SCENE I

A savage wood. At one side a cavern, overhung with ivy. ZAPOLYA and RAAB KIUPRILI discovered: both, but especially the latter, in rude and savage garments.

Raab Kiuprili. Heard you then aught while I was slumbering?

Zapolya. Nothing. Only your face became convulsed. We miserable! Is heaven's last mercy fled? Is sleep grown treacherous?

Raab Kiuprili. O for a sleep, for sleep itself to rest in! I dream'd I had met with food beneath a tree, And I was seeking you, when all at once My feet became entangled in a net: Still more entangled as in rage I tore it. At length I freed myself, had sight of you, But as I hastened eagerly, again I found my frame encumbered: a huge serpent Twined round my chest, but tightest round my throat.

Zapolya. Alas! 'twas lack of food: for hunger chokes!

Raab Kiuprili. And now I saw you by a shrivelled child Strangely pursued. You did not fly, yet neither Touched you the ground, methought, but close above it Did seem to shoot yourself along the air, And as you passed me, turned your face and shrieked.

Zapolya. I did in truth send forth a feeble shriek, Scarce knowing why. Perhaps the mock'd sense craved To hear the scream, which you but seemed to utter. For your whole face looked like a mask of torture! Yet a child's image doth indeed pursue me Shrivelled with toil and penury!

Raab Kiuprili. Nay! what ails you?

Zapolya. A wondrous faintness there comes stealing o'er me. Is it Death's lengthening shadow, who comes onward, Life's setting sun behind him?

Raab Kiuprili. Cheerly! The dusk Will quickly shroud us. Ere the moon be up, Trust me I'll bring thee food!

Zapolya. Hunger's tooth has Gnawn itself blunt. O, I could queen it well O'er my own sorrows as my rightful subjects. But wherefore, O revered Kiuprili! wherefore Did my importunate prayers, my hopes and fancies, Force thee from thy secure though sad retreat? Would that my tongue had then cloven to my mouth! But Heaven is just! With tears I conquered thee, And not a tear is left me to repent with! Had'st thou not done already--had'st thou not Suffered--oh, more than e'er man feigned of friendship?

Raab Kiuprili. Yet be thou comforted! What! had'st thou faith When I turned back incredulous? 'Twas thy light That kindled mine. And shall it now go out, And leave thy soul in darkness? Yet look up, And think thou see'st thy sainted lord commissioned And on his way to aid us! Whence those late dreams, Which after such long interval of hopeless And silent resignation all at once Night after night commanded thy return Hither? and still presented in clear vision This wood as in a scene? this very cavern? Thou darest not doubt that Heaven's especial hand Worked in those signs. The hour of thy deliverance Is on the stroke:--for misery can not add Grief to thy griefs, or patience to thy sufferance!

Zapolya. Can not! Oh, what if thou wert taken from me? Nay, thou said'st well: for that and death were one. Life's grief is at its height indeed; the hard Necessity of this inhuman state Hath made our deeds inhuman as our vestments. Housed in this wild wood, with wild usages, Danger our guest, and famine at our portal-- Wolf-like to prowl in the shepherd's fold by night! At once for food and safety to affrighten The traveller from his road--

[GLYCINE is heard singing without.

Raab Kiuprili. Hark! heard you not A distant chaunt?