Bethlen. I had a glimpse
Of some fierce shape; and but that Fancy often
Is Nature's intermeddler, and cries halves
With the outward sight, I should believe I saw it
Bear off some human prey. O my preserver! 165
Bathory! Father! Yes, thou deserv'st that name!
Thou did'st not mock me! These are blessed findings!
The secret cypher of my destiny [Looking at his signet.
Stands here inscribed: it is the seal of fate!
Ha!—Had ever monster fitting lair, 'tis yonder! [170]
Thou yawning den, I well remember thee!
Mine eyes deceived me not. Heaven leads me on!
Now for a blast, loud as a king's defiance,
To rouse the monster couchant o'er his ravine! [Blows the horn—then a pause.
Another blast! and with another swell 175
To you, ye charméd watchers of this wood!
If haply I have come, the rightful heir
Of vengeance: if in me survive the spirits
Of those, whose guiltless blood flowed streaming here! [Blows again louder.
Still silent? Is the monster gorged? Heaven shield me! [180]
Thou, faithful spear! be both my torch and guide.
[As Bethlen is about to enter, Kiuprili speaks from the cavern unseen.

[[924]]Raab Kiuprili. Withdraw thy foot! Retract thine idle spear,
And wait obedient!

Bethlen. Ha! What art thou? speak!

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). Avengers!

Bethlen. By a dying mother's pangs
E'en such am I. Receive me!

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). Wait! Beware! 185
At thy first step, thou treadest upon the light,
Thenceforth must darkling flow, and sink in darkness!

Bethlen. Ha! see my boar-spear trembles like a reed!—
Oh, fool! mine eyes are duped by my own shuddering.—
Those piléd thoughts, built up in solitude, 190
Year following year, that pressed upon my heart
As on the altar of some unknown God,
Then, as if touched by fire from heaven descending.
Blazed up within me at a father's name—
Do they desert me now?—at my last trial? [195]
Voice of command! and thou, O hidden Light!
I have obeyed! Declare ye by what name
I dare invoke you! Tell what sacrifice
Will make you gracious.

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). Patience! Truth! Obedience!
Be thy whole soul transparent! so the Light, 200
Thou seekest, may enshrine itself within thee!
Thy name?

Bethlen. Ask rather the poor roaming savage,
Whose infancy no holy rite had blest,
To him, perchance, rude spoil or ghastly trophy,
In chase or battle won, have given a name. 205
I have none—but like a dog have answered
To the chance sound which he that fed me, called me.

Raab Kiuprili (still unseen). Thy birth-place?