SCENE NINTH.
[_The castle terrace.
Enter_ Constantine.]
Con. The victory is ours, and Greece again is free, thanks to the gods, and to the brave unknown who led on my slaves, and saved us when all hope seemed gone. Who could have been the fearless stranger? Like an avenging spirit came the mysterious leader, carrying terror and destruction to the Turkish ranks. My brave troops rallied and we won the day. Yet when I sought him, he was gone, and none could tell me where.
He hath won my deepest gratitude, and the honor of all Greece for this brave deed.
But where is Ione? Why comes she not to bid me welcome home? Ah, could she know that thoughts of her gave courage to my heart, and strength to my weak arm, and led me on that I might be more worthy her! Ah, yonder comes the stranger; he may not think to see me here. I will step aside.
[Constantine _retires. Enter_ Ione _in armor, bearing sword._
Ione. The gods be thanked! the brave young prince hath conquered. From the flying Turk I won his banner back, and now my task is done. I must fling by this strange disguise and be myself again. I must bind up my wound and seek to rest, for I am faint and weary. Ah, what means this sudden dimness of mine eyes, this faintness--can it be death? 'T is welcome,--Constantine, it is for thee!
[Ione _faints_; Constantine _rushes in._
Con. Ione, Ione, look up and listen to the blessings of my grateful heart for all thou hast dared and done for me. So pale, so still! Ah, must she die now I have learned to love so fervently and well? Ione, awake!
[Ione _rouses._
Ione. Pardon this weakness; I will retire, my lord.
Con. Ah, do not leave me till I have poured out my gratitude. My country owes its liberty to thee: then let me here before thee offer up my country's thanks, and tell thee what my heart hath striven to hide. Dear Ione, listen, I do beseech thee! [_Kneels._]
Ione. My lord, remember Lady Irene.
Con. [_starting up_]. Why comes she thus between my happiness and me?
Why did she send thee hither? Thou hast made the chain that binds her to me heavier to be borne; the sorrow of my heart more bitter still. Nay, do not weep. I will be calm. Thou art pale and faint, Ione,--lean thus on me.
Ione. Nay, leave me; I cannot listen to thee. Go, I pray thee, go!
Con. Not till thou hast pardoned me. I have made thee weep, and every tear that falls reproaches me for my rash words. Forget them, and forgive me.
Ione. Ask not forgiveness of thy slave, my lord. 'Tis I who have offended. And think not thus of Lady Irene, who in her distant home hath cherished tender thoughts of one whom all so honored. Think of her grief when she shall find thee cold and careless, and shall learn that he who should most love and cherish, deems her but a burden, and hates the wife whom he hath vowed to wed. Ah, think of this, and smile no more upon the slave who may not listen to her lord.
Con. Thou art right, Ione. I will obey thee, and seek to hide my sorrow within my lonely breast. Teach me to love thy mistress as I ought, and I will sacrifice each selfish wish, and be more worthy thy forgiveness, and a little place within thy heart. Trust me, I will speak no more of my unhappy love, and will seek thee only when thine own voice bids me come.
The sunlight of thy presence is my truest joy, and banishment from thee the punishment my wilful heart deserves. Rest here, Ione, and weep for me no more. I am happy if thou wilt but smile again. Farewell, and may the gods forever bless thee! [_Kisses her robe, and rushes out._]
CURTAIN.
SCENE TENTH.
[_A gallery in the palace._ _Enter_ Ione _with flowers._]
Ione. How desolate and dreary all hath grown! The garden once so bright hath lost its beauty now, for Constantine no longer walks beside me. The palace rooms seem sad and lonely, for his voice no longer echoes there, and the music of his harp is never heard. His pale face haunts me through all my waking hours, and his mournful eyes look on me in my dreams. But soon his sorrow all shall cease, for nearer draws the day when Princess Irene comes to claim the heart so hardly won, and will by constancy and love so faithfully reward. Hark! I hear a step. It is Rienzi. How shall I escape,--my veil is in the garden! He knows me and will discover all. Stay! this curtain shall conceal me [_hides within the drapery_].
[_Enter_ Rienzi _stealthily._
Rienzi. How! not here? I told the messenger to meet me in the gallery that leads from the garden. Curses on him! he hath delayed, and were I discovered in this part of the palace, all might be betrayed. I'll wait, and if he comes not, I'll bear the message to the friends myself, and tell the bold conspirators we meet to-night near the haunted glen, to lay yet farther plans. We must rid the kingdom of the prince, who will be made ere long our king, for his bridal with the Princess Irene draws more near. But ere the royal crown shall rest upon his brow, that head shall be laid low. The queen will soon follow her young son, and then we'll seize the kingdom and rule it as we will. Hark! methought I heard a sound. I may be watched. I'll stay no longer, but seek the place myself [_steals out and disappears in the garden_].
[Ione _comes from her hiding-place._
Ione. Surely the gods have sent me to watch above thee, Constantine, and save thee from the danger that surrounds thee. I will haste to tell him all I have discovered. Yet, no! Rienzi may escape, and I can charge none other with the crime. They meet near the haunted glen, and not a slave would follow even his brave prince to that dark spot. How can I aid him to discover those who seek to do him harm? Stay! I will go alone. Once have I dared the dangers of the way to save thy life, Constantine; again I'll tread the fearful path, and watch the traitors at their evil work.
It shall be done! I will dare all, and fail not, falter not, till thou who art dearer to me than life itself art safe again.
[_Exit._
CURTAIN.
SCENE ELEVENTH.
[_A wood near the haunted glen._ Ione _shrouded in white glides in and conceals herself among the trees. Enter_ Rienzi.]
Rienzi [_looking fearfully about_]. 'Tis a wild and lonely spot, and 'tis said strange spirits have been seen to wander here. Why come they not? 'Tis past the hour, and I who stand undaunted when the fiercest battle rages round me, now tremble with strange fear in this dim spot.
Shame on thee, Rienzi, there is nought to fear [_opens a scroll and reads_]. Here are their names, all pledged to see the deed accomplished.
'Tis a goodly list and Constantine must fall when foes like these are round him. [Ione _appears within the glen._
Ha! methought I heard a sound! Nay, 'twas my foolish fancy. Spirits, I defy thee!
Ione. Beware! Beware!
Rienzi. Ye gods, what's that? It was a voice. [_Rushes wildly towards the glen, sees_ Ione, _drops scroll and dagger._] 'Tis a spirit! The gods preserve me, I will not stay! [_Exit in terror._]
[_Enter_ Ione.
Ione. Saved! saved! Here are the traitors' names, and here Rienzi's dagger to prove my story true. Now hence with all my speed, no time is to be lost! These to thee, Constantine, and joy unfailing to my own fond heart.
[_Exit_ Ione.
CURTAIN.
SCENE TWELFTH.
[_Apartment in the palace.
Enter_ Constantine.]
Con. This little garland of pale, withered flowers is all now left me of Ione, faded like my own bright hopes, broken like my own sad heart. Yet still I cherish it, for her dear hand wove the wreath, and her soft eyes smiled above the flowers as she twined them for my brow. Those happy days are passed; she comes no more, but leaves me sorrowing and alone.
And yet 'tis better so. The princess comes to claim my hand, and then 'twill be a sin to watch Ione, to follow her unseen, and listen to her voice when least she thinks me near. The gods give me strength to bear my trial worthily, and suffer silently the greatest sorrow life can give,--that of losing her [_leans sadly upon the harp_].
[_Enter_ Ione.
Ione. My lord--He does not hear me, how bitter and how deep must be his grief, when the voice that most he loves falls thus unheeded on his ear.
My lord--