Aught that can touch you. No one knows you here As heir of Siegendorf: if Idenstein Suspects, 'tis but suspicion, and he is
A fool: his folly shall have such employment, Too, that the unknown Werner shall give way To nearer thoughts of self. The laws (if c'er Laws reach'd this village) are all in abeyance With the late general war of thirty years, Or crush'd, or rising slowly from the dust, To which the march of armies trampled them. Stralenheim, although noble, is unheeded Here, save as such—without lands, influence, Save what hath perish'd with him. Few prolong A week beyond their funeral rites their sway O'er men, unless by relatives, whose interest Is roused such is not here the case; he died Alone, unknown, -a solitary grave, Obscure as his deserts, without a scutcheon, Is all he'll have, or wants. If I discover The assassin, 't will be well-if not, believe me None else; though all the full-fed train of menials May howl above his ashes (as they did Around him in his danger on the Oder), Will no more stir a finger now than then.
Hence! hence! I must not hear your answer. —
The stars are almost faded, and the grey Begins to grizzle the black hair of night. You shall not answer: -Pardon me that I Am peremptory; 't is your son that speaks, Your long-lost, late-found son.-Let's call my mo-
Softly and swiftly step, and leave the rest To me: I'll answer for the event as far As regards you, and that is the chief point, As my first duty, which shall be observed. We'll meet in Castle Siegendorf-once more Our banners shall be glorious! Think of that Alone, and leave all other thoughts to me, Whose youth may better battle with them. Hence ! And may your age be happy!--I will kiss
My mother once more, then Heaven's speed be with you!
Wer. This counsel's safe-but is it honourable ? Ulr. To save a father is a child's chief honour.
Count Ulric for a well-supported pride, Which awes, but yet offends not? in the field, Who like him with his spear in hand, when, gnashing His tusks, and ripping up from right to left The howling hounds, the boar makes for the thicket? Who backs a horse, or bears a hawk, or wears A sword like him? Whose plume nods knightlier? Hen. No one's, I grant you. Do not fear, if war Be long in coming, he is of that kind Will make it for himself, if he hath not Already done as much.
What do you mean? Hen. You can't deny his train of followers
(But few our native fellow vassals born
Eric. I will, upon what you have said. Hen. I assure you I meant nothing,—a mere sport Of words, no more; besides, had it been otherwise, He is to espouse the gentle Baroness,
Ida of Stralenheim, the late baron's heiress; And she, no doubt, will soften whatsoever Of fierceness the late long intestine wars Have given all natures, and most unto those Who were born in them, and bred up upon The knees of Homicide; sprinkled, as it were, With blood even at their baptism. Prithee, peace On all that I have said!
I had forgotten. -let it be the grey, then, Old Ziska he has not been out this fortnight. Eric. He shall be straight caparison'd. How many Of your immediate retainers shall Escort you?
Ulr. I leave that to Weilburg, our Master of the horse.
Is awkward from the-(RODOLPH points to HENRICK.)
For your commands, my lord. Ur. Go to my father, and present my duty, And learn if he would aught with me before
We will not speak of that until We can repeat the same with like success: And when you have join'd, give Rosenberg this letter. [Gives a letter. Add further, that I have sent this slight addition To our force with you and Wolffe, as herald of My coming, though I could but spare them ill At this time, as my father loves to keep Full numbers of retainers round the castle, Until this marriage, and its feasts and fooleries, Are rung out with its peal of nuptial nonsense. Rod. I thought you loved the lady Ida? Ulr.
I do so- but it follows not from that
I would bind in my youth and glorious years, So brief and burning, with a lady's zone, Although 't were that of Venus; but I love her, As woman should be loved, fairly and solely. Rod. And constantly? Ulr.
Nought else. But I have not the time to pause Upon these gewgaws of the heart. Great things We have to do ere long. Speed! speed! good Rodolph! Rod. On my return, however, I shall find The Baroness Ida lost in Countess Siegendorf? Ulr. Perhaps my father wishes it; and sooth "T is no bad policy: this union with The last bud of the rival branch at once Unites the future and destroys the past. Rod. Adieu.
Ulr. Yet hold-we had better keep together Until the chase begins; then draw thou off, And do as I have said.
About his death-and even the place of it
Some obscure village on The Saxon or Silesian frontier. Rod.
Has left no testament-no farewell words? Ulr. I am neither confessor nor notary, So cannot say. Rod.
Enter IDA STRALENHEIM. I Ulr. You are early, my sweet cousin! Ida.
Dear Ulric, if I do not interrupt you. Why do you call me "cousin ?" Ülr. (smiling).
Are we not so ? Ida. Yes, but I do not like the name; methinks It sounds so cold, as if you thought upon Our pedigree, and only weigh'd our blood. Ulr. (starting.)
Ida. Why does yours start from your cheeks? Ulr. Ay ! doth it? Ida. It doth-but no! it rushes like a torrent Even to your brow again.
Ulr. (recovering himself). And if it fled, It only was because your presence sent it
Back to my heart, which beats for you, sweet cousin! Ida. "Cousin" again.
Dear Ulric, how I wish My father could but view my happiness, Which wants but this!
You would have loved him,
He you; for the brave ever love each other: His manner was a little cold, his spirit Proud (as is birth's prerogative); but under [other! This grave exterior- Would you had known cach Had such as you been near him on his journey, He had not died without a friend to soothe His last and lonely moments.
Ida. Indeed I do not: ask of Rodolph. Rod.
My lord, within this quarter of an hour
You have changed more than e'er I saw you change In years.
Ulr. 'Tis nothing; but if 't were, the air Would soon restore me. I'm the true chameleon, And live but on the atmosphere; your feasts In castle halls, and social banquets, nurse not My spirit-I'm a forester and breather Of the steep mountain-tops, where I love all The eagle loves.
It were not well that you alone of all Our young nobility.
In aspect and demeanour. Sieg. (to IDA).
Though somewhat frankly said for a fair damsel. But, Ulric, recollect too our position,
So lately reinstated in our honours.
Believe me, 't would be mark'd in any house, But most in ours, that ONE should be found wanting At such a time and place. Besides, the Heaven Which gave us back our own, in the same moment It spread its peace o'er all, hath double claims On us for thanksgiving: first, for our country; And next, that we are here to share its blessings. Ulr. (aside). Devout, too! Well, sir, I obey at once. (Then aloud to a Servant.) Ludwig, dismiss the train without! [Exit LUDWIG. Ida. And so
You yield at once to him what I for hours Might supplicate in vain.
Of me, I trust, my pretty rebel! who Would sanction disobedience against all Except thyself? But fear not; thou shalt rule him Hereafter with a fonder sway and firmer.
Ida. But I should like to govern now. Sieg. Your harp, which by the way awaits you with The countess in her chamber. She complains That you are a sad truant to your music: She attends you.
Not that monster's! I should think My harp-strings rang with groans, and not with music, Could aught of his sound on it: but come quickly; Your mother will be eager to receive you. Sieg. Ulric, I wish to speak with you alone. Ulr. My time's your vassal. (Aside to RODOLPH.)
Rodolph, hence! and do As I directed and by his best speed And readiest means let Rosenberg reply.
In a like absence ? But 't is vain to urge you - Nature was never call'd back by remonstrance. Let's change the theme. I wish you to consider That these young violent nobles of high name, But dark deeds (ay, the darkest, if all Rumour Reports be true), with whom thou consortest, Will lead thee.
Ulr. (impatiently). I'll be led by no man. Sieg.
Be leader of such, I would hope at once To wean thee from the perils of thy youth And haughty spirit, I have thought it well That thou shouldst wed the lady Ida-more As thou appear'st to love her. Ulr.
I will obey your orders, were they to Unite with Hecate-can a son say more? Sieg. He says too much in saying this. The nature of thine age, nor of thy blood, Nor of thy temperament, to talk so coolly, Or act so carelessly, in that which is The bloom or blight of all men's happiness (For Glory's pillow is but restless if
Love lay not down his cheek there): some strong bias, Some master fiend is in thy service to Misrule the mortal who believes him slave, And makes his every thought subservient; else Thou 'dst say at once-"I love young Ida, and Will wed her:" or, "I love her not, and all The powers of earth shall never make me.' Would I have answer'd.
In a word, do you love, or love not, Ida? Ulr. What matters it, if I am ready to Obey you in espousing her?
you feel, nothing, but all life for her. She's young-all beautiful-adores you-is Endow'd with qualities to give happiness, Such as rounds common life into a dream Of something which your poets cannot paint, And (if it were not wisdom to love virtue) For which Philosophy might barter Wisdom; And giving so much happiness, deserves
A little in return. I would not have her Break her heart for a man who has none to break; Or wither on her stalk like some pale rose Deserted by the bird she thought a nightingale, According to the Orient tale. She is
Ulr. The daughter of dead Stralenheim, your fot: I'll wed her, ne'ertheless; though, to say truth, Just now I am not violently transported
In favour of such unions.
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