Ion. Oh, Father, heed not thy fears, thy doubts! Take thy liberty, believing it heaven-sent. No oath binds thee to Mohammed; thou art no rightful prisoner of war, – neither duty nor honor doth demand thy stay. Thy country calls, and Heaven doth point the way.
Cleon. 'Tis true; no oath doth bind me to the Turk, and yet to fly – My soldier's spirit doth ill brook such retreat.
Ion. Then stay not, my father, but whilst thou may, depart.
Cleon. Bright hopes call me hence. Life, love, fame, beckon me away.
Hassan. The promised hour hath well-nigh gone. Prepare, young Greek; we must away.
Ion. A moment more. [Exit Hassan.] Father, time wanes. Once more I do entreat thee, – go!
Cleon. Heaven grant I choose aright! Come Ion, we will forth together. [Ion folds the cloak about Cleon; gives him the ring.] Come, let us go.
Ion. Nay, but one can pass forth. Thou goest. I await the morning here.
Cleon. Then do I tarry also. Nay, Ion, I will not go hence without thee.
Ion. Then all is lost. Father, thy stay can nought avail me. It cannot save, and thou wilt but sacrifice thine own priceless life.
Cleon. Then fly with me; let me bear thee to thy mother. Alone, I will not go.
Ion. I cannot go; a vow doth bid me stay, – a vow that nought shall tempt me from the camp to-night; and when did a Greek e'er break his plighted word?
Cleon. If thine honor bid thee stay, thy father will not tempt thee hence; but he may stay and suffer with thee the fate of the faithful [throws off the mantle].
Ion. Oh, my father, do not cast from thee the priceless boon of liberty. Think of thy broken-hearted wife, thy faithful followers, thy unconquered foes; think, Father, of thy country calling on thee for deliverance. What were my worthless life weighed 'gainst her freedom. And what happier fate for a hero's son than for a hero's sake to fall!
Cleon. Thou true son of Greece! Mayst thou yet live to wield a sword for thine oppressed land, and gird with laurels that brow so worthy them.
Hassan. No longer may I stay: thine hour is past.
Ion. I come, – yet one moment more, good Hassan; it is my last. [Exit Hassan.] Once more, my father, do I entreat thee, – go. Thou dost forget a guardian spirit watcheth over me, and the power that led me hither may yet accomplish my deliverance. If nought else can move thee, for my sake go, and win for me that freedom mine honor doth now forbid me to seek. Break not my heart, nor let me plead in vain.
Cleon. My boy, for thy dear sake do I consent. I will earn thy deliverance bravely, as a soldier should; and thy dear image shall be to me the star that leads me on to victory.
Ion [joyfully]. Away! Hassan will guide thee past the guards. Then fly, – and Heaven guide thee, O my father! [Ion again shrouds Cleon in the mantle, concealing his chains in the thick folds.] Thus muffle thy tell-tale fetters, that no sound may whisper to the Turks there walks a Greek under the free heavens forth to freedom.
Cleon. My Ion, one last embrace! God grant 'tis not our last on earth! Bless thee, thou true young heart! Heaven guard thee!
Hassan. Art ready? We must depart. [Cleon bows his head and follows. Ion rushes after, looking from the tent.]
Ion. Saved! saved! The morning sun that was to shine upon his grave, will smile upon him far, far from foemen's power. And Mohammed, thinking to look upon a dying slave, shall waken to the sound of his victorious war-trump. Ion, thy mission is accomplished. Thou hast given a saviour to thy fatherland, and mayst fall thyself without a murmur [looks up thankfully; a loud noise without].
Abd. Where is the prisoner? Come forth!
Ion. I am here [comes forward].
Abd. Ha! – here is treason! Without there! – the prisoner hath escaped!
Murad. Who flieth yonder, past the camp?
Abd. 'Tis he! Forth, call for aid! Search without delay! Here is foul work abroad. First, seize yon boy; fetter the base spy; bear him before the king. Speed hence!
Murad [to Ion]. Infidel dog, thou shalt learn what it is to brave Mohammed's ire!
[They seize Ion, and drag him away.]
BIANCA:
an
OPERATIC TRAGEDY
The peculiarity of this opera was that while the words were committed to memory, the music was composed and sung as the scene proceeded.
In spite of its absurdity, this play was a great favorite; for Jo was truly superb as the hapless Bianca, while her trills and tragic agonies were considered worthy of the famous Grisi herself.
CHARACTERS
Adelbert Betrothed to Bianca.
Huon His Rival.
Juan A Page.
Bianca A Spanish Lady.
Hilda A Witch.
BIANCA:
an
OPERATIC TRAGEDY
SCENE FIRST
Huon. Hist! All is still. They are not yet here. On this spot will the happy lovers meet. O wretched Huon! she whom thou so passionately doth love will here speak tender words to thy thrice hated rival. Yet I, unseen, will watch them, and ere long my fierce revenge shall change their joy to deepest woe. Hark! they come! Now, jealous heart, be still! [Hides among the trees.]
Adel. Nay, dearest love, fear not; no mortal eye beholds us now, and yon bright moon looks kindly down upon our love.
Bianca. Ah, dearest Adelbert, with thee I feel no fear, but thy fierce rival Huon did vow vengeance on thee, for I did reject his suit for thine. Beware! for his wild heart can feel no pity, tenderness, or love.
Adel. I fear him not. Ere long thou wilt be mine, and then in our fair home we will forget all but our love. Think not, dearest, of that dark, revengeful man; he does not truly love thee.
Bianca. Near thee I cannot fear; but when thou art far from me, my fond heart will ever dread some danger for thee. Ah, see the moon is waning; dear love, thou must away.
Adel. Ah, sweet moments, why so quickly fled? 'Tis hard to leave thee, thou bright star in my life's sky, and yet I must, or all may be betrayed. Fare thee well, dear love. One sweet kiss ere we part! [They embrace.]
Bianca. Farewell! Ah, when shall I again behold thee? Oh, be not long away, for like a caged bird I pine for thee.
Adel. When next yon moon doth rise beneath thy lattice, thou shalt hear my light guitar.
Bianca. Fail not to come. I shall watch for thee the live-long night, and if thou comest not, this fond heart will grieve.
Both. Farewell, till yon bright moon doth rise,
Bianca. Ah, love, thou magic power, thus ever make my breast thy home. Adieu, dear spot! I fly to happiness and —
Huon. Me– [Bianca shrieks, and seeks to fly. Huon detains her.]