Count, 't is a marriage of your making
So be it of your wooing; but to please you
I will now pay my duty to my mother,
With whom, you know, the lady Ida is. —
What would you have? You have forbid my stirring
For manly sports beyond the castle walls,
And I obey; you bid me turn a chamberer,
To pick up gloves, and fans, and knitting needles,
And list to songs and tunes, and watch for smiles,
And smile at pretty prattle, and look into
The eyes of feminine, as though they were
The stars receding early to our wish
Upon the dawn of a world-winning battle —
What can a son or man do more?
Too much of duty, and too little love!
He pays me in the coin he owes me not:
For such hath been my wayward fate, I could not
Fulfil a parent's duties by his side
Till now; but love he owes me, for my thoughts
Ne'er left him, nor my eyes long'd without tears
To see my child again, and now I have found him!
But how!-obedient, but with coldness; duteous
In my sight, but with carelessness; mysterious-
Abstracted-distant-much given to long absence,
And where-none know-in league with the most
riotous
Of our young nobles; though, to do him justice,
He never stoops down to their vulgar pleasures;
Yet there's some tie between them which I cannot
Unravel. They look up to him-consult him.
Throng round him as a leader: but with me
He hath no confidence! Ah! can I hope it
After-what! doth my father's curse descend
Even to my child? Or is the Hungarian near
To shed more blood? or-Oh! if it should be!
Spirit of Stralenheim, dost thou walk these walls
To wither him and his—who, though they slew not
Unlatch'd the door of death for thee? 'T was not
Our fault, nor is our sin thou wert our foe,
And yet I spared thee when my own destruction
Slept with thee, to awake with thine awakening !
And only took-Accursed gold! thou liest
Like poison in my hands; I dare not use thee,
Nor part from thee; thou camest in such a guise,
Methinks thou wouldst contaminate all hands
Like mine. Yet I have done, to atone for thee,
Thou villainous gold! and thy dead master's doom,
Peace be with these walls, and all
And may thy prayer be heard!—all men have need Of such, and I
Have the first claim to all
The prayers of our community. Our convent,
Erected by your ancestors, is still
Protected by their children.
In these dim days of heresies and blood,
Though the schismatic Swede, Gustavus, is
Gone home.
Prior. To the endless home of unbelievers,
Where there is everlasting wail and woe,
Gnashing of teeth, and tears of blood, and fire
Eternal, and the worm which dieth not!
Sieg. True, father: and to avert those pangs from Who, though of our most faultless holy church, Yet died without its last and dearest offices, Which smooth the soul through purgatorial pains, I have to offer humbly this donation In masses for his spirit.
[SIEGENDORF offers the gold which he had taken
from STRALENHEIM.
Prior.
Count, if I
Receive it, 't is because I know too well
Refusal would offend you. Be assured
The largess shall be only dealt in alms,
And every mass no less sung for the dead.
Our house needs no donations, thanks to yours,
Which has of old endow'd it; but from you
And yours in all meet things 't is fit we obey.
For whom shall mass be said?
I could only guess at one,
And he to me a stranger, unconnected,
As unemploy'd. Except by one day's knowledge,
never saw the man who was suspected.
Prior. Then you are free from guilt.
Sieg. (eagerly).
Oh! am I?-say!
Prior. You have said so, and know best.
Sieg.
Father! I have spoken
The truth, and nought but truth, if not the whole :
Yet say I am not guilty! for the blood
Of this man weighs on me, as if I shed it,
Though, by the Power who abhorreth human blood,
I did not!- nay, once spared it, when I might
And could-ay, perhaps, should (if our self-safety
Be e'er excusable in such defences
Against the attacks of over-potent foes):
But pray for him, for me, and all my house;
For, as I said, though I be innocent,
I know not why, a like remorse is on me,
As if he had fallen by me or mine.
Father! I have pray'd myself in vain.
Prior.
I will. You are innocent, and should Be calm as innocence.
A cloud upon your thoughts. This were to be Too sensitive. Take comfort, and forget
Such things, and leave remorse unto the guilty. [Exeunt.
A large and magnificent Gothic Hall in the Castle of Sicgendorf, decorated with Trophies, Banners, and Arms of that Family.
Enter ARNHEIM and MEISTER, attendants of COUNT SIEGENDORF.
Arn. Be quick! the count will soon return: the
Already are at the portal. Have you sent [ladics
The messengers in search of him he seeks for?
Meis. I have, in all directions, over Prague,
As far as the man's dress and figure could
By your description track him. The devil take
These revels and processions ! All the pleasure
(If such there be) must fall to the spectators.
I'm sure none doth to us who make the show.
Arn. Go to my lady countess comes.
Meis.
Ride a day's hunting on an outworn jade,
Than follow in the train of a great man
In these dull pageantries.
Enter the COUNTESS JOSEPHINE SIEGENDORF and
Well, Heaven be praised, the show is over! Ida. How can you say so! never have I dreamt Of aught so beautiful. The flowers, the boughs, The banners, and the nobles, and the knights, The gems, the robes, the plumes, the happy faces, The coursers, and the incense, and the sun Streaming through the stain'd windows, even the tombs, Which look'd so calm, and the celestial hymns, Which seem'd as if they rather came from heaven Than mounted there. The bursting organ's peal Rolling on high like an harmonious thunder; The white robes and the lifted eyes; the world At peace! and all at peace with one another! Oh, my sweet mother!
[Embracing Josephine. My beloved child! For such, I trust, thou shalt be shortly.
When the mind gathers up its truth within it.
Remember the great festival to-morrow,
In which you rank amidst our chiefest nobles,
As well as your brave son; and smooth your aspect; Nor in the general orison of thanks
For bloodshed stopt, let blood you shed not rise
Let us retire; they will be here anon
Expectant of the banquet. We will lay
Aside these nodding plumes and dragging trains.
Ida. And, above all, these stiff and heavy jewels,
Which make my head and heart ache, as both throb
Beneath their glitter o'er my brow and zone.
Dear mother, I am with you.
Enter COUNT SIEGENDORF, in full dress, from the
solemnity, and LUDWIG.
My destinies were woven in that name:
It will be not engraved upon my tomb,
But it may lead me there.
Ulr.
To the point-the Hungarian?
Sieg. Listen!-The church was throng'd; the
hymn was raised;
"Te Deum" peal'd from nations, rather than
From choirs, in one great cry of "God be praised"
For one day's peace, after thrice ten dread years,
Each bloodier than the former: I arose,
With all the nobles, and as I look'd down
Along the lines of lifted faces,- from
Our banner'd and escutcheon'd gallery, I
Saw, like a flash of lightning (for I saw
A moment and no more), what struck me sightless
To all else the Hungarian's face! I grew
Sick; and when I recover'd from the mist
Which curl'd about my senses, and again
Look'd down, I saw him not. The thanksgiving
Was over, and we march'd back in procession.
Ulr. Continue.
When we reach'd the Muldau's bridge,
The joyous crowd above, the numberless
Barks mann'd with revellers in their best garbs,
Which shot along the glancing tide below,
The decorated street, the long array,
The clashing music, and the thundering
Of far artillery, which seem'd to bid
A long and loud farewell to its great doings,
The standards o'er me, and the tramplings round,
The roar of rushing thousands,-all-all could not
Chase this man from my mind, although my senses
No longer held him palpable.
I look'd, as a dying soldier
Looks at a draught of water, for this man:
But still I saw him not; but in his stead
Ulr. What in his stead?
Sieg.
My eye for ever fell
Upon your dancing crest; the loftiest
Lud. Strict search is making every where; and if As on the loftiest and the loveliest head
The man be in Prague, be sure he will be found.
Sieg. Where's Ulric?
Lud.
He rode round the other way
With some young nobles; but he left them soon;
And, if I err not, not a minute since
I heard his excellency, with his train,
Gallop o'er the west drawbridge.
Enter ULRIC, splendidly dressed.
Their quest of him I have described. [Exit LUDWIG.
How have I long'd for thee!
I have seen the murderer.
HIM! I turn'd-and saw-and fell.
Ulr. And wherefore? Were you seen?
Sieg.
The officious care
Of those around me dragg'd me from the spot,
Seeing my faintness, ignorant of the cause:
You, too, were too remote in the procession
Sieg. The Hungarian, who slew Stralenheim. (The old nobles being divided from their children)
Sieg. Liar and fiend! but you shall not be slain; These walls are mine, and you are safe within them. [He turns to ULRIC.
Ulric, repel this calumny, as I
Will do. I avow it is a growth so monstrous,
I could not deem it earth-born: but be calmn;
It will refute itself. But touch him not.
[ULRIC endeavours to compose himself.
Gab. Look at him, count, and then hear me.
Sieg. (first to GABOR, and then looking at ULRIC).
I hear thee.
Sieg. (haughtily). The same you knew, sir, by that name; and you!
Gab. (looking round). I recognise you both: father and son,
It seems.
Count, I have heard that you, or yours,
Have lately been in search of me: I am here.
Sieg. I have sought you, and have found you: you are charged
(Your own heart may inform you why) with such A crime as [He pauses. Give it utterance, and then I'll meet the consequences. You shall do so
When we met in the garden.
Ulr. (composes himself).
Gab. Count, you are bound to hear me. I came
By Stralenheim's death? Was 't I-as poor as ever;
And poorer by suspicion on my name !
The baron lost in that last outrage neither
Jewels nor gold; his life alone was sought, -
A life which stood between the claims of others
To honours and estates scarce less than princely.
Sieg. These hints, as vague as vain, attach no less
To me than to my son.
Gab.
I can't help that.
But let the consequence alight on him
Who feels himself the guilty one among us.
I speak of you, Count Siegendorf, because
I know you innocent, and deem you just.
But ere I can proceed-dare you protect me?
Dare you command me?
[SIEGENDORF first looks at the Hungarian, and
then at ULRIC, who has unbuckled his sabre,
and is drawing lines with it on the floor-
still in its sheath.
Ulr. (looks at his father and says)
Let the man go on! Gab. I am unarm'd, count—bid your son lay down His sabre.
Ulr. (offers it to him contemptuously).
That we are both unarm'd-I would not choose
To wear a steel which may be stain'd with more
Blood than came there in battle.
Ulr. (casts the sabre from him in contempt).
It-
-or some
Such other weapon, in my hands-spared yours
Once when disarm'd and at my mercy.
Gab.
True-
I have not forgotten it: you spared me for
Your own especial purpose-
An ignominy not my own.
I will not detain you
By speaking of myself much I began
Life early and am what the world has made me.
At Frankfort on the Oder, where I pass'd
A winter in obscurity, it was
My chance at several places of resort
(Which I frequented sometimes, but not often)
To hear related a strange circumstance
In February last. A martial force,
Sent by the state, had, after strong resistance,
Secured a band of desperate men, supposed
Marauders from the hostile camp. They proved,
However, not to be so-but banditti,
Whom either accident or enterprise
Had carried from their usual haunt- the forests
Which skirt Bohemia-even into Lusatia.
Many amongst them were reported of
High rank-and martial law slept for a time.
At last they were escorted o'er the frontiers,
And placed beneath the civil jurisdiction
Of the free town of Frankfort.
And what is this to Ulric?
A popular affray in the public square
Drew crowds together—it was one of those
Occasions where men's souls look out of them,
And show them as they are-even in their faces :
The moment my eye met his, I exclaim'd,
"This is the man!" though he was then, as since,
With the nobles of the city. I felt sure
I had not err'd, and watch'd him long and nearly;
I noted down his form-his gesture-features,
Stature, and bearing—and amidst them all,
Midst every natural and acquired distinction,
I could discern, methought, the assassin's eye
And gladiator's heart.
Though not his friendship:- -it was his intention
To leave the city privately-we left it
Together, and together we arrived
In the poor town where Werner was conceal'd,
And Stralenheim was succour'd Now we are on
Or I have heard too much.
A man above his station—and if not
So high, as now I find you, in my then
Conceptions, 't was that I had rarely seen
Men such as you appear'd in height of mind
In the most high of worldly rank; you were
Poor, even to all save rags: I would have shared
My purse, though slender, with you—you refused it.
Sieg. Doth my refusal make a debt to you,
That thus you urge it?
Gab.
Still you owe me something,
Though not for that; and I owed you my safety,
At least my seeming safety, when the slaves
Of Stralenheim pursued me on the grounds
That I had robb'd him.
Sieg. I conceal'd you—I, Whom and whose house you arraign, reviving viper! Gab. I accuse no man-save in my defence. You, count, have made yourself accuser-judge: Your hall's my court, your heart is my tribunal. Be just, and I'll be merciful!
With me at last to be so.
In secret passages known to yourself, You said, and to none else.
Weary with watching in the dark, and dubious
Of tracing back my way, I saw a glimmer,
Through distant crannies, of a twinkling light:
I follow'd it, and reach'd a door-a secret
Portal which open'd to the chamber, where,
With cautious hand and slow, having first undone
As much as made a crevice of the fastening,
I look'd through and beheld a purple bed,
And on it Stralenheim!.
You slew him!-Wretch !
Gab.
And bleeding like a sacrifice.
Blood became ice.
He was already slain, My own
But he was all alone!
You did not see the
[He pauses from agitation.
He, whom you dare not name, nor even I
Scarce dare to recollect, was not then in
The chamber.
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