To thee been harsh? And art thou not to me
My dear and only child? Thou call'st him noble,
And noble are his deeds. Bring him to me ;
And if he stands the proof, much good may follow:
Though of our house extinct, the spreading lands
Fall to imperial power, yet to support
A moderate lot, enough will still remain.
Ber. Oh! how shall I-&c.

(The ghost turns again, when at the door, and in a sepulchral tone, says,) Ances. Home! (Exit.

Count. (Falls back on his seat, as if thunderstruck,
and, after a pause, says,) Ha! what is that?
Have I been dreaming? Did I not behold
My daughter stand before me-hear the words
That were like death, and feel my blood run cold
At the dread ghostly look? And yet my daughter,
My gentle Bertha! Where art thou? Ho! Bertha ?
Enter Bertha and Gunther, the chamberlain.
Ber. (Rushing forward.) Dear father, what's
the matter?

Count. Art thou there?

What has disturb'd thee? Tell me, how is this,

The deliverance of Bertha from the hand of robbers, by this bold and beautiful youth, is described at great length -then the beginnings of their loveand last of all, the fears of the youth That thou unkindly, like a midnight spirit, and the maid that their love might not be approved by the haughty Count Borotin. "Though himself," says she,

Descended from a noble race, he bears

Their pride without their fortune-poor and needy
As he is now, I've heard him say, he fears
That the rich Borotin some other meed
Might for his daughter pay, but not herself.

and

Roam'st thro' the desolate hall, with strange demeanour,

To scare the life-worn sleeper?

Ber. I, my father?

Cou. Aye, thou! what? thou art ignorant, and yet Could'st fix thy staring corpse looks, even like daggers

In thine old father's heart!

Ber. My looks?

Count. Aye, thine!

Lift not thine eye-lids up so fearfully,

Stern-language has no word for such an aspect.
Look'st thou upon me now so soothingly,
To efface th' impression of that painful moment?
'Tis all in vain. Long as I live, to me
That frightful image will before me stand-
Even on my death-bed it will haunt me still.

There! so it was !-Yet no-more fix'd and stern!-

Look'st thou as mild as moonlight on a soft
And lovely evening landscape, yet I know,
At pleasure thou canʼst kill.

Ber. Alas! my father,

The Count relieves her fears, expresses his anxiety to see the youth. Bertha leaves him, and ascends the watch-tower to look out over the forest in case she may see her lover. The old count being left alone, falls into a slumber. The clock strikes eight. At the last stroke the lights are extinguished. A blast of wind rushes into the apartment-the storm is heard roaring without, and, after an extraordinary rustling noise, there appears, close by the chair of the old man, the spirit of the Ancestress. Her features and form closely resemble those of Bertha, but Thou wert here present. she wears a long white funeral veil, and ber eyes have the cold fixed stare of death. She bends over the Count with an expression of inexpressible sorrow and commiseration. The Count (disturbed in his sleep) exclaims,

Count. Away-away-begone! (He awakes.)
Ha! art thou there,

My Bertha-nay, it was a fearful dream,
That rous'd mine inward senses. Take again
The harp, my daughter!-Music will revive me.
(The spectre has raised itself again, and stares at
the Count with eyes wide open.)

Count. (terrified.) Why dost thou stare so horri

What have I done to move thee thus ? why scola
My guiltless eyes that anxiously in search
Of thine, with tears of sorrow now are filled,
That I left thee asleep, and thoughtlessly

Went forth awhile.

Count. Went forth? Not so! because

Ber. I?

Count. Nay, did'st thou not

Through my defenceles bosom?
Stand in that place, shooting thy dead cold arrows

Ber. While you slept ?

Count. Just now; 'tis but a moment since.
Ber. In truth,

I came now from the balcony. When sleep
Had seized you, I went longing out to try
If I could meet with Jaromir.

Count. For shame!
Girl! dost thou mock me?
Ber. Mock thee? I, my father?

The old Steward of the family, who has entered the apartment, confirms the statement of Bertha-and after a pause -he ventures to say, that the superstition of the neighbourhood represents the shade of the Ancestress, as loving to appear in the very form described by the Count-adding, that whoever looks on her picture, which is preserved in this very hall, must be convinced the

Ancestress resembled Bertha in feature
no less than in name. Bertha before
this has laboured to believe her father
had only seen a dream-but adds she-

And yet 'twas only yesterday, my father,
I went by twilight thro' the ancestral hall.
Midway, there hangs a mirror, half obscur'd,
And full of stains. Yet there I stood a-while,
At the dim glass to arrange my dress. Just then,
When I had put both hands down to my sash,
(There, father, you will laugh at me, and I
Myself must laugh at mine own childish fear ;
Though at the moment only with chill horror,
Could I behold that image so distorted;)
When, as I said, both hands I had applied
To tie my sash, then in the glass my shadow
Most unaccountably appeared with arms

Raised to its head; and, with a chilling horror,

In the dark mirror I beheld my features

repose had been gained; yet shuddering and lamenting, with the feelings of a mother, over the sufferings that come upon her children. There is something too awful to be dwelt upon, in this deep and thrilling dream of superstition-but surely there is poetry enough in it, to redeem every fault it may be charged with.

The Count and his daughter retire; —and after a pause, Jaromir, her lover,~ rushes panting into the hall, a broken sword all bloody in his hand-the Steward follows him, and learns that he has just been assaulted by a band of robbers in the forest, and with difficulty escaped. Upon this, the Count and

Frightfully chang'd ; the same, and yet how different his daughter return, and Borotin is in

Holding even such resemblance to myself

As one in health to her own lifeless corse.
Wide staring were its eyes, at me directed;
And its gaunt bony fingers seem'd to point
Some fearful warning!

Gun. Wo! the Ancestress!

Count. (As if struck by some terrible and sudden idea, and springing up.) The Ancestress!

Ber. (Surprised.) What said'st thou ?

Gun. Have you not,

My noble lady, in that hall beheld

Her portrait, which to see, bears that resemblance

It seems as if yourself, in life and health,

Had to the painter sat?

Ber. Oft times I've seen it,

Not without wonder; and to me it was
The dearer for that likeness.

Gun. Then you know not

The legend that has gone from tongue to tongue ?

In

The legend is, that this Bertha of a former age, was the wife of the Lord Borotin; and being detected in adultery, was slain by the dagger of her husband: The husband, however, did not suspect that his son was the issue of sinful love; and his lands and his name descended to a bastard-from whom the present noble race are sprung. memory of this domestic tragedy, the dagger by which the lady had fallen, is still hung by the wall of the apartment in which they are assembled: while the troubled spectre itself is compelled to wander about the scenes of her former guilt, till the last of the race that has through her deceit become possessed of the honours of the house of Borotin, shall have died. Whenever any accident of misery or death is about to befall that house, the spectre becomes visible -rejoicing that a step towards her own

formed by the mode of their address, that he sees before him the deliverer of Bertha. The Count immediately proclaims his gratitude and his approbation of their love.

Jar. I stand astonished and ashamed.

Jar. What, has all hell broke loose, and all on me
Alone its malice pour'd? Dire grinning ghosts
I see before..upon me...all around;
And terror, as with vampire throat, sucks out
The life-blood from my veins; and from my brain
The marrow of right reason. Oh ! that I
Had never enter'd here! Upon the threshold,
An angel stood and welcom'd me. Within
́All hell is lodged. Yet, whither have I stray'd,
By inward anguish driven? Is this not still
That honourable hall, that when I came,
Received me? All is silent, for the sake

Of those who sleep. Silent what if they knew
My strange disorder? Ha! what sounds are these?

(Listening at the door of Bertha's apartment.) Sweet tones! I know them well, and fain would

drink

Those accents on the lips that gave them birth.
Listen! Ha! words she prays, perchance for me;
Pure spirit, now I thank thee!

(Listening again.)“ Heavenly powers!
Assist us!" Aye, indeed; assist us, heaven!
"And save us!" From my heart I join the prayer,
Save us! Oh! from myself may Heaven protect me!
Thou sweet pure being, I can stay no longer;
I must from hence, and fly to her; fall down
Prostrate, and in her sacred presence gain
Freedom and peace from Heaven. Aye, she, indeed,
O'er such a visitant may offer up

Her orisons as o'er a lifeless frame ;

And, from the influence of her breath, shall I
Rise consecrated. (He approaches the door. It
opens, and the Ancestress appears, with both her
hands making signs to him to retire.) Ha! thou
lovely one,

And art thou here?

'Tis I, dear Bertha, frown not, Repel me not by these cold looks, but grant That I may once again enjoy the rapture, Leaning on thy pure angel breast to draw From the blue heaven of those unclouded eyes, Quiet and consolation.

(The ghost steps forward from the door, which closes behind her, and repeats the same gestures.)

Must I go?
Nay, but I cannot, cannot while I view thee
So ravishing before my raptur'd sight,
All round thee seems enchanted ground. I feel
That on ny bosom's gloom new splendour dawns,
Visions that long have slept, once more awake,
In all their glory. Could'st thou see me suffer?
Shall I before thee perish? Let my voice
In supplication move thee. Let me follow
Into thy chamber. Can true love deny
What love requests?

(Going towards her.) Ha! Bertha, my own Ber

tha!

Ber. Dear Jaromir, what is it?

What moves thee thus? And why towards that dark corner

Look'st thou so wildly?

Jar. (Stepping back.) Here and there, how's this?
Nowhere and every where?

Ber. Good Heavens ! explain!
What are you thus ?

Jar. By Heaven, I am a man ;

And “What man dares I dare!" Even let the devil
Appear against me! Count, if in my pulse
Can be perceived the irregular throbs of fear;
Yet must he come alone, and openly,
And in his proper shape--nor thus enlist
In my wild fancy and distemper'd brain,
Whole troops of his auxiliaries against me.
Comes he like some huge giant, clad in steel
From top to toe, and gifted with the powers
Of darkness, or surrounded by an halo
Of light from hell, I will deride his rage,
And boldly hurl defiance in his teeth:
Or comes he as a lion of the woods,
I shall resist him without apprehension,
Will meet his fiery eyes with looks as fierce,
Grapple for grapple-equal unto equal;
But let him not employ the finest art

Of hell, that cunning and deceitful, rouses

One's own internal powers against himself.
Ber. (Hastening towards him.) My Jaromir?
Dear Jaromir!

Jar. (Stepping back.) Away!

I know thee, beauteous form--Should I approach,
Thou would'st dissolve into thin air, my breath
Would thee annihilate.

Ber. (Embracing him.) Nay, could a phantom
Embrace thee thus; or could a wandering shadow
Thus look upon thee? Feel, it is thy Bertha
That lies within thine arms.

Jar. 'Tis so, indeed.

I feel thy warm heart beating, and thy breath
Fanning my temples.

The Count comes in while they are yet talking in this manner, and having heard the cause of the noise that has disturbed him-he utters these words too full of meaning:

Ha! so they begin
Already to acknowledge him for mine!
In realms of darkness is it known so soon?

The alarm that has occurred, renders the whole party unwilling to return to their own apartments, and they remain conversing in the hall, when suddenly there is heard a loud knocking at the gate of the castle, and Jaromir betrays a perturbation that astonishes Bertha. He reassures her, however, and the Steward introduces a captain, who, as

it

band of robbers in the forest-the band appears, has been engaged with a has been vanquished, and he has traced the last relics to the neighbourhood of

the castle. Borotin makes the officer welcome to his castle, and all the aid he can give him, and introduces to him Bertha as his daughter. The officer seems to regard Jaromir with a strange kind of expression, but is told he is the son-in-law of the Count, and his suspicions are at an end. He proceeds to describe the ravages committed by these banditti, and expresses his regret that so many of them should have fallen by a death too noble for their deserts The dialogue is very animated here;

Capt. No, no! the wheel-the block should be their

doom.

Ber. Nay, nay-this is too cruel; when thou judgest Thy fellow men, still shew humanity.

Capt. Nay,lady, had thou seen what I have witnessed,

Thou would'st close up thy heart, and bar its gates
(As to an insolent beggar) on compassion.
Those smoking ruins, rendered visible

By their own flames; old men in terror trembling,
Women lamenting, children left to weep
On a dead mother's bosom; all around
A devastated waste. Hadst thou seen this!
And then to think this havoc all was caused
By the vile thirst of gold, the avarice

Of a few miscreants, who

he himself had so lately undergone; and the youth returns to his chamber at the same moment when the soldiers issue again from the castle to continue their pursuit. Before he goes, Bertha binds her blue scarf around his arm, as a token of their acknowledged and approved love.

Bertha meantime, and the old Steward, gaze on the operations of the soldiers from the window of the hall-for the robbers are suspected to be lurking somewhere in the ruinous part of the edifice, and the torches they bear give visible. A cry is heard, and a rushing light enough to make their movements towards a particular corner-one of the pursuing party is seen lying wounded on the ground, but it appears the robber has still succeeded in making his escape. In an instant after, Jaromir rushes again into the hall--his scarf is torn and bloody -and Bertha cannot account for the new terrors that are painted on his face. But it is needless to give the details of a discovery which is already foreseen by the reader. One of the soldiers comes

Jar. (Stepping forward and seizing him.) This in to inform Bertha, that her father has

lovely being,

Whose inward soul, like a fine mirror, shews

All nature smiling, all the world at rest,

Because herself is pure and innocent,

Why would'st thou trouble thus? Why strive to blot
That mirror with the poison of revenge,
The breath of hatred? Let her still enjoy
The sweetness of compassion! In the fallen,
Still recognise a brother in distress-
Forsooth, it well becomes the broken reed
To scorn the shatter'd oak!

Capt. Nay, let the wood

So shatter'd straight be cast into the fire!

Jar. A sharp judge with the tongue thou art. Perchance

Thine arm in action may not be so rapid!

Capt. Ha! how am I to understand these words?
Jar. Even take them, sir, as I have given them to

you.

Capt. Were it not in this place

Jar. Aye-very true.

Elsewhere,perchance,thy conduct were more guarded.
Capt. Warmly, I see, thou would'st defend these
robbers.

Jar. Whoe'er is in distress shall gain my heart.
Capt. The best among them, let him come, and 1-
Jar. Call him aloud! Perchance he will appear!

An end is put to this untimely altercation by the old Count-who insists on attending the captain in person, during his pursuit of the remaining banditti-the agitations-the reluctance and the bitterness of Jaromir, are all accounted for by the fatigues and terrors

been wounded, and it is no longer to be concealed that Jaromir has had his part in the scene that has just been going on without the castle. Jaromir, as Bertha begins already to suspect, is a robber; and the moment her suspicion is hinted the youth speaks thus:

Jar. Ha! well then !...all is past...the thunderbolt
Has struck at last, wherewith the skies so long
Were loaded, and I freely breathe again!
Although I feel the stroke, and feel that all
My hopes are gone...'tis well now all is past!
That bond must now be broken...that delusion
Must all dissolve. And shall I tremble thus,
To bear the name of that which, without shrinking,
I have been in reality? No more
Need I deceive. Farewell, ye fine-spun falsehoods,
Ye never were my choice. That which I bore
Deep in my heart, and yet from her conceal'd...
That prov'd my bitterest sorrow!... Well! the lightning
Has struck at last...the storm is over now.
Freely I may speak out whate'er my heart
Feels inwardly. My soul is free again!
-Unhappy Bertha! yes, I am the man

Whom thou hast named whom officers pursue...
He whom all tongues have curs'd... whose name is placed
Next to the devil, when the peasant says
His litany at evening-whom the father

Holds as a dread example to his children,
In whispers warning them," Beware of sin,
Lest it should lead you on to be like him!"
Aye, I am he, unhappy girl, well known
To wood and wold, whom murderers hail as brother...

I am the robber Jaromir!

Ber. Wo! wo!

Jar. And art thou trembling, Bertha? Can a name
Thus fill thee with affright? Oh! be not thus
So soon beguil❜d. That part which even to hear
Has thus alarm'd thee, I too oft have play'd

In very deed. These eyes, which thou hast lov'd,
Have been the horror of the traveller.
This voice, to thee so soothing, has assisted
The robber's arm, and with terrific tone
Unmann'd the victim, till that arm had struck.
Nay, even this hand, which rested oft in thine,
With innocent blood has been defil'd!

Look not

So doubtfully, sweet being !-Aye, 'tis true!
I am the man! Because mine eyes are fill'd
With tears, mine arms hang powerless, and my voice
Is faultering now-think'st thou that I am not?
Alas! the robber has his hours of pain,
When the full sense of his dire fate awakes,
And forces this emotion. Bertha ! Bertha !
'Tis true indeed that he whose tearful eyes
Now search in vain to meet the gleams of thine,
Is Jaromir the robber!

Ber. Oh, heavens! Away!

Jar. Aye, thou art in the right ! almost had I
Forgotten what I am-No more of this!
Cowardly tears, no more!—And shall a robber
Presume to indulge in feelings like to those
Of other mortals? Shall the precious dew
Of tears be granted to his burning eyes?
Away!-Cast out from brotherhood of men,
To thee be every solace too denied!
Despair and hatred only be thy portion !—
How with myself I may have fought, and striven,
And suffered,-this, my worldly judges, ask not !—
Before their bloody bar, all inward proofs
Of guilt or innocence are disregarded-
Deeds only will they judge. Now, if your wrath,
Wise lords, have sealed my sentence, I shall mount
With a light step the scaffold; and to thee
My voice will call aloud, Almighty Power!—
In mercy thou wilt hear my prayer. To thee,
Whate'er my wounded bosom bears in secret
Freely I shall unfold. Oh! righteous Heaven!
Thou wilt in mercy judge, nor utterly
Destroy the heart that with keen anguish throbs,
And deep repentance.

Born and bred up with robbers-of their deeds
Involuntary witness-unacquainted
With every better school-debarr'd the rights
Of property, the sweets of social life,

The wealth of learning, and religion's aid-
The robber's son-wilt thou, Eternal Judge,
Condemn, because he turn'd a robber too,-
Thus imitating those whom he held dear-
Led on to crime even by a father's hand?
Thou know'st how, at his wakening from the dream
Of childhood, he beheld his lot with terror.
He wished to fly, and tried to find a path
For his escape-Oh, Heaven!--but found it not.
Thou know'st how, since the hour when first I met
Her who has now accused me, I renounc'd
My wild pursuits!-Thou know'st-but wherefore thus
Prolong my words?-Even tho' my heart is broken,
She hears me not, but bars the gates on pity.
Thou, Everlasting Light, know'st all my suffering:
She unrelenting hears not, but remains
Turn'd coldly from me. Well, then, be it so !
Now all is ended. I no more regard

How soon my blood shall dye the scaffold now:
For she already has my death accomplished.
Now Justice raise thine arm--I smile at thee!

(He is rushing out, when Bertha starts up, and re: cals him.

Ber. Oh, Jaromir, stay--stay--

Jar. What do I hear?

My Bertha's looks are turn'd on me again!
Her voice recals me, and on golden wings

Brings back my life. (He hastens to her.) My Bertha
--my own Bertha !

Ber. Leave me!

Jar. No I will leave thee not again!
Ah! shall the miserable man, almost

From shipwreck saved, driven on the watery waste,
Forsake the land that sweetly shone to meet him?
Receive me Oh, receive me! All that yet
Remains of life's past influences--save this,
My love for thee alone--I cast away,
Back to the stormy waves. As a new being,
Pure as in infancy, I kneel before thee,
To learn and to repent!--Oh! rescue me-
Save me!-Oh, rule me as a parent rules
An unresisting child; so that my feet
May stumble not in the new world unknown!
Teach me to tread thy paths-at last to obtain
Tranquillity and joy. Teach me to hope,
To pray, even to be holy, like thyself.

My Bertha !-and shall never more one look
Be turn'd upon your weeping supplicant?
Be not severer than the Heavenly Judge,
Who, mid the sinner's last repentant hours,
Refuses not the splendour of his sunbeams,
Even on the scaffold-Ha! I feel this trembling!
Yes, thou art mine again-my own beloved
Bertha ! wife! angel!-Let this earth decay;
I have already here secured my heaven!

The plot now thickens fearfully. Jaromir parts from Bertha on the conclusion of this most affecting dialogue (of which we have only given a specimen.) She knows him to be a robber, but her love forgives every thing to the offender of fate and circumstance; she still adheres to the troth she had plighted; and promises to meet her lover, at midnight, at a particular window in the ruinous part of the castle-tbence to fly with him for ever, and link all the residue of her fate with his. At the moment when the youthful pair join hands in token of their confirmed engagement, the Ancestress appears in the back ground, wringing her hands behind them, and pointing to the ground with a woful sternness. Jaromir has no arms; and seeing a dagger hanging by the wall, he takes it down. "Take it not," says Bertha, "it is the dagger by which the guilty Ancestress of the Borotins perished--it is of evil omen." At the moment when he grasps the weapon, the Ancestress disappears, folding her ghast