Act 1 — SCENE V.—The outside of a cottage in the wood; a light burning in a casement.

Enter Monica, supporting herself on a crutch, and carrying a basket of flax.

Mon. Praise to the virgin! my old limbs have reached their resting place at last: what a tempest! my new cardinal is quite drenched. Well, I’ve kept the flax dry, however, that’s some comfort, (strikes against the door.) Ho, there, within—open quickly.

The door opens, and a female wildly dressed, appears; she catches Monica’s hand with affection, and kisses it.

Mon. Ah, my poor Silence! thou hast watched and fretted for me preciously, I’ll warrant: but the road from Brisac is long, and this rough night half crippled me.

The female feels her damp garments, and seems with quick tenderness to invite her into the house.

Well, well, never fright thyself, if I shiver now, a cup of warm Rhenish will soon make me glow again: ’faith I am weary though; wilt lend an arm to an old woman?

The female embraces and supports her.

Ah, there’s my kind Silence.

Exeunt into the cottage.

Enter Florian running and out of breath, from the left hand.

Flor. I’m right, by all the household gods! ’Twas no goblin of the fen that twinkled to deceive, but a real substantial weatherproof tenement shining with invitation to benighted travellers. Oh, blessings on its hospitable threshold; my heart luxuriates already by anticipation, and pants for a fireside, a supper, and a bed. Hold though—just now I was on the point of shaking hands with a cutthroat; who knows but here I may introduce myself upon visiting terms with his family? ’faith I’ll reconnoitre the position before I establish my quarters. This casement is commodiously low. (Steps to the casement on tiptoe.) I protest, a vastly neat, creditable sort of mansion! Yes—it will do! on one side blazes an excellent fire; in the middle stands a table ready covered; that’s for supper: then just opposite is a door left ajar; ay, that must lead to a bed. Ha! now the door opens; who comes forward? by all my hopes a woman! Enough; here will I pitch my tent. Whenever doubts and fears perplex a man, the form of woman strikes upon his troubled spirit like the rainbow stealing out of clouds—the type of beauty and the sign of hope! (he knocks) Now Venus send her with a kindly smile!—she comes—she comes.

The female opens the door, but on seeing Florian recoils with trepidation—he catches her hand, and forcibly detains her.

Flor. My dear madam! no alarm, for Heaven’s sake. You have thieves in your neighbourhood, but, upon my soul, I don’t belong to their fraternity. No, madam, I’m an unlucky fellow, but with the best morals in the world: the fact is, I have lost myself in the forest; the storm rages—and as I am no knight-errant to court unnecessary hardships, respectfully I entreat the hospitality of this roof for the remainder of the night.

The female surveys his figure with suspicion and timidity.

Flor. I fear ’tis my misfortune to be disbelieved; nay then, let my dress declare my character! (he releases her hand to throw open his riding-cloak, and discovers the regimental under it.) Behold! I am a soldier.

The female shrieks violently; for an instant she covers her eyes with both hands shudderingly, and then with the look and action of sudden insanity, darts away into the thicket of the wood.

Flor. (calling after her.) Madam! my dear madam! only hear me, madam! she’s gone! absolutely vanished! I wish I had a looking-glass; certainly I must have changed my face when I lost my road—no scare-crow could have terrified the poor woman more. What’s to be done? If I follow her, I shall but increase her terrors and my own difficulties. Shall I enter the cottage and wait her return? the door stands most invitingly open, and to a wet and weary wanderer, that fire sparkles so provokingly—’faith, I can’t resist the temptation—Adventure seems the goddess of the night, and I’ll e’en worship the divinity at a blazing shrine! Exit into the house.