wave their hats, and he returns it—yet
I know him not-his horse is at the stretch.
Why should they shout as he comes on? It is-
No!-that was too unlike-but there now-there!
O life! I scarcely dare to wish for thee,

And yet that jutting rock has hid him from me-
No!-let it not be Damon!-he has a wife
And child!-Gods! keep him back!

Damon. [Without] Where is he?

Ha!

[He rushes in, and stands for a moment looking round.

He is alive! untouch'd! Ha! ha! ha!

[Falls with an hysterical laugh upon Pythias's shoulder.

[Loud shouts without.

Where am I? Have I fallen from my horse,

That I am stunn'd, and on my head I feel

A weight of thickening blood!-What has befallen me? The horrible confusion of a dream

Is yet upon my sight.-For mercy's sake,

Stay me not back-he is about to die!

Pythias, my friend!-Unloose me, villains, or You will find the might of madness in mine arm! [Sees Pythias.]

Speak to me, let me hear thy voice!

Pyth. My friend!

my

Damon. It pierced my brain, and rush'd into
There's lightning in it!—That's the scaffold—there
The block-the axe-the executioner!-
And here he lives!-I have him in my soul!
[Embraces Pythias.] Ha! ha! ha!

Pyth. Damon!

Damon. Ha! ha!

I can but laugh!-I cannot speak to thee!
I can but play the maniac, and laugh!

Thy hand!-Oh, let me grasp thy manly hand!—
Ha ha ha!

heart.

Pyth. Would that my death could have preserved thee!

Damon. Pythias,

Even in the very crisis to have come,―

To have hit the very forehead of old time!
By heavens! had I arrived an hour before,
I should not feel this agony of joy,-
This triumph over Dionysius!

Ha! ha!-But didst thou doubt me? Come, thou didst Own it, and I'll forgive.

Pyth. For a moment.

Damon. Oh that false slave!-Pythias, he slew my horse, In the base thought to save me!-I would have kill'd him, And to a precipice was dragging him,

When, from the very brink of the abyss,

I did behold a traveller afar,

Bestriding a good steed-I rush'd upon him,
Choking with desperation, and yet loud,
In shrieking anguish, I commanded him
Down from his saddle; he denied me-but
Would I then be denied? As hungry tigers
Clutch their poor prey, I sprung upon
his throat.
Thus, thus I had him, Pythias! "Come, your horse,
Your horse, your horse!" I cried. Ha! ha! ha!
Dion. [Advancing.] Damon! Damon!

Damon. I am here upon the scaffold! look at me;
I am standing on my throne; as proud a one
As yon illumined mountain, where the sun
Makes his last stand; let him look on me too;
He never did behold a spectacle

More full of natural glory.

Death is-Ha!

All Syracuse starts up upon her hills,

And lifts her hundred thousand hands! She shouts,
Hark, how she shouts! (Shouts heard.) O Dionysius,
When wert thou in thy life hail'd with a peal

Of hearts and hands like that one? Shout again!
Again, until the mountains echo you,

And the great sea joins in that mighty voice,
And old Enceladus, the son of earth,

Stirs in his mighty caverns. Tell me, slaves,
Where is your tyrant? Let me see him now;
Why stands he hence aloof? Where is your master?
What is become of Dionysius?

I would behold, and laugh at him.

[Dionysius advances between Damon and Pythias (Damon being on the scaffold), and throwing off his disguise,

Dion. Behold me!

Damon & Pyth. How!

Dion. Stay your admiration for a while,
Till I have spoken my commandment here.
Go, Damocles, and bid a herald cry

Wide through the city, from the eastern gate
Unto the most remote extremity,

That Dionysius, tyrant as he is,

Gives back his life to Damon.

Pyth. How, Dionysius! Speak that again.

Dion. I pardon him.

Pyth. O gods!

You give his life to Damon?

Dion. Life and freedom.

[Exit Damocles.

[Damon remains mute with astonishment upon the scaffold. Pyth. O Dionysius! O my sovereign! Life

And freedom! Let me fall down at your feet,

And open all the sluices of my heart,

In one wild gush of weeping gratitude!
O Damon!

[Damon still continues motionles

Dion. Almighty virtue,

Now do I own, and worship thee! I see
The glorious spark which the Eternal One
Struck from himself into the soul of man,
Blaze up in such excelling majesty,

It awes, while it illumes my heart. What hoa!
How, Damon, is it with thee? Come, descend!
Let me conduct thee from this place of death,
Into the bosom of your friend.-

Damon and Pythias,

You have rewarded me: I now begin

To taste of pleasures never touch'd before

Perfect the work you have begun the Heavens

With length of life, and lives of transport bless you!

Each day the happiest, and yet the next

Eclipsing that in all comparison!

Thus may the world have opportunity

To wonder at you, and grow

better by you!

And I myself, by the continued light
Of your example, may at last essay

To tread such wondrous ways of virtue with you!

Guido. FATHER!

Duke and Guido.

Duke. Lord Guido, I am told, you wish

An audience; is it so?
Guido. It is.

Duke. Speak on.

wrong, and pray relief,

If you have suffered

Why, you shall have it.

If have done wrong,

you

The church is open, and the gates of heaven

Wide for a true repenter.

Guido. Oh! my lord;

I beg you to cast off this garb

Duke. It is

The garb of justice; treat it with honour, sir,
As you may hope to thrive. Well!

Guido. Why is this?

Duke. Why!-Have you aught to ask? if so, speak on Guido. My lord, I know not how it is; but you,

Who (if I must speak truth) have wrong'd me much,

Assume the injured man.

You will not answer?-no?

Duke. Go on, go on.

What have I done?

I like your boldness,-not your spirit. Well!
Guido. What have I done, my lord?

Duke. What done!--but speak.

Guido. You think me traitor, as I hear; but surely I were a sorry knave, to plot against

The state which will be mine.

Duke. Be not too sure.

Proceed.

Guido. That's as you will, my lord:-but away with this. My lord, my lord! I ask you, can I be

The same in soul as when we fought at Mantua ?—
Together,-side by side? I hate to name it;

But, did I not-I ask you, did I not

Once do you a service?

Duke. Yes: I own to that.

You speak it doubtfully: you saved my life.

Pray, be not sparing. I can bear it all.

Guido. Have I deserved this, sir? Great Heaven!

Duke. Silence!

You have affronted Heaven; and the sad day,

Now dying, leaves a blush upon the face