The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 99

_Wer._ It is a d.a.m.ned world, sir.

_Gab._ So is the nearest of the two next, as The priests say (and no doubt they should know best), Therefore I'll stick by this--as being both To suffer martyrdom, at least with such An epitaph as larceny upon my tomb.

It is but a night's lodging which I crave; To-morrow I will try the waters, as The dove did--trusting that they have abated. 50

_Wer._ Abated? Is there hope of that?

_Gab._ There was At noontide.

_Wer._ Then we may be safe.

_Gab._ Are _you_ In peril?

_Wer._ Poverty is ever so.

_Gab._ That I know by long practice. Will you not Promise to make mine less?

_Wer._ Your poverty?

_Gab._ No--you don't look a leech for that disorder; I meant my peril only: you've a roof, And I have none; I merely seek a covert.

_Wer._ Rightly; for how should such a wretch as I Have gold?

_Gab._ Scarce honestly, to say the truth on't, 60 Although I almost wish you had the Baron's.

_Wer._ Dare you insinuate?

_Gab._ What?

_Wer._ Are you aware To whom you speak?

_Gab._ No; and I am not used Greatly to care. (_A noise heard without_.) But hark! they come!

_Wer._ Who come?

_Gab._ The Intendant and his man-hounds after me: I'd face them--but it were in vain to expect Justice at hands like theirs. Where shall I go?

But show me any place. I do a.s.sure you, If there be faith in man, I am most guiltless: Think if it were your own case!

_Wer._ (_aside_). Oh, just G.o.d! 70 Thy h.e.l.l is not hereafter! Am I dust still?

_Gab._ I see you're moved; and it shows well in you: I may live to requite it.

_Wer._ Are you not A spy of Stralenheim's?

_Gab._ Not I! and if I were, what is there to espy in you?

Although, I recollect, his frequent question About you and your spouse might lead to some Suspicion; but you best know--what--and why.

I am his deadliest foe.

_Wer._ _You?_

_Gab._ After such A treatment for the service which in part 80 I rendered him, I am his enemy: If you are not his friend you will a.s.sist me.

_Wer._ I will.

_Gab._ But how?

_Wer._ (_showing the panel_). There is a secret spring: Remember, I discovered it by chance, And used it but for safety.

_Gab._ Open it, And I will use it for the same.

_Wer._ I found it, As I have said: it leads through winding walls, (So thick as to bear paths within their ribs, Yet lose no jot of strength or stateliness,) And hollow cells, and obscure niches, to 90 I know not whither; you must not advance: Give me your word.

_Gab._ It is unecessary: How should I make my way in darkness through A Gothic labyrinth of unknown windings?

_Wer._ Yes, but who knows to what place it may lead?

_I_ know not--(mark you!)--but who knows it might not Lead even into the chamber of your foe?

So strangely were contrived these galleries By our Teutonic fathers in old days, When man built less against the elements 100 Than his next neighbour. You must not advance Beyond the two first windings; if you do (Albeit I never pa.s.sed them,) I'll not answer For what you may be led to.

_Gab._ But I will.

A thousand thanks!

_Wer._ You'll find the spring more obvious On the other side; and, when you would return, It yields to the least touch.

_Gab._ I'll in--farewell!

[GABOR _goes in by the secret panel_.

_Wer._ (_solus_). What have I done? Alas! what _had_ I done Before to make this fearful? Let it be Still some atonement that I save the man, 110 Whose sacrifice had saved perhaps my own-- They come! to seek elsewhere what is before them!

_Enter_ IDENSTEIN _and Others_.

_Iden._ Is he not here? He must have vanished then Through the dim Gothic gla.s.s by pious aid Of pictured saints upon the red and yellow Cas.e.m.e.nts, through which the sunset streams like sunrise On long pearl-coloured beards and crimson crosses.

And gilded crosiers, and crossed arms, and cowls, And helms, and twisted armour, and long swords, All the fantastic furniture of windows 120 Dim with brave knights and holy hermits, whose Likeness and fame alike rest in some panes Of crystal, which each rattling wind proclaims As frail as any other life or glory.

He's gone, however.

_Wer._ Whom do you seek?

_Iden._ A villain.

_Wer._ Why need you come so far, then?

_Iden._ In the search Of him who robbed the Baron.

_Wer._ Are you sure You have divined the man?

_Iden._ As sure as you Stand there: but where's he gone?

_Wer._ Who?

_Iden._ He we sought.