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diff --git a/old/files/images/2pa158.jpg b/old/files/images/2pa158.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..03cb0cf --- /dev/null +++ b/old/files/images/2pa158.jpg diff --git a/old/files/images/2pa202.jpg b/old/files/images/2pa202.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f505b74 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/files/images/2pa202.jpg diff --git a/old/files/relative.htm b/old/files/relative.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..caa4a48 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/files/relative.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7937 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Robbers, by Friedrich Schiller + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + --> +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Robbers, by Friedrich Schiller + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: The Robbers + A Tragedy + +Author: Friedrich Schiller + +Release Date: October 25, 2006 [EBook #6782] +Last Updated: November 6, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROBBERS *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <h1> + THE ROBBERS. <br /> <br /> By Friedrich Schiller + </h1> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> SCHILLER'S PREFACE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ROBBERS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE ROBBERS </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> <b>ACT I.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> SCENE II.—A Tavern on the Frontier of + Saxony. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> SCENE III.—MOOR'S Castle.—AMELIA'S + Chamber. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> <b>ACT II.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> SCENE II.—Old Moor's Bedchamber. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> SCENE III.—THE BOHEMIAN WOODS. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> <b>ACT III.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> SCENE VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> SCENE IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> SCENE II.—Country near the Danube. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> <b>ACT IV.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> SCENE II.*—Gallery in the Castle. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> SCENE III.—Another Room in the Castle. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> SCENE V. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> <b>ACT V.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> SCENE II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> SCENE VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> SCENE IX. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCHILLER'S PREFACE. + </h2> + <h3> + AS PREFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION OF THE ROBBERS + </h3> + <p> + PUBLISHED IN 1781. + </p> + <p> + Now first translated into English. + </p> + <p> + This play is to be regarded merely as a dramatic narrative in which, for + the purpose of tracing out the innermost workings of the soul, advantage + has been taken of the dramatic method, without otherwise conforming to the + stringent rules of theatrical composition, or seeking the dubious + advantage of stage adaptation. It must be admitted as somewhat + inconsistent that three very remarkable people, whose acts are dependent + on perhaps a thousand contingencies, should be completely developed within + three hours, considering that it would scarcely be possible, in the + ordinary course of events, that three such remarkable people should, even + in twenty-four hours, fully reveal their characters to the most + penetrating inquirer. A greater amount of incident is here crowded + together than it was possible for me to confine within the narrow limits + prescribed by Aristotle and Batteux. + </p> + <p> + It is, however, not so much the bulk of my play as its contents which + banish it from the stage. Its scheme and economy require that several + characters should appear who would offend the finer feelings of virtue and + shock the delicacy of our manners. Every delineator of human character is + placed in the same dilemma if he proposes to give a faithful picture of + the world as it really is, and not an ideal phantasy, a mere creation of + his own. It is the course of mortal things that the good should be + shadowed by the bad, and virtue shine the brightest when contrasted with + vice. Whoever proposes to discourage vice and to vindicate religion, + morality, and social order against their enemies, must unveil crime in all + its deformity, and place it before the eyes of men in its colossal + magnitude; he must diligently explore its dark mazes, and make himself + familiar with sentiments at the wickedness of which his soul revolts. + </p> + <p> + Vice is here exposed in its innermost workings. In Francis it resolves all + the confused terrors of conscience into wild abstractions, destroys + virtuous sentiments by dissecting them, and holds up the earnest voice of + religion to mockery and scorn. He who has gone so far (a distinction by no + means enviable) as to quicken his understanding at the expense of his soul—to + him the holiest things are no longer holy; to him God and man are alike + indifferent, and both worlds are as nothing. Of such a monster I have + endeavored to sketch a striking and lifelike portrait, to hold up to + abhorrence all the machinery of his scheme of vice, and to test its + strength by contrasting it with truth. How far my narrative is successful + in accomplishing these objects the reader is left to judge. My conviction + is that I have painted nature to the life. + </p> + <p> + Next to this man (Francis) stands another who would perhaps puzzle not a + few of my readers. A mind for which the greatest crimes have only charms + through the glory which attaches to them, the energy which their + perpetration requires, and the dangers which attend them. A remarkable and + important personage, abundantly endowed with the power of becoming either + a Brutus or a Catiline, according as that power is directed. An unhappy + conjunction of circumstances determines him to choose the latter for, his + example, and it is only after a fearful straying that he is recalled to + emulate the former. Erroneous notions of activity and power, an exuberance + of strength which bursts through all the barriers of law, must of + necessity conflict with the rules of social life. To these enthusiast + dreams of greatness and efficiency it needed but a sarcastic bitterness + against the unpoetic spirit of the age to complete the strange Don Quixote + whom, in the Robber Moor, we at once detest and love, admire and pity. It + is, I hope, unnecessary to remark that I no more hold up this picture as a + warning exclusively to robbers than the greatest Spanish satire was + levelled exclusively at knight-errants. + </p> + <p> + It is nowadays so much the fashion to be witty at the expense of religion + that a man will hardly pass for a genius if he does not allow his impious + satire to run a tilt at its most sacred truths. The noble simplicity of + holy writ must needs be abused and turned into ridicule at the daily + assemblies of the so-called wits; for what is there so holy and serious + that will not raise a laugh if a false sense be attached to it? Let me + hope that I shall have rendered no inconsiderable service to the cause of + true religion and morality in holding up these wanton misbelievers to the + detestation of society, under the form of the most despicable robbers. + </p> + <p> + But still more. I have made these said immoral characters to stand out + favorably in particular points, and even in some measure to compensate by + qualities of the head for what they are deficient in those of the heart. + Herein I have done no more than literally copy nature. Every man, even the + most depraved, bears in some degree the impress of the Almighty's image, + and perhaps the greatest villain is not farther removed from the most + upright man than the petty offender; for the moral forces keep even pace + with the powers of the mind, and the greater the capacity bestowed on man, + the greater and more enormous becomes his misapplication of it; the more + responsible is he for his errors. + </p> + <p> + The "Adramelech" of Klopstock (in his Messiah) awakens in us a feeling in + which admiration is blended with detestation. We follow Milton's Satan + with shuddering wonder through the pathless realms of chaos. The Medea of + the old dramatists is, in spite of all her crimes, a great and wondrous + woman, and Shakespeare's Richard III. is sure to excite the admiration of + the reader, much as he would hate the reality. If it is to be my task to + portray men as they are, I must at the same time include their good + qualities, of which even the most vicious are never totally destitute. If + I would warn mankind against the tiger, I must not omit to describe his + glossy, beautifully-marked skin, lest, owing to this omission, the + ferocious animal should not be recognized till too late. Besides this, a + man who is so utterly depraved as to be without a single redeeming point + is no meet subject for art, and would disgust rather than excite the + interest of the reader; who would turn over with impatience the pages + which concern him. A noble soul can no more endure a succession of moral + discords than the musical ear the grating of knives upon glass. + </p> + <p> + And for this reason I should have been ill-advised in attempting to bring + my drama on the stage. A certain strength of mind is required both on the + part of the poet and the reader; in the former that he may not disguise + vice, in the latter that he may not suffer brilliant qualities to beguile + him into admiration of what is essentially detestable. Whether the author + has fulfilled his duty he leaves others to judge, that his readers will + perform theirs he by no means feels assured. The vulgar—among whom I + would not be understood to mean merely the rabble—the vulgar I say + (between ourselves) extend their influence far around, and unfortunately—set + the fashion. Too shortsighted to reach my full meaning, too narrow-minded + to comprehend the largeness of my views, too disingenuous to admit my + moral aim—they will, I fear, almost frustrate my good intentions, + and pretend to discover in my work an apology for the very vice which it + has been my object to condemn, and will perhaps make the poor poet, to + whom anything rather than justice is usually accorded, responsible for his + simplicity. + </p> + <p> + Thus we have a <i>Da capo</i> of the old story of Democritus and the + Abderitans, and our worthy Hippocrates would needs exhaust whole + plantations of hellebore, were it proposed to remedy this mischief by a + healing decoction. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [This alludes to the fable amusingly recorded by Wieland in his + Geschichte der Abderiten. The Abderitans, who were a byword among + the ancients for their extreme simplicity, are said to have sent + express for Hipocrates to cure their great townsman Democritus, + whom they believed to be out of his senses, because his sayings + were beyond their comprehension. Hippocrates, on conversing with + Democritus, having at once discovered that the cause lay with + themselves, assembled the senate and principal inhabitants in the + market-place with the promise of instructing them in the cure of + Democritus. He then banteringly advised them to import six + shiploads of hellebore of the very best quality, and on its arrival + to distribute it among the citizens, at least seven pounds per + head, but to the senators double that quantity, as they were bound + to have an extra supply of sense. By the time these worthies + discovered that they had been laughed at, Hippocrates was out of + their reach. The story in Wieland is infinitely more amusing than + this short quotation from memory enables me to show. H. G. B.] +</pre> + <p> + Let as many friends of truth as you will, instruct their fellow-citizens + in the pulpit and on the stage, the vulgar will never cease to be vulgar, + though the sun and moon may change their course, and "heaven and earth wax + old as a garment." Perhaps, in order to please tender-hearted people, I + might have been less true to nature; but if a certain beetle, of whom we + have all heard, could extract filth even from pearls, if we have examples + that fire has destroyed and water deluged, shall therefore pearls, fire, + and water be condemned. In consequence of the remarkable catastrophe which + ends my play, I may justly claim for it a place among books of morality, + for crime meets at last with the punishment it deserves; the lost one + enters again within the pale of the law, and virtue is triumphant. Whoever + will but be courteous enough towards me to read my work through with a + desire to understand it, from him I may expect—not that he will + admire the poet, but that he will esteem the honest man.<br /> SCHILLER.<br /> + EASTER FAIR, 1781. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ROBBERS. + </h2> + <p> + AS COMMUNICATED BY SCHILLER TO DALBERG IN 1781, AND SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN + USED AS A PROLOGUE. + </p> + <p> + —This has never before been printed with any of the editions.— + </p> + <p> + The picture of a great, misguided soul, endowed with every gift of + excellence; yet lost in spite of all its gifts! Unbridled passions and bad + companionship corrupt his heart, urge him on from crime to crime, until at + last he stands at the head of a band of murderers, heaps horror upon + horror, and plunges from precipice to precipice into the lowest depths of + despair. Great and majestic in misfortune, by misfortune reclaimed, and + led back to the paths of virtue. Such a man shall you pity and hate, abhor + yet love, in the Robber Moor. You will likewise see a juggling, fiendish + knave unmasked and blown to atoms in his own mines; a fond, weak, and + over-indulgent father; the sorrows of too enthusiastic love, and the + tortures of ungoverned passion. Here, too, you will witness, not without a + shudder, the interior economy of vice; and from the stage be taught how + all the tinsel of fortune fails to smother the inward worm; and how + terror, anguish, remorse, and despair tread close on the footsteps of + guilt. Let the spectator weep to-day at our exhibition, and tremble, and + learn to bend his passions to the laws of religion and reason; let the + youth behold with alarm the consequences of unbridled excess; nor let the + man depart without imbibing the lesson that the invisible band of + Providence makes even villains the instruments of its designs and + judgments, and can marvellously unravel the most intricate perplexities of + fate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. + </h2> + <p> + The eight hundred copies of the first edition of my ROBBERS were exhausted + before all the admirers of the piece were supplied. A second was therefore + undertaken, which has been improved by greater care in printing, and by + the omission of those equivocal sentences which were offensive to the more + fastidious part of the public. Such an alteration, however, in the + construction of the play as should satisfy all the wishes of my friends + and critics has not been my object. + </p> + <p> + In this second edition the several songs have been arranged for the + pianoforte, which will enhance its value to the musical part of the + public. I am indebted for this to an able composer,* who has performed his + task in so masterly a manner that the hearer is not unlikely to forget the + poet in the melody of the musician. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + DR. SCHILLER. +</pre> + <p> + STUTTGART, Jan. 5, 1782. + </p> + <p> + * Alluding to his friend Zumsteeg.—ED. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE ROBBERS. + </h1> + <h3> + A TRAGEDY. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Quae medicamenta non sanant, ferrum sanat; quae ferrum non + sanat, ignis sanat."—HIPPOCRATES. + + DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + + MAXIMILIAN, COUNT VON MOOR. + + CHARLES,| + FRANCIS,| his Sons. + AMELIA VON EDELREICH, his Niece. + SPIEGELBERG,| + SCHWEITZER, | + GRIMM, | + RAZMANN, | Libertines, afterwards Banditti + SCHUFTERLE, | + ROLLER, | + KOSINSKY, | + SCHWARTZ, | + HERMANN, the natural son of a Nobleman. + DANIEL, an old Servant of Count von Moor. + PASTOR MOSER. + FATHER DOMINIC, a Monk. + BAND OF ROBBERS, SERVANTS, ETC. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The scene is laid in Germany. Period of action about two years. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ROBBERS + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT I. + </h2> + <p> + SCENE I.—Franconia. + </p> + <p> + Apartment in the Castle of COUNT MOOR. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS, OLD MOOR. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. But are you really well, father? You look so pale. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Quite well, my son—what have you to tell me? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. The post is arrived—a letter from our correspondent at + Leipsic. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (eagerly). Any tidings of my son Charles? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Hem! Hem!—Why, yes. But I fear—I know not—whether + I dare —your health.—Are you really quite well, father? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. As a fish in water.* Does he write of my son? What means this + anxiety about my health? You have asked me that question twice. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [*This is equivalent to our English saying "As sound as a roach."] +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS. If you are unwell—or are the least apprehensive of being so— + permit me to defer—I will speak to you at a fitter season.—(Half + aside.) These are no tidings for a feeble frame. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Gracious Heavens? what am I doomed to hear? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. First let me retire and shed a tear of compassion for my lost + brother. Would that my lips might be forever sealed—for he is your + son! Would that I could throw an eternal veil over his shame—for he + is my brother! But to obey you is my first, though painful, duty—forgive + me, therefore. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Oh, Charles! Charles! Didst thou but know what thorns thou plantest + in thy father's bosom! That one gladdening report of thee would add ten + years to my life! yes, bring back my youth! whilst now, alas, each fresh + intelligence but hurries me a step nearer to the grave! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Is it so, old man, then farewell! for even this very day we might + all have to tear our hair over your coffin.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [* This idiom is very common in Germany, and is used to express + affliction.] +</pre> + <p> + OLD M. Stay! There remains but one short step more—let him have his + will! (He sits down.) The sins of the father shall be visited unto the + third and fourth generation—let him fulfil the decree. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (takes the letter out of his pocket). You know our correspondent! + See! I would give a finger of my right hand might I pronounce him a liar—a + base and slanderous liar! Compose yourself! Forgive me if I do not let you + read the letter yourself. You cannot, must not, yet know all. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. All, all, my son. You will but spare me crutches.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [* <i>Du ersparst mir die Krucke</i>; meaning that the contents of the + letter can but shorten his declining years, and so spare him the + necessity of crutches.] +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS (reads). "Leipsic, May 1. Were I not bound by an inviolable + promise to conceal nothing from you, not even the smallest particular, + that I am able to collect, respecting your brother's career, never, my + dearest friend, should my guiltless pen become an instrument of torture to + you. I can gather from a hundred of your letters how tidings such as these + must pierce your fraternal heart. It seems to me as though I saw thee, for + the sake of this worthless, this detestable"—(OLD M. covers his + face). Oh! my father, I am only reading you the mildest passages— + "this detestable man, shedding a thousand tears." Alas! mine flowed—ay, + gushed in torrents over these pitying cheeks. "I already picture to myself + your aged pious father, pale as death." Good Heavens! and so you are, + before you have heard anything. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Go on! Go on! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. "Pale as death, sinking down on his chair, and cursing the day + when his ear was first greeted with the lisping cry of 'Father!' I have + not yet been able to discover all, and of the little I do know I dare tell + you only a part. Your brother now seems to have filled up the measure of + his infamy. I, at least, can imagine nothing beyond what he has already + accomplished; but possibly his genius may soar above my conceptions. After + having contracted debts to the amount of forty thousand ducats,"—a + good round sum for pocket-money, father--"and having dishonored the + daughter of a rich banker, whose affianced lover, a gallant youth of rank, + he mortally wounded in a duel, he yesterday, in the dead of night, took + the desperate resolution of absconding from the arm of justice, with seven + companions whom he had corrupted to his own vicious courses." Father? for + heaven's sake, father! How do you feel? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Enough. No more, my son, no more! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. I will spare your feelings. "The injured cry aloud for + satisfaction. Warrants have been issued for his apprehension—a price + is set on his head—the name of Moor"—No, these unhappy lips + shall not be guilty of a father's murder (he tears the letter). Believe it + not, my father, believe not a syllable. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (weeps bitterly). My name—my unsullied name! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (throws himself on his neck). Infamous! most infamous Charles! Oh, + had I not my forebodings, when, even as a boy, he would scamper after the + girls, and ramble about over hill and common with ragamuffin boys and all + the vilest rabble; when he shunned the very sight of a church as a + malefactor shuns a gaol, and would throw the pence he had wrung from your + bounty into the hat of the first beggar he met, whilst we at home were + edifying ourselves with devout prayers and pious homilies? Had I not my + misgivings when he gave himself up to reading the adventures of Julius + Caesar, Alexander the Great, and other benighted heathens, in preference + to the history of the penitent Tobias? A hundred times over have I warned + you—for my brotherly affection was ever kept in subjection to filial + duty—that this forward youth would one day bring sorrow and disgrace + on us all. Oh that he bore not the name of Moor! that my heart beat less + warmly for him! This sinful affection, which I can not overcome, will one + day rise up against me before the judgment-seat of heaven. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Oh! my prospects! my golden dreams! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Ay, well I knew it. Exactly what I always feared. That fiery + spirit, you used to say, which is kindling in the boy, and renders him so + susceptible to impressions of the beautiful and grand—the + ingenuousness which reveals his whole soul in his eyes—the + tenderness of feeling which melts him into weeping sympathy at every tale + of sorrow—the manly courage which impels him to the summit of giant + oaks, and urges him over fosse and palisade and foaming torrents—that + youthful thirst of honor—that unconquerable resolution—all + those resplendent virtues which in the father's darling gave such promise— + would ripen into the warm and sincere friend—the excellent citizen—the + hero—the great, the very great man! Now, mark the result, father; + the fiery spirit has developed itself—expanded—and behold its + precious fruits. Observe this ingenuousness—how nicely it has + changed into effrontery;—this tenderness of soul—how it + displays itself in dalliance with coquettes, in susceptibility to the + blandishments of a courtesan! See this fiery genius, how in six short + years it hath burnt out the oil of life, and reduced his body to a living + skeleton; so that passing scoffers point at him with a sneer and exclaim—"<i>C'est + l'amour qui a fait cela</i>." Behold this bold, enterprising spirit—how + it conceives and executes plans, compared to which the deeds of a + Cartouche or a Howard sink into insignificance. And presently, when these + precious germs of excellence shall ripen into full maturity, what may not + be expected from the full development of such a boyhood? Perhaps, father, + you may yet live to see him at the head of some gallant band, which + assembles in the silent sanctuary of the forest, and kindly relieves the + weary traveller of his superfluous burden. Perhaps you may yet have the + opportunity, before you go to your own tomb, of making a pilgrimage to the + monument which he may erect for himself, somewhere between earth and + heaven! Perhaps,—oh, father—father, look out for some other + name, or the very peddlers and street boys who have seen the effigy of + your worthy son exhibited in the market-place at Leipsic will point at you + with the finger of scorn! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. And thou, too, my Francis, thou too? Oh, my children, how + unerringly your shafts are levelled at my heart. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. You see that I too have a spirit; but my spirit bears the sting + of a scorpion. And then it was "the dry commonplace, the cold, the wooden + Francis," and all the pretty little epithets which the contrast between us + suggested to your fatherly affection, when he was sitting on your knee, or + playfully patting your cheeks? "He would die, forsooth, within the + boundaries of his own domain, moulder away, and soon be forgotten;" while + the fame of this universal genius would spread from pole to pole! Ah! the + cold, dull, wooden Francis thanks thee, heaven, with uplifted hands, that + he bears no resemblance to his brother. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Forgive me, my child! Reproach not thy unhappy father, whose + fondest hopes have proved visionary. The merciful God who, through + Charles, has sent these tears, will, through thee, my Francis, wipe them + from my eyes! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Yes, father, we will wipe them from your eyes. Your Francis will + devote—his life to prolong yours. (Taking his hand with affected + tenderness.) Your life is the oracle which I will especially consult on + every undertaking—the mirror in which I will contemplate everything. + No duty so sacred but I am ready to violate it for the preservation of + your precious days. You believe me? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Great are the duties which devolve on thee, my son—Heaven + bless thee for what thou has been, and wilt be to me. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Now tell me frankly, father. Should you not be a happy man, were + you not obliged to call this son your own? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. In mercy, spare me! When the nurse first placed him in my arms, I + held him up to Heaven and exclaimed, "Am I not truly blest?" + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. So you said then. Now, have you found it so? You may envy the + meanest peasant on your estate in this, that he is not the father of such + a son. So long as you call him yours you are wretched. Your misery will + grow with his years—it will lay you in your grave. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Oh! he has already reduced me to the decrepitude of fourscore. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Well, then—suppose you were to disown this son. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (startled). Francis! Francis! what hast thou said! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Is not your love for him the source of all your grief? Root out + this love, and he concerns you no longer. But for this weak and + reprehensible affection he would be dead to you;—as though he had + never been born. It is not flesh and blood, it is the heart that makes us + sons and fathers! Love him no more, and this monster ceases to be your + son, though he were cut out of your flesh. He has till now been the apple + of your eye; but if thine eye offend you, says Scripture, pluck it out. It + is better to enter heaven with one eye than hell with two! "It is + profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that + thy whole body should be cast into hell." These are the words of the + Bible! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Wouldst thou have me curse my son? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. By no means, father. God forbid! But whom do you call your son? + Him to whom you have given life, and who in return does his utmost to + shorten yours. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Oh, it is all too true! it is a judgment upon me. The Lord has + chosen him as his instrument. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. See how filially your bosom child behaves. He destroys you by + your own excess of paternal sympathy; murders you by means of the very + love you bear him—has coiled round a father's heart to crush it. + When you are laid beneath the turf he becomes lord of your possessions, + and master of his own will. That barrier removed, and the torrent of his + profligacy will rush on without control. Imagine yourself in his place. + How often he must wish his father under ground—and how often, too, + his brother—who so unmercifully impede the free course of his + excesses. But call you this a requital of love? Is this filial gratitude + for a father's tenderness? to sacrifice ten years of your life to the lewd + pleasures of an hour? in one voluptuous moment to stake the honor of an + ancestry which has stood unspotted through seven centuries? Do you call + this a son? Answer? Do you call this your son? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. An undutiful son! Alas! but still my child! my child! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. A most amiable and precious child—whose constant study is + to get rid of his father. Oh, that you could learn to see clearly! that + the film might be removed from your eyes! But your indulgence must confirm + him in his vices! your assistance tend to justify them. Doubtless you will + avert the curse of Heaven from his head, but on your own, father—on + yours—will it fall with twofold vengeance. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Just! most just! Mine, mine be all the guilt! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. How many thousands who have drained the voluptuous bowl of + pleasure to the dregs have been reclaimed by suffering! And is not the + bodily pain which follows every excess a manifest declaration of the + divine will! And shall man dare to thwart this by an impious exercise of + affection? Shall a father ruin forever the pledge committed to his charge? + Consider, father, if you abandon him for a time to the pressure of want + will not he be obliged to turn from his wickedness and repent? Otherwise, + untaught even in the great school of adversity, he must remain a confirmed + reprobate? And then—woe to the father who by a culpable tenderness + bath frustrated the ordinances of a higher wisdom! Well, father? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. I will write to him that I withdraw my protection. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. That would be wise and prudent. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. That he must never come into my sight again + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. 'Twill have a most salutary effect. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (tenderly). Until he reforms. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Right, quite right. But suppose that he comes disguised in the + hypocrite's mask, implores your compassion with tears, and wheedles from + you a pardon, then quits you again on the morrow, and jests at your + weakness in the arms of his harlot. No, my father! He will return of his + own accord, when his conscience awakens him to repentance. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. I will write to him, on the spot, to that effect. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Stop, father, one word more. Your just indignation might prompt + reproaches too severe, words which might break his heart—and then—do + you not think that your deigning to write with your own hand might be + construed into an act of forgiveness? It would be better, I think, that + you should commit the task to me? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Do it, my son. Ah! it would, indeed, have broken my heart! Write to + him that— + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (quickly). That's agreed, then? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Say that he has caused me a thousand bitter tears—a thousand + sleepless nights—but, oh! do not drive my son to despair! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Had you not better retire to rest, father? This affects you too + strongly. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Write to him that a father's heart—But I charge you, drive + him not to despair. [Exit in sadness.] + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (looking after him with a chuckle). Make thyself easy, old dotard! + thou wilt never more press thy darling to thy bosom—there is a gulf + between thee and him impassable as heaven is from hell. He was torn from + thy arms before even thou couldst have dreamed it possible to decree the + separation. Why, what a sorry bungler should I be had I not skill enough + to pluck a son from a father's heart; ay, though he were riveted there + with hooks of steel! I have drawn around thee a magic circle of curses + which he cannot overleap. Good speed to thee, Master Francis. Papa's + darling is disposed of—the course is clear. I must carefully pick up + all the scraps of paper, for how easily might my handwriting be + recognized. (He gathers the fragments of the letter.) And grief will soon + make an end of the old gentleman. And as for her— I must tear this + Charles from her heart, though half her life come with him. + </p> + <p> + No small cause have I for being dissatisfied with Dame Nature, and, by my + honor, I will have amends! Why did I not crawl the first from my mother's + womb? why not the only one? why has she heaped on me this burden of + deformity? on me especially? Just as if she had spawned me from her + refuse.* Why to me in particular this snub of the Laplander? these negro + lips? these Hottentot eyes? On my word, the lady seems to have collected + from all the race of mankind whatever was loathsome into a heap, and + kneaded the mass into my particular person. Death and destruction! who + empowered her to deny to me what she accorded to him? Could a man pay his + court to her before he was born? or offend her before he existed? Why went + she to work in such a partial spirit? + </p> + <p> + No! no! I do her injustice—she bestowed inventive faculty, and set + us naked and helpless on the shore of this great ocean, the world—let + those swim who can—the heavy** may sink. To me she gave naught else, + and how to make the best use of my endowment is my present business. Men's + natural rights are equal; claim is met by claim, effort by effort, and + force by force—right is with the strongest—the limits of our + power constitute our laws. + </p> + <p> + It is true there are certain organized conventions, which men have devised + to keep up what is called the social compact. Honor! truly a very + convenient coin, which those who know how to pass it may lay out with + great advantage.*** Conscience! oh yes, a useful scarecrow to frighten + sparrows away from cherry-trees; it is something like a fairly written + bill of exchange with which your bankrupt merchant staves off the evil + day. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * See Richard III., Act I, Sc. 1, line 17. + + **Heavy is used in a double meaning; the German word is plump, + which Means lumpish clumsy awkward. + + ***So Falstaff, Hen. IV., Pt. I., Act V., Sc. 1, "Honor is a mere + scutcheon." +</pre> + <p> + Well! these are all most admirable institutions for keeping fools in awe, + and holding the mob underfoot, that the cunning may live the more at their + ease. Rare institutions, doubtless. They are something like the fences my + boors plant so closely to keep out the hares—yes I' faith, not a + hare can trespass on the enclosure, but my lord claps spurs to his hunter, + and away he gallops over the teeming harvest! + </p> + <p> + Poor hare! thou playest but a sorry part in this world's drama, but your + worshipful lords must needs have hares! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[This may help to illustrate a passage in Shakespeare which + puzzles the commentators—"Cupid is a good hare-finder."—Much ADO, + Act I., Sc. 1. + The hare, in Germany, is considered an emblem of abject submission + and cowardice. The word may also be rendered "Simpleton," + "Sawney," or any other of the numerous epithets which imply a soft + condition.] +</pre> + <p> + Then courage, and onward, Francis. The man who fears nothing is as + powerful as he who is feared by everybody. It is now the mode to wear + buckles on your smallclothes, that you may loosen or tighten them at + pleasure. I will be measured for a conscience after the newest fashion, + one that will stretch handsomely as occasion may require. Am I to blame? + It is the tailor's affair? I have heard a great deal of twaddle about the + so-called ties of blood—enough to make a sober man beside himself. + He is your brother, they say; which interpreted, means that he was + manufactured in the same mould, and for that reason he must needs be + sacred in your eyes! To what absurd conclusions must this notion of a + sympathy of souls, derived from the propinquity of bodies, inevitably + tend? A common source of being is to produce community of sentiment; + identity of matter, identity of impulse! Then again,—he is thy + father! He gave thee life, thou art his flesh and blood—and + therefore he must be sacred to thee! Again a most inconsequential + deduction! I should like to know why he begot me;** certainly not out of + love for me—for I must first have existed! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + **[The reader of Sterne will remember a very similar passage in the + first chapter of Tristram Shandy.] +</pre> + <p> + Could he know me before I had being, or did he think of me during my + begetting? or did he wish for me at the moment? Did he know what I should + be? If so I would not advise him to acknowledge it or I should pay him off + for his feat. Am I to be thankful to him that I am a man? As little as I + should have had a right to blame him if he had made me a woman. Can I + acknowledge an affection which is not based on any personal regard? Could + personal regard be present before the existence of its object? In what, + then, consists the sacredness of paternity? Is it in the act itself out of + which existence arose? as though this were aught else than an animal + process to appease animal desires. Or does it lie, perhaps, in the result + of this act, which is nothing more after all than one of iron necessity, + and which men would gladly dispense with, were it not at the cost of flesh + and blood? Do I then owe him thanks for his affection? Why, what is it but + a piece of vanity, the besetting sin of the artist who admires his own + works, however hideous they may be? Look you, this is the whole juggle, + wrapped up in a mystic veil to work on our fears. And shall I, too, be + fooled like an infant? Up then! and to thy work manfully. I will root up + from my path whatever obstructs my progress towards becoming the master. + Master I must be, that I may extort by force what I cannot win by + affection.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[This soliloquy in some parts resembles that of Richard, Duke of + Gloster, in Shakespeare's Henry VI., Act V. Sc. 6.] +</pre> + <p> + [Exit.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II.—A Tavern on the Frontier of Saxony. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + CHARLES VON MOOR intent on a book; SPIEGELBERG drinking at the table. +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. (lays the book aside). I am disgusted with this age of puny + scribblers when I read of great men in my Plutarch. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (places a glass before him, and drinks). Josephus is the book you + should read. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. The glowing spark of Prometheus is burnt out, and now they + substitute for it the flash of lycopodium,* a stage-fire which will not so + much as light a pipe. The present generation may be compared to rats + crawling about the club of Hercules.** + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[Lycopodium (in German Barlappen-mehl), vulgarly known as the + Devil's Puff-ball or Witchmeal, is used on the stage, as well in + England as on the continent, to produce flashes of fire. It is + made of the pollen of common club moss, or wolf's claw (Lycopodium + clavatum), the capsules of which contain a highly inflammable + powder. Translators have uniformly failed in rendering this + passage.] + + **[This simile brings to mind Shakespeare's: + "We petty men + Walk under his huge legs, and peep about." + JULIUS CAESAR, Act I., Sc. 2.] +</pre> + <p> + A French abbe lays it down that Alexander was a poltroon; a phthisicky + professor, holding at every word a bottle of sal volatile to his nose, + lectures on strength. Fellows who faint at the veriest trifle criticise + the tactics of Hannibal; whimpering boys store themselves with phrases out + of the slaughter at Canna; and blubber over the victories of Scipio, + because they are obliged to construe them. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Spouted in true Alexandrian style. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. A brilliant reward for your sweat in the battle-field truly + to have your existence perpetuated in gymnasiums, and your immortality + laboriously dragged about in a schoolboy's satchel. A precious recompense + for your lavished blood to be wrapped round gingerbread by some Nuremberg + chandler, or, if you have great luck, to be screwed upon stilts by a + French playwright, and be made to move on wires! Ha, ha, ha! + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (drinks). Read Josephus, I tell you. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. Fie! fie upon this weak, effeminate age, fit for nothing + but to ponder over the deeds of former times, and torture the heroes of + antiquity with commentaries, or mangle them in tragedies. The vigor of its + loins is dried up, and the propagation of the human species has become + dependent on potations of malt liquor. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Tea, brother! tea! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. They curb honest nature with absurd conventionalities; have + scarcely the heart to charge a glass, because they are tasked to drink a + health in it; fawn upon the lackey that he may put in a word for them with + His Grace, and bully the unfortunate wight from whom they have nothing to + fear. They worship any one for a dinner, and are just as ready to poison + him should he chance to outbid them for a feather-bed at an auction. They + damn the Sadducee who fails to come regularly to church, although their + own devotion consists in reckoning up their usurious gains at the very + altar. They cast themselves on their knees that they may have an + opportunity of displaying their mantles, and hardly take their eyes off + the parson from their anxiety to see how his wig is frizzled. They swoon + at the sight of a bleeding goose, yet clap their hands with joy when they + see their rival driven bankrupt from the Exchange. Warmly as I pressed + their hands,—"Only one more day." In vain! To prison with the dog! + Entreaties! Vows! Tears! (stamping the ground). Hell and the devil! + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. And all for a few thousand paltry ducats! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. No, I hate to think of it. Am I to squeeze my body into + stays, and straight-lace my will in the trammels of law. What might have + risen to an eagle's flight has been reduced to a snail's pace by law. + Never yet has law formed a great man; 'tis liberty that breeds giants and + heroes. Oh! that the spirit of Herman* still glowed in his ashes! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[Herman is the German for Armin or Arminius, the celebrated + deliverer of Germany from the Roman yoke. See Menzel's History, + vol. i., p. 85, etc.] +</pre> + <p> + Set me at the head of an army of fellows like myself, and out of Germany + shall spring a republic compared to which Rome and Sparta will be but as + nunneries. (Rises and flings his sword upon the table.) + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (jumping up). Bravo! Bravissimo! you are coming to the right key + now. I have something for your ear, Moor, which has long been on my mind, + and you are the very man for it—drink, brother, drink! What if we + turned Jews and brought the kingdom of Jerusalem again on the tapis? But + tell me is it not a clever scheme? We send forth a manifesto to the four + quarters of the world, and summon to Palestine all that do not eat + Swineflesh. Then I prove by incontestable documents that Herod the + Tetrarch was my direct ancestor, and so forth. There will be a victory, my + fine fellow, when they return and are restored to their lands, and are + able to rebuild Jerusalem. Then make a clean sweep of the Turks out of + Asia while the iron is hot, hew cedars in Lebanon, build ships, and then + the whole nation shall chaffer with old clothes and old lace throughout + the world. Meanwhile— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. (smiles and takes him by the hand). Comrade! There must be + an end now of our fooleries. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (with surprise). Fie! you are not going to play the prodigal son!—a + fellow like you who with his sword has scratched more hieroglyhics on + other men's faces than three quill-drivers could inscribe in their + daybooks in a leap-year! Shall I tell you the story of the great dog + funeral? Ha! I must just bring back your own picture to your mind; that + will kindle fire in your veins, if nothing else has power to inspire you. + Do you remember how the heads of the college caused your dog's leg to be + shot off, and you, by way of revenge, proclaimed a fast through the whole + town? They fumed and fretted at your edict. But you, without losing time, + ordered all the meat to be bought up in Leipsic, so that in the course of + eight hours there was not a bone left to pick all over the place, and even + fish began to rise in price. The magistrates and the town council vowed + vengeance. But we students turned out lustily, seventeen hundred of us, + with you at our head, and butchers and tailors and haberdashers at our + backs, besides publicans, barbers, and rabble of all sorts, swearing that + the town should be sacked if a single hair of a student's head was + injured. And so the affair went off like the shooting at Hornberg,* and + they were obliged to be off with their tails between their legs. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[The "shooting at Hornberg" is a proverbial expression in Germany + for any expedition from which, through lack of courage, the parties + retire without firing a shot.] +</pre> + <p> + You sent for doctors—a whole posse of them—and offered three + ducats to any one who would write a prescription for your dog. We were + afraid the gentlemen would stand too much upon honor and refuse, and had + already made up our minds to use force. But this was quite unnecessary; + the doctors got to fisticuffs for the three ducats, and their competition + brought down the price to three groats; in the course of an hour a dozen + prescriptions were written, of which, of course, the poor beast very soon + died. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. The vile rascals. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. The funeral procession was arranged with all due pomp; odes for + the dog were indited by the gross; and at night we all turned out, near a + thousand of us, a lantern in one hand and our rapier in the other, and so + proceeded through the town, the bells chiming and ringing, till the dog + was entombed. Then came a feed which lasted till broad daylight, when you + sent your acknowledgments to the college dons for their kind sympathy, and + ordered the meat to be sold at half-price. <i>Mort de ma vie</i>, if we + had not as great a respect for you as a garrison for the conqueror of a + fortress. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. And are you not ashamed to boast of these things? Have you + not shame enough in you to blush even at the recollection of such pranks? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Come, come! You are no longer the same Moor. Do you remember how, + a thousand times, bottle in hand, you made game of the miserly old + governor, bidding him by all means rake and scrape together as much as he + could, for that you would swill it all down your throat? Don't you + remember, eh?—don't you remember?' O you good-for-nothing, miserable + braggart! that was speaking like a man, and a gentleman, but— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. A curse on you for reminding me of it! A curse on myself + for what I said! But it was done in the fumes of wine, and my heart knew + not what my tongue uttered. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (shakes his head). No, no! that cannot be! Impossible, brother! + You are not in earnest! Tell me! most sweet brother, is it not poverty + which has brought you to this mood? Come! let me tell you a little story + of my youthful days. There was a ditch close to my house, eight feet wide + at the least, which we boys were trying to leap over for a wager. But it + was no go. Splash! there you lay sprawling, amidst hisses and roars of + laughter, and a relentless shower of snowballs. By the side of my house a + hunter's dog was lying chained, a savage beast, which would catch the + girls by their petticoats with the quickness of lightning if they + incautiously passed too near him. Now it was my greatest delight to tease + this brute in every possible way; and it was enough to make one burst with + laughing to see the beast fix his eyes on me with such fierceness that he + seemed ready to tear me to pieces if he could but get at me. Well, what + happened? Once, when I was amusing myself in this manner, I hit him such a + bang in the ribs with a stone that in his fury he broke loose and ran + right upon me. I tore away like lightning, but—devil take it!—that + confounded ditch lay right in my way. What was to be done? The dog was + close at my heels and quite furious; there was no time to deliberate. I + took a spring and cleared the ditch. To that leap I was indebted for life + and limb; the beast would have torn me to atoms. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. And to what does all this tend? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. To this—that you may be taught that strength grows with the + occasion. For which reason I never despair even when things are the worst. + Courage grows with danger. Powers of resistance increase by pressure. It + is evident by the obstacles she strews in my path that fate must have + designed me for a great man. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. (angrily). I am not aware of anything for which we still + require courage, and have not already shown it. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Indeed! And so you mean to let your gifts go to waste? To bury + your talent? Do you think your paltry achievements at Leipsic amount to + the <i>ne plus ultra</i> of genius? Let us but once get to the great world—Paris + and London! where you get your ears boxed if you salute a man as honest. + It is a real jubilee to practise one's handicraft there on a grand scale. + How you will stare! How you will open your eyes! to see signatures forged; + dice loaded; locks picked, and strong boxes gutted; all that you shall + learn of Spiegelberg! The rascal deserves to be hanged on the first + gallows that would rather starve than manipulate with his fingers. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. (in a fit of absence). How now? I should not wonder if your + proficiency went further still. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. I begin to think you mistrust me. Only wait till I have grown + warm at it; you shall see wonders; your little brain shall whirl clean + round in your pericranium when my teeming wit is delivered. (He rises + excited.) How it clears up within me! Great thoughts are dawning in on my + soul! Gigantic plans are fermenting in my creative brain. Cursed lethargy + (striking his forehead), which has hitherto enchained my faculties, + cramped and fettered my prospects! I awake; I feel what I am—and + what I am to be! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. You are a fool! The wine is swaggering in your brain. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (more excited). Spiegelberg, they will say, art thou a magician, + Spiegelberg? 'Tis a pity, the king will say, that thou wert not made a + general, Spiegelberg, thou wouldst have thrust the Austrians through a + buttonhole. Yes, I hear the doctors lamenting, 'tis a crying shame that he + was not bred to medicine, he would have discovered the <i>elixir vitae</i>. + Ay, and that he did not take to financiering, the Sullys will deplore in + their cabinets,—he would have turned flints into louis-d'ors by his + magic. And Spiegelberg will be the word from east to west; then down into + the dirt with you, ye cowards, ye reptiles, while Spiegelberg soars with + outspread wings to the temple of everlasting fame. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. A pleasant journey to you! I leave you to climb to the + summit of glory on the pillars of infamy. In the shade of my ancestral + groves, in the arms of my Amelia, a nobler joy awaits me. I have already, + last week, written to my father to implore his forgiveness, and have not + concealed the least circumstance from him; and where there is sincerity + there is compassion and help. Let us take leave of each other, Moritz. + After this day we shall meet no more. The post has arrived. My father's + forgiveness must already be within the walls of this town. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter SCHWEITZER, GRIMM, ROLLER, SCHUFTERLE, and RAZMAN. +</pre> + <p> + ROLLER. Are you aware that they are on our track! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. That we are not for a moment safe from being taken? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. I don't wonder at it. It must be as it will! Have none of + you seen Schwarz? Did he say anything about having a letter for me? + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. He has been long in search of you on some such errand, I suspect. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. Where is he? where, where? (is about to rush of in haste). + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Stay! we have appointed him to come here. You tremble? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. I do not tremble. Why should I tremble? Comrades, this + letter—rejoice with me! I am the happiest man under the sun; why + should I tremble? + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="2pa158 (133K)" src="images/2pa158.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter SCHWARZ. +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. (rushes towards him). Brother, brother! the letter, the + letter! + </p> + <p> + SCHW. (gives him a letter, which he opens hastily). What's the matter? You + have grown as pale as a whitewashed wall! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. My brother's hand! + </p> + <p> + SCHW. What the deuce is Spiegelberg about there? + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. The fellow's mad. He jumps about as if he had St. Vitus' dance. + </p> + <p> + SCHUF. His wits are gone a wool gathering! He's making verses, I'll be + sworn! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Spiegelberg! Ho! Spiegelberg! The brute does not hear. + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. (shakes him). Hallo! fellow! are you dreaming? or— + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (who has all this time been making gestures in a corner of the + room, as if working out some great project, jumps up wildly). Your money + or your life! (He catches SCHWEITZER by the throat, who very coolly flings + him against the wall; Moor drops the letter and rushes out. A general + sensation.) + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. (calling after him). Moor! where are you going? What's the matter? + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. What ails him? What has he been doing? He is as pale as death. + </p> + <p> + SCHW. He must have got strange news. Just let us see! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. (picks up the letter from the ground, and reads). "Unfortunate + brother!"—a pleasant beginning—"I have only briefly to inform + you that you have nothing more to hope for. You may go, your father + directs me to tell you, wherever your own vicious propensities lead. Nor + are you to entertain, he says, any hope of ever gaining pardon by weeping + at his feet, unless you are prepared to fare upon bread and water in the + lowest dungeon of his castle until your hair shall outgrow eagles' + feathers, and your nails the talons of a vulture. These are his very + words. He commands me to close the letter. Farewell forever! I pity you. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "FRANCIS VON MOOR" +</pre> + <p> + SCHW. A most amiable and loving brother, in good truth! And the + scoundrel's name is Francis. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (slinking forward). Bread and water! Is that it? A temperate + diet! But I have made a better provision for you. Did I not say that I + should have to think for you all at last? + </p> + <p> + SCHWEIT. What does the blockhead say! The jackass is going to think for us + all! + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Cowards, cripples, lame dogs are ye all if you have not courage + enough to venture upon something great. + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Well, of course, so we should be, you are right; but will your + proposed scheme get us out of this devil of a scrape? eh? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (with a proud laugh). Poor thing! Get us out of this scrape? Ha, + ha, ha! Get us out of the scrape!—and is that all your thimbleful of + brain can reach? And with that you trot your mare back to the stable? + Spiegelberg would have been a miserable bungler indeed if that were the + extent of his aim. Heroes, I tell you, barons, princes, gods, it will make + of you. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. That's pretty well for one bout, truly! But no doubt it is some + neck-breaking piece of business; it will cost a head or so at the least. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. It wants nothing but courage; as to the headwork, I take that + entirely upon myself. Courage, I say, Schweitzer! Courage, Roller! Grimm! + Razman! Schufterle! Courage! + </p> + <p> + SCHW. Courage! If that is all, I have courage enough to walk through hell + barefoot. + </p> + <p> + SCHUFT. And I courage enough to fight the very devil himself under the + open gallows for the rescue of any poor sinner. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. That's just what it should be! If ye have courage, let any one of + you step forward and say he has still something to lose, and not + everything to gain? + </p> + <p> + SCHW. Verily, I should have a good deal to lose, if I were to lose all + that I have yet to win! + </p> + <p> + PAZ. Yes, by Jove! and I much to win, if I could win all that I have not + got to lose. + </p> + <p> + SCHUFT. Were I to lose what I carry on my back on trust I should at any + rate have nothing to lose on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Very well then! (He takes his place in the middle of them, and + says in solemn adjuration)—if but a drop of the heroic blood of the + ancient Germans still flow in your veins—come! We will fix our abode + in the Bohemian forests, draw together a band of robbers, and—What + are you gaping at? Has your slender stock of courage oozed out already? + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. You are not the first rogue by many that has defied the gallows;—and + yet what other choice have we? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Choice? You have no choice. Do you want to lie rotting in the + debtor's jail and beat hemp till you are bailed by the last trumpet? Would + you toil with pick-axe and spade for a morsel of dry bread? or earn a + pitiful alms by singing doleful ditties under people's windows? Or will + you be sworn at the drumhead—and then comes the question, whether + anybody would trust your hang-dog visages—and so under the splenetic + humor of some despotic sergeant serve your time of purgatory in advance? + Would you like to run the gauntlet to the beat of the drum? or be doomed + to drag after you, like a galley-slave, the whole iron store of Vulcan? + Behold your choice. You have before you the complete catalogue of all that + you may choose from! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Spiegelberg is not altogether wrong! I, too, have been concocting + plans, but they come much to the same thing. How would it be, thought I, + were we to club our wits together, and dish up a pocketbook, or an + almanac, or something of that sort, and write reviews at a penny a line, + as is now the fashion? + </p> + <p> + SCHUFT. The devil's in you! you are pretty nearly hitting on my own + schemes. I have been thinking to myself how would it answer were I to turn + Methodist, and hold weekly prayer-meetings? + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Capital! and, if that fails, turn atheist! We might fall foul of + the four Gospels, get our book burned by the hangman, and then it would + sell at a prodigious rate. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Or we might take the field to cure a fashionable ailment. I know a + quack doctor who has built himself a house with nothing but mercury, as + the motto over his door implies. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEIT. (rises and holds out his hand to Spiegelberg). Spiegelberg, thou + art a great man! or else a blind hog has by chance found an acorn. + </p> + <p> + SCHW. Excellent schemes! Honorable professions! How great minds + sympathize! All that seems wanting to complete the list is that we should + turn pimps and bawds. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Pooh! Pooh! Nonsense. And what is to prevent our combining most + of these occupations in one person? My plan will exalt you the most, and + it holds out glory and immortality into the bargain. Remember, too, ye + sorry varlets, and it is a matter worthy of consideration: one's fame + hereafter—the sweet thought of immortality— + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. And that at the very head of the muster-roll of honorable names! + You are a master of eloquence, Spiegelberg, when the question is how to + convert an honest man into a scoundrel. But does any one know what has + become of Moor? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Honest, say you? Do you think you'll be less honest then than you + are now? What do you call honest? To relieve rich misers of half of those + cares which only scare golden sleep from their eyelids; to force hoarded + coin into circulation; to restore the equalization of property; in one + word, to bring back the golden age; to relieve Providence of many a + burdensome pensioner, and so save it the trouble of sending war, + pestilence, famine, and above all, doctors—that is what I call + honesty, d'ye see; that's what I call being a worthy instrument in the + hand of Providence,—and then, at every meal you eat, to have the + sweet reflection: this is what thy own ingenuity, thy lion boldness, thy + night watchings, have procured for thee—to command the respect both + of great and small! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. And at last to mount towards heaven in the living body, and in + spite of wind and storm, in spite of the greedy maw of old father Time, to + be hovering beneath the sun and moon and all the stars of the firmament, + where even the unreasoning birds of heaven, attracted by noble instinct, + chant their seraphic music, and angels with tails hold their most holy + councils? Don't you see? And, while monarchs and potentates become a prey + to moths and worms, to have the honor of receiving visits from the royal + bird of Jove. Moritz, Moritz, Moritz! beware of the three-legged beast.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[The gallows, which in Germany is formed of three posts.] +</pre> + <p> + SPIEGEL. And does that fright thee, craven-heart? Has not many a universal + genius, who might have reformed the world, rotted upon the gallows? And + does not the renown of such a man live for hundreds and thousands of + years, whereas many a king and elector would be passed over in history, + were not historians obliged to give him a niche to complete the line of + succession, or that the mention of him did not swell the volume a few + octavo pages, for which he counts upon hard cash from the publisher. And + when the wayfarer sees you swinging to and fro in the breeze he will + mutter to himself, "That fellow's brains had no water in them, I'll + warrant me," and then groan over the hardship of the times. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEIT. (slaps him on the shoulder). Well said, Spiegelberg! Well said! + Why the devil do we stand here hesitating? + </p> + <p> + SCHW. And suppose it is called disgrace—what then? Cannot one, in + case of need, always carry a small powder about one, which quietly smooths + the weary traveller's passage across the Styx, where no cock-crowing will + disturb his rest? No, brother Moritz! Your scheme is good; so at least + says my creed. + </p> + <p> + SCHUFT. Zounds! and mine too! Spiegelberg, I am your recruit. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Like a second Orpheus, Spiegelberg, you have charmed to sleep that + howling beast, conscience! Take me as I stand, I am yours entirely! + </p> + <p> + GRIMMM. <i>Si omnes consentiunt ego non dissentio</i>;* mind, without a + comma. There is an auction going on in my head—methodists—quack + doctors—reviewers—rogues;—the highest bidder has me. + Here is my hand, Moritz! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[The joke is explained by placing a comma after non.] +</pre> + <p> + ROLLER. And you too, Schweitzer? (he gives his right hand to SPIEGELBERG). + Thus I consign my soul to the devil. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. And your name to the stars! What does it signify where the soul + goes to? If crowds of <i>avantcouriers</i> give notice of our descent that + the devils may put on their holiday gear, wipe the accumulated soot of a + thousand years from their eyelashes, and myriads of horned heads pop up + from the smoking mouth of their sulphurous chimneys to welcome our + arrival! 'Up, comrades! (leaping up). Up! What in the world is equal to + this ecstacy of delight? Come along, comrades! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Gently, gently! Where are you going? Every beast must have a head, + boys! + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (With bitterness). What is that incubus preaching about? Was not + the head already there before a single limb began to move? Follow me, + comrades! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Gently, I say! even liberty must have its master. Rome and Sparta + perished for want of a chief. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (in a wheedling manner). Yes,—stay—Roller is right. + And he must have an enlightened head. Do you understand? A keen, politic + head. Yes! when I think what you were only an hour ago, and what you are + now, and that it is all owing to one happy thought. Yes, of course, you + must have a chief, and you'll own that he who struck out this idea may + claim to have an enlightened and politic head? + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. If one could hope, if one could dream, but I fear he will not + consent. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Why not? Speak out boldly, friend! Difficult as it may be to + steer a laboring vessel against wind and tide, oppressive as may be the + weight of a crown, speak your thought without hesitation, Roller! Perhaps + he may be prevailed upon after all! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. And if he does not the whole vessel will be crazy enough. Without + Moor we are a "body without a soul." + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (turning angrily from him). Dolt! blockhead! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (Enter CHARLES VON MOOR in violent agitation, stalking backwards + and forwards, and speaking to himself.) +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. Man—man! false, perfidious crocodile-brood! Your eyes + are all tears, but your hearts steel! Kisses on your lips, but daggers + couched in your bosoms! Even lions and tigers nourish their young. Ravens + feast their brood on carrion, and he—he Malice I have learned to + bear; and I can smile when my fellest enemy drinks to me in my own heart's + blood; but when kindred turn traitors, when a father's love becomes a + fury's hate; oh, then, let manly resignation give place to raging fire! + the gentle lamb become a tiger! and every nerve strain itself to vengeance + and destruction! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Hark ye, Moor! What think ye of it? A robber's life is pleasanter, + after all, than to lie rotting on bread and water in the lowest dungeon of + the castle? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. Why was not this spirit implanted in a tiger which gluts + its raging jaws with human flesh? Is this a father's tenderness? Is this + love for love? Would I were a bear to rouse all the bears of the north + against this murderous race! Repentance, and no pardon! Oh, that I could + poison the ocean that men might drink death from every spring! Contrition, + implicit reliance, and no pardon! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. But listen, Moor,—listen to what I am telling you! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. 'Tis incredible! 'tis a dream—a delusion! Such + earnest entreaty, such a vivid picture of misery and tearful penitence—a + savage beast would have been melted to compassion! stones would have wept, + and yet he—it would be thought a malicious libel upon human nature + were I to proclaim it—and yet, yet—oh, that I could sound the + trumpet of rebellion through all creation, and lead air, and earth, and + sea into battle array against this generation of hyenas! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Hear me, only hear me! You are deaf with raving. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. Avaunt, avaunt! Is not thy name man? Art thou not born of + woman? Out of my sight, thou thing with human visage! I loved him so + unutterably!—never son so loved a father; I would have sacrificed a + thousand lives for him (foaming and stamping the ground). Ha! where is he + that will put a sword into my hand that I may strike this generation of + vipers to the quick! Who will teach me how to reach their heart's core, to + crush, to annihilate the whole race? Such a man shall be my friend, my + angel, my god—him will I worship! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Such friends behold in us; be but advised! + </p> + <p> + SCHW. Come with us into the Bohemian forests! We will form a band of + robbers there, and you (MOOR stares at him). + </p> + <p> + SCHWEIT. You shall be our captain! you must be our captain! + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (throws himself into a chair in a rage). Slaves and cowards! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. Who inspired thee with that thought? Hark, fellow! + (grasping ROLLER tightly) that human soul of thine did not produce it; who + suggested it to thee? Yes, by the thousand arms of death! that's what we + will, and what we must do! the thought's divine. He who conceived it + deserves to be canonized. Robbers and murderers! As my soul lives, I am + your captain! + </p> + <p> + ALL (with tumultuous shouts). Hurrah! long live our captain! + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (starting up, aside). Till I give him his <i>coup de grace</i>! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. See, it falls like a film from my eyes! What a fool was I + to think of returning to be caged? My soul's athirst for deeds, my spirit + pants for freedom. Murderers, robbers! with these words I trample the law + underfoot—mankind threw off humanity when I appealed to it. Away, + then, with human sympathies and mercy! I no longer have a father, no + longer affections; blood and death shall teach me to forget that anything + was ever dear to me! Come! come! Oh, I will recreate myself with some most + fearful vengeance;—'tis resolved, I am your captain! and success to + him who Shall spread fire and slaughter the widest and most savagely—I + pledge myself He shall be right royally rewarded. Stand around me, all of + you, and swear to me fealty and obedience unto death! Swear by this trusty + right hand. + </p> + <p> + ALL (place their hands in his). We swear to thee fealty and obedience unto + death! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. And, by this same trusty right Hand, I here swear to you to + remain your captain, true and faithful unto death! This arm shall make an + instant corpse of him who doubts, or fears, or retreats. And may the same + befall me from your hands if I betray my oath! Are you content? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [SPIEGELBERG runs up and down in a furious rage.] +</pre> + <p> + ALL (throwing up their hats). We are content! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES VON M. Well, then, let us be gone! Fear neither death nor danger, + for an unalterable destiny rules over us. Every man has his doom, be it to + die on the soft pillow of down, or in the field of blood, or on the + scaffold, or the wheel! One or the other of these must be our lot! + [Exeunt.] + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (looking after them after a pause). Your catalogue has a hole in + it. You have omitted poison. + </p> + <p> + [Exit.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III.—MOOR'S Castle.—AMELIA'S Chamber. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + FRANCIS, AMELIA. +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS. Your face is averted from me, Amelia? Am I less worthy than he + who is accursed of his father? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Away! Oh! what a loving, compassionate father, who abandons his + son a prey to wolves and monsters! In his own comfortable home he pampers + himself with delicious wines and stretches his palsied limbs on down, + while his noble son is starving. Shame upon you, inhuman wretches! Shame + upon you, ye souls of dragons, ye blots on humanity!— his only son! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. I thought he had two. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Yes, he deserves to have such sons as you are. On his deathbed he + will in vain stretch out his withered hands for his Charles, and recoil + with a shudder when he feels the ice-cold hand of his Francis. Oh, it is + sweet, deliciously sweet, to be cursed by such a father! Tell me, Francis, + dear brotherly soul—tell me what must one do to be cursed by him? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. You are raving, dearest; you are to be pitied. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Oh! indeed. Do you pity your brother? No, monster, you hate him! I + hope you hate me too. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. I love you as dearly as I love myself, Amelia! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. If you love me you will not refuse me one little request. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. None, none! if you ask no more than my life. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Oh, if that is the case! then one request, which you will so + easily, so readily grant. (Loftily.) Hate me! I should perforce blush + crimson if, whilst thinking of Charles, it should for a moment enter my + mind that you do not hate me. You promise me this? Now go, and leave me; I + so love to be alone! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Lovely enthusiast! how greatly I admire your gentle, affectionate + heart. Here, here, Charles reigned sole monarch, like a god within his + temple; he stood before thee waking, he filled your imaination dreaming; + the whole creation seemed to thee to centre in Charles, and to reflect him + alone; it gave thee no other echo but of him. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (with emotion). Yes, verily, I own it. Despite of you all, + barbarians as you are, I will own it before all the world. I love him! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Inhuman, cruel! So to requite a love like this! To forget her— + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (starting). What! forget me? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Did you not place a ring on his finger?—a diamond ring, the + pledge of your love? To be sure how is it possible for youth to resist the + fascinations of a wanton? Who can blame him for it, since he had nothing + else left to give away? and of course she repaid him with interest by her + caresses and embraces. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (with indignation). My ring to a wanton? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Fie, fie! it is disgraceful. 'Twould not be much, however, if + that were all. A ring, be it ever so costly, is, after all, a thing which + one may always buy of a Jew. Perhaps the fashion of it did not please him, + perhaps he exchanged it for one more beautiful. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (with violence). But my ring, I say, my ring? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Even yours, Amelia. Ha! such a brilliant, and on my finger; and + from Amelia! Death itself should not have plucked it hence. It is not the + costliness of the diamond, not the cunning of the pattern—it is love + which constitutes its value. Is it not so, Amelia? Dearest child, you are + weeping. Woe be to him who causes such precious drops to flow from those + heavenly eyes; ah, and if you knew all, if you could but see him yourself, + see him under that form? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Monster! what do you mean? What form do you speak of? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Hush, hush, gentle soul, press me no further (as if + soliloquizing, yet aloud). If it had only some veil, that horrid vice, + under which it might shroud itself from the eye of the world! But there it + is, glaring horribly through the sallow, leaden eye; proclaiming itself in + the sunken, deathlike look; ghastly protruding bones; the faltering, + hollow voice; preaching audibly from the shattered, shaking skeleton; + piercing to the most vital marrow of the bones, and sapping the manly + strength of youth—faugh! the idea sickens me. Nose, eyes, ears + shrink from it. You saw that miserable wretch, Amelia, in our hospital, + who was heavily breathing out his spirit; modesty seemed to cast down her + abashed eye as she passed him; you cried woe upon him. Recall that hideous + image to your mind, and your Charles stands before you. His kisses are + pestilence, his lips poison. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (strikes him). Shameless liar! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Does such a Charles inspire you with horror? Does the mere + picture fill you with disgust? Go, then! gaze upon him yourself, your + handsome, your angelic, your divine Charles! Go, drink his balmy breath, + and revel in the ambrosial fumes which ascend from his throat! The very + exhalations of his body will plunge you into that dark and deathlike + dizziness which follows the smell of a bursting carcase, or the sight of a + corpse-strewn battle-field. (AMELIA turns away her face.) What sensations + of love! What rapture in those embraces! But is it not unjust to condemn a + man because of his diseased exterior? Even in the most wretched lump of + deformity a soul great and worthy of love may beam forth brightly like a + pearl on a dunghill. ( With a malignant smile.) Even from lips of + corruption love may——. To be sure if vice should undermine the + very foundations of character, if with chastity virtue too should take her + flight as the fragrance departs from the faded rose—if with the body + the soul too should be tainted and corrupted. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (rising joyfully). Ha! Charles! now I recognize thee again! Thou + art whole, whole! It was all a lie! Dost thou not know, miscreant, that it + would be impossible for Charles to be the being you describe? (FRANCIS + remains standing for some time, lost in thought, then suddenly turns round + to go away.) Whither are you going in such haste? Are you flying from your + own infamy? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (hiding his face). Let me go, let me go! to give free vent to my + tears! tyrannical father, thus to abandon the best of your sons to misery + and disgrace on every side! Let me go, Amelia! I will throw myself at his + feet, on my knees I will conjure him to transfer to me the curse that he + has pronounced, to disinherit me, to hate me, my blood, my life, my all——. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (falls on his neck). Brother of my Charles! Dearest, most excellent + Francis! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Oh, Amelia! how I love you for this unshaken constancy to my + brother. Forgive me for venturing to subject your love to so severe a + trial! How nobly you have realized my wishes! By those tears, those sighs, + that divine indignation—and for me too, for me—our souls did + so truly harmonize. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Oh, no! that they never did! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Alas! they harmonized so truly that I always thought we must be + twins. And were it not for that unfortunate difference in person, to be + twin-like, which, it must be admitted, would be to the disadvantage of + Charles, we should again and again be mistaken for each other. Thou art, I + often said to myself, thou art the very Charles, his echo, his + counterpart. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (shakes her head). No, no! by that chaste light of heaven! not an + atom of him, not the least spark of his soul. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. So entirely the same in our dispositions; the rose was his + favorite flower, and what flower do I esteem above the rose? He loved + music beyond expression; and ye are witnesses, ye stars! how often you + have listened to me playing on the harpsichord in the dead silence of + night, when all around lay buried in darkness and slumber; and how is it + possible for you, Amelia, still to doubt? if our love meets in one + perfection, and if it is the self-same love, how can its fruits + degenerate? (AMELIA looks at him with astonishment.) It was a calm, serene + evening, the last before his departure for Leipzic, when he took me with + him to the bower where you so often sat together in dreams of love,—we + were long speechless; at last he seized my hand, and said, in a low voice, + and with tears in his eyes, "I am leaving Amelia; I know not, but I have a + sad presentiment that it is forever; forsake her not, brother; be her + friend, her Charles—if Charles—should never—never + return." (He throws himself down before her, and kisses her hand with + fervor.) Never, never, never will he return; and I stand pledged by a + sacred oath to fulfil his behest! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (starting back). Traitor! Now thou art unmasked! In that very bower + he conjured me, if he died, to admit no other love. Dost thou see how + impious, how execrable——. Quit my sight! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. You know me not, Amelia; you do not know me in the least! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Oh, yes, I know you; from henceforth I know you; and you pretend + to be like him? You mean to say that he wept for me in your presence? + Yours? He would sooner have inscribed my name on the pillory? Begone—this + instant! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. You insult me. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Go—I say. You have robbed me of a precious hour; may it be + deducted from your life. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. You hate me then! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. I despise you—away! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +FRANCIS (stamping with fury). Only wait! you shall learn to tremble +before me!—To sacrifice me for a beggar! + [Exit in anger.] +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +AMELIA. Go, thou base villain! Now, Charles, am I again thine own. +Beggar, did he say! then is the world turned upside down, beggars are +kings, and kings are beggars! I would not change the rags he wears for +the imperial purple. The look with which he begs must, indeed, be a +noble, a royal look, a look that withers into naught the glory, the +pomp, the triumphs of the rich and great! Into the dust with thee, +glittering baubles! (She tears her pearls from her neck.) Let the rich +and the proud be condemned to bear the burden of gold, and silver, and +jewels! Be they condemned to carouse at the tables of the voluptuous! +To pamper their limbs on the downy couch of luxury! Charles! Charles! +Thus am I worthy of thee! + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT II. + </h2> + <h3> + SCENE I.—FRANCIS VON MOOR in his chamber—in meditation. + </h3> + <p> + FRANCIS. It lasts too long-and the doctor even says is recovering—an + old man's life is a very eternity! The course would be free and plain + before me, but for this troublesome, tough lump of flesh, which, like the + infernal demon-hound in ghost stories, bars the way to my treasures. + </p> + <p> + Must, then, my projects bend to the iron yoke of a mechanical system? Is + my soaring spirit to be chained down to the snail's pace of matter? To + blow out a wick which is already flickering upon its last drop of oil—'tis + nothing more. And yet I would rather not do it myself, on account of what + the world would say. I should not wish him to be killed, but merely + disposed of. I should like to do what your clever physician does, only the + reverse way—not stop Nature's course by running a bar across her + path, but only help her to speed a little faster. Are we not able to + prolong the conditions of life? Why, then, should we not also be able to + shorten them? Philosophers and physiologists teach us how close is the + sympathy between the emotions of the mind and the movements of the bodily + machine. Convulsive sensations are always accompanied by a disturbance of + the mechanical vibrations— passions injure the vital powers—an + overburdened spirit bursts its shell. Well, then—what if one knew + how to smooth this unbeaten path, for the easier entrance of death into + the citadel of life?—to work the body's destruction through the mind—ha! + an original device!—who can accomplish this?—a device without + a parallel! Think upon it, Moor! That were an art worthy of thee for its + inventor. Has not poisoning been raised almost to the rank of a regular + science, and Nature compelled, by the force of experiments, to define her + limits, so that one may now calculate the heart's throbbings for years in + advance, and say to the beating pulse, "So far, and no farther"? Why + should not one try one's skill in this line?* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[A woman in Paris, by means of a regularly performed series of + experiments, carried the art of poisoning to such perfection that + she could predict almost to a certainty the day of death, however + remote. Fie upon our physicians, who should blush to be outdone by + a woman in their own province. Beckmann, in his article on secret + poisoning, has given a particular account of this woman, the + Marchioness de Brinvilliers.—See "History of Inventions," Standard + Library Edition, vol. i, pp. 47-63.] +</pre> + <p> + And how, then, must I, too, go to work to dissever that sweet and peaceful + union of soul and body? What species of sensations should I seek to + produce? Which would most fiercely assail the condition of life? Anger?—that + ravenous wolf is too quickly satiated. Care? that worm gnaws far too + slowly. Grief?—that viper creeps too lazily for me. Fear?—hope + destroys its power. What! and are these the only executioners of man? is + the armory of death so soon exhausted? (In deep thought.) How now! what! + ho! I have it! (Starting up.) Terror! What is proof against terror? What + powers have religion and reason under that giant's icy grasp! And yet—if + he should withstand even this assault? If he should! Oh, then, come + Anguish to my aid! and thou, gnawing Repentance!—furies of hell, + burrowing snakes who regorge your food, and feed upon your own excrements; + ye that are forever destroying, and forever reproducing your poison! And + thou, howling Remorse, that desolatest thine own habitation, and feedest + upon thy mother. And come ye, too, gentle Graces, to my aid; even you, + sweet smiling Memory, goddess of the past—and thou, with thy + overflowing horn of plenty, blooming Futurity; show him in your mirror the + joys of Paradise, while with fleeting foot you elude his eager grasp. Thus + will I work my battery of death, stroke after stroke, upon his fragile + body, until the troop of furies close upon him with Despair! Triumph! + triumph!—the plan is complete—difficult and masterly beyond + compare—sure—safe; for then (with a sneer) the dissecting + knife can find no trace of wound or of corrosive poison. + </p> + <p> + (Resolutely.) Be it so! (Enter HERMANN.) Ha! <i>Deus ex machina</i>! + Hermann! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. At your service, gracious sir! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (shakes him by the hand). You will not find it that of an + ungrateful master. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. I have proofs of this. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. And you shall have more soon—very soon, Hermann!—I + have something to say to thee, Hermann. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. I am all attention. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. I know thee—thou art a resolute fellow—a man of + mettle.—To call thee smooth-tongued! My father has greatly belied + thee, Hermann. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. The devil take me if I forget it! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Spoken like a man! Vengeance becomes a manly heart! Thou art to + my mind, Hermann. Take this purse, Hermann. It should be heavier were I + master here. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. That is my unceasing wish, most gracious sir. I thank you. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Really, Hermann! dost thou wish that I were master? But my father + has the marrow of a lion in his bones, and I am but a younger son. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. I wish you were the eldest son, and that your father were as + marrowless as a girl sinking in a consumption. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Ha! how that elder son would recompense thee! How he would raise + thee from this grovelling condition, so ill suited to thy spirit and noble + birth, to be a light of the age!—Then shouldst thou be covered with + gold from head to foot, and dash through the streets four in hand—verily + thou shouldst!—But I am losing sight of what I meant to say.—Have + you already forgotten the Lady Amelia, Hermann? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. A curse upon it! Why do you remind me of her? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. My brother has filched her away from you. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. He shall rue it. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. She gave you the sack. And, if I remember right, he kicked you + down stairs. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. For which I will kick him into hell. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. He used to say, it was whispered abroad, that your father could + never look upon you without smiting his breast and sighing, "God be + merciful to me, a sinner!" + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (wildly). Thunder and lightning! No more of this! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. He advised you to sell your patent of nobility by auction, and to + get your stockings mended with the proceeds. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. By all the devils in hell, I'll scratch out his eyes with my own + nails! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. What? you are growing angry? What signifies your anger? What harm + can you do him? What can a mouse like you do to such a lion? Your rage + only makes his triumph the sweeter. You can do nothing more than gnash + your teeth, and vent your rage upon a dry crust. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (stamping). I will grind him to powder! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (slapping his shoulder). Fie, Hermann! You are a gentleman. You + must not put up with the affront. You must not give up the lady, no, not + for all the world, Hermann! By my soul, I would move heaven and earth were + I in your place. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. I will not rest till I have him, and him, too, under ground. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Not so violent, Hermann! Come nearer—you shall have Amelia. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. That I must; despite the devil himself, I will have her. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. You shall have her, I tell you; and that from my hand. Come + closer, I say.—You don't know, perhaps, that Charles is as good as + disinherited. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (going closer to him). Incredible! The first I have heard of it. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Be patient, and listen! Another time you shall hear more.— + Yes, I tell you, as good as banished these eleven months. But the old man + already begins to lament the hasty step, which, however, I flatter myself + (with a smile) is not entirely his own. Amelia, too, is incessantly + pursuing him with her tears and reproaches. Presently he will be having + him searched for in every quarter of the world; and if he finds him—then + it's all over with you, Hermann. You may perhaps have the honor of most + obsequiously holding the coach-door while he alights with the lady to get + married. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. I'll strangle him at the altar first. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. His father will soon give up his estates to him, and live in + retirement in his castle. Then the proud roysterer will have the reins in + his own hands, and laugh his enemies to scorn;—and I, who wished to + make a great man of you—a man of consequence—I myself, + Hermann, shall have to make my humble obeisance at his threshold. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (with fire). No, as sure as my name is Hermann, that shall never + be! If but the smallest spark of wit glimmer in this brain of mine, that + shall never be! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Will you be able to prevent it? You, too, my good Hermann, will + be made to feel his lash. He will spit in your face when he meets you in + the streets; and woe be to you should you venture to shrug your shoulders + or to make a wry mouth. Look, my friend! this is all that your lovesuit, + your prospects, and your mighty plans amount to. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Tell me, what am I to do? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Well, then, listen, Hermann! You see how I enter into your + feelings, like a true friend. Go—disguise yourself, so that no one + may recognize you; obtain audience of the old man; pretend to come + straight from Bohemia, to have been at the battle of Prague along with my + brother—to have seen him breathe his last on the field of battle! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Will he believe me? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Ho! ho! let that be my care! Take this packet. There you will + find your commission set forth at large; and documents, to boot, which + shall convince the most incredulous. Only make haste to get away + unobserved. Slip through the back gate into the yard, and then scale the + garden wall.—The denouement of this tragicomedy you may leave to me! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. That, I suppose, will be, "Long live our new baron, Francis von + Moor!" + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (patting his cheeks). How cunning you are! By this means, you see, + we attain all our aims at once and quickly. Amelia relinquishes all hope + of him,—the old man reproaches himself for the death of his son, and—he + sickens—a tottering edifice needs no earthquake to bring it down—he + will not survive the intelligence—then am I his only son, —Amelia + loses every support, and becomes the plaything of my will, and you may + easily guess—in short, all will go as we wish—but you must not + flinch from your word. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. What do you say? (Exultingly.) Sooner shall the ball turn back in + its course, and bury itself in the entrails of the marksman. Depend upon + me! Only let me to the work. Adieu! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (calling after him). The harvest is thine, dear Hermann! (Alone.) + When the ox has drawn the corn into the barn, he must put up with hay. A + dairy maid for thee, and no Amelia! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II.—Old Moor's Bedchamber. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OLD MOOR asleep in an arm-chair; AMELIA. +</pre> + <p> + AMELIA (approaching him on tip-toe). Softly! Softly! He slumbers. (She + places herself before him.) How beautiful! how venerable!— venerable + as the picture of a saint. No, I cannot be angry with thee, thou head with + the silver locks; I cannot be angry with thee! Slumber on gently, wake up + cheerfully—I alone will be the sufferer. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (dreaming). My son! my son! my son! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (seizes his hand). Hark!—hark! his son is in his dreams. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Are you there? Are you really there! Alas! how miserable you seem! + Fix not on me that mournful look! I am wretched enough. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (awakens him abruptly). Look up, dear old man! 'Twas but a dream. + Collect yourself! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (half awake). Was he not there? Did I not press his hands? Cruel + Francis! wilt thou tear him even from my dreams? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (aside). Ha! mark that, Amelia! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (rousing himself). Where is he? Where? Where am I? You here, + Amelia? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. How do you find yourself? You have had a refreshing slumber. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. I was dreaming about my son. Why did I not dream on? Perhaps I + might have obtained forgiveness from his lips. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Angels bear no resentment—he forgives you. (Seizes his hand + sorrowfully.) Father of my Charles! I, too, forgive you. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. No, no, my child! That death-like paleness of thy cheek is the + father's condemnation. Poor girl! I have robbed thee of the happiness of + thy youth. Oh, do not curse me! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (affectionately kissing his hand). I curse you? + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Dost thou know this portrait, my daughter? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Charles! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Such was he in his sixteenth year. But now, alas! how changed. Oh, + it is raging within me. That gentleness is now indignation; that smile + despair. It was his birthday, was it not, Amelia—in the jessamine + bower—when you drew this picture of him? Oh, my daughter! How happy + was I in your loves. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (with her eye still riveted upon the picture). No, no, it is not + he! By Heaven, that is not Charles! Here (pointing to her head and her + heart), here he is perfect; and how different. The feeble pencil avails + not to express that heavenly spirit which reigned in his fiery eye. Away + with it! This is a poor image, an ordinary man! I was a mere dauber. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. That kind, that cheering look! Had that been at my bedside, I + should have lived in the midst of death. Never, never should I have died! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. No, you would never, never have died. It would have been but a + leap, as we leap from one thought to another and a better. That look would + have lighted you across the tomb—that look would have lifted you + beyond the stars! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. It is hard! it is sad! I am dying, and my son Charles is not here—I + am borne to my tomb, and he weeps not over my grave. How sweet it is to be + lulled into the sleep of death by a son's prayer—that is the true + requiem. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (with enthusiasm). Yes, sweet it is, heavenly sweet, to be lulled + into the sleep of death by the song of the beloved. Perhaps our dreams + continue in the grave—a long, eternal, never-ending dream of Charles—till + the trumpet of resurrection sounds—(rising in ecstasy) —and + thenceforth and forever in his arms! (A pause; she goes to the piano and + plays.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ANDROMACHE. + + Oh, Hector, wilt thou go for evermore, + When fierce Achilles, on the blood-stained shore, + Heaps countless victims o'er Patroclus' grave? + When then thy hapless orphan boy will rear, + Teach him to praise the gods and hurl the spear, + When thou art swallow'd up in Xanthus' wave? +</pre> + <p> + OLD M. A beautiful song, my daughter. You must play that to me before I + die. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. It is the parting of Hector and Andromache. Charles and I used + often to sing it together to the guitar. (She continues.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + HECTOR. + + Beloved wife! stern duty calls to arms— + Go, fetch my lance! and cease those vain alarms! + On me is cast the destiny of Troy! + Astyanax, my child, the Gods will shield, + Should Hector fall upon the battle-field; + And in Elysium we shall meet with joy! +</pre> + <p> + Enter DANIEL. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. There is a man without, who craves to be admitted to your + presence, and says he brings tidings of importance. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. To me there is but one thing in this world of importance; thou + knowest it, Amelia. Perhaps it is some unfortunate creature who seeks + assistance? He shall not go hence in sorrow. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA.—If it is a beggar, let him come up quickly. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. Amelia, Amelia! spare me! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (continues to play and sing.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ANDROMACHE. + + Thy martial tread no more will grace my hall— + Thine arms shall hang sad relics on the wall— + And Priam's race of godlike heroes fade! + Oh, thou wilt go where Phoebus sheds no light— + Where black Cocytus wails in endless night + Thy love will die in Lethe's gloomy shade. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + HECTOR. + + Though I in Lethe's darksome wave should sink, + And cease on other mortal ties to think, + Yet thy true love shall never be forgot! + Hark! on the walls I hear the battle roar— + Gird on my armor—and, oh, weep no more. + Thy Hector's love in Lethe dieth not! +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (Enter FRANCIS, HERMANN in disguise, DANIEL.) +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS. Here is the man. He says that he brings terrible news. Can you + bear the recital! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. I know but one thing terrible to hear. Come hither, friend, and + spare me not! Hand him a cup of wine! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (in a feigned voice). Most gracious Sir? Let not a poor man be + visited with your displeasure, if against his will he lacerates your + heart. I am a stranger in these parts, but I know you well; you are the + father of Charles von Moor. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. How know you that? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. I knew your son + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (starting up). He lives then? He lives! You know him? Where is he? + Where? (About to rush out.) + </p> + <p> + OLD M. What know you about my son? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. He was a student at the university of Leipzic. From thence he + travelled about, I know not how far. He wandered all over Germany, and, as + he told me himself, barefoot and bareheaded, begging his bread from door + to door. After five months, the fatal war between Prussia and Austria + broke out afresh, and as he had no hopes left in this world, the fame of + Friedrich's victorious banner drew him to Bohemia. Permit me, said he to + the great Schwerin, to die on the bed of heroes, for I have no longer a + father!— + </p> + <p> + OLD M. O! Amelia! Look not on me! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. They gave him a pair of colors. With the Prussians he flew on the + wings of victory. We chanced to lie together, in the same tent. He talked + much of his old father, and of happy days that were past—and of + disappointed hopes—it brought the tears into our eyes. + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (buries his face in his pillow).—No more! Oh, no more! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. A week after, the fierce battle of Prague was fought—I can + assure you your son behaved like a brave soldier. He performed prodigies + that day in sight of the whole army. Five regiments were successively cut + down by his side, and still he kept his ground. Fiery shells fell right + and left, and still your son kept his ground. A ball shattered his right + hand: he seized the colors with his left, and still he kept his ground! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (in transport). Hector, Hector! do you hear? He kept his ground! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. On the evening of the battle I found him on the same spot. He had + sunk down, amidst a shower of hissing balls: with his left hand he was + staunching the blood that flowed from a fearful wound; his right he had + buried in the earth. "Comrade!" cried he when he saw me, "there has been a + report through the ranks that the general fell an hour ago—" "He is + fallen," I replied, "and thou?" "Well, then," he cried, withdrawing his + left hand from the wound, "let every brave soldier follow his general!" + Soon after he breathed out his noble soul, to join his heroic leader. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (feigning to rush wildly on HERMANN). May death seal thy accursed + lips! Art thou come here to give the death-blow to our father? Father! + Amelia! father! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. It was the last wish of my expiring comrade. "Take this sword," + faltered he, with his dying breath, "deliver it to my aged father; his + son's blood is upon it—he is avenged—let him rejoice. Tell him + that his curse drove me into battle and into death; that I fell in + despair." His last sigh was "Amelia." + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (like one aroused from lethargy). His last sigh—Amelia! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (screaming horribly, and tearing his hair). My curse drove him into + death! He fell in despair! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (pacing up and down the room). Oh! what have you done, father? My + Charles! my brother! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Here is the sword; and here, too, is a picture which he drew from + his breast at the same time. It is the very image of this young lady. + "This for my brother Francis," he said; I know not what he meant by it. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (feigning astonishment). For me? Amelia's picture? For me— + Charles—Amelia? For me? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (rushing violently upon HERMANN). Thou venal, bribed impostor! + (Lays hold of him.) + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. I am no impostor, noble lady. See yourself if it is not your + picture. It may be that you yourself gave it to him. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. By heaven, Amelia! your picture! It is, indeed. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (returns him the picture) My picture, mine! Oh! heavens and earth! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (screaming and tearing his face.) Woe, woe! my curse drove him into + death! He fell in despair! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. And he thought of me in the last and parting hour—of me. + Angelic soul! When the black banner of death already waved over him he + thought of me! + </p> + <p> + OLD M. (stammering like an idiot.) My curse drove him into death. In + despair my son perished. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HERMANN. This is more than I can bear! Farewell, old gentleman! +(Aside to FRANCIS.) How could you have the heart to do this? + [Exit in haste.] +</pre> + <p> + AMELIA (rises and rushes after him). Stay! stay! What were nis last words? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HERMANN (calling back). His last sigh was "Amelia." + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + AMELIA. His last sigh was Amelia! No, thou art no impostor. It is too true—true—he + is dead—dead! (staggering to and fro till she sinks down)—dead—Charles + is dead! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. What do I see? What is this line on the sword?—written with + blood—Amelia! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. By him? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Do I see clearly, or am I dreaming? Behold, in characters of + blood, "Francis, forsake not my Amelia." And on the other side, "Amelia, + all-powerful death has released thee from thy oath." Now do you see—do + you see? With hand stiffening in death he wrote it, with his warm life's + blood he wrote it—wrote it on the solemn brink of eternity. His + spirit lingered in his flight to unite Francis and Amelia. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +AMELIA. Gracious heaven! it is his own hand. He never loved me. + [Rushes off] +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS (stamping the ground). Confusion! her stubborn heart foils all my + cunning! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Woe, woe! forsake me not, my daughter! Francis, Francis! give me + back my son! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Who was it that cursed him? Who was it that drove his son into + battle, and death, and despair? Oh, he was an angel, a jewel of heaven! A + curse on his destroyers! A curse, a curse upon yourself! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR (strikes his breast and forehead with his clenched fist). He was + an angel, a jewel of heaven! A curse, a curse, perdition, a curse on + myself! I am the father who slew his noble son! He loved me even to death! + To expiate my vengeance he rushed into battle and into death! Monster, + monster that I am! (He rages against himself.) + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. He is gone. What avail these tardy lamentations? (with a satanic + sneer.) It is easier to murder than to restore to life. You will never + bring him back from his grave. + </p> + <p> + OLD Moon. Never, never, never bring him back from the grave! Gone! lost + for ever! And you it was that beguiled my heart to curse him.— you—you—Give + me back my son! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Rouse not my fury, lest I forsake you even in the hour of death! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Monster! inhuman monster! Restore my son to me. (Starts from the + chair and attempts to catch FRANCIS by the throat, who flings him back.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +FRANCIS. Feeble old dotard I would you dare? Die! despair! + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + OLD MOOR. May the thunder of a thousand curses light upon thee! thou hast + robbed me of my son. (Throwing himself about in his chair full of + despair). Alas! alas! to despair and yet not die. They fly, they forsake + me in death; my guardian angels fly from me; all the saints withdraw from + the hoary murderer. Oh, misery! will no one support this head, no one + release this struggling soul? No son, no daughter, no friend, not one + human being—will no one? Alone—forsaken. Woe, woe! To despair, + yet not to die! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter AMELIA, her eyes red with weeping. +</pre> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Amelia I messenger of heaven! Art thou come to release my soul? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (in a gentle tone). You have lost a noble son. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Murdered him, you mean. With the weight of this impeachment I + shall present myself before the judgment-seat of God. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Not so, old man! Our heavenly Father has taken him to himself. We + should have been too happy in this world. Above, above, beyond the stars, + we shall meet again. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Meet again! Meet again! Oh! it will pierce my soul like a Sword—should + I, a saint, meet him among the saints. In the midst of heaven the horrors + of hell will strike through me! The remembrance of that deed will crush me + in the presence of the Eternal: I have murdered my son! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Oh, his smiles will chase away the bitter remembrance from your + soul! Cheer up, dear father! I am quite cheerful. Has he not already sung + the name of Amelia to listening angels on seraphic harps, and has not + heaven's choir sweetly echoed it? Was not his last sigh, Amelia? And will + not Amelia be his first accent of joy? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Heavenly consolation flows from your lips! He will smile upon + me, you say? He will forgive me? You must stay with my beloved of my + Charles, when I die. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. To die is to fly to his arms. Oh, how happy and enviable is your + lot! Would that my bones were decayed!—that my hairs were gray! Woe + upon the vigor of youth! Welcome, decrepid age, nearer to heaven and my + Charles! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter FRANCIS. +</pre> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Come near, my son! Forgive me if I spoke too harshly to you just + now! I forgive you all. I wish to yield up my spirit in peace. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Have you done weeping for your son? For aught that I see you had + but one. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Jacob had twelve sons, but for his Joseph he wept tears of + blood. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Hum! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Bring the Bible, my daughter, and read to me the story of Jacob + and Joseph! It always appeared to me so touching, even before I myself + became a Jacob. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. What part shall I read to you? (Takes the Bible and turns over the + leaves.) + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Read to me the grief of the bereaved father, when he found his + Joseph no more among his children;—when he sought him in vain amidst + his eleven sons;—and his lamentation when he heard that he was taken + from him forever. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (reads). "And they took Joseph's coat, and killed a kid of the + goats, and dipped the coat in the blood; and they sent the coat of many + colors, and they brought it to their father, and said, 'This have we + found: know now whether it be thy son's coat or no.' (Exit FRANCIS + suddenly.) And he knew it and said, 'It is my son's coat; an evil beast + hath devoured him; Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces.'" + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR (falls back upon the pillow). An evil beast hath devoured Joseph! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (continues reading). "And Jacob rent his clothes, and put sackcloth + upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days. And all his sons and + all his daughters rose up to comfort him, but he refused to be comforted, + and he said, 'For I will go down into the grave--'" + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Leave off! leave off. I feel very ill. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (running towards him, lets fall the book). Heaven help us! What is + this? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. It is death—darkness—is waving—before my eyes—I + pray thee—send for the minister—that he may—give me—the + Holy Communion. Where is—my son Francis? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. He is fled. God have mercy upon us! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Fled—fled from his father's deathbed? And is that all—all + —of two children full of promise—thou hast given—thou + hast—taken away—thy name be— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +AMELIA (with a sudden cry). Dead! both dead! + [Exit in despair.] +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter FRANCIS, dancing with joy. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +FRANCIS. Dead, they cry, dead! Now am I master. Through the whole +castle it rings, dead! but stay, perchance he only sleeps? To be sure, +yes, to be sure! that certainly is a sleep after which no "good-morrow" +is ever said. Sleep and death are but twin-brothers. We will for once +change their names! Excellent, welcome sleep! We will call thee death! +(He closes the eyes of OLD MOOR.) Who now will come forward and dare to +accuse me at the bar of justice, or tell me to my face, thou art a +villain? Away, then, with this troublesome mask of humility and virtue! +Now you shall see Francis as he is, and tremble! My father was +overgentle in his demands, turned his domain into a family-circle, sat +blandly smiling at the gate, and saluted his peasants as brethren and +children. My brows shall lower upon you like thunderclouds; my lordly +name shall hover over you like a threatening comet over the mountains; +my forehead shall be your weather-glass! He would caress and fondle +the child that lifted its stubborn head against him. But fondling and +caressing is not my mode. I will drive the rowels of the spur into +their flesh, and give the scourge a trial. Under my rule it shall be +brought to pass that potatoes and small-beer shall be considered a +holiday treat; and woe to him who meets my eye with the audacious front +of health. Haggard want and crouching fear are my insignia; and in this +livery I will clothe ye. + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III.—THE BOHEMIAN WOODS. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + SPIEGELBERG, RAZMAN, A Troop Of ROBBERS. +</pre> + <p> + RAZ. Are you come? Is it really you? Oh, let me squeeze thee into a jelly, + my dear heart's brother! Welcome to the Bohemian forests! Why, you are + grown quite stout and jolly! You have brought us recruits in right + earnest, a little army of them; you are the very prince of crimps. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Eh, brother? Eli? And proper fellows they are! You must confess + the blessing of heaven is visibly upon me; I was a poor, hungry wretch, + and had nothing but this staff when I went over the Jordan, and now there + are eight-and-seventy of us, mostly ruined shopkeepers, rejected masters + of arts, and law-clerks from the Swabian provinces. They are a rare set of + fellows, brother, capital fellows, I promise you; they will steal you the + very buttons off each other's trousers in perfect security, although in + the teeth of a loaded musket,* and they live in clover and enjoy a + reputation for forty miles round, which is quite astonishing. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[The acting edition reads, "Hang your hat up in the sun, and I'll + take you a wager it's gone the next minute, as clean out of sight + as if the devil himself had walked off with it."] +</pre> + <p> + There is not a newspaper in which you will not find some little feat or + other of that cunning fellow, Spiegelberg; I take in the papers for + nothing else; they have described me from head to foot; you would think + you saw me; they have not forgotten even my coat-buttons. But we lead them + gloriously by the nose. The other day I went to the printing-office and + pretended that I had seen the famous Spiegelberg, dictated to a + penny-a-liner who was sitting there the exact image of a quack doctor in + the town; the matter gets wind, the fellow is arrested, put to the rack, + and in his anguish and stupidity he confesses the devil take me if he does + not—confesses that he is Spiegelberg. Fire and fury! I was on the + point of giving myself up to a magistrate rather than have my fair fame + marred by such a poltroon; however, within three months he was hanged. I + was obliged to stuff a right good pinch of snuff into my nose as some time + afterwards I was passing the gibbet and saw the pseudo-Spiegelberg + parading there in all his glory; and, while Spiegelberg's representative + is dangling by the neck, the real Spiegelberg very quietly slips himself + out of the noose, and makes jolly long noses behind the backs of these + sagacious wiseacres of the law. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. (laughing). You are still the same fellow you always were. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Ay, sure! body and soul. But I must tell you a bit of fun, my + boy, which I had the other day in the nunnery of St. Austin. We fell in + with the convent just about sunset; and as I had not fired a single + cartridge all day,—you know I hate the <i>diem perdidi</i> as I hate + death itself,—I was determined to immortalize the night by some + glorious exploit, even though it should cost the devil one of his ears! We + kept quite quiet till late in the night. At last all is as still as a + mouse —the lights are extinguished. We fancy the nuns must be + comfortably tucked up. So I take brother Grimm along with me, and order + the others to wait at the gate till they hear my whistle—I secure + the watchman, take the keys from him, creep into the maid-servants' + dormitory, take. away all their clothes, and whisk the bundle out at the + window. We go on from cell to cell, take away the clothes of one sister + after another, and lastly those of the lady-abbess herself. Then I sound + my whistle, and my fellows outside begin to storm and halloo as if + doomsday was at hand, and away they rush with the devil's own uproar into + the cells of the sisters! Ha, ha, ha! You should have seen the game—how + the poor creatures were groping about in the dark for their petticoats, + and how they took on when they found they were gone; and we, in the + meantime, at 'em like very devils; and now, terrified and amazed, they + wriggled under their bedclothes, or cowered together like cats behind the + stoves. There was such shrieking and lamentation; and then the old beldame + of an abbess—you know, brother, there is nothing in the world I hate + so much as a spider and an old woman—so you may just fancy that + wrinkled old hag standing naked before me, conjuring me by her maiden + modesty forsooth! Well, I was determined to make short work of it; either, + said I, out with your plate and your convent jewels and all your shining + dollars, or—my fellows knew what I meant. The end of it was I + brought away more than a thousand dollars' worth out of the convent, to + say nothing of the fun, which will tell its own story in due time. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. (stamping on the ground). Hang it, that I should be absent on such an + occasion. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Do you see? Now tell me, is not that life? 'Tis that which keeps + one fresh and hale, and braces the body so that it swells hourly like an + abbot's paunch; I don't know, but I think I must be endowed with some + magnetic property, which attracts all the vagabonds on the face of the + earth towards me like steel and iron. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. A precious magnet, indeed. But I should like to know, I'll be hanged + if I shouldn't, what witchcraft you use? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Witchcraft? No need of witchcraft. All it wants is a head—a + certain practical capacity which, of course, is not taken in with every + spoonful of barley meal; for you know I have always said that an honest + man may be carved out of any willow stump, but to make a rogue you must + have brains; besides which it requires a national genius—a certain + rascal-climate—so to speak.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[In the first (and suppressed) edition was added, "Go to the + Grisons, for instance; that is what I call the thief's Athens." + This obnoxious passage has been carefully expunged from all the + subsequent editions. It gave mortal offence to the Grison + magistrates, who made a formal complaint of the insult and caused + Schiller to be severely rebuked by the Grand Duke. This incident + forms one of the epochs in our author's history.] +</pre> + <p> + RAZ. Brother, I have heard Italy celebrated for its artists. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Yes, yes! Give the devil his due. Italy makes a very noble + figure; and if Germany goes on as it has begun, and if the Bible gets + fairly kicked out, of which there is every prospect, Germany, too, may in + time arrive at something respectable; but I should tell you that climate + does not, after all, do such a wonderful deal; genius thrives everywhere; + and as for the rest, brother, a crab, you know, will never become a + pineapple, not even in Paradise. But to pursue our subject, where did I + leave off? + </p> + <p> + RAZ. You were going to tell me about your stratagems. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Ah, yes! my stratagems. Well, when you get into a town, the first + thing is to fish out from the beadles, watchmen, and turnkeys, who are + their best customers, and for these, accordingly, you must look out; then + ensconce yourself snugly in coffee-houses, brothels, and beer-shops, and + observe who cry out most against the cheapness of the times, the reduced + five per cents., and the increasing nuisance of police regulations; who + rail the loudest against government, or decry physiognomical science, and + such like? These are the right sort of fellows, brother. Their honesty is + as loose as a hollow tooth; you have only to apply your pincers. Or a + shorter and even better plan is to drop a full purse in the public + highway, conceal yourself somewhere near, and mark who finds it. Presently + after you come running up, search, proclaim your loss aloud, and ask him, + as it were casually, "Have you perchance picked up a purse, sir?" If he + says "Yes," why then the devil fails you. But if he denies it, with a + "pardon me, sir, I remember, I am sorry, sir," (he jumps up), then, + brother, you've done the trick. Extinguish your lantern, cunning Diogenes, + you have found your match. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. You are an accomplished practitioner. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. My God! As if that had ever been doubted. Well, then, when you + have got your man into the net, you must take great care to land him + cleverly. You see, my son, the way I have managed is thus: as soon as I + was on the scent I stuck to my candidate like a leech; I drank brotherhood + with him, and, <i>nota bene</i>, you must always pay the score. That costs + a pretty penny, it is true, but never mind that. You must go further; + introduce him to gaming-houses and brothels; entangle him in broils and + rogueries till he becomes bankrupt in health and strength, in purse, + conscience, and reputation; for I must tell you, by the way, that you will + make nothing of it unless you ruin both body and soul. Believe me, + brother, and I have experienced it more than fifty times in my extensive + practice, that when the honest man is once ousted from his stronghold, the + devil has it all his own way—the transition is then as easy as from + a whore to a devotee. But hark! What bang was that? + </p> + <p> + RAZ. It was thunder; go on. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Or, there is a yet shorter and still better way. You strip your + man of all he has, even to his very shirt, and then he will come to you of + his own accord; you won't teach me to suck eggs, brother; ask that + copper-faced fellow there. My eyes, how neatly I got him into my meshes. I + showed him forty ducats, which I promised to give him if he would bring me + an impression in wax of his master's keys. Only think, the stupid brute + not only does this, but actually brings me—I'll be hanged if he did + not—the keys themselves; and then thinks to get the money. "Sirrah," + said I, "are you aware that I am going to carry these keys straight to the + lieutenant of police, and to bespeak a place for you on the gibbet?" By + the powers! you should have seen how the simpleton opened his eyes, and + began to shake from head to foot like a dripping poodle. "For heaven's + sake, sir, do but consider. I will— will—" "What will you? + Will you at once cut your stick and go to the devil with me?" "Oh, with + all my heart, with great pleasure." Ha! ha! ha! my fine fellow; toasted + cheese is the thing to catch mice with; do have a good laugh at him, + Razman; ha! ha! ha! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Yes, yes, I must confess. I shall inscribe that lesson in letters of + gold upon the tablet of my brain. Satan must know his people right well to + have chosen you for his factor. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Eh, brother? Eli? And if I help him to half a score of fellows he + will, of course, let me off scot-free—publishers, you know, always + give one copy in ten gratis to those who collect subscribers for them; why + should the devil be more of a Jew? Razman, I smell powder. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Zounds! I smelt it long ago. You may depend upon it there has being + something going forward hereabouts. Yes, yes! I can tell you, Spiegelberg, + you will be welcome to our captain with your recruits; he, too, has got + hold of some brave fellows. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. But look at mine! at mine here, bah! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Well, well! they may be tolerably expert in the finger department, + but, I tell you, the fame of our captain has tempted even some honorable + men to join his staff. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. So much the worse. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Without joking. And they are not ashamed to serve under such a + leader. He does not commit murder as we do for the sake of plunder; and as + to money, as soon as he had plenty of it at command, he did not seem to + care a straw for it; and his third of the booty, which belongs to him of + right, he gives away to orphans, or supports promising young men with it + at college. But should he happen to get a country squire into his clutches + who grinds down his peasants like cattle, or some gold-laced villain, who + warps the law to his own purposes, and hoodwinks the eyes of justice with + his gold, or any chap of that kidney; then, my boy, he is in his element, + and rages like a very devil, as if every fibre in his body were a fury. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Humph! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. The other day we were told at a tavern that a rich count from + Ratisbon was about to pass through, who had gained the day in a suit worth + a million of money by the craftiness of his lawyer. The captain was just + sitting down to a game of backgammon. "How many of us are there?" said he + to me, rising in haste. I saw him bite his nether lip, which he never does + except when he is very determined. "Not more than five," I replied. + "That's enough," he said; threw his score on the table, left the wine he + had ordered untouched, and off we went. The whole time he did not utter a + syllable, but walked aloof and alone, only asking us from time to time + whether we heard anything, and now and then desiring us to lay our ears to + the ground. At last the count came in sight, his carriage heavily laden, + the lawyer, seated by his side, an outrider in advance, and two horsemen + riding behind. Then you should have seen the man. With a pistol in each + hand he ran before us to the carriage,—and the voice with which he + thundered, "Halt!" The coachman, who would not halt, was soon toppled from + his box; the count fired out of the carriage and missed—the horseman + fled. "Your money, rascal!" cried Moor, with his stentorian voice. The + count lay like a bullock under the axe: "And are you the rogue who turns + justice into a venal prostitute?" The lawyer shook till his teeth + chattered again; and a dagger soon stuck in his body, like a stake in a + vineyard. "I have done my part," cried the captain, turning proudly away; + "the plunder is your affair." And with this he vanished into the forest. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Hum! hum! Brother, what I told you just now remains between + ourselves; there is no occasion for his knowing it. You understand me? + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Yes, yes, I understand! + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. You know the man! He has his own notions! You understand me? + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Oh, I quite understand. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (Enter SCHWARZ at full speed). +</pre> + <p> + Who's there? What is the matter? Any travellers in the forest? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Quick, quick! Where are the others? Zounds! there you stand + gossiping! Don't you know—do you know nothing of it?—that poor + Roller— + </p> + <p> + PAZ. What of him? What of him? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. He's hanged, that's all, and four others with him— + </p> + <p> + RAz. Roller hanged? S'death! when? How do you know? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. He has been in limbo more than three weeks, and we knew nothing + of it. He was brought up for examination three several days, and still we + heard nothing. They put him to the rack to make him tell where the captain + was to be found—but the brave fellow would not slip. Yesterday he + got his sentence, and this morning was dispatched express to the devil! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Confound it! Does the captain know? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. He heard of it only yesterday. He foamed like a wild boar. You + know that Roller was always an especial favorite; and then the rack! Ropes + and scaling-ladders were conveyed to the prison, but in vain. Moor himself + got access to him disguised as a Capuchin monk, and proposed to change + clothes with him; but Roller absolutely refused; whereupon the captain + swore an oath that made our very flesh creep. He vowed that he would light + a funeral pile for him, such as had never yet graced the bier of royalty, + one that should burn them all to cinders. I fear for the city. He has long + owed it a grudge for its intolerable bigotry; and you know, when he says, + "I'll do it," the thing is as good as done. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. That is true! I know the captain. If he had pledged his word to the + devil to go to hell he never would pray again, though half a pater-noster + would take him to heaven. Alas! poor Roller!—poor Roller! + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. <i>Memento mori</i>! But it does not concern me. (Hums a tune). + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Should I happen to pass the gallows stone, + I shall just take a sight with one eye, + And think to myself, you may dangle alone, + Who now, sir, 's the fool, you or I? +</pre> + <p> + RAZ. (Jumping up). Hark! a shot! (Firing and noise is heard behind the + scenes). + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Another! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. And another! The captain! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (Voices behind the scenes are heard singing). + + The Nurnbergers deem it the wisest plan, + Never to hang till they've caught their man. + <i>Da capo</i>. +</pre> + <p> + SCHWEITZER and ROLLER (behind the scenes). Holla, ho! Holla, ho! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Roller! by all the devils! Roller! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER and ROLLER (still behind the scenes). Razman! Schwarz! + Spiegelberg! Razman! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Roller! Schweitzer! Thunder and lightning! Fire and fury! (They run + towards him.) + </p> + <p> + Enter CHARLES VON MOOR (on horseback), SCHWEITZER, ROLLER, GRIMM, + SCHUFTERLE, and a troop of ROBBERS covered with dust and mud. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (leaping from his horse) Liberty! Liberty!—Thou art on terra + firma, Roller! Take my horse, Schweitzer, and wash him with wine. (Throws + himself on the ground.) That was hot work! + </p> + <p> + RAZ. (to ROLLER). Well, by the fires of Pluto! Art thou risen from the + wheel? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Art thou his ghost? or am I a fool? or art thou really the man? + </p> + <p> + ROLLER (still breathless). The identical—alive—whole.—Where + do you think I come from? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. It would puzzle a witch to tell! The staff was already broken + over you. + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Ay, that it was, and more than that! I come straightway from the + gallows. Only let me get my breath. Schweitzer will tell you all. Give me + a glass of brandy! You there too, Spiegelberg! I thought we should have + met again in another place. But give me a glass of brandy! my bones are + tumbling to pieces. Oh, my captain! Where is my captain? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Have patience, man, have patience. Just tell me—say—come, + let's hear—how did you escape? In the name of wonder how came we to + get you back again? My brain is bewildered. From the gallows, you say? + </p> + <p> + ROLLER (swallows a flask of brandy). Ah, that is capital! that warms the + inside! Straight from the gallows, I tell you. You stand there amid stare + as if that was impossible. I can assure you, I was not more than three + paces from that blessed ladder, on which I was to mount to Abraham's bosom—so + near, so very near, that I was sold, skin and all, to the dissecting-room! + The fee-simple of my life was not worth a pinch of snuff. To the captain I + am indebted for breath, and liberty, and life. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. It was a trick worth the telling. We had heard the day before, + through our spies, that Roller was in the devil's own pickle; and unless + the vault of heaven fell in suddenly he would, on the morrow —that + is, to-day—go the way of all flesh. Up! says the captain, and follow + me—what is not a friend worth? Whether we save him or not, we will + at least light him up a funeral pile such as never yet honored royalty; + one which shall burn them black and blue. The whole troop was summoned. We + sent Roller a trusty messenger, who conveyed the notice to him in a little + billet, which he slipped into his porridge. + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. I had but small hope of success. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. We waited till the thoroughfares were clear. The whole town + was out after the sight; equestrians, pedestrians, carriages, all + pell-mell; the noise and the gibbet-psalm sounded far and wide. Now, says + the captain, light up, light up! We all flew like darts; they set fire to + the city in three-and-thirty places at once; threw burning firebrands on + the powder-magazine, and into the churches and granaries. Morbleu! in less + than a quarter of an hour a northeaster, which, like us, must have owed a + grudge to the city, came seasonably to our aid, and helped to lift the + flames up to the highest gables. Meanwhile we ran up and down the streets + like furies, crying, fire! ho! fire! ho! in every direction. There was + such howling—screaming-tumult—fire-bells tolling. And + presently the powder-magazine blew up into the air with a crash as if the + earth were rent in twain, heaven burst to shivers, and hell sunk ten + thousand fathoms deeper. + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Now my guards looked behind them—there lay the city, like + Sodom and Gomorrah—the whole horizon was one mass of fire, + brimstone, and smoke; and forty hills echoed and reflected the infernal + prank far and wide. A panic seized them all—I take advantage of the + moment, and, quick as lightning—my fetters had been taken off, so + nearly was my time come—while my guards were looking away petrified, + like Lot's wife, I shot off—tore through the crowd—and away! + After running some sixty paces I throw off my clothes, plunge into the + river, and swim along under water till I think they have lost sight of me. + My captain stood ready, with horses and clothes—and here I am. Moor! + Moor! I only wish that you may soon get into just such another scrape that + I may requite you in like manner. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. A brutal wish, for which you deserve to be hanged. It was a glorious + prank, though. + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. It was help in need; you cannot judge of it. You should have + marched, like me, with a rope round your neck, travelling to your grave in + the living body, and seen their horrid sacramental forms and hangman's + ceremonies—and then, at every reluctant step, as the struggling feet + were thrust forward, to see the infernal machine, on which I was to be + elevated, glaring more and more hideously in the blaze of a noonday sun—and + the hangman's rapscallions watching for their prey —and the horrible + psalm-singing—the cursed twang still rings in my ears—and the + screeching hungry ravens, a whole flight of them, who were hovering over + the half-rotten carcass of my predecessor. To see all this—ay, more, + to have a foretaste of the blessedness which was in store for me! Brother, + brother! And then, all of a sudden, the signal of deliverance. It was an + explosion as if the vault of heaven were rent in twain. Hark ye, fellows! + I tell you, if a man were to leap out of a fiery furnace into a freezing + lake he could not feel the contrast half so strongly as I did when I + gained the opposite shore. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (Laughs.) Poor wretch! Well, you have got over it. (Pledges him). + Here's to a happy regeneration! + </p> + <p> + ROLLER (flings away his glass). No, by all the treasures of Mammon, I + should not like to go through it a second time. Death is something more + than a harlequin's leap, and its terrors are even worse than death itself. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. And the powder-magazine leaping into the air! Don't you see it + now, Razman? That was the reason the air stunk so, for miles round, of + brimstone, as if the whole wardrobe of Moloch was being aired under the + open firmament. It was a master-stroke, captain! I envy you for it. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. If the town makes it a holiday-treat to see our comrade killed + by a baited hog, why the devil should we scruple to sacrifice the city for + the rescue of our comrade? And, by the way, our fellows had the extra + treat of being able to plunder worse than the old emperor. Tell me, what + have you sacked? + </p> + <p> + ONE OF THE TROOP. I crept into St. Stephen's church during the hubbub, and + tore the gold lace from the altarcloth. The patron saint, thought I to + myself, can make gold lace out of packthread. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. 'Twas well done. What is the use of such rubbish in a church? + They offer it to the Creator, who despises such trumpery, while they leave + his creatures to die of hunger. And you, Sprazeler—where did you + throw your net? + </p> + <p> + A SECOND. I and Brizal broke into a merchant's store, and have brought + stuffs enough with us to serve fifty men. + </p> + <p> + A THIRD. I have filched two gold watches and a dozen silver spoons. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Well done, well done! And we have lighted them a bonfire that + will take a fortnight to put out again. And, to get rid of the fire, they + must ruin the city with water. Do you know, Schufterle, how many lives + have been lost? + </p> + <p> + SCHUF. Eighty-three, they say. The powder-magazine alone blew threescore + to atoms. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (very seriously). Roller, thou art dearly bought. + </p> + <p> + SCHUF. Bah! bah! What of that? If they had but been men it would have been + another matter—but they were babes in swaddling clothes, and + shrivelled old nurses that kept the flies from them, and dried-up + stove-squatters who could not crawl to the door—patients whining for + the doctor, who, with his stately gravity, was marching to the sport. All + that had the use of their legs had gone forth in the sight, and nothing + remained at home but the dregs of the city. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Alas for the poor creatures! Sick people, sayest thou, old men + and infants? + </p> + <p> + SCHUF. Ay, the devil go with them! And lying-in-women into the bargain; + and women far gone with child, who were afraid of miscarrying under the + gibbet; and young mothers, who thought the sight might do them a mischief, + and mark the gallows upon the foreheads of their unborn babes—poor + poets, without a shoe, because their only pair had been sent to the + cobbler to mend—and other such vermin, not worth the trouble of + mentioning. As I chanced to pass by a cottage I heard a great squalling + inside. I looked in; and, when I came to examine, what do you think it + was? Why, an infant—a plump and ruddy urchin—lying on the + floor under a table which was just beginning to burn. Poor little wretch! + said I, you will be cold there, and with that I threw it into the flames! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +CHARLES. Indeed, Schufterle? Then may those flames burn in thy bosom +to all eternity! Avaunt, monster! Never let me see thee again in my +troop! What! Do you murmur? Do you hesitate? Who dares hesitate when +I command? Away with him, I say! And there are others among you ripe +for my vengeance. I know thee, Spiegelberg. But I will step in among +you ere long, and hold a fearful muster-roll. + [Exeunt, trembling.] +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES (alone, walking up and down in great agitation). Hear them not, + thou avenger in heaven! How can I avert it? Art thou to blame, great God, + if thy engines, pestilence, and famine, and floods, overwhelm the just + with the unjust? Who can stay the flame, which is kindled to destroy the + hornet's nest, from extending to the blessed harvest? Oh! fie on the + slaughter of women, and children, and the sick! How this deed weighs me + down! It has poisoned my fairest achievements! There he stands, poor fool, + abashed and disgraced in the sight of heaven; the boy that presumed to + wield Jove's thunder, and overthrew pigmies when he should have crushed + Titans. Go, go! 'tis not for thee, puny son of clay, to wield the avenging + sword of sovereign justice! Thou didst fail at thy first essay. Here, + then, I renounce the audacious scheme. I go to hide myself in some deep + cleft of the earth, where no daylight will be witness of my shame. (He is + about to fly.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter a ROBBER hurriedly. +</pre> + <p> + ROBBER. Look out, captain! There is mischief in the wind! Whole + detachments of Bohemian cavalry are scouring the forests. That infernal + bailiff must have betrayed us. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter more ROBBERS. +</pre> + <p> + 2D ROBBER. Captain! captain! they have tracked us! Some thousands of them + are forming a cordon round the middle forest. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter more ROBBERS again. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +3D ROBBER. Woe, woe, woe! we are all taken, hanged drawn, and +quartered. Thousands of hussars, dragoons, and chasseurs are mustering +on the heights, and guard all the passes. + [Exit CHARLES VON MOOR.] + + Enter SCHWEITZER, GRIMM, ROLLER, SCHWARZ, SCHUFTERLE, + SPIEGELBERG, RAZMAN, and the whole troop. +</pre> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Ha! Have we routed them out of their feather-beds at last? + Come, be jolly, Roller! I have long wished to have a bout with those + knights of the bread-basket. Where is the captain? Is the whole troop + assembled? I hope we have powder enough? + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Powder, I believe you; but we are only eighty in all and therefore + scarcely one to twenty. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. So much the better! And though there were fifty against my + great toe-nail—fellows who have waited till we lit the straw under + their very seats. Brother, brother, there is nothing to fear. They sell + their lives for tenpence; and are we not fighting for our necks? We will + pour into them like a deluge, and fire volleys upon their heads like + crashes of thunder. But where the devil is the captain. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. He forsakes us in this extremity. Is there no hope of escape? + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Escape? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Oh, that I had tarried in Jerusalem! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. I wish you were choked in a cesspool, you paltry coward! With + defenceless nuns you are a mighty man; but at sight of a pair of fists a + confirmed sneak! Now show your courage or you shall be sewn up alive in an + ass's hide and baited to death with dogs. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. The captain! the captain! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter CHARLES (speaking slowly to himself). +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. I have allowed them to be hemmed in on every side. Now they must + fight with the energy of despair. (Aloud.) Now my boys! now for it! We + must fight like wounded boars, or we are utterly lost! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Ha! I'll rip them open with my tusks, till their entrails + protrude by the yard! Lead on, captain! we will follow you into the very + jaws of death. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Charge all your arms! You've plenty of powder, I hope? + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (with energy). Powder? ay, enough to blow the earth up to the + moon. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Every one of us has five brace of pistols, ready loaded, and three + carbines to boot. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Good! good! Now some of you must climb up the trees, or conceal + yourselves in the thickets, and some fire upon them in ambush— + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. That part will suit you, Spiegelberg. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. The rest will follow me, and fall upon their flanks like furies. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. There will I be! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. At the same time let every man make his whistle ring through the + forest, and gallop about in every direction, so that our numbers may + appear the more formidable. And let all the dogs be unchained, and set on + upon their ranks, that they may be broken and dispersed and run in the way + of our fire. We three, Roller, Schweitzer, and myself, will fight wherever + the fray is hottest. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Masterly! excellent! We will so bewilder them with balls that + they shall not know whence the salutes are coming. I have more than once + shot away a cherry from the mouth. Only let them come on (SCHUFTERLE is + pulling SCHWEITZER; the latter takes the captain aside, and entreats him + in a low voice.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Silence! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. I entreat you— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Away! Let him have the benefit of his disgrace; it has saved him. + He shall not die on the same field with myself, my Schweitzer, and my + Roller. Let him change his apparel, and I will say he is a traveller whom + I have plundered. Make yourself easy, Schweitzer. Take my word for it he + will be hanged yet. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter FATHER DOMINIC. +</pre> + <p> + FATHER DOM. (to himself, starts). Is this the dragon's nest? With your + leave, sirs! I am a servant of the church; and yonder are seventeen + hundred men who guard every hair of my head. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Bravo! bravo! Well spoken to keep his courage warm. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Silence, comrade! Will you tell us briefly, good father, what is + your errand here? + </p> + <p> + FATHER Dom. I am delegated by the high justices, on whose sentence hangs + life or death—ye thieves—ye incendiaries—ye villains—ye + venomous generation of vipers, crawling about in the dark, and stinging in + secret—ye refuse of humanity—brood of hell—food for + ravens and worms—colonists for the gallows and the wheel— + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> + <img alt="2pa202 (151K)" src="images/2pa202.jpg" width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Dog! a truce with your foul tongue! or ——— + (He holds the butt-end of his gun before FATHER DOMINIC'S face.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Fie, fie, Schweitzer! You cut the thread of his discourse. He has + got his sermon so nicely by heart. Pray go on, Sir! "for the gallows and + the wheel?" + </p> + <p> + FATHER Dom. And thou, their precious captain!—commander-in-chief of + cut-purses!—king of sharpers! Grand Mogul of all the rogues under + the sun!—great prototype of that first hellish ringleader who imbued + a thousand legions of innocent angels with the flame of rebellion, and + drew them down with him into the bottomless pit of damnation! The + agonizing cries of bereaved mothers pursue thy footsteps! Thou drinkest + blood like water! and thy murderous knife holds men cheaper than + air-bubbles! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Very true—exceedingly true! Pray proceed, Sir! + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. What do you mean? Very true—exceedingly true! Is that an + answer? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. How, Sir? You were not prepared for that, it seems? Go on— + by all means go on. What more were you going to say? + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. (heated). Abominable wretch! Avaunt! Does not the blood of a + murdered count of the empire cling to thy accursed fingers? Hast thou not, + with sacrilegious hands, dared to break into the Lord's sanctuary, and + carry off the consecrated vessels of the <i>sanctissimum</i>? Hast thou + not flung firebrands into our godly city, and brought down the + powder-magazine upon the heads of devout Christians? (Clasps his hands). + Horrible, horrible wickedness! that stinketh in the nostrils of Heaven, + and provoketh the day of judgment to burst upon you suddenly! ripe for + retribution—rushing headlong to the last trump! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Masterly guesses thus far! But now, sir, to the point! What is it + that the right worshipful justices wish to convey to me through you? + </p> + <p> + FATHER Dom. What you are not worthy to receive. Look around you, + incendiary! As far as your eye can reach you are environed by our horsemen—there + is no chance of escape. As surely as cherries grow on these oaks, and + peaches on these firs, so surely shall you turn your backs upon these oaks + and these firs in safety. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Do you hear that, Schweitzer? But go on! + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. Hear, then, what mercy and forbearance justice shows towards + such miscreants. If you instantly prostrate yourselves in submission and + sue for mercy and forgiveness, then severity itself will relent to + compassion, and justice be to thee an indulgent mother. She will shut one + eye upon your horrible crimes, and be satisfied—only think!—to + let you be broken on the wheel. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Did you hear that, captain? Shall I throttle this well-trained + shepherd's cur till the red blood spurts from every pore? + </p> + <p> + ROLLER. Captain! Fire and fury! Captain! How he bites his lip! Shall I + topple this fellow upside down like a ninepin? + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Mine, mine be the job! Let me kneel to you, captain; let me + implore you! I beseech you to grant me the delight of pounding him to a + jelly! (FATHER DOMINIC screams.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Touch him not! Let no one lay a finger on him!—(To FATHER + DOMINIC, drawing his sword.) Hark ye, sir father! Here stand + nine-and-seventy men, of whom I am the captain, and not one of them has + been taught to trot at a signal, or learned to dance to the music of + artillery; while yonder stand seventeen hundred men grown gray under the + musket. But now listen! Thus says Moor, the captain of incendiaries. It is + true I have slain a count of the empire, burnt and plundered the church of + St. Dominic, flung firebrands into your bigoted city, and brought down the + powder-magazine upon the heads of devout Christians. But that is not all,—I + have done more. (He holds out his right hand.) Do you observe these four + costly rings, one on each finger? Go and report punctually to their + worships, on whose sentence hangs life or death what you shall hear and + see. This ruby I drew from the finger of a minister, whom I stretched at + the feet of his prince, during the chase. He had fawned himself up from + the lowest dregs, to be the first favorite;—the ruin of his neighbor + was his ladder to greatness—orphans' tears helped him to mount it. + This diamond I took from a lord treasurer, who sold offices of honor and + trust to the highest bidder, and drove the sorrowing patriot from his + door. This opal I wear in honor of a priest of your cloth, whom I + dispatched with my own hand, after he had publicly deplored in his pulpit + the waning power of the Inquisition. I could tell you more stories about + my rings, but that I repent the words I have already wasted upon you— + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. O Pharaoh! Pharaoh! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Do you hear it? Did you mark that sigh? Does he not stand there + as if he were imploring fire from heaven to descend and destroy this troop + of Korah? He pronounces judgment with a shrug of the shoulders, and + eternal damnation with a Christian "Alas!" Is it possible for humanity to + be so utterly blind? He who has the hundred eyes of Argus to spy out the + faults of his brother—can he be so totally blind to his own? They + thunder forth from their clouds about gentleness and forbearance, while + they sacrifice human victims to the God of love as if he were the fiery + Moloch. They preach the love of one's neighbor, while they drive the aged + and blind with curses from their door. They rave against covetousness; yet + for the sake of gold they have depopulated Peru, and yoked the natives, + like cattle, to their chariots. They rack their brains in wonder to + account for the creation of a Judas Iscariot, yet the best of them would + betray the whole Trinity for ten shekels. Out upon you, Pharisees! ye + falsifiers of truth! ye apes of Deity! You are not ashamed to kneel before + crucifixes and altars; you lacerate your backs with thongs, and mortify + your flesh with fasting; and with these pitiful mummeries you think, fools + as you are, to veil the eyes of Him whom, with the same breath, you + address as the Omniscient, just as the great are the most bitterly mocked + by those who flatter them while they pretend to hate flatterers. You boast + of your honesty and your exemplary conduct; but the God who sees through + your hearts would be wroth with Him that made you, were He not the same + that had also created the monsters of the Nile. Away with him out of my + sight! + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. That such a miscreant should be so proud! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. That's not all. Now I will speak proudly. Go and tell the right + worshipful justices—who set men's lives upon the cast of a die— + I am not one of those thieves who conspire with sleep and midnight, and + play the hero and the lordling on a scaling-ladder. What I have done I + shall no doubt hereafter be doomed to read in the register of heaven; but + with his miserable ministers of earth I will waste no more words. Tell + your masters that my trade is retribution—vengeance my occupation! + (He turns his back upon him.) + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. Then you despise mercy and forbearance?—-Be it so, I + have done with you. (Turning to the troop.) Now then, sirs, you shall hear + what the high powers direct me to make known to you!—If you will + instantly deliver up to me this condemned malefactor, bound hand and foot, + you shall receive a full pardon—your enormities shall be entirely + blotted out, even from memory. The holy church will receive you, like lost + sheep, with renewed love, into her maternal bosom, and the road to + honorable employment shall be open to you all. (With a triumphant smile.) + Now sir! how does your majesty relish this? Come on! bind him! and you are + free! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Do you hear that? Do you hear it? What startles you? Why do you + hesitate? They offer you freedom—you that are already their + prisoners. They grant you your lives, and that is no idle pretence, for it + is clear you are already condemned felons. They promise you honor and + emolument; and, on the other hand, what can you hope for, even should you + be victorious to-day, but disgrace, and curses, and persecution? They + ensure you the pardon of Heaven; you that are actually damned. There is + not a single hair on any of you that is not already bespoke in hell. Do + you still hesitate? are you staggered? Is it so difficult, then, to choose + between heaven and hell?—Do put in a word, father! + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. (aside.) Is the fellow crazy? (Aloud.) Perhaps you are afraid + that this is a trap to catch you alive?—Read it yourselves! Here—is + the general pardon fully signed. (He hands a paper to SCHWEITZER.) Can you + still doubt? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Only see! only see! What more can you require? Signed with their + own hands! It is mercy beyond all bounds! Or are you afraid of their + breaking their word, because you have heard it said that no faith need be + kept with traitors? Dismiss that fear! Policy alone would constrain them + to keep their word, even though it should merely have been pledged to old + Nick. Who hereafter would believe them? How could they trade with it a + second time? I would take my oath upon it that they mean it sincerely. + They know that I am the man who has goaded you on and incited you; they + believe you innocent. They look upon your crimes as so many juvenile + errors—exuberances of rashness. It is I alone they want. I must pay + the penalty. Is it not so, father? + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. What devil incarnate is it that speaks out of him? Of course + it is so—of course. The fellow turns my brain. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What! no answer yet? Do you think it possible to cut your way + through yon phalanx? Only look round you! just look round! You surely do + not reckon upon that; that were indeed a childish conceit—Or do you + flatter yourselves that you will fall like heroes, because you saw that I + rejoiced in the prospect of the fight? Oh, do not console yourself with + the thought! You are not MOOR. You are miserable thieves! wretched tools + of my great designs! despicable as the rope in the hand of the hangman! + No! no! Thieves do not fall like heroes. Life must be the hope of thieves, + for something fearful has to follow. Thieves may well be allowed to quake + at the fear of death. Hark! Do you hear their horns echoing through the + forest? See there! how their glittering sabres threaten! What! are you + still irresolute? are you mad? are you insane? It is unpardonable. Do you + imagine I shall thank you for my life? I disdain your sacrifice! + </p> + <p> + FATHER DOM. (in utter amazement). I shall go mad! I must be gone! Was the + like ever heard of? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Or are you afraid that I shall stab myself, and so by suicide put + an end to the bargain, which only holds good if I am given up alive? No, + comrades! that is a vain fear. Here, I fling away my dagger, and my + pistols, and this phial of poison, which might have been a treasure to me. + I am so wretched that I have lost the power even over my own life. What! + still in suspense? Or do you think, perhaps, that I shall stand on my + defence when you try to seize me? See here! I bind my right hand to this + oak-branch; now I am quite defenceless, a child may overpower me. Who is + the first to desert his captain in the hour of need? + </p> + <p> + ROLLER (with wild energy). And what though hell encircle us with ninefold + coils! (Brandishing his sword.) Who is the coward that will betray his + captain? + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (tears the pardon and flings the pieces into FATHER DOMINIC'S + face). Pardon be in our bullets! Away with thee, rascal! Tell your senate + that you could not find a single traitor in all Moor's camp. Huzza! Huzza! + Save the captain! + </p> + <p> + ALL (shouting). Huzza! Save the captain! Save him! Save our noble captain! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (releasing his hand from the tree, joyfully). Now we are free, + comrades! I feel a host in this single arm! Death or liberty! At the least + they shall not take a man of us alive! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [They sound the signal for attack; noise and tumult. + Exeunt with drawn swords.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT III. + </h2> + <h3> + SCENE I.—AMELIA in the garden, playing the guitar. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Bright as an angel from Walhalla's hall, + More beautiful than aught of earth was he! + Heaven-mild his look, as sunbeams when they fall, + Reflected from a calm cerulean sea. + + His warm embrace—oh, ravishing delight! + With heart to heart the fiery pulses danced— + Our every sense wrap'd in ecstatic night— + Our souls in blissful harmony entranced. + + His kisses—oh, what paradise of feeling! + E'en as two flames which round each other twine— + Or flood of seraph harp-tones gently stealing + In one soft swell, away to realms divine! + + They rushed, commingled, melted, soul in soul! + Lips glued to lips, with burning tremor bound! + Cold earth dissolved, and love without control + Absorbed all sense of worldly things around! + + He's gone!—forever gone! Alas! in vain + My bleeding heart in bitter anguish sighs; + To me is left alone this world of pain, + And mortal life in hopeless sorrow dies. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter FRANCIS. +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS. Here again already, perverse enthusiast? You stole away from the + festive banquet, and marred the mirthful pleasures of my guests. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. 'Tis pity, truly, to mar such innocent pleasures! Shame on them! + The funeral knell that tolled over your father's grave must still be + ringing in your ears— + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Wilt thou sorrow, then, forever? Let the dead sleep in peace, and + do thou make the living happy! I come— + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. And when do you go again? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Alas! Look not on me thus sorrowfully! You wound me, Amelia. I + come to tell you— + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. To tell me, I suppose, that Francis von Moor has become lord and + master here. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Precisely so; that is the very subject on which I wish to + communicate with you. Maximilian von Moor is gone to the tomb of his + ancestors. I am master. But I wish—to be so in the fullest sense, + Amelia. You know what you have been to our house always regarded as Moor's + daughter, his love for you will survive even death itself; that, + assuredly, you will never forget? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Never, never! Who could be so unfeeling as to drown the memory of + it in festive banqueting? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. It is your duty to repay the love of the father to his sons; and + Charles is dead. Ha! you are struck with amazement; dizzy with the + thought! To be sure 'tis a flattering and an elating prospect which may + well overpower the pride of a woman. Francis tramples under foot the hopes + of the noblest and the richest, and offers his heart, his hand, and with + them all his gold, his castles, and his forests to a poor, and, but for + him, destitute orphan. Francis—the feared—voluntarily declares + himself Amelia's slave! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Why does not a thunderbolt cleave the impious tongue which utters + the criminal proposal! Thou hast murdered my beloved Charles; and shall + Amelia, his betrothed, call thee husband? Thou? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Be not so violent, most gracious princess! It is true that + Francis does not come before you like a whining Celadon—'tis true he + has not learned, like a lovesick swain of Arcadia, to sigh forth his + amorous plaints to the echo of caves and rocks. Francis speaks—and, + when not answered, commands! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Commands? thou reptile! Command me? And what if I laughed your + command to scorn? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. That you will hardly do. There are means, too, which I know of, + admirably adapted to humble the pride of a capricious, stubborn girl—cloisters + and walls! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Excellent! delightful! to be forever secure within cloisters and + walls from thy basilisk look, and to have abundant leisure to think and + dream of Charles. Welcome with your cloister! welcome your walls! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Ha! Is that it? Beware! Now you have taught me the art of + tormenting you. The sight of me shall, like a fiery-haired fury, drive out + of your head these eternal phantasies of Charles. Francis shall be the + dread phantom ever lurking behind the image of your beloved, like the + fiend-dog that guards the subterranean treasure. I will drag you to church + by the hair, and sword in hand wring the nuptial vow from your soul. By + main force will I ascend your virginal couch, and storm your haughty + modesty with still greater haughtiness. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (gives him a slap in the face). Then take that first by way of + dowry! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Ha! I will be tenfold, and twice tenfold revenged for this! My + wife! No, that honor you shall never enjoy. You shall be my mistress, my + strumpet! The honest peasant's wife shall point her finger at you as she + passes you in the street. Ay, gnash your teeth as fiercely as you please—scatter + fire and destruction from your eyes— the fury of a woman piques my + fancy—it makes you more beautiful, more tempting. Come, this + resistance will garnish my triumph, and your struggles give zest to my + embraces. Come, come to my chamber—I burn with desire. Come this + instant. (Attempts to drag her away). + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (falls on his neck). Forgive me, Francis! (As he is about to clasp + her in his arms, she suddenly draws the sword at his side, and hastily + disengages herself). Do you see now, miscreant, how I am able to deal with + you? I am only a woman, but a woman enraged. Dare to approach, and this + steel shall strike your lascivious heart to the core —the spirit of + my uncle will guide my hand. Avaunt, this instant! (She drives him away). + </p> + <p> + Ah! how different I feel! Now I breathe again—I feel strong as the + snorting steed, ferocious as the tigress when she springs upon the + ruthless destroyer of her cubs. To a cloister, did he say? I thank thee + for the happy thought! Now has disappointed love found a place of refuge—the + cloister—the Redeemer's bosom is the sanctuary of disappointed love. + (She is on the point going). + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +</pre> + <p> + In the acting edition the following scene occurs between Herman and + Francis, immediately before that with Amelia. As Schiller himself thought + this among the happiest of his additions, and regretted that it was + "entirely and very unfortunately overlooked in the first edition," it + seems desirable to introduce it here as well as the soliloquy immediately + following, which has acquired some celebrity. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VIII. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter HERMANN. +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS. Ha! Welcome, my Euryalus! My prompt and trusty instrument! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (abruptly and peevishly). You sent for me, count—why? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. That you might put the seal to your master-piece. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (gruffly). Indeed? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Give the picture its finishing touch. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Poh! Poh! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (startled). Shall I call the carriage? We'll arrange the business + during the drive? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (scornfully). No ceremony, sir, if you please. For any business we + may have to arrange there is room enough between these four walls. At all + events I'll just say a few words to you by way of preface, which may save + your lungs some unnecessary exertion. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (reservedly). Hum! And what may those words be? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (with bitter irony). "You shall have Amelia—and that from my + hand—" + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (with astonishment). Hermann! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (as before, with his back turned on FRANCIS). "Amelia will become + the plaything of my will—and you may easily guess the rest-in short + all will go as we wish" (Breaks into an indignant laugh, and then turns + haughtily to FRANCIS.) Now, Count von Moor, what have you to say to me? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (evasively). To thee? Nothing. I had something to say to Hermann.— + </p> + <p> + HERMANN, No evasion. Why was I sent for hither? Was it to be your dupe a + second time! and to hold the ladder for a thief to mount? to sell my soul + for a hangman s fee? What else did you want with me? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (as if recollecting). Ha! It just occurs to me! We must not forget + the main point. Did not my steward mention it to you? I wanted to talk to + you about the dowry. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. This is mere mockery sir; or, if not mockery, something worse. + Moor, take care of yourself-beware how you kindle my fury, Moor. We are + alone! And I have still an unsullied name to stake against yours! Trust + not the devil, although he be of your own raising. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (with dignity). Does this deportment become thee towards thy + sovereign and gracious master? Tremble, slave! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (ironically). For fear of your displeasure, I suppose? What + signifies your displeasure to a man who is at war with himself? Fie, Moor. + I already abhor you as a villain; let me not despise you for a fool. I can + open graves, and restore the dead to life! Which of us now is the slave? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (in a conciliating tone). Come, my good friend, be discreet, and + do not prove faithless. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Pshaw! To expose a wretch like you is here the best discretion—to + keep faith with you would be an utter want of sense. Faith? with whom? + Faith with the prince of liars? Oh, I shudder at the thought of such + faith. A very little timely faithlessness would have almost made a saint + of me. But patience! patience! Revenge is cunning in resources. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Ah, by-the-by, I just remember. You lately lost a purse with a + hundred louis in it, in this apartment. I had almost forgotten it. Here, + my good friend! take back what belongs to you. (Offers him a purse). + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (throws it scornfully at his feet). A curse on your Judas bribe! + It is the earnest-money of hell. You once before thought to make my + poverty a pander to my conscience—but you were mistaken, count! + egregiously mistaken. That purse of gold came most opportunely—to + maintain certain persons. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (terrified). Hermann! Hermann! Let me not suspect certain things + of you. Should you have done anything contrary to my instructions—you + would be the vilest of traitors! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (exultingly). Should I? Should I really? Well then count, let me + give you a little piece of information! (Significantly.) I will fatten up + your infamy, and add fuel to your doom. The book of your misdeeds shall + one day be served up as a banquet, and all the world be invited to partake + of it. (Contemptuously.) Do you understand me now, my most sovereign, + gracious, and excellent master? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (starts up, losing all command of himself). Ha! Devil! Deceitful + impostor! (Striking his forehead.) To think that I should stake my fortune + on the caprice of an idiot! That was madness! (Throws himself, in great + excitement, on a couch.) + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (whistles through his fingers). Wheugh! the biter bit!— + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (biting his lip). But it is true, and ever will be true—that + there is no thread so feebly spun, or which snaps asunder so readily, as + that which weaves the bands of guilt!— + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Gently! Gently! Are angels, then, superseded, that devils turn + moralists? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (starts up abruptly; to HERMANN with a malignant laugh). And + certain persons will no doubt acquire much honor by making the discovery? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (clapping his hands). Masterly! Inimitable! You play your part to + admiration! First you lure the credulous fool into the slough, and then + chuckle at the success of your malice, and cry "Woe be to you sinner!" + (Laughing and clenching his teeth.) Oh, how cleverly these imps off the + devil manoeuvre. But, count (clapping him on the shoulder) you have not + yet got your lesson quite perfect—by Heavens! You first learn what + the losing gamester will hazard. Set fire to the powder-magazine, says the + pirate, and blow all to hell—both friend and foe! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (runs to the wall, and takes down a pistol). Here is treason! I + must be resolute— + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (draws a pistol as quickly from his pocket, and presents it at + him). Don't trouble yourself—one must be prepared for everything + with you. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (lets the pistol fall, and throws himself on the sofa in great + confusion). Only keep my council till—till I have collected my + thoughts. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +HERMANN. I suppose till you have hired a dozen assassins to silence my +tongue forever! Is it not so! But (in his ear) the secret is committed +to paper, which my heirs will publish. + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IX. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + FRANCIS, solus. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Francis! Francis! Francis! What is all this? Where was thy courage? +where thy once so fertile wit? Woe! Woe! And to be betrayed by thy +own instruments! The pillars of my good fortune are tottering to their +fall, the fences are broken down, and the raging enemy is already +bursting in upon me. Well! this calls for some bold and sudden resolve! +What if I went in person—and secretly plunged this sword in his body? +A wounded man is but a child. Quick! I'll do it. (He walks with a +resolute step to the end of the stage, but stops suddenly as if overcome +by sensations of horror). Who are these gliding behind me? (Rolling +his eyes fearfully) Faces such as I have never yet beheld. What +hideous yells do I hear! I feel that I have courage—courage! oh yes to +overflowing! But if a mirror should betray me? or my shadow! or the +whistling of the murderous stroke! Ugh! Ugh! How my hair bristles! A +shudder creeps through my frame. (He lets a poigniard fall from under +his clothes.) I am no coward—perhaps somewhat too tenderhearted. Yes! +that is it! These are the last struggles of expiring virtue. I revere +them. I should indeed be a monster were I to become the murderer of my +own brother. No! no! no! That thought be far from me! Let me cherish +this vestige of humanity. I will not murder. Nature, thou hast +conquered. I still feel something here that seems like—affection. He +shall live. + [Exit.] + + Enter HERMANN, timidly. +</pre> + <p> + HERMANN. Lady Amelia! Lady Amelia! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Unhappy man! why dost thou disturb me? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. I must throw this weight from my soul before it drags it down to + hell. (Falls down before her.) Pardon! pardon! I have grievously injured + you, Lady Amelia! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Arise! depart! I will hear nothing. (Going.) + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (detaining her). No; stay! In the name of Heaven! In the name of + the Eternal! You must know all! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Not another word. I forgive you. Depart in peace. (In the act of + going.) + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Only one word—listen; it will restore all your peace of + mind. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (turning back and looking at him with astonishment). How, friend? + Who in heaven or on earth can restore my peace of mind? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. One word from my lips can do it. Hear me! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (seizing his hand with compassion). Good sir! Can one word from thy + lips burst asunder the portals of eternity? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. (rising). Charles lives! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (screaming). Wretch! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Even so. And one word more. Your uncle— + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. (rushing upon him). Thou liest! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Your uncle— + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Charles lives? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. And your uncle— + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Charles lives? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. And your uncle too—betray me not! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (HERMANN runs off) +</pre> + <p> + AMELIA (stands a long while like one petrified; after which she starts up + wildly, and rushes after HERMANN.) Charles lives! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II.—Country near the Danube. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THE ROBBERS (encamped on a rising ground, under trees, + their horses are grazing below.) +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. Here must I lie (throwing himself upon the ground). I feel as if + my limbs were all shattered. My tongue is as dry as a potsherd (SCHWEITZER + disappears unperceived.) I would ask one of you to bring me a handful of + water from that stream, but you are all tired to death. + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Our wine-flasks too are all empty. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. See how beautiful the harvest looks! The trees are breaking with + the weight of their fruit. The vines are full of promise. + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. It is a fruitful year. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Do you think so? Then at least one toil in the world will be + repaid. One? Yet in the night a hailstorm may come and destroy it all. + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. That is very possible. It all may be destroyed an hour before the + reaping. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Just what I say. All will be destroyed. Why should man prosper in + that which he has in common with the ant, while he fails in that which + places him on a level with the gods. Or is this the aim and limit of his + destiny? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. I know not. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Thou hast said well; and wilt have done better, if thou never + seekest to know. Brother, I have looked on men, their insect cares and + their giant projects,—their god-like plans and mouse-like + occupations, their intensely eager race after happiness—one trusting + to the fleetness of his horse,—another to the nose of his ass,—a + third to his own legs; this checkered lottery of life, in which so many + stake their innocence and their leaven to snatch a prize, and,—blanks + are all they draw—for they find, too late, that there was no prize + in the wheel. It is a drama, brother, enough to bring tears into your + eyes, while it shakes your sides with laughter. + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. How gloriously the sun is setting yonder! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (absorbed in the scene). So dies a hero! Worthy of adoration! + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. You seem deeply moved. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. When I, was but a boy—it was my darling thought to live + like him, like him to die—(with suppressed grief.) It was a boyish + thought! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. It was, indeed. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. There was a time—(pressing his hat down upon his face). I + would be alone, comrades. + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Moor! Moor! Why, what the deuce! How his color changes. + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. By all the devils! What ails him? Is he ill? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. There was a time when I could not have slept had I forgotten my + evening prayers. + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Are you beside yourself? Would you let the remembrances of your + boyish years school you now? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (lays his head upon the breast of GRIMM). Brother! Brother! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Come! Don't play the child—I pray you + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Oh that I were-that I were again a child! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Fie! fie! + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Cheer up! Behold this smiling landscape—this delicious + evening! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Yes, friends, this world is very lovely— + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Come, now, that was well said. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. This earth so glorious!— + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Right—right—I love to hear you talk thus. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. (sinking back). And I so hideous in' this lovely world— a + monster on this glorious earth! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Oh dear! oh dear! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. My innocence! give me back my innocence! Behold, every living + thing is gone forth to bask in the cheering rays of the vernal sun—why + must I alone inhale the torments of hell out of the joys of heaven? All + are so happy, all so united in brotherly love, by the spirit of peace! The + whole world one family, and one Father above—but He not my father! I + alone the outcast, I alone rejected from the ranks of the blessed—the + sweet name of child is not for me—never for me the soul-thrilling + glance of her I love—never, never the bosom friend's embrace—(starting + back wildly)—surrounded by murderers—hemmed in by hissing + vipers— riveted to vice with iron fetters—whirling headlong on + the frail reed of sin to the gulf of perdition—amid the blooming + flowers of a glad world, a howling Abaddon! + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ (to the others). How strange! I never saw him thus before. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (with melancholy). Oh, that I might return again to my mother's + womb. That I might be born a beggar! I should desire no more,—no + more, oh heaven!—but that I might be like one of those poor + laborers! Oh, I would toil till the blood streamed down my temples—to + buy myself the luxury of one guiltless slumber—the blessedness of a + single tear. + </p> + <p> + GRIMM (to the others). A little patience—the paroxysm is nearly + over. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. There was a time when my tears flowed so freely. Oh, those days + of peace! Dear home of my fathers—ye verdant halcyon vales! O all ye + Elysian scenes of my childhood!—will you never return?—will + your delicious breezes never cool my burning bosom? Mourn with me, Nature, + mourn! They will never return! never will their delicious breezes cool my + burning bosom! They are gone! gone! irrevocably gone! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter SCHWEITZER with water in his hat. +</pre> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (offering him water in his hat). Drink, captain; here is plenty + of water, and cold as ice. + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. You are bleeding! What have you been doing? + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. A bit of a freak, you fool, which had well-nigh cost me two + legs and a neck. As I was frolicking along the steep sandbanks of the + river, plump, in a moment, the whole concern slid from under me, and I + after it, some ten fathoms deep;—there I lay, and, as I was + recovering my five senses, lo and behold, the most sparkling water in the + gravel! Not so much amiss this time, said I to myself, for the caper I + have cut. The captain will be sure to relish a drink. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (returns him the hat and wipes his face). But you are covered with + mud, Schweitzer, and we can't see the scar which the Bohemian horseman + marked on your forehead—your water was good, Schweitzer—and + those scars become you well. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Bah! There's room for a score or two more yet. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Yes, boys—it was a hot day's work—and only one man + lost. Poor Roller! he died a noble death. A marble monument would be + erected to his memory had he died in any other cause than mine. Let this + suffice. (He wipes the tears from his eyes.) How many, did you say, of the + enemy were left on the field? + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. A hundred and sixty huzzars, ninety-three dragoons, some forty + chasseurs—in all about three hundred. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Three hundred for one! Every one of you has a claim upon this + head. (He bares his head.) By this uplifted dagger! As my Soul liveth, I + will never forsake you! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Swear not! You do not know but you may yet be happy, and + repent your oath. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. By the ashes of my Roller! I will never forsake you. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter KOSINSKY. +</pre> + <p> + KOSINSKY (aside). Hereabouts, they say, I shall find him. Ha! What faces + are these? Should they be—if these—they must be the men! Yes, + 'tis they,'tis they! I will accost them. + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Take heed! Who goes there? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Pardon, sirs. I know not whether I am going right or wrong. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Suppose right, whom do you take us to be? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Men! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. I wonder, captain, whether we have given any proof of that? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. I am in search of men who can look death in the face, and let + danger play around then like a tamed snake; who prize liberty above life + or honor; whose very names, hailed by the poor and the oppressed, appal + the boldest, and make tyrants tremble. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (to the Captain). I like that fellow. Hark ye, friend! You have + found your men. + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. So I should think, and I hope soon to find them brothers. You + can direct me to the man I am looking for. 'Tis your captain, the great + Count von Moor. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (taking him warmly by the hand). There's a good lad. You and I + must be chums. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (coming nearer). Do you know the captain? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Thou art he!—in those features—that air—who + can look at thee, and doubt it? (Looks earnestly at him for some time). I + have always wished to see the man with the annihilating look, as he sat on + the ruins of Carthage.* That wish is realized. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[Alluding to Caius Marius. See Plutarch's Lives.] +</pre> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. A mettlesome fellow!— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. And what brings you to me? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Oh, captain! my more than cruel fate. I have suffered + shipwrecked on the stormy ocean of the world; I have seen all my fondest + hopes perish; and nought remains to me but a remembrance of the bitter + past, which would drive me to madness, were I not to drown it by directing + my energies to new objects. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Another arraignment of the ways of Providence! Proceed. + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. I became a soldier. Misfortune still followed me in the army. I + made a venture to the Indies, and my ship was shivered on the rocks—nothing + but frustrated hopes! At last, I heard tell far and wide of your valiant + deeds, incendiarisms, as they called them, and I came straightway hither, + a distance of thirty leagues, firmly resolved to serve under you, if you + will deign to accept my services. I entreat thee, noble captain, refuse me + not! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (with a leap into the air). Hurrah! Hurrah! Our Roller replaced + ten hundred-fold! An out-and-out brother cut-throat for our troop. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What is your name? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Kosinsky. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What? Kosinsky! And do you know that you are but a thoughtless + boy, and are embarking on the most weighty passage of your life as + heedlessly as a giddy girl? You will find no playing at bowls or ninepins + here, as you probably imagine. + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. I understand you, sir. I am,'tis true, but four-and-twenty years + old, but I have seen swords glittering, and have heard balls whistling + around me. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Indeed, young gentleman? And was it for this that you took + fencing lessons, to run poor travellers through the body for the sake of a + dollar, or stab women in the back? Go! go! You have played truant to your + nurse because she shook the rod at you. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Why, what the devil, captain! what are you about? Do you mean + to turn away such a Hercules? Does he not look as if he could baste + Marechal Saxe across the Ganges with a ladle? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Because your silly schemes miscarry, you come here to turn rogue + and assassin! Murder, boy, do you know the meaning of that word? You may + have slumbered in peace after cropping a few poppy-heads, but to have a + murder on your soul— + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. All the murders you bid me commit be upon my head! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What! Are you so nimble-witted? Do you take measure of a man to + catch him by flattery? How do you know that I am not haunted by terrific + dreams, or that I shall not tremble on my death-bed?—How much have + you already done of which you have considered the responsibility? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Very little, I must confess; excepting this long journey to you, + noble count— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Has your tutor let the story of Robin Hood—get into your + hands? Such careless rascals ought to be sent to the galleys. And has it + heated your childish fancy, and infected you with the mania of becoming a + hero? Are you thirsting for honor and fame? Would you buy immortality by + deeds of incendiarism? Mark me, ambitious youth! No laurel blooms for the + incendiary. No triumph awaits the victories of the bandit—nothing + but curses, danger, death, disgrace. Do you see the gibbet yonder on the + hill? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL (going up and down indignantly). Oh, how stupid! How abominably, + unpardonably stupid! That's not the way. I went to work in a very + different manner. + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. What should he fear, who fears not death? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Bravo! Capital! You have made good use of your time at school; + you have got your Seneca cleverly by heart. But, my good friend, you will + not be able with these fine phrases to cajole nature in the hour of + suffering; they will never blunt the biting tooth of remorse. Ponder on it + well, my son! (Takes him by the hand.) I advise you as a father. First + learn the depth of the abyss before you plunge headlong into it. If in + this world you can catch a single glimpse of happiness—moments may + come when you-awake,—and then—it may be too late. Here you + step out as it were beyond the pale of humanity—you must either be + more than human or a demon. Once more, my son! if but a single spark of + hope glimmer for you elsewhere, fly this fearful compact, where nought but + despair enters, unless a higher wisdom has so ordained it. You may deceive + yourself—believe me, it is possible to mistake that for strength of + mind which in reality is nothing more than despair. Take my counsel! mine! + and depart quickly. + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. No! I will not stir. If my entreaties fail to move you, hear but + the story of my misfortunes. And then you will force the dagger into my + hand as eagerly as you now seek to withhold it. Seat yourselves awhile on + the grass and listen. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. I will hear your story. + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Know, then, that I am a Bohemian nobleman. By the early death of + my father I became master of large possessions. The scene of my domain was + a paradise; for it contained an angel—a maid adorned with all the + charms of blooming youth, and chaste as the light of heaven. But to whom + do I talk of this? It falls unheeded on your cars—ye never loved, ye + were never beloved— + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Gently, gently! The captain grows red as fire. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. No more! I'll hear you some other time—to-morrow,—or + by-and-by, or—after I have seen blood. + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Blood, blood! Only hear on! Blood will fill your whole soul. She + was of citizen birth, a German—but her look dissolved all the + prejudices of aristocracy. With blushing modesty she received the bridal + ring from my hand, and on the morrow I was to have led my AMELIA to the + altar. (CHARLES rises suddenly.) In the midst of my intoxicating dream of + happiness, and while our nuptials were preparing, an express summoned me + to court. I obeyed the summons. Letters were shown me which I was said to + have written, full of treasonable matter. I grew scarlet with indignation + at such malice; they deprived me of my sword, thrust me into prison, and + all my senses forsook me. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. And in the meantime—go on! I already scent the game. + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. There I lay a whole month, and knew not what was taking place. I + was full of anxiety for my Amelia, who I was sure would suffer the pangs + of death every moment in apprehension of my fate. At last the prime + minister makes his appearance,—congratulates me in honey-sweet words + on the establishment of my innocence,—reads to me a warrant of + discharge,—and returns me my sword. I flew in triumph to my castle, + to the arms of my Amelia, but she had disappeared! She had been carried + off, it was said, at midnight, no one knew whither, and no eye had beheld + her since. A suspicion instantly flashed across my mind. I rushed to the + capital—I made inquiries at court—all eyes were upon me,—no + one would give me information. At last I discovered her through a grated + window of the palace—she threw me a small billet. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Did I not say so? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Death and destruction! The contents were these! They had given + her the choice between seeing me put to death, and becoming the mistress + of the prince. In the struggle between honor and love she chose the + latter, and (with a bitter smile) I was saved. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. And what did you do then? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Then I stood like one transfixed with a thunderbolt! Blood was + my first thought, blood my last! Foaming at the mouth, I ran to my + quarters, armed myself with a two-edged sword, and, with all haste, rushed + to the minister's house, for he—he alone—had been the fiendish + pander. They must have observed me in the street, for, as I went up, I + found all the doors fastened. I searched, I enquired. He was gone, they + said, to the prince. I went straight thither, but nobody there would know + anything about him. I return, force the doors, find the base wretch, and + was on the point when five or six servants suddenly rushed on me from + behind, and wrenched the weapon from my hands. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (stamping the ground). And so the fellow got off clear, and you + lost your labor? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. I was arrested, accused, criminally prosecuted, degraded, and—mark + this—transported beyond the frontier, as a special favor. My estates + were confiscated to the minister, and Amelia remained in the clutches of + the tiger, where she weeps and mourns away her life, while my vengeance + must keep a fast, and crouch submissively to the yoke of despotism. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (rising and whetting his sword). That is grist to our mill, + captain! There is something here for the incendiaries! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (who has been walking up and down in violent agitation, with a + sudden start to the ROBBERS). I must see her. Up! collect your baggage—you'll + stay with us, Kosinsky! Quick, pack up! + </p> + <p> + THE ROBBERS. Where to? What? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Where to? Who asks that question? (Fiercely to SCHWEITZER) + Traitor, wouldst thou keep me back? But by the hope for heaven! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. I, a traitor? Lead on to hell and I will follow you! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +CHARLES (falling on his neck). Dear brother! thou shalt follow me. She +weeps, she mourns away her life. Up! quickly! all of you! to +Franconia! In a week we must be there. + [Exeunt.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT IV. + </h2> + <p> + SCENE I.—Rural scenery in the neighborhood of CHARLES VON MOOR'S + castle. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + CHARLES VON MOOR, KOSINSKY, at a distance. +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. Go forward, and announce me. You remember what you have to say? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +KOSINSKY. You are Count Brand, you come from Mecklenburg. I am your +groom. Do not fear, I shall take care to play my part. Farewell! + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. Hail to thee, Earth of my Fatherland (kisses the earth.) Heaven + of my Fatherland! Sun of my Fatherland! Ye meadows and hills, ye streams + and woods! Hail, hail to ye all! How deliciously the breezes are wafted + from my native hills? What streams of balmy perfume greet the poor + fugitive! Elysium! Realms of poetry! Stay, Moor, thy foot has strayed into + a holy temple. (Comes nearer.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +See there! the old swallow-nests in the castle yard!—-and the little +garden-gate!—and this corner of the fence where I so often watched in +ambuscade to teaze old Towzer!—and down there in the green valley, +where, as the great Alexander, I led my Macedonians to the battle of +Arbela; and the grassy hillock yonder, from which I hurled the Persian +satrap—and then waved on high my victorious banner! (He smiles.) The +golden age of boyhood lives again in the soul of the outcast. I was +then so happy, so wholly, so cloudlessly happy—and now—behold all my +prospects a wreck! Here should I have presided, a great, a noble, an +honored man—here have—lived over again the years of boyhood in the +blooming—children of my Amelia—here!—here have been the idol of my +people—but the foul fiend opposed it (Starting.) Why am I here? To +feel like the captive when the clanking of his chains awakes him from +his dream of liberty. No, let me return to my wretchedness! The +captive had forgotten the light of day, but the dream of liberty flashes +past his eyes like a blaze of lightning in the night, which leaves it +darker than before. Farewell, ye native vales! once ye saw Charles as a +boy, and then Charles was happy. Now ye have seen the man his happiness +turned to despair! (He moves rapidly towards the most distant point of +the landscape, where he suddenly stops and casts a melancholy look +across to the castle.) Not to behold her! not even one look?—and only +a wall between me and Amelia! No! see her I must!—and him too!—though +it crush me! (He turns back.) Father! father! thy son approaches. Away +with thee, black, reeking gore! Away with that grim, ghastly look of +death! Oh, give me but this one hour free! Amelia! Father! thy +Charles approaches! (He goes quickly towards the castle.) Torment me +when the morning dawns—give me no rest with the coming night—beset me +in frightful dreams! But, oh! poison not this my only hour of bliss! +(He is standing at the gate.) What is it I feel? What means this, Moor? +Be a man! These death-like shudders—foreboding terrors. + [Enters.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II.*—Gallery in the Castle. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[In some editions this is the third scene, + and there is no second.] + + Enter CHARLES VON MOOR, AMELIA. +</pre> + <p> + AMELIA. And are you sure that you should know his portrait among these + pictures? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Oh, most certainly! his image has always been fresh in my memory. + (Passing along thee pictures.) This is not it. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. You are right! He was the first count, and received his patent of + nobility from Frederic Barbarossa, to whom he rendered some service + against the corsairs. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (still reviewing the pictures). Neither is it this—nor this— + nor that—it is not among these at all. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Nay! look more attentively! I thought you knew him. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. As well as my own father! This picture wants the sweet expression + around the mouth, which distinguished him from among a thousand. It is not + he. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. You surprise me. What! not seen him for eighteen years, and still— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (quickly, with a hectic blush). Yes, this is he! (He stands as if + struck by lightning.) + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. An excellent man! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (absorbed in the contemplation of the picture). Father! father! + forgive me! Yes, an excellent man! (He wipes his eyes.) A godlike man! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. You seem to take a deep interest in him. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Oh, an excellent man! And he is gone, you say! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Gone! as our best joys perish. (Gently taking him by the hand.) + Dear Sir, no happiness ripens in this world. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Most true, most true! And have you already proved this truth by + sad experience? You, who can scarcely yet have seen your twenty-third + year? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Yes, alas, I have proved it. Whatever lives, lives to die in + sorrow. We engage our hearts, and grasp after the things of this world, + only to undergo the pang of losing them. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What can you have lost, and yet so young? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Nothing—everything—nothing. Shall we go on, count?* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[In the acting edition is added— + "MOOR. And would you learn forgetfulness in that holy garb there? + (Pointing to a nun's habit.) + "AMELIA. To-morrow I hope to do so. Shall we continue our walk, + sir?"] +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. In such haste? Whose portrait is that on the right? There is an + unhappy look about that countenance, methinks. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. That portrait on the left is the son of the count, the present + count. Come, let us pass on! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. But this portrait on the right? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Will you not continue your walk, Sir? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. But this portrait on the right hand? You are in tears, Amelia? + [Exit AMELIA, in precipitation.] + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +CHARLES. She loves me, she loves me! Her whole being began to rebel, +and the traitor tears rolled down her cheeks. She loves me! Wretch, +hast thou deserved this at her hands? Stand I not here like a condemned +criminal before the fatal block? Is this the couch on which we so often +sat—where I have hung in rapture on her neck? Are these my ancestral +halls? (Overcome by the sight of his father's portrait.) Thou—thou— +Flames of fire darting from thine eyes—His curse—His curse—He disowns +me—Where am I? My sight grows dim—Horrors of the living God—'Twas I, +'twas I that killed my father! + [He rushes off] + + Enter FRANCIS VON MOOR, in deep thought. +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS. Away with that image! Away with it! Craven heart! Why dost thou + tremble, and before whom? Have I not felt, during the few hours that the + count has been within these walls as if a spy from hell were gliding at my + heels. Methinks I should know him! There is something so lofty, so + familiar, in his wild, sunburnt features, which makes me tremble. Amelia, + too, is not indifferent towards him! Does she not dart eager, languishing + looks at the fellow looks of which she is so chary to all the world + beside? Did I not see her drop those stealthy tears into the wine, which, + behind my back, he quaffed so eagerly that he seemed to swallow the very + glass? Yes, I saw it—I saw it in the mirror with my own eyes. Take + care, Francis! Look about you! Some destruction-brooding monster is + lurking beneath all this! (He stops, with a searching look, before the + portrait of CHARLES.) + </p> + <p> + His long, crane-like neck—his black, fire-sparkling eyes—hem! + hem!— his dark, overhanging, bushy eyebrows. (Suddenly starting + back.) Malicious hell! dost thou send me this suspicion? It is Charles! + Yes, all his features are reviving before me. It is he! despite his mask! + it is he! Death and damnation! (Goes up and down with agitated steps.) Is + it for this that I have sacrificed my nights—that I have mowed down + mountains and filled up chasms? For this that I have turned rebel against + all the instincts of humanity? To have this vagabond outcast blunder in at + last, and destroy all my cunningly devised fabric. But gently! gently! + What remains to be done is but child's play. Have I not already waded up + to my very ears in mortal sin? Seeing how far the shore lies behind me, it + would be madness to attempt to swim back. To return is now out of the + question. Grace itself would be beggared, and infinite mercy become + bankrupt, were they to be responsible for all my liabilities. Then onward + like a man. (He rings the bell.) Let him be gathered to the spirit of his + father, and now come on! For the dead I care not! Daniel! Ho! Daniel! I'd + wager a trifle they have already inveigled him too into the plot against + me! He looks so full of mystery! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter DANIEL. +</pre> + <p> + DANIEL. What is your pleasure, my master? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Nothing. Go, fill this goblet with wine, and quickly! (Exit + DANIEL.) Wait a little, old man! I shall find you out! I will fix my eye + upon you so keenly that your stricken conscience shall betray itself + through your mask! He shall die! He is but a sorry bungler who leaves his + work half finished, and then looks on idly, trusting to chance for what + may come of it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter DANIEL, with the wine. +</pre> + <p> + Bring it here! Look me steadfastly in the face! How your knees knock + together! How you tremble! Confess, old man! what have you been doing? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Nothing, my honored master, by heaven and my poor soul! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Drink this wine! What? you hesitate? Out with it quickly! What + have you put into the wine? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Heaven help me! What! I in the wine? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. You have poisoned it! Are you not as white as snow? Confess, + confess! Who gave it you? The count? Is it not so? The count gave it you? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. The count? Jesu Maria! The count has not given me anything. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (grasping him tight). I will throttle you till you are black in + the face, you hoary-headed liar! Nothing? Why, then, are you so often + closeted together? He, and you, and Amelia? And what are you always + whispering about? Out with it! What secrets, eh? What secrets has he + confided to you? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. I call the Almighty to witness that he has not confided any + secrets to me. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Do you mean to deny it? What schemes have you been hatching to + get rid of me? Am I to be smothered in my sleep? or is my throat to be cut + in shaving? or am I to be poisoned in wine or chocolate? Eh? Out with it, + out with it! Or am I to have my quietus administered in my soup? Out with + it! I know it all! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. May heaven so help me in the hour of need as I now tell you the + truth, and nothing but the pure, unvarnished truth! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Well, this time I will forgive you. But the money! he most + certainly put money into your purse? And he pressed your hand more warmly + than is customary? something in the manner of an old acquaintance? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Never, indeed, Sir. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. He told you, for instance, that he had known you before? that you + ought to know him? that the scales would some day fall from your eyes? + that—what? Do you mean to say that he never spoke thus to you? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Not a word of the kind. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. That certain circumstances restrained him—that one must + sometimes wear a mask in order to get at one's enemies—that he would + be revenged, most terribly revenged? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Not a syllable of all this. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. What? Nothing at all? Recollect yourself. That he knew the old + count well—most intimately—that he loved him—loved him + exceedingly—loved him like a son! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Something of that sort I remember to have heard him say. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (turning pale). Did he say so? did he really? How? let me hear! He + said he was my brother? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL (astonished). What, my master? He did not say that. But as Lady + Amelia was conducting him through the gallery—I was just dusting the + picture frames—he suddenly stood still before the portrait of my + late master, and seemed thunderstruck. Lady Amelia pointed it out, and + said, "An excellent man!" "Yes, a most excellent man!" he replied, wiping + a tear from his eye. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Hark, Daniel! You know I have ever been a kind master to you; I + have given you food and raiment, and have spared you labor in + consideration of your advanced age. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. For which may heaven reward you! and I, on my part, have always + served you faithfully. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. That is just what I was going to say. You have never in all your + life contradicted me; for you know much too well that you owe me obedience + in all things, whatever I may require of you. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. In all things with all my heart, so it be not against God and my + conscience. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Stuff! nonsense! Are you not ashamed of yourself? An old man, and + believe that Christmas tale! Go, Daniel! that was a stupid remark. You + know that I am your master. It is on me that God and conscience will be + avenged, if, indeed, there be a God and a conscience. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL (clasping his hands together). Merciful Heaven! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. By your obedience! Do you understand that word? By your + obedience, I command you. With to-morrow's dawn the count must no longer + be found among the living. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Merciful Heaven! and wherefore? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. By your blind obedience! I shall rely upon you implicitly. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. On me? May the Blessed Virgin have mercy on me! On me? What evil, + then, have I, an old man, done! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. There is no time now for reflection; your fate is in my hands. + Would you rather pine away the remainder of your days in the deepest of my + dungeons, where hunger shall compel you to gnaw your own bones, and + burning thirst make you suck your own blood? Or would you rather eat your + bread in peace, and have rest in your old age? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. What, my lord! Peace and rest in my old age? And I a murderer? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Answer my question! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. My gray hairs! my gray hairs! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Yes or no! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. No! God have mercy upon me! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (in the act of going). Very well! you shall have need of it. + (DANIEL detains him and falls on his knees before him.) + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Mercy, master! mercy! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Yes or no! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Most gracious master! I am this day seventy-one years of age! and + have honored my father and my mother, and, to the best of my knowledge, + have never in the whole course of my life defrauded any one to the value + of a farthing,—and I have adhered to my creed truly and honestly, + and have served in your house four-and-forty years, and am now calmly + awaiting a quiet, happy end. Oh, master! master! (violently clasping his + knees) and would you deprive me of my only solace in death, that the + gnawing worm of an evil conscience may cheat me of my last prayer? that I + may go to my long home an abomination in the sight of God and man? No, no! + my dearest, best, most excellent, most gracious master! you do not ask + that of an old man turned threescore and ten! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Yes or no! What is the use of all this palaver? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. I will serve you from this day forward more diligently than ever; + I will wear out my old bones in your service like a common day-laborer; I + will rise earlier and lie down later. Oh, and I will remember you in my + prayers night and morning; and God will not reject the prayer of an old + man. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Obedience is better than sacrifice. Did you ever hear of the + hangman standing upon ceremony when he was told to execute a sentence? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. That is very true? but to murder an innocent man—one— + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Am I responsible to you? Is the axe to question the hangman why + he strikes this way and not that? But see how forbearing I am. I offer you + a reward for performing what you owe me in virtue of your allegiance. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. But, when I swore allegiance to you, I at least hoped that I + should be allowed to remain a Christian. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. No contradiction! Look you! I give you the whole day to think + about it! Ponder well on it. Happiness or misery. Do you hear— do + you understand? The extreme of happiness or the extreme of misery! I can + do wonders in the way of torture. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +DANIEL (after some reflection). I'll do it; I will do it to-morrow. + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS. The temptation is strong, and I should think he was not born to + die a martyr to his faith. Have with you, sir count! According to all + ordinary calculations, you will sup to-morrow with old Beelzebub. In these + matters all depends upon one's view of a thing; and he is a fool who takes + any view that is contrary to his own interest. A father quaffs perhaps a + bottle of wine more than ordinary—he is in a certain mood—the + result is a human being, the last thing that was thought of in the affair. + Well, I, too, am in a certain mood,—and the result is that a human + being perishes; and surely there is more of reason and purpose in this + than there was in his production. If the birth of a man is the result of + an animal paroxysm, who should take it into his head to attach any + importance to the negation of his birth? A curse upon the folly of our + nurses and teachers, who fill our imaginations with frightful tales, and + impress fearful images of punishment upon the plastic brain of childhood, + so that involuntary shudders shake the limbs of the man with icy fear, + arrest his boldest resolutions, and chain his awakening reason in the + fetters of superstitious darkness. Murder! What a hell full of furies + hovers around that word. Yet 'tis no more than if nature forgets to bring + forth one man more or the doctor makes a mistake—and thus the whole + phantasmagoria vanishes. It was something, and it is nothing. Does not + this amount to exactly the same thing as though it had been nothing, and + came to nothing; and about nothing it is hardly worth while to waste a + word. Man is made of filth, and for a time wades in filth, and produces + filth, and sinks back into filth, till at last he fouls the boots of his + own posterity.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *["To what base uses we may return, Horatio! why, may not + imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till we find it + stopping a bunghole?"—HAMLET, Act v, Sc. 1.] +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +That is the burden of the song—the filthy cycle of human fate; and with +that—a pleasant journey to you, sir brother! Conscience, that +splenetic, gouty moralist, may drive shrivelled old drones out of +brothels, and torture usurers on their deathbeds—with me it shall never +more have audience. + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE III.—Another Room in the Castle. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + CHARLES VON MOOR enters from one side, DANIEL from the other. +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES (hastily). Where is Lady Amelia? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Honored sir! permit an old man to ask you a favor. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. It is granted. What is it you ask? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Not much, and yet all—but little, and yet a great deal. + Suffer me to kiss your hand! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. That I cannot permit, good old man (embraces him), from one whom + I should like to call my father. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Your hand, your hand! I beseech you. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. That must not be. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. It must! (He takes hold of it, surveys it quickly, and falls down + before him.) Dear, dearest Charles! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (startled; he composes himself, and says in a distant tone). What + mean you, my friend? I don't understand you. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Yes, you may deny it, you may dissemble as much as you please? + 'Tis very well! very well. For all that you are my dearest, my excellent + young master. Good Heaven! that I, poor old man, should live to have the + joy—what a stupid blockhead was I that I did not at a glance—oh, + gracious powers! And you are really come back, and the dear old master is + underground, and here you are again! What a purblind dolt I was, to be + sure! (striking his forehead) that I did not on the instant—Oh, dear + me!—-who could have dreamt it—What I have so often prayed for + with tears—Oh, mercy me! There he stands again, as large as life, in + the old room! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What's all this oration about? Are you in a fit of delirium, and + have escaped from your keepers; or are you rehearsing a stage-player's + part with me? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Oh, fie! fie! It is not pretty of you to make game of an old + servant. That scar! Eh! do you remember it? Good Heaven! what a fright you + put me into—I always loved you so dearly; and what misery you might + have brought upon me. You were sitting in my lap—do you remember? + there in the round chamber. Has all that quite vanished from your memory—and + the cuckoo, too, that you were so fond of listening to? Only think! the + cuckoo is broken, broken all to shivers—old Susan smashed it in + sweeping the room—yes, indeed, and there you sat in my lap, and + cried, "Cockhorse!" and I ran off to fetch your wooden horse— mercy + on me! what business had I, thoughtless old fool, to leave you alone—and + how I felt as if I were in a boiling caldron when I heard you screaming in + the passage; and, when I rushed in, there was your red blood gushing + forth, and you lying on the ground. Oh, by the Blessed Virgin! did I not + feel as if a bucket of icy cold water was emptied all over me?—but + so it happens, unless one keeps all one's eyes upon children. Good Heaven! + if it had gone into your eye! Unfortunately it happened to be the right + hand. "As long as I live," said I, "never again shall any child in my + charge get hold of a knife or scissors, or any other edge tool." 'Twas + lucky for me that both my master and mistress were gone on a journey. + "Yes, yes! this shall be a warning to me for the rest of my life," said I—Gemini, + Gemini! I might have lost my place, I might—God forgive you, you + naughty boy—but, thank Heaven! it healed fairly, all but that ugly + scar. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. I do not comprehend one word of all that you are talking about. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Eh? eh? that was the time! was it not? How many a ginger-cake, and + biscuit, and macaroon, have I slipped into your bands—I was always + so fond of you. And do you recollect what you said to me down in the + stable, when I put you upon old master's hunter, and let you scamper round + the great meadow? "Daniel!" said you, "only wait till I am grown a big + man, and you shall be my steward, and ride in the coach with me." "Yes," + said I, laughing, "if heaven grants me life and health, and you are not + ashamed of the old man," I said, "I shall ask you to let me have the + little house down in the village, that has stood empty so long; and then I + will lay in a few butts of good wine, and turn publican in my old age." + Yes, you may laugh, you may laugh! Eh, young gentleman, have you quite + forgotten all that? You do not want to remember the old man, so you carry + yourself strange and loftily;—but, you are my jewel of a young + master, for all that. You have, it is true, been a little bit wild—don't + be angry!—as young blood is apt to be! All may be well yet in the + end. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (falls on his neck). Yes! Daniel! I will no longer hide it from + you! I am your Charles, your lost Charles! And now tell me, how does my + Amelia? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL (begins to cry). That I, old sinner, should live to have this + happiness—and my late blessed master wept so long in vain! Begone, + begone, hoary old head! Ye weary bones, descend into the grave with joy! + My lord and master lives! my own eyes have beheld him! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. And he will keep his promise to you. Take that, honest graybeard, + for the old hunter (forces a heavy purse upon him). I have not forgotten + the old man. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. How? What are you doing? Too much! You have made a mistake. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. No mistake, Daniel! (DANIEL is about to throw himself on his + knees before him.) Rise! Tell me, how does my Amelia? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Heaven reward you! Heaven reward you! O gracious me! Your Amelia + will never survive it, she will die for joy? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (eagerly). She has not forgotten me then? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Forgotten you? How can you talk thus? Forgotten you, indeed! You + should have been there, you should have seen how she took on, when the + news came of your death, which his honor caused to be spread abroad— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What do you say? my brother— + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Yes, your brother; his honor, your brother—another day I + will tell you more about it, when we have time—and how cleverly she + sent him about his business when he came a wooing every blessed day, and + offered to make her his countess. Oh, I must go; I must go and tell her; + carry her the news (is about to run of). + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Stay! stay! she must not know—nobody must know, not even my + brother! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Your brother? No, on no account; he must not know it! Certainly + not! If he know not already more than he ought to know. Oh, I can tell + you, there are wicked men, wicked brothers, wicked masters; but I would + not for all my master's gold be a wicked servant. His honor thought you + were dead. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Humph! What are you muttering about? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL (in a half-suppressed voice). And to be sure when a man rises from + the dead thus uninvited—your brother was the sole heir of our late + master! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Old man! what is it you are muttering between your teeth, as if + some dreadful secret were hovering on your tongue which you fear to utter, + and yet ought? Out with it! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +DANIEL. But I would rather gnaw my old bones with hunger, and suck my +own blood for thirst, than gain a life of luxury by murder. + [Exit hastily.] +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES (starting up, after a terrible pause). Betrayed! Betrayed! It + flashes upon my soul like lightning! A fiendish trick! A murderer and a + robber through fiend-like machinations! Calumniated by him! My letters + falsified, suppressed! his heart full of love! Oh, what a monstrous fool + was I! His fatherly heart full of love! oh, villainy, villainy! It would + have cost me but once kneeling at his feet—a tear would have done it—oh + blind, blind fool that I was! (running up against the wall). I might have + been happy—oh villainy, villainy! + </p> + <p> + Knavishly, yes, knavishly cheated out of all happiness in this life! (He + runs up and down in a rage.) A murderer, a robber, all through a knavish + trick! He was not even angry! Not a thought of cursing ever entered his + heart. Oh, miscreant! inconceivable, hypocritical, abominable miscreant! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter KOSINSKY. +</pre> + <p> + KOSINSKY. Well, captain, where are you loitering? What is the matter? You + are for staying here some time longer, I perceive? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Up! Saddle the horses! Before sunset we must be over the + frontier! + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. You are joking. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +CHARLES (in a commanding tone). Quick! quick! delay not! leave every +thing behind! and let no eye see you! + (Exit KOSINSKY.) +</pre> + <p> + I fly from these walls. The least delay might drive me raving road; and he + my father's son! Brother! brother! thou hast made me the most miserable + wretch on earth; I never injured thee; this was not brotherly. Reap the + fruits of thy crime in quiet, my presence shall no longer embitter thy + enjoyment—but, surely, this was not acting like a brother. May + oblivion shroud thy misdeed forever, and death not bring it back to light. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter KOSINSKY. +</pre> + <p> + KOSINSKY. The horses are ready saddled, you can mount as soon as you + please. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Why in such haste? Why so urgent? Shall I see her no more? + </p> + <p> + KOSINSKY. I will take off the bridles again, if you wish it; you bade me + hasten head over heels. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. One more farewell! one more! I must drain this poisoned cup of + happiness to the dregs, and then—Stay, Kosinsky! Ten minutes more— + behind, in the castle yard—and we gallop off. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Scene IV.—In the Garden. +</pre> + <p> + AMELIA. "You are in tears, Amelia!" These were his very words—and + spoken with such expressionsuch a voice!—oh, it summoned up a + thousand dear remembrances!—scenes of past delight, as in my + youthful days of happiness, my golden spring-tide of love. The nightingale + sung with the same sweetness, the flowers breathed the same delicious + fragrance, as when I used to hang enraptured on his neck.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[Here, in the acting edition, is added, 'Assuredly, if the spirits + of the departed wander among the living, then must this stranger be + Charles's angel!'] +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Ha! false, perfidious heart! And dost thou seek thus artfully to veil +thy perjury? No, no! begone forever from my soul, thou sinful image! +I have not broken my oath, thou only one! Avaunt, from my soul, ye +treacherous impious wishes! In the heart where Charles reigns no son +of earth may dwell. But why, my soul, dost thou thus constantly, thus +obstinately turn towards this stranger? Does he not cling to my heart +in the very image of my only one! Is he not his inseparable companion +in my thoughts? "You are in tears, Amelia?" Ha! let me fly from him!— +—fly!—never more shall my eyes behold this stranger! + [CHARLES opens the garden gate.] +</pre> + <p> + AMELIA (starting). Hark! hark! did I not hear the gate creak? (She + perceives CHARLES and starts up.) He?—whither?—what? I am + rooted to the spot,—I can not fly! Forsake me not, good Heaven! No! + thou shalt not tear me from my Charles! My soul has no room for two + deities, I am but a mortal maid! (She draws the picture of CHARLES from + her bosom.) Thou, my Charles! be thou my guardian angel against this + stranger, this invader of our loves! At thee will I look, at thee, nor + turn away my eyes—nor cast one sinful look towards him! (She sits + silent, her eyes fixed upon the picture.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. You here, Lady Amelia?—and so sad? and a tear upon that + picture? (AMELIA gives him no answer.) And who is the happy man for whom + these silver drops fall from an angel's eyes? May I be permitted to look + at—(He endeavors to look at the picture.) + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. No—yes—no! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (starting back). Ha—and does he deserve to be so idolized? + Does he deserve it? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Had you but known him! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. I should have envied him. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Adored, you mean. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Ha! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Oh, you would so have loved him?—-there was so much, so much + in his face—in his eyes—in the tone of his voice,—which + was so like yours—that I love so dearly! (CHARLES casts his eyes + down to the ground.) Here, where you are standing, he has stood a thousand + times— and by his side, one who, by his side, forgot heaven and + earth. Here his eyes feasted on nature's most glorious panorama,—which, + as if conscious of his approving glance, seemed to increase in beauty + under the approbation of her masterpiece. Here he held the audience of the + air captive with his heavenly music. Here, from this bush, he plucked + roses, and plucked those roses for me. Here, here, he lay on my neck; here + he imprinted burning kisses on my lips, and the flowers hung their heads + with pleasure beneath the foot-tread of the lovers.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[In the acting edition the scene changes materially at this point, + and the most sentimental part of the whole drama is transformed + into the most voluptuous. The stage direction here is,—(They give + way to their transports without control, and mingle their kisses. + MOOR hangs in ecstacy on her lips, while she sinks half delirious + on the couch.) O Charles! now avenge thyself; my vow is broken. + + MOOR (tearing himself away from her, as if in frenzy). Can this be + hell that still pursues me! (Gazing on her.) I felt so happy! + + AMELIA (perceiving the ring upon her finger, starts up from the + couch). What! Art thou still there—on that guilty hand? Witness + of my perjury. Away with thee! (She pulls the ring from her + finger and gives it to CHARLES.) Take it—take it, beloved + seducer! and with it what I hold most sacred—take my all—my + Charles! (She falls back upon the couch.) + + MOOR (changes color). O thou Most High! was this thy almighty + will? It is the very ring I gave her in pledge of our mutual + faith. Hell be the grave of love! She has returned my ring. + + AMELIA (terrified). Heavens! What is the matter? Your eyes roll + wildly, and your lips are pale as death! Ah! woe is me. And are + the pleasures of thy crime so soon forgotten? + + MOOR (suppressing his emotion). 'Tis nothing! Nothing! (Raising + his eyes to heaven.) I am still a man! (He takes of his own ring + and puts it on AMELIA'S finger.) In return take this! sweet fury of + my heart! And with it what I hold most sacred—take my all—my + Amelia! + + AMELIA (starting up). Your Amelia! + + MOOR (mournfully). Oh, she was such a lovely maiden, and faithful + as an angel. When we parted we exchanged rings, and vowed eternal + constancy. She heard that I was dead—believed it—yet remained + constant to the dead. She heard again that I was living—yet + became faithless to the living. I flew into her arms—was happy + as—the blest in Paradise. Think what my heart was doomed to feel, + Amelia! She gave me back my ring—she took her own. + + AMELIA (her eyes fixed on the earth in amazement). 'Tis strange, + most strange! 'Tis horrible! + + MOOR. Ay, strange and horrible! My child, there is much—ay, much + for man to learn ere his poor intellect can fathom the decrees of + Him who smiles at human vows and weeps at human projects. My + Amelia is an unfortunate maiden! + + AMELIA. Unfortunate! Because she rejected you? + + MOOR. Unfortunate. Because she embraced the man she betrayed. + + AMELIA (with melancholy tenderness). Oh, then, she is indeed + unfortunate! From my soul I pity her! She shall be my sister. + But there is another and a better world."] +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. He is no more? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. He sails on troubled seas—Amelia's love sails with him. He + wanders through pathless, sandy deserts—Amelia's love clothes the + burning sand with verdure, and the barren shrubs with flowers. Southern + suits scorch his bare head, northern snows pinch his feet, tempestuous + hail beats down on his temples, but Amelia's love lulls him to sleep in + the midst of the storm. Seas, and mountains, and skies, divide the lovers—but + their souls rise above this prison-house of clay, and meet in the paradise + of love. You appear sad, count! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. These words of love rekindle my love. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (pale). What? You love another? Alas! what have I said? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. She believed me dead, and in my supposed death she remained + faithful to me—she heard again that I was alive, and she sacrificed + for me the crown of a saint. She knows that I am wandering in deserts, and + roaming about in misery, yet her love follows me on wings through deserts + and through misery. Her name, too, like yours, is Amelia. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. How I envy your Amelia! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Oh, she is an unhappy maid. Her love is fixed upon one who is + lost—and it can never—never be rewarded. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Say not so! It will be rewarded in heaven. Is it not agreed that + there is a better world, where mourners rejoice, and where lovers meet + again? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Yes, a world where the veil is lifted—where the phantom + love will make terrible discoveries—Eternity is its name. My Amelia + is an unhappy maid. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Unhappy, and loves you?* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[In the acting edition the scene closes with a different + denouement. Amelia here says, "Are all unhappy who live with you, + and bear the name of Amelia. + "CHARLES. Yes, all—when they think they embrace an angel, and + find in their arms—a murderer. Alas, for my Amelia! She is + indeed unfortunate. + "AMELIA (with an expression of deep affliction). Oh, I must weep + for her. + "CHARLES (grasping her hand, and pointing to the ring). Weep for + thyself. + "AMELIA (recognizing the ring). Charles! Charles! O heaven and + earth! + (She sinks fainting; the scene closes.)"] +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. Unhappy, because she loves me! What if I were a murderer? How, + Lady Amelia, if your lover could reckon you up a murder for every one of + your kisses? Woe to my Amelia! She is an unhappy maid. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (gayly rising). Ha! What a happy maid am I! My only one is a + reflection of Deity, and Deity is mercy and compassion! He could not bear + to see a fly suffer. His soul is as far from every thought of blood as the + sun is from the moon. (CHARLES suddenly turns away into a thicket, and + looks wildly out into the landscape. AMELIA sings, playing the guitar.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Oh! Hector, wilt thou go forevermore, + Where fierce Achilles, on the blood-stained shore, + Heaps countless victims o'er Patroclus' grave? + Who then thy hapless orphan boy will rear, + Teach him to praise the gods and hurl the spear, + When thou art swallowed up in Xanthus' wave? +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES (silently tunes the guitar, and plays). + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Beloved wife!—stern duty calls to arms + Go, fetch my lance! and cease those vain alarms! + + [He flings the guitar away, and rushes off.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE V. + </h2> + <p> + —A neighboring forest. Night. An old ruined castle in the centre of + the scene. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The band of ROBBERS encamped on the ground. + + The ROBBERS singing. + + To rob, to kill, to wench, to fight, + Our pastime is, and daily sport; + The gibbet claims us morn and night, + So let's be jolly, time is short. + + A merry life we lead, and free, + A life of endless fun; + Our couch is 'neath the greenwood tree, + Through wind and storm we gain our fee, + The moon we make our sun. + Old Mercury is our patron true, + And a capital chap for helping us through. + + To-day we make the abbot our host, + The farmer rich to-morrow; + And where we shall get our next day's roast, + Gives us nor care nor sorrow. + + And, when with Rhenish and rare Moselle + Our throats we have been oiling, + Our courage burns with a fiercer swell, + And we're hand and glove with the Lord of Hell, + Who down in his flames is broiling. + + For fathers slain the orphans' cries, + The widowed mothers' moan and wail, + Of brides bereaved the whimpering sighs, + Like music sweet, our ears regale. + + Beneath the axe to see them writhe, + Bellow like calves, fall dead like flies; + Such bonny sights, and sounds so blithe, + With rapture fill our eats and eyes. + + And when at last our death-knell rings— + The devil take that hour! + Payment in full the hangman brings, + And off the stage we scour. + On the road a glass of good liquor or so, + Then hip! hip! hip! and away we go! +</pre> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. The night is far advanced, and the captain has not yet + returned. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. And yet he promised to be back before the clock struck eight. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Should any harm have befallen him, comrades, wouldn't we + kindle fires! ay, and murder sucking babes? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (takes RAZMANN aside). A word in your ear, Razmann! + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ (to GRIMM). Should we not send out scouts? + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Let him alone. He no doubt has some feat in hand that will put us + to shame. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Then you are out, by old Harry! He did not part from us like + one that had any masterpiece of roguery in view. Have you forgotten what + he said as he marched us across the heath? "The fellow that takes so much + as a turnip out of a field, if I know it, leaves his head behind him, as + true as my name is Moor." We dare not plunder. + </p> + <p> + RAZ. (aside to SPIEGELBERG). What are you driving at? Speak plainer. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Hush! hush! I know not what sort of a notion you and I have of + liberty, that we should toil under the yoke like bullocks, while we are + making such wonderful fine speeches about independence. I like it not. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (to GRIMM). What crotchet has that swaggering booby got in his + numskull, I wonder? + </p> + <p> + RAZ. (aside to SPIEGELBERG). Is it the captain you mean?— + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Hush! I tell you; hush! He has got his eavesdroppers all around + us. Captain, did you say? Who made him captain over us? Has he not, in + fact, usurped that title, which by right belongs to me? What? Is it for + this that we stake our lives—that we endure all the splenetic + caprices of fortunes—that we may in the end congratulate ourselves + upon being the serfs of a slave? Serfs! When we might be princes? By + heaven! Razmann, I could never brook it. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (overhearing him—to the others). Yes—there's a hero + for you! He is just the man to do mighty execution upon frogs with stones. + The very breath of his nostrils, when he sneezes, would blow you through + the eye of a needle. + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. (to RAZMANN). Yes—and for years I have been intent upon it. + There must be an alteration, Razmann. If you are the man I always took you + for—Razmann! He is missing—he is almost given up—Razmann— + methinks his hour is come. What? does not the color so much as mount to + your cheek when you hear the chimes of liberty ringing in your ears? Have + you not courage enough to take the hint? + </p> + <p> + RAZ. Ha! Satan! What bait art thou spreading for my soul? + </p> + <p> + SPIEGEL. Does it take? Good! then follow me! I have marked in what + direction he slunk off. Come along! a brace of pistols seldom fail; and + then—we shall be the first to strangle sucking babes. (He endeavors + to draw him of.) + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (enraged, draws his sword). Ha! caitiff! I have overheard you! + You remind me, at the right moment, of the Bohemian forest! Were not you + the coward that began to quail when the cry arose, "the enemy is coming!" + I then swore by my soul—(They fight, SPIEGELBERG is killed.) To the + devil with thee, assassin! + </p> + <p> + ROBBERS (in agitation). Murder! murder!—Schweitzer!—Spiegelberg!— + Part them! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (throwing the sword on the body). There let him rot! Be still, + my comrades! Don't let such a trifle disturb you. The brute has always + been inveterate against the captain and has not a single scar on his whole + body. Once more, be still. Ha, the scoundrel! He would stab a man behind + his back—skulk and murder! Is it for this that the hot sweat has + poured down us in streams? that we may sneak out of the world at last like + contemptible wretches? The brute! Is it for this that we have lived in + fire and brimstone? To perish at last like rats? + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. But what the devil, comrade, were you after? What were you + quarreling about? The captain will be furious. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Be that on my head. And you, wretch (to RAZMANN) you were his + accomplice, you! Get out of my sight! Schufterle was another of your + kidney, but he has met his deserts in Switzerland—has been hanged, + as the captain prophesied. (A shot is heard.) + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ (jumping up). Hark! a pistol shot! (Another shot is heard.) + Another! Hallo! the captain! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Patience! If it be he, there will be a third. (The third shot is + heard.) + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. 'Tis he! 'Tis the captain! Absent yourself awhile, Schweitzer—till + we explain to him! (They fire.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter CHARLES VON MOOR and KOSINSKY. +</pre> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (running to meet them). Welcome, captain. I have been somewhat + choleric in your absence. (He conducts him to the corpse.) Be you judge + between him and me. He meant to waylay and assassinate you. + </p> + <p> + ROBBERS (in consternation). What; the captain? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (after fixing his eyes for some time upon the corpse, with a + sudden burst of feeling). Oh, incomprehensible finger of the avenging + Nemesis! Was it not he whose siren song seduced me to be what I am? Let + this sword be consecrated to the dark goddess of retribution! That was not + thy deed, Schweitzer. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. By heaven, it was mine, though! and, as the devil lives, it is + not the worst deed I have done in my time. (Turns away moodily.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (absorbed in thought). I comprehend—Great Ruler in heaven— + I comprehend. The leaves fall from the trees, and my autumn is come. + Remove this object from my sight! (The corpse of SPIEGELBERG is carried + out.) + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Give us your orders, captain! What shall we do next? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Soon—very soon—all will be accomplished. Hand me my + lute; I have lost myself since I have been there. My lute, I say—I + must nurse up my strength again. Leave me! + </p> + <p> + ROBBERS. 'Tis midnight, captain. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. They were only stage tears after all. Let me bring to memory the + song of the old Roman, that my slumbering genius may wake up again. Hand + me my lute. Midnight, say you? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Yes, and past, too! Our eyes are as heavy as lead. For three days + we have not slept a wink. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What? does balmy sleep visit the eyes of murderers? Why doth it + flee mine? I never was a coward, nor a villain. Lay yourselves to rest. At + day-break we march. + </p> + <p> + ROBBERS. Good night, captain. (They stretch them selves on the ground and + fall asleep.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Profound silence. CHARLES VON MOOR takes up his + guitar, and plays. +</pre> + <p> + BRUTUS. Oh, be ye welcome, realms of peace and rest! Receive the last of + all the sons of Rome! From dread Philippi's field, where all the best Fell + bleeding in her cause, I wearied come. Cassius, no more! And Rome now + prostrate laid! My brethren all lie weltering in their gore! No refuge + left but Hades' gloomy shade; No hope remains!—No world for Brutus + more! + </p> + <p> + CAESAR. Who's he that, with a hero's lofty bearing, Comes striding o'er + yon mountain's rocky bed? Unless my eyes deceive, that noble daring + Bespeaks the Roman warrior's fearless tread. Whence, son of Tiber, do thy + footsteps bend! Say, stands the seven-billed city firmly yet? No Caesar + there, to be the soldiers friend! Full oft has he that orphaned city wept. + </p> + <p> + BRUTUS. Ha! thou of three-and-twenty wounds! Avaunt! Thou unblest shade, + what calls thee back to light? Down with thee, down, to Pluto's deepest + haunt, And shroud thy form in black, eternal night, Proud mourner! triumph + not to learn our fall! Phillippi's altars reek with freedom's blood? The + bier of Brutus is Rome's funeral pall; He Minos seeks. Hence to thy + Stygian flood! + </p> + <p> + CAESAR. That death-stroke, Brutus, which thy weapon hurled! Thou, too, + Brutus?—that thou shouldst be my foe! Oh, son! It was thy father! + Son! The world Was thine by heritage! Now proudly go, Well mayst thou + claim to be the chief in glory, 'Twas thy fell sword that pierced thy + father's heart! Now go—and at yon gates relate thy story— Say + Brutus claims to be the chief in glory, 'Twas his fell sword that pierced + his father's heart! Go—Now thou'rt told what staid me on this shore, + Grim ferryman, push off, and swiftly ply thine oar. + </p> + <p> + BRUTUS. Stay, father, stay! Within the whole bright round Of Sol's diurnal + course I knew but one Who to compare with Caesar could be found; And that + one, Caesar, thou didst call thy son! 'Twas only Caesar could destroy a + Rome; Brutus alone that Caesar could withstand— Where Brutus lives, + must Caesar die! Thy home Be far from mine. I'll seek another land. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [He lays down his guitar, and walks to and + fro in deep meditation.] +</pre> + <p> + Who will give me certainty! All is so dark—a confused labyrinth—no + outlet—no guiding star. Were but all to end with this last gasp of + breath. To end, like an empty puppet-show. But why then this burning + thirst after happiness? Wherefore this ideal of unattained perfection? + This looking to an hereafter for the fulfilment of our hopes? If the + paltry pressure of this paltry thing (putting a pistol to his head) makes + the wise man and the fool—the coward and the brave—the noble + and the villain equal?—the harmony which pervades the inanimate + world is so divinely perfect—why, then, should there be such discord + in the intellectual? No! no! there must be something beyond, for I have + not yet attained to happiness. + </p> + <p> + Think ye that I will tremble, spirits of my slaughtered victims? No, I + will not tremble. (Trembling violently.) The shrieks of your dying agonies—your + black, convulsive features—your ghastly bleeding wounds— what + are they all but links of one indissoluble chain of destiny, which hung + upon the temperament of my father, the life's blood of my mother, the + humors of my nurses and tutors, and even upon the holiday pastimes of my + childhood! (Shaking with horror.) Why has my Perillus made of me a brazen + bull, whose burning entrails yearn after human flesh? (He lifts the pistol + again to his head.) + </p> + <p> + Time and Eternity!—linked together by a single instant! Fearful key, + which locks behind me the prisonhouse of life, and opens before me the + habitations of eternal night—tell me—oh, tell me—whither—whither + wilt thou lead me? Strange, unexplored land! Humanity is unnerved at the + fearful thought, the elasticity of our finite nature is paralyzed, and + fancy, that wanton ape of the senses, juggles our credulity with appalling + phantoms. No! no! a man must be firm. Be what thou wilt, thou undefined + futurity, so I remain but true to myself. Be what thou wilt, so I but take + this inward self hence with me. External forms are but the trappings of + the man. My heaven and my hell is within. + </p> + <p> + What if Thou shouldst doom me to be sole inhabitant of some burnt-out + world which thou hast banished from thy sight, where darkness and + never-ending desolation were all my prospect; then would my creative brain + people the silent waste with its own images, and I should have eternity + for leisure to unravel the complicated picture of universal wretchedness. + Or wilt thou make me pass through ever-repeated births and ever-changing + scenes of misery, stage by stage*—to annihilation? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [This and other passages will remind the reader of Cato's soliloquy + "It must be so, Plato; thou reasonest well." But the whole bears a + strong resemblance to Hamlet's "To be or not to be;" and some + passages in Measure for Measure, Act iii, Sc. 1.] +</pre> + <p> + Can I not burst asunder the life-threads woven for me in another world as + easily as I do these? Thou mayest reduce me into nothing; but Thou canst + not take from me this power. (He loads the pistol, and then suddenly + pauses.) And shall I then rush into death from a coward fear of the ills + of life? Shall I yield to misery the palm of victory over myself? No! I + will endure it! (He flings the pistol away.) Misery shall blunt its edge + against my pride! Be my destiny fulfilled! (It grows darker and darker.) + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (coming through the forest). Hark! hark! the owl screeches + horribly—the village clock strikes twelve. Well, well—villainy + is asleep—no listeners in these wilds. (He goes to the castle and + knocks.) Come forth, thou man of sorrow! tenant of the miserable dungeon! + thy meal awaits thee. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (stepping gently back, unperceived). What means this? + </p> + <p> + VOICE (from within the castle). Who knocks? Is it you, Hermann, my raven? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Yes, 'tis Hermann, your raven. Come to the grating and eat. (Owls + are screeching.) Your night companions make a horrid noise, old man! Do + you relish your repast? + </p> + <p> + VOICE. Yes—I was very hungry. Thanks to thee, thou merciful sender + of ravens, for this thy bread in the wilderness! And how is my dear child, + Hermann? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Hush!—hark!—A noise like snoring! Don't you hear + something? + </p> + <p> + VOICE. What? Do you hear anything? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. 'Tis the whistling of the wind through the crannies of the tower—a + serenading which makes one's teeth chatter, and one's nails turn blue. + Hark! tis there again. I still fancy I hear snoring. You have company, old + man. Ugh! ugh! ugh! + </p> + <p> + VOICE. Do you see anything? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Farewell! farewell! this is a fearful place. Go down into your + bole,—thy deliverer, thy avenger is above. Oh! accursed son! (Is + about to fly.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (stepping forth with horror). Stand! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN (screaming). Oh, me!* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[In the acting edition Hermann, instead of this, says,— + 'Tis one of his spies for certain, I have lost all fear (draws his + sword). Villain, defend yourself! You have a man before you.] + + MOOR. I'll have an answer (strikes the sword out of his hand). + What boots this childish sword-play? Didst thou not speak of + vengeance? Vengeance belongs especially to me—of all men on + earth. Who dares interfere with my vocation? + + HERMANN (starts back in affright). By heaven! That man was not + born of woman. His touch withers like the stroke of death. + + VOICE. Alas, Hermann! to whom are you speaking? + + MOOR. What! still those sounds? What is going on there? (Runs + towards the tower.) Some horrible mystery, no doubt, lies concealed + in that tower. This sword shall bring it to light. + + HERMANN (comes forward trembling). Terrible stranger! art thou + the demon of this fearful desert—or perhaps 'one of the ministers + of that unfathonable retribution who make their circuit in this + lower world, and take account of all the deeds of darkness? Oh! + if thou art, be welcome to this tower of horrors! + + MOOR. Well guessed, wanderer of the night! You have divined my + function. Exterminating Angel is my name; but I am flesh and blood + like thee. Is this some miserable wretch, cast out of men, and + buried in this dungeon? I will loosen his chains. Once more, + speak! thou voice of terror Where is the door? + + HERMANN. As soon could Satan force the gates of heaven as thou + that door. Retire, thou man of might! The genius of the wicked is + beyond the ordinary powers of man. + + MOOR. But not the craft of robbers. (He takes some pass-keys from + his pocket.) For once I thank heaven I've learned that craft! + These keys would mock hell's foresight. (He takes a key, and opens + the gate of the tower. An old man comes from below emaciated like + a skeleton. MOOR springs back with of right.) Horrible spectre! + my father! +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. Stand! I say. + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Woe! woe! woe! now all is discovered! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Speak! Who art thou? What brought thee here? Speak! + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Mercy, mercy! gracious sir! Hear but one word before you kill me. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (drawing his sword). What am I to hear? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. 'Tis true, he forbade me at the peril of my life—but I + could not help it—I dare not do otherwise—a God in heaven—your + own venerable father there—pity for him overcame me. Kill me, if you + will! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. There's some mystery here—Out with it! Speak! I must know + all. + </p> + <p> + VOICE (from the castle). Woe! woe! Is it you, Hermann, that are speaking? + To whom are you speaking, Hermann? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Some one else down there? What is the meaning of all this? (Runs + towards the castle.) It is some prisoner whom mankind have cast off! I + will loosen his chains. Voice! Speak! Where is the door? + </p> + <p> + HERMANN. Oh, have mercy, sir—seek no further, I entreat—for + mercy's sake desist! (He stops his way.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Locks, bolts, and bars, away! It must come out. Now, for the + first time, come to my aid, thief-craft! (He opens the grated iron door + with, housebreaking tools. An OLD MAN, reduced to a skeleton, comes up + from below.) + </p> + <p> + THE OLD MAN. Mercy on a poor wretch! Mercy! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (starts back in terror). That is my father's voice! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. I thank thee, merciful Heaven! The hour of deliverance has + arrived. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Shade of the aged Moor! what has disturbed thee in thy grave? Has + thy soul left this earth charged with some foul crime that bars the gates + of Paradise against thee? Say?—I will have masses read, to send thy + wandering spirit to its home. Hast thou buried in the earth the gold of + widows and orphans, that thou art driven to wander howling through the + midnight hour? I will snatch the hidden treasure from the clutches of the + infernal dragon, though he should vomit a thousand redhot flames upon me, + and gnash his sharp teeth against my sword. Or comest thou, at my request, + to reveal to me the mysteries of eternity? Speak, thou! speak! I am not + the man to blanch with fear! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. I am not a spirit. Touch me—I live but oh! a life indeed + of misery! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What! hast thou not been buried? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. I was buried—that is to say, a dead dog lies in the vault + of my ancestors, and I have been pining for three long moons in this dark + and loathsome dungeon, where no sunbeam shines, no warm breeze penetrates, + where no friend is seen, where the hoarse raven croaks and owls screech + their midnight concert. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Heaven and earth! Who has done this? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Curse him not! 'Tis my son, Francis, who did this. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Francis? Francis? Oh, eternal chaos! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. If thou art a man, and hast a human heart—oh! my unknown + deliverer—then listen to a father's miseries which his own sons have + heaped upon him. For three long moons I have moaned my pitiful tale to + these flinty walls—but all my answer was an empty echo, that seemed + to mock my wailings. Therefore, if thou art a man, and hast a human heart— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. That appeal might move even wild beasts to pity. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. I lay upon a sick bed, and had scarcely begun to recover a + little strength, after a dangerous illness, when a man was brought to me, + who pretended that my first-born had fallen in battle. He brought a sword + stained with his blood, and his last farewell—and said that my curse + had driven him into battle, and death, and despair. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (turning away in violent agitation). The light breaks in upon me! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Hear me on! I fainted at the dreadful news. They must have + thought me dead; for, when I recovered my senses, I was already in my + coffin, shrouded like a corpse. I scratched against the lid. It was opened—'twas + in the dead of night—my son Francis stood before me— "What!" + said he, with a tremendous voice, "wilt thou then live forever?" —and + with this he slammed-to the lid of the coffin. The thunder of these words + bereft me of my senses; when I awoke again, I felt that the coffin was in + motion, and being borne on wheels. At last it was opened —I found + myself at the entrance of this dungeon—my son stood before me, and + the man, too, who had brought me the bloody sword from Charles. I fell at + my son's feet, and ten times I embraced his knees, and wept, and conjured, + and supplicated, but the supplications of a father reached not his flinty + heart. "Down with the old carcass!" said he, with a voice of thunder, "he + has lived too long;"—and I was thrust down without mercy, and my son + Francis closed the door upon Me. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Impossible!—impossible! Your memory or senses deceive you. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Oh, that it were so! But hear me on, and restrain your rage! + There I lay for twenty hours, and not a soul cared for my misery. No human + footstep treads this solitary wild, for 'tis commonly believed that the + ghosts of my ancestors drag clanking chains through these ruins, and chant + their funeral dirge at the hour of midnight. At last I heard the door + creak again on its hinges; this man opened it, and brought me bread and + water. He told me that I had been condemned to die of hunger, and that his + life was in danger should it be discovered that he fed me. Thus has my + miserable existence been till now sustained—but the unceasing cold—the + foul air of my filthy dungeon—my incurable grief—have + exhausted my strength, and reduced my body to a skeleton. A thousand times + have I implored heaven, with tears, to put an end to my sufferings—but + doubtless the measure of my punishment is not fulfilled,—or some + happiness must be yet in store for me, for which he deigns thus + miraculously to preserve me. But I suffer justly—my Charles! my + Charles!—and before there was even a gray hair on his Head! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Enough! Rise! ye stocks, ye lumps of ice! ye lazy unfeeling + sleepers! Up! will none of you awake? (He fires a pistol over their + heads.) + </p> + <p> + THE ROBBERS (starting up). Ho! hallo! hallo! what is the matter? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Has not that tale shaken you out of your sleep? 'Tis enough to + break the sleep eternal! See here, see here! The laws of the world have + become mere dice-play; the bonds of nature are burst asunder; the Demon of + Discord has broken loose, and stalks abroad triumphant! the Son has slain + his Father! + </p> + <p> + THE ROBBERS. What does the captain say? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Slain! did I say? No, that is too mild a term! A son has a + thousand-fold broken his own father on the wheel,—impaled, racked, + flayed him alive!—but all these words are too feeble to express what + would make sin itself blush and cannibals shudder. For ages, no devil ever + conceived a deed so horrible. His own father!—but see, see him! he + has fainted away! His own father—the son—into this dungeon—cold— + naked—hungry—athirst—Oh! see, I pray you, see!—'tis + my own father, in very truth it is. + </p> + <p> + THE ROBBERS (come running and surround the old man). Your father? Yours? + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (approaches him reverently, and falls on his knees before him). + Father of my captain! let me kiss thy feet! My dagger is at thy command. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Revenge, revenge, revenge! thou horribly injured, profaned old + man! Thus, from this moment, and forever, I rend in twain all ties of + fraternity. (He rends his garment from top to bottom.) Here, in the face + of heaven, I curse him—curse every drop of blood which flows in his + veins! Hear me, O moon and stars! and thou black canopy of night, that + lookest down upon this horror! Hear me, thrice terrible avenger. Thou who + reignest above yon pallid orb, who sittest an avenger and a judge above + the stars, and dartest thy fiery bolts through darkness on the head of + guilt! Behold me on my knees behold me raise this hand aloft in the gloom + of night—and hear my oath—and may nature vomit me forth as + some horrible abortion from out the circle of her works if I break that + oath! Here I swear that I will never more greet the light of day, till the + blood of that foul parricide, spilt upon this stone, reeks in misty vapor + towards heaven. (He rises.) + </p> + <p> + ROBBERS. 'Tis a deed of hell! After this, who shall call us villains? No! + by all the dragons of darkness we never have done anything half so + horrible. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. True! and by all the fearful groans of those whom your daggers + have despatched—of those who on that terrible day were consumed by + fire, or crushed by the falling tower—no thought of murder or rapine + shall be harbored in your breast, till every man among you has dyed his + garments scarlet in this monster's blood. It never, I should think, + entered your dreams, that it would fall to your lot to execute the great + decrees of heaven? The tangled web of our destiny is unravelled! To-day, + to-day, an invisible power has ennobled our craft! Worship Him who has + called you to this high destiny, who has conducted you hither, and deemed + ye worthy to be the terrible angels of his inscrutable judgments! Uncover + your heads! Bow down and kiss the dust, and rise up sanctified. (They + kneel.) + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Now, captain, issue your commands! What shall we do? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Rise, Schweitzer! and touch these sacred locks! (Leading him to + his father, and putting a lock of hair in his hand.) Do you remember + still, how you, cleft the skull of that Bohemian trooper, at the moment + his sabre was descending on my head, and I had sunk down on my knees, + breathless and exhausted? 'Twas then I promised thee a reward that should + be right royal. But to this hour I have never been able to discharge that + debt. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. You swore that much to me, 'tis true; but let me call you my + debtor forever! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. No; now will I repay thee, Schweitzer! No mortal has yet been + honored as thou shalt be. I appoint thee avenger of my father's wrongs! + (SCHWEITZER rises.) + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Mighty captain! this day you have, for the first time, made me + truly proud! Say, when, where, how shall I smite him? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. The minutes are sacred. You must hasten to the work. Choose the + best of the band, and lead them straight to the count's castle! Drag him + from his bed, though he sleep, or he folded in the arms of pleasure! Drag + him from the table, though he be drunk! Tear him from the crucifix, though + he lie on his knees before it! But mark my words— I charge thee, + deliver him into my hands alive! I will hew that man to pieces, and feed + the hungry vultures with his flesh, who dares but graze his skin, or + injure a single hair of his head! I must have him whole. Bring him to me + whole and alive, and a million shall be thy reward. I'll plunder kings at + the risk of my life, but thou shalt have it, and go free as air. Thou hast + my purpose—see it done! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Enough, captain! here is my hand upon it. You shall see both + of us, or neither. Come, Schweitzer's destroying angels, follow me! (Exit + with a troop.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. The rest of you disperse in the forest—I remain here. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ACT V. + </h2> + <h3> + SCENE I. A vista of rooms. Dark night. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter DANIEL, with a lantern and a bundle. +</pre> + <p> + DANIEL. Farewell, dear home! How many happy days have I enjoyed within + these walls, while my old master lived. Tears to thy memory, thou whom the + grave has long since devoured! He deserves this tribute from an old + servant. His roof was the asylum of orphans, the refuge of the destitute, + but this son has made it a den of murderers. Farewell, thou dear floor! + How often has old Daniel scrubbed thee! Farewell, dear stove, old Daniel + takes a heavy leave of thee. All things had grown so familiar to thee,—thou + wilt feel it sorely, old Eleazar. But heaven preserve me through grace + from the wiles and assault of the tempter. Empty I came hither—empty + I will depart,—but my soul is saved! (He is in the act of going out, + when he is met by FRANCIS, rushing in, in his dressing-gown.) Heaven help + me! Master! (He puts out his lantern.) + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Betrayed! betrayed! The spirit of the dead are vomited from their + graves. The realm of death, shaken out of its eternal slumber, roars at + me, "Murderer, murderer!" Who moves there? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL (frightened). Help, holy Virgin! help! Is it you, my gracious + master, whose shrieks echo so terribly through the castle that every one + is aroused out of his sleep? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Sleep? And who gave thee leave to sleep? Go, get lights! (Exit + DANIEL. Enter another servant.) No one shall sleep at this hour. Do you + hear? All shall be awake—in arms—let the guns be loaded! Did + you not see them rushing through yon vaulted passages? + </p> + <p> + SERVANT. See whom, my lord? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Whom? you dolt, slave! And do you, with a cold and vacant stare, + ask me whom? Have they not beset me almost to madness? Whom? blockhead! + whom? Ghosts and demons! How far is the night advanced? + </p> + <p> + SERVANT. The watch has just called two. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. What? will this eternal night last till doomsday? Did you hear no + tumult near? no shout of victory? no trampling of horses? Where is Char—the + Count, I would say? + </p> + <p> + SERVANT. I know not, my lord. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. You know not? And are you too one of his gang? I'll tread your + villain's heart out through your ribs for that infernal "I know not!" + Begone, fetch the minister! + </p> + <p> + SERVANT. My lord! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. What! Do you grumble? Do you demur? (Exit servant hastily.) Do my + very slaves conspire against me? Heaven, earth, and hell—all + conspire against me! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL (returns with a lighted candle). My lord! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Who said I trembled? No!—'twas but a dream. The dead still + rest in their graves! Tremble! or pale? No, no! I am calm—quite + tranquil. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. You are as pale as death, my lord; your voice is weak and + faltering. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. I am somewhat feverish. When the minister comes be sure you say I + am in a fever. Say that I intend to be bled in the morning. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Shall I give you some drops of the balsam of life on sugar? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Yes, balsam of life on sugar! The minister will not be here just + yet. My voice is weak and faltering. Give me of the balsam of life on + sugar! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Let me have the keys, I will go down to the closet and get it. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. No! no! no! Stay!—or I will go with you. You see I must not + be left alone! How easily I might, you see—faint—if I should + be left alone. Never mind, never mind! It will pass off—you must not + leave me. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Indeed, Sir, you are ill, very ill. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Yes, just so, just so, nothing more. And illness, you know, + bewilders the brain, and breeds strange and maddening dreams. What signify + dreams? Dreams come from the stomach and cannot signify anything. Is it + not so, Daniel? I had a very comical dream just now. (He sinks down + fainting.) + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Oh, merciful heaven! what is this? George!—Conrad! + Sebastian! Martin! Give but some sign of life! (Shaking him.) Oh, the + Blessed Virgin! Oh, Joseph! Keep but your reason! They will say I have + murdered him! Lord have mercy upon me! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (confused). Avaunt!—avaunt!—why dost thou glare upon + me thus, thou horrible spectre? The time for the resurrection of the dead + is not yet come. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Merciful heavens! he has lost his senses. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (recovering himself gradually). Where am I? You here, Daniel? What + have I said? Heed it not. I have told a lie, whatever I said. Come, help + me up! 'T was only a fit of delirium—because—because—I + have not finished my night's rest. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. If John were but here! I'll call for help—I'll send for the + physician. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Stay! Seat yourself by my side on this sofa! There. You are a + sensible man, a good man. Listen to my dream! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Not now; another time! Let me lead you to bed; you have great need + of rest. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. No, no; I prythee, listen, Daniel, and have a good laugh at me. + You must know I fancied that I held a princely banquet, my heart was + merry, and I lay stretched on the turf in the castle garden; and all on a + sudden—it was at midday—and all on a sudden—but mind you + have a good laugh at me! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. All on a sudden. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. All on a sudden a tremendous peal of thunder struck upon my + slumbering ear; I started up staggering and trembling; and lo, it seemed + as if the whole hemisphere had burst forth in one flaming sheet of fire, + and mountains, and cities, and forests melted away like wax in the + furnace; and then rose a howling whirlwind, which swept before it the + earth, and the sea, and heaven; then came a sound, as from brazen + trumpets, "Earth, give up thy dead: sea, give up thy dead!" and the open + plains began to heave, and to cast up skulls, and ribs, and jawbones, and + legs, which drew together into human bodies, and then came sweeping along + in dense, interminable masses—a living deluge. Then I looked up, and + to! I stood at the foot of the thundering Sinai, and above me was a + multitude, and below me a multitude; and on the summit of the mountain, on + three smoking thrones, sat three men, before whose gaze all creation + trembled. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Why, this is a living picture of the day of judgment. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Did I not tell you? Is it not ridiculous stuff? And one stepped + forth who, to look upon, was like a starlight night; he had in his hand a + signet ring of iron, which he held up between the east and the west, and + said, "Eternal, holy, just, immutable! There is but one truth; there is + but one virtue! Woe, woe, woe! to the doubting sinner!" Then stepped forth + a second, who had in his hand a flashing mirror, which he held up between + the east and west, and said, "This is the mirror of truth; hypocrisy and + deceit cannot look on it." Then was I terrified, and so were all, for we + saw the forms of snakes, and tigers, and leopards reflected from that + fearful mirror. Then stepped forth a third, who had in his hand a brazen + balance, which he held up between the east and the west, and said, + "Approach, ye sons of Adam! I weigh your thoughts in the balance of my + wrath! and your deeds with the weight of my fury!" + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. The Lord have mercy upon me! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. They all stood pale and trembling, and every heart was panting + with fearful expectation. Then it seemed to me as if I heard my name + called the first from out the thunders of the mountain, and the innermost + marrow froze within my bones, and my teeth chattered loudly. Presently the + clang of the balance was heard, the rocks sent forth thunders, and the + hours glided by, one after the other, towards the left scale, and each + threw into it a mortal sin! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Oh, may God forgive you! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. He forgave me not! The left scale grew mountains high, but the + other, filled with the blood of atonement, still outweighed it. At last + came an old man, heavily bowed down with grief, his arm gnawed through + with raging hunger. Every eye turned away in horror from the sight. I knew + the man—he cut off a lock of his silver hair, and cast it into the + scale of my sins, when to! in an instant, it sank down to the abyss, and + the scale of atonement flew up on high. Then heard I a voice, issuing like + thunder from the bowels *[Some editions of the original read Rauch + (smoke), some Bauch, as translated.] of the mountain, "Pardon, pardon to + every sinner of the earth and of the deep! Thou alone art rejected!" (A + profound pause.) Well, why don't you laugh? + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Can I laugh while my flesh creeps? Dreams come from above. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Pshaw! pshaw! Say not so! Call me a fool, an idiot, an absurd + fool! Do, there's a good Daniel, I entreat of you; have a hearty laugh at + me! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Dreams come from God. I will pray for you. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Thou liest, I tell thee. Go, this instant, run! be quick! see + where the minister tarries all this time; tell him to come quickly, + instantly! But, I tell thee, thou liest! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +DANIEL. Heaven have mercy upon you! + [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + FRANCIS. Vulgar prejudice! mere superstition! It has not yet been proved + that the past is not past and forgotten, or that there is an eye above + this earth to take account of what passes on it. Humph! Humph! But whence, + then, this fearful whisper to my soul? Is there really an avenging judge + above the stars? No, no! Yes, yes! A fearful monitor within bears witness + that there is One above the stars who judgeth! What! meet the avenger + above the stars this very night? No, no! I say. All is empty, lonely, + desolate, beyond the stars. Miserable subterfuge, beneath which thy + cowardice seeks to hide itself. And if there should be something in it + after all? No! no! it cannot be. I insist that it cannot be! But yet, if + there should be! Woe to thee if thy sins should all have been registered + above!—if they should be counted over to thee this very night! Why + creeps this shudder through my frame? To die! Why does that word frighten + me thus? To give an account to the Avenger, there, above the stars! and if + he should be just—the wails of orphans and widows, of the oppressed, + the tormented, ascending to his ears, and he be just? Why have they been + afflicted? And why have I been permitted to trample upon them? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter PASTOR MOSER. +</pre> + <p> + MOSER. Your lordship sent for me! I am surprised! The first time in my + life! Is it to scoff at religion, or does it begin to make you tremble? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. I may scoff or I may tremble, according as you shall answer me. + Listen to me, Moser, I will prove that you are a fool, or wish to make + fools of others, and you shall answer me. Do you hear? At the peril of + your life you shall answer me. + </p> + <p> + MOSER. 'Tis a higher Being whom you summon before your tribunal. He will + answer you hereafter. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. I will be answered now, this instant, that I may not commit the + contemptible folly of calling upon the idol of the vulgar under the + pressure of suffering. I have often, in bumpers of Burgundy, tauntingly + pledged you in the toast, "There is no God!" Now I address myself to you + in earnest, and I tell you there is none? You shall oppose me with all the + weapons in your power; but with the breath of my lips I will blow them + away. + </p> + <p> + MOSER. 'Twere well that you could also blow away the thunder which will + alight upon your proud soul with ten thousand times ten thousand tons' + weight! That omniscient God, whom you—fool and miscreant—are + denying in the midst of his creation, needeth not to justify himself by + the mouth of dust. He is as great in your tyrannies as in the sweetest + smile of triumphant virtue. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Uncommonly well said, parson. Thus I like you. + </p> + <p> + MOSER. I stand here as steward of a greater Master, and am addressing one + who, like myself, is a sinner—one whom I care not to please. I must + indeed be able to work miracles, to extort the acknowledgment from your + obdurate wickedness—but if your conviction is so firm, why have you + sent for me in the middle of the night? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Because time hangs heavy on my hands, and the chess-board has + ceased to have any attraction. I wish to amuse myself in a tilt with the + parson. Your empty terrors will not unman my courage. I am well aware that + those who have come off short in this world look forward to eternity; but + they will be sadly disappointed. I have always read that our whole body is + nothing more than a blood-spring, and that, with its last drop, mind and + thought dissolve into nothing. They share all the infirmities of the body; + why, then, should they not cease with its dissolution? Why not evaporate + in its decomposition? Let a drop of water stray into your brain, and life + makes a sudden pause, which borders on non-existence, and this pause + continued is death. Sensation is the vibration of a few chords, which, + when the instrument is broken, cease to sound. If I raze my seven castles—if + I dash this Venus to pieces—there is an end of their symmetry and + beauty. Behold! thus is it with your immortal soul! + </p> + <p> + MOSER. So says the philosophy of your despair. But your own heart, which + knocks against your ribs with terror even while you thus argue, gives your + tongue the lie. These cobwebs of systems are swept away by the single word—"Thou + must die!" I challenge you, and be this the test: If you maintain your + firmness in the hour of death; if your principles do not then miserably + desert you, you shall be admitted to have the best of the argument. But + if, in that dread hour, the least shudder creeps over you, then woe be to + you! you have deceived yourself. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (disturbed). If in the hour of death a shudder creeps over me? + </p> + <p> + MOSER. I have seen many such wretches before now, who set truth at + defiance up to that point; but at the approach of death the illusion + vanished. I will stand at your bedside when you are dying—I should + much like to see a tyrant die. I will stand by, and look you steadfastly + in the face when the physician takes your cold, clammy hand, and is + scarcely able to detect your expiring pulse; and when he looks up, and, + with a fearful shake of the head, says to you, "All human aid is in vain!" + Beware, at that moment, beware, lest you look like Richard and Nero! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. No! no! + </p> + <p> + MOSER. Even that very "No" will then be turned to a howling "Yea!" An + inward tribunal, which you can no longer cheat with sceptical delusions, + will then wake up and pass judgment upon you. But the waking up will be + like that of one buried alive in the bowels of the churchyard; there will + come remorse like that of the suicide who has committed the fatal act and + repents it;—'twill be a flash of lightning suddenly breaking in upon + the midnight darkness of your life! There will be one look, and, if you + can sustain that, I will admit that you have won! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (walking up and down restlessly). Cant! Priestly cant! + </p> + <p> + MOSER. Then, for the first time, will the sword of eternity pass through + your soul;—and then, for the first time, too late, the thought of + God will wake up a terrible monitor, whose name is Judge. Mark this, Moor; + a thousand lives hang upon your beck; and of those thousand every nine + hundred and ninety-nine have been rendered miserable by you. You wanted + but the Roman empire to be a Nero, the kingdom of Peru to be a Pizarro. + Now do you really think that the Almighty will suffer a worm like you to + play the tyrant in His world and to reverse all his ordinances? Do you + think the nine hundred and ninety-nine were created only to be destroyed, + only to serve as puppets in your diabolical game? Think it not! He will + call you to account for every minute of which you have robbed them, every + joy that you have poisoned, every perfection that you have intercepted. + Then, if you can answer Him—then, Moor, I will admit that you have + won. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. No more, not another word! Am I to be at the mercy of thy + drivelling fancies? + </p> + <p> + MOSER. Beware! The different destinies of mankind are balanced with + terrible nicety. The scale of life which sinks here will rise there, and + that which rises here will sink there. What was here temporary affliction + will there be eternal triumph; and what here was temporary triumph will + there be eternal despair. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (rushing savagely upon him.) May the thunder of heaven strike thee + dumb, thou lying spirit! I will tear thy venomed tongue out of thy mouth! + </p> + <p> + MOSER. Do you so soon feel the weight of truth? Before I have brought + forward one single word of evidence? Let me first proceed to the proofs— + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Silence! To hell with thee and thy proofs! The soul is + annihilated, I tell thee, and I will not be gainsaid! + </p> + <p> + MOSER. That is what the spirits of the bottomless pit are hourly moaning + for; but heaven denies the boon. Do you hope to escape from the Avenger's + arm even in the solitary waste of nothingness? If you climb up into + heaven, he is there! if you make your bed in hell, behold he is there + also! If you say to the night, "Hide me!" and to the darkness, "Cover me!" + even the night shall be light about you, and darkness blaze upon your + damned soul like a noonday sun. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. But I do not wish to be immortal—let them be so that like; + I have no desire to hinder them. I will force him to annihilate me; I will + so provoke his fury that he may utterly destroy me. Tell me which are the + greatest sins—which excite him to the most terrible wrath? + </p> + <p> + MOSER. I know but two. But men do not commit these, nor do men even dream + of them. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. What are they? + </p> + <p> + MOSER (very significantly). Parricide is the name of the one; fratricide + of the other. Why do you turn so suddenly pale? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. What, old man? Art thou in league with heaven or with hell? Who + told thee that? + </p> + <p> + MOSER. Woe to him that hath them both upon his soul! It were better for + that man that he had never been born! But be at peace; you have no longer + either a father or a brother! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Ha! what! Do you know no greater sin? Think again! Death, heaven, + eternity, damnation, hang upon thy lips. Not one greater? + </p> + <p> + MOSER. No, not one + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (falling back in a chair). Annihilation! annihilation! + </p> + <p> + MOSER. Rejoice, then, rejoice! Congratulate yourself! With all your + abominations you are yet a saint in comparison with a parricide. The curse + that falls upon you is a love ditty in comparison with the curse that lies + upon him. Retribution— + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (starting up). Away with thee! May the graves open and swallow + thee ten thousand fathoms deep, thou bird of ill omen! Who bade thee come + here? Away, I tell thee, or I will run thee through and through! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +MOSER. Can mere "priestly cant" excite a philosopher to such a pitch of +frenzy? Why not blow it away with a breath of your lips? + (Exit.) + + [FRANCIS throws himself about in his chair in + terrible agitation. Profound stillness.] + + Enter a SERVANT, hastily +</pre> + <p> + SERVANT. The Lady Amelia has fled. The count has suddenly disappeared. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter DANIEL, in great alarm. +</pre> + <p> + DANIEL. My lord, a troop of furious horsemen are galloping down the hill, + shouting "murder! murder!" The whole village is in alarm. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. Quick! let all the bells be tolled—summon everyone to the + chapel—let all fall on their knees—pray for me. All prisoners + shall be released and forgiven—I will make two and threefold + restitution to the poor—I will—why don't you run? Do call in + the father confessor, that he may give me absolution for my sins. What! + are you not gone yet? (The uproar becomes more audible.) + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Heaven have mercy upon me, poor sinner! Can I believe you in + earnest, sir? You, who always made a jest of religion? How many a Bible + and prayer-book have you flung at my bead when by chance you caught me at + my devotions? + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. No more of this. To die! think of it! to die! It will be too + late! (The voice of SCHWEITZER is heard, loud and furious.) Pray for me, + Daniel! Pray, I entreat you! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. I always told you,—"you hold prayer in such contempt; but + take heed! take heed! when the fatal hour comes, when the waters are + flowing in upon your soul, you will be ready to give all the treasures of + the world for one little Christian prayer." Do you see it now? What abuse + you used to heap on me! Now you feel it! Is it not so! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (embracing him violently). Forgive me! my dear precious jewel of a + Daniel, forgive me! I will clothe you from head to foot—do but pray. + I will make quite a bridegroom of you—I will—only do pray— + I entreat you—on my knees, I conjure you. In the devil's name, pray! + why don't you pray? (Tumult in the streets, shouts and noises.) + </p> + <p> + SCHWEIT. (in the street). Storm the place! Kill all before you! Force the + gates! I see lights! He must be there! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (on his knees). Listen to my prayer, O God in heaven! It is the + first time—it shall never happen again. Hear me, God in heaven! + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Mercy on me! What are you saying? What a wicked prayer! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Uproar of the PEOPLE, rushing in. +</pre> + <p> + PEOPLE. Robbers! murderers! Who makes such a dreadful noise at this + midnight hour! + </p> + <p> + SCHWEIT (still in the street). Beat them back, comrades! 'Tis the devil, + come to fetch your master. Where is Schwarz with his troop? Surround the + castle, Grimm! Scale the walls! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Bring the firebrands. Either we must up or he must down. I will + throw fire into his halls. + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (praying). Oh Lord! I have been no common murderer—I have + been guilty of no petty crimes, gracious Lord— + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Heaven be merciful to us! His very prayers are turned to sins. + (Stones and firebrands are hurled up from below; the windows fall in with + a crash; the castle takes fire.) + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. I cannot pray. Here! and here! (striking his breast and his + forehead) All is so void—so barren! (Rises from his knees.) No, I + will not pray. Heaven shall not have that triumph, nor hell that pastime. + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. O holy Virgin! Help! save! The whole castle is in flames! + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS. There, take this sword! Quick! Run it right through my body, that + these fiends may not be in time to make holiday sport of me. (The fire + increases.) + </p> + <p> + DANIEL. Heaven forbid? Heaven forbid! I would send no one before his time + to heaven, much less to—(He runs away). + </p> + <p> + FRANCIS (following him with a ghastly stare, after a pause). To hell, thou + wouldst say. Indeed! I scent something of the kind. (In delirium.) Are + these their triumphant yells? Do I hear you hissing, ye serpents of the + abyss? They force their way up—they besiege the door! Why do I + shrink from this biting steel? The door cracks—it yields—there + is no escape! Ha! then do thou have mercy upon me! (He tears away the + golden cord from his hat, and strangles himself.)* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[In the acting edition, Francis attempts to throw himself into the + flames, but is prevented by the robbers, and taken alive. He is + then brought before his brother, in chains, for sentence. + SCHWEITZER says, "I have fulfilled my word, and brought him alive." + GRIMM. "We tore him out of the flames and the castle is in ashes." + After confronting Francis with his father, and a reproachful + interview between the brothers, Charles delegates the judgment on + Francis to Schweitzer and Kosinsky, but for himself forgives him in + these words: "Thou hast robbed me of heaven's bliss! Be that sin + blotted out! Thy doom is sealed—perdition is thy lot! But I + forgive thee, brother." Upon this CHARLES embraces and leaves him; + the ROBBERS however, thrust FRANCIS into the dungeon where he had + immured his father, laughing in a savage manner. Beyond this the + fate of Francis is left undetermined. Schweitzer, instead of + killing himself, is made partaker, with Kosinsky, of Moor's + estate.] + + Enter SCHWEITZER and his band. +</pre> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Murderous wretch, where art thou? Did you see how they fled? + Has he so few friends? Where has the beast crawled to? + </p> + <p> + GRIMM (stumbles over the corpse). Stay! what is this lying in the way? + Lights here. + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. He has been beforehand with us. Put up your swords. There he lies + sprawling like a dead dog. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER. Dead! What! dead? Dead without me? 'Tis a lie, I say. Mark how + quickly he will spring upon his feet! (Shakes him). Hollo! up with you? + There is a father to be murdered. + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. Spare your pains. He is as dead as a log. + </p> + <p> + SCHWEITZER (steps aside from him). Yes, his game is up! He is dead! dead! + Go back and tell my captain he is as dead as a log. He will not see me + again. (Blows his brains out.) + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE II.—The scene the same as the last scene of the preceding Act. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OLD MOOR seated on a stone; CHARLES VON MOOR opposite; + ROBBERS scattered through the wood. +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. He does not come! (Strikes his dagger against a stone till the + sparks fly.) + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Let pardon be his punishment—redoubled love my vengeance. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. No! by my enraged soul that shall not be! I will not permit it. + He shall bear that enormous load of crime with him into eternity!— + what else should I kill him for? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR (bursting into tears). Oh my child! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What! you weep for him? In sight of this dungeon? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Mercy! oh mercy! (Wringing his hands violently.) Now—now + my son is brought to judgment! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (starting). Which son? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Ha! what means that question? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Nothing! nothing! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Art thou come to make a mockery of my grief? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Treacherous conscience! Take no heed of my words! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Yes, I persecuted a son, and a son persecutes me in return. It + is the finger of God. Oh my Charles! my Charles! If thou dost hover around + me in the realms of peace, forgive me! oh forgive me! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (hastily). He forgives you! (Checking himself.) If he is worthy to + be called your son, he must forgive you! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Ha! he was too noble a son for me. But I will go to him with my + tears, my sleepless nights, my racking dreams. I will embrace his knees, + and cry—cry aloud—"I have sinned against heaven and before + thee; I am no longer worthy to be called thy father!" + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (in deep emotion). Was he very dear to you—that other son? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Heaven is my witness, how much I loved him. Oh, why did I suffer + myself to be beguiled by the arts of a wicked son? I was an envied father + among the fathers of the world—my children full of promise, blooming + by my side! But—oh that fatal hour!—the demon of envy entered + into the heart of my younger son—I listened to the serpent—and—lost + both my children! (Hides his countenance.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (removes to a distance from him). Lost forever! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Oh, deeply do I feel the words of Amelia. The spirit of + vengeance spoke from her lips. "In vain wilt thou stretch forth thy dying + hands after a son, in vain fancy thou art grasping the warm hands of thy + Charles,—he will never more stand by thy bedside." + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (CHARLES stretches out his hand to him with averted face.) +</pre> + <p> + Oh, that this were the hand of my Charles! But he is laid far away in the + narrow house—he is sleeping the iron sleep—he hears not the + voice of my lamentation. Woe is me! to die in the arms of a stranger? No + son left—no son left to close my eyes! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (in violent emotion). It must be so—the moment has arrived. + Leave me—(to the ROBBERS.) And yet—can I restore his son to + him? Alas! No! I cannot restore him that son! No! I will not think of it. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Friend! what is that you were muttering? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Your son—yes, old man—(faltering) your son—is—lost + forever! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Forever? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (looking up to heaven in bitter anguish). Oh this once—keep + my soul from sinking—sustain me but this once! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Forever, did you say. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Ask no more! I said forever! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Stranger, stranger! why didst thou drag me forth from the + dungeon to remind me of my sorrows? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. And what if I were now to snatch his blessing?—snatch it + like a thief, and steal away with the precious prize? A father's blessing, + they say, is never lost. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. And is my Francis too lost? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (falling on his knees before him). 'Twas I who burst the bars of + your dungeon. I crave thy blessing! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR (sorrowfully). Oh that thou shouldst destroy the son!—thou, + the father's deliverer! Behold! Heaven's mercy is untiring, and we pitiful + worms let the sun go down upon our wrath. (Lays his hand upon the head of + CHARLES.) Be thou happy, even as thou shalt be merciful! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (rising much affected). Oh!—where is my manhood? My sinews + are unstrung—the sword drops from my hand. + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. How lovely a thing it is when brethren dwell together in unity; + as the dewdrops of heaven that fall upon the mountains of Zion. Learn to + deserve that happiness, young man, and the angels of heaven will sun + themselves in thy glory. Let thy wisdom be the wisdom of gray hairs, but + let thy heart be the heart of innocent childhood. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Oh, for a foretaste of that happiness! Kiss me, divine old man! + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR (kissing him). Think it thy father's kiss; and I will think I am + kissing my son. Canst thou too weep? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. I felt as if it were my father's kiss! Woe unto me, were they to + bring him now! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (The companions of SCHWEITZER enter in a silent and mournful + procession, hanging down their heads and hiding their faces.) +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. Good heaven! (Retreats horror-struck, and seeks to hide himself. + They pass by him his face is averted. Profound silence. They halt.) + </p> + <p> + GRIMM (in a subdued tone). My captain! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [CHARLES does not answer and steps farther back.] +</pre> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Dear captain! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [CHARLES retreats still farther.] +</pre> + <p> + GRIMM. 'Tis not our fault, captain! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (without looking at them). Who are ye? + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. You do not look at us! Your faithful followers. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Woe to ye, if ye are faithful to me! + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. The last farewell from your servant Schweitzer!— + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (starting). Then ye have not found him? + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Found him dead. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (leaping up with joy). Thanks, O Sovereign Ruler of all things! + —Embrace me, my children!—Mercy be henceforward our watchword!—Now, + were that too surmounted,—all would be surmounted. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Enter ROBBERS with AMELIA. +</pre> + <p> + ROBBERS. Hurrah! hurrah! A prize, a splendid prize! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (with hair dishevelled). The dead, they cry, have arisen at his + voice—My uncle alive—in this wood—Where is he? Charles? + Uncle!—Ha? (She rushes into the arms, of OLD MOOR.) + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR. Amelia! my daughter! Amelia! (Holds her tightly grasped in his + arms.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (starting back). Who brings this image before my eyes. + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (tearing herself away from the old man, rushes upon CHARLES, and + embraces him in an ecstasy of delight). I have him, O ye stars! I have + him! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (tearing himself away, to the ROBBERS). Let us be gone, comrades! + The arch fiend has betrayed me! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. My bridegroom, my bridegroom! thou art raving! Ha! 'Tis with + delight! Why, then, am I so cold, so unfeeling, in the midst of this + tumult of happiness? + </p> + <p> + OLD MOOR (rousing himself). Bridegroom? Daughter! my daughter! Thy + bridegroom?* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[Instead of this the stage edition has, "Come my children! Thy + hand, Charles—and thine, Amelia. Oh! I never looked for such + happiness on this side the grave. Here let me unite you forever."] +</pre> + <p> + AMELIA. His forever! He forever, ever, mine! Oh! ye heavenly powers! + support me in this ecstasy of bliss, lest I sink beneath its weight! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Tear her from my neck! Kill her! Kill him! Kill me— + yourselves—everybody! Let the whole world perish! (About to rush + of.) + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Whither? what? Love! eternity! happiness! never-ending joys! and + thou wouldst fly? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Away, away! most unfortunate of brides! See with thine own eves; + ask, and hear it with thine own ears! Most miserable of fathers! Let me + escape hence forever! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Support me! for heaven's sake support me! It is growing dark + before my eyes! He flies! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Too late! In vain! Your curse, father! Ask me no more! I am—I + have—your curse—your supposed curse! Who enticed me hither? + (Rushing upon the ROBBERS with drawn sword.) Which of you enticed me + hither, ye demons of the abyss? Perish, then, Amelia! Die, father! Die, + for the third time, through me! These, thy deliverers, are Robbers and + Murderers! Thy Charles is their Captain! (OLD MOOR expires.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + [AMELIA stands silent and transfixed like a statue. + The whole band are mute. A fearful pause.] +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES (rushing against an oak). The souls of those I have strangled in + the intoxication of love—of those whom I crushed to atoms in the + sacredness of sleep—of those whom—Ha! ha! ha! do you hear the + powder-magazine bursting over the heads of women in travail? Do you see + the flames creeping round the cradles of sucklings? That is our nuptial + torch; those shrieks our wedding music! Oh! he forgetteth none of these + things!—he knoweth how to connect the—links in the chain of + life. Therefore do love's delights elude my grasp; therefore is love given + me for a torment! This is retribution! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. 'Tis all true! Thou Ruler in heaven! 'Tis all true! What have I + done, poor innocent lamb? I have loved this man! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. This is more than a man can endure. Have I not heard death + hissing at me from more thousands of barrels, and never yet moved a hair's + breadth out of its way. And shall I now be taught to tremble like a woman? + tremble before a woman! No! a woman shall not conquer my manly courage! + Blood! blood! 'tis but a fit of womanish feeling. I must glut myself with + blood; and this will pass away. (He is about to fly.) + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (sinking into his arms). Murderer! devil! I cannot—angel— + leave thee! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (thrusting her from him). Away! insidious serpent! Thou wouldst + make a mockery of my frenzy; but I will bid defiance to my tyrant destiny. + What! art thou weeping? O ye relentless, malicious stars! She pretends to + weep, as if any soul could weep for me! (AMELIA falls on his neck.) Ha! + what means this? She shuns me not—she spurns me not. Amelia! hast + thou then forgotten? Dost thou remember whom thou art embracing, Amelia? + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. My only one, mine, mine forever! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (recovering himself in an ecstasy of joy). She forgives me, she + loves me! Then am I pure as the ether of heaven, for she loves me! With + tears I thank thee, all-merciful Father! (He falls on his knees, and + bursts into a violent fit of weeping.) The peace of my soul is restored; + my sufferings are at an end. Hell is no more! Behold! oh behold! the child + of light weeps on the neck of a repentant demon! (Rising and turning to + the ROBBERS). Why are ye not weeping also? Weep, weep, ye are all so + happy. O Amelia! Amelia! Amelia! (He hangs on her neck, they remain locked + in a silent embrace.) + </p> + <p> + A ROBBER (stepping forward enraged). Hold, traitor! This instant come from + her arms! or I will speak a word that shall make thy ears tingle, and thy + teeth chatter with horror! (He holds his sword between them.) + </p> + <p> + AN AGED ROBBER. Remember the Bohemian forests! Dost thou hear? dost thou + tremble? Remember the Bohemian forests, I tell thee! Faithless man! where + are thy oaths? Are wounds so soon forgotten? Who staked fortune, honor, + life itself for thee? Who stood by thee like walls, and like shields + caught the blows which were aimed at thy life? Didst not thou then lift up + thy hand and swear an iron oath never to forsake us, even as we forsook + not thee? Base, perfidious wretch! and wouldst thou now desert us at the + whining of a harlot? + </p> + <p> + A THIRD ROBBER. Shame on thy perjury! The spirit of the immolated Roller, + whom thou didst summon from the realms of death to attest thy oath, will + blush at thy cowardice, and rise from his grave full armed to chastise + thee. + </p> + <p> + THE ROBBERS (all in disorder, tearing open their garments). See here! and + here! Dost thou know these scars? Thou art ours! With our heart's blood we + have bought thee, and thou art ours bodily, even though the Archangel + Michael should seek to wrest thee out of the grasp of the fiery Moloch! + Now! March with us! Sacrifice for sacrifice, Amelia for the band! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (releasing her hand). It is past! I would arise and return to my + father; but heaven has said, "It shall not be!" (Coldly.) Blind fool that + I was! why should I wish it? Is it possible for a great sinner to return? + A great sinner never can return. That ought I long since to have known. Be + still! I pray thee be still! 'Tis all as it should be. When He sought me I + would not; now that I seek him, He will not. What can be more just? Do not + roll about thine eyes so wildly. He—has no need of me. Has He not + creatures in abundance? One he can easily spare, and that one am I. Come + along, comrades! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (pulling him back). Stay, I beseech you! One blow! one deadly blow! + Again forsaken! Draw thy sword, and have mercy upon me! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Mercy has taken refuge among bears. I will not kill thee! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA (embracing his knees). Oh, for heaven's sake! by all that is + merciful! I ask no longer for love. I know that our stars fly from each + other in opposition. Death is all I ask. Forsaken, forsaken! Take that + word in all its dreadful import! Forsaken! I cannot survive it! Thou + knowest well that no woman can survive that. All I ask is death. See, my + hand trembles! I have not courage to strike the blow. I shrink from the + gleaming blade! To thee it is so easy, so very easy; thou art a master in + murder—draw thy sword, and make me happy! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Wouldst thou alone be happy? Away with thee! I will kill no + woman! + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. Ha! destroyer! thou canst only kill the happy; they who are weary + of existence thou sparest! (She glides towards the robbers.) Then do ye + have mercy on me, disciples of murder! There lurks a bloodthirsty pity in + your looks that is consoling to the wretched. Your master is a boaster and + a coward. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Woman, what dost thou say? (The ROBBERS turn away.) + </p> + <p> + AMELIA. No friend? No; not even among these a friend? (She rises.) Well, + then, let Dido teach me how to die! (She is going; a ROBBER takes aim at + her.) + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Hold! dare it! Moor's Amelia shall die by no other hand than + Moor's. (He strikes her dead.) + </p> + <p> + THE ROBBERS. Captain! captain! what hast thou done? Art thou raving? + </p> + <p> + CHARLES (with his eyes fixed on the body). One more pang and all will be + over. She is immolated! Now, look on! have you any farther demand? Ye + staked a life for me, a life which has ceased to be your own—a life + full of infamy and shame! I have sacrificed an angel for you. Now! look + upon her! Are you content? + </p> + <p> + GRIMM. You have repaid your debt with usury. You have done all that man + could do for his honor, and more. Now let's away. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. What say you? Is not the life of a saint for the life of a felon + more than an equal exchange? Oh! I say unto you if every one of you were + to—mount the scaffold, and to have his flesh torn from his bones + piecemeal with red-hot pincers, through eleven long summer days of + torture, yet would it not counterbalance these tears! (With a bitter + laugh.) The scars! the Bohemian forests! Yes, yes! they must be repaid, of + course! + </p> + <p> + SCHWARZ. Compose yourself, captain! Come along with us! this is no sight + for you. Lead us elsewhere! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Stay! one word more before we proceed elsewhere. Mark me, ye + malicious executioners of my barbarous nod! from this moment I cease to be + your captain.* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[The acting edition reads,—"Banditti! we are quits. This + bleeding corpse cancels my bond to you forever. From your own I + set you free." ROBBERS. "We are again your slaves till death!" + CHARLES. "No, no, no! We have done with each other. My genius + whispers me, 'Go no further, Moor. Here is the goal of humanity— + and thine!' Take back this bloody plume (throws it at their feet). + Let him who seeks to be your captain take it up."] +</pre> + <p> + With shame and horror I here lay down the bloody staff, under which you + thought yourselves licensed to perpetrate your crimes and to defile the + fair light of heaven with deeds of darkness. Depart to the right and to + the left. We shall never more have aught in common. + </p> + <p> + THE ROBBERS. Ha! coward! where are thy lofty schemes? were they but + soap-bubbles, which disperse at the breath of a woman?* + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + *[In lieu of this soliloquy and what follows, to the end, the + acting edition has:— + + R. MOOR. Dare not to scrutinize the acts of Moor. That is my last + command. Now, draw near—form a circle around me, and receive the + last words of your dying captain. (He surveys them attentively for + some time.) You have been devotedly faithful to me, faithful + beyond example. Had virtue bound you together as firmly as vice, + you would have been heroes, and your names recorded by mankind with + admiration. Go and offer your services to the state. Dedicate + your talents to the cause of a monarch who is waging war in + vindication of the rights of man. With this blessing I disband + you. Schweitzer and Kosinsky, do you stay. (The others disperse + slowly, with signs of emotion.)] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE VIII. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + R. MOOR, SCRWETTZER, and KOSINSKY. + + R. MOOR. Give me thy right hand, Kosinsky—Schweitzer thy left. + (He takes their hands, and stands between, them; to KOSINSKY,) + Young man, thou art still pure-amongst the guilty thou alone art + guiltless! (To SCHWEITZER.) Deeply have I imbrued thy hand in + blood. 'Tis I who have done this. With this cordial grasp I take + back mine own. Schweitzer! thou art purified! (He raises their + hands fervently to heaven.) Father in heaven! here I restore them + to thee. They will be more devoted to thy service than those who + never fell. Of that I feel assured. (SCHWEITZER and KOSINSKY fall + on his neck with fervor.) Not now—not now, dear comrades. Spare + my feelings in this trying hour. An earldom has this day fallen to + my lot—a rich domain on which no malediction rests. Share it + between you, my children; become good citizens; and if for ten + human beings that I have destroyed you make but one happy, my soul + may yet be saved. Go—no farewell! In another world we may meet + again—or perhaps no more. Away! away! ere my fortitude desert me. + [Exeunt both, with downcast countenances.] +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SCENE IX. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + And I, too, am a good citizen. Do I not fulfil the extremity of + the law? Do I not honor the law? Do I not uphold and defend it? + I remember speaking to a poor officer on my way hither, who was + toiling as a day-laborer, and has eleven living children. A + thousand ducats have been offered to whoever shall deliver up the + great robber alive. That man shall be served. [Exit.] +</pre> + <p> + CHARLES. Oh! fool that I was, to fancy that I could amend the world by + misdeeds and maintain law by lawlessness! I called it vengeance and + equity. I presumed, O Providence! upon whetting out the notches of thy + sword and repairing thy partialities. But, oh, vain trifling! here I stand + on the brink of a fearful life, and learn, with wailing and gnashing of + teeth, that two men like myself could ruin the whole edifice of the moral + world. Pardon—pardon the boy who thought to forestall Thee; to Thee + alone belongeth vengeance; Thou needest not the hand of man! But it is not + in my power to recall the past; that which is ruined remains ruined; what + I have thrown down will never more rise up again. Yet one thing is left me + whereby I may atone to the offended majesty of the law and restore the + order which I have violated. A victim is required—a victim to + declare before all mankind how inviolable that majesty is—that + victim shall be myself. I will be the death-offering! + </p> + <p> + ROBBERS. Take his sword from him—he will kill himself. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Fools that ye are! doomed to eternal blindness! Think ye that one + mortal sin will expiate other mortal sins? Do you suppose that the harmony + of the world would be promoted by such an impious discord? (Throwing his + arms at their feet.) He shall have me alive. I go to deliver myself into + the hands of justice. + </p> + <p> + ROBBERS. Put him in chains! he has lost his senses! + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. Not that I have any doubt but that justice would find me speedily + enough if the powers above so ordained it. But she might surprise me in + sleep, or overtake me in flight, or seize me with violence and the sword, + and then I should have lost the only merit left me, that of making my + death a free-will atonement. Why should I, like a thief, any longer + conceal a life, which in the counsels of the heavenly ministry has long + been forfeited? + </p> + <p> + ROBBERS. Let him go. He is infected with the great-man-mania; he means to + offer up his life for empty admiration. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES. I might, 'tis true, be admired for it. (After a moment's + reflection.) I remember, on my way hither, talking to a poor creature, a + day-laborer, with eleven living children. A reward has been offered of a + thousand louis-d'ors to any one who shall deliver up the great robber + alive. That man shall be served.<br /> [Exit.] + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Robbers, by Friedrich Schiller + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROBBERS *** + +***** This file should be named 6782-h.htm or 6782-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.net/6/7/8/6782/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + +Title: The Robbers + +Author: Frederich Schiller + +Release Date: Oct, 2004 [EBook #6782] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on January 15, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROBBERS BY SCHILLER *** + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger, widger@cecomet.net + + + + + + THE ROBBERS. + + + By Frederich Schiller + + + + +SCHILLER'S PREFACE. + +AS PREFIXED TO THE FIRST EDITION OF THE ROBBERS + +PUBLISHED IN 1781. + +Now first translated into English. + +This play is to be regarded merely as a dramatic narrative in which, for +the purpose of tracing out the innermost workings of the soul, advantage +has been taken of the dramatic method, without otherwise conforming to +the stringent rules of theatrical composition, or seeking the dubious +advantage of stage adaptation. It must be admitted as somewhat +inconsistent that three very remarkable people, whose acts are dependent +on perhaps a thousand contingencies, should be completely developed +within three hours, considering that it would scarcely be possible, in +the ordinary course of events, that three such remarkable people should, +even in twenty-four hours, fully reveal their characters to the most +penetrating inquirer. A greater amount of incident is here crowded +together than it was possible for me to confine within the narrow limits +prescribed by Aristotle and Batteux. + +It is, however, not so much the bulk of my play as its contents which +banish it from the stage. Its scheme and economy require that several +characters should appear who would offend the finer feelings of virtue +and shock the delicacy of our manners. Every delineator of human +character is placed in the same dilemma if he proposes to give a +faithful picture of the world as it really is, and not an ideal +phantasy, a mere creation of his own. It is the course of mortal things +that the good should be shadowed by the bad, and virtue shine the +brightest when contrasted with vice. Whoever proposes to discourage +vice and to vindicate religion, morality, and social order against their +enemies, must unveil crime in all its deformity, and place it before the +eyes of men in its colossal magnitude; he must diligently explore its +dark mazes, and make himself familiar with sentiments at the wickedness +of which his soul revolts. + +Vice is here exposed in its innermost workings. In Francis it resolves +all the confused terrors of conscience into wild abstractions, destroys +virtuous sentiments by dissecting them, and holds up the earnest voice +of religion to mockery and scorn. He who has gone so far (a distinction +by no means enviable) as to quicken his understanding at the expense of +his soul--to him the holiest things are no longer holy; to him God and +man are alike indifferent, and both worlds are as nothing. Of such a +monster I have endeavored to sketch a striking and lifelike portrait, +to hold up to abhorrence all the machinery of his scheme of vice, and to +test its strength by contrasting it with truth. How far my narrative is +successful in accomplishing these objects the reader is left to judge. +My conviction is that I have painted nature to the life. + +Next to this man (Francis) stands another who would perhaps puzzle not +a few of my readers. A mind for which the greatest crimes have only +charms through the glory which attaches to them, the energy which their +perpetration requires, and the dangers which attend them. A remarkable +and important personage, abundantly endowed with the power of becoming +either a Brutus or a Catiline, according as that power is directed. An +unhappy conjunction of circumstances determines him to choose the latter +for, his example, and it is only after a fearful straying that he is +recalled to emulate the former. Erroneous notions of activity and +power, an exuberance of strength which bursts through all the barriers +of law, must of necessity conflict with the rules of social life. To +these enthusiast dreams of greatness and efficiency it needed but a +sarcastic bitterness against the unpoetic spirit of the age to complete +the strange Don Quixote whom, in the Robber Moor, we at once detest and +love, admire and pity. It is, I hope, unnecessary to remark that I no +more hold up this picture as a warning exclusively to robbers than the +greatest Spanish satire was levelled exclusively at knight-errants. + +It is nowadays so much the fashion to be witty at the expense of +religion that a man will hardly pass for a genius if he does not allow +his impious satire to run a tilt at its most sacred truths. The noble +simplicity of holy writ must needs be abused and turned into ridicule at +the daily assemblies of the so-called wits; for what is there so holy +and serious that will not raise a laugh if a false sense be attached to +it? Let me hope that I shall have rendered no inconsiderable service +to the cause of true religion and morality in holding up these wanton +misbelievers to the detestation of society, under the form of the most +despicable robbers. + +But still more. I have made these said immoral characters to stand out +favorably in particular points, and even in some measure to compensate +by qualities of the head for what they are deficient in those of the +heart. Herein I have done no more than literally copy nature. Every +man, even the most depraved, bears in some degree the impress of the +Almighty's image, and perhaps the greatest villain is not farther +removed from the most upright man than the petty offender; for the moral +forces keep even pace with the powers of the mind, and the greater the +capacity bestowed on man, the greater and more enormous becomes his +misapplication of it; the more responsible is he for his errors. + +The "Adramelech" of Klopstock (in his Messiah) awakens in us a feeling +in which admiration is blended with detestation. We follow Milton's +Satan with shuddering wonder through the pathless realms of chaos. The +Medea of the old dramatists is, in spite of all her crimes, a great and +wondrous woman, and Shakespeare's Richard III. is sure to excite the +admiration of the reader, much as he would hate the reality. If it is +to be my task to portray men as they are, I must at the same time +include their good qualities, of which even the most vicious are never +totally destitute. If I would warn mankind against the tiger, I must +not omit to describe his glossy, beautifully-marked skin, lest, owing to +this omission, the ferocious animal should not be recognized till too +late. Besides this, a man who is so utterly depraved as to be without a +single redeeming point is no meet subject for art, and would disgust +rather than excite the interest of the reader; who would turn over with +impatience the pages which concern him. A noble soul can no more endure +a succession of moral discords than the musical ear the grating of +knives upon glass. + +And for this reason I should have been ill-advised in attempting to +bring my drama on the stage. A certain strength of mind is required +both on the part of the poet and the reader; in the former that he may +not disguise vice, in the latter that he may not suffer brilliant +qualities to beguile him into admiration of what is essentially +detestable. Whether the author has fulfilled his duty he leaves others +to judge, that his readers will perform theirs he by no means feels +assured. The vulgar--among whom I would not be understood to mean +merely the rabble--the vulgar I say (between ourselves) extend their +influence far around, and unfortunately--set the fashion. Too +shortsighted to reach my full meaning, too narrow-minded to comprehend +the largeness of my views, too disingenuous to admit my moral aim--they +will, I fear, almost frustrate my good intentions, and pretend to +discover in my work an apology for the very vice which it has been my +object to condemn, and will perhaps make the poor poet, to whom anything +rather than justice is usually accorded, responsible for his simplicity. + +Thus we have a /Da capo/ of the old story of Democritus and the +Abderitans, and our worthy Hippocrates would needs exhaust whole +plantations of hellebore, were it proposed to remedy this mischief by a +healing decoction. + + [This alludes to the fable amusingly recorded by Wieland in his + Geschichte der Abderiten. The Abderitans, who were a byword among + the ancients for their extreme simplicity, are said to have sent + express for Hipocrates to cure their great townsman Democritus, + whom they believed to be out of his senses, because his sayings + were beyond their comprehension. Hippocrates, on conversing with + Democritus, having at once discovered that the cause lay with + themselves, assembled the senate and principal inhabitants in the + market-place with the promise of instructing them in the cure of + Democritus. He then banteringly advised them to import six + shiploads of hellebore of the very best quality, and on its arrival + to distribute it among the citizens, at least seven pounds per + head, but to the senators double that quantity, as they were bound + to have an extra supply of sense. By the time these worthies + discovered that they had been laughed at, Hippocrates was out of + their reach. The story in Wieland is infinitely more amusing than + this short quotation from memory enables me to show. H. G. B.] + +Let as many friends of truth as you will, instruct their fellow-citizens +in the pulpit and on the stage, the vulgar will never cease to be +vulgar, though the sun and moon may change their course, and "heaven and +earth wax old as a garment." Perhaps, in order to please tender-hearted +people, I might have been less true to nature; but if a certain beetle, +of whom we have all heard, could extract filth even from pearls, if we +have examples that fire has destroyed and water deluged, shall therefore +pearls, fire, and water be condemned. In consequence of the remarkable +catastrophe which ends my play, I may justly claim for it a place among +books of morality, for crime meets at last with the punishment it +deserves; the lost one enters again within the pale of the law, and +virtue is triumphant. Whoever will but be courteous enough towards me +to read my work through with a desire to understand it, from him I may +expect--not that he will admire the poet, but that he will esteem the +honest man. + SCHILLER. +EASTER FAIR, 1781. + + + + +ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ROBBERS. + +AS COMMUNICATED BY SCHILLER TO DALBERG IN 1781, AND SUPPOSED TO HAVE +BEEN USED AS A PROLOGUE. + +--This has never before been printed with any of the editions.-- + +The picture of a great, misguided soul, endowed with every gift of +excellence; yet lost in spite of all its gifts! Unbridled passions and +bad companionship corrupt his heart, urge him on from crime to crime, +until at last he stands at the head of a band of murderers, heaps horror +upon horror, and plunges from precipice to precipice into the lowest +depths of despair. Great and majestic in misfortune, by misfortune +reclaimed, and led back to the paths of virtue. Such a man shall you +pity and hate, abhor yet love, in the Robber Moor. You will likewise +see a juggling, fiendish knave unmasked and blown to atoms in his own +mines; a fond, weak, and over-indulgent father; the sorrows of too +enthusiastic love, and the tortures of ungoverned passion. Here, too, +you will witness, not without a shudder, the interior economy of vice; +and from the stage be taught how all the tinsel of fortune fails to +smother the inward worm; and how terror, anguish, remorse, and despair +tread close on the footsteps of guilt. Let the spectator weep to-day at +our exhibition, and tremble, and learn to bend his passions to the laws +of religion and reason; let the youth behold with alarm the consequences +of unbridled excess; nor let the man depart without imbibing the lesson +that the invisible band of Providence makes even villains the +instruments of its designs and judgments, and can marvellously unravel +the most intricate perplexities of fate. + + + + +PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. + +The eight hundred copies of the first edition of my ROBBERS were +exhausted before all the admirers of the piece were supplied. A second +was therefore undertaken, which has been improved by greater care in +printing, and by the omission of those equivocal sentences which were +offensive to the more fastidious part of the public. Such an +alteration, however, in the construction of the play as should satisfy +all the wishes of my friends and critics has not been my object. + +In this second edition the several songs have been arranged for the +pianoforte, which will enhance its value to the musical part of the +public. I am indebted for this to an able composer,* who has performed +his task in so masterly a manner that the hearer is not unlikely to +forget the poet in the melody of the musician. + + DR. SCHILLER. + +STUTTGART, Jan. 5, 1782. + +* Alluding to his friend Zumsteeg.--ED. + + + + + THE ROBBERS. + + A TRAGEDY. + + "Quae medicamenta non sanant, ferrum sanat; quae ferrum non + sanat, ignis sanat."--HIPPOCRATES. + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + +MAXIMILIAN, COUNT VON MOOR. + +CHARLES,| +FRANCIS,| his Sons. +AMELIA VON EDELREICH, his Niece. +SPIEGELBERG,| +SCHWEITZER, | +GRIMM, | +RAZMANN, | Libertines, afterwards Banditti +SCHUFTERLE, | +ROLLER, | +KOSINSKY, | +SCHWARTZ, | +HERMANN, the natural son of a Nobleman. +DANIEL, an old Servant of Count von Moor. +PASTOR MOSER. +FATHER DOMINIC, a Monk. +BAND OF ROBBERS, SERVANTS, ETC. + + +The scene is laid in Germany. Period of action about two years. + + + + + THE ROBBERS + + ACT I. + + + SCENE I.--Franconia. + + Apartment in the Castle of COUNT MOOR. + + FRANCIS, OLD MOOR. + + +FRANCIS. But are you really well, father? You look so pale. + +OLD MOOR. Quite well, my son--what have you to tell me? + +FRANCIS. The post is arrived--a letter from our correspondent at +Leipsic. + +OLD M. (eagerly). Any tidings of my son Charles? + +FRANCIS. Hem! Hem!--Why, yes. But I fear--I know not--whether I dare +--your health.--Are you really quite well, father? + +OLD M. As a fish in water.* Does he write of my son? What means this +anxiety about my health? You have asked me that question twice. + + [*This is equivalent to our English saying "As sound as a roach."] + +FRANCIS. If you are unwell--or are the least apprehensive of being so-- +permit me to defer--I will speak to you at a fitter season.--(Half +aside.) These are no tidings for a feeble frame. + +OLD M. Gracious Heavens? what am I doomed to hear? + +FRANCIS. First let me retire and shed a tear of compassion for my lost +brother. Would that my lips might be forever sealed--for he is your +son! Would that I could throw an eternal veil over his shame--for he is +my brother! But to obey you is my first, though painful, duty--forgive +me, therefore. + +OLD M. Oh, Charles! Charles! Didst thou but know what thorns thou +plantest in thy father's bosom! That one gladdening report of thee would +add ten years to my life! yes, bring back my youth! whilst now, alas, +each fresh intelligence but hurries me a step nearer to the grave! + +FRANCIS. Is it so, old man, then farewell! for even this very day we +might all have to tear our hair over your coffin.* + + [* This idiom is very common in Germany, and is used to express + affliction.] + +OLD M. Stay! There remains but one short step more--let him have his +will! (He sits down.) The sins of the father shall be visited unto the +third and fourth generation--let him fulfil the decree. + +FRANCIS (takes the letter out of his pocket). You know our +correspondent! See! I would give a finger of my right hand might I +pronounce him a liar--a base and slanderous liar! Compose yourself! +Forgive me if I do not let you read the letter yourself. You cannot, +must not, yet know all. + +OLD M. All, all, my son. You will but spare me crutches.* + + [* /Du ersparst mir die Krucke/; meaning that the contents of the + letter can but shorten his declining years, and so spare him the + necessity of crutches.] + +FRANCIS (reads). "Leipsic, May 1. Were I not bound by an inviolable +promise to conceal nothing from you, not even the smallest particular, +that I am able to collect, respecting your brother's career, never, my +dearest friend, should my guiltless pen become an instrument of torture +to you. I can gather from a hundred of your letters how tidings such as +these must pierce your fraternal heart. It seems to me as though I saw +thee, for the sake of this worthless, this detestable"--(OLD M. covers +his face). Oh! my father, I am only reading you the mildest passages-- +"this detestable man, shedding a thousand tears." Alas! mine flowed--ay, +gushed in torrents over these pitying cheeks. "I already picture to +myself your aged pious father, pale as death." Good Heavens! and so you +are, before you have heard anything. + +OLD M. Go on! Go on! + +FRANCIS. "Pale as death, sinking down on his chair, and cursing the day +when his ear was first greeted with the lisping cry of 'Father!' I have +not yet been able to discover all, and of the little I do know I dare +tell you only a part. Your brother now seems to have filled up the +measure of his infamy. I, at least, can imagine nothing beyond what he +has already accomplished; but possibly his genius may soar above my +conceptions. After having contracted debts to the amount of forty +thousand ducats,"--a good round sum for pocket-money, father" and having +dishonored the daughter of a rich banker, whose affianced lover, a +gallant youth of rank, he mortally wounded in a duel, he yesterday, in +the dead of night, took the desperate resolution of absconding from the +arm of justice, with seven companions whom he had corrupted to his own +vicious courses." Father? for heaven's sake, father! How do you feel? + +OLD M. Enough. No more, my son, no more! + +FRANCIS. I will spare your feelings. "The injured cry aloud for +satisfaction. Warrants have been issued for his apprehension--a price +is set on his head--the name of Moor"--No, these unhappy lips shall not +be guilty of a father's murder (he tears the letter). Believe it not, +my father, believe not a syllable. + +OLD M. (weeps bitterly). My name--my unsullied name! + +FRANCIS (throws himself on his neck). Infamous! most infamous Charles! +Oh, had I not my forebodings, when, even as a boy, he would scamper +after the girls, and ramble about over hill and common with ragamuffin +boys and all the vilest rabble; when he shunned the very sight of a +church as a malefactor shuns a gaol, and would throw the pence he had +wrung from your bounty into the hat of the first beggar he met, whilst +we at home were edifying ourselves with devout prayers and pious +homilies? Had I not my misgivings when he gave himself up to reading +the adventures of Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, and other +benighted heathens, in preference to the history of the penitent Tobias? +A hundred times over have I warned you--for my brotherly affection was +ever kept in subjection to filial duty--that this forward youth would +one day bring sorrow and disgrace on us all. Oh that he bore not the +name of Moor! that my heart beat less warmly for him! This sinful +affection, which I can not overcome, will one day rise up against me +before the judgment-seat of heaven. + +OLD M. Oh! my prospects! my golden dreams! + +FRANCIS. Ay, well I knew it. Exactly what I always feared. That fiery +spirit, you used to say, which is kindling in the boy, and renders him +so susceptible to impressions of the beautiful and grand--the +ingenuousness which reveals his whole soul in his eyes--the tenderness +of feeling which melts him into weeping sympathy at every tale of +sorrow--the manly courage which impels him to the summit of giant oaks, +and urges him over fosse and palisade and foaming torrents--that +youthful thirst of honor--that unconquerable resolution--all those +resplendent virtues which in the father's darling gave such promise-- +would ripen into the warm and sincere friend--the excellent citizen--the +hero--the great, the very great man! Now, mark the result, father; the +fiery spirit has developed itself--expanded--and behold its precious +fruits. Observe this ingenuousness--how nicely it has changed into +effrontery;--this tenderness of soul--how it displays itself in +dalliance with coquettes, in susceptibility to the blandishments of a +courtesan! See this fiery genius, how in six short years it hath burnt +out the oil of life, and reduced his body to a living skeleton; so that +passing scoffers point at him with a sneer and exclaim--"/C'est l'amour +qui a fait cela/." Behold this bold, enterpising spirit--how it +conceives and executes plans, compared to which the deeds of a Cartouche +or a Howard sink into insignificance. And presently, when these +precious germs of excellence shall ripen into full maturity, what may +not be expected from the full development of such a boyhood? Perhaps, +father, you may yet live to see him at the head of some gallant band, +which assembles in the silent sanctuary of the forest, and kindly +relieves the weary traveller of his superfluous burden. Perhaps you may +yet have the opportunity, before you go to your own tomb, of making a +pilgrimage to the monument which he may erect for himself, somewhere +between earth and heaven! Perhaps,--oh, father--father, look out for +some other name, or the very peddlers and street boys who have seen the +effigy of your worthy son exhibited in the market-place at Leipsic will +point at you with the finger of scorn! + +OLD M. And thou, too, my Francis, thou too? Oh, my children, how +unerringly your shafts are levelled at my heart. + +FRANCIS. You see that I too have a spirit; but my spirit bears the +sting of a scorpion. And then it was "the dry commonplace, the cold, +the wooden Francis," and all the pretty little epithets which the +contrast between us suggested to your fatherly affection, when he was +sitting on your knee, or playfully patting your cheeks? "He would die, +forsooth, within the boundaries of his own domain, moulder away, and +soon be forgotten;" while the fame of this universal genius would spread +from pole to pole! Ah! the cold, dull, wooden Francis thanks thee, +heaven, with uplifted hands, that he bears no resemblance to his +brother. + +OLD M. Forgive me, my child! Reproach not thy unhappy father, whose +fondest hopes have proved visionary. The merciful God who, through +Charles, has sent these tears, will, through thee, my Francis, wipe them +from my eyes! + +FRANCIS. Yes, father, we will wipe them from your eyes. Your Francis +will devote--his life to prolong yours. (Taking his hand with affected +tenderness.) Your life is the oracle which I will especially consult on +every undertaking--the mirror in which I will contemplate everything. +No duty so sacred but I am ready to violate it for the preservation of +your precious days. You believe me? + +OLD M. Great are the duties which devolve on thee, my son--Heaven bless +thee for what thou has been, and wilt be to me. + +FRANCIS. Now tell me frankly, father. Should you not be a happy man, +were you not obliged to call this son your own? + +OLD M. In mercy, spare me! When the nurse first placed him in my arms, +I held him up to Heaven and exclaimed, "Am I not truly blest?" + +FRANCIS. So you said then. Now, have you found it so? You may envy +the meanest peasant on your estate in this, that he is not the father of +such a son. So long as you call him yours you are wretched. Your +misery will grow with his years--it will lay you in your grave. + +OLD M. Oh! he has already reduced me to the decrepitude of fourscore. + +FRANCIS. Well, then--suppose you were to disown this son. + +OLD M. (startled). Francis! Francis! what hast thou said! + +FRANCIS. Is not your love for him the source of all your grief? Root +out this love, and he concerns you no longer. But for this weak and +reprehensible affection he would be dead to you;--as though he had never +been born. It is not flesh and blood, it is the heart that makes us +sons and fathers! Love him no more, and this monster ceases to be your +son, though he were cut out of your flesh. He has till now been the +apple of your eye; but if thine eye offend you, says Scripture, pluck it +out. It is better to enter heaven with one eye than hell with two! "It +is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not +that thy whole body should be cast into hell." These are the words of +the Bible! + +OLD M. Wouldst thou have me curse my son? + +FRANCIS. By no means, father. God forbid! But whom do you call your +son? Him to whom you have given life, and who in return does his utmost +to shorten yours. + +OLD M. Oh, it is all too true! it is a judgment upon me. The Lord has +chosen him as his instrument. + +FRANCIS. See how filially your bosom child behaves. He destroys you by +your own excess of paternal sympathy; murders you by means of the very +love you bear him--has coiled round a father's heart to crush it. When +you are laid beneath the turf he becomes lord of your possessions, and +master of his own will. That barrier removed, and the torrent of his +profligacy will rush on without control. Imagine yourself in his place. +How often he must wish his father under ground--and how often, too, his +brother--who so unmercifully impede the free course of his excesses. +But call you this a requital of love? Is this filial gratitude for a +father's tenderness? to sacrifice ten years of your life to the lewd +pleasures of an hour? in one voluptuous moment to stake the honor of an +ancestry which has stood unspotted through seven centuries? Do you call +this a son? Answer? Do you call this your son? + +OLD M. An undutiful son! Alas! but still my child! my child! + +FRANCIS. A most amiable and precious child-whose constant study is to +get rid of his father. Oh, that you could learn to see clearly! that +the film might be removed from your eyes! But your indulgence must +confirm him in his vices! your assistance tend to justify them. +Doubtless you will avert the curse of Heaven from his head, but on your +own, father--on yours--will it fall with twofold vengeance. + +OLD M. Just! most just! Mine, mine be all the guilt! + +FRANCIS. How many thousands who have drained the voluptuous bowl of +pleasure to the dregs have been reclaimed by suffering! And is not the +bodily pain which follows every excess a manifest declaration of the +divine will! And shall man dare to thwart this by an impious exercise +of affection? Shall a father ruin forever the pledge committed to his +charge? Consider, father, if you abandon him for a time to the pressure +of want will not he be obliged to turn from his wickedness and repent? +Otherwise, untaught even in the great school of adversity, he must +remain a confirmed reprobate? And then--woe to the father who by a +culpable tenderness bath frustrated the ordinances of a higher wisdom! +Well, father? + +OLD M. I will write to him that I withdraw my protection. + +FRANCIS. That would be wise and prudent. + +OLD M. That he must never come into my sight again + +FRANCIS. 'Twill have a most salutary effect. + +OLD M. (tenderly). Until he reforms. + +FRANCIS. Right, quite right. But suppose that he comes disguised in +the hypocrite's mask, implores your compassion with tears, and wheedles +from you a pardon, then quits you again on the morrow, and jests at your +weakness in the arms of his harlot. No, my father! He will return of +his own accord, when his conscience awakens him to repentance. + +OLD M. I will write to him, on the spot, to that effect. + +FRANCIS. Stop, father, one word more. Your just indignation might +prompt reproaches too severe, words which might break his heart--and +then--do you not think that your deigning to write with your own hand +might be construed into an act of forgiveness? It would be better, I +think, that you should commit the task to me? + +OLD M. Do it, my son. Ah! it would, indeed, have broken my heart! +Write to him that-- + +FRANCIS (quickly). That's agreed, then? + +OLD M. Say that he has caused me a thousand bitter tears--a thousand +sleepless nights--but, oh! do not drive my son to despair! + +FRANCIS. Had you not better retire to rest, father? This affects you +too strongly. + +OLD M. Write to him that a father's heart--But I charge you, drive him +not to despair. [Exit in sadness.] + +FRANCIS (looking after him with a chuckle). Make thyself easy, old +dotard! thou wilt never more press thy darling to thy bosom--there is a +gulf between thee and him impassable as heaven is from hell. He was +torn from thy arms before even thou couldst have dreamed it possible to +decree the separation. Why, what a sorry bungler should I be had I not +skill enough to pluck a son from a father's heart; ay, though he were +riveted there with hooks of steel! I have drawn around thee a magic +circle of curses which he cannot overleap. Good speed to thee, Master +Francis. Papa's darling is disposed of--the course is clear. I must +carefully pick up all the scraps of paper, for how easily might my +handwriting be recognized. (He gathers the fragments of the letter.) +And grief will soon make an end of the old gentleman. And as for her-- +I must tear this Charles from her heart, though half her life come with +him. + +No small cause have I for being dissatisfied with Dame Nature, and, by +my honor, I will have amends! Why did I not crawl the first from my +mother's womb? why not the only one? why has she heaped on me this +burden of deformity? on me especially? Just as if she had spawned me +from her refuse.* Why to me in particular this snub of the Laplander? +these negro lips? these Hottentot eyes? On my word, the lady seems to +have collected from all the race of mankind whatever was loathsome into +a heap, and kneaded the mass into my particular person. Death and +destruction! who empowered her to deny to me what she accorded to him? +Could a man pay his court to her before he was born? or offend her +before he existed? Why went she to work in such a partial spirit? + +No! no! I do her injustice--she bestowed inventive faculty, and set us +naked and helpless on the shore of this great ocean, the world--let +those swim who can--the heavy** may sink. To me she gave naught else, +and how to make the best use of my endowment is my present business. +Men's natural rights are equal; claim is met by claim, effort by effort, +and force by force--right is with the strongest--the limits of our power +constitute our laws. + +It is true there are certain organized conventions, which men have +devised to keep up what is called the social compact. Honor! truly a +very convenient coin, which those who know how to pass it may lay out +with great advantage.*** Conscience! oh yes, a useful scarecrow to +frighten sparrows away from cherry-trees; it is something like a fairly +written bill of exchange with which your bankrupt merchant staves off +the evil day. + + * See Richard III., Act I, Sc. 1, line 17. + + **Heavy is used in a double meaning; the German word is plump, + which Means lumpish clumsy awkward. + + ***So Falstaff, Hen. IV., Pt. I., Act V., Sc. 1, "Honor is a mere + scutcheon." + +Well! these are all most admirable institutions for keeping fools in +awe, and holding the mob underfoot, that the cunning may live the more +at their ease. Rare institutions, doubtless. They are something like +the fences my boors plant so closely to keep out the hares--yes +I' faith, not a hare can trespass on the enclosure, but my lord claps +spurs to his hunter, and away he gallops over the teeming harvest! + +Poor hare! thou playest but a sorry part in this world's drama, but your +worshipful lords must needs have hares! + + *[This may help to illustrate a passage in Shakespeare which + puzzles the commentators--"Cupid is a good hare-finder."--Much ADO, + Act I., Sc. 1. + The hare, in Germany, is considered an emblem of abject submission + and cowardice. The word may also be rendered "Simpleton," + "Sawney," or any other of the numerous epithets which imply a soft + condition.] + +Then courage, and onward, Francis. The man who fears nothing is as +powerful as he who is feared by everybody. It is now the mode to wear +buckles on your smallclothes, that you may loosen or tighten them at +pleasure. I will be measured for a conscience after the newest fashion, +one that will stretch handsomely as occasion may require. Am I to +blame? It is the tailor's affair? I have heard a great deal of twaddle +about the so-called ties of blood--enough to make a sober man beside +himself. He is your brother, they say; which interpreted, means that he +was manufactured in the same mould, and for that reason he must needs be +sacred in your eyes! To what absurd conclusions must this notion of a +sympathy of souls, derived from the propinquity of bodies, inevitably +tend? A common source of being is to produce community of sentiment; +identity of matter, identity of impulse! Then again,--he is thy father! +He gave thee life, thou art his flesh and blood--and therefore he must +be sacred to thee! Again a most inconsequential deduction! I should +like to know why he begot me;** certainly not out of love for me--for I +must first have existed! + + **[The reader of Sterne will remember a very similar passage in the + first chapter of Tristram Shandy.] + +Could he know me before I had being, or did he think of me during my +begetting? or did he wish for me at the moment? Did he know what I +should be? If so I would not advise him to acknowledge it or I should +pay him off for his feat. Am I to be thankful to him that I am a man? +As little as I should have had a right to blame him if he had made me a +woman. Can I acknowledge an affection which is not based on any +personal regard? Could personal regard be present before the existence +of its object? In what, then, consists the sacredness of paternity? +Is it in the act itself out of which existence arose? as though this +were aught else than an animal process to appease animal desires. Or +does it lie, perhaps, in the result of this act, which is nothing more +after all than one of iron necessity, and which men would gladly +dispense with, were it not at the cost of flesh and blood? Do I then +owe him thanks for his affection? Why, what is it but a piece of +vanity, the besetting sin of the artist who admires his own works, +however hideous they may be? Look you, this is the whole juggle, +wrapped up in a mystic veil to work on our fears. And shall I, too, be +fooled like an infant? Up then! and to thy work manfully. I will root +up from my path whatever obstructs my progress towards becoming the +master. Master I must be, that I may extort by force what I cannot win +by affection.* + + + *[This soliloquy in some parts resembles that of Richard, Duke of + Gloster, in Shakespeare's Henry VI., Act V. Sc. 6.] + +[Exit.] + + + + + SCENE II.--A Tavern on the Frontier of Saxony. + + + CHARLES VON MOOR intent on a book; SPIEGELBERG drinking at the table. + + + +CHARLES VON M. (lays the book aside). I am disgusted with this age of +puny scribblers when I read of great men in my Plutarch. + +SPIEGEL. (places a glass before him, and drinks). Josephus is the book +you should read. + +CHARLES VON M. The glowing spark of Prometheus is burnt out, and now +they substitute for it the flash of lycopodium,* a stage-fire which will +not so much as light a pipe. The present generation may be compared to +rats crawling about the club of Hercules.** + + + *[Lycopodium (in German Barlappen-mehl), vulgarly known as the + Devil's Puff-ball or Witchmeal, is used on the stage, as well in + England as on the continent, to produce flashes of fire. It is + made of the pollen of common club moss, or wolf's claw (Lycopodium + clavatum), the capsules of which contain a highly inflammable + powder. Translators have uniformly failed in rendering this + passage.] + + **[This simile brings to mind Shakespeare's: + "We petty men + Walk under his huge legs, and peep about." + JULIUS CAESAR, Act I., Sc. 2.] + +A French abbe lays it down that Alexander was a poltroon; a phthisicky +professor, holding at every word a bottle of sal volatile to his nose, +lectures on strength. Fellows who faint at the veriest trifle criticise +the tactics of Hannibal; whimpering boys store themselves with phrases +out of the slaughter at Canna; and blubber over the victories of Scipio, +because they are obliged to construe them. + +SPIEGEL. Spouted in true Alexandrian style. + +CHARLES VON M. A brilliant reward for your sweat in the battle-field +truly to have your existence perpetuated in gymnasiums, and your +immortality laboriously dragged about in a schoolboy's satchel. A +precious recompense for your lavished blood to be wrapped round +gingerbread by some Nuremberg chandler, or, if you have great luck, to +be screwed upon stilts by a French playwright, and be made to move on +wires! Ha, ha, ha! + +SPIEGEL. (drinks). Read Josephus, I tell you. + +CHARLES VON M. Fie! fie upon this weak, effeminate age, fit for nothing +but to ponder over the deeds of former times, and torture the heroes of +antiquity with commentaries, or mangle them in tragedies. The vigor of +its loins is dried up, and the propagation of the human species has +become dependent on potations of malt liquor. + +SPIEGEL. Tea, brother! tea! + +CHARLES VON M. They curb honest nature with absurd conventionalities; +have scarcely the heart to charge a glass, because they are tasked to +drink a health in it; fawn upon the lackey that he may put in a word for +them with His Grace, and bully the unfortunate wight from whom they have +nothing to fear. They worship any one for a dinner, and are just as +ready to poison him should he chance to outbid them for a feather-bed +at an auction. They damn the Sadducee who fails to come regularly to +church, although their own devotion consists in reckoning up their +usurious gains at the very altar. They cast themselves on their knees +that they may have an opportunity of displaying their mantles, and +hardly take their eyes off the parson from their anxiety to see how his +wig is frizzled. They swoon at the sight of a bleeding goose, yet clap +their hands with joy when they see their rival driven bankrupt from the +Exchange. Warmly as I pressed their hands,--"Only one more day." In +vain! To prison with the dog! Entreaties! Vows! Tears! (stamping +the ground). Hell and the devil! + +SPIEGEL. And all for a few thousand paltry ducats! + +CHARLES VON M. No, I hate to think of it. Am I to squeeze my body into +stays, and straight-lace my will in the trammels of law. What might +have risen to an eagle's flight has been reduced to a snail's pace by +law. Never yet has law formed a great man; 'tis liberty that breeds +giants and heroes. Oh! that the spirit of Herman* still glowed in his +ashes! + + *[Herman is the German for Armin or Arminius, the celebrated + deliverer of Germany from the Roman yoke. See Menzel's History, + vol. i., p. 85, etc.] + +Set me at the head of an army of fellows like myself, and out of Germany +shall spring a republic compared to which Rome and Sparta will be but as +nunneries. (Rises and flings his sword upon the table.) + +SPIEGEL. (jumping up). Bravo! Bravissimo! you are coming to the right +key now. I have something for your ear, Moor, which has long been on my +mind, and you are the very man for it--drink, brother, drink! What if +we turned Jews and brought the kingdom of Jerusalem again on the tapis? +But tell me is it not a clever scheme? We send forth a manifesto to the +four quarters of the world, and summon to Palestine all that do not eat +Swineflesh. Then I prove by incontestable documents that Herod the +Tetrarch was my direct ancestor, and so forth. There will be a victory, +my fine fellow, when they return and are restored to their lands, and +are able to rebuild Jerusalem. Then make a clean sweep of the Turks out +of Asia while the iron is hot, hew cedars in Lebanon, build ships, and +then the whole nation shall chaffer with old clothes and old lace +throughout the world. Meanwhile-- + +CHARLES VON M. (smiles and takes him by the hand). Comrade! There must +be an end now of our fooleries. + +SPIEGEL. (with surprise). Fie! you are not going to play the prodigal +son!--a fellow like you who with his sword has scratched more +hieroglyhics on other men's faces than three quill-drivers could +inscribe in their daybooks in a leap-year! Shall I tell you the story +of the great dog funeral? Ha! I must just bring back your own picture +to your mind; that will kindle fire in your veins, if nothing else has +power to inspire you. Do you remember how the heads of the college +caused your dog's leg to be shot off, and you, by way of revenge, +proclaimed a fast through the whole town? They fumed and fretted at +your edict. But you, without losing time, ordered all the meat to be +bought up in Leipsic, so that in the course of eight hours there was not +a bone left to pick all over the place, and even fish began to rise in +price. The magistrates and the town council vowed vengeance. But we +students turned out lustily, seventeen hundred of us, with you at our +head, and butchers and tailors and haberdashers at our backs, besides +publicans, barbers, and rabble of all sorts, swearing that the town +should be sacked if a single hair of a student's head was injured. And +so the affair went off like the shooting at Hornberg,* and they were +obliged to be off with their tails between their legs. + + *[The "shooting at Hornberg" is a proverbial expression in Germany + for any expedition from which, through lack of courage, the parties + retire without firing a shot.] + +You sent for doctors--a whole posse of them--and offered three ducats to +any one who would write a prescription for your dog. We were afraid the +gentlemen would stand too much upon honor and refuse, and had already +made up our minds to use force. But this was quite unnecessary; the +doctors got to fisticuffs for the three ducats, and their competition +brought down the price to three groats; in the course of an hour a dozen +prescriptions were written, of which, of course, the poor beast very +soon died. + +CHARLES VON M. The vile rascals. + +SPIEGEL. The funeral procession was arranged with all due pomp; odes +for the dog were indited by the gross; and at night we all turned out, +near a thousand of us, a lantern in one hand and our rapier in the +other, and so proceeded through the town, the bells chiming and ringing, +till the dog was entombed. Then came a, feed which lasted till broad +daylight, when you sent your acknowledgments to the college dons for +their kind sympathy, and ordered the meat to be sold at half-price. +/Mort de ma vie/, if we had not as great a respect for you as a garrison +for the conqueror of a fortress. + +CHARLES VON M. And are you not ashamed to boast of these things? Have +you not shame enough in you to blush even at the recollection of such +pranks? + +SPIEGEL. Come, come! You are no longer the same Moor. Do you remember +how, a thousand times, bottle in hand, you made game of the miserly old +governor, bidding him by all means rake and scrape together as much as +he could, for that you would swill it all down your throat? Don't you +remember, eh?--don't you remember?' O you good-for-nothing, miserable +braggart! that was speaking like a man, and a gentleman, but-- + +CHARLES VON M. A curse on you for reminding me of it! A curse on myself +for what I said! But it was done in the fumes of wine, and my heart +knew not what my tongue uttered. + +SPIEGEL. (shakes his head). No, no! that cannot be! Impossible, +brother! You are not in earnest! Tell me! most sweet brother, is it +not poverty which has brought you to this mood? Come! let me tell you a +little story of my youthful days. There was a ditch close to my house, +eight feet wide at the least, which we boys were trying to leap over for +a wager. But it was no go. Splash! there you lay sprawling, amidst +hisses and roars of laughter, and a relentless shower of snowballs. By +the side of my house a hunter's dog was lying chained, a savage beast, +which would catch the girls by their petticoats with the quickness of +lightning if they incautiously passed too near him. Now it was my +greatest delight to tease this brute in every possible way; and it was +enough to make one burst with laughing to see the beast fix his eyes on +me with such fierceness that he seemed ready to tear me to pieces if he +could but get at me. Well, what happened? Once, when I was amusing +myself in this manner, I hit him such a bang in the ribs with a stone +that in his fury he broke loose and ran right upon me. I tore away like +lightning, but--devil take it!--that confounded ditch lay right in my +way. What was to be done? The dog was close at my heels and quite +furious; there was no time to deliberate. I took a spring and cleared +the ditch. To that leap I was indebted for life and limb; the beast +would have torn me to atoms. + +CHARLES VON M. And to what does all this tend? + +SPIEGEL. To this--that you may be taught that strength grows with the +occasion. For which reason I never despair even when things are the +worst. Courage grows with danger. Powers of resistance increase by +pressure. It is evident by the obstacles she strews in my path that +fate must have designed me for a great man. + +CHARLES VON M. (angrily). I am not aware of anything for which we still +require courage, and have not already shown it. + +SPIEGEL. Indeed! And so you mean to let your gifts go to waste? To +bury your talent? Do you think your paltry achievements at Leipsic +amount to the /ne plus ultra/ of genius? Let us but once get to the +great world--Paris and London! where you get your ears boxed if you +salute a man as honest. It is a real jubilee to practise one's +handicraft there on a grand scale. How you will stare! How you will +open your eyes! to see signatures forged; dice loaded; locks picked, +and strong boxes gutted; all that you shall learn of Spiegelberg! The +rascal deserves to be hanged on the first gallows that would rather +starve than manipulate with his fingers. + +CHARLES VON M. (in a fit of absence). How now? I should not wonder if +your proficiency went further still. + +SPIEGEL. I begin to think you mistrust me. Only wait till I have grown +warm at it; you shall see wonders; your little brain shall whirl clean +round in your pericranium when my teeming wit is delivered. (He rises +excited.) How it clears up within me! Great thoughts are dawning in on +my soul! Gigantic plans are fermenting in my creative brain. Cursed +lethargy (striking his forehead), which has hitherto enchained my +faculties, cramped and fettered my prospects! I awake; I feel what I +am--and what I am to be! + +CHARLES VON M. You are a fool! The wine is swaggering in your brain. + +SPIEGEL. (more excited). Spiegelberg, they will say, art thou a +magician, Spiegelberg? 'Tis a pity, the king will say, that thou wert +not made a general, Spiegelberg, thou wouldst have thrust the Austrians +through a buttonhole. Yes, I hear the doctors lamenting, 'tis a crying +shame that he was not bred to medicine, he would have discovered the +/elixir vitae/. Ay, and that he did not take to financiering, the +Sullys will deplore in their cabinets,--he would have turned flints into +louis-d'ors by his magic. And Spiegelberg will be the word from east to +west; then down into the dirt with you, ye cowards, ye reptiles, while +Spiegelberg soars with outspread wings to the temple of everlasting +fame. + +CHARLES VON M. A pleasant journey to you! I leave you to climb to the +summit of glory on the pillars of infamy. In the shade of my ancestral +groves, in the arms of my Amelia, a nobler joy awaits me. I have +already, last week, written to my father to implore his forgiveness, and +have not concealed the least circumstance from him; and where there is +sincerity there is compassion and help. Let us take leave of each +other, Moritz. After this day we shall meet no more. The post has +arrived. My father's forgiveness must already be within the walls of +this town. + + + Enter SCHWEITZER, GRIMM, ROLLER, SCHUFTERLE, and RAZMAN. + + +ROLLER. Are you aware that they are on our track! + +GRIMM. That we are not for a moment safe from being taken? + +CHARLES VON M. I don't wonder at it. It must be as it will! Have none +of you seen Schwarz? Did he say anything about having a letter for me? + +ROLLER. He has been long in search of you on some such errand, I +suspect. + +CHARLES VON M. Where is he? where, where? (is about to rush of in +haste). + +ROLLER. Stay! we have appointed him to come here. You tremble? + +CHARLES VON M. I do not tremble. Why should I tremble? Comrades, this +letter--rejoice with me! I am the happiest man under the sun; why +should I tremble? + + + Enter SCHWARZ. + + +CHARLES VON M. (rushes towards him). Brother, brother! the letter, the +letter! + +SCHW. (gives him a letter, which he opens hastily). What's the matter? +You have grown as pale as a whitewashed wall! + +CHARLES VON M. My brother's hand! + +SCHW. What the deuce is Spiegelberg about there? + +GRIMM. The fellow's mad. He jumps about as if he had St. Vitus' dance. + +SCHUF. His wits are gone a wool gathering! He's making verses, I'll be +sworn! + +RAZ. Spiegelberg! Ho! Spiegelberg! The brute does not hear. + +GRIMM. (shakes him). Hallo! fellow! are you dreaming? or-- + +SPIEGEL. (who has all this time been making gestures in a corner of the +room, as if working out some great project, jumps up wildly). Your +money or your life! (He catches SCHWEITZER by the throat, who very +coolly flings him against the wall; Moor drops the letter and rushes +out. A general sensation.) + +ROLLER. (calling after him). Moor! where are you going? What's the +matter? + +GRIMM. What ails him? What has he been doing? He is as pale as death. + +SCHW. He must have got strange news. Just let us see! + +ROLLER. (picks up the letter from the ground, and reads). "Unfortunate +brother!"--a pleasant beginning--"I have only briefly to inform you that +you have nothing more to hope for. You may go, your father directs me +to tell you, wherever your own vicious propensities lead. Nor are you +to entertain, he says, any hope of ever gaining pardon by weeping at his +feet, unless you are prepared to fare upon bread and water in the lowest +dungeon of his castle until your hair shall outgrow eagles' feathers, +and your nails the talons of a vulture. These are his very words. He +commands me to close the letter. Farewell forever! I pity you. + + "FRANCIS VON MOOR" + + +SCHW. A most amiable and loving brother, in good truth! And the +scoundrel's name is Francis. + +SPIEGEL. (slinking forward). Bread and water! Is that it? A +temperate diet! But I have made a better provision for you. Did I not +say that I should have to think for you all at last? + +SCHWEIT. What does the blockhead say! The jackass is going to think +for us all! + +SPIEGEL. Cowards, cripples, lame dogs are ye all if you have not +courage enough to venture upon something great. + +ROLLER. Well, of course, so we should be, you are right; but will your +proposed scheme get us out of this devil of a scrape? eh? + +SPIEGEL. (with a proud laugh). Poor thing! Get us out of this scrape? +Ha, ha, ha! Get us out of the scrape!--and is that all your thimbleful +of brain can reach? And with that you trot your mare back to the +stable? Spiegelberg would have been a miserable bungler indeed if that +were the extent of his aim. Heroes, I tell you, barons, princes, gods, +it will make of you. + +RAZ. That's pretty well for one bout, truly! But no doubt it is some +neck-breaking piece of business; it will cost a head or so at the least. + +SPIEGEL. It wants nothing but courage; as to the headwork, I take that +entirely upon myself. Courage, I say, Schweitzer! Courage, Roller! +Grimm! Razman! Schufterle! Courage! + +SCHW. Courage! If that is all, I have courage enough to walk through +hell barefoot. + +SCHUFT. And I courage enough to fight the very devil himself under the +open gallows for the rescue of any poor sinner. + +SPIEGEL. That's just what it should be! If ye have courage, let any +one of you step forward and say he has still something to lose, and not +everything to gain? + +SCHW. Verily, I should have a good deal to lose, if I were to lose all +that I have yet to win! + +PAZ. Yes, by Jove! and I much to win, if I could win all that I have +not got to lose. + +SCHUFT. Were I to lose what I carry on my back on trust I should at any +rate have nothing to lose on the morrow. + +SPIEGEL. Very well then! (He takes his place in the middle of them, +and says in solemn adjuration)--if but a drop of the heroic blood of the +ancient Germans still flow in your veins--come! We will fix our abode +in the Bohemian forests, draw together a band of robbers, and--What are +you gaping at? Has your slender stock of courage oozed out already? + +ROLLER. You are not the first rogue by many that has defied the +gallows;--and yet what other choice have we? + +SPIEGEL. Choice? You have no choice. Do you want to lie rotting in +the debtor's jail and beat hemp till you are bailed by the last trumpet? +Would you toil with pick-axe and spade for a morsel of dry bread? or +earn a pitiful alms by singing doleful ditties under people's windows? +Or will you be sworn at the drumhead--and then comes the question, +whether anybody would trust your hang-dog visages--and so under the +splenetic humor of some despotic sergeant serve your time of purgatory +in advance? Would you like to run the gauntlet to the beat of the drum? +or be doomed to drag after you, like a galley-slave, the whole iron +store of Vulcan? Behold your choice. You have before you the complete +catalogue of all that you may choose from! + +ROLLER. Spiegelberg is not altogether wrong! I, too, have been +concocting plans, but they come much to the same thing. How would it +be, thought I, were we to club our wits together, and dish up a +pocketbook, or an almanac, or something of that sort, and write reviews +at a penny a line, as is now the fashion? + +SCHUFT. The devil's in you! you are pretty nearly hitting on my own +schemes. I have been thinking to myself how would it answer were I to +turn Methodist, and hold weekly prayer-meetings? + +GRIMM. Capital! and, if that fails, turn atheist! We might fall foul of +the four Gospels, get our book burned by the hangman, and then it would +sell at a prodigious rate. + +RAZ. Or we might take the field to cure a fashionable ailment. I know +a quack doctor who has built himself a house with nothing but mercury, +as the motto over his door implies. + +SCHWEIT. (rises and holds out his hand to Spiegelberg). Spiegelberg, +thou art a great man! or else a blind hog has by chance found an acorn. + +SCHW. Excellent schemes! Honorable professions! How great minds +sympathize! All that seems wanting to complete the list is that we +should turn pimps and bawds. + +SPIEGEL. Pooh! Pooh! Nonsense. And what is to prevent our combining +most of these occupations in one person? My plan will exalt you the +most, and it holds out glory and immortality into the bargain. +Remember, too, ye sorry varlets, and it is a matter worthy of +consideration: one's fame hereafter--the sweet thought of immortality-- + +ROLLER. And that at the very head of the muster-roll of honorable +names! You are a master of eloquence, Spiegelberg, when the question is +how to convert an honest man into a scoundrel. But does any one know +what has become of Moor? + +SPIEGEL. Honest, say you? Do you think you'll be less honest then than +you are now? What do you call honest? To relieve rich misers of half +of those cares which only scare golden sleep from their eyelids; to +force hoarded coin into circulation; to restore the equalization of +property; in one word, to bring back the golden age; to relieve +Providence of many a burdensome pensioner, and so save it the trouble of +sending war, pestilence, famine, and above all, doctors--that is what I +call honesty, d'ye see; that's what I call being a worthy instrument in +the hand of Providence,--and then, at every meal you eat, to have the +sweet reflection: this is what thy own ingenuity, thy lion boldness, thy +night watchings, have procured for thee--to command the respect both of +great and small! + +ROLLER. And at last to mount towards heaven in the living body, and in +spite of wind and storm, in spite of the greedy maw of old father Time, +to be hovering beneath the sun and moon and all the stars of the +firmament, where even the unreasoning birds of heaven, attracted by +noble instinct, chant their seraphic music, and angels with tails hold +their most holy councils? Don't you see? And, while monarchs and +potentates become a prey to moths and worms, to have the honor of +receiving visits from the royal bird of Jove. Moritz, Moritz, Moritz! +beware of the three-legged beast.* + + *[The gallows, which in Germany is formed of three posts.] + +SPIEGEL. And does that fright thee, craven-heart? Has not many a +universal genius, who might have reformed the world, rotted upon the +gallows? And does not the renown of such a man live for hundreds and +thousands of years, whereas many a king and elector would be passed over +in history, were not historians obliged to give him a niche to complete +the line of succession, or that the mention of him did not swell the +volume a few octavo pages, for which he counts upon hard cash from the +publisher. And when the wayfarer sees you swinging to and fro in the +breeze he will mutter to himself, "That fellow's brains had no water in +them, I'll warrant me," and then groan over the hardship of the times. + +SCHWEIT. (slaps him on the shoulder). Well said, Spiegelberg! Well +said! Why the devil do we stand here hesitating? + +SCHW. And suppose it is called disgrace--what then? Cannot one, in +case of need, always carry a small powder about one, which quietly +smooths the weary traveller's passage across the Styx, where no cock- +crowing will disturb his rest? No, brother Moritz! Your scheme is +good; so at least says my creed. + +SCHUFT. Zounds! and mine too! Spiegelberg, I am your recruit. + +RAZ. Like a second Orpheus, Spiegelberg, you have charmed to sleep that +howling beast, conscience! Take me as I stand, I am yours entirely! + +GRIMMM. /Si omnes consentiunt ego non dissentio/;* mind, without a +comma. There is an auction going on in my head--methodists--quack +doctors--reviewers--rogues;--the highest bidder has me. Here is my +hand, Moritz! + + *[The joke is explained by placing a comma after non.] + +ROLLER. And you too, Schweitzer? (he gives his right hand to +SPIEGELBERG). Thus I consign my soul to the devil. + +SPIEGEL. And your name to the stars! What does it signify where the +soul goes to? If crowds of /avantcouriers/ give notice of our descent +that the devils may put on their holiday gear, wipe the accumulated soot +of a thousand years from their eyelashes, and myriads of horned heads +pop up from the smoking mouth of their sulphurous chimneys to welcome +our arrival! 'Up, comrades! (leaping up). Up! What in the world is +equal to this ecstacy of delight? Come along, comrades! + +ROLLER. Gently, gently! Where are you going? Every beast must have a +head, boys! + +SPIEGEL. (With bitterness). What is that incubus preaching about? Was +not the head already there before a single limb began to move? Follow +me, comrades! + +ROLLER. Gently, I say! even liberty must have its master. Rome and +Sparta perished for want of a chief. + +SPIEGEL. (in a wheedling manner). Yes,--stay--Roller is right. And he +must have an enlightened head. Do you understand? A keen, politic +head. Yes! when I think what you were only an hour ago, and what you +are now, and that it is all owing to one happy thought. Yes, of course, +you must have a chief, and you'll own that he who struck out this idea +may claim to have an enlightened and politic head? + +ROLLER. If one could hope, if one could dream, but I fear he will not +consent. + +SPIEGEL. Why not? Speak out boldly, friend! Difficult as it may be to +steer a laboring vessel against wind and tide, oppressive as may be the +weight of a crown, speak your thought without hesitation, Roller! +Perhaps he may be prevailed upon after all! + +ROLLER. And if he does not the whole vessel will be crazy enough. +Without Moor we are a "body without a soul." + +SPIEGEL. (turning angrily from him). Dolt! blockhead! + + + (Enter CHARLES VON MOOR in violent agitation, stalking backwards + and forwards, and speaking to himself.) + + +CHARLES VON M. Man--man! false, perfidious crocodile-brood! Your eyes +are all tears, but your hearts steel! Kisses on your lips, but daggers +couched in your bosoms! Even lions and tigers nourish their young. +Ravens feast their brood on carrion, and he--he Malice I have learned to +bear; and I can smile when my fellest enemy drinks to me in my own +heart's blood; but when kindred turn traitors, when a father's love +becomes a fury's hate; oh, then, let manly resignation give place to +raging fire! the gentle lamb become a tiger! and every nerve strain +itself to vengeance and destruction! + +ROLLER. Hark ye, Moor! What think ye of it? A robber's life is +pleasanter, after all, than to lie rotting on bread and water in the +lowest dungeon of the castle? + +CHARLES VON M. Why was not this spirit implanted in a tiger which gluts +its raging jaws with human flesh? Is this a father's tenderness? Is +this love for love? Would I were a bear to rouse all the bears of the +north against this murderous race! Repentance, and no pardon! Oh, that +I could poison the ocean that men might drink death from every spring! +Contrition, implicit reliance, and no pardon! + +ROLLER. But listen, Moor,--listen to what I am telling you! + +CHARLES VON M. 'Tis incredible! 'tis a dream--a delusion! Such earnest +entreaty, such a vivid picture of misery and tearful penitence--a savage +beast would have been melted to compassion! stones would have wept, and +yet he--it would be thought a malicious libel upon human nature were I +to proclaim it--and yet, yet--oh, that I could sound the trumpet of +rebellion through all creation, and lead air, and earth, and sea into +battle array against this generation of hyenas! + +GRIMM. Hear me, only hear me! You are deaf with raving. + +CHARLES VON M. Avaunt, avaunt! Is not thy name man? Art thou not born +of woman? Out of my sight, thou thing with human visage! I loved him +so unutterably!--never son so loved a father; I would have sacrificed a +thousand lives for him (foaming and stamping the ground). Ha! where is +he that will put a sword into my hand that I may strike this generation +of vipers to the quick! Who will teach me how to reach their heart's +core, to crush, to annihilate the whole race? Such a man shall be my +friend, my angel, my god--him will I worship! + +ROLLER. Such friends behold in us; be but advised! + +SCHW. Come with us into the Bohemian forests! We will form a band of +robbers there, and you (MOOR stares at him). + +SCHWEIT. You shall be our captain! you must be our captain! + +SPIEGEL. (throws himself into a chair in a rage). Slaves and cowards! + +CHARLES VON M. Who inspired thee with that thought? Hark, fellow! +(grasping ROLLER tightly) that human soul of thine did not produce it; +who suggested it to thee? Yes, by the thousand arms of death! that's +what we will, and what we must do! the thought's divine. He who +conceived it deserves to be canonized. Robbers and murderers! As my +soul lives, I am your captain! + +ALL (with tumultuous shouts). Hurrah! long live our captain! + +SPIEGEL. (starting up, aside). Till I give him his /coup de grace/! + +CHARLES VON M. See, it falls like a film from my eyes! What a fool was +I to think of returning to be caged? My soul's athirst for deeds, my +spirit pants for freedom. Murderers, robbers! with these words I +trample the law underfoot--mankind threw off humanity when I appealed to +it. Away, then, with human sympathies and mercy! I no longer have a +father, no longer affections; blood and death shall teach me to forget +that anything was ever dear to me! Come! come! Oh, I will recreate +myself with some most fearful vengeance;--'tis resolved, I am your +captain! and success to him who Shall spread fire and slaughter the +widest and most savagely--I pledge myself He shall be right royally +rewarded. Stand around me, all of you, and swear to me fealty and +obedience unto death! Swear by this trusty right hand. + +ALL (place their hands in his). We swear to thee fealty and obedience +unto death! + +CHARLES VON M. And, by this same trusty right Hand, I here swear to you +to remain your captain, true and faithful unto death! This arm shall +make an instant corpse of him who doubts, or fears, or retreats. And +may the same befall me from your hands if I betray my oath! Are you +content? + + + [SPIEGELBERG runs up and down in a furious rage.] + + +ALL (throwing up their hats). We are content! + +CHARLES VON M. Well, then, let us be gone! Fear neither death nor +danger, for an unalterable destiny rules over us. Every man has his +doom, be it to die on the soft pillow of down, or in the field of blood, +or on the scaffold, or the wheel! One or the other of these must be our +lot! [Exeunt.] + +SPIEGEL. (looking after them after a pause). Your catalogue has a hole +in it. You have omitted poison. + +[Exit.] + + + + + SCENE III.--MOOR'S Castle.--AMELIA'S Chamber. + + FRANCIS, AMELIA. + +FRANCIS. Your face is averted from me, Amelia? Am I less worthy than +he who is accursed of his father? + +AMELIA. Away! Oh! what a loving, compassionate father, who abandons +his son a prey to wolves and monsters! In his own comfortable home he +pampers himself with delicious wines and stretches his palsied limbs on +down, while his noble son is starving. Shame upon you, inhuman +wretches! Shame upon you, ye souls of dragons, ye blots on humanity!-- +his only son! + +FRANCIS. I thought he had two. + +AMELIA. Yes, he deserves to have such sons as you are. On his deathbed +he will in vain stretch out his withered hands for his Charles, and +recoil with a shudder when he feels the ice-cold hand of his Francis. +Oh, it is sweet, deliciously sweet, to be cursed by such a father! Tell +me, Francis, dear brotherly soul--tell me what must one do to be cursed +by him? + +FRANCIS. You are raving, dearest; you are to be pitied. + +AMELIA. Oh! indeed. Do you pity your brother? No, monster, you hate +him! I hope you hate me too. + +FRANCIS. I love you as dearly as I love myself, Amelia! + +AMELIA. If you love me you will not refuse me one little request. + +FRANCIS. None, none! if you ask no more than my life. + +AMELIA. Oh, if that is the case! then one request, which you will so +easily, so readily grant. (Loftily.) Hate me! I should perforce blush +crimson if, whilst thinking of Charles, it should for a moment enter my +mind that you do not hate me. You promise me this? Now go, and leave +me; I so love to be alone! + +FRANCIS. Lovely enthusiast! how greatly I admire your gentle, +affectionate heart. Here, here, Charles reigned sole monarch, like a +god within his temple; he stood before thee waking, he filled your +imaination dreaming; the whole creation seemed to thee to centre in +Charles, and to reflect him alone; it gave thee no other echo but of +him. + +AMELIA (with emotion). Yes, verily, I own it. Despite of you all, +barbarians as you are, I will own it before all the world. I love him! + +FRANCIS. Inhuman, cruel! So to requite a love like this! To forget +her-- + +AMELIA (starting). What! forget me? + +FRANCIS. Did you not place a ring on his finger?--a diamond ring, the +pledge of your love? To be sure how is it possible for youth to resist +the fascinations of a wanton? Who can blame him for it, since he had +nothing else left to give away? and of course she repaid him with +interest by her caresses and embraces. + +AMELIA (with indignation). My ring to a wanton? + +FRANCIS. Fie, fie! it is disgraceful. 'Twould not be much, however, if +that were all. A ring, be it ever so costly, is, after all, a thing +which one may always buy of a Jew. Perhaps the fashion of it did not +please him, perhaps he exchanged it for one more beautiful. + +AMELIA (with violence). But my ring, I say, my ring? + +FRANCIS. Even yours, Amelia. Ha! such a brilliant, and on my finger; +and from Amelia! Death itself should not have plucked it hence. It is +not the costliness of the diamond, not the cunning of the pattern--it is +love which constitutes its value. Is it not so, Amelia? Dearest child, +you are weeping. Woe be to him who causes such precious drops to flow +from those heavenly eyes; ah, and if you knew all, if you could but see +him yourself, see him under that form? + +AMELIA. Monster! what do you mean? What form do you speak of? + +FRANCIS. Hush, hush, gentle soul, press me no further (as if +soliloquizing, yet aloud). If it had only some veil, that horrid vice, +under which it might shroud itself from the eye of the world! But there +it is, glaring horribly through the sallow, leaden eye; proclaiming +itself in the sunken, deathlike look; ghastly protruding bones; the +faltering, hollow voice; preaching audibly from the shattered, shaking +skeleton; piercing to the most vital marrow of the bones, and sapping +the manly strength of youth--faugh! the idea sickens me. Nose, eyes, +ears shrink from it. You saw that miserable wretch, Amelia, in our +hospital, who was heavily breathing out his spirit; modesty seemed to +cast down her abashed eye as she passed him; you cried woe upon him. +Recall that hideous image to your mind, and your Charles stands before +you. His kisses are pestilence, his lips poison. + +AMELIA (strikes him). Shameless liar! + +FRANCIS. Does such a Charles inspire you with horror? Does the mere +picture fill you with disgust? Go, then! gaze upon him yourself, your +handsome, your angelic, your divine Charles! Go, drink his balmy +breath, and revel in the ambrosial fumes which ascend from his throat! +The very exhalations of his body will plunge you into that dark and +deathlike dizziness which follows the smell of a bursting carcase, or +the sight of a corpse-strewn battle-field. (AMELIA turns away her +face.) What sensations of love! What rapture in those embraces! But is +it not unjust to condemn a man because of his diseased exterior? Even +in the most wretched lump of deformity a soul great and worthy of love +may beam forth brightly like a pearl on a dunghill. ( With a malignant +smile.) Even from lips of corruption love may----. To be sure if vice +should undermine the very foundations of character, if with chastity +virtue too should take her flight as the fragrance departs from the +faded rose--if with the body the soul too should be tainted and +corrupted. + +AMELIA (rising joyfully). Ha! Charles! now I recognize thee again! +Thou art whole, whole! It was all a lie! Dost thou not know, +miscreant, that it would be impossible for Charles to be the being you +describe? (FRANCIS remains standing for some time, lost in thought, +then suddenly turns round to go away.) Whither are you going in such +haste? Are you flying from your own infamy? + +FRANCIS (hiding his face). Let me go, let me go! to give free vent to +my tears! tyrannical father, thus to abandon the best of your sons to +misery and disgrace on every side! Let me go, Amelia! I will throw +myself at his feet, on my knees I will conjure him to transfer to me the +curse that he has pronounced, to disinherit me, to hate me, my blood, my +life, my all----. + +AMELIA (falls on his neck). Brother of my Charles! Dearest, most +excellent Francis! + +FRANCIS. Oh, Amelia! how I love you for this unshaken constancy to my +brother. Forgive me for venturing to subject your love to so severe a +trial! How nobly you have realized my wishes! By those tears, those +sighs, that divine indignation--and for me too, for me--our souls did so +truly harmonize. + +AMELIA. Oh, no! that they never did! + +FRANCIS. Alas! they harmonized so truly that I always thought we must +be twins. And were it not for that unfortunate difference in person, to +be twin-like, which, it must be admitted, would be to the disadvantage +of Charles, we should again and again be mistaken for each other. Thou +art, I often said to myself, thou art the very Charles, his echo, his +counterpart. + +AMELIA (shakes her head). No, no! by that chaste light of heaven! not +an atom of him, not the least spark of his soul. + +FRANCIS. So entirely the same in our dispositions; the rose was his +favorite flower, and what flower do I esteem above the rose? He loved +music beyond expression; and ye are witnesses, ye stars! how often you +have listened to me playing on the harpsichord in the dead silence of +night, when all around lay buried in darkness and slumber; and how is it +possible for you, Amelia, still to doubt? if our love meets in one +perfection, and if it is the self-same love, how can its fruits +degenerate? (AMELIA looks at him with astonishment.) It was a calm, +serene evening, the last before his departure for Leipzic, when he took +me with him to the bower where you so often sat together in dreams of +love,--we were long speechless; at last he seized my hand, and said, in +a low voice, and with tears in his eyes, "I am leaving Amelia; I know +not, but I have a sad presentiment that it is forever; forsake her not, +brother; be her friend, her Charles--if Charles--should never--never +return." (He throws himself down before her, and kisses her hand with +fervor.) Never, never, never will he return; and I stand pledged by a +sacred oath to fulfil his behest! + +AMELIA (starting back). Traitor! Now thou art unmasked! In that very +bower he conjured me, if he died, to admit no other love. Dost thou see +how impious, how execrable----. Quit my sight! + +FRANCIS. You know me not, Amelia; you do not know me in the least! + +AMELIA. Oh, yes, I know you; from henceforth I know you; and you +pretend to be like him? You mean to say that he wept for me in your +presence? Yours? He would sooner have inscribed my name on the +pillory? Begone--this instant! + +FRANCIS. You insult me. + +AMELIA. Go--I say. You have robbed me of a precious hour; may it be +deducted from your life. + +FRANCIS. You hate me then! + +AMELIA. I despise you--away! + +FRANCIS (stamping with fury). Only wait! you shall learn to tremble +before me!--To sacrifice me for a beggar! + [Exit in anger.] + +AMELIA. Go, thou base villain! Now, Charles, am I again thine own. +Beggar, did he say! then is the world turned upside down, beggars are +kings, and kings are beggars! I would not change the rags he wears for +the imperial purple. The look with which he begs must, indeed, be a +noble, a royal look, a look that withers into naught the glory, the +pomp, the triumphs of the rich and great! Into the dust with thee, +glittering baubles! (She tears her pearls from her neck.) Let the rich +and the proud be condemned to bear the burden of gold, and silver, and +jewels! Be they condemned to carouse at the tables of the voluptuous! +To pamper their limbs on the downy couch of luxury! Charles! Charles! +Thus am I worthy of thee! + [Exit.] + + + + + ACT II. + + SCENE I.--FRANCIS VON MOOR in his chamber--in meditation. + +FRANCIS. It lasts too long-and the doctor even says is recovering--an +old man's life is a very eternity! The course would be free and plain +before me, but for this troublesome, tough lump of flesh, which, like +the infernal demon-hound in ghost stories, bars the way to my treasures. + +Must, then, my projects bend to the iron yoke of a mechanical system? +Is my soaring spirit to be chained down to the snail's pace of matter? +To blow out a wick which is already flickering upon its last drop of +oil--'tis nothing more. And yet I would rather not do it myself, on +account of what the world would say. I should not wish him to be +killed, but merely disposed of. I should like to do what your clever +physician does, only the reverse way--not stop Nature's course by +running a bar across her path, but only help her to speed a little +faster. Are we not able to prolong the conditions of life? Why, +then, should we not also be able to shorten them? Philosophers and +physiologists teach us how close is the sympathy between the emotions of +the mind and the movements of the bodily machine. Convulsive sensations +are always accompanied by a disturbance of the mechanical vibrations-- +passions injure the vital powers--an overburdened spirit bursts its +shell. Well, then--what if one knew how to smooth this unbeaten path, +for the easier entrance of death into the citadel of life?--to work the +body's destruction through the mind--ha! an original device!--who can +accomplish this?--a device without a parallel! Think upon it, Moor! +That were an art worthy of thee for its inventor. Has not poisoning +been raised almost to the rank of a regular science, and Nature +compelled, by the force of experiments, to define her limits, so that +one may now calculate the heart's throbbings for years in advance, and +say to the beating pulse, "So far, and no farther"? Why should not one +try one's skill in this line?* + + *[A woman in Paris, by means of a regularly performed series of + experiments, carried the art of poisoning to such perfection that + she could predict almost to a certainty the day of death, however + remote. Fie upon our physicians, who should blush to be outdone by + a woman in their own province. Beckmann, in his article on secret + poisoning, has given a particular account of this woman, the + Marchioness de Brinvilliers.--See "History of Inventions," Standard + Library Edition, vol. i, pp. 47-63.] + +And how, then, must I, too, go to work to dissever that sweet and +peaceful union of soul and body? What species of sensations should I +seek to produce? Which would most fiercely assail the condition of +life? Anger?--that ravenous wolf is too quickly satiated. Care? that +worm gnaws far too slowly. Grief?--that viper creeps too lazily for me. +Fear?--hope destroys its power. What! and are these the only +executioners of man? is the armory of death so soon exhausted? (In deep +thought.) How now! what! ho! I have it! (Starting up.) Terror! What +is proof against terror? What powers have religion and reason under +that giant's icy grasp! And yet--if he should withstand even this +assault? If he should! Oh, then, come Anguish to my aid! and thou, +gnawing Repentance!--furies of hell, burrowing snakes who regorge your +food, and feed upon your own excrements; ye that are forever destroying, +and forever reproducing your poison! And thou, howling Remorse, that +desolatest thine own habitation, and feedest upon thy mother. And come +ye, too, gentle Graces, to my aid; even you, sweet smiling Memory, +goddess of the past--and thou, with thy overflowing horn of plenty, +blooming Futurity; show him in your mirror the joys of Paradise, while +with fleeting foot you elude his eager grasp. Thus will I work my +battery of death, stroke after stroke, upon his fragile body, until the +troop of furies close upon him with Despair! Triumph! triumph!--the +plan is complete--difficult and masterly beyond compare--sure--safe; for +then (with a sneer) the dissecting knife can find no trace of wound or +of corrosive poison. + +(Resolutely.) Be it so! (Enter HERMANN.) Ha! /Deus ex machina/! +Hermann! + +HERMANN. At your service, gracious sir! + +FRANCIS (shakes him by the hand). You will not find it that of an +ungrateful master. + +HERMANN. I have proofs of this. + +FRANCIS. And you shall have more soon--very soon, Hermann!--I have +something to say to thee, Hermann. + +HERMANN. I am all attention. + +FRANCIS. I know thee--thou art a resolute fellow--a man of mettle.--To +call thee smooth-tongued! My father has greatly belied thee, Hermann. + +HERMANN. The devil take me if I forget it! + +FRANCIS. Spoken like a man! Vengeance becomes a manly heart! Thou art +to my mind, Hermann. Take this purse, Hermann. It should be heavier +were I master here. + +HERMANN. That is my unceasing wish, most gracious sir. I thank you. + +FRANCIS. Really, Hermann! dost thou wish that I were master? But my +father has the marrow of a lion in his bones, and I am but a younger +son. + +HERMANN. I wish you were the eldest son, and that your father were as +marrowless as a girl sinking in a consumption. + +FRANCIS. Ha! how that elder son would recompense thee! How he would +raise thee from this grovelling condition, so ill suited to thy spirit +and noble birth, to be a light of the age!--Then shouldst thou be +covered with gold from head to foot, and dash through the streets four +in hand--verily thou shouldst!--But I am losing sight of what I meant to +say.--Have you already forgotten the Lady Amelia, Hermann? + +HERMANN. A curse upon it! Why do you remind me of her? + +FRANCIS. My brother has filched her away from you. + +HERMANN. He shall rue it. + +FRANCIS. She gave you the sack. And, if I remember right, he kicked +you down stairs. + +HERMANN. For which I will kick him into hell. + +FRANCIS. He used to say, it was whispered abroad, that your father +could never look upon you without smiting his breast and sighing, +"God be merciful to me, a sinner!" + +HERMANN (wildly). Thunder and lightning! No more of this! + +FRANCIS. He advised you to sell your patent of nobility by auction, and +to get your stockings mended with the proceeds. + +HERMANN. By all the devils in hell, I'll scratch out his eyes with my +own nails! + +FRANCIS. What? you are growing angry? What signifies your anger? What +harm can you do him? What can a mouse like you do to such a lion? Your +rage only makes his triumph the sweeter. You can do nothing more than +gnash your teeth, and vent your rage upon a dry crust. + +HERMANN (stamping). I will grind him to powder! + +FRANCIS (slapping his shoulder). Fie, Hermann! You are a gentleman. +You must not put up with the affront. You must not give up the lady, +no, not for all the world, Hermann! By my soul, I would move heaven and +earth were I in your place. + +HERMANN. I will not rest till I have him, and him, too, under ground. + +FRANCIS. Not so violent, Hermann! Come nearer--you shall have Amelia. + +HERMANN. That I must; despite the devil himself, I will have her. + +FRANCIS. You shall have her, I tell you; and that from my hand. Come +closer, I say.--You don't know, perhaps, that Charles is as good as +disinherited. + +HERMANN (going closer to him). Incredible! The first I have heard of +it. + +FRANCIS. Be patient, and listen! Another time you shall hear more.-- +Yes, I tell you, as good as banished these eleven months. But the old +man already begins to lament the hasty step, which, however, I flatter +myself (with a smile) is not entirely his own. Amelia, too, is +incessantly pursuing him with her tears and reproaches. Presently he +will be having him searched for in every quarter of the world; and if he +finds him--then it's all over with you, Hermann. You may perhaps have +the honor of most obsequiously holding the coach-door while he alights +with the lady to get married. + +HERMANN. I'll strangle him at the altar first. + +FRANCIS. His father will soon give up his estates to him, and live in +retirement in his castle. Then the proud roysterer will have the reins +in his own hands, and laugh his enemies to scorn;--and I, who wished to +make a great man of you--a man of consequence--I myself, Hermann, shall +have to make my humble obeisance at his threshold. + +HERMANN (with fire). No, as sure as my name is Hermann, that shall +never be! If but the smallest spark of wit glimmer in this brain of +mine, that shall never be! + +FRANCIS. Will you be able to prevent it? You, too, my good Hermann, +will be made to feel his lash. He will spit in your face when he meets +you in the streets; and woe be to you should you venture to shrug your +shoulders or to make a wry mouth. Look, my friend! this is all that +your lovesuit, your prospects, and your mighty plans amount to. + +HERMANN. Tell me, what am I to do? + +FRANCIS. Well, then, listen, Hermann! You see how I enter into your +feelings, like a true friend. Go--disguise yourself, so that no one may +recognize you; obtain audience of the old man; pretend to come straight +from Bohemia, to have been at the battle of Prague along with my +brother--to have seen him breathe his last on the field of battle! + +HERMANN. Will he believe me? + +FRANCIS. Ho! ho! let that be my care! Take this packet. There you +will find your commission set forth at large; and documents, to boot, +which shall convince the most incredulous. Only make haste to get away +unobserved. Slip through the back gate into the yard, and then scale +the garden wall.--The denouement of this tragicomedy you may leave to +me! + +HERMANN. That, I suppose, will be, "Long live our new baron, Francis +von Moor!" + +FRANCIS (patting his cheeks). How cunning you are! By this means, you +see, we attain all our aims at once and quickly. Amelia relinquishes +all hope of him,--the old man reproaches himself for the death of his +son, and--he sickens--a tottering edifice needs no earthquake to bring +it down--he will not survive the intelligence--then am I his only son, +--Amelia loses every support, and becomes the plaything of my will, and +you may easily guess--in short, all will go as we wish--but you must not +flinch from your word. + +HERMANN. What do you say? (Exultingly.) Sooner shall the ball turn +back in its course, and bury itself in the entrails of the marksman. +Depend upon me! Only let me to the work. Adieu! + +FRANCIS (calling after him). The harvest is thine, dear Hermann! +(Alone.) When the ox has drawn the corn into the barn, he must put up +with hay. A dairy maid for thee, and no Amelia! + + + + + SCENE II.--Old Moor's Bedchamber. + + OLD MOOR asleep in an arm-chair; AMELIA. + + +AMELIA (approaching him on tip-toe). Softly! Softly! He slumbers. +(She places herself before him.) How beautiful! how venerable!-- +venerable as the picture of a saint. No, I cannot be angry with thee, +thou head with the silver locks; I cannot be angry with thee! Slumber +on gently, wake up cheerfully--I alone will be the sufferer. + +OLD M. (dreaming). My son! my son! my son! + +AMELIA (seizes his hand). Hark!--hark! his son is in his dreams. + +OLD M. Are you there? Are you really there! Alas! how miserable you +seem! Fix not on me that mournful look! I am wretched enough. + +AMELIA (awakens him abruptly). Look up, dear old man! 'Twas but a +dream. Collect yourself! + +OLD M. (half awake). Was he not there? Did I not press his hands? +Cruel Francis! wilt thou tear him even from my dreams? + +AMELIA (aside). Ha! mark that, Amelia! + +OLD M. (rousing himself). Where is he? Where? Where am I? You here, +Amelia? + +AMELIA. How do you find yourself? You have had a refreshing slumber. + +OLD M. I was dreaming about my son. Why did I not dream on? Perhaps I +might have obtained forgiveness from his lips. + +AMELIA. Angels bear no resentment--he forgives you. (Seizes his hand +sorrowfully.) Father of my Charles! I, too, forgive you. + +OLD M. No, no, my child! That death-like paleness of thy cheek is the +father's condemnation. Poor girl! I have robbed thee of the happiness +of thy youth. Oh, do not curse me! + +AMELIA (affectionately kissing his hand). I curse you? + +OLD M. Dost thou know this portrait, my daughter? + +AMELIA. Charles! + +OLD M. Such was he in his sixteenth year. But now, alas! how changed. +Oh, it is raging within me. That gentleness is now indignation; that +smile despair. It was his birthday, was it not, Amelia--in the +jessamine bower--when you drew this picture of him? Oh, my daughter! +How happy was I in your loves. + +AMELIA (with her eye still riveted upon the picture). No, no, it is not +he! By Heaven, that is not Charles! Here (pointing to her head and her +heart), here he is perfect; and how different. The feeble pencil avails +not to express that heavenly spirit which reigned in his fiery eye. +Away with it! This is a poor image, an ordinary man! I was a mere +dauber. + +OLD M. That kind, that cheering look! Had that been at my bedside, +I should have lived in the midst of death. Never, never should I have +died! + +AMELIA. No, you would never, never have died. It would have been but a +leap, as we leap from one thought to another and a better. That look +would have lighted you across the tomb--that look would have lifted you +beyond the stars! + +OLD M. It is hard! it is sad! I am dying, and my son Charles is not +here--I am borne to my tomb, and he weeps not over my grave. How sweet +it is to be lulled into the sleep of death by a son's prayer--that is +the true requiem. + +AMELIA (with enthusiasm). Yes, sweet it is, heavenly sweet, to be +lulled into the sleep of death by the song of the beloved. Perhaps our +dreams continue in the grave--a long, eternal, never-ending dream of +Charles--till the trumpet of resurrection sounds--(rising in ecstasy) +--and thenceforth and forever in his arms! (A pause; she goes to the +piano and plays.) + + ANDROMACHE. + + Oh, Hector, wilt thou go for evermore, + When fierce Achilles, on the blood-stained shore, + Heaps countless victims o'er Patroclus' grave? + When then thy hapless orphan boy will rear, + Teach him to praise the gods and hurl the spear, + When thou art swallow'd up in Xanthus' wave? + + +OLD M. A beautiful song, my daughter. You must play that to me before +I die. + +AMELIA. It is the parting of Hector and Andromache. Charles and I used +often to sing it together to the guitar. (She continues.) + + + HECTOR. + + Beloved wife! stern duty calls to arms-- + Go, fetch my lance! and cease those vain alarms! + On me is cast the destiny of Troy! + Astyanax, my child, the Gods will shield, + Should Hector fall upon the battle-field; + And in Elysium we shall meet with joy! + + +Enter DANIEL. + +DANIEL. There is a man without, who craves to be admitted to your +presence, and says he brings tidings of importance. + +OLD M. To me there is but one thing in this world of importance; thou +knowest it, Amelia. Perhaps it is some unfortunate creature who seeks +assistance? He shall not go hence in sorrow. + +AMELIA.--If it is a beggar, let him come up quickly. + +OLD M. Amelia, Amelia! spare me! + +AMELIA (continues to play and sing.) + + + ANDROMACHE. + + Thy martial tread no more will grace my hall-- + Thine arms shall hang sad relics on the wall-- + And Priam's race of godlike heroes fade! + Oh, thou wilt go where Phcebus sheds no light-- + Where black Cocytus wails in endless night + Thy love will die in Lethe's gloomy shade. + + + HECTOR. + + Though I in Lethe's darksome wave should sink, + And cease on other mortal ties to think, + Yet thy true love shall never be forgot! + Hark! on the walls I hear the battle roar-- + Gird on my armor--and, oh, weep no more. + Thy Hector's love in Lethe dieth not! + + + (Enter FRANCIS, HERMANN in disguise, DANIEL.) + +FRANCIS. Here is the man. He says that he brings terrible news. Can +you bear the recital! + +OLD M. I know but one thing terrible to hear. Come hither, friend, and +spare me not! Hand him a cup of wine! + +HERMANN (in a feigned voice). Most gracious Sir? Let not a poor man be +visited with your displeasure, if against his will he lacerates your +heart. I am a stranger in these parts, but I know you well; you are the +father of Charles von Moor. + +OLD M. How know you that? + +HERMANN. I knew your son + +AMELIA (starting up). He lives then? He lives! You know him? Where +is he? Where? (About to rush out.) + +OLD M. What know you about my son? + +HERMANN. He was a student at the university of Leipzic. From thence he +travelled about, I know not how far. He wandered all over Germany, and, +as he told me himself, barefoot and bareheaded, begging his bread from +door to door. After five months, the fatal war between Prussia and +Austria broke out afresh, and as he had no hopes left in this world, the +fame of Frederick's victorious banner drew him to Bohemia. Permit me, +said he to the great Schwerin, to die on the bed of heroes, for I have +no longer a father!-- + +OLD M. O! Amelia! Look not on me! + +HERMANN. They gave him a pair of colors. With the Prussians he flew on +the wings of victory. We chanced to lie together, in the same tent. He +talked much of his old father, and of happy days that were past--and of +disappointed hopes--it brought the tears into our eyes. + +OLD M. (buries his face in his pillow).--No more! Oh, no more! + +HERMANN. A week after, the fierce battle of Prague was fought--I can +assure you your son behaved like a brave soldier. He performed +prodigies that day in sight of the whole army. Five regiments were +successively cut down by his side, and still he kept his ground. Fiery +shells fell right and left, and still your son kept his ground. A ball +shattered his right hand: he seized the colors with his left, and still +he kept his ground! + +AMELIA (in transport). Hector, Hector! do you hear? He kept his +ground! + +HERMANN. On the evening of the battle I found him on the same spot. He +had sunk down, amidst a shower of hissing balls: with his left hand he +was stanching the blood that flowed from a fearful wound; his right he +had buried in the earth. "Comrade!" cried he when he saw me, "there has +been a report through the ranks that the general fell an hour ago--" +"He is fallen," I replied, "and thou?" "Well, then," he cried, +withdrawing his left hand from the wound, "let every brave soldier +follow his general!" Soon after he breathed out his noble soul, to join +his heroic leader. + +FRANCIS (feigning to rush wildly on HERMANN). May death seal thy +accursed lips! Art thou come here to give the death-blow to our father? +Father! Amelia! father! + +HERMANN. It was the last wish of my expiring comrade. "Take this +sword," faltered he, with his dying breath, "deliver it to my aged +father; his son's blood is upon it--he is avenged--let him rejoice. +Tell him that his curse drove me into battle and into death; that I fell +in despair." His last sigh was "Amelia." + +AMELIA (like one aroused from lethargy). His last sigh--Amelia! + +OLD M. (screaming horribly, and tearing his hair). My curse drove him +into death! He fell in despair! + +FRANCIS (pacing up and down the room). Oh! what have you done, father? +My Charles! my brother! + +HERMANN. Here is the sword; and here, too, is a picture which he drew +from his breast at the same time. It is the very image of this young +lady. "This for my brother Francis," he said; I know not what he meant +by it. + +FRANCIS (feigning astonishment). For me? Amelia's picture? For me-- +Charles--Amelia? For me? + +AMELIA (rushing violently upon HERMANN). Thou venal, bribed impostor! +(Lays hold of him.) + +HERMANN. I am no impostor, noble lady. See yourself if it is not your +picture. It may be that you yourself gave it to him. + +FRANCIS. By heaven, Amelia! your picture! It is, indeed. + +AMELIA (returns him the picture) My picture, mine! Oh! heavens and +earth! + +OLD M. (screaming and tearing his face.) Woe, woe! my curse drove him +into death! He fell in despair! + +FRANCIS. And he thought of me in the last and parting hour--of me. +Angelic soul! When the black banner of death already waved over him he +thought of me! + +OLD M. (stammering like an idiot.) My curse drove him into death. In +despair my son perished. + +HERMANN. This is more than I can bear! Farewell, old gentleman! +(Aside to FRANCIS.) How could you have the heart to do this? + [Exit in haste.] + +AMELIA (rises and rushes after him). Stay! stay! What were nis last +words? + +HERMANN (calling back). His last sigh was "Amelia." + [Exit.] + +AMELIA. His last sigh was Amelia! No, thou art no impostor. It is too +true--true--he is dead--dead! (staggering to and fro till she sinks +down)--dead--Charles is dead! + +FRANCIS. What do I see? What is this line on the sword?--written with +blood--Amelia! + +AMELIA. By him? + +FRANCIS. Do I see clearly, or am I dreaming? Behold, in characters of +blood, "Francis, forsake not my Amelia." And on the other side, +"Amelia, all-powerful death has released thee from thy oath." Now do +you see--do you see? With hand stiffening in death he wrote it, with +his warm life's blood he wrote it--wrote it on the solemn brink of +eternity. His spirit lingered in his flight to unite Francis and +Amelia. + +AMELIA. Gracious heaven! it is his own hand. He never loved me. + [Rushes off] + +FRANCIS (stamping the ground). Confusion! her stubborn heart foils all +my cunning! + +OLD MOOR. Woe, woe! forsake me not, my daughter! Francis, Francis! +give me back my son! + +FRANCIS. Who was it that cursed him? Who was it that drove his son +into battle, and death, and despair? Oh, he was an angel, a jewel of +heaven! A curse on his destroyers! A curse, a curse upon yourself! + +OLD MOOR (strikes his breast and forehead with his clenched fist). He +was an angel, a jewel of heaven! A curse, a curse, perdition, a curse +on myself! I am the father who slew his noble son! He loved me even to +death! To expiate my vengeance he rushed into battle and into death! +Monster, monster that I am! (He rages against himself.) + +FRANCIS. He is gone. What avail these tardy lamentations? (with a +satanic sneer.) It is easier to murder than to restore to life. You +will never bring him back from his grave. + +OLD Moon. Never, never, never bring him back from the grave! Gone! +lost for ever! And you it was that beguiled my heart to curse him.-- +you--you--Give me back my son! + +FRANCIS. Rouse not my fury, lest I forsake you even in the hour of +death! + +OLD MOOR. Monster! inhuman monster! Restore my son to me. (Starts +from the chair and attempts to catch FRANCIS by the throat, who flings +him back.) + +FRANCIS. Feeble old dotard I would you dare? Die! despair! + [Exit.] + +OLD MOOR. May the thunder of a thousand curses light upon thee! thou +hast robbed me of my son. (Throwing himself about in his chair full of +despair). Alas! alas! to despair and yet not die. They fly, they +forsake me in death; my guardian angels fly from me; all the saints +withdraw from the hoary murderer. Oh, misery! will no one support this +head, no one release this struggling soul? No son, no daughter, no +friend, not one human being--will no one? Alone--forsaken. Woe, woe! +To despair, yet not to die! + + + Enter AMELIA, her eyes red with weeping. + +OLD MOOR. Amelia I messenger of heaven! Art thou come to release my +soul? + +AMELIA (in a gentle tone). You have lost a noble son. + +OLD MOOR. Murdered him, you mean. With the weight of this impeachment +I shall present myself before the judgment-seat of God. + +AMELIA. Not so, old man! Our heavenly Father has taken him to himself. +We should have been too happy in this world. Above, above, beyond the +stars, we shall meet again. + +OLD MOOR. Meet again! Meet again! Oh! it will pierce my soul like a +Sword--should I, a saint, meet him among the saints. In the midst of +heaven the horrors of hell will strike through me! The remembrance of +that deed will crush me in the presence of the Eternal: I have murdered +my son! + +AMELIA. Oh, his smiles will chase away the bitter remembrance from your +soul! Cheer up, dear father! I am quite cheerful. Has he not already +sung the name of Amelia to listening angels on seraphic harps, and has +not heaven's choir sweetly echoed it? Was not his last sigh, Amelia? +And will not Amelia be his first accent of joy? + +OLD MOOR. Heavenly consolation flows from your lips! He will smile +upon me, you say? He will forgive me? You must stay with my, beloved +of my Charles, when I die. + +AMELIA. To die is to fly to his arms. Oh, how happy and enviable is +your lot! Would that my bones were decayed!--that my hairs were gray! +Woe upon the vigor of youth! Welcome, decrepid age, nearer to heaven +and my Charles! + + + Enter FRANCIS. + +OLD MOOR. Come near, my son! Forgive me if I spoke too harshly to you +just now! I forgive you all. I wish to yield up my spirit in peace. + +FRANCIS. Have you done weeping for your son? For aught that I see you +had but one. + +OLD MOOR. Jacob had twelve sons, but for his Joseph he wept tears of +blood. + +FRANCIS. Hum! + +OLD MOOR. Bring the Bible, my daughter, and read to me the story of +Jacob and Joseph! It always appeared to me so touching, even before I +myself became a Jacob. + +AMELIA. What part shall I read to you? (Takes the Bible and turns over +the leaves.) + +OLD MOOR. Read to me the grief of the bereaved father, when he found +his Joseph no more among his children;--when he sought him in vain +amidst his eleven sons;--and his lamentation when he heard that he was +taken from him forever. + +AMELIA (reads). "And they took Joseph's coat, and killed a kid of the +goats, and dipped the coat in the blood; and they sent the coat of many +colors, and they brought it to their father, and said, 'This have we +found: know now whether it be thy son's coat or no.' (Exit FRANCIS +suddenly.) And he knew it and said, 'It is my son's coat; an evil beast +hath devoured him; Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces'" + +OLD MOOR (falls back upon the pillow). An evil beast hath devoured +Joseph! + +AMELIA (continues reading). "And Jacob rent his clothes, and put +sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days. And all +his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him, but he refused to +be comforted, and he said, 'For I will go down into the grave'" + +OLD MOOR. Leave off! leave off. I feel very ill. + +AMELIA (running towards him, lets fall the book). Heaven help us! What +is this? + +OLD MOOR. It is death--darkness--is waving--before my eyes--I pray +thee--send for the minister--that he may--give me--the Holy Communion. +Where is--my son Francis? + +AMELIA. He is fled. God have mercy upon us! + +OLD MOOR. Fled--fled from his father's deathbed? And is that all--all +--of two children full of promise--thou hast given--thou hast--taken +away--thy name be-- + +AMELIA (with a sudden cry). Dead! both dead! + [Exit in despair.] + + + Enter FRANCIS, dancing with joy. + +FRANCIS. Dead, they cry, dead! Now am I master. Through the whole +castle it rings, dead! but stay, perchance he only sleeps? To be sure, +yes, to be sure! that certainly is a sleep after which no "good-morrow" +is ever said. Sleep and death are but twin-brothers. We will for once +change their names! Excellent, welcome sleep! We will call thee death! +(He closes the eyes of OLD MOOR.) Who now will come forward and dare to +accuse me at the bar of justice, or tell me to my face, thou art a +villain? Away, then, with this troublesome mask of humility and virtue! +Now you shall see Francis as he is, and tremble! My father was +overgentle in his demands, turned his domain into a family-circle, sat +blandly smiling at the gate, and saluted his peasants as brethren and +children. My brows shall lower upon you like thunderclouds; my lordly +name shall hover over you like a threatening comet over the mountains; +my forehead shall be your weather-glass! He would caress and fondle +the child that lifted its stubborn head against him. But fondling and +caressing is not my mode. I will drive the rowels of the spur into +their flesh, and give the scourge a trial. Under my rule it shall be +brought to pass that potatoes and small-beer shall be considered a +holiday treat; and woe to him who meets my eye with the audacious front +of health. Haggard want and crouching fear are my insignia; and in this +livery I will clothe ye. + [Exit.] + + + + + SCENE III.--THE BOHEMIAN WOODS. + + SPIEGELBERG, RAZMAN, A Troop Of ROBBERS. + + +RAZ. Are you come? Is it really you? Oh, let me squeeze thee into a +jelly, my dear heart's brother! Welcome to the Bohemian forests! Why, +you are grown quite stout and jolly! You have brought us recruits in +right earnest, a little army of them; you are the very prince of crimps. + +SPIEGEL. Eh, brother? Eli? And proper fellows they are! You must +confess the blessing of heaven is visibly upon me; I was a poor, hungry +wretch, and had nothing but this staff when I went over the Jordan, and +now there are eight-and-seventy of us, mostly ruined shopkeepers, +rejected masters of arts, and law-clerks from the Swabian provinces. +They are a rare set of fellows, brother, capital fellows, I promise you; +they will steal you the very buttons off each other's trousers in +perfect security, although in the teeth of a loaded musket,* and they +live in clover and enjoy a reputation for forty miles round, which is +quite astonishing. + + *[The acting edition reads, "Hang your hat up in the sun, and I'll + take you a wager it's gone the next minute, as clean out of sight + as if the devil himself had walked off with it."] + +There is not a newspaper in which you will not find some little feat or +other of that cunning fellow, Spiegelberg; I take in the papers for +nothing else; they have described me from head to foot; you would think +you saw me; they have not forgotten even my coat-buttons. But we lead +them gloriously by the nose. The other day I went to the printing- +office and pretended that I had seen the famous Spiegelberg, dictated to +a penny-a-liner who was sitting there the exact image of a quack doctor +in the town; the matter gets wind, the fellow is arrested, put to the +rack, and in his anguish and stupidity he confesses the devil take me if +he does not--confesses that he is Spiegelberg. Fire and fury! I was on +the point of giving myself up to a magistrate rather than have my fair +fame marred by such a poltroon; however, within three months he was +hanged. I was obliged to stuff a right good pinch of snuff into my nose +as some time afterwards I was passing the gibbet and saw the pseudo- +Spiegelberg parading there in all his glory; and, while Spiegelberg's +representative is dangling by the neck, the real Spiegelberg very +quietly slips himself out of the noose, and makes jolly long noses +behind the backs of these sagacious wiseacres of the law. + +RAZ. (laughing). You are still the same fellow you always were. + +SPIEGEL. Ay, sure! body and soul. But I must tell you a bit of fun, +my boy, which I had the other day in the nunnery of St. Austin. We fell +in with the convent just about sunset; and as I had not fired a single +cartridge all day,--you know I hate the /diem perdidi/ as I hate death +itself,--I was determined to immortalize the night by some glorious +exploit, even though it should cost the devil one of his ears! We kept +quite quiet till late in the night. At last all is as still as a mouse +--the lights are extinguished. We fancy the nuns must be comfortably +tucked up. So I take brother Grimm along with me, and order the others +to wait at the gate till they hear my whistle--I secure the watchman, +take the keys from him, creep into the maid-servants' dormitory, take. +away all their clothes, and whisk the bundle out at the window. We go +on from cell to cell, take away the clothes of one sister after another, +and lastly those of the lady-abbess herself. Then I sound my whistle, +and my fellows outside begin to storm and halloo as if doomsday was at +hand, and away they rush with the devil's own uproar into the cells of +the sisters! Ha, ha, ha! You should have seen the game--how the poor +creatures were groping about in the dark for their petticoats, and how +they took on when they found they were gone; and we, in the meantime, at +'em like very devils; and now, terrified and amazed, they wriggled under +their bedclothes, or cowered together like cats behind the stoves. +There was such shrieking and lamentation; and then the old beldame of an +abbess--you know, brother, there is nothing in the world I hate so much +as a spider and an old woman--so you may just fancy that wrinkled old +hag standing naked before me, conjuring me by her maiden modesty +forsooth! Well, I was determined to make short work of it; either, said +I, out with your plate and your convent jewels and all your shining +dollars, or--my fellows knew what I meant. The end of it was I brought +away more than a thousand dollars' worth out of the convent, to say +nothing of the fun, which will tell its own story in due time. + +RAZ. (stamping on the ground). Hang it, that I should be absent on +such an occasion. + +SPIEGEL. Do you see? Now tell me, is not that life? 'Tis that which +keeps one fresh and hale, and braces the body so that it swells hourly +like an abbot's paunch; I don't know, but I think I must be endowed with +some magnetic property, which attracts all the vagabonds on the face of +the earth towards me like steel and iron. + +RAZ. A precious magnet, indeed. But I should like to know, I'll be +hanged if I shouldn't, what witchcraft you use? + +SPIEGEL. Witchcraft? No need of witchcraft. All it wants is a head--a +certain practical capacity which, of course, is not taken in with every +spoonful of barley meal; for you know I have always said that an honest +man may be carved out of any willow stump, but to make a rogue you must +have brains; besides which it requires a national genius--a certain +rascal-climate--so to speak.* + + *[In the first (and suppressed) edition was added, "Go to the + Grisons, for instance; that is what I call the thief's Athens." + This obnoxious passage has been carefully expunged from all the + subsequent editions. It gave mortal offence to the Grison + magistrates, who made a formal complaint of the insult and caused + Schiller to be severely rebuked by the Grand Duke. This incident + forms one of the epochs in our author's history.] + +RAZ. Brother, I have heard Italy celebrated for its artists. + +SPIEGEL. Yes, yes! Give the devil his due. Italy makes a very noble +figure; and if Germany goes on as it has begun, and if the Bible gets +fairly kicked out, of which there is every prospect, Germany, too, may +in time arrive at something respectable; but I should tell you that +climate does not, after all, do such a wonderful deal; genius thrives +everywhere; and as for the rest, brother, a crab, you know, will never +become a pineapple, not even in Paradise. But to pursue our subject, +where did I leave off? + +RAZ. You were going to tell me about your stratagems. + +SPIEGEL. Ah, yes! my stratagems. Well, when you get into a town, the +first thing is to fish out from the beadles, watchmen, and turnkeys, who +are their best customers, and for these, accordingly, you must look out; +then ensconce yourself snugly in coffee-houses, brothels, and beer- +shops, and observe who cry out most against the cheapness of the times, +the reduced five per cents., and the increasing nuisance of police +regulations; who rail the loudest against government, or decry +physiognomical science, and such like? These are the right sort of +fellows, brother. Their honesty is as loose as a hollow tooth; you have +only to apply your pincers. Or a shorter and even better plan is to +drop a full purse in the public highway, conceal yourself somewhere +near, and mark who finds it. Presently after you come running up, +search, proclaim your loss aloud, and ask him, as it were casually, +"Have you perchance picked up a purse, sir?" If he says "Yes," why then +the devil fails you. But if he denies it, with a "pardon me, sir, I +remember, I am sorry, sir," (he jumps up), then, brother, you've done +the trick. Extinguish your lantern, cunning Diogenes, you have found +your match. + +RAZ. You are an accomplished practitioner. + +SPIEGEL. My God! As if that had ever been doubted. Well, then, when +you have got your man into the net, you must take great care to land him +cleverly. You see, my son, the way I have managed is thus: as soon as I +was on the scent I stuck to my candidate like a leech; I drank +brotherhood with him, and, /nota bene/, you must always pay the score. +That costs a pretty penny, it is true, but never mind that. You must go +further; introduce him to gaming-houses and brothels; entangle him in +broils and rogueries till he becomes bankrupt in health and strength, in +purse, conscience, and reputation; for I must tell you, by the way, that +you will make nothing of it unless you ruin both body and soul. Believe +me, brother, and I have experienced it more than fifty times in my +extensive practice, that when the honest man is once ousted from his +stronghold, the devil has it all his own way--the transition is then as +easy as from a whore to a devotee. But hark! What bang was that? + +RAZ. It was thunder; go on. + +SPIEGEL. Or, there is a yet shorter and still better way. You strip +your man of all he has, even to his very shirt, and then he will come to +you of his own accord; you won't teach me to suck eggs, brother; ask +that copper-faced fellow there. My eyes, how neatly I got him into my +meshes. I showed him forty ducats, which I promised to give him if he +would bring me an impression in wax of his master's keys. Only think, +the stupid brute not only does this, but actually brings me--I'll be +hanged if he did not--the keys themselves; and then thinks to get the +money. "Sirrah," said I, "are you aware that I am going to carry these +keys straight to the lieutenant of police, and to bespeak a place for +you on the gibbet?" By the powers! you should have seen how the +simpleton opened his eyes, and began to shake from head to foot like a +dripping poodle. "For heaven's sake, sir, do but consider. I will-- +will--" "What will you? Will you at once cut your stick and go to the +devil with me?" "Oh, with all my heart, with great pleasure." Ha! ha! +ha! my fine fellow; toasted cheese is the thing to catch mice with; do +have a good laugh at him, Razman; ha! ha! ha! + +RAZ. Yes, yes, I must confess. I shall inscribe that lesson in letters +of gold upon the tablet of my brain. Satan must know his people right +well to have chosen you for his factor. + +SPIEGEL. Eh, brother? Eli? And if I help him to half a score of +fellows he will, of course, let me off scot-free--publishers, you know, +always give one copy in ten gratis to those who collect subscribers for +them; why should the devil be more of a Jew? Razman, I smell powder. + +RAZ. Zounds! I smelt it long ago. You may depend upon it there has +being something going forward hereabouts. Yes, yes! I can tell you, +Spiegelberg, you will be welcome to our captain with your recruits; he, +too, has got hold of some brave fellows. + +SPIEGEL. But look at mine! at mine here, bah! + +RAZ. Well, well! they may be tolerably expert in the finger +department, but, I tell you, the fame of our captain has tempted even +some honorable men to join his staff. + +SPIEGEL. So much the worse. + +RAZ. Without joking. And they are not ashamed to serve under such a +leader. He does not commit murder as we do for the sake of plunder; and +as to money, as soon as he had plenty of it at command, he did not seem +to care a straw for it; and his third of the booty, which belongs to him +of right, he gives away to orphans, or supports promising young men with +it at college. But should he happen to get a country squire into his +clutches who grinds down his peasants like cattle, or some gold-laced +villain, who warps the law to his own purposes, and hoodwinks the eyes +of justice with his gold, or any chap of that kidney; then, my boy, he +is in his element, and rages like a very devil, as if every fibre in his +body were a fury. + +SPIEGEL. Humph! + +RAZ. The other day we were told at a tavern that a rich count from +Ratisbon was about to pass through, who had gained the day in a suit +worth a million of money by the craftiness of his lawyer. The captain +was just sitting down to a game of backgammon. "How many of us are +there?" said he to me, rising in haste. I saw him bite his nether lip, +which be never does except when he is very determined. "Not more than +five," I replied. "That's enough," he said; threw his score on the +table, left the wine he had ordered untouched, and off we went. The +whole time he did not utter a syllable, but walked aloof and alone, only +asking us from time to time whether we heard anything, and now and then +desiring us to lay our ears to the ground. At last the count came in +sight, his carriage heavily laden, the lawyer, seated by his side, an +outrider in advance, and two horsemen riding behind. Then you should +have seen the man. With a pistol in each hand he ran before us to the +carriage,--and the voice with which he thundered, "Halt!" The coachman, +who would not halt, was soon toppled from his box; the count fired out +of the carriage and missed--the horseman fled. "Your money, rascal!" +cried Moor, with his stentorian voice. The count lay like a bullock +under the axe: "And are you the rogue who turns justice into a venal +prostitute?" The lawyer shook till his teeth chattered again; and a +dagger soon stuck in his body, like a stake in a vineyard. "I have done +my part," cried the captain, turning proudly away; "the plunder is your +affair." And with this he vanished into the forest. + +SPIEGEL. Hum! hum! Brother, what I told you just now remains between +ourselves; there is no occasion for his knowing it. You understand me? + +RAZ. Yes, yes, I understand! + +SPIEGEL. You know the man! He has his own notions! You understand me? + +RAZ. Oh, I quite understand. + + (Enter SCHWARZ at full speed). + +Who's there? What is the matter? Any travellers in the forest? + +SCHWARZ. Quick, quick! Where are the others? Zounds! there you stand +gossiping! Don't you know--do you know nothing of it?--that poor +Roller-- + +PAZ. What of him? What of him? + +SCHWARZ. He's hanged, that's all, and four others with him-- + +RAz. Roller hanged? S'death! when? How do you know? + +SCHWARZ. He has been in limbo more than three weeks, and we knew +nothing of it. He was brought up for examination three several days, +and still we heard nothing. They put him to the rack to make him tell +where the captain was to be found--but the brave fellow would not slip. +Yesterday he got his sentence, and this morning was dispatched express +to the devil! + +RAZ. Confound it! Does the captain know? + +SCHWARZ. He heard of it only yesterday. He foamed like a wild boar. +You know that Roller was always an especial favorite; and then the rack! +Ropes and scaling-ladders were conveyed to the prison, but in vain. +Moor himself got access to him disguised as a Capuchin monk, and +proposed to change clothes with him; but Roller absolutely refused; +whereupon the captain swore an oath that made our very flesh creep. He +vowed that he would light a funeral pile for him, such as had never yet +graced the bier of royalty, one that should burn them all to cinders. I +fear for the city. He has long owed it a grudge for its intolerable +bigotry; and you know, when he says, "I'll do it," the thing is as good +as done. + +RAZ. That is true! I know the captain. If he had pledged his word to +the devil to go to hell he never would pray again, though half a pater- +noster would take him to heaven. Alas! poor Roller!--poor Roller! + +SPIEGEL. /Memento mori/! But it does not concern me. (Hums a tune). + + Should I happen to pass the gallows stone, + I shall just take a sight with one eye, + And think to myself, you may dangle alone, + Who now, sir, 's the fool, you or I? + +RAZ. (Jumping up). Hark! a shot! (Firing and noise is heard behind the +scenes). + +SPIEGEL. Another! + +RAZ. And another! The captain! + + (Voices behind the scenes are heard singing). + + The Nurnbergers deem it the wisest plan, + Never to hang till they've caught their man. + /Da capo/. + +SCHWEITZER and ROLLER (behind the scenes). Holla, ho! Holla, ho! + +RAZ. Roller! by all the devils! Roller! + +SCHWEITZER and ROLLER (still behind the scenes). +Razman! Schwarz! Spiegelberg! Razman! + +RAZ. Roller! Schweitzer! Thunder and lightning! +Fire and fury! (They run towards him.) + +Enter CHARLES VON MOOR (on horseback), SCHWEITZER, ROLLER, GRIMM, +SCHUFTERLE, and a troop of ROBBERS covered with dust and mud. + +CHARLES (leaping from his horse) Liberty! Liberty!--Thou art on terra +firma, Roller! Take my horse, Schweitzer, and wash him with wine. +(Throws himself on the ground.) That was hot work! + +RAZ. (to ROLLER). Well, by the fires of Pluto! Art thou risen from +the wheel? + +SCHWARZ. Art thou his ghost? or am I a fool? or art thou really the +man? + +ROLLER (still breathless). The identical--alive--whole.--Where do you +think I come from? + +SCHWARZ. It would puzzle a witch to tell! The staff was already broken +over you. + +ROLLER. Ay, that it was, and more than that! I come straightway from +the gallows. Only let me get my breath. Schweitzer will tell you all. +Give me a glass of brandy! You there too, Spiegelberg! I thought we +should have met again in another place. But give me a glass of brandy! +my bones are tumbling to pieces. Oh, my captain! Where is my captain? + +SCHWARZ. Have patience, man, have patience. Just tell me--say--come, +let's hear--how did you escape? In the name of wonder how came we to +get you back again? My brain is bewildered. From the gallows, you say? + +ROLLER (swallows a flask of brandy). Ah, that is capital! that warms +the inside! Straight from the gallows, I tell you. You stand there +amid stare as if that was impossible. I can assure you, I was not more +than three paces from that blessed ladder, on which I was to mount to +Abraham's bosom--so near, so very near, that I was sold, skin and all, +to the dissecting-room! The fee-simple of my life was not worth a pinch +of snuff. To the captain I am indebted for breath, and liberty, and +life. + +SCHWEITZER. It was a trick worth the telling. We had heard the day +before, through our spies, that Roller was in the devil's own pickle; +and unless the vault of heaven fell in suddenly he would, on the morrow +--that is, to-day--go the way of all flesh. Up! says the captain, and +follow me--what is not a friend worth? Whether we save him or not, we +will at least light him up a funeral pile such as never yet honored +royalty; one which shall burn them black and blue. The whole troop was +summoned. We sent Roller a trusty messenger, who conveyed the notice to +him in a little billet, which he slipped into his porridge. + +ROLLER. I had but small hope of success. + +SCHWEITZER. We waited till the thoroughfares were clear. The whole +town was out after the sight; equestrians, pedestrians, carriages, all +pell-mell; the noise and the gibbet-psalm sounded far and wide. Now, +says the captain, light up, light up! We all flew like darts; they set +fire to the city in three-and-thirty places at once; threw burning +firebrands on the powder-magazine, and into the churches and granaries. +Morbleu! in less than a quarter of an hour a northeaster, which, like +us, must have owed a grudge to the city, came seasonably to our aid, and +helped to lift the flames up to the highest gables. Meanwhile we ran up +and down the streets like furies, crying, fire! ho! fire! ho! in every +direction. There was such howling--screaming-tumult--fire-bells +tolling. And presently the powder-magazine blew up into the air with a +crash as if the earth were rent in twain, heaven burst to shivers, and +hell sunk ten thousand fathoms deeper. + +ROLLER. Now my guards looked behind them--there lay the city, like +Sodom and Gomorrah--the whole horizon was one mass of fire, brimstone, +and smoke; and forty hills echoed and reflected the infernal prank far +and wide. A panic seized them all--I take advantage of the moment, and, +quick as lightning--my fetters had been taken off, so nearly was my time +come--while my guards were looking away petrified, like Lot's wife, I +shot off--tore through the crowd--and away! After running some sixty +paces I throw off my clothes, plunge into the river, and swim along +under water till I think they have lost sight of me. My captain stood +ready, with horses and clothes--and here I am. Moor! Moor! I only +wish that you may soon get into just such another scrape that I may +requite you in like manner. + +RAZ. A brutal wish, for which you deserve to be hanged. It was a +glorious prank, though. + +ROLLER. It was help in need; you cannot judge of it. You should have +marched, like me, with a rope round your neck, travelling to your grave +in the living body, and seen their horrid sacramental forms and +hangman's ceremonies--and then, at every reluctant step, as the +struggling feet were thrust forward, to see the infernal machine, on +which I was to be elevated, glaring more and more hideously in the blaze +of a noonday sun--and the hangman's rascallions watching for their prey +--and the horrible psalm-singing--the cursed twang still rings in my +ears--and the screeching hungry ravens, a whole flight of them, who were +hovering over the half-rotten carcass of my predecessor. To see all +this--ay, more, to have a foretaste of the blessedness which was in +store for me! Brother, brother! And then, all of a sudden, the signal +of deliverance. It was an explosion as if the vault of heaven were rent +in twain. Hark ye, fellows! I tell you, if a man were to leap out of a +fiery furnace into a freezing lake he could not feel the contrast half +so strongly as I did when I gained the opposite shore. + +SPIEGEL. (Laughs.) Poor wretch! Well, you have got over it. (Pledges +him). Here's to a happy regeneration! + +ROLLER (flings away his glass). No, by all the treasures of Mammon, I +should not like to go through it a second time. Death is something more +than a harlequin's leap, and its terrors are even worse than death +itself. + +SPIEGEL. And the powder-magazine leaping into the air! Don't you see +it now, Razman? That was the reason the air stunk so, for miles round, +of brimstone, as if the whole wardrobe of Moloch was being aired under +the open firmament. It was a master-stroke, captain! I envy you for +it. + +SCHWEITZER. If the town makes it a holiday-treat to see our comrade +killed by a baited hog, why the devil should we scruple to sacrifice the +city for the rescue of our comrade? And, by the way, our fellows had +the extra treat of being able to plunder worse than the old emperor. +Tell me, what have you sacked? + +ONE OF THE TROOP. I crept into St. Stephen's church during the hubbub, +and tore the gold lace from the altarcloth. The patron saint, thought I +to myself, can make gold lace out of packthread. + +SCHWEITZER. 'Twas well done. What is the use of such rubbish in a +church? They offer it to the Creator, who despises such trumpery, while +they leave his creatures to die of hunger. And you, Sprazeler--where +did you throw your net? + +A SECOND. I and Brizal broke into a merchant's store, and have brought +stuffs enough with us to serve fifty men. + +A THIRD. I have filched two gold watches and a dozen silver spoons. + +SCHWEITZER. Well done, well done! And we have lighted them a bonfire +that will take a fortnight to put out again. And, to get rid of the +fire, they must ruin the city with water. Do you know, Schufterle, how +many lives have been lost? + +SCHUF. Eighty-three, they say. The powder-magazine alone blew +threescore to atoms. + +CHARLES (very seriously). Roller, thou art dearly bought. + +SCHUF. Bah! bah! What of that? If they had but been men it would have +been another matter--but they were babes in swaddling clothes, and +shrivelled old nurses that kept the flies from them, and dried-up stove- +squatters who could not crawl to the door--patients whining for the +doctor, who, with his stately gravity, was marching to the sport. All +that had the use of their legs had gone forth in the sight, and nothing +remained at home but the dregs of the city. + +CHARLES. Alas for the poor creatures! Sick people, sayest thou, old +men and infants? + +SCHUF. Ay, the devil go with them! And lying-in-women into the +bargain; and women far gone with child, who were afraid of miscarrying +under the gibbet; and young mothers, who thought the sight might do them +a mischief, and mark the gallows upon the foreheads of their unborn +babes--poor poets, without a shoe, because their only pair had been sent +to the cobbler to mend--and other such vermin, not worth the trouble of +mentioning. As I chanced to pass by a cottage I heard a great squalling +inside. I looked in; and, when I came to examine, what do you think it +was? Why, an infant--a plump and ruddy urchin--lying on the floor under +a table which was just beginning to burn. Poor little wretch! said I, +you will be cold there, and with that I threw it into the flames! + +CHARLES. Indeed, Schufterle? Then may those flames burn in thy bosom +to all eternity! Avaunt, monster! Never let me see thee again in my +troop! What! Do you murmur? Do you hesitate? Who dares hesitate when +I command? Away with him, I say! And there are others among you ripe +for my vengeance. I know thee, Spiegelberg. But I will step in among +you ere long, and hold a fearful muster-roll. + [Exeunt, trembling.] + +CHARLES (alone, walking up and down in great agitation). Hear them not, +thou avenger in heaven! How can I avert it? Art thou to blame, great +God, if thy engines, pestilence, and famine, and floods, overwhelm the +just with the unjust? Who can stay the flame, which is kindled to +destroy the hornet's nest, from extending to the blessed harvest? Oh! +fie on the slaughter of women, and children, and the sick! How this +deed weighs me down! It has poisoned my fairest achievements! There he +stands, poor fool, abashed and disgraced in the sight of heaven; the boy +that presumed to wield Jove's thunder, and overthrew pigmies when he +should have crushed Titans. Go, go! 'tis not for thee, puny son of +clay, to wield the avenging sword of sovereign justice! Thou didst fail +at thy first essay. Here, then, I renounce the audacious scheme. I go +to hide myself in some deep cleft of the earth, where no daylight will +be witness of my shame. (He is about to fly.) + + Enter a ROBBER hurriedly. + +ROBBER. Look out, captain! There is mischief in the wind! Whole +detachments of Bohemian cavalry are scouring the forests. That infernal +bailiff must have betrayed us. + + Enter more ROBBERS. + +2D ROBBER. Captain! captain! they have tracked us! Some thousands of +them are forming a cordon round the middle forest. + + Enter more ROBBERS again. + +3D ROBBER. Woe, woe, woe! we are all taken, hanged drawn, and +quartered. Thousands of hussars, dragoons, and chasseurs are mustering +on the heights, and guard all the passes. + [Exit CHARLES VON MOOR.] + + Enter SCHWEITZER, GRIMM, ROLLER, SCHWARZ, SCHUFTERLE, + SPIEGELBERG, RAZMAN, and the whole troop. + +SCHWEITZER. Ha! Have we routed them out of their feather-beds at last? +Come, be jolly, Roller! I have long wished to have a bout with those +knights of the bread-basket. Where is the captain? Is the whole troop +assembled? I hope we have powder enough? + +RAZ. Powder, I believe you; but we are only eighty in all and therefore +scarcely one to twenty. + +SCHWEITZER. So much the better! And though there were fifty against +my great toe-nail--fellows who have waited till we lit the straw under +their very seats. Brother, brother, there is nothing to fear. They +sell their lives for tenpence; and are we not fighting for our necks? +We will pour into them like a deluge, and fire volleys upon their heads +like crashes of thunder. But where the devil is the captain. + +SPIEGEL. He forsakes us in this extremity. Is there no hope of escape? + +SCHWEITZER. Escape? + +SPIEGEL. Oh, that I had tarried in Jerusalem! + +SCHWEITZER. I wish you were choked in a cesspool, you paltry coward! +With defenceless nuns you are a mighty man; but at sight of a pair of +fists a confirmed sneak! Now show your courage or you shall be sewn up +alive in an ass's hide and baited to death with dogs. + +RAZ. The captain! the captain! + + Enter CHARLES (speaking slowly to himself). + +CHARLES. I have allowed them to be hemmed in on every side. Now they +must fight with the energy of despair. (Aloud.) Now my boys! now for +it! We must fight like wounded boars, or we are utterly lost! + +SCHWEITZER. Ha! I'll rip them open with my tusks, till their entrails +protrude by the yard! Lead on, captain! we will follow you into the +very jaws of death. + +CHARLES. Charge all your arms! You've plenty of powder, I hope? + +SCHWEITZER (with energy). Powder? ay, enough to blow the earth up to +the moon. + +RAZ. Every one of us has five brace of pistols, ready loaded, and three +carbines to boot. + +CHARLES. Good! good! Now some of you must climb up the trees, or +conceal yourselves in the thickets, and some fire upon them in ambush-- + +SCHWEITZER. That part will suit you, Spiegelberg. + +CHARLES. The rest will follow me, and fall upon their flanks like +furies. + +SCHWEITZER. There will I be! + +CHARLES. At the same time let every man make his whistle ring through +the forest, and gallop about in every direction, so that our numbers may +appear the more formidable. And let all the dogs be unchained, and set +on upon their ranks, that they may be broken and dispersed and run in +the way of our fire. We three, Roller, Schweitzer, and myself, will +fight wherever the fray is hottest. + +SCHWEITZER. Masterly! excellent! We will so bewilder them with balls +that they shall not know whence the salutes are coming. I have more +than once shot away a cherry from the mouth. Only let them come on +(SCHUFTERLE is pulling SCHWEITZER; the latter takes the captain aside, +and entreats him in a low voice.) + +CHARLES. Silence! + +SCHWEITZER. I entreat you-- + +CHARLES. Away! Let him have the benefit of his disgrace; it has saved +him. He shall not die on the same field with myself, my Schweitzer, and +my Roller. Let him change his apparel, and I will say he is a traveller +whom I have plundered. Make yourself easy, Schweitzer. Take my word +for it he will be hanged yet. + + Enter FATHER DOMINIC. + +FATHER DOM. (to himself, starts). Is this the dragon's nest? With your +leave, sirs! I am a servant of the church; and yonder are seventeen +hundred men who guard every hair of my head. + +SCHWEITZER. Bravo! bravo! Well spoken to keep his courage warm. + +CHARLES. Silence, comrade! Will you tell us briefly, good father, what +is your errand here? + +FATHER Dom. I am delegated by the high justices, on whose sentence +hangs life or death--ye thieves--ye incendiaries--ye villains--ye +venomous generation of vipers, crawling about in the dark, and stinging +in secret--ye refuse of humanity--brood of hell--food for ravens and +worms--colonists for the gallows and the wheel-- + +SCHWEITZER. Dog! a truce with your foul tongue! or ------ +(He holds the butt-end of his gun before FATHER DOMINIC'S face.) + +CHARLES. Fie, fie, Schweitzer! You cut the thread of his discourse. +He has got his sermon so nicely by heart. Pray go on, Sir! "for the +gallows and the wheel?" + +FATHER Dom. And thou, their precious captain!--commander-in-chief of +cut-purses!--king of sharpers! Grand Mogul of all the rogues under the +sun!--great prototype of that first hellish ringleader who imbued a +thousand legions of innocent angels with the flame of rebellion, and +drew them down with him into the bottomless pit of damnation! The +agonizing cries of bereaved mothers pursue thy footsteps! Thou drinkest +blood like water! and thy murderous knife holds men cheaper than air- +bubbles! + +CHARLES. Very true--exceedingly true! Pray proceed, Sir! + +FATHER DOM. What do you mean? Very true--exceedingly true! Is that an +answer? + +CHARLES. How, Sir? You were not prepared for that, it seems? Go on-- +by all means go on. What more were you going to say? + +FATHER DOM. (heated). Abominable wretch! Avaunt! Does not the blood +of a murdered count of the empire cling to thy accursed fingers? Hast +thou not, with sacrilegious hands, dared to break into the Lord's +sanctuary, and carry off the consecrated vessels of the /sanctissimum/? +Hast thou not flung firebrands into our godly city, and brought down the +powder-magazine upon the heads of devout Christians? (Clasps his +hands). Horrible, horrible wickedness! that stinketh in the nostrils of +Heaven, and provoketh the day of judgment to burst upon you suddenly! +ripe for retribution--rushing headlong to the last trump! + +CHARLES. Masterly guesses thus far! But now, sir, to the point! What +is it that the right worshipful justices wish to convey to me through +you? + +FATHER Dom. What you are not worthy to receive. Look around you, +incendiary! As far as your eye can reach you are environed by our +horsemen--there is no chance of escape. As surely as cherries grow on +these oaks, and peaches on these firs, so surely shall you turn your +backs upon these oaks and these firs in safety. + +CHARLES. Do you hear that, Schweitzer? But go on! + +FATHER DOM. Hear, then, what mercy and forbearance justice shows +towards such miscreants. If you instantly prostrate yourselves in +submission and sue for mercy and forgiveness, then severity itself will +relent to compassion, and justice be to thee an indulgent mother. She +will shut one eye upon your horrible crimes, and be satisfied--only +think!--to let you be broken on the wheel. + +SCHWEITZER. Did you hear that, captain? Shall I throttle this well- +trained shepherd's cur till the red blood spurts from every pore? + +ROLLER. Captain! Fire and fury! Captain! How he bites his lip! +Shall I topple this fellow upside down like a ninepin? + +SCHWEITZER. Mine, mine be the job! Let me kneel to you, captain; let +me implore you! I beseech you to grant me the delight of pounding him +to a jelly! (FATHER DOMINIC screams.) + +CHARLES. Touch him not! Let no one lay a finger on him!--(To FATHER +DOMINIC, drawing his sword.) Hark ye, sir father! Here stand nine-and- +seventy men, of whom I am the captain, and not one of them has been +taught to trot at a signal, or learned to dance to the music of +artillery; while yonder stand seventeen hundred men grown gray under the +musket. But now listen! Thus says Moor, the captain of incendiaries. +It is true I have slain a count of the empire, burnt and plundered the +church of St. Dominic, flung firebrands into your bigoted city, and +brought down the powder-magazine upon the heads of devout Christians. +But that is not all,--I have done more. (He holds out his right hand.) +Do you observe these four costly rings, one on each finger? Go and +report punctually to their worships, on whose sentence hangs life or +death what you shall hear and see. This ruby I drew from the finger of +a minister, whom I stretched at the feet of his prince, during the +chase. He had fawned himself up from the lowest dregs, to be the first +favorite;--the ruin of his neighbor was his ladder to greatness-- +orphans' tears helped him to mount it. This diamond I took from a lord +treasurer, who sold offices of honor and trust to the highest bidder, +and drove the sorrowing patriot from his door. This opal I wear in +honor of a priest of your cloth, whom I dispatched with my own hand, +after he had publicly deplored in his pulpit the waning power of the +Inquisition. I could tell you more stories about my rings, but that I +repent the words I have already wasted upon you-- + +FATHER DOM. O Pharaoh! Pharaoh! + +CHARLES. Do you hear it? Did you mark that sigh? Does he not stand +there as if be were imploring fire from heaven to descend and destroy +this troop of Korah? He pronounces judgment with a shrug of the +shoulders, and eternal damnation with a Christian "Alas!" Is it +possible for humanity to be so utterly blind? He who has the hundred +eyes of Argus to spy out the faults of his brother--can he be so totally +blind to his own? They thunder forth from their clouds about gentleness +and forbearance, while they sacrifice human victims to the God of love +as if he were the fiery Moloch. They preach the love of one's neighbor, +while they drive the aged and blind with curses from their door. They +rave against covetousness; yet for the sake of gold they have +depopulated Peru, and yoked the natives, like cattle, to their chariots. +They rack their brains in wonder to account for the creation of a Judas +Iscariot, yet the best of them would betray the whole Trinity for ten +shekels. Out upon you, Pharisees! ye falsifiers of truth! ye apes of +Deity! You are not ashamed to kneel before crucifixes and altars; you +lacerate your backs with thongs, and mortify your flesh with fasting; +and with these pitiful mummeries you think, fools as you are, to veil +the eyes of Him whom, with the same breath, you address as the +Omniscient, just as the great are the most bitterly mocked by those who +flatter them while they pretend to hate flatterers. You boast of your +honesty and your exemplary conduct; but the God who sees through your +hearts would be wroth with Him that made you, were He not the same that +had also created the monsters of the Nile. Away with him out of my +sight! + +FATHER DOM. That such a miscreant should be so proud! + +CHARLES. That's not all. Now I will speak proudly. Go and tell the +right worshipful justices--who set men's lives upon the cast of a die-- +I am not one of those thieves who conspire with sleep and midnight, and +play the hero and the lordling on a scaling-ladder. What I have done I +shall no doubt hereafter be doomed to read in the register of heaven; +but with his miserable ministers of earth I will waste no more words. +Tell your masters that my trade is retribution--vengeance my occupation! +(He turns his back upon him.) + +FATHER DOM. Then you despise mercy and forbearance?---Be it so, I have +done with you. (Turning to the troop.) Now then, sirs, you shall hear +what the high powers direct me to make known to you!--If you will +instantly deliver up to me this condemned malefactor, bound hand and +foot, you shall receive a full pardon--your enormities shall be entirely +blotted out, even from memory. The holy church will receive you, like +lost sheep, with renewed love, into her maternal bosom, and the road to +honorable employment shall be open to you all. (With a triumphant +smile.) Now sir! how does your majesty relish this? Come on! bind him! +and you are free! + +CHARLES. Do you hear that? Do you hear it? What startles you? Why do +you hesitate? They offer you freedom--you that are already their +prisoners. They grant you your lives, and that is no idle pretence, for +it is clear you are already condemned felons. They promise you honor +and emolument; and, on the other hand, what can you hope for, even +should you be victorious to-day, but disgrace, and curses, and +persecution? They ensure you the pardon of Heaven; you that are +actually damned. There is not a single hair on any of you that is not +already bespoke in hell. Do you still hesitate? are you staggered? Is +it so difficult, then, to choose between heaven and hell?--Do put in a +word, father! + +FATHER DOM. (aside.) Is the fellow crazy? (Aloud.) Perhaps you are +afraid that this is a trap to catch you alive?--Read it yourselves! +Here--is the general pardon fully signed. (He hands a paper to +SCHWEITZER.) Can you still doubt? + +CHARLES. Only see! only see! What more can you require? Signed with +their own hands! It is mercy beyond all bounds! Or are you afraid of +their breaking their word, because you have heard it said that no faith +need be kept with traitors? Dismiss that fear! Policy alone would +constrain them to keep their word, even though it should merely have +been pledged to old Nick. Who hereafter would believe them? How could +they trade with it a second time? I would take my oath upon it that +they mean it sincerely. They know that I am the man who has goaded you +on and incited you; they believe you innocent. They look upon your +crimes as so many juvenile errors--exuberances of rashness. It is I +alone they want. I must pay the penalty. Is it not so, father? + +FATHER DOM. What devil incarnate is it that speaks out of him? Of +course it is so--of course. The fellow turns my brain. + +CHARLES. What! no answer yet? Do you think it possible to cut your way +through yon phalanx? Only look round you! just look round! You surely +do not reckon upon that; that were indeed a childish conceit--Or do you +flatter yourselves that you will fall like heroes, because you saw that +I rejoiced in the prospect of the fight? Oh, do not console yourself +with the thought! You are not MOOR. You are miserable thieves! +wretched tools of my great designs! despicable as the rope in the hand +of the hangman! No! no! Thieves do not fall like heroes. Life must be +the hope of thieves, for something fearful has to follow. Thieves may +well be allowed to quake at the fear of death. Hark! Do you hear their +horns echoing through the forest? See there! how their glittering +sabres threaten! What! are you still irresolute? are you mad? are you +insane? It is unpardonable. Do you imagine I shall thank you for my +life? I disdain your sacrifice! + +FATHER DOM. (in utter amazement). I shall go mad! I must be gone! +Was the like ever heard of? + +CHARLES. Or are you afraid that I shall stab myself, and so by suicide +put an end to the bargain, which only holds good if I am given up alive? +No, comrades! that is a vain fear. Here, I fling away my dagger, and my +pistols, and this phial of poison, which might have been a treasure to +me. I am so wretched that I have lost the power even over my own life. +What! still in suspense? Or do you think, perhaps, that I shall stand +on my defence when you try to seize me? See here! I bind my right hand +to this oak-branch; now I am quite defenceless, a child may overpower +me. Who is the first to desert his captain in the hour of need? + +ROLLER (with wild energy). And what though hell encircle us with +ninefold coils! (Brandishing his sword.) Who is the coward that will +betray his captain? + +SCHWEITZER (tears the pardon and flings the pieces into FATHER DOMINIC'S +face). Pardon be in our bullets! Away with thee, rascal! Tell your +senate that you could not find a single traitor in all Moor's camp. +Huzza! Huzza! Save the captain! + +ALL (shouting). Huzza! Save the captain! Save him! Save our noble +captain! + +CHARLES (releasing his hand from the tree, joyfully). Now we are free, +comrades! I feel a host in this single arm! Death or liberty! At the +least they shall not take a man of us alive! + + [They sound the signal for attack; noise and tumult. + Exeunt with drawn swords.] + + + + + ACT III. + + SCENE I.--AMELIA in the garden, playing the guitar. + + Bright as an angel from Walhalla's hall, + More beautiful than aught of earth was he! + Heaven-mild his look, as sunbeams when they fall, + Reflected from a calm cerulean sea. + + His warm embrace--oh, ravishing delight! + With heart to heart the fiery pulses danced-- + Our every sense wrap'd in ecstatic night-- + Our souls in blissful harmony entranced. + + His kisses--oh, what paradise of feeling! + E'en as two flames which round each other twine-- + Or flood of seraph harp-tones gently stealing + In one soft swell, away to realms divine! + + They rushed, commingled, melted, soul in soul! + Lips glued to lips, with burning tremor bound! + Cold earth dissolved, and love without control + Absorbed all sense of worldly things around! + + He's gone!--forever gone! Alas! in vain + My bleeding heart in bitter anguish sighs; + To me is left alone this world of pain, + And mortal life in hopeless sorrow dies. + + + Enter FRANCIS. + +FRANCIS. Here again already, perverse enthusiast? You stole away from +the festive banquet, and marred the mirthful pleasures of my guests. + +AMELIA. 'Tis pity, truly, to mar such innocent pleasures! Shame on +them! The funeral knell that tolled over your father's grave must still +be ringing in your ears-- + +FRANCIS. Wilt thou sorrow, then, forever? Let the dead sleep in peace, +and do thou make the living happy! I come-- + +AMELIA. And when do you go again? + +FRANCIS. Alas! Look not on me thus sorrowfully! You wound me, Amelia. +I come to tell you-- + +AMELIA. To tell me, I suppose, that Francis von Moor has become lord +and master here. + +FRANCIS. Precisely so; that is the very subject on which I wish to +communicate with you. Maximilian von Moor is gone to the tomb of his +ancestors. I am master. But I wish--to be so in the fullest sense, +Amelia. You know what you have been to our house always regarded as +Moor's daughter, his love for you will survive even death itself; that, +assuredly, you will never forget? + +AMELIA. Never, never! Who could be so unfeeling as to drown the memory +of it in festive banqueting? + +FRANCIS. It is your duty to repay the love of the father to his sons; +and Charles is dead. Ha! you are struck with amazement; dizzy with the +thought! To be sure 'tis a flattering and an elating prospect which may +well overpower the pride of a woman. Francis tramples under foot the +hopes of the noblest and the richest, and offers his heart, his hand, +and with them all his gold, his castles, and his forests to a poor, and, +but for him, destitute orphan. Francis--the feared--voluntarily +declares himself Amelia's slave! + +AMELIA. Why does not a thunderbolt cleave the impious tongue which +utters the criminal proposal! Thou hast murdered my beloved Charles; +and shall Amelia, his betrothed, call thee husband? Thou? + +FRANCIS. Be not so violent, most gracious princess! It is true that +Francis does not come before you like a whining Celadon--'tis true he +has not learned, like a lovesick swain of Arcadia, to sigh forth his +amorous plaints to the echo of caves and rocks. Francis speaks--and, +when not answered, commands! + +AMELIA. Commands? thou reptile! Command me? And what if I laughed +your command to scorn? + +FRANCIS. That you will hardly do. There are means, too, which I know +of, admirably adapted to humble the pride of a capricious, stubborn +girl--cloisters and walls! + +AMELIA. Excellent! delightful! to be forever secure within cloisters +and walls from thy basilisk look, and to have abundant leisure to think +and dream of Charles. Welcome with your cloister! welcome your walls! + +FRANCIS. Ha! Is that it? Beware! Now you have taught me the art of +tormenting you. The sight of me shall, like a fiery-haired fury, drive +out of your head these eternal phantasies of Charles. Francis shall be +the dread phantom ever lurking behind the image of your beloved, like +the fiend-dog that guards the subterranean treasure. I will drag you to +church by the hair, and sword in hand wring the nuptial vow from your +soul. By main force will I ascend your virginal couch, and storm your +haughty modesty with still greater haughtiness. + +AMELIA (gives him a slap in the face). Then take that first by way of +dowry! + +FRANCIS. Ha! I will be tenfold, and twice tenfold revenged for this! +My wife! No, that honor you shall never enjoy. You shall be my +mistress, my strumpet! The honest peasant's wife shall point her finger +at you as she passes you in the street. Ay, gnash your teeth as +fiercely as you please--scatter fire and destruction from your eyes-- +the fury of a woman piques my fancy--it makes you more beautiful, more +tempting. Come, this resistance will garnish my triumph, and your +struggles give zest to my embraces. Come, come to my chamber--I burn +with desire. Come this instant. (Attempts to drag her away). + +AMELIA (falls on his neck). Forgive me, Francis! (As he is about to +clasp her in his arms, she suddenly draws the sword at his side, and +hastily disengages herself). Do you see now, miscreant, how I am able +to deal with you? I am only a woman, but a woman enraged. Dare to +approach, and this steel shall strike your lascivious heart to the core +--the spirit of my uncle will guide my hand. Avaunt, this instant! +(She drives him away). + +Ah! how different I feel! Now I breathe again--I feel strong as the +snorting steed, ferocious as the tigress when she springs upon the +ruthless destroyer of her cubs. To a cloister, did he say? I thank +thee for the happy thought! Now has disappointed love found a place of +refuge--the cloister--the Redeemer's bosom is the sanctuary of +disappointed love. (She is on the point going). + + . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . + +In the acting edition the following scene occurs between Herman and +Francis, immediately before that with Amelia. As Schiller himself +thought this among the happiest of his additions, and regretted that it +was "entirely and very unfortunately overlooked in the first edition," +it seems desirable to introduce it here as well as the soliloquy +immediately following, which has acquired some celebrity. + + + + SCENE VIII. + + Enter HERMANN. + +FRANCIS. Ha! Welcome, my Euryalus! My prompt and trusty instrument! + +HERMANN (abruptly and peevishly). You sent for me, count--why? + +FRANCIS. That you might put the seal to your master-piece. + +HERMANN (gruffly). Indeed? + +FRANCIS. Give the picture its finishing touch. + +HERMANN. Poh! Poh! + +FRANCIS (startled). Shall I call the carriage? We'll arrange the +business during the drive? + +HERMANN (scornfully). No ceremony, sir, if you please. For any +business we may have to arrange there is room enough between these four +walls. At all events I'll just say a few words to you by way of +preface, which may save your lungs some unnecessary exertion. + +FRANCIS (reservedly). Hum! And what may those words be? + +HERMANN (with bitter irony). "You shall have Amelia--and that from my +hand--" + +FRANCIS (with astonishment). Hermann! + +HERMANN (as before, with his back turned on FRANCIS). "Amelia will +become the plaything of my will--and you may easily guess the rest-in +short all will go as we wish" (Breaks into an indignant laugh, and then +turns haughtily to FRANCIS.) Now, Count von Moor, what have you to say +to me? + +FRANCIS (evasively). To thee? Nothing. I had something to say to +Hermann.-- + +HERMANN, No evasion. Why was I sent for hither? Was it to be your dupe +a second time! and to hold the ladder for a thief to mount? to sell my +soul for a hangman s fee? What else did you want with me? + +FRANCIS (as if recollecting). Ha! It just occurs to me! We must not +forget the main point. Did not my steward mention it to you? I wanted +to talk to you about the dowry. + +HERMANN. This is mere mockery sir; or, if not mockery, something worse. +Moor, take care of yourself-beware how you kindle my fury, Moor. We are +alone! And I have still an unsullied name to stake against yours! +Trust not the devil, although he be of your own raising. + +FRANCIS (with dignity). Does this deportment become thee towards thy +sovereign and gracious master? Tremble, slave! + +HERMANN (ironically). For fear of your displeasure, I suppose? What +signifies your displeasure to a man who is at war with himself? Fie, +Moor. I already abhor you as a villain; let me not despise you for a +fool. I can open graves, and restore the dead to life! Which of us now +is the slave? + +FRANCIS (in a conciliating tone). Come, my good friend, be discreet, +and do not prove faithless. + +HERMANN. Pshaw! To expose a wretch like you is here the best +discretion--to keep faith with you would be an utter want of sense. +Faith? with whom? Faith with the prince of liars? Oh, I shudder at the +thought of such faith. A very little timely faithlessness would have +almost made a saint of me. But patience! patience! Revenge is cunning +in resources. + +FRANCIS. Ah, by-the-by, I just remember. You lately lost a purse with +a hundred louis in it, in this apartment. I had almost forgotten it. +Here, my good friend! take back what belongs to you. (Offers him a +purse). + +HERMANN (throws it scornfully at his feet). A curse on your Judas +bribe! It is the earnest-money of hell. You once before thought to +make my poverty a pander to my conscience--but you were mistaken, count! +egregiously mistaken. That purse of gold came most opportunely--to +maintain certain persons. + +FRANCIS (terrified). Hermann! Hermann! Let me not suspect certain +things of you. Should you have done anything contrary to my +instructions--you would be the vilest of traitors! + +HERMANN (exultingly). Should I? Should I really? Well then count, +let me give you a little piece of information! (Significantly.) I will +fatten up your infamy, and add fuel to your doom. The book of your +misdeeds shall one day be served up as a banquet, and all the world be +invited to partake of it. (Contemptuously.) Do you understand me now, +my most sovereign, gracious, and excellent master? + +FRANCIS (starts up, losing all command of himself). Ha! Devil! +Deceitful impostor! (Striking his forehead.) To think that I should +stake my fortune on the caprice of an idiot! That was madness! (Throws +himself, in great excitement, on a couch.) + +HERMANN (whistles through his fingers). Wheugh! the biter bit!-- + +FRANCIS (biting his lip). But it is true, and ever will be true--that +there is no thread so feebly spun, or which snaps asunder so readily, as +that which weaves the bands of guilt!-- + +HERMANN. Gently! Gently! Are angels, then, superseded, that devils +turn moralists? + +FRANCIS (starts up abruptly; to HERMANN with a malignant laugh). And +certain persons will no doubt acquire much honor by making the +discovery? + +HERMANN (clapping his hands). Masterly! Inimitable! You play your +part to admiration! First you lure the credulous fool into the slough, +and then chuckle at the success of your malice, and cry "Woe be to you +sinner!" (Laughing and clenching his teeth.) Oh, how cleverly these +imps off the devil manoeuvre. But, count (clapping him on the shoulder) +you have not yet got your lesson quite perfect--by Heavens! You first +learn what the losing gamester will hazard. Set fire to the powder- +magazine, says the pirate, and blow all to hell--both friend and foe! + +FRANCIS (runs to the wall, and takes down a pistol). Here is treason! +I must be resolute-- + +HERMANN (draws a pistol as quickly from his pocket, and presents it at +him). Don't trouble yourself--one must be prepared for everything with +you. + +FRANCIS (lets the pistol fall, and throws himself on the sofa in great +confusion). Only keep my council till--till I have collected my +thoughts. + +HERMANN. I suppose till you have hired a dozen assassins to silence my +tongue forever! Is it not so! But (in his ear) the secret is committed +to paper, which my heirs will publish. + [Exit.] + + + + + SCENE IX. + + FRANCIS, solus. + +Francis! Francis! Francis! What is all this? Where was thy courage? +where thy once so fertile wit? Woe! Woe! And to be betrayed by thy +own instruments! The pillars of my good fortune are tottering to their +fall, the fences are broken down, and the raging enemy is already +bursting in upon me. Well! this calls for some bold and sudden resolve! +What if I went in person--and secretly plunged this sword in his body? +A wounded man is but a child. Quick! I'll do it. (He walks with a +resolute step to the end of the stage, but stops suddenly as if overcome +by sensations of horror). Who are these gliding behind me? (Rolling +his eyes fearfully) Faces such as I have never yet beheld. What +hideous yells do I hear! I feel that I have courage--courage! oh yes to +overflowing! But if a mirror should betray me? or my shadow! or the +whistling of the murderous stroke! Ugh! Ugh! How my hair bristles! A +shudder creeps through my frame. (He lets a poigniard fall from under +his clothes.) I am no coward--perhaps somewhat too tenderhearted. Yes! +that is it! These are the last struggles of expiring virtue. I revere +them. I should indeed be a monster were I to become the murderer of my +own brother. No! no! no! That thought be far from me! Let me cherish +this vestige of humanity. I will not murder. Nature, thou hast +conquered. I still feel something here that seems like--affection. He +shall live. + [Exit.] + + Enter HERMANN, timidly. + +HERMANN. Lady Amelia! Lady Amelia! + +AMELIA. Unhappy man! why dost thou disturb me? + +HERMANN. I must throw this weight from my soul before it drags it down +to hell. (Falls down before her.) Pardon! pardon! I have grievously +injured you, Lady Amelia! + +AMELIA. Arise! depart! I will hear nothing. (Going.) + +HERMANN (detaining her). No; stay! In the name of Heaven! In the name +of the Eternal! You must know all! + +AMELIA. Not another word. I forgive you. Depart in peace. (In the +act of going.) + +HERMANN. Only one word--listen; it will restore all your peace of mind. + +AMELIA (turning back and looking at him with astonishment). How, +friend? Who in heaven or on earth can restore my peace of mind? + +HERMANN. One word from my lips can do it. Hear me! + +AMELIA (seizing his hand with compassion). Good sir! Can one word from +thy lips burst asunder the portals of eternity? + +HERMANN. (rising). Charles lives! + +AMELIA (screaming). Wretch! + +HERMANN. Even so. And one word more. Your uncle-- + +AMELIA. (rushing upon him). Thou liest! + +HERMANN. Your uncle-- + +AMELIA. Charles lives? + +HERMANN. And your uncle-- + +AMELIA. Charles lives? + +HERMANN. And your uncle too--betray me not! + + (HERMANN runs off) + +AMELIA (stands a long while like one petrified; after which she starts +up wildly, and rushes after HERMANN.) Charles lives! + + + + + SCENE II.--Country near the Danube. + + THE ROBBERS (encamped on a rising ground, under trees, + their horses are grazing below.) + +CHARLES. Here must I lie (throwing himself upon the ground). I feel as +if my limbs were all shattered. My tongue is as dry as a potsherd +(SCHWEITZER disappears unperceived.) I would ask one of you to bring me +a handful of water from that stream, but you are all tired to death. + +SCHWARZ. Our wine-flasks too are all empty. + +CHARLES. See how beautiful the harvest looks! The trees are breaking +with the weight of their fruit. The vines are full of promise. + +GRIMM. It is a fruitful year. + +CHARLES. Do you think so? Then at least one toil in the world will be +repaid. One? Yet in the night a hailstorm may come and destroy it all. + +SCHWARZ. That is very possible. It all may be destroyed an hour before +the reaping. + +CHARLES. Just what I say. All will be destroyed. Why should man +prosper in that which he has in common with the ant, while he fails in +that which places him on a level with the gods. Or is this the aim and +limit of his destiny? + +SCHWARZ. I know not. + +CHARLES. Thou hast said well; and wilt have done better, if thou never +seekest to know. Brother, I have looked on men, their insect cares and +their giant projects,--their god-like plans and mouse-like occupations, +their intensely eager race after happiness--one trusting to the +fleetness of his horse,--another to the nose of his ass,--a third to his +own legs; this checkered lottery of life, in which so many stake their +innocence and their leaven to snatch a prize, and,--blanks are all they +draw--for they find, too late, that there was no prize in the wheel. It +is a drama, brother, enough to bring tears into your eyes, while it +shakes your sides with laughter. + +SCHWARZ. How gloriously the sun is setting yonder! + +CHARLES (absorbed in the scene). So dies a hero! Worthy of adoration! + +SCHWARZ. You seem deeply moved. + +CHARLES. When I, was but a boy--it was my darling thought to live like +him, like him to die--(with suppressed grief.) It was a boyish thought! + +GRIMM. It was, indeed. + +CHARLES. There was a time--(pressing his hat down upon his face). +I would be alone, comrades. + +SCHWARZ. Moor! Moor! Why, what the deuce! How his color changes. + +GRIMM. By all the devils! What ails him? Is he ill? + +CHARLES. There was a time when I could not have slept had I forgotten +my evening prayers. + +GRIMM. Are you beside yourself? Would you let the remembrances of your +boyish years school you now? + +CHARLES (lays his head upon the breast of GRIMM). Brother! Brother! + +GRIMM. Come! Don't play the child--I pray you + +CHARLES. Oh that I were-that I were again a child! + +GRIMM. Fie! fie! + +SCHWARZ. Cheer up! Behold this smiling landscape--this delicious +evening! + +CHARLES. Yes, friends, this world is very lovely-- + +SCHWARZ. Come, now, that was well said. + +CHARLES. This earth so glorious!-- + +GRIMM. Right--right--I love to hear you talk thus. + +CHARLES. (sinking back). And I so hideous in' this lovely world-- +a monster on this glorious earth! + +GRIMM. Oh dear! oh dear! + +CHARLES. My innocence! give me back my innocence! Behold, every living +thing is gone forth to bask in the cheering rays of the vernal sun--why +must I alone inhale the torments of hell out of the joys of heaven? All +are so happy, all so united in brotherly love, by the spirit of peace! +The whole world one family, and one Father above--but He not my father! +I alone the outcast, I alone rejected from the ranks of the blessed--the +sweet name of child is not for me--never for me the soul-thrilling +glance of her I love--never, never the bosom friend's embrace--(starting +back wildly)--surrounded by murderers--hemmed in by hissing vipers-- +riveted to vice with iron fetters--whirling headlong on the frail reed +of sin to the gulf of perdition--amid the blooming flowers of a glad +world, a howling Abaddon! + +SCHWARZ (to the others). How strange! I never saw him thus before. + +CHARLES (with melancholy). Oh, that I might return again to my mother's +womb. That I might be born a beggar! I should desire no more,--no +more, oh heaven!--but that I might be like one of those poor laborers! +Oh, I would toil till the blood streamed down my temples--to buy myself +the luxury of one guiltless slumber--the blessedness of a single tear. + +GRIMM (to the others). A little patience--the paroxysm is nearly over. + +CHARLES. There was a time when my tears flowed so freely. Oh, those +days of peace! Dear home of my fathers--ye verdant halcyon vales! +O all ye Elysian scenes of my childhood!--will you never return?--will +your delicious breezes never cool my burning bosom? Mourn with me, +Nature, mourn! They will never return! never will their delicious +breezes cool my burning bosom! They are gone! gone! irrevocably gone! + + Enter SCHWEITZER with water in his hat. + +SCHWEITZER (offering him water in his hat). Drink, captain; here is +plenty of water, and cold as ice. + +SCHWARZ. You are bleeding! What have you been doing? + +SCHWEITZER. A bit of a freak, you fool, which had well-nigh cost me two +legs and a neck. As I was frolicking along the steep sandbanks of the +river, plump, in a moment, the whole concern slid from under me, and I +after it, some ten fathoms deep;--there I lay, and, as I was recovering +my five senses, lo and behold, the most sparkling water in the gravel! +Not so much amiss this time, said I to myself, for the caper I have cut. +The captain will be sure to relish a drink. + +CHARLES (returns him the hat and wipes his face). But you are covered +with mud, Schweitzer, and we can't see the scar which the Bohemian +horseman marked on your forehead--your water was good, Schweitzer--and +those scars become you well. + +SCHWEITZER. Bah! There's room for a score or two more yet. + +CHARLES. Yes, boys--it was a hot day's work--and only one man lost. +Poor Roller! he died a noble death. A marble monument would be erected +to his memory had he died in any other cause than mine. Let this +suffice. (He wipes the tears from his eyes.) How many, did you say, of +the enemy were left on the field? + +SCHWEITZER. A hundred and sixty huzzars, ninety-three dragoons, some +forty chasseurs--in all about three hundred. + +CHARLES. Three hundred for one! Every one of you has a claim upon this +head. (He bares his head.) By this uplifted dagger! As my Soul liveth, +I will never forsake you! + +SCHWEITZER. Swear not! You do not know but you may yet be happy, and +repent your oath. + +CHARLES. By the ashes of my Roller! I will never forsake you. + + Enter KOSINSKY. + +KOSINSKY (aside). Hereabouts, they say, I shall find him. Ha! What +faces are these? Should they be--if these--they must be the men! Yes, +'tis they,'tis they! I will accost them. + +SCHWARZ. Take heed! Who goes there? + +KOSINSKY. Pardon, sirs. I know not whether I am going right or wrong. + +CHARLES. Suppose right, whom do you take us to be? + +KOSINSKY. Men! + +SCHWEITZER. I wonder, captain, whether we have given any proof of that? + +KOSINSKY. I am in search of men who can look death in the face, and let +danger play around then like a tamed snake; who prize liberty above life +or honor; whose very names, hailed by the poor and the oppressed, appal +the boldest, and make tyrants tremble. + +SCHWEITZER (to the Captain). I like that fellow. Hark ye, friend! You +have found your men. + +KOSINSKY. So I should think, and I hope soon to find them brothers. +You can direct me to the man I am looking for. 'Tis your captain, the +great Count von Moor. + +SCHWEITZER (taking him warmly by the hand). There's a good lad. You +and I must be chums. + +CHARLES (coming nearer). Do you know the captain? + +KOSINSKY. Thou art he!--in those features--that air--who can look at +thee, and doubt it? (Looks earnestly at him for some time). I have +always wished to see the man with the annihilating look, as he sat on +the ruins of Carthage.* That wish is realized. + + *[Alluding to Caius Marius. See Plutarch's Lives.] + +SCHWEITZER. A mettlesome fellow!-- + +CHARLES. And what brings you to me? + +KOSINSKY. Oh, captain! my more than cruel fate. I have suffered +shipwrecked on the stormy ocean of the world; I have seen all my fondest +hopes perish; and nought remains to me but a remembrance of the bitter +past, which would drive me to madness, were I not to drown it by +directing my energies to new objects. + +CHARLES. Another arraignment of the ways of Providence! Proceed. + +KOSINSKY. I became a soldier. Misfortune still followed me in the +army. I made a venture to the Indies, and my ship was shivered on the +rocks--nothing but frustrated hopes! At last, I heard tell far and wide +of your valiant deeds, incendiarisms, as they called them, and I came +straightway hither, a distance of thirty leagues, firmly resolved to +serve under you, if you will deign to accept my services. I entreat +thee, noble captain, refuse me not! + +SCHWEITZER (with a leap into the air). Hurrah! Hurrah! Our Roller +replaced ten hundred-fold! An out-and-out brother cut-throat for our +troop. + +CHARLES. What is your name? + +KOSINSKY. Kosinsky. + +CHARLES. What? Kosinsky! And do you know that you are but a +thoughtless boy, and are embarking on the most weighty passage of your +life as heedlessly as a giddy girl? You will find no playing at bowls +or ninepins here, as you probably imagine. + +KOSINSKY. I understand you, sir. I am,'tis true, but four-and-twenty +years old, but I have seen swords glittering, and have heard balls +whistling around me. + +CHARLES. Indeed, young gentleman? And was it for this that you took +fencing lessons, to run poor travellers through the body for the sake of +a dollar, or stab women in the back? Go! go! You have played truant to +your nurse because she shook the rod at you. + +SCHWEITZER. Why, what the devil, captain! what are you about? Do you +mean to turn away such a Hercules? Does he not look as if he could +baste Marechal Saxe across the Ganges with a ladle? + +CHARLES. Because your silly schemes miscarry, you come here to turn +rogue and assassin! Murder, boy, do you know the meaning of that word? +You may have slumbered in peace after cropping a few poppy-heads, but to +have a murder on your soul-- + +KOSINSKY. All the murders you bid me commit be upon my head! + +CHARLES. What! Are you so nimble-witted? Do you take measure of a man +to catch him by flattery? How do you know that I am not haunted by +terrific dreams, or that I shall not tremble on my death-bed?--How much +have you already done of which you have considered the responsibility? + +KOSINSKY. Very little, I must confess; excepting this long journey to +you, noble count-- + +CHARLES. Has your tutor let the story of Robin Hood--get into your +hands? Such careless rascals ought to be sent to the galleys. And has +it heated your childish fancy, and infected you with the mania of +becoming a hero? Are you thirsting for honor and fame? Would you buy +immortality by deeds of incendiarism? Mark me, ambitious youth! No +laurel blooms for the incendiary. No triumph awaits the victories of +the bandit--nothing but curses, danger, death, disgrace. Do you see the +gibbet yonder on the hill? + +SPIEGEL (going up and down indignantly). Oh, how stupid! How +abominably, unpardonably stupid! That's not the way. I went to work +in a very different manner. + +KOSINSKY. What should he fear, who fears not death? + +CHARLES. Bravo! Capital! You have made good use of your time at +school; you have got your Seneca cleverly by heart. But, my good +friend, you will not be able with these fine phrases to cajole nature +in the hour of suffering; they will never blunt the biting tooth of +remorse. Ponder on it well, my son! (Takes him by the hand.) I advise +you as a father. First learn the depth of the abyss before you plunge +headlong into it. If in this world you can catch a single glimpse of +happiness--moments may come when you-awake,--and then--it may be too +late. Here you step out as it were beyond the pale of humanity--you +must either be more than human or a demon. Once more, my son! if but +a single spark of hope glimmer for you elsewhere, fly this fearful +compact, where nought but despair enters, unless a higher wisdom has so +ordained it. You may deceive yourself--believe me, it is possible to +mistake that for strength of mind which in reality is nothing more than +despair. Take my counsel! mine! and depart quickly. + +KOSINSKY. No! I will not stir. If my entreaties fail to move you, hear +but the story of my misfortunes. And then you will force the dagger +into my hand as eagerly as you now seek to withhold it. Seat yourselves +awhile on the grass and listen. + +CHARLES. I will hear your story. + +KOSINSKY. Know, then, that I am a Bohemian nobleman. By the early +death of my father I became master of large possessions. The scene of +my domain was a paradise; for it contained an angel--a maid adorned with +all the charms of blooming youth, and chaste as the light of heaven. +But to whom do I talk of this? It falls unheeded on your cars--ye never +loved, ye were never beloved-- + +SCHWEITZER. Gently, gently! The captain grows red as fire. + +CHARLES. No more! I'll hear you some other time--to-morrow,--or by- +and-by, or--after I have seen blood. + +KOSINSKY. Blood, blood! Only hear on! Blood will fill your whole +soul. She was of citizen birth, a German--but her look dissolved all +the prejudices of aristocracy. With blushing modesty she received the +bridal ring from my hand, and on the morrow I was to have led my AMELIA +to the altar. (CHARLES rises suddenly.) In the midst of my intoxicating +dream of happiness, and while our nuptials were preparing, an express +summoned me to court. I obeyed the summons. Letters were shown me +which I was said to have written, full of treasonable matter. I grew +scarlet with indignation at such malice; they deprived me of my sword, +thrust me into prison, and all my senses forsook me. + +SCHWEITZER. And in the meantime--go on! I already scent the game. + +KOSINSKY. There I lay a whole month, and knew not what was taking +place. I was full of anxiety for my Amelia, who I was sure would suffer +the pangs of death every moment in apprehension of my fate. At last the +prime minister makes his appearance,--congratulates me in honey-sweet +words on the establishment of my innocence,--reads to me a warrant of +discharge,--and returns me my sword. I flew in triumph to my castle, to +the arms of my Amelia, but she had disappeared! She had been carried +off, it was said, at midnight, no one knew whither, and no eye had +beheld her since. A suspicion instantly flashed across my mind. I +rushed to the capital--I made inquiries at court--all eyes were upon +me,--no one would give me information. At last I discovered her through +a grated window of the palace--she threw me a small billet. + +SCHWEITZER. Did I not say so? + +KOSINSKY. Death and destruction! The contents were these! They had +given her the choice between seeing me put to death, and becoming the +mistress of the prince. In the struggle between honor and love she +chose the latter, and (with a bitter smile) I was saved. + +SCHWEITZER. And what did you do then? + +KOSINSKY. Then I stood like one transfixed with a thunderbolt! Blood +was my first thought, blood my last! Foaming at the mouth, I ran to my +quarters, armed myself with a two-edged sword, and, with all haste, +rushed to the minister's house, for he--he alone--had been the fiendish +pander. They must have observed me in the street, for, as I went up, I +found all the doors fastened. I searched, I enquired. He was gone, +they said, to the prince. I went straight thither, but nobody there +would know anything about him. I return, force the doors, find the base +wretch, and was on the point when five or six servants suddenly rushed +on me from behind, and wrenched the weapon from my hands. + +SCHWEITZER (stamping the ground). And so the fellow got off clear, and +you lost your labor? + +KOSINSKY. I was arrested, accused, criminally prosecuted, degraded, +and--mark this--transported beyond the frontier, as a special favor. My +estates were confiscated to the minister, and Amelia remained in the +clutches of the tiger, where she weeps and mourns away her life, while +my vengeance must keep a fast, and crouch submissively to the yoke of +despotism. + +SCHWEITZER (rising and whetting his sword). That is grist to our mill, +captain! There is something here for the incendiaries! + +CHARLES (who has been walking up and down in violent agitation, with a +sudden start to the ROBBERS). I must see her. Up! collect your +baggage--you'll stay with us, Kosinsky! Quick, pack up! + +THE ROBBERS. Where to? What? + +CHARLES. Where to? Who asks that question? (Fiercely to SCHWEITZER) +Traitor, wouldst thou keep me back? But by the hope for heaven! + +SCHWEITZER. I, a traitor? Lead on to hell and I will follow you! + +CHARLES (falling on his neck). Dear brother! thou shalt follow me. She +weeps, she mourns away her life. Up! quickly! all of you! to +Franconia! In a week we must be there. + [Exeunt.] + + + + + ACT IV. + + SCENE I.--Rural scenery in the neighborhood of + CHARLES VON MOOR'S castle. + + CHARLES VON MOOR, KOSINSKY, at a distance. + +CHARLES. Go forward, and announce me. You remember what you have to +say? + +KOSINSKY. You are Count Brand, you come from Mecklenburg. I am your +groom. Do not fear, I shall take care to play my part. Farewell! + [Exit.] + +CHARLES. Hail to thee, Earth of my Fatherland (kisses the earth.) +Heaven of my Fatherland! Sun of my Fatherland! Ye meadows and hills, +ye streams and woods! Hail, hail to ye all! How deliciously the +breezes are wafted from my native hills? What streams of balmy perfume +greet the poor fugitive! Elysium! Realms of poetry! Stay, Moor, thy +foot has strayed into a holy temple. (Comes nearer.) + +See there! the old swallow-nests in the castle yard!---and the little +garden-gate!--and this corner of the fence where I so often watched in +ambuscade to teaze old Towzer!--and down there in the green valley, +where, as the great Alexander, I led my Macedonians to the battle of +Arbela; and the grassy hillock yonder, from which I hurled the Persian +satrap--and then waved on high my victorious banner! (He smiles.) The +golden age of boyhood lives again in the soul of the outcast. I was +then so happy, so wholly, so cloudlessly happy--and now--behold all my +prospects a wreck! Here should I have presided, a great, a noble, an +honored man--here have--lived over again the years of boyhood in the +blooming--children of my Amelia--here!--here have been the idol of my +people--but the foul fiend opposed it (Starting.) Why am I here? To +feel like the captive when the clanking of his chains awakes him from +his dream of liberty. No, let me return to my wretchedness! The +captive had forgotten the light of day, but the dream of liberty flashes +past his eyes like a blaze of lightning in the night, which leaves it +darker than before. Farewell, ye native vales! once ye saw Charles as a +boy, and then Charles was happy. Now ye have seen the man his happiness +turned to despair! (He moves rapidly towards the most distant point of +the landscape, where he suddenly stops and casts a melancholy look +across to the castle.) Not to behold her! not even one look?--and only +a wall between me and Amelia! No! see her I must!--and him too!--though +it crush me! (He turns back.) Father! father! thy son approaches. Away +with thee, black, reeking gore! Away with that grim, ghastly look of +death! Oh, give me but this one hour free! Amelia! Father! thy +Charles approaches! (He goes quickly towards the castle.) Torment me +when the morning dawns--give me no rest with the coming night--beset me +in frightful dreams! But, oh! poison not this my only hour of bliss! +(He is standing at the gate.) What is it I feel? What means this, Moor? +Be a man! These death-like shudders--foreboding terrors. + [Enters.] + + + + SCENE II.*--Gallery in the Castle. + + *[In some editions this is the third scene, + and there is no second.] + + Enter CHARLES VON MOOR, AMELIA. + +AMELIA. And are you sure that you should know his portrait among these +pictures? + +CHARLES. Oh, most certainly! his image has always been fresh in my +memory. (Passing along thee pictures.) This is not it. + +AMELIA. You are right! He was the first count, and received his patent +of nobility from Frederic Barbarossa, to whom he rendered some service +against the corsairs. + +CHARLES (still reviewing the pictures). Neither is it this--nor this-- +nor that--it is not among these at all. + +AMELIA. Nay! look more attentively! I thought you knew him. + +CHARLES. As well as my own father! This picture wants the sweet +expression around the mouth, which distinguished him from among a +thousand. It is not he. + +AMELIA. You surprise me. What! not seen him for eighteen years, and +still-- + +CHARLES (quickly, with a hectic blush). Yes, this is he! (He stands as +if struck by lightning.) + +AMELIA. An excellent man! + +CHARLES (absorbed in the contemplation of the picture). Father! +father! forgive me! Yes, an excellent man! (He wipes his eyes.) A +godlike man! + +AMELIA. You seem to take a deep interest in him. + +CHARLES. Oh, an excellent man! And he is gone, you say! + +AMELIA. Gone! as our best joys perish. (Gently taking him by the +hand.) Dear Sir, no happiness ripens in this world. + +CHARLES. Most true, most true! And have you already proved this truth +by sad experience? You, who can scarcely yet have seen your twenty- +third year? + +AMELIA. Yes, alas, I have proved it. Whatever lives, lives to die in +sorrow. We engage our hearts, and grasp after the things of this world, +only to undergo the pang of losing them. + +CHARLES. What can you have lost, and yet so young? + +AMELIA. Nothing--everything--nothing. Shall we go on, count?* + + *[In the acting edition is added-- + "MOOR. And would you learn forgetfulness in that holy garb there? + (Pointing to a nun's habit.) + "AMELIA. To-morrow I hope to do so. Shall we continue our walk, + sir?"] + +CHARLES. In such haste? Whose portrait is that on the right? There is +an unhappy look about that countenance, methinks. + +AMELIA. That portrait on the left is the son of the count, the present +count. Come, let us pass on! + +CHARLES. But this portrait on the right? + +AMELIA. Will you not continue your walk, Sir? + +CHARLES. But this portrait on the right hand? You are in tears, +Amelia? [Exit AMELIA, in precipitation.] + +CHARLES. She loves me, she loves me! Her whole being began to rebel, +and the traitor tears rolled down her cheeks. She loves me! Wretch, +hast thou deserved this at her hands? Stand I not here like a condemned +criminal before the fatal block? Is this the couch on which we so often +sat--where I have hung in rapture on her neck? Are these my ancestral +halls? (Overcome by the sight of his father's portrait.) Thou--thou-- +Flames of fire darting from thine eyes--His curse--His curse--He disowns +me--Where am I? My sight grows dim--Horrors of the living God--'Twas I, +'twas I that killed my father! + [He rushes off] + + Enter FRANCIS VON MOOR, in deep thought. + +FRANCIS. Away with that image! Away with it! Craven heart! Why dost +thou tremble, and before whom? Have I not felt, during the few hours +that the count has been within these walls as if a spy from hell were +gliding at my heels. Methinks I should know him! There is something so +lofty, so familiar, in his wild, sunburnt features, which makes me +tremble. Amelia, too, is not indifferent towards him! Does she not +dart eager, languishing looks at the fellow looks of which she is so +chary to all the world beside? Did I not see her drop those stealthy +tears into the wine, which, behind my back, he quaffed so eagerly that +he seemed to swallow the very glass? Yes, I saw it--I saw it in the +mirror with my own eyes. Take care, Francis! Look about you! Some +destruction-brooding monster is lurking beneath all this! (He stops, +with a searching look, before the portrait of CHARLES.) + +His long, crane-like neck--his black, fire-sparkling eyes--hem! hem!-- +his dark, overhanging, bushy eyebrows. (Suddenly starting back.) +Malicious hell! dost thou send me this suspicion? It is Charles! Yes, +all his features are reviving before me. It is he! despite his mask! +it is he! Death and damnation! (Goes up and down with agitated steps.) +Is it for this that I have sacrificed my nights--that I have mowed down +mountains and filled up chasms? For this that I have turned rebel +against all the instincts of humanity? To have this vagabond outcast +blunder in at last, and destroy all my cunningly devised fabric. But +gently! gently! What remains to be done is but child's play. Have I +not already waded up to my very ears in mortal sin? Seeing how far the +shore lies behind me, it would be madness to attempt to swim back. To +return is now out of the question. Grace itself would be beggared, and +infinite mercy become bankrupt, were they to be responsible for all my +liabilities. Then onward like a man. (He rings the bell.) Let him be +gathered to the spirit of his father, and now come on! For the dead I +care not! Daniel! Ho! Daniel! I'd wager a trifle they have already +inveigled him too into the plot against me! He looks so full of +mystery! + + Enter DANIEL. + +DANIEL. What is your pleasure, my master? + +FRANCIS. Nothing. Go, fill this goblet with wine, and quickly! (Exit +DANIEL.) Wait a little, old man! I shall find you out! I will fix my +eye upon you so keenly that your stricken conscience shall betray itself +through your mask! He shall die! He is but a sorry bungler who leaves +his work half finished, and then looks on idly, trusting to chance for +what may come of it. + + Enter DANIEL, with the wine. + +Bring it here! Look me steadfastly in the face! How your knees knock +together! How you tremble! Confess, old man! what have you been +doing? + +DANIEL. Nothing, my honored master, by heaven and my poor soul! + +FRANCIS. Drink this wine! What? you hesitate? Out with it quickly! +What have you put into the wine? + +DANIEL. Heaven help me! What! I in the wine? + +FRANCIS. You have poisoned it! Are you not as white as snow? Confess, +confess! Who gave it you? The count? Is it not so? The count gave it +you? + +DANIEL. The count? Jesu Maria! The count has not given me anything. + +FRANCIS (grasping him tight). I will throttle you till you are black in +the face, you hoary-headed liar! Nothing? Why, then, are you so often +closeted together? He, and you, and Amelia? And what are you always +whispering about? Out with it! What secrets, eh? What secrets has he +confided to you? + +DANIEL. I call the Almighty to witness that he has not confided any +secrets to me. + +FRANCIS. Do you mean to deny it? What schemes have you been hatching +to get rid of me? Am I to be smothered in my sleep? or is my throat to +be cut in shaving? or am I to be poisoned in wine or chocolate? Eh? +Out with it, out with it! Or am I to have my quietus administered in my +soup? Out with it! I know it all! + +DANIEL. May heaven so help me in the hour of need as I now tell you the +truth, and nothing but the pure, unvarnished truth! + +FRANCIS. Well, this time I will forgive you. But the money! he most +certainly put money into your purse? And he pressed your hand more +warmly than is customary? something in the manner of an old +acquaintance? + +DANIEL. Never, indeed, Sir. + +FRANCIS. He told you, for instance, that he had known you before? that +you ought to know him? that the scales would some day fall from your +eyes? that--what? Do you mean to say that he never spoke thus to you? + +DANIEL. Not a word of the kind. + +FRANCIS. That certain circumstances restrained him--that one must +sometimes wear a mask in order to get at one's enemies--that he would be +revenged, most terribly revenged? + +DANIEL. Not a syllable of all this. + +FRANCIS. What? Nothing at all? Recollect yourself. That he knew the +old count well--most intimately--that he loved him--loved him +exceedingly--loved him like a son! + +DANIEL. Something of that sort I remember to have heard him say. + +FRANCIS (turning pale). Did he say so? did he really? How? let me +hear! He said he was my brother? + +DANIEL (astonished). What, my master? He did not say that. But as +Lady Amelia was conducting him through the gallery--I was just dusting +the picture frames--he suddenly stood still before the portrait of my +late master, and seemed thunderstruck. Lady Amelia pointed it out, and +said, "An excellent man!" "Yes, a most excellent man!" he replied, +wiping a tear from his eye. + +FRANCIS. Hark, Daniel! You know I have ever been a kind master to you; +I have given you food and raiment, and have spared you labor in +consideration of your advanced age. + +DANIEL. For which may heaven reward you! and I, on my part, have +always served you faithfully. + +FRANCIS. That is just what I was going to say. You have never in all +your life contradicted me; for you know much too well that you owe me +obedience in all things, whatever I may require of you. + +DANIEL. In all things with all my heart, so it be not against God and +my conscience. + +FRANCIS. Stuff! nonsense! Are you not ashamed of yourself? An old +man, and believe that Christmas tale! Go, Daniel! that was a stupid +remark. You know that I am your master. It is on me that God and +conscience will be avenged, if, indeed, there be a God and a conscience. + +DANIEL (clasping his hands together). Merciful Heaven! + +FRANCIS. By your obedience! Do you understand that word? By your +obedience, I command you. With to-morrow's dawn the count must no +longer be found among the living. + +DANIEL. Merciful Heaven! and wherefore? + +FRANCIS. By your blind obedience! I shall rely upon you implicitly. + +DANIEL. On me? May the Blessed Virgin have mercy on me! On me? What +evil, then, have I, an old man, done! + +FRANCIS. There is no time now for reflection; your fate is in my hands. +Would you rather pine away the remainder of your days in the deepest of +my dungeons, where hunger shall compel you to gnaw your own bones, and +burning thirst make you suck your own blood? Or would you rather eat +your bread in peace, and have rest in your old age? + +DANIEL. What, my lord! Peace and rest in my old age? And I a +murderer? + +FRANCIS. Answer my question! + +DANIEL. My gray hairs! my gray hairs! + +FRANCIS. Yes or no! + +DANIEL. No! God have mercy upon me! + +FRANCIS (in the act of going). Very well! you shall have need of it. +(DANIEL detains him and falls on his knees before him.) + +DANIEL. Mercy, master! mercy! + +FRANCIS. Yes or no! + +DANIEL. Most gracious master! I am this day seventy-one years of age! +and have honored my father and my mother, and, to the best of my +knowledge, have never in the whole course of my life defrauded any one +to the value of a farthing,--and I have adhered to my creed truly and +honestly, and have served in your house four-and-forty years, and am now +calmly awaiting a quiet, happy end. Oh, master! master! (violently +clasping his knees) and would you deprive me of my only solace in death, +that the gnawing worm of an evil conscience may cheat me of my last +prayer? that I may go to my long home an abomination in the sight of God +and man? No, no! my dearest, best, most excellent, most gracious +master! you do not ask that of an old man turned threescore and ten! + +FRANCIS. Yes or no! What is the use of all this palaver? + +DANIEL. I will serve you from this day forward more diligently than +ever; I will wear out my old bones in your service like a common day- +laborer; I will rise earlier and lie down later. Oh, and I will +remember you in my prayers night and morning; and God will not reject +the prayer of an old man. + +FRANCIS. Obedience is better than sacrifice. Did you ever hear of the +hangman standing upon ceremony when he was told to execute a sentence? + +DANIEL. That is very true? but to murder an innocent man--one-- + +FRANCIS. Am I responsible to you? Is the axe to question the hangman +why he strikes this way and not that? But see how forbearing I am. I +offer you a reward for performing what you owe me in virtue of your +allegiance. + +DANIEL. But, when I swore allegiance to you, I at least hoped that I +should be allowed to remain a Christian. + +FRANCIS. No contradiction! Look you! I give you the whole day to +think about it! Ponder well on it. Happiness or misery. Do you hear-- +do you understand? The extreme of happiness or the extreme of misery! +I can do wonders in the way of torture. + +DANIEL (after some reflection). I'll do it; I will do it to-morrow. + [Exit.] + +FRANCIS. The temptation is strong, and I should think he was not born +to die a martyr to his faith. Have with you, sir count! According to +all ordinary calculations, you will sup to-morrow with old Beelzebub. +In these matters all depends upon one's view of a thing; and he is a +fool who takes any view that is contrary to his own interest. A father +quaffs perhaps a bottle of wine more than ordinary--he is in a certain +mood--the result is a human being, the last thing that was thought of in +the affair. Well, I, too, am in a certain mood,--and the result is that +a human being perishes; and surely there is more of reason and purpose +in this than there was in his production. If the birth of a man is the +result of an animal paroxysm, who should take it into his head to attach +any importance to the negation of his birth? A curse upon the folly of +our nurses and teachers, who fill our imaginations with frightful tales, +and impress fearful images of punishment upon the plastic brain of +childhood, so that involuntary shudders shake the limbs of the man with +icy fear, arrest his boldest resolutions, and chain his awakening reason +in the fetters of superstitious darkness. Murder! What a hell full of +furies hovers around that word. Yet 'tis no more than if nature forgets +to bring forth one man more or the doctor makes a mistake--and thus the +whole phantasmagoria vanishes. It was something, and it is nothing. +Does not this amount to exactly the same thing as though it had been +nothing, and came to nothing; and about nothing it is hardly worth while +to waste a word. Man is made of filth, and for a time wades in filth, +and produces filth, and sinks back into filth, till at last he fouls the +boots of his own posterity.* + + *["To what base uses we may return, Horatio! why, may not + imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till we find it + stopping a bunghole?"--HAMLET, Act v, Sc. 1.] + +That is the burden of the song--the filthy cycle of human fate; and with +that--a pleasant journey to you, sir brother! Conscience, that +splenetic, gouty moralist, may drive shrivelled old drones out of +brothels, and torture usurers on their deathbeds--with me it shall never +more have audience. + [Exit.] + + + + + SCENE III.--Another Room in the Castle. + + CHARLES VON MOOR enters from one side, DANIEL from the other. + +CHARLES (hastily). Where is Lady Amelia? + +DANIEL. Honored sir! permit an old man to ask you a favor. + +CHARLES. It is granted. What is it you ask? + +DANIEL. Not much, and yet all--but little, and yet a great deal. +Suffer me to kiss your hand! + +CHARLES. That I cannot permit, good old man (embraces him), from one +whom I should like to call my father. + +DANIEL. Your hand, your hand! I beseech you. + +CHARLES. That must not be. + +DANIEL. It must! (He takes hold of it, surveys it quickly, and falls +down before him.) Dear, dearest Charles! + +CHARLES (startled; he composes himself, and says in a distant tone). +What mean you, my friend? I don't understand you. + +DANIEL. Yes, you may deny it, you may dissemble as much as you please? +'Tis very well! very well. For all that you are my dearest, my +excellent young master. Good Heaven! that I, poor old man, should live +to have the joy--what a stupid blockhead was I that I did not at a +glance--oh, gracious powers! And you are really come back, and the dear +old master is underground, and here you are again! What a purblind dolt +I was, to be sure! (striking his forehead) that I did not on the +instant--Oh, dear me!---who could have dreamt it--What I have so often +prayed for with tears--Oh, mercy me! There he stands again, as large as +life, in the old room! + +CHARLES. What's all this oration about? Are you in a fit of delirium, +and have escaped from your keepers; or are you rehearsing a stage- +player's part with me? + +DANIEL. Oh, fie! fie! It is not pretty of you to make game of an old +servant. That scar! Eh! do you remember it? Good Heaven! what a +fright you put me into--I always loved you so dearly; and what misery +you might have brought upon me. You were sitting in my lap--do you +remember? there in the round chamber. Has all that quite vanished from +your memory--and the cuckoo, too, that you were so fond of listening to? +Only think! the cuckoo is broken, broken all to shivers--old Susan +smashed it in sweeping the room--yes, indeed, and there you sat in my +lap, and cried, "Cockhorse!" and I ran off to fetch your wooden horse-- +mercy on me! what business had I, thoughtless old fool, to leave you +alone--and how I felt as if I were in a boiling caldron when I heard you +screaming in the passage; and, when I rushed in, there was your red +blood gushing forth, and you lying on the ground. Oh, by the Blessed +Virgin! did I not feel as if a bucket of icy cold water was emptied all +over me?--but so it happens, unless one keeps all one's eyes upon +children. Good Heaven! if it had gone into your eye! Unfortunately it +happened to be the right hand. "As long as I live," said I, "never +again shall any child in my charge get hold of a knife or scissors, or +any other edge tool." 'Twas lucky for me that both my master and +mistress were gone on a journey. "Yes, yes! this shall be a warning to +me for the rest of my life," said I--Gemini, Gemini! I might have lost +my place, I might--God forgive you, you naughty boy--but, thank Heaven! +it healed fairly, all but that ugly scar. + +CHARLES. I do not comprehend one word of all that you are talking +about. + +DANIEL. Eh? eh? that was the time! was it not? How many a ginger-cake, +and biscuit, and macaroon, have I slipped into your bands--I was always +so fond of you. And do you recollect what you said to me down in the +stable, when I put you upon old master's hunter, and let you scamper +round the great meadow? "Daniel!" said you, "only wait till I am grown +a big man, and you shall be my steward, and ride in the coach with me." +"Yes," said I, laughing, "if heaven grants me life and health, and you +are not ashamed of the old man," I said, "I shall ask you to let me have +the little house down in the village, that has stood empty so long; and +then I will lay in a few butts of good wine, and turn publican in my old +age." Yes, you may laugh, you may laugh! Eh, young gentleman, have you +quite forgotten all that? You do not want to remember the old man, so +you carry yourself strange and loftily;--but, you are my jewel of a +young master, for all that. You have, it is true, been a little bit +wild--don't be angry!--as young blood is apt to be! All may be well yet +in the end. + +CHARLES (falls on his neck). Yes! Daniel! I will no longer hide it +from you! I am your Charles, your lost Charles! And now tell me, how +does my Amelia? + +DANIEL (begins to cry). That I, old sinner, should live to have this +happiness--and my late blessed master wept so long in vain! Begone, +begone, hoary old head! Ye weary bones, descend into the grave with +joy! My lord and master lives! my own eyes have beheld him! + +CHARLES. And he will keep his promise to you. Take that, honest +graybeard, for the old hunter (forces a heavy purse upon him). I have +not forgotten the old man. + +DANIEL. How? What are you doing? Too much! You have made a mistake. + +CHARLES. No mistake, Daniel! (DANIEL is about to throw himself on his +knees before him.) Rise! Tell me, how does my Amelia? + +DANIEL. Heaven reward you! Heaven reward you! O gracious me! Your +Amelia will never survive it, she will die for joy? + +CHARLES (eagerly). She has not forgotten me then? + +DANIEL. Forgotten you? How can you talk thus? Forgotten you, indeed! +You should have been there, you should have seen how she took on, when +the news came of your death, which his honor caused to be spread +abroad-- + +CHARLES. What do you say? my brother-- + +DANIEL. Yes, your brother; his honor, your brother--another day I will +tell you more about it, when we have time--and how cleverly she sent him +about his business when he came a wooing every blessed day, and offered +to make her his countess. Oh, I must go; I must go and tell her; carry +her the news (is about to run of). + +CHARLES. Stay! stay! she must not know--nobody must know, not even my +brother! + +DANIEL. Your brother? No, on no account; he must not know it! +Certainly not! If he know not already more than he ought to know. Oh, +I can tell you, there are wicked men, wicked brothers, wicked masters; +but I would not for all my master's gold be a wicked servant. His honor +thought you were dead. + +CHARLES. Humph! What are you muttering about? + +DANIEL (in a half-suppressed voice). And to be sure when a man rises +from the dead thus uninvited--your brother was the sole heir of our late +master! + +CHARLES. Old man! what is it you are muttering between your teeth, as +if some dreadful secret were hovering on your tongue which you fear to +utter, and yet ought? Out with it! + +DANIEL. But I would rather gnaw my old bones with hunger, and suck my +own blood for thirst, than gain a life of luxury by murder. + [Exit hastily.] + +CHARLES (starting up, after a terrible pause). Betrayed! Betrayed! It +flashes upon my soul like lightning! A, fiendish trick! A murderer and +a robber through fiend-like machinations! Calumniated by him! My +letters falsified, suppressed! his heart full of love! Oh, what a +monstrous fool was I! His fatherly heart full of love! oh, villainy, +villainy! It would have cost me but once kneeling at his feet--a tear +would have done it--oh blind, blind fool that I was! (running up +against the wall). I might have been happy--oh villainy, villainy! + +Knavishly, yes, knavishly cheated out of all happiness in this life! +(He runs up and down in a rage.) A murderer, a robber, all through a +knavish trick! He was not even angry! Not a thought of cursing ever +entered his heart. Oh, miscreant! inconceivable, hypocritical, +abominable miscreant! + + Enter KOSINSKY. + +KOSINSKY. Well, captain, where are you loitering? What is the matter? +You are for staying here some time longer, I perceive? + +CHARLES. Up! Saddle the horses! Before sunset we must be over the +frontier! + +KOSINSKY. You are joking. + +CHARLES (in a commanding tone). Quick! quick! delay not! leave every +thing behind! and let no eye see you! + (Exit KOSINSKY.) + +I fly from these walls. The least delay might drive me raving road; and +he my father's son! Brother! brother! thou hast made me the most +miserable wretch on earth; I never injured thee; this was not brotherly. +Reap the fruits of thy crime in quiet, my presence shall no longer +embitter thy enjoyment--but, surely, this was not acting like a brother. +May oblivion shroud thy misdeed forever, and death not bring it back to +light. + + Enter KOSINSKY. + +KOSINSKY. The horses are ready saddled, you can mount as soon as you +please. + +CHARLES. Why in such haste? Why so urgent? Shall I see her no more? + +KOSINSKY. I will take off the bridles again, if you wish it; you bade +me hasten head over heels. + +CHARLES. One more farewell! one more! I must drain this poisoned cup +of happiness to the dregs, and then--Stay, Kosinsky! Ten minutes more-- +behind, in the castle yard--and we gallop off. + + + + + Scene IV.--In the Garden. + +AMELIA. "You are in tears, Amelia!" These were his very words--and +spoken with such expressionsuch a voice!--oh, it summoned up a thousand +dear remembrances!--scenes of past delight, as in my youthful days of +happiness, my golden spring-tide of love. The nightingale sung with the +same sweetness, the flowers breathed the same delicious fragrance, as +when I used to hang enraptured on his neck.* + + *[Here, in the acting edition, is added, 'Assuredly, if the spirits + of the departed wander among the living, then must this stranger be + Charles's angel!'] + +Ha! false, perfidious heart! And dost thou seek thus artfully to veil +thy perjury? No, no! begone forever from my soul, thou sinful image! +I have not broken my oath, thou only one! Avaunt, from my soul, ye +treacherous impious wishes! In the heart where Charles reigns no son +of earth may dwell. But why, my soul, dost thou thus constantly, thus +obstinately turn towards this stranger? Does he not cling to my heart +in the very image of my only one! Is he not his inseparable companion +in my thoughts? "You are in tears, Amelia?" Ha! let me fly from him!-- +--fly!--never more shall my eyes behold this stranger! + [CHARLES opens the garden gate.] + +AMELIA (starting). Hark! hark! did I not hear the gate creak? (She +perceives CHARLES and starts up.) He?--whither?--what? I am rooted to +the spot,--I can not fly! Forsake me not, good Heaven! No! thou shalt +not tear me from my Charles! My soul has no room for two deities, I am +but a mortal maid! (She draws the picture of CHARLES from her bosom.) +Thou, my Charles! be thou my guardian angel against this stranger, this +invader of our loves! At thee will I look, at thee, nor turn away my +eyes--nor cast one sinful look towards him! (She sits silent, her eyes +fixed upon the picture.) + +CHARLES. You here, Lady Amelia?--and so sad? and a tear upon that +picture? (AMELIA gives him no answer.) And who is the happy man for +whom these silver drops fall from an angel's eyes? May I be permitted +to look at--(He endeavors to look at the picture.) + +AMELIA. No--yes--no! + +CHARLES (starting back). Ha--and does he deserve to be so idolized? +Does he deserve it? + +AMELIA. Had you but known him! + +CHARLES. I should have envied him. + +AMELIA. Adored, you mean. + +CHARLES. Ha! + +AMELIA. Oh, you would so have loved him?---there was so much, so much +in his face--in his eyes--in the tone of his voice,--which was so like +yours--that I love so dearly! (CHARLES casts his eyes down to the +ground.) Here, where you are standing, he has stood a thousand times-- +and by his side, one who, by his side, forgot heaven and earth. Here +his eyes feasted on nature's most glorious panorama,--which, as if +conscious of his approving glance, seemed to increase in beauty under +the approbation of her masterpiece. Here he held the audience of the +air captive with his heavenly music. Here, from this bush, he plucked +roses, and plucked those roses for me. Here, here, he lay on my neck; +here he imprinted burning kisses on my lips, and the flowers hung their +heads with pleasure beneath the foot-tread of the lovers.* + + *[In the acting edition the scene changes materially at this point, + and the most sentimental part of the whole drama is transformed + into the most voluptuous. The stage direction here is,--(They give + way to their transports without control, and mingle their kisses. + MOOR hangs in ecstacy on her lips, while she sinks half delirious + on the couch.) O Charles! now avenge thyself; my vow is broken. + + MOOR (tearing himself away from her, as if in frenzy). Can this be + hell that still pursues me! (Gazing on her.) I felt so happy! + + AMELIA (perceiving the ring upon her finger, starts up from the + couch). What! Art thou still there--on that guilty hand? Witness + of my perjury. Away with thee! (She pulls the ring from her + finger and gives it to CHARLES.) Take it--take it, beloved + seducer! and with it what I hold most sacred--take my all--my + Charles! (She falls back upon the couch.) + + MOOR (changes color). O thou Most High! was this thy almighty + will? It is the very ring I gave her in pledge of our mutual + faith. Hell be the grave of love! She has returned my ring. + + AMELIA (terrified). Heavens! What is the matter? Your eyes roll + wildly, and your lips are pale as death! Ah! woe is me. And are + the pleasures of thy crime so soon forgotten? + + MOOR (suppressing his emotion). 'Tis nothing! Nothing! (Raising + his eyes to heaven.) I am still a man! (He takes of his own ring + and puts it on AMELIA'S finger.) In return take this! sweet fury of + my heart! And with it what I hold most sacred--take my all--my + Amelia! + + AMELIA (starting up). Your Amelia! + + MOOR (mournfully). Oh, she was such a lovely maiden, and faithful + as an angel. When we parted we exchanged rings, and vowed eternal + constancy. She heard that I was dead--believed it--yet remained + constant to the dead. She heard again that I was living--yet + became faithless to the living. I flew into her arms--was happy + as--the blest in Paradise. Think what my heart was doomed to feel, + Amelia! She gave me back my ring--she took her own. + + AMELIA (her eyes fixed on the earth in amazement). 'Tis strange, + most strange! 'Tis horrible! + + MOOR. Ay, strange and horrible! My child, there is much--ay, much + for man to learn ere his poor intellect can fathom the decrees of + Him who smiles at human vows and weeps at human projects. My + Amelia is an unfortunate maiden! + + AMELIA. Unfortunate! Because she rejected you? + + MOOR. Unfortunate. Because she embraced the man she betrayed. + + AMELIA (with melancholy tenderness). Oh, then, she is indeed + unfortunate! From my soul I pity her! She shall be my sister. + But there is another and a better world." + + +CHARLES. He is no more? + +AMELIA. He sails on troubled seas--Amelia's love sails with him. He +wanders through pathless, sandy deserts--Amelia's love clothes the +burning sand with verdure, and the barren shrubs with flowers. Southern +suits scorch his bare head, northern snows pinch his feet, tempestuous +hail beats down on his temples, but Amelia's love lulls him to sleep in +the midst of the storm. Seas, and mountains, and skies, divide the +lovers--but their souls rise above this prison-house of clay, and meet +in the paradise of love. You appear sad, count! + +CHARLES. These words of love rekindle my love. + +AMELIA (pale). What? You love another? Alas! what have I said? + +CHARLES. She believed me dead, and in my supposed death she remained +faithful to me--she heard again that I was alive, and she sacrificed for +me the crown of a saint. She knows that I am wandering in deserts, and +roaming about in misery, yet her love follows me on wings through +deserts and through misery. Her name, too, like yours, is Amelia. + +AMELIA. How I envy your Amelia! + +CHARLES. Oh, she is an unhappy maid. Her love is fixed upon one who is +lost--and it can never--never be rewarded. + +AMELIA. Say not so! It will be rewarded in heaven. Is it not agreed +that there is a better world, where mourners rejoice, and where lovers +meet again? + +CHARLES. Yes, a world where the veil is lifted--where the phantom love +will make terrible discoveries--Eternity is its name. My Amelia is an +unhappy maid. + +AMELIA. Unhappy, and loves you?* + + *[In the acting edition the scene closes with a different + denouement. Amelia here says, "Are all unhappy who live with you, + and bear the name of Amelia. + "CHARLES. Yes, all--when they think they embrace an angel, and + find in their arms--a murderer. Alas, for my Amelia! She is + indeed unfortunate. + "AMELIA (with an expression of deep affliction). Oh, I must weep + for her. + "CHARLES (grasping her hand, and pointing to the ring). Weep for + thyself. + "AMELIA (recognizing the ring). Charles! Charles! O heaven and + earth! + (She sinks fainting; the scene closes.)"] + + +CHARLES. Unhappy, because she loves me! What if I were a murderer? +How, Lady Amelia, if your lover could reckon you up a murder for every +one of your kisses? Woe to my Amelia! She is an unhappy maid. + +AMELIA (gayly rising). Ha! What a happy maid am I! My only one is a +reflection of Deity, and Deity is mercy and compassion! He could not +bear to see a fly suffer. His soul is as far from every thought of +blood as the sun is from the moon. (CHARLES suddenly turns away into a +thicket, and looks wildly out into the landscape. AMELIA sings, playing +the guitar.) + + Oh! Hector, wilt thou go forevermore, + Where fierce Achilles, on the blood-stained shore, + Heaps countless victims o'er Patroclus' grave? + Who then thy hapless orphan boy will rear, + Teach him to praise the gods and hurl the spear, + When thou art swallowed up in Xanthus' wave? + +CHARLES (silently tunes the guitar, and plays). + + Beloved wife!--stern duty calls to arms + Go, fetch my lance! and cease those vain alarms! + + [He flings the guitar away, and rushes off.] + + + + + SCENE V.--A neighboring forest. Night. An old ruined + castle in the centre of the scene. + + The band of ROBBERS encamped on the ground. + + The ROBBERS singing. + + To rob, to kill, to wench, to fight, + Our pastime is, and daily sport; + The gibbet claims us morn and night, + So let's be jolly, time is short. + + A merry life we lead, and free, + A life of endless fun; + Our couch is 'neath the greenwood tree, + Through wind and storm we gain our fee, + The moon we make our sun. + Old Mercury is our patron true, + And a capital chap for helping us through. + + To-day we make the abbot our host, + The farmer rich to-morrow; + And where we shall get our next day's roast, + Gives us nor care nor sorrow. + + And, when with Rhenish and rare Moselle + Our throats we have been oiling, + Our courage burns with a fiercer swell, + And we're hand and glove with the Lord of Hell, + Who down in his flames is broiling. + + For fathers slain the orphans' cries, + The widowed mothers' moan and wail, + Of brides bereaved the whimpering sighs, + Like music sweet, our ears regale. + + Beneath the axe to see them writhe, + Bellow like calves, fall dead like flies; + Such bonny sights, and sounds so blithe, + With rapture fill our eats and eyes. + + And when at last our death-knell rings-- + The devil take that hour! + Payment in full the hangman brings, + And off the stage we scour. + On the road a glass of good liquor or so, + Then hip! hip! hip! and away we go! + + +SCHWEITZER. The night is far advanced, and the captain has not yet +returned. + +RAZ. And yet he promised to be back before the clock struck eight. + +SCHWEITZER. Should any harm have befallen him, comrades, wouldn't we +kindle fires! ay, and murder sucking babes? + +SPIEGEL. (takes RAZMANN aside). A word in your ear, Razmann! + +SCHWARZ (to GRIMM). Should we not send out scouts? + +GRIMM. Let him alone. He no doubt has some feat in hand that will put +us to shame. + +SCHWEITZER. Then you are out, by old Harry! He did not part from us +like one that had any masterpiece of roguery in view. Have you +forgotten what he said as he marched us across the heath? "The fellow +that takes so much as a turnip out of a field, if I know it, leaves his +head behind him, as true as my name is Moor." We dare not plunder. + +RAZ. (aside to SPIEGELBERG). What are you driving at? Speak plainer. + +SPIEGEL. Hush! hush! I know not what sort of a notion you and I have of +liberty, that we should toil under the yoke like bullocks, while we are +making such wonderful fine speeches about independence. I like it not. + +SCHWEITZER (to GRIMM). What crotchet has that swaggering booby got in +his numskull, I wonder? + +RAZ. (aside to SPIEGELBERG). Is it the captain you mean?-- + +SPIEGEL. Hush! I tell you; hush! He has got his eavesdroppers all +around us. Captain, did you say? Who made him captain over us? Has he +not, in fact, usurped that title, which by right belongs to me? What? +Is it for this that we stake our lives--that we endure all the splenetic +caprices of fortunes--that we may in the end congratulate ourselves upon +being the serfs of a slave? Serfs! When we might be princes? By +heaven! Razmann, I could never brook it. + +SCHWEITZER (overhearing him--to the others). Yes--there's a hero for +you! He is just the man to do mighty execution upon frogs with stones. +The very breath of his nostrils, when he sneezes, would blow you through +the eye of a needle. + +SPIEGEL. (to RAZMANN). Yes--and for years I have been intent upon it. +There must be an alteration, Razmann. If you are the man I always took +you for--Razmann! He is missing--he is almost given up--Razmann-- +methinks his hour is come. What? does not the color so much as mount to +your cheek when you hear the chimes of liberty ringing in your ears? +Have you not courage enough to take the hint? + +RAZ. Ha! Satan! What bait art thou spreading for my soul? + +SPIEGEL. Does it take? Good! then follow me! I have marked in what +direction he slunk off. Come along! a brace of pistols seldom fail; +and then--we shall be the first to strangle sucking babes. (He +endeavors to draw him of.) + +SCHWEITZER (enraged, draws his sword). Ha! caitiff! I have overheard +you! You remind me, at the right moment, of the Bohemian forest! Were +not you the coward that began to quail when the cry arose, "the enemy is +coming!" I then swore by my soul--(They fight, SPIEGELBERG is killed.) +To the devil with thee, assassin! + +ROBBERS (in agitation). Murder! murder!--Schweitzer!--Spiegelberg!-- +Part them! + +SCHWEITZER (throwing the sword on the body). There let him rot! Be +still, my comrades! Don't let such a trifle disturb you. The brute has +always been inveterate against the captain and has not a single scar on +his whole body. Once more, be still. Ha, the scoundrel! He would stab +a man behind his back--skulk and murder! Is it for this that the hot +sweat has poured down us in streams? that we may sneak out of the world +at last like contemptible wretches? The brute! Is it for this that we +have lived in fire and brimstone? To perish at last like rats? + +GRIMM. But what the devil, comrade, were you after? What were you +quarreling about? The captain will be furious. + +SCHWEITZER. Be that on my head. And you, wretch (to RAZMANN) you were +his accomplice, you! Get out of my sight! Schufterle was another of +your kidney, but he has met his deserts in Switzerland--has been hanged, +as the captain prophesied. (A shot is heard.) + +SCHWARZ (jumping up). Hark! a pistol shot! (Another shot is heard.) +Another! Hallo! the captain! + +GRIMM. Patience! If it be he, there will be a third. (The third shot +is heard.) + +SCHWARZ. 'Tis he! 'Tis the captain! Absent yourself awhile, +Schweitzer--till we explain to him! (They fire.) + + Enter CHARLES VON MOOR and KOSINSKY. + +SCHWEITZER (running to meet them). Welcome, captain. I have been +somewhat choleric in your absence. (He conducts him to the corpse.) Be +you judge between him and me. He meant to waylay and assassinate you. + +ROBBERS (in consternation). What; the captain? + +CHARLES (after fixing his eyes for some time upon the corpse, with a +sudden burst of feeling). Oh, incomprehensible finger of the avenging +Nemesis! Was it not he whose siren song seduced me to be what I am? +Let this sword be consecrated to the dark goddess of retribution! That +was not thy deed, Schweitzer. + +SCHWEITZER. By heaven, it was mine, though! and, as the devil lives, +it is not the worst deed I have done in my time. (Turns away moodily.) + +CHARLES (absorbed in thought). I comprehend--Great Ruler in heaven-- +I comprehend. The leaves fall from the trees, and my autumn is come. +Remove this object from my sight! (The corpse of SPIEGELBERG is carried +out.) + +GRIMM. Give us your orders, captain! What shall we do next? + +CHARLES. Soon--very soon--all will be accomplished. Hand me my lute; +I have lost myself since I have been there. My lute, I say--I must +nurse up my strength again. Leave me! + +ROBBERS. 'Tis midnight, captain. + +CHARLES. They were only stage tears after all. Let me bring to memory +the song of the old Roman, that my slumbering genius may wake up again. +Hand me my lute. Midnight, say you? + +SCHWARZ. Yes, and past, too! Our eyes are as heavy as lead. For three +days we have not slept a wink. + +CHARLES. What? does balmy sleep visit the eyes of murderers? Why doth +it flee mine? I never was a coward, nor a villain. Lay yourselves to +rest. At day-break we march. + +ROBBERS. Good night, captain. (They stretch them selves on the ground +and fall asleep.) + + + Profound silence. CHARLES VON MOOR takes up his + guitar, and plays. + + +BRUTUS. +Oh, be ye welcome, realms of peace and rest! +Receive the last of all the sons of Rome! +From dread Philippi's field, where all the best +Fell bleeding in her cause, I wearied come. +Cassius, no more! And Rome now prostrate laid! +My brethren all lie weltering in their gore! +No refuge left but Hades' gloomy shade; +No hope remains!--No world for Brutus more! + +CAESAR. +Who's he that, with a hero's lofty bearing, +Comes striding o'er yon mountain's rocky bed? +Unless my eyes deceive, that noble daring +Bespeaks the Roman warrior's fearless tread. +Whence, son of Tiber, do thy footsteps bend! +Say, stands the seven-billed city firmly yet? +No Caesar there, to be the soldiers friend! +Full oft has he that orphaned city wept. + +BRUTUS. +Ha! thou of three-and-twenty wounds! Avaunt! +Thou unblest shade, what calls thee back to light? +Down with thee, down, to Pluto's deepest haunt, +And shroud thy form in black, eternal night, +Proud mourner! triumph not to learn our fall! +Phillippi's altars reek with freedom's blood? +The bier of Brutus is Rome's funeral pall; +He Minos seeks. Hence to thy Stygian flood! + +CAESAR. +That death-stroke, Brutus, which thy weapon hurled! +Thou, too, Brutus?--that thou shouldst be my foe! +Oh, son! It was thy father! Son! The world +Was thine by heritage! Now proudly go, +Well mayst thou claim to be the chief in glory, +'Twas thy fell sword that pierced thy father's heart! +Now go--and at yon gates relate thy story-- +Say Brutus claims to be the chief in glory, +'Twas his fell sword that pierced his father's heart! +Go--Now thou'rt told what staid me on this shore, +Grim ferryman, push off, and swiftly ply thine oar. + +BRUTUS. +Stay, father, stay! Within the whole bright round +Of Sol's diurnal course I knew but one +Who to compare with Caesar could be found; +And that one, Caesar, thou didst call thy son! +'Twas only Caesar could destroy a Rome; +Brutus alone that Caesar could withstand-- +Where Brutus lives, must Caesar die! Thy home +Be far from mine. I'll seek another land. + + [He lays down his guitar, and walks to and + fro in deep meditation.] + +Who will give me certainty! All is so dark--a confused labyrinth--no +outlet--no guiding star. Were but all to end with this last gasp of +breath. To end, like an empty puppet-show. But why then this burning +thirst after happiness? Wherefore this ideal of unattained perfection? +This looking to an hereafter for the fulfilment of our hopes? If the +paltry pressure of this paltry thing (putting a pistol to his head) +makes the wise man and the fool--the coward and the brave--the noble and +the villain equal?--the harmony which pervades the inanimate world is so +divinely perfect--why, then, should there be such discord in the +intellectual? No! no! there must be something beyond, for I have not +yet attained to happiness. + +Think ye that I will tremble, spirits of my slaughtered victims? No, +I will not tremble. (Trembling violently.) The shrieks of your dying +agonies--your black, convulsive features--your ghastly bleeding wounds-- +what are they all but links of one indissoluble chain of destiny, which +hung upon the temperament of my father, the life's blood of my mother, +the humors of my nurses and tutors, and even upon the holiday pastimes +of my childhood! (Shaking with horror.) Why has my Perillus made of me +a brazen bull, whose burning entrails yearn after human flesh? (He +lifts the pistol again to his head.) + +Time and Eternity!--linked together by a single instant! Fearful key, +which locks behind me the prisonhouse of life, and opens before me the +habitations of eternal night--tell me--oh, tell me--whither--whither +wilt thou lead me? Strange, unexplored land! Humanity is unnerved at +the fearful thought, the elasticity of our finite nature is paralyzed, +and fancy, that wanton ape of the senses, juggles our credulity with +appalling phantoms. No! no! a man must be firm. Be what thou wilt, +thou undefined futurity, so I remain but true to myself. Be what thou +wilt, so I but take this inward self hence with me. External forms are +but the trappings of the man. My heaven and my hell is within. + +What if Thou shouldst doom me to be sole inhabitant of some burnt-out +world which thou hast banished from thy sight, where darkness and never- +ending desolation were all my prospect; then would my creative brain +people the silent waste with its own images, and I should have eternity +for leisure to unravel the complicated picture of universal +wretchedness. Or wilt thou make me pass through ever-repeated births +and ever-changing scenes of misery, stage by stage*--to annihilation? + + [This and other passages will remind the reader of Cato's soliloquy + "It must be so, Plato; thou reasonest well." But the whole bears a + strong resemblance to Hamlet's "To be or not to be;" and some + passages in Measure for Measure, Act iii, Sc. 1.] + +Can I not burst asunder the life-threads woven for me in another world +as easily as I do these? Thou mayest reduce me into nothing; but Thou +canst not take from me this power. (He loads the pistol, and then +suddenly pauses.) And shall I then rush into death from a coward fear +of the ills of life? Shall I yield to misery the palm of victory over +myself? No! I will endure it! (He flings the pistol away.) Misery +shall blunt its edge against my pride! Be my destiny fulfilled! (It +grows darker and darker.) + +HERMANN (coming through the forest). Hark! hark! the owl screeches +horribly--the village clock strikes twelve. Well, well--villainy is +asleep--no listeners in these wilds. (He goes to the castle and +knocks.) Come forth, thou man of sorrow! tenant of the miserable +dungeon! thy meal awaits thee. + +CHARLES (stepping gently back, unperceived). What means this? + +VOICE (from within the castle). Who knocks? Is it you, Hermann, my +raven? + +HERMANN. Yes, 'tis Hermann, your raven. Come to the grating and eat. +(Owls are screeching.) Your night companions make a horrid noise, old +man! Do you relish your repast? + +VOICE. Yes--I was very hungry. Thanks to thee, thou merciful sender of +ravens, for this thy bread in the wilderness! And how is my dear child, +Hermann? + +HERMANN. Hush!--hark!--A noise like snoring! Don't you hear something? + +VOICE. What? Do you hear anything? + +HERMANN. 'Tis the whistling of the wind through the crannies of the +tower--a serenading which makes one's teeth chatter, and one's nails +turn blue. Hark! tis there again. I still fancy I hear snoring. You +have company, old man. Ugh! ugh! ugh! + +VOICE. Do you see anything? + +HERMANN. Farewell! farewell! this is a fearful place. Go down into +your bole,--thy deliverer, thy avenger is above. Oh! accursed son! (Is +about to fly.) + +CHARLES (stepping forth with horror). Stand! + +HERMANN (screaming). Oh, me!* + + *[In the acting edition Hermann, instead of this, says,-- + 'Tis one of his spies for certain, I have lost all fear (draws his + sword). Villain, defend yourself! You have a man before you.] + + MOOR. I'll have an answer (strikes the sword out of his hand). + What boots this childish sword-play? Didst thou not speak of + vengeance? Vengeance belongs especially to me--of all men on + earth. Who dares interfere with my vocation? + + HERMANN (starts back in affright). By heaven! That man was not + born of woman. His touch withers like the stroke of death. + + VOICE. Alas, Hermann! to whom are you speaking? + + MOOR. What! still those sounds? What is going on there? (Runs + towards the tower.) Some horrible mystery, no doubt, lies concealed + in that tower. This sword shall bring it to light. + + HERMANN (comes forward trembling). Terrible stranger! art thou + the demon of this fearful desert--or perhaps 'one of the ministers + of that unfathonable retribution who make their circuit in this + lower world, and take account of all the deeds of darkness? Oh! + if thou art, be welcome to this tower of horrors! + + MOOR. Well guessed, wanderer of the night! You have divined my + function. Exterminating Angel is my name; but I am flesh and blood + like thee. Is this some miserable wretch, cast out of men, and + buried in this dungeon? I will loosen his chains. Once more, + speak! thou voice of terror Where is the door? + + HERMANN. As soon could Satan force the gates of heaven as thou + that door. Retire, thou man of might! The genius of the wicked is + beyond the ordinary powers of man. + + MOOR. But not the craft of robbers. (He takes some pass-keys from + his pocket.) For once I thank heaven I've learned that craft! + These keys would mock hell's foresight. (He takes a key, and opens + the gate of the tower. An old man comes from below emaciated like + a skeleton. MOOR springs back with of right.) Horrible spectre! + my father! + +CHARLES. Stand! I say. + +HERMANN. Woe! woe! woe! now all is discovered! + +CHARLES. Speak! Who art thou? What brought thee here? Speak! + +HERMANN. Mercy, mercy! gracious sir! Hear but one word before you +kill me. + +CHARLES (drawing his sword). What am I to hear? + +HERMANN. 'Tis true, he forbade me at the peril of my life--but I could +not help it--I dare not do otherwise--a God in heaven--your own +venerable father there--pity for him overcame me. Kill me, if you will! + +CHARLES. There's some mystery here--Out with it! Speak! I must know +all. + +VOICE (from the castle). Woe! woe! Is it you, Hermann, that are +speaking? To whom are you speaking, Hermann? + +CHARLES. Some one else down there? What is the meaning of all this? +(Runs towards the castle.) It is some prisoner whom mankind have cast +off! I will loosen his chains. Voice! Speak! Where is the door? + +HERMANN. Oh, have mercy, sir--seek no further, I entreat--for mercy's +sake desist! (He stops his way.) + +CHARLES. Locks, bolts, and bars, away! It must come out. Now, for the +first time, come to my aid, thief-craft! (He opens the grated iron door +with, housebreaking tools. An OLD MAN, reduced to a skeleton, comes up +from below.) + +THE OLD MAN. Mercy on a poor wretch! Mercy! + +CHARLES (starts back in terror). That is my father's voice! + +OLD MOOR. I thank thee, merciful Heaven! The hour of deliverance has +arrived. + +CHARLES. Shade of the aged Moor! what has disturbed thee in thy grave? +Has thy soul left this earth charged with some foul crime that bars the +gates of Paradise against thee? Say?--I will have masses read, to send +thy wandering spirit to its home. Hast thou buried in the earth the +gold of widows and orphans, that thou art driven to wander howling +through the midnight hour? I will snatch the hidden treasure from the +clutches of the infernal dragon, though he should vomit a thousand +redhot flames upon me, and gnash his sharp teeth against my sword. Or +comest thou, at my request, to reveal to me the mysteries of eternity? +Speak, thou! speak! I am not the man to blanch with fear! + +OLD MOOR. I am not a spirit. Touch me--I live but oh! a life indeed of +misery! + +CHARLES. What! hast thou not been buried? + +OLD MOOR. I was buried--that is to say, a dead dog lies in the vault of +my ancestors, and I have been pining for three long moons in this dark +and loathsome dungeon, where no sunbeam shines, no warm breeze +penetrates, where no friend is seen, where the hoarse raven croaks and +owls screech their midnight concert. + +CHARLES. Heaven and earth! Who has done this? + +OLD MOOR. Curse him not! 'Tis my son, Francis, who did this. + +CHARLES. Francis? Francis? Oh, eternal chaos! + +OLD MOOR. If thou art a man, and hast a human heart--oh! my unknown +deliverer--then listen to a father's miseries which his own sons have +heaped upon him. For three long moons I have moaned my pitiful tale to +these flinty walls--but all my answer was an empty echo, that seemed to +mock my wailings. Therefore, if thou art a man, and hast a human +heart-- + +CHARLES. That appeal might move even wild beasts to pity. + +OLD MOOR. I lay upon a sick bed, and had scarcely begun to recover a +little strength, after a dangerous illness, when a man was brought to +me, who pretended that my first-born had fallen in battle. He brought a +sword stained with his blood, and his last farewell--and said that my +curse had driven him into battle, and death, and despair. + +CHARLES (turning away in violent agitation). The light breaks in upon +me! + +OLD MOOR. Hear me on! I fainted at the dreadful news. They must have +thought me dead; for, when I recovered my senses, I was already in my +coffin, shrouded like a corpse. I scratched against the lid. It was +opened--'twas in the dead of night--my son Francis stood before me-- +"What!" said he, with a tremendous voice, "wilt thou then live forever?" +--and with this he slammed-to the lid of the coffin. The thunder of +these words bereft me of my senses; when I awoke again, I felt that the +coffin was in motion, and being borne on wheels. At last it was opened +--I found myself at the entrance of this dungeon--my son stood before +me, and the man, too, who had brought me the bloody sword from Charles. +I fell at my son's feet, and ten times I embraced his knees, and wept, +and conjured, and supplicated, but the supplications of a father reached +not his flinty heart. "Down with the old carcass!" said he, with a +voice of thunder, "he has lived too long;"--and I was thrust down +without mercy, and my son Francis closed the door upon Me. + +CHARLES. Impossible!--impossible! Your memory or senses deceive you. + +OLD MOOR. Oh, that it were so! But hear me on, and restrain your rage! +There I lay for twenty hours, and not a soul cared for my misery. No +human footstep treads this solitary wild, for 'tis commonly believed +that the ghosts of my ancestors drag clanking chains through these +ruins, and chant their funeral dirge at the hour of midnight. At last +I heard the door creak again on its hinges; this man opened it, and +brought me bread and water. He told me that I had been condemned to die +of hunger, and that his life was in danger should it be discovered that +he fed me. Thus has my miserable existence been till now sustained--but +the unceasing cold--the foul air of my filthy dungeon--my incurable +grief--have exhausted my strength, and reduced my body to a skeleton. A +thousand times have I implored heaven, with tears, to put an end to my +sufferings--but doubtless the measure of my punishment is not +fulfilled,--or some happiness must be yet in store for me, for which he +deigns thus miraculously to preserve me. But I suffer justly--my +Charles! my Charles!--and before there was even a gray hair on his Head! + +CHARLES. Enough! Rise! ye stocks, ye lumps of ice! ye lazy unfeeling +sleepers! Up! will none of you awake? (He fires a pistol over their +heads.) + +THE ROBBERS (starting up). Ho! hallo! hallo! what is the matter? + +CHARLES. Has not that tale shaken you out of your sleep? 'Tis enough +to break the sleep eternal! See here, see here! The laws of the world +have become mere dice-play; the bonds of nature are burst asunder; the +Demon of Discord has broken loose, and stalks abroad triumphant! the Son +has slain his Father! + +THE ROBBERS. What does the captain say? + +CHARLES. Slain! did I say? No, that is too mild a term! A son has +a thousand-fold broken his own father on the wheel,--impaled, racked, +flayed him alive!--but all these words are too feeble to express what +would make sin itself blush and cannibals shudder. For ages, no devil +ever conceived a deed so horrible. His own father!--but see, see him! +he has fainted away! His own father--the son--into this dungeon--cold-- +naked--hungry--athirst--Oh! see, I pray you, see!--'tis my own father, +in very truth it is. + +THE ROBBERS (come running and surround the old man). Your father? +Yours? + +SCHWEITZER (approaches him reverently, and falls on his knees before +him). Father of my captain! let me kiss thy feet! My dagger is at thy +command. + +CHARLES. Revenge, revenge, revenge! thou horribly injured, profaned +old man! Thus, from this moment, and forever, I rend in twain all ties +of fraternity. (He rends his garment from top to bottom.) Here, in the +face of heaven, I curse him--curse every drop of blood which flows in +his veins! Hear me, O moon and stars! and thou black canopy of night, +that lookest down upon this horror! Hear me, thrice terrible avenger. +Thou who reignest above yon pallid orb, who sittest an avenger and a +judge above the stars, and dartest thy fiery bolts through darkness on +the head of guilt! Behold me on my knees behold me raise this hand +aloft in the gloom of night--and hear my oath--and may nature vomit me +forth as some horrible abortion from out the circle of her works if I +break that oath! Here I swear that I will never more greet the light of +day, till the blood of that foul parricide, spilt upon this stone, reeks +in misty vapor towards heaven. (He rises.) + +ROBBERS. 'Tis a deed of hell! After this, who shall call us villains? +No! by all the dragons of darkness we never have done anything half so +horrible. + +CHARLES. True! and by all the fearful groans of those whom your daggers +have despatched--of those who on that terrible day were consumed by +fire, or crushed by the falling tower--no thought of murder or rapine +shall be harbored in your breast, till every man among you has dyed his +garments scarlet in this monster's blood. It never, I should think, +entered your dreams, that it would fall to your lot to execute the +great decrees of heaven? The tangled web of our destiny is unravelled! +To-day, to-day, an invisible power has ennobled our craft! Worship Him +who has called you to this high destiny, who has conducted you hither, +and deemed ye worthy to be the terrible angels of his inscrutable +judgments! Uncover your heads! Bow down and kiss the dust, and rise up +sanctified. (They kneel.) + +SCHWEITZER. Now, captain, issue your commands! What shall we do? + +CHARLES. Rise, Schweitzer! and touch these sacred locks! (Leading him +to his father, and putting a lock of hair in his hand.) Do you remember +still, how you, cleft the skull of that Bohemian trooper, at the moment +his sabre was descending on my head, and I had sunk down on my knees, +breathless and exhausted? 'Twas then I promised thee a reward that +should be right royal. But to this hour I have never been able to +discharge that debt. + +SCHWEITZER. You swore that much to me, 'tis true; but let me call you +my debtor forever! + +CHARLES. No; now will I repay thee, Schweitzer! No mortal has yet been +honored as thou shalt be. I appoint thee avenger of my father's wrongs! +(SCHWEITZER rises.) + +SCHWEITZER. Mighty captain! this day you have, for the first time, made +me truly proud! Say, when, where, how shall I smite him? + +CHARLES. The minutes are sacred. You must hasten to the work. Choose +the best of the band, and lead them straight to the count's castle! +Drag him from his bed, though he sleep, or he folded in the arms of +pleasure! Drag him from the table, though he be drunk! Tear him from +the crucifix, though he lie on his knees before it! But mark my words-- +I charge thee, deliver him into my hands alive! I will hew that man to +pieces, and feed the hungry vultures with his flesh, who dares but graze +his skin, or injure a single hair of his head! I must have him whole. +Bring him to me whole and alive, and a million shall be thy reward. +I'll plunder kings at the risk of my life, but thou shalt have it, and +go free as air. Thou hast my purpose--see it done! + +SCHWEITZER. Enough, captain! here is my hand upon it. You shall see +both of us, or neither. Come, Schweitzer's destroying angels, follow +me! (Exit with a troop.) + +CHARLES. The rest of you disperse in the forest--I remain here. + + + + + ACT V. + + SCENE I. A vista of rooms. Dark night. + + Enter DANIEL, with a lantern and a bundle. + +DANIEL. Farewell, dear home! How many happy days have I enjoyed within +these walls, while my old master lived. Tears to thy memory, thou whom +the grave has long since devoured! He deserves this tribute from an old +servant. His roof was the asylum of orphans, the refuge of the +destitute, but this son has made it a den of murderers. Farewell, thou +dear floor! How often has old Daniel scrubbed thee! Farewell, dear +stove, old Daniel takes a heavy leave of thee. All things had grown so +familiar to thee,--thou wilt feel it sorely, old Eleazar. But heaven +preserve me through grace from the wiles and assault of the tempter. +Empty I came hither--empty I will depart,--but my soul is saved! (He is +in the act of going out, when he is met by FRANCIS, rushing in, in his +dressing-gown.) Heaven help me! Master! (He puts out his lantern.) + +FRANCIS. Betrayed! betrayed! The spirit of the dead are vomited from +their graves. The realm of death, shaken out of its eternal slumber, +roars at me, "Murderer, murderer!" Who moves there? + +DANIEL (frightened). Help, holy Virgin! help! Is it you, my gracious +master, whose shrieks echo so terribly through the castle that every one +is aroused out of his sleep? + +FRANCIS. Sleep? And who gave thee leave to sleep? Go, get lights! +(Exit DANIEL. Enter another servant.) No one shall sleep at this hour. +Do you hear? All shall be awake--in arms--let the guns be loaded! Did +you not see them rushing through yon vaulted passages? + +SERVANT. See whom, my lord? + +FRANCIS. Whom? you dolt, slave! And do you, with a cold and vacant +stare, ask me whom? Have they not beset me almost to madness? Whom? +blockhead! whom? Ghosts and demons! How far is the night advanced? + +SERVANT. The watch has just called two. + +FRANCIS. What? will this eternal night last till doomsday? Did you +hear no tumult near? no shout of victory? no trampling of horses? +Where is Char--the Count, I would say? + +SERVANT. I know not, my lord. + +FRANCIS. You know not? And are you too one of his gang? I'll tread +your villain's heart out through your ribs for that infernal "I know +not!" Begone, fetch the minister! + +SERVANT. My lord! + +FRANCIS. What! Do you grumble? Do you demur? (Exit servant hastily.) +Do my very slaves conspire against me? Heaven, earth, and hell--all +conspire against me! + +DANIEL (returns with a lighted candle). My lord! + +FRANCIS. Who said I trembled? No!--'twas but a dream. The dead still +rest in their graves! Tremble! or pale? No, no! I am calm--quite +tranquil. + +DANIEL. You are as pale as death, my lord; your voice is weak and +faltering. + +FRANCIS. I am somewhat feverish. When the minister comes be sure you +say I am in a fever. Say that I intend to be bled in the morning. + +DANIEL. Shall I give you some drops of the balsam of life on sugar? + +FRANCIS. Yes, balsam of life on sugar! The minister will not be here +just yet. My voice is weak and faltering. Give me of the balsam of +life on sugar! + +DANIEL. Let me have the keys, I will go down to the closet and get it. + +FRANCIS. No! no! no! Stay!--or I will go with you. You see I must not +be left alone! How easily I might, you see--faint--if I should be left +alone. Never mind, never mind! It will pass off--you must not leave +me. + +DANIEL. Indeed, Sir, you are ill, very ill. + +FRANCIS. Yes, just so, just so, nothing more. And illness, you know, +bewilders the brain, and breeds strange and maddening dreams. What +signify dreams? Dreams come from the stomach and cannot signify +anything. Is it not so, Daniel? I had a very comical dream just now. +(He sinks down fainting.) + +DANIEL. Oh, merciful heaven! what is this? George!--Conrad! +Sebastian! Martin! Give but some sign of life! (Shaking him.) Oh, the +Blessed Virgin! Oh, Joseph! Keep but your reason! They will say I +have murdered him! Lord have mercy upon me! + +FRANCIS (confused). Avaunt!--avaunt!--why dost thou glare upon me thus, +thou horrible spectre? The time for the resurrection of the dead is not +yet come. + +DANIEL. Merciful heavens! he has lost his senses. + +FRANCIS (recovering himself gradually). Where am I? You here, Daniel? +What have I said? Heed it not. I have told a lie, whatever I said. +Come, help me up! 'T was only a fit of delirium--because--because--I +have not finished my night's rest. + +DANIEL. If John were but here! I'll call for help--I'll send for the +physician. + +FRANCIS. Stay! Seat yourself by my side on this sofa! There. You are +a sensible man, a good man. Listen to my dream! + +DANIEL. Not now; another time! Let me lead you to bed; you have great +need of rest. + +FRANCIS. No, no; I prythee, listen, Daniel, and have a good laugh at +me. You must know I fancied that I held a princely banquet, my heart +was merry, and I lay stretched on the turf in the castle garden; and all +on a sudden--it was at midday--and all on a sudden--but mind you have a +good laugh at me! + +DANIEL. All on a sudden. + +FRANCIS. All on a sudden a tremendous peal of thunder struck upon my +slumbering ear; I started up staggering and trembling; and lo, it seemed +as if the whole hemisphere had burst forth in one flaming sheet of fire, +and mountains, and cities, and forests melted away like wax in the +furnace; and then rose a howling whirlwind, which swept before it the +earth, and the sea, and heaven; then came a sound, as from brazen +trumpets, "Earth, give up thy dead: sea, give up thy dead!" and the open +plains began to heave, and to cast up skulls, and ribs, and jawbones, +and legs, which drew together into human bodies, and then came sweeping +along in dense, interminable masses--a living deluge. Then I looked up, +and to! I stood at the foot of the thundering Sinai, and above me was a +multitude, and below me a multitude; and on the summit of the mountain, +on three smoking thrones, sat three men, before whose gaze all creation +trembled. + +DANIEL. Why, this is a living picture of the day of judgment. + +FRANCIS. Did I not tell you? Is it not ridiculous stuff? And one +stepped forth who, to look upon, was like a starlight night; he had in +his hand a signet ring of iron, which he held up between the east and +the west, and said, "Eternal, holy, just, immutable! There is but one +truth; there is but one virtue! Woe, woe, woe! to the doubting sinner!" +Then stepped forth a second, who had in his hand a flashing mirror, +which he held up between the east and west, and said, "This is the +mirror of truth; hypocrisy and deceit cannot look on it." Then was I +terrified, and so were all, for we saw the forms of snakes, and tigers, +and leopards reflected from that fearful mirror. Then stepped forth a +third, who had in his hand a brazen balance, which he held up between +the east and the west, and said, "Approach, ye sons of Adam! I weigh +your thoughts in the balance of my wrath! and your deeds with the weight +of my fury!" + +DANIEL. The Lord have mercy upon me! + +FRANCIS. They all stood pale and trembling, and every heart was panting +with fearful expectation. Then it seemed to me as if I heard my name +called the first from out the thunders of the mountain, and the +innermost marrow froze within my bones, and my teeth chattered loudly. +Presently the clang of the balance was heard, the rocks sent forth +thunders, and the hours glided by, one after the other, towards the left +scale, and each threw into it a mortal sin! + +DANIEL. Oh, may God forgive you! + +FRANCIS. He forgave me not! The left scale grew mountains high, but the +other, filled with the blood of atonement, still outweighed it. At last +came an old man, heavily bowed down with grief, his arm gnawed through +with raging hunger. Every eye turned away in horror from the sight. I +knew the man--he cut off a lock of his silver hair, and cast it into the +scale of my sins, when to! in an instant, it sank down to the abyss, and +the scale of atonement flew up on high. Then heard I a voice, issuing +like thunder from the bowels *[Some editions of the original read Rauch +(smoke), some Bauch, as translated.] of the mountain, "Pardon, pardon to +every sinner of the earth and of the deep! Thou alone art rejected!" +(A profound pause.) Well, why don't you laugh? + +DANIEL. Can I laugh while my flesh creeps? Dreams come from above. + +FRANCIS. Pshaw! pshaw! Say not so! Call me a fool, an idiot, an +absurd fool! Do, there's a good Daniel, I entreat of you; have a hearty +laugh at me! + +DANIEL. Dreams come from God. I will pray for you. + +FRANCIS. Thou liest, I tell thee. Go, this instant, run! be quick! +see where the minister tarries all this time; tell him to come quickly, +instantly! But, I tell thee, thou liest! + +DANIEL. Heaven have mercy upon you! + [Exit.] + +FRANCIS. Vulgar prejudice! mere superstition! It has not yet been +proved that the past is not past and forgotten, or that there is an eye +above this earth to take account of what passes on it. Humph! Humph! +But whence, then, this fearful whisper to my soul? Is there really an +avenging judge above the stars? No, no! Yes, yes! A fearful monitor +within bears witness that there is One above the stars who judgeth! +What! meet the avenger above the stars this very night? No, no! I say. +All is empty, lonely, desolate, beyond the stars. Miserable subterfuge, +beneath which thy cowardice seeks to hide itself. And if there should +be something in it after all? No! no! it cannot be. I insist that it +cannot be! But yet, if there should be! Woe to thee if thy sins should +all have been registered above!--if they should be counted over to thee +this very night! Why creeps this shudder through my frame? To die! +Why does that word frighten me thus? To give an account to the Avenger, +there, above the stars! and if he should be just--the wails of orphans +and widows, of the oppressed, the tormented, ascending to his ears, and +be be just? Why have they been afflicted? And why have I been +permitted to trample upon them? + + Enter PASTOR MOSER. + +MOSER. Your lordship sent for me! I am surprised! The first time in +my life! Is it to scoff at religion, or does it begin to make you +tremble? + +FRANCIS. I may scoff or I may tremble, according as you shall answer +me. Listen to me, Moser, I will prove that you are a fool, or wish to +make fools of others, and you shall answer me. Do you hear? At the +peril of your life you shall answer me. + +MOSER. 'Tis a higher Being whom you summon before your tribunal. He +will answer you hereafter. + +FRANCIS. I will be answered now, this instant, that I may not commit +the contemptible folly of calling upon the idol of the vulgar under the +pressure of suffering. I have often, in bumpers of Burgundy, tauntingly +pledged you in the toast, "There is no God!" Now I address myself to +you in earnest, and I tell you there is none? You shall oppose me with +all the weapons in your power; but with the breath of my lips I will +blow them away. + +MOSER. 'Twere well that you could also blow away the thunder which will +alight upon your proud soul with ten thousand times ten thousand tons' +weight! That omniscient God, whom you--fool and miscreant--are denying +in the midst of his creation, needeth not to justify himself by the +mouth of dust. He is as great in your tyrannies as in the sweetest +smile of triumphant virtue. + +FRANCIS. Uncommonly well said, parson. Thus I like you. + +MOSER. I stand here as steward of a greater Master, and am addressing +one who, like myself, is a sinner--one whom I care not to please. I +must indeed be able to work miracles, to extort the acknowledgment from +your obdurate wickedness--but if your conviction is so firm, why have +you sent for me in the middle of the night? + +FRANCIS. Because time hangs heavy on my hands, and the chess-board has +ceased to have any attraction. I wish to amuse myself in a tilt with +the parson. Your empty terrors will not unman my courage. I am well +aware that those who have come off short in this world look forward to +eternity; but they will be sadly disappointed. I have always read that +our whole body is nothing more than a blood-spring, and that, with its +last drop, mind and thought dissolve into nothing. They share all the +infirmities of the body; why, then, should they not cease with its +dissolution? Why not evaporate in its decomposition? Let a drop of +water stray into your brain, and life makes a sudden pause, which +borders on non-existence, and this pause continued is death. Sensation +is the vibration of a few chords, which, when the instrument is broken, +cease to sound. If I raze my seven castles--if I dash this Venus to +pieces--there is an end of their symmetry and beauty. Behold! thus is +it with your immortal soul! + +MOSER. So says the philosophy of your despair. But your own heart, +which knocks against your ribs with terror even while you thus argue, +gives your tongue the lie. These cobwebs of systems are swept away by +the single word--"Thou must die!" I challenge you, and be this the +test: If you maintain your firmness in the hour of death; if your +principles do not then miserably desert you, you shall be admitted to +have the best of the argument. But if, in that dread hour, the least +shudder creeps over you, then woe be to you! you have deceived yourself. + +FRANCIS (disturbed). If in the hour of death a shudder creeps over me? + +MOSER. I have seen many such wretches before now, who set truth at +defiance up to that point; but at the approach of death the illusion +vanished. I will stand at your bedside when you are dying--I should +much like to see a tyrant die. I will stand by, and look you +steadfastly in the face when the physician takes your cold, clammy hand, +and is scarcely able to detect your expiring pulse; and when he looks +up, and, with a fearful shake of the head, says to you, "All human aid +is in vain!" Beware, at that moment, beware, lest you look like Richard +and Nero! + +FRANCIS. No! no! + +MOSER. Even that very "No" will then be turned to a howling "Yea!" An +inward tribunal, which you can no longer cheat with sceptical delusions, +will then wake up and pass judgment upon you. But the waking up will be +like that of one buried alive in the bowels of the churchyard; there +will come remorse like that of the suicide who has committed the fatal +act and repents it;--'twill be a flash of lightning suddenly breaking in +upon the midnight darkness of your life! There will be one look, and, +if you can sustain that, I will admit that you have won! + +FRANCIS (walking up and down restlessly). Cant! Priestly cant! + +MOSER. Then, for the first time, will the sword of eternity pass +through your soul;--and then, for the first time, too late, the thought +of God will wake up a terrible monitor, whose name is Judge. Mark this, +Moor; a thousand lives hang upon your beck; and of those thousand every +nine hundred and ninety-nine have been rendered miserable by you. You +wanted but the Roman empire to be a Nero, the kingdom of Peru to be a +Pizarro. Now do you really think that the Almighty will suffer a worm +like you to play the tyrant in His world and to reverse all his +ordinances? Do you think the nine hundred and ninety-nine were created +only to be destroyed, only to serve as puppets in your diabolical game? +Think it not! He will call you to account for every minute of which you +have robbed them, every joy that you have poisoned, every perfection +that you have intercepted. Then, if you can answer Him--then, Moor, +I will admit that you have won. + +FRANCIS. No more, not another word! Am I to be at the mercy of thy +drivelling fancies? + +MOSER. Beware! The different destinies of mankind are balanced with +terrible nicety. The scale of life which sinks here will rise there, +and that which rises here will sink there. What was here temporary +affliction will there be eternal triumph; and what here was temporary +triumph will there be eternal despair. + +FRANCIS (rushing savagely upon him.) May the thunder of heaven strike +thee dumb, thou lying spirit! I will tear thy venomed tongue out of thy +mouth! + +MOSER. Do you so soon feel the weight of truth? Before I have brought +forward one single word of evidence? Let me first proceed to the +proofs-- + +FRANCIS. Silence! To hell with thee and thy proofs! The soul is +annihilated, I tell thee, and I will not be gainsaid! + +MOSER. That is what the spirits of the bottomless pit are hourly +moaning for; but heaven denies the boon. Do you hope to escape from the +Avenger's arm even in the solitary waste of nothingness? If you climb +up into heaven, he is there! if you make your bed in hell, behold he is +there also! If you say to the night, "Hide me!" and to the darkness, +"Cover me!" even the night shall be light about you, and darkness blaze +upon your damned soul like a noonday sun. + +FRANCIS. But I do not wish to be immortal--let them be so that like; +I have no desire to hinder them. I will force him to annihilate me; +I will so provoke his fury that he may utterly destroy me. Tell me +which are the greatest sins--which excite him to the most terrible +wrath? + +MOSER. I know but two. But men do not commit these, nor do men even +dream of them. + +FRANCIS. What are they? + +MOSER (very significantly). Parricide is the name of the one; +fratricide of the other. Why do you turn so suddenly pale? + +FRANCIS. What, old man? Art thou in league with heaven or with hell? +Who told thee that? + +MOSER. Woe to him that hath them both upon his soul! It were better +for that man that he had never been born! But be at peace; you have no +longer either a father or a brother! + +FRANCIS. Ha! what! Do you know no greater sin? Think again! Death, +heaven, eternity, damnation, hang upon thy lips. Not one greater? + +MOSER. No, not one + +FRANCIS (falling back in a chair). Annihilation! annihilation! + +MOSER. Rejoice, then, rejoice! Congratulate yourself! With all your +abominations you are yet a saint in comparison with a parricide. The +curse that falls upon you is a love ditty in comparison with the curse +that lies upon him. Retribution-- + +FRANCIS (starting up). Away with thee! May the graves open and swallow +thee ten thousand fathoms deep, thou bird of ill omen! Who bade thee +come here? Away, I tell thee, or I will run thee through and through! + +MOSER. Can mere "priestly cant" excite a philosopher to such a pitch of +frenzy? Why not blow it away with a breath of your lips? + (Exit.) + + [FRANCIS throws himself about in his chair in + terrible agitation. Profound stillness.] + + Enter a SERVANT, hastily + +SERVANT. The Lady Amelia has fled. The count has suddenly disappeared. + + Enter DANIEL, in great alarm. + +DANIEL. My lord, a troop of furious horsemen are galloping down the +hill, shouting "murder! murder!" The whole village is in alarm. + +FRANCIS. Quick! let all the bells be tolled--summon everyone to the +chapel--let all fall on their knees--pray for me. All prisoners shall +be released and forgiven--I will make two and threefold restitution to +the poor--I will--why don't you run? Do call in the father confessor, +that he may give me absolution for my sins. What! are you not gone yet? +(The uproar becomes more audible.) + +DANIEL. Heaven have mercy upon me, poor sinner! Can I believe you +in earnest, sir? You, who always made a jest of religion? How many +a Bible and prayer-book have you flung at my bead when by chance you +caught me at my devotions? + +FRANCIS. No more of this. To die! think of it! to die! It will be too +late! (The voice of SCHWEITZER is heard, loud and furious.) Pray for +me, Daniel! Pray, I entreat you! + +DANIEL. I always told you,--"you hold prayer in such contempt; but take +heed! take heed! when the fatal hour comes, when the waters are flowing +in upon your soul, you will be ready to give all the treasures of the +world for one little Christian prayer." Do you see it now? What abuse +you used to heap on me! Now you feel it! Is it not so! + +FRANCIS (embracing him violently). Forgive me! my dear precious jewel +of a Daniel, forgive me! I will clothe you from head to foot--do but +pray. I will make quite a bridegroom of you--I will--only do pray-- +I entreat you--on my knees, I conjure you. In the devil's name, pray! +why don't you pray? (Tumult in the streets, shouts and noises.) + +SCHWEIT. (in the street). Storm the place! Kill all before you! +Force the gates! I see lights! He must be there! + +FRANCIS (on his knees). Listen to my prayer, O God in heaven! It is +the first time--it shall never happen again. Hear me, God in heaven! + +DANIEL. Mercy on me! What are you saying? What a wicked prayer! + + Uproar of the PEOPLE, rushing in. + +PEOPLE. Robbers! murderers! Who makes such a dreadful noise at this +midnight hour! + +SCHWEIT (still in the street). Beat them back, comrades! 'Tis the +devil, come to fetch your master. Where is Schwarz with his troop? +Surround the castle, Grimm! Scale the walls! + +GRIMM. Bring the firebrands. Either we must up or he must down. I will +throw fire into his halls. + +FRANCIS (praying). Oh Lord! I have been no common murderer--I have +been guilty of no petty crimes, gracious Lord-- + +DANIEL. Heaven be merciful to us! His very prayers are turned to sins. +(Stones and firebrands are hurled up from below; the windows fall in +with a crash; the castle takes fire.) + +FRANCIS. I cannot pray. Here! and here! (striking his breast and his +forehead) All is so void--so barren! (Rises from his knees.) No, I will +not pray. Heaven shall not have that triumph, nor hell that pastime. + +DANIEL. O holy Virgin! Help! save! The whole castle is in flames! + +FRANCIS. There, take this sword! Quick! Run it right through my body, +that these fiends may not he in time to make holiday sport of me. (The +fire increases.) + +DANIEL. Heaven forbid? Heaven forbid! I would send no one before his +time to heaven, much less to--(He runs away). + +FRANCIS (following him with a ghastly stare, after a pause). +To hell, thou wouldst say. Indeed! I scent something of the kind. +(In delirium.) Are these their triumphant yells? Do I hear you +hissing, ye serpents of the abyss? They force their way up--they +besiege the door! Why do I shrink from this biting steel? The door +cracks--it yields--there is no escape! Ha! then do thou have mercy upon +me! (He tears away the golden cord from his hat, and strangles +himself.)* + + *[In the acting edition, Francis attempts to throw himself into the + flames, but is prevented by the robbers, and taken alive. He is + then brought before his brother, in chains, for sentence. + SCHWEITZER says, "I have fulfilled my word, and brought him alive." + GRIMM. "We tore him out of the flames and the castle is in ashes." + After confronting Francis with his father, and a reproachful + interview between the brothers, Charles delegates the judgment on + Francis to Schweitzer and Kosinsky, but for himself forgives him in + these words: "Thou hast robbed me of heaven's bliss! Be that sin + blotted out! Thy doom is sealed--perdition is thy lot! But I + forgive thee, brother." Upon this CHARLES embraces and leaves him; + the ROBBERS however, thrust FRANCIS into the dungeon where he had + immured his father, laughing in a savage manner. Beyond this the + fate of Francis is left undetermined. Schweitzer, instead of + killing himself, is made partaker, with Kosinsky, of Moor's + estate.] + + Enter SCHWEITZER and his band. + +SCHWEITZER. Murderous wretch, where art thou? Did you see how they +fled? Has he so few friends? Where has the beast crawled to? + +GRIMM (stumbles over the corpse). Stay! what is this lying in the way? +Lights here. + +SCHWARZ. He has been beforehand with us. Put up your swords. There he +lies sprawling like a dead dog. + +SCHWEITZER. Dead! What! dead? Dead without me? 'Tis a lie, I say. +Mark how quickly he will spring upon his feet! (Shakes him). Hollo! +up with you? There is a father to be murdered. + +GRIMM. Spare your pains. He is as dead as a log. + +SCHWEITZER (steps aside from him). Yes, his game is up! He is dead! +dead! Go back and tell my captain he is as dead as a log. He will not +see me again. (Blows his brains out.) + + + + + SCENE II.--The scene the same as the last scene of the preceding Act. + + OLD MOOR seated on a stone; CHARLES VON MOOR opposite; + ROBBERS scattered through the wood. + +CHARLES. He does not come! (Strikes his dagger against a stone till +the sparks fly.) + +OLD MOOR. Let pardon be his punishment--redoubled love my vengeance. + +CHARLES. No! by my enraged soul that shall not be! I will not permit +it. He shall bear that enormous load of crime with him into eternity!-- +what else should I kill him for? + +OLD MOOR (bursting into tears). Oh my child! + +CHARLES. What! you weep for him? In sight of this dungeon? + +OLD MOOR. Mercy! oh mercy! (Wringing his hands violently.) Now--now my +son is brought to judgment! + +CHARLES (starting). Which son? + +OLD MOOR. Ha! what means that question? + +CHARLES. Nothing! nothing! + +OLD MOOR. Art thou come to make a mockery of my grief? + +CHARLES. Treacherous conscience! Take no heed of my words! + +OLD MOOR. Yes, I persecuted a son, and a son persecutes me in return. +It is the finger of God. Oh my Charles! my Charles! If thou dost hover +around me in the realms of peace, forgive me! oh forgive me! + +CHARLES (hastily). He forgives you! (Checking himself.) If he is +worthy to be called your son, he must forgive you! + +OLD MOOR. Ha! he was too noble a son for me. But I will go to him with +my tears, my sleepless nights, my racking dreams. I will embrace his +knees, and cry--cry aloud--"I have sinned against heaven and before +thee; I am no longer worthy to be called thy father!" + +CHARLES (in deep emotion). Was he very dear to you--that other son? + +OLD MOOR. Heaven is my witness, how much I loved him. Oh, why did I +suffer myself to be beguiled by the arts of a wicked son? I was an +envied father among the fathers of the world--my children full of +promise, blooming by my side! But--oh that fatal hour!--the demon of +envy entered into the heart of my younger son--I listened to the +serpent--and--lost both my children! (Hides his countenance.) + +CHARLES (removes to a distance from him). Lost forever! + +OLD MOOR. Oh, deeply do I feel the words of Amelia. The spirit of +vengeance spoke from her lips. "In vain wilt thou stretch forth thy +dying hands after a son, in vain fancy thou art grasping the warm hands +of thy Charles,--he will never more stand by thy bedside." + + (CHARLES stretches out his hand to him with averted face.) + +Oh, that this were the hand of my Charles! But he is laid far away in +the narrow house--he is sleeping the iron sleep--he hears not the voice +of my lamentation. Woe is me! to die in the arms of a stranger? No son +left--no son left to close my eyes! + +CHARLES (in violent emotion). It must be so--the moment has arrived. +Leave me--(to the ROBBERS.) And yet--can I restore his son to him? +Alas! No! I cannot restore him that son! No! I will not think of it. + +OLD MOOR. Friend! what is that you were muttering? + +CHARLES. Your son--yes, old man--(faltering) your son--is--lost +forever! + +OLD MOOR. Forever? + +CHARLES (looking up to heaven in bitter anguish). Oh this once--keep my +soul from sinking--sustain me but this once! + +OLD MOOR. Forever, did you say. + +CHARLES. Ask no more! I said forever! + +OLD MOOR. Stranger, stranger! why didst thou drag me forth from the +dungeon to remind me of my sorrows? + +CHARLES. And what if I were now to snatch his blessing?--snatch it like +a thief, and steal away with the precious prize? A father's blessing, +they say, is never lost. + +OLD MOOR. And is my Francis too lost? + +CHARLES (falling on his knees before him). 'Twas I who burst the bars +of your dungeon. I crave thy blessing! + +OLD MOOR (sorrowfully). Oh that thou shouldst destroy the son!--thou, +the father's deliverer! Behold! Heaven's mercy is untiring, and we +pitiful worms let the sun go down upon our wrath. (Lays his hand upon +the head of CHARLES.) Be thou happy, even as thou shalt be merciful! + +CHARLES (rising much affected). Oh!--where is my manhood? My sinews +are unstrung--the sword drops from my hand. + +OLD MOOR. How lovely a thing it is when brethren dwell together in +unity; as the dewdrops of heaven that fall upon the mountains of Zion. +Learn to deserve that happiness, young man, and the angels of heaven +will sun themselves in thy glory. Let thy wisdom be the wisdom of gray +hairs, but let thy heart be the heart of innocent childhood. + +CHARLES. Oh, for a foretaste of that happiness! Kiss me, divine old +man! + +OLD MOOR (kissing him). Think it thy father's kiss; and I will think I +am kissing my son. Canst thou too weep? + +CHARLES. I felt as if it were my father's kiss! Woe unto me, were they +to bring him now! + + (The companions of SCHWEITZER enter in a silent and mournful + procession, hanging down their heads and hiding their faces.) + +CHARLES. Good heaven! (Retreats horror-struck, and seeks to hide +himself. They pass by him his face is averted. Profound silence. They +halt.) + +GRIMM (in a subdued tone). My captain! + + [CHARLES does not answer and steps farther back.] + +SCHWARZ. Dear captain! + + [CHARLES retreats still farther.] + +GRIMM. 'Tis not our fault, captain! + +CHARLES (without looking at them). Who are ye? + +GRIMM. You do not look at us! Your faithful followers. + +CHARLES. Woe to ye, if ye are faithful to me! + +GRIMM. The last farewell from your servant Schweitzer!-- + +CHARLES (starting). Then ye have not found him? + +SCHWARZ. Found him dead. + +CHARLES (leaping up with joy). Thanks, O Sovereign Ruler of all things! +--Embrace me, my children!--Mercy be henceforward our watchword!--Now, +were that too surmounted,--all would be surmounted. + + Enter ROBBERS with AMELIA. + +ROBBERS. Hurrah! hurrah! A prize, a splendid prize! + +AMELIA (with hair dishevelled). The dead, they cry, have arisen at his +voice--My uncle alive--in this wood--Where is he? Charles? Uncle!--Ha? +(She rushes into the arms, of OLD MOOR.) + +OLD MOOR. Amelia! my daughter! Amelia! (Holds her tightly grasped in +his arms.) + +CHARLES (starting back). Who brings this image before my eyes. + +AMELIA (tearing herself away from the old man, rushes upon CHARLES, and +embraces him in an ecstasy of delight). I have him, O ye stars! I have +him! + +CHARLES (tearing himself away, to the ROBBERS). Let us be gone, +comrades! The arch fiend has betrayed me! + +AMELIA. My bridegroom, my bridegroom! thou art raving! Ha! 'Tis with +delight! Why, then, am I so cold, so unfeeling, in the midst of this +tumult of happiness? + +OLD MOOR (rousing himself). Bridegroom? Daughter! my daughter! Thy +bridegroom?* + + *[Instead of this the stage edition has, "Come my children! Thy + hand, Charles--and thine, Amelia. Oh! I never looked for such + happiness on this side the grave. Here let me unite you forever."] + +AMELIA. His forever! He forever, ever, mine! Oh! ye heavenly powers! +support me in this ecstasy of bliss, lest I sink beneath its weight! + +CHARLES. Tear her from my neck! Kill her! Kill him! Kill me-- +yourselves--everybody! Let the whole world perish! (About to rush of.) + +AMELIA. Whither? what? Love! eternity! happiness! never-ending joys! +and thou wouldst fly? + +CHARLES. Away, away! most unfortunate of brides! See with thine own +eves; ask, and hear it with thine own ears! Most miserable of fathers! +Let me escape hence forever! + +AMELIA. Support me! for heaven's sake support me! It is growing dark +before my eyes! He flies! + +CHARLES. Too late! In vain! Your curse, father! Ask me no more! +I am--I have--your curse--your supposed curse! Who enticed me hither? +(Rushing upon the ROBBERS with drawn sword.) Which of you enticed me +hither, ye demons of the abyss? Perish, then, Amelia! Die, father! +Die, for the third time, through me! These, thy deliverers, are Robbers +and Murderers! Thy Charles is their Captain! (OLD MOOR expires.) + + [AMELIA stands silent and transfixed like a statue. + The whole band are mute. A fearful pause.] + +CHARLES (rushing against an oak). The souls of those I have strangled +in the intoxication of love--of those whom I crushed to atoms in the +sacredness of sleep--of those whom--Ha! ha! ha! do you hear the powder- +magazine bursting over the heads of women in travail? Do you see the +flames creeping round the cradles of sucklings? That is our nuptial +torch; those shrieks our wedding music! Oh! he forgetteth none of these +things!--he knoweth how to connect the--links in the chain of life. +Therefore do love's delights elude my grasp; therefore is love given me +for a torment! This is retribution! + +AMELIA. 'Tis all true! Thou Ruler in heaven! 'Tis all true! What +have I done, poor innocent lamb? I have loved this man! + +CHARLES. This is more than a man can endure. Have I not heard death +hissing at me from more thousands of barrels, and never yet moved a +hair's breadth out of its way. And shall I now be taught to tremble +like a woman? tremble before a woman! No! a woman shall not conquer my +manly courage! Blood! blood! 'tis but a fit of womanish feeling. I +must glut myself with blood; and this will pass away. (He is about to +fly.) + +AMELIA (sinking into his arms). Murderer! devil! I cannot--angel-- +leave thee! + +CHARLES (thrusting her from him). Away! insidious serpent! Thou +wouldst make a mockery of my frenzy; but I will bid defiance to my +tyrant destiny. What! art thou weeping? O ye relentless, malicious +stars! She pretends to weep, as if any soul could weep for me! +(AMELIA falls on his neck.) Ha! what means this? She shuns me not--she +spurns me not. Amelia! hast thou then forgotten? Dost thou remember +whom thou art embracing, Amelia? + +AMELIA. My only one, mine, mine forever! + +CHARLES (recovering himself in an ecstasy of joy). She forgives me, she +loves me! Then am I pure as the ether of heaven, for she loves me! +With tears I thank thee, all-merciful Father! (He falls on his knees, +and bursts into a violent fit of weeping.) The peace of my soul is +restored; my sufferings are at an end. Hell is no more! Behold! oh +behold! the child of light weeps on the neck of a repentant demon! +(Rising and turning to the ROBBERS). Why are ye not weeping also? +Weep, weep, ye are all so happy. O Amelia! Amelia! Amelia! (He hangs +on her neck, they remain locked in a silent embrace.) + +A ROBBER (stepping forward enraged). Hold, traitor! This instant come +from her arms! or I will speak a word that shall make thy ears tingle, +and thy teeth chatter with horror! (He holds his sword between them.) + +AN AGED ROBBER. Remember the Bohemian forests! Dost thou hear? dost +thou tremble? Remember the Bohemian forests, I tell thee! Faithless +man! where are thy oaths? Are wounds so soon forgotten? Who staked +fortune, honor, life itself for thee? Who stood by thee like walls, and +like shields caught the blows which were aimed at thy life? Didst not +thou then lift up thy hand and swear an iron oath never to forsake us, +even as we forsook not thee? Base, perfidious wretch! and wouldst thou +now desert us at the whining of a harlot? + +A THIRD ROBBER. Shame on thy perjury! The spirit of the immolated +Roller, whom thou didst summon from the realms of death to attest thy +oath, will blush at thy cowardice, and rise from his grave full armed to +chastise thee. + +THE ROBBERS (all in disorder, tearing open their garments). See here! +and here! Dost thou know these scars? Thou art ours! With our heart's +blood we have bought thee, and thou art ours bodily, even though the +Archangel Michael should seek to wrest thee out of the grasp of the +fiery Moloch! Now! March with us! Sacrifice for sacrifice, Amelia for +the band! + +CHARLES (releasing her hand). It is past! I would arise and return to +my father; but heaven has said, "It shall not be!" (Coldly.) Blind fool +that I was! why should I wish it? Is it possible for a great sinner to +return? A great sinner never can return. That ought I long since to +have known. Be still! I pray thee be still! 'Tis all as it should be. +When He sought me I would not; now that I seek him, He will not. What +can be more just? Do not roll about thine eyes so wildly. He--has no +need of me. Has He not creatures in abundance? One he can easily +spare, and that one am I. Come along, comrades! + +AMELIA (pulling him back). Stay, I beseech you! One blow! one deadly +blow! Again forsaken! Draw thy sword, and have mercy upon me! + +CHARLES. Mercy has taken refuge among bears. I will not kill thee! + +AMELIA (embracing his knees). Oh, for heaven's sake! by all that is +merciful! I ask no longer for love. I know that our stars fly from +each other in opposition. Death is all I ask. Forsaken, forsaken! +Take that word in all its dreadful import! Forsaken! I cannot survive +it! Thou knowest well that no woman can survive that. All I ask is +death. See, my hand trembles! I have not courage to strike the blow. +I shrink from the gleaming blade! To thee it is so easy, so very easy; +thou art a master in murder--draw thy sword, and make me happy! + +CHARLES. Wouldst thou alone be happy? Away with thee! I will kill no +woman! + +AMELIA. Ha! destroyer! thou canst only kill the happy; they who are +weary of existence thou sparest! (She glides towards the robbers.) Then +do ye have mercy on me, disciples of murder! There lurks a bloodthirsty +pity in your looks that is consoling to the wretched. Your master is a +boaster and a coward. + +CHARLES. Woman, what dost thou say? (The ROBBERS turn away.) + +AMELIA. No friend? No; not even among these a friend? (She rises.) +Well, then, let Dido teach me how to die! (She is going; a ROBBER takes +aim at her.) + +CHARLES. Hold! dare it! Moor's Amelia shall die by no other hand than +Moor's. (He strikes her dead.) + +THE ROBBERS. Captain! captain! what hast thou done? Art thou raving? + +CHARLES (with his eyes fixed on the body). One more pang and all will +be over. She is immolated! Now, look on! have you any farther demand? +Ye staked a life for me, a life which has ceased to be your own--a life +full of infamy and shame! I have sacrificed an angel for you. Now! +look upon her! Are you content? + +GRIMM. You have repaid your debt with usury. You have done all that man +could do for his honor, and more. Now let's away. + +CHARLES. What say you? Is not the life of a saint for the life of a +felon more than an equal exchange? Oh! I say unto you if every one of +you were to--mount the scaffold, and to have his flesh torn from his +bones piecemeal with red-hot pincers, through eleven long summer days of +torture, yet would it not counterbalance these tears! (With a bitter +laugh.) The scars! the Bohemian forests! Yes, yes! they must be +repaid, of course! + +SCHWARZ. Compose yourself, captain! Come along with us! this is no +sight for you. Lead us elsewhere! + +CHARLES. Stay! one word more before we proceed elsewhere. Mark me, ye +malicious executioners of my barbarous nod! from this moment I cease to +be your captain.* + + *[The acting edition reads,--"Banditti! we are quits. This + bleeding corpse cancels my bond to you forever. From your own I + set you free." ROBBERS. "We are again your slaves till death!" + CHARLES. "No, no, no! We have done with each other. My genius + whispers me, 'Go no further, Moor. Here is the goal of humanity-- + and thine!' Take back this bloody plume (throws it at their feet). + Let him who seeks to be your captain take it up."] + +With shame and horror I here lay down the bloody staff, under which you +thought yourselves licensed to perpetrate your crimes and to defile the +fair light of heaven with deeds of darkness. Depart to the right and to +the left. We shall never more have aught in common. + +THE ROBBERS. Ha! coward! where are thy lofty schemes? were they but +soap-bubbles, which disperse at the breath of a woman?* + + + *[In lieu of this soliloquy and what follows, to the end, the + acting edition has:-- + + R. MOOR. Dare not to scrutinize the acts of Moor. That is my last + command. Now, draw near--form a circle around me, and receive the + last words of your dying captain. (He surveys them attentively for + some time.) You have been devotedly faithful to me, faithful + beyond example. Had virtue bound you together as firmly as vice, + you would have been heroes, and your names recorded by mankind with + admiration. Go and offer your services to the state. Dedicate + your talents to the cause of a monarch who is waging war in + vindication of the rights of man. With this blessing I disband + you. Schweitzer and Kosinsky, do you stay. (The others disperse + slowly, with signs of emotion.)] + + + + SCENE VIII. + + + + R. MOOR, SCRWETTZER, and KOSINSKY. + + R. MOOR. Give me thy right hand, Kosinsky--Schweitzer thy left. + (He takes their hands, and stands between, them; to KOSINSKY,) + Young man, thou art still pure-amongst the guilty thou alone art + guiltless! (To SCHWEITZER.) Deeply have I imbrued thy hand in + blood. 'Tis I who have done this. With this cordial grasp I take + back mine own. Schweitzer! thou art purified! (He raises their + hands fervently to heaven.) Father in heaven! here I restore them + to thee. They will be more devoted to thy service than those who + never fell. Of that I feel assured. (SCHWEITZER and KOSINSKY fall + on his neck with fervor.) Not now--not now, dear comrades. Spare + my feelings in this trying hour. An earldom has this day fallen to + my lot--a rich domain on which no malediction rests. Share it + between you, my children; become good citizens; and if for ten + human beings that I have destroyed you make but one happy, my soul + may yet be saved. Go--no farewell! In another world we may meet + again--or perhaps no more. Away! away! ere my fortitude desert me. + [Exeunt both, with downcast countenances.] + + + SCENE IX. + + And I, too, am a good citizen. Do I not fulfil the extremity of + the law? Do I not honor the law? Do I not uphold and defend it? + I remember speaking to a poor officer on my way hither, who was + toiling as a day-laborer, and has eleven living children. A + thousand ducats have been offered to whoever shall deliver up the + great robber alive. That man shall be served. [Exit.] + + +CHARLES. Oh! fool that I was, to fancy that I could amend the world by +misdeeds and maintain law by lawlessness! I called it vengeance and +equity. I presumed, O Providence! upon whetting out the notches of thy +sword and repairing thy partialities. But, oh, vain trifling! here I +stand on the brink of a fearful life, and learn, with wailing and +gnashing of teeth, that two men like myself could ruin the whole edifice +of the moral world. Pardon--pardon the boy who thought to forestall +Thee; to Thee alone belongeth vengeance; Thou needest not the hand of +man! But it is not in my power to recall the past; that which is ruined +remains ruined; what I have thrown down will never more rise up again. +Yet one thing is left me whereby I may atone to the offended majesty of +the law and restore the order which I have violated. A victim is +required--a victim to declare before all mankind how inviolable that +majesty is--that victim shall be myself. I will be the death-offering! + +ROBBERS. Take his sword from him--he will kill himself. + +CHARLES. Fools that ye are! doomed to eternal blindness! Think ye +that one mortal sin will expiate other mortal sins? Do you suppose that +the harmony of the world would be promoted by such an impious discord? +(Throwing his arms at their feet.) He shall have me alive. I go to +deliver myself into the hands of justice. + +ROBBERS. Put him in chains! he has lost his senses! + +CHARLES. Not that I have any doubt but that justice would find me +speedily enough if the powers above so ordained it. But she might +surprise me in sleep, or overtake me in flight, or seize me with +violence and the sword, and then I should have lost the only merit left +me, that of making my death a free-will atonement. Why should I, like a +thief, any longer conceal a life, which in the counsels of the heavenly +ministry has long been forfeited? + +ROBBERS. Let him go. He is infected with the great-man-mania; he means +to offer up his life for empty admiration. + +CHARLES. I might, 'tis true, be admired for it. (After a moment's +reflection.) I remember, on my way hither, talking to a poor creature, +a day-laborer, with eleven living children. A reward has been offered +of a thousand louis-d'ors to any one who shall deliver up the great +robber alive. That man shall be served. + [Exit.] + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROBBERS, BY SCHILLER *** + +****** This file should be named fs22w10.txt or fs22w10.zip ******* + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, fs22w11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, fs22w10a.txt + +This eBook was produced by David Widger, widger@cecomet.net + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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