fic knocking at the
portal convulsed my habitation. I rushed to know the cause, and, by the
moon's pale beam, read, on a banner fixed into the earth, this awful
summons: "Appear, Augustus Montfort, before the free knights! traitor
appear." How, how was I to act? A stranger to their hidden mystic forms,
I sought my neighbours for inquiry, when, sad reverse! I, who before was
welcomed with their smiles, met now such fearful and contemptuous looks,
that but for conscious and inherent pride, I had been then your victim.

_Zas._ Ay, none, none dare notice the accused.

_Pris._ None, save a monk, who, far less worldly than the rest, stopt,
and warned me to obey this their first summons, or soon a second and a
third would follow; and, on my then not answering, not only would my
sentence be proclaimed, but my best friend, ay, my own son, were he a
member of this dread tribunal, would, by a solemn oath, be bound to
plunge his dagger into his father's heart. Such are free knights! Such
the famed members of this lauded court! And having further learnt, that
on the tolling of the midnight bell at my own gate, or at the citadel, a
chosen minister of vengeance passed to pilot the accused, I went, and
you, through paths most dangerous and inscrutable, have brought me to
the spot where justice reigns; if so, give the first proof of justice,
trial. By that I am prepared to stand or fall.

_Ever._ Trial! alas! it may be years----

_Pri._ Years! I'll not believe it. Where are my judges?

_Zas._ There (_pointing to the door_) in full council, electing a free
knight. And till that awful ceremony's past, they must not be disturbed,
nor then but by their chief, Prince Palatine, who, on returning from the
holy wars, comes to consult them on affairs of state. [_Music._] Hark!
he approaches. This way to your dungeon. [_Prisoner appeals._] Nay, no
parleying. You have to cope with those who'll teach you patience and
submission.

_Music. Prisoner is led into his cell, and_ Zastrow _bars the gate_,
Everard _showing compassion._ Zastrow _opens the door, and the prince
and_ Walbourg _enter._

_Prin._ So, after an interval of ten long years, again I view and
welcome the tribunal. Ay, Walbourg, welcome it. For though dark
traitors, plotting against a state, may oft elude the common vigilance
which broad and open justice takes, yet can they escape the penetrating
eye of this deep-searching and all-powerful court? No. Unseen it sees,
and unknown p