The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 110

_Ulr._ You dream.

_Sieg._ I live! and as I live, I saw him-- Heard him! he dared to utter even my name.

_Ulr._ What name?

_Sieg._ Werner! _'twas_ mine.

_Ulr._ It must be so No more: forget it.

_Sieg._ Never! never! all My destinies were woven in that name: 90 It will not be engraved upon my tomb, But it may lead me there.

_Ulr._ To the point----the Hungarian?

_Sieg._ Listen!--The church was thronged: the hymn was raised; "_Te Deum_" pealed from nations rather than From choirs, in one great cry of "G.o.d be praised"

For one day's peace, after thrice ten dread years, Each bloodier than the former: I arose, With all the n.o.bles, and as I looked down Along the lines of lifted faces,--from Our bannered and escutcheoned gallery, I 100 Saw, like a flash of lightning (for I saw A moment and no more), what struck me sightless To all else--the Hungarian's face! I grew Sick; and when I recovered from the mist Which curled about my senses, and again Looked down, I saw him not. The thanksgiving Was over, and we marched back in procession.

_Ulr._ Continue.

_Sieg._ When we reached the Muldau's bridge, The joyous crowd above, the numberless Barks manned with revellers in their best garbs, 110 Which shot along the glancing tide below, The decorated street, the long array, The clas.h.i.+ng music, and the thundering Of far artillery, which seemed to bid A long and loud farewell to its great doings, The standards o'er me, and the tramplings round, The roar of rus.h.i.+ng thousands,--all--all could not Chase this man from my mind, although my senses No longer held him palpable.

_Ulr._ You saw him No more, then?

_Sieg._ I looked, as a dying soldier 120 Looks at a draught of water, for this man; But still I saw him not; but in his stead----

_Ulr._ What in his stead?

_Sieg._ My eye for ever fell Upon your dancing crest; the loftiest.

As on the loftiest and the loveliest head, It rose the highest of the stream of plumes, Which overflowed the glittering streets of Prague.

_Ulr._ What's this to the Hungarian?

_Sieg._ Much! for I Had almost then forgot him in my son; When just as the artillery ceased, and paused 130 The music, and the crowd embraced in lieu Of shouting, I heard in a deep, low voice, Distinct and keener far upon my ear Than the late cannon's volume, this word--"_Werner!_"

_Ulr._ Uttered by----

_Sieg._ HIM! I turned--and saw--and fell.

_Ulr._ And wherefore? Were you seen?

_Sieg._ The officious care Of those around me dragged me from the spot, Seeing my faintness, ignorant of the cause: You, too, were too remote in the procession (The old n.o.bles being divided from their children) 140 To aid me.

_Ulr._ But I'll aid you now.

_Sieg._ In what?

_Ulr._ In searching for this man, or----When he's found, What shall we do with him?

_Sieg._ I know not that.

_Ulr._ Then wherefore seek?

_Sieg._ Because I cannot rest Till he is found. His fate, and Stralenheim's, And ours, seem intertwisted! nor can be Unravelled, till----

_Enter an_ ATTENDANT.

_Atten._ A stranger to wait on Your Excellency.

_Sieg._ Who?

_Atten._ He gave no name.

_Sieg._ Admit him, ne'ertheless.

[_The_ ATTENDANT _introduces_ GABOR, _and afterwards exit_.

Ah!

_Gab._ 'Tis then Werner!

_Sieg._ (_haughtily_).

The same you knew, sir, by that name; and _you!_ 150

_Gab._ (_looking round_).

I recognise you both: father and son, It seems. Count, I have heard that you, or yours, Have lately been in search of me: I am here.

_Sieg._ I have sought you, and have found you: you are charged (Your own heart may inform you why) with such A crime as---- [_He pauses_.

_Gab._ Give it utterance, and then I'll meet the consequences.

_Sieg._ You shall do so-- Unless----

_Gab._ First, who accuses me?

_Sieg._ All things, If not all men: the universal rumour-- My own presence on the spot--the place--the time-- 160 And every speck of circ.u.mstance unite To fix the blot on you.

_Gab._ And on _me only?_ Pause ere you answer: is no other name, Save mine, stained in this business?

_Sieg._ Trifling villain!

Who play'st with thine own guilt! Of all that breathe Thou best dost know the innocence of him 'Gainst whom thy breath would blow thy b.l.o.o.d.y slander.

But I will talk no further with a wretch, Further than justice asks. Answer at once, And without quibbling, to my charge.

_Gab._ 'Tis false! 170

_Sieg._ Who says so?

_Gab._ I.

_Sieg._ And how disprove it?

_Gab._ By The presence of the murderer.