And the fulfilment of it, doth beseem

God only, the immutable!

offence?

Rail you against me? What is my
The empire from a fearful enemy
Have I deliver❜d, and expect reward.
The single difference betwixt you and me
Is this you plac'd the arrow in the bow;

I pull❜d the string. You sow'd blood, and yet stand
Astonish'd that blood is come up. I always
Knew what I did, and therefore no result
Hath power to frighten or surprise my spirit;
Have you aught else to order; for this instant
I make my best speed to Vienna; place
My bleeding sword before my Emperor's throne,
And hope to gain the applause which undelaying
And punctual obedience may demand
From a just judge.

[Exit Butler.

SCENE X.

To these enter the COUNTESS TERSTKY, pale and disordered. Her utterance is slow and feeble, and unimpassion❜d.

Oct. (meeting her). O Countess Tertsky! These are results

Of luckless unblest deeds.

Coun.
They are the fruits
Of your contrivances. The Duke is dead,
My husband too is dead, the Duchess struggles
In the pangs of death, my niece has disappear'd.
This house of splendour, and of princely glory,
Doth now stand desolated: the affrighted servants

Rush forth thro' all its doors.

I am the last

Therein; I shut it up, and here deliver

The keys.

Oct. (with deep anguish).

my house too is desolate.

O Countess !

Coun. Who next is to be murder'd? Who is next

To be maltreated? Lo! the Duke is dead.

The Emperor's vengeance may be pacified!
Spare the old servants; let not their fidelity
Be imputed to the faithful as a crime-
The evil destiny surpris'd my brother
Too suddenly; he could not think on them.
Oct. Speak not of vengeance! Speak not of
maltreatment!

The Emp'ror is appeas'd; the heavy fault
Hath heavily been expiated-nothing
Descended from the father to the daughter,
Except his glory and his services.

The Empress honours your adversity,
Takes part in your afflictions, opens to you

Her motherly arms! Therefore no farther fears!

Yield yourself up in hope and confidence

To the Imperial grace!

Coun. (with her eye rais'd to heaven). To the grace and mercy of a greater Master

Do I yield up myself.-Where shall the body
Of the Duke have its place of final rest?
In the Chartreuse, which he himself did found
At Gitschen, rests the Countess Wallenstein;
And by her side, to whom he was indebted
For his first fortunes, gratefully he wish'd
He might sometime repose in death; O let him
Be buried there. And likewise, for my husband's
Remains, I ask the like grace. The Emperor
Is now proprietor of all our castles,

This sure may well be granted us—one sepulchre
Beside the sepulchres of our forefathers!

Oct. Countess, you tremble, you turn pale!

Coun. (reassembles all her powers, and speaks with energy and dignity). You think

More worthily of me, than to believe

I would survive the downfall of my house.
We did not hold ourselves too mean, to grasp
After a monarch's crown-the crown did Fate
Deny, but not the feeling and the spirit
That to the crown belong! We deem a
Courageous death more worthy of our free station
Than a dishonour'd life.-I have taken poison.
Oct. Help! Help! Support her!

Coun.

In a few moments is my fate accomplish'd.

Nay, it is too late,

[Exit Countess.

Gor. O house of death and horrors !

[An officer enters, and brings a letter with the great seal.

Gor. (steps forward and meets him). What is this? It is the Imperial seal.

[He reads the address and delivers the letter to Octavio with a look of reproach, and with an emphasis on the word.

To the Prince Piccolomini.

Oct. (with his whole frame expressive of sudden anguish, raises his eyes to heaven.

The Curtain drops.

ACCEPT, as a small testimony of my grateful attachment, the following Dramatic Poem, in which I have endeavoured to detail, in an interesting form, the fall of a man, whose great bad actions have cast a disastrous lustre on his name. In the execution of the work, as intricacy of plot could not have been attempted without a gross violation of recent facts, it has been my sole aim to imitate the impassioned and highly figurative language of the French Orators, and to develop the characters of the chief actors on a vast stage of horrors.

Yours fraternally,

JESUS COLLEGE, September 22, 1794,

S. T. COLERIDGE.

THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE.

ACT I.

SCENE, The Tuilleries.

Barrere. The tempest gathers-be it mine to seek A friendly shelter, ere it bursts upon him. But where? and how? I fear the Tyrant's soul— Sudden in action, fertile in resource,

And rising awful 'mid impending ruins;

In splendour gloomy, as the midnight meteor,
That fearless thwarts the elemental war.
When last in secret conference we met,
He scowl'd upon me with suspicious rage,
Making his eye the inmate of my bosom.
I know he scorns me-and I feel, I hate him-
Yet there is in him that which makes me tremble!

Enter TALLIEN and LEGENDRE.

[Exit.

Tal. It was Barrere, Legendre! didst thou mark

him?

Abrupt he turn'd, yet linger'd as he went,

And towards us cast a look of doubtful meaning.

Leg. I mark'd him well. I met his eye's last glance, It menaced not so proudly as of yore.

Methought he would have spoke-but that he dared

not

Such agitation darken'd on his brow.