i6a^
 
 % y'^^ 
 
 LI B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 v.l
 
 THE 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/manuscriptsoferd01step
 
 THE 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY, 
 
 a aaomance. 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE STEPHENS. 
 
 " A scholar's fancy, 
 A quab, 'tis nothing else — a very quab." 
 
 PoUD. 
 
 IX THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 SMITH, ELDER & CO., CORNHILL. 
 
 BOOKSELLERS TO THEIR MAJESTIES. 
 
 1835.
 
 PRINTED BY STEWART AND CO. 
 OLD BAILEY.
 
 X 
 
 «0 
 
 ?23 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 THE MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 S0LYMA>? THE MaGKIFICENT. 
 
 Cardinal Martinuzzi, Regent of Hungary. 
 
 Peter Pereny. 
 
 Vale>tinian Turascus, a lover of his country. 
 
 Balassi. 
 
 } 
 
 Grafs of Hun- 
 
 mIyl'a?* SQueen Isabella's party. j" gary 
 
 MiRCE. 
 
 Bathori, the friend of Maximilian Pereny. J 
 
 Maximilian Pereny, son of Peter, Count Pereny, and Nephew 
 
 of Martinuzzi. 
 Peter the Bloody, Prince of Moldavia. 
 
 w IwAN, Bichter of Wallachia. 
 
 ^5 Abu Obeida , Emir and Envoy from Turkey. 
 
 -^ Cast ALDo, Marquis of Piadena; Austrian xlmbassador. 
 
 ■»' Antoine Ferraro, his Secretary ] in love with the Lady Czerina, 
 
 1^ Count Rodna, an Exile. 
 
 \- SiGiSMUND, his reputed Grandson, and insane. 
 
 o Luke Swartz, Sigismund's Keeper. 
 
 - Father Dominick, Confessor to Martinuzzi. 
 
 — Scipio, Black Familiar of Father Dominick. 
 i-. Hubert Yicchy. 
 
 a Veronica, his Daughter. 
 
 K Count Ragotzy, alias Alaric Polgar, Brigand and Leader of 
 .N Gipsies. 
 
 •", Isabella, Queen Dowager of Hungary. 
 
 ^ CzERiNA, her Daughter, in Love with Ferraro. 
 
 ^4\ Unna, a Gipsy, and Mother of Count Ragotzy. 
 
 Scene, Transylvania. — Time, middle of the \6th Century.
 
 THE 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY
 
 THE 
 
 xMANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 'H Ttjc povXrjg irrxvg ^vxtj TToXtwg t(TTiv. 
 
 Libanius ; Orat. Parentatis, C. Ixxi. p. 96. 
 
 It is doubtful what was the original rank in life, and 
 what the parentage of the celebrated individual, who 
 will stand forward a principal agent in the following 
 narrative. 
 
 The birth of George Martinuzzi occurred, it is sup- 
 posed, in Croatia,* somewhere about the latter part of the 
 fifteenth century, and proved the advent of as fatal 
 calamities to his adopted country, as ever overwhelmed 
 the liberties of a gallant people. It is true that the con- 
 sequences of the fall of Presburg had been quickly re- 
 trieved by a peace with the Archduke Ferdinand, and 
 that any imaginary disgrace might be considered as ob- 
 literated in the brilliant affair, which happened shortly 
 
 * Martinusius ipse in literis ad Wrantium scriptis diserte ait se e 
 Croatia ortura. Apud Pray. Annal. P. v. page 271. 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 after, of two thousand cattle-keepers putting to route 
 the whole infidel force in the gorge of the Red Tower.* 
 But Rhodes, which had long held the Ottoman emperor 
 at bay, having at length submitted to his arms,t his 
 mind had leisure to revert to his ancient and fascinated 
 enemy. He fixed his basiliskan eye on the Magyar 
 nation, as on a prey. For awhile he seemed to hesitate ; 
 but a slight affront, which, in an evil hour, his represen- 
 tative received at the court of Lewis, t though promptly 
 avenged by the massacre of 20,000 prisoners, served as 
 an apology and signal for the memorable irruption of 
 1526. Ere that event, however ominous the clouds 
 which frequently darkened the eastern hemisphere of 
 Europe, they invariably gathered without bursting. 
 Hungary, during this temporary interval of breathing- 
 time, seems to have been lulled into a false and fatal 
 supineness, and to have taken no rational measures of 
 defence, in the event of a renewed invasion. Solyman, 
 who, according to Istuanfius, was looked upon at this 
 period as another Sardanapalus, lingered in his capital, 
 occupied in consolidating his conquests and resources, 
 and recruiting the strength of his vast empire, as Jove's 
 bird might retire to his impregnable aerie, and new 
 plume his wing, for a flight more soaring than the last. 
 
 At length, the blow, so long suspended, fell with re- 
 doubled weight. In the summer of the year already ad- 
 verted to, 250,000 Ottomans turned the flank of Transyl- 
 vania, and rushed like a torrent down upon the sandy 
 steppes of Lower Hungary. The bulwark of Christendom^ 
 had already been taken by assault. To oppose the inroad 
 
 * Istuanf. lib. iii. 
 
 + Lud. Tuber. Comm. lib. xi. and Nic. Olah. Chron, ad an. 1521. 
 
 t Comment, a Bar. ab Herberstein. 
 
 § Belgrade, — for long the bulwark of Christendom, as, for centu- 
 rius before, of the Byzantine empire. Bonfinius writes, that Charle- 
 magne stopt short his vague and nominal conquests at Belgrade, lest he 
 should appear to insult the frontiers of the eastern empire ; Ne orientalis 
 imperii fines laedere videretur. Ant. Bonfin. Uecad. 1. Lib. ix.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. O 
 
 of this destroying host, Lewis took the field in person ; 
 and ambitious to distinguish his reign by a splendid 
 achievement, he fatally resolved to stand the shock at 
 the head of very inferior forces. '' Green in his estate,"* 
 the royal stripling v^as accustomed to defer, as a matter 
 of course, to the advice of priestly counsellors. It was 
 an hereditary failing. Not long before, his predecessor, 
 Ladislas, had yielded to the fanaticism of the Archbishop 
 of Strigonie, whilst that prelate inflamed the minds of 
 the deluded peasantry to a degree of religious enthu- 
 siasm, which, although in the first instance directed 
 against the Turks, came to wreak itself indiscriminately 
 on Mahometan and Christian. f This phrenetic fire was 
 with difficulty extinguished by a sanguinary victory, 
 gained over the wTetched crusaders at Temeswar, by 
 John of Zapola, hereditary w^aivode of Transylvania. * 
 Unadmonished by his father's error, Lewis, as super- 
 stitious as he was brave, had blindly committed his con- 
 duct to the guidance of ecclesiastics. Several prelates 
 received military appointments, § and a friar of the order 
 of St. Francis precipitated the fate of Hungary. Paul 
 Tomorry, Archbishop of Colocza, took the lead of the 
 palatine Etienne Bathori,|| to whose office of customary 
 right the baton of generalissimo belonged, U and virtu- 
 
 * Bacon. 
 
 t Nic. Olah. Chron. Istuanf. lib. v., and Hist. Chron. Pannoniae, 
 auth. Theod. de Bry, p. 21. 
 
 t Istuanf. lib. v. Hist, de I'Emp. Ott. Chron. and Hist. Univers. 
 lib. v., p. 355. 
 
 § For the origin of the " Milites Ecclesiastic! " in Hungary, consult 
 Ladisl. Posthum. Regis, Decret. art, 3. It was issued A. D. 1454. 
 
 II Hist, de Tro. de Hong, par F. de Genille., and Istuanf. 1. viii., and 
 Hist. Universelle par Gasp. Peucer, lib. vii. p. 391. 
 
 % We know not if all history can furnish another example of a sub- 
 ject being possessed of such privileges, or rather prerogatives, as were 
 aUaclied to the rank of palatine of Hungary. The election of some one 
 of his magnates to that high office, (for life, see Pet.de Reva, Cent, vi.), 
 was obligatory upon the king. His was the first voice in the diet ; his 
 the right to the regency during the minority of the crown. In war he 
 
 b2
 
 4 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ally commanded at the battle of Mohacs, fought on the 
 29th of August, 1526.* On the night preceding this 
 dies ircc, King Lewis was admonished by a terrible 
 phantom, (^^ Un fantome hideux, decharne, les yeux 
 nrdens, lesjambes torses'') not to quit his advantageous 
 position, but to await the junction of John of Zapola, 
 who was advancing by rapid marches from Transylvania, 
 with a considerable reinforcement. The brave monarch, 
 liowever, influenced by the counsel of Tomorry, and 
 eager to strike a brilliant and decided blow, before the 
 diligence of the waivode could pretend to share the ho- 
 nour and participate in the triumph, disdained the salu- 
 tary and supernatural warning. In the ardour and in- 
 experience of youth, and actuated by the pride of prow- 
 ess, and the impatience of inaction, he felt persuaded 
 that every obstacle must yield to the invincible virtue of 
 the sword and the cross. His own life, and those of 
 22,000 men, 7 bishops, 28 magnates, and 500 nobles, 
 paid the forfeit of his rash subserviency to the arch- 
 bishop, who, if he was the author, was also the victim 
 of the public calamity. The butchery did not cease 
 for many following days. Buda was delivered up to pil- 
 lage ; the entire country, from the Drave to the Raab, 
 was devastated ; and 200,000 Christians were computed 
 to have been either slaughtered, or borne away to sla- 
 very. f Fear and trembling reigned throughout the land. 
 
 was general-in-chief ; in civil broils the authorised mediator between 
 king arid people. If, from any cause, the crown was incapacitated to 
 rule, or happened to be absent, the palatine, ei- officio dignitate, dis- 
 charged all the royal functions. See Tripartit. Opus decret. constitut. 
 Artie. Regura, incl. Reg. Hung., vol. ii. p. 141 — 183. Besides the 
 revenues from the saltpits, he received the rents of the two isles on the 
 coast of Dalmatia, afterwards possessed by the Venetians. 
 
 * Some authorities say October. 
 
 t For the particulars of the battle of Mohacs, see Istuanfius, Peucer, 
 F. de Genille. Cantimir, P. de Reva, c. vi. The details in L'Histoire 
 des Revolutions de Hongrie, are the most copious ; they are chiefly ex- 
 tracted from Bioderith, "qui y etait present.''
 
 INTKODUCTORY. 5 
 
 Hungarian mothers, fancying the howl of the wolf-dog 
 in the night portended the coming of the Turk, were 
 known, in their distraction, " to pluck their nipple from 
 the boneless gums of the babe that milked them," and 
 bury him alive, lest his shrill cries might betray their 
 lurking place. It appears manifestly from every account, 
 that the whole of Hungary lay prostrate at the foot of 
 the victor. Her claims and liberties — her constitution 
 and prosperity — were alike trodden down ; and from that 
 day to the present, she might have been swallowed up in 
 the Ottoman empire, had Solyman not found himself 
 shortly constrained, by the necessity of his affairs, to 
 withdraw his forces into Asia, in order to crush the re- 
 bellion of the Caramanian princes. 
 
 These historical occurrences, which we have necessa- 
 rily glanced over more cursorily in this preliminary chap- 
 ter than we might have done were ours a loftier avocation 
 engrossed the attention of all men, and account, in a 
 great measure, for the obscurity which involves the 
 family and earlier years of Martinuzzi. What was over- 
 looked amidst incidents more immediately interesting, 
 could hardly be retraced years subsequently, especially 
 since Martinuzzi, after his destinies had called him to 
 so high an elevation, invariably eschewed any allusion to 
 his origin. We have only, therefore, to choose between 
 the contradictions of his chroniclers. The biography of 
 M. Bechet, canon of Usez,* (though chiefly compiled 
 from Thuanus and Istuanfius), seems to us least obnox- 
 ious to cavil, and we shall consequently take leave to 
 adhere, in a great measure, to his authority, in the con- 
 cise preliminary account of Martinuzzi, which we think 
 requisite to lay before our readers. 
 
 The personage, the interesting scene of whose fortunes 
 we have undertaken to exhibit, was consigned, by the 
 
 * Ilistoire du Ministere du C. Martinusius dediee a S. A. S. Mon- 
 seigneur le Prince Ragotski, Prince Souverain de Transylvan. A Paris 
 1715.
 
 6 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 bishop Sigismimd of FUnfkirclien, to the prelection of 
 J. Corvinus, natural son of King Mathias; and his child- 
 hood was spent in the castle of Hunniade, in Transyl- 
 vania. Afterwards, together with his sister, he came 
 to reside under the roof of the Grafne, or Countess 
 Scepas, mother of John of Zapola. The children were 
 recommended to her service by the same prelate of FUnf- 
 kirclien, who introduced them as the offspring of one 
 Gregory Uthysenitsch, whom he represented to be the des- 
 cendant of an illustrious family, plunged by the civil cala- 
 mities of the period in ruin. Further explanation the 
 bishop declined affording, and it seems to have been the 
 impression of the countess, that in fostering the little 
 George Martinuzzi, she was solacing the paternal solici- 
 tude of her right reverend friend. 
 
 Be that as it may, George soon found himself at home; 
 his childish sports and those of his sister. Rose, were 
 shared by the youthful count, and the little Beatrice de 
 Zapola. Indeed, over the former (although several years 
 his senior) our foundling presently gained such an as- 
 cendant, as only ceased long afterwards with the life of 
 that personage. When George Martinuzzi had attained 
 the age of manhood, for some unexplained cause, he 
 quitted the residence of the young waivode, of Transyl- 
 vania, and retired to the monastery of the order of St. 
 Paul the hermit, at Ladium, near Erlau. Here, having 
 struggled into the knowledge of classical literature and 
 science, amid no ordinary impediments, he betook him- 
 self to the ecclesiastical life. Bishop Sigismund, of 
 Funfkirchen, his early benefactor, was now no more. On 
 the accession of John of Zapola, after the battle of Mo- 
 hacs, Martinuzzi declined accepting his pressing invita- 
 tion to come to Buda, but when, in the ensuing year, the 
 troubles of the kingdom were renewed, and the invasion 
 of the Archduke Ferdinand drove his beloved sovereign 
 into exile, the young priest deemed it his duty to leave 
 the sanctuary of the cloister, and followed his friend to Po-
 
 INTRODUCTORY. ' 
 
 land, to proffer him his services. He found the king at 
 the house of Jerome Lascus,* afterwards Palatine of 
 Seradia, a man, to use the words of the historian, " for 
 his honourable descent and learned virtue of great fame 
 and reputation amongst the Polonians."t Martinuzzi 
 was welcomed with open arms by the expelled monarch ; 
 the more so, that he brought word that the regalia of St. 
 Stephen was yet at Vissegrade, and had not hitherto fallen 
 into the hands of his competitor. 
 
 The reader should understand that this was a relic of 
 antiquity, held in the most superstitious regard by every 
 true Hungarian, from its being devoutly believed to have 
 been fabricated by angels. It was the sacred gift of pope 
 Benedict the Fifth, t to Stephen the Holy, the first Chris- 
 tian possessed of the regal dignity in Hungary, from 
 which era it had been preserved with reverential awe, as a 
 deposit of inestimable w^orth. The regal rights and pri- 
 vileges were reputed to be inseparable from its possession. 
 In it is centered, remarks one historian, § " omnis religio, 
 salus, decusque Hungarorum. — Quis precor," he asks 
 elsewhere, " ambigere ausit sacrara coronam in tutela prse- 
 potentis Dei esse?" without its assistance there could be no 
 legitimate claim preferred to the sovereignty. "Quand bien 
 meme vous verriez la couronne de St. Etienne sur la tete 
 d'un Bceuf vous n'en devriez pas moins le reconnoitre 
 pour roi," was the celebrated saying of an Hungarian. || 
 
 * See Hieron. Lasky, Hist. Arc. leg. ad Solim. in adparatu ad Hist. 
 Hung. Dec. 1. Monum. 1. 
 
 + \'ir inter Sarmatas ab illustri nobilitate eruditaeque virtutis noraine 
 clarissimus. 
 
 I For this, Bonfinius, Dec. •!, lib. 1. auctor est. The crown was, 
 however, the gift of Silvester II. 
 
 § Petr. de Reva, de IMon. ik S. Cor. reg. Hung. lib. 1. — This author 
 indulges, throughout his centuries, in repeated hyperbolical admiration 
 of the subject of his history, (the Monarchical and Sacred Crown 
 of Hungaiy), in which the enclosures of the Latin Syntax are not unfre- 
 quently over-leaped. 
 
 II Nicolas de Gara, Palatine under the reign of Mary I.
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 The joy of the king at learning that the sacred regalia 
 had escaped the spoiler, may therefore easily be conceived. 
 Martinuzzi, in company with Lascus, was privately des- 
 patched as John's ambassador to Constantinople. 
 
 The interest of Solyman, and his hatred of the empire, 
 must have ably seconded, or even prevented the eloquence 
 of the holy father. It is certain, that, whether directly, 
 or through the medium of the Basha, he so forcibly im- 
 pressed upon the mind of the sultan, the impolicy of per- 
 mitting the archduke to press upon his dominions by the 
 acquisition of the Roman Dacia, that Solyman himself 
 proposed to crown John of Zapola, in Buda, if he would 
 consent to hold his sceptre as a fief of the Porte. It was 
 somewhat prior to this, that Ferdinand, in right of his 
 consort, and what was called at the time the family com- 
 pact, advanced his claim to the Hungarian crown; and 
 having, on the evacuation of the Turks, entered the coun- 
 try with an imperial army, he already was possessed of 
 the greater part of the kingdom. Martinuzzi had scarcely 
 taken his leave, when the ambassadors of Ferdinand are 
 ushered into the presence of the Ottoman emperor. They 
 rashly require of him the cession of the places he had 
 captured from king Lewis, as the price of the friendship 
 of the archduke. A haughty and bitter smile curled the 
 lip of Solyman for a moment. Then, rising indignantly, 
 he spake : memorable was his reply. " Say to him who sent 
 you," exclaimed the fierce sultan, " that you have beheld 
 my armies on the point of re-entering Hungary — the 
 keys of all my fortresses in that kingdom are here in my 
 hands, and I shall suspend them round my neck ;* thus 
 accoutred, I hie me in the first place to the plain of 
 Mohacs:t there bid your master await me if he have the 
 courage, and let arms again decide, on that plain, whether 
 this territory be his right, or that of king John, my feu- 
 
 * " Omnium clades ad collum meum appendam." 
 
 t " Mohacs, fatalem gentis Hungariae locum." —Petrus de Reva.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 9 
 
 datory. Should I lie vanquished, he will find me amongst 
 the slain; when, by severing my head from off my shoul- 
 ders, the keys of Hungary will be in his grasp — but 
 mark me, sir, if we do not meet in Mohacs, tell your 
 master, I march on to Buda; if I light not on him in that 
 capital, 'tis in Vienna I shall seek him."* It is well 
 known how dreadfully Solyman kept this promise. In 
 the ensuing month, like an unhooded hawk, he flew at 
 his accustomed quarry, and re-seated John of Zapola in 
 triumph on the throne of Hungary. 
 
 Meantime, the sister of Martinuzzi had been united to 
 the graf, or count, Peter Pereny, and within a twelve- 
 month afterwards gave birth to a male infant (Maximilian) 
 whose being was dearly purchased by the death of his 
 maternal parent. Peter Pereny, who came to play so 
 conspicuous a part on the troubled stage of Hungary, 
 was descended of an illustrious house. 
 
 At the time that the throne became vacant, in conse- 
 quence of King Lewis having bit the dust, Pereny was in 
 possession of Vissegrade, and so, although only one of 
 the " Duumviri," held at his disposal the regal ornaments 
 of the kingdom,! which, by the prescription of centuries, 
 were deposited in the castle that overlooks that city.f 
 
 This nobleman was endowed with many of the qualities 
 which command respect. His magnificence bordered on 
 profusion; his courage was unacquainted with fear, and 
 his mind disdained subordination; but he appears to 
 have been governed throughout his life, chiefly by that 
 wavering impulse, which is apt to become the sole rudder 
 of minds, not nicely balanced by substantial principle. 
 There was, however, something grand in the uncom- 
 promising hauteur with which he invariably kept him- 
 
 * Istuanfius, 1.x. p. 152 ; and Joann. Zermagh, Rerum gestarum inter 
 Ferd. & Joann. Comment, lib. 1. § viii; and Bethlen, lib. 7. p. p. 43; 
 and Jovii Histor. libro xxviii. p. 279. 
 
 t Peter de Reva.
 
 10 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 self aloof from the herd of imperial courtiers and time- 
 servers, in aid of whose monarch, fortune, rank, coun- 
 try, and reputation had been alike sacrificed. The 
 noble exile stood, like Hannibal, at the court of An- 
 tiochus, *' amongst them, but not of them," — his body 
 seemed to swell beyond the fetters of their conventional 
 alliance. Pereny knew not how to succumb even to 
 conquer. What could be a finer spectacle than the 
 generosity and magnificence displayed by the Hungarian 
 noble, in the days of his glory ; ere yet his character had 
 been tarnished, and his fortune at once assailed by ad- 
 versity, and broken in upon by ingratitude and dis- 
 appointment ?— the hundred tables daily groaning beneath 
 that charitable munificence, which catered hospitality to 
 a whole banat, and where the choicest chivalry in the 
 land were proud to partake of his entertainments: — 
 his boast of never putting foot in stirrups without a 
 hundred high-mettled coursers being led before him : — 
 the housings of these were of rich cloth embroidered 
 with gold, and the bridles, head-pieces, and all the har- 
 nessing were of corresponding magnificence: — alike num- 
 ber, no less richly caparisoned, awaited him at his door : — 
 the vast number of knights admitted into his train, which 
 gave his life-guard the aspect of royal brilliancy:* — the 
 12,000 vassals and retainers, all admirably mounted and 
 equipped, who, more devoted to the will of their chief, 
 than to the sovereign, or to the laws, obeyed his mandate 
 with unhesitating promptitude. Eloquent, active, and 
 enterprising, the Hungarian noble, formidable alike from 
 those personal accomplishments, and eminent for the ex- 
 tent of his feudal territories, and the offices and juris- 
 dictions with which he was invested, might have wrought 
 the salvation of his native land ; but as his means were 
 
 * The brilliancy of the cortege of the Hungarian magnate, has been 
 deemed worthy of historical notice. See Comment. Rer. Mosc. a Baro ab 
 Herberstein. p. 208, 209. Also Lud. Tuber. Comm. de Temp. su. lib. 
 xi.s. 2.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 11 
 
 directed, they only tended to aggravate her present 
 state of embroilment, and accelerate her ultimate day of 
 thraldom ; his many distinguished virtues were fluctu- 
 ating and unstable, and proved on that account perni- 
 cious to his country, and even ruinous to himself. Pereny 
 admitted, within the still chambers of his mind, a single 
 but cankering vice, and also his otherwise brilliant quali- 
 ties were attended with that defect we have just men- 
 tioned. Like unto Reuben, despite " the excellency of 
 dignity and the excellency of power," he was " unstable 
 as water and might not excel." The vice was envy. 
 Like Haman, whose advancement '' availed him nothing, 
 so long as he saw Mordecai the Jew, sitting at the king's 
 gate," the distorted vision, the coeca invidia of Pereny, 
 alloyed whatever distinctions and honours were bestowed 
 on him. He could ill brook his station of comparative 
 inferiority, and was still dissatisfied, so long as he saw his 
 brother-in-law surpass him- in authority and influence 
 with the king. But let us not in this early stage of our 
 story yield to gloomy forebodings. Querela ab initio 
 absint. * On the election of John Zapola to the throne, 
 the Count Pereny, disregarding equally the asserted right 
 of Ferdinand, and the rival claim preferred by the pala- 
 tine Bathori, then absent in Bohemia, came from Vissi- 
 grade to Alba Regalis, with the regal ensigns, to assist at 
 the coronation of the waivode. The ceremony was so- 
 lemnly performed at the hands of the bishops of Stri- 
 gonie t and Vacia, and a few days afterwards king John 
 acknowledged the signal service of Pereny, by appoint- 
 ing him to be one of the governors of the province of 
 Transylvania. Whether this dignity, however high, was 
 inadequate to the cravings of an unprincipled ambition, 
 or whether, even thus early, he had grown jealous of the 
 
 * Livy. 
 
 t It was the claim and privilege of the archbishop of this see, to 
 crown the kings of Hungarv.
 
 12 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDEI.Y. 
 
 credit acquired by Martinuzzi, on finding it eclipse his 
 own, cannot now be ascertained; nor indeed, in the 
 chronicles of the time, do we find any motive alleged for 
 the strange tergiversation of Pereny. The fact we are 
 about to relate is at least certain, * the particular induce- 
 ment must for ever remain among the impenetrabilia of a 
 hasty and uncertain character, f On the subsequent 
 invasion of Hungary by the Archduke Ferdinand, and 
 the flight of the king that followed his discomfiture at 
 Tocay, Pereny, who had illegally retained possession of 
 the diadem,! presented the sacred treasure to the Austrian, 
 as he had lately done to John of Zapola. The coronation 
 of Ferdinand, and Ann his wife, sister of the unfortunate 
 Lewis, was celebrated by the same prelate of Strigonie^ 
 with great pomp at Alba Regalis. The inconstancy -of 
 Pereny did not end here. After the restoration of Zapola, 
 the graf renewed his fealty where he had first pledged 
 it, and presently contrived to come to terms and recon- 
 cile himself to John. He was reinstated in his title and 
 oflSce of waivode II of Transylvania, and soon found him- 
 self so well established in the king's favour, as, being at 
 this time a widower, openly to make his addresses to the 
 princess Beatrice.^ The point of time at which we are 
 now arrived, brings us to the convention, which ended in 
 the fatal accord between the Hungarian monarch and the 
 Archduke, (newly elected king of Bohemia.) Herein it 
 was capitulated, that John of Zapola should retain 
 Hungary during the remainder of his lifetime, but that, 
 
 * See Perez Papai in Rud. rediv. ad ann. 1526 ; and Lampe in Histor. 
 Eccles. Reform, p. 67. 
 
 t Perenus Vir inceitae fidei. Istuanfius. 
 
 t Perenus qui (diadema) contra legem sancitam apud se detineret. — 
 Petrus de Reva, cent. vi. 
 
 § Op. Tripart. p. 311. 
 
 II Waivode signifies praefectus militias or general of the army. Rycaut. 
 
 ^ Ipse vero Pereny, ab eo tempore, Johanni usque ad ejus obitum, 
 fidem, et obedientiani utcunque servabit. Joan Zermagh. Rer. gest. inter 
 Ferd. & Joann. lib. ii. s. 11.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. l3 
 
 on his demise, that kingdom should be thencefonvard 
 annexed to Austria. In this expedient for closing the 
 gates of anarchy, Avhich is said to have been suggested 
 to both parties, by their common mediator and friend, 
 Jerome Lascus, the historian, was deposited the fruitful 
 seeds of future wars and contentions. Viewed in what- 
 ever light, John was incompetent, of his own will, to 
 conclude and subscribe to any such compromise. The 
 constitution of the realm was an elective monarchy : and 
 further, John held his crown as a fief of the Porte ; but 
 in this unprincipled cession of the kingdom, neither 
 Solyman, on the one part, nor the magnates of the state, 
 assembled in national diet, on the other, had been con- 
 sulted. At the veto of either, the compact was clearly 
 void.* Ferdinand, however, may have reflected, that 
 it would be only a useless expenditure of blood and 
 treasure, any longer to contest the crown of Saint 
 Stephen with the present competitor; whilst John 
 of Zapoia's assent to the reversion of the kingdom, 
 at all events, opened a loop-hole for the chances of 
 the future. Whether either of the royal negociators 
 was ever sincere in the engagements he entered into, 
 is uncertain ; but not long after the aforesaid accom- 
 modation, at the repeated instances of his nobility, 
 John was induced, notwithstanding his advanced years, 
 to contract a matrimonial alliance with his cousin Isabella, 
 the daughter of Sigismund the First, king of Poland. 
 The loveliness of his bride might have made the match 
 acceptable to the monarch, while the desire of thw^arting 
 the views of the princes of the House of Austria, so evi- 
 dently on the watch for the aggrandizement of their family, 
 
 * Ce ne fut pas sans indignation que les Hongrois virent faire une 
 transaction de cette nature, sans la participation des 6 tats ; corame si 
 ]'un ou I'autre avoit eu la propriete du royaume ou qu'il eut ete un 
 patrimoine dont ils eussent eu la libre et entiere disposition. — Hist, des 
 Revolutions de Hongrie. Tom. 1. lib. 11. p. 142.
 
 14 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDFXY. 
 
 recommended the union to his haughty and independent 
 magnates.* Thus, in due course of time, another power- 
 ful obstacle between the archduke and the attainment 
 of his ambitious projects, made its appearance, in the per- 
 son of the Infant Czerina, who, we take occasion to adver- 
 tise our readers, has done us the honour of assuming the 
 part of heroine in the eventful tale, which, according 
 to our humble ability, we shall presently proceed to tell. 
 Shortly after the birth of Czerina, the graf, Pereny, was 
 betrothed to the princess Beatrice ; but the espousals had 
 not been celebrated when the death of her royal brother 
 intervened. John for some time had been in a declining 
 state of health, notwithstanding which, he followed in 
 his chariot the large army he had despatched to Herman- 
 stadt, to put down the rebel Transylvanian chieftains, 
 Maylat and Balassi. In the course of that campaign, 
 the father of our heroine expired, and left his kingdom 
 as a sort of waif, free spoil to the earliest in the field, or 
 more like the jy res da of a chancery suit, which is (or was) 
 wont to be parcelled and preyed upon, sine die, by any 
 party, but the one most concerned. Ferdinand imme- 
 diately marched an army into Hungary, and invested 
 Buda. Martinuzzi, the counsellor of John in the most 
 momentous affairs of government, had long before that 
 monarch's demise been installed in the see of Waradin, 
 and nominated to the waivodeship of Transylvania, be- 
 sides having been created grand treasurer. He now 
 found himself appointed, by the will of his royal patron, 
 joint regent with the Queen-dowager Isabella, during the 
 minority of the youthful queen, who was bequeathed to 
 his especial guardianship, and recommended to his care.f 
 Fortunately for the nation, this pre-eminence in dignity 
 
 * J. Zermagh, Rer. gest. inter Feid. iSc Joann. lib. ii. s. xi. Comment. 
 Pet. de Reva, cent. vi. p. 725. 
 
 * Histoire du Card. Martinusius, lib. ii. p. 115.
 
 INTRODUCTORY 15 
 
 could not have been conferred more deservedly, nor 
 such plenitude of power have been intrusted into abler 
 hands. 
 
 Count Pereny, perhaps mortified at his brother-in- 
 law's new accumulation of honour, again revolted, with 
 other Hungarian nobles, to the side of Ferdinand, who 
 was well pleased to take advantage of those civil dis- 
 cords, on which he rested his present influence, and 
 founded his hopes of future dominion. Pereny w^as pre- 
 sent at the investment of Buda, which was first relieved 
 by a victory, obtained by Martinuzzi over the Austrian 
 forces, in which the general-in-chief (Roccandolph,) was 
 mortally wounded, and the siege was afterwards wholly 
 raised, by the advance of Solyman himself at the head of 
 immense forces. Pereny again took shelter in the Aus- 
 trian dominions, where it was reported that Ferdinand 
 purposed rewarding services, which the fugitive had the 
 inclination, but not the power to perform, by giving him 
 in marriage his sister, the Queen Mary, relict of the un- 
 fortunate Lewis. If ever such alliance was seriously in- 
 tended by the parties most interested, they were not 
 allowed to remain long in its contemplation; for, after 
 awhile, we find the unhappy exile thrown into the state 
 prison of Vienna, on some charge of treasonable prac- 
 tices, the nature of which does not clearly appear. 
 
 The national party, having escaped the more imminent 
 danger of overthrow from their avowed enemy, the arch- 
 duke, was now to be obnoxious to the hardly less fatal 
 offices of their Ottoman allies. Solyman soon dictated 
 the price, at which he rated his friendship and protection. 
 Under pretence of guarding against any subsequent in- 
 vasion of Hungary by the Imperialists, he engarrisoned 
 with his forces most of the fortresses and towns of that 
 kingdom ; relegating the child of Zapola to the province 
 of Transylvania, and some of the bordering Banats, her 
 hereditary inheritance, and the only fragments of the 
 Hungarian dominions, which remained uncursed by a
 
 16 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 foreign yoke. The sultan, however, solemnly engaged to 
 deliver up the other states to " the heir of his good friend 
 John," when she was grown of an age, capable of taking 
 upon herself the reins of government. Czerina and her 
 mother sought refuge, in the first instance, in the city of 
 Lippa, beyond the river Tibiscus, and afterwards, on 
 Hermanstadt becoming the seat of the Transylvanian 
 government, they took up their residence in that capital. 
 Some few years elapsed when the Count Pereny, having 
 effected his escape from the dungeons of Vienna, again 
 appears upon the scene, to renew his suit for the hand of 
 the Princess Beatrice. At the earnest instance of the 
 Queen-dowager, backed by the authoritative sanction of 
 Solyman, the hand of the graf was accepted. A day 
 was appointed for the nuptials, which were intended to 
 be solemnized at Buda, under the auspices, and graced 
 by the presence of the all-powerful sultan. The Drincess 
 Beatrice, in company with her affianced husband, and 
 under the escort of a small troop, repaired from Transyl- 
 vania to the Hungarian capital. 
 
 On the skirts of the forest of Belivar, the party was 
 surprised by one of those strong bodies of Wallachian 
 marauders, which, in that age, superadded the horrors of 
 rapine and pillage, to the other evils that accumulated on 
 the wretched Magyari. — Pereny and his attendants were 
 put to flight, and the princess was borne away, but 
 whither was never ascertained. The gathering strength 
 of a most wild rumour soon fixed upon Vicchy of Eissen- 
 buro-, for the leader of these Wallachians : he was a 
 Hungarian nobleman of the highest rank, a near kins- 
 man of the Princess Beatrice, and further related to the 
 throne, having married the cousin of the late monarch. 
 At the period of King John's demise, this man was go- 
 vernor of Temeswar, and high constable of the king- 
 dom ; but shortly after that event, he resigned both 
 offices. As the character of Vicchy had hitherto ranked 
 above all suspicion, the testimony of several of Pereny's
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 17 
 
 retinue, though seemingly corroborated by their earnest 
 and unanimous asseveration, was rejected by most men 
 as being utterly incredible. It was thought right, how- 
 ever, to cite Eissenburg to appear before the tribunal of 
 the king (judicium regale), to answer to the charge. 
 To the surprise of every one, he disregarded the sum- 
 mons. He was a second time required to surrender him- 
 self, under the penalty of otherwise being declared 
 guilty of the weighty accusation preferred against him : 
 still, whether in contumacy or apprehension, cannot be 
 affirmed, he neglected to deliver up his person ; and al- 
 though every body knew, he was all along residing on his 
 own estate, by the laws of Hungary, until his crime was 
 established, and sentence pronounced, his patent of no- 
 bility secured him from arrest.* At last, however, the 
 notoriety of the affair, and the absence of Eissenburg, 
 being deemed sufficient to supersede the necessity of any 
 more formal process, the detail of evidence was somewhat 
 summarily followed up by an attainder of outlawry. 
 
 The brideless bridegroom, after the calamitous occur- 
 rence we have just narrated, only showed himself for a 
 short period at the court of Hermanstadt ; and then, 
 having consigned his son, Maximilian, to the guardian- 
 ship of the boy's uncle, the regent Martinuzzi, he left 
 his native land, with the view, it was conjectured, of 
 drowning the bitter memory of his loss in other scenes, 
 and the excitement of travel. For many subsequent 
 years the movements of the wanderer cannot be traced ; 
 but some time anterior to the date of the following his- 
 tory, Peter Pereny was currently reported to have fallen 
 a victim to the plague, in one of the villages of Styria. 
 His son, Maximilian, assumed his style and titles, and 
 took possession of the family estates. 
 
 * Volumus etiara quod nee nos, nee posteri nostri aliquo unquam 
 tempore (militantes vel) servientes (patriae) capiant, nisi primo citati 
 fueiint et ordine judicario convicli. 11 Dec. St. Stephen.
 
 18 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Meanwhile Transylvania was menaced with being ap- 
 propriated by the sultan, under the same insidious pre- 
 texts, that had answered but too successfully with Hun- 
 gary. But the destinies of the house of Zapola were 
 committed to no ordinary hands, and the regent was 
 not likely a second time to be taken by surprise. By the 
 intrigues of the Queen-dowager Isabella, who, grown 
 jealous of the conjunct authority of Martinuzzi, distrusted 
 his purposes, the affections of the nobles were alienated 
 from him, and a deep conspiracy was concerted for his 
 destruction. Isabella's principal agent herein was Va- 
 lentinian Count Turascus, who had been some years be- 
 fore tricked into prison by Solyman, and had only lately 
 effected his escape ; he was a Hungarian general of the 
 greatest reputation. 
 
 About the time that Solyman directed the pasha of 
 Buda to penetrate Transylvania with all his forces, and 
 Peter, prince of Moldavia, a savage marauding chief, 
 poured his wild hordes into the same province, count 
 Turascus took the opportunity, after several jars, followed 
 by formal and superficial reconciliations, to break out 
 into open revolt against Martinuzzi, whom he proclaimed 
 a tyrant and a traitor. To add to the desperate state of 
 things, a fourth army made an irruption into the princi- 
 pality. This consisted of a strong body of Imperialists, 
 aided by a few Spanish regiments, the whole under the 
 command of Castaldo, marquis of Piadena. And now, 
 assailed at once by foreign force, and shaken to the 
 centre by intestine division, all men prognosticated, from 
 such fatal concurrence, the ruin of their country. The 
 dominions of John of Zapola seemed on the point of pass- 
 ing from the rule of his house wholly and for ever, when 
 the enterprising valour of one man changed the aspect 
 of affairs. The lord regent, substituting the spear for 
 the crosier, and, so to speak, buckling on the cuirass over 
 the cassock, hurried from one end of the land to the 
 other, and roused by his eloquence and exhortations, the
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 19 
 
 whole population to arms. In an incredible short space 
 of time, there was a general rally of the Hungarian pa- 
 triots, and he found himself at the head of between 
 fifty and sixty thousand combatants. It is not for 
 us to follow Martinuzzi through the brilliant operations 
 of that campaign, which only closed by the utter 
 discomfiture of the queen's party, and the rout and 
 dispersion of his opponents, whether foreign or do- 
 mestic. He first encountered the pasha of Buda, who, 
 after suffering a complete overthrow, fled, with such pre- 
 cipitation as, according to the historian, to retire in one 
 day over an extent of country, which it had taken him a 
 week to measure in advance. Valentinian Count Turas- 
 cus was then laying siege to Chonad ; and Martinuzzi, 
 informed of his position, made a hasty and fatiguing 
 march to that city. Allowing his soldiers only a small 
 interval for refreshment, he surprised the rebel camp in 
 the darkness of the night, took four thousand prisoners, 
 and left two thousand five hundred dead on the field of 
 battle. This important victory entirely broke the spirit 
 of the malcontents ; the grafs, maylat, and balassi, who 
 were preparing to revolt, made their submissions, and no 
 better resource was left to a great number of the mutinous 
 barons, holding like hostile sentiments, though of inferior 
 rank. But the mild disposition of Martinuzzi, or his pru- 
 dence, tempered the insolence of his triumph ; and his 
 sequent conciliatory conduct, was productive of more solid 
 benefit to his country, than was the victory itself. Turascus 
 returned to Hermanstadt, not as a conqueror, but as a 
 captive. 
 
 Being shortly after set at liberty, he was treated with the 
 greatest confidence and regard. Indebted, therefore, for 
 honours and attentions, in lavishing which Martinuzzi was 
 unremitting, Valentinian Turascus became gradually, by 
 gratitude, as well as interest, not disinclined to join the 
 opinion of those, who, for other reasons, desired the stabi- 
 lity of the regent's government. Hardly allowing his
 
 20 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 soldiers a day's respite, our belligerent prelate came up 
 with Peter the Moldavian, and although the Transylva- 
 nian force was considerably inferior, he so out-generaled 
 that ferocious freebooter, that he was compelled to betake 
 himself to flight, in the course of which five thousand 
 Moldavians are said to have perished. A more pleasing 
 trophy of this victory was the rescue of a thousand prisoners, 
 whom these war-hawks were carrying off into captivity. 
 Martinuzzi, finally, prepared to measure himself with the 
 imperial general, but such was the terror the warlike 
 gownsman had inspired, that Castaldo did not choose to 
 abide the issue ; he hastily drew off his forces beyond the 
 borders, and left the seven castles* free and unpolluted by 
 the presence of a single invader. The most solid reward, 
 and the most salutary consequence of these exploits of 
 Martinuzzi, are alike to be found in those terms of accom- 
 modation, which they enabled him to obtain. The sultan, 
 astonished at the attitude the province had taken, under 
 the presiding genius of the man, on whom, only a few 
 months before, he had pronounced sentence of deposition, 
 and whom he had stripped (on paper) of all his dignities, 
 sacerdotal and civil, yielding to the ascendant of " Prsesul 
 Georgius," wrote to acknowledge his authority, and pro- 
 pose an armistice. Ferdinand, not slow in emulating the 
 policy of the Musselman, likewise made advances of re- 
 conciliation. 
 
 Martinuzzi's powers of diplomacy were equally eminent 
 with his military capacity, and he possessed the talents, 
 both of managing men and conducting business. He so 
 dexterously made the rival views of these great potentates 
 counterbalance each other, that he concluded an honour- 
 able peace with both parties. Solyman consented to the 
 
 * Septem Castra, as Transylvania was formerly called, but what 
 castles were signified is doubtful. See Simonis de Keza Chron. p. 83, 
 and Theodorii de Thuringia ; Vitam S. Elisabetha, cap. 6. p. 40. 
 Edit. Pray, end Pray. Dissert, iv. p. 75. v. 98. 99. vi. 109., and Thur6cz, 
 p. 1. C.24., and Palraa Notit. Rer. Ungar. P. 1. p. 99.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 21 
 
 retrocession of the Banat of Temeswar, and again bound 
 himself to evacuate the rest of Hungary, when the heir of 
 John of Zapola should arrive at an age to govern. Fer- 
 dinand engaged, that no imperial army should thence- 
 forward transgress the boundary of the Theisse. That 
 monarch at the same time came to terms with the sultan, 
 and the foundation of the accord, as Augerius Busbequius 
 reports, was the payment of an annual tribute to the 
 Porte of 30,000 Hungarian ducats ; he, moreover, nomi- 
 nated Martinuzzi to the archbishopric of Strigonie,* which 
 was one of the chief cities, contained in that small division 
 of Lower Hungary, which the Austrians had first acquired 
 on the death of king John, and since tenaciously held. 
 The dignity of the Roman purple was not long behind. f — 
 Cardinal Martinuzzi, thus triumphant against the foreign 
 foe, insensibly seized the helm of state, as his self-inherent 
 and indisputable right. Though he did not think fit to 
 assume the title of king, he at least reserved to himself, 
 whenever he pleased, the power of ascending the throne; 
 and, however ambitious his views in that regard, it ap- 
 peared impossible they should exceed, what his courage 
 and capacity warranted his entertaining. He possessed 
 tliat lively confidence in himself, which is the pledge of 
 success, and he bore his exaltation with that calm and 
 modest equanimity, X which ever accompanies conscious 
 desert. It was soon seen, that his versatile genius could 
 adapt itself with equal facility to the toils of government, 
 as to the spirit-stirring occupation of the camp, and the 
 learning of the schools. In fact, the long continuance of 
 his administration^ after having abolished the co-ordinate 
 
 * The possession of this see gives the title of Primate, and the office of 
 Chancellor of Hungary. 
 
 t Istuanf. 1. xvii., and Hist, du Card. Martin. 1. v. and Histoire des 
 Troubles de Hongrie, par M. Fumee Sieur de Genille, liv. iv. 
 
 t Totam tamen earn tantae dignitatis et fastigii accessionem moderato 
 animo tullt. — Istuanf.
 
 22 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 authority of the queen, supposes the arts of policy as 
 well as of war — Ore manuque, consultor patrise.* 
 
 The spirit of Isabella, as a woman, and her maternal 
 apprehensions, alikequailed before the ascendancy of the 
 prelate, as the genius of Antony cowered and felt 
 rebuked, within the sphere of Caesar. The few leading- 
 and preliminary events, with which we have detained the 
 reader in the above, we are afraid, tedious abstract, hap- 
 pened several years before the opening of our story. They 
 will be found to interweave with the course of the narra- 
 tive, and we trust the candid reader will excuse any in- 
 completeness, incident to the foregoing faint and imper- 
 fect summary, since its only object was to imbue him 
 with the spirit of the scene, on which he will shortly 
 enter. 
 
 * Prudent. Apotheosis.
 
 23 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY, (CONTINUED.) 
 
 Erat eo tempore maximis ad invicem hostilitatibus totius 
 regni facta tuibatio ; crebra ubique ; latrocinia, viarum obsessio ; 
 audiebantur passim, immo fiebant incendia infinita. 
 
 We shall have to make mention of the hordes of no- 
 madic Moldavians and Wallachians, which, ever since 
 the invitation of Ladislas, laid waste and depopulated 
 the south-eastern extremity of Christian Europe. Some 
 previous notice of these people would seem, therefore, 
 indispensable to the reader's right understanding of the 
 ensuing pages. 
 
 Wallachia and Moldavia (called by the Turks, Bugdan) 
 had been successively over-run and subjected, by the 
 Goths, the Visigoths, the Huns,* the Gepidse, the Bul- 
 garians, and the Tartars. Apprehensive, in case of fur- 
 ther resistance, of being reduced, like Greece, to slavery, 
 they submitted, in 1418t to the Ottoman arms, and their 
 national existence was made thenceforth dependent on 
 the yearly payment of a trifling tribute (2000 crowns per 
 
 * Thurucz, alluding to the flight of the people of Pannonia at the ap- 
 proach of Attila, adds — " Solis Walachis ipsorum qui erant pastores 
 sponte in Pannonia remanentibus." 
 
 t An inscription in Templo Leutschoniae, says 1484.
 
 24 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 annum) to the sultan.* However, at the time we com- 
 memorate, the population of modern Wallachia f pre- 
 sented rather the semblance of innumerable parties of 
 banditti than the usual characteristics of a distinct, 
 though conquered nation. Dark indeed, and stained 
 with blood, are the annals of these people — '' C'etoient 
 des hommes sauvages," says the historian, " qui par 
 leur aspect et surtout par leur moeurs resembloient plus 
 a des betes feroces qu'a des hommes — lis n'avoient 
 d'autre nourriture que le lait de leur troupeaux. lis 
 passoient les jours entiers dans les cavernes d'ou ils ne 
 sortoient que pour fendre sur les voyageurs qu'ils de- 
 pouilloient et tuoient impitoyablement. Ils ne con- 
 noissoient point de profession plus noble que celle de 
 vivre de rapines et de brigandages." And yet, predatory 
 as had long been their habits, and ignorant and savage 
 as were this singular race by nature (the Changlse, as they 
 are designated by William de Rubruquis), they claimed 
 the honour of being the descendants of ancient Rome, 
 uncontaminated by any admixture of barbarian blood ; 
 the direct posterity, in fact, of those Roman settlers, 
 whom the Emperor Aurelian (when the astonished Eagle 
 retired before the fell swoop of the northern Vultures) 
 left in Dacia, on his relinquishing the province to the 
 Goths and Vandals. 
 
 Such was their boast, and however vain and incre- 
 dible it may at first sound, the striking affinities between 
 their vernacular dialect and the Latin language, and the 
 circumstance of the costume of the lower orders being 
 precisely similar to that of the Dacians, as those people 
 are represented on Trajan's Pillar in Rome, would seem 
 
 * Shortly after the date of our tale, however (in 1574), Moldavia was 
 utterly subjugated. 
 
 t The name of the Wallachians, in the time of the Byzantine histo- 
 rians, was common to many different nations. See Anna Commenis 
 Alex. liv. viii.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 25 
 
 to establish on no weak grounds the truth of their tradi- 
 tion. With this, however, we have here no concern, but 
 dismiss the topic, by referring the curious reader to the 
 memoir of M. d'Anville on ancient Dacia.* Following 
 murder and rapine, as a profession, these roving de- 
 predators (de sangue Rumena — de sanguine Romano), 
 as they were proud to believe, would scatter themselves 
 over Hungary, carrying off the inhabitants with their 
 cattle and goods. Their numbers, in their excursive 
 hostilities, were to be counted by thousands and tens 
 of thousands, which successively swept the fertile country, 
 like a swarm of locusts, carrying dismay and desolation 
 on their wing. Having loaded themselves with what- 
 ever may have escaped the infidel or the Austrian,! they 
 were immediately lost amid the impervious woods and 
 morasses, which overspread the face of the land. Like 
 a wave which had spent itself on the beach, they would 
 withdraw, without let or hindrance, to the dominions 
 wlience they issued, and so leave room, after a brief in- 
 terval, for the inroad of fresh bands of their countrymen, 
 equally greedy of spoil and slaughter : "■ What the lo- 
 cust left, was devoured by the palmer- worm ;" while, year 
 after year, the booty grew less and less, and the glean- 
 ings became scarcer. These several parties of marauders 
 would form so many nuclei, round which the refuse of 
 Hungary, the evil disposed of all descriptions, were glad 
 
 * Consult also Eugel. Commentat. De Expedit. Trajani ad Danubium 
 et origine Valachonim, p. 283. seq. 
 
 t The Christian invaders of this distracted land seem to have emu- 
 lated the Turk in their treatment of what they ought to have held in 
 reverence. *' Regni nostri pars quae Austriam attingit," writes King 
 John to Pope Clement Vll. — " solo est aequata; omnes ecclesiae, 
 proventusque eorum ab adversariis dissipantur ; neque humanorum neque 
 divinorum habitus est respectus." — Given in the Melange Historique de 
 Noel Moreau. See also the supplication of the " Status et Ordines 
 Regni," held at Presburg, to Ferdinand. It is given in the Hist, 
 de Hongrie, torn, i liv. ii. p. 144. et suit. 
 
 VOL. I, C
 
 26 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 to range themselves, if not out of lawless sympathy, yet 
 for the sake of protection ; — such as being gradually 
 accustomed to live by plunder, were become incapable 
 of industry ; such as were driven by these unrepressed 
 depredations to shake off all bands of government, 
 whom their natural disposition, or grinding hardship and 
 an embittered spirit, rendered fit for any service, in which 
 they could, at the same time, gratify their vengeance, 
 and find subsistence — the disbanded Dolbatsche, or sol- 
 dier of infantry — the escaped criminal, — and more par- 
 ticularly the ^awac^z, or cattle-keeper — the Gidya, or 
 cattle-driver. These, inured to toil, their lives nurtured 
 by long impunity and the incitements of penury to 
 crime, would consort with the Wallachian invader, and 
 join him in his ravages of their native land ; or, remain- 
 ing stationary, would indicate, as the price of their ow^n 
 i mm unity, the fittest persons and places for attack ; of 
 course selecting those, by whose destruction private 
 pique might be safely gratified, or the love of pillage 
 best be satiated. Half the csardas, or inn-keepers, in 
 Hungary were in league with these robbers, either as 
 receivers or as accomplices. Even those serfs and herds- 
 men, who, to all appearance, obtained their livelihood 
 by honest industry, were more or less connected with 
 the foreign bands — sometimes to the extent of accom- 
 panying them in their predatory incursions through the 
 provinces. Their miserable want of education, or rather 
 the peculiar education induced by habit and circumstance, 
 which these peasants received from their youth upwards, 
 acted as an initiation and stimulus to a life of desperate 
 depravity. The untaught youth, constantly pasturing 
 their sheep or swine in the wooded solitudes of Erdely, 
 seldom, during the long summer, approached the habita- 
 tions of men. There was something in the very immen- 
 sity of the forests, by which they w^ere surrounded, that 
 impressed on the soul a feeling of sublime immunity. Se- 
 cluded from all observation, they w^ere often tempted to
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 27 
 
 try their hand at a theft, whether it were of cattle or of 
 kreutzners, and to shed the blood of deer or buffalo ; or, 
 in an extreme case of precocious genius, perhaps to take 
 aim with the axe, they always carried about them, at the 
 travelling Jew or butcher. 
 
 Such juvenile feat made an admirable inition for the 
 incipient depredator and assassin. It consequently 
 sometimes happened, that the Hungarian peasant, from 
 being, at first, the mere spy, or, at most, the tolerated com- 
 rade of these warlike free-bands, would himself attain 
 command and authority in their armies ; and instances 
 are recorded where, by his abilities and valour, he has 
 risen to the rank of Richter, or independent chieftain, 
 over a body of many thousand troopers. Whenever 
 this was the case, the circumstance was found to operate 
 with some advantage to the wTetched community, so 
 long the prey of these lawless depredators. The arms 
 of the Wallachians were found capable of being di- 
 rected with effect against the common enemy, as was 
 exhibited to their immortal glory, by the decisive vic- 
 tory they obtained over Bajazet, at Tour Rouge, near 
 Hermanstadt in 1492. But the aid and good service 
 which the Roman barbarians experienced from the iso- 
 lated co-operation of the Hungarian cattle-keepers and 
 other peasantry, was trifling when compared with the 
 advantage they reaped, from associating to them the bands 
 of the Cyganis, or, as they were more commonly called 
 in Transylvania, the Pharaoh Nepek.* 
 
 The mention of these people opens a remarkable chap- 
 ter in the history of mankind, though it would lead us 
 too far out of our way were w^e to do more, than barely 
 enter upon it. 
 
 All the world knows that, at the commencement of the 
 hfteenth century, swarms of strangers, usually deno- 
 minated gipsies {Homines fur tis in primis inte?ifi), visited 
 
 * Pharaoh's people, 
 c 2
 
 28 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 most of the countries on the continent. They gave them- 
 selves out for Egyptian pilgrims, but it clearly appears, 
 from the researches of Grellman and others, that their 
 representation must have been untrue. From what 
 quarter of the world, they originally migrated still re- 
 mains a disputed point. The probability, however, is, 
 they were one of the itinerant tribes of India, whose 
 course reason or fortune directed to the banks of the 
 Nile, thence to transport themselves, shortly after, into 
 Europe. The exterminating war of Timur Beg might 
 have driven these Hindus to seek refuge in the Persian 
 desert, whence their wanderings eventually led them, over 
 the Isthmus of Suez, into Egypt. However this may 
 prove, it is certain that on their first appearance in 
 Europe, these vagrants inspired sentiments, wholly dif- 
 ferent from what are associated with their reputation at 
 tlie present day. Their assumption of the character of 
 pilgrims, at once elicited respect and obtained them pro- 
 tection ; and they were hailed with uncommon admira- 
 tion wheresoever they showed themselves. Hungary and 
 Transylvania were their high route into Germany, and 
 thousands of families chose to make a permanent settle- 
 ment in those territories, instead of accompanying their 
 brethren further on their endless exody. 
 
 If the period, at which we have taken up this history, 
 was not free from the reproach of superstition, neither 
 was it so servilely credulous an age, as were the centuries 
 preceding. The system of astrology still retained its 
 fascinating hold on the imagination ; and one can hardly 
 wonder at it, for who does not feel how sublime a thing 
 it must have been to entertain a faith in the speculation 
 of heaven ? But, as knowledge and science progressed, 
 the fictions of alchemy were fast clearing away, like the 
 igneous exhalations of the earth dissipating in the out- 
 breaking light of the ^' new-born day." Witchcraft, and 
 all the collateral arts of necromancy, were consigned to 
 merited opprobrium, and their professors to most un-
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 29 
 
 merited persecution ; and, amongst other sources of de- 
 lusion, some time laid aside, as being out of date, by the 
 more sagacious futurity-mongers, was that peculiar spe- 
 cies of sorcery denominated chiromancy, which the Cy- 
 ganis or gipsies, having picked up in the age of which 
 we treat, immediately adopted as a distinguishing craft 
 and characteristic. In addition to this, they boasted a 
 familiarity with the secret virtues of plants and simples, 
 and professed to exorcise evil spirits out of bewitched 
 cattle, by means of roots and amulets, known only to 
 themselves. Moreover, during many years they mono- 
 polized the trade of gold- washing, that is, collecting and 
 clearing the particles of the aranyos f'dveny , or auriferous 
 sand deposited in the shoals and sandbanks of the Olt, 
 Dobrieza, Drave, and those other rivulets and streams 
 of Hungary and Transylvania, whose beds are to this day 
 sifted occasionally in search of the precious ore. 
 
 The Cyganis seem to have naturally possessed very 
 acute and delicate perceptions of sound, so that, be- 
 sides the means of emolument already detailed, their 
 musical talents, held in no light estimation by the un- 
 taught peasantry of Hungary, conjured at least as many 
 kreutzers into their pockets, as the case called for. They 
 were occupied at intervals in making iron tools, horn 
 spoons, baskets, and other articles of a similarly trivial 
 and ingenious description ; and, after a while, they be- 
 came especially celebrated for their singular taste and 
 facility in fabricating the instruments of war ; in return 
 for which manufacture, and partly in recompence for 
 their bravery and personal achievements, whole hordes 
 of these Hindostanee would frequently receive passports 
 and seals from the princes or magnats, whom they aided 
 with their workmanship, or under whom they served. 
 
 In Transylvania, the ruling waivodes had long granted 
 letters of protection to these artificers in iron work. 
 Many of such safe-conducts of the located Cyganis are 
 still extant, one of which we quote, as bearing upon the
 
 30 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 history we have in hand. It is a document of King- 
 Ladislas, dated 1496, for the knowledge of which we are 
 indebted to Friedwalsky , who cites it in his "Mineralogy." 
 Therein it is ordered, " That every officer and subject, 
 of whatever rank and condition, do allow to Count 
 Thomas Polgar, leader of five hundred tents of wandering 
 Cyganis, free residence every where, and on no account 
 to molest him or his descendants, or his or their people, 
 because they had prepared military stores for the Bishop 
 Sigismond at Fiinfkirchen. — Ladislas.'' 
 
 In the above record the reader may, perhaps, be sur- 
 prised to find the rank of Count attributed to the con- 
 ductor of a gang of gipsies. But it seems on their first 
 arrival in Hungary, that each tribe had its own leader, 
 distinguished by the proud title of Knight, Count, Duke 
 or King, and through whose medium they were more 
 readily summoned by the officers of state, when their ser- 
 vices were required against the infidel. These people 
 formed a kind of society or government among them- 
 selves, which set all more enlightened legislation at defi- 
 ance, and, though ill-fitted for executing any extensive 
 military enterprise, still any opposition to their progress 
 or their will was not lightly to be risked. The son of the 
 aforesaid Count Polgar, who, besides being the heredi- 
 tary leader of five hundred tents of gipsies, was invested 
 with unlimited authority over all the inferior chiefs of the 
 Cygani tribes in Hungary, was the celebrated Alaric 
 Polgar, also passing by the name of Count Ragotzy, with 
 whom the reader will presently become acquainted. That 
 gipsy leader was of another metal from his father; so 
 far from furnishing military stores in aid of the govern- 
 ment, we find reason to believe that he exerted all his 
 influence over his predatory subjects to inculcate disobe- 
 dience to the laws as the prime obligation of a Cygani, 
 and the necessity of his position in society. The various 
 tribes, who, beneath the rule of Count Thomas Polgar, 
 were so many parties of pilferers and fortune-tellers, in-
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 31 
 
 variably tolerated, and frequently (as we have seen in one 
 instance) placed under the especial protection of the 
 authorities, assumed under the auspices and aspiring con- 
 duct of his son, the formidable attitude of leagued and 
 organized bands of robbers, scorning all resistance, and 
 setting every attempt at defiance to subject and civilize 
 them. One principal cause of this impunity, as we be- 
 fore intimated, is to be sought in the division of parties, 
 incident to a feeble or restricted executive, and to the 
 otherwise frightful state of public affairs, where all the 
 bands of social life seemed resolved back into their ori- 
 ginal elements ; however, the chief confidence of these 
 wild and lawless companies rested in the synchronal ex- 
 istence of the Wallachian and Moldavian banditti, with 
 many of whose Richters, Alaric Polgar had formed a 
 strict and federative alliance. But any combined plan 
 of operation, having for its object the imposition of 
 a new dynasty over the Magyar nation, and the exal- 
 tation of the conqueror, does not appear hitherto to 
 have been in the contemplation of Count Alaric. His 
 views, as we have said, were confined to scouring and 
 devastating the land, not to conquering and subjecting 
 it. The gangs of the Cyganis, whose tactics were much 
 more adapted for plunder and marauding than for open 
 warfare, wandered up and down, committing spoil upon 
 the country, and perpetrating with impunity the wildest 
 excesses of oppression. Their numbers were often very 
 inconsiderable, and if ever they met (which was but sel- 
 dom) with any opposition, they avoided coming to a ge- 
 neral engagement, by betaking themselves to flight. Very 
 many Moldavian cliiefs, were, in like manner, used to 
 assemble their independent tribes, sometimes confining 
 their ravages to the neighbouring province of Transylva- 
 nia, at others spreading themselves over the fertile vales 
 of Lower Hungary; but in all cases, their incursions 
 were so sudden, that, even in the most distant quarter, 
 the absence of the enemy was no reason why any district
 
 32 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 should esteem itself in safety. Still, as much as possi- 
 ble, they would keep within a day or two's summons of 
 their great richter, who, at the period of the opening of 
 our story, was Peter, Prince of Moldavia, famed for his 
 courage and strength of body, but stigmatized by con- 
 temporaries with the epithet of bloody. 
 
 The danger of this universal licence was derived from 
 the factious and turbulent spirit of the kingdom, which 
 nothing contributed more to increase or to encourage, 
 than the precarious allegiance of the feudal noble, who, 
 in too many instances, not merely submitted to their ex- 
 actions, but joined himself in amity with the Wallachian 
 richter, and the gipsy count, either for his own imme- 
 diate safety, or to serve purposes, even more inexcusable. 
 Ever engaged in hereditary or personal animosities, or 
 confederacies with his neighbours, and free from all sa- 
 lutary restraint, during this temporary dissolution of 
 sovereign authority, he would sally from his castle, some- 
 times in quest of plunder, sometimes of private resent- 
 ment and revenge. The desolate condition of the country, 
 over which these various and savage foes extended the 
 fangs of their rapacity, might, to adopt the figue of Gib- 
 bon, have been compared by Homer to the two lions 
 growling over the carcase of a mangled stag.* Such a 
 disorganization of society became no slight obstacle to 
 the introduction of a regular administration of justice. 
 The loose police, incident to the feudal constitution, was , 
 a machine of dangerous and delicate management, ever 
 apt to recoil upon the hand which held it. Being wholly 
 inadequate to cases of emergency, it was, at the period 
 of history which we are reviewing, every where falling 
 into disuse. In Hungary this was more particularly ex- 
 emplified ; there the barons rarely acted in union, and, 
 
 XtovQ' MQ dijotvOtjTjjv, 
 
 On ovpeoQ KOQ\f(p'i)m Trepi Krajjieveg e\ao(pio 
 AjjKpuj TTtivaovTS j-isfcc (ppoveovTS fxaxsaQov.
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 33 
 
 though for the most part capable of laughing to scorn 
 any attack on their own strong holds, the prcedia or terri- 
 tory of each was too inconsiderable in itself to support 
 the burden of a regular military force, for purposes of 
 general security. As the strength of the government, 
 under existing circumstances, was ill able to cope with 
 so enormous a grievance, Martinuzzi was led to remedy 
 it by policy. Their habits of war and depredation had 
 given the Wallachian bands experience, hardiness and 
 courage, and by enlisting in his body of mercenaries 
 many of their choicest captains, he, in a great measure, 
 removed from that nation, at once the temptation and 
 the ability of much troubling Transylvania. He deferred 
 the vindication of justice, and to endeavour the re- 
 establishment of order in the community to a more fa- 
 vourable juncture, when, by the assistance of one of the 
 neighbouring powers (without whose co-operation indeed, 
 the attempt seemed hopeless) these licentious brigands 
 might either be expelled the country, or tamed to the 
 salutary yoke of law and government. Having thus, 
 with whatever tediousness, initiated the reader into the 
 peculiarities of the times and countries, which make the 
 foundation of our story, we will no longer detain him 
 from its perusal. 
 
 END OF THE INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS. 
 
 c 5
 
 34 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. 
 
 '' He gave him first his breeding, 
 
 Then showered his bounties on him like the hours, 
 That, open-handed, sit upon the clouds, 
 And press the liberality of Heaven 
 Dow^n to the laps of thankful men." 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 The sober sunshine of autumn had succeeded to the 
 heats of summer, and the undulating tracks of forest, 
 which, spreading themselves over a vast region of country, 
 gave a name to the theatre of our history,* had begun to 
 assume that dappled livery, with which the varied year 
 would fain disguise and beautify its decay, when we take 
 leave to commence our narrative. 
 
 It wanted an hour of midnight, and the moon was sail- 
 ing high overhead, and the vast curtain, which shuts in 
 heaven, might have made a queen long to deck her with 
 a mantle of that same regal hue, begemmed with starry 
 ornaments, when the attention of a sentinel, who was 
 pacing an outer rampart of the city of Hermanstadt, was 
 attracted by the echo of horses' hoofs in the distance, and 
 soon after, by the approach of three horsemen towards 
 
 * Erd61y is derived from the word Erdeu, signifying in the Hunga- 
 rian tongue, Forest. See Apend. Epist. de Orig. Hungar. Thur6cz, 
 however, it should be observed, gives another origin to the word. — See 
 Chron. Hungar.
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. J35 
 
 -fey 
 
 the western barrier. They came on at length, and, 
 having demanded admittance within the gates, were in- 
 formed, that they must wait without till morning. This 
 intimation excited the manifest wrath of the equestrians, 
 who loudly vented their indignation on the hapless head 
 of the sentinel, — consigning the city, its regent, and in- 
 habitants to the tender mercies of that personage, who 
 for the last eighteen hundred years, has had a monopoly 
 of such sort of ofterings. 
 
 " I tell you what, good sir travellers," exclaimed the 
 sentinel, whom the pertinacious abuse and riotous con- 
 duct of the men, at length began to exasperate beyond 
 his modicum of patience : ''if you don't desist from this 
 clamour, I shall be under the unpleasant necessity of send- 
 ing a quietus in the shape of a leaden bullet through 
 your jerkins." 
 
 " At your pleasure, friend," replied one of the trio 
 thus threatened, at the same time advancing his horse 
 out of the shadow of a jutting barbacan into the moon- 
 light. "Level your musket; if you hit us we will trouble 
 no further ; but depend upon't we'll not cease from de- 
 manding admittance till you do." 
 
 The person who thus spoke was apparently in the 
 prime of manhood, and clad in the knightly armature of 
 an Olah, or roving chief of Wallachia. The other two 
 horsemen appeared his followers. 
 
 " Well, only to think how fool-hardy some folks are," 
 exclaimed the sentinel ; " but that's no concern of mine ; 
 I must do my duty ; so, mark me, you, careering there 
 so jauntily, there's a cloud now covers the moon's disk ; 
 if, ere she shows her face again, you be not out of the 
 reach of my carabine, why take the consequence, that's 
 all," and with these words the man presented his piece. 
 
 The horsemen set up a loud and long laugh — a laugh 
 of contemptuous defiance. Even while the sound rung 
 in the welkin, the moon slowly emerged beyond the 
 flimsy veil which obscured her beams, and as the last
 
 36 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. ^ 
 
 rim of the planet broke from the sheltering cloud into 
 the immeasurable ether, the man fired. There was the 
 flash — the report, and then the eddying smoke hid for a 
 few seconds from the sentinel the fallen figure of the 
 liorseman, at whom he had aimed, and whom he natu- 
 rally apprehended he had shot. What then was his 
 amazement, as the atmosphere cleared, to behold him 
 sitting his horse with as firm a seat, and apparently as 
 unconcerned as if his life had not just been placed in 
 such imminent risk. Immediately the sentinel con- 
 ceived a more exalted opinion of those clamorou's 
 equestrians, and remembering the hour chosen for their 
 visitation, and their apparent impassableness to fire-arms, 
 he began to entertain some vague apprehension that 
 they were three spirits riding this upper world, in the 
 guise of carnal warriors. While these suspicions were 
 producing sad confusion in the head of the simple senti- 
 nel, the captain of the night-guard came upon the scene, 
 and demanded the cause of the signal he had just heard. 
 The sentinel made his report. After a minute's thought, 
 the subaltern addressed himself to the horseman, who was 
 nearest, and acquainted him, in more urbane terms, than 
 had been hitherto employed, with the utter impossibility 
 of his being admitted within the city that night. 
 
 The individual to whom this was addressed, inclining 
 his body forward, and, laying his hand upon the mane 
 of his steed, made answer, by inquiring whether the 
 speaker were the captain of the night-guard ? Being in- 
 formed that such was the fact, the horseman rejoined in 
 an authoritative voice, " Well, then, do you understand, 
 I must have speech of the lord regent to night : I bear 
 missives from Coloswar ; so do not oppose our entrance, 
 lest worse come of it." 
 
 " W^hy," returned the subaltern, as if deliberating with 
 himself, " were Father Dominick in the way — but no," 
 he added, lowering his voice to a tone of significance.
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. J/ 
 
 " his reverence hath ceased to walk o' nights, as was his 
 wont." 
 
 This intelligence, for some reason or other, seemed to 
 strike with an electric force on the ears of the eques- 
 trian ; who, starting his horse forward, as if thrown ofF 
 his guard, exclaimed, " What's that you say, Hubert?" 
 The officer, without paying any attention to this interro- 
 gatory, cast a side and scrutinizing glance at his com- 
 rade, and resuming his official reserve, drily remarked, 
 '* I repeat, sirs, 'tis impossible !" but ere the words were 
 well out of his mouth, the horseman impetuously inter- 
 posed — 
 
 " Impossible ! I tell you, I will lie this night in yon- 
 der citadel, though all the fiends of hell gainsaid me I 
 Where is Father Dominick — not walk o'nights ! — what 
 means he ? Is he mad ? All Hungary up, and Transyl- 
 vania in flames, and Father Dominick not out upon the 
 ramparts — you must lie i'your throat, man ! And such 
 a night, not to steal him from his bed of thorns ! — Can I 
 believe my ears ? — the Archduke in arms, and he not 
 walk the ramparts ! Oh, 'tis palpably false ! The sultan 
 in Belo-rade, and Father Dominick bed-ridden ! Then, 
 indeed, are we on the eve of some convulsion of the ele- 
 ments that constitute the mind of man. But though all 
 nature were in universal uproar, I will speak with a voice, 
 might rive the solid earth, and pierce the depths of chaos 
 a4id of darkness, — a voice more fearful than the thunder ; 
 and though the towers of Hermanstadt topple from their 
 foundation at the dread subject of our parley, it shall 
 not interrupt me ; though the grave of John of Zapola 
 yawn, and give up its sheeted relics at our least whisper, 
 — though this be, which cannot well be otherwise, still I 
 swear. Father Dominick and I ivill balance accounts this 
 night — I swear it ! If I be perjured, it is for him to 
 tremble — So be it, in God's name !" 
 
 " Amen, in God's name!" murmured a hollow and
 
 38 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 well-known voice in the speaker's ear. He started ; then, 
 with a strong effort to recover his self-possession, he slowly 
 turned his head. The response came from Father Domi- 
 nick, who stood close beside the knight. 
 
 The latter, it appeared, had been so hurried away by 
 the extreme violence of his feelings, and was so lost to 
 all outward objects, whilst his spirit found vent in lan- 
 guage, not less mysterious than impassioned, that he had 
 not remarked the being, whose presence he so earnestly 
 insisted upon, detach himself from the stretch of brush- 
 wood and huge masses of rock, which were scattered 
 over the heath, and glide with an admirable mixture of 
 silence and celerity, towards the base of the ramparts ; so 
 that it was not till the holy father was close upon him, 
 and had delivered the response we have just related, 
 that he became aware of his proximity. The torrent 
 of rage and invective in which the chieftain had just 
 indulged, contributed to throw him off his balance. 
 He could not readily bear up against the reflux of his 
 feelings. The man, whose appearance he invoked with 
 such indignant violence, having, like a spectre, obeyed 
 the summons of his enchanter, and acknowledged the po- 
 tency of the spell, awed him back in spite of himself, 
 into comparative insignificance. He lost somewhat of 
 his wonted self-possession, and his dissolute nature stood 
 abashed and humbled from its late passion, merely, as it 
 would seem, by the overpowering appulse of the loftier 
 mind of the ghostly father. 
 
 The monk was wrapped " from top to toe," in the flow- 
 ing habit of his order, girded to his shape by a strong 
 cord, which, suspending a leaden crucifix of uncommon 
 size, fell downwards to the edge of the robe. With his 
 arms folded over his breast, his head bent, and his cowl 
 extended over his face, he abided the determination of 
 the chieftain. Finding, however, that that individual, 
 apparently overwhelmed with the consequence of his own
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. 39 
 
 violence, made no attempt to break the silence, he himself 
 shortly spoke. 
 
 " Dismiss thine attendants," he said in a hollow under 
 voice: " they can wait for orders at St. Agatha, you will 
 follow me." 
 
 Having thus delivered himself, the monk slowly moved 
 away amid the thickets and underwood, which skirted the 
 extensive heath in the quarter, from which he had first 
 entered upon the scene. His form was soon after dis- 
 cerned in the half distance, — his apparel blending with 
 the lights and shadows of the ground, like a spectre 
 slowly vanishing away. For some moments the chieftain 
 noted him, appearing and disappearing where the stunted 
 tufts of arbutus and magnolia broke the uniformity of the 
 moon-light heathy, until the brow of a rising ground con- 
 cealed him from his view; then, as if lost in inward 
 musing: — '' No," he muttered between his teeth; '* no, 
 he dare not play me false, though the stake he holds, and 
 the pinnacle he aims at, might make such a man as he 
 venture boldly, and my cognition of his position, per- 
 chance is the sole drawback between him and impunity: — 
 um! I'll see to it:" — and the chieftain raised his voice, 
 addressing himself to the captain of the guard. 
 
 There was a peculiarity in his tone and manner, that 
 implied more than the literal purport of his words, as he 
 said: — *' Here, friend, receive this packet and a sealed 
 box I have under my dolman, either of which contains a 
 treasure dear to this land as is her sainted crown. If, ere 
 to-morrow eve I do not, in my proper person, reclaim them* 
 of you, fly with them to the queen, the queen regent, — you 
 mark me? — give them into her royal keeping, and, as you 
 would ensure the promise of Unna, and value the cause 
 you are pledged to, into no hands else. 'Tis a sealed 
 commission, will you accept it? — speak." The oflScer 
 intimated his consent by a slight inclination of the head. 
 " Descend, then, the turret stairs, and take them, and do
 
 40 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 you, Reginald and Walter, return to the drawbridge of 
 St. Agatha. Should you not hear from me before the 
 next sun-set, back to the Moldavian quarters, and tell 
 Peter to look to himself, and to remember me as one sa- 
 crificed for his advantage; and when next you see Unna, 
 give her this token," and drawing from his finger a ring, 
 he handed it to one of the men, "'twill suflfice — or if you 
 say a word, be it only — revenge! Have a care of my 
 gallant grey, meanwhile, and away with ye." 
 
 He consigned the reins of his barded destrier into his 
 follower's hands, who, with his comrade, immediately re- 
 tired at a pace, which soon carried them out of view, and 
 the receding echoes of their horses' hoofs died away on 
 the breeze, as an iron-grated wicket or sallyport, partially 
 hidden from view by a massive advanced work of the 
 barbacan, was thrown open by the officer who had just 
 descended the stair, leading from the battlement to the 
 archway beneath. He reached out his hand through the 
 interstice to take the packet from the chief, who, after 
 the man had received it, thrust through the aperture the 
 heavier article, a small, though strongly secured iron box, 
 previously enfolded in his muster-piece. " Be careful 
 of them, sir," said the chief, in a low, but impressive voice; 
 *' and remember," he proceeded solemnly, '' they are to 
 be delivered into the queen mother's hands, and hers 
 only. On your allegiance! Hubert;" he added, in an 
 emphatic whisper ; " and, as you would fulfil the prophesy 
 of Unna, do this." The attentive federary made no 
 reply, but directly closed the wicket. 
 
 *^ So," thought the chief, " I am armed at all points for 
 the outrance ;" and he turned away from the barbacan to 
 follow Father Dominick; when, at the distance of a few 
 paces from the arched entrance underneath the porch, 
 his eyes lit upon the ill-omened figure of the very person 
 in question, who, quite motionless, stood with his face 
 inclined towards the ground, and his dark robes folded 
 round him. " There again!" thought the dark-eyed
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. 41 
 
 chieftain, at the same time advancing towards the mj'ste- 
 rious monk: "There again! he starts before my sight 
 like an echo, and gives a palpable form to my unexpressed 
 misdoubtings. Courage, Ragotzy ! let not thy heart fail 
 thee now. Think what mighty issues are on the cast ; that 
 cause is lost already, whose champion's spirit quails ere 
 a blow be struck: then, come what can come, the worst 
 is " He paused in his mental argument as he stood be- 
 side Father Dominick, who remarked, as they both slowly 
 directed their cautious steps along a scarce-tracked, al- 
 though not precipitous path, which led to the summit of a 
 rising ground. '^ I thought, from your delay, you might 
 have changed your mind, and I came back, hoping to find 
 it so. It had been better ; you can have nothing to say be- 
 fitting me to hear: our paths lie as far asunder as earth 
 is from heaven. Would you would yet pause! you 
 rashly venture your footing on the verge of a dizzy 
 precipice; young man, t'would try a sounder head than 
 yours, and you may be nearer the brink than you 
 imagine. Leave Hermanstadt — for both our sakes t'were 
 wiser." 
 
 "For yours 1" interrupted the other in a low under- 
 growl, which, although scarcely intended by the speaker, 
 reached the ears of the Holy Father, who continued : — 
 
 " I repeat. Count Ragotzy, for both our sakes, — your's 
 temporally; mine, perhaps," — his voice trembled, and 
 breaking off, he added in a milder tone : "let this matter 
 end here, and I will forgive the past — the present !" 
 
 " The past, the present, and the future," said the other, 
 repeating the sentence significantly, and laying a strong 
 accent on the last word — occulta Veritas tempore patet ! — 
 There was a long and solemn pause — both parties re- 
 lapsed into the silence of unuttered thought, holding com- 
 munion with their hearts, whilst a crowd of conflicting 
 retrospection, thronged on their memories, and appre- 
 hensions of approaching evil, crude, undefined, and 
 dreadful, flitted, as if from a new opened source, like
 
 42 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 vague glimpses of the mysterious future, across their 
 brains. 
 
 Having reached the summit of the gentle eminence, 
 they stopped short — a thicket composed of stunted brush- 
 wood (the meagre efforts of a soil unfavourable for vege- 
 tation,) and a few dwarf trees, now besprent with dew and 
 moon-light, that mingled in prismatic beauty, crowned 
 the ascent. There, halting for a while, neither seemed 
 disposed to interrupt the mutual silence, or to start the 
 momentous subject they were on the point of discussing, 
 and which evidently was still the uppermost in both their 
 minds. From the point of view where they reposed them- 
 selves, they might behold, at a little distance, the towers 
 and ramparts of the ancient Cibinium. The city reared 
 its warrior battlements against the sky, and relieved by 
 gloomy shadows, stood out sternly fair, with its double 
 walls and glacis. It was situate, not far from the course 
 of the rapid Olt, which, bending gracefully round the 
 south side of the battlements with a broad sweep, shot 
 from thence that beautiful stream of water, commonly 
 called the Zibin, into the heart of the city; whilst beyond 
 to the left, in mid moon-light, loomed against the starry 
 horizon, like the dominating genius of the place, the 
 frowning donjon-keep, to which Herman of Nuremberg 
 gave his name. This night-view, though not extensive, 
 was a beautiful one, and withal serene and solemn in its 
 loveliness. Before them stretched the distant perspective 
 of a wild moor, which was closed by an amphitheatre of 
 swelling woodland, clothed in an atmosphere of yellow 
 mist. A strange solitude reigned over that dark brown 
 heath, intersected with masses of rock and furze, and che- 
 quered and dotted here and there with plots of close green- 
 sward, bedecked with hoary rime, that, in the universal 
 quiet, glittered like diamonds beneath the broad light of 
 the silvery moon : solitude and silence, for the deep re- 
 pose of the scene was undisturbed by any sound, save 
 what was most in unison with the character of the night, —
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. 43 
 
 save the low lulling clink of an unseen rill, tinkling under 
 some neighbouring covert, or the soothing melancholy 
 gurgling of many a mountain-streamlet far away, fret- 
 ting and foaming in their contracted ravines. These 
 made choral music on the lulled ear, like the mingled 
 voices of the Numina loci — the rustica Numina Fauni. 
 All nature seemed to sleep in the deep tranquillity of 
 moon-light. — Occupied in planting their intellectual 
 batteries, and as it were, furbishing their mental armoury 
 for the onset, the monk and his companion might be 
 likened to two gladiators in the arena ; each confident 
 in his own courage and prowess, yet unwilling to be the 
 first to throw down the gage of defiance, which must 
 bring the question of their difference to an issue. So 
 there and thus they stood ; that monk and chieftain, face 
 to face, within a lance's length of each other, — the sole 
 animations visible in the universal quietude. 
 
 After along and fearful silence. Count Ragotzy sought 
 to terminate the deep suspense, as to each other's purpose, 
 under which they laboured — a suspense, the awful calm 
 of which might be said to resemble one of those porten- 
 tous pauses of nature, which precede some dreadful con- 
 vulsion of the elements. " You looked for my arrival to 
 night?" he said; and this w^as delivered interrogatively, as 
 much with the view of breaking the chilly and embarrassed 
 silence, and so obliging his holy companion to speak, as 
 from any doubts respecting the nature of the response. 
 The monk made a slight affirmative motion with his head, 
 and then after a moment added, " Your emissary arrived 
 in Hermanstadt yesterday." 
 
 " How then am I to interpret?" began the chieftain. 
 
 " Hear me, misguided man!" interrupted the other, and 
 though his face worked for a moment, he spoke in a 
 conciliatory tone, — " let me once again condescend to 
 the language of entreaty. Proceed in your present 
 design, be it what it may, no further. By my care 
 of thee in thy boyhood — by my preservation of thy being
 
 44 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 — by the memory of what thou once promised — by 
 the fatal certainty of what thou art — by thy departed 
 innocence, and by all that I have done, and suffered by 
 thy infliction, and for thy benefit ; I charge and adjure 
 thee forego thy terrible, though unknown purpose. 
 Urge me in this, thou threatenest, no further ; I am but a 
 mortal man ; — be advised, Count Ragotzy, I now implore ; 
 but beware ! remember my power, and assay not my 
 temperament beyond bearing." 
 
 The unfaltering spirit of the Count blenched not a jot, 
 while, concentrating all his powers of voice, and all his 
 energies of mind, he replied, " Why these strange con- 
 jurings? 1 am not now to learn how deeply I was 
 formerly indebted to thy benevolence, though I may sus- 
 pect your purpose in exhibiting such superfluous charity ; 
 and be thy claims on my gratitude all you would have 
 them, they cannot exceed the measure of my services 
 to thee." 
 
 '^Monster of insolence and ingratitude!" exclaimed 
 the incensed father — "what on my part, save hate and 
 horror, can there be owing to such an abandoned as 
 thyself?" 
 
 *' Your station, your fair name, your very life," replied 
 the other undauntedly — " they are one and all in my dis- 
 cretion, and for years have been, proud man !" 
 
 "Captain of brigands! take heed," ejaculated the 
 priest with a quivering lip. "Thou dost forget thyself, 
 and knowest not what thou wouldst have. Be warned ere 
 too late. Thou hast said and done too much already for 
 the vile worm to tamely suffer. I have borne infinitely 
 more at your hands, than I ever could have believed was 
 in my nature to endure from aught of woman born. And 
 yet thou dost accumulate thine injuries upon me, as if I 
 were not that I am. I say again, take heed !" 
 
 The chieftain burst into a horrid laugh— a laugh of 
 defiance. — "Who art thou, then?" he exclaimed— " Ha! 
 ha! ha! I hold thee for Father Dominick, the inscrutable
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. 45 
 
 Father Dominick, the dreaded and the dark one ! — but let 
 that pass; I reck not now who thou art, nor indeed what 
 thou seemest: here on this open moor, away from the sight 
 and hearing of man, with nought but these dingles of 
 furze and broom, this wilderness of crag and rock around 
 us, and a clear expanse over our heads. Here at least 
 we are on an equality; here we can declare our inmost 
 souls, as is fitting, and comport ourselves as man ever 
 should with man, free to speak, to strike, — free in the 
 sight of Heaven." 
 
 *' Well then, in God's name, so be it !" returned the 
 monk, fronting the brigand as he spoke, in a calm, yet a 
 hollow voice. " For this once I will borrow patience to 
 listen to you, and will lay aside all reminiscences con- 
 nected with your past behaviour, nor remember auo-ht, 
 save that you and I, face to face, this night, — but not 
 alone, mark me! not alone, Ragotzy ! — stand on this 
 barren heath, for the last time. I will abdicate my 
 rights, and descend from my pinnacle of power ; but for 
 the last time ! Here then, Alaric, with earth, and air, and 
 sky for witnesses, and countless spiritual natures, which 
 are said to love to haunt the moon-lit scenes of earth, 
 for lookers on; let us proceed to business! — with God's 
 finger visibly impressed on all creation, with God's eye, — 
 look up ! How the massive cope of heaven hangs sus- 
 pended over us! — with God's eye (mark me!) on our 
 heart of hearts — why let's to work. If, Count Ragotzy, 
 it own no terrors with which to inspire your soul — perhaps 
 I wrong you. For me — here, take my hand, sir, and judge 
 yourself, if my heart be not faithful to my will; the pulse 
 beats strong and regularly, as in battle, doth it not? — 
 The blood retires not at the contact. Not even in your 
 grasp doth the flesh shrink, Alaric. — I am as calm as 
 sleep — like that hand is my fixed soul and steadfast 
 spirit, — I am as calm as sleep." The speaker paused ; 
 then withdrawing his hand from that of the count, at the 
 same time fixing a commanding and penetrating glance
 
 46 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 upon his countenance, as if to read his inmost heart — he 
 added, "Now, what's your errand ? — Why hath Count 
 Ragotzy left his canvass palaces, and come uninvited, 
 like a disease, to Hermanstadt? On what ground of fell 
 mischief hath he sought to darken my life by his presence, 
 bound as he is, by the indenture of plighted oaths and 
 solemn pledges, to forbear me ? Or rather, let me ask, 
 what sacred office does he wish me to yield up to be 
 abused, like earth, for that which may be wrung from out 
 its vitals ? — What boon comes next, which must be granted 
 to bribe thy venal and injurious tongue? — Nay, sir, I'll to 
 the point. Then in one word (and the monk's voice fell 
 to the modulated cadence proper to the sentiment,) in 
 what way, my son, can I oblige you ? what is it you re- 
 quire at my hands ?" And his manner, whilst delivering 
 this last inquiry, was replete with all the suavity of the 
 most polished breeding and loftiest station. Whatever 
 impression the above address made upon Ragotzy, neither 
 his looks quailed nor his voice trembled, as, confronting 
 the monk, with an eye as unappalled as his own, he 
 replied. 
 
 " I have need of your services : you can oblige me ; 
 and you, of all mankind, only can." 
 
 "How? say on," rejoined the other, with a hollow 
 and cold smile; " I have already showered no slight 
 obligations upon Count Ragotzy, although it accords not 
 with his present mood to acknowledge them ; show me 
 how further I can contribute to his pleasure ; he shall 
 find me, in truth, a very slave to his wishes." — The 
 monk ceased; but Ragotzy replied not. — "Well, well," 
 presently rejoined Father Dominick ; " to what should all 
 this preparation lead ? Tell me, I say, what makes 
 you hitherward ?" 
 
 " Troops were out for the arrest of the prince of 
 Moldavia, and I liked not wintering in their neighbour- 
 hood," answered the count : "'tis too shrewd an atmo- 
 sphere ; you are milder here ; do you understand ?"
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. 47 
 
 ** Milder !" repeated the monk, and he stamped his 
 foot violently on the earth — " you may find this too hot ! 
 
 — Death ! Do you play with me ? What's Peter the 
 Bloody — well does he merit that infamous epithet! — 
 what is he to you? But that's not what you would now 
 speak of; — despatch your present need, sir, and let us 
 part. Is't my purse ?" 
 
 " Your purse!" repeated the Cygani leader ; '* trash ! 
 
 — gold purchases me not, nor my desires. Hark you ! — 
 at once I feel my great importance too deeply, to barter 
 that which makes men wealthy, for any measured dross. 
 I will have visible power — 'tis clear we distrust each 
 other, and shall do so till the fates of both are closer 
 linked, in happiness or " 
 
 " Death !" said the monk. 
 
 " Just so," returned the other, coolly. 
 
 Again there followed a long pause, which was broken 
 by the monk. " Say at once where thy discourse 
 drives," he cried — " disclose thy darker purpose." 
 
 " 1 love," answered the count ; and he spoke hur- 
 riedly, as if the words required a strong effort to be 
 driven from his lips, and that he hardly trusted himself, 
 with the consideration of what he said. 
 
 " You love ?" faintly echoed the monk, recoilino-. 
 " Can you love ?" he presently added, still more in- 
 audibly. 
 
 " A fair Hungarian, whom I would wed," rejoined the 
 other, with the same forced and rapid intonation of voice 
 as before. 
 
 The monk's visage lowered, and the livid lines of his 
 pale countenance, as reflected in the full blaze of ni^-ht, 
 assumed a ghastly hue. With manifestly constrained 
 air, perceiving, by the count's silence, that he awaited 
 his reply, he said — " Well, well ; and you opine, that tiie 
 mediation of an old man like me will aid you in your 
 suit. Albeit these light gauds of gallantry, these gew-o-aws 
 of romance, possess no longer any value in my eyes.
 
 48 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 The breathing of a loveliness doth stir in me no more the 
 fine-discoursing chords, which yield the tongue's rare 
 music. — Ragotzy," proceeded the monk, after a pause, 
 and a mournful cloud overcast his countenance ; " I have 
 done with the prevailing harmony of lovers ; I have 
 done with sounds, that flow betwixt the uttering and the 
 listening heart, to live in this for ever. Once, indeed," 
 and the monk breathed a deep shivering sigh, given to 
 some period that was long past, while the solemn melan- 
 choly that pervaded his whole demeanour affected his 
 voice, and subdued its thrilling tones to an emphasis of 
 the most touching pathos — " Once, indeed, though 'tis 
 lono- aaone since, I thought differently ! Nevertheless," 
 he added, with a determined effort to recover his com- 
 posure, in which he partially succeeded, " if I can help 
 vour suit, I'll do the most I can. Who is the lady ? — 
 let me know her rank." 
 
 •• Bv vour leave I will describe her, so thou shah 
 better judsre," returned the other : — " She is like a 
 Princelv Bird, and is alone ! Her nest is ripe pearl 
 blossoms, twined to wreaths for her to lie in, and 'tis 
 emparadised on a strange promontory of exquisite red 
 rubies, pointed in heaven, but loosed from veins of the 
 earth, in drops, like blood; and round about her crested 
 aerie, columns of diamond and ethereal sapphire lift up 
 and paint the beams, they tempt from above. Valueless 
 stones, hewn from steep rocks with danger, and un- 
 iraao-ined cems, dug i' the heart of the majestic world, 
 wherein they hid, like precious thoughts, spread round 
 her eminent dwelling. Enshrined in a serene and ani- 
 mated atmosphere, which, proper to herself, arrays her 
 in its glorv, she changes the appearances of those 
 dazzlins: rays, which she rejects. Her wings are fea- 
 thered dreams, rosy with early morn, with which some- 
 times she'll sail aloft, buoyed by a troop of airy ac- 
 clamations, sustained and cushioned on the light cloud's
 
 MANLSCPaPT I. 49 
 
 bosom ; at others, heaving with whispers i' the firma- 
 ment, she'll float, lucid and motionless, close to the 
 bounds of the under world ; but never touches earth, 
 though paved with hearts to tread on." 
 
 A deeper and a deeper tint of paleness gathered over 
 the contracted features of the monk, as the count pro- 
 ceeded in his allegorical description, till, at the close, 
 his eyes became fixed, and his whole aspect had in it 
 something cadaverous and sepulchral. " What figure 
 is this ?" said he, at last, with the forced composure of 
 a man, who deprecates his inward agitation becomiiiiT 
 manifest. 
 
 '* Tis a likeness of fancy," returned Count Ragotzy, 
 carelessly ; " but how, think you, may I rob this nest. 
 and own that Royal Bird ? — do you agree ?" 
 
 '* I agree I" repeated the monk, faintly. 
 
 ** Ay," said the count, " you understand me ; — I 
 would adventure this coy and excellent creature — am- 
 bition such as mine may be her suitor." 
 
 *' It is not well," rejoined the other, after a short 
 pause, in a deep low voice, whose singular calmness of 
 enunciation sounded almost preternatural : " It is not 
 well, I say. to aim at a thing so difficult ; — you have 
 not let your eye stab your heart's hopes ? But I'm no 
 (Edipus to see through shadows, and you as yet speak 
 parables." 
 
 " Then, in a word, you must decide whether or not 
 I am to wear this trophy on my bosom, since she is mine 
 if you will lend a syllable," replied the count. 
 
 " I ?" ejaculated the monk, through his pallid com- 
 pressed lips, in a tone of strong, yet half-suppressed 
 emotion. 
 
 " It rests with you, you know," said the other. 
 
 Father Dominick drew nearer to the count ; a conflict 
 of many passions, as indescribable as violent, raged in 
 his bosom ; his eyes for a moment seemed fixed with a 
 ghastly glare on the moon, whose light streamed wanlv 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 MANUSCRIPTS OF LRDELY. 
 
 on his wild countenance, but they saw nothing ; — the 
 next instant he drew his cowl more completely over his 
 face, and, after clenching his hands tightly, thrust his 
 open right palm within the folds of his large coarse 
 habit, — the loose drapery became agitated with the con- 
 vulsive movement. By and by he drew his hand forth, 
 and, as he raised it in the air, the cold ray from above 
 glittered upon a naked blade, which he held right against 
 the back of Ragotzy, while with his teeth set, and every 
 limb convulsing with suppressed emotion, he exclaimed, 
 " With me ? To whom, sir, is it you allude ? Who is the 
 lady?" 
 
 *' She, whom men call queen. Do you understand 
 me now? — the daughter, sir, as we are told, of the late 
 King John and the Queen Isabella," answered the 
 chieftain, with resolved mien and dauntless voice. 
 
 Father Dominick approached two steps nearer the 
 daring Cygani, and grinding his teeth against each other, 
 with an accent, low pitched indeed, but as dreadfully 
 emphatic as the dagger's point which glanced in the 
 moonshine, shrieked in the bandit's ear, "Whom, villain, 
 mean you ? " 
 
 "The Lady Czerina," answered Ragotzy, firmly : "if 
 I wed her not " — 
 
 "Murderer, silence!" burst in the almost maniac con- 
 fessor, at the full pitch of his thundering voice. As 
 he spoke, his lips became horridly blanched with the 
 excess of his emotion, and his eyes seemed literally to 
 start from their sockets, " What, thou !" continued the 
 monk in a volley of wrath; "thou! for whom the 
 coarse wanton, serving by indenture the uses of the 
 common hangman, had she the breath and being of 
 humanity not totally defaced, were too good a mate, 
 thou dare to raise thy presumptuous thoughts to her, 
 who is, — the Queen of Hungary ! Hast thou a working 
 pulse, or art thou not the very principle of crime in- 
 carnate ? Something of this I was led to suspect from
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. 51 
 
 the unlicensed tenor of your missives, — I feared I might 
 hear that from those perjured lips, which it would be- 
 come me, in no point of view, to brook or pardon, but I 
 might not guess to what extremity you would be wrought 
 by your disordered senses. Mark me, rash fool ! — did I 
 not reckon you drunk, or nigh to death — delirious ; by 
 the myriad eyes of the God above us, I'd strike you 
 dumb at my feet!" 
 
 " Rail on ; it shakes not me, altliough 'tis pity so 
 much good brawling should be thrown away," returned 
 the iron-nerved chieftain, with coolness, and smiling 
 grimly : ''nor, I ween, would you deem it politic to ha- 
 rangue so loudly, w^ere we now, instead of standing 
 on this heath, met in the presence-chamber of Queen 
 Isabella and Cardinal Martinuzzi. His eminence, not- 
 withstanding his weight of character and influence, would 
 find all impotent, I suspect, to hinder justice shaK.ing 
 her strong steel at his trusty confessor Father Dominick. 
 Here, hov.-ever, you may exclaim in safety, only this 
 build upon : having once taken my stand, were your voice 
 as the Tuscan trumpet,* and a thousand deaths in the 
 blast, the centre of the earth might crack to hear it, but 
 the sound would fall like a child's whistle on my stead- 
 fast ear, nor shake one jot my purpose. Tush, sir ! I 
 have ventured hither with no fluctuating resolution, on no 
 idle errand; besides I've news for you: the archduke, ere 
 this, I doubt not, has ordered the ambassador Castaldo 
 to head his forces. Charles and the king of France have 
 concluded a truce ; so the whole and undistracted atten- 
 tion of his brother is directed hitherward — he is on the 
 way to Coloswar. Solyman, on the other hand, reviews 
 his Timariotst in the White City.: The flower of the Ot- 
 
 * Kuj^iovoQ log TvpcrrjviKTJQ. See the 17ih line of the Ajax of So- 
 phocles, and notes thereon. 
 
 t A sort of feudal cavalry, who hold their lands on condition of ser- 
 vice. 
 
 t The White City, i. e. Belgrade. 
 d2 
 
 UNlVLRSlTi Or \^^^^'^
 
 52 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 toman empire is assembled round the unfurled sandjak 
 sheriff,^ the vessel of this state lies tossing to and fro, 
 beneath the dark brows of these Cyanean rocks. f One 
 measure alone can avert Transylvania being crushed in 
 the collision of the mighty potentates. Peter of Molda- 
 via, by command of the sultan, hovers even now in 
 martial array upon the borders. With that waivode I, 
 sir, — I, as the leader of the Cyganis, have formed a fe- 
 derative alliance Peter, beyond controul of his lord 
 paramount, will only act (as you have cause to know) 
 as suits his interests ; those interests, influenced by a 
 Cygani maid, whom I have given him for chamber pas- 
 time, are the same as mine. Most of the Wallachian 
 bands, heretofore under the command of Peter are incor- 
 porated into one body, and, with the Moldavian force I 
 before spoke of, will march when and where I dictate. 
 Of all the Wallachian chiefs only one acts independently 
 of Peter and myself, — the young Richter Iwan. What 
 that richter's purposes may be, I cannot even guess, 
 only it is certain, that, for the last few months he has 
 been extraordinarily active in recruiting his force, — but 
 that is from the point. Now, without moving a single 
 
 * The sacred standard of Mahomet, 
 t Cyanean rocks. 
 
 " When Argo passed 
 " Through Bcsphorus, betwixt the justling rocks." 
 
 Milton, Par. Lost, book ii. 
 The " Concurrentia Saxa" of Juvenal. The most elaborate descrip- 
 tion of these rocks occurs in Apollonius Rhodius. See the Argonau- 
 tics, book ii. from 1. 430 to 1. 469. Herodotus has a brief allusion to 
 their floating properties, and Valerius Flaccus mentions, 
 " Errantesque per altum 
 " Cyaneas."' 
 See alsoLucan, 2. 718. and Ovid. Trist, 1, 9, 47. 
 These rocks were called Cyanean f.om their dark colour. The rocks 
 spoken of in the Odyssey, b. xii. v. 61, though somewhat inappropriately 
 styled TzXayKTca, (an epithet so peculiarly applicable to those at the en- 
 trance of the Euxine), would appear to refer to Scylla and Charybdis.
 
 MANUSCRIPT T. 53 
 
 follower of my gang, or bringing to the field a man of 
 our scattered people, but merely by using the powers 
 entrusted to me by the Moldavian waivode, I can com- 
 mand the destinies of Hungary, — ay, the lord regent 
 himself must quail to Alaric Polgar, unless you, sir, find 
 means to induce him to accede to my terms. The wai- 
 vode of Moldavia shall betray either of these mighty ar- 
 maments, — which Martinuzzi pleases, into his hands. It 
 is indifferent to the renegade Peter, whether the Cross 
 or the Crescent vail its glory, — with the power that re- 
 mains, the regent may deal as he thinks fit, — and he is 
 not the man, or I am much mistaken, to let an advan- 
 tage slip by him. Now to the point, — I require no other 
 guerdon, for preserving for the head of the Lady Czerina 
 the heaven -wrought coronet of Hungary, which yet she 
 hath not in her own custody, nor," — and the bandit 
 smiled mysteriously, — " perhaps ever will have. I merely 
 require, I say, the hand of the Lady Czerina." 
 
 Here the brigand paused, as if waiting an answer. 
 What slight accidents, what hair-breadth scapes make 
 the wires which influence and regulate the machinery of 
 our fate ! Once and again, during the above, the monk 
 betrayed an intention to interrupt, but he restrained him- 
 self, and towards the conclusion, slowly and unnoticed, 
 he replaced the dagger within the folds of his habit. 
 Little did Count Ragotzy imagine, by how frail a tenure 
 he held his life that hour. After a long pause, in which 
 the monk seemed to muse deeply, he broke silence. 
 
 ** Is Unna acquainted with your visit to Hermanstadt ?" 
 he said, — " with your proposals?" 
 
 '* No," replied Ragotzy; ''when I resolved on this 
 matter, my mother was absent on one of her usual flitting 
 expeditions." 
 
 " And how, if I do not see cause to accept your ex- 
 acting conditions? What follows? What am I to look to 
 as the alternative ?" demanded the monk. 
 
 " I will tell a tale," said the count; '' a tale, that to
 
 54 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Father Dominick were the same as his death warrant ; 
 and the Lady Czerina," — he stopped, and then subjoined 
 in a more low and inward voice — '' she may perchance 
 ascend a scaffold in lieu of a throne." 
 
 The cheek of the monk grew even more ashy pale for 
 a passing moment, but quickly resumed its previous hue. 
 The expression was succeeded by an indignant and wi- 
 thering glance of the eye: that too passed away; but 
 still there remained some secret inward emotion, as shud- 
 dering, he made answer — " Hah? Is it even so? Some- 
 times Count Ragotzy," he added, after a pause, and his 
 words came couched in a half whisper, whilst a myste- 
 rious and boding smile curved his livid lip; " men dream 
 not what they are about, elancing words, which, like the 
 scorpion's arrow, smite their own breasts, and are but 
 little instruments, — yet say," he proceeded in at once a 
 more audible, and more natural key — ** say, I were dis- 
 posed to rely on this you buzz into my head ; what war- 
 rant have I for your fidelity?" 
 
 " Why, in respect of keeping treaty with you," an- 
 swered Ragotzy, *' I pledge my honour." 
 
 *'Your honour !" repeated the monk, and a scornful 
 smile curled his lip : " See you, Alaric, yon gnarled and 
 stunted pine ?" and he directed the attention of his com- 
 panion to a low tree that had thurst its twisted roots 
 into the rifts and fissures of the rock. 
 
 *' And what of that?" said the other, suffering his 
 looks to light on the knotty complication. 
 
 "Such is your honour," cried the monk; "'tis wi- 
 thered, sir, withered root and branch ! Prithee throw 
 something more than mere breath to incline the balance, 
 lest thy pledge kick the beam." 
 
 " Well then," replied the chieftain; "say I commit 
 my person into your hands, — to-morrow at noon I will 
 present myself before the council to be held at that hour 
 by the lord regent; and what you shall in the mean 
 time prescribe, will I then publicly deliver. Moreover,
 
 MANUSCRIPT I. 55 
 
 I will offer myself as a hostage for the due fulfilment of 
 every iota I stipulate. Does that content you V 
 
 '* Albeit, I am not apt for this to night, we will can- 
 vass it hereafter," said Father Dominick abruptly: — 
 *' 'Tis an affair," he presently subjoined, '' of too great 
 importance to be suddenly concluded; we can, I say,' 
 confer privately another time ; however, at present you 
 require repose, — surely it cannot be, you intend remain- 
 ing without the walls till day-break?" 
 
 " You cannot be ignorant," replied the count, after a 
 moment's hesitation ; " that time calls for instant deci- 
 sion, and you are not wont to lose the advantage of the 
 game for lack of promptitude. In every w^ay hath for- 
 tune armed me, nor will I neglect to use her prevailing 
 weapons. I repeat, in my hands rests the prosperity or 
 downfall of these countries ; but I will not barter the 
 precious spell I hold over their destiny, for any price 
 below the hand of the Lady Czerina. Nay, more, you 
 have the present means to marry me also to her condi- 
 tion ; — no reflected empire for me! I must and will 
 possess the greatest of the deities, positive regal power;* 
 not borrowed, sir, not borrowed, but that which stands 
 on its proper basis — my own absolute will. This, if you 
 deny me, understand, I shall make small scruple, spite 
 of Unna's mandate contrariwise, to help myself out of 
 your fortunes — and your fame. Touching my accompany- 
 ing you at this hour to Hermanstadt ; if so, shall I be in 
 all respects a free agent ?" 
 
 "^ You will not be under my surveillance," answered 
 the priest scornfully. 
 
 " Nor, T trust, will the wretched curs of office, the 
 palatini canes, be allowed to bay at me on account of 
 certain transactions you wot of?" urged the other, bend- 
 ing his dark and penetrating glance on the holy confessor." 
 
 *' Such be our paction," replied the monk ; '* a truce, 
 
 * Ttjv 9eu>v fiiyiaTtjv tx^iv Tvoavvida — <I>0INI22AI
 
 56 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 as to all that's past, shall be observed twixt thee and jus- 
 tice, during your sojourn at Hermanstadt." 
 
 "Then [ attend you," said the count; and Father 
 Dominick led the way down a narrow and abrupt de- 
 scent, intermingled and obscured with rock and tangled 
 brushwood, and but partially dappled, and enlightened 
 by the erratic glimmerings of the moon; at the gorge of 
 this rugged defile, a low postern gate, covered with 
 thickly matted ivy, admitted them into a long dark dreary 
 cavern. This eventually led to a stone staircase, termi- 
 nating in one of the small square towers that studded the 
 wall of the battlement, and which formed a kind of bar- 
 bacan, whence a narrow door gave them access to the 
 ramparts; but one other observation passed between the 
 monk and his champion, ere they reached the castle. 
 
 '* Where do you propose to lodge me?" inquired the 
 count. 
 
 "Id my own suite of apartments," answered the monk. 
 
 " The north turret?" rejoined the other, 
 
 " I presume you can have no objection to take up 
 with your former quarters?" said Father Dominick. 
 
 ♦' None, whatever," replied the Cygani leader, with an 
 air of savage exultation, whilst a fearful radiance, that 
 might be likened to a flickering fire at night-time, lit up 
 his eyes, as for an instant, they gleamed out through the 
 raven locks, with fierce and demoniac joy — " Oh ! none 
 whatever!" and at the word, the two passed into the ci- 
 tadel of Hermanstadt.
 
 57 
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 
 
 Nee rae mea lusit imago 
 
 Irnta nee falsum somnia misit Ebur. 
 
 Clacd. 
 
 The tenor of our tale carries us back to Hubert, who, 
 after having received the packet from Count Ragotzy, 
 forthwith hied him to the esplanade. He thence dis- 
 missed to their quarters the corps de garde, and rejoined 
 the subaltern on the ramparts. The countenance of the 
 poor fellow had hardly recovered the natural rubric, 
 which the apparition of armed men had so lately chased 
 away. Motioning the soldier of the watch to draw close 
 up to his side, Hubert proceeded to address him in a 
 confidential tone. " How is this, Yosa,* he said, ''what 
 terrifies you, man ?" 
 
 " Why," returned the soldier, " how can flesh and 
 blood help being terrified at having to encounter the oc- 
 cupants of the grave — but Christ save us! egress from 
 the city after dusk is prohibited, and I marvel how the 
 holy father passed without the walls." 
 
 " Why you only came to Hermanstadt with our last 
 recruits," returned the other, " else you would have 
 known, that by orders of the regent, the wishes of his 
 €onfessor are to be obeyed to the letter, by every indivi- 
 
 * Yosa ; Joseph. 
 D 5
 
 58 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 dual in the city. No one knows whence comes this 
 ghostly father ; but men will talk, and there be strange 
 things bruited abroad. The suspicious circumstance of 
 the monk's invariably retaining his cowl so low over his 
 face as to hide his features, has afforded occasion for 
 considerable marvel ; men do give out," and the voice of 
 the speaker sunk into a most oracular whisper, " that he 
 you saw even now, is no better and no other than" — 
 here Hubert paused — *' than " 
 
 " Whom ?" demanded the sentry. 
 
 " The Walking Jew T was the reply. 
 
 "Now Holy Saint Mary forefendl" ejaculated the 
 other, crossing himself. 
 
 " Yea, there be evil tongues that do say as much," re- 
 joined the captain. 
 
 " Well, only think of that ! And his eminence to suffer 
 a rascally Jew to order about him in such like fashion— 
 What can be the cause ?" 
 
 ** 'Tis a perilous question, and one hard to answer, al- 
 though there are who make small scruple to propagate 
 their thoughts upon that head ; and, in good truth, the 
 only difference of opinion is, as to the extent of the holy 
 father's communication with the foul fiend." 
 
 " Is it possible ?" said the sentinel. 
 
 " Yea, I have heard it hinted that the reverend gentle- 
 man has his own reasons for never discovering his diabo- 
 lical countenance. You understand, I wis — " the sol- 
 dier here interposed : 
 
 " Now, St. Stephen and the Holy Mother be our 
 defence !" he said ; '^ and if the man be, as you aver — a 
 minister of evil, peradventure the armed sprites, who 
 awhile since made so formidable a demonstration, were 
 in league with the clovenfooted gentleman — only to think 
 of that ! but Holy Virgin ! what was it, captain, you had 
 the temerity to take charge of? — did I hear aright? — a 
 packet, I trow, to deliver to the queen ? The saints pre- 
 serve us ! to think of you being appointed the go-between
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 59 
 
 of her Grace and the Evil One ! By'r Lady ! I would not 
 accept the office for the pope's absolution and benizen to 
 boot." 
 
 ^' Even as I suspected," muttered aside the officer. 
 '' Yosa," he said aloud, gravely turning to the supersti- 
 tious sentinel, *' I request the favour of you, that you will 
 not, for a few days to come, breathe a syllable of what 
 you have this night witnessed." 
 
 " Only to think of that !" returned the soldier ; " verily 
 I am more ready to oblige you herein, than you to require 
 my silence. I mean to forget the whole matter, please 
 the saints !" 
 
 *' Thanks, my friend," said Hubert ; ^' though it is but 
 a brief oblivion, I request of you; be Father Dominick of 
 human mould, or be he commissioned by the Evil One, 
 certes he holds authority in Hermanstadt, and so we were 
 better not publish this night's adventure." 
 
 The sentry, assuming the mien of one impressed with 
 the importance of his charge, silently assented, and Hu- 
 bert and he soon after parted. 
 
 The above information had been thrown out by Hubert 
 as a sort of bridle on the man's loquacity, for the follow- 
 ing day or two ; but the horrors he attributed to Father 
 Dominick were, nevertheless, universally credited in 
 Hermanstadt, at the time our story commences. The 
 research of the historian or the darker industry of the le- 
 gendary, would in vain attempt to pierce through that 
 atmosphere of moral pestilence, which the dubious, but 
 appalling sensation of terror, appertaining to the very 
 idea of the ghostly father, spread around him. 
 
 Excepting the regent, Martinuzzi, and Scipio, a negro, 
 his personal follower, not a soul was known at any time to 
 hold communication with the mysterious confessor. The 
 fact was, that few in Transylvania would have cared for 
 the world's wealth to exchange a syllable with one of so 
 inexplicable a bearing, and respecting whose close identity 
 with the incarnate enemy, such horrid suspicions were
 
 60 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 afloat. To every defamatory whisper superstition gave 
 ready currency ; much of what was repeated from mouth 
 to mouth could not be traced, and was, no doubt, mere 
 idle calumny, based upon very slender foundation : a 
 part — refuted by its own absurdity, must have been 
 absolutely false. No tale of terror can be devised which 
 will not find disseminators ready to embellish, with fresh 
 and aggravated tints, the marvel of the narrative. 
 
 This, perhaps, may tend to explain many of the ac- 
 counts of Father Dominick, which, although of a nature 
 far over-wild and improbable for the sober faith of la 
 raisonfroide, for a long period had been rife in Herman- 
 stadt. Yet, should it be objected that all these rumours 
 were void of foundation, we must demur to the motion. 
 Though calumny may amplify, she seldom invents ; even 
 lier v/ildest exaggerations have commonly some ground, 
 however ordinary and accidental, to go upon. 
 
 Wherever there is any considerable smoke, it usually 
 indicates a latent fire, however smouldered for a time by 
 the volume of its own exhalation. With the view of 
 elucidating the mystery of this man's existence, we 
 have winnowed but, as it were, from the sterile chaff 
 through which they are scattered, one or two incidents of 
 Father Dominick's life, which will scarcely be deemed 
 foreign to our story. Moreover, these having transpired, 
 subsequent to his arrival in the city, would appear to rest 
 upon better evidence than the generality of those horrible 
 passages, of which common report made him the hero- 
 To this extent we think it necessary to render the reader 
 as wise as were the good people of Hermanstadt ; not 
 that we absolutely pledge (as in other points) the w^hite 
 faith of our romantic muse to the dark and mysterious 
 transactions, at which we are about, with fear and trem- 
 bling:, to cast a retrospective glance, (however, inclined 
 ourselves to credit the wild legend,) but because those 
 spcciosa miro.cula, might not be omitted, without affect- 
 ing the even thread of our narrative. The ground we
 
 ^lAXUSCRIPT II. 61 
 
 have chosen, hardly ascends indeed to the level of pro- 
 bability, and trembles, so to speak, under our feet; yet, 
 however singular and obscure these niaterials of our 
 legendary pen may read, that they should once have been 
 propagated and credited, confirms in the strongest man- 
 ner the detestable reputation of Father Dominick ; nor, in 
 our opinion, ought they to be rejected as apocryphal. 
 We were wrong to withhold our belief from the recital of 
 particulars, because they partake of that wild and mys- 
 terious character, w'hich is proper to the era and to the 
 country. Our relation, be it remembered, has been per- 
 petuated by a jealous and uniform tradition, and will be 
 found verified in the local records of that age. We learn 
 then, on referring to a legendary tale of Erdely, (copied 
 from certain MSS. in the Hungarian National Museum, 
 founded by the Graf Szechenyi in 1802 in Pesth,) that 
 on Martinuzzi's introducing the holy father to the capital 
 of Transylvania, and appointing him his confessor, he 
 assigned him a noble suite of rooms within the castle. 
 These were held sacred to his use, and that of his sable 
 follower; no other individual ever venturing to cross 
 their threshold. This suite was only separated from the 
 apartments of the regent, by a long oaken hall or gallery, 
 at one extremity of which two of the anti-chambers, com- 
 mon to both, served as a medium of mutual communica- 
 tion. The attendance of the Ethiop was highly conducive 
 to those feelings of awe and mystery, which surrounded 
 the ghostly father. The two were sometimes compared 
 to those ill-omened animals, unto whom the airs of 
 heaven and the blessed sunshine are said to be hateful — 
 neither was often to be met abroad, and never by anv 
 accident was the cowl of the monk thrown back from off 
 his head. However, for some months past, to the ex- 
 treme terror of the garrison, and the evident improvement 
 of its discipline, this mysterious man had nightly prome- 
 naded for several hours the ramparts of the city. 
 
 One morning, as it is related, shortly after that epoch when
 
 62 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Hermanstadt became the seat of the royal house of Hun- 
 gary, the ladies Emilka and Antoinette, whose appointed 
 duty it was to attend upon the young queen, entered her 
 bed-chamber, according to custom, to awake her grace, 
 and do the requisite devoirs of her toilet. They were not 
 a little startled to find the room deserted, and their 
 astonishment became unbounded on observing, the royal 
 attire to remain precisely where, on being dismissed over 
 night, they had left it lying upon an ottoman. They 
 concluded, besides, from the state of the maiden's couch, 
 that it had been lain in only for a short period. The bed 
 linen appeared very slightly deranged, and all impression 
 of her delicate limbs was nearly obliterated. The queen- 
 mother was summoned ; the palace roused ; the whole 
 court thrown into an agony of tumult and alarm — the war 
 of anxious voices resounded on all sides — the tocsin rang 
 out its alarum peal over the city ; insurrectionary move- 
 ments followed — opinion was not slow in fixing on the 
 secret abettor, if not the author of the abduction 
 of the maiden. Rumour fluctuated from conjecture to 
 conjecture as to the how and wherefore, but the lord 
 regent was the centre about which she revolved. 
 
 It was clearly his policy to remove the heir of the house 
 of Zapola, and the act was exclaimed against, as the cruel 
 precaution of a tyrant, and the practical argument of an 
 usurper. Martinuzzi happened to be absent at the time, 
 on public business. Consternation reigned throughout 
 the day, and sad anxious night closed at length upon the 
 wrath and affright of the inhabitants of Hermanstadt. 
 Soon after the deep dead noon of that night, when still- 
 ness the most profound gathered over the fair palace, and 
 its inmates were either sunk in repose, perhaps dreaming 
 of their royal mistress, or else lay awake, wrapt in super- 
 stitious grief and terror, on account of her mysterious 
 disappearance, — even at that dread hour, suddenly, one 
 long and horrid cry, like unto that which erst resounded 
 in Egypt on her night of doom, roused every individual
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 63 
 
 beneath the royal dome — all listened with a fearful fore- 
 boding of some dire calamity, and presently the soul- 
 harrowing- shriek was repeated. It seemed to issue from 
 the queen's bed-chamber — some few of the terror-stricken 
 hearers rushed thither. A marvel ! The royal maid was 
 sitting up in her bed — she had on her night-dress, whose 
 hue was exceeded in whiteness, by the livid and un- 
 natural paleness which possessed every feature. The 
 streaming gold of her dishevelled tresses flowed negli- 
 gently over her shoulders; a slight tear was visible on her 
 left breast, and streaks of blood stained her pure linen. 
 Her hand was pressed against her forehead, as if endea- 
 vouring to recollect what had past, and settle her dis- 
 ordered senses. Her streaming eyes glared widely and 
 inquiringly, with a sort of frantic eagerness, round the 
 apartment. One or two deep sighs succeeded, and she 
 sunk back on the pillow, closing her eyes, as if to shut 
 out some painful images. 
 
 Isabella directed all present to withdraw, and the 
 beautiful child was left alone with her mother. " What 
 means this, my love, inquired the queen regent?" 
 
 " Thank God, 'tis all a dream," answered Czerina, rais- 
 ing herself on the couch ; " but bless me with a word, do, 
 mother ! or else I cannot have screamed myself quite 
 awake." 
 
 **Czerina! my dear child!" said Isabella, with un- 
 wonted mildness of accent ; for little of that kindly 
 feeling, which commonly animates such close connexion, 
 was hers. 
 
 Our heroine put her hands to her eyes, as if to 
 assure herself they were not closed — then suddenly she 
 exclaimed, ''Ah, the bandage is removed ! Mother, I 
 dreamed I died, and I have in the grave beheld a beau- 
 teous vision ! but false, — oh, surely false ! — I would be 
 crowned, and shortly, though — send to the cardinal : I'll 
 confess to him." 
 
 " Him! whom?"
 
 64 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ''Ha! I have hidden the writings from him — shall I 
 tell you their receptacle ? It is a coffin whose mouldering 
 planks, — but whisper it not to my guardian, or — oh, 
 God of mercy ! let me not go mad — I would be crowned 
 with the sacred diadem of St. Stephen, and shortly — say, 
 am I not queen of Hungary ? 
 
 "Surely, my love," answered Isabella. 
 
 "Ha! can angels speak untruths? Mother, what do 
 you think — I've seen his face — his face, I say, and God 
 save me from the remembrance. I must be crowned, and 
 shortly, though — oh Isabella ! queen regent of Hungary, 
 you little think what has been transacting — there are 
 things working in Hermanstadt, at which the graves of 
 the mighty dead have rent asunder, and given their 
 shadows up — pray my brain don't crack ! Send for the 
 cardinal, do — I would confess." 
 
 " My love, his eminence is at Coloswar," answered 
 Isabella. 
 
 " Why would you deceive me, lady ? — I know better, 
 my guardian is at this hour and minute within these 
 palace-walls, or I still dream." 
 
 " Will you speak to Father Dominick?" inquired her 
 mother. 
 
 " Speak to whom ?" shrieked the maiden. 
 
 " Father Dominick," repeated the queen. 
 
 Czerina replied not a word, but, covering her face 
 with both her hands, went off into a strong shuddering 
 fit. A considerable time elapsed ere the convulsion sub- 
 sided ; it induced a low nervous fever, which resisted, 
 for a period, all attempts to assuage it, and which did 
 not entirely leave her for many weeks. But nothing 
 could prevail upon our heroine afterwards to open her 
 lips on the mystery of her disappearance. To the most 
 earnest and touching inquiries, she simply and inva- 
 riably replied, " It was a dreadful dream ! — a dreadful 
 dream!" She did not seem to be conscious, that the 
 vision comprehended a revolution of four-and-twenty
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 65 
 
 hours, or to understand how she could have been absent 
 from her couch for so long a period. And although she 
 commonly manifested a shrinking of the soul, a convul- 
 sive kind of terror, whenever this peculium, shut up in 
 her own bosom, was hinted at, she yet appeared to look 
 upon it merely as a dream ; and the record on her bo- 
 som bore witness to its horror, and attested with a bloody 
 seal the truth of her assertion. This was not all. The 
 city had no sooner been cheered with the glad tidings 
 of the queen's safety, than there was buzzed from ear 
 to ear a wild incredible story, which seemed to bear some 
 inscrutable connexion with the disappearance of her 
 grace, and which produced a gloomy and mysterious 
 impression on the public mind. The sentinel, whose 
 duty it was on that night to keep guard near the pre- 
 cipice, absented himself from his post, and continued to 
 be missing until the morning which followed the queen's 
 reappearance. On the dawn of that day, this man, with 
 a countenance haggard and highly excited, presented 
 himself at one of the flanking towers, which served as a 
 sort of barrack or guard-room, having been enlarged for 
 the residence of Martinuzzi's corps of mercenaries. At 
 first he refused to give any account of himself, or to ex- 
 plain the reason of his absence. However, on his com- 
 mander threatening to hand him over to the camp- 
 marshall, he offered to confess every thing, provided he 
 was sheltered from the wrath of certain parties, impli- 
 cated in the relation he had to make. This was ac- 
 ceded to. What follows is nearly a translation from a 
 parchment MS., professing to treat of this mystery. 
 Perhaps, in the opinion of the reader, it may reflect some 
 faint and broken rays of light on the dream and dis- 
 appearance of the Queen of Hungary. It is given in the 
 sentry's own words : — 
 
 " I had not been long lodged on my post, when, just 
 as the cathedral bell tolled the hour of midnight, my 
 eye caught sight, at some distance, of a gloomy shape,
 
 66 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 diffused of dew and ether, so lustrous and transparent, 
 that methought I could discern the outline of the crais: 
 through the faint appearance, as through a veil. Gra- 
 dually the figure darkened into substance, and, with a 
 mode of motion, which resembled gliding rather than 
 walking, descended towards the platform. I resolved 
 within myself not to be taken off my guard, and kept 
 my eye steadfastly fixed upon the strange intruder. The 
 hour was dark ; the moon had not risen ; and, under the 
 scowl of night, the plenitude of vapours was perfectly 
 star-proof. On this account I could not distinctly trace 
 the advance of the figure. It came on nevertheless, and 
 I watched its progress with sensations of awe and terror, 
 for which, at the time, I could assign no reasonable 
 cause, although I am now too well able to account for 
 themi The obscure shape found no obstacle in steep or 
 rock, but glided by the jutting barriers of nature, as if 
 it possessed the power to move in air. At length it lit 
 upon an elevated knoll that overhung the military sta- 
 tion where I had been posted. Then the shadowless 
 form made a pause - — ay, on the very edge of the giddy 
 height, bending to look down on me. I looked up at 
 it — I could do no more. A clammy dew gathered over 
 and tingled all my flesh ; for I was sure, from the time 
 of night, and the drapery of the shape, that some blood- 
 less villie* * at once a virgin and at once a bride,' 
 who could not rest in her grave, stood glaring at me. 
 I crossed myself, and would have repeated an ave, but 
 my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth ; so I remained 
 gazing at the apparition, as helpless and as purposeless 
 as the new-born babe. The horrible thing stared me 
 into statue. It looked all white — features, raiment, 
 all. After awhile she beckoned me. My ramping heart 
 
 * The Villies, according to Magyar superstition, are the ghosts of 
 maiden-brides, who, if they get a young man amongst them by moonlight, 
 incontinently cuddle him to death.
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 67 
 
 Stuck in my throat, as 1 thought I should have to die of 
 her embrace. She called me, naming me by name ; and 
 bade me, would I hear tidings of a dear relative, to 
 follow her. This relative and I, in our early childhood, 
 were bosom comrades, and I yearned for some intelli- 
 gence whether he were living or dead ; — for we had 
 been long severed, and he, poor fellow ! has been lately 
 made a wanderer on the face of the earth for my crime ! 
 The spectre, stretching her hand with a motion, which 
 seemed to enjoin my following, passed soundlessly for- 
 ward. God, in whose hands the secret springs and mo- 
 tives of man's actions are locked up, only knows how it 
 came to pass, that I instinctively obeyed that horrible 
 sign. I hardly believe now, it was my deep anxiety to 
 learn some tidings of my relative, although I deemed at 
 the time, that such must have been my motive. Ah ! 
 surely I deceived myself; — it was not affection, but 
 supernatual impulse, which urged me on, since Heaven 
 knows, I would have given worlds, had I had them, only 
 to have placed those worlds betwixt me and that shock- 
 ing thing. I trembled, I shuddered in every limb; my 
 eyes strained themselves to gaze upon the apparition — 
 but I felt myself impelled to follow. A hideous phan- 
 tasma sat upon my breast ; — I knew it, but I could not 
 jostle it off. I traced the unincumbered spirit through 
 height and depth, over battlement and crag and preci- 
 pice, I believe by intuition, for I retain a very vague idea 
 of that midnight walk — a spell was on all my faculties. 
 I can only remember stopping ever and anon, for the 
 wier'd thing, as if woven of air, flew over the ground at 
 an amazing rate; and whenever I would rest, the white 
 creature, with more than human eagerness, again would 
 beckon me lo advance. At length I came to the yawning 
 mouth of that deep black pit, which sweeps steeply down 
 beneath the foundations of the city. Much that followed 
 is like a dream; the spectre beguiled me down steep and 
 tortuous passages, rudely hewn in the rock, till I found
 
 68 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 myself in a vast sepulchral chamber, the roof sculptured 
 with death's emblems, — brainless sculls, bones, and other 
 revolting relics of mortality, were ranged around, and 
 unnumbered coffins were deposited in marble recesses 
 along the dormitory walls. Here and there, a full length 
 skeleton stood beside his monument ; as if, impatient of 
 the tomb, he would anticipate his resurrection; a black 
 iron lamp, suspended from the raftered roof, cast a flar- 
 ing and ghastly glare, far worse than darkness, upon the 
 dismal abode of death. To all it gleamed upon, however, 
 I but little attended ; only one object transfixed my gaze, 
 and she was the unearthly being, who had lured me to 
 the spot. On her all the faculties of my soul rested with 
 undivisible interest. She seated herself upon an orna- 
 mental slab, raised about two feet from the basement, 
 whose entablature appeared highly wrought in living 
 sculpture. On the same monument, by her side, rested 
 a coffin; a hideous skeleton lay stretched at her feet; I 
 might not then discern her features, her veil floated over 
 her countenance, and about her form. Thus, like some 
 spectral effigy, she sat immovable for several minutes, I 
 all the time looking on. I would have stirred; I could 
 not. I would have spoken; my tongue forgot its office: 
 I could hardly be said to think. Whilst I yet remained 
 in this state of stupified horror, my ears caught the tink- 
 ling of a small bell at no great distance. The vision arose, 
 as if moved by mechanism, and uplifted the lid from the 
 coffin, and then, — oh! to my dying hour, I shall never 
 forget my consternation ! — the silent phantom crept back 
 into its hollow tenement, and drew the lid, so as to fasten 
 it on itself. I was now quite alone in the residence of 
 mouldering mortality. I can just recollect an over- 
 whelming desire I felt to escape from the terrors which 
 surrounded me, but that inclination was defeated by the 
 most hopeless impotency of mind and body. In the 
 meantime, my eyes, fixed in mental vacancy, must have 
 drunk in passively the impression of the ghostly shapes
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 69 
 
 around. The first perception, which I can call to mind, 
 after the disappearance of the spectre, was sufficiently 
 startling. The space beyond the entrance of the vault 
 was sunk in shapeless and impenetrable darkness, and 
 the threshold itself was cast into shadow; but all at once, 
 my sight seemed, as it were, to grasp at something in that 
 direction. The faculties of my mind, floating between 
 vision and consciousness, very slowly became sensible 
 of the fact. Owing to the gloom, I could not at first de- 
 fine what I beheld; but by little and little I came fully 
 to understand, that my strained eyes, and the eyes of 
 some dark shape in the door-way, were reciprocally fixed, 
 and orlarino; on each other. The vacant orb recoiled, as 
 a strange living creature, tall, spare, and fantastically 
 habited, passed through the portal arch: whether it were 
 male or female, I might not at first discriminate. Its 
 epicene countenance was dark, withered, and indented 
 with deep furrows — its shrivelled lanky arms were bare. 
 The dishevelled hair was pendant in matted tresses about 
 the shoulders. In its right hand it extended a staff: it 
 spoke, and its voice sounded harsh and hollow, as from 
 the grave. — "Take up that coffin with care, and follow 
 me." — For a moment I hesitated, but only for a moment; 
 I seemed to consider myself bound to obey. 1 raised the 
 coffin; it was heavy; then the foul hag, having reached 
 the lamp down from the ceiling, passed onward with a 
 .gesture of lofty invitation. I followed, as if under a 
 charm; we proceeded through a labyrinth of subterrane- 
 ous passages, ascending and descending frequently flights 
 of steps, sometimes built of hewn stone, in some places 
 chiselled out of the living rock. We traversed dungeons 
 of wild and frightful aspect and of vast extent, wrought 
 out of the heart of the earth. At length a general lan- 
 guishing and faintness of spirits overcame me; I halted 
 to recover myself, and let the coffin rest upon the ground ; 
 my unknown guide moved on without a pause, and the 
 assemblage of horrors which environed me were wrapped
 
 70 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 in impervious gloom. Reptiles of unnatural and hellish 
 natures congregated round the narrow mansion of the 
 dead. The dismal screech owl, with hideous outcry, fled 
 deeper into the vault; the whizzing bat whistled through 
 my legs; and rats and mice, and such abhorred and un- 
 imaginable creatures, as are never heard of in the upper 
 world, crawled about me in every direction; so I thought 
 I would abide no longer in that spot of loathsomeness. 
 I essayed again, to uplift my allotted burden, when, in 
 the very act of squeezing unwittingly in my hand some 
 horrible abortion, which had nestled itself beside the 
 coffin, the disjointed prison-house burst asunder, and the 
 incarnate spirit of its single inhabitant, stood redeemed 
 and disenthralled, rending the casements of death, and 
 robbing the grave of its victory. I could not see the ap- 
 parition, the darkness was too profound; but, by that 
 unutterable creeping of the flesh when every pore, ting- 
 ling with distinct vitality, attests the vicinage of the 
 dead, I felt its presence, and knew it was at that instant 
 standing at my elbow. I would not stretch my arm, lest 
 I should touch its winding-sheet, the very thought of 
 which palsied me with terror. Presently a gleam of light, 
 that shot from an opposite direction, partially illumined 
 the duno^eon. I was mad enouo^h several times to cast a 
 furtive glance on the apparition. She was the spectre of 
 the precipice. Her veil, like a thin mist, must have 
 melted away, and I looked upon a loveliness " not of 
 this world." There, pale in immortal beauty, stood the 
 moveless form, fixing the intense and supernatural light 
 of her eyes upon me. Gradually, like the removal of one 
 layer of the thinnest gossamer after another, methought I 
 recollected who she was that stood beside me. Father of 
 heaven! how did I ever survive the shock of that mo- 
 ment? 'Twas the same lady, whom, several years ago, 
 in the forest of Belivar, I basely caused" * * * * 
 
 [Here there occurs a break in the manuscript, and 
 it is from other sources v.e derive an account of the inter-
 
 MAX use III rx ir. 71 
 
 ruption which ensued.] — It appears that at this moment 
 the word rememhcr, enunciated in a voice, hollow and 
 sepulchral as that which might have served an inhabi- 
 tant of the grave, sounded from the midst of the bye- 
 standers. There followed an awful silence of several 
 seconds. Then succeeded a deal of implication on one 
 side, and recrimination on the other; but, in the end, all 
 present were fain to admit the inexplicable fact, that the 
 word had not been voiced by any individual in com- 
 pany; it issued indeed, from " amongst them, but it was 
 not of them." A sound without an agent. Vox et prce- 
 terea nihil. The speech of tlie sentry faltered, his limbs 
 shook, and his tongue seemed to refuse his office, so that 
 the further hearing was necessarily adjourned. In the 
 meantime, these mysterious particulars, having been ru- 
 moured abroad, everywhere created a certain chill and 
 superstitious sensation. On resuming his communication 
 the following day, the sentry perceived that the room was 
 filled to crowding, and many of the conclave were citi- 
 zens of no little consequence. 
 
 At this point we again take up the manuscript. " My 
 recognition of the spectre so greatly shocked me," recom- 
 menced the sentinel, '' that I sunk down in a state of in- 
 sensibility. On reviving, I gazed fearfully around, under 
 the apprehension of having my eyes blasted with that 
 unearthly presentment ; but, in her place, they lit on 
 the ghastly form of one, whom I had reason to think an 
 abhorred ghost from the regions of the damned; of one, 
 whom, next to the Evil One himself, I apprehend, being 
 like him, subtle, terrible and bloody. With horror qui- 
 vering in every nerve, I gazed for a moment in doubt, 
 but I could not be mistaken — I saw it was the same. 
 My heart is full, and I must speak out. I threw myself 
 upon the justice of his highness, whose beams are uni- 
 versal as the sun's, whose goodness is an attribute co- 
 ordinate with his power. I appeal boldly to the laws of 
 Hungary, and the justice of my country shall shield me ; 
 I will bid defiance to this man's terrible menaces.
 
 72 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Countrymen and comrades ! He, whom I awoke from 
 senselessness to look upon, was One, whom for years, 
 until that frightful moment, I had not encountered, and 
 whom, as I said, I believed to be no more. Till within 
 the last six months his scenters of human prey kept me 
 continually in view, and I duly received, at the hands of 
 one of these, fifty imperials, every quarter, to insure my 
 silence, and my remaining in Wallachia. The disconti- 
 nuance of that supply persuaded me of his death. But, 
 ah ! it was he, who yesterday snapped the thread of my 
 relation by the sound of his well-remembered voice, — even 
 the same who would have defended me from evermore re- 
 visiting this country ; who has sworn I should not long 
 survive the hour I set my foot on my native sjpil, — the 
 same, who once drew from me a tremendous vow not to 
 
 reveal to a single Ha ! great God ! Friends, rally 
 
 round me ! Look ! there glares the visage of the living 
 traitor ! — there ! there !" 
 
 As the prisoner thus spoke, he would have singled 
 out, with unsteady finger, some one at the extremity 
 of the chamber, and there ensued a general stir and 
 commotion of the compact mass which fronted him. 
 From the eagerness common to all, not to amit a sylla- 
 ble of the " ghost story," the conclave of citizens 
 had wedged themselves in close and silent array con- 
 tiguous to the narrator. Those nearest found their ranks 
 invaded, and themselves urged forward, by persons im- 
 mediately behind, and such as were left in the rear, 
 perhaps from having arrived too late, jostled hard for 
 room, trusting, in their turn, by dint of sundry elbow- 
 ings and manoeuvres, in some sort to better their situa- 
 tion ; so that, notwithstanding the dense and crowded state 
 of the apartment, this concurrent and impatient pressure 
 towards one point, as to a common goal, soon left a va- 
 cant space betwixt the extreme rank and the wainscoat. 
 It was thither the prisoner had pointed ; but in the gene- 
 ral erment, the individual indicated by the gesture,
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 73 
 
 effected his retreat, without being discovered. Again, 
 with silence and suppressed breath, the assemblage ga- 
 thered round the sentry. [We return to the manuscript.] 
 " In a niche of the dark cloister," proceeded the 
 narrator, in a lowered voice, " a darkened lamp had 
 been posited, that threw the corner of the dungeon, 
 where I had sunk down, into a deepness of shade 
 so great, as to render me almost completely invisible. 
 The man, I mentioned, was standing near the entrance. 
 His coarse monastic raiment was belted in by a rope, 
 to which was suspended a large leaden crucifix ; 
 the cowl having been thrown back, displayed the monk- 
 ish tonsure. In a low tone, this person communed with 
 himself — 'Strange!' he murmured, 'I trust there has 
 been no error — Unna, where art thou V 
 
 " ' What would you with her, you name V demanded 
 some one, in a deep guttural voice, which, in spite of its 
 harshness, bore the accents of a female ; and at the 
 word, the same uncouth being, who had impelled me to 
 convey the coffin from the cemetery, stalked back, repeat- 
 ing in, as I thought, a fierce and commanding tone, — 
 ' What would you with Unna?' Her tangled hair hung 
 around her in elfin locks, and her manner and appear- 
 ance might have suggested the visible presence of Hecate, 
 in the act of inspiration. 
 
 " 'Have you secured the child?' demanded the monk. 
 " 'The child !' echoed the other, ' Oh! ay, the dainty 
 marigold ; I had her fast but now, close and pent up, 
 like death ; her kingdom is a goodly heritage ; yet, for all 
 her spacious realm, a small continent will hold her; she's 
 robed in pall, but not of sceptered purple. My eyes,' 
 proceeded the speaker, after a pause, with deep pathos of 
 tone, ' whose melting source, seamed with so many years 
 of hard obstruction, hath been a niggard to my outcast 
 state, when they beheld her laid in her narrow bourne, 
 looking so pure and pale, wept for her, and, in the bitter- 
 ness of my soul, I said, wherefore should I weep? better 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 tlms, poor thing ! were thy sleep to wake in heaven — bet- 
 ter thus, than quaff the fatal inheritance, I have provided 
 thee — oh ! far better thus, than live on in gorgeous deceit. 
 Methinks I'd rather see thee in thy shroud, than in thy 
 golden state. I'd rather, thou wert mouldering in an 
 untimely grave than seated on that throne.' 
 
 *' ' Why these reflections now ? they come too late — 
 there was a time indeed,' said the monk ; ' but where 
 have you hid the child ?' 
 
 " ' You say true, they come too late,' replied Unna ; 
 'but that sweet flower, 1 feel, will fade or ere it blossom.' 
 
 " ' Cease, raven-voiced fatalist, unless you would have 
 me mad!' exclaimed the monk. ' Why, ever since that 
 day, have you rung your boding in my ear ? — widow of 
 Thomas Polgar, was it not your doing V 
 
 " ' Yes, I glory in it, and that child shall not lose a foot 
 of possible empire, either through my madness, or thy 
 faintheartedness. Thou didst spare the babe against my 
 wish, and I well know thy pitiful nature ; but, remember, 
 whenever thou art about to draw destruction on thy 
 head, by promulging this matter, whom thou wilt involve 
 in thine own ruin — Beatrice and me, and her. Let the 
 child reign in peace. Her sceptre will be a frail reed in 
 a frailer hand ; and will break at the instant it is ex- 
 erted,' said the monk. 
 
 " 'But thy arm shall instruct her how to wield it,' re- 
 plied Unna, ' and why should she not govern in right of 
 her father V 
 
 "'That which you have done, I cannot undo,' re- 
 joined the monk, evasively, ' and if I might, it would 
 now answer no good purpose ; you have heard of Count 
 Rodna's murder, and know the dreadful consequence of 
 that fatal tragedy. It is now too late. Alicia Svvartz, 
 too, is in heaven !' and, having thus spoken, the monk 
 groaned audibly. 
 
 " 'What ! if he were there with her V demanded Unna. 
 
 "'No, no;' rejoined the monk, ' I do not like thy
 
 MAXUSCllIPT II. 75 
 
 thought ; I would not hurt a hair of that injured head 
 even to benefit her. His appearance has a savour of bit- 
 terness unto me, even as a guilty conscience, to remind 
 me ! No more, Unna !' he presently added, * my appre- 
 hensions point elsewhere.' 
 
 " *To whom V said Unna. 
 
 ^' 'The brigand !' answered the monk. 
 
 *' ' Alas ! 1 trust otherwise,' said Unna, in a broken 
 voice : ' I trust otherwise.' 
 
 '' ' His swoln audacity, that makes him fancy all thing* 
 v.'ithin his fathom, will be his ruin,' rejoined the monk. 
 ' His violent humours border on insanity, towards which 
 restraint and fetters may be kindness ; any longer conti- 
 nuance of his insults and menace, in regard to that mat- 
 ter, must relax the sinews of authority ; and, if they do 
 not speedily terminate, by the Lord that lives I I will 
 proclaim him for that he is !' 
 
 '' ' What would you, tyrant?' shrieked Unna. 
 
 ** ' Call upon Authority to wield her sword to cut the 
 offender off,' replied the monk, with solemn energy. 
 
 " ' Then may the malisons of his mother overtake you !' 
 quickly rejoined Unna. ' May they — and curses such 
 as mine will go direct to heaven, and have a supernatural 
 potency — may they overtake, and cling, and cling 
 unto you, and drag you down to hell !' 
 
 '' The tall harsh form of the speaker grew taller, while 
 venting this imprecation, and her dark features bore an 
 imprint, corresponding to its dreadful purport. 
 
 " ' Nay, nay,' returned the monk, suddenly lowering 
 his tone to one more soothing, ' it may not come to 
 death. You should remember, I have higher obligations, 
 and ties, which are more binding, and to which I must 
 sacrifice those, which would otherwise lead me, for thy 
 sake, to overlook the brigand's preposterous insolence, — 
 make him understand this, or, else, — the Titan must be 
 chained.' 
 
 " Unnapreserved a gloomy silence, and the monk shortly 
 E 2
 
 76 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY". 
 
 added, ' But you have not told me where the child is 
 deposited ; and the princess, where is she ? ' 
 
 " ' Where should she be ? ' retorted the other ; ' be- 
 cause your infatuation forced me to convey her hither, 
 should 1 detain her in these pestiferous receptacles of 
 putrid humanity, the resort of spirits foul and fallen ? — 
 Does she bear about with her a spell, think you, against 
 the viper's sting-, or is she ague-proof?' 
 
 *' ' I meant it not so,' answered the monk. 
 
 '^ Unna again spoke. 'Whither, I wonder, can that cra- 
 ven have strayed in the secret dark ? We had better 
 hence, or she, you love, may be engulphed in one of 
 those steep and deep abysses, which recede into the 
 bowels of the earth ; or else, entangled in the whirling- 
 pool, float on a watery bier.' 
 
 '' 'Ah ! ' shrieked the monk, ' what madness is this? — 
 Lead me, lest her innocent foot be already on the thresh- 
 hold next to heaven.' 
 
 "At that moment, a strong light flashed into the vault, 
 and a white robe was seen fluttering, in the further ex- 
 tremity of the same passage, by which I had entered. 
 An iron tread echoes the light foot fall which precedes 
 it. The monk stood mute and motionless, but Unna 
 rushed out of the vault. There followed a faint scream, 
 immediately succeeded by a clangous sound, as if one in 
 armour were suddenly stretched upon the earth, and a 
 figure, like that of an angel, came wandering by, with 
 dishevelled hair, and an apparent want of consciousness. 
 It was the spirit of the cemetery, but her shroud was 
 gone, and her clothing, torn and disordered in her flight, 
 hung from her, as it were, in irregular festoons, exposing 
 her person to the exhalations of the vault. The pale 
 thing laid her small palm upon her bosom, ' and glan- 
 cing shadows of the night played o'er the marmoreal 
 depth,' whence flowed the red blood, staining her scanty 
 raiment. As the monk advanced, the ethereal shape ut- 
 tered one piercing sljriek, and fled forward into the gloom
 
 makuscript li. 77 
 
 beyond. The ecclesiastic, pushing past Unna as she 
 entered, with a hasty movement, seized the lamp; and 
 the next instant I again found myself in darkness and 
 solitude. I arose with difficulty, for mv limbs were 
 rigid, and an icy chillness benumbed my blood ; while 
 shaking off the multitudinous abominations, which hung 
 about me, like the tresses of the gorgon, I began to dread 
 having to linger out in those mephitic vaults my short 
 remnant of existence, with no prospect but to sleep with 
 the slime of toads, and feel, as the chill blank of an eter- 
 nal rest crept over me, the battening worm raven on his 
 horrid banquet, ere my heart's blood ceased to beat. 
 The idea was fraught with madness, yet it served to renew 
 the elasticity of my mind. I roused myself, and groping 
 along the gelid walls, passed through the entrance. 
 Dismissing every idea, but that of pressing onward, I 
 made my way slowly betwixt the two stone limits, which, 
 at either side, I might easily reach at arm's length. Me- 
 thought I discovered afar off a pale glow-worm light ; 
 thither I bent my steps, but as fast as I approached, it 
 appeared to me to recede. At length, on passing through 
 a narrow door-way, the light waxed fainter and fainter, 
 until its last luminous speck had disappeared. I had 
 already remained a minute without attempting to stir a 
 limb from the position, in which I had first halted, when 
 my ears were startled by a soft step, that sounded not far 
 distant. I feared, I m'ight be in the vicinity of the same 
 pale phantom, who seduced me from my post, to visit the 
 territory of her bodiless associates. The step approached, 
 and in a second or two more, a slight tap on my shoulder 
 almost assimilated me to the exanimate thing, I dreaded. 
 Half distrusting even my senses, I have no words to de- 
 pict my extreme horror, when I felt the icy finger of a 
 corpse laid on the stiflP and rigid hand, which hung by 
 my side ; I snatched it away from the unnatural touch. 
 For awhile, I could feel my very hair bristling on my 
 head. Soon, I heard the same soft step gradually recede
 
 78 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 on the ear, and to my inexpressible relief, the last faint 
 echo of the awful tread presently ceased. So soon as 
 my powerlessness of nerve permitted, I almost questioned 
 the reality of my impression, but again certain remem- 
 brances struck upon my heart. I recalled the features 
 of the spectre, and my feeble flickerings of courage wholly 
 died away within me. At this moment, my attention was 
 arrested, by the approach of some person with a light, the 
 gleam of which enabled me to discover, that I was in the 
 same cemetery, from whence I had first borne the coffin, 
 at the behest of Unna. I had hardly time to slink behind 
 the ample base of a mausoleum, when a man in armour 
 entered. His stature was tall, and port commanding, 
 black plumes nodded from his helmet, his visor was 
 down. Drawing forth a small bugle-horn from his side, 
 he blew a low blast. As the last note died in the echo of 
 those arched and sinuous passages, a body of men, 
 armed with long swords and carabines, rushed tumultu- 
 ously into the cemetery, through a narrow door, sunk 
 within the hollow of the wall, and almost concealed from 
 observation, by the heaps of death's heads, and other 
 emblems of mortality, that seemed purposely to have 
 been arranged about its threshold. The mailed chieftain 
 advancing, formed a prominent figure, in front of this 
 deep back-ground of spears and carabines. ' We will 
 pay these vaults a visit to-morrow,* he said, * when that 
 black devil, Scipio, shall not so easily escape our steel ; 
 so get ye gone from Hermanstadt at present, and wait 
 for me at St. Agatha. I will not tarry long.' 
 
 '* * Had I my will, count, I'd have this night fixed 
 with a rubrick in the calendar,' observed one of the 
 men, 'to commemorate your ill success, 'tis such a rarity.' 
 
 a 'Wurmser, where have you left Wolf ? ' asked the 
 chief. 
 
 *' ' We fear the dog has given us the slip ; he bore our 
 lamp away too,' answered Wurmser. 
 
 " ' Well, do not attempt to seek him now/ said the
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 79 
 
 chieftain ; ' the beast will be nothing the worse for a 
 night among these cloisters. But are ye all deaf? Am 
 I to bid you gone twice ? ' he suddenly demanded, 
 stamping with his armed heel, till the vault echoed and 
 re-echoed to the sound. The troop made a precipitate 
 retreat, and, with a loud clattering noise, closed the door 
 after them. At the same instant, that terrible man ap- 
 proached from the opposite side of the sepulchre. He 
 walked direct up to the chieftain, who appeared to anti- 
 cipate that his business concerned himself. 
 
 *' ' My lord,' began the monk, with an air of stern 
 reproval, *this last outrage of all laws, human and di- 
 vine, calls for exemplary comment. Why should I not 
 this instant give you up to justice? —misguided mis- 
 creant, wherefore not ? ' 
 
 '' ' Ha ! Is justice then, whom thou hast so long thyself 
 abused, become thy dull accomplice?' calmly retorted 
 the other. * Give nie up to justice indeed ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 "What hinders rather that I instruct not justice in thy 
 reaching crimes ? What bids me withhold my tale of 
 wonder, from the multitude? Give me up to justice! 
 Why what doth debar me at once claiming thanks and 
 honours, due to the benefactor of my country ? ]Might I 
 not whisper in Isabella's ear ? or might I not, before as- 
 sembled crowds, where, seated on the very throne of jus- 
 tice, Martinuzzi sits, trumpet thy guilt ? Give me up to 
 justice !' 
 
 " 'You mistake, sir,' said the monk composedly ; ' there 
 are a thousand ways open to me, without myself appear- 
 ing in the matter. I have other terrible modes you little 
 dream of, to put a final period to your iniquitous pro- 
 ceedings : drive me not to resort to them. There be 
 emergencies, when right must be enforced by might, — 
 such things have been ere now.' 
 
 " ' They have,' returned the chieftain significantly. 
 
 " 'And may again, sir,' proceeded the monk, sternly.
 
 80 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 " *And may again, as you say,' reiterated the other, 
 with similar emphatic earnestness. 
 
 " ' Oh my son ! ' said the monk, with deep pathos, 
 ' have 1 not been all the world to you, the almoner, mo- 
 nitor, father ? More liberal than the winds ? What 
 under heaven is thine, and precious, of health or wealth, 
 of life or liberty, which I built not up in thee? How if I 
 resume these gifts? How, sir, if I pash and crumble my 
 own creation, as with a touch T might, to its original 
 atoms ? I have borne and forborne long,— do not compel 
 me to vindicate my tardy justice, or else your life, — but 
 do not, do not, do not ! ' 
 
 " ' I tell you,' replied the chieftain, * you cannot reach 
 me. I defy your utmost malice : — my mother has foretold 
 to me, that only one man will ever have power, for life or 
 death, over Alaric Polgar.' 
 
 " ' What man ?' said the monk. 
 
 " ' 'Tis a riddle of Dame Unna,' replied the chieftain with 
 a laugh, * which you may read if you can. — Him 
 should I avoid, says Unna, whom I shall have de- 
 prived of his two dearest rights, before he knew they 
 were his property. My life you see is charmed. Mention 
 some other mode of retribution, and I'll believe you.' 
 
 " ' Suppose I were to hand you over to the inquisition ?' 
 said the monk. 
 
 " ' I understand,' returned the other ; ' but yours, let 
 me warn you, m.ght prove a two-edged instrument, and 
 cut both ways.— Say I played booty, and confessed more 
 than the rack would have to answer for — more than ex- 
 actly suited Father Dominick.— What think you, in such 
 a case ? — Besides, I can appeal to the safeguard given to 
 Count Thomas Polgar, by the bishop of Funfkirchen, 
 and ratified by Ladislas, — on his death, by King Lewis — 
 when he fell, by Zapola, for some years, — and lastly, ay, 
 you may well start!— by Martinuzzi.' 
 
 " ' Son,' replied the monk, after a short pause, ' not-
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 
 
 81 
 
 withstanding the safeguard you speak of, were I to lodge 
 you in prison, and you to linger there till the day of doom, 
 none would heed — none would require the person of 
 yourcountship at my hands.' 
 
 " 'Yes, one would,' coolly observed the chieftain. 
 
 '''Ha! whom ?' demanded the monk. 
 
 " ' The queen of the Cyganis,' replied the other, in the 
 same bold unsubdued tone, which he had hitherto used. 
 
 " There followed a momentary pause, which was broken 
 by the monk saying, ' Let me recal, my son, an event in 
 your early history, which seems, I know not how, to have 
 escaped your remembrance. Twenty years, and more 
 have passed over your head, since the day I would advert 
 to, but it is from that epoch, you have to date the com- 
 mencement of your fortunes. It was then, that your pale 
 light first twinkled on the verge of the horizon, which, 
 gradually broadening and brightening through darkness 
 and storm, hath long hung like ' a hostile prodigy,'* to 
 fright the under world ; but thy fires, which already are 
 almost spent, will have, at the last, to be raked up, like a 
 sparkle, and be trod out by justice.' His voice faltered 
 for an instant. The chieftain would have spoken, but 
 the monk immediately resumed, in a studiously modulated 
 tone ; ' It chanced in Belgrade, even at the time I have 
 named, that a fine boy of the age of ten years, was being 
 led one morning to execution by a body of Janissaries, 
 when a stranger, who happened to be passing through the 
 city, won, it may be, by the youth's gallant bearing, felt 
 interested for his fate. This stranger became solicitous 
 to learn, what crime, deserving death, could have been 
 committed, by so juvenile an offender. He was informed, 
 that the lad was one of a tribe of gipsies, who, on the 
 over-night, had broken into the dwelling of the Mufti, and 
 stripped the house of valuables to a considerable amount. 
 This boy alone had been captured ; he had been offered a 
 
 * £aiov TSpag — The sphinx. 
 'e5
 
 82 MAXUSCRITTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 pardon, on condition of his betraying the haunt of his 
 confederates, but preferred to die. — The stranger could 
 not sufficiently admire the magnanimity of the lad/' and 
 he determined to save him. Fearlessly encountering, and 
 surmounting every obstacle, arising from the forms of 
 justice, the prejudices of national antipathy and of reli- 
 gious hatred, he was eventually so happy, as to accom- 
 plish his purpose ; but it could only be effected by reim- 
 bursing the Mufti for the loss of his property, and after- 
 wards buying the freedom of the culprit, at an amazing 
 price. The sum required was equal to the revenue of a 
 prince, but the stranger counted out the gold in one scale, 
 and in the other reckoned the excellency of a human 
 life ; nay, as he trusted, of a human soul saved, and the 
 ingots were as dust in the balance. Now, tell me, sir, 
 should not this redemption of his existence have insured 
 the urchin's gratitude, whilst he continued to breathe the 
 vital air ? Would one suppose it to be in human nature, 
 that this boy could ever thereafter have done his utmost to 
 injure and trample on his benefactor?" 
 
 '* ' You strangely forget yourself,' said the chieftain, in 
 a scornful, but meaning voice, at the same time drawing 
 himself up into an attitude of insolent defiance ; ' I have 
 not hitherto done my utmost.' 
 
 " ' Peace, sir,' exclaimed the monk, ' and listen to me, 
 throughout, though not to a close ; for as yet, the end is 
 not — 'tis in the womb of time. The stranger took home 
 with him the manumised boy, whom he had snatched, 
 soul and body, as a * brand from the burning.' His heart 
 inclined towards him, and he clothed him, fed him, in- 
 structed him, lavished on him all the charities of father, 
 friend, preceptor, thus * heaping coals of fire on his head,' 
 should he turn ingrate. He did turn ingrate, sir, and all 
 
 * " A ruffian, who, rather than betray his associates, is content to 
 endure death, has certainly some principle of virtue, however he may 
 misapply it." — Lord Shaftesbury, Charact. vol. 2. p. 39.
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 83 
 
 these benefits were writ in water. — Ah ! you had of me, 
 Ragotzy, health, wealth, distinction, — all you could have 
 — all that ranks you higher than deserving men. But 
 thou must come, forsooth, a base malignant spy. Like 
 the poisonous worm was stirred thy venom, only to 
 corrode the breast of pity and compassion, which warmed 
 and nestled thee, till by thy diffused malignity, the very 
 hand, which has been so prodigal in its gifts, withered 
 and shrunk. "With a felon's strength, didst thou rend the 
 lips of caskets, dread, like those, which lock the end of 
 all our deepest counsels. 
 
 ^' ' Unthankful man !' proceeded the monk, advancing a 
 step nearer to the chieftain, and speaking in a sterner tone : 
 " Thou peerest into the corners of my life, and didst 
 extort the treasures of my secret soul, — yea, count, one by 
 one, my inmost thoughts before thee, as since thou hast 
 told out the accursed coin, with which I have foolishly 
 requited thee. It had been a mercy hadst thou cut thy 
 way direct into my heart, with a quick steel, so I had 
 perished once, and felt not death dropping for ever from 
 thy perjured lips. What tempted thee ? ' 
 
 " The other mystically smiled and began : ' The sultan,' 
 but immediately the monk again took up the word, 'Oh! 
 he should have heard your tidings, and seen your pilfered 
 treasure; for he commanded, — bribed thee, /bid the most, 
 and yet the serpent knew thy value ; thou art nothing 
 worth, sir! what security could he repose in thee ? in a 
 servant, who had broken the full confidence of his lord 
 — in a subject, who set to sale his country's hopes — in a 
 man, whose dear integrity and common nature were worn, 
 like a robe, to rags ! Is it not vile V 
 
 There was uncommon dignity in the bearing of tiie 
 monk, during the delivery of this stern rebuke; but it 
 seemed to make no impression on the chieftain. 
 
 '^ ' I have done all this of course,' he returned Vv'ith a 
 sarcastic smile ; ' you've said as much before.' 
 
 " 'And you,' replied the holy father, ' heard me without
 
 84 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 a blush, as now I see you do. Yet, all this,' he continued, 
 'I would have pardoned — all, anything, everything, but 
 thy last act ! there wanted it not, God knows, to complete 
 the climax of your ingratitude, and yet it transcends the 
 amount of your other injuries a thousand-fold — to aim at a 
 life, to whose term that of thy benefactor is truly linked as 
 closely, as was ever feigned of Meleagar and the billet of 
 Alhea ! What devil prompted thee?' — He paused, fixing 
 on the chieftain a grave and searching glance. — His com- 
 panion laughed out scornfully, and the echoing sounds 
 rang through the sepulchres, like the scoffing of a demon. 
 " 'Thou wert not sane,' the monk rejoined, in a stern 
 and sustained tone of reprimand, majestic beyond des- 
 cription ; ' or, however steel'd thy heart, it is still human. 
 Yes, sir, 'twas stark staring madness possessed you ! But 
 even now, wherefore led you, your wretched myrmidons 
 into these vaults ? I know, you were about to slip the 
 leash, — where, sir, was the quarry ? ' 
 
 " ' That black traitor,' began the chief. 
 "' And what of him, sir?' interrupted the monk; *what 
 possible (see you that skeleton standing at your side ? 
 you'll one day be as it, Alaric !) inducement can you 
 have to stain your soul with that man's murder? Speak, 
 sir!' — At this instant my eyes were attracted by a sight, 
 which again filled them with horror. From that monu- 
 mental slab, on which the coffin had been originally laid, 
 a female head, and then her entire shape, seemed slowly 
 to issue, ascending as it were, out of the marble. She was 
 sheeted in the unsullied garments of the grave, and her 
 veil of thin gauze in many a fold, like fleecy clouds, 
 floated about her. Trembling, I watched the progress of 
 the vision; at first I doubted, but it was only for a mo- 
 ment. Oh, merciful Heaven ! I soon felt she was, — yes ! 
 the spectre of the precipice stood revealed before me ! 
 At the same time, the observation of Ragotzy and of 
 the monk became rivetted on the awful appearance. 
 A bitter sneer had escaped the lips of the former ; and he
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 
 
 85 
 
 seemed to be meditating on some reply, when the inarti- 
 culate sound died away on his tongue, probably from ap- 
 prehension. 
 
 "The spectre beckoned the ghostly father : — to the best 
 of my belief that mysterious man advanced a step 
 towards her, though I may not state this for certain, 
 since to my increased dismay, the light of the lamp be- 
 came suddenly extinguished, and all the surrounding 
 horrible objects were plunged in their native gloom, — the 
 darkness which was of the tomb — the shadow of death. 
 At that instant a dreadful noise, like thunder, to which 
 many a subterraneous echo answered, resounded through 
 the vault : a door opened, and was shut with violence. 
 ' Be on your guard I' exclaimed a voice near me, which, 
 issuing suddenly from some one of the tombs around, 
 sounded in my ears supernaturally tremendous. ' An 
 intruder lurks in the sepulchre ! Over my chamber : at the 
 back of the cenotaph of John Zapola, king of Hungary 
 and Transylvania.' At that instant, a heavy blow pros- 
 trated me, and, between fear and stupefaction, the 
 powers of life were for a time suspended. 
 
 On awaking to sensation, I found myself in a vaulted 
 apartment, barricadoed with jealous strength. The door 
 was secured without, and the loop-holes, through which 
 already the first faint streaks of coming light began to peep, 
 were held by stanchions of iron. Oppressed with fetters, 
 which scarce permitted me to stir, I made a vain effort to 
 shuffle up and down the room, but soon desisting, I threw 
 myself in despair upon the stone floor of my prison. To- 
 wards the close of day I heard the bolts revolve, and one 
 bearing the garb and hue of an African, presented himself, 
 laden with a basket, containing some provisions, and a 
 cruise of water. I inquired of him the cause of my im- 
 prisonment ; he regarded me for a moment with a scruti- 
 nizing eye, and then abruptly named me by an appella- 
 tion, which, although mine by right, I had not gone by 
 since my boyhood. Before I could recover from my
 
 86 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 extreme astonishment, he had vanished, and I heard him 
 carefully shoot the bolts on the outside. Exhausted and 
 hopeless, I soon forgot my sorrows in the land of dreams. 
 My sleep was broken by a heavy hand pressed upon my 
 shoulder; I raised myself: the dusky grey of dawn had 
 again succeeded to the darkness. ' Bestir thee, thou 
 sluggish clod ! woulds't batten on thy duresse, that thou 
 liest here at thy ease, and slumberest away from sorrow?' 
 said a man, who was standing over me, in a harsh and 
 sullen tone. He was short in stature, but his form was 
 enveloped in a military cloak, and a mask effectually 
 concealed his visage. While speaking, he had knocked 
 off my shackles, and then added — ' Come with me; tread 
 lightly, and not a word, as thou valuest thy life/ He then 
 drew open a sliding panel of the wainscot, which cavity 
 a man might with difficulty pass. On issuing forth, we 
 stood on the landing of a flight of steep spiral stone steps, 
 which wound, with one descent, until they terminated in a 
 confined and dilapidated chamber. Having, with labouring 
 speed, arrived so far, I could discover no mode of egress, 
 until my guide suddenly opened a narrow iron-clenched 
 postern to the right, which had at first eluded my eye ; 
 and at the same time, by accident I believe, the mask 
 dropped from his face, and the red light streaming on 
 his countenance, I beheld the identical agent, who for 
 years had hovered about my goings, and was used to 
 bring me the quarterly payments from his employer. But 
 even at that instant, ere I was aware of his intention, he 
 thiiist me out of the room, and incontinently shut the 
 postern upon me. I found myself standing at the base 
 of the north tower, in the court-yard of the citadel. As 
 soon as I recovered from my surprise, at the extrusion to 
 which I had been so abruptly subjected, I directed my 
 steps hitherward, where I was immediately put under 
 arrest. I have nothing more to say." — 
 
 [The manuscript in this place enters on a long meta- 
 physical disquisition concerning the above legend, and
 
 MA^'USCllIPT II. 
 
 87 
 
 incidentally alludes to a varying tradition, readily cre- 
 dited by the vulgar of every rank, that for more than 
 a century, subsequent to the period prescribed to our 
 story, two spirits, the one in monkish habiliments, and 
 the other a female, all arrayed in white, with her breast 
 dripping gore, would, during the deep and silence of the 
 night, traverse, hand in hand, a certain suite of rooms in 
 the castle of Hermanstadt. But since such a scope of 
 episode would divert us too long from the proper subject 
 of our labours, with which it hath little legitimate con- 
 nection, w^e shall forthwith proceed with our narrative.] 
 
 We are given to understand then, in a rare work to be 
 met with in the library of the museum at Hermanstadt, 
 which, by the way, contains many scarce and valuable 
 volumes, bequeathed by Baron Brukenthal to his coun- 
 trymen; that the account of the sentry wrought a terri- 
 ble impression on the minds of his hearers. And what 
 abundant excuse it furnished for sudden and strong ex- 
 citement! Ptumour forthwith found plenty to do for her 
 hundred several tongues, and every tongue made a se- 
 parate report. In the streets, on the ramparts, in the 
 near neighbourhood of the citadel, — every where, groups 
 of citizens might be seen collected with eager looks, ex- 
 changing the various versions of the mystery. And every 
 mouth, syllabling the awful sound in a half- whisper, w^as 
 big with the name of Father Dominick. Some said, 
 the African could be no other than the dreaded black 
 of the citadel. There was a spell in the idea, — no one 
 knew who first dared give it breath ; none might guess 
 whence the whisper arose: but, once disseminated, the 
 transition was easy to the crimination of the confessor of 
 their regent, — that mysterious being, around whom al- 
 ready there w^ere darkening suspicions of the most un- 
 hallowed description. 
 
 At length, a deputation of the principal inhabitants 
 waited upon Martinuzzi, and after recounting the marvel- 
 lous incidents of the sentry's relation, petitioned his emi-
 
 CO MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 iience to silence the terrible conjectures, that were rife in 
 Hermanstadt, by deigning to institute some inquiry into 
 the inexplicable occurrence. 
 
 The regent's ready consent was obtained. He ap- 
 pointed the party to be brought before him on the follow- 
 ing day, and the better to ensure the ends of justice, 
 orders were given, that, in the interim, the sentinel should 
 be confined to the keep of Hermanstadt. The intense 
 sensation which this extraordinary affair produced was 
 wholly unprecedented ; and, impelled by the blind cre- 
 dulity of superstitious fear, the inhabitants of Herman- 
 stadt were stirring betimes on the next eventful morning. 
 At the tenth hour, Martinuzzi appeared, with extraordi- 
 nary pomp, in the great hall of the citadel, and attended 
 by his principal officers of state, took his seat upon the 
 throne. And now the regent dispatched a serjeant-at- 
 arms, with an order to the warder to produce his prisoner. 
 
 A mute and solemn agitation gradually pervaded the 
 chamber as, one after another, growing pale at the idea of 
 the investigation which impended, dropped the conversa- 
 tion, he was holding with his neighbour. The minds of 
 men were wrought upon in the awful silence that suc- 
 ceeded, until their very lives seemed bound up, in the 
 intense expectancy of the current hour. To use the em- 
 phatic quotation of one who was present : * " neque po- 
 puli aut plebis, ulla vox non tumultus non quies ;" and 
 lie might well have gone on from the same author, " quale 
 magni metus silentium est !'t Some delay arose. A 
 gentleman usher of his eminence was, at first, dispatched 
 to hasten the attendance of the sentry. Soon after, 
 the Graf Bathori, a young page of rank and note, left 
 the hall on a similar errand. A considerable space of 
 time again elapsed, but neither returned to render an ac- 
 count of his mission ; minute after minute rolled on, 
 while the court was still held in a state of intolerable ex- 
 
 * Jerome Lascus. t Tacitus.
 
 MANUSCRIPT II. 
 
 89 
 
 citement and solicitude. At length, a peremptory man- 
 date of Martinuzzi elicited the overwhelming' and well- 
 nigh incredible truth. Bathori returned, with perplexity and 
 discomposure in his countenance, accompanied by the 
 warder, who, in great trepidation, informed the regent that 
 the prisoner had escaped. This intelligence came like a 
 thunder-clap upon the senses of every soul in the court. 
 For awhile, they refused to yield credence to so astonish- 
 ing a statement, but it was too true ; the door, it seems, 
 had not been forced ; neither bolts were shotten, nor 
 bars withdrawn ; every safeguard remained in the morn- 
 ing, as it had been left overnight. The prison was secure 
 and unassailed, but where was the prisoner? Each man's 
 heart throbbed a reply, according as superstition or 
 doubt predominated ; but, on every bosom, a strange, 
 and hardly-defined sentiment of terror and dismay 
 weighed, like an incubus. The idea of carrying on the 
 investigation being of course abandoned, the crow'd dis- 
 persed to their several homes. 
 
 Days grew to weeks, and weeks were numbered into 
 months; and each hour, as it passed, stole something from 
 the intensity of the general horror, when a fresh incident 
 helped to renew the public excitement, and revived the 
 remembrance, which seemed ready to expire, of the mys- 
 terious goings on in the vaults of Hermanstadt. 
 
 A patrol of the city, happening, one day, to return 
 home by an unfrequented path, discovered the corpse of 
 a man lying in the fosse, just without the ramparts. He 
 caused the dead body to be conveyed to the barrier, hard 
 by — it was perfectly putrid; no lineaments of his face 
 were discernible. A noose, with the rope attached, was 
 left about the neck. The arms were lifted : the hands 
 clenched ; and the whole corpse stiffened in one dreadful 
 expression of agony. All seemed to indicate, that he had 
 come by his death unfairly ; but. Gracious Heaven ! the 
 deceased was habited in the uniform of the Hungarian 
 guard. Could it be possible? Ha ! vengeance had kept
 
 90 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 his word, and done his worst ! The unsightly spectacle 
 could be nothing else, than the foul and festering carcase 
 of the sentry, who was supposed to have escaped from 
 the keep, and who had never since been heard of. A 
 placard, found upon his person, put the fact beyond 
 all question. It bore the inscription which follows: — 
 " Citizens of Hermaiistadt ! behold the catastrophe of 
 that desperate slave, that canker-ivorm of faith ! take 
 warning by his fate. I, and one greater than I, have our 
 eyes on every soul of ye. Whosoever loves his life loill 
 keep his 07un counsel. Signed, SCIPIO." 
 
 We leave the reader to conceive the dismay, which sat 
 drooping, like an icicle, upon the spirits of all who came 
 to hear of this billet, each of whom might have exclaimed, 
 with Eve — 
 
 " me damp horror chill'd 
 
 At such bold words, vouched with a deed so bold.' 
 
 Milton. 
 
 ' *
 
 91 
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 
 
 " The clock points the hour ; and man is yet as virtuous 
 as our first progenitor before the fall ; the clock strikes, and all 
 is over«" — Godwin. 
 
 " Somnia, terroris magicas miracula, sagas 
 Nocturnos lemures, portentaque." 
 
 Horace. 
 
 The mind would fain pause, amidst the supernatural inci- 
 dents of the last chapter, with a longing desire to as- 
 certain their hidden springs and causes ; but, for the 
 present, at least, we must revert to the main subject of 
 our history, to the elucidation of which the foregoing ac- 
 count of the sentry is by no means unessential. We 
 wished, moreover, before we proceeded further, to show 
 how Father Dominick came to be held in so repulsive a 
 light ; and with that view, have quoted one, amongst 
 many, strange stories, to which we have had access, and 
 which were current at the period. We have been guided 
 in our selection, chiefly by the superior weight of evidence, 
 which seemed to attach to the tale of the cemetery. Had 
 we desired merely to excite terror, we had the choice of 
 several very remarkable passages of the ghostly father's 
 life, and reappearance after death, any one of which were, 
 perhaps, preferable, as a specimen of the marvellous. 
 But we would not attempt to remove the well-known land- 
 marks of truth. It were unworthy the genius of our his- 
 tory to deviate from her course, in quest of legendary lore,
 
 92 MANUSCRIPTS OF EllDELY. 
 
 which, for the most part, must be wholly founded on fic- 
 tion. We are at liberty to make no excursions, without 
 the proper limits of our humble vocation, into so bound- 
 less a field. It is the office of our pages, to record only 
 what we deem authentic, and neither to place our own 
 conjectures and invention in the rank of facts, nor to 
 give currency to the speculations of others, " Nequid 
 falsi dicere audeamus." 
 
 Having premised so far, we beg leave to resume the 
 thread of our narrative, by reminding the courteous rea- 
 der, that we left the captain of the guard, some pages ago, 
 on his return homeward from the barrier. It was of the 
 last consequence to that individual, that his having held 
 communication without the wall of the city should not 
 transpire. Were it known, that he had received aught 
 from a state messenger, in trust for the queen regent, it 
 was evident, the deposits would be required at his hands. 
 
 Now there were dim motives of action floating in the 
 brain of Hubert, with which the reader will presently be 
 made acquainted, which made such an event especially to 
 be deprecated. He would have felt glad, certainly, if 
 there had not been a party to the transaction, but no li- 
 berty of choice was left to him ; the vicinage of another 
 was unavoidable, and it only remained to get the affair 
 hushed up, in the readiest mode that offered. The super- 
 stition of the soldier of the watch favoured his suit, and 
 Hubert felt satisfied, that, at all events, for the next day 
 or two, the man would not break troth. Beyond this 
 term, Hubert required not his silence. 
 
 With these ideas passing in his mind, the captain of the 
 guard retraversed the esplanade; and his meditative steps 
 awakened the still echoes of the ruinous causeway, con- 
 ducting to his own abode. How much of hazard had he 
 not incurred that night ! with the view, which he hardly 
 acknowledged to iiimself, of perpetrating a hideous moral 
 baseness, under pretence of abetting the designs of a man, 
 in whose power, prophecy, and circumstances had thrown
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. ^ 93 
 
 him, but whom, from his soul, he abhorred. In the 
 downward path of life, which, for years, this man's pas- 
 sions and his errors had driven him to tread, his course 
 was taken out of his own direction. Every twig, he 
 madly clung to, in hopes of arresting the impulse of his 
 fall, only acted as a rebound, and tended to accelerate his 
 ultimate fate. Like that diver, in the Gulf of Charibdas, 
 spoken of by Brydone,* Hubert had leaped after the glit- 
 tering bait, sinking, at each venturous plunge, deeper 
 and more deep, into the abyss, till his earthly fortunes, and 
 his soul's health became alike implicated in the whirlpool. 
 With gloomy apprehensions for the event, Hubert 
 reached his rudely-thatched habitation, and, lost in 
 thought, paused for a moment beneath a sort of pent- 
 house, which, supported by wooden pillars, projected 
 from the roof, a few feet beyond the wall, in front. After 
 concealing the box and packet, in the folds of his military 
 cloak, he tapped at the low postern, which, at the first 
 summons, was opened, by a lovely young creature, whose 
 dazzling neck and bosom, partially betrayed by the light 
 and insufficient covering, with her minute and " many- 
 twinkling feet" flashing forth unsandalled, from beneath 
 a scanty night-rail, loosely thrown about her, proclaimed, 
 she had hastily arisen from her couch, for the purpose of 
 letting in her father. If time, and a course of vice had 
 left an isle of health and verdure, in the sterile waste of 
 Hubert's heart, that green oasis was the shrine and the 
 temple of this beloved being ; if one gleam of feeling 
 lingered in his bosom, over which the rack of misfortune 
 sunk not hopelessly dark, that feeling was exclusively 
 sanctified, by parental care and afTectionate solicitude for 
 his sweet girl, the sole offspring of his departed Vero- 
 nica. Oh, no! it was not for himself he repined: let 
 the tempest lift up and rage! he could stand its assault, 
 even as a fixed rock, which the constant surge chafes at, 
 
 * See Tour through Sicily and Malta.
 
 94 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 but wears not — let the shafts of fate speed 'gainst his 
 indurated front ! as from a steel garment would the 
 brittle instruments recoil — but when his thoughts, for a 
 moment, rested on that beloved one, he felt his spirit 
 languish, with his fortunes. In all else he w^as armed in 
 mail of proof. His desire of vengeance, he knew, would 
 uphold him in the everlasting conflict with his hard des- 
 tiny. He was like the hero of antiquity, impassable save 
 at a single indivisible point, but thither were the arrow 
 aimed, he knew, it must penetrate to the quick. If his 
 past sorrows told him not, his past sins might have, and 
 that emphatically, and unanswerably, that the bagnio floor 
 of this bad world was no resting-place for female inno- 
 cence ; its desolate and thorny haunts no pleasant asylum 
 for the probation of loveliness, whose only earthly trust 
 is treachery. Over the future destiny of his Veronica 
 would Hubert often weep bitter scalding tears — for her 
 sake, chiefly, he dragged on the lengthening chain of 
 existence — for her, the sweat of his brow was gathered, 
 and the sin of his soul contracted — for her he girded up 
 his soul in treason, living the confederate of robbers, and 
 the thrall of robbers, and their betrayer ! And that child, 
 not vet eighteen, with her radiant hair; her clear brow, 
 her eyes " of that same hue in which the heaven de- 
 lio-hts;"* her enchanting countenance ; her low silver- 
 stringed voice, entrancing the listening ear to catch the 
 minutest echo of that minstrelsy which, like the inspira- 
 tion of some soft reed pipe,t enriched the air when she 
 spoke; her graceful buoyant shape, just beginning to 
 round into the full and swelling contour of womanhood — 
 that child, whose every heart's throb was but the gushing 
 forth of that filial tenderness, which was " part and par- 
 cel" of her existence, and which constituted a worship 
 
 * Wilson. 
 
 t a avgiyyoQ wg ttvoicl
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 95 
 
 and a religion, that not the most fervent enthusiast ever 
 went beyond, in prophetic cell or depth of solitude ; — 
 that child, the strong necessity of whose heart, without 
 reserve or doubt, and undiverted by the influence of any 
 lighter instinct, was love, in its most elevated character, 
 in its loveliest form and aspect — the intense essence of 
 that sympathy, which is among the best and most pious of 
 our human feelings, and which alone (as the oil of aroma 
 will preserve its entirety and sweetness, unpolluted by the 
 mire of the puddle, in which it may have spilt) the cor- 
 ruptions of this world have failed to deteriorate. Such 
 zeal of affection burnt, pure and exclusive, on the secret 
 altar of the heart of that child, who little imagined how 
 ' ;ly the perpetual course of crime, had hardened and 
 
 vered the nature of one, so highly reverenced. Yet, 
 despite his occasional shows of confidence, she appre- 
 hended, that her father owned certain arrieres pensees, 
 which he was unwilling to reveal. Many fortuitous cir- 
 cumstances, that could scarcely escape her penetration, 
 and obscure intimations from day to day, to which it was 
 impossible she could wholly close her eyes, had given 
 her to know, that Hubert's proceedings were not conso- 
 nant with that strict rule of moral rectitude, which her 
 unsophisticated sense, enlightened and hallowed by the 
 clear sunshine of theGospel, had chalked out, as the only 
 standard of human conduct ; nevertheless, she was far 
 from conjecturing how thoroughly unpurposed were the 
 impulses, on which her parent acted, or to how forlorn and 
 desperate a state his want of principle had reduced him. 
 She might hardly guess, that, like the bankrupt devotee 
 of the blind goddess, he had played on, through very 
 excitation of the game, and that, of late, he had lowered 
 and lowered the amount of his stake, until it reached its 
 minimum. 
 
 On the door opening, Hubert entered into a sort of 
 parlour, the walls of which were plastered and white- 
 washed, and whose large fire-place, with its culinary ap-
 
 96 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 pliances, betrayed the domestic uses, which the apart- 
 ment occasionally served. The single lattice of this 
 room was almost on a level with the thatched pentice 
 without, that seemed erected on purpose to eclipse the 
 day-light. Having doffed his iron beaver, Hubert placed 
 the packet and the box beside it, unperceived by Vero- 
 nica, on the rough table, over which he carelessly threw 
 the military cloak, and then drew a bench, close to the stone 
 hearth, whence the expiring embers of a dull wood fire, 
 cast a fitful and sullen gleam over the miserable accom- 
 modations of the room. On that bench, with his elbow 
 on his knee, his forehead resting on the palm of his right 
 hand, and his eyes fixed gloomily on the ground, Hubert 
 seated himself, and the very intensity of his gaze be- 
 trayed its lack of speculation, and showed how lost he was 
 within the sanctuary of his inner spirit. Veronica stood 
 by. She could not but feel hurt at Hubert's prolonged 
 silence, though neither his abstraction, nor its continu- 
 ance, could be said to surprise her. She guessed, that 
 those taciturn fits, to which he was of late accustomed, 
 did not result from internal repose, and instead of de- 
 noting a vacuum in his thoughts, she had reason to ap- 
 prehend, that they rather betokened the jaded restless- 
 ness of a brain, fraught with fearful subjects of contem- 
 plation. At length, she took courage, and ventured to 
 speak. 
 
 " Father, edts atyam,^ are you not well ?" she inquired, 
 with that thrilling emphasis of the heart, which alone 
 belongs to woman, and which only woman can conceive, 
 and give breath to. 
 
 " Well?" repeated Hubert, with an impatient start, 
 but without raising his eyes; — "Yes, yes, my love, 
 surely." — But Veronica apprehended something in his 
 looks and gesture, which contradicted this assurance. 
 His manner was like to that of a man, labouring m ith some 
 
 * Dear father.
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 
 
 97 
 
 dreadful conception. " Is there more krummolz at 
 hand ?" presently he demanded . Another faggot of knee- 
 wood was brought by Veronica, and thrown on the 
 hearth, and again all was still. The contemplation of 
 Hubert, which seemed to prohibit conversation, lasted 
 some minutes. At length Veronica, having, more than 
 once, suppressed what was rising to her lips, broke through 
 the restraint, by enquiring, in a low and timid accent, 
 into the nature of the alarm, which had drawn her father 
 from his quiet home, at that dead hour of the night. So 
 completely was Hubert pre-occupied, with the thoughts 
 then dominant in his mind, that Veronica had to repeat 
 her question, before he caught its purport; and, when he 
 did so, he briefly, and almost peevishly replied ; " Nothing 
 of moment, love, "—and again he fell into deep medita- 
 tion. Struck by the sullenness, with which Hubert re- 
 pulsed those attentions, he was wont to delight in, Ve- 
 ronica fell suddenly into silence, when presently, her 
 father himself broke the chilling pause, by abruptly ad- 
 dressing her. 
 
 '^ Prithee, my love," he said, " fetch me a stoup of our 
 kor'6 start.''* The damsel half started ; she gazed intently 
 on her sire, by the glimmering and inconstant light. His 
 countenance bore evidence of something wrong within. 
 It looked astonishingly pale; Veronica thought, she had 
 never before remarked it so pale. She felt troubled, and 
 appalled at she knew not what, and, throwing her taper 
 arm round Hubert's neck, she kissed his forehead, and 
 then, having dashed aside an involuntary tear (whilst her 
 feet glanced along the brick-floor, as lightly and as 
 brightly, as two trembling leaves of poplar, drifting be- 
 neath the moon), she glided from the apartment. She 
 was not long gone, ere she returned with the wine. 
 
 " Father, are we not to return to bed, to-night?" she 
 enquired, as she entered, with an arch smile, aad in a 
 
 * Korosian, the oidinary wine of Hungary. 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 tone, that, notwithstanding its simplicity, carried with it 
 a somewhat dolorous impression, but instantly, with 
 more seriousness, she subjoined : " I am sure now, that 
 you are not in health, by your drinking, at such an hour; 
 that is," she quickly added, on remarking the increased 
 disquietude of Hubert's countenance, " I fear, you must 
 be ill!" 
 
 " I am as well as usual," coldly answered her father ; 
 and he raised the csutora* to his lips, and drained it at 
 a draught. 
 
 " Ah! I bethink me, now," continued the maiden, with 
 filial pertinacity, '' that dwarfish envoy, from Wallachia, 
 conferred such a time with you last evening. It must be 
 he, who has so ruffled you. I have often remarked, you 
 appear quite a different being, after these messages reach 
 you, from abroad; how heartily I wish, that all your fo- 
 reign connexions were abandoned, and that you would 
 learn to anchor your heart at home. It should be my 
 whole study to weave for you the fruitful hours into 
 a happy existence. Oh! believe me! I will scarcely lose 
 a section of a minute, in the livelong day, out of your dear 
 sight; and not a thorn hath untoward fortune planted in 
 your pillow, but I will find a spell to rob it of its sting. 
 Only do hold out some hopes, that, in time, you will seek 
 other counsel, than from designing men, that, like eclipses, 
 darken your path, my father: I hope I err; but do you 
 know, I dream of nights, there are, who will one day or 
 other, peril your life, if not, what you should prize more 
 highly, your character. But what is it ails thee, father?" 
 she asked, interrupting herself, as Hubert muttered some 
 inaudible words, between his teeth, while a strange, and 
 agonized expression went over the paleness of his features, 
 like a cloud. Alas! where were his thoughts? He was, 
 perhaps, reflecting how well founded were the apprehen- 
 sions, in which the maid indulged, and pondering on the 
 
 * Flask.
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 99 
 
 possibility, in the desperate strait, into which he was 
 driven, of shaking off that baleful connexion, which, in his 
 heart, he deprecated, not less than did his child Discon- 
 certed and abashed, a cold shudder appeared to be passing- 
 over him, when, averting his face, his looks lit, half uncon- 
 sciously, on the unsandalled feet of Veronica. In a few 
 seconds, the whole of the dress, or rather disarray, in 
 which she was so lightly untrimmed, seemed to fill his 
 eye. 
 
 "Why, Veronica! how is this, that thou art so rarely 
 clad?'* he demanded, in a tone of reprehension ; " Prithee 
 retire, child, and apparel thee more warmly — but I give 
 thee but a minute; for Veronica," he added, with signi- 
 ficant impressiveness, " I have something to deliver, which 
 is not suited to the w^atchful day; and lo! if already the 
 night be not waning in the east, where the pale stars are 
 going out like glow-worms. Hasten back, then, child. 
 There is a thing to be done, ere the next new-day's sun is 
 
 in the heavens: a thing I , but wend thee, now, 
 
 away; no reply." 
 
 Veronica, not a little amazed, disappeared. While 
 the fair maiden was engaged in donning her body clothes, 
 Hubert removed the wooden case from the table, and 
 passed through the inner door, bearing with him the 
 deposit under his arm. He was not absent above a mi- 
 nute, ere he returned to the apartment, empty handed. 
 Casting an additional logon the hearth, he stirred up into 
 cheering life the crackling fuel, till the broad and ruddy 
 flame danced picturesquely, athwart the plastered wall, 
 and diffused its reddening hues, over the whole chamber. 
 Then, taking up the fatal packet, his hand trembled, 
 even like his heart, as he held it before him, to examine, 
 with greater minuteness, its form and appearance. It 
 was a small flat parcel, and even if he had had nothing 
 more to go upon, Hubert would have judged, from its 
 size and weight, that it contained papers. A triple 
 silken braid was passed round it, altaclied to three seals 
 
 F 2
 
 100 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 of rosin, severally impressed, with the bearings of Count 
 Ragotzy. In Hungary, at the age of our narrative, to 
 read or to write was held an uncommon accomplishment, 
 being an art almost exclusively monopolised by ecclesi- 
 astics, and chiefly confined to the peace and solitude of 
 the cloister. Hubert was consequently unable to decipher 
 the address. He turned the dread deposit repeatedly 
 in his hand, contemplating it on either side, and in 
 every aspect, as if he had hoped, by that mechanical 
 process, to discover some entrance, — some channel of 
 communication, between his own curiosity, and its con- 
 tents. In vain : it had been most carefully closed up, 
 and was sealed at every opening. He thought deeply, 
 and, as his mind darkened with its own suggestions, every 
 faculty of his soul became absorbed, in the vortex of his 
 desperate design. "Now, an I were wise, I might be quits 
 with fortune," he murmured to himself: " it is the same, 
 I'll swear, it is the same, and were the secret of these pa- 
 pers known to be in my possession, I might yet re-esta- 
 blish the golden pre-eminence of my birth, and secure, 
 and perpetuate the magic wand of wealth, in mine and 
 Veronica's grasp. What a harvest might I not reap, out 
 of the Queen's terrors ! I'd coin her nerves; her heart 
 were a mine exhaustless ; or, if I deceive myself, and I 
 may not wish that she, or any one, should know of my 
 discovery, let the worst betide, and I keep my own 
 counsel, who can betray me?" He paused, and then, 
 as conscience checked, added, in a suppressed voice, 
 *' Count Ragotzy ? But with him I am already impli- 
 cated : — Veronica ? Ah no ! not she indeed." 
 
 Silencing, by such fallacious reasoning as this, some 
 involuntary feelings of hesitancy and reluctance, he 
 paused, as, again and again, he inverted the position of 
 the packet, pressing it between his fingers, whilst he in- 
 spected every fold. The nervous consciousness of one, 
 who knows himself about to sacrifice his honour, and 
 self-esteem, to the busy fiend in his bosom, was stamped
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 101 
 
 on every working furrow of his brow, and exhibited in 
 his abrupt and agitated movements. His extreme per- 
 turbation, evinced the wrestlings and throes of crime, 
 ere she is well delivered of her faltering purpose. His 
 internal conflict was made more evident every instant. 
 A trepidation shook him ; — he started continually, at the 
 sudden and tremulous gasps of his own breast ; he 
 pressed his hand on his knit and throbbing brow ; his 
 eyes deliberately made the circuit of the apartment, and 
 then again rested on the mysterious packet, in a sort of 
 feverish gaze, as though fixed there, by the power of a 
 charm. " Thou keepest my vision upon the stretch," he 
 murmured, addressing the object of his apparent curi- 
 osity : " would J could penetrate thy hidden principle. 
 To be given to Isabella, if the Cygani do not claim thee 
 of me. Ha ! by heavens ! it must be the same packet 1 
 saw once, and but once, in the hands of the dying Alicia, 
 and deeper occurrents lie hidden in its folds, than I have 
 time to dream of. Fixed, voiceless confession," added 
 he, involuntarily speaking in a louder key, *' what are 
 thy intents — thy purposes ? what dost thou prate of? " 
 
 " Of danger and of death ! " whispered a hollow voice, 
 that hovered at his shoulder. 
 
 He cast his looks on each side of him, and behind, 
 but no human form met his baffled gaze. Not a little 
 startled, he cried out "Who speaks? — was that you, my 
 love ? " but Veronica answered not. After again scruti- 
 nising the apartment, he raised himself on the window- 
 seat to a level with the latticed casement, which looked 
 out, beyond the piatza, upon the narrow thoroughfare. It 
 was the dead hour of dawn, — the dew had not yet sprung 
 upwards with the lark. All was hushed, in deep and 
 grim repose, and the earliest Aurora still slept, on the 
 irregular, and uncouth mansions, on the portal towers, 
 temples, and battlements of the mute city. Hubert was 
 in no mood to look long abroad, on the beauty of the 
 night. Having descended, he paced the room in in-
 
 102 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ward musing. That a voice had spoken, he felt con- 
 vinced, — horrible and unearthly as were the tones, still 
 a human voice it was, — and the words ^' of danger and 
 of death," whispered almost at his ear, were too dis- 
 tinctly wafted on the uttering air, for it to be possible his 
 senses could have deceived him ; and yet how could it 
 be ? Whence could the voice proceed ? 
 
 Hubert crossed himself, as he rapidly turned over in 
 his mind the simple topography of his humble dwelling. 
 Like most of the poorer habitations in Hermanstadt, the 
 only chambers were those on the basement story ; the 
 largest of these was connected, by a short passage, with 
 the apartment, in which Hubert was at the time, and con- 
 stituted a sort of kitchen, where, however, a wild crone 
 of a housekeeper was then reposing. Hence, there was 
 an outlet into a paved yard, once sheltered by a roof, 
 which, amissing the support of its wooden pillars, had long- 
 since disappeared ; it was now hardly enclosed by a dila- 
 pidated brick wall, so low in many places, as almost to 
 invite intruders. Beyond, extended a wild and ruinous 
 space, laid waste, and encumbered with heaps of rubbish, 
 and overgrown with tall rank grasses, intermingled with 
 briars, nettles, &c. This demesne had been partly inter- 
 sected with the foundations of buildings, newly laid, and 
 was partly covered over, by scarcely habitable tenements, 
 that, breached in several places, were left unrepaired, 
 after having been more than half demolished, from the 
 ravages of a siege, which the fortress had sustained, from 
 the Turks, some years previously. These mouldering pre- 
 cincts terminated in a deep moat, which, nearly on every 
 side, peninsula'd the massive donjon, or keep, attached to 
 the castle, or citadel of Hermanstadt, as the building was 
 indiscriminately called. The remaining apartments in 
 Hubert's house, were his own, and that of his daughter, 
 opening on opposite sides, from the central passage before 
 mentioned. 
 
 Hubert having considered these ichnographical points,
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 103 
 
 thought it possible, that some person might have entered 
 the area alluded to, over the broken wall, and that the 
 voice might have issued, from that quarter. Acting upon 
 this idea, he made directly for the kitchen. A broken 
 partition of the wall admitted a dubious, and melancholy 
 light, by the secondary medium of a little window, over 
 nearly half of this miserable apartment ; the moonbeams 
 played on the few coarse implements for household pur- 
 poses, which hung from the rafters overhead, or were 
 ranged around the wall. No sound reached the listening 
 ears of Hubert, save the hard and audible breathings of 
 the old housekeeper, who, reposing on her small pallet, 
 spread in one corner, without curtains or hangings, 
 mumbled in her sleep, and dreamed aloud. " Holy Mary I" 
 she muttered, " I murdered her not — I delay no more — 
 I'll see the Cardinal." Hubert seemed struck, but pre- 
 sently passed on. There were no fastenings attached to 
 the area wicket, and being only upon the latch, it opened 
 without noise. Hubert stepped out, and looked around. 
 The ruggedness of the surrounding ruins was softened 
 down, as they lay before his eyes, in the profound repose 
 of moonlight ; but on those premises no intruder was 
 visible, all was as hushed, and as deserted, beneath the 
 watching stars, as he had left it in front. Shortly, he re- 
 entered the lonely dwelling, and, unmindful of the low 
 murmurs of the housekeeper, made his way back into the 
 apartment, whence he first issued. It would be hard to 
 depict the man's amazement, on discovering that the 
 street-door, which he had just that instant left bolted, 
 and closed, stood ajar. For several seconds he stopped 
 short, motionless, as if transfixed to the spot, by the rod 
 of some magician. Then he hasted to the entrance, and 
 issuing forth, thought he perceived a human figure, at a 
 short distance, half hid by the deceptive light. He hur- 
 ried thither, and pausing, peered in every possible direc- 
 tion, in vain : he discovered nothing, which could point 
 out the way the figure had fled. . There was not a sign of
 
 104 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 life around, nor near, nor afar off, amid the still, solitary 
 grandeur of the surrounding scene, which was delineated 
 to the eye, as in a panorama. Domes, steeples, turrets, 
 and the distant peaks of hills, lay blended together in 
 the almost imperceptible haze, which, without obscuring, 
 tempered their rugged forms ; yet was their outline suf- 
 ficiently defined, against the dark purple sky, white and 
 immovable, in the grey twilight. The whole city borrowed, 
 as it were, a spectral appearance, from those lifeless moon- 
 beams, which touched it, with a comfortless and superna- 
 tural beauty. Hubert was stationed beneath the superb 
 portico of the royal residence of the Queen Dowager. 
 Within that lofty dome were domiciled Isabella, the 
 haughty descendant of a line of kings, and her fair 
 daughter, the heroine of our history, the young, and lovely 
 Czerina. The fretted towers, and spires of the church of 
 St. Theresa, covering one side of the grand square, were 
 visible, half in moonlight, half in shade, immediately to 
 tlie right ; and at no great distance, on his left hand, the 
 proud keep or citadel of Hermanstadt, in the windows of 
 which a taper or two yet twinkled, stood out to the eye, 
 every rent and chasm of time obliterated, in the hallowing 
 light, as it frowned in Gothic and sombre splendour, upon 
 the overhanging precipice beyond. Behind him, at the 
 end of the square, stretched the ancient town, where 
 habitations of clay and basket-work, whose roofs of va- 
 rious unequal heights were covered with straw, held down 
 by transverse poles, lay crowded irregularly together, 
 like a confused chaos, without order or adequate space. 
 These were so close and inconvenient, as hardly to allow 
 a narrow interval, here and there, which might serve to 
 bear along " the tide of human existence." The high 
 street, as it was named, that in which Hubert resided, 
 was a ravine of this description. It branched out from 
 the grand square, in a line with the royal palace, and ex- 
 tended, for nearly a mile, to the foot of the ramparts, 
 which closed, with its gloomy barrier, portcullis, and
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 
 
 105 
 
 flankers, the city vista. The new town, which consisted 
 of substantial brick edifices, built on a more commodious 
 plan, for the most part terminating in the grand square, 
 before mentioned, was surrounded by a double w^all, and 
 a deep fosse. It lay beyond the noble structure, at whose 
 base Hubert stood. Through it, the river Zibin flowed in 
 murmuring channels, supplying every street with a tribu- 
 tary stream, * here trickling in rills, there gushing in foun- 
 tains, while frequent tanks or basons of the glassy element 
 intervened, populous with the finny race. 
 
 Hubert, from whose immediate business in the grand 
 square we have in some degree digressed, was soon re- 
 called, by the sharp morning air, from the deep, and solemn 
 feeling of the moment, to a sense of his situation, and 
 baffled and dejected, he slowly retraced his steps home- 
 wards. He entered. Veronica, who had substituted for 
 her night-rail a dark kirtle of the simplest form, was 
 seated on a tripod stool, and crouched her fair body near 
 the hearth, bending, with much intentness, over a leaf of 
 vellum, which she held in her hand, and which, by the 
 aid of the fire-light, she was perusing, with unequivocal 
 symptoms of horror and amazement. Hubert approached 
 her. 
 
 " Whither have you been, father ?" she asked, without 
 removing her settled gaze from the object, on which her 
 eyes seemed rooted. The words issued almost still-born 
 from her livid lips, her cheeks were blanched, and her 
 whole frame trembled like an aspen. 
 
 "What is it, you grasp so wildly, Veronica?" de- 
 manded Hubert. But the maid was mute ; she merely 
 upheld the script in her hand, before the eyes of Hubert. 
 It was enough to sear his sight. Fresh characters were 
 inscribed upon a label of vellum ; they were yet moist ; 
 the crimson syllables still, as it were, welled. Those cha- 
 
 * Les Ruisseaux, qui passent au travers de la ville, la tiennent d'une 
 tres grande proprete. — Description of Hermansladt, in Meraoires du Prince 
 Rakoczy. 
 
 f5
 
 106 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 racters were written in blood ! After awhile Hubert found 
 speech. 
 
 ** Where, child, did you fall in with that, my eyeballs 
 recoil to look upon ?" he inquired, in an accent, signifi- 
 cant of the awe and apprehension of his soul. 
 
 ** On my return," replied the trembling girl, '* as I 
 looked round, in surprize at missing you, my eyes acci- 
 dentally glanced upon this dreadful scrap of vellum, 
 lying on the settle near the fire-place, and I was about to 
 decipher the inscription, wdien you entered." 
 '* Read it," said her father. 
 
 In compliance with this direction, Veronica, with a 
 low and discomposed voice, delivered these words aloud : 
 ** Would you destroy body and soul ? Officious fool ! 
 Open th5 deposit, confided to you, at your peril." 
 
 If Veronica was affrighted at the thick strokes of new 
 spilt blood, traced on the instrument, she held shudder- 
 ing, between her fingers, Hubert was little less so, at their 
 awful purport. The conditional menace, which seemed 
 to pierce the stillest recesses of his soul, and to apprehend 
 the consequences of those suggestions of his evil nature, 
 which he dared scarcely acknowledge to himself, bewil- 
 dered, and appalled him. He drew the oaken table in 
 front of the hearth. The fire shot its blue flame upward, 
 and the vivid light discovered the ashy paleness, which 
 apprehension spread over the countenance of Veronica. 
 The mode, and threatening tenor of the communication 
 were alike calculated to inspire her with alarm, more 
 especially, that she could form no imaginable conjecture 
 in what direction she ought to shape her fears. But 
 Hubert was not then " 'i the vein" to notice her state of 
 inquietude. His whole soul was too intent on the fearful 
 act he was about to commit. The packet marshalled him 
 the way he v/as to go, and, like the forbidden apple, held 
 out, in its fruition, the knowledge of good and evil. The 
 purpose, with which he laboured, appeared almost too 
 mighty for explanation. At least, though his eye might
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 107 
 
 speak his meaning, his convulsive attempts to voice his 
 wish, died inarticulate on his lips, and it was some 
 minutes, ere he faltered out, with that assumed calmness, 
 which his low, half-whispered tone, embarrassed address, 
 and glancing eye contradicted. 
 
 " Explain this superscription to me, Kintsdso* what is 
 the purport of the writing ?" And thereupon he resigned 
 the missive of Ragotzy, into the hands of the electrified 
 girl, who, on receiving it, held it before the light, as if to 
 assure herself, it was '' no false creation proceeding from 
 the heat-oppressed brain." 
 
 "Thus, then, my God! is the mystery of the blood- 
 red script interpreted," she said, in a voice below her 
 breath, and then more calmly added aloud, compelling 
 herself to a tone of indifference, though trembling with 
 bodings of she knew not what — " Father, this is addressed 
 to the queen-mother Isabella ; would you have me con- 
 sign it to the chest, for security, till the morning?" 
 
 " Veronica, attend to me," began her father with im- 
 pressive solemnity, and then he paused to collect himself. 
 "Dost thou remember, love," he presently continued, 
 " how, when thou wast yet a little child, thou, and thy de- 
 parted mother, and myself, found ourselves one tempestu- 
 ous evening, at the close of a hard day's journey, on the 
 borders of the forest of Belivar; — how, when cono-reg-ated 
 whirlwinds filled the air, with baleful darkness, and the 
 lightning streamed athw^art the intolerable obscurity of 
 the night, like the brand of the destroying angel, — when 
 earth and heaven shook, and the wrathful clouds spoke 
 out — dost thou remember?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do indeed," interrupted Veronica. " We 
 looked to the heaven upward, and down to the earth, and 
 lo! nought but darkness, and distress ! Even the ground, 
 we trod on, appeared to tremble, and a tongue of fire 
 
 * Dearest.
 
 108 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 lapped all around like stubble. Think you, I can ever 
 forget the goodness of God, evinced in our preservation^?'* 
 " Need I remind thee, then," resumed the father, 
 " how, when every instant, the finger of St. Hubert was 
 made manifest, in the duration of our lives, and each in- 
 terval of additional being came, even like an immediate 
 reprieve, from the awful audit of eternity, that suddenly, 
 and unawares, as by a miracle, we were redeemed ? Need 
 I remind you, how, when those strong arm'i snatched us, 
 as it appeared, from doom, and conveyed us, weary and 
 worn, to where food, fire, and shelter cheered, and solaced 
 us, — that an oracle respecting thee was announced, in that 
 cavern, to which we found ourselves transported, as by 
 enchantment — those savage fantastic forms — those rude 
 men and women, who tended on our wants — those blue 
 meagre Cyganis, scarcely bearing the lineaments, or pos- 
 sessing any of the common attributes of humanity, unto 
 whom, nevertheless, we owed our rescue from an un- 
 timely death, — their habitation, their appearance, not 
 all the obliterating circumstances of time's current can 
 have effaced from your remembrance. — 'Tistrue, my love, 
 you were a mere child ; yet incidents, which strike power- 
 fully on our senses, in the primal freshness of perception, 
 will sometimes live in our memory, as long as our pulses 
 continue to beat. Oh ! there was one, among those dark 
 people of Egypt, whose image must have troubled your 
 subsequent dreams, and which no train of events can 
 have wrought out from your remembrance. She, I 
 mean, the haggard Boszorkany* who, emerging, from 
 the further gloom of the subterranean retreat, whither we 
 had been borne, raised thee, my Veronica, in her withered 
 arms, and, in all the fulness of inspiration, predicted your 
 future destiny. With the far-reaching energy of a heated 
 brain, she darkly hinted at the main incidents, which she 
 
 * Sorceress.
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 109 
 
 foresaw, as in a vision, would chequer, and distinguish 
 the history of your days- Canst thou tell me, Veronica, 
 what was't the charmer presaged should illustrate the 
 chronicles of your eventful life ?" 
 
 '* She said," replied Veronica, " I know not what, in 
 her typical and ardent style, of the ' ravished treasure of 
 my bosom,' and ' the golden glory of my brow' — but 
 trust me, sir, it were to be credulous, beyond the license 
 of superstition, however the dark visions of a disturbed, 
 if not alienated mind, retain hold on our memory, to let 
 such thin, and airy circumstance influence our conduct. 
 Ah, no, father, human destinies are not in our own 
 volition ; still less do they hinge on the shadowy inspira- 
 tion * of our fellow mortals." 
 
 " Yet often," rejoined her father," obviously discom- 
 posed, " they, who make the occult sciences their study, 
 pierce the darkness of the future, as by a self-impulsion 
 of the soul, and will hit on truths with unerring light, 
 which are denied to the elaborate deductions of reason, 
 and are inaccessible to the highest reach of the under- 
 standing ; nathless, I say not, that they prescribe, or 
 fashion, at their wished pleasure, the order of those events, 
 which they only shadow out. For instance, Veronica, 
 what were those seeds, the sybil scattered on thy heart, to 
 make it swell, ere this, with thoughts of empire ? Thus ran 
 her augury, child — ^ Thy fate, maiden,' she said, at the 
 close of her address, * will depend, on the unravelling of 
 the intricate ways of the lofty, and the proud. When the 
 confidence of the wicked shall be violated, when his trust 
 shall fail, and he be confounded with shame, — when the 
 prey of the Mighty One shall be retaken, and the spoil, 
 seized by the terrible, shall be rescued, — when the sig- 
 net be broken, and the truth published, along the cause- 
 lu ays and streets of Hungary, — in that day, little one, 
 
 * Veronica seems to have had much the same contempt for the /^av 
 TIKI) TExvr], as Jocasta of old. — See the CEdipus T)'rannus.
 
 110 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 when the eyes of the haughty shall be rebuked, wilt thou 
 shine, amongst the daughters of men, neither the humblest, 
 nor the most insigjiificant ; till when, thou wilt have to 
 struggle, with many a hard assay of privation, of sorrow, 
 and of peril.' Veronica," added her father, in a voice 
 rendered desperately calm, by his emotions, " the fulness 
 of time, appointed by the prophetess, draws nigh. That 
 packet contains thy destiny, and, if so, shall my child's 
 fate be locked up in its womb, and I not know it ? I will 
 fulfil the oracle !" and Hubert made a movement, as if to 
 receive back the packet, from the hands of Veronica, but 
 that high-spirited girl held the missive aloof, and, whilst 
 the pure flush of high-wrought feelings mantled her ever- 
 charming countenance, her fervid eye kindled into fire ; 
 an almost magnificent spirit seemed, at once, to animate 
 every nerve of her elastic form ; her lip quivered, and the 
 native energy of her character burst into full play, as she 
 demanded, almost in a tone of indignation, " Father, 
 what is it, you would do? — this is her highness's pro- 
 perty, and, let it contain what it may, it must not be in- 
 vaded." 
 
 "The time does not serve, Veronica," answered her 
 father, in a sullen tone, " to be deterred by idle delicacy, 
 or governed, by girlish scruples; the very ground, on 
 which I stand, is giving way under me. Your future 
 fortunes, my present interests, are at stake; nay, more, 
 my spent clew of life is now to be untwisted ; the chances 
 of my breathing upon earth, many days longer, resolve 
 themselves into one single cast — they are narrowed to 
 this solitary issue — whether or no, I make my breast the 
 depositary of a secret, which, though the Carpathians co- 
 vered it, will one day break out. Veronica, I am the 
 thrall of Fate ! On my forehead, at my birth, was branded 
 her cruel wrath. She cowered, with heavy and depressing 
 wing, over my cradle : she hath still clouded my 
 morning, and noon of life, and now, lowereth over its 
 close."
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 11 1 
 
 Veronica clenched her hands, and the big tears rolled 
 over her cheek. '* Oh, say not so, father ! you rend my 
 heart — my fortunes, and your life ! — they cannot have 
 any connexion with this enclosure, unless, perfidious as 
 the smooth ocean, you, yourself, entail it by basely be- 
 traying trust. Oh, my dearest parent, do not charge 
 yourself with this sin !" 
 
 " Veronica," said Hubert, " in respect to what you 
 ignorantly call the sin, I hope my purpose will plead my 
 excuse with my patron saint, who must needs be cogni- 
 zant of the extent of the wickedness, I am anxious to ex- 
 pose to the world, by sounding the depths of this myste- 
 rious packet." 
 
 "Was ever such deplorable casuistry?" exclaimed 
 Veronica ; ** think you, that the consummation, however 
 desirable, will justify the adoption of such means? Never, 
 believe me, dear father, in the eyes of heaven — evil is 
 not to be thought of, as a stepping-stone to attain some 
 hypothetical, and contingent benefit," 
 
 " Ay, there it is !" replied Hubert ; *' another leaf out 
 of the new-fangled moralities, that, for the first time since 
 the creation, have been broached and started, in this pre- 
 sumptuous age, to the great scandal, and horror of all 
 good catholics. Unhappily, my love, you were early in- 
 fected by your lamented mother, whom, therefore, may 
 the mother of God assoil, and, in due process of time, 
 take to her bosom !" And here Hubert devoutly crossed 
 himself. "However, child," he continued, "lest there 
 indeed lurk some portion of human infirmity, in the mo- 
 tives, which instigate me to dive into others' secrets, I 
 will not fail, on the earliest occasion, to make a free shrift 
 to our holy confessor, who, after proper penance, will, 
 doubtless absolve me; though, in sooth," he added, "the 
 twelve months' indulgence which, last Whitsuntide, I 
 purchased, ought, in equity, to cover any such venial 
 transgression, or, verily, my hongrees were ill -bestowed." 
 The father ended, and Veronica spoke.
 
 112 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 '' Oh ? apply not so assuasive an unction to your soul," 
 she replied, with animation; '' your fellow-creature 
 cannot, of himself, absolve you, neither will your Creator, 
 through his agency, if you so palter with his righteous 
 judgments, as, premeditatedly, to compromise your eternal 
 salvation, in the assurance of His forgiveness, and thus 
 convert His long-suffering and tender mercies, into an 
 apology of crime. 'Tis a rash venture, to play at fast- 
 and-loose with the Almighty: and oh! my dear father! 
 the horrible paction, you boast of, is a quieting opiate for 
 the conscience, to lull you to destruction. Were you to 
 trust to it, you would find it delusive, as the veriest iris, 
 that ever floated on the sunbeams. How can a creature 
 of clay, like ourselves, have authority to chaffer, with the 
 dispensations of the Most High?" 
 
 " No more, I charge you, on your duty, or you will 
 anger me," interrupted Hubert: ''how often have I to 
 repeat to you, that I may not listen to your impious ani- 
 madversions, upon our revered religion? I take heaven, 
 and the saints to witness, you have cost me more to 
 mother church, than the aggregate of my other offences." 
 
 " /, my father?" ejaculated Veronica. 
 
 " Yes; Veronica! the sin smells rank to heaven, by 
 which I was over-induced, at your erring mother's behest, 
 to have you bred, in her heretic persuasion. But now, 
 other business presses. Child, hand me the packet." 
 
 '^ Dear parent," replied Veronica, in a solemn and 
 animated tone ; " if religion deter you not, yet can you, — 
 dare you," — she paused. 
 
 "Well, child, well?" said Hubert, tetchily, but half 
 satisfied with this commencement, "what say you? " 
 
 " Will you," resumed Veronica, " inspect the pa- 
 pers, after the awful interdiction of this terrible scroll?" 
 and again she raised the sanguine script, which had 
 lain, during the discussion, unregarded on the table. 
 Whilst Hubert's eyes, involuntarily, settled on the 
 words, "that most miraculous orgran," which had made it-
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 
 
 113 
 
 self audible, a short time before, breathed again, along the 
 chamber, iterating, word for word, in a low tone, but 
 with most distinct articulation, the inhibition of the 
 blood-stained scroll, — '^Open the deposit, confided to you, 
 at your peril." Both caught the words, each one of 
 them, and all of them together; and their cheeks turned 
 deadly white, as, starting, they instinctively looked around 
 in the expectation of beholding the speaker. But the 
 being, from whom the aerial premonition descended, was 
 not to be seen. Their eyes, with objectless horror, 
 sharpened almost to agony, scanned enquiringly every 
 inch of the visible apartment, and sought, with invo- 
 luntary eagerness, the unpenetrated places around. 
 Still, though a wdder scope was afforded to the imagina- 
 tion, than to the senses, for the feeble glare of the hearth 
 contended, but faintly, with the darkness, in the extremity 
 of the chamber, their search was sent in vain; and 
 if vitality, besides their own, pervaded that chamber, it 
 must have borne such a shape, as mortal vision might not 
 grasp, nor, perhaps, mortal mind conceive. After taking 
 a survey of all, within the scope of sight, the eyes of Ve- 
 ronica, and of her father encountered, each seeking to 
 read, in the troubled expression of the other, as in a page, 
 whose story terror inscribed, the answer to the query, 
 trembling on both their lips, what can it mean? A curd- 
 ling awe tingled, through every pore, like so many needle 
 points of ice. Not half an hour had elapsed, since the 
 father's senses had been startled, by the same appalling 
 voice, and something whispered coldly within, that the 
 invisible, who had twice premonished him, was the same, 
 who had inscribed the prohibition to unclose the packet, 
 And yet, what were the contents of this deposit, argued 
 Hubert with himself, to a spiritualised being, fresh from 
 the everlasting paradise of souls ? "St. Hubert pardon me 
 if I err ! but the veins of a phantom are not like to swell, 
 with the crimson tide of life. A hem! 'tis a moot ques- 
 tion." To form any hypothesis, which could explain to
 
 114 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 him the mystery, was a vain endeavour; and again Hu- 
 bert ranged his eye, with a bloodshot, and unquiet glare, 
 in the direction of the inner threshold, where all objects 
 lay in deceptive shadow. But, however an over-wrought 
 imagination might suggest, the baffled vision sought, in 
 vain, for any defined outline, in the far gloom of the 
 passage, though the sense of hearing, now become mor- 
 bidly acute, was " alarum'd," every instant, by the rust- 
 ling breath of the night-air. As for Veronica, she sat 
 for long, wholly inanimate and unconscious, with white 
 face, and both hands clasped on her eyes, and forehead. 
 The admonition, ratified in blood, dropped from her 
 relaxed hold, unconsciously. Then Hubert, deriving, 
 like the ostrich in the fable, a false courage, from wilfully 
 blinding himself to the actual hazard of his position, 
 suflfered the short-sighted, though subtle policy of his 
 nature, to thrust itself, before the wisdom, that should 
 have controuled it. He snatched the document, out of his 
 daughter's yielding hands, and, in the same instant, tore 
 oflP the twisted silken braid, and burst open the outer 
 covering. So great, indeed, was the degree of nervous 
 violence, with which he unripped the seals, and jerked 
 asunder the envelope, that the enclosures were dispersed 
 on every side. 
 
 Then first it was, that Veronica testified some sense of 
 what was going on, and her returning consciousness 
 was evinced, by a cry of terror. She carried her hand to 
 her brow, in bitter anguish ; beholding, in dim perspec- 
 tive, the sad train of calamity, consequent upon the 
 false step of the last minute. But the fatal deed was 
 done ! — there was no receding. The integrity of the trust, 
 placed in her father's hands, had been broken. Millions 
 of worlds could not buy back again that violated seal, 
 nor oceans of tears wash away the consequence. What 
 acumen can match that of the human heart, impelled to 
 action, by the apprehensions of attachment? It will con- 
 centrate, in one convulsive throb, all the lights of
 
 Manuscript hi. 115 
 
 experience, and all the tact of intuition. 'Tis that 
 '* true wisdom, " which Lord Shaftesbury so beauti- 
 fully insists upon ; — 'tis indeed something better, than 
 reason and knowledge, being the principle and origin 
 of it.* Thus, with a single glance of her heart's eye, 
 Veronica comprehended the heinousness of the fault, 
 and the fatal expiation, it involved. Oh! why, in this 
 evil world, doth the principle of sin extend, beyond the 
 guilty, and defile, in some measure, with its deadly virus, 
 all, within the sphere of its contagion ? Oh ! why is it, 
 there is no escape from its all-pervading fascination ? Why 
 is it, that the innocent have to answer for lapses and of- 
 fences, not their own, and although guiltless of the wrong, 
 are made partakers of the anguish ? If the penalty of error 
 lit only on the head of the erring; if the just penance, 
 dodging the heels of crime, only overtook the criminal; if 
 the atonement of sin were singly offered up, by the sweat 
 of the sinner's brow, or the desolate bitterness of the sin- 
 ner's heart, the divine economy would better accord, in our 
 short-sighted judgment, with that of an all-righteous Pro- 
 vidence. But wherefore expostulate with Omniscience? 
 Assuredly an hour will arrive, when this, and all other 
 difficulties,! that darken the ways of Him, who inha- 
 biteth infinity, will be illustrated, and the full sunshine 
 of heaven break forth, in all its truth, and all its splen- 
 dour. But, till His "kingdom come," it is not given 
 to our limited faculties, to attempt, what peradventurethe 
 angel nearest his councils might vainly conceit — to gauge 
 the depths of Eternal wisdom : — 
 
 " Purblind man 
 
 Sees but a part o'the chain, the nearest link ; 
 
 His eyes not carrying to that equal beam, 
 
 That poises all above." J 
 
 * \oy« ffpx^ "u \oyog aXX ti KpeiTov. — Aristotle. 
 
 t See chapter xxxviii of the Morals of Epictetus : — where the ten- 
 dency of mankind to atheism, from like causes, is shown, and com- 
 mented on. 
 
 t Dryden.
 
 116 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Let US return, from this digression, to the course of the 
 history ; — 
 
 " Oh my dearest father ! " exclaimed Veronica, in a 
 voice, half choked by contending emotions, " in what 
 terms will you reply to her grace, when this packet shall 
 be demanded of you ? " She would have said more, but 
 here her loud sobs interrupted her intended expostula- 
 tion. 
 
 Hubert strove to hide from his daughter, the impres- 
 sion, which her manifest anguish made on him, by occu- 
 pying himself, in gathering together the various enclosures 
 from off the floor. Assuming as composed a tone, as his 
 feelings would admit of, he said : '* There is something 
 working here, which tells me, that these writings, (and 
 he placed them on the table), interest you, Veronica, in- 
 finitely more, than they concern her, unto whom they are 
 addressed." 
 
 "This is the very excess of wilful self-deception," an- 
 swered Veronica ; '* the merest coinage of the imagi- 
 nation. Speak not of me, my sire. Tell me not, these 
 papers bear any reference to me ; but," she continued, 
 in a burst of feverish anxiety, and with almost a shriek 
 of sudden terror, ''devise, think, ponder, do, ere it be 
 too late, upon some means to avert the catastrophe, 
 which the infatuation of an instant may have entailed. 
 See, see, already the flickering grey, in yonder skies," 
 (and she pointed, through the casement, to where the 
 morning star ' began to pale her ineffectual fires ' ) " an- 
 nounces the approach of dawn. Oh, be speedy then ! 'tis 
 a matter of life and death, we are upon, — every instant 
 teems with fate. Father, what's to be done ? Let us 
 consult, — consult for both our lives." 
 
 The eyes of Veronica filled with tears, as, painfully 
 affected, by her own earnest words, she sank upon a seat. 
 Her appeal shot into the soul of her sire, who secretly 
 regretted his precipitance, and almost wished the deed 
 undone ; but he had now proceeded too far, to be diverted
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 117 
 
 from his course of action, by reproaclies or arguments. 
 He was irresistibly impressed with the belief, that nothing 
 remained, in this pressing emergence, except to make the 
 most of such materials, as his treachery had provided. 
 He was filled with a wild, but profound conviction, that, 
 by means of the documents in question, he was ordained 
 to achieve an important discovery, which would go far 
 to wipe out the offences of his late life, and which might 
 place him in a position, where, instead of needing an 
 indemnity, he might himself command a recompence, — 
 
 A COMPENSATION. 
 
 Certain severe afflictions, that had wintered the heart 
 of Hubert, several years antecedent to the present epoch, 
 made the glimpse of sunshine, which he here forecasted, 
 peculiarly gratifying; and, moreover, subsequent to 
 the augury above narrated, a strange mysterious confes- 
 sion, of which he had been made the involuntary audi- 
 tor, seemed, at once, to hold out a probability of such 
 a consummation,^ and to indicate, that its advent was not 
 distant. As we shall, hereafter, have occasion to recur 
 to the collateral incidents, we now barely glance at, we 
 would merely observe, in this place, that they possessed, 
 for the breast of Hubert, an anxious interest, from their 
 being connected, with the mystery and importance of the 
 identical packet, he had received from Ragotzy. Only 
 through his daughter's agency, was he likely to arrive at 
 that knowledge, for which his soul panted ; but he began 
 to despair of moving a resolution, which he found more 
 deeply rooted, than he could have anticipated. 
 
 At length, calming his feelings to meet the occasion, 
 irresolutely, he addressed her, "■ Veronica, edes kint- 
 sem,"* he said, with a reluctant, and insinuating voice, 
 "it matters not, whether 1 take advantage of the inadver- 
 tance, you condemn, if, as I trust, my precipitance be 
 considered venial, the consequences will be proportion- 
 
 * Dear love.
 
 118 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 able ; otherwise, I may have to undergo a commensurate 
 punishment : in neither case, however, will any doubt be 
 entertained of my having perused these papers, and it 
 would be to no purpose attesting my innocence. Now 
 that the envelop is torn asunder, any assertion of the sort 
 would seem to carry falsehood on its very face. Away 
 then with your apprehensions of still further committing 
 ourselves — that, I tell you, is impossible; nor can we 
 better evade our doom, than by making the very spoil, 
 in which consists our danger, the vantage-ground of 
 our deliverance. — Veronica," he added, impressively, 
 " echoes are ringing in my brain, and in my heart, which 
 assure me, that the purport of these writings is linked 
 and entwined, in some extraordinary way, with your 
 destiny. The blaze of fate and prophecy is in these 
 enclosures. Read then, love, with eagle's eyes, and 
 hasten their lagging justice. Read, and relieve me of 
 that dreadful suspense, which, for so long, hath harrowed 
 up my being, under calamities, that might make Patience 
 herself grow wild, and tilt at her own shadow. I shall 
 have, in no long time, to prepare for the sunrise muster. 
 Dearest! he presently subjoined, whilst a glance of im- 
 patience stole from under his lowering brows, for our 
 Lady's sake, take up the papers, and read." 
 
 " Oh ! how I regret, I may not here oblige you," 
 answered Veronica, in a low, determined voice: " I would 
 die ! yea, not a vein I wear, but I would lance, to plea- 
 sure you ; only not this, no, not this, father." She ceased, 
 clasping her hands, and looking upward, but her voice 
 became too choaked to proceed. 
 
 *' Because," answered Hubert, with heat, '* this happens 
 to be the particular, I require of you — you'd die forsooth 
 to please me ! ay, Veronica, 'tis an easy thing to say, but 
 I do not ask of you to rip your veins up, I merely entreat 
 of a child to save her parent, and, influenced by the pride 
 of opinion, she refuses." 
 
 " Oh ! put it not thus," replied Veronica; " you desire
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 119 
 
 me to do that, which must be sinful in the eyes of God, 
 and I would not, knowingly, incur his anger." 
 
 " Be, what you designate a sin on my head, Veronica ; 
 I take it all, freely, and without reserve," said Hubert. 
 
 " But you may not thus stand betwixt me, and my 
 maker," interposed Veronica, with the look of an admo- 
 nitory angel, "since every one will have to suffer, in him- 
 self, the measure of his individual transgression. — Oh ! 
 my beloved father!" she continued, (whilst her enthu- 
 siastic temperament glowed with intense, and high-minded 
 affection,) " permit me to point out to you the strait line 
 of duty : — carry these papers, as soon as you return from 
 the parade, to queen Isabella. Inform her, how they 
 came into your possession ; admit that, under some in- 
 fatuation, you ventured to break the seal, but that, after- 
 wards, on repenting of your error, you resolved to con- 
 vey the documents to her royal hands, with their contents 
 inviolate." 
 
 *' Do this, father: cast yourself boldly upon Isabella's 
 goodness, and leave the result to Providence." 
 
 At this reply, so unreservedly pronounced, Hubert lost 
 all patience. " Jesu Maria!" he exclaimed, in a raised 
 voice, " was ever such infatuation ! — proceed to the palace ! 
 — you counsel like a child, in ignorance of the ways of 
 this wrong world Were I to square my policy by your 
 abstract notions of right, I should march to inevitable 
 destruction. Oh! if you love me, forego the scruples of 
 a too sensitive conscience, which, let me tell you, child, in 
 one so young, as thou art, must be a very unstable guide, 
 and monitor, and ought to be subjected to the more com- 
 petent direction of some holy minister. Veronica, have I 
 not ever been indulgent to you ?" 
 
 ** Indeed, indeed," she replied, in a weeping accent; 
 ** from my earliest memory unto the present hour, you 
 have ever shewn yourself the kindest father and the tender- 
 est friend, in the strictest sense of those endearing titles." 
 
 **Then do you bless, and requite me for all," responded
 
 120 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Hubert: '* it is your peculiar province; here, kintsaso* 
 receive the papers." 
 
 ** Oh, no more! by these tears, no more! I beg," 
 mournfully replied the maiden, pressing her father's hand 
 to her lips ; but, though she still declined, the quivering 
 of her voice seemed to evince a greater struggle within, 
 than she v^ished should be apparent. 
 
 Hubert could withhold his wrath no longer. " You will 
 not retract your cruel resolution," he exclaimed ; "■ hear 
 it, Holy Mary ! Behold it, sainted Hubert ! A daughter 
 declines to stretch out a finger, to save her father's life ! I 
 tell you, unnatural girl," he went on, in increased anger, 
 *' in the teeth of your heretic persuasion, that it is not 
 agreeable to the great Sire of all, to see a child dispute his 
 injunctions, by whom she hath breath and life. Oh ! 
 there is nothing, I trow, more surely tasks the vengeance 
 of the saints, than filial ingratitude." 
 
 Veronica would not trust her voice with any reply, but 
 throwing herself on her knees, at the feet of Hubert, as he 
 delivered the last stern sentence, vented her feeling, in the 
 anguish of bitter tears. 
 
 But another auditor was nigh ; one, who, invisible 
 and unknown, had drank in every syllable, that had 
 fallen from the lips of Veronica, and who had been a 
 rapt listener of the discussion, between her and Hubert. 
 He did full justice to the inflexible texture of her nature, 
 and appreciated the accuracy and purity of her judgment ; 
 whilst, in her intrepid avowal of her sentiments, he recog- 
 nised elements of mind, congenial to the magnanimity of 
 his own bosom. He overheard all ; and afterwards, there 
 were moments, when, in the gorgeous residence of kings, 
 and in the sacred receptacles of piety, the remembrance 
 would almost unman him, when, amidst all the delicious 
 strife of empire, and the pride of fame, and the consola- 
 tions of religion, he would recal to his mind, the steadfast 
 
 * Darling^.
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 121 
 
 disobedience of this right-thinking maiden, whom neither 
 threats nor entreaties could prevail upon, to act in oppo- 
 sition to the dictates of her conscience. 
 
 Veronica was still kneeling at the feet of Hubert, and 
 bitterly lamenting, as if her heart would burst, when, 
 suddenly, a faint distant noise without, challenged atten- 
 tion, and awakened the moonlit silence of the night. 
 Hubert listened, and changed colour — the deep hum ga- 
 thered, as it came on, and became gradually more thick, 
 and louder, sounding like the monotonous tramp, and 
 clash of armed soldiers. 
 
 ** Listen!" exclaimed Hubert, starting up, in a voice 
 which bespoke his inward anxiety. 
 
 The sound continued to roll nearer and nearer. At 
 length, the military reached the house, where they made a 
 sudden halt. Veronica sprung upon her feet, and the 
 unusual occurrence effectually startled her out of her 
 tears. Breathless with alarm, they both stood, mute and 
 still, looking at one another, in the attitude of listening. 
 The silence, however, was but momentary : soon violent 
 knocks resounded against the door, and a voice was heard, 
 demanding admittance, in a tone of authority. The mo- 
 ment was full of fate. To huddle together the several 
 papers, from off the table, into their original envelope— to 
 elevate the near window-seat, and inchest the packet, in 
 company with the mysterious scroll, within its cavity, 
 was, with Hubert, the affair of a moment : the hollow 
 within served the purpose of a trunk, and was the safer 
 place of concealment, inasmuch as its lid formed a 
 wooden seat, projecting from beneath the casement. At 
 the same instant that he shut down the covering, he cast 
 a significant look, at his pale daughter, and then went, and 
 undid the clumsy fastening of the street-door. Immedi- 
 ately on its being thrown open, a file of soldiers crowded 
 into the humble chamber, which soon became fully OC' 
 cupied. The commander of the detachment stepped 
 forward, and, bending stiffly, addressed himself to 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Hubert : *' You are the captain of the night-guard, I 
 presume ?" 
 
 ^* Even so ; and you the Graf Bathori, if I mistake 
 not ?" answered the other. 
 
 '^Then, sir, I attach you, on account of certain crimes 
 and misdemeanours, touching the state. Do you," con- 
 tinued the speaker, turning to a soldier, " examine the 
 habit of this man, whether there be any thing treasonable 
 upon him — some of you search the house, and whom- 
 soever you find, conduct hither." 
 
 In obedience to this order, two of the men quitted the 
 room ; another approached Hubert, who, stepping back, 
 motioned him off, with a determined gesture, while he 
 turned to Bathori, and, with a more collected mien, and 
 in a firmer voice, than could have been expected, con- 
 sidering his critical situation, requested to be informed, by 
 whose authority he acted. 
 
 " You cannot suppose," he said, " that I shall submit 
 to this arbitrary caption, at your mandate, unless you can 
 produce legal, and sufficient grounds for the procedure." 
 
 "There is my warrant ; satisfy yourself:" and thus 
 speaking, the baron presented him, with the lettre de 
 cachet, for his arrest. " You perceive," he added, as 
 Hubert looked it over, "it has affixed to it the lord re- 
 gent's sign manual." 
 
 " Martinuzzi ! hem ! so, so !" muttered Hubert indis- 
 tinctly to himself, whilst an inexplicable expression stole 
 over his sallow features. " Comes the arrow out of that 
 quiver?" He paused, as if lost in thought. Quickly 
 recovering himself, he gave back the warrant, with a 
 slight obeisance, to the officer, saying, " I acknowledge 
 the formula, and am ready to follow you." 
 
 The soldier then proceeded to search him, but nothing 
 of any consequence was found upon his person. Mean- 
 wliile Veronica had drawn herself, with an involuntary 
 sort of motion, close by the side of her father, and, twin- 
 ing his arm into hers, stood, with a countenance, as pale,
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 123 
 
 as if she had just risen from the grave. She did not 
 weep — she could not ; she held her hand to her bosom, 
 which lieaved, in rapid rise and fall, against her bodice, 
 but her thoughts " lay too deep for tears." She perhaps 
 reflected, that they had " fallen on evil times," when 
 treason and tyranny, reciprocally, begot each other, and 
 when there was but one step, from the dungeon to the 
 scafibld. That fatal grade, it was commonly reported, 
 followed closely on imprisonment, and an internal spasm 
 agonized her young heart, like the earnest of anticipated 
 orphanage. One of the men returned, and communicated, 
 in a low voice, with his commander. The latter said 
 something that was inaudible, adding aloud, "Molest 
 him not." The man bowed, and immediately again left 
 the apartment. 
 
 The heart of Veronica beat thickly. " Father," she 
 warbled, in a thrilling and silvery whisper, that vibrated 
 to all the deep feelings of that father's heart, '' where 
 thou sojournest, there will I abide ; they shall not part us.'' 
 
 Hubert took her bloodless hand in his, and pressed it 
 to his lips. By and bye, a commotion, indicating some 
 new cause of alarm, became audible, and a most peculiar 
 voice broke out into objurgations and complaint. A 
 struggle within the narrow passage followed. Veronica 
 was not slov.' in recognizing the harsh intonation of the 
 ancient housekeeper. Her outcries resounded through 
 the hous2 ; but, malgre every saint in the calendar, and, 
 what was more, despite of tooth and nail, her captors 
 succeeded in hauling their prize, into the room ; and surely 
 (to use the eloquent apostrophe of Burke) " never before 
 lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a 
 more resplendent vision." In truth, the old domestic 
 was a very giant of a woman, and could only be borne in 
 the arms of the two soldiers, by dint of main force; the 
 handkerchief, which had bound her head, in lieu of a 
 night-cap, had fallen oiT in the scuffle, and hung sus- 
 pended from her neck ; her long, lanky, grey hairs stream- 
 
 g2
 
 124 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ed, like those of a sybil, in every direction ; and she 
 exerted her bare arms and legs, with an energy of good 
 will, not at all common. And now outspake the officer : 
 '' Let the Kurvanya* loose," he vociferated, in a key, an 
 octave higher, than the shrill clamour of the housekeeper. 
 The men, immediately, set the robust virago on her feet, 
 who, darting forward, with a strange straddling sort of 
 locomotion, to where her master and Veronica were sta- 
 tioned, and, having likewise recovered her enjoyment of 
 speech, seemed disposed to make liberal use of her privilege. 
 
 "Well-a-day !" she began, in a harsh and grating voice; 
 but Baron Bathori cut her oration short, in limine, by 
 commanding silence. Then addressing himself to Hubert, 
 he said, " You must accompany me to the castle forth- 
 with. Soldiers, secure the prisoner." At the word, two 
 of the company grounded their muskets, at Hubert's side. 
 Then it was, that Veronica prostrated herself, before the 
 officer, and, raising her voice, exclaimed, in an accent of 
 the most touching pathos, *' Permit me, sir, to accom- 
 pany my dear father whithersoever he goeth ; it is the 
 especial privilege of a child to tend her parent, and there- 
 fore you will accede to my prayer." 
 
 " Willingly," answered the officer, making a motion to 
 raise her from his feet, which she firmly resisted — " were 
 the option mine ; but my orders extend only to the per- 
 son of your father, and I cannot, on any account, depart 
 from their letter." 
 
 For a bitter moment, the shock of this repulse seemed 
 to overwhelm the beautiful suppliant, and she suffered 
 her head to droop, in disappointment. "Good God!" 
 she ejaculated, "do not say that; you cannot have the 
 heart to mean it. It is impossible ! Oh ! yet," she pro- 
 ceeded again, elevating her rich countenance, " vouch- 
 safe me this single indulgence, and Heaven bless you, sir." 
 
 She ceased. The agonized tone, with which these words 
 
 * Kurvanya may be grossly rendered, Mother of harlots.
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 125 
 
 were uttered, produced a sensation of secret sympathy, in 
 all, who heard them. Her glittering tresses had burst 
 their braided trammels, and fell, in glossy mazes, from her 
 upraised head, adown her round, long, full, regal throat, 
 and fairest bosom, looking, like the foliage of the cypress, 
 floating over purest statuary-marble ; her small clinched 
 hands were outstretched, her upcast burning eyes contra- 
 dicted the death-like paleness of her countenance, and 
 her ^exuberant, and dimpled lips, pale with their proper 
 odours, were partly open, whence her breath, suspended 
 with her fate, hardly gave signs of life ; but her little 
 heart knocked perceptibly, at her bosom, like an unfledged 
 bird, against its bars. Hushed to silence was every other 
 sound — the agonizing pulsations of that heart were alone 
 audible. As she thus knelt, with her upward counte- 
 nance, her hands clasped in each other, and the exquisite 
 symmetry of her flexible form, set off, by her drooping 
 dress, which, from her having slipped it on in haste, was 
 left a good deal disordered. Veronica presented a study, 
 such as Chantrey himself might not have disdained to 
 make immortal, in the modelling of a Naiad. There was 
 in that startling moment the silence of deep feeling, which 
 the young Bathori might hardly abide ; but he remembered, 
 that he had a paramount duty to perform, and strung 
 himself for the task accordingly. Again, he would have 
 raised the pallid girl from her incumbent posture, but she 
 defeated his object, exclaiming, in an impassioned voice — 
 *' Let my knees grow to the earth, till thou yieldest to my 
 agony; say only one word, yes — say yes — I conjure 
 thee, sir, in the tenderest name of filial piety, to have 
 mercy on us both. Oh ! bethink you, what it is, to be 
 thrown into captivity, to drag, day after day, a galling 
 chain — I mean, not that on the body, but on the free 
 mind — to be borne down, without having a friend to 
 relieve the ceaseless pressure, on the overwrought spirit. 
 Oh ! give me leave to attend my father — our lives are 
 twisted on one thread, and cannot be spent asunder.'
 
 126 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDEf.Y. 
 
 Tims saying, she uplifted her imploring eyes, to the face 
 of the official, anxiously abiding his next word. 
 
 Bathori remained unmoved, though his voice was tre- 
 mulous, as he replied, " It may not be ;" and he turned 
 aside, to conceal, and get rid of an emotion, that did him 
 honour. 
 
 " It may not be : march !" — "No — halt ! every one," 
 cried the half-distracted maiden, with a scream, that thrilled 
 through the very bones of her listeners ; then, with the 
 grace of a fawn, she bounded on her feet, and flinging 
 herself upon Hubert's bosom, wreathed her lily arms 
 around his neck. Presently, fixing her large and glori- 
 ous eyes, on the officer, as if she would dart into his very 
 soul, she said, "Let me rest here — it is my father's 
 breast, on which I lay my head. If you tear the sapling 
 from its stem, will it not perish ? Sir, overpass your war- 
 rant, at your peril ; think not, that I will be murdered 
 tamely. If you rend the ivy from the trunk which nou- 
 rished it, will it not droop and die ? At your peril, I say ; 
 I stand upon my rights. Read — read, sir, the warrant, 
 that is in your hand, or that behind, that blacker instru- 
 ment, which commands my father's execution. I know 
 your tricks of state, but neither in one, nor in the other, 
 do you find my death compassed. I stand upon my 
 rights. If you tear my father, from the cordage of these 
 arms, I die, broken-hearted — broken-hearted ! I will not 
 be murdered — see to it — it is not in the writ." 
 
 So rapidly was this passionate appeal poured forth, 
 with the overpowering intonation of despair, that Ba- 
 thori, who alone possessed the authority, felt too much 
 overawed himself, for some time, to interfere. 
 
 " I will thank you, sir," at length he said, again ad- 
 dressing himself to Hubert; " to prevail upon your 
 daughter, to submit, patiently, to what my duty obliges 
 me. I really trusted, ere now, to have lodged you in 
 the castle." 
 
 Hubert turned to his daughter, and, with a gesture, that
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 127 
 
 intimated the uselessness of further opposition, signed to 
 her to obey. But the enthusiastic girl, clinging closer 
 to his neck, exclaimed: — " They will have hard work, 
 who tear thee from me, father. To the castle, with all 
 my heart, — let us be taken thither." 
 
 ** Ay! but together.'' 
 
 "Yes," she added, and the piercing tones of her voice 
 sunk, in her father's ear, to a whisper, which seemed to 
 express the very soul of filial affection, — '•' it shall be to- 
 gether,''' 
 
 Then Bathori, in a subdued, but settled voice, said to 
 those next him, — " Secure the prisoner, and detain the 
 maiden." The command was barely issued, when it was 
 obeyed; and Veronica was hardly made aware of their 
 purpose, before she found it executed. The new moon 
 was colouring the horizon, and all was chill, and comfort- 
 less, as the hour, as Bathori turned abruptly from the 
 house. A few men-at-arms defiled after him. 
 
 The adjutant motioned to the unhappy father, who, 
 with impassive eye and lips, lingered, for a minute, con- 
 templating the well-nigh lifeless form of his adored child, 
 painted, in the tender rays of that matin hour. Oh! what 
 a long history may sometimes be melted down, into a 
 minute's pang! What a world of retrospection; what 
 thoughts, and feelings, tumultuous, and intense, may be 
 epitomized into the interval, even of a minute! '' While 
 the body lives half a pulse's stroke," — ay, even in so 
 brief a section on the dial-plate of human life — 
 
 " The phantoms of a thousand hours, 
 Each from his voiceless grave,"* 
 
 thronged, with dreadful concentration, on Hubert's mind; 
 and, as some obliterated scroll, instantly, yields back its 
 latent inscription, at the spell of science; so the past 
 events of Hubert's life, touched by the fierce chemistry 
 
 * Shelley.
 
 128 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 of remorse, were, on a sudden, broug:ht up into view, in 
 tints, as fresh and as vivid, as when they livingly greeted, 
 and soothed his feelings, in the dawn, and meridian of his 
 existence. Lo! in the sliape of the being before him, he 
 beheld her mother, as when first, in the bloom of youth, 
 and rank, and opulence, she linked her destiny, with his. 
 But one offspring blessed their union ; and, heavens! how 
 the hearts of the fond parents came to repose, on the little 
 Veronica. Surely, never was a babe more lovely! And 
 the infant grew, and waxed in years, and beauty ; and the 
 dear prattler is their joy; yea, in all the bitterness of 
 their lot, under the pressure of calamity, stricken by the 
 anathema of Heaven, they would kiss their child, and be 
 grateful. Her happiness was their day-star, from on 
 high, glittering, in the horizon of a brilliant to-morrow, 
 and shedding the prospective light of hope, and consola- 
 tion. The cherub lost her mother; and Hubert, holding 
 the innocent child in his arms, breathed the incense of a 
 vow, over the manes of his Veronica, and resolved, for 
 that child's interests to live — for her sake, to strain every 
 exertion, that he might one day reinstate her, in her 
 proper sphere, apart from the ordinary dwelling-place 
 of mortals, the vapours, and the storms, which deform, 
 and disturb the moral hemisphere; enshrining her — 
 
 " In regions mild, of calm and serene air. 
 Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, 
 Which men call earth." 
 
 But more especially, he vowed to train her, in the paths of 
 purity, and peace; to save her, by his parental providence — 
 by his unsleeping care, from the assaults, and machina- 
 tions of an unfeeling generation. Great God of the 
 quick and dead! How had he redeemed his oath? Driven 
 from error to crime, yielding to temptation after tempta- 
 tion, sacrificing all he held dear, either to some sordid 
 calculation, or new object of selfishness, his deeds had 
 gradually sunk their condition in life, to one of compara-
 
 MANUSCRIPT III. 1"29 
 
 tive destitution ; had blasted the prospects of his throne — 
 destined treasure — of the being, on whom he had only to 
 think, to become — 
 
 " Patient as the female dove, 
 When that her golden couplets are disclosed." 
 
 Well, that may be a rankling reflection, but it hath its 
 consolation — she is left him, for a stay, amidst all his ca- 
 lamities; his potent arm might yet protect her ; his pre- 
 sence, evermore, watch over her, guard her, from every 
 sin, and shield her, from the sharp visitation of this 
 wrong world! — ^' How so?" and tumultuous memory re- 
 curred to the travail of the fearful present. Hubert 
 looked about him bewildered. Full streamed the cold 
 grey light of dawn, through the open portal, shedding a 
 lurid, and terrible, distinctness on the melancholy scene. 
 *^How so?"' half shrieked aloud again, the wretched man, 
 in the accessof his agony — ''Where then is my Veronica? 
 Deserted ! pennyless ! insensible, in the arms of strangers! 
 How ? can her father, who is so pledged, and who loves 
 her, with the intense love of that close connexion, violate 
 his oath ? He abandons his child because of his crimes. 
 He goes, — ha! to what bourne am I bound? — perhaps 
 thescafFold!" 
 
 The colour, which had been varying, on the cheek of 
 Veronica, at this instant, wholly fled. One languid look 
 she cast, towards her distracted parent, and then sunk 
 motionless, into the arms of the old housekeeper, as, under 
 the escort of the guard, Hubert rushed, from the apart- 
 ment.
 
 130 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 
 
 For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower, 
 Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, 
 As I, until before me stand, 
 This rebel chieftain and his band. 
 Have then thy wish." 
 
 The Lady of the Lake. 
 
 It was noon, — 
 
 " The noon of autumn's glow. 
 When a soft and purple mist. 
 Like a vap'rous amethyst, 
 Fills the overflowing sky ;" * 
 
 the sun rolled afar, through the cloudless expanse above, 
 in all the beneficent majesty of light ; the gentlest breezes 
 swept along the surface of God's earth, blessed, by his 
 minute providence, with one of those sharp sparkling- 
 days, when the vigorous freshness of the autumnal air 
 proves so stirring to the spirit, and so bracing to the 
 frame of man. "The round world jocund laughed." 
 The levee of the lord regent of Hungary was attended 
 by ambassadors from many courts, by ecclesiastics, and 
 by military adventurers. They comprised the learned, 
 the pious, and the enterprising — men, who were the master- 
 spirits of that adventurous period, but who, nevertheless, 
 shone, like lesser lights, within the orbit of Martinuzzi. 
 The castle of Hermanstadt was of remote antiquity, 
 having been built by Herman of Nuremberg, who followed 
 Gisele, the consort of St. Stephen, into Hungary. The 
 
 * Shelley.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 131 
 
 antient seal of the city attests this. It bore the impres- 
 sion of a tower, circumscribed, with the following words, 
 in the Roman character '^ Sigillum civium de villa 
 Hermanni." * The site, on which the citadel was 
 built, had been perforated, with subterranean passages, 
 leading to various parts of the city, and without the 
 ramparts. A long, narrow, and embattled gallery of the 
 castle, laterally overlooked an inner court-yard, athwart 
 which was drawn up, at the time we speak of, in military 
 order, a troop of Pvlartinuzzi's mercenaries. In this 
 gallery, apart from the courtly assemblage, stood Count 
 Ragotzy, unnoticed, as he believed, by any one, gazing 
 abroad, with vacant eye, and evidently sunk deep, in re- 
 verie, or rumination. This gallery, which formed a heavy, 
 and artificial recess in the building, was flanked by a stone 
 balustrade, or parapet of unusual height. It was acces- 
 sible, by means of massive, and folding doors, at present 
 unclosed, which opened, from a sort of semicircular 
 vestibule, within the castle. Here and there, this battle- 
 mented bartizan commanded a striking prospect; it 
 looked out upon the capital, whose " dull palaces, and 
 dirty hovels," as we before stated, were proudly throned, 
 over the shelving site of two detached, but trifling emi- 
 nences, which were united, by a massy gate-way, at the 
 base, or interjacent hollow. 
 
 The city of Hermanstadt, or Czeben, as it is called, by 
 the Hungarians, dominated in the midst of an extensive 
 plain. On one side, it was protected by its powerful 
 citadel, and by the rocky precipice, we before mentioned ; 
 elsewhere it was defended, by massive walls, studded with 
 immense towers, and the fortifications were surrounded 
 by a fosse ; " fort large, et rempli de I'eau de deux ruis- 
 seux qui viennent des montagnes voisines."t 
 
 The eye of Count Ragotzy glanced rapidly over these 
 defences, beyond which, the rays of the sun lighted up 
 
 * Thuruczius. Chronici, P. 11. cap. 18. 
 t Memoires du Prince RaVoczy.
 
 132 MANUSCRIPIS OF EIIDELY. 
 
 certain white pavilions, whicli the infidel banners, floating 
 against the sky, proclaimed for an Ottoman encampment. 
 From where the Count was stationed, he might pursue a 
 considerable part of the coarse of the river Olt, as it 
 winded, among a slight ridge of hills, which melt irregu- 
 larly down, into the plains, that abruptly terminate, at the 
 famous ororo-e of the Rothenturn, or Red Tower. To the 
 north, the more level country stretched its huge, and black 
 forests, in graceful outline, till they became lost, in the 
 semicircular chain of the Carpathians. These rugged 
 mountains, that, like an azure girdle, bound the horizon, 
 in the clear distance, seemed to supersede any necessity, 
 for the warrior towers, and bulwarks, which were locked 
 up, in their embraces. 
 
 Such a combination of nature and art, might have well 
 won the chieftain's eye, to dwell delightedly on its beau- 
 ties; but had the panorama even exceeded in loveliness, 
 what we have attempted to describe, which might hardly 
 be to a soldier's thinking,* it would have brought no 
 relief, at that moment, to the stern, and iron colouring of 
 Count Ragotzy's meditations. He leaned, indeed, over 
 the parapet, and to a casual observer, would have seemed 
 to be entranced, with the landscape, which lay, silent, and 
 steeped,, in the plenitude of light, and sunshine, beneath 
 his feet ; but his glances all turned, in reality, to what was 
 imaged, within his ow^n bosom — his mind was its own 
 mirror. He looked on the lineaments of nature, with in- 
 difference, or unconsciousness. He contemplated the 
 deep blue expanse of heaven above him, and beheld the 
 day-god, in his meridian hour, shed virgin light over 
 half the world, with an unheeding eye, and neither did the 
 
 * Lepeuquej'ai dit de ces plateaux a cotes roides et couvertes de 
 brousailles de fonds d'etangs des vallons et de riviere serpentants, 
 enfin de haute montagnes que contiennent dans leurs detours des bastions 
 impenetrables environnees de rochers en forme de caves, suffit a demon- 
 trer les advantages pour la guerre. — Description of Transylvania, in 
 Mem. du Prince Rakoczy.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 133 
 
 warmth cheer, and fill the soul with serenity, nor the 
 golden shadowless radiance touch, and lay its turbulent 
 passions at rest. Alas ! there is no surer obstacle to such 
 complacency, and pure satisfaction, than the habit of mind, 
 induced by selfishness, and sin; and it would seem to be 
 the intention Qf Providence, that the laudable sensibility 
 to the excellencies of nature (which certainly offer the 
 most unalloyed of sublunary enjoyments,) should be 
 possessed only, by the single-minded, and the " unspotted 
 before the world" — " Sunt, qui formidine nulla imbuti 
 spectent." 
 
 Within the vestibule, or porch to the temple before- 
 mentioned, some of the usual hangers-on, and retainers 
 of a court were assembled, either from duty, or waiting 
 till his eminence should go forth. There, in their official 
 accoutrements, were stationed the familiar servitors of 
 the regent. Pages, and knights, passed and repassed, 
 with business, and anxiety, in their faces. Many, of more, 
 or less note, loitered about, in expectation of an audience ; 
 or, having been just dismissed, lingered, ere they left the 
 castle, and, grouped in separate knots, were lounging, 
 and gossipping together. Among others, two cavaliers 
 were observed conversing, on an easy, and familiar foot- 
 ing, as they leisurely crossed the vestibule. One of these 
 appeared a middle-aged, military-looking sort of per- 
 sonage, of a grave, and noble aspect. If his physiognomy 
 was not indicative of brilliant talents, or much mental de- 
 cision, it was, at least, characteristic, of a mild accommo- 
 dating nature, nor was incompatible, with the possession 
 of a considerable portion of judgment. His forehead was 
 capacious, and the general cast of his features sedate, and 
 prepossessing. This was Valentinian, Count Turascus, 
 general-in-chief of the Hungarian forces. His compa- 
 nion was younger in years, and displayed a greater degree 
 of spirit, in the lines of his countenance; but, on recol- 
 lection, we need not describe him, he being the same 
 young nobleman, who conducted the arrest of Hubert.
 
 134 • MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 <' Why, i'faith," observed Turascus, in reply to an in- 
 quiry of the baron, '' this is an unaccountable whim of the 
 sultan's herald extraordinary, — for that's the phrase, — 
 since transmitting an ambassador to any power, under the 
 cope of the universe, would imply a certain equality, too 
 glaringly derogatory to the supreme dignity of the mag- 
 nificent Soliman." 
 
 " How long, think you, will the emir persist in re- 
 maining without the walls ? " asked Bathori. 
 
 " Probably, during his tarriance amongst us," said 
 Turascus, " which, however, is of uncertain continuance. 
 You see," he continued, pointing to a magnificent en- 
 campment, established on the banks of the Olt, " where, 
 beneath yon rich pavilion, flaming with silk and gold, 
 Abu Obeida, (that's the intidel's name), at present 
 abideth. A difficulty hath arisen, it seems ; for, however 
 spacious the canvass tenements, he has had pitched for 
 him, they w^ill not contain a moiety of his peacock-train, 
 which is, alike, vast, and gaudy. 
 
 " How has his excellence acted, under such a dilem- 
 ma ? " inquired Bathori. 
 
 " Why, though, for some strange cause, Abu Obeida 
 himself, is unwilling to repose his turbaned head, beneath 
 a Christian's roof," replied Turascus, " he does not enter- 
 tain any repugnance to his attendants taking up their 
 quarters, within our city ; therefore, the regent has given 
 directions, for the waste and ruinous precincts, extending 
 from the back of the High- street, to these castle walls, to 
 be shortly cleared, and covered over with temporary 
 erections, for the accommodation of the greater part of his 
 excellency's retinue." "^ 
 
 " This very dawn," said Bathori, " my duty called me, 
 
 * Une espece de plaine, ou I'envoy de Soliman II. avoit p]ac6 son 
 camp le long d'une riviere qui porte le nom d'Alt. Mais il n'y a pas 
 assez de terrein au dehors, pour y loger une foule de Turcs, aussi com- 
 modement que dans la ville, ou bientot s'etoit campe la suite de Basha. 
 Ep. Rer. Hung.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 135 
 
 to within a stone's throw of these demesnes ; I had the 
 melancholy task of apprehending the captain of the night- 
 watch." 
 
 " Good God ! and is he a traitor ? " said Turascus. 
 "I passed that man, (Hubert he is called, is he not?) 
 for the first time, the other morning, and I know not 
 what, but something there was about him, which made a 
 deep impression on my mind ; the thought of other days 
 came over me; I could have sworn, only that the thing 
 was impossible, that sweet, and bitter memories were 
 common to us both, from having been acquainted in hap- 
 pier years, when Hungary, Transylvania, and Bohemia, 
 were under one rule, ere ill-fated Lewis, — but 'tis no use 
 lamenting the past," and Turascus turned away his head, 
 and hastily brushed off, from his eyelid, a big drop, which 
 seemed to belie his manhood. 
 
 " General," observed Bathori, after a pause, " I own 
 my surprise at your having only, for the first time, so 
 lately encountered the captain of the night-watch, in 
 Hermanstadt." 
 
 " Why, it has so happened," returned Turascus, 
 " that the routine of his duty has not, till within the last 
 few months, called him to serve with his corps, in this 
 city; and, you know^, I only returned hither last week, 
 after a prolonged absence." 
 
 Bathori was silent. 
 
 "And that man, then, is a treasonable character !" re- 
 sumed Turascus, in a musing, melancholy voice : " alas ! 
 we live in strange times, — God uphold the right ! " 
 
 ''Ay, pray heaven," said Bathori, " our noble regent 
 sit firm ! " 
 
 " I thought not of him," said Turascus, coldly. 
 
 " Prithee, general, of whom else?" inquired Bathori. 
 
 "The Lady Czerina," answered Turascus, with a deep 
 sigh, " and bondaged Erdely. It irks me, they should 
 wear shackles, and I stand by to look on't." With these 
 words, Turascus, taking the arm of his more juvenile
 
 136 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 companion, the two magnates melted from the irregular 
 assemblage, and passed, through the folding doors, into 
 the presence of Martiniizzi. 
 
 Meantime, the busy hum of voices, high in argument, 
 or whispering, in eager consultation, ceased not for an 
 instant. The chief topics of discussion turned, as usual 
 in such caseSj on the tidings of the day : — on the rapid 
 progress the reformed faith was making, throughout 
 Hungary, and Transylvania — the insidious tendency of 
 the present warlike movements of the court of Vienna — 
 the probable conduct of the Sublime Porte thereupon. 
 Then was canvassed the late miraculous evanishment of 
 Count Oldimar, one of the governors of the fortified city 
 of Coloswar, who was reported to have been visited, 
 in bodily presence, by some evil spirit, and borne away, 
 at midnight, in his clutches. 
 
 Another topic of interest was contained in the strange, 
 and weighty intelligence, which had reached Hermanstadt, 
 that morning, of the death of the ferocious freebooter, 
 and renegade, the Waivode, Peter of Moldavia, who, after 
 having, for years, braved the justice of eastern Europe,* 
 was done to death, it was said, by Iwan, one of the Wal- 
 lachian richters. This Iwan, surnamed Vilez,-f although, 
 according to all accounts, a mere youth, had contrived 
 to occupy a considerable space, in the world's eye. His 
 very name was a war-cry among his followers ; and the 
 feats of incredible strength, and bravery, which were cur- 
 rently reported of him, induced an extravagant opinion 
 
 * " Dans ces temps deplorable ou la cruaute habituelle de Turcs, les 
 rigueures reflechies des generaux de I'empire, le fanatisme de la liberty 
 le fanatisme, plus cruel encore, de la religion, sembloient s'etre reunis 
 pour accumuler sur la Hongrie toutes les calamites qui font souhaiter 
 a, I'homme sensible qu'on n'eut point ecrit I'histoire de ses semblables, 
 Pieire surpassa en cruaute les plus impitoyable partisans. — On disait de 
 lui, cet homme ne trouvera jamais un Paradis, mais il mene six enfers 
 avec lui." — Histoire des Affaires des Moldaves. 
 
 t Vilez, Hero.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 137 
 
 of his prowess. In truth, his beauty, courage, and won- 
 derful endowments were the theme of every tongue. No 
 one knew what was his lineage, or what land gave him 
 birth. He burst on the world with the dignity of a hero, 
 and started, at once, perfect, and in arms, like Sin, from the 
 head of Satan.* Unlike to other marauding Wallachian 
 chiefs, the aged, the helpless and the innocent, were 
 sacred from his attack. No poor man's cottage was ever 
 burnt to the ground, by Vilez Iwan. No worthy Hunga- 
 rian's mansion was liable to Vilez Iwan's night assault — 
 no beautiful maidens, or gallant youths were carried off, 
 to be sold to slavery, by Vilez Iwan. Nor did the Richter 
 exact any contributions, from the wretched natives, for 
 sparing their possessions, and respecting their liberties. 
 The ruthless leader of the Cyganis, and the " Bloody 
 Peter of Moldavia," found, in the redoutable Richter, their 
 mostuncompromising opponent. The whole country hailed 
 him, as another Alcides, born to cleanse the land, in those 
 bad, and broken times. Such were the occurrences, newly in- 
 dexed, by the hand of Time, or whose causes, and consum- 
 mation still lay wrapt, in his dusky folds, and they were 
 discussed, with considerable warmth, and acrimony. But 
 there existed other subjects, which, although, perhaps, 
 " more germane" to the matter, if they happened to be 
 touched upon, it was in a voice, scarcely drawn above the 
 breath ; whilst the obscurest hints, and inuendos were 
 dropped, and passed, from one to the other, respecting 
 the critical situation of Hungary — the rivalship of the 
 regents — of the hostility, in which they held each other — 
 of the resolved, and haughty inflexibility of the queen- 
 mother. And then, as the accents of the speaker died 
 away, in a most oracular whisper, the discourse turned on 
 the melancholy prospects of the youthful Czerina, and 
 sad deductions were drawn, from that lady's hereditary 
 claims, joined with her present position, and the aspiring 
 character of her guardian. The notorious ambition of 
 that personage, unrestrained by fear, or, perhaps, by prin-
 
 138 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ciple, gave too much reason to suspect him of the worst. 
 It was, indeed, manifest that a kingdom was within his 
 grasp, if the scruples of conscience, or visitings of nature, 
 withheld him not, from stretching forth his hand, to clutch 
 it. That the event was yet delayed, — that the trembling 
 balance of the house of Zapola yet hung suspended, by 
 the master-hand of destiny, was ascribed, by many, to the 
 most guarded circumspection, on the part of Martinuzzi, 
 though, perhaps, from a very few, his abstinence, and mo- 
 deration might not escape the reproach of vacillation, and 
 infirmity of purpose ; but all agreed, that the inclining 
 scale would shortly be decided, by the conjuncture of 
 affairs, in favour of his open assumption of the regal title, 
 and that the grand sequel of the lord regent's policy 
 would, at length, be made clear, as noon-day, by his taking^ 
 that decisive spring, which must secure him the supreme 
 authority, for life. But this object could hardly be at- 
 tained without the ruin of the royal house, and many 
 an unfledged sword was half bared, at the apprehension. 
 The youthful soldier, and the native and fiery nobility, 
 attached to the blood of John of Zapola, and devoted, by 
 loyalty or partizanship, to the service of the Queen-Regent, 
 Isabella, whom their intrigues, or the intrigues of their 
 fathers, had first transplanted from a foreign soil. These, 
 the members of an armed, and lawless aristocracy, it was 
 supposed, were touched, with commiseration, and felt 
 eager to vindicate the rights of loyalty, by inscribing the 
 name, and the injuries of their sovereign, on the banners 
 of rebellion. Still, even the chance of their interference 
 being of service, was a frail one ; and if, as was appre- 
 hended, the ambition of Martinuzzi aspired, beyond the 
 condition of a subject, the days of Czerina were probably 
 numbered. Thus it was agreed, that all was feeble and 
 hollow, in the internal state of Transylvania, whilst every 
 view, from without, bore the most threatening aspect. 
 
 Such were the materials of thought, and action, which 
 rumour, in the full play of her thousand tongues, bruited
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 
 
 139 
 
 throughout Hermanstadt, and such vrere the " ambiguce 
 voces,'' which she scattered abroad, in the shape of an hy- 
 pothesis, or couched, in the rounding off of some quaint 
 apothegm, no less dark, and enigmatical. But Count Ra- 
 gotzy noted little of all, that was spoken ; he found too 
 much matter, within the repositary of his own bosom, to 
 suffer him to incline a willing ear to inexplicable rumours, 
 and idle speculations ; he remained, where, as he be- 
 lieved, an intervening angle of the parapet, against which 
 his back rested, intercepted him from the view. The 
 longer he revolved his injuries, in the gloomy recesses of 
 his mind, the more his mental irritation wrought on him, 
 till, at length, his voice blasphemed on the air. The smo- 
 thered exclamations, and broken soliloquy, which follow, 
 were interspersed with expletives, which our pen refuses 
 to transcribe. — " Ha ! Peter of Moldavia murdered ! — 
 Martinuzzi, after all, refuse to admit me to his presence ! 
 — The mine undermined ! — from the pride of all my hopes 
 to be plunged into the abyss of utter desperation ! — 
 Cool, cold, dissembling, damned priest! — thou knewest 
 of Peter's death all the while ! — nay, most likely, his as- 
 sassin was thy agent ! Now, by the dames of hell that 
 wait upon him ! I have a mind to mate that man, in his 
 hour of pride. He is a legion of devils to me — shall I 
 hie me to him at once ? — and, — 1 could do that — I 
 
 could ; I have that blazing here, which no ; being 
 
 alone, defenceless, and a Cygani, 'twere sheer madness. 
 He, doubtless, thinks me in his toiles, and his means are 
 such — and such his stretch of authority, that I must not 
 resort to so desperate a measure, while one other expe- 
 dient be left me. At the first word, I spoke, he w^ould 
 order me to be gagged, or himself pierce me on the spot, 
 though that spot were God's altar, he would not hesitate. 
 Oh ! his threats, and actions go together — I know that man 
 well, and what he has at stake ; so I'll take a safer step, 
 and surer — no, I'll wait — I'll not confess, save only at the 
 last extremity. I'll speak to Hubert first, 'tis not too late ;
 
 140 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 come what will — come the worst that may betide ; the 
 possession of these papers, and the contents of that case, 
 are for a rock of dependence, against the tempest. Ha ! 
 after all, the lion, turned to bay, may prove no contempti- 
 ble opponent! — Let the dog spring at his peril ! — Look 
 to it, subtle inquisitor — I'll not be hunted down ! — and 
 now for Hubert." 
 
 Count Ragotzy, having thus arrayed his bad passions 
 in their darkest garb, shifted his ground. In doing so, 
 his eye caught a glimpse of the figure of a man, at some 
 little distance, whom, he had been too much under the 
 dominion of an uncontrollable fury, previously to ob- 
 serve. The form, besides, had been partly shrouded 
 from observation, until that moment, by a projection of 
 the building, beyond which the Cygani chief was posted. 
 He, we speak of, was wrapped in the szurod territs'd, or 
 peasant's cloak, and stood, or rather reclined his back, 
 against the wall, while eying the soliloquist, with no 
 little earnestness. That person naturally started at the 
 thought, that he might have been overheard, and, laying 
 his hand upon his dagger, vainly endeavoured to recal to 
 mind the precise words of his monologue, so as to deter- 
 mine, whether he had not betrayed himself. On this 
 head, he remained at a loss, but the self-possession and 
 intrepidity, annexed to his character, did not desert him. 
 In any point of view, he thought his most advisable 
 course would be to pass the stranger, without taking any 
 notice of him. He, therefore, walked forward; but, ere 
 he reached the folding-portal, the other was at his elbow. 
 In a deep, abrupt, but silver-toned voice, the stranger 
 spoke : " My Lord !" The count stopped short, as the 
 man, with still more emphatic intonation, reiterated, 
 '' Lord Ragotzy." The Cygani suddenly fronted the 
 man, and endeavoured to read his purpose, in his counte- 
 nance. His sallow complexion, the uneasy working of 
 his nether lip, and the inconstant, yet, at times, pierc- 
 ing expression of the eye, formed a portent, by no means
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 141 
 
 prepossessing, and, combined, with his other characteris- 
 tics, to warn the count to put himself upon his guard. 
 He appeared to be of middle age, and was slenderly 
 made ; but, however diminutive in stature, his limbs 
 were symmetrically moulded. 
 
 The brigand weuld again have pursued his way. These 
 startling words arrested his step — " Is Lord Ragotzy be- 
 reaved of his senses, that, at noon-day, he utters aloud his 
 malisons, in the strong hold of him, he deems, and pro- 
 claims his enemy ?" 
 
 " What say you, sir ?" returned the count, in surprise 
 at the tone, and tenor of the other's address. 
 
 " Methinks my words need no translation," said the 
 man, in a low mysterious tone. " Other palace walls, 
 than those of Dionysius, have been reputed to have hear- 
 ing, and these walls! w^hich, on all sides, describe the 
 iron circle of despotism — why, Lord Ragotzy, there's 
 not a coigne of vantage but hath its tell-tale funnel ; 
 there's not a buttress, behind which lurks not an eve's- 
 dropper, and every parapet owns many a spiracle, by 
 which the voice of disaffection finds its way, to the ears 
 of tyranny. What think you. Count Ragotzy, when I, 
 who am planted on this spot, with orders to watch, and 
 report your movements, — I tell you, to your face, you are 
 in danger." This was delivered, in a voice, which it was 
 impossible could escape notice. 
 
 The count was staggered — " In danger I" he repeated, 
 " from whom ? — of what ?" 
 
 The stranger raised his arm, and pointed significantly, 
 towards the door of the ante-room. 
 
 " What is it, sir, that you would have me understand 
 from this — I comprehend you not — speak out, or let 
 me proceed — you are silent — stand by." With these 
 words, as if suddenly resolved not to be trifled with any 
 longer, he moved forward. 
 
 The unknown retired, slowly, in his front. " Beware 
 of those men, who await your coming, at the doors, lead-
 
 142 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ing to the hall of state," he said, in a sort of cautionary 
 whisper. 
 
 " Await my coming!" echoed the count, again paus- 
 ing — " explain yourself." 
 
 " My lord," answered the other, with an astute smile, 
 but still in the same low key, " I have said enough, if 
 you please to understand me — if not, perchance too 
 much." 
 
 The brow of Count Ragotzy darkened : again he fixed 
 his eye keenly on the fronti nulla fides of the speaker, 
 where a self-asserting reserve of irony seemed to indicate 
 a character, obscure, and problematical, at the best, and 
 which, the more the bandit studied, the more he felt at 
 a loss to decipher. A new suspicion, all at once, darted 
 within him. " Ha ! I see," cried he, while his face 
 gloomed, on the stranger, like a thunder-cloud — " thou 
 dost this only, to play upon my fears; whether prompted, 
 by avidity of gain, or governed, by a sportful wanton 
 humour, matters not, — I warn you, however, once 
 more, not to push my patience too far — I am not the 
 sort of man, 1 suspect you deem me, nor in a frame of 
 mind, to brook your practices ; so make way !" The 
 stranger offered no reply, but seemed still disposed, by 
 planting himself full in the count's path, to oppose his 
 further progress. Ragotzy, whose irritability of tem- 
 perament was at no time very amenable to control, felt 
 nettled, at the fellow's pertinacity, and, after vainly again 
 attempting to rid himself of his attendance, turned upon 
 him, with a flushed brow, and an eye of fire. " Villain ! 
 stand on one side," he exclaimed. 
 
 The other, nevertheless, persisted in his endeavours, to- 
 impede his steps, saying, at the same time, with that pro- 
 voking nonchalance, which predominated, in his whole 
 demeanour, " Would you speak with that man, you call 
 Hubert, methinks, you go the right way about it." 
 
 These few words effectually attained their purpose. 
 Count Ragotzy turned abruptly round, and, fronting his
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 143 
 
 officious interlocutor, said, whilst he searched, with steady, 
 and piercing glance, the uncertain map of his counte- 
 nance, '^ So, it seems, there is more in this, than mere 
 impertinence ; come, I ivill sift this matter. Rascal, 
 you've crossed a man, who, tottering on the verge of the 
 black desert, that. lies beyond the grave, recks nought — 
 nought, human, or divine — so mark me, sirrah, this cold 
 iron, which I now lay bare, shall be presently crimsoned 
 v,'ith thy heart's blood, unless you declare, why you beset 
 my path." 
 
 The man shrunk back, for a moment, and then, in the 
 most imperturbable manner, shrugged his shoulders, as, 
 with an apparently assured voice, he replied, " I am here 
 to do you service ; but I shall make known just so much 
 of my purpose, as seems to me meet, and not a syllable 
 beyond, only ;" he added, drawing nearer, and lowering 
 his voice, almost to a whisper, "• prithee put up your 
 dagger, lest it attract the eyes of yon idlers. If you will, 
 let us confer apart — this way. Lord Ragotzy." 
 
 The speaker forthwith directed his footsteps to the 
 further end of the gallery, where he halted. His 
 effrontery failed not to produce its effect upon Ragotzy, 
 who, after musing for an instant, returned his weapon 
 to its sheath, and then stalked after his strange ad- 
 monisher. Having come within a few paces of where the 
 man stood, the count, at once, renewed the conversation. 
 " Whoever thou art," he said, " and by whatever mo- 
 tives actuated, thou canst, it is clear, discover, what it 
 behoves me to hear ; so first tell me concerning Hubert ?" 
 
 ** One answer will suffice," replied the man ; then, 
 suddenly d^eepening his tone, and coming closer to the 
 bandit — "Lord Ragotzy," he subjoined, "you are 
 watched by men, armed, and appointed for the purpose, 
 who have directions to detain you by force, if you ad- 
 vance a step, beyond those inner doors, towards the re- 
 gent's presence-chamber. In that case, you will pro-
 
 144 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 bably be plunged, into one of those pleasant domiciles, 
 where, even now, your confederate lies imprisoned." 
 
 " My confederate !" echoed the count, in alarm ; — 
 *' How! Hubert? it must be — it is Hubert! Speak 
 out ! whom mean you?" And then, with an impulse of 
 the breath, which he could hardly be said to vocalize, 
 his articulation, if such indeed it were, more resembling 
 the gasp of the screech-owl, than any known sound of 
 human utterance, he repeated, " whom?" 
 
 His looks, as he paused for a reply, grew black and 
 portentous, as a thunder-cloud. The other recoiled a 
 pace, before his flushed countenance, and swelling figure; 
 and it was only, after a minute's space, that he made 
 answer, in a low voice, " Him, you named — Hubert." 
 
 Count Ragotzy uttered a single groan, that scared 
 forth the nestled raven from her " procreant cradle," 
 who, mistaking the sound, that thrilled through the air, 
 for the signal of her mate, croaked back her hoarse 
 response ; then, flapping her enormous plumes against 
 the wind, the bird drooped from her sphere, traced a wild, 
 and magic circle, right over their heads, and again darted 
 upwards, into the heavens. Some minutes elapsed, ere 
 another word was spoken, either by the count or his 
 companion. The former, at length, stamping upon the 
 ground with vehemence, as the foam flew from his lips, 
 exclaimed, " Oh, that this priest, and I were now, on a 
 rough sea, with but a plank of a split ship betwixt us, and 
 perdition ! — may these two arms shrivel up, if they did 
 not plunge him down to the world of waters ! Isten !" * 
 he proceeded, whilst, with outstretched hands, he grasped 
 at the impassive air, on which his straining eyes were 
 bent, as if the element were something palpable — 
 '' Isten ! or rather let me invoke — if such immortal na- 
 tures be — Mano If only grant, I may, one day, clutch this 
 
 * Isten, i. e. God. 
 t Mano — Devil.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 145 
 
 subtle-winged serpent by the throat, and strangle him by 
 inches, till he chokes his last !" 
 
 The fury of Ragotzy was terrible ; yet the other looked 
 on, with a hard, and scoffing smile. " Excuse me, my 
 lord," he observed, in a somewhat expostulatory tone ; 
 ^' but this is idle, — wouldstthou have atonement ?" 
 
 "To be sure I would, and will," replied Ragotzy, 
 with the accent, and attitude of an exterminating spirit — 
 "Yet no," he presently added, "not atonement, but 
 more, sir, I '11 have vengeance ! — Ay, though that packet, 
 and my golden prize be lost to me, — which I do not be- 
 lieve, — for ever, I'll find modes of vengeance !" 
 
 " Why so you may be avenged, in fitting time," re- 
 plied the other ; " but now, you stand at disadvantage ; — 
 spies are about, and you speak loud in wrath." 
 
 " Spies I — though the air were bribed to serve the 
 tyrant, I 'd speak the thoughts that bustle for a vent ; 
 ay, if I burst, out they should go." 
 
 " Beshrew thy intemperance, my lord — list to a tale : 
 After you and Father Dominick, as the style goeth, parted 
 company last night, each imagined that the other had 
 retired to rest ; yet both went about their proper busi- 
 ness. The monk, as ever, succeeded, in what he under- 
 took, but thou wert foiled, Lord Ragotzy, as thou 
 deservedst." 
 
 The Cygani would have gazed at the speaker, but, in 
 his turn, met a look, whose unwinking fascination, like a 
 spell, seemed to penetrate his very soul. Wincing under 
 that fixed, and caustic survey, he lowered his eyes. 
 
 " Father Dominick's object," continued the stranger, 
 " was, as you guess, the causing Hubert to be appre- 
 hended. And your's, — " 
 
 " Hold there!" interrupted the count, in a subdued 
 voice; "wert thou cognizant of what thy speech infer- 
 reth, thou art not mortal. But one, who breathes the 
 vital air, might guess at it; nor he, only that, years ago, 
 I " he ceased abruptly. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 " You would have enacted a similar tragedy, my 
 lord," broke in the other, in the same bold, and superior 
 tone, he had adopted from the first; " you meant, last 
 night, to do a deed, whose very imagination is chronicled 
 in hell, branding your soul with such ransomless perfidy, 
 as not all the fires of purgatory, through countless ages, 
 might regenerate. A deed, Lord Ragotzy, and that, in 
 the holy and amazed light of dawn, which midnight hath 
 no pall, so heavy as to hide, — it is so wicked. Think 
 you, the after-baptism, of burning lava, that priests prate 
 of, was ordained for such motiveless malevolence as 
 yours? Trust me, otherwise, my lord: trust me, otherwise'." 
 It would be hard to say, whether surprise, or resentment, 
 held most sway, in the bosom of Ragotzy, at that moment. 
 He felt the hot blood start rapidly through his veins. 
 Thrice, he involuntarily laid his hand, on the hilt of his 
 sword, and as often left the weapon in the scabbard, un- 
 drawn. In the end, however, his amazement, mixed, 
 possibly, with some undefined, and unwonted emotions of 
 shame, mastered his rising anger; and, curbing his na- 
 tural temper, as well as he could, he addressed the other, 
 though, evidently, in a constrained tone. 
 
 *' Well, then, you are acquainted with circumstances," 
 he said, ''which, I had supposed, only hell and myself 
 were cognizant of. How you came by your knowledge, 
 you best can tell. I look at you with all the powers of 
 vision I possess. You appear to be mortal man. It is 
 inexplicable to me, yet so it is; but tell me — do you, — " 
 he ceased abruptly, as if gasping for breath, and looked 
 at the other, with wistful earnestness, for above a minute, 
 without again opening his mouth. His tones, and gesture 
 implied the most mysterious, and awful apprehension of 
 the" sense of what, he was about to ask, whilst, speaking 
 articularly between his teeth, and under his breath, yet 
 with solemn energy, he demanded, " Do you know 
 more ?" 
 
 '* That question I must be excused answering," replied
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 1 47 
 
 the stranger, with a glance, into which was thrown no 
 small portion of sarcastic expression: — "Thus much, 
 however," and the lips of the man curled, with a bitter 
 smile, ** I would whisper to thy conscience. Thou hast 
 served thy apprenticeship to the Cygani, Unna, and art 
 thyself, I wis, the deader of her Pharaoh nepec,* and 
 their trade is blood." Ragotzy shrunk back, in excess of 
 amazement. '' But," presently resumed the other, " let 
 us consult for your present safety. Say, you see Hubert, 
 and arm him with fortitude, to endure the evils of the 
 time." 
 
 Ragotzy pondered for a moment, ere he replied; — 
 " Who thou art, I know not ; what interest thou canst 
 have in my affairs, I cannot tell; nor by what sorcery, 
 thou hast gathered thy intelligence, have I a conception: 
 but this I know, out of thine own mouth thou betrayest 
 thyself. How should I speak with Hubert, when, as 
 you said but now, he is in durance?" 
 
 " It might not be impossible, I ween," returned the 
 other, " to bid the bolts of his dungeon shoot back. And 
 though but one man in Hermanstadt, save him you wot 
 of, could bring an interview to bear, I can name that 
 man." 
 
 '* By'r, lady!" exclaimed the count, "is it credible, 
 that corruption can unbar the gates of the state-prison 
 of Hermanstadt? who is he of whom you speak?" 
 
 " Viscount Rodna, the lunatic," replied the stranger, 
 coolly; *' the ward of Martinuzzi." 
 
 Ragotzy was mute with astonishment, for a moment ; 
 when, fastening his dark eyes upon the imperturbable 
 face of the speaker, he began to fancy, the features were 
 not wholly strange to him. " And, in the Mano's name! 
 who art thou?" he breathlessly demanded. 
 
 " I, my lord!" drily answered the man, with a smile, 
 that resembled a sneer; "I am Luke Swartz, Count 
 
 * Pharaoh's people, the Hungarian appellation of gipsies. 
 H 2
 
 148 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Rodna's keeper, at your service." The sudden rush of 
 thought, attendant on his instant recognition of the in- 
 dividual before him, palsied the beatings of Count Ra- 
 gotzy's heart. He felt angry at his previous dulness. 
 The manner of Swartz, from the very first, had haunted 
 him with vague reminiscences, for which, since the mo- 
 tives, which governed the fellow, were as impenetrable, as 
 those of some visor'd mute, he could not assign any 
 precise cause; but now, the impression was accounted 
 for, by the peculiar associations, connected with this 
 person. The keeper seem.ed to apprehend the conflicting 
 thoughts he had, in a manner, raised in the head of Ra- 
 gotzy, and his lip slightly curled, with the anguis in 
 herbd of his characteristic sneer. 
 
 " Well," said the satirist,* if we may be allowed so to 
 accommodate his phrase, " 'Tis hard not to indulge in 
 quizzing." If Count Ragotzy caught the momentary 
 expression, which pursed up his companion's countenance, 
 he did not deign to notice it. He traversed the gallery, with 
 hasty and irregular steps, backwards and forwards ; then 
 turning shortly round, he dem.anded where he was likely 
 to meet with the young count? 
 
 *' Your movements are beset," began the keeper, after 
 a pause. 
 
 " Laissez faire a Don Antoine," interrupted Ra- 
 gotzy, touching with his finger the hilt of his sword. 
 "This passport, sir, hath borne me through worse dangers 
 than now environ me. I knew this citadel, when but an 
 urchin, and all its windings and turnings are as familiar 
 to my recollection, as is the tortuous policy of its lord." 
 
 " Where doth Count Rodna lodge ?" 
 
 " Of what passes, between you and that youth, I will be 
 the medium," replied Swartz gravely. 
 
 Deeply annoyed was Ragotzy, at finding himself so 
 absolutely dependent upon the good oflftces of one, whom 
 
 * Juvenal.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 149 
 
 he considered so much his inferior, and in whose regard, 
 he began to entertain a sentiment of aversion, whilst 
 there involuntarily mingled with his antipathy, something, 
 that resembled anxiety ; it was impossible, it could be 
 fear ; but there was no help for it ; so, endeavouring to 
 hide his vexation, he said, in an indifferent tone, "I cannot 
 conjecture, what purpose thou hast to serve, that thou 
 forcest thyself, on the dangerous councils of a man, like 
 me." 
 
 Swartz, fixing an eye of earnest regard upon the chief- 
 tain, replied, " I should suppose as much. — Well, please 
 to hear my explanation, my lord" — he stopped, and after a 
 minute's inward cogitation, thus, with solemn countenance, 
 and deep, impressive voice, resumed — " A valued friend 
 of mine — that is, I would say," he added, quickly cor- 
 recting himself, 'Miis near relation — I speak of time past 
 — was cruelly and scandalously wronged by that indivi- 
 dual, upon whose head, I overheard you imprecate re- 
 venge. The king dying — I mean, my lord, the friend I 
 mentioned, hath measured, in his secret soul, the provoca- 
 tion and the penalty. He, and I, — yes, T, — oh, how I 
 loved once ! and with no adulterate fondness ; but my 
 broken sighs were spent on air, and that man eclipsed me 
 in the affections of the lady of my homage." The keeper 
 turned his head on one side, as if to hide his counte- 
 nance. 
 
 " Thou love I" muttered Ragotzy ; "one would ima- 
 gine thy heart to have been all brains." 
 
 *' Is't not enough?" continued the speaker, with startling 
 emphasis; "then, hear further — The child of a noble, 
 though decayed family — a fair and blue-eyed girl, born 
 a Hungarian, was my sister. One only, very fair, as I 
 said, and young, and warm, and oh ! her hair was like 
 the sunbeams, and her voice, voluptuous, was so very 
 sweet, 'twas painful. She came to know him, and, 'twas 
 rumoured, he was too familiar." — Here, for an instant, 
 the sallow face of the speaker assumed a lustre, as if
 
 150 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 tlie blood, that flowed in his veins had been fire, and had 
 rushed, from his whole body, to illuminate his features. 
 Count Ragotzy gazed astonished. 
 
 "I cannot talk of this," he went on; "the rumour 
 was a lie. Within her patient heart she locked his image, 
 and the restless guest wore out its tenement — that's all! 
 He, my lord, allured her into the darksome void of the 
 tomb, and smiled the while. — Enough; she died of love — 
 of the blight of singleness. She died of love, unrequited, 
 unsatisfied, and, as yet, unavenged. But now, he's rank 
 i' the wind, my lord — that priest; and vengeance — sure, as 
 the slow hound of fate, or the famed Spartan dog, of scent 
 sagacious,* shall dodge the traitor to his doom, let him 
 double and turn, however he will." There was a minute's 
 pause. 
 
 " And you hope to find an active coadjutor in me, hey, 
 sir?" observed the Cygani, with atone of scorn. 
 
 " Truly, my lord," replied Swartz, " we are glad to 
 press into our service any collateral aid, that presents it- 
 self, and your courses, and ours seem to hold together, — 
 at least for awhile. One partizan we have, by the way — 
 a Wallachian — now in this city — ay, living within a stone's 
 throw of these ramparts, whose resurrection, after having 
 long been supposed dead, would startle and make pale, I 
 ween, the good citizens of Hermanstadt. But yourself, 
 my lord, are meant to do most active, and important 
 service. It was with the view of turning your animosity 
 to our purposes, — of enlisting it, in revenge of my friend's 
 and my own injuries, that I broke upon you, with that 
 admonitory address, which preluded our present confer- 
 ence. Be sure, lord Ragotzy, had you proceeded into 
 the hall of audience, as you were about to do, when I in- 
 terfered, your arrest would have been inevitable, and 
 now-a-days, the prisons of Hermanstadt, I need not tell 
 you, are much the same, as her charnel houses." There 
 
 * Kvvbg AttKaivrjg iig Tig eiipivog (3dcng, — Sophocles ,Ajax.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 151 
 
 was silence for several minutes. The countenances of 
 both, from different causes, darkened. Count Ragotzy 
 naturally felt a degree of pleasure, at finding, he had 
 so able an auxiliary at hand, at a time, too, when he 
 so greatly stood in need of his agency. In yielding, how- 
 ever, to his first impulse of satisfaction, he deemed 
 it unwise, entirely to surrender himself to it. At all 
 events, he resolved, ere he embarked in dangerous, and 
 concealed intrigues, to proceed with circumspection, and 
 look well, lest that mysterious tale of enmity, he hardly 
 understood, should prove a mere fiction, to answer some 
 sinister purpose of the relator. 
 
 With this end in view, in rejoinder to the other's nar- 
 ration, the count, after awhile, observed, " That, which 
 you have told me, may be veritable, but you cannot ex- 
 pect me to credit so strange a coincidence of policy, as 
 would seem to exist between us, upon your unsupported 
 testimony. Who, and what is this friend, whose cause 
 you seem so warmly to have espoused ?" 
 
 " On that head, I am pledged to secresy," answered 
 the man ; " but I fable not ; and, as security for the truth 
 of my averment, without which, our compact were bound 
 by a cable of sand, I am authorized to offer you such 
 hostage, as will be irresistible." 
 
 "What hostage speak you of?" said the count, into 
 whose features every additional syllable, spoken by the 
 keeper, seemed to conjure new wonder. 
 
 " Even the person of my wretched charge," answered 
 Swartz. " I will deposit him in your hands : you can 
 immure him — (the man hesitated for a few seconds, and 
 then continued carelessly) — where you will, so that he be 
 kept out of the way. Sigismund is held by Martinuzzi 
 in no ordinary regard ; he takes a deeper interest in the 
 fate of his poor protege, than is supposed ; and it would 
 be as much, as my life is worth, were I to be met in the 
 streets of Hermanstadt, after the intelligence shall reach 
 the cardinal, of the unhappy creature's disappearance.
 
 152 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Fancy not, I would so commit myself, unless, with all my 
 nerves, I were prepared to further your purposes, till time 
 waken truth." 
 
 " It may be so," said Ragotzy ; ^' but I do not under- 
 stand, where is the mighty gain of keeping custody over a 
 madman." 
 
 " If YOU do not. Count Ragotzy, ask your mother," 
 replied Swartz, with a mysterious air. ''Bid her rate the 
 value of my pledge, and act accordingly." 
 
 After a minute's deep rumination, the count said, but 
 as if speaking to himself, rather than addressing his 
 companion, " I must, at all events, have free discourse 
 of Hubert, and hear his report of where he has hidden 
 those treasures. In every way, I am unfortunate, and 
 this untimely murder of the waivode has disconcerted my 
 best-devised projects." 
 
 " Ha ! that last was an ugly accident for the politics 
 of the House of Polgar," interposed Swartz, fixing one of 
 his peculiar, and sinister smiles, on the features of Ragotzy. 
 
 The count's eye caught that most fiend-like scrutiny, 
 and, if he shrank at the allusion to his family name, from 
 a perfect stranger, he was even still more revolted, by the 
 man's accompanying smile. He kept, however, a digni- 
 fied silence, and Swartz resumed. 
 
 " The bloody Peter little apprehended what arm he 
 had to encounter, when he dared cross the mighty Iwan." 
 
 " That name," cried Ragotzy, " runs through me like 
 a fever : but, sir, what mean you ? The public rumour 
 goes, he, Iwan, murdered Peter." 
 
 "Ay, in single combat," returned Swartz. 
 
 "Have you heard how the encounter came about ?" 
 inquired Ragotzy, somewhat nettled ; " since, methinks, 
 thou art privy to the whole world's doings." 
 
 " Why, I know a thing or two, I believe," answered 
 Swartz ; " and, only, that I think you would not care to 
 have me describe the particulars, I could inform you, how 
 the Moldavian came by his death."
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 153 
 
 *' You mistake; I would willingly learn," said Ra- 
 gotzy. 
 
 " As you will, count," responded Swartz ; and his 
 keen eye seemed to reach the seat of those thoughts, 
 which the other would gladly have hidden. 
 
 " You may rementber," he presently began, " you 
 left your trusty, and most meet ally, with his ancient 
 Romans, encamped on the plain of Thomash. There 
 they were directed to w^ait your orders, and hold them- 
 selves in readiness to march, at an hour's notice." 
 
 *• And so they were," exclaimed Ragotzy, involun- 
 tarily. 
 
 *' Ha! you see all vaticination is not monopolized, as 
 you Egyptians pretend, by your precious race," cried 
 Swartz, in a sneering tone. " Well," he continued, in a 
 quiet, regulated voice, " on the uprising of the day after 
 your departure from the camp, tidings were brought, that 
 the Richter Iwan had taken up his position, on a neigh- 
 bouring height. Peter, at first, arose in a fury, and went 
 without his tent, to view the forces of the audacious in- 
 truder. He saw, he outnumbered the Richter, ten to one. 
 So Peter forthwith waxed valiant, and sent a herald to 
 demand, what the Richter meant, by encamping in his 
 neighbourhood. Iwan returned some scornful, and eva- 
 sive answer or other, v/hereupon Peter grew even more 
 enraged, and directed the lines of the Richter to be 
 assaulted, with all the strength, he could muster. Thrice 
 that day did he expose himself to imminent peril, in per- 
 sonal conflicts, with the gallant band of Iwan, leading to 
 the attack the choicest followers of his standard, each 
 time to be repulsed, with considerable loss. You may 
 have heard of the beautiful gipsy, who had lately be- 
 come the property of this dreadful man ?" 
 
 " I have seen the Kurva^'' said Ragotzy, in a low, dry 
 tone, and turning away his head. 
 
 " On the following day," proceeded the keeper, "Peter 
 escorted her, for greater security, to the town of Kilien-
 
 154 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 fala, which, as you are aware, is situate, some league and 
 a half, north of the Waivode's station. During Peter's 
 absence, the opportunity was laid hold of to introduce 
 spies, and emissaries into his camp, and before the Wai- 
 vode's return, more than a fourth of his followers had 
 gone over to the Wallachian Richter. You may imagine 
 the transports of rage, into which this intelligence threw 
 the Waivode. To guard against further defection, he 
 denounced death, by the extremest torture, to any of his 
 men, who should be caught exchanging a word, with the 
 adverse outposts. Despite, however, of all Peter could 
 do to prevent it, day after day, successive numbers con- 
 trived to desert to the opposite ranks, till those of the 
 Waivode were thinned to nearly half their original comple- 
 ment. Things were in this state, when, early one morning, 
 Peter happened to be journeying, on horseback, over 
 the wild tract of wood, that stretches beyond Kilienfala, 
 where, according to custom, he had been keeping vigils, 
 with his fair companion. He was unattended, and had, 
 already, measured the greater extent of the forest, when 
 his ears caught the sound of hurrying horses' feet, in the 
 direction he had just traversed. Misdoubtful, whether 
 the approaching tramp might betoken the pursuit of 
 friends, or foes, he spurred on, at full speed, when, in 
 the act of turning an angle of the beaten chaussee, he was 
 set upon, by a party of horsemen, who, starting from an 
 adjoining coppice, had evidently been lying in wait, 
 against his arrival. You know the daring courage, and 
 intrepidity of the man, and his first intention seems to 
 have been, to cut his way through the opposing force, 
 and trust, for the rest, to the fleetness of his horse. He 
 failed, however, owing, probably, to the animal's being 
 somewhat spent with travel, in executing his pur- 
 pose ; and so, drawing in rein, he put himself on his de- 
 fence. 
 
 •' ' Yield thee, bloody traitor, in the regent's name ! ' 
 cried the foremost of the company.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 
 
 15.5 
 
 *' 'Thou must away with us, to Hermanstadt, to an- 
 swer, at length, for thy reaching crimes, thou ruthless 
 renegade ! ' exclaimed another. 
 
 " * Ha ! Jean Balassi, Thomas Nadastis, what mean 
 ye by this outrage ? ' returned Peter, in a conciliatory 
 tone. 
 
 " ' If vou know us, how dare you open your mouth, 
 unheard of monster!' rejoined Nadastis, passionately: 
 * did you not conspire, with the governor of Nicopolis, 
 the infidel Achametes, treacherously, and inhumanly to 
 betray my brother,- the patriot Maylat, into the power 
 of Solyman, — what time he, and this noble gentleman, 
 his friend, with their unconquerable band of brothers, 
 retired to the neighbouring city of Fagaras, from without 
 whose impregnable walls, not your 30,000 horsemen, 
 nor the whole force of Achametes, could have dislodged 
 him ? Did you not, infernal villain ! invite my unfor- 
 tunate brother, to a solemn banquet, and then, inhos- 
 pitably, and impiously, goad him by taunts, which, you 
 knew, his choleric spirit would never brook, to rashly lay 
 his hand upon his sword, and so, furnish a plea for your 
 detention of your guest ? Does he not linger, in conse- 
 quence, at this moment, in hopeless exile, near the Eux- 
 ine ? When Maylat was made captive, Freedom herself 
 might have despaired ; and, for that piece of treachery, 
 and the blood of young babes, and the sacking of cities, 
 and thy long course of tyrannous rebellion, thou shalt 
 shortly answer, by the blessing of God, before the tri- 
 bunal of Martinuzzi.' 
 
 *' ' Maylat only suffered retribution, due for his exe- 
 cution of Aloysius Grittus/ replied Peter, * and thou, 
 Balassi, after our terms of friendship, for thee to — ' 
 
 *' ' No more,' interrupted Balassi, ' deliver up thy 
 sword, — if he does not surrender, instantly, seize, and 
 cut the monster down.' 
 
 * Nadastis married the sister of Stephen Maylat.
 
 156 MANUSCRIPTS OF EllDELY. 
 
 " ' Yield thee, in the name of the regent ! ' shouted 
 the whole company, as they closed upon Peter. 
 
 " The Moldavian waivode backed his war-horse, and, 
 at that insant, the equestrians, the sound of whose horses' 
 hoofs, he had before heard, in the distance, came up at 
 a gallop. They were two, simply clad, in that sort of 
 half-military garb, which the disturbed state of the dis- 
 trict warranted. The younger, loosing the bridle of his 
 steed, dashed the rowels into his sides, and drew up, on 
 the spot, where, flushed and panting, Peter stood at 
 bay ; and, while the horseman's bright eye flashed, in 
 emulation of his streaming sword, he shouted, in a voice, 
 that rang through the air, like a trumpet, ' The regent's 
 name ! In the sacred names of country, and of freedom, 
 defiance to your regent! His outstretched, tyrant arm, 
 is far too short to reach us here ; nor shall he make this 
 gentleman another of the victims of his insatiate am- 
 bition.' 
 
 "The astonished assailants were staggered, for an 
 instant, by the suddenness of the onset ; but quickly, 
 and sternly recovering, they rushed forward, at the com- 
 mand of Balassi, to slay, or make captive, all three 
 traitors. The inequality of numbers would seem to have 
 augured only one issue, and that a speedy one. But 
 the party of Balassi closed on no ordinary adversaries ; 
 and it was soon seen, what the terrible energy of brave 
 men could effect, against fearful odds. 
 
 " You are acquainted with the prodigious strength of 
 the gigantic Peter, and can bear witness to his warlike 
 prowess ; but, to conceive the velocity of his young as- 
 sistant's movements, and the nice, and desperate rapid- 
 ity of his strokes, you must have been present." 
 
 " Without interrupting you," said Ragotzy, who 
 seemed very attentive, " I would inquire, whether you 
 yourself were in the fray, that you describe so well ? " 
 
 " [ was so," quietly replied Swartz ; " but you shall
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 157 
 
 hear. Nothing, I assure you," he proceeded, " could 
 withstand, for an instant, that astonishing scymetar. 
 Two of his opponents were dashed from their seats to 
 the earth. The rest soon gave ground, and, ultimately, 
 took to flight. In vain Nadastis exhorted ; in vain 
 Balassi, by voice and gesture, would have rallied them, 
 to resume the contest. The panic was fairly sped ; the 
 fugitives gave their steeds the rein, leaving two of their 
 party dead, on the field of battle. 
 
 " ' Gallant sir,' cried Peter, when he had recovered 
 breath, ' to whose resistless arm am I indebted, for so 
 great a service ? ' 
 
 " ' When I can say, I am worthy of the name, I may 
 some time have to uphold, and am certified what that 
 name demands of me, I will acknowledge myself; till 
 when, excuse me, gracious sir,' replied the young de- 
 liverer : * but may I inquire,' he presently subjoined, 
 ' to whom I have the honour of addressing myself?' 
 
 *' ' I am the Waivode of Moldavia, and a prince of 
 Wallachia,' replied Peter, in so arrogant a tone, as if 
 he would have struck his hearers into the earth, by the 
 announcement of his formidable titles* 
 
 " 'Thou the waivode!' cried the other, with undis- 
 sembled consternation. 
 
 " ' I am that prince,' was the rejoinder. 
 
 " ' Gracious heavens !' exclaimed the intrepid youth — 
 ' and do I at last behold, with my own eyes, Peter the 
 Bloody ? — Peter the murderer ? — Peter the abhorred 
 of all Hungary ? Art thou that creature, and yet no 
 leprosy upon thee V 
 
 " ' What audacious boy is this V cried the waivode — 
 ' devil's luck ! art foregone in mind ? Now, bloody as 
 I'm given out, I were loath to raise my arm against my 
 preserver, those words were, else, thy last. Thou art one 
 of the lacqueys of the Richter, I reckon, hey, lad ? and 
 art taught to expect preferment, by abusing thy lord's 
 betters ? Come, wear my colours, and quit that milk-
 
 158 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 livered chieftain. Thou hast given me good reason to 
 know, thou art well worth thy appointment, and I happen 
 to have a service to put thee on, will need mettle such 
 as thine.' 
 
 " 'The Richter Iwan acknowledges no lord living for 
 his betters,' said the companion of the youth, who had 
 not before spoken. 
 
 " 'Then ye are his soldiers — I guessed as much; I 
 owe your lord a long score, and for nothing more cer- 
 tainly, than his present daily attempts to corrupt my 
 warriors. Vengeance is sometimes tardy, but I wait my 
 time. It is my boast, sir, that no man ever yet injured 
 me, who was long lived.' 
 
 " 'If you consider the Richter in that predicament,' 
 observed the same speaker, ' your boast, in his regard, 
 may turn out but a braggart's trust.' 
 
 " ' Does he wear charms V said Peter, scornfully ; • — 
 ' you may tell your lord to have a care, I shall find him 
 when he least counts on it — if on the battle-field, well ; 
 but if not, he may drop some hour to sleep on his pillow, 
 and wake .... I have myself witnessed more than one 
 such surprising decease.' 
 
 " ' And been a main instrument of that effect, or thou 
 art universally belied,' observed his rescuer. 
 
 " 'Young sir,' returned Peter, 'what I do, I dare 
 vindicate — I never deny my deeds ; but here our paths 
 separate — my videttes are within hail. Bear arms with 
 me, and let us on together, or for your own sakes, part 
 company.' There was a pause, but the two seemed un- 
 willing to depart. 
 
 " ' Prince,' said the younger, at length, ' you were 
 right in supposing us to be Iwan's men, but it does not 
 follow, we may not tire of his command, as, it is reported, 
 your troops do of yours. Say, we take service with you, 
 will you furnish us with a speedy occasion, to requite the 
 Richter for certain slights, he has lately cast on both 
 of us?'
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 159 
 
 (( I 
 
 Beyond my hopes !' exclaimed Peter — ' as ye 
 will, gallant gentlemen, but I may not have ray purpose 
 forestalled ; —the Richter I wan shall fall, by this arm 
 alone. Bring us where our swords may arbitrate our 
 quarrel ; only accomplish that, and you may redeem the 
 obligation, at the price of a moiety of my revenues. I 
 swear to ye — I, who have seen more than fifty blos- 
 soming summers — that my soul ne'er panted for any 
 joy, and any advantage of conquest or renown, with half 
 the eagerness, it yearns to set eyes on that insulting 
 springald, Richter Iwan. Though he were encompassed 
 with all the circumstance of war, and nought but this 
 right arm, and the strength of my deeply sworn hatred to 
 spirit me ; alone I'd dash aside his guards and officers, 
 and, with one blow, cleave him down.' 
 
 " ' If,' returned the other, coolly, * to see your enemy 
 at your feet, alone and sleeping, would give you any 
 satisfaction, we can do as much.' 
 
 " ' Where ? when ? how ?' hurriedly demanded the 
 waivode. 
 
 " ' In his tent — to-night — we are of his body guard ; 
 it can be compassed, but our terms must first be sub- 
 scribed.' 
 
 " ' Propound them,' said the waivode. 
 
 " ' Our object is the Richter's death ; — give us your 
 oath, prince, that you will not depart the tent of Iwan, till 
 the life-blood of one or other determine your difl?erence,' 
 
 " ' Gramercy ! good youth, but that's letting me off 
 easy,' returned the waivode — ' I swear !' 
 
 " ' Well, remember !' cried the young champion. 
 
 " The three then proceeded to mature their plan, and 
 it was resolved to put it into execution that coming 
 night. How the matter was arranged, it were tedious to 
 detail : suffice it to mention, that, at midnight, the wai- 
 vode found himself, in a compartment of the tent of his 
 enemy. In the dark, and alone, he waited awhile the 
 coming of his confederates, to conduct him to the help-
 
 160 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 less couch of I wan. Soon one entered, wlio> plucking 
 him by the sleeve, instructed him to follow. Through 
 a Dsedalian labyrinth of canvass, and tent ropes, still in 
 the dark, he tracked the steps of his companion: at 
 length, they were stopped by a sort of arched doorway, 
 deep within a wall of stone. Arrived beneath this porch, 
 the guide of Peter indicated the handle of a narrow 
 postern. * Enter boldly,' he whispered, ' I have cleared 
 the coast : within, you will find the Richter — he sleeps.' 
 
 " The waivode accordingly pushed the door violently 
 open, and rushed forward with drawn sword; but imme- 
 diately he stopped short, blinded, by the blaze of innu- 
 merable pendant lamps that suddenly shone forth, shed- 
 ding their light beyond the extended portal. He stood 
 at the entrance of this long illuminated room, whose 
 whole extent was flanked on either side, with officers and 
 chieftains, glittering in the pomp, and pageantry of 
 military array. At the extremity of the saloon, beneath 
 a canopy of state, was seated the Richter Iwan, on an 
 elevated dais, or platform. Peter seemed astounded, but 
 only for a moment, for quickly rallying, and utteiing the 
 one word, betrayed! he dashed through the wide lane, 
 formed by the surprised host; and, ere an eye could 
 twinkle, reached the upper end of the apartment, where 
 Iwan, who had instantly risen on his intrusion, stood 
 self-possessed and calm. Already was the foot of Peter 
 on the step of the dais, whilst his eagle eye searched out 
 the Richter. In the same instant of time, the waivode's 
 unerring arm was uplifted, and his bright falchion was 
 seen glancing in the torch light, as if, with the irresistible 
 will of fate. 
 
 *' * Welcome, prince l' cried Iwan, with a voice of com- 
 posed, yet terrible grandeur, whilst, with proud humility, 
 he raised, for an instant, the cap of maintenance from 
 his head. Peter shrunk back. His piercing eyes receded 
 in their sockets, and the extended arm and weapon, just 
 raised to strike, sunk slowly by his side: — 'Welcome,
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 161 
 
 prince! Thou hast obtained that, which thou vauntedst, 
 this morning, thou didst pant for, with such great eager- 
 ness. Encompassed with all the circumstance of w^ar, 
 environed by my guards and officers, thou settest eyes on 
 that insulting springald, Richter Iwan.' 
 
 " All eyes were turned on the waivode, who, drawing 
 himself proudly up, looked on the Richter with features, 
 no longer evidencing any emotion, but cold and calm as 
 marble. 
 
 "■'Devils luck! thou, Iwan!' he gruffly muttered; 
 ' thou hast cast thy slough, though, young cockerel, since 
 we last met, — well, let me begone; thou wilt hardly de- 
 tain me.' 
 
 " ' Not I; albeit your oath may,' answered the vilez* 
 sternly; ' thou hast sworn, thou wouldst not leave my 
 tent, till one or other of us, in mortal conflict, bite the 
 dust. Thou shalt have thy heart's content — draw!' 
 
 << 'My ignorance was in fault — gramercy! I am not 
 bound to do battle with the man who saved my life,' re- 
 turned Peter, doggedly. 
 
 " *As you are a knight, I charge you observe your 
 knightly faith,' cried Iwan, with commanding energy; 
 ' I now defy thee, Peter! commonly called the Bloody, to 
 instant, and mortal debate, and proclaim thee apostate, re- 
 negade, and traitor. Deny my challenge, a Voutrance, and 
 on those bifronted terms, I'll stick what's baser, and harder 
 for man to bear, — perjury and cowardice! and in God's 
 light, will give thee out for a perjured coward. Here 
 stands my foot, — there lies my glove.' And with these 
 words, the Richter dashed down his iron gauntlet on the 
 pavement. 
 
 " ' And I take it up, my hero," cried Peter, the 
 terrors of the thunder-cloud charging his brow as he 
 spoke. ' Now, if I cleave thee down for this idle bravade,' 
 he continued, ' as, despite the service thou hast rendered 
 
 * Vilez, hero.
 
 162 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 me, I think, is not unlikely, your officers here will make 
 light scruple, in sending my ghost to hunt thine, in Mano's 
 shadowy realms.' 
 
 " * Not so, by Heaven! Prince,' exclaimed Iwan; 
 * my friends shall pawn their honours for just dealing. 
 Moreover, here are six of my bravest warriors, — give 
 them thy ring — bid them speed to thy camp, there to 
 abide thy safe return, and send hither some trusty gen- 
 tlemen, to give you the assurance of their being detained 
 in custody; if thou fallest not fairly by this hand, let 
 these, thy hostages, answer for it in any way, it may 
 please thee to give orders. And perhaps, Prince,' he 
 concluded, in a less stately tone; 'while this affair is 
 arranging, you will deign to join myself and comrades, 
 at our poor banquet.' 
 
 " To make short, after a gallant entertainment, the 
 champions darrained for the fight. Both were merely 
 mailed, en bianco, and armed only with tlieir swords. 
 The combat was not of long continuance; the experience, 
 and skill of thewaivode were, in vain, exerted against the 
 superior temperance, and quick motions of Iwan. In 
 vain, Peter would have availed himself of his giant 
 strength, to close upon his antagonist. In a very short 
 space of time, his ill-advised attempts cost him succes- 
 sively, three deep gashes, while the platform became a 
 puddle of blood; but insensible, both of pain and fatigue, 
 he continued to shower his weighty blows, as if urged by 
 some mighty engine. Iwan, at length, with wary energy, 
 received one of the passes of his adversary, on his arm, 
 and, almost in the same instant, plunged his sword through 
 the w^aivode's body, who fell prostrate, on the pavement, 
 without groan or struggle. — Such, Count Ragotzy," con- 
 cluded the keeper, '' was the issue of this encounter, and 
 such the merited fate of your friend — the far renowned, 
 Peter the Bloody." 
 
 Ragotzy had listened to the foregoing relation, 
 with his eyes fixed on the ground, in sullen silence, but
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 
 
 163 
 
 the blue lines of his forehead were swoln, with the con- 
 tending emotions of his soul. — '* I ought to mention," 
 presently subjoined the keeper, " that, on the following 
 day, Peter's horsemen passed over to the ranks of the 
 Richter." 
 
 " What, all ?" demanded Ragotzy, in a tone of ex- 
 treme irritation. 
 
 " Every man of them, 1 trow," replied Swartz. 
 
 " My blood gets hot, at the mention of that Iwan," 
 said Ragotzy, adding, in somewhat of a hasty tone, and, 
 for the first time, raising his eye — "Whence has he 
 sprung? — what's his parentage?*' 
 
 " I cannot resolve you," said Swartz. " ' Boni viri et 
 buni vini, non est qucerenda origo ;' * but 'tis not many 
 years since the deceased Richter, whose power he wields, 
 encountered him, a boy-adventurer, wandering along the 
 sterile and rugged granze,t wdiich lies between Turkey 
 and that district, called of old, the Roman Dacia. He 
 introduced him to his camp, and in him built up an 
 edifice of honour, and renown. The lad won on the af- 
 fection of the Richter, but not more than he did, on the 
 Richter's w^arriors, over whom he gained a complete as- 
 cendancy ; so, after that chief's decease, Iwan was unani- 
 mously proclaimed his successor." 
 
 " I'll crop his honours, one of these days, or know the 
 reason." 
 
 " Would you take my advice, you will avoid meeting, 
 in bodily presence, lest, belike, you be sent to sleep with 
 as bloody a bed-fellow, as yourself; but, to return to 
 what we were before discussing — Will you join in league 
 with me?" 
 
 " In what deep ?" returned the count, after a long si- 
 lence ; " do you think to defy the cardinal's perquisi- 
 tions? since 'tis clear, if you connive, at the abduction of 
 
 * A familiar Hungarian proverb, 
 t Granze ; frontiers.
 
 164 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 his ward, not only in the streets of the capitol, but where 
 there is air, more than to keep in life, in all this province, 
 he is sure to pounce upon you. The search will be close 
 and general." 
 
 *' I know not that," said Swartz : " yet, in such a case, 
 should I be taxing your lordship's hospitality too high, 
 were I to resort to a certain forest of Hungary, or seek 
 shelter, in one of those rifted lairs, where the Cyganian 
 wolves lap the blood of their victims, not many leagues 
 from Coloswar ?" 
 
 It is not easy to conceive the astonishment of Ragotzy, 
 at hearing this request. " By heavens !" he exclaimed, 
 *' You are the most extraordinary man, I ever encoun- 
 tered. What fiend hast thou in fee, to possess thee with 
 thine incredible information ? How came you acquainted 
 with my connexion, with the brigands of that forest ?" 
 
 The same distorted smile, or rather sneer, we have 
 noted before, lit up the man's countenance as, repressing 
 the comment that sprang to his lips, he simply made 
 answer, " I cry you mercy, my lord ; I named you not ;" 
 and then, after an instant, subjoined, — " am I to under- 
 stand, it is a treaty ?" 
 
 Ragotzy gave no reply, but mused in silence. Swartz 
 suffered a minute to elapse, and then resumed : " Gad's 
 mercy ! Count Ragotzy, how canst hesitate ? Perceive 
 you not, that you alone will reap all the advantages, ac- 
 cruing from this negociation ? Do I not off'er to aid 
 you with my sword, and counsel, in your present strait? 
 Are not my character and life, at your discretion ? 
 whilst your relative position will be, by my means, incal- 
 culably bettered ?" Still the mind of Ragotzy wavered, 
 and in a state of tumultuous uncertainty, he kept silence. 
 Again the voice of the keeper roused him from his 
 gloomy abstraction. " 1 grant," he said, directing a 
 somewhat bitter, and sneering glance at the Cygani, 
 which, probably meant more than met the eye — '* 1 grant, 
 it will rest with me, some future day, to hand you over to
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 
 
 16^ 
 
 justice ; but, let me ask, were such my cue, might I not, 
 at this instant, alarm the castle, and have you appre- 
 hended ? — I demand of you, is it a treaty V 
 
 *' It is, "answered the count, after having deliberated long 
 in silence ; but he spoke, in that subdued voice and draw- 
 ling tone, which almost implied a negative : and having 
 thus signified his assent, he sunk into the stillness of 
 deep thought. In his secret heart. Count Ragotzy was 
 far from entertaining, with any satisfaction, the idea of 
 joining in this sort of hasty copartnership w^ith a man, 
 whose cognizance of certain mysterious events, seemed, at 
 least, as great as his own, and whose acquaintance with 
 circumstances, referring peculiarly to himself, bordered 
 on the miraculous. 
 
 It was some years before our history dates its com- 
 mencement, that the count remembered to have occasion- 
 ally beheld Swartz in Hermanstadt, anterior to the 
 period, wiien he became the keeper of that insane young 
 nobleman, to whom we have alluded. 
 
 The history of Count Rodna was melancholy. He 
 went by the title, originally belonging to an unknown 
 foreigner, in whose chateau, near the city of Coloswar, he 
 had passed the earliest years of his life, and who was 
 commonly reported, though probably on slight grounds, 
 to have been his grandfather. The murder of his vene- 
 rable benefactor, attended with circumstances of peculiar 
 mystery and horror, had deeply affected the mind of the 
 youthful Sigismund; so much so, that when (a few days 
 afterwards) Swartz arrived at the chateau, to conduct him 
 across the country to the Cardinal Martinuzzi, to whose 
 guardianship, it w^as said, the boy had been consigned, 
 he found his charge already in a state of mental stupor, 
 the sad repose of over-wrought nerves, and the incipient 
 stage of the fatal malady, which, from that day to the era 
 of our narrative, had not ceased to afflict the unhappy 
 eleve of Count Rodna.
 
 166 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 The arrival of Swartz, with his charge, at Rothen- 
 thorn,* (where, excepting during- some rare, and flying 
 visits to Hermanstadt, they had since resided,) happened 
 subsequently to Ragotzy's departure from the capital. 
 
 " Yet," said the Cygani, internally, " the rascal is quite 
 aware of my past pursuits, and half divines my present 
 purpose. Well, I must needs rely on his good offices to 
 a certain extent, though, as regards the bail he would fain 
 encumber me with, I'd just as lief stand excused. Our 
 people, indeed, arrogate the power of exorcising evil spirits 
 out of swine and cattle ; but as for casting out devils 
 from the human species, I ween, it passes their wits-craft." 
 Having dismissed the above train of thought, from his 
 mind, heturned to the keeper : " Swartz," he said abruptly, 
 and in the tone of haughtiness, which, from time to time, 
 he assumed, " How soon can I have an interview with 
 Hubert?" 
 
 " Do you, answered the keeper, give me the meeting, 
 in the adjoining vestibule, at midnight, and, ere then, I 
 doubt not to be able to compass the matter. — " Am I to 
 expect you ?" 
 
 Ragotzy was about to answer, when his attention was 
 attracted, by the gradual elevation of a broad shadow of 
 a human figure, upon the castle wall. The two started. 
 The cowled head of Father Dominick, and afterwards 
 his whole body, emerged into the upper air, within three 
 yards of where they stood, by means of a narrow flight of 
 stone steps, which formed a medium of communication, 
 between that end of the gallery, and the court-yard of 
 the castle. The ominous form had no sooner been de- 
 scried, than it melted away from view, silently, and 
 almost imperceptibly, as some vaporous exhalation of the 
 earth, driven before the light morning wind, will dissolve 
 
 * Rothenthorn, or pass of the Red Tower, distant a few miles south of 
 Hermanstadt.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IV. 167 
 
 into air, as it rolls along. Rapidly, indeed, and like a 
 shade, did the ghostly father glide by, on his way ; but in 
 passing, from the gallery into the semicircular vestibule 
 before mentioned, he paused, stooped, seemed to raise 
 something from the ground, and then was lost to sight, 
 ere either Swartz or the Brigand recovered from their 
 amazement. Then, first, Ragotzy made a movement, as 
 if to rush after him ; but the keeper plucked his sleeve, to 
 hold him back. " Benot rash," he cried, " or we are ruined. 
 Fortunately he did not, I think, observe us. Why should 
 you entail on yourself a similar fate to that of Hubert ? 
 Your interests are mine : be guided in this by me, and I 
 will point you out a path to vengeance, such as — but — 
 this way — we meet at midnight." 
 
 Ragotzy, after muttering some incoherent words, suf- 
 fered himself to be led away, and he, and Swartz passed 
 down the same stone staircase, which the fearful con- 
 fessor had just ascended.
 
 168 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 
 
 " Vexation and anguish accompany riches and honour : 
 the pomp of the world and the favour of the people are but smoke, 
 and a blast suddenly vanishing ; which, if they commonly please, 
 commonly bring repentance ; and for a minute of joy, they bring 
 an age of sorrow." 
 
 Petr. Rav. 
 
 " Rex est, qui metuit nihil ; 
 Hoc regnum sibi quisque dat." 
 
 Chorus in the Thyestes of Seneca. 
 
 '' Narrem Justitiam 1 resplendet gloria Martis 
 Armati referam vires'? plus egit inermis." 
 
 " Te doctus prisca loquentem, 
 Te matura senex audit, te fortia miles." 
 
 Exsectes, inculta dabant quas saecula, sylvis 
 Restituit terras, et opacum vitibus Istrum 
 Consent." 
 
 Claudian. 
 
 Claudian. 
 
 It becomes now our agreeable duty, to transport our 
 gentle reader to a short distance from the gallery, which 
 we made the scene of the foregoing dialogue, between 
 Count Ragotzy and Swartz. Let her fancy herself borne 
 in our arms into the presence-chamber of the lord regent, 
 and our very best obesiance having been performed, we 
 will suppose, that, in the sweetest tones imaginable, she 
 has intimated her grateful sense of the trouble, we have
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 
 
 169 
 
 given ourselves. Indeed, most amiable young lady, we 
 consider it no trouble whatever, "The labour we delight 
 in physics pain ;" but hark ! the prompter calls to order: 
 — Icov hotyoj ! * 
 
 The guests had departed — the glittering throng of 
 warriors and nobles, singly,'or in twos and threes, had 
 slowly left the presence — the last lingering envoy had 
 adjusted, to his satisfaction, the difficulty, which had 
 detained him, and had made his last act of reverence; 
 and an unwonted silence, only the more impressive, on 
 account of the previous hum, and busy evidence of life, 
 reigned throughout the citadel. It settled on the mag- 
 nificent apartment, where had been held the levee of the 
 lord regent, who, alone, of all the splendid group, which 
 so lately filled that lofty architectural hall to overflow- 
 ing, lingered on the spot, like its incorporated spirit. 
 This hall had lately been elaborately decorated, and was 
 truly grand in scale, and rich in adornment. The walls 
 were of oak, and pannelled with mouldings, correspond- 
 ing in design, with the splendid oriel window of shafted 
 stone work, " dyed with the soft chequering of a sleepy 
 light," and filled with painted glass, where the sun-beams 
 glimmered dimly, through scenes, representing, and illus- 
 trating the miracles of our Redeemer. The ribbed arches 
 of the lofty roof were richly wrought, and crossed each 
 other in numerous compartments. The effect of the 
 whole, emblazoned, as it was, with armorial achievements 
 and insignia, viewed, in its " awful perspective," from 
 either extremity, was inconceivably grand, and imposing. 
 On the west side of the hall, a private door opened upon 
 a spiral staircase, that gave access to the lord cardinal's 
 suite of apartments. 
 
 On that day, the courtiers (mostly foreign) had vied 
 with one another, in their marked deference of man- 
 ner, towards Martinuzzi. Not an ambassador, but who 
 
 * Sophocles — lileially, "Behold, I open !" in allusion to the iicKVK- 
 \rjna, or mode of shifting the scene, on the Greek stage. 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 had signified the friendly disposition of his respective 
 sovereign. The stoled ecclesiastic — the gallant ve- 
 teran, '' bearded like a pard," whose very name sounded 
 like an alarum, — and the stripling chief, emulous of 
 the other's honourable career — the well-caparisoned 
 knight, " whose only talisman was his sword," — and 
 the proud graf, who could number a long, and unbro- 
 ken line of noble ancestry, whose chivalrous deeds might 
 have illustrated, for centuries, the history of Hungary — 
 one and all, on that day, had done homage to the 
 genius, if not to the rank, of Martinuzzi ; and not a few 
 had intimated, in terms, which could not admit of mis- 
 construction, that, in the present juncture of affairs, there 
 was only one arm in Hungary, potent to wield her scep- 
 tre — only one man, upon whose head, her sacred crown 
 ought to descend. But these flattering testimonies 
 sounded, on Martinuzzi's ear, like something false and 
 hollow; and when he looked around him, in hopes of des- 
 crying some nobleman, or chieftain of native growth, 
 whose order constituted the real strength, and pride of 
 Hungary, it wasonly rarely, and ''far between, '*thathiseye 
 lit on such. Unfortunately, from natural affection towards 
 those, who, without reserve, applauded his elevation, the 
 regent, after his memorable overthrow of his foreign and 
 domestic enemies, had suspended many of the magnats 
 from military offices, which they had previously filled, 
 with the approval of their countrymen, and (with the 
 single exception of Valentine Count Turascus) had sub- 
 stituted, in the principal commands, men, who, whatever 
 might be their deserts, were strangers in the land, and 
 whose names or titles sounded dissonantly to the ears of 
 an Hungarian. This was a step, which, by depositing the 
 seeds of party and faction, in the prejudices and strong 
 corporate spirit of the native aristocracy, proved the 
 source of much future calamity. For years after the 
 adoption of an expedient, which accused, in some mea- 
 sure, the prescient eye of Martinuzzi, that prelate bitterly
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 171 
 
 repented its impolicy. He had, thereby, certainly ren- 
 dered the external surface of his administration more fair 
 and entire ; but, in spite of its commanding posture, and 
 aspect of authority, its moral foundations were silently 
 crumbling from beneath it. The final issue shall pre- 
 sently be unfolded. It may,'however, be just necessary 
 to observe, that on that day, Martinuzzi found cause to 
 regret, more deeply than he had ever before done, having 
 embraced so unfortunate a measure. He had indulged 
 very sanguine hopes, that all parties, at whatsoever sa- 
 crifice of individual interest, would have been glad to 
 unite, in a common scheme of defence, against a common 
 enemy, and, oblivious of past causes for alienation, and 
 distrust, without hesitation, would have ranged them- 
 selves, in so critical a state of affairs, under his standard. 
 But the prejudices and hostilities of an aristocracy, pos- 
 sessing such mighty, and independent authority, could 
 not be quietly inurned, at a moment's warning, however 
 pressing, and arduous the conjuncture ; and so it was, 
 that even their sense of the enormities, which would other- 
 wise be enacted, — the dread apprehension of the utter 
 ruin, and subversion of their country (whose extent might 
 be virtually measured, by the walls of the metropolis), 
 did not reconcile the exiled patriots, assembled in Her- 
 manstadt, to Martinuzzi's rule, although, had the nation 
 been united and resolved, that authority and genius, 
 which had hitherto surmounted all difficulties, were ad- 
 mitted to be equal to the exigency of affairs. 
 
 That very day, the regent, in hopes of conciliating his 
 enemies, had lent a willing ear to the proud solicitations 
 of Queen Isabella, that he would appoint one of her 
 creatures, (by name, Mirce), to a post of considerable 
 trust, in the city of Coloswar, vacant, by the mysterious 
 evanishment of Count Oldimar, one of the castellans of 
 that fortress. But the magnats of Erdely were not so to 
 be reconciled, at the eleventh hour; their standing feud, 
 or hereditary patriotism, might not be intermitted; and 
 i2
 
 172 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 notwithstanding the regent's unrivalled talents for govern- 
 ment, although placed at the head of a vsrell-organized, 
 and adventurous body of men, who, he knew, would prove 
 their fidelity to the last, he felt, as though the hasty 
 structure of his power tottered to its foundation, from 
 the disheartening conviction, that it rested not on its 
 broad, and proper basis. 
 
 On that day, Martinuzzi had summoned to his aid, all 
 his occult power of stealing on the affections, and whilst 
 the enthusiasm of his eloquence elicited the sympathy of 
 his auditors, and inspired the passions, which, he felt, he had 
 stamped upon their memory, a never-dying impression of 
 his incomparable abilities. He had confirmed his friends 
 in their confidence. The timid were heartened : the 
 neutral, and wavering secured: those who were too eager 
 for his usurpation, or who might have expressed themselves 
 too incautiously to that effect, were gently reined back, 
 without finding their affections alienated, or their hopes 
 diminished. He knew how to distinguish between men, 
 who adhered to his cause, from attachment to his person, 
 or who stood by him, as being the constitutional rallying 
 point of the lords of Hungary, and those adventurers, 
 who bore arms, under the shadow of his standard, merely 
 in consideration of the distinction, or greater licence and 
 plunder, which so desperate a service seemed to hold out. 
 To the first class his manner was, beyond expression, 
 bUnd, and courteous. To the patriot, his language 
 teemed with enthusiasm, and inspiration, being notwith- 
 standing, firm, dignified, and uncompromising. In a 
 strain of eloquence, that carried away all hearts, and 
 which bound down the unwilling mind to conviction, he 
 inveighed against the past, and present insidious policy of 
 Austria; and insinuated his doubts, that neither the 
 mountains, nor reciprocal terror, would much longer 
 prove a barrier from her aggression.* 
 
 * Germania a Dacis (i. e. Hungary and Transylvania), mutuo metu 
 aut montibus separatur. — Germ. Tacitus.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V 
 
 173 
 
 Then, on the other hand, pointing to the creed of the 
 Prophet, as involving the principle of universal dominion, 
 he declared, that the Moslem crescent, was the land-mark 
 of Africa, and that it darkly delineated the geography of 
 those regions, which lay between the river of Egypt, and 
 the Atlantic, and the great desert. He exclaimed, in the 
 words of Daniel — " The abomination of desolation is in 
 the holy place ;" and after showing, that the same ensign 
 cast the shadow of its despotism over Asia, since the 
 civil, and religious sceptre of the oriental world, was held 
 by the great Turk, his mind misgave him, he said, when 
 he reflected on that renown, which, converging its rays 
 from the east and from the south, streamed, like a comet, 
 over astonished Europe. He exposed the rapid, and ex- 
 tensive conquests of Solyman, that vigilant and sagacious 
 sultan, whose eye, from the palace of his seraglio, per- 
 vaded the vast extent of his dominions, in three quarters 
 of the globe. He demonstrated, from the position of the 
 sinking state, whose narrow bounds were encircled and 
 pressed by a hostile line on every side, that, unless their 
 measures were concerted with prudence, and prosecuted 
 with no less promptitude; the province of Transylvania 
 must speedily be swallowed up, in the collision of the rival, 
 and conflicting empires; and finally, he called upon 
 all true Hungarians to rally round the beautiful ori- 
 flamme, upheld by a nation's rights, her liberties, and 
 her faith. 
 
 He deprecated the idea, of his ever having been go- 
 verned, by any other motives, than those of honour, pa- 
 triotism, and the exaltation of the church; and, alluding 
 to the reports, so industriously circulated, of his design to 
 make himself king, he complained of them, as a cruel, 
 and unfounded calumny, incompatible with his principles, 
 and utterly at variance, with the whole tenor of his life. 
 
 " Verily, gentlemen," said Martinuzzi, in conclusion; 
 '* the crown, I covet, is a heavenly crown; and, after a 
 sufficient experience of the unsatisfactory nature of what
 
 174 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 the world calls glory, casting my view towards a brighter 
 prospect, I sigh for the repose of a cloister." To such as, 
 he guessed, had joined his service, in order to advance 
 their own selfish, and separate ends, how little soever 
 solicitous about his failure, or success, he had already 
 been liberal in his appointments; and if he dilapidated, 
 by his donatives, the treasure, or rather the indigence, of 
 the state, and exhausted those revenues, already too 
 much impoverished, he might be allowed to be still more 
 profuse, in his praises, and promises, and to lavish " with- 
 out circumspection or restraint," all sorts of encourage- 
 ments over the future. An address to this purport, which 
 derived, perhaps, its chief effect, from that irresistible 
 fervour, so natural to the mind of Martinuzzi, made the 
 desired impression on his audience. There was hardly 
 an individual, who came into the lord regent's presence, 
 on the day we commemorate, but, who left him, knit to 
 his cause, and devoted to his interests, by one of the 
 strongest of all ties, that of affection and respect, based 
 on their common hopes, and common policy.* 
 
 The position, which Martinuzzi occupied, at that moment, 
 in the eye of Europe, was most interesting, and strikes us, 
 when we look back on it, with an air of magnificence. If 
 high renown, the universal admiration of his contempora- 
 ries, exalted rank, and well-earned opulence, — if a king- 
 dom at his disposal, backed by the Pope's Bull, as one 
 recompense of a life of abstinence and virtue, — if the re- 
 spect of every crowned head in Europe for a character, 
 whose dangerous importance, the voice of envy could do 
 no more than magnify, — if his own consciousness of sur- 
 passing inward endowments, which, by a happy, but rare 
 conjunction, combined the most profound acquirement, 
 and commanding reach of mind, with an unwearied, pa- 
 tient, and eagle-eyed energy of thought, — if genius, at 
 once brilliant and correct, seeming almost an emanation 
 
 * TiKTOVffi yap cvvoiav IXnideg Koivdi. — AIiniAN.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 175 
 
 from the superior intellect, — if this felicitous combina- 
 tion of rare endowment, did not ensure as much happi- 
 ness, as was proper to a devout and holy man, his at- 
 tached followers and friends greatly deceived themselves. 
 They argued that, 
 
 ** In their own hearts the earnest of the hope. 
 
 Which made them great, the good will ever find."* 
 
 His serenity and spiritual peace were, on the occasion we 
 refer to, reflected on the regent's countenance. Every 
 syllable of his towering oratory, bespoke a mind at ease ; 
 and whilst all the sensibilities of his noble nature were 
 awakened, as he depicted the wretched condition of his 
 country, with breakers a-head, and drifted from her 
 anchors; all could discern, or fancied they saw, the 
 honest pride of virtue strengthen him, in the reflection, 
 that his was the voice to calm the moral tempest, and that 
 it was his province, to guide the helm, through so intricate 
 a navigation, as lay before the vessel of the state. 
 
 Incumbat si turbid us Auster, et unda 
 
 Pulset utrumque latus : posito certamine nautae 
 Contenti meliore manu, sese que ratemque 
 Unius imperiis tradunt, artemque pavore 
 Confessis finem studiis fecere procellse.t 
 
 And now, Martinuzzi remained alone in that regal hall, 
 so lately crowded with the gaiety and gallantry of youth, 
 and the wisdom, or piety of maturer years. He was left 
 alone, — alone, with his glory and gladness ! Ah ! well 
 might the preacher question, whether the eminent of their 
 age, whom the shallow world is wont to deem the 
 favourites of fortune, view, in their secret soul, the dis- 
 tinction, in the light of a happiness. t Martinuzzi was 
 
 * Shelley. 
 
 t Claud. Laus Serense. 
 
 ♦ Et ceux que vous regardez comme les heureux du siecle, sont ils 
 toujours tels a leur propres yeux 1 — Massillon.
 
 176 MATS'USCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 seated at the council table, busily engaged, with certain 
 state-papers, arranged before him. Some he turned over, 
 with a hasty glance, and on others, he appeared to dwell, 
 as if their contents liad been of greater moment. 
 
 From the paths of blood, — and such, for the most part, 
 is the history of the turbulent era of our narrative, — it is 
 grateful to turn aside, in order to contemplate the display 
 of genius and of virtue. — Ttis pleasing to repose, if only for 
 a moment, on so magnanimous and beautiful a character, 
 as that of Martinuzzi ; and in this view, we are here 
 tempted to make our readers more intimately acquainted 
 with him. Nature had enriched the person of Martinuzzi 
 with the choicest endowments. He was, as historians in- 
 form us, one of the handsomest men of his time. His 
 stature, although above the middle height, never struck 
 the beholder as being tall. His deportment was eminently 
 graceful ; he was uncommonly well built, and capable of 
 enduring considerable fatigue. His face was a perfect 
 oval ; his eyes, a deep and melancholy blue, replete with the 
 most touching sensibility, were strongly indicative of the 
 prevailing thoughtfulness of his nature, although, when 
 his soul spake through those eyes, with all the energy of 
 genius, or when they lit up, in sympathy with his native 
 eloquence, nothing could exceed the piercing brilliancy 
 of their expression, alike calculated to lighten the heart 
 of suffering innocence, and to appal the guilty, or abash 
 the oppressor — " Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos." 
 In his Roman nose, and slightly distended nostrils, the 
 determination, and force of his nature sat conspicuous. 
 The lordly expanse of his beautiful, and pellucid brow 
 denoted the mens divinior, which it curtained. Tlie ad- 
 mirable curve of his lips, the very seat of charity, and the 
 rounded dimpled chin (whose contour, when lovely, is so 
 characteristic of an amiable disposition,) bespoke, in 
 George Martinuzzi, the singular gentleness and benignity 
 of his nature. One remarkable feature, however, we must 
 not forget, if we would complete the vraisemb lance of our
 
 MiiNUSCRIPT V. 177 
 
 portrait. The right ear of Martinuzzi, ever since he 
 arrived at the age of manhood, was distinguished by a 
 tuft of dark hair.* He appeared, at this period, to have 
 scarcely seen half a century ; but it is probable, that the 
 onerous cares and anxieties of state had somewhat antici- 
 pated the furrowing touch of time. 
 
 On the occasion, when we first introduced him to our 
 readers, the cardinal was arrayed in the sumptuous, and 
 splendid vestments, befitting a high dignitary of the 
 Catholic church, t and the efi'ect, which they produced, 
 was as imposing, as could well be conceived. He wore 
 a pelisse of massive gold tissue, thrown over a sort of 
 tunic of embroidered velvet, likewise superbly tissued, 
 and of the colour of violet, edged round with the richest 
 point lace. A golden mitre, upon a white ground, rested 
 on his head ; his shoes were of crimson satin, and a dia- 
 mond of highest price, in the form of a buckle, sparkled 
 from either foot. The throne, or chair of state, on which 
 he reclined, having embroidered cushions of crimson 
 velvet, was surmounted by a canopy of solid gold. 
 
 What thoughts Martinuzzi had under this gorgeous 
 attire, it were perhaps fearful to unfold ; nevertheless, with 
 the reader's indulgence, we shall attempt it. After occu- 
 pying himself, for a brief space, in arranging certain state- 
 papers, and noting down occasionally any idea, which 
 suggested itself, in regard to their contents, Martinuzzi, 
 at length, abruptly laid the pen aside, and, after a pause, 
 gave voice, in a low and subdued tone, to a train of ideas, 
 in which hitherto he had silently indulged. His broken, 
 and interrupted speech indicated the throes of feeling, 
 struggling for deliverance, — the spontaneous unburthen- 
 ing of a soul, wound up to its highest tension, — of a heart, 
 almost bursting with emotions, that for long, " like the 
 
 * Dextram auriculam ejus qua naturali adnato pilosa erat, etc. — 
 
 ISTHUANFF. 
 
 t ujg wiKpiov UpaT(vo[.ievov crrstparuj. 
 i5
 
 178 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ocean's tide, was shut up with doors."* The indignant 
 waters roared and chafed — 
 
 Nunc iapides adesos 
 Stirpes que raptas et pecus et domos 
 Volventis una. t 
 
 " Well !" — in such broken array was his reverie mar- 
 shalled — ''well, the day breathed at last. The shadows 
 fled away ; the blue and vigorous air did shake its wings ; 
 the blithe, immortal day, grew young again ; the bat re- 
 tired to his chamber of delicious darkness, to rest from 
 his vigils of the night; the church-yard graves yawned, 
 and received back their restless tenantry ; the contem- 
 plative owl forsook his tower, and reposes in security, 
 till the darkness again call him to his stated occupation ; — 
 all — all, whose affairs, like mine, and nameless work, 
 walk by midnight, — all but me! I — I alone, of all the 
 solitary things, that hate the insulting light, know not 
 whereinto I may rush, that, with the mantle of a capa- 
 cious mist, I might envelope me. I cannot, when the 
 sickly stars are out, flee, like the rest, to loathsome char- 
 nels; I cannot, when the tedious, toilsome night is over, 
 wrap me up awhile, and, in concealment, slumber away 
 from day, or sit upon the earth, with open eyes, counting 
 the lazy minutes until eve, companioned by majestic 
 silence; I miust not fly my soul, nor my soul me; no 
 unthought-of chamber, cut out of marble — no silent 
 tabernacle, proffers its sanctuary to m.e — no church-yard 
 asyla will hallow my consciousness. For me, there is no 
 shadow, in the day-shine, from the heat, no covert from 
 the storm, no place of refuge from the tyranny of eyes, 
 that repress, and hedge me round. — Hush !" 
 
 Here, recalled, by the very excess of his feelings, the 
 regent glanced jealously, and hurriedly around him. 
 
 '' No !" he muttered, in answer to his own thoughts, 
 and then again peered into the perilous depths of his 
 
 * Job. t Horace.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 
 
 179 
 
 soul, taking up the thread of his reflections, where he 
 had dropped it. *' 1 must go forth," he proceeded, 
 in an indistinct murmur, " amid the garish haunts of 
 this familiar life — go forth erect, as if, under my 
 distracting purple, no livid spot deformed me. Oh ! 
 I must smooth, and torture my countenance, with de- 
 ceiving smiles, regulate my pulse-throb, modulate my 
 very tones — ay, tutor my tongue in the insolence of 
 words, ere I let the traitors escape my lips. God ! 
 my brain may burn, my heart may battle and break, 
 no one heeds ; for neither thought, nor feeling must 
 find repose in me. Oh ! thou bright fruit, gilded 
 by young ambition, to be plucked from the aspiring 
 branch, I have clutched thee, indeed ; but, ah ! the leap 
 hath hurt my precious soul. Like to the apples of As- 
 phaltes,* thou wert most fair to the eye, but bitterness, 
 and ashes to the taste." 
 
 Martinuzzi ceased ; and, flinging himself into his seat, 
 seemed overpowered, by inward emotion. Then, after 
 awhile, he lifted up his head, and continued to soliloquize 
 aloud. 
 
 '^ I remember me, when I was a boy, I could dream, 
 through the weariless summer-day, in high and holy 
 abstractions, with love of kind, and country. To my 
 thought, the solid globe grew animate, and vocal : beau- 
 tiful the misty twilight then, sank on the wind-swept 
 shore. Oh ! with what syllables of tender and eternal 
 mystery, did the softest notes of falling waters harmonize 
 silence to my heart. Ah ! in the minstrelsy of hope, all 
 sounds and sights of life's diurnal round enkindled omens, 
 and mystic meanings of the future — bright personifica- 
 tions, as in an elder day. Night, sublime, walked the 
 pale rocks ; and the blessed sunshine, that rode upon the 
 summer mist, was mildest. Banquet of peace, unbought ! 
 
 * See Notes to the third Canto ofChilde Harold ; or Tacitus, Histor.i. 
 5.7.
 
 180 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 and the transparent goblet ! Yellow-haired Morning, and 
 the weeping wild rose, how ye did charm me! And 
 how from pride, and pomp, and mere human grandeur, 
 my fancy framed an idol ! But what have these enamoured 
 oracles of youth — what have they all come to ? Why did 
 I grow out of them ? Would that I could have remained 
 for aye, by Alicia's side, straying, with book in hand, 
 amid the groves,* a guiltless, dreamy, unsophisticated 
 boy, instead of — oh God ! now — poor, most poor, with 
 abundance !"t and Martinuzzi clinched his two hands, 
 with fearful agony. " Now, — fame, and dignity, and 
 sceptred power, are like the furies ; and all freshness of 
 the heart, the mildest moisture of the dew of life, makes 
 their dire aliment, | The air, I breathe, comes coffined 
 up in sepulchres; the quilts, I lie on, are too sumptuous, 
 too filled with gossamer, to yield their spell ; the viands 
 all are delicate, too much for food, and in digestion turn 
 to aconite ; the flowing chalice mantles to the brim, with 
 'gall of asps;'^ all language is a lie; the thoughts, 
 which I endure are damnable ; where'er 1 set my foot is 
 strewed with aspicks ; the life, 1 hold is death's eternal 
 torture. Oh, God ! in what, after all, is my glory? Can 
 this be glory ? Oh ! if this be being, better, a thousand 
 times better, were extinction. No, no — Tush ! I forget, 
 I have one secret consciousness sweetening this hell upon 
 earth ; and for the rest, great God ! I am myself the 
 error. Fiat voluntas tua /" 
 
 Here Martinuzzi slid down from the throne, and, clasp- 
 ing his hands tightly, knelt on the golden footstool, fas- 
 tened to the seat ; his lips, for awhile, faintly stirring 
 with internal prayer, seemed like the leaves of autumn 
 shivering in the night-wind, when, wrapping his face in 
 his gorgeous mantle, his devotions came to a pause, or, 
 
 * Tant6t, un livre en main, errant dans les preries. — Boileau. 
 t Inopem me copia fecit. — Ovid. Metam. 
 t See the Euripides of iEschylus. 
 § Job, ch. XX. ver.l4.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 181 
 
 if he still held communion with Heaven, he thought his 
 orisons, and became, to all appearance, calm as silent. 
 From this posture of musing quietude, he was presently 
 roused, by a footstep striding along the hall, and the 
 shadow of a man fell on the wainscot, beyond the regal 
 chair. He looked up, and having recognized the in- 
 truder, exclaimed, in a deep, low, ghostly voice, '* 'Tis 
 even he! oh, God ! who shall gainsay thy judgments? 
 It is most meet, that I feel thy penance for the sin of my 
 parent, and that his presence bring a tribe of fiends to 
 minister to thy wrath. Yet, lie still awhile, oh my torn 
 heart ! I am nothing else but regent." 
 
 In saying these words, Martinuzzi arose, and, while 
 deep, calm thought alone was pourtrayed upon his pas- 
 sionless countenance, advanced to meet the intruder, 
 who pursued his impetuous course, to and fro, without 
 heeding the regent's approach. The individual, we men- 
 tion, was clad in weeds of mourning. One would not 
 predicate, from his juvenile aspect, that he had reached 
 his majority ; probably he had not. His stature ex- 
 ceeded the middle height of man ; his features, though 
 wild, were strikingly handsome; and his long sable locks 
 flowed negligently over his shoulders. Martinuzzi came 
 up to him, and, grasping his hands within his own, whilst 
 his eyes grew vivid with sensibility, he said, '' Sigis- 
 mund ! my son !" The other gazed vacantly, but made 
 no answer. 
 
 Martinuzzi continued, — ''You leave Rothenthorn so 
 rarely, that when you do visit Hermanstadt, you are to 
 blame to keep yourself so close. The grandson of Count 
 Rodna should not so slight his guardian." 
 
 " Prithee, your eminence," returned Sigismund, "who 
 is Count Rodna's son ? Is he one of the eternal lazar 
 house of Italy or France, they tell me, you saddle, on 
 the broad shoulders of fair Erdely ? Make us acquainted, 
 I beg of you, that is, an you promise me his countship 
 will bear with my humours ? for I have no notion of your
 
 182 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 mettlesome grafs, who spar for every trifle. The eyes of 
 the LadyCzerina, or your highness's buckles, will set the 
 magnates of your court cock-a-hoop in an instant, and 
 'tis heigh-ho for a tilting bout, though, for aught they 
 can know, or your eminence will swear to, the brilliancy 
 of one or other may be but counterfeit. I hope I speak 
 no treason." 
 
 A slight shade passed across the fine countenance of 
 Martinuzzi. There was a pause. 
 
 " Did you walk hither, with the intention of seeking 
 me ?" inquired the regent, coldly. 
 
 " Perhaps I may have," answered the youth, in a tone 
 of indifference. " We ever like to look on the outward 
 prototype of our frequent, and internal meditations. To 
 stand in the shoes of the late king, which in others had 
 been dangerous, in your eminence looks honour. What, 
 in a madman, (myself, for instance,) had been usurpa- 
 tion, in Martinuzzi were only lawful rule ; and though it 
 be high treason for a subject to compass St. Stephen's 
 crown, in Martinuzzi it will be patriotism, for so the car- 
 dinal most solemnly gives it out, and he is esteemed as 
 holy, and as reverend a man as any in the land. We see, 
 you are reverend: you have the phylacteries of your profes- 
 sion inscribed, in glittering characters, on your front. The 
 blind might spy you out, at a distance, as they would a 
 civet cat. Your vestments might put Soliman to flight, as 
 erst the pomp of St. Leon did the Goth.* I'd credit your 
 eminence for a tun of reverence, but in respect to your 
 holiness, or belike I rate you too highly, 'tis comparable 
 to my poor wits, I trow, — a grain, and to spare." 
 
 Martinuzzi hid his face in the palm of his hands, and 
 moaned audibly. The lips of Sigismund were curled, 
 even to scorn, as with bitterness he proceeded — 
 
 " Dost practise howling, your highness ? Nay, then, 
 
 * Alluding to the rout of Attila, occasioned by the imposing appear- 
 ance of the pontifical train.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 183 
 
 thou'lt top thy part one day, and they'd best grow cotton 
 betimes in Tophet, if they'd spare their teeth. Resolve 
 me, most sapient Pharisee — think'st thou, the soul, if 
 melted at last to penitence, could gush out tears enough 
 to make a flood so mighty, as, in the course of time, 
 might wipe away the stains of regicide?" 
 
 Martinuzzi looked up, and with an air of mild, and sad 
 composure, answered — " I hope so, Sigismund. I be- 
 lieve so, with God — " 
 
 ''Ay, ay ; but not with man, sir," rejoined the youth, 
 with stern significance. '' Not all the tears contrition 
 ever shed, can wash out treason : — with God, you say ? 
 Well, with God — I hope so too." 
 
 Another pause ensued, which was broken by Marti- 
 nuzzi again demanding the cause of his being favoured 
 with his companion's visit ? 
 
 " It was here, but now, my lord," replied Sigismund, 
 putting his finger to his forehead, "and, hey! presto, 
 'tis gone ! Your eminence is such good company, and 
 so facetious, withal, you would corrupt the memory of a 
 saint, and, i'troth, mine is none of the readiest. When 
 I find myself in the presence of your mightiness, for the 
 life of me, my head can only compass the single idea of 
 your eminence's transcendant qualities. But I cry you 
 pardon : — was not St. Peter, in his day, bishop of Rome, 
 your highness ? " 
 
 " Even so," said Martinuzzi. 
 
 '' I have been thinking," rejoined Sigismund, " that 
 his holiness must have thought his translation to the ja- 
 nitorship of heaven, a happy preferment; and, egad, if 
 being head-jailor, in these dominions, would qualify you, 
 for an assistant of his saintship, your eminence, after all, 
 need not despair of the appointment, when he wearies of 
 his office. By the way, I would have an order to tra- 
 verse your Tartarus, beneath the citadel, most reverend 
 Pluto!" 
 
 '' Sigismund, you surprise me," said the regent; ''those,
 
 184 MANUSCRIPTS OF EllDELY. 
 
 who are now in the dungeons, are mostly confined there, 
 for treasonable practises." 
 
 " Perhaps so," rejoined the youth; '^ yet when Heaven 
 has cast up his account, some of them, I surmise, will 
 be called to an easy reckoning." 
 
 " In what respect can they, or their habitation con- 
 cern you ? " inquired Martinuzzi. 
 
 "Why-, in sooth, not greatly," replied the youth: 
 '' shall I say my body's lead, and I've too much phlegm ; 
 or, that the antics of human nature are so wild, and va- 
 rious, — so modified by circumstance, — that I should like 
 to join in a game of bo-peep below ; nay, I recommend 
 to your eminence, the experiment. You've no notion 
 what a spell 'twould cast, o'er your downy couch, were you 
 to look on the flinty pillow of the wretched : — perhaps, 
 one day, or I stumble in judgment, you'll learn the 
 secret. From the captive, triumphing in his fetters, to 
 the tyrant, festering on his stool, there's more stern 
 stuff, in the core of human hearts, than your wise men 
 dream of. Your fool has known as much as this, many 
 a day, and oft ; but who would heed a fool's philosophy, 
 to rail is his vocation, and there's an end on't. Lend me 
 your hand, my lord." 
 
 Martinuzzi held forth his right hand, to the lunatic 
 young nobleman, who, taking it within his own, and 
 carefully examining its lineaments, went on, in the same 
 incoherent strain, as before. 
 
 "A fair hand this, — a fair, and honourable hand, the 
 parasites of a court would tell ye ; but, Luke Swartz 
 reckoned palmistry too deep a study, for one o'my wits, 
 so I never was taught it — 'twere like casting pearls before 
 swine, as the learned express it, which, methinks, were a 
 thankless office. Nathless 'tis a good hand, and this gem 
 sets it off hugely. Is it of price ? — but that I need not 
 ask, — I thank you, sir." 
 
 In saying these last words, the young count removed 
 a ring, from off one of the fingers of the cardinal, and
 
 ma:nuscript v. 185 
 
 put it on his own. It was a plain gold one, bearing the 
 regent's cipher. 
 
 "What mean you, Sigismund ? return me my ring; 
 you trouble me, my son," said Martinuzzi, with some 
 warmth . 
 
 " Gramercy, then, but I am ^rown powerful, my lord, 
 to trouble him that troubles a whole kingdom. For your 
 ring, to-morrow, I will restore it, to-morrow, your emi- 
 nence. There's magic in't, in the interim, and 'twill serve 
 as well as the voice of Hungary's regent, whom I were a 
 traitor, to take from the business of the state, even for 
 the passing of an hour." Thus saying, Sigismund sprung 
 off to the further end of the room. 
 
 At that moment, the seneschal entered, and, after ad- 
 dressing a few words to Martinuzzi, withdrew ; and pre- 
 sently, a young female was ushered into the hall, who, 
 with a modest, but perfectly self-possessed air, advanced 
 towards the regent ; and, with tears starting into her 
 eyes, gracefully cast herself at his feet: — "Mercy! 
 mercy ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " What is your suit?" inquired Martinuzzi, with some 
 slight perturbation of manner, and a scarcely perceptible 
 tremor, in the tones of his voice : " Mercy, unto whom? 
 what would you, maiden ? " 
 
 " Share my father's dungeon, and his danger," an- 
 swered the female; and resisting all the attempts of Mar- 
 tinuzzi to raise her up, she hurriedly continued : " Last 
 night, my father was apprehended, by your orders." 
 
 " On what charo;e ? " asked Martinuzzi, in his wonted 
 mild tones. 
 
 " I cannot say," answered Veronica, for the damsel was 
 no other ; " it is no concern of mine, since, were he the 
 worst of criminals, I am his daughter, your eminence :" 
 and then Veronica, in anxiety to obtain her suit, poured 
 forth all the eloquence of her nature, without reserve, and 
 the orenius of filial love, which was her soul's essence, 
 lent power and energy, to every plea she urged.
 
 186 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 At last, not perceiving any signs of relenting, in the 
 manner of Martinuzzi, she paused, for a sudden fear 
 thrilled her bosom. "You cannot mean, that he should 
 die ? " she exclaimed, and her quivering lip betokened 
 the agony, struggling in her heart : ^' Or, is he dead ? 
 Yes, you have murdered him ! " 
 
 " Prithee rise, my child," said Martinuzzi, in the gen- 
 tlest accents, that ever issued from the lips of authority, 
 *' your father lives; his cause of imprisonment shall be 
 looked to : arise ! " 
 
 *' No, I will beg, till my knees take root i'the earth," 
 returned the maiden, while, lifting her clasped hands, 
 with a look of supplication, she retained a position, as 
 graceful as ever, the genius of sculpture wrought from 
 Parian marble. There was, indeed, something in her 
 sweet countenance, upraised, and every feature working 
 with her impassioned, and fervid pleading, that, (" not to 
 speak it profanely") might have reminded a spectator 
 of the celebrated head of the Minerva.* " My lord, my 
 lord," she continued, whilst her sweet speech flowed from 
 her ruddy lips, in streams of liquid melody : " Oh ! let 
 the vaulted pavement, which encloses my father's crime 
 and wretchedness, lift up, that I may partake the living 
 burial of his solitude." 
 
 Martinuzzi meditated for a moment, ere he made an- 
 swer, '* Daughter, you have your request." 
 
 If Veronica was silent, her eyes, glistening with those 
 tears, with which the overflowing of her heart supplied 
 them, gave token of greater thanks, than the utmost 
 eloquence of language could express. 
 
 " I apprehend, however," continued the cardinal, *' ac- 
 cording to the prison regulations, that you cannot remain 
 after the vesper-bell toll; but rise, virtuous maiden," he 
 added, at tlie same time taking her hand in his, to assist 
 her, from her supplicating posture: "I owe it to your 
 
 * That in the Florence gallery.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 187 
 
 merit to declare, that, by means, you wot not of, you 
 have secured a friend, to your father's house, at his ut- 
 termost need. I am interested in thy fate, my child, 
 more so, than I shall tell you, at present. Would that 
 thy sire's vacillating, and unstable nature, owned some- 
 what of thy metal ! " Then, meeting Veronica's look of 
 surprise, with an almost parental smile, he proceeded in 
 a low voice : ^'Ah ! there must be more matter in thy 
 recreant creed, than I dreamt of, heretofore. By the 
 lady ! 'tis a rare heresy ; but I'll have thee back, never- 
 theless, to the veritable fold." 
 
 The astonishment of Veronica, at these words, was 
 strongly depicted in her countenance. How had the lord 
 regent penetrated the nature of her religious opinions? 
 — a secret she believed to be confined to herself and 
 parent. Her soft eyes, ever vocal with intelligence, 
 sought an explanation, and Martinuzzi, presently again 
 spoke: — 
 
 *' 'Twas your mother's error, child; but, with the bless- 
 ing of Heaven, the defection shall stop here." — Veronica's 
 amazement increased, and her heart palpitated, with ap- 
 prehension, but she would not trust herself to speak: — 
 *' In all else," continued the regent, your mother was an 
 excellent lady," — Veronica started — " only herein, her 
 knowledge wrought to her destruction, and the very in- 
 quisitiveness of human reason proved the snare of her 
 soul: but, I will extricate thee, thou blessed shoot of a 
 frail stem, from the toils, which entangled the daughter 
 of Baron Walstein." 
 
 "Mysterious Heaven!" exclaimed Veronica; "how 
 have you discovered the relationship, which subsisted 
 betwixt me and her, who is a soul in bliss?" 
 
 " She was the cousin, and sworn friend, of the Princess 
 Beatrice," answered Martinuzzi. " Alas ! I knew her 
 well." 
 
 " Oh God ! then you knew, you k?iow my father," 
 cried Veronica, with a scream of awakened terror, as she
 
 l88 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 sunk down, again, on the pavement; and, uplifted her 
 clasped hands, as if in deprecation of the regent's wrath. 
 
 " Damsel," he replied; '^ were certain parties, in Her- 
 manstadt, aware of my having the outlaw in fetters, his 
 life were not worth so much, as a beggar's ransom ; but 
 cheer thee, my child," — and Martinuzzi again upraised 
 the bewildered girl — " cheer thee, I say: whatever be 
 thy father's subsequent crimes, let him answer for them, 
 at the bar of Heaven. As respects his outlawry, I have 
 cognition, that he was unjustly dealt by. I know him, 
 for certain, to be as innocent, as was her royal brother, 
 of the abduction, and death of the Princess Beatrice." 
 
 "Whatdo I hear?" exclaimed Veronica, "Transporting 
 assurance! My father stands acquitted, by the suffrage 
 of Hungary's regent, — my lord, he told you. Ha! you 
 then, — yes, you must have spoken with Him. If I had 
 but breath, I'd ask, was'tthe Graf, Peter Pereny, told 
 you?" 
 
 " That's to be put to question, with a witness!" said a 
 voice from behind, with startling abruptness. The maiden 
 turned her eyes, and Sigismund was seen emerging, from 
 the embrasure of a window, whither he had retired. 
 
 " An thou wilt, to it again," continued the youth; 
 " thou shalt be ordained high priestess of heatheness, 
 and shrine his eminence. Beshrew, my fantasy! if thou 
 hast not chalked thy face guardy, like any mime, and, 
 were my tongue the sacring bell, my lovely transcenden- 
 tal saint here, could not look more stricken: — are ye 
 turned marble both, to save your monuments? What have 
 I spoken, sweetheart? J'ai des Imies, as monsieur puts it; 
 but I never bite, never." The head of Veronica fell 
 abashed ; and, confounded at an address, so startling from 
 its suddenness, she, in silence, turned away. She 
 regretted the circumstance of her father's outlawry, 
 having been proclaimed, in the hearing of a third party, of 
 whom her fancy, as his features were bent on hers, seemed 
 to recal some memory, as in a dream. — His equivocal
 
 MA^^USCRIPT V. 189 
 
 conduct alarmed her, and she looked at the cardinal, for 
 protection. That prelate had been for awhile so occu- 
 pied, with his fair solicitor, as, to have quite forgotten the 
 proximity of Count Rodna, and he was recalled to a con- 
 sciousness of that individual's presence, with an abrupt- 
 ness, that was displeasing. 
 
 Notwithstanding his being accustomed to Sigismund's 
 random, and adventurous sallies, his pungency of remark, 
 on that morning, made a more lively impression on him, 
 than ordinary. The peculiar infirmity of this young 
 nobleman prompted him " to run a-muck and tilt at all 
 he met." Scill, though he would foin, with might and 
 main, no heed was commonly given to his thrusts; his 
 bitterness of invective, serving only to establish the 
 fact of his mental alienation. But, during his brief collo- 
 quy, with Martinuzzi, the distempered language of Sigis- 
 mund conveyed a meaning, sufficiently significant, and 
 there lurked an inexplicable " method in his madness," 
 which did not escape the penetration of the cardinal. 
 The consequence was one of those chilling revulsions of 
 the mind, that jar " the electric chain," connecting the 
 opposite extremes of feeling, and which, thrilling along, 
 over a thousand links in the memory of the past, would 
 be apt, in any case, to emasculate the spirits, and affect 
 them, with no common degree of sadness, but Martinuzzi 
 had still a stronger cause for the depression, which at- 
 tacked him, and v;ith which he could, with difficulty cope. 
 A series of retrospections of most mysterious, and dreadful 
 import rose, in all their inscrutable darkness, to his mind, 
 and their deduction came upon him with the force, at 
 once, and the vivacity of a flash of lightning, 
 
 " And every slack'ned fibre, dropt its hold, 
 Like nature letting down ihe springs of life."* 
 
 It now rushed, with tenfold force, upon his guardian's 
 
 * Dryden,
 
 190 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 memory, that, on Sigismund's occasional tarriance in 
 Hermanstadt, his presumed aberration of mind, made 
 him free of the citadel; and, more particularly, of Marti- 
 nuzzi's suite of apartments. None ever cared to inquire 
 whether the lad continued to inhabit the Tour rouge, or 
 were on a visit to his guardian. He had the most perfect 
 impunity of locomotion, and might do or say, whatever 
 he listed, since no doubt was entertained, by any person, 
 of his intellects being greatly impaired. 
 
 " If he have been acting all this while," mused Mar- 
 tinuzzi, whilst strong sweat broke upon his forehead; " I 
 must have been suspected, and betrayed, misapprehended, 
 and have been slumbering on the precipice of fate, whilst 
 that clear fame, which is dear to my heart, as is the 
 blood, that bubbles there : — but oh ! impossible, it can- 
 not be — 'tis an idle thought: yet there's a strong impedi- 
 ment here, which weighs me to the earth, — it is the error 
 of my blood, whose current runs more sullen than of 
 old. However, I'll look into his humour. So much is at 
 least due to my safety, my honour, the boy's rights, and 
 welfare, — his father's memory." And, with this intention, 
 Martinuzzi expelled, for the present, the ungracious bode- 
 ment. 
 
 What has taken our tardy pen so long to explain, was, 
 to the mind of Martinuzzi, the result of a minute's 
 thought, but even, in so brief a space of time, his appre- 
 hensions had stamped their dreadful character, upon 
 every miniature of his features, literally, in the words of 
 Sigismund, chalking his guardian's face like any mime, 
 Martinuzzi, however, resolved to confine his newly- 
 awakened suspicion to his own bosom; he, therefore, 
 merely observed, in a tone of forced composure : " I 
 thought, Sigismund, you had left the hall ;" and again 
 addressing himself to Veronica, whose eloquent eyes, 
 bent on the ground, refused to glisten through their 
 silken fringes, he said, *' We'll renew our talk here- 
 after. I will now, my daughter, give you what you
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 191 
 
 asked of me," and he turned away, to trace the re- 
 quired order. In the meanwhile, Sigismund launched 
 forth, in that flighty style, ordinary to him : " Meek-eyed 
 votaress to filial piety !" he exclaimed, shedding on his 
 fair auditor the full blaze of his handsome eyes, " would 
 that I knew thy pantronymic, that I might offer up in- 
 cense, on the altar, I have built to thee in my soul. 1 here 
 would I sacrifice pure thoughts, and holy hopes, and 
 loyal aspirations — unshaken faith, and star-like piety — 
 the soft, and cherished charities of the hearth — friend- 
 ship, and kindred trusts, and plumed patriotism, now 
 waving high above the kingly crest, and, anon, the 
 crowning: ensi2:n of the warrior's wreath ; all will I cast 
 
 DO 
 
 down at the feet of thy loveliness." 
 
 Shrinkingly, Veronica listened to the foregoing tirade ; 
 she recognised, in the voice, and gestures of the speaker, 
 a secret charm, that thrilled the mute chords of her 
 sliding heart, and awakened many a forgotten memory. 
 At every pause, she felt inclined to interpose, in order to 
 impress the youthful rhapsodist, with a becoming defer- 
 ence, for the prescriptive majesty of her sex, but she 
 found it difficult to adjust a suitable reproof, or arrange 
 her ideas into the reserved, and formal phrase, she deemed 
 appropriate. Not a little disconcerted, she moved to- 
 wards Martinuzzi, whose silence, during his ward's com- 
 plimentary effusion, had a different source. When, how- 
 ever, at last, the outpourings of Sigismund's spirit had 
 fallen to a pause, and Veronica, to hide the blushes, 
 which burnt upon her cheek, or, perhaps, her displea- 
 sure, turned away, Martinuzzi, with a faint smile, inti- 
 mated to the young count, that his extempore declara- 
 tion of attachment, however natural, was not quite in 
 accordance with the ordinary forms of politesse. 
 
 " 'Tis not well done, my son," he said, " to start the 
 innocent blush, from the pure heart, into the light of 
 day. The fair sex are privileged, from all hasty approach, 
 by the chevaux-de-frize of studied forms, and courtly ob-
 
 192 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 servances — to overstep which limits, though you employ 
 the choicest terms of adulation, were to penetrate the 
 heart you aim at, like unto that fabled falchion, which 
 froze, while it left a wound." 
 
 *' It is hard," replied Sigismund, whilst his mien and 
 gesture decidedly indicated insanity, and even the lines 
 of bis face, appeared to work, in correspondence with his 
 words, that one can never be intent, on any little affair 
 of the heart, but your eminence, with your solemn jar- 
 gon, will whip one from the prospect. It was only last 
 year, you denied me the company of that budding gilly- 
 flower of the palace, whom the people, God forgive them 
 for it ! nickname their queen. You must practise frowns 
 in private on the maid, to awe her with, or you had hardly 
 terrified her grace in the way you did, by smiling ; and, 
 what's worse, I am not likely to encounter the lady's 
 beauties again, before her coronation at Coloswar, whose 
 advent is as near, to all appearance, as is her canoniza- 
 tion, since both, alike, await your eminence's pleasure. 
 
 ** It is my province," returned Martinuzzi, speaking 
 with some little asperity of voice, and manner, (perhaps, 
 from not exactly approving of the free, and caustic tone, 
 adopted by his ward), *' to have regard to the interests 
 of the Lady Czerina, and the living daughter of John of 
 Zapola shall not, while I hold authority, be made the 
 footstool of any man's ambition." 
 
 " I applaud your determination, most absolute pro- 
 tector ; but who shall prohibit you yourself, from making 
 her corpse your stair of empire," replied the other, with 
 a bitter scornful laugh ; " besides, her beams, that, if 
 they shine not on all alike, should, at least, be veiled, 
 are too much pointed : there's an exception to your rule 
 of state." 
 
 " Ha ! let me look on that man in Hungary," returned 
 Martinuzzi, in a voice, both raised, and shaken, by his feel- 
 ings, " bold enough to tamper, with my ordinance, in re-
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 193 
 
 spect to her grace, and the life-weary slave shall bitterly 
 rue it !" 
 
 ** In Hungary, my lord? — a-hem ! but you have not 
 to seek far," responded Sigismund. ''The secretary to 
 the Austrian ambassador, Marc Antoine Ferraro, is this 
 slave." 
 
 Martinuzzi started. — " But see," continued the count, 
 '' where the Graf, Maximilian Pereny, hies him hither- 
 ward. I must show the coxcomb a fair pair of heels for't. 
 I partly perceive, your nephew would fain wear my 
 livery, but I'm as loath as your eminence, to part with 
 my cap and bells, or yield a jot of my prerogative." 
 
 Martinuzzi made no reply ; and, addressing Veronica, 
 the count said, " Adieu I for the present, fair creature; 
 I leave ray late embosomed inmate to thy tender mercies : 
 keep watch, and ward o'er it, for 'tis a mine may repay 
 thy culture." Then, after a pause, turning to Martinuzzi, 
 he spake forth, with stern, and marked emphasis, " Look 
 to your nephew's courses. Lord High Cardinal ! The 
 towering eagle may stretch, and mount against the sun; 
 his princely nature, nay, his heritage, bids him perch on 
 clouds ; but 'tis not so with birds of meaner pinion : 
 should the seeled dove, with faint, unequal wing, dare 
 tour, with upward speed, along the thin, and dizzy paths 
 of light, let him reckon upon the falcon's check, nor cross 
 his eminent track, and shun his beetling landmarks. Tell 
 Maximilian Pereny so much, and, — but I crave pardon; 
 your eminence must have enough on your conscience, 
 without being burdened, by a fool's defiance, or made the 
 go-between of a jester, and a popinjay." So saying, with 
 a graceful obeisance to the cardinal, and a deeper to Ve- 
 ronica, who irresolutely returned the courtesy, the noble 
 and interesting youth, stealing a long look at the maiden, 
 which expressed a world of unutterable devotion, slowly 
 backed out of the hall. 
 
 Martinuzzi gazed after him, with a countenance, in 
 which doubt mingled with admiration. " Yes," tliouo-ht 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 he, " it must be the dim midnight of his mind, and the 
 labouring judgment eclipses, at the unsubstantial co- 
 zenage of his brain. I will make sure, however, and sound 
 that Swartz to the core, and shortly." 
 
 Martinuzzi was here recalled to the business of the 
 moment, as his eyes turned in the direction, where Ve- 
 ronica awaited the signal of her dismissal. " My child," 
 he said, recovering from his momentary emotion, '* I 
 had forgotten — go now to your father ; you have not 
 long to stay with him. It will hinge upon his future 
 fealty, the assurance of which, I have means he little 
 dreams of, to arrive at, whether, for your sake, I pardon 
 his past entanglements ; but, if shapes of crowns continue 
 to shake him, like comets, prompt him, my love, from the 
 lord regent, that no earthly power can avert the conse- 
 quence ; so bid him break the involving net, and make 
 his fate his minister, by self-control. Nay, nay, tremble 
 not," he added, with a kind, and encouraging accent; 
 " bid your father cease, henceforth, to grasp at shadowy 
 sceptres, and I doubt not, that the untoward concur- 
 rence of unhappy circumstances, which, for so long, hath 
 overcast his fortunes, will shortly be dispersed, as the 
 glowing influence of the new-born day dispels the illu- 
 sions of the night." With these words, Martinuzzi pro- 
 ceeded to summon an attendant, and, having placed the 
 damsel under his conduct, dismissed her, with a parting 
 benediction. 
 
 Veronica followed her conductor, with her eyes cast 
 on the ground, and wrapped in painful meditation ; but 
 she had not gone many steps along the corridor, when 
 her chaste ears were saluted, by a strange, affected voice, 
 exclaiming — ** By Venus' doves! an armful of most rare 
 delicacies ! — the philtre of her lips were heavenly 
 nectar I — Jove ! but my uncle hath a taste — by'r lady ! 
 How fly her blushes out from Cupid's armory ! — Art 
 married, sweetheart ?" The affronted maiden, who had 
 stopt short at first unconsciously, now drew herself up,
 
 MANUSCRIPT V 
 
 195 
 
 in order to pour out, in one concentrated glance of her 
 bright eyes, the virtuous reproof, which swelled her bo- 
 som, and armed her cap-a-pee, with its crimson tide. 
 The individual, who, at a short distance, stood eyeing 
 her, with the utmost assurance, leant his elbow on the 
 balustrade, with that free, and easy air of effrontery, 
 which his vanity persuaded him was irresistible. He 
 was a tall, raw-boned, strongly built, ill-featured dandy, 
 the distinguishing expression of whose countenance was 
 imbecility, with a strong cast of self-conceit. In matters 
 of costume, he was manifestly an ultra, being apparelled 
 in as finical, and flaunting a garb, as the fashion of the 
 day admitted of. The tie of his scarf, and the nice ad- 
 justment of his doublet, were matters to admire. But, 
 however the cut, and shape of his rich, passamented suit 
 might exhibit proof of an exquisite fancy, and rare con- 
 ceit, the little taste, or judgment shown in the adaptation 
 of one colour to another, and the profuse embroidery, 
 which overcharged, without exception, every article of 
 vestment, not to mention the bad arrangement of the 
 whole, stamped the character of the man, and served to 
 determine, with how small a share of common sense, the 
 vain attribute of lord of the creation, might consist. He 
 appeared to have seen five-and-twenty summers. 
 
 Veronica raised her head, with the intention, as we 
 have said, to awe down his presumption, with one piercing 
 phillippic of her beautiful eyes ; but she found her object 
 frustrated, by the abrupt departure of the unmannered 
 coxcomb. Before she could again pass on, she dis- 
 covered, that his sudden disappearance was occasioned, 
 by the apparition of a man, enveloped in monkish ha- 
 biliments. With his head declined upon his breast, 
 and face, sunk wuthin the cowl of his habit, this person 
 glided along, like a spectre. 
 
 As soon as the usher of Veronica descried the fearful 
 figure, he exhibited unequivocal symptoms of terror, 
 ejaculating, in a whispering voice — " Mary preserve 
 K 2
 
 196 MA^'USCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 US ! — haste ! — Father Dominick !" Then, without 
 adding a syllable of explanation, he set an example of 
 that celerity, he recommended, and, darting forwards, his 
 rapid walk very soon had all the character of a flight — 
 so that Veronica was fain to exert her utmost speed, in 
 order to keep pace with him. The man did not once 
 slacken his steps, as he traversed sundry staircases, and 
 corridors, until he reached an arched, and massive 
 postern, which, heavy with iron-work, creaked harshly 
 on its hinges. This was the entrance to the dungeons 
 of the citadel, where we leave the maiden, for the 
 present. 
 
 On Maximilian Pereny coming into the hall, shortly 
 after Veronica's departure, he did not, at first, notice the 
 presence of his uncle, but looked obliquely behind him, 
 apparently in apprehension of some one, following in his 
 track. The authoritative voice of the regent, however, 
 arrested his attention. " Come hither, sir," said the 
 prelate, " I have words to utter, whose type is in my 
 heart, and has, ere now, cost me much anguish; — 
 attend to me." 
 
 Pereny bared his brow of its beavered saki,* with 
 waving estridge plume ; and, as Martinuzzi raised him- 
 self, on the rich regal seat, assumed a deferential attitude. 
 At that moment, the same awful form, which, only the 
 instant before, had scared Maximilian from the adjoining 
 corridor, slowly glided, into the hall. Having measured, 
 with inaudible tread, and with visage, inclined to the 
 earth, the entire extent of the marbled flooring, the monk, 
 in solemn silence, drew from his bosom a paper, which 
 he delivered into the regent's hands. Then, turning 
 away, with the same echoless movement of the sandalled 
 foot as before, the mysterious being made his exit, through 
 a door, different from that, by which he had entered. At 
 the awe-inspiring obtrusion of the unholy father, Maxi- 
 
 * A French military cap.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 197 
 
 milian's heart trembled, with superstitious fears ; chill 
 horror curdled in his veins, and relaxed his joints, as the 
 cowled, and terrible ostent directed his stately motions 
 tow^ards him, and he experienced no inconsiderable relief, 
 on his retiring. 
 
 As Martinuzzi's eye passed rapidly over the paper, 
 just put into his hands by his confessor, he seemed to 
 take in, at a glance, its purport, which stole the colour 
 from his cheek, and lip. He suffered his head to droop 
 upon his chest, and instantly became so utterly lost, as to 
 forget, that any one was present. He may even have 
 been unaware, that his thoughts framed speech, as, with 
 a quivering lip, he murmured, looking at the paper^ 
 " ' To Luke Swartz,' — So, — ' Now that Peter is slain, 
 his followers flock to my standard by thousands — but 
 Alaric Polgar is yet to be gained — you understand — 
 to Hermanstadt; I will follow. — Iwan.' I will follow — 
 Iwan ! Indeed ! we must make you welcome then, young 
 gentleman ! How have my apprehensions sent a shadow, 
 black as Erebus, which could never be, were they not 
 substantive ! Yet how is this ? — Iwan in secret cor- 
 respondence with Swartz ! with Swartz,— the man who — 
 oh no! there is no such falsehood. Earth could not 
 abide the monster ; yea, every mute, engendered thing, 
 beneath the all-enclosing firmament, would have an as- 
 pick's tongue, to hiss in his ear — Ingratitude ! Alike at 
 staring noon and sable midnight, the uttering air would 
 spread it about him, like a plague. My faith in Swartz 
 built on a spider's web ! Swartz, upon whose fidelity 
 I relied, as upon the pillars of creation — I'll not be- 
 lieve it." Martinuzzi paused, strode through the hall, 
 as one absorbed in thought, and then again commenced, 
 half audibly, with himself. " And yet this is more than 
 suspicious ; it denotes previous conspiracy ; 'tis a sha- 
 dow, cast, by by-gone days, and nights, and years of 
 treachery, over the whole vista of glory, on which I 
 reckoned. What a lone, marked, forlorn, wrung slave
 
 198 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 am I ! Hemmed in on all sides, whilst my miseries 
 haunt me, like blood-hounds ; yea, even on that point of 
 retreat, whence first I started, they head me back. It 
 cannot last — be still, — how then ? I must select, and 
 spring upon the foremost foeman. What, ho ! who 
 waits ?" An attendant appeared. '^ Hie thee to the 
 apartments of Viscount Rodna," said the lord regent, 
 " and order the ingrate — I mean the keeper — to attend 
 me, in my cabinet, and there await my coming." 
 '' Swartz, your eminence ?" inquired the man. 
 " Did I not say so, sir?" said Martinuzzi, with un- 
 usual asperity. The attendant left the hall, and the 
 regent, pressing his hands to his brow, exclaimed, " What 
 drops are these, have gathered on my forehead ?" Then, 
 in a subdued, and melancholy tone, he went on — " Yes, 
 I strain, as doth the soaring eagle, entangled in the folds 
 of the green serpent, that tires upon her heart; and feel, 
 perhaps, like her." The regent paused ; he covered his 
 eyes with his hands, as if to shade some painful emotion. 
 Presently, with a violent effort, recovering himself, he 
 walked up and down the hall, for a few moments, and 
 then turned suddenly towards his nephew, who stood an 
 astonished witness of Martinuzzi's discomposure. 
 
 *' What do you, sir," asked the regent, abruptly, 
 " with that purple on your shoulder?" 
 
 Maximilian coloured, and he hesitated to reply. 
 " Will you please to attend, sir! What do you with 
 that purple?" re-demanded Martinuzzi; *' 1 desire an 
 answer to my question." 
 
 *' May it not displease your eminence," replied Pereny, 
 '' 'tis a scarf of sendal — a kind of — a most choice piece 
 of raiment — truly of very felicitous cut, and of the 
 newest fantasie." 
 
 " 1 spoke of the colour, sir," said Martinuzzi, with 
 severe emphasis. 
 
 " Why, I cannot say much for the colour, if it dislike 
 vour eminence," answered the other.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 199 
 
 " It doth offend me, sir," returned the cardinal, whilst 
 a shade of dark displeasure settled on his countenance. 
 " In common with every honest man in Hermanstadt, it 
 offends me, to behold the laurel round thy temples — to 
 mark a mindless, inconsiderate dolt, strutting and swell- 
 ing-, like the frog- in the fable. Everlasting shame ! the 
 blossom, which thou hast plucked, and wound, as 'twere 
 a chaplet, within thy hair, shall never grow a fruit, nor 
 glisten, but the day long, on thy forehead. That gar- 
 ment, too ! Sir, it is a basilisk in my eyes. Nearer." 
 
 Maximilian approached the cardinal, who, unloosen- 
 ing the invidious emblem, from his nephew's shoulders, 
 rent it asunder, and trampled the shreds under his feet. 
 "There I" he exclaimed, with vehemence, '^ tear it to 
 rags ! Is this a time," the regent continued, " when the 
 enemies of Hungary ride the country, with arrayed ban- 
 ners, to perk your folly, in the face of the land ? Who 
 put into thy mind a robe, like that ? Wer't drunk, to as- 
 sume it, and incense the wise, and valiant, who now throng 
 this city, in the forlorn hope of averting the shipwreck of 
 the state — wert drunk, I ask ?" 
 
 " The forlorn hope, your eminence ?" repeated Maxi- 
 milian, in the tone of interrogatory, and with no small 
 symptoms of astonishment. 
 
 " Such were my words, young man," answered Marti- 
 nuzzi ; " and 'tis one of the signs of the times," he con- 
 tinued, "not the least portentous, that thy borrowed 
 feathers have not, ere yet, been plucked, and thy reflected 
 light extinguished. Did this devoted land, or your 
 uncle's government, promise aught of durable, you may 
 rest assured, that Hungary, however fallen, lacks neither 
 heart, nor arm, sinew, nor will, to put a date to your 
 pretensions. Whoso scattereth the seeds of hatred, and 
 suspicion, in his path, must look to reap a bloody har- 
 vest." 
 
 " Nathless, my lord, I may outlive the wound, and, 
 perhaps, the assassin," observed Maximilian ; " and who
 
 200 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 should be the slabbers, that should do the deed you 
 threaten ?" he added, with an assumption of hauteur, 
 and in an affected, and arrogant voice. 
 
 " Patriots, sir," answered the cardinal, in a deep, 
 stern voice ; " and, however you may flatter yourself," 
 he presently subjoined, "there are, in Hermanstadt, who 
 merit that title, ay, many, who would plunge their dag- 
 gers, through your slashed jerkin, did they see cause." 
 
 '' I should be glad to look upon such," returned Maxi- 
 milian, with emphasis; bearing himself, at the same time, 
 in a manner, not altogether unbecoming his high lineage; 
 " can your eminence instruct me how, and where, I may 
 most probably fall in with the butchers, you boast of?" 
 
 "They abound, just now, about the palace, nephew, 
 and in the vicinity of the court," answered Martinuzzi, 
 evasively. 
 
 " Would you describe only one, my lord," said Maxi- 
 milian, drawing himself up, into an attitude of defiance, 
 *' I would save him, from fulfilling your kind augury, if 
 his doublet be passable to sword, or pistol. Name but 
 one, your eminence." 
 
 "The lord regent of Hungary," replied the prelate, 
 sternly, "did he believe you worthy of his wrath ; but 
 ?ie knows you, sir, and you have leave to ruffle it, for 
 him." 
 
 Maximilian bit his lips, and, fixing his eyes on the 
 ground, was silent. 
 
 " Maximilian," resumed the cardinal, " tell me what 
 fools, and blows you up, like bubbles, thus ? Have I 
 toiled, for years, to build myself a name, for you to pluck 
 up the foundations ? Understand, my lord, you have nei- 
 ther weight of character, nor competent talent, nor one 
 distinguishing requisite, that I know of, to constitute you 
 the fitting minister of any body of men, even in holyday 
 times, leave alone, in such an angry, and disjointed era, 
 as that, we are doomed to jostle in ; you can put forth no 
 merits of your own, none personal, or proper to yourself;
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 201 
 
 your solitary hope of making way with the Magyar Or- 
 sag, must be derived from the name, you unworthily bear, 
 but which, in fact, only recals to men's minds, the great 
 deeds of your ancestors, as witnesses of your degene- 
 racy. * As it is, your influence will expire, when I abdi- 
 cate my office, and that may occur sooner, than, possibly, 
 you look for." 
 
 ''You do not mean it, your eminence," exclaimed 
 Maximilian; ''you can never intend to quail your high 
 honours, to the violent, and vindictive policy of Isabella. 
 Oh ! you will never condescend to hold your life, as 
 tenant at will, from her. Have you not long had letters 
 missive from his holiness, bearing the grant or donation 
 of Transylvania, as an appanage of your rank? And will 
 you forego such a splendid acquisition ?" 
 
 " And were I to accept the sceptre," replied the car- 
 dinal, " I have yet to discover, how the circumstance 
 would operate to your advantage. I own to you, that, 
 formerly, I indulged the hope, that the son of Peter 
 Pereny, by an uniform, persevering course, in arts and 
 arms, might have deserved well of his country, and even, 
 perhaps, at one time or another, have found favour, in the 
 sight of the Lady Czerina." 
 
 " My lord, such may yet be the case," said Maximi- 
 lian. 
 
 " Never," replied the cardinal. " 1 repeat, there was 
 a period, when I held such an opinion ; but I must in- 
 form you, 'tis now many years since." 
 
 Maximilian would again have interposed, but the car- 
 dinal, without breaking off, with solemn earnestness pro- 
 ceeded ; "You lay claim to an interest in my blood, Maxi- 
 milian, and, from your earliest childhood, I have done all 
 in my power to advantage your prospects, whether of this 
 brief, phantasmal scene, or those, which centre in the 
 
 * " Les grandes actions de leur peres ne sont plus que des temoins 
 que deposent centre eux." — Massillon. 
 
 k5
 
 202 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 brighter realities of eternity. For this, I require no 
 thanks ; I am accountable to Heaven for the trust, which 
 your father left in my hands. Besides myself, Maximi- 
 lian, you have scarcely a relative upon earth; certainly, 
 not oncj whose recognition would greatly delight, or 
 credit you. I have been your only, but, hitherto, your 
 powerful, and steady protector. I owe it to the memory 
 of my sister, ever, whilst my name can serve you, to lend 
 you all its lustre, to let you trim your feeble lamp, at the 
 bright flame of my glory. Of three children, two bro- 
 thers and a sister, your parent was, by far, the most 
 estimable ; but, alas ! sh-e soon sought the home of her 
 nativity. The goodness of God, in still blessing my poor 
 abilities, has since exalted me to my present distinguished 
 rank in tlie state. Wherefore, think you, do I advert to 
 these things? In order to put it to you, seriously, whe- 
 ther, in the absence of all intrinsic desert, you can trust 
 to cabal, or party, to invest you with real, and lasting 
 dignity? Why should you launch into the ocean of pub- 
 lic life, without rudder or compass, and, above all, why 
 alarm the national pride, by the impolitic and premature 
 avowal of a design, which, it is my prayer to Heaven, 
 that stubborn necessity may frustrate. Pereny, other 
 Hungarians may have pointed out the Huniades and the 
 Stradiote for their example ; but, as your greatest glory is 
 your father's name, so does the moral of his life furnish 
 your best instruction.* It might warn you, that incom- 
 petent ambition is one of the most pitiable species of self- 
 deception, bearing, in its very principle, the germs of its 
 own exposure, and defeat. Let me advise you to mode- 
 rate your desires, to the level of your mediocrity of talent. 
 Panoply thee, with all my heart, Maximilian, in the war- 
 rior's garb ; let thy body groan under iron harness, and 
 
 * " Aliis Decii reducesque Camilli 
 
 IMonstrentur ; tu disce patrem." Statics.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 203 
 
 teach your lance, in the vanward of the battle, to pioneei 
 your way to greatness. Would you ascend the steep o. 
 fame, you will have to struggle into eminence ; to fight 
 your way, step by step, and every inch of your ground you 
 must contest, and, again and again, by cheerful submis- 
 sion to toil, and amid the laborious details of discipline, 
 vindicate your right, to blend your name with your sire's, 
 and country's. Purple your hands deep, in the blood of 
 Austria, and your uncle will be the first, to applaud their 
 ensanguined hue; but not your raiment, Maximilian, not 
 your raiment ; and hereafter, thou wouldst do wisely, to 
 place a shroud, before that solitary colour of a king, which 
 sits on thee, like death."* 
 
 " Death, uncle!" echoed Maximilian. 
 
 " Death, sir, to which 'twill lead you," replied the 
 regent ; " you have no title on earth, to arrogate to your- 
 self the insignia of empire. Your father might not, in 
 his proudest days ; how then should you ?" 
 
 Maximilian's displeasure was pourtrayed on his coun- 
 tenance ; he, however, kept silence ; but shortly after- 
 wards, as if the thought had suddenly struck him, he 
 said, with an inquiring look, " You mentioned, even 
 now, another brother of my mother — is he living?" 
 
 The cardinal knit his brows, but remained silent. 
 
 Maximilian felt his curiosity excited, and, after a pause, 
 he ventured to repeat the inquiry : " If," said he, " I 
 have an uncle, besides your eminence, in existence, what 
 is he ?" 
 
 "A villain!" answered Martinuzzi, in a voice of 
 thunder. '' A most consummate villain !" In utterino 
 
 o 
 
 these words, a flush passed over his brow ; but, almost 
 directly, he subjoined, in a milder tone, as if feeling 
 ashamed, at having expressed himself, with such unwonted 
 warmth — " One, Maximilian, who may yet — who may yet, 
 
 * 'E\Xa/3c TTOpcpvpeoQ Oavarog, — Homer, II. v. 83,
 
 204 MAXUSCRIFTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 by the grace of Heaven, live to repent liis manifold ini- 
 quities. It is my daily prayer. Speak not of him." 
 
 To the mandate conveyed, in these last words, the cu- 
 riosity of Pereny rendered Jjiim loath to submit ; but he 
 forbore to answer, and the regent, after casting his eye 
 over the paper, he still held in his hand, said, '' An affair 
 of moment now calls me away ; treasure up what I have 
 spoken, and endeavour, for the future, ' so to order your 
 conduct, as neither to abuse, nor waste the glory, left you 
 by your ancestors.' * I tell thee, the sure, slow-wheel- 
 ing hours, which time the evolution of ages, even now 
 let loose the fate of Hungary, and her regent. Yet a lit- 
 tle while, and both may subsist only in memory. Champ 
 upon this bit, Maximilian, and act accordingly." In 
 saying these words, the cardinal went forth, leaving his 
 nephew standing, with vacant aspect, gazing, in the di- 
 rection, which that personage had taken, and, apparently, 
 hearkening to his receding footsteps, long after the sound 
 could have possibly reached his ears. Then, rousing him- 
 
 * See the dialogue of Plato, entitled Menexenus.— Antiquit)? cannot 
 furnish a more admirable piece of oratory than that (placed in the mouth 
 of Aspasia the Milesian) from whence the sentence, quoted above, is 
 dishonoured into English. It was repeated every year, on the anniversary 
 of Marathon, and preferred, by the Athenians, to tlie orations composed 
 on the same subject, by their greatest orators, Pericles, Lysias, Hyperides, 
 and Demosthenes. Whatever Anaximenes may pretend, and Plutarch 
 repeat after him, of their originating with Solon, this is the first occa- 
 sion of funeral eulogiums occurring among the Greeks. With the Ro- 
 mans, the custom was already established. The oration ascribed to Pe- 
 ricles in the historian is, in all probability, a characteristic sketch of 
 Thucydides, whose speeches, however appropriate, are not given with the 
 accuracy of a Times reporter. That of Lysias we have not read. The 
 other two have fallen a sacrifice to the edax vetustas, which Shirley 
 calls, " the cruel teeth of Time." We the less scruple, putting the ideas 
 of Plato, into the mouth of Martinuzzi^ because the eloquence of the pre- 
 late, by a sort of 7rei9avayict], — an equal exertion of force and persuasion, 
 -—was commonly irresistible, and in his cradle (as was said of the Greek 
 phdosopher) a swarm of bees seemed to gather round his lips.
 
 Manuscript v 
 
 205 
 
 self, he settled his saki* with its sweeping plume, to the 
 becoming angle, on his forehead, and shaking the lofty 
 feather, by the haughty movement of his head, sallied 
 forth, somewhat precipitately, in quest of those, who 
 might afford him their counsel, in this emergency. 
 
 The understanding of Maximilian Pereny, was of that 
 ordinary calibre, which corresponded not ill with his 
 personal appearance. He possessed considerable pride, 
 but little dignity ; and, ascribing the continued favour of 
 Martinuzzi entirely to his distinguished deserts, neither 
 the invariable indulgence, nor the occasional correction, 
 of his uncle, was capable of making any lasting impres- 
 sion, on such a temper. The repeated admonitions, and 
 the gentleness, of the regent, alike failed to bridle the 
 haughty, insolent, and overbearing spirit of the youth. 
 The care taken for so many years, in appointing proper 
 persons, to superintend his conduct, could not detach 
 him, from the dissipation of amusement, or the allure- 
 ments of the lowest sensuality. He was addicted to in- 
 ebriety, and that to a degree, which exceeded the ordi- 
 nary endurance of that age, and was far from consonant 
 to contemporary habits. He would often indulge in the 
 most shameless abandonment of passion, which gave um- 
 brage to thinking men ; and the coarseness of his de- 
 baucheries, even the extreme license of youth might 
 hardly serve to palliate. Thus, devoted to all the levities, 
 and prone to many of the vices of his age, and country, 
 that iMaximilian should become the dupe of his own 
 headlong propensities, and overweening vanity, was the 
 natural sequence. The lord of a powerful domain, 
 he felt himself called upon, to take a prominent 
 part, in the affairs of Hungary, at that important 
 crisis. He aspired to grasp the falling mantle of the 
 prophet, and eagerly looked forward to the day, when 
 his uncle would think fit, to slacken his hold on power, 
 
 * A French military cap.
 
 206 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 and relinquish, into his hands, his delegated authority. 
 But, to his chagrin, Martinuzzi did not appear, by any 
 means, in a hurry, to cut out of the game ; although, that he 
 purposed, sooner or later, to retire into a private station, 
 and substitute his nephew to the fatigues, and glory of 
 office, was what his hopeful kinsman never suffered him- 
 self to doubt. 
 
 It is at all times difficult, and usually impossible, to 
 conceive the actuating motives, if, indeed, there be any 
 such, which influence a trifling, and irregular mind ; the 
 *' true no meaning" of the poet cannot readily be com- 
 passed, and we find ourselves afloat, on a sea of conjec- 
 ture, and all to no purpose. If it were not for this cause 
 of hesitancy, we might, perhaps, and with some colour of 
 reason, pronounce the ruling passion of Pereny, at this 
 period, to have been ambition, although (as had been the 
 case with his father) his hopes of success were so appa- 
 rently founded on inordinate vanity, that never was the 
 celebrated sentiment of the lyric poet, more applicable.* 
 Still, if we may not form any satisfactory conjecture re- 
 specting the grounds of his confidence, we conclude, 
 witli great probability, that, viewing his merits, in the 
 glass of self-love and flattery, Maximilian vainly im^agined 
 that, like another Atlas, his shoulders could sustain the 
 poles of empire. 
 
 He, who knew not how to rule his own rebellious na- 
 ture, was eager to make himself accountable to his coun- 
 try, and to posterity, for the happiness of millions. So 
 reaching is the appetite of the human mind, however 
 eunuch, and ungenerative its capacity ! This high opinion 
 of his personal merit, which the arrogant self-sufficiency 
 of Maximilian entertained, was assiduously cultivated and 
 encouraged by his immediate followers, who, seeing, in 
 their imagination, the crown of St. Stephen glitter on 
 the brow of their weak, and misguided patron, trusted, 
 
 * See Piadar; the 11th Nemean Ode, the 3rd Bpode.
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 207 
 
 one day or other, to find their own account, in his ad- 
 vancement, and distinction. They readily entered into 
 all his views, however absurd. Their oil-tongued syco- 
 phancy, ministered to every scheme, which his impetu- 
 ous temper was naturally set upon, and they watched, 
 and improved every occasion of insinuating- themselves 
 into his confidence, by accommodating their counsels 
 to his inclinations, and rendering themselves neces- 
 sary to the accomplishment of his wishes. It thus, un- 
 happily for Maximilian Pereny, came to pass, that he 
 could conceive no design, of however unprincipled, or 
 even criminal a description, which would not immediately 
 obtain furtherers and abetters, in those restless, and time- 
 serving characters, whom his lavish expenditure, and 
 perhaps his personal accomplishments, attached to him. 
 
 However, notwithstanding this general deference of 
 his adherents, there might be found one, or two, excep- 
 tions, and his most intimate associate, the Graf Bathori, 
 invariably consulted, what he deemed to be Maximilian's 
 true interests, even when (as was often the case) they ran 
 counter to his inclinations. He never concurred in any 
 scheme, or recommended any proceeding, which he did 
 not think would conduce to the reputation of Pereny. 
 He hoped, doubtless, to ingratiate himself with his pa- 
 tron, by his zeal for his honour ; and his advice might be 
 equally interested, with that of the rest: but it was more 
 judicious, and founded on what, he trusted, would promote 
 Maximilian's real service, and be for his eventual benefit. 
 
 That person did not exactly relish the tone, and temper 
 of his uncle's lecture; on whose departure, he repaired 
 to the court-yard of the castle, where he fell in with Ve- 
 ronica, who had just quitted her father's prison, for the 
 night. The gentle girl, who was too deeply absorbed, by 
 her proper sorrows, to afford any heed to passing objects, 
 was hurrying homewards, with her eyes fixed on the 
 rugged pave ; and while thridding the steep, and narrow 
 windings of the city, was so wholly engrossed with her
 
 208 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 own thoughts, as to be unaware, that a young cavalier, 
 splendidly attired, was close beside her; and had passed 
 and repassed her, more than once, during the last five 
 minutes, ever and anon staring broadly at her, and scru- 
 tinizing lier beautiful face, and figure, with marked in- 
 tensity of admiration. Accommodating his walk to hers, 
 the coxcomb in question, advanced, or slackened his pace, 
 according as hers was accelerated, or diminished. How 
 much longer his mute, but somewhat exaggerated, demon- 
 strations of regard, could have escaped the observation of 
 their fair object, cannot be told, since they were shortly 
 interrupted, by the abrupt exit of Veronica, from the 
 scene. Pereny, who, only the instant before, had rudely 
 gazed back, upon the pensive countenance of the uncon- 
 scious maiden, on again directing his eyes towards their 
 guide and cynosure, found, to his astonishment, she had 
 " melted, as breath into the wind." 
 
 There were now few passengers abroad, for the dusk of 
 twilight was fast deepening into darkness, and the shadows 
 of the projecting stories of the wooden buildings, fell 
 gloomily down one side of the street. " Whither can the 
 siren have vanished?" thought Maximilian, not a little 
 nettled at her disappearance; — "into that house, to the 
 right, I'll be sworn, but I'll unearth her, let her burrow 
 ever so cunningly." With this view, he would have in- 
 continently passed the threshold of the cottage, when a 
 gentle pressure on his shoulder, arrested his intention. 
 He turned to face the person, who had thus taken him 
 off his guard, whom he instantly recognized. 
 
 ''Ha, Bathori !" he exclaimed; "by the word of a 
 prince, you startled me; I have come abroad, on purpose 
 to speak with you." 
 
 " Your highness, then, on your way, seems to have 
 undergone the influence of a cold, and potent spell," re- 
 turned the other; " for, on that ground, have you grown 
 for the last five minutes, as if transfixed, by the wand of 
 some fell enchanter."
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 209 
 
 " Say an enchantress, and you will be nearer the 
 mark. — By G — d! Bathori, I've seen an angel." 
 
 " From heaven, my lord ?" 
 
 '* No;— better by half, delicious flesh and blood! as 
 lovely as Psyche, ere she wed, — as light, and full of 
 grace ; but not ether, man! — Not ether ! at least I think 
 so ; although, while one might truss a point,* she was 
 off; and, by my uncle's cap! she evanesced, in a very 
 ethereal sort of fashion : like a flitting shadow, or a 
 soft creation of beautiful breath. Bathori ! Bathori \" he 
 continued, laying his hand impressively, on the arm of 
 the baron ; " were it to cost me half my heritage, as sure 
 as there are seven sacraments, I will possess this girl, ere 
 her maidenhood be riper, by another sunset." 
 
 " Your highness, I apprehend, will have to double 
 your bidding, and, perhaps, not, after all, attain your 
 gratification," replied, the other, 
 
 *' Ha ! what mean you?" said Maximilian. 
 
 Bathori hesitated, in his endeavour to select such 
 words, as might intimate his sentiments, yet save him 
 from giving offence. " I wish, without hurting your 
 feelings," he said, " I knew how to bring your highness, 
 to a sense of what is expected of the man, who aspires to 
 reign in Hungary." 
 
 " Speak out, in the fiend's name," answered Pereny, 
 " only be brief." 
 
 " My words may sound harsh," continued Bathori, 
 with great gravity ; " but physicians affirm, the more nau- 
 seous the drug to the mouth, the more likely is there to 
 be healing in it." 
 
 " Zounds! my lord," interrupted Maximilian, " I have 
 swallowed, within this hour, as bitter a potion, as thy 
 skill ever compounded." 
 
 * " One might truss a point," i. e. tie the strings that support the hose 
 or breeches.
 
 210 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 " I am sorry, it lias not proved more efficacious," re- 
 joined the other, with a smile : " prithee, who was your 
 mediciner ?" 
 
 ^' Even our sapient uncle," answered Maximilian. 
 "And the prescription ?" 
 
 *' To be on my good behaviour, at the peril of his 
 favour." 
 
 " Did his eminence deliver himself in anger?" 
 " I never saw him excited to such a pitch of vehe- 
 mence before," observed Maximilian; "and, what was 
 worse, he tipped me a touch of the heroic, and tore 
 my new purple manto, — that, you know, which was fa- 
 shioned after a device of the dauphin's,— into so many 
 fragments, that not all the milliners in Paris, could sew 
 the shreds together." 
 
 " Oh, my lord ! " said Bathori, with much earnestness, 
 " your uncle, in his heart, has no contempt for such an 
 emblem ; but he deemed it false, and wrong, to stir the 
 injured sense of Erdely, to fear and jealousy, by pouring 
 painful beams into men's sight, which thou shouldst 
 rather persuade to sleep, by thy humble bearing. Mar- 
 tinuzzi must have been much incensed." 
 
 " I am not sure of that," returned Maximilian ; " but 
 rather think, some state matters ruffled his temper. By 
 heavens I he hinted, at abdicating his authority, and 
 talked so darkly, about the mutability of human gran- 
 deur, and all that sort of thing, that, may I perish ! if I 
 know, what to augur from it." 
 
 " Why, that you will never reign in Erdely," said the 
 baron, " if you wager, with wild rashness, your reversion, 
 for the precarious smiles of woman." He paused, and 
 then continued, in a lower, but more earnest tone, than 
 before: "Again, my prince, beware of pleasure! The 
 drained goblet is a charmed mirror, like to a crystal case- 
 ment 'fore the heart, through which each eye may look, 
 except the drinker; — and for the many glancing beams
 
 MANUSCRIPT V. 211 
 
 of maidens' looks, — ah, your highness ! there may live se- 
 veral fair, like the Lady Czerina, but unto such, thou 
 must be blinder than the Cyclop, if you would not have 
 the world to roll away beneath thy feet. She who is 
 queen, in no respect may brook a rival, par amours; 
 and, if you give her one, my lord, 'tis at the imminent 
 peril of that sacred crown, you will, otherwise, one day 
 share." 
 
 " But her grace shall never learn," began Maximilian, 
 when the other again took up the word. 
 
 ''Ha! your highness, — split not upon that rock; 
 princes, the copies of Divinity, aspire to many of his at- 
 tributes ; amongst others they aim at omnipresence, and 
 they often attain their object, more nearly, than men 
 dream of. Never doubt me, my lord, but your motions 
 are narrowly watched." 
 
 '' By Czerina, surely?" 
 
 " By her mother, your highness." 
 
 " Oil, d — n her mother ! " exclaimed Maximilian, with 
 considerable emphasis. 
 
 "With all my heart, my lord," responded his companion, 
 in a lower key, and making a hasty sign to repress the 
 other's vehemence ; " only curse within your compass; 
 do you not see, that a man, within this minute, has 
 issued from yonder hut," and Bathori pointed to one, 
 that stood a little apart from the general cluster : "if 
 I mistake not, he yet lurks within the dark shadow of 
 that thatched piatza." 
 
 "Thence, Bathori? By my uncle's hat ! 'tis the very 
 shed, through which, if I mistake not, my divinity disap- 
 peared, just as you joined me ! " 
 
 "Through that entrance, say you?" demanded the 
 Graf. 
 
 " Ay, under the sloping roof to the left," returned 
 Maximilian. 
 
 "Then I can tell you all about your charmer."
 
 212 
 
 MA^^USCRIPTS OF Ell D ELY. 
 
 '* Thou, Bathori ! Is the kurva a dickey-bird of 
 thine?" 
 
 " Not so, my lord. But, if the maiden be, whom I sus- 
 pect, she is, indeed, an incomparable creature ;" and, in 
 a whispering- voice, the graf very briefly unfolded, to his 
 attentive auditor, the particulars of the arrest of the 
 overnight: "But ha!" he concluded, "I had forgot, 
 beyond a question, that man has not emerged from the 
 front of Hubert's cottage." 
 
 " Now, by the temper of my sword, " exclaimed 
 Maximilian, " be he who he may, I will speak to 
 him." 
 
 " Nay, be advised, my prince, and let's pass on." 
 
 '^ Baron, in this I'll consider nothing, but my plea- 
 sure !" then, turning on the baron, with lighted eye, and 
 boding brow, he cried; " Be so complying, as to loose 
 thy hold on my ruffle; 'tis adjusted jpoint-de-vice, and 
 must not be deranged ; give me way, or, by the Lord of 
 heaven, it shall be worse for you ! " and Maximilian laid 
 hand on his sword's hilt. 
 
 "If your highness would but hearken," said the baron, 
 releasing his hold, " only" — 
 
 The other, on finding himself free, sprung impetu- 
 ously forward. The last faint words of Bathori, either 
 never reached his ear, or failed in changing his pur- 
 pose. 
 
 " Only," proceeded the baron, subduing the tones of 
 his voice, and concluding the sentence differently, from 
 what its commencement promised ; " thou art the most 
 incorrigible ass, that ever pretended to a crown ! I have 
 half a mind to leave thee to thy headlong impulses, and 
 would, but that thy success is indispensable to my own 
 mounting. My foot is yet on the lowest round of that 
 ladder, which thou dost shape and plant, wherewith to 
 scale the top of hilly empire; its base is thy rash, and 
 ill-grounded ambition, — its capital, like the dream of the
 
 MAKL- SCRIPT V. 213 
 
 patriarch, is lost in cloud and vapour. I cannot see so 
 far, but, methinks, already the golden circle of empire 
 clips my parched brow, — down ! down ! my swelling- 
 thoughts. Why, oh ! why does my teeming heart bound 
 and rebound, as if to burst its feeble tenement? Why, 
 ever, at the twilight hour, do I thrill to sensations, in- 
 tense, in proportion to the deep mystery of their source ? 
 Ambition is the heavenward vice of noble natures : by 
 that fell Satan. Wherefore, then, should my bosom repu- 
 diate so wild, and divine a sin. Ha ! but let me be sure 
 of my footing, ere I trust myself on the slippery, and un- 
 sure tracks, I am about to tread. — Ambition ! 'tis to 
 venture on a sea of melting ice ! all around crackles at 
 her step : yawning and frequent crannies intervene. She 
 dare not, — she must not retreat; — afar, is situate the 
 perilous and undiscovered shore, — beneath, rolls the deep 
 abyss of waters, lying in wait for its prey ; yet, methinks," 
 he added, " with caution and courage for attendants, 
 she may cross the gulf. The favourite of the Kiral ! — * 
 that sounds well, but, — ha! perchance the word it- 
 self." 
 
 Bathori had suffered the current of his ardent reflec- 
 tions, to carry him thus far, beyond the confines of time 
 and space, when his wild dreams were suddenly dispelled, 
 by the sound of voices, high in argument, immediately 
 succeeded, by the clashing of weapons, at no great dis- 
 tance. He hastened to the spot, whither INIaximilian 
 had preceded him, with the purpose of addressing the 
 individual, whose form lay undistinguishable, in the deep- 
 ening shades of evening. The broad shield of day had 
 now, for some time, sunk down, behind a little ridge, or 
 stony belt, which girded the fortification of Hermanstadt, 
 to the west ; and, although the horizon was illumined in 
 her advent, the moon had not yet arisen, and the few eyes 
 of heaven, overhead, twinkled faintly forth, as only half 
 
 * Kiral; King.
 
 214 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 awake. Thus all objects, more especially, where shadowed, 
 by the projecting fronts of the houses, were wrapped in 
 obscurity, and doubt. 
 
 It was owing to this cause, that the baron had 
 reached the lofty wall, already mentioned, without 
 being made aware, till he came up, that the conflict 
 had found a natural, and speedy close, in the discom- 
 fiture of one of the combatants. On his arrival at the 
 spot, he perceived Maximilian Pereny, stretched upon 
 the earth, bleeding, and senseless ; his broken weapon 
 lay at his side, but his conqueror, whoever he might be, 
 had fled.
 
 MANUSCRIPT vr. 215 
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 
 
 Hie vir — hie esttibi quern proraitti saepius audis." 
 
 ViRG. 
 
 Isabella, the Queen Regent of Hungary, was in the 
 prime, and full blaze of womanhood, at the period when 
 our present history dates its commencement. Whilst only 
 a child, in respect to her knowledge of the usages of the 
 world, at the command of her father, and not by the 
 dictates of young affection, she had been joined in wed- 
 lock to John Sepusius of Zapola. Whatever sanguine 
 hopes were entertained of this alliance, rested solely, on 
 the frail, and crumbling basis of political expediency. 
 Difficulties, however, shortly intervened, and the measure 
 proved, in its consummation, and results, wearisome, and 
 disastrous. John was considerably her senior in years, 
 and was far from being possessed of that person, or of 
 those features, most readily adapted to seduce, and rivet 
 the affections, or command the respect, of woman. There 
 was none of that voluptuous abandonment in his charac- 
 ter, which the sex is prompt to love, nor of that felicitous 
 daring, which they are wont to admire. The husband of 
 the beautiful daughter ofSigismund, wasjust such a man, 
 as is calculated to wear a girl's heart out, whilst the seat 
 of life and passion throbbed, by night and by day, in the 
 fruitless endeavour to make itself love, and be beloved.
 
 216 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Yet, it even was to him, that the warm, and noble Isabella 
 plighted her faith at the altar, vowing to honour and 
 obey one, whom she had met, for the first time in her life, 
 only the day preceding, and respecting whose disposition, 
 and claims on her affection, she could know little, or 
 nothing. Ignorant of the world, and unacquainted with 
 the capacity, and boundless sympathies of her own heart, 
 its aptitude for the soft endearments of reciprocal attach- 
 ment, she had fettered the pure, and virgin charities of her 
 nature, ere she knew the value of the sacrifice. For 
 awhile, the child remained unconscious of the extent, and 
 character of her new obligations ; but, alas ! the woman 
 could not be so blinded. As the excitation of novelty, 
 and change ceased to operate, and her faculties expanded 
 to a sense of the relative duties, which belonged to the 
 married state, her passions and her understanding were 
 reciprocally developed ; the film cleared from her mental 
 vision, and she awoke, from her sleep of apathy, to the 
 stern reality of her position. The painted veil of life was 
 rent asunder. The bright gilding, with which her inex- 
 perience had disguised the nature of her shackles, from 
 her view, wore away, and the iron entered her soul. She, 
 who was formed to be the solace, and delight, the com- 
 panion, lover, friend, of some gentle being, as warm, and 
 susceptible, as the embodied creations of her fervid fancy, 
 had been immolated, at the altar of state necessity, and 
 sacrificed to the selfish views of the feudal aristocracy of 
 Hungary. She, who was surely meant, to anchor her 
 earthly hopes, in the bosom of fond confiding love, — to be 
 heart-bare to the man of her choice, and plighted troth, 
 found herself abruptly translated, from the arms of lier 
 mother, to the frigid atmosphere of Bud a, to be mated 
 with one, contemporary with her sire, and who, if not quite 
 so graceful, seemed to the dispirited, and disappointed 
 princess, as polished, and as cold, as the unbreathing 
 marble, wrought to rival the human form. As month, 
 after month, rolled on, and Isabella became gradually
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 217 
 
 inured to her purposeless existence, she learnt, indeed, to 
 wear her bonds "with dignity, but not with patience. 
 The spring-dew of her heart was dried up at its source. 
 The sweet, and glowing aspirations of childhood visited 
 her no more ; the delicious freshness of her emotions no 
 longer threw its magic, on the colouring of the minute, or 
 lent an enchantment to the brilliant to-morrow of her 
 destiny. She had tried that to-morrow, and proved its 
 worthlessness. It brought to her no kindred bosom, on 
 which to repose, and pour herself, — no fond, and speaking 
 eye, with which, to interchange the glances of inexpressi- 
 ble affection, — no confiding ear, in which to unburthen 
 the tale of her indurated feelings, and blighted hopes. In 
 the whole universe she had none to spoil her; and what 
 were this bleak world worth, she thought, deprived of the 
 occasional visitation of love, and sympathy ? In the elo- 
 quent words of Shelley — 
 
 " To tread life's dismaying wilderness. 
 
 Without one smile to cheer, one voice to bless, 
 Amid the snares and scoffs of human kind, 
 Is hard." 
 
 Alas! the waywardness of the female heart! "Despite 
 her duty," on the throne of her husband, Isabella yearned 
 after the haunts, and dreams of her maidenhood. In her 
 chaste married bed, she had to suppress the sigh, that 
 struggled for utterance, and dry the scalding tear-drop 
 on her eyelid, and, harder still, to blush, in the darkness of 
 the night, at the commotion of her senses, of which a sigh, 
 and a tear were not the sole interpreters. 
 
 It is not to be inferred, that the king regarded his 
 charming wife, with any sentiments allied to aversion, or 
 that he was insensible to the delicate endearments of con- 
 jugal society. This supposition is confuted, by the evi- 
 dence of history. It is likely, he loved Isabella, as sincere- 
 ly, as it was in his nature to afiect any human being ; but 
 he was constitutionally frigid, and indifferent, and was, 
 mereover, deficient in that particular, in default of which, 
 
 L
 
 218 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 a man, however valuable liis other qualities, seldom 
 makes much impression, on the vacant tenderness of the 
 female heart. He wanted soul, — sensibility, — that vital 
 principle, which gives a zest to the soft communion of the 
 sexes, without whose aid, gallantry is degraded to an idle, 
 and unmeaning pastime, and the hackneyed routine of 
 conjugal life, becomes flat and unfruitful, as the sea-sand. 
 It was this deficiency in King John, that caused, in 
 Isabella, that languishment of the spirit, that besoin 
 (V amour, which stole over her, at intervals, even in the arms 
 of her royal consort. She inferred, from the very depths 
 of her aching sense, she was capable of loving, but did 
 not love; she felt, she had been created to bless, and 
 be blessed in requital; but "it was oh! in her heart," 
 that no blessing waited on her footsteps, — that no 
 cherished thought of her's found a responsive echo, in 
 another's remembrance, — that no approving eye beamed 
 with more vivid satisfaction, at her approach, or became 
 suffused with melancholy, in her absence. She was too 
 great to court affection. Seated on her eirie aloft, she 
 envied the linnet, who might freely nestle, and pair, at 
 the foot of the precipice. She was solitary, unsolaced, 
 joyless, unlinked — for what availed the joining of hands, 
 if there ensued no intellectual connection, — no interchange 
 of the heart? Alas! she felt, (and how truly !) that it 
 was not home, without sympathy, without indulgence. 
 
 Just let loose, from the trammels, and fond cherishing 
 of her childhood, she was like a bark, forced from shore, 
 and cast, without steerage or compass, upon the wild of 
 dreary waves, that swell the flood of time, with no haven 
 in view, that she deemed worthy an effort ; and incom- 
 petent, of herself, to weather each reef, and shoal, that 
 momentarily object their peril, in the cheerless navigation 
 of life. She had given her person to the monarch, but 
 not her affections to the man ; her heart would not blush 
 into love, and joy, at her father's bidding; she might 
 not,— she could not bestow it, where she felt it was legally
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 219 
 
 due. But, alas ! that heart — that site of her latent ten- 
 derness, and frailty — which even now panted for liberty, 
 was not destined always to remain, the restless inmate of 
 its mistress' bosom : the hour is at hand, when the dreamy 
 vagueness of her wishes (" that craving void left aching 
 at the breast,") which hath troubled her so long, without 
 assuming any defined, or palpable shape, will converge its 
 whole strength, and concentrate all the deep mystery of 
 its source, into one burning focus of desire, and passion. 
 But the hidden springs of affection were, as yet, un- 
 touched ; and meanwhile, the mind of Isabella, required 
 some relaxation, from those unavailing suggestions of the 
 imagination, that sprung up within her, like weeds on a 
 neglected tomb. She was not sorry to be awakened, 
 from the delicious day-dreams, which besieged her on the 
 throne, crept in upon her banquets, and violated the leisure 
 of her solitude, without her having the power, or perhaps 
 always the inclination, " to call back her self-control." 
 Yes, she would rouse herself, and shake ofFher, like *' dew 
 from the lion's mane," the voluptuous languor, which ener- 
 vated her spirits, for want of the healthful stimulus, which 
 reciprocal, and gratified love should have supplied. This 
 disenchantment, she sought, by mingling in the rush, and 
 hurry of political intrigue, and by endeavouring to take an 
 interest, in the administration of affairs of state. 
 
 Herein she partially succeeded ; and none, in the pre- 
 dominating spirit of the Queen of Hungary, might dis- 
 cern the weakness of the woman, or penetrate the warm, 
 and wanton feelings, that lay locked up within her. — 
 " Femina de sexu mollis, sed corde virili.'"^' But in 
 thus disengaging herself, from the entanglements of a 
 too susceptible imagination, by calling into play, the 
 powers of a vigorous understanding, Isabella grew cal- 
 lous, and unfeeling. The bitter consciousness of her own 
 worn sensations, superinduced an indifference to the 
 
 * Character of Queen Isabella, in Ruinae Pannonicas. 
 L 2
 
 220 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 misfortunes of her fellow-creatures. She owned a malig- 
 nant pleasure, in wreaking- upon others, tlie accumulated 
 gall, which years of hackneyed splendour, and inward 
 agony, had generated. She first welcomed the toils of 
 ambition, in order to escape the meshes, with which her 
 spirit had previously struggled ; but, the exchange petri- 
 fied, or erased every blessed, and gentler feeling, instead 
 of meliorating her principles of action. Her sensibility, 
 which could not subside into indifference, hardened into 
 the Oripinv * of despotism. 
 
 The open and amiable girl, of a few years since, be- 
 came gradually transformed, by the force of circum- 
 stances, and by the strong, though invisible influence of 
 habit, into a violent, and inexorable being, — haughty in 
 command, inflexible to entreaty, and impenetrable in her 
 counsels. The fire of her ardent ungovernable tempera- 
 ment, flamed out in acts of authority, which bore down 
 all opposition. Yet, was Isabella gifted by nature, with 
 talents for command, of the very first order. Resolved 
 and uncompromising, if she owned little of the cool saga- 
 city, and comprehensive views, proper to the statesman; 
 she was assuredly possessed of a certain impracticability, 
 that knew not how to succumb, — a decision, that ad- 
 mitted of no temporising, or delay, — a tact, in anticipating 
 what were the projects of her opponents, — and an admir- 
 able wit, in devising the readiest mode to circumvent 
 them. 
 
 The impolitic division of the executive authority, in 
 consequence of the last testament of John, became, as 
 might have been predicted, the source of disunion be- 
 tween the parties. — " Two suns keep not their motion in 
 the same sphere." The jealousy of the supreme power, 
 was inflamed by the inevitable distinction of sex, and 
 the diversity, if not the opposition, of their characters; so 
 that their rivalship was exasperated, not only by mutual 
 
 * Aristot. ap Julian, p. 261.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 221 
 
 injuries, but, what was harder to be borne, by reciprocal 
 contempt. The cardinal despised Isabella, as a vain, and 
 opinionative woman, and was, in his turn, disdained by his 
 fair colleague, as a low-born, and hypocritical priest. — 
 Deux glaives ne pevvent Hre renfermes dans la meme 
 fourreau. — However, in the hour of difficulty, and danger, 
 Martinuzzi, gradually became lord of the ascendant. 
 
 Suffragia qulppe peregit 
 
 Judex vera timor. ^'ictus ratione salutis. 
 Ambitus, et pulsus tacuit formidine livor.* 
 
 But, alas ! the temporary nature of Martinuzzi's power; 
 the obligations, which it entailed upon him, were over- 
 looked, in a bequest of such magnitude; and the slight 
 tenure, by which he, at first, held his synarchy, was im- 
 perceptibly consolidated, into the abstract right, sequent 
 upon long established possession. It may, however, 
 silence the detractors, from the fame of Martinuzzi, would 
 they bear in mind, that the fabric of the state was shat- 
 tered, and disjointed ; and that it required the strong, and 
 skilful hand of a master, to hold together the bonds of 
 national unity, and concord. 
 
 But Isabella never forgave the injuries she was obliged 
 patiently to endure, at the hands of her colleague; and 
 her resentment, perhaps, became the more rancorous, and 
 inveterate, in proportion as experience taught her the 
 necessity of temporishig. — '* Manet alta mente reposfa 
 injuria.''^- — Perhaps, the enjoyment of present compe- 
 tence, is incompatible with the remembrance of past 
 splendour. Be that as it may; regal honours, a stately 
 palace, a numerous retinue, all, that, Martinuzzi hoped, 
 might alleviate the chagrin of Isabella, served to exas- 
 perate, rather than appease, her secret sentiments of 
 enmity. The restlessness of her ambition was thinly im- 
 masked, by a tender concern for the succession, and by the 
 
 ' Claudian. t Virgil.
 
 222 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 specious pretence, which the natural anxiety of maternal 
 fondness readily afforded, so that it was not, until after 
 a long, and protracted struggle, that the lord regent 
 wrenched the truncheon, from the fist of his royal col- 
 league, and came to rule by his sole, and undisputed will. 
 In fine, however, the defeat of her general, Valentinian 
 Turascus, left her nothing, but the inane nomen* of her 
 high office, whilst the master-mind of Martinuzzi, soon 
 after, centered in himself the entire authority, attached 
 to the title. He assumed the right of exercising, without 
 appeal, the whole legislative, as well as the executive 
 functions; he usurped, from Isabella, the privilege of 
 coining money, f and imposing taxes, — his was, moreover, 
 the jurisdiction of life and death, of foreign alliance, and 
 domestic economy. 
 
 Still, even after the uncontrolled, and independent 
 sovereignty of the state was extorted, by the grasping 
 talents of the cardinal, and the natural, and resistless 
 claims of merit, and of violence, had superseded the 
 accidental, and ideal prerogative of birth, Isabella con- 
 trived, by gathering around her in opposition, many of 
 the native, and turbulent nobility, to thwart the views, 
 and vex the councils of the cardinal; and, by this 
 means, to set bounds to the fulness of his power. 
 
 It thus unfortunately happened, that to all the other 
 calamities, under which the country laboured, were 
 joined the gall, and bitterness of court intrigues, and 
 civil dissention. Yet, as respected the silent collision, 
 C discordice facitcB") of the regents, the less that real 
 cordiality prevailed, the more were the exterior demon- 
 strations of amity exhibited. On such occasions, the 
 conventional decorums of high rank, are seldom violated, 
 nor were the formal offices of friendship, suflfered to fall 
 
 * Bcethius. 
 
 t On the coinage of Isabella, was this Inscription: — Si Deus nobiscum, 
 quls contia nos 1
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 2'23 
 
 into desuetude, in the instance, under review. Whatever 
 might be their mutual consciousness, both Isabella, and 
 Martinuzzi, took care to cover their feelings towards each 
 other, with the polished surface of reciprocal respect. Ne- 
 vertheless, from the smiling ostentation of their courtesy, 
 its rankling rottenness came to be understood, although, 
 it was not permitted to be revealed.* The clashing of 
 interests, and the divisions, and subdivisions of faction, 
 superinduced upon the supposed rivalship of the two 
 supreme rulers of Hungary, it were at once needless, and 
 tedious to dilate upon. They belong to a loftier avoca- 
 tion than ours, and have no direct bearing upon the 
 present tale. 
 
 We may content ourselves briefly to notice, that, in 
 spite of the providence of Martinuzzi, the distraction of 
 the times paralysed the arm of government. It should 
 seem, that conspiracy, and rebellion stalked abroad, 
 like a giant at noon-day, naked and unchallenged. 
 Either by the solitary ruffian, or by bands of lawless 
 depredators, the wdiole country was spoiled, and laid 
 waste. Those aggressions on the public tranquillity, 
 which, considering the tumultuous disposition, familiar to 
 the nation, might have been little regarded, seemed to 
 become more serious, by being viewed, in connexion with 
 the ill-compacted frame of government, consequent on 
 the rivalship of the regents. In this state of affairs, the 
 bonds of civil life were burst asunder, whilst those fierce 
 haggards, the malignant passions, let loose upon society, 
 were hallooed on to their quarry, and, under pretence of 
 vindicating the cause of freedom, rapine, defloration, and 
 murder, became the animating spirits of the scene. The 
 household charities were invaded, — the wholesome ties of 
 kindred were loosened and snapped, — the ordinary inter- 
 courses of humanity were interrupted, no one knowing in 
 whom to confide,— the days of vassalage were gone, — 
 
 * Discoidiae tacitae et quas iDtelligerentur potiusquam viderentur.
 
 224 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 the hereditary serf found himself enfranchised, without 
 an effort, and betrayed his lord to the vengeance of the 
 invader, — '* Corrupti dominos servi,"* and, (a circum- 
 stance, by the way, which tends to illustrate, still more 
 strongly, the factious spirit, and feverish excitement of 
 the public mind, incident to a minority. A clamour 
 was darkly propagated, which spared not even the 
 regent. The rumour went, that persons had been sub- 
 jected to the loss of liberty, and possibly of life, re- 
 specting whose practices, whether treasonable or inno- 
 cent, the lord cardinal could only have obtained cogni- 
 zance, through those emissaries, and spies, whom he 
 scrupled not to introduce, in the guise of ecclesiastics, 
 into the different monasteries, throughout Transylvania. 
 But Martinuzzi, by his zeal and piety, had acquired the 
 character of being a main pillar of the Catholic church, 
 and it is not easy to conceive, that he would forfeit that 
 high distinction, by permitting, for any secular ends, the 
 sacred seal of confession, to be violated. It was evident, 
 however, that he gained intelligence of all that passed 
 in the principality, with an apparent prescience, that 
 was inexplicable; but, whether it was merely a su- 
 perior system of espionage, which gifted him with his 
 colossal foreknowledge, is a question which cannot now 
 be satisfactorily answered, since history affords us no 
 clue, to unravel the mystery. At the time, however, 
 the public apprehensions were fortified, by the strong 
 suspicion, which the malignity of men's tongues failed 
 not to bruit abroad — that the confessor of Martinuzzi, 
 like a subservient fiend, had compelled the powers of 
 evil to work the will of himself, and his eminence, to the 
 utter discomfiture of their common enemies. It would 
 seem, however, incumbent on the historian, at this time 
 of day, to presume the innocence of Martinuzzi, in re- 
 gard to such a charge : the nice and secret springs of 
 
 * Tacitus.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 
 
 225 
 
 action, which impelled a high dignitary of the church, 
 and one, too, who, otherwise, was looked upon as an 
 amiable, and pious man, to retain so questionable a cha- 
 racter as Father Dominick, in so intimate a relation, 
 about his person, were involved in a cloud of suspicion, 
 and, since they might not be investigated, were peculiarly 
 obnoxious to the whispers of malevolence.* 
 
 In the meanwhile, the death-stroke of several mag- 
 nats, and independent chiefs, was accelerated by the axe 
 of the executioner, because, as was said, " their virtues 
 were incompatible with the rule of Martinuzzi." f — 
 " The Corinthian columns of society," were either 
 crumbled by the bolt, or scared by the flashes, of arbi- 
 trary power ; and the dungeons of the regent were 
 crowded with individuals, implicated in the late lawless 
 transactions. 
 
 It was one mornino;, durino; the time of terror, and 
 distrust, which we have commemorated in our last pages,. 
 that a cavalier, of mature years, clad in the knightly 
 vestments of the time, stood, for a brief space, before a 
 door of a small lodge, or turret, which flanked a stone 
 wall of great height, and considerable extent. He was 
 accompanied, or, perhaps, it were nearer the truth, to 
 say, attended, by a person, whose towering form, and 
 somewhat incongruous costume, doubtfully intimated 
 the lawless Olah, or roving chief of \yallachia. The 
 postern was opened, on a tap from the cavalier, and, 
 having passed within, the two found themselves in a sort 
 of park, or garden, seemingly private, beautifully ar- 
 ranged by art, and more beautifully broken by nature. 
 
 * The philosophic observation of Tacitus, on a similar occasion, was 
 happily applied by a satirist of the day, to Martinuzzi and iiis confessor. 
 " Sed, quia P. Duminicus facinorum, omnium repertor habebatur, ex 
 niraia caritate in eum, IMaitinusii, et ceterorum in utrumque odio, quam- 
 vis fabulosa et immania credebantur.'' 
 
 t '• Quem Caligula occidit, quod melior vir esset quam esse queraquam 
 tyranno expediret." Seneca, De Beneficiis. 
 
 L 5
 
 226 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 It was refreshed by fountains, and by the silver wind- 
 ings of the river Zibin. The grounds shot down upon 
 the translucent waters, where they widened themselves 
 into an extensive basin. This was skirted, by some gi- 
 gantic trees, which, however few, sufficed to over-canopy 
 a small, clear fountain, that threw up a crystal column, 
 to the height of many feet, from a large jet, in the midst. 
 
 As the cavaliers walked leisurely on, in the direction of 
 the river, the elder, and apparently the more impor- 
 tant of the twain, addressed his companion, in words to 
 the following effect : — 
 
 "The purpose, of which we have lately spoke, must 
 now be opened to a person, whose interest is most deeply 
 involved in our success. Let me, however, understand : 
 thou remainest confident in thy opinion, that if the op- 
 portunity were afforded thee, by the permissive negli- 
 gence of his followers, and officers, in the day of battle, 
 thou couldst, with the aid of some of thy stout warhawks, 
 by one bold swoop, bear off the person of this man, in 
 the hour of his triumph, whither, matters not, provided 
 that the magnats of Hungary, and Transylvania, be never 
 more overborne, by his tyranny." 
 
 " I will pledge myself, as deeply as thou pleasest to 
 that point," replied the other chieftain ; '' and for this 
 substantial reason, as I told you before, that, previously 
 to your having instructed me in your wishes herein, and 
 applied for my aid, to carry them into effect, it was my 
 intention to adopt, from motives proper to myself, some- 
 thing like the line of proceeding, your policy would chalk 
 out for me. But, my Lord Balassi, I must make free 
 to inquire, who is this third party, you speak of ? Were 
 our enterprise, or rather mine, — for I shall be the active 
 instrument, — a mere undertaking for your single benefit, 
 you might initiate all the world into the secret, for aught 
 that I should demur ; but, since 'tis an affair, in which I 
 consider myself the party, I do not say, most endangered, 
 for I know not the meaning of the word, but most in-
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 227 
 
 terested ; I do not choose to have the success of my 
 sanguine hopes^ which soar on steady wing, beyond the 
 utmost stretch of thy imagination, risked by any rash 
 confidence of thine. Tell me, then, at once, who is this 
 person ? or I go back as I came, and you may forget, 
 we ever discussed the subject." 
 
 "Content thee, friend," replied Balassi, "she is one, 
 who, whatever benefits may accrue to thee, and thy peo- 
 ple, by the holding this man in bondage, will find herself 
 a hundred-fold more advantaged. 'Tis true, there is a re- 
 ward, e'en now, advertised for thy head, which will be taken 
 off, — not thy head, man, but its price — so thou needest 
 not gloom so terribly ; but the personage to whom I 
 allude, is concerned herein, more than the paltry pre- 
 servation of life, and infinitely more than is compre- 
 hended in the mere gratification of a whole race of 
 Egyptian pilgrim^.. Every mmute of her existence is 
 held in a state of thraldom, and one pa'^g of her heart, 
 in this regard, outweighs incalculably, the pains of a 
 whole life of ordinary mortals. But why should I dis- 
 course to thee of such high matter, which exceedeth thy 
 understanding ?" 
 
 " Why should you, indeed, my lord ? I am not a man 
 to agitate my wits, with what is not directly conducive 
 to my proper good : ' Ne sutor ultra crepidam,' hath 
 ever been my rule." 
 
 " Well, friend," said Balassi, " your Cygani, or Wal- 
 lachian Patois, which ever it be, is not now the thing 
 needed ; the lady, to whom I shall presently introduce 
 you — " 
 
 " A lady, forsooth!" interrupted the other; "a most 
 rare depositary for a secret ! But since it happens, I can 
 give a guess, who is that lady." And he cast around a 
 cursory, but significant look, on the highly-decorated 
 grounds, they were slowly measuring. " I will not start 
 any objection on that score." 
 
 *' 'Twere as well you do not," replied Balassi, haugh-
 
 228 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 tily ; " but to return to what we were saying. Have you 
 these cletermhied set of heroes, you boasted of erewhiles, 
 planted on the spot, ready to act ?" 
 
 " Unquestionably, have I," answered the other. ''They 
 crouch, as little dreamt of, near Coloswar, as any troop of 
 wolves, under their coverlet of snow, what time their scent 
 is up, and appetence keen, and the sun goes down on 
 the human spoil, with which Carnage hath sated his bro- 
 ther Death, and they rouse them, from their long slum- 
 ber, to discuss their prepared quarry." 
 
 " Yes," said Balassi, musing; " Coloswar is likely to 
 be the point of attack, and, if I err not, the neighbour- 
 hood of that city must become the arena of a bloody 
 struggle, one of these days. Towards the gates, the im- 
 perial force directs its march, doubtless allured by the 
 regalia of Hungary, which is deposited within the for- 
 tress, and there will Martinuzzi be compelled to contest 
 that sovereignty, which he would not voluntarily forego ; 
 nor would I, God be my v.itness! willingly see the crown 
 of St. Stephen light on the head of Ferdinand." 
 
 " You may take my warrant for it, my lord, it never 
 shall," said the other, with a peculiar expression, which, 
 \)eing remarked by Balassi, afterwards occurred to him 
 as singular, although, at the moment, it made small im- 
 pression on him. 
 
 *' The genius of Martinuzzi is my best surety," said 
 the count, after a short pause, " that such a fatal stab 
 to the independence of fair Erdely will be warded off in 
 time. Prior to the utter defeat of the invader, you will 
 not be required to act : understand, sir, not against Bap- 
 tista Castaldo, Marquis of Piadena, will you waste your 
 strength ; but, on the overthrow of that general, you 
 will spread your snares around the victor, George, cardi- 
 nal, and regent of Hungary." 
 
 " Be assured, at all events, I will not drain my re- 
 sources," said the other; "my object is, first, the dis- 
 comfiture of the Austrians ; and then, by shackling the
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 229 
 
 usurper, to clear the way for the universal acknowledg- 
 ment of the rightful queen of Hungary." 
 
 ''Nay, friend," observed Balassi ; "I should rather 
 suppose, your inducements to this business lie elsewhere ; 
 certain privileges to be conceded to thy people, for in- 
 stance." 
 
 " It may be so," said the other, in a tone of indiffer- 
 ence, '' or, if not, we need not now confer about terms. 
 You have your motives ; I have mine ; which are soundest, 
 time will discover; and so that our common point be 
 gained, it does not much matter, either way. But, mv 
 lord, though the moments of both of us may amount, in the 
 end, to the same sum of time, mycares are more multitudin- 
 ous than yours, and I cannot afford to lavish the precious 
 fugitives, with the like thoughtlessness. My every minute 
 is tasked to the uttermost. I have attended you so far, 
 at your request. 'Tis treason to ourselves, since the lady, 
 you spoke of, is not visible, to dally longer. Even were 
 she present, I know of no inspiring argument, which she 
 could use, in favour of this adventure, one half so power- 
 ful, as I have already whispered to my secret soul." 
 
 " Why, surely," said Balassi, " it would pleasure thee 
 to know, from authority, that thou wert engaged in a loyal 
 deed, were it only, as a set-off to certain transactions of a 
 clear contrary description." 
 
 " The thought I meditate," said the other, '' I care not 
 what men call ; they can't, I trust, but have to say, it 
 succeeded, and success is every thing." 
 
 "Then this gallant gentleman is most confident in his 
 ability, and means, to achieve this mighty enterprise," 
 said a soft, and strange voice, close at hand ; and the 
 same miniite, a female, splendidly arrayed, stepped forth, 
 over the threshold of a low, rustic summer-house, near 
 which they stood, and gracefully saluted Count Balassi. 
 Both cavaliers uncovered their heads ; the one, of his light 
 calpac, and Balassi, of his open helmet, or morion ; for
 
 230 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 they had no difficulty, in immediately recognising Queen 
 Isabella. 
 
 The same causes, which had insensibly inclined the dis- 
 position of the lady, from its original bent, had gradually 
 left their proper traces, on her countenance. Still, what 
 had once been the peculiar cast of her mind, might be 
 gathered, from an attentive perusal of her features : for 
 the physiognomy of qualities, which are indigenous (so to 
 speak) to the individual, can never be entirely suppressed, 
 however the discipline of time, and habit, may insensibly 
 disguise, or partially obscure, its primary expression. 
 Her stature was of a height, which rose to the majestic, 
 and corresponded with her station, and royal habitudes. 
 She looked " every inch a queen." Dignity, and com- 
 mand sat enthroned on her front, as on a pedestal ; her 
 dark hazel eyes, overarched by the gracefully-pencilled 
 eyebrows, whilst they flashed with disdain, exultation, or 
 reproof, confessed her born for empire ; but, ah ! in soli- 
 tude, or when indeed she learned to love, " her life 
 seemed melting through those looks," and the thirsty air 
 might quaiF whole draughts of liquid light, instinct with 
 all the soft, and luxuriant sensibility of her temperament, 
 and sparkling, like so many drops of soul, with the pas- 
 sion, which consumed her. Indeed, the dark hollows, 
 round about those orbs, seemed, to use the figure of the 
 poet, the very mark for Cupid's archery, * Her profuse, 
 and glossy ringlets rivalled, in darkness, the raven's 
 plume ; the form of her head was simple, and dignified, 
 and the lines of her ample forehead, denoted her inflexi- 
 bility of purpose. The outline of her face presented an 
 oval, whose noble regularity, viewed in profile, might 
 once have interested, from its romantic, and melancholy 
 character; but, if so, the hand of time had nearly effaced 
 that expression, and chiselled, in its place, the contour of 
 
 * KoTXai (SXt^dpojv iorvTrecg fSdaitg. — Rufinus.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 231 
 
 regality, and pride. Her mouth was beautiful, and femi- 
 nine, although the ripeness of the upper lip, slightly 
 swollen, as if newly stung, (perhaps an outward, and 
 visible indication, of what had been her abstract, sensual 
 propensities, in her inexperienced girlhood), had settled 
 into the habitual curl of haughtiness, and disdain. With- 
 in, gleamed two rows of polished ivory. The swan might 
 have been proud to display so stately, and graceful a 
 neck, as uprose, in just, and admirable undulation, from 
 the firm, and developed bust, and broad, dazzling shoul- 
 ders of Isabella. 
 
 Such was the queen of Hungary, when we introduce 
 her to our readers, and to the Graf Balassi. The count, 
 to whom she had addressed herself, was the first to speak. 
 
 " I have waited upon you, madam, at this hour, ac- 
 cording to your wishes, expressed at our last interview, 
 and have thought it advisable, that you should yourself 
 converse with the famous leader, whom I named to you, 
 and whose arm is destined to rid your higliness, and the 
 country of that domineering priest, you wot of. I have, 
 therefore, your grace, brought him hither with rae, and 
 this person, standing before you, is the man." 
 
 " Now, as ever, you have acted rightly, my lord Ba- 
 lassi," said Isabella ; '' and you have my thanks. I need 
 not inquire, friend," she continued, shooting a glance at 
 Balassi's companion, by a turn of the eye, without, how- 
 ever, altering her position, " respecting your appetency 
 for the glorious work, in which we would wish to employ 
 thy energies, for I have heard much of what thou hast 
 just spoken ; I will ask, rather, that, which is more be- 
 coming of our station, and agreeable to our disposition to 
 ascertain, namely, in what way we can best recompense, 
 so enterprising a coadjutor?" 
 
 The person, thus addressed, stood with head erect, and 
 a firm countenance. " Madam," he replied, " I mean no 
 disrespect, when I assure you, that it were to tax your 
 bounty, infinitely beyond the means of your exchequer.
 
 232 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 v,'ere I to name a recompence — one half so mighty, as I 
 propose to myself, in achieving this adventure ; and 
 that, without any reference to your grace's largesses, I 
 seek nought of you, but your influence with your nobles, 
 to afford me that opportunity, 1 thirst for, quite as much 
 as can your highness, and, perhaps, with greater reason." 
 
 Isabella was probably mortified, to think, that the ut- 
 most extent of her proffered liberality should be rejected, 
 in such unqualified terms ; it was, therefore, with a con- 
 siderable degree of hauteur, that, after scrutinizing, for a 
 moment, his daring cast of countenance, she demanded of 
 the count, whether his companion was not connected 
 with the people, called Cyganis ? 
 
 " I am their leader, madam," said the person in ques- 
 tion, stopping the reply, that was on the lip of Balassi. 
 
 " And your name, sir; or title, if you have any ?" 
 
 " I am count, by virtue of my office," answered the 
 other; " and, in the world, commonly go by the style of 
 Count Ragotzy, for it is convenient, sometimes," he con- 
 tinued, with a meaning smile, '' to sink the name, Alaric 
 Polgar, which is properly mine, by birth and parentage. 
 Such, hitherto, have been my distinctive appellations: 
 what they may become hereafter, depends very much, on 
 the issue of that event, which shall shortly fill the ears of 
 Hungary, but which is yet, in the womb of time." 
 
 " How, say'st thou?" said Isabella, and her look seemed 
 to rest, with scorn, on the Cygani; "dost seek to exalt 
 thee, by adding to thy titles? Thou would'st have had 
 me believe, I ween, not a minute gone by, I had no boon, 
 ample enough, to requite a brave officer like thee. What 
 rank, — what new appellation, — what distinction, dost thou 
 covet? Only state thy wish, that, with a word, I might 
 transmute thy hope to certainty, or at least, to what is 
 little less than such, being contingent^ on the success of 
 thy daring, in this emprise." 
 
 " Why, 'faith, madam," said Ragotzy, " I have only 
 to repeat, I am not moved to the matter, by any hope of
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 233 
 
 your highness's patronage, or favour. I am here, acting 
 from my own impulses : when you see, how far my course 
 correspondeth with your highness's views, it will be then 
 time enough, to talk of rewards and honours; but ere I 
 humbly take my leave," he continued, disregardful of 
 the angry spot, that loured on the imperial brow of Isa- 
 bella, — " I would request this lord," turning to Balassi, 
 " to inform me, who are committed wnth him, in this con- 
 spiracy, and, by what token, 1 am to distinguish his con- 
 federates, so that I might make some distinction, between 
 friends and foes, in the onslaught, which is likely to 
 ensue; for I apprehend, that Martinuzzi will sell his 
 liberty, and certain of his body- guard their lives, pretty 
 dearly." 
 
 " Why, I believe," replied Balassi ; '' you must, e'en, 
 in a great measure, trust to your sagacity, on the instant. 
 The conduct of any particular chief, under the circum- 
 stances, will be the best badge. Any other, ^vere dan- 
 gerous; nay, it were obviously impossible, in certain in- 
 stances, to adopt any common and distinguishing mark, 
 and it were only to lead you into error, to assume such, 
 partially. The lords, Maylat, Nadastis, and such as they, 
 need hoist no colours to exhibit their hostility to Marti- 
 nuzzi. Their deeds will manifest their party. Others, 
 like Count Turascus, and old John BanfFy, though we 
 dare not lay open our conspiracy to them, have, we 
 know, their hands on their swords' hilt, and the war-cry, 
 " Czerina" on their lip ; and, trust me, the word will be 
 pronounced, and a blow struck at the same moment, that 
 they think they discover, the slightest waning of the star 
 of Martinuzzi. Then will they bring to our aid, all the 
 force of their vassals, and, what is of more importance, 
 all the authority of their character. But you v.ill be 
 initiated, particularly herein, by Mirce, whom you will 
 see at Coloswar, and unto whom your grace, if I under- 
 stood right," he added, addressing the queen, " meant 
 to transmit certain missives."
 
 234 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 " You will oblige me, sir, by undertaking their charge," 
 said Isabella, in a grave tone of voice, and with a manner, 
 even more formal, than she had hitherto adopted. Then, 
 addressing herself to Balassi, she said, in a freer voice, 
 while her countenance shone, with a smile of anticipated 
 revenge: 
 
 " It happens, most fortunately for our views, my lord, 
 my having gained my point, with the cardinal, in regard 
 to that truly attached, and faithful follower of mine, being 
 appointed to the office of castellan, in Coloswar. Pre- 
 vious to the strange evanishment of Count Oldimar, both 
 the governors were the cardinal's creatures: now, thank 
 Heavens ! in Mirce, I command a most devoted adherent, 
 on the very spot, where his services promise to be in- 
 valuable. Then, again," speaking to Ragotzy, who had 
 turned his head aside, during these last words, she said, — 
 " You are too little used to the decorums of a court, sir 
 count, to hide your feelings : I, however, pardon your 
 impatience, and will not detain you an instant, after 
 consigning these trifling despatches to your especial 
 care. Deliver them into Mirce's hands ; they contain 
 directions for his conduct, and information, which he, and 
 all my friends, may find of use; moreover, I have not 
 forgotten to commend the interests of the bearer to his 
 excellency." She paused, and the haughty curl of her 
 lip seemed to increase, as she added; " adieu, sir count, 
 till we meet again; when, please God! and your sword 
 be true, we shall be in a position, to treat with you, as 
 becomes a crowned queen. — My Lord Balassi, I look to 
 see you once more, ere you leave Hermanstadt for your 
 patrimonial hermitage. Gentlemen, both, your obedient!" 
 — And Isabella, after acknowledging the reverence of the 
 chieftains, with graceful, though somewhat haughty 
 courtesy, turned in another direction, and followed one 
 of the intersecting walks, which appeared to lead to a re- 
 mote quarter of the gardens. 
 
 *' Now, that yonder lady be at length gone," said Ra-
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 235 
 
 gotzy, " I shall be glad to hear, my Lord Balassi, your 
 reasons, for mixing her greatness up, with the matter in 
 hand. Were I less urged on by private motives, than I 
 am, her carriage is not exactly calculated, to give one a 
 zest for the undertaking." 
 
 " To say truth, friend," answered Balassi, " I myself, 
 as to individual taste, entertain no uncommon good-will, 
 for that haughty dowager. I ever held John of Zapola, 
 since he joined in wedlock with her grace, no friend to the 
 rights, and privileges of the nobility; and I, and Maylat, 
 (the man I mean, who is now held a prisoner by Solyman, 
 the father of the young nobleman, who is joined with us, 
 in the present enterprise), and certain other indignant 
 spirits, were, in fact, up in arms, on divers points of dif- 
 ference, when King John gave up the ghost, but that 
 grudge is long over ; and verily, after all, what were the 
 fasces of the late king's authority, in comparison, w^ith the 
 rods of iron, with which the usurping regent scourges the 
 native aristocracy? Isabella is confederated, at this day, 
 with the magnats of Hungary, simply because common 
 injuries have wrought out old causes of mutual distrust. 
 I make no doubt, she anticipates ruling over the country, 
 as perfectly in contempt of us, the people,* as ever she 
 was used to do, by means of her ascendancy, over her 
 doating husband. She may find herself mistaken. The 
 principal magnates dread her imperious temper, and in 
 any event, will hardly enlarge her authority. They will 
 ascertain their true interest, no less than perform a para- 
 mount duty, in supporting the Lady Czerina, in all her 
 just prerogatives, on the throne of her father. She is a 
 mere child, and might be easily moulded to our will ; 
 whilst her mother, as innately a tyrant as Martinuzzi 
 himself, would be as little inclined, as is that stern 
 prelate, to pay court to the nobility. But at present, 
 
 * The people, i. e. the privileged classes. — Nomine autem populi hoc 
 in loco intellige solummodo dominos, praelatas, baronas, et alios magnates 
 atque quoslibet nobiles. — Opus. Trip, part 3. tit. 4.
 
 236 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 from our connexion with the widow of King John, we 
 derive a considerable accession of influence, and reputation; 
 and as neither party commit themselves, by throwing a 
 light on their future intentions, the removal of Martinuzzi, 
 will leave the path open on all sides." 
 
 Ragotzy paused for a moment, and then replied; " I 
 will deal plainly with you, my Lord Balassi," he said : 
 *' the other night, long after the deep mid-hour had 
 tolled, I chanced to be in a retired aisle of the church of 
 St. Theresa. Whether the enacting, or the confession of 
 a deed of sin, recommended so remarkable a sojourn, 
 matters not. Let it suffice, that, then, and there, T heard 
 with my own ears, yon lady, so proud in seeming, pour forth, 
 in no measured terms, her passionate love, for a youthful 
 cavalier, whom she joined, in the church, most probably 
 by assignation. That paramour," continued Ragotzy, 
 having observed, after a pause, that Balassi was silent 
 from astonishment, — '•'• for the words of Isabella implied 
 his being no less to her — that paramour was Antoine 
 Ferraro, the secretary to the Austrian legation, in this 
 city." 
 
 Balassi started, and showed no small symptoms of 
 surprise. " Just Heavens! is it credible?" he exclaimed. 
 
 *' Hardly so," replied Ragotzy; "but, nevertheless, 
 most veritable."* 
 
 " Did he court her?" 
 
 " Rather, she courted him, plead, sued to him." 
 
 " How? — affectionately?" 
 
 *' No; servilely, — 1 may say, basely." 
 
 *' What! that scornful dame?" 
 
 "Scornful, my lord! — Pish, pish! Methinks, at your 
 years, you should better understand woman's nature. 
 Pent-fires! — But we are from the point. After what I 
 
 * The interview between Isabella and Ferraro, will be found detailed 
 in a future chapter, when the reader will learn how Count Ragotzy hap- 
 pened to overhear all that passed.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 237 
 
 witnessed, I am right in considering her highness, no very 
 safe accession to our confederacy." 
 
 " Antoine Ferraro !" ejaculated Balassi. 
 '' Even he," replied Ragotzy; " and, holding the 
 office he does, he is the very man, whose cognizance of 
 our plot, we have most cause to deprecate." 
 
 " Isabella! — she, whose pride was glorious, — to stoop 
 to such an abject lowness, as to sue a lover! To fall so 
 far beneath her proper self! — But, enough, — she will 
 never, surely, reveal to the Austrian, our scheme to free 
 the country from Martinuzzi's domination." Thus Balassi 
 pondered with himself, musing audibly. 
 
 '^ Possibly not," answered Ragotzy: "but the integ- 
 rity of the head, where love's frailty riots in the heart, 
 is not worth much. A seductive word will get at secrets 
 sooner than the torture. However, if danger there be, 
 'tis already incurred, and for myself, my plans are hardly 
 so bound up in yours, as to make it a circumstance 
 worthy any regard ; or else, by the God in heaven ! the 
 minion's intrigue with Isabella, should prove his last 
 offering to the devil, whether j9ar amours, or otherwise." 
 *^ Well," said Balassi, Vv-e must only hope for the best ; 
 'tis singular, however, the choice her highness has made. 
 I have heard it whispered, that this young secretary has 
 been selected, by Martinuzzi, for the bridegroom of the 
 Lady Czerina." 
 
 "Surely you err," said Ragotzy; "the rumour ran, 
 the regent's nephew was to be turned into a king, by 
 the conjuration of this royal maiden's bed." 
 
 " Why, in truth, such a match were not so bad. The 
 son of my ancient friend, Pereny, would scarcely seem 
 an unmeet mate, even for the queen of Hungary," re- 
 turned Balassi ; " but his folly, after wearying the whole 
 kingdom, hath worn out the patience, even of his uncle. 
 However, here we enter the more frequented walks of the 
 gardens, and it were better separate. Farewell ; you 
 will not fail to take advantage of any disaffection, among
 
 238 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 the populace, in the towns, through which you travel, to 
 embarrass the regent's government still further, by raising 
 their minds to mutiny, and rebellion." 
 
 " I will exert my modicum of ability that way, you 
 may rest assured, and hope to set to work, ere I leave 
 Hermanstadt," answered Ragotzy. After reciprocal ex- 
 pressions of courteous regard, which, as it happened, 
 might mean every thing or nothing. Count Balassi and 
 the Cygani leader, made signs of leave-taking, and se- 
 parated. 
 
 Suppose we accompany them, for a few paces, on their 
 way, just to discover the nature of their cogitations. 
 
 *' I penetrate that daring miscreant's politics," said 
 the magnat, internally. " I see his drift : he thinks to 
 make himself so useful, as to be indispensable ; and then, 
 forsooth, these Cygani people must have granted them 
 an equality of privileges, with the Magyari ; but once, 
 by his means, let the nobles of Hungary get the upper 
 hand, and Count Ragotzy — Count ! ha ! ha ! ha ! — shall 
 be arraigned, on many a bloody question. This precious 
 race of vagrants shall be rooted out of the land ; the 
 charter, they lay such stress upon, shall be abrogated; 
 and the leader, they take such pride in, shall feel the 
 headsman's axe." 
 
 " Proud, despicable noble !" thought Count Ragotzy, 
 in his secret soul, '' I had difficulty to forbear thee so long. 
 My gorge rose so, at thy arrogant bearing, that thy life 
 was jeopardised, more than once, as we held speech toge- 
 ther. And, thinkest thou, if Hungaria's weal moved me 
 to this deed, that 1 would strip the purple off a single 
 tyrant, (even were Martinuzzi such), and cast it among 
 a hundred meaner despots, to divide into so many shreds 
 and patches, as a type, at once, and an authority, for 
 their several usurpations ? No ! for the happiness, and 
 independence of the state, (with the exception of some 
 score or two of factious grafs, like this Balassi), what 
 rule could be better fitted, than that of Martinuzzi? Not
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 239 
 
 for thy benefit, misproud lord, nor that of thy overbear- 
 ing order, did I conceive the noble enterprise, which I 
 hope to carry into execution ; but because, as thou thy- 
 self saidst, in thine ignorance, the removal of Marti- 
 nuzzi will leave the path open, on all sides. Yes, thou 
 art right: the young queen must then be acknowledged, 
 and her husband v/ill be thy lord and master, my mighty 
 magnat. Ay, Alaric Polgar will be the king of Hun- 
 gary." 
 
 While raising these impalpable edifices, in the airy fu- 
 ture, Ragotzy was so totally abstracted, from the more 
 substantial interests of the present moment, that he was 
 not a little startled, to find his visionary contemplations 
 had carried him, right into the midst of a group of per- 
 sons, assembled in the gardens of the palace. 
 
 These people were remarking, with no small marvel, a 
 young cavalier of noble mien, and gallant bearing, who, 
 with his arms folded across his breast, paced the margin 
 of the river Zibin, beneath a grove of tall cypresses, that 
 spired up, and glanced their foliage, in the glare, and fer- 
 vour of the noon-day sun, like so many restless emeralds. 
 The individual, in question, stopped, ever and anon, and 
 then again walked pensively forward, as if his slow, and 
 funereal tread was unconsciously keeping time, with the 
 sullen current of his disturbed reflection. So conspicu- 
 ously handsome was this man, and possessed of a physi- 
 ognomy so remarkable, that, once beheld, his inefface- 
 able image would dwell in the memory for years, alike 
 haunting the cheerful companioned day, and rising, like 
 an unburied ghost, amid the visions of night. Though 
 slightly built, and with a stature, hardly exceeding the 
 middle height of man, his frame was sinewy, and agile. 
 His features were well formed, and delicately chiselled, 
 yet tinged to almost an Ethiopian hue. His mouth was 
 compressed, as if by some strong internal effort, and small 
 mustaches shaded the upper lip. His dark locks adjusted 
 themselves to the shape of the head, which they enveloped.
 
 240 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY, 
 
 excepting where, here and there, the short, close spiral 
 of crisped curls elongated itself, about the nape of a throat, 
 whose marble whiteness, the embroidered shirt-collar 
 being thrown back, discovered to view. His small- tressed 
 head, was most gracefully set upon his shoulders. His 
 forehead was high, and full, and the somewhat oval cheek 
 was exquisitely rounded, towards the chin. His eyebrows 
 were large, and prominent, and from beneath their shadow, 
 his black eyes glazed out with almost preternatural lustre, 
 like two orbs of fire, whose expression, it were beyond the 
 power of language to picture, being, at once, so intoler- 
 ably fierce, and so exquisitely tender. This contrariety 
 could hardly be exhibited, in one, and the same glance : 
 but the alternation appeared so sudden, and instantaneous, 
 as to produce, on the beholder, the effect of unity. 
 Partly owing to this mutable expression, and partly to 
 the undefined, though powerful character of his whole 
 aspect, the individual, of whom we speak, was one, who, 
 seen but for a minute, left an impression, which even the 
 operation of time, might scarcely efface. The smile, so 
 soft, and sunny, and that terrific frown, seemingly woven, 
 like light and darkness, in the same countenance, were 
 remembered, and spoken of, by the passenger, long after 
 he had encountered them : 
 
 " He would awaken at night, 
 With the dream of those ghastly eyes." * 
 
 White-budding maidens, at their mother's door, would 
 tremble, as he passed, and follow him, with straining gaze, 
 and a "pleasing fear,"t till he v/as out of sight; then, 
 laying their hands on their fluttering bosoms, would sigh 
 at thoughts, they dared not analyze, yet guessed not 
 wherefore. Little children would stop short, in the 
 midst of their gambols, to contemplate the stranger, with 
 wonder, and instinctive awe ; and the fell assassin him- 
 self, would turn aside, in his midnight track, startled 
 
 * Southey. t Byron,
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 24 i 
 
 and appalled, as at a visage, more ominous than his own. 
 This individual was habited, according to the splendid, 
 and picturesque costume of Spain, then much affected, 
 by the cavaliers of the empire. His jubon fitted close 
 to the body, and was composed of claret cloth; appended 
 to this doublet were cuisses, or short skirts of white satin. 
 Over this dress, he wore a light velvet mantle, of the co- 
 lour of claret. His hat was embroidered round the crowm, 
 and brim, and looped up with pearls. Every article of 
 this attire, was most lavishly passamented. Still, though 
 a fastidious eye might detect some points, too richly over- 
 laid, (which few, who remarked, how admirably his fine 
 person became his " prodigal embroideries," * would 
 care to object), the over-abundant costliness must fairly 
 be ascribed to the bias of the times, and not to any error, 
 in the taste of the wearer. His age could not exceed 
 one-and-twenty, and might be, under that period. Such 
 was Marc Antoine Ferraro, secretary to Castaldo, Mar- 
 quis of Piadena, the accredited ambassador, from Ferdi- 
 nand of Austria, to the court of Hermanstadt. For 
 above an hour, this individual traversed the grand lawn, 
 fronting the palace, regardless of the passers by, to 
 whom he soon became an object of no inconsiderable 
 marvel ; nor did he appear to be aware, that his wild 
 and abstracted deportment, had attracted the attention 
 of more than one knot of gazers, who were now drawn to- 
 gether, busying themselves, in eyeing the young secretarv, 
 with all due regard, to keeping their own distance. 
 
 "Holy Mary!" ejaculated a passenger, a middle- 
 aged dame, as she flagged her steps, near one of those 
 straggling coteries: "Holy Mary! did ever Christian 
 see the like ? The young gentleman is lunatic ; yet 
 mark how gallantly he looks it, with his tags, and 
 embroidery. How pale, too! — and what a smile ! — as 
 from an angel." 
 
 * Shirley. 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 '^An angel ! Ay, forsooth ! — an angel in limbo, me- 
 thinks;" interposed a mendicant friar, in a half-whisper, 
 " or an angel, whose whereabouts shall be nameless; the 
 blessed Virgin save us ! I never before encountered such 
 a savage look, and care not, to meet it again ; but he is 
 certainly crazed." 
 
 '' Nay, my good father," put in the first speaker, 
 " he's a proper lad, I maintain, only a little too dressy 
 like; — but he'll know better, mayhap, as his beard 
 thickens." 
 
 *' Does any here know him ? " inquired the friar. 
 
 " I'll warrant him, by the texture of his tissue," re- 
 marked a soldier, disabled in the late wars, "to be an 
 Austrian ; the sons of the Magyari, in our evil days, can- 
 not afford such furbelows." 
 
 " Thou speakest sooth, comrade," exclaimed another 
 voice, loudly, in the ear of the disbanded veteran ; he 
 turned, — a new comer had been added to the assembly. 
 '^ Thou speakest sooth, I say." 
 
 "Why, ay,'' returned the soldier, " I'll be bound he is 
 enrolled in the regent's mercenary band. A murrain 
 seize the outlandish mannikin, nemet ember, nem em- 
 ber,* is a true saying, I see. What have we to do with 
 a parcel of barbarian foreigners, I should like to know ? 
 It shows distrust in Martinuzzi." 
 
 " Why, sir, the kingdom's his," rejoined the new 
 comer ; " your lands, and chattels, nay, your very lives, 
 are vassals to his pleasure. He had better have a care, 
 however, of the storm, which hath still been gathering, 
 and which now mutters its thunder, from yonder distant 
 hills. There is an impulse working, for his ruin, will 
 make itself triumphant. Behold ye it not ? — hear ye it 
 not? Already nation answers nation; and,lo! from 
 many a deep, and hollow thoroughfare, the sound re- 
 verberates. It rushes hither, from Stamboul, — from Vi- 
 
 t Hungarian adage, signifying "A German man is no man."
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 243 
 
 enna, and the woods of Transylvania answer. Ha ! 
 said I not well, friends ?" 
 
 The little knot of citizens drew back in a body, per- 
 fectly at a loss to comprehend, how any man could be 
 so foolhardy, as to give utterance, to such language, at 
 noon-day, in Hermanstadt. The individual, who excited 
 this astonishment, was tall, and of majestic mien, but his 
 person was carefully enveloped, in a motley sheep-skin 
 cloak ; such as the richters, or chiefs of the neighbouring 
 province of Wallachia, were accustomed to wrap about 
 them. It was decorated, on the outside, with patches of 
 leather, of divers sizes, and colours, and was faced, with 
 fur of no ordinary price. The cape was of the finest 
 wool, and was drawn so closely round the under part of 
 the face, that it suggested the idea, of being intended for 
 a disguise. If this was really the case, the object was 
 not altogether attained, for the few points of his cos- 
 tume, which his muster-piece did not hide, betrayed an 
 incongruity, that could not easily escape notice. He had 
 on his head the kalpac, or Hungarian national cap, with 
 a projecting front of black lambskin, which slouched, in 
 an enormous shade, over his face, and was surmounted, 
 by a small peacock's feather. In his left hand, he held 
 the chakan, or bludgeon, of considerable thickness. So 
 far, there was nothing remarkable ; but the minutise, we 
 have described, were utterly out of keeping, with the 
 cshizmas, or open boots, of the finest chamois leather, that 
 graced his legs, and with the massive golden spurs, there- 
 unto attached ; which singular, and ill-assorted union, 
 indeed, seemed to give the lie direct, to his other accou- 
 trements. 
 
 " I tell ye," continued this personage, with animation, 
 whilst many of his auditors, not being ambitious of his 
 lecture, or, perhaps, not caring to render themselves 
 amenable to the arm of power, had either slunk away, 
 one by one, in confusion, and remained loitering, at a 
 short distance, or had fied the gardens entirely — ' sic 
 
 m2
 
 244 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 est mox vulgus' — " I tell ye, the avalanche is suspended, 
 by a film, more subtle than gossamer — a breath disparts 
 it, and the inundation is complete." 
 
 "Ay, ay," exclaimed the soldier, " it will shower down, 
 on the city, one of these days, I'll warrant ! St. Stephen 
 be our protection ! since, for my part, I see no other." 
 
 *' There needs none," resumed the former, hotly ; 
 " neither devil, nor saint can aid ye ; but you need nei- 
 ther." 
 
 The diminished crowd broke, into still smaller groups, 
 as a low cry of terror was heard, in the direction of the 
 palace. The orator, meanwhile, without heeding it, 
 went on, in a louder tone. 
 
 "The close and stagnant air of disease, and putrefac- 
 tion can only be rendered wholesome, by the hurricane. 
 Tyranny may be borne for a strange term, but even ty- 
 ranny hath its allotted period." 
 
 "The black! — the black! — the familiar of Father 
 Dominick !" exclaimed some one with wild affright. And 
 the next moment, several voices cried out, " If he be not 
 coming towards us ! — Look, there he is ! — Holy Mary 
 save us ! — The black ! the black !" 
 
 Our radical friend, not the less proceeded — 
 
 " I tell ye, countrymen" — but his information was ne- 
 cessarily stopped short, by the total dispersion of his au- 
 dience, in all directions, like so many globules of quick- 
 silver, at a touch. 
 
 As he pronounced these last words, in something of an 
 exalted tone, he was surprised, to feel a heavy hand laid 
 upon his shoulder. Reverting his head, his looks fell, on 
 the dark visage of Scipio, the attendant of the dreaded 
 Father Dominick. Obeying the sudden, and fierce im- 
 pulse of the instant, the knight, involuntarily, cast his 
 hand under his muster-piece, and, from thence, half drew 
 forth a brilliant two-handed sword ; but, observing a 
 gathering crowd, at no great distance, he recollected him- 
 self, and, almost directly, resheathed it. The movement
 
 M.iNUSCRIPT VI. 
 
 245 
 
 was not, however, so quickly executed, but that the 
 weapon attracted the eyes of Scipio, in whom the deepest 
 excitation seemed to be suddenly produced by the sight. 
 
 " How came you by that ?" he demanded, in an impe- 
 tuous, and agitated voice. 
 
 The other, wrapping the cape of his mantle closer 
 around the under part of his face, and pulling down his 
 kalpac, so low over his brows, as to cast his eyes into 
 shadow, answered, in a tone, which was intended to ap- 
 pear cool, and indifferent. " What's that to you, my 
 sable questioner ?" With these words, he brushed by his 
 companion, and passed forward, at a quick pace. 
 
 The black instantly followed, and, coming up with 
 him, the two men strode silently, side by side. For above 
 a minute, the Ethiop sternly scanned him of the muster- 
 piece. He again spoke, — " 1 have found, then, the mur- 
 derer at last, and in thee !" 
 
 " I understand you not," replied the stranger, with ap- 
 parent unconcern, and without stopping, or turning his 
 head. 
 
 " Well, it skills not wasting words," rejoined the 
 black. " You are now in the city, on Father Dominick's 
 warrant of safe conduct, and it may not consist with his 
 policy to break it; nevertheless, after this notice, if 
 straightwise thou quittest not Hermanstadt, I will my- 
 self denounce thee to the tribunal of justice ! — Avaunt 
 thee, homicide !" 
 
 "Thou art under some delusion, friend; I assure you," 
 answered the stranger; "we never met before in our lives; 
 and, on such a point," he subjoined, scoffingly, " I suspect, 
 I am likely to be the better judge : you know me not." 
 
 " A word in your ear," said the African. He drew 
 cautiously nearer ; and, remote as they were from observa- 
 tion, sunk his voice into a whisper, as he added, " we en- 
 countered on the night of the murder of Count Rodna." 
 
 The stranger half stopped short, and thrust his hand 
 within his mantle-piece. " 'Tis false !" he said, faintly. 
 ' Thou wast not present, — nor I."
 
 246 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ** Whose spear is that, by thy side ?" interrupted Scipio, 
 again fixing on him along, piercing look. ''The good old 
 man who once owned it, shall yet be avenged ; but you 
 may now depart." Having uttered this command, he 
 abruptly halted beside a ruinous porchway, which, in 
 other times, was the entrance of the royal palace, but 
 of late years had been suffered to grow dilapidated. 
 The other made a pause also. 
 
 " Do you hear?" repeated the African, in a louder 
 and authoritative tone, motioning him away, with a high, 
 and haughty sweep of his arm: " I would be alone." 
 
 The other hesitated, looked around him, for an in- 
 stant, and then said, slowly, but joyously — "This 
 chance will prove as good for me, as half thy revenues, 
 counted in my coffers, thou mighty renegade ! By my 
 hand, Ferdinand sends you tl)is!" With these words, he 
 drew his sword, and rushed towards where the African 
 had been standing, only a few seconds before. He had 
 already, however, retired within the umbrage of the 
 porch. The stranger pursued, but suddenly drew back, 
 and gazed about him bewildered. The man, whom 
 he had just destined for his victim, had vanished ! The 
 frustrate murderer presently turned about, and left the 
 place. His steps were measured, until he had passed 
 the wooded belt of the garden, when, immediately, with 
 rapid strides, he hurried along the narrow street, and 
 soon reached the barrier. Here, the sentinel on duty 
 stopped him ; but being in possession of the counter- 
 sign, he was allowed to quit the city ; and the last glance 
 from Heaven, on that day, threw his gigantic shadow, 
 upon horseback, along the wayside, many leagues dis- 
 tant, from the city of Hermanstadt. 
 
 A few minutes after the departure of the stranger, 
 Scipio, was again, in the gardens of the palace, and stood, 
 at Ferraro's side, ere the other knew of his approach. 
 *' Boy ! look up !" cried the African, in a loud voice. 
 
 Waking from his reverie, with a start, Ferraro looked 
 around.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 247 
 
 " So thou art come," he said, in a tone, that seemed 
 deeply agitated, by his melancholy reflections. " I have 
 been some time waiting." 
 
 " You are to blame," observed the black, "to make 
 yourself the general spectacle : — your vagaries have been 
 the subject of observation, to the accidental passengers, 
 for the last half hour." 
 
 " It matters not ; all is over," returned Ferraro, and 
 he hung his head, as if in hopeless despondency. 
 
 *'What can have happened, to unhinge thy mind to 
 this degree?" demanded the African. 
 
 '* Art thou wise ?" said Ferraro ; '' if so, leave me to 
 my fate." 
 
 "Never!" answered Scipio. Then, in a more persua- 
 sive accent, he continued, "Come, come, be advised — 
 tell me, the source of these throes of sorrow : methinks 
 thou canst feel none, I cannot remedy, — perhaps, do not 
 already guess." 
 
 " Thou liest, old man," answered the other, with yet 
 greater distemperature of manner, — " this grief is beyond 
 thy ken. Thy words are ever false ; they soothe my 
 senses, indeed, for the instant, but they are breath, 
 and leave no monument behind : thou shouldst blush, 
 through that visage of thine, were it begrimed, as with 
 the smoke of hell, for having lured me on, day after 
 day, as in a dream. Oh ! what a dolt was I, to 
 suppose, that thou hadst power to save me from the 
 brink ! Ere your honeyed words taught me to hope, I 
 was content — ay, content, though wretched. Now! I 
 have indulged myself in dreams of transport, which, to 
 realize, the paradise of the false prophet, were well forti- 
 fied. I will not have my dazzling, and heaven-capped 
 visions topple from their base ; — 'twas you first set me on 
 to build them. If they dissolve," he concluded, in a pa- 
 roxysm of emotion, which had in it something almost 
 frantic, — " may the vast ruin crush you !" 
 
 " I know, it was no light matter I engaged for," re-
 
 248 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 plied the black ; " but I repeat, Ferraro, that the Queen 
 of Hungary shall, one day, be yours." 
 
 " One day, say you !" echoed Ferraro, with a yell of 
 agony. " Ay, the one day, which yonder planet has 
 already worn to the dregs ; — this day, or never! — Did 
 not the angel, you have in pay, tell you so much? — I 
 have had presents from the Marquis Piadena." 
 
 " Well," said the African, in a calm voice. 
 
 " Do you hear? — from the Imperial court!" 
 
 " Well," repeated the other, with imperturbable gra- 
 vity: "Well, well! — and is that all ? 1 tell you, 
 these despatches, writ in gall, brewed from the infer- 
 nal Styx, bear my damnation. Can your wisdom di- 
 vine how ?" 
 
 " Coloswar is invested," replied the black ; " and, fur- 
 ther, the army of your royal master, by forced marches, 
 hath entrenched itself at Alba Julia." 
 
 "Man!" ejaculated Ferraro, in an accent of uncon- 
 trolled wonder. There was silence for above a minute; at 
 length the secretary again spoke : " So, black magician ! 
 what besides ?" And the impassioned youth stood, with 
 his arms folded, whilst he awaited the other's answer. 
 
 It was almost instantly rendered. " In consequence 
 of the absence of the Marquis of Piadena, you are in- 
 vested with authority, by your king, to declare war, in 
 his name, unless, without reservation, certain conditions 
 be complied with." 
 
 " Black magician !" said Ferraro, with a look of in- 
 creased astonishment, and awe ; and in a voice, whose tones 
 were far deeper, and more concentrated, than before ; 
 " Can you name those conditions ?" 
 
 "The immediate deposition of the daughter of John, 
 and Isabella, in favour of Martinuzzi, who is to hold his 
 crown, as tributary vassal to Ferdinand. That is the first 
 condition. 
 
 " The second is the cession of Transylvania, to the 
 crown of Austria, on the demise of Martinuzzi."
 
 M AX U SCRIPT VI. 
 
 249 
 
 "■ Verily, thou hast not been misinformed," exclaimed 
 Ferraro, with bitterness, " let thy information come from 
 what fiend it may. However, say on ; what instructions 
 besides ?" 
 
 " You are ordered, in case these terms (as is well 
 taken for granted) be rejected, forthwith to demand your 
 safe-conduct, and proceed hence, without loss of time, to 
 join the Austrian army, of which Castaldo hath already 
 assumed the command." 
 
 '' And you know all this?" shouted Ferraro, in a voice 
 of thunder. " Grant, my punishment was ordained, were 
 there no bolts but these to hurl, at my devoted head ? By 
 the red expiation of my soul, 'tis past endurance ! I rob 
 my adored Czerina of her kingdom ! I rudely snatch her 
 coronet, from her beauteous head ! I remain at l.er court, 
 like an infernal lie, as an assurance of peace, betwixt the 
 two kingdoms, whilst Ferdinand marches an hostile army, 
 into the heart of the country ! Now, what say you, to this 
 accumulation of horrors, thou never-failing mediciner?" 
 
 Ferraro ceased, and, with a gaze of unutterable an- 
 guish, looked in the face of his sable counsellor. Scipio 
 remained mute. There was solitude over that landscape. 
 The gardens of the palace were deserted, and as they 
 glared on one another, with a meteoric, and similar ex- 
 pression, in both their eyes, they offered no bad image of 
 two of the enemies of man, met, on this nether sphere, to 
 consult about the kidnapping of human souls. 
 
 The African was the first to speak. " Ferraro," he 
 said, in a solemn voice, " it is the part of a coward to 
 despair ; the brave man hopes on to the end. The 
 chances of time flit along the horizon of his life, till 
 time is no more ; perhaps, indeed, he may not clutch 
 them, but they soothe the fancy, nevertheless ; or, when 
 they delude no longer, there is eternity .'" 
 
 " Dost preach?" exclaimed Ferraro, in a transport of 
 passion. 
 
 ** Yet, bear with me, my young friend," resumed the 
 m5
 
 250 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 black. " If, what I have just divined, be all your diffi- 
 culty, it need not distress you." 
 
 " How ?" returned the secretary, breaking in with in- 
 creasing wildness of speech, and gesture — " Not distress 
 me, to depose Czerina by force of arms, and despoil her 
 of her royal inheritance ! What do you dream of?" 
 
 ''The conditions annexed to peace may be accepted," 
 observed the black. 
 
 " No, 'tis vain to reckon on that, than which no dream 
 is less substantial." said Ferraro, after a moment's pause; 
 '" 'twould brand the proud name of Martinuzzi, with ever- 
 lasting infamy, for him to stoop so low, as to become the 
 servile minister of a foreign court." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; yet continue not in error, Ferraro," 
 said the black ; *' those conditions of peace, you will lay 
 before Martinuzzi, will be subscribed." 
 
 " Away ! thou dost malign the regent," answered Fer- 
 raro, with the enthusiasm which belonged to his charac- 
 ter ; " thou dost him foul wrong, sir. The guardian and 
 protector turn usurper ? Never ! Martinuzzi prove false 
 to himself, and his country ? No, sir ! He knows too well 
 what he owes to his exalted reputation, to wreck it, on 
 such pitiful ambition. Indeed, you belie him; he is not 
 the man to comprise, in one bad deed, all that is dis- 
 honourable, and cruel." 
 
 Scipio looked upon his enthusiastic companion, for a 
 minute, without replying. At length, with a deep so- 
 lemnity of manner, he made answer — " The exact mea- 
 sure of iniquity that enters into any act, can be known, 
 Antoine, only to the Searcher of all hearts ; the best of 
 us are but men, and liable to the infirmities of human 
 nature ; and are not to be tried by the standard of their 
 own, sometime, and, perchance, short-lived perfection, 
 which were a criterion, more adapted to the unfaltering 
 purity of angels. Trust me, Martinuzzi will subscribe 
 the terms proposed, by your royal master." 
 
 The African spoke slowly, and earnestly ; and a pause
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 
 
 251 
 
 ensued, which he broke, by abruptly asking, as if at the 
 suggestion of a sudden thought — '' Have you explained 
 the situation of your heart, to the fair lady of your love ? 
 Believe me, as matters stand, it is your only course. 
 The sooner you prevail, on the lady Czerina, to give you 
 a title to protect her, the better for herself. Seek her, as 
 near her solitude, as you may penetrate. Have you yet 
 spoken out V 
 
 " Ah! my friend," answered Ferraro, " what need of 
 words, to make her understand, how I do languish for 
 her ? If," he proceeded, in a strain, and accent of the 
 deepest feeling, " if she cannot read the state of my 
 affections, in the long-drawn sigh, that will not be sup- 
 pressed — in the vainly-guarded glances of unutterable 
 devotion, which will escape me, when I am near her — in 
 the voluptuous trembling of my frame — in the flush, with 
 which an inadvertent word suflfuses me, and the deep 
 paleness, which succeeds — in the moving languor, which 
 subdues me in her presence — in my broken speech, and 
 in the, still more prevailing, eloquence of silence — in my 
 departed spirits, and in my declining health — surely, my 
 friend, if appeals, like these, can't touch the sympathy of 
 woman, 'twere a waste of breath, to unlock the fountains 
 of the sealed-up heart, and speak." 
 
 '^ Ah ! Ferraro," said the African, evincino:the strong:- 
 est symptoms of interest, and compassion, " were my 
 life-blood necessary, to obtain thee the hand of the young 
 queen, so Heaven deal with me, in my need I if I would 
 not submit my neck to the headsman's axe, or the assas- 
 sin's steel, both of which, God wot how difficultly, I have 
 for so many years evaded. Still, let not this thing dull 
 the current of thy young blood, but speak to the lady. 
 There is a minute — such omnipotence hath sympathy 
 over the female heart — in which a lover's presence is 
 irresistible, and when he will not woo in vain." 
 
 '' Alas ! my friend," returned Ferraro, " Ixion like, I 
 gaze on loved Czerina. till mv heart is scorched. I dare
 
 252 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 presume no more, and feel it is almost blasphemy, even 
 in my dreams, to clasp her shadow." 
 
 " I believe," replied the black, " I can imbue you 
 with a motive, sufficiently startling, to oblige you to 
 penetrate the cloud of her divinity, and embrace a sub- 
 stance for thy pains." 
 
 " What doth thy speech imply ?" inquired the secre 
 tary. 
 
 ** This much ; that unless you speedily come to expla- 
 nation with the lady, she will be compelled to surrender 
 lier hand to Solyman." 
 
 " What say you ?" demanded Ferraro, in the hollow 
 tones of anguish, and amazement. 
 
 " I tell you, the Sultan asks the queen of Hungary in 
 marriage," answered the black. 
 
 " Then, God help her !" said Ferraro, in solemn ac- 
 cents ; " and God preserve my poor senses ; for fate, it 
 seems, has taken her side — the side of wrong and misery. 
 Yet, how can you suppose, the knowledge of my passion 
 might avert the destruction of us both ?" 
 
 " Why," replied the black, " were she conscious, that 
 your arms were unto her, as a haven, the strong necessity 
 of her heart would bid her stand at bay, and laugh to 
 derision, the menaces of Isabella." 
 
 " Whose I" exclaimed Ferraro. 
 
 " The queen dowager," replied the black. 
 
 " Ha ! and is that it?" cried Ferraro, with increasing 
 energy, and haste; "then this alliance you speak of, 
 Scipio, is of her mother's concocting, is it V 
 
 " The queen regent has entered into a sort of treaty, 
 with Solyman, the main stipulation of which is, the sacri- 
 fice of Czerina." 
 
 " How know you this ?" demanded Ferraro. 
 
 " I overheard Isabella expatiate largely to her daugh- 
 ler, on the advantage of the connection." 
 
 *' You overheard this, my friend !" cried Ferraro, in 
 amazement. ** Do you mean, that you were present ?"
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 253 
 
 " I believe, I must acknowledge as much," answered 
 the black, with a grim smile. 
 
 *' Sacred Providence !" cried Ferraro ; "was Czerina 
 a party to her mother's views ?" 
 
 " She protested she would sooner die, than suffer, in 
 her person, such a profanation of the sacrament of mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " That 's some comfort, yet," said Ferraro. 
 
 "But," rejoined the African, "she will find herself 
 too feeble to resist, for any length of time, the arts, and 
 rage of Isabella." He paused, and then, in a tone of 
 greater depth, and seriousness than before, continued — 
 " The autumn leafage, fallen in yonder basined lake, 
 whirls, ever and anon, upon the eddying breeze, oscilla- 
 ting, hither and thither, between wind and water ; yet 
 must be ultimately wafted along upon the ripples of the 
 current : thus Czerina's mind, however it may struggle, 
 to and fro, for awhile, will finally set, in the direction of 
 her mother's wishes. On you, depends her only chance 
 of deliverance ; be the result what it may, declare your- 
 self immediately: do so, lest your — I would say, lest 
 Maximilian, Count Pereny, anticipate you." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Ferraro. 
 
 " Do so," continued the black, " ere some brigand 
 chief, so plentiful in these bad, and broken times, forestall 
 your purposes." 
 
 " What mean you?" cried Ferraro. 
 
 " Do so," proceeded the black, without noticing the 
 interruption, " ere Isabella take effectual means, to pre- 
 vent you." 
 
 The glow faded, from Ferraro's cheek ; he moved one 
 step backwards, as if struck, by something, in the black's 
 last observation, and observed — " Then will I confess : 
 pray Heaven, as you say, it be not already too late. If 
 Isabella discover my love, for her daughter, I am undone; 
 for, oh ! my friend, learn that — " Here, arresting the 
 current of his speech, Ferraro stopped short, like one,
 
 264 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 who is afraid of committing himself. " No, for shame ! 
 Ferraro," he subjoined, in a lower key, '* that were un- 
 worthy of me to allude to." 
 
 *' What must I believe ?"' demanded the black, has- 
 tily. 
 
 " It boots not now to tell," returned Ferraro, with 
 assumed indifference ; " only if the queen regent should 
 obtain a knowledge of my passion, for the lady Czerina, 
 there remains not the remotest chance, that the star of 
 my love will be propitious." 
 
 The African listened attentively, but, with the counte- 
 nance of a man, lost in profound, and anxious rumination. 
 ''A painful idea flashes on me," he muttered, musingly, 
 in a hoarse, and altered tone — " 'Tis, indeed," he said, 
 affecting a calmness, he was far from feeling, '' a fatal 
 quicksand, on which you have cast your hopes. But — " 
 Here the accents of the black swelled into sternness, and 
 he raised up his clenched hands, as he inquired, with 
 vehemence, "Who gave you permission, sir?" Then, 
 breaking off, in some confusion, after a minute's pause, 
 he ejaculated to himself, with strong agitation of manner, 
 although in a suppressed voice — " Oh cursed! in every 
 way — in retrospect — in prospect. Both, too !" 
 
 The young secretary looked on, amazed, for a moment, 
 and then, impatient of the conference, intimated, that 
 even whilst he spake, the regent had promised to allow 
 him an audience. The two shortly separated, the black, 
 with a saddened brow, striking into the deepest of the 
 neighbouring thickets; and Ferraro, as Scipio disappeared 
 from view, taking the nearest path, that led to the Gothic 
 keep of Hermanstadt. 
 
 Antoine Ferraro, early an orphan, was the grandson, 
 on the mother's side, and pupil, of the celebrated historian, 
 Jerome Lascus, erewhiles palatine of Seradia. The ad- 
 ventures, and hair-breadth scrapes of that personage, fall 
 not within the scope of our story. His life had been in 
 imminent danger, from the dungeon of Solyman, the tor-
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 255 
 
 tures of John of Zapola, and the poisonous medicaments 
 of Sigismund, king of Poland, his native sovereign. For 
 the last few years of his eventful, and protracted pilgrim- 
 age, he had resided in Vienna, on a small pension, 
 allowed him, in consideration of his counsel, and services, 
 by the archduke Ferdinand. It was long since reported, 
 throughout Europe, that the lamented statesman had 
 fallen a victim to his hardships, and misfortunes, and the 
 secret of his continued existence was only promulged, to 
 a very few of his most assured, and intimate friends. 
 
 On the Marquis of Piadena being appointed ambas- 
 sador to Hermanstadt, Lascus's interest obtained, for his 
 grandson, the situation of secretary to that nobleman. 
 At parting, Ferraro was enjoined, by his venerable pre- 
 ceptor, to seek out, in the capital of Transylvania, a friend 
 of his father's; and recommended, at the same time, to 
 take no measure of importance, without that person's con- 
 currence. 
 
 " And who, and what may be this individual ?" inquired 
 Ferraro. 
 
 ''An African," answered Lascus, *' at present in the 
 service of the holy confessor of cardinal Martinuzzi. 
 Resort to him, in all times of inquietude, and peril, as you 
 would to me, were you in Vienna." 
 
 " A menial were a fine counsellor, truly, for one, who 
 wears chain and spurs !" exclaimed Ferraro, with no little 
 disdain. 
 
 '' He is not what he seems," rejoined Lascus. '' Respect 
 my wishes, Antoine, in giving heed to that man. He is 
 your fate 1" 
 
 This request, so solemnly enjoined, was not disregarded. 
 From the moment of Ferraro's introducing himself to the 
 notice of the black, he felt drawn towards him, by an im- 
 pulse, the force of which he could neither understand, nor 
 oppose. The attendant of Father Dominick, obtained an 
 influence over him, so powerful, that into his ears he freely 
 confided all his most treasured thoughts, and wishes, till,
 
 256 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 in an evil hour, he yielded to a temptation, that shame, 
 and honour, alike forbade his communicating to his sable 
 intimate. But when, subsequently, the true flame of his 
 passion for the queen of Hungary, absorbed and swallowed 
 up, like the rod of Aaron, the false, and sensuous incan- 
 tations which preceded it, Ferraro made the black the con- 
 fidant of his audacious love, and was encouraged, by that 
 mysterious man, to prosecute his suit, in the certainty of 
 not being refused her royal hand, by her guardian, if he 
 could only obtain her own consent, to make him king of 
 Hungary, 
 
 We will now return to where we left the young secre- 
 tary, proceeding with all speed, to his interview with Mar- 
 tinuzzi. The mere distance he had to traverse, was not 
 o-reat; nevertheless, it took him some time to surmount 
 all the embarrassments of the ruinous street — and this 
 period he employed, in endeavouring to collect his scat- 
 tered thoughts, that he might play his part, with proper 
 dignity, in the impending conference, with the regent. 
 To his discretion, was entrusted the majesty of Austria, 
 and however, in his secret soul, he might scorn the dupli- 
 city of Ferdinand, it was not for him, in his sacred capa- 
 city, to betray his sentiments, or to derogate, from the 
 honour of the sovereign, who employed him, by any ad- 
 mission of his treachery. Still, he could not but be con- 
 scious, that he was charged with a commission, in the 
 highest degree, dangerous, and delicate, and his generous 
 mind revolted, at having to palliate, or rather justify, so 
 atrocious a proceeding, as the invasion of the territory of 
 an ally, with the object of dethroning the sovereign, and 
 despoiling her of her dominions. 
 
 The prize, held out to the ambition of the regent, he 
 looked upon, as no less disgraceful, in his court, to offer, 
 than beneath the dignity of Martinuzzi, to accept. He 
 adhered most constantly, and inflexibly to his first opinion, 
 that the proposition, he had to submit, would be rejected, 
 with unqualified disdain. Still, after his late conference,
 
 MANUSCRIPT VI. 257 
 
 with Scipio, he could not shut out ideas of an opposite 
 kind, nor help wishing-, that ^lartinuzzi might, in this in- 
 stance, not act up, to those exalted preconceptions of his 
 charEtcter, which his actions had inspired. Yet, when he 
 further came to reflect, that that side of the alternative, 
 involved the deposition of his adored Czerina, he could 
 only accuse himself of selfishness, in contemplating the 
 possibility of such an issue, with any feelings of satisfaction. 
 And yet, Ferraro did regard the contingency of Marti- 
 nuzzi's acquiescence, in the demands of Ferdinand, with a 
 partial gleam of undefined, and ineffable delight. Would 
 not the very fact of the young queen's resignation of her 
 crown, pave the way for his pretensions, by rendering her 
 a more legitimate object of ambition? And would not 
 he remain in Hermanstadt, in peace, instead of having to 
 enter the city, through carnage, and in triumph ? Thus, 
 he pondered within himself, and who, with such happi- 
 ness in prospect, could turn away his mind, at the voice 
 of principle, and notcherish, with Ferraro, a confused hope, 
 that the indulgence of his passions might, by some means 
 or other, yet in the womb of fate, be found compatible 
 with his public duty,* and that circumstances would 
 reconcile, and subserve, his secret purposes ? 
 
 Presently, these sanguine considerations, which had just 
 flowed, with the most plenteous tide, began to ebb; and 
 again Ferraro argued, with a curdling of the blood, that 
 the injured maiden would never endure the presence of a 
 man, who, by her dethronement, had put a sudden date to 
 the regal dynasty, of which she was the illustrious repre- 
 sentative. Would she condescend, to return the aflfections 
 of one, who came, like a mildew, in the hands of tyranny, 
 to blight her fair leaves of promise? Yet, again, where- 
 
 * It has ever been the problem of life, how tomake probity and grati- 
 fication cohere ; but it cannot be wo-ked, for as Lord Shaftesbury well 
 observes, "The rules of harmony will not permit it. The dissonancys 
 are too strong." — Charact. part. 4, § 2.— Freedom of Wit,
 
 258 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 fore suffer his thoughts, to glance that way ? What signi- 
 fied his bewailing the wretchedness of this chance, when 
 it was more probable, he continued, in gloomy foreboding, 
 that the stern virtue of Martinuzzi was destined, to present 
 him, with ampler matter, for his future ruminations, and 
 despair? Oh! it was too evident, his hard fate would 
 never more connive, at his feeding, in raptextacy, on each 
 graceful motion of Czerina's form, till his whole soul 
 seemed to himself dissolving away, before the beautiful 
 vision. — He would never! — But here the train of Ferraro's 
 lamentations was necessarily broken. His thoughts had 
 carried him so far, as to a species of ante-room, or vesti- 
 bule, and thence they inducted him into the audience 
 closet of the cardinal.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 259 
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 
 
 " It is the devil's part to suggest; ours not to consent: — as 
 often as we resist him, so often we overcome him ; as often 
 as we overcome him, so often we bring joy to the angels, and 
 glory to God; who opposeth us, that we may contend, and 
 assisteth us, that we may conquer." — St. Bern, in Ser. 
 
 " Hinc jam toto orbeprofugus Perenus, nee alius ei tutus ad 
 latendum supererat locus." — Rufin. lib. i. c. 16. 
 
 " Pectora cui credam 1 Quis me lenire docebit 
 JMordacas curas 1 Quis longam fallere noctem 
 Dulcibus alloquis?" — Silv. Lib. Milton. 
 
 "0\piv i£eXv £(f)e~(o<7dv oi TrapdXoyov ocrrig av SfeojTVdJv 
 77 S^tojv til} TO ^e (pdafxa tiTrdv, ocrog w Bpovre caifxojv 
 icaKoc.— AnniAN. 
 
 It is a remark, which has been so often iterated, from the 
 earliest era, down to the present day, as almost to have 
 slid into an adage, that whereas poets picture the golden 
 age, whilst the world was yet young, so childhood is the 
 golden season of human life. But, although this analogy 
 may hold correct, in part, it is far from being universally 
 predicable. Not to mention the thousands, and tens of 
 thousands, of little human creatures, from the sweat of 
 whose young brows, the wealth of nations is painfully 
 distilled, (as we are neither penning a satire, nor a sermon, 
 we need not be more explicit), and who, ere the waters of 
 baptism are dry upon their heads, — yea, with their mother's 
 milk yet warm on their livid lips, begin their unhallowed 
 task; and, through years of helplessness, hopelessly, toil
 
 '260 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 on, till precocious passion dawns, to redeem their capti- 
 vity, at once gilding, with its false hectic, the sombre 
 colouring of their lives, and, with its fruitless stings,* 
 spurring them forward, to the close. Not to insist on such, 
 let us glance our mind's eye, on those children of compe- 
 tence, who are presumed to commence their lives, under 
 happier auspices. But, in this survey, however, we may 
 persuade ourselves, we can only determine of the whole, 
 by a limited induction of particulars. 
 
 In the spring of life, however regretful the current of 
 our days, sorrow has scarce had time, to leave his distin- 
 guishing traces, in the lines of our countenances, — the 
 physiognomy is yet unformed, and that secret, " w^hich 
 weighs on the heart," but which cannot be gathered, from 
 the features, it were in vain to seek, in the confession of 
 the sufferer. There is seldom much sympathy between 
 the child, and the adult. Neither are their joys mutual, 
 nor sorrows, in common ; and, when sympathy is with- 
 held, or believed to be so, by what conjuration can confi- 
 dence be induced? Youth is more frequently the season of 
 reserve, than people imagine; and the young heart, in, 
 by far the greater part of its depths, remains a holy, 
 and hidden thing, only known to its Omniscient Searcher. 
 Grief and anxiety do not, it is true, commonly lay an 
 invincible hold of us, in childhood. The elasticity of 
 that early period of existence, will soon procure an in- 
 terval of repose, which, however, be it remembered, is no 
 less transient, than the anguish which preceded it. Indeed, 
 it may fairly be made a question, whether the briefness 
 of infantile sorrow can counterpoise its degree of agony, 
 or compensate, for the frequency of its recurrence. " The 
 tear forgot as soon as shed," we do not believe in; but if 
 the experience of the reader be happier than our ov/n, let 
 him recollect, how many a scalding, though, (we grant) 
 causeless, tear blots the fair page of the history of child- 
 
 * Infructuosis afFectuum spinis. — Boethius.
 
 iMANUSCRIPT VII. 261 
 
 hood. We are persuaded, that the judgments conceived 
 of the disposition, and state of mind of the juvenile portion 
 of society, by their nearest connections, are often falla- 
 cious, and too hastily imbibed; they contemplate the 
 habits of the helpless being-, under their control, through 
 too close, and therefore a delusive medium, which dis- 
 colours, and perverts, the object ; and are apt to reconcile, 
 and accommodate, whatever fall under their observation, 
 to some hastily conceived theory, with which, not once 
 in a hundred instances, will they be found, exactly, to 
 quadrate. 
 
 Thus, building, with inadequate materials, a baseless 
 edifice of character, and disposition, and grasping some 
 shadowy semblances, they early begin to fashion the mind, 
 and heart, of their young disciple, according to their pre- 
 onceptions, and ever afterwards, misinterpret all his 
 minutest words, and indifferent actions; viewing them, 
 not as they are, but according to the nice, and deceptious 
 microscope of parental, or kindred prejudice. It is as- 
 tonishing the injustice, that is, not seldom, committed, by 
 these false constructions, and the puerile grief and indig- 
 nation to which they give rise, are more excessive, than 
 the injured party cares to acknowledge. But, were there 
 no other cause, than the abject state of subjection, to 
 which the free wmU of children is condemned, in, what is 
 called, civilized society, that were more than sufficient to 
 countervail every incentive to happiness, whether spring- 
 ing, from the accident of prosperity, or the more intrinsic 
 advantage of a lively temperament. 
 
 " But children near their parents tremble now, 
 Because they must obey."* 
 
 By no latitude of the imagination, can we fancy, that 
 the incomparable, and immortal men, who, in the seven- 
 
 * Shellev.
 
 262 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 teenth century, walked England, like so many spirits 
 of a higher sphere, passed the spring-tide of their days in 
 happiness; — they, who enacted the " facinus tarn illustre," 
 of Milton, — to use the words of Wordsworth — 
 
 " The later Sydney, Marvel, Harrington, 
 
 Young Vane and others, who called Milton friend/' 
 
 or those many other illustrious characters, to whose 
 memorable example, (under God), this country hath 
 stood indebted, down to the present day, for that dogged 
 spirit of independence, which, it is to be believed, will 
 ever characterize her sons. — Could the imperious disci- 
 pline, and summary dealing of brief authority, have 
 made the wholesome element of their minds? — Could 
 they have cheerfully submitted to the tyranny of un- 
 merited castigation ? Impossible. For our own part, we 
 are free to confess, though rear'd, with exclusive care, 
 under the parental wing, in that " golden mediocrity" * of 
 station, which " nor mean, nor riotous,"! is equally re- 
 moved, from the torrid heat of the fashionable nursery, and 
 the frost-bitten atmosphere of the work-house; still, we 
 would not live our days of vassalage over again; no, not 
 to be heir to all the land, that lies between the four cor- 
 ners of broad England. 
 
 " Ah! what avails heroic deed? 
 What liberty? if no defence 
 Be won for feeble innocence. 
 Father of all ! if wilful man must read 
 His punishment in soul distress, 
 Grant to the morn of life its natural blessedness \" t 
 
 We have now to advert to circumstances, which hap- 
 pened, long antecedent to the opening of our history. 
 
 * Aurea mediocritas. — Horace. 
 
 t Ford. 
 
 :}: Wordsworth.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 263 
 
 The high constable, Hubert Vicchy,* Duke of Eissen- 
 burg, had been several years governor of Temeswar, 
 when John of Zapola died. He was the main-spring of 
 the abortive movement of Valentine Turascus, in favour 
 of the queen regent, which we briefly noticed, in our in- 
 troductory chapter. His duchess was a lady, of whom, 
 it might be difficult to say, whether the graces of her 
 person, or her mental endowments, were more admirable. 
 But these virtues were only the shining sins of a he- 
 retic. Her firm, and inquisitive understanding had not 
 shrunk from polemics ; and the new teachers, who pro- 
 fessed to revive the old truths of the Gospel, taught her 
 to abjure that admixture of error, and those " weak in- 
 ventions of the enemy," with which, they affirmed, that 
 the simplicity, and purity of the Christian faith, during 
 the long night of Gothic ignorance, had been conta- 
 minated, and overlaid. From her cradle, the daughter 
 of Veronica had the virtues, and faith of her mother 
 wound into her fair form ; and the trials of her subse- 
 quent life only rivetted those intermediate links, in the 
 chain of evidence, which bound her pious spirit to the 
 vital truths of the reformed religion. 
 
 The reader may marvel, how such a woman came to 
 unite her fate with one, who was ignorant of the lowest 
 elements of literature ; — but the wonder will subside, 
 if our fair critic will please, to look a little closer, into the 
 state of society, in Hungary, in the sixteenth century, 
 and ask herself, seriously, how she would like, to have 
 been debarred, entering the blessed state of holy matri- 
 mony, simply because the young gentleman, who soli- 
 cited the honour of her hand, happened (like most of his 
 compeers) to have left uncultivated the belles lettres ? 
 
 * The Christian appellation, which this person bears in history, is 
 Peter, for which, lest the reader should confound the principal charac- 
 ters of our tale, we have substituted the name of Hubert. We have 
 already risked introducing two Peters, which, however, is the fault of 
 their godfathers and godmothers, and none of ours.
 
 264 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 When we are told, owing- to the disorders, which accu- 
 mulated on the country, subsequent to the battle of 
 Mohacs, that no fewer than seven bishops* flourished, in 
 a most unorthodox state of incertitude, as to the dis- 
 tinctive characters of the alphabet ; it cannot be made a 
 matter of surprise, that the feudal barons, who were 
 military men, were content to repose, in the lethargy of 
 ignorance, without coveting a greater degree of erudition, 
 than was exacted, by the opinions of the age, and which, 
 they saw, might suffice their " spiritual pastors and 
 masters." If this explanation fail to reconcile the diffi- 
 culty, we can only regret, that the stubborn nature of 
 historical truths must preclude us, were we the most 
 daring legendary, from forbidding the banns. 
 
 Whether Vicchy deferred invariably to his gifted part- 
 ner's depth of sagacity, or firmness of mind, we are not 
 instructed to state ; and this expressive silence of con- 
 temporary satire, furnishes such strong presumption to 
 the contrary, as ought, by rights, to more than outweigh, 
 in the scale of evidence, any loose, and floating atoms of 
 later scandal. It is likely, however, that the natural in- 
 fluence, which a strong, will insensibly obtain, over a 
 feebler understanding, if moving in the same orbit, may 
 have exercised a salutary restraint upon Vicchy, and 
 that, on many occasions, he found the domus et placens 
 uxor, the softening sense, and silken trammels of home, 
 sustain his wavering resolution. 
 
 It was shortly after that period, v.hen his outlawry had 
 been decreed, by the states of Transylvania, that the 
 death of Veronica cut him out, from those moorings of 
 the heart, whose cable alone held his vacillating passions, 
 in the roadstead of virtue, and discretion, and set his 
 soul adrift, upon the waves of life, at the mercy of the 
 
 * These were the Bishops of Waradin, Agria, Five Churches, Nitria, 
 Javarin, Alba Julia, and Chonad. Libentius intuentur Marthara quam 
 Marcam ; malunt legere in Salnione quam in Solomone. — Alanus de 
 Art. Fred.
 
 MASuscraPT vii. 
 
 :65 
 
 first shifting gale, that sprung up, let it blow, from wliat 
 quarter of the heavens it listed. 
 
 Veronica of Eissenburg, from the time of her mother's 
 death, to the midnight hour, in which we first introduced 
 the maiden, en dishabille, to the blushes of our readers, 
 had been the constant, and cheerful companion, and 
 friend, of her blasted, dishonoured, and outcast father. 
 Whilst, close, and closer, in the clouds of adversity, and 
 error, that father wrapt himself, from the contemplation 
 of the present, and the prospect of the future, she would 
 dry those orbs, veiled by the dim suffusion of mortality,'* 
 and shed a glory, round the deepening infamy of his path, 
 as the " hastening angel" might be supposed to hallow 
 the declining footsteps of our first parents, in their soli- 
 tary way from Eden. Nor did she, at last, cease from 
 her ministering office, when the object of all her soli- 
 citude too visibly displayed the mire, and rust, which, 
 during his travail in a defiling world, his soul had 
 contracted. *' The sworded angel" turned back, at 
 the gates of paradise, and abandoned our guilty an- 
 cestors to '' the fruit of that forbidden tree, whose 
 mortal taste brought death into the world." He was 
 deterred, by the black, and heavy mists of sin, and mor- 
 tality, which, like a mantle, shrouded the horizon of this 
 low earth. Not so Veronica. — She only adhered the 
 more steadfastly, in her patient devotedness, to the 
 slightest wishes of her sire, as the faculties of mind and 
 body began to expand, and she became more sensible of 
 the debasing character of sin, and involuntarily grasped 
 the conviction of Vicchy's frailty. If his crimes were ma- 
 nifold, utter likewise was his defeature ; and, though the 
 goods of this life melted away, — though followers, and 
 friends fell off, and the whole world forsook him, — though 
 Justice shook her strong steel, and waved it, like the 
 
 * Lumina ejus mortalium rerum nube caliganlia turgamus. — 
 
 BOETHIUS. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 cherub's fiery sword of yore, for a barrier from paradise, — 
 " though the earth quaked, and the sea saw it, and fled," 
 — though the hills "reeled to and fro like a drunken 
 man," — though, w^th raven wing, Despair circled his 
 motions, and hell itself, as it were, yawned to swallow 
 him, his child (as, of old, the gentle Antigone tended her 
 blind, and wandering sire*) would prop, and lead him on, 
 amid the wilderness of life ; and, whether he pitched his 
 tabernacle in the outlaw's cave, or the peasant's hovel, 
 or was chained down to the captive's cell, there would 
 Innocence, and Love sit brooding over him, with halcyon 
 wings, to allay to peace the waters of bitterness, on which 
 his soul was tossed ; — ay, even in the central darkness 
 of a dishonoured grave, her pious offices would avail to 
 embalm, and emblazon his memory, and her affections, 
 hovering nigh, would hang about his hearse, like plumed 
 pennons. 
 
 At the time, that Vicchy was cited to surrender him- 
 self to trial, the life of his Veronica was hovering on the 
 confines of two worlds. Thus circumstanced, he na- 
 turally refused, while the vital spark " lit her mortal 
 frame," to quit her death-bed. In consequence, the 
 summary proceeding of his outlawry intervened, and in- 
 spired him, with sentiments of implacable enmity to that 
 state, which, without evidence or trial, had thus thrust 
 him, beyond the pale of her society, and the protection 
 of her laws. He vowed, in his secret soul, he would lie 
 in wait, for a day of retribution ; but his opportunities, 
 in that regard, long fluctuated, with the vicissitudes of 
 his life. As a vessel, intercepted in its course, by op- 
 posing winds, Hubert's characteristic indecision operated, 
 when his hopes were at the flood, to suspend, till the 
 time for action had escaped, his powers of volition. 
 
 " Qualiter hinc gelidus Boreas, hinc nubifer Eurus, 
 Vela trahunt, nutat mediae fortuna carinas. "t 
 
 * See the CEdipus Coloneus. 
 t Statius, Theb. lib. 1.
 
 MANUscpaPT VII. 267 
 
 This may go far to explain, why " all the courses of his 
 life were bound in shallows, and in misery." 
 
 One of the ancients* has remarked, that it is in human 
 life, as in a game at tables, — and the analogy would seem 
 to hold good in a sense, that was not contemplated. The 
 utmost skill, or the finest schemes, that can be laid by 
 human wisdom, may be alike neutralized, and perverted, 
 where the chances of the game are against us ; while, on 
 the other hand, even a series of good fortune supposes a 
 certain felicitous daring, in the person whom it befalls; and 
 the highest cast of the die were thrown in vain, unless the 
 player be gifted with the happy rashness, to seize the 
 occasion, and improve his advantage. 
 
 Somewhat in conformity, with this way of thinking, was 
 an opinion, which formerly prevailed, that Fortune ever 
 lent her aid to the prudent ;t nor should the fine and deep 
 reflection of Fontenelle, to the same purpose, be lost 
 sight of, — " Ces bons hasards," he says, " ne sont que 
 pour ceux qui jouent bien." 
 
 From all we can gather of his character, Vicchy must 
 have answered, badly. Dr. Johnson's idea of " a good 
 hater," although, in the sad varieties of his subsequent 
 career, while yielding to every temptation of circumstance, 
 he wrapped himself, from the upbraidings of his own 
 heart, by saying, and believing, that he was only varying 
 his means, the better to ascertain that vengeance, to 
 which, in reality, he had become wholly indifferent. 
 
 Whilst his prospects gradually became black, and com- 
 fortless, on all sides. Crime, alternated with superstitious 
 devotion in his bosom, as day with night, in some dark 
 cemetery. At one time, he would take Satan's wages, to 
 satisfy the idolatrous worship of gold, the arwi sacra 
 fames, which informed, and animated the minutest of his 
 undertakings, and would, soon after, appease the antagonist 
 
 * Plutarch. 
 
 t Traaiv iv(l>povov(Ti (TVfi^axn tvxV' — Frag. Vet. Poet. 
 N 2
 
 268 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 principle of his nature, by offering the accursed coin, on 
 the altar, pro remedio animcB suce. Alas ! how will not 
 fortune, and circumstance degrade the original excellence 
 of our common humanity, to a level with the foulest aspect 
 of the outer world ! How will not time break down the 
 stubborn spirit, no less than the marble column ! We 
 find the man, through whose hands once circulated the 
 revenue of a prince, coveting, in his adversity, a single 
 ducat, with such *' itchy palm," as to tamper, with his 
 soul's health, for the sake of its possession ! 
 
 For months subsequent to the death of the Duchess of 
 Eissenburg, and the outlawry of her husband, we aie 
 compelled, for want of materials, to grope our way very 
 much in the dark, during which space of time, we often 
 lose sight of Vicchy. It would seem, however, from the 
 slight, and incidental notice of contemporary annalists, 
 that he had not long taken up his abode in Poland, ere 
 the spirit of change seized him, and, after some hesitation^ 
 and the necessary delays of a few weeks, in equipping for 
 so formidable a migration, Hubert, as we shall still occa- 
 sionally call him, and his little girl, on horseback, accom- 
 panied by a guide, and two sumpter mules, for the pur- 
 pose of transporting their baggage, commenced their 
 route, upon the morning of a sultry summer's day. • Their 
 daily progress was measured, by the ability, or sluggish- 
 ness of the animals who bore them, and we have briefly to 
 pass over the interval of a fortnight, whereof, here needs 
 no account. Towards the close of that period, however, 
 our travellers fell in with an adventure, which somewhat 
 broke the monotonous agremens of their pilgrimage. 
 
 The incident, we allude to,may as well be inserted, in this 
 place, and, since it gave a fresh impulse to the ruin of 
 Vicchy, and has besides a considerable bearing, on tiie 
 mysteries of our story, we shall take leave, to lay it before 
 the reader, with some circumstantiality. 
 
 On the evening of the twelfth day, from their first setting 
 out, Vicchy, and his daughter had arrived, within a few
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII, 269 
 
 hours' travel of the city of Coloswar. The weather had all 
 along proved remarkably propitious, but this day, on the 
 contrary, the sun's disk was obscured in lurid, and accu- 
 mulated clouds, which, fallen, and diffused into a uniform 
 haze, seemed charged with matter, for tempest, and storm. 
 The ineffectual struggle of the sun's rays soon ceased; 
 and long, ere the hour, when he should have sunk below 
 the horizon, a sylvan, and mountainous country might be 
 discerned, with difficulty. Vicchy had calculated on 
 reaching Coloswar, or, at least, the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of that city, ere nightfall, but the misty twilight 
 which thus early unrolled itself, upon hill and dale, 
 and the rapid drops of rain, which, somewhat abruptly, in- 
 flicted a severe drenching on our travellers, induced them 
 to look out, with no small anxiety, for some nearer place 
 of shelter for the night. The discomforts of their situ- 
 ation, would alone have been sufficient to urge them to 
 this; but, in addition, the horse, which their guide rode, 
 had thrown his forefoot shoe, and, despite their utmost 
 vigilance, it was difficult to distinguish the direction of 
 their journey, through a country, which particles of sleet, 
 and mist, shrouded in wildering darkness. Moreover, the 
 horses could hardly keep their feet, along the tracks of 
 jungle, and knolls, intercepted, at every turn, with swelling 
 streams, lashed by the irritating elements, into sheets of 
 foam. As they struggled forward, they came up with 
 three foot passengers. Whilst crossing a narrow bridge, 
 which brought their persons sensibly nearer, Veronica 
 pointed them out, to her father, who immediately accosted 
 them, inquiring, whether they could tell of any kortsma* 
 or monastery, or other place of shelter, thereabouts, where 
 a night's lodging might be procured ? 
 
 "What would you have of us?" interrogated one of 
 the trio, in a voice, that betokened disguise. 
 
 Vicchy repeated his question. 
 
 Inn.
 
 370 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 " We are strangers in these parts, like yourselves ; but 
 I trow tliere be no hostelry, nor religious order either, be- 
 tween this, and Coloswar," was the cold, and evasive 
 response of another of these pedestrians. 
 
 " Hold well to your saddle, and we will put our horses 
 to the trot, my love," said her father, in a low voice to 
 Veronica; and then, having given his steed free head, he 
 hallooed to the guide, to keep up with them, while he, and 
 his child toiled along the broken, and dubious track, till 
 the straggling stumps, and protruding roots of old trees 
 again obliged them, to continue their journey, with a 
 slackened pace, and a guarded rein. However, they 
 breasted the fierce storm-gusts of wind, and drift, and 
 splashed through the deep brooks, which beset their way, 
 with dogged resolution, — the mind of Vicchy, infinitely 
 more tortured, with fears for his child's health, than on 
 account of his own personal sufferings, although they in- 
 cluded some inward misgivings, as to the cause of his 
 guide's prolonged separation. Presently, he mounted the 
 little girl, on his own horse, before him, and, wrapping his 
 cloak, so closely about her, as to shield her, in a great 
 degree, from the relentless dashing of the rain ; he led her 
 palfrey, with his left hand on the bridle, and thus held on 
 his way. 
 
 ^' Would you have rest, and shelter, for yourselves, and 
 weary beasts?" demanded some one, suddenly, in a rough, 
 and peculiar tone of voice, which sounded distinctly, 
 within arm's length of their horses' heads. 
 
 Vicchy started in his saddle, and, turning his eyes, 
 hastily, in the direction of the speaker, could discern, 
 (though nearly lost in shapeless darkness,) a tall figure, 
 walking by the side of the animal, on which Veronica had 
 ridden, and, at the same moment, he felt a strong hand 
 laid, upon the bridle. The voice he recognised for the 
 same, which, an hour before, had returned so evasive an 
 answer to his inquiry. " I thought, you told me erewhiles, 
 you were a stranger in these parts," observed Vicchy.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 
 
 271 
 
 " You have an ear, I wis, sir traveller," returned the 
 other : " I have subsequently been directed, to a sort of 
 manse hereabouts ; and if you, or your little one there, 
 would prefer fire, food, and shelter, to cold, hunger, and 
 a watery exit, you will, doubtless, yede ye wi' me." 
 
 The man ceased, and walked on, apparently awaiting 
 the answer of Vicchy, who, for a minute, revolved the 
 matter over, in his mind. He could not but marvel, how 
 a pedestrian, and one too, who professed to have no local 
 knowledge of the country, had contrived, for the last 
 hour, in the teeth of obstacles, which might seem insuper- 
 able, to keep up with himself, and child, notwithstanding 
 their superior facilities, for passing over the ground ; and, 
 if the difi&culty of the feat staggered him, his suspicions 
 were no less aroused, as to the motive, which prompted 
 the stranger to surmount it. He half feared, — as he recol- 
 lected, that he had companions, at the time, he first ac- 
 costed him, — that he was in the power of banditti. His 
 first impression, therefore, was to decline accompanying 
 the fellow ; but, the next instant, the storm reburst in 
 full violence, and the idea of his child being forced to 
 abide its brunt, crossed his mind, with a pang, that deter- 
 mined him, to risk accepting the man's proposal. Sup- 
 pressing, therefore, as far as he might, any appearance 
 of apprehension, he presently said ; " My good friend, 
 thine offer is fair, and we will e'en wend our way with 
 thee." 
 
 "Now, by my troth," returned the other, "from the 
 time you took to consider, it seemed to me, that you 
 had your private reasons, for not recking the deluge of 
 this mirksome night. Some folks," he added, placing his 
 hand, on the long mane* of the palfrey, and lightly 
 
 * In the time of our story, the tails and manes of Hungarian horses, 
 were let to grow as nature meant them, and were not docked, and 
 " trimly dressed " as now-a-days. See Brown's Travels in Dacia, 
 Styria, &c. London, 4to., 1688.
 
 2*2 MANUSCRIPTS OF EllDELY. 
 
 vaulting into the seat, which Veronica had lately filled : 
 " some folks, I trow, never die of hydrophobia." 
 
 " Free and easy ! " thought Vicchy, as, reining back 
 his horse, he turned his head, to look after the follower, 
 who had the care of his wealth, and baggage ; but, only 
 six yards off, all things were wrapt in darkness^ and, re- 
 suming his course, Vicchy involuntarily heaved an ap- 
 prehensive groan. 
 
 ** By the mass ! " said his officious companion, ''though 
 Fm wrong to make an oath upon it, the sight of your 
 late guide, or his beast, is past an ave, on that you may 
 take my troth, an you will." 
 
 Vicchy would not condescend to demand an explana- 
 tion ; but his fears, respecting his property, became in- 
 tolerable, and he pursued his slow, and toilsome way, in 
 a state of mental agitation, which we will not essay to 
 describe. 
 
 In a short time, having deflected a little from the 
 road, into a narrow bridle-path, a sudden turn brought 
 the party, in front of a large quadrangular edifice. The 
 imperfect light hardly admitted of Vicchy's distinguish- 
 ing even a part of the outline of the building, which, 
 however, he judged to be vast, and dreary. It was mas- 
 sively built, and, like every other fortified mansion of 
 the country,* encompassed with a deep moat. Embosomed 
 amid huge trees, on the verge of a vast forest, it lay enscon- 
 ced, apparently guarded from casual discovery, by the tan- 
 gled difficulty of its access. Their pseudo guide soon 
 alighted, opposite the immense wide portals, before which 
 the drawbridge was raised up. Here, he applied to his 
 mouth a horn, chained to a large stone pillar, and blew a 
 loud blast. Presently a voice demanded, what they wanted. 
 Their conductor took on himself the task of explanation. 
 
 * Comme toutes les autres for teresses du pays entoure d'un grand 
 fosse fort large et qui forme une petite riviere. Mem. du Comte Bet- 
 lem. Niklos.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 273 
 
 "Three benighted travellers," he replied : " my master 
 and his child, and myself, their guide, crave shelter for 
 the night, from the inclemency of the weather." 
 
 A brief period of anxiety, toVicchy, followed, which was 
 determined by the slow lowering of the rattlingdrawbridge. 
 This (the unknown assuming the lead,) they crossed on 
 horseback; when, almost immediately, the loud groaning 
 of the laden windlasses, announced, that the bridge was 
 again being uplifted. And now, torches glared around our 
 travellers, who, after dismounting, were ushered through 
 a heavy gateway, into a large, low-roofed apartment, 
 where a " liveried army " of menials, in a double line, 
 awaited them. Her father, who had assisted Veronica 
 out of the saddle, and still retained her, in his arms, 
 well nigh dropped the child, to the ground, as his eyes 
 lit on the person of his mysterious conductor, which the 
 torch-light gave to view. For a moment, he deemed he 
 looked, indeed, upon the very guide, who had accompa- 
 nied him, from Warsaw. The habit, which was after a 
 peculiar fashion, Vicchy recalled, to the minutest parti- 
 cular, and, though he could not account for the meta- 
 morphosis, a dreadful suspicion, almost amounting to 
 conviction, crept over him, that it was the identical garb, 
 worn, by his absent follower. The physiognomy, how- 
 ever, of this man, was evidently of a different cast, al- 
 though an immense black patch, which hood-winked one 
 eye, and deformed half the visage, together with the 
 long flaxen hair, streaming, in thick profusion, over the 
 forehead, and bushy eye-brows, made it difficult, to dis- 
 tinguish the exact lineaments of a countenance so 
 strangely disfigured, and disguised. As Vicchy gazed, in 
 horrified amazement, he observed the stranger take, from 
 the pocket of his outward vest, a green scarf, and care- 
 lessly wrap it round the arm, near his right elbow, to 
 cover certain sanguine gouts, which discoloured the 
 sleeve. 
 
 " Certes, that was an ugly fall, honourable master, on 
 N 5
 
 274 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 the descent of the bridge yonder," said the man, ad- 
 dressing himself to Vicchy, " but for the intervention of 
 St. John Nepamacene,* you had lost a guide whose 
 value — but, perdy, that were better left for others to tell 
 of, only, I trow, you might not readily have found a sub- 
 stitute." 
 
 "You bleed; are you much hurt, friend?" inquired 
 one of the swarm of lacqueys, who flocked around the 
 party. 
 
 " Not to signify, — a graze of the skin, — thank you, and 
 God be praised ! 1 am no chicken ;" responded the stran- 
 ger ; " no bones broken, — only a bruise, sir; yet who 
 v/ould think of as thorough-paced a garron,* I assure 
 you, as any on the roads, serving one such a jade's trick ? 
 A stumble, sir, a stumble ; but, gramercie ! the saint was 
 standing by at the time, do ye see ; so I shall survive this 
 bout." 
 
 Vicchy 's immediate impulse was to denounce the villain ; 
 but the consummate effrontery, his conduct exhibited, so 
 oppressed, and, as it were, overawed the magnat, that 
 he felt disinclined, to proceed to that extremity. While 
 he hesitated how to act, an old domestic, of grave and 
 formal deportment, entered the vestibule, and scanned 
 our belated travellers, with an eye of minute observation. 
 He came to announce, that Count Rodna, the proprietor 
 of the mansion, would be happy to receive the gentle- 
 man, and his daughter. Vicchy, retaining Veronica by 
 the hand, prepared to accompany the solemn seneschal, 
 for such was the man's office, — when a word, lowly spoken 
 in his ear, caused him to start, and turn his head. 
 
 " Eissenburg ! " whispered the fearful individual, who 
 had conducted him to the house, and who now seized his 
 arm, as he was about to pass, through the door of the 
 
 * The tutelary statue of this saint is very generally placed near 
 bridges, he having been thrown over the bridge, at Prague, 
 t Garron, — hack.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 275 
 
 apartment: " Eissenburg ! Outlaw! — I penetrate your 
 disguise ; breathe a syllable that may harm me, and, by 
 immortal vengeance ! the crow shall batten on thy stiffen- 
 ing corse, from the highest gibbet, in the city of Coloswar, 
 ere to-morrow's sun set. But keep a close tongue in 
 your head, sir duke, and I, on my part, will lock thy 
 secret, where only the Mano, and myself are like to find 
 it." Having thus spoken, the man turned on his heel ; 
 and Vicchy, at once surprised, indignant, and alarmed, 
 hastened, with his daughter, after the functionary. 
 
 The ideas, which filled the head of the miscreant, who 
 tarried behind, were much to the following purpose : — 
 
 *'So I have cowed our high constable, — there's nothing 
 sooner transmutes a man of metal to a coward, than the 
 thought of these young brats, with their milk-white 
 faces ! How I scared his dukeship, with his own man's 
 livery ! — my 'haviour overpowered him ! — Ha ! I have sel- 
 dom found it fail me : let me see ; — this Vicchy is, evi- 
 dently, a feeble-minded lord, and so men report him ; 
 and now, or I greatly err, the lord's a hetyar,- — a 
 betyar — so — and who ever heard speak of a beggar chaf- 
 fering, when gold was to be got at ? Every man, I opine, 
 hath his purchase; and be he poor, his conscience is less 
 costly ; besides, I have but to say the word, and, he 
 knows, his life is forfeited. All things considered, he'll 
 scarce sleep to-night — how, if I sound him ? For Pereny, 
 and that boy, — they shall, they must be murdered ! My 
 visit here, shall not be for nought ; — but Wurmser's mis- 
 adventure was ill-timed ; I could have better spared him, 
 after the deed. To decapitate son, as well as father, 
 and make aw^ay with their heads, undetected and un- 
 harmed, through the various hindrances of the barrica- 
 doed dwelling, and that without assistance, would seem 
 hardly feasible. This Herezegf is a proper person for 
 my purpose ; and him, my good genius hath sent me, at 
 
 * Pauvre diable. t Duke.
 
 2/6 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 a pinch. I have only to superintend, and regulate, the 
 first paroxysms of his consternation, and despair, and, 
 peradventure, I may render both subservient to the ac- 
 complishment of the emperor's mandate. If, while I speed 
 Peter Pereny to his long, last reckoning, I could but in- 
 duce this weak nobleman, for love, — no, that will never 
 do, — well, lucre, — or, egad ! out of downright terror, to 
 puff out the light of the young whelp, — his duplicate, 
 the affair might be compassed without noise, or risk, on 
 my part: it is not unlikely; — I'll try for it, at all 
 events." The train of his thoughts was interrupted, by 
 the entrance of several of the household : " So, here are 
 those," he muttered to himself, " who must instruct me 
 in the ' whereabouts,' of this vast chateau ;" and the ras- 
 cal immediately addressed himself to the busy menials, 
 who were spreading the table, with dried caviare, veget- 
 ables, and fruit, in the Christian spirit of compromise, 
 significant of catholic hospitality, on a fast-day. 
 
 Let us return to Vicchy, who, with his child, emerged 
 again into the sweeping blast, and was marshalled, by the 
 solemn functionary aforesaid, across an open area, or 
 plot of grass, to a massive door, which gave access to the 
 main body of the building. Thence they were introduced, 
 through a spacious ante-room, into the presence of the 
 venerable proprietor of the mansion. 
 
 At the upper end of a large, and handsome apartment,, 
 the folding doors of which were thrown open, to receive 
 Vicchy, and his daughter, was seated Count Rodna, who 
 rose on their entrance, and, with reserved, though 
 stately courtesy, advanced ci few steps, to meet our tra- 
 vellers. With that undetinable, and unconstrained air, 
 that maniere d'etre, which decisive, and conscious worth, 
 or superiority of station, naturally induces, he begged to 
 be informed, how he might best evince the sincerity of 
 the welcome, he tendered? After briefly returning thanks, 
 Vicchy expressed an anxious wish, that his little girl 
 should instantly retire, and divest herself of her dripping
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 277 
 
 clothes. Accordingly, Veronica was committed to the 
 motherly care of a female domestic, and, under her au- 
 spices, withdrew. Vicchy, his parental feelings being 
 thus relieved, proceeded to examine, with a degree of 
 wonder, deepened by involuntary respect, the person of 
 his ancient host. He seemed to have numbered at least 
 as many years of life, as the two wisest of men * have as- 
 signed, for the limit of human health, and vigour, at which 
 climacteric, our spiritual horizon dilates itself before us, and 
 whence the most hale, and strong are bid to contemplate, 
 in a deepening perspective of decay, and imbecilitv, the 
 brief remainder of their mortal tarriance, and the final 
 close of a protracted pilgrimage. His habit was becoming, 
 though not costly, and rather appeared under, than over, 
 his rank, as lord of that mansion. A valuable turquoise 
 ring might be discerned, on tlie middle finger of his right 
 hand, — it was the only ornament, he wore. A cap, or 
 bonnet, of green velvet, sat liglitly on his head, which a 
 few wintry hairs, the livery of age, could hardly be said 
 to exempt from total baldness. His height rose scarcely 
 above the middle standard, but it might be gathered, 
 from the compactness of his figure, though slightly bent 
 by years, that, in the prime of manhood, his person must 
 have been peculiarly adapted for jousts, tournaments, and 
 other athletic exercises of the tilt-yard. The whole cast 
 of his form, and countenance, might have afforded an 
 artist an admirable model, for the king of Pylos. An in- 
 describable halo of majesty, distinguished his every step, 
 and animated every gesture of his body. His very na- 
 ture, however, mellowed, by the gentle influence of Time, 
 or, it might be, subdued, by misfortune, appeared cir- 
 cumfused by that " divinity," which, in other days, was 
 thought to " hedge a king." 
 
 There was, indeed, a something, which might well be 
 termed regal, in the light of his full, hazel eye, chas- 
 
 * Solon and Solomon.
 
 278 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 tened, as it was, by long abstinence from command, and 
 worldly dignity, and softened, by liis continued, and ex- 
 emplary observance, of certain ascetic rites of the Romish 
 church. So filled was the mind of Vicchy, with the im- 
 pression of venerable grandeur, which the appearance of 
 Count Rodna, unbowed, either by the weight of years, or 
 luxurious indulgence, was ever sure to inspire, that it 
 was not, till after some brief interval, that he took even a 
 cursory view of the apartment, into which he had been 
 ushered. The pannels, on every side, were framed of 
 polished cedar wood, heavily, though highly, wrought. 
 The lofty roof was rudely, and somewhat fantastically 
 carved into ornament, which, radiating, from the centre 
 of the ceiling, to the loaded cornices, became confounded 
 with their elaborate sculpturings. A coat of plate- 
 armour, and steel bonnet, corresponding to it; a dag, 
 and two-handed sword, set with precious stones, contri- 
 buted to relieve the gloomy splendour of the antique 
 chimney-piece, over which they hung. A range of nar- 
 row cells or niches, each hallowed, by the image of 
 some Romish saint, glittering in the impotency of paint, 
 and tinsel, (the Lares of the Catholic church), had been 
 skilfully carved, in the wooden entablature of the heavy 
 mantel. Some half dozen iron cressets, branching from 
 the wainscoat, at respective distances, lit up the cham- 
 ber. Three deep narrow windows, enriched with embla- 
 zoned glass, were now draperied from view, whilst, before 
 each arched recess, the voluminous curtains flung down, 
 from their faded festoons, in many an ample fold, the 
 long-suspended loopings, and fringes, which swept the 
 inlaid floor. 
 
 The old gentleman shortly broke the silence, by saying, 
 — "You have incurred no inconvenience, I trust, sir, 
 nor injury, from the effects of the storm, which a night's 
 good rest will not cause you to forget; indeed, if man 
 knew his real interest, he would rather pray for these 
 rubs, and temporary annoyances, than wish to be exempt
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 279 
 
 from them : they teach him to seta just value, on his 
 own condition, and enhance, and give a zest to, those or- 
 dinary blessing's, which, otherwise, grown common, are 
 conceived, in the pride of possession, to be his inherent 
 right, till his soul forgets to thank the Giver of all good- 
 ness." 
 
 Vicchy, who, immediately looked on his host, as a very 
 saint-like personage, made a suitable reply ; and then he 
 could not avoid intimating, how great was his anxiety, re- 
 specting the property, in gold pieces, and moveables, he 
 had entrusted to the charge of his missing follower. 
 
 ^' On this score, I wis," answered Count Rodna, "you 
 may set your mind at rest, sir merchant, (for such was 
 the character, which Vicchy personated) our neighbour- 
 hood is, happily, seldom visited, by those marauding 
 troopers, of the Bloody Peter, which, elsewhere, desolate 
 the land; and the bands of the Cyganis, with whom, 
 truth to say, we are somewhat more troubled, have not 
 been heard of, of late. Your servitor, 1 trow, will join 
 you at Coloswar, so let not his absence occasion you un- 
 easiness." 
 
 Vicchy, who called to mind the bloody garments of 
 his guide, sported like a trophy, by that daring mis- 
 creant, to whose minatory language his ears yet rung, 
 could not exactly reciprocate these anticipations ; but 
 the terrible retaliation, which was in the villain's power, 
 and which he had threatened to execute, should he be im- 
 peached, induced Vicchy, with whatever reluctance, to con- 
 fine his apprehensions, for the present, to his own bosom. 
 Count Rodna, misapprehending the nature of his co- 
 gitation, after a short pause, resumed, " Nay, sir mer- 
 chant," he said, and a quiet smile lighted his noble fea- 
 tures, " we will, nathless, have the country scoured by 
 daybreak, in search of intelligence ; but, prithee," he 
 added, pointing to a sort of refection, which had been 
 prepared, on a side table, " be seated, and partake of 
 such poor cheer, as our buttery can supply."
 
 28.0 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 " For myself," continued the hareschina*, *' I were loath 
 to break my fast, on a day of mortification, more especially 
 at this season, which I ever set apart to expiate, by bit- 
 ter penance, fatal, and heinous sins, done, sir, in my days 
 of pride, and thoughtlessness, — done — horrible remem- 
 brance !" — and the speaker's voice assumed a tone of 
 deep, and solemn earnestness, — " in opposition to the ex- 
 press commands of Heaven, whose nuncio, the well-be- 
 loved of Jesus, came down, from on high, and, before the 
 assembled congregation, reproached me, for my past 
 transgressions, and warned me, to desist from the crime, 
 I meditated. In the face of the nation, was I solemnly 
 rebuked, and the heaviest malisons were invoked, as the 
 penalty of my future disobedience ! and, oh God ! in 
 the face of the world, by my vain glory, and sacrilegious 
 daring, I reaped, and drew down on my head those ana- 
 themas, which timely humiliation, and repentance, might 
 have averted, and since, an exile, as you see, have 1, for 
 eight-and-twenty years, bewailed, in sackcloth and ashes, 
 my disregard of the apostle, and its direful conse- 
 quence." He ceased, and crossing his arms meekly on 
 his breast, appeared absorbed in thought, for a few mo- 
 ments : while Vicchy was too deeply impressed, with re- 
 verence for his host, to break the silence. It was not 
 long, ere Count Rodna resumed, with more cheerfulness : 
 " I have entered into these details, sir merchant, to ac- 
 count for my barren hospitality. I am sure, you will 
 allow my peculiar obligations, to excuse my absence — 
 but be seated;" and, with these words, the reverend per- 
 sonage withdrew. 
 
 Our traveller had small appetite for the vesper-brod,f 
 provided for him, and shortly after, the seneschal, before- 
 mentioned, attended, to show him his bed-chamber. 
 After having ascended a blind, and winding staircase, the 
 two passed along a corridor, off which, several doors, on 
 
 * Haieschina; head of the household. i Supper.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 281 
 
 either side, issued into different chambers. The wind,which 
 had somehow found, or forced, a vent, at the extremity 
 of the passage, rushed by, with such fitful violence, that 
 the light, which was borne, by the domestic, who pre- 
 ceded Hubert, was now, wholly dulled, and anon, flared, 
 with precarious brightness. Once, as the man paused, 
 to shield the flickering taper, a tall figure, wrapped in 
 the habit of a monk, and having an immense leaden cru- 
 cifix, suspended from his girdle, suddenly passed by 
 Vicchy, whose reverted eye was still pursuing the ob- 
 scure shape, as it receded, like a spirit, into the darkness ; 
 when a low, arched door, opening upon the gallery, 
 slowly revolved, and a person, whom he conceived to be 
 Count Rodna, reclosed it, though not, before he caught a 
 glimpse of another individual, kneeling, in the posture of 
 devotion, before a large picture of the Virgin Mary. The 
 gusts of wind having died away, they again pressed for- 
 ward, and presently reached the sleeping apartment, al- 
 lotted to our traveller. 
 
 Left to himself, Vicchy immediately secured the door, 
 so far as two strong bolts permitted, and proceeded to 
 revolve over those events of the past day, which bore 
 down his mind, with the most dismal forebodings. For 
 awhile, he balanced in his thoughts, whether, if, in the 
 course of the next morning, there were no tidings of his 
 guide, he would not disclose to his host the presumptive 
 proof, he thought, he possessed, of the stranger's guilt. 
 Then the vengeance, which had been threatened recurred 
 to him, and the vile calculation, on which the miscreant 
 had acted, assured his safety ; as, of yore, the " vitrea 
 forma" was wont to shield the hunter of the tigress ; * 
 for the poignant idea of the helpless prospects of his 
 child, were he to perish, " puzzled the will," and Hu- 
 
 * To avoid the rage of the tigress, says Pomponius Mela, the hunter 
 would cast before him a mirror. The reflected image, being mistaken for 
 her young, would distract the attention of the parent, et sic ipse (the 
 hunter) /i/gi/.
 
 282 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 bert's strong resolution to obtain justice, " with this 
 regard, lost the name of action." Presently, worn by 
 the fighting of contrary emotions, our traveller addressed 
 himself to his devotions, and afterwards, threw his wea- 
 ried body, on the bed. The mental agitation, and bodily 
 exertion , which had harassed , and wearied him, for so many 
 hours, soon produced their usual effect, and the train of 
 gloomy ideas, which haunted his mind, subsided in a 
 perturbed repose. 
 
 On his re-appearance, next morning, Vicchy, was 
 greeted, by Count Rodna, with a piece of intelli- 
 gence, which, however he might have apprehended 
 the event, severely afflicted him, owing to its cruel 
 concomitancy, with the total destruction of his fortunes. 
 Persons, who had been out, making inquiries respecting 
 the missing follower of our travellers, had just returned, 
 bearing with them two naked corpses of murdered men. 
 Vicchy, unheedful of the monk, with a leaden cross, who 
 sat near, bent in shuddering, and freezing conviction, over 
 the bodies, and readily identified the person of one, for 
 that of his guide. Count Rodna understood enough of 
 the human heart, to know that grief is, more or less, a 
 sacred thing, let it proceed from what cause it may ; so, 
 in silence, he motioned to the monk, whose presence we 
 before mentioned, and who, tightening his girdle of ropes 
 about his loins, retired, with the venerable host. Sup- 
 porting his elbows, on his knees, with his head bowed 
 down, on his two hands, in a manner that shaded his face, 
 sat the impoverished noble, locked in that attitude of 
 quelled, and speechless dejection, which " whispers the 
 o'erfraught heart, and bids it break." Verily, 'tis an easy 
 thing to read, with indifference, of the misfortunes of our 
 fellow-creatures, besides that, to be " steeped in poverty 
 to the very lips," may not be contemplated, by the youth- 
 ful enthusiast, in that hideous light, in which, a greater 
 experience of the common thoroughfares of life, sooner 
 or later, will instruct him how to regard it. From the spe-
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 283 
 
 culative, and the young, the visitation of poverty, in the 
 fulness of his power, may draw down little compassion 
 on the sufferer ; not that their hearts are incapable of 
 sympathy, but because, from the accident of their posi- 
 tion in society, they are, happily, incompetent to estimate 
 the import of the term, or to comprehend its hard, and 
 coarse significance. Knowledge, of whatsoever kind, is 
 vague, and superficial until it he felt ; until, according to 
 the sublime tragedian, * it comes to us by suffering f : 
 and the science of adversity, in all its bearings, can only 
 be adequately appreciated by that man, who has himself 
 gone through its degrading elements. " We must feel, if 
 we would know." May the gentle reader, who, perchance, 
 revels in the wantonness of wealth, never experience 
 those realities, whose horrid apprehension shot icicles, 
 through the heart of Hubert ! May he never graduate in 
 a school, where the knowledge of mankind is the harsh, 
 and miserable lesson to be conned ! May the idea of 
 poverty still associate itself, with classical, and heart- stir- 
 ring recollections ; such as the integrity of Fabricius, the 
 patriotism of Cincinnatus, or the genius of Alfred — and 
 may he never come into close contact, with its rending, 
 and calamitous details ! But really these diverticula X 
 will never do : let us return to our tale. 
 
 Suddenly, Vicchy felt the arms of some one clasp him 
 round the neck, and, roused, by this intimation of her 
 presence, for whose sake, he chiefly regretted, the utter 
 bankruptcy of his means, he raised his head, and beheld 
 Veronica, who had crept to his side, and who now looked up 
 to him, with eyes, whose ethereal sapphire, the very soul of 
 innocence seemed to inhabit. Parting her beautiful hair, 
 on either side of her forehead, he held her from him, for a 
 moment, as he perused, with parental fondness, the ten- 
 
 * Eschylus. 
 
 t d'lKa ck Tolg, jxsv TvaOovaiv fiaOeXp eTrippiirei. — AFAM. 
 
 t A diverticulo repetatur fabula. — Juvenal, Sat. xv. v. 72.
 
 284 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 der, and heavenly expression of the damsel's countenance. 
 Her eyes, upturned, glistened with sensibility, and Vicchy, 
 drawing her fairy form nearer to him, kissed away their 
 moisture, and then, pressing her convulsively to his breast, 
 nature no longer stood rebuked, but vindicated her soft 
 prerogative. The presence of his child, her innocent 
 endearments, smote him, even, like the wand of the holy 
 messenger in the desert, loosening the hidden springs of 
 feeling, and " he wept — he wept !" And oh ! those mo- 
 ments of rapture, when the deep fountains of the sealed - 
 up heart overflow their mounds. Ye know not — ye, 
 who never, in the course of your lives, felt for another's 
 woe, whose beam of prosperity, amidst the night of this 
 evil world, hath never failed you— whose nature is en- 
 crusted under the forms, and habitudes of social selfish- 
 ness — ye know not the luxury of such grief; else, would 
 ye almost barter the insipid common-places of a state of 
 existence, which shuts out all casualty, and woe, for the 
 joys of vicissitude, and change, and quit the dull round of 
 sated wishes, and palled desires, to taste those transports, 
 ^' few and far between," v^^hich charm away adversity. 
 
 " Father, why do you weep, and turn away your face ?" 
 asked Veronica, as the tears coursed one another, down 
 her own pale cheeks. 
 
 '* My dear, henceforth we are pensioners on the casual 
 charity of every passing stranger," sobbed the parent, 
 directing towards her, a look of smothered agony ; " every 
 ducat, I had in the world, was rapt from me, in the storm 
 last night." 
 
 " God's dispensations must be acquiesced in, father, 
 you know ; but never mind being poor, for if you will let 
 me, I will beg for you, and labour for you, and were I a 
 man, I'd fight for you ; but, as it is, o' the long evenings, I 
 will sing, and dance, and never doubt, we will be as 
 merry as crickets, when you will see, how happy I can be 
 in your smiles — if you will but smile — and how good a girl!"
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII, 285 
 
 Vicchy strained the youthful speaker to his heart — 
 " Bless you, love !" he said, in a voice of the keenest 
 anguish, when the child resumed, more confidently — 
 
 " A pin for being- rich ! 'tis being good, makes the heart 
 jovial, which is every thing we need care about. Were we 
 an emperor, joy were all : and being wicked, the emperor 
 tastes it not; so that you see, dear father, the sinful man, 
 set off, with all the trim of his greatness, might well envy 
 the virtuous pauper, though in rags — 'tis just so, and you 
 smile." 
 
 The artless philosophy of his innocent child found its 
 way to the heart of Vicchy; he could not reply, but bent 
 over her, in melting tenderness. Their tears flowed toge- 
 ther, and perhaps those of the father were not altogether 
 tears of sorrow. Somewhat tranquillized, by having 
 yielded to this burst of natural emotion, they sat down to 
 their melancholy meal, which, being discussed, Vicchy 
 was left to his private meditations. '* Yes," thought the 
 fond father, as the door closed, on the obedient child, *' I 
 am still rich in blessings, which outvalue all I've lost, 
 while she is left me ! Heaven forefend that my evil destiny 
 drag her along with it, to ruin !" A tear, he was unable to 
 repress, stole from his eye, and he turned to the window. 
 
 The storm of the preceding evening seemed to have in- 
 creased in violence — the high sounding winds whistled 
 loudly, and mournfully, through the branches of theforest — 
 the dark, red clouds enveloped the face of earth, 
 whilst their sulphureous appearance served to indicate, 
 that the tempest had not yet exhausted itself. 
 
 We should have mentioned, that a message had been 
 conveyed from Count Rodna, during their repast, re- 
 commending Vicchy, and his daughter, not to think, for 
 that day, of exposing themselves, to the rage of the 
 weather. 
 
 Let us draw a veil over the early ebullition of Vicchy's 
 feelings, as he contemplated, in dim perspective, the 
 horrible realities of the future. The state of his mind
 
 286 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 found its apt prototype, in the elementary din, and 
 clang, which, like an ancient chorus, or overture of an 
 opera seria of some master hand, voiced a hollow, and 
 responsive, cadence to the fatal, and mysterious drama, 
 now unfolding, within that retired dwelling, and howled a 
 funeral anthem, over the lost, and last child of the race of 
 Eissenburg. So thought Vicchy, and he might have vented 
 his bitter meditations in the words of Zanga — 
 
 " Rage on ye winds ! burst douds ! and waters roar ! 
 You bear a just resemblance of my fortune, 
 And suit the gloomy habit of my soul.' 
 
 As he stood at the casement, now gazing, unconsciously, 
 at the continuous waterfall, from the eaves of the building, 
 and now, shrinking, at the lightning, as it quivered be- 
 tween the boles, and dripping foliage of the forest; he was 
 startled to behold the figure of his sanguinary guide, emerge, 
 from the shadow of the trees. The accomplished ruffian 
 crossed the drawbridge, and, shortly after, glided, into the 
 apartment. As the door, through which he passed, was 
 behind Vicchy, and he trod, with a soft step, the notice of 
 that unhappy man was solicited, by a slight tap, on the 
 shoulder, ere he was aware of his approach. Vicchy re- 
 coiled involuntarily, as if an adder had stung him, but, 
 recollecting himself, he endeavoured to suppress his 
 natural feelings, whilst the other, without shifting his 
 position, made a slight obeisance, and smiled derisively. 
 
 *' Fellow," demanded Vicchy; *' How came you by those 
 garments, which were my guide's ?" 
 
 *' Egad, my lord duke, you owe me some thanks," 
 answered the man. 
 
 " Thanks, villain ! a halter rather," returned Vicchy. 
 
 *' That were an ungrateful acknowledgment, for having 
 saved your life," observed the stranger. 
 
 *' Saved my life !" repeated Vicchy, contemptuously. 
 
 " Even so," replied the other, taking from his pocket a 
 slip of paper, which he unfolded, and read aloud. It 
 appeared from this, and other documents, fallen into the
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 287 
 
 possession of the unknown, that the official, whose faith 
 Vicchy had never distrusted, contemplated betraying the 
 outlawed nobleman, as soon as he had trepanned him, by 
 a pretended ignorance of his rank, into the city of Colos- 
 war. That this man was a confidential agent of the autho- 
 rities, was so clearly evidenced, as not to admit of a doubt. 
 Thus, that very stroke, which had like to have stunned 
 Vicchy, with its sudden infliction, proved a direct inter- 
 vention of Providence, in his favour. Oh ! ever may 
 the pious mind observe, in the blow of adversity, however 
 acute its momentary agony, if not a prominent, at least, 
 a covert blessing ; and where we sometimes fail to recon- 
 cile the mysterious dispensations of Heaven, let us turn 
 an eye of faith, on those chastisements, which may seem 
 unmerited, remembering, that the object of our merciful 
 Father, in taking from the Christian the world, is to give 
 him, himself, and that his ways, concern the trappings and 
 baubles of time, no farther, than these might work out, in 
 joy or sorrow, our everlasting happiness.* 
 
 " However you meant the deed, I must needs own, 
 you are entitled to my thanks," said Vicchy, when, at 
 length, the extremity of his surprise, left him room for 
 speech. "Fill up the measure of the obligation, and 
 restore me the property, committed to the charge of him, 
 whom, it seems, you have murdered and rifled." 
 
 The stranger laughed outright — "■ By Saint Nicholas ! 
 that's a modest request ; and you prefer it with a face, as 
 if it were conscionable. I cannot choose but laugh. Be- 
 cause I have reprieved your life, does it follow, that I am 
 to return you my booty?" 
 
 "What you call your booty," answered Vicchy, some- 
 what angrily, " consists of pieces of gold, and certain 
 moveables, which are mine, do you see, — my property, 
 friend, and" 
 
 * La religion est la fin de tous les desseins de Dieu sur la terre. — 
 Massillon.
 
 288 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 *' Not SO fast, my good lord," interrupted the other. 
 *' In the present condition of Erdely, there is a sort of 
 general scramble, during which, men will not wait the 
 sanction of a legal sentence, to seize, what they can lay 
 their hands on. Your property that was, is become 
 mine, by the right of conquest; were the laws enforced, 
 yours, it might scarcely be, pending your outlawry ; 'tis 
 mine, or the state's, at all events." 
 
 Vicchy groaned audibly. 
 
 " Nevertheless," proceeded the man, *' I am of a 
 pitiful disposition, and will do that, which, you may 
 take your oath, the government never would. I will 
 give you back your property, without the mulct of so 
 much, as a single hongree !" The eyes of Vicchy sparkled, 
 with thankfulness, and surprise. " I will," concluded 
 the stranger — ''I will, by G — d I" 
 
 " That hath a better sound," began Vicchy ; '' though, 
 indeed, I can never sufficiently testify " He hesi- 
 tated, and the other seized the moment, to break in. 
 
 *' Don't be too sure of that, my lord duke," he said ; 
 '' there is a trifling boon that, in return, I'd ask of you, 
 which, I flatter myself, you will not think of refusing." 
 
 '* Name it," said Vicchy, " and, if it be within 
 compass of possibility, and the competence of a noble- 
 man, and a good catholic, you may command me." 
 
 '^ Um !" ejaculated the stranger, looking cautiously 
 around him, as he drew, from the innermost folds of his 
 vest, a roll of parchment, which appeared to be closely 
 written over, on one side. The stranger held the broad 
 sheet before him, and, after casting a jealous glance 
 around, was about to read it aloud, when a forked stream 
 of lightning, darting by the window, dimmed his vision. 
 Vicchy shrunk from the lurid flame, whilst the other 
 smiled disdainfully. Again, in a brief second of time, 
 another fierce, and sulphuric flash enveloped earth, and 
 heaven, smashing, into shivers, the gorgeous, and em- 
 blazoned panes, that filled the compartments of the case-
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 289 
 
 ment, within whose deep recess they were stationed. 
 The volley of thunder, that directly reverberated along 
 the heavens, shook the building, from its pinnacle to its 
 very basement. A bolt had fallen. Vicchy lay stretched 
 on the ground, while his lip faintly muttered a pater- 
 noster. The weighty armour, suspended over the mantel- 
 piece, was loosened, and fell to the pavement, with a 
 tremendous clash, and the murderer himself was brought 
 down, to the posture of prayer, with his one hand 
 pressed against his forehead, the other, clasping the 
 parchment, he had instinctively thrust, within the bosom 
 of his dress. If his aim was to preserve the instrument, 
 he must have been too slow, or the lightning was too 
 instantaneous, for, the next minute, he started to his 
 feet, and drew forth his hand ; — his eyes rolled from 
 the empty palm to the floor, where lay the blasted rem- 
 nant of the parchment, scorched, — shrivelled to a cinder. 
 It was at that moment that Veronica rushed forward, 
 and threw herself into her father's arms, as he slowly 
 arose from the ground. Amongst others, who, at the 
 same time, crowded into the room, Avas the venerable 
 Count Rodna, who, raising the long spear from the ground , 
 regarded it with a mournful aspect. 
 
 '^ Fell was the dint, which laid thee low, my brave 
 sword! Donald," he added, addressing the seneschal , 
 " bid some one replace these mailed pieces." Tlien, 
 turning to Vicchy, he said, " My experience hath been 
 long and various, sir merchant, but it may not parallel 
 an hour like this ; never, in my memory, did the wrath 
 ful skies so loudly vent their thunder. Trust me, some 
 blot, some foulness in creation, needs cleansing ; yes, 
 there is a cause." 
 
 " What cause ?" said Vicchy, w^ho, occupied with his 
 daughter, was hardly aware he spoke. 
 
 " Crime, sir, crime, that should be searched, and rooted 
 out," returned Count Rodna, with solemn dignity of as- 
 pect ; — and now, the visiting blasts of Heaven are deal- 
 ing with it ; else, why these horrors ?" 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 The murderer here half-aiidibly interposed his opinion. 
 " If I might presume to speak," he said, " I should 
 guess, the old gentleman must know best, since perdy, 
 the ground we tread's his own." 
 
 Count Rodna looked at the man, with some surprise, 
 but shortly moved away, to address himself to a tall, ma- 
 jestic-looking person, who, evidently, from his superior 
 habit, and commanding presence, formed no part of the 
 hospitable foreigner's establishment. He, we speak of, 
 stood, for a while, in the doorway, surveying, with search- 
 ing eye, and reserved mien, the characteristic group, whom 
 the general terror had collected together. He now ad- 
 vanced a few steps, into the centre of the apartment, to 
 meet Count Rodna. There was something distingue in 
 the manner of this individual, which was calculated, in 
 no ordinary degree, to arrest, and concentrate all the at- 
 tention of the beholder. Since his character, and for- 
 tunes, will be found to be connected with the mysteries 
 of our story, we must here take leave, in order to clear 
 the subsequent transactions, to describe, as succinctly, as 
 is in our power, his form, and features. We should apo- 
 logize, however, to the rest of the company, and assem- 
 bled household, for leaving them transfixed in their several 
 attitudes, and occupations, as if by the horn of Oberon. 
 
 The personage, in question, was, at the time our story 
 introduces him, of middle age. His dress might well have 
 been worn, by the proudest aristocrat in Hungary ; but 
 the wearer became it, with such dignified ease, as if his 
 vestments were beneath his consideration. The cast of 
 his countenance owned an assumption of lofty superiority, 
 and was indicative of an unbending, and overbearing dis- 
 position, still its expression hardly denoted a bad heart. 
 He was of majestic height, and his port was lordly, and 
 commanding. Every motion, however unconstrained, be- 
 spoke his sense of personal importance. A warrior's, and 
 a statesman's experience, dwelt on the expression of his 
 foreliead. His eye, however, gleamed with a wandering, 
 and unsettled light, expressive of an instable, and vacil-
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 291 
 
 lating character. On his brow, at the moment, there was 
 a cast of anxiety ; and his lips were compressed, as in 
 thought. 
 
 " His gathered brow and lips. 
 Wreathed by long scorn, did only sneer, and frown, 
 With hue like that, when some great painter dips 
 His pencil in the gloom of earthquake and eclipse." * 
 
 We will detain the narrative no longer. The murderer 
 approached near, and nearer, to where Vicchy was hanging 
 over his child, till he stood beside that nobleman, when 
 seizing his arm, he spake, in a low, though piercing tone. 
 *' Do you know that man?" he inquired. 
 
 ^' Know whom?" demanded Vicchy. The other guard- 
 edly cast a look towards the centre of the room. Vicchy 
 followed slowly, with his eyes, the furtive, but withering- 
 glance of the unknown, till they fell upon the person, with 
 whom Count Rodna had been conversing. As they 
 finally settled there, in a steady gaze, his countenance 
 lighted up, — with recognition. He saw the same man, 
 of whom, the preceding night, he had caught a glimpse, 
 at prayer. Regarding him now, however, with more at- 
 tention, Vicchy recoiled apace, as he recollected that 
 the memorable occasion, on which he had last been in his 
 company, was, when the Princess Beatrice, in the august 
 presence of the ambassador of Solyman, and the mag- 
 nats of Hungary, had solemnly accepted the noble for 
 her affianced husband. 
 
 " Know him! ay, surely ; he is Peter Pereny," answered 
 Vicchy, at the same time falling back, towards the window. 
 "The very individual, whose bride you made away 
 with,'' dryly rejoined the other, still at his elbow. 
 
 "Liar!" hotly ejaculated Vicchy, The loud tone at- 
 tracted the ears of some present; but the strange, and dar- 
 ing character, who had called forth the epithet, had al- 
 ready glided, amongst an adjacent party, who were busily 
 engaged, raising the cumbrous armour to its former sta- 
 tion. Beholding none within the deep embrasure, but 
 
 * Shelley. 
 o2
 
 292 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 the father and child, they, who were startled by the ex- 
 clamation, probably imagined they had misapprehended 
 what had been spoken, for the room became soon cleared 
 of all, save Vicchy, Veronica, and that man, who seemed 
 resolved to link some dreadful purpose of his own, with 
 the interests of Eissenburg. 
 
 Again approaching the fated nobleman, " My lord," 
 he said, '' I pass over that ugly word, you cast on me 
 erewhiles, in respect that you know me not. See 
 here," continued the ruffian, as he stooped, and 
 raised, in his hands, the blasted dust of parchment — 
 " What sorry spite of Heaven! — But I tell ye," he con- 
 tinued, raising his eyes, and exalting his voice; "Ye! 
 who wield the thunder! that the virgin bays of courage 
 shall withstand, and laugh to scorn, your danger; and 
 the behests, and fierce pursuit of crowned heads, shall yet 
 be execute, though ye threap ever so stoutly ! — Lord con- 
 stable," proceeded the man, addressing himself to Vicchy, 
 who, with horrified astonishment, regarded him; " unto 
 that indenture, which the silly lightning, as you see, hath 
 incinerated to nothingness, was attached the royal seals 
 and autography of two crowned, and reigning sovereigns, 
 offering a vast reward, in case of certain services being 
 rendered, which were therein stipulated." 
 
 ^' But what have I to do," broke in Vicchy, '^ v/ith this 
 parchment, or its contents ?" 
 
 " You shall hear," returned the ruffian: "Listen to 
 me. Many are the tongues, into which that proclama- 
 tion hath been translated; and few the European states, 
 whither it hath not penetrated ; yet, neither the feudal 
 tyrants of Germany, and of Spain, save two, nor the mil- 
 lions of their vassals, ever heard of its existence; but the 
 knowledge of its purport, rolls surely, and secretly, like 
 an under-current, beneath the surface of society, and, 
 despite the elements, would continue to circulate amongst 
 that class unto whom it is directed, did not one of such, 
 this very night, work its predestined will." 
 
 " Vvliat class?" inquired Vicchy, with a displeased
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 293 
 
 look, but faltering^ tone, whilst Veronica's cheek 2:rew 
 pale, as she clung closer to her father's knee. 
 
 *' Such as I was born, and as thou art become, from 
 circumstances," answered the other, with a grim smile of 
 portentous meaning. Vicchy started, and the ruffian 
 thus proceeded : — "The bandit, the murderer, the out- 
 law, — men, my lord duke, who are the Arabs of civilized 
 society, — the condottierri of Europe! In the Wallachian 
 tents, and the Cyganis' cave, a duplicate of that royal 
 indenture, will be seen posted up, — nailed to the mast of 
 every corsair's galley, it may be read, and let any magnat, 
 between Calpe's cliff, and the flat margin of the Baltic, 
 brave the offended laws, and hold out against the Lord's 
 anointed, and that shrunken warranty shall be met with, 
 on the rebel's festive board, ere the news be a week old. 
 I tell thee, Herezeg of Eissenburg, that, now-a-days, the 
 perusal of that same bit of parchment, is the initiatory 
 rite of half the villains in Christendom." Veronica 
 shook, — a curdling shudder crept through her frame. 
 The damp hand she held, clipped in both hers, she 
 strained convulsively to her lips, whilst her earnest eyes, 
 upturned, watched, with anxious look, the effect of the 
 ruffian's language on her father's countenance. 
 
 " Why this, to me?" demanded Vicchy, at last, with an 
 intonation of voice, which he meant should express his in- 
 dignation, but which, the consciousness of how much, in 
 every way, he was in the villain's power, considerably 
 softened. 
 
 " Because thou art of us," was the daring replication. 
 
 " How, man?" breathed, rather than exclaimed, the 
 magnat. 
 
 *' Lord constable, that wert, erewhiles," rejoined the 
 other, with solemn voice; "you would do well to re- 
 member, that thy shield is battered, pierced, and that 
 thy shrouded ancestry, will start at the trump of doom, ere 
 thou, or thy child, or her children, shall ever rouse them 
 at the herald's call, beneath those centuried, and erst 
 stainless ensigns, which were handed down for thine in
 
 294 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 heritance. Art not outlawed, sir?" Vicchy clasped 
 both hands on his face, and dashing, from the feeble hold 
 of Veronica, who had clung- to him, in intense anxiety, 
 hurriedly paced up and down the chamber. The tempter 
 smiled. 
 
 "Nay, I'd have revenge, were T as you; but now, I 
 would fain give you back your riches," observed the man. 
 Vicchy's hands fell, — his march ceased, and he raised 
 his eyes to the insidious speaker, who thus proceeded : — 
 " Come, shall I conduct you to the spot, where I have 
 secreted your treasures ?" 
 
 " Whither?" inquired Vicchy. 
 
 " Some two miles hence," answ^ered the other ; " come, 
 an your gold be sterHng. I can show you, there, another 
 of these royal proclamations. 'Tis not in the vernacular 
 tongue, though, but writ in choice Cygani, which I will 
 interpret." While the man thus spoke, Vicchy, in some 
 degree, recovered his composure. 
 
 " Do you consider the state of the weather?" he ob- 
 jected, irresolutely. 
 
 " Good, my lord, I sow no danger in my promises," 
 coolly returned the stranger ; " if your mules, horse, and 
 valuables, be not worth a drenching, I have done. I 
 offered fairly." 
 
 *' Man, I will accompany thee," cried Vicchy, after a 
 minute's consideration. 
 
 "Thou wilt not," quickly interposed Veronica, catch- 
 ing her breath, and turning pale, while a sudden tear 
 started to her eye ; "indeed thou wilt, thou must not, 
 father, — he means mischief." The murderer, for the first 
 time, deigned a glance at the child, and then caressing 
 her head with his hand, addressed her, in a gentle voice. 
 "Here, sweetheart," he said, "is a good book, and 
 costly, graced with the name of Veronica, which I 
 found tied to your horse's saddle. Is't thine, my rozsdm?^ 
 If thou canst read it, 'twill edify thee in our absence;" 
 
 * Rosebud.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 295 
 
 and, having handed her the volume, the man withdrew, 
 beckoning- to Vicchy, that he should follow. 
 
 " Be still, my little heart, I shall be back in an hour," 
 said the lost noble, with a convulsive attempt to smile, 
 and imprinting a kiss on the forehead of his child. 
 
 '* Oh, remain where you are !" Veronica exclaimed, 
 with a faint shriek; " the enterprise in which you would 
 engage may be unholy." She looked up — her father 
 had quitted the room ; she walked to the window to 
 watch his receding form, till the dark colours of his ca- 
 pote became blended with the deepening shadows of the 
 wood, and then, as she sunk on her knees, a nameless, and 
 chill presentiment crept to her heart. 
 
 It was in the midst of grief, and terror, the cause of 
 whose vague excess, she could hardly explain to herself, 
 that the book she had continued, unconsciously, holding 
 in her hand, flew open, and her eye lit on these words,— 
 " Come unto me, all ye that are heavy-laden, and I will 
 refresh ye." Young as Veronica was, she had been in- 
 structed to peruse that holy testament, with the like 
 single-minded, and undoubting faith, which, immortalized 
 upon earth, and sanctified unto Heaven, those undaunted 
 apostles of the Reformation, who, in that age, raised 
 their protesting outcry, against the splendid idolatry of 
 the see of Rome; and who, at the stake, sealed their 
 belief, in the sufficiency of Jesus's Gospel to salvation ; 
 showing up to an ignorant, astonished world, side by side, 
 the " false Florizel," and her antitype, and intrepidly 
 arraigning the papal church, almost in the words of 
 Hamlet to his mother — 
 
 " Look here upon this picture, and on this, 
 The counterfeit presentment of two brothers : 
 See what a grace was seated on his brow. 
 This was your husband — look you now what follows : 
 Here is your husband — like a mildewed ear 
 Blasting his wholesome brother — have you eyes 1 
 Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed 
 And batten on this moor ]"
 
 296 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 The important privilege of searching the Scriptures 
 was necessarily vindicated, by the very act of separating 
 from the Roman Catholic community. To the exercise 
 of private judgment, every one, according to the funda- 
 mental doctrine of the Reformation, owned an inherent 
 title. But, however incontrovertible in the abstract, this 
 asserted right does not appear to have wrought un- 
 mingled benefit to Christianity. From hence have sprung 
 vip, in every direction, a vile spawn of sectaries, who, 
 distorting the texts, and warping the tenets of holy writ, 
 would accommodate God's word to their own crude, 
 conceited, and even blasphemous opinions — " Chacun 
 s'est fait a soi-meme un tribunal ou il s'est rendu I'arbitre 
 de sa croyance."* 
 
 This persuasion of each individual being both qualified, 
 and entitled to judge for himself, in points of faith, 
 caused the Scriptures, about this period, to be examined, 
 in a fanatical spirit, with a view, either of having pre- 
 conceived dogmas confirmed, or adopting a new creed, 
 instead of their being taken up in that humble frame of 
 mind, which were more rational, and becoming. Not 
 unfrequently, they were resorted to for the superstitious 
 purpose of ascertaining, from the passages which came 
 uppermost, the line of conduct approved by Heaven, in 
 cases of doubt, emergency, or tribulation ; and, in some 
 such mood and temper, our little maiden hied, with de- 
 vout mien, and composed step, to the privacy of her 
 bed-chamber. 
 
 Vicchy, towards evening, returned, alone, from his 
 unwitnessed interview. His daughter, whose ears had 
 long thirsted for the well-known footsteps, flew to wel- 
 come him ; but he repelled her affectionate caresses, with 
 coldness, if not with displeasure. A withering chill came 
 over the spirit of the little girl, as, stifling the choking 
 sob, and checking the rising tear, she silently turned 
 away. Oh ! there is no sting of disappointment, 
 
 * Bossuet.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 297 
 
 treachery, ingratitude, and hopeless love — afflictions 
 which shadow the remote perspective of a child's subse- 
 quent existence, — that will bear comparison with the stab, 
 that strikes home to his young heart, when its affection- 
 ate transports experience that freezing rebuff, ordinary 
 to the thoughtless, and chartered tyranny of his elders, 
 'lis as if drops of frost, each sharper than the sharpest 
 lancet, drizzled over every atom of the naked frame. The 
 antidote against the calamities of riper years, may be 
 found in pride, in religion, in the inborn consciousness 
 of rectitude ; but the outraged feeling, the repressed soli- 
 citude, the crushed affections of the child, canhaveno such 
 orvietan : again, and again, his passionate thoughts will 
 revert, with suicidal aim, to the poignant remembrance ; 
 like the scorpion, that turns upon its own breast, the 
 instrument, that was meant for a protection. Veronica 
 gazed on her father, and instantly discovered, he was no 
 longer the same man — his eyes were glazed — his fea- 
 tures haggard, and care-worn — his cheek bloodless — he 
 looked a walking corpse, rather than a living creature. 
 A second time, Veronica, tremblingly approached him, 
 only to encounter a still sharper repulse. " Ah!" thought 
 the wretched girl, in the simplicity of her innocence; 
 '* God always hardens the heart of such as sort with wicked 
 men, even, as we read, ' he hardened the heart of Pha- 
 raoh,' and this must be what the inspired page referred 
 to. Alas ! that naughty villain, who seduced my father — 
 away with him ! — would, please God ! he had never been 
 born." 
 
 Was this, an ominous foreshadowing on that child's soul, 
 of the unknown's influence on her destiny ? Was it an un- 
 conscious augury ? Could she, indeed, have looked into 
 the bosom of time, what bitter excuse would she have 
 there discerned, for that uncharitable, and prophetic as- 
 piration ! Id fat is videbatur ! 
 
 Darkness came on ; and the tempest, which had not 
 ceased during the entire day, seemed now to summon its 
 whole collected force, — and that was terrible. Out of 
 o5
 
 298 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 the storm-cloud's bosom the gale sobbed, and the fre- 
 quent, and vivid lightning' flashed, whilst, ever and anon, 
 the thunder spake with an emphasis, as if to astound, 
 both earth, and heaven. A fire had been kindled in one 
 of the smaller chambers, and the bright and crackling 
 faggots, were no unwelcome auxiliary ; combined with 
 the old tapestry, that hung around, and the thick drapery 
 of the doors and windows, they threw over the feelings, 
 that consciousness of comfortable seclusion, to which the 
 insular situation of the chateau, and the rough elements 
 without, imparted an additional charm, by the help of 
 contrast : — 
 
 *' Grato cum sibilat igni 
 
 Molle pyrum et malus auster 
 
 Miscet, cuncta foris, et de super intonat ulmo." * 
 
 Here the proprietor of the mansion was seated on a 
 large leathern chair, in the ample, cavernous chimney- 
 corner, listlessly gazing, v/here the flame flickered 
 brightly against the opposite wainscoat. At a short in- 
 terval, behind his master, stood, in a respectful, and grave 
 posture, Donald, the ancient domestic. At a greater 
 distance, other menials had respectively stationed them- 
 selves, in various easy, or constrained attitudes, according 
 as chance dictated, or custom authorized. On a bench, 
 at a far corner of the room, Vicchy ensconced himself, 
 in dejected meditation. His abstracted mien, his wild, 
 and haggard countenance, in spite of all the artifice of 
 self-command, would have betrayed the agitation, and 
 the disorder of his mind, had he not contrived, in a great 
 measure, to bury his features, in the folds of his attire. 
 Veronica rested on a low tripod, close by, at her father's 
 feet- 
 There was another individual, in that room, unto 
 whom it is likely, the reader may desire an introduction, 
 after being told, that Vicchy, ever and anon, bent on 
 him, askaunt, a mysterious and boding look. He, to 
 
 * Milton.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 299 
 
 whom we allude, was an eminently handsome lad, in the 
 first glow, and buoyancy of existence, having curly hair, 
 full, sparkling, blue eyes, lit with intelligence, and be- 
 tokening a noble purpose, and a heroic spirit ; uncom- 
 monly fine teeth, regular features, and olive complexion. 
 He was tall for his years, and the expansion of his chest, 
 and the agile symmetry of his make, were exhibited to 
 advantage, beneath the close vest and tunic of blue velvet, 
 cinctured, by means of a crimson sash, tight to the waist. 
 This lad was commonly styled Sir Sigismund, by the re- 
 tainers of that chateau, though what was his parentage 
 or birth, remained a mystery. He now lay basking on 
 the floor, in the blaze of firelight, having an immense 
 folio displayed before him, with whose highly illuminated 
 page he seemed intently occupied ; not but that, often, for 
 consecutive minutes, he would raise his eyes, and fix 
 them, with a thoughtful tenderness, beyond his years, 
 upon the crackling krumholz,^ which presented ten 
 thousand varieties of landscapes, and histrionic marvels, or 
 whatever else, the poetic feeling of the moment, made up 
 of reverie and sensation, might please to conceive or 
 conjure — 
 
 " And oft before his youthful eyes would run, 
 Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray."t 
 
 For the space of an hour, not a word had passed the 
 lips of any in this apartment, and all had remained nearly 
 stationary, in the respective attitudes, and under the in- 
 fluence of those feelings, we have just described. 
 
 At length. Count Rodna broke the protracted silence. 
 " Methinks," he said, doffing his outer vest, and casting 
 the robe on the back of his seat, '* methinks these blazing 
 brands remind one of an officious jester, 1 have heard 
 tell of, whose wit was admirable in itself, but usually 
 ill-timed. An unseasonable blessing is as little estimated, 
 as the worth of one, fallen from his original estate, whose 
 
 * Knee- wood. t Gray.
 
 300 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 breeding is not merely misinterpreted, but, being viewed 
 through an exclusive, and prejudiced medium, positively 
 contemned." 
 
 Donald sighed audibly; whilst Sigismund, lifting his 
 eyes from off the page, observed ; '' It is not always so — 
 a gem, however poorly set, sparkles the same ; and there 
 are, who can discern, and respect, whatever is beautiful, 
 and grand, even under any peculiarity, or eclipse of ex- 
 ternal circumstances. By the way, would you, dear sir, 
 deign to answer a question, I have long thought of put- 
 ting, and had done, only that the fear of giving offence 
 bridled my tongue ?" 
 
 '' You may not be denied, my boy," replied Count 
 Rodna, gazing on Sigismund, with a quiet approving 
 smile. " Put an hundred an thou wilt. Propose it." 
 
 " That belt, sir I" — and the lad timidly indicated an im- 
 mense iron belt, wliich met, and returned the blaze of the 
 firelight, and which, on Count Rodna's throwing aside 
 his exterior vest, was discovered to circle his waist. The 
 venerable man seemed stung by the interrogatory, into 
 recollection. A slight colour gleamed across his majestic 
 countenance, the whole expression of which, assumed a 
 melancholy character. 
 
 •' This belt, my dear boy," faintly dropped from his 
 lips. 
 
 " If you please — that is, if it be a fair inquiry, I would 
 gladly learn why you invariably, in winter and summer, 
 wear that cumbrous zone? No common cause can have 
 induced you, at your advanced period of life, to submit to 
 so terrible a penance." ' 
 
 '* It was no common cause," said Count Rodna, 
 solemnly, and in a tone more firm than before. He 
 stopped for an instant and then proceeded. " For more 
 than half a century, has this iron belt girded me round, 
 and unto it every year, I add a certain additional weight, 
 in memory of one, to whose violent death I was in some 
 sort accessory. 
 
 " A stranger?" demanded Sigismund, in a low tone.
 
 MA^^USCRIPT VII. 301 
 
 " It was my father," replied Count Rodna. " In view- 
 ing this belt," he presently added, " you behold my self-in- 
 flicted punishment." 
 
 The youthful querist listened with rooted attention, 
 whilst his eyes bespoke the deep interest he felt, in the 
 relation of Count Rodna, and his commiseration for the 
 penitent old man ; but he did not speak, while the noble 
 Scot shortly resumed — ''and yet, it was not parricide," he 
 said, — " no ! — these hands never shed blood except in 
 battle-field — but" — he was here interrupted by a deep, 
 and hollow groan : — they started. Veronica passed, with 
 dextrous quickness, between her father, and the general 
 gaze, to conceal his pale, and agonized expression of 
 countenance. It was from him the melancholy sound 
 issued. 
 
 "Are you ill, sir?" inquired one of the troop of 
 menials, standing near to Vicchy, who, raising his head, 
 was in the act of rendering some brief, and probably, 
 evasive answer, when, at that moment, a loud blast, emit- 
 ted from the bugle hanging without the fosse, resounded 
 through the ancient dwelling, and aroused every inha- 
 bitant within its walls. 
 
 And now the storm seemed to rage abroad, with greater 
 violence than ever, and the artillery of Heaven rolled such 
 a dreadful volley through the skies, as to threaten that 
 the building would topple, on the heads of the inmates. 
 Presently, one or two rushed into the apartments, with 
 pale visages, and hair on end, followed by the affrighted 
 janitor, who, in broken and inarticulate speech, gave his 
 master to understand, that some strange person waited 
 without, whose business he could not exactly ascertain. 
 
 " How so, man ? Will he not tell his errand ?" de- 
 manded Count Rodna. 
 
 "He cannot, I fear," answered the domestic; " his ac- 
 cents are too deep, and grave for life — they are unlike any 
 thing human — and his figure, holy Mary save us ! — such a 
 figure!" and the man uplifted the whites of his eyes, and 
 raised his hands on high, in which mute expressions of
 
 302 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 horror, he was countenanced by those, who had preceded 
 him, in his flight from the portal. 
 
 '* Is Peter the Bloody upon us, that you look so terri- 
 fied?" inquired Sir Sigismund,in a low tone, of one of these. 
 
 " 'Tis the incarnate fiend himself," was the communi- 
 cation of the man to his fellows, delivered in a hoarse, 
 breathless whisper. " I could not look upon him, without 
 a palsy in every limb." 
 
 " Some traveller, doubtless, who requires shelter," 
 mildly observed his lord. " Go you, Donald ;" and 
 Count Rodna ceased speaking ; for again a summons, as 
 loud and prolonged as the former, not only reverberated 
 through the passages, and chambers of the vast edifice, 
 but penetrated to the inmost heart of all who heard it. 
 
 The old domestic did not seem much to relish his mis- 
 sion ; he turned horribly pale, but, at the same time, 
 quickened his movements. During his absence, the 
 countenance of every individual in the apartment, save 
 one, reflected the superstitious terror, which was upper- 
 most in their minds. Save one — the guide of Vicchy, who 
 alone, of all that frighted company, appeared as if he felt 
 small concern, in what was going on. His character had 
 no tinge of that visionary superstition, which spread, in 
 those days, a sort of thrilling interest, over the common 
 places, and routine of life. With his eyes, watching the 
 varying expression of Hubert's countenance, and his arms 
 folded together, in composure, he stood, with apparent in- 
 difference, amid the group, untouched, in the remotest de- 
 gree, by that magnetic virtue — sympathy. It was not long, 
 ere Donald re-entered the room, still paler than he quitted 
 it. A bev/ildered expression of mingled horror and 
 amazement had settled on his brow, and he appeared con- 
 siderably agitated. Having come up to his master, his 
 quivering lips refused to form the words, which he at- 
 tempted to utter, in an under tone, and it was with diffi- 
 culty, he made himself understood. 
 
 " How so ?" replied Count Rodna, in a more audible 
 key — "he ivill speak with me, say you? Was this
 
 MA^sL'SCRIPT VII. 
 
 303 
 
 message, a message of command to me ? Ha ! to me, 
 Donald ?" 
 
 ** Not altogether a command ; yet his mode of speech, 
 methought, was horribly menacing," answered the other. 
 
 " Is he benighted ? If so, open wide our gates to him, 
 and we will hear what he has to tell us." 
 
 " No," returned Donald, '* his was not the voice of 
 distress, nor the bidding of earthly power ; and, more- 
 over, he declared, he would not cross the moat; and, for 
 the matter of that, God forbid, I say, that his cloven 
 tread w-ere on the sill of any Christian habitation !" 
 
 " Why, Donald," said the venerable Scot, raising him- 
 self from his seat, " what contagious folly is here ? back ! 
 and tell this presumptuous summoner, we will not parley 
 with him, but, if he choose, he can instruct you with his 
 purpose, or pray him to enter. On such a night one's 
 enemy's dog should obtain shelter. Gracious Heavens ! 
 there was a peal to wake the dead ! Obey me, Donald." 
 
 The seneschal, with evident appearance of reluctance, 
 which met an answering expression of sympathy, in the 
 countenance of almost every one present, dragged him- 
 self out of the room. Count Rodna remained in a musino- 
 
 o 
 
 attitude, which none present cared to disturb. The 
 silence of expectancy was over all, and the eager, horri- 
 fied eyes, of every one in the room, were directed to the 
 door, with feverish anxiety. Presently, the ancient fol- 
 lower, manifesting, if possible, still stronger symptoms of 
 consternation, returned. 
 
 " The being insists, — 'tis his own word — on your ap- 
 pearing before him," began the seneschal : " he has that to 
 unfold, "he says, "which brooks neitherotheraudience, nor 
 
 delay : he summons you, by the token that " Donald's 
 
 voice faltered. He crept close beside to his venerable 
 master, who, with considerable dignity, took up the word. 
 
 "Speak out this invocation," he said; "let us all 
 hear !" — but Donald stooped his head, and whispered a 
 few words, in his ear.
 
 304 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 A slight flush suffused the complexion of Count Roclna, 
 which was instantly succeeded, by a deadly paleness. 
 Whatever were his thoughts, he made no reply ; but, 
 on the moment, with a calm and resolved air, he rose, 
 and deliberately withdrew, leaving, on the minds of all, 
 as he closed the door after him, an anxious impression 
 of indefinable awe. He proceeded straight to the outer 
 court. The night was as black as ink ; — but Count 
 Rodna had, with him, a torch, by the aid of whose light, 
 might be faintly descried, on the opposite side of the 
 moat, the gigantic shadow, whose imperative demand 
 had brought him to the spot. He started back, and the 
 torch, falling to the earth, was extinguished; but, 
 nerving himself for the encounter, he again prepared 
 to direct his eyes, towards where the dusky sum- 
 moner stood ! when, immediately, the heavy masses of 
 cloud broke asunder, and one red, and fiery star strug- 
 gled, through the lurid atmosphere. For the first time, 
 that night, the beams of the moon pierced the drifting 
 vapour, and shed a flood of mild lustre, on a little 
 space of green expanse, surrounded by a border of 
 brush, in the midst of which, rose the supernatural 
 appearance. "With what emotions of sublime, and 
 thrilling curiosity, did Count Rodna gaze upon that sta- 
 tionary phantom ! He deemed, that he beheld, stretching 
 itself before him, a kind of shadowy outline, of some 
 vast, immane, and unformed spectre, and his whole 
 frame was held in an attitude of solemn, and awe-struck 
 contemplation. 
 
 '' In God's name ! who, and what art thou ?" he de- 
 manded, in a low and indrawn voice. 
 
 The amorphous phantasm, motioned forth its fleshless 
 
 hand : — 
 
 ''Exile of Scotland!" he began, in accents horribly 
 unearthly ; " you behold the genius of Hungary : I am 
 the same, who, on the eve of Mohacs, would have fore- 
 warned King Lewis of his fate, and so have averted the
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 
 
 305 
 
 catastrophe of that disastrous day. lam appointed, for 
 a term, to watch over the destinies of this country, 
 whose ruin is, this night, meant to be consummated, by 
 the massacre of vour ffuest." 
 
 "Massacre! — Guest! — Whom?" ejaculated Count 
 Rodna, in a choked and trembling tone. 
 
 " The boy Sigismund," replied the phantom, " con- 
 fided to your care, by Luke Swartz. He must inevit- 
 ably perish, in cold blood, within these three hours, 
 unless the deed be frustrated, by your changing the 
 lad's dormitory, and hiding from every creature, even 
 from himself, where he will lie this night. I adjure you, 
 do this," proceeded the supernatural voice, — " I adjure 
 
 you — 
 
 Bn' him who fell uashrived, unblest. 
 
 Whose painful memory weighs thy breast ! 
 
 Bv the malison of woe, 
 
 Launched on thy head at Linlithgow : 
 
 By the red ruin of Flodden rill, 
 
 1 adjure thee, heed my will ! " 
 
 As the undefined spectre concluded these last words, 
 a blinding flash of lightning darted across the eyes of 
 Count Rodna; — he closed them: — the rending of ele- 
 ments followed, and so loud and continuous was the 
 sounding forth, that, one would have imagined, the 
 arena of our planet; were substituted for the battling of 
 fiends, in lieu of their native element of fire. At length, 
 all was hushed. Count Rodna looked up. The gigantic 
 vision had vanished, along with the moon's transient 
 halo. 
 
 After having, privately, issued directions that, for that 
 night, a translocation of the sleeping chambers of Sigis- 
 mund and Veronica should be effected ; Count Rodna 
 slowly, and wrapt in thought, bent his footsteps to a 
 remote part of the building. He paused, for an instant, 
 before a door, and gently rapped at it. A low and hol- 
 low voice, from within, bade him enter. He passed 
 into the apartment : — it was spacious and lofty. At a
 
 306 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 table, upon which were arranged various papers, and 
 writing materials, was seated that monk, of whom we 
 before made mention. The ecclesiastic rose, and the 
 two, forthwith, proceeded to confer together, respecting 
 a mysterious and important matter, which the reader may 
 learn, in the sequel. 
 
 On the departure of the venerable Scot, the monk re- 
 sumed the avocation, which his visitor had disturbed, 
 and, for upwards of an hour, sedulously applied himself 
 to his writing. At length, throwing aside the pen, he 
 bent his elbow on the table, and, burying his forehead 
 and face, within the palms of his hands, seemed to be ab- 
 sorbed in deep cogitation. 
 
 " 'Tis well," he murmured to himself, half audibly, 
 " 'tis well to be provided against the worst. What if I 
 perish suddenly, a7id without warning? Yes, 'tis best; 
 nor can I too early justify the integrity, on which that 
 poor girl, in all the unsuspiciousness of her enthusiasm, 
 based her unhappy prepossession : — she fell a victim to 
 my imaginary dereliction of honour. Oh ! if it be per- 
 mitted to the just emancipated spirit, to witness what 
 takes place on this Cimmerian globe, let her now look 
 down, in pardon and compassion ! Yet, oh, yet ! I feel 
 our souls shall meet, and sympathize beyond the grave, 
 without the coil and blindness of the flesh, sullying their 
 purity, or darkening their intelligence ; the memory of 
 our fatal intercourse, upon earth, will be the link to 
 bind us together, in immortality. Oh, my dead love! — 
 how loved, I little dreamt, till I sped thee, with a bless- 
 ing, on thy dark way, — if, at last, tliou canst, indeed, 
 read my soul, as thou didst fondly conceive, during thy 
 visionary life-time, to be in thy competence ; vouchsafe 
 to shed a beam of mercy on thy murderer ! — console him, 
 if it be at thy volition, with the thouglit, that thou dost 
 him that justice, at length, from conviction, which, 
 despite of what seemed, to thee, indubitable evidence of 
 his crime, thy faith, begat of immeasureable love, was 
 inclined, whilst thou tarriedst here, to render him.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 
 
 307 
 
 Spirit of the departed ! do you know that I am in- 
 nocent ? " 
 
 The soliloquist paused, and dropped his hands, when, 
 by some accidental movement, his elbow struck the 
 lamp from off the table; the light went out, and the 
 pensive habitant of that remote chamber sat alone, 
 and in darkness. He raised his eyes, and a curdling 
 thrill crept through his veins ! for, lo ! the prayer, 
 that, almost silently, had welled up from the sanctuary 
 of his soul, had reached its aim, and had an answer. 
 The far depths of the room became gradually brightened 
 with a glory, not of this world ; and a dim, thin, human, 
 shape, slowly developed its indistinct and shadowy out- 
 line, by insensibly divesting itself, as it were, of one 
 immortal shroud after another, till it stood, pale and 
 confessed, in ethereal repose. 
 
 The dilated orbs of the monk became transfixed, on 
 the apparition, which, by degrees, cleared itself to his 
 sight and sense; and he watched, calm, hueless, and set 
 in immortal beauty, the features of the being, whom, in 
 his rapt musing, he had involuntarily invoked. Awful, 
 and radiant, like that of an angel, shone her counte- 
 nance : she spoke no word, but fixed her stony gaze 
 upon the ecclesiastic, who caught, for a brief second, 
 one celestial smile — a look that could not die; while, 
 upon those pallid lips, yet safe from the outrage of the 
 tomb, there crept a tremulous motion, which, however 
 slight, evanescent, and inaudible, was intelligible, be- 
 yond all articulation. It passed into the beholder's 
 heart, with electric facility, and he saw that his inquiry 
 was answered ; and he knew, and soothing was the in- 
 tuitive consciousness, that all was at length explained ; 
 and, he believed, that the spirit of the departed, with 
 a love, not to be dated or bounded by the pulse's throb, 
 had appeared to intimate to him his acquittal. " It was 
 a moment worthy years;" he bowed his head, — ^and be- 
 hold ! *****
 
 308 MA%^USCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Another hour elapsed, and Count Rodna repeated his 
 visit to the lonely apartment. He came, accompanied 
 by the boy; they found the monk seated in darkness, 
 his mien was solemn and composed, and his eyes full of 
 tenderness and thought. He made no allusion to the 
 visitation of the phantom. The Scot, having affixed his 
 name to certain papers, that the monk silently presented 
 to him, placed them before his youthful companion, to 
 subscribe after him. The boy received the pen, but 
 paused, as in thought, ere he dipped it in the ink. — He 
 looked his revered protector in the face, and seemed to 
 hesitate. 
 
 '^ Sign, child," said Count Rodna. 
 
 " Sigismund?" inquired the boy. 
 
 '' Of course, Sigismund," replied the count, with some 
 surprise. 
 
 " And what besides, sir?" interrogated the boy, with 
 a meaning emphasis. 
 
 Count Rodna was about to answer, but the monk took 
 up the word — 
 
 *' Sigismund will do: John Sigismund, my brave boy, 
 an you will, — there needs no more." 
 
 " And may I ask, reverend father, without offence, 
 what is the purport of these writings, since they require 
 my signature?" 
 
 '' They are meant to remedy, as far as is now possible, 
 the evil, consequent upon a most base and dark conspi- 
 racy ; and eventually to vindicate the conduct of an in- 
 voluntary abettor thereof, from much misrepresentation, 
 and rescue his name from unmerited obloquy." 
 
 " You speak obscurely, father," said Sigismund ; 
 " nevertheless, I will not refuse to sign, if my grand- 
 father still wishes it." 
 
 " 'Twas for that I brought you hither," said Count 
 Rodna ; " you are more indebted to this holy man, than" 
 
 the monk put his finger to his lip, and as Count 
 
 Rodna paused, the boy had already signed the paper.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 309 
 
 " IwAN Sigismund!" said the father, taking tlie paper 
 in his hands. 
 
 *' Iwan and John are equivalent, you know," remarked 
 the boy, with a smile. 
 
 " True, my son ; though John was, in this case, pre- 
 ferable." 
 
 '' And now attend to me; — what remains to be done, is 
 not to be forgotten. It is 7?iz/ turn to sign ;" and the monk 
 took up the pen, and, after looking at Sigismund, for an 
 instant, with a meaning glance, traced the characters of 
 A NAME upon the paper. When he had done, he handed 
 the inscription to the youth, whose countenance and 
 manner, on beholding what was written, betrayed the 
 extremest astonishment. " This half-hour, I trust, will 
 remain indelibly stamped upon the volume of your brain," 
 presently, observed the monk, in an almost solemn 
 voice; "and when next, my son, you cast eyes upon 
 these three signatures, the obscurity you speak of, will 
 be illumined, and you become cognizant of the purport 
 of these papers; till when, may peace, virtue, and ho- 
 nourable thoughts be with you, in all your ingoings and 
 outcomings !" Shortly afterwards. Count Rodna retired, 
 as he came, bearing Sigismund away with him. 
 
 Veronica, on retiring to her repose, felt a passing sen- 
 sation of wonder, at having to substitute for her previ- 
 ous dormitory, the more commodious and splendid cham- 
 ber, into which she was now shown, by the sedate ma- 
 tron, to whom that duty was assigned, and who, having 
 seen the child into bed, left her to solitude and darkness. 
 The marvellous occurrences of the past day, had con- 
 tributed to relax the mental powers of Veronica, and to 
 render her more than commonly susceptible of visionary 
 influences. The spirit of superstition, indeed, at that 
 " witching hour," darkened over the house, and found, 
 in the thick-coming fancies of its habitants, a meet at- 
 mosphere, wherein to move her " sail-stretched" wings. 
 Every one appeared, more or less, enthralled by the bale-
 
 310 "manuscripts of erdely. 
 
 ful presence, — nor was tliis vague and involuntary im- 
 pression, without excuse. The untimely, and, as was 
 believed, the supernatural tempest, which had raged, 
 without intermission, for so many hours, and with such 
 intemperate violence, — the frequent, and sulphureous 
 lightnings, which, throughout the day, had illumined the 
 thick vault of Heaven ; the thunderbolt, which that morn- 
 ing had struck the mansion, as if to hurl it to its base, — 
 and rising above all, the visiting phantom, who, so lately, 
 had held mysterious commune with the foreign and un- 
 known proprietor of the domain; — all these causes pre- 
 sented a mighty incentive to shadowy, and imaginary 
 terrors. And what wonder, that a mere child should fail 
 to escape the general contagion ? But, in addition to 
 these unsubstantial impressions, the daughter of Eissen- 
 burg, had to endure feelings of distress, peculiar to her- 
 self. The strange temerity of the man, who had brought 
 them to that temporary residence, his alarming discourse 
 with her father, to which she had listened, with a terrified 
 and absorbed attention; his success in inveigling him, in 
 spite of the element's tempestuous havock, to leave the 
 house — which, child as she was, filled her mind with 
 strong, though indefinite forebodings, — the mysterious 
 conduct, and sullen demeanour of Hubert, since his re- 
 turn ; these were incidents, calculated to debilitate her 
 nerves, even until her shattered faculties lost all confi- 
 dence in their proper strength, and resources. 
 
 It will have been gathered, from many incidental 
 notices, that Veronica was no ordinary child,— her 
 understanding was, indeed, precocious, beyond the usual 
 capacities of her age. Nevertlieless, it should be con- 
 sidered, that the times on which she was cast, were com- 
 paratively unenlightened, and contemporary prejudices 
 tended, of course, to shakle the exercise, and free growth 
 of her natural good sense. Her strong leaning, more- 
 over, to the contemplation of those momentous truths, 
 enforced at the Reformation, and the poetical and pro- 
 phetic garb, in which those truths clothed themselves,
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 
 
 311 
 
 superinduced a train of thinking, and the lurking in- 
 citements to a practical error, with respect to religion, 
 which, although of a distinct character from the prevail- 
 ing superstition, w^as not less enervating and fatal. 
 
 On this opposite fallacy we have, already, had occasion 
 to animadvert; and it was in that holy, though, if we 
 may so say, somewhat Hebrew spirit, that sublime trust 
 in the omnipresence, and protecting inspiration of her 
 Heavenly Parent, that Veronica breathed, in a soft tone, 
 her extempore and simple supplication to the Deity. 
 The painful impression, which the wonders of the last 
 few hours had wrought on her, she confessed to the ab- 
 stracted and invisible principle, whose element is infini- 
 tude, and she looked for relief and guidance, not to any 
 defined and outward presentment ; she invoked no sen- 
 suous incarnation, no oracular or mediatory semblance, 
 but confided implicitly in the inward, and spiritual work- 
 ings of her soul. Her trust rested in the Supreme of 
 things; in the direct minist'ring of God himself, in her 
 heart. She was slowly, and insensibly detached from 
 this elevation of her nature, by the intervention of certain 
 sounds and appearances, which, for awdiile, had solicited 
 her bodily organs, without arresting her mental con- 
 sciousness. But, however engrossed, her thoughts be- 
 came gradually abstracted from their divine object, and 
 settled on the mortal and immediate interests, that pressed 
 upon her; — these proved, in the event, sufHciently start- 
 ling. A stream of light fell across the bed, upon 
 which Veronica knelt, though not until above a minute 
 after her eyes caught the radiance, did she perceive 
 that it issued through a narrow chink or incisure, 
 which the hand of time had worked, or warped, in the 
 wainscot of her apartment. For an instant, Veronica 
 gazed intently on the opening, and, having slid softly 
 from her lofty couch, she cautiously, and with a beating 
 heart, stole to the aperture. On looking through, she 
 descried the mysterious guide, traversing, with hasty tread.
 
 312 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 the floor of the adjoining chamber. Recoiling with in- 
 stinctive terror, she would fain have averted her eyes ; but 
 a sort of prophetic fascination rivetted her gaze: presently, 
 she observed him adjusting his dress and countenance, 
 at a mirror, which stood opposite ; but it is out of the 
 power of words to depict her amazement, at the magical 
 transformation, which then she witnessed. Throwing 
 aside his grey doublet, the unknown discovered to view, 
 a coat of chain mail beneath. At the same time, the 
 black uncouth patch, which had hitherto defaced half his 
 visa2:e, was vail'd on one side, and she noticed him doff 
 a light flaxen peruke, which had overlaid his natural 
 hyperian curls. The next instant, as he turned away 
 from the glass, her eyes settled on the strikingly hand- 
 some face of one, whose real and juvenile appearance, 
 these adscititious disfigurements had previously ob- 
 scured. Childhood is naturally disposed to rely on the 
 reality of things. 'Tis its high instinct, ere (to use the 
 expression of a great poet) — 
 
 " It forget the glories it hath seen, 
 Of that imperial palace whence it came." 
 
 The first impression of the simple maiden, was, that 
 she beheld the operation, and result of " mighty magic ;" 
 for even conjuration seemed to her m9re credible than 
 deceit. Silly girl ! — and yet in that, as in other mat- 
 ters, " when thou hast more wit," as Juliet's nurse told 
 her, " thou wilt know better." 
 
 We have said, that the face on wliich Veronica now 
 tremblingly gazed was handsome; but it was not so from 
 expression. We have to add, that it was intelligent and 
 commanding ; yet the unknown's was far from being a 
 countenance, on whose lineaments the eye might delight- 
 edly linger. On his desperate brow, in his dark flaming 
 eye, the thoughts and conceptions of precocious crime, 
 already anticipated a portion of those tell-tale, and ter- 
 rible characteristics, more proper to the veteran criminal. 
 
 * Wordsworth,
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 
 
 313 
 
 His features were fixed, in an expression of determined, 
 and ferocious villany. Passion — fatal and indelible 
 passion — was stamped on his front, in appalling tokens. 
 Usually, in the physiognomy of the most depraved, some 
 trait or other, lurks behind, to evidence, that his common 
 humanity hath lent root to some vulnerable point of 
 tenderness; but, about this man, there was no such 
 *' touch of pity." 
 
 *' Monstrum nulla viitute redeniptum." 
 
 At a first view, however, the spirit, which looked forth 
 from his brilliant, and fiery glance, might seem to indicate 
 a lofty, and a generous temperament ; but a deeper insight, 
 into its meaning, would correct the illusion. They were 
 not the aspirings of a noble soul — noble, however erring, 
 which that fierce and violent look betokened ; but, 
 rather, the sanguinary, and self-willed temper of the 
 primal murderer. He seemed a man, capable alike of 
 conceiving, and executing the most audacious deeds. 
 One quality, however, distinguished him, which seldom 
 fails to attract the vulgar, and command their admira- 
 tion, even when accompanied with the allay of a thou- 
 sand crimes, and although therein, the possessor, after 
 all, only shares the common instinct of the wolf, and the 
 hyena. This consisted in that dogged, indomitable cou- 
 rage, in encountering, and address in surmounting diffi- 
 culties, which no object could divert, no danger deter, 
 and which, " if the cracked orbs should split and fall,"* 
 they would not humble. Such was the character, which 
 might be easily gleaned, from a close study of the un- 
 known's countenance, — a character, unreprieved by an 
 atom of principle, and, perhaps, bolstered in its iniquity, 
 by a certain degree of natural talent, and guided and 
 directed, by the appliances of a cultivated mind. If we 
 reflect, for a moment, what tremendous advantage over 
 his fellows, that man possesses, whom Nature hath gifted, 
 
 * Fanshaw. 
 TOL. I. P
 
 314 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 with a vigorous frame, and a hardy constitution, and who, 
 in the furthering of his selfish schemes, recks neither 
 opinion nor death, nor " the dread of something after 
 death," whom, not even the superstitious misgivings, the 
 Beiartcaijdovia of Paganism, restrains, we may form some 
 idea of tpieir critical situation, whose hard fate had thrown 
 them on the trail of this ruthless ruffian, whether, at 
 first, for enemies or friends, in all probability, in the long 
 run, for victims. 
 
 Veronica had not, as yet, recovered from her amaze- 
 ment, at witnessing this man's metamorphosis, when 
 three or four low taps, on the adjoining chamber-door 
 aroused her. In an instant, les grosses tresses were again 
 collocated over the unknown's black glossy ringlets, and 
 disposed so as to conceal his stern, and polished brow. The 
 immense patch overspread one-half of his countenance, 
 and, instead of the dawn of manhood, which properly 
 distinguished him, his appearance became stamped with 
 an almost senile character. The unknown then pro- 
 ceeded to undo the inside fastening of the door. Ve- 
 ronica could hardly believe her eyes. AVas she awake ? — 
 Why, what could her father want, at midnight, with this 
 man ? If her astonishment was unbounded, her appre- 
 hensions were no less on the alert. She longed to shriek 
 aloud to Vicchy, that the person before him was other 
 than he seemed. But her tongue clave to the roof of 
 her unmoistened mouih. She felt nailed to the spot, 
 where she stood, beholding, as under a nightmare spell, 
 the fate of her dearest sire, evolve, like some mighty 
 drama, but incapable of stretching out a finger, to avert 
 the catastrophe ; — a weight, like that of the Carpa- 
 thians, lay upon, and unnerved her joints. Whilst she 
 continued in this state of entire incertitude, the door was 
 reclosed, and Vicchy slowly advanced into the room. 
 The change which appeared in him was marvellous ; 
 all colour had fled his cheeks, which were of a ghastly 
 whiteness ; his eyes were glazed ; his limbs seemed too
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 315 
 
 feeble to sustain their allotted weight ; he trembled ; 
 and, as he threw himself into a chair, his distracted gaze 
 superadded an appearance of wildness, to the haggard 
 care, impressed upon his countenance. 
 
 The unknown commenced the interview, with an ex- 
 pression of impatience. " Wherefore," he demanded, 
 ** droop'st thou now ? Is not the deed, we meditate, an 
 act of justice ? If there be wrong, let those who com- 
 mand the performance, look to it ; — for us, we are but 
 the executioners of majesty; thou saw'st the instrument 
 with thine own eyes, — the imperial arms — the sign 
 manual — would'st thou look again ? I have it yet about 
 me. — See, here," and he drew from his person a roll, 
 similar, in shape and appearance, to the parchment, 
 which the lightning had shrivelled that morn. " Call up 
 your blood again, my lord duke, and gaze," proceeded 
 the stranger, as he held the parchment towards Vicchi, 
 with his left hand. " Ferdinand the First ! ha !" and, at 
 the exclamation, a hollow sound, as of a drum, evidenced 
 the force, with which he struck the fore-finger of his 
 right hand, against the document. '' Charles the Fifth ! 
 do you mark ?" and the dauntless desperado repeated 
 the stroke. " If the emperor, and his brother," he con- 
 tinued, pointing, with his finger, impressively to different 
 parts of the writing, " will scatter their promissory 
 temptations through Europe, 'tis at their own risk. A 
 fraction of the mighty recompence they engage for, will, 
 through the church's charitable alchemy, root out, from 
 our souls, whatever vile excrescence, obedience to their 
 majesties might engraft there. But thou art dumb." 
 
 " Not so," responded Vicchy, in a broken voice, " I was 
 but marvelling what offence either Peter Pereny, or this 
 lad can have committed, against Ferdinand and Charles, 
 that they should join in seeking their lives, with such 
 pertinacity ; or how it can be worth their while, to drain 
 their exchequer for such an object." 
 
 " That concerns us not," replied the other ; '' they, 
 p 2
 
 316 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 doubtless, have their sufficing reasons, or they think so, 
 which comes to the same thing." 
 
 *' Know you no cause ?" asked Vicchy, much in that 
 procrastinating spirit, with which, we recollect, when a 
 child, to have turned from the nauseous drug, we knew, 
 we should have, at last, to swallow. 
 
 " Men say," returned the unknown, " that Pereny 
 played the traitor before Buda, and was the occasion of 
 Roccandolph's defeat, by the lord regent. If so, he well 
 merits his punishment ; though why his life should be 
 pursued so rancorously, is not stated in the proclama- 
 tion, nor do I pretend to conjecture. But we are losing 
 time." 
 
 " Oh, no, we are not," cried Vicchy, eagerly; " while 
 you converse, I forget myself. In pity, talk on. Would 
 you have my aid herein, we must dally awhile ; say any 
 thing, only let me hear your voice. Speak on some in- 
 different matter ; tell me, how it is, that, Pereny is still 
 alive, in the teeth of the deadly will of Ferdinand and 
 Charles. By what means has he eluded their vengeance ?" 
 
 '* By disguise, flight, and keeping out of the way ? 
 The graf would out-do Proteus, yet I will reach his 
 heart, and set my seal upon him. You must know, for 
 a time, he found a fautorer in Solyman ; but the sultan 
 has lately left him to bis shifts, not approving, as the 
 report goes, of his having suffered the princess Beatrice, 
 to slip so easily through his fingers — but you know most 
 about that raptus." 
 
 " A truce, sir, to such insinuations : there's offence in 
 what you say," replied Vicchy, in a tone of austere 
 gravity. 
 
 ''Well, well, as you will ; your cheek hath now the 
 true livery. Oh, how bravely that hasty spark of anger 
 shows in you ! But this gossip is more than idle : have 
 you your weapon ?" 
 
 " It hangs in my room. In the hurry of the moment, 
 I forgot it," answered Vicchy, tremblingly.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 
 
 317 
 
 *' That was amiss," observed the other. " Here, take 
 mine, whilst I find my way to the apartment, where we 
 spoke this morning, to seize hold of that jewelled spear, 
 suspended against the wainscot. Now for action." 
 
 *• But leave me a minute's thought, I beg," implored 
 Vicchy, his heart almost failing him ; " perchance, we 
 are wrong." 
 
 " Not a second, man," answered the unknown : ** you 
 allowed, this morning, you had sufficient motives for the 
 deed. I found you apt ; why need I repeat my argu- 
 ment — amazing wealth !" 
 
 "But, ah! the sin," interrupted Vicchy, in atone of 
 nervous emotion ; " the sin !" 
 
 "Pshaw! St. Peter's key is of gold. A trifling pe- 
 nance. Nay, nay, nay ; think rather of your revenge. 
 Pereny, recollect, might have prevented your attainder ; 
 since he, at all events, must have known your innocence. 
 Be of good cheer. Revenge, which the gods were said 
 to begrudge us mortals, and monopolize to themselves. 
 Dost thou still hesitate? 'Sdeath, what wouldst thou 
 have ?" 
 
 Vicchy rose, and walked away. He pressed his hand 
 to his brow. " 'Tis a horrid crime !" he said, shudder- 
 ingly, reseating himself, at the foot of the bed. 
 
 "That will gold remit; but I tell you, 'tis none. 
 Think yourself the executioner of justice, and well fee'd 
 too ; since I swear to thee again, thou shalt have a 
 moiety of the reward. Why dost shake, like a girl in a 
 fever? What a coil is here ! Revenge, wealth, on the one 
 hand; on the other, exposure — death I Rise, Eissenburg, 
 and be a man !" 
 
 " I am both ways lost," cried Vicchy ; " but where," 
 he whispered, " where sleeps the boy ?" 
 
 " In the next chamber," replied the villain. 
 
 " So near !" said the other. 
 
 Ao;-ain he slowly rose, and tottered across the room, 
 seeming to move with difficulty. His face was contorted.
 
 318 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 and there was a shrinking of his body, which not un- 
 aptly represented the strife and loathing within him. 
 After some moments, he abruptly came up to the unknown 
 — " Take back this iron aspic," he cried, in a half scream, 
 *' I cannot slay, where is no resistance." 
 
 '' Then, my lord, will the blackened features, which 
 Veronica loves, become the perch of crows," said the 
 other drily. 
 
 "And better it were so; better my grave were the maw 
 of carrion, than shed innocent blood," rejoined Hubert, 
 with deep feeling. 
 
 "Besides," persisted the young and subtle instigator, 
 without heeding, or perhaps hearing him, " the prophecy 
 of Unna, touching the crown of Hungary, will be of no 
 avail ; its fulfilment being contingent on the death of 
 this boy." Thus glozed the serpent, and Vicchy's reso- 
 lution was shaken. 
 
 " You say right ; so it was. Well, I will cast the gold, 
 at the foot of the altar, and perhaps — " The casuist 
 stopped short. The anticipated possibility of Heaven's 
 pardon, he dared not breathe aloud. — "Only," shortly 
 added the wretched father, " suffer me to awake Vero- 
 nica, that she may be in readiness." 
 
 " Not before the deed be done," objected the other, 
 with a suppressed, and portentous sort of chuckle. " Re- 
 member, one blow, and sure. There must be no death- 
 moan, to alarm the house. Then sever the head clean 
 from the shoulders ; we lose our labour else. I'll deal 
 with Pereny in the same sort. He's in the chapel, doing 
 penance ; he could not die more seasonably for salva- 
 tion. Do you wait on the spot, till T join you." 
 
 " What, all alone with the decapitated trunk !" said 
 Vicchy, with an internal shiver. 
 
 " Tush ! man, I'll warrant 'twill not harm you," re- 
 turned the other. " After having overpowered the war- 
 der, you may arouse your child, and then we have nothing 
 to do but to decamp."
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 319 
 
 *' Who has the ordering of the horses ?" inquired 
 Vicchy. 
 
 " Unna," was the reply. *' She is even now without, 
 waiting for us. Are you resolved ?" 
 
 " I think I am," murmured the infatuated man ; while 
 the idea of his fallen condition burned, like living coal 
 in his heart. 
 
 '* That's well," said the unknown. " I go. Mark 
 me — ere two minutes elapse, I reach down the spear 
 from the wall ; in two more, I calculate to arrive at the 
 chapel ; a fifth, and Pereny is a headless corpse. Do 
 you time your movements to mine : courage !" and the 
 dreadful man passed without the chamber. 
 
 How can we dive into the mysterious recesses of the 
 human heart, or how explain the torture, the hesitation, 
 the conflicting passions, which held the mind of Vicchy, 
 '* like to a little kingdom in a state of insurrection !" 
 This instant, his hand compressed his sword's hilt, with 
 the desperate energy of a maniac ; and the next, he cast 
 the weapon from him, with horror and indignation, re- 
 solved to lend a deaf ear to the whisperings of his venal 
 nature, and not to act the hireling bravo, though only 
 thereby he might insure his child a diadem, or " reprieve 
 him from the wrath of greatest justice." In this dubious 
 and tumultuous dilemma, Vicchy 's soul hovered on the 
 verge of the tremendous abyss. In vain, he conjured up 
 every palliative, that he could think of, to quiet tlie indig- 
 nant remonstrances of conscience — in vain, he pleaded 
 hard, that self-preservation left him no choice — in vain, he 
 called to mind the augury of the sybil, and revolved the 
 contingent contrast of amazing Avealth, and abject pe- 
 nury — in vain, he endeavoured to trust m the facility of 
 repentance ; in the unbounded goodness of his church to 
 her wealthy suppliants — whether as anodynes, or stimu- 
 lants, these suggestions were of no avail. Not all the 
 
 SUBTLETY OF ViCCHY's REASONING COULD RAISE THE 
 
 DEVIL. " Who hesitates, is lost," is a fiction of the poet,
 
 320 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 just as applicable, at any rate, to the one sex as to the 
 other ; 'tis, indeed, with some qualification, the condition 
 of tottering humanity ; and he was a traducer, who 
 would have confined the aphorism to the purer half of 
 our species ; but, whether predicated of man or woman, 
 the maxim, like most other apothegms, is stated in terms, 
 much too unqualified. No, 'Uhanks to the human 
 heart, by which we live !" while the scale yet vibrates, 
 even though the fraction of a scruple might incline the 
 balance, our better angel has not abandoned us. There 
 is no calculating on the tenacity, with which strong virtue 
 links itself to our nature, and who shall set bounds to 
 the goodness of God ? 'Tis hard to wrestle with our 
 wish, in opposition to habit, and temptation, and all that 
 the world makes strong ; 'tis harder to come off victori- 
 ous, but it is not impossible ; and whosoever hath made 
 diligent inquiry into human nature, or hath observed the 
 disposition of his own soul — by what springs it is moved, 
 and how it is operated on, and corrected — will readily 
 acknowledge, that he is free to coquet with the evil one, 
 to within a hair's breadth of compliance, and yet ulti- 
 mately hold out ; and so, perhaps, will his virtues come 
 out more refined, and energetic, from the very struggle, 
 which inferred their ruin. Let us, then, hear no more of 
 this bon mot of Roscommon. Alas ! the race of Adam 
 yet inherits too great a portion of the wavering, and in- 
 stability, which characterised our frail progenitors; such 
 a persuasion, as we here protest against, were as bands of 
 iron, round a vicious inclination ; and really, in our opi- 
 nion, only the artifice of the soul's adversary could have 
 passed so insidious a sentiment into a proverb. " Qua 
 nulla pernicies major hominum vitse potuit afferri."* 
 
 A minute had already elapsed, and Vicchy had still to 
 silence the whispering voice within. We have some- 
 where intimated, or meant to do so, that the Hungarian 
 
 * Cicero, De Off. xi. 3. See also, to the same purport, Alison's 
 Sermons, vol. ii. p. 432.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 
 
 321 
 
 noble, might rather be regarded as weak, than unprin- 
 cipled ; and, on finding himself borne along, to the very 
 point of such horrible, and revolting crime, the peril of 
 his position, excited an emotion of horror, vrith which 
 the reader will readily sympathize. It appears wonderful, 
 how the unknown came to trust to the assistance of such 
 a neophyte ; a man, too, possessed of such a wavering 
 disposition, as that, w^hich Vicchy had exhibited ; but 
 having, himself, at a single coup d'essai, " fallen such a 
 pernicious height,"* the accomplished ruffian {repente 
 turpissimus) , might not be aware, by what compunctious, 
 and progressive steps, most men descend iniquity's gra- 
 duated scale. Three minutes went by as a second, and 
 the mind of Vicchy tossed and surged, with the tempest 
 of his emotion. A kind of paralysis came over him, which 
 was the more discomfiting, that he seemed bereaved of 
 all consistent thinking. Over all his ideas, however, one 
 demoniac impulse held tyrant sw^ay, unto which he 
 longed to give the reins, in order to escape from the tor- 
 turing, giddiness, and agony of mind, which resistance, 
 and incertitude occasioned. 
 
 In the meantime, the howling of the storm, never, 
 for an instant, ceased, and it seemed, to the excited 
 mind of Vicchy, that the congregated bolts of Heaven, 
 were beino; hurled ao^ainst the devoted mansion. He 
 clasped his hands together, and, pressing them to his 
 forehead, hid his face upon the bed. Thought with him 
 was stagnant. Even as he lay, thus spell bound, all 
 at once, between the intervals of the crashing elements, 
 a soft sigh vibrated, so close on his ear, that, as it 
 were, he could feel its touch ; he raised his head, and 
 listened — it was not repeated. Shifting his position, 
 he saw that he was alone ; there was no time for surprise, 
 for now he hears a hasty footstep hurrying along the 
 corridor. The gentle suspiration, he had just caught, is 
 " back resounded," and echoed, with an emphasis, such 
 
 * Milton, 
 p 5
 
 322 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 as '' hell sighed from all her caves, at the hideous name 
 of Death," what time the abhorred offspring of Sin 
 broke through the torn entrails of his incestuous mother, 
 and with an inflamed visage and distracted gestures, he, 
 that heaved that groan, rushed, breathlessly into the 
 chamber. Vicchy trembled. '' Sceptered damnation ! — 
 we must be betrayed ! — the spear is removed from the 
 wall !" was all that, at first, the passionate villain could 
 utter, through his clenched teeth. His one eye shot fire, 
 and his nostrils were distended, partly, perhaps, with 
 rage, but, also, evidencing the indomitable resolution of 
 his nature. " He shall not escape me this time, notwith- 
 standing !" he cried; "give me my sword again?" 
 Vicchy, only the minute before, had thrown the 
 weapon from him ; he looked for it upon the bed — 
 started — searched the room, but the instrument was not 
 discoverable. The other, whilst he watched his move- 
 ments, reciprocated the astonishment, which could be 
 plainly read in Hubert's countenance. In three words, 
 he was informed of the loss of the sword, though its 
 disappearance could not be accounted for. 
 
 *' Now do you suppose," he replied, " that I'll be 
 fobbed off in this fashion?" and, then, he proceeded to 
 accuse Vicchy, in no measured terms, of practising trea- 
 chery ; the latter rebutted the charge, and vehemently 
 protested his ignorance of how the weapon had been con- 
 veyed away. 
 
 " I must take your word," said the unknown, seeming 
 to check his rising passion ; " since, in the present exi- 
 gence, I have nothing else for it ; but, rely upon this, if 
 you, indeed, play me false, nor time, nor place shall 
 screen you from my vengeance. When you least expect 
 it, at dead of night, I may draw your curtain, or come 
 upon you, in the very heart of rest. Understand, dis- 
 tinctly, Eissenburg, I have a hand and poniard, to reach 
 a traitor's bosom, were he sheltered, under the capacious 
 purple of Cardinal Martinuzzi, or, for that matter, of his 
 Holiness himself — so sure as you betray me, so surely
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 323 
 
 Will I prosecute, and obtain revenge." He paused ; and 
 Vicchy, plunged in thought, received this intimation, in 
 moody silence. 
 
 " But your sword hangs in your chamber, you say," re- 
 sumed the ruffian ; '' Wait here — I'll be back, with the 
 grafs head, in a twinkling;" and again the ruthless des- 
 perado quitted the apartment. But not, as in the former 
 instance, did he leave Vicchy a prey to doubt and hor- 
 ror — the removal of the jewelled spear — the unac- 
 countable disappearance of that, with which the ruffian 
 had entrusted him, were startling incidents, which as- 
 sumed all the appearance of a direct interposition from 
 above. Nay, Vicchy viewed these unexpected obstacles, 
 thrown in the way of murder, as an index of the line of 
 conduct, which the emergency required of him. Tt was 
 but the turn of an atom in the scale, but that was 
 enough. The unknown's hasty, and ill-timed insinuation 
 of treachery, and the jarring to which it gave occasion, 
 however momentary, operated, like the sprinkling of cold 
 water on one in a syncope, and renewed the tone and 
 elasticity of Vicchy's mind. Influenced by causes, which 
 he looked upon as little less than miraculous, he felt 
 impelled to save the life of the very youth, who, only a 
 minute before, was within an ace of becoming his victim. 
 With nervous trepidation, he measured the few steps to 
 the entrance of the adjoining chamber, and there stood, 
 half a minute, to recover his self-possession. The room, 
 into which he felt his way, was involved in pitchy dark- 
 ness. Fearing, that the moments were too precious to 
 admit of his now remedying his inadvertence in not 
 having brought with him the lamp, and thinking, at once 
 to awaken Sigismund, and apprize him of the danger, in 
 which he stood of his life, that the lad might seek pro- 
 tection of some of the household, Vicchy immediately 
 advanced forward ; but as he knew neither the size, nor 
 local hindrances of the apartment, he was obliged to 
 grope his way, with a stealthy and ill-assured step. In
 
 324 
 
 MA"NUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 this unnatural, and constrained attitude, he had pro- 
 ceeded a few paces, when his ear caught a faint yell, 
 succeeded by the cries of terror, and the groans of death, 
 which appeared to proceed from a remote part of the 
 building. Then he apprehended that the bloody work 
 was going on, and knew that he had not a moment to lose. 
 "Arise!" he cried, in a vehement whisper, " arise, 
 Sir Sigismund, and save yourself — you will be mur- 
 dered else. What, ho ! — boy up ! and escape while 
 yet you may." He had scarcely spoken these words, 
 when a short and wild shriek, uttered, even within a yard 
 of the spot, he stood on, pierced his senses, followed by 
 a noise, which sounded like the fall of a human being 
 upon the floor. There was something in the cry, pain- 
 fully familiar to him — perhaps his Veronica ; but that 
 was too terrible for belief! and Hubert held his breath — 
 his heart stood still — he remained rooted to the spot, 
 while the cold drops burst out from every pore : 
 
 Oh ! that fear, 
 
 When the heart longs to know what it is death to hear."* 
 
 At the same moment, there were hurryings to and fro — 
 then came shouts and clamour — the clashing of swords 
 and the report of fire arms ; and then, the shrill and 
 soul-harrowing exclamation from a hundred voices, of 
 "murder!" and the thunder pealed, and the vociferation 
 seemed to be reverberated — horrible murder ! — and again, 
 and yet again, below — around — far — near, resounded the 
 cry of " murder! murder ! murder !" — 
 
 so from the body of a single deed, 
 
 A thousand ghastly fears and haunting thoughts proceed."t 
 
 The din of elements, and the human outcry mingled their 
 horrors ; but the uproar within doors was more awful than 
 the raging of the storm. " Murder ! sacrilege ! seize the 
 villain!" resounded from every quarter. The voices ap- 
 
 * Croly. t Wordsworth.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 325 
 
 proaclied. Presently, after a pause in the elemental 
 *' hurly burly," of unusual duration, there succeeded 
 a far louder clap of thunder than any yet, and the light- 
 ning, which glared away the darkness, quivered along 
 the blade of an extended weapon, right before the eyes of 
 Vicchy ; but even louder than the loud thunder, rose the 
 shriek of the raagnat, as his distracted vision glanced on 
 the being, who still upheld that instrument of death, 
 though her form and features, which were worth all the 
 world to him, lay stretched on the floor, all wan and 
 lifeless. 
 
 The next minute darkness returned, and her father 
 raised the inanimate child in his arms, to convey her to 
 the light. His was a vain endeavour, to loosen from her 
 grasp the naked scimitar. Half way between the two 
 rooms, he was compelled to stand on one side, to let pass 
 a crowd of armed domestics, bearing along with them the 
 murderer, disarmed, and bleeding at every pore. His light 
 hair was scorched, and dabbled in gore, and his hands 
 were incarnadine, with the same horrid fluid. Just as the 
 party came up to where the two were stationed, Veronica, 
 with a short convulsive grasp, recovered her conscious- 
 ness ; but, on beholding the blood-stained spectacle of 
 the assassin, she echoed shriek on shriek, with childish 
 reiteration, whilst her father himself was soon incapaci- 
 tated, from his vain attempts at quieting her terrors. 
 "The villain's confederate!" shouted several voices; ''lay 
 hands on him." At the words, the person of Vicchy 
 was forcibly, held captive. To no purpose Veronica 
 vociferated, in a tone of deep emotion, " He is innocent ! he 
 is innocent ! he would have saved Sir Sigismund." Her 
 piercing exclamations rent the air ; but on the air they 
 spent their force — 
 
 her words of flame, 
 
 And mightier looks availed not.' 
 • Shellev.
 
 326 MANUSCRIPTS OP ERDELY. 
 
 All had too good grounds, they believed, wherewith to 
 substantiate the guilt of Vicchy, and, in their first exas- 
 peration, at the crime of the murderer, and bitter joy at 
 his detection, they had no room for sympathy, with his 
 child, and were scarcely in a frame of mind to suspend, or 
 forego their hallowed anger. 
 
 But how felt that wretched man ? As one, from off 
 whose conscience a fearful load has been removed. 
 True, he was in durance, but that very circumstance, 
 by showing him the brink, on which he had stood, 
 made his heart rebound, in gratitude for his redemp- 
 tion. True, he was about to be carried off to imprison- 
 ment on a charge of murder, but he owned the conscious 
 freedom from blood-guiltiness, which he was so near for- 
 feiting, and felt, that the hand of him, who spake the soul 
 into being was upon him — Digitus Dei est hie! 
 
 With w^hat different emotions, and environed by what 
 dreadful circumstances, might he not, at that moment, 
 have been under arrest ! The contrast struck him with 
 awe and gratitude, to think, that his soul was still white. 
 *' HaVd Istennek!^ " he murmured to himself with deep 
 emotion — *' Hal'a Istennek!" With these words, he leant 
 over his daughter, sobbing like a child ; but such tears 
 were sweet, and for the first time, since he had entered that 
 house, Vicchy might be said to be comparatively happy. 
 His state of mind, however, though it has required many 
 words for explanation, and analysis, was condensed into a 
 single emotion, which was, in him, the birth of an instant. 
 The guard of retainers, armed with carabines, and swords, 
 hurried the prisoners forward, into that same refectory, 
 where the venerable Count Rodna had first welcomed 
 Vicchy to the shelter of his hospitable roof. Veronica 
 entered, with the general rush, clinging close to her 
 father's knees. Here the party halted for a moment, for 
 the purpose of having the murderer and his accomplice 
 ironed. 
 
 * God be thanked.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 327 
 
 The dauntless intrepidity of the youthful assassin, 
 was bottomed on iiiditagelmtoia, that happy decision, and 
 undoubting confidence, in his own powers of mind, in 
 moments of difficulty and danger, which habitual suc- 
 cess is qualified to produce, and which may be consi- 
 dered essential points in the composition of the heroic 
 character. He was fully sensible of his perilous situa- 
 tion, but his spirit, instead of blenching beneath the 
 sudden disaster, expanded to meet the magnitude of the 
 risk, and proved itself equal to the crisis : II pent prendre 
 son parti. Struck to the earth, he yet stood, like a fresh 
 Antseus, and, in the extremity of his fate, his springy 
 spirit rebounded, and made itself triumphant. With a 
 searching eye, he looked about, in what way he might 
 recover his liberty, and the quickness of his genius sug- 
 gested an expedient, which circumstances seemed to 
 favour. Suddenly, and almost at unawares, he extricated 
 his sword-arm, out of the gripe of his right-hand guard, 
 and, as he tripped up the fellow's heels, snatched a cara- 
 bine from his baldric. With the butt-end, he dashed to 
 the ground one near him, who had raised a dagger within 
 a hand's breadth of his bosom. Seized by another as- 
 sailant, he brought the muzzle of the carabine, within an 
 inch of his head, and, firing, shot him dead upon the 
 spot : then, wielding an arm of iron, he either struck 
 down, or shook oflT, the restraint of such as closed around 
 him, and, with a bound, like that of a tiger, clearing 
 the space to where Veronica, trembling and pale, stood, 
 near her father, wrenched the sword, she held, perhaps, 
 unconsciously, out of the child's grasp, and, at once, 
 sprung upon his assailants, with the fury of a hunted 
 lion, among a pack of hounds. All this passed like suc- 
 cessive flashes of the lightning. It happened, that the 
 defence of the domestics was weakened, and their object 
 distracted, by the apparent necessity of maintaining 
 guard over the prisoner, who remained inactive. Pro- 
 fiting by this imperfect resistance, the dauntless villain, 
 nerved with a strength, few men could boast, pressed his
 
 328 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 advantage, with such skill and vigour, that his dismayed 
 opponents recoiled from him on all sides. The greater 
 number of those, who were not disabled, or sent on the 
 pilgrimage of death, were collected, at the upper end of the 
 apartment. As the fray relaxed, carabines were loaded, 
 and discharged at the unconquerable swordsman, but his 
 sweeping movements, and the rapidity of his attacks, 
 mocked the random aim of men, in the confusion of such 
 a scene; though, indeed, he might hardly, much longer, 
 have escaped the detached shot, which whizzed around 
 him, if, from the commencement, he had not ascertained 
 a mode of deliverance, which Heaven itself seemed to 
 open to him. The strife being still at the hottest, he 
 darted off, with the speed and fierceness of a falcon in its 
 stoop, to the opposite side of the apartment. Availing 
 himself of a ledge, which jutted out beneath the window, 
 he caught, gymnastically, with his hand, at one of th& 
 pointed arches, which had resisted the thunderbolt of the 
 preceding day, and, at his clutch, a considerable portion 
 of the shafted casement, worn by time, or else injured by 
 the lightning, fell, inward, with a tremendous crash. 
 In an instant after, his athletic form was seen towerino- 
 in the breach, as in mid air. There, with a hoarse laugh 
 of defiance, he poised himself for a moment, and then, 
 whilst a dozen bullets rattled, impotent, against the 
 mouldering framework, the baffled marksmen might 
 catch the splashing sound without, which told that he 
 had plunged, into the v/aters of the moat. Thus the un- 
 known assured his safety, and his enraged guards, judg- 
 ing it hopeless to endeavour to recapture him, were re- 
 solved, that the remaining delinquent should not likewise 
 effect his escape. For greater security, as handcuffs 
 were not forthcoming, they proceeded to pinion his arms 
 over the elbows, by a strong cord, drawn tight round the 
 body, and carefully knotted behind. While this was 
 being made fast, the door, at the lower end of the room 
 unclosed, and a number of the retainers of the house-
 
 MANUSCRIPT VII. 329 
 
 hold were seen advancing-, in mournful procession, bear- 
 ing the gory corpse of him, who had been murdered, at 
 the foot of the altar. The body was here deposited on 
 the large table, in the middle of the apartment. The 
 eyes of Vicchy were naturally turned to the spot. There 
 stood the monk, whom he had twice before fallen in with 
 beneath that roof, and whom, likewise, he had beheld, 
 under mysterious circumstances, during his absence with, 
 the homicide ; his face, which was overshadowed by his 
 cowl, was gently bent over the corpse, and he appeared 
 absorbed in contemplation of that gory spectacle. Pre- 
 sently, Vicchy's looks encountered those of a man, who 
 stood a short way off, with folded arras and a thoughtful 
 eye. He started. " Merciful powers !" he murmured, 
 '' can it be he ? — Pereny ! — alive and unharmed ! If, 
 if thou art not a mockery, — what cold, stiff, and sense- 
 less clod of earth is that, whose ghastly form lies 
 stretched upon the bloody table ? Whom has the assas- 
 sin sacriJicedV He gazed wildly in the direction of the 
 corpse, but the course of his thoughts was here inter- 
 rupted by the lad Sigismund, who, in uncontrollable agi- 
 tation, threw himself beside the dead body, bursting out 
 in a tone, which went through the hearts of all present — 
 " My more than father, dost thou lie there, weltering 
 in thy blood ? Let me mingle my tears with the precious 
 current — and is grief then all the incense, thy bleeding 
 corpse should obtain ? Alas ! I have none else ; but a 
 day may come — yes, a day may come, when thy ashes 
 shall be bedewed, and thy spirit appeased, with manlier 
 offerings, and yet this blood may call down retribution ; 
 till when, the curse of Cain be on thy murderer I and, be 
 this my memory." Saying these words, he tore off the 
 corner of a light silken scarf, from the waist of the mur- 
 dered man, and pressing it in the ensanguined die, thus 
 subjoined, in a more solemn tone : *' I vow, through all 
 time, and all change, to bear this property about me, till 
 hereafter, I come across the author of this butchery !
 
 330 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 when I will steep it in his heart's best blood ; so help 
 me God, at my need, as I fulfil my engagement, and ex- 
 piate thy death — friend, protector, cherisher of the 
 friendless orphan !" and the boy, placing the shred 
 within his vest, fell, weeping, on the floor. 
 
 A piteous exclamation, or yell of deep grief, burst 
 from the assembled retainers of the murdered count, 
 which, presently, gave place to the graver lament of 
 Pereny, who, deeply moved, bent over the body. " And 
 art thou gone before me, my friend ? — exile of Caledo- 
 nia 1 Hath thy long pilgrimage closed at last, in blood ? 
 Whom have I now to speak to, of the glory and 
 shame of the past, the horrors of the present, or the 
 chances of the future ? In whose sympathising ear shall 
 I confide my misfortunes ? Thou couldst, indeed, feel 
 for the Hungarian magnat ; for as our fate was not dissi- 
 milar, so our woes were the same ; thou readest my grief 
 in thine own heart. Oh ! would to God, I were laid be- 
 side thee, my last, my only friend !" Vicchy heard no 
 more, for now he, and his daughter were withdrawn from 
 the apartment.
 
 ma:nuscript viii. 331 
 
 MANUSCRIPT VIII. 
 
 " Bis ille miser, qui serus amavit." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 '* Upon those pallid lips, 
 So sweet, even in their silence — on those eyes. 
 That image sleep in death — upon that form. 
 Yet safe from the worms' outrage, let no tear 
 Be shed, — not even in thought." 
 
 Alastor. 
 
 Virtuous men pass mildly away. 
 And whisper to their souls to go : 
 While some of their sad friends do say. 
 The breath goes now ; and some say, no !" 
 
 DoxxE. 
 
 We think it right, in order to clear the way, for the more 
 important, and, perhaps, more interesting- scene wliich pre- 
 sently will begin to open, to elucidate, forthwith, one or 
 two points in the last chapter, which, lying, as it were, 
 out of our direct path, we were diverted from noticing, at 
 the time, by the rapid and straight-forward tenor of our 
 narrative. Having, however, helped our principal actor 
 off the stage, via the window, we find we have breath and 
 leisure to look about us, and are quite ready to resolve 
 any difficulty, to the satisfaction of the fair reader. You 
 take us at our word, you say. Much obliged, my dear 
 young lady ; be pleased to mention what explanation you 
 require, and we will set about giving it accordingly. 
 The Reader. — Imprimis, then, Mr. S. (excuse my
 
 332 MATvrUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 familiarity), may I ask, by whose agency the jewelled 
 spear came to be removed away so opportunely, from 
 where it was slung, over the chimney-piece? — Answer. 
 By that of Veronica, who, having overheard the dis- 
 guised homicide signify his intention of using it, in the 
 deed he meditated, hit upon that mode of frustrating his 
 designs. Impelled, by that fearless decision, we love to 
 recognise in her character, after hurriedly slipping on 
 some light body-dress, she stole, on tiptoe, with a beat- 
 ing heart, and a cheek, pale at her own purpose, into the 
 salle-d-maiigeVj and carried the sword thence, into her 
 own chamber. 
 
 The Reader. — Prodigious ! a fine child of her years, 
 truly ! — and this occurred in the dark ? Did she jump at 
 it, or pray did the weapon, like an autumnal fruit, drop 
 into her lap of its own volition ? — Answer. My fair critic 
 is pleased to be facetious ; but the sword, in question, bore 
 no resemblance to those spears of Mars,* cited by Julius 
 Obsequens ; and, besides, Veronica did not work in the 
 dark. She luckily remembered observing, in the room, 
 where, on the preceding evening, the several members 
 of the household had congregated, more than one lamp 
 on a side-table. This room happened to branch off from 
 the gallery, midway between her own chamber, and the 
 refectory. Thither, in the first instance, with light and 
 quick steps, she necessarily repaired. As a feeble blaze 
 yet glimmered, in the hearth, she found no difficulty in 
 obtaining a light, which, of course, facilitated her sub- 
 sequent operations. 
 
 Now, we are ready to acknowledge, that the sword 
 came into her possession, by a sadly common-place pro- 
 cess, although we are in our fair critic's judgment, whe- 
 ther it was not one, which, under the circumstances, was 
 perfectly natural. She raised herself within reach of 
 the weapon, by mounting a table. 
 
 * " Hastae Martis in regia snk sponte motae."
 
 MANUSCRIPT VIII. 
 
 333 
 
 The Reader. — Quite an exploit! — and I suppose we 
 are to ascribe, to the same officious little lady, the 
 purloining of the other sword ? — Answer, 
 
 The conjecture does credit to your discernment, madam : 
 she had not returned to her room, above a minute, ere the 
 stranger quitted her father. We need scarcely remark 
 on the state of exaltation, to which the mind of Vero- 
 nica was wrought. She had been governed by an almost 
 preternatural impulse, in venturing on the bold feat, she 
 had just accomplished, and the excitation of her spirits, 
 which bore her successfully, through so arduous an ad- 
 venture, had not yet subsided. 
 
 The reader may object, perhaps, the incompatibility 
 of the incident, we have recorded, with the fewness of the 
 years of Veronica. With the pride, which custom autho- 
 rizes, and which originally takes its rise from his phy- 
 sical superiority, although that be often the only advan- 
 tage he can claim, the adult looks down, from his fancied 
 height, on the inexperience of the child, and is apt to 
 believe his nature too unripe, to put forth those mental 
 resources, in moments of extremity, which even manhood, 
 not seldom, fails to exhibit. How far this presumption 
 of juvenile incapacity may have a certain coincidence 
 with the fact, from its tendency, like prophecy, to lend 
 a helping hand to its own fulfilment, we are not pre- 
 pared to say ; but we know, that examples occasionally 
 occur, at that immature period, of the simultaneous con- 
 ceptiouj and execution, of extraordinary deeds, depend- 
 ing, for their fortunate issue, on the native energy, and 
 courage of the actor, which w^ould not discredit the sus- 
 tained and habitual character of riper years. 
 
 Veronica, with shame and agony, apprehended, that 
 her father had been deluded, by the sophistry of the 
 unknown. She shuddered at the thought, even as his 
 better angel, in such a straight, might be supposed to 
 tremble for his soul. She was not aware, that, in igno- 
 rance of the translocation, which had taken place, his
 
 334 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 dreadful purpose would lead him into the bed-chamber, 
 she then occupied. Whom he meant to assassinate, she 
 could not guess, nor, indeed, could her mind easily 
 admit the possibility of such a crime ; but her good ge- 
 nius, stimulated by filial love, and fertile in expedients, 
 as it first prompted her to frustrate the villany of the 
 ruffian, so it afterwards inspired her, with like resolution, 
 to disarm her father. Having witnessed the unconscious 
 movement, with which Vicchy tossed the weapon upon the 
 bed, she took advantage of his abstraction, to stealthily 
 trip along the floor of the room, and steal away the in- 
 strument. Then she awaited the event, in a state of 
 wretchedness, which only those can conceive, who, like 
 her, have had to weep over the frailty of a parent. 
 What was her consternation, when she found Hubert 
 pass, from the adjacent chamber, into hers! The child 
 could not conjecture his object; she stood, speechless 
 with affright, racked, by the double agony of terror and 
 suspense. But, when she gleaned from his words, that, 
 far from meditating evil, her father had come, in fact, 
 with the view to warn Sir Sigismund of his danger, 
 the sudden conviction struck her, that she had all 
 along misapprehended his purpose. The ecstatic joy 
 of which idea, caused that revulsion of spirits, the effect 
 of which we have elsewhere described. 
 
 Have you, my fair critic, any further inquiry to put ? 
 
 The Reader. — Oh, a dozen. Pray, how happened " the 
 great unknown" to blunder so egregiously as to kill one 
 man for another ? Was it not the villain's design solely 
 to compass the death of Pereny ? I admit, his homicidal 
 nature might discover, in the reward offered, a sufficient 
 temptation to commit that crime, and, perhaps, (such a 
 microscopic eye is villany cursed with,) he might descry 
 some justification, in the alleged treason of his victim. 
 But why make a merit with Satan, by slaying Count 
 Rodna ? What " stoned his heart," that he should " do 
 a murder," when he merely intended " a sacrifice ?" —
 
 MANUSCRIPT VIII. 335 
 
 Author. My dear young lady, you are really excru- 
 ciating ; you do run on so. If you will only allow us to 
 edge in a syllable, we believe we can clear up this point 
 to your satisfaction. The unknown, in the course of his 
 inquiries respecting the topography of the chateau, had 
 ascertained, amongst other particulars, that the graf 
 Pereny was in the habit of spending the greater part of 
 the night in the private chapel, which was appended to 
 the mansion. One portal of this consecrated building was 
 fantastically carved and heavy, and, withal, so dilapi- 
 dated by time, and overgrown with speckled lichen, 
 that it might not wholly close, though continually 
 flapping, in the wind, against its frame. This entrance, 
 from the internal quadrangle, was indiscriminately used 
 by the v.hole household. Happening to pass, on the 
 previous night, the stranger had remarked a man, kneel- 
 ing before an opposite shrine, and hence, he concluded, 
 with too great precipitance, that this individual could be 
 no other, than his destined victim. 
 
 The body of the chapel was usually appropriated to 
 the religious worship of the ol ttoWoi ; thence, a few stairs 
 led into a narrow, small oratory, sanctified by containing 
 a painting of the Virgin, reported to possess sundry mi- 
 raculous properties. Here a private door opened into 
 the interior of the mansion, and directly communicated 
 with the gallery. It was through this door, that Vicchy 
 (as he and Donald traversed the lobby) beheld Pereny 
 in the act of genuflection, before the shrine of Our Lady. 
 The unknown, having armed himself with Vicchy's sword, 
 cautiously crossed the narrow court, and glided into the 
 chapel, through the open door. As if he trod upon 
 trembling ice, he measured the trifling distance, from the 
 entrance of the oratory to the holy crypt, where the pious 
 votary, with riveted eye, and abased mien, seemed em- 
 bodied with the flag-pavement, on which he knelt. The 
 light of one long waxen taper, which twinkled before the 
 crucifix, struggled through the misty atmosphere of the
 
 336 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 chapel, and shed a faint, yet direct gleam, on the bent 
 head of the crouching worshipper. Owing to that deep 
 posture of humiliation, it was impossible to distinguish 
 his form and features ; but, acting on his previous mis- 
 conception, the wily ruffian shortly stood right over the 
 solitary suppliant. 
 
 " Hold !" thundered a single voice in his ear. It 
 came, alas ! too late. Count Rodna, in the same in- 
 stant, fell, pierced to the heart, and, in the next, the 
 sword of Donald was struck from his palsied hand. 
 At that moment, Pereny rushed from the gallery, and 
 the retainers of the mansion crowded into the chapel, 
 by the way, which had given admittance to the as- 
 sassin. 
 
 In consequence of the mysterious intimation of the 
 phantom. Count Rodna had directed his household, to 
 hold themselves under arms during the night ; and Do- 
 nald, who had been the bearer of his master's orders, 
 directly afterwards, (owing to a private misgiving, which, 
 however indefinite, he thought he had cause to entertain,) 
 set himself to watch the chamber-door of Hubert. It 
 was closed, and he knew not the room was empty. He 
 had not lain long perdu, ere, to his surprise, he beheld 
 the unknown enter the apartment, and presently after, 
 observed him issue forth, armed with a naked sword. 
 With vague apprehensions floating on his mind, Donald 
 followed the steps of the villain, as closely as his age 
 and infirmities permitted ; but came up too tarddy to 
 prevent a catastrophe, which he could not have fore- 
 boded. His exclamations drew many of the household 
 into the chapel, with drawn rapiers, and looks of venge- 
 ance. 
 
 '' Oh ! my dear, dear master," murmured the dying se- 
 neschal — then upbraidingly fixing his eyes on the tru- 
 culent assassin, he proceeded, in feebler accents — 
 " Murderer ! you have slain the ." 
 
 What Donald would further have spoken " stuck in
 
 MANUSCRIPT VIII. 337 
 
 his throat," and the next minute he gave up his soul to 
 his Creator. 
 
 Meantime, the assassin encountered the attacks of the 
 multitude with his natural bravery : more than one of his 
 foes fell beneath his rapid strokes, whilst several were 
 maimed for life ; and it became doubtful, at one time, 
 how the contest would terminate; when, suddenly, the 
 sword of Vicchy snapped at the hilt, and although the 
 unknown, with only his long dirk, kept his assailants at 
 bay for a short period, he soon after offered to surrender. 
 The rest we have already told. q. e. d. 
 
 I see the gentle reader is prepared with another diffi- 
 culty. Let her, in as few words as may accord with the 
 privilege of her eloquent sex, start it, and we will S3t 
 about working the problem, without that minuteness of 
 detail, which were incompatible with the subordinate 
 place, which should belong to this episode, in tlie general 
 design of our history. 
 
 The Reader. — You are too polite by half, sir. Whi- 
 ther, then, did the " great unknown" lead Vicchy, when 
 the two set forth on their ramble, " in thunder, lightning, 
 and in rain ?" 
 
 Author. — Hearken, my dear. The pair soon lost 
 sight of the chateau : Vicchy exerted himself to keep up 
 with the swift, and steady pace of his terrible conductor, 
 almost mechanically ; whilst, breaking his path, through 
 bush and bramble, the villain led the way, in a zig-zag 
 and involved course, as if rather with the view of bewil- 
 dering his belated follower, amidst the intricacies of the 
 forest, than pursuing any certain direction. After walk- 
 ing, with extreme haste, for the space of an hour, the 
 unknown, suddenly, struck out of the woody depths, into 
 a very rugged, narrow footway, hemmed in between two 
 consistencies of mud and hedge, which bore all the cha- 
 racter of a steep, dirty lane, or rather gully. This 
 brought them, at length, before a natural insulated pro- 
 jection of rock, or stratified schist, impending in sharp 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 338 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 ridges, some few feet over the surface of a large dell, 
 and crowned by the frail flowers of the white saxifrage. 
 Within, was excavated a vast cavern, whose entrance, in 
 other respects hardly accessible, was, besides, effectually 
 screened from all chance-discovery, by the thicknesses 
 of myrtle, bramble, and dog-rose, which, springing from 
 the light stratum between the shelving of the rock, clus- 
 tered around, and there gave out their odours. These, 
 it seemed, being held in on one side, indicated two or 
 three narrow, and precarious steps of mica slate, which 
 descended through the jaws of the cave. It was neces- 
 sary to use a creeping posture, in order to find ingress, 
 and Vicchy, as he followed his leader through the com- 
 plicated foliage, and backed into the passage, though a 
 brave man, had some secret misgivings, which he would 
 willingly have hidden from himself, if the increased 
 throbbing of his heart had let him. Stifling, however, 
 his apprehensions, by an exertion which he deemed intre- 
 pidity, though it was nothing but winking cowardice, he 
 continued to descend, when, after a few yards, the width 
 of the gulf suddenly expanding, he was able to assume 
 an erect posture, and found himself standing in a roomy 
 cavern, the dimensions of which were lost, in customary 
 darkness. The veins of quartz, apparently imbedded 
 around, assumed, for a few paces, an almost argentine 
 character, owing to the red day-light glow, which, like a 
 fire of naphtha, at first, irradiated the mouth of the 
 cavern, though it rapidly faded into the Cimmerian 
 gloom, that wrapt the boundaries of the interior. Hubert 
 found the atmosphere neither so confined nor chill, as 
 might have been expected ; the free, and wholesome air 
 having vent, through some natural spiracles in the rock. 
 To such dark and dreary solitude, and shelter, as this 
 place afforded, his associate, having first promised, that 
 he would speedily be back, without further apology, left 
 Vicchy. The ruffian turned an angle at one extremity 
 of the subterraneous chamber, where, directly beyond a
 
 MANUSCRIPT VIII. 339 
 
 lamellated mass of rock, there was a narrow outlet, 
 opening, probably, into the more profound recesses of 
 the natural mansion. Vicchy seated himself on a large 
 stone, at some distance from the entrance, and in no 
 enviable frame of mind, awaited the issue of this strange 
 adventure. But, whatever were his meditations, he was 
 not suffered to brood over them long. They were inter • 
 rupted, by the apparition of a tall shape, darkening the 
 mouth of the chasm, whose outline, although strongly 
 defined in the light, was all that the deep obscurity 
 within would allow him to distinguish. Vicchy did not 
 stir, and, presently, the form glided away, and was lost 
 in the receding umbrage of the vault. 
 
 With that sort of desperate courage, which is not un- 
 allied to fear, Vicchy instantly rose, and proceeded for- 
 wards, with his arms outstretched, in the direction, which 
 the feeble echo of receding footsteps pointed out. In 
 this manner, trusting, solely, to the sense of hearing, 
 Vicchy explored several paces, when, suddenly, his ex- 
 tended waist was clipped, with a powerful pressure, by 
 cold clammy fingers, and a voice, singularly hollow and 
 sepulchral, whispered in his ear, "This is your way; 
 make no resistance, but come with me." With the un- 
 stable feeling of one in a dream, Hubert was led along 
 several winding passages, in the midst of darkness, so 
 substantial, that, in the emphatic phrase of scripture, it 
 might be said to be '^ felt." All at once, a dim ray of 
 light glimmered through' a narrow slit or loop-hole, in 
 the ruinous sides of the cavern, and here they stopped 
 short. At that moment, he heard, near him, the tremu- 
 lous moan of one in prayer or agony. Having cautiously 
 removed, with its lank fingers, a piece of earth, loosely 
 inserted in a fissure of the rock, the dubious figure, in a 
 low mysterious voice, directed Hubert to gaze in at the 
 crevice ; he obeyed, and beheld a small chamber, some- 
 what irregular in shape, and duskily lighted. It was 
 rude and desolate, and afibrded small appearance of ac- 
 
 Q 2
 
 340 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 commodation. The walls were hewn out of the same 
 testaceous strata, which distinguished the entire cave, 
 and, like the ceiling, were thickly coated, with the stifling 
 smoke of centuries, which, after circling through the 
 apartment, was wont to escape, with difficulty, through 
 some fissure, or disruption of the roof. In a further 
 corner, was a dull charcoal fire, whose fluttering flame 
 painted the earthy walls, with intermitting hues, and dif- 
 fused around, the wierdlike gloom of glowing embers. A 
 few chairs, a table, and a wooden bench, lay about '' in 
 admired disorder." 
 
 On one side, stood a miserable pallet, over and about 
 which, a tattered coverlet hung, by way of curtain, — but 
 what pale blighted form lies stretched within that wretched 
 couch ? her blue eyes turned upwards, and a single auburn 
 ringlet on her shoulder. On whose ashy countenance, 
 even now convulsed with the last mortal agony, does the 
 low flame throw its wavering light ? It is that of a wo- 
 man, still young — and once how beautiful ! whom Vicchy 
 well remembered to have seen in other days, and under 
 
 happier auspices. And that other, he, who, seated 
 
 on a chair by the bedside, leans, anxiously, but with face 
 averted, and posture fixed, as in mockery of monumental 
 stone, over the form of the shrived penitent, — athwart, 
 what brow is thrown that dark habit ? What is he, who, 
 uplifting a leaden cross, is even now hearkening to the 
 last faint words of her, whose soul he had just " cleansed 
 of that perilous stuff", which weighs upon the heart?" 
 
 " And still the crucifix on high 
 He holds before the darkening eye, 
 And still he bends an anxious ear. 
 The faltering penitence to hear."* 
 
 In his hand, may be noticed a bundle of papers, and ever, 
 as the low, deep-drawn sighs, which precede dissolution, 
 
 * The Lav of the Last Minstiel.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VIII. 
 
 341 
 
 pierce his ear, the vehement and convulsive play of his 
 fingers on the roll, seem to evince his sympathy, with the 
 dying sufferer. 
 
 Father, said the female, in feeble and broken accents, 
 *' Let me implore you, by that salvation you pledged, to 
 remember your promise, that those papers be not opened 
 during the reign of the regent Martinuzzi. They evi- 
 dence the tragic story of my confession, and detail, how 
 i became an accomplice in that crime, of which, through 
 the blood of Jesus, I stand this hour assoiled." 
 
 The obscure figure beside him, at that moment, 
 plucked Vicchy by his mantle, as if to request his at- 
 tention, and then lifted up its voice. 
 
 " Eissenburg," she whispered, but in tones so low 
 and unearthly, that they added to the solemnity of her 
 speech, in the darkness of that vault, — " Eissenberg, I 
 bid thee now bear witness, she has said it, — that packet 
 holds the destinies of Hungary. One day, I may have 
 to command you to declare, before the world, the par- 
 ticulars of the death-bed of : that woman — listen ! 
 
 she speaks again." — " One thing more I'd fain mention, 
 before the world roll utterly away from my affections," 
 resumed the gasping female ; but her speech was so in- 
 terrupted, with the hard sobs of mortal strife, that it 
 was with difficulty Vicchy could catch its purport. 
 " Once," she proceeded, " in my sore agony, — it was in 
 my madness, — I cursed that man. Him — the cause of 
 all — my fatal fall, my anguish, and of this mighty crime, 
 charactered in that paper, and which, erewhiles, I 
 spake of." 
 
 " But thou recallest thy malison," cried the ghostly 
 confessor, with strong inward emotion, bending closer 
 over the low couch of the wrestling soul. 
 
 " Recall it, father ! " faltered out the female, raising 
 herself for an instant, with expiring strength; "recall
 
 342 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 it! Oh ! would to God, that he were there, where thou 
 sittest, that he might know, and receive the last aspira- 
 tion of my living voice ! " 
 
 The head of the monk was still depressed; — with 
 trembling hand, whilst every fibre of his frame seemed 
 convulsed, he raised his cowl, and gave one look, and 
 uttered one little word, but in so choked and indrawn 
 an accent, that Hubert could not hear it. A languid 
 colour reddened the female's cheek, she faintly screamed, 
 and, through the darkening film of death, her sunken 
 eye sought out the face of him, who sustained, and bent, 
 scarce breathing, over her. 
 
 As, sometimes, for an instant, the last rim of the 
 horizontal luminary will gild, with burnished radiance, 
 the disparting clouds, ere they finally reclose to cover 
 him with their pall ; like such transient sunburst, flashed 
 the light of recognition across that dying female's brow. 
 Striving to draw her last convulsive breaths, and con- 
 centrating all her strength, in a final effort, she threw 
 her arms around the confessor's neck. 
 
 " the breath, 
 
 Revisited those lips, and life's pale light, 
 Flashed through those limbs." * 
 
 " Not — not deserted ! in death, mine own ! God 
 bless thee! mine in heaven!" she ceased, and, softly 
 sighing, pillowed her head on his shoulder. 
 
 Was she no more ? The monk gazed madly : — 
 " Dear Alicia," he murmured, " can it be ?" 
 
 Her eye grew dim : it fixed, it closed ; but her lip yet 
 inaudibly quivers. Alas ! the bland and beautiful ex- 
 pression was but the sign of a devotedness, that could 
 not die; — the triumph, the victory of that love, which 
 
 Adc
 
 MAXUSCllIPT VIII. 343 
 
 makes the soul of woman, over the body's dissolution. 
 The monk gave one deep groan, loosed himself from the 
 locked embrace of the yet warm corpse, and, clasping 
 his hands convulsively above his head, fell back, in a 
 kind of trance, upon the motionless pillow. 
 
 Oh, thou disturbing spirit of love ! that art painted a 
 child, and yet we borrow from thee all our strength ; 
 thou art feigned blind, and yet our best sight is derived 
 from thy inspiration ! Were we wise, methinks, the 
 terrors of thy archery should strike our nerves, not less 
 than thunder : thou brewest a nectar, whose exquisite 
 taste maketh humanity divine, and then dashest poison 
 into the Nepenthe ; 
 
 " To ope new veins of torture in the soul, 
 And wake the nerve where agony is born." * 
 
 Thou, indeed, knowest the marvellous of pain; but, 
 though thy w^ays are ways of trouble, and despair, what 
 were this world, without thy witcheries ? 
 
 Vicchy's attention was so fully occupied, with the 
 scene we have attempted to describe, that the being who 
 stood by his side, had occasion, more than once, to 
 pluck him by the sleeve, ere he recollected himself, and 
 called to mind where he was, and how he came thither. 
 He was then conducted into another cell ; for, it ap- 
 peared, that this subterranean cavity had been subdi- 
 vided, either naturally or artificially, to answer the pur- 
 poses of many apartments. Here, his companion, stop- 
 ping short, suddenly addressed him : — 
 
 '' Do you remember me, sir Herezeg?"t 
 
 *' How should I ?" returned Vicchy ; "I can see no- 
 thing." 
 
 "Ha!" replied the figure, "I forgot myself. From 
 this vacant dome, where flames the topaz, and the fre- 
 
 * Young. t Herezeg, — duke.
 
 344 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 quent sapphire beams forth serene, like angel eyes ; 
 where glow the empurpled amethyst, beryls almost ceru- 
 lean, and jasper, bright as the spear-grass, near the 
 ebbing wave ; gems, yet virgin of the sun, and such as 
 rarely chance to deck the pomp of courts, emit their 
 restless splendour in eclipse. This dim twilight, which, 
 by long practice, gives me to behold, with distinctness, 
 each opening of the cave, or shelving rock, spangled 
 with pearls of dew, and every choicest stone, or spark- 
 ling fossil, that veins its walls, but never stole a charm 
 of light, or colour, from the day, is, to thy eyes, blind 
 vacancy. Those perpetual hues of spar and crystal, 
 that, couched in the vaulted roof,* rival the glorious 
 stars, are quenched, to thee, in darkness : — rest thee a 
 while; I will return." 
 
 The figure moved away ; but, ere the lapse of a mi- 
 nute, reappeared, bearing a small dark lantern, the dull 
 and feeble ray of whose light, falling in a direct stream 
 upon the wild dress and withered features of the bearer, 
 illuminated them, at the same time that comparative 
 darkness continued to brood over all, beyond the imme- 
 diate spot, in which they stood. 
 
 '* Have you, I repeat, any recollection of where, and 
 when, you encountered her, who now addresses you ?" 
 demanded the fearful shape, at the same time raising the 
 lamp to within a small distance of her face, and then 
 slowly lowering it, so as to enable Vicchy to have a per- 
 fect view of her tall, gaunt form, and shrivelled, writhen 
 features. Her lineaments were wild and haggard ; her 
 complexion, discoloured by an unnatural paleness, was 
 of the consistency of parchment ; her eyes were red, 
 and bloodshot ; her long, elfin locks, were tangled over 
 her shoulders, and their ends were tinged of a reddish 
 hue, with cna : her hands and feet were of the same 
 
 * A rich specimen of Transylvanian ore may be seen in the British 
 
 IMuseum.
 
 MANUSCRIPT VIII. 345 
 
 colour.* She was wrapped in a mantle of woollen cloth, 
 which partly concealed the peculiarities of a costume, 
 which, in other respects, had something in it of an Asia- 
 tic character. In short, her whole attire and manner spoke 
 her for a Cygani. 
 
 Vicchy, at the first glance, recognised the person, 
 with whom he was now confronted, for that mysterious 
 woman, whose remembrance was accompanied by grati- 
 tude for lives rescued, and was associated, besides, with 
 the announcement of a prophecy, to which his heart still 
 clung, with fond credulity. 
 
 " The forest of Belivar,"t began Vicchy, in a low 
 voice. 
 
 ^' Enough," interposed the other, whom we may as 
 well designate, by her usual appellation of Unna; — 
 " enough, and thou rememberest, what was the lot por- 
 tioned out unto thy child?" And she proceeded to re- 
 peat, word for word, her former prediction of high estate, 
 to Veronica. " But," she added, imperiously, *' the boy, 
 Sigismund, now an inmate in the house of Count Rodna, 
 seems fated, to stand between thy issue and a crown. 
 Thou lovest thy offspring, and thou dost not want am- 
 bition. Eissenburg, if he live, I tell you, that stripling 
 will hereafter ascend a throne, in bar of the heir of Wal- 
 stein; but 'tis charactered, in the bright tracery of the 
 star; the hand of fate hath inscribed, with adamantine 
 pen, on the brass-leaved tablet of time that hath not 
 YET BEEN, that a golden glory shall circle the head of 
 Veronica, of Eissenburg. I have read it, and who shall 
 gainsay what I predestine, darkling, through the gloom 
 of the future? Only the death of Sigismund, can recon- 
 cile this contradiction. 1 have done, — thou art a father; 
 thy destiny calls aloud on thee! — thou hast a dagger! 
 
 * We are indebted, for these minutiae, to Brown's Travels in Dacia, 
 Styria, &c. London, 4to. 1688. 
 t Situated on the Draave. 
 
 Q 5
 
 346 jmanuscripts of erdely. 
 
 this way, — not a syllable, — hush!" — and Unna recon- 
 ducted him to that part of the vault, where he had first 
 entered; and then, without another word, retired from 
 his presence. She had scarcely been gone a minute, 
 ere the mouth of the excavation became again darkened, 
 and the unknown, who had accompanied Vicchy thither, 
 made his re-appearance, hauling along with him, several 
 packages, containing Hubert's property. These con- 
 sisted of various articles of clothing, which weighed all 
 the heavier, on account of certain rolls of Hungarian 
 ducats, with which they were interspersed. 
 
 " You see, I am a man of my word," said the daring- 
 bandit. Vicchy made no reply, and his companion, 
 laying his hand on sundry weighty canvass bags, pre- 
 sently resumed: — " 'Tis only this minute," he said, *' I 
 observed your specie. Do you count over the shiners, to 
 satisfy yourself, they are all right ; the beasts are com- 
 fortably lodged in a barn, not a furlong off. So now," 
 he shortly resumed, having drawn his companion near 
 the entrance; " if you will take my advice, you will 
 leave these pensas auri, and moveables where they at 
 present are, till night-time; hearken to what I shall un- 
 fold to you," — and, bending dov.n, the villain gradually 
 proceeded to open to his hearer, his horrible scheme of 
 murder. Whilst throwing open his vestment, he offered 
 the imperial proclamation, already mentioned, to the 
 notice of Vicchy, and the better to illustrate and enforce 
 his arguments, construed it aloud. He concluded, by 
 pressing the Hungarian noble, with the most plausible 
 inducements, his ingenuity suggested, to aid him in his 
 diabolical enterprise. The speciousness of the lure was 
 nicely adapted to the circumstances of tlie individual, and 
 during more than an hour's earnest discussion, one by 
 one, all the intrenchments and bastions, which Vicchy's 
 better angel had set up for his defence, were either re- 
 linquished, or broken down, by his arch assaulter, until 
 the dream of his greedy imagination became fully pos-
 
 MANUSCRIPT VIII. 347 
 
 sessed of the devil, — that only devil, who, in our belief, 
 ever yet whirled his headlong chariot wheels over the 
 ruins of conscience, and of duty,, .self !" 
 
 We need say no more on this head. Of the subse- 
 quent vacillancy, and ultimate conduct of the Hun- 
 garian noble, the reader (if he have not skipped) is al- 
 ready informed. — q. e. d. Is our fair critic prepared 
 with another difficulty ? 
 
 The Reader. — My dear sir, I fear you are making 
 these explanations of yours, as interminable as the auto- 
 biography of Tristram Shandy, whose history, proceeded, 
 as it were, in simple arithmetical progression, whilst the 
 subject matter of his life, was accumulating in a geome- 
 trical ratio. You are in the moon ; and not having the 
 winged griffin of the Italian poet, I cannot keep up with 
 such extravaorant flio;hts. 
 
 Author. — My dear madam, let me entreat of you, 
 not to talk so figuratively. Be pleased to speak in a 
 more familiar way, and to the point. 
 
 The Reader, rousing herself from a musing posture. — 
 I see your drift, sir; you would fain, like a true crimi- 
 nal, make a kind of prolepsis of me ; but who, unless he 
 were conscious of the weakness of his incidents, would 
 attempt to anticipate the objections of his critics? 
 
 The Author. — We think it extremely unfair, your 
 taking advantage of our politeness, in having admitted you 
 behind the scenes, to insinuate such charges. We would 
 thank you to say briefly, whether there remains any par- 
 ticular, which, in your opinion, requires to be cleared 
 up ? We pause for a reply. 
 
 The Reader. — Verily, Mr. S., there is appended to 
 your last explanation, new matter, which I, in common 
 with the rest of your readers, am curious to understand. 
 Who, in the name of wonder, is she, whom you have in- 
 troduced, and dismissed to her last account, almost in a 
 breath — a page, I would say? The confessor, I presume, 
 can be no other than our precious acquaintance, Father
 
 348 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 Dominick; and the packet, I take it, must be the packet, 
 of which we heard enough, in an earlier chapter, — manu- 
 script, I would say. 
 
 Author. — We must really stand excused, if, on 
 second thought, we decline any further anticipating the 
 interest of our story. 
 
 The Reader. — As you please : the patience of your 
 reader will not be severely tasked, by your choosing to 
 omit the explanation ; but w^hat objection have you to 
 tell us, who is Count Rodna? Who, Sir Sigismund? 
 
 Author. — " Je vous prie de m'excuser, ma curieuse." 
 
 The Reader, — " Quousque tandem abutere patientia 
 nostra?" — I have done with you, sir, for my part, and 
 would recommend you to give over tampering with the 
 better judgment of your readers. When ever did the hawk 
 forego his natural prey, at the plaint of the nightingale ? 
 and think you, that critics will spare an author for his 
 special pleading? Risum teneatis amici! 
 
 Author. — Say you so, my fair incognita? Then 
 here, all necessary explanations being summed up, we 
 leave any further development to take its appropriate 
 place in the currency of the narrative.
 
 MANUSCRIPT IX. 349 
 
 MANUSCRIPT IX. 
 
 " Oh, Poverty ! thou art indeed omnipotent ! thou grindest us 
 into desperation, thou confoundest all our boasted, and most 
 deep rooted principles ! — thou filiest us to the very brim with 
 malice and revenge, and renderest us capable of acts of un- 
 known horror." 
 
 Caleb WrLLiAMS. 
 
 " Serpens decepit me." — Genesis, c. iii. ver. 13. 
 
 As we are not at present engaged in the biography of the 
 Duke of Eissenburg, we have no desire, d force (Vennuyer^ 
 to illustrate the minuter shades of his character. The 
 various incidents of his life, can only concern the reader, 
 so far as they happen to fall within the general scope of 
 our narrative, or may conduce to the interest, and un- 
 ravelling of our story, in the ordonnance of which, the 
 character of Vicchy, however, worthy of the best atten- 
 tion of the craniologist, should not be so prominent as to 
 disturb ^' a clear and united view," as Lord Shaftesbury 
 renders the to evavvoTrrov of Aristotle. For which rea- 
 son, we intend to advance, as it were, per saltum, and 
 overleap the few years that intervened between the death 
 of Count Rodna, and the opening of our tale, — a gap, 
 by the bye, comprehending a period of time, in which the 
 more unlucky of our readers might have undergone the 
 full penalty of petty larceny in the Bay of Botany, and 
 again be thriving at their '* dirty work," in Broad-street,
 
 350 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 St. Giles's ; yet, however, long the interval, it passes 
 over as imperceptibly, as we have observed the pages of 
 a dull novel, under the mechanical fingers of a jaded 
 reader ; or, as do the orthodox twenty minutes of the 
 
 reverend Dr. , commonly consumed, by the oblivious 
 
 churchwarden, in the world of dreams. 
 
 Vicchy had been consigned to a gloomy chamber, des- 
 tinated for the domestic prison of the chateau. The sides 
 were characteristically ornamented with heavy irons, and 
 a massive chain went entirely round the walls, M'ith the 
 exception of the interval of the door, which was fabricated 
 of iron, and lined with cloth, in order to deaden sound. 
 This singular fitting up, and appropriation of an apart- 
 ment in a private residence, significant of the disorganized 
 condition of the country, at the era of our story, is still 
 ordinary to Hungarian habitations. On the evening of the 
 second day of his incarceration, the magnat was reclining 
 on a low form, buried in anxious thought about his child's 
 fate and his own ; when, Veronica, who had liberty of 
 egress and regress, being at the time absent, the door of 
 the massive walled room, in which he was immured, was 
 heard to creak on its hinges, and the eyes of the prisoner 
 were bent upon his gaoler, who, after ushering in a tall 
 man, wrapt, from heel to helm, in a dark mantle, with- 
 drev/. 
 
 The visitor stationed himself, with his back to the 
 small window, or rather loophole, through which the 
 beams of the pale queen of night streamed into the cham- 
 ber ; and looked intently, and silently, upon the captive, 
 who had risen upon his entrance. 
 
 Hubert drew back, and gazed, in turn, on the shrouded 
 figure. " Who art thou ?" he at length demanded. 
 
 " I speak to the Duke of Eissenburg, I presume?" 
 returned the stranger, after a minute's pause. 
 
 Vicchy started with surprise, " That voice !" he ex- 
 claimed, — '^ speak, tell me, do I address myself in this last 
 extremity to "
 
 MANUSCRIPT IX. 351 
 
 " Pereny/' added the other. 
 
 ** Your name, ray lord," he proceeded, " I fortunately 
 ascertained from these papers, which it seems are your 
 property," — and the speaker placed several letters and 
 memoranda, upon a deal table beside him. " I have like- 
 wise held a brief, but most interesting conversation, with 
 an eloquent little advocate of yours. One, whose word 
 can no more be doubted, than the oracles of Heaven. 
 Did I need such proof of your innocence, your child 
 would have convinced me, that you are falsely implicated 
 in this horrible affair. She has explained, by what means 
 you became companioned by that sanguinary myrmidon, 
 to whom I owe the loss of an invaluable friend. She has 
 satisfied me, that you did your utmost, the other night, 
 to raise an alarm, which only your ignorance of the topo- 
 graphy of the house, rendered abortive. But these 
 proofs, which lead me so directly to the conclusion of your 
 innocence, cannot, I fear, be forthcoming, without com- 
 promising your safety in other respects, and which should, 
 no less, be evited." 
 
 Vicchy remained for a space, with downcast eyes, 
 silent, and thoughtful. At length, he raised his head, and 
 replied, ''The graf Pereny must be well aware, that a 
 word from him would rectify the wrong, that wrested law, 
 and false witnesses have done my honour, in which case, 
 there would no longer be an objection to my acknowledg- 
 ing my rank, before any tribunal in Hungary." There 
 was a moment of musing, and painful pause. 
 
 Pereny shook his head — he appeared disconcerted, but 
 quickly rallying, " My lord," he said abruptly, " give me 
 leave to ask, have you not a brother ?" 
 
 " I have," replied Hubert, with some surprise. 
 
 " Is there not a striking likeness between you both ?" 
 again demanded the other. 
 
 " I cannot say," replied Vicchy. " In his boyhood, 
 my brother fled from home, and has never since been 
 heard of. But what may be your motive for the inquiry?"
 
 352 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 " It matters not," returned Pereny, — " let it suffice, I 
 am as convinced of your guiltlessness, in the matter of 
 your outlawry, as I am of your having been unjustly 
 suspected, on the present occasion, although no fewer 
 than half a dozen of my followers, have conspired to 
 swear, and perhaps believe, that you led the band, which 
 ravished from me, on my bridal day, the sister of the late 
 king." He paused, and then proceeded, in a somewhat 
 unsteady voice ; " although I may not explain how such 
 a coincidence of error hath arisen, yet, from circumstances, 
 I need not further advert to ; I know, for a moral cer- 
 tainty, that you could have had no hand whatsoever, in 
 the fatal abduction of the princess; but I, like yourself, 
 my lord, am the sport of a malignant destiny, and dare 
 not show myself in the world's eye ; my life is sought by 
 my enemies, with an inveteracy of rancour, unexampled 
 in the history of mankind. I must myself shun, by dis- 
 guise and concealment, the renewed persecution of my 
 foes. Thus circumstanced, however inclined, I have no 
 means of saving you, in the manner you point out. Our 
 longer conference would attract observation. All 1 can 
 engage for, is, to connive at your escape, which I am 
 willing to do, because your present predicament is chiefly 
 to be attributed to your having been borne along, in the 
 train of my misfortunes, and although I am not answer- 
 able for your involvement in my mysterious fate, I am no 
 less desirous, if possible, to save you harmless. It only 
 remains for me to take my leave. Good night — my lord." 
 Closing the conference, by this abrupt transition, the 
 Count Pereny suddenly retired from the apartment. 
 
 To pursue the circumstances of Vicchy's life, at this 
 period, with any minuteness, is, beside our present pur- 
 pose ; let it suffice, that, by the friendly assistance of 
 Pereny, (of whom, in the sequel, we shall, perhaps, have 
 occasion to say more,) the unhappy noble, and his 
 daughter, succeeded in effecting their escape. After 
 various chances and dangers, they, at length, arrived
 
 MANUSCRIPT IX. 353 
 
 in the capital of Austria, there to await the gradual en- 
 croachments of starvation, amid the horrors, and petty 
 humiliations of that debasing want, which, perhaps, after 
 all, is the subtlest, the most fatal, and immitigable an- 
 tagonist, with which virtue has to contend, the sorest 
 trial, allotted to man, in this flinty, and cold-hearted 
 world. Indeed, if the shrinking delicacies of feminine 
 innocence, be taken into account, the miseries implied, 
 in a fall from opulence, make the saddest aspect, to our 
 thinking, in which sad humanity can be contemplated. 
 The rags, and corporeal sufferings, nay, the contumelies, 
 and base subjections, incident to extreme poverty, sink 
 to nothing, in comparison, with its revolting, and nearly 
 inevitable companionship, with ignorance and vice ; — 
 'tis the loathsome miasm, infecting the haunts of vulgar 
 depravity — the breathing in of which impure airs, con- 
 stitutes the cruel, and constant necessity of the lower 
 classes — that clothes the idea of utter indigence, in its 
 direct horrors ; 'Us what must blast the eyes to look on ; 
 'tis what harrows up the ears to listen to ; 'tis what one 
 sense or other must be condemned to writhe beneath, 
 throughout the garish day, and the sleepless night, 
 whose horrid apprehension must curdle up the inmost 
 soul of sensibility. Feeling thus, we hardly go along 
 with the first of England's living poets,* when he quits 
 his lakes, to beautify, with his refined humanities, the 
 ordinary dwelling-places of our metropolis : 
 
 " 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view."t 
 
 Only let the bard 
 
 " Through utter and thro' middle darkness borne, "t 
 locate himself near St. Giles's " stygian pool," to be 
 " Long detained in that obscure sojourn, "$ 
 
 * Wordsworth. t Campbell. 
 
 + Milton. § Milton,
 
 354 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 and thenceforth, " with other notes," he would sing of the 
 hazy atmosphere of London. Nor, for the same reason, 
 can we sympathize, with certain passages of an English 
 Opium Eater's interesting confessions. That the divine 
 drug, he aiFected, might add a keener relish to Grassini's 
 strains, we can understand ; that it might tend to en- 
 hance les delicatesses of Platonic love-making, we ad- 
 mit, though, according to the Encyclopsedia Britannica, 
 its virtues would seem rather calculated to heighten a 
 more substantial gratification ; but, that its influence 
 should ever drive a scholar and a gentleman " to all the 
 markets, to which the poor resort, on a Saturday night, 
 for laying out their wages,"* is, what appears to us, not 
 less antipathous to the due operation of opium, than 
 would be a dose of citric acid ; and, were it not on re- 
 cord, we should have conceived it impossible, that such 
 an eflfect could ever have sprung from such a cause. 
 
 Should the reader be sceptical, in respect to poverty's 
 involving tortures, more exquisite than '' the rack, the 
 cord, the bowl," only let him, if he dare, " expose" him- 
 self, in bare imagination, " to feel what wretches feel." 
 Let him subject his own innocent relative, whose edu- 
 cation, heretofore, may have wound refinement, even 
 to fastidiousness, and purity, the most sensitive, into her 
 fair form, to the disgusting familiarities (disgusting, how- 
 ever well meant) of coarse, and hardened natures. Let 
 him, in idea, plunge, with this sweet and shrinking plant, 
 amid the central gloom, and leprosies of London's brothel- 
 courts, and then — but we forbear. There are prospects 
 from which the mind turns away, with instinctive, and 
 invincible antipathy. 
 
 To return to Vicchy, whose final probation was not 
 long in arriving. Why should we insist upon the aggra- 
 vations of such a lot, and harrow up the feelings of our 
 readers, by particularizing low carking cares, distresses, 
 
 * English Opium Eater.
 
 MAXUSCRIPT IX. 355 
 
 and horrors, which have in them something prostrating 
 to our common humanity ? We would merely give the 
 reader to understand, that, for twelve months, no con- 
 temptible segment of human life, the father and child, 
 had to endure every species of destitution, implied, in that 
 significant, and dreadful phrase, abject, absolute penury. 
 One bleak, winter's night, Vicchy, without knowing 
 whither he should betake himself, sallied from his 
 wretched hovel, in a state of mind, which very despera- 
 tion rendered accessible to imaginings of unknown, and 
 direful horrors. What a thought for a parent! — the 
 young life of his beloved Veronica, was about to yield 
 its last sand, through very inanition ! Hell grew, and 
 darkened on his soul. It was midnight, and wildered 
 with bad and agonizing suggestions, the malesuada 
 fames* after sauntering from street to street, he found 
 himself at the end of the Landstracht, near one of the 
 bridges, which crossed the Vienne. Here, ensconcing 
 himself within the deep shadow, cast from a jutting wall, 
 he took his station. The spot was lone and unfrequented. 
 He had not, however, stood there above a few seconds, 
 and had began already to waver in his purpose, when his 
 ears caught the sound of trampling hoofs. He is on the 
 alert ; and, as the equestrian neared him, Vicchy sprung 
 forward. He seizes the reins, and, presenting his pistol 
 to the horseman's face, in a peremptory tone, demands 
 his money. Had the figure addressed been stone, it 
 could not have regarded this, so startling an action, with 
 greater apparent indiflPerence. Slowly the horseman 
 turned his head, and, with admirable presence of mind, 
 struck up the muzzle, with his arm, and wrenched the 
 weapon, out of the grasp of the highwayman. Then, dis- 
 mounting, he grappled with him, and pinioned him to 
 the earth. 
 
 *' Strike, if thou wilt, and welcome," said the wretched 
 
 * Malesuada. — "Who but Virgil would have hit on so felicitous an 
 epithet to Famine ?
 
 356 MANUSCRIPTS OF ERDELY. 
 
 man"; '' but, oh ! as thou art a knight, and hope for 
 eternal salvation, save the life of a sinless child, now 
 perishing for want, in yonder city !" 
 
 "= Arise, Eissenburg !" exclaimed the other — '' I only 
 meant to show you the peril in which you stood. Ere 
 next you level that pistol, seek out your foes — lam 
 none. Here, man, is my purse," and the knight handed 
 him a leathern bag, with a weight of gold pieces in it. 
 '* There, 'tis the gift of a friend. Wilt thou meet me on 
 this spot to-morrow at early twilight ? I think 1 can 
 show you a way, by which you may have that purse re- 
 plenished, whenever it jingles less merrily. No thanks — 
 you are heartily welcome." 
 
 Vicchy gazed on the very juvenile appearance of the 
 gallant cavalier, with a mingled feeling of doubt, admi- 
 ration, and terror. By what inspiration could he have 
 learned his title? Whence arose that extraordinary 
 strength, which belied his youthful aspect? And, to 
 what Christian source, could he attribute that uncommon 
 generosity, which, not content with pardoning the man, 
 who levelled a pistol at his head, gave into the ruffian's 
 hand, a heavy purse, and hinted at a treasury, from 
 whence, when it grew lighter, he might replenish it ? 
 The voice sounded familiar to him ; — but the appearance 
 was that of a stranger. He remained in speechless asto- 
 nishment, while his liberal benefactor was caressing his 
 noble Arabian, ere he vaulted into his seat. Then he 
 beheld him, after displaying unusual grace, and dex- 
 terity of horsemanship, gallop from the spot. The next 
 minute, that bridge was, once more, as still and quiet 
 as midnight, and deep solitude, could render it. 
 
 Vicchy stood, for a moment, entranced in thought ; 
 had he been dreaming ? — or, was the being indeed an 
 angel, and, were those broad gold coins, he clanked 
 against each other, an angel's gift ? Alas, no, wretched 
 man ! Why, at that most awful, and portentous crisis, 
 did not your heart rather whisper to you, that you had
 
 MANUSCRIPT IX. 357 
 
 seen an apostate spirit incarnate ; and that that purse, 
 you dangled in your hand, was an earnest of an unut- 
 terable barter, about to be established, betwixt the great 
 tempter and yourself? With audible thankfulness, to 
 his sainted namesake, for having spared him the perpe- 
 tration of a fearful crime, and congratulating himself, 
 besides, on his escape out of such imminent risk, with 
 life, Vicchy retraced his steps homeward. 
 
 The mortal hours of Veronica, had been, certainly, 
 numbered, on that night, only for the relief her father 
 brought her. 
 
 On the next evening, towards dusk, the two men 
 again met, at the foot of the same bridge, when the fatal 
 compact was entered into, which set the last seal upon 
 the doom of the Duke of Eissenburg, who, from that 
 hour, became the thrall of the bandit Ragotzy. Through 
 the interest of Father Dominick, exerted at the re- 
 quest of the Cygani leader, Vicchy was appointed to 
 a command in the national troop ; although it was only a 
 short time before the opening of our story, that he came 
 to take up his abode in Hermanstadt. 
 
 From the above epoch, crime, danger, and deceit 
 hovered about the path of that fallen magnat, like flitting 
 fiends. Treacherous, as a defender of his country, he 
 sunk to compromise her interests, at the command of the 
 Cygani leader. False to the oaths, by which Ragotzy 
 believed him bound, he betrayed, for lucre, the move- 
 ments of the brigand to the Richter Iwan. Sold to all, 
 and faithful to none ; — it is enough to say, that such 
 was the character of the outlawed constable of Hungary, 
 at the period, when he joined the sentinel on the ram- 
 part, as narrated in the first manuscript of our veri- 
 table history. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
 PRINTED BY STEWART AND CO., 
 OLD BAILEY.
 
 ,^<'':ri^