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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12060-0.txt b/12060-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4040c26 --- /dev/null +++ b/12060-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,20298 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12060 *** + +#THE GERMAN CLASSICS# + + + + +Masterpieces of German Literature + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH + + + + +IN TWENTY VOLUMES + + + + +ILLUSTRATED + +1914 + + + +VOLUME IV + + * * * * * + + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME IV + + +JEAN PAUL + + The Life of Jean Paul. By Benjamin W. Wells. + + Quintus Fixlein's Wedding. Translated by Thomas Carlyle. + + Rome. Translated by C. T. Brooks. + + The Opening of the Will. Translated by Frances H. King. + +WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT + + Schiller and the Process of His Intellectual Development. Translated + by Frances H. King. + + The Early Romantic School. By James Taft Hatfield. + +AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL + + Lectures on Dramatic Art. Translated by John Black. + +FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + + Introduction to Lucinda. By Calvin Thomas. + + Lucinda. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + Aphorisms. Translated by Louis H. Gray. + +NOVALIS (FRIEDRICH VON HARDENBERG) + + The Story of Hyacinth and Roseblossom. Translated by Lillie Winter. + + Aphorisms. Translated by Frederic H. Hedge. + + Hymn to Night. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + Though None Thy Name Should Cherish. Translated by Charles Wharton + Stork. + + To the Virgin. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + +FRIEDRICH HÖLDERLIN + + Hyperion's Song of Fate. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + + Evening Phantasie. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + +LUDWIG TIECK + + Puss in Boots. Translated by Lillie Winter. + + Fair Eckbert. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + The Elves. Translated by Frederic H. Hedge. + +HEINRICH VON KLEIST + + The Life of Heinrich von Kleist. By John S. Nollen. + + Michael Kohlhaas. Translated by Frances H. King. + + The Prince of Homburg. Translated by Hermann Hagedorn. + + +ILLUSTRATIONS--VOLUME IV + + Lonely Ride. By Hans Thoma. + + Jean Paul. By E. Hader. + + Bridal Procession. By Ludwig Richter. + + Wilhelm von Humboldt. By Franz Krüger. + + The University of Berlin. + + A Hermit watering Horses. By Moritz von Schwind. + + A Wanderer looks into a Landscape. By Moritz von Schwind. + + The Chapel in the Forest. By Moritz von Schwind. + + August Wilhelm Schlegel. + + Caroline Schlegel. + + Friedrich Schlegel. By E. Hader. + + The Creation. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Novalis. By Eduard Eichens. + + The Queen of Night. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Friedrich Hölderlin. By E. Hader. + + Ludwig Tieck. By Vogel von Vogelstein. + + Puss in Boots. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Dance of the Elves. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Heinrich von Kleist. + + Sarcophagus of Queen Louise in the Mausoleum at Charlottenburg. By + Christian Rauch. + + The Royal Castle at Berlin. + + Statue of the Great Elector. By Andreas Schlüter. + + + + +EDITOR'S NOTE + +From this volume on, an attempt will be made to bring out, in the +illustrations, certain broad tendencies of German painting in the +nineteenth century, parallel to the literary development here +represented. There will be few direct illustrations of the subject +matter of the text. Instead, each volume will be dominated, as far as +possible, by a master, or a group of masters, whose works offer an +artistic analogy to the character and spirit of the works of literature +contained in it. Volumes IV and V, for instance, being devoted to German +Romantic literature of the early nineteenth century, will present at the +same time selections from the work of two of the foremost Romantic +painters of Germany: Moritz von Schwind and Ludwig Richter. It is hoped +that in this way THE GERMAN CLASSICS OF THE NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH +CENTURIES will shed a not unwelcome side-light upon the development of +modern German art. + +KUNO FRANCKE. + + + + +JEAN PAUL + + * * * * * + +THE LIFE OF JEAN PAUL + +By BENJAMIN W. WELLS, Ph.D. + +Author of _Modern German Literature_. + +"The Spring and I came into the world together," Jean Paul liked to +tell his friends when in later days of comfort and fame he looked back +on his early years. He was, in fact, born on the first day (March 21) +and at almost the first hour of the Spring of 1763 at Wunsiedel in the +Fichtelgebirge, the very heart of Germany. The boy was christened +Johann Paul Friedrich Richter. His parents called him Fritz. It was +not till 1793 that, with a thought of Jean Jacques Rousseau, he called +himself Jean Paul. + +Place and time are alike significant in his birth. Wunsiedel was a +typical German hill village; the ancestry, as far back as we can trace +it, was typically German, as untouched as Wunsiedel itself, by any +breath of cosmopolitan life. It meant much that the child who was in +later life to interpret most intimately the spirit of the German +people through the days of the French Revolution, of the Napoleonic +tyranny and of the War of Liberation, who was to be a bond between the +old literature and the new, beside, yet independent of, the men of +Weimar, should have such heredity and such environment. Richter's +grandfather had held worthily minor offices in the church, his father +had followed in his churchly steps with especial leaning to music; his +maternal grandfather was a well-to-do clothmaker in the near-by town +of Hof, his mother a long-suffering housewife. It was well that Fritz +brought sunshine with him into the world; for his temperament was his +sole patrimony and for many years his chief dependence. He was the +eldest of seven children. None, save he, passed unscathed through the +privations and trials of the growing household with its accumulating +burdens of debt. For Fritz these trials meant but the tempering of his +wit, the mellowing of his humor, the deepening of his sympathies. + +When Fritz was two years old the family moved to Joditz, another +village of the Fichtelgebirge. Of his boyhood here Jean Paul in his +last years set down some mellowed recollections. He tells how his +father, still in his dressing gown, used to take him and his brother +Adam across the Saale to dig potatoes and gather nuts, alternating in +the labor and the play; how his thrifty mother would send him with the +provision bag to her own mother's at Hof, who would give him goodies +that he would share with some little friend. He tells, too, of his +rapture at his first A B C book and its gilded cover, and of his +eagerness at school, until his too-anxious father took him from +contact with the rough peasant boys and tried to educate him himself, +an experience not without value, at least as a warning, to the future +author of _Levana_. But if the Richters were proud, they were very +poor. The boys used to count it a privilege to carry the father's +coffee-cup to him of a Sunday morning, as he sat by the window +meditating his sermon, for then they could carry it back again "and +pick the unmelted remains of sugar-candy from the bottom of it." +Simple pleasures surely, but, as Carlyle says, "there was a bold, +deep, joyful spirit looking through those young eyes, and to such a +spirit the world has nothing poor, but all is rich and full of +loveliness and wonder." + +Every book that the boy Fritz could anywise come at was, he tells us, +"a fresh green spring-place," where "rootlets, thirsty for knowledge +pressed and twisted in every direction to seize and absorb." Very +characteristic of the later Jean Paul is one incident of his childhood +which, he says, made him doubt whether he had not been born rather for +philosophy than for imaginative writing. He was witness to the birth +of his own self-consciousness. + +[Illustration: JEAN PAUL] + +"One forenoon," he writes, "I was standing, a very young child, by +the house door, looking to the left at the wood-pile, when, all at +once, like a lightning flash from heaven, the inner vision arose +before me: I am an _I_. It has remained ever since radiant. At that +moment my _I_ saw itself for the first time and forever." + +It is curious to contrast this childhood, in the almost cloistered +seclusion of the Fichtelgebirge, with Goethe's at cosmopolitan +Frankfurt or even with Schiller's at Marbach. Much that came unsought, +even to Schiller, Richter had a struggle to come by; much he could +never get at all. The place of "Frau Aja" in the development of the +child Goethe's fancy was taken at Joditz by the cow-girl. Eagerness to +learn Fritz showed in pathetic fulness, but the most diligent search +has revealed no trace in these years of that creative imagination with +which he was so richly dowered. + +When Fritz was thirteen his father received a long-hoped-for promotion +to Schwarzenbach, a market town near Hof, then counting some 1,500 +inhabitants. The boy's horizon was thus widened, though the family +fortunes were far from finding the expected relief. Here Fritz first +participated in the Communion and has left a remarkable record of his +emotional experience at "becoming a citizen in the city of God." About +the same time, as was to be expected, came the boy's earliest strong +emotional attachment. Katharina Bärin's first kiss was, for him, "a +unique pearl of a minute, such as never had been and never was to be." +But, as with the Communion, though the memory remained, the feeling +soon passed away. + +The father designed Fritz, evidently the most gifted of his sons, for +the church, and after some desultory attempts at instruction in +Schwarzenbach, sent him in 1779 to the high school at Hof. His +entrance examination was brilliant, a last consolation to the father, +who died, worn out with the anxieties of accumulating debt, a few +weeks later. From his fellow pupils the country lad suffered much till +his courage and endurance had compelled respect. His teachers were +conscientious but not competent. In the liberally minded Pastor Vogel +of near-by Rehau, however, he found a kindred spirit and a helpful +friend. In this clergyman's generously opened library the thirsty +student made his first acquaintance with the unorthodox thought of his +time, with Lessing and Lavater, Goethe and even Helvetius. When in +1781 he left Hof for the University of Leipzig the pastor took leave +of the youth with the prophetic words: "You will some time be able to +render me a greater service than I have rendered you. Remember this +prophecy." + +Under such stimulating encouragement Richter began to write. Some +little essays, two addresses, and a novel, a happy chance has +preserved. The novel is an echo of Goethe's _Werther_, the essays are +marked by a clear, straightforward style, an absence of sentimentality +or mysticism, and an eagerness for reform that shows the influence of +Lessing. Religion is the dominant interest, but the youth is no longer +orthodox, indeed he is only conditionally Christian. + +With such literary baggage, fortified with personal recommendations +and introductions from the Head Master at Hof, with a Certificate of +Maturity and a _testimonium paupertatis_ that might entitle him to +remission of fees and possibly free board, Richter went to Leipzig. +From the academic environment and its opportunities he got much, from +formal instruction little. He continued to be in the main self-taught +and extended his independence in manners and dress perhaps a little +beyond the verge of eccentricity. Meantime matters at home were going +rapidly from bad to worse. His grandfather had died; the inheritance +had been largely consumed in a law-suit. He could not look to his +mother for help and did not look to her for counsel. He suffered from +cold and stretched his credit for rent and food to the breaking point. +But the emptier his stomach the more his head abounded in plans "for +writing books to earn money to buy books." He devised a system of +spelling reform and could submit to his pastor friend at Rehau in 1782 +a little sheaf of essays on various aspects of Folly, the student +being now of an age when, like Iago, he was "nothing if not critical." +Later these papers seemed to him little better than school exercises, +but they gave a promise soon to be redeemed in _Greenland Law-Suits_, +his first volume to find a publisher. These satirical sketches, +printed early in 1783, were followed later in that year by another +series, but both had to wait 38 years for a second edition, much +mellowed in revision--not altogether to its profit. + +The point of the _Law-Suits_ is directed especially against +theologians and the nobility. Richter's uncompromising fierceness +suggests youthful hunger almost as much as study of Swift. But +Lessing, had he lived to read their stinging epigrams, would have +recognized in Richter the promise of a successor not unworthy to carry +the biting acid of the _Disowning Letter_ over to the hand of Heine. + +The _Law-Suits_ proved too bitter for the public taste and it was +seven years before their author found another publisher. Meanwhile +Richter was leading a precarious existence, writing for magazines at +starvation prices, and persevering in an indefatigable search for some +one to undertake his next book, _Selections from the Papers of the +Devil_. A love affair with the daughter of a minor official which she, +at least, took seriously, interrupted his studies at Leipzig even +before the insistence of creditors compelled him to a clandestine +flight. This was in 1784. Then he shared for a time his mother's +poverty at Hof and from 1786 to 1789 was tutor in the house of +Oerthel, a parvenu Commercial-Counsellor in Töpen. This experience he +was to turn to good account in _Levana_ and in his first novel, _The +Invisible Lodge_, in which the unsympathetic figure of Röper is +undoubtedly meant to present the not very gracious personality of the +Kommerzienrat. + +To this period belongs a collection of _Aphorisms_ whose bright wit +reveals deep reflection. They show a maturing mind, keen insight, +livelier and wider sympathies. The _Devil's Papers_, published in +1789, when Richter, after a few months at Hof, was about to become +tutor to the children of three friendly families in Schwarzenbach, +confirm the impression of progress. In his new field Richter had great +freedom to develop his ideas of education as distinct from +inculcation. Rousseau was in the main his guide, and his success in +stimulating childish initiative through varied and ingenious +pedagogical experiments seems to have been really remarkable. + +Quite as remarkable and much more disquieting were the ideas about +friendship and love which Richter now began to develop under the +stimulating influence of a group of young ladies at Hof. In a note +book of this time he writes: "Prize question for the Erotic Academy: +How far may friendship toward women go and what is the difference +between it and love?" That Richter called this circle his "erotic +academy" is significant. He was ever, in such relations, as alert to +observe as he was keen to sympathize and permitted himself an +astonishing variety of quickly changing and even simultaneous +experiments, both at Hof and later in the aristocratic circles that +were presently to open to him. In his theory, which finds fullest +expression in _Hesperus_, love was to be wholly platonic. If the first +kiss did not end it, the second surely would. "I do not seek," he +says, "the fairest face but the fairest heart. I can overlook all +spots on that, but none on this." "He does not love who _sees_ his +beloved, but he who _thinks_ her." That is the theory. The practice +was a little different. It shows Richter at Hof exchanging fine-spun +sentiments on God, immortality and soul-affinity with some half dozen +young women to the perturbation of their spirits, in a transcendental +atmosphere of sentiment, arousing but never fulfilling the expectation +of a formal betrothal. That Jean Paul was capable of inspiring love of +the common sort is abundantly attested by his correspondence. Perhaps +no man ever had so many women of education and social position "throw +themselves" at him; but that he was capable of returning such love in +kind does not appear from acts or letters at this time, or, save +perhaps for the first years of his married life, at any later period. + +The immediate effect of the bright hours at Hof on Richter as a writer +was wholly beneficent. _Mr. Florian Fülbel's Journey_ and _Bailiff +Josuah Freudel's Complaint Bible_ show a new geniality in the +personification of amusing foibles. And with these was a real little +masterpiece, _Life of the Contented Schoolmaster Maria Wuz_, which +alone, said the Berlin critic Moritz, might suffice to make its author +immortal. In this delicious pedagogical idyl, written in December, +1790, the humor is sound, healthy, thoroughly German and +characteristic of Richter at his best. It seems as though one of the +great Dutch painters were guiding the pen, revealing the beauty of +common things and showing the true charm of quiet domesticity. +Richter's _Contented Schoolmaster_ lacked much in grace of form, but +it revealed unguessed resources in the German language, it showed +democratic sympathies more genuine than Rousseau's, it gave the +promise of a new pedagogy and a fruitful esthetic; above all it bore +the unmistakable mint-mark of genius. + +_Wuz_ won cordial recognition from the critics. With the general +public it was for the time overshadowed by the success of a more +ambitious effort, Richter's first novel, _The Invisible Lodge_. This +fanciful tale of an idealized freemasonry is a study of the effects in +after life of a secluded education. Though written in the year of the +storming of the Tuileries it shows the prose-poet of the +Fichtelgebirge as yet untouched by the political convulsions of the +time. The _Lodge_, though involved in plot and reaching an empty +conclusion, yet appealed very strongly to the Germans of 1793 by its +descriptions of nature and its sentimentalized emotion. It was truly +of its time. Men and especially women liked then, better than they do +now, to read how "the angel who loves the earth brought the most holy +lips of the pair together in an inextinguishable kiss, and a seraph +entered into their beating hearts and gave them the flames of a +supernal love." Of greater present interest than the heartbeats of +hero or heroine are the minor characters of the story, presenting +genially the various types of humor or studies from life made in the +"erotic academy" or in the families of Richter's pupils. The despotic +spendthrift, the Margrave of Bayreuth, has also his niche, or rather +pillory, in the story. Notable, too, is the tendency, later more +marked, to contrast the inconsiderate harshness of men with the +patient humility of women. Encouraged by Moritz, who declared the book +"better than Goethe," Richter for the first time signed his work "Jean +Paul." He was well paid for it and had no further serious financial +cares. + +Before the _Lodge_ was out of press Jean Paul had begun _Hesperus, or +45 Dog-post-days_, which magnified the merits of the earlier novel but +also exaggerated its defects. Wanton eccentricity was given fuller +play, formlessness seemed cultivated as an art. Digressions interrupt +the narrative with slender excuse, or with none; there is, as with the +English Sterne, an obtrusion of the author's personality; the style +seems as wilfully crude as the mastery in word-building and +word-painting is astonishing. On the other hand there is both greater +variety and greater distinction in the characters, a more developed +fabulation and a wonderful deepening and refinement of emotional +description. _Werther_ was not yet out of fashion and lovers of his +"Sorrows" found in _Hesperus_ a book after their hearts. It +established the fame of Jean Paul for his generation. It brought women +by swarms to his feet. They were not discouraged there. It was his +platonic rule "never to sacrifice one love to another," but to +experiment with "simultaneous love," "_tutti_ love," a "general +warmth" of universal affection. Intellectually awakened women were +attracted possibly as much by Richter's knowledge of their feelings as +by the fascination of his personality. _Hesperus_ lays bare many +little wiles dear to feminine hearts, and contains some keenly +sympathetic satire on German housewifery. + +While still at work on _Hesperus_ Jean Paul returned to his mother's +house at Hof. "Richter's study and sitting-room offered about this +time," says Doering, his first biographer, "a true and beautiful +picture of his simple yet noble mind, which took in both high and low. +While his mother bustled about the housework at fire or table he sat +in a corner of the same room at a plain writing-desk with few or no +books at hand, but only one or two drawers with excerpts and +manuscripts. * * * Pigeons fluttered in and out of the chamber." + +At Hof, Jean Paul continued to teach with originality and much success +until 1796, when an invitation from Charlotte von Kalb to visit Weimar +brought him new interests and connections. Meanwhile, having finished +_Hesperus_ in July, 1794, he began work immediately on the genial +_Life of Quintus Fixlein, Based on Fifteen Little Boxes of Memoranda_, +an idyl, like _Wuz_, of the schoolhouse and the parsonage, reflecting +Richter's pedagogical interests and much of his personal experience. +Its satire of philological pedantry has not yet lost pertinence or +pungency. Quintus, ambitious of authorship, proposes to himself a +catalogued interpretation of misprints in German books and other tasks +hardly less laboriously futile. His creator treats him with unfailing +good humor and "the consciousness of a kindred folly." Fixlein is the +archetypal pedant. The very heart of humor is in the account of the +commencement exercises at his school. His little childishnesses are +delightfully set forth; so, too, is his awe of aristocracy. He always +took off his hat before the windows of the manor house, even if he saw +no one there. The crown of it all is The Wedding. The bridal pair's +visit to the graves of by-gone loves is a gem of fantasy. But behind +all the humor and satire must not be forgotten, in view of what was to +follow, the undercurrent of courageous democratic protest which finds +its keenest expression in the "Free Note" to Chapter Six. _Fixlein_ +appeared in 1796. + +Richter's next story, the unfinished _Biographical Recreations under +the Cranium of a Giantess_, sprang immediately from a visit to +Bayreuth in 1794 and his first introduction to aristocracy. Its chief +interest is in the enthusiastic welcome it extends to the French +Revolution. Intrinsically more important is the _Flower, Fruit and +Thorn Pieces_ which crowded the other subject from his mind and tells +with much idyllic charm of "the marriage, life, death and wedding of +F. H. Siebenkäs, Advocate of the Poor" (1796-7). + +In 1796, at the suggestion of the gifted, emancipated and ill-starred +Charlotte von Kalb, Jean Paul visited Weimar, already a Mecca of +literary pilgrimage and the centre of neo-classicism. There, those +who, like Herder, were jealous of Goethe, and those who, like Frau von +Stein, were estranged from him, received the new light with +enthusiasm--others with some reserve. Goethe and Schiller, who were +seeking to blend the classical with the German spirit, demurred to the +vagaries of Jean Paul's unquestioned genius. His own account of his +visit to "the rock-bound Schiller" and to Goethe's "palatial hall" are +precious commonplaces of the histories of literature. There were sides +of Goethe's universal genius to which Richter felt akin, but he was +quite ready to listen to Herder's warning against his townsman's +"unrouged" infidelity, which had become socially more objectionable +since Goethe's union with Christiane Vulpius, and Jean Paul presently +returned to Hof, carrying with him the heart of Charlotte von Kalb, an +unprized and somewhat embarrassing possession. He wished no heroine; +for he was no hero, as he remarked dryly, somewhat later, when +Charlotte had become the first of many "beautiful souls" in confusion +of spirit about their heart's desire. + +In 1797 the death of Jean Paul's mother dissolved home bonds and he +soon left Hof forever, though still for a time maintaining diligent +correspondence with the "erotic academy" as well as with new and more +aristocratic "daughters of the Storm and Stress." The writings of this +period are unimportant, some of them unworthy. Jean Paul was for a +time in Leipzig and in Dresden. In October, 1798, he was again in +Weimar, which, in the sunshine of Herder's praise, seemed at first his +"Canaan," though he soon felt himself out of tune with Duchess +Amalia's literary court. To this time belongs a curious _Conjectural +Biography_, a pretty idyl of an ideal courtship and marriage as his +fancy now painted it for himself. Presently he was moved to essay the +realization of this ideal and was for a time betrothed to Karoline von +Feuchtersleben, her aristocratic connections being partially reconciled +to the _mésalliance_ by Richter's appointment as Legationsrat. He +begins already to look forward, a little ruefully, to the time when his +heart shall be "an extinct marriage-crater," and after a visit to +Berlin, where he basked in the smiles of Queen Luise, he was again +betrothed, this time to the less intellectually gifted, but as devoted +and better dowered Karoline Mayer, whom he married in 1801. He was then +in his thirty-eighth year. + +Richter's marriage is cardinal in his career. Some imaginative work he +was still to do, but the dominant interests were hereafter to be in +education and in political action. In his own picturesque language, +hitherto his quest had been for the golden fleece of womanhood, +hereafter it was to be for a crusade of men. The change had been +already foreshadowed in 1799 by his stirring paper _On Charlotte +Corday_ (published in 1801). + +_Titan_, which Jean Paul regarded as his "principal work and most +complete creation," had been in his mind since 1792. It was begun in +1797 and finished, soon after his betrothal, in 1800. In this novel the +thought of God and immortality is offered as a solution of all problems +of nature and society. _Titan_ is human will in contest with the +divine harmony. The maturing Richter has come to see that idealism in +thought and feeling must be balanced by realism in action if the thinker +is to bear his part in the work of the world. The novel naturally falls +far short of realizing its vast design. Once more the parts are more +than the whole. Some descriptive passages are very remarkable and the +minor characters, notably Roquairol, the Mephistophelean Lovelace, are +more interesting than the hero or the heroine. The unfinished _Wild +Oats_ of 1804, follows a somewhat similar design. The story of Walt +and Vult, twin brothers, Love and Knowledge, offers a study in contrasts +between the dreamy and the practical, with much self-revelation of the +antinomy in the author's own nature. There is something here to recall +his early satires, much more to suggest Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_. + +While _Wild Oats_ was in the making, Richter with his young wife and +presently their first daughter, Emma, was making a sort of triumphal +progress among the court towns of Germany. He received about this time +from Prince Dalberg a pension, afterward continued by the King of +Bavaria. In 1804 the family settled in Bayreuth, which was to remain +Richter's not always happy home till his death in 1825. + +The move to Bayreuth was marked by the appearance of _Introduction to +Esthetics_, a book that, even in remaining a fragment, shows the +parting of the ways. Under its frolicsome exuberance there is keen +analysis, a fine nobility of temper, and abundant subtle observation. +The philosophy was Herder's, and a glowing eulogy of him closes the +study. Its most original and perhaps most valuable section contains a +shrewd discrimination of the varieties of humor, and ends with a +brilliant praise of wit, as though in a recapitulating review of +Richter's own most distinctive contribution to German literature. + +The first fruit to ripen at the Bayreuth home was _Levana_, finished +in October, 1806, just as Napoleon was crushing the power of Prussia +at Jena. Though disconnected and unsystematic _Levana_ has been for +three generations a true yeast of pedagogical ideas, especially in +regard to the education of women and their social position in Germany. +Against the ignorance of the then existing conditions Jean Paul raised +eloquent and indignant protest. "Your teachers, your companions, even +your parents," he exclaims, "trample and crush the little flowers you +shelter and cherish. * * * Your hands are used more than your heads. +They let you play, but only with your fans. Nothing is pardoned you, +least of all a heart." What _Levana_ says of the use and abuse of +philology and about the study of history as a preparation for +political action is no less significant. Goethe, who had been reticent +of praise in regard to the novels, found in _Levana_ "the boldest +virtues without the least excess." + +From the education of children for life Richter turned naturally to +the education of his fellow Germans for citizenship. It was a time of +national crisis. Already in 1805 he had published a _Little Book of +Freedom_, in protest against the censorship of books. Now to his +countrymen, oppressed by Napoleon, he addressed at intervals from 1808 +to 1810, a _Peace Sermon, Twilight Thoughts for Germany_ and _After +Twilight_. Then, as the fires of Moscow heralded a new day, came +_Butterflies of the Dawn_; and when the War of Liberation was over and +the German rulers had proved false to their promises, these +"Butterflies" were expanded and transformed, in 1817, into _Political +Fast-Sermons for Germany's Martyr-Week_, in which Richter denounced +the princes for their faithlessness as boldly as he had done the +sycophants of Bonaparte. + +Most noteworthy of the minor writings of this period is _Dr. +Katzenberger's Journey to the Baths_, published in 1809. The effect of +this rollicking satire on affectation and estheticism was to arouse a +more manly spirit in the nation and so it helped to prepare for the +way of liberation. The patriotic youth of Germany now began to speak +and think of Richter as Jean Paul the Unique. In the years that follow +Waterloo every little journey that Richter took was made the occasion +of public receptions and festivities. Meanwhile life in the Bayreuth +home grew somewhat strained. Both partners might well have heeded +_Levana's_ counsel that "Men should show more love, women more common +sense." + +Of Richter's last decade two books only call for notice here, _Truth +about Jean Paul's Life_, a fragment of autobiography written in 1819, +and _The Comet_, a novel, also unfinished, published at intervals from +1820 to 1822. Hitherto, said Richter of _The Comet_, he had paid too +great deference to rule, "like a child born curled and forthwith +stretched on a swathing cushion." Now, in his maturity, he will, he +says, let himself go; and a wild tale he makes of it, exuberant in +fancy, rich in comedy, unbridled in humor. The Autobiography extends +only to Schwarzenbach and his confirmation, but of all his writings it +has perhaps the greatest charm. + +Richter's last years were clouded by disease, mental and physical, and +by the death of his son Max. A few weeks before his own death he +arranged for an edition of his complete works, for which he was to +receive 35,000 thaler ($26,000). For this he sought a special +privilege, copyright being then very imperfect in Germany, on the +ground that in all his works not one line could be found to offend +religion or virtue. + +He died on November 14, 1825. On the evening of November 17 was the +funeral. Civil and military, state and city officials took part in it. +On the bier was borne the unfinished manuscript of _Selina_, an essay +on immortality. Sixty students with lighted torches escorted the +procession. Other students bore, displayed, _Levana_ and the +_Introduction to Esthetics_. + +Sixteen years after Richter's death the King of Bavaria erected a +statue to him in Bayreuth. But his most enduring monument had already +long been raised in the funeral oration by Ludwig Börne at Frankfurt. +"A Star has set," said the orator, "and the eye of this century will +close before it rises again, for bright genius moves in wide orbits +and our distant descendants will be first again to bid glad welcome +to that from which their fathers have taken sad leave. * * * We shall +mourn for him whom we have lost and for those others who have not lost +him, for he has not lived for all. Yet a time will come when he shall +be born for all and all will lament him. But he will stand patient on +the threshold of the twentieth century and wait smiling till his +creeping people shall come to join him." + + + + +QUINTUS FIXLEIN'S WEDDING[1] + +From _The Life of Quintus Fixlein_ (1796) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY T. CARLYLE + +At the sound of the morning prayer-bell, the bridegroom--for the din +of preparation was disturbing his quiet orison--went out into the +churchyard, which (as in many other places) together with the church, +lay round his mansion like a court. Here, on the moist green, over +whose closed flowers the churchyard wall was still spreading broad +shadows, did his spirit cool itself from the warm dreams of Earth: +here, where the white flat grave-stone of his Teacher lay before him +like the fallen-in door of the Janus-temple of life, or like the +windward side of the narrow house, turned toward the tempests of the +world: here, where the little shrunk metallic door on the grated cross +of his father uttered to him the inscriptions of death, and the year +when his parent departed, and all the admonitions and mementos, graven +on the lead--there, I say, his mood grew softer and more solemn; and +he now lifted up by heart his morning prayer, which usually he read, +and entreated God to bless him in his office, and to spare his +mother's life, and to look with favor and acceptance on the purpose of +today. Then, over the graves, he walked into his fenceless little +angular flower-garden; and here, composed and confident in the divine +keeping, he pressed the stalks of his tulips deeper into the mellow +earth. + +But on returning to the house, he was met on all hands by the +bell-ringing and the Janizary-music of wedding-gladness; the +marriage-guests had all thrown off their nightcaps, and were drinking +diligently; there was a clattering, a cooking, a frizzling; +tea-services, coffee-services, and warm beer-services, were advancing +in succession; and plates full of bride-cakes were going round like +potter's frames or cistern-wheels. The Schoolmaster, with three young +lads, was heard rehearsing from his own house an _Arioso_, with which, +so soon as they were perfect, he purposed to surprise his clerical +superior. But now rushed all the arms of the foaming joy-streams into +one, when the sky-queen besprinkled with blossoms the bride, descended +upon Earth in her timid joy, full of quivering, humble love; when the +bells began; when the procession-column set forth with the whole village +round and before it; when the organ, the congregation, the officiating +priest, and the sparrows on the trees of the church-window, struck louder +and louder their rolling peals on the drum of the jubilee-festival. + +* * * The heart of the singing bridegroom was like to leap from its +place for joy "that on his bridal-day it was all so respectable and +grand." Not till the marriage benediction could he pray a little. + +Still worse and louder grew the business during dinner, when +pastry-work and march-pane-devices were brought forward, when glasses, +and slain fishes (laid under the napkins to frighten the guests) went +round, and when the guests rose and themselves went round, and, at +length, danced round: for they had instrumental music from the city +there. + +One minute handed over to the other the sugar-bowl and bottle-case of +joy: the guests heard and saw less and less, and the villagers began +to see and hear more and more, and toward night they penetrated like a +wedge into the open door--nay, two youths ventured even in the middle +of the parsonage-court to mount a plank over a beam and commence +seesawing. Out of doors, the gleaming vapor of the departed sun was +encircling the earth, the evening-star was glittering over parsonage +and churchyard; no one heeded it. + +However, about nine o'clock, when the marriage-guests had well nigh +forgotten the marriage-pair, and were drinking or dancing along for +their own behoof; when poor mortals, in this sunshine of Fate, like +fishes in the sunshine of the sky, were leaping up from their wet +cold element; and when the bridegroom under the star of happiness and +love, casting like a comet its long train of radiance over all his +heaven, had in secret pressed to his joy-filled breast his bride and +his mother--then did he lock a slice of wedding-bread privily into a +press, in the old superstitious belief that this residue secured +continuance of bread for the whole marriage. As he returned, with +greater love for the sole partner of his life, she herself met him +with his mother, to deliver him in private the bridal-nightgown and +bridal-shirt, as is the ancient usage. Many a countenance grows pale +in violent emotions, even of joy. Thiennette's wax-face was bleaching +still whiter under the sunbeams of Happiness. O, never fall, thou lily +of Heaven, and may four springs instead of four seasons open and shut +thy flower-bells to the sun! All the arms of his soul, as he floated +on the sea of joy, were quivering to clasp the soft warm heart of his +beloved, to encircle it gently and fast, and draw it to his own. + +He led her from the crowded dancing-room into the cool evening. Why +does the evening, does the night, put warmer love in our hearts? Is it +the nightly pressure of helplessness or is it the exalting separation +from the turmoil of life--that veiling of the world, in which for the +soul nothing more remains but souls;--is it therefore that the letters +in which the loved name stands written on our spirit appear, like +phosphorus-writing, by night, _in fire_, while by day in their +_cloudy_ traces they but smoke? + +He walked with his bride into the Castle garden: she hastened quickly +through the Castle, and past its servants' hall, where the fair flowers +of her young life had been crushed broad and dry, under a long dreary +pressure; and her soul expanded and breathed in the free open garden, +on whose flowery soil destiny had cast forth the first seeds of the +blossoms which today were gladdening her existence. Still Eden! Green +flower-chequered _chiaroscuro_! The moon is sleeping under ground +like a dead one; but beyond the garden the sun's red evening-clouds +have fallen down like rose-leaves; and the evening-star, the brideman +of the sun, hovers, like a glancing butterfly, above the rosy red, +and, modest as a bride, deprives no single starlet of its light. + +[Illustration: BRIDAL PROCESSION _From the Painting by Ludwig Richter_] + +The wandering pair arrived at the old gardener's hut, now standing +locked and dumb, with dark windows in the light garden, like a +fragment of the Past surviving in the Present. Bared twigs of trees +were folding, with clammy half-formed leaves, over the thick +intertwisted tangles of the bushes. The Spring was standing, like a +conqueror, with Winter at his feet. In the blue pond, now bloodless, a +dusky evening sky lay hollowed out, and the gushing waters were +moistening the flower-beds. The silver sparks of stars were rising on +the altar of the East, and, falling down, were extinguished in the red +sea of the West. + +The wind whirred, like a night-bird, louder through the trees, and +gave tones to the acacia-grove; and the tones called to the pair who +had first become happy within it: "Enter, new mortal pair, and think +of what is past, and of my withering and your own; be holy as Eternity, +and weep not only for joy, but for gratitude also!" And the wet-eyed +bridegroom led his wet-eyed bride under the blossoms, and laid his +soul, like a flower, on her heart, and said: "Best Thiennette, I am +unspeakably happy, and would say much, but cannot! Ah, thou Dearest, +we will live like angels, like children together! Surely I will do +all that is good to thee; two years ago I had nothing, no, nothing; +ah, it is through thee, best love, that I am happy. I call thee Thou, +now, thou dear good soul!" She drew him closer to her, and said, though +without kissing him: "Call me Thou always, Dearest!" + +And as they stept forth again from the sacred grove into the +magic-dusky garden, he took off his hat; first, that he might +internally thank God, and, secondly, because he wished to look into +this fairest evening sky. + +They reached the blazing, rustling, marriage-house, but their +softened hearts sought stillness; and a foreign touch, as in the +blossoming vine, would have disturbed the flower-nuptials of their +souls. They turned rather, and winded up into the churchyard to +preserve their mood. Majestic on the groves and mountains stood the +Night before man's heart, and made that also great. Over the _white_ +steeple-obelisk the sky rested _bluer_, and _darker_; and, behind it, +wavered the withered summit of the May-pole with faded flag. The son +noticed his father's grave, on which the wind was opening and +shutting, with harsh noise, the little door of the metal cross, to let +the year of his death be read on the brass plate within. As an +overpowering sadness seized his heart with violent streams of tears, +and drove him to the sunk hillock, he led his bride to the grave, and +said: "Here sleeps he, my good father; in his thirty-second year he +was carried hither to his long rest. O thou good, dear father, couldst +thou today but see the happiness of thy son, like my mother! But thy +eyes are empty, and thy breast is full of ashes, and thou seest us +not." He was silent. The bride wept aloud; she saw the moldering +coffins of her parents open, and the two dead arise and look round for +their daughter, who had stayed so long behind them, forsaken on the +earth. She fell upon his heart, and faltered: "O beloved, I have +neither father nor mother. Do not forsake me!" + +O thou who hast still a father and a mother, thank God for it, on the +day when thy soul is full of joyful tears and needs a bosom whereon to +shed them. + +And with this embracing at a father's grave, let this day of joy be +holily concluded. + + + + +ROME[2] + +From _Titan_ (1800) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY C. T. BROOKS + +Half an hour after the earthquake the heavens swathed themselves in +seas, and dashed them down in masses and in torrents. The naked +_Campagna_ and heath were covered with the mantle of rain. Gaspard was +silent, the heavens black; the great thought stood alone in Albano +that he was hastening on toward the bloody scaffold and the +throne-scaffolding of humanity, the heart of a cold, dead +heathen-world, the eternal Rome; and when he heard, on the _Ponte +Molle_, that he was now going across the Tiber, then was it to him as +if the past had risen from the dead, as if the stream of time ran +backward and bore him with it; under the streams of heaven he heard +the seven old mountain-streams, rushing and roaring, which once came +down from Rome's hills, and, with seven arms, uphove the world from +its foundations. At length the constellation of the mountain city of +God, that stood so broad before him, opened out into distant nights; +cities, with scattered lights, lay up and down, and the bells (which +to his ear were alarm-bells) sounded out the fourth hour; [3] when the +carriage rolled through the triumphal gate of the city, the _Porta del +Popolo_, then the moon rent her black heavens, and poured down out of +the cleft clouds the splendor of a whole sky. There stood the Egyptian +Obelisk of the gateway, high as the clouds, in the night, and three +streets ran gleaming apart. "So," (said Albano to himself, as they +passed through the long _Corso_ to the tenth ward) "thou art veritably +in the camp of the God of war--here is where he grasped the hilt of +the monstrous war-sword, and with the point made the three wounds in +three quarters of the world!" Rain and splendor gushed through the +vast, broad streets; occasionally he passed suddenly along by gardens, +and into broad city-deserts and market-places of the past. The rolling +of the carriages amidst the rush and roar of the rain resembled the +thunder whose days were once holy to this heroic city, like the +thundering heaven to the thundering earth; muffled-up forms, with +little lights, stole through the dark streets; often there stood a +long palace with colonnades in the light of the moon, often a solitary +gray column, often a single high fir tree, or a statue behind +cypresses. Once, when there was neither rain nor moonshine, the +carriage went round the corner of a large house, on whose roof a tall, +blooming virgin, with an uplooking child on her arm, herself directed +a little hand-light, now toward a white statue, now toward the child, +and so, alternately, illuminated each. This friendly group made its +way to the very centre of his soul, now so highly exalted, and brought +with it, to him, many a recollection; particularly was a Roman child +to him a wholly new and mighty idea. + +They alighted at last at the Prince _di Lauria's_--Gaspard's +father-in-law and old friend. * * * Albano, dissatisfied with all, kept +his inspiration sacrificing to the unearthly gods of the past round +about him, after the old fashion, namely, with silence. Well might he +and could he have discussed, but otherwise, namely in odes, with the +whole man, with streams which mount and grow upward. He looked even more +and more longingly out of the window at the moon in the pure rain-blue, +and at single columns of the Forum; out of doors there gleamed for him +the greatest world. At last he rose up, indignant and impatient, and +stole down into the glimmering glory, and stepped before the Forum; but +the moonlit night, that decoration-painter, which works with irregular +strokes, made almost the very stage of the scene irrecognizable to him. + +What a dreary, broad plain, loftily encompassed with ruins, gardens +and temples, covered with prostrate capitals of columns, and with +single, upright pillars, and with trees and a dumb wilderness! The +heaped-up ashes out of the emptied urn of Time! And the potsherds of a +great world flung around! He passed by three temple columns,[4] which +the earth had drawn down into itself even to the breast, and along +through the broad triumphal arch of Septimius Severus; on the right, +stood a chain of columns without their temple; on the left, attached +to a Christian church, the colonnade of an ancient heathen temple, +deep sunken into the sediment of time; at last the triumphal arch of +Titus, and before it, in the middle of the woody wilderness, a +fountain gushing into a granite basin. + +He went up to this fountain, in order to survey the plain out of which +the thunder months of the earth once arose; but he went along as over +a burnt-out sun, hung round with dark, dead earths. "O Man, O the +dreams of Man!" something within him unceasingly cried. He stood on +the granite margin, turning toward the Coliseum, whose mountain ridges +of wall stood high in the moonlight, with the deep gaps which had been +hewn in them by the scythe of Time. Sharply stood the rent and ragged +arches of Nero's golden house close by, like murderous cutlasses. The +Palatine Hill lay full of green gardens, and, in crumbling +temple-roofs, the blooming death-garland of ivy was gnawing, and +living ranunculi still glowed around sunken capitals. The fountain +murmured babblingly and forever, and the stars gazed steadfastly down, +with transitory rays, upon the still battlefield over which the winter +of time had passed without bringing after it a spring; the fiery soul +of the world had flown up, and the cold, crumbling giant lay around; +torn asunder were the gigantic spokes of the main-wheel, which once +the very stream of ages drove. And in addition to all this, the moon +shed down her light like eating silver-water upon the naked columns, +and would fain have dissolved the Coliseum and the temples and all +into their own shadows! + +Then Albano stretched out his arm into the air, as if he were giving +an embrace and flowing away as in the arms of a stream, and exclaimed, +"O ye mighty shades, ye, who once strove and lived here, ye are +looking down from Heaven, but scornfully, not sadly, for your great +fatherland has died and gone after you! Ah, had I, on the +insignificant earth, full of old eternity which you have made great, +only done one action worthy of you! Then were it sweet to me and +legitimate to open my heart by a wound, and to mix earthly blood with +the hallowed soil, and, out of the world of graves, to hasten away to +you, eternal and immortal ones! But I am not worthy of it!" + +At this moment there came suddenly along up the _Via Sacra_ a tall +man, deeply enveloped in a mantle, who drew near the fountain without +looking round, threw down his hat, and held a coal-black, curly, +almost perpendicular, hindhead under the stream of water. But hardly +had he, turning upward, caught a glimpse of the profile of Albano, +absorbed in his fancies, when he started up, all dripping, stared at +the count, fell into an amazement, threw his arms high into the air, +and said, "_Amico_!" Albano looked at him. The stranger said, +"Albano!" "My Dian!" cried Albano; they clasped each other +passionately and wept for love. + +Dian could not comprehend it at all; he said in Italian: "But it +surely cannot be you; you look old." He thought he was speaking German +all the time, till he heard Albano answer in Italian. Both gave and +received only questions. Albano found the architect merely browner, +but there was the lightning of the eyes and every faculty in its old +glory. With three words he related to him the journey, and who the +company were. "How does Rome strike you?" asked Dian, pleasantly. "As +life does," replied Albano, very seriously, "it makes me too soft and +too hard." "I recognize here absolutely nothing at all," he continued; +"do those columns belong to the magnificent temple of Peace?" "No," +said Dian, "to the temple of Concord; of the other there stands yonder +nothing but the vault." "Where is Saturn's temple?" asked Albano. +"Buried in St. Adrian's church," said Dian, and added hastily: "Close +by stand the ten columns of Antonine's temple; over beyond there the +baths of Titus; behind us the Palatine hill; and so on. Now tell +me--!" + +They walked up and down the Forum, between the arches of Titus and +Severus. Albano (being near the teacher who, in the days of childhood, +had so often conducted him hitherward) was yet full of the stream +which had swept over the world, and the all-covering water sunk but +slowly. He went on and said: "Today, when he beheld the Obelisk, the +soft, tender brightness of the moon had seemed to him eminently +unbecoming for the giant city; he would rather have seen a sun blazing +on its broad banner; but now the moon was the proper funeral-torch +beside the dead Alexander, who, at a touch, collapses into a handful +of dust." "The artist does not get far with feelings of this kind," +said Dian, "he must look upon everlasting beauties on the right hand +and on the left." "Where," Albano went on asking, "is the old lake of +Curtius--the Rostrum--the pila Horatia--the temple of Vesta--of Venus, +and of all those solitary columns?" "And where is the marble Forum +itself?" said Dian; "it lies thirty span deep below our feet." "Where +is the great, free people, the senate of kings, the voice of the +orators, the procession to the Capitol? Buried under the mountain of +potsherds! O Dian, how can a man who loses a father, a beloved, in +Rome shed a single tear or look round him with consternation, when he +comes out here before this battle-field of time and looks into the +charnel-house of the nations? Dian, one would wish here an iron heart, +for fate has an iron hand!" + +Dian, who nowhere stayed more reluctantly than upon such tragic cliffs +hanging over, as it were, into the sea of eternity, almost leaped off +from them with a joke; like the Greeks, he blended dances with +tragedy! "Many a thing is preserved here, friend!" said he; "in +Adrian's church yonder they will still show you the bones of the three +men that walked in the fire." "That is just the frightful play of +destiny," replied Albano, "to occupy the heights of the mighty +ancients with monks shorn down into slaves." + +"The stream of time drives new wheels," said Dian "yonder lies Raphael +twice buried.[5]" * * * And so they climbed silently and speedily over +rubbish and torsos of columns, and neither gave heed to the mighty +emotion of the other. + +Rome, like the Creation, is an entire wonder, which gradually +dismembers itself into new wonders, the Coliseum, the Pantheon, St. +Peter's church, Raphael, etc. + +With the passage through the church of St. Peter, the knight began the +noble course through Immortality. The Princess let herself, by the tie +of Art, be bound to the circle of the men. As Albano was more smitten +with edifices than with any other work of man, so did he see from +afar, with holy heart, the long mountain-chain of Art, which again +bore upon itself hills, so did he stop before the plain, around which +the enormous colonnades run like Corsos, bearing a people of statues. +In the centre shoots up the Obelisk, and on its right and left an +eternal fountain, and from the lofty steps the proud Church of the +world, inwardly filled with churches, rearing upon itself a temple +toward Heaven, looks down upon the earth. But how wonderfully, as they +drew near, had its columns and its rocky wall mounted up and flown +away from the vision! + +He entered the magic church, which gave the world blessings, curses, +kings and popes, with the consciousness, that, like the world-edifice, +it was continually enlarging and receding more and more the longer one +remained in it. They went up to two children of white marble who held +an incense-muscle-shell of yellow marble; the children grew by +nearness till they were giants. At length they stood at the main +altar and its hundred perpetual lamps. What a place! Above them the +heaven's arch of the dome, resting on four inner towers; around them +an over-arched city of four streets in which stood churches. The +temple became greatest by walking in it; and, when they passed round +one column, there stood a new one before them, and holy giants gazed +earnestly down. + +Here was the youth's large heart, after so long a time, filled. "In no +art," said he to his father, "is the soul so mightily possessed with +the sublime as in architecture; in every other the giant stands within +and in the depths of the soul, but here he stands out of and close +before it." Dian, to whom all images were more clear than abstract +ideas, said he was perfectly right. Fraischdörfer replied, "The +sublime also here lies only in the brain, for the whole church stands, +after all, in something greater, namely, in Rome, and under the +heavens; in the presence of which latter we certainly should not feel +anything." He also complained that "the place for the sublime in his +head was very much narrowed by the innumerable volutes and monuments +which the temple shut up therein at the same time with itself." +Gaspard, taking everything in a large sense, remarked, "When the +sublime once really appears, it then, by its very nature, absorbs and +annihilates all little circumstantial ornaments." He adduced as +evidence the tower of the Minster,[6] and Nature itself, which is not +made smaller by its grasses and villages. + +Among so many connoisseurs of art, the Princess enjoyed in silence. + +The ascent of the dome Gaspard recommended to defer to a dry and +cloudless day, in order that they might behold the queen of the world, +Rome, upon and from the proper throne; he therefore proposed, very +zealously, the visiting of the Pantheon, because he was eager to let +this follow immediately after the impression of Saint Peter's church. +They went thither. How simply and grandly the hall opens! Eight +yellow columns sustain its brow, and majestically as the head of the +Homeric Jupiter its temple arches itself. It is the Rotunda or +Pantheon. "O the pigmies," cried Albano, "who would fain give us new +temples! Raise the old ones higher out of the rubbish, and then you +have built enough!" [7] They stepped in. There rose round about them a +holy, simple, free world-structure, with its heaven-arches soaring and +striving upward, an Odeum of the tones of the Sphere-music, a world in +the world! And overhead[8] the eye-socket of the light and of the sky +gleamed down, and the distant rack of clouds seemed to touch the lofty +arch over which it shot along! And round about them stood nothing but +the temple-bearers, the columns! The temple of _all_ gods endured and +concealed the diminutive altars of the later ones. + +Gaspard questioned Albano about his impressions. He said he preferred +the larger church of Saint Peter. The knight approved, and said that +youth, like nations, always more easily found and better appreciated +the sublime than the beautiful, and that the spirit of the young man +ripened from strong to beautiful, as the body of the same ripens from +the beautiful into the strong; however, he himself preferred the +Pantheon. "How could the moderns," said the Counsellor of Arts, +Fraischdörfer, "build anything, except some little Bernini-like +turrets?" "That is why," said the offended Provincial Architect, Dian +(who despised the Counsellor of Arts, because he never made a good +figure except in the esthetic hall of judgment as critic, never in the +exhibition-hall as painter), "we moderns are, without contradiction, +stronger in criticism; though in practice we are, collectively and +individually, blockheads." Bouverot remarked that the Corinthian +columns might be higher. The Counsellor of Arts said that after all he +knew nothing more like this fine hemisphere than a much smaller one, +which he had found in Herculaneum molded in ashes, of the bosom of a +fair fugitive. The knight laughed, and Albano turned away in disgust +and went to the Princess. + +He asked her for her opinion about the two temples. "Sophocles here, +Shakespeare there; but I comprehend and appreciate Sophocles more +easily," she replied, and looked with new eyes into his new +countenance. For the supernatural illumination through the zenith of +Heaven, not through a hazy horizon, transfigured, in her eyes, the +beautiful and excited countenance of the youth; and she took for +granted that the saintly halo of the dome must also exalt her form. +When he answered her: "Very good! But in Shakespeare, Sophocles also +is contained, not, however, Shakespeare in Sophocles--and upon Peter's +Church stands Angelo's Rotunda!", just then the lofty cloud, all at +once, as by the blow of a hand out of the ether, broke in two, and the +ravished Sun, like the eye of a Venus floating through her ancient +heavens--for she once stood even here--looked mildly in from the upper +deep; then a holy radiance filled the temple, and burned on the +porphyry of the pavement, and Albano looked around him in an ecstasy +of wonder and delight, and said with low voice: "How transfigured at +this moment is everything in this sacred place! Raphael's spirit comes +forth from his grave in this noontide hour, and everything which its +reflection touches brightens into godlike splendor!" The Princess +looked upon him tenderly, and he lightly laid his hand upon hers, and +said, as one vanquished, "Sophocles!" + +On the next moonlit evening, Gaspard bespoke torches, in order that +the Coliseum, with its giant-circle, might the first time stand in +fire before them. The knight would fain have gone around alone with +his son, dimly through the dim work, like two spirits of the olden +time, but the Princess forced herself upon him, from a too lively wish +to share with the noble youth his great moments, and perhaps, in fact, +her heart and his own. Women do not sufficiently comprehend that an +idea, when it fills and elevates man's mind, shuts it, then, against +love, and crowds out persons; whereas with woman all ideas easily +become human beings. + +They passed over the Forum, by the _Via Sacra_, to the Coliseum, whose +lofty, cloven forehead looked down pale under the moonlight. They +stood before the gray rock-walls, which reared themselves on four +colonnades one above another, and the torchlight shot up into the +arches of the arcades, gilding the green shrubbery high overhead, and +deep in the earth had the noble monster already buried his feet. They +stepped in and ascended the mountain, full of fragments of rock, from +one seat of the spectators to another. Gaspard did not venture to the +sixth or highest, where the men used to stand, but Albano and the +Princess did. Then the youth gazed down over the cliffs, upon the +round, green crater of the burnt-out volcano, which once swallowed +nine thousand beasts at once, and which quenched itself with human +blood. The lurid glare of the torches penetrated into the clefts and +caverns, and among the foliage of the ivy and laurel, and among the +great shadows of the moon, which, like departed spirits, hovered in +caverns. Toward the south, where the streams of centuries and +barbarians had stormed in, stood single columns and bare arcades. +Temples and three palaces had the giant fed and lined with his limbs, +and still, with all his wounds, he looked out livingly into the world. + +"What a people!" said Albano. "Here curled the giant snake five times +about Christianity. Like a smile of scorn lies the moonlight down +below there upon the green arena, where once stood the Colossus of the +Sun-god. The star of the north[9] glimmers low through the windows, +and the Serpent and the Bear crouch. What a world has gone by!" The +Princess answered that "twelve thousand prisoners built this theatre, +and that a great many more had bled therein." "O! we too have +building prisoners," said he, "but for fortifications; and blood, too, +still flows, but with sweat! No, we have no present; the past, without +it, must bring forth a future." + +The Princess went to break a laurel-twig and pluck a blooming +wall-flower. Albano sank away into musing: the autumnal wind of the +past swept over the stubble. On this holy eminence he saw the +constellations, Rome's green hills, the glimmering city, the Pyramid +of Cestius; but all became Past, and on the twelve hills dwelt, as +upon graves, the lofty old spirits, and looked sternly into the age, +as if they were still its kings and judges. + +"This to remember the place and time!" said the approaching Princess, +handing him the laurel and the flower. "Thou mighty One! a Coliseum is +thy flower-pot; to thee is nothing too great, and nothing too small!" +said he, and threw the Princess into considerable confusion, till she +observed that he meant not her, but nature. His whole being seemed +newly and painfully moved, and, as it were, removed to a distance: he +looked down after his father, and went to find him; he looked at him +sharply, and spoke of nothing more this evening. + + + + +THE OPENING OF THE WILL + +From the _Flegeljahre_ (1804) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. KING + +Since Haslau had been a princely residence no one could remember any +event--the birth of the heir apparent excepted--that had been awaited +with such curiosity as the opening of the Van der Kabel will. Van der +Kabel might have been called the Haslau Croesus--and his life +described as a pleasure-making mint, or a washing of gold sand under a +golden rain, or in whatever other terms wit could devise. Now, seven +distant living relatives of seven distant deceased relatives of Kabel +were cherishing some hope of a legacy, because the Croesus had sworn +to remember them. These hopes, however, were very faint. No one was +especially inclined to trust him, as he not only conducted himself on +all occasions in a gruffly moral and unselfish manner--in regard to +morality, to be sure, the seven relatives were still beginners--but +likewise treated everything so derisively and possessed a heart so +full of tricks and surprises that there was no dependence to be placed +upon him. The eternal smile hovering around his temples and thick +lips, and the mocking falsetto voice, impaired the good impression +that might otherwise have been made by his nobly cut face and a pair +of large hands, from which New Year's presents, benefit performances, +and gratuities were continually falling. Wherefore the birds of +passage proclaimed the man, this human mountain-ash in which they +nested and of whose berries they ate, to be in reality a dangerous +trap; and they seemed hardly able to see the visible berries for the +invisible snares. + +Between two attacks of apoplexy he made his will and deposited it with +the magistrate. Though half dead when, he gave over the certificate +to the seven presumptive heirs he said in his old tone of voice that +he did not wish this token of his decease to cause dejection to mature +men whom he would much rather think of as laughing than as weeping +heirs. And only one of them, the coldly ironical Police-Inspector +Harprecht, answered the smilingly ironical Croesus: "It was not in +their power to determine the extent of their collective sympathy in +such a loss." + +At last the seven heirs appeared with their certificate at the city +hall. These were the Consistorial Councilor Glanz, the Police +Inspector, the Court-Agent Neupeter, the Attorney of the Royal +Treasury Knol, the Bookseller Passvogel, the Preacher-at-Early-Service +Flachs, and Herr Flitte from Alsace. They duly and properly requested +of the magistrates the charter consigned to the latter by the late +Kabel, and asked for the opening of the will. The chief executor of +the will was the officiating Burgomaster in person, the +under-executors were the Municipal-Councilors. Presently the charter +and the will were fetched from the Council-chamber into the +Burgomaster's office, they were passed around to all the Councilors +and the heirs, in order that they might see the privy seal of the city +upon them, and the registry of the consignment written by the town +clerk upon the charter was read aloud to the seven heirs. Thereby it +was made known to them that the charter had really been consigned to +the magistrates by the late departed one and confided to them _scrinio +rei publicæ_, likewise that he had been in his right mind on the day +of the consignment. The seven seals which he himself had placed upon +it were found to be intact. Then--after the Town-Clerk had again drawn +up a short record of all this--the will was opened in God's name and +read aloud by the officiating Burgomaster. It ran as follows: + +"I, Van der Kabel, do draw up my will on this seventh day of May 179-, +here in my house in Haslau, in Dog Street, without a great ado of +words, although I have been both a German notary and a Dutch _dominé_. +Notwithstanding, I believe that I am still sufficiently familiar with +the notary's art to be able to act as a regular testator and +bequeather of property. + +"Testators are supposed to commence by setting forth the motives which +have caused them to make their will. These with me, as with most, are +my approaching death, and the disposal of an inheritance which is +desired by many. To talk about the funeral and such matters is too +weak and silly. That which remains of me, however, may the eternal sun +above us make use of for one of his verdant springs, not for a gloomy +winter! + +"The charitable bequests, about which notaries must always inquire, I +shall attend to by setting aside for three thousand of the city's +paupers an equal number of florins so that in the years to come, on +the anniversary of my death, if the annual review of the troops does +not happen to take place on the common that day, they can pitch their +camp there and have a merry feast off the money, and afterward clothe +themselves with the tent linen. To all the schoolmasters of our +Principality also I bequeath to every man one august d'or, and I leave +my pew in the Court church to the Jews of the city. My will being +divided into clauses, this may be taken as the first. + +"SECOND CLAUSE + +It is the general custom for legacies and disinheritances to be +counted among the most essential parts of the will. In accordance with +this custom Consistorial Councillor Glanz, Attorney of the Royal +Treasury Knol, Court-Agent Peter Neupeter, Police-Inspector Harprecht, +the Preacher-at-Early-Service Flachs, the Court-bookseller Passvogel +and Herr Flitte, for the time being receive nothing; not so much +because no _Trebellianica_ is due them as the most distant relatives, +or because most of them have themselves enough to bequeath, as because +I know out of their own mouths that they love my insignificant person +better than my great wealth, which person I therefore leave them, +little as can be got out of it." + +Seven preternaturally long faces at this point started up like the +Seven-sleepers. The Consistorial Councillor, a man still young but +celebrated throughout all Germany for his oral and printed sermons, +considered himself the one most insulted by such taunts. From the +Alsatian Flitte there escaped an oath accompanied by a slight smack of +the tongue. The chin of Flachs, the Preacher-at-Early-Service, grew +downward into a regular beard. + +The City Councillors could hear several softly ejaculated obituaries +referring to the late Kabel under the name of scamp, fool, infidel, +etc. But the officiating Burgomaster waved his hand, the Attorney of +the Royal Treasury and the Bookseller again bent all the elastic steel +springs of their faces as if setting a trap, and the Burgomaster +continued to read, although with enforced seriousness. + +"THIRD CLAUSE + +I make an exception of the present house in Dog Street which, after +this my third clause, shall, just as it stands, devolve upon and +belong to that one of my seven above-named relatives, who first, +before the other six rivals, can in one half hour's time (to be +reckoned from the reading of the Clause) shed one or two tears over +me, his departed uncle, in the presence of an estimable magistrate who +shall record the same. If, however, all eyes remain dry, then the +house likewise shall fall to the exclusive heir whom I am about to +name." + +Here the Burgomaster closed the will, remarked that the condition was +certainly unusual but not illegal, and the court must adjudge the +house to the first one who wept. With which he placed his watch, which +pointed to half-past eleven, on the office-table, and sat himself +quietly down in order in his capacity of executor to observe, together +with the whole court, who should first shed the desired tear over the +testator. It cannot fairly be assumed that, as long as the earth has +stood, a more woe-begone and muddled congress ever met upon it than +this one composed of seven dry provinces assembled together, as it +were, in order to weep. At first some precious minutes were spent +merely in confused wondering and in smiling; the congress had been +placed too suddenly in the situation of the dog who, when about to +rush angrily at his enemy, heard the latter call out: Beg!--and who +suddenly got upon his hind legs and begged, showing his teeth. From +cursing they had been pulled up too quickly into weeping. + +Every one realized that genuine emotion was not to be thought of; +downpours do not come quite so much on the gallop; such sudden baptism +of the eyes was out of the question; but in twenty-six minutes +something might happen. + +The merchant Neupeter asked if it were not an accursed business and a +foolish joke on the part of a sensible man, and he refused to lend +himself to it; but the thought that a house might swim into his purse +on a tear caused him a peculiar irritation of the glands, which made +him look like a sick lark to whom a clyster is being applied with an +oiled pinhead--the house being the head. + +The Attorney of the Royal Treasury Knol screwed up his face like a +poor workman, whom an apprentice is shaving and scraping on a Saturday +evening by the light of a shoemaker's candle; he was furiously angry +at the misuse made of the title "Will" and quite near to shedding +tears of rage. + +The crafty Bookseller Passvogel at once quietly set about the matter +in hand; he hastily went over in his mind all the touching things +which he was publishing at his own expense or on commission, and from +which he hoped to brew something; he looked the while like a dog that +is slowly licking off the emetic which the Parisian veterinary, Demet, +had smeared on his nose; it would evidently be some time before the +desired effect would take place. + +Flitte from Alsace danced around in the Burgomaster's office, looked +laughingly at all the serious faces and swore he was not the richest +among them, but not for all Strasburg and Alsace besides was he +capable of weeping over such a joke. + +At last the Police-Inspector looked very significantly at him and +declared: In case Monsieur hoped by means of laughter to squeeze the +desired drops out of the well-known glands and out of the Meibomian, +the caruncle, and others, and thus thievishly to cover himself with +this window-pane moisture, he wished to remind him that he could gain +just as little by it as if he should blow his nose and try to profit +by that, as in the latter case it was well known that more tears +flowed from the eyes through the _ductus nasalis_ than were shed in +any church-pew during a funeral sermon. But the Alsatian assured him +he was only laughing in fun and not with serious intentions. + +The Inspector for his part tried to drive something appropriate into +his eyes by holding them wide open and staring fixedly. + +The Preacher-at-Early-Service Flachs looked like a Jew beggar riding a +runaway horse. Meanwhile his heart, which was already overcast with +the most promising sultry clouds caused by domestic and +church-troubles, could have immediately drawn up the necessary water, +as easily as the sun before bad weather, if only the floating-house +navigating toward him had not always come between as a much too +cheerful spectacle, and acted as a dam. + +The Consistorial Councillor had learned to know his own nature from +New Year's and funeral sermons, and was positive that he himself would +be the first to be moved if only he started to make a moving address +to others. When therefore he saw himself and the others hanging so +long on the drying-line, he stood up and said with dignity: Every one +who had read his printed works knew for a certainty that he carried a +heart in his breast, which needed to repress such holy tokens as tears +are--so as not thereby to deprive any fellowman of something--rather +than laboriously to draw them to the surface with an ulterior motive. +"This heart has already shed them, but in secret, for Kabel was my +friend," he said, and looked around. + +He noticed with pleasure that all were sitting there as dry as wooden +corks; at this special moment crocodiles, stags, elephants, witches, +ravens[10] could have wept more easily than the heirs, so disturbed +and enraged were they by Glanz. Flachs was the only one who had a +secret inspiration. He hastily summoned to his mind Kabel's charities +and the mean clothes and gray hair of the women who formed his +congregation at the early-service, Lazarus with his dogs, and his own +long coffin, and also the beheading of various people, Werther's +Sorrows, a small battlefield, and himself--how pitifully here in the +days of his youth he was struggling and tormenting himself over the +clause of the will--just three more jerks of the pump-handle and he +would have his water and the house. + +"O Kabel, my Kabel!" continued Glanz, almost weeping for joy at the +prospect of the approaching tears of sorrow. "When once beside your +loving heart covered with earth my heart too shall mol--" + +"I believe, honored gentlemen," said Flachs mournfully, arising and +looking around, his eyes brimming over, "I am weeping." After which he +sat down again and let them flow more cheerfully; he had feathered his +nest. Under the eyes of the other heirs he had snatched away the +prize-house from Glanz, who now extremely regretted his exertions, +since he had quite uselessly talked away half of his appetite. The +emotion of Flachs was placed on record and the house in Dog Street was +adjudged to him for good and all. The Burgomaster was heartily glad to +see the poor devil get it. It was the first time in the principality +of Haslau that the tears of a school-master and teacher-of-the-church +had been metamorphosed, not like those of the Heliades into light +amber, which incased an insect, but like those of the goddess Freya, +into gold. Glanz congratulated Flachs, and gayly drew his attention to +the fact that perhaps he, Glanz, had helped to move him. The rest drew +aside, by their separation accentuating their position on the dry road +from that of Flachs on the wet; all, however, remained intent upon the +rest of the will. + +Then the reading of it was continued. + + + + +_WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT_ + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER AND THE PROCESS OF HIS INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT + +From the _Introduction to the Correspondence of Schiller and +W. von Humboldt_ (1830) + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. KING + +Schiller's poetic genius showed itself in his very first productions. +In spite of all their defects in form, in spite of many things which +to the mature artist seemed absolutely crude, _The Robbers_ and +_Fiesko_ gave evidence of remarkable inherent power. His genius +later betrayed itself in the longing for poetry, as for the native +atmosphere of his spirit, which longing constantly breaks out in his +varied philosophical and historical labors and is often hinted at in +his letters to me. It finally revealed itself in virile power and +refined purity in those dramas which will long remain the pride and +the renown of the German stage. + +This poetic genius, however, is most closely wedded, in all its height +and depth, to thought; it manifests itself, in fact, in an +intellectuality which by analysis would separate everything into its +parts, and then by combination would unite all in one complete whole. +In this lies Schiller's peculiar individuality. He demanded of poetry +more profundity of thought and forced it to submit to a more rigid +intellectual unity than it had ever had before. This he did in a +two-fold manner--by binding it into a more strictly artistic form, and +by treating every poem in such a way that its subject-matter readily +broadened its individuality until it expressed a complete idea. + +It is upon these peculiarities that the excellence which characterizes +Schiller as a writer rests. It is because of them that, in order to +bring out the greatest and best of which he was capable, he needed a +certain amount of time before his completely developed individuality, +to which his poetic genius was indissolubly united, could reach that +point of clearness and definiteness of expression which he demanded of +himself. * * * + +On the other hand, it would probably be agreeable to the reader of +this correspondence if I should attempt briefly to show how my opinion +of Schiller's individuality was formed by intercourse with him, by +reminiscences of his conversation, by the comparison of his +productions in their successive sequence, and by a study of the +development of his intellect. + +What must necessarily have impressed every student of Schiller as most +characteristic was the fact that thinking was the very substance of +his life, in a higher and more significant sense than perhaps has ever +been the case with any other person. His intellect was alive with +spontaneous and almost tireless activity, which ceased only when the +attacks of his physical infirmity became overpowering. Such activity +seemed to him a recreation rather than an effort, and was manifested +most conspicuously in conversation, for which Schiller appeared to +have a natural aptitude. + +He never sought for deep subjects of conversation, but seemed rather +to leave the introduction of a subject to chance; but from each topic +he led the discourse up to a general point of view, and after a short +dialogue one found oneself in the very midst of a mentally stimulating +discussion. He always treated the central idea as an end to be +attained in common; he always seemed to need the help of the person +with whom he was conversing, for, although the latter always felt that +the idea was supplied by Schiller alone, Schiller never allowed him to +remain inactive. + +This was the chief difference between Schiller's and Herder's mode of +conversing. Never, perhaps, has there been a man who talked with +greater charm than Herder, if one happened to catch him in an +agreeable mood--not a difficult matter when any kind of note was +struck with which he was in harmony. + +[Illustration: #WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT# FRANZ KRÃœGER] + +All the extraordinary qualities of this justly admired man seemed to +gain double power in conversation, for which they were so peculiarly +adapted. The thought blossomed forth in expression with a grace and +dignity which appeared to proceed from the subject alone, although +really belonging only to the individual. Thus speech flowed on +uninterruptedly with a limpidness which still left something remaining +for one's own imagination, and yet with a _chiaroscuro_ which did not +prevent one from definitely grasping the thought. As soon as one +subject was exhausted a new one was taken up. Nothing was gained by +making objections which would only have served as a hindrance. One had +listened, one could even talk oneself, but one felt the lack of an +interchange of thought. + +Schiller's speech was not really beautiful, but his mind constantly +strove, with acumen and precision, to make new intellectual conquests; +he held this effort under control, however, and soared above his +subject in perfect liberty. Hence, with a light and delicate touch he +utilized any side-issue which presented itself, and this was the +reason why his conversation was peculiarly rich in words that are so +evidently the inspiration of the moment; yet, in spite of such seeming +freedom in the treatment of the subject, the final end was not lost +sight of. Schiller always held with firmness the thread which was +bound to lead thither, and, if the conversation was not interrupted by +any mishap, he was not prone to bring it to a close until he had +reached the goal. + +And as Schiller in his conversation always aimed to add new ground to +the domain of thought, so, in general, it may be said that his +intellectual activity was always characterized by an intense +spontaneity. His letters demonstrate these traits very perceptibly, +and he knew absolutely no other method of working. + +He gave himself up to mere reading late in the evening only, and +during his frequently sleepless nights. His days were occupied with +various labors or with specific preparatory studies in connection +with them, his intellect being thus kept at high tension by work and +research. + +Mere studying undertaken with no immediate end in view save that of +acquiring knowledge, and which has such a fascination for those who +are familiar with it that they must be constantly on their guard lest +it cause them to neglect other more definite duties--such studying, I +say, he knew nothing about from experience, nor did he esteem it at +its proper value. Knowledge seemed to him too material, and the forces +of the intellect too noble, for him to see in this material anything +more than mere stuff to be worked up. It was only because he placed +more value upon the higher activity of the intellect, which creates +independently out of its own depths, that he had so little sympathy +with its efforts of a lower order. It is indeed remarkable from what a +small stock of material and how, in spite of wanting the means by +which such material is procured by others, Schiller obtained his +comprehensive theory of life (_Weltanschauung_), which, when once +grasped, fairly startles us by the intuitive truthfulness of genius; +for one can give no other name to that which originates without +outside aid. + +Even in Germany he had traveled only in certain districts, while +Switzerland, of which his _William Tell_ contains such vivid +descriptions, he had never seen. Any one who has ever stood by the +Falls of the Rhine will involuntarily recall, at the sight, the +beautiful strophe in _The Diver_ in which this confusing tumult of +waters, that so captivates the eye, is depicted; and yet no personal +view of these rapids had served as the basis for Schiller's +description. + +But whatever Schiller did acquire from his own experience he grasped +with a clearness which also brought distinctly before him what he +learned from the description of others. Besides, he never neglected to +prepare himself for every subject by exhaustive reading. Anything that +might prove to be of use, even if discovered accidentally, fixed +itself firmly in his memory; and his tirelessly-working imagination, +which, with constant liveliness, elaborated now this now that part of +the material collected from every source, filled out the deficiencies +of such second-hand information. + +In a manner quite similar he made the spirit of Greek poetry his own, +although his knowledge of it was gained exclusively from translations. +In this connection he spared himself no pains. He preferred +translations which disclaimed any particular merit in themselves, and +his highest consideration was for the literal classical paraphrases. + +* * * _The Cranes of Ibycus_ and the _Festival of Victory_ wear the +colors of antiquity with all the purity and fidelity which could be +expected from a modern poet, and they wear them in the most beautiful +and most spirited manner. The poet, in these works, has quite absorbed +the spirit of the ancient world; he moves about in it with freedom, +and thus creates a new form of poetry which, in all its parts, +breathes only such a spirit. The two poems, however, are in striking +contrast with each other. _The Cranes of Ibycus_ permitted a +thoroughly epic development; what made the subject of intrinsic value +to the poet was the idea which sprung from it of the power of artistic +representation upon the human soul. This power of poetry, of an +invisible force created purely by the intellect and vanishing away +when brought into contact with reality, belonged essentially to the +sphere of ideas which occupied Schiller so intensely. + +As many as eight years before the time when this subject assumed the +ballad form within his mind it had floated before his vision, as is +evident in the lines which are taken from his poem _The Artists_-- + + "Awed by the Furies' chorus dread + Murder draws down upon its head + The doom of death from their wild song." + +This idea, moreover, permitted an exposition in complete harmony with +the spirit of antiquity; the latter had all the requisites for +bringing it into bold relief in all its purity and strength. +Consequently, every particular in the whole narrative is borrowed +immediately from the ancient world, especially the appearance and the +song of Eumenides. The chorus as employed by Æschylus is so +artistically interwoven with the modern poetic form, both in the +matter of rhyme and the length of the metre, that no portion of its +quiet grandeur is lost. + +_The Festival of Victory_ is of a lyric, of a contemplative nature. In +this work the poet was able--indeed was compelled--to lend from his +own store an element which did not lie within the sphere of ideas and +the sentiments of antiquity; but everything else follows the spirit of +the Homeric poem with as great purity as it does in the _Cranes of +Ibycus_. The poem as a whole is clearly stamped with a higher, more +distinct, spirituality than is usual with the ancient singers; and it +is in this particular that it manifests its most conspicuous beauties. + +The earlier poems of Schiller are also rich in particular traits +borrowed from the poems of the ancients, and into them he has often +introduced a higher significance than is found in the original. Let me +refer in this connection to his description of death from _The +Artists_--"The gentle bow of necessity"--which so beautifully recalls +the _gentle darts_ of Homer, where, however, the transfer of the +adjective from _darts_ to _bow_ gives to the thought a more tender and +a deeper significance. + +Confidence in the intellectual power of man heightened to poetic form +is expressed in the distichs entitled _Columbus_, which are among the +most peculiar poetic productions that Schiller has given us. Belief in +the invisible force inherent in man, in the opinion, which is sublime +and deeply true, that there must be an inward mystic harmony between +it and the force which orders and governs the entire universe (for all +truth can only be a reflection of the eternal primal Truth), was a +characteristic feature of Schiller's way of thinking. It harmonized +also with the persistence with which he followed up every intellectual +task until it was satisfactorily completed. We see the same thought +expressed in the same kind of metaphor in the bold but beautiful +expression which occurs in the letters from Raphael to Julius in the +magazine, _The Thalia_-- + +"When Columbus made the risky wager with an untraveled sea." * * * + +[Illustration: #UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN# With the statues of Wilhelm and +Alexander von Humboldt] + +Art and poetry were directly joined to what was most noble in man; +they were represented to be the medium by means of which he first +awakens to the consciousness of that nature, reaching out beyond the +finite, which dwells within him. Both of them were thus placed upon +the height from which they really originate. To safeguard them upon +this height, to save them from being desecrated by every paltry and +belittling view, to rescue them from every sentiment which did not +spring from their purity, was really Schiller's aim, and appeared to +him as his true life-mission determined for him by the original +tendency of his nature. + +His first and most urgent demands are, therefore, addressed to the +poet himself, from whom he requires not merely genius and talent +isolated, as it were, in their activity, but a mood which takes +possession of the entire soul and is in harmony with the sublimity of +his vocation; it must be not a mere momentary exaltation, but an +integral part of character. "Before he undertakes to influence the +best among his contemporaries he should make it his first and most +important business to elevate his own self to the purest and noblest +ideal of humanity." * * * To no one does Schiller apply this demand +more rigorously than to himself. + +Of him it can truthfully be said that matters which bordered upon the +common or even upon the ordinary, never had the slightest hold upon +him; that he transferred completely the high and noble views which +filled his thoughts to his mode of feeling and his life; and that in +his compositions he was ever, with uniform force, inspired with a +striving for the ideal. This was true even of his minor productions. + +To assign to poetry, among human endeavors, the lofty and serious +place of which I have spoken above, to defend it from the petty point +of view of those who, mistaking its dignity, and the pedantic attitude +of those who, mistaking its peculiar character, regard it only as a +trifling adornment and embellishment of life or else ask an immediate +moral effect and teaching from it--this, as one cannot repeat too +often, is deeply rooted in the German habit of thought and feeling. +Schiller in his poetry gave utterance--in his own individual manner, +however--to whatever his German nature had implanted in him, to the +harmony which rang out to him from the depths of the language, the +mysterious effect of which he so cleverly perceived and knew how to +use so masterfully. * * * + +The deeper and truer trend of the German resides in his highly +developed sensibility which keeps him closer to the truths of nature, +in his inclination to live in the world of ideas and of emotions +dependent upon them, and, in fact, in everything which is connected +therewith. * * * + +A favorite idea which often engaged Schiller's attention was the need +of educating the crude natural man--as he understood him--through art, +before he could be left to attain culture through reason. Schiller has +enlarged upon this theme on many occasions, both in prose and verse. +His imagination dwelt by preference upon the beginnings of +civilization in general, upon the transition from the nomadic life to +the agricultural, upon the covenant established in naïve faith with +pious Mother Earth, as he so beautifully expresses it. + +Whatever mythology offered here as kindred material, he grasped with +eagerness and firmness. Faithfully following the traces of fable, he +made of Demeter, the chief personage in the group of agricultural +deities, a figure as wonderful as it was appealing, by uniting in her +breast human feelings with divine. It was long a cherished plan with +Schiller to treat in epic form the earliest Attic civilization +resulting from foreign immigration. _The Eleusinian Festival_, +however, replaced this plan, which was never executed. * * * + +The merely emotional, the fervid, the simply descriptive, in fact +every variety of poetry derived directly from contemplation and +feeling, are found in Schiller in countless single passages and in +whole poems. * * * But the most remarkable evidence of the consummate +genius of the poet is seen in _The Song of the Bell_, which, in +changing metre, in descriptions full of vivacity where a few touches +represent a whole picture, runs through the varied experiences in the +life of man and of society; for it expresses the feelings which arise +in each of them, and ever adapts the whole, symbolically, to the tones +of the bell, the casting and completing of which the poem accompanies +throughout in all its various stages. I know of no poem, in any +language, which shows so wide a poetic world in so small a compass, +that so runs through the scale of all that is deepest in human +feelings, and, in the guise of a lyric, depicts life in its important +events and epochs as if in an epic poem confined within natural +limits. But the poetic clearness is enhanced by the fact that a +subject which is portrayed as actually existing, corresponds with the +shadowy visions of the imagination; and the two series thus formed run +parallel with each other to the same end. * * * + +Schiller was snatched from the world in the full maturity of his +intellectual power, though he would undoubtedly have been able to +perform an endless amount of additional work. His scope was so +unlimited that he would never have been able to find a goal, and the +constantly increasing activity of his mind would never have allowed +him time for stopping. For long years ahead he would have been able to +enjoy the happiness, the rapture, yes, the bliss of his occupation as +a poet, as he so inimitably describes it in one of the letters in this +collection, written about a plan for an idyl. His life ended indeed +before the customary limit had been reached, yet, while it lasted, he +worked exclusively and uninterruptedly in the realm of ideas and +fancy. + +Of no one else, perhaps, can it be said so truthfully that "he had +thrown away the fear of that which was earthly and had escaped out of +the narrow gloomy life into the realm of the ideal." And it may be +observed, in closing, that he had lived surrounded only by the most +exalted ideas and the most brilliant visions which it is possible for +a mortal to appropriate and to create. One who thus departs from earth +cannot be regarded as otherwise than happy. + + + + +THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL + +By JAMES TAFT HATFIELD, PH.D. + +Professor of the German Language and Literature, Northwestern +University. + +The latter half of the eighteenth century has been styled the Age of +Enlightenment, a convenient name for a period in which there was a +noticeable attempt to face the obvious, external facts of life in a +clear-eyed and courageous way. The centralizing of political power in +the hands of Louis XIV. of France and his successors had been +accompanied by a "standardizing" of human affairs which favored +practical efficiency and the easier running of the social machine, but +which was far from helpful to the self-expression of distinctly-marked +individuals. + +The French became sovereign arbiters of taste and form, but their +canons of art were far from nature and the free impulses of mankind. +The particular development of this spirit of clarity in Berlin, the +centre of German influence, lay in the tendency to challenge all +historic continuity, and to seek uniformity based upon practical +needs. + +Rousseau's revolutionary protests against inequality and +artificiality--particularly his startling treatise _On the Origin and +Foundations of Inequality among Men_ (1754)--and his fervent preaching +of the everlasting superiority of the heart to the head, constitute +the most important factor in a great revolt against regulated social +institutions, which led, at length, to the "Storm and Stress" movement +in Germany, that boisterous forerunner of Romanticism, yet so unlike +it that even Schlegel compared its most typical representatives to the +biblical herd of swine which stampeded--into oblivion. Herder, +proclaiming the vital connection between the soul of a whole nation +and its literature, and preaching a religion of the feelings rather +than a gospel of "enlightenment;" young Goethe, by his daring and +untrammeled Shakespearian play, _Goetz von Berlichingen_, and by his +open defiance, announced in _Werther_, of the authority of all +artistic rules and standards; and Bürger, asserting the right of the +common man to be the only arbiter of literary values, were, each in +his own way, upsetting the control of an artificial "classicism." +Immanuel Kant, whose deep and dynamic thinking led to a revolution +comparable to a cosmic upheaval in the geological world, compelled his +generation to discover a vast new moral system utterly disconcerting +to the shallow complacency of those who had no sense of higher values +than "practical efficiency." + +When, in 1794, Goethe and Schiller, now matured and fully seasoned by +a deep-going classical and philosophical discipline, joined their +splendid forces and devoted their highest powers to the building up of +a comprehensive esthetic philosophy, the era was fully come for new +constructive efforts on German soil. Incalculably potent was the +ferment liberated by Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_ (1795-1796)--its +attacking the problem of life from the emotional and esthetic side; +its defense of the "call" of the individual as outweighing the whole +social code; its assertion that genius outranks general laws, and +imagination every-day rules; its abundance of "poetic" figures taking +their part in the romance. + +The birth of the Romantic School can be pretty definitely set at about +1796; its cradle was in the quaint university town of Jena, at that +time the home of Schiller and his literary-esthetic enterprises, and +only a few miles away from Goethe in Weimar. Five names embody about +all that was most significant in the earlier movement: Fichte, the +brothers Friedrich and Wilhelm Schlegel, Tieck, and Novalis. + +The discussion of Fichte belonging to another division of this work, +it is enough to recall here that he was already professor of +philosophy at Jena when the Schlegel brothers made their home there +in 1796, and that it was while there that he published his _Doctrine +of Science_, the charter of independence of the Romantic School, +announcing the annihilation of physical values, proclaiming the soul +as above things perceived, the inner spirit as that alembic in which +all objects are produced. With almost insolent freshness Fichte +asserted a re-valuation of all values: what had been "enlightenment" +was now to be called shallowness; "ancient crudities" were to be +reverenced as deeper perceptions of truth; "fine literature" was to be +accounted a frivolous thing. Fichte made a stirring appeal to young +men, especially, as being alone able to perceive the meaning of +science and poetry. + +To take part in the contagion of these ideas, there settled in Jena in +1796 the two phenomenal Schlegel brothers. It is not easy or necessary +to separate, at this period, the activities of their agile minds. From +their early days, as sons in a most respectable Lutheran parsonage in +North Germany, both had shown enormous hunger for cultural +information, both had been voracious in exploiting the great libraries +within their reach. It is generally asserted that they were lacking in +essential virility and stamina; as to the brilliancy of their +acquisitions, their fineness of appreciation, and their wit, there can +be no question whatever. Madame de Staël called them "the fathers of +modern criticism," a title which has not been challenged by the best +authorities of our time. + +Friedrich von Schlegel (1772-1829), the younger of the two, is counted +to be the keener and more original mind. He had a restless and +unsettled youth, mostly spent in studies; after various +disappointments, he determined to make classical antiquity his +life-work; while mastering the body of ancient literature, he was +assimilating, with much the same sort of eagerness, the philosophical +systems of Kant and Fichte. His first notable publication was an +esthetic-philosophic essay, in the ample style of Schiller's later +discourses, _Concerning the Study of Greek Poetry_. He found in the +Greeks of the age of Sophocles the ideal of a fully developed +humanity, and exhibited throughout the discussion a remarkable mastery +of the whole field of classical literature. Just at this time he +removed to Jena to join his older brother, Wilhelm, who was connected +with Schiller's monthly _The Hours_ and his annual _Almanac of the +Muses_. By a strange condition of things Friedrich was actively +engaged at the moment in writing polemic reviews for the organs of +Reichardt, one of Schiller's most annoying rivals in literary +journalism; these reviews became at once noticeable for their depth +and vigorous originality, particularly that one which gave a new and +vital characterization of Lessing. In 1797 he moved to Berlin, where +he gathered a group about him, including Tieck, and in this way +established the external and visible body of the Romantic School, +which the brilliant intellectual atmosphere of the Berlin salons, with +their wealth of gifted and cultured women, did much to promote. In +1799 both he and Tieck joined the Romantic circle at Jena. + +In Berlin he published in 1798 the first volume of the _Athenæum_, +that journal which in a unique way represents the pure Romantic ideal +at its actual fountain-head. It survived for three years, the last +volume appearing in 1800. Its aim was to "collect all rays of human +culture into one focus," and, more particularly, to confute the claim +of the party of "enlightenment" that the earlier ages of human +development were poor and unworthy of respect on the part of the +closing eighteenth century. A very large part of the journal was +written by the two brothers, Friedrich furnishing the most aggressive +contributions, more notably being responsible for the epigrammatic +_Fragments_, which became, in their, detached brevity and +irresponsibility, a very favorite model for the form of Romantic +doctrine. "I can talk daggers," he had said when younger, and he wrote +the greater part of these, though some were contributed by Wilhelm +Schlegel, by his admirable wife Caroline, by Schleiermacher, and +Novalis. The root of this form lies in French thinking and +expression--especially the short deliverances of Chamfort, the +epigrammatist of the French Revolution. These Orphic-apocalyptic +sentences are a sort of foundation for a new Romantic bible. They are +absolutely disconnected, they show a mixture and interpenetration of +different spheres of thought and observation, with an unexpected +deference to the appraisals of classic antiquity. Their range is +unlimited: philosophy and psychology, mathematics and esthetics, +philosophy and natural science, sociology and society, literature and +the theatre are all largely represented in their scope. + +Friedrich Schlegel's epigrammatic wit is the direct precursor of +Heine's clever conceits in prose: one is instantly reminded of him by +such _Athenæum_-fragments as "Kant, the Copernicus of Philosophy;" +"Plato's philosophy is a worthy preface to the religion of the +future;" "So-called 'happy marriages' are related to love, as a +correct poem to an improvised song;" "In genuine prose all words +should be printed in italics;" "Catholicism is naïve Christianity; +Protestantism is sentimental." The sheer whimsicality of phrase seems +to be at times its own excuse for being, as in an explanation of +certain elegiac poems as "the sensation of misery in the contemplation +of the silliness of the relations of banality to craziness;" but there +are many sentences which go deep below the surface--none better +remembered, perhaps, than the dictum, "The French Revolution, Fichte's +_Doctrine of Science_, and Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_ are the greatest +symptoms of our age." + +In the _Athenæum_ both brothers give splendid testimony to their +astonishing and epoch-making gift in transferring classical and +Romance metrical forms into elegant, idiomatic German; they give +affectionate attention to the insinuating beauty of elegiac verse, and +secure charming effects in some of the most alien Greek forms, not to +mention _terza rima, ottava rima_, the Spanish gloss, and not a few +very notable sonnets. + +The literary criticisms of the _Athenæum_ are characteristically free +and aggressive, particularly in the frequent sneers at the flat +"homely" poetry of sandy North Germany. At the end of the second +volume, the "faked" _Literary Announcements_ are as daring as any +attempts of American newspaper humor. When the sum of the contents and +tendency of the journal is drawn, it is a strange mixture of +discriminating philosophy, devoted Christianity, Greek sensuousness, +and pornographic mysticism. There is a never-ending esthetic coquetry +with the flesh, with a serious defense of some very Greek practices +indeed. All of this is thoroughly typical of the spirit of the +Romantic school, and it is by no means surprising that Friedrich's +first book, the novel _Lucinda_ (1799), should stand as the supreme +unsavory classic in this field. That excellent divine, Schleiermacher, +exalted this document of the Rights of the Flesh as "a pæan of Love, +in all its completeness," but it is a feeble, tiresome performance, +absolutely without structure, quite deserving the saucy epigram on +which it was pilloried by the wit of the time: + + Pedantry once of Fancy begged the dole + Of one brief kiss; she pointed him to Shame. + He, impotent and wanton, then Shame's favors stole. + Into the world at length a dead babe came-- + "_Lucinda_" was its name. + +The preaching of "religion," "womanliness," and the "holy fire of +divine enjoyment" makes an unedifying _mélange_: "The holiest thing in +any human being is his own mind, his own power, his own will;" "You do +all according to your own mind, and refuse to be swayed by what is +usual and proper." Schleiermacher admired in it that "highest wisdom +and profoundest religion" which lead people to "yield to the rhythm of +fellowship and friendship, and to disturb no harmony of love." In more +prosaic diction, the upshot of its teaching was the surrender to +momentary feelings, quite divorced from Laws or Things. The only +morality is "full Humanity;" "Nature alone is worthy of honor, and +sound health alone is worthy of love;" "Let the discourse of love," +counsels Julius, "be bold and free, not more chastened than a Roman +elegy"--which is certainly not very much--and the skirmishes of +inclination are, in fact, set forth with an almost antique simplicity. +Society is to be developed only by "wit," which is seriously put into +comparison with God Almighty. As to practical ethics, one is told that +the most perfect life is but a pure vegetation; the right to indolence +is that which really makes the discrimination between choice and +common beings, and is the determining principle of nobility. "The +divine art of being indolent" and "the blissful bosom of +half-conscious self-forgetfulness" naturally lead to the thesis that +the empty, restless exertion of men in general is nothing but Gothic +perversity, and "boots naught but _ennui_ to ourselves and others." +Man is by nature "a serious beast; one must labor to counteract this +shameful tendency." Schleiermacher ventured, it is true, to raise the +question as to whether the hero ought not to have some trace of the +chivalrous about him, or ought not to do something effective in the +outer world--and posterity has fully supported this inquiry. + +Friedrich's next most important move was to Paris (1802), where he +gave lectures on philosophy, and attempted another journal. Here he +began his enthusiastic studies of the Sanskrit language and +literature, which proved to have an important influence on the +development of modern philology. This is eminently true of his work +_On the Language and Wisdom of the Indians_ (1808). In 1804 he removed +to Cologne, where he entered with great eagerness into the work of +re-discovering the medieval Lower Rhenish School of religious art and +Gothic architecture. In 1808 he, with his wife Dorothea (the daughter +of Moses Mendelssohn, who years before this time had left her home and +family to become his partner for life), entered the Roman Catholic +church, the interests of which engaged much of his energies for the +remainder of his life. + +[Illustration: #A HERMIT WATERING HORSES# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +He lived most of the time in Vienna, partly engaged in the literary +service of the Austrian government, partly in lecturing on history and +literature. He died in 1829 in Dresden, whither he had gone to deliver +a course of lectures. + +Friedrich Schlegel's philosophy of life was based upon the theory of +supremacy of the artist, the potency of poetry, with its incidental +corollaries of disregard for the Kantian ideal of Duty, and aversion +to all Puritanism and Protestantism. "There is no great world but that +of artists," he declared in the _Athenæum_; "artists form a higher +caste; they should separate themselves, even in their way of living, +from other people." Poetry and philosophy formed in his thought an +inseparable unit, forever joined, "though seldom together--like Castor +and Pollux." His interest is in "Humanity," that is to say, a superior +type of the species, with a corresponding contempt for "commonness," +especially for the common man as a mere machine of "duty." On +performances he set no great store: "Those countenances are most +interesting to me in which Nature seems to have indicated a great +design without taking time to carry it out." + +August Wilhelm von Schlegel (1767-1845), more simply known as +"Wilhelm," was the more balanced, dignified, and serene nature, and +possessed in a far higher degree than Friedrich the art of steering +his course smoothly through life. Of very great significance in his +training were his university years at Göttingen, and his acquaintance +there with the poet Bürger, that early apostle of revolt from a formal +literature, whose own life had become more and more discredited and +was destined to go out in wretchedness and ignominy; the latter's +fecundating activities had never been allowed full scope, but +something of his spirit of adventure into new literary fields was +doubtless caught by the younger man. Bürger's attempts at naturalizing +the sonnet, for instance, are interesting in view of the fact that +Wilhelm Schlegel became the actual creator of this literary form among +the Germans. Schlegel's own pursuits as a student were prevailingly +in the field of Hellenism, in which his acquisitions were astounding; +his influence was especially potent in giving a philological character +to much of the work of the Romanticists. In Göttingen he became +acquainted with one of the most gifted women which Germany has ever +produced, Caroline, the daughter of the Göttingen professor Michaelis, +at the time a young widow in the home of her father, and destined to +become not only his wife, but the Muse of much of his most important +work. This office she performed until the time of their unfortunate +separation. + +After finishing his university studies, Wilhelm was for a while +private tutor in a wealthy family at Amsterdam, where conditions of +living were most agreeable, but where a suitable stimulus to the +inborn life of his mind was lacking. He accordingly gave up this +position and returned, with little but hopes, to Germany. Then came a +call which was both congenial and honorable. Schiller's attention had +been drawn, years before, to a review of his own profound +philosophical poem, _The Artists_, by an unknown young man, whom he at +once sought to secure as a regular contributor to his literary +journal, _The New Thalia_. Nothing came of this, chiefly because of +Schlegel's intimate relations to Bürger at the time. Schiller had +published, not long before, his annihilatory review of Bürger's poems, +which did so much to put that poet out of serious consideration for +the remainder of his days. In the meantime Schiller had addressed +himself to his crowning enterprise, the establishing of a literary +journal which should be the final dictator of taste and literary +criticism throughout the German-speaking world. In 1794 the plan for +_The Hours_ was realized under favorable auspices, and in the same +year occurred the death of Bürger. In 1796 Schiller invited Wilhelm to +become one of the regular staff of _The Hours_, and this invitation +Schlegel accepted, finding in it the opportunity to marry Caroline, +with whom he settled in Jena in July of that year. His first +contribution to _The Hours_ was a masterful and extended treatise on +_Dante_, which was accompanied by translations which were clearly the +most distinguished in that field which the German language had ever +been able to offer. Schlegel also furnished elaborated poems, somewhat +in Schiller's grand style, for the latter's _Almanac of the Muses_. +During the years of his residence at Jena (which continued until 1801) +Schlegel, with the incalculable assistance of his wife, published the +first eight volumes of those renderings of Shakespeare's plays into +German which doubtless stand at the very summit of the art of +transferring a poet to an alien region, and which have, in actual +fact, served to make the Bard of Avon as truly a fellow-citizen of the +Germans as of the Britons. Wilhelm's brother Friedrich had remained +but a year with him in Jena, before his removal to Berlin and his +establishment of the _Athenæum_. Although separated from his brother, +Wilhelm's part in the conduct of the journal was almost as important +as Friedrich's, and, in effect, they conducted the whole significant +enterprise out of their own resources. The opening essay, _The +Languages_, is Wilhelm's, and properly, for at this time he was by far +the better versed in philological and literary matters. His cultural +acquisitions, his tremendous spoils of reading, were greater, and his +judgment more trustworthy. In all his work in the _Athenæum_ he +presents a seasoned, many-sided sense of all poetical, phonetic and +musical values: rhythm, color, tone, the lightest breath and aroma of +an elusive work of art. One feels that Wilhelm overhauls the whole +business of criticism, and clears the field for coming literary +ideals. Especially telling is his demolition of Klopstock's violent +"Northernism," to which he opposes a far wider philosophy of grammar +and style. The universality of poetry, as contrasted with a narrow +"German" clumsiness, is blandly defended, and a joyous abandon is +urged as something better than the meticulous anxiety of chauvinistic +partisanism. In all his many criticisms of literature there are charm, +wit, and elegance, an individuality and freedom in the reviewer, who, +if less penetrating than his brother, displays a far more genial +breadth and humanity, and more secure composure. His translations, +more masterly than those of Friedrich, carry out Herder's demand for +complete absorption and re-creation. + +In 1801 Schlegel went to Berlin, where for three successive winters he +lectured on art and literature. His subsequent translations of +Calderon's plays (1803-1809) and of Romance lyrics served to +naturalize a large treasure of southern poetry upon German soil. In +1804, after having separated from his wife, he became attached to the +household of Madame de Staël, and traversed Europe with her. It is +through this association that she was enabled to write her brilliant +work, _On Germany_. In 1808 he delivered a series of lectures on +dramatic art and literature in Vienna, which enjoyed enormous +popularity, and are still reckoned the crowning achievement of his +career; perhaps the most significant of these is his discourse on +Shakespeare. In the first volume of the _Athenæum_, Shakespeare's +universality had already been regarded as "the central point of +romantic art." As Romanticist, it was Schlegel's office to portray the +independent development of the modern English stage, and to defend +Shakespeare against the familiar accusations of barbaric crudity and +formlessness. In surveying the field, it was likewise incumbent upon +him to demonstrate in what respects the classic drama differed from +the independently developed modern play, and his still useful +generalization regards antique art as limited, clear, simple, and +perfected--as typified by a work of sculpture; whereas romantic art +delights in mingling its subjects--as a painting, which embraces many +objects and looks out into the widest vistas. Apart from the clarity +and smoothness of these Vienna discourses, their lasting merit lies in +their searching observation of the import of dramatic works from their +inner soul, and in a most discriminating sense of the relation of all +their parts to an organic whole. + +In 1818 Schlegel accepted a professorship at the University of Bonn, +in which place he exercised an incalculable influence upon one of the +rising stars of German literature, young Heinrich Heine, who derived +from him (if we may judge from his own testimony at the time; Heine's +later mood is a very different matter) an inspiration amounting to +captivation. The brilliant young student discovered here a stimulating +leader whose wit, finish, and elegance responded in full measure to +the hitherto unsatisfied cravings of his own nature. Although Heine +had become a very altered person at the time of writing his _Romantic +School_ (1836), this book throws a scintillating illumination upon +certain sides of Schlegel's temperament, and offers a vivid impression +of his living personality. + +In these last decades of his life Schlegel turned, as had his younger +brother, to the inviting field of Sanskrit literature and philology, +and extracted large and important treasures which may still be +reckoned among mankind's valued resources. When all discount has been +made on the side of a lack of specific gravity in Wilhelm Schlegel's +character, it is only just to assert that throughout his long and +prolific life he wrought with incalculable effect upon the +civilization of modern Europe as a humanizer of the first importance. + +Ludwig Tieck (1773-1853) is reckoned by many students of the Romantic +period to be the best and most lasting precipitate which the entire +movement has to show. For full sixty years a most prolific writer, and +occupied in the main with purely literary production, it is not +strange that he came to be regarded as the poetic mouthpiece of the +school. + +His birth was in a middle-class family of Berlin. A full university +training at Halle, Göttingen and Erlangen was accorded him, during +which he cannot be said to have distinguished himself by any triumph +in the field of formal studies, but in the course of which he +assimilated at first hand the chief modern languages of culture, +without any professional guidance. At an early stage in his growth he +discovered and fed full upon Shakespeare. As a university student he +also fell in love with the homely lore of German folk-poetry. In 1794 +he came back to Berlin, and turned to rather banal hack-writing for +the publisher Nicolai, chief of all exponents of rationalism. +Significant was his early rehabilitation of popular folk-tales and +chapbooks, as in _The Wonderful Love-Story of Beautiful Magelone and +Count Peter of Provence_ (1797). The stuff was that of one of the +prose chivalry-stories of the middle ages, full of marvels, seeking +the remote among strange hazards by land and sea. The tone of Tieck's +narrative is childlike and naïve, with rainbow-glows of the bliss of +romantic love, glimpses of the poetry and symbolism of Catholic +tradition, and a somewhat sugary admixture of the spirit of the +_Minnelied_, with plenty of refined and delicate sensuousness. With +the postulate that song is the true language of life, the story is +sprinkled with lyrics at every turn. The whole adventure is into the +realm of dreams and vague sensations. + +Tieck must have been liberally baptized with Spree-water, for the +instantaneous, corrosive Berlin wit was a large part of his endowment. +His cool irony associated him more closely to the Schlegels than to +Novalis, with his life-and-death consecrations. His absurd +play-within-a-play, _Puss in Boots_ (1797), is delicious in its +bizarre ragout of satirical extravaganzas, where the naïve and the +ironic lie side by side, and where the pompous seriousness of certain +complacent standards is neatly excoriated. + +Such publications as the two mentioned were hailed with rejoicing by +the Schlegels, who at once adopted Tieck as a natural ally. Even more +after their own hearts was the long novel, _Franz Sternbald's +Wanderings_ (1798), a vibrant confession, somewhat influenced by +_Wilhelm Meister_, of the Religion of Art (or the Art of Religion): +"Devout worship is the highest and purest joy in Art, a joy of which +our natures are capable only in their purest and most exalted +hours." + +[Illustration: #A WANDERER LOOKS INTO A LANDSCAPE# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +Sternbald, a pupil of Albrecht Dürer, makes a roving journey to the +Low Countries, the Rhine, and Italy, in order to deepen his artistic +nature. The psychology of the novel is by no means always true to the +spirit of the sixteenth century; in fact a good part of the story +reflects aristocratic French chateau-life in the eighteenth century. +The intensities of romantic friendship give a sustained thrill, and +the style is rhythmic, though the action is continually interrupted by +episodes, lyrics, and discourses. In the unworldliness, the delicacy +of sensibility, and the somewhat vague outlines of the story one may +be reminded, at times, of _The Marble Faun_. Its defense of German +Art, as compared with that of the Italian Renaissance, is its chief +message. + +This novel has been dwelt upon because of its direct influence upon +German painting and religion. A new verb, "_sternbaldisieren_," was +coined to parody a new movement in German art toward the medieval, +religious spirit. It is this book which Heine had in mind when he +ridiculed Tieck's "silly plunge into medieval naïveté." Overbeck and +Cornelius in Rome, with their pre-Raphaelite, old-German and +catholicizing tendencies, became the leaders of a productive school. +Goethe scourged it for its "mystic-religious" aspirations, and +demanded a more vigorous, cheerful and progressive outlook for German +painting. + +Having already formed a personal acquaintance with Friedrich Schlegel +in Berlin, Tieck moved to Jena in 1799, came into very close relations +with Fichte, the Schlegels, and Novalis, and continued to produce +works in the spirit of the group, notably the tragedy _Life and Death +of Saint Genoveva_ (1800). His most splendid literary feat at this +period, however, was the translation of _Don Quixote_ (1799-1801), a +triumph over just those subtle difficulties which are well-nigh +insurmountable, a rendering which went far beyond any mere literalness +of text, and reproduced the very tone and aura of its original. + +In 1803 he published a graceful little volume of typical +_Minnelieder_, renewed from the middle high-German period. The note of +the book (in which Runge's copperplate outlines are perhaps as +significant as the poems) is spiritualized sex-love: the utterance of +its fragrance and delicacy, its unique place in the universe as a +pathway to the Divine--a point of view to which the modern mind is +prone to take some exceptions, considering a religion of erotics +hardly firm enough ground to support an entire philosophy of living. +All the motives of the old court-lyric are well represented--the +torments and rewards of love, the charm of spring, the refinements of +courtly breeding--and the sophisticated metrical forms are handled +with great virtuosity. Schiller, it is true, compared them to the +chatter of sparrows, and Goethe also paid his compliments to the +"sing-song of the Minnesingers," but it was this same little book +which first gave young Jakob Grimm the wish to become acquainted with +these poets in their original form. + +That eminently "Romantic" play, _Emperor Octavian_ (1804), derived +from a familiar medieval chap-book, lyric in tone and loose in form, +is a pure epitome of the movement, and the high-water mark of Tieck's +apostleship and service. Here Tieck shows his intimate sense of the +poetry of inanimate nature; ironic mockery surrenders completely to +religious devotion; the piece is bathed in-- + + The light that never was on sea or land, + The consecration and the poet's dream. + +It is in the prologue to this play that personified Romance declares +her descent from Faith, her father, and Love, her mother, and +introduces the action by the command: + + "Moonshine-lighted magic night + Holding every sense in thrall; + World, which wondrous tales recall, + Rise, in ancient splendors bright!" + +During a year's residence in Italy Tieck applied himself chiefly to +reading old-German manuscripts, in the Library of the Vatican, and +wavered upon the edge of a decision to devote himself to Germanic +philology. + +[Illustration: #A CHAPEL IN THE FOREST# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +The loss to science is not serious, for Tieck hardly possessed the +grasp and security which could have made him a peer of the great +pioneers in this field. From the time of his leaving for Italy, +Tieck's importance for the development of Romanticism becomes +comparatively negligible. + +After a roving existence of years, during which he lived in Vienna, +Munich, Prague and London, he made a settled home in Dresden. Here he +had an enviable place in the very considerable literary and artistic +group, and led an existence of almost suspiciously "reasonable" +well-being, from a Romantic view-point. The "dramatic evenings" at his +home, in which he read plays aloud before a brilliant gathering, were +a feature of social life. For seventeen years he had an influential +position as "dramaturg" of the Royal Theatre, it being his duty to +pass on plays to be performed and to decide upon suitable actors for +the parts. + +During his long residence in Dresden Tieck produced a very large +number of short stories (_Novellen_) which had a decided vogue, though +they differ widely from his earlier writings in dealing with real, +contemporary life. + +It is pleasant to record that the evening of Tieck's long life was +made secure from anxieties by a call to Berlin from Friedrich Wilhelm +IV., the "Romantic king." His last eleven years were spent there in +quiet and peace, disturbed only by having to give dramatic readings +before a self-sufficient court circle which was imperfectly equipped +for appreciating the merits of Tieck's performances. + +The early Romantic movement found its purest expression in the person +and writings of Friedrich von Hardenberg, better known under his +assumed literary name Novalis (1772-1801). Both his father, Baron von +Hardenberg (chief director of the Saxon salt-works), and his mother +belonged to the Moravians, that devoted group of mystical pietists +whose sincere consecration to the things of the spirit has achieved a +deathless place in the annals of the religious history of the +eighteenth century, and, more particularly, determined the beginnings +and the essential character of the world-wide Methodist movement. His +gentle life presents very little of dramatic incident: he was a +reserved, somewhat unsocial boy, greatly devoted to study and to the +reading of poetry. He was given a most thorough education, and, while +completing his university career, became acquainted with Friedrich +Schlegel, and remained his most intimate friend. He also came to know +Fichte, and eagerly absorbed his _Doctrine of Science_. A little later +he came into close relations with Wilhelm Schlegel and Tieck in Jena. +He experienced a seraphic love for a delicate girl of thirteen, whose +passing away at the age of fifteen served to transport the youth's +interests almost exclusively to the invisible world: "Life is a +sickness of the spirit, a passionate Doing." His chief conversation +lay in solitude, in seeking for a mystic inner solution of the secrets +of external nature. He loved to discourse on these unseen realms, and +to create an ideal connection between them all. The testimony of his +friend Tieck, who in company with Friedrich Schlegel edited his works +in a spirit of almost religious piety, runs: "The common life +environed him like some tale of fiction, and that realm which most men +conceive as something far and incomprehensible was the very Home of +his Soul." He was not quite twenty-nine years old at the time of his +peaceful death, which plunged the circle of his Romantic friends into +deepest grief. + +The envelope of his spiritual nature was so tenuous that he seemed to +respond to all the subtler influences of the universe; a sensitive +chord attuned to poetic values, he appeared to exercise an almost +mediumistic refraction and revelation of matters which lie only in the +realm of the transcendental-- + + "Weaving about the commonplace of things + The golden haze of morning's blushing glow." + +In reading Novalis, it is hardly possible to discriminate between +discourse and dreaming; his passion was for remote, never-experienced +things-- + + "Ah, lonely stands, and merged in woe, + Who loves the past with fervent glow!" + +His homesickness for the invisible world became an almost sensuous +yearning for the joys of death. + +In the first volume of the _Athenæum_ (1798) a place of honor was +given to his group of apothegms, _Pollen_ (rather an unromantic +translation for "_Blüthenstaub_"); these were largely supplemented by +materials found after his death, and republished as _Fragments_. In +the last volume of the same journal (1800) appeared his _Hymns to +Night_. Practically all of his other published works are posthumous: +his unfinished novel, _Henry of Ofterdingen_; a set of religious +hymns; the beginnings of a "physical novel," _The Novices at Saïs_. + +Novalis's aphoristic "seed-thoughts" reveal Fichte's transcendental +idealistic philosophy as the fine-spun web of all his observations on +life. The external world is but a shadow; the universe is in us; +there, or nowhere, is infinity, with all its systems, past or future; +the world is but a precipitate of human nature. + +_The Novices at Saïs_, a mystical contemplation of nature reminding us +of the discourses of Jakob Böhme, has some suggestion of the +symbolistic lore of parts of Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_, and proves a +most racking riddle to the uninitiated. The penetration into the +meaning of the Veiled Image of Nature is attempted from the point of +view that all is symbolic: only poetic, intuitive souls may enter in; +the merely physical investigator is but searching through a +charnel-house. Nature, the countenance of Divinity, reveals herself to +the childlike spirit; to such she will, at her own good pleasure, +disclose herself spontaneously, though gradually. This seems to be the +inner meaning of the episodic tale, _Hyacinth and Rose-Blossom_. The +rhythmic prose _Hymns to Night_ exhale a delicate melancholy, moving +in a vague haze, and yet breathing a peace which comes from a +knowledge of the deeper meanings of things, divined rather than +experienced. Their stealing melody haunts the soul, however dazed the +mind may be with their vagueness, and their exaltation of death above +life. In his _Spiritual Poems_ we feel a simple, passionate intensity +of adoration, a yearning sympathy for the hopeless and the +heavy-laden; in their ardent assurance of love, peace, and rest, they +are surely to be reckoned among the most intimate documents in the +whole archives of the "varieties of religious experience." + +The unfinished novel _Henry of Ofterdingen_ reaches a depth of +obscurity which is saved from absurdity only by the genuinely fervent +glow of a soul on the quest for its mystic ideals: "The blue flower it +is that I yearn to look upon!" No farcical romance of the nursery +shows more truly the mingled stuff that dreams are made on, yet the +intimation that the dream is not all a dream, that the spirit of an +older day is symbolically struggling for some expression in words, +gave it in its day a serious importance at which our own age can +merely marvel. It brings no historical conviction; it is altogether +free from such conventional limits as Time and Space. Stripped of its +dreamy diction, there is even a tropical residue of sensuousness, to +which the English language is prone to give a plainer name. It +develops into a fantastic _mélange_ which no American mind can +possibly reckon with; what its effect would be upon a person relegated +to reading it in close confinement, it would not be safe to assert, +but it is quite certain that "this way madness lies." + +To generalize about the Romantic movement, may seem about as practical +as to attempt to make a trigonometrical survey of the Kingdom of +Dreams. No epoch in all literary history is so hopelessly entangled in +the meshes of subtle philosophical speculation, derived from the most +complex sources. To deal with the facts of classic art, which is +concerned with seeking a clearly-defined perfection, is a simple +matter compared with the unbounded and undefined concepts of a school +which waged war upon "the deadliness of ascertained facts" and +immersed itself in vague intimations of glories that were to be. Its +most authorized exponent declared it to be "the delineation of +sentimental matter in fantastic form." A more elaborated authoritative +definition is given in the first volume of the _Athenæum_: + +"Romantic poetry is a progressive universal-poetry. Its aim is not +merely to reunite all the dispersed classes of poetry, and to place +poetry in touch with philosophy and rhetoric; it aims and ought to aim +to mingle and combine poetry and prose, genius and criticism, artistic +and natural poetry; to make poetry lively and social, to make life and +society poetic; to poetize wit, to saturate all the forms of art with +worthy materials of culture and enliven them by the sallies of humor. +It embraces everything that is poetic, from the greatest and most +inclusive system of art, to the sigh, the kiss, that the poetic child +utters in artless song. Other classes of poetry are complete, and may +now be exhaustively dissected; romantic poetry is still in process of +becoming--in fact this is its chief characteristic, that it forever +can merely become, but never be completed. It can never be exhausted +by any theory, and only an intuitive criticism could dare to attempt +to characterize its ideals. It alone is endless, as it alone is free, +and asserts as its first law that the whim of the poet tolerates no +law above itself. Romantic poetry is the only sort which is more than +a class, and, as it were, the art of poetry itself." + +We may in part account for Romanticism by recalling that it was the +product of an age which was no longer in sympathy with its own tasks, +an age of political miseries and restrained powers, which turned away +from its own surroundings and sought to be free from all contact with +them, striving to benumb its sensations by an auto-intoxication of +dreams. + +Romanticism is built upon the imposing corner-stone of the unique +importance of the Individual: "To become God, to be man, to develop +one's own being, these are expressions for the same thing." As +personality is supreme, it is natural that there should follow a +contempt for the mediocrity of current majorities, standards and +opinions. It abhorred universal abstractions, as opposed to the truth +and meaning of individual phenomena. It stoutly believed in an +inexpugnable right to Illusions, and held clarity and earnestness to +be foes of human happiness. "The poem gained great applause, because +it had so strange, so well-nigh unintelligible a sound. It was like +music itself, and for that very reason attracted so irresistibly. +Although the hearers were awake, they were entertained _as though in a +dream_." + +Hence a purely lyric attitude toward life, which was apprehended only +on transcendent, musical valuations. Poetry was to be the heart and +centre of actual living; modern life seemed full of "prose and +pettiness" as compared with the Middle Ages; it was the doctrine of +this Mary in the family of Bethany to leave to the Martha of dull +externalists the care of many things, while she "chose the better +part" in contemplative lingering at the vision of what was essentially +higher. A palpitant imagination outranks "cold intelligence;" +sensation, divorced from all its bearings or functions, is its own +excuse for being. Of responsibility, hardly a misty trace; realities +are playthings and to be treated allegorically. + +The step was not a long one to the thesis that "disorder and confusion +are the pledge of true efficiency"--such being one of the +"seed-thoughts" of Novalis. In mixing all species, Romanticism amounts +to unchartered freedom, "_die gesunde, kräftige Ungezogenheit_." It is +no wonder that so many of its literary works remain unfinished +fragments, and that many of its exponents led unregulated lives. + +"Get you irony, and form yourself to urbanity" is the counsel of +Friedrich Schlegel. The unbridgeable chasm between Ideal and Life +could not be spanned, and the baffled idealist met this hopelessness +with the shrug of irony. The every-day enthusiasm of the common life +invited only a sneer, often, it is true, associated with flashing wit. + +Among its more pleasing manifestations, Romanticism shows a remarkable +group of gifted, capable women, possibly because this philosophy of +intuition corresponds to the higher intimations of woman's soul. Other +obvious fruits of the movement were the revival of the poetry and +dignity of the Middle Ages, both in art and life--that colorful, +form-loving musical era which the Age of Enlightenment had so crassly +despised. That this yearning for the beautiful background led to +reaction in politics and religion is natural enough; more edifying are +the rich fruits which scholarship recovered when Romanticism had +directed it into the domains of German antiquity and philology, and +the wealth of popular song. In addition to these, we must reckon the +spoils which these adventurers brought back from their quest into the +faery lands of Poetry in southern climes. + +When all is said, and in spite of Romanticism's weak and unmanly +quitting of the field of duty, in spite of certain tendencies to +ignore and supersede the adamant foundations of morality upon which +the "humanities" as well as society rest, one cannot quite help hoping +that somehow good may be the final hint of it all. Like Mary Stuart, +it is, at least, somewhat better than its worst repute, as formulated +by its enemies. Estimates change; even the excellent Wordsworth was +held by the English reviewers to be fantastic and vague in his _Ode to +Duty_. We should not forget that the most shocking pronouncements of +the Romanticists were uttered half-ironically, to say the least. After +its excursion into the fantastic jungle of Romanticism, the world has +found it restful and restorative, to be sure, to return to the limited +perfection of the serene and approved classics; yet perchance it _is_ +the last word of all philosophy that the astounding circumambient +Universe is almost entirely unperceived by our senses and reasoning +powers. + +Let us confess, and without apology, that the country which claims a +Hawthorne, a Poe, and a youthful Longfellow, can never surrender +unconditionally its hold upon the "True Romance:" + + "Through wantonness if men profess + They weary of Thy parts, + E'en let them die at blasphemy + And perish with their arts; + But we that love, but we that prove + Thine excellence august, + While we adore discover more + Thee perfect, wise, and just.... + + A veil to draw 'twixt God His Law + And Man's infirmity; + A shadow kind to dumb and blind + The shambles where we die; + A sum to trick th' arithmetic + Too base of leaguing odds; + The spur of trust, the curb of lust-- + Thou handmaid of the Gods!" + + + + +AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL + + * * * * * + +LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART[11] (1809) + +TRANSLATED BY JOHN BLACK + +LECTURE XXII + +Comparison of the English and Spanish Theatres--Spirit of the Romantic +Drama--Shakespeare--His age and the circumstances of his Life. + +In conformity with the plan which we laid down at the first, we shall +now proceed to treat of the English and Spanish theatres. We have +been, on various occasions, compelled in passing to allude cursorily, +sometimes to the one and sometimes to the other, partly for the sake +of placing, by means of contrast, many ideas in a clearer light, and +partly on account of the influence which these stages have had on the +theatres of other countries. Both the English and Spaniards possess a +very rich dramatic literature, both have had a number of prolific and +highly talented dramatists, among whom even the least admired and +celebrated, considered as a whole, display uncommon aptitude for +dramatic animation and insight into the essence of theatrical effect. +The history of their theatres has no connection with that of the +Italians and French, for they developed themselves wholly out of the +abundance of their own intrinsic energy, without any foreign +influence: the attempts to bring them back to an imitation of the +ancients, or even of the French, have either been attended with no +success, or not been made till a late period in the decay of the +drama. The formation of these two stages, again, is equally +independent of each other; the Spanish poets were altogether +unacquainted with the English; and in the older and most important +period of the English theatre I could discover no trace of any +knowledge of Spanish plays (though their novels and romances were +certainly known), and it was not till the time of Charles II. that +translations from Calderon first made their appearance. + +So many things among men have been handed down from century to century +and from nation to nation, and the human mind is in general so slow to +invent, that originality in any department of mental exertion is +everywhere a rare phenomenon. We are desirous of seeing the result of +the efforts of inventive geniuses when, regardless of what in the same +line has elsewhere been carried to a high degree of perfection, they +set to work in good earnest to invent altogether for themselves; when +they lay the foundation of the new edifice on uncovered ground, and +draw all the preparations, all the building materials, from their own +resources. We participate, in some measure, in the joy of success, +when we see them advance rapidly from their first helplessness and +need to a finished mastery in their art. The history of the Grecian +theatre would afford us this cheering prospect could we witness its +rudest beginnings, which were not preserved, for they were not even +committed to writing; but it is easy, when we compare Æschylus and +Sophocles, to form some idea of the preceding period. The Greeks +neither inherited nor borrowed their dramatic art from any other +people; it was original and native, and for that very reason was it +able to produce a living and powerful effect. But it ended with the +period when Greeks imitated Greeks; namely, when the Alexandrian poets +began learnedly and critically to compose dramas after the model of +the great tragic writers. The reverse of this was the case with the +Romans; they received the form and substance of their dramas from the +Greeks; they never attempted to act according to their own discretion, +or to express their own way of thinking; and hence they occupy so +insignificant a place in the history of dramatic art. Among the +nations of modern Europe, the English and Spaniards alone (for the +German stage is but forming) possess as yet a theatre entirely +original and national, which, in its own peculiar shape, has +arrived at maturity. + +[Illustration: #AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL#] + +Those critics who consider the authority of the ancients, as models, +to be such that in poetry, as in all the other arts, there can be no +safety out of the pale of imitation, affirm that, as the nations in +question have not followed this course, they have brought nothing but +irregular works on the stage, which, though they may possess +occasional passages of splendor and beauty, must yet, as a whole, be +forever reprobated as barbarous and wanting in form. We have already, +in the introductory part of these Lectures, stated our sentiments +generally on this way of thinking; but we must now examine the subject +somewhat more closely. + +If the assertion be well founded, all that distinguishes the works of +the greatest English and Spanish dramatists, a Shakespeare and a +Calderon, must rank them far below the ancients; they could in no wise +be of importance for theory, and would at most appear remarkable, on +the assumption that the obstinacy of these nations in refusing to +comply with the rules may have afforded a more ample field to the +poets to display their native originality, though at the expense of +art. But even this assumption, on a closer examination, appears +extremely questionable. The poetic spirit requires to be limited, that +it may move with a becoming liberty within its proper precincts, as +has been felt by all nations on the first invention of metre; it must +act according to laws derivable from its own essence, otherwise its +strength will evaporate in boundless vacuity. + +The works of genius cannot therefore be permitted to be without form; +but of this there is no danger. However, that we may answer this +objection of want of form, we must understand the exact meaning of the +term "form," since most critics, and more especially those who insist +on a stiff regularity, interpret it merely in a mechanical, and not in +an organical sense. Form is mechanical when, through external force, +it is imparted to any material merely as an accidental addition +without reference to its quality; as, for example, when we give a +particular shape to a soft mass that it may retain the same after its +induration. Organical form, again, is innate; it unfolds itself from +within, and requires its determination contemporaneously with the +perfect development of the germ. We everywhere discover such forms in +nature throughout the whole range of living powers, from the +crystallization of salts and minerals to plants and flowers, and from +these again to the human body. In the fine arts, as well as in the +domain of nature, the supreme artist, all genuine forms are organical, +that is, determined by the quality of the work. In a word, the form is +nothing but a significant exterior, the speaking physiognomy of each +thing, which, as long as it is not disfigured by any destructive +accident, gives a true evidence of its hidden essence. + +Hence it is evident that the spirit of poetry, which, though +imperishable, migrates, as it were, through different bodies, must, so +often as it is newly born in the human race, mold to itself, out of +the nutrimental substance of an altered age, a body of a different +conformation. The forms vary with the direction taken by the poetical +sense; and when we give to the new kinds of poetry the old names, and +judge of them according to the ideas conveyed by these names, the +application which we make of the authority of classical antiquity is +altogether unjustifiable. No one should be tried before a tribunal to +which he is not amenable. We may safely admit that most of the English +and Spanish dramatic works are neither tragedies nor comedies in the +sense of the ancients; they are romantic dramas. That the stage of a +people in its foundation and formation, who neither knew nor wished to +know anything of foreign models, will possess many peculiarities, and +not only deviate from, but even exhibit a striking contrast to, the +theatres of other nations who had a common model for imitation before +their eyes, is easily supposable, and we should only be astonished +were it otherwise. + +[Illustration: #CAROLINE SCHLEGEL#] + +But when in two nations, differing so widely as the English and +Spanish in physical, moral, political, and religious respects, the +theatres (which, without being known to one another, arose about the +same time) possess, along with external and internal diversities, the +most striking features of affinity, the attention even of the most +thoughtless cannot but be turned to this phenomenon; and the +conjecture will naturally occur that the same, or, at least, a kindred +principle must have prevailed in the development of both. This +comparison, however, of the English and Spanish theatre, in their +common contrast with every dramatic literature which has grown up out +of an imitation of the ancients, has, so far as we know, never yet +been attempted. Could we raise from the dead a countryman, a +contemporary and intelligent admirer of Shakespeare, and another of +Calderon, and introduce to their acquaintance the works of the poet to +which in life they were strangers, they would both, without doubt, +considering the subject rather from a national than a general point of +view, enter with difficulty into the above idea and have many +objections to urge against it. But here a reconciling criticism[12] +must step in; and this, perhaps, may be best exercised by a German, +who is free from the national peculiarities of either Englishmen or +Spaniards, yet by inclination friendly to both, and prevented by no +jealousy from acknowledging the greatness which has been earlier +exhibited in other countries than his own. + +The similarity of the English and Spanish theatres does not consist +merely in the bold neglect of the Unities of Place and Time, or in the +commixture of comic and tragic elements; that they were unwilling or +unable to comply with the rules and with right reason (in the meaning +of certain critics these terms are equivalent), may be considered as +an evidence of merely negative properties. The ground of the +resemblance lies far deeper, in the inmost substance of the fictions +and in the essential relations through which every deviation of form +becomes a true requisite, which, together with its validity, has also +its significance. What they have in common with each other is the +spirit of the romantic poetry, giving utterance to itself in a +dramatic shape. However, to explain ourselves with due precision, the +Spanish theatre, in our opinion, down to its decline and fall in the +commencement of the eighteenth century, is almost entirely romantic; +the English is completely so in Shakespeare alone, its founder and +greatest master; but in later poets the romantic principle appears +more or less degenerated, or is no longer perceivable, although the +march of dramatic composition introduced by virtue of it has been, +outwardly at least, pretty generally retained. The manner in which the +different ways of thinking of the two nations, one a northern and the +other a southern, have been expressed; the former endowed with a +gloomy, the latter with a glowing imagination; the one nation +possessed of a scrutinizing seriousness disposed to withdraw within +itself, the other impelled outwardly by the violence of passion--the +mode in which all this has been accomplished will be most +satisfactorily explained at the close of this section, when we come to +institute a parallel between Shakespeare and Calderon, the only two +poets who are entitled to be called great. + +Of the origin and essence of the romantic I treated in my first +Lecture, and I shall here, therefore, merely briefly mention the +subject. The ancient art and poetry rigorously separate things which +are dissimilar; the romantic delights in indissoluble mixtures; all +contrarieties--nature and art, poetry and prose, seriousness and +mirth, recollection and anticipation, spirituality and sensuality, +terrestrial and celestial, life and death, are by it blended in the +most intimate combination. As the oldest law-givers delivered their +mandatory instructions and prescriptions in measured melodies; as this +is fabulously ascribed to Orpheus, the first softener of the yet +untamed race of mortals; in like manner the whole of ancient poetry +and art is, as it were, a rhythmical _nomos_ (law), a harmonious +promulgation of the permanently established legislation of a world +submitted to a beautiful order and reflecting in itself the eternal +images of things. Romantic poetry, on the other hand, is the +expression of the secret attraction to a chaos which lies concealed in +the very bosom of the ordered universe, and is perpetually striving +after new and marvelous births; the life-giving spirit of primal love +broods here anew on the face of the waters. The former is more simple, +clear, and like to nature in the self-existent perfection of her +separate works; the latter, notwithstanding its fragmentary +appearance, approaches nearer to the secret of the universe. For +Conception can only comprise each object separately, but nothing in +truth can ever exist separately and by itself; Feeling perceives all +in all at one and the same time. + +Respecting the two species of poetry with which we are here +principally occupied, we compared the ancient Tragedy to a group in +sculpture, the figures corresponding to the characters, and their +grouping to the action; and to these two, in both productions of art, +is the consideration exclusively directed, as being all that is +properly exhibited. But the romantic drama must be viewed as a large +picture, where not merely figure and motion are exhibited in larger, +richer groups, but where even all that surrounds the figures must also +be portrayed; where we see not merely the nearest objects, but are +indulged with the prospect of a considerable distance; and all this +under a magical light which assists in giving to the impression the +particular character desired. + +Such a picture must be bounded less perfectly and less distinctly than +the group; for it is like a fragment cut out of the optic scene of +the world. However, the painter, by the setting of his foreground, by +throwing the whole of his light into the centre, and by other means of +fixing the point of view, will learn that he must neither wander +beyond the composition nor omit anything within it. + +In the representation of figure, Painting cannot compete with +Sculpture, since the former can exhibit it only by a deception and +from a single point of view; but, on the other hand, it communicates +more life to its imitations by colors which in a picture are made to +imitate the lightest shades of mental expression in the countenance. +The look, which can be given only very imperfectly by Sculpture, +enables us to read much deeper in the mind and perceive its lightest +movements. Its peculiar charm, in short, consists in this, that it +enables us to see in bodily objects what is least corporeal, namely, +light and air. + +The very same description of beauties are peculiar to the romantic +drama. It does not (like the Old Tragedy) separate seriousness and the +action, in a rigid manner, from among the whole ingredients of life; +it embraces at once the whole of the chequered drama of life with all +its circumstances; and while it seems only to represent subjects +brought accidentally together, it satisfies the unconscious +requisitions of fancy, buries us in reflections on the inexpressible +signification of the objects which we view blended by order, nearness +and distance, light and color, into one harmonious whole; and thus +lends, as it were, a soul to the prospect before us. + +The change of time and of place (supposing its influence on the mind +to be included in the picture and that it comes to the aid of the +theatrical perspective, with reference to what is indicated in the +distance, or half-concealed by intervening objects); the contrast of +gayety and gravity (supposing that in degree and kind they bear a +proportion to each other); finally, the mixture of the dialogical and +the lyrical elements (by which the poet is enabled, more or less +perfectly, to transform his personages into poetical beings)--these, +in my opinion, are not mere licenses, but true beauties in the +romantic drama. In all these points, and in many others also, the +English and Spanish works, which are preeminently worthy of this title +of Romantic, fully resemble each other, however different they may be +in other respects. + +Of the two we shall first notice the English theatre, because it +arrived at maturity earlier than the Spanish. In both we must occupy +ourselves almost exclusively with a single artist, with Shakespeare in +the one and Calderon in the other; but not in the same order with +each, for Shakespeare stands first and earliest among the English; any +remarks we may have to make on earlier or contemporary antiquities of +the English stage may be made in a review of his history. But Calderon +had many predecessors; he is at once the summit and almost the close +of dramatic art in Spain. + +The wish to speak with the brevity which the limits of my plan demand, +of a poet to the study of whom I have devoted many years of my life, +places me in no little embarrassment. I know not where to begin; for I +should never be able to end, were I to say all that I have felt and +thought, on the perusal of his works. With the poet, as with the man, +a more than ordinary intimacy prevents us, perhaps, from putting +ourselves in the place of those who are first forming an acquaintance +with him: we are too familiar with his most striking peculiarities to +be able to pronounce upon the first impression which they are +calculated to make on others. On the other hand, we ought to possess, +and to have the power of communicating, more correct ideas of his mode +of procedure, of his concealed or less obvious views, and of the +meaning and import of his labors, than others whose acquaintance with +him is more limited. + +Shakespeare is the pride of his nation. A late poet has, with +propriety, called him "the genius of the British isles." He was the +idol of his contemporaries during the interval, indeed, of puritanical +fanaticism, which broke out in the next generation and rigorously +proscribed all liberal arts and literature, and, during the reign of +the second Charles, when his works were either not acted at all, or, +if so, very much changed and disfigured, his fame was awhile obscured, +only to shine forth again about the beginning of the last century with +more than its original brightness; but since then it has only +increased in lustre with the course of time; and for centuries to come +(I speak it with the greatest confidence) it will, like an Alpine +avalanche, continue to gather strength at every moment of its +progress. Of the future extension of his fame, the enthusiasm with +which he was naturalized in Germany, the moment that he was known, is +a significant earnest. In the South of Europe,[13] his language and +the great difficulty of translating him with fidelity will be, +perhaps, an invincible obstacle to his general diffusion. In England, +the greatest actors vie with one another in the impersonation of his +characters; the printers in splendid editions of his works; and the +painters in transferring his scenes to the canvas. Like Dante, +Shakespeare has received the perhaps inevitable but still cumbersome +honor of being treated like a classical author of antiquity. The +oldest editions have been carefully collated, and, where the readings +seemed corrupt, many corrections have been suggested; and the whole +literature of his age has been drawn forth from the oblivion to which +it had been consigned, for the sole purpose of explaining the phrases +and illustrating the allusions of Shakespeare. Commentators have +succeeded one another in such number that their labors alone, with the +critical controversies to which they have given rise, constitute of +themselves no inconsiderable library. These labors deserve both our +praise and gratitude--more especially the historical investigations +into the sources from which Shakespeare drew the materials of his +plays and also into the previous and contemporary state of the +English stage, as well as other kindred subjects of inquiry. With +respect, however, to their merely philological criticisms, I am +frequently compelled to differ from the commentators; and where, too, +considering him simply as a poet, they endeavor to enter into his +views and to decide upon his merits, I must separate myself from them +entirely. I have hardly ever found either truth or profundity in their +remarks; and these critics seem to me to be but stammering +interpreters of the general and almost idolatrous admiration of his +countrymen. There may be people in England who entertain the same +views of them with myself, at least it is a well-known fact that a +satirical poet has represented Shakespeare, under the hands of his +commentators, by Actæon worried to death by his own dogs; and, +following up the story of Ovid, designated a female writer on the +great poet as the snarling Lycisca. + +We shall endeavor, in the first place, to remove some of these false +views, in order to clear the way for our own homage, that we may +thereupon offer it the more freely without let or hindrance. + +From all the accounts of Shakespeare which have come down to us it is +clear that his contemporaries knew well the treasure they possessed in +him, and that they felt and understood him better than most of those +who succeeded him. In those days a work was generally ushered into the +world with Commendatory Verses; and one of these, prefixed to an early +edition of Shakespeare, by an unknown author, contains some of the +most beautiful and happy lines that were ever applied to any poet.[14] +An idea, however, soon became prevalent that Shakespeare was a rude +and wild genius, who poured forth at random, and without aim or +object, his unconnected compositions. Ben Jonson, a younger +contemporary and rival of Shakespeare, who labored in the sweat of his +brow, but with no great success, to expel the romantic drama from the +English stage and to form it on the model of the ancients, gave it as +his opinion that Shakespeare did not blot enough, and that, as he did +not possess much school-learning, he owed more to nature than to art. +The learned, and sometimes rather pedantic Milton was also of this +opinion, when he says-- + + Our sweetest Shakespeare, fancy's child, + Warbles his native wood-notes wild. + +Yet it is highly honorable to Milton that the sweetness of +Shakespeare, the quality which of all others has been least allowed, +was felt and acknowledged by him. The modern editors, both in their +prefaces, which may be considered as so many rhetorical exercises in +praise of the poet, and in their remarks on separate passages, go +still farther. Judging them by principles which are not applicable to +them, not only do they admit the irregularity of his pieces, but, on +occasion, they accuse him of bombast, of a confused, ungrammatical, +and conceited mode of writing, and even of the most contemptible +buffoonery. Pope asserts that he wrote both better and worse than any +other man. All the scenes and passages which did not square with the +littleness of his own taste, he wished to place to the account of +interpolating players; and he was on the right road, had his opinion +been taken, of giving us a miserable dole of a mangled Shakespeare. It +is, therefore, not to be wondered at if foreigners, with the exception +of the Germans latterly, have, in their ignorance of him, even +improved upon these opinions.[15] They speak in general of +Shakespeare's plays as monstrous productions, which could have been +given to the world only by a disordered imagination in a barbarous +age; and Voltaire crowns the whole with more than usual assurance +when he observes that _Hamlet_, the profound masterpiece of the +philosophical poet, "seems the work of a drunken savage." That +foreigners, and, in particular, Frenchmen, who ordinarily speak the +most strange language of antiquity and the middle ages, as if +cannibalism had been terminated in Europe only by Louis XIV., should +entertain this opinion of Shakespeare, might be pardonable; but that +Englishmen should join in calumniating that glorious epoch of their +history,[16] which laid the foundation of their national greatness, is +incomprehensible. + +Shakespeare flourished and wrote in the last half of the reign of +Queen Elizabeth and first half of that of James I.; and, consequently, +under monarchs who were learned themselves and held literature in +honor. The policy of modern Europe, by which the relations of its +different states have been so variously interwoven with one another, +commenced a century before. The cause of the Protestants was decided +by the accession of Elizabeth to the throne; and the attachment to the +ancient belief cannot therefore be urged as a proof of the prevailing +darkness. Such was the zeal for the study of the ancients that even +court ladies, and the queen herself, were acquainted with Latin and +Greek, and taught even to speak the former--a degree of knowledge +which we should in vain seek for in the courts of Europe at the +present day. The trade and navigation which the English carried on +with all the four quarters of the world made them acquainted with the +customs and mental productions of other nations; and it would appear +that they were then more indulgent to foreign manners than they are +in the present day. Italy had already produced nearly all that still +distinguishes her literature, and, in England, translations in verse +were diligently, and even successfully, executed from the Italian. +Spanish literature also was not unknown, for it is certain that _Don +Quixote_ was read in England soon after its first appearance. Bacon, +the founder of modern experimental philosophy, and of whom it may be +said that he carried in his pocket all that even in this eighteenth +century merits the name of philosophy, was a contemporary of +Shakespeare. His fame as a writer did not, indeed, break forth into +its glory till after his death; but what a number of ideas must have +been in circulation before such an author could arise! Many branches +of human knowledge have, since that time, been more extensively +cultivated, but such branches as are totally unproductive to +poetry--chemistry, mechanics, manufactures, and rural and political +economy--will never enable a man to become a poet. I have +elsewhere[17] examined into the pretensions of modern enlightenment, +as it is called, which looks with such contempt on all preceding ages; +I have shown that at bottom it is all small, superficial, and +unsubstantial. The pride of what has been called "the existing +maturity of human intensity" has come to a miserable end; and the +structures erected by those pedagogues of the human race have fallen +to pieces like the baby-houses of children. + +With regard to the tone of society in Shakespeare's day, it is +necessary to remark that there is a wide difference between true +mental cultivation and what is called polish. That artificial polish +which puts an end to everything like free original communication and +subjects all intercourse to the insipid uniformity of certain rules, +was undoubtedly wholly unknown to the age of Shakespeare, as in a +great measure it still is at the present day in England. It possessed, +on the other hand, a fulness of healthy vigor, which showed itself +always with boldness, and sometimes also with coarseness. The spirit +of chivalry was not yet wholly extinct, and a queen, who was far more +jealous in exacting homage to her sex than to her throne, and who, +with her determination, wisdom, and magnanimity, was in fact well +qualified to inspire the minds of her subjects with an ardent +enthusiasm, inflamed that spirit to the noblest love of glory and +renown. The feudal independence also still survived in some measure; +the nobility vied with one another in splendor of dress and number of +retinue, and every great lord had a sort of small court of his own. +The distinction of ranks was as yet strongly marked--a state of things +ardently to be desired by the dramatic poet. In conversation they took +pleasure in quick and unexpected answers; and the witty sally passed +rapidly like a ball from mouth to mouth, till the merry game could no +longer be kept up. This, and the abuse of the play on words (of which +King James was himself very fond, and we need not therefore wonder at +the universality of the mode), may, doubtless, be considered as +instances of a bad taste; but to take them for symptoms of rudeness +and barbarity is not less absurd than to infer the poverty of a people +from their luxurious extravagance. These strained repartees are +frequently employed by Shakespeare, with the view of painting the +actual tone of the society in his day; it does not, however, follow +that they met with his approbation; on the contrary, it clearly +appears that he held them in derision. Hamlet says, in the scene with +the gravedigger, "By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken +note of it: the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant +comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe." And +Lorenzo, in the _Merchant of Venice_, alluding to Launcelot: + + O dear discretion, how his words are suited! + The fool hath planted in his memory + An army of good words: and I do know + A many fools, that stand in better place, + Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word + Defy the matter. + +Besides, Shakespeare, in a thousand places, lays great and marked +stress on a correct and refined tone of society, and lashes every +deviation from it, whether of boorishness or affected foppery; not +only does he give admirable discourses on it, but he represents it in +all its shades and modifications by rank, age, or sex. What foundation +is there, then, for the alleged barbarity of his age, its offences +against propriety? But if this is to be admitted as a test, then the +ages of Pericles and Augustus must also be described as rude and +uncultivated; for Aristophanes and Horace, who were both considered as +models of urbanity, display, at times, the coarsest indelicacy. On +this subject, the diversity in the moral feeling of ages depends on +other causes. Shakespeare, it is true, sometimes introduces us to +improper company; at others, he suffers ambiguous expressions to +escape in the presence of women, and even from women themselves. This +species of indelicacy was probably not then unusual. He certainly did +not indulge in it merely to please the multitude, for in many of his +pieces there is not the slightest trace of this sort to be found; and +in what virgin purity are many of his female parts worked out! When we +see the liberties taken by other dramatic poets in England in his +time, and even much later, we must account him comparatively chaste +and moral. Neither must we overlook certain circumstances in the +existing state of the theatre. The female parts were not acted by +women, but by boys; and no person of the fair sex appeared in the +theatre without a mask. Under such a carnival disguise, much might be +heard by them, and much might be ventured to be said in their +presence, which in other circumstances would have been absolutely +improper. It is certainly to be wished that decency should be observed +on all public occasions, and consequently also on the stage. But even +in this it is possible to go too far. That carping censoriousness +which scents out impurity in every bold sally, is, at best, but an +ambiguous criterion of purity of morals; and beneath this hypocritical +guise there often lurks the consciousness of an impure imagination. +The determination to tolerate nothing which has the least reference to +the sensual relation between the sexes, may be carried to a pitch +extremely oppressive to a dramatic poet and highly prejudicial to the +boldness and freedom of his compositions. If such considerations were +to be attended to, many of the happiest parts of Shakespeare's plays, +for example, in _Measure for Measure_, and _All's Well that Ends +Well_, which, nevertheless, are handled with a due regard to decency, +must be set aside as sinning against this would-be propriety. + +Had no other monuments of the age of Elizabeth come down to us than +the works of Shakespeare, I should, from them alone, have formed the +most favorable idea of its state of social culture and enlightenment. +When those who look through such strange spectacles as to see nothing +in them but rudeness and barbarity cannot deny what I have now +historically proved, they are usually driven to this last resource, +and demand, "What has Shakespeare to do with the mental culture of his +age? He had no share in it. Born in an inferior rank, ignorant and +uneducated, he passed his life in low society, and labored to please a +vulgar audience for his bread, without ever dreaming of fame or +posterity." + +In all this there is not a single word of truth, though it has been +repeated a thousand times. It is true we know very little of the +poet's life; and what we do know consists for the most part of +raked-up and chiefly suspicious anecdotes, of about such a character +as those which are told at inns to inquisitive strangers who visit the +birthplace or neighborhood of a celebrated man. Within a very recent +period some original documents have been brought to light, and, among +them, his will, which give us a peep into his family concerns. It +betrays more than ordinary deficiency of critical acumen in +Shakespeare's commentators, that none of them, so far as we know, has +ever thought of availing himself of his sonnets for tracing the +circumstances of his life. These sonnets paint most unequivocally the +actual situation and sentiments of the poet; they make us acquainted +with the passions of the man; they even contain remarkable confessions +of his youthful errors. Shakespeare's father was a man of property, +whose ancestors had held the office of alderman and bailiff in +Stratford; and in a diploma from the Heralds' Office for the renewal +or confirmation of his coat of arms, he is styled _gentleman_. Our +poet, the oldest son but third child, could not, it is true, receive +an academic education, as he married when hardly eighteen, probably +from mere family considerations. This retired and unnoticed life he +continued to lead but a few years; and he was either enticed to London +from wearisomeness of his situation, or banished from home, as it is +said, in consequence of his irregularities. There he assumed the +profession of a player, which he considered at first as a degradation, +principally, perhaps, because of the wild excesses[18] into which he +was seduced by the example of his comrades. It is extremely probable +that the poetical fame which, in the progress of his career, he +afterward acquired, greatly contributed to ennoble the stage and to +bring the player's profession into better repute. Even at a very early +age he endeavored to distinguish himself as a poet in other walks than +those of the stage, as is proved by his juvenile poems of _Adonis and +Lucrece_. He quickly rose to be a sharer or joint proprietor, and also +manager, of the theatre for which he wrote. That he was not admitted +to the society of persons of distinction is altogether incredible. Not +to mention many others, he found a liberal friend and kind patron in +the Earl of Southampton, the friend of the unfortunate Essex. His +pieces were not only the delight of the great public, but also in +great favor at court; the two monarchs under whose reigns he wrote +were, according to the testimony of a contemporary, quite "taken" with +him.[19] Many plays were acted at court; and Elizabeth appears herself +to have commanded the writing of more than one to be acted at her +court festivals. King James, it is well known, honored Shakespeare so +far as to write to him with his own hand. All this looks very unlike +either contempt or banishment into the obscurity of a low circle. By +his labors as a poet, player, and stage-manager, Shakespeare acquired +a considerable property, which, in the last years of his too short +life, he enjoyed in his native town in retirement and in the society +of a beloved daughter. Immediately after his death a monument was +erected over his grave, which may be considered sumptuous for those +times. + +In the midst of such brilliant success, and with such distinguished +proofs of respect and honor from his contemporaries, it would be +singular indeed if Shakespeare, notwithstanding the modesty of a great +mind, which he certainly possessed in a peculiar degree, should never +have dreamed of posthumous fame. As a profound thinker he had quite +accurately taken the measure of the circle of human capabilities, and +he could say to himself with confidence that many of his productions +would not easily be surpassed. What foundation then is there for the +contrary assertion, which would degrade the immortal artist to the +situation of a daily laborer for a rude multitude? Merely this, that +he himself published no edition of his whole works. We do not reflect +that a poet, always accustomed to labor immediately for the stage, who +has often enjoyed the triumph of overpowering assembled crowds of +spectators and drawing from them the most tumultuous applause, who the +while was not dependent on the caprice of crotchety stage directors, +but left to his own discretion to select and determine the mode of +theatrical representation, naturally cares much less for the closet of +the solitary reader. During the first formation of a national theatre, +more especially, we find frequent examples of such indifference. Of +the almost innumerable pieces of Lope de Vega, many undoubtedly were +never printed, and are consequently lost; and Cervantes did not print +his earlier dramas, though he certainly boasts of them as meritorious +works. As Shakespeare, on his retiring from the theatre, left his +manuscripts behind with his fellow-managers, he may have relied on +theatrical tradition for handing them down to posterity, which would +indeed have been sufficient for that purpose if the closing of the +theatres, under the tyrannical intolerance of the Puritans, had not +interrupted the natural order of things. We know, besides, that the +poets used then to sell the exclusive copyright of their pieces to the +theatre:[20] it is therefore not improbable that the right of property +in his unprinted pieces was no longer vested in Shakespeare, or had +not, at least, yet reverted to him. His fellow-managers entered on the +publication seven years after his death (which probably cut short his +own intention), as it would appear on their own account and for their +own advantage. + +LECTURE XXIII + +Ignorance or Learning of Shakespeare--Costume as observed by Shakespeare, +and how far necessary, or may be dispensed with in the Drama--Shakespeare +the greatest drawer of Character--Vindication of the genuineness of his +pathos--Play on words--Moral delicacy--Irony--Mixture of the Tragic and +Comic--The part of the Fool or Clown--Shakespeare's Language and +Versification. + +Our poet's want of scholarship has been the subject of endless +controversy, and yet it is surely a very easy matter to decide. +Shakespeare was poor in dead school-cram, but he possessed a rich +treasury of living and intuitive knowledge. He knew a little Latin, +and even something of Greek, though it may be not enough to read with +ease the writers in the original. With modern languages also, the +French and Italian, he had, perhaps, but a superficial acquaintance. +The general direction of his mind was not to the collection of words +but of facts. With English books, whether original or translated, he +was extensively acquainted: we may safely affirm that he had read all +that his native language and literature then contained that could be +of any use to him in his poetical avocations. He was sufficiently +intimate with mythology to employ it, in the only manner he could +wish, in the way of symbolical ornament. He had formed a correct +notion of the spirit of Ancient History, and more particularly of that +of the Romans; and the history of his own country was familiar to him +even in detail. Fortunately for him it had not as yet been treated in +a diplomatic and pragmatic spirit, but merely in the chronicle-style; +in other words, it had not yet assumed the appearance of dry +investigations respecting the development of political relations, +diplomatic negotiations, finances, etc., but exhibited a visible image +of the life and movement of an age prolific of great deeds. +Shakespeare, moreover, was a nice observer of nature; he knew the +technical language of mechanics and artisans; he seems to have been +well traveled in the interior of his own country, while of others he +inquired diligently of traveled navigators respecting their +peculiarity of climate and customs. He thus became accurately +acquainted with all the popular usages, opinions, and traditions which +could be of use in poetry. + +The proofs of his ignorance, on which the greatest stress is laid, are +a few geographical blunders and anachronisms. Because in a comedy +founded on an earlier tale, he makes ships visit Bohemia, he has been +the subject of much laughter. But I conceive that we should be very +unjust toward him, were we to conclude that he did not, as well as +ourselves, possess the useful but by no means difficult knowledge that +Bohemia is nowhere bounded by the sea. He could never, in that case, +have looked into a map of Germany, but yet describes elsewhere, with +great accuracy, the maps of both Indies, together with the discoveries +of the latest navigators.[21] In such matters Shakespeare is faithful +only to the details of the domestic stories. In the novels on which he +worked, he avoided disturbing the associations of his audience, to +whom they were known, by novelties--the correction of errors in +secondary and unimportant particulars. The more wonderful the story, +the more it ranged in a purely poetical region, which he transfers at +will to an indefinite distance. These plays, whatever names they bear, +take place in the true land of romance and in the very century of +wonderful love stories. He knew well that in the forest of Ardennes +there were neither the lions and serpents of the torrid zone, nor the +shepherdesses of Arcadia; but he transferred both to it,[22] because +the design and import of his picture required them. Here he considered +himself entitled to take the greatest liberties. He had not to do with +a hair-splitting, hypercritical age like ours, which is always seeking +in poetry for something else than poetry; his audience entered the +theatre, not to learn true chronology, geography, and natural history, +but to witness a vivid exhibition. I will undertake to prove that +Shakespeare's anachronisms are, for the most part, committed of set +purpose and deliberately. It was frequently of importance to him to +move the exhibited subjects out of the background of time and bring it +quite near us. Hence in _Hamlet_, though avowedly an old Northern +story, there runs a tone of modish society, and in every respect the +customs of the most recent period. Without those circumstantialities +it would not have been allowable to make a philosophical inquirer of +Hamlet, on which trait, however, the meaning of the whole is made to +rest. On that account he mentions his education at a university, +though, in the age of the true Hamlet of history, universities were +not in existence. He makes him study at Wittenberg, and no selection +of a place could have been more suitable. The name was very popular: +the story of _Dr. Faustus of Wittenberg_ had made it well known; it +was of particular celebrity in Protestant England, as Luther had +taught and written there shortly before, and the very name must have +immediately suggested the idea of freedom in thinking. I cannot even +consider it an anachronism that Richard the Third should speak of +Machiavelli. The word is here used altogether proverbially the +contents, at least, of the book entitled _Of the Prince_ (_Del +Principe_) have been in existence ever since the existence of tyrants; +Machiavelli was merely the first to commit them to writing. + +That Shakespeare has accurately hit the essential custom, namely, the +spirit of ages and nations, is at least acknowledged generally by the +English critics; but many sins against external costume may be easily +remarked. Yet here it is necessary to bear in mind that the Roman +pieces were acted upon the stage of that day in the European dress. +This was, it is true, still grand and splendid, not so silly and +tasteless as it became toward the end of the seventeenth century. +(Brutus and Cassius appeared in the Spanish cloak; they wore, quite +contrary to the Roman custom, the sword by their side in time of +peace, and, according to the testimony of an eye witness,[23] it was, +in the dialogue where Brutus stimulates Cassius to the conspiracy, +drawn, as if involuntarily, half out of the sheath). This does in no +way agree with our way of thinking: we are not content without the +toga. + +The present, perhaps, is not an inappropriate place for a few general +observations on costume, considered with reference to art. It has +never been more accurately observed than in the present day; art has +become a slop-shop for pedantic antiquities. This is because we live +in a learned and critical, but by no means poetical age. The ancients +before us used, when they had to represent the religions of other +nations which deviated very much from their own, to bring them into +conformity with the Greek mythology. In Sculpture, again, the same +dress, namely, the Phrygian, was adopted, once for all, for every +barbaric tribe. Not that they did not know that there were as many +different dresses as nations; but in art they merely wished to +acknowledge the great contrast between barbarian and civilized: and +this, they thought, was rendered most strikingly apparent in the +Phrygian garb. The earlier Christian painters represent the Savior, +the Virgin Mary, the Patriarchs, and the Apostles in an ideal dress, +but the subordinate actors or spectators of the action in the dresses +of their own nation and age. Here they were guided by a correct +feeling: the mysterious and sacred ought to be kept at an +awe-inspiring distance, but the human cannot be rightly understood if +seen without its usual accompaniments. In the middle ages all heroical +stories of antiquity, from Theseus and Achilles down to Alexander, +were metamorphosed into true tales of chivalry. What was related to +themselves spoke alone an intelligible language to them; of +differences and distinctions they did not care to know. In an old +manuscript of the _Iliad_, I saw a miniature illumination representing +Hector's funeral procession, where the coffin is hung with noble coats +of arms and carried into a Gothic church. It is easy to make merry +with this piece of simplicity, but a reflecting mind will see the +subject in a very different light. A powerful consciousness of the +universal validity and the solid permanency of their own manner of +being, an undoubting conviction that it has always so been and will +ever continue so to be in the world--these feelings of our ancestors +were symptoms of a fresh fulness of life; they were the marrow of +action in reality as well as in fiction. Their plain and affectionate +attachment to everything around them, handed down from their fathers, +is by no means to be confounded with the obstreperous conceit of ages +of mannerism, for they, out of vanity, introduce the fleeting modes +and fashion of the day into art, because to them everything like noble +simplicity seems boorish and rude. The latter impropriety is now +abolished: but, on the other hand, our poets and artists, if they +would hope for our approbation, must, like servants, wear the livery +of distant centuries and foreign nations. We are everywhere at home +except at home. We do ourselves the justice to allow that the present +mode of dressing, forms of politeness, etc., are altogether +unpoetical, and art is therefore obliged to beg, as an alms, a +poetical costume from the antiquaries. To that simple way of thinking, +which is merely attentive to the inward truth of the composition, +without stumbling at anachronisms or other external inconsistencies, +we cannot, alas! now return; but we must envy the poets to whom it +offered itself; it allowed them a great breadth and freedom in the +handling of their subject. + +Many things in Shakespeare must be judged of according to the above +principles, respecting the difference between the essential and the +merely learned costume. They will also in their measure admit of an +application to Calderon. + +So much with respect to the spirit of the age in which Shakespeare +lived, and his peculiar mental culture and knowledge. To me he appears +a profound artist, and not a blind and wildly luxuriant genius. I +consider, generally speaking, all that has been said on the subject a +mere fable, a blind and extravagant error. In other arts the assertion +refutes itself; for in them acquired knowledge is an indispensable +condition of clever execution. But even in such poets as are usually +given out as careless pupils of nature, devoid of art or school +discipline, I have always found, on a nearer consideration of the +works of real excellence they may have produced, even a high +cultivation of the mental powers, practice in art, and views both +worthy in themselves and maturely considered. This applies to Homer as +well as to Dante. The activity of genius is, it is true, natural to +it, and, in a certain sense, unconscious; and, consequently, the +person who possesses it is not always at the moment able to render an +account of the course which he may have pursued; but it by no means +follows that the thinking power had not a great share in it. It is +from the very rapidity and certainty of the mental process, from the +utmost clearness of understanding, that thinking in a poet is not +perceived as something abstracted, does not wear the appearance of +reflex meditation. That notion of poetical inspiration, which many +lyrical poets have brought into circulation, as if they were not in +their senses, and, like Pythia when possessed by the divinity, +delivered oracles unintelligible to themselves--this notion (a mere +lyrical invention) is least of all applicable to dramatic composition, +one of the most thoughtful productions of the human mind. It is +admitted that Shakespeare has reflected, and deeply reflected, on +character and passion, on the progress of events and human destinies, +on the human constitution, on all the things and relations of the +world; this is an admission which must be made, for one alone of +thousands of his maxims would be a sufficient refutation of any who +should attempt to deny it. So that it was only for the structure of +his own pieces that he had no thought to spare? This he left to the +dominion of chance, which blew together the atoms of Epicurus. But +supposing that, devoid of any higher ambition to approve himself to +judicious critics and posterity, and wanting in that love of art which +longs for self-satisfaction in the perfection of its works, he had +merely labored to please the unlettered crowd; still this very object +alone and the pursuit of theatrical effect would have led him to +bestow attention to the structure and adherence of his pieces. For +does not the impression of a drama depend in an especial manner on the +relation of the parts to one another? And, however beautiful a scene +may be in itself, if yet it be at variance with what the spectators +have been led to expect in its particular place, so as to destroy the +interest which they had hitherto felt, will it not be at once +reprobated by all who possess plain common sense and give themselves +up to nature? The comic intermixtures may be considered merely as a +sort of interlude, designed to relieve the straining of the mind after +the stretch of the more serious parts, so long as no better purpose +can be found in them; but in the progress of the main action, in the +concatenation of the events, the poet must, if possible, display even +more expenditure of thought than in the composition of individual +character and situations, otherwise he would be like the conductor of +a puppet-show who has so entangled his wires that the puppets receive +from their mechanism quite different movements from those which he +actually intended. + +The English critics are unanimous in their praise of the truth and +uniform consistency of his characters, of his heartrending pathos, and +his comic wit. Moreover, they extol the beauty and sublimity of his +separate descriptions, images, and expressions. This last is the most +superficial and cheap mode of criticising works of art. Johnson +compares him who should endeavor to recommend this poet by passages +unconnectedly torn from his works, to the pedant in Hierocles, who +exhibited a brick as a sample of his house. And yet how little, and +how very unsatisfactorily does he himself speak of the pieces +considered as a whole! Let any man, for instance, bring together the +short characters which he gives at the close of each play, and see if +the aggregate will amount to that sum of admiration which he himself, +at his outset, has stated as the correct standard for the appreciation +of the poet. It was, generally speaking, the prevailing tendency of +the time which preceded our own, and which has showed itself +particularly in physical science, to consider everything having life +as a mere accumulation of dead parts, to separate what exists only in +connection and cannot otherwise be conceived, instead of penetrating +to the central point and viewing all the parts as so many irradiations +from it. Hence nothing is so rare as a critic who can elevate himself +to the comprehensive contemplation of a work of art. Shakespeare's +compositions, from the very depth of purpose displayed in them, have +been especially liable to the misfortune of being misunderstood. +Besides, this prosaic species of criticism requires always that the +poetic form should be applied to the details of execution; but when +the plan of the piece is concerned, it never looks for more than the +logical connection of causes and effects, or some partial and trite +moral by way of application; and all that cannot be reconciled +therewith is declared superfluous, or even a pernicious appendage. On +these principles we must even strike out from the Greek tragedies most +of the choral songs, which also contribute nothing to the development +of the action, but are merely an harmonious echo of the impressions +the poet aims at conveying. In this they altogether mistake the rights +of poetry and the nature of the romantic drama, which, for the very +reason that it is and ought to be picturesque, requires richer +accompaniments and contrasts for its main groups. In all Art and +Poetry, but more especially in the romantic, the Fancy lays claims to +be considered as an independent mental power governed according to its +own laws. + +In an essay on _Romeo and Juliet_,[24] written a number of years ago, +I went through the whole of the scenes in their order and demonstrated +the inward necessity of each with reference to the whole; I showed why +such a particular circle of characters and relations was placed around +the two lovers; I explained the signification of the mirth here and +there scattered, and justified the use of the occasional heightening +given to the poetical colors. From all this it seemed to follow +unquestionably that, with the exception of a few criticisms, now +become unintelligible or foreign to the present taste (imitations of +the tone of society of that day), nothing could be taken away, nothing +added, nothing otherwise arranged, without mutilating and disfiguring +the perfect work. I would readily undertake to do the same for all the +pieces of Shakespeare's maturer years, but to do this would require a +separate book. Here I am reduced to confine my observations to tracing +his great designs with a rapid pencil; but still I must previously be +allowed to deliver my sentiments in a general manner on the subject of +his most eminent peculiarities. + +Shakespeare's knowledge of mankind has become proverbial: in this his +superiority is so great that he has justly been called the master of +the human heart. A readiness to remark the mind's fainter and +involuntary utterances, and the power to express with certainty the +meaning of these signs, as determined by experience and reflection, +constitute "the observer of men;" but tacitly to draw from these still +further conclusions and to arrange the separate observations according +to grounds of probability into a just and valid combination--this, it +may be said, is to know men. The distinguishing property of the +dramatic poet who is great in characterization, is something +altogether different here, and which, take it which way we will, +either includes in it this readiness and this acuteness, or dispenses +with both. It is the capability of transporting himself so completely +into every situation, even the most unusual, that he is enabled, as +plenipotentiary of the whole human race, without particular +instructions for each separate case, to act and speak in the name of +every individual. It is the power of endowing the creatures of his +imagination with such self-existent energy that they afterward act in +each conjuncture according to general laws of nature: the poet, in his +dreams, institutes, as it were, experiments which are received with as +much authority as if they had been made on waking objects. The +inconceivable element herein, and what moreover can never be learned, +is, that the characters appear neither to do nor to say anything on +the spectator's account merely; and yet that the poet, simply by means +of the exhibition, and without any subsidiary explanation, +communicates to his audience the gift of looking into the inmost +recesses of their minds. Hence Goethe has ingeniously compared +Shakespeare's characters to watches with crystalline plates and cases, +which, while they point out the hours as correctly as other watches, +enable us at the same time to perceive the inward springs whereby all +this is accomplished. + +Nothing, however, is more foreign to Shakespeare than a certain +anatomical style of exhibition, which laboriously enumerates all the +motives by which a man is determined to act in this or that particular +manner. This rage of supplying motives, the mania of so many modern +historians, might be carried at length to an extent which would +abolish everything like individuality, and resolve all character into +nothing but the effect of foreign or external influences, whereas we +know that it often announces itself most decidedly in earliest +infancy. After all, a man acts so because he is so. And what each man +is, that Shakespeare reveals to us most immediately: he demands and +obtains our belief even for what is singular, and deviates from the +ordinary course of nature. Never perhaps was there so comprehensive a +talent for characterization as Shakespeare. It not only grasps every +diversity of rank, age, and sex, down to the lispings of infancy; not +only do the king and the beggar, the hero and the pickpocket, the sage +and the idiot, speak and act with equal truthfulness; not only does he +transport himself to distant ages and foreign nations, and portray +with the greatest accuracy (a few apparent violations of costume +excepted) the spirit of the ancient Romans, of the French in the wars +with the English, of the English themselves during a great part of +their history, of the Southern Europeans (in the serious part of many +comedies), the cultivated society of the day, and the rude barbarism +of a Norman fore-time; his human characters have not only such depth +and individuality that they do not admit of being classed under common +names, and are inexhaustible even in conception: no, this Prometheus +not merely forms men, he opens the gates of the magical world of +spirits, calls up the midnight ghost, exhibits before us the witches +with their unhallowed rites, peoples the air with sportive fairies and +sylphs; and these beings, though existing only in the imagination, +nevertheless possess such truth and consistency that even with such +misshapen abortions as Caliban, he extorts the assenting conviction +that, were there such beings, they would so conduct themselves. In a +word, as he carries a bold and pregnant fancy into the kingdom of +nature, on the other hand he carries nature into the region of fancy +which lie beyond the confines of reality. We are lost in astonishment +at the close intimacy he brings us into with the extraordinary, the +wonderful, and the unheard-of. + +Pope and Johnson appear strangely to contradict each other, when the +first says, "all the characters of Shakespeare are individuals," and +the second, "they are species." And yet perhaps these opinions may +admit of reconciliation. Pope's expression is unquestionably the more +correct. A character which should be merely a personification of a +naked general idea could neither exhibit any great depth nor any great +variety. The names of genera and species are well known to be merely +auxiliaries for the understanding, that we may embrace the infinite +variety of nature in a certain order. The characters which Shakespeare +has so thoroughly delineated have undoubtedly a number of individual +peculiarities, but at the same time they possess a significance which +is not applicable to them alone: they generally supply materials for a +profound theory of their most prominent and distinguishing property. +But even with the above correction, this opinion must still have its +limitations. Characterization is merely one ingredient of the dramatic +art, and not dramatic poetry itself. It would be improper in the +extreme, if the poet were to draw our attention to superfluous traits +of character at a time when it ought to be his endeavor to produce +other impressions. Whenever the musical or the fanciful preponderates, +the characteristical necessarily falls into the background. Hence many +of the figures of Shakespeare exhibit merely external designations, +determined by the place which they occupy in the whole: they are like +secondary persons in a public procession, to whose physiognomy we +seldom pay much attention; their only importance is derived from the +solemnity of their dress and the duty in which they are engaged. +Shakespeare's messengers, for instance, are for the most part mere +messengers, and yet not common, but poetical messengers: the message +which they have to bring is the soul which suggests to them their +language. Other voices, too, are merely raised to pour forth these as +melodious lamentations or rejoicings, or to dwell in reflection on +what has taken place; and in a serious drama without chorus this must +always be more or less the case, if we would not have it prosaic. + +If Shakespeare deserves our admiration for his characters, he is +equally deserving of it for his exhibition of passion, taking this +word in its widest signification, as including every mental condition, +every tone, from indifference or familiar mirth to the wildest rage +and despair. He gives us the history of minds; he lays open to us, in +a single word, a whole series of their anterior states. His passions +do not stand at the same height, from first to last, as is the case +with so many tragic poets, who, in the language of Lessing, are +thorough masters of the legal style of love. He paints, with +inimitable veracity, the gradual advance from the first origin; "he +gives," as Lessing says, "a living picture of all the slight and +secret artifices by which a feeling steals into our souls, of all the +imperceptible advantages which it there gains, of all the stratagems +by which it makes every other passion subservient to itself, till it +becomes the sole tyrant of our desires and our aversions." Of all the +poets, perhaps, he alone has portrayed the mental diseases, +melancholy, delirium, lunacy, with such inexpressible and, in every +respect, definite truth, that the physician may enrich his +observations from them in the same manner as from real cases. + +And yet Johnson has objected to Shakespeare that his pathos is not +always natural and free from affectation. There are, it is true, +passages, though comparatively speaking very few, where his poetry +exceeds the bounds of actual dialogue, where a too soaring +imagination, a too luxuriant wit, rendered a complete dramatic +forgetfulness of himself impossible. With this exception, the censure +originated in a fanciless way of thinking, to which everything appears +unnatural that does not consort with its own tame insipidity. Hence an +idea has been formed of simple and natural pathos, which consists in +exclamations destitute of imagery and nowise elevated above everyday +life. But energetical passions electrify all the mental powers, and +will consequently, in highly-favored natures, give utterance to +themselves in ingenious and figurative expressions. It has been often +remarked that indignation makes a man witty; and as despair +occasionally breaks out into laughter, it may sometimes also give vent +to itself in antithetical comparisons. + +Besides, the rights of the poetical form have not been duly weighed. +Shakespeare, who was always sure of his power to excite, when he +wished, sufficiently powerful emotions, has occasionally, by indulging +in a freer play of fancy, purposely tempered the impressions when too +painful, and immediately introduced a musical softening of our +sympathy.[25] He had not those rude ideas of his art which many +moderns seem to have, as if the poet, like the clown in the proverb, +must strike twice on the same place. An ancient rhetorician delivered +a caution against dwelling too long on the excitation of pity; for +nothing, he said, dries so soon as tears; and Shakespeare acted +conformably to this ingenious maxim without having learned it. The +paradoxical assertion of Johnson that "Shakespeare had a greater +talent for comedy than tragedy, and that in the latter he has +frequently displayed an affected tone," is scarcely deserving of +lengthy notice. For its refutation, it is unnecessary to appeal to the +great tragical compositions of the poet, which, for overpowering +effect, leave far behind them almost everything that the stage has +seen besides; a few of their less celebrated scenes would be quite +sufficient. What to many readers might lend an appearance of truth to +this assertion are the verbal witticisms, that playing upon words, +which Shakespeare not unfrequently introduces into serious and sublime +passages and even into those also of a peculiarly pathetic nature. + +I have already stated the point of view in which we ought to consider +this sportive play upon words. I shall here, therefore, merely deliver +a few observations respecting the playing upon words in general, and +its poetical use. A thorough investigation would lead us too far from +our subject, and too deeply into considerations on the essence of +language, and its relation to poetry, or rhyme, etc. + +There is in the human mind a desire that language should exhibit the +object which it denotes, sensibly, by its very sound, which may be +traced even as far back as in the first origin of poetry. As, in the +shape in which language comes down to us, this is seldom perceptibly +the case, an imagination which has been powerfully excited is fond of +laying hold of any congruity in sound which may accidentally offer +itself, that by such means he may, for the nonce, restore the lost +resemblance between the word and the thing. For example, how common +was it and is it to seek in the name of a person, however arbitrarily +bestowed, a reference to his qualities and fortunes--to convert it +purposely into a significant name. Those who cry out against the play +upon words as an unnatural and affected invention, only betray their +own ignorance of original nature. A great fondness for it is always +evinced among children, as well as with nations of simple manners, +among whom correct ideas of the derivation and affinity of words have +not yet been developed, and do not, consequently, stand in the way of +this caprice. In Homer we find several examples of it; the Books of +Moses, the oldest written memorial of the primitive world, are, as is +well known, full of them. On the other hand, poets of a very +cultivated taste, like Petrarch, or orators, like Cicero, have +delighted in them. Whoever, in _Richard the Second_, is disgusted with +the affecting play of words of the dying John of Gaunt on his own +name, should remember that the same thing occurs in the _Ajax_ of +Sophocles. We do not mean to say that all playing upon words is on all +occasions to be justified. This must depend on the disposition of +mind, whether it will admit of such a play of fancy, and whether the +sallies, comparisons, and allusions, which lie at the bottom of them, +possess internal solidity. Yet we must not proceed upon the principle +of trying how the thought appears after it is deprived of the +resemblance in sound, any more than we are to endeavor to feel the +charm of rhymed versification after depriving it of its rhyme. The +laws of good taste on this subject must, moreover, vary with the +quality of the languages. In those which possess a great number of +homonymes, that is, words possessing the same, or nearly the same, +sound, though quite different in their derivation and signification, +it is almost more difficult to avoid, than to fall on such a verbal +play. It has, however, been feared, lest a door might be opened to +puerile witticism, if they were not rigorously proscribed. But I +cannot, for my part, find that Shakespeare had such an invincible and +immoderate passion for this verbal witticism. It is true, he sometimes +makes a most lavish use of this figure; at others, he has employed it +very sparingly; and at times (for example, in _Macbeth_) I do not +believe a vestige of it is to be found. Hence, in respect to the use +or the rejection of the play upon words, he must have been guided by +the measure of the objects and the different style in which they +required to be treated, and probably have followed here, as in +everything else, principles which, fairly examined, will bear a strict +examination. + +The objection that Shakespeare wounds our feelings by the open display +of the most disgusting moral odiousness, unmercifully harrows up the +mind, and tortures even our eyes by the exhibition of the most +insupportable and hateful spectacles, is one of greater and graver +importance. He has, in fact, never varnished over wild and +bloodthirsty passions with a pleasing exterior--never clothed crime +and want of principle with a false show of greatness of soul; and in +that respect he is every way deserving of praise. Twice he has +portrayed downright villains, and the masterly way in which he has +contrived to elude impressions of too painful a nature may be seen in +Iago and Richard the Third. I allow that the reading, and still more +the sight, of some of his pieces, is not advisable to weak nerves, any +more than was the _Eumenides_ of Æschylus; but is the poet, who can +reach an important object only by a bold and hazardous daring, to be +checked by considerations for such persons? If the effeminacy of the +present day is to serve as a general standard of what tragical +composition may properly exhibit to human nature, we shall be forced +to set very narrow limits indeed to art, and the hope of anything like +powerful effect must at once and forever be renounced. If we wish to +have a grand purpose, we must also wish to have the grand means, and +our nerves ought in some measure to accommodate themselves to painful +impressions, if, by way of requital, our mind is thereby elevated and +strengthened. The constant reference to a petty and puny race must +cripple the boldness of the poet. Fortunately for his art, Shakespeare +lived in an age extremely susceptible of noble and tender impressions, +but which had yet inherited enough of the firmness of a vigorous olden +time not to shrink with dismay from every strong and forcible +painting. We have lived to see tragedies of which the catastrophe +consists in the swoon of an enamored princess: if Shakespeare falls +occasionally into the opposite extreme, it is a noble error, +originating in the fulness of a gigantic strength. And this tragical +Titan, who storms the heavens and threatens to tear the world off its +hinges, who, more terrible than Æschylus, makes our hair stand on end +and congeals our blood with horror, possessed at the same time the +insinuating loveliness of the sweetest poesy; he toys with love like a +child, and his songs die away on the ear like melting sighs. He unites +in his soul the utmost elevation and the utmost depth; and the most +opposite and even apparently irreconcilable properties subsist in him +peaceably together. The world of spirits and nature have laid all +their treasures at his feet: in strength a demi-god, in profundity of +view a prophet, in all-seeing wisdom a guardian spirit of a higher +order, he lowers himself to mortals as if unconscious of his +superiority, and is as open and unassuming as a child. + +If the delineation of all his characters, separately considered, +is inimitably bold and correct, he surpasses even himself in so +combining and contrasting them that they serve to bring out one +anothers' peculiarities. This is the very perfection of dramatic +characterization: for we can never estimate a man's true worth if we +consider him altogether abstractedly by himself; we must see him in +his relations with others; and it is here that most dramatic poets are +deficient. Shakespeare makes each of his principal characters the +glass in which the others are reflected, and by like means enables us +to discover what could not be immediately revealed to us. What in +others is most profound, is with him but surface. Ill-advised should +we be were we always to take men's declarations respecting themselves +and others for sterling coin. Ambiguity of design with much propriety +he makes to overflow with the most praiseworthy principles; and sage +maxims are not infrequently put in the mouth of stupidity, to show how +easily such commonplace truisms may be acquired. Nobody ever painted +so truthfully as he has done the facility of self-deception, the half +self-conscious hypocrisy toward ourselves, with which even noble minds +attempt to disguise the almost inevitable influence of selfish motives +in human nature. This secret irony of the characterization commands +admiration as the profound abyss of acuteness and sagacity; but it is +the grave of enthusiasm. We arrive at it only after we have had the +misfortune to see human nature through and through, and after no +choice remains but to adopt the melancholy truth that "no virtue or +greatness is altogether pure and genuine," or the dangerous error that +"the highest perfection is attainable." Here we therefore may perceive +in the poet himself, notwithstanding his power to excite the most +fervent emotions, a certain cool indifference, but still the +indifference of a superior mind, which has run through the whole +sphere of human existence and survived feeling. + +The irony in Shakespeare has not merely a reference to the separate +characters, but frequently to the whole of the action. Most poets who +portray human events in a narrative or dramatic form themselves take a +part, and exact from their readers a blind approbation or condemnation +of whatever side they choose to support or oppose. The more zealous +this rhetoric is, the more certainly it fails of its effect. In every +case we are conscious that the subject itself is not brought +immediately before us, but that we view it through the medium of a +different way of thinking. When, however, by a dextrous manoeuvre, the +poet allows us an occasional glance at the less brilliant reverse of +the medal, then he makes, as it were, a sort of secret understanding +with the select circle of the more intelligent of his readers or +spectators; he shows them that he had previously seen and admitted the +validity of their tacit objections; that he himself is not tied down +to the represented subject, but soars freely above it; and that, if he +chose, he could unrelentingly annihilate the beautiful and +irresistibly attractive scenes which his magic pen has produced. No +doubt, wherever the proper tragic enters, everything like irony +immediately ceases; but from the avowed raillery of Comedy, to the +point where the subjection of mortal beings to an inevitable destiny +demands the highest degree of seriousness, there are a multitude of +human relations which unquestionably may be considered in an ironical +view, without confounding the eternal line of separation between good +and evil. This purpose is answered by the comic characters and scenes +which are interwoven with the serious parts in most of those pieces of +Shakespeare where romantic fables or historical events are made the +subject of a noble and elevating exhibition. Frequently an intentional +parody of the serious part is not to be mistaken in them; at other +times the connection is more arbitrary and loose, and the more so, the +more marvelous the invention of the whole and the more entirely it has +become a light reveling of the fancy. The comic intervals everywhere +serve to prevent the pastime from being converted into a business, to +preserve the mind in the possession of its serenity, and to keep off +that gloomy and inert seriousness which so easily steals upon the +sentimental, but not tragical, drama. Most assuredly Shakespeare did +not intend thereby, in defiance to his own better judgment, to humor +the taste of the multitude: for in various pieces, and throughout +considerable portions of others, and especially when the catastrophe +is approaching, and the mind consequently is more on the stretch and +no longer likely to give heed to any amusement which would distract +their attention, he has abstained from all such comic intermixtures. +It was also an object with him, that the clowns or buffoons should not +occupy a more important place than that which he had assigned them: he +expressly condemns the extemporizing with which they loved to enlarge +their parts.[26] Johnson founds the justification of the species of +drama in which seriousness and mirth are mixed, on this, that in real +life the vulgar is found close to the sublime, that the merry and the +sad usually accompany and succeed each other. But it does not follow +that, because both are found together, therefore they must not be +separable in the compositions of art. The observation is in other +respects just, and this circumstance invests the poet with a power to +adopt this procedure, because everything in the drama must be +regulated by the conditions of theatrical probability; but the mixture +of such dissimilar, and apparently contradictory, ingredients, in the +same works, can be justifiable only on principles reconcilable with +the views of art which I have already described. In the dramas of +Shakespeare the comic scenes are the antechamber of the poetry, where +the servants remain; these prosaic attendants must not raise their +voices so high as to deafen the speakers in the presence-chamber; +however, in those intervals when the ideal society has retired they +deserve to be listened to; their bold raillery, their presumption of +mockery, may afford many an insight into the situation and +circumstances of their masters. + +Shakespeare's comic talent is equally wonderful with that which he has +shown in the pathetic and tragic: it stands on an equal elevation, and +possesses equal extent and profundity; in all that I have hitherto +said, I only wished to guard against admitting that the former +preponderated. He is highly inventive in comic situations and motives: +it will be hardly possible to show whence he has taken any of them, +whereas, in the serious part of his dramas, he has generally laid hold +of some well-known story. His comic characterization is equally true, +various, and profound, with his serious. So little is he disposed to +caricature, that rather, it may be said, many of his traits are almost +too nice and delicate for the stage, that they can be made available +only by a great actor and fully understood only by an acute audience. +Not only has he delineated many kinds of folly, but even of sheer +stupidity has he contrived to give a most diverting and entertaining +picture. There is also in his pieces a peculiar species of the +farcical, which apparently seems to be introduced more arbitrarily, +but which, however, is founded on imitation of some actual custom. +This is the introduction of the merrymaker, the fool with his cap and +bells and motley dress, called more commonly in England "clown," who +appears in several comedies, though not in all, but, of the tragedies, +in _Lear_ alone, and who generally merely exercises his wit in +conversation with the principal persons, though he is also sometimes +incorporated into the action. In those times it was not only usual for +princes to have their court fools, but many distinguished families, +among their other retainers, kept such an exhilarating house-mate as a +good antidote against the insipidity and wearisomeness of ordinary +life, and as a welcome interruption of established formalities. Great +statesmen, and even ecclesiastics, did not consider it beneath their +dignity to recruit and solace themselves after important business with +the conversation of their fools; the celebrated Sir Thomas More had +his fool painted along with himself by Holbein. Shakespeare appears to +have lived immediately before the time when the custom began to be +abolished; in the English comic authors who succeeded him the clown is +no longer to be found. The dismissal of the fool has been extolled as +a proof of refinement; and our honest forefathers have been pitied for +taking delight in such a coarse and farcical amusement. For my part, I +am rather disposed to believe that the practice was dropped from the +difficulty in finding fools able to do full justice to their +parts:[27] on the other hand, reason, with all its conceit of itself, +has become too timid to tolerate such bold irony; it is always careful +lest the mantle of its gravity should be disturbed in any of its +folds; and rather than allow a privileged place to folly beside +itself, it has unconsciously assumed the part of the ridiculous; but, +alas! a heavy and cheerless ridicule.[28] It would be easy to make a +collection of the excellent sallies and biting sarcasms which have +been preserved of celebrated court fools. It is well known that they +frequently told such truths to princes as are never now told to +them.[29] Shakespeare's fools, along with somewhat of an overstraining +for wit, which cannot altogether be avoided when wit becomes a +separate profession, have for the most part an incomparable humor and +an infinite abundance of intellect, enough indeed to supply a whole +host of ordinary wise men. + +I have still a few observations to make on the diction and +versification of our poet. The language is here and there somewhat +obsolete, but on the whole much less so than in most of the +contemporary writers--a sufficient proof of the goodness of his +choice. Prose had as yet been but little cultivated, as the learned +generally wrote in Latin--a favorable circumstance for the dramatic +poet; for what has he to do with the scientific language of books? He +had not only read, but studied, the earlier English poets; but he drew +his language immediately from life itself, and he possessed a masterly +skill in blending the dialogical element with the highest poetical +elevation. I know not what certain critics mean, when they say that +Shakespeare is frequently ungrammatical. To make good their assertion, +they must prove that similar constructions never occur in his +contemporaries, the direct contrary of which can, however, be easily +shown. In no language is everything determined on principle; much is +always left to the caprice of custom, and if this has since changed, +is the poet to be made answerable for it? The English language had not +then attained to that correct insipidity which has been introduced +into the more recent literature of the country, to the prejudice, +perhaps, of its originality. As a field when first brought under the +plough produces, along with the fruitful shoots, many luxuriant weeds, +so the poetical diction of the day ran occasionally into extravagance, +but an extravagance originating in the exuberance of its vigor. We may +still perceive traces of awkwardness, but nowhere of a labored and +spiritless display of art. In general, Shakespeare's style yet remains +the very best model, both in the vigorous and sublime, and the +pleasing and tender. In his sphere he has exhausted all the means and +appliances of language. On all he has impressed the stamp of his +mighty spirit. His images and figures, in their unsought, nay, +uncapricious singularity, have often a sweetness altogether peculiar. +He becomes occasionally obscure from too great fondness for compressed +brevity; but still, the labor of poring over Shakespeare's lines will +invariably meet an ample requital. + +The verse in all his plays is generally the rhymeless iambic of ten or +eleven syllables, only occasionally intermixed with rhymes, but more +frequently alternating with prose. No one piece is written entirely in +prose; for even in those which approach the most to the pure Comedy, +there is always something added which gives them a more poetical hue +than usually belongs to this species. Many scenes are wholly in prose, +in others verse and prose succeed each other alternately. This can +appear an impropriety only in the eyes of those who are accustomed to +consider the lines of a drama like so many soldiers drawn up rank and +file on a parade, with the same uniform, arms, and accoutrements, so +that when we see one or two we may represent to ourselves thousands as +being every way like them. + +In the use of verse and prose Shakespeare observes very nice +distinctions according to the ranks of the speakers, but still more +according to their characters and disposition of mind. A noble +language, elevated above the usual tone, is suitable only to a certain +decorum of manners, which is thrown over both vices and virtues and +which does not even wholly disappear amidst the violence of passion. +If this is not exclusively possessed by the higher ranks, it still, +however, belongs naturally more to them than to the lower; and +therefore, in Shakespeare, dignity and familiarity of language, +poetry, and prose, are in this manner distributed among the +characters. Hence his tradesmen, peasants, soldiers, sailors, +servants, but more especially his fools and clowns, speak, almost +without exception, in the tone of their actual life. However, inward +dignity of sentiment, wherever it is possessed, invariably displays +itself with a nobleness of its own, and stands not in need, for that +end, of the artificial elegancies of education and custom; it is a +universal right of man, of the highest as well as the lowest; and +hence also, in Shakespeare, the nobility of nature and morality is +ennobled above the artificial nobility of society. Not infrequently +also he makes the very same persons express themselves at times in the +sublimest language, and at others in the lowest; and this inequality +is in like manner founded in truth. Extraordinary situations, which +intensely occupy the head and throw mighty passions into play, give +elevation and tension to the soul: it collects all its powers and +exhibits an unusual energy, both in its operations and in its +communications by language. On the other hand, even the greatest men +have their moments of remissness, when to a certain degree they forget +the dignity of their character in unreserved relaxation. This very +tone of mind is necessary before they can receive amusement from the +jokes of others, or, what surely cannot dishonor even a hero, from +passing jokes themselves. Let any person, for example, go carefully +through the part of Hamlet. How bold and powerful the language of his +poetry when he conjures the ghost of his father, when he spurs himself +on to the bloody deed, when he thunders into the soul of his mother! +How he lowers his tone down to that of common life, when he has to do +with persons whose station demands from him such a line of conduct; +when he makes game of Polonius and the courtiers, instructs the +player, and even enters into the jokes of the grave-digger. Of all the +poet's serious leading characters there is none so rich in wit and +humor as Hamlet; hence he it is of all of them that makes the greatest +use of the familiar style. Others, again, never do fall into it; +either because they are constantly surrounded by the pomp of rank, or +because a uniform seriousness is natural to them; or, in short, +because through the whole piece they are under the dominion of a +passion calculated to excite, and not, like the sorrow of Hamlet, to +depress the mind. The choice of the one form or the other is +everywhere so appropriate, and so much founded in the nature of the +thing, that I will venture to assert, even where the poet in the very +same speech makes the speaker leave prose for poetry, or the converse, +this could not be altered without danger of injuring or destroying +some beauty or other. The blank verse has this advantage, that its +tone may be elevated or lowered; it admits of approximation to the +familiar style of conversation, and never forms such an abrupt +contrast as that, for example, between plain prose and the rhyming +Alexandrines. + +Shakespeare's iambics are sometimes highly harmonious and +full-sounding; always varied and suitable to the subject, at one time +distinguished by ease and rapidity, at another they move along with +ponderous energy. They never fall out of the dialogical character, +which may always be traced even in the continued discourses of +individuals, excepting when the latter run into the lyrical. They are +a complete model of the dramatic use of this species of verse, which, +in English, since Milton, has been also used in epic poetry; but in +the latter it has assumed a quite different turn. Even the +irregularities of Shakespeare's versification are expressive; a verse +broken off, or a sudden change of rhythmus, coincides with some pause +in the progress of the thought, or the entrance of another mental +disposition. As a proof that he purposely violated the mechanical +rules, from a conviction that a too symmetrical versification does not +suit with the drama, and, on the stage has in the long run a tendency +to lull the spectators to sleep, we may observe that his earlier +pieces are the most diligently versified, and that, in the later +works, when through practice he must have acquired a greater facility, +we find the strongest deviations from the regular structure of the +verse. As it served with him merely to make the poetical elevation +perceptible, he therefore claimed the utmost possible freedom in the +use of it. + +The views or suggestions of feeling by which he was guided in the use +of rhyme may likewise be traced with almost equal certainty. Not +infrequently scenes, or even single speeches, close with a few rhyming +lines, for the purpose of more strongly marking the division, and of +giving it more rounding. This was injudiciously imitated by the +English tragic poets of a later date; they suddenly elevated the tone +in the rhymed lines, as if the person began all at once to speak in +another language. The practice was welcomed by the actors from its +serving as a signal for clapping when they made their exit. In +Shakespeare, on the other hand, the transitions are more easy: all +changes of forms are brought about insensibly, and as if of +themselves. Moreover, he is generally fond of heightening a series of +ingenious and antithetical sayings by the use of rhyme. We find other +passages in continued rhyme, where solemnity and theatrical pomp were +suitable, as, for instance, in the mask,[30] as it is called, in _The +Tempest_ and in the play introduced in _Hamlet_. Of other pieces, for +instance, the _Midsummer Night's Dream_, and _Romeo and Juliet_, the +rhymes form a considerable part; either because he may have wished to +give them a glowing color, or because the characters appropriately +utter in a more musical tone their complaints or suits of love. In +these cases he has even introduced rhymed strophes, which approach to +the form of the sonnet, then usual in England. The assertion of +Malone, that Shakespeare in his youth was fond of rhyme, but that he +afterward rejected it, is sufficiently refuted by his own chronology +of the poet's works. In some of the earliest, for instance in the +second and third part of _Henry the Sixth_, there are hardly any +rhymes; in what is stated to be his last piece, _Twelfth Night, or +What You Will_, and in _Macbeth_, which is proved to have been +composed under the reign of King James, we find them in no +inconsiderable number. Even in the secondary matters of form +Shakespeare was not guided by humor and accident, but, like a genuine +artist, acted invariably on good and solid grounds. This we might also +show of the kinds of verse which he least frequently used (for +instance, of the rhyming verses of seven and eight syllables), were we +not afraid of dwelling too long on merely technical peculiarities. + +In England the manner of handling rhyming verse, and the opinion as to +its harmony and elegance, have, in the course of two centuries, +undergone a much greater change than is the case with the rhymeless +iambic or blank verse. In the former, Dryden and Pope have become +models; these writers have communicated the utmost smoothness to +rhyme, but they have also tied it down to a harmonious uniformity. A +foreigner, to whom antiquated and new are the same, may perhaps feel +with greater freedom the advantages of the more ancient manner. +Certain it is, the rhyme of the present day, from the too great +confinement of the couplet, is unfit for the drama. We must not +estimate the rhyme of Shakespeare by the mode of subsequent times, but +by a comparison with his contemporaries or with Spenser. The +comparison will, without doubt, turn out to his advantage. Spenser is +often diffuse; Shakespeare, though sometimes hard, is always brief and +vigorous. He has more frequently been induced by the rhyme to leave +out something necessary than to insert anything superfluous. Many of +his rhymes, however, are faultless: ingenious with attractive ease, +and rich without false brilliancy. The songs interspersed (those, I +mean, of the poet himself) are generally sweetly playful and +altogether musical; in imagination, while we merely read them, we hear +their melody. + +The whole of Shakespeare's productions bear the certain stamp of his +original genius, but yet no writer was ever further removed from +everything like a mannerism derived from habit or personal +peculiarities. Rather is he, such is the diversity of tone and color +which vary according to the quality of his subjects he assumes, a very +Proteus. Each of his compositions is like a world of its own, moving +in its own sphere. They are works of art, finished in one pervading +style, which revealed the freedom and judicious choice of their +author. If the formation of a work throughout, even in its minutest +parts, in conformity with a leading idea; if the domination of one +animating spirit over all the means of execution, deserves the name of +correctness (and this, excepting in matters of grammar, is the only +proper sense of the term); we shall then, after allowing to +Shakespeare all the higher qualities which demand our admiration, be +also compelled, in most cases, to concede to him the title of a +correct poet. + +It would be in the highest degree instructive to follow, if we could, +in his career step by step, an author who at once founded and carried +his art to perfection, and to go through his works in the order of +time. But, with the exception of a few fixed points, which at length +have been obtained, all the necessary materials for this are still +wanting. The diligent Malone has, indeed, made an attempt to arrange +the plays of Shakespeare in chronological order; but he himself gives +out only the result of his labors as hypothetical, and it could not +possibly be attended with complete success, since he excluded from his +inquiry a considerable number of pieces which have been ascribed to +the poet, though rejected as spurious by all the editors since Rowe, +but which, in my opinion, must, if not wholly, at least in great +measure be attributed to him. + + + + +_FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL_ + + * * * * * + +INTRODUCTION TO LUCINDA + +By CALVIN THOMAS + +Professor of Germanic Languages and Literatures, Columbia University + +Friedrich Schlegel's _Lucinda_, published in 1799, was an explosion of +youthful radicalism--a rather violent explosion which still +reverberates in the histories of German Romanticism. It is a book +about the metaphysics of love and marriage, the emancipation of the +flesh, the ecstasies and follies of the enamored state, the nature and +the rights of woman, and other such matters of which the world was +destined to hear a great deal during the nineteenth century. Not by +accident, but by intention, the little book was shocking, formless, +incoherent--a riot of the ego without beginning, middle, or end. Now +and then it passed the present limits of the printable in its +exploitation of the improper and the unconventional. + +Yet the book was by no means the wanton freak of a prurient +imagination; it had a serious purpose and was believed by its author +to present the essentials of a new and beautiful theory of life, art +and religion. The great Schleiermacher, one of the profoundest of +German theologians and an eloquent friend of religion, called +_Lucinda_ a "divine book" and its author a "priest of love and +wisdom." "Everything in this work," he declared, "is at once human and +divine; a magic air of divinity rises from its deep springs and +permeates the whole temple." Today no man in his senses would praise +the book in such terms. Yet, with all its crudities of style and its +aberrations of taste, _Lucinda_ reveals, not indeed the whole form and +pressure of the epoch that gave it birth, but certain very interesting +aspects of it. + +[Illustration: #FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL# E. HADER] + +Then, too, it marks a curious stage in the development of the +younger Schlegel, a really profound thinker and one of the notable men +of his day. This explains why a considerable portion of the much +discussed book is here presented for the first time in an English +dress. + +The earliest writings of Friedrich Schlegel--he was born in +1772--relate to Greek literature, a field which he cultivated with +enthusiasm and with ample learning. In particular he was interested in +what his Greek poets and philosophers had to say of the position of +women in society; of the _hetairai_ as the equal and inspiring +companions of men; of a more or less refined sexual love, untrammeled +by law and convention, as the basis of a free, harmonious and +beautiful existence. Among other things, he seems to have been much +impressed by Plato's notion that the _genus homo_ was one before it +broke up into male and female, and that sexual attraction is a desire +to restore the lost unity. In a very learned essay _On Diotima_, +published in 1797--Diotima is the woman of whose relation to Socrates +we get a glimpse in Plato's _Symposium_--there is much that +foreshadows _Lucinda_. Let two or three sentences suffice. "What is +uglier than the overloaded femininity, what is more loathesome than +the exaggerated masculinity, that rules in our customs, our opinions, +and even in our better art?" "Precisely the tyrannical vehemence of +the man, the flabby self-surrender of the woman, is in itself an ugly +exaggeration." "Only the womanhood that is independent, only the +manhood that is gentle, is good and beautiful." + +In 1796 Friedrich Schlegel joined his brother at Jena, where Fichte +was then expounding his philosophy. It was a system of radical +idealism, teaching that the only reality is the absolute Ego, whose +self-assertion thus becomes the fundamental law of the world. The +Fichtean system had not yet been fully worked out in its metaphysical +bearings, but the strong and engaging personality of its author gave +it, for a little while, immense prestige and influence. To Friedrich +Schlegel it seemed the gospel of a new era sort of French Revolution +in philosophy. Indeed he proclaimed that the three greatest events of +the century were the French Revolution, Fichte's philosophy, and +Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_. This last, which appeared in 1796 and +contained obvious elements of autobiography, together with poems and +disquisitions on this and that, was admired by him beyond all measure. +He saw in it the exemplar and the program of a wonderful new art which +he proposed to call "Romantic Poetry." + +But gray theory would never have begotten _Lucinda_. Going to Berlin +in 1797, Schlegel made the acquaintance of Dorothea Veit, daughter of +Moses Mendelsohn and wife of a Berlin banker. She was nine years his +senior. A strong attachment grew up between them, and presently the +lady was persuaded to leave her husband and become the paramour of +Schlegel. Even after the divorce was obtained Schlegel refused for +some time to be married in church, believing that he had a sort of +duty to perform in asserting the rights of passion over against social +convention. For several years the pair lived in wild wedlock before +they were regularly married. In 1808 they both joined the Catholic +Church, and from that time on nothing more was heard of Friedrich +Schlegel's radicalism. He came to hold opinions which were for the +most part the exact opposite of those he had held in his youth. The +vociferous friend of individual liberty became a reactionary champion +of authority. Of course he grew ashamed of _Lucinda_ and excluded it +from his collected works. + +Such was the soil in which the naughty book grew. It was an era of lax +ideas regarding the marriage tie. Wilhelm Schlegel married a divorced +woman who was destined in due time to transfer herself without legal +formalities to Schelling. Goethe had set the example by his conscience +marriage with Christiane Vulpius. It remains only to be said that the +most of Friedrich Schlegel's intimates, including his brother Wilhelm, +advised against the publication of _Lucinda_. But here, as in the +matter of his marriage, the author felt that he had a duty to +perform: it was necessary to declare independence of Mrs. Grundy's +tyranny and shock people for their own good. But the reader of today +will feel that the worst shortcomings of the book are not its +immoralities, but its sins against art. + +It will be observed that while _Lucinda_ was called by its author a +"novel," it hardly deserves that name. There is no story, no +development of a plot. The book consists of disconnected glimpses in +the form of letters, disquisitions, rhapsodies, conversations, etc., +each with a more or less suggestive heading. Two of these +sections--one cannot call them chapters--are omitted in the +translation, namely, "Allegory of Impudence" and, "Apprenticeship of +Manhood." + + + + +LUCINDA (1799) + +By FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL BERNARD THOMAS + +PROLOGUE + +Smiling with emotion Petrarch opens the collection of his immortal +romanzas with a prefatory survey. The clever Boccaccio talks with +flattering courtesy to all women, both at the beginning and at the end +of his opulent book. The great Cervantes too, an old man in agony, but +still genial and full of delicate wit, drapes the motley spectacle of +his lifelike writings with the costly tapestry of a preface, which in +itself is a beautiful and romantic painting. + +Uproot a stately plant from its fertile, maternal soil, and there will +still cling lovingly to it much that can seem superfluous only to a +niggard. + +But what shall my spirit bestow upon its offspring, which, like its +parent, is as poor in poesy as it is rich in love? + +Just one word, a parting trope: It is not alone the royal eagle who +may despise the croaking of the raven; the swan, too, is proud and +takes no note of it. Nothing concerns him except to keep clean the +sheen of his white pinions. He thinks only of nestling against Leda's +bosom without hurting her, and of breathing forth into song everything +that is mortal within him. + +[Illustration: #THE CREATION# _From the Painting by Moritz von +Schwind_] + +CONFESSIONS OF AN AWKWARD MAN + +JULIUS TO LUCINDA + +Human beings and what they want and do, seemed to me, when I thought +of it, like gray, motionless figures; but in the holy solitude all +around me everything was light and color. A fresh, warm breath of life +and love fanned me, rustling and stirring in all the branches of the +verdant grove. I gazed and enjoyed it all, the rich green, the white +blossoms and the golden fruit. And in my mind's eye I saw, too, in +many forms, my one and only Beloved, now as a little girl, now as a +young lady in the full bloom and energy of love and womanhood, and now +as a dignified mother with her demure babe in her arms. I breathed the +spring and I saw clearly all about me everlasting youth. Smiling I +said to myself: "Even if this world is not the best and most useful of +places, it is certainly the most beautiful." + +From this feeling or thought nothing could have turned me, neither +general despair nor personal fear. For I believed that the deep +secrets of nature were being revealed to me; I felt that everything +was immortal and that death was only a pleasant illusion. But I really +did not think very much about it, since I was not particularly in a +mood for mental synthesis and analysis. But I gladly lost myself in +all those blendings and intertwinings of joy and pain from which +spring the spice of life and the flower of feeling--spiritual pleasure +as well as sensual bliss. A subtle fire flowed through my veins. What +I dreamed was not of kissing you, not of holding you in my arms; it +was not only the wish to relieve the tormenting sting of my desire, +and to cool the sweet fire by gratification. It was not for your lips +that I longed, or for your eyes, or for your body; no, it was a +romantic confusion of all of these things, a marvelous mingling of +memories and desires. All the mysteries of caprice in man and woman +seemed to hover about me, when suddenly in my solitude your real +presence and the glowing rapture in your face completely set me afire. +Wit and ecstasy now began their alternating play, and were the common +pulse of our united life. There was no less abandon than religion in +our embrace. I besought you to yield to my frenzy and implored you to +be insatiable. And yet with calm presence of mind I watched for the +slightest sign of joy in you, so that not one should escape me to +impair the harmony. I not only enjoyed, but I felt and enjoyed the +enjoyment. + +You are so extraordinarily clever, dearest Lucinda, that you have +doubtless long ere this begun to suspect that this is all nothing but +a beautiful dream. And so, alas, it is; and I should indeed feel very +disconsolate about it if I could not cherish the hope that at least a +part of it may soon be realized. The truth of the matter is this: Not +long ago I was standing by the window--how long I do not know, for +along with the other rules of reason and morality, I completely forgot +about the lapse of time. Well, I was standing by the window and +looking out into the open; the morning certainly deserves to be called +beautiful, the air is still and quite warm, and the verdure here +before me is fresh. And even as the wide land undulates in hills and +dales, so the calm, broad, silvery river winds along in great bends +and sweeps, until it and the lover's fantasy, cradled upon it like the +swan, pass away into the distance and lose themselves in the +immeasurable. My vision doubtless owes the grove and its southern +color-effect to the huge mass of flowers here beside me, among which I +see a large number of oranges. All the rest is readily explained by +psychology. It was an illusion, dear friend, all an illusion, all +except that, not long ago, I was standing, by the window and doing +nothing, and that I am now sitting here and doing something--something +which is perhaps little more than nothing, perhaps even less. + +I had written thus far to you about the things I had said to myself, +when, in the midst of my tender thoughts and profound feelings about +the dramatic connection of our embraces, a coarse and unpleasant +occurrence interrupted me. I was just on the point of unfolding to you +in clear and precise periods the exact and straightforward history of +our frivolities and of my dulness. I was going to expound to you, step +by step, in accordance with natural laws, the misunderstandings that +attack the hidden centre of the loveliest existence, and to confess to +you the manifold effects of my awkwardness. I was about to describe +the apprenticeship of my manhood, a period which, taken as a whole or +in parts, I can never look back upon without a great deal of inward +amusement, a little melancholy, and considerable self-satisfaction. +Still, as a refined lover and writer, I will endeavor to refashion the +coarse occurrence and adapt it to my purpose. For me and for this +book, however, for my love of it and for its inner development, there +is no better adaptation of means to ends than this, namely, that right +at the start I begin by abolishing what we call orderly arrangement, +keep myself entirely aloof from it, frankly claiming and asserting the +right to a charming confusion. This is all the more necessary, +inasmuch as the material which our life and love offers to my spirit +and to my pen is so incessantly progressive and so inflexibly +systematic. If the form were also of that character, this, in its way, +unique letter would then acquire an intolerable unity and monotony, +and would no longer produce the desired effect, namely, to fashion and +complete a most lovely chaos of sublime harmonies and interesting +pleasures. So I use my incontestable right to a confused style by +inserting here, in the wrong place, one of the many incoherent sheets +which I once filled with rubbish, and which you, good creature, +carefully preserved without my knowing it. It was written in a mood of +impatient longing, due to my not finding you where I most surely +expected to find you--in your room, on our sofa--in the haphazard +words suggested by the pen you had lately been using. + +The selection is not difficult. For since, among the dreamy fancies +which are here confided to you in permanent letters, the recollection +of this most beautiful world is the most significant, and has a +certain sort of resemblance to what they call thought, I choose in +preference to anything else a dithyrambic fantasy on the most lovely +of situations. For once we know to a certainty that we live in a most +beautiful world, the next need is obvious, namely, to inform ourselves +fully, either through ourselves or through others, about the most +lovely situation in this most beautiful world. + + +DITHYRAMBIC FANTASY ON THE LOVELIEST OF SITUATIONS + +A big tear falls upon the holy sheet which I found here instead of +you. How faithfully and how simply you have sketched it, the old and +daring idea of my dearest and most intimate purpose! In you it has +grown up, and in this mirror I do not shrink from loving and admiring +myself. Only here I see myself in harmonious completeness. For your +spirit, too, stands distinct and perfect before me, not as an +apparition which appears and fades away again, but as one of the forms +that endure forever. It looks at me joyously out of its deep eyes and +opens its arms to embrace my spirit. The holiest and most evanescent +of those delicate traits and utterances of the soul, which to one who +does not know the highest seem like bliss itself, are merely the +common atmosphere of our spiritual breath and life. + +The words are weak and vague. Furthermore, in this throng of +impressions I could only repeat anew the one inexhaustible feeling of +our original harmony. A great future beckons me on into the +immeasurable; each idea develops a countless progeny. The extremes of +unbridled gayety and of quiet presentiment live together within me. I +remember everything, even the griefs, and all my thoughts that have +been and are to be bestir themselves and arise before me. The blood +rushes wildly through my swollen veins, my mouth thirsts for the +contact of your lips, and my fancy seeks vainly among the many forms +of joy for one which might at last gratify my desire and give it rest. +And then again I suddenly and sadly bethink me of the gloomy time when +I was always waiting without hope, and madly loving without knowing +it; when my innermost being overflowed with a vague longing, which it +breathed forth but rarely in half-suppressed sighs. + +Oh, I should have thought it all a fairy-tale that there could be such +joy, such love as I now feel, and such a woman, who could be my most +tender Beloved, my best companion, and at the same time a perfect +friend. For it was in friendship especially that I sought for what I +wanted, and for what I never hoped to find in any woman. In you I +found it all, and more than I could wish for; but you are so unlike +the rest. Of what custom or caprice calls womanly, you know nothing. +The womanliness of your soul, aside from minor peculiarities, consists +in its regarding life and love as the same thing. For you all feeling +is infinite and eternal; you recognize no separations, your being is +an indivisible unity. That is why you are so serious and so joyous, +why you regard everything in such a large and indifferent way; that is +why you love me, all of me, and will surrender no part of me to the +state, to posterity, or to manly pleasures. I am all yours; we are +closest to each other and we understand each other. You accompany me +through all the stages of manhood, from the utmost wantonness to the +most refined spirituality. In you alone I first saw true pride and +true feminine humility. + +The most extreme suffering, if it is only surrounded, without +separating us, would seem to me nothing but a charming antithesis to +the sublime frivolity of our marriage. Why should we not take the +harshest whim of chance for an excellent jest and a most frolicsome +caprice, since we, like our love, are immortal? I can no longer say +_my_ love and _your_ love; they are both alike in their perfect +mutuality. Marriage is the everlasting unity and alliance of our +spirits, not only for what we call this world and that world, but for +the one, true, indivisible, nameless, endless world of our entire +being, so long as we live. Therefore, if it seemed the proper time, I +would drain with you a cup of poison, just as gladly and just as +easily as that last glass of champagne we drank together, when I said: +"And so let us drink out the rest of our lives." With these words I +hurriedly quaffed the wine, before its noble spirit ceased to sparkle. +And so I say again, let us live and love. I know you would not wish to +survive me; you would rather follow your dying husband into his +coffin. Gladly and lovingly would you descend into the burning abyss, +even as the women of India do, impelled by a mad law, the cruel, +constraining purpose of which desecrates and destroys the most +delicate sanctities of the will. + +On the other side, perhaps, longing will be more completely realized. +I often wonder over it; every thought, and whatever else is fashioned +within us, seems to be complete in itself, as single and indivisible +as a person. One thing crowds out another, and that which just now was +near and present soon sinks back into obscurity. And then again come +moments of sudden and universal clarity, when several such spirits of +the inner world completely fuse together into a wonderful wedlock, and +many a forgotten bit of our ego shines forth in a new light and even +illuminates the darkness of the future with its bright lustre. As it +is in a small way, so is it also, I think, in a large way. That which +we call a life is for the complete, inner, immortal man only a single +idea, an indivisible feeling. And for him there come, too, moments of +the profoundest and fullest consciousness, when all lives fall +together and mingle and separate in a different way. The time is +coming when we two shall behold in one spirit that we are blossoms of +one plant, or petals of one flower. We shall then know with a smile +that what we now call merely hope was really memory. + +Do you know how the first seed of this idea germinated in my soul +before you and took root in yours? Thus does the religion of love +weave our love ever and ever more closely and firmly together, just as +a child, like an echo, doubles the happiness of its gentle parents. + +Nothing can part us; and certainly any separation would only draw me +more powerfully to you. I bethink me how at our last embrace, you +vehemently resisting, I burst into simultaneous tears and laughter. I +tried to calm myself, and in a sort of bewilderment I would not +believe that I was separated from you until the surrounding objects +convinced me of it against my will. But then my longing grew again +irresistible, until on its wings I sank back into your arms. Suppose +words or a human being to create a misunderstanding between us! The +poignant grief would be transient and quickly resolve itself into +complete harmony. How could separation separate us, when presence +itself is to us, as it were, too present? We have to cool and mitigate +the consuming fire with jests, and thus for us the most witty of the +forms and situations of joy is also the most beautiful. One among all +is at once the wittiest and the loveliest: when we exchange rôles and +with childish delight try to see who can best imitate the other; +whether you succeed best with the tender vehemence of a man, or I with +the yielding devotion of a woman. But, do you know, this sweet game +has for me quite other charms than its own. It is not merely the +delight of exhaustion or the anticipation of revenge. I see in it a +wonderful and profoundly significant allegory of the development of +man and woman into complete humanity. * * * + + * * * * * + +That was my dithyrambic fantasy on the loveliest situation in the +loveliest of worlds. I know right well what you thought of it and how +you took it at that time. And I think I know just as well what you +will think of it and how you will take it here, here in this little +book, in which you expect to find genuine history, plain truth and +calm reason; yes, even morality, the charming morality of love. "How +can a man wish to write anything which it is scarcely permissible to +talk about, which ought only to be felt?" I replied: "If a man feels +it, he must wish to talk about it, and what a man wishes to talk about +he may write." + +I wanted first to demonstrate to you that there exists in the original +and essential nature of man a certain awkward enthusiasm which likes +to utter boldly that which is delicate and holy, and sometimes falls +headlong over its own honest zeal and speaks a word that is divine to +the point of coarseness. + +This apology would indeed save me, but perhaps only at the enormous +expense of my manhood itself; for whatever you may think of my manhood +in particular, you have nevertheless a great deal against the sex in +general. Meantime I will by no means make common cause with them, but +will rather excuse and defend my liberty and audacity by means of the +example of the little innocent Wilhelmina, since she too is a lady +whom I love most tenderly. So I will straightway attempt a little +sketch of her character. + +SKETCH OF LITTLE WILHELMINA + +When one regards the remarkable child, not from the viewpoint of any +one-sided theory, but, as is proper, in a large, impartial way, one +can boldly say--and it is perhaps the best thing one could possibly +say of her--that for her years she is the cleverest person of her +time. And that is indeed saying a great deal; for how seldom do we +find harmonious culture in people two years old? The strongest of the +many strong proofs of her inward perfection is her serene +self-complacency. After she has eaten she always spreads both her +little arms out on the table, and resting her cunning head on them +with amusing seriousness, she makes big eyes and casts cute glances at +the family all around her. Then she straightens up and with the most +vivid expression of irony on her face, smiles at her own cuteness and +our inferiority. She is full of buffoonery and has a nice +appreciation of it. When I imitate her gestures, she immediately +copies my imitation; thus we have created a mimic language of our own +and make each other understand by means of pantomime hieroglyphics. + +For poetry, I think, she has far more inclination than for philosophy; +so also she likes to ride better than to walk, which last she does +only in case of necessity. The ugly cacophony of our mother-tongue +here in the north melts on her tongue into the sweet and mellow +euphony of Italian and Hindu speech. She is especially fond of rhymes, +as of everything else that is beautiful; she never grows tired of +saying and singing over and over again to herself, one after the +other, all her favorite little verses--as it were, a classic selection +of her little pleasures. Poetry binds the blossoms of all things +together into a light garland, and so little Wilhelmina talks in rhyme +about regions, times, events, persons, toys and things to eat--all +mixed together in a romantic chaos, every word a picture. And she does +all that without any qualifications or artistic transitions, which +after all only aid the understanding and impede the free flight of the +fancy. + +For her fancy everything in nature is alive and animate. I often +recall with pleasure the first time she ever saw and felt of a doll. +She was not more than a year old. A divine smile lighted up her little +face, as she pressed an affectionate kiss on the painted wooden lips. +Surely there lies deep in the nature of man an impulse to eat anything +he loves, to lift to his mouth every new object and there, if +possible, reduce it to its original, constituent parts. A wholesome +thirst for knowledge impels him to seize the object, penetrate into +its interior and bite it to pieces. On the other hand, touching stops +at the surface, while grasping affords only imperfect, mediate +knowledge. Nevertheless it is a very interesting spectacle, when a +bright child catches sight of another child, to watch her feel of it +and strive to orient herself by means of those antennae of the reason. +The strange baby creeps quietly away and hides himself, while the +little philosopher follows him up and goes busily on with her manual +investigation. + +But, to be sure, mind, wit and originality are just as rare in +children as in adults. All this, however, does not belong here, and is +leading me beyond the bounds of my purpose. For this sketch proposes +merely to portray an ideal, an ideal which I would ever keep before my +eyes, so that in this little artistic volume of beautiful and elegant +philosophy I may not wander away from the delicate line of propriety; +and so that you will forgive me in advance for the audacious liberties +that I am going to take, or at least you will be able to judge them +from a higher viewpoint. + +Am I wrong, think you, in seeking for morality in children--for +delicacy and prettiness of thought and word? + +Now look! Dear little Wilhelmina often finds inexpressible delight in +lying on her back and kicking her little legs in the air, unconcerned +about her clothes or about the judgment of the world. If Wilhelmina +does that, what is there that I may not do, since I, by Heaven, am a +man and under no obligation to be more modest than this most modest of +all feminine creatures? Oh, enviable freedom from prejudice! Do you, +too, dear friend, cast it from you, all the remnants of false modesty; +just as I have often torn off your odious clothes and scattered them +about in lovely anarchy. And if, perhaps, this little romance of my +life should seem to you too wild, just think to yourself: He is only a +child--and take his innocent wantonness with motherly forbearance and +let him caress you. + +If you will not be too particular about the plausibility and inner +significance of an allegory, and are prepared for as much awkwardness +in it as one might expect in the confessions of an awkward man, +provided only that the costume is correct, I should like to relate to +you here one of my waking dreams, inasmuch as it leads to the same +result as my sketch of little Wilhelmina.[31] + +AN IDYL OF IDLENESS + +"Behold, I am my own teacher, and a god hath planted all sorts of +melodies in my soul." This I may boldly say, now that I am not talking +about the joyous science of poetry, but about the godlike art of +idleness. And with whom indeed should I rather talk and think about +idleness than with myself. So I spoke also in that immortal hour when +my guardian genius inspired me to preach the high gospel of true joy +and love: "Oh, idleness, idleness! Thou art the very soul of innocence +and inspiration. The blessed spirits do breathe thee, and blessed +indeed is he who hath and cherisheth thee, thou sacred jewel, thou +sole and only fragment of godlikeness brought forth by us from +Paradise." + +When I thus communed with myself I was sitting, like a pensive maiden +in a thoughtless romance, by the side of a brook, watching the +wavelets as they passed. They flowed by as smooth and quiet and +sentimental as if Narcissus were about to see his reflection on the +clear surface and become intoxicated with beautiful egoism. They might +also have enticed me to lose myself deeper and deeper in the inner +perspective of my mind, were not my nature so perpetually unselfish +and practical that even my speculations never concern themselves about +anything but the general good. So I fell to thinking, among other +things, while my mind was relaxed by a comfortable laziness and my +limbs by the powerful heat, of the possibility of a lasting embrace. I +thought out ways of prolonging the time of our being together and of +avoiding in the future those childishly pathetic expressions of pain +over sudden parting, and of finding pleasure, as hitherto, in the +comic side of Fate's inevitable and unchangeable decree that separate +we must. And only after the power of my reason, laboring over the +unattainableness of my ideal, broke and relaxed, did I give myself +over to a stream of thoughts. I listened eagerly to all the motley +fairy-tales with which imagination and desire, like irresistible +sirens in my breast, charmed my senses. It did not occur to me to +criticise the seductive illusion as ignoble, although I well knew that +it was for the most part a beautiful lie. The soft music of the +fantasy seemed to fill the gaps in my longing. I gratefully observed +this and resolved to repeat for us in the future by my own +inventiveness that which good fortune had given me, and to begin for +you this poem of truth. And thus the original germ of this wonderful +growth of caprice and love came into being. And just as freely as it +sprouted did I intend it should grow up and run wild; and never from +love of order and economy shall I trim off any of its profuse +abundance of superfluous leaves and shoots. + +Like a wise man of the East, I had fallen into a holy lethargy and +calm contemplation of the everlasting substances, more especially of +yours and mine. Greatness in repose, most people say, is the highest +aim of plastic art. And so, without any distinct purpose and without +any unseemly effort, I thought out and bodied forth our everlasting +substances in this dignified style. I looked back and saw how gentle +sleep overcame us in the midst of our embrace. Now and then one of us +would open an eye, smile at the sweet slumber of the other, and wake +up just enough to venture a jesting remark and a gentle caress. But +ere the wanton play thus begun was ended, we would both sink back into +the blissful lap of half-conscious self-forgetfulness. + +With the greatest indignation I then thought of the bad men who would +abolish sleep. They have probably never slept, and likewise never +lived. Why are gods gods, except because they deliberately do nothing; +because they understand that art and are masters of it? And how the +poets, the sages and the saints strive to be like the gods, in that +respect as in others! How they vie with one another in praise of +solitude, of leisure, of liberal freedom from care and of inactivity! +And they are right in doing so; for everything that is good and +beautiful in life is already there and maintains itself by its own +strength. Why then this vague striving and pushing forward without +rest or goal? Can this storm and stress give form and nourishing juice +to the everliving plant of humankind, that grows and fashions itself +in quiet? This empty, restless activity is only a bad habit of the +north and brings nothing but ennui for oneself and for others. And +with what does it begin and end except with antipathy to the world in +general, which is now such a common feeling? Inexperienced vanity does +not suspect that it indicates only lack of reason and sense, but +regards it as a high-minded discontent with the universal ugliness of +the world and of life, of which it really has not yet the slightest +presentiment. It could not be otherwise; for industry and utility are +the death-angels which, with fiery swords, prevent the return of man +into Paradise. Only when composed and at ease in the holy calm of true +passivity can one think over his entire being and get a view of life +and the world. + +How is it that we think and compose at all, except by surrendering +ourselves completely to the influence of some genius? Speaking and +fashioning are after all only incidentals in all arts and sciences; +thinking and imagining are the essentials, and they are only possible +in a passive state. To be sure it is intentional, arbitrary, +one-sided, but still a passive state. The more beautiful the climate +we live in, the more passive we are. Only the Italians know what it is +to walk, and only the Orientals to recline. And where do we find the +human spirit more delicately and sweetly developed than in India? +Everywhere it is the privilege of being idle that distinguishes the +noble from the common; it is the true principle of nobility. Finally, +where is the greater and more lasting enjoyment, the greater power and +will to enjoy? Among women, whose nature we call passive, or among +men, in whom the transition from sudden wrath to ennui is quicker than +that from good to evil? + +Satisfied with the enjoyment of my existence, I proposed to raise +myself above all its finite, and therefore contemptible, aims and +objects. Nature itself seemed to confirm me in this undertaking, and, +as it were, to exhort me in many-voiced choral songs to further +idleness. And now suddenly a new vision presented itself. I imagined +myself invisible in a theatre. On one side I saw all the well-known +boards, lights and painted scenery; on the other a vast throng of +spectators, a veritable ocean of curious faces and sympathetic eyes. +In the foreground, on the right, was Prometheus, in the act of +fashioning men. He was bound by a long chain and was working very fast +and very hard. Beside him stood several monstrous fellows who were +constantly whipping and goading him on. There was also an abundance of +glue and other materials about, and he was getting fire out of a large +coal-pan. On the other side was a figure of the deified Hercules, with +Hebe in his lap. On the stage in the foreground a crowd of youthful +forms were laughing and running about, all of whom were very happy and +did not merely seem to live. The youngest looked like amorettes, the +older ones like images of women. But each one of them had his own +peculiar manner and a striking originality of expression; and they all +bore a certain resemblance to the Christian painters' and poets' idea +of the devil--one might have called them little Satans. One of the +smallest said: + +"He who does not despise, cannot respect; one can only do either +boundlessly, and good tone consists only in playing with men. And so +is not a certain amount of malice an essential part of harmonious +culture?" + +"Nothing is more absurd," said another, "than when the moralists +reproach you about your egoism. They are altogether wrong; for what +god, who is not his own god, can deserve respect from man? You are, to +be sure, mistaken in thinking that you have an ego; but if, in the +meantime, you identify it with your body, your name and your property, +you thereby at least make ready a place for it, in case by any chance +an ego should come." + +"And this Prometheus you can all hold in deep reverence," said one of +the tallest. "He has made you all and is constantly making more like +you." + +And in fact just as soon as each new man was finished, the devils put +him down with all the rest who were looking on, and immediately it was +impossible to distinguish him from the others, so much alike were they +all. + +"The mistake he makes is in his method," continued the Sataniscus. +"How can one want to do nothing but fashion men? Those are not the +right tools he has." + +And thereat he pointed to a rough figure of the God of the Gardens, +which stood in the back part of the stage between an Amor and a very +beautiful naked Venus. + +"In regard to that our friend Hercules had better views, who could +occupy fifty maidens in a single night for the welfare of humanity, +and all of them heroic maids too. He did those labors of his, too, and +slew many a furious monster. But the goal of his career was always a +noble leisure, and for that reason he has gained entrance to Olympus. +Not so, however, with this Prometheus, the inventor of education and +enlightenment. To him you owe it that you can never be quiet and are +always on the move. Hence it is also, when you have absolutely nothing +to do, that you foolishly aspire to develop character and observe and +study one another. It is a vile business. But Prometheus, for having +misled man to toil, now has to toil himself, whether he wants to or +not. He will soon get very tired of it, and never again will he be +freed from his chains." + +When the spectators heard this, they broke out into tears and jumped +upon the stage to assure their father of their heartfelt sympathy. And +thus the allegorical comedy vanished. + +CONSTANCY AND PLAY + +"Of course you are alone, Lucinda?" + +"I do not know--perhaps--I think--" + +"Please! please! dear Lucinda. You know very well that when little +Wilhelmina says 'please! please!' and you do not do at once what she +wants, she cries louder and louder until she gets her way." + +"So it was to tell me that that you rushed into my room so out of +breath and frightened me so?" + +"Do not be angry with me, sweet lady, I beg of you! Oh, my child! +Lovely creature! Be a good girl and do not reproach me!" + +"Well, I suppose you will soon be asking me to close the door?" + +"So? I will answer that directly. But first a nice long kiss, and then +another, and then some more, and after that more still." + +"Oh! You must not kiss me that way--if you want me to keep my senses! +It makes one think bad thoughts." + +"You deserve to. Are you really capable of laughing, my peevish lady? +Who would have thought so? But I know very well you laugh only because +you can laugh at me. You do not do it from pleasure. For who ever +looked so solemn as you did just now--like a Roman senator? And you +might have looked ravishing, dear child, with those holy dark eyes, +and your long black hair shining in the evening sunlight--if you had +not sat there like a judge on the bench. Heavens! I actually started +back when I saw how you were looking at me. A little more and I should +have forgotten the most important thing, and I am all confused. But +why do you not talk? Am I disagreeable to you?" + +"Well, that _is_ funny, you surly Julius. As if you ever let any one +say anything! Your tenderness flows today like a spring shower." + +"Like your talk in the night." + +"Oh sir, let my neckcloth be." + +"Let it be? Not a bit of it! What is the use of a miserable, stupid +neckcloth? Prejudice! Away with it!" + +"If only no one disturbs us!" + +"There she goes again, looking as if she wanted to cry! You are well, +are you not? What makes your heart beat so? Come, let me kiss it! Oh, +yes, you spoke a moment ago about closing the door. Very well, but not +that way, not here. Come, let us run down through the garden to the +summer-house, where the flowers are. Come! Oh, do not make me wait +so!" + +"As you wish, sir." + +"I cannot understand--you are so odd today." + +"Now, my dear friend, if you are going to begin moralizing, we might +just as well go back again. I prefer to give you just one more kiss +and run on ahead of you." + +"Oh, not so fast, Lucinda! My moralizing will not overtake you. You +will fall, love!" + +"I did not wish to make you wait any longer. Now we are here. And you +came pretty fast yourself." + +"And you are very obedient! But this is no time to quarrel." + +"Be still! Be still!" + +"See! Here is a soft, cosy place, with everything as it should be. +This time, if you do not--well, there will be no excuse for you." + +"Will you not at least lower the curtain first?" + +"You are right. The light will be much more charming so. How beautiful +your skin shines in the red light! Why are you so cold, Lucinda?" + +"Dearest, put the hyacinths further away, their odor sickens me." + +"How solid and firm, how soft and smooth! That is harmonious +development." + +"Oh no, Julius! Please don't! I beg of you! I will not allow it!" + +"May I not feel * * *. Oh, let me listen to the beating of your heart! +Let me cool my lips in the snow of your bosom! Do not push me away! I +will have my revenge! Hold me tighter! Kiss upon kiss! No, not a lot +of short ones! One everlasting one! Take my whole soul and give me +yours! Oh, beautiful and glorious Together! Are we not children? Tell +me! How could you be so cold and indifferent at first, and then +afterward draw me closer to you, making a face the while as if +something were hurting you, as if you were reluctant to return my +ardor? What is the matter? Are you crying? Do not hide your face! +Look at me, dearest!" + +"Oh, let me lie here beside you--I cannot look into your eyes. It was +very naughty of me, Julius! Can you ever forgive me, darling? You will +not desert me, will you? Can you still love me?" + +"Come to me, sweet lady--here, close to my heart. Do you remember how +nice it was, not long ago, when you cried in my arms, and how it +relieved you? Tell me what the matter is now. You are not angry with +me?" + +"I am angry with myself. I could beat myself! To be sure, it would +have served you right. And if ever again, sir, you conduct yourself so +like a husband, I shall take better care that you find me like a wife. +You may be assured of that. I cannot help laughing, it took me so by +surprise. But do not imagine, sir, that you are so terribly +lovable--this time it was by my own will that I broke my resolution." + +"The first will and the last is always the best. It is just because +women usually say less than they mean that they sometimes do more than +they intend. That is no more than right; good will leads you women +astray. Good will is a very nice thing, but the bad part of it is that +it is always there, even when you do not want it." + +"That is a beautiful mistake. But you men are full of bad will and you +persist in it." + +"Oh no! If we seem to be obstinate, it is only because we cannot be +otherwise, not because our will is bad. We cannot, because we do not +will properly. Hence it is not bad will, but lack of will. And to whom +is the fault attributable but to you women, who have such a +super-abundance of good will and keep it all to yourselves, unwilling +to share it with us. But it happened quite against my will that we +fell a-talking about will--I am sure I do not know why we are doing +it. Still, it is much better for me to vent my feelings by talking +than by smashing the beautiful chinaware. It gave me a chance to +recover from my astonishment over your unexpected compunction, your +excellent discourse, and your laudable resolution. Really, this is one +of the strangest pranks that you have ever given me the honor of +witnessing; so far as I can remember, it has been several weeks since +you have talked by daylight in such solemn and unctuous periods as you +used in your little sermon today. Would you mind translating your +meaning into prose?" + +"Really, have you forgotten already about yesterday evening and the +interesting company? Of course I did not know that." + +"Oh! And so that is why you are so out of sorts--because I talked with +Amalia too much?" + +"Talk as much as you please with anybody you please. But you must be +nice to me--that I insist on." + +"You spoke so very loud; the stranger was standing close by, and I was +nervous and did not know what else to do." + +"Except to be rude in your awkwardness." + +"Forgive me! I plead guilty. You know how embarrassed I am with you in +society. It always hurts me to talk with you in the presence of +others." + +"How nicely he manages to excuse himself!" + +"The next time do not pass it over! Look out and be strict with me. +But see what you have done! Isn't it a desecration? Oh no! It isn't +possible, it is more than that. You will have to confess it--you were +jealous." + +"All the evening you rudely forgot about me. I began to write it all +out for you today, but tore it up." + +"And then, when I came?" + +"Your being in such an awful hurry annoyed me." + +"Could you love me if I were not so inflammable and electric? Are you +not so too? Have you forgotten our first embrace? In one minute love +comes and lasts for ever, or it does not come at all. Or do you think +that joy is accumulated like money and other material things, by +consistent behavior? Great happiness is like music coming out of the +air--it appears and surprises us and then vanishes again." + +"And thus it was you appeared to me, darling! But you will not vanish, +will you? You shall not! I say it!" + +"I will not, I will stay with you now and for all time. Listen! I feel +a strong desire to hold a long discourse with you on jealousy. But +first we ought to conciliate the offended gods." + +"Rather, first the discourse and afterward the gods." + +"You are right, we are not yet worthy of them. It takes you a long +time to get over it after you have been disturbed and annoyed about +something. How nice it is that you are so sensitive!" + +"I am no more sensitive than you are--only in a different way." + +"Well then, tell me! I am not jealous--how does it happen that you +are?" + +"Am I, unless I have cause to be? Answer me that!" + +"I do not know what you mean." + +"Well, I am not really jealous. But tell me: What were you talking +about all yesterday evening?" + +"So? It is Amalia of whom you are jealous? Is it possible? That +nonsense? I did not talk about anything with her, and that was the +funny part of it. Did I not talk just as long with Antonio, whom a +short time ago I used to see almost every day?" + +"You want me to believe that you talk in the same way with the +coquettish Amalia that you do with the quiet, serious Antonio. Of +course! It is nothing more than a case of clear, pure friendship!" + +"Oh no, you must not believe that--I do not wish you to. That is not +true. How can you credit me with being so foolish? For it is a very +foolish thing indeed for two people of opposite sex to form and +conceive any such relation as pure friendship. In Amalia's case it is +nothing more than playing that I love her. I should not care anything +about her at all, if she were not a little coquettish. + +"Would that there were more like her in our circle! Just in fun, one +must really love all the ladies." + +"Julius, I believe you are going completely crazy!" + +"Now understand me aright--I do not really mean all of them, but all +of them who are lovable and happen to come one's way." + +"That is nothing more than what the French call _galanterie_ and +_coquetterie_." + +"Nothing more--except that I think of it as something beautiful and +clever. And then men ought to know what the ladies are doing and what +they want; and that is rarely the case. A fine pleasantry is apt to be +transformed in their hands into coarse seriousness." + +"This loving just in fun is not at all a funny thing to look at." + +"That is not the fault of the fun--it is just miserable jealousy. +Forgive me, dearest--I do not wish to get excited, but I must confess +that I cannot understand how any one can be jealous. For lovers do not +offend each other, but do things to please each other. Hence it must +come from uncertainty, absence of love, and unfaithfulness to oneself. +For me happiness is assured, and love is one with constancy. To be +sure, it is a different matter with people who love in the ordinary +way. The man loves only the race in his wife, the woman in her husband +only the degree of his ability and social position, and both love in +their children only their creation and their property. Under those +circumstances fidelity comes to be a merit, a virtue, and jealousy is +in order. For they are quite right in tacitly believing that there are +many like themselves, and that one man is about as good as the next, +and none of them worth very much." + +"You look upon jealousy, then, as nothing but empty vulgarity and lack +of culture." + +"Yes, or rather as mis-culture and perversity, which is just as bad or +still worse. According to that system the best thing for a man to do +is to marry of set purpose out of sheer obligingness and courtesy. +And certainly for such folk it must be no less convenient than +entertaining, to live out their lives together in a state of mutual +contempt. Women especially are capable of acquiring a genuine passion +for marriage; and when one of them finds it to her liking, it easily +happens that she marries half a dozen in succession, either +spiritually or bodily. And the opportunity is never wanting for a man +and wife to be delicate for a change, and talk a great deal about +friendship." + +"You used to talk as if you regarded us women as incapable of +friendship. Is that really your opinion?" + +"Yes, but the incapability, I think, lies more in the friendship than +in you. Whatever you love at all, you love indivisibly; for instance, +a sweetheart or a baby. With you even a sisterly relation would assume +this character." + +"You are right there." + +"For you friendship is too many-sided and one-sided. It has to be +absolutely spiritual and have definite, fixed bounds. This boundedness +would, only in a more refined way, be just as fatal to your character +as would sheer sensuality without love. For society, on the other +hand, it is too serious, too profound, too holy." + +"Cannot people, then, talk with each other regardless of whether they +are men or women?" + +"That might make society rather serious. At best, it might form an +interesting club. You understand what I mean: it would be a great +gain, if people could talk freely, and were neither too wild nor yet +too stiff. The finest and best part would always be lacking--that +which is everywhere the spirit and soul of good society--namely, that +playing with love and that love of play which, without the finer +sense, easily degenerates into jocosity. And for that reason I defend +the ambiguities too." + +"Do you do that in play or by way of joke?" + +"No! No! I do it in all seriousness." + +"But surely not as seriously and solemnly as Pauline and her lover?" + +"Heaven forbid! I really believe they would ring the church-bell when +they embrace each other, if it were only proper. Oh, it is true, my +friend, man is naturally a serious animal. We must work against this +shameful and abominable propensity with all our strength, and attack +it from all sides. To that end ambiguities are also good, except that +they are so seldom ambiguous. When they are not and allow only one +interpretation, that is not immoral, it is only obtrusive and vulgar. +Frivolous talk must be spiritual and dainty and modest, so far as +possible; for the rest as wicked as you choose." + +"That is well enough, but what place have your ambiguities in +society?" + +"To keep the conversations fresh, just as salt keeps food fresh. The +question is not _why_ we say them, but _how_ we say them. It would be +rude indeed to talk with a charming lady as if she were a sexless +Amphibium. It is a duty and an obligation to allude constantly to what +she is and is going to be. It is really a comical situation, +considering how indelicate, stiff and guilty society is, to be an +innocent girl." + +"That reminds me of the famous Buffo, who, while he was always making +others laugh, was so sad and solemn himself." + +"Society is a chaos which can be brought into harmonious order only by +wit. If one does not jest and toy with the elements of passion, it +forms thick masses and darkens everything." + +"Then there must be passion in the air here, for it is almost dark." + +"Surely you have closed your eyes, lady of my heart! Otherwise the +light in them would brighten the whole room." + +"I wonder, Julius, who is the more passionate, you or I?" + +"Both of us are passionate enough. If that were not so, I should not +want to live. And see! That is why I could reconcile myself to +jealousy. There is everything in love--friendship, pleasant +intercourse, sensuality, and even passion. Everything must be in it, +and one thing must strengthen, mitigate, enliven and elevate the +other." + +"Let me embrace you, darling." + +"But only on one condition can I allow you to be jealous. I have often +felt that a little bit of cultured and refined anger does not +ill-become a man. Perhaps it is the same way with you in regard to +jealousy." + +"Agreed! Then I do not have to abjure it altogether." + +"If only you always manifest it as prettily and as wittily as you did +today." + +"Did I? Well, if next time you get into so pretty and witty a passion +about it, I shall say so and praise you for it." + +"Are we not worthy now to conciliate the offended gods?" + +"Yes, if your discourse is entirely finished; otherwise give me the +rest." [32] + +METAMORPHOSES + +The childlike spirit slumbers in sweet repose, and the kiss of the +loving goddess arouses in him only light dreams. The rose of shame +tinges his cheek; he smiles and seems to open his lips, but he does +not awaken and he knows not what is going on within him. Not until +after the charm of the external world, multiplied and reinforced by an +inner echo, has completely permeated his entire being, does he open +his eyes, reveling in the sun, and recall to mind the magic world +which he saw in the gleam of the pale moonlight. The wondrous voice +that awakened him is still audible, but instead of answering him it +echoes back from external objects. And if in childish timidity he +tries to escape from the mystery of his existence, seeking the unknown +with beautiful curiosity, he hears everywhere only the echo of his own +longing. + +Thus the eye sees in the mirror of the river only the reflection of +the blue sky, the green banks, the waving trees, and the form of the +absorbed gazer. When a heart, full of unconscious love, finds itself +where it hoped to find love in return, it is struck with amazement. +But we soon allow ourselves to be lured and deceived by the charm of +the view into loving our own reflection. Then has the moment of +winsomeness come, the soul fashions its envelop again, and breathes +the final breath of perfection through form. The spirit loses itself +in its clear depth and finds itself again, like Narcissus, as a +flower. + +Love is higher than winsomeness, and how soon would the flower of +Beauty wither without the complementary birth of requited love. This +moment the kiss of Amor and Psyche is the rose of life. The inspired +Diotima revealed to Socrates only a half of love. Love is not merely a +quiet longing for the infinite; it is also the holy enjoyment of a +beautiful present. It is not merely a mixture, a transition from the +mortal to the immortal, but it is a complete union of both. There is a +pure love, an indivisible and simple feeling, without the slightest +interference of restless striving. Every one gives the same as he +takes, one just like the other, all is balanced and completed in +itself, like the everlasting kiss of the divine children. + +By the magic of joy the grand chaos of struggling forms dissolves into +a harmonious sea of oblivion. When the ray of happiness breaks in the +last tear of longing, Iris is already adorning the eternal brow of +heaven with the delicate tints of her many-colored rainbow. Sweet +dreams come true, and the pure forms of a new generation rise up out +of Lethe's waves, beautiful as Anadyomene, and exhibit their limbs in +the place of the vanished darkness. In golden youth and innocence time +and man change in the divine peace of nature, and evermore Aurora +comes back more beautiful than before. + +Not hate, as the wise say, but love, separates people and fashions the +world; and only in its light can we find this and observe it. Only in +the answer of its Thou can every I completely feel its endless unity. +Then the understanding tries to unfold the inner germ of godlikeness, +presses closer and closer to the goal, is full of eagerness to fashion +the soul, as an artist fashions his one beloved masterpiece. In the +mysteries of culture the spirit sees the play and the laws of caprice +and of life. The statue of Pygmalion moves; a joyous shudder comes +over the astonished artist in the consciousness of his own +immortality, and, as the eagle bore Ganymede, a divine hope bears him +on its mighty pinion up to Olympus. + +TWO LETTERS + +I + +Is it then really and truly so, what I have so often quietly wished +for and have never dared to express? I see the light of holy joy +beaming on your face, and you modestly give me the beautiful promise. +You are to be a mother! + +Farewell, Longing, and thou, gentle Grief, farewell; the world is +beautiful again. Now I love the earth, and the rosy dawn of a new +spring lifts its radiant head over my immortal existence. If I had +some laurel, I would bind it around your brow to consecrate you to new +and serious duties; for there begins now for you another life. +Therefore, give to me the wreath of myrtle. It befits me to adorn +myself with the symbol of youthful innocence, since I now wander in +Nature's Paradise. Hitherto all that held us together was love and +passion. Now Nature has united us more firmly with an indissoluble +bond. Nature is the only true priestess of joy; she alone knows how to +tie the nuptial knot, not with empty words that bring no blessing, but +with fresh blossoms and living fruits from the fullness of her power. +In the endless succession of new forms creating Time plaits the wreath +of Eternity, and blessed is he whom Fortune selects to be healthy and +bear fruit. We are not sterile flowers among other living beings; the +gods do not wish to exclude us from the great concatenation of living +things, and are giving us plain tokens of their will. + +So let us deserve our position in this beautiful world, let us bear +the immortal fruits which the spirit chooses to create, and let us +take our place in the ranks of humanity. I will establish myself on +the earth, I will sow and reap for the future as well as for the +present. I will utilize all my strength during the day, and in the +evening I will refresh myself in the arms of the mother, who will be +eternally my bride. Our son, the demure little rogue, will play around +us, and help me invent mischief at your expense. + + * * * * * + +You are right; we must certainly buy the little estate. I am glad that +you went right ahead with the arrangements, without waiting for my +decision. Order everything just as you please; but, if I may say so, +do not have it too beautiful, nor yet too useful, and, above all +things, not too elaborate. + +If you only arrange it all in accordance with your own judgment and do +not allow yourself to be talked into the proper and conventional, +everything will be quite right, and the way I want it to be; and I +shall derive immense enjoyment from the beautiful property. Hitherto I +have lived in a thoughtless way and without any feeling of ownership; +I have tripped lightly over the earth and have never felt at home on +it. Now the sanctuary of marriage has given me the rights of +citizenship in the state of nature. I am no longer suspended in the +empty void of general inspiration; I like the friendly restraint, I +see the useful in a new light, and find everything truly useful that +unites everlasting love with its object--in short everything that +serves to bring about a genuine marriage. External things imbue me +with profound respect, if, in their way, they are good for something; +and you will some day hear me enthusiastically praise the blessedness +of home and the merits of domesticity. + +I understand now your preference for country life, I like you for it +and feel as you do about it. I can no longer endure to see these +ungainly masses of everything that is corrupt and diseased in mankind; +and when I think about them in a general way they seem to me like wild +animals bound by a chain, so that they cannot even vent their rage +freely. In the country, people can live side by side without +offensively crowding one another. If everything were as it ought to +be, beautiful mansions and cosy cottages would there adorn the green +earth, as do the fresh shrubs and flowers, and create a garden worthy +of the gods. + +To be sure we shall find in the country the vulgarity that prevails +everywhere. There ought really to be only two social classes, the +culturing and the cultured, the masculine and the feminine; instead of +all artificial society, there should be a grand marriage of these two +classes and universal brotherhood of all individuals. In place of that +we see a vast amount of coarseness and, as an insignificant exception, +a few who are perverted by a wrong education. But in the open air the +one thing which is beautiful and good cannot be suppressed by the bad +masses and their show of omnipotence. + +Do you know what period of our love seems to me particularly +beautiful? To be sure, it is all beautiful and pure in my memory, and +I even think of the first days with a sort of melancholy delight. But +to me the most cherished period of all is the last few days, when we +were living together on the estate. Another reason for living again in +the country. + +One thing more. Do not have the grapevines trimmed too close. I say +this only because you thought they were growing too fast and +luxuriantly, and because it might occur to you to want a perfectly +clear view of the house on all sides. Also the green grass-plot must +stay as it is; that is where the baby is to crawl and play and roll +about. + +Is it not true that the pain my sad letter caused you is now entirely +compensated? In the midst of all these giddy joys and hopes I can no +longer torment myself with care. You yourself suffered no greater pain +from it than I. But what does that matter, if you love me, really love +me in your very heart, without any reservation of alien thought? What +pain were worth mentioning when we gain by it a deeper and more fervid +consciousness of our love? And so, I am sure, you feel about it too. +Everything I am telling you, you knew long ago. There is absolutely no +delight, no love in me, the cause of which does not lie concealed +somewhere in the depths of your being, you everlastingly blessed +creature! + +Misunderstandings are sometimes good, in that they lead us to talk of +what is holiest. The differences that now and then seem to arise are +not in us, not in either of us; they are merely between us and on the +surface, and I hope you will take this occasion to drive them off and +away from you. + +And what is the cause of such little repulsions except our mutual and +insatiable desire to love and be loved? And without this +insatiableness there is no love. We live and love to annihilation. And +if it is love that first develops us into true and perfect beings, +that is the very life of life, then it need not fear opposition any +more than it fears life itself or humanity; peace will come to it only +after the conflict of forces. + +I feel happy indeed that I love a woman who is capable of loving as +you do. "As you do" is a stronger expression than any superlative. How +can you praise my words, when I, without wishing to, hit upon some +that hurt you? I should like to say, I write too well to be able to +describe to you my inward state of mind. Oh, dearest! Believe me, +there is no question in you that has not its answer in me. Your love +cannot be any more everlasting than mine. Admirable, however, is your +beautiful jealousy of my fancy and its wild flights. That indicates +rightly the boundlessness of your constancy, and leads me to hope that +your jealousy is on the point of destroying itself by its own excess. + +This sort of fancy--committed to writing--is no longer needed. I shall +soon be with you. I am holier and more composed than I was. I can only +see you in my mind and stand always before you. You yourself feel +everything without my telling you, and beam with joy, thinking partly +of the man you love and partly of your baby. + + * * * * * + +Do you know, while I have been writing to you, no memory could have +profaned you; to me you are as everlastingly pure as the Holy Virgin +of the Immaculate Conception, and you have wanted nothing to make you +like the Madonna except the Child. Now you have that, now it is there +and a reality. I shall soon be carrying him on my arm, telling him +fairy-tales, giving him serious instruction and lessons as to how a +young man has to conduct himself in the world. + +And then my mind reverts to the mother. I give you an endless kiss; I +watch your bosom heave with longing, and feel the mysterious throbbing +of your heart. When we are together again we will think of our youth, +and I will keep the present holy. You are right indeed; one hour later +is infinitely later. + +It is cruel that I cannot be with you right now. From sheer impatience +I do all sorts of foolish things. From morning until night I do +nothing but rove around here in this glorious region. Sometimes I +hasten my steps, as if I had something terribly important to do, and +presently find myself in some place where I had not the least desire +to be. I make gestures as if I were delivering a forcible speech; I +think I am alone and suddenly find myself among people. Then I have to +smile when I realize how absent-minded I was. + +I cannot write very long either; pretty soon I want to go out again +and dream away the beautiful evening on the bank of the quiet stream. + +Today I forgot among other things that it was time to send my letter +off. Oh well, so much the more joy and excitement will you have when +you receive it. + + * * * * * + +People are really very good to me. They not only forgive me for not +taking any part in their conversation, but also for capriciously +interrupting it. In a quiet way they seem even to derive hearty +pleasure from my joy. Especially Juliana. I tell her very little about +you, but she has a good intuition and surmises the rest. Certainly +there is nothing more amiable than pure, unselfish delight in love. + +I really believe that I should love my friends here, even if they were +less admirable than they are. I feel a great change in my being, a +general tenderness and sweet warmth in all the powers of my soul and +spirit, like the beautiful exhaustion of the senses that follows the +highest life. And yet it is anything but weakness. On the contrary, I +know that from now on I shall be able to do everything pertaining to +my vocation with more liking and with fresher vigor. I have never felt +more confidence and courage to work as a man among men, to lead a +heroic life, and in joyous fraternal coöperation to act for eternity. + +That is my virtue; thus it becomes me to be like the gods. Yours is +gently to reveal, like Nature's priestess of joy, the mystery of love; +and, surrounded by worthy sons and daughters, to hallow this beautiful +life into a holy festival. + + * * * * * + +I often worry about your health. You dress yourself too lightly and +are fond of the evening air; those are dangerous habits and are not +the only ones which you must break. Remember that a new order of +things is beginning for you. Hitherto I have praised your frivolity, +because it was opportune and in keeping with the rest of your nature. +I thought it feminine for you to play with Fortune, to flout caution, +to destroy whole masses of your life and environment. Now, however, +there is something that you must always bear in mind, and regard +above everything else. You must gradually train yourself--in the +allegorical sense, of course. + + * * * * * + +In this letter everything is all mixed up in a motley confusion, just +as praying and eating and rascality and ecstasy are mixed up in life. +Well, good night. Oh, why is it that I cannot at least be with you in +my dreams--be really with you and dream in you. For when I merely +dream of you, I am always alone. You wonder why you do not dream of +me, since you think of me so much. Dearest, do you not also have your +long spells of silence about me? + + * * * * * + +Amalia's letter gave me great pleasure. To be sure, I see from its +flattering tone that she does not consider me as an exception to the +men who need flattery. I do not like that at all. It would not be fair +to ask her to recognize my worth in our way. It is enough that there +is one who understands me. In her way she appreciates my worth so +beautifully. I wonder if she knows what adoration is? I doubt it, and +am sorry for her if she does not. Aren't you? + + * * * * * + +Today in a French book about two lovers I came across the expression: +"They were the universe to each other." It struck me as at once +pathetic and comical, how that thoughtless phrase, put there merely as +a hyperbolical figure of speech, in our case was so literally true. +Still it is also literally true for a French passion of that kind. +They are the universe to each other, because they lose sense for +everything else. Not so with us. Everything we once loved we still +love all the more ardently. The world's meaning has now dawned upon +us. Through me you have learned to know the infinitude of the human +mind, and through you I have come to understand marriage and life, and +the gloriousness of all things. + +Everything is animate for me, speaks to me, and everything is holy. +When people love each other as we do, human nature reverts to its +original godliness. The pleasure of the lover's embrace becomes +again--what it is in general--the holiest marvel of Nature. And that +which for others is only something to be rightly ashamed of, becomes +for us, what in and of itself it is, the pure fire of the noblest +potency of life. + + * * * * * + +There are three things which our child shall certainly have--a great +deal of wanton spirit, a serious face, and a certain amount of +predisposition for art. Everything else I await with quiet +resignation. Son or daughter, as for that I have no special +preference. But about the child's bringing-up I have thought a great, +great deal. We must carefully avoid, I think, what is called +"education;" try harder to avoid it than, say, three sensible fathers +try, by anxious thought, to lace up their progeny from the very cradle +in the bands of narrow morality. + +I have made some plans which I think will please you. In doing so I +have carefully considered your ideas. But you must not neglect the +Art! For your daughter, if it should be a daughter, would you prefer +portrait-or landscape-painting? + + * * * * * + +You foolish girl, with your external things! You want to know what is +going on around me, and where and when and how I live and amuse +myself? Just look around you, on the chair beside you, in your arms, +close to your heart--that is where I am. Does not a ray of longing +strike you, creep up with sweet warmth to your heart, until it reaches +your mouth, where it would fain overflow in kisses? + +And now you actually boast because you write me such warm letters, +while I only write to you often, you pedantic creature. At first I +always think of you as you describe it--that I am walking with you, +looking at you, listening to you, talking with you. Then again it is +sometimes quite different, especially when I wake up at night. + +How can you have any doubt about the worthiness and divineness of +your letters? The last one sparkles and beams as if it had bright +eyes. It is not mere writing--it is music. I believe that if I were to +stay away from you a few more months, your style would become +absolutely perfect. Meanwhile I think it advisable for us to forget +about writing and style, and no longer to postpone the highest and +loveliest of studies. I have practically decided to set out in eight +days. + +II + +It is a remarkable thing that man does not stand in great awe of +himself. The children are justified, when they peep so curiously and +timidly at a company of unknown faces. Each individual atom of +everlasting time is capable of comprising a world of joy, and at the +same time of opening up a fathomless abyss of pain and suffering. I +understand now the old fairy-tale about the man whom the sorcerer +allowed to live a great many years in a few moments. For I know by my +own experience the terrible omnipotence of the fantasy. + +Since the last letter from your sister--it is three days now--I have +undergone the sufferings of an entire life, from the bright sunlight +of glowing youth to the pale moonlight of sagacious old age. Every +little detail she wrote about your sickness, taken with what I had +already gleaned from the doctor and had observed myself, confirmed my +suspicion that it was far more dangerous than you thought; indeed no +longer dangerous, but decided, past hope. Lost in this thought and my +strength entirely exhausted on account of the impossibility of +hurrying to your side, my state of mind was really very disconsolate. +Now for the first time I understand what it really was, being new-born +by the joyful news that you are well again. For you are well again +now, as good as entirely well--that I infer from all the reports, with +the same confidence with which a few days ago I pronounced our +death-sentence. + +I did not think of it as about to happen in the future, or even in +the present. Everything was already past. For a long time you had been +wrapt in the bosom of the cold earth; flowers had started to grow on +the beloved grave, and my tears had already begun to flow more gently. +Mute and alone I stood, and saw nothing but the features I had loved +and the sweet glances of the expressive eyes. The picture remained +motionless before me; now and then the pale face smiled and seemed +asleep, just as it had looked the last time I saw it. Then of a sudden +the different memories all became confused; with unbelievable rapidity +the outlines changed, reassumed their first form, and transformed +themselves again and again, until the wild vision vanished. Only your +holy eyes remained in the empty space and hung there motionless, even +as the friendly stars shine eternally over our poverty. I gazed +fixedly at the black lights, which shone with a well-known smile in +the night of my grief. Now a piercing pain from dark suns burned me +with an insupportable glare, now a beautiful radiance hovered about as +if to entice me. Then I seemed to feel a fresh breath of morning air +fan me; I held my head up and cried aloud: "Why should you torment +yourself? In a few minutes you can be with her!" + +I was already hastening to you, when suddenly a new thought held me +back and I said to my spirit: "Unworthy man, you cannot even endure +the trifling dissonances of this ordinary life, and yet you regard +yourself as ready for and worthy of a higher life? Go away and do and +suffer as your calling is, and then present yourself again when your +orders have been executed." + +Is it not to you also remarkable how everything on this earth moves +toward the centre, how orderly everything is, how insignificant and +trivial? So it has always seemed to me. And for that reason I +suspect--if I am not mistaken, I have already imparted my suspicion to +you--that the next life will be larger, and in the good as well as in +the bad, stronger, wilder, bolder and more tremendous. + +The duty of living had conquered, and I found myself again amid the +tumult of human life, and of my and its weak efforts and faulty deeds. +A feeling of horror came over me, as when a person suddenly finds +himself alone in the midst of immeasurable mountains of ice. +Everything about me and in me was cold and strange, and even my tears +froze. + +Wonderful worlds appeared and vanished before me in my uneasy dream. I +was sick and suffered great pain, but I loved my sickness and welcomed +the suffering. I hated everything earthly and was glad to see it all +punished and destroyed. I felt so alone and so strangely. And as a +delicate spirit often grows melancholy in the very lap of happiness +over its own joy, and at the very acme of its existence becomes +conscious of the futility of it all, so did I regard my suffering with +mysterious pleasure. I regarded it as the symbol of life in general; I +believed that I was seeing and feeling the everlasting discord by +means of which all things come into being and exist, and the lovely +forms of refined culture seemed dead and trivial to me in comparison +with this monstrous world of infinite strength and of unending +struggle and warfare, even into the most hidden depths of existence. + +On account of this remarkable feeling sickness acquired the character +of a peculiar world complete in itself. I felt that its mysterious +life was richer and deeper than the vulgar health of the dreaming +sleep-walkers all around me. And with the sickliness, which was not at +all unpleasant, this feeling also clung to me and completely separated +me from other men, just as I was sundered from the earth by the +thought that your nature and my love had been too sacred not to take +speedy flight from earth and its coarse ties. It seemed to me that all +was right so, and that your unavoidable death was nothing more than a +gentle awakening after a light sleep. + +I too thought that I was awake when I saw your picture, which evermore +transfigured itself into a cheerful diffused purity. Serious and yet +charming, quite you and yet no longer you, the divine form irradiated +by a wonderful light! Now it was like the terrible gleam of visible +omnipotence, now like a soft ray of golden childhood. With long, still +drafts my spirit drank from the cool spring of pure passion and became +secretly intoxicated with it. And in this blissful drunkenness I felt +a spiritual worthiness of a peculiar kind, because every earthly +sentiment was entirely strange to me, and the feeling never left me +that I was consecrated to death. + +The years passed slowly by, and deeds and works advanced laboriously +to their goal, one after the other--a goal that seemed as little mine +as the deeds and works seemed to be what they are called. To me they +were merely holy symbols, and everything brought me back to my one +Beloved, who was the mediatrix between my dismembered ego and the one +eternal and indivisible humanity; all existence was an uninterrupted +divine service of solitary love. + +Finally I became conscious that it was now nearly over. The brow was +no longer smooth and the locks were becoming gray. My career was +ended, but not completed. The best strength of life was gone, and +still Art and Virtue stood ever unattainable before me. I should have +despaired, had I not perceived and idolized both in you, gracious +Madonna, and you and your gentle godliness in myself. + +Then you appeared to me, beckoning with the summons of Death. An +earnest longing for you and for freedom seized me; I yearned for my +dear old fatherland, and was about to shake off the dust of travel, +when I was suddenly called back to life by the promise and reassurance +of your recovery. + +Then I became conscious that I had been dreaming; I shuddered at all +the significant suggestions and similarities, and stood anxiously by +the boundless deep of this inward truth. + +Do you know what has become most obvious to me as a result of it +all? First, that I idolize you, and that it is a good thing that I do +so. We two are one, and only in that way does a human being become one +and a complete entity, that is, by regarding and poetically conceiving +himself as the centre of everything and the spirit of the world. But +why poetically conceive, since we find the germ of everything in +ourselves, and yet remain forever only a fragment of ourselves? + +And then I now know that death can also be felt as beautiful and +sweet. I understand how the free creature can quietly long in the +bloom of all its strength for dissolution and freedom, and can +joyfully entertain the thought of return as a morning sun of hope. + +A REFLECTION + +It has often struck my mind how extraordinary it is that sensible and +dignified people can keep on, with such great seriousness and such +never-tiring industry, forever playing the little game in perpetual +rotation--a game which is of no use whatever and has no definite +object, although it is perhaps the earliest of all games. Then my +spirit inquired what Nature, who everywhere thinks so profoundly and +employs her cunning in such a large way, and who, instead of talking +wittily, behaves wittily, may think of those naïve intimations which +refined speakers designate only by their namelessness. + +And this namelessness itself has an equivocal significance. The more +modest and modern one is, the more fashionable does it become to put +an immodest interpretation upon it. For the old gods, on the contrary, +all life had a certain classic dignity whereby even the immodest +heroic art is rendered lifelike. The mass of such works and the great +inventive power displayed in them settles the question of rank and +nobility in the realm of mythology. + +This number and this power are all right, but they are not the +highest. Where does the longed-for ideal lie concealed? Or does the +aspiring heart evermore find in the highest of all plastic arts only +new manners and never a perfected style? + +Thinking has a peculiarity of its own in that, next to itself, it +loves to think about something which it can think about forever. For +that reason the life of the cultured and thinking man is a constant +study and meditation on the beautiful riddle of his destiny. He is +always defining it in a new way, for just that is his entire destiny, +to be defined and to define. Only in the search itself does the human +mind discover the secret that it seeks. + +But what, then, is it that defines or is defined? Among men it is the +nameless. And what is the nameless among women?--The Indefinite. + +The Indefinite is more mysterious, but the Definite has greater magic +power. The charming confusion of the Indefinite is more romantic, but +the noble refinement of the Definite has more of genius. The beauty of +the Indefinite is perishable, like the life of the flowers and the +everlasting youth of mortal feelings; the energy of the Definite is +transitory, like a genuine storm and genuine inspiration. + +Who can measure and compare two things which have endless worth, when +both are held together in the real Definiteness, which is intended to +fill all gaps and to act as mediator between the male and female +individual and infinite humanity? + +The Definite and the Indefinite and the entire abundance of their +definite and indefinite relations--that is the one and all, the most +wonderful and yet the simplest, the simplest and yet the highest. The +universe itself is only a toy of the Definite and the Indefinite; and +the real definition of the definable is an allegorical miniature of +the life and activity of ever-flowing creation. + +With everlasting immutable symmetry both strive in different ways to +get near to the Infinite and to escape from it. With light but sure +advances the Indefinite expands its native wish from the beautiful +centre of Finiteness into the boundless. Complete Definiteness, on the +other hand, throws itself with a bold leap out of the blissful dream +of the infinite will into the limits of the finite deed, and by +self-refinement ever increases in magnanimous self-restraint and +beautiful self-sufficiency. + +In this symmetry is also revealed the incredible humor with which +consistent Nature accomplishes her most universal and her most simple +antithesis. Even in the most delicate and most artistic organization +these comical points of the great All reveal themselves, like a +miniature, with roguish significance, and give to all individuality, +which exists only by them and by the seriousness of their play, its +final rounding and perfection. + +Through this individuality and that allegory the bright ideal of witty +sensuality blooms forth from the striving after the Unconditioned. + +Now everything is clear! Hence the omnipresence of the nameless, +unknown divinity. Nature herself wills the everlasting succession of +constantly repeated efforts; and she wills, too, that every individual +shall be complete, unique and new in himself--a true image of the +supreme, indivisible Individuality. Sinking deeper into this +Individuality, my Reflection took such an individual turn that it +presently began to cease and to forget itself. + +"What point have all these allusions, which with senseless sense on +the outward boundaries of sensuality, or rather in the middle of it, I +will not say play, but contend with, each other?" + +So you will surely ask, and so the good Juliana would ask, though no +doubt in different language. + +Dear Beloved! Shall the nosegay contain only demure roses, quiet +forget-me-nots, modest violets and other maidenlike and childlike +flowers? May it not contain anything and everything that shines +strangely in wonderful glory? + +Masculine awkwardness is a manifold thing, and rich in blossoms and +fruits of all kinds. Let the wonderful plant, which I will not name, +have its place. It will serve at least as a foil to the +bright-gleaming pomegranate and the yellow oranges. Or should there +be, perhaps, instead of this motley abundance, only one perfect +flower, which combines all the beauties of the rest and renders their +existence superfluous? + +I do not apologize for doing what I should rather like to do again, +with full confidence in your objective sense for the artistic +productions of the awkwardness which, often and not unwillingly, +borrows the material for its creations from masculine inspiration. + +It is a soft Furioso and a clever Adagio of friendship. You will be +able to learn various things from it; that men can hate with as +uncommon delicacy as you can love; that they then remold a wrangle, +after it is over, into a distinction; and that you may make as many +observations about it as pleases you. + +JULIUS To ANTONIO + +You have changed a great deal of late. Beware, my friend, that you do +not lose your sense for the great before you realize it. What will +that mean? You will finally acquire so much modesty and delicacy that +heart and feeling will be lost. Where then will be your manhood and +your power of action? I shall yet come to the point of treating you as +you treat me, since we have not been living with each other, but near +each other. I shall have to set limits for you and say: Even if he has +a sense for everything else that is beautiful, still he lacks all +sense for friendship. Still I shall never set myself up as a moral +critic of my friend and his conduct; he who can do that does not +deserve the rare good fortune to have a friend. + +That you wrong yourself first of all only makes the matter worse. Tell +me seriously, do you think there is virtue in these cool subtleties of +feeling, in these cunning mental gymnastics, which consume the marrow +of a man's life and leave him hollow inside? + +For a long time I was resigned and said nothing. I did not doubt at +all that you, who know so much, would also probably know the causes +that have destroyed our friendship. It almost seems as if I was +mistaken, since you were so astonished at my attaching myself to +Edward and asked how you had offended me, as if you did not understand +it. If it were only that, only some one thing like that, then it would +not be worth while to ask such a painful question; the question would +answer and settle itself. But is it not more than that, when on every +occasion I must feel it a fresh desecration to tell you everything +about Edward, just as it happened? To be sure you have done nothing, +have not even said anything aloud; but I know and see very well how +you think about it. And if I did not know it and see it, where would +be the invisible communion of our spirits and the beautiful magic of +this communion? It certainly cannot occur to you to want to hold back +still longer, and by sheer finesse to try to end the misunderstanding; +for otherwise I should myself really have nothing more to say. + +You two are unquestionably separated by an everlasting chasm. The +quiet, clear depth of your being and the hot struggle of his restless +life lie at the opposite ends of human existence. He is all action, +you are a sensitive, contemplative nature. For that reason you should +have sense for everything, and you really do have it, save when you +cultivate an intentional reserve. And that really vexes me. Better +that you should hate the noble fellow than misjudge him. But where +will it lead, if you unnaturally accustom yourself to use your utmost +wit in finding nothing but the commonplace in what little of greatness +and beauty there is in him, and that without renouncing your claim to +a liberal mind? + +Is that your boasted many-sidedness? To be sure you observe the +principle of equality, and one man does not fare much better than +another, except that each one is misunderstood in a peculiar way. Have +you not also forced me to say nothing to you, or to anyone else, about +that which I feel to be the highest? And that merely because you +could not hold back your opinion until it was the proper time, and +because your mind is always imagining limitations in others before it +can find its own. You have almost obliged me to explain to you how +great my own worth really is; how much more just and safe it would +have been, if now and then you had not passed judgment but had +believed; if you had presupposed in me an unknown infinite. + +To be sure my own negligence is to blame for it all. Perhaps too it +was idiosyncrasy--that I wanted to share with you the entire present, +without letting you know anything about the past and the future. +Somehow it went against my feelings, and I regarded it too as +superfluous; for, as a matter of fact, I gave you credit for a great +deal of intelligence. + +O Antonio, if I could be doubtful about the eternal truths, you might +have brought me to the point of regarding that quiet, beautiful +friendship, which is based merely upon the harmony of being and living +together, as something false and perverse. + +Is it now still incomprehensible if I quite go over to the other side? +I renounce refined enjoyment and plunge into the wild battle of life. +I hasten to Edward. Everything is agreed upon. We will not only live +together, but we will work and act in fraternal unison. He is rough +and uncouth, his virtue is strong rather than sensitive. But he has a +great manly heart, and in better times than ours he would have been, I +say it boldly, a hero. + +II + +It is no doubt well that we have at last talked with each other again. +I am quite content, too, that you did not wish to write, and that you +spoke slightingly of poor innocent letters because you really have +more genius for talking. But I have in my heart one or two things more +that I could not say to you, and will now endeavor to intimate with +the pen. + +But why in this way? Oh, my friend, if I only knew of a more refined +and subtle mode of communicating my thoughts from afar in some +exquisite form! To me conversation is too loud, too near, and also too +disconnected. These separate words always present one side only, a +part of the connected, coherent whole, which I should like to intimate +in its complete harmony. + +And can men who are going to live together be too tender toward each +other in their intercourse? It is not as if I were afraid of saying +something too strong, and for that reason avoided speaking of certain +persons and certain affairs. So far as that is concerned, I think that +the boundary line between us is forever destroyed. + +What I still had to say to you is something very general, and yet I +prefer to choose this roundabout way. I do not know whether it is +false or true delicacy, but I should find it very hard to talk with +you, face to face, about friendship. And yet it is thoughts on that +subject that I wish to convey to you. The application--and it is about +that I am most concerned--you will yourself easily be able to make. + +To my mind there are two kinds of friendship. The first is entirely +external. Insatiably it rushes from deed to deed, receives every +worthy man into the great alliance of united heroes, ties the old knot +tighter by means of every virtue, and ever aspires to win new +brothers; the more it has, the more it wants. Call to mind the antique +world and you will find this friendship, which wages honest war +against all that is bad, even were it in ourselves or in the beloved +friend--you will find this friendship everywhere, where noble strength +exerts influence on great masses, and creates or governs worlds. Now +times are different; but the ideal of this friendship will stay with +me as long as I live. + +The other friendship is entirely internal. A wonderful symmetry of the +most intimately personal, as if it had been previously ordained that +one should always be perfecting himself. All thoughts and feelings +become social through the mutual excitation and development of the +holiest. And this purely spiritual love, this beautiful mysticism of +intercourse, does not merely hover as the distant goal of a perhaps +futile effort. No, it is only to be found complete. There no deception +occurs, as in that other heroic form. Whether a man's virtue will +stand the test, his actions must show. But he who inwardly sees and +feels humanity and the world will not be apt to look for public +disinterestedness where it is not to be found. + +He only is capable of this friendship who is quite composed within +himself, and who knows how to honor with humility the divinity of the +other. + +When the gods have bestowed such friendship upon a man, he can do +nothing more than protect it carefully against everything external, +and guard its holy being. For the delicate flower is perishable. + +LONGING AND PEACE + +Lightly dressed, Lucinda and Julius stood by the window in the +summer-house, refreshing themselves in the cool morning air. They were +absorbed in watching the rising sun, which the birds were welcoming +with their joyous songs. + +"Julius," asked Lucinda, "why is it that I feel a deep longing in this +serene peace?" + +"It is only in longing that we find peace," answered Julius. "Yes, +there is peace only when the spirit is entirely free to long and to +seek, where it can find nothing higher than its own longing." + +"Only in the peace of the night," said Lucinda, "do longing and love +shine full and bright, like this glorious sun." + +"And in the daytime," responded Julius, "the happiness of love shines +dimly, even as the pale moonlight." + +"Or it appears and vanishes suddenly into the general darkness," added +Lucinda, "like those flashes of lightning which lighted up the room +when the moon was hidden." + +"Only in the night," said Julius, "does the little nightingale utter +wails and deep sighs. Only in the night does the flower shyly open and +breathe freely the fragrant air, intoxicating both mind and senses in +equal delight. Only in the night, Lucinda, does the bold speech of +deep passion flow divinely from the lips, which in the noise of the +day close with tender pride their sweet sanctuary." + +LUCINDA + +It is not I, my Julius, whom you portray as so holy; although I would +fain wail like the nightingale, and although I am, as I inwardly feel, +consecrated to the night. It is you, it is the wonderful flower of +your fantasy which you perceive in me, when the noise has died down +and nothing commonplace distracts your noble mind. + +JULIUS + +Away with modesty and flattery! Remember, you are the priestess of the +night. Even in the daylight the dark lustre of your abundant hair, the +bright black of your earnest eyes, the majesty of your brow and your +entire body, all proclaim it. + +LUCINDA + +My eyes droop while you praise, because the noisy morning dazzles and +the joyous songs of the merry birds strengthen and awe my soul. At +another time my ear would eagerly drink in my lovely friend's sweet +talk here in the quiet, dark coolness of the evening. + +JULIUS + +It is not vain fantasy. My longing for you is constant and +everlastingly unsatisfied. + +LUCINDA + +Be it what it may, you are the object in which my being finds peace. + +JULIUS + +Holy peace, dear friend, I have found only in that longing. + +LUCINDA + +And I have found that holy longing in this beautiful peace. + +JULIUS + +Alas, that the garish light is permitted to lift the veil that so +concealed those flames, that the play of the senses was fain to cool +and assuage the burning soul. + +LUCINDA + +And so sometimes the cold and serious day will annihilate the warm +night of life, when youth flies by and I renounce you, even as you +once more greatly renounced great love. + +JULIUS + +Oh, that I might show you my unknown friend, and her the wonder of my +wondrous happiness. + +LUCINDA + +You love her still and will love her forever, though forever mine. +That is the wonder of your wondrous heart. + +JULIUS + +No more wondrous than yours. I see you, clasped against my breast, +playing with your Guido's locks, while we twain in brotherly union +adorn your serious brow with eternal wreaths of joy. + +LUCINDA + +Let rest in darkness, bring not forth into light, that which blooms +sacredly in the quiet depths of the heart. + +JULIUS + +Where may the billow of life be sporting with the impulsive youth whom +tender feeling and wild fate vehemently dragged into the harsh world? + +LUCINDA + +Uniquely transfigured, the pure image of the noble Unknown shines in +the blue sky of your pure soul. + +JULIUS + +Oh eternal longing! But surely the futile desire, the vain glare, of +the day will grow dim and go out, and there will be forever more the +restful feeling of a great night of love. + +LUCINDA + +Thus does the woman's heart in my ardent breast feel, when I am +allowed to be as I am. It longs only for your longing, and is peaceful +where you find peace. + +DALLYINGS OF THE FANTASY + +Life itself, the delicate child of the gods, is crowded out by the +hard, loud preparations for living, and is pitifully stifled in the +loving embrace of apelike Care. + +To have purposes, to carry out purposes, to interweave purposes +artfully with purposes for a purpose: this habit is so deeply rooted +in the foolish nature of godlike man, that if once he wishes to move +freely, without any purpose, on the inner stream of ever-flowing +images and feelings, he must actually resolve to do it and make it a +set purpose. + +It is the acme of intelligence to keep silent from choice, to +surrender the soul to the fantasy, and not to disturb the sweet +dallyings of the young mother with her child. But rarely is the mind +so intelligent after the golden age of its innocence. It would fain +possess the soul alone; and even when she supposes herself alone with +her natural love, the understanding listens furtively and substitutes +for the holy child's-play mere memories of former purposes or +prospects of new ones. Yes, it even continues to give to the hollow, +cold illusions a tinge of color and a fleeting heat; and thus by its +imitative skill it tries to steal from the innocent fantasy its very +innermost being. + +But the youthful soul does not allow itself to be cheated by the +cunning of the prematurely old Understanding, and is always watching +while its darling plays with the beautiful pictures of the beautiful +world. Willingly she allows her brow to be adorned with the wreaths +which the child plaits from the blossoms of life, and willingly she +sinks into waking slumber, dreaming of the music of love, hearing the +friendly and mysterious voices of the gods, like the separate sounds +of a distant romance. + +Old, well-known feelings make music from the depths of the past and +the future. They touch the listening spirit but lightly, and quickly +lose themselves in the background of hushed music and dim love. Every +one lives and loves, complains and rejoices, in beautiful confusion. +Here at a noisy feast the lips of all the joyful guests open in +general song, and there the lonely maiden becomes mute in the presence +of the friend in whom she would fain confide, and with smiling mouth +refuses the kiss. Thoughtfully I strew flowers on the grave of the +prematurely dead son, flowers which presently, full of joy and hope, I +offer to the bride of the beloved brother; while the high priestess +beckons to me and holds out her hand for a solemn covenant to swear by +the pure eternal fire eternal purity and never-dying enthusiasm. I +hasten away from the altar and the priestess to seize my sword and +plunge with the host of heroes into a battle, which I soon forget, +seeing in the deepest solitude only the sky and myself. + +The soul that has such dreams in sleep continues to have them even +when it is awake. It feels itself entwined by the blossoms of love, it +takes care not to destroy the loose wreaths; it gladly gives itself up +a prisoner, consecrates itself to the fantasy, and willingly allows +itself to be ruled by the child, which rewards all maternal cares by +its sweet playfulness. + +Then a fresh breath of the bloom of youth and a halo of child-like +ecstasy comes over the whole of life. The man deifies his Beloved, the +mother her child, and all men everlasting humanity. + +Now the soul understands the wail of the nightingale and the smile of +the new-born babe; the significance of the flowers and the mysterious +hieroglyphics of the starry sky; the holy import of life as well as +the beautiful language of Nature. All things speak to it, and +everywhere it sees the lovely spirit through the delicate envelope. + +On this gaily decorated floor it glides through the light dance of +life, innocent, and concerned only to follow the rhythm of sociability +and friendship, and not to disturb the harmony of love. And during it +all an eternal song, of which it catches now and then a few words +which adumbrate still higher wonders. + +Ever more beautifully this magic circle encompasses the charmed soul, +and that which it forms or speaks sounds like a wonderful romance of +childhood's beautiful and mysterious divinities--a romantic tale, +accompanied by the bewitching music of the feelings, and adorned with +the fairest flowers of lovely life. + + + + +APHORISMS + +By FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + +From the _Lyceum and the Athenæum_ (1797-1800) + +TRANSLATED BY LOUIS H. GRAY + +Perfect understanding of a classic work should never be possible; but +those who are cultivated and who are still striving after further +culture, must always desire to learn more from it. + +If an author is to be able to write well upon a theme, he must no +longer feel interest in it; the thought which is to be soberly +expressed must already be entirely past and must no longer personally +concern the writer. So long as the artist invents and is inspired, he +is in an unfavorable situation, at least for communicating his +concepts. He will then wish to say everything--a false tendency of +young geniuses, or an instinctively correct prejudice of old bunglers. +In this way he mistakes the value and the dignity of self-restraint, +although for the artist, as for the man, this is the first and the +last, the most needful and the highest. + +We should never appeal to the spirit of antiquity as an authority. +There is this peculiarity about spirits: they cannot be grasped with +the hands and be held up before others. Spirits reveal themselves only +to spirits. Here, too, the briefest and most concise course would +doubtless be to prove, through good works, our possession of the faith +which alone gives salvation. + +He who desires something infinite knows not what he desires; but the +converse of this proposition is not true. + +In the ordinary kind of fair or even good translation it is precisely +the best part of a work that is lost. + +It is impossible to offend a man if he will not be offended. + +Every honest author writes for no one or for all men; he who writes +that this one or that one may read him, deserves not to be read at +all. + +In the poetry of the Ancients we see the perfection of the letter: in +that of the moderns we divine the growth of the spirit. + +The Germans are said to be the foremost nation of the world as regards +artistic sense and scientific genius. Very true, only--there are very +few Germans. + +Almost all marriages are only concubinages, morganatic wedlock, or, +rather, provisional attempts and remote approximations to a real +marriage, the peculiar essence of which consists in the fact that more +than one person are to become but one, not in accordance with the +paradoxes of this system or that, but in harmony with all spiritual +and temporal laws. A fine concept, although its realization seems to +have many grave difficulties. For this very reason there should here +be the least possible restriction of the caprice which may well have a +word to say when it becomes a question of whether one is to be an +individual in himself or is to be merely an integral part of a +corporate personality; nor is it easy to see what objections, on +principle, could be made to a marriage a quatre. If the State, +however, is determined to hold together, even by force, the +unsuccessful attempts at marriage, it thereby impedes the very +possibility of marriage, which might be furthered by new--and perhaps +happier--attempts. + +A regiment of soldiers on parade is, according to some philosophers, a +system. + +A man can only become a philosopher, he cannot be one; so soon as he +believes that he is one, he ceases to become one. + +The printed page is to thought what a nursery is to the first kiss. + +The historian is a prophet looking backward. + +There are people whose entire activity consists in saying "No." It +would be no small thing always to be able rightly to say "No," but he +who can do nothing more, surely cannot do it rightly. The taste of +these negationists is an admirable shears to cleanse the extremities +of genius; their enlightenment a great snuffer for the flame of +enthusiasm; and their reason a mild laxative for immoderate passion +and love. + +Every great philosopher has always so explained his +predecessors--often unintentionally--that it seemed as though they had +not in the least been understood before him. + +As a transitory condition skepticism is logical insurrection; as a +system it is anarchy; skeptical method would thus be approximately +like insurgent government. + +At the phrases "his philosophy," "my philosophy," we always recall the +words in Nathan the Wise: "Who owns God? What sort of a God is that +who is owned by a man?" + +What happens in poetry happens never or always; otherwise, it is no +true poetry. We ought not to believe that it is now actually +happening. + +Women have absolutely no sense of art, though they may have of poetry. +They have no natural disposition for the sciences, though they may +have for philosophy. They are by no means wanting in power of +speculation and intuitive perception of the infinite; they lack only +power of abstraction, which is far more easy to be learned. + +That is beautiful which is charming and sublime at the same time. + +Romantic poetry is a progressive universal poetry. Its mission is not +merely to reunite all the separate categories of poetry, and to bring +poetry into contact with philosophy and with rhetoric. It will, and +should, also now mingle and now amalgamate poetry and prose, genius +and criticism, artistic poetry and natural poetry; make poetry living +and social, and life and society poetic; poetize wit; and fill and +saturate the forms of art with sterling material of every kind, and +inspire them with the vibrations of humor. It embraces everything, if +only it is poetic--from the greatest system of art which, in its turn, +includes many systems within itself, down to the sigh, the kiss, which +the musing child breathes forth in artless song. It can so be lost in +what it represents that it might be supposed that its one and all is +the characterization of poetic individuals of every type; and yet no +form has thus far arisen which would be equally adapted perfectly to +express the author's mind; so that many artists who desired only to +write a romance have more or less described themselves. Romantic +poetry alone can, like the epic, become a mirror of the entire world +that surrounds it, and a picture of its age. And yet, free from all +real and ideal interests, it, too, most of all, can soar, mid-way +between that which is presented and him who presents, on the wings of +poetic reflection; it can ever re-intensify this reflection and +multiply it as in an endless series of mirrors. It is capable of the +highest and of the most universal culture--not merely from within +outward, but also from without inward--since it organizes similarly +all parts of that which is destined to become a whole; thus the +prospect of an endlessly developing classicism is opened up to it. +Among the arts romantic poetry is what wit is to philosophy, and what +society, association, friendship, and love are in life. Other types of +poetry are finished, and can now be completely analyzed. The romantic +type of poetry is still in process of development; indeed, it is its +peculiar essence that it can eternally only be in process of +development, and that it can never be completed. It can be exhausted +by no theory, and only a divinatory criticism might dare to wish to +characterize its ideal. It alone is infinite, even as it alone is +free; and as its first law it recognizes that the arbitrariness of the +poet brooks no superior law. The romantic style of poetry is the only +one which is more than a style, and which is, as it were, poetry +itself; for in a certain sense all poetry is, or should be, romantic. + +In the ancients every man has found what he needed or +desired--especially himself. + +The French Revolution, Fichte's _Wissenschaftslehre_, and Goethe's +_Wilhelm Meister_ are the three greatest tendencies of the age. +Whoever is offended at this juxtaposition, and whoever can deem no +revolution important which is not boisterous and material, has not yet +risen to the broad and lofty viewpoint of the history of mankind. Even +in our meagre histories of culture, which, for the most part, resemble +a collection of variant readings accompanied by a running commentary +the classical text of which has perished, many a little book of which +the noisy rabble took scant notice in its day, plays a greater rôle +than all that this rabble did. + +It is very one-sided and presumptuous to assert that there is only one +Mediator. To the ideal Christian--and in this respect the unique +Spinoza comes nearest to being one--everything ought to be a Mediator. + +He alone can be an artist who has a religion of his own, an original +view of the infinite. + +It is a peculiar trait of humanity that it must exalt itself above +humanity. + +Plato's philosophy is a worthy preface to the religion of the future. + +Man is free when he brings forth God or makes Him visible; and thereby +he becomes immortal. + +The morality of a book lies not in its theme or in the relation of the +writer to his public, but in the spirit of the treatment. If this +breathes the full abundance of humanity, it is moral. If it is merely +the work of an isolated power and art, it is not moral. + +He is an artist who has his centre within himself. He who lacks this +must choose a definite leader and mediator outside himself--naturally, +not forever, but only at the first. For without a living centre man +cannot exist, and if he does not yet have it within himself he can +seek it only in a human being, and only a human being and his centre +can arouse and awaken the artist's own. + + + + +NOVALIS (FRIEDRICH VON HARDENBERG) + + * * * * * + +THE STORY OF HYACINTH AND ROSEBLOSSOM + +From _The Novices at Saïs_ (1798) + +TRANSLATED BY LILLIE WINTER + +Long ages ago there lived in the far west a guileless youth. He was +very good, but at the same time peculiar beyond measure. He constantly +grieved over nothing at all, always went about alone and silent, sat +down by himself whenever the others played and were happy, and was +always thinking about strange things. Woods and caves were his +favorite haunts, and there he talked constantly with birds and +animals, with rocks and trees--naturally not a word of sense, nothing +but stuff silly enough to make one die a-laughing. Yet he continued to +remain morose and grave in spite of the fact that the squirrel, the +long-tailed monkey, the parrot, and the bullfinch took great pains to +distract him and lead him into the right path. The goose would tell +fairy-tales, and in the midst of them the brook would tinkle a ballad; +a great heavy stone would caper about ludicrously; the rose stealing +up affectionately behind him would creep through his locks, and the +ivy stroke his careworn forehead. But his melancholy and his gravity +were obstinate. His parents were greatly grieved; they did not know +what to do. He was healthy and ate well. His parents had never hurt +his feelings, nor until a few years since had any one been more +cheerful and lively than he; always he had been at the head of every +game, and was well liked by all the girls. He was very handsome +indeed, looked like a picture, danced beautifully. Among the girls +there was one sweet and very pretty child. + +[Illustration: #NOVALIS# (Friedrich von Hardenberg) EDUARD EICHENS] + +She looked as though she were of wax, with hair like silk spun of +gold, lips as red as cherries, a figure like a little doll, eyes black +as the raven. Such was her charm that whoever saw her might have pined +away with love. At that time Roseblossom, that was her name, cherished +a heart-felt affection for the handsome Hyacinth, that was his name, +and he loved her with all his life. The other children did not know +it. A little violet had been the first to tell them; the house-cats +had noticed it, to be sure, for their parents' homes stood near each +other. When, therefore, Hyacinth was standing at night at his window +and Roseblossom at hers, and the pussies ran by on a mouse-hunt, they +would see both standing, and would often laugh and titter so loudly +that the children would hear them and grow angry. The violet had +confided it to the strawberry, she told it to her friend, the +gooseberry, and she never stopped taunting when Hyacinth passed; so +that very soon the whole garden and the goods heard the news, and +whenever Hyacinth went out they called on every side: "Little +Roseblossom is my sweetheart!" Now Hyacinth was vexed, and again he +could not help laughing from the bottom of his heart when the lizard +would come sliding up, seat himself on a warm stone, wag his little +tail, and sing + + Little Roseblossom, good and kind, + Suddenly was stricken blind. + Her mother Hyacinth she thought + And to embrace him forthwith sought. + But when she felt the face was strange, + Just think, no terror made her change! + But on his cheek pressed she her kiss, + And she had noted naught amiss. + +Alas, how soon did all this bliss pass away! There came along a man +from foreign lands; he had traveled everywhere, had a long beard, +deep-set eyes, terrible eyebrows, a strange cloak with many folds and +queer figures woven in it. He seated himself in front of the house +that belonged to Hyacinth's parents. Now Hyacinth was very curious and +sat down beside him and fetched him bread and wine. Then the man +parted his white beard and told stories until late at night and +Hyacinth did not stir nor did he tire of listening. As far as one +could learn afterward the man had related much about foreign lands, +unknown regions, astonishingly wondrous things, staying there three +days and creeping down into deep pits with Hyacinth. Roseblossom +cursed the old sorcerer enough, for Hyacinth was all eagerness for his +tales and cared for nothing, scarcely even eating a little food. +Finally the man took his departure, not, however, without leaving +Hyacinth a booklet that not a soul could read. The youth had even +given him fruit, bread, and wine to take along and had accompanied him +a long way. Then he came back melancholy and began an entirely new +mode of life. Roseblossom grieved for him very pitifully, for from +that time on he paid little attention to her and always kept to +himself. + +Now it came about that he returned home one day and was like one +new-born. He fell on his parents' neck and wept. "I must depart for +foreign lands," he said; "the strange old woman in the forest told me +that I must get well again; she threw the book into the fire and urged +me to come to you and ask for your blessing. Perhaps I shall be back +soon, perhaps never more. Say good-bye to Roseblossom for me. I should +have liked to speak to her, I do not know what is the matter, +something drives me away; whenever I want to think of old times, +mightier thoughts rush in immediately; my peace is gone, my courage +and love with it, I must go in quest of them. I should like to tell +you whither, but I do not know myself; thither where dwells the mother +of all things, the veiled virgin. For her my heart burns. Farewell!" + +He tore himself away and departed. His parents lamented and shed +tears. Roseblossom kept in her chamber and wept bitterly. Hyacinth now +hastened as fast as he could through valleys and wildernesses, across +mountains and streams, toward the mysterious country. Everywhere he +asked men and animals, rocks and trees, for the sacred goddess (Isis). +Some laughed, some were silent, nowhere did he receive an answer. At +first he passed through wild, uninhabited regions, mist and clouds +obstructed his path, it was always storming; later he found unbounded +deserts of glowing hot sand, and as he wandered his mood changed, time +seemed to grow longer, and his inner unrest was calmed. He became more +tranquil and the violent excitement within him was gradually +transformed to a gentle but strong impulse, which took possession of +his whole nature. It seemed as though many years lay behind him. Now, +too, the region again became richer and more varied, the air warm and +blue, the path more level; green bushes attracted him with their +pleasant shade but he did not understand their language, nor did they +seem to speak, and yet they filled his heart with verdant colors, with +quiet and freshness. Mightier and mightier grew within him that sweet +longing, broader and softer the leaves, noisier and happier the birds +and animals, balmier the fruits, darker the heavens, warmer the air +and more fiery his love; faster and faster passed the Time, as though +it knew that it was approaching the goal. + +One day he came upon a crystal spring and a bevy of flowers that were +going down to a valley between black columns reaching to the sky. With +familiar words they greeted him kindly. "My dear countrymen," he said, +"pray, where am I to find the sacred abode of Isis? It must be +somewhere in this vicinity, and you are probably better acquainted +here than I." "We, too, are only passing through this region," the +flowers answered; "a family of spirits is traveling and we are making +ready the road and preparing lodgings for them; but we came through a +region lately where we heard her name called. Just walk upward in the +direction from which we are coming and you will be sure to learn +more." The flowers and the spring smiled as they said this, offered +him a drink of fresh water, and went on. + +Hyacinth followed their advice, asked and asked, and finally reached +that long-sought dwelling concealed behind palms and other choice +plants. His heart beat with infinite longing and the most delicious +yearning thrilled him in this abode of the eternal seasons. Amid +heavenly fragrance he fell into slumber, since naught but dreams might +lead him to the most sacred place. To the tune of charming melodies +and in changing harmonies did his dream guide him mysteriously through +endless apartments filled with curious things. Everything seemed so +familiar to him and yet amid a splendor that he had never seen; then +even the last tinge of earthliness vanished as though dissipated in +the air, and he stood before the celestial virgin. He lifted the +filmy, shimmering veil and Roseblossom fell into his arms. From afar a +strain of music accompanied the mystery of the loving reunion, the +outpourings of their longing, and excluded all that was alien from +this delightful spot. After that Hyacinth lived many years with +Roseblossom near his happy parents and comrades, and innumerable +grandchildren thanked the mysterious old woman for her advice and her +fire; for at that time people got as many children as they wanted. + + + + +APHORISMS[33] + +By NOVALIS + +TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC H. HEDGE + +Where no gods are, spectres rule. + +The best thing that the French achieved by their Revolution, was a +portion of Germanity. + +Germanity is genuine popularity, and therefore an ideal. + +Where children are, there is the golden age. + +Spirit is now active here and there: when will Spirit be active in the +whole? When will mankind, in the mass, begin to consider? + +Nature is pure Past, foregone freedom; and therefore, throughout, the +soil of history. + +The antithesis of body and spirit is one of the most remarkable and +dangerous of all antitheses. It has played an important part in +history. + +Only by comparing ourselves, as men, with other rational beings, could +we know what we truly are, what position we occupy. + +The history of Christ is as surely poetry as it is history. And, in +general, only that history is history which might also be fable. + +The Bible begins gloriously with Paradise, the symbol of youth, and +ends with the everlasting kingdom, with the holy city. The history of +every man should be a Bible. + +Prayer is to religion what thinking is to philosophy. To pray is to +make religion. + +The more sinful man feels himself, the more Christian he is. + +Christianity is opposed to science, to art, to enjoyment in the proper +sense. + +It goes forth from the common man. It inspires the great majority of +the limited on earth. + +It is the germ of all democracy, the highest fact in the domain of the +popular. + +Light is the symbol of genuine self-possession. Therefore light, +according to analogy, is the action of the self-contact of matter. +Accordingly, day is the consciousness of the planet, and while the +sun, like a god, in eternal self-action, inspires the centre, one +planet after another closes one eye for a longer or shorter time, and +with cool sleep refreshes itself for new life and contemplation. +Accordingly, here, too, there is religion. For is the life of the +planets aught else but sun-worship? + +The Holy Ghost is more than the Bible. This should be our teacher of +religion, not the dead, earthly, equivocal letter. + +All faith is miraculous, and worketh miracles. + +Sin is indeed the real evil in the world. All calamity proceeds from +that. He who understands sin, understands virtue and Christianity, +himself and the world. + +The greatest of miracles is a virtuous act. + +If a man could suddenly believe, in sincerity, that he was moral, he +would be so. + +We need not fear to admit that man has a preponderating tendency to +evil. So much the better is he by nature, for only the unlike +attracts. + +Everything distinguished (peculiar) deserves ostracism. Well for it if +it ostracizes itself. Everything absolute must quit the world. + +A time will come, and that soon, when all men will be convinced that +there can be no king without a republic, and no republic without a +king; that both are as inseparable as body and soul. The true king +will be a republic, the true republic a king. + +In cheerful souls there is no wit. Wit shows a disturbance of the +equipoise. + +Most people know not how interesting they are, what interesting things +they really utter. A true representation of themselves, a record and +estimate of their sayings, would make them astonished at themselves, +would help them to discover in themselves an entirely new world. + +Man is the Messiah of Nature. + +The soul is the most powerful of all poisons. It is the most +penetrating and diffusible stimulus. + +Every sickness is a musical problem; the cure is the musical solution. + +Inoculation with death, also, will not be wanting in some future +universal therapy. + +The idea of a perfect health is interesting only in a scientific point +of view. Sickness is necessary to individualization. + +If God could be man, he can also be stone, plant, animal, element, and +perhaps, in this way, there is a continuous redemption in Nature. + +Life is a disease of the spirit, a passionate activity. Rest is the +peculiar property of the spirit. From the spirit comes gravitation. + +As nothing can be free, so, too, nothing can be forced, but spirit. + +A space-filling individual is a body; a time-filling individual is a +soul. + +It should be inquired whether Nature has not essentially changed with +the progress of culture. + +All activity ceases when knowledge comes. The state of knowing is +_eudæmonism_, blest repose of contemplation, heavenly quietism. + +Miracles, as contradictions of Nature, are _amathematical_. But there +are no miracles in this sense. What we so term, is intelligible +precisely by means of mathematics; for nothing is miraculous to +mathematics. + +In music, mathematics appears formally, as revelation, as creative +idealism. All enjoyment is musical, consequently mathematical. The +highest life is mathematics. + +There may be mathematicians of the first magnitude who cannot cipher. +One can be a great cipherer without a conception of mathematics. + +Instinct is genius in Paradise, before the period of self-abstraction +(self-recognition). + +The fate which oppresses us is the sluggishness of our spirit. By +enlargement and cultivation of our activity, we change ourselves into +fate. Everything appears to stream in upon us, because we do not +stream out. We are negative, because we choose to be so; the more +positive we become, the more negative will the world around us be, +until, at last, there is no more negative, and we are all in all. God +wills gods. + +All power appears only in transition. Permanent power is stuff. + +Every act of introversion--every glance into our interior--is at the +same time ascension, going up to heaven, a glance at the veritable +outward. + +Only so far as a man is happily married to himself, is he fit for +married life and family life, generally. + +One must never confess that one loves one's self. The secret of this +confession is the life-principle of the only true and eternal love. + +We conceive God as personal, just as we conceive ourselves personal. +God is just as personal and as individual as we are; for what we call +I is not our true I, but only its off glance. + + + + +HYMN TO NIGHT (1800) + +By NOVALIS + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL B. THOMAS + +Who, that hath life and the gift of perception, loves not more than +all the marvels seen far and wide in the space about him Light, the +all-gladdening, with its colors, with its beams and its waves, its +mild omnipresence as the arousing day? The giant world of restless +stars breathes it, as were it the innermost soul of life, and lightly +floats in its azure flood; the stone breathes it, sparkling and ever +at rest, and the dreamy, drinking plant, and the savage, ardent, +manifold-fashioned beast; but above all the glorious stranger with the +thoughtful eyes, the airy step, and the lightly-closed, melodious +lips. Like a king of terrestrial nature it calls every power to +countless transformations, it forms and dissolves innumerable +alliances and surrounds every earthly creature with its heavenly +effulgence. Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the +realms of the world. + +Downward I turn my eyes to Night, the holy, ineffable, mysterious. Far +below lies the world, sunk in a deep vault; void and lonely is its +place. Deep melancholy is wafted through the chords of the breast. In +drops of dew I'd fain sink down and mingle with the ashes. Far-off +memories, desires of youth, dreams of childhood, long life's brief +joys and vain hopes appear in gray garments like the evening mist +after sunset. Light has pitched its gay tents in other regions. Will +it perchance never return to its children, who are waiting for it with +the faith of innocence? + +What is it that suddenly wells up so forebodingly from beneath the +heart and smothers the gentle breath of melancholy? Dark Night, dost +thou also take pleasure in us? What hast thou beneath thy mantle which +touches my soul with invisible force? Precious balsam drops from the +bunch of poppies in thy hand. Thou raisest up the heavy wings of the +soul; vaguely and inexpressibly we feel ourselves moved. Joyously +fearful, I see an earnest face, which gently and reverently bends over +me, and amid endlessly entangled locks shows the sweet youth of the +mother. How poor and childish does Light seem to me now! How joyful +and blessed the departure of day! Only for that reason, then, because +Night turns thy servants from thee, didst thou scatter in the wide +expanse of space the shining stars, to make known thine omnipotence +and thy return, during the periods of thine absence? More heavenly +than those twinkling stars seem to us the everlasting eyes which Night +has opened within us. Farther they see than the palest of those +numberless hosts; not needing light, they fathom the depths of a +loving heart, filling a higher space with unspeakable delight. + +Praise be to the queen of the world, to the high harbinger of holy +worlds, to the fostress of blissful love! She sends thee to me, gentle +sweetheart, lovely sun of the night. Now I am awake, for I am thine +and mine; thou hast proclaimed to me that night is life and made a man +of me. Consume my body with spiritual fire, that I may ethereally +blend with thee, and then the bridal night may last forever. + + + + +"THOUGH NONE THY NAME SHOULD CHERISH" [34] + + Though none Thy Name should cherish, + My faith shall be the same, + Lest gratitude should perish + And earth be brought to shame. + With meekness Thou did'st suffer + The pangs of death for me, + With joy then I would offer + This heart for aye to Thee. + +[Illustration: #THE QUEEN OF NIGHT# _From the painting by Moritz von +Schwind_] + + I weep with strong emotion + That death has been Thy lot, + And yet that Thy devotion + Thy people have forgot. + The blessings of salvation + Thy perfect love has won, + Yet who in any nation + Regards what Thou hast done 3 + + With love Thou hast protected + Each man his whole life through; + Though all Thy care rejected, + No less would'st Thou be true. + Such love as Thine must vanquish + The proudest soul at last, + 'Twill turn to Thee in anguish + And to Thy knees cling fast. + + Thine influence hath bound me; + Oh, if it be Thy will, + Be evermore around me, + Be present with me still! + At length too shall the others + Look up and long for rest, + And all my loving brothers + Shall sink upon Thy breast. + + + + +TO THE VIRGIN[35] + + A thousand hands, devoutly tender, + Have sought thy beauty to express, + But none, oh Mary, none can render, + As my soul sees, thy loveliness. + + I gaze till earth's confusion fadeth + Like to a dream, and leaves behind + A heaven of sweetness which pervadeth + My whole rapt being--heart and mind. + + + + +FRIEDRICH HÖLDERLIN + + * * * * * + +HYPERION'S SONG OF FATE [36] (1799) + + Ye wander there in the light + On flower-soft fields, ye blest immortal Spirits. + Radiant godlike zephyrs + Touch you as gently + As the hand of a master might + Touch the awed lute-string. + Free of fate as the slumbering + Infant, breathe the divine ones. + Guarded well + In the firm-sheathed bud + Blooms eternal + Each happy soul; + And their rapture-lit eyes + Shine with a tranquil + Unchanging lustre. + But we, 'tis our portion, + We never may be at rest. + They stumble, they vanish, + The suffering mortals, + Hurtling from one hard + Hour to another, + Like waves that are driven + From cliff-side to cliff-side, + Endlessly down the uncertain abyss. + + + + +EVENING PHANTASIE[36] (1799) + +Before his but reposes in restful shade The ploughman; wreaths of +smoke from his hearth ascend. And sweet to wand'rers comes the tone of +Evening bells from the peaceful village. + +[Illustration: #FRIEDRICH HÖLDERLIN# E. HADER] + + The sailor too puts into the haven now, + In distant cities cheerily dies away + The busy tumult; in the arbor + Gleams the festal repast of friendship. + + But whither I? In labor, for slight reward + We mortals live; in alternate rest and toil + Contentment dwells; but why then sleeps not + Hid in my bosom the thorn unsparing? + + The ev'ning heaven blooms as with springtime's hue; + Uncounted bloom the roses, the golden world + Seems wrapt in peace; oh, bear me thither, + Purple-wrought clouds! And may for me there + + Both love and grief dissolve in the joyous light! + But see, as if dispelled by the foolish prayer, + The wonder fades! 'Tis dark, and lonely + Under the heaven I stand as erstwhile. + + Come then to me, soft Sleep. Overmuch requires + The heart; and yet thou too at the last shalt fade, + Oh youth, thou restless dream-pursuer! + Peaceful and happy shall age then follow. + + + + + LUDWIG TIECK + + * * * * * + +PUSS IN BOOTS (1797) + +_A fairy-tale for children in three acts, with interludes, a +prologue and an epilogue_. + +TRANSLATED BY LILLIE WINTER, B.A. + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + + + THE KING + + THE PRINCESS, _his daughter_ + + PRINCE NATHANIEL _of Malsinki_ + + LEANDER, _Court scholar_ + + HANSWURST, _Court fool_ + + _A Groom of the Chamber_ + + _The Cook_ + + LORENZ } + BARTHEL } _Peasant brothers_ + GOTTLIEB } + + _Hinze, a tom-cat_ + + _A Tavern-keeper_ + + KUNZ } + MICHEL } _Peasants_ + + _A Bugbear_ + + _A Peace-maker_ + + _The Playwright_ + + _A Soldier_ + + _Two Hussars_ + + _Two Lovers_ + + _Servants_ + + _Musicians_ + + _A Peasant_ + + _The Prompter_ + + _A Shoemaker_ + + _A Historian_ + + FISCHER + + MÃœLLER + + BÖTTICHER + + LEUTNER + + WIESENER + + WIESENER'S NEIGHBOR + + _Elephants_ + + _Lions_ + + _Bears_ + + _An officer_ + + _Eagles and other birds_ + + _A rabbit_ + + _Partridges_ + + _Jupiter_ + + _Terkaleon_ + + _The Machinist_ + + _Spirits_ + + _Monkeys_ + + _The Public_. + + +[Illustration: #LUDWIG TIECK# VOGEL VON VOGELSTEIN] + +PROLOGUE + + +_The scene is laid in the pit, the candles are already lighted, the +musicians are gathered in the orchestra. The theatre is filled, people +talking in confusion, some arriving, etc_. + +FISCHER, MÃœLLER, SCHLOSSER, BÖTTICHER, _in the pit_ + +FISCHER. + +Say, but I am curious, Herr Müller, what do you think of today's play? + +MÃœLLER. + +I should be more likely to expect the sky to fall in than to see such +a play at our theatre. + +FISCHER. + +Do you know the play? + +MÃœLLER. + +Not at all. A strange title that: _Puss in Boots_. I do hope they're +not going to present that child's play at the theatre. + +SCHLOSS. + +Why, is it an opera? + +FISCHER. + +Anything but that; the bill says: _A Fairy-tale for Children_. + +SCHLOSS. + +A fairy-tale? But in Heaven's name, we're not children, are we, that +they want to present such pieces for us? They certainly won't put an +actual cat on the stage, will they? + +FISCHER. + +It may turn out to be an imitation of the new Arcadians, a sort of +Terkaleon. + +MÃœLLER. + +Now that wouldn't be bad, for I've been wishing this long while to see +some time such a wonderful opera without music. + +FISCHER. + +Without music it is absurd, for, my dear friend, we're beyond such +childish nonsense, such superstition; enlightenment has borne its +natural fruits. + +MÃœLLER. + +It may turn out to be a regular picture of domestic life, and the cat +is only a joke, something like a jest, so to speak, a motive, if I may +call it that. + +SCHLOSS. + +To tell you my honest opinion, I take the whole thing to be +a trick to spread sentiment among the people, give them suggestions. +You'll see if I'm not right. A revolutionary play, as far as I can +understand. + +FISCHER. + +I agree with you, too, for otherwise the style would be +horribly offensive. For my part I must admit I never could believe in +witches or spirits, not to mention _Puss in Boots_. + +SCHLOSS. + +The age of these phantoms is past. Why, there comes Leutner; perhaps +he can tell us more. + + [_Leutner pushes himself through the crowd_.] + +LEUTNER. + +Good evening, good evening! Well, how are you? + +MÃœLLER. + +Do tell us, will you, what sort of play we're having tonight? + + [_The music begins_.] + +LEUTNER. + +So late already? Why, I've come in the nick of time. About the play? I +have just been speaking with the author; he is at the theatre and +helping dress the tom-cat. + +MANY VOICES. + +Is helping?--The author?--The cat? So a cat will appear, after all? + +LEUTNER. + +Yes, indeed, why his name is even on the bill. + +FISCHER. + +I say, who's playing that part? + +LEUTNER. + +The strange actor, of course, the great man. + +MÃœLLER. + +Indeed? But how can they possibly play such nonsense? + +LEUTNER. + +For a change, the author thinks. + +FISCHER. + +A fine change, why not Bluebeard too, and Prince Kobold? Indeed! Some +excellent subjects for the drama! + +MÃœLLER. + +But how are they going to dress the cat?--And I wonder whether he +wears real boots? + +LEUTNER. + +I am just as impatient as all of you. + +FISCHER. + +But shall we really have such stuff played to us? We've come here out +of curiosity, to be sure, but still we have taste. + +MÃœLLER. + +I feel like making a noise. + +LEUTNER. + +It's rather cold, too. I'll make a start. (_He stamps with his feet, +the others fall in_.) + +WIESENER (_on the other side_). + +What does this pounding mean? + +LEUTNER. + +That's to rescue good taste. + +WIESENER. + +Well, then I won't be the last, either. (_He stamps_.) + +VOICES. + +Be quiet, or you can't hear the music. (_All are stamping_.) + +SCHLOSS. + +But, I say, we really ought to let them go through the play, for, +after all, we've given our money anyhow; afterward we'll pound so +they'll hear us out doors. + +ALL. + +No, they'll now--taste--rules--art--otherwise everything will go to +ruin. + +A CANDLE-SNUFFER. + +Gentlemen, shall the police be sent in? + +LEUTNER. + +We have paid, we represent the public, and therefore we will have our +own good taste and no farces. + +THE PLAYWRIGHT (_behind the scenes_). + +The play will begin immediately. + +MÃœLLER. + +No play--we want no play--we want good taste-- + +ALL. + +Good taste! good taste! + +PLAYWR. + +I am puzzled--what do you mean, if I may ask? + +SCHLOSS. + +Good taste! Are you an author and don't even know what good taste +means? + +PLAYWR. + +Consider a young beginner-- + +SCHLOSS. + +We want to know nothing about beginners--we want to see a decent +play-a play in good taste! + +PLAYWR. + +What sort? What kind? + +MÃœLLER. + +Domestic stories--elopements--brothers and sisters from the +country--something like that. + + [_The Author comes out from behind the curtain_.] + +PLAYWR. + +Gentlemen-- + +ALL. + +Is that the author? + +FISCHER. + +He doesn't look much like an author. + +SCHLOSS. + +Impertinent fellow! + +MÃœLLER. + +His hair isn't even trimmed. + +PLAYWR. + +Gentlemen-pardon my boldness. + +FISCHER. + +How can you write such plays? Why haven't you trained yourself? + +PLAYWR. + +Grant me just one minute's audience before you condemn me. I know that +the honorable public must pass judgment on the author, and that from +them there is no appeal, but I know the justice of an honorable +public, and I am assured they will not frighten me away from a course +in which I so need their indulgent guidance. + +FISCHER. + +He doesn't talk badly. + +MÃœLLER. + +He's more courteous than I thought. + +SCHLOSS. + +He has respect for the public, after all. + +PLAYWR. + +I am ashamed to present to such illustrious judges the modest +inspiration of my Muse; it is only the skill of our actors which still +consoles me to some extent, otherwise I should be sunk in despair +without further ado. + +FISCHER. + +I am sorry for him. + +MÃœLLER. + +A good fellow! + +PLAYWR. + +When I heard your worthy stamping--nothing has ever frightened me so, +I am still pale and trembling and do not myself comprehend how I have +attained to the courage of thus appearing before you. + +LEUTNER. + +Well, clap, then! (_All clap_.) + +PLAYWR. + +I wanted to make an attempt to furnish amusement by means of humor, by +cheerfulness and real jokes, and hope I have been successful, since +our newest plays so seldom afford us an opportunity to laugh. + +[Illustration: #PUSS IN BOOTS# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +MÃœLLER. + +That's certainly true! + +LEUTNER. + +He's right--that man. + +SCHLOSS. + +Bravo! Bravo! + +ALL. + +Bravo! Bravo! (_They clap_.) + +PLAYWR. + +I leave you, honored sirs, to decide now whether my attempt is to be +rejected entirely--trembling, I withdraw, and the play will begin. +(_He bows very respectfully and goes behind the curtain_.) + +ALL. + +Bravo! Bravo! + +VOICES FROM THE GALLERY. + +_Da capo!_-- + +[_All are laughing. The music begins again; meanwhile the curtain +rises_.] + + + +ACT I + +_Small room in a peasant's cottage_ + +LORENZ, BARTHEL, GOTTLIEB. The tom-cat HINZE, _is lying on a bench by +the stove_. + +LORENZ. + +I think that after the death of our father, our little fortune can be +divided easily. You know the deceased has left only three pieces of +property--a horse, an ox, and that cat there. I, as the eldest, will +take the horse; Barthel, second after me, gets the ox, and so the cat +is naturally left for our youngest brother. + +LEUTNER (_in the pit_). + +For Heaven's sake! Did any one ever see such an exposition! Just see +how far dramatic art has degenerated! + +MÃœLLER. + +But I understand everything perfectly well. + +LEUTNER. + +That's just the trouble, you should give the spectator a cunning +suggestion, not throw the matter right into his teeth. + +MÃœLLER. + +But now you know, don't you, where you are? + +LEUTNER. + +Yes, but you certainly mustn't know that so quickly; why, the very +best part of the fun consists in getting at it little by little. + +BARTHEL. + +I think, brother Gottlieb, you will also be satisfied with this +division; unfortunately you are the youngest, and so you must grant us +some privileges. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, to be sure. + +SCHLOSS. + +But why doesn't the court of awards interfere in the inheritance? What +improbabilities! + +LORENZ. + +So then we're going now, dear Gottlieb; farewell, don't let time hang +heavy on your hands. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Good-bye. + + [_Exit the brothers_.] + +GOTTLIEB (_alone_). + +They are going away--and I am alone. We all three have our lodgings. +Lorenz, of course, can till the ground with his horse, Barthel can +slaughter and pickle his ox and live on it a while--but what am I, +poor unfortunate, to do with my cat? At the most, I can have a muff +for the winter made out of his fur, but I think he is even shedding it +now. There he lies asleep quite comfortably--poor Hinze! Soon we shall +have to part. I am sorry I brought him up, I know him as I know +myself--but he will have to believe me, I cannot help myself, I must +really sell him. He looks at me as though he understood. I could +almost begin to cry. + + [_He walks up and down, lost in thought_.] + +MÃœLLER. + +Well, you see now, don't, you, that it's going to be a touching +picture of family life? The peasant is poor and without money; now, in +the direst need, he will sell his faithful pet to some susceptible +young lady, and in the end that will be the foundation of his good +fortune. Probably it is an imitation of Kotzebue's _Parrot_; here the +bird is replaced by a cat and the play runs on of itself. + +FISCHER. + +Now that it's working out this way, I am satisfied too. + +HINZE, the tom-cat (_rises, stretches, arches his back, yawns, then +speaks_). + +My dear Gottlieb--I really sympathize with you. + +GOTTLIEB (_astonished_). + +What, puss, you are speaking? + +THE CRITICS (_in the pit_). + +The cat is talking? What does that mean, pray? + +FISCHER. + +It's impossible for me to get the proper illusion here. + +MÃœLLER. + +Rather than let myself be disappointed like this I never want to see +another play all my life. + +HINZE. + +Why should I not be able to speak, Gottlieb? + +GOTTLIEB. + +I should not have suspected it; I never heard a cat speak in all my +life. + +HINZE. + +Because we do not join in every conversation, you think we're nothing +but dogs. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I think your only business is to catch mice. + +HINZE. + +If we had not, in our intercourse with human beings, got a certain +contempt for speech, we could all speak. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, I'll own that! But why don't you give any one an opportunity to +discover you? + +HINZE. + +That's to avoid responsibility, for if once the power of speech were +inflicted on us so-called animals, there wouldn't be any joy left in +the world. What isn't the dog compelled to do and learn! The horse! +They are foolish animals to show their intelligence, they must give +way entirely to their vanity; we cats still continue to be the freest +race because, with all our skill, we can act so clumsily that human +beings quite give up the idea of training us. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But why do you disclose all this to me? + +HINZE. + +Because you are a good, a noble man, one of the few who take no +delight in servility and slavery; see, that is why I disclose myself +to you completely and fully. + +GOTTLIEB (_gives him his hand_). + +Good friend! + +HINZE. + +Human beings labor under the delusion that the only remarkable thing +about us is that instinctive purring which arises from a certain +feeling of comfort; for that reason they often stroke us awkwardly and +then we usually purr to secure ourselves against blows. But if they +knew how to manage us in the right way, believe me, they would +accustom our good nature to everything, and Michel, your neighbor's +tom-cat, would even at times be pleased to jump through a hoop for the +king. + +GOTTLIEB. + +You're right in that. + +HINZE. + +I love you, Master Gottlieb, very much. You have never stroked me the +wrong way, you have let me sleep when I felt like it, you have +objected whenever your brothers wanted to take me up, to go with me +into the dark, and see the so-called electrical sparks--for all this I +now want to show my gratitude. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Noble-hearted Hinze! Ah, how unjustly do they speak ill of you and +scornfully, doubting your loyalty and devotion! My eyes are being +opened--how my knowledge of human nature is increasing and so +unexpectedly! + +FISCHER. + +Friends, where has our hope for a picture of family life gone to? + +LEUTNER. + +Why it is almost too nonsensical. + +SCHLOSS. + +I feel as though I were in a dream. + +HINZE. + +You are a good man, Master Gottlieb; but, do not take it ill of me, +you are somewhat narrow, confined--to speak out freely, not one of the +best heads. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Alas, no! + +HINZE. + +You don't know now, for example, what you want to do. + +GOTTLIEB. + +You read my thoughts perfectly. + +HINZE. + +If you had a muff made out of my fur-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Do not take it amiss, comrade, that this idea just passed through my +mind. + +HINZE. + +Why, no, it was an altogether human thought. Can you think of no way +of managing? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Not a thing! + +HINZE. + +You might carry me around and show me for money; but that is never a +sure means of support. + +GOTTLIEB. + +No. + +HINZE. + +You might publish a journal or a German paper, with the motto, _Homo +sum_--or a novel; I should be willing to collaborate with you--but +that is too much bother. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes. + +HINZE. + +Well, I'll see that I take even better care of you. Depend upon it, +you are yet to become very happy through me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +O, best, most noble man. (_He embraces him tenderly_.) + +HINZE. + +But you must also trust me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Entirely. Why, now I realize your honorable spirit. + +HINZE. + +Well, then, do me a favor and bring the shoemaker immediately to take +my measure for a pair of boots. + +GOTTLIEB. + +The shoemaker? Boots? + +HINZE. + +You are surprised, but in accomplishing what I intend to do for you, I +have to walk and run so much that I have to wear boots. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But why not shoes? + +HINZE. + +Master Gottlieb, you do not understand the matter; they must lend me +some dignity, an imposing air, in short, a certain manliness to which +one never attains in shoes. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, as you think best; but the shoemaker will be surprised. + +HINZE. + +Not at all; we must act only as if it were nothing remarkable that I +should wish to wear boots; one gets used to everything. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, indeed; why, my conversation with you has actually become quite +easy! But another thing; now that we have become such good friends, do +call me by my first name, too; why do you still want to stand on +ceremony with me? + +HINZE. + +As you like, Gottlieb. + +GOTTLIEB. + +There's the shoemaker passing. Hey! Pst! Friend Leichdorn! Will you +please stop a moment? + + [_The shoemaker comes in_.] + +SHOEMAK. + +God bless you! What's the news? + +GOTTLIEB. + +I have ordered no work from you for a long time. + +SHOEMAK. + +No, my friend, all in all, I have very little to do now. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I should like to have another pair of boots made-- + +SHOEMAK. + +Please take a seat. I have a measure with me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Not for myself, but for my young friend there. + +SHOEMAK. + +For this one here? Very well. + +HINZE (_sits on a chair and holds out his right leg_). + +SHOEMAK. + +Now how should you like it, pussy? + +HINZE. + +In the first place, good soles, then brown flaps, and, above all +things, stiff. + +SHOEMAK. + +Very well. (_He takes the measure_.) Will you be so kind as to draw +your claws in a bit--or rather nails? I have already scratched myself. +(_He takes the measure_.) + +HINZE. + +And they must be finished quickly. (_As his leg is being stroked he +begins to purr involuntarily_.) + +SHOEMAK. + +The pussy is comfortable. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, he's a good-humored fellow. He has just come from school, what +they usually call a "smarty." + +SHOEMAK. + +Well, good-bye. + + [_Exit_.] + +GOTTLIEB. + +Wouldn't you perhaps like to have your whiskers trimmed too? + +HINZE. + +On no account, I look so much more respectable, and you certainly must +know that cats immediately become unmanly after that. A tom-cat +without whiskers is but a contemptible creature. + +GOTTLIEB. + +If I only knew what you are planning! + +HINZE. + +You'll find out in due time. Now I want to take a little walk on the +roofs; there's a fine, open view there and you're likely to catch a +dove too. + +GOTTLIEB. + +As a good friend, I want to warn you not to let yourself be caught at +it. + +HINZE. + +Don't worry, I'm not a novice. Meanwhile, good-bye. + + [_Exit_.] + +GOTTLIEB (_alone_). + +Natural history always says that cats cannot be trusted and that they +belong to the lion family, and I am in such fearful dread of a lion. Now +if the cat had no conscience, he could run away from me afterward with +the boots for which I must now give my last penny and then sell them +somewhere for nothing, or it's possible that he wants to make a bid for +favor with the shoemaker and then go into his service. But he has a +tom-cat already. No, Hinze, my brothers have betrayed me, and now I +will try my luck with you. He spoke so nobly, he was so touched--there +he sits on the roof yonder, stroking his whiskers--forgive me, my fine +friend, that I could even for a moment doubt your magnanimity. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISCHER. + +What nonsense! + +MÃœLLER. + +What does the cat need those boots for?--to be able to walk better? +Silly stuff! + +SCHLOSS. + +But it seems as though I saw a cat before me. + +LEUTNER. + +Be still, the scene is changing. + +_Hall in the royal palace_ + +_The_ KING _with crown and sceptre. The_ PRINCESS, _his daughter_ + +KING. + +A thousand handsome princes, my precious daughter, have already sued +for your hand and laid their kingdoms at your feet, but you have +continued to refuse them. Tell us the reason for this, my treasure. + +PRINCESS. + +My most gracious father, I have always believed that my heart must +first feel certain emotions before my neck would bow under the yoke of +marriage. For a marriage without love, they say, is truly hell upon +earth. + +KING. + +That is right, my dear daughter. Ah, indeed, indeed, have you spoken +words of truth: a hell on earth! Alas, if only I were not qualified to +discuss it! Indeed I should have preferred to remain ignorant! But as +it is, dear treasure, I have my tale to tell, as they say. Your +mother, my consort of blessed memory--ah, Princess, see, the tears +rush to my eyes even in my old age--she was a good queen, she wore the +crown with an indescribable air of majesty--but she gave me very +little peace. Well, may her ashes rest in peace among her royal +relatives. + +PRINCESS. + +Your majesty excites yourself too much. + +KING. + +When the memory of it returns to me, O my child, on my knees I would +entreat you--do be careful in marrying! It is a great truth that linen +and a bridegroom must not be bought by candle-light, a truth which +should be found in every book. What did I suffer! No day passed +without a quarrel; I could not sleep peacefully, could not conduct my +administrative business quietly, I could not think of anything, could +not read a book--I was always interrupted. And still my spirit +sometimes yearns for you, my blessed Klothilde! My eyes smart--I am a +real old fool. + +PRINCESS (_tenderly_). + +My father! + +KING. + +I tremble to think of the dangers that face you, for, even if you do +fall in love now, my daughter, ah! you should just see what thick +books wise men have filled on this subject--see, your very passion, +then, can also make you miserable. The happiest, the most blissful +emotion can ruin us; moreover, love is, as it were, a magic cup; +instead of nectar we often drink poison; then our pillow is wet with +tears; all hope, all consolation are gone. (_The sound of a trumpet is +heard_.) Why, it isn't dinner-time yet, is it? Probably another new +prince who wants to fall in love with you. Take care, my daughter; you +are my only child, and you do not realize how near my heart your +happiness lies. (_He kisses her and leaves the hall. Applause is heard +in the pit_.) + +FISCHER. + +That's a scene for you, in which you can find sound common sense. + +SCHLOSS. + +I am also moved. + +MÃœLLER. + +He's an excellent sovereign. + +FISCHER. + +Now he didn't exactly have to appear with a crown. + +SCHLOSS. + +It entirely spoils the sympathy one feels for him as an affectionate +father. + +THE PRINCESS (_alone_). + +I do not understand at all; why, not one of the princes has yet +touched my heart with love. I always keep in mind my father's +warnings; he is a great sovereign and nevertheless a good father too, +and is always thinking of my happiness; if only he did not have such a +hasty temper! But fortune and misfortune are always coupled thus. My +joy I find in the arts and sciences, for books constitute all my +happiness. + +_The_ PRINCESS, LEANDER, _the court scholar_. + +LEANDER. + +Well, your Royal Highness! (_They sit down_.) + +PRINCESS. + +Here. Master Leander, is my essay. I have entitled it _Thoughts at +Night_. + +LEANDER (_reads_). + +Excellent! Inspired! Ah! I feel as though I hear the hour of midnight +striking. When did you write it? + +PRINCESS. + +Yesterday noon, after dinner. + +LEANDER. + +Beautifully conceived! Truly, beautifully conceived! But with your +most gracious permission! _The moon shines sadly down in the world._ +If you will not take it amiss, it should read: _into the world_. + +PRINCESS. + +Very well, I will note that for the future; it's too stupid that +poetry should be made so hard for us; one can't write five or six +lines without making a mistake. + +LEANDER. + +That's the obstinacy of language, so to speak. + +PRINCESS. + +Are not the emotions tenderly and delicately phrased! + +LEANDER. + +Indescribably! It is scarcely comprehensible how a feminine mind could +write such a thing. + +PRINCESS. + +Now I might try my hand at moonlight descriptions. Don't you think so? + +LEANDER. + +Naturally you keep going farther all the time; you keep rising higher. + +PRINCESS. + +I have also begun a piece: _The Unhappy Misanthrope; or, Lost Peace +and Restored Innocence!_ + +LEANDER. + +Even the title itself is fascinating. + +PRINCESS. + +And then I feel an incomprehensible desire within me to write some +horrible ghost story. As I said before, if it were not for those +grammatical errors! + +LEANDER. + +Do not worry about that, incomparable princess! They are easily +corrected. + + [_Groom from the Chamber enters._] + +GROOM. + +The Prince of Malsinki, who has just arrived, wishes to wait on your +royal highness. + + [_Exit._] + +LEANDER. + +Your obedient servant. + + [_Exit._] + + +_Prince_ NATHANIEL _of Malsinki. The_ KING + +KING. + +Here, Prince, is my daughter, a young, simple creature, as you +see her before you. (_Aside._) Be polite, my daughter, courteous; he +is an illustrious prince from afar; his country is not even on my map, +I have already looked it up; I have an amazing amount of respect for +him. + +PRINCESS. + +I am glad to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance. + +NATHAN. + +Beautiful Princess, the report of your beauty has been spread +so widely over the whole world that I have come here from a far +distant corner for the happiness of seeing you face to face. + +KING. + +Indeed it is astonishing, how many countries and kingdoms there +are! You would not believe how many thousand crown-princes have been +here already, to pay their addresses to my daughter; sometimes they +arrive by dozens, especially when the weather is fine--and now you +have come all the way from--I beg your pardon, topography is such a +very extensive subject--in what region does your country lie? + +NATHAN. + +Mighty king, if you travel from here first down the great +highway, then you turn to the right and go on; but when you reach a +mountain, turn to the left again, then you go to the ocean and sail +directly north (if the wind is favorable, of course), and so, if the +journey is successful, you reach my dominions in a year and a half. + +KING. + +The deuce! I must have my court scholar explain that to me. You +are probably a neighbor of the North Pole or Zodiac, or something like +that, I suppose! + +NATHAN. + +Not that I know of. + +KING. + +Perhaps somewhere near the savages? + +NATHAN. + +I beg your pardon, all my subjects are very tame. + +KING. + +But you must live confoundedly far away. I can't get a clear +idea of it yet. + +NATHAN. + +The geography of my country is still not exactly fixed; I +expect to discover more every day; and then it may easily come about +that we shall even become neighbors in the end. + +KING. + +That will be splendid! And if, after all, a few countries still +stand in our way, I will help you in your discoveries. My neighbor is +not a good friend of mine, so to speak, and he has a fine country; all +the raisins come from there; why, I should be only too glad to have +it! But another thing; do tell me, how, living so far away, can you +speak our language so fluently! + +NATHAN. + +Hush! + +KING. + +What? + +NATHAN. + +Hush! hush! + +KING. + +I do not understand. + +NATHANIEL, (_softly to him_). + +Do be quiet about it, pray, for +otherwise the audience down there will surely notice that it is really +very unnatural. + +KING. + +It doesn't matter. They clapped before and so I can afford to +take a chance. + +NATHAN. + +You see, it is only for the sake of the drama that I speak your +language; for otherwise, of course, the matter is incomprehensible. + +KING. + +Ah, so! Well, come, Prince, the table is set! + +[_The_ PRINCE _escorts the princess out, the_ KING _precedes_.] + +FISCHER. + +Cursed improbabilities there are in this play! + +SCHLOSS. + +And the king doesn't remain at all true to his character. + +LEUTNER. + +Why, nothing but the natural should ever be presented on the +stage! The prince should speak an altogether unknown language and have +an interpreter with him; the princess should make grammatical errors, +since she herself admits that she writes incorrectly. + +MÃœLLER. + +Of course! Of course! The whole thing is unquestionable +nonsense; the author himself is always forgetting what he has said the +moment before. + +_The scene is laid in front of a tavern._ + +LORENZ, KUNZ, MICHEL _are sitting on a bench. The_ HOST + +LORENZ. + +I shall have to be going again soon! I still have a long way +home. + +HOST. + +You are a subject of the king, aren't you? + +LORENZ. + +Yes, indeed; what do you call your good ruler? + +HOST. + +He is just called Bugbear. + +LORENZ. + +That is a foolish title. Why, has he no other name? + +HOST. + +When he has edicts issued, they always read: For the good of the +public, the _Law_ demands--hence I believe that is his real name. All +petitions, too, are always laid before the _Law_. He is a fearful man. + +LORENZ. + +Still, I should rather be under a king; why, a king is more +dignified. They say the Bugbear is a very ungracious master. + +HOST. + +He is not especially gracious, that is true of course, but, on +the other hand, he is justice itself. Cases are even sent to him from +abroad and he must settle them. + +LORENZ. + +They say wonderful things about him; the story goes he can +transform himself into any animal. + +HOST. + +It is true, and then he travels around _incognito_ and spies out +the sentiments of his subjects; that's the very reason why we trust no +cat, no strange dog or horse, because we always think the ruler might +probably be inside of them. + +LORENZ. + +Then surely we are in a better position, too. Our king never +goes out without wearing his crown, his cloak, and his sceptre; by +these, he is known three hundred paces away. Well, take care of +yourselves. + + [_Exit._] + +HOST. + +Now he is already in his own country. + +KUNZ. + +Is the border line so near? + +HOST. + +Surely, that very tree belongs to the king; you can see from +this very spot everything that goes on in his country; this border +line here is a lucky thing for me. I should have been bankrupt long +ago if the deserters from over there had not supported me; almost +every day several come. + +MICHEL. + +Is the service there so hard? + +HOST. + +Not that; but running away is so easy, and just because it is so +strictly forbidden the fellows get such an exceptional desire to +desert. Look, I bet that's another one coming! + + [_A soldier comes running._] + +SOLDIER. + +A can of beer, host! Quick! + +HOST. + +Who are you? + +SOLDIER. + +A deserter. + +MICHEL. + +Perhaps 'twas his love for his parents which made him desert. +Poor fellow, do take pity on him, host. + +HOST. + +Why if he has money, there won't be any lack of beer. (_Goes +into the house_.) + + [_Two hussars come riding and dismount_.] + +1ST HUSS. + +Well, thank God, we've got so far! Your health, neighbor! + +SOLDIER. + +This is the border. + +2D HUSS. + +Yes, Heaven be thanked! Didn't we have to ride for the sake +of that fellow? Beer, host! + +HOST (_with several glasses_). + +Here, gentlemen, a fine, cool drink; +you are all pretty warm. + +1ST HUSS. + +Here, you rascal! To your health! + +SOLDIER. + +Best thanks, I will meantime hold your horses for you. + +2D HUSS. + +The fellow can run! It's good that the border is never so +very far away; for otherwise it would be deucedly hard service. + +1ST HUSS. + +Well, we must go back, I suppose. Good-bye, deserter! Much +luck on your way! + + [_They mount and ride away_.] + +HOST. + +Will you stay here? + +SOLDIER. + +No, I am going away; why I must enlist with the neighboring +duke. + +HOST. + +Say, come and see me when you desert again. + +SOLDIER. + +Certainly. Farewell! + +[_They shake hands. Exeunt soldier and guests, exit host into the +house. The curtain falls_.] + +INTERLUDE + +FISCHER. + +Why, it's getting wilder and wilder! What was the purpose of +the last scene, I wonder? + +LEUTNER. + +Nothing at all, it is entirely superfluous; only to introduce +some new nonsense. The theme of the cat is now lost entirely and there +is no fixed point of view at all. + +SCHLOSS. + +I feel exactly as though I were intoxicated. + +MÃœLLER. + +I say, in what period is the play supposed to be taking place? +The hussars, of course, are a recent invention. + +SCHLOSS. + +We simply shouldn't bear it, but stamp hard. Now we haven't +the faintest idea of what the play is coming to. + +FISCHER. + +And no love, either! Nothing in it for the heart, for the +imagination. + +LEUTNER. + +As soon as any more of that nonsense occurs, for my part at +least, I'll begin to stamp. + +WIESENER (_to his neighbor_). + +I like the play now. + +NEIGHBOR. + +Very fine, indeed, very fine; a great man, the author; he +has imitated the _Magic Flute_ well. + +WIESENER. + +I liked the hussars particularly well; people seldom take +the risk of bringing horses on the stage--and why not? They often have +more sense than human beings. I would rather see a good horse than +many a human being in the more modern plays. + +NEIGHBOR. + +The Moors in Kotzebue--a horse is after all nothing but +another kind of Moor. + +WIESENER. + +Do you not know to what regiment the hussars belonged + +NEIGHBOR. + +I did not even look at them carefully. Too bad they went +away so soon--indeed I'd rather like to see a whole play with nothing +but hussars. I like the cavalry so much. + +LEUTNER (_to_ BÖTTICHER). + +What do you think of all this? + +BÖTTICH. + +Why, I simply can't get the excellent acting of the man who +plays the cat out of my head. What a study! What art! What +observation! What costuming! + +SCHLOSS. + +That is true; he really does look like a large tom-cat. + +BÖTTICH. + +And just notice his whole mask, as I would rather call his +costume, for since he has so completely disguised his natural +appearance, this expression is far more fitting. But I say, God bless +the ancients when blessing is due. You probably do not know that the +ancients acted all parts, without exception, in masks, as you will +find in _Athenaeus, Pollux_ and others. It is hard, you see, to know +all these things so accurately, because one must now and then look up +those books oneself to find them. At the same time, however, one then +has the advantage of being able to quote them. There is a difficult +passage in Pausanias. + +FISCHER. + +You were going to be kind enough to speak of the cat. + +BÖTTICH. + +Why, yes; and I only meant to say all the preceding by the +way, hence I beg you most earnestly to consider it as a note; and, to +return to the cat, have you noticed, I wonder, that he is not one of +those black cats? No, on the contrary, he is almost entirely white and +has only a few black spots; that expresses his good-nature +excellently; moreover, the theme of the whole play, all the emotions +to which it should appeal, are suggested in this very fur. + +LEUTNER. + +That is true. + +FISCHER. + +The curtain is going up again! + + + +ACT II + +_Room in a peasant's house_ + +GOTTLIEB, HINZE. _Both are sitting at a small table and eating_. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Did it taste good? + +HINZE. + +Very good, very fine. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But now my fate must soon be determined, for otherwise I do +not know what I am to do. + +HINZE. + +Just have patience a few days longer; why, good fortune must +have some time to grow; who would expect to become happy all of a +sudden, so to speak? My good man, that happens only in books; in the +world of reality things do not move so quickly. + +FISCHER. + +Now just listen, the cat dares to speak of the world of +reality! I feel almost like going home, for I'm afraid I shall go mad. + +LEUTNER. + +It looks almost as if that is what the writer intended. + +MÃœLLER. + +A splendid kind of artistic enjoyment, to be mad, I must +admit! + +GOTTLIEB. + +If I only knew, dear Hinze, how you have come by this amount +of experience, this intelligence! + +HINZE. + +Are you, then, under the impression that it is in vain one lies +for days at the stove with one's eyes tight shut? I always kept +studying there quietly. In secret and unobserved does the power of the +intelligence grow; hence it is a sign that one has made the least +progress when one sometimes has a mind to crane one's neck around as +far as possible, so as to look back at the ground one has already +covered. Now do be kind enough to untie my napkin. + +GOTTLIEB (_does it_). + +A blessing on good food! (_They kiss._) Content +yourself with that. + +HINZE. + +I thank you from the bottom of my heart. + +GOTTLIEB. + +The boots fit very nicely, and you have a charming little +foot. + +HINZE. + +That is only because we always walk on our toes, as you must +already have read in your natural history. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I have great respect for you--on account of the boots. + +HINZE (_hangs a soldier's knapsack about his neck_). + +I am going now. +See, I have also made myself a bag with a drawing-string. + +GOTTLIEB. + +What's it all for? + +HINZE. + +Just let me alone! I want to be a hunter. Why, where is my +cane? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Here. + +HINZE. + +Well, then, good-bye. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB. + +A hunter? I can't understand the man. + + [_Exit._] + + +_Open Field_ + +HINZE (_with cane, knapsack, and bag_). + +Splendid weather! It's such a +beautiful, warm day; afterward I must lie down a bit in the sun. (_He +spreads out his bag._) Well, fortune, stand by me. Of course, when I +think that this capricious goddess of fortune so seldom favors +shrewdly laid plans, that she always ends up by disgracing the +intelligence of mortals, I feel as though I should lose all my +courage. Yet, be quiet, my heart; a kingdom is certainly worth the +trouble of working and sweating some for it! If only there are no dogs +around here; I can't bear those creatures at all; it is a race that I +despise because they so willingly submit to the lowest servitude to +human beings. They can't do anything but either fawn or bite; they +haven't fashionable manners at all, a thing which is so necessary in +company. There's no game to be caught. (_He begins to sing a hunting +song: "I steal through the woods so still and wild," etc. A +nightingale in the bush near-by begins to sing._) She sings +gloriously, the songstress of the grove; but how delicious she must +taste! The great people of the earth are, after all, right lucky in +the fact that they can eat as many nightingales and larks as they +like; we poor common people must content ourselves with their singing, +with the beauty in nature, with the incomprehensibly sweet harmony. +It's a shame I can't hear anything sing without getting a desire to +eat it. Nature! Nature! Why do you always destroy my finest emotions +by having created me thus! I feel almost like taking off my boots and +softly climbing up that tree yonder; she must be perching there. +(_Stamping in the pit._) The nightingale is good-natured not to let +herself be interrupted even by this martial music; she must taste +delicious; I am forgetting all about my hunting with these sweet +dreams. Truly, there's no game to be caught. Why, who's there? + + [_Two lovers enter._] + +HE. + +I say, my sweet life, do you hear the nightingale? + +SHE. + +I am not deaf, my good friend. + +HE. + +How my heart overflows with joyousness when I see all harmonious +nature thus gathered about me, when every tone but reëchoes the +confession of my love, when all heaven bows down to diffuse its ether +over me. + +SHE. + +You are raving, my dear! + +HE. + +Do not call the most natural emotions of my heart raving. (_He +kneels down._) See, I swear to you, here in the presence of glad +heaven-- + +HINZE (_approaching them courteously_). + +Kindly pardon me--would you +not take the trouble to go somewhere else? You are disturbing a hunt +here with your lovely affection. + +HE. + +Be the sun my witness, the earth--and what else? Thou, thyself, +dearer to me than earth, sun, and all the elements. What is it, good +friend? + +HINZE. + +The hunt--I beg most humbly. + +HE. + +Barbarian, who are you, to dare to interrupt the oaths of love? +You are not of woman born, you belong outside humanity. + +HINZE. + +If you would only consider, sir-- + +SHE. + +Then wait just a second, good friend; you see, I'm sure, that my +lover, lost in the intoxication of the moment, is down on his knees. + +HE. + +Dost thou believe me now? + +SHE. + +Oh, didn't I believe you even before you spoke a word? (_She +bends down to him affectionately._) Dearest! I love you! Oh, +inexpressibly! + +HE. + +Am I mad? Oh, and if I am not, why do I not become so immediately +with excess of joy, wretched, despicable creature that I am? I am no +longer on the earth; look at me well, dearest, and tell me: Am I not +perhaps standing in the sun? + +SHE. + +You are in my arms, and they shall never release you either. + +HE. + +Oh, come, this open field is too narrow for my emotions, we must +climb the highest mountain, to tell all nature how happy we are. + +[_Exit the lovers, quickly and full of delight. Loud applause and +bravos in the pit._] + +WIESENER (_clapping_). + +The lover thoroughly exhausted himself. Oh, my, +I gave myself such a blow on the hand that it swelled right up. + +NEIGHBOR. + +You do not know how to restrain yourself when you are glad. + +WIESENER. + +Yes, I am always that way. + +FISCHER. + +Ah!--that was certainly something for the heart; that makes +one feel good again! + +LEUTNER. + +Really beautiful diction in that scene! + +MÃœLLER. + +But I wonder whether it is essential to the whole? + +SCHLOSS. + +I never worry about the whole; if I cry, I cry--that's +enough; that was a divine passage. + +HINZE. + +Such a pair of lovers is good for something in the world after +all; they have fallen plump into the poetical again down there and the +stamping has ceased. There's no game to be caught. + +(_A rabbit creeps into the bag; he rushes over and draws the strings +over him._) + +Look here, good friend! A kind of game that is a cousin of mine, so to +speak; yes, that's the way with the world nowadays, relatives against +relatives, brother against brother; if one wants to get through the +world oneself, one must push others out of the way. + +(_He takes the rabbit out of the bag and puts it into the knapsack._) + +Hold! Hold!--truly I must take care not to devour the game myself. I +must just tie up the knapsack quickly only to be able to restrain my +passion. Fie! for shame, Hinze! Is it not the duty of the nobleman to +sacrifice himself and his desires to the happiness of his brother +creatures? That's the reason why we live, and whoever cannot do +that--oh, it were better for him if he had never been born! + +(_He is on the point of withdrawing; violent applause and shouting of +"Encore;" he has to repeat the last beautiful passage, then he bows +respectfully and goes of with the rabbit._) + +FISCHER. + +Oh, what a noble man! + +MÃœLLER. + +What a beautifully human state of mind! + +SCHLOSS. + +One can still be benefited by things like this, but when I +see such nonsense I should like to smash it with a single blow. + +LEUTNER. + +I began to feel quite sad too--the nightingale--the +lovers--the last tirade--why the play has some really beautiful +passages after all! + +_Hall in the palace_ + +_Large company. The_ KING. _The_ PRINCESS. _Prince_ NATHANIEL. _The_ +COOK (_in gala costume_) + +KING (_sitting on throne_). + +Over here, cook; now is the time to speak +and answer; I want to examine the matter myself. + +COOK (_falls on his knees_). + +May it please your majesty to express +your commands for your highness's most faithful servant? + +KING. + +One cannot expend too much effort, my friends, in keeping a +king--on whose shoulders lies the well-being of a whole country and +that of innumerable subjects--always in good humor. For if he falls +into a bad humor, he very easily becomes a tyrant, a monster; for good +humor encourages cheerfulness, and cheerfulness, according to the +observations of all philosophers, makes man good; whereas melancholy, +on the other hand, is to be considered a vice for the very reason that +it encourages all the vices. Whose duty is it, I now ask, in whose +power does it so lie, to preserve the good spirits of the monarch, so +much as in the hands of a cook? Are not rabbits very innocent animals? +My favorite dish--by means of these animals I could succeed in never +becoming tired of making my country happy--and these rabbits he lets +me do without! Sucking pigs and sucking pigs daily. Rascal, I am +disgusted with this at last! + +COOK. + +Let not my king condemn me unheard. Heaven is my witness, that I +took all pains to secure those pretty white animals; I even wanted to +purchase them at a rather high price, but there are absolutely none to +be had. If it were possible to get possession of even one of these +rabbits, do you think you would be allowed to doubt for one moment +longer the love your subjects bear you? + +KING. + +Stop with those roguish words, betake yourself to the kitchen +and show by your action that you love your king. (_Exit cook._) Now I +turn to you, my prince, and to you my daughter. I have been informed, +worthy prince, that my daughter does not love you; she is a +thoughtless, silly girl, but I still give her credit for so much +common sense as probably to have several reasons. She causes me care +and sadness, grief and worry, and my old eyes are flooded with tears +when I think of how she will get along after my death. "You will be +left an old maid," I have told her a thousand times; "take your chance +while it is offered you;" but she will not hear; well, then she'll +have to be made to feel. + +PRINCESS. + +My father-- + +KING (_weeping and sobbing_). + +Go, ungrateful, disobedient girl--by +your refusal you are drawing me into--alas, only too early a grave! +(_He supports himself on the throne, covers his face with his cloak +and weeps bitterly._) + +FISCHER. + +Why, the king does not remain true to his character for a +moment. + + [_Groom of the Chamber comes in._] + +GROOM. + +Your majesty, a strange man is outside and begs to be admitted +before your majesty. + +KING (_sobbing_). + +Who is it? + +GROOM. + +I beg pardon, my king, for not being able to answer this +question. Judging by his long white beard, one should say he is an old +man, and his face completely covered with hair should almost confirm +one in this opinion, but then again he has such bright, youthful eyes, +such a smooth, flexible back, that one cannot understand him. He +appears to be a wealthy man; for he is wearing a pair of fine boots +and as far as I can infer from his exterior he seems to be a hunter. + +KING. + +Bring him in; I am curious to see him. + + [_Groom goes and returns directly with_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +With your majesty's most gracious permission the Count of +Carabas makes bold to present you with a rabbit. + +KING (_delighted_). + +A rabbit? Do you hear it, really, people? Ah, fate +has become reconciled with me again! A rabbit? + +HINZE (_takes it out of his knapsack_). + +Here, great monarch! + +KING. + +Here--just hold the sceptre a moment, prince. (_He feels the +rabbit._) Fat! nice and fat! From the Count of ---- + +HINZE. + +Carabas. + +KING. + +Indeed, he must be an excellent man. I must become better +acquainted with him. Who is the man? Which of you knows him? Why does +he keep himself concealed? If such heads as that are allowed to remain +idle, what will become of our throne! I would cry for joy. _Sends me a +rabbit!_ Groom, give it to the cook directly. + + [_Groom takes it. Exit._] + +NATHAN. + +My king, I beg most humbly to make my departure. + +KING. + +Why, indeed! I had almost forgotten that in my joy! Farewell, +prince, yes, you must make room for other suitors; it cannot be +otherwise. Adieu! I wish you had a highroad all the way home. + + [_Prince kisses his hand. Exit._] + +KING (_shouting_). + +People! Let my historian come! + + [_The historian appears._] + +KING. + +Here, friend, come, here's some material for our history of the +world. You have your book with you, of course! + +HISTORIAN. + +Yes, my king. + +KING. + +Now enter immediately, that on such and such a day (whatever +date we happen to have today) the Count of Carabas sent me a present +of a most delicious rabbit. + + [HISTORIAN _seats himself and writes._] + +KING. + +Do not forget, _Anno currentis_. I must think of everything, +otherwise it's always sure to be done wrong. (_Blast of a trumpet is +heard._) Ah, dinner is ready--come, my daughter, do not weep; if it +isn't one prince, it will be another. Hunter, we thank you for your +trouble. Will you accompany us to the dining-room? + +(_They go_, HINZE _follows_.) + +LEUTNER. + +Pretty soon I shall not be able to stand it any longer; why, +what has happened to the father now, who was so tender to his daughter +at first and touched us all so? + +FISCHER. + +The only thing that vexes me is that not a person in the play +wonders at the cat; the king and all act as though it had to be so. + +SCHLOSS. + +My head is all dizzy with this queer stuff. + +_Royal dining-room_ + +_Large table set. Sound of drums and trumpets. Enter the_ KING, _the_ +PRINCESS, LEANDER, HINZE, _several distinguished guests and_ +JACKPUDDING, _Servants, waiting at the table._ + +KING. + +Let us sit down, otherwise the soup will get cold! Has the +hunter been taken care of? + +SERVANT. + +Yes, your majesty, he will eat at the little table here with +the court fool. + +JACKPUDDING (_to_ HINZE). + +Let us sit down, otherwise the soup will get +cold. + +HINZE (_sits down_). + +With whom have I the honor of dining? + +JACKPUD. + +A man is what he is, Sir Hunter; we cannot all do the same +thing. I am a poor, exiled fugitive, a man who was once, a long time +ago, witty, but who has now become stupid and re-entered service in a +foreign land where he is again considered witty for a while. + +HINZE. + +From what country do you come? + +JACKPUD. + +Unfortunately, only Germany. My countrymen became so wise +about a certain time that they finally forbade all jokes on pain of +punishment; wherever I was seen, I was called by unbearable nicknames, +such as: Absurd, indecent, bizarre--whoever laughed at me was +persecuted like myself, and so I was compelled to go into exile. + +HINZE. + +Poor man! + +JACKPUD. + +There are strange trades in the world, Sir Hunter; cooks live +by eating, tailors by vanity, I, by the laughter of human beings; if +they cease to laugh I must starve. + +[_Murmuring in the pit: A Jackpudding! A Jackpudding!_] + +HINZE. + +I do not eat that vegetable. + +JACKPUD. + +Why? Don't be bashful, help yourself. + +HINZE. + +I tell you, white cabbage does not agree with me. + +JACKPUD. + +It will taste all the better to me. Give me your hand! I must +become better acquainted with you, Sir Hunter. + +HINZE. + +Here! + +JACKPUD. + +Take here the hand of an honest German fellow; I am not +ashamed of being German, as many of my countrymen are. (_He presses +the cat's hand very tightly._) + +HINZE. + +Ow! Ow! (_He resists, growls, clutches_ JACKPUDDING.) + +JACKPUD. + +Oh! Hunter! Are you possessed of the devil? (_He rises and +goes to the king weeping._) Your majesty, the hunter is a perfidious +man; just look at the remembrance of his five fingers he has left on +me. + +KING (_eating_). + +Strange! Now sit down again; wear gloves in the +future when you give him your hand. + +JACKPUD. + +One must guard against you. + +HINZE. + +Why did you take such a hold on me? The deuce take your +pretended honesty! + +JACKPUD. + +Why, you scratch like a cat! + + [HINZE _laughs maliciously_.] + +KING. + +But what's the trouble today, anyhow? Why is there no +intelligent conversation carried on at the table? I do not enjoy a +bite unless my mind has some nourishment too. Court scholar, did you +perhaps fall on your head today? + +LEANDER (_eating_). + +May it please your majesty-- + +KING. + +How far is the sun from the earth? + +LEANDER. + +Two million four hundred thousand and seventy-one-miles. + +KING. + +And the circle in which the planets revolve? + +LEANDER. + +A hundred thousand million miles. + +KING. + +A hundred thousand million! There's nothing in the world I like +better to hear than such great numbers--millions, trillions--that +gives you--something to think about. It's a good deal, isn't it, a +thousand million, more or less? + +LEANDER. + +Human intelligence grows with the numbers. + +KING. + + But tell me, about how large is the whole world in general, +counting fixed stars, milky ways, hoods of mist, and all that? + +LEANDER. + +That cannot be expressed at all. + +KING. + +But you are to express it or (_threatening with his sceptre_)-- + +LEANDER. + +If we consider a million as one, then about ten hundred +thousand trillions of such units which of themselves amount to a +million. + +KING. + +Just think, children, think! Would you believe this bit of +world could be so great? But how that occupies the mind! + +JACKPUD. + +Your majesty, this bowl of rice here seems to me sublimer. + +KING. + +How's that, fool? + +JACKPUD. + +Such sublimities of numbers give no food for thought; one +cannot think, for of course the highest number always finally becomes +the smallest again. Why, you just have to think of all the numbers +possible. I can never count beyond five here. + +KING. + +But say, there's some truth in that. Scholar, how many numbers +are there, anyhow? + +LEANDER. + +An infinite number. + +KING. + +Just tell me quickly the highest number. + +LEANDER. + +There is no highest, because you can always add something to +the highest; human intelligence knows no bounds in this respect. + +KING. + +But in truth it is a remarkable thing, this human mind. + +HINZE. + +You must get disgusted with being a fool here. + +JACKPUD. + +You can introduce nothing new; there are too many working at +the trade. + +LEANDER. + +The fool, my king, can never understand such a thing; on the +whole I am surprised that your majesty is still amused by his insipid +ideas. Even in Germany they tired of him, and here in Utopia you have +taken him up where thousands of the most wonderful and clever +amusements are at our service. He should be thrown out at once, for he +only brings your taste into bad repute. + +KING (_throws the sceptre at his head_). + +Sir Brazenbold of a scholar! +What do you dare to say? The fool pleases _me, me_, his king, and if I +like him, how dare you say that the man is ridiculous? You are the +court scholar and he the court fool; you both have equal positions; +the only difference is that he is dining at the little table with the +strange hunter. The fool displays his nonsense at the table, and you +carry on an intelligent conversation at the table; both are only to +while away the time for me and make my meal taste good: where, then, +lies the great difference? Furthermore, it does us good to see a fool +who is more stupid than we, who has not the same gifts; why, then, one +feels greater oneself and is grateful to heaven; even on that account +I like to have a blockhead around. + + [THE COOK _serves the rabbit and goes_.] + +KING. + +The rabbit! I do not know--I suppose the other gentlemen do not +care for it? + +ALL (_bow_). + +KING. + +Well, then, with your permission, I will keep it for myself. +(_He eats._) + +PRINCESS. + +It seems to me the king is making faces as though he were +getting an attack again. + +KING (_rising in rage_). + +The rabbit is burned! Oh, earth! Oh, pain! +What keeps me from sending the cook right down to Orcus as fast as +possible? + +PRINCESS. + +My father! + +KING. + +How did this stranger lose his way among the people? His eyes +are dry-- + +ALL (_arise very sadly_, JACKPUDDING _runs back and forth busily_, +HINZE _remains seated and eats steadily_). + +KING. + +A long, long, good night; no morning will ever brighten it. + +PRINCESS. + +Do have some one fetch the peacemaker. + +KING. + +May the Cook Philip be Hell's cry of jubilee when an ungrateful +wretch is burned to ashes! + +PRINCESS. + +Where can the musician be! + +KING. + +To be or not to be-- + +[_The peacemaker enters with a set of musical bells and begins to play +them at once._] + +KING. + +What is the matter with me? (_Weeping._) Alas! I have already +had my attack again. Have the rabbit taken out of my sight. (_He lays +his head on the table, full of grief, and sobs._) + +COURTIER. + +His majesty suffers much. + +[_Violent stamping and whistling in the pit; they cough, they hiss; +those in the gallery laugh; the king gets up, arranges his cloak and +sits down majestically with his sceptre. It is all in vain; the noise +continues to increase, all the actors forget their parts, a terrible +pause on the stage. HINZE has climbed up a pillar. The author appears +on the stage, overcome._] + +AUTHOR. + +Gentlemen--most honorable public--just a few words! + +IN THE PIT. + +Quiet! Quiet! The fool wishes to speak! + +AUTHOR. + +For the sake of heaven, do not disgrace me thus; why, the act +will be over directly. Just look, the king, too, is again calmed; take +an example from this great soul which certainly has more reason to be +vexed than you. + +FISCHER. + +More than we? + +WIESENER (_to his neighbor_). + +But I wonder why you are stamping? We +two like the play, do we not? + +NEIGHBOR. + +That's true too--absent-mindedly, because they're all doing +it. (_Claps with might and main._) + +AUTHOR. + +A few voices are still favorable to me, however. For pity, do +put up with my poor play; a rogue gives more than he has, and it will +be over soon, too. I am so confused and frightened that I can think +of nothing else to say to you. + +ALL. + +We want to hear nothing, know nothing. + +AUTHOR (_raging, drags the peacemaker forward_). + +The king is calmed, +now calm this raging flood too, if you can. (_Beside himself, rushes +off._) + +[_The peacemaker plays on his bells, the stamping keeps time with the +melody; he motions; monkeys and bears appear and dance fondly around +him. Eagles and other birds. An eagle sits on the head of HINZE who is +very much afraid; two elephants, two lions. Ballet and singing._] + +THE FOUR-FOOTED ANIMALS. + +That sounds so beautiful! + +THE BIRDS. + +That sounds so lovely! + +CHORUS TOGETHER. + +Never have I seen or heard the like! + +[_Hereupon an artistic quadrille is danced by all present, the king +and his court retinue are taken into the centre, HINZE and JACKPUDDING +not excluded; general applause. Laughter; people standing up in pit to +see better; several hats fall down from the gallery._] + +THE PEACEMAKER (_sings during the ballet and the audience's general +expression of pleasure_). + + + Could only all good men + Soft bells like these discover + Each enemy would then + With ease be turned to lover. + And life without bad friends would be + All sweet and lovely harmony. + + +[_The curtain falls, all shout and applaud, the ballet is heard +awhile._] + + +INTERLUDE + +WIESENER. + +Splendid! Splendid! + +NEIGHBOR. + +Well, I'd certainly call that a heroic ballet. + +WIESENER. + +And so beautifully woven into the main plot! + +LEUTNER. + +Beautiful music! + +FISCHER. + +Divine! + +SCHLOSS. + +The ballet is the only redeeming feature of the play. + +BÖTTICH. + +I still keep on admiring the acting of the cat. In such +details one recognizes the great and experienced actor; for example, +as often as he took the rabbit out of the sack, he always lifted it by +the ears; that was not prescribed for him; I wonder whether you +noticed how the king grasped it at once by the body? But these animals +are held by the ears because that is where they can best bear it. +That's what I call a master! + +MÃœLLER. + +That is a very fine explanation. + +FISCHER (_aside_). + +He himself ought to be lifted by the ears for it. + +BÖTTICH. + +And his terror when the eagle was sitting on his head! How he +did not even move for fear, did not stir or budge--it is beyond +description! + +MÃœLLER. + +You go very deeply into the matter. + +BÖTTICH. + +I flatter myself I am a bit of a connoisseur; that is of +course not the case with all of you, and for that reason the matter +must be demonstrated to you. + +FISCHER. + +You are taking great pains! + +BÖTTICH. + +Oh, when you love art as I do it is a pleasant task! Just now +a very acute thought also occurred to me concerning the cat's boots, +and in them I admire the genius of the actor. You see, at first be is +a cat; for that reason he must lay aside his natural clothing in order +to assume the appropriate disguise of a cat. Then he has to appear +fully as a hunter; that is what I conclude, for every one calls him +that, nor does a soul marvel at him; an unskilful actor would have +dressed himself exactly so too, but what would have happened to our +illusion? We might perhaps have forgotten that he was still originally +a cat and how uncomfortable a new costume would be for the actor over +the fur he already had. By means of the boots, however, he merely +skilfully suggests the hunter's costume; and that such suggestions are +extremely dramatic, the ancients prove to us very excellently, in +often-- + +FISCHER. + +Hush! The third act is beginning. + + + +ACT III + + +_Room in a peasant's house_ + +_The_ PLAYWRIGHT. _The_ MACHINIST. + + +MACHIN. + +Then do you really think that will do any good? + +PLAYWR. + +I beg, I entreat you, do not refuse my request; my only hope +depends on it. + +LEUTNER. + +Why, what's this again? How did these people ever get into +Gottlieb's room? + +SCHLOSS. + +I won't rack my brains about anything more. + +MACHIN. + +But, dear friend, you certainly do ask too much, to have all +this done in such a hurry, entirely on the spur of the moment. + +PLAYWR. + +I believe you are against me, too; you also rejoice in my +misfortune. + +MACHIN. + +Not in the least. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_falls down before him_). + +Then prove it to me by yielding +to my request; if the disapproval of the audience breaks out so loudly +again, then at a motion from me let all the machines play; as it is, +the second act has already closed quite differently from the way it +reads in my manuscript. + +MACHIN. + +What's this now? Why, who raised the curtain? + +PLAYWR. + +It never rains but it pours! I am lost! (_He rushes in +embarrassment behind the scenes._) + +MACHIN. + +There never has been such a confusion on any evening. + + [_Exit. A pause._] + +WIESENER. + +I say, does that belong to the play? + +NEIGHBOR. + +Of course--why that motivates the transformation to follow. + +FISCHER. + +This evening ought certainly to be described in the theatre +almanac. + +KING (_behind the scenes_). + +No, I will not appear, on no condition; I +cannot bear to have any one laugh at me. + +PLAYWR. + +But you--dearest friend--it can't be changed now. + +JACKPUD. + +Well, I will try my luck. (_He steps forward and bows +comically to the audience._) + +MÃœLLER. + +Why, what is Jackpudding doing in the peasant's room now? + +SCHLOSS. + +I suppose he wants to deliver a ridiculous monologue. + +JACKPUD. + +Pardon me if I make bold to say a few words which do not +exactly belong to the play. + +FISCHER. + +Oh, you should keep perfectly quiet, we're tired of you even +in the play; moreover, now so very-- + +SCHLOSS. + +A Jackpudding dares to talk to us? + +JACKPUD. + +Why not? For if people laugh at me, I am not hurt at all; +why, it would be my warmest wish to have you laugh at me. So do not +hesitate. + +LEUTNER. + +That is pretty funny! + +JACKPUD. + +Naturally, what scarcely befits the king is all the more +fitting for me; hence he would not appear, but left this important +announcement to me. + +MÃœLLER. + +But we do not wish to hear anything. + +JACKPUD. + +My dear German countrymen-- + +SCHLOSS. + +I believe the setting of the play is in Asia. + +JACKPUD. + +But now, you see, I am talking to you merely as an actor to +the spectators. + +SCHLOSS. + +People, it's all over with me now; I am crazy. + +JACKPUD. + +Do be pleased to hear that the former scene, which you just +saw, is not part of the play at all. + +FISCHER. + +Not part of the play? Then how does it get in there? + +JACKPUD. + +The curtain was raised too soon. It was a private discussion +which would not have taken place on the stage at all if it were not so +horribly crowded behind the scenes. Now if you were deceived, it is of +course so much the worse; then just be kind enough to eradicate this +delusion again; for from now on, do you understand me, only after I +have gone away, will the act really begin. Between you and me, all the +preceding has nothing to do with it at all. But you are to be +compensated; much is coming soon which is very essential to the plot. +I have spoken to the playwright myself and he has assured me of it. + +FISCHER. + +Yes, your playwright is just the fellow. + +JACKPUD. + +He's good for nothing, isn't it so? Well, I am glad after +all, that there is still some one else who has the same taste as I-- + +THE PIT. + +All of us, all of us! + +JACKPUD. + +Your obedient servant; it is too great an honor by far. Yes, +God knows, he is a wretched writer--only to give a bad example; what a +miserable part he has given me! Where, pray, am I witty and funny? I +appear in so few scenes, and I believe, if I hadn't stepped forward +even now, by a lucky chance, I should not have appeared again at all. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_rushing forward_). + +Impudent fellow-- + +JACKPUD. + +Look, he is even jealous of the small part I am playing now. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_on the other side of the stage with a bow_). + +Worthy +friends! I never should have dared to give this man a more important +part since I know your taste-- + +JACKPUDDING (_on the other side_). + +_Your_ taste? Now you see his +jealousy--and they have all just declared that my taste is the same as +theirs. + +PLAYWR. + +I wished, by means of the present play, only to prepare you +for even more extravagant products of the imagination. + +ALL IN THE PIT. + +How? What? + +JACKPUD. + +Of course for plays in which I would have no part to act at +all. + +PLAYWR. + +For the development of this matter must advance step by step. + +JACKPUD. + +Don't believe a word he says! + +PLAYWR. + +Now I withdraw, not to interrupt the course of the play any +longer. + + [_Exit._] + +JACKPUD. + +Adieu, until we meet again. (_Exit, returns again quickly._) +_Apropos_--another thing--the discussion which has just taken place +among us is not part of the play either. + + [_Exit._] + +THE PIT (_laughs_). + +JACKPUDDING (_returns again quickly_). + +Let us finish the wretched play +today; make believe you do not notice at all how bad it is; as soon as +I get home I'll sit down and write one for you that you will certainly +like. + + [_Exit, some applause._] + +(_Enter_ GOTTLIEB _and_ HINZE) + +GOTTLIEB. + +Dear Hinze, it is true you are doing much for me, but I +still cannot understand what good it is going to do me. + +HINZE. + +Upon my word, I want to make you happy. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Happiness must come soon, very soon, otherwise it will be +too late; it is already half past seven and the comedy ends at eight. + +HINZE. + +Say, what the devil does that mean? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Oh, I was lost in thought--See! I meant to say, how +beautifully the sun has risen. The accursed prompter speaks so +indistinctly; and then if you want to extemporize once in a while, it +always goes wrong. + +HINZE (_quietly_). + +Do bethink yourself, otherwise the whole play will +break in a thousand pieces. + +SCHLOSS. + +I wish somebody would tell me why I can no longer understand +anything. + +FISCHER. + +My intelligence is at a standstill too. + +GOTTLIEB. + +So my fortune is yet to be determined today? + +HINZE. + +Yes, dear Gottlieb, even before the sun sets. See, I love you +so much that I would run through fire for you--and you doubt my +sincerity? + +WIESENER. + +Did you hear that? He is going to run through fire. Ah, +fine, here we get the scene from the _Magic Flute_ too, with the fire +and the water! + +NEIGHBOR. + +But cats do not go into the water. + +WIESENER. + +Why so much the greater is the cat's love for his master, +you see; that's just what the author wants to make us understand. + +HINZE. + +Now what would you like to become in the world, anyhow? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Oh, I don't know, myself. + +HINZE. + +Perhaps you'd like to become a prince, or a king? + +GOTTLIEB. + +That, better than anything. + +HINZE. + +And do you also feel the strength within you to make a nation +happy? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Why not? If only I am once happy myself. + +HINZE. + +Well, then content yourself. I swear to you, you shall mount +the throne. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB. + +It would have to come about mysteriously--still, of course, +so many unexpected things happen in the world. + + [_Exit._] + +BÖTTICH. + +Do notice the infinite refinement with which the cat always +holds his cane. + +FISCHER. + +You've been a bore to us for the longest while; you are even +more tiresome than the play. + +SCHLOSS. + +You even add to the confusion in our heads. + +MÃœLLER. + +You talk constantly and do not know what you want. + +MANY VOICES. + +Out! Out! He's a nuisance! (_A crowd;_ BÖTTICHER _finds +himself compelled to leave the theatre._) + +FISCHER. + +He with his talk about refinement! + +SCHLOSS. + +He always vexes me when he considers himself a connoisseur. + +_An open field_ + +HINZE (_with knapsack and bag_). + +I have become quite accustomed to +hunting. Every day I catch partridges, rabbits and the like, and the +dear little animals are getting more and more practice in being +caught. (_He spreads out his bag._) Now the season of the nightingales +is over, I do not hear a single one singing. + + [_Enter the two lovers._] + +HE. + +Go, you bore me. + +SHE. + +I am disgusted with you. + +HE. + +A fine kind of love! + +SHE. + +Wretched hypocrite, how you have deceived me! + +HE. + +What has become of your infinite tenderness? + +SHE. + +And your faithfulness? + +HE. + +Your rapture? + +SHE. + +Your infatuation? + +BOTH. + +The devil has taken it! That comes of marrying. + +HINZE. + +The hunt has never yet been so disturbed--if you would be +pleased to notice that this open field is clearly too confined for +your sorrows, and climb up some mountain. + +HE. + +Insolent wretch! (_Boxes_ HINZE _on the ear._) + +SHE. + +Boor! (_Also boxes_ HINZE _on the ear._) + +HINZE (_purrs_). + +SHE. + +It seems best to me that we be parted again. + +HE. + +I am at your bidding. + + [_Exit the lovers._] + +HINZE. + +Nice people, these so-called human beings. Just look, two +partridges; I will carry them off quickly. Now, fortune, make haste, +for I myself am almost getting impatient. Now I have no longer any +desire to eat the partridges. It's probably thus, that, by mere habit, +we can implant in our nature every possible virtue. + + [_Exit._] + +_Hall in the Palace_ + +_The_ KING _on his throne with the_ PRINCESS; LEANDER _in a lecturer's +chair; opposite him_ JACKPUDDING _in another lecturer's chair; in the +centre of the hall a costly hat, decorated with gold and precious +stones, is fastened on a high pole. The entire court is present._ + +KING. + +Never yet has a person rendered such services to his country as +this amiable Count of Carabas. Our historian has already almost filled +a thick volume, so often has the Count presented me with pretty and +delicious gifts, sometimes even twice a day, through his hunter. My +appreciation of his kindness is boundless and I desire nothing more +earnestly than to find at some time the opportunity of discharging to +some extent the great debt I owe him. + +PRINCESS. + +Dearest father, would your majesty not most graciously +permit the learned disputation to begin? My heart yearns for this +mental activity. + +KING. + +Yes, it may begin now. Court scholar--court fool--you both know +that to the one who gains the victory in this disputation is allotted +that costly hat; for this very reason have I had it set up here, so +that you may have it always before your eyes and never be in want of +quick wit. + + [LEANDER _and_ JACKPUDDING _bow_.] + +LEANDER. + +The theme of my assertion is, that a recently published play +by the name of _Puss in Boots_ is a good play. + +JACKPUD. + +That is just what I deny. + +LEANDER. + +Prove that it is bad. + +JACKPUD. + +Prove that it is good. + +LEUTNER. + +What's this again? Why that's the very play they are giving +here, if I am not mistaken. + +MÃœLLER. + +No other. + +SCHLOSS. + +Do tell me whether I am awake and have my eyes open. + +LEANDER. + +The play, if not perfectly excellent, is still to be praised +in several respects. + +JACKPUD. + +Not one respect. + +LEANDER. + +I assert that it displays wit. + +JACKPUD. + +I assert that it displays none. + +LEANDER. + +You are a fool; how can you pretend to judge concerning wit? + +JACKPUD. + +And you are a scholar; what can you pretend to understand +about wit? + +LEANDER. + +Several characters are well-sustained. + +JACKPUD. + +Not a single one. + +LEANDER. + +Then, even if I concede else, the audience is well drawn in +it. + +JACKPUD. + +An audience never has a character. + +LEANDER. + +I am almost amazed at this boldness. + +JACKPUD (_to the pit_). + +Isn't he a foolish fellow? Here we are, hand +and glove with each other and sympathize in our views on taste, and he +wishes to assert in opposition to my opinion, that at least the +audience in _Puss in Boots_ is well drawn. + +FISCHER. + +The audience? Why no audience appears in the play. + +JACKPUD. + +That's even better! So, then, no audience is presented in it +at all? + +MÃœLLER. + +Why not a bit of it, unless he means the several kinds of +fools that appear. + +JACKPUD. + +Now, do you see, scholar! What these gentlemen down there are +saying must certainly be true. + +LEANDER. + +I am getting confused, but still I won't yield the victory to +you. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +JACKPUD. + +Sir Hunter, a word! (HINZE _approaches, they whisper._) + +HINZE. +If it's nothing more than that. (_He takes off his boots, +climbs up the pole, then takes the hat, jumps down, then puts his +boots on again._) + +JACKPUD. + +Victory! Victory! + +KING. + +The deuce! How clever the hunter is! + +LEANDER. + +I only regret that I have been vanquished by a fool, that +learning must acknowledge foolishness as its superior. + +KING. + +Keep still; you wanted the hat, he wanted the hat; so again I +see no difference. But what have you brought, hunter? + +HINZE. + +The Count of Carabas commends himself most respectfully to your +majesty and sends you these two partridges. + +KING. + +Too much! too much! I am sinking under the burden of gratitude! +Long since should I have done my duty and visited him; today I will +delay no longer. Have my royal carriage prepared at once--eight horses +in front--I want to go driving with my daughter. You, Hunter, are to +show us the way to the castle of the count. + + [_Exit with retinue._] + +HINZE. JACKPUDDING + +HINZE. + +What was your disputation about, anyhow? + +JACKPUD. + +I asserted that a certain play, which, moreover, I am not +acquainted with at all, _Puss in Boots_, is a wretched play. + +HINZE. + +So? + +JACKPUD. + +Adieu, Sir Hunter. + + [_Exit._] + +HINZE (_alone_). + +I'm all in the dumps. I, myself, helped the fool win +a victory against a play in which I myself am taking the leading part. +Fate! Fate! Into what complications do you so often lead us mortals? +But be that as it may. If I only succeed in putting my beloved +Gottlieb on the throne, I will gladly forget all my other troubles. +The king wishes to visit the count? Now that is another bad situation +which I must clear up; now the great, important day has arrived on +which I need you so particularly, you boots. Now do not desert me; all +must be determined today. + + [_Exit._] + +FISCHER. + +Do tell me what this is--the play itself--it appears again as +a play in the play. + +SCHLOSS. + +Without much ceremony, I am crazy--didn't I say at once, that +is the enjoyment of art which you are said to have here? + +LEUTNER. + +No tragedy has ever affected me as this farce has. + +_In front of the tavern_ + +THE HOST (_reaping corn with a scythe_). + +This is hard work! Well, of +course people cannot be deserting every day either. I only wish the +harvest were over. After all, life consists of nothing but work; now +draw beer, then clean glasses, then pour it out--now even reap. Life +means work--and here some learned folk are even so wicked, in their +books, as to try to put sleep out of fashion, because one does not +live enough for one's time. But I am a great friend of sleep. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +Whoever wants to hear something wonderful, listen to me now! How I +have been running!--first from the royal palace to Gottlieb, second +with Gottlieb to the palace of the Bugbear where I left him, third +from there back again to the king, fourth I am now racing ahead of the +king's coach like a courier and showing him the way. Hey! good friend! + +HOST. + +Who's that? Countryman, you must probably be a stranger, for the +people in this neighborhood know that I do not sell any beer about +this time; I need it for myself; when one does work like mine, one +must also fortify one's self. I am sorry, but I cannot help you. + +HINZE. + +I do not want any beer, I never drink beer; I only want to say +a few words to you. + +HOST. + +You must certainly be a regular idler, to attempt to disturb +industrious people in their occupation. + +HINZE. + +I do not wish to disturb you. Just listen: the neighboring king +will drive by here, he will probably step out of his carriage and +inquire to whom these villages belong. If your life is dear to you, if +you do not wish to be hanged or burned, then be sure to answer: to the +Count of Carabas. + +HOST. + +But, Sir, we are subject to the law. + +HINZE. + +I know that well enough, but, as I said, if you do not wish to +die, this region here belongs to the Count of Carabas. + + [_Exit._] + +HOST. + +Many thanks! Now this would be the finest kind of opportunity +for me to get out of ever having to work again. All I need do is to +say to the king--the country belongs to the Bugbear. But no, idleness +breeds vice: _Ora et labora_ is my motto. + +[_A fine carriage with eight horses, many servants behind; it stops; +the_ KING _and_ PRINCESS _step out._] + +PRINCESS. + +I am somewhat curious to see the Count. + +KING. + +So am I, my daughter. Good day, my friend. To whom do these +villages here belong? + +HOST (_aside_). + +He asks as though he were ready to have me hanged at +once.--To the Count of Carabas, your majesty. + +KING. + +A beautiful country. But I always thought the country must look +altogether different if I should cross the border, judging from the +maps. Do help me a bit. (_He climbs up a tree quickly._) + +PRINCESS. + +What are you doing, my royal father? + +KING. + +I like open views on beautiful landscapes. + +PRINCESS. + +Can you see far? + +KING. + +Oh, yes, and if it were not for those annoying mountains, you +would see even further. Oh, my, the tree is full of caterpillars! (_He +climbs down again._) + +PRINCESS. + +That is because it is a scene in nature which has not yet +been idealized; imagination must first ennoble it. + +KING. + +I wish you could take the caterpillars off me by means of +imagination. But get in, we must drive ahead. + +PRINCESS. + +Farewell, good, innocent peasant. (_They get into the +carriage; it drives on._) + +HOST. + +How the world has changed! If you read in old books or listen to +old people's stories, they always got louis d'ors or something like +that if they spoke to a king or a prince. Such a king would formerly +never dare to open his mouth if he did not press gold pieces into your +hand at once. But now! How, pray, is one to make one's fortune +unexpectedly, if the chance is over even with kings? Innocent peasant! +I wish to God I didn't owe anything--that comes of the new sentimental +descriptions of country life. Such a king is powerful and envies +people of our station. I must only thank God that he did not hang me. +The strange hunter was our Bugbear himself after all. At least it will +now appear in the paper, I suppose, that the king has spoken to me +graciously. [_Exit._] + +_Another region_ + +KUNZ (_reaping corn_). + +Bitter work! And if at least I were doing it +for myself--but this compulsory villainage! Here one must do nothing +but sweat for the Bugbear and he does not even thank one. Of course +they always say in this world that laws are necessary to keep the +people in order, but what need there is here of _our Law_ who devours +all of us, I cannot understand. + + [HINZE _comes running_.] + +HINZE. + +Now I have blisters-on my soles already--well, it doesn't +matter, Gottlieb, Gottlieb must get the throne for it. Hey, good +friend! + +KUNZ. + +Who's _this_ fellow? + +HINZE. + +The king will drive by here directly. If he asks you to whom +all this belongs, you must answer--to the Count of Carabas; otherwise +you will be chopped into a thousand million pieces. For the welfare of +the public, the law desires it thus. + +FISCHER. + +For the welfare of the public? + +SCHLOSS. + +Naturally, for otherwise the play would never end. + +HINZE. + +Your life is probably dear to you. + + [_Exit._] + +KUNZ. + +That's just how the edicts always sound. Well, I don't mind +saying that, if only no new taxes result from it. One must trust no +innovation. + +[_The coach drives up and stops; the_ KING _and the_ PRINCESS _step +out._] + +KING. + +A fine landscape, too. We have already seen a great deal of +very fine country. To whom does this land belong? + +KUNZ. + +To the Count of Carabas. + +KING. + +He has splendid estates, that must be true--and so near mine; +daughter, that seems to be a good match for you. What is your opinion? + +PRINCESS. + +You embarrass me, my father. What new things one sees while +traveling, though. Do tell me, pray, good peasant, why do you cut down +the straw like that? + +KUNZ (_laughing_). + +Why, this is the harvest, Mam'selle Queen--the +corn. + +KING. + +Corn? What do you use that for, pray? + +KUNZ (_laughing_). + +Bread is baked from that. + +KING. + +Pray, daughter, for heaven's sake, bread is baked of it! Who would +ever think of such tricks! Nature is something marvelous, after all. +Here, good friend, get a drink, it is warm today. (_He steps in again +with the_ PRINCESS; _the carriage drives away._) + +KUNZ. + +If he wasn't a king, you'd almost think he was stupid. Doesn't know +what corn is! Well, you learn new things every day, of course. Here he +has given me a shining piece of gold and I'll fetch myself a can of +good beer at once. [_Exit._] + +_Another part of the country, beside a river_ + +GOTTLIEB. + +Now here I've been standing two hours already, waiting for my friend, +Hinze. And he's not coming yet. There he is! But how he's running--he +seems all out of breath. + + [HINZE _comes running._] + +HINZE. + +Well, friend Gottlieb, take off your clothes quickly? + +GOTTLIEB. + +My clothes? + +HINZE. + +And then jump into the water here-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Into the water? + +HINZE. + +And then I will throw the clothing into the bush-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Into the bush? + +HINZE. + +And then you are provided for! + +GOTTLIEB. + +I agree with you; if I am drowned and my clothes gone, I am well +enough provided for. + +HINZE. + +There is no time for joking-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +I am not joking at all. Is that what I had to wait here for? + +HINZE. + +Undress! + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, I'll do anything to please you. + +HINZE. + +Come, you are only to take a little bath. (_Exit with_ GOTTLIEB. _Then +he comes back with the clothing which he throws into a bush._) Help! +Help! Help! + +[_The carriage. The_ KING _looks out of the coach door._] + +KING. + +What is it, Hunter? Why do you shout so? + +HINZE. + +Help, your majesty, the Count of Carabas is drowned! + +KING. + +Drowned! + +PRINCESS (_in the carriage_). + +Carabas! + +KING. + +My daughter in a faint! The Count drowned! + +HINZE. + +Perhaps he can still be saved; he is lying there in the water. + +KING. + +Servants! Try everything, anything to preserve the noble man. + +SERVANT. + +We have rescued him, your majesty. + +HINZE. + +Misfortune upon misfortune, my king! The Count was bathing here in the +clear water and a rogue stole his clothing. + +KING. + +Unstrap my trunk at once--give him some of my clothes. Cheer up, +daughter, the Count is rescued. + +HINZE. + +I must hurry. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB (_in the king's clothing_). + +Your majesty-- + +KING. + +Here is the Count! I recognize him by my clothing! Step in, my best +friend--how are you? Where do you get all the rabbits? I cannot +compose myself for joy! Drive on, coachman! + + [_The carriage drives off quickly._] + +SERVANT. + +None but the hangman could come up so quickly--now I have the pleasure +of running behind on foot, and besides I'm just as wet as a cat. + +LEUTNER. + +How many more times, pray, will the carriage appear? + +WIESENER. + +Neighbor! Why, you are asleep! + +NEIGHBOR. + +Not at all--a fine play. + +_Palace of the Bugbear_ + +_The_ BUGBEAR _appears as a rhinoceros; a poor peasant stands before +him._ + +PEASANT. + +May it please your honor-- + +BUGBEAR. + +There must be justice, my friend. + +PEASANT. + +I cannot pay just now. + +BUGBEAR. + +Be still, you have lost the case; the law demands money and your +punishment; consequently your land must be sold. There is nothing else +to be done and this is for the sake of justice. + + [_Exit peasant._] + +BUGBEAR (_who is re-transformed into an ordinary bugbear_). + +These people would lose all respect if they were not compelled to fear +in this way. + + [_An officer enters, bowing profusely._] + +OFFICER. + +May it please you, honored sir--I-- + +BUGBEAR. + +What's your trouble, my friend? + +OFFICER. + +With your kindest permission, I tremble and quiver in your +honor's formidable presence. + +BUGBEAR. + +Oh, this is far from my most terrible form. + +OFFICER. + +I really came--in matters--to beg you to take my part against +my neighbor. I had also brought this purse with me--but the presence +of Lord Law is too frightful for me. + +BUGBEAR (_suddenly changes into a mouse and sits in a corner_). + +OFFICER. + +Why, where has the Bugbear gone? + +BUGBEAR (_in a delicate voice_). + +Just put the money down there on the +table; I will sit here to avoid frightening you. + +OFFICER. + +Here. (_He lays the money down_.) Oh, this justice is a +splendid thing--how can one be afraid of such a mouse! + + [_Exit_.] + +BUGBEAR (_assumes his natural form_). + +A pretty good purse--of course +one must sympathize with human weakness. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +With your permission--(_aside_) Hinze, you must pluck up +courage--(_aloud_) Your Excellency! + +BUGBEAR. + +What do you wish? + +HINZE. + +I am a scholar traveling through this region and wished to take the +liberty of making your excellency's acquaintance. + +BUGBEAR. + +Very well, then, make my acquaintance. + +HINZE. + +You are a mighty prince; your love of justice is known all over the +world. + +BUGBEAR. + +Yes, I don't doubt it. Do sit down! + +HINZE. + +They tell many wonderful things about Your Highness-- + +BUGBEAR. + +Yes, people always want something to talk about and so the reigning +monarchs must be the first to be discussed. + +HINZE. + +But still, there is one thing I cannot believe, that Your Excellency +can transform yourself into an elephant and a tiger. + +BUGBEAR. + +I will give you an example of it at once. (_He changes into a lion_.) + +HINZE (_draws out a portfolio, trembling_). + +Permit me to make note of this marvel--but now would you also please +resume your natural charming form? Otherwise I shall die of fear. + +BUGBEAR (_in his own form_). + +Those are tricks, friend! Don't you +think so? + +HINZE. + +Marvelous! But another thing--they also say you can transform yourself +into very small animals--with your permission, that is even far more +incomprehensible to me; for, do tell me, what becomes of your large +body then? + +BUGBEAR. + +I will do that too. + +[_He changes into a mouse_. HINZE _leaps after him, the Bugbear flees +into another room_, HINZE _after him_.] + +HINZE (_coming back_). + +Freedom and Equality! The Law is devoured! Now indeed the +Tiers--_Etat_! Gottlieb will surely secure the government. + +SCHLOSS. + +Why, a revolutionary play after all? Then for heaven's sake, you +surely shouldn't stamp! + +[_The stamping continues_, WIESENER _and several others applaud_, +HINZE _creeps into a corner and finally even leaves the stage. The +playwright is heard quarreling behind the scenes and then enters_.] + +PLAYWR. + +What am I to do? The play will be over directly--everything would +perhaps have run smoothly--now just in this moral scene I had expected +so much applause. If this were only not so far away from the king's +palace, I would fetch the peacemaker; he explained to me at the end of +the second act all the fables of Orpheus--but am I not a fool? I +became quite confused--why, this is the theatre here, and the +peacemaker must be somewhere behind the scenes--I will look for him--I +must find him--he shall save me! (_Exit, returns again quickly_.) He +is not _there_, Sir Peacemaker! An empty echo mocks me--he has +deserted me, his playwright. Ha! there I see him--he must come +forward. + +[_The pauses are always filled by stamping in the pit and the +playwright delivers this monologue in recitative, so that the effect +is rather melodramatic_.] + +PEACEMAKER (_behind the scenes_). + +No, I will not appear. + +PLAYWR. + +But why not, pray? + +PEACEMAK. + +Why, I have already undressed. + +PLAYWR. + +That doesn't matter. (_He pushes him forward by force_.) + +PEACEMAKER (_appearing in his ordinary dress, with, the set of +bells_). + +Well, you may take the responsibility. (_He plays on the bells and +sings_.) + + These sacred halls of beauty + Revenge have never known. + For love guides back to duty + The man who vice has sown. + Then he is led by friendly hand, + Glad and content, to a better land. + +[_The pit begins to applaud; meanwhile the scene is changed, the fire +and water taken from the_ MAGIC FLUTE _begin to play, above appears +the open temple of the sun, the sky is clear and Jupiter sits within +it, beneath Hell with Terkaleon, cobalds and witches on the stage, +many lights, etc. The audience applauds excessively, everything is +astir_.] + +WIESENER. + +Now the cat has only to go through fire and water and then the play is +finished. + +[_Enter the_ KING, _the_ PRINCESS, GOTTLIEB, HINZE _and servants_.] + +HINZE. + +This is the palace of the Count of Carabas. Why, the dickens, how this +has changed! + +KING. + +A beautiful palace! + +HINZE. + +As long as matters _have_ gone thus far (_taking Gottlieb by +the hand_) you must first walk through the fire here and then through +the water there. + +GOTTLIEB (_walks through fire and water to the sound of flute and +drum_.) + +HINZE. + +You have stood the test; now, my prince, you are altogether worthy of +the government. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Governing, Hinze, is a curious matter. + +KING. + +Accept, now, the hand of my daughter. + +PRINCESS. + +How happy I am! + +GOTTLIEB. + +I, likewise. But, my king, I would desire to reward my servant. + +KING. + +By all means; I herewith raise him to the nobility. (_He hangs an +order about the cat's neck_.) What is his actual name? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Hinze. By birth he is of but a lowly family--but his merits exalt him. + +LEANDER (_quickly stepping forward_). + + After the King I rode with due submission, + And now implore his Majesty's permission + To close with laudatory lines poetic + This play so very wondrous and prophetic. + In praise of cats my grateful anthem soars-- + The noblest of those creatures on all fours + Who daily bring contentment to our doors. + In Egypt cats were gods, and very nice is + The Tom-cat who was cousin to Great Isis. + They still protect our cellar, attic, kitchen, + And serve the man who this world's goods is rich in. + Our homes had household gods of yore to grace them. + If cats be gods, then with the Lares place them! + + [_Drumming. The curtain falls_.] + + + + + +FAIR ECKBERT (1796) + +BY LUDWIG TIECK + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL B. THOMAS + + +In a region of the Hartz Mountains there lived a knight whom people +generally called simply Fair Eckbert. He was about forty years old, +scarcely of medium height, and short, very fair hair fell thick and +straight over his pale, sunken face. He lived very quietly unto +himself, and was never implicated in the feuds of his neighbors; +people saw him but rarely outside the encircling wall of his little +castle. His wife loved solitude quite as much as he, and both seemed +to love each other from the heart; only they were wont to complain +because Heaven seemed unwilling to bless their marriage with children. + +Very seldom was Eckbert visited by guests, and even when he was, +almost no change on their account was made in the ordinary routine of +his life. Frugality dwelt there, and Economy herself seemed to +regulate everything. Eckbert was then cheerful and gay--only when he +was alone one noticed in him a certain reserve, a quiet distant +melancholy. + +Nobody came so often to the castle as did Philip Walther, a man to +whom Eckbert had become greatly attached, because he found in him very +much his own way of thinking. His home was really in Franconia, but he +often spent more than half a year at a time in the vicinity of +Eckbert's castle, where he busied himself gathering herbs and stones +and arranging them in order. He had a small income, and was therefore +dependent upon no one. Eckbert often accompanied him on his lonely +rambles, and thus a closer friendship developed between the two men +with each succeeding year. + +There are hours in which it worries a man to keep from a friend a +secret, which hitherto he has often taken great pains to conceal. The +soul then feels an irresistible impulse to impart itself completely, +and reveal its innermost self to the friend, in order to make him so +much the more a friend. At these moments delicate souls disclose +themselves to each other, and it doubtless sometimes happens that the +one shrinks back in fright from its acquaintance with the other. + +One foggy evening in early autumn Eckbert was sitting with his friend +and his wife, Bertha, around the hearth-fire. The flames threw a +bright glow out into the room and played on the ceiling above. The +night looked in darkly through the windows, and the trees outside were +shivering in the damp cold. Walther was lamenting that he had so far +to go to get back home, and Eckbert proposed that he remain there and +spend half the night in familiar talk, and then sleep until morning in +one of the rooms of the castle. Walther accepted the proposal, +whereupon wine and supper were brought in, the fire was replenished +with wood, and the conversation of the two friends became more cheery +and confidential. + +After the dishes had been cleared off, and the servants had gone out, +Eckbert took Walther's hand and said: + +"Friend, you ought once to let my wife tell you the story of her +youth, which is indeed strange enough." + +"Gladly," replied Walther, and they all sat down again around the +hearth. It was now exactly midnight, and the moon shone intermittently +through the passing clouds. + +"You must forgive me," began Bertha, "but my husband says your +thoughts are so noble that it is not right to conceal anything from +you. Only you must not regard my story as a fairy-tale, no matter how +strange it may sound. + +"I was born in a village, my father was a poor shepherd. The household +economy of my parents was on a humble plane--often they did not know +where they were going to get their bread. But what grieved me far more +than that was the fact that my father and mother often quarreled over +their poverty, and cast bitter reproaches at each other. Furthermore I +was constantly hearing about myself, that I was a simple, stupid +child, who could not perform even the most trifling task. And I was +indeed extremely awkward and clumsy; I let everything drop from my +hands, I learned neither to sew nor to spin, I could do nothing to +help about the house. The misery of my parents, however, I understood +extremely well. I often used to sit in the corner and fill my head +with notions--how I would help them if I should suddenly become rich, +how I would shower them with gold and silver and take delight in their +astonishment. Then I would see spirits come floating up, who would +reveal subterranean treasures to me or give me pebbles which afterward +turned into gems. In short, the most wonderful fantasies would occupy +my mind, and when I had to get up to help or carry something, I would +show myself far more awkward than ever, for the reason that my head +would be giddy with all these strange notions. + +"My father was always very cross with me, because I was such an +absolutely useless burden on the household; so he often treated me +with great cruelty, and I seldom heard him say a kind word to me. Thus +it went along until I was about eight years old, when serious steps +were taken to get me to do and to learn something. My father believed +that it was sheer obstinacy and indolence on my part, so that I might +spend my days in idleness. Enough--he threatened me unspeakably, and +when this turned out to be of no avail, he chastised me most +barbarously, adding that this punishment was to be repeated every day +because I was an absolutely useless creature. + +"All night long I cried bitterly--I felt so entirely forsaken, and I +pitied myself so that I wanted to die. I dreaded the break of day, and +did not know what to do. I longed for any possible kind of ability, +and could not understand at all why I was more stupid than the other +children of my acquaintance. I was on the verge of despair. + +"When the day dawned, I got up, and, scarcely realizing what I was +doing, opened the door of our little cabin. I found myself in the open +field, soon afterward in a forest, into which the daylight had hardly +yet shone. I ran on without looking back; I did not get tired, for I +thought all the time that my father would surely overtake me and treat +me even more cruelly on account of my running away. + +"When I emerged from the forest again the sun was already fairly high, +and I saw, lying ahead of me, something dark, over which a thick mist +was resting. One moment I was obliged to scramble over hills, the next +to follow a winding path between rocks. I now guessed that I must be +in the neighboring mountains, and I began to feel afraid of the +solitude. For, living in the plain, I had never seen any mountains, +and the mere word mountains, whenever I heard them talked about, had +an exceedingly terrible sound to my childish ear. I hadn't the heart +to turn back--it was indeed precisely my fear which drove me onwards. +I often looked around me in terror when the wind rustled through the +leaves above me, or when a distant sound of chopping rang out through +the quiet morning. Finally, when I began to meet colliers and miners +and heard a strange pronunciation, I nearly fainted with fright. + +"You must forgive my prolixity. As often as I tell this story I +involuntarily become garrulous, and Eckbert, the only person to whom I +have told it, has spoiled me by his attention. + +"I passed through several villages and begged, for I now felt hungry +and thirsty. I helped myself along very well with the answers I gave +to questions asked me. I had wandered along in this way for about four +days, when I came to a small foot-path which led me farther from the +highway. The rocks around me now assumed a different, far stranger +shape. They were cliffs, and were piled up on one another in such a +way that they looked as if the first gust of wind would hurl them all +together into a heap. I did not know whether to go on or not. I had +always slept over night either in out-of-the-way shepherds' huts, or +else in the open woods, for it was just then the most beautiful season +of the year. Here I came across no human habitations whatever, nor +could I expect to meet with any in this wilderness. The rocks became +more and more terrible--I often had to pass close by dizzy precipices, +and finally even the path under my feet came to an end. I was +absolutely wretched; I wept and screamed, and my voice echoed horribly +in the rocky glens. And now night set in; I sought out a mossy spot to +lie down on, but I could not sleep. All night long I heard the most +peculiar noises; first I thought it was wild beasts, then the wind +moaning through the rocks, then again strange birds. I prayed, and not +until toward morning did I fall asleep. + +"I woke up when the daylight shone in my face. In front of me there +was a rock. I climbed up on it, hoping to find a way out of the +wilderness, and perhaps to see some houses or people. But when I +reached the top, everything, as far as my eye could see, was like +night about me--all overcast with a gloomy mist. The day was dark and +dismal, and not a tree, not a meadow, not even a thicket could my eye +discern, with the exception of a few bushes which, in solitary +sadness, had shot up through the crevices in the rocks. It is +impossible to describe the longing I felt merely to see a human being, +even had it been the most strange-looking person before whom I should +inevitably have taken fright. At the same time I was ravenously +hungry. I sat down and resolved to die. But after a while the desire +to live came off victorious; I got up quickly and walked on all day +long, occasionally crying out. At last I was scarcely conscious of +what I was doing; I was tired and exhausted, had hardly any desire to +live, and yet was afraid to die. + +"Toward evening the region around me began to assume a somewhat more +friendly aspect. My thoughts and wishes took new life, and the desire +to live awakened in all my veins. I now thought I heard the swishing +of a mill in the distance; I redoubled my steps, and how relieved, how +joyous I felt when at last I actually reached the end of the dreary +rocks! Woods and meadows and, far ahead, pleasant mountains lay before +me again. I felt as if I had stepped out of hell into paradise; the +solitude and my helplessness did not seem to me at all terrible now. + +"Instead of the hoped-for mill, I came upon a water-fall, which, to be +sure, considerably diminished my joy. I dished up some water from the +river with my hand and drank. Suddenly I thought I heard a low cough a +short distance away. Never have I experienced so pleasant a surprise +as at that moment; I went nearer and saw, on the edge of the forest, +an old woman, apparently resting. She was dressed almost entirely in +black; a black hood covered her head and a large part of her face. In +her hand she held a walking-stick. + +"I approached her and asked for help; she had me sit down beside her +and gave me bread and some wine. While I was eating she sang a hymn in +a shrill voice, and when she had finished she said that I might follow +her. + +"I was delighted with this proposal, strange as the voice and the +personality of the old woman seemed to me. She walked rather fast with +her cane, and at every step she distorted her face, which at first +made me laugh. The wild rocks steadily receded behind us--we crossed a +pleasant meadow, and then passed through a fairly long forest. When we +emerged from this, the sun was just setting, and I shall never forget +the view and the feelings of that evening. Everything was fused in the +most delicate red and gold; the tree-tops stood forth in the red glow +of evening, the charming light was spread out over the fields, the +forest and the leaves of the trees were motionless, the clear sky +looked like an open paradise, and the evening bells of the villages +rang out with a strange mournfulness across the lea. My young soul now +got its first presentment of the world and its events. I forgot myself +and my guide; my spirit and my eyes were wandering among golden +clouds. + +"We now climbed a hill, which was planted with birchtrees, and from +its summit looked down into a little valley, likewise full of birches. +In the midst of the trees stood a little hut. A lively barking came to +our ears, and presently a spry little dog was dancing around the old +woman and wagging his tail. Presently he came to me, examined me from +all sides, and then returned with friendly actions to the old woman. + +"When we were descending the hill I heard some wonderful singing, +which seemed to come from the hut. It sounded like a bird, and ran + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + Where none intrude, + Thou bringest good + For every mood, + O solitude! + +"These few words were repeated over and over; if I were to attempt to +describe the effect, it was somewhat like the blended notes of a bugle +and a shawm. + +"My curiosity was strained to the utmost. Without waiting for the old +woman's invitation, I walked into the hut with her. Dusk had already +set in. Everything was in proper order; a few goblets stood in a +cupboard, some strange-looking vessels lay on a table, and a bird was +hanging in a small, shiny cage by the window. And he, indeed, it was +that I had heard singing. The old woman gasped and coughed, seemingly +as if she would never get over it. Now she stroked the little dog, now +talked to the bird, which answered her only with its usual words. +Furthermore, she acted in no way as if I were present. While I was +thus watching her, a series of shudders passed through my body; for +her face was constantly twitching and her head shaking, as if with +age, and in such a way that it was impossible for one to tell how she +really looked. + +"When she finally ceased coughing she lighted a candle, set a very +small table, and laid the supper on it. Then she looked around at me +and told me to take one of the woven cane chairs. I sat down directly +opposite her, and the candle stood between us. She folded her bony +hands and prayed aloud, all the time twitching her face in such a way +that it almost made me laugh. I was very careful, however, not to do +anything to make her angry. + +"After supper she prayed again, and then showed me to a bed in a tiny +little side-room--she herself slept in the main room. I did not stay +awake long, for I was half dazed. I woke up several times during the +night, however, and heard the old woman coughing and talking to the +dog, and occasionally I heard the bird, which seemed to be dreaming +and sang only a few isolated words of its song. These stray notes, +united with the rustling of the birches directly in front of my +window, and also with the song of the far-off nightingale, made such a +strange combination that I felt all the time, not as if I were awake, +but as if I were lapsing into another, still stranger, dream. + +"In the morning the old woman woke me up and soon afterward gave me +some work to do; I had, namely, to spin, and I soon learned how to do +it; in addition I had to take care of the dog and the bird. I was not +long in getting acquainted with the housekeeping, and came to know all +the objects around. I now began to feel that everything was as it +should be; I no longer thought that there was anything strange about +the old woman, or romantic about the location of her home, or that the +bird was in any way extraordinary. To be sure, I was all the time +struck by his beauty; for his feathers displayed every possible color, +varying from a most beautiful light blue to a glowing red, and when he +sang he puffed himself out proudly, so that his feathers shone even +more gorgeously. + +"The old woman often went out and did not return until evening. Then I +would go with the dog to meet her and she would call me child and +daughter. Finally I came to like her heartily; for our minds, +especially in childhood, quickly accustom themselves to everything. In +the evening hours she taught me to read; I soon learned the art, and +afterward it was a source of endless pleasure to me in my solitude, +for she had a few old, hand-written books which contained wonderful +stories. + +"The memory of the life I led at that time still gives me a strange +feeling even now. I was never visited by any human being, and felt at +home only in that little family circle; for the dog and the bird made +the same impression on me which ordinarily only old and intimate +friends create. Often as I used it at that time, I have never been +able to recall the dog's strange name. + +"In this way I had lived with the old woman for four years, and I must +have been at any rate about twelve years old when she finally began to +grow more confidential and revealed a secret to me. It was this: every +day the bird laid one egg, and in this egg there was always a pearl or +a gem. I had already noticed that she often did something in the cage +secretly, but had never particularly concerned myself about it. She +now charged me with the task of taking out these eggs during her +absence, and of carefully preserving them in the vessels. She would +leave food for me and stay away quite a long time--weeks and months. +My little spinning-wheel hummed, the dog barked, the wonderful bird +sang, and meanwhile everything was so quiet in the region round about +that I cannot recall a single high wind or a thunder-storm during the +entire time. Not a human being strayed thither, not a wild animal came +near our habitation. I was happy, and sang and worked away from one +day to the next. Man would perhaps be right happy if he could thus +spend his entire life, unseen by others. + +"From the little reading that I did I formed quite wonderful +impressions of the world and of mankind. They were all drawn from +myself and the company I lived in; thus, if whimsical people were +spoken of I could not imagine them other than the little dog, +beautiful women always looked like the bird, and all old women were as +my wonderful old friend. I had also read a little about love, and in +my imagination I figured in strange tales. I formed a mental picture +of the most beautiful knight in the world and adorned him with all +sorts of excellences, without really knowing, after all my trouble, +what he looked like. But I could feel genuine pity for myself if he +did not return my love, and then I would make long, emotional speeches +to him, sometimes aloud, in order to win him. You smile--we are all +now past this period of youth. + +"I now liked it rather better when I was alone, for I was then myself +mistress of the house. The dog was very fond of me and did everything +I wanted him to do, the bird answered all my questions with his song, +my wheel was always spinning merrily, and so in the bottom of my heart +I never felt any desire for a change. When the old woman returned from +her wanderings she would praise my diligence, and say that her +household was conducted in a much more orderly manner since I belonged +to it. She was delighted with my development and my healthy look. In +short, she treated me in every way as if I were a daughter. + +"'You are a good child,' she once said to me in a squeaky voice. 'If +you continue thus, it will always go well with you. It never pays to +swerve from the right course--the penalty is sure to follow, though it +may be a long time coming.' While she was saying this I did not give a +great deal of heed to it, for I was very lively in all my movements. +But in the night it occurred to me again, and I could not understand +what she had meant by it. I thought her words over carefully--I had +read about riches, and it finally dawned on me that her pearls and +gems might perhaps be something valuable. This idea presently became +still clearer to me--but what could she have meant by the right +course? I was still unable to understand fully the meaning of her +words. + +"I was now fourteen years old. It is indeed a misfortune that human +beings acquire reason, only to lose, in so doing, the innocence of +their souls. In other words I now began to realize the fact that it +depended only upon me to take the bird and the gems in the old +woman's absence, and go out into the world of which I had read. At the +same time it was perhaps possible that I might meet my wonderfully +beautiful knight, who still held a place in my imagination. + +"At first this thought went no further than any other, but when I +would sit there spinning so constantly, it always came back against my +will and I became so deeply absorbed in it that I already saw myself +dressed up and surrounded by knights and princes. And whenever I would +thus lose myself, I easily grew very sad when I glanced up and found +myself in my little, narrow home. When I was about my business, the +old woman paid no further attention to me. + +"One day my hostess went away again and told me that she would be gone +longer this time than usual--I should pay strict attention to +everything, and not let the time drag on my hands. I took leave of her +with a certain uneasiness, for I somehow felt that I should never see +her again. I looked after her for a long time, and did not myself know +why I was so uneasy; it seemed almost as if my intention were already +standing before me, without my being distinctly conscious of it. + +"I had never taken such diligent care of the dog and the bird +before--they lay closer to my heart than ever now. The old woman had +been away several days when I arose with the firm purpose of +abandoning the hut with the bird and going out into the so-called +world. My mind was narrow and limited; I wanted again to remain there, +and yet the thought was repugnant to me. A strange conflict took place +in my soul--it was as if two contentious spirits were struggling +within me. One moment the quiet solitude would seem so beautiful to +me, and then again I would be charmed by the vision of a new world +with its manifold wonders. + +"I did not know what to do with myself. The dog was continually +dancing around me with friendly advances, the sunlight was spread out +cheerfully over the fields, and the green birch-trees shone brightly. +I had a feeling as if I had something to do requiring haste. +Accordingly, I caught the little dog, tied him fast in the room, and +took the cage, with the bird in it, under my arm. The dog cringed and +whined over this unusual treatment; he looked at me with imploring +eyes but I was afraid to take him with me. I also took one of the +vessels, which was filled with gems, and concealed it about me. The +others I left there. The bird twisted its head around in a singular +manner when I walked out of the door with him; the dog strained hard +to follow me, but was obliged to remain behind. + +"I avoided the road leading toward the wild rocks, and walked in the +opposite direction. The dog continued to bark and whine, and I was +deeply touched by it. Several times the bird started to sing, but, as +he was being carried, it was necessarily rather difficult for him. As +I walked along the barking grew fainter and fainter, and, finally, +ceased altogether. I cried and was on the point of turning back, but +the longing to see something new drove me on. + +"I had already traversed mountains and several forests when evening +came, and I was obliged to pass the night in a village. I was very +timid when I entered the public-house; they showed me to a room and a +bed, and I slept fairly well, except that I dreamt of the old woman, +who was threatening me. + +"My journey was rather monotonous; but the further I went the more the +picture of the old woman and the little dog worried me. I thought how +he would probably starve to death without my help, and in the forest I +often thought I would suddenly meet the old woman. Thus, crying and +sighing, I wandered along, and as often as I rested and put the cage +on the ground, the bird sang its wonderful song, and reminded me +vividly of the beautiful home I had deserted. As human nature is prone +to forget, I now thought that the journey I had made as a child was +not as dismal as the one I was now making, and I wished that I were +back in the same situation. + +"I had sold a few gems, and now, after wandering many days, I arrived +in a village. Even as I was entering it, a strange feeling came over +me--I was frightened and did not know why. But I soon discovered +why--it was the very same village in which I was born. How astonished +I was! How the tears of joy ran down my cheeks as a thousand strange +memories came back to me! There were a great many changes; new houses +had been built, others, which had then only recently been erected, +were now in a state of dilapidation. I came across places where there +had been a fire. Everything was a great deal smaller and more crowded +than I had expected. I took infinite delight in the thought of seeing +my parents again after so many years. I found the little house and the +well-known threshold--the handle on the door was just as it used to +be. I felt as if I had only yesterday left it ajar. My heart throbbed +vehemently. I quickly opened the door--but faces entirely strange to +me stared at me from around the room. I inquired after the shepherd, +Martin, and was told that both he and his wife had died three years +before. I hurried out and, crying aloud, left the village. + +"I had looked forward with such pleasure to surprising them with my +riches, and as a result of a remarkable accident the dream of my +childhood had really come true. And now it was all in vain--they could +no longer rejoice with me--the fondest hope of my life was lost to me +forever. + +"I rented a small house with a garden in a pleasant city, and engaged +a waiting-maid. The world did not appear to be such a wonderful place +as I had expected, but the old woman and my former home dropped more +and more out of my memory, so that, upon the whole, I lived quite +contentedly. + +"The bird had not sung for a long time, so that I was not a little +frightened one night when he suddenly began again. The song he sang, +however, was different--it was: + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + A vanished good + In dreams pursued, + In absence rued, + O solitude! + +"I could not sleep through the night; everything came back to my mind, +and I felt more than ever that I had done wrong. When I got up the +sight of the bird was positively repugnant to me; he was constantly +staring at me, and his presence worried me. He never ceased singing +now, and sang more loudly and shrilly than he used to. The more I +looked at him the more uneasiness I felt. Finally, I opened the cage, +stuck my hand in, seized him by the neck and squeezed my fingers +together forcibly. He looked at me imploringly, and I relaxed my +grip--but he was already dead. I buried him in the garden. + +"And now I was often seized with fear of my waiting-maid. My own past +came back to me, and I thought that she too might rob me some day, or +perhaps even murder me. For a long time I had known a young knight +whom I liked very much--I gave him my hand, and with that, Mr. +Walther, my story ends." + +"You should have seen her then," broke in Eckbert quickly. "Her youth, +her innocence, her beauty--and what an incomprehensible charm her +solitary breeding had given her! To me she seemed like a wonder, and I +loved her inexpressibly. I had no property, but with the help of her +love I attained my present condition of comfortable prosperity. We +moved to this place, and our union thus far has never brought us a +single moment of remorse." + +"But while I have been chattering," began Bertha again, "the night has +grown late. Let us go to bed." + +She rose to go to her room. Walther kissed her hand and wished her a +good-night, adding: + +"Noble woman, I thank you. I can readily imagine you with the strange +bird, and how you fed the little Strohmi." + +Without answering she left the room. Walther also lay down to sleep, +but Eckbert continued to walk up and down the room. + +"Aren't human beings fools?" he finally asked himself. "I myself +induced my wife to tell her story, and now I regret this confidence! +Will he not perhaps misuse it? Will he not impart it to others? Will +he not perhaps--for it is human nature--come to feel a miserable +longing for our gems and devise plans to get them and dissemble his +nature?" + +It occurred to him that Walther had not taken leave of him as +cordially as would perhaps have been natural after so confidential a +talk. When the soul is once led to suspect, it finds confirmations of +its suspicions in every little thing. Then again Eckbert reproached +himself for his ignoble distrust of his loyal friend, but he was +unable to get the notion entirely out of his mind. All night long he +tossed about with these thoughts and slept but little. + +Bertha was sick and could not appear for breakfast. Walther seemed +little concerned about it, and furthermore he left the knight in a +rather indifferent manner. Eckbert could not understand his conduct. +He went in to see his wife--she lay in a severe fever and said that +her story the night before must have excited her in this manner. + +After that evening Walther visited his friend's castle but rarely, and +even when he did come he went away again after a few trivial words. +Eckbert was exceedingly troubled by this behavior; to be sure, he +tried not to let either Bertha or Walther notice it, but both of them +must surely have been aware of his inward uneasiness. + +Bertha's sickness grew worse and worse. The doctor shook his head--the +color in her cheeks had disappeared, and her eyes became more and more +brilliant. + +One morning she summoned her husband to her bedside and told the maids +to withdraw. + +"Dear husband," she began, "I must disclose to you something which has +almost deprived me of my reason and has ruined my health, however +trivial it may seem to be. Often as I have told my story to you, you +will remember that I have never been able, despite all the efforts I +have made, to recall the name of the little dog with which I lived so +long. That evening when I told the story to Walther he suddenly said +to me when we separated: 'I can readily imagine how you fed the little +Strohmi.' Was that an accident? Did he guess the name, or did he +mention it designedly? And what, then, is this man's connection with +my lot? The idea has occurred to me now and then that I merely imagine +this accident--but it is certain, only too certain. It sent a feeling +of horror through me to have a strange person like that assist my +memory. What do you say, Eckbert?" + +Eckbert looked at his suffering wife with deep tenderness. He kept +silent, but was meditating. Then he said a few comforting words to her +and left the room. In an isolated room he walked back and forth with +indescribable restlessness--Walther for many years had been his sole +male comrade, and yet this man was now the only person in the world +whose existence oppressed and harassed him. It seemed to him that his +heart would be light and happy if only this one person might be put +out of the way. He took down his cross-bow with a view to distracting +his thoughts by going hunting. + +It was a raw and stormy day in the winter; deep snow lay on the +mountains and bent down the branches of the trees. He wandered about, +with the sweat oozing from his forehead. He came across no game, and +that increased his ill-humor. Suddenly he saw something move in the +distance--it was Walther gathering moss from the trees. Without +knowing what he was doing he took aim--Walther looked around and +motioned to him with a threatening gesture. But as he did so the arrow +sped, and Walther fell headlong. + +Eckbert felt relieved and calm, and yet a feeling of horror drove him +back to his castle. He had a long distance to go, for he had wandered +far into the forest. When he arrived home, Bertha had already +died--before her death she had spoken a great deal about Walther and +the old woman. + +For a long time Eckbert lived in greatest seclusion. He had always +been somewhat melancholy because the strange story of his wife rather +worried him; he had always lived in fear of an unfortunate event that +might take place, but now he was completely at variance with himself. +The murder of his friend stood constantly before his eyes--he spent +his life reproaching himself. + +In order to divert his thoughts, he occasionally betook himself to the +nearest large city, where he attended parties and banquets. He wished +to have a friend to fill the vacancy in his soul, and then again, when +he thought of Walther, the very word friend made him shudder. He was +convinced that he would necessarily be unhappy with all his friends. +He had lived so long in beautiful harmony with Bertha, and Walther's +friendship had made him happy for so many years, and now both of them +had been so suddenly taken from him that his life seemed at times more +like a strange fairy-tale than an actual mortal existence. + +A knight, Hugo von Wolfsberg, became attached to the quiet, melancholy +Eckbert, and seemed to cherish a genuine fondness for him. Eckbert was +strangely surprised; he met the knight's friendly advances more +quickly than the other expected. They were now frequently together, +the stranger did Eckbert all sorts of favors, scarcely ever did either +of them ride out without the other, they met each other at all the +parties--in short, they seemed to be inseparable. + +Eckbert was, nevertheless, happy only for short moments at a time, for +he felt quite sure that Hugo loved him only by mistake--he did not +know him, nor his history, and he felt the same impulse again to +unfold his soul to him in order to ascertain for sure how staunch a +friend Hugo was. Then again doubts and the fear of being detested +restrained him. There were many hours in which he felt so convinced +of his own unworthiness as to believe that no person, who knew him at +all intimately, could hold him worthy of esteem. But he could not +resist the impulse; in the course of a long walk he revealed his +entire history to his friend, and asked him if he could possibly love +a murderer. Hugo was touched and tried to comfort him. Eckbert +followed him back to the city with a lighter heart. + +However, it seemed to be his damnation that his suspicions should +awaken just at the time when he grew confidential; for they had no +more than entered the hall when the glow of the many lights revealed +an expression in his friend's features which he did not like. He +thought he detected a malicious smile, and it seemed to him that he, +Hugo, said very little to him, that he talked a great deal with the +other people present, and seemed to pay absolutely no attention to +him. There was an old knight in the company who had always shown +himself as Eckbert's rival, and had often inquired in a peculiar way +about his riches and his wife. Hugo now approached this man, and they +talked together a long time secretly, while every now and then they +glanced toward Eckbert. He, Eckbert, saw in this a confirmation of his +suspicions; he believed that he had been betrayed, and a terrible rage +overcame him. As he continued to stare in that direction, he suddenly +saw Walther's head, all his features, and his entire figure, so +familiar to him. Still looking, he became convinced that it was nobody +but Walther himself who was talking with the old man. His terror was +indescribable; completely beside himself, he rushed out, left the city +that night, and, after losing his way many times, returned to his +castle. + +Like a restless spirit he hurried from room to room. No thought could +he hold fast; the pictures in his mind grew more and more terrible, +and he did not sleep a wink. The idea often occurred to him that he +was crazy and that all these notions were merely the product of his +own imagination. Then again he remembered Walther's features, and it +was all more puzzling to him than ever. He resolved to go on a journey +in order to compose his thoughts; he had long since given up the idea +of a friend and the wish for a companion. + +Without any definite destination in view, he set out, nor did he pay +much attention to the country that lay before him. After he had +trotted along several days on his horse, he suddenly lost his way in a +maze of rocks, from which he was unable to discover any egress. +Finally he met an old peasant who showed him a way out, leading past a +water-fall. He started to give him a few coins by way of thanks, but +the peasant refused them. + +"What can it mean?" he said to himself. "I could easily imagine that +that man was no other than Walther." He looked back once more--it was +indeed no one else but Walther! + +Eckbert spurred on his horse as fast as it could run--through meadows +and forests, until, completely exhausted, it collapsed beneath him. +Unconcerned, he continued his journey on foot. + +Dreamily he ascended a hill. There he seemed to hear a dog barking +cheerily close by--birch trees rustled about him--he heard the notes +of a wonderful song: + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + Thou chiefest good, + Where thou dost brood + Is joy renewed, + O solitude! + +Now it was all up with Eckbert's consciousness and his senses; he +could not solve the mystery whether he was now dreaming or had +formerly dreamt of a woman Bertha. The most marvelous was confused +with the most ordinary--the world around him was bewitched--no +thought, no memory was under his control. + +An old crook-backed woman with a cane came creeping up the hill, +coughing. + +"Are you bringing my bird, my pearls, my dog?" she cried out to him. +"Look--wrong punishes itself. I and no other was your friend Walther, +your Hugo." + +"God in Heaven!" said Eckbert softly to himself. "In what terrible +solitude I have spent my life." + +"And Bertha was your sister." + +Eckbert fell to the ground. + +"Why did she desert me so deceitfully? Otherwise everything would have +ended beautifully--her probation-time was already over. She was the +daughter of a knight, who had a shepherd bring her up--the daughter of +your father." + +"Why have I always had a presentiment of these facts?" cried Eckbert. + +"Because in your early youth you heard your father tell of them. On +his wife's account he could not bring up this daughter himself, for +she was the child of another woman." + +Eckbert was delirious as he breathed his last; dazed and confused he +heard the old woman talking, the dog barking, and the bird repeating +its song. + + + + +THE ELVES[37] (1811) + +By LUDWIG TIECK + +TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC H. HEDGE + + +"Where is our little Mary?" asked the father. + +"She is playing out upon the green there, with our neighbor's boy," +replied the mother. + +"I wish they may not run away and lose themselves," said he; "they are +so heedless." + +The mother looked for the little ones, and brought them their evening +luncheon. "It is warm," said the boy; and Mary eagerly reached out for +the red cherries. + +"Have a care, children," said the mother, "and do not run too far from +home, or into the wood; father and I are going to the fields." + +Little Andrew answered: "Never fear, the wood frightens us; we shall +sit here by the house, where there are people near us." + +The mother went in, and soon came out again with her husband. They +locked the door, and turned toward the fields to look after their +laborers and see their hay-harvest in the meadow. Their house lay upon +a little green height, encircled by a pretty ring of paling, which +likewise inclosed their fruit and flower-garden. The hamlet stretched +somewhat deeper down, and on the other side lay the castle of the +Count. Martin rented the large farm from this nobleman, and was living +in contentment with his wife and only child; for he yearly saved some +money, and had the prospect of becoming a man of substance by his +industry, for the ground was productive, and the Count not illiberal. + +As he walked with his wife to the fields, he gazed cheerfully round, +and said: "What a different look this quarter has, Brigitta, from the +place we lived in formerly! Here it is all so green; the whole village +is bedecked with thick-spreading fruit-trees; the ground is full of +beautiful herbs and flowers; all the houses are cheerful and cleanly, +the inhabitants are at their ease: nay, I could almost fancy that the +woods are greener here than elsewhere, and the sky bluer; and, so far +as the eye can reach, you have pleasure and delight in beholding the +bountiful Earth." + +"And whenever you cross the stream," said Brigitta, "you are, as it +were, in another world, all is so dreary and withered; but every +traveler declares that our village is the fairest in the country, far +or near." + +"All but that fir-ground," said her husband; "do but look back to it, +how dark and dismal that solitary spot is lying in the gay scene--the +dingy fir-trees, with the smoky huts behind them, the ruined stalls, +the brook flowing past with a sluggish melancholy." + +"It is true," replied Brigitta; "if you but approach that spot, you +grow disconsolate and sad, you know not why. What sort of people can +they be that live there, and keep themselves so separate from the rest +of us, as if they had an evil conscience?" + +"A miserable crew," replied the young farmer; "gipsies, seemingly, +that steal and cheat in other quarters, and have their hoard and +hiding-place here. I wonder only that his lordship suffers them." + +"Who knows," said the wife, with an accent of pity, "but perhaps they +may be poor people, wishing, out of shame, to conceal their poverty; +for, after all, no one can say aught ill of them; the only thing is, +that they do not go to church, and none knows how they live; for the +little garden, which indeed seems altogether waste, cannot possibly +support them; and fields they have none." + +"God knows," said Martin, as they went along, "what trade they follow; +no mortal comes to them; for the place they live in is as if +bewitched and excommunicated, so that even our wildest fellows will +not venture into it." + +Such conversation they pursued while walking to the fields. That +gloomy spot they spoke of lay apart from the hamlet. In a dell, begirt +with firs, you might behold a hut and various dilapidated farm-houses; +rarely was smoke seen to mount from it, still more rarely did men +appear there; though at times curious people, venturing somewhat +nearer, had perceived upon the bench before the hut some hideous +women, in ragged clothes, dandling in their arms some children equally +dirty and ill-favored; black dogs were running up and down upon the +boundary; and, at eventide, a man of monstrous size was seen to cross +the foot-bridge of the brook, and disappear in the hut; then, in the +darkness, various shapes were observed, moving like shadows round an +open fire. This piece of ground, the firs, and the ruined hut, formed +in truth a strange contrast with the bright green landscape, the white +houses of the hamlet, and the stately new-built castle. + +The two little ones had now eaten their fruit; it came into their +heads to run races; and the little nimble Mary always got the start of +the less active Andrew. "It is not fair," cried Andrew at last; "let +us try it for some length, then we shall see who wins." + +"As thou wilt," said Mary; "only to the brook we must not run." + +"No," said Andrew; "but there, on the hill, stands the large +pear-tree, a quarter of a mile from this. I shall run by the left, +round past the fir-ground; thou canst try it by the right, over the +fields; so we do not meet till we get up, and then we shall see which +of us is the swifter." + +"Done," cried Mary, and began to run; "for we shall not interfere with +each other by the way, and my father says it is as far to the hill by +that side of the gipsies' house as by this." + +Andrew had already started, and Mary, turning to the right, could no +longer see him. "It is very silly," said she to herself; "I have only +to take heart, and run along the bridge, past the hut, and through the +yard, and I shall certainly be first." She was already standing by the +brook and the clump of firs. "Shall I? No; it is too frightful," said +she. A little white dog was standing on the farther side, and barking +with might and main. In her terror, Mary thought the dog some monster, +and sprang back. "Fie! fie!" said she, "the dolt is gone half way by +this time, while I stand here considering." The little dog kept +barking, and, as she looked at it more narrowly, it seemed no longer +frightful, but, on the contrary, quite pretty; it had a red collar +round its neck, with a glittering bell; and as it raised its head, and +shook itself in barking, the little bell sounded with the finest +tinkle. "Well, I must risk it!" cried she: "I will run for life; +quick, quick, I am through; certainly to Heaven, they cannot eat me up +alive in half a minute!" And with this, the gay, courageous little +Mary sprang along the foot-bridge; passed the dog, which ceased its +barking, and began to fawn on her; and in a moment she was standing on +the other bank, and the black firs all round concealed from view her +father's house and the rest of the landscape. + +But what was her astonishment when here! The loveliest, most +variegated flower-garden lay round her; tulips, roses, and lilies, +were glittering in the fairest colors; blue and gold-red butterflies +were wavering in the blossoms; cages of shining wire were hung on the +espaliers, with many-colored birds in them, singing beautiful songs; +and children in short white frocks, with flowing yellow hair and +brilliant eyes, were frolicking about; some playing with lambkins, +some feeding the birds, or gathering flowers and giving them to one +another; some, again, were eating cherries, grapes, and ruddy +apricots. No but was to be seen; but instead of it, a large fair +house, with a brazen door and lofty statues, stood glancing in the +middle of the space. Mary was confounded with surprise, and knew not +what to think; but, not being bashful, she went right up to the first +of the children, held out her hand, and wished the little creature +good evening. + +"Art thou come to visit us, then?" asked the glittering child; "I saw +thee running, playing on the other side, but thou wert frightened for +our little dog." + +"So you are not gipsies and rogues," exclaimed Mary, "as Andrew always +told me! He is a stupid thing, and talks of much he does not +understand." + +"Stay with us," said the strange little girl; "thou wilt like it +well." + +"But we are running a race." + +"Thou wilt find thy comrade soon enough. There, take and eat." + +Mary ate, and found the fruit more sweet than any she had ever tasted +in her life before; and Andrew, and the race, and the prohibition of +her parents, were entirely forgotten. + +A stately woman, in a shining robe, came toward them, and asked about +the stranger child. "Fairest lady," said Mary, "I came running hither +by chance, and now they wish to keep me." + +"Thou art aware, Zerina," said the lady, "that she can be here for but +a little while; besides, thou shouldst have asked my leave." + +"I thought," said Zerina, "when I saw her admitted across the bridge, +that I might do it; we have often seen her running in the fields, and +thou thyself hast taken pleasure in her lively temper. She will have +to leave us soon enough." + +"No, I will stay here," said the little stranger; "for here it is so +beautiful, and here I shall find the prettiest playthings, and store +of berries and cherries to boot. On the other side it is not half so +grand." + +The gold-robed lady went away with a smile; and many of the children +now came bounding round the happy Mary in their mirth, and twitched +her, and incited her to dance; others brought her lambs, or curious +playthings; others made music on instruments, and sang to it. + +She kept, however, by the playmate who had first met her; for Zerina +was the kindest and loveliest of them all. Little Mary cried and cried +again: "I will stay with you forever; I will stay with you, and you +shall be my sisters;" at which the children all laughed, and embraced +her. "Now, we shall have a royal sport," said Zerina. She ran into the +palace, and returned with a little golden box, in which lay a quantity +of seeds, like glittering dust. She lifted a few with her little hand, +and scattered some grains on the green earth. Instantly the grass +began to move, as in waves; and, after a few moments, bright +rose-bushes started from the ground, shot rapidly up, and budded all +at once, while the sweetest perfume filled the place. Mary also took a +little of the dust, and, having scattered it, she saw white lilies, +and the most variegated pinks, pushing up. At a signal from Zerina, +the flowers disappeared, and others rose in their room. "Now," said +Zerina, "look for something greater." She laid two pine-seeds in the +ground, and stamped them in sharply with her foot. Two green bushes +stood before them. "Grasp me fast," said she; and Mary threw her arms +about the slender form. She felt herself borne upward; for the trees +were springing under them with the greatest speed; the tall pines +waved to and fro, and the two children held each other fast embraced, +swinging this way and that in the red clouds of the twilight, and +kissed each other, while the rest were climbing up and down the trunks +with quick dexterity, pushing and teasing one another with loud +laughter when they met; if any fell down in the press, they flew +through the air, and sank slowly and surely to the ground. At length +Mary was beginning to be frightened; and the other little child sang a +few loud tones, and the trees again sank down and set them on the +ground as gently as they had lifted them before to the clouds. + +They next went through the brazen door of the palace. Here many fair +women, elderly and young, were sitting in the round hall, partaking of +the fairest fruits and listening to glorious invisible music. In the +vaulting of the ceiling, palms, flowers, and groves stood painted, +among which little figures of children were sporting and winding in +every graceful posture; and with the tones of the music, the images +altered and glowed with the most burning colors; now the blue and +green were sparkling like radiant light, now these tints faded back in +paleness, the purple flamed up, and the gold took fire; and then the +naked children seemed to be alive among the flower-garlands, and to +draw breath and emit it through their ruby-colored lips; so that by +turns you could see the glance of their little white teeth, and the +lighting up of their azure eyes. + +From the hall, a stair of brass led down to a subterranean chamber. +Here lay much gold and silver, and precious stones of every hue shone +out between them. Strange vessels stood along the walls, and all +seemed filled with costly things. The gold was worked into many forms, +and glittered with the friendliest red. Many little dwarfs were busied +in sorting the pieces from the heap, and putting them in the vessels; +others, hunch-backed and bandy-legged, with long red noses, were +tottering slowly along, half-bent to the ground, under full sacks, +which they bore as millers do their grain, and, with much panting, +shaking out the gold-dust on the ground. Then they darted awkwardly to +the right and left, and caught the rolling balls that were likely to +run away; and it happened now and then that one in his eagerness upset +another, so that both fell heavily and clumsily to the ground. They +made angry faces, and looked askance, as Mary laughed at their +gestures and their ugliness. Behind them sat an old crumpled little +man, whom Zerina reverently greeted; he thanked her with a grave +inclination of his head. He held a sceptre in his hand, and wore a +crown upon his brow, and all the other dwarfs appeared to regard him +as their master and obey his nod. + +"What more wanted?" asked he, with a surly voice, as the children +came a little nearer. Mary was afraid, and did not speak; but her +companion answered, they were only come to look about them in the +chamber. "Still your old child-tricks!" replied the dwarf; "will there +never be an end to idleness?" With this, he turned again to his +employment, kept his people weighing and sorting the ingots; some he +sent away on errands, some he chid with angry tones. + +"Who is the gentleman?" asked Mary. + +"Our Metal-Prince," replied Zerina, as they walked along. + +They seemed once more to reach the open air, for they were standing by +a lake, yet no sun appeared, and they saw no sky above their heads. A +little boat received them, and Zerina steered it diligently forward. +It shot rapidly along. On gaining the middle of the lake, little Mary +saw that multitudes of pipes, channels, and brooks were spreading from +the little sea in every direction. "These waters to the right," said +Zerina, "flow beneath your garden, and this is why it blooms so +freshly; by the other side we get down into the great stream." On a +sudden, out of all the channels, and from every quarter of the lake, +came a crowd of little children swimming up; some wore garlands of +sedge and water-lily; some had red stems of coral, others were blowing +on crooked shells; a tumultuous noise echoed merrily from the dark +shores; among the children might be seen the fairest women sporting in +the waters, and often several of the children sprang about some one of +them, and with kisses hung upon her neck and shoulders. All saluted +the stranger; and these steered onward through the revelry out of the +lake, into a little river, which grew narrower and narrower. At last +the boat came aground. The strangers took their leave, and Zerina +knocked against the cliff. This opened like a door, and a female form, +all red, assisted them to mount. "Are you all brisk here?" inquired +Zerina. "They are just at work," replied the other, "and happy as +they could wish; indeed, the heat is very pleasant." + +They went up a winding stair, and on a sudden Mary found herself in a +most resplendent hall, so that, as she entered, her eyes were dazzled +by the radiance. Flame-colored tapestry covered the walls with a +purple glow; and when her eye had grown a little used to it, the +stranger saw, to her astonishment, that, in the tapestry, there were +figures moving up and down in dancing joyfulness, in form so +beautiful, and of so fair proportions, that nothing could be seen more +graceful; their bodies were as of red crystal, so that it appeared as +if the blood were visible within them, flowing and playing in its +courses. They smiled on the stranger, and saluted her with various +bows; but as Mary was about approaching nearer them, Zerina plucked +her sharply back, crying: "Thou wilt burn thyself, my little Mary, for +the whole of it is fire." + +Mary felt the heat. "Why do the pretty creatures not come out," asked +she, "and play with us?" + +"As thou livest in the Air," replied the other, "so are they obliged +to stay continually in Fire, and would faint and languish if they left +it. Look now, how glad they are, how they laugh and shout; those down +below spread out the fire-floods everywhere beneath the earth, and +thereby the flowers, and fruits, and wine, are made to flourish; these +red streams again are to run beside the brooks of water; and thus the +fiery creatures are kept ever busy and glad. But for thee it is too +hot here; let us return to the garden." + +In the garden, the scene had changed since they left it. The moonshine +was lying on every flower; the birds were silent, and the children +were asleep in complicated groups, among the green groves. Mary and +her friend, however, did not feel fatigue, but walked about in the +warm summer night, in abundant talk, till morning. + +When the day dawned, they refreshed themselves on fruit and milk, and +Mary said: "Suppose we go, by way of change, to the firs, and see how +things look there?" + +"With all my heart," replied Zerina; "thou wilt see our watchmen, +too, and they will surely please thee; they are standing up among the +trees on the mound." The two proceeded through the flower-gardens by +pleasant groves, full of nightingales; then they ascended vine-hills; +and at last, after long following the windings of a clear brook, +arrived at the firs and the height which bounded the domain. "How does +it come," asked Mary, "that we have to walk so far here, when, +without, the circuit is so narrow?" + +"I know not," said her friend; "but so it is." + +They mounted to the dark firs, and a chill wind blew from without in +their faces; a haze seemed lying far and wide over the landscape. On +the top were many strange forms standing, with mealy, dusty faces, +their misshapen heads not unlike those of white owls; they were clad +in folded cloaks of shaggy wool; they held umbrellas of curious skins +stretched out above them; and they waved and fanned themselves +incessantly with large bat's wings, which flared out curiously beside +the woolen roquelaures. "I could laugh, yet I am frightened," cried +Mary. + +"These are our good trusty watchmen," said her playmate; "they stand +here and wave their fans, that cold anxiety and inexplicable fear may +fall on every one that attempts to approach us. They are covered so, +because without it is now cold and rainy, which they cannot bear. But +snow, or wind, or cold air, never reaches down to us; here is an +everlasting spring and summer: yet if these poor people on the top +were not frequently relieved, they would certainly perish." + +"But who are you, then?" inquired Mary, while again descending to the +flowery fragrance; "or have you no name at all?" + +"We are called the Elves," replied the friendly child; "people talk +about us on the Earth, as I have heard." + +They now perceived a mighty bustle on the green. "The fair Bird is +come!" cried the children to them: all hastened to the hall. Here, as +they approached, young and old were crowding over the threshold, all +shouting for joy; and from within resounded a triumphant peal of +music. Having entered, they perceived the vast circuit filled with the +most varied forms, and all were looking upward to a large Bird with +gleaming plumage, that was sweeping slowly round in the dome, and in +its stately flight describing many a circle. The music sounded more +gaily than before; the colors and lights alternated more rapidly. At +last the music ceased; and the Bird, with a rustling noise, floated +down upon a glittering crown that hung hovering in air under the high +window by which the hall was lighted from above. His plumage was +purple and green, and shining golden streaks played through it; on his +head there waved a diadem of feathers, so resplendent that they +sparkled like jewels. His bill was red, and his legs of a flashing +blue. As he moved, the tints gleamed through each other, and the eye +was charmed with their radiance. His size was as that of an eagle. But +now he opened his glittering beak; and sweetest melodies came pouring +from his moved breast, in finer tones than the lovesick nightingale +gives forth; still stronger rose the song, and streamed like floods of +Light, so that all, the very children themselves, were moved by it to +tears of joy and rapture. When he ceased, all bowed before him; he +again flew round the dome in circles, then darted through the door, +and soared into the light heaven, where he shone far up like a red +point, and then soon vanished from their eyes. + +"Why are ye all so glad?" inquired Mary, bending to her fair playmate, +who seemed smaller than yesterday. + +"The King is coming!" said the little one; "many of us have never seen +him, and whithersoever he turns his face, there are happiness and +mirth; we have long looked for him, more anxiously than you look for +spring when winter lingers with you; and now he has announced, by his +fair herald, that he is at hand. This wise and glorious Bird, that has +been sent to us by the King, is called Phoenix; he dwells far off in +Arabia, on a tree--there is no other that resembles it on Earth, as +in like manner there is no second Phoenix. + +[Illustration: #DANCE OF THE ELVES# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +When he feels himself grown old, he builds a pile of balm and incense, +kindles it, and dies singing; and then from the fragrant ashes soars +up the renewed Phoenix with unlessened beauty. It is seldom he so +wings his course that men behold him; and when once in centuries this +does occur, they note it in their annals, and expect remarkable +events. But now, my friend, thou and I must part; for the sight of the +King is not permitted thee." + +Then the lady with the golden robe came through the throng, and +beckoning Mary to her, led her into a sequestered walk. "Thou must +leave us, my dear child," said she; "the King is to hold his court +here for twenty years, perhaps longer; and fruitfulness and blessings +will spread far over the land, but chiefly here beside us; all the +brooks and rivulets will become more bountiful, all the fields and +gardens richer, the wine more generous, the meadows more fertile, and +the woods more fresh and green; a milder air will blow, no hail shall +hurt, no flood shall threaten. Take this ring, and think of us; but +beware of telling any one of our existence or we must fly this land, +and thou and all around will lose the happiness and blessing of our +neighborhood. Once more, kiss thy playmate, and farewell." They issued +from the walk; Zerina wept, Mary stooped to embrace her, and they +parted. Already she was on the narrow bridge; the cold air was blowing +on her back from the firs; the little dog barked with all its might, +and rang its little bell; she looked round, then hastened over, for +the darkness of the firs, the bleakness of the ruined huts, the +shadows of the twilight, were filling her with terror. + +"What a night my parents must have had on my account!" said she within +herself, as she stepped on the green; "and I dare not tell them where +I have been, or what wonders I have witnessed, nor indeed would they +believe me." Two men passing by saluted her, and as they went along, +she heard them say: "What a pretty girl! Where can she have come +from?" With quickened steps she approached the house; but the trees +which were hanging last night loaded with fruit were now standing dry +and leafless; the house was differently painted, and a new barn had +been built beside it. Mary was amazed, and thought she must be +dreaming. In this perplexity she opened the door; and behind the table +sat her father, between an unknown woman and a stranger youth. "Good +God! Father," cried she, "where is my mother?" + +"Thy mother!" said the woman, with a forecasting tone, and sprang +toward her: "Ha, thou surely canst not--yes, indeed, indeed thou art +my lost, long-lost, dear, only Mary!" She had recognized her by a +little brown mole beneath the chin, as well as by her eyes and shape. +All embraced her, all were moved with joy, and the parents wept. Mary +was astonished that she almost reached to her father's stature; and +she could not understand how her mother had become so changed and +faded; she asked the name of the stranger youth. "It is our neighbor's +Andrew," said Martin. "How comest thou to us again, so unexpectedly, +after seven long years? Where hast thou been? Why didst thou never +send us tidings of thee?" + +"Seven years!" said Mary, and could not order her ideas and +recollections. "Seven whole years?" + +"Yes, yes," said Andrew, laughing, and shaking her trustfully by the +hand; "I have won the race, good Mary; I was at the pear-tree and back +again seven years ago, and thou, sluggish creature, art but just +returned!" + +They again asked, they pressed her; but remembering her instruction, +she could answer nothing. It was they themselves chiefly that, by +degrees, shaped a story for her: How, having lost her way, she had +been taken up by a coach, and carried to a strange remote part, where +she could not give the people any notion of her parents' residence; +how she was conducted to a distant town, where certain worthy persons +brought her up, and loved her; how they had lately died, and at length +she had recollected her birthplace, and so returned. "No matter how it +is!" exclaimed her mother; "enough that we have thee again, my little +daughter, my own, my all!" + +Andrew waited supper, and Mary could not be at home in anything she +saw. The house seemed small and dark; she felt astonished at her +dress, which was clean and simple, but appeared quite foreign; she +looked at the ring on her finger, and the gold of it glittered +strangely, inclosing a stone of burning red. To her father's question, +she replied that the ring also was a present from her benefactors. + +She was glad when the hour of sleep arrived, and she hastened to her +bed. Next morning she felt much more collected; she had now arranged +her thoughts a little, and could better stand the questions of the +people in the village, all of whom came in to bid her welcome. Andrew +was there too with the earliest, active, glad, and serviceable beyond +all others. The blooming maiden of fifteen had made a deep impression +on him; he had passed a sleepless night. The people of the castle +likewise sent for Mary, and she had once more to tell her story to +them, which was now grown quite familiar to her. The old Count and his +Lady were surprised at her good breeding; she was modest, but not +embarrassed; she made answer courteously in good phrases to all their +questions; all fear of noble persons and their equipage had passed +away from her; for when she measured these halls and forms by the +wonders and the high beauty she had seen with the Elves in their +hidden abode, this earthly splendor seemed but dim to her, the +presence of men was almost mean. The young lords were charmed with her +beauty. + +It was now February. The trees were budding earlier than usual; the +nightingale had never come so soon; the spring rose fairer in the land +than the oldest men could recollect it. In every quarter, little +brooks gushed out to irrigate the pastures and meadows; the hills +seemed heaving, the vines rose higher and higher, the fruit-trees +blossomed as they had never done; and a swelling fragrant blessedness +hung suspended heavily in rosy clouds over the scene. All prospered +beyond expectation: no rude day, no tempest injured the fruits; the +wine flowed blushing in immense grapes; and the inhabitants of the +place felt astonished, and were captivated as in a sweet dream. The +next year was like its forerunner; but men had now become accustomed +to the marvelous. In autumn, Mary yielded to the pressing entreaties +of Andrew and her parents; she was betrothed to him, and in winter +they were married. + +She often thought with inward longing of her residence behind the +fir-trees; she continued serious and still. Beautiful as all that lay +around her was, she knew of something yet more beautiful; and from the +remembrance of this a faint regret attuned her nature to soft +melancholy. It smote her painfully when her father and mother talked +about the gipsies and vagabonds that dwelt in the dark spot of ground. +Often she was on the point of speaking out in defense of those good +beings, whom she knew to be the benefactors of the land; especially to +Andrew, who appeared to take delight in zealously abusing them; yet +still she repressed the word that was struggling to escape her bosom. +So passed this year; in the next, she was solaced by a little +daughter, whom she named Elfrida, thinking of the designation of her +friendly Elves. + +The young people lived with Martin and Brigitta, the house being large +enough for all, and helped their parents in conducting their now +extended husbandry. The little Elfrida soon displayed peculiar +faculties and gifts; for she could walk at a very early age, and could +speak perfectly before she was a twelvemonth old; and after some few +years she had become so wise and clever, and of such wondrous beauty, +that all people regarded her with astonishment, and her mother could +not banish the thought that her child resembled one of those shining +little ones in the space behind the Firs. Elfrida cared not to be with +other children, but seemed to avoid, with a sort of horror, their +tumultuous amusements, and liked best to be alone. She would then +retire into a corner of the garden, and read, or work diligently with +her needle; often also you might see her sitting, as if deep in +thought, or impetuously walking up and down the alleys, speaking to +herself. Her parents readily allowed her to have her will in these +things, for she was healthy, and waxed apace; only her strange +sagacious answers and observations often made them anxious. "Such wise +children do not grow to age," her grandmother, Brigitta, many times +observed; "they are too good for this world; the child, besides, is +beautiful beyond nature, and will never find her proper place on +Earth." + +The little girl had this peculiarity, that she was very loath to let +herself be served by any one, but endeavored to do everything herself. +She was almost the earliest riser in the house; she washed herself +carefully, and dressed without assistance; at night she was equally +careful; she took special heed to pack up her clothes and belongings +with her own hands, allowing no one, not even her mother, to meddle +with her articles. The mother humored her in this caprice, not +thinking it of any consequence. But what was her astonishment, when, +happening one holiday to insist, regardless of Elfrida's tears and +screams, on dressing her out for a visit to the castle, she found upon +her breast, suspended by a string, a piece of gold of a strange form, +which she directly recognized as one of the sort she had seen in such +abundance in the subterranean vaults! The little thing was greatly +frightened, and at last confessed that she had found it in the garden, +and, as she liked it much, had kept it carefully; she at the same time +prayed so earnestly and pressingly to have it back that Mary fastened +it again in its former place, and, full of thoughts, went out with her +in silence to the castle. + +Sideward from the farm-house lay some offices for the storing of +produce and implements; and behind these there was a little green, +with an old arbor, now visited by no one, as, from the new arrangement +of the buildings, it lay too far from the garden. In this solitude +Elfrida delighted most; and it occurred to nobody to interrupt her +here, so that frequently her parents did not see her for half a day. +One afternoon her mother chanced to be in these buildings, seeking for +some lost article among the lumber; and she noticed that a beam of +light was coming in, through a chink in the wall. She took a thought +of looking through this aperture, and seeing what her child was busied +with; and it happened that a stone was lying loose, and could be +pushed aside, so that she obtained a view right into the arbor. +Elfrida was sitting there on a little bench, and beside her the +well-known Zerina; and the children were playing and amusing each +other, in the kindliest unity. The Elf embraced her beautiful +companion, and said mournfully: "Ah! dear little creature, as I sport +with thee, so have I sported with thy mother, when she was a child; +but you mortals so soon grow tall and thoughtful! It is very hard; +wert thou but to be a child as long as I!" + +"Willingly would I do it," said Elfrida; "but they all say I shall +come to sense and give over playing altogether; for I have great +gifts, as they think, for growing wise. Ah! and then I shall see thee +no more, thou dear Zerina! Yet it is with us as with the fruit-tree +flowers--how glorious the blossoming apple-tree, with its red bursting +buds! It looks so stately and broad; and every one that passes under +it thinks surely something great will come of it; then the sun grows +hot, and the buds come joyfully forth; but the wicked kernel is +already there, which pushes off and casts away the fair flower's +dress; and now, in pain and waxing, it can do nothing more, but must +grow to fruit in harvest. An apple, to be sure, is pretty and +refreshing; yet nothing to the blossom of spring. So is it also with +us mortals; I am not glad in the least at growing to be a tall girl. +Ah! could I but once visit you!" + +"Since the King is with us," said Zerina, "it is quite impossible; but +I will come to thee, my darling, often, often, and none shall see me +either here or there. I will pass invisible through the air, or fly +over to thee like a bird. Oh, we will be much, much together, while +thou art so little! What can I do to please thee?" + +"Thou must like me very dearly," said Elfrida, "as I like thee in my +heart; but come, let us make another rose." Zerina took a well-known +box from her bosom, threw two grains from it on the ground, and +instantly a green bush stood before them, with two deep-red roses, +bending their heads as if to kiss each other. The children plucked +them smiling, and the bush disappeared. "O that it would not die so +soon!" said Elfrida; "this red child, this wonder of the Earth!" + +"Give it me here," said the little Elf; then breathed thrice upon the +budding rose, and kissed it thrice. "Now," said she, giving back the +rose, "it will continue fresh and blooming till winter." + +"I will keep it," said Elfrida, "as an image of thee; I will guard it +in my little room, and kiss it night and morning as if it were +thyself." + +"The sun is setting," said the other; "I must home." They embraced +again, and Zerina vanished. + +In the evening, Mary clasped her child to her breast, with a feeling +of alarm and veneration. She henceforth allowed the good little girl +more liberty than formerly; and often calmed her husband, when he came +to search for the child; which for some time he was wont to do, as her +retiredness did not please him, and he feared that, in the end, it +might make her silly, or even pervert her understanding. The mother +often glided to the chink; and almost always found the bright Elf +beside her child, employed in sport, or in earnest conversation. + +"Wouldst thou like to fly?" inquired Zerina once. + +"Oh, well! How well!" replied Elfrida; and the fairy clasped her +mortal playmate in her arms, and mounted with her from the ground, +till they hovered above the arbor. The mother, in alarm, forgot +herself, and pushed out her head in terror to look after them; when +Zerina from the air, held up her finger, and threatened, yet smiled; +then descended with the child, embraced her, and disappeared. After +this, it happened more than once that Mary was observed by her; and +every time, the shining little creature shook her head, or threatened, +yet with friendly looks. + +Often, in disputing with her husband, Mary had said in her zeal: "Thou +dost injustice to the poor people in the hut!" But when Andrew pressed +her to explain why she differed in opinion from the whole village, +nay, from his lordship himself, and why she could understand it better +than the whole of them, she still broke off embarrassed, and became +silent. One day, after dinner, Andrew grew more insistent than ever, +and maintained that, by one means or another, the crew must be packed +away, as a nuisance to the country; when his wife, in anger, said to +him: "Hush! for they are benefactors to thee and to every one of us." + +"Benefactors!" cried the other, in astonishment; "These rogues and +vagabonds?" + +In her indignation, she was now at last tempted to relate to him, +under promise of the strictest secrecy, the history of her youth; and +as Andrew at every word grew more incredulous, and shook his head in +mockery, she took him by the hand, and led him to the chink; where, to +his amazement, he beheld the glittering Elf sporting with his child, +and caressing her in the arbor. He knew not what to say; an +exclamation of astonishment escaped him, and Zerina raised her eyes. +On the instant she grew pale, and trembled violently; not with +friendly, but with indignant looks, she made the sign of threatening, +and then said to Elfrida "Thou canst not help it, dearest heart; but +outsiders will never learn sense, wise as they believe themselves." +She embraced the little one with stormy haste; and then, in the shape +of a raven, flew with hoarse cries over the garden, toward the firs. + +In the evening, the little one was very still, she kissed her rose +with tears; Mary felt depressed and frightened; Andrew scarcely spoke. +It grew dark. Suddenly there went a rustling through the trees; birds +flew to and fro with wild screaming, thunder was heard to roll, the +earth shook, and tones of lamentation moaned in the air. Andrew and +his wife had not courage to rise; they wrapped themselves in their bed +clothes, and with fear and trembling awaited the day. Toward morning +it grew calmer; and all was silent when the sun, with his cheerful +light, rose over the wood. + +Andrew dressed himself, and Mary now observed that the stone of the +ring upon her finger had become quite pale. On opening the door, the +sun shone clear on their faces, but the scene around them they could +scarcely recognize. The freshness of the wood was gone; the hills were +shrunk, the brooks were flowing languidly with scanty streams, the sky +seemed gray; and when you turned to the Firs, they were standing there +no darker or more dreary than the other trees. The huts behind were no +longer frightful; and several inhabitants of the village came and told +about the fearful night, and how they had been across the spot where +the gipsies had lived; how these people must have left the place at +last, for their huts were standing empty, and within had quite a +common look, just like the dwellings of other poor people; some of +their household gear was left behind. + +Elfrida in secret said to her mother: "I could not sleep last night; +and in my fright at the noise, I was praying from the bottom of my +heart, when the door suddenly opened, and my playmate entered to take +leave of me. She had a traveling-pouch slung round her, a hat on her +head, and a large staff in her hand. She was very angry at thee; since +on thy account she had now to suffer the severest and most painful +punishments, as she had always been so fond of thee; for all of them, +she said, were very loath to leave this quarter." + +Mary forbade her to speak of this; and now the ferryman came across +the river, and told them new wonders. As it was growing dark, a +stranger of large size had come to him, and had hired his boat till +sunrise, but with this condition, that the boatman should remain quiet +in his house--at least should not cross the threshold of his door. "I +was frightened," continued the old man, "and the strange bargain would +not let me sleep. I slipped softly to the window, and looked toward +the river. Great clouds were driving restlessly through the sky, and +the distant woods were rustling fearfully; it was as if my cottage +shook, and moans and lamentations glided round it. On a sudden, I +perceived a white streaming light that grew broader and broader, like +many thousands of falling stars; sparkling and waving, it proceeded +forward from the dark Fir-ground, moved over the fields, and spread +itself along toward the river. Then I heard a trampling, a jingling, a +bustling, and rushing, nearer and nearer; it went forward to my boat, +and all stepped into it, men and women; as it seemed, and children; +and the tall stranger ferried them over. In the river, by the boat, +were swimming many thousands of glittering forms; in the air white +clouds and lights were wavering; and all lamented and bewailed that +they must travel forth so far, far away, and leave their beloved +dwelling. The noise of the rudder and the water creaked and gurgled +between whiles, and then suddenly there would be silence. Many a time +the boat landed, and went back, and was again laden; many heavy casks, +too, they took along with them, which multitudes of horrid-looking +little fellows carried and rolled; whether they were devils or +goblins, Heaven only knows. Then came, in waving brightness, a stately +train; it seemed an old man, mounted on a small white horse, and all +were crowding round him. I saw nothing of the horse but its head; for +the rest of it was covered with costly glittering cloths and +trappings; on his brow the old man had a crown, so bright that, as he +came across, I thought the sun was rising there and the redness of the +dawn glimmering in my eyes. Thus it went on all night; I at last fell +asleep in the tumult, half in joy, half in terror. In the morning all +was still; but the river is, as it were, run off, and I know not how +I am to use my boat in it now." + +The same year there came a blight; the woods died away, the springs +ran dry; and the scene, which had once been the joy of every traveler, +was in autumn standing waste, naked, and bald, scarcely showing here +and there, in the sea of sand, a spot or two where grass, with a dingy +greenness, still grew up. The fruit-trees all withered, the vines +faded away, and the aspect of the place became so melancholy that the +Count, with his people, next year left the castle, which in time +decayed and fell to ruins. + +Elfrida gazed on her rose day and night with deep longing, and thought +of her kind playmate; and as it drooped and withered, so did she also +hang her head; and before the spring, the little maiden had herself +faded away. Mary often stood upon the spot before the hut, and wept +for the happiness that had departed. She wasted herself away like her +child, and in a few years she too was gone. Old Martin, with his +son-in-law, returned to the quarter where he had lived before. + + + + +HEINRICH VON KLEIST + + * * * * * + +THE LIFE OF HEINRICH VON KLEIST + +By JOHN S. NOLLEN, PH.D. + +President of Lake Forest College + + +Brandenburg has, from olden times, been the stern mother of soldiers, +rearing her sons in a discipline that has seemed harsh to the gentler +children of sunnier lands. The rigid and formal pines that grow in +sombre military files from the sandy ground make a fit landscape for +this race of fighting and ruling men. In the wider extent of Prussia +as well, the greatest names have been those of generals and statesmen, +such as the Great Elector, Frederick the Great, and Bismarck, rather +than poets and artists. Even among the notable writers of this region, +intellectual power has usually predominated over gifts of feeling or +of imagination; the arid, formal talent of Gottsched is an exemplary +instance, and the singularly cold and colorless mind of the greatest +thinker of modern times, Immanuel Kant, seems eminently Prussian in +quality. Growing out of such traditions and antecedents as these, the +genius of Heinrich von Kleist appears as a striking anomaly. + +This first great literary artist of Prussia was descended from a +representative Prussian family of soldiers, which had numbered +eighteen generals among its members. Heinrich von Kleist was born +October 18, 1777, at Frankfort-on-the-Oder, in the heart of +Brandenburg, where his father was stationed as a captain in the +service of Frederick the Great. The parents, both of gentle birth, +died before their children had grown to maturity. Heinrich was +predestined by all the traditions of the family to a military career; +after a private education he became, at the age of fourteen, a +corporal in the regiment of guards at Potsdam. + +[Illustration: #HEINRICH VON KLEIST IN HIS TWENTY-FOURTH YEAR# Made +after a miniature presented by the poet to his bride] + +The regiment was ordered south for the Rhine campaign against the +French revolutionists, but the young soldier saw little actual +fighting, and in June, 1795, his battalion had returned to Potsdam; he +was then an ensign, and in his twentieth year was promoted to the rank +of second lieutenant. + +The humdrum duties and the easy pleasures of garrison life had no +lasting charms for the future poet, who was as yet unconscious of his +latent power, but was restlessly reaching out for a wider and deeper +experience. We soon find him preparing himself, by energetic private +study, for the University; in April, 1799, against the wishes of his +family and his superior officers, he obtained a discharge from the +army and entered upon his brief course as a student in his native +city. He applied himself with laborious zeal to the mastery of a wide +range of subjects, and hastened, with pedantic gravity, to retail his +newly won learning to his sisters and a group of their friends. For +the time being, the impulse of self-expression took this didactic +turn, which is very prominent also in his correspondence. Within the +year he was betrothed to a member of this informal class, Wilhelmina +von Zenge, the daughter of an officer. The question of a career now +crowded out his interest in study; in August, 1800, as a step toward +the solution of this problem, Kleist returned to Berlin and secured a +modest appointment in the customs department. He found no more +satisfaction in the civil than in his former military service, and all +manner of vague plans, artistic, literary and academic, occupied his +mind. Intensive study of Kant's philosophy brought on an intellectual +crisis, in which the ardent student found himself bereft of his fond +hope of attaining to absolute truth. Meanwhile the romantic appeal of +Nature, first heeded on a trip to Würzburg, and the romantic lure of +travel, drew the dreamer irresistibly away from his desk. His sister +Ulrica accompanied him on a journey that began in April, 1801, and +brought them, by a devious route, to Paris in July. By this time +Kleist had become clearly conscious of his vocation; the strong +creative impulse that had hitherto bewildered him now found its proper +vent in poetic expression, and he felt himself dedicated to a literary +career. With characteristic secretiveness he kept hidden, even from +his sister, the drama at which he was quietly working. + +Absorbed in his new ambition, Kleist found little in Paris to interest +him. He felt the need of solitude for the maturing of his plans, and +with the double object of seeking in idyllic pursuits the inspiration +of Nature and of earning leisure for writing, he proposed to his +betrothed that she join him secretly in establishing a home upon a +small farm in Switzerland. When Wilhelmina found it impossible to +accept this plan, Kleist coldly severed all relations with her. He +journeyed to Switzerland in December, 1801, and in Bern became +acquainted with a group of young authors, the novelist Heinrich +Zschokke, the publisher Heinrich Gessner, and Ludwig Wieland, son of +the famous author of _Oberon_. To these sympathetic friends he read +his first tragedy, which, in its earlier draft, had a Spanish setting, +as _The Thierrez Family_ or _The Ghonorez Family_, but which, on their +advice, was given a German background. This drama Gessner published +for Kleist, under the title _The Schroffenstein Family_, in the winter +of 1802-03. It had no sooner appeared than the author felt himself to +have outgrown its youthful weaknesses of imitation and exaggeration. +Another dramatic production grew directly out of the discussions of +this little circle. The friends agreed, on a wager, to put into +literary form the story suggested by an engraving that hung in +Zschokke's room. By common consent the prize was awarded to Kleist's +production, his one comedy, _The Broken Jug_. + +In April, 1802, Kleist realized his romantic dream by taking up his +abode, in rural seclusion, on a little island at the outlet of the +Lake of Thun, amid the majestic scenery of the Bernese Oberland. In +this retreat, encouraged by the applause of his first confidants, he +labored with joyous energy, recasting his _Schroffenstein Family_, +working out the _Broken Jug_, meditating historical dramas on Leopold +of Austria and Peter the Hermit, and expending the best of his +untrained genius on the plan of a tragedy, _Robert Guiscard_, in which +he strove to create a drama of a new type, combining the beauties of +Greek classical art and of Shakespeare; with his _Guiscard_ the young +poet even dared hope to "snatch the laurel wreath from Goethe's brow." + +Two months of intense mental exertion in the seclusion of his island +left Kleist exhausted, and he fell seriously ill; whereupon Ulrica, on +receiving belated news of his plight, hastened to Bern to care for +him. When a political revolution drove Ludwig Wieland from Bern, they +followed the latter to Weimar, where the poet Wieland, the dean of the +remarkable group of great authors gathered at Weimar, received Kleist +kindly, and made him his guest at his country estate. With great +difficulty Wieland succeeded in persuading his secretive visitor to +reveal his literary plans; and when Kleist recited from memory some of +the scenes of his unfinished _Guiscard_, the old poet was transported +with enthusiasm; these fragments seemed to him worthy of the united +genius of Æschylus, Sophocles, and Shakespeare, and he was convinced +that Kleist had the power to "fill the void in the history of the +German drama that even Goethe and Schiller had not filled." But in +spite of Wieland's generous encouragement, Kleist found it impossible +to complete this masterpiece, and his hopeless pursuit of the perfect +ideal became an intolerable obsession to his ambitious and sensitive +soul. He could not remain in Weimar. In Dresden old friends sought to +cheer him in his desperate attempts to seize the elusive ideal; to +more than one of them, in his despair, he proposed a joint suicide. +Again he was driven to seek solace and inspiration in travel, a friend +accompanying him to Switzerland. Arrived at Geneva in October, 1803, +Kleist fell into the deepest despondency, and wrote Ulrica a letter +full of hopeless renunciation. Half crazed by disappointment and +wounded pride, he rushed madly through France to Paris, broke with his +friend, who had again repelled a joint suicide, burned his manuscript +of _Guiscard_, and made secretly for Boulogne, hoping to find an +honorable death in Napoleon's projected invasion of England. +Fortunately he fell in with an acquaintance who saved him from the +risk of being arrested as a spy, and started him back on his homeward +way. He was detained at Mentz by serious illness, but finally, in +June, 1804, reappeared in Potsdam. The poet's spirit was broken, and +he was glad to accept a petty civil post that took him to Königsberg. +After a year of quiet work, he was enabled, by a small pension from +Queen Louise, to resign his office and again devote himself to +literature. + +The two years spent in Königsberg were years of remarkable development +in Kleist's literary power. Warned by the catastrophe of the earlier +attempt to reach the heights at a single bound, he now schooled +himself with simpler tasks: adaptations, from the French, of La +Fontaine's poem, _The two Pigeons_, and of Molière's comedy, +_Amphitryon_--both so altered in the interpretation that they seem +more like originals than translations; prose tales that are admirable +examples of this form--_The Marquise of O._, _The Earthquake in +Chili_, and the first part of the masterly short story _Michael +Kohlhaas_; and the recasting of the unique comedy _The Broken Jug_. +Finally he attempted another great drama in verse, _Penthesilea_, +embodying in the old classical story the tragedy of his own desperate +struggle for _Guiscard_, and his crushing defeat. + +Meanwhile the clouds were gathering about his beloved country, and in +October, 1806, the thunderbolt fell in the rout of the Prussian army +at Jena. Napoleon's victorious troops pressed on to Berlin and the +Prussian court retreated with the tide of fugitives to Königsberg. +Kleist was overwhelmed by the misery of this cataclysm, which, +however, he had clearly foreseen and foretold. With a group of +friends he started on foot for Dresden, but was arrested as a spy at +the gates of Berlin and held for months as a prisoner in French +fortresses, before the energetic efforts of Ulrica and others procured +his release. + +Late in July, 1807, he finally arrived in Dresden, where he remained +until April, 1809. These were the happiest and the most prolific +months of his fragmentary life. The best literary and social circles +of the Saxon capital were open to him, his talent was recognized by +the leading men of the city, a laurel wreath was placed upon his brow +by "the prettiest hands in Dresden;" at last he found all his hopes +being realized. With three friends he embarked on an ambitious +publishing enterprise, which included the issuing of a sumptuous +literary and artistic monthly, the _Phoebus_. This venture was +foredoomed to failure by the inexperience of its projectors and by the +unsettled condition of a time full of political upheaval and most +unfavorable to any literary enterprise. Kleist's own contributions to +this periodical were of the highest value; here appeared first in +print generous portions of _Penthesilea, The Broken Jug_, and the new +drama _Kitty of Heilbronn_, the first act of the ill-fated _Robert +Guiscard_, evidently reproduced from memory, _The Marquise of O._, and +part of _Michael Kohlhaas_. If we add to these works the great +patriotic drama, _Arminius_ (_Die Hermannsschlacht_), two tales, _The +Betrothal in San Domingo_ and _The Foundling_, and lyric and narrative +poems, the production of the brief period in Dresden is seen to bulk +very large. + +In the stress of the times and in spite of the most strenuous efforts, +the _Phoebus_ went under with the first volume, and the publishing +business was a total wreck. Kleist's joy at the acceptance of _The +Broken Jug_ by Goethe for the Weimar theatre was turned to bitterness +when, because of unintelligent acting and stage management, this +brilliant comedy failed wretchedly; the disappointed author held +Goethe responsible for this fiasco and foolishly attacked him in a +series of spiteful epigrams. He longed to have his _Arminius_ +performed at Vienna, but the Austrian authorities were too timid to +risk the production of a play that openly preached German unity and a +war of revenge against the "Roman tyranny" of Napoleon. Kleist then +turned to lyric poetry and polemic tirades for the expression of his +patriotic ardor. When Austria rose against Napoleon, he started for +the seat of war and was soon the happy eye-witness of the Austrian +victory at Aspern, in May, 1809. In Prague, with the support of the +commandant, he planned a patriotic journal, for which he immediately +wrote a series of glowing articles, mostly in the form of political +satires. This plan was wrecked by the decisive defeat of the Austrians +at Wagram in July. + +Broken by these successive disasters, Kleist again fell seriously ill; for +four months his friends had no word from him, and reports of his death +were current. In November, 1809, he came to Frankfort-on-the-Oder to +dispose of his share in the family home as a last means of raising funds, +and again disappeared. In January, 1810, he passed through Frankfort +on the way to Berlin, to which the Prussian court, now subservient to +Napoleon, had returned. He found many old friends in Berlin, and even +had prospects of recognition from the court, as the brave and beautiful +Queen Louise was very kindly disposed toward him. Again he turned to +dramatic production, and in the patriotic Prussian play, _Prince +Frederick of Homburg_, created his masterpiece. Fortune seemed once +more to be smiling upon the dramatist; the _Prince of Homburg_ was to +be dedicated to Queen Louise, and performed privately at the palace of +Prince Radziwill, before being given at the National Theatre. But +again the cup of success was dashed from the poet's lips. With the +death of Queen Louise, in July, 1810, he lost his only powerful friend +at court, and now found it impossible to get a hearing for his drama. + +[Illustration: SARCOPHAGUS OF QUEEN LOUISE IN THE MAUSOLEUM AT +CHARLOTTENBURG _Sculptor, Christian Rauch_] + +Other disappointments came in rapid succession. _Kitty of Heilbronn_, +performed after many delays at Vienna, was not a success, and Iffland, +the popular dramatist and director of the Berlin Theatre, rejected +this play, while accepting all manner of commonplace works by inferior +authors. The famous publisher Cotta did print _Penthesilea_, but was +so displeased with it that he made no effort to sell the edition, and +_Kitty of Heilbronn_, declined by Cotta, fell flat when it was printed +in Berlin. Two volumes of tales, including some masterpieces in this +form, hardly fared better; the new numbers in this collection were +_The Duel, The Beggar Woman of Locarno_, and _Saint Cecilia_. Again +the much-tried poet turned to journalism. From October, 1810, until +March, 1811, with the assistance of the popular philosopher Adam +Müller and the well-known romantic authors Arnim, Brentano, and +Fouqué, he published a politico-literary journal appearing five times +a week. The enterprise began well, and aroused a great deal of +interest. Gradually, however, the censorship of a government that was +at once timid and tyrannical limited the scope and destroyed the +effectiveness of the paper, and Kleist spent himself in vain efforts +to keep it alive. The poet now found himself in a desperate +predicament, financially ruined by the failure of all his enterprises, +and discredited with the government, from which he vainly sought some +reparation for the violence done to his journal; worst of all, he +found himself without honor at home, where he was looked upon as a +ne'er-do-well and a disgrace to the reputation of a fine old military +family. As a last resort he applied for reinstatement in the army, it +being a time when Prussia seemed to be girding herself for another +struggle with Napoleon. But the attempt to borrow enough money for his +military equipment failed, and he found no sympathy or support on a +final visit to his family in Frankfort. In October, 1811, the +patriotic men who had been quietly preparing for the inevitable war of +liberation were horrified by the movement of the Prussian government +toward another alliance with Napoleon; and Kleist felt it impossible +to enter an army that might at any moment be ordered to support the +arch-enemy of his country. His case had become utterly hopeless. + +At this juncture the unfortunate poet found what he had so often +sought in his crises of despair--a companion in suicide. Through Adam +Müller he had become acquainted with Henrietta Vogel, an intelligent +woman of romantic temperament, who was doomed by an incurable disease +to a life of suffering. She listened eagerly to Kleist's suggestions +of an escape together from the intolerable ills of life. The two drove +from Berlin to a solitary inn on the shore of the Wannsee, near +Potsdam; here Kleist wrote a touching farewell letter to his sister, +and, on the afternoon of November 21, 1811, after the most deliberate +preparations, the companions strolled into the silent pine woods, +where Kleist took Henrietta's life and then his own. In the same +lonely place his grave was dug, and here the greatest Prussian poet +lay forgotten, after the brief, though violent, sensation of his +tragic end; half a century elapsed before a Prussian prince set up a +simple granite monument to mark the grave. Ten years passed after +Kleist's death before his last great dramas, _Arminius_ and the +_Prince of Homburg_, were published, edited by the eminent poet and +critic Ludwig Tieck, who also brought out, in 1826, the first +collection of Kleist's works. Long before this time, the patriotic +uprising for which he had labored with desperate zeal in his later +works, had brought liberation to Germany; it was on the thirty-sixth +anniversary of Kleist's birth that Napoleon's power was shaken by the +decisive Battle of Leipzig. + +Heinrich von Kleist was born into a generation that was dominated by +the spirit of Romanticism. Tieck and the Schlegels were a few years +older, Fouqué was of the same age as he, and Arnim and Brentano +somewhat younger. His acquaintance was largely with the authors who +represented this tendency. In his own works, however, Kleist was +singularly independent of the romantic influence. This is the more +remarkable inasmuch as his character had many traits in common with +the ardent spirits of the Romantic group. His uncompromising +individualism and overweening ambition, his love of travel, his +enthusiastic acceptance of Rousseau's gospel of Nature, are +characteristically Romantic, and so, we may say, is his passionate +patriotism. Eccentricities he had in plenty; there was something +morbid in his excessive reserve, his exaggerated secretiveness about +the most important interests of his life, as there surely was in his +moroseness, which deepened at times into black despair. Goethe was +most unpleasantly impressed by this abnormal quality of Kleist's +personality, and said of the younger poet: "In spite of my honest +desire to sympathize with him, I could not avoid a feeling of horror +and loathing, as of a body beautifully endowed by nature, but infected +with an incurable disease." That this judgment was unduly harsh is +evident enough from the confidence and affection that Kleist inspired +in many of the best men of his time. + +Whatever may have been Kleist's personal peculiarities, his works give +evidence of the finest artistic sanity and conscience. His acute sense +of literary form sets him off from the whole generation of +Romanticists, who held the author's personal caprice to be the supreme +law of poetry, and most of whose important works were either medleys +or fragments. He was his own severest critic, and labored over his +productions, as he did over his own education, with untiring energy +and intense concentration. A less scrupulous author would not have +destroyed the manuscript of _Robert Guiscard_ because he could not +keep throughout its action the splendid promise of the first act. His +works are usually marked by rare logical and artistic consistency. +Seldom is there any interruption of the unity and simple directness of +his actions by sub-plots or episodes, and he scorned the easy +theatrical devices by which the successful playwrights of his day +gained their effects. Whether in drama or story, his action grows +naturally out of the characters and the situations. Hence the +marvelous fact that his dramas can be performed with hardly an +alteration, though the author, never having seen any of them on the +stage, lacked the practical experience by which most dramatists learn +the technique of their art. + +Kleist evidently studied the models of classical art with care. His +unerring sense of form, his artistic restraint in a day when caprice +was the ruling fashion, and the conciseness of his expression, are +doubtless due to classical influence. But, at the same time, he was an +innovator, one of the first forerunners of modern realism. He +describes and characterizes with careful, often microscopic detail; +his psychological analysis is remarkably exact and incisive; and he +fearlessly uses the ugly or the trivial when either better serves his +purpose. + +In all the varied volume of Kleist's works, there is very little that +is mediocre or negligible. The _Schroffenstein Family_, to be sure, is +prentice work, but it can bear comparison with the first plays of the +greatest dramatists. The fragment of _Robert Guiscard_ is masterly in +its rapid cumulative exposition, representing the hero, idolized by +his troops, as stricken with the plague when the crowning glory of his +military career seems to be within his grasp; while the discord +between Guiscard's son and nephew presages an irrepressible family +conflict. The style, as Wieland felt when he listened with rapture to +the author's recital, is a blend of classical and Elizabethan art. The +opening chorus of the people, the formal balanced speeches, the +analytical action, beginning on the verge of the catastrophe, are +traits borrowed from Greek tragedy. On the other hand, there is much +realistic characterization and a Shakespearian variety and freedom of +tone. _The Broken Jug_, too, is analytical in its conduct. Almost from +the first it is evident that Adam, the village judge, is himself the +culprit in the case at trial in his court, and the comic efforts of +the arch-rascal to squirm out of the inevitable discovery only serve +to make his guilt the surer. In this comedy the blank verse adapts +itself to all the turns of familiar humorous dialogue, and the effect +of the Dutch genre-paintings of Teniers or Jan Steen is admirably +reproduced in dramatic form. The slowly moving action, constantly +reverting to past incidents, makes a successful performance difficult; +the fate of this work on the stage has depended upon finding an actor +capable of bringing out all the possibilities in the part of Adam, who +is a masterpiece of comic self-characterization. + +_Penthesilea_ is a work apart. Passionate, headlong, almost savage, is +the character of the queen of the Amazons, yet wonderfully sweet in +its gentler moods and glorified with the golden glow of high poetry. +Nothing could be further removed from the pseudo-classical manner of +the eighteenth century than this modern and individual interpretation +of the old mythical story of Penthesilea and Achilles, between whom +love breaks forth in the midst of mortal combat. The clash of passions +creates scenes in this drama that transcend the humanly and +dramatically permissible. Yet there is a wealth of imaginative beauty +and emotional melody in this tragedy beyond anything in Kleist's other +works. It was written with his heart's blood; in it he uttered all the +yearning and frenzy of his first passion for the unattainable and +ruined masterpiece _Guiscard_. + +_Kitty of Heilbronn_ stands almost at the opposite pole from +_Penthesilea_. The pathos of Griselda's unquestioning self-abnegation +is her portion; she is the extreme expression of the docile quality +that Kleist sought in his betrothed. Instead of the fabled scenes of +Homeric combat, we have here as a setting the richly romantic and +colorful life of the age of chivalry. The form, too, is far freer and +more expansive, with an unconventional mingling of verse and prose. + +The last two plays were born of the spirit that brought forth the War +of Liberation. In them Kleist gave undying expression to his ardent +patriotism; it was his deepest grief that these martial dramas were +not permitted to sound their trumpet-call to a humbled nation yearning +to be free. _Arminius_ is a great dramatized philippic. The ancient +Germanic chiefs Marbod and Arminius, representing in Kleist's +intention the Austria and Prussia of his day, are animated by one +common patriotic impulse, rising far above their mutual rivalries, to +cast off the hateful and oppressive yoke of Rome; and after the +decisive victory over Varus in the Teutoburg Forest, each of these +strong chiefs is ready in devoted self-denial to yield the primacy to +the other, in order that all Germans may stand together against the +common foe. _Prince Frederick of Homburg_ is a dramatic glorification +of the Prussian virtues of discipline and obedience. But the finely +drawn characters of this play are by no means rigid martinets. They +are largely, frankly, generously human, confessing the right of +feeling as well as reason to direct the will. Never has there been a +more sympathetic literary exposition of the soldierly character than +this last tribute of a devoted patriot to his beloved Brandenburg. + +The narrative works of Kleist maintain the same high level as his +dramas. _Michael Kohlhaas_ is a good example of this excellent +narrative art, for which Kleist found no models in German literature. +Unity is a striking characteristic; the action can usually be summed +up in a few words, such as the formula for this story, given expressly +on its first page: "His sense of justice made him a robber and a +murderer." There is no leisurely exposition of time, place, or +situation; all the necessary elements are given concisely in the first +sentences. The action develops logically, with effective use of +retardation and climax, but without disturbing episodes; and the +reader is never permitted to forget the central theme. The descriptive +element is realistic, with only pertinent details swiftly presented, +often in parentheses, while the action moves on. The characterization +is skilfully indirect, through unconscious action and speech. The +author does not shun the trivial or even the repulsive in detail, nor +does he fear the most tragic catastrophes. He is scrupulously +objective, and, in an age of expansive lyric expression, he is most +chary of comment. The sentence structure, as in the dramas, is often +intricate, but never lax. The whole work in all its parts is firmly +and finely forged by a master workman. + +Kleist has remained a solitary figure in German literature. Owing +little to the dominant literary influences of his day, he has also +found few imitators. Two generations passed before he began to come +into his heritage of legitimate fame. Now that a full century has +elapsed since his tragic death, his place is well assured among the +greatest dramatic and narrative authors of Germany. A brave man +struggling desperately against hopeless odds, a patriot expending his +genius with lavish unselfishness for the service of his country in her +darkest days, he has been found worthy by posterity to stand as the +most famous son of a faithful Prussian family of soldiers. + + + + +MICHAEL KOHLHAAS (1808) + +A Tale from an Old Chronicle + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES A. KING + + +Toward the middle of the sixteenth century there lived on the banks of +the river Havel a horse-dealer by the name of Michael Kohlhaas, the +son of a school-master, one of the most upright and, at the same time, +one of the most terrible men of his day. Up to his thirtieth year this +extraordinary man would have been considered the model of a good +citizen. In a village which still bears his name, he owned a farmstead +on which he quietly supported himself by plying his trade. The +children with whom his wife presented him were brought up in the fear +of God, and taught to be industrious and honest; nor was there one +among his neighbors who had not enjoyed the benefit of his kindness or +his justice. In short, the world would have had every reason to bless +his memory if he had not carried to excess one virtue--his sense of +justice, which made of him a robber and a murderer. + +He rode abroad once with a string of young horses, all well fed and +glossy-coated, and was turning over in his mind how he would employ +the profit that he hoped to make from them at the fairs; part of it, +as is the way with good managers, he would use to gain future profits, +but he would also spend part of it in the enjoyment of the present. +While thus engaged he reached the Elbe, and near a stately castle, +situated on Saxon territory, he came upon a toll-bar which he had +never found on this road before. Just in the midst of a heavy shower +he halted with his horses and called to the toll-gate keeper, who +soon after showed his surly face at the window. The horse-dealer told +him to open the gate. "What new arrangement is this?" he asked, when +the toll-gatherer, after some time, finally came out of the house. + +"Seignorial privilege" answered the latter, unlocking the gate, +"conferred by the sovereign upon Squire Wenzel Tronka." + +"Is that so?" queried Kohlhaas; "the Squire's name is now Wenzel?" and +gazed at the castle, the glittering battlements of which looked out +over the field. "Is the old gentleman dead?" + +"Died of apoplexy," answered the gate keeper, as he raised the +toll-bar. + +"Hum! Too bad!" rejoined Kohlhaas. "An estimable old gentleman he was, +who liked to watch people come and go, and helped along trade and +traffic wherever he could. He once had a causeway built because a mare +of mine had broken her leg out there on the road leading to the +village. Well, how much is it?" he asked, and with some trouble got +out the few groschen demanded by the gate keeper from under his cloak, +which was fluttering in the wind. "Yes, old man," he added, picking up +the leading reins as the latter muttered "Quick, quick!" and cursed +the weather; "if this tree had remained standing in the forest it +would have been better for me and for you." With this he gave him the +money, and started to ride on. + +He had hardly passed under the toll-bar, however, when a new voice +cried out from the tower behind him, "Stop there, horse-dealer!" and +he saw the castellan close a window and come hurrying down to him. +"Well, I wonder what he wants!" Kohlhaas asked himself, and halted +with his horses. Buttoning another waistcoat over his ample body, the +castellan came up to him and, standing with his back to the storm, +demanded his passport. + +"My passport?" queried Kohlhaas. Somewhat disconcerted, he replied +that he had none, so far as he knew, but that, if some one would just +describe to him what in the name of goodness this was, perhaps he +might accidentally happen to have one about him. The castellan, eying +him askance, retorted that without an official permit no horse-dealer +was allowed to cross the border with horses. The horse-dealer assured +him that seventeen times in his life he had crossed the border without +such a permit; that he was well acquainted with all the official +regulations which applied to his trade; that this would probably prove +to be only a mistake; the castellan would please consider the matter +and, since he had a long day's journey before him, not detain him here +unnecessarily any longer. But the castellan answered that he was not +going to slip through the eighteenth time, that the ordinance +concerning this matter had been only recently issued, and that he must +either procure the passport here or go back to the place from which he +had come. After a moment's reflection, the horse-dealer, who was +beginning to feel bitter, got down from his horse, turned it over to a +groom, and said that he would speak to Squire Tronka himself on the +subject. He really did walk toward the castle; the castellan followed +him, muttering something about niggardly money-grubbers, and what a +good thing it was to bleed them; and, measuring each other with their +glances, the two entered the castle-hall. + +It happened that the Squire was sitting over his wine with some merry +friends, and a joke had caused them all to break into uproarious +laughter just as Kohlhaas approached him to make his complaint. The +Squire asked what he wanted; the young nobles, at sight of the +stranger, became silent; but no sooner had the latter broached his +request concerning the horses, than the whole group cried out, +"Horses! Where are they?" and hurried over to the window to look at +them. When they saw the glossy string, they all followed the +suggestion of the Squire and flew down into the courtyard. The rain +had ceased; the castellan, the steward, and the servant gathered round +them and all scanned the horses. One praised a bright bay with a +white star on its forehead, another preferred a chestnut, a third +patted the dappled horse with tawny spots; and all were of the opinion +that the horses were like deer, and that no finer were raised in the +country. Kohlhaas answered cheerily that the horses were no better +than the knights who were to ride them, and invited the men to buy. +The Squire, who eagerly desired the big bay stallion, went so far as +to ask its price, and the steward urged him to buy a pair of black +horses, which he thought he could use on the farm, as they were short +of horses. But when the horse-dealer had named his price the young +knights thought it too high, and the Squire said that Kohlhaas would +have to ride in search of the Round Table and King Arthur if he put +such a high value on his horses. Kohlhaas noticed that the castellan +and the steward were whispering together and casting significant +glances at the black horses the while, and, moved by a vague +presentiment, made every effort to sell them the horses. He said to +the Squire, "Sir, I bought those black horses six months ago for +twenty-five gold gulden; give me thirty and you shall have them." Two +of the young noblemen who were standing beside the Squire declared +quite audibly that the horses were probably worth that much; but the +Squire said that while he might be willing to pay out money for the +bay stallion he really should hardly care to do so for the pair of +blacks, and prepared to go in. Whereupon Kohlhaas, saying that the +next time he came that way with his horses they might perhaps strike a +bargain, took leave of the Squire and, seizing the reins of his horse, +started to ride away. + +At this moment the castellan stepped forth from the crowd and reminded +him that he would not be allowed to leave without a passport. Kohlhaas +turned around and inquired of the Squire whether this statement, which +meant the ruin of his whole trade, were indeed correct. The Squire, as +he went off, answered with an embarrassed air, "Yes, Kohlhaas, you +must get a passport. Speak to the castellan about it, and go your +way." Kohlhaas assured him that he had not the least intention of +evading the ordinances which might be in force concerning the +exportation of horses. He promised that when he went through Dresden +he would take out the passport at the chancery, and begged to be +allowed to go on, this time, as he had known nothing whatever about +this requirement. "Well!" said the Squire, as the storm at that moment +began to rage again and the wind blustered about his scrawny legs; +"let the wretch go. Come!" he added to the young knights, and, turning +around, started toward the door. The castellan, facing about toward +the Squire, said that Kohlhaas must at least leave behind some pledge +as security that he would obtain the passport. The Squire stopped +again under the castle gate. Kohlhaas asked how much security for the +black horses in money or in articles of value he would be expected to +leave. The steward muttered in his beard that he might just as well +leave the blacks themselves. + +"To be sure," said the castellan; "that is the best plan; as soon as +he has taken out the passport he can come and get them again at any +time." Kohlhaas, amazed at such a shameless demand, told the Squire, +who was holding the skirts of his doublet about him for warmth, that +what he wanted to do was to sell the blacks; but as a gust of wind +just then blew a torrent of rain and hail through the gate, the +Squire, in order to put an end to the matter, called out, "If he won't +give up the horses, throw him back again over the toll-bar;" and with +that he went off. + +The horse-dealer, who saw clearly that on this occasion he would have +to yield to superior force, made up his mind to comply with the +demand, since there really was no other way out of it. He unhitched +the black horses and led them into a stable which the castellan +pointed out to him. He left a groom in charge of them, provided him +with money, warned him to take good care of the horses until he came +back, and with the rest of the string continued his journey to +Leipzig, where he purposed to go to the fair. As he rode along he +wondered, in half uncertainty, whether after all such a law might not +have been passed in Saxony for the protection of the newly started +industry of horse-raising. + +On his arrival in Dresden, where, in one of the suburbs of the city, +he owned a house and stable--this being the headquarters from which he +usually conducted his business at the smaller fairs around the +country--he went immediately to the chancery. And here he learned from +the councilors, some of whom he knew, that indeed, as his first +instinct had already told him, the story of the passport was only made +up. At Kohlhaas's request, the annoyed councilors gave him a written +certificate of its baselessness, and the horse-dealer smiled at the +lean Squire's joke, although he did not quite see what purpose he +could have had in view. A few weeks later, having sold to his +satisfaction the string of horses he had with him, Kohlhaas returned +to Tronka Castle harboring no other resentment save that caused by the +general misery of the world. + +The castellan, to whom he showed the certificate, made no comment upon +it, and to the horse-dealer's question as to whether he could now have +his horses back, replied that he need only go down to the stable and +get them. But even while crossing the courtyard, Kohlhaas learned with +dismay that for alleged insolence his groom had been cudgeled and +dismissed in disgrace a few days after being left behind at Tronka +Castle. Of the boy who informed him of this he inquired what in the +world the groom had done, and who had taken care of the horses in the +mean time; to this the boy answered that he did not know, and then +opened to the horse-dealer, whose heart was already full of +misgivings, the door of the stable in which the horses stood. How +great, though, was his astonishment when, instead of his two glossy, +well-fed blacks, he spied a pair of lean, worn-out jades, with bones +on which one could have hung things as if on pegs, and with mane and +hair matted together from lack of care and attention--in short, the +very picture of utter misery in the animal kingdom! Kohlhaas, at the +sight of whom the horses neighed and moved feebly, was extremely +indignant, and asked what had happened to his horses. The boy, who was +standing beside him, answered that they had not suffered any harm, and +that they had had proper feed too, but, as it had been harvest time, +they had been used a bit in the fields because there weren't draught +animals enough. Kohlhaas cursed over the shameful, preconcerted +outrage; but realizing that he was powerless he suppressed his rage, +and, as no other course lay open to him, was preparing to leave this +den of thieves again with his horses when the castellan, attracted by +the altercation, appeared and asked what was the matter. + +"What's the matter?" echoed Kohlhaas. "Who gave Squire Tronka and his +people permission to use for work in the fields the black horses that +I left behind with him?" He added, "Do you call that humane?" and +trying to rouse the exhausted nags with a switch, he showed him that +they did not move. The castellan, after he had watched him for a while +with an expression of defiance, broke out, "Look at the ruffian! Ought +not the churl to thank God that the jades are still alive?" He asked +who would have been expected to take care of them when the groom had +run away, and whether it were not just that the horses should have +worked in the fields for their feed. He concluded by saying that +Kohlhaas had better not make a rumpus or he would call the dogs and +with them would manage to restore order in the courtyard. + +The horse-dealer's heart thumped against his doublet. He felt a strong +desire to throw the good-for-nothing, pot-bellied scoundrel into the +mud and set his foot on his copper-colored face. But his sense of +justice, which was as delicate as a gold-balance, still wavered; he +was not yet quite sure before the bar of his own conscience whether +his adversary were really guilty of a crime. And so, swallowing the +abusive words and going over to the horses, he silently pondered the +circumstances while arranging their manes, and asked in a subdued +voice for what fault the groom had been turned out of the castle. The +castellan replied, "Because the rascal was insolent in the courtyard; +because he opposed a necessary change of stables and demanded that the +horses of two young noblemen, who came to the castle, should, for the +sake of his nags, be left out on the open high-road over night." + +Kohlhaas would have given the value of the horses if he could have had +the groom at hand to compare his statement with that of this +thick-lipped castellan. He was still standing, straightening the +tangled manes of the black horses, and wondering what could be done in +the situation in which he found himself, when suddenly the scene +changed, and Squire Wenzel Tronka, returning from hare-hunting, dashed +into the courtyard, followed by a swarm of knights, grooms, and dogs. +The castellan, when asked what had happened, immediately began to +speak, and while, on the one hand, the dogs set up a murderous howl at +the sight of the stranger, and, on the other, the knights sought to +quiet them, he gave the Squire a maliciously garbled account of the +turmoil the horse-dealer was making because his black horses had been +used a little. He said, with a scornful laugh, that the horse-dealer +refused to recognize the horses as his own. + +Kohlhaas cried, "Your worship, those are not my horses. Those are not +the horses which were worth thirty gold gulden! I want my well-fed, +sound horses back again!" + +The Squire, whose face grew momentarily pale, got down from his horse +and said, "If the d----d scoundrel doesn't want to take the horses +back, let him leave them here. Come, Gunther!" he called; "Hans, +come!" He brushed the dust off his breeches with his hand and, just as +he reached the door with the young knights, called "Bring wine!" and +strode into the house. + +Kohlhaas said that he would rather call the knacker and have his +horses thrown into the carrion pit than lead them back, in that +condition, to his stable at Kohlhaasenbrück. Without bothering himself +further about the nags, he left them standing where they were, and, +declaring that he should know how to get his rights, mounted his bay +horse and rode away. + +He was already galloping at full speed on the road to Dresden when, at +the thought of the groom and of the complaint which had been made +against him at the castle, he slowed down to a walk, and, before he +had gone a thousand paces farther, turned his horse around again and +took the road toward Kohlhaasenbrück, in order, as seemed to him wise +and just, to hear first what the groom had to say. For in spite of the +injuries he had suffered, a correct instinct, already familiar with +the imperfect organization of the world, inclined him to put up with +the loss of the horses and to regard it as a just consequence of the +groom's misconduct in case there really could be imputed to the latter +any such fault as the castellan charged. On the other hand, an equally +admirable feeling took deeper and deeper root the farther he rode, +hearing at every stop of the outrages perpetrated daily upon travelers +at Tronka Castle; this instinct told him that if, as seemed probable, +the whole incident proved to be a preconcerted plot, it was his duty +to the world to make every effort to obtain for himself satisfaction +for the injury suffered, and for his fellow-countrymen a guarantee +against similar injuries in the future. + +On his arrival at Kohlhaasenbrück, as soon as he had embraced his +faithful wife Lisbeth and had kissed his children, who were shouting +joyfully about his knees, he asked at once after Herse, the head +groom, and whether anything had been heard from him. Lisbeth answered, +"Oh yes, dearest Michael--that Herse! Just think! The poor fellow +arrived here about a fortnight ago, most pitifully bruised and beaten; +really, he was so battered that he couldn't even breathe freely. We +put him to bed, where he kept coughing up blood, and after repeated +questions we heard a story that no one could understand. He told us +that you had left him at Tronka Castle in charge of some horses which +they would not allow to pass through there, that by the most shameful +maltreatment he had been forced to leave the castle, and that it had +been impossible for him to bring the horses with him." + +"Really!" exclaimed Kohlhaas, taking off his cloak. "I suppose he has +recovered before this?" + +"Pretty well, except that he still coughs blood," she answered. "I +wanted to send another groom at once to Tronka Castle so as to have +the horses taken care of until you got back there; for as Herse has +always shown himself truthful and, indeed, more faithful to us than +any other has ever been, I felt I had no right to doubt his statement, +especially when confirmed by so many bruises, or to think that perhaps +he had lost the horses in some other way. He implored me, however, not +to require any one to go to that robber's nest, but to give the +animals up if I didn't wish to sacrifice a man's life for them." + +"And is he still abed?" asked Kohlhaas, taking off his neckcloth. + +"He's been going about in the yard again for several days now," she +answered. "In short, you will see for yourself," she continued, "that +it's all quite true and that this incident is merely another one of +those outrages that have been committed of late against strangers at +Tronka Castle." + +"I must first investigate that," answered Kohlhaas. "Call him in here, +Lisbeth, if he is up and about." With these words he sat down in the +arm-chair and his wife, delighted at his calmness, went and fetched +the groom. + +"What did you do at Tronka Castle," asked Kohlhaas, as Lisbeth entered +the room with him. "I am not very well pleased with you." + +On the groom's pale face spots of red appeared at these words. He was +silent for a while--then he answered, "You are right there, Sir; for a +sulphur cord, which by the will of Providence I was carrying in my +pocket so as to set fire to the robber's nest from which I had been +driven, I threw into the Elbe when I heard a child crying inside the +castle, and I thought to myself, 'Let God's lightning burn it down; I +will not!'" + +Kohlhaas was disconcerted. "But for what cause were you driven from +the castle?" he asked. + +To this Herse answered, "Something very wrong, Sir," and wiped the +perspiration from his forehead. "What is done, however, can't be +undone. I wouldn't let the horses be worked to death in the fields, +and so I said that they were still young and had never been in +harness." + +Kohlhaas, trying to hide his perplexity, answered that he had not told +the exact truth, as the horses had been in harness for a little while +in the early part of the previous spring. "As you were a sort of guest +at the castle," he continued, "you really might have been obliging +once or twice whenever they happened not to have horses enough to get +the crops in as fast as they wished." + +"I did so, Sir," said Herse. "I thought, as long as they looked so +sulky about it, that it wouldn't hurt the blacks for once, and so on +the third afternoon I hitched them in front of the others and brought +in three wagon-loads of grain from the fields." + +Kohlhaas, whose heart was thumping, looked down at the ground and +said, "They told me nothing about that, Herse!" + +Herse assured him that it was so. "I wasn't disobliging save in my +refusal to harness up the horses again when they had hardly eaten +their fill at midday; then too, when the castellan and the steward +offered to give me free fodder if I would do it, telling me to pocket +the money that you had left with me to pay for feed, I answered that I +would do something they didn't bargain for, turned around, and left +them!" + +"But surely it was not for that disobliging act that you were driven +away from the castle," said Kohlhaas. + +"Mercy, no!" cried the groom. "It was because of a very wicked crime! +For the horses of two knights who came to the castle were put into +the stable for the night and mine were tied to the stable door. And +when I took the blacks from the castellan, who was putting the +knights' horses into my stable, and asked where my animals were to go, +he showed me a pigsty built of laths and boards against the castle +wall." + +"You mean," interrupted Kohlhaas, "that it was such a poor shelter for +horses that it was more like a pigsty than a stable?" + +"It was a pigsty, Sir," answered Herse; "really and truly a pigsty, +with the pigs running in and out; I couldn't stand upright in it." + +"Perhaps there was no other shelter to be found for the blacks," +Kohlhaas rejoined; "and of course, in a way, the knights' horses had +the right to better quarters." + +"There wasn't much room," answered the groom, dropping his voice. +"Counting these two, there were, in all, seven knights lodging at the +castle. If it had been you, you would have had the horses moved closer +together. I said I would try to rent a stable in the village, but the +castellan objected that he had to keep the horses under his own eyes +and told me not to dare to take them away from the courtyard." + +"Hum!" said Kohlhaas. "What did you say to that?" + +"As the steward said the two guests were only going to spend the night +and continue on their way the next morning, I led the two horses into +the pigsty. But the following day passed and they did not go, and on +the third it was said the gentlemen were going to stay some weeks +longer at the castle." + +"After all, it was not so bad, Herse, in the pigsty, as it seemed to +you when you first stuck your nose into it," said Kohlhaas. + +"That's true," answered the groom. "After I had swept the place out a +little, it wasn't so bad! I gave a groschen to the maid to have her +put the pigs somewhere else; and by taking the boards from the +roof-bars at dawn and laying them on again at night, I managed to +arrange it so that the horses could stand upright in the daytime. So +there they stood like geese in a coop, and stuck their heads through +the roof, looking around for Kohlhaasenbrück or some other place where +they would be better off." + +"Well then," said Kohlhaas, "why in the world did they drive you +away?" + +"Sir, I'll tell you," answered the groom, "it was because they wanted +to get rid of me, since, as long as I was there, they could not work +the horses to death. Everywhere, in the yard, in the servants' hall, +they made faces at me, and because I thought to myself, 'You can draw +your jaws down until you dislocate them, for all I care,' they picked +a quarrel and threw me out of the courtyard." + +"But what provoked them?" cried Kohlhaas; "they must have had some +sort of provocation!" + +"Oh, to be sure," answered Herse; "the best imaginable! On the evening +of the second day spent in the pigsty, I took the horses, which had +become dirty in spite of my efforts, and started to ride them down to +the horse-pond. When I reached the castle-gate and was just about to +turn, I heard the castellan and the steward, with servants, dogs and +cudgels, rushing out of the servants' hall after me and calling, 'Stop +thief! Stop gallows-bird!' as if they were possessed. The gate-keeper +stepped in front of me, and when I asked him and the raving crowd that +was running at me, 'What in the world is the matter?'--'What's the +matter!' answered the castellan, seizing my two black horses by the +bridle. 'Where are you going with the horses?' he asked, and seized me +by the chest. 'Where am I going?' I repeated. 'Thunder and lightning! +I am riding down to the horse-pond. Do you think that I--?'--'To the +horse-pond!' cried the castellan. 'I'll teach you, you swindler, to +swim along the highroad back to Kohlhaasenbrück!' And with a spiteful, +vicious jerk he and the steward, who had caught me by the leg, hurled +me down from the horse so that I measured my full length in the mud. +'Murder! Help!' I cried; 'breast straps and blankets and a bundle of +linen belonging to me are in the stable.' But while the steward led +the horses away, the castellan and servants fell upon me with their +feet and whips and cudgels, so that I sank down behind the castle-gate +half dead. And when I cried, 'The thieves! Where are they taking my +horses?' and got to my feet--'Out of the courtyard with you!' screamed +the castellan, 'Sick him, Caesar! Sick him, Hunter!' and, 'Sick him, +Spitz!' he called, and a pack of more than twelve dogs rushed at me. +Then I tore something from the fence, possibly a picket, and stretched +out three dogs dead beside me! But when I had to give way because I +was suffering from fearful wounds and bites, I heard a shrill whistle; +the dogs scurried into the yard, the gates were swung shut and the +bolt shot into position, and I sank down on the highroad unconscious." + +Kohlhaas, white in the face, said with forced jocularity, "Didn't you +really want to escape, Herse?" And as the latter, with a deep blush, +looked down at the ground--"Confess to me!" said he; "You didn't like +it in the pigsty; you thought to yourself, you would rather be in the +stable at Kohlhaasenbrück, after all!" + +"Od's thunder!" cried Herse; "breast strap and blankets I tell you, +and a bundle of linen I left behind in the pigsty. Wouldn't I have +taken along three gold gulden that I had wrapped in a red silk +neckcloth and hidden away behind the manger? Blazes, hell, and the +devil! When you talk like that, I'd like to relight at once the +sulphur cord I threw away!" + +"There, there!" said the horse-dealer, "I really meant no harm. What +you have said--see here, I believe it word for word, and when the +matter comes up, I am ready to take the Holy Communion myself as to +its truth. I am sorry that you have not fared better in my service. +Go, Herse, go back to bed. Have them bring you a bottle of wine and +make yourself comfortable; you shall have justice done you!" With +that he stood up, made out a list of the things which the head groom +had left behind in the pigsty, jotted down the value of each, asked +him how high he estimated the cost of his medical treatment, and sent +him from the room after shaking hands with him once more. + +Thereupon he recounted to Lisbeth, his wife, the whole course of the +affair, explained the true relation of events, and declared to her +that he was determined to demand public justice for himself. He had +the satisfaction of finding that she heartily approved his purpose, +for, she said, many other travelers, perhaps less patient than he, +would pass by the castle, and it was doing God's work to put a stop to +disorders such as these. She added that she would manage to get +together the money to pay the expenses of the lawsuit. Kohlhaas called +her his brave wife, spent that day and the next very happily with her +and the children, and, as soon as his business would at all permit it, +set out for Dresden in order to lay his suit before the court. + +Here, with the help of a lawyer whom he knew, he drew up a complaint, +in which, after giving a detailed account of the outrage which Squire +Wenzel Tronka had committed against him and against his groom Herse, +he petitioned for the lawful punishment of the former, restoration of +the horses to their original condition, and compensation for the +damages which he and his groom had sustained. His case was indeed +perfectly clear. The fact that the horses had been detained contrary +to law threw a decisive light on everything else; and even had one +been willing to assume that they had sickened by sheer accident, the +demand of the horse-dealer to have them returned to him in sound +condition would still have been just. While looking about him in the +capital, Kohlhaas had no lack of friends, either, who promised to give +his case lively support. His extensive trade in horses had secured him +the acquaintance of the most important men of the country, and the +honesty with which he conducted his business had won him their good +will. + +Kohlhaas dined cheerfully several times with his lawyer, who was +himself a man of consequence, left a sum of money with him to defray +the costs of the lawsuit and, fully reassured by the latter as to the +outcome of the case, returned, after the lapse of some weeks, to his +wife Lisbeth in Kohlhaasenbrück. + +Nevertheless months passed, and the year was nearing its close before +he received even a statement from Saxony concerning the suit which he +had instituted there, let alone the final decree itself. After he had +applied several times more to the court, he sent a confidential letter +to his lawyer asking what was the cause of such undue delay. He was +told in reply that the suit had been dismissed in the Dresden courts +at the instance of an influential person. To the astonished reply of +the horse-dealer asking what was the reason of this, the lawyer +informed him that Squire Wenzel Tronka was related to two young +noblemen, Hinz and Kunz Tronka, one of whom was Cup-bearer to the +person of the sovereign, and the other actually Chamberlain. He also +advised Kohlhaas not to make any further appeal to the court of law, +but to try to regain possession of his horses which were still at +Tronka Castle, giving him to understand that the Squire, who was then +stopping in the capital, seemed to have ordered his people to deliver +them to him. He closed with a request to excuse him from executing any +further commissions in the matter, in case Kohlhaas refused to be +content with this. + +At this time Kohlhaas happened to be in Brandenburg, where the City +Governor, Heinrich von Geusau, to whose jurisdiction Kohlhaasenbrück +belonged, was busy establishing several charitable institutions for +the sick and the poor out of a considerable fund which had fallen to +the city. He was especially interested in fitting up, for the benefit +of invalids, a mineral spring which rose in one of the villages in the +vicinity, and which was thought to have greater powers than it +subsequently proved to possess. As Kohlhaas had had numerous dealings +with him at the time of his sojourn at Court and was therefore known +to him, he allowed Herse, the head groom, who, ever since that unlucky +day in Tronka Castle, had suffered pains in the chest when he +breathed, to try the effect of the little healing spring, which had +been inclosed and roofed over. + +It so happened that the City Governor was just giving some directions, +as he stood beside the depression in which Kohlhaas had placed Herse, +when a messenger, whom the horse-dealer's wife had sent on after him, +put in his hands the disheartening letter from his lawyer in Dresden. +The City Governor, who, while speaking with the doctor, noticed that +Kohlhaas let a tear fall on the letter he had just read, approached +him and, in a friendly, cordial way, asked him what misfortune had +befallen him. The horse-dealer handed him the letter without +answering. The worthy Governor, knowing the abominable injustice done +him at Tronka Castle as a result of which Herse was lying there before +him sick, perhaps never to recover, clapped Kohlhaas on the shoulder +and told him not to lose courage, for he would help him secure +justice. In the evening, when the horse-dealer, acting upon his +orders, came to the palace to see him, Kohlhaas was told that what he +should do was to draw up a petition to the Elector of Brandenburg, +with a short account of the incident, to inclose the lawyer's letter, +and, on account of the violence which had been committed against him +on Saxon territory, solicit the protection of the sovereign. He +promised him to see that the petition would be delivered into the +hands of the Elector together with another packet that was all ready +to be dispatched; if circumstances permitted, the latter would, +without fail, approach the Elector of Saxony on his behalf. Such a +step would be quite sufficient to secure Kohlhaas justice at the hand +of the tribunal at Dresden, in spite of the arts of the Squire and his +partisans. Kohlhaas, much delighted, thanked the Governor very +heartily for this new proof of his good will, and said he was only +sorry that he had not instituted proceedings at once in Berlin without +taking any steps in the matter at Dresden. After he had made out the +complaint in due form at the office of the municipal court and +delivered it to the Governor, he returned to Kohlhaasenbrück, more +encouraged than ever about the outcome of his affair. + +After only a few weeks, however, he was grieved to learn from a +magistrate who had gone to Potsdam on business for the City Governor, +that the Elector had handed the petition over to his Chancellor, Count +Kallheim, and that the latter, instead of taking the course most +likely to produce results and petitioning the Court at Dresden +directly for investigation and punishment of the outrage, had, as a +preliminary, applied to the Squire Tronka for further information. + +The magistrate, who had stopped in his carriage outside of Kohlhaas' +house and seemed to have been instructed to deliver this message to +the horse-dealer, could give the latter no satisfactory answer to his +perplexed question as to why this step had been taken. He was +apparently in a hurry to continue his journey, and merely added that +the Governor sent Kohhlhaas word to be patient. Not until the very end +of the short interview did the horse-dealer divine from some casual +words he let fall, that Count Kallheim was related by marriage to the +house of Tronka. + +Kohlhaas, who no longer took any pleasure either in his +horse-breeding, or his house or his farm, scarcely even in his wife +and children, waited all the next month, full of gloomy forebodings as +to the future. And, just as he had expected at the expiration of this +time, Herse, somewhat benefited by the baths, came back from +Brandenburg bringing a rather lengthy decree and a letter from the +City Governor. The latter ran as follows: He was sorry that he could +do nothing in Kohlhaas' behalf; he was sending him a decision from the +Chancery of State and he advised him to fetch away the horses that he +had left behind at the Tronka Castle, and then to let the matter drop. + +The decree read as follows: "According to the report of the tribunal +at Dresden, he was a good-for-nothing, quarrelsome person; the Squire +with whom he had left the horses was not keeping them from him in any +way; let him send to the castle and take them away, or at least inform +the Squire where to send them to him; in any case he should not +trouble the Chancery of the State with such petty quarrels and +mischief-making." + +Kohlhaas, who was not concerned about the horses themselves--he would +have felt just as much pain if it had been a question of a couple of +dogs--Kohlhaas foamed with rage when he received this letter. As often +as he heard a noise in the courtyard he looked toward the gateway with +the most revolting feelings of anticipation that had ever agitated his +breast, to see whether the servants of the Squire had come to restore +to him, perhaps even with an apology, the starved and worn-out horses. +This was the only situation which he felt that his soul, well +disciplined though it had been by the world, was not prepared to meet. + +A short time after, however, he heard from an acquaintance who had +traveled that road, that at Tronka Castle his horses were still being +used for work in the fields exactly like the Squire's other horses. +Through the midst of the pain caused by beholding the world in a state +of such monstrous disorder, shot the inward satisfaction of knowing +that from henceforth he would be at peace with himself. + +He invited a bailiff, who was his neighbor, to come to see him. The +latter had long cherished the idea of enlarging his estate by +purchasing the property which adjoined it. When he had seated himself +Kohlhaas asked him how much he would give for his possessions on +Brandenburg and Saxon territory, for house and farm, in a lump, +immovable or not. + +Lisbeth, his wife, grew pale when she heard his words. She turned +around and picked up her youngest child who was playing on the floor +behind her. While the child pulled at her kerchief, she darted glances +of mortal terror past the little one's red cheeks, at the +horse-dealer, and at a paper which he held in his hand. + +The bailiff stared at his neighbor in astonishment and asked him what +had suddenly given him such strange ideas; to which the horse-dealer, +with as much gaiety as he could muster, replied that the idea of +selling his farm on the banks of the Havel was not an entirely new +one, but that they had often before discussed the subject together. As +for his house in the outskirts of Dresden--in comparison with the farm +it was only a tag end and need not be taken into consideration. In +short, if the bailiff would do as he wished and take over both pieces +of property, he was ready to close the contract with him. He added +with rather forced pleasantry that Kohlhaasenbrück was not the world; +that there might be objects in life compared with which that of taking +care of his home and family as a father is supposed to would be a +secondary and unworthy one. In a word, he must tell him that his soul +was intent upon accomplishing great things, of which, perhaps, he +would hear shortly. The bailiff, reassured by these words, said +jokingly to Kohlhaas' wife, who was kissing her child repeatedly, +"Surely he will not insist upon being paid immediately!" Then he laid +his hat and cane, which he had been holding between his knees, on the +table, and taking the paper, which the horse-dealer was holding in his +hand, began to read. Kohlhaas, moving closer to him, explained that it +was a contingent contract to purchase, drawn up by himself, his right +to cancel the contract expiring in four weeks. He showed the bailiff +that nothing was wanting but the signatures, the insertion of the +purchase-price itself, and the amount of the forfeit that he, +Kohlhaas, would agree to pay in case he should withdraw from the +contract within the four weeks' time. Again Kohlhaas gaily urged his +friend to make an offer, assuring him that he would be reasonable and +would make the conditions easy for him. His wife was walking up and +down the room; she breathed so hard that the kerchief, at which the +boy had been pulling, threatened to fall clear off her shoulder. The +bailiff said that he really had no way of judging the value of the +property in Dresden; whereupon Kohlhaas, shoving toward him some +letters which had been exchanged at the time of its purchase, answered +that he estimated it at one hundred gold gulden, although the letters +would show that it had cost him almost half as much again. The bailiff +who, on reading the deed of sale, found that, strangely enough, he too +was guaranteed the privilege of withdrawing from the bargain, had +already half made up his mind; but he said that, of course, he could +make no use of the stud-horses which were in the stables. When +Kohlhaas replied that he wasn't at all inclined to part with the +horses either, and that he also desired to keep for himself some +weapons which were hanging in the armory, the bailiff still continued +to hesitate for some time. At last he repeated an offer that, once +before, when they were out walking together, he had made him, half in +jest and half in earnest--a trifling offer indeed, in comparison with +the value of the property. Kohlhaas pushed the pen and ink over for +him to sign, and when the bailiff, who could not believe his senses, +again inquired if he were really in earnest, and the horse-dealer +asked, a little sensitively, whether he thought that he was only +jesting with him, then took up the pen, though with a very serious +face, and wrote. However, he crossed out the clause concerning the sum +to be forfeited in case the seller should repent of the transaction, +bound himself to a loan of one hundred gold gulden on a mortgage on +the Dresden property, which he absolutely refused to buy outright, and +allowed Kohlhaas full liberty to withdraw from the transaction at any +time within two months. + +The horse-dealer, touched by this conduct, shook his hand with great +cordiality, and after they had furthermore agreed on the principal +conditions, to the effect that a fourth part of the purchase-price +should without fail be paid immediately in cash, and the balance paid +into the Hamburg bank in three months' time, Kohlhaas called for wine +in order to celebrate such a happy conclusion of the bargain. He told +the maid-servant who entered with the bottles, to order Sternbald, +the groom, to saddle the chestnut horse for him, as he had to ride to +the capital, where he had some business to attend to. He gave them to +understand that, in a short time, when he returned, he would talk more +frankly concerning what he must for the present continue to keep to +himself. As he poured out the wine into the glasses, he asked about +the Poles and the Turks who were just then at war, and involved the +bailiff in many political conjectures on the subject; then, after +finally drinking once more to the success of their business, he +allowed the latter to depart. + +When the bailiff had left the room, Lisbeth fell down on her knees +before her husband. "If you have any affection for me," she cried, +"and for the children whom I have borne you; if you have not already, +for what reason I know not, cast us out from your heart, then tell me +what these horrible preparations mean!" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Dearest wife, they mean nothing which need cause +you any alarm, as matters stand at present. I have received a decree +in which I am told that my complaint against the Squire Wenzel Tronka +is a piece of impertinent mischief-making. As there must exist some +misunderstanding in this matter, I have made up my mind to present my +complaint once more, this time in person, to the sovereign himself." + +"But why will you sell your house?" she cried, rising with a look of +despair. + +The horse-dealer, clasping her tenderly to his breast, answered, +"Because, dear Lisbeth, I do not care to remain in a country where +they will not protect me in my rights. If I am to be kicked I would +rather be a dog than a man! I am sure that my wife thinks about this +just as I do." + +"How do you know," she asked wildly, "that they will not protect you +in your rights? If, as is becoming, you approach the Elector humbly +with your petition, how do you know that it will be thrown aside or +answered by a refusal to listen to you?" + +"Very well!" answered Kohlhaas; "if my fears on the subject are +unfounded, my house isn't sold yet, either. The Elector himself is +just, I know, and if I can only succeed in getting past those who +surround him and in reaching his person, I do not doubt that I shall +secure justice, and that, before the week is out, I shall return +joyfully home again to you and my old trade. In that case I would +gladly stay with you," he added, kissing her, "until the end of my +life! But it is advisable," he continued, "to be prepared for any +emergency, and for that reason I should like you, if it is possible, +to go away for a while with the children to your aunt in Schwerin, +whom, moreover, you have, for some time, been intending to visit!" + +"What!" cried the housewife; "I am to go to Schwerin--to go across the +frontier with the children to my aunt in Schwerin?" Terror choked her +words. + +"Certainly," answered Kohlhaas, "and, if possible, right away, so that +I may not be hindered by any family considerations in the steps I +intend to take in my suit." + +"Oh, I understand you!" she cried. "You now need nothing but weapons +and horses; whoever will may take everything else!" With this she +turned away and, in tears, flung herself down on a chair. + +Kohlhaas exclaimed in alarm, "Dearest Lisbeth, what are you doing? God +has blessed me with wife and children and worldly goods; am I today +for the first time to wish that it were otherwise?" He sat down gently +beside his wife, who at these words had flushed up and fallen on his +neck. "Tell me!" said he, smoothing the curls away from her forehead. +"What shall I do? Shall I give up my case? Do you wish me to go to +Tronka Castle, beg the knight to restore the horses to me, mount and +ride them back home?" + +Lisbeth did not dare to cry out, "Yes, yes, yes!" She shook her head, +weeping, and, clasping him close, kissed him passionately. + +"Well, then," cried Kohlhaas, "if you feel that, in case I am to +continue my trade, justice must be done me, do not deny me the liberty +which I must have in order to procure it!" + +With that he stood up and said to the groom who had come to tell him +that the chestnut horse was saddled, "To-morrow the bay horses must +be harnessed up to take my wife to Schwerin." Lisbeth said that she +had an idea! She rose, wiped the tears from her eyes, and, going over +to the desk where he had seated himself, asked him if he would give +her the petition and let her go to Berlin in his stead and hand it to +the Elector. For more reasons than one Kohlhaas was deeply moved by +this change of attitude. He drew her down on his lap, and said, +"Dearest wife, that is hardly practicable. The sovereign is surrounded +by a great many people; whoever wishes to approach him is exposed to +many annoyances." + +Lisbeth rejoined that, in a thousand cases, it was easier for a woman +to approach him than it was for a man. "Give me the petition," she +repeated, "and if all that you wish is the assurance that it shall +reach his hands, I vouch for it; he shall receive it!" + +Kohlhaas, who had had many proofs of her courage as well as of her +wisdom, asked her how she intended to go about it. To this she +answered, looking shamefacedly at the ground, that the castellan of +the Elector's palace had paid court to her in former days, when he had +been in service in Schwerin; that, to be sure, he was married now and +had several children, but that she was not yet entirely forgotten, +and, in short, her husband should leave it to her to take advantage of +this circumstance as well as of many others which it would require too +much time to enumerate. Kohlhaas kissed her joyfully, said that he +accepted her proposal, and informed her that for her to lodge with the +wife of the castellan would be all that was necessary to enable her to +approach the sovereign inside the palace itself. Then he gave her the +petition, had the bay horses harnessed, and sent her off, well bundled +up, accompanied by Sternbald, his faithful groom. + +Of all the unsuccessful steps, however, which he had taken in regard +to his suit, this journey was the most unfortunate. For only a few +days later Sternbald entered the courtyard again, leading the horses +at a walk before the wagon, in which lay his wife, stretched out, with +a dangerous contusion of the chest. Kohlhaas, who approached the wagon +with a white face, could learn nothing coherent concerning the cause +of the accident. The castellan, the groom said, had not been at home; +they had therefore been obliged to put up at an inn that stood near +the palace. Lisbeth had left this inn on the following morning, +ordering the servant to stay behind with the horses; not until evening +had she returned, and then only in this condition. It seemed she had +pressed forward too boldly toward the person of the sovereign, and +without any fault of his, but merely through the rough zeal of a +body-guard which surrounded him, she had received a blow on the chest +with the shaft of a lance. At least this was what the people said who, +toward evening, had brought her back unconscious to the inn; for she +herself could talk but little for the blood which flowed from her +mouth. The petition had been taken from her afterward by a knight. +Sternbald said that it had been his wish to jump on a horse at once +and bring the news of the unfortunate accident to his master, but, in +spite of the remonstrances of the surgeon who had been called in, she +had insisted on being taken back to her husband at Kohlhaasenbrück +without previously sending him word. She was completely exhausted by +the journey and Kohlhaas put her to bed, where she lived a few days +longer, struggling painfully to draw breath. + +They tried in vain to restore her to consciousness in order to learn +the particulars of what had occurred; she lay with fixed, already +glassy eyes, and gave no answer. + +Once only, shortly before her death, did she recover consciousness. A +minister of the Lutheran church (which religion, then in its infancy, +she had embraced, following the example of her husband) was standing +beside her bed, reading in a loud solemn voice, full of emotion, a +chapter of the Bible, when she suddenly looked up at him with a stern +expression, and, taking the Bible out of his hand, as though there +were no need to read to her from it, turned over the leaves for some +time and seemed to be searching for some special passage. At last, +with her fore-finger she pointed out to Kohlhaas, who was sitting +beside her bed, the verse: "Forgive your enemies; do good to them that +hate you." As she did so she pressed his hand with a look full of deep +and tender feeling, and passed away. + +Kohlhaas thought, "May God never forgive me the way I forgive the +Squire!" Then he kissed her amid freely flowing tears, closed her +eyes, and left the chamber. + +He took the hundred gold gulden which the bailiff had already sent him +for the stables in Dresden, and ordered a funeral ceremony that seemed +more suitable for a princess than for her--an oaken coffin heavily +trimmed with metal, cushions of silk with gold and silver tassels, and +a grave eight yards deep lined with stones and mortar. He himself +stood beside the vault with his youngest child in his arms and watched +the work. On the day of the funeral the corpse, white as snow, was +placed in a room which he had had draped with black cloth. + +The minister had just completed a touching address by the side of the +bier when the sovereign's answer to the petition which the dead woman +had presented was delivered to Kohlhaas. By this decree he was ordered +to fetch the horses from Tronka Castle and, under pain of +imprisonment, not to bring any further action in the matter. Kohlhaas +put the letter in his pocket and had the coffin carried out to the +hearse. + +As soon as the mound had been raised, the cross planted on it, and the +guests who had been present at the interment had taken their +departure, Kohlhaas flung himself down once more before his wife's +empty bed, and then set about the business of revenge. + +He sat down and made out a decree in which, by virtue of his own +innate authority, he condemned the Squire Wenzel Tronka within the +space of three days after sight to lead back to Kohlhaasenbrück the +two black horses which he had taken from him and over-worked in the +fields, and with his own hands to feed the horses in Kohlhaas' stables +until they were fat again. This decree he sent off to the Squire by a +mounted messenger, and instructed the latter to return to +Kohlhaasenbrück as soon as he had delivered the document. + +As the three days went by without the horses being returned, Kohlhaas +called Herse and informed him of what he had ordered the Squire to do +in regard to fattening them. Then he asked Herse two questions: first, +whether he would ride with him to Tronka Castle and fetch the Squire; +and, secondly, whether Herse would be willing to apply the whip to the +young gentleman after he had been brought to the stables at +Kohlhaasenbrück, in case he should be remiss in carrying out the +conditions of the decree. As soon as Herse understood what was meant +he shouted joyfully--"Sir, this very day!" and, throwing his hat into +the air, he cried that he was going to have a thong with ten knots +plaited in order to teach the Squire how to curry-comb. After this +Kohlhaas sold the house, packed the children into a wagon, and sent +them over the border. When darkness fell he called the other servants +together, seven in number, and every one of them true as gold to him, +armed them and provided them with mounts and set out for the Tronka +Castle. + +At night-fall of the third day, with this little troop he rode down +the toll-gatherer and the gate-keeper who were standing in +conversation in the arched gateway, and attacked the castle. They set +fire to all the outbuildings in the castle inclosure, and, while, amid +the outburst of the flames, Herse hurried up the winding staircase +into the tower of the castellan's quarters, and with blows and stabs +fell upon the castellan and the steward who were sitting, half +dressed, over the cards, Kohlhaas at the same time dashed into the +castle in search of the Squire Wenzel. Thus it is that the angel of +judgment descends from heaven; the Squire, who, to the accompaniment +of immoderate laughter, was just reading aloud to a crowd of young +friends the decree which the horse-dealer had sent to him, had no +sooner heard the sound of his voice in the courtyard than, turning +suddenly pale as death, he cried out to the gentlemen--"Brothers, save +yourselves!" and disappeared. As Kohlhaas entered the room he seized +by the shoulders a certain Squire, Hans Tronka, who came at him, and +flung him into the corner of the room with such force that his brains +spurted out over the stone floor. While the other knights, who had +drawn their weapons, were being overpowered and scattered by the +grooms, Kohlhaas asked where the Squire Wenzel Tronka was. Realizing +the ignorance of the stunned men, he kicked open the doors of two +apartments leading into the wings of the castle and, after searching +in every direction throughout the rambling building and finding no +one, he went down, cursing, into the castle yard, in order to place +guards at the exits. + +In the meantime, from the castle and the wings, which had caught fire +from the out-buildings, thick columns of smoke were rising heavenward. +While Sternbald and three busy grooms were gathering together +everything in the castle that was not fastened securely and throwing +it down among the horses as fair spoils, from the open windows of the +castellan's quarters the corpses of the castellan and the steward, +with their wives and children, were flung down into the courtyard amid +the joyful shouts of Herse. As Kohlhaas descended the steps of the +castle, the gouty old housekeeper who managed the Squire's +establishment threw herself at his feet. Pausing on the step, he asked +her where the Squire Wenzel Tronka was. She answered in a faint +trembling voice that she thought he had taken refuge in the chapel. +Kohlhaas then called two men with torches, and, since they had no +keys, he had the door broken open with crowbars and axes. He knocked +over altars and pews; nevertheless, to his anger and grief, he did +not find the Squire. + +It happened that, at the moment when Kohlhaas came out of the chapel, +a young servant, one of the retainers of the castle, came hurrying +upon his way to get the Squire's chargers out of a large stone stable +which was threatened by the flames. Kohlhaas, who at that very moment +spied his two blacks in a little shed roofed with straw, asked the man +why he did not rescue the two blacks. The latter, sticking the key in +the stable-door, answered that he surely must see that the shed was +already in flames. Kohlhaas tore the key violently from the +stable-door, threw it over the wall, and, raining blows as thick as +hail on the man with the flat of his sword, drove him into the burning +shed and, amid the horrible laughter of the bystanders, forced him to +rescue the black horses. Nevertheless, when the man, pale with fright, +reappeared with the horses, only a few moments before the shed fell in +behind him, he no longer found Kohlhaas. Betaking himself to the men +gathered in the castle inclosure, he asked the horse-dealer, who +several times turned his back on him, what he was to do with the +animals now. + +Kohlhaas suddenly raised his foot with such terrible force that the +kick, had it landed, would have meant death; then, without answering, +he mounted his bay horse, stationed himself under the gateway of the +castle, and, while his men continued their work of destruction, +silently awaited the break of day. + +When the morning dawned the entire castle had burned down and only the +walls remained standing; no one was left in it but Kohlhaas and his +seven men. He dismounted from his horse and, in the bright sunlight +which illuminated every crack and corner, once more searched the +inclosure. When he had to admit, hard though it was for him to do so, +that the expedition against the castle had failed, with a heart full +of pain and grief he sent Herse and some of the other men to gather +news of the direction in which the Squire had fled. He felt +especially troubled about a rich nunnery for ladies of rank, Erlabrunn +by name, which was situated on the shores of the Mulde, and whose +abbess, Antonia Tronka, was celebrated in the neighborhood as a pious, +charitable, and saintly woman. The unhappy Kohlhaas thought it only +too probable that the Squire, stripped as he was of all necessities, +had taken refuge in this nunnery, since the abbess was his own aunt +and had been his governess in his early childhood. After informing +himself of these particulars, Kohlhaas ascended the tower of the +castellan's quarters in the interior of which there was still a +habitable room, and there he drew up a so-called "Kohlhaas mandate" in +which he warned the country not to offer assistance to Squire Wenzel +Tronka, against whom he was waging just warfare, and, furthermore, +commanded every inhabitant, instead, relatives and friends not +excepted, to surrender him under penalty of death and the inevitable +burning down of everything that might be called property. + +This declaration he scattered broadcast in the surrounding country +through travelers and strangers; he even went so far as to give +Waldmann, his servant, a copy of it, with definite instructions to +carry it to Erlabrunn and place it in the hands of Lady Antonia. +Thereupon he had a talk with some of the servants of Tronka Castle who +were dissatisfied with the Squire and, attracted by the prospect of +plunder, wished to enter the horse-dealer's service. He armed them +after the manner of foot-soldiers, with cross-bows and daggers, taught +them how to mount behind the men on horseback, and after he had turned +into money everything that the company had collected and had +distributed it among them, he spent some hours in the gateway of the +castle, resting after his sorry labor. + +Toward midday Herse came and confirmed what Kohlhaas' heart, which was +always filled with the most gloomy forebodings, had already told +him--namely, that the Squire was then in the nunnery of Erlabrunn with +the old Lady Antonia Tronka, his aunt. It seemed that, through a door +in the rear wall behind the castle, leading into the open air, he had +escaped down a narrow stone stairway which, protected by a little +roof, ran down to a few boats on the Elbe. At least, Herse reported +that at midnight the Squire in a skiff without rudder or oars had +arrived at a village on the Elbe, to the great astonishment of the +inhabitants who were assembled on account of the fire at Tronka Castle +and that he had gone on toward Erlabrunn in a village cart. + +Kohlhaas sighed deeply at this news; he asked whether the horses had +been fed, and when they answered "Yes," he had his men mount, and in +three hours' time he was at the gates of Erlabrunn. Amid the rumbling +of a distant storm on the horizon, he and his troop entered the +courtyard of the convent with torches which they had lighted before +reaching the spot. Just as Waldmann, his servant, came forward to +announce that the mandate had been duly delivered, Kohlhaas saw the +abbess and the chapter-warden step out under the portal of the +nunnery, engaged in agitated conversation. While the chapter-warden, a +little old man with snow-white hair, shooting furious glances at +Kohlhaas, was having his armor put on and, in a bold voice, called to +the men-servants surrounding him to ring the storm-bell, the abbess, +white as a sheet, and holding the silver image of the Crucified One in +her hand, descended the sloping driveway and, with all her nuns, flung +herself down before Kohlhaas' horse. + +Herse and Sternbald overpowered the chapter-warden, who had no sword +in his hand, and led him off as a prisoner among the horses, while +Kohlhaas asked the abbess where Squire Wenzel Tronka was. She +unfastened from her girdle a large ring of keys, and answered, "In +Wittenberg, Kohlhaas, worthy man!"--adding, in a shaking voice, "Fear +God, and do no wrong!" Kohlhaas, plunged back into the hell of +unsatisfied thirst for revenge, wheeled his horse and was about to +cry, "Set fire to the buildings!" when a terrific thunder-bolt struck +close beside him. Turning his horse around again toward the abbess he +asked her whether she had received his mandate. The lady answered in a +weak, scarcely audible voice--"Just a few moments ago!" "When?" "Two +hours after the Squire, my nephew, had taken his departure, as truly +as God is my help!" When Waldmann, the groom, to whom Kohlhaas turned +with a lowering glance, stammered out a confirmation of this fact, +saying that the waters of the Mulde, swollen by the rain, had +prevented his arriving until a few moments ago, Kohlhaas came to his +senses. A sudden, terrible downpour of rain, sweeping across the +pavement of the courtyard and extinguishing the torches, relaxed the +tension of the unhappy man's grief; doffing his hat curtly to the +abbess, he wheeled his horse, dug in his spurs, calling "Follow me, my +brothers; the Squire is in Wittenberg," and left the nunnery. + +The night having set in, he stopped at an inn on the highroad, and had +to rest here for a day because the horses were so exhausted. As he +clearly saw that with a troop of ten men (for his company numbered +that many now) he could not defy a place like Wittenberg, he drew up a +second mandate, in which, after a short account of what had happened +to him in the land, he summoned "every good Christian," as he +expressed it, to whom he "solemnly promised bounty-money and other +perquisites of war, to take up his quarrel against Squire Tronka as +the common enemy of all Christians." In another mandate which appeared +shortly after this he called himself "a free gentleman of the Empire +and of the World, subject only to God"--an example of morbid and +misplaced fanaticism which, nevertheless, with the sound of his money +and the prospect of plunder, procured him a crowd of recruits from +among the rabble, whom the peace with Poland had deprived of a +livelihood. In fact, he had thirty-odd men when he crossed back to the +right side of the Elbe, bent upon reducing Wittenberg to ashes. + +He encamped with horses and men in an old tumble-down brick-kiln, in +the solitude of a dense forest which surrounded the town at that time. +No sooner had Sternbald, whom he had sent in disguise into the city +with the mandate, brought him word that it was already known there, +than he set out with his troop on the eve of Whitsuntide; and while +the citizens lay sound asleep, he set the town on fire at several +points simultaneously. At the same time, while his men were plundering +the suburbs, he fastened a paper to the door-post of a church to the +effect that "he, Kohlhaas, had set the city on fire, and if the Squire +were not delivered to him he would burn down the city so completely +that," as he expressed it, "he would not need to look behind any wall +to find him." + +The terror of the citizens at such an unheard-of outrage was +indescribable, though, as it was fortunately a rather calm summer +night, the flames had not destroyed more than nineteen buildings, +among which, however, was a church. Toward daybreak, as soon as the +fire had been partially extinguished, the aged Governor of the +province, Otto von Gorgas, sent out immediately a company of fifty men +to capture the bloodthirsty madman. The captain in command of the +company, Gerstenberg by name, bore himself so badly, however, that the +whole expedition, instead of subduing Kohlhaas, rather helped him to a +most dangerous military reputation. For the captain separated his men +into several divisions, with the intention of surrounding and crushing +Kohlhaas; but the latter, holding his troop together, attacked and +beat him at isolated points, so that by the evening of the following +day, not a single man of the whole company in which the hopes of the +country were centred, remained in the field against him. Kohlhaas, who +had lost some of his men in these fights, again set fire to the city +on the morning of the next day, and his murderous measures were so +well taken that once more a number of houses and almost all the barns +in the suburbs were burned down. At the same time he again posted the +well-known mandate, this time, furthermore, on the corners of the +city hall itself, and he added a notice concerning the fate of Captain +von Gerstenberg who had been sent against him by the Governor, and +whom he had overwhelmingly defeated. + +The Governor of the province, highly incensed at this defiance, placed +himself with several knights at the head of a troop of one hundred and +fifty men. At a written request he gave Squire Wenzel Tronka a guard +to protect him from the violence of the people, who flatly insisted +that he must be removed from the city. After the Governor had had +guards placed in all the villages in the vicinity, and also had +sentinels stationed on the city walls to prevent a surprise, he +himself set out on Saint Gervaise's day to capture the dragon who was +devastating the land. The horse-dealer was clever enough to keep out +of the way of this troop. By skilfully executed marches he enticed the +Governor five leagues away from the city, and by means of various +manoeuvres he gave the other the mistaken notion that, hard pressed by +superior numbers, he was going to throw himself into Brandenburg. +Then, when the third night closed in, he made a forced ride back to +Wittenberg, and for the third time set fire to the city. Herse, who +crept into the town in disguise, carried out this horrible feat of +daring, and because of a sharp north wind that was blowing, the fire +proved so destructive and spread so rapidly that in less than three +hours forty-two houses, two churches, several convents and schools, +and the very residence of the electoral governor of the province were +reduced to ruins and ashes. + +The Governor who, when the day broke, believed his adversary to be in +Brandenburg, returned by forced marches when informed of what had +happened, and found the city in a general uproar. The people were +massed by thousands around the Squire's house, which was barricaded +with heavy timbers and posts, and with wild cries they demanded his +expulsion from the city. Two burgomasters, Jenkens and Otto by name, +who were present in their official dress at the head of the entire +city council, tried in vain to explain that they absolutely must await +the return of a courier who had been dispatched to the President of +the Chancery of State for permission to send the Squire to Dresden, +whither he himself, for many reasons, wished to go. The unreasoning +crowd, armed with pikes and staves, cared nothing for these words. +After handling rather roughly some councilors who were insisting upon +the adoption of vigorous measures, the mob was about to storm the +house where the Squire was and level it to the ground, when the +Governor, Otto von Gorgas, appeared in the city at the head of his +troopers. This worthy gentleman, who was wont by his mere presence to +inspire people to respectful obedience, had, as though in compensation +for the failure of the expedition from which he was returning, +succeeded in taking prisoner three stray members of the incendiary's +band, right in front of the gates of the city. While the prisoners +were being loaded with chains before the eyes of the people, he made a +clever speech to the city councilors, assuring them that he was on +Kohlhaas' track and thought that he would soon be able to bring the +incendiary himself in chains. By force of all these reassuring +circumstances he succeeded in allaying the fears of the assembled +crowd and in partially reconciling them to the presence of the Squire +until the return of the courier from Dresden. He dismounted from his +horse and, accompanied by some knights, entered the house after the +posts and stockades had been cleared away. He found the Squire, who +was falling from one faint into another, in the hands of two doctors, +who with essences and stimulants were trying to restore him to +consciousness. As Sir Otto von Gorgas realized that this was not the +moment to exchange any words with him on the subject of the behavior +of which he had been guilty, he merely told him, with a look of quiet +contempt, to dress himself, and, for his own safety, to follow him to +the apartments of the knight's prison. They put a doublet and a helmet +on the Squire and when, with chest half bare on account of the +difficulty he had in breathing, he appeared in the street on the arm +of the Governor and his brother-in-law, the Count of Gerschau, +blasphemous and horrible curses against him rose to heaven. The mob, +whom the lansquenets found it very difficult to restrain, called him a +bloodsucker, a miserable public pest and a tormentor of men, the curse +of the city of Wittenberg, and the ruin of Saxony. After a wretched +march through the devastated city, in the course of which the Squire's +helmet fell off several times without his missing it and had to be +replaced on his head by the knight who was behind him, they reached +the prison at last, where he disappeared into a tower under the +protection of a strong guard. Meanwhile the return of the courier with +the decree of the Elector had aroused fresh alarm in the city. For the +Saxon government, to which the citizens of Dresden had made direct +application in an urgent petition, refused to permit the Squire to +sojourn in the electoral capital before the incendiary had been +captured. The Governor was instructed rather to use all the power at +his command to protect the Squire just where he was, since he had to +stay somewhere, but in order to pacify the good city of Wittenberg, +the inhabitants were informed that a force of five hundred men under +the command of Prince Friedrich of Meissen was already on the way to +protect them from further molestation on the part of Kohlhaas. + +The Governor saw clearly that a decree of this kind was wholly +inadequate to pacify the people. For not only had several small +advantages gained by the horse-dealer in skirmishes outside the city +sufficed to spread extremely disquieting rumors as to the size to +which his band had grown; his way of waging warfare with ruffians in +disguise who slunk about under cover of darkness with pitch, straw, +and sulphur, unheard of and quite without precedent as it was, would +have rendered ineffectual an even larger protecting force than the one +which was advancing under the Prince of Meissen. After reflecting a +short time, the Governor determined therefore to suppress altogether +the decree he had received; he merely posted at all the street corners +a letter from the Prince of Meissen, announcing his arrival. At +daybreak a covered wagon left the courtyard of the knight's prison and +took the road to Leipzig, accompanied by four heavily armed troopers +who, in an indefinite sort of way, let it be understood that they were +bound for the Pleissenburg. The people having thus been satisfied on +the subject of the ill-starred Squire, whose existence seemed +identified with fire and sword, the Governor himself set out with a +force of three hundred men to join Prince Friedrich of Meissen. In the +mean time Kohlhaas, thanks to the strange position which he had +assumed in the world, had in truth increased the numbers of his band +to one hundred and nine men, and he had also collected in Jessen a +store of weapons with which he had fully armed them. When informed of +the two tempests that were sweeping down upon him, he decided to go to +meet them with the speed of the hurricane before they should join to +overwhelm him. In accordance with this plan he attacked the Prince of +Meissen the very next night, surprising him near Mühlberg. In this +fight, to be sure, he was greatly grieved to lose Herse, who was +struck down at his side by the first shots but, embittered by this +loss, in a three-hour battle he so roughly handled the Prince of +Meissen, who was unable to collect his forces in the town, that at +break of day the latter was obliged to take the road back to Dresden, +owing to several severe wounds which he had received and the complete +disorder into which his troops had been thrown. Kohlhaas, made +foolhardy by this victory, turned back to attack the Governor before +the latter could learn of it, fell upon him at midday in the open +country near the village of Damerow, and fought him until nightfall, +with murderous losses, to be sure, but with corresponding success. +Indeed, the next morning he would certainly with the remnant of his +band have renewed the attack on the Governor, who had thrown himself +into the churchyard at Damerow, if the latter had not received +through spies the news of the defeat of the Prince at Mühlberg and +therefore deemed it wiser to return to Wittenberg to await a more +propitious moment. + +Five days after the dispersion of these two bodies of troops, Kohlhaas +arrived before Leipzig and set fire to the city on three different +sides. In the mandate which he scattered broadcast on this occasion he +called himself "a vicegerent of the archangel Michael who had come to +visit upon all who, in this controversy, should take the part of the +Squire, punishment by fire and sword for the villainy into which the +whole world was plunged." At the same time, having surprised the +castle at Lützen and fortified himself in it, he summoned the people +to join him and help establish a better order of things. With a sort +of insane fanaticism the mandate was signed: "Done at the seat of our +provisional world government, our ancient castle at Lützen." + +As the good fortune of the inhabitants of Leipzig would have it, the +fire, owing to a steady rain which was falling, did not spread, so +that, thanks to the rapid action of the means at hand for +extinguishing fires, only a few small shops which lay around the +Pleissenburg went up in flames; nevertheless the presence of the +desperate incendiary, and his erroneous impression that the Squire was +in Leipzig, caused unspeakable consternation in the city. When a troop +of one hundred and eighty men at arms that had been sent against him +returned defeated, nothing else remained for the city councilors, who +did not wish to jeopardize the wealth of the place, but to bar the +gates completely and set the citizens to keep watch day and night +outside the walls. In vain the city council had declarations posted in +the villages of the surrounding country, with the positive assurance +that the Squire was not in the Pleissenburg. The horse-dealer, in +similar manifestos, insisted that he was in the Pleissenburg and +declared that if the Squire were not there, he, Kohlhaas, would at any +rate proceed as though he were until he should have been told the +name of the place where his enemy was to be found. The Elector, +notified by courier of the straits to which the city of Leipzig was +reduced, declared that he was already gathering a force of two +thousand men and would put himself at their head in order to capture +Kohlhaas. He administered to Sir Otto von Gorgas a severe rebuke for +the misleading and ill-considered artifice to which he had resorted to +rid the vicinity of Wittenberg of the incendiary. Nor can any one +describe the confusion which seized all Saxony, and especially the +electoral capital, when it was learned there that in all the villages +near Leipzig a declaration addressed to Kohlhaas had been placarded, +no one knew by whom, to the effect that "Wenzel, the Squire, was with +his cousins Hinz and Kunz in Dresden." + +It was under these circumstances that Doctor Martin Luther, supported +by the authority which his position in the world gave him, undertook +the task of forcing Kohlhaas, by the power of kindly words, back +within the limits set by the social order of the day. Building upon an +element of good in the breast of the incendiary, he had posted in all +the cities and market-towns of the Electorate a placard addressed to +him, which read as follows: + +"Kohlhaas, thou who claimest to be sent to wield the sword of justice, +what is it that thou, presumptuous man, art making bold to attempt in +the madness of thy stone-blind passion--thou who art filled from head +to foot with injustice? Because the sovereign, to whom thou art +subject, has denied thee thy rights--thy rights in the struggle for a +paltry trifle--thou arisest, godless man, with fire and sword, and +like a wolf of the wilderness dost burst upon the peaceful community +which he protects. Thou, who misleadest men with this declaration full +of untruthfulness and guile, dost thou think, sinner, to satisfy God +therewith in that future day which shall shine into the recesses of +every heart? How canst thou say that thy rights have been denied +thee--thou, whose savage breast, animated by the inordinate desire +for base revenge, completely gave up the endeavor to procure justice +after the first half-hearted attempts, which came to naught? Is a +bench full of constables and beadles who suppress a letter that is +presented, or who withhold a judgment that they should deliver--is +this thy supreme authority? And must I tell thee, impious man, that +the supreme authority of the land knows nothing whatever about thine +affair--nay, more, that the sovereign against whom thou art rebelling +does not even know thy name, so that when thou shalt one day come +before the throne of God thinking to accuse him, he will be able to +say with a serene countenance, 'I have done no wrong to this man, +Lord, for my soul is ignorant of his existence.' Know that the sword +which thou wieldest is the sword of robbery and bloodthirstiness. A +rebel art thou, and no warrior of the righteous God; wheel and gallows +are thy goal on earth--gallows and, in the life to come, damnation +which is ordained for crime and godlessness. + +Wittenberg, etc. MARTIN LUTHER." + +When Sternbald and Waldmann, to their great consternation, discovered +the placard which had been affixed to the gateway of the castle at +Lützen during the night, Kohlhaas within the castle was just revolving +in his distracted mind a new plan for the burning of Leipzig--for he +placed no faith in the notices posted in the villages announcing that +Squire Wenzel was in Dresden, since they were not signed by any one, +let alone by the municipal council, as he had required. For several +days the two men hoped in vain that Kohlhaas would perceive Luther's +placard, for they did not care to approach him on the subject. Gloomy +and absorbed in thought, he did indeed, in the evening, appear, but +only to give his brief commands, and he noticed nothing. Finally one +morning, when he was about to have two of his followers strung up for +plundering in the vicinity against his express orders, Sternbald and +Waldmann determined to call his attention to it. With the pomp which +he had adopted since his last manifesto--a large cherubim's sword on +a red leather cushion, ornamented with golden tassels, borne before +him, and twelve men with burning torches following him--Kohlhaas was +just returning from the place of execution, while the people on both +sides timidly made way for him. At that moment the two men, with their +swords under their arms, walked, in a way that could not fail to +excite his surprise, around the pillar to which the placard was +attached. + +When Kohlhaas, sunk in thought and with his hands folded behind his +back, came under the portal, he raised his eyes and started back in +surprise, and as the two men at sight of him drew back respectfully, +he advanced with rapid steps to the pillar, watching them +absent-mindedly. But who can describe the storm of emotion in his soul +when he beheld there the paper accusing him of injustice, signed by +the most beloved and honored name he knew--the name of Martin Luther! +A dark flush spread over his face; taking off his helmet he read the +document through twice from beginning to end, then walked back among +his men with irresolute glances as though he were about to speak, yet +said nothing. He unfastened the paper from the pillar, read it through +once again, and cried, "Waldmann! have my horse saddled!"--then, +"Sternbald, follow me into the castle!" and with that he disappeared. +It had needed but these few words of that godly man to disarm him +suddenly in the midst of all the dire destruction that he was +plotting. + +He threw on the disguise of a Thuringian farmer and told Sternbald +that a matter of the greatest importance obliged him to go to +Wittenberg. In the presence of some of his most trustworthy men he +turned over to Sternbald the command of the band remaining in Lützen, +and with the assurance that he would be back in three days, during +which time no attack was to be feared, he departed for Wittenberg. He +put up at an inn under an assumed name, and at nightfall, wrapped in +his cloak and provided with a brace of pistols which he had taken at +the sack of Tronka Castle, entered Luther's room. When Luther, who +was sitting at his desk with a mass of books and papers before him, +saw the extraordinary stranger enter his room and bolt the door behind +him, he asked who he was and what he wanted. The man, who was holding +his hat respectfully in his hand, had no sooner, with a diffident +presentiment of the terror that he would cause, made answer that he +was Michael Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer, than Luther cried out, "Stand +far back from me!" and rising from the desk added, as he hurried +toward a bell, "Your breath is pestilence, your presence destruction!" + +Without stirring from the spot Kohlhaas drew his pistol and said, +"Most reverend Sir, if you touch the bell this pistol will stretch me +lifeless at your feet! Sit down and hear me. You are not safer among +the angels, whose psalms you are writing down, than you are with me." + +Luther sat down and asked, "What do you want?" Kohlhaas answered, "I +wish to refute the opinion you have of me, that I am an unjust man! +You told me in your placard that my sovereign knows nothing about my +case. Very well; procure me a safe-conduct and I will go to Dresden +and lay it before him." + +"Impious and terrible man!" cried Luther, puzzled and, at the same +time, reassured by these words. "Who gave you the right to attack +Squire Tronka in pursuance of a decree issued on your own authority, +and, when you did not find him in his castle, to visit with fire and +sword the whole community which protects him?" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Reverend Sir, no one, henceforth. Information +which I received from Dresden deceived and misled me! The war which I +am waging against society is a crime, so long as I haven't been cast +out--and you have assured me that I have not." + +"Cast out!" cried Luther, looking at him. "What mad thoughts have +taken possession of you? Who could have cast you out from the +community of the state in which you lived? Indeed where, as long as +states have existed, has there ever been a case of any one, no matter +who, being cast out of such a community?" + +"I call that man cast out," answered Kohlhaas, clenching his fist, "who +is denied the protection of the laws. For I need this protection, if +my peaceable business is to prosper. Yes, it is for this that, with +all my possessions, I take refuge in this community, and he who denies +me this protection casts me out among the savages of the desert; he +places in my hand--how can you try to deny it?--the club with which to +protect myself." + +"Who has denied you the protection of the laws?" cried Luther. "Did I +not write you that your sovereign, to whom you addressed your +complaint, has never heard of it? If state-servants behind his back +suppress lawsuits or otherwise trifle with his sacred name without his +knowledge, who but God has the right to call him to account for +choosing such servants, and are you, lost and terrible man, entitled +to judge him therefor?" + +"Very well," answered Kohlhaas, "if the sovereign does not cast me out +I will return again to the community which he protects. Procure for +me, I repeat it, safe-conduct to Dresden; then I will disperse the +band of men that I have collected in the castle at Lützen and I will +once again lay my complaint, which was rejected, before the courts of +the land." + +With an expression of vexation, Luther tossed in a heap the papers +that were lying on his desk, and was silent. The attitude of defiance +which this singular man had assumed toward the state irritated him, +and reflecting upon the judgment which Kohlhaas had issued at +Kohlhaasenbrück against the Squire, he asked what it was that he +demanded of the tribunal at Dresden. Kohlhaas answered, "The +punishment of the Squire according to the law; restoration of the +horses to their former condition; and compensation for the damages +which I, as well as my groom Herse, who fell at Mühlberg, have +suffered from the outrage perpetrated upon us." + +Luther cried, "Compensation for damages! Money by the thousands, from +Jews and Christians, on notes and securities, you have borrowed to +defray the expenses of your wild revenge! Shall you put that amount +also on the bill when it comes to reckoning up the costs?" + +"God forbid!" answered Kohlhaas. "House and farm and the means that I +possessed I do not demand back, any more than the expenses of my +wife's funeral! Herse's old mother will present the bill for her son's +medical treatment, as well as a list of those things which he lost at +Tronka Castle; and the loss which I suffered on account of not selling +the black horses the government may have estimated by an expert." + +Luther exclaimed, as he gazed at him, "Mad, incomprehensible, and +amazing man! After your sword has taken the most ferocious revenge +upon the Squire which could well be imagined, what impels you to +insist upon a judgment against him, the severity of which, when it is +finally pronounced, will fall so lightly upon him?" + +Kohlhaas answered, while a tear rolled down his cheek, "Most reverend +Sir! It has cost me my wife; Kohlhaas intends to prove to the world +that she did not perish in an unjust quarrel. Do you, in these +particulars, yield to my will and let the court of justice speak; in +all other points that may be contested I will yield to you." + +Luther said, "See here, what you demand is just, if indeed the +circumstances are such as is commonly reported; and if you had only +succeeded in having your suit decided by the sovereign before you +arbitrarily proceeded to avenge yourself, I do not doubt that your +demands would have been granted, point for point. But, all things +considered, would it not have been better for you to pardon the Squire +for your Redeemer's sake, take back the black horses, thin and +worn-out as they were, and mount and ride home to Kohlhaasenbrück to +fatten them in your own stable?" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Perhaps!" Then, stepping to the window, "Perhaps +not, either! Had I known that I should be obliged to set them on +their feet again with blood from the heart of my dear wife, I might, +reverend Sir, perhaps have done as you say and not have considered a +bushel of oats! But since they have now cost me so dear, let the +matter run its course, say I; have judgment be pronounced as is due +me, and have the Squire fatten my horses for me." + +Turning back to his papers with conflicting thoughts, Luther said that +he would enter into negotiations with the Elector on his behalf; in +the mean time let him remain quietly in the castle at Lützen. If the +sovereign would consent to accord him free-conduct, they would make +the fact known to him by posting it publicly. "To be sure," he +continued, as Kohlhaas bent to kiss his hand, "whether the Elector +will be lenient, I do not know, for I have heard that he has collected +an army and is about to start out to apprehend you in the castle at +Lützen; however, as I have already told you, there shall be no lack of +effort on my part"--and, as he spoke, he got up from his chair +prepared to dismiss him. Kohlhaas declared that Luther's intercession +completely reassured him on that point, whereupon Luther bowed to him +with a sweep of his hand. Kohlhaas, however, suddenly sank down on one +knee before him and said he had still another favor to ask of him--the +fact was, that at Whitsuntide, when it was his custom to receive the +Holy Communion, he had failed to go to church on account of this +warlike expedition of his. Would Luther have the goodness to receive +his confession without further preparation and, in exchange, +administer to him the blessed Holy Sacrament? Luther, after reflecting +a short time, scanned his face, and said, "Yes, Kohlhaas, I will do +so. But the Lord, whose body you desire, forgave his enemy. Will you +likewise," he added, as the other looked at him disconcerted, "forgive +the Squire who has offended you? Will you go to Tronka Castle, mount +your black horses, ride them back to Kohlhaasenbrück and fatten them +there?" + +"Your Reverence!" said Kohlhaas flushing, and seized his hand-- + +"Well?" + +"Even the Lord did not forgive all his enemies. Let me forgive the +Elector, my two gentlemen the castellan and the steward, the lords +Hinz and Kunz, and whoever else may have injured me in this affair; +but, if it is possible, suffer me to force the Squire to fatten my +black horses again for me." + +At these words Luther turned his back on him, with a displeased +glance, and rang the bell. In answer to the summons an amanuensis came +into the anteroom with a light, and Kohlhaas, wiping his eyes, rose +from his knees disconcerted; and since the amanuensis was working in +vain at the door, which was bolted, and Luther had sat down again to +his papers, Kohlhaas opened the door for the man. Luther glanced for +an instant over his shoulder at the stranger, and said to the +amanuensis, "Light the way!" whereupon the latter, somewhat surprised +at the sight of the visitor, took down from the wall the key to the +outside door and stepped back to the half-opened door of the room, +waiting for the stranger to take his departure. Kohlhaas, holding his +hat nervously in both hands, said, "And so, most reverend Sir, I +cannot partake of the benefit of reconciliation, which I solicited of +you?" + +Luther answered shortly, "Reconciliation with your Savior--no! With +the sovereign--that depends upon the success of the attempt which I +promised you to make." And then he motioned to the amanuensis to carry +out, without further delay, the command he had given him. Kohlhaas +laid both hands on his heart with an expression of painful emotion, +and disappeared after the man who was lighting him down the stairs. + +On the next morning Luther dispatched a message to the Elector of +Saxony in which, after a bitter allusion to the lords, Hinz and Kunz +Tronka, Chamberlain and Cup-bearer to his Highness, who, as was +generally known, had suppressed the petition, he informed the +sovereign, with the candor that was peculiar to him, that under such +notorious circumstances there was nothing to do but to accept the +proposition of the horse-dealer and to grant him an amnesty for what +had occurred so that he might have opportunity to renew his lawsuit. +Public opinion, Luther remarked, was on the side of this man to a very +dangerous extent--so much so that, even in Wittenberg, which had three +times been burnt down by him, there was a voice raised in his favor. +And since, if his offer were refused, Kohlhaas would undoubtedly bring +it to the knowledge of the people, accompanied by malicious comments, +and the populace might easily be so far misled that nothing further +could be done against him by the authorities of the state, Luther +concluded that, in this extraordinary case, scruples about entering +into negotiations with a subject who had taken up arms must be passed +over; that, as a matter of fact, the latter, by the conduct which had +been observed toward him, had in a sense been cast out of the body +politic, and, in short, in order to put an end to the matter, he +should be regarded rather as a foreign power which had attacked the +land (and, since he was not a Saxon subject, he really might, in a +way, be regarded as such), than as a rebel in revolt against the +throne. + +When the Elector received this letter there were present at the palace +Prince Christiern of Meissen, Generalissimo of the Empire, uncle of +that Prince Friedrich of Meissen who had been defeated at Mühlberg and +was still laid up with his wounds, also the Grand Chancellor of the +Tribunal, Count Wrede, Count Kallheim, President of the Chancery of +State, and the two lords, Hinz and Kunz Tronka, the former Cup-bearer, +the latter Chamberlain--all confidential friends of the sovereign from +his youth. The Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, who in his capacity of privy +councilor, attended to the private correspondence of his master and +had the right to use his name and seal, was the first to speak. He +once more explained in detail that never, on his own authority, would +he have suppressed the complaint which the horse-dealer had lodged in +court against his cousin the Squire, had it not been for the fact +that, misled by false statements, he had believed it an absolutely +unfounded and worthless piece of mischief-making. After this he passed +on to consider the present state of affairs. He remarked that by +neither divine nor human laws had the horse-dealer been warranted in +wreaking such horrible vengeance as he had allowed himself to take for +this mistake. The Chamberlain then proceeded to describe the glory +that would fall upon the damnable head of the latter if they should +negotiate with him as with a recognized military power, and the +ignominy which would thereby be reflected upon the sacred person of +the Elector seemed to him so intolerable that, carried away by the +fire of his eloquence, he declared he would rather let worst come to +worst, see the judgment of the mad rebel carried out and his cousin, +the Squire, led off to Kohlhaasenbrück to fatten the black horses, +than know that the proposition made by Dr. Luther had been accepted. + +The Lord High Chancellor of the Tribunal of Justice, Count Wrede, +turning half way round toward him, expressed regret that the +Chamberlain had not, in the first instance, been inspired with such +tender solicitude for the reputation of the sovereign as he was +displaying in the solution of this undoubtedly delicate affair. He +represented to the Elector his hesitation about employing the power of +the state to carry out a manifestly unjust measure. He remarked, with +a significant allusion to the great numbers which the horse-dealer was +continually recruiting in the country, that the thread of the crime +threatened in this way to be spun out indefinitely, and declared that +the only way to sunder it and extricate the government happily from +that ugly quarrel was to act with plain honesty and to make good, +directly and without respect of person, the mistake which they had +been guilty of committing. + +Prince Christiern of Meissen, when asked by the Elector to express his +opinion, turned deferentially toward the Grand Chancellor and declared +that the latter's way of thinking naturally inspired in him the +greatest respect, but, in wishing to aid Kohlhaas to secure justice, +the Chancellor failed to consider that he was wronging Wittenberg, +Leipzig, and the entire country that had been injured by him, in +depriving them of their just claim for indemnity or at least for +punishment of the culprit. The order of the state was so disturbed in +its relation to this man that it would be difficult to set it right by +an axiom taken from the science of law. Therefore, in accord with the +opinion of the Chamberlain, he was in favor of employing the means +appointed for such cases--that is to say, there should be gathered a +force large enough to enable them either to capture or to crush the +horse-dealer, who had planted himself in the castle at Lützen. The +Chamberlain brought over two chairs from the wall and obligingly +placed them together in the middle of the room for the Elector and the +Prince, saying, as he did so, that he was delighted to find that a man +of the latter's uprightness and acumen agreed with him about the means +to be employed in settling an affair of such varied aspect. The +Prince, placing his hand on the chair without sitting down, looked at +him, and assured him that he had little cause to rejoice on that +account since the first step connected with this course would be the +issuing of a warrant for his arrest, to be followed by a suit for +misuse of the sovereign's name. For if necessity required that the +veil be drawn before the throne of justice over a series of crimes, +which finally would be unable to find room before the bar of judgment, +since each led to another, and no end--this at least did not apply to +the original offense which had given birth to them. First and +foremost, he, the Chamberlain, must be tried for his life if the state +was to be authorized to crush the horse-dealer, whose case, as was +well known, was exceedingly just, and in whose hand they had placed +the sword that he was wielding. + +The discomfited Chamberlain at these words gazed at the Elector, who +turned away, his whole face flushing, and walked over to the window. +After an embarrassing silence on all sides, Count Kallheim said that +this was not the way to extricate themselves from the magic circle in +which they were captive. His nephew, Prince Friedrich, might be put +upon trial with equal justice, for in the peculiar expedition which he +had undertaken against Kohlhaas he had over-stepped his instructions +in many ways--so much so that, if one were to inquire about the whole +long list of those who had caused the embarrassment in which they now +found themselves, he too would have to be named among them and called +to account by the sovereign for what had occurred at Mühlberg. + +While the Elector, with doubtful glances, walked up to his table, the +Cup-bearer, Sir Hinz Tronka, began to speak in his turn. He did not +understand, he said, how the governmental decree which was to be +passed could escape men of such wisdom as were here assembled. The +horse-dealer, so far as he knew, in return for mere safe-conduct to +Dresden and a renewed investigation of his case, had promised to +disband the force with which he had attacked the land. It did not +follow from this, however, that he must be granted an amnesty for the +wanton revenge he had taken into his own hands. These were two +different legal concepts which Dr. Luther, as well as the council of +state, seemed to have confounded. "When," he continued, laying his +finger beside his nose, "the judgment concerning the black horses has +been pronounced by the Tribunal at Dresden, no matter what it may be, +nothing prevents us from imprisoning Kohlhaas on the ground of his +incendiarism and robberies. That would be a diplomatic solution of the +affair, which would unite the advantages of the opinion of both +statesmen and would be sure to win the applause of the world and of +posterity." The Prince, as well as the Lord Chancellor, answered this +speech of Sir Hinz with a mere glance, and, as the discussion +accordingly seemed at an end, the Elector said that he would turn over +in his own mind, until the next sitting of the State Council, the +various opinions which had been expressed before him. It seemed as if +the preliminary measure mentioned by the Prince had deprived the +Elector's heart, which was very sensitive where friendship was +concerned, of the desire to proceed with the campaign against +Kohlhaas, all the preparations for which were completed; at least he +bade the Lord Chancellor, Count Wrede, whose opinion appeared to him +the most expedient, to remain after the others left. The latter showed +him letters from which it appeared that, as a matter of fact, the +horse-dealer's forces had already come to number four hundred men; +indeed, in view of the general discontent which prevailed all over the +country on account of the misdemeanors of the Chamberlain, he might +reckon on doubling or even tripling this number in a short time. +Without further hesitation the Elector decided to accept the advice +given him by Dr. Luther; accordingly he handed over to Count Wrede the +entire management of the Kohlhaas affair. Only a few days later a +placard appeared, the essence of which we give as follows: + +"We, etc., etc., Elector of Saxony, in especially gracious +consideration of the intercession made to us by Doctor Martin Luther, +do grant to Michael Kohlhaas, horse-dealer from the territory of +Brandenburg, safe-conduct to Dresden for the purpose of a renewed +investigation of his case, on condition that, within three days after +sight, he lay down the arms to which he has had recourse. It is to be +understood, however, that in the unlikely event of Kohlhaas' suit +concerning the black horses being rejected by the Tribunal at Dresden, +he shall be prosecuted with all the severity of the law for +arbitrarily undertaking to procure justice for himself. Should his +suit, however, terminate otherwise, we will show mercy to him and his +whole band, instead of inflicting deserved punishment, and a complete +amnesty shall be accorded him for the acts of violence which he has +committed in Saxony." + +Kohlhaas had no sooner received through Dr. Luther a copy of this +placard, which had been posted in all the public squares throughout +the land, than, in spite of the conditional language in which it was +couched, he immediately dispersed his whole band of followers with +presents, expressions of gratitude, and appropriate admonitions. He +deposited whatever he had taken in the way of money, weapons, and +chattels, with the courts at Lützen, to be held as the property of the +Elector, and after he had dispatched Waldmann to the bailiff at +Kohlhaasenbrück with letters about repurchasing his farm, if that were +still possible, and had sent Sternbald to Schwerin for his children +whom he wished to have with him again, he left the castle at Lützen +and went, without being recognized, to Dresden, carrying with him in +bonds the remnant of his little property. + +Day was just breaking and the whole city was still asleep when he +knocked at the door of the little dwelling situated in the suburb of +Pirna, which still, thanks to the honesty of the bailiff, belonged to +him. Thomas, the old porter, in charge of the establishment, who on +opening the door was surprised and startled to see his master, was +told to take word to the Prince of Meissen, in the Government Office, +that Kohlhaas the horse-dealer had arrived. The Prince of Meissen, on +hearing this news, deemed it expedient to inform himself immediately +of the relation in which they stood to this man. When, shortly +afterward, he appeared with a retinue of knights and servants, he +found an immense crowd of people already gathered in the streets +leading to Kohlhaas' dwelling. The news that the destroying angel was +there, who punished the oppressors of the people with fire and sword, +had aroused all Dresden, the city as well as the suburbs. They were +obliged to bolt the door of the house against the press of curious +people, and the boys climbed up to the windows in order to get a peep +at the incendiary, who was eating his breakfast inside. + +As soon as the Prince, with the help of the guard who cleared the way +for him, had pushed into the house and entered Kohlhaas' room, he +asked the latter, who was standing half undressed before a table, +whether he was Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer. Kohlhaas, drawing from his +belt a wallet containing several papers concerning his affairs and +handing it respectfully to the Prince, answered, "Yes;" and added +that, in conformity with the immunity granted him by the sovereign, he +had come to Dresden, after disbanding his force, in order to institute +proceedings against Squire Wenzel Tronka on account of the black +horses. + +The Prince, after a hasty glance which took Kohlhaas in from head to +foot, looked through the papers in the wallet and had him explain the +nature of a certificate which he found there executed by the court at +Lützen, concerning the deposit made in favor of the treasury of the +Electorate. After he had further tested him with various questions +about his children, his wealth, and the sort of life he intended to +lead in the future, in order to find out what kind of man he was, and +had concluded that in every respect they might set their minds at rest +about him, he gave him back the documents and said that nothing now +stood in the way of his lawsuit, and that, in order to institute it, +he should just apply directly to the Lord High Chancellor of the +Tribunal, Count Wrede himself. "In the meantime," said the Prince +after a pause, crossing over to the window and gazing in amazement at +the people gathered in front of the house, "you will be obliged to +consent to a guard for the first few days, to protect you in your +house as well as when you go out!" Kohlhaas looked down disconcerted, +and was silent. "Well, no matter," said the Prince, leaving the +window; "whatever happens, you have yourself to blame for it;" and +with that he turned again toward the door with the intention of +leaving the house. Kohlhaas, who had reflected, said "My lord, do as +you like! If you will give me your word that the guard will be +withdrawn as soon as I wish it, I have no objection to this measure." +The Prince answered, "That is understood, of course." He informed the +three foot-soldiers, who were appointed for this purpose, that the man +in whose house they were to remain was free, and that it was merely +for his protection that they were to follow him when he went out; he +then saluted the horse-dealer with a condescending wave of the hand, +and took his leave. + +Toward midday Kohlhaas went to Count Wrede, Lord High Chancellor of +the Tribunal; he was escorted by his three foot-soldiers and followed +by an innumerable crowd, who, having been warned by the police, did +not try to harm him in any way. The Chancellor received him in his +antechamber with benignity and kindness, conversed with him for two +whole hours, and after he had had the entire course of the affair +related to him from beginning to end, referred Kohlhaas to a +celebrated lawyer in the city who was a member of the Tribunal, so +that he might have the complaint drawn up and presented immediately. + +Kohlhaas, without further delay, betook himself to the lawyer's house +and had the suit drawn up exactly like the original one which had been +quashed. He demanded the punishment of the Squire according to law, +the restoration of the horses to their former condition, and +compensation for the damages he had sustained as well as for those +suffered by his groom, Herse, who had fallen at Mühlberg in behalf of +the latter's old mother. When this was done Kohlhaas returned home, +accompanied by the crowd that still continued to gape at him, firmly +resolved in his mind not to leave the house again unless called away +by important business. + +In the mean time the Squire had been released from his imprisonment in +Wittenberg, and after recovering from a dangerous attack of erysipelas +which had caused inflammation of his foot, had been summoned by the +Supreme Court in peremptory terms to present himself in Dresden to +answer the suit instituted against him by the horse-dealer, Kohlhaas, +with regard to a pair of black horses which had been unlawfully taken +from him and worked to death. The Tronka brothers, the Chamberlain and +the Cup-bearer, cousins of the Squire, at whose house he alighted, +received him with the greatest bitterness and contempt. They called +him a miserable good-for-nothing, who had brought shame and disgrace +on the whole family, told him that he would inevitably lose his suit, +and called upon him to prepare at once to produce the black horses, +which he would be condemned to fatten to the scornful laughter of the +world. The Squire answered in a weak and trembling voice that he was +more deserving of pity than any other man on earth. He swore that he +had known but little about the whole cursed affair which had plunged +him into misfortune, and that the castellan and the steward were to +blame for everything, because they, without his knowledge or consent, +had used the horses in getting in the crops and, by overworking them, +partly in their own fields, had rendered them unfit for further use. +He sat down as he said this and begged them not to mortify and insult +him and thus wantonly cause a relapse of the illness from which he had +but recently recovered. + +Since there was nothing else to be done, the next day, at the request +of their cousin, the Squire, the lords Hinz and Kunz, who possessed +estates in the neighborhood of Tronka Castle, which had been burned +down, wrote to their stewards and to the farmers living there for +information about the black horses which had been lost on that +unfortunate day and not heard of since. But on account of the complete +destruction of the castle and the massacre of most of the inhabitants, +all that they could learn was that a servant, driven by blows dealt +with the flat of the incendiary's sword, had rescued them from the +burning shed in which they were standing, but that afterward, to the +question where he should take them and what he should do with them, he +had been answered by a kick from the savage madman. The Squire's gouty +old housekeeper, who had fled to Meissen, assured the latter, in reply +to his written inquiry, that on the morning after that horrible night +the servant had gone off with the horses toward the Brandenburg +border, but all inquiries which were made there proved vain, and some +error seemed to lie at the bottom of this information, as the Squire +had no servant whose home was in Brandenburg or even on the road +thither. Some men from Dresden, who had been in Wilsdruf a few days +after the burning of Tronka Castle, declared that, at the time named, +a groom had arrived in that place, leading two horses by the halter, +and, as the animals were very sick and could go no further, he had +left them in the cow-stable of a shepherd who had offered to restore +them to good condition. For a variety of reasons it seemed very +probable that these were the black horses for which search was being +made, but persons coming from Wilsdruf declared that the shepherd had +already traded them off again, no one knew to whom; and a third rumor, +the originator of which could not be discovered, even asserted that +the two horses had in the mean time passed peacefully away and been +buried in the carrion pit at Wilsdruf. + +This turn of affairs, as can be easily understood, was the most +pleasing to the lords Hinz and Kunz, as they were thus relieved of the +necessity of fattening the blacks in their stables, the Squire, their +cousin, no longer having any stables of his own. They wished, however, +for the sake of absolute security, to verify this circumstance. Sir +Wenzel Tronka, therefore, in his capacity as hereditary feudal lord +with the right of judicature, addressed a letter to the magistrates at +Wilsdruf, in which, after a minute description of the black horses, +which, as he said, had been intrusted to his care and lost through an +accident, he begged them to be so obliging as to ascertain their +present whereabouts, and to urge and admonish the owner, whoever he +might be, to deliver them at the stables of the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, +in Dresden, and be generously reimbursed for all costs. Accordingly, a +few days later, the man to whom the shepherd in Wilsdruf had sold them +did actually appear with the horses, thin and staggering, tied to the +tailboard of his cart, and led them to the market-place in Dresden. As +the bad luck of Sir Wenzel and still more of honest Kohlhaas would +have it, however, the man happened to be the knacker from Döbeln. + +As soon as Sir Wenzel, in the presence of the Chamberlain, his +cousin, learned from an indefinite rumor that a man had arrived in the +city with two black horses which had escaped from the burning of +Tronka Castle, both gentlemen, accompanied by a few servants hurriedly +collected in the house, went to the palace square where the man had +stopped, intending, if the two animals proved to be those belonging to +Kohlhaas, to make good the expenses the man had incurred and take the +horses home with them. But how disconcerted were the knights to see a +momentarily increasing crowd of people, who had been attracted by the +spectacle, already standing around the two-wheeled cart to which the +horses were fastened! Amid uninterrupted laughter they were calling to +one another that the horses, on account of which the whole state was +tottering, already belonged to the knacker! The Squire who had gone +around the cart and gazed at the miserable animals, which seemed every +moment about to expire, said in an embarrassed way that those were not +the horses which he had taken from Kohlhaas; but Sir Kunz, the +Chamberlain, casting at him a look of speechless rage which, had it +been of iron, would have dashed him to pieces, and throwing back his +cloak to disclose his orders and chain, stepped up to the knacker and +asked if those were the black horses which the shepherd at Wilsdruf +had gained possession of, and for which Squire Wenzel Tronka, to whom +they belonged, had made requisition through the magistrate of that +place. + +The knacker who, with a pail of water in his hand, was busy watering a +fat, sturdy horse that was drawing his cart asked--"The blacks?" Then +he put down the pail, took the bit out of the horse's mouth, and +explained that the black horses which were tied to the tailboard of +the cart had been sold to him by the swineherd in Hainichen; where the +latter had obtained them and whether they came from the shepherd at +Wilsdruf--that he did not know. "He had been told," he continued, +taking up the pail again and propping it between the pole of the cart +and his knee "he had been told by the messenger of the court at +Wilsdruf to take the horses to the house of the Tronkas in Dresden, +but the Squire to whom he had been directed was named Kunz." With +these words he turned around with the rest of the water which the +horse had left in the pail, and emptied it out on the pavement. The +Chamberlain, who was beset by the stares of the laughing, jeering +crowd and could not induce the fellow, who was attending to his +business with phlegmatic zeal, to look at him, said that he was the +Chamberlain Kunz Tronka. The black horses, however, which he was to +get possession of, had to be those belonging to the Squire, his +cousin; they must have been given to the shepherd at Wilsdruf by a +stable-man who had run away from Tronka Castle at the time of the +fire; moreover, they must be the two horses that originally had +belonged to the horse-dealer Kohlhaas. He asked the fellow, who was +standing there with his legs apart, pulling up his trousers, whether +he did not know something about all this. Had not the swineherd of +Hainichen, he went on, perhaps purchased these horses from the +shepherd at Wilsdruf, or from a third person, who in turn had bought +them from the latter?--for everything depended on this circumstance. + +The knacker replied that he had been ordered to go with the black +horses to Dresden and was to receive the money for them in the house +of the Tronkas. He did not understand what the Squire was talking +about, and whether it was Peter or Paul, or the shepherd in Wilsdruf, +who had owned them before the swineherd in Hainichen, was all one to +him so long as they had not been stolen; and with this he went off, +with his whip across his broad back, to a public house which stood in +the square, with the intention of getting some breakfast, as he was +very hungry. + +The Chamberlain, who for the life of him didn't know what he should do +with the horses which the swineherd of Hainichen had sold to the +knacker of Döbeln, unless they were those on which the devil was +riding through Saxony, asked the Squire to say something; but when +the latter with white, trembling lips replied that it would be +advisable to buy the black horses whether they belonged to Kohlhaas or +not, the Chamberlain, cursing the father and mother who had given +birth to the Squire, stepped aside out of the crowd and threw back his +cloak, absolutely at a loss to know what he should do or leave undone. +Defiantly determined not to leave the square just because the rabble +were staring at him derisively and with their handkerchiefs pressed +tight over their mouths seemed to be waiting only for him to depart +before bursting out into laughter, he called to Baron Wenk, an +acquaintance who happened to be riding by, and begged him to stop at +the house of the Lord High Chancellor, Count Wrede, and through the +latter's instrumentality to have Kohlhaas brought there to look at the +black horses. + +When the Baron, intent upon this errand, entered the chamber of the +Lord High Chancellor, it so happened that Kohlhaas was just then +present, having been summoned by a messenger of the court to give +certain explanations of which they stood in need concerning the +deposit in Lützen. While the Chancellor, with an annoyed look, rose +from his chair and asked the horse-dealer, whose person was unknown to +the Baron, to step to one side with his papers, the latter informed +him of the dilemma in which the lords Tronka found themselves. He +explained that the knacker from Döbeln, acting on a defective +requisition from the court at Wilsdruf, had appeared with horses whose +condition was so frightful that Squire Wenzel could not help +hesitating to pronounce them the ones belonging to Kohlhaas. In case +they were to be taken from the knacker not-withstanding, and an +attempt made to restore them to good condition in the stables of the +knights, an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas would first be necessary in +order to establish the aforesaid circumstance beyond doubt. "Will you +therefore have the goodness," he concluded, "to have a guard fetch the +horse-dealer from his house and conduct him to the market-place where +the horses are standing?" The Lord High Chancellor, taking his glasses +from his nose, said that the Baron was laboring under a double +delusion--first, in thinking that the fact in question could be +ascertained only by means of an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas, and +then, in imagining that he, the Chancellor, possessed the authority to +have Kohlhaas taken by a guard wherever the Squire happened to wish. +With this he presented to him Kohlhaas who was standing behind him, +and sitting down and putting on his glasses again, begged him to apply +to the horse-dealer himself in the matter. + +Kohlhaas, whose expression gave no hint of what was going on in his +mind, said that he was ready to follow the Baron to the market-place +and inspect the black horses which the knacker had brought to the +city. As the disconcerted Baron faced around toward him, Kohlhaas +stepped up to the table of the Chancellor, and, after taking time to +explain to him, with the help of the papers in his wallet, several +matters concerning the deposit in Lützen, took his leave. The Baron, +who had walked over to the window, his face suffused with a deep +blush, likewise made his adieux, and both, escorted by the three +foot-soldiers assigned by the Prince of Meissen, took their way to the +Palace square attended by a great crowd of people. + +In the mean time the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, in spite of the protests +of several friends who had joined him, had stood his ground among the +people, opposite the knacker of Döbeln. As soon as the Baron and the +horse-dealer appeared he went up to the latter and, holding his sword +proudly and ostentatiously under his arm, asked if the horses standing +behind the wagon were his. + +The horse-dealer, turning modestly toward the gentleman who had asked +him the question and who was unknown to him, touched his hat; then, +without answering, he walked toward the knacker's cart, surrounded by +all the knights. The animals were standing there on unsteady legs, +with heads bowed down to the ground, making no attempt to eat the hay +which the knacker had placed before them. Kohlhaas stopped a dozen +feet away, and after a hasty glance turned back again to the +Chamberlain, saying, "My lord, the knacker is quite right; the horses +which are fastened to his cart belong to me!" As he spoke he looked +around at the whole circle of knights, touched his hat once more, and +left the square, accompanied by his guard. + +At these words the Chamberlain, with a hasty step that made the plume +of his helmet tremble, strode up to the knacker and threw him a purse +full of money. And while the latter, holding the purse in his hand, +combed the hair back from his forehead with a leaden comb and stared +at the money, Sir Kunz ordered a groom to untie the horses and lead +them home. The groom, at the summons of his master, left a group of +his friends and relatives among the crowd; his face flushed slightly, +but he did, nevertheless, go up to the horses, stepping over a big +puddle that had formed at their feet. No sooner, however, had he taken +hold of the halter to untie them, than Master Himboldt, his cousin, +seized him by the arm, and with the words, "You shan't touch the +knacker's jades!" hurled him away from the cart. Then, stepping back +unsteadily over the puddle, the Master turned toward the Chamberlain, +who was standing there, speechless with astonishment at this incident, +and added that he must get a knacker's man to do him such a service as +that. The Chamberlain, foaming with rage, stared at Master Himboldt +for a moment, then turned about and, over the heads of the knights who +surrounded him, called for the guard. When, in obedience to the orders +of Baron Wenk, an officer with some of the Elector's bodyguards had +arrived from the palace, Sir Kunz gave him a short account of the +shameful way in which the burghers of the city permitted themselves to +instigate revolt, and called upon the officer to place the ringleader, +Master Himboldt, under arrest. Seizing the Master by the chest, the +Chamberlain accused him of having maltreated and thrust away from the +cart the groom who, at his orders, was unhitching the black horses. +The Master, freeing himself from the Chamberlain's grasp with a +skilful twist which forced the latter to step back, cried, "My lord, +showing a boy of twenty what he ought to do is not instigating him to +revolt! Ask him whether, contrary to all that is customary and decent, +he cares to have anything to do with those horses that are tied to the +cart. If he wants to do it after what I have said, well and good. For +all I care, he may flay and skin them now." + +At these words the Chamberlain turned round to the groom and asked him +if he had any scruples about fulfilling his command to untie the +horses which belonged to Kohlhaas and lead them home. When the groom, +stepping back among the citizens, answered timidly that the horses +must be made honorable once more before that could be expected of him, +the Chamberlain followed him, tore from the young man's head the hat +which was decorated with the badge of his house, and, after trampling +it under his feet, drew his sword and with furious blows drove the +groom instantly from the square and from his service. Master Himboldt +cried, "Down with the bloodthirsty madman, friends!" And while the +citizens, outraged at this scene, crowded together and forced back the +guard, he came up behind the Chamberlain and threw him down, tore off +his cloak, collar, and helmet, wrenched the sword from his hand, and +dashed it with a furious fling far away across the square. + +In vain did the Squire Wenzel, as he worked his way out of the crowd, +call to the knights to go to his cousin's aid; even before they had +started to rescue him, they had been so scattered by the rush of the +mob that the Chamberlain, who in falling had injured his head, was +exposed to the full wrath of the crowd. The only thing that saved him +was the appearance of a troop of mounted soldiers who chanced to be +crossing the square, and whom the officer of the Elector's body-guards +called to his assistance. The officer, after dispersing the crowd, +seized the furious Master Himboldt, and, while some of the troopers +bore him off to prison, two friends picked up the unfortunate +Chamberlain, who was covered with blood, and carried him home. + +Such was the unfortunate outcome of the well-meant and honest attempt +to procure the horse-dealer satisfaction for the injustice that had +been committed against him. The knacker of Döbeln, whose business was +concluded, and who did not wish to delay any longer, tied the horses +to a lamppost, since the crowd was beginning to scatter, and there +they remained the whole day through without any one's bothering about +them, an object of mockery for the street-arabs and loafers. Finally, +since they lacked any sort of care and attention, the police were +obliged to take them in hand, and, toward evening, the knacker of +Dresden was called to carry them off to the knacker's house outside +the city to await further instructions. + +This incident, as little as the horse-dealer was in reality to blame +for it, nevertheless awakened throughout the country, even among the +more moderate and better class of people, a sentiment extremely +dangerous to the success of his lawsuit. The relation of this man to +the state was felt to be quite intolerable and, in private houses as +well as in public places, the opinion gained ground that it would be +better to commit an open injustice against him and quash the whole +lawsuit anew, rather than, for the mere sake of satisfying his mad +obstinacy, to accord him in so trivial a matter justice which he had +wrung from them by deeds of violence. + +To complete the ruin of poor Kohlhaas, it was the Lord High Chancellor +himself, animated by too great probity, and a consequent hatred of the +Tronka family, who helped strengthen and spread this sentiment. It was +highly improbable that the horses, which were now being cared for by +the knacker of Dresden, would ever be restored to the condition they +were in when they left the stables at Kohlhaasenbrück. However, +granted that this might be possible by skilful and constant care, +nevertheless the disgrace which, as a result of the existing +circumstances, had fallen upon the Squire's family was so great that, +in consideration of the political importance which the house +possessed--being, as it was, one of the oldest and noblest families in +the land--nothing seemed more just and expedient than to arrange a +money indemnity for the horses. In spite of this, a few days later, +when the President, Count Kallheim, in the name of the Chamberlain, +who was deterred by his sickness, sent a letter to the Chancellor +containing this proposition, the latter did indeed send a +communication to Kohlhaas in which he admonished him not to decline +such a proposition should it be made to him; but in a short and rather +curt answer to the President himself the Chancellor begged him not to +bother him with private commissions in this matter and advised the +Chamberlain to apply to the horse-dealer himself, whom he described as +a very just and modest man. The horse-dealer, whose will was, in fact, +broken by the incident which had occurred in the market-place, was, in +conformity with the advice of the Lord Chancellor, only waiting for an +overture on the part of the Squire or his relatives in order to meet +them half-way with perfect willingness and forgiveness for all that +had happened; but to make this overture entailed too great a sacrifice +of dignity on the part of the proud knights. Very much incensed by the +answer they had received from the Lord Chancellor, they showed the +same to the Elector, who on the morning of the following day had +visited the Chamberlain in his room where he was confined to his bed +with his wounds. + +In a voice rendered weak and pathetic by his condition, the +Chamberlain asked the Elector whether, after risking his life to +settle this affair according to his sovereign's wishes, he must also +expose his honor to the censure of the world and to appear with a +request for relenting and compromise before a man who had brought +every imaginable shame and disgrace on him and his family. + +The Elector, after having read the letter, asked Count Kallheim in an +embarrassed way whether, without further communication with Kohlhaas, +the Tribunal were not authorized to base its decision on the fact that +the horses could not be restored to their original condition, and in +conformity therewith to draw up the judgment just as if the horses +were dead, on the sole basis of a money indemnity. + +The Count answered, "Most gracious sovereign, they are dead; they are +dead in the sight of the law because they have no value, and they will +be so physically before they can be brought from the knacker's house +to the knights' stables." To this the Elector, putting the letter in +his pocket, replied that he would himself speak to the Lord Chancellor +about it. He spoke soothingly to the Chamberlain, who raised himself +on his elbow and seized his hand in gratitude, and, after lingering a +moment to urge him to take care of his health, rose with a very +gracious air and left the room. + +Thus stood affairs in Dresden, when from the direction of Lützen there +gathered over poor Kohlhaas another thunder-storm, even more serious, +whose lightning-flash the crafty knights were clever enough to draw +down upon the horse-dealer's unlucky head. It so happened that one of +the band of men that Kohlhaas had collected and turned off again after +the appearance of the electoral amnesty, Johannes Nagelschmidt by +name, had found it expedient, some weeks later, to muster again on the +Bohemian frontier a part of this rabble which was ready to take part +in any infamy, and to continue on his own account the profession on +the track of which Kohlhaas had put him. This good-for-nothing fellow +called himself a vicegerent of Kohlhaas, partly to inspire with fear +the officers of the law who were after him, and partly, by the use of +familiar methods, to beguile the country people into participating in +his rascalities. With a cleverness which he had learned from his +master, he had it noised abroad that the amnesty had not been kept in +the case of several men who had quietly returned to their +homes--indeed that Kohlhaas himself had, with a faithlessness which +cried aloud to heaven, been arrested on his arrival in Dresden and +placed under a guard. He carried it so far that, in manifestos which +were very similar to those of Kohlhaas, his incendiary band appeared +as an army raised solely for the glory of God and meant to watch over +the observance of the amnesty promised by the Elector. All this, as we +have already said, was done by no means for the glory of God nor out +of attachment for Kohlhaas, whose fate was a matter of absolute +indifference to the outlaws, but in order to enable them, under cover +of such dissimulation, to burn and plunder with the greater ease and +impunity. + +When the first news of this reached Dresden the knights could not +conceal their joy over the occurrence, which lent an entirely +different aspect to the whole matter. With wise and displeased +allusions they recalled the mistake which had been made when, in spite +of their urgent and repeated warnings, an amnesty had been granted +Kohlhaas, as if those who had been in favor of it had had the +deliberate intention of giving to miscreants of all kinds the signal +to follow in his footsteps. Not content with crediting Nagelschmidt's +pretext that he had taken up arms merely to lend support and security +to his oppressed master, they even expressed the decided opinion that +his whole course was nothing but an enterprise contrived by Kohlhaas +in order to frighten the government, and to hasten and insure the +rendering of a verdict, which, point for point, should satisfy his mad +obstinacy. Indeed the Cup-bearer, Sir Hinz, went so far as to declare +to some hunting-pages and courtiers who had gathered round him after +dinner in the Elector's antechamber that the breaking up of the +marauding band in Lützen had been but a cursed pretense. He was very +merry over the Lord High Chancellor's alleged love of justice; by +cleverly connecting various circumstances he proved that the band was +still extant in the forests of the Electorate and was only waiting for +a signal from the horse-dealer to break out anew with fire and sword. + +Prince Christiern of Meissen, very much displeased at this turn in +affairs, which threatened to fleck his sovereign's honor in the most +painful manner, went immediately to the palace to confer with the +Elector. He saw quite clearly that it would be to the interest of the +knights to ruin Kohlhaas, if possible, on the ground of new crimes, +and he begged the Elector to give him permission to have an immediate +judicial examination of the horse-dealer. Kohlhaas, somewhat +astonished at being conducted to the Government Office by a constable, +appeared with his two little boys, Henry and Leopold, in his arms; for +Sternbald, his servant, had arrived the day before with his five +children from Mecklenburg, where they had been staying. When Kohlhaas +had started to leave for the Government Office the two boys had burst +into childish tears, begging him to take them along, and various +considerations too intricate to unravel made him decide to pick them +up and carry them with him to the hearing. Kohlhaas placed the +children beside him, and the Prince, after looking benevolently at +them and asking, with friendly interest, their names and ages, went on +to inform Kohlhaas what liberties Nagelschmidt, his former follower, +was taking in the valleys of the Ore Mountains, and handing him the +latter's so-called mandates he told him to produce whatever he had to +offer for his vindication. Although the horse-dealer was deeply +alarmed by these shameful and traitorous papers, he nevertheless had +little difficulty in explaining satisfactorily to so upright a man as +the Prince the groundlessness of the accusations brought against him +on this score. Besides the fact that, so far as he could observe, he +did not, as the matter now stood, need any help as yet from a third +person in bringing about the decision of his lawsuit, which was +proceeding most favorably, some papers which he had with him and +showed to the Prince made it appear highly improbable that +Nagelschmidt should be inclined to render him help of that sort, for, +shortly before the dispersion of the band in Lützen, he had been on +the point of having the fellow hanged for a rape committed in the +open country, and other rascalities. Only the appearance of the +electoral amnesty had saved Nagelschmidt, as it had severed all +relations between them, and on the next day they had parted as mortal +enemies. + +Kohlhaas, with the Prince's approval of the idea, sat down and wrote a +letter to Nagelschmidt in which he declared that the latter's pretense +of having taken the field in order to maintain the amnesty which had +been violated with regard to him and his band, was a disgraceful and +vicious fabrication. He told him that, on his arrival in Dresden, he +had neither been imprisoned nor handed over to a guard, also that his +lawsuit was progressing exactly as he wished, and, as a warning for +the rabble who had gathered around Nagelschmidt, he gave him over to +the full vengeance of the law for the outrages which he had committed +in the Ore Mountains after the publication of the amnesty. Some +portions of the criminal prosecution which the horse-dealer had +instituted against him in the castle at Lützen on account of the +above-mentioned disgraceful acts, were also appended to the letter to +enlighten the people concerning the good-for-nothing fellow, who even +at that time had been destined for the gallows, and, as already +stated, had only been saved by the edict issued by the Elector. In +consequence of this letter the Prince appeased Kohlhaas' displeasure +at the suspicion which, of necessity, they had been obliged to express +in this hearing; he went on to declare that, while he remained in +Dresden, the amnesty granted him should not be violated in any way; +then, after presenting to the boys some fruit that was on his table, +he shook hands with them once more, saluted Kohlhaas, and dismissed +him. + +The Lord High Chancellor, who nevertheless recognized the danger that +was threatening the horse-dealer, did his utmost to bring his lawsuit +to an end before it should be complicated and confused by new +developments; this, however, was exactly what the diplomatic knights +desired and aimed at. Instead of silently acknowledging their guilt, +as at first, and obtaining merely a less severe sentence, they now +began with pettifogging and crafty subterfuges to deny this guilt +itself entirely. Sometimes they pretended that the black horses +belonging to Kohlhaas had been detained at Tronka Castle on the +arbitrary authority of the castellan and the steward, and that the +Squire had known little, if anything, of their actions. At other times +they declared that, even on their arrival at the castle, the animals +had been suffering from a violent and dangerous cough, and, in +confirmation of the fact, they referred to witnesses whom they pledged +themselves to produce. Forced to withdraw these arguments after many +long-drawn-out investigations and explanations, they even cited an +electoral edict of twelve years before, in which the importation of +horses from Brandenburg into Saxony had actually been forbidden, on +account of a plague among the cattle. This circumstance, according to +them, made it as clear as day that the Squire not only had the +authority, but also was under obligation, to hold up the horses that +Kohlhaas had brought across the border. Kohlhaas, meanwhile, had +bought back his farm at Kohlhaasenbrück from the honest bailiff, in +return for a small compensation for the loss sustained. He wished, +apparently in connection with the legal settlement of this business, +to leave Dresden for some days and return to his home, in which +determination, however, the above-mentioned matter of business, +imperative as it may actually have been on account of sowing the +winter crops, undoubtedly played less part than the intention of +testing his position under such unusual and critical circumstances. He +may perhaps also have been influenced by reasons of still another kind +which we will leave to every one who is acquainted with his own heart +to divine. + +In pursuance of this resolve he betook himself to the Lord Chancellor, +leaving behind the guard which had been assigned to him. He carried +with him the letters from the bailiff, and explained that if, as +seemed to be the case, he were not urgently needed in court, he would +like to leave the city and go to Brandenburg for a week or ten days, +within which time he promised to be back again. The Lord High +Chancellor, looking down with a displeased and dubious expression, +replied that he must acknowledge that Kohlhaas' presence was more +necessary just then than ever, as the court, on account of the +prevaricating and tricky tactics of the opposition, required his +statements and explanations at a thousand points that could not be +foreseen. However, when Kohlhaas referred him to his lawyer, who was +well informed concerning the lawsuit, and with modest importunity +persisted in his request, promising to confine his absence to a week, +the Lord Chancellor, after a pause, said briefly, as he dismissed him, +that he hoped that Kohlhaas would apply to Prince Christiern of +Meissen for passports. + +Kohlhaas, who could read the Lord Chancellor's face perfectly, was +only strengthened in his determination. He sat down immediately and, +without giving any reason, asked the Prince of Meissen, as head of the +Government Office, to furnish him passports for a week's journey to +Kohlhaasenbrück and back. In reply to this letter he received a +cabinet order signed by the Governor of the Palace, Baron Siegfried +Wenk, to the effect that his request for passports to Kohlhaasenbrück +would be laid before his serene highness the Elector, and as soon as +his gracious consent had been received the passports would be sent to +him. When Kohlhaas inquired of his lawyer how the cabinet order came +to be signed by a certain Baron, Siegfried Wenk, and not by Prince +Christiern of Meissen to whom he had applied, he was told that the +Prince had set out for his estates three days before, and during his +absence the affairs of the Government Office had been put in the hands +of the Governor of the Palace, Baron Siegfried Wenk, a cousin of the +gentleman of the same name who has been already mentioned. + +Kohlhaas, whose heart was beginning to beat uneasily amid all these +complications, waited several days for the decision concerning his +petition which had been laid before the person of the sovereign with +such a surprising amount of formality. A week passed, however, and +more than a week, without the arrival of this decision; nor had +judgment been pronounced by the Tribunal, although it had been +definitely promised him. Finally, on the twelfth day, Kohlhaas, firmly +resolved to force the government to proclaim its intentions toward +him, let them be what they would, sat down and, in an urgent request, +once more asked the Government Office for the desired passports. On +the evening of the following day, which had likewise passed without +the expected answer, he was walking up and down, thoughtfully +considering his position and especially the amnesty procured for him +by Dr. Luther, when, on approaching the window of his little back +room, he was astonished not to see the soldiers in the little +out-building on the courtyard which he had designated as quarters for +the guard assigned him by the Prince of Meissen at the time of his +arrival. He called Thomas, the old porter, to him and asked what it +meant. The latter answered with a sigh, "Sir, something is wrong! The +soldiers, of whom there are more today than usual, distributed +themselves around the whole house when it began to grow dark; two with +shield and spear are standing in the street before the front door, two +are at the back door in the garden, and two others are lying on a +truss of straw in the vestibule and say that they are going to sleep +there." + +Kohlhaas grew pale and turned away, adding that it really did not +matter, provided they were still there, and that when Thomas went down +into the corridor he should place a light so that the soldiers could +see. Then he opened the shutter of the front window under the pretext +of emptying a vessel, and convinced himself of the truth of the +circumstance of which the old man had informed him, for just at that +moment the guard was actually being changed without a sound, a +precaution which had never before entered any one's head as long as +the arrangement had existed. After which, Kohlhaas, having made up his +mind immediately what he would do on the morrow, went to bed, though, +to be sure, he felt little desire to sleep. For nothing in the course +of the government with which he was dealing displeased him more than +this outward form of justice, while in reality it was violating in his +case the amnesty promised him, and in case he were to be considered +really a prisoner--as could no longer be doubted--he intended to wring +from the government the definite and straightforward statement that +such was the case. + +In accordance with this plan, at earliest dawn he had Sternbald, his +groom, harness his wagon and drive up to the door, intending, as he +explained, to drive to Lockwitz to see the steward, an old +acquaintance of his, who had met him a few days before in Dresden and +had invited him and his children to visit him some time. The soldiers, +who, putting their heads together, had watched the stir which these +preparations were causing in the household, secretly sent off one of +their number to the city and, a few minutes later, a government clerk +appeared at the head of several constables and went into the house +opposite, pretending to have some business there. Kohlhaas, who was +occupied in dressing his boys, likewise noticed the commotion and +intentionally kept the wagon waiting in front of the house longer than +was really necessary. As soon as he saw that the arrangements of the +police were completed, without paying any attention to them he came +out before the house with his children. He said, in passing, to the +group of soldiers standing in the doorway that they did not need to +follow him; then he lifted the boys into the wagon and kissed and +comforted the weeping little girls who, in obedience to his orders, +were to remain behind with the daughter of the old porter. He had no +sooner climbed up on the wagon himself than the government clerk, with +the constables who accompanied him, stepped up from the opposite +house and asked where he was going. To the answer of Kohlhaas that he +was going to Lockwitz to see his friend, the steward, who a few days +before had invited him and his two boys to visit him in the country, +the clerk replied that in that case Kohlhaas must wait a few moments, +as some mounted soldiers would accompany him in obedience to the order +of the Prince of Meissen. From his seat on the wagon Kohlhaas asked +smilingly whether he thought that his life would not be safe in the +house of a friend who had offered to entertain him at his table for a +day. + +The official answered in a pleasant, joking way that the danger was +certainly not very great, adding that the soldiers were not to +incommode him in any way. Kohlhaas replied, seriously, that on his +arrival in Dresden the Prince of Meissen had left it to his own choice +whether he would make use of the guard or not, and as the clerk seemed +surprised at this circumstance and with carefully chosen phrases +reminded him that he had employed the guard during the whole time of +his presence in the city, the horse-dealer related to him the incident +which had led to the placing of the soldiers in his house. The clerk +assured him that the orders of the Governor of the Palace, Baron Wenk, +who was at that moment head of the police force, made it his duty to +watch over Kohlhaas' person continually, and begged him, if he would +not consent to the escort, to go to the Government Office himself so +as to correct the mistake which must exist in the matter. Kohlhaas +threw a significant glance at the clerk and, determined to put an end +to the matter by hook or by crook, said that he would do so. With a +beating heart he got down from the wagon, had the porter carry the +children back into the corridor, and while his servant remained before +the house with the wagon, Kohlhaas went off to the Government Office, +accompanied by the clerk and his guard. + +It happened that the Governor of the Palace, Baron Wenk, was busy at +the moment inspecting a band of Nagelschmidt's followers who had been +captured in the neighborhood of Leipzig and brought to Dresden the +previous evening. The knights who were with the Governor were just +questioning the fellows about a great many things which the government +was anxious to learn from them, when the horse-dealer entered the room +with his escort. The Baron, as soon as he caught sight of Kohlhaas, +went up to him and asked him what he wanted, while the knights grew +suddenly silent and interrupted the interrogation of the prisoners. +When Kohlhaas had respectfully submitted to him his purpose of going +to dine with the steward at Lockwitz, and expressed the wish to be +allowed to leave behind the soldiers of whom he had no need, the +Baron, changing color and seeming to swallow some words of a different +nature, answered that Kohlhaas would do well to stay quietly at home +and to postpone for the present the feast at the Lockwitz steward's. +With that he turned to the clerk, thus cutting short the whole +conversation, and told him that the order which he had given him with +regard to this man held good, and that the latter must not leave the +city unless accompanied by six mounted soldiers. + +Kohlhaas asked whether he were a prisoner, and whether he should +consider that the amnesty which had been solemnly promised to him +before the eyes of the whole world had been broken. At which the +Baron, his face turning suddenly a fiery red, wheeled around and, +stepping close up to him and looking him in the eyes, answered, "Yes! +Yes! Yes!" Then he turned his back upon him and, leaving Kohlhaas +standing there, returned to Nagelschmidt's followers. + +At this Kohlhaas left the room, and although he realized that the +steps he had taken had rendered much more difficult the only means of +rescue that remained, namely, flight, he nevertheless was glad he had +done as he had, since he was now, on his part, likewise released from +obligation to observe the conditions of the amnesty. When he reached +home he had the horses unharnessed, and, very sad and shaken, went to +his room accompanied by the government clerk. While this man, in a way +which aroused the horse-dealer's disgust, assured him that it must all +be due to a misunderstanding which would shortly be cleared up, the +constables, at a sign from him, bolted all the exits which led from +the house into the courtyard. At the same time the clerk assured +Kohlhaas that the main entrance at the front of the house still +remained open and that he could use it as he pleased. + +Nagelschmidt, meanwhile, had been so hard pushed on all sides by +constables and soldiers in the woods of the Ore Mountains, that, +entirely deprived, as he was, of the necessary means of carrying +through a rôle of the kind which he had undertaken, he hit upon the +idea of inducing Kohlhaas to take sides with him in reality. As a +traveler passing that way had informed him fairly accurately of the +status of Kohlhaas' lawsuit in Dresden, he believed that, in spite of +the open enmity which existed between them, he could persuade the +horse-dealer to enter into a new alliance with him. He therefore sent +off one of his men to him with a letter, written in almost unreadable +German, to the effect that if he would come to Altenburg and resume +command of the band which had gathered there from the remnants of his +former troops who had been dispersed, he, Nagelschmidt, was ready to +assist him to escape from his imprisonment in Dresden by furnishing +him with horses, men, and money. At the same time he promised Kohlhaas +that, in the future, he would be more obedient and in general better +and more orderly than he had been before; and to prove his +faithfulness and devotion he pledged himself to come in person to the +outskirts of Dresden in order to effect Kohlhaas' deliverance from his +prison. + +The fellow charged with delivering this letter had the bad luck, in a +village close to Dresden, to be seized with a violent fit, such as he +had been subject to from childhood. In this situation, the letter +which he was carrying in his vest was found by the persons who came to +his assistance; the man himself, as soon as he had recovered, was +arrested and transported to the Government Office under guard, +accompanied by a large crowd of people. As soon as the Governor of the +Palace, Wenk, had read this letter, he went immediately to the palace +to see the Elector; here he found present also the President of the +Chancery of State, Count Kallheim, and the lords Kunz and Hinz, the +former of whom had recovered from his wounds. These gentlemen were of +the opinion that Kohlhaas should be arrested without delay and brought +to trial on the charge of secret complicity with Nagelschmidt. They +went on to demonstrate that such a letter could not have been written +unless there had been preceding letters written by the horse-dealer, +too, and that it would inevitably result in a wicked and criminal +union of their forces for the purpose of plotting fresh iniquities. + +The Elector steadfastly refused to violate, merely on the ground of +this letter, the safe-conduct he had solemnly promised to Kohlhaas. He +was more inclined to believe that Nagelschmidt's letter made it rather +probable that no previous connection had existed between them, and all +he would do to clear up the matter was to assent, though only after +long hesitation, to the President's proposition to have the letter +delivered to Kohlhaas by the man whom Nagelschmidt had sent, just as +though he had not been arrested, and see whether Kohlhaas would answer +it. In accordance with this plan the man, who had been thrown into +prison, was taken to the Government Office the next morning. The +Governor of the Palace gave him back the letter and, promising him +freedom and the remission of the punishment which he had incurred, +commanded him to deliver the letter to the horse-dealer as though +nothing had happened. As was to be expected, the fellow lent himself +to this low trick without hesitation. In apparently mysterious fashion +he gained admission to Kohlhaas' room under the pretext of having +crabs to sell, with which, in reality, the government clerk had +supplied him in the market. Kohlhaas, who read the letter while the +children were playing with the crabs, would certainly have seized the +imposter by the collar and handed him over to the soldiers standing +before his door, had the circumstances been other than they were. But +since, in the existing state of men's minds, even this step was +likewise capable of an equivocal interpretation, and as he was fully +convinced that nothing in the world could rescue him from the affair +in which he was entangled, be gazed sadly into the familiar face of +the fellow, asked him where he lived, and bade him return in a few +hours' time, when he would inform him of his decision in regard to his +master. He told Sternbald, who happened to enter the door, to buy some +crabs from the man in the room, and when this business was concluded +and both men had gone away without recognizing each other, Kohlhaas +sat down and wrote a letter to Nagelschmidt to the following effect: +"First, that he accepted his proposition concerning the leadership of +his band in Altenburg, and that accordingly, in order to free him from +the present arrest in which he was held with his five children, +Nagelschmidt should send him a wagon with two horses to Neustadt near +Dresden. Also that, to facilitate progress, he would need another team +of two horses on the road to Wittenberg, which way, though roundabout, +was the only one he could take to come to him, for reasons which it +would require too much time to explain. He thought that he would be +able to win over by bribery the soldiers who were guarding him, but in +case force were necessary he would like to know that he could count on +the presence of a couple of stout-hearted, capable, and well-armed men +in the suburb of Neustadt. To defray the expenses connected with all +these preparations, he was sending Nagelschmidt by his follower a roll +of twenty gold crowns concerning the expenditure of which he would +settle with him after the affair was concluded. For the rest, +Nagelschmidt's presence being unnecessary, he would ask him not to +come in person to Dresden to assist at his rescue--nay, rather, he +gave him the definite order to remain behind in Altenburg in +provisional command of the band which could not be left without a +leader." + +When the man returned toward evening, he delivered this letter to him, +rewarded him liberally, and impressed upon him that he must take good +care of it. + +Kohlhaas' intention was to go to Hamburg with his five children and +there to take ship for the Levant, the East Indies, or the most +distant land where the blue sky stretched above people other than +those he knew. For his heart, bowed down by grief, had renounced the +hope of ever seeing the black horses fattened, even apart from the +reluctance that he felt in making common cause with Nagelschmidt to +that end. + +Hardly had the fellow delivered this answer of the horse-dealer's to +the Governor of the Palace when the Lord High Chancellor was deposed, +the President, Count Kallheim, was appointed Chief Justice of the +Tribunal in his stead, and Kohlhaas was arrested by a special order of +the Elector, heavily loaded with chains, and thrown into the city +tower. He was brought to trial upon the basis of this letter, which +was posted at every street-corner of the city. When a councilor held +it up before Kohlhaas at the bar of the Tribunal and asked whether he +acknowledged the handwriting, he answered, "Yes;" but to the question +as to whether he had anything to say in his defense, he looked down at +the ground and replied, "No." He was therefore condemned to be +tortured with red-hot pincers by knacker's men, to be drawn and +quartered, and his body to be burned between the wheel and the +gallows. + +Thus stood matters with poor Kohlhaas in Dresden when the Elector of +Brandenburg appeared to rescue him from the clutches of arbitrary, +superior power, and, in a note laid before the Chancery of State in +Dresden, claimed him as a subject of Brandenburg. For the honest City +Governor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, during a walk on the banks of the +Spree, had acquainted the Elector with the story of this strange and +irreprehensible man, on which occasion, pressed by the questions of +the astonished sovereign, he could not avoid mentioning the blame +which lay heavy upon the latter's own person through the unwarranted +actions of his Arch-Chancellor, Count Siegfried von Kallheim. The +Elector was extremely indignant about the matter and after he had +called the Arch-Chancellor to account and found that the relationship +which he bore to the house of the Tronkas was to blame for it all, he +deposed Count Kallheim at once, with more than one token of his +displeasure, and appointed Sir Heinrich von Geusau to be +Arch-Chancellor in his stead. + +Now it so happened that, just at that time, the King of Poland, being +at odds with the House of Saxony, for what occasion we do not know, +approached the Elector of Brandenburg with repeated and urgent +arguments to induce him to make common cause with them against the +House of Saxony, and, in consequence of this, the Arch-Chancellor, Sir +Geusau, who was not unskilful in such matters, might very well hope +that, without imperiling the peace of the whole state to a greater +extent than consideration for an individual warrants, he would now be +able to fulfil his sovereign's desire to secure justice for Kohlhaas +at any cost whatever. + +Therefore the Arch-Chancellor did not content himself with demanding, +on the score of wholly arbitrary procedure, displeasing to God and +man, that Kohlhaas should be unconditionally and immediately surrendered, +so that, if guilty of a crime, he might be tried according to the laws +of Brandenburg on charges which the Dresden Court might bring against him +through an attorney at Berlin; but Sir Heinrich von Geusau even went so +far as himself to demand passports for an attorney whom the Elector of +Brandenburg wished to send to Dresden in order to secure justice for +Kohlhaas against Squire Wenzel Tronka on account of the black horses +which had been taken from him on Saxon territory and other flagrant +instances of ill-usage and acts of violence. The Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, +in the shifting of public offices in Saxony, had been appointed President +of the State Chancery, and, hard pressed as he was, desired, for a +variety of reasons, not to offend the Court of Berlin. He therefore +answered in the name of his sovereign, who had been very greatly cast +down by the note he had received, that they wondered at the unfriendliness +and unreasonableness which had prompted the government of Brandenburg to +contest the right of the Dresden Court to judge Kohlhaas according to +their laws for the crimes which he had committed in the land, as it was +known to all the world that the latter owned a considerable piece of +property in the capital, and he did not himself dispute his qualification +as a Saxon citizen. + +But as the King of Poland was already assembling an army of five +thousand men on the frontier of Saxony to fight for his claims, and as +the Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, declared that +Kohlhaasenbrück, the place after which the horse-dealer was named, was +situated in Brandenburg, and that they would consider the execution of +the sentence of death which had been pronounced upon him to be a +violation of international law, the Elector of Saxony, upon the advice +of the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz himself, who wished to back out of the +affair, summoned Prince Christiern of Meissen from his estate, and +decided, after a few words with this sagacious nobleman, to surrender +Kohlhaas to the Court of Berlin in accordance with their demand. + +The Prince, who, although very much displeased with the unseemly +blunders which had been committed, was forced to take over the conduct +of the Kohlhaas affair at the wish of his hard-pressed master, asked +the Elector what charge he now wished to have lodged against the +horse-dealer in the Supreme Court at Berlin. As they could not refer +to Kohlhaas' fatal letter to Nagelschmidt because of the questionable +and obscure circumstances under which it had been written, nor +mention the former plundering and burning because of the edict in +which the same had been pardoned, the Elector determined to lay before +the Emperor's Majesty at Vienna a report concerning the armed invasion +of Saxony by Kohlhaas, to make complaint concerning the violation of +the public peace established by the Emperor, and to solicit His +Majesty, since he was of course not bound by any amnesty, to call +Kohlhaas to account therefor before the Court Tribunal at Berlin +through an attorney of the Empire. + +A week later the horse-dealer, still in chains, was packed into a +wagon by the Knight Friedrich of Malzahn, whom the Elector of +Brandenburg had sent to Dresden at the head of six troopers; and, +together with his five children, who at his request had been collected +from various foundling hospitals and orphan asylums, was transported +to Berlin. + +It so happened that the Elector of Saxony, accompanied by the +Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, and his wife, Lady Heloise, daughter of the +High Bailiff and sister of the President, not to mention other +brilliant ladies and gentlemen, hunting-pages and courtiers, had gone +to Dahme at the invitation of the High Bailiff, Count Aloysius of +Kallheim, who at that time possessed a large estate on the border of +Saxony, and, to entertain the Elector, had organized a large stag-hunt +there. Under the shelter of tents gaily decorated with pennons, +erected on a hill over against the highroad, the whole company, still +covered with the dust of the hunt, was sitting at table, served by +pages, while lively music sounded from the trunk of an oak-tree, when +Kohlhaas with his escort of troopers came riding slowly along the road +from Dresden. The sudden illness of one of Kohlhaas' delicate young +children had obliged the Knight of Malzahn, who was his escort, to +delay three whole days in Herzberg. Having to answer for this act only +to the Prince whom he served, the Knight had not thought it necessary +to inform the government of Saxony of the delay. The Elector, with +throat half bare, his plumed hat decorated with sprigs of fir, as is +the way of hunters, was seated beside Lady Heloise, who had been the +first love of his early youth. The charm of the fête which surrounded +him having put him in good humor, he said, "Let us go and offer this +goblet of wine to the unfortunate man, whoever he may be." + +Lady Heloise, casting an entrancing glance at him, got up at once, +and, plundering the whole table, filled a silver dish which a page +handed her with fruit, cakes, and bread. The entire company had +already left the tent in a body, carrying refreshments of every kind, +when the High Bailiff came toward them and with an embarrassed air +begged them to remain where they were. In answer to the Elector's +disconcerted question as to what had happened that he should show such +confusion, the High Bailiff turned toward the Chamberlain and +answered, stammering, that it was Kohlhaas who was in the wagon. At +this piece of news, which none of the company could understand, as it +was well known that the horse-dealer had set out six days before, the +Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, turning back toward the tent, poured out his +glass of wine on the ground. The Elector, flushing scarlet, set his +glass down on a plate which a page, at a sign from the Chamberlain, +held out to him for this purpose, and while the Knight, Friedrich von +Malzahn, respectfully saluting the company, who were unknown to him, +passed slowly under the tent ropes that were stretched across the +highroad and continued on his way to Dahme, the lords and ladies, at +the invitation of the High Bailiff, returned to the tent without +taking any further notice of the party. As soon as the Elector had sat +down again, the High Bailiff dispatched a messenger secretly to Dahme +intending to have the magistrate of that place see to it that the +horse-dealer continued his journey immediately; but since the Knight +of Malzahn declared positively that, as the day was too far gone, he +intended to spend the night in the place, they had to be content to +lodge Kohlhaas quietly at a farm-house belonging to the magistrate, +which lay off the main road, hidden away among the bushes. + +Now it came about toward evening, when all recollection of the +incident had been driven from the minds of the lords and ladies by the +wine and the abundant dessert they had enjoyed, that the High Bailiff +proposed they should again lie in wait for a herd of stags which had +shown itself in the vicinity. The whole company took up the suggestion +joyfully, and after they had provided themselves with guns went off in +pairs, over ditches and hedges, into the near-by forest. Thus it was +that the Elector and Lady Heloise, who was hanging on his arm in order +to watch the sport, were, to their great astonishment, led by a +messenger who had been placed at their service, directly across the +court of the house in which Kohlhaas and the Brandenburg troopers were +lodged. When Lady Heloise was informed of this she cried, "Your +Highness, come!" and playfully concealing inside his silken vest the +chain which hung around his neck she added, "Before the crowd follows +us let us slip into the farm-house and have a look at the singular man +who is spending the night here." The Elector blushed and seized her +hand exclaiming, "Heloise! What are you thinking of?" But as she, +looking at him with amazement, pulled him along and assured him that +no one would ever recognize him in the hunting-costume he had on, and +as, moreover, at this very moment a couple of hunting-pages who had +already satisfied their curiosity came out of the house, and announced +that in truth, on account of an arrangement made by the High Bailiff, +neither the Knight nor the horse-dealer knew what company was +assembled in the neighborhood of Dahme, the Elector pulled his hat +down over his eyes with a smile and said, "Folly, thou rulest the +world, and thy throne is a beautiful woman's mouth!" + +Kohlhaas was sitting just then on a bundle of straw with his back +against the wall, feeding bread and milk to his child who had been +taken ill at Herzberg, when Lady Heloise and the Elector entered the +farm-house to visit him. To start the conversation, Lady Heloise asked +him who he was and what was the matter with the child; also what +crime he had committed and where they were taking him with such an +escort. Kohlhaas doffed his leather cap to her and, continuing his +occupation, made laconic but satisfactory answers to all these +questions. The Elector, who was standing behind the hunting-pages, +remarked a little leaden locket hanging on a silk string around the +horse-dealer's neck, and, since no better topic of conversation +offered itself, he asked him what it signified and what was in it. +Kohlhaas answered, "Oh, yes, worshipful Sir, this locket!" and with +that he slipped it from his neck, opened it, and took out a little +piece of paper with writing on it, sealed with a wafer. "There is a +strange tale connected with this locket. It may be some seven months +ago, on the very day after my wife's funeral--and, as you perhaps +know, I had left Kohlhaasenbrück in order to get possession of Squire +Tronka, who had done me great wrong--that in the market-town of +Jüterbock, through which my expedition led me, the Elector of Saxony +and the Elector of Brandenburg had met to discuss I know not what +matter. As they had settled it to their liking shortly before evening, +they were walking in friendly conversation through the streets of the +town in order to take a look at the annual fair which was just being +held there with much merry-making. They came upon a gipsy who was +sitting on a stool, telling from the calendar the fortunes of the +crowd that surrounded her. The two sovereigns asked her jokingly if +she did not have something pleasing to reveal to them too? I had just +dismounted with my troop at an inn, and happened to be present in the +square where this incident occurred, but as I was standing at the +entrance of a church, behind all the people, I could not hear what the +strange woman said to the two lords. The people began to whisper to +one another laughingly that she did not impart her knowledge to every +one, and to crowd together to see the spectacle which was preparing, +so that I, really more to make room for the curious than out of +curiosity on my part, climbed on a bench behind me which was carved +in the entrance of the church. From this point of vantage I could see +with perfect ease the two sovereigns and the old woman, who was +sitting on the stool before them apparently scribbling something down. +But hardly had I caught sight of them, when suddenly she got up, +leaning on her crutches, and, gazing around at the people, fixed her +eye on me, who had never exchanged a word with her nor ever in all my +life consulted her art. Pushing her way over to me through the dense +crowd, she said, 'There! If the gentleman wishes to know his fortune, +he may ask you about it!' And with these words, your Worship, she +stretched out her thin bony hands to me and gave me this paper. All +the people turned around in my direction, as I said, amazed, 'Grandam, +what in the world is this you are giving me?' After mumbling a lot of +inaudible nonsense, amid which, however, to my great surprise, I made +out my own name, she answered, 'An amulet, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer; +take good care of it; some day it will save your life!'--and vanished. +Well," Kohlhaas continued good-naturedly, "to tell the truth, close as +was the call in Dresden, I did not lose my life; but how I shall fare +in Berlin and whether the charm will help me out there too, the future +must show." + +At these words the Elector seated himself on a bench, and although to +Lady Heloise's frightened question as to what was the matter with him, +he answered, "Nothing, nothing at all!"--yet, before she could spring +forward and catch him in her arms, he had sunk down unconscious to the +floor. + +The Knight of Malzahn who entered the room at this moment on some +errand, exclaimed, "Good heavens, what is the matter with the +gentleman!" Lady Heloise cried, "Bring some water!" The hunting-pages +raised the Elector and carried him to a bed in the next room, and the +consternation reached its height when the Chamberlain, who had been +summoned by a page, declared, after repeated vain efforts to restore +him to consciousness, that he showed every sign of having been struck +by apoplexy. The Cup-bearer sent a mounted messenger to Luckau for the +doctor, and then, as the Elector opened his eyes, the High Bailiff had +him placed in a carriage and transported at a walk to his +hunting-castle near-by; this journey, however, caused two more +fainting spells after he had arrived there. Not until late the next +morning, on the arrival of the doctor from Luckau, did he recover +somewhat, though showing definite symptoms of an approaching nervous +fever. As soon as he had returned to consciousness he raised himself +on his elbow, and his very first question was, "Where is Kohlhaas?" +The Chamberlain, misunderstanding the question, said, as he took his +hand, that he might set his heart at rest on the subject of that +horrible man, as the latter, after that strange and incomprehensible +incident, had by his order remained behind in the farm-house at Dahme +with the escort from Brandenburg. Assuring the Elector of his most +lively sympathy, and protesting that he had most bitterly reproached +his wife for her inexcusable indiscretion in bringing about a meeting +between him and this man, the Chamberlain went on to ask what could +have occurred during the interview to affect his master so strangely +and profoundly. + +The Elector answered that he was obliged to confess to him that the +sight of an insignificant piece of paper, which the man carried about +with him in a leaden locket, was to blame for the whole unpleasant +incident which had befallen him. To explain the circumstance, he added +a variety of other things which the Chamberlain could not understand, +then suddenly, clasping the latter's hand in his own, he assured him +that the possession of this paper was of the utmost importance to +himself and begged Sir Kunz to mount immediately, ride to Dahme, and +purchase the paper for him from the horse-dealer at any price. The +Chamberlain, who had difficulty in concealing his embarrassment, +assured him that, if this piece of paper had any value for him, +nothing in the world was more necessary than to conceal the fact from +Kohlhaas, for if the latter should receive an indiscreet intimation of +it, all the riches the Elector possessed would not be sufficient to +buy it from the hands of this vindictive fellow, whose passion for +revenge was insatiable. To calm his master he added that they must try +to find another method, and that, as the miscreant probably was not +especially attached to it for its own sake, perhaps, by using +stratagem, they might get possession of the paper, which was of so +much importance to the Elector, through the instrumentality of a third +wholly disinterested person. + +The Elector, wiping away the perspiration, asked if they could not +send immediately to Dahme for this purpose and put a stop to the +horse-dealer's being transported further for the present until, by +some means or other, they had obtained possession of the paper. The +Chamberlain, who could hardly believe his senses, replied that +unhappily, according to all probable calculations, the horse-dealer +must already have left Dahme and be across the border on the soil of +Brandenburg; any attempt to interfere there with his being carried +away, or actually to put a stop to it altogether, would give rise to +difficulties of the most unpleasant and intricate kind, or even to +such as it might perchance be impossible to overcome at all. As the +Elector silently sank back on the pillow with a look of utter despair, +the Chamberlain asked him what the paper contained and by what +surprising and inexplicable chance he knew that the contents concerned +himself. At this, however, the Elector cast several ambiguous glances +at the Chamberlain, whose obligingness he distrusted on this occasion, +and gave no answer. He lay there rigid, with his heart beating +tumultuously, and looked down at the corner of the handkerchief which +he was holding in his hands as if lost in thought. Suddenly he begged +the Chamberlain to call to his room the hunting-page, Stein, an +active, clever young gentleman whom he had often employed before in +affairs of a secret nature, under the pretense that he had some other +business to negotiate with him. + +After he had explained the matter to the hunting-page and impressed +upon him the importance of the paper which was in Kohlhaas' +possession, the Elector asked him whether he wished to win an eternal +right to his friendship by procuring this paper for him before the +horse-dealer reached Berlin. As soon as the page had to some extent +grasped the situation, unusual though it was, he assured his master +that he would serve him to the utmost of his ability. The Elector +therefore charged him to ride after Kohlhaas, and as it would probably +be impossible to approach him with money, Stein should, in a cleverly +conducted conversation, proffer him life and freedom in exchange for +the paper--indeed, if Kohlhaas insisted upon it, he should, though +with all possible caution, give him direct assistance in escaping from +the hands of the Brandenburg troopers who were convoying him, by +furnishing him with horses, men, and money. + +The hunting-page, after procuring as a credential a paper written by +the Elector's own hand, did immediately set out with several men, and +by not sparing the horses' wind he had the good luck to overtake +Kohlhaas in a village on the border, where with his five children and +the Knight of Malzahn he was eating dinner in the open air before the +door of a house. The hunting-page introduced himself to the Knight of +Malzahn as a stranger who was passing by and wished to have a look at +the extraordinary man whom he was escorting. The Knight at once made +him acquainted with Kohlhaas and politely urged him to sit down at the +table, and since Malzahn, busied with the preparations for their +departure, was obliged to keep coming and going continually, and the +troopers were eating their dinner at a table on the other side of the +house, the hunting-page soon found an opportunity to reveal to the +horse-dealer who he was and on what a peculiar mission he had come to +him. + +The horse-dealer already knew the name and rank of the man who, at +sight of the locket in question, had swooned in the farm-house at +Dahme; and to put the finishing touch to the tumult of excitement into +which this discovery had thrown him, he needed only an insight into +the secrets contained in the paper which, for many reasons, he was +determined not to open out of mere curiosity. He answered that, in +consideration of the ungenerous and unprincely treatment he had been +forced to endure in Dresden in return for his complete willingness to +make every possible sacrifice, he would keep the paper. To the +hunting-page's question as to what induced him to make such an +extraordinary refusal when he was offered in exchange nothing less +than life and liberty, Kohlhaas answered, "Noble Sir, if your +sovereign should come to me and say, 'Myself and the whole company of +those who help me wield my sceptre I will destroy--destroy, you +understand, which is, I admit, the dearest wish that my soul +cherishes,' I should nevertheless still refuse to give him the paper +which is worth more to him than life, and should say to him, 'You have +the authority to send me to the scaffold, but I can cause you pain, +and I intend to do so!'" And with these words Kohlhaas, with death +staring him in the face, called a trooper to him and told him to take +a nice bit of food which had been left in the dish. All the rest of +the hour which he spent in the place he acted as though he did not see +the young nobleman who was sitting at the table, and not until he +climbed up on the wagon did he turn around to the hunting-page again +and salute him with a parting glance. + +When the Elector received this news his condition grew so much worse +that for three fateful days the doctor had grave fears for his life, +which was being attacked on so many sides at once. However, thanks to +his naturally good constitution, after several weeks spent in pain on +the sick-bed, he recovered sufficiently, at least, to permit his being +placed in a carriage well supplied with pillows and coverings, and +brought back to Dresden to take up the affairs of government once +more. + +As soon as he had arrived in the city he summoned Prince Christiern +of Meissen and asked him what had been done about dispatching Judge +Eibenmaier, whom the government had thought of sending to Vienna as +its attorney in the Kohlhaas affair, in order to lay a complaint +before his Imperial Majesty concerning the violation of the public +peace proclaimed by the Emperor. + +The Prince answered that the Judge, in conformity with the order the +Elector had left behind on his departure for Dahme, had set out for +Vienna immediately after the arrival of the jurist, Zäuner, whom the +Elector of Brandenburg had sent to Dresden as his attorney in order to +institute legal proceedings against Squire Wenzel Tronka in regard to +the black horses. + +The Elector flushed and walked over to his desk, expressing surprise +at this haste, since, to his certain knowledge, he had made it clear +that because of the necessity for a preliminary consultation with Dr. +Luther, who had procured the amnesty for Kohlhaas, he wished to +postpone the final departure of Eibenmaier until he should give a more +explicit and definite order. At the same time, with an expression of +restrained anger, he tossed about some letters and deeds which were +lying on his desk. The Prince, after a pause during which he stared in +surprise at his master, answered that he was sorry if he had failed to +give him satisfaction in this matter; however, he could show the +decision of the Council of State enjoining him to send off the +attorney at the time mentioned. He added that in the Council of State +nothing at all had been said of a consultation with Dr. Luther; that +earlier in the affair, it would perhaps have been expedient to pay +some regard to this reverend gentleman because of his intervention in +Kohlhaas' behalf; but that this was no longer the case, now that the +promised amnesty had been violated before the eyes of the world and +Kohlhaas had been arrested and surrendered to the Brandenburg courts +to be sentenced and executed. + +The Elector replied that the error committed in dispatching +Eibenmaier was, in fact, not a very serious one; he expressed a wish, +however, that, for the present, the latter should not act in Vienna in +his official capacity as plaintiff for Saxony, but should await +further orders, and begged the Prince to send off to him immediately +by a courier the instructions necessary to this end. + +The Prince answered that, unfortunately, this order came just one day +too late, as Eibenmaier, according to a report which had just arrived +that day, had already acted in his capacity as plaintiff and had +proceeded with the presentation of the complaint at the State Chancery +in Vienna. In answer to the Elector's dismayed question as to how all +this was possible in so short a time, he added that three weeks had +passed since the departure of this man and that the instructions he +had received had charged him to settle the business with all possible +dispatch immediately after his arrival in Vienna. A delay, the Prince +added, would have been all the more inadvisable in this case, as the +Brandenburg attorney, Zäuner, was proceeding against Squire Wenzel +Tronka with the most stubborn persistence and had already petitioned +the court for the provisional removal of the black horses from the +hands of the knacker with a view to their future restoration to good +condition, and, in spite of all the arguments of the opposite side, +had carried his point. + +The Elector, ringing the bell, said, "No matter; it is of no +importance," and turning around again toward the Prince asked +indifferently how other things were going in Dresden and what had +occurred during his absence. Then, incapable of hiding his inner state +of mind, he saluted him with a wave of the hand and dismissed him. + +That very same day the Elector sent him a written demand for all the +official documents concerning Kohlhaas, under the pretext that, on +account of the political importance of the affair, he wished to go +over it himself. As he could not bear to think of destroying the man +from whom alone he could receive information concerning the secrets +contained in the paper, he composed an autograph letter to the +Emperor; in this he affectionately and urgently requested that, for +weighty reasons, which possibly he would explain to him in greater +detail after a little while, he be allowed to withdraw for a time, +until a further decision had been reached, the complaint which +Eibenmaier had entered against Kohlhaas. + +The Emperor, in a note drawn up by the State Chancery, replied that +the change which seemed suddenly to have taken place in the Elector's +mind astonished him exceedingly; that the report which had been +furnished him on the part of Saxony had made the Kohlhaas affair a +matter which concerned the entire Holy Roman Empire; that, in +consequence, he, the Emperor, as head of the same, had felt it his +duty to appear before the house of Brandenburg in this, as plaintiff +in this affair, and that, therefore; since the Emperor's counsel, +Franz Müller, had gone to Berlin in the capacity of attorney in order +to call Kohlhaas to account for the violation of the public peace, the +complaint could in no wise be withdrawn now and the affair must take +its course in conformity with the law. + +This letter completely crushed the Elector and, to his utter dismay, +private communications from Berlin reached him a short time after, +announcing the institution of the lawsuit before the Supreme Court at +Berlin and containing the remark that Kohlhaas, in spite of all the +efforts of the lawyer assigned him, would in all probability end on +the scaffold. The unhappy sovereign determined, therefore, to make one +more effort, and in an autograph letter begged the Elector of +Brandenburg to spare Kohlhaas' life. He alleged as pretext that the +amnesty solemnly promised to this man did not lawfully permit the +execution of a death sentence upon him; he assured the Elector that, +in spite of the apparent severity with which Kohlhaas had been treated +in Saxony, it had never been his intention to allow the latter to die, +and described how wretched he should be if the protection which they +had pretended to be willing to afford the man from Berlin should, by +an unexpected turn of affairs, prove in the end to be more detrimental +to him than if he had remained in Dresden and his affair had been +decided according to the laws of Saxony. + +The Elector of Brandenburg, to whom much of this declaration seemed +ambiguous and obscure, answered that the energy with which the +attorney of his Majesty the Emperor was proceeding made it absolutely +out of the question for him to conform to the wish expressed by the +Elector of Saxony and depart from the strict precepts of the law. He +remarked that the solicitude thus displayed really went too far, +inasmuch as the complaint against Kohlhaas on account of the crimes +which had been pardoned in the amnesty had, as a matter of fact, not +been entered at the Supreme Court at Berlin by him, the sovereign who +had granted the amnesty, but by the supreme head of the Empire who was +in no wise bound thereby. At the same time he represented to him how +necessary it was to make a fearful example of Kohlhaas in view of the +continued outrages of Nagelschmidt, who with unheard-of boldness was +already extending his depredations as far as Brandenburg, and begged +him, in case he refused to be influenced by these considerations, to +apply to His Majesty the Emperor himself, since, if a decree was to be +issued in favor of Kohlhaas, this could only be rendered after a +declaration on his Majesty's part. + +The Elector fell ill again with grief and vexation over all these +unsuccessful attempts, and one morning, when the Chamberlain came to +pay him a visit, he showed him the letters which he had written to the +courts of Vienna and Berlin in the effort to prolong Kohlhaas' life +and thus at least gain time in which to get possession of the paper in +the latter's hands. The Chamberlain threw himself on his knees before +him and begged him by all that he held sacred and dear to tell him +what this paper contained. The Elector bade him bolt the doors of the +room and sit down on the bed beside him, and after he had grasped his +hand and, with a sigh, pressed it to his heart, he began as follows +"Your wife, as I hear, has already told you that the Elector of +Brandenburg and I, on the third day of the conference that we held at +Jüterbock, came upon a gipsy, and the Elector, lively as he is by +nature, determined to destroy by a jest in the presence of all the +people the fame of this fantastic woman, whose art had, +inappropriately enough, just been the topic of conversation at dinner. +He walked up to her table with his arms crossed and demanded from her +a sign--one that could be put to the test that very day--to prove the +truth of the fortune she was about to tell him, pretending that, even +if she were the Roman Sibyl herself, he could not believe her words +without it. The woman, hastily taking our measure from head to foot, +said that the sign would be that, even before we should leave, the big +horned roebuck which the gardener's son was raising in the park, would +come to meet us in the market-place where we were standing at that +moment. Now you must know that this roebuck, which was destined for +the Dresden kitchen, was kept behind lock and key in an inclosure +fenced in with high boards and shaded by the oak-trees of the park; +and since, moreover, on account of other smaller game and birds, the +park in general and also the garden leading to it, were kept carefully +locked, it was absolutely impossible to understand how the animal +could carry out this strange prediction and come to meet us in the +square where we were standing. Nevertheless the Elector, afraid that +some trick might be behind it and determined for the sake of the joke +to give the lie once and for all to everything else that she might +say, sent to the castle, after a short consultation with me, and +ordered that the roebuck be instantly killed and prepared for the +table within the next few days. Then he turned back to the woman +before whom this matter had been transacted aloud, and said, 'Well, go +ahead! What have you to disclose to me of the future?' The woman, +looking at his hand, said, 'Hail, my Elector and Sovereign! Your Grace +will reign for a long time, the house from which you spring will long +endure, and your descendants will be great and glorious and will come +to exceed in power all the other princes and sovereigns of the world.' + +"The Elector, after a pause in which he looked thoughtfully at the +woman, said in an undertone, as he took a step toward me, that he was +almost sorry now that he had sent off a messenger to ruin the +prophecy; and while amid loud rejoicing the money rained down in heaps +into the woman's lap from the hands of the knights who followed the +Elector, the latter, after feeling in his pocket and adding a gold +piece on his own account, asked if the salutation which she was about +to about to reveal to me also had such a silvery sound as his. The +woman opened a box that stood beside her and in a leisurely, precise +way arranged the money in it according to kind and quantity; then she +closed it again, shaded her eyes with her hand as if the sun annoyed +her, and looked at me. I repeated the question I had asked her and, +while she examined my hand, I added jokingly to the Elector, 'To me, +so it seems, she has nothing really agreeable to announce!' At that +she seized her crutches, raised herself slowly with their aid from her +stool, and, pressing close to me with her hands held before her +mysteriously, she whispered audibly in my ear, 'No!' 'Is that so?' I +asked confused, and drew back a step before the figure, who with a +look cold and lifeless as though from eyes of marble, seated herself +once more on the stool behind her; 'from what quarter does danger +menace my house?' The woman, taking a piece of charcoal and a paper in +her hand and crossing her knees, asked whether she should write it +down for me; and as I, really embarrassed, though only because under +the existing circumstances there was nothing else for me to do, +answered, 'Yes, do so,' she replied, 'Very well! Three things I will +write down for you--the name of the last ruler of your house, the year +in which he will lose his throne, and the name of the man who through +the power of arms will seize it for himself.' Having done this before +the eyes of all the people she arose, sealed the paper with a wafer, +which she moistened in her withered mouth, and pressed upon it a +leaden seal ring which she wore on her middle finger. And as I, +curious beyond all words, as you can well imagine, was about to seize +the paper, she said, 'Not so, Your Highness!' and turned and raised +one of her crutches; 'from that man there, the one with the plumed +hat, standing on the bench at the entrance of the church behind all +the people--from him you shall redeem it, if it so please you!' And +with these words, before I had clearly grasped what she was saying, +she left me standing in the square, speechless with astonishment, and, +clapping shut the box that stood behind her and slinging it over her +back, she disappeared in the crowd of people surrounding us, so that I +could no longer watch what she was doing. But at this moment, to my +great consolation, I must admit, there appeared the knight whom the +Elector had sent to the castle, and reported, with a smile hovering on +his lips, that the roebuck had been killed and dragged off to the +kitchen by two hunters before his very eyes. The Elector, gaily +placing his arm in mine with the intention of leading me away from the +square, said, 'Well then, the prophecy was a commonplace swindle and +not worth the time and money which it has cost us!' But how great was +our astonishment when, even before he had finished speaking, a cry +went up around the whole square, and the eyes of all turned toward a +large butcher's dog trotting along from the castle yard. In the +kitchen he had seized the roebuck by the neck as a fair prize, and, +pursued by men-servants and maids, dropped the animal on the ground +three paces in front of us. Thus indeed the woman's prophecy, which +was the pledge for the truth of all that she had uttered, was +fulfilled, and the roebuck, although dead to be sure, had come to the +market-place to meet us. The lightning which falls from heaven on a +winter's day cannot annihilate more completely than this sight did me, +and my first endeavor, as soon as I had excused myself from the +company which surrounded me, was to discover immediately the +whereabouts of the man with the plumed hat whom the woman had pointed +out to me; but none of my people, though sent out on a three days' +continuous search, could give me even the remotest kind of information +concerning him. And then, friend Kunz, a few weeks ago in the +farm-house at Dahme, I saw the man with my own eyes!" + +With these words he let go of the Chamberlain's hand and, wiping away +the perspiration, sank back again on the couch. The Chamberlain, who +considered it a waste of effort to attempt to contradict the Elector's +opinion of the incident or to try to make him adopt his own view of +the matter, begged him by all means to try to get possession of the +paper and afterward to leave the fellow to his fate. But the Elector +answered that he saw absolutely no way of doing so, although the +thought of having to do without it or perhaps even seeing all +knowledge of it perish with this man, brought him to the verge of +misery and despair. When asked by his friend whether he had made any +attempts to discover the person of the gipsy-woman herself, the +Elector replied that the Government Office, in consequence of an order +which he had issued under a false pretext, had been searching in vain +for this woman throughout the Electorate; in view of these facts, for +reasons, however, which he refused to explain in detail, he doubted +whether she could ever be discovered in Saxony. + +Now it happened that the Chamberlain wished to go to Berlin on account +of several considerable pieces of property in the Neumark of +Brandenburg which his wife had fallen heir to from the estate of the +Arch-Chancellor, Count Kallheim, who had died shortly after being +deposed. As Sir Kunz really loved the Elector, he asked, after +reflecting for a short time, whether the latter would leave the matter +to his discretion; and when his master, pressing his hand +affectionately to his breast, answered, "Imagine that you are myself, +and secure the paper for me!" the Chamberlain turned over his affairs +to a subordinate, hastened his departure by several days, left his +wife behind, and set out for Berlin, accompanied only by a few +servants. + +Kohlhaas, as we have said, had meanwhile arrived in Berlin, and by +special order of the Elector of Brandenburg had been placed in a +prison for nobles, where, together with his five children, he was made +as comfortable as circumstances permitted. Immediately after the +appearance of the Imperial attorney from Vienna the horse-dealer was +called to account before the bar of the Supreme Court for the +violation of the public peace proclaimed throughout the Empire, and +although in his answer he objected that, by virtue of the agreement +concluded with the Elector of Saxony at Lützen, he could not be +prosecuted for the armed invasion of that country and the acts of +violence committed at that time, he was nevertheless told for his +information that His Majesty the Emperor, whose attorney was making +the complaint in this case, could not take that into account. And +indeed, after the situation had been explained to him and he had been +told that, to offset this, complete satisfaction would be rendered to +him in Dresden in his suit against Squire Wenzel Tronka, he very soon +acquiesced in the matter. + +Thus it happened that, precisely on the day of the arrival of the +Chamberlain, judgment was pronounced, and Kohlhaas was condemned to +lose his life by the sword, which sentence, however, in the +complicated state of affairs, no one believed would be carried out, in +spite of its mercy. Indeed the whole city, knowing the good will which +the Elector bore Kohlhaas, confidently hoped to see it commuted by an +electoral decree to a mere, though possibly long and severe, term of +imprisonment. + +The Chamberlain, who nevertheless realized that no time was to be lost +if the commission given him by his master was to be accomplished, set +about his business by giving Kohlhaas an opportunity to get a good +look at him, dressed as he was in his ordinary court costume, one +morning when the horse-dealer was standing at the window of his +prison innocently gazing at the passers-by. As he concluded from a +sudden movement of his head that he had noticed him, and with great +pleasure observed particularly that he put his hand involuntarily to +that part of the chest where the locket was lying, he considered that +what had taken place at that moment in Kohlhaas' soul was a sufficient +preparation to allow him to go a step further in the attempt to gain +possession of the paper. He therefore sent for an old woman who +hobbled around on crutches, selling old clothes; he had noticed her in +the streets of Berlin among a crowd of other rag-pickers, and in age +and costume she seemed to him to correspond fairly well to the woman +described to him by the Elector of Saxony. On the supposition that +Kohlhaas probably had not fixed very deeply in mind the features of +the old gipsy, of whom he had had but a fleeting vision as she handed +him the paper, he determined to substitute the aforesaid woman for her +and, if it were practicable, to have her act the part of the gipsy +before Kohlhaas. In accordance with this plan and in order to fit her +for the rôle, he informed her in detail of all that had taken place in +Jüterbock between the Elector and the gipsy, and, as he did not know +how far the latter had gone in her declarations to Kohlhaas, he did +not forget to impress particularly upon the woman the three mysterious +items contained in the paper. After he had explained to her what she +must disclose in disconnected and incoherent fashion, about certain +measures which had been taken to get possession, either by strategy or +by force, of this paper which was of the utmost importance to the +Saxon court, he charged her to demand of Kohlhaas that he should give +the paper to her to keep during a few fateful days, on the pretext +that it was no longer safe with him. + +As was to be expected, the woman undertook the execution of this +business at once on the promise of a considerable reward, a part of +which the Chamberlain, at her demand, had to pay over to her in +advance. As the mother of Herse, the groom who had fallen at +Mühlberg, had permission from the government to visit Kohlhaas at +times, and this woman had already known her for several months, she +succeeded a few days later in gaining access to the horse-dealer by +means of a small gratuity to the warden. + +But when the woman entered his room, Kohlhaas, from a seal ring that +she wore on her hand and a coral chain that hung round her neck, +thought that he recognized in her the very same old gipsy-woman who +had handed him the paper in Jüterbock; and since probability is not +always on the side of truth, it so happened that here something had +occurred which we will indeed relate, but at the same time, to those +who wish to question it we must accord full liberty to do so. The +Chamberlain had made the most colossal blunder, and in the aged +old-clothes woman, whom he had picked up in the streets of Berlin to +impersonate the gipsy, he had hit upon the very same mysterious +gipsy-woman whom he wished to have impersonated. At least, while +leaning on her crutches and stroking the cheeks of the children who, +intimidated by her singular appearance, were pressing close to their +father, the woman informed the latter that she had returned to +Brandenburg from Saxony some time before, and that after an unguarded +question which the Chamberlain had hazarded in the streets of Berlin +about the gipsy-woman who had been in Jüterbock in the spring of the +previous year, she had immediately pressed forward to him, and under a +false name had offered herself for the business which he wished to see +done. + +The horse-dealer remarked such a strange likeness between her and his +dead wife Lisbeth that he might have asked the old woman whether she +were his wife's grandmother; for not only did her features and her +hands--with fingers still shapely and beautiful--and especially the +use she made of them when speaking, remind him vividly of Lisbeth; he +even noticed on her neck a mole like one with which his wife's neck +was marked. With his thoughts in a strange whirl he urged the gipsy to +sit down on a chair and asked what it could possibly be that brought +her to him on business for the Chamberlain. + +While Kohlhaas' old dog snuffed around her knees and wagged his tail +as she gently patted his head, the Woman answered that she had been +commissioned by the Chamberlain to inform him what the three questions +of importance for the Court of Saxony were, to which the paper +contained the mysterious answer; to warn him of a messenger who was +then in Berlin for the purpose of gaining possession of it; and to +demand the paper from him on the pretext that it was no longer safe +next his heart where he was carrying it. She said that the real +purpose for which she had come, however, was to tell him that the +threat to get the paper away from him by strategy or by force was an +absurd and empty fraud; that under the protection of the Elector of +Brandenburg, in whose custody he was, he need not have the least fear +for its safety; that the paper was indeed much safer with him than +with her, and that he should take good care not to lose possession of +it by giving it up to any one, no matter on what pretext. +Nevertheless, she concluded, she considered it would be wise to use +the paper for the purpose for which she had given it to him at the +fair in Jüterbock, to lend a favorable ear to the offer which had been +made to him on the frontier through Squire Stein, and in return for +life and liberty to surrender the paper, which could be of no further +use to him, to the Elector of Saxony. + +Kohlhaas, who was exulting over the power which was thus afforded him +to wound the heel of his enemy mortally at the very moment when it was +treading him in the dust, made answer, "Not for the world, grandam, +not for the world!" He pressed the old woman's hand warmly and only +asked to know what sort of answers to the tremendous questions were +contained in the paper. Taking on her lap the youngest child, who had +crouched at her feet, the woman said, "Not for the world, Kohlhaas the +horse-dealer, but for this pretty, fair-haired little lad!" and with +that she laughed softly at the child, petted and kissed him while he +stared at her in wide-eyed surprise, and with her withered hands gave +him an apple which she had in her pocket. Kohlhaas answered, in some +confusion, that the children themselves, when they were grown, would +approve his conduct, and that he could do nothing of greater benefit +to them and their grandchildren than to keep the paper. He asked, +furthermore, who would insure him against a new deception after the +experience he had been through, and whether, in the end, he would not +be making a vain sacrifice of the paper to the Elector, as had lately +happened in the case of the band of troops which he had collected in +Lützen. "If I've once caught a man breaking his word," said he, "I +never exchange another with him; and nothing but your command, +positive and unequivocal, shall separate me, good grandam, from this +paper through which I have been granted satisfaction in such a +wonderful fashion for all I have suffered." + +The woman set the child down on the floor again and said that in many +respects he was right, and that he could do or leave undone what he +wished; and with that she took up her crutches again and started to +go. Kohlhaas repeated his question regarding the contents of the +wonderful paper; she answered hastily that, of course, he could open +it, although it would be pure curiosity on his part. He wished to find +out about a thousand other things yet, before she left him--who she +really was, how she came by the knowledge resident within her, why she +had refused to give the magic paper to the Elector for whom it had +been written after all, and among so many thousand people had handed +it precisely to him, Kohlhaas, who had never consulted her art. + +Now it happened that, just at that moment, a noise was heard, caused +by several police officials who were mounting the stairway, so that +the woman, seized with sudden apprehension at being found by them in +these quarters, exclaimed, "Good-by for the present, Kohlhaas, good-by +for the present. When we meet again you shall not lack information +concerning all these things." With that she turned toward the door, +crying, "Farewell, children, farewell!" Then she kissed the little +folks one after the other, and went off. + +In the mean time the Elector of Saxony, abandoned to his wretched +thoughts, had called in two astrologers, Oldenholm and Olearius by +name, who at that time enjoyed a great reputation in Saxony, and had +asked their advice concerning the mysterious paper which was of such +importance to him and all his descendants. After making a profound +investigation of several days' duration in the tower of the Dresden +palace, the men could not agree as to whether the prophecy referred to +remote centuries or, perhaps, to the present time, with a possible +reference to the King of Poland, with whom the relations were still of +a very warlike nature. The disquietude, not to say the despair, in +which the unhappy sovereign was plunged, was only increased by such +learned disputes, and finally was so intensified as to seem to his +soul wholly intolerable. In addition, just at this time the +Chamberlain charged his wife that before she left for Berlin, whither +she was about to follow him, she should adroitly inform the Elector, +that, after the failure of an attempt, which he had made with the help +of an old woman who had kept out of sight ever since, there was but +slight hope of securing the paper in Kohlhaas' possession, inasmuch as +the death sentence pronounced against the horse-dealer had now at last +been signed by the Elector of Brandenburg after a minute examination +of all the legal documents, and the day of execution already set for +the Monday after Palm Sunday. At this news the Elector, his heart torn +by grief and remorse, shut himself up in his room like a man in utter +despair and, tired of life, refused for two days to take food; on the +third day he suddenly disappeared from Dresden after sending a short +communication to the Government Office with word that he was going to +the Prince of Dessau's to hunt. Where he actually did go and whether +he did wend his way toward Dessau, we shall not undertake to say, as +the chronicles--which we have diligently compared before reporting +events--at this point contradict and offset one another in a very +peculiar manner. So much is certain: the Prince of Dessau was +incapable of hunting, as he was at this time lying ill in Brunswick at +the residence of his uncle, Duke Henry, and it is also certain that +Lady Heloise on the evening of the following day arrived in Berlin at +the house of her husband, Sir Kunz, the Chamberlain, in the company of +a certain Count von Königstein whom she gave out to be her cousin. + +In the mean time, on the order of the Elector of Brandenburg, the +death sentence was read to Kohlhaas, his chains were removed, and the +papers concerning his property, to which papers his right had been +denied in Dresden, were returned to him. When the councilors whom the +court had dispatched to him asked what disposition he wished to have +made of his property after his death, with the help of a notary he +made out a will in favor of his children and appointed his honest +friend, the bailiff at Kohlhaasenbrück, to be their guardian. After +that, nothing could match the peace and contentment of his last days. +For in consequence of a singular decree extraordinary issued by the +Elector, the prison in which he was kept was soon after thrown open +and free entrance was allowed day and night to all his friends, of +whom he possessed a great many in the city. He even had the further +satisfaction of seeing the theologian, Jacob Freising, enter his +prison as a messenger from Dr. Luther, with a letter from the latter's +own hand--without doubt a very remarkable document which, however, has +since been lost--and of receiving the blessed Holy Communion at the +hands of this reverend gentleman in the presence of two deans of +Brandenburg, who assisted him in administering it. + +Amid general commotion in the city, which could not even yet be weaned +from the hope of seeing him saved by an electoral rescript, there +now dawned the fateful Monday after Palm Sunday, on which Kohlhaas was +to make atonement to the world for the all-too-rash attempt to procure +justice for himself within it. Accompanied by a strong guard and +conducted by the theologian, Jacob Freising, he was just leaving the +gate of his prison with his two lads in his arms--for this favor he +had expressly requested at the bar of the court--when among a +sorrowful throng of acquaintances, who were pressing his hands in +farewell, there stepped up to him, with haggard face, the castellan of +the Elector's palace, and gave him a paper which he said an old woman +had put in his hands for him. The latter, looking in surprise at the +man, whom he scarcely knew, opened the paper. The seal pressed upon +the wafer had reminded him at once of the frequently mentioned +gipsy-woman, but who can describe the astonishment which filled him +when he found the following information contained in it: "Kohlhaas, +the Elector of Saxony is in Berlin; he has already preceded you to the +place of execution, and, if you care to know, can be recognized by a +hat with blue and white plumes. The purpose for which he comes I do +not need to tell you. He intends, as soon as you are buried, to have +the locket dug up and the paper in it opened and read. Your Lisbeth." + +Kohlhaas turned to the castellan in the utmost astonishment and asked +him if he knew the marvelous woman who had given him the note. But +just as the castellan started to answer "Kohlhaas, the woman--" and then +hesitated strangely in the middle of his sentence, the horse-dealer +was borne away by the procession which moved on again at that moment, +and could not make out what the man, who seemed to be trembling in +every limb, finally uttered. + +When Kohlhaas arrived at the place of execution he found there the +Elector of Brandenburg and his suite, among whom was the +Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, halting on horseback, in the +midst of an innumerable crowd of people. On the sovereign's right was +the Imperial attorney, Franz Müller, with a copy of the death +sentence in his hand; on his left was his own attorney, the jurist +Anton Zäuner, with the decree of the Court Tribunal at Dresden. In the +middle of the half circle formed by the people stood a herald with a +bundle of articles, and the two black horses, fat and glossy, pawing +the ground impatiently. For the Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich, had won +the suit instituted at Dresden in the name of his master without +yielding a single point to Squire Wenzel Tronka. After the horses had +been made honorable once more by having a banner waved over their +heads, and taken from the knacker, who was feeding them, they had been +fattened by the Squire's servants and then, in the market-place in +Dresden, had been turned over to the attorney in the presence of a +specially appointed commission. Accordingly when Kohlhaas, accompanied +by his guard, advanced to the mound where the Elector was awaiting +him, the latter said, "Well, Kohlhaas, this is the day on which you +receive justice that is your due. Look, I here deliver to you all that +was taken from you by force at the Tronka Castle which I, as your +sovereign, was bound to procure for you again; here are the black +horses, the neck-cloth, the gold gulden, the linen--everything down to +the very amount of the bill for medical attention furnished your +groom, Herse, who fell at Mühlberg. Are you satisfied with me?" + +Kohlhaas set the two children whom he was carrying in his arms down on +the ground beside him, and with eyes sparkling with astonished +pleasure read the decree which was handed to him at a sign from the +Arch-Chancellor. When he also found in it a clause condemning Squire +Wenzel Tronka to a punishment of two years' imprisonment, his feelings +completely overcame him and he sank down on his knees at some distance +from the Elector, with his hands folded across his breast. Rising and +laying his hand on the knee of the Arch-Chancellor, he joyfully +assured him that his dearest wish on earth had been fulfilled; then he +walked over to the horses, examined them and patted their plump +necks, and, coming back to the Chancellor, declared with a smile that +he was going to present them to his two sons, Henry and Leopold! + +The Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, looking graciously down upon +him from his horse, promised him in the name of the Elector that his +last wish should be held sacred and asked him also to dispose of the +other articles contained in the bundle, as seemed good to him. +Whereupon Kohlhaas called out from the crowd Herse's old mother, whom +he had caught sight of in the square, and, giving her the things, +said, "Here, grandmother, these belong to you!" The indemnity for the +loss of Herse was with the money in the bundle, and this he presented +to her also, as a gift to provide care and comfort for her old age. +The Elector cried, "Well, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer, now that +satisfaction has been rendered you in such fashion, do you, for your +part, prepare to give satisfaction to His Majesty the Emperor, whose +attorney is standing here, for the violation of the peace he had +proclaimed!" Taking off his hat and throwing it on the ground Kohlhaas +said that he was ready to do so. He lifted the children once more from +the ground and pressed them to his breast; then he gave them over to +the bailiff of Kohlhaasenbrück, and while the latter, weeping +quietly, led them away from the square, Kohlhaas advanced to the +block. + +He was just removing his neck-cloth and baring his chest when, +throwing a hasty glance around the circle formed by the crowd, he +caught sight of the familiar face of the man with blue and white +plumes, who was standing quite near him between two knights whose +bodies half hid him from view. With a sudden stride which surprised +the guard surrounding him, Kohlhaas walked close up to the man, +untying the locket from around his neck as he did so. He took out the +paper, unsealed it, and read it through; then, without moving his eyes +from the man with blue and white plumes, who was already beginning to +indulge in sweet hopes, he stuck the paper in his mouth and swallowed +it. At this sight the man with blue and white plumes was seized with +convulsions and sank down unconscious. While his companions bent over +him in consternation and raised him from the ground, Kohlhaas turned +toward the scaffold, where his head fell under the axe of the +executioner. + +Here ends the story of Kohlhaas. Amid the general lamentations of the +people his body was placed in a coffin, and while the bearers raised +it from the ground and bore it away to the graveyard in the suburbs +for decent burial, the Elector of Brandenburg called to him the sons +of the dead man and dubbed them knights, telling the Arch-Chancellor +that he wished them to be educated in his school for pages. + +The Elector of Saxony, shattered in body and mind, returned shortly +afterward to Dresden; details of his subsequent career there must be +sought in history. + +Some hale and happy descendants of Kohlhaas, however, were still +living in Mecklenburg in the last century. + + + + +THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG + + + DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + + FREDERICK WILLIAM, _Elector of Brandenburg_. + + THE ELECTRESS. + + PRINCESS NATALIE OF ORANGE, _his niece, + Honorary Colonel of a regiment of Dragoons_. + + FIELD-MARSHAL DÖRFLING. + + PRINCE FREDERICK ARTHUR OF HOMBURG, + _General of cavalry_. + + COLONEL KOTTWITZ, of the regiment + of the Princess of Orange. + + HENNINGS + COUNT TRUCHSZ _Infantry Colonels_. + + COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, _of the Elector's suite_. + + VON DER GOLZ } + COUNT GEORGE VON SPARREN STRANZ } + SIEGFRIED VON MÖRNER } _Captains of Cavalry_ + COUNT REUSS } + A SERGEANT } + + + _Officers. Corporals and troopers. + Ladies- and Gentlemen-in-waiting. + Pages. Lackeys. Servants. People + of both sexes, young and old_. + + _Time_: 1675. + + + +THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG (1810) + +By HEINRICH VON KLEIST + +TRANSLATED BY HERMANN HAGEDORN, A.B. + +Author of _A Troop of the Guard and Other Poems_ + + +ACT I + +_Scene: Fehrbellin. A garden laid out in the old French style. In the +background, a palace with a terrace from which a broad stair descends. +It is night._ + + +SCENE I + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _sits with head bare and shirt unbuttoned, +half-sleeping, half waking, under an oak, binding a wreath. The_ +ELECTOR, ELECTRESS, PRINCESS NATALIE, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN GOLZ +_and others come stealthily out of the palace and look down upon him +from the balustrade of the terrace. Pages with torches._ + + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Prince of Homburg, our most valiant cousin, + Who these three days has pressed the flying Swedes + Exultant at the cavalry's forefront, + And scant of breath only today returned + To camp at Fehrbellin--your order said + That he should tarry here provisioning + Three hours at most, and move once more apace + Clear to the Hackel Hills to cope with Wrangel, + Seeking to build redoubts beside the Rhyn? + +ELECTOR. 'Tis so. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Now having charged the commandants + Of all his squadrons to depart the town + Obedient to the plan, sharp ten at night, + He flings himself exhausted on the straw + Like a hound panting, his exhausted limbs + To rest a little while against the fight + Which waits us at the glimmering of dawn. + +ELECTOR. I heard so! Well? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Now when the hour strikes + And in the stirrup now the cavalry + Expectant paws the ground before the gates-- + Who still absents himself The Prince of Homburg, + Their chief. With lights they seek the valiant man, + With torches, lanterns, and they find him--where? + + [_He takes a torch from the hand of a page._] + + As a somnambulist, look, on that bench, + Whither in sleep, as you would ne'er believe, + The moonshine lured him, vaguely occupied + Imagining himself posterity + And weaving for his brow the crown of fame. + +ELECTOR. What! + +HOHENZOLL. Oh, indeed! Look down here: there he sits! + + [_From the terrace he throws the light on the_ PRINCE.] + +ELECTOR. In slumber sunk? Impossible! + +HOHENZOLLERN. In slumber + Sunk as he is, speak but his name--he drops. + + [_Pause._] + +ELECTRESS. Sure as I live, the youth is taken ill. + +NATALIE. He needs a doctor's care-- + +ELECTRESS. We should give help, + Not waste time, gentlemen, meseems, in scorn. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_handing back the torch_). + He's sound, you tender-hearted women folk, + By Jove, as sound as I! He'll make the Swede + Aware of that upon tomorrow's field. + It's nothing more, and take my word for it, + Than a perverse and silly trick of the mind. + +ELECTOR. By faith, I thought it was a fairy-tale! + Follow me, friends, we'll take a closer look. + + [_They descend from the terrace._] + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING (_to the pages_). + Back with the torches! + +[Illustration: #THE ROYAL CASTLE AT BERLIN#] + +HOHENZOLLERN. Leave them, leave them, friends! + These precincts might roar up to heaven in fire + And his soul be no more aware of it + Than the bright stone he wears upon his hand. + + [_They surround him, the pages illuminating the scene._] + +ELECTOR (_bending over the_ PRINCE). + What leaf is it he binds? Leaf of the willow? + +HOHENZOLL. What! Willow-leaf, my lord? It is the bay, + Such as his eyes have noted on the portraits + Of heroes hung in Berlin's armor-hall. + +ELECTOR. Where hath he found that in my sandy soil? + +HOHENZOLL. The equitable gods may guess at that! + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + It may be in the garden, where the gardener + Has nurtured other strange, outlandish plants. + +ELECTOR. Most curious, by heaven! But what's the odds? + I know what stirs the heart of this young fool. + +HOHENZOLL. Indeed! Tomorrow's clash of arms, my liege! + Astrologers, I'll wager, in his mind + Are weaving stars into a triumph wreath. + + [_The_ PRINCE _regards the wreath._] + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. Now it is done! + +HOHENZOLLERN. A shame, a mortal shame, + That there's no mirror in the neighborhood! + He would draw close to it, vain as any girl, + And try his wreath on, thus, and then again + This other way--as if it were a bonnet! + +ELECTOR. By faith! But I must see how far he'll go! + +[_The_ ELECTOR _takes the wreath from the_ PRINCE'S _hand while the +latter regards him, flushing. The_ ELECTOR _thereupon twines his +neck-chain about the wreath and gives it to the_ PRINCESS. _The_ +PRINCE _rises in excitement, but the_ ELECTOR _draws back with the_ +PRINCESS, _still holding the wreath aloft. The_ PRINCE _follows her +with outstretched arms._] + +THE PRINCE (_whispering_). + Natalie! Oh, my girl! Oh, my beloved! + +ELECTOR. Make haste! Away! + +HOHENZOLLERN. What did the fool say? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. What? + + [_They all ascend the stair to the terrace._] + +THE PRINCE. Frederick, my prince! my father! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Hell and devils! + +ELECTOR (_backing away from him_). + Open the gate for me! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, mother mine! + +HOHENZOLL. The raving idiot! + +ELECTRESS. Whom did he call thus? + +THE PRINCE (_clutching at the wreath_). + Beloved, why do you recoil? My Natalie! + + [_He snatches a glove from the_ PRINCESS' _hand._] + +HOHENZOLL. Heaven and earth! What laid he hands on there? + +COURTIER. The wreath? + +NATALIE. No, no! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_opening the door_). Hither! This way, my + liege! + So the whole scene may vanish from his eye! + +ELECTOR. Back to oblivion, with you, oblivion, + Sir Prince of Homburg! On the battle-field, + If you be so disposed, we meet again! + Such matters men attain not in a dream! + +[_They all go out; the door crashes shut in the_ PRINCE'S _face. +Pause._] + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _remains standing before the door a moment in +perplexity; then dreamily descends from the terrace, the hand holding +the glove pressed against his forehead. At the foot of the stair he +turns again, gazing up at the door._ + + + +SCENE III + +_Enter_ COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _by the wicket below. A page follows him. +The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. + +PAGE (Softly). + Count! Listen, do! Most worshipful Sir + Count! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_vexed_). + Grasshopper! Well? What's wanted? + +PAGE. I am sent-- + +HOHENZOLL. Speak softly now, don't wake him with your chirping! + Come now! What's up? + +PAGE. The Elector sent me hither. + He charges you that, when the Prince awakes, + You breathe no word to him about the jest + It was his pleasure to allow himself. + +HOHENZOLLERN (softly). + You skip off to the wheatfield for some sleep. + I knew that, hours ago. So run along. + + + + SCENE IV + +COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _and the_ PRINCE of HOMBURG. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_taking a position some distance behind the_ PRINCE _who + is still gazing fixedly up toward the terrace_). + Arthur! + + [_The_ PRINCE _drops to the ground._] + + And there he lies! + You could not do it better with a bullet. + + [_He approaches him._] + + Now I am eager for the fairy-tale + He'll fabricate to show the reason why + Of all the world he chose this place to sleep in. + + [_He bends over him._] + + Arthur! Hi! Devil's own! What are you up to? + What are you doing here at dead of night? + +THE PRINCE. Ah, dear, old fellow! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, I'm hanged! See here! + The cavalry's a full hour down the road + And you, their colonel, you lie here and sleep. + +THE PRINCE. What cavalry? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Mamelukes, of course! + Sure as I live and breathe, the man's forgot + That he commands the riders of the Mark! + +THE PRINCE (rising). + My helmet, quick then! My cuirass! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Where are they? + +THE PRINCE. Off to the right there, Harry.--On the stool. + +HOHENZOLL. Where? On the stool? + +THE PRINCE. I laid them there, I thought-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him). + Then go and get them from the stool yourself. + +THE PRINCE. What's this glove doing here + + [He stares at the glove in his hand.] + +HOHENZOLLERN. How should I know? + [Aside.] Curses! He must have torn that + unobserved from the lady niece's arm. [Abruptly.] Quick + now, be off! + What are you waiting for? + +THE PRINCE (casting the glove away again). + I'm coming, coming. + Hi, Frank! The knave I told to wake me must + have-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him). + It's raving mad he is! + +THE PRINCE. Upon my oath, Harry, my dear, I don't know where I am. + +HOHENZOLL. In Fehrbellin, you muddle-headed dreamer-- + You're in a by-path of the Castle gardens. + +THE PRINCE (to himself). + Engulf me, Night! Unwittingly once more + In slumber through the moonshine have I + strayed! [He pulls himself together.] + Forgive me! Now I know! Last night, recall, + The heat was such one scarce could lie in bed. + I crept exhausted hither to this garden, + And because Night with so sweet tenderness + Encompassed me, fair-haired and odorous Night-- + Even as the Persian bride wraps close her lover, + Lo, here I laid my head upon her lap. + What is the clock now? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Half an hour of midnight. + +THE PRINCE. And you aver the troops are on the march? + +HOHENZOLL. Upon my word, sharp, stroke of ten, as planned. + The Princess Orange regiment in van, + By this undoubtedly has reached the heights + Of Hackelwitz, there in the face of Wrangel + To cloak the army's hid approach at dawn. + +THE PRINCE. Well, no harm's done. Old Kottwitz captains her + And he knows every purpose of this march. + I should have been compelled, at all events + By two, to come back hither for the council: + Those were the orders. So it's just as well + I stayed in the beginning. Let's be off. + The Elector has no inkling? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bah! How should he? + He's tight abed and snoozing long ago. + + [_They are about to depart when the_ PRINCE _starts, turns, and picks + up the glove_.] + +THE PRINCE. I dreamed such an extraordinary dream! + It seemed as though the palace of a king, + Radiant with gold and silver, suddenly + Oped wide its doors, and from its terrace high + The galaxy of those my heart loves best + Came down to me: + The Elector and his Lady and the--third-- + What is her name? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Whose? + +THE PRINCE (_searching his memory_). Why, the one I mean! + A mute must find his tongue to speak her name. + +HOHENZOLL. The Platen girl? + +THE PRINCE. Come, come, now! + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Ramin + +THE PRINCE. No, no, old fellow! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bork? Or Winterfeld? + +THE PRINCE. No, no! My word! You fail to see the pearl + For the bright circlet that but sets it off! + +HOHENZOLL. Damn it, then, tell me! I can't guess the face! + What lady do you mean? + +THE PRINCE. Well, never mind. + The name has slipped from me since I awoke, + And goes for little in the story. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, + Let's have it then! + +THE PRINCE. But now, don't interrupt me!-- + And the Elector of the Jovelike brow, + Holding a wreath of laurel in his hand, + Stands close beside me, and the soul of me + To ravish quite, twines round the jeweled band + That hangs about his neck, and unto one + Gives it to press upon my locks--Oh, friend! + +HOHENZOLL. To whom? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend! + +HOHENZOLLERN. To whom then? Come, speak up! + +THE PRINCE. I think it must have been the Platen girl. + +HOHENZOLL. Platen? Oh, bosh! Not she who's off in Prussia? + +THE PRINCE. Really, the Platen girl. Or the Ramin? + +HOHENZOLL. Lord, the Ramin! She of the brick-red hair? + The Platen girl with those coy, violet eyes-- + They say you fancy _her_. + +THE PRINCE. I fancy her-- + +HOHENZOLL. So, and you say she handed you the wreath? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, like some deity of fame she lifts + High up the circlet with its dangling chain + As if to crown a hero. I stretch forth, + Oh, in delight unspeakable, my hands + I stretch to seize it, yearning with my soul + To sink before her feet. But as the odor + That floats above green valleys, by the wind's + Cool breathing is dispelled, the group recedes + Up the high terrace from me; lo, the terrace + Beneath my tread immeasurably distends + To heaven's very gate. I clutch at air + Vainly to right, to left I clutch at air, + Of those I loved hungering to capture one. + In vain! The palace portal opes amain. + A flash of lightning from within engulfs them; + Rattling, the door flies to. Only a glove + I ravish from the sweet dream-creature's arm + In passionate pursuing; and a glove, + By all the gods, awaking, here I hold! + +HOHENZOLL. Upon my word--and, you assume, the glove + Must be her glove? + +THE PRINCE. Whose? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, the Platen girl's. + +THE PRINCE. Platen! Of course. Or could it be Ramin's + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a laugh_). + Rogue that you are with your mad fantasies! + Who knows from what exploit delectable + Here in a waking hour with flesh and blood + The glove sticks to your hand, now? + +THE PRINCE. Eh? What? I? + With all my love-- + +HOHENZOLLERN. Oh, well then, what's the odds? + Call it the Platen lady, or Ramin. + There is a Prussian post on Sunday next, + So you can find out by the shortest way + Whether your lady fair has lost a glove. + Off! Twelve o'clock! And we stand here and jaw! + +THE PRINCE (_dreamily into space_). + Yes, you are right. Come, let us go to bed. + But as I had it on my mind to say-- + Is the Electress who arrived in camp + Not long since with her niece, the exquisite + Princess of Orange, is she still about? + +HOHENZOLL. Why?--I declare the idiot thinks-- + +THE PRINCE. Why? + I've orders to have thirty mounted men + Escort them safely from the battle-lines. + Ramin has been detailed to lead them. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bosh! + They're gone long since, or just about to go. + The whole night long, Ramin, all rigged for flight, + Has hugged the door. But come. It's stroke o' twelve. + And I, for one, before the fight begins, + I want to get some sleep. + + + +SCENE V + +_The same. Hall in the palace. In the distance, the sound of cannon. +The ELECTRESS and PRINCESS NATALIE, dressed for travel, enter, +escorted by a gentleman-in-waiting, and sit down at the side. +Ladies-in-waiting. A little later the ELECTOR enters with +FIELD-MARSHAL. DÖRFLING, the PRINCE OF HOMBURG with the glove in his +collar, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, COUNT TRUCHSZ, COLONEL HENNINGS, +TROOP-CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ and several other generals, colonels and +minor officers._ + +ELECTOR. What is that cannonading?--Is it Götz? + +DÖRFLING. It's Colonel Götz, my liege, who yesterday + Pushed forward with the van. An officer + Has come from him already to allay + Your apprehensions ere they come to birth. + A Swedish outpost of a thousand men + Has pressed ahead into the Hackel Hills, + But for those hills Götz stands security + And sends me word that you should lay your plans + As though his van already held them safe. + +ELECTOR (_to the officers_). + The Marshal knows the plan. Now, gentlemen, + I beg you take your pens and write it down. + +[_The officers assemble on the other side about the_ FIELD-MARSHAL, +_and take out their tablets. The_ ELECTOR _turns to a +gentleman-in-waiting_.] + +Ramin is waiting with the coach outside? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. +At once, my sovereign. They are hitching now. + +ELECTOR (_seating himself on a chair behind the_ ELECTRESS _and the_ +PRINCESS). + Ramin shall escort my belovèd wife, + Convoyed by thirty sturdy cavalrymen. + To Kalkhuhn's, to the chancellor's manor-house. + At Havelberg beyond the Havel, go. + There's not a Swede dare show his face there now. + +ELECTRESS. The ferry is restored? + +ELECTOR. At Havelberg? + I have arranged for it. The day will break + In all events before you come to it. + + [_Pause_.] + + You are so quiet, Natalie, my girl? + What ails the child? + +NATALIE. Uncle, I am afraid. + +ELECTOR. And yet my little girl was not more safe + In her own mother's lap than she is now. + + [_Pause_.] + +ELECTRESS. When do you think that we shall meet again? + +ELECTOR. If God grants me the victory, as I + Doubt not He will, in a few days, perhaps. + +[_Pages enter and serve the ladies refreshments_. FIELD-MARSHAL +DÖRFLING _dictates. The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG, _pen and tablet in hand, +stares at the ladies_.] + +MARSHAL. The battle-plan his Highness has devised + Intends, my lords, in order that the Swedes' + Fugitive host be utterly dispersed, + The severing of their army from the bridges + That guard their rear along the river Rhyn. + Thus Colonel Hennings-- + +HENNINGS. Here! + + [_He writes_.] + +MARSHAL. Who by the will + Of his liege lord commands the army's right, + Shall seek by stealthy passage through the bush + To circumscribe the enemy's left wing, + Fearlessly hurl his force between the foe + And the three bridges; then, joined with Count Truchsz-- + Count Truchsz! + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Here! + +MARSHAL. Thereupon, joined with Count Truchsz-- + + [_He pauses_.] + + Who, meanwhile, facing Wrangel on the heights + Has gained firm footing with his cannonry-- + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Firm footing with his cannonry-- + +MARSHAL. You hear it?-- + + [_Proceeding_.] + + Attempt to drive the Swedes into the swamp + Which lies behind their right. + + [_A lackey enters_.] + + LACKEY. Madam, the coach is at the door. + + [_The ladies rise_.] + +MARSHAL. The Prince of Homburg-- + +ELECTOR (_also rising_). Is Ramin at hand? + +LACKEY. He's in the saddle, waiting at the gates. + + [_The royalties take leave of one another_.] + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Which lies behind their right. + +MARSHAL. The Prince of Homburg-- + Where is the Prince of Homburg? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_in a whisper_). Arthur! + +THE PRINCE (_with a start_). Here! + +HOHENZOLL. Have you gone mad? + +THE PRINCE. My Marshal, to command! + +[_He flushes, and, taking out pen and parchment, writes._] + +MARSHAL. To whom His Highness, trusting that he lead + His force to glory as at Rathenow, + Confides the mounted squadrons of the Mark + + [_He hesitates._] + + Though in no way disprizing Colonel Kottwitz + Who shall be aid in counsel and right hand-- + + [_To_ CAPTAIN GOLZ _in a low voice._] + + Is Kottwitz here? + +GOLZ. No, General. He has, + You note, dispatched me hither in his place + To take the battle order from your lips. + + [_The_ PRINCE _gazes over toward the ladies again._] + +MARSHAL (_continuing_). + Takes station in the plain near Hackelwitz + Facing the right wing of the enemy + Well out of range of the artillery fire. + +GOLZ (_writing_). Well out of range of the artillery fire. + +[_The_ ELECTRESS _ties a scarf about the_ PRINCESS' _throat. The_ +PRINCESS, _about to draw on a glove, looks around as if she were in +search of something._] + +ELECTOR (_approaches her_). + Dear little girl of mine, what have you lost? + +ELECTRESS. What are you searching for? + +NATALIE. Why, Auntie dear, + My glove! I can't imagine-- + + [_They all look about._] + +ELECTOR (_to the ladies-in-waiting_). Would you mind?-- + +ELECTRESS (_to the_ PRINCESS). It's in your hand. + +NATALIE. The right glove; but the left? + +ELECTOR. You may have left it in your bedroom. + +NATALIE. Oh, + Bork, if you will? + +ELECTOR _(to the lady-in-waiting)_. Quick, quick! + +NATALIE. Look on the mantel. + + [_The lady-in-waiting goes out.-] + +THE PRINCE _(aside)_. + Lord of my life? Could I have heard aright? + + [_He draws the glove from his collar._] + +MARSHAL _(looking down at the paper which he holds in + his hand)_. + Well out of range of the artillery fire. + + [_Continuing_.] + + The Prince's Highness-- + +THE PRINCE _(regarding now the glove, now the PRINCESS)_. + It's this glove she's seeking-- + +MARSHAL. At our lord sovereign's express command-- + +GOLZ _(writing)_. At our lord sovereign's express command-- + +MARSHAL. Whichever way the tide of battle turn + Shall budge not from his designated place. + +THE PRINCE. Quick! Now I'll know in truth if it be hers. + +_[He lets the glove fall, together with his handkerchief; then +recovers the handkerchief but leaves the glove lying where everybody +can see it.]_ + +MARSHAL _(piqued)_. What is His Highness up to? + +HOHENZOLLERN _(aside)_. Arthur! + +THE PRINCE. Here! + +HOHENZOLL. Faith, you're possessed! + +THE PRINCE. My Marshal, to command! + + _[He takes up pen and tablet once more. The_ MARSHAL _regards him an + instant, questioningly. Pause.]_ + +GOLZ _(reading, after he has finished writing)_. + Shall budge not from his designated place. + +MARSHAL (continues). + Until, hard pressed by Hennings and by + Truchsz-- + +THE PRINCE (looking over GOLZ's shoulder). + Who, my dear Golz? What? I? + +GOLZ. Why, yes. Who else + +THE PRINCE. I shall not budge-- + +GOLZ. That's it. + +MARSHAL. Well, have you got it + +THE PRINCE (aloud). + Shall budge not from my designated place. + + [He writes.] + +MARSHAL. Until, hard pressed by Hennings and by + Truchsz-- [He pauses.] + The left wing of the enemy, dissolved, + Plunges upon its right, and wavering + The massed battalions crowd into the plain, + Where, in the marsh, criss-crossed by ditch on ditch, + The plan intends that they be wholly crushed. + +ELECTOR. Lights, pages! Come, my dear, your arm, + and yours. + +[He starts to go out with the ELECTRESS and the PRINCESS.] + +MARSHAL. Then he shall let the trumpets sound the + charge. + +ELECTRESS (as several officers, bowing and scraping, bid her + farewell). + Pray, let me not disturb you, gentlemen.-- + Until we meet again! + + [The MARSHAL also bids her good-by.] + +ELECTOR (suddenly standing still). Why, here we are! + The lady's glove. Come, quick now! There it is. + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. Where? + +ELECTOR. At our cousin's, at Prince Homburg's feet. + +THE PRINCE. What! At my feet! The glove? It is your own? + + [He picks it up and brings it to the PRINCESS.] + +NATALIE. I thank you, noble Prince. + +THE PRINCE (confused). Then it is yours? + +NATALIE. Yes, it is mine; it is the one I lost. + + [She takes it and draws it on.] + +ELECTRESS (turning to the PRINCESS, she goes out). + Farewell! Farewell! Good luck! God keep you safe! + See that erelong we joyously may meet! + + +[The ELECTOR goes out with the ladies. Attendants, courtiers and pages +follow.] + + +THE PRINCE (stands an instant as though struck by a bolt + from heaven; then with triumphant step he + returns to the group of officers). + Then he shall let the trumpets sound the charge! + + [He, pretends to write.] + +MARSHAL (looking down at his paper). + Then he shall let the trumpets sound the charge.-- + However, the Elector's Highness, lest + Through some mistake the blow should fall too soon-- + + [He pauses.] + +GOLZ (writes). Through some mistake the blow should fall + too soon-- + +THE PRINCE (aside to COUNT HOHENZOLLERN in great + perturbation). + Oh, Harry! + +HOHENZOLLERN (impatiently). + What's up now? What's in your head? + +THE PRINCE. Did you not see? + +HOHENZOLLERN. In Satan's name, shut up! + +MARSHAL (continuing). + Shall send an officer of his staff to him; + Who, mark this well, shall finally transmit + The order for the charge against the foe. + Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge. + + [The PRINCE gazes dreamily into space.] + + Well, have you got it? + +GOLZ (_writes_). Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge. + +MARSHAL (_in raised tone_). + Your Highness has it down? + +THE PRINCE. Marshal? + +MARSHAL. I asked + If you had writ it down? + +THE PRINCE. About the trumpets? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_aside, with emphatic indignation_). + Trumpets be damned! Not till the order-- + +GOLZ (_in the same tone_). Not + Till he himself-- + +THE PRINCE (_interrupting_). Naturally not, before-- + But then he'll let the trumpets sound the + charge. + + [_He writes. Pause._] + +MARSHAL. And I desire--pray note it, Baron Golz-- + Before the action opens, to confer + With Colonel Kottwitz, if it can be done. + +GOLZ (_significantly_). He shall receive your message. Rest assured. + + [_Pause._] + +ELECTOR (_returning_). + What now, my colonels and my generals! + The morning breaks. Have you the orders down? + +MARSHAL. The thing is done, my liege. Your battle-plan + Is in all points made clear to your commanders. + +ELECTOR (_picking up his hat and gloves_). + And you, I charge, Prince Homburg, learn control! + Recall, you forfeited two victories + Of late, upon the Rhine, so keep your head! + Make me not do without the third today. + My land and throne depend on it, no less. + + [_To the officers._] + Come!--Frank! + +A GROOM (_entering_). Here! + +ELECTOR. Quick there! Saddle me my gray! + I will be on the field before the sun! + +[_He goes out, followed by generals, colonels and minor officers._] + + + + SCENE VI + +THE PRINCE (_coming forward_). + Now, on thine orb, phantasmic creature, Fortune, + Whose veil a faint wind's breathing even now + Lifts as a sail, roll hither! Thou hast touched + My hair in passing; as thou hovered'st near + Already from thy horn of plenty thou + Benignantly hast cast me down a pledge. + Child of the gods, today, O fugitive one, + I will pursue thee on the field of battle, + Seize thee, tear low thy horn of plenty, pour + Wholly thy radiant blessings round my feet, + Though sevenfold chains of iron bind thee fast + To the triumphant chariot of the Swede! + + [_Exit._] + + + +ACT II + +_Scene: Battlefield of Fehrbellin._ + +SCENE I + +COLONEL KOTTWITZ, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ _and other +officers enter at the head of the cavalry._ + + +KOTTWITZ (_outside_). Halt! Squadron, halt! Dismount! + +HOHENZOLLERN AND GOLZ (_entering_). Halt, halt! + +KOTTWITZ. Hey, friends, who'll help me off my horse? + +HOHENZOLLERN AND GOLZ. Here--here! + + [_They step outside again._] + +KOTTWITZ (_still outside_). + Thanks to you-ouch! Plague take me! May a son + Be giv'n you for your pains, a noble son + Who'll do the same for you when you grow sear. + +[He enters, followed by_ HOHENZOLLERN, GOLZ _and others._] + + Oh, in the saddle I am full of youth! + When I dismount, though, there's a battle on + As though the spirit and the flesh were parting, + In wrath. [_Looking about._] Where is our + chief, the Prince's Highness? + +HOHENZOLL. The Prince will momentarily return. + +KOTTWITZ. Where has he gone? + HOHENZOLLERN. He rode down to a hamlet, + In foliage hidden, so you passed it by. + He will return erelong. + +OFFICER. Last night, they say, + His horse gave him a tumble. + +HOHENZOLLERN. So they say. + +KOTTWITZ. He fell? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_turning_). A matter of no consequence. + His horse shied at the mill, but down his flank + He lightly slipped and did himself no harm. + It is not worth the shadow of a thought. + +KOTTWITZ (_ascending a slight elevation_). + A fine day, as I breathe the breath of life! + A day our God, the lofty Lord of earth, + For sweeter things than deadly combat made. + Ruddily gleams the sunlight through the clouds + And with the lark the spirit flutters up + Exultant to the joyous airs of heaven! + +GOLZ. Did you succeed in finding Marshal Dorfling? + +KOTTWITZ (_coming forward_). + The Devil, no! What does my lord expect? + Am I a bird, an arrow, an idea, + That he should bolt me round the entire field? + I was at Hackel hillock with the van + And with the rearguard down in Hackel vale. + The one man whom I saw not was the Marshal! + Wherefore I made my way back to my men. + +GOLZ. He will be ill-content. He had, it seemed, + A matter of some import to confide. + +OFFICER. His Highness comes, our commandant, the Prince! + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _with a black bandage on his left hand. The +others as before._ + +KOTTWITZ. My young and very noble prince, God greet you! + Look, how I formed the squadrons down that road + While you were tarrying in the nest below. + I do believe you'll say I've done it well. + +THE PRINCE. Good morning, Kottwitz! And good morning, friends! + You know that I praise everything you do. + +HOHENZOLL. What were you up to in the village, Arthur? + You seem so grave. + +THE PRINCE. I--I was in the chapel + That beckoned through the placid village trees; + The bells were ringing, calling men to prayers, + As we passed by, and something urged me on + To kneel before the altar, too, and pray. + +KOTTWITZ. A pious gentleman for one so young! + A deed, believe me, that begins with prayer + Must end in glory, victory, and fame. + +THE PRINCE. Oh, by the way, I wanted to inquire-- + + [_He draws the_ COUNT _forward a step._] + + Harry, what was it Dorfling said last night + In his directions, that applied to me? + +HOHENZOLL. You were distraught. I saw that well enough. + +THE PRINCE. Distraught--divided! I scarce know what ailed me. + Dictation always sets my wits awry. + +HOHENZOLL. Not much for you this time, as luck would have it. + Hennings and Truchsz, who lead the infantry, + Are designated to attack the foe, + And you are ordered here to halt and stay, + Ready for instant action with the horse, + Until an order summon you to charge. + +THE PRINCE (_after a pause, dreamily_). + A curious thing! + +HOHENZOLLERN. To what do you refer? + + [_He looks at him. A cannon-shot is heard._] + +KOTTWITZ. Ho, gentlemen! Ho, sirs! To horse, to horse! + That shot is Hennings', and the fight is on! + + [_They all ascend a slight elevation._] + +THE PRINCE. Who is it? What? + +HOHENZOLLERN. It's Colonel Hennings, Arthur, + He's stolen his way about to Wrangel's rear. + Come, you can watch the entire field from here. + +GOLZ (_on the hillock_). + At the Rhyn there, how terribly he uncoils! + +THE PRINCE (_shading his eyes with his hand_). + Is Hennings over there on our right wing? + +1ST OFFICER. Indeed, Your Highness. + +THE PRINCE. What the devil then + Why, yesterday he held our army's right. + + [_Cannonade in the distance._] + +KOTTWITZ. Thunder and lightning! Wrangel's cutting loose + At Hennings' now, from twelve loud throats of fire. + +1ST OFFICER. I call those _some_ redoubts the Swedes have there! + +2D OFFICER. By heaven, look, they top the very spire + Rising above the hamlet at their back! + + [_Shots near-by._] + +GOLZ. That's Truchsz! + +THE PRINCE. Truchsz? + +KOTTWITZ. To be sure! Of course, it's Truchsz, + Approaching from the front to his support. + +THE PRINCE. What's Truchsz there in the centre for, today? + + [_Loud cannonading._] + +GOLZ. Good heavens, look. The village is afire! + +3D OFFICER. Afire, as I live! + +1ST OFFICER. Afire! Afire! + The flames are darting up the steeple now! + +GOLZ. Hey! How the Swedish aides fly right and left! + +2D OFFICER. They're in retreat! + +KOTTWITZ. Where? + +1ST OFFICER. There, at their right flank! + +3D OFFICER. In masses! Sure enough! Three regiments! + The intention seems to be to brace the left. + +2D OFFICER. My faith! And now the horse are ordered out + To screen the right living's march! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a laugh_). Hi! How they'll scamper + When they get ware of us here in the vale! + + [_Musketry fire._] + +KOTTWITZ. Look, brothers, look! + +2D OFFICER. Hark! + +1ST OFFICER. Fire of musketry! + +3D OFFICER. They're at each other now in the redoubts! + +GOLZ. My God, in my born days I never heard + Such thunder of artillery! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Shoot! Shoot! + Burst open wide the bowels of the earth! + The cleft shall be your corpses' sepulchre! + + [_Pause. Shouts of victory in the distance._] + +1ST OFFICER. Lord in the heavens, who grants men victories! + Wrangel is in retreat already! + +HOHENZOLLERN. No! + +GOLZ. By heaven, friends! Look! There on his left + flank! + He's drawing back his guns from the redoubts! + +ALL. Oh, triumph! Triumph! Victory is ours! + +THE PRINCE (_descending from the hillock_). + On, Kottwitz, follow me! + +KOTTWITZ. Come, cool now--cool! + +THE PRINCE. On! Let the trumpets sound the charge! + And on! + +KOTTWITZ. Cool, now, I say. + +THE PRINCE (_wildly_). + By heaven and earth and hell! + +KOTTWITZ. Our liege's Highness in the ordinance + Commanded we should wait his orders here. + Golz, read the gentlemen the ordinance. + +THE PRINCE. Orders? Eh, Kottwitz, do you ride so slow? + Have you not heard the orders of your heart? + +KOTTWITZ. Orders? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Absurd! + +KOTTWITZ. The orders of my heart? + +HOHENZOLL. Listen to reason, Arthur! + +GOLZ. Here, my chief! + +KOTTWITZ (_offended_). + Oh, ho! you give me that, young gentleman?--The + nag you dance about on, at a pinch + I'll tow him home yet at my horse's tail! + March, march, my gentlemen! Trumpets, the + charge! + On to the battle, on! Kottwitz is game! + +GOLZ (_to_ KOTTWITZ). + Never, my colonel, never! No, I swear! + +2D OFFICER. Remember, Hennings' not yet at the Rhyn! + +1ST OFFICER. Relieve him of his sword! + +THE PRINCE. My sword, you say? + + [_He pushes him back_.] + + Hi, you impertinent boy, who do not even + Know yet the Ten Commandments of the Mark! + Here is your sabre, and the scabbard with it! + +[_He tears off the officer's sword together with the belt_.] + +1ST OFFICER (_reeling_). + By God, Prince, that's-- + +THE PRINCE (_threateningly_). + If you don't hold your tongue-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (_to the officer_). + Silence! You must be mad! + +THE PRINCE (_giving up the sword_). + Ho, corporal's guard! + Off to headquarters with the prisoner! + + [_To_ KOTTWITZ _and the other officers_.] + + Now, gentlemen, the countersign: A knave + Who follows not his general to the fight!-- + Now, who dares lag? + +KOTTWITZ. You heard. Why thunder more? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_mollifying_). + It was advice, no more, they sought to give. + +KOTTWITZ. On your head be it. I go with you. + +THE PRINCE (_somewhat calmed_). Come! + Be it upon my head then. Follow, brothers! + + [_Exeunt_.] + + + +SCENE III + +_A room in a village. A gentleman-in-waiting, booted and spurred, +enters. A peasant and his wife are sitting at a table, at work._ + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + God greet you, honest folk! Can you make room + To shelter guests beneath your roof? + +PEASANT. Indeed! + Gladly, indeed! + +THE WIFE. And may one question, whom? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + The highest lady in the land, no less. + Her coach broke down outside the village gates, + And since we hear the victory is won + There'll be no need for farther journeying. + +BOTH (_rising_). + The victory won? Heaven! + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. What! You haven't heard? + The Swedish army's beaten hip and thigh; + If not forever, for the year at least + The Mark need fear no more their fire and sword!-- + Here comes the mother of our people now. + + + +SCENE IV + +_The_ ELECTRESS, _pale and distressed, enters with the_ PRINCESS +NATALIE, _followed by various ladies-in-waiting. The others as +before._ + +ELECTRESS (_on the threshold_). + Bork! Winterfeld! Come! Let me have your arm. + +NATALIE (_going to her_). + Oh, mother mine! + +LADIES-IN-WAITING. Heavens, how pale! She is faint. + + [_They support her._] + +ELECTRESS. Here, lead me to a chair, I must sit down. + Dead, said he--dead? + +NATALIE. Mother, my precious mother! + +ELECTRESS. I'll see this bearer of dread news myself. + + + + +SCENE V + +CAPTAIN VON MÖRNER _enters, wounded, supported by two troopers. The +others._ + +ELECTRESS. Oh, herald of dismay, what do you bring? + +MÖRNER. Oh, precious Madam, what these eyes of mine + To their eternal grief themselves have seen! + +ELECTRESS. So be it! Tell! + +MÖRNER. The Elector is no more. + +NATALIE. Oh, heaven + Shall such a hideous blow descend on us? + + [_She hides her face in her hands._] + +ELECTRESS. Give me report of how he came to fall-- + And, as the bolt that strikes the wanderer, + In one last flash lights scarlet-bright the world, + So be your tale. When you are done, may night + Close down upon my head. + +MÖRNER (_approaching her, led by the two troopers_). + The Prince of Homburg, + Soon as the enemy, hard pressed by Truchsz, + Reeling broke cover, had brought up his troops + To the attack of Wrangel on the plain; + Two lines he'd pierced and, as they broke, destroyed, + When a strong earthwork hemmed his way; and thence + So murderous a fire on him beat + That, like a field of grain, his cavalry, + Mowed to the earth, went down; twixt bush and hill + He needs must halt to mass his scattered corps. + +NATALIE (_to the_ ELECTRESS). + Dearest, be strong! + +ELECTRESS. Stop, dear. Leave me alone. + +MÖRNER. That moment, watching, clear above the dust, + We see our liege beneath the battle-flags + Of Truchsz's regiments ride on the foe. + On his white horse, oh, gloriously he rode, + Sunlit, and lighting the triumphant plain. + Heart-sick with trepidation at the sight + Of him, our liege, bold in the battle's midst, + We gather on a hillock's beetling brow; + When of a sudden the Elector falls, + Horseman and horse, in dust before our eyes. + Two standard-bearers fell across his breast + And overspread his body with their flags. + +NATALIE. Oh, mother mine! + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. Oh, heaven! + +ELECTRESS. Go on, go on! + +MÖRNER. At this disastrous spectacle, a pang + Unfathomable seized the Prince's heart; + Like a wild beast, spurred on of hate and vengeance, + Forward he lunged with us at the redoubt. + Flying, we cleared the trench and, at a bound, + The shelt'ring breastwork, bore the garrison down, + Scattered them out across the field, destroyed; + Capturing the Swede's whole panoply of war-- + Cannon and standards, kettle-drums and flags. + And had the group of bridges at the Rhyn + Hemmed not our murderous course, not one had lived + Who might have boasted at his father's hearth + At Fehrbellin I saw the hero fall! + +ELECTRESS. Triumph too dearly bought! I like it not. + Give me again the purchase-price it cost. + + [_She falls in a faint._] + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. + Help, God in heaven! Her senses flee from + her. + + [NATALIE _is weeping._] + + + +SCENE VI + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _enters. The others._ + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Natalie, my dearest! + + [_Greatly moved, he presses her hand to his heart._] + +NATALIE. Then it is true? + +THE PRINCE. Could I but answer No! + Could I but pour my loyal heart's blood out + To call his loyal heart back into life! + +NATALIE (_drying her tears_). + Where is his body? Have they found it yet? + +THE PRINCE. Until this hour, alas, my labor was + Vengeance on Wrangle only; how could I + Then dedicate myself to such a task? + A horde of men, however, I sent forth + To seek him on the battle-plains of death. + Ere night I do not doubt that he will come. + +NATALIE. Who now will lead us in this terrible war + And keep these Swedes in subjugation? Who + Shield us against this world of enemies + His fortune won for us, his high renown? + +THE PRINCE (_taking her hand_). + I, lady, take upon myself your cause! + Before the desolate footsteps of your throne + I shall stand guard, an angel with a sword! + The Elector hoped, before the year turned tide, + To see the Marches free. So be it! I + Executor will be of that last will. + +NATALIE. My cousin, dearest cousin! + + [_She withdraws her hand._] + +THE PRINCE. Natalie! + + [_A moment's pause._] + +What holds the future now in store for you? + +NATALIE. After this thunderbolt which cleaves the ground + Beneath my very feet, what can I do? + My father and my precious mother rest + Entombed at Amsterdam; in dust and ashes + Dordrecht, my heritage ancestral lies. + Pressed hard by the tyrannic hosts of Spain + Maurice, my kin of Orange, scarcely knows + How he shall shelter his own flesh and blood. + And now the last support that held my fate's + Frail vine upright falls from me to the earth. + Oh, I am orphaned now a second time! + +THE PRINCE (_throwing his arm about her waist_). + Oh, friend, sweet friend, were this dark hour not given + To grief, to be its own, thus would I speak + Oh, twine your branches here about this breast, + Which, blossoming long years in solitude, + Yearns for the wondrous fragrance of your bells. + +NATALIE. My dear, good cousin! + +THE PRINCE. Will you, will you? + +NATALIE. Ah, + If I might grow into its very marrow! + + [_She lays her head upon his breast._] + +THE PRINCE. What did you say + +NATALIE. Go now! + +THE PRINCE (_holding her_). Into its kernel! + Into the heart's deep kernel, Natalie! + + [_He kisses her. She tears herself away.] + + Dear God, were he for whom we grieve but here + To look upon this union! Could we lift + To him our plea: Father, thy benison! + +[_He hides his face in his hands;_ NATALIE _turns again to the_ +ELECTRESS.] + + + +SCENE VII + +_A sergeant enters in haste. The others as before._ + +SERGEANT. By the Almighty God, my Prince, I scarce + Dare bring to you the rumor that's abroad!-- + The Elector lives! + +THE PRINCE. He lives! + +SERGEANT. By heaven above! + Count Sparren brought the joyful news but now! + +NATALIE. Lord of my days! Oh, mother, did you hear? + +[_She falls down at the feet of the ELECTRESS and embraces her._] + +THE PRINCE. But say! Who brings the news + +SERGEANT. Count George of Sparren, + Who saw him, hale and sound, with his own eyes + At Hackelwitz amid the Truchszian corps. + +THE PRINCE. Quick! Run, old man! And bring him in to me! + + [_The_ SERGEANT _goes out._] + + + +SCENE VIII + +COUNT SPARREN _and the Sergeant enter. The others as before._ + +ELECTRESS. Oh, do not cast me twice down the abyss! + +NATALIE. No, precious mother mine! + +ELECTRESS. And Frederick lives? + +NATALIE (_holding her up with both hands_). + The peaks of life receive you once again! + +SERGEANT (_entering_). + Here is the officer! + +THE PRINCE. Ah, Count von Sparren! + You saw His Highness fresh and well disposed + At Hackelwitz amid the Truchszian corps? + +SPARREN. Indeed, Your Highness, in the vicarage court + Where, compassed by his staff, he gave commands + For burial of both the armies' dead. + +LADIES-IN-WAITING. + Dear heaven! On thy breast-- + + [_They embrace._] + +ELECTRESS. My daughter dear! + +NATALIE. Oh, but this rapture is well-nigh too great! + + [_She buries her face in her aunt's lap._] + +THE PRINCE. Did I not see him, when I stood afar + Heading my cavalry, dashed down to earth, + His horse and he shivered by cannon-shot? + +SPARREN. Indeed, the horse pitched with his rider down, + But he who rode him, Prince, was not our liege. + +THE PRINCE. What? Not our liege? + +NATALIE. Oh, wonderful! + +[_She rises and remains standing beside the_ ELECTRESS.] + +THE PRINCE. Speak then! + Weighty as gold each word sinks to my heart. + +SPARREN. Then let me give you tidings of a deed + So moving, ear has never heard its like. + Our country's liege, who, to remonstrance deaf, + Rode his white horse again, the gleaming white + That Froben erstwhile bought for him in England, + Became once more, as ever was the case, + The target for the foe's artillery. + Scarce could the members of his retinue + Within a ring of hundred yards approach + About there and about, a stream of death, + Hurtled grenades and cannon-shot and shell. + They that had lives to save fled to its banks. + He, the strong swimmer, he alone shrank not, + But beckoning his friends, unswervingly + Made toward the high lands whence the river came. + +THE PRINCE. By heaven, i' faith! A gruesome sight it was! + +SPARREN. Froben, the Master of the Horse who rode + Closest to him of all, called out to me + "Curses this hour on this white stallion's hide, + I bought in London for a stiff round sum! + I'd part with fifty ducats, I'll be bound, + Could I but veil him with a mouse's gray." + With hot misgiving he draws near and cries, + "Highness, your horse is skittish; grant me leave + To give him just an hour of schooling more." + And leaping from his sorrel at the word + He grasps the bridle of our liege's beast. + Our liege dismounts, still smiling, and replies + "As long as day is in the sky, I doubt + If he will learn the art you wish to teach. + But give your lesson out beyond those hills + Where the foe's gunners will not heed his fault." + Thereon he mounts the sorrel, Froben's own, + Returning thence to where his duty calls. + But scarce is Froben mounted on the white + When from a breastwork, oh! a murder-shell + Tears him to earth, tears horse and rider low. + A sacrifice to faithfulness, he falls; + And from him not a sound more did we hear. + + [_Brief pause._] + +THE PRINCE. He is well paid for! Though I had ten lives + I could not lose them in a better cause! + +NATALIE. Valiant old Froben! + +ELECTRESS (_in tears_). Admirable man! + +NATALIE (_also weeping_). + A meaner soul might well deserve our tears! + +THE PRINCE. Enough! To business! Where's the Elector then + Is Hackelwitz headquarters? + +SPARREN. Pardon, sir! + The Elector has proceeded to Berlin + And begs his generals thence to follow him. + +THE PRINCE. What? To Berlin? You mean the war is done? + +SPARREN. Indeed, I marvel that all this is news. + Count Horn, the Swedish general, has arrived; + And, following his coming, out of hand + The armistice was heralded through camp. + A conference, if I discern aright + The Marshal's meaning, is attached thereto + Perchance that peace itself may follow soon. + +ELECTRESS (_rising_). + Dear God, how wondrously the heavens clear! + +THE PRINCE. Come, let us follow straightway to Berlin. + 'Twould speed my journey much if you could spare + A little space for me within your coach?-- + I've just a dozen words to write to Kottwitz, + And on the instant I'll be at your side. + + [_He sits down and writes._] + +ELECTRESS. Indeed, with all my heart! + +THE PRINCE (_folds the note and gives it to the Sergeant; + then, as he turns again to the ELECTRESS, + softly lays his arm about NATALIE's waist_). + I have a wish, + A something timorously to confide + I thought I might give vent to on the road. + +NATALIE (_tearing herself away_). + Bork! Quick! My scarf, I beg-- + +ELECTRESS. A wish to me? + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. + Princess, the scarf is round your neck. + +THE PRINCE (_to the_ ELECTRESS). Indeed! + Can you not guess? + +ELECTRESS. No-- + +THE PRINCE. Not a syllable? + +ELECTRESS (_abruptly_). + What matter? Not a suppliant on earth + Could I deny today, whate'er he ask, + And you, our battle-hero, least of all! + Come! + +THE PRINCE. Mother! Oh, what did you speak? Those words-- + May I interpret them to suit me best? + +ELECTRESS. Be off, I say! More, later, as we ride! + Come, let me have your arm. + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Cæsar Divus! + Lo, I have set a ladder to thy star! + + [_He leads the ladies out. Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE IX + +_Scene: Berlin. Pleasure garden outside the old palace. In the +background the palace chapel with a staircase leading up to it. +Tolling of bells. The church is brightly illuminated. The body of_ +FROBEN _is carried by and set on a splendid catafalque. The_ ELECTOR, +FIELD-MARSHAL DÖRFLING, COLONEL HENNINGS, COUNT TRUCHSZ _and several +other colonels and minor officers enter. From the opposite side enter +various officers with dispatches. In the church as well as in the +square are men, women and children of all ages._ + +ELECTOR. What man soever led the cavalry + Upon the day of battle, and, before + The force of Colonel Hennings could destroy + The bridges of the foe, of his own will + Broke loose, and forced the enemy to flight + Ere I gave order for it, I assert + That man deserves that he be put to death; + I summon him therefore to be court-martialed.-- + Prince Homburg, then, you say, was not the man? + +TRUCHSZ. No, my liege lord! + +ELECTOR. What proof have you of that? + +TRUCHSZ. Men of the cavalry can testify, + Who told me of 't before the fight began: + The Prince fell headlong from his horse, and, hurt + At head and thigh, men found him in a church + Where some one bound his deep and dangerous wounds. + +ELECTOR. Enough! Our victory this day is great, + And in the church tomorrow will I bear + My gratitude to God. Yet though it were + Mightier tenfold, still would it not absolve + Him through whom chance has granted it to me. + More battles still than this have I to fight, + And I demand subjection to the law. + Whoever led the cavalry to battle, + I reaffirm has forfeited his head, + And to court-martial herewith order him.-- + Come, follow me, my friends, into the church. + + + +SCENE X + +_The_ PRINCE of HOMBURG _enters bearing three Swedish flags, followed +by_ COLONEL KOTTWITZ, _bearing two,_ COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN GOLZ, +COUNT REUSS, _each with a flag; and several other officers, corporals, +and troopers carrying flags, kettle-drums and standards._ + +DÖRFLING (_spying the_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG). + The Prince of Homburg!--Truchsz! What did you mean? + +ELECTOR (_amazed_). + Whence came you, Prince? + +THE PRINCE (_stepping forward a few paces_). + From Fehrbellin, my liege, + And bring you thence these trophies of success! + +[_He lays the three flags before him; the officers, corporals and +troopers do likewise, each with his own._] + +ELECTOR (_frigidly_). + I hear that you are wounded, dangerously? + Count Truchsz! + +THE PRINCE (_gaily_). Forgive! + +COUNT TRUCHSZ. By heaven, I'm amazed! + +THE PRINCE. My sorrel fell before the fight began. + This hand a field-leech bandaged up for me + Scarce merits that you call it wounded. + +ELECTOR. So? + In spite of it you led the cavalry? + +THE PRINCE (_regarding him_). + I? Indeed, I! Must you learn that from me? + Here at your feet I laid the proof of that. + +ELECTOR. Relieve him of his sword. He is a prisoner. + +DÖRFLING (_taken aback_). + Whom? +ELECTOR (_stepping among the flags_). + Ah, God greet you, Kottwitz! + +TRUCHSZ (_aside_). Curses on it! + +KOTTWITZ. By God, I'm utterly-- + +ELECTOR (_looking at him_). What did you say? + Look, what a crop mown for our glory here!-- + That flag is of the Swedish Guards, is't not? + + [_He takes up a flag, unwinds it and studies it._] + +KOTTWITZ. My liege? + +DÖRFLING. My lord and master? + +ELECTOR. Ah, indeed! + And from the time of Gustaf Adolf too. + How runs the inscription? + +KOTTWITZ. I believe-- + +DÖRFLING. "_Per aspera ad astra_!" + +ELECTOR. That was not verified at Fehrbellin. + + [_Pause._] + +KOTTWITZ (_hesitantly_). + My liege, grant me a word. + +ELECTOR. What is 't you wish? + Take all the things-flags, kettle-drums and standards, + And hang them in the church. I plan tomorrow + To use them when we celebrate our triumph! + +[_The ELECTOR turns to the couriers, takes their dispatches, opens and + reads them._] + +KOTTWITZ (_aside_). + That, by the living God, that is too much! + +[_After some hesitation, the Colonel takes up his two flags; the other +officers and troopers follow suit. Finally, as the three flags of the_ +PRINCE _remain untouched, he takes up these also, so that he is now +bearing five._] + +AN OFFICER (_stepping up to the_ PRINCE). + Prince, I must beg your sword. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_carrying his flag_). Quiet now, friend. + +THE PRINCE. Speak! Am I dreaming? Waking? Living? Sane? + +GOLZ. Prince, give your sword, I counsel, and say nothing. + +THE PRINCE. A prisoner? I? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Indeed! + +GOLZ. You heard him say it. + +THE PRINCE. And may one know the reason why? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_emphatically_). Not now! + We told you, at the time, you pressed too soon + Into the battle, when the order was + You should not quit your place till you were called. + +THE PRINCE. Help, help, friends, help! I'm going mad! + +GOLZ (_interrupting_). Calm! calm! + +THE PRINCE. Were the Mark's armies beaten then? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a stamp of his foot_). No matter! + The ordinance demands obedience. + +THE PRINCE (_bitterly_). + So--so, so, so! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_turning away from him_). + It will not cost your head. + +GOLZ (_similarly_). + Tomorrow morning, maybe, you'll be free. + +[_The_ ELECTOR _folds his letters and returns to the circle of + officers._] + +THE PRINCE (_after he has unbuckled his sword_). + My cousin Frederick hopes to play the Brutus + And sees himself, on linen drawn with chalk, + Already seated in the curule chair. + The foreground filled with Swedish battle-flags, + And on his desk the ordinance of the Mark. + By God, in me he shall not find a son + Who shall revere him 'neath the hangman's axe! + A German heart of honest cut and grain, + I look for kindness and nobility; + And when he stands before me, frigidly, + This moment, like some ancient man of stone, + I'm sorry for him and I pity him. + + [_He gives his sword to the officer and goes out._] + +ELECTOR. Bring him to camp at Fehrbellin, and there + Assemble the court-martial for his trial. + +[_He enters the church. The flags follow him, and, while he and his +retinue kneel in prayer at_ FROBEN's _coffin, are fastened to the +pilasters. Funeral music._] + + + + +ACT III + +_Scene: Fehrbellin. A prison._ + +SCENE I + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. _Two troopers as guards in the rear._ COUNT + HOHENZOLLERN _enters._ + +THE PRINCE. Faith, now, friend Harry! Welcome, man, you are! + Well, then, I'm free of my imprisonment? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_amazed_). + Lord in the heavens be praised! + +THE PRINCE. What was that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Free? + So then he's sent you back your sword again? + +THE PRINCE. Me? No. + +HOHENZOLLERN. No? + +THE PRINCE. No. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Then how can you be free? + +THE PRINCE (after a pause). + I thought that _you_ were bringing it.--What of it? + +HOHENZOLL. I know of nothing. + +THE PRINCE. Well, you heard: What of it? + He'll send some other one to let me know. + + [_He turns and brings chairs._] + + Sit down. Now come and tell me all the news. + Has he returned, the Elector, from Berlin? + +HOHENZOLL. Yes. Yester eve. + +THE PRINCE. And did they celebrate + The victory as planned?--Assuredly! + And he was at the church himself, the Elector? + +HOHENZOLL. With the Electress and with Natalie. + The church was wonderfully bright with lights; + Upon the palace-square artillery + Through the _Te Deum_ spoke with solemn splendor. + The Swedish flags and standards over us + Swung from the church's columns, trophy-wise, + And, on the sovereign's express command, + Your name was spoken from the chancel high, + Your name was spoken, as the victor's name. + +THE PRINCE. I heard that.--Well, what other news? What's yours? + Your face, my friend, is scarcely frolicsome. + +HOHENZOLL. Have you seen anybody? + +THE PRINCE. Golz, just now, + I' the Castle where, you know, I had my trial. + + [_Pause._] + +HOHENZOLLERN (_regarding him doubtfully_). + What do you think of your position, Arthur, + Since it has suffered such a curious change? + +THE PRINCE. What you and Golz and even the judges think-- + The Elector has fulfilled what duty asked, + And now he'll do as well the heart's behest. + Thus he'll address me, gravely: You have erred + (Put in a word perhaps of "death" and "fortress"), + But I grant you your liberty again-- + And round the sword that won his victory + Perhaps there'll even twine some mark of grace; + If not that, good; I did not merit that. + +HOHENZOLL. Oh, Arthur! [_He pauses._] + +THE PRINCE. Well? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Are you so very sure? + +THE PRINCE. So I have laid it out. I know he loves me, + He loves me like a son; since early childhood + A thousand signs have amply proven that. + What doubt is in your heart that stirs you so? + Has he not ever seemed to take more joy + Than I myself to see my young fame grow? + All that I am, am I not all through him? + And he should now unkindly tread in dust + The plant himself has nurtured, just because + Too swiftly opulent it flowered forth? + I'll not believe his worst foe could think that-- + And far less you who know and cherish him. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_significantly_). + Arthur, you've stood your trial in court-martial, + And you believe that still? + +THE PRINCE. _Because_ of it! + No one, by heaven alive, would go so far + Who did not have a pardon up his sleeve! + Even there, before the judgment bar, it was-- + Even there it was, my confidence returned. + Come, was it such a capital offense + Two little seconds ere the order said + To have laid low the stoutness of the Swede? + What other felony is on my conscience? + And could he summon me, unfeelingly, + Before this board of owl-like judges, chanting + Their litanies of bullets and the grave, + Did he not purpose with a sovereign word + To step into their circle like a god? + No, he is gathering this night of cloud + About my head, my friend, that he may dawn + Athwart the gloomy twilight like the sun! + And, faith, this pleasure I begrudge him not! + +HOHENZOLL. And yet, they say, the court has spoken judgment. + +THE PRINCE. I heard so: death. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_amazed_). You know it then--so soon? + +THE PRINCE. Golz, who was present when they brought the verdict + Gave me report of how the judgment fell. + +HOHENZOLL. My God, man! And it stirred you not at all? + +THE PRINCE. Me? Why, not in the least! + +HOHENZOLLERN. You maniac! + On what then do you prop your confidence? + +THE PRINCE. On what I feel of him! [_He rises._] No more, I beg. + Why should I fret with insubstantial doubts? + + [_He bethinks himself and sits down again. Pause._] + + The court was forced to make its verdict death; + For thus the statute reads by which they judge. + But ere he let that sentence be fulfilled-- + Ere, at a kerchief's fall, he yields this heart + That loves him truly, to the muskets' fire, + Ere that, I say, he'll lay his own breast bare + And spill his own blood, drop by drop, in dust. + +HOHENZOLL. But, Arthur, I assure you-- + +THE PRINCE (_petulantly_). Oh, my dear! + +HOHENZOLL. The Marshal-- + +THE PRINCE (_still petulantly_). Come, enough! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Hear two words more! + If those make no impression, I'll be mute. + +THE PRINCE (_turning to him again_). + I told you, I know all. Well, now, what is it? + +HOHENZOLL. Most strange it is, a moment since, the Marshal + Delivered him the warrant for your death. + It leaves him liberty to pardon you, + But he, instead, has given the command + That it be brought him for his signature. + +THE PRINCE. No matter, I repeat! + +HOHENZOLLERN. No matter? + +THE PRINCE. For-- + His signature? + +HOHENZOLLERN. By faith, I do assure you! + +THE PRINCE. The warrant?--No! The verdict-- + +HOHENZOLLERN. The death warrant. + +THE PRINCE. Who was it told you that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Marshal. + +THE PRINCE. When? + +HOHENZOLL. Just now. + +THE PRINCE. Returning from the sovereign? + +HOHENZOLL. The stairs descending from the sovereign. + And added, when he saw my startled face, + That nothing yet was lost, and that the dawn + Would bring another day for pardoning. + But the dead pallor of his lips disproved + Their spoken utterance, with, I fear it--no! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + He could--I'll not believe it!--bring to birth + Such monstrous resolutions in his heart? + For a defect, scarce visible to the lens, + In the bright diamond he but just received, + Tread in the dust the giver? 'Twere a deed + To burn the Dey of Algiers white: with wings + Like those that silver-gleam on cherubim + To dizen Sardanapalus, and cast + The assembled tyrannies of ancient Rome, + Guiltless as babes that die on mother-breast, + Over upon the favor-hand of God! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_who has likewise risen_). + My friend, you must convince yourself of that! + +THE PRINCE. The Marshal then was silent, said nought else? + +HOHENZOLL. What should he say? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, heaven, my hope, my hope! + +HOHENZOLL. Come, have you ever done a thing, perchance, + Be it unconsciously or consciously, + That might have given his lofty heart offense? + +THE PRINCE. Never! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Consider! + +THE PRINCE. Never, by high heaven! + The very shadow of his head was sacred. + +HOHENZOLL. Do not be angry, Arthur, if I doubt. + Count Horn has come, the Ambassador of Sweden, + And I am told with all authority + His business concerns the Princess Orange. + A word her aunt, the Electress, spoke, they say, + Has cut the sovereign to the very quick; + They say, the lady has already chosen. + Are you in no way tangled up in this? + +THE PRINCE. Dear God, what are you saying? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Are you? Are you? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend, I am! And now all things are clear! + It is that wooing that destroys me quite. + I am accountable if she refuse, + Because the Princess is betrothed to me. + +HOHENZOLL. You feather-headed fool, what have you done? + How often have I warned you, loyally! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend! Then help me! Save me! I am lost! + +HOHENZOLL. Ay, what expedient saves us in this gloom? + Come, would you like to see her aunt, the Electress? + +THE PRINCE (_turning_). + Ho, watch! + +TROOPER (_in the background_). Here! + +THE PRINCE. Go, and call your officer! + +[_He hastily takes a cloak from the wall and puts on a plumed hat +lying on the table._] + +HOHENZOLLERN (_as he assists him_) + Adroitly used, this step may spell salvation. + For if the Elector can but make the peace, + By the determined forfeit, with King Charles, + His heart, you soon shall see, will turn to you, + And in brief time you will be free once more. + + + +SCENE II + + _The officer enters. The others as before._ + +THE PRINCE (_to the officer_). + Stranz, they have put me in your custody; + Grant me my freedom for an hour's time. + I have some urgent business on my mind. + +OFFICER. Not in my custody are you, my lord. + The order given me declares that I + Shall leave you free to go where you desire. + +THE PRINCE. Most odd! Then I am not a prisoner? + +OFFICER. Your word of honor is a fetter, too. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_preparing to go_). + 'Twill do! No matter. + +THE PRINCE. So. Then fare you well. + +HOHENZOLL. The fetter follows hard upon the Prince. + +THE PRINCE. I go but to the Castle, to my aunt, + And in two minutes I am back again. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE III + +_Room of the_ ELECTRESS. _The_ ELECTRESS _and_ NATALIE _enter_. + +ELECTRESS. Come, daughter mine, come now! This is your hour. + Count Gustaf Horn, the Swedes' ambassador, + And all the company have left the Castle; + There is a light in Uncle's study still. + Come, put your kerchief on and steal on him, + And see if you can rescue yet your friend. + + [_They are about to go._] + + + +SCENE IV + +_A lady-in-waiting enters. Others as before._ + +LADY-IN-WAITING. + Madam, the Prince of Homburg's at the door. + But I am hardly sure that I saw right. + +ELECTRESS. Dear God! + +NATALIE. Himself? + +ELECTRESS. Is he not prisoner? + +LADY-IN-WAITING. + He stands without, in plumed hat and cloak, + And begs in urgent terror to be heard. + +ELECTRESS (_distressed_). + Impulsive boy! To go and break his word! + +NATALIE. Who knows what may torment him? + +ELECTRESS (_after a moment in thought_). Let him come! + + [_She seats herself._] + + + +SCENE V + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _enters. The others as before._ + +THE PRINCE (_throwing himself at the feet of the_ ELECTRESS). + Oh, mother! + +ELECTRESS. Prince! What are you doing here? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, let me clasp your knees, oh, mother mine! + +ELECTRESS (_with suppressed emotion_). + You are a prisoner, Prince, and you come hither? + Why will you heap new guilt upon the old? + +THE PRINCE (_urgently_). + Oh, do you know what they have done? + +ELECTRESS. Yes, all. + But what can I do, helpless I, for you? + +THE PRINCE. You would not speak thus, mother mine, if death + Had ever terribly encompassed you + As it doth me. With potencies of heaven, + You and my lady, these who serve you, all + The world that rings me round, seem blest to save. + The very stable-boy, the meanest, least, + That tends your horses, pleading I could hang + About his neck, crying: Oh, save me, thou! + I, only I, alone on God's wide earth + Am helpless, desolate, and impotent. + +ELECTRESS. You are beside yourself! What has occurred? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, on the way that led me to your side, + I saw in torchlight where they dug the grave + That on the morrow shall receive my bones! + Look, Aunt, these eyes that gaze upon you now, + These eyes they would eclipse with night, this breast + Pierce and transpierce with murderous musketry. + The windows on the Market that shall close + Upon the weary show are all reserved; + And one who, standing on life's pinnacle, + Today beholds the future like a realm + Of faery spread afar, tomorrow lies + Stinking within the compass of two boards, + And over him a stone recounts: _He was_. + +[_The_ PRINCESS, _who until now has stood in the background supporting +herself on the shoulder of one of the ladies-in-waiting, sinks into a +chair, deeply moved at his words, and begins to weep._] + +ELECTRESS. My son, if such should be the will of heaven, + You will go forth with courage and calm soul. + +THE PRINCE. God's world, O mother, is so beautiful! + Oh, let me not, before my hour strike, + Descend, I plead, to those black shadow-forms! + Why, why can it be nothing but the bullet? + Let him depose me from my offices, + With rank cashierment, if the law demands, + Dismiss me from the army. God of heaven! + Since I beheld my grave, life, life, I want, + And do not ask if it be kept with honor. + +ELECTRESS. Arise, my son, arise! What were those words? + You are too deeply moved. Control yourself! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Aunt, not ere you promise on your soul, + With a prostration that shall save my life + Pleading to go before the sovereign presence. + Hedwig, your childhood friend, gave me to you, + Dying at Homburg, saying as she died: + Be you his mother when I am no more. + Moved to the depths, kneeling beside her bed, + Over her spent hand bending, you replied: + Yea, he shall be to me as mine own child. + Now, I remind you of the vow you made! + Go to him, go, as though I were your child, + Crying, I plead for mercy! Set him free! + Oh, and return to me, and say: 'Tis so! + +ELECTRESS (_weeping_). + Belovèd son! All has been done, erewhile. + But all my supplications were in vain. + +THE PRINCE. I give up every claim to happiness. + And tell him this, forget it not, that I + Desire Natalie no more, for her + All tenderness within my heart is quenched. + Free as the doe upon the meads is she, + Her hand and lips, as though I'd never been, + Freely let her bestow, and if it be + The Swede Karl Gustaf, I commend her choice. + I will go seek my lands upon the Rhine. + There will I build and raze again to earth + With sweating brow, and sow and gather in, + As though for wife and babe, enjoy alone; + And when the harvest's gathered, sow again, + And round and round the treadmill chase my days + Until at evening they sink down, and die. + +ELECTRESS. Enough! Now take your way home to your prison-- + That is the first demand my favor makes. + +THE PRINCE (_rises and turns toward the_ PRINCESS). + Poor little girl, you weep! The sun today + Lights all your expectations to their grave! + Your heart decided from the first on me; + Indeed, your look declares, that, true as gold, + You ne'er shall dedicate your heart anew. + Oh, what can I, poor devil, say to comfort? + Go to the Maiden's Chapter on the Main, + I counsel you, go to your cousin Thurn. + Seek in the hills a boy, light-curled as I, + Buy him with gold and silver, to your breast + Press him, and teach his lips to falter: Mother. + And when he grows to manhood, show him well + How men draw shut the eyelids of the dead. + That is the only joy that lies your way! + +NATALIE (_bravely and impressively, as she rises and lays + her hand in his_). + Return, young hero, to your prison walls, + And, on your passage, imperturbably + Regard once more the grave they dug for you. + It is not gloomier, nor more wide at all + Than those the battle showed a thousand times. + Meanwhile, since I am true to you till death, + A saving word I'll chance, unto my kin. + It may avail, perhaps, to move his heart + And disenthrall you from all misery. + + [_Pause._] + +THE PRINCE (_folding his hands, as he stands lost in contemplation + of her_). + An you had pinions on your shoulders, maid, + Truly I should be sure you were an angel! + Dear God, did I hear right? You speak for me? + Where has the quiver of your speech till now + Lain hid, dear child, that you should dare approach + The sovereign in matters such as this? + Oh, light of hope, reviving me once more! + +NATALIE. The darts that find the marrow God will hand me! + But if the Elector cannot move the law's + Outspoken word, cannot--so be it! Then + Bravely to him the brave man will submit. + And he, the conqueror a thousand times, + Living, will know to conquer too in death! + +ELECTRESS. Make haste! The favorable hour flies by! + +THE PRINCE. Now may all holy spirits guard your way! + Farewell, farewell! Whate'er the outcome be, + Grant me a word to tell me how you fared. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +ACT IV + +_Scene: Room of the_ ELECTOR. + +SCENE I + +_The_ ELECTOR _is standing with documents in his hand near a table set +with lights_. NATALIE _enters through the centre door and, still some +distance away, falls on her knees to him_. + +NATALIE. My noble uncle Frederick of the Mark! + +ELECTOR (_laying the papers aside_). + My Natalie! + + [_He seeks to raise her._] + +NATALIE. No, no! + +ELECTOR. What is your wish? + +NATALIE. As it behooves me, at your feet in dust + To plead your pardon for my cousin Homburg. + Not for myself I wish to know him safe-- + My heart desires him and confesses it-- + Not for myself I wish to know him safe; + Let him go wed whatever wife he will. + I only ask, dear uncle, that he live, + Free, independent, unallied, unbound, + Even as a flower in which I find delight; + For this I plead, my sovereign lord and friend, + And such entreaty you will heed, I know. + +ELECTOR (_raising her to her feet_). + My little girl! What words escaped your lips? + Are you aware of how your cousin Homburg + Lately offended? + +NATALIE. But, dear uncle! + +ELECTOR. Well? + Was it so slight? + +NATALIE. Oh, this blond fault, blue-eyed, + Which even ere it faltered: Lo, I pray! + Forgiveness should raise up from the earth-- + Surely you will not spurn it with your foot? + Why, for its mother's sake, for her who bore it, + You'll press it to your breast and cry: "Weep not! + For you are dear as loyalty herself." + Was it not ardor for your name's renown + That lured him in the fight's tumultuous midst + To burst apart the confines of the law? + And oh, once he had burst the bonds asunder, + Trod he not bravely on the serpent's head? + To crown him first because he triumphs, then + Put him to death--that, surely, history + Will not demand of you. Dear uncle mine, + That were so stoical and so sublime + That men might almost deem it was inhuman! + And God made nothing more humane than you. + +ELECTOR. Sweet child, consider! If I were a tyrant, + I am indeed aware your words ere now + Had thawed the heart beneath the iron breast. + But this I put to you: Have I the right + To quash the verdict which the court has passed? + What would the issue be of such an act? + +NATALIE. For whom? For you? + +ELECTOR. For me? No! Bah! For me! + My girl, know you no higher law than me! + Have you no inkling of a sanctuary + That in the camp men call the fatherland? + +NATALIE. My liege! Why fret your soul? Because of such + Upstirring of your grace, this fatherland + Will not this moment crash to rack and ruin! + The camp has been your school. And, look, what there + You term unlawfulness, this act, this free + Suppression of the verdict of the court, + Appears to me the very soul of law. + The laws of war, I am aware, must rule; + The heart, however, has its charter, too. + The fatherland your hands upbuilt for us, + My noble uncle, is a fortress strong, + And other greater storms indeed will bear + Than this unnecessary victory. + Majestically through the years to be + It shall uprise, beneath your line expand, + Grow beautiful with towers, luxuriant, + A fairy country, the felicity + Of those who love it, and the dread of foes. + It does not need the cold cementing seal + Of a friend's life-blood to outlast the calm + And glorious autumn of my uncle's days! + +ELECTOR. And cousin Homburg thinks this? + +NATALIE. Cousin Homburg? + +ELECTOR. Does he believe it matters not at all + If license rule the fatherland, or law? + +NATALIE. This poor dear boy! + +ELECTOR. Well, now? + +NATALIE. Oh, uncle dear, + To that I have no answer save my tears! + +ELECTOR (_in surprise_). + Why that, my little girl? What has befallen? + +NATALIE (_falteringly_). + He thinks of nothing now but one thing: rescue! + The barrels at the marksmen's shoulders peer + So ghastly, that, giddy and amazed, + Desire is mute, save one desire: To live. + The whole great nation of the Mark might sink + To wrack mid flare and thunderbolt; and he + Stand by nor even ask: What comes to pass?-- + Oh, what a hero's heart have you brought low? + + [_She turns away, sobbing._] + +ELECTOR (_utterly amazed_). + No, dearest Natalie! No, no, indeed! + Impossible!--He pleads for clemency? + +NATALIE. If you had only, only not condemned him! + +ELECTOR. Come, tell me, come! He pleads for clemency? + What has befallen, child? Why do you sob? + You met? Come, tell me all. You spoke with him? + +NATALIE (_pressed against his breast_). + In my aunt's chambers but a moment since, + Whither in mantle, lo, and plumèd hat + Stealthily through the screening dusk he came-- + Furtive, perturbed, abashed, unworthy all, + A miserable, pitiable sight. + I never guessed a man could sink so low + Whom history applauded as her hero. + For look--I am a woman and I shrink + From the mere worm that draws too near my foot; + But so undone, so void of all control, + So unheroic quite, though lion-like + Death fiercely came, he should not find me thus! + Oh, what is human greatness, human fame! + +ELECTOR (_confused_). + Well, then, by God of heaven and of earth! + Take courage, then, my girl, for he is free! + +NATALIE. What, my liege lord? + +ELECTOR. I pardon him, I say! + I'll send the necessary word at once. + +NATALIE. Oh, dearest, is it really true? + +ELECTOR. You heard. + +NATALIE. You will forgive him? And he need not die? + +ELECTOR. Upon my word! I swear it! How shall I + Oppose myself to such a warrior's judgment? + Within my heart of hearts, as you know well, + I deeply do esteem his inner sense; + If he can say the verdict is unjust, + I cancel the indictment; he is free! + + [_He brings her a chair._] + + Will you sit here and wait a little while? + +[_He goes to the table, seats himself and writes. Pause._] + +NATALIE (_softly_). + Why dost thou knock so at thy house, my heart? + +ELECTOR (_writing_). + The Prince is over in the Castle? + +NATALIE. Pardon! + He has returned to his captivity. + +ELECTOR (_finishes his letter and seals it; thereupon he returns + with the letter to the_ PRINCESS). + Well, well, my little niece, my daughter, wept! + And I, whose place it is to make her glad + Was forced to cloud the heaven of her fair eyes! + + [_He puts his arm about her_.] + + Will you go bring the note to him yourself? + +NATALIE. How? To the City Hall? + +ELECTOR (_presses the letter into her hand_). + Why not? Ho, lackeys! + + [_Enter lackeys_.] + + Go, have the carriage up! Her ladyship + Has urgent business with Colonel Homburg. + + [_The lackeys go out_.] + + Now he can thank you for his life forthwith. + + [_He embraces her_.] + + Dear child, and do you like me now once more? + +NATALIE (_after a pause_). + I do not know and do not seek to know + What woke your favor, liege, so suddenly. + But truly this, I feel this in my heart, + You would not make ignoble sport of me. + The letter hold whate'er it may--I trust + That it hold pardon--and I thank you for it. + + [_She kisses his hand_.] + +ELECTOR. Indeed, my little girl, indeed. As sure + As pardon lies in Cousin Homburg's wish. + + + +SCENE II + +_Room of the_ PRINCESS. _Enter_ PRINCESS NATALIE, _followed by two +ladies-in-waiting and Captain of Cavalry_, COUNT REUSS. + +NATALIE (_precipitantly_). + What is it, Count? About my regiment? + Is it of moment? Can it wait a day? + +REUSS (_handing her a letter_). + Madam, a note for you from Colonel Kottwitz. + +NATALIE (_opening it_). + Quick, give it me! What's in it? + +REUSS. A petition, + Frankly addressed, though deferentially, + As you will note, to our liege lord, his Highness, + In furtherance of our chief, the Prince of Homburg. + +NATALIE (_reading_). + "Petition, loyally presented by + The regiment of Princess Orange"--so. + + [_Pause._] + + This document--whose hand composed it, pray? + +REUSS. As the formations of the dizzy script + May let you guess, by none but Colonel Kottwitz. + His noble name stands foremost on the list. + +NATALIE. The thirty signatures which follow it? + +REUSS. The names of officers, most noble lady, + Each following each according to his rank. + +NATALIE. And they sent me the supplication--me? + +REUSS. My lady, most submissively to beg + If you, our colonel, likewise, at their head + Will fill the space left vacant, with your name? + + [_Pause._] + +NATALIE. Indeed, I hear, the Prince, my noble kinsman, + By our lord's own volition shall be freed, + Wherefore there scarce is need for such a step. + +REUSS (_delighted_). + What? Truly? + +NATALIE. Yet I'll not deny my hand + Upon a document, which, wisely used, + May prove a weight upon the scales to turn + Our sovereign's decision--even prove + Welcome, mayhap, to introduce the issue. + According to your wish, therefore, I set + Myself here at your head and write my name. + + [_She goes to a desk and is about to write._] + +REUSS. Indeed, you have our lively gratitude! + + [_Pause._] + +NATALIE (_turning to him again_). + My regiment alone I find, Count Reuss! + Why do I miss the Bomsdorf Cuirassiers + And the dragoons of Götz and Anhalt-Pless? + +REUSS. Not, as perchance you fear, because their hearts + Are cooler in their throbbing than our own. + It proves unfortunate for our petition + That Kottwitz is in garrison apart + At Arnstein, while the other regiments + Are quartered in the city here. Wherefore + The document lacks freedom easily + In all directions to expand its force. + +NATALIE. Yet, as it stands, the plea seems all too thin.-- + Are you sure, Count, if you were on the spot + To interview the gentlemen now here, + That they as well would sign the document? + +REUSS. Here in the city, madam? Head for head! + The entire cavalry would pledge itself + With signatures. By God, I do believe + That a petition might be safely launched + Amid the entire army of the Mark! + +NATALIE (_after a pause_). + Why does not some one send out officers + To carry on the matter in the camp? + +REUSS. Pardon! The Colonel put his foot on that. + He said that he desired to do no act + That men might christen with an ugly name. + +NATALIE. Queer gentleman! Now bold, now timorous! + But it occurs to me that happily + The Elector, pressed by other business, + Charged me to issue word that Kottwitz, cribbed + Too close in his position, march back hither. + I will sit down at once and do it! + + [_She sits down and writes._] + +REUSS. By Heaven, + Most excellent, my lady! An event + That could not timelier prove for our petition! + +NATALIE (_as she writes_). + Use it, Count Reuss, as well as you know how. + +[_She finishes her note, seals it and rises to her feet again._] + + Meanwhile this note, you understand, remains + In your portfolio; you will not go + To Arnstein with it, nor convey 't to Kottwitz + Until I give more definite command. + + [_She gives him the letter._] + +A LACKEY (_entering_). + According to the sovereign's order, madam, + The coach is ready in the yard, and waiting. + +NATALIE. Go, call it to the door. I'll come at once. + +[_Pause, during which she steps thoughtfully to the table and draws on +her gloves._] + + Count, I desire to interview Prince Homburg. + Will you escort me thither? In my coach + There is a place I put at your disposal. + +REUSS. Madam, a great distinction, I assure you-- + + [_He offers her his arm._] + +NATALIE (_to the ladies-in-waiting_). + Follow, my friends!--It well may be that there + I shall decide about the note erelong. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE III + +_The_ PRINCE'S _cell. The_ PRINCE Of HOMBURG _hangs his hat on the wall + and sinks, carelessly reclining, on a mattress spread out on the floor._ + +THE PRINCE. The dervish calls all life a pilgrimage, + And that, a brief one. True!--Of two short spans + This side of earth to two short spans below. + I will recline upon the middle path. + The man who bears his head erect today + No later than tomorrow on his breast + Bows it, all tremulous. Another dawn, + And, lo, it lies a skull beside his heel! + Indeed, there is a sun, they say, that shines + On fields beyond e'en brighter than these fields. + I do believe it; only pity 'tis + The eye, that shall perceive the splendor, rots. + + + +SCENE IV + +_Enter_ PRINCESS NATALIE _on the arm of_ COUNT REUSS, _and followed by + ladies-in-waiting. A footman with a torch precedes them. The_ PRINCE + OF HOMBURG. + +FOOTMAN. Her Highness Princess Natalie of Orange! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + Natalie! + +FOOTMAN. Here she comes herself! + +NATALIE (_with a bow to the COUNT_). I beg + Leave us a little moment to ourselves. + + [COUNT REUSS _and the footman go._] + +THE PRINCE. Beloved lady! + +NATALIE. Dear good cousin mine! + +THE PRINCE (_leading her up stage_). + What is your news? Speak! How stand things with me? + +NATALIE. Well. All is well, just as I prophesied. + Pardoned are you, and free; here is a letter + Writ by his hand to verify my words. + +THE PRINCE. It cannot be! No, no! It is a dream! + +NATALIE. Read! Read the letter! See it for yourself! + +THE PRINCE (_reading_). + "My Prince of Homburg, when I made you prisoner + Because of your too premature attack, + I thought that I was doing what was right-- + No more; and reckoned on your acquiescence. + If you believe that I have been unjust, + Tell me, I beg you in a word or two, + And forthwith I will send you back your sword." + +[NATALIE _turns pale. Pause. The_ PRINCE _regards her questioningly._] + +NATALIE (_feigning sudden joy_). + Well, there it stands! It only needs two words, + My dear, sweet friend! + + [_She presses his hand._] + +THE PRINCE. Ah, precious lady mine! + +NATALIE. Oh, blessed hour that dawns across my world! + Here, take it, take the pen, take it and write. + +THE PRINCE. And here the signature? + +NATALIE. The F--his mark! + Oh, Bork! Be glad with me. His clemency + Is limitless, I knew it, as the sea! + Do bring a chair, for he must write at once. + +THE PRINCE. He says, if I believed-- + + NATALIE (_interrupting_). Why, yes, of course! + Quick now! Sit down. I'll tell you what to say. + + [_She sets a chair in place for him._] + +THE PRINCE. I wish to read the letter once again. + +NATALIE (_tearing the letter from his hand_). + Why so? Did you not see the pit already + Yawning beneath you in the graveyard yonder? + The time is urgent. Come, sit down and write. + +THE PRINCE (_smiling_). + Truly, you act as though it had the power + To plump down, panther-fashion, on my back. + + [_He sits down and seizes a pen._] + +NATALIE (_turning away with a sob_). + Write, if you do not want to make me cross. + + [_The_ PRINCE _rings for a lackey, who enters._] + +THE PRINCE. Bring pen and paper, seal and sealing-wax. + +[_The lackey, having collected these and given them to the_ PRINCE, +_goes out. The_ PRINCE _writes. Pause, during which he tears the +letter he has begun in two and throws the pieces under the table_.] + + A silly opening! + + [_He takes another sheet_.] + +NATALIE (_picking up the letter_). What did you say? + Good heavens! Why, it's right, it's excellent. + +THE PRINCE (_under his breath_). + Bah! That's a blackguard's wording, not a Prince's. + I'll try to put it in some other way. + +[_Pause. He clutches at the_ ELECTOR'S _letter which the_ PRINCESS +_holds in her hand._] + + What is it, anyway, his letter says? + +NATALIE (_keeping it from him_). + Nothing at all! + +THE PRINCE. Give it to me! + +NATALIE. You read it! + +THE PRINCE (_snatches it from her_). + What if I did? I only want to see + How I'm to phrase my answer. + +NATALIE (_to herself_). God of earth! + Now all is done with him! + +THE PRINCE (_surprised_). Why, look at this! + As I'm alive, most curious! You must + Have overlooked the passage. + +NATALIE. Why! Which one? + +THE PRINCE. He calls on me to judge the case myself! + +NATALIE. Well, what of that? + +THE PRINCE. Gallant, i' faith, and fine! + Exactly what a noble soul would say! + +NATALIE. His magnanimity is limitless! + But you, too, friend, do _your_ part now, and write, + As he desires. All that is needed now + Is but the pretext, but the outer form. + As soon as those two words are in his hands, + Presto, the quarrel's at an end. + +THE PRINCE (_putting the letter away_). No, dear! + I want to think it over till tomorrow. + +NATALIE. Incomprehensible! Oh, what a change! + But why, but why? + +THE PRINCE (_rising in passionate excitement_). + I beg you, ask me not! + You did not ponder what the letter said. + That he did me a wrong--and that's the crux-- + I cannot tell him that. And if you force me + To give him answer in my present mood, + By God, it's this I'll tell him--"You did right!" + +[_He sinks down beside the table, again with folded arms, and stares +at the letter._] + +NATALIE (_pale_). + You imbecile, you! What a thing to say! + + [_She bends over him, deeply stirred_.] + +THE PRINCE (_pressing her hand_). + Come, just a second now! I think-- + + [_He ponders_.] + +NATALIE. What is it? + +THE PRINCE. I'll know soon now what I shall write to him. + +NATALIE (_painfully_). + Homburg! + +THE PRINCE (_taking up his pen_) + Yes, dear. What is it? + +NATALIE. Sweetest friend! + I prize the impulse that upstirred your heart; + But this I swear to you: the regiment + Has been detailed, whose muskets are to sound + At dawn the reconciling burial rite + Above the grave where your dead body lies. + If you cannot resist the law's decree, + Nor, noble as you are, do what he asks + Here in this letter to repeal it, then + I do assure you he will loftily + Accept the situation, and fulfil + The sentence on the morrow ruthlessly. + +THE PRINCE (_writing_). + No matter! + +NATALIE. What? No matter? + +THE PRINCE. Let him do + What his soul bids. I must do what I must. + +NATALIE (_approaching him frightened_). + Oh, terrible! You are not writing there? + +THE PRINCE (_concluding_). + "Homburg!" And dated, "Fehrbellin, the twelfth." + So, it's all ready. Frank! + + [_He closes and seals the letter_.] + +NATALIE. Dear God in heaven! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + Here, take this to the Castle to my liege! + + [_The lackey goes out_.] + + I will not face man who faces me + So nobly, with a knave's ignoble front! + Guilt, heavy guilt, upon my conscience weighs, + I fully do confess. Can he but grant + Forgiveness, when I contest for it, + I do not care a straw for any pardon. + +NATALIE (_kissing him_). + This kiss, for me! And though twelve bullets made + You dust this instant, I could not resist + Caroling, sobbing, crying: Thus you please me! + However, since you follow your heart's lead, + I may be pardoned if I follow mine. + Count Reuss! + + [_The footman opens the door. The_ COUNT _enters_.] + +REUSS. Here! + +NATALIE. Go, and bear the note I gave + Post-haste to Arnstein and to Colonel Kottwitz! + The regiment shall march, our liege directs. + Ere midnight I shall look to see it here! + + [_Exeunt omnes_.] + + + +ACT V + +_Scene: a hall in the Castle._ + +SCENE I + +_The_ ELECTOR, _scantily clad, enters from the adjoining chamber, +followed by_ COUNT TRUCHSZ, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, _and_ CAPTAIN VON DER +GOLZ. _Pages with lights_. + +ELECTOR. Kottwitz? And with the Princess's dragoons? + Here in the town? + +TRUCHSZ (_opening the window_). Indeed, my sovereign! + Drawn up before the Castle, here he is! + +ELECTOR. Well? Will you read the riddle, gentlemen? + Who called him hither? + +HOHENZOLLERN. I know not, my liege. + +ELECTOR. The place I set him at is known as Arnstein! + Make haste, some one, and go and bring him in. + +GOLZ. He will appear forthwith, my sovereign. + +ELECTOR. Where is he? + +GOLZ. At the City Hall, I hear, + Where the entire generality, + That bears obedience to your house, is met. + +ELECTOR. But why? What is the object? + +HOHENZOLLERN. I know not. + +TRUCHSZ. My prince and lord, will you vouchsafe that we + Likewise betake ourselves a moment thither? + +ELECTOR. Whither? The City Hall? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The lords' assemblage. + We gave our word of honor to appear. + +ELECTOR (_after a short pause_). + You are dismissed! + +GOLZ. Come, follow, gentlemen! + + [_The officers go out_.] + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ ELECTOR. _Later, two footmen._ + +ELECTOR. Most curious! Were I the Dey of Tunis + I'd sound alarm at such a dubious move, + Lay on my desk despair's thin silken cord, + And at my palisaded castle-gate + Set up my heavy guns and howitzers. + But since it's just Hans Kottwitz from the Priegnitz + Who marches on me of his own sweet will + I'll treat the matter in the Mark's own way; + Of the three curls that gleam so silvery + On his old skull, I'll take firm hold of one + And lead him calmly with his squadrons twelve + To Arnstein, his headquarters, back again. + Why wake the city from its slumber thus? + +[_He goes to the window a moment, then returns to the table and rings +a bell. Two lackeys enter_.] + + Do run below and ask, as for yourself, + What's doing in the City Hall. + +1st LACKEY. At once! + + [_He goes out._] + +ELECTOR (_to the other_). + But you go now and fetch me my apparel. + +[_The lackey goes and brings it. The_ ELECTOR _attires himself and +dons his princely insignia._] + + + +SCENE III + +FIELD-MARSHAL DÖRFLING _enters. The others as before._ + +DÖRFLING. Rebellion, my Elector! + +ELECTOR (_still occupied with his clothes_). Calm yourself! + You know that I detest to have my room + Without a warning word, invaded thus. + What do you want? + +MARSHAL. Forgive me! An affair + Of special consequence has brought me hither. + Unordered, Colonel Kottwitz moved his force + Into the city; hundred officers + Are gathered round him in the armor-hall. + From hand to hand a paper passes round + That purposes encroachment on your rights. + +ELECTOR. I am informed of it. What can it be + Except a ferment friendly to the Prince + On whom the law has laid the sentence, death? + +MARSHAL. 'Tis so, by God on high! You struck it right! + +ELECTOR. Well, then, and good. My heart is in their midst. + +MARSHAL. The rumor goes the maniacs intend + This very night to hand you their petition + Here in the Castle; and should you persist + In carrying out, irreconcilably, + The sentence--scarce I dare to bring you this!-- + To liberate him from his bonds by force! + +ELECTOR (_sombrely_). + Come now, who told you that? + +MARSHAL. Who told me that? + The lady Retzow, cousin of my wife, + Whom you may trust. She spent this evening + In Bailiff Retzow's, in her uncle's house, + And heard some officers who came from camp + Brazenly utter this audacious plan. + +ELECTOR. A man must tell me that ere I'll believe it. + I'll set this boot of mine before his house + To keep him safe from these young heroes' + hands! + +MARSHAL. My lord, I beg you, if it be your will, + To grant the Prince his pardon after all: + Fulfil it ere an odious deed be done. + You know that every army loves its hero. + Let not this spark which kindles in it now + Spread out and wax a wild consuming fire. + Nor Kottwitz nor the crowd he has convened + Are yet aware my faithful word has warned you. + Ere he appears, send back the Prince's sword, + Send it, as, after all, he has deserved. + One piece of chivalry the more you give + To history, and one misdeed the less. + +ELECTOR. Concerning that I'd have to ask the Prince, + Who was not idly made a prisoner, + As you may know, nor idly may be freed.-- + I'll see the gentlemen when they arrive. + +MARSHAL (_to himself_). + Curse it! His armor's proof to every dart. + + + +SCENE IV + +_Two lackeys enter, one with a letter in his hand. The others as before_. + +1st LACKEY. Sir, Colonels Kottwitz, Hennings, Truchsz and others + Beg audience! + +ELECTOR (_to the second lackey, as he takes the letter_). + This from the Prince of Homburg? + +2D LACKEY. Indeed, your Highness. + +ELECTOR. Who delivered it? + +2D LACKEY. The Swiss on guard before the castle gate, + Who had it from the Prince's bodyguard. + +[_The_ ELECTOR _stands by the table, and reads; whereupon he turns and +calls to a page_.] + + Prittwitz! Bring me the warrant, bring it here. + And let me have the passport for the Swede's + Ambassador, Gustaf, the Count of Horn. + + [_Exit the page_.] + + [_To the first lackey_.] + Now Kottwitz and his retinue may come. + + + +SCENE V + +COLONEL KOTTWITZ _and_ COLONEL HENNINGS, COUNT TRUCHSZ, COUNTS +HOHENZOLLERN _and_ SPARREN, COUNT REUSS, CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ, STRANZ +_and other officers enter. The others as before_. + +KOTTWITZ (_bearing the petition_). + Permit me, my exalted sovereign, + Here in the name of all your soldiery + Most humbly to submit this document. + +ELECTOR. Kottwitz, before I take it, tell me now + Who was it called you to this city here? + +KOTTWITZ (_regarding him_). + With the dragoons? + +ELECTOR. Ay, with your regiment! + I nominated Arnstein as your station. + +KOTTWITZ. Sir! It was your behest that brought me + hither. + +ELECTOR. Eh? Let me see the order! + +KOTTWITZ. Here, my liege. + +ELECTOR (_reading_). + Signed: "Natalie." And dated: "Fehrbellin, + By order of my liege, my uncle Frederick." + +KOTTWITZ. By God, my prince and lord, I will not hope + The order's news to you? + +ELECTOR. No--understand--Who + was it who conveyed the order thither? + +KOTTWITZ. Count Reuss! + +ELECTOR (_after a momentary pause_). + What's more, you're welcome, very welcome! + You have been chosen with your squadrons twelve + To pay Prince Homburg, sentenced by the law, + The final honors of the morrow. + +KOTTWITZ (_taken aback_). What, My sovereign? + +ELECTOR (_handing back the order_). + The regiment stands yet, + Benighted and befogged, outside the Castle? + +KOTTWITZ. Pardon, the night-- + +ELECTOR. Why don't they go to quarters? + +KOTTWITZ. My sovereign, they have gone. As you directed + They have found quarters in the city here. + +ELECTOR (_with a turn toward the window_). + What? But a moment since--Well, by the gods! + You've found them stables speedily enough. + So much the better! Welcome, then, once more! + Come, say, what brings you here? What is your news? + +KOTTWITZ. Sir, this petition from your loyal men. + +ELECTOR. Come. + +KOTTWITZ. But the words your lips have spoken strike + All my anticipations down to earth. + +ELECTOR. Well, then, a word can lift them up again! + [_He reads_.] + "Petition, begging royal clemency + For our commandant, vitally accused, + The General, Prince Frederick Hessen-Homburg." + + [_To the officers._] + + A noble name, my lords! And not unworthy + Your coming in such numbers to its aid. + + [_He looks into the document again._] + + By whom is the petition? + +KOTTWITZ. By myself. + +ELECTOR. The Prince has been apprized of what it holds? + +KOTTWITZ. Not in the very faintest. In our midst + The matter was conceived and given birth. + +ELECTOR. Grant me a moment's patience, if you please. + +[_He steps to the table and glances over the paper. Long pause._] + + Hm! Curious! You ancient war-horse, you, + You plead the Prince's cause? You justify + His charging Wrangel ere I gave command? + +KOTTWITZ. My sovereign, yes. That's what old Kottwitz does. + +ELECTOR. You did not hold that notion on the field! + +KOTTWITZ. I'd weighed the thing but ill, my sovereign. + I should have calmly yielded to the Prince + Who is most wonderfully versed in war. + The Swedes' left wing was wavering; on their right + Came reinforcements; had he been content + To bide your order, they'd have made a stand + With new intrenchments in the gullies there, + And never had you gained your victory. + +ELECTOR. That's what it pleases you to presuppose! + I sent out Colonel Hennings, as you know, + To pounce upon and seize the knot of bridges + Held by the Swedes to cover Wrangel's rear. + If you'd not disobeyed my order, look, + Hennings had carried out the stroke as planned-- + In two hours' time had set afire the bridges, + Planted his forces firmly on the Rhyn, + And Wrangel had been crushed with stump and stem + In ditches and morasses, utterly. + +KOTTWITZ. It is the tyro's business, not yours, + To hunger after fate's supremest crown. + Until this hour you took what gift she gave. + The dragon that made desolate the Mark + Beneath your very nose has been repelled + With gory head! What could one day bring more? + What matters it if, for a fortnight yet, + Spent in the sand, he lies and salves his wounds? + We've learnt the art of conquering him, and now + Are full of zeal to make the most of it. + Give us a chance at Wrangel, like strong men, + Breast against breast once more; we'll make an end + And, down into the Baltic, down he goes! + They did not build Rome in a single day. + +ELECTOR. What right have you, you fool, to hope for that, + When every mother's son is privileged + To jerk the battle-chariot's reins I hold? + Think you that fortune will eternally + Award a crown to disobedience? + I do not like a bastard victory, + The gutter-waif of chance; the law, look you, + My crown's progenitor, I will uphold, + For she shall bear a race of victories. + +KOTTWITZ. My liege, the law, the highest and the best, + That shall be honored in your leaders' hearts-- + Look, that is not the letter of your will! + It is the fatherland, it is the crown, + It is yourself, upon whose head it sits. + I beg you now, what matters it to you + What rule the foe fights by, as long as he + With all his pennons bites the dust once more? + The law that drubs him is the highest law! + Would you transform your fervid soldiery + Into a tool, as lifeless as the blade + That in your golden baldrick hangs inert? + Oh, empty spirit, stranger to the stars, + Who first gave forth such doctrine! Oh, the base, + The purblind statecraft, which because of one + Instance wherein the heart rode on to wrack, + Forgets ten others, in the whirl of life, + Wherein the heart alone has power to save! + Come, in the battle do I spill in dust + My blood for wages, money, say, or fame? + Faith, not a bit! It's all too good for that! + Why! I've my satisfaction and my joy, + Free and apart, in quiet solitude, + Seeing your splendor and your excellence, + The fame and crescence of your mighty name! + That is the wage for which I sold my heart! + Grant that, because of this unplanned success; + You broke the staff across the Prince's head, + And I somewhere twixt hill and dale at dawn + Should, shepherd-wise, steal on a victory + Unplanned as this, with my good squadrons, eh?-- + By God, I were a very knave, did I + Not merrily repeat the Prince's act! + And if you spake, the law book in your hand: + "Kottwitz, you've forfeited your head!" I'd say: + I knew it, Sir; there, take it, there it is; + When with an oath I bound me, hide and hair, + Unto your crown, I left not out my head, + And I should give you nought but what was yours! + +ELECTOR. You whimsical old gentleman, with you + I get nowhere! You bribe me with your tongue-- + Me, with your craftily framed sophistries-- + Me--and you know I hold you dear! Wherefore + I call an advocate to bear my side + And end our controversy. + + [_He rings a bell. A footman enters._] + + Go! I wish + The Prince of Homburg hither brought from prison. + + [_Exit footman._] + + He will instruct you, be assured of that, + What discipline and what obedience be! + He sent me words, at least, of other pitch + Than this astute idea of liberty + You have rehearsed here like a boy to me. + + [_He stands by the table again reading._] + +KOTTWITZ (_amazed_). + Fetch whom? Call whom? + +HENNINGS. Himself? + +TRUCHSZ. Impossible! + +[_The officers group themselves, disquieted, and speak with one +another._] + +ELECTOR. Who has brought forth this other document? + +HOHENZOLL. I, my liege lord! + +ELECTOR (_reading_). + "Proof that Elector Frederick + The Prince's act himself--"--Well, now, by heaven, + I call that nerve! + What! You dare say the cause of the misdeed + The Prince committed in the fight, am I! + +HOHENZOLL. Yourself, my liege; I say it, Hohenzollern. + +ELECTOR. Now then, by God, that beats the fairy-tales! + One man asserts that _he_ is innocent, + The other that the guilty man am _I_!-- + How will you demonstrate that thesis now? + +HOHENZOLL. My lord, you will recall to mind that night + We found the Prince in slumber deeply sunk + Down in the garden 'neath the plantain trees. + He dreamed, it seemed, of victories on the morrow, + And in his hand he held a laurel-twig, + As if to test his heart's sincerity. + You took the wreath away, and smilingly + Twined round the leaves the necklace that you wore, + And to the lady, to your noble niece, + Both wreath and necklace, intertwining, gave. + At such a wondrous sight, the Prince, aflush, + Leaps to his feet; such precious things held forth + By such a precious hand he needs must clasp. + But you withdraw from him in haste, withdrawing + The Princess as you pass; the door receives you. + Lady and chain and laurel disappear, + And, solitary, holding in his hand + A glove he ravished from he knows not whom-- + Lapped in the midnight he remains behind. + +ELECTOR. What glove was that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. My sovereign, hear me through! + The matter was a jest; and yet, of what + Deep consequence to him I learned erelong. + For when I slip the garden's postern through, + Coming upon him as it were by chance, + And wake him, and he calls his senses home, + The memory flooded him with keen delight. + A sight more touching scarce the mind could paint. + The whole occurrence, to the least detail, + He recapitulated, like a dream; + So vividly, he thought, he ne'er had dreamed, + And in his heart the firm assurance grew + That heaven had granted him a sign; that when + Once more came battle, God would grant him all + His inward eye had seen, the laurel-wreath, + The lady fair, and honor's linked badge. + +ELECTOR. Hm! Curious! And then the glove? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Indeed! + This fragment of his dream, made manifest, + At once dispels and makes more firm his faith. + At first, with large, round eye he looks at it: + The color's white, in mode and shape it seems + A lady's glove, but, as he spoke with none + By night within the garden whom, by chance, + He might have robbed of it--confused thereto + In his reflections by myself, who calls him + Up to the council in the palace, he + Forgets the thing he cannot comprehend, + And off-hand in his collar thrusts the glove. + +ELECTOR. Thereupon? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Thereupon with pen and tablet + He seeks the Castle, with devout attention + To take the orders from the Marshal's lips. + The Electress and the Princess, journey-bound, + By chance are likewise in the hall; but who + Shall gauge the uttermost bewilderment + That takes him, when the Princess turns to find + The very glove he thrust into his collar! + The Marshal calls again and yet again + 'The Prince of Homburg!' 'Marshal, to command!' + He cries, endeavoring to collect his thoughts; + But he, ringed round by marvels--why, the thunders + Of heaven might have fallen in our midst-- + + [_He pauses._] + +ELECTOR. It was the Princess' glove? + +HOHENZOLLERN. It was, indeed! + + [_The_ ELECTOR _sinks into a brown study._] + + A stone is he; the pencil's in his hand, + And he stands there, and seems a living man; + But consciousness, as by a magic wand, + Is quenched within him; not until the morrow, + As down the lines the loud artillery + Already roars, does he return to life, + Asking me: Say, what was it Dörfling said + Last night in council, that applied to me? + +MARSHAL. Truly, my liege, that tale I can indorse. + The Prince, I call to mind, took in no word + Of what I said; distraught I've seen him oft, + But never yet in such degree removed + From blood and bone, never, as on that night. + +ELECTOR. Now then, if I make out your reasoning, + You pile your climax on my shoulders thus: + Had I not dangerously made a jest + Of this young dreamer's state, he had remained + Guiltless, in council had not roamed the clouds, + Nor disobedient proved upon the field. + Eh? Eh? Is that the logic? + +HOHENZOLLERN. My liege lord, + I trust the filling of the gaps to you. + +ELECTOR. Fool that you are, you addlepate! Had you + Not called me to the garden, I had not, + Following a whim of curiosity, + Made harmless fun of this somnambulist. + Wherefore, and quite with equal right, I hold + The cause of his delinquency were you!-- + The delphic wisdom of my officers! + +HOHENZOLL. Enough, my sovereign! I am assured, + My words fell weightily upon your heart. + + + +SCENE VI + +_An officer enters. The others as before._ + + +OFFICER. My lord, the Prince will instantly appear. + +ELECTOR. Good, then! Let him come in. + +OFFICER. Two minutes, sir! + He but delayed a moment on the way + To beg a porter ope the graveyard gate. + +ELECTOR. The graveyard? + +OFFICER. Ay, my sovereign. + +ELECTOR. But why? + +OFFICER. To tell the truth, my lord, I do not know. + It seemed he wished to see the burial-vault + That your behest uncovered for him there. + + [_The commanders group themselves and talk together._] + +ELECTOR. No matter! When he comes, let him come in! + +[_He steps to the table again and glances at the papers._] + +TRUCHSZ. The watch is bringing in Prince Homburg now. + + + +SCENE VII + +_Enter the_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. _An officer and the watch. The others + as before._ + +ELECTOR. Young Prince of mine, I call you to my aid! + Here's Colonel Kottwitz brings this document + In your behalf, look, in long column signed + By hundred honorable gentlemen. + The army asks your liberty, it runs, + And will not tolerate the court's decree. + Come, read it and inform yourself, I beg. + + [_He hands him the paper._] + +THE PRINCE (_casts a glance at the document, turns and + looks about the circle of officers_). + Kottwitz, old friend, come, let me clasp your hand! + You give me more than on the day of battle + I merited of you. But now, post-haste, + Go, back again to Arnstein whence you came, + Nor budge at all. I have considered it; + The death decreed to me I will accept! + + [_He hands over the paper to him._] + +KOTTWITZ (_distressed_). + No, nevermore, my Prince! What are you saying? + +HOHENZOLL. He wants to die-- + +TRUCHSZ. He shall not, must not die! + +VARIOUS OFFICERS (_pressing forward_). + My lord Elector! Oh, my sovereign! Hear us! + +THE PRINCE. Hush! It is my inflexible desire! + Before the eyes of all the soldiery + I wronged the holy code of war; and now + By my free death I wish to glorify it. + My brothers, what's the one poor victory + I yet may snatch from Wrangel worth to you + Against the triumph o'er the balefullest + Of foes within, that I achieve at dawn-- + The insolent and disobedient heart. + Now shall the alien, seeking to bow down + Our shoulders 'neath his yoke, be crushed; and, free, + The man of Brandenburg shall take his stand + Upon the mother soil, for it is his-- + The splendor of her meads alone for him! + +KOTTWITZ (_moved_). + My son! My dearest friend! What shall I name you? + +TRUCHSZ. God of the world! + +KOTTWITZ. Oh, let me kiss your hand! + + [_They press round him._] + +THE PRINCE (_turning toward the_ ELECTOR). + But you, my liege, who bore in other days + A tenderer name I may no longer speak, + Before your feet, stirred to my soul, I kneel. + Forgive, that with a zeal too swift of foot + I served your cause on that decisive day; + Death now shall wash me clean of all my guilt. + But give my heart, that bows to your decree, + Serene and reconciled, this comfort yet: + To know your breast resigns all bitterness-- + And, in the hour of parting, as a proof, + One favor more, compassionately grant. + +ELECTOR. Young hero, speak! What is it you desire? + I pledge my word to you, my knightly honor, + It shall be granted you, whate'er it be! + +THE PRINCE. Not with your niece's hand, my sovereign, + Purchase the peace of Gustaf Karl! Expel, + Out of the camp, expel the bargainer + Who made this ignominious overture. + Write your response to him in cannon-shots! + +ELECTOR (_kissing his brow_). + As you desire then. With this kiss, my son, + That last appeal I grant. Indeed, wherein + Now have we need of such a sacrifice + That war's ill-fortune only could compel? + Why, in each word that you have spoken, buds + A victory that strikes the foeman low! + I'll write to him, the plighted bride is she + Of Homburg, dead because of Fehrbellin; + With his pale ghost, before our flags a-charge, + Let him do battle for her, on the field! + +[_He kisses him again and draws him to his feet._] + +THE PRINCE. Behold, now have you given me life indeed! + Now every blessing on you I implore + That from their cloudy thrones the seraphim + Pour forth exultant over hero-heads. + Go, and make war, and conquer, oh, my liege, + The world that fronts you--for you merit it! + +ELECTOR. Guards! Lead the prisoner back to his cell! + + + +SCENE VIII + +NATALIE _and the_ ELECTRESS _appear in the doorway, followed by +ladies-in-waiting. The others as before._ + +NATALIE. Mother! Decorum! Can you speak that word? + In such an hour there's none but just to love him-- + My dear, unhappy love! + +THE PRINCE (_turning_). Now I shall go! + +TRUCHSZ (_holding him_). + No, nevermore, my Prince! + + [_Several officers step in his way._] + +THE PRINCE. Take me away! + +HOHENZOLL. Liege, can your heart-- + +THE PRINCE (_tearing himself free_). + You tyrants, would you drag me + In fetters to my execution-place? + Go! I have closed my reckoning with this world. + + [_He goes out under guard._] + +NATALIE (_on the_ ELECTRESS' _breast_). + Open, O earth, receive me in your deeps. + Why should I look upon the sunlight more? + + + +SCENE IX + +_The persons, as in the preceding scene, with the exception of the_ +PRINCE OF HOMBURG. + +MARSHAL. God of earth! Did it have to come to that? + + [_The_ ELECTOR _speaks in a low voice to an officer._] + + +KOTTWITZ (_frigidly_). + My sovereign, after all that has occurred + Are we dismissed? + +ELECTOR. Not for the present, no! + I'll give you notice when you are dismissed! + +[_He regards him a moment straightly and steadily; then takes the +papers which the page has brought him from the table and turns to the_ +FIELD-MARSHAL.] + + This passport, take it, for Count Horn the Swede. + Tell him it is my cousin's wish, the Prince's, + Which I have pledged myself to carry out. + The war begins again in three days' time! + + [_Pause. He casts a glance at the death warrant._] + + Judge for yourselves, my lords. The Prince of Homburg + Through disobedience and recklessness + Of two of my best victories this year + Deprived me, and indeed impaired the third. + Now that he's had his schooling these last days + Come, will you risk it with him for a fourth? + +KOTTWITZ _and_ TRUCHSZ (_helter-skelter_). + What, my adored--my worshipped--What, my liege?-- + +ELECTOR. Will you? Will you? + +KOTTWITZ. Now, by the living God, + He'd watch you standing on destruction's brink + And never twitch his sword in your behalf, + Or rescue you unless you gave command. + +ELECTOR (_tearing up the death warrant_). + So, to the garden! Follow me, my friends! + + + +SCENE X + +_The Castle with the terrace leading down into the garden, as in ACT I. +It is night, as then.--The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG, _with bandaged eyes, +is led in through the lower garden-wicket, by_ CAPTAIN STRANZ. _Officers +with the guard. In the distance one can hear the drumming of the +death-march._ + +[Illustration: #STATUE OF THE GREAT ELECTOR# Sculptor, Andreas Schlüter] + +THE PRINCE. All art thou mine now, immortality! + Thou glistenest through the veil that blinds mine eyes + With that sun's glow that is a thousand suns. + I feel bright pinions from my shoulders start; + Through mute, ethereal spaces wings my soul; + And as the ship, borne outward by the wind, + Sees the bright harbor sink below the marge, + Thus all my being fades and is submerged. + Now I distinguish colors yet and forms, + And now--all life is fog beneath my feet. + +[_The_ PRINCE _seats himself on the bench which stands about the oak +in the middle of the open space. The_ CAPTAIN _draws away from him and +looks up toward the terrace._] + + How sweet the flowers fill the air with odor! + D'you smell them? + +STRANZ (_returning to him_). They are gillyflowers and pinks. + +THE PRINCE. How come the gillyflowers here? + +STRANZ. I know not. + It must have been some girl that planted them. + Come, will you have a bachelor's button? + +THE PRINCE. Thanks! + When I get home I'll have it put in water. + + + +SCENE XI + +_The_ ELECTOR _with the laurel-wreath, about which the golden chain is +twined, the_ ELECTRESS, PRINCESS NATALIE, FIELD-MARSHAL DÖRFLING, +COLONEL KOTTWITZ, HOHENZOLLERN, GOLZ, _and others. Ladies-in-waiting, +officers and boys bearing torches appear on the castle terrace_. +HOHENZOLLERN _steps to the balustrade and with a handkerchief signals +to_ CAPTAIN STRANZ, _whereupon the latter leaves the_ PRINCE OF +HOMBURG _and speaks a few words with the guards in the background_. + +THE PRINCE. What is the brightness breaking round me, say! + +STRANZ (_returning to him_). + My Prince, will you be good enough to rise? + +THE PRINCE. What's coming? + +STRANZ. Nothing that need wake your fear. + I only wish to free your eyes again. + +THE PRINCE. Has my ordeal's final hour struck? + +STRANZ (_as he draws the bandage from the_ PRINCE's _eyes_). + Indeed! Be blest, for well you merit it! + +[_The_ ELECTOR _gives the wreath, from which the chain is hanging, to +the_ PRINCESS, _takes her hand and leads her down from the terrace. +Ladies and gentlemen follow. Surrounded by torches, the_ PRINCESS +_approaches the_ PRINCE, _who looks up in amazement; sets the wreath +on his head, the chain about his neck and presses his hand to her +breast. The_ PRINCE _tumbles in a faint_.] + +NATALIE. Heaven! The joy has killed him! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_raising him_). Help, bring help! + +ELECTOR. Let him be wakened by the cannons' thunder! + + [_Artillery fire. A march. The Castle is illuminated._] + +KOTTWITZ. Hail, hail, the Prince of Homburg! + +OFFICERS. Hail, hail, hail! + +ALL. The victor of the field of Fehrbellin! + + [_Momentary silence._] + +THE PRINCE. No! Say! Is it a dream? + +KOTTWITZ. A dream, what else? + +SEVERAL OFFICERS. To arms! to arms! + +TRUCHSZ. To war! + +DÖRFLING. To victory! + +ALL. In dust with all the foes of Brandenburg! + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 2: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 3: Ten o'clock.] + +[Footnote 4: Of Jupiter Tonans.] + +[Footnote 5: The body in the Pantheon, the head in Saint Luke's +church.] + +[Footnote 6: Strassburg.] + +[Footnote 7: The hall of the Pantheon seems too low, because a part of +its steps is hidden by the rubbish.] + +[Footnote 8: This opening in the roof is twenty-seven feet in +diameter.] + +[Footnote 9: The Pole-star, as well as other northern constellations, +stands lower in the south.] + +[Footnote 10: The German texts read: _Reben_, vines. But the +conjecture _Raben_ as the correct reading may be permitted.--ED.] + +[Footnote 11: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 12: This appropriate expression was, if we mistake not, +first used by M. Adam Müller in his _Lectures on German Science and +Literature_. If, however, he gives himself out as the inventor of the +thing itself, he is, to use the softest word, in error. Long before +him other Germans had endeavored to reconcile the contrarieties of +taste of different ages and nations, and to pay due homage to all +genuine poetry and art. Between good and bad, it is true, no +reconciliation is possible.] + +[Footnote 13: This difficulty extends also to France; for it must not +be supposed that a literal translation can ever be a faithful one. +Mrs. Montague has done enough to prove how wretchedly even Voltaire, +in his rhymeless Alexandrines, has translated a few passages from +_Hamlet_ and the first act of _Julius Cæsar_.] + +[Footnote 14: It begins with the words: _A mind reflecting ages past_, +and is subscribed I.M.S.] + +[Footnote 15: Lessing was the first to speak of Shakespeare in a +becoming tone; but he said, unfortunately, a great deal too little of +him, as in the time when he wrote the _Dramaturgie_ this poet had not +yet appeared on our stage. Since that time he has been more +particularly noticed by Herder in the _Blätter von deutscher Art und +Kunst_; Goethe, in _Wilhelm Meister_; and Tieck, in "Letters on +Shakespeare" (_Poetisches Journal_, 1800), which break off, however, +almost at the commencement.] + +[Footnote 16: The English work with which foreigners of every country +are perhaps best acquainted is Hume's _History_; and there we have a +most unjustifiable account both of Shakespeare and his age. "Born in a +_rude age_, and educated in the lowest manner, without any instruction +either _from the world_ or from books." How could a man of Hume's +acuteness suppose for a moment that a poet, whose characters display +such an intimate acquaintance with life, who, as an actor and manager +of a theatre, must have come in contact with all descriptions of +individuals, had no instruction from the world? But this is not the +worst; he goes even so far as to say, "a reasonable propriety of +thought he cannot for any time uphold." This is nearly as offensive as +Voltaire's "drunken savage."--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 17: In my lectures on _The Spirit of the Age_.] + +[Footnote 18: In one of his sonnets he says: + + O, for my sake do you with fortune chide + The guilty goddess of my harmless deeds, + That did not better for my life provide + _Than public means which public manners breeds_. + +And in the following: + + Your love and pity doth the impression fill, + which _vulgar scandal_ stamp'd upon my brow.] + +[Footnote 19: + + And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, + That so did take Eliza and our James!] + +[Footnote 20: This is perhaps not uncommon still in some countries. +The Venetian Director Medebach, for whose company many of Goldoni's +Comedies were composed, claimed an exclusive right to them.--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 21: _Twelfth Night, or What You Will_--Act iii., scene 2.] + +[Footnote 22: _As You Like It_.] + +[Footnote 23: In one of the commendatory poems in the first folio +edition: + + And on the stage at _half sword parley_ were + Brutus and Cassius.] + +[Footnote 24: In the first volume of _Charakteristiken und Kritiken_, +published by my brother and myself.] + +[Footnote 25: A contemporary of the poet, the author of the +already-noticed poem, (subscribed I.M.S.), tenderly felt this when he +said: + + Yet so to temper passion that our ears + Take pleasure in their pain, and eyes in tears + Both smile and weep.] + +[Footnote 26: In Hamlet's directions to the players. Act iii., scene +2.] + +[Footnote 27: See Hamlet's praise of Yorick. In _Twelfth Night_, +Viola says: + + This fellow is wise enough to play the fool, + And to do that well craves a kind of wit; + He must observe their mood on whom he jests, + The quality of the persons, and the time; + And like the haggard, check at every feather + That comes before his eye. This is a practice + As full of labor as a wise man's art: + For folly that he wisely shows is fit, + But wise men's folly fall'n quite taints their wit.--AUTHOR. + +The passages from Shakespeare, in the original work, are given from the +author's masterly translation. We may be allowed, however, to observe that +the last line-- + + "Doch wozu ist des Weisen Thorheit nutz?" + +literally, _Of what use is the folly of the wise?_--does not convey the +exact meaning of Shakespeare.--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 28: "Since the little wit that fools have was silenced, the +little foolery that wise men have makes a greater show."--_As You Like +It_, Act I, scene 2.] + +[Footnote 29: Charles the Bold, of Burgundy, is known to have +frequently boasted that he wished to rival Hannibal as the greatest +general of all ages. After his defeat at Granson, his fool accompanied +him in his hurried flight, and exclaimed, "Ah, your Grace, they have +for once Hanniballed us!" If the Duke had given an ear to this warning +raillery, he would not so soon afterward have come to a disgraceful +end.] + +[Footnote 30: I shall take the opportunity of saying a few words +respecting this species of drama when I come to speak of Ben Jonson.] + +[Footnote 31: Here follows, in the original, a so-called "Allegory of +Impudence."--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] + +[Footnote 32: Here follows in the original a biographic sketch called +"Apprenticeship of Manhood."--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] + +[Footnote 33: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 34: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork. From _Spiritual +Songs_ (1799).] + +[Footnote 35: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork. From _Spiritual +Songs_ (1799).] + +[Footnote 36: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.] + +[Footnote 37: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth +and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV, by Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12060 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f9f0db2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12060 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12060) diff --git a/old/12060-8.txt b/old/12060-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..52ed10a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12060-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,20727 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth and +Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV, by Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke + +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.org + + +Title: The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV + Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English. In Twenty + Volumes. + + +Author: Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke + +Release Date: April 16, 2004 [EBook #12060] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN CLASSICS, IV. *** + + + + +Produced by Stan Goodman, Jayam Subramanian and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + + + +#THE GERMAN CLASSICS# + + + + +Masterpieces of German Literature + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH + + + + +IN TWENTY VOLUMES + + + + +ILLUSTRATED + +1914 + + + +VOLUME IV + + * * * * * + + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME IV + + +JEAN PAUL + + The Life of Jean Paul. By Benjamin W. Wells. + + Quintus Fixlein's Wedding. Translated by Thomas Carlyle. + + Rome. Translated by C. T. Brooks. + + The Opening of the Will. Translated by Frances H. King. + +WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT + + Schiller and the Process of His Intellectual Development. Translated + by Frances H. King. + + The Early Romantic School. By James Taft Hatfield. + +AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL + + Lectures on Dramatic Art. Translated by John Black. + +FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + + Introduction to Lucinda. By Calvin Thomas. + + Lucinda. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + Aphorisms. Translated by Louis H. Gray. + +NOVALIS (FRIEDRICH VON HARDENBERG) + + The Story of Hyacinth and Roseblossom. Translated by Lillie Winter. + + Aphorisms. Translated by Frederic H. Hedge. + + Hymn to Night. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + Though None Thy Name Should Cherish. Translated by Charles Wharton + Stork. + + To the Virgin. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + +FRIEDRICH HÖLDERLIN + + Hyperion's Song of Fate. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + + Evening Phantasie. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + +LUDWIG TIECK + + Puss in Boots. Translated by Lillie Winter. + + Fair Eckbert. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + The Elves. Translated by Frederic H. Hedge. + +HEINRICH VON KLEIST + + The Life of Heinrich von Kleist. By John S. Nollen. + + Michael Kohlhaas. Translated by Frances H. King. + + The Prince of Homburg. Translated by Hermann Hagedorn. + + +ILLUSTRATIONS--VOLUME IV + + Lonely Ride. By Hans Thoma. + + Jean Paul. By E. Hader. + + Bridal Procession. By Ludwig Richter. + + Wilhelm von Humboldt. By Franz Krüger. + + The University of Berlin. + + A Hermit watering Horses. By Moritz von Schwind. + + A Wanderer looks into a Landscape. By Moritz von Schwind. + + The Chapel in the Forest. By Moritz von Schwind. + + August Wilhelm Schlegel. + + Caroline Schlegel. + + Friedrich Schlegel. By E. Hader. + + The Creation. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Novalis. By Eduard Eichens. + + The Queen of Night. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Friedrich Hölderlin. By E. Hader. + + Ludwig Tieck. By Vogel von Vogelstein. + + Puss in Boots. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Dance of the Elves. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Heinrich von Kleist. + + Sarcophagus of Queen Louise in the Mausoleum at Charlottenburg. By + Christian Rauch. + + The Royal Castle at Berlin. + + Statue of the Great Elector. By Andreas Schlüter. + + + + +EDITOR'S NOTE + +From this volume on, an attempt will be made to bring out, in the +illustrations, certain broad tendencies of German painting in the +nineteenth century, parallel to the literary development here +represented. There will be few direct illustrations of the subject +matter of the text. Instead, each volume will be dominated, as far as +possible, by a master, or a group of masters, whose works offer an +artistic analogy to the character and spirit of the works of literature +contained in it. Volumes IV and V, for instance, being devoted to German +Romantic literature of the early nineteenth century, will present at the +same time selections from the work of two of the foremost Romantic +painters of Germany: Moritz von Schwind and Ludwig Richter. It is hoped +that in this way THE GERMAN CLASSICS OF THE NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH +CENTURIES will shed a not unwelcome side-light upon the development of +modern German art. + +KUNO FRANCKE. + + + + +JEAN PAUL + + * * * * * + +THE LIFE OF JEAN PAUL + +By BENJAMIN W. WELLS, Ph.D. + +Author of _Modern German Literature_. + +"The Spring and I came into the world together," Jean Paul liked to +tell his friends when in later days of comfort and fame he looked back +on his early years. He was, in fact, born on the first day (March 21) +and at almost the first hour of the Spring of 1763 at Wunsiedel in the +Fichtelgebirge, the very heart of Germany. The boy was christened +Johann Paul Friedrich Richter. His parents called him Fritz. It was +not till 1793 that, with a thought of Jean Jacques Rousseau, he called +himself Jean Paul. + +Place and time are alike significant in his birth. Wunsiedel was a +typical German hill village; the ancestry, as far back as we can trace +it, was typically German, as untouched as Wunsiedel itself, by any +breath of cosmopolitan life. It meant much that the child who was in +later life to interpret most intimately the spirit of the German +people through the days of the French Revolution, of the Napoleonic +tyranny and of the War of Liberation, who was to be a bond between the +old literature and the new, beside, yet independent of, the men of +Weimar, should have such heredity and such environment. Richter's +grandfather had held worthily minor offices in the church, his father +had followed in his churchly steps with especial leaning to music; his +maternal grandfather was a well-to-do clothmaker in the near-by town +of Hof, his mother a long-suffering housewife. It was well that Fritz +brought sunshine with him into the world; for his temperament was his +sole patrimony and for many years his chief dependence. He was the +eldest of seven children. None, save he, passed unscathed through the +privations and trials of the growing household with its accumulating +burdens of debt. For Fritz these trials meant but the tempering of his +wit, the mellowing of his humor, the deepening of his sympathies. + +When Fritz was two years old the family moved to Joditz, another +village of the Fichtelgebirge. Of his boyhood here Jean Paul in his +last years set down some mellowed recollections. He tells how his +father, still in his dressing gown, used to take him and his brother +Adam across the Saale to dig potatoes and gather nuts, alternating in +the labor and the play; how his thrifty mother would send him with the +provision bag to her own mother's at Hof, who would give him goodies +that he would share with some little friend. He tells, too, of his +rapture at his first A B C book and its gilded cover, and of his +eagerness at school, until his too-anxious father took him from +contact with the rough peasant boys and tried to educate him himself, +an experience not without value, at least as a warning, to the future +author of _Levana_. But if the Richters were proud, they were very +poor. The boys used to count it a privilege to carry the father's +coffee-cup to him of a Sunday morning, as he sat by the window +meditating his sermon, for then they could carry it back again "and +pick the unmelted remains of sugar-candy from the bottom of it." +Simple pleasures surely, but, as Carlyle says, "there was a bold, +deep, joyful spirit looking through those young eyes, and to such a +spirit the world has nothing poor, but all is rich and full of +loveliness and wonder." + +Every book that the boy Fritz could anywise come at was, he tells us, +"a fresh green spring-place," where "rootlets, thirsty for knowledge +pressed and twisted in every direction to seize and absorb." Very +characteristic of the later Jean Paul is one incident of his childhood +which, he says, made him doubt whether he had not been born rather for +philosophy than for imaginative writing. He was witness to the birth +of his own self-consciousness. + +[Illustration: JEAN PAUL] + +"One forenoon," he writes, "I was standing, a very young child, by +the house door, looking to the left at the wood-pile, when, all at +once, like a lightning flash from heaven, the inner vision arose +before me: I am an _I_. It has remained ever since radiant. At that +moment my _I_ saw itself for the first time and forever." + +It is curious to contrast this childhood, in the almost cloistered +seclusion of the Fichtelgebirge, with Goethe's at cosmopolitan +Frankfurt or even with Schiller's at Marbach. Much that came unsought, +even to Schiller, Richter had a struggle to come by; much he could +never get at all. The place of "Frau Aja" in the development of the +child Goethe's fancy was taken at Joditz by the cow-girl. Eagerness to +learn Fritz showed in pathetic fulness, but the most diligent search +has revealed no trace in these years of that creative imagination with +which he was so richly dowered. + +When Fritz was thirteen his father received a long-hoped-for promotion +to Schwarzenbach, a market town near Hof, then counting some 1,500 +inhabitants. The boy's horizon was thus widened, though the family +fortunes were far from finding the expected relief. Here Fritz first +participated in the Communion and has left a remarkable record of his +emotional experience at "becoming a citizen in the city of God." About +the same time, as was to be expected, came the boy's earliest strong +emotional attachment. Katharina Bärin's first kiss was, for him, "a +unique pearl of a minute, such as never had been and never was to be." +But, as with the Communion, though the memory remained, the feeling +soon passed away. + +The father designed Fritz, evidently the most gifted of his sons, for +the church, and after some desultory attempts at instruction in +Schwarzenbach, sent him in 1779 to the high school at Hof. His +entrance examination was brilliant, a last consolation to the father, +who died, worn out with the anxieties of accumulating debt, a few +weeks later. From his fellow pupils the country lad suffered much till +his courage and endurance had compelled respect. His teachers were +conscientious but not competent. In the liberally minded Pastor Vogel +of near-by Rehau, however, he found a kindred spirit and a helpful +friend. In this clergyman's generously opened library the thirsty +student made his first acquaintance with the unorthodox thought of his +time, with Lessing and Lavater, Goethe and even Helvetius. When in +1781 he left Hof for the University of Leipzig the pastor took leave +of the youth with the prophetic words: "You will some time be able to +render me a greater service than I have rendered you. Remember this +prophecy." + +Under such stimulating encouragement Richter began to write. Some +little essays, two addresses, and a novel, a happy chance has +preserved. The novel is an echo of Goethe's _Werther_, the essays are +marked by a clear, straightforward style, an absence of sentimentality +or mysticism, and an eagerness for reform that shows the influence of +Lessing. Religion is the dominant interest, but the youth is no longer +orthodox, indeed he is only conditionally Christian. + +With such literary baggage, fortified with personal recommendations +and introductions from the Head Master at Hof, with a Certificate of +Maturity and a _testimonium paupertatis_ that might entitle him to +remission of fees and possibly free board, Richter went to Leipzig. +From the academic environment and its opportunities he got much, from +formal instruction little. He continued to be in the main self-taught +and extended his independence in manners and dress perhaps a little +beyond the verge of eccentricity. Meantime matters at home were going +rapidly from bad to worse. His grandfather had died; the inheritance +had been largely consumed in a law-suit. He could not look to his +mother for help and did not look to her for counsel. He suffered from +cold and stretched his credit for rent and food to the breaking point. +But the emptier his stomach the more his head abounded in plans "for +writing books to earn money to buy books." He devised a system of +spelling reform and could submit to his pastor friend at Rehau in 1782 +a little sheaf of essays on various aspects of Folly, the student +being now of an age when, like Iago, he was "nothing if not critical." +Later these papers seemed to him little better than school exercises, +but they gave a promise soon to be redeemed in _Greenland Law-Suits_, +his first volume to find a publisher. These satirical sketches, +printed early in 1783, were followed later in that year by another +series, but both had to wait 38 years for a second edition, much +mellowed in revision--not altogether to its profit. + +The point of the _Law-Suits_ is directed especially against +theologians and the nobility. Richter's uncompromising fierceness +suggests youthful hunger almost as much as study of Swift. But +Lessing, had he lived to read their stinging epigrams, would have +recognized in Richter the promise of a successor not unworthy to carry +the biting acid of the _Disowning Letter_ over to the hand of Heine. + +The _Law-Suits_ proved too bitter for the public taste and it was +seven years before their author found another publisher. Meanwhile +Richter was leading a precarious existence, writing for magazines at +starvation prices, and persevering in an indefatigable search for some +one to undertake his next book, _Selections from the Papers of the +Devil_. A love affair with the daughter of a minor official which she, +at least, took seriously, interrupted his studies at Leipzig even +before the insistence of creditors compelled him to a clandestine +flight. This was in 1784. Then he shared for a time his mother's +poverty at Hof and from 1786 to 1789 was tutor in the house of +Oerthel, a parvenu Commercial-Counsellor in Töpen. This experience he +was to turn to good account in _Levana_ and in his first novel, _The +Invisible Lodge_, in which the unsympathetic figure of Röper is +undoubtedly meant to present the not very gracious personality of the +Kommerzienrat. + +To this period belongs a collection of _Aphorisms_ whose bright wit +reveals deep reflection. They show a maturing mind, keen insight, +livelier and wider sympathies. The _Devil's Papers_, published in +1789, when Richter, after a few months at Hof, was about to become +tutor to the children of three friendly families in Schwarzenbach, +confirm the impression of progress. In his new field Richter had great +freedom to develop his ideas of education as distinct from +inculcation. Rousseau was in the main his guide, and his success in +stimulating childish initiative through varied and ingenious +pedagogical experiments seems to have been really remarkable. + +Quite as remarkable and much more disquieting were the ideas about +friendship and love which Richter now began to develop under the +stimulating influence of a group of young ladies at Hof. In a note +book of this time he writes: "Prize question for the Erotic Academy: +How far may friendship toward women go and what is the difference +between it and love?" That Richter called this circle his "erotic +academy" is significant. He was ever, in such relations, as alert to +observe as he was keen to sympathize and permitted himself an +astonishing variety of quickly changing and even simultaneous +experiments, both at Hof and later in the aristocratic circles that +were presently to open to him. In his theory, which finds fullest +expression in _Hesperus_, love was to be wholly platonic. If the first +kiss did not end it, the second surely would. "I do not seek," he +says, "the fairest face but the fairest heart. I can overlook all +spots on that, but none on this." "He does not love who _sees_ his +beloved, but he who _thinks_ her." That is the theory. The practice +was a little different. It shows Richter at Hof exchanging fine-spun +sentiments on God, immortality and soul-affinity with some half dozen +young women to the perturbation of their spirits, in a transcendental +atmosphere of sentiment, arousing but never fulfilling the expectation +of a formal betrothal. That Jean Paul was capable of inspiring love of +the common sort is abundantly attested by his correspondence. Perhaps +no man ever had so many women of education and social position "throw +themselves" at him; but that he was capable of returning such love in +kind does not appear from acts or letters at this time, or, save +perhaps for the first years of his married life, at any later period. + +The immediate effect of the bright hours at Hof on Richter as a writer +was wholly beneficent. _Mr. Florian Fülbel's Journey_ and _Bailiff +Josuah Freudel's Complaint Bible_ show a new geniality in the +personification of amusing foibles. And with these was a real little +masterpiece, _Life of the Contented Schoolmaster Maria Wuz_, which +alone, said the Berlin critic Moritz, might suffice to make its author +immortal. In this delicious pedagogical idyl, written in December, +1790, the humor is sound, healthy, thoroughly German and +characteristic of Richter at his best. It seems as though one of the +great Dutch painters were guiding the pen, revealing the beauty of +common things and showing the true charm of quiet domesticity. +Richter's _Contented Schoolmaster_ lacked much in grace of form, but +it revealed unguessed resources in the German language, it showed +democratic sympathies more genuine than Rousseau's, it gave the +promise of a new pedagogy and a fruitful esthetic; above all it bore +the unmistakable mint-mark of genius. + +_Wuz_ won cordial recognition from the critics. With the general +public it was for the time overshadowed by the success of a more +ambitious effort, Richter's first novel, _The Invisible Lodge_. This +fanciful tale of an idealized freemasonry is a study of the effects in +after life of a secluded education. Though written in the year of the +storming of the Tuileries it shows the prose-poet of the +Fichtelgebirge as yet untouched by the political convulsions of the +time. The _Lodge_, though involved in plot and reaching an empty +conclusion, yet appealed very strongly to the Germans of 1793 by its +descriptions of nature and its sentimentalized emotion. It was truly +of its time. Men and especially women liked then, better than they do +now, to read how "the angel who loves the earth brought the most holy +lips of the pair together in an inextinguishable kiss, and a seraph +entered into their beating hearts and gave them the flames of a +supernal love." Of greater present interest than the heartbeats of +hero or heroine are the minor characters of the story, presenting +genially the various types of humor or studies from life made in the +"erotic academy" or in the families of Richter's pupils. The despotic +spendthrift, the Margrave of Bayreuth, has also his niche, or rather +pillory, in the story. Notable, too, is the tendency, later more +marked, to contrast the inconsiderate harshness of men with the +patient humility of women. Encouraged by Moritz, who declared the book +"better than Goethe," Richter for the first time signed his work "Jean +Paul." He was well paid for it and had no further serious financial +cares. + +Before the _Lodge_ was out of press Jean Paul had begun _Hesperus, or +45 Dog-post-days_, which magnified the merits of the earlier novel but +also exaggerated its defects. Wanton eccentricity was given fuller +play, formlessness seemed cultivated as an art. Digressions interrupt +the narrative with slender excuse, or with none; there is, as with the +English Sterne, an obtrusion of the author's personality; the style +seems as wilfully crude as the mastery in word-building and +word-painting is astonishing. On the other hand there is both greater +variety and greater distinction in the characters, a more developed +fabulation and a wonderful deepening and refinement of emotional +description. _Werther_ was not yet out of fashion and lovers of his +"Sorrows" found in _Hesperus_ a book after their hearts. It +established the fame of Jean Paul for his generation. It brought women +by swarms to his feet. They were not discouraged there. It was his +platonic rule "never to sacrifice one love to another," but to +experiment with "simultaneous love," "_tutti_ love," a "general +warmth" of universal affection. Intellectually awakened women were +attracted possibly as much by Richter's knowledge of their feelings as +by the fascination of his personality. _Hesperus_ lays bare many +little wiles dear to feminine hearts, and contains some keenly +sympathetic satire on German housewifery. + +While still at work on _Hesperus_ Jean Paul returned to his mother's +house at Hof. "Richter's study and sitting-room offered about this +time," says Doering, his first biographer, "a true and beautiful +picture of his simple yet noble mind, which took in both high and low. +While his mother bustled about the housework at fire or table he sat +in a corner of the same room at a plain writing-desk with few or no +books at hand, but only one or two drawers with excerpts and +manuscripts. * * * Pigeons fluttered in and out of the chamber." + +At Hof, Jean Paul continued to teach with originality and much success +until 1796, when an invitation from Charlotte von Kalb to visit Weimar +brought him new interests and connections. Meanwhile, having finished +_Hesperus_ in July, 1794, he began work immediately on the genial +_Life of Quintus Fixlein, Based on Fifteen Little Boxes of Memoranda_, +an idyl, like _Wuz_, of the schoolhouse and the parsonage, reflecting +Richter's pedagogical interests and much of his personal experience. +Its satire of philological pedantry has not yet lost pertinence or +pungency. Quintus, ambitious of authorship, proposes to himself a +catalogued interpretation of misprints in German books and other tasks +hardly less laboriously futile. His creator treats him with unfailing +good humor and "the consciousness of a kindred folly." Fixlein is the +archetypal pedant. The very heart of humor is in the account of the +commencement exercises at his school. His little childishnesses are +delightfully set forth; so, too, is his awe of aristocracy. He always +took off his hat before the windows of the manor house, even if he saw +no one there. The crown of it all is The Wedding. The bridal pair's +visit to the graves of by-gone loves is a gem of fantasy. But behind +all the humor and satire must not be forgotten, in view of what was to +follow, the undercurrent of courageous democratic protest which finds +its keenest expression in the "Free Note" to Chapter Six. _Fixlein_ +appeared in 1796. + +Richter's next story, the unfinished _Biographical Recreations under +the Cranium of a Giantess_, sprang immediately from a visit to +Bayreuth in 1794 and his first introduction to aristocracy. Its chief +interest is in the enthusiastic welcome it extends to the French +Revolution. Intrinsically more important is the _Flower, Fruit and +Thorn Pieces_ which crowded the other subject from his mind and tells +with much idyllic charm of "the marriage, life, death and wedding of +F. H. Siebenkäs, Advocate of the Poor" (1796-7). + +In 1796, at the suggestion of the gifted, emancipated and ill-starred +Charlotte von Kalb, Jean Paul visited Weimar, already a Mecca of +literary pilgrimage and the centre of neo-classicism. There, those +who, like Herder, were jealous of Goethe, and those who, like Frau von +Stein, were estranged from him, received the new light with +enthusiasm--others with some reserve. Goethe and Schiller, who were +seeking to blend the classical with the German spirit, demurred to the +vagaries of Jean Paul's unquestioned genius. His own account of his +visit to "the rock-bound Schiller" and to Goethe's "palatial hall" are +precious commonplaces of the histories of literature. There were sides +of Goethe's universal genius to which Richter felt akin, but he was +quite ready to listen to Herder's warning against his townsman's +"unrouged" infidelity, which had become socially more objectionable +since Goethe's union with Christiane Vulpius, and Jean Paul presently +returned to Hof, carrying with him the heart of Charlotte von Kalb, an +unprized and somewhat embarrassing possession. He wished no heroine; +for he was no hero, as he remarked dryly, somewhat later, when +Charlotte had become the first of many "beautiful souls" in confusion +of spirit about their heart's desire. + +In 1797 the death of Jean Paul's mother dissolved home bonds and he +soon left Hof forever, though still for a time maintaining diligent +correspondence with the "erotic academy" as well as with new and more +aristocratic "daughters of the Storm and Stress." The writings of this +period are unimportant, some of them unworthy. Jean Paul was for a +time in Leipzig and in Dresden. In October, 1798, he was again in +Weimar, which, in the sunshine of Herder's praise, seemed at first his +"Canaan," though he soon felt himself out of tune with Duchess +Amalia's literary court. To this time belongs a curious _Conjectural +Biography_, a pretty idyl of an ideal courtship and marriage as his +fancy now painted it for himself. Presently he was moved to essay the +realization of this ideal and was for a time betrothed to Karoline von +Feuchtersleben, her aristocratic connections being partially reconciled +to the _mésalliance_ by Richter's appointment as Legationsrat. He +begins already to look forward, a little ruefully, to the time when his +heart shall be "an extinct marriage-crater," and after a visit to +Berlin, where he basked in the smiles of Queen Luise, he was again +betrothed, this time to the less intellectually gifted, but as devoted +and better dowered Karoline Mayer, whom he married in 1801. He was then +in his thirty-eighth year. + +Richter's marriage is cardinal in his career. Some imaginative work he +was still to do, but the dominant interests were hereafter to be in +education and in political action. In his own picturesque language, +hitherto his quest had been for the golden fleece of womanhood, +hereafter it was to be for a crusade of men. The change had been +already foreshadowed in 1799 by his stirring paper _On Charlotte +Corday_ (published in 1801). + +_Titan_, which Jean Paul regarded as his "principal work and most +complete creation," had been in his mind since 1792. It was begun in +1797 and finished, soon after his betrothal, in 1800. In this novel the +thought of God and immortality is offered as a solution of all problems +of nature and society. _Titan_ is human will in contest with the +divine harmony. The maturing Richter has come to see that idealism in +thought and feeling must be balanced by realism in action if the thinker +is to bear his part in the work of the world. The novel naturally falls +far short of realizing its vast design. Once more the parts are more +than the whole. Some descriptive passages are very remarkable and the +minor characters, notably Roquairol, the Mephistophelean Lovelace, are +more interesting than the hero or the heroine. The unfinished _Wild +Oats_ of 1804, follows a somewhat similar design. The story of Walt +and Vult, twin brothers, Love and Knowledge, offers a study in contrasts +between the dreamy and the practical, with much self-revelation of the +antinomy in the author's own nature. There is something here to recall +his early satires, much more to suggest Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_. + +While _Wild Oats_ was in the making, Richter with his young wife and +presently their first daughter, Emma, was making a sort of triumphal +progress among the court towns of Germany. He received about this time +from Prince Dalberg a pension, afterward continued by the King of +Bavaria. In 1804 the family settled in Bayreuth, which was to remain +Richter's not always happy home till his death in 1825. + +The move to Bayreuth was marked by the appearance of _Introduction to +Esthetics_, a book that, even in remaining a fragment, shows the +parting of the ways. Under its frolicsome exuberance there is keen +analysis, a fine nobility of temper, and abundant subtle observation. +The philosophy was Herder's, and a glowing eulogy of him closes the +study. Its most original and perhaps most valuable section contains a +shrewd discrimination of the varieties of humor, and ends with a +brilliant praise of wit, as though in a recapitulating review of +Richter's own most distinctive contribution to German literature. + +The first fruit to ripen at the Bayreuth home was _Levana_, finished +in October, 1806, just as Napoleon was crushing the power of Prussia +at Jena. Though disconnected and unsystematic _Levana_ has been for +three generations a true yeast of pedagogical ideas, especially in +regard to the education of women and their social position in Germany. +Against the ignorance of the then existing conditions Jean Paul raised +eloquent and indignant protest. "Your teachers, your companions, even +your parents," he exclaims, "trample and crush the little flowers you +shelter and cherish. * * * Your hands are used more than your heads. +They let you play, but only with your fans. Nothing is pardoned you, +least of all a heart." What _Levana_ says of the use and abuse of +philology and about the study of history as a preparation for +political action is no less significant. Goethe, who had been reticent +of praise in regard to the novels, found in _Levana_ "the boldest +virtues without the least excess." + +From the education of children for life Richter turned naturally to +the education of his fellow Germans for citizenship. It was a time of +national crisis. Already in 1805 he had published a _Little Book of +Freedom_, in protest against the censorship of books. Now to his +countrymen, oppressed by Napoleon, he addressed at intervals from 1808 +to 1810, a _Peace Sermon, Twilight Thoughts for Germany_ and _After +Twilight_. Then, as the fires of Moscow heralded a new day, came +_Butterflies of the Dawn_; and when the War of Liberation was over and +the German rulers had proved false to their promises, these +"Butterflies" were expanded and transformed, in 1817, into _Political +Fast-Sermons for Germany's Martyr-Week_, in which Richter denounced +the princes for their faithlessness as boldly as he had done the +sycophants of Bonaparte. + +Most noteworthy of the minor writings of this period is _Dr. +Katzenberger's Journey to the Baths_, published in 1809. The effect of +this rollicking satire on affectation and estheticism was to arouse a +more manly spirit in the nation and so it helped to prepare for the +way of liberation. The patriotic youth of Germany now began to speak +and think of Richter as Jean Paul the Unique. In the years that follow +Waterloo every little journey that Richter took was made the occasion +of public receptions and festivities. Meanwhile life in the Bayreuth +home grew somewhat strained. Both partners might well have heeded +_Levana's_ counsel that "Men should show more love, women more common +sense." + +Of Richter's last decade two books only call for notice here, _Truth +about Jean Paul's Life_, a fragment of autobiography written in 1819, +and _The Comet_, a novel, also unfinished, published at intervals from +1820 to 1822. Hitherto, said Richter of _The Comet_, he had paid too +great deference to rule, "like a child born curled and forthwith +stretched on a swathing cushion." Now, in his maturity, he will, he +says, let himself go; and a wild tale he makes of it, exuberant in +fancy, rich in comedy, unbridled in humor. The Autobiography extends +only to Schwarzenbach and his confirmation, but of all his writings it +has perhaps the greatest charm. + +Richter's last years were clouded by disease, mental and physical, and +by the death of his son Max. A few weeks before his own death he +arranged for an edition of his complete works, for which he was to +receive 35,000 thaler ($26,000). For this he sought a special +privilege, copyright being then very imperfect in Germany, on the +ground that in all his works not one line could be found to offend +religion or virtue. + +He died on November 14, 1825. On the evening of November 17 was the +funeral. Civil and military, state and city officials took part in it. +On the bier was borne the unfinished manuscript of _Selina_, an essay +on immortality. Sixty students with lighted torches escorted the +procession. Other students bore, displayed, _Levana_ and the +_Introduction to Esthetics_. + +Sixteen years after Richter's death the King of Bavaria erected a +statue to him in Bayreuth. But his most enduring monument had already +long been raised in the funeral oration by Ludwig Börne at Frankfurt. +"A Star has set," said the orator, "and the eye of this century will +close before it rises again, for bright genius moves in wide orbits +and our distant descendants will be first again to bid glad welcome +to that from which their fathers have taken sad leave. * * * We shall +mourn for him whom we have lost and for those others who have not lost +him, for he has not lived for all. Yet a time will come when he shall +be born for all and all will lament him. But he will stand patient on +the threshold of the twentieth century and wait smiling till his +creeping people shall come to join him." + + + + +QUINTUS FIXLEIN'S WEDDING[1] + +From _The Life of Quintus Fixlein_ (1796) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY T. CARLYLE + +At the sound of the morning prayer-bell, the bridegroom--for the din +of preparation was disturbing his quiet orison--went out into the +churchyard, which (as in many other places) together with the church, +lay round his mansion like a court. Here, on the moist green, over +whose closed flowers the churchyard wall was still spreading broad +shadows, did his spirit cool itself from the warm dreams of Earth: +here, where the white flat grave-stone of his Teacher lay before him +like the fallen-in door of the Janus-temple of life, or like the +windward side of the narrow house, turned toward the tempests of the +world: here, where the little shrunk metallic door on the grated cross +of his father uttered to him the inscriptions of death, and the year +when his parent departed, and all the admonitions and mementos, graven +on the lead--there, I say, his mood grew softer and more solemn; and +he now lifted up by heart his morning prayer, which usually he read, +and entreated God to bless him in his office, and to spare his +mother's life, and to look with favor and acceptance on the purpose of +today. Then, over the graves, he walked into his fenceless little +angular flower-garden; and here, composed and confident in the divine +keeping, he pressed the stalks of his tulips deeper into the mellow +earth. + +But on returning to the house, he was met on all hands by the +bell-ringing and the Janizary-music of wedding-gladness; the +marriage-guests had all thrown off their nightcaps, and were drinking +diligently; there was a clattering, a cooking, a frizzling; +tea-services, coffee-services, and warm beer-services, were advancing +in succession; and plates full of bride-cakes were going round like +potter's frames or cistern-wheels. The Schoolmaster, with three young +lads, was heard rehearsing from his own house an _Arioso_, with which, +so soon as they were perfect, he purposed to surprise his clerical +superior. But now rushed all the arms of the foaming joy-streams into +one, when the sky-queen besprinkled with blossoms the bride, descended +upon Earth in her timid joy, full of quivering, humble love; when the +bells began; when the procession-column set forth with the whole village +round and before it; when the organ, the congregation, the officiating +priest, and the sparrows on the trees of the church-window, struck louder +and louder their rolling peals on the drum of the jubilee-festival. + +* * * The heart of the singing bridegroom was like to leap from its +place for joy "that on his bridal-day it was all so respectable and +grand." Not till the marriage benediction could he pray a little. + +Still worse and louder grew the business during dinner, when +pastry-work and march-pane-devices were brought forward, when glasses, +and slain fishes (laid under the napkins to frighten the guests) went +round, and when the guests rose and themselves went round, and, at +length, danced round: for they had instrumental music from the city +there. + +One minute handed over to the other the sugar-bowl and bottle-case of +joy: the guests heard and saw less and less, and the villagers began +to see and hear more and more, and toward night they penetrated like a +wedge into the open door--nay, two youths ventured even in the middle +of the parsonage-court to mount a plank over a beam and commence +seesawing. Out of doors, the gleaming vapor of the departed sun was +encircling the earth, the evening-star was glittering over parsonage +and churchyard; no one heeded it. + +However, about nine o'clock, when the marriage-guests had well nigh +forgotten the marriage-pair, and were drinking or dancing along for +their own behoof; when poor mortals, in this sunshine of Fate, like +fishes in the sunshine of the sky, were leaping up from their wet +cold element; and when the bridegroom under the star of happiness and +love, casting like a comet its long train of radiance over all his +heaven, had in secret pressed to his joy-filled breast his bride and +his mother--then did he lock a slice of wedding-bread privily into a +press, in the old superstitious belief that this residue secured +continuance of bread for the whole marriage. As he returned, with +greater love for the sole partner of his life, she herself met him +with his mother, to deliver him in private the bridal-nightgown and +bridal-shirt, as is the ancient usage. Many a countenance grows pale +in violent emotions, even of joy. Thiennette's wax-face was bleaching +still whiter under the sunbeams of Happiness. O, never fall, thou lily +of Heaven, and may four springs instead of four seasons open and shut +thy flower-bells to the sun! All the arms of his soul, as he floated +on the sea of joy, were quivering to clasp the soft warm heart of his +beloved, to encircle it gently and fast, and draw it to his own. + +He led her from the crowded dancing-room into the cool evening. Why +does the evening, does the night, put warmer love in our hearts? Is it +the nightly pressure of helplessness or is it the exalting separation +from the turmoil of life--that veiling of the world, in which for the +soul nothing more remains but souls;--is it therefore that the letters +in which the loved name stands written on our spirit appear, like +phosphorus-writing, by night, _in fire_, while by day in their +_cloudy_ traces they but smoke? + +He walked with his bride into the Castle garden: she hastened quickly +through the Castle, and past its servants' hall, where the fair flowers +of her young life had been crushed broad and dry, under a long dreary +pressure; and her soul expanded and breathed in the free open garden, +on whose flowery soil destiny had cast forth the first seeds of the +blossoms which today were gladdening her existence. Still Eden! Green +flower-chequered _chiaroscuro_! The moon is sleeping under ground +like a dead one; but beyond the garden the sun's red evening-clouds +have fallen down like rose-leaves; and the evening-star, the brideman +of the sun, hovers, like a glancing butterfly, above the rosy red, +and, modest as a bride, deprives no single starlet of its light. + +[Illustration: BRIDAL PROCESSION _From the Painting by Ludwig Richter_] + +The wandering pair arrived at the old gardener's hut, now standing +locked and dumb, with dark windows in the light garden, like a +fragment of the Past surviving in the Present. Bared twigs of trees +were folding, with clammy half-formed leaves, over the thick +intertwisted tangles of the bushes. The Spring was standing, like a +conqueror, with Winter at his feet. In the blue pond, now bloodless, a +dusky evening sky lay hollowed out, and the gushing waters were +moistening the flower-beds. The silver sparks of stars were rising on +the altar of the East, and, falling down, were extinguished in the red +sea of the West. + +The wind whirred, like a night-bird, louder through the trees, and +gave tones to the acacia-grove; and the tones called to the pair who +had first become happy within it: "Enter, new mortal pair, and think +of what is past, and of my withering and your own; be holy as Eternity, +and weep not only for joy, but for gratitude also!" And the wet-eyed +bridegroom led his wet-eyed bride under the blossoms, and laid his +soul, like a flower, on her heart, and said: "Best Thiennette, I am +unspeakably happy, and would say much, but cannot! Ah, thou Dearest, +we will live like angels, like children together! Surely I will do +all that is good to thee; two years ago I had nothing, no, nothing; +ah, it is through thee, best love, that I am happy. I call thee Thou, +now, thou dear good soul!" She drew him closer to her, and said, though +without kissing him: "Call me Thou always, Dearest!" + +And as they stept forth again from the sacred grove into the +magic-dusky garden, he took off his hat; first, that he might +internally thank God, and, secondly, because he wished to look into +this fairest evening sky. + +They reached the blazing, rustling, marriage-house, but their +softened hearts sought stillness; and a foreign touch, as in the +blossoming vine, would have disturbed the flower-nuptials of their +souls. They turned rather, and winded up into the churchyard to +preserve their mood. Majestic on the groves and mountains stood the +Night before man's heart, and made that also great. Over the _white_ +steeple-obelisk the sky rested _bluer_, and _darker_; and, behind it, +wavered the withered summit of the May-pole with faded flag. The son +noticed his father's grave, on which the wind was opening and +shutting, with harsh noise, the little door of the metal cross, to let +the year of his death be read on the brass plate within. As an +overpowering sadness seized his heart with violent streams of tears, +and drove him to the sunk hillock, he led his bride to the grave, and +said: "Here sleeps he, my good father; in his thirty-second year he +was carried hither to his long rest. O thou good, dear father, couldst +thou today but see the happiness of thy son, like my mother! But thy +eyes are empty, and thy breast is full of ashes, and thou seest us +not." He was silent. The bride wept aloud; she saw the moldering +coffins of her parents open, and the two dead arise and look round for +their daughter, who had stayed so long behind them, forsaken on the +earth. She fell upon his heart, and faltered: "O beloved, I have +neither father nor mother. Do not forsake me!" + +O thou who hast still a father and a mother, thank God for it, on the +day when thy soul is full of joyful tears and needs a bosom whereon to +shed them. + +And with this embracing at a father's grave, let this day of joy be +holily concluded. + + + + +ROME[2] + +From _Titan_ (1800) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY C. T. BROOKS + +Half an hour after the earthquake the heavens swathed themselves in +seas, and dashed them down in masses and in torrents. The naked +_Campagna_ and heath were covered with the mantle of rain. Gaspard was +silent, the heavens black; the great thought stood alone in Albano +that he was hastening on toward the bloody scaffold and the +throne-scaffolding of humanity, the heart of a cold, dead +heathen-world, the eternal Rome; and when he heard, on the _Ponte +Molle_, that he was now going across the Tiber, then was it to him as +if the past had risen from the dead, as if the stream of time ran +backward and bore him with it; under the streams of heaven he heard +the seven old mountain-streams, rushing and roaring, which once came +down from Rome's hills, and, with seven arms, uphove the world from +its foundations. At length the constellation of the mountain city of +God, that stood so broad before him, opened out into distant nights; +cities, with scattered lights, lay up and down, and the bells (which +to his ear were alarm-bells) sounded out the fourth hour; [3] when the +carriage rolled through the triumphal gate of the city, the _Porta del +Popolo_, then the moon rent her black heavens, and poured down out of +the cleft clouds the splendor of a whole sky. There stood the Egyptian +Obelisk of the gateway, high as the clouds, in the night, and three +streets ran gleaming apart. "So," (said Albano to himself, as they +passed through the long _Corso_ to the tenth ward) "thou art veritably +in the camp of the God of war--here is where he grasped the hilt of +the monstrous war-sword, and with the point made the three wounds in +three quarters of the world!" Rain and splendor gushed through the +vast, broad streets; occasionally he passed suddenly along by gardens, +and into broad city-deserts and market-places of the past. The rolling +of the carriages amidst the rush and roar of the rain resembled the +thunder whose days were once holy to this heroic city, like the +thundering heaven to the thundering earth; muffled-up forms, with +little lights, stole through the dark streets; often there stood a +long palace with colonnades in the light of the moon, often a solitary +gray column, often a single high fir tree, or a statue behind +cypresses. Once, when there was neither rain nor moonshine, the +carriage went round the corner of a large house, on whose roof a tall, +blooming virgin, with an uplooking child on her arm, herself directed +a little hand-light, now toward a white statue, now toward the child, +and so, alternately, illuminated each. This friendly group made its +way to the very centre of his soul, now so highly exalted, and brought +with it, to him, many a recollection; particularly was a Roman child +to him a wholly new and mighty idea. + +They alighted at last at the Prince _di Lauria's_--Gaspard's +father-in-law and old friend. * * * Albano, dissatisfied with all, kept +his inspiration sacrificing to the unearthly gods of the past round +about him, after the old fashion, namely, with silence. Well might he +and could he have discussed, but otherwise, namely in odes, with the +whole man, with streams which mount and grow upward. He looked even more +and more longingly out of the window at the moon in the pure rain-blue, +and at single columns of the Forum; out of doors there gleamed for him +the greatest world. At last he rose up, indignant and impatient, and +stole down into the glimmering glory, and stepped before the Forum; but +the moonlit night, that decoration-painter, which works with irregular +strokes, made almost the very stage of the scene irrecognizable to him. + +What a dreary, broad plain, loftily encompassed with ruins, gardens +and temples, covered with prostrate capitals of columns, and with +single, upright pillars, and with trees and a dumb wilderness! The +heaped-up ashes out of the emptied urn of Time! And the potsherds of a +great world flung around! He passed by three temple columns,[4] which +the earth had drawn down into itself even to the breast, and along +through the broad triumphal arch of Septimius Severus; on the right, +stood a chain of columns without their temple; on the left, attached +to a Christian church, the colonnade of an ancient heathen temple, +deep sunken into the sediment of time; at last the triumphal arch of +Titus, and before it, in the middle of the woody wilderness, a +fountain gushing into a granite basin. + +He went up to this fountain, in order to survey the plain out of which +the thunder months of the earth once arose; but he went along as over +a burnt-out sun, hung round with dark, dead earths. "O Man, O the +dreams of Man!" something within him unceasingly cried. He stood on +the granite margin, turning toward the Coliseum, whose mountain ridges +of wall stood high in the moonlight, with the deep gaps which had been +hewn in them by the scythe of Time. Sharply stood the rent and ragged +arches of Nero's golden house close by, like murderous cutlasses. The +Palatine Hill lay full of green gardens, and, in crumbling +temple-roofs, the blooming death-garland of ivy was gnawing, and +living ranunculi still glowed around sunken capitals. The fountain +murmured babblingly and forever, and the stars gazed steadfastly down, +with transitory rays, upon the still battlefield over which the winter +of time had passed without bringing after it a spring; the fiery soul +of the world had flown up, and the cold, crumbling giant lay around; +torn asunder were the gigantic spokes of the main-wheel, which once +the very stream of ages drove. And in addition to all this, the moon +shed down her light like eating silver-water upon the naked columns, +and would fain have dissolved the Coliseum and the temples and all +into their own shadows! + +Then Albano stretched out his arm into the air, as if he were giving +an embrace and flowing away as in the arms of a stream, and exclaimed, +"O ye mighty shades, ye, who once strove and lived here, ye are +looking down from Heaven, but scornfully, not sadly, for your great +fatherland has died and gone after you! Ah, had I, on the +insignificant earth, full of old eternity which you have made great, +only done one action worthy of you! Then were it sweet to me and +legitimate to open my heart by a wound, and to mix earthly blood with +the hallowed soil, and, out of the world of graves, to hasten away to +you, eternal and immortal ones! But I am not worthy of it!" + +At this moment there came suddenly along up the _Via Sacra_ a tall +man, deeply enveloped in a mantle, who drew near the fountain without +looking round, threw down his hat, and held a coal-black, curly, +almost perpendicular, hindhead under the stream of water. But hardly +had he, turning upward, caught a glimpse of the profile of Albano, +absorbed in his fancies, when he started up, all dripping, stared at +the count, fell into an amazement, threw his arms high into the air, +and said, "_Amico_!" Albano looked at him. The stranger said, +"Albano!" "My Dian!" cried Albano; they clasped each other +passionately and wept for love. + +Dian could not comprehend it at all; he said in Italian: "But it +surely cannot be you; you look old." He thought he was speaking German +all the time, till he heard Albano answer in Italian. Both gave and +received only questions. Albano found the architect merely browner, +but there was the lightning of the eyes and every faculty in its old +glory. With three words he related to him the journey, and who the +company were. "How does Rome strike you?" asked Dian, pleasantly. "As +life does," replied Albano, very seriously, "it makes me too soft and +too hard." "I recognize here absolutely nothing at all," he continued; +"do those columns belong to the magnificent temple of Peace?" "No," +said Dian, "to the temple of Concord; of the other there stands yonder +nothing but the vault." "Where is Saturn's temple?" asked Albano. +"Buried in St. Adrian's church," said Dian, and added hastily: "Close +by stand the ten columns of Antonine's temple; over beyond there the +baths of Titus; behind us the Palatine hill; and so on. Now tell +me--!" + +They walked up and down the Forum, between the arches of Titus and +Severus. Albano (being near the teacher who, in the days of childhood, +had so often conducted him hitherward) was yet full of the stream +which had swept over the world, and the all-covering water sunk but +slowly. He went on and said: "Today, when he beheld the Obelisk, the +soft, tender brightness of the moon had seemed to him eminently +unbecoming for the giant city; he would rather have seen a sun blazing +on its broad banner; but now the moon was the proper funeral-torch +beside the dead Alexander, who, at a touch, collapses into a handful +of dust." "The artist does not get far with feelings of this kind," +said Dian, "he must look upon everlasting beauties on the right hand +and on the left." "Where," Albano went on asking, "is the old lake of +Curtius--the Rostrum--the pila Horatia--the temple of Vesta--of Venus, +and of all those solitary columns?" "And where is the marble Forum +itself?" said Dian; "it lies thirty span deep below our feet." "Where +is the great, free people, the senate of kings, the voice of the +orators, the procession to the Capitol? Buried under the mountain of +potsherds! O Dian, how can a man who loses a father, a beloved, in +Rome shed a single tear or look round him with consternation, when he +comes out here before this battle-field of time and looks into the +charnel-house of the nations? Dian, one would wish here an iron heart, +for fate has an iron hand!" + +Dian, who nowhere stayed more reluctantly than upon such tragic cliffs +hanging over, as it were, into the sea of eternity, almost leaped off +from them with a joke; like the Greeks, he blended dances with +tragedy! "Many a thing is preserved here, friend!" said he; "in +Adrian's church yonder they will still show you the bones of the three +men that walked in the fire." "That is just the frightful play of +destiny," replied Albano, "to occupy the heights of the mighty +ancients with monks shorn down into slaves." + +"The stream of time drives new wheels," said Dian "yonder lies Raphael +twice buried.[5]" * * * And so they climbed silently and speedily over +rubbish and torsos of columns, and neither gave heed to the mighty +emotion of the other. + +Rome, like the Creation, is an entire wonder, which gradually +dismembers itself into new wonders, the Coliseum, the Pantheon, St. +Peter's church, Raphael, etc. + +With the passage through the church of St. Peter, the knight began the +noble course through Immortality. The Princess let herself, by the tie +of Art, be bound to the circle of the men. As Albano was more smitten +with edifices than with any other work of man, so did he see from +afar, with holy heart, the long mountain-chain of Art, which again +bore upon itself hills, so did he stop before the plain, around which +the enormous colonnades run like Corsos, bearing a people of statues. +In the centre shoots up the Obelisk, and on its right and left an +eternal fountain, and from the lofty steps the proud Church of the +world, inwardly filled with churches, rearing upon itself a temple +toward Heaven, looks down upon the earth. But how wonderfully, as they +drew near, had its columns and its rocky wall mounted up and flown +away from the vision! + +He entered the magic church, which gave the world blessings, curses, +kings and popes, with the consciousness, that, like the world-edifice, +it was continually enlarging and receding more and more the longer one +remained in it. They went up to two children of white marble who held +an incense-muscle-shell of yellow marble; the children grew by +nearness till they were giants. At length they stood at the main +altar and its hundred perpetual lamps. What a place! Above them the +heaven's arch of the dome, resting on four inner towers; around them +an over-arched city of four streets in which stood churches. The +temple became greatest by walking in it; and, when they passed round +one column, there stood a new one before them, and holy giants gazed +earnestly down. + +Here was the youth's large heart, after so long a time, filled. "In no +art," said he to his father, "is the soul so mightily possessed with +the sublime as in architecture; in every other the giant stands within +and in the depths of the soul, but here he stands out of and close +before it." Dian, to whom all images were more clear than abstract +ideas, said he was perfectly right. Fraischdörfer replied, "The +sublime also here lies only in the brain, for the whole church stands, +after all, in something greater, namely, in Rome, and under the +heavens; in the presence of which latter we certainly should not feel +anything." He also complained that "the place for the sublime in his +head was very much narrowed by the innumerable volutes and monuments +which the temple shut up therein at the same time with itself." +Gaspard, taking everything in a large sense, remarked, "When the +sublime once really appears, it then, by its very nature, absorbs and +annihilates all little circumstantial ornaments." He adduced as +evidence the tower of the Minster,[6] and Nature itself, which is not +made smaller by its grasses and villages. + +Among so many connoisseurs of art, the Princess enjoyed in silence. + +The ascent of the dome Gaspard recommended to defer to a dry and +cloudless day, in order that they might behold the queen of the world, +Rome, upon and from the proper throne; he therefore proposed, very +zealously, the visiting of the Pantheon, because he was eager to let +this follow immediately after the impression of Saint Peter's church. +They went thither. How simply and grandly the hall opens! Eight +yellow columns sustain its brow, and majestically as the head of the +Homeric Jupiter its temple arches itself. It is the Rotunda or +Pantheon. "O the pigmies," cried Albano, "who would fain give us new +temples! Raise the old ones higher out of the rubbish, and then you +have built enough!" [7] They stepped in. There rose round about them a +holy, simple, free world-structure, with its heaven-arches soaring and +striving upward, an Odeum of the tones of the Sphere-music, a world in +the world! And overhead[8] the eye-socket of the light and of the sky +gleamed down, and the distant rack of clouds seemed to touch the lofty +arch over which it shot along! And round about them stood nothing but +the temple-bearers, the columns! The temple of _all_ gods endured and +concealed the diminutive altars of the later ones. + +Gaspard questioned Albano about his impressions. He said he preferred +the larger church of Saint Peter. The knight approved, and said that +youth, like nations, always more easily found and better appreciated +the sublime than the beautiful, and that the spirit of the young man +ripened from strong to beautiful, as the body of the same ripens from +the beautiful into the strong; however, he himself preferred the +Pantheon. "How could the moderns," said the Counsellor of Arts, +Fraischdörfer, "build anything, except some little Bernini-like +turrets?" "That is why," said the offended Provincial Architect, Dian +(who despised the Counsellor of Arts, because he never made a good +figure except in the esthetic hall of judgment as critic, never in the +exhibition-hall as painter), "we moderns are, without contradiction, +stronger in criticism; though in practice we are, collectively and +individually, blockheads." Bouverot remarked that the Corinthian +columns might be higher. The Counsellor of Arts said that after all he +knew nothing more like this fine hemisphere than a much smaller one, +which he had found in Herculaneum molded in ashes, of the bosom of a +fair fugitive. The knight laughed, and Albano turned away in disgust +and went to the Princess. + +He asked her for her opinion about the two temples. "Sophocles here, +Shakespeare there; but I comprehend and appreciate Sophocles more +easily," she replied, and looked with new eyes into his new +countenance. For the supernatural illumination through the zenith of +Heaven, not through a hazy horizon, transfigured, in her eyes, the +beautiful and excited countenance of the youth; and she took for +granted that the saintly halo of the dome must also exalt her form. +When he answered her: "Very good! But in Shakespeare, Sophocles also +is contained, not, however, Shakespeare in Sophocles--and upon Peter's +Church stands Angelo's Rotunda!", just then the lofty cloud, all at +once, as by the blow of a hand out of the ether, broke in two, and the +ravished Sun, like the eye of a Venus floating through her ancient +heavens--for she once stood even here--looked mildly in from the upper +deep; then a holy radiance filled the temple, and burned on the +porphyry of the pavement, and Albano looked around him in an ecstasy +of wonder and delight, and said with low voice: "How transfigured at +this moment is everything in this sacred place! Raphael's spirit comes +forth from his grave in this noontide hour, and everything which its +reflection touches brightens into godlike splendor!" The Princess +looked upon him tenderly, and he lightly laid his hand upon hers, and +said, as one vanquished, "Sophocles!" + +On the next moonlit evening, Gaspard bespoke torches, in order that +the Coliseum, with its giant-circle, might the first time stand in +fire before them. The knight would fain have gone around alone with +his son, dimly through the dim work, like two spirits of the olden +time, but the Princess forced herself upon him, from a too lively wish +to share with the noble youth his great moments, and perhaps, in fact, +her heart and his own. Women do not sufficiently comprehend that an +idea, when it fills and elevates man's mind, shuts it, then, against +love, and crowds out persons; whereas with woman all ideas easily +become human beings. + +They passed over the Forum, by the _Via Sacra_, to the Coliseum, whose +lofty, cloven forehead looked down pale under the moonlight. They +stood before the gray rock-walls, which reared themselves on four +colonnades one above another, and the torchlight shot up into the +arches of the arcades, gilding the green shrubbery high overhead, and +deep in the earth had the noble monster already buried his feet. They +stepped in and ascended the mountain, full of fragments of rock, from +one seat of the spectators to another. Gaspard did not venture to the +sixth or highest, where the men used to stand, but Albano and the +Princess did. Then the youth gazed down over the cliffs, upon the +round, green crater of the burnt-out volcano, which once swallowed +nine thousand beasts at once, and which quenched itself with human +blood. The lurid glare of the torches penetrated into the clefts and +caverns, and among the foliage of the ivy and laurel, and among the +great shadows of the moon, which, like departed spirits, hovered in +caverns. Toward the south, where the streams of centuries and +barbarians had stormed in, stood single columns and bare arcades. +Temples and three palaces had the giant fed and lined with his limbs, +and still, with all his wounds, he looked out livingly into the world. + +"What a people!" said Albano. "Here curled the giant snake five times +about Christianity. Like a smile of scorn lies the moonlight down +below there upon the green arena, where once stood the Colossus of the +Sun-god. The star of the north[9] glimmers low through the windows, +and the Serpent and the Bear crouch. What a world has gone by!" The +Princess answered that "twelve thousand prisoners built this theatre, +and that a great many more had bled therein." "O! we too have +building prisoners," said he, "but for fortifications; and blood, too, +still flows, but with sweat! No, we have no present; the past, without +it, must bring forth a future." + +The Princess went to break a laurel-twig and pluck a blooming +wall-flower. Albano sank away into musing: the autumnal wind of the +past swept over the stubble. On this holy eminence he saw the +constellations, Rome's green hills, the glimmering city, the Pyramid +of Cestius; but all became Past, and on the twelve hills dwelt, as +upon graves, the lofty old spirits, and looked sternly into the age, +as if they were still its kings and judges. + +"This to remember the place and time!" said the approaching Princess, +handing him the laurel and the flower. "Thou mighty One! a Coliseum is +thy flower-pot; to thee is nothing too great, and nothing too small!" +said he, and threw the Princess into considerable confusion, till she +observed that he meant not her, but nature. His whole being seemed +newly and painfully moved, and, as it were, removed to a distance: he +looked down after his father, and went to find him; he looked at him +sharply, and spoke of nothing more this evening. + + + + +THE OPENING OF THE WILL + +From the _Flegeljahre_ (1804) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. KING + +Since Haslau had been a princely residence no one could remember any +event--the birth of the heir apparent excepted--that had been awaited +with such curiosity as the opening of the Van der Kabel will. Van der +Kabel might have been called the Haslau Croesus--and his life +described as a pleasure-making mint, or a washing of gold sand under a +golden rain, or in whatever other terms wit could devise. Now, seven +distant living relatives of seven distant deceased relatives of Kabel +were cherishing some hope of a legacy, because the Croesus had sworn +to remember them. These hopes, however, were very faint. No one was +especially inclined to trust him, as he not only conducted himself on +all occasions in a gruffly moral and unselfish manner--in regard to +morality, to be sure, the seven relatives were still beginners--but +likewise treated everything so derisively and possessed a heart so +full of tricks and surprises that there was no dependence to be placed +upon him. The eternal smile hovering around his temples and thick +lips, and the mocking falsetto voice, impaired the good impression +that might otherwise have been made by his nobly cut face and a pair +of large hands, from which New Year's presents, benefit performances, +and gratuities were continually falling. Wherefore the birds of +passage proclaimed the man, this human mountain-ash in which they +nested and of whose berries they ate, to be in reality a dangerous +trap; and they seemed hardly able to see the visible berries for the +invisible snares. + +Between two attacks of apoplexy he made his will and deposited it with +the magistrate. Though half dead when, he gave over the certificate +to the seven presumptive heirs he said in his old tone of voice that +he did not wish this token of his decease to cause dejection to mature +men whom he would much rather think of as laughing than as weeping +heirs. And only one of them, the coldly ironical Police-Inspector +Harprecht, answered the smilingly ironical Croesus: "It was not in +their power to determine the extent of their collective sympathy in +such a loss." + +At last the seven heirs appeared with their certificate at the city +hall. These were the Consistorial Councilor Glanz, the Police +Inspector, the Court-Agent Neupeter, the Attorney of the Royal +Treasury Knol, the Bookseller Passvogel, the Preacher-at-Early-Service +Flachs, and Herr Flitte from Alsace. They duly and properly requested +of the magistrates the charter consigned to the latter by the late +Kabel, and asked for the opening of the will. The chief executor of +the will was the officiating Burgomaster in person, the +under-executors were the Municipal-Councilors. Presently the charter +and the will were fetched from the Council-chamber into the +Burgomaster's office, they were passed around to all the Councilors +and the heirs, in order that they might see the privy seal of the city +upon them, and the registry of the consignment written by the town +clerk upon the charter was read aloud to the seven heirs. Thereby it +was made known to them that the charter had really been consigned to +the magistrates by the late departed one and confided to them _scrinio +rei publicæ_, likewise that he had been in his right mind on the day +of the consignment. The seven seals which he himself had placed upon +it were found to be intact. Then--after the Town-Clerk had again drawn +up a short record of all this--the will was opened in God's name and +read aloud by the officiating Burgomaster. It ran as follows: + +"I, Van der Kabel, do draw up my will on this seventh day of May 179-, +here in my house in Haslau, in Dog Street, without a great ado of +words, although I have been both a German notary and a Dutch _dominé_. +Notwithstanding, I believe that I am still sufficiently familiar with +the notary's art to be able to act as a regular testator and +bequeather of property. + +"Testators are supposed to commence by setting forth the motives which +have caused them to make their will. These with me, as with most, are +my approaching death, and the disposal of an inheritance which is +desired by many. To talk about the funeral and such matters is too +weak and silly. That which remains of me, however, may the eternal sun +above us make use of for one of his verdant springs, not for a gloomy +winter! + +"The charitable bequests, about which notaries must always inquire, I +shall attend to by setting aside for three thousand of the city's +paupers an equal number of florins so that in the years to come, on +the anniversary of my death, if the annual review of the troops does +not happen to take place on the common that day, they can pitch their +camp there and have a merry feast off the money, and afterward clothe +themselves with the tent linen. To all the schoolmasters of our +Principality also I bequeath to every man one august d'or, and I leave +my pew in the Court church to the Jews of the city. My will being +divided into clauses, this may be taken as the first. + +"SECOND CLAUSE + +It is the general custom for legacies and disinheritances to be +counted among the most essential parts of the will. In accordance with +this custom Consistorial Councillor Glanz, Attorney of the Royal +Treasury Knol, Court-Agent Peter Neupeter, Police-Inspector Harprecht, +the Preacher-at-Early-Service Flachs, the Court-bookseller Passvogel +and Herr Flitte, for the time being receive nothing; not so much +because no _Trebellianica_ is due them as the most distant relatives, +or because most of them have themselves enough to bequeath, as because +I know out of their own mouths that they love my insignificant person +better than my great wealth, which person I therefore leave them, +little as can be got out of it." + +Seven preternaturally long faces at this point started up like the +Seven-sleepers. The Consistorial Councillor, a man still young but +celebrated throughout all Germany for his oral and printed sermons, +considered himself the one most insulted by such taunts. From the +Alsatian Flitte there escaped an oath accompanied by a slight smack of +the tongue. The chin of Flachs, the Preacher-at-Early-Service, grew +downward into a regular beard. + +The City Councillors could hear several softly ejaculated obituaries +referring to the late Kabel under the name of scamp, fool, infidel, +etc. But the officiating Burgomaster waved his hand, the Attorney of +the Royal Treasury and the Bookseller again bent all the elastic steel +springs of their faces as if setting a trap, and the Burgomaster +continued to read, although with enforced seriousness. + +"THIRD CLAUSE + +I make an exception of the present house in Dog Street which, after +this my third clause, shall, just as it stands, devolve upon and +belong to that one of my seven above-named relatives, who first, +before the other six rivals, can in one half hour's time (to be +reckoned from the reading of the Clause) shed one or two tears over +me, his departed uncle, in the presence of an estimable magistrate who +shall record the same. If, however, all eyes remain dry, then the +house likewise shall fall to the exclusive heir whom I am about to +name." + +Here the Burgomaster closed the will, remarked that the condition was +certainly unusual but not illegal, and the court must adjudge the +house to the first one who wept. With which he placed his watch, which +pointed to half-past eleven, on the office-table, and sat himself +quietly down in order in his capacity of executor to observe, together +with the whole court, who should first shed the desired tear over the +testator. It cannot fairly be assumed that, as long as the earth has +stood, a more woe-begone and muddled congress ever met upon it than +this one composed of seven dry provinces assembled together, as it +were, in order to weep. At first some precious minutes were spent +merely in confused wondering and in smiling; the congress had been +placed too suddenly in the situation of the dog who, when about to +rush angrily at his enemy, heard the latter call out: Beg!--and who +suddenly got upon his hind legs and begged, showing his teeth. From +cursing they had been pulled up too quickly into weeping. + +Every one realized that genuine emotion was not to be thought of; +downpours do not come quite so much on the gallop; such sudden baptism +of the eyes was out of the question; but in twenty-six minutes +something might happen. + +The merchant Neupeter asked if it were not an accursed business and a +foolish joke on the part of a sensible man, and he refused to lend +himself to it; but the thought that a house might swim into his purse +on a tear caused him a peculiar irritation of the glands, which made +him look like a sick lark to whom a clyster is being applied with an +oiled pinhead--the house being the head. + +The Attorney of the Royal Treasury Knol screwed up his face like a +poor workman, whom an apprentice is shaving and scraping on a Saturday +evening by the light of a shoemaker's candle; he was furiously angry +at the misuse made of the title "Will" and quite near to shedding +tears of rage. + +The crafty Bookseller Passvogel at once quietly set about the matter +in hand; he hastily went over in his mind all the touching things +which he was publishing at his own expense or on commission, and from +which he hoped to brew something; he looked the while like a dog that +is slowly licking off the emetic which the Parisian veterinary, Demet, +had smeared on his nose; it would evidently be some time before the +desired effect would take place. + +Flitte from Alsace danced around in the Burgomaster's office, looked +laughingly at all the serious faces and swore he was not the richest +among them, but not for all Strasburg and Alsace besides was he +capable of weeping over such a joke. + +At last the Police-Inspector looked very significantly at him and +declared: In case Monsieur hoped by means of laughter to squeeze the +desired drops out of the well-known glands and out of the Meibomian, +the caruncle, and others, and thus thievishly to cover himself with +this window-pane moisture, he wished to remind him that he could gain +just as little by it as if he should blow his nose and try to profit +by that, as in the latter case it was well known that more tears +flowed from the eyes through the _ductus nasalis_ than were shed in +any church-pew during a funeral sermon. But the Alsatian assured him +he was only laughing in fun and not with serious intentions. + +The Inspector for his part tried to drive something appropriate into +his eyes by holding them wide open and staring fixedly. + +The Preacher-at-Early-Service Flachs looked like a Jew beggar riding a +runaway horse. Meanwhile his heart, which was already overcast with +the most promising sultry clouds caused by domestic and +church-troubles, could have immediately drawn up the necessary water, +as easily as the sun before bad weather, if only the floating-house +navigating toward him had not always come between as a much too +cheerful spectacle, and acted as a dam. + +The Consistorial Councillor had learned to know his own nature from +New Year's and funeral sermons, and was positive that he himself would +be the first to be moved if only he started to make a moving address +to others. When therefore he saw himself and the others hanging so +long on the drying-line, he stood up and said with dignity: Every one +who had read his printed works knew for a certainty that he carried a +heart in his breast, which needed to repress such holy tokens as tears +are--so as not thereby to deprive any fellowman of something--rather +than laboriously to draw them to the surface with an ulterior motive. +"This heart has already shed them, but in secret, for Kabel was my +friend," he said, and looked around. + +He noticed with pleasure that all were sitting there as dry as wooden +corks; at this special moment crocodiles, stags, elephants, witches, +ravens[10] could have wept more easily than the heirs, so disturbed +and enraged were they by Glanz. Flachs was the only one who had a +secret inspiration. He hastily summoned to his mind Kabel's charities +and the mean clothes and gray hair of the women who formed his +congregation at the early-service, Lazarus with his dogs, and his own +long coffin, and also the beheading of various people, Werther's +Sorrows, a small battlefield, and himself--how pitifully here in the +days of his youth he was struggling and tormenting himself over the +clause of the will--just three more jerks of the pump-handle and he +would have his water and the house. + +"O Kabel, my Kabel!" continued Glanz, almost weeping for joy at the +prospect of the approaching tears of sorrow. "When once beside your +loving heart covered with earth my heart too shall mol--" + +"I believe, honored gentlemen," said Flachs mournfully, arising and +looking around, his eyes brimming over, "I am weeping." After which he +sat down again and let them flow more cheerfully; he had feathered his +nest. Under the eyes of the other heirs he had snatched away the +prize-house from Glanz, who now extremely regretted his exertions, +since he had quite uselessly talked away half of his appetite. The +emotion of Flachs was placed on record and the house in Dog Street was +adjudged to him for good and all. The Burgomaster was heartily glad to +see the poor devil get it. It was the first time in the principality +of Haslau that the tears of a school-master and teacher-of-the-church +had been metamorphosed, not like those of the Heliades into light +amber, which incased an insect, but like those of the goddess Freya, +into gold. Glanz congratulated Flachs, and gayly drew his attention to +the fact that perhaps he, Glanz, had helped to move him. The rest drew +aside, by their separation accentuating their position on the dry road +from that of Flachs on the wet; all, however, remained intent upon the +rest of the will. + +Then the reading of it was continued. + + + + +_WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT_ + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER AND THE PROCESS OF HIS INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT + +From the _Introduction to the Correspondence of Schiller and +W. von Humboldt_ (1830) + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. KING + +Schiller's poetic genius showed itself in his very first productions. +In spite of all their defects in form, in spite of many things which +to the mature artist seemed absolutely crude, _The Robbers_ and +_Fiesko_ gave evidence of remarkable inherent power. His genius +later betrayed itself in the longing for poetry, as for the native +atmosphere of his spirit, which longing constantly breaks out in his +varied philosophical and historical labors and is often hinted at in +his letters to me. It finally revealed itself in virile power and +refined purity in those dramas which will long remain the pride and +the renown of the German stage. + +This poetic genius, however, is most closely wedded, in all its height +and depth, to thought; it manifests itself, in fact, in an +intellectuality which by analysis would separate everything into its +parts, and then by combination would unite all in one complete whole. +In this lies Schiller's peculiar individuality. He demanded of poetry +more profundity of thought and forced it to submit to a more rigid +intellectual unity than it had ever had before. This he did in a +two-fold manner--by binding it into a more strictly artistic form, and +by treating every poem in such a way that its subject-matter readily +broadened its individuality until it expressed a complete idea. + +It is upon these peculiarities that the excellence which characterizes +Schiller as a writer rests. It is because of them that, in order to +bring out the greatest and best of which he was capable, he needed a +certain amount of time before his completely developed individuality, +to which his poetic genius was indissolubly united, could reach that +point of clearness and definiteness of expression which he demanded of +himself. * * * + +On the other hand, it would probably be agreeable to the reader of +this correspondence if I should attempt briefly to show how my opinion +of Schiller's individuality was formed by intercourse with him, by +reminiscences of his conversation, by the comparison of his +productions in their successive sequence, and by a study of the +development of his intellect. + +What must necessarily have impressed every student of Schiller as most +characteristic was the fact that thinking was the very substance of +his life, in a higher and more significant sense than perhaps has ever +been the case with any other person. His intellect was alive with +spontaneous and almost tireless activity, which ceased only when the +attacks of his physical infirmity became overpowering. Such activity +seemed to him a recreation rather than an effort, and was manifested +most conspicuously in conversation, for which Schiller appeared to +have a natural aptitude. + +He never sought for deep subjects of conversation, but seemed rather +to leave the introduction of a subject to chance; but from each topic +he led the discourse up to a general point of view, and after a short +dialogue one found oneself in the very midst of a mentally stimulating +discussion. He always treated the central idea as an end to be +attained in common; he always seemed to need the help of the person +with whom he was conversing, for, although the latter always felt that +the idea was supplied by Schiller alone, Schiller never allowed him to +remain inactive. + +This was the chief difference between Schiller's and Herder's mode of +conversing. Never, perhaps, has there been a man who talked with +greater charm than Herder, if one happened to catch him in an +agreeable mood--not a difficult matter when any kind of note was +struck with which he was in harmony. + +[Illustration: #WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT# FRANZ KRÜGER] + +All the extraordinary qualities of this justly admired man seemed to +gain double power in conversation, for which they were so peculiarly +adapted. The thought blossomed forth in expression with a grace and +dignity which appeared to proceed from the subject alone, although +really belonging only to the individual. Thus speech flowed on +uninterruptedly with a limpidness which still left something remaining +for one's own imagination, and yet with a _chiaroscuro_ which did not +prevent one from definitely grasping the thought. As soon as one +subject was exhausted a new one was taken up. Nothing was gained by +making objections which would only have served as a hindrance. One had +listened, one could even talk oneself, but one felt the lack of an +interchange of thought. + +Schiller's speech was not really beautiful, but his mind constantly +strove, with acumen and precision, to make new intellectual conquests; +he held this effort under control, however, and soared above his +subject in perfect liberty. Hence, with a light and delicate touch he +utilized any side-issue which presented itself, and this was the +reason why his conversation was peculiarly rich in words that are so +evidently the inspiration of the moment; yet, in spite of such seeming +freedom in the treatment of the subject, the final end was not lost +sight of. Schiller always held with firmness the thread which was +bound to lead thither, and, if the conversation was not interrupted by +any mishap, he was not prone to bring it to a close until he had +reached the goal. + +And as Schiller in his conversation always aimed to add new ground to +the domain of thought, so, in general, it may be said that his +intellectual activity was always characterized by an intense +spontaneity. His letters demonstrate these traits very perceptibly, +and he knew absolutely no other method of working. + +He gave himself up to mere reading late in the evening only, and +during his frequently sleepless nights. His days were occupied with +various labors or with specific preparatory studies in connection +with them, his intellect being thus kept at high tension by work and +research. + +Mere studying undertaken with no immediate end in view save that of +acquiring knowledge, and which has such a fascination for those who +are familiar with it that they must be constantly on their guard lest +it cause them to neglect other more definite duties--such studying, I +say, he knew nothing about from experience, nor did he esteem it at +its proper value. Knowledge seemed to him too material, and the forces +of the intellect too noble, for him to see in this material anything +more than mere stuff to be worked up. It was only because he placed +more value upon the higher activity of the intellect, which creates +independently out of its own depths, that he had so little sympathy +with its efforts of a lower order. It is indeed remarkable from what a +small stock of material and how, in spite of wanting the means by +which such material is procured by others, Schiller obtained his +comprehensive theory of life (_Weltanschauung_), which, when once +grasped, fairly startles us by the intuitive truthfulness of genius; +for one can give no other name to that which originates without +outside aid. + +Even in Germany he had traveled only in certain districts, while +Switzerland, of which his _William Tell_ contains such vivid +descriptions, he had never seen. Any one who has ever stood by the +Falls of the Rhine will involuntarily recall, at the sight, the +beautiful strophe in _The Diver_ in which this confusing tumult of +waters, that so captivates the eye, is depicted; and yet no personal +view of these rapids had served as the basis for Schiller's +description. + +But whatever Schiller did acquire from his own experience he grasped +with a clearness which also brought distinctly before him what he +learned from the description of others. Besides, he never neglected to +prepare himself for every subject by exhaustive reading. Anything that +might prove to be of use, even if discovered accidentally, fixed +itself firmly in his memory; and his tirelessly-working imagination, +which, with constant liveliness, elaborated now this now that part of +the material collected from every source, filled out the deficiencies +of such second-hand information. + +In a manner quite similar he made the spirit of Greek poetry his own, +although his knowledge of it was gained exclusively from translations. +In this connection he spared himself no pains. He preferred +translations which disclaimed any particular merit in themselves, and +his highest consideration was for the literal classical paraphrases. + +* * * _The Cranes of Ibycus_ and the _Festival of Victory_ wear the +colors of antiquity with all the purity and fidelity which could be +expected from a modern poet, and they wear them in the most beautiful +and most spirited manner. The poet, in these works, has quite absorbed +the spirit of the ancient world; he moves about in it with freedom, +and thus creates a new form of poetry which, in all its parts, +breathes only such a spirit. The two poems, however, are in striking +contrast with each other. _The Cranes of Ibycus_ permitted a +thoroughly epic development; what made the subject of intrinsic value +to the poet was the idea which sprung from it of the power of artistic +representation upon the human soul. This power of poetry, of an +invisible force created purely by the intellect and vanishing away +when brought into contact with reality, belonged essentially to the +sphere of ideas which occupied Schiller so intensely. + +As many as eight years before the time when this subject assumed the +ballad form within his mind it had floated before his vision, as is +evident in the lines which are taken from his poem _The Artists_-- + + "Awed by the Furies' chorus dread + Murder draws down upon its head + The doom of death from their wild song." + +This idea, moreover, permitted an exposition in complete harmony with +the spirit of antiquity; the latter had all the requisites for +bringing it into bold relief in all its purity and strength. +Consequently, every particular in the whole narrative is borrowed +immediately from the ancient world, especially the appearance and the +song of Eumenides. The chorus as employed by Æschylus is so +artistically interwoven with the modern poetic form, both in the +matter of rhyme and the length of the metre, that no portion of its +quiet grandeur is lost. + +_The Festival of Victory_ is of a lyric, of a contemplative nature. In +this work the poet was able--indeed was compelled--to lend from his +own store an element which did not lie within the sphere of ideas and +the sentiments of antiquity; but everything else follows the spirit of +the Homeric poem with as great purity as it does in the _Cranes of +Ibycus_. The poem as a whole is clearly stamped with a higher, more +distinct, spirituality than is usual with the ancient singers; and it +is in this particular that it manifests its most conspicuous beauties. + +The earlier poems of Schiller are also rich in particular traits +borrowed from the poems of the ancients, and into them he has often +introduced a higher significance than is found in the original. Let me +refer in this connection to his description of death from _The +Artists_--"The gentle bow of necessity"--which so beautifully recalls +the _gentle darts_ of Homer, where, however, the transfer of the +adjective from _darts_ to _bow_ gives to the thought a more tender and +a deeper significance. + +Confidence in the intellectual power of man heightened to poetic form +is expressed in the distichs entitled _Columbus_, which are among the +most peculiar poetic productions that Schiller has given us. Belief in +the invisible force inherent in man, in the opinion, which is sublime +and deeply true, that there must be an inward mystic harmony between +it and the force which orders and governs the entire universe (for all +truth can only be a reflection of the eternal primal Truth), was a +characteristic feature of Schiller's way of thinking. It harmonized +also with the persistence with which he followed up every intellectual +task until it was satisfactorily completed. We see the same thought +expressed in the same kind of metaphor in the bold but beautiful +expression which occurs in the letters from Raphael to Julius in the +magazine, _The Thalia_-- + +"When Columbus made the risky wager with an untraveled sea." * * * + +[Illustration: #UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN# With the statues of Wilhelm and +Alexander von Humboldt] + +Art and poetry were directly joined to what was most noble in man; +they were represented to be the medium by means of which he first +awakens to the consciousness of that nature, reaching out beyond the +finite, which dwells within him. Both of them were thus placed upon +the height from which they really originate. To safeguard them upon +this height, to save them from being desecrated by every paltry and +belittling view, to rescue them from every sentiment which did not +spring from their purity, was really Schiller's aim, and appeared to +him as his true life-mission determined for him by the original +tendency of his nature. + +His first and most urgent demands are, therefore, addressed to the +poet himself, from whom he requires not merely genius and talent +isolated, as it were, in their activity, but a mood which takes +possession of the entire soul and is in harmony with the sublimity of +his vocation; it must be not a mere momentary exaltation, but an +integral part of character. "Before he undertakes to influence the +best among his contemporaries he should make it his first and most +important business to elevate his own self to the purest and noblest +ideal of humanity." * * * To no one does Schiller apply this demand +more rigorously than to himself. + +Of him it can truthfully be said that matters which bordered upon the +common or even upon the ordinary, never had the slightest hold upon +him; that he transferred completely the high and noble views which +filled his thoughts to his mode of feeling and his life; and that in +his compositions he was ever, with uniform force, inspired with a +striving for the ideal. This was true even of his minor productions. + +To assign to poetry, among human endeavors, the lofty and serious +place of which I have spoken above, to defend it from the petty point +of view of those who, mistaking its dignity, and the pedantic attitude +of those who, mistaking its peculiar character, regard it only as a +trifling adornment and embellishment of life or else ask an immediate +moral effect and teaching from it--this, as one cannot repeat too +often, is deeply rooted in the German habit of thought and feeling. +Schiller in his poetry gave utterance--in his own individual manner, +however--to whatever his German nature had implanted in him, to the +harmony which rang out to him from the depths of the language, the +mysterious effect of which he so cleverly perceived and knew how to +use so masterfully. * * * + +The deeper and truer trend of the German resides in his highly +developed sensibility which keeps him closer to the truths of nature, +in his inclination to live in the world of ideas and of emotions +dependent upon them, and, in fact, in everything which is connected +therewith. * * * + +A favorite idea which often engaged Schiller's attention was the need +of educating the crude natural man--as he understood him--through art, +before he could be left to attain culture through reason. Schiller has +enlarged upon this theme on many occasions, both in prose and verse. +His imagination dwelt by preference upon the beginnings of +civilization in general, upon the transition from the nomadic life to +the agricultural, upon the covenant established in naïve faith with +pious Mother Earth, as he so beautifully expresses it. + +Whatever mythology offered here as kindred material, he grasped with +eagerness and firmness. Faithfully following the traces of fable, he +made of Demeter, the chief personage in the group of agricultural +deities, a figure as wonderful as it was appealing, by uniting in her +breast human feelings with divine. It was long a cherished plan with +Schiller to treat in epic form the earliest Attic civilization +resulting from foreign immigration. _The Eleusinian Festival_, +however, replaced this plan, which was never executed. * * * + +The merely emotional, the fervid, the simply descriptive, in fact +every variety of poetry derived directly from contemplation and +feeling, are found in Schiller in countless single passages and in +whole poems. * * * But the most remarkable evidence of the consummate +genius of the poet is seen in _The Song of the Bell_, which, in +changing metre, in descriptions full of vivacity where a few touches +represent a whole picture, runs through the varied experiences in the +life of man and of society; for it expresses the feelings which arise +in each of them, and ever adapts the whole, symbolically, to the tones +of the bell, the casting and completing of which the poem accompanies +throughout in all its various stages. I know of no poem, in any +language, which shows so wide a poetic world in so small a compass, +that so runs through the scale of all that is deepest in human +feelings, and, in the guise of a lyric, depicts life in its important +events and epochs as if in an epic poem confined within natural +limits. But the poetic clearness is enhanced by the fact that a +subject which is portrayed as actually existing, corresponds with the +shadowy visions of the imagination; and the two series thus formed run +parallel with each other to the same end. * * * + +Schiller was snatched from the world in the full maturity of his +intellectual power, though he would undoubtedly have been able to +perform an endless amount of additional work. His scope was so +unlimited that he would never have been able to find a goal, and the +constantly increasing activity of his mind would never have allowed +him time for stopping. For long years ahead he would have been able to +enjoy the happiness, the rapture, yes, the bliss of his occupation as +a poet, as he so inimitably describes it in one of the letters in this +collection, written about a plan for an idyl. His life ended indeed +before the customary limit had been reached, yet, while it lasted, he +worked exclusively and uninterruptedly in the realm of ideas and +fancy. + +Of no one else, perhaps, can it be said so truthfully that "he had +thrown away the fear of that which was earthly and had escaped out of +the narrow gloomy life into the realm of the ideal." And it may be +observed, in closing, that he had lived surrounded only by the most +exalted ideas and the most brilliant visions which it is possible for +a mortal to appropriate and to create. One who thus departs from earth +cannot be regarded as otherwise than happy. + + + + +THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL + +By JAMES TAFT HATFIELD, PH.D. + +Professor of the German Language and Literature, Northwestern +University. + +The latter half of the eighteenth century has been styled the Age of +Enlightenment, a convenient name for a period in which there was a +noticeable attempt to face the obvious, external facts of life in a +clear-eyed and courageous way. The centralizing of political power in +the hands of Louis XIV. of France and his successors had been +accompanied by a "standardizing" of human affairs which favored +practical efficiency and the easier running of the social machine, but +which was far from helpful to the self-expression of distinctly-marked +individuals. + +The French became sovereign arbiters of taste and form, but their +canons of art were far from nature and the free impulses of mankind. +The particular development of this spirit of clarity in Berlin, the +centre of German influence, lay in the tendency to challenge all +historic continuity, and to seek uniformity based upon practical +needs. + +Rousseau's revolutionary protests against inequality and +artificiality--particularly his startling treatise _On the Origin and +Foundations of Inequality among Men_ (1754)--and his fervent preaching +of the everlasting superiority of the heart to the head, constitute +the most important factor in a great revolt against regulated social +institutions, which led, at length, to the "Storm and Stress" movement +in Germany, that boisterous forerunner of Romanticism, yet so unlike +it that even Schlegel compared its most typical representatives to the +biblical herd of swine which stampeded--into oblivion. Herder, +proclaiming the vital connection between the soul of a whole nation +and its literature, and preaching a religion of the feelings rather +than a gospel of "enlightenment;" young Goethe, by his daring and +untrammeled Shakespearian play, _Goetz von Berlichingen_, and by his +open defiance, announced in _Werther_, of the authority of all +artistic rules and standards; and Bürger, asserting the right of the +common man to be the only arbiter of literary values, were, each in +his own way, upsetting the control of an artificial "classicism." +Immanuel Kant, whose deep and dynamic thinking led to a revolution +comparable to a cosmic upheaval in the geological world, compelled his +generation to discover a vast new moral system utterly disconcerting +to the shallow complacency of those who had no sense of higher values +than "practical efficiency." + +When, in 1794, Goethe and Schiller, now matured and fully seasoned by +a deep-going classical and philosophical discipline, joined their +splendid forces and devoted their highest powers to the building up of +a comprehensive esthetic philosophy, the era was fully come for new +constructive efforts on German soil. Incalculably potent was the +ferment liberated by Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_ (1795-1796)--its +attacking the problem of life from the emotional and esthetic side; +its defense of the "call" of the individual as outweighing the whole +social code; its assertion that genius outranks general laws, and +imagination every-day rules; its abundance of "poetic" figures taking +their part in the romance. + +The birth of the Romantic School can be pretty definitely set at about +1796; its cradle was in the quaint university town of Jena, at that +time the home of Schiller and his literary-esthetic enterprises, and +only a few miles away from Goethe in Weimar. Five names embody about +all that was most significant in the earlier movement: Fichte, the +brothers Friedrich and Wilhelm Schlegel, Tieck, and Novalis. + +The discussion of Fichte belonging to another division of this work, +it is enough to recall here that he was already professor of +philosophy at Jena when the Schlegel brothers made their home there +in 1796, and that it was while there that he published his _Doctrine +of Science_, the charter of independence of the Romantic School, +announcing the annihilation of physical values, proclaiming the soul +as above things perceived, the inner spirit as that alembic in which +all objects are produced. With almost insolent freshness Fichte +asserted a re-valuation of all values: what had been "enlightenment" +was now to be called shallowness; "ancient crudities" were to be +reverenced as deeper perceptions of truth; "fine literature" was to be +accounted a frivolous thing. Fichte made a stirring appeal to young +men, especially, as being alone able to perceive the meaning of +science and poetry. + +To take part in the contagion of these ideas, there settled in Jena in +1796 the two phenomenal Schlegel brothers. It is not easy or necessary +to separate, at this period, the activities of their agile minds. From +their early days, as sons in a most respectable Lutheran parsonage in +North Germany, both had shown enormous hunger for cultural +information, both had been voracious in exploiting the great libraries +within their reach. It is generally asserted that they were lacking in +essential virility and stamina; as to the brilliancy of their +acquisitions, their fineness of appreciation, and their wit, there can +be no question whatever. Madame de Staël called them "the fathers of +modern criticism," a title which has not been challenged by the best +authorities of our time. + +Friedrich von Schlegel (1772-1829), the younger of the two, is counted +to be the keener and more original mind. He had a restless and +unsettled youth, mostly spent in studies; after various +disappointments, he determined to make classical antiquity his +life-work; while mastering the body of ancient literature, he was +assimilating, with much the same sort of eagerness, the philosophical +systems of Kant and Fichte. His first notable publication was an +esthetic-philosophic essay, in the ample style of Schiller's later +discourses, _Concerning the Study of Greek Poetry_. He found in the +Greeks of the age of Sophocles the ideal of a fully developed +humanity, and exhibited throughout the discussion a remarkable mastery +of the whole field of classical literature. Just at this time he +removed to Jena to join his older brother, Wilhelm, who was connected +with Schiller's monthly _The Hours_ and his annual _Almanac of the +Muses_. By a strange condition of things Friedrich was actively +engaged at the moment in writing polemic reviews for the organs of +Reichardt, one of Schiller's most annoying rivals in literary +journalism; these reviews became at once noticeable for their depth +and vigorous originality, particularly that one which gave a new and +vital characterization of Lessing. In 1797 he moved to Berlin, where +he gathered a group about him, including Tieck, and in this way +established the external and visible body of the Romantic School, +which the brilliant intellectual atmosphere of the Berlin salons, with +their wealth of gifted and cultured women, did much to promote. In +1799 both he and Tieck joined the Romantic circle at Jena. + +In Berlin he published in 1798 the first volume of the _Athenæum_, +that journal which in a unique way represents the pure Romantic ideal +at its actual fountain-head. It survived for three years, the last +volume appearing in 1800. Its aim was to "collect all rays of human +culture into one focus," and, more particularly, to confute the claim +of the party of "enlightenment" that the earlier ages of human +development were poor and unworthy of respect on the part of the +closing eighteenth century. A very large part of the journal was +written by the two brothers, Friedrich furnishing the most aggressive +contributions, more notably being responsible for the epigrammatic +_Fragments_, which became, in their, detached brevity and +irresponsibility, a very favorite model for the form of Romantic +doctrine. "I can talk daggers," he had said when younger, and he wrote +the greater part of these, though some were contributed by Wilhelm +Schlegel, by his admirable wife Caroline, by Schleiermacher, and +Novalis. The root of this form lies in French thinking and +expression--especially the short deliverances of Chamfort, the +epigrammatist of the French Revolution. These Orphic-apocalyptic +sentences are a sort of foundation for a new Romantic bible. They are +absolutely disconnected, they show a mixture and interpenetration of +different spheres of thought and observation, with an unexpected +deference to the appraisals of classic antiquity. Their range is +unlimited: philosophy and psychology, mathematics and esthetics, +philosophy and natural science, sociology and society, literature and +the theatre are all largely represented in their scope. + +Friedrich Schlegel's epigrammatic wit is the direct precursor of +Heine's clever conceits in prose: one is instantly reminded of him by +such _Athenæum_-fragments as "Kant, the Copernicus of Philosophy;" +"Plato's philosophy is a worthy preface to the religion of the +future;" "So-called 'happy marriages' are related to love, as a +correct poem to an improvised song;" "In genuine prose all words +should be printed in italics;" "Catholicism is naïve Christianity; +Protestantism is sentimental." The sheer whimsicality of phrase seems +to be at times its own excuse for being, as in an explanation of +certain elegiac poems as "the sensation of misery in the contemplation +of the silliness of the relations of banality to craziness;" but there +are many sentences which go deep below the surface--none better +remembered, perhaps, than the dictum, "The French Revolution, Fichte's +_Doctrine of Science_, and Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_ are the greatest +symptoms of our age." + +In the _Athenæum_ both brothers give splendid testimony to their +astonishing and epoch-making gift in transferring classical and +Romance metrical forms into elegant, idiomatic German; they give +affectionate attention to the insinuating beauty of elegiac verse, and +secure charming effects in some of the most alien Greek forms, not to +mention _terza rima, ottava rima_, the Spanish gloss, and not a few +very notable sonnets. + +The literary criticisms of the _Athenæum_ are characteristically free +and aggressive, particularly in the frequent sneers at the flat +"homely" poetry of sandy North Germany. At the end of the second +volume, the "faked" _Literary Announcements_ are as daring as any +attempts of American newspaper humor. When the sum of the contents and +tendency of the journal is drawn, it is a strange mixture of +discriminating philosophy, devoted Christianity, Greek sensuousness, +and pornographic mysticism. There is a never-ending esthetic coquetry +with the flesh, with a serious defense of some very Greek practices +indeed. All of this is thoroughly typical of the spirit of the +Romantic school, and it is by no means surprising that Friedrich's +first book, the novel _Lucinda_ (1799), should stand as the supreme +unsavory classic in this field. That excellent divine, Schleiermacher, +exalted this document of the Rights of the Flesh as "a pæan of Love, +in all its completeness," but it is a feeble, tiresome performance, +absolutely without structure, quite deserving the saucy epigram on +which it was pilloried by the wit of the time: + + Pedantry once of Fancy begged the dole + Of one brief kiss; she pointed him to Shame. + He, impotent and wanton, then Shame's favors stole. + Into the world at length a dead babe came-- + "_Lucinda_" was its name. + +The preaching of "religion," "womanliness," and the "holy fire of +divine enjoyment" makes an unedifying _mélange_: "The holiest thing in +any human being is his own mind, his own power, his own will;" "You do +all according to your own mind, and refuse to be swayed by what is +usual and proper." Schleiermacher admired in it that "highest wisdom +and profoundest religion" which lead people to "yield to the rhythm of +fellowship and friendship, and to disturb no harmony of love." In more +prosaic diction, the upshot of its teaching was the surrender to +momentary feelings, quite divorced from Laws or Things. The only +morality is "full Humanity;" "Nature alone is worthy of honor, and +sound health alone is worthy of love;" "Let the discourse of love," +counsels Julius, "be bold and free, not more chastened than a Roman +elegy"--which is certainly not very much--and the skirmishes of +inclination are, in fact, set forth with an almost antique simplicity. +Society is to be developed only by "wit," which is seriously put into +comparison with God Almighty. As to practical ethics, one is told that +the most perfect life is but a pure vegetation; the right to indolence +is that which really makes the discrimination between choice and +common beings, and is the determining principle of nobility. "The +divine art of being indolent" and "the blissful bosom of +half-conscious self-forgetfulness" naturally lead to the thesis that +the empty, restless exertion of men in general is nothing but Gothic +perversity, and "boots naught but _ennui_ to ourselves and others." +Man is by nature "a serious beast; one must labor to counteract this +shameful tendency." Schleiermacher ventured, it is true, to raise the +question as to whether the hero ought not to have some trace of the +chivalrous about him, or ought not to do something effective in the +outer world--and posterity has fully supported this inquiry. + +Friedrich's next most important move was to Paris (1802), where he +gave lectures on philosophy, and attempted another journal. Here he +began his enthusiastic studies of the Sanskrit language and +literature, which proved to have an important influence on the +development of modern philology. This is eminently true of his work +_On the Language and Wisdom of the Indians_ (1808). In 1804 he removed +to Cologne, where he entered with great eagerness into the work of +re-discovering the medieval Lower Rhenish School of religious art and +Gothic architecture. In 1808 he, with his wife Dorothea (the daughter +of Moses Mendelssohn, who years before this time had left her home and +family to become his partner for life), entered the Roman Catholic +church, the interests of which engaged much of his energies for the +remainder of his life. + +[Illustration: #A HERMIT WATERING HORSES# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +He lived most of the time in Vienna, partly engaged in the literary +service of the Austrian government, partly in lecturing on history and +literature. He died in 1829 in Dresden, whither he had gone to deliver +a course of lectures. + +Friedrich Schlegel's philosophy of life was based upon the theory of +supremacy of the artist, the potency of poetry, with its incidental +corollaries of disregard for the Kantian ideal of Duty, and aversion +to all Puritanism and Protestantism. "There is no great world but that +of artists," he declared in the _Athenæum_; "artists form a higher +caste; they should separate themselves, even in their way of living, +from other people." Poetry and philosophy formed in his thought an +inseparable unit, forever joined, "though seldom together--like Castor +and Pollux." His interest is in "Humanity," that is to say, a superior +type of the species, with a corresponding contempt for "commonness," +especially for the common man as a mere machine of "duty." On +performances he set no great store: "Those countenances are most +interesting to me in which Nature seems to have indicated a great +design without taking time to carry it out." + +August Wilhelm von Schlegel (1767-1845), more simply known as +"Wilhelm," was the more balanced, dignified, and serene nature, and +possessed in a far higher degree than Friedrich the art of steering +his course smoothly through life. Of very great significance in his +training were his university years at Göttingen, and his acquaintance +there with the poet Bürger, that early apostle of revolt from a formal +literature, whose own life had become more and more discredited and +was destined to go out in wretchedness and ignominy; the latter's +fecundating activities had never been allowed full scope, but +something of his spirit of adventure into new literary fields was +doubtless caught by the younger man. Bürger's attempts at naturalizing +the sonnet, for instance, are interesting in view of the fact that +Wilhelm Schlegel became the actual creator of this literary form among +the Germans. Schlegel's own pursuits as a student were prevailingly +in the field of Hellenism, in which his acquisitions were astounding; +his influence was especially potent in giving a philological character +to much of the work of the Romanticists. In Göttingen he became +acquainted with one of the most gifted women which Germany has ever +produced, Caroline, the daughter of the Göttingen professor Michaelis, +at the time a young widow in the home of her father, and destined to +become not only his wife, but the Muse of much of his most important +work. This office she performed until the time of their unfortunate +separation. + +After finishing his university studies, Wilhelm was for a while +private tutor in a wealthy family at Amsterdam, where conditions of +living were most agreeable, but where a suitable stimulus to the +inborn life of his mind was lacking. He accordingly gave up this +position and returned, with little but hopes, to Germany. Then came a +call which was both congenial and honorable. Schiller's attention had +been drawn, years before, to a review of his own profound +philosophical poem, _The Artists_, by an unknown young man, whom he at +once sought to secure as a regular contributor to his literary +journal, _The New Thalia_. Nothing came of this, chiefly because of +Schlegel's intimate relations to Bürger at the time. Schiller had +published, not long before, his annihilatory review of Bürger's poems, +which did so much to put that poet out of serious consideration for +the remainder of his days. In the meantime Schiller had addressed +himself to his crowning enterprise, the establishing of a literary +journal which should be the final dictator of taste and literary +criticism throughout the German-speaking world. In 1794 the plan for +_The Hours_ was realized under favorable auspices, and in the same +year occurred the death of Bürger. In 1796 Schiller invited Wilhelm to +become one of the regular staff of _The Hours_, and this invitation +Schlegel accepted, finding in it the opportunity to marry Caroline, +with whom he settled in Jena in July of that year. His first +contribution to _The Hours_ was a masterful and extended treatise on +_Dante_, which was accompanied by translations which were clearly the +most distinguished in that field which the German language had ever +been able to offer. Schlegel also furnished elaborated poems, somewhat +in Schiller's grand style, for the latter's _Almanac of the Muses_. +During the years of his residence at Jena (which continued until 1801) +Schlegel, with the incalculable assistance of his wife, published the +first eight volumes of those renderings of Shakespeare's plays into +German which doubtless stand at the very summit of the art of +transferring a poet to an alien region, and which have, in actual +fact, served to make the Bard of Avon as truly a fellow-citizen of the +Germans as of the Britons. Wilhelm's brother Friedrich had remained +but a year with him in Jena, before his removal to Berlin and his +establishment of the _Athenæum_. Although separated from his brother, +Wilhelm's part in the conduct of the journal was almost as important +as Friedrich's, and, in effect, they conducted the whole significant +enterprise out of their own resources. The opening essay, _The +Languages_, is Wilhelm's, and properly, for at this time he was by far +the better versed in philological and literary matters. His cultural +acquisitions, his tremendous spoils of reading, were greater, and his +judgment more trustworthy. In all his work in the _Athenæum_ he +presents a seasoned, many-sided sense of all poetical, phonetic and +musical values: rhythm, color, tone, the lightest breath and aroma of +an elusive work of art. One feels that Wilhelm overhauls the whole +business of criticism, and clears the field for coming literary +ideals. Especially telling is his demolition of Klopstock's violent +"Northernism," to which he opposes a far wider philosophy of grammar +and style. The universality of poetry, as contrasted with a narrow +"German" clumsiness, is blandly defended, and a joyous abandon is +urged as something better than the meticulous anxiety of chauvinistic +partisanism. In all his many criticisms of literature there are charm, +wit, and elegance, an individuality and freedom in the reviewer, who, +if less penetrating than his brother, displays a far more genial +breadth and humanity, and more secure composure. His translations, +more masterly than those of Friedrich, carry out Herder's demand for +complete absorption and re-creation. + +In 1801 Schlegel went to Berlin, where for three successive winters he +lectured on art and literature. His subsequent translations of +Calderon's plays (1803-1809) and of Romance lyrics served to +naturalize a large treasure of southern poetry upon German soil. In +1804, after having separated from his wife, he became attached to the +household of Madame de Staël, and traversed Europe with her. It is +through this association that she was enabled to write her brilliant +work, _On Germany_. In 1808 he delivered a series of lectures on +dramatic art and literature in Vienna, which enjoyed enormous +popularity, and are still reckoned the crowning achievement of his +career; perhaps the most significant of these is his discourse on +Shakespeare. In the first volume of the _Athenæum_, Shakespeare's +universality had already been regarded as "the central point of +romantic art." As Romanticist, it was Schlegel's office to portray the +independent development of the modern English stage, and to defend +Shakespeare against the familiar accusations of barbaric crudity and +formlessness. In surveying the field, it was likewise incumbent upon +him to demonstrate in what respects the classic drama differed from +the independently developed modern play, and his still useful +generalization regards antique art as limited, clear, simple, and +perfected--as typified by a work of sculpture; whereas romantic art +delights in mingling its subjects--as a painting, which embraces many +objects and looks out into the widest vistas. Apart from the clarity +and smoothness of these Vienna discourses, their lasting merit lies in +their searching observation of the import of dramatic works from their +inner soul, and in a most discriminating sense of the relation of all +their parts to an organic whole. + +In 1818 Schlegel accepted a professorship at the University of Bonn, +in which place he exercised an incalculable influence upon one of the +rising stars of German literature, young Heinrich Heine, who derived +from him (if we may judge from his own testimony at the time; Heine's +later mood is a very different matter) an inspiration amounting to +captivation. The brilliant young student discovered here a stimulating +leader whose wit, finish, and elegance responded in full measure to +the hitherto unsatisfied cravings of his own nature. Although Heine +had become a very altered person at the time of writing his _Romantic +School_ (1836), this book throws a scintillating illumination upon +certain sides of Schlegel's temperament, and offers a vivid impression +of his living personality. + +In these last decades of his life Schlegel turned, as had his younger +brother, to the inviting field of Sanskrit literature and philology, +and extracted large and important treasures which may still be +reckoned among mankind's valued resources. When all discount has been +made on the side of a lack of specific gravity in Wilhelm Schlegel's +character, it is only just to assert that throughout his long and +prolific life he wrought with incalculable effect upon the +civilization of modern Europe as a humanizer of the first importance. + +Ludwig Tieck (1773-1853) is reckoned by many students of the Romantic +period to be the best and most lasting precipitate which the entire +movement has to show. For full sixty years a most prolific writer, and +occupied in the main with purely literary production, it is not +strange that he came to be regarded as the poetic mouthpiece of the +school. + +His birth was in a middle-class family of Berlin. A full university +training at Halle, Göttingen and Erlangen was accorded him, during +which he cannot be said to have distinguished himself by any triumph +in the field of formal studies, but in the course of which he +assimilated at first hand the chief modern languages of culture, +without any professional guidance. At an early stage in his growth he +discovered and fed full upon Shakespeare. As a university student he +also fell in love with the homely lore of German folk-poetry. In 1794 +he came back to Berlin, and turned to rather banal hack-writing for +the publisher Nicolai, chief of all exponents of rationalism. +Significant was his early rehabilitation of popular folk-tales and +chapbooks, as in _The Wonderful Love-Story of Beautiful Magelone and +Count Peter of Provence_ (1797). The stuff was that of one of the +prose chivalry-stories of the middle ages, full of marvels, seeking +the remote among strange hazards by land and sea. The tone of Tieck's +narrative is childlike and naïve, with rainbow-glows of the bliss of +romantic love, glimpses of the poetry and symbolism of Catholic +tradition, and a somewhat sugary admixture of the spirit of the +_Minnelied_, with plenty of refined and delicate sensuousness. With +the postulate that song is the true language of life, the story is +sprinkled with lyrics at every turn. The whole adventure is into the +realm of dreams and vague sensations. + +Tieck must have been liberally baptized with Spree-water, for the +instantaneous, corrosive Berlin wit was a large part of his endowment. +His cool irony associated him more closely to the Schlegels than to +Novalis, with his life-and-death consecrations. His absurd +play-within-a-play, _Puss in Boots_ (1797), is delicious in its +bizarre ragout of satirical extravaganzas, where the naïve and the +ironic lie side by side, and where the pompous seriousness of certain +complacent standards is neatly excoriated. + +Such publications as the two mentioned were hailed with rejoicing by +the Schlegels, who at once adopted Tieck as a natural ally. Even more +after their own hearts was the long novel, _Franz Sternbald's +Wanderings_ (1798), a vibrant confession, somewhat influenced by +_Wilhelm Meister_, of the Religion of Art (or the Art of Religion): +"Devout worship is the highest and purest joy in Art, a joy of which +our natures are capable only in their purest and most exalted +hours." + +[Illustration: #A WANDERER LOOKS INTO A LANDSCAPE# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +Sternbald, a pupil of Albrecht Dürer, makes a roving journey to the +Low Countries, the Rhine, and Italy, in order to deepen his artistic +nature. The psychology of the novel is by no means always true to the +spirit of the sixteenth century; in fact a good part of the story +reflects aristocratic French chateau-life in the eighteenth century. +The intensities of romantic friendship give a sustained thrill, and +the style is rhythmic, though the action is continually interrupted by +episodes, lyrics, and discourses. In the unworldliness, the delicacy +of sensibility, and the somewhat vague outlines of the story one may +be reminded, at times, of _The Marble Faun_. Its defense of German +Art, as compared with that of the Italian Renaissance, is its chief +message. + +This novel has been dwelt upon because of its direct influence upon +German painting and religion. A new verb, "_sternbaldisieren_," was +coined to parody a new movement in German art toward the medieval, +religious spirit. It is this book which Heine had in mind when he +ridiculed Tieck's "silly plunge into medieval naïveté." Overbeck and +Cornelius in Rome, with their pre-Raphaelite, old-German and +catholicizing tendencies, became the leaders of a productive school. +Goethe scourged it for its "mystic-religious" aspirations, and +demanded a more vigorous, cheerful and progressive outlook for German +painting. + +Having already formed a personal acquaintance with Friedrich Schlegel +in Berlin, Tieck moved to Jena in 1799, came into very close relations +with Fichte, the Schlegels, and Novalis, and continued to produce +works in the spirit of the group, notably the tragedy _Life and Death +of Saint Genoveva_ (1800). His most splendid literary feat at this +period, however, was the translation of _Don Quixote_ (1799-1801), a +triumph over just those subtle difficulties which are well-nigh +insurmountable, a rendering which went far beyond any mere literalness +of text, and reproduced the very tone and aura of its original. + +In 1803 he published a graceful little volume of typical +_Minnelieder_, renewed from the middle high-German period. The note of +the book (in which Runge's copperplate outlines are perhaps as +significant as the poems) is spiritualized sex-love: the utterance of +its fragrance and delicacy, its unique place in the universe as a +pathway to the Divine--a point of view to which the modern mind is +prone to take some exceptions, considering a religion of erotics +hardly firm enough ground to support an entire philosophy of living. +All the motives of the old court-lyric are well represented--the +torments and rewards of love, the charm of spring, the refinements of +courtly breeding--and the sophisticated metrical forms are handled +with great virtuosity. Schiller, it is true, compared them to the +chatter of sparrows, and Goethe also paid his compliments to the +"sing-song of the Minnesingers," but it was this same little book +which first gave young Jakob Grimm the wish to become acquainted with +these poets in their original form. + +That eminently "Romantic" play, _Emperor Octavian_ (1804), derived +from a familiar medieval chap-book, lyric in tone and loose in form, +is a pure epitome of the movement, and the high-water mark of Tieck's +apostleship and service. Here Tieck shows his intimate sense of the +poetry of inanimate nature; ironic mockery surrenders completely to +religious devotion; the piece is bathed in-- + + The light that never was on sea or land, + The consecration and the poet's dream. + +It is in the prologue to this play that personified Romance declares +her descent from Faith, her father, and Love, her mother, and +introduces the action by the command: + + "Moonshine-lighted magic night + Holding every sense in thrall; + World, which wondrous tales recall, + Rise, in ancient splendors bright!" + +During a year's residence in Italy Tieck applied himself chiefly to +reading old-German manuscripts, in the Library of the Vatican, and +wavered upon the edge of a decision to devote himself to Germanic +philology. + +[Illustration: #A CHAPEL IN THE FOREST# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +The loss to science is not serious, for Tieck hardly possessed the +grasp and security which could have made him a peer of the great +pioneers in this field. From the time of his leaving for Italy, +Tieck's importance for the development of Romanticism becomes +comparatively negligible. + +After a roving existence of years, during which he lived in Vienna, +Munich, Prague and London, he made a settled home in Dresden. Here he +had an enviable place in the very considerable literary and artistic +group, and led an existence of almost suspiciously "reasonable" +well-being, from a Romantic view-point. The "dramatic evenings" at his +home, in which he read plays aloud before a brilliant gathering, were +a feature of social life. For seventeen years he had an influential +position as "dramaturg" of the Royal Theatre, it being his duty to +pass on plays to be performed and to decide upon suitable actors for +the parts. + +During his long residence in Dresden Tieck produced a very large +number of short stories (_Novellen_) which had a decided vogue, though +they differ widely from his earlier writings in dealing with real, +contemporary life. + +It is pleasant to record that the evening of Tieck's long life was +made secure from anxieties by a call to Berlin from Friedrich Wilhelm +IV., the "Romantic king." His last eleven years were spent there in +quiet and peace, disturbed only by having to give dramatic readings +before a self-sufficient court circle which was imperfectly equipped +for appreciating the merits of Tieck's performances. + +The early Romantic movement found its purest expression in the person +and writings of Friedrich von Hardenberg, better known under his +assumed literary name Novalis (1772-1801). Both his father, Baron von +Hardenberg (chief director of the Saxon salt-works), and his mother +belonged to the Moravians, that devoted group of mystical pietists +whose sincere consecration to the things of the spirit has achieved a +deathless place in the annals of the religious history of the +eighteenth century, and, more particularly, determined the beginnings +and the essential character of the world-wide Methodist movement. His +gentle life presents very little of dramatic incident: he was a +reserved, somewhat unsocial boy, greatly devoted to study and to the +reading of poetry. He was given a most thorough education, and, while +completing his university career, became acquainted with Friedrich +Schlegel, and remained his most intimate friend. He also came to know +Fichte, and eagerly absorbed his _Doctrine of Science_. A little later +he came into close relations with Wilhelm Schlegel and Tieck in Jena. +He experienced a seraphic love for a delicate girl of thirteen, whose +passing away at the age of fifteen served to transport the youth's +interests almost exclusively to the invisible world: "Life is a +sickness of the spirit, a passionate Doing." His chief conversation +lay in solitude, in seeking for a mystic inner solution of the secrets +of external nature. He loved to discourse on these unseen realms, and +to create an ideal connection between them all. The testimony of his +friend Tieck, who in company with Friedrich Schlegel edited his works +in a spirit of almost religious piety, runs: "The common life +environed him like some tale of fiction, and that realm which most men +conceive as something far and incomprehensible was the very Home of +his Soul." He was not quite twenty-nine years old at the time of his +peaceful death, which plunged the circle of his Romantic friends into +deepest grief. + +The envelope of his spiritual nature was so tenuous that he seemed to +respond to all the subtler influences of the universe; a sensitive +chord attuned to poetic values, he appeared to exercise an almost +mediumistic refraction and revelation of matters which lie only in the +realm of the transcendental-- + + "Weaving about the commonplace of things + The golden haze of morning's blushing glow." + +In reading Novalis, it is hardly possible to discriminate between +discourse and dreaming; his passion was for remote, never-experienced +things-- + + "Ah, lonely stands, and merged in woe, + Who loves the past with fervent glow!" + +His homesickness for the invisible world became an almost sensuous +yearning for the joys of death. + +In the first volume of the _Athenæum_ (1798) a place of honor was +given to his group of apothegms, _Pollen_ (rather an unromantic +translation for "_Blüthenstaub_"); these were largely supplemented by +materials found after his death, and republished as _Fragments_. In +the last volume of the same journal (1800) appeared his _Hymns to +Night_. Practically all of his other published works are posthumous: +his unfinished novel, _Henry of Ofterdingen_; a set of religious +hymns; the beginnings of a "physical novel," _The Novices at Saïs_. + +Novalis's aphoristic "seed-thoughts" reveal Fichte's transcendental +idealistic philosophy as the fine-spun web of all his observations on +life. The external world is but a shadow; the universe is in us; +there, or nowhere, is infinity, with all its systems, past or future; +the world is but a precipitate of human nature. + +_The Novices at Saïs_, a mystical contemplation of nature reminding us +of the discourses of Jakob Böhme, has some suggestion of the +symbolistic lore of parts of Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_, and proves a +most racking riddle to the uninitiated. The penetration into the +meaning of the Veiled Image of Nature is attempted from the point of +view that all is symbolic: only poetic, intuitive souls may enter in; +the merely physical investigator is but searching through a +charnel-house. Nature, the countenance of Divinity, reveals herself to +the childlike spirit; to such she will, at her own good pleasure, +disclose herself spontaneously, though gradually. This seems to be the +inner meaning of the episodic tale, _Hyacinth and Rose-Blossom_. The +rhythmic prose _Hymns to Night_ exhale a delicate melancholy, moving +in a vague haze, and yet breathing a peace which comes from a +knowledge of the deeper meanings of things, divined rather than +experienced. Their stealing melody haunts the soul, however dazed the +mind may be with their vagueness, and their exaltation of death above +life. In his _Spiritual Poems_ we feel a simple, passionate intensity +of adoration, a yearning sympathy for the hopeless and the +heavy-laden; in their ardent assurance of love, peace, and rest, they +are surely to be reckoned among the most intimate documents in the +whole archives of the "varieties of religious experience." + +The unfinished novel _Henry of Ofterdingen_ reaches a depth of +obscurity which is saved from absurdity only by the genuinely fervent +glow of a soul on the quest for its mystic ideals: "The blue flower it +is that I yearn to look upon!" No farcical romance of the nursery +shows more truly the mingled stuff that dreams are made on, yet the +intimation that the dream is not all a dream, that the spirit of an +older day is symbolically struggling for some expression in words, +gave it in its day a serious importance at which our own age can +merely marvel. It brings no historical conviction; it is altogether +free from such conventional limits as Time and Space. Stripped of its +dreamy diction, there is even a tropical residue of sensuousness, to +which the English language is prone to give a plainer name. It +develops into a fantastic _mélange_ which no American mind can +possibly reckon with; what its effect would be upon a person relegated +to reading it in close confinement, it would not be safe to assert, +but it is quite certain that "this way madness lies." + +To generalize about the Romantic movement, may seem about as practical +as to attempt to make a trigonometrical survey of the Kingdom of +Dreams. No epoch in all literary history is so hopelessly entangled in +the meshes of subtle philosophical speculation, derived from the most +complex sources. To deal with the facts of classic art, which is +concerned with seeking a clearly-defined perfection, is a simple +matter compared with the unbounded and undefined concepts of a school +which waged war upon "the deadliness of ascertained facts" and +immersed itself in vague intimations of glories that were to be. Its +most authorized exponent declared it to be "the delineation of +sentimental matter in fantastic form." A more elaborated authoritative +definition is given in the first volume of the _Athenæum_: + +"Romantic poetry is a progressive universal-poetry. Its aim is not +merely to reunite all the dispersed classes of poetry, and to place +poetry in touch with philosophy and rhetoric; it aims and ought to aim +to mingle and combine poetry and prose, genius and criticism, artistic +and natural poetry; to make poetry lively and social, to make life and +society poetic; to poetize wit, to saturate all the forms of art with +worthy materials of culture and enliven them by the sallies of humor. +It embraces everything that is poetic, from the greatest and most +inclusive system of art, to the sigh, the kiss, that the poetic child +utters in artless song. Other classes of poetry are complete, and may +now be exhaustively dissected; romantic poetry is still in process of +becoming--in fact this is its chief characteristic, that it forever +can merely become, but never be completed. It can never be exhausted +by any theory, and only an intuitive criticism could dare to attempt +to characterize its ideals. It alone is endless, as it alone is free, +and asserts as its first law that the whim of the poet tolerates no +law above itself. Romantic poetry is the only sort which is more than +a class, and, as it were, the art of poetry itself." + +We may in part account for Romanticism by recalling that it was the +product of an age which was no longer in sympathy with its own tasks, +an age of political miseries and restrained powers, which turned away +from its own surroundings and sought to be free from all contact with +them, striving to benumb its sensations by an auto-intoxication of +dreams. + +Romanticism is built upon the imposing corner-stone of the unique +importance of the Individual: "To become God, to be man, to develop +one's own being, these are expressions for the same thing." As +personality is supreme, it is natural that there should follow a +contempt for the mediocrity of current majorities, standards and +opinions. It abhorred universal abstractions, as opposed to the truth +and meaning of individual phenomena. It stoutly believed in an +inexpugnable right to Illusions, and held clarity and earnestness to +be foes of human happiness. "The poem gained great applause, because +it had so strange, so well-nigh unintelligible a sound. It was like +music itself, and for that very reason attracted so irresistibly. +Although the hearers were awake, they were entertained _as though in a +dream_." + +Hence a purely lyric attitude toward life, which was apprehended only +on transcendent, musical valuations. Poetry was to be the heart and +centre of actual living; modern life seemed full of "prose and +pettiness" as compared with the Middle Ages; it was the doctrine of +this Mary in the family of Bethany to leave to the Martha of dull +externalists the care of many things, while she "chose the better +part" in contemplative lingering at the vision of what was essentially +higher. A palpitant imagination outranks "cold intelligence;" +sensation, divorced from all its bearings or functions, is its own +excuse for being. Of responsibility, hardly a misty trace; realities +are playthings and to be treated allegorically. + +The step was not a long one to the thesis that "disorder and confusion +are the pledge of true efficiency"--such being one of the +"seed-thoughts" of Novalis. In mixing all species, Romanticism amounts +to unchartered freedom, "_die gesunde, kräftige Ungezogenheit_." It is +no wonder that so many of its literary works remain unfinished +fragments, and that many of its exponents led unregulated lives. + +"Get you irony, and form yourself to urbanity" is the counsel of +Friedrich Schlegel. The unbridgeable chasm between Ideal and Life +could not be spanned, and the baffled idealist met this hopelessness +with the shrug of irony. The every-day enthusiasm of the common life +invited only a sneer, often, it is true, associated with flashing wit. + +Among its more pleasing manifestations, Romanticism shows a remarkable +group of gifted, capable women, possibly because this philosophy of +intuition corresponds to the higher intimations of woman's soul. Other +obvious fruits of the movement were the revival of the poetry and +dignity of the Middle Ages, both in art and life--that colorful, +form-loving musical era which the Age of Enlightenment had so crassly +despised. That this yearning for the beautiful background led to +reaction in politics and religion is natural enough; more edifying are +the rich fruits which scholarship recovered when Romanticism had +directed it into the domains of German antiquity and philology, and +the wealth of popular song. In addition to these, we must reckon the +spoils which these adventurers brought back from their quest into the +faery lands of Poetry in southern climes. + +When all is said, and in spite of Romanticism's weak and unmanly +quitting of the field of duty, in spite of certain tendencies to +ignore and supersede the adamant foundations of morality upon which +the "humanities" as well as society rest, one cannot quite help hoping +that somehow good may be the final hint of it all. Like Mary Stuart, +it is, at least, somewhat better than its worst repute, as formulated +by its enemies. Estimates change; even the excellent Wordsworth was +held by the English reviewers to be fantastic and vague in his _Ode to +Duty_. We should not forget that the most shocking pronouncements of +the Romanticists were uttered half-ironically, to say the least. After +its excursion into the fantastic jungle of Romanticism, the world has +found it restful and restorative, to be sure, to return to the limited +perfection of the serene and approved classics; yet perchance it _is_ +the last word of all philosophy that the astounding circumambient +Universe is almost entirely unperceived by our senses and reasoning +powers. + +Let us confess, and without apology, that the country which claims a +Hawthorne, a Poe, and a youthful Longfellow, can never surrender +unconditionally its hold upon the "True Romance:" + + "Through wantonness if men profess + They weary of Thy parts, + E'en let them die at blasphemy + And perish with their arts; + But we that love, but we that prove + Thine excellence august, + While we adore discover more + Thee perfect, wise, and just.... + + A veil to draw 'twixt God His Law + And Man's infirmity; + A shadow kind to dumb and blind + The shambles where we die; + A sum to trick th' arithmetic + Too base of leaguing odds; + The spur of trust, the curb of lust-- + Thou handmaid of the Gods!" + + + + +AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL + + * * * * * + +LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART[11] (1809) + +TRANSLATED BY JOHN BLACK + +LECTURE XXII + +Comparison of the English and Spanish Theatres--Spirit of the Romantic +Drama--Shakespeare--His age and the circumstances of his Life. + +In conformity with the plan which we laid down at the first, we shall +now proceed to treat of the English and Spanish theatres. We have +been, on various occasions, compelled in passing to allude cursorily, +sometimes to the one and sometimes to the other, partly for the sake +of placing, by means of contrast, many ideas in a clearer light, and +partly on account of the influence which these stages have had on the +theatres of other countries. Both the English and Spaniards possess a +very rich dramatic literature, both have had a number of prolific and +highly talented dramatists, among whom even the least admired and +celebrated, considered as a whole, display uncommon aptitude for +dramatic animation and insight into the essence of theatrical effect. +The history of their theatres has no connection with that of the +Italians and French, for they developed themselves wholly out of the +abundance of their own intrinsic energy, without any foreign +influence: the attempts to bring them back to an imitation of the +ancients, or even of the French, have either been attended with no +success, or not been made till a late period in the decay of the +drama. The formation of these two stages, again, is equally +independent of each other; the Spanish poets were altogether +unacquainted with the English; and in the older and most important +period of the English theatre I could discover no trace of any +knowledge of Spanish plays (though their novels and romances were +certainly known), and it was not till the time of Charles II. that +translations from Calderon first made their appearance. + +So many things among men have been handed down from century to century +and from nation to nation, and the human mind is in general so slow to +invent, that originality in any department of mental exertion is +everywhere a rare phenomenon. We are desirous of seeing the result of +the efforts of inventive geniuses when, regardless of what in the same +line has elsewhere been carried to a high degree of perfection, they +set to work in good earnest to invent altogether for themselves; when +they lay the foundation of the new edifice on uncovered ground, and +draw all the preparations, all the building materials, from their own +resources. We participate, in some measure, in the joy of success, +when we see them advance rapidly from their first helplessness and +need to a finished mastery in their art. The history of the Grecian +theatre would afford us this cheering prospect could we witness its +rudest beginnings, which were not preserved, for they were not even +committed to writing; but it is easy, when we compare Æschylus and +Sophocles, to form some idea of the preceding period. The Greeks +neither inherited nor borrowed their dramatic art from any other +people; it was original and native, and for that very reason was it +able to produce a living and powerful effect. But it ended with the +period when Greeks imitated Greeks; namely, when the Alexandrian poets +began learnedly and critically to compose dramas after the model of +the great tragic writers. The reverse of this was the case with the +Romans; they received the form and substance of their dramas from the +Greeks; they never attempted to act according to their own discretion, +or to express their own way of thinking; and hence they occupy so +insignificant a place in the history of dramatic art. Among the +nations of modern Europe, the English and Spaniards alone (for the +German stage is but forming) possess as yet a theatre entirely +original and national, which, in its own peculiar shape, has +arrived at maturity. + +[Illustration: #AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL#] + +Those critics who consider the authority of the ancients, as models, +to be such that in poetry, as in all the other arts, there can be no +safety out of the pale of imitation, affirm that, as the nations in +question have not followed this course, they have brought nothing but +irregular works on the stage, which, though they may possess +occasional passages of splendor and beauty, must yet, as a whole, be +forever reprobated as barbarous and wanting in form. We have already, +in the introductory part of these Lectures, stated our sentiments +generally on this way of thinking; but we must now examine the subject +somewhat more closely. + +If the assertion be well founded, all that distinguishes the works of +the greatest English and Spanish dramatists, a Shakespeare and a +Calderon, must rank them far below the ancients; they could in no wise +be of importance for theory, and would at most appear remarkable, on +the assumption that the obstinacy of these nations in refusing to +comply with the rules may have afforded a more ample field to the +poets to display their native originality, though at the expense of +art. But even this assumption, on a closer examination, appears +extremely questionable. The poetic spirit requires to be limited, that +it may move with a becoming liberty within its proper precincts, as +has been felt by all nations on the first invention of metre; it must +act according to laws derivable from its own essence, otherwise its +strength will evaporate in boundless vacuity. + +The works of genius cannot therefore be permitted to be without form; +but of this there is no danger. However, that we may answer this +objection of want of form, we must understand the exact meaning of the +term "form," since most critics, and more especially those who insist +on a stiff regularity, interpret it merely in a mechanical, and not in +an organical sense. Form is mechanical when, through external force, +it is imparted to any material merely as an accidental addition +without reference to its quality; as, for example, when we give a +particular shape to a soft mass that it may retain the same after its +induration. Organical form, again, is innate; it unfolds itself from +within, and requires its determination contemporaneously with the +perfect development of the germ. We everywhere discover such forms in +nature throughout the whole range of living powers, from the +crystallization of salts and minerals to plants and flowers, and from +these again to the human body. In the fine arts, as well as in the +domain of nature, the supreme artist, all genuine forms are organical, +that is, determined by the quality of the work. In a word, the form is +nothing but a significant exterior, the speaking physiognomy of each +thing, which, as long as it is not disfigured by any destructive +accident, gives a true evidence of its hidden essence. + +Hence it is evident that the spirit of poetry, which, though +imperishable, migrates, as it were, through different bodies, must, so +often as it is newly born in the human race, mold to itself, out of +the nutrimental substance of an altered age, a body of a different +conformation. The forms vary with the direction taken by the poetical +sense; and when we give to the new kinds of poetry the old names, and +judge of them according to the ideas conveyed by these names, the +application which we make of the authority of classical antiquity is +altogether unjustifiable. No one should be tried before a tribunal to +which he is not amenable. We may safely admit that most of the English +and Spanish dramatic works are neither tragedies nor comedies in the +sense of the ancients; they are romantic dramas. That the stage of a +people in its foundation and formation, who neither knew nor wished to +know anything of foreign models, will possess many peculiarities, and +not only deviate from, but even exhibit a striking contrast to, the +theatres of other nations who had a common model for imitation before +their eyes, is easily supposable, and we should only be astonished +were it otherwise. + +[Illustration: #CAROLINE SCHLEGEL#] + +But when in two nations, differing so widely as the English and +Spanish in physical, moral, political, and religious respects, the +theatres (which, without being known to one another, arose about the +same time) possess, along with external and internal diversities, the +most striking features of affinity, the attention even of the most +thoughtless cannot but be turned to this phenomenon; and the +conjecture will naturally occur that the same, or, at least, a kindred +principle must have prevailed in the development of both. This +comparison, however, of the English and Spanish theatre, in their +common contrast with every dramatic literature which has grown up out +of an imitation of the ancients, has, so far as we know, never yet +been attempted. Could we raise from the dead a countryman, a +contemporary and intelligent admirer of Shakespeare, and another of +Calderon, and introduce to their acquaintance the works of the poet to +which in life they were strangers, they would both, without doubt, +considering the subject rather from a national than a general point of +view, enter with difficulty into the above idea and have many +objections to urge against it. But here a reconciling criticism[12] +must step in; and this, perhaps, may be best exercised by a German, +who is free from the national peculiarities of either Englishmen or +Spaniards, yet by inclination friendly to both, and prevented by no +jealousy from acknowledging the greatness which has been earlier +exhibited in other countries than his own. + +The similarity of the English and Spanish theatres does not consist +merely in the bold neglect of the Unities of Place and Time, or in the +commixture of comic and tragic elements; that they were unwilling or +unable to comply with the rules and with right reason (in the meaning +of certain critics these terms are equivalent), may be considered as +an evidence of merely negative properties. The ground of the +resemblance lies far deeper, in the inmost substance of the fictions +and in the essential relations through which every deviation of form +becomes a true requisite, which, together with its validity, has also +its significance. What they have in common with each other is the +spirit of the romantic poetry, giving utterance to itself in a +dramatic shape. However, to explain ourselves with due precision, the +Spanish theatre, in our opinion, down to its decline and fall in the +commencement of the eighteenth century, is almost entirely romantic; +the English is completely so in Shakespeare alone, its founder and +greatest master; but in later poets the romantic principle appears +more or less degenerated, or is no longer perceivable, although the +march of dramatic composition introduced by virtue of it has been, +outwardly at least, pretty generally retained. The manner in which the +different ways of thinking of the two nations, one a northern and the +other a southern, have been expressed; the former endowed with a +gloomy, the latter with a glowing imagination; the one nation +possessed of a scrutinizing seriousness disposed to withdraw within +itself, the other impelled outwardly by the violence of passion--the +mode in which all this has been accomplished will be most +satisfactorily explained at the close of this section, when we come to +institute a parallel between Shakespeare and Calderon, the only two +poets who are entitled to be called great. + +Of the origin and essence of the romantic I treated in my first +Lecture, and I shall here, therefore, merely briefly mention the +subject. The ancient art and poetry rigorously separate things which +are dissimilar; the romantic delights in indissoluble mixtures; all +contrarieties--nature and art, poetry and prose, seriousness and +mirth, recollection and anticipation, spirituality and sensuality, +terrestrial and celestial, life and death, are by it blended in the +most intimate combination. As the oldest law-givers delivered their +mandatory instructions and prescriptions in measured melodies; as this +is fabulously ascribed to Orpheus, the first softener of the yet +untamed race of mortals; in like manner the whole of ancient poetry +and art is, as it were, a rhythmical _nomos_ (law), a harmonious +promulgation of the permanently established legislation of a world +submitted to a beautiful order and reflecting in itself the eternal +images of things. Romantic poetry, on the other hand, is the +expression of the secret attraction to a chaos which lies concealed in +the very bosom of the ordered universe, and is perpetually striving +after new and marvelous births; the life-giving spirit of primal love +broods here anew on the face of the waters. The former is more simple, +clear, and like to nature in the self-existent perfection of her +separate works; the latter, notwithstanding its fragmentary +appearance, approaches nearer to the secret of the universe. For +Conception can only comprise each object separately, but nothing in +truth can ever exist separately and by itself; Feeling perceives all +in all at one and the same time. + +Respecting the two species of poetry with which we are here +principally occupied, we compared the ancient Tragedy to a group in +sculpture, the figures corresponding to the characters, and their +grouping to the action; and to these two, in both productions of art, +is the consideration exclusively directed, as being all that is +properly exhibited. But the romantic drama must be viewed as a large +picture, where not merely figure and motion are exhibited in larger, +richer groups, but where even all that surrounds the figures must also +be portrayed; where we see not merely the nearest objects, but are +indulged with the prospect of a considerable distance; and all this +under a magical light which assists in giving to the impression the +particular character desired. + +Such a picture must be bounded less perfectly and less distinctly than +the group; for it is like a fragment cut out of the optic scene of +the world. However, the painter, by the setting of his foreground, by +throwing the whole of his light into the centre, and by other means of +fixing the point of view, will learn that he must neither wander +beyond the composition nor omit anything within it. + +In the representation of figure, Painting cannot compete with +Sculpture, since the former can exhibit it only by a deception and +from a single point of view; but, on the other hand, it communicates +more life to its imitations by colors which in a picture are made to +imitate the lightest shades of mental expression in the countenance. +The look, which can be given only very imperfectly by Sculpture, +enables us to read much deeper in the mind and perceive its lightest +movements. Its peculiar charm, in short, consists in this, that it +enables us to see in bodily objects what is least corporeal, namely, +light and air. + +The very same description of beauties are peculiar to the romantic +drama. It does not (like the Old Tragedy) separate seriousness and the +action, in a rigid manner, from among the whole ingredients of life; +it embraces at once the whole of the chequered drama of life with all +its circumstances; and while it seems only to represent subjects +brought accidentally together, it satisfies the unconscious +requisitions of fancy, buries us in reflections on the inexpressible +signification of the objects which we view blended by order, nearness +and distance, light and color, into one harmonious whole; and thus +lends, as it were, a soul to the prospect before us. + +The change of time and of place (supposing its influence on the mind +to be included in the picture and that it comes to the aid of the +theatrical perspective, with reference to what is indicated in the +distance, or half-concealed by intervening objects); the contrast of +gayety and gravity (supposing that in degree and kind they bear a +proportion to each other); finally, the mixture of the dialogical and +the lyrical elements (by which the poet is enabled, more or less +perfectly, to transform his personages into poetical beings)--these, +in my opinion, are not mere licenses, but true beauties in the +romantic drama. In all these points, and in many others also, the +English and Spanish works, which are preeminently worthy of this title +of Romantic, fully resemble each other, however different they may be +in other respects. + +Of the two we shall first notice the English theatre, because it +arrived at maturity earlier than the Spanish. In both we must occupy +ourselves almost exclusively with a single artist, with Shakespeare in +the one and Calderon in the other; but not in the same order with +each, for Shakespeare stands first and earliest among the English; any +remarks we may have to make on earlier or contemporary antiquities of +the English stage may be made in a review of his history. But Calderon +had many predecessors; he is at once the summit and almost the close +of dramatic art in Spain. + +The wish to speak with the brevity which the limits of my plan demand, +of a poet to the study of whom I have devoted many years of my life, +places me in no little embarrassment. I know not where to begin; for I +should never be able to end, were I to say all that I have felt and +thought, on the perusal of his works. With the poet, as with the man, +a more than ordinary intimacy prevents us, perhaps, from putting +ourselves in the place of those who are first forming an acquaintance +with him: we are too familiar with his most striking peculiarities to +be able to pronounce upon the first impression which they are +calculated to make on others. On the other hand, we ought to possess, +and to have the power of communicating, more correct ideas of his mode +of procedure, of his concealed or less obvious views, and of the +meaning and import of his labors, than others whose acquaintance with +him is more limited. + +Shakespeare is the pride of his nation. A late poet has, with +propriety, called him "the genius of the British isles." He was the +idol of his contemporaries during the interval, indeed, of puritanical +fanaticism, which broke out in the next generation and rigorously +proscribed all liberal arts and literature, and, during the reign of +the second Charles, when his works were either not acted at all, or, +if so, very much changed and disfigured, his fame was awhile obscured, +only to shine forth again about the beginning of the last century with +more than its original brightness; but since then it has only +increased in lustre with the course of time; and for centuries to come +(I speak it with the greatest confidence) it will, like an Alpine +avalanche, continue to gather strength at every moment of its +progress. Of the future extension of his fame, the enthusiasm with +which he was naturalized in Germany, the moment that he was known, is +a significant earnest. In the South of Europe,[13] his language and +the great difficulty of translating him with fidelity will be, +perhaps, an invincible obstacle to his general diffusion. In England, +the greatest actors vie with one another in the impersonation of his +characters; the printers in splendid editions of his works; and the +painters in transferring his scenes to the canvas. Like Dante, +Shakespeare has received the perhaps inevitable but still cumbersome +honor of being treated like a classical author of antiquity. The +oldest editions have been carefully collated, and, where the readings +seemed corrupt, many corrections have been suggested; and the whole +literature of his age has been drawn forth from the oblivion to which +it had been consigned, for the sole purpose of explaining the phrases +and illustrating the allusions of Shakespeare. Commentators have +succeeded one another in such number that their labors alone, with the +critical controversies to which they have given rise, constitute of +themselves no inconsiderable library. These labors deserve both our +praise and gratitude--more especially the historical investigations +into the sources from which Shakespeare drew the materials of his +plays and also into the previous and contemporary state of the +English stage, as well as other kindred subjects of inquiry. With +respect, however, to their merely philological criticisms, I am +frequently compelled to differ from the commentators; and where, too, +considering him simply as a poet, they endeavor to enter into his +views and to decide upon his merits, I must separate myself from them +entirely. I have hardly ever found either truth or profundity in their +remarks; and these critics seem to me to be but stammering +interpreters of the general and almost idolatrous admiration of his +countrymen. There may be people in England who entertain the same +views of them with myself, at least it is a well-known fact that a +satirical poet has represented Shakespeare, under the hands of his +commentators, by Actæon worried to death by his own dogs; and, +following up the story of Ovid, designated a female writer on the +great poet as the snarling Lycisca. + +We shall endeavor, in the first place, to remove some of these false +views, in order to clear the way for our own homage, that we may +thereupon offer it the more freely without let or hindrance. + +From all the accounts of Shakespeare which have come down to us it is +clear that his contemporaries knew well the treasure they possessed in +him, and that they felt and understood him better than most of those +who succeeded him. In those days a work was generally ushered into the +world with Commendatory Verses; and one of these, prefixed to an early +edition of Shakespeare, by an unknown author, contains some of the +most beautiful and happy lines that were ever applied to any poet.[14] +An idea, however, soon became prevalent that Shakespeare was a rude +and wild genius, who poured forth at random, and without aim or +object, his unconnected compositions. Ben Jonson, a younger +contemporary and rival of Shakespeare, who labored in the sweat of his +brow, but with no great success, to expel the romantic drama from the +English stage and to form it on the model of the ancients, gave it as +his opinion that Shakespeare did not blot enough, and that, as he did +not possess much school-learning, he owed more to nature than to art. +The learned, and sometimes rather pedantic Milton was also of this +opinion, when he says-- + + Our sweetest Shakespeare, fancy's child, + Warbles his native wood-notes wild. + +Yet it is highly honorable to Milton that the sweetness of +Shakespeare, the quality which of all others has been least allowed, +was felt and acknowledged by him. The modern editors, both in their +prefaces, which may be considered as so many rhetorical exercises in +praise of the poet, and in their remarks on separate passages, go +still farther. Judging them by principles which are not applicable to +them, not only do they admit the irregularity of his pieces, but, on +occasion, they accuse him of bombast, of a confused, ungrammatical, +and conceited mode of writing, and even of the most contemptible +buffoonery. Pope asserts that he wrote both better and worse than any +other man. All the scenes and passages which did not square with the +littleness of his own taste, he wished to place to the account of +interpolating players; and he was on the right road, had his opinion +been taken, of giving us a miserable dole of a mangled Shakespeare. It +is, therefore, not to be wondered at if foreigners, with the exception +of the Germans latterly, have, in their ignorance of him, even +improved upon these opinions.[15] They speak in general of +Shakespeare's plays as monstrous productions, which could have been +given to the world only by a disordered imagination in a barbarous +age; and Voltaire crowns the whole with more than usual assurance +when he observes that _Hamlet_, the profound masterpiece of the +philosophical poet, "seems the work of a drunken savage." That +foreigners, and, in particular, Frenchmen, who ordinarily speak the +most strange language of antiquity and the middle ages, as if +cannibalism had been terminated in Europe only by Louis XIV., should +entertain this opinion of Shakespeare, might be pardonable; but that +Englishmen should join in calumniating that glorious epoch of their +history,[16] which laid the foundation of their national greatness, is +incomprehensible. + +Shakespeare flourished and wrote in the last half of the reign of +Queen Elizabeth and first half of that of James I.; and, consequently, +under monarchs who were learned themselves and held literature in +honor. The policy of modern Europe, by which the relations of its +different states have been so variously interwoven with one another, +commenced a century before. The cause of the Protestants was decided +by the accession of Elizabeth to the throne; and the attachment to the +ancient belief cannot therefore be urged as a proof of the prevailing +darkness. Such was the zeal for the study of the ancients that even +court ladies, and the queen herself, were acquainted with Latin and +Greek, and taught even to speak the former--a degree of knowledge +which we should in vain seek for in the courts of Europe at the +present day. The trade and navigation which the English carried on +with all the four quarters of the world made them acquainted with the +customs and mental productions of other nations; and it would appear +that they were then more indulgent to foreign manners than they are +in the present day. Italy had already produced nearly all that still +distinguishes her literature, and, in England, translations in verse +were diligently, and even successfully, executed from the Italian. +Spanish literature also was not unknown, for it is certain that _Don +Quixote_ was read in England soon after its first appearance. Bacon, +the founder of modern experimental philosophy, and of whom it may be +said that he carried in his pocket all that even in this eighteenth +century merits the name of philosophy, was a contemporary of +Shakespeare. His fame as a writer did not, indeed, break forth into +its glory till after his death; but what a number of ideas must have +been in circulation before such an author could arise! Many branches +of human knowledge have, since that time, been more extensively +cultivated, but such branches as are totally unproductive to +poetry--chemistry, mechanics, manufactures, and rural and political +economy--will never enable a man to become a poet. I have +elsewhere[17] examined into the pretensions of modern enlightenment, +as it is called, which looks with such contempt on all preceding ages; +I have shown that at bottom it is all small, superficial, and +unsubstantial. The pride of what has been called "the existing +maturity of human intensity" has come to a miserable end; and the +structures erected by those pedagogues of the human race have fallen +to pieces like the baby-houses of children. + +With regard to the tone of society in Shakespeare's day, it is +necessary to remark that there is a wide difference between true +mental cultivation and what is called polish. That artificial polish +which puts an end to everything like free original communication and +subjects all intercourse to the insipid uniformity of certain rules, +was undoubtedly wholly unknown to the age of Shakespeare, as in a +great measure it still is at the present day in England. It possessed, +on the other hand, a fulness of healthy vigor, which showed itself +always with boldness, and sometimes also with coarseness. The spirit +of chivalry was not yet wholly extinct, and a queen, who was far more +jealous in exacting homage to her sex than to her throne, and who, +with her determination, wisdom, and magnanimity, was in fact well +qualified to inspire the minds of her subjects with an ardent +enthusiasm, inflamed that spirit to the noblest love of glory and +renown. The feudal independence also still survived in some measure; +the nobility vied with one another in splendor of dress and number of +retinue, and every great lord had a sort of small court of his own. +The distinction of ranks was as yet strongly marked--a state of things +ardently to be desired by the dramatic poet. In conversation they took +pleasure in quick and unexpected answers; and the witty sally passed +rapidly like a ball from mouth to mouth, till the merry game could no +longer be kept up. This, and the abuse of the play on words (of which +King James was himself very fond, and we need not therefore wonder at +the universality of the mode), may, doubtless, be considered as +instances of a bad taste; but to take them for symptoms of rudeness +and barbarity is not less absurd than to infer the poverty of a people +from their luxurious extravagance. These strained repartees are +frequently employed by Shakespeare, with the view of painting the +actual tone of the society in his day; it does not, however, follow +that they met with his approbation; on the contrary, it clearly +appears that he held them in derision. Hamlet says, in the scene with +the gravedigger, "By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken +note of it: the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant +comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe." And +Lorenzo, in the _Merchant of Venice_, alluding to Launcelot: + + O dear discretion, how his words are suited! + The fool hath planted in his memory + An army of good words: and I do know + A many fools, that stand in better place, + Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word + Defy the matter. + +Besides, Shakespeare, in a thousand places, lays great and marked +stress on a correct and refined tone of society, and lashes every +deviation from it, whether of boorishness or affected foppery; not +only does he give admirable discourses on it, but he represents it in +all its shades and modifications by rank, age, or sex. What foundation +is there, then, for the alleged barbarity of his age, its offences +against propriety? But if this is to be admitted as a test, then the +ages of Pericles and Augustus must also be described as rude and +uncultivated; for Aristophanes and Horace, who were both considered as +models of urbanity, display, at times, the coarsest indelicacy. On +this subject, the diversity in the moral feeling of ages depends on +other causes. Shakespeare, it is true, sometimes introduces us to +improper company; at others, he suffers ambiguous expressions to +escape in the presence of women, and even from women themselves. This +species of indelicacy was probably not then unusual. He certainly did +not indulge in it merely to please the multitude, for in many of his +pieces there is not the slightest trace of this sort to be found; and +in what virgin purity are many of his female parts worked out! When we +see the liberties taken by other dramatic poets in England in his +time, and even much later, we must account him comparatively chaste +and moral. Neither must we overlook certain circumstances in the +existing state of the theatre. The female parts were not acted by +women, but by boys; and no person of the fair sex appeared in the +theatre without a mask. Under such a carnival disguise, much might be +heard by them, and much might be ventured to be said in their +presence, which in other circumstances would have been absolutely +improper. It is certainly to be wished that decency should be observed +on all public occasions, and consequently also on the stage. But even +in this it is possible to go too far. That carping censoriousness +which scents out impurity in every bold sally, is, at best, but an +ambiguous criterion of purity of morals; and beneath this hypocritical +guise there often lurks the consciousness of an impure imagination. +The determination to tolerate nothing which has the least reference to +the sensual relation between the sexes, may be carried to a pitch +extremely oppressive to a dramatic poet and highly prejudicial to the +boldness and freedom of his compositions. If such considerations were +to be attended to, many of the happiest parts of Shakespeare's plays, +for example, in _Measure for Measure_, and _All's Well that Ends +Well_, which, nevertheless, are handled with a due regard to decency, +must be set aside as sinning against this would-be propriety. + +Had no other monuments of the age of Elizabeth come down to us than +the works of Shakespeare, I should, from them alone, have formed the +most favorable idea of its state of social culture and enlightenment. +When those who look through such strange spectacles as to see nothing +in them but rudeness and barbarity cannot deny what I have now +historically proved, they are usually driven to this last resource, +and demand, "What has Shakespeare to do with the mental culture of his +age? He had no share in it. Born in an inferior rank, ignorant and +uneducated, he passed his life in low society, and labored to please a +vulgar audience for his bread, without ever dreaming of fame or +posterity." + +In all this there is not a single word of truth, though it has been +repeated a thousand times. It is true we know very little of the +poet's life; and what we do know consists for the most part of +raked-up and chiefly suspicious anecdotes, of about such a character +as those which are told at inns to inquisitive strangers who visit the +birthplace or neighborhood of a celebrated man. Within a very recent +period some original documents have been brought to light, and, among +them, his will, which give us a peep into his family concerns. It +betrays more than ordinary deficiency of critical acumen in +Shakespeare's commentators, that none of them, so far as we know, has +ever thought of availing himself of his sonnets for tracing the +circumstances of his life. These sonnets paint most unequivocally the +actual situation and sentiments of the poet; they make us acquainted +with the passions of the man; they even contain remarkable confessions +of his youthful errors. Shakespeare's father was a man of property, +whose ancestors had held the office of alderman and bailiff in +Stratford; and in a diploma from the Heralds' Office for the renewal +or confirmation of his coat of arms, he is styled _gentleman_. Our +poet, the oldest son but third child, could not, it is true, receive +an academic education, as he married when hardly eighteen, probably +from mere family considerations. This retired and unnoticed life he +continued to lead but a few years; and he was either enticed to London +from wearisomeness of his situation, or banished from home, as it is +said, in consequence of his irregularities. There he assumed the +profession of a player, which he considered at first as a degradation, +principally, perhaps, because of the wild excesses[18] into which he +was seduced by the example of his comrades. It is extremely probable +that the poetical fame which, in the progress of his career, he +afterward acquired, greatly contributed to ennoble the stage and to +bring the player's profession into better repute. Even at a very early +age he endeavored to distinguish himself as a poet in other walks than +those of the stage, as is proved by his juvenile poems of _Adonis and +Lucrece_. He quickly rose to be a sharer or joint proprietor, and also +manager, of the theatre for which he wrote. That he was not admitted +to the society of persons of distinction is altogether incredible. Not +to mention many others, he found a liberal friend and kind patron in +the Earl of Southampton, the friend of the unfortunate Essex. His +pieces were not only the delight of the great public, but also in +great favor at court; the two monarchs under whose reigns he wrote +were, according to the testimony of a contemporary, quite "taken" with +him.[19] Many plays were acted at court; and Elizabeth appears herself +to have commanded the writing of more than one to be acted at her +court festivals. King James, it is well known, honored Shakespeare so +far as to write to him with his own hand. All this looks very unlike +either contempt or banishment into the obscurity of a low circle. By +his labors as a poet, player, and stage-manager, Shakespeare acquired +a considerable property, which, in the last years of his too short +life, he enjoyed in his native town in retirement and in the society +of a beloved daughter. Immediately after his death a monument was +erected over his grave, which may be considered sumptuous for those +times. + +In the midst of such brilliant success, and with such distinguished +proofs of respect and honor from his contemporaries, it would be +singular indeed if Shakespeare, notwithstanding the modesty of a great +mind, which he certainly possessed in a peculiar degree, should never +have dreamed of posthumous fame. As a profound thinker he had quite +accurately taken the measure of the circle of human capabilities, and +he could say to himself with confidence that many of his productions +would not easily be surpassed. What foundation then is there for the +contrary assertion, which would degrade the immortal artist to the +situation of a daily laborer for a rude multitude? Merely this, that +he himself published no edition of his whole works. We do not reflect +that a poet, always accustomed to labor immediately for the stage, who +has often enjoyed the triumph of overpowering assembled crowds of +spectators and drawing from them the most tumultuous applause, who the +while was not dependent on the caprice of crotchety stage directors, +but left to his own discretion to select and determine the mode of +theatrical representation, naturally cares much less for the closet of +the solitary reader. During the first formation of a national theatre, +more especially, we find frequent examples of such indifference. Of +the almost innumerable pieces of Lope de Vega, many undoubtedly were +never printed, and are consequently lost; and Cervantes did not print +his earlier dramas, though he certainly boasts of them as meritorious +works. As Shakespeare, on his retiring from the theatre, left his +manuscripts behind with his fellow-managers, he may have relied on +theatrical tradition for handing them down to posterity, which would +indeed have been sufficient for that purpose if the closing of the +theatres, under the tyrannical intolerance of the Puritans, had not +interrupted the natural order of things. We know, besides, that the +poets used then to sell the exclusive copyright of their pieces to the +theatre:[20] it is therefore not improbable that the right of property +in his unprinted pieces was no longer vested in Shakespeare, or had +not, at least, yet reverted to him. His fellow-managers entered on the +publication seven years after his death (which probably cut short his +own intention), as it would appear on their own account and for their +own advantage. + +LECTURE XXIII + +Ignorance or Learning of Shakespeare--Costume as observed by Shakespeare, +and how far necessary, or may be dispensed with in the Drama--Shakespeare +the greatest drawer of Character--Vindication of the genuineness of his +pathos--Play on words--Moral delicacy--Irony--Mixture of the Tragic and +Comic--The part of the Fool or Clown--Shakespeare's Language and +Versification. + +Our poet's want of scholarship has been the subject of endless +controversy, and yet it is surely a very easy matter to decide. +Shakespeare was poor in dead school-cram, but he possessed a rich +treasury of living and intuitive knowledge. He knew a little Latin, +and even something of Greek, though it may be not enough to read with +ease the writers in the original. With modern languages also, the +French and Italian, he had, perhaps, but a superficial acquaintance. +The general direction of his mind was not to the collection of words +but of facts. With English books, whether original or translated, he +was extensively acquainted: we may safely affirm that he had read all +that his native language and literature then contained that could be +of any use to him in his poetical avocations. He was sufficiently +intimate with mythology to employ it, in the only manner he could +wish, in the way of symbolical ornament. He had formed a correct +notion of the spirit of Ancient History, and more particularly of that +of the Romans; and the history of his own country was familiar to him +even in detail. Fortunately for him it had not as yet been treated in +a diplomatic and pragmatic spirit, but merely in the chronicle-style; +in other words, it had not yet assumed the appearance of dry +investigations respecting the development of political relations, +diplomatic negotiations, finances, etc., but exhibited a visible image +of the life and movement of an age prolific of great deeds. +Shakespeare, moreover, was a nice observer of nature; he knew the +technical language of mechanics and artisans; he seems to have been +well traveled in the interior of his own country, while of others he +inquired diligently of traveled navigators respecting their +peculiarity of climate and customs. He thus became accurately +acquainted with all the popular usages, opinions, and traditions which +could be of use in poetry. + +The proofs of his ignorance, on which the greatest stress is laid, are +a few geographical blunders and anachronisms. Because in a comedy +founded on an earlier tale, he makes ships visit Bohemia, he has been +the subject of much laughter. But I conceive that we should be very +unjust toward him, were we to conclude that he did not, as well as +ourselves, possess the useful but by no means difficult knowledge that +Bohemia is nowhere bounded by the sea. He could never, in that case, +have looked into a map of Germany, but yet describes elsewhere, with +great accuracy, the maps of both Indies, together with the discoveries +of the latest navigators.[21] In such matters Shakespeare is faithful +only to the details of the domestic stories. In the novels on which he +worked, he avoided disturbing the associations of his audience, to +whom they were known, by novelties--the correction of errors in +secondary and unimportant particulars. The more wonderful the story, +the more it ranged in a purely poetical region, which he transfers at +will to an indefinite distance. These plays, whatever names they bear, +take place in the true land of romance and in the very century of +wonderful love stories. He knew well that in the forest of Ardennes +there were neither the lions and serpents of the torrid zone, nor the +shepherdesses of Arcadia; but he transferred both to it,[22] because +the design and import of his picture required them. Here he considered +himself entitled to take the greatest liberties. He had not to do with +a hair-splitting, hypercritical age like ours, which is always seeking +in poetry for something else than poetry; his audience entered the +theatre, not to learn true chronology, geography, and natural history, +but to witness a vivid exhibition. I will undertake to prove that +Shakespeare's anachronisms are, for the most part, committed of set +purpose and deliberately. It was frequently of importance to him to +move the exhibited subjects out of the background of time and bring it +quite near us. Hence in _Hamlet_, though avowedly an old Northern +story, there runs a tone of modish society, and in every respect the +customs of the most recent period. Without those circumstantialities +it would not have been allowable to make a philosophical inquirer of +Hamlet, on which trait, however, the meaning of the whole is made to +rest. On that account he mentions his education at a university, +though, in the age of the true Hamlet of history, universities were +not in existence. He makes him study at Wittenberg, and no selection +of a place could have been more suitable. The name was very popular: +the story of _Dr. Faustus of Wittenberg_ had made it well known; it +was of particular celebrity in Protestant England, as Luther had +taught and written there shortly before, and the very name must have +immediately suggested the idea of freedom in thinking. I cannot even +consider it an anachronism that Richard the Third should speak of +Machiavelli. The word is here used altogether proverbially the +contents, at least, of the book entitled _Of the Prince_ (_Del +Principe_) have been in existence ever since the existence of tyrants; +Machiavelli was merely the first to commit them to writing. + +That Shakespeare has accurately hit the essential custom, namely, the +spirit of ages and nations, is at least acknowledged generally by the +English critics; but many sins against external costume may be easily +remarked. Yet here it is necessary to bear in mind that the Roman +pieces were acted upon the stage of that day in the European dress. +This was, it is true, still grand and splendid, not so silly and +tasteless as it became toward the end of the seventeenth century. +(Brutus and Cassius appeared in the Spanish cloak; they wore, quite +contrary to the Roman custom, the sword by their side in time of +peace, and, according to the testimony of an eye witness,[23] it was, +in the dialogue where Brutus stimulates Cassius to the conspiracy, +drawn, as if involuntarily, half out of the sheath). This does in no +way agree with our way of thinking: we are not content without the +toga. + +The present, perhaps, is not an inappropriate place for a few general +observations on costume, considered with reference to art. It has +never been more accurately observed than in the present day; art has +become a slop-shop for pedantic antiquities. This is because we live +in a learned and critical, but by no means poetical age. The ancients +before us used, when they had to represent the religions of other +nations which deviated very much from their own, to bring them into +conformity with the Greek mythology. In Sculpture, again, the same +dress, namely, the Phrygian, was adopted, once for all, for every +barbaric tribe. Not that they did not know that there were as many +different dresses as nations; but in art they merely wished to +acknowledge the great contrast between barbarian and civilized: and +this, they thought, was rendered most strikingly apparent in the +Phrygian garb. The earlier Christian painters represent the Savior, +the Virgin Mary, the Patriarchs, and the Apostles in an ideal dress, +but the subordinate actors or spectators of the action in the dresses +of their own nation and age. Here they were guided by a correct +feeling: the mysterious and sacred ought to be kept at an +awe-inspiring distance, but the human cannot be rightly understood if +seen without its usual accompaniments. In the middle ages all heroical +stories of antiquity, from Theseus and Achilles down to Alexander, +were metamorphosed into true tales of chivalry. What was related to +themselves spoke alone an intelligible language to them; of +differences and distinctions they did not care to know. In an old +manuscript of the _Iliad_, I saw a miniature illumination representing +Hector's funeral procession, where the coffin is hung with noble coats +of arms and carried into a Gothic church. It is easy to make merry +with this piece of simplicity, but a reflecting mind will see the +subject in a very different light. A powerful consciousness of the +universal validity and the solid permanency of their own manner of +being, an undoubting conviction that it has always so been and will +ever continue so to be in the world--these feelings of our ancestors +were symptoms of a fresh fulness of life; they were the marrow of +action in reality as well as in fiction. Their plain and affectionate +attachment to everything around them, handed down from their fathers, +is by no means to be confounded with the obstreperous conceit of ages +of mannerism, for they, out of vanity, introduce the fleeting modes +and fashion of the day into art, because to them everything like noble +simplicity seems boorish and rude. The latter impropriety is now +abolished: but, on the other hand, our poets and artists, if they +would hope for our approbation, must, like servants, wear the livery +of distant centuries and foreign nations. We are everywhere at home +except at home. We do ourselves the justice to allow that the present +mode of dressing, forms of politeness, etc., are altogether +unpoetical, and art is therefore obliged to beg, as an alms, a +poetical costume from the antiquaries. To that simple way of thinking, +which is merely attentive to the inward truth of the composition, +without stumbling at anachronisms or other external inconsistencies, +we cannot, alas! now return; but we must envy the poets to whom it +offered itself; it allowed them a great breadth and freedom in the +handling of their subject. + +Many things in Shakespeare must be judged of according to the above +principles, respecting the difference between the essential and the +merely learned costume. They will also in their measure admit of an +application to Calderon. + +So much with respect to the spirit of the age in which Shakespeare +lived, and his peculiar mental culture and knowledge. To me he appears +a profound artist, and not a blind and wildly luxuriant genius. I +consider, generally speaking, all that has been said on the subject a +mere fable, a blind and extravagant error. In other arts the assertion +refutes itself; for in them acquired knowledge is an indispensable +condition of clever execution. But even in such poets as are usually +given out as careless pupils of nature, devoid of art or school +discipline, I have always found, on a nearer consideration of the +works of real excellence they may have produced, even a high +cultivation of the mental powers, practice in art, and views both +worthy in themselves and maturely considered. This applies to Homer as +well as to Dante. The activity of genius is, it is true, natural to +it, and, in a certain sense, unconscious; and, consequently, the +person who possesses it is not always at the moment able to render an +account of the course which he may have pursued; but it by no means +follows that the thinking power had not a great share in it. It is +from the very rapidity and certainty of the mental process, from the +utmost clearness of understanding, that thinking in a poet is not +perceived as something abstracted, does not wear the appearance of +reflex meditation. That notion of poetical inspiration, which many +lyrical poets have brought into circulation, as if they were not in +their senses, and, like Pythia when possessed by the divinity, +delivered oracles unintelligible to themselves--this notion (a mere +lyrical invention) is least of all applicable to dramatic composition, +one of the most thoughtful productions of the human mind. It is +admitted that Shakespeare has reflected, and deeply reflected, on +character and passion, on the progress of events and human destinies, +on the human constitution, on all the things and relations of the +world; this is an admission which must be made, for one alone of +thousands of his maxims would be a sufficient refutation of any who +should attempt to deny it. So that it was only for the structure of +his own pieces that he had no thought to spare? This he left to the +dominion of chance, which blew together the atoms of Epicurus. But +supposing that, devoid of any higher ambition to approve himself to +judicious critics and posterity, and wanting in that love of art which +longs for self-satisfaction in the perfection of its works, he had +merely labored to please the unlettered crowd; still this very object +alone and the pursuit of theatrical effect would have led him to +bestow attention to the structure and adherence of his pieces. For +does not the impression of a drama depend in an especial manner on the +relation of the parts to one another? And, however beautiful a scene +may be in itself, if yet it be at variance with what the spectators +have been led to expect in its particular place, so as to destroy the +interest which they had hitherto felt, will it not be at once +reprobated by all who possess plain common sense and give themselves +up to nature? The comic intermixtures may be considered merely as a +sort of interlude, designed to relieve the straining of the mind after +the stretch of the more serious parts, so long as no better purpose +can be found in them; but in the progress of the main action, in the +concatenation of the events, the poet must, if possible, display even +more expenditure of thought than in the composition of individual +character and situations, otherwise he would be like the conductor of +a puppet-show who has so entangled his wires that the puppets receive +from their mechanism quite different movements from those which he +actually intended. + +The English critics are unanimous in their praise of the truth and +uniform consistency of his characters, of his heartrending pathos, and +his comic wit. Moreover, they extol the beauty and sublimity of his +separate descriptions, images, and expressions. This last is the most +superficial and cheap mode of criticising works of art. Johnson +compares him who should endeavor to recommend this poet by passages +unconnectedly torn from his works, to the pedant in Hierocles, who +exhibited a brick as a sample of his house. And yet how little, and +how very unsatisfactorily does he himself speak of the pieces +considered as a whole! Let any man, for instance, bring together the +short characters which he gives at the close of each play, and see if +the aggregate will amount to that sum of admiration which he himself, +at his outset, has stated as the correct standard for the appreciation +of the poet. It was, generally speaking, the prevailing tendency of +the time which preceded our own, and which has showed itself +particularly in physical science, to consider everything having life +as a mere accumulation of dead parts, to separate what exists only in +connection and cannot otherwise be conceived, instead of penetrating +to the central point and viewing all the parts as so many irradiations +from it. Hence nothing is so rare as a critic who can elevate himself +to the comprehensive contemplation of a work of art. Shakespeare's +compositions, from the very depth of purpose displayed in them, have +been especially liable to the misfortune of being misunderstood. +Besides, this prosaic species of criticism requires always that the +poetic form should be applied to the details of execution; but when +the plan of the piece is concerned, it never looks for more than the +logical connection of causes and effects, or some partial and trite +moral by way of application; and all that cannot be reconciled +therewith is declared superfluous, or even a pernicious appendage. On +these principles we must even strike out from the Greek tragedies most +of the choral songs, which also contribute nothing to the development +of the action, but are merely an harmonious echo of the impressions +the poet aims at conveying. In this they altogether mistake the rights +of poetry and the nature of the romantic drama, which, for the very +reason that it is and ought to be picturesque, requires richer +accompaniments and contrasts for its main groups. In all Art and +Poetry, but more especially in the romantic, the Fancy lays claims to +be considered as an independent mental power governed according to its +own laws. + +In an essay on _Romeo and Juliet_,[24] written a number of years ago, +I went through the whole of the scenes in their order and demonstrated +the inward necessity of each with reference to the whole; I showed why +such a particular circle of characters and relations was placed around +the two lovers; I explained the signification of the mirth here and +there scattered, and justified the use of the occasional heightening +given to the poetical colors. From all this it seemed to follow +unquestionably that, with the exception of a few criticisms, now +become unintelligible or foreign to the present taste (imitations of +the tone of society of that day), nothing could be taken away, nothing +added, nothing otherwise arranged, without mutilating and disfiguring +the perfect work. I would readily undertake to do the same for all the +pieces of Shakespeare's maturer years, but to do this would require a +separate book. Here I am reduced to confine my observations to tracing +his great designs with a rapid pencil; but still I must previously be +allowed to deliver my sentiments in a general manner on the subject of +his most eminent peculiarities. + +Shakespeare's knowledge of mankind has become proverbial: in this his +superiority is so great that he has justly been called the master of +the human heart. A readiness to remark the mind's fainter and +involuntary utterances, and the power to express with certainty the +meaning of these signs, as determined by experience and reflection, +constitute "the observer of men;" but tacitly to draw from these still +further conclusions and to arrange the separate observations according +to grounds of probability into a just and valid combination--this, it +may be said, is to know men. The distinguishing property of the +dramatic poet who is great in characterization, is something +altogether different here, and which, take it which way we will, +either includes in it this readiness and this acuteness, or dispenses +with both. It is the capability of transporting himself so completely +into every situation, even the most unusual, that he is enabled, as +plenipotentiary of the whole human race, without particular +instructions for each separate case, to act and speak in the name of +every individual. It is the power of endowing the creatures of his +imagination with such self-existent energy that they afterward act in +each conjuncture according to general laws of nature: the poet, in his +dreams, institutes, as it were, experiments which are received with as +much authority as if they had been made on waking objects. The +inconceivable element herein, and what moreover can never be learned, +is, that the characters appear neither to do nor to say anything on +the spectator's account merely; and yet that the poet, simply by means +of the exhibition, and without any subsidiary explanation, +communicates to his audience the gift of looking into the inmost +recesses of their minds. Hence Goethe has ingeniously compared +Shakespeare's characters to watches with crystalline plates and cases, +which, while they point out the hours as correctly as other watches, +enable us at the same time to perceive the inward springs whereby all +this is accomplished. + +Nothing, however, is more foreign to Shakespeare than a certain +anatomical style of exhibition, which laboriously enumerates all the +motives by which a man is determined to act in this or that particular +manner. This rage of supplying motives, the mania of so many modern +historians, might be carried at length to an extent which would +abolish everything like individuality, and resolve all character into +nothing but the effect of foreign or external influences, whereas we +know that it often announces itself most decidedly in earliest +infancy. After all, a man acts so because he is so. And what each man +is, that Shakespeare reveals to us most immediately: he demands and +obtains our belief even for what is singular, and deviates from the +ordinary course of nature. Never perhaps was there so comprehensive a +talent for characterization as Shakespeare. It not only grasps every +diversity of rank, age, and sex, down to the lispings of infancy; not +only do the king and the beggar, the hero and the pickpocket, the sage +and the idiot, speak and act with equal truthfulness; not only does he +transport himself to distant ages and foreign nations, and portray +with the greatest accuracy (a few apparent violations of costume +excepted) the spirit of the ancient Romans, of the French in the wars +with the English, of the English themselves during a great part of +their history, of the Southern Europeans (in the serious part of many +comedies), the cultivated society of the day, and the rude barbarism +of a Norman fore-time; his human characters have not only such depth +and individuality that they do not admit of being classed under common +names, and are inexhaustible even in conception: no, this Prometheus +not merely forms men, he opens the gates of the magical world of +spirits, calls up the midnight ghost, exhibits before us the witches +with their unhallowed rites, peoples the air with sportive fairies and +sylphs; and these beings, though existing only in the imagination, +nevertheless possess such truth and consistency that even with such +misshapen abortions as Caliban, he extorts the assenting conviction +that, were there such beings, they would so conduct themselves. In a +word, as he carries a bold and pregnant fancy into the kingdom of +nature, on the other hand he carries nature into the region of fancy +which lie beyond the confines of reality. We are lost in astonishment +at the close intimacy he brings us into with the extraordinary, the +wonderful, and the unheard-of. + +Pope and Johnson appear strangely to contradict each other, when the +first says, "all the characters of Shakespeare are individuals," and +the second, "they are species." And yet perhaps these opinions may +admit of reconciliation. Pope's expression is unquestionably the more +correct. A character which should be merely a personification of a +naked general idea could neither exhibit any great depth nor any great +variety. The names of genera and species are well known to be merely +auxiliaries for the understanding, that we may embrace the infinite +variety of nature in a certain order. The characters which Shakespeare +has so thoroughly delineated have undoubtedly a number of individual +peculiarities, but at the same time they possess a significance which +is not applicable to them alone: they generally supply materials for a +profound theory of their most prominent and distinguishing property. +But even with the above correction, this opinion must still have its +limitations. Characterization is merely one ingredient of the dramatic +art, and not dramatic poetry itself. It would be improper in the +extreme, if the poet were to draw our attention to superfluous traits +of character at a time when it ought to be his endeavor to produce +other impressions. Whenever the musical or the fanciful preponderates, +the characteristical necessarily falls into the background. Hence many +of the figures of Shakespeare exhibit merely external designations, +determined by the place which they occupy in the whole: they are like +secondary persons in a public procession, to whose physiognomy we +seldom pay much attention; their only importance is derived from the +solemnity of their dress and the duty in which they are engaged. +Shakespeare's messengers, for instance, are for the most part mere +messengers, and yet not common, but poetical messengers: the message +which they have to bring is the soul which suggests to them their +language. Other voices, too, are merely raised to pour forth these as +melodious lamentations or rejoicings, or to dwell in reflection on +what has taken place; and in a serious drama without chorus this must +always be more or less the case, if we would not have it prosaic. + +If Shakespeare deserves our admiration for his characters, he is +equally deserving of it for his exhibition of passion, taking this +word in its widest signification, as including every mental condition, +every tone, from indifference or familiar mirth to the wildest rage +and despair. He gives us the history of minds; he lays open to us, in +a single word, a whole series of their anterior states. His passions +do not stand at the same height, from first to last, as is the case +with so many tragic poets, who, in the language of Lessing, are +thorough masters of the legal style of love. He paints, with +inimitable veracity, the gradual advance from the first origin; "he +gives," as Lessing says, "a living picture of all the slight and +secret artifices by which a feeling steals into our souls, of all the +imperceptible advantages which it there gains, of all the stratagems +by which it makes every other passion subservient to itself, till it +becomes the sole tyrant of our desires and our aversions." Of all the +poets, perhaps, he alone has portrayed the mental diseases, +melancholy, delirium, lunacy, with such inexpressible and, in every +respect, definite truth, that the physician may enrich his +observations from them in the same manner as from real cases. + +And yet Johnson has objected to Shakespeare that his pathos is not +always natural and free from affectation. There are, it is true, +passages, though comparatively speaking very few, where his poetry +exceeds the bounds of actual dialogue, where a too soaring +imagination, a too luxuriant wit, rendered a complete dramatic +forgetfulness of himself impossible. With this exception, the censure +originated in a fanciless way of thinking, to which everything appears +unnatural that does not consort with its own tame insipidity. Hence an +idea has been formed of simple and natural pathos, which consists in +exclamations destitute of imagery and nowise elevated above everyday +life. But energetical passions electrify all the mental powers, and +will consequently, in highly-favored natures, give utterance to +themselves in ingenious and figurative expressions. It has been often +remarked that indignation makes a man witty; and as despair +occasionally breaks out into laughter, it may sometimes also give vent +to itself in antithetical comparisons. + +Besides, the rights of the poetical form have not been duly weighed. +Shakespeare, who was always sure of his power to excite, when he +wished, sufficiently powerful emotions, has occasionally, by indulging +in a freer play of fancy, purposely tempered the impressions when too +painful, and immediately introduced a musical softening of our +sympathy.[25] He had not those rude ideas of his art which many +moderns seem to have, as if the poet, like the clown in the proverb, +must strike twice on the same place. An ancient rhetorician delivered +a caution against dwelling too long on the excitation of pity; for +nothing, he said, dries so soon as tears; and Shakespeare acted +conformably to this ingenious maxim without having learned it. The +paradoxical assertion of Johnson that "Shakespeare had a greater +talent for comedy than tragedy, and that in the latter he has +frequently displayed an affected tone," is scarcely deserving of +lengthy notice. For its refutation, it is unnecessary to appeal to the +great tragical compositions of the poet, which, for overpowering +effect, leave far behind them almost everything that the stage has +seen besides; a few of their less celebrated scenes would be quite +sufficient. What to many readers might lend an appearance of truth to +this assertion are the verbal witticisms, that playing upon words, +which Shakespeare not unfrequently introduces into serious and sublime +passages and even into those also of a peculiarly pathetic nature. + +I have already stated the point of view in which we ought to consider +this sportive play upon words. I shall here, therefore, merely deliver +a few observations respecting the playing upon words in general, and +its poetical use. A thorough investigation would lead us too far from +our subject, and too deeply into considerations on the essence of +language, and its relation to poetry, or rhyme, etc. + +There is in the human mind a desire that language should exhibit the +object which it denotes, sensibly, by its very sound, which may be +traced even as far back as in the first origin of poetry. As, in the +shape in which language comes down to us, this is seldom perceptibly +the case, an imagination which has been powerfully excited is fond of +laying hold of any congruity in sound which may accidentally offer +itself, that by such means he may, for the nonce, restore the lost +resemblance between the word and the thing. For example, how common +was it and is it to seek in the name of a person, however arbitrarily +bestowed, a reference to his qualities and fortunes--to convert it +purposely into a significant name. Those who cry out against the play +upon words as an unnatural and affected invention, only betray their +own ignorance of original nature. A great fondness for it is always +evinced among children, as well as with nations of simple manners, +among whom correct ideas of the derivation and affinity of words have +not yet been developed, and do not, consequently, stand in the way of +this caprice. In Homer we find several examples of it; the Books of +Moses, the oldest written memorial of the primitive world, are, as is +well known, full of them. On the other hand, poets of a very +cultivated taste, like Petrarch, or orators, like Cicero, have +delighted in them. Whoever, in _Richard the Second_, is disgusted with +the affecting play of words of the dying John of Gaunt on his own +name, should remember that the same thing occurs in the _Ajax_ of +Sophocles. We do not mean to say that all playing upon words is on all +occasions to be justified. This must depend on the disposition of +mind, whether it will admit of such a play of fancy, and whether the +sallies, comparisons, and allusions, which lie at the bottom of them, +possess internal solidity. Yet we must not proceed upon the principle +of trying how the thought appears after it is deprived of the +resemblance in sound, any more than we are to endeavor to feel the +charm of rhymed versification after depriving it of its rhyme. The +laws of good taste on this subject must, moreover, vary with the +quality of the languages. In those which possess a great number of +homonymes, that is, words possessing the same, or nearly the same, +sound, though quite different in their derivation and signification, +it is almost more difficult to avoid, than to fall on such a verbal +play. It has, however, been feared, lest a door might be opened to +puerile witticism, if they were not rigorously proscribed. But I +cannot, for my part, find that Shakespeare had such an invincible and +immoderate passion for this verbal witticism. It is true, he sometimes +makes a most lavish use of this figure; at others, he has employed it +very sparingly; and at times (for example, in _Macbeth_) I do not +believe a vestige of it is to be found. Hence, in respect to the use +or the rejection of the play upon words, he must have been guided by +the measure of the objects and the different style in which they +required to be treated, and probably have followed here, as in +everything else, principles which, fairly examined, will bear a strict +examination. + +The objection that Shakespeare wounds our feelings by the open display +of the most disgusting moral odiousness, unmercifully harrows up the +mind, and tortures even our eyes by the exhibition of the most +insupportable and hateful spectacles, is one of greater and graver +importance. He has, in fact, never varnished over wild and +bloodthirsty passions with a pleasing exterior--never clothed crime +and want of principle with a false show of greatness of soul; and in +that respect he is every way deserving of praise. Twice he has +portrayed downright villains, and the masterly way in which he has +contrived to elude impressions of too painful a nature may be seen in +Iago and Richard the Third. I allow that the reading, and still more +the sight, of some of his pieces, is not advisable to weak nerves, any +more than was the _Eumenides_ of Æschylus; but is the poet, who can +reach an important object only by a bold and hazardous daring, to be +checked by considerations for such persons? If the effeminacy of the +present day is to serve as a general standard of what tragical +composition may properly exhibit to human nature, we shall be forced +to set very narrow limits indeed to art, and the hope of anything like +powerful effect must at once and forever be renounced. If we wish to +have a grand purpose, we must also wish to have the grand means, and +our nerves ought in some measure to accommodate themselves to painful +impressions, if, by way of requital, our mind is thereby elevated and +strengthened. The constant reference to a petty and puny race must +cripple the boldness of the poet. Fortunately for his art, Shakespeare +lived in an age extremely susceptible of noble and tender impressions, +but which had yet inherited enough of the firmness of a vigorous olden +time not to shrink with dismay from every strong and forcible +painting. We have lived to see tragedies of which the catastrophe +consists in the swoon of an enamored princess: if Shakespeare falls +occasionally into the opposite extreme, it is a noble error, +originating in the fulness of a gigantic strength. And this tragical +Titan, who storms the heavens and threatens to tear the world off its +hinges, who, more terrible than Æschylus, makes our hair stand on end +and congeals our blood with horror, possessed at the same time the +insinuating loveliness of the sweetest poesy; he toys with love like a +child, and his songs die away on the ear like melting sighs. He unites +in his soul the utmost elevation and the utmost depth; and the most +opposite and even apparently irreconcilable properties subsist in him +peaceably together. The world of spirits and nature have laid all +their treasures at his feet: in strength a demi-god, in profundity of +view a prophet, in all-seeing wisdom a guardian spirit of a higher +order, he lowers himself to mortals as if unconscious of his +superiority, and is as open and unassuming as a child. + +If the delineation of all his characters, separately considered, +is inimitably bold and correct, he surpasses even himself in so +combining and contrasting them that they serve to bring out one +anothers' peculiarities. This is the very perfection of dramatic +characterization: for we can never estimate a man's true worth if we +consider him altogether abstractedly by himself; we must see him in +his relations with others; and it is here that most dramatic poets are +deficient. Shakespeare makes each of his principal characters the +glass in which the others are reflected, and by like means enables us +to discover what could not be immediately revealed to us. What in +others is most profound, is with him but surface. Ill-advised should +we be were we always to take men's declarations respecting themselves +and others for sterling coin. Ambiguity of design with much propriety +he makes to overflow with the most praiseworthy principles; and sage +maxims are not infrequently put in the mouth of stupidity, to show how +easily such commonplace truisms may be acquired. Nobody ever painted +so truthfully as he has done the facility of self-deception, the half +self-conscious hypocrisy toward ourselves, with which even noble minds +attempt to disguise the almost inevitable influence of selfish motives +in human nature. This secret irony of the characterization commands +admiration as the profound abyss of acuteness and sagacity; but it is +the grave of enthusiasm. We arrive at it only after we have had the +misfortune to see human nature through and through, and after no +choice remains but to adopt the melancholy truth that "no virtue or +greatness is altogether pure and genuine," or the dangerous error that +"the highest perfection is attainable." Here we therefore may perceive +in the poet himself, notwithstanding his power to excite the most +fervent emotions, a certain cool indifference, but still the +indifference of a superior mind, which has run through the whole +sphere of human existence and survived feeling. + +The irony in Shakespeare has not merely a reference to the separate +characters, but frequently to the whole of the action. Most poets who +portray human events in a narrative or dramatic form themselves take a +part, and exact from their readers a blind approbation or condemnation +of whatever side they choose to support or oppose. The more zealous +this rhetoric is, the more certainly it fails of its effect. In every +case we are conscious that the subject itself is not brought +immediately before us, but that we view it through the medium of a +different way of thinking. When, however, by a dextrous manoeuvre, the +poet allows us an occasional glance at the less brilliant reverse of +the medal, then he makes, as it were, a sort of secret understanding +with the select circle of the more intelligent of his readers or +spectators; he shows them that he had previously seen and admitted the +validity of their tacit objections; that he himself is not tied down +to the represented subject, but soars freely above it; and that, if he +chose, he could unrelentingly annihilate the beautiful and +irresistibly attractive scenes which his magic pen has produced. No +doubt, wherever the proper tragic enters, everything like irony +immediately ceases; but from the avowed raillery of Comedy, to the +point where the subjection of mortal beings to an inevitable destiny +demands the highest degree of seriousness, there are a multitude of +human relations which unquestionably may be considered in an ironical +view, without confounding the eternal line of separation between good +and evil. This purpose is answered by the comic characters and scenes +which are interwoven with the serious parts in most of those pieces of +Shakespeare where romantic fables or historical events are made the +subject of a noble and elevating exhibition. Frequently an intentional +parody of the serious part is not to be mistaken in them; at other +times the connection is more arbitrary and loose, and the more so, the +more marvelous the invention of the whole and the more entirely it has +become a light reveling of the fancy. The comic intervals everywhere +serve to prevent the pastime from being converted into a business, to +preserve the mind in the possession of its serenity, and to keep off +that gloomy and inert seriousness which so easily steals upon the +sentimental, but not tragical, drama. Most assuredly Shakespeare did +not intend thereby, in defiance to his own better judgment, to humor +the taste of the multitude: for in various pieces, and throughout +considerable portions of others, and especially when the catastrophe +is approaching, and the mind consequently is more on the stretch and +no longer likely to give heed to any amusement which would distract +their attention, he has abstained from all such comic intermixtures. +It was also an object with him, that the clowns or buffoons should not +occupy a more important place than that which he had assigned them: he +expressly condemns the extemporizing with which they loved to enlarge +their parts.[26] Johnson founds the justification of the species of +drama in which seriousness and mirth are mixed, on this, that in real +life the vulgar is found close to the sublime, that the merry and the +sad usually accompany and succeed each other. But it does not follow +that, because both are found together, therefore they must not be +separable in the compositions of art. The observation is in other +respects just, and this circumstance invests the poet with a power to +adopt this procedure, because everything in the drama must be +regulated by the conditions of theatrical probability; but the mixture +of such dissimilar, and apparently contradictory, ingredients, in the +same works, can be justifiable only on principles reconcilable with +the views of art which I have already described. In the dramas of +Shakespeare the comic scenes are the antechamber of the poetry, where +the servants remain; these prosaic attendants must not raise their +voices so high as to deafen the speakers in the presence-chamber; +however, in those intervals when the ideal society has retired they +deserve to be listened to; their bold raillery, their presumption of +mockery, may afford many an insight into the situation and +circumstances of their masters. + +Shakespeare's comic talent is equally wonderful with that which he has +shown in the pathetic and tragic: it stands on an equal elevation, and +possesses equal extent and profundity; in all that I have hitherto +said, I only wished to guard against admitting that the former +preponderated. He is highly inventive in comic situations and motives: +it will be hardly possible to show whence he has taken any of them, +whereas, in the serious part of his dramas, he has generally laid hold +of some well-known story. His comic characterization is equally true, +various, and profound, with his serious. So little is he disposed to +caricature, that rather, it may be said, many of his traits are almost +too nice and delicate for the stage, that they can be made available +only by a great actor and fully understood only by an acute audience. +Not only has he delineated many kinds of folly, but even of sheer +stupidity has he contrived to give a most diverting and entertaining +picture. There is also in his pieces a peculiar species of the +farcical, which apparently seems to be introduced more arbitrarily, +but which, however, is founded on imitation of some actual custom. +This is the introduction of the merrymaker, the fool with his cap and +bells and motley dress, called more commonly in England "clown," who +appears in several comedies, though not in all, but, of the tragedies, +in _Lear_ alone, and who generally merely exercises his wit in +conversation with the principal persons, though he is also sometimes +incorporated into the action. In those times it was not only usual for +princes to have their court fools, but many distinguished families, +among their other retainers, kept such an exhilarating house-mate as a +good antidote against the insipidity and wearisomeness of ordinary +life, and as a welcome interruption of established formalities. Great +statesmen, and even ecclesiastics, did not consider it beneath their +dignity to recruit and solace themselves after important business with +the conversation of their fools; the celebrated Sir Thomas More had +his fool painted along with himself by Holbein. Shakespeare appears to +have lived immediately before the time when the custom began to be +abolished; in the English comic authors who succeeded him the clown is +no longer to be found. The dismissal of the fool has been extolled as +a proof of refinement; and our honest forefathers have been pitied for +taking delight in such a coarse and farcical amusement. For my part, I +am rather disposed to believe that the practice was dropped from the +difficulty in finding fools able to do full justice to their +parts:[27] on the other hand, reason, with all its conceit of itself, +has become too timid to tolerate such bold irony; it is always careful +lest the mantle of its gravity should be disturbed in any of its +folds; and rather than allow a privileged place to folly beside +itself, it has unconsciously assumed the part of the ridiculous; but, +alas! a heavy and cheerless ridicule.[28] It would be easy to make a +collection of the excellent sallies and biting sarcasms which have +been preserved of celebrated court fools. It is well known that they +frequently told such truths to princes as are never now told to +them.[29] Shakespeare's fools, along with somewhat of an overstraining +for wit, which cannot altogether be avoided when wit becomes a +separate profession, have for the most part an incomparable humor and +an infinite abundance of intellect, enough indeed to supply a whole +host of ordinary wise men. + +I have still a few observations to make on the diction and +versification of our poet. The language is here and there somewhat +obsolete, but on the whole much less so than in most of the +contemporary writers--a sufficient proof of the goodness of his +choice. Prose had as yet been but little cultivated, as the learned +generally wrote in Latin--a favorable circumstance for the dramatic +poet; for what has he to do with the scientific language of books? He +had not only read, but studied, the earlier English poets; but he drew +his language immediately from life itself, and he possessed a masterly +skill in blending the dialogical element with the highest poetical +elevation. I know not what certain critics mean, when they say that +Shakespeare is frequently ungrammatical. To make good their assertion, +they must prove that similar constructions never occur in his +contemporaries, the direct contrary of which can, however, be easily +shown. In no language is everything determined on principle; much is +always left to the caprice of custom, and if this has since changed, +is the poet to be made answerable for it? The English language had not +then attained to that correct insipidity which has been introduced +into the more recent literature of the country, to the prejudice, +perhaps, of its originality. As a field when first brought under the +plough produces, along with the fruitful shoots, many luxuriant weeds, +so the poetical diction of the day ran occasionally into extravagance, +but an extravagance originating in the exuberance of its vigor. We may +still perceive traces of awkwardness, but nowhere of a labored and +spiritless display of art. In general, Shakespeare's style yet remains +the very best model, both in the vigorous and sublime, and the +pleasing and tender. In his sphere he has exhausted all the means and +appliances of language. On all he has impressed the stamp of his +mighty spirit. His images and figures, in their unsought, nay, +uncapricious singularity, have often a sweetness altogether peculiar. +He becomes occasionally obscure from too great fondness for compressed +brevity; but still, the labor of poring over Shakespeare's lines will +invariably meet an ample requital. + +The verse in all his plays is generally the rhymeless iambic of ten or +eleven syllables, only occasionally intermixed with rhymes, but more +frequently alternating with prose. No one piece is written entirely in +prose; for even in those which approach the most to the pure Comedy, +there is always something added which gives them a more poetical hue +than usually belongs to this species. Many scenes are wholly in prose, +in others verse and prose succeed each other alternately. This can +appear an impropriety only in the eyes of those who are accustomed to +consider the lines of a drama like so many soldiers drawn up rank and +file on a parade, with the same uniform, arms, and accoutrements, so +that when we see one or two we may represent to ourselves thousands as +being every way like them. + +In the use of verse and prose Shakespeare observes very nice +distinctions according to the ranks of the speakers, but still more +according to their characters and disposition of mind. A noble +language, elevated above the usual tone, is suitable only to a certain +decorum of manners, which is thrown over both vices and virtues and +which does not even wholly disappear amidst the violence of passion. +If this is not exclusively possessed by the higher ranks, it still, +however, belongs naturally more to them than to the lower; and +therefore, in Shakespeare, dignity and familiarity of language, +poetry, and prose, are in this manner distributed among the +characters. Hence his tradesmen, peasants, soldiers, sailors, +servants, but more especially his fools and clowns, speak, almost +without exception, in the tone of their actual life. However, inward +dignity of sentiment, wherever it is possessed, invariably displays +itself with a nobleness of its own, and stands not in need, for that +end, of the artificial elegancies of education and custom; it is a +universal right of man, of the highest as well as the lowest; and +hence also, in Shakespeare, the nobility of nature and morality is +ennobled above the artificial nobility of society. Not infrequently +also he makes the very same persons express themselves at times in the +sublimest language, and at others in the lowest; and this inequality +is in like manner founded in truth. Extraordinary situations, which +intensely occupy the head and throw mighty passions into play, give +elevation and tension to the soul: it collects all its powers and +exhibits an unusual energy, both in its operations and in its +communications by language. On the other hand, even the greatest men +have their moments of remissness, when to a certain degree they forget +the dignity of their character in unreserved relaxation. This very +tone of mind is necessary before they can receive amusement from the +jokes of others, or, what surely cannot dishonor even a hero, from +passing jokes themselves. Let any person, for example, go carefully +through the part of Hamlet. How bold and powerful the language of his +poetry when he conjures the ghost of his father, when he spurs himself +on to the bloody deed, when he thunders into the soul of his mother! +How he lowers his tone down to that of common life, when he has to do +with persons whose station demands from him such a line of conduct; +when he makes game of Polonius and the courtiers, instructs the +player, and even enters into the jokes of the grave-digger. Of all the +poet's serious leading characters there is none so rich in wit and +humor as Hamlet; hence he it is of all of them that makes the greatest +use of the familiar style. Others, again, never do fall into it; +either because they are constantly surrounded by the pomp of rank, or +because a uniform seriousness is natural to them; or, in short, +because through the whole piece they are under the dominion of a +passion calculated to excite, and not, like the sorrow of Hamlet, to +depress the mind. The choice of the one form or the other is +everywhere so appropriate, and so much founded in the nature of the +thing, that I will venture to assert, even where the poet in the very +same speech makes the speaker leave prose for poetry, or the converse, +this could not be altered without danger of injuring or destroying +some beauty or other. The blank verse has this advantage, that its +tone may be elevated or lowered; it admits of approximation to the +familiar style of conversation, and never forms such an abrupt +contrast as that, for example, between plain prose and the rhyming +Alexandrines. + +Shakespeare's iambics are sometimes highly harmonious and +full-sounding; always varied and suitable to the subject, at one time +distinguished by ease and rapidity, at another they move along with +ponderous energy. They never fall out of the dialogical character, +which may always be traced even in the continued discourses of +individuals, excepting when the latter run into the lyrical. They are +a complete model of the dramatic use of this species of verse, which, +in English, since Milton, has been also used in epic poetry; but in +the latter it has assumed a quite different turn. Even the +irregularities of Shakespeare's versification are expressive; a verse +broken off, or a sudden change of rhythmus, coincides with some pause +in the progress of the thought, or the entrance of another mental +disposition. As a proof that he purposely violated the mechanical +rules, from a conviction that a too symmetrical versification does not +suit with the drama, and, on the stage has in the long run a tendency +to lull the spectators to sleep, we may observe that his earlier +pieces are the most diligently versified, and that, in the later +works, when through practice he must have acquired a greater facility, +we find the strongest deviations from the regular structure of the +verse. As it served with him merely to make the poetical elevation +perceptible, he therefore claimed the utmost possible freedom in the +use of it. + +The views or suggestions of feeling by which he was guided in the use +of rhyme may likewise be traced with almost equal certainty. Not +infrequently scenes, or even single speeches, close with a few rhyming +lines, for the purpose of more strongly marking the division, and of +giving it more rounding. This was injudiciously imitated by the +English tragic poets of a later date; they suddenly elevated the tone +in the rhymed lines, as if the person began all at once to speak in +another language. The practice was welcomed by the actors from its +serving as a signal for clapping when they made their exit. In +Shakespeare, on the other hand, the transitions are more easy: all +changes of forms are brought about insensibly, and as if of +themselves. Moreover, he is generally fond of heightening a series of +ingenious and antithetical sayings by the use of rhyme. We find other +passages in continued rhyme, where solemnity and theatrical pomp were +suitable, as, for instance, in the mask,[30] as it is called, in _The +Tempest_ and in the play introduced in _Hamlet_. Of other pieces, for +instance, the _Midsummer Night's Dream_, and _Romeo and Juliet_, the +rhymes form a considerable part; either because he may have wished to +give them a glowing color, or because the characters appropriately +utter in a more musical tone their complaints or suits of love. In +these cases he has even introduced rhymed strophes, which approach to +the form of the sonnet, then usual in England. The assertion of +Malone, that Shakespeare in his youth was fond of rhyme, but that he +afterward rejected it, is sufficiently refuted by his own chronology +of the poet's works. In some of the earliest, for instance in the +second and third part of _Henry the Sixth_, there are hardly any +rhymes; in what is stated to be his last piece, _Twelfth Night, or +What You Will_, and in _Macbeth_, which is proved to have been +composed under the reign of King James, we find them in no +inconsiderable number. Even in the secondary matters of form +Shakespeare was not guided by humor and accident, but, like a genuine +artist, acted invariably on good and solid grounds. This we might also +show of the kinds of verse which he least frequently used (for +instance, of the rhyming verses of seven and eight syllables), were we +not afraid of dwelling too long on merely technical peculiarities. + +In England the manner of handling rhyming verse, and the opinion as to +its harmony and elegance, have, in the course of two centuries, +undergone a much greater change than is the case with the rhymeless +iambic or blank verse. In the former, Dryden and Pope have become +models; these writers have communicated the utmost smoothness to +rhyme, but they have also tied it down to a harmonious uniformity. A +foreigner, to whom antiquated and new are the same, may perhaps feel +with greater freedom the advantages of the more ancient manner. +Certain it is, the rhyme of the present day, from the too great +confinement of the couplet, is unfit for the drama. We must not +estimate the rhyme of Shakespeare by the mode of subsequent times, but +by a comparison with his contemporaries or with Spenser. The +comparison will, without doubt, turn out to his advantage. Spenser is +often diffuse; Shakespeare, though sometimes hard, is always brief and +vigorous. He has more frequently been induced by the rhyme to leave +out something necessary than to insert anything superfluous. Many of +his rhymes, however, are faultless: ingenious with attractive ease, +and rich without false brilliancy. The songs interspersed (those, I +mean, of the poet himself) are generally sweetly playful and +altogether musical; in imagination, while we merely read them, we hear +their melody. + +The whole of Shakespeare's productions bear the certain stamp of his +original genius, but yet no writer was ever further removed from +everything like a mannerism derived from habit or personal +peculiarities. Rather is he, such is the diversity of tone and color +which vary according to the quality of his subjects he assumes, a very +Proteus. Each of his compositions is like a world of its own, moving +in its own sphere. They are works of art, finished in one pervading +style, which revealed the freedom and judicious choice of their +author. If the formation of a work throughout, even in its minutest +parts, in conformity with a leading idea; if the domination of one +animating spirit over all the means of execution, deserves the name of +correctness (and this, excepting in matters of grammar, is the only +proper sense of the term); we shall then, after allowing to +Shakespeare all the higher qualities which demand our admiration, be +also compelled, in most cases, to concede to him the title of a +correct poet. + +It would be in the highest degree instructive to follow, if we could, +in his career step by step, an author who at once founded and carried +his art to perfection, and to go through his works in the order of +time. But, with the exception of a few fixed points, which at length +have been obtained, all the necessary materials for this are still +wanting. The diligent Malone has, indeed, made an attempt to arrange +the plays of Shakespeare in chronological order; but he himself gives +out only the result of his labors as hypothetical, and it could not +possibly be attended with complete success, since he excluded from his +inquiry a considerable number of pieces which have been ascribed to +the poet, though rejected as spurious by all the editors since Rowe, +but which, in my opinion, must, if not wholly, at least in great +measure be attributed to him. + + + + +_FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL_ + + * * * * * + +INTRODUCTION TO LUCINDA + +By CALVIN THOMAS + +Professor of Germanic Languages and Literatures, Columbia University + +Friedrich Schlegel's _Lucinda_, published in 1799, was an explosion of +youthful radicalism--a rather violent explosion which still +reverberates in the histories of German Romanticism. It is a book +about the metaphysics of love and marriage, the emancipation of the +flesh, the ecstasies and follies of the enamored state, the nature and +the rights of woman, and other such matters of which the world was +destined to hear a great deal during the nineteenth century. Not by +accident, but by intention, the little book was shocking, formless, +incoherent--a riot of the ego without beginning, middle, or end. Now +and then it passed the present limits of the printable in its +exploitation of the improper and the unconventional. + +Yet the book was by no means the wanton freak of a prurient +imagination; it had a serious purpose and was believed by its author +to present the essentials of a new and beautiful theory of life, art +and religion. The great Schleiermacher, one of the profoundest of +German theologians and an eloquent friend of religion, called +_Lucinda_ a "divine book" and its author a "priest of love and +wisdom." "Everything in this work," he declared, "is at once human and +divine; a magic air of divinity rises from its deep springs and +permeates the whole temple." Today no man in his senses would praise +the book in such terms. Yet, with all its crudities of style and its +aberrations of taste, _Lucinda_ reveals, not indeed the whole form and +pressure of the epoch that gave it birth, but certain very interesting +aspects of it. + +[Illustration: #FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL# E. HADER] + +Then, too, it marks a curious stage in the development of the +younger Schlegel, a really profound thinker and one of the notable men +of his day. This explains why a considerable portion of the much +discussed book is here presented for the first time in an English +dress. + +The earliest writings of Friedrich Schlegel--he was born in +1772--relate to Greek literature, a field which he cultivated with +enthusiasm and with ample learning. In particular he was interested in +what his Greek poets and philosophers had to say of the position of +women in society; of the _hetairai_ as the equal and inspiring +companions of men; of a more or less refined sexual love, untrammeled +by law and convention, as the basis of a free, harmonious and +beautiful existence. Among other things, he seems to have been much +impressed by Plato's notion that the _genus homo_ was one before it +broke up into male and female, and that sexual attraction is a desire +to restore the lost unity. In a very learned essay _On Diotima_, +published in 1797--Diotima is the woman of whose relation to Socrates +we get a glimpse in Plato's _Symposium_--there is much that +foreshadows _Lucinda_. Let two or three sentences suffice. "What is +uglier than the overloaded femininity, what is more loathesome than +the exaggerated masculinity, that rules in our customs, our opinions, +and even in our better art?" "Precisely the tyrannical vehemence of +the man, the flabby self-surrender of the woman, is in itself an ugly +exaggeration." "Only the womanhood that is independent, only the +manhood that is gentle, is good and beautiful." + +In 1796 Friedrich Schlegel joined his brother at Jena, where Fichte +was then expounding his philosophy. It was a system of radical +idealism, teaching that the only reality is the absolute Ego, whose +self-assertion thus becomes the fundamental law of the world. The +Fichtean system had not yet been fully worked out in its metaphysical +bearings, but the strong and engaging personality of its author gave +it, for a little while, immense prestige and influence. To Friedrich +Schlegel it seemed the gospel of a new era sort of French Revolution +in philosophy. Indeed he proclaimed that the three greatest events of +the century were the French Revolution, Fichte's philosophy, and +Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_. This last, which appeared in 1796 and +contained obvious elements of autobiography, together with poems and +disquisitions on this and that, was admired by him beyond all measure. +He saw in it the exemplar and the program of a wonderful new art which +he proposed to call "Romantic Poetry." + +But gray theory would never have begotten _Lucinda_. Going to Berlin +in 1797, Schlegel made the acquaintance of Dorothea Veit, daughter of +Moses Mendelsohn and wife of a Berlin banker. She was nine years his +senior. A strong attachment grew up between them, and presently the +lady was persuaded to leave her husband and become the paramour of +Schlegel. Even after the divorce was obtained Schlegel refused for +some time to be married in church, believing that he had a sort of +duty to perform in asserting the rights of passion over against social +convention. For several years the pair lived in wild wedlock before +they were regularly married. In 1808 they both joined the Catholic +Church, and from that time on nothing more was heard of Friedrich +Schlegel's radicalism. He came to hold opinions which were for the +most part the exact opposite of those he had held in his youth. The +vociferous friend of individual liberty became a reactionary champion +of authority. Of course he grew ashamed of _Lucinda_ and excluded it +from his collected works. + +Such was the soil in which the naughty book grew. It was an era of lax +ideas regarding the marriage tie. Wilhelm Schlegel married a divorced +woman who was destined in due time to transfer herself without legal +formalities to Schelling. Goethe had set the example by his conscience +marriage with Christiane Vulpius. It remains only to be said that the +most of Friedrich Schlegel's intimates, including his brother Wilhelm, +advised against the publication of _Lucinda_. But here, as in the +matter of his marriage, the author felt that he had a duty to +perform: it was necessary to declare independence of Mrs. Grundy's +tyranny and shock people for their own good. But the reader of today +will feel that the worst shortcomings of the book are not its +immoralities, but its sins against art. + +It will be observed that while _Lucinda_ was called by its author a +"novel," it hardly deserves that name. There is no story, no +development of a plot. The book consists of disconnected glimpses in +the form of letters, disquisitions, rhapsodies, conversations, etc., +each with a more or less suggestive heading. Two of these +sections--one cannot call them chapters--are omitted in the +translation, namely, "Allegory of Impudence" and, "Apprenticeship of +Manhood." + + + + +LUCINDA (1799) + +By FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL BERNARD THOMAS + +PROLOGUE + +Smiling with emotion Petrarch opens the collection of his immortal +romanzas with a prefatory survey. The clever Boccaccio talks with +flattering courtesy to all women, both at the beginning and at the end +of his opulent book. The great Cervantes too, an old man in agony, but +still genial and full of delicate wit, drapes the motley spectacle of +his lifelike writings with the costly tapestry of a preface, which in +itself is a beautiful and romantic painting. + +Uproot a stately plant from its fertile, maternal soil, and there will +still cling lovingly to it much that can seem superfluous only to a +niggard. + +But what shall my spirit bestow upon its offspring, which, like its +parent, is as poor in poesy as it is rich in love? + +Just one word, a parting trope: It is not alone the royal eagle who +may despise the croaking of the raven; the swan, too, is proud and +takes no note of it. Nothing concerns him except to keep clean the +sheen of his white pinions. He thinks only of nestling against Leda's +bosom without hurting her, and of breathing forth into song everything +that is mortal within him. + +[Illustration: #THE CREATION# _From the Painting by Moritz von +Schwind_] + +CONFESSIONS OF AN AWKWARD MAN + +JULIUS TO LUCINDA + +Human beings and what they want and do, seemed to me, when I thought +of it, like gray, motionless figures; but in the holy solitude all +around me everything was light and color. A fresh, warm breath of life +and love fanned me, rustling and stirring in all the branches of the +verdant grove. I gazed and enjoyed it all, the rich green, the white +blossoms and the golden fruit. And in my mind's eye I saw, too, in +many forms, my one and only Beloved, now as a little girl, now as a +young lady in the full bloom and energy of love and womanhood, and now +as a dignified mother with her demure babe in her arms. I breathed the +spring and I saw clearly all about me everlasting youth. Smiling I +said to myself: "Even if this world is not the best and most useful of +places, it is certainly the most beautiful." + +From this feeling or thought nothing could have turned me, neither +general despair nor personal fear. For I believed that the deep +secrets of nature were being revealed to me; I felt that everything +was immortal and that death was only a pleasant illusion. But I really +did not think very much about it, since I was not particularly in a +mood for mental synthesis and analysis. But I gladly lost myself in +all those blendings and intertwinings of joy and pain from which +spring the spice of life and the flower of feeling--spiritual pleasure +as well as sensual bliss. A subtle fire flowed through my veins. What +I dreamed was not of kissing you, not of holding you in my arms; it +was not only the wish to relieve the tormenting sting of my desire, +and to cool the sweet fire by gratification. It was not for your lips +that I longed, or for your eyes, or for your body; no, it was a +romantic confusion of all of these things, a marvelous mingling of +memories and desires. All the mysteries of caprice in man and woman +seemed to hover about me, when suddenly in my solitude your real +presence and the glowing rapture in your face completely set me afire. +Wit and ecstasy now began their alternating play, and were the common +pulse of our united life. There was no less abandon than religion in +our embrace. I besought you to yield to my frenzy and implored you to +be insatiable. And yet with calm presence of mind I watched for the +slightest sign of joy in you, so that not one should escape me to +impair the harmony. I not only enjoyed, but I felt and enjoyed the +enjoyment. + +You are so extraordinarily clever, dearest Lucinda, that you have +doubtless long ere this begun to suspect that this is all nothing but +a beautiful dream. And so, alas, it is; and I should indeed feel very +disconsolate about it if I could not cherish the hope that at least a +part of it may soon be realized. The truth of the matter is this: Not +long ago I was standing by the window--how long I do not know, for +along with the other rules of reason and morality, I completely forgot +about the lapse of time. Well, I was standing by the window and +looking out into the open; the morning certainly deserves to be called +beautiful, the air is still and quite warm, and the verdure here +before me is fresh. And even as the wide land undulates in hills and +dales, so the calm, broad, silvery river winds along in great bends +and sweeps, until it and the lover's fantasy, cradled upon it like the +swan, pass away into the distance and lose themselves in the +immeasurable. My vision doubtless owes the grove and its southern +color-effect to the huge mass of flowers here beside me, among which I +see a large number of oranges. All the rest is readily explained by +psychology. It was an illusion, dear friend, all an illusion, all +except that, not long ago, I was standing, by the window and doing +nothing, and that I am now sitting here and doing something--something +which is perhaps little more than nothing, perhaps even less. + +I had written thus far to you about the things I had said to myself, +when, in the midst of my tender thoughts and profound feelings about +the dramatic connection of our embraces, a coarse and unpleasant +occurrence interrupted me. I was just on the point of unfolding to you +in clear and precise periods the exact and straightforward history of +our frivolities and of my dulness. I was going to expound to you, step +by step, in accordance with natural laws, the misunderstandings that +attack the hidden centre of the loveliest existence, and to confess to +you the manifold effects of my awkwardness. I was about to describe +the apprenticeship of my manhood, a period which, taken as a whole or +in parts, I can never look back upon without a great deal of inward +amusement, a little melancholy, and considerable self-satisfaction. +Still, as a refined lover and writer, I will endeavor to refashion the +coarse occurrence and adapt it to my purpose. For me and for this +book, however, for my love of it and for its inner development, there +is no better adaptation of means to ends than this, namely, that right +at the start I begin by abolishing what we call orderly arrangement, +keep myself entirely aloof from it, frankly claiming and asserting the +right to a charming confusion. This is all the more necessary, +inasmuch as the material which our life and love offers to my spirit +and to my pen is so incessantly progressive and so inflexibly +systematic. If the form were also of that character, this, in its way, +unique letter would then acquire an intolerable unity and monotony, +and would no longer produce the desired effect, namely, to fashion and +complete a most lovely chaos of sublime harmonies and interesting +pleasures. So I use my incontestable right to a confused style by +inserting here, in the wrong place, one of the many incoherent sheets +which I once filled with rubbish, and which you, good creature, +carefully preserved without my knowing it. It was written in a mood of +impatient longing, due to my not finding you where I most surely +expected to find you--in your room, on our sofa--in the haphazard +words suggested by the pen you had lately been using. + +The selection is not difficult. For since, among the dreamy fancies +which are here confided to you in permanent letters, the recollection +of this most beautiful world is the most significant, and has a +certain sort of resemblance to what they call thought, I choose in +preference to anything else a dithyrambic fantasy on the most lovely +of situations. For once we know to a certainty that we live in a most +beautiful world, the next need is obvious, namely, to inform ourselves +fully, either through ourselves or through others, about the most +lovely situation in this most beautiful world. + + +DITHYRAMBIC FANTASY ON THE LOVELIEST OF SITUATIONS + +A big tear falls upon the holy sheet which I found here instead of +you. How faithfully and how simply you have sketched it, the old and +daring idea of my dearest and most intimate purpose! In you it has +grown up, and in this mirror I do not shrink from loving and admiring +myself. Only here I see myself in harmonious completeness. For your +spirit, too, stands distinct and perfect before me, not as an +apparition which appears and fades away again, but as one of the forms +that endure forever. It looks at me joyously out of its deep eyes and +opens its arms to embrace my spirit. The holiest and most evanescent +of those delicate traits and utterances of the soul, which to one who +does not know the highest seem like bliss itself, are merely the +common atmosphere of our spiritual breath and life. + +The words are weak and vague. Furthermore, in this throng of +impressions I could only repeat anew the one inexhaustible feeling of +our original harmony. A great future beckons me on into the +immeasurable; each idea develops a countless progeny. The extremes of +unbridled gayety and of quiet presentiment live together within me. I +remember everything, even the griefs, and all my thoughts that have +been and are to be bestir themselves and arise before me. The blood +rushes wildly through my swollen veins, my mouth thirsts for the +contact of your lips, and my fancy seeks vainly among the many forms +of joy for one which might at last gratify my desire and give it rest. +And then again I suddenly and sadly bethink me of the gloomy time when +I was always waiting without hope, and madly loving without knowing +it; when my innermost being overflowed with a vague longing, which it +breathed forth but rarely in half-suppressed sighs. + +Oh, I should have thought it all a fairy-tale that there could be such +joy, such love as I now feel, and such a woman, who could be my most +tender Beloved, my best companion, and at the same time a perfect +friend. For it was in friendship especially that I sought for what I +wanted, and for what I never hoped to find in any woman. In you I +found it all, and more than I could wish for; but you are so unlike +the rest. Of what custom or caprice calls womanly, you know nothing. +The womanliness of your soul, aside from minor peculiarities, consists +in its regarding life and love as the same thing. For you all feeling +is infinite and eternal; you recognize no separations, your being is +an indivisible unity. That is why you are so serious and so joyous, +why you regard everything in such a large and indifferent way; that is +why you love me, all of me, and will surrender no part of me to the +state, to posterity, or to manly pleasures. I am all yours; we are +closest to each other and we understand each other. You accompany me +through all the stages of manhood, from the utmost wantonness to the +most refined spirituality. In you alone I first saw true pride and +true feminine humility. + +The most extreme suffering, if it is only surrounded, without +separating us, would seem to me nothing but a charming antithesis to +the sublime frivolity of our marriage. Why should we not take the +harshest whim of chance for an excellent jest and a most frolicsome +caprice, since we, like our love, are immortal? I can no longer say +_my_ love and _your_ love; they are both alike in their perfect +mutuality. Marriage is the everlasting unity and alliance of our +spirits, not only for what we call this world and that world, but for +the one, true, indivisible, nameless, endless world of our entire +being, so long as we live. Therefore, if it seemed the proper time, I +would drain with you a cup of poison, just as gladly and just as +easily as that last glass of champagne we drank together, when I said: +"And so let us drink out the rest of our lives." With these words I +hurriedly quaffed the wine, before its noble spirit ceased to sparkle. +And so I say again, let us live and love. I know you would not wish to +survive me; you would rather follow your dying husband into his +coffin. Gladly and lovingly would you descend into the burning abyss, +even as the women of India do, impelled by a mad law, the cruel, +constraining purpose of which desecrates and destroys the most +delicate sanctities of the will. + +On the other side, perhaps, longing will be more completely realized. +I often wonder over it; every thought, and whatever else is fashioned +within us, seems to be complete in itself, as single and indivisible +as a person. One thing crowds out another, and that which just now was +near and present soon sinks back into obscurity. And then again come +moments of sudden and universal clarity, when several such spirits of +the inner world completely fuse together into a wonderful wedlock, and +many a forgotten bit of our ego shines forth in a new light and even +illuminates the darkness of the future with its bright lustre. As it +is in a small way, so is it also, I think, in a large way. That which +we call a life is for the complete, inner, immortal man only a single +idea, an indivisible feeling. And for him there come, too, moments of +the profoundest and fullest consciousness, when all lives fall +together and mingle and separate in a different way. The time is +coming when we two shall behold in one spirit that we are blossoms of +one plant, or petals of one flower. We shall then know with a smile +that what we now call merely hope was really memory. + +Do you know how the first seed of this idea germinated in my soul +before you and took root in yours? Thus does the religion of love +weave our love ever and ever more closely and firmly together, just as +a child, like an echo, doubles the happiness of its gentle parents. + +Nothing can part us; and certainly any separation would only draw me +more powerfully to you. I bethink me how at our last embrace, you +vehemently resisting, I burst into simultaneous tears and laughter. I +tried to calm myself, and in a sort of bewilderment I would not +believe that I was separated from you until the surrounding objects +convinced me of it against my will. But then my longing grew again +irresistible, until on its wings I sank back into your arms. Suppose +words or a human being to create a misunderstanding between us! The +poignant grief would be transient and quickly resolve itself into +complete harmony. How could separation separate us, when presence +itself is to us, as it were, too present? We have to cool and mitigate +the consuming fire with jests, and thus for us the most witty of the +forms and situations of joy is also the most beautiful. One among all +is at once the wittiest and the loveliest: when we exchange rôles and +with childish delight try to see who can best imitate the other; +whether you succeed best with the tender vehemence of a man, or I with +the yielding devotion of a woman. But, do you know, this sweet game +has for me quite other charms than its own. It is not merely the +delight of exhaustion or the anticipation of revenge. I see in it a +wonderful and profoundly significant allegory of the development of +man and woman into complete humanity. * * * + + * * * * * + +That was my dithyrambic fantasy on the loveliest situation in the +loveliest of worlds. I know right well what you thought of it and how +you took it at that time. And I think I know just as well what you +will think of it and how you will take it here, here in this little +book, in which you expect to find genuine history, plain truth and +calm reason; yes, even morality, the charming morality of love. "How +can a man wish to write anything which it is scarcely permissible to +talk about, which ought only to be felt?" I replied: "If a man feels +it, he must wish to talk about it, and what a man wishes to talk about +he may write." + +I wanted first to demonstrate to you that there exists in the original +and essential nature of man a certain awkward enthusiasm which likes +to utter boldly that which is delicate and holy, and sometimes falls +headlong over its own honest zeal and speaks a word that is divine to +the point of coarseness. + +This apology would indeed save me, but perhaps only at the enormous +expense of my manhood itself; for whatever you may think of my manhood +in particular, you have nevertheless a great deal against the sex in +general. Meantime I will by no means make common cause with them, but +will rather excuse and defend my liberty and audacity by means of the +example of the little innocent Wilhelmina, since she too is a lady +whom I love most tenderly. So I will straightway attempt a little +sketch of her character. + +SKETCH OF LITTLE WILHELMINA + +When one regards the remarkable child, not from the viewpoint of any +one-sided theory, but, as is proper, in a large, impartial way, one +can boldly say--and it is perhaps the best thing one could possibly +say of her--that for her years she is the cleverest person of her +time. And that is indeed saying a great deal; for how seldom do we +find harmonious culture in people two years old? The strongest of the +many strong proofs of her inward perfection is her serene +self-complacency. After she has eaten she always spreads both her +little arms out on the table, and resting her cunning head on them +with amusing seriousness, she makes big eyes and casts cute glances at +the family all around her. Then she straightens up and with the most +vivid expression of irony on her face, smiles at her own cuteness and +our inferiority. She is full of buffoonery and has a nice +appreciation of it. When I imitate her gestures, she immediately +copies my imitation; thus we have created a mimic language of our own +and make each other understand by means of pantomime hieroglyphics. + +For poetry, I think, she has far more inclination than for philosophy; +so also she likes to ride better than to walk, which last she does +only in case of necessity. The ugly cacophony of our mother-tongue +here in the north melts on her tongue into the sweet and mellow +euphony of Italian and Hindu speech. She is especially fond of rhymes, +as of everything else that is beautiful; she never grows tired of +saying and singing over and over again to herself, one after the +other, all her favorite little verses--as it were, a classic selection +of her little pleasures. Poetry binds the blossoms of all things +together into a light garland, and so little Wilhelmina talks in rhyme +about regions, times, events, persons, toys and things to eat--all +mixed together in a romantic chaos, every word a picture. And she does +all that without any qualifications or artistic transitions, which +after all only aid the understanding and impede the free flight of the +fancy. + +For her fancy everything in nature is alive and animate. I often +recall with pleasure the first time she ever saw and felt of a doll. +She was not more than a year old. A divine smile lighted up her little +face, as she pressed an affectionate kiss on the painted wooden lips. +Surely there lies deep in the nature of man an impulse to eat anything +he loves, to lift to his mouth every new object and there, if +possible, reduce it to its original, constituent parts. A wholesome +thirst for knowledge impels him to seize the object, penetrate into +its interior and bite it to pieces. On the other hand, touching stops +at the surface, while grasping affords only imperfect, mediate +knowledge. Nevertheless it is a very interesting spectacle, when a +bright child catches sight of another child, to watch her feel of it +and strive to orient herself by means of those antennae of the reason. +The strange baby creeps quietly away and hides himself, while the +little philosopher follows him up and goes busily on with her manual +investigation. + +But, to be sure, mind, wit and originality are just as rare in +children as in adults. All this, however, does not belong here, and is +leading me beyond the bounds of my purpose. For this sketch proposes +merely to portray an ideal, an ideal which I would ever keep before my +eyes, so that in this little artistic volume of beautiful and elegant +philosophy I may not wander away from the delicate line of propriety; +and so that you will forgive me in advance for the audacious liberties +that I am going to take, or at least you will be able to judge them +from a higher viewpoint. + +Am I wrong, think you, in seeking for morality in children--for +delicacy and prettiness of thought and word? + +Now look! Dear little Wilhelmina often finds inexpressible delight in +lying on her back and kicking her little legs in the air, unconcerned +about her clothes or about the judgment of the world. If Wilhelmina +does that, what is there that I may not do, since I, by Heaven, am a +man and under no obligation to be more modest than this most modest of +all feminine creatures? Oh, enviable freedom from prejudice! Do you, +too, dear friend, cast it from you, all the remnants of false modesty; +just as I have often torn off your odious clothes and scattered them +about in lovely anarchy. And if, perhaps, this little romance of my +life should seem to you too wild, just think to yourself: He is only a +child--and take his innocent wantonness with motherly forbearance and +let him caress you. + +If you will not be too particular about the plausibility and inner +significance of an allegory, and are prepared for as much awkwardness +in it as one might expect in the confessions of an awkward man, +provided only that the costume is correct, I should like to relate to +you here one of my waking dreams, inasmuch as it leads to the same +result as my sketch of little Wilhelmina.[31] + +AN IDYL OF IDLENESS + +"Behold, I am my own teacher, and a god hath planted all sorts of +melodies in my soul." This I may boldly say, now that I am not talking +about the joyous science of poetry, but about the godlike art of +idleness. And with whom indeed should I rather talk and think about +idleness than with myself. So I spoke also in that immortal hour when +my guardian genius inspired me to preach the high gospel of true joy +and love: "Oh, idleness, idleness! Thou art the very soul of innocence +and inspiration. The blessed spirits do breathe thee, and blessed +indeed is he who hath and cherisheth thee, thou sacred jewel, thou +sole and only fragment of godlikeness brought forth by us from +Paradise." + +When I thus communed with myself I was sitting, like a pensive maiden +in a thoughtless romance, by the side of a brook, watching the +wavelets as they passed. They flowed by as smooth and quiet and +sentimental as if Narcissus were about to see his reflection on the +clear surface and become intoxicated with beautiful egoism. They might +also have enticed me to lose myself deeper and deeper in the inner +perspective of my mind, were not my nature so perpetually unselfish +and practical that even my speculations never concern themselves about +anything but the general good. So I fell to thinking, among other +things, while my mind was relaxed by a comfortable laziness and my +limbs by the powerful heat, of the possibility of a lasting embrace. I +thought out ways of prolonging the time of our being together and of +avoiding in the future those childishly pathetic expressions of pain +over sudden parting, and of finding pleasure, as hitherto, in the +comic side of Fate's inevitable and unchangeable decree that separate +we must. And only after the power of my reason, laboring over the +unattainableness of my ideal, broke and relaxed, did I give myself +over to a stream of thoughts. I listened eagerly to all the motley +fairy-tales with which imagination and desire, like irresistible +sirens in my breast, charmed my senses. It did not occur to me to +criticise the seductive illusion as ignoble, although I well knew that +it was for the most part a beautiful lie. The soft music of the +fantasy seemed to fill the gaps in my longing. I gratefully observed +this and resolved to repeat for us in the future by my own +inventiveness that which good fortune had given me, and to begin for +you this poem of truth. And thus the original germ of this wonderful +growth of caprice and love came into being. And just as freely as it +sprouted did I intend it should grow up and run wild; and never from +love of order and economy shall I trim off any of its profuse +abundance of superfluous leaves and shoots. + +Like a wise man of the East, I had fallen into a holy lethargy and +calm contemplation of the everlasting substances, more especially of +yours and mine. Greatness in repose, most people say, is the highest +aim of plastic art. And so, without any distinct purpose and without +any unseemly effort, I thought out and bodied forth our everlasting +substances in this dignified style. I looked back and saw how gentle +sleep overcame us in the midst of our embrace. Now and then one of us +would open an eye, smile at the sweet slumber of the other, and wake +up just enough to venture a jesting remark and a gentle caress. But +ere the wanton play thus begun was ended, we would both sink back into +the blissful lap of half-conscious self-forgetfulness. + +With the greatest indignation I then thought of the bad men who would +abolish sleep. They have probably never slept, and likewise never +lived. Why are gods gods, except because they deliberately do nothing; +because they understand that art and are masters of it? And how the +poets, the sages and the saints strive to be like the gods, in that +respect as in others! How they vie with one another in praise of +solitude, of leisure, of liberal freedom from care and of inactivity! +And they are right in doing so; for everything that is good and +beautiful in life is already there and maintains itself by its own +strength. Why then this vague striving and pushing forward without +rest or goal? Can this storm and stress give form and nourishing juice +to the everliving plant of humankind, that grows and fashions itself +in quiet? This empty, restless activity is only a bad habit of the +north and brings nothing but ennui for oneself and for others. And +with what does it begin and end except with antipathy to the world in +general, which is now such a common feeling? Inexperienced vanity does +not suspect that it indicates only lack of reason and sense, but +regards it as a high-minded discontent with the universal ugliness of +the world and of life, of which it really has not yet the slightest +presentiment. It could not be otherwise; for industry and utility are +the death-angels which, with fiery swords, prevent the return of man +into Paradise. Only when composed and at ease in the holy calm of true +passivity can one think over his entire being and get a view of life +and the world. + +How is it that we think and compose at all, except by surrendering +ourselves completely to the influence of some genius? Speaking and +fashioning are after all only incidentals in all arts and sciences; +thinking and imagining are the essentials, and they are only possible +in a passive state. To be sure it is intentional, arbitrary, +one-sided, but still a passive state. The more beautiful the climate +we live in, the more passive we are. Only the Italians know what it is +to walk, and only the Orientals to recline. And where do we find the +human spirit more delicately and sweetly developed than in India? +Everywhere it is the privilege of being idle that distinguishes the +noble from the common; it is the true principle of nobility. Finally, +where is the greater and more lasting enjoyment, the greater power and +will to enjoy? Among women, whose nature we call passive, or among +men, in whom the transition from sudden wrath to ennui is quicker than +that from good to evil? + +Satisfied with the enjoyment of my existence, I proposed to raise +myself above all its finite, and therefore contemptible, aims and +objects. Nature itself seemed to confirm me in this undertaking, and, +as it were, to exhort me in many-voiced choral songs to further +idleness. And now suddenly a new vision presented itself. I imagined +myself invisible in a theatre. On one side I saw all the well-known +boards, lights and painted scenery; on the other a vast throng of +spectators, a veritable ocean of curious faces and sympathetic eyes. +In the foreground, on the right, was Prometheus, in the act of +fashioning men. He was bound by a long chain and was working very fast +and very hard. Beside him stood several monstrous fellows who were +constantly whipping and goading him on. There was also an abundance of +glue and other materials about, and he was getting fire out of a large +coal-pan. On the other side was a figure of the deified Hercules, with +Hebe in his lap. On the stage in the foreground a crowd of youthful +forms were laughing and running about, all of whom were very happy and +did not merely seem to live. The youngest looked like amorettes, the +older ones like images of women. But each one of them had his own +peculiar manner and a striking originality of expression; and they all +bore a certain resemblance to the Christian painters' and poets' idea +of the devil--one might have called them little Satans. One of the +smallest said: + +"He who does not despise, cannot respect; one can only do either +boundlessly, and good tone consists only in playing with men. And so +is not a certain amount of malice an essential part of harmonious +culture?" + +"Nothing is more absurd," said another, "than when the moralists +reproach you about your egoism. They are altogether wrong; for what +god, who is not his own god, can deserve respect from man? You are, to +be sure, mistaken in thinking that you have an ego; but if, in the +meantime, you identify it with your body, your name and your property, +you thereby at least make ready a place for it, in case by any chance +an ego should come." + +"And this Prometheus you can all hold in deep reverence," said one of +the tallest. "He has made you all and is constantly making more like +you." + +And in fact just as soon as each new man was finished, the devils put +him down with all the rest who were looking on, and immediately it was +impossible to distinguish him from the others, so much alike were they +all. + +"The mistake he makes is in his method," continued the Sataniscus. +"How can one want to do nothing but fashion men? Those are not the +right tools he has." + +And thereat he pointed to a rough figure of the God of the Gardens, +which stood in the back part of the stage between an Amor and a very +beautiful naked Venus. + +"In regard to that our friend Hercules had better views, who could +occupy fifty maidens in a single night for the welfare of humanity, +and all of them heroic maids too. He did those labors of his, too, and +slew many a furious monster. But the goal of his career was always a +noble leisure, and for that reason he has gained entrance to Olympus. +Not so, however, with this Prometheus, the inventor of education and +enlightenment. To him you owe it that you can never be quiet and are +always on the move. Hence it is also, when you have absolutely nothing +to do, that you foolishly aspire to develop character and observe and +study one another. It is a vile business. But Prometheus, for having +misled man to toil, now has to toil himself, whether he wants to or +not. He will soon get very tired of it, and never again will he be +freed from his chains." + +When the spectators heard this, they broke out into tears and jumped +upon the stage to assure their father of their heartfelt sympathy. And +thus the allegorical comedy vanished. + +CONSTANCY AND PLAY + +"Of course you are alone, Lucinda?" + +"I do not know--perhaps--I think--" + +"Please! please! dear Lucinda. You know very well that when little +Wilhelmina says 'please! please!' and you do not do at once what she +wants, she cries louder and louder until she gets her way." + +"So it was to tell me that that you rushed into my room so out of +breath and frightened me so?" + +"Do not be angry with me, sweet lady, I beg of you! Oh, my child! +Lovely creature! Be a good girl and do not reproach me!" + +"Well, I suppose you will soon be asking me to close the door?" + +"So? I will answer that directly. But first a nice long kiss, and then +another, and then some more, and after that more still." + +"Oh! You must not kiss me that way--if you want me to keep my senses! +It makes one think bad thoughts." + +"You deserve to. Are you really capable of laughing, my peevish lady? +Who would have thought so? But I know very well you laugh only because +you can laugh at me. You do not do it from pleasure. For who ever +looked so solemn as you did just now--like a Roman senator? And you +might have looked ravishing, dear child, with those holy dark eyes, +and your long black hair shining in the evening sunlight--if you had +not sat there like a judge on the bench. Heavens! I actually started +back when I saw how you were looking at me. A little more and I should +have forgotten the most important thing, and I am all confused. But +why do you not talk? Am I disagreeable to you?" + +"Well, that _is_ funny, you surly Julius. As if you ever let any one +say anything! Your tenderness flows today like a spring shower." + +"Like your talk in the night." + +"Oh sir, let my neckcloth be." + +"Let it be? Not a bit of it! What is the use of a miserable, stupid +neckcloth? Prejudice! Away with it!" + +"If only no one disturbs us!" + +"There she goes again, looking as if she wanted to cry! You are well, +are you not? What makes your heart beat so? Come, let me kiss it! Oh, +yes, you spoke a moment ago about closing the door. Very well, but not +that way, not here. Come, let us run down through the garden to the +summer-house, where the flowers are. Come! Oh, do not make me wait +so!" + +"As you wish, sir." + +"I cannot understand--you are so odd today." + +"Now, my dear friend, if you are going to begin moralizing, we might +just as well go back again. I prefer to give you just one more kiss +and run on ahead of you." + +"Oh, not so fast, Lucinda! My moralizing will not overtake you. You +will fall, love!" + +"I did not wish to make you wait any longer. Now we are here. And you +came pretty fast yourself." + +"And you are very obedient! But this is no time to quarrel." + +"Be still! Be still!" + +"See! Here is a soft, cosy place, with everything as it should be. +This time, if you do not--well, there will be no excuse for you." + +"Will you not at least lower the curtain first?" + +"You are right. The light will be much more charming so. How beautiful +your skin shines in the red light! Why are you so cold, Lucinda?" + +"Dearest, put the hyacinths further away, their odor sickens me." + +"How solid and firm, how soft and smooth! That is harmonious +development." + +"Oh no, Julius! Please don't! I beg of you! I will not allow it!" + +"May I not feel * * *. Oh, let me listen to the beating of your heart! +Let me cool my lips in the snow of your bosom! Do not push me away! I +will have my revenge! Hold me tighter! Kiss upon kiss! No, not a lot +of short ones! One everlasting one! Take my whole soul and give me +yours! Oh, beautiful and glorious Together! Are we not children? Tell +me! How could you be so cold and indifferent at first, and then +afterward draw me closer to you, making a face the while as if +something were hurting you, as if you were reluctant to return my +ardor? What is the matter? Are you crying? Do not hide your face! +Look at me, dearest!" + +"Oh, let me lie here beside you--I cannot look into your eyes. It was +very naughty of me, Julius! Can you ever forgive me, darling? You will +not desert me, will you? Can you still love me?" + +"Come to me, sweet lady--here, close to my heart. Do you remember how +nice it was, not long ago, when you cried in my arms, and how it +relieved you? Tell me what the matter is now. You are not angry with +me?" + +"I am angry with myself. I could beat myself! To be sure, it would +have served you right. And if ever again, sir, you conduct yourself so +like a husband, I shall take better care that you find me like a wife. +You may be assured of that. I cannot help laughing, it took me so by +surprise. But do not imagine, sir, that you are so terribly +lovable--this time it was by my own will that I broke my resolution." + +"The first will and the last is always the best. It is just because +women usually say less than they mean that they sometimes do more than +they intend. That is no more than right; good will leads you women +astray. Good will is a very nice thing, but the bad part of it is that +it is always there, even when you do not want it." + +"That is a beautiful mistake. But you men are full of bad will and you +persist in it." + +"Oh no! If we seem to be obstinate, it is only because we cannot be +otherwise, not because our will is bad. We cannot, because we do not +will properly. Hence it is not bad will, but lack of will. And to whom +is the fault attributable but to you women, who have such a +super-abundance of good will and keep it all to yourselves, unwilling +to share it with us. But it happened quite against my will that we +fell a-talking about will--I am sure I do not know why we are doing +it. Still, it is much better for me to vent my feelings by talking +than by smashing the beautiful chinaware. It gave me a chance to +recover from my astonishment over your unexpected compunction, your +excellent discourse, and your laudable resolution. Really, this is one +of the strangest pranks that you have ever given me the honor of +witnessing; so far as I can remember, it has been several weeks since +you have talked by daylight in such solemn and unctuous periods as you +used in your little sermon today. Would you mind translating your +meaning into prose?" + +"Really, have you forgotten already about yesterday evening and the +interesting company? Of course I did not know that." + +"Oh! And so that is why you are so out of sorts--because I talked with +Amalia too much?" + +"Talk as much as you please with anybody you please. But you must be +nice to me--that I insist on." + +"You spoke so very loud; the stranger was standing close by, and I was +nervous and did not know what else to do." + +"Except to be rude in your awkwardness." + +"Forgive me! I plead guilty. You know how embarrassed I am with you in +society. It always hurts me to talk with you in the presence of +others." + +"How nicely he manages to excuse himself!" + +"The next time do not pass it over! Look out and be strict with me. +But see what you have done! Isn't it a desecration? Oh no! It isn't +possible, it is more than that. You will have to confess it--you were +jealous." + +"All the evening you rudely forgot about me. I began to write it all +out for you today, but tore it up." + +"And then, when I came?" + +"Your being in such an awful hurry annoyed me." + +"Could you love me if I were not so inflammable and electric? Are you +not so too? Have you forgotten our first embrace? In one minute love +comes and lasts for ever, or it does not come at all. Or do you think +that joy is accumulated like money and other material things, by +consistent behavior? Great happiness is like music coming out of the +air--it appears and surprises us and then vanishes again." + +"And thus it was you appeared to me, darling! But you will not vanish, +will you? You shall not! I say it!" + +"I will not, I will stay with you now and for all time. Listen! I feel +a strong desire to hold a long discourse with you on jealousy. But +first we ought to conciliate the offended gods." + +"Rather, first the discourse and afterward the gods." + +"You are right, we are not yet worthy of them. It takes you a long +time to get over it after you have been disturbed and annoyed about +something. How nice it is that you are so sensitive!" + +"I am no more sensitive than you are--only in a different way." + +"Well then, tell me! I am not jealous--how does it happen that you +are?" + +"Am I, unless I have cause to be? Answer me that!" + +"I do not know what you mean." + +"Well, I am not really jealous. But tell me: What were you talking +about all yesterday evening?" + +"So? It is Amalia of whom you are jealous? Is it possible? That +nonsense? I did not talk about anything with her, and that was the +funny part of it. Did I not talk just as long with Antonio, whom a +short time ago I used to see almost every day?" + +"You want me to believe that you talk in the same way with the +coquettish Amalia that you do with the quiet, serious Antonio. Of +course! It is nothing more than a case of clear, pure friendship!" + +"Oh no, you must not believe that--I do not wish you to. That is not +true. How can you credit me with being so foolish? For it is a very +foolish thing indeed for two people of opposite sex to form and +conceive any such relation as pure friendship. In Amalia's case it is +nothing more than playing that I love her. I should not care anything +about her at all, if she were not a little coquettish. + +"Would that there were more like her in our circle! Just in fun, one +must really love all the ladies." + +"Julius, I believe you are going completely crazy!" + +"Now understand me aright--I do not really mean all of them, but all +of them who are lovable and happen to come one's way." + +"That is nothing more than what the French call _galanterie_ and +_coquetterie_." + +"Nothing more--except that I think of it as something beautiful and +clever. And then men ought to know what the ladies are doing and what +they want; and that is rarely the case. A fine pleasantry is apt to be +transformed in their hands into coarse seriousness." + +"This loving just in fun is not at all a funny thing to look at." + +"That is not the fault of the fun--it is just miserable jealousy. +Forgive me, dearest--I do not wish to get excited, but I must confess +that I cannot understand how any one can be jealous. For lovers do not +offend each other, but do things to please each other. Hence it must +come from uncertainty, absence of love, and unfaithfulness to oneself. +For me happiness is assured, and love is one with constancy. To be +sure, it is a different matter with people who love in the ordinary +way. The man loves only the race in his wife, the woman in her husband +only the degree of his ability and social position, and both love in +their children only their creation and their property. Under those +circumstances fidelity comes to be a merit, a virtue, and jealousy is +in order. For they are quite right in tacitly believing that there are +many like themselves, and that one man is about as good as the next, +and none of them worth very much." + +"You look upon jealousy, then, as nothing but empty vulgarity and lack +of culture." + +"Yes, or rather as mis-culture and perversity, which is just as bad or +still worse. According to that system the best thing for a man to do +is to marry of set purpose out of sheer obligingness and courtesy. +And certainly for such folk it must be no less convenient than +entertaining, to live out their lives together in a state of mutual +contempt. Women especially are capable of acquiring a genuine passion +for marriage; and when one of them finds it to her liking, it easily +happens that she marries half a dozen in succession, either +spiritually or bodily. And the opportunity is never wanting for a man +and wife to be delicate for a change, and talk a great deal about +friendship." + +"You used to talk as if you regarded us women as incapable of +friendship. Is that really your opinion?" + +"Yes, but the incapability, I think, lies more in the friendship than +in you. Whatever you love at all, you love indivisibly; for instance, +a sweetheart or a baby. With you even a sisterly relation would assume +this character." + +"You are right there." + +"For you friendship is too many-sided and one-sided. It has to be +absolutely spiritual and have definite, fixed bounds. This boundedness +would, only in a more refined way, be just as fatal to your character +as would sheer sensuality without love. For society, on the other +hand, it is too serious, too profound, too holy." + +"Cannot people, then, talk with each other regardless of whether they +are men or women?" + +"That might make society rather serious. At best, it might form an +interesting club. You understand what I mean: it would be a great +gain, if people could talk freely, and were neither too wild nor yet +too stiff. The finest and best part would always be lacking--that +which is everywhere the spirit and soul of good society--namely, that +playing with love and that love of play which, without the finer +sense, easily degenerates into jocosity. And for that reason I defend +the ambiguities too." + +"Do you do that in play or by way of joke?" + +"No! No! I do it in all seriousness." + +"But surely not as seriously and solemnly as Pauline and her lover?" + +"Heaven forbid! I really believe they would ring the church-bell when +they embrace each other, if it were only proper. Oh, it is true, my +friend, man is naturally a serious animal. We must work against this +shameful and abominable propensity with all our strength, and attack +it from all sides. To that end ambiguities are also good, except that +they are so seldom ambiguous. When they are not and allow only one +interpretation, that is not immoral, it is only obtrusive and vulgar. +Frivolous talk must be spiritual and dainty and modest, so far as +possible; for the rest as wicked as you choose." + +"That is well enough, but what place have your ambiguities in +society?" + +"To keep the conversations fresh, just as salt keeps food fresh. The +question is not _why_ we say them, but _how_ we say them. It would be +rude indeed to talk with a charming lady as if she were a sexless +Amphibium. It is a duty and an obligation to allude constantly to what +she is and is going to be. It is really a comical situation, +considering how indelicate, stiff and guilty society is, to be an +innocent girl." + +"That reminds me of the famous Buffo, who, while he was always making +others laugh, was so sad and solemn himself." + +"Society is a chaos which can be brought into harmonious order only by +wit. If one does not jest and toy with the elements of passion, it +forms thick masses and darkens everything." + +"Then there must be passion in the air here, for it is almost dark." + +"Surely you have closed your eyes, lady of my heart! Otherwise the +light in them would brighten the whole room." + +"I wonder, Julius, who is the more passionate, you or I?" + +"Both of us are passionate enough. If that were not so, I should not +want to live. And see! That is why I could reconcile myself to +jealousy. There is everything in love--friendship, pleasant +intercourse, sensuality, and even passion. Everything must be in it, +and one thing must strengthen, mitigate, enliven and elevate the +other." + +"Let me embrace you, darling." + +"But only on one condition can I allow you to be jealous. I have often +felt that a little bit of cultured and refined anger does not +ill-become a man. Perhaps it is the same way with you in regard to +jealousy." + +"Agreed! Then I do not have to abjure it altogether." + +"If only you always manifest it as prettily and as wittily as you did +today." + +"Did I? Well, if next time you get into so pretty and witty a passion +about it, I shall say so and praise you for it." + +"Are we not worthy now to conciliate the offended gods?" + +"Yes, if your discourse is entirely finished; otherwise give me the +rest." [32] + +METAMORPHOSES + +The childlike spirit slumbers in sweet repose, and the kiss of the +loving goddess arouses in him only light dreams. The rose of shame +tinges his cheek; he smiles and seems to open his lips, but he does +not awaken and he knows not what is going on within him. Not until +after the charm of the external world, multiplied and reinforced by an +inner echo, has completely permeated his entire being, does he open +his eyes, reveling in the sun, and recall to mind the magic world +which he saw in the gleam of the pale moonlight. The wondrous voice +that awakened him is still audible, but instead of answering him it +echoes back from external objects. And if in childish timidity he +tries to escape from the mystery of his existence, seeking the unknown +with beautiful curiosity, he hears everywhere only the echo of his own +longing. + +Thus the eye sees in the mirror of the river only the reflection of +the blue sky, the green banks, the waving trees, and the form of the +absorbed gazer. When a heart, full of unconscious love, finds itself +where it hoped to find love in return, it is struck with amazement. +But we soon allow ourselves to be lured and deceived by the charm of +the view into loving our own reflection. Then has the moment of +winsomeness come, the soul fashions its envelop again, and breathes +the final breath of perfection through form. The spirit loses itself +in its clear depth and finds itself again, like Narcissus, as a +flower. + +Love is higher than winsomeness, and how soon would the flower of +Beauty wither without the complementary birth of requited love. This +moment the kiss of Amor and Psyche is the rose of life. The inspired +Diotima revealed to Socrates only a half of love. Love is not merely a +quiet longing for the infinite; it is also the holy enjoyment of a +beautiful present. It is not merely a mixture, a transition from the +mortal to the immortal, but it is a complete union of both. There is a +pure love, an indivisible and simple feeling, without the slightest +interference of restless striving. Every one gives the same as he +takes, one just like the other, all is balanced and completed in +itself, like the everlasting kiss of the divine children. + +By the magic of joy the grand chaos of struggling forms dissolves into +a harmonious sea of oblivion. When the ray of happiness breaks in the +last tear of longing, Iris is already adorning the eternal brow of +heaven with the delicate tints of her many-colored rainbow. Sweet +dreams come true, and the pure forms of a new generation rise up out +of Lethe's waves, beautiful as Anadyomene, and exhibit their limbs in +the place of the vanished darkness. In golden youth and innocence time +and man change in the divine peace of nature, and evermore Aurora +comes back more beautiful than before. + +Not hate, as the wise say, but love, separates people and fashions the +world; and only in its light can we find this and observe it. Only in +the answer of its Thou can every I completely feel its endless unity. +Then the understanding tries to unfold the inner germ of godlikeness, +presses closer and closer to the goal, is full of eagerness to fashion +the soul, as an artist fashions his one beloved masterpiece. In the +mysteries of culture the spirit sees the play and the laws of caprice +and of life. The statue of Pygmalion moves; a joyous shudder comes +over the astonished artist in the consciousness of his own +immortality, and, as the eagle bore Ganymede, a divine hope bears him +on its mighty pinion up to Olympus. + +TWO LETTERS + +I + +Is it then really and truly so, what I have so often quietly wished +for and have never dared to express? I see the light of holy joy +beaming on your face, and you modestly give me the beautiful promise. +You are to be a mother! + +Farewell, Longing, and thou, gentle Grief, farewell; the world is +beautiful again. Now I love the earth, and the rosy dawn of a new +spring lifts its radiant head over my immortal existence. If I had +some laurel, I would bind it around your brow to consecrate you to new +and serious duties; for there begins now for you another life. +Therefore, give to me the wreath of myrtle. It befits me to adorn +myself with the symbol of youthful innocence, since I now wander in +Nature's Paradise. Hitherto all that held us together was love and +passion. Now Nature has united us more firmly with an indissoluble +bond. Nature is the only true priestess of joy; she alone knows how to +tie the nuptial knot, not with empty words that bring no blessing, but +with fresh blossoms and living fruits from the fullness of her power. +In the endless succession of new forms creating Time plaits the wreath +of Eternity, and blessed is he whom Fortune selects to be healthy and +bear fruit. We are not sterile flowers among other living beings; the +gods do not wish to exclude us from the great concatenation of living +things, and are giving us plain tokens of their will. + +So let us deserve our position in this beautiful world, let us bear +the immortal fruits which the spirit chooses to create, and let us +take our place in the ranks of humanity. I will establish myself on +the earth, I will sow and reap for the future as well as for the +present. I will utilize all my strength during the day, and in the +evening I will refresh myself in the arms of the mother, who will be +eternally my bride. Our son, the demure little rogue, will play around +us, and help me invent mischief at your expense. + + * * * * * + +You are right; we must certainly buy the little estate. I am glad that +you went right ahead with the arrangements, without waiting for my +decision. Order everything just as you please; but, if I may say so, +do not have it too beautiful, nor yet too useful, and, above all +things, not too elaborate. + +If you only arrange it all in accordance with your own judgment and do +not allow yourself to be talked into the proper and conventional, +everything will be quite right, and the way I want it to be; and I +shall derive immense enjoyment from the beautiful property. Hitherto I +have lived in a thoughtless way and without any feeling of ownership; +I have tripped lightly over the earth and have never felt at home on +it. Now the sanctuary of marriage has given me the rights of +citizenship in the state of nature. I am no longer suspended in the +empty void of general inspiration; I like the friendly restraint, I +see the useful in a new light, and find everything truly useful that +unites everlasting love with its object--in short everything that +serves to bring about a genuine marriage. External things imbue me +with profound respect, if, in their way, they are good for something; +and you will some day hear me enthusiastically praise the blessedness +of home and the merits of domesticity. + +I understand now your preference for country life, I like you for it +and feel as you do about it. I can no longer endure to see these +ungainly masses of everything that is corrupt and diseased in mankind; +and when I think about them in a general way they seem to me like wild +animals bound by a chain, so that they cannot even vent their rage +freely. In the country, people can live side by side without +offensively crowding one another. If everything were as it ought to +be, beautiful mansions and cosy cottages would there adorn the green +earth, as do the fresh shrubs and flowers, and create a garden worthy +of the gods. + +To be sure we shall find in the country the vulgarity that prevails +everywhere. There ought really to be only two social classes, the +culturing and the cultured, the masculine and the feminine; instead of +all artificial society, there should be a grand marriage of these two +classes and universal brotherhood of all individuals. In place of that +we see a vast amount of coarseness and, as an insignificant exception, +a few who are perverted by a wrong education. But in the open air the +one thing which is beautiful and good cannot be suppressed by the bad +masses and their show of omnipotence. + +Do you know what period of our love seems to me particularly +beautiful? To be sure, it is all beautiful and pure in my memory, and +I even think of the first days with a sort of melancholy delight. But +to me the most cherished period of all is the last few days, when we +were living together on the estate. Another reason for living again in +the country. + +One thing more. Do not have the grapevines trimmed too close. I say +this only because you thought they were growing too fast and +luxuriantly, and because it might occur to you to want a perfectly +clear view of the house on all sides. Also the green grass-plot must +stay as it is; that is where the baby is to crawl and play and roll +about. + +Is it not true that the pain my sad letter caused you is now entirely +compensated? In the midst of all these giddy joys and hopes I can no +longer torment myself with care. You yourself suffered no greater pain +from it than I. But what does that matter, if you love me, really love +me in your very heart, without any reservation of alien thought? What +pain were worth mentioning when we gain by it a deeper and more fervid +consciousness of our love? And so, I am sure, you feel about it too. +Everything I am telling you, you knew long ago. There is absolutely no +delight, no love in me, the cause of which does not lie concealed +somewhere in the depths of your being, you everlastingly blessed +creature! + +Misunderstandings are sometimes good, in that they lead us to talk of +what is holiest. The differences that now and then seem to arise are +not in us, not in either of us; they are merely between us and on the +surface, and I hope you will take this occasion to drive them off and +away from you. + +And what is the cause of such little repulsions except our mutual and +insatiable desire to love and be loved? And without this +insatiableness there is no love. We live and love to annihilation. And +if it is love that first develops us into true and perfect beings, +that is the very life of life, then it need not fear opposition any +more than it fears life itself or humanity; peace will come to it only +after the conflict of forces. + +I feel happy indeed that I love a woman who is capable of loving as +you do. "As you do" is a stronger expression than any superlative. How +can you praise my words, when I, without wishing to, hit upon some +that hurt you? I should like to say, I write too well to be able to +describe to you my inward state of mind. Oh, dearest! Believe me, +there is no question in you that has not its answer in me. Your love +cannot be any more everlasting than mine. Admirable, however, is your +beautiful jealousy of my fancy and its wild flights. That indicates +rightly the boundlessness of your constancy, and leads me to hope that +your jealousy is on the point of destroying itself by its own excess. + +This sort of fancy--committed to writing--is no longer needed. I shall +soon be with you. I am holier and more composed than I was. I can only +see you in my mind and stand always before you. You yourself feel +everything without my telling you, and beam with joy, thinking partly +of the man you love and partly of your baby. + + * * * * * + +Do you know, while I have been writing to you, no memory could have +profaned you; to me you are as everlastingly pure as the Holy Virgin +of the Immaculate Conception, and you have wanted nothing to make you +like the Madonna except the Child. Now you have that, now it is there +and a reality. I shall soon be carrying him on my arm, telling him +fairy-tales, giving him serious instruction and lessons as to how a +young man has to conduct himself in the world. + +And then my mind reverts to the mother. I give you an endless kiss; I +watch your bosom heave with longing, and feel the mysterious throbbing +of your heart. When we are together again we will think of our youth, +and I will keep the present holy. You are right indeed; one hour later +is infinitely later. + +It is cruel that I cannot be with you right now. From sheer impatience +I do all sorts of foolish things. From morning until night I do +nothing but rove around here in this glorious region. Sometimes I +hasten my steps, as if I had something terribly important to do, and +presently find myself in some place where I had not the least desire +to be. I make gestures as if I were delivering a forcible speech; I +think I am alone and suddenly find myself among people. Then I have to +smile when I realize how absent-minded I was. + +I cannot write very long either; pretty soon I want to go out again +and dream away the beautiful evening on the bank of the quiet stream. + +Today I forgot among other things that it was time to send my letter +off. Oh well, so much the more joy and excitement will you have when +you receive it. + + * * * * * + +People are really very good to me. They not only forgive me for not +taking any part in their conversation, but also for capriciously +interrupting it. In a quiet way they seem even to derive hearty +pleasure from my joy. Especially Juliana. I tell her very little about +you, but she has a good intuition and surmises the rest. Certainly +there is nothing more amiable than pure, unselfish delight in love. + +I really believe that I should love my friends here, even if they were +less admirable than they are. I feel a great change in my being, a +general tenderness and sweet warmth in all the powers of my soul and +spirit, like the beautiful exhaustion of the senses that follows the +highest life. And yet it is anything but weakness. On the contrary, I +know that from now on I shall be able to do everything pertaining to +my vocation with more liking and with fresher vigor. I have never felt +more confidence and courage to work as a man among men, to lead a +heroic life, and in joyous fraternal coöperation to act for eternity. + +That is my virtue; thus it becomes me to be like the gods. Yours is +gently to reveal, like Nature's priestess of joy, the mystery of love; +and, surrounded by worthy sons and daughters, to hallow this beautiful +life into a holy festival. + + * * * * * + +I often worry about your health. You dress yourself too lightly and +are fond of the evening air; those are dangerous habits and are not +the only ones which you must break. Remember that a new order of +things is beginning for you. Hitherto I have praised your frivolity, +because it was opportune and in keeping with the rest of your nature. +I thought it feminine for you to play with Fortune, to flout caution, +to destroy whole masses of your life and environment. Now, however, +there is something that you must always bear in mind, and regard +above everything else. You must gradually train yourself--in the +allegorical sense, of course. + + * * * * * + +In this letter everything is all mixed up in a motley confusion, just +as praying and eating and rascality and ecstasy are mixed up in life. +Well, good night. Oh, why is it that I cannot at least be with you in +my dreams--be really with you and dream in you. For when I merely +dream of you, I am always alone. You wonder why you do not dream of +me, since you think of me so much. Dearest, do you not also have your +long spells of silence about me? + + * * * * * + +Amalia's letter gave me great pleasure. To be sure, I see from its +flattering tone that she does not consider me as an exception to the +men who need flattery. I do not like that at all. It would not be fair +to ask her to recognize my worth in our way. It is enough that there +is one who understands me. In her way she appreciates my worth so +beautifully. I wonder if she knows what adoration is? I doubt it, and +am sorry for her if she does not. Aren't you? + + * * * * * + +Today in a French book about two lovers I came across the expression: +"They were the universe to each other." It struck me as at once +pathetic and comical, how that thoughtless phrase, put there merely as +a hyperbolical figure of speech, in our case was so literally true. +Still it is also literally true for a French passion of that kind. +They are the universe to each other, because they lose sense for +everything else. Not so with us. Everything we once loved we still +love all the more ardently. The world's meaning has now dawned upon +us. Through me you have learned to know the infinitude of the human +mind, and through you I have come to understand marriage and life, and +the gloriousness of all things. + +Everything is animate for me, speaks to me, and everything is holy. +When people love each other as we do, human nature reverts to its +original godliness. The pleasure of the lover's embrace becomes +again--what it is in general--the holiest marvel of Nature. And that +which for others is only something to be rightly ashamed of, becomes +for us, what in and of itself it is, the pure fire of the noblest +potency of life. + + * * * * * + +There are three things which our child shall certainly have--a great +deal of wanton spirit, a serious face, and a certain amount of +predisposition for art. Everything else I await with quiet +resignation. Son or daughter, as for that I have no special +preference. But about the child's bringing-up I have thought a great, +great deal. We must carefully avoid, I think, what is called +"education;" try harder to avoid it than, say, three sensible fathers +try, by anxious thought, to lace up their progeny from the very cradle +in the bands of narrow morality. + +I have made some plans which I think will please you. In doing so I +have carefully considered your ideas. But you must not neglect the +Art! For your daughter, if it should be a daughter, would you prefer +portrait-or landscape-painting? + + * * * * * + +You foolish girl, with your external things! You want to know what is +going on around me, and where and when and how I live and amuse +myself? Just look around you, on the chair beside you, in your arms, +close to your heart--that is where I am. Does not a ray of longing +strike you, creep up with sweet warmth to your heart, until it reaches +your mouth, where it would fain overflow in kisses? + +And now you actually boast because you write me such warm letters, +while I only write to you often, you pedantic creature. At first I +always think of you as you describe it--that I am walking with you, +looking at you, listening to you, talking with you. Then again it is +sometimes quite different, especially when I wake up at night. + +How can you have any doubt about the worthiness and divineness of +your letters? The last one sparkles and beams as if it had bright +eyes. It is not mere writing--it is music. I believe that if I were to +stay away from you a few more months, your style would become +absolutely perfect. Meanwhile I think it advisable for us to forget +about writing and style, and no longer to postpone the highest and +loveliest of studies. I have practically decided to set out in eight +days. + +II + +It is a remarkable thing that man does not stand in great awe of +himself. The children are justified, when they peep so curiously and +timidly at a company of unknown faces. Each individual atom of +everlasting time is capable of comprising a world of joy, and at the +same time of opening up a fathomless abyss of pain and suffering. I +understand now the old fairy-tale about the man whom the sorcerer +allowed to live a great many years in a few moments. For I know by my +own experience the terrible omnipotence of the fantasy. + +Since the last letter from your sister--it is three days now--I have +undergone the sufferings of an entire life, from the bright sunlight +of glowing youth to the pale moonlight of sagacious old age. Every +little detail she wrote about your sickness, taken with what I had +already gleaned from the doctor and had observed myself, confirmed my +suspicion that it was far more dangerous than you thought; indeed no +longer dangerous, but decided, past hope. Lost in this thought and my +strength entirely exhausted on account of the impossibility of +hurrying to your side, my state of mind was really very disconsolate. +Now for the first time I understand what it really was, being new-born +by the joyful news that you are well again. For you are well again +now, as good as entirely well--that I infer from all the reports, with +the same confidence with which a few days ago I pronounced our +death-sentence. + +I did not think of it as about to happen in the future, or even in +the present. Everything was already past. For a long time you had been +wrapt in the bosom of the cold earth; flowers had started to grow on +the beloved grave, and my tears had already begun to flow more gently. +Mute and alone I stood, and saw nothing but the features I had loved +and the sweet glances of the expressive eyes. The picture remained +motionless before me; now and then the pale face smiled and seemed +asleep, just as it had looked the last time I saw it. Then of a sudden +the different memories all became confused; with unbelievable rapidity +the outlines changed, reassumed their first form, and transformed +themselves again and again, until the wild vision vanished. Only your +holy eyes remained in the empty space and hung there motionless, even +as the friendly stars shine eternally over our poverty. I gazed +fixedly at the black lights, which shone with a well-known smile in +the night of my grief. Now a piercing pain from dark suns burned me +with an insupportable glare, now a beautiful radiance hovered about as +if to entice me. Then I seemed to feel a fresh breath of morning air +fan me; I held my head up and cried aloud: "Why should you torment +yourself? In a few minutes you can be with her!" + +I was already hastening to you, when suddenly a new thought held me +back and I said to my spirit: "Unworthy man, you cannot even endure +the trifling dissonances of this ordinary life, and yet you regard +yourself as ready for and worthy of a higher life? Go away and do and +suffer as your calling is, and then present yourself again when your +orders have been executed." + +Is it not to you also remarkable how everything on this earth moves +toward the centre, how orderly everything is, how insignificant and +trivial? So it has always seemed to me. And for that reason I +suspect--if I am not mistaken, I have already imparted my suspicion to +you--that the next life will be larger, and in the good as well as in +the bad, stronger, wilder, bolder and more tremendous. + +The duty of living had conquered, and I found myself again amid the +tumult of human life, and of my and its weak efforts and faulty deeds. +A feeling of horror came over me, as when a person suddenly finds +himself alone in the midst of immeasurable mountains of ice. +Everything about me and in me was cold and strange, and even my tears +froze. + +Wonderful worlds appeared and vanished before me in my uneasy dream. I +was sick and suffered great pain, but I loved my sickness and welcomed +the suffering. I hated everything earthly and was glad to see it all +punished and destroyed. I felt so alone and so strangely. And as a +delicate spirit often grows melancholy in the very lap of happiness +over its own joy, and at the very acme of its existence becomes +conscious of the futility of it all, so did I regard my suffering with +mysterious pleasure. I regarded it as the symbol of life in general; I +believed that I was seeing and feeling the everlasting discord by +means of which all things come into being and exist, and the lovely +forms of refined culture seemed dead and trivial to me in comparison +with this monstrous world of infinite strength and of unending +struggle and warfare, even into the most hidden depths of existence. + +On account of this remarkable feeling sickness acquired the character +of a peculiar world complete in itself. I felt that its mysterious +life was richer and deeper than the vulgar health of the dreaming +sleep-walkers all around me. And with the sickliness, which was not at +all unpleasant, this feeling also clung to me and completely separated +me from other men, just as I was sundered from the earth by the +thought that your nature and my love had been too sacred not to take +speedy flight from earth and its coarse ties. It seemed to me that all +was right so, and that your unavoidable death was nothing more than a +gentle awakening after a light sleep. + +I too thought that I was awake when I saw your picture, which evermore +transfigured itself into a cheerful diffused purity. Serious and yet +charming, quite you and yet no longer you, the divine form irradiated +by a wonderful light! Now it was like the terrible gleam of visible +omnipotence, now like a soft ray of golden childhood. With long, still +drafts my spirit drank from the cool spring of pure passion and became +secretly intoxicated with it. And in this blissful drunkenness I felt +a spiritual worthiness of a peculiar kind, because every earthly +sentiment was entirely strange to me, and the feeling never left me +that I was consecrated to death. + +The years passed slowly by, and deeds and works advanced laboriously +to their goal, one after the other--a goal that seemed as little mine +as the deeds and works seemed to be what they are called. To me they +were merely holy symbols, and everything brought me back to my one +Beloved, who was the mediatrix between my dismembered ego and the one +eternal and indivisible humanity; all existence was an uninterrupted +divine service of solitary love. + +Finally I became conscious that it was now nearly over. The brow was +no longer smooth and the locks were becoming gray. My career was +ended, but not completed. The best strength of life was gone, and +still Art and Virtue stood ever unattainable before me. I should have +despaired, had I not perceived and idolized both in you, gracious +Madonna, and you and your gentle godliness in myself. + +Then you appeared to me, beckoning with the summons of Death. An +earnest longing for you and for freedom seized me; I yearned for my +dear old fatherland, and was about to shake off the dust of travel, +when I was suddenly called back to life by the promise and reassurance +of your recovery. + +Then I became conscious that I had been dreaming; I shuddered at all +the significant suggestions and similarities, and stood anxiously by +the boundless deep of this inward truth. + +Do you know what has become most obvious to me as a result of it +all? First, that I idolize you, and that it is a good thing that I do +so. We two are one, and only in that way does a human being become one +and a complete entity, that is, by regarding and poetically conceiving +himself as the centre of everything and the spirit of the world. But +why poetically conceive, since we find the germ of everything in +ourselves, and yet remain forever only a fragment of ourselves? + +And then I now know that death can also be felt as beautiful and +sweet. I understand how the free creature can quietly long in the +bloom of all its strength for dissolution and freedom, and can +joyfully entertain the thought of return as a morning sun of hope. + +A REFLECTION + +It has often struck my mind how extraordinary it is that sensible and +dignified people can keep on, with such great seriousness and such +never-tiring industry, forever playing the little game in perpetual +rotation--a game which is of no use whatever and has no definite +object, although it is perhaps the earliest of all games. Then my +spirit inquired what Nature, who everywhere thinks so profoundly and +employs her cunning in such a large way, and who, instead of talking +wittily, behaves wittily, may think of those naïve intimations which +refined speakers designate only by their namelessness. + +And this namelessness itself has an equivocal significance. The more +modest and modern one is, the more fashionable does it become to put +an immodest interpretation upon it. For the old gods, on the contrary, +all life had a certain classic dignity whereby even the immodest +heroic art is rendered lifelike. The mass of such works and the great +inventive power displayed in them settles the question of rank and +nobility in the realm of mythology. + +This number and this power are all right, but they are not the +highest. Where does the longed-for ideal lie concealed? Or does the +aspiring heart evermore find in the highest of all plastic arts only +new manners and never a perfected style? + +Thinking has a peculiarity of its own in that, next to itself, it +loves to think about something which it can think about forever. For +that reason the life of the cultured and thinking man is a constant +study and meditation on the beautiful riddle of his destiny. He is +always defining it in a new way, for just that is his entire destiny, +to be defined and to define. Only in the search itself does the human +mind discover the secret that it seeks. + +But what, then, is it that defines or is defined? Among men it is the +nameless. And what is the nameless among women?--The Indefinite. + +The Indefinite is more mysterious, but the Definite has greater magic +power. The charming confusion of the Indefinite is more romantic, but +the noble refinement of the Definite has more of genius. The beauty of +the Indefinite is perishable, like the life of the flowers and the +everlasting youth of mortal feelings; the energy of the Definite is +transitory, like a genuine storm and genuine inspiration. + +Who can measure and compare two things which have endless worth, when +both are held together in the real Definiteness, which is intended to +fill all gaps and to act as mediator between the male and female +individual and infinite humanity? + +The Definite and the Indefinite and the entire abundance of their +definite and indefinite relations--that is the one and all, the most +wonderful and yet the simplest, the simplest and yet the highest. The +universe itself is only a toy of the Definite and the Indefinite; and +the real definition of the definable is an allegorical miniature of +the life and activity of ever-flowing creation. + +With everlasting immutable symmetry both strive in different ways to +get near to the Infinite and to escape from it. With light but sure +advances the Indefinite expands its native wish from the beautiful +centre of Finiteness into the boundless. Complete Definiteness, on the +other hand, throws itself with a bold leap out of the blissful dream +of the infinite will into the limits of the finite deed, and by +self-refinement ever increases in magnanimous self-restraint and +beautiful self-sufficiency. + +In this symmetry is also revealed the incredible humor with which +consistent Nature accomplishes her most universal and her most simple +antithesis. Even in the most delicate and most artistic organization +these comical points of the great All reveal themselves, like a +miniature, with roguish significance, and give to all individuality, +which exists only by them and by the seriousness of their play, its +final rounding and perfection. + +Through this individuality and that allegory the bright ideal of witty +sensuality blooms forth from the striving after the Unconditioned. + +Now everything is clear! Hence the omnipresence of the nameless, +unknown divinity. Nature herself wills the everlasting succession of +constantly repeated efforts; and she wills, too, that every individual +shall be complete, unique and new in himself--a true image of the +supreme, indivisible Individuality. Sinking deeper into this +Individuality, my Reflection took such an individual turn that it +presently began to cease and to forget itself. + +"What point have all these allusions, which with senseless sense on +the outward boundaries of sensuality, or rather in the middle of it, I +will not say play, but contend with, each other?" + +So you will surely ask, and so the good Juliana would ask, though no +doubt in different language. + +Dear Beloved! Shall the nosegay contain only demure roses, quiet +forget-me-nots, modest violets and other maidenlike and childlike +flowers? May it not contain anything and everything that shines +strangely in wonderful glory? + +Masculine awkwardness is a manifold thing, and rich in blossoms and +fruits of all kinds. Let the wonderful plant, which I will not name, +have its place. It will serve at least as a foil to the +bright-gleaming pomegranate and the yellow oranges. Or should there +be, perhaps, instead of this motley abundance, only one perfect +flower, which combines all the beauties of the rest and renders their +existence superfluous? + +I do not apologize for doing what I should rather like to do again, +with full confidence in your objective sense for the artistic +productions of the awkwardness which, often and not unwillingly, +borrows the material for its creations from masculine inspiration. + +It is a soft Furioso and a clever Adagio of friendship. You will be +able to learn various things from it; that men can hate with as +uncommon delicacy as you can love; that they then remold a wrangle, +after it is over, into a distinction; and that you may make as many +observations about it as pleases you. + +JULIUS To ANTONIO + +You have changed a great deal of late. Beware, my friend, that you do +not lose your sense for the great before you realize it. What will +that mean? You will finally acquire so much modesty and delicacy that +heart and feeling will be lost. Where then will be your manhood and +your power of action? I shall yet come to the point of treating you as +you treat me, since we have not been living with each other, but near +each other. I shall have to set limits for you and say: Even if he has +a sense for everything else that is beautiful, still he lacks all +sense for friendship. Still I shall never set myself up as a moral +critic of my friend and his conduct; he who can do that does not +deserve the rare good fortune to have a friend. + +That you wrong yourself first of all only makes the matter worse. Tell +me seriously, do you think there is virtue in these cool subtleties of +feeling, in these cunning mental gymnastics, which consume the marrow +of a man's life and leave him hollow inside? + +For a long time I was resigned and said nothing. I did not doubt at +all that you, who know so much, would also probably know the causes +that have destroyed our friendship. It almost seems as if I was +mistaken, since you were so astonished at my attaching myself to +Edward and asked how you had offended me, as if you did not understand +it. If it were only that, only some one thing like that, then it would +not be worth while to ask such a painful question; the question would +answer and settle itself. But is it not more than that, when on every +occasion I must feel it a fresh desecration to tell you everything +about Edward, just as it happened? To be sure you have done nothing, +have not even said anything aloud; but I know and see very well how +you think about it. And if I did not know it and see it, where would +be the invisible communion of our spirits and the beautiful magic of +this communion? It certainly cannot occur to you to want to hold back +still longer, and by sheer finesse to try to end the misunderstanding; +for otherwise I should myself really have nothing more to say. + +You two are unquestionably separated by an everlasting chasm. The +quiet, clear depth of your being and the hot struggle of his restless +life lie at the opposite ends of human existence. He is all action, +you are a sensitive, contemplative nature. For that reason you should +have sense for everything, and you really do have it, save when you +cultivate an intentional reserve. And that really vexes me. Better +that you should hate the noble fellow than misjudge him. But where +will it lead, if you unnaturally accustom yourself to use your utmost +wit in finding nothing but the commonplace in what little of greatness +and beauty there is in him, and that without renouncing your claim to +a liberal mind? + +Is that your boasted many-sidedness? To be sure you observe the +principle of equality, and one man does not fare much better than +another, except that each one is misunderstood in a peculiar way. Have +you not also forced me to say nothing to you, or to anyone else, about +that which I feel to be the highest? And that merely because you +could not hold back your opinion until it was the proper time, and +because your mind is always imagining limitations in others before it +can find its own. You have almost obliged me to explain to you how +great my own worth really is; how much more just and safe it would +have been, if now and then you had not passed judgment but had +believed; if you had presupposed in me an unknown infinite. + +To be sure my own negligence is to blame for it all. Perhaps too it +was idiosyncrasy--that I wanted to share with you the entire present, +without letting you know anything about the past and the future. +Somehow it went against my feelings, and I regarded it too as +superfluous; for, as a matter of fact, I gave you credit for a great +deal of intelligence. + +O Antonio, if I could be doubtful about the eternal truths, you might +have brought me to the point of regarding that quiet, beautiful +friendship, which is based merely upon the harmony of being and living +together, as something false and perverse. + +Is it now still incomprehensible if I quite go over to the other side? +I renounce refined enjoyment and plunge into the wild battle of life. +I hasten to Edward. Everything is agreed upon. We will not only live +together, but we will work and act in fraternal unison. He is rough +and uncouth, his virtue is strong rather than sensitive. But he has a +great manly heart, and in better times than ours he would have been, I +say it boldly, a hero. + +II + +It is no doubt well that we have at last talked with each other again. +I am quite content, too, that you did not wish to write, and that you +spoke slightingly of poor innocent letters because you really have +more genius for talking. But I have in my heart one or two things more +that I could not say to you, and will now endeavor to intimate with +the pen. + +But why in this way? Oh, my friend, if I only knew of a more refined +and subtle mode of communicating my thoughts from afar in some +exquisite form! To me conversation is too loud, too near, and also too +disconnected. These separate words always present one side only, a +part of the connected, coherent whole, which I should like to intimate +in its complete harmony. + +And can men who are going to live together be too tender toward each +other in their intercourse? It is not as if I were afraid of saying +something too strong, and for that reason avoided speaking of certain +persons and certain affairs. So far as that is concerned, I think that +the boundary line between us is forever destroyed. + +What I still had to say to you is something very general, and yet I +prefer to choose this roundabout way. I do not know whether it is +false or true delicacy, but I should find it very hard to talk with +you, face to face, about friendship. And yet it is thoughts on that +subject that I wish to convey to you. The application--and it is about +that I am most concerned--you will yourself easily be able to make. + +To my mind there are two kinds of friendship. The first is entirely +external. Insatiably it rushes from deed to deed, receives every +worthy man into the great alliance of united heroes, ties the old knot +tighter by means of every virtue, and ever aspires to win new +brothers; the more it has, the more it wants. Call to mind the antique +world and you will find this friendship, which wages honest war +against all that is bad, even were it in ourselves or in the beloved +friend--you will find this friendship everywhere, where noble strength +exerts influence on great masses, and creates or governs worlds. Now +times are different; but the ideal of this friendship will stay with +me as long as I live. + +The other friendship is entirely internal. A wonderful symmetry of the +most intimately personal, as if it had been previously ordained that +one should always be perfecting himself. All thoughts and feelings +become social through the mutual excitation and development of the +holiest. And this purely spiritual love, this beautiful mysticism of +intercourse, does not merely hover as the distant goal of a perhaps +futile effort. No, it is only to be found complete. There no deception +occurs, as in that other heroic form. Whether a man's virtue will +stand the test, his actions must show. But he who inwardly sees and +feels humanity and the world will not be apt to look for public +disinterestedness where it is not to be found. + +He only is capable of this friendship who is quite composed within +himself, and who knows how to honor with humility the divinity of the +other. + +When the gods have bestowed such friendship upon a man, he can do +nothing more than protect it carefully against everything external, +and guard its holy being. For the delicate flower is perishable. + +LONGING AND PEACE + +Lightly dressed, Lucinda and Julius stood by the window in the +summer-house, refreshing themselves in the cool morning air. They were +absorbed in watching the rising sun, which the birds were welcoming +with their joyous songs. + +"Julius," asked Lucinda, "why is it that I feel a deep longing in this +serene peace?" + +"It is only in longing that we find peace," answered Julius. "Yes, +there is peace only when the spirit is entirely free to long and to +seek, where it can find nothing higher than its own longing." + +"Only in the peace of the night," said Lucinda, "do longing and love +shine full and bright, like this glorious sun." + +"And in the daytime," responded Julius, "the happiness of love shines +dimly, even as the pale moonlight." + +"Or it appears and vanishes suddenly into the general darkness," added +Lucinda, "like those flashes of lightning which lighted up the room +when the moon was hidden." + +"Only in the night," said Julius, "does the little nightingale utter +wails and deep sighs. Only in the night does the flower shyly open and +breathe freely the fragrant air, intoxicating both mind and senses in +equal delight. Only in the night, Lucinda, does the bold speech of +deep passion flow divinely from the lips, which in the noise of the +day close with tender pride their sweet sanctuary." + +LUCINDA + +It is not I, my Julius, whom you portray as so holy; although I would +fain wail like the nightingale, and although I am, as I inwardly feel, +consecrated to the night. It is you, it is the wonderful flower of +your fantasy which you perceive in me, when the noise has died down +and nothing commonplace distracts your noble mind. + +JULIUS + +Away with modesty and flattery! Remember, you are the priestess of the +night. Even in the daylight the dark lustre of your abundant hair, the +bright black of your earnest eyes, the majesty of your brow and your +entire body, all proclaim it. + +LUCINDA + +My eyes droop while you praise, because the noisy morning dazzles and +the joyous songs of the merry birds strengthen and awe my soul. At +another time my ear would eagerly drink in my lovely friend's sweet +talk here in the quiet, dark coolness of the evening. + +JULIUS + +It is not vain fantasy. My longing for you is constant and +everlastingly unsatisfied. + +LUCINDA + +Be it what it may, you are the object in which my being finds peace. + +JULIUS + +Holy peace, dear friend, I have found only in that longing. + +LUCINDA + +And I have found that holy longing in this beautiful peace. + +JULIUS + +Alas, that the garish light is permitted to lift the veil that so +concealed those flames, that the play of the senses was fain to cool +and assuage the burning soul. + +LUCINDA + +And so sometimes the cold and serious day will annihilate the warm +night of life, when youth flies by and I renounce you, even as you +once more greatly renounced great love. + +JULIUS + +Oh, that I might show you my unknown friend, and her the wonder of my +wondrous happiness. + +LUCINDA + +You love her still and will love her forever, though forever mine. +That is the wonder of your wondrous heart. + +JULIUS + +No more wondrous than yours. I see you, clasped against my breast, +playing with your Guido's locks, while we twain in brotherly union +adorn your serious brow with eternal wreaths of joy. + +LUCINDA + +Let rest in darkness, bring not forth into light, that which blooms +sacredly in the quiet depths of the heart. + +JULIUS + +Where may the billow of life be sporting with the impulsive youth whom +tender feeling and wild fate vehemently dragged into the harsh world? + +LUCINDA + +Uniquely transfigured, the pure image of the noble Unknown shines in +the blue sky of your pure soul. + +JULIUS + +Oh eternal longing! But surely the futile desire, the vain glare, of +the day will grow dim and go out, and there will be forever more the +restful feeling of a great night of love. + +LUCINDA + +Thus does the woman's heart in my ardent breast feel, when I am +allowed to be as I am. It longs only for your longing, and is peaceful +where you find peace. + +DALLYINGS OF THE FANTASY + +Life itself, the delicate child of the gods, is crowded out by the +hard, loud preparations for living, and is pitifully stifled in the +loving embrace of apelike Care. + +To have purposes, to carry out purposes, to interweave purposes +artfully with purposes for a purpose: this habit is so deeply rooted +in the foolish nature of godlike man, that if once he wishes to move +freely, without any purpose, on the inner stream of ever-flowing +images and feelings, he must actually resolve to do it and make it a +set purpose. + +It is the acme of intelligence to keep silent from choice, to +surrender the soul to the fantasy, and not to disturb the sweet +dallyings of the young mother with her child. But rarely is the mind +so intelligent after the golden age of its innocence. It would fain +possess the soul alone; and even when she supposes herself alone with +her natural love, the understanding listens furtively and substitutes +for the holy child's-play mere memories of former purposes or +prospects of new ones. Yes, it even continues to give to the hollow, +cold illusions a tinge of color and a fleeting heat; and thus by its +imitative skill it tries to steal from the innocent fantasy its very +innermost being. + +But the youthful soul does not allow itself to be cheated by the +cunning of the prematurely old Understanding, and is always watching +while its darling plays with the beautiful pictures of the beautiful +world. Willingly she allows her brow to be adorned with the wreaths +which the child plaits from the blossoms of life, and willingly she +sinks into waking slumber, dreaming of the music of love, hearing the +friendly and mysterious voices of the gods, like the separate sounds +of a distant romance. + +Old, well-known feelings make music from the depths of the past and +the future. They touch the listening spirit but lightly, and quickly +lose themselves in the background of hushed music and dim love. Every +one lives and loves, complains and rejoices, in beautiful confusion. +Here at a noisy feast the lips of all the joyful guests open in +general song, and there the lonely maiden becomes mute in the presence +of the friend in whom she would fain confide, and with smiling mouth +refuses the kiss. Thoughtfully I strew flowers on the grave of the +prematurely dead son, flowers which presently, full of joy and hope, I +offer to the bride of the beloved brother; while the high priestess +beckons to me and holds out her hand for a solemn covenant to swear by +the pure eternal fire eternal purity and never-dying enthusiasm. I +hasten away from the altar and the priestess to seize my sword and +plunge with the host of heroes into a battle, which I soon forget, +seeing in the deepest solitude only the sky and myself. + +The soul that has such dreams in sleep continues to have them even +when it is awake. It feels itself entwined by the blossoms of love, it +takes care not to destroy the loose wreaths; it gladly gives itself up +a prisoner, consecrates itself to the fantasy, and willingly allows +itself to be ruled by the child, which rewards all maternal cares by +its sweet playfulness. + +Then a fresh breath of the bloom of youth and a halo of child-like +ecstasy comes over the whole of life. The man deifies his Beloved, the +mother her child, and all men everlasting humanity. + +Now the soul understands the wail of the nightingale and the smile of +the new-born babe; the significance of the flowers and the mysterious +hieroglyphics of the starry sky; the holy import of life as well as +the beautiful language of Nature. All things speak to it, and +everywhere it sees the lovely spirit through the delicate envelope. + +On this gaily decorated floor it glides through the light dance of +life, innocent, and concerned only to follow the rhythm of sociability +and friendship, and not to disturb the harmony of love. And during it +all an eternal song, of which it catches now and then a few words +which adumbrate still higher wonders. + +Ever more beautifully this magic circle encompasses the charmed soul, +and that which it forms or speaks sounds like a wonderful romance of +childhood's beautiful and mysterious divinities--a romantic tale, +accompanied by the bewitching music of the feelings, and adorned with +the fairest flowers of lovely life. + + + + +APHORISMS + +By FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + +From the _Lyceum and the Athenæum_ (1797-1800) + +TRANSLATED BY LOUIS H. GRAY + +Perfect understanding of a classic work should never be possible; but +those who are cultivated and who are still striving after further +culture, must always desire to learn more from it. + +If an author is to be able to write well upon a theme, he must no +longer feel interest in it; the thought which is to be soberly +expressed must already be entirely past and must no longer personally +concern the writer. So long as the artist invents and is inspired, he +is in an unfavorable situation, at least for communicating his +concepts. He will then wish to say everything--a false tendency of +young geniuses, or an instinctively correct prejudice of old bunglers. +In this way he mistakes the value and the dignity of self-restraint, +although for the artist, as for the man, this is the first and the +last, the most needful and the highest. + +We should never appeal to the spirit of antiquity as an authority. +There is this peculiarity about spirits: they cannot be grasped with +the hands and be held up before others. Spirits reveal themselves only +to spirits. Here, too, the briefest and most concise course would +doubtless be to prove, through good works, our possession of the faith +which alone gives salvation. + +He who desires something infinite knows not what he desires; but the +converse of this proposition is not true. + +In the ordinary kind of fair or even good translation it is precisely +the best part of a work that is lost. + +It is impossible to offend a man if he will not be offended. + +Every honest author writes for no one or for all men; he who writes +that this one or that one may read him, deserves not to be read at +all. + +In the poetry of the Ancients we see the perfection of the letter: in +that of the moderns we divine the growth of the spirit. + +The Germans are said to be the foremost nation of the world as regards +artistic sense and scientific genius. Very true, only--there are very +few Germans. + +Almost all marriages are only concubinages, morganatic wedlock, or, +rather, provisional attempts and remote approximations to a real +marriage, the peculiar essence of which consists in the fact that more +than one person are to become but one, not in accordance with the +paradoxes of this system or that, but in harmony with all spiritual +and temporal laws. A fine concept, although its realization seems to +have many grave difficulties. For this very reason there should here +be the least possible restriction of the caprice which may well have a +word to say when it becomes a question of whether one is to be an +individual in himself or is to be merely an integral part of a +corporate personality; nor is it easy to see what objections, on +principle, could be made to a marriage a quatre. If the State, +however, is determined to hold together, even by force, the +unsuccessful attempts at marriage, it thereby impedes the very +possibility of marriage, which might be furthered by new--and perhaps +happier--attempts. + +A regiment of soldiers on parade is, according to some philosophers, a +system. + +A man can only become a philosopher, he cannot be one; so soon as he +believes that he is one, he ceases to become one. + +The printed page is to thought what a nursery is to the first kiss. + +The historian is a prophet looking backward. + +There are people whose entire activity consists in saying "No." It +would be no small thing always to be able rightly to say "No," but he +who can do nothing more, surely cannot do it rightly. The taste of +these negationists is an admirable shears to cleanse the extremities +of genius; their enlightenment a great snuffer for the flame of +enthusiasm; and their reason a mild laxative for immoderate passion +and love. + +Every great philosopher has always so explained his +predecessors--often unintentionally--that it seemed as though they had +not in the least been understood before him. + +As a transitory condition skepticism is logical insurrection; as a +system it is anarchy; skeptical method would thus be approximately +like insurgent government. + +At the phrases "his philosophy," "my philosophy," we always recall the +words in Nathan the Wise: "Who owns God? What sort of a God is that +who is owned by a man?" + +What happens in poetry happens never or always; otherwise, it is no +true poetry. We ought not to believe that it is now actually +happening. + +Women have absolutely no sense of art, though they may have of poetry. +They have no natural disposition for the sciences, though they may +have for philosophy. They are by no means wanting in power of +speculation and intuitive perception of the infinite; they lack only +power of abstraction, which is far more easy to be learned. + +That is beautiful which is charming and sublime at the same time. + +Romantic poetry is a progressive universal poetry. Its mission is not +merely to reunite all the separate categories of poetry, and to bring +poetry into contact with philosophy and with rhetoric. It will, and +should, also now mingle and now amalgamate poetry and prose, genius +and criticism, artistic poetry and natural poetry; make poetry living +and social, and life and society poetic; poetize wit; and fill and +saturate the forms of art with sterling material of every kind, and +inspire them with the vibrations of humor. It embraces everything, if +only it is poetic--from the greatest system of art which, in its turn, +includes many systems within itself, down to the sigh, the kiss, which +the musing child breathes forth in artless song. It can so be lost in +what it represents that it might be supposed that its one and all is +the characterization of poetic individuals of every type; and yet no +form has thus far arisen which would be equally adapted perfectly to +express the author's mind; so that many artists who desired only to +write a romance have more or less described themselves. Romantic +poetry alone can, like the epic, become a mirror of the entire world +that surrounds it, and a picture of its age. And yet, free from all +real and ideal interests, it, too, most of all, can soar, mid-way +between that which is presented and him who presents, on the wings of +poetic reflection; it can ever re-intensify this reflection and +multiply it as in an endless series of mirrors. It is capable of the +highest and of the most universal culture--not merely from within +outward, but also from without inward--since it organizes similarly +all parts of that which is destined to become a whole; thus the +prospect of an endlessly developing classicism is opened up to it. +Among the arts romantic poetry is what wit is to philosophy, and what +society, association, friendship, and love are in life. Other types of +poetry are finished, and can now be completely analyzed. The romantic +type of poetry is still in process of development; indeed, it is its +peculiar essence that it can eternally only be in process of +development, and that it can never be completed. It can be exhausted +by no theory, and only a divinatory criticism might dare to wish to +characterize its ideal. It alone is infinite, even as it alone is +free; and as its first law it recognizes that the arbitrariness of the +poet brooks no superior law. The romantic style of poetry is the only +one which is more than a style, and which is, as it were, poetry +itself; for in a certain sense all poetry is, or should be, romantic. + +In the ancients every man has found what he needed or +desired--especially himself. + +The French Revolution, Fichte's _Wissenschaftslehre_, and Goethe's +_Wilhelm Meister_ are the three greatest tendencies of the age. +Whoever is offended at this juxtaposition, and whoever can deem no +revolution important which is not boisterous and material, has not yet +risen to the broad and lofty viewpoint of the history of mankind. Even +in our meagre histories of culture, which, for the most part, resemble +a collection of variant readings accompanied by a running commentary +the classical text of which has perished, many a little book of which +the noisy rabble took scant notice in its day, plays a greater rôle +than all that this rabble did. + +It is very one-sided and presumptuous to assert that there is only one +Mediator. To the ideal Christian--and in this respect the unique +Spinoza comes nearest to being one--everything ought to be a Mediator. + +He alone can be an artist who has a religion of his own, an original +view of the infinite. + +It is a peculiar trait of humanity that it must exalt itself above +humanity. + +Plato's philosophy is a worthy preface to the religion of the future. + +Man is free when he brings forth God or makes Him visible; and thereby +he becomes immortal. + +The morality of a book lies not in its theme or in the relation of the +writer to his public, but in the spirit of the treatment. If this +breathes the full abundance of humanity, it is moral. If it is merely +the work of an isolated power and art, it is not moral. + +He is an artist who has his centre within himself. He who lacks this +must choose a definite leader and mediator outside himself--naturally, +not forever, but only at the first. For without a living centre man +cannot exist, and if he does not yet have it within himself he can +seek it only in a human being, and only a human being and his centre +can arouse and awaken the artist's own. + + + + +NOVALIS (FRIEDRICH VON HARDENBERG) + + * * * * * + +THE STORY OF HYACINTH AND ROSEBLOSSOM + +From _The Novices at Saïs_ (1798) + +TRANSLATED BY LILLIE WINTER + +Long ages ago there lived in the far west a guileless youth. He was +very good, but at the same time peculiar beyond measure. He constantly +grieved over nothing at all, always went about alone and silent, sat +down by himself whenever the others played and were happy, and was +always thinking about strange things. Woods and caves were his +favorite haunts, and there he talked constantly with birds and +animals, with rocks and trees--naturally not a word of sense, nothing +but stuff silly enough to make one die a-laughing. Yet he continued to +remain morose and grave in spite of the fact that the squirrel, the +long-tailed monkey, the parrot, and the bullfinch took great pains to +distract him and lead him into the right path. The goose would tell +fairy-tales, and in the midst of them the brook would tinkle a ballad; +a great heavy stone would caper about ludicrously; the rose stealing +up affectionately behind him would creep through his locks, and the +ivy stroke his careworn forehead. But his melancholy and his gravity +were obstinate. His parents were greatly grieved; they did not know +what to do. He was healthy and ate well. His parents had never hurt +his feelings, nor until a few years since had any one been more +cheerful and lively than he; always he had been at the head of every +game, and was well liked by all the girls. He was very handsome +indeed, looked like a picture, danced beautifully. Among the girls +there was one sweet and very pretty child. + +[Illustration: #NOVALIS# (Friedrich von Hardenberg) EDUARD EICHENS] + +She looked as though she were of wax, with hair like silk spun of +gold, lips as red as cherries, a figure like a little doll, eyes black +as the raven. Such was her charm that whoever saw her might have pined +away with love. At that time Roseblossom, that was her name, cherished +a heart-felt affection for the handsome Hyacinth, that was his name, +and he loved her with all his life. The other children did not know +it. A little violet had been the first to tell them; the house-cats +had noticed it, to be sure, for their parents' homes stood near each +other. When, therefore, Hyacinth was standing at night at his window +and Roseblossom at hers, and the pussies ran by on a mouse-hunt, they +would see both standing, and would often laugh and titter so loudly +that the children would hear them and grow angry. The violet had +confided it to the strawberry, she told it to her friend, the +gooseberry, and she never stopped taunting when Hyacinth passed; so +that very soon the whole garden and the goods heard the news, and +whenever Hyacinth went out they called on every side: "Little +Roseblossom is my sweetheart!" Now Hyacinth was vexed, and again he +could not help laughing from the bottom of his heart when the lizard +would come sliding up, seat himself on a warm stone, wag his little +tail, and sing + + Little Roseblossom, good and kind, + Suddenly was stricken blind. + Her mother Hyacinth she thought + And to embrace him forthwith sought. + But when she felt the face was strange, + Just think, no terror made her change! + But on his cheek pressed she her kiss, + And she had noted naught amiss. + +Alas, how soon did all this bliss pass away! There came along a man +from foreign lands; he had traveled everywhere, had a long beard, +deep-set eyes, terrible eyebrows, a strange cloak with many folds and +queer figures woven in it. He seated himself in front of the house +that belonged to Hyacinth's parents. Now Hyacinth was very curious and +sat down beside him and fetched him bread and wine. Then the man +parted his white beard and told stories until late at night and +Hyacinth did not stir nor did he tire of listening. As far as one +could learn afterward the man had related much about foreign lands, +unknown regions, astonishingly wondrous things, staying there three +days and creeping down into deep pits with Hyacinth. Roseblossom +cursed the old sorcerer enough, for Hyacinth was all eagerness for his +tales and cared for nothing, scarcely even eating a little food. +Finally the man took his departure, not, however, without leaving +Hyacinth a booklet that not a soul could read. The youth had even +given him fruit, bread, and wine to take along and had accompanied him +a long way. Then he came back melancholy and began an entirely new +mode of life. Roseblossom grieved for him very pitifully, for from +that time on he paid little attention to her and always kept to +himself. + +Now it came about that he returned home one day and was like one +new-born. He fell on his parents' neck and wept. "I must depart for +foreign lands," he said; "the strange old woman in the forest told me +that I must get well again; she threw the book into the fire and urged +me to come to you and ask for your blessing. Perhaps I shall be back +soon, perhaps never more. Say good-bye to Roseblossom for me. I should +have liked to speak to her, I do not know what is the matter, +something drives me away; whenever I want to think of old times, +mightier thoughts rush in immediately; my peace is gone, my courage +and love with it, I must go in quest of them. I should like to tell +you whither, but I do not know myself; thither where dwells the mother +of all things, the veiled virgin. For her my heart burns. Farewell!" + +He tore himself away and departed. His parents lamented and shed +tears. Roseblossom kept in her chamber and wept bitterly. Hyacinth now +hastened as fast as he could through valleys and wildernesses, across +mountains and streams, toward the mysterious country. Everywhere he +asked men and animals, rocks and trees, for the sacred goddess (Isis). +Some laughed, some were silent, nowhere did he receive an answer. At +first he passed through wild, uninhabited regions, mist and clouds +obstructed his path, it was always storming; later he found unbounded +deserts of glowing hot sand, and as he wandered his mood changed, time +seemed to grow longer, and his inner unrest was calmed. He became more +tranquil and the violent excitement within him was gradually +transformed to a gentle but strong impulse, which took possession of +his whole nature. It seemed as though many years lay behind him. Now, +too, the region again became richer and more varied, the air warm and +blue, the path more level; green bushes attracted him with their +pleasant shade but he did not understand their language, nor did they +seem to speak, and yet they filled his heart with verdant colors, with +quiet and freshness. Mightier and mightier grew within him that sweet +longing, broader and softer the leaves, noisier and happier the birds +and animals, balmier the fruits, darker the heavens, warmer the air +and more fiery his love; faster and faster passed the Time, as though +it knew that it was approaching the goal. + +One day he came upon a crystal spring and a bevy of flowers that were +going down to a valley between black columns reaching to the sky. With +familiar words they greeted him kindly. "My dear countrymen," he said, +"pray, where am I to find the sacred abode of Isis? It must be +somewhere in this vicinity, and you are probably better acquainted +here than I." "We, too, are only passing through this region," the +flowers answered; "a family of spirits is traveling and we are making +ready the road and preparing lodgings for them; but we came through a +region lately where we heard her name called. Just walk upward in the +direction from which we are coming and you will be sure to learn +more." The flowers and the spring smiled as they said this, offered +him a drink of fresh water, and went on. + +Hyacinth followed their advice, asked and asked, and finally reached +that long-sought dwelling concealed behind palms and other choice +plants. His heart beat with infinite longing and the most delicious +yearning thrilled him in this abode of the eternal seasons. Amid +heavenly fragrance he fell into slumber, since naught but dreams might +lead him to the most sacred place. To the tune of charming melodies +and in changing harmonies did his dream guide him mysteriously through +endless apartments filled with curious things. Everything seemed so +familiar to him and yet amid a splendor that he had never seen; then +even the last tinge of earthliness vanished as though dissipated in +the air, and he stood before the celestial virgin. He lifted the +filmy, shimmering veil and Roseblossom fell into his arms. From afar a +strain of music accompanied the mystery of the loving reunion, the +outpourings of their longing, and excluded all that was alien from +this delightful spot. After that Hyacinth lived many years with +Roseblossom near his happy parents and comrades, and innumerable +grandchildren thanked the mysterious old woman for her advice and her +fire; for at that time people got as many children as they wanted. + + + + +APHORISMS[33] + +By NOVALIS + +TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC H. HEDGE + +Where no gods are, spectres rule. + +The best thing that the French achieved by their Revolution, was a +portion of Germanity. + +Germanity is genuine popularity, and therefore an ideal. + +Where children are, there is the golden age. + +Spirit is now active here and there: when will Spirit be active in the +whole? When will mankind, in the mass, begin to consider? + +Nature is pure Past, foregone freedom; and therefore, throughout, the +soil of history. + +The antithesis of body and spirit is one of the most remarkable and +dangerous of all antitheses. It has played an important part in +history. + +Only by comparing ourselves, as men, with other rational beings, could +we know what we truly are, what position we occupy. + +The history of Christ is as surely poetry as it is history. And, in +general, only that history is history which might also be fable. + +The Bible begins gloriously with Paradise, the symbol of youth, and +ends with the everlasting kingdom, with the holy city. The history of +every man should be a Bible. + +Prayer is to religion what thinking is to philosophy. To pray is to +make religion. + +The more sinful man feels himself, the more Christian he is. + +Christianity is opposed to science, to art, to enjoyment in the proper +sense. + +It goes forth from the common man. It inspires the great majority of +the limited on earth. + +It is the germ of all democracy, the highest fact in the domain of the +popular. + +Light is the symbol of genuine self-possession. Therefore light, +according to analogy, is the action of the self-contact of matter. +Accordingly, day is the consciousness of the planet, and while the +sun, like a god, in eternal self-action, inspires the centre, one +planet after another closes one eye for a longer or shorter time, and +with cool sleep refreshes itself for new life and contemplation. +Accordingly, here, too, there is religion. For is the life of the +planets aught else but sun-worship? + +The Holy Ghost is more than the Bible. This should be our teacher of +religion, not the dead, earthly, equivocal letter. + +All faith is miraculous, and worketh miracles. + +Sin is indeed the real evil in the world. All calamity proceeds from +that. He who understands sin, understands virtue and Christianity, +himself and the world. + +The greatest of miracles is a virtuous act. + +If a man could suddenly believe, in sincerity, that he was moral, he +would be so. + +We need not fear to admit that man has a preponderating tendency to +evil. So much the better is he by nature, for only the unlike +attracts. + +Everything distinguished (peculiar) deserves ostracism. Well for it if +it ostracizes itself. Everything absolute must quit the world. + +A time will come, and that soon, when all men will be convinced that +there can be no king without a republic, and no republic without a +king; that both are as inseparable as body and soul. The true king +will be a republic, the true republic a king. + +In cheerful souls there is no wit. Wit shows a disturbance of the +equipoise. + +Most people know not how interesting they are, what interesting things +they really utter. A true representation of themselves, a record and +estimate of their sayings, would make them astonished at themselves, +would help them to discover in themselves an entirely new world. + +Man is the Messiah of Nature. + +The soul is the most powerful of all poisons. It is the most +penetrating and diffusible stimulus. + +Every sickness is a musical problem; the cure is the musical solution. + +Inoculation with death, also, will not be wanting in some future +universal therapy. + +The idea of a perfect health is interesting only in a scientific point +of view. Sickness is necessary to individualization. + +If God could be man, he can also be stone, plant, animal, element, and +perhaps, in this way, there is a continuous redemption in Nature. + +Life is a disease of the spirit, a passionate activity. Rest is the +peculiar property of the spirit. From the spirit comes gravitation. + +As nothing can be free, so, too, nothing can be forced, but spirit. + +A space-filling individual is a body; a time-filling individual is a +soul. + +It should be inquired whether Nature has not essentially changed with +the progress of culture. + +All activity ceases when knowledge comes. The state of knowing is +_eudæmonism_, blest repose of contemplation, heavenly quietism. + +Miracles, as contradictions of Nature, are _amathematical_. But there +are no miracles in this sense. What we so term, is intelligible +precisely by means of mathematics; for nothing is miraculous to +mathematics. + +In music, mathematics appears formally, as revelation, as creative +idealism. All enjoyment is musical, consequently mathematical. The +highest life is mathematics. + +There may be mathematicians of the first magnitude who cannot cipher. +One can be a great cipherer without a conception of mathematics. + +Instinct is genius in Paradise, before the period of self-abstraction +(self-recognition). + +The fate which oppresses us is the sluggishness of our spirit. By +enlargement and cultivation of our activity, we change ourselves into +fate. Everything appears to stream in upon us, because we do not +stream out. We are negative, because we choose to be so; the more +positive we become, the more negative will the world around us be, +until, at last, there is no more negative, and we are all in all. God +wills gods. + +All power appears only in transition. Permanent power is stuff. + +Every act of introversion--every glance into our interior--is at the +same time ascension, going up to heaven, a glance at the veritable +outward. + +Only so far as a man is happily married to himself, is he fit for +married life and family life, generally. + +One must never confess that one loves one's self. The secret of this +confession is the life-principle of the only true and eternal love. + +We conceive God as personal, just as we conceive ourselves personal. +God is just as personal and as individual as we are; for what we call +I is not our true I, but only its off glance. + + + + +HYMN TO NIGHT (1800) + +By NOVALIS + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL B. THOMAS + +Who, that hath life and the gift of perception, loves not more than +all the marvels seen far and wide in the space about him Light, the +all-gladdening, with its colors, with its beams and its waves, its +mild omnipresence as the arousing day? The giant world of restless +stars breathes it, as were it the innermost soul of life, and lightly +floats in its azure flood; the stone breathes it, sparkling and ever +at rest, and the dreamy, drinking plant, and the savage, ardent, +manifold-fashioned beast; but above all the glorious stranger with the +thoughtful eyes, the airy step, and the lightly-closed, melodious +lips. Like a king of terrestrial nature it calls every power to +countless transformations, it forms and dissolves innumerable +alliances and surrounds every earthly creature with its heavenly +effulgence. Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the +realms of the world. + +Downward I turn my eyes to Night, the holy, ineffable, mysterious. Far +below lies the world, sunk in a deep vault; void and lonely is its +place. Deep melancholy is wafted through the chords of the breast. In +drops of dew I'd fain sink down and mingle with the ashes. Far-off +memories, desires of youth, dreams of childhood, long life's brief +joys and vain hopes appear in gray garments like the evening mist +after sunset. Light has pitched its gay tents in other regions. Will +it perchance never return to its children, who are waiting for it with +the faith of innocence? + +What is it that suddenly wells up so forebodingly from beneath the +heart and smothers the gentle breath of melancholy? Dark Night, dost +thou also take pleasure in us? What hast thou beneath thy mantle which +touches my soul with invisible force? Precious balsam drops from the +bunch of poppies in thy hand. Thou raisest up the heavy wings of the +soul; vaguely and inexpressibly we feel ourselves moved. Joyously +fearful, I see an earnest face, which gently and reverently bends over +me, and amid endlessly entangled locks shows the sweet youth of the +mother. How poor and childish does Light seem to me now! How joyful +and blessed the departure of day! Only for that reason, then, because +Night turns thy servants from thee, didst thou scatter in the wide +expanse of space the shining stars, to make known thine omnipotence +and thy return, during the periods of thine absence? More heavenly +than those twinkling stars seem to us the everlasting eyes which Night +has opened within us. Farther they see than the palest of those +numberless hosts; not needing light, they fathom the depths of a +loving heart, filling a higher space with unspeakable delight. + +Praise be to the queen of the world, to the high harbinger of holy +worlds, to the fostress of blissful love! She sends thee to me, gentle +sweetheart, lovely sun of the night. Now I am awake, for I am thine +and mine; thou hast proclaimed to me that night is life and made a man +of me. Consume my body with spiritual fire, that I may ethereally +blend with thee, and then the bridal night may last forever. + + + + +"THOUGH NONE THY NAME SHOULD CHERISH" [34] + + Though none Thy Name should cherish, + My faith shall be the same, + Lest gratitude should perish + And earth be brought to shame. + With meekness Thou did'st suffer + The pangs of death for me, + With joy then I would offer + This heart for aye to Thee. + +[Illustration: #THE QUEEN OF NIGHT# _From the painting by Moritz von +Schwind_] + + I weep with strong emotion + That death has been Thy lot, + And yet that Thy devotion + Thy people have forgot. + The blessings of salvation + Thy perfect love has won, + Yet who in any nation + Regards what Thou hast done 3 + + With love Thou hast protected + Each man his whole life through; + Though all Thy care rejected, + No less would'st Thou be true. + Such love as Thine must vanquish + The proudest soul at last, + 'Twill turn to Thee in anguish + And to Thy knees cling fast. + + Thine influence hath bound me; + Oh, if it be Thy will, + Be evermore around me, + Be present with me still! + At length too shall the others + Look up and long for rest, + And all my loving brothers + Shall sink upon Thy breast. + + + + +TO THE VIRGIN[35] + + A thousand hands, devoutly tender, + Have sought thy beauty to express, + But none, oh Mary, none can render, + As my soul sees, thy loveliness. + + I gaze till earth's confusion fadeth + Like to a dream, and leaves behind + A heaven of sweetness which pervadeth + My whole rapt being--heart and mind. + + + + +FRIEDRICH HÖLDERLIN + + * * * * * + +HYPERION'S SONG OF FATE [36] (1799) + + Ye wander there in the light + On flower-soft fields, ye blest immortal Spirits. + Radiant godlike zephyrs + Touch you as gently + As the hand of a master might + Touch the awed lute-string. + Free of fate as the slumbering + Infant, breathe the divine ones. + Guarded well + In the firm-sheathed bud + Blooms eternal + Each happy soul; + And their rapture-lit eyes + Shine with a tranquil + Unchanging lustre. + But we, 'tis our portion, + We never may be at rest. + They stumble, they vanish, + The suffering mortals, + Hurtling from one hard + Hour to another, + Like waves that are driven + From cliff-side to cliff-side, + Endlessly down the uncertain abyss. + + + + +EVENING PHANTASIE[36] (1799) + +Before his but reposes in restful shade The ploughman; wreaths of +smoke from his hearth ascend. And sweet to wand'rers comes the tone of +Evening bells from the peaceful village. + +[Illustration: #FRIEDRICH HÖLDERLIN# E. HADER] + + The sailor too puts into the haven now, + In distant cities cheerily dies away + The busy tumult; in the arbor + Gleams the festal repast of friendship. + + But whither I? In labor, for slight reward + We mortals live; in alternate rest and toil + Contentment dwells; but why then sleeps not + Hid in my bosom the thorn unsparing? + + The ev'ning heaven blooms as with springtime's hue; + Uncounted bloom the roses, the golden world + Seems wrapt in peace; oh, bear me thither, + Purple-wrought clouds! And may for me there + + Both love and grief dissolve in the joyous light! + But see, as if dispelled by the foolish prayer, + The wonder fades! 'Tis dark, and lonely + Under the heaven I stand as erstwhile. + + Come then to me, soft Sleep. Overmuch requires + The heart; and yet thou too at the last shalt fade, + Oh youth, thou restless dream-pursuer! + Peaceful and happy shall age then follow. + + + + + LUDWIG TIECK + + * * * * * + +PUSS IN BOOTS (1797) + +_A fairy-tale for children in three acts, with interludes, a +prologue and an epilogue_. + +TRANSLATED BY LILLIE WINTER, B.A. + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + + + THE KING + + THE PRINCESS, _his daughter_ + + PRINCE NATHANIEL _of Malsinki_ + + LEANDER, _Court scholar_ + + HANSWURST, _Court fool_ + + _A Groom of the Chamber_ + + _The Cook_ + + LORENZ } + BARTHEL } _Peasant brothers_ + GOTTLIEB } + + _Hinze, a tom-cat_ + + _A Tavern-keeper_ + + KUNZ } + MICHEL } _Peasants_ + + _A Bugbear_ + + _A Peace-maker_ + + _The Playwright_ + + _A Soldier_ + + _Two Hussars_ + + _Two Lovers_ + + _Servants_ + + _Musicians_ + + _A Peasant_ + + _The Prompter_ + + _A Shoemaker_ + + _A Historian_ + + FISCHER + + MÜLLER + + BÖTTICHER + + LEUTNER + + WIESENER + + WIESENER'S NEIGHBOR + + _Elephants_ + + _Lions_ + + _Bears_ + + _An officer_ + + _Eagles and other birds_ + + _A rabbit_ + + _Partridges_ + + _Jupiter_ + + _Terkaleon_ + + _The Machinist_ + + _Spirits_ + + _Monkeys_ + + _The Public_. + + +[Illustration: #LUDWIG TIECK# VOGEL VON VOGELSTEIN] + +PROLOGUE + + +_The scene is laid in the pit, the candles are already lighted, the +musicians are gathered in the orchestra. The theatre is filled, people +talking in confusion, some arriving, etc_. + +FISCHER, MÜLLER, SCHLOSSER, BÖTTICHER, _in the pit_ + +FISCHER. + +Say, but I am curious, Herr Müller, what do you think of today's play? + +MÜLLER. + +I should be more likely to expect the sky to fall in than to see such +a play at our theatre. + +FISCHER. + +Do you know the play? + +MÜLLER. + +Not at all. A strange title that: _Puss in Boots_. I do hope they're +not going to present that child's play at the theatre. + +SCHLOSS. + +Why, is it an opera? + +FISCHER. + +Anything but that; the bill says: _A Fairy-tale for Children_. + +SCHLOSS. + +A fairy-tale? But in Heaven's name, we're not children, are we, that +they want to present such pieces for us? They certainly won't put an +actual cat on the stage, will they? + +FISCHER. + +It may turn out to be an imitation of the new Arcadians, a sort of +Terkaleon. + +MÜLLER. + +Now that wouldn't be bad, for I've been wishing this long while to see +some time such a wonderful opera without music. + +FISCHER. + +Without music it is absurd, for, my dear friend, we're beyond such +childish nonsense, such superstition; enlightenment has borne its +natural fruits. + +MÜLLER. + +It may turn out to be a regular picture of domestic life, and the cat +is only a joke, something like a jest, so to speak, a motive, if I may +call it that. + +SCHLOSS. + +To tell you my honest opinion, I take the whole thing to be +a trick to spread sentiment among the people, give them suggestions. +You'll see if I'm not right. A revolutionary play, as far as I can +understand. + +FISCHER. + +I agree with you, too, for otherwise the style would be +horribly offensive. For my part I must admit I never could believe in +witches or spirits, not to mention _Puss in Boots_. + +SCHLOSS. + +The age of these phantoms is past. Why, there comes Leutner; perhaps +he can tell us more. + + [_Leutner pushes himself through the crowd_.] + +LEUTNER. + +Good evening, good evening! Well, how are you? + +MÜLLER. + +Do tell us, will you, what sort of play we're having tonight? + + [_The music begins_.] + +LEUTNER. + +So late already? Why, I've come in the nick of time. About the play? I +have just been speaking with the author; he is at the theatre and +helping dress the tom-cat. + +MANY VOICES. + +Is helping?--The author?--The cat? So a cat will appear, after all? + +LEUTNER. + +Yes, indeed, why his name is even on the bill. + +FISCHER. + +I say, who's playing that part? + +LEUTNER. + +The strange actor, of course, the great man. + +MÜLLER. + +Indeed? But how can they possibly play such nonsense? + +LEUTNER. + +For a change, the author thinks. + +FISCHER. + +A fine change, why not Bluebeard too, and Prince Kobold? Indeed! Some +excellent subjects for the drama! + +MÜLLER. + +But how are they going to dress the cat?--And I wonder whether he +wears real boots? + +LEUTNER. + +I am just as impatient as all of you. + +FISCHER. + +But shall we really have such stuff played to us? We've come here out +of curiosity, to be sure, but still we have taste. + +MÜLLER. + +I feel like making a noise. + +LEUTNER. + +It's rather cold, too. I'll make a start. (_He stamps with his feet, +the others fall in_.) + +WIESENER (_on the other side_). + +What does this pounding mean? + +LEUTNER. + +That's to rescue good taste. + +WIESENER. + +Well, then I won't be the last, either. (_He stamps_.) + +VOICES. + +Be quiet, or you can't hear the music. (_All are stamping_.) + +SCHLOSS. + +But, I say, we really ought to let them go through the play, for, +after all, we've given our money anyhow; afterward we'll pound so +they'll hear us out doors. + +ALL. + +No, they'll now--taste--rules--art--otherwise everything will go to +ruin. + +A CANDLE-SNUFFER. + +Gentlemen, shall the police be sent in? + +LEUTNER. + +We have paid, we represent the public, and therefore we will have our +own good taste and no farces. + +THE PLAYWRIGHT (_behind the scenes_). + +The play will begin immediately. + +MÜLLER. + +No play--we want no play--we want good taste-- + +ALL. + +Good taste! good taste! + +PLAYWR. + +I am puzzled--what do you mean, if I may ask? + +SCHLOSS. + +Good taste! Are you an author and don't even know what good taste +means? + +PLAYWR. + +Consider a young beginner-- + +SCHLOSS. + +We want to know nothing about beginners--we want to see a decent +play-a play in good taste! + +PLAYWR. + +What sort? What kind? + +MÜLLER. + +Domestic stories--elopements--brothers and sisters from the +country--something like that. + + [_The Author comes out from behind the curtain_.] + +PLAYWR. + +Gentlemen-- + +ALL. + +Is that the author? + +FISCHER. + +He doesn't look much like an author. + +SCHLOSS. + +Impertinent fellow! + +MÜLLER. + +His hair isn't even trimmed. + +PLAYWR. + +Gentlemen-pardon my boldness. + +FISCHER. + +How can you write such plays? Why haven't you trained yourself? + +PLAYWR. + +Grant me just one minute's audience before you condemn me. I know that +the honorable public must pass judgment on the author, and that from +them there is no appeal, but I know the justice of an honorable +public, and I am assured they will not frighten me away from a course +in which I so need their indulgent guidance. + +FISCHER. + +He doesn't talk badly. + +MÜLLER. + +He's more courteous than I thought. + +SCHLOSS. + +He has respect for the public, after all. + +PLAYWR. + +I am ashamed to present to such illustrious judges the modest +inspiration of my Muse; it is only the skill of our actors which still +consoles me to some extent, otherwise I should be sunk in despair +without further ado. + +FISCHER. + +I am sorry for him. + +MÜLLER. + +A good fellow! + +PLAYWR. + +When I heard your worthy stamping--nothing has ever frightened me so, +I am still pale and trembling and do not myself comprehend how I have +attained to the courage of thus appearing before you. + +LEUTNER. + +Well, clap, then! (_All clap_.) + +PLAYWR. + +I wanted to make an attempt to furnish amusement by means of humor, by +cheerfulness and real jokes, and hope I have been successful, since +our newest plays so seldom afford us an opportunity to laugh. + +[Illustration: #PUSS IN BOOTS# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +MÜLLER. + +That's certainly true! + +LEUTNER. + +He's right--that man. + +SCHLOSS. + +Bravo! Bravo! + +ALL. + +Bravo! Bravo! (_They clap_.) + +PLAYWR. + +I leave you, honored sirs, to decide now whether my attempt is to be +rejected entirely--trembling, I withdraw, and the play will begin. +(_He bows very respectfully and goes behind the curtain_.) + +ALL. + +Bravo! Bravo! + +VOICES FROM THE GALLERY. + +_Da capo!_-- + +[_All are laughing. The music begins again; meanwhile the curtain +rises_.] + + + +ACT I + +_Small room in a peasant's cottage_ + +LORENZ, BARTHEL, GOTTLIEB. The tom-cat HINZE, _is lying on a bench by +the stove_. + +LORENZ. + +I think that after the death of our father, our little fortune can be +divided easily. You know the deceased has left only three pieces of +property--a horse, an ox, and that cat there. I, as the eldest, will +take the horse; Barthel, second after me, gets the ox, and so the cat +is naturally left for our youngest brother. + +LEUTNER (_in the pit_). + +For Heaven's sake! Did any one ever see such an exposition! Just see +how far dramatic art has degenerated! + +MÜLLER. + +But I understand everything perfectly well. + +LEUTNER. + +That's just the trouble, you should give the spectator a cunning +suggestion, not throw the matter right into his teeth. + +MÜLLER. + +But now you know, don't you, where you are? + +LEUTNER. + +Yes, but you certainly mustn't know that so quickly; why, the very +best part of the fun consists in getting at it little by little. + +BARTHEL. + +I think, brother Gottlieb, you will also be satisfied with this +division; unfortunately you are the youngest, and so you must grant us +some privileges. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, to be sure. + +SCHLOSS. + +But why doesn't the court of awards interfere in the inheritance? What +improbabilities! + +LORENZ. + +So then we're going now, dear Gottlieb; farewell, don't let time hang +heavy on your hands. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Good-bye. + + [_Exit the brothers_.] + +GOTTLIEB (_alone_). + +They are going away--and I am alone. We all three have our lodgings. +Lorenz, of course, can till the ground with his horse, Barthel can +slaughter and pickle his ox and live on it a while--but what am I, +poor unfortunate, to do with my cat? At the most, I can have a muff +for the winter made out of his fur, but I think he is even shedding it +now. There he lies asleep quite comfortably--poor Hinze! Soon we shall +have to part. I am sorry I brought him up, I know him as I know +myself--but he will have to believe me, I cannot help myself, I must +really sell him. He looks at me as though he understood. I could +almost begin to cry. + + [_He walks up and down, lost in thought_.] + +MÜLLER. + +Well, you see now, don't, you, that it's going to be a touching +picture of family life? The peasant is poor and without money; now, in +the direst need, he will sell his faithful pet to some susceptible +young lady, and in the end that will be the foundation of his good +fortune. Probably it is an imitation of Kotzebue's _Parrot_; here the +bird is replaced by a cat and the play runs on of itself. + +FISCHER. + +Now that it's working out this way, I am satisfied too. + +HINZE, the tom-cat (_rises, stretches, arches his back, yawns, then +speaks_). + +My dear Gottlieb--I really sympathize with you. + +GOTTLIEB (_astonished_). + +What, puss, you are speaking? + +THE CRITICS (_in the pit_). + +The cat is talking? What does that mean, pray? + +FISCHER. + +It's impossible for me to get the proper illusion here. + +MÜLLER. + +Rather than let myself be disappointed like this I never want to see +another play all my life. + +HINZE. + +Why should I not be able to speak, Gottlieb? + +GOTTLIEB. + +I should not have suspected it; I never heard a cat speak in all my +life. + +HINZE. + +Because we do not join in every conversation, you think we're nothing +but dogs. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I think your only business is to catch mice. + +HINZE. + +If we had not, in our intercourse with human beings, got a certain +contempt for speech, we could all speak. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, I'll own that! But why don't you give any one an opportunity to +discover you? + +HINZE. + +That's to avoid responsibility, for if once the power of speech were +inflicted on us so-called animals, there wouldn't be any joy left in +the world. What isn't the dog compelled to do and learn! The horse! +They are foolish animals to show their intelligence, they must give +way entirely to their vanity; we cats still continue to be the freest +race because, with all our skill, we can act so clumsily that human +beings quite give up the idea of training us. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But why do you disclose all this to me? + +HINZE. + +Because you are a good, a noble man, one of the few who take no +delight in servility and slavery; see, that is why I disclose myself +to you completely and fully. + +GOTTLIEB (_gives him his hand_). + +Good friend! + +HINZE. + +Human beings labor under the delusion that the only remarkable thing +about us is that instinctive purring which arises from a certain +feeling of comfort; for that reason they often stroke us awkwardly and +then we usually purr to secure ourselves against blows. But if they +knew how to manage us in the right way, believe me, they would +accustom our good nature to everything, and Michel, your neighbor's +tom-cat, would even at times be pleased to jump through a hoop for the +king. + +GOTTLIEB. + +You're right in that. + +HINZE. + +I love you, Master Gottlieb, very much. You have never stroked me the +wrong way, you have let me sleep when I felt like it, you have +objected whenever your brothers wanted to take me up, to go with me +into the dark, and see the so-called electrical sparks--for all this I +now want to show my gratitude. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Noble-hearted Hinze! Ah, how unjustly do they speak ill of you and +scornfully, doubting your loyalty and devotion! My eyes are being +opened--how my knowledge of human nature is increasing and so +unexpectedly! + +FISCHER. + +Friends, where has our hope for a picture of family life gone to? + +LEUTNER. + +Why it is almost too nonsensical. + +SCHLOSS. + +I feel as though I were in a dream. + +HINZE. + +You are a good man, Master Gottlieb; but, do not take it ill of me, +you are somewhat narrow, confined--to speak out freely, not one of the +best heads. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Alas, no! + +HINZE. + +You don't know now, for example, what you want to do. + +GOTTLIEB. + +You read my thoughts perfectly. + +HINZE. + +If you had a muff made out of my fur-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Do not take it amiss, comrade, that this idea just passed through my +mind. + +HINZE. + +Why, no, it was an altogether human thought. Can you think of no way +of managing? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Not a thing! + +HINZE. + +You might carry me around and show me for money; but that is never a +sure means of support. + +GOTTLIEB. + +No. + +HINZE. + +You might publish a journal or a German paper, with the motto, _Homo +sum_--or a novel; I should be willing to collaborate with you--but +that is too much bother. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes. + +HINZE. + +Well, I'll see that I take even better care of you. Depend upon it, +you are yet to become very happy through me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +O, best, most noble man. (_He embraces him tenderly_.) + +HINZE. + +But you must also trust me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Entirely. Why, now I realize your honorable spirit. + +HINZE. + +Well, then, do me a favor and bring the shoemaker immediately to take +my measure for a pair of boots. + +GOTTLIEB. + +The shoemaker? Boots? + +HINZE. + +You are surprised, but in accomplishing what I intend to do for you, I +have to walk and run so much that I have to wear boots. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But why not shoes? + +HINZE. + +Master Gottlieb, you do not understand the matter; they must lend me +some dignity, an imposing air, in short, a certain manliness to which +one never attains in shoes. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, as you think best; but the shoemaker will be surprised. + +HINZE. + +Not at all; we must act only as if it were nothing remarkable that I +should wish to wear boots; one gets used to everything. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, indeed; why, my conversation with you has actually become quite +easy! But another thing; now that we have become such good friends, do +call me by my first name, too; why do you still want to stand on +ceremony with me? + +HINZE. + +As you like, Gottlieb. + +GOTTLIEB. + +There's the shoemaker passing. Hey! Pst! Friend Leichdorn! Will you +please stop a moment? + + [_The shoemaker comes in_.] + +SHOEMAK. + +God bless you! What's the news? + +GOTTLIEB. + +I have ordered no work from you for a long time. + +SHOEMAK. + +No, my friend, all in all, I have very little to do now. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I should like to have another pair of boots made-- + +SHOEMAK. + +Please take a seat. I have a measure with me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Not for myself, but for my young friend there. + +SHOEMAK. + +For this one here? Very well. + +HINZE (_sits on a chair and holds out his right leg_). + +SHOEMAK. + +Now how should you like it, pussy? + +HINZE. + +In the first place, good soles, then brown flaps, and, above all +things, stiff. + +SHOEMAK. + +Very well. (_He takes the measure_.) Will you be so kind as to draw +your claws in a bit--or rather nails? I have already scratched myself. +(_He takes the measure_.) + +HINZE. + +And they must be finished quickly. (_As his leg is being stroked he +begins to purr involuntarily_.) + +SHOEMAK. + +The pussy is comfortable. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, he's a good-humored fellow. He has just come from school, what +they usually call a "smarty." + +SHOEMAK. + +Well, good-bye. + + [_Exit_.] + +GOTTLIEB. + +Wouldn't you perhaps like to have your whiskers trimmed too? + +HINZE. + +On no account, I look so much more respectable, and you certainly must +know that cats immediately become unmanly after that. A tom-cat +without whiskers is but a contemptible creature. + +GOTTLIEB. + +If I only knew what you are planning! + +HINZE. + +You'll find out in due time. Now I want to take a little walk on the +roofs; there's a fine, open view there and you're likely to catch a +dove too. + +GOTTLIEB. + +As a good friend, I want to warn you not to let yourself be caught at +it. + +HINZE. + +Don't worry, I'm not a novice. Meanwhile, good-bye. + + [_Exit_.] + +GOTTLIEB (_alone_). + +Natural history always says that cats cannot be trusted and that they +belong to the lion family, and I am in such fearful dread of a lion. Now +if the cat had no conscience, he could run away from me afterward with +the boots for which I must now give my last penny and then sell them +somewhere for nothing, or it's possible that he wants to make a bid for +favor with the shoemaker and then go into his service. But he has a +tom-cat already. No, Hinze, my brothers have betrayed me, and now I +will try my luck with you. He spoke so nobly, he was so touched--there +he sits on the roof yonder, stroking his whiskers--forgive me, my fine +friend, that I could even for a moment doubt your magnanimity. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISCHER. + +What nonsense! + +MÜLLER. + +What does the cat need those boots for?--to be able to walk better? +Silly stuff! + +SCHLOSS. + +But it seems as though I saw a cat before me. + +LEUTNER. + +Be still, the scene is changing. + +_Hall in the royal palace_ + +_The_ KING _with crown and sceptre. The_ PRINCESS, _his daughter_ + +KING. + +A thousand handsome princes, my precious daughter, have already sued +for your hand and laid their kingdoms at your feet, but you have +continued to refuse them. Tell us the reason for this, my treasure. + +PRINCESS. + +My most gracious father, I have always believed that my heart must +first feel certain emotions before my neck would bow under the yoke of +marriage. For a marriage without love, they say, is truly hell upon +earth. + +KING. + +That is right, my dear daughter. Ah, indeed, indeed, have you spoken +words of truth: a hell on earth! Alas, if only I were not qualified to +discuss it! Indeed I should have preferred to remain ignorant! But as +it is, dear treasure, I have my tale to tell, as they say. Your +mother, my consort of blessed memory--ah, Princess, see, the tears +rush to my eyes even in my old age--she was a good queen, she wore the +crown with an indescribable air of majesty--but she gave me very +little peace. Well, may her ashes rest in peace among her royal +relatives. + +PRINCESS. + +Your majesty excites yourself too much. + +KING. + +When the memory of it returns to me, O my child, on my knees I would +entreat you--do be careful in marrying! It is a great truth that linen +and a bridegroom must not be bought by candle-light, a truth which +should be found in every book. What did I suffer! No day passed +without a quarrel; I could not sleep peacefully, could not conduct my +administrative business quietly, I could not think of anything, could +not read a book--I was always interrupted. And still my spirit +sometimes yearns for you, my blessed Klothilde! My eyes smart--I am a +real old fool. + +PRINCESS (_tenderly_). + +My father! + +KING. + +I tremble to think of the dangers that face you, for, even if you do +fall in love now, my daughter, ah! you should just see what thick +books wise men have filled on this subject--see, your very passion, +then, can also make you miserable. The happiest, the most blissful +emotion can ruin us; moreover, love is, as it were, a magic cup; +instead of nectar we often drink poison; then our pillow is wet with +tears; all hope, all consolation are gone. (_The sound of a trumpet is +heard_.) Why, it isn't dinner-time yet, is it? Probably another new +prince who wants to fall in love with you. Take care, my daughter; you +are my only child, and you do not realize how near my heart your +happiness lies. (_He kisses her and leaves the hall. Applause is heard +in the pit_.) + +FISCHER. + +That's a scene for you, in which you can find sound common sense. + +SCHLOSS. + +I am also moved. + +MÜLLER. + +He's an excellent sovereign. + +FISCHER. + +Now he didn't exactly have to appear with a crown. + +SCHLOSS. + +It entirely spoils the sympathy one feels for him as an affectionate +father. + +THE PRINCESS (_alone_). + +I do not understand at all; why, not one of the princes has yet +touched my heart with love. I always keep in mind my father's +warnings; he is a great sovereign and nevertheless a good father too, +and is always thinking of my happiness; if only he did not have such a +hasty temper! But fortune and misfortune are always coupled thus. My +joy I find in the arts and sciences, for books constitute all my +happiness. + +_The_ PRINCESS, LEANDER, _the court scholar_. + +LEANDER. + +Well, your Royal Highness! (_They sit down_.) + +PRINCESS. + +Here. Master Leander, is my essay. I have entitled it _Thoughts at +Night_. + +LEANDER (_reads_). + +Excellent! Inspired! Ah! I feel as though I hear the hour of midnight +striking. When did you write it? + +PRINCESS. + +Yesterday noon, after dinner. + +LEANDER. + +Beautifully conceived! Truly, beautifully conceived! But with your +most gracious permission! _The moon shines sadly down in the world._ +If you will not take it amiss, it should read: _into the world_. + +PRINCESS. + +Very well, I will note that for the future; it's too stupid that +poetry should be made so hard for us; one can't write five or six +lines without making a mistake. + +LEANDER. + +That's the obstinacy of language, so to speak. + +PRINCESS. + +Are not the emotions tenderly and delicately phrased! + +LEANDER. + +Indescribably! It is scarcely comprehensible how a feminine mind could +write such a thing. + +PRINCESS. + +Now I might try my hand at moonlight descriptions. Don't you think so? + +LEANDER. + +Naturally you keep going farther all the time; you keep rising higher. + +PRINCESS. + +I have also begun a piece: _The Unhappy Misanthrope; or, Lost Peace +and Restored Innocence!_ + +LEANDER. + +Even the title itself is fascinating. + +PRINCESS. + +And then I feel an incomprehensible desire within me to write some +horrible ghost story. As I said before, if it were not for those +grammatical errors! + +LEANDER. + +Do not worry about that, incomparable princess! They are easily +corrected. + + [_Groom from the Chamber enters._] + +GROOM. + +The Prince of Malsinki, who has just arrived, wishes to wait on your +royal highness. + + [_Exit._] + +LEANDER. + +Your obedient servant. + + [_Exit._] + + +_Prince_ NATHANIEL _of Malsinki. The_ KING + +KING. + +Here, Prince, is my daughter, a young, simple creature, as you +see her before you. (_Aside._) Be polite, my daughter, courteous; he +is an illustrious prince from afar; his country is not even on my map, +I have already looked it up; I have an amazing amount of respect for +him. + +PRINCESS. + +I am glad to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance. + +NATHAN. + +Beautiful Princess, the report of your beauty has been spread +so widely over the whole world that I have come here from a far +distant corner for the happiness of seeing you face to face. + +KING. + +Indeed it is astonishing, how many countries and kingdoms there +are! You would not believe how many thousand crown-princes have been +here already, to pay their addresses to my daughter; sometimes they +arrive by dozens, especially when the weather is fine--and now you +have come all the way from--I beg your pardon, topography is such a +very extensive subject--in what region does your country lie? + +NATHAN. + +Mighty king, if you travel from here first down the great +highway, then you turn to the right and go on; but when you reach a +mountain, turn to the left again, then you go to the ocean and sail +directly north (if the wind is favorable, of course), and so, if the +journey is successful, you reach my dominions in a year and a half. + +KING. + +The deuce! I must have my court scholar explain that to me. You +are probably a neighbor of the North Pole or Zodiac, or something like +that, I suppose! + +NATHAN. + +Not that I know of. + +KING. + +Perhaps somewhere near the savages? + +NATHAN. + +I beg your pardon, all my subjects are very tame. + +KING. + +But you must live confoundedly far away. I can't get a clear +idea of it yet. + +NATHAN. + +The geography of my country is still not exactly fixed; I +expect to discover more every day; and then it may easily come about +that we shall even become neighbors in the end. + +KING. + +That will be splendid! And if, after all, a few countries still +stand in our way, I will help you in your discoveries. My neighbor is +not a good friend of mine, so to speak, and he has a fine country; all +the raisins come from there; why, I should be only too glad to have +it! But another thing; do tell me, how, living so far away, can you +speak our language so fluently! + +NATHAN. + +Hush! + +KING. + +What? + +NATHAN. + +Hush! hush! + +KING. + +I do not understand. + +NATHANIEL, (_softly to him_). + +Do be quiet about it, pray, for +otherwise the audience down there will surely notice that it is really +very unnatural. + +KING. + +It doesn't matter. They clapped before and so I can afford to +take a chance. + +NATHAN. + +You see, it is only for the sake of the drama that I speak your +language; for otherwise, of course, the matter is incomprehensible. + +KING. + +Ah, so! Well, come, Prince, the table is set! + +[_The_ PRINCE _escorts the princess out, the_ KING _precedes_.] + +FISCHER. + +Cursed improbabilities there are in this play! + +SCHLOSS. + +And the king doesn't remain at all true to his character. + +LEUTNER. + +Why, nothing but the natural should ever be presented on the +stage! The prince should speak an altogether unknown language and have +an interpreter with him; the princess should make grammatical errors, +since she herself admits that she writes incorrectly. + +MÜLLER. + +Of course! Of course! The whole thing is unquestionable +nonsense; the author himself is always forgetting what he has said the +moment before. + +_The scene is laid in front of a tavern._ + +LORENZ, KUNZ, MICHEL _are sitting on a bench. The_ HOST + +LORENZ. + +I shall have to be going again soon! I still have a long way +home. + +HOST. + +You are a subject of the king, aren't you? + +LORENZ. + +Yes, indeed; what do you call your good ruler? + +HOST. + +He is just called Bugbear. + +LORENZ. + +That is a foolish title. Why, has he no other name? + +HOST. + +When he has edicts issued, they always read: For the good of the +public, the _Law_ demands--hence I believe that is his real name. All +petitions, too, are always laid before the _Law_. He is a fearful man. + +LORENZ. + +Still, I should rather be under a king; why, a king is more +dignified. They say the Bugbear is a very ungracious master. + +HOST. + +He is not especially gracious, that is true of course, but, on +the other hand, he is justice itself. Cases are even sent to him from +abroad and he must settle them. + +LORENZ. + +They say wonderful things about him; the story goes he can +transform himself into any animal. + +HOST. + +It is true, and then he travels around _incognito_ and spies out +the sentiments of his subjects; that's the very reason why we trust no +cat, no strange dog or horse, because we always think the ruler might +probably be inside of them. + +LORENZ. + +Then surely we are in a better position, too. Our king never +goes out without wearing his crown, his cloak, and his sceptre; by +these, he is known three hundred paces away. Well, take care of +yourselves. + + [_Exit._] + +HOST. + +Now he is already in his own country. + +KUNZ. + +Is the border line so near? + +HOST. + +Surely, that very tree belongs to the king; you can see from +this very spot everything that goes on in his country; this border +line here is a lucky thing for me. I should have been bankrupt long +ago if the deserters from over there had not supported me; almost +every day several come. + +MICHEL. + +Is the service there so hard? + +HOST. + +Not that; but running away is so easy, and just because it is so +strictly forbidden the fellows get such an exceptional desire to +desert. Look, I bet that's another one coming! + + [_A soldier comes running._] + +SOLDIER. + +A can of beer, host! Quick! + +HOST. + +Who are you? + +SOLDIER. + +A deserter. + +MICHEL. + +Perhaps 'twas his love for his parents which made him desert. +Poor fellow, do take pity on him, host. + +HOST. + +Why if he has money, there won't be any lack of beer. (_Goes +into the house_.) + + [_Two hussars come riding and dismount_.] + +1ST HUSS. + +Well, thank God, we've got so far! Your health, neighbor! + +SOLDIER. + +This is the border. + +2D HUSS. + +Yes, Heaven be thanked! Didn't we have to ride for the sake +of that fellow? Beer, host! + +HOST (_with several glasses_). + +Here, gentlemen, a fine, cool drink; +you are all pretty warm. + +1ST HUSS. + +Here, you rascal! To your health! + +SOLDIER. + +Best thanks, I will meantime hold your horses for you. + +2D HUSS. + +The fellow can run! It's good that the border is never so +very far away; for otherwise it would be deucedly hard service. + +1ST HUSS. + +Well, we must go back, I suppose. Good-bye, deserter! Much +luck on your way! + + [_They mount and ride away_.] + +HOST. + +Will you stay here? + +SOLDIER. + +No, I am going away; why I must enlist with the neighboring +duke. + +HOST. + +Say, come and see me when you desert again. + +SOLDIER. + +Certainly. Farewell! + +[_They shake hands. Exeunt soldier and guests, exit host into the +house. The curtain falls_.] + +INTERLUDE + +FISCHER. + +Why, it's getting wilder and wilder! What was the purpose of +the last scene, I wonder? + +LEUTNER. + +Nothing at all, it is entirely superfluous; only to introduce +some new nonsense. The theme of the cat is now lost entirely and there +is no fixed point of view at all. + +SCHLOSS. + +I feel exactly as though I were intoxicated. + +MÜLLER. + +I say, in what period is the play supposed to be taking place? +The hussars, of course, are a recent invention. + +SCHLOSS. + +We simply shouldn't bear it, but stamp hard. Now we haven't +the faintest idea of what the play is coming to. + +FISCHER. + +And no love, either! Nothing in it for the heart, for the +imagination. + +LEUTNER. + +As soon as any more of that nonsense occurs, for my part at +least, I'll begin to stamp. + +WIESENER (_to his neighbor_). + +I like the play now. + +NEIGHBOR. + +Very fine, indeed, very fine; a great man, the author; he +has imitated the _Magic Flute_ well. + +WIESENER. + +I liked the hussars particularly well; people seldom take +the risk of bringing horses on the stage--and why not? They often have +more sense than human beings. I would rather see a good horse than +many a human being in the more modern plays. + +NEIGHBOR. + +The Moors in Kotzebue--a horse is after all nothing but +another kind of Moor. + +WIESENER. + +Do you not know to what regiment the hussars belonged + +NEIGHBOR. + +I did not even look at them carefully. Too bad they went +away so soon--indeed I'd rather like to see a whole play with nothing +but hussars. I like the cavalry so much. + +LEUTNER (_to_ BÖTTICHER). + +What do you think of all this? + +BÖTTICH. + +Why, I simply can't get the excellent acting of the man who +plays the cat out of my head. What a study! What art! What +observation! What costuming! + +SCHLOSS. + +That is true; he really does look like a large tom-cat. + +BÖTTICH. + +And just notice his whole mask, as I would rather call his +costume, for since he has so completely disguised his natural +appearance, this expression is far more fitting. But I say, God bless +the ancients when blessing is due. You probably do not know that the +ancients acted all parts, without exception, in masks, as you will +find in _Athenaeus, Pollux_ and others. It is hard, you see, to know +all these things so accurately, because one must now and then look up +those books oneself to find them. At the same time, however, one then +has the advantage of being able to quote them. There is a difficult +passage in Pausanias. + +FISCHER. + +You were going to be kind enough to speak of the cat. + +BÖTTICH. + +Why, yes; and I only meant to say all the preceding by the +way, hence I beg you most earnestly to consider it as a note; and, to +return to the cat, have you noticed, I wonder, that he is not one of +those black cats? No, on the contrary, he is almost entirely white and +has only a few black spots; that expresses his good-nature +excellently; moreover, the theme of the whole play, all the emotions +to which it should appeal, are suggested in this very fur. + +LEUTNER. + +That is true. + +FISCHER. + +The curtain is going up again! + + + +ACT II + +_Room in a peasant's house_ + +GOTTLIEB, HINZE. _Both are sitting at a small table and eating_. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Did it taste good? + +HINZE. + +Very good, very fine. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But now my fate must soon be determined, for otherwise I do +not know what I am to do. + +HINZE. + +Just have patience a few days longer; why, good fortune must +have some time to grow; who would expect to become happy all of a +sudden, so to speak? My good man, that happens only in books; in the +world of reality things do not move so quickly. + +FISCHER. + +Now just listen, the cat dares to speak of the world of +reality! I feel almost like going home, for I'm afraid I shall go mad. + +LEUTNER. + +It looks almost as if that is what the writer intended. + +MÜLLER. + +A splendid kind of artistic enjoyment, to be mad, I must +admit! + +GOTTLIEB. + +If I only knew, dear Hinze, how you have come by this amount +of experience, this intelligence! + +HINZE. + +Are you, then, under the impression that it is in vain one lies +for days at the stove with one's eyes tight shut? I always kept +studying there quietly. In secret and unobserved does the power of the +intelligence grow; hence it is a sign that one has made the least +progress when one sometimes has a mind to crane one's neck around as +far as possible, so as to look back at the ground one has already +covered. Now do be kind enough to untie my napkin. + +GOTTLIEB (_does it_). + +A blessing on good food! (_They kiss._) Content +yourself with that. + +HINZE. + +I thank you from the bottom of my heart. + +GOTTLIEB. + +The boots fit very nicely, and you have a charming little +foot. + +HINZE. + +That is only because we always walk on our toes, as you must +already have read in your natural history. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I have great respect for you--on account of the boots. + +HINZE (_hangs a soldier's knapsack about his neck_). + +I am going now. +See, I have also made myself a bag with a drawing-string. + +GOTTLIEB. + +What's it all for? + +HINZE. + +Just let me alone! I want to be a hunter. Why, where is my +cane? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Here. + +HINZE. + +Well, then, good-bye. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB. + +A hunter? I can't understand the man. + + [_Exit._] + + +_Open Field_ + +HINZE (_with cane, knapsack, and bag_). + +Splendid weather! It's such a +beautiful, warm day; afterward I must lie down a bit in the sun. (_He +spreads out his bag._) Well, fortune, stand by me. Of course, when I +think that this capricious goddess of fortune so seldom favors +shrewdly laid plans, that she always ends up by disgracing the +intelligence of mortals, I feel as though I should lose all my +courage. Yet, be quiet, my heart; a kingdom is certainly worth the +trouble of working and sweating some for it! If only there are no dogs +around here; I can't bear those creatures at all; it is a race that I +despise because they so willingly submit to the lowest servitude to +human beings. They can't do anything but either fawn or bite; they +haven't fashionable manners at all, a thing which is so necessary in +company. There's no game to be caught. (_He begins to sing a hunting +song: "I steal through the woods so still and wild," etc. A +nightingale in the bush near-by begins to sing._) She sings +gloriously, the songstress of the grove; but how delicious she must +taste! The great people of the earth are, after all, right lucky in +the fact that they can eat as many nightingales and larks as they +like; we poor common people must content ourselves with their singing, +with the beauty in nature, with the incomprehensibly sweet harmony. +It's a shame I can't hear anything sing without getting a desire to +eat it. Nature! Nature! Why do you always destroy my finest emotions +by having created me thus! I feel almost like taking off my boots and +softly climbing up that tree yonder; she must be perching there. +(_Stamping in the pit._) The nightingale is good-natured not to let +herself be interrupted even by this martial music; she must taste +delicious; I am forgetting all about my hunting with these sweet +dreams. Truly, there's no game to be caught. Why, who's there? + + [_Two lovers enter._] + +HE. + +I say, my sweet life, do you hear the nightingale? + +SHE. + +I am not deaf, my good friend. + +HE. + +How my heart overflows with joyousness when I see all harmonious +nature thus gathered about me, when every tone but reëchoes the +confession of my love, when all heaven bows down to diffuse its ether +over me. + +SHE. + +You are raving, my dear! + +HE. + +Do not call the most natural emotions of my heart raving. (_He +kneels down._) See, I swear to you, here in the presence of glad +heaven-- + +HINZE (_approaching them courteously_). + +Kindly pardon me--would you +not take the trouble to go somewhere else? You are disturbing a hunt +here with your lovely affection. + +HE. + +Be the sun my witness, the earth--and what else? Thou, thyself, +dearer to me than earth, sun, and all the elements. What is it, good +friend? + +HINZE. + +The hunt--I beg most humbly. + +HE. + +Barbarian, who are you, to dare to interrupt the oaths of love? +You are not of woman born, you belong outside humanity. + +HINZE. + +If you would only consider, sir-- + +SHE. + +Then wait just a second, good friend; you see, I'm sure, that my +lover, lost in the intoxication of the moment, is down on his knees. + +HE. + +Dost thou believe me now? + +SHE. + +Oh, didn't I believe you even before you spoke a word? (_She +bends down to him affectionately._) Dearest! I love you! Oh, +inexpressibly! + +HE. + +Am I mad? Oh, and if I am not, why do I not become so immediately +with excess of joy, wretched, despicable creature that I am? I am no +longer on the earth; look at me well, dearest, and tell me: Am I not +perhaps standing in the sun? + +SHE. + +You are in my arms, and they shall never release you either. + +HE. + +Oh, come, this open field is too narrow for my emotions, we must +climb the highest mountain, to tell all nature how happy we are. + +[_Exit the lovers, quickly and full of delight. Loud applause and +bravos in the pit._] + +WIESENER (_clapping_). + +The lover thoroughly exhausted himself. Oh, my, +I gave myself such a blow on the hand that it swelled right up. + +NEIGHBOR. + +You do not know how to restrain yourself when you are glad. + +WIESENER. + +Yes, I am always that way. + +FISCHER. + +Ah!--that was certainly something for the heart; that makes +one feel good again! + +LEUTNER. + +Really beautiful diction in that scene! + +MÜLLER. + +But I wonder whether it is essential to the whole? + +SCHLOSS. + +I never worry about the whole; if I cry, I cry--that's +enough; that was a divine passage. + +HINZE. + +Such a pair of lovers is good for something in the world after +all; they have fallen plump into the poetical again down there and the +stamping has ceased. There's no game to be caught. + +(_A rabbit creeps into the bag; he rushes over and draws the strings +over him._) + +Look here, good friend! A kind of game that is a cousin of mine, so to +speak; yes, that's the way with the world nowadays, relatives against +relatives, brother against brother; if one wants to get through the +world oneself, one must push others out of the way. + +(_He takes the rabbit out of the bag and puts it into the knapsack._) + +Hold! Hold!--truly I must take care not to devour the game myself. I +must just tie up the knapsack quickly only to be able to restrain my +passion. Fie! for shame, Hinze! Is it not the duty of the nobleman to +sacrifice himself and his desires to the happiness of his brother +creatures? That's the reason why we live, and whoever cannot do +that--oh, it were better for him if he had never been born! + +(_He is on the point of withdrawing; violent applause and shouting of +"Encore;" he has to repeat the last beautiful passage, then he bows +respectfully and goes of with the rabbit._) + +FISCHER. + +Oh, what a noble man! + +MÜLLER. + +What a beautifully human state of mind! + +SCHLOSS. + +One can still be benefited by things like this, but when I +see such nonsense I should like to smash it with a single blow. + +LEUTNER. + +I began to feel quite sad too--the nightingale--the +lovers--the last tirade--why the play has some really beautiful +passages after all! + +_Hall in the palace_ + +_Large company. The_ KING. _The_ PRINCESS. _Prince_ NATHANIEL. _The_ +COOK (_in gala costume_) + +KING (_sitting on throne_). + +Over here, cook; now is the time to speak +and answer; I want to examine the matter myself. + +COOK (_falls on his knees_). + +May it please your majesty to express +your commands for your highness's most faithful servant? + +KING. + +One cannot expend too much effort, my friends, in keeping a +king--on whose shoulders lies the well-being of a whole country and +that of innumerable subjects--always in good humor. For if he falls +into a bad humor, he very easily becomes a tyrant, a monster; for good +humor encourages cheerfulness, and cheerfulness, according to the +observations of all philosophers, makes man good; whereas melancholy, +on the other hand, is to be considered a vice for the very reason that +it encourages all the vices. Whose duty is it, I now ask, in whose +power does it so lie, to preserve the good spirits of the monarch, so +much as in the hands of a cook? Are not rabbits very innocent animals? +My favorite dish--by means of these animals I could succeed in never +becoming tired of making my country happy--and these rabbits he lets +me do without! Sucking pigs and sucking pigs daily. Rascal, I am +disgusted with this at last! + +COOK. + +Let not my king condemn me unheard. Heaven is my witness, that I +took all pains to secure those pretty white animals; I even wanted to +purchase them at a rather high price, but there are absolutely none to +be had. If it were possible to get possession of even one of these +rabbits, do you think you would be allowed to doubt for one moment +longer the love your subjects bear you? + +KING. + +Stop with those roguish words, betake yourself to the kitchen +and show by your action that you love your king. (_Exit cook._) Now I +turn to you, my prince, and to you my daughter. I have been informed, +worthy prince, that my daughter does not love you; she is a +thoughtless, silly girl, but I still give her credit for so much +common sense as probably to have several reasons. She causes me care +and sadness, grief and worry, and my old eyes are flooded with tears +when I think of how she will get along after my death. "You will be +left an old maid," I have told her a thousand times; "take your chance +while it is offered you;" but she will not hear; well, then she'll +have to be made to feel. + +PRINCESS. + +My father-- + +KING (_weeping and sobbing_). + +Go, ungrateful, disobedient girl--by +your refusal you are drawing me into--alas, only too early a grave! +(_He supports himself on the throne, covers his face with his cloak +and weeps bitterly._) + +FISCHER. + +Why, the king does not remain true to his character for a +moment. + + [_Groom of the Chamber comes in._] + +GROOM. + +Your majesty, a strange man is outside and begs to be admitted +before your majesty. + +KING (_sobbing_). + +Who is it? + +GROOM. + +I beg pardon, my king, for not being able to answer this +question. Judging by his long white beard, one should say he is an old +man, and his face completely covered with hair should almost confirm +one in this opinion, but then again he has such bright, youthful eyes, +such a smooth, flexible back, that one cannot understand him. He +appears to be a wealthy man; for he is wearing a pair of fine boots +and as far as I can infer from his exterior he seems to be a hunter. + +KING. + +Bring him in; I am curious to see him. + + [_Groom goes and returns directly with_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +With your majesty's most gracious permission the Count of +Carabas makes bold to present you with a rabbit. + +KING (_delighted_). + +A rabbit? Do you hear it, really, people? Ah, fate +has become reconciled with me again! A rabbit? + +HINZE (_takes it out of his knapsack_). + +Here, great monarch! + +KING. + +Here--just hold the sceptre a moment, prince. (_He feels the +rabbit._) Fat! nice and fat! From the Count of ---- + +HINZE. + +Carabas. + +KING. + +Indeed, he must be an excellent man. I must become better +acquainted with him. Who is the man? Which of you knows him? Why does +he keep himself concealed? If such heads as that are allowed to remain +idle, what will become of our throne! I would cry for joy. _Sends me a +rabbit!_ Groom, give it to the cook directly. + + [_Groom takes it. Exit._] + +NATHAN. + +My king, I beg most humbly to make my departure. + +KING. + +Why, indeed! I had almost forgotten that in my joy! Farewell, +prince, yes, you must make room for other suitors; it cannot be +otherwise. Adieu! I wish you had a highroad all the way home. + + [_Prince kisses his hand. Exit._] + +KING (_shouting_). + +People! Let my historian come! + + [_The historian appears._] + +KING. + +Here, friend, come, here's some material for our history of the +world. You have your book with you, of course! + +HISTORIAN. + +Yes, my king. + +KING. + +Now enter immediately, that on such and such a day (whatever +date we happen to have today) the Count of Carabas sent me a present +of a most delicious rabbit. + + [HISTORIAN _seats himself and writes._] + +KING. + +Do not forget, _Anno currentis_. I must think of everything, +otherwise it's always sure to be done wrong. (_Blast of a trumpet is +heard._) Ah, dinner is ready--come, my daughter, do not weep; if it +isn't one prince, it will be another. Hunter, we thank you for your +trouble. Will you accompany us to the dining-room? + +(_They go_, HINZE _follows_.) + +LEUTNER. + +Pretty soon I shall not be able to stand it any longer; why, +what has happened to the father now, who was so tender to his daughter +at first and touched us all so? + +FISCHER. + +The only thing that vexes me is that not a person in the play +wonders at the cat; the king and all act as though it had to be so. + +SCHLOSS. + +My head is all dizzy with this queer stuff. + +_Royal dining-room_ + +_Large table set. Sound of drums and trumpets. Enter the_ KING, _the_ +PRINCESS, LEANDER, HINZE, _several distinguished guests and_ +JACKPUDDING, _Servants, waiting at the table._ + +KING. + +Let us sit down, otherwise the soup will get cold! Has the +hunter been taken care of? + +SERVANT. + +Yes, your majesty, he will eat at the little table here with +the court fool. + +JACKPUDDING (_to_ HINZE). + +Let us sit down, otherwise the soup will get +cold. + +HINZE (_sits down_). + +With whom have I the honor of dining? + +JACKPUD. + +A man is what he is, Sir Hunter; we cannot all do the same +thing. I am a poor, exiled fugitive, a man who was once, a long time +ago, witty, but who has now become stupid and re-entered service in a +foreign land where he is again considered witty for a while. + +HINZE. + +From what country do you come? + +JACKPUD. + +Unfortunately, only Germany. My countrymen became so wise +about a certain time that they finally forbade all jokes on pain of +punishment; wherever I was seen, I was called by unbearable nicknames, +such as: Absurd, indecent, bizarre--whoever laughed at me was +persecuted like myself, and so I was compelled to go into exile. + +HINZE. + +Poor man! + +JACKPUD. + +There are strange trades in the world, Sir Hunter; cooks live +by eating, tailors by vanity, I, by the laughter of human beings; if +they cease to laugh I must starve. + +[_Murmuring in the pit: A Jackpudding! A Jackpudding!_] + +HINZE. + +I do not eat that vegetable. + +JACKPUD. + +Why? Don't be bashful, help yourself. + +HINZE. + +I tell you, white cabbage does not agree with me. + +JACKPUD. + +It will taste all the better to me. Give me your hand! I must +become better acquainted with you, Sir Hunter. + +HINZE. + +Here! + +JACKPUD. + +Take here the hand of an honest German fellow; I am not +ashamed of being German, as many of my countrymen are. (_He presses +the cat's hand very tightly._) + +HINZE. + +Ow! Ow! (_He resists, growls, clutches_ JACKPUDDING.) + +JACKPUD. + +Oh! Hunter! Are you possessed of the devil? (_He rises and +goes to the king weeping._) Your majesty, the hunter is a perfidious +man; just look at the remembrance of his five fingers he has left on +me. + +KING (_eating_). + +Strange! Now sit down again; wear gloves in the +future when you give him your hand. + +JACKPUD. + +One must guard against you. + +HINZE. + +Why did you take such a hold on me? The deuce take your +pretended honesty! + +JACKPUD. + +Why, you scratch like a cat! + + [HINZE _laughs maliciously_.] + +KING. + +But what's the trouble today, anyhow? Why is there no +intelligent conversation carried on at the table? I do not enjoy a +bite unless my mind has some nourishment too. Court scholar, did you +perhaps fall on your head today? + +LEANDER (_eating_). + +May it please your majesty-- + +KING. + +How far is the sun from the earth? + +LEANDER. + +Two million four hundred thousand and seventy-one-miles. + +KING. + +And the circle in which the planets revolve? + +LEANDER. + +A hundred thousand million miles. + +KING. + +A hundred thousand million! There's nothing in the world I like +better to hear than such great numbers--millions, trillions--that +gives you--something to think about. It's a good deal, isn't it, a +thousand million, more or less? + +LEANDER. + +Human intelligence grows with the numbers. + +KING. + + But tell me, about how large is the whole world in general, +counting fixed stars, milky ways, hoods of mist, and all that? + +LEANDER. + +That cannot be expressed at all. + +KING. + +But you are to express it or (_threatening with his sceptre_)-- + +LEANDER. + +If we consider a million as one, then about ten hundred +thousand trillions of such units which of themselves amount to a +million. + +KING. + +Just think, children, think! Would you believe this bit of +world could be so great? But how that occupies the mind! + +JACKPUD. + +Your majesty, this bowl of rice here seems to me sublimer. + +KING. + +How's that, fool? + +JACKPUD. + +Such sublimities of numbers give no food for thought; one +cannot think, for of course the highest number always finally becomes +the smallest again. Why, you just have to think of all the numbers +possible. I can never count beyond five here. + +KING. + +But say, there's some truth in that. Scholar, how many numbers +are there, anyhow? + +LEANDER. + +An infinite number. + +KING. + +Just tell me quickly the highest number. + +LEANDER. + +There is no highest, because you can always add something to +the highest; human intelligence knows no bounds in this respect. + +KING. + +But in truth it is a remarkable thing, this human mind. + +HINZE. + +You must get disgusted with being a fool here. + +JACKPUD. + +You can introduce nothing new; there are too many working at +the trade. + +LEANDER. + +The fool, my king, can never understand such a thing; on the +whole I am surprised that your majesty is still amused by his insipid +ideas. Even in Germany they tired of him, and here in Utopia you have +taken him up where thousands of the most wonderful and clever +amusements are at our service. He should be thrown out at once, for he +only brings your taste into bad repute. + +KING (_throws the sceptre at his head_). + +Sir Brazenbold of a scholar! +What do you dare to say? The fool pleases _me, me_, his king, and if I +like him, how dare you say that the man is ridiculous? You are the +court scholar and he the court fool; you both have equal positions; +the only difference is that he is dining at the little table with the +strange hunter. The fool displays his nonsense at the table, and you +carry on an intelligent conversation at the table; both are only to +while away the time for me and make my meal taste good: where, then, +lies the great difference? Furthermore, it does us good to see a fool +who is more stupid than we, who has not the same gifts; why, then, one +feels greater oneself and is grateful to heaven; even on that account +I like to have a blockhead around. + + [THE COOK _serves the rabbit and goes_.] + +KING. + +The rabbit! I do not know--I suppose the other gentlemen do not +care for it? + +ALL (_bow_). + +KING. + +Well, then, with your permission, I will keep it for myself. +(_He eats._) + +PRINCESS. + +It seems to me the king is making faces as though he were +getting an attack again. + +KING (_rising in rage_). + +The rabbit is burned! Oh, earth! Oh, pain! +What keeps me from sending the cook right down to Orcus as fast as +possible? + +PRINCESS. + +My father! + +KING. + +How did this stranger lose his way among the people? His eyes +are dry-- + +ALL (_arise very sadly_, JACKPUDDING _runs back and forth busily_, +HINZE _remains seated and eats steadily_). + +KING. + +A long, long, good night; no morning will ever brighten it. + +PRINCESS. + +Do have some one fetch the peacemaker. + +KING. + +May the Cook Philip be Hell's cry of jubilee when an ungrateful +wretch is burned to ashes! + +PRINCESS. + +Where can the musician be! + +KING. + +To be or not to be-- + +[_The peacemaker enters with a set of musical bells and begins to play +them at once._] + +KING. + +What is the matter with me? (_Weeping._) Alas! I have already +had my attack again. Have the rabbit taken out of my sight. (_He lays +his head on the table, full of grief, and sobs._) + +COURTIER. + +His majesty suffers much. + +[_Violent stamping and whistling in the pit; they cough, they hiss; +those in the gallery laugh; the king gets up, arranges his cloak and +sits down majestically with his sceptre. It is all in vain; the noise +continues to increase, all the actors forget their parts, a terrible +pause on the stage. HINZE has climbed up a pillar. The author appears +on the stage, overcome._] + +AUTHOR. + +Gentlemen--most honorable public--just a few words! + +IN THE PIT. + +Quiet! Quiet! The fool wishes to speak! + +AUTHOR. + +For the sake of heaven, do not disgrace me thus; why, the act +will be over directly. Just look, the king, too, is again calmed; take +an example from this great soul which certainly has more reason to be +vexed than you. + +FISCHER. + +More than we? + +WIESENER (_to his neighbor_). + +But I wonder why you are stamping? We +two like the play, do we not? + +NEIGHBOR. + +That's true too--absent-mindedly, because they're all doing +it. (_Claps with might and main._) + +AUTHOR. + +A few voices are still favorable to me, however. For pity, do +put up with my poor play; a rogue gives more than he has, and it will +be over soon, too. I am so confused and frightened that I can think +of nothing else to say to you. + +ALL. + +We want to hear nothing, know nothing. + +AUTHOR (_raging, drags the peacemaker forward_). + +The king is calmed, +now calm this raging flood too, if you can. (_Beside himself, rushes +off._) + +[_The peacemaker plays on his bells, the stamping keeps time with the +melody; he motions; monkeys and bears appear and dance fondly around +him. Eagles and other birds. An eagle sits on the head of HINZE who is +very much afraid; two elephants, two lions. Ballet and singing._] + +THE FOUR-FOOTED ANIMALS. + +That sounds so beautiful! + +THE BIRDS. + +That sounds so lovely! + +CHORUS TOGETHER. + +Never have I seen or heard the like! + +[_Hereupon an artistic quadrille is danced by all present, the king +and his court retinue are taken into the centre, HINZE and JACKPUDDING +not excluded; general applause. Laughter; people standing up in pit to +see better; several hats fall down from the gallery._] + +THE PEACEMAKER (_sings during the ballet and the audience's general +expression of pleasure_). + + + Could only all good men + Soft bells like these discover + Each enemy would then + With ease be turned to lover. + And life without bad friends would be + All sweet and lovely harmony. + + +[_The curtain falls, all shout and applaud, the ballet is heard +awhile._] + + +INTERLUDE + +WIESENER. + +Splendid! Splendid! + +NEIGHBOR. + +Well, I'd certainly call that a heroic ballet. + +WIESENER. + +And so beautifully woven into the main plot! + +LEUTNER. + +Beautiful music! + +FISCHER. + +Divine! + +SCHLOSS. + +The ballet is the only redeeming feature of the play. + +BÖTTICH. + +I still keep on admiring the acting of the cat. In such +details one recognizes the great and experienced actor; for example, +as often as he took the rabbit out of the sack, he always lifted it by +the ears; that was not prescribed for him; I wonder whether you +noticed how the king grasped it at once by the body? But these animals +are held by the ears because that is where they can best bear it. +That's what I call a master! + +MÜLLER. + +That is a very fine explanation. + +FISCHER (_aside_). + +He himself ought to be lifted by the ears for it. + +BÖTTICH. + +And his terror when the eagle was sitting on his head! How he +did not even move for fear, did not stir or budge--it is beyond +description! + +MÜLLER. + +You go very deeply into the matter. + +BÖTTICH. + +I flatter myself I am a bit of a connoisseur; that is of +course not the case with all of you, and for that reason the matter +must be demonstrated to you. + +FISCHER. + +You are taking great pains! + +BÖTTICH. + +Oh, when you love art as I do it is a pleasant task! Just now +a very acute thought also occurred to me concerning the cat's boots, +and in them I admire the genius of the actor. You see, at first be is +a cat; for that reason he must lay aside his natural clothing in order +to assume the appropriate disguise of a cat. Then he has to appear +fully as a hunter; that is what I conclude, for every one calls him +that, nor does a soul marvel at him; an unskilful actor would have +dressed himself exactly so too, but what would have happened to our +illusion? We might perhaps have forgotten that he was still originally +a cat and how uncomfortable a new costume would be for the actor over +the fur he already had. By means of the boots, however, he merely +skilfully suggests the hunter's costume; and that such suggestions are +extremely dramatic, the ancients prove to us very excellently, in +often-- + +FISCHER. + +Hush! The third act is beginning. + + + +ACT III + + +_Room in a peasant's house_ + +_The_ PLAYWRIGHT. _The_ MACHINIST. + + +MACHIN. + +Then do you really think that will do any good? + +PLAYWR. + +I beg, I entreat you, do not refuse my request; my only hope +depends on it. + +LEUTNER. + +Why, what's this again? How did these people ever get into +Gottlieb's room? + +SCHLOSS. + +I won't rack my brains about anything more. + +MACHIN. + +But, dear friend, you certainly do ask too much, to have all +this done in such a hurry, entirely on the spur of the moment. + +PLAYWR. + +I believe you are against me, too; you also rejoice in my +misfortune. + +MACHIN. + +Not in the least. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_falls down before him_). + +Then prove it to me by yielding +to my request; if the disapproval of the audience breaks out so loudly +again, then at a motion from me let all the machines play; as it is, +the second act has already closed quite differently from the way it +reads in my manuscript. + +MACHIN. + +What's this now? Why, who raised the curtain? + +PLAYWR. + +It never rains but it pours! I am lost! (_He rushes in +embarrassment behind the scenes._) + +MACHIN. + +There never has been such a confusion on any evening. + + [_Exit. A pause._] + +WIESENER. + +I say, does that belong to the play? + +NEIGHBOR. + +Of course--why that motivates the transformation to follow. + +FISCHER. + +This evening ought certainly to be described in the theatre +almanac. + +KING (_behind the scenes_). + +No, I will not appear, on no condition; I +cannot bear to have any one laugh at me. + +PLAYWR. + +But you--dearest friend--it can't be changed now. + +JACKPUD. + +Well, I will try my luck. (_He steps forward and bows +comically to the audience._) + +MÜLLER. + +Why, what is Jackpudding doing in the peasant's room now? + +SCHLOSS. + +I suppose he wants to deliver a ridiculous monologue. + +JACKPUD. + +Pardon me if I make bold to say a few words which do not +exactly belong to the play. + +FISCHER. + +Oh, you should keep perfectly quiet, we're tired of you even +in the play; moreover, now so very-- + +SCHLOSS. + +A Jackpudding dares to talk to us? + +JACKPUD. + +Why not? For if people laugh at me, I am not hurt at all; +why, it would be my warmest wish to have you laugh at me. So do not +hesitate. + +LEUTNER. + +That is pretty funny! + +JACKPUD. + +Naturally, what scarcely befits the king is all the more +fitting for me; hence he would not appear, but left this important +announcement to me. + +MÜLLER. + +But we do not wish to hear anything. + +JACKPUD. + +My dear German countrymen-- + +SCHLOSS. + +I believe the setting of the play is in Asia. + +JACKPUD. + +But now, you see, I am talking to you merely as an actor to +the spectators. + +SCHLOSS. + +People, it's all over with me now; I am crazy. + +JACKPUD. + +Do be pleased to hear that the former scene, which you just +saw, is not part of the play at all. + +FISCHER. + +Not part of the play? Then how does it get in there? + +JACKPUD. + +The curtain was raised too soon. It was a private discussion +which would not have taken place on the stage at all if it were not so +horribly crowded behind the scenes. Now if you were deceived, it is of +course so much the worse; then just be kind enough to eradicate this +delusion again; for from now on, do you understand me, only after I +have gone away, will the act really begin. Between you and me, all the +preceding has nothing to do with it at all. But you are to be +compensated; much is coming soon which is very essential to the plot. +I have spoken to the playwright myself and he has assured me of it. + +FISCHER. + +Yes, your playwright is just the fellow. + +JACKPUD. + +He's good for nothing, isn't it so? Well, I am glad after +all, that there is still some one else who has the same taste as I-- + +THE PIT. + +All of us, all of us! + +JACKPUD. + +Your obedient servant; it is too great an honor by far. Yes, +God knows, he is a wretched writer--only to give a bad example; what a +miserable part he has given me! Where, pray, am I witty and funny? I +appear in so few scenes, and I believe, if I hadn't stepped forward +even now, by a lucky chance, I should not have appeared again at all. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_rushing forward_). + +Impudent fellow-- + +JACKPUD. + +Look, he is even jealous of the small part I am playing now. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_on the other side of the stage with a bow_). + +Worthy +friends! I never should have dared to give this man a more important +part since I know your taste-- + +JACKPUDDING (_on the other side_). + +_Your_ taste? Now you see his +jealousy--and they have all just declared that my taste is the same as +theirs. + +PLAYWR. + +I wished, by means of the present play, only to prepare you +for even more extravagant products of the imagination. + +ALL IN THE PIT. + +How? What? + +JACKPUD. + +Of course for plays in which I would have no part to act at +all. + +PLAYWR. + +For the development of this matter must advance step by step. + +JACKPUD. + +Don't believe a word he says! + +PLAYWR. + +Now I withdraw, not to interrupt the course of the play any +longer. + + [_Exit._] + +JACKPUD. + +Adieu, until we meet again. (_Exit, returns again quickly._) +_Apropos_--another thing--the discussion which has just taken place +among us is not part of the play either. + + [_Exit._] + +THE PIT (_laughs_). + +JACKPUDDING (_returns again quickly_). + +Let us finish the wretched play +today; make believe you do not notice at all how bad it is; as soon as +I get home I'll sit down and write one for you that you will certainly +like. + + [_Exit, some applause._] + +(_Enter_ GOTTLIEB _and_ HINZE) + +GOTTLIEB. + +Dear Hinze, it is true you are doing much for me, but I +still cannot understand what good it is going to do me. + +HINZE. + +Upon my word, I want to make you happy. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Happiness must come soon, very soon, otherwise it will be +too late; it is already half past seven and the comedy ends at eight. + +HINZE. + +Say, what the devil does that mean? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Oh, I was lost in thought--See! I meant to say, how +beautifully the sun has risen. The accursed prompter speaks so +indistinctly; and then if you want to extemporize once in a while, it +always goes wrong. + +HINZE (_quietly_). + +Do bethink yourself, otherwise the whole play will +break in a thousand pieces. + +SCHLOSS. + +I wish somebody would tell me why I can no longer understand +anything. + +FISCHER. + +My intelligence is at a standstill too. + +GOTTLIEB. + +So my fortune is yet to be determined today? + +HINZE. + +Yes, dear Gottlieb, even before the sun sets. See, I love you +so much that I would run through fire for you--and you doubt my +sincerity? + +WIESENER. + +Did you hear that? He is going to run through fire. Ah, +fine, here we get the scene from the _Magic Flute_ too, with the fire +and the water! + +NEIGHBOR. + +But cats do not go into the water. + +WIESENER. + +Why so much the greater is the cat's love for his master, +you see; that's just what the author wants to make us understand. + +HINZE. + +Now what would you like to become in the world, anyhow? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Oh, I don't know, myself. + +HINZE. + +Perhaps you'd like to become a prince, or a king? + +GOTTLIEB. + +That, better than anything. + +HINZE. + +And do you also feel the strength within you to make a nation +happy? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Why not? If only I am once happy myself. + +HINZE. + +Well, then content yourself. I swear to you, you shall mount +the throne. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB. + +It would have to come about mysteriously--still, of course, +so many unexpected things happen in the world. + + [_Exit._] + +BÖTTICH. + +Do notice the infinite refinement with which the cat always +holds his cane. + +FISCHER. + +You've been a bore to us for the longest while; you are even +more tiresome than the play. + +SCHLOSS. + +You even add to the confusion in our heads. + +MÜLLER. + +You talk constantly and do not know what you want. + +MANY VOICES. + +Out! Out! He's a nuisance! (_A crowd;_ BÖTTICHER _finds +himself compelled to leave the theatre._) + +FISCHER. + +He with his talk about refinement! + +SCHLOSS. + +He always vexes me when he considers himself a connoisseur. + +_An open field_ + +HINZE (_with knapsack and bag_). + +I have become quite accustomed to +hunting. Every day I catch partridges, rabbits and the like, and the +dear little animals are getting more and more practice in being +caught. (_He spreads out his bag._) Now the season of the nightingales +is over, I do not hear a single one singing. + + [_Enter the two lovers._] + +HE. + +Go, you bore me. + +SHE. + +I am disgusted with you. + +HE. + +A fine kind of love! + +SHE. + +Wretched hypocrite, how you have deceived me! + +HE. + +What has become of your infinite tenderness? + +SHE. + +And your faithfulness? + +HE. + +Your rapture? + +SHE. + +Your infatuation? + +BOTH. + +The devil has taken it! That comes of marrying. + +HINZE. + +The hunt has never yet been so disturbed--if you would be +pleased to notice that this open field is clearly too confined for +your sorrows, and climb up some mountain. + +HE. + +Insolent wretch! (_Boxes_ HINZE _on the ear._) + +SHE. + +Boor! (_Also boxes_ HINZE _on the ear._) + +HINZE (_purrs_). + +SHE. + +It seems best to me that we be parted again. + +HE. + +I am at your bidding. + + [_Exit the lovers._] + +HINZE. + +Nice people, these so-called human beings. Just look, two +partridges; I will carry them off quickly. Now, fortune, make haste, +for I myself am almost getting impatient. Now I have no longer any +desire to eat the partridges. It's probably thus, that, by mere habit, +we can implant in our nature every possible virtue. + + [_Exit._] + +_Hall in the Palace_ + +_The_ KING _on his throne with the_ PRINCESS; LEANDER _in a lecturer's +chair; opposite him_ JACKPUDDING _in another lecturer's chair; in the +centre of the hall a costly hat, decorated with gold and precious +stones, is fastened on a high pole. The entire court is present._ + +KING. + +Never yet has a person rendered such services to his country as +this amiable Count of Carabas. Our historian has already almost filled +a thick volume, so often has the Count presented me with pretty and +delicious gifts, sometimes even twice a day, through his hunter. My +appreciation of his kindness is boundless and I desire nothing more +earnestly than to find at some time the opportunity of discharging to +some extent the great debt I owe him. + +PRINCESS. + +Dearest father, would your majesty not most graciously +permit the learned disputation to begin? My heart yearns for this +mental activity. + +KING. + +Yes, it may begin now. Court scholar--court fool--you both know +that to the one who gains the victory in this disputation is allotted +that costly hat; for this very reason have I had it set up here, so +that you may have it always before your eyes and never be in want of +quick wit. + + [LEANDER _and_ JACKPUDDING _bow_.] + +LEANDER. + +The theme of my assertion is, that a recently published play +by the name of _Puss in Boots_ is a good play. + +JACKPUD. + +That is just what I deny. + +LEANDER. + +Prove that it is bad. + +JACKPUD. + +Prove that it is good. + +LEUTNER. + +What's this again? Why that's the very play they are giving +here, if I am not mistaken. + +MÜLLER. + +No other. + +SCHLOSS. + +Do tell me whether I am awake and have my eyes open. + +LEANDER. + +The play, if not perfectly excellent, is still to be praised +in several respects. + +JACKPUD. + +Not one respect. + +LEANDER. + +I assert that it displays wit. + +JACKPUD. + +I assert that it displays none. + +LEANDER. + +You are a fool; how can you pretend to judge concerning wit? + +JACKPUD. + +And you are a scholar; what can you pretend to understand +about wit? + +LEANDER. + +Several characters are well-sustained. + +JACKPUD. + +Not a single one. + +LEANDER. + +Then, even if I concede else, the audience is well drawn in +it. + +JACKPUD. + +An audience never has a character. + +LEANDER. + +I am almost amazed at this boldness. + +JACKPUD (_to the pit_). + +Isn't he a foolish fellow? Here we are, hand +and glove with each other and sympathize in our views on taste, and he +wishes to assert in opposition to my opinion, that at least the +audience in _Puss in Boots_ is well drawn. + +FISCHER. + +The audience? Why no audience appears in the play. + +JACKPUD. + +That's even better! So, then, no audience is presented in it +at all? + +MÜLLER. + +Why not a bit of it, unless he means the several kinds of +fools that appear. + +JACKPUD. + +Now, do you see, scholar! What these gentlemen down there are +saying must certainly be true. + +LEANDER. + +I am getting confused, but still I won't yield the victory to +you. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +JACKPUD. + +Sir Hunter, a word! (HINZE _approaches, they whisper._) + +HINZE. +If it's nothing more than that. (_He takes off his boots, +climbs up the pole, then takes the hat, jumps down, then puts his +boots on again._) + +JACKPUD. + +Victory! Victory! + +KING. + +The deuce! How clever the hunter is! + +LEANDER. + +I only regret that I have been vanquished by a fool, that +learning must acknowledge foolishness as its superior. + +KING. + +Keep still; you wanted the hat, he wanted the hat; so again I +see no difference. But what have you brought, hunter? + +HINZE. + +The Count of Carabas commends himself most respectfully to your +majesty and sends you these two partridges. + +KING. + +Too much! too much! I am sinking under the burden of gratitude! +Long since should I have done my duty and visited him; today I will +delay no longer. Have my royal carriage prepared at once--eight horses +in front--I want to go driving with my daughter. You, Hunter, are to +show us the way to the castle of the count. + + [_Exit with retinue._] + +HINZE. JACKPUDDING + +HINZE. + +What was your disputation about, anyhow? + +JACKPUD. + +I asserted that a certain play, which, moreover, I am not +acquainted with at all, _Puss in Boots_, is a wretched play. + +HINZE. + +So? + +JACKPUD. + +Adieu, Sir Hunter. + + [_Exit._] + +HINZE (_alone_). + +I'm all in the dumps. I, myself, helped the fool win +a victory against a play in which I myself am taking the leading part. +Fate! Fate! Into what complications do you so often lead us mortals? +But be that as it may. If I only succeed in putting my beloved +Gottlieb on the throne, I will gladly forget all my other troubles. +The king wishes to visit the count? Now that is another bad situation +which I must clear up; now the great, important day has arrived on +which I need you so particularly, you boots. Now do not desert me; all +must be determined today. + + [_Exit._] + +FISCHER. + +Do tell me what this is--the play itself--it appears again as +a play in the play. + +SCHLOSS. + +Without much ceremony, I am crazy--didn't I say at once, that +is the enjoyment of art which you are said to have here? + +LEUTNER. + +No tragedy has ever affected me as this farce has. + +_In front of the tavern_ + +THE HOST (_reaping corn with a scythe_). + +This is hard work! Well, of +course people cannot be deserting every day either. I only wish the +harvest were over. After all, life consists of nothing but work; now +draw beer, then clean glasses, then pour it out--now even reap. Life +means work--and here some learned folk are even so wicked, in their +books, as to try to put sleep out of fashion, because one does not +live enough for one's time. But I am a great friend of sleep. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +Whoever wants to hear something wonderful, listen to me now! How I +have been running!--first from the royal palace to Gottlieb, second +with Gottlieb to the palace of the Bugbear where I left him, third +from there back again to the king, fourth I am now racing ahead of the +king's coach like a courier and showing him the way. Hey! good friend! + +HOST. + +Who's that? Countryman, you must probably be a stranger, for the +people in this neighborhood know that I do not sell any beer about +this time; I need it for myself; when one does work like mine, one +must also fortify one's self. I am sorry, but I cannot help you. + +HINZE. + +I do not want any beer, I never drink beer; I only want to say +a few words to you. + +HOST. + +You must certainly be a regular idler, to attempt to disturb +industrious people in their occupation. + +HINZE. + +I do not wish to disturb you. Just listen: the neighboring king +will drive by here, he will probably step out of his carriage and +inquire to whom these villages belong. If your life is dear to you, if +you do not wish to be hanged or burned, then be sure to answer: to the +Count of Carabas. + +HOST. + +But, Sir, we are subject to the law. + +HINZE. + +I know that well enough, but, as I said, if you do not wish to +die, this region here belongs to the Count of Carabas. + + [_Exit._] + +HOST. + +Many thanks! Now this would be the finest kind of opportunity +for me to get out of ever having to work again. All I need do is to +say to the king--the country belongs to the Bugbear. But no, idleness +breeds vice: _Ora et labora_ is my motto. + +[_A fine carriage with eight horses, many servants behind; it stops; +the_ KING _and_ PRINCESS _step out._] + +PRINCESS. + +I am somewhat curious to see the Count. + +KING. + +So am I, my daughter. Good day, my friend. To whom do these +villages here belong? + +HOST (_aside_). + +He asks as though he were ready to have me hanged at +once.--To the Count of Carabas, your majesty. + +KING. + +A beautiful country. But I always thought the country must look +altogether different if I should cross the border, judging from the +maps. Do help me a bit. (_He climbs up a tree quickly._) + +PRINCESS. + +What are you doing, my royal father? + +KING. + +I like open views on beautiful landscapes. + +PRINCESS. + +Can you see far? + +KING. + +Oh, yes, and if it were not for those annoying mountains, you +would see even further. Oh, my, the tree is full of caterpillars! (_He +climbs down again._) + +PRINCESS. + +That is because it is a scene in nature which has not yet +been idealized; imagination must first ennoble it. + +KING. + +I wish you could take the caterpillars off me by means of +imagination. But get in, we must drive ahead. + +PRINCESS. + +Farewell, good, innocent peasant. (_They get into the +carriage; it drives on._) + +HOST. + +How the world has changed! If you read in old books or listen to +old people's stories, they always got louis d'ors or something like +that if they spoke to a king or a prince. Such a king would formerly +never dare to open his mouth if he did not press gold pieces into your +hand at once. But now! How, pray, is one to make one's fortune +unexpectedly, if the chance is over even with kings? Innocent peasant! +I wish to God I didn't owe anything--that comes of the new sentimental +descriptions of country life. Such a king is powerful and envies +people of our station. I must only thank God that he did not hang me. +The strange hunter was our Bugbear himself after all. At least it will +now appear in the paper, I suppose, that the king has spoken to me +graciously. [_Exit._] + +_Another region_ + +KUNZ (_reaping corn_). + +Bitter work! And if at least I were doing it +for myself--but this compulsory villainage! Here one must do nothing +but sweat for the Bugbear and he does not even thank one. Of course +they always say in this world that laws are necessary to keep the +people in order, but what need there is here of _our Law_ who devours +all of us, I cannot understand. + + [HINZE _comes running_.] + +HINZE. + +Now I have blisters-on my soles already--well, it doesn't +matter, Gottlieb, Gottlieb must get the throne for it. Hey, good +friend! + +KUNZ. + +Who's _this_ fellow? + +HINZE. + +The king will drive by here directly. If he asks you to whom +all this belongs, you must answer--to the Count of Carabas; otherwise +you will be chopped into a thousand million pieces. For the welfare of +the public, the law desires it thus. + +FISCHER. + +For the welfare of the public? + +SCHLOSS. + +Naturally, for otherwise the play would never end. + +HINZE. + +Your life is probably dear to you. + + [_Exit._] + +KUNZ. + +That's just how the edicts always sound. Well, I don't mind +saying that, if only no new taxes result from it. One must trust no +innovation. + +[_The coach drives up and stops; the_ KING _and the_ PRINCESS _step +out._] + +KING. + +A fine landscape, too. We have already seen a great deal of +very fine country. To whom does this land belong? + +KUNZ. + +To the Count of Carabas. + +KING. + +He has splendid estates, that must be true--and so near mine; +daughter, that seems to be a good match for you. What is your opinion? + +PRINCESS. + +You embarrass me, my father. What new things one sees while +traveling, though. Do tell me, pray, good peasant, why do you cut down +the straw like that? + +KUNZ (_laughing_). + +Why, this is the harvest, Mam'selle Queen--the +corn. + +KING. + +Corn? What do you use that for, pray? + +KUNZ (_laughing_). + +Bread is baked from that. + +KING. + +Pray, daughter, for heaven's sake, bread is baked of it! Who would +ever think of such tricks! Nature is something marvelous, after all. +Here, good friend, get a drink, it is warm today. (_He steps in again +with the_ PRINCESS; _the carriage drives away._) + +KUNZ. + +If he wasn't a king, you'd almost think he was stupid. Doesn't know +what corn is! Well, you learn new things every day, of course. Here he +has given me a shining piece of gold and I'll fetch myself a can of +good beer at once. [_Exit._] + +_Another part of the country, beside a river_ + +GOTTLIEB. + +Now here I've been standing two hours already, waiting for my friend, +Hinze. And he's not coming yet. There he is! But how he's running--he +seems all out of breath. + + [HINZE _comes running._] + +HINZE. + +Well, friend Gottlieb, take off your clothes quickly? + +GOTTLIEB. + +My clothes? + +HINZE. + +And then jump into the water here-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Into the water? + +HINZE. + +And then I will throw the clothing into the bush-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Into the bush? + +HINZE. + +And then you are provided for! + +GOTTLIEB. + +I agree with you; if I am drowned and my clothes gone, I am well +enough provided for. + +HINZE. + +There is no time for joking-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +I am not joking at all. Is that what I had to wait here for? + +HINZE. + +Undress! + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, I'll do anything to please you. + +HINZE. + +Come, you are only to take a little bath. (_Exit with_ GOTTLIEB. _Then +he comes back with the clothing which he throws into a bush._) Help! +Help! Help! + +[_The carriage. The_ KING _looks out of the coach door._] + +KING. + +What is it, Hunter? Why do you shout so? + +HINZE. + +Help, your majesty, the Count of Carabas is drowned! + +KING. + +Drowned! + +PRINCESS (_in the carriage_). + +Carabas! + +KING. + +My daughter in a faint! The Count drowned! + +HINZE. + +Perhaps he can still be saved; he is lying there in the water. + +KING. + +Servants! Try everything, anything to preserve the noble man. + +SERVANT. + +We have rescued him, your majesty. + +HINZE. + +Misfortune upon misfortune, my king! The Count was bathing here in the +clear water and a rogue stole his clothing. + +KING. + +Unstrap my trunk at once--give him some of my clothes. Cheer up, +daughter, the Count is rescued. + +HINZE. + +I must hurry. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB (_in the king's clothing_). + +Your majesty-- + +KING. + +Here is the Count! I recognize him by my clothing! Step in, my best +friend--how are you? Where do you get all the rabbits? I cannot +compose myself for joy! Drive on, coachman! + + [_The carriage drives off quickly._] + +SERVANT. + +None but the hangman could come up so quickly--now I have the pleasure +of running behind on foot, and besides I'm just as wet as a cat. + +LEUTNER. + +How many more times, pray, will the carriage appear? + +WIESENER. + +Neighbor! Why, you are asleep! + +NEIGHBOR. + +Not at all--a fine play. + +_Palace of the Bugbear_ + +_The_ BUGBEAR _appears as a rhinoceros; a poor peasant stands before +him._ + +PEASANT. + +May it please your honor-- + +BUGBEAR. + +There must be justice, my friend. + +PEASANT. + +I cannot pay just now. + +BUGBEAR. + +Be still, you have lost the case; the law demands money and your +punishment; consequently your land must be sold. There is nothing else +to be done and this is for the sake of justice. + + [_Exit peasant._] + +BUGBEAR (_who is re-transformed into an ordinary bugbear_). + +These people would lose all respect if they were not compelled to fear +in this way. + + [_An officer enters, bowing profusely._] + +OFFICER. + +May it please you, honored sir--I-- + +BUGBEAR. + +What's your trouble, my friend? + +OFFICER. + +With your kindest permission, I tremble and quiver in your +honor's formidable presence. + +BUGBEAR. + +Oh, this is far from my most terrible form. + +OFFICER. + +I really came--in matters--to beg you to take my part against +my neighbor. I had also brought this purse with me--but the presence +of Lord Law is too frightful for me. + +BUGBEAR (_suddenly changes into a mouse and sits in a corner_). + +OFFICER. + +Why, where has the Bugbear gone? + +BUGBEAR (_in a delicate voice_). + +Just put the money down there on the +table; I will sit here to avoid frightening you. + +OFFICER. + +Here. (_He lays the money down_.) Oh, this justice is a +splendid thing--how can one be afraid of such a mouse! + + [_Exit_.] + +BUGBEAR (_assumes his natural form_). + +A pretty good purse--of course +one must sympathize with human weakness. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +With your permission--(_aside_) Hinze, you must pluck up +courage--(_aloud_) Your Excellency! + +BUGBEAR. + +What do you wish? + +HINZE. + +I am a scholar traveling through this region and wished to take the +liberty of making your excellency's acquaintance. + +BUGBEAR. + +Very well, then, make my acquaintance. + +HINZE. + +You are a mighty prince; your love of justice is known all over the +world. + +BUGBEAR. + +Yes, I don't doubt it. Do sit down! + +HINZE. + +They tell many wonderful things about Your Highness-- + +BUGBEAR. + +Yes, people always want something to talk about and so the reigning +monarchs must be the first to be discussed. + +HINZE. + +But still, there is one thing I cannot believe, that Your Excellency +can transform yourself into an elephant and a tiger. + +BUGBEAR. + +I will give you an example of it at once. (_He changes into a lion_.) + +HINZE (_draws out a portfolio, trembling_). + +Permit me to make note of this marvel--but now would you also please +resume your natural charming form? Otherwise I shall die of fear. + +BUGBEAR (_in his own form_). + +Those are tricks, friend! Don't you +think so? + +HINZE. + +Marvelous! But another thing--they also say you can transform yourself +into very small animals--with your permission, that is even far more +incomprehensible to me; for, do tell me, what becomes of your large +body then? + +BUGBEAR. + +I will do that too. + +[_He changes into a mouse_. HINZE _leaps after him, the Bugbear flees +into another room_, HINZE _after him_.] + +HINZE (_coming back_). + +Freedom and Equality! The Law is devoured! Now indeed the +Tiers--_Etat_! Gottlieb will surely secure the government. + +SCHLOSS. + +Why, a revolutionary play after all? Then for heaven's sake, you +surely shouldn't stamp! + +[_The stamping continues_, WIESENER _and several others applaud_, +HINZE _creeps into a corner and finally even leaves the stage. The +playwright is heard quarreling behind the scenes and then enters_.] + +PLAYWR. + +What am I to do? The play will be over directly--everything would +perhaps have run smoothly--now just in this moral scene I had expected +so much applause. If this were only not so far away from the king's +palace, I would fetch the peacemaker; he explained to me at the end of +the second act all the fables of Orpheus--but am I not a fool? I +became quite confused--why, this is the theatre here, and the +peacemaker must be somewhere behind the scenes--I will look for him--I +must find him--he shall save me! (_Exit, returns again quickly_.) He +is not _there_, Sir Peacemaker! An empty echo mocks me--he has +deserted me, his playwright. Ha! there I see him--he must come +forward. + +[_The pauses are always filled by stamping in the pit and the +playwright delivers this monologue in recitative, so that the effect +is rather melodramatic_.] + +PEACEMAKER (_behind the scenes_). + +No, I will not appear. + +PLAYWR. + +But why not, pray? + +PEACEMAK. + +Why, I have already undressed. + +PLAYWR. + +That doesn't matter. (_He pushes him forward by force_.) + +PEACEMAKER (_appearing in his ordinary dress, with, the set of +bells_). + +Well, you may take the responsibility. (_He plays on the bells and +sings_.) + + These sacred halls of beauty + Revenge have never known. + For love guides back to duty + The man who vice has sown. + Then he is led by friendly hand, + Glad and content, to a better land. + +[_The pit begins to applaud; meanwhile the scene is changed, the fire +and water taken from the_ MAGIC FLUTE _begin to play, above appears +the open temple of the sun, the sky is clear and Jupiter sits within +it, beneath Hell with Terkaleon, cobalds and witches on the stage, +many lights, etc. The audience applauds excessively, everything is +astir_.] + +WIESENER. + +Now the cat has only to go through fire and water and then the play is +finished. + +[_Enter the_ KING, _the_ PRINCESS, GOTTLIEB, HINZE _and servants_.] + +HINZE. + +This is the palace of the Count of Carabas. Why, the dickens, how this +has changed! + +KING. + +A beautiful palace! + +HINZE. + +As long as matters _have_ gone thus far (_taking Gottlieb by +the hand_) you must first walk through the fire here and then through +the water there. + +GOTTLIEB (_walks through fire and water to the sound of flute and +drum_.) + +HINZE. + +You have stood the test; now, my prince, you are altogether worthy of +the government. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Governing, Hinze, is a curious matter. + +KING. + +Accept, now, the hand of my daughter. + +PRINCESS. + +How happy I am! + +GOTTLIEB. + +I, likewise. But, my king, I would desire to reward my servant. + +KING. + +By all means; I herewith raise him to the nobility. (_He hangs an +order about the cat's neck_.) What is his actual name? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Hinze. By birth he is of but a lowly family--but his merits exalt him. + +LEANDER (_quickly stepping forward_). + + After the King I rode with due submission, + And now implore his Majesty's permission + To close with laudatory lines poetic + This play so very wondrous and prophetic. + In praise of cats my grateful anthem soars-- + The noblest of those creatures on all fours + Who daily bring contentment to our doors. + In Egypt cats were gods, and very nice is + The Tom-cat who was cousin to Great Isis. + They still protect our cellar, attic, kitchen, + And serve the man who this world's goods is rich in. + Our homes had household gods of yore to grace them. + If cats be gods, then with the Lares place them! + + [_Drumming. The curtain falls_.] + + + + + +FAIR ECKBERT (1796) + +BY LUDWIG TIECK + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL B. THOMAS + + +In a region of the Hartz Mountains there lived a knight whom people +generally called simply Fair Eckbert. He was about forty years old, +scarcely of medium height, and short, very fair hair fell thick and +straight over his pale, sunken face. He lived very quietly unto +himself, and was never implicated in the feuds of his neighbors; +people saw him but rarely outside the encircling wall of his little +castle. His wife loved solitude quite as much as he, and both seemed +to love each other from the heart; only they were wont to complain +because Heaven seemed unwilling to bless their marriage with children. + +Very seldom was Eckbert visited by guests, and even when he was, +almost no change on their account was made in the ordinary routine of +his life. Frugality dwelt there, and Economy herself seemed to +regulate everything. Eckbert was then cheerful and gay--only when he +was alone one noticed in him a certain reserve, a quiet distant +melancholy. + +Nobody came so often to the castle as did Philip Walther, a man to +whom Eckbert had become greatly attached, because he found in him very +much his own way of thinking. His home was really in Franconia, but he +often spent more than half a year at a time in the vicinity of +Eckbert's castle, where he busied himself gathering herbs and stones +and arranging them in order. He had a small income, and was therefore +dependent upon no one. Eckbert often accompanied him on his lonely +rambles, and thus a closer friendship developed between the two men +with each succeeding year. + +There are hours in which it worries a man to keep from a friend a +secret, which hitherto he has often taken great pains to conceal. The +soul then feels an irresistible impulse to impart itself completely, +and reveal its innermost self to the friend, in order to make him so +much the more a friend. At these moments delicate souls disclose +themselves to each other, and it doubtless sometimes happens that the +one shrinks back in fright from its acquaintance with the other. + +One foggy evening in early autumn Eckbert was sitting with his friend +and his wife, Bertha, around the hearth-fire. The flames threw a +bright glow out into the room and played on the ceiling above. The +night looked in darkly through the windows, and the trees outside were +shivering in the damp cold. Walther was lamenting that he had so far +to go to get back home, and Eckbert proposed that he remain there and +spend half the night in familiar talk, and then sleep until morning in +one of the rooms of the castle. Walther accepted the proposal, +whereupon wine and supper were brought in, the fire was replenished +with wood, and the conversation of the two friends became more cheery +and confidential. + +After the dishes had been cleared off, and the servants had gone out, +Eckbert took Walther's hand and said: + +"Friend, you ought once to let my wife tell you the story of her +youth, which is indeed strange enough." + +"Gladly," replied Walther, and they all sat down again around the +hearth. It was now exactly midnight, and the moon shone intermittently +through the passing clouds. + +"You must forgive me," began Bertha, "but my husband says your +thoughts are so noble that it is not right to conceal anything from +you. Only you must not regard my story as a fairy-tale, no matter how +strange it may sound. + +"I was born in a village, my father was a poor shepherd. The household +economy of my parents was on a humble plane--often they did not know +where they were going to get their bread. But what grieved me far more +than that was the fact that my father and mother often quarreled over +their poverty, and cast bitter reproaches at each other. Furthermore I +was constantly hearing about myself, that I was a simple, stupid +child, who could not perform even the most trifling task. And I was +indeed extremely awkward and clumsy; I let everything drop from my +hands, I learned neither to sew nor to spin, I could do nothing to +help about the house. The misery of my parents, however, I understood +extremely well. I often used to sit in the corner and fill my head +with notions--how I would help them if I should suddenly become rich, +how I would shower them with gold and silver and take delight in their +astonishment. Then I would see spirits come floating up, who would +reveal subterranean treasures to me or give me pebbles which afterward +turned into gems. In short, the most wonderful fantasies would occupy +my mind, and when I had to get up to help or carry something, I would +show myself far more awkward than ever, for the reason that my head +would be giddy with all these strange notions. + +"My father was always very cross with me, because I was such an +absolutely useless burden on the household; so he often treated me +with great cruelty, and I seldom heard him say a kind word to me. Thus +it went along until I was about eight years old, when serious steps +were taken to get me to do and to learn something. My father believed +that it was sheer obstinacy and indolence on my part, so that I might +spend my days in idleness. Enough--he threatened me unspeakably, and +when this turned out to be of no avail, he chastised me most +barbarously, adding that this punishment was to be repeated every day +because I was an absolutely useless creature. + +"All night long I cried bitterly--I felt so entirely forsaken, and I +pitied myself so that I wanted to die. I dreaded the break of day, and +did not know what to do. I longed for any possible kind of ability, +and could not understand at all why I was more stupid than the other +children of my acquaintance. I was on the verge of despair. + +"When the day dawned, I got up, and, scarcely realizing what I was +doing, opened the door of our little cabin. I found myself in the open +field, soon afterward in a forest, into which the daylight had hardly +yet shone. I ran on without looking back; I did not get tired, for I +thought all the time that my father would surely overtake me and treat +me even more cruelly on account of my running away. + +"When I emerged from the forest again the sun was already fairly high, +and I saw, lying ahead of me, something dark, over which a thick mist +was resting. One moment I was obliged to scramble over hills, the next +to follow a winding path between rocks. I now guessed that I must be +in the neighboring mountains, and I began to feel afraid of the +solitude. For, living in the plain, I had never seen any mountains, +and the mere word mountains, whenever I heard them talked about, had +an exceedingly terrible sound to my childish ear. I hadn't the heart +to turn back--it was indeed precisely my fear which drove me onwards. +I often looked around me in terror when the wind rustled through the +leaves above me, or when a distant sound of chopping rang out through +the quiet morning. Finally, when I began to meet colliers and miners +and heard a strange pronunciation, I nearly fainted with fright. + +"You must forgive my prolixity. As often as I tell this story I +involuntarily become garrulous, and Eckbert, the only person to whom I +have told it, has spoiled me by his attention. + +"I passed through several villages and begged, for I now felt hungry +and thirsty. I helped myself along very well with the answers I gave +to questions asked me. I had wandered along in this way for about four +days, when I came to a small foot-path which led me farther from the +highway. The rocks around me now assumed a different, far stranger +shape. They were cliffs, and were piled up on one another in such a +way that they looked as if the first gust of wind would hurl them all +together into a heap. I did not know whether to go on or not. I had +always slept over night either in out-of-the-way shepherds' huts, or +else in the open woods, for it was just then the most beautiful season +of the year. Here I came across no human habitations whatever, nor +could I expect to meet with any in this wilderness. The rocks became +more and more terrible--I often had to pass close by dizzy precipices, +and finally even the path under my feet came to an end. I was +absolutely wretched; I wept and screamed, and my voice echoed horribly +in the rocky glens. And now night set in; I sought out a mossy spot to +lie down on, but I could not sleep. All night long I heard the most +peculiar noises; first I thought it was wild beasts, then the wind +moaning through the rocks, then again strange birds. I prayed, and not +until toward morning did I fall asleep. + +"I woke up when the daylight shone in my face. In front of me there +was a rock. I climbed up on it, hoping to find a way out of the +wilderness, and perhaps to see some houses or people. But when I +reached the top, everything, as far as my eye could see, was like +night about me--all overcast with a gloomy mist. The day was dark and +dismal, and not a tree, not a meadow, not even a thicket could my eye +discern, with the exception of a few bushes which, in solitary +sadness, had shot up through the crevices in the rocks. It is +impossible to describe the longing I felt merely to see a human being, +even had it been the most strange-looking person before whom I should +inevitably have taken fright. At the same time I was ravenously +hungry. I sat down and resolved to die. But after a while the desire +to live came off victorious; I got up quickly and walked on all day +long, occasionally crying out. At last I was scarcely conscious of +what I was doing; I was tired and exhausted, had hardly any desire to +live, and yet was afraid to die. + +"Toward evening the region around me began to assume a somewhat more +friendly aspect. My thoughts and wishes took new life, and the desire +to live awakened in all my veins. I now thought I heard the swishing +of a mill in the distance; I redoubled my steps, and how relieved, how +joyous I felt when at last I actually reached the end of the dreary +rocks! Woods and meadows and, far ahead, pleasant mountains lay before +me again. I felt as if I had stepped out of hell into paradise; the +solitude and my helplessness did not seem to me at all terrible now. + +"Instead of the hoped-for mill, I came upon a water-fall, which, to be +sure, considerably diminished my joy. I dished up some water from the +river with my hand and drank. Suddenly I thought I heard a low cough a +short distance away. Never have I experienced so pleasant a surprise +as at that moment; I went nearer and saw, on the edge of the forest, +an old woman, apparently resting. She was dressed almost entirely in +black; a black hood covered her head and a large part of her face. In +her hand she held a walking-stick. + +"I approached her and asked for help; she had me sit down beside her +and gave me bread and some wine. While I was eating she sang a hymn in +a shrill voice, and when she had finished she said that I might follow +her. + +"I was delighted with this proposal, strange as the voice and the +personality of the old woman seemed to me. She walked rather fast with +her cane, and at every step she distorted her face, which at first +made me laugh. The wild rocks steadily receded behind us--we crossed a +pleasant meadow, and then passed through a fairly long forest. When we +emerged from this, the sun was just setting, and I shall never forget +the view and the feelings of that evening. Everything was fused in the +most delicate red and gold; the tree-tops stood forth in the red glow +of evening, the charming light was spread out over the fields, the +forest and the leaves of the trees were motionless, the clear sky +looked like an open paradise, and the evening bells of the villages +rang out with a strange mournfulness across the lea. My young soul now +got its first presentment of the world and its events. I forgot myself +and my guide; my spirit and my eyes were wandering among golden +clouds. + +"We now climbed a hill, which was planted with birchtrees, and from +its summit looked down into a little valley, likewise full of birches. +In the midst of the trees stood a little hut. A lively barking came to +our ears, and presently a spry little dog was dancing around the old +woman and wagging his tail. Presently he came to me, examined me from +all sides, and then returned with friendly actions to the old woman. + +"When we were descending the hill I heard some wonderful singing, +which seemed to come from the hut. It sounded like a bird, and ran + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + Where none intrude, + Thou bringest good + For every mood, + O solitude! + +"These few words were repeated over and over; if I were to attempt to +describe the effect, it was somewhat like the blended notes of a bugle +and a shawm. + +"My curiosity was strained to the utmost. Without waiting for the old +woman's invitation, I walked into the hut with her. Dusk had already +set in. Everything was in proper order; a few goblets stood in a +cupboard, some strange-looking vessels lay on a table, and a bird was +hanging in a small, shiny cage by the window. And he, indeed, it was +that I had heard singing. The old woman gasped and coughed, seemingly +as if she would never get over it. Now she stroked the little dog, now +talked to the bird, which answered her only with its usual words. +Furthermore, she acted in no way as if I were present. While I was +thus watching her, a series of shudders passed through my body; for +her face was constantly twitching and her head shaking, as if with +age, and in such a way that it was impossible for one to tell how she +really looked. + +"When she finally ceased coughing she lighted a candle, set a very +small table, and laid the supper on it. Then she looked around at me +and told me to take one of the woven cane chairs. I sat down directly +opposite her, and the candle stood between us. She folded her bony +hands and prayed aloud, all the time twitching her face in such a way +that it almost made me laugh. I was very careful, however, not to do +anything to make her angry. + +"After supper she prayed again, and then showed me to a bed in a tiny +little side-room--she herself slept in the main room. I did not stay +awake long, for I was half dazed. I woke up several times during the +night, however, and heard the old woman coughing and talking to the +dog, and occasionally I heard the bird, which seemed to be dreaming +and sang only a few isolated words of its song. These stray notes, +united with the rustling of the birches directly in front of my +window, and also with the song of the far-off nightingale, made such a +strange combination that I felt all the time, not as if I were awake, +but as if I were lapsing into another, still stranger, dream. + +"In the morning the old woman woke me up and soon afterward gave me +some work to do; I had, namely, to spin, and I soon learned how to do +it; in addition I had to take care of the dog and the bird. I was not +long in getting acquainted with the housekeeping, and came to know all +the objects around. I now began to feel that everything was as it +should be; I no longer thought that there was anything strange about +the old woman, or romantic about the location of her home, or that the +bird was in any way extraordinary. To be sure, I was all the time +struck by his beauty; for his feathers displayed every possible color, +varying from a most beautiful light blue to a glowing red, and when he +sang he puffed himself out proudly, so that his feathers shone even +more gorgeously. + +"The old woman often went out and did not return until evening. Then I +would go with the dog to meet her and she would call me child and +daughter. Finally I came to like her heartily; for our minds, +especially in childhood, quickly accustom themselves to everything. In +the evening hours she taught me to read; I soon learned the art, and +afterward it was a source of endless pleasure to me in my solitude, +for she had a few old, hand-written books which contained wonderful +stories. + +"The memory of the life I led at that time still gives me a strange +feeling even now. I was never visited by any human being, and felt at +home only in that little family circle; for the dog and the bird made +the same impression on me which ordinarily only old and intimate +friends create. Often as I used it at that time, I have never been +able to recall the dog's strange name. + +"In this way I had lived with the old woman for four years, and I must +have been at any rate about twelve years old when she finally began to +grow more confidential and revealed a secret to me. It was this: every +day the bird laid one egg, and in this egg there was always a pearl or +a gem. I had already noticed that she often did something in the cage +secretly, but had never particularly concerned myself about it. She +now charged me with the task of taking out these eggs during her +absence, and of carefully preserving them in the vessels. She would +leave food for me and stay away quite a long time--weeks and months. +My little spinning-wheel hummed, the dog barked, the wonderful bird +sang, and meanwhile everything was so quiet in the region round about +that I cannot recall a single high wind or a thunder-storm during the +entire time. Not a human being strayed thither, not a wild animal came +near our habitation. I was happy, and sang and worked away from one +day to the next. Man would perhaps be right happy if he could thus +spend his entire life, unseen by others. + +"From the little reading that I did I formed quite wonderful +impressions of the world and of mankind. They were all drawn from +myself and the company I lived in; thus, if whimsical people were +spoken of I could not imagine them other than the little dog, +beautiful women always looked like the bird, and all old women were as +my wonderful old friend. I had also read a little about love, and in +my imagination I figured in strange tales. I formed a mental picture +of the most beautiful knight in the world and adorned him with all +sorts of excellences, without really knowing, after all my trouble, +what he looked like. But I could feel genuine pity for myself if he +did not return my love, and then I would make long, emotional speeches +to him, sometimes aloud, in order to win him. You smile--we are all +now past this period of youth. + +"I now liked it rather better when I was alone, for I was then myself +mistress of the house. The dog was very fond of me and did everything +I wanted him to do, the bird answered all my questions with his song, +my wheel was always spinning merrily, and so in the bottom of my heart +I never felt any desire for a change. When the old woman returned from +her wanderings she would praise my diligence, and say that her +household was conducted in a much more orderly manner since I belonged +to it. She was delighted with my development and my healthy look. In +short, she treated me in every way as if I were a daughter. + +"'You are a good child,' she once said to me in a squeaky voice. 'If +you continue thus, it will always go well with you. It never pays to +swerve from the right course--the penalty is sure to follow, though it +may be a long time coming.' While she was saying this I did not give a +great deal of heed to it, for I was very lively in all my movements. +But in the night it occurred to me again, and I could not understand +what she had meant by it. I thought her words over carefully--I had +read about riches, and it finally dawned on me that her pearls and +gems might perhaps be something valuable. This idea presently became +still clearer to me--but what could she have meant by the right +course? I was still unable to understand fully the meaning of her +words. + +"I was now fourteen years old. It is indeed a misfortune that human +beings acquire reason, only to lose, in so doing, the innocence of +their souls. In other words I now began to realize the fact that it +depended only upon me to take the bird and the gems in the old +woman's absence, and go out into the world of which I had read. At the +same time it was perhaps possible that I might meet my wonderfully +beautiful knight, who still held a place in my imagination. + +"At first this thought went no further than any other, but when I +would sit there spinning so constantly, it always came back against my +will and I became so deeply absorbed in it that I already saw myself +dressed up and surrounded by knights and princes. And whenever I would +thus lose myself, I easily grew very sad when I glanced up and found +myself in my little, narrow home. When I was about my business, the +old woman paid no further attention to me. + +"One day my hostess went away again and told me that she would be gone +longer this time than usual--I should pay strict attention to +everything, and not let the time drag on my hands. I took leave of her +with a certain uneasiness, for I somehow felt that I should never see +her again. I looked after her for a long time, and did not myself know +why I was so uneasy; it seemed almost as if my intention were already +standing before me, without my being distinctly conscious of it. + +"I had never taken such diligent care of the dog and the bird +before--they lay closer to my heart than ever now. The old woman had +been away several days when I arose with the firm purpose of +abandoning the hut with the bird and going out into the so-called +world. My mind was narrow and limited; I wanted again to remain there, +and yet the thought was repugnant to me. A strange conflict took place +in my soul--it was as if two contentious spirits were struggling +within me. One moment the quiet solitude would seem so beautiful to +me, and then again I would be charmed by the vision of a new world +with its manifold wonders. + +"I did not know what to do with myself. The dog was continually +dancing around me with friendly advances, the sunlight was spread out +cheerfully over the fields, and the green birch-trees shone brightly. +I had a feeling as if I had something to do requiring haste. +Accordingly, I caught the little dog, tied him fast in the room, and +took the cage, with the bird in it, under my arm. The dog cringed and +whined over this unusual treatment; he looked at me with imploring +eyes but I was afraid to take him with me. I also took one of the +vessels, which was filled with gems, and concealed it about me. The +others I left there. The bird twisted its head around in a singular +manner when I walked out of the door with him; the dog strained hard +to follow me, but was obliged to remain behind. + +"I avoided the road leading toward the wild rocks, and walked in the +opposite direction. The dog continued to bark and whine, and I was +deeply touched by it. Several times the bird started to sing, but, as +he was being carried, it was necessarily rather difficult for him. As +I walked along the barking grew fainter and fainter, and, finally, +ceased altogether. I cried and was on the point of turning back, but +the longing to see something new drove me on. + +"I had already traversed mountains and several forests when evening +came, and I was obliged to pass the night in a village. I was very +timid when I entered the public-house; they showed me to a room and a +bed, and I slept fairly well, except that I dreamt of the old woman, +who was threatening me. + +"My journey was rather monotonous; but the further I went the more the +picture of the old woman and the little dog worried me. I thought how +he would probably starve to death without my help, and in the forest I +often thought I would suddenly meet the old woman. Thus, crying and +sighing, I wandered along, and as often as I rested and put the cage +on the ground, the bird sang its wonderful song, and reminded me +vividly of the beautiful home I had deserted. As human nature is prone +to forget, I now thought that the journey I had made as a child was +not as dismal as the one I was now making, and I wished that I were +back in the same situation. + +"I had sold a few gems, and now, after wandering many days, I arrived +in a village. Even as I was entering it, a strange feeling came over +me--I was frightened and did not know why. But I soon discovered +why--it was the very same village in which I was born. How astonished +I was! How the tears of joy ran down my cheeks as a thousand strange +memories came back to me! There were a great many changes; new houses +had been built, others, which had then only recently been erected, +were now in a state of dilapidation. I came across places where there +had been a fire. Everything was a great deal smaller and more crowded +than I had expected. I took infinite delight in the thought of seeing +my parents again after so many years. I found the little house and the +well-known threshold--the handle on the door was just as it used to +be. I felt as if I had only yesterday left it ajar. My heart throbbed +vehemently. I quickly opened the door--but faces entirely strange to +me stared at me from around the room. I inquired after the shepherd, +Martin, and was told that both he and his wife had died three years +before. I hurried out and, crying aloud, left the village. + +"I had looked forward with such pleasure to surprising them with my +riches, and as a result of a remarkable accident the dream of my +childhood had really come true. And now it was all in vain--they could +no longer rejoice with me--the fondest hope of my life was lost to me +forever. + +"I rented a small house with a garden in a pleasant city, and engaged +a waiting-maid. The world did not appear to be such a wonderful place +as I had expected, but the old woman and my former home dropped more +and more out of my memory, so that, upon the whole, I lived quite +contentedly. + +"The bird had not sung for a long time, so that I was not a little +frightened one night when he suddenly began again. The song he sang, +however, was different--it was: + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + A vanished good + In dreams pursued, + In absence rued, + O solitude! + +"I could not sleep through the night; everything came back to my mind, +and I felt more than ever that I had done wrong. When I got up the +sight of the bird was positively repugnant to me; he was constantly +staring at me, and his presence worried me. He never ceased singing +now, and sang more loudly and shrilly than he used to. The more I +looked at him the more uneasiness I felt. Finally, I opened the cage, +stuck my hand in, seized him by the neck and squeezed my fingers +together forcibly. He looked at me imploringly, and I relaxed my +grip--but he was already dead. I buried him in the garden. + +"And now I was often seized with fear of my waiting-maid. My own past +came back to me, and I thought that she too might rob me some day, or +perhaps even murder me. For a long time I had known a young knight +whom I liked very much--I gave him my hand, and with that, Mr. +Walther, my story ends." + +"You should have seen her then," broke in Eckbert quickly. "Her youth, +her innocence, her beauty--and what an incomprehensible charm her +solitary breeding had given her! To me she seemed like a wonder, and I +loved her inexpressibly. I had no property, but with the help of her +love I attained my present condition of comfortable prosperity. We +moved to this place, and our union thus far has never brought us a +single moment of remorse." + +"But while I have been chattering," began Bertha again, "the night has +grown late. Let us go to bed." + +She rose to go to her room. Walther kissed her hand and wished her a +good-night, adding: + +"Noble woman, I thank you. I can readily imagine you with the strange +bird, and how you fed the little Strohmi." + +Without answering she left the room. Walther also lay down to sleep, +but Eckbert continued to walk up and down the room. + +"Aren't human beings fools?" he finally asked himself. "I myself +induced my wife to tell her story, and now I regret this confidence! +Will he not perhaps misuse it? Will he not impart it to others? Will +he not perhaps--for it is human nature--come to feel a miserable +longing for our gems and devise plans to get them and dissemble his +nature?" + +It occurred to him that Walther had not taken leave of him as +cordially as would perhaps have been natural after so confidential a +talk. When the soul is once led to suspect, it finds confirmations of +its suspicions in every little thing. Then again Eckbert reproached +himself for his ignoble distrust of his loyal friend, but he was +unable to get the notion entirely out of his mind. All night long he +tossed about with these thoughts and slept but little. + +Bertha was sick and could not appear for breakfast. Walther seemed +little concerned about it, and furthermore he left the knight in a +rather indifferent manner. Eckbert could not understand his conduct. +He went in to see his wife--she lay in a severe fever and said that +her story the night before must have excited her in this manner. + +After that evening Walther visited his friend's castle but rarely, and +even when he did come he went away again after a few trivial words. +Eckbert was exceedingly troubled by this behavior; to be sure, he +tried not to let either Bertha or Walther notice it, but both of them +must surely have been aware of his inward uneasiness. + +Bertha's sickness grew worse and worse. The doctor shook his head--the +color in her cheeks had disappeared, and her eyes became more and more +brilliant. + +One morning she summoned her husband to her bedside and told the maids +to withdraw. + +"Dear husband," she began, "I must disclose to you something which has +almost deprived me of my reason and has ruined my health, however +trivial it may seem to be. Often as I have told my story to you, you +will remember that I have never been able, despite all the efforts I +have made, to recall the name of the little dog with which I lived so +long. That evening when I told the story to Walther he suddenly said +to me when we separated: 'I can readily imagine how you fed the little +Strohmi.' Was that an accident? Did he guess the name, or did he +mention it designedly? And what, then, is this man's connection with +my lot? The idea has occurred to me now and then that I merely imagine +this accident--but it is certain, only too certain. It sent a feeling +of horror through me to have a strange person like that assist my +memory. What do you say, Eckbert?" + +Eckbert looked at his suffering wife with deep tenderness. He kept +silent, but was meditating. Then he said a few comforting words to her +and left the room. In an isolated room he walked back and forth with +indescribable restlessness--Walther for many years had been his sole +male comrade, and yet this man was now the only person in the world +whose existence oppressed and harassed him. It seemed to him that his +heart would be light and happy if only this one person might be put +out of the way. He took down his cross-bow with a view to distracting +his thoughts by going hunting. + +It was a raw and stormy day in the winter; deep snow lay on the +mountains and bent down the branches of the trees. He wandered about, +with the sweat oozing from his forehead. He came across no game, and +that increased his ill-humor. Suddenly he saw something move in the +distance--it was Walther gathering moss from the trees. Without +knowing what he was doing he took aim--Walther looked around and +motioned to him with a threatening gesture. But as he did so the arrow +sped, and Walther fell headlong. + +Eckbert felt relieved and calm, and yet a feeling of horror drove him +back to his castle. He had a long distance to go, for he had wandered +far into the forest. When he arrived home, Bertha had already +died--before her death she had spoken a great deal about Walther and +the old woman. + +For a long time Eckbert lived in greatest seclusion. He had always +been somewhat melancholy because the strange story of his wife rather +worried him; he had always lived in fear of an unfortunate event that +might take place, but now he was completely at variance with himself. +The murder of his friend stood constantly before his eyes--he spent +his life reproaching himself. + +In order to divert his thoughts, he occasionally betook himself to the +nearest large city, where he attended parties and banquets. He wished +to have a friend to fill the vacancy in his soul, and then again, when +he thought of Walther, the very word friend made him shudder. He was +convinced that he would necessarily be unhappy with all his friends. +He had lived so long in beautiful harmony with Bertha, and Walther's +friendship had made him happy for so many years, and now both of them +had been so suddenly taken from him that his life seemed at times more +like a strange fairy-tale than an actual mortal existence. + +A knight, Hugo von Wolfsberg, became attached to the quiet, melancholy +Eckbert, and seemed to cherish a genuine fondness for him. Eckbert was +strangely surprised; he met the knight's friendly advances more +quickly than the other expected. They were now frequently together, +the stranger did Eckbert all sorts of favors, scarcely ever did either +of them ride out without the other, they met each other at all the +parties--in short, they seemed to be inseparable. + +Eckbert was, nevertheless, happy only for short moments at a time, for +he felt quite sure that Hugo loved him only by mistake--he did not +know him, nor his history, and he felt the same impulse again to +unfold his soul to him in order to ascertain for sure how staunch a +friend Hugo was. Then again doubts and the fear of being detested +restrained him. There were many hours in which he felt so convinced +of his own unworthiness as to believe that no person, who knew him at +all intimately, could hold him worthy of esteem. But he could not +resist the impulse; in the course of a long walk he revealed his +entire history to his friend, and asked him if he could possibly love +a murderer. Hugo was touched and tried to comfort him. Eckbert +followed him back to the city with a lighter heart. + +However, it seemed to be his damnation that his suspicions should +awaken just at the time when he grew confidential; for they had no +more than entered the hall when the glow of the many lights revealed +an expression in his friend's features which he did not like. He +thought he detected a malicious smile, and it seemed to him that he, +Hugo, said very little to him, that he talked a great deal with the +other people present, and seemed to pay absolutely no attention to +him. There was an old knight in the company who had always shown +himself as Eckbert's rival, and had often inquired in a peculiar way +about his riches and his wife. Hugo now approached this man, and they +talked together a long time secretly, while every now and then they +glanced toward Eckbert. He, Eckbert, saw in this a confirmation of his +suspicions; he believed that he had been betrayed, and a terrible rage +overcame him. As he continued to stare in that direction, he suddenly +saw Walther's head, all his features, and his entire figure, so +familiar to him. Still looking, he became convinced that it was nobody +but Walther himself who was talking with the old man. His terror was +indescribable; completely beside himself, he rushed out, left the city +that night, and, after losing his way many times, returned to his +castle. + +Like a restless spirit he hurried from room to room. No thought could +he hold fast; the pictures in his mind grew more and more terrible, +and he did not sleep a wink. The idea often occurred to him that he +was crazy and that all these notions were merely the product of his +own imagination. Then again he remembered Walther's features, and it +was all more puzzling to him than ever. He resolved to go on a journey +in order to compose his thoughts; he had long since given up the idea +of a friend and the wish for a companion. + +Without any definite destination in view, he set out, nor did he pay +much attention to the country that lay before him. After he had +trotted along several days on his horse, he suddenly lost his way in a +maze of rocks, from which he was unable to discover any egress. +Finally he met an old peasant who showed him a way out, leading past a +water-fall. He started to give him a few coins by way of thanks, but +the peasant refused them. + +"What can it mean?" he said to himself. "I could easily imagine that +that man was no other than Walther." He looked back once more--it was +indeed no one else but Walther! + +Eckbert spurred on his horse as fast as it could run--through meadows +and forests, until, completely exhausted, it collapsed beneath him. +Unconcerned, he continued his journey on foot. + +Dreamily he ascended a hill. There he seemed to hear a dog barking +cheerily close by--birch trees rustled about him--he heard the notes +of a wonderful song: + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + Thou chiefest good, + Where thou dost brood + Is joy renewed, + O solitude! + +Now it was all up with Eckbert's consciousness and his senses; he +could not solve the mystery whether he was now dreaming or had +formerly dreamt of a woman Bertha. The most marvelous was confused +with the most ordinary--the world around him was bewitched--no +thought, no memory was under his control. + +An old crook-backed woman with a cane came creeping up the hill, +coughing. + +"Are you bringing my bird, my pearls, my dog?" she cried out to him. +"Look--wrong punishes itself. I and no other was your friend Walther, +your Hugo." + +"God in Heaven!" said Eckbert softly to himself. "In what terrible +solitude I have spent my life." + +"And Bertha was your sister." + +Eckbert fell to the ground. + +"Why did she desert me so deceitfully? Otherwise everything would have +ended beautifully--her probation-time was already over. She was the +daughter of a knight, who had a shepherd bring her up--the daughter of +your father." + +"Why have I always had a presentiment of these facts?" cried Eckbert. + +"Because in your early youth you heard your father tell of them. On +his wife's account he could not bring up this daughter himself, for +she was the child of another woman." + +Eckbert was delirious as he breathed his last; dazed and confused he +heard the old woman talking, the dog barking, and the bird repeating +its song. + + + + +THE ELVES[37] (1811) + +By LUDWIG TIECK + +TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC H. HEDGE + + +"Where is our little Mary?" asked the father. + +"She is playing out upon the green there, with our neighbor's boy," +replied the mother. + +"I wish they may not run away and lose themselves," said he; "they are +so heedless." + +The mother looked for the little ones, and brought them their evening +luncheon. "It is warm," said the boy; and Mary eagerly reached out for +the red cherries. + +"Have a care, children," said the mother, "and do not run too far from +home, or into the wood; father and I are going to the fields." + +Little Andrew answered: "Never fear, the wood frightens us; we shall +sit here by the house, where there are people near us." + +The mother went in, and soon came out again with her husband. They +locked the door, and turned toward the fields to look after their +laborers and see their hay-harvest in the meadow. Their house lay upon +a little green height, encircled by a pretty ring of paling, which +likewise inclosed their fruit and flower-garden. The hamlet stretched +somewhat deeper down, and on the other side lay the castle of the +Count. Martin rented the large farm from this nobleman, and was living +in contentment with his wife and only child; for he yearly saved some +money, and had the prospect of becoming a man of substance by his +industry, for the ground was productive, and the Count not illiberal. + +As he walked with his wife to the fields, he gazed cheerfully round, +and said: "What a different look this quarter has, Brigitta, from the +place we lived in formerly! Here it is all so green; the whole village +is bedecked with thick-spreading fruit-trees; the ground is full of +beautiful herbs and flowers; all the houses are cheerful and cleanly, +the inhabitants are at their ease: nay, I could almost fancy that the +woods are greener here than elsewhere, and the sky bluer; and, so far +as the eye can reach, you have pleasure and delight in beholding the +bountiful Earth." + +"And whenever you cross the stream," said Brigitta, "you are, as it +were, in another world, all is so dreary and withered; but every +traveler declares that our village is the fairest in the country, far +or near." + +"All but that fir-ground," said her husband; "do but look back to it, +how dark and dismal that solitary spot is lying in the gay scene--the +dingy fir-trees, with the smoky huts behind them, the ruined stalls, +the brook flowing past with a sluggish melancholy." + +"It is true," replied Brigitta; "if you but approach that spot, you +grow disconsolate and sad, you know not why. What sort of people can +they be that live there, and keep themselves so separate from the rest +of us, as if they had an evil conscience?" + +"A miserable crew," replied the young farmer; "gipsies, seemingly, +that steal and cheat in other quarters, and have their hoard and +hiding-place here. I wonder only that his lordship suffers them." + +"Who knows," said the wife, with an accent of pity, "but perhaps they +may be poor people, wishing, out of shame, to conceal their poverty; +for, after all, no one can say aught ill of them; the only thing is, +that they do not go to church, and none knows how they live; for the +little garden, which indeed seems altogether waste, cannot possibly +support them; and fields they have none." + +"God knows," said Martin, as they went along, "what trade they follow; +no mortal comes to them; for the place they live in is as if +bewitched and excommunicated, so that even our wildest fellows will +not venture into it." + +Such conversation they pursued while walking to the fields. That +gloomy spot they spoke of lay apart from the hamlet. In a dell, begirt +with firs, you might behold a hut and various dilapidated farm-houses; +rarely was smoke seen to mount from it, still more rarely did men +appear there; though at times curious people, venturing somewhat +nearer, had perceived upon the bench before the hut some hideous +women, in ragged clothes, dandling in their arms some children equally +dirty and ill-favored; black dogs were running up and down upon the +boundary; and, at eventide, a man of monstrous size was seen to cross +the foot-bridge of the brook, and disappear in the hut; then, in the +darkness, various shapes were observed, moving like shadows round an +open fire. This piece of ground, the firs, and the ruined hut, formed +in truth a strange contrast with the bright green landscape, the white +houses of the hamlet, and the stately new-built castle. + +The two little ones had now eaten their fruit; it came into their +heads to run races; and the little nimble Mary always got the start of +the less active Andrew. "It is not fair," cried Andrew at last; "let +us try it for some length, then we shall see who wins." + +"As thou wilt," said Mary; "only to the brook we must not run." + +"No," said Andrew; "but there, on the hill, stands the large +pear-tree, a quarter of a mile from this. I shall run by the left, +round past the fir-ground; thou canst try it by the right, over the +fields; so we do not meet till we get up, and then we shall see which +of us is the swifter." + +"Done," cried Mary, and began to run; "for we shall not interfere with +each other by the way, and my father says it is as far to the hill by +that side of the gipsies' house as by this." + +Andrew had already started, and Mary, turning to the right, could no +longer see him. "It is very silly," said she to herself; "I have only +to take heart, and run along the bridge, past the hut, and through the +yard, and I shall certainly be first." She was already standing by the +brook and the clump of firs. "Shall I? No; it is too frightful," said +she. A little white dog was standing on the farther side, and barking +with might and main. In her terror, Mary thought the dog some monster, +and sprang back. "Fie! fie!" said she, "the dolt is gone half way by +this time, while I stand here considering." The little dog kept +barking, and, as she looked at it more narrowly, it seemed no longer +frightful, but, on the contrary, quite pretty; it had a red collar +round its neck, with a glittering bell; and as it raised its head, and +shook itself in barking, the little bell sounded with the finest +tinkle. "Well, I must risk it!" cried she: "I will run for life; +quick, quick, I am through; certainly to Heaven, they cannot eat me up +alive in half a minute!" And with this, the gay, courageous little +Mary sprang along the foot-bridge; passed the dog, which ceased its +barking, and began to fawn on her; and in a moment she was standing on +the other bank, and the black firs all round concealed from view her +father's house and the rest of the landscape. + +But what was her astonishment when here! The loveliest, most +variegated flower-garden lay round her; tulips, roses, and lilies, +were glittering in the fairest colors; blue and gold-red butterflies +were wavering in the blossoms; cages of shining wire were hung on the +espaliers, with many-colored birds in them, singing beautiful songs; +and children in short white frocks, with flowing yellow hair and +brilliant eyes, were frolicking about; some playing with lambkins, +some feeding the birds, or gathering flowers and giving them to one +another; some, again, were eating cherries, grapes, and ruddy +apricots. No but was to be seen; but instead of it, a large fair +house, with a brazen door and lofty statues, stood glancing in the +middle of the space. Mary was confounded with surprise, and knew not +what to think; but, not being bashful, she went right up to the first +of the children, held out her hand, and wished the little creature +good evening. + +"Art thou come to visit us, then?" asked the glittering child; "I saw +thee running, playing on the other side, but thou wert frightened for +our little dog." + +"So you are not gipsies and rogues," exclaimed Mary, "as Andrew always +told me! He is a stupid thing, and talks of much he does not +understand." + +"Stay with us," said the strange little girl; "thou wilt like it +well." + +"But we are running a race." + +"Thou wilt find thy comrade soon enough. There, take and eat." + +Mary ate, and found the fruit more sweet than any she had ever tasted +in her life before; and Andrew, and the race, and the prohibition of +her parents, were entirely forgotten. + +A stately woman, in a shining robe, came toward them, and asked about +the stranger child. "Fairest lady," said Mary, "I came running hither +by chance, and now they wish to keep me." + +"Thou art aware, Zerina," said the lady, "that she can be here for but +a little while; besides, thou shouldst have asked my leave." + +"I thought," said Zerina, "when I saw her admitted across the bridge, +that I might do it; we have often seen her running in the fields, and +thou thyself hast taken pleasure in her lively temper. She will have +to leave us soon enough." + +"No, I will stay here," said the little stranger; "for here it is so +beautiful, and here I shall find the prettiest playthings, and store +of berries and cherries to boot. On the other side it is not half so +grand." + +The gold-robed lady went away with a smile; and many of the children +now came bounding round the happy Mary in their mirth, and twitched +her, and incited her to dance; others brought her lambs, or curious +playthings; others made music on instruments, and sang to it. + +She kept, however, by the playmate who had first met her; for Zerina +was the kindest and loveliest of them all. Little Mary cried and cried +again: "I will stay with you forever; I will stay with you, and you +shall be my sisters;" at which the children all laughed, and embraced +her. "Now, we shall have a royal sport," said Zerina. She ran into the +palace, and returned with a little golden box, in which lay a quantity +of seeds, like glittering dust. She lifted a few with her little hand, +and scattered some grains on the green earth. Instantly the grass +began to move, as in waves; and, after a few moments, bright +rose-bushes started from the ground, shot rapidly up, and budded all +at once, while the sweetest perfume filled the place. Mary also took a +little of the dust, and, having scattered it, she saw white lilies, +and the most variegated pinks, pushing up. At a signal from Zerina, +the flowers disappeared, and others rose in their room. "Now," said +Zerina, "look for something greater." She laid two pine-seeds in the +ground, and stamped them in sharply with her foot. Two green bushes +stood before them. "Grasp me fast," said she; and Mary threw her arms +about the slender form. She felt herself borne upward; for the trees +were springing under them with the greatest speed; the tall pines +waved to and fro, and the two children held each other fast embraced, +swinging this way and that in the red clouds of the twilight, and +kissed each other, while the rest were climbing up and down the trunks +with quick dexterity, pushing and teasing one another with loud +laughter when they met; if any fell down in the press, they flew +through the air, and sank slowly and surely to the ground. At length +Mary was beginning to be frightened; and the other little child sang a +few loud tones, and the trees again sank down and set them on the +ground as gently as they had lifted them before to the clouds. + +They next went through the brazen door of the palace. Here many fair +women, elderly and young, were sitting in the round hall, partaking of +the fairest fruits and listening to glorious invisible music. In the +vaulting of the ceiling, palms, flowers, and groves stood painted, +among which little figures of children were sporting and winding in +every graceful posture; and with the tones of the music, the images +altered and glowed with the most burning colors; now the blue and +green were sparkling like radiant light, now these tints faded back in +paleness, the purple flamed up, and the gold took fire; and then the +naked children seemed to be alive among the flower-garlands, and to +draw breath and emit it through their ruby-colored lips; so that by +turns you could see the glance of their little white teeth, and the +lighting up of their azure eyes. + +From the hall, a stair of brass led down to a subterranean chamber. +Here lay much gold and silver, and precious stones of every hue shone +out between them. Strange vessels stood along the walls, and all +seemed filled with costly things. The gold was worked into many forms, +and glittered with the friendliest red. Many little dwarfs were busied +in sorting the pieces from the heap, and putting them in the vessels; +others, hunch-backed and bandy-legged, with long red noses, were +tottering slowly along, half-bent to the ground, under full sacks, +which they bore as millers do their grain, and, with much panting, +shaking out the gold-dust on the ground. Then they darted awkwardly to +the right and left, and caught the rolling balls that were likely to +run away; and it happened now and then that one in his eagerness upset +another, so that both fell heavily and clumsily to the ground. They +made angry faces, and looked askance, as Mary laughed at their +gestures and their ugliness. Behind them sat an old crumpled little +man, whom Zerina reverently greeted; he thanked her with a grave +inclination of his head. He held a sceptre in his hand, and wore a +crown upon his brow, and all the other dwarfs appeared to regard him +as their master and obey his nod. + +"What more wanted?" asked he, with a surly voice, as the children +came a little nearer. Mary was afraid, and did not speak; but her +companion answered, they were only come to look about them in the +chamber. "Still your old child-tricks!" replied the dwarf; "will there +never be an end to idleness?" With this, he turned again to his +employment, kept his people weighing and sorting the ingots; some he +sent away on errands, some he chid with angry tones. + +"Who is the gentleman?" asked Mary. + +"Our Metal-Prince," replied Zerina, as they walked along. + +They seemed once more to reach the open air, for they were standing by +a lake, yet no sun appeared, and they saw no sky above their heads. A +little boat received them, and Zerina steered it diligently forward. +It shot rapidly along. On gaining the middle of the lake, little Mary +saw that multitudes of pipes, channels, and brooks were spreading from +the little sea in every direction. "These waters to the right," said +Zerina, "flow beneath your garden, and this is why it blooms so +freshly; by the other side we get down into the great stream." On a +sudden, out of all the channels, and from every quarter of the lake, +came a crowd of little children swimming up; some wore garlands of +sedge and water-lily; some had red stems of coral, others were blowing +on crooked shells; a tumultuous noise echoed merrily from the dark +shores; among the children might be seen the fairest women sporting in +the waters, and often several of the children sprang about some one of +them, and with kisses hung upon her neck and shoulders. All saluted +the stranger; and these steered onward through the revelry out of the +lake, into a little river, which grew narrower and narrower. At last +the boat came aground. The strangers took their leave, and Zerina +knocked against the cliff. This opened like a door, and a female form, +all red, assisted them to mount. "Are you all brisk here?" inquired +Zerina. "They are just at work," replied the other, "and happy as +they could wish; indeed, the heat is very pleasant." + +They went up a winding stair, and on a sudden Mary found herself in a +most resplendent hall, so that, as she entered, her eyes were dazzled +by the radiance. Flame-colored tapestry covered the walls with a +purple glow; and when her eye had grown a little used to it, the +stranger saw, to her astonishment, that, in the tapestry, there were +figures moving up and down in dancing joyfulness, in form so +beautiful, and of so fair proportions, that nothing could be seen more +graceful; their bodies were as of red crystal, so that it appeared as +if the blood were visible within them, flowing and playing in its +courses. They smiled on the stranger, and saluted her with various +bows; but as Mary was about approaching nearer them, Zerina plucked +her sharply back, crying: "Thou wilt burn thyself, my little Mary, for +the whole of it is fire." + +Mary felt the heat. "Why do the pretty creatures not come out," asked +she, "and play with us?" + +"As thou livest in the Air," replied the other, "so are they obliged +to stay continually in Fire, and would faint and languish if they left +it. Look now, how glad they are, how they laugh and shout; those down +below spread out the fire-floods everywhere beneath the earth, and +thereby the flowers, and fruits, and wine, are made to flourish; these +red streams again are to run beside the brooks of water; and thus the +fiery creatures are kept ever busy and glad. But for thee it is too +hot here; let us return to the garden." + +In the garden, the scene had changed since they left it. The moonshine +was lying on every flower; the birds were silent, and the children +were asleep in complicated groups, among the green groves. Mary and +her friend, however, did not feel fatigue, but walked about in the +warm summer night, in abundant talk, till morning. + +When the day dawned, they refreshed themselves on fruit and milk, and +Mary said: "Suppose we go, by way of change, to the firs, and see how +things look there?" + +"With all my heart," replied Zerina; "thou wilt see our watchmen, +too, and they will surely please thee; they are standing up among the +trees on the mound." The two proceeded through the flower-gardens by +pleasant groves, full of nightingales; then they ascended vine-hills; +and at last, after long following the windings of a clear brook, +arrived at the firs and the height which bounded the domain. "How does +it come," asked Mary, "that we have to walk so far here, when, +without, the circuit is so narrow?" + +"I know not," said her friend; "but so it is." + +They mounted to the dark firs, and a chill wind blew from without in +their faces; a haze seemed lying far and wide over the landscape. On +the top were many strange forms standing, with mealy, dusty faces, +their misshapen heads not unlike those of white owls; they were clad +in folded cloaks of shaggy wool; they held umbrellas of curious skins +stretched out above them; and they waved and fanned themselves +incessantly with large bat's wings, which flared out curiously beside +the woolen roquelaures. "I could laugh, yet I am frightened," cried +Mary. + +"These are our good trusty watchmen," said her playmate; "they stand +here and wave their fans, that cold anxiety and inexplicable fear may +fall on every one that attempts to approach us. They are covered so, +because without it is now cold and rainy, which they cannot bear. But +snow, or wind, or cold air, never reaches down to us; here is an +everlasting spring and summer: yet if these poor people on the top +were not frequently relieved, they would certainly perish." + +"But who are you, then?" inquired Mary, while again descending to the +flowery fragrance; "or have you no name at all?" + +"We are called the Elves," replied the friendly child; "people talk +about us on the Earth, as I have heard." + +They now perceived a mighty bustle on the green. "The fair Bird is +come!" cried the children to them: all hastened to the hall. Here, as +they approached, young and old were crowding over the threshold, all +shouting for joy; and from within resounded a triumphant peal of +music. Having entered, they perceived the vast circuit filled with the +most varied forms, and all were looking upward to a large Bird with +gleaming plumage, that was sweeping slowly round in the dome, and in +its stately flight describing many a circle. The music sounded more +gaily than before; the colors and lights alternated more rapidly. At +last the music ceased; and the Bird, with a rustling noise, floated +down upon a glittering crown that hung hovering in air under the high +window by which the hall was lighted from above. His plumage was +purple and green, and shining golden streaks played through it; on his +head there waved a diadem of feathers, so resplendent that they +sparkled like jewels. His bill was red, and his legs of a flashing +blue. As he moved, the tints gleamed through each other, and the eye +was charmed with their radiance. His size was as that of an eagle. But +now he opened his glittering beak; and sweetest melodies came pouring +from his moved breast, in finer tones than the lovesick nightingale +gives forth; still stronger rose the song, and streamed like floods of +Light, so that all, the very children themselves, were moved by it to +tears of joy and rapture. When he ceased, all bowed before him; he +again flew round the dome in circles, then darted through the door, +and soared into the light heaven, where he shone far up like a red +point, and then soon vanished from their eyes. + +"Why are ye all so glad?" inquired Mary, bending to her fair playmate, +who seemed smaller than yesterday. + +"The King is coming!" said the little one; "many of us have never seen +him, and whithersoever he turns his face, there are happiness and +mirth; we have long looked for him, more anxiously than you look for +spring when winter lingers with you; and now he has announced, by his +fair herald, that he is at hand. This wise and glorious Bird, that has +been sent to us by the King, is called Phoenix; he dwells far off in +Arabia, on a tree--there is no other that resembles it on Earth, as +in like manner there is no second Phoenix. + +[Illustration: #DANCE OF THE ELVES# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +When he feels himself grown old, he builds a pile of balm and incense, +kindles it, and dies singing; and then from the fragrant ashes soars +up the renewed Phoenix with unlessened beauty. It is seldom he so +wings his course that men behold him; and when once in centuries this +does occur, they note it in their annals, and expect remarkable +events. But now, my friend, thou and I must part; for the sight of the +King is not permitted thee." + +Then the lady with the golden robe came through the throng, and +beckoning Mary to her, led her into a sequestered walk. "Thou must +leave us, my dear child," said she; "the King is to hold his court +here for twenty years, perhaps longer; and fruitfulness and blessings +will spread far over the land, but chiefly here beside us; all the +brooks and rivulets will become more bountiful, all the fields and +gardens richer, the wine more generous, the meadows more fertile, and +the woods more fresh and green; a milder air will blow, no hail shall +hurt, no flood shall threaten. Take this ring, and think of us; but +beware of telling any one of our existence or we must fly this land, +and thou and all around will lose the happiness and blessing of our +neighborhood. Once more, kiss thy playmate, and farewell." They issued +from the walk; Zerina wept, Mary stooped to embrace her, and they +parted. Already she was on the narrow bridge; the cold air was blowing +on her back from the firs; the little dog barked with all its might, +and rang its little bell; she looked round, then hastened over, for +the darkness of the firs, the bleakness of the ruined huts, the +shadows of the twilight, were filling her with terror. + +"What a night my parents must have had on my account!" said she within +herself, as she stepped on the green; "and I dare not tell them where +I have been, or what wonders I have witnessed, nor indeed would they +believe me." Two men passing by saluted her, and as they went along, +she heard them say: "What a pretty girl! Where can she have come +from?" With quickened steps she approached the house; but the trees +which were hanging last night loaded with fruit were now standing dry +and leafless; the house was differently painted, and a new barn had +been built beside it. Mary was amazed, and thought she must be +dreaming. In this perplexity she opened the door; and behind the table +sat her father, between an unknown woman and a stranger youth. "Good +God! Father," cried she, "where is my mother?" + +"Thy mother!" said the woman, with a forecasting tone, and sprang +toward her: "Ha, thou surely canst not--yes, indeed, indeed thou art +my lost, long-lost, dear, only Mary!" She had recognized her by a +little brown mole beneath the chin, as well as by her eyes and shape. +All embraced her, all were moved with joy, and the parents wept. Mary +was astonished that she almost reached to her father's stature; and +she could not understand how her mother had become so changed and +faded; she asked the name of the stranger youth. "It is our neighbor's +Andrew," said Martin. "How comest thou to us again, so unexpectedly, +after seven long years? Where hast thou been? Why didst thou never +send us tidings of thee?" + +"Seven years!" said Mary, and could not order her ideas and +recollections. "Seven whole years?" + +"Yes, yes," said Andrew, laughing, and shaking her trustfully by the +hand; "I have won the race, good Mary; I was at the pear-tree and back +again seven years ago, and thou, sluggish creature, art but just +returned!" + +They again asked, they pressed her; but remembering her instruction, +she could answer nothing. It was they themselves chiefly that, by +degrees, shaped a story for her: How, having lost her way, she had +been taken up by a coach, and carried to a strange remote part, where +she could not give the people any notion of her parents' residence; +how she was conducted to a distant town, where certain worthy persons +brought her up, and loved her; how they had lately died, and at length +she had recollected her birthplace, and so returned. "No matter how it +is!" exclaimed her mother; "enough that we have thee again, my little +daughter, my own, my all!" + +Andrew waited supper, and Mary could not be at home in anything she +saw. The house seemed small and dark; she felt astonished at her +dress, which was clean and simple, but appeared quite foreign; she +looked at the ring on her finger, and the gold of it glittered +strangely, inclosing a stone of burning red. To her father's question, +she replied that the ring also was a present from her benefactors. + +She was glad when the hour of sleep arrived, and she hastened to her +bed. Next morning she felt much more collected; she had now arranged +her thoughts a little, and could better stand the questions of the +people in the village, all of whom came in to bid her welcome. Andrew +was there too with the earliest, active, glad, and serviceable beyond +all others. The blooming maiden of fifteen had made a deep impression +on him; he had passed a sleepless night. The people of the castle +likewise sent for Mary, and she had once more to tell her story to +them, which was now grown quite familiar to her. The old Count and his +Lady were surprised at her good breeding; she was modest, but not +embarrassed; she made answer courteously in good phrases to all their +questions; all fear of noble persons and their equipage had passed +away from her; for when she measured these halls and forms by the +wonders and the high beauty she had seen with the Elves in their +hidden abode, this earthly splendor seemed but dim to her, the +presence of men was almost mean. The young lords were charmed with her +beauty. + +It was now February. The trees were budding earlier than usual; the +nightingale had never come so soon; the spring rose fairer in the land +than the oldest men could recollect it. In every quarter, little +brooks gushed out to irrigate the pastures and meadows; the hills +seemed heaving, the vines rose higher and higher, the fruit-trees +blossomed as they had never done; and a swelling fragrant blessedness +hung suspended heavily in rosy clouds over the scene. All prospered +beyond expectation: no rude day, no tempest injured the fruits; the +wine flowed blushing in immense grapes; and the inhabitants of the +place felt astonished, and were captivated as in a sweet dream. The +next year was like its forerunner; but men had now become accustomed +to the marvelous. In autumn, Mary yielded to the pressing entreaties +of Andrew and her parents; she was betrothed to him, and in winter +they were married. + +She often thought with inward longing of her residence behind the +fir-trees; she continued serious and still. Beautiful as all that lay +around her was, she knew of something yet more beautiful; and from the +remembrance of this a faint regret attuned her nature to soft +melancholy. It smote her painfully when her father and mother talked +about the gipsies and vagabonds that dwelt in the dark spot of ground. +Often she was on the point of speaking out in defense of those good +beings, whom she knew to be the benefactors of the land; especially to +Andrew, who appeared to take delight in zealously abusing them; yet +still she repressed the word that was struggling to escape her bosom. +So passed this year; in the next, she was solaced by a little +daughter, whom she named Elfrida, thinking of the designation of her +friendly Elves. + +The young people lived with Martin and Brigitta, the house being large +enough for all, and helped their parents in conducting their now +extended husbandry. The little Elfrida soon displayed peculiar +faculties and gifts; for she could walk at a very early age, and could +speak perfectly before she was a twelvemonth old; and after some few +years she had become so wise and clever, and of such wondrous beauty, +that all people regarded her with astonishment, and her mother could +not banish the thought that her child resembled one of those shining +little ones in the space behind the Firs. Elfrida cared not to be with +other children, but seemed to avoid, with a sort of horror, their +tumultuous amusements, and liked best to be alone. She would then +retire into a corner of the garden, and read, or work diligently with +her needle; often also you might see her sitting, as if deep in +thought, or impetuously walking up and down the alleys, speaking to +herself. Her parents readily allowed her to have her will in these +things, for she was healthy, and waxed apace; only her strange +sagacious answers and observations often made them anxious. "Such wise +children do not grow to age," her grandmother, Brigitta, many times +observed; "they are too good for this world; the child, besides, is +beautiful beyond nature, and will never find her proper place on +Earth." + +The little girl had this peculiarity, that she was very loath to let +herself be served by any one, but endeavored to do everything herself. +She was almost the earliest riser in the house; she washed herself +carefully, and dressed without assistance; at night she was equally +careful; she took special heed to pack up her clothes and belongings +with her own hands, allowing no one, not even her mother, to meddle +with her articles. The mother humored her in this caprice, not +thinking it of any consequence. But what was her astonishment, when, +happening one holiday to insist, regardless of Elfrida's tears and +screams, on dressing her out for a visit to the castle, she found upon +her breast, suspended by a string, a piece of gold of a strange form, +which she directly recognized as one of the sort she had seen in such +abundance in the subterranean vaults! The little thing was greatly +frightened, and at last confessed that she had found it in the garden, +and, as she liked it much, had kept it carefully; she at the same time +prayed so earnestly and pressingly to have it back that Mary fastened +it again in its former place, and, full of thoughts, went out with her +in silence to the castle. + +Sideward from the farm-house lay some offices for the storing of +produce and implements; and behind these there was a little green, +with an old arbor, now visited by no one, as, from the new arrangement +of the buildings, it lay too far from the garden. In this solitude +Elfrida delighted most; and it occurred to nobody to interrupt her +here, so that frequently her parents did not see her for half a day. +One afternoon her mother chanced to be in these buildings, seeking for +some lost article among the lumber; and she noticed that a beam of +light was coming in, through a chink in the wall. She took a thought +of looking through this aperture, and seeing what her child was busied +with; and it happened that a stone was lying loose, and could be +pushed aside, so that she obtained a view right into the arbor. +Elfrida was sitting there on a little bench, and beside her the +well-known Zerina; and the children were playing and amusing each +other, in the kindliest unity. The Elf embraced her beautiful +companion, and said mournfully: "Ah! dear little creature, as I sport +with thee, so have I sported with thy mother, when she was a child; +but you mortals so soon grow tall and thoughtful! It is very hard; +wert thou but to be a child as long as I!" + +"Willingly would I do it," said Elfrida; "but they all say I shall +come to sense and give over playing altogether; for I have great +gifts, as they think, for growing wise. Ah! and then I shall see thee +no more, thou dear Zerina! Yet it is with us as with the fruit-tree +flowers--how glorious the blossoming apple-tree, with its red bursting +buds! It looks so stately and broad; and every one that passes under +it thinks surely something great will come of it; then the sun grows +hot, and the buds come joyfully forth; but the wicked kernel is +already there, which pushes off and casts away the fair flower's +dress; and now, in pain and waxing, it can do nothing more, but must +grow to fruit in harvest. An apple, to be sure, is pretty and +refreshing; yet nothing to the blossom of spring. So is it also with +us mortals; I am not glad in the least at growing to be a tall girl. +Ah! could I but once visit you!" + +"Since the King is with us," said Zerina, "it is quite impossible; but +I will come to thee, my darling, often, often, and none shall see me +either here or there. I will pass invisible through the air, or fly +over to thee like a bird. Oh, we will be much, much together, while +thou art so little! What can I do to please thee?" + +"Thou must like me very dearly," said Elfrida, "as I like thee in my +heart; but come, let us make another rose." Zerina took a well-known +box from her bosom, threw two grains from it on the ground, and +instantly a green bush stood before them, with two deep-red roses, +bending their heads as if to kiss each other. The children plucked +them smiling, and the bush disappeared. "O that it would not die so +soon!" said Elfrida; "this red child, this wonder of the Earth!" + +"Give it me here," said the little Elf; then breathed thrice upon the +budding rose, and kissed it thrice. "Now," said she, giving back the +rose, "it will continue fresh and blooming till winter." + +"I will keep it," said Elfrida, "as an image of thee; I will guard it +in my little room, and kiss it night and morning as if it were +thyself." + +"The sun is setting," said the other; "I must home." They embraced +again, and Zerina vanished. + +In the evening, Mary clasped her child to her breast, with a feeling +of alarm and veneration. She henceforth allowed the good little girl +more liberty than formerly; and often calmed her husband, when he came +to search for the child; which for some time he was wont to do, as her +retiredness did not please him, and he feared that, in the end, it +might make her silly, or even pervert her understanding. The mother +often glided to the chink; and almost always found the bright Elf +beside her child, employed in sport, or in earnest conversation. + +"Wouldst thou like to fly?" inquired Zerina once. + +"Oh, well! How well!" replied Elfrida; and the fairy clasped her +mortal playmate in her arms, and mounted with her from the ground, +till they hovered above the arbor. The mother, in alarm, forgot +herself, and pushed out her head in terror to look after them; when +Zerina from the air, held up her finger, and threatened, yet smiled; +then descended with the child, embraced her, and disappeared. After +this, it happened more than once that Mary was observed by her; and +every time, the shining little creature shook her head, or threatened, +yet with friendly looks. + +Often, in disputing with her husband, Mary had said in her zeal: "Thou +dost injustice to the poor people in the hut!" But when Andrew pressed +her to explain why she differed in opinion from the whole village, +nay, from his lordship himself, and why she could understand it better +than the whole of them, she still broke off embarrassed, and became +silent. One day, after dinner, Andrew grew more insistent than ever, +and maintained that, by one means or another, the crew must be packed +away, as a nuisance to the country; when his wife, in anger, said to +him: "Hush! for they are benefactors to thee and to every one of us." + +"Benefactors!" cried the other, in astonishment; "These rogues and +vagabonds?" + +In her indignation, she was now at last tempted to relate to him, +under promise of the strictest secrecy, the history of her youth; and +as Andrew at every word grew more incredulous, and shook his head in +mockery, she took him by the hand, and led him to the chink; where, to +his amazement, he beheld the glittering Elf sporting with his child, +and caressing her in the arbor. He knew not what to say; an +exclamation of astonishment escaped him, and Zerina raised her eyes. +On the instant she grew pale, and trembled violently; not with +friendly, but with indignant looks, she made the sign of threatening, +and then said to Elfrida "Thou canst not help it, dearest heart; but +outsiders will never learn sense, wise as they believe themselves." +She embraced the little one with stormy haste; and then, in the shape +of a raven, flew with hoarse cries over the garden, toward the firs. + +In the evening, the little one was very still, she kissed her rose +with tears; Mary felt depressed and frightened; Andrew scarcely spoke. +It grew dark. Suddenly there went a rustling through the trees; birds +flew to and fro with wild screaming, thunder was heard to roll, the +earth shook, and tones of lamentation moaned in the air. Andrew and +his wife had not courage to rise; they wrapped themselves in their bed +clothes, and with fear and trembling awaited the day. Toward morning +it grew calmer; and all was silent when the sun, with his cheerful +light, rose over the wood. + +Andrew dressed himself, and Mary now observed that the stone of the +ring upon her finger had become quite pale. On opening the door, the +sun shone clear on their faces, but the scene around them they could +scarcely recognize. The freshness of the wood was gone; the hills were +shrunk, the brooks were flowing languidly with scanty streams, the sky +seemed gray; and when you turned to the Firs, they were standing there +no darker or more dreary than the other trees. The huts behind were no +longer frightful; and several inhabitants of the village came and told +about the fearful night, and how they had been across the spot where +the gipsies had lived; how these people must have left the place at +last, for their huts were standing empty, and within had quite a +common look, just like the dwellings of other poor people; some of +their household gear was left behind. + +Elfrida in secret said to her mother: "I could not sleep last night; +and in my fright at the noise, I was praying from the bottom of my +heart, when the door suddenly opened, and my playmate entered to take +leave of me. She had a traveling-pouch slung round her, a hat on her +head, and a large staff in her hand. She was very angry at thee; since +on thy account she had now to suffer the severest and most painful +punishments, as she had always been so fond of thee; for all of them, +she said, were very loath to leave this quarter." + +Mary forbade her to speak of this; and now the ferryman came across +the river, and told them new wonders. As it was growing dark, a +stranger of large size had come to him, and had hired his boat till +sunrise, but with this condition, that the boatman should remain quiet +in his house--at least should not cross the threshold of his door. "I +was frightened," continued the old man, "and the strange bargain would +not let me sleep. I slipped softly to the window, and looked toward +the river. Great clouds were driving restlessly through the sky, and +the distant woods were rustling fearfully; it was as if my cottage +shook, and moans and lamentations glided round it. On a sudden, I +perceived a white streaming light that grew broader and broader, like +many thousands of falling stars; sparkling and waving, it proceeded +forward from the dark Fir-ground, moved over the fields, and spread +itself along toward the river. Then I heard a trampling, a jingling, a +bustling, and rushing, nearer and nearer; it went forward to my boat, +and all stepped into it, men and women; as it seemed, and children; +and the tall stranger ferried them over. In the river, by the boat, +were swimming many thousands of glittering forms; in the air white +clouds and lights were wavering; and all lamented and bewailed that +they must travel forth so far, far away, and leave their beloved +dwelling. The noise of the rudder and the water creaked and gurgled +between whiles, and then suddenly there would be silence. Many a time +the boat landed, and went back, and was again laden; many heavy casks, +too, they took along with them, which multitudes of horrid-looking +little fellows carried and rolled; whether they were devils or +goblins, Heaven only knows. Then came, in waving brightness, a stately +train; it seemed an old man, mounted on a small white horse, and all +were crowding round him. I saw nothing of the horse but its head; for +the rest of it was covered with costly glittering cloths and +trappings; on his brow the old man had a crown, so bright that, as he +came across, I thought the sun was rising there and the redness of the +dawn glimmering in my eyes. Thus it went on all night; I at last fell +asleep in the tumult, half in joy, half in terror. In the morning all +was still; but the river is, as it were, run off, and I know not how +I am to use my boat in it now." + +The same year there came a blight; the woods died away, the springs +ran dry; and the scene, which had once been the joy of every traveler, +was in autumn standing waste, naked, and bald, scarcely showing here +and there, in the sea of sand, a spot or two where grass, with a dingy +greenness, still grew up. The fruit-trees all withered, the vines +faded away, and the aspect of the place became so melancholy that the +Count, with his people, next year left the castle, which in time +decayed and fell to ruins. + +Elfrida gazed on her rose day and night with deep longing, and thought +of her kind playmate; and as it drooped and withered, so did she also +hang her head; and before the spring, the little maiden had herself +faded away. Mary often stood upon the spot before the hut, and wept +for the happiness that had departed. She wasted herself away like her +child, and in a few years she too was gone. Old Martin, with his +son-in-law, returned to the quarter where he had lived before. + + + + +HEINRICH VON KLEIST + + * * * * * + +THE LIFE OF HEINRICH VON KLEIST + +By JOHN S. NOLLEN, PH.D. + +President of Lake Forest College + + +Brandenburg has, from olden times, been the stern mother of soldiers, +rearing her sons in a discipline that has seemed harsh to the gentler +children of sunnier lands. The rigid and formal pines that grow in +sombre military files from the sandy ground make a fit landscape for +this race of fighting and ruling men. In the wider extent of Prussia +as well, the greatest names have been those of generals and statesmen, +such as the Great Elector, Frederick the Great, and Bismarck, rather +than poets and artists. Even among the notable writers of this region, +intellectual power has usually predominated over gifts of feeling or +of imagination; the arid, formal talent of Gottsched is an exemplary +instance, and the singularly cold and colorless mind of the greatest +thinker of modern times, Immanuel Kant, seems eminently Prussian in +quality. Growing out of such traditions and antecedents as these, the +genius of Heinrich von Kleist appears as a striking anomaly. + +This first great literary artist of Prussia was descended from a +representative Prussian family of soldiers, which had numbered +eighteen generals among its members. Heinrich von Kleist was born +October 18, 1777, at Frankfort-on-the-Oder, in the heart of +Brandenburg, where his father was stationed as a captain in the +service of Frederick the Great. The parents, both of gentle birth, +died before their children had grown to maturity. Heinrich was +predestined by all the traditions of the family to a military career; +after a private education he became, at the age of fourteen, a +corporal in the regiment of guards at Potsdam. + +[Illustration: #HEINRICH VON KLEIST IN HIS TWENTY-FOURTH YEAR# Made +after a miniature presented by the poet to his bride] + +The regiment was ordered south for the Rhine campaign against the +French revolutionists, but the young soldier saw little actual +fighting, and in June, 1795, his battalion had returned to Potsdam; he +was then an ensign, and in his twentieth year was promoted to the rank +of second lieutenant. + +The humdrum duties and the easy pleasures of garrison life had no +lasting charms for the future poet, who was as yet unconscious of his +latent power, but was restlessly reaching out for a wider and deeper +experience. We soon find him preparing himself, by energetic private +study, for the University; in April, 1799, against the wishes of his +family and his superior officers, he obtained a discharge from the +army and entered upon his brief course as a student in his native +city. He applied himself with laborious zeal to the mastery of a wide +range of subjects, and hastened, with pedantic gravity, to retail his +newly won learning to his sisters and a group of their friends. For +the time being, the impulse of self-expression took this didactic +turn, which is very prominent also in his correspondence. Within the +year he was betrothed to a member of this informal class, Wilhelmina +von Zenge, the daughter of an officer. The question of a career now +crowded out his interest in study; in August, 1800, as a step toward +the solution of this problem, Kleist returned to Berlin and secured a +modest appointment in the customs department. He found no more +satisfaction in the civil than in his former military service, and all +manner of vague plans, artistic, literary and academic, occupied his +mind. Intensive study of Kant's philosophy brought on an intellectual +crisis, in which the ardent student found himself bereft of his fond +hope of attaining to absolute truth. Meanwhile the romantic appeal of +Nature, first heeded on a trip to Würzburg, and the romantic lure of +travel, drew the dreamer irresistibly away from his desk. His sister +Ulrica accompanied him on a journey that began in April, 1801, and +brought them, by a devious route, to Paris in July. By this time +Kleist had become clearly conscious of his vocation; the strong +creative impulse that had hitherto bewildered him now found its proper +vent in poetic expression, and he felt himself dedicated to a literary +career. With characteristic secretiveness he kept hidden, even from +his sister, the drama at which he was quietly working. + +Absorbed in his new ambition, Kleist found little in Paris to interest +him. He felt the need of solitude for the maturing of his plans, and +with the double object of seeking in idyllic pursuits the inspiration +of Nature and of earning leisure for writing, he proposed to his +betrothed that she join him secretly in establishing a home upon a +small farm in Switzerland. When Wilhelmina found it impossible to +accept this plan, Kleist coldly severed all relations with her. He +journeyed to Switzerland in December, 1801, and in Bern became +acquainted with a group of young authors, the novelist Heinrich +Zschokke, the publisher Heinrich Gessner, and Ludwig Wieland, son of +the famous author of _Oberon_. To these sympathetic friends he read +his first tragedy, which, in its earlier draft, had a Spanish setting, +as _The Thierrez Family_ or _The Ghonorez Family_, but which, on their +advice, was given a German background. This drama Gessner published +for Kleist, under the title _The Schroffenstein Family_, in the winter +of 1802-03. It had no sooner appeared than the author felt himself to +have outgrown its youthful weaknesses of imitation and exaggeration. +Another dramatic production grew directly out of the discussions of +this little circle. The friends agreed, on a wager, to put into +literary form the story suggested by an engraving that hung in +Zschokke's room. By common consent the prize was awarded to Kleist's +production, his one comedy, _The Broken Jug_. + +In April, 1802, Kleist realized his romantic dream by taking up his +abode, in rural seclusion, on a little island at the outlet of the +Lake of Thun, amid the majestic scenery of the Bernese Oberland. In +this retreat, encouraged by the applause of his first confidants, he +labored with joyous energy, recasting his _Schroffenstein Family_, +working out the _Broken Jug_, meditating historical dramas on Leopold +of Austria and Peter the Hermit, and expending the best of his +untrained genius on the plan of a tragedy, _Robert Guiscard_, in which +he strove to create a drama of a new type, combining the beauties of +Greek classical art and of Shakespeare; with his _Guiscard_ the young +poet even dared hope to "snatch the laurel wreath from Goethe's brow." + +Two months of intense mental exertion in the seclusion of his island +left Kleist exhausted, and he fell seriously ill; whereupon Ulrica, on +receiving belated news of his plight, hastened to Bern to care for +him. When a political revolution drove Ludwig Wieland from Bern, they +followed the latter to Weimar, where the poet Wieland, the dean of the +remarkable group of great authors gathered at Weimar, received Kleist +kindly, and made him his guest at his country estate. With great +difficulty Wieland succeeded in persuading his secretive visitor to +reveal his literary plans; and when Kleist recited from memory some of +the scenes of his unfinished _Guiscard_, the old poet was transported +with enthusiasm; these fragments seemed to him worthy of the united +genius of Æschylus, Sophocles, and Shakespeare, and he was convinced +that Kleist had the power to "fill the void in the history of the +German drama that even Goethe and Schiller had not filled." But in +spite of Wieland's generous encouragement, Kleist found it impossible +to complete this masterpiece, and his hopeless pursuit of the perfect +ideal became an intolerable obsession to his ambitious and sensitive +soul. He could not remain in Weimar. In Dresden old friends sought to +cheer him in his desperate attempts to seize the elusive ideal; to +more than one of them, in his despair, he proposed a joint suicide. +Again he was driven to seek solace and inspiration in travel, a friend +accompanying him to Switzerland. Arrived at Geneva in October, 1803, +Kleist fell into the deepest despondency, and wrote Ulrica a letter +full of hopeless renunciation. Half crazed by disappointment and +wounded pride, he rushed madly through France to Paris, broke with his +friend, who had again repelled a joint suicide, burned his manuscript +of _Guiscard_, and made secretly for Boulogne, hoping to find an +honorable death in Napoleon's projected invasion of England. +Fortunately he fell in with an acquaintance who saved him from the +risk of being arrested as a spy, and started him back on his homeward +way. He was detained at Mentz by serious illness, but finally, in +June, 1804, reappeared in Potsdam. The poet's spirit was broken, and +he was glad to accept a petty civil post that took him to Königsberg. +After a year of quiet work, he was enabled, by a small pension from +Queen Louise, to resign his office and again devote himself to +literature. + +The two years spent in Königsberg were years of remarkable development +in Kleist's literary power. Warned by the catastrophe of the earlier +attempt to reach the heights at a single bound, he now schooled +himself with simpler tasks: adaptations, from the French, of La +Fontaine's poem, _The two Pigeons_, and of Molière's comedy, +_Amphitryon_--both so altered in the interpretation that they seem +more like originals than translations; prose tales that are admirable +examples of this form--_The Marquise of O._, _The Earthquake in +Chili_, and the first part of the masterly short story _Michael +Kohlhaas_; and the recasting of the unique comedy _The Broken Jug_. +Finally he attempted another great drama in verse, _Penthesilea_, +embodying in the old classical story the tragedy of his own desperate +struggle for _Guiscard_, and his crushing defeat. + +Meanwhile the clouds were gathering about his beloved country, and in +October, 1806, the thunderbolt fell in the rout of the Prussian army +at Jena. Napoleon's victorious troops pressed on to Berlin and the +Prussian court retreated with the tide of fugitives to Königsberg. +Kleist was overwhelmed by the misery of this cataclysm, which, +however, he had clearly foreseen and foretold. With a group of +friends he started on foot for Dresden, but was arrested as a spy at +the gates of Berlin and held for months as a prisoner in French +fortresses, before the energetic efforts of Ulrica and others procured +his release. + +Late in July, 1807, he finally arrived in Dresden, where he remained +until April, 1809. These were the happiest and the most prolific +months of his fragmentary life. The best literary and social circles +of the Saxon capital were open to him, his talent was recognized by +the leading men of the city, a laurel wreath was placed upon his brow +by "the prettiest hands in Dresden;" at last he found all his hopes +being realized. With three friends he embarked on an ambitious +publishing enterprise, which included the issuing of a sumptuous +literary and artistic monthly, the _Phoebus_. This venture was +foredoomed to failure by the inexperience of its projectors and by the +unsettled condition of a time full of political upheaval and most +unfavorable to any literary enterprise. Kleist's own contributions to +this periodical were of the highest value; here appeared first in +print generous portions of _Penthesilea, The Broken Jug_, and the new +drama _Kitty of Heilbronn_, the first act of the ill-fated _Robert +Guiscard_, evidently reproduced from memory, _The Marquise of O._, and +part of _Michael Kohlhaas_. If we add to these works the great +patriotic drama, _Arminius_ (_Die Hermannsschlacht_), two tales, _The +Betrothal in San Domingo_ and _The Foundling_, and lyric and narrative +poems, the production of the brief period in Dresden is seen to bulk +very large. + +In the stress of the times and in spite of the most strenuous efforts, +the _Phoebus_ went under with the first volume, and the publishing +business was a total wreck. Kleist's joy at the acceptance of _The +Broken Jug_ by Goethe for the Weimar theatre was turned to bitterness +when, because of unintelligent acting and stage management, this +brilliant comedy failed wretchedly; the disappointed author held +Goethe responsible for this fiasco and foolishly attacked him in a +series of spiteful epigrams. He longed to have his _Arminius_ +performed at Vienna, but the Austrian authorities were too timid to +risk the production of a play that openly preached German unity and a +war of revenge against the "Roman tyranny" of Napoleon. Kleist then +turned to lyric poetry and polemic tirades for the expression of his +patriotic ardor. When Austria rose against Napoleon, he started for +the seat of war and was soon the happy eye-witness of the Austrian +victory at Aspern, in May, 1809. In Prague, with the support of the +commandant, he planned a patriotic journal, for which he immediately +wrote a series of glowing articles, mostly in the form of political +satires. This plan was wrecked by the decisive defeat of the Austrians +at Wagram in July. + +Broken by these successive disasters, Kleist again fell seriously ill; for +four months his friends had no word from him, and reports of his death +were current. In November, 1809, he came to Frankfort-on-the-Oder to +dispose of his share in the family home as a last means of raising funds, +and again disappeared. In January, 1810, he passed through Frankfort +on the way to Berlin, to which the Prussian court, now subservient to +Napoleon, had returned. He found many old friends in Berlin, and even +had prospects of recognition from the court, as the brave and beautiful +Queen Louise was very kindly disposed toward him. Again he turned to +dramatic production, and in the patriotic Prussian play, _Prince +Frederick of Homburg_, created his masterpiece. Fortune seemed once +more to be smiling upon the dramatist; the _Prince of Homburg_ was to +be dedicated to Queen Louise, and performed privately at the palace of +Prince Radziwill, before being given at the National Theatre. But +again the cup of success was dashed from the poet's lips. With the +death of Queen Louise, in July, 1810, he lost his only powerful friend +at court, and now found it impossible to get a hearing for his drama. + +[Illustration: SARCOPHAGUS OF QUEEN LOUISE IN THE MAUSOLEUM AT +CHARLOTTENBURG _Sculptor, Christian Rauch_] + +Other disappointments came in rapid succession. _Kitty of Heilbronn_, +performed after many delays at Vienna, was not a success, and Iffland, +the popular dramatist and director of the Berlin Theatre, rejected +this play, while accepting all manner of commonplace works by inferior +authors. The famous publisher Cotta did print _Penthesilea_, but was +so displeased with it that he made no effort to sell the edition, and +_Kitty of Heilbronn_, declined by Cotta, fell flat when it was printed +in Berlin. Two volumes of tales, including some masterpieces in this +form, hardly fared better; the new numbers in this collection were +_The Duel, The Beggar Woman of Locarno_, and _Saint Cecilia_. Again +the much-tried poet turned to journalism. From October, 1810, until +March, 1811, with the assistance of the popular philosopher Adam +Müller and the well-known romantic authors Arnim, Brentano, and +Fouqué, he published a politico-literary journal appearing five times +a week. The enterprise began well, and aroused a great deal of +interest. Gradually, however, the censorship of a government that was +at once timid and tyrannical limited the scope and destroyed the +effectiveness of the paper, and Kleist spent himself in vain efforts +to keep it alive. The poet now found himself in a desperate +predicament, financially ruined by the failure of all his enterprises, +and discredited with the government, from which he vainly sought some +reparation for the violence done to his journal; worst of all, he +found himself without honor at home, where he was looked upon as a +ne'er-do-well and a disgrace to the reputation of a fine old military +family. As a last resort he applied for reinstatement in the army, it +being a time when Prussia seemed to be girding herself for another +struggle with Napoleon. But the attempt to borrow enough money for his +military equipment failed, and he found no sympathy or support on a +final visit to his family in Frankfort. In October, 1811, the +patriotic men who had been quietly preparing for the inevitable war of +liberation were horrified by the movement of the Prussian government +toward another alliance with Napoleon; and Kleist felt it impossible +to enter an army that might at any moment be ordered to support the +arch-enemy of his country. His case had become utterly hopeless. + +At this juncture the unfortunate poet found what he had so often +sought in his crises of despair--a companion in suicide. Through Adam +Müller he had become acquainted with Henrietta Vogel, an intelligent +woman of romantic temperament, who was doomed by an incurable disease +to a life of suffering. She listened eagerly to Kleist's suggestions +of an escape together from the intolerable ills of life. The two drove +from Berlin to a solitary inn on the shore of the Wannsee, near +Potsdam; here Kleist wrote a touching farewell letter to his sister, +and, on the afternoon of November 21, 1811, after the most deliberate +preparations, the companions strolled into the silent pine woods, +where Kleist took Henrietta's life and then his own. In the same +lonely place his grave was dug, and here the greatest Prussian poet +lay forgotten, after the brief, though violent, sensation of his +tragic end; half a century elapsed before a Prussian prince set up a +simple granite monument to mark the grave. Ten years passed after +Kleist's death before his last great dramas, _Arminius_ and the +_Prince of Homburg_, were published, edited by the eminent poet and +critic Ludwig Tieck, who also brought out, in 1826, the first +collection of Kleist's works. Long before this time, the patriotic +uprising for which he had labored with desperate zeal in his later +works, had brought liberation to Germany; it was on the thirty-sixth +anniversary of Kleist's birth that Napoleon's power was shaken by the +decisive Battle of Leipzig. + +Heinrich von Kleist was born into a generation that was dominated by +the spirit of Romanticism. Tieck and the Schlegels were a few years +older, Fouqué was of the same age as he, and Arnim and Brentano +somewhat younger. His acquaintance was largely with the authors who +represented this tendency. In his own works, however, Kleist was +singularly independent of the romantic influence. This is the more +remarkable inasmuch as his character had many traits in common with +the ardent spirits of the Romantic group. His uncompromising +individualism and overweening ambition, his love of travel, his +enthusiastic acceptance of Rousseau's gospel of Nature, are +characteristically Romantic, and so, we may say, is his passionate +patriotism. Eccentricities he had in plenty; there was something +morbid in his excessive reserve, his exaggerated secretiveness about +the most important interests of his life, as there surely was in his +moroseness, which deepened at times into black despair. Goethe was +most unpleasantly impressed by this abnormal quality of Kleist's +personality, and said of the younger poet: "In spite of my honest +desire to sympathize with him, I could not avoid a feeling of horror +and loathing, as of a body beautifully endowed by nature, but infected +with an incurable disease." That this judgment was unduly harsh is +evident enough from the confidence and affection that Kleist inspired +in many of the best men of his time. + +Whatever may have been Kleist's personal peculiarities, his works give +evidence of the finest artistic sanity and conscience. His acute sense +of literary form sets him off from the whole generation of +Romanticists, who held the author's personal caprice to be the supreme +law of poetry, and most of whose important works were either medleys +or fragments. He was his own severest critic, and labored over his +productions, as he did over his own education, with untiring energy +and intense concentration. A less scrupulous author would not have +destroyed the manuscript of _Robert Guiscard_ because he could not +keep throughout its action the splendid promise of the first act. His +works are usually marked by rare logical and artistic consistency. +Seldom is there any interruption of the unity and simple directness of +his actions by sub-plots or episodes, and he scorned the easy +theatrical devices by which the successful playwrights of his day +gained their effects. Whether in drama or story, his action grows +naturally out of the characters and the situations. Hence the +marvelous fact that his dramas can be performed with hardly an +alteration, though the author, never having seen any of them on the +stage, lacked the practical experience by which most dramatists learn +the technique of their art. + +Kleist evidently studied the models of classical art with care. His +unerring sense of form, his artistic restraint in a day when caprice +was the ruling fashion, and the conciseness of his expression, are +doubtless due to classical influence. But, at the same time, he was an +innovator, one of the first forerunners of modern realism. He +describes and characterizes with careful, often microscopic detail; +his psychological analysis is remarkably exact and incisive; and he +fearlessly uses the ugly or the trivial when either better serves his +purpose. + +In all the varied volume of Kleist's works, there is very little that +is mediocre or negligible. The _Schroffenstein Family_, to be sure, is +prentice work, but it can bear comparison with the first plays of the +greatest dramatists. The fragment of _Robert Guiscard_ is masterly in +its rapid cumulative exposition, representing the hero, idolized by +his troops, as stricken with the plague when the crowning glory of his +military career seems to be within his grasp; while the discord +between Guiscard's son and nephew presages an irrepressible family +conflict. The style, as Wieland felt when he listened with rapture to +the author's recital, is a blend of classical and Elizabethan art. The +opening chorus of the people, the formal balanced speeches, the +analytical action, beginning on the verge of the catastrophe, are +traits borrowed from Greek tragedy. On the other hand, there is much +realistic characterization and a Shakespearian variety and freedom of +tone. _The Broken Jug_, too, is analytical in its conduct. Almost from +the first it is evident that Adam, the village judge, is himself the +culprit in the case at trial in his court, and the comic efforts of +the arch-rascal to squirm out of the inevitable discovery only serve +to make his guilt the surer. In this comedy the blank verse adapts +itself to all the turns of familiar humorous dialogue, and the effect +of the Dutch genre-paintings of Teniers or Jan Steen is admirably +reproduced in dramatic form. The slowly moving action, constantly +reverting to past incidents, makes a successful performance difficult; +the fate of this work on the stage has depended upon finding an actor +capable of bringing out all the possibilities in the part of Adam, who +is a masterpiece of comic self-characterization. + +_Penthesilea_ is a work apart. Passionate, headlong, almost savage, is +the character of the queen of the Amazons, yet wonderfully sweet in +its gentler moods and glorified with the golden glow of high poetry. +Nothing could be further removed from the pseudo-classical manner of +the eighteenth century than this modern and individual interpretation +of the old mythical story of Penthesilea and Achilles, between whom +love breaks forth in the midst of mortal combat. The clash of passions +creates scenes in this drama that transcend the humanly and +dramatically permissible. Yet there is a wealth of imaginative beauty +and emotional melody in this tragedy beyond anything in Kleist's other +works. It was written with his heart's blood; in it he uttered all the +yearning and frenzy of his first passion for the unattainable and +ruined masterpiece _Guiscard_. + +_Kitty of Heilbronn_ stands almost at the opposite pole from +_Penthesilea_. The pathos of Griselda's unquestioning self-abnegation +is her portion; she is the extreme expression of the docile quality +that Kleist sought in his betrothed. Instead of the fabled scenes of +Homeric combat, we have here as a setting the richly romantic and +colorful life of the age of chivalry. The form, too, is far freer and +more expansive, with an unconventional mingling of verse and prose. + +The last two plays were born of the spirit that brought forth the War +of Liberation. In them Kleist gave undying expression to his ardent +patriotism; it was his deepest grief that these martial dramas were +not permitted to sound their trumpet-call to a humbled nation yearning +to be free. _Arminius_ is a great dramatized philippic. The ancient +Germanic chiefs Marbod and Arminius, representing in Kleist's +intention the Austria and Prussia of his day, are animated by one +common patriotic impulse, rising far above their mutual rivalries, to +cast off the hateful and oppressive yoke of Rome; and after the +decisive victory over Varus in the Teutoburg Forest, each of these +strong chiefs is ready in devoted self-denial to yield the primacy to +the other, in order that all Germans may stand together against the +common foe. _Prince Frederick of Homburg_ is a dramatic glorification +of the Prussian virtues of discipline and obedience. But the finely +drawn characters of this play are by no means rigid martinets. They +are largely, frankly, generously human, confessing the right of +feeling as well as reason to direct the will. Never has there been a +more sympathetic literary exposition of the soldierly character than +this last tribute of a devoted patriot to his beloved Brandenburg. + +The narrative works of Kleist maintain the same high level as his +dramas. _Michael Kohlhaas_ is a good example of this excellent +narrative art, for which Kleist found no models in German literature. +Unity is a striking characteristic; the action can usually be summed +up in a few words, such as the formula for this story, given expressly +on its first page: "His sense of justice made him a robber and a +murderer." There is no leisurely exposition of time, place, or +situation; all the necessary elements are given concisely in the first +sentences. The action develops logically, with effective use of +retardation and climax, but without disturbing episodes; and the +reader is never permitted to forget the central theme. The descriptive +element is realistic, with only pertinent details swiftly presented, +often in parentheses, while the action moves on. The characterization +is skilfully indirect, through unconscious action and speech. The +author does not shun the trivial or even the repulsive in detail, nor +does he fear the most tragic catastrophes. He is scrupulously +objective, and, in an age of expansive lyric expression, he is most +chary of comment. The sentence structure, as in the dramas, is often +intricate, but never lax. The whole work in all its parts is firmly +and finely forged by a master workman. + +Kleist has remained a solitary figure in German literature. Owing +little to the dominant literary influences of his day, he has also +found few imitators. Two generations passed before he began to come +into his heritage of legitimate fame. Now that a full century has +elapsed since his tragic death, his place is well assured among the +greatest dramatic and narrative authors of Germany. A brave man +struggling desperately against hopeless odds, a patriot expending his +genius with lavish unselfishness for the service of his country in her +darkest days, he has been found worthy by posterity to stand as the +most famous son of a faithful Prussian family of soldiers. + + + + +MICHAEL KOHLHAAS (1808) + +A Tale from an Old Chronicle + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES A. KING + + +Toward the middle of the sixteenth century there lived on the banks of +the river Havel a horse-dealer by the name of Michael Kohlhaas, the +son of a school-master, one of the most upright and, at the same time, +one of the most terrible men of his day. Up to his thirtieth year this +extraordinary man would have been considered the model of a good +citizen. In a village which still bears his name, he owned a farmstead +on which he quietly supported himself by plying his trade. The +children with whom his wife presented him were brought up in the fear +of God, and taught to be industrious and honest; nor was there one +among his neighbors who had not enjoyed the benefit of his kindness or +his justice. In short, the world would have had every reason to bless +his memory if he had not carried to excess one virtue--his sense of +justice, which made of him a robber and a murderer. + +He rode abroad once with a string of young horses, all well fed and +glossy-coated, and was turning over in his mind how he would employ +the profit that he hoped to make from them at the fairs; part of it, +as is the way with good managers, he would use to gain future profits, +but he would also spend part of it in the enjoyment of the present. +While thus engaged he reached the Elbe, and near a stately castle, +situated on Saxon territory, he came upon a toll-bar which he had +never found on this road before. Just in the midst of a heavy shower +he halted with his horses and called to the toll-gate keeper, who +soon after showed his surly face at the window. The horse-dealer told +him to open the gate. "What new arrangement is this?" he asked, when +the toll-gatherer, after some time, finally came out of the house. + +"Seignorial privilege" answered the latter, unlocking the gate, +"conferred by the sovereign upon Squire Wenzel Tronka." + +"Is that so?" queried Kohlhaas; "the Squire's name is now Wenzel?" and +gazed at the castle, the glittering battlements of which looked out +over the field. "Is the old gentleman dead?" + +"Died of apoplexy," answered the gate keeper, as he raised the +toll-bar. + +"Hum! Too bad!" rejoined Kohlhaas. "An estimable old gentleman he was, +who liked to watch people come and go, and helped along trade and +traffic wherever he could. He once had a causeway built because a mare +of mine had broken her leg out there on the road leading to the +village. Well, how much is it?" he asked, and with some trouble got +out the few groschen demanded by the gate keeper from under his cloak, +which was fluttering in the wind. "Yes, old man," he added, picking up +the leading reins as the latter muttered "Quick, quick!" and cursed +the weather; "if this tree had remained standing in the forest it +would have been better for me and for you." With this he gave him the +money, and started to ride on. + +He had hardly passed under the toll-bar, however, when a new voice +cried out from the tower behind him, "Stop there, horse-dealer!" and +he saw the castellan close a window and come hurrying down to him. +"Well, I wonder what he wants!" Kohlhaas asked himself, and halted +with his horses. Buttoning another waistcoat over his ample body, the +castellan came up to him and, standing with his back to the storm, +demanded his passport. + +"My passport?" queried Kohlhaas. Somewhat disconcerted, he replied +that he had none, so far as he knew, but that, if some one would just +describe to him what in the name of goodness this was, perhaps he +might accidentally happen to have one about him. The castellan, eying +him askance, retorted that without an official permit no horse-dealer +was allowed to cross the border with horses. The horse-dealer assured +him that seventeen times in his life he had crossed the border without +such a permit; that he was well acquainted with all the official +regulations which applied to his trade; that this would probably prove +to be only a mistake; the castellan would please consider the matter +and, since he had a long day's journey before him, not detain him here +unnecessarily any longer. But the castellan answered that he was not +going to slip through the eighteenth time, that the ordinance +concerning this matter had been only recently issued, and that he must +either procure the passport here or go back to the place from which he +had come. After a moment's reflection, the horse-dealer, who was +beginning to feel bitter, got down from his horse, turned it over to a +groom, and said that he would speak to Squire Tronka himself on the +subject. He really did walk toward the castle; the castellan followed +him, muttering something about niggardly money-grubbers, and what a +good thing it was to bleed them; and, measuring each other with their +glances, the two entered the castle-hall. + +It happened that the Squire was sitting over his wine with some merry +friends, and a joke had caused them all to break into uproarious +laughter just as Kohlhaas approached him to make his complaint. The +Squire asked what he wanted; the young nobles, at sight of the +stranger, became silent; but no sooner had the latter broached his +request concerning the horses, than the whole group cried out, +"Horses! Where are they?" and hurried over to the window to look at +them. When they saw the glossy string, they all followed the +suggestion of the Squire and flew down into the courtyard. The rain +had ceased; the castellan, the steward, and the servant gathered round +them and all scanned the horses. One praised a bright bay with a +white star on its forehead, another preferred a chestnut, a third +patted the dappled horse with tawny spots; and all were of the opinion +that the horses were like deer, and that no finer were raised in the +country. Kohlhaas answered cheerily that the horses were no better +than the knights who were to ride them, and invited the men to buy. +The Squire, who eagerly desired the big bay stallion, went so far as +to ask its price, and the steward urged him to buy a pair of black +horses, which he thought he could use on the farm, as they were short +of horses. But when the horse-dealer had named his price the young +knights thought it too high, and the Squire said that Kohlhaas would +have to ride in search of the Round Table and King Arthur if he put +such a high value on his horses. Kohlhaas noticed that the castellan +and the steward were whispering together and casting significant +glances at the black horses the while, and, moved by a vague +presentiment, made every effort to sell them the horses. He said to +the Squire, "Sir, I bought those black horses six months ago for +twenty-five gold gulden; give me thirty and you shall have them." Two +of the young noblemen who were standing beside the Squire declared +quite audibly that the horses were probably worth that much; but the +Squire said that while he might be willing to pay out money for the +bay stallion he really should hardly care to do so for the pair of +blacks, and prepared to go in. Whereupon Kohlhaas, saying that the +next time he came that way with his horses they might perhaps strike a +bargain, took leave of the Squire and, seizing the reins of his horse, +started to ride away. + +At this moment the castellan stepped forth from the crowd and reminded +him that he would not be allowed to leave without a passport. Kohlhaas +turned around and inquired of the Squire whether this statement, which +meant the ruin of his whole trade, were indeed correct. The Squire, as +he went off, answered with an embarrassed air, "Yes, Kohlhaas, you +must get a passport. Speak to the castellan about it, and go your +way." Kohlhaas assured him that he had not the least intention of +evading the ordinances which might be in force concerning the +exportation of horses. He promised that when he went through Dresden +he would take out the passport at the chancery, and begged to be +allowed to go on, this time, as he had known nothing whatever about +this requirement. "Well!" said the Squire, as the storm at that moment +began to rage again and the wind blustered about his scrawny legs; +"let the wretch go. Come!" he added to the young knights, and, turning +around, started toward the door. The castellan, facing about toward +the Squire, said that Kohlhaas must at least leave behind some pledge +as security that he would obtain the passport. The Squire stopped +again under the castle gate. Kohlhaas asked how much security for the +black horses in money or in articles of value he would be expected to +leave. The steward muttered in his beard that he might just as well +leave the blacks themselves. + +"To be sure," said the castellan; "that is the best plan; as soon as +he has taken out the passport he can come and get them again at any +time." Kohlhaas, amazed at such a shameless demand, told the Squire, +who was holding the skirts of his doublet about him for warmth, that +what he wanted to do was to sell the blacks; but as a gust of wind +just then blew a torrent of rain and hail through the gate, the +Squire, in order to put an end to the matter, called out, "If he won't +give up the horses, throw him back again over the toll-bar;" and with +that he went off. + +The horse-dealer, who saw clearly that on this occasion he would have +to yield to superior force, made up his mind to comply with the +demand, since there really was no other way out of it. He unhitched +the black horses and led them into a stable which the castellan +pointed out to him. He left a groom in charge of them, provided him +with money, warned him to take good care of the horses until he came +back, and with the rest of the string continued his journey to +Leipzig, where he purposed to go to the fair. As he rode along he +wondered, in half uncertainty, whether after all such a law might not +have been passed in Saxony for the protection of the newly started +industry of horse-raising. + +On his arrival in Dresden, where, in one of the suburbs of the city, +he owned a house and stable--this being the headquarters from which he +usually conducted his business at the smaller fairs around the +country--he went immediately to the chancery. And here he learned from +the councilors, some of whom he knew, that indeed, as his first +instinct had already told him, the story of the passport was only made +up. At Kohlhaas's request, the annoyed councilors gave him a written +certificate of its baselessness, and the horse-dealer smiled at the +lean Squire's joke, although he did not quite see what purpose he +could have had in view. A few weeks later, having sold to his +satisfaction the string of horses he had with him, Kohlhaas returned +to Tronka Castle harboring no other resentment save that caused by the +general misery of the world. + +The castellan, to whom he showed the certificate, made no comment upon +it, and to the horse-dealer's question as to whether he could now have +his horses back, replied that he need only go down to the stable and +get them. But even while crossing the courtyard, Kohlhaas learned with +dismay that for alleged insolence his groom had been cudgeled and +dismissed in disgrace a few days after being left behind at Tronka +Castle. Of the boy who informed him of this he inquired what in the +world the groom had done, and who had taken care of the horses in the +mean time; to this the boy answered that he did not know, and then +opened to the horse-dealer, whose heart was already full of +misgivings, the door of the stable in which the horses stood. How +great, though, was his astonishment when, instead of his two glossy, +well-fed blacks, he spied a pair of lean, worn-out jades, with bones +on which one could have hung things as if on pegs, and with mane and +hair matted together from lack of care and attention--in short, the +very picture of utter misery in the animal kingdom! Kohlhaas, at the +sight of whom the horses neighed and moved feebly, was extremely +indignant, and asked what had happened to his horses. The boy, who was +standing beside him, answered that they had not suffered any harm, and +that they had had proper feed too, but, as it had been harvest time, +they had been used a bit in the fields because there weren't draught +animals enough. Kohlhaas cursed over the shameful, preconcerted +outrage; but realizing that he was powerless he suppressed his rage, +and, as no other course lay open to him, was preparing to leave this +den of thieves again with his horses when the castellan, attracted by +the altercation, appeared and asked what was the matter. + +"What's the matter?" echoed Kohlhaas. "Who gave Squire Tronka and his +people permission to use for work in the fields the black horses that +I left behind with him?" He added, "Do you call that humane?" and +trying to rouse the exhausted nags with a switch, he showed him that +they did not move. The castellan, after he had watched him for a while +with an expression of defiance, broke out, "Look at the ruffian! Ought +not the churl to thank God that the jades are still alive?" He asked +who would have been expected to take care of them when the groom had +run away, and whether it were not just that the horses should have +worked in the fields for their feed. He concluded by saying that +Kohlhaas had better not make a rumpus or he would call the dogs and +with them would manage to restore order in the courtyard. + +The horse-dealer's heart thumped against his doublet. He felt a strong +desire to throw the good-for-nothing, pot-bellied scoundrel into the +mud and set his foot on his copper-colored face. But his sense of +justice, which was as delicate as a gold-balance, still wavered; he +was not yet quite sure before the bar of his own conscience whether +his adversary were really guilty of a crime. And so, swallowing the +abusive words and going over to the horses, he silently pondered the +circumstances while arranging their manes, and asked in a subdued +voice for what fault the groom had been turned out of the castle. The +castellan replied, "Because the rascal was insolent in the courtyard; +because he opposed a necessary change of stables and demanded that the +horses of two young noblemen, who came to the castle, should, for the +sake of his nags, be left out on the open high-road over night." + +Kohlhaas would have given the value of the horses if he could have had +the groom at hand to compare his statement with that of this +thick-lipped castellan. He was still standing, straightening the +tangled manes of the black horses, and wondering what could be done in +the situation in which he found himself, when suddenly the scene +changed, and Squire Wenzel Tronka, returning from hare-hunting, dashed +into the courtyard, followed by a swarm of knights, grooms, and dogs. +The castellan, when asked what had happened, immediately began to +speak, and while, on the one hand, the dogs set up a murderous howl at +the sight of the stranger, and, on the other, the knights sought to +quiet them, he gave the Squire a maliciously garbled account of the +turmoil the horse-dealer was making because his black horses had been +used a little. He said, with a scornful laugh, that the horse-dealer +refused to recognize the horses as his own. + +Kohlhaas cried, "Your worship, those are not my horses. Those are not +the horses which were worth thirty gold gulden! I want my well-fed, +sound horses back again!" + +The Squire, whose face grew momentarily pale, got down from his horse +and said, "If the d----d scoundrel doesn't want to take the horses +back, let him leave them here. Come, Gunther!" he called; "Hans, +come!" He brushed the dust off his breeches with his hand and, just as +he reached the door with the young knights, called "Bring wine!" and +strode into the house. + +Kohlhaas said that he would rather call the knacker and have his +horses thrown into the carrion pit than lead them back, in that +condition, to his stable at Kohlhaasenbrück. Without bothering himself +further about the nags, he left them standing where they were, and, +declaring that he should know how to get his rights, mounted his bay +horse and rode away. + +He was already galloping at full speed on the road to Dresden when, at +the thought of the groom and of the complaint which had been made +against him at the castle, he slowed down to a walk, and, before he +had gone a thousand paces farther, turned his horse around again and +took the road toward Kohlhaasenbrück, in order, as seemed to him wise +and just, to hear first what the groom had to say. For in spite of the +injuries he had suffered, a correct instinct, already familiar with +the imperfect organization of the world, inclined him to put up with +the loss of the horses and to regard it as a just consequence of the +groom's misconduct in case there really could be imputed to the latter +any such fault as the castellan charged. On the other hand, an equally +admirable feeling took deeper and deeper root the farther he rode, +hearing at every stop of the outrages perpetrated daily upon travelers +at Tronka Castle; this instinct told him that if, as seemed probable, +the whole incident proved to be a preconcerted plot, it was his duty +to the world to make every effort to obtain for himself satisfaction +for the injury suffered, and for his fellow-countrymen a guarantee +against similar injuries in the future. + +On his arrival at Kohlhaasenbrück, as soon as he had embraced his +faithful wife Lisbeth and had kissed his children, who were shouting +joyfully about his knees, he asked at once after Herse, the head +groom, and whether anything had been heard from him. Lisbeth answered, +"Oh yes, dearest Michael--that Herse! Just think! The poor fellow +arrived here about a fortnight ago, most pitifully bruised and beaten; +really, he was so battered that he couldn't even breathe freely. We +put him to bed, where he kept coughing up blood, and after repeated +questions we heard a story that no one could understand. He told us +that you had left him at Tronka Castle in charge of some horses which +they would not allow to pass through there, that by the most shameful +maltreatment he had been forced to leave the castle, and that it had +been impossible for him to bring the horses with him." + +"Really!" exclaimed Kohlhaas, taking off his cloak. "I suppose he has +recovered before this?" + +"Pretty well, except that he still coughs blood," she answered. "I +wanted to send another groom at once to Tronka Castle so as to have +the horses taken care of until you got back there; for as Herse has +always shown himself truthful and, indeed, more faithful to us than +any other has ever been, I felt I had no right to doubt his statement, +especially when confirmed by so many bruises, or to think that perhaps +he had lost the horses in some other way. He implored me, however, not +to require any one to go to that robber's nest, but to give the +animals up if I didn't wish to sacrifice a man's life for them." + +"And is he still abed?" asked Kohlhaas, taking off his neckcloth. + +"He's been going about in the yard again for several days now," she +answered. "In short, you will see for yourself," she continued, "that +it's all quite true and that this incident is merely another one of +those outrages that have been committed of late against strangers at +Tronka Castle." + +"I must first investigate that," answered Kohlhaas. "Call him in here, +Lisbeth, if he is up and about." With these words he sat down in the +arm-chair and his wife, delighted at his calmness, went and fetched +the groom. + +"What did you do at Tronka Castle," asked Kohlhaas, as Lisbeth entered +the room with him. "I am not very well pleased with you." + +On the groom's pale face spots of red appeared at these words. He was +silent for a while--then he answered, "You are right there, Sir; for a +sulphur cord, which by the will of Providence I was carrying in my +pocket so as to set fire to the robber's nest from which I had been +driven, I threw into the Elbe when I heard a child crying inside the +castle, and I thought to myself, 'Let God's lightning burn it down; I +will not!'" + +Kohlhaas was disconcerted. "But for what cause were you driven from +the castle?" he asked. + +To this Herse answered, "Something very wrong, Sir," and wiped the +perspiration from his forehead. "What is done, however, can't be +undone. I wouldn't let the horses be worked to death in the fields, +and so I said that they were still young and had never been in +harness." + +Kohlhaas, trying to hide his perplexity, answered that he had not told +the exact truth, as the horses had been in harness for a little while +in the early part of the previous spring. "As you were a sort of guest +at the castle," he continued, "you really might have been obliging +once or twice whenever they happened not to have horses enough to get +the crops in as fast as they wished." + +"I did so, Sir," said Herse. "I thought, as long as they looked so +sulky about it, that it wouldn't hurt the blacks for once, and so on +the third afternoon I hitched them in front of the others and brought +in three wagon-loads of grain from the fields." + +Kohlhaas, whose heart was thumping, looked down at the ground and +said, "They told me nothing about that, Herse!" + +Herse assured him that it was so. "I wasn't disobliging save in my +refusal to harness up the horses again when they had hardly eaten +their fill at midday; then too, when the castellan and the steward +offered to give me free fodder if I would do it, telling me to pocket +the money that you had left with me to pay for feed, I answered that I +would do something they didn't bargain for, turned around, and left +them!" + +"But surely it was not for that disobliging act that you were driven +away from the castle," said Kohlhaas. + +"Mercy, no!" cried the groom. "It was because of a very wicked crime! +For the horses of two knights who came to the castle were put into +the stable for the night and mine were tied to the stable door. And +when I took the blacks from the castellan, who was putting the +knights' horses into my stable, and asked where my animals were to go, +he showed me a pigsty built of laths and boards against the castle +wall." + +"You mean," interrupted Kohlhaas, "that it was such a poor shelter for +horses that it was more like a pigsty than a stable?" + +"It was a pigsty, Sir," answered Herse; "really and truly a pigsty, +with the pigs running in and out; I couldn't stand upright in it." + +"Perhaps there was no other shelter to be found for the blacks," +Kohlhaas rejoined; "and of course, in a way, the knights' horses had +the right to better quarters." + +"There wasn't much room," answered the groom, dropping his voice. +"Counting these two, there were, in all, seven knights lodging at the +castle. If it had been you, you would have had the horses moved closer +together. I said I would try to rent a stable in the village, but the +castellan objected that he had to keep the horses under his own eyes +and told me not to dare to take them away from the courtyard." + +"Hum!" said Kohlhaas. "What did you say to that?" + +"As the steward said the two guests were only going to spend the night +and continue on their way the next morning, I led the two horses into +the pigsty. But the following day passed and they did not go, and on +the third it was said the gentlemen were going to stay some weeks +longer at the castle." + +"After all, it was not so bad, Herse, in the pigsty, as it seemed to +you when you first stuck your nose into it," said Kohlhaas. + +"That's true," answered the groom. "After I had swept the place out a +little, it wasn't so bad! I gave a groschen to the maid to have her +put the pigs somewhere else; and by taking the boards from the +roof-bars at dawn and laying them on again at night, I managed to +arrange it so that the horses could stand upright in the daytime. So +there they stood like geese in a coop, and stuck their heads through +the roof, looking around for Kohlhaasenbrück or some other place where +they would be better off." + +"Well then," said Kohlhaas, "why in the world did they drive you +away?" + +"Sir, I'll tell you," answered the groom, "it was because they wanted +to get rid of me, since, as long as I was there, they could not work +the horses to death. Everywhere, in the yard, in the servants' hall, +they made faces at me, and because I thought to myself, 'You can draw +your jaws down until you dislocate them, for all I care,' they picked +a quarrel and threw me out of the courtyard." + +"But what provoked them?" cried Kohlhaas; "they must have had some +sort of provocation!" + +"Oh, to be sure," answered Herse; "the best imaginable! On the evening +of the second day spent in the pigsty, I took the horses, which had +become dirty in spite of my efforts, and started to ride them down to +the horse-pond. When I reached the castle-gate and was just about to +turn, I heard the castellan and the steward, with servants, dogs and +cudgels, rushing out of the servants' hall after me and calling, 'Stop +thief! Stop gallows-bird!' as if they were possessed. The gate-keeper +stepped in front of me, and when I asked him and the raving crowd that +was running at me, 'What in the world is the matter?'--'What's the +matter!' answered the castellan, seizing my two black horses by the +bridle. 'Where are you going with the horses?' he asked, and seized me +by the chest. 'Where am I going?' I repeated. 'Thunder and lightning! +I am riding down to the horse-pond. Do you think that I--?'--'To the +horse-pond!' cried the castellan. 'I'll teach you, you swindler, to +swim along the highroad back to Kohlhaasenbrück!' And with a spiteful, +vicious jerk he and the steward, who had caught me by the leg, hurled +me down from the horse so that I measured my full length in the mud. +'Murder! Help!' I cried; 'breast straps and blankets and a bundle of +linen belonging to me are in the stable.' But while the steward led +the horses away, the castellan and servants fell upon me with their +feet and whips and cudgels, so that I sank down behind the castle-gate +half dead. And when I cried, 'The thieves! Where are they taking my +horses?' and got to my feet--'Out of the courtyard with you!' screamed +the castellan, 'Sick him, Caesar! Sick him, Hunter!' and, 'Sick him, +Spitz!' he called, and a pack of more than twelve dogs rushed at me. +Then I tore something from the fence, possibly a picket, and stretched +out three dogs dead beside me! But when I had to give way because I +was suffering from fearful wounds and bites, I heard a shrill whistle; +the dogs scurried into the yard, the gates were swung shut and the +bolt shot into position, and I sank down on the highroad unconscious." + +Kohlhaas, white in the face, said with forced jocularity, "Didn't you +really want to escape, Herse?" And as the latter, with a deep blush, +looked down at the ground--"Confess to me!" said he; "You didn't like +it in the pigsty; you thought to yourself, you would rather be in the +stable at Kohlhaasenbrück, after all!" + +"Od's thunder!" cried Herse; "breast strap and blankets I tell you, +and a bundle of linen I left behind in the pigsty. Wouldn't I have +taken along three gold gulden that I had wrapped in a red silk +neckcloth and hidden away behind the manger? Blazes, hell, and the +devil! When you talk like that, I'd like to relight at once the +sulphur cord I threw away!" + +"There, there!" said the horse-dealer, "I really meant no harm. What +you have said--see here, I believe it word for word, and when the +matter comes up, I am ready to take the Holy Communion myself as to +its truth. I am sorry that you have not fared better in my service. +Go, Herse, go back to bed. Have them bring you a bottle of wine and +make yourself comfortable; you shall have justice done you!" With +that he stood up, made out a list of the things which the head groom +had left behind in the pigsty, jotted down the value of each, asked +him how high he estimated the cost of his medical treatment, and sent +him from the room after shaking hands with him once more. + +Thereupon he recounted to Lisbeth, his wife, the whole course of the +affair, explained the true relation of events, and declared to her +that he was determined to demand public justice for himself. He had +the satisfaction of finding that she heartily approved his purpose, +for, she said, many other travelers, perhaps less patient than he, +would pass by the castle, and it was doing God's work to put a stop to +disorders such as these. She added that she would manage to get +together the money to pay the expenses of the lawsuit. Kohlhaas called +her his brave wife, spent that day and the next very happily with her +and the children, and, as soon as his business would at all permit it, +set out for Dresden in order to lay his suit before the court. + +Here, with the help of a lawyer whom he knew, he drew up a complaint, +in which, after giving a detailed account of the outrage which Squire +Wenzel Tronka had committed against him and against his groom Herse, +he petitioned for the lawful punishment of the former, restoration of +the horses to their original condition, and compensation for the +damages which he and his groom had sustained. His case was indeed +perfectly clear. The fact that the horses had been detained contrary +to law threw a decisive light on everything else; and even had one +been willing to assume that they had sickened by sheer accident, the +demand of the horse-dealer to have them returned to him in sound +condition would still have been just. While looking about him in the +capital, Kohlhaas had no lack of friends, either, who promised to give +his case lively support. His extensive trade in horses had secured him +the acquaintance of the most important men of the country, and the +honesty with which he conducted his business had won him their good +will. + +Kohlhaas dined cheerfully several times with his lawyer, who was +himself a man of consequence, left a sum of money with him to defray +the costs of the lawsuit and, fully reassured by the latter as to the +outcome of the case, returned, after the lapse of some weeks, to his +wife Lisbeth in Kohlhaasenbrück. + +Nevertheless months passed, and the year was nearing its close before +he received even a statement from Saxony concerning the suit which he +had instituted there, let alone the final decree itself. After he had +applied several times more to the court, he sent a confidential letter +to his lawyer asking what was the cause of such undue delay. He was +told in reply that the suit had been dismissed in the Dresden courts +at the instance of an influential person. To the astonished reply of +the horse-dealer asking what was the reason of this, the lawyer +informed him that Squire Wenzel Tronka was related to two young +noblemen, Hinz and Kunz Tronka, one of whom was Cup-bearer to the +person of the sovereign, and the other actually Chamberlain. He also +advised Kohlhaas not to make any further appeal to the court of law, +but to try to regain possession of his horses which were still at +Tronka Castle, giving him to understand that the Squire, who was then +stopping in the capital, seemed to have ordered his people to deliver +them to him. He closed with a request to excuse him from executing any +further commissions in the matter, in case Kohlhaas refused to be +content with this. + +At this time Kohlhaas happened to be in Brandenburg, where the City +Governor, Heinrich von Geusau, to whose jurisdiction Kohlhaasenbrück +belonged, was busy establishing several charitable institutions for +the sick and the poor out of a considerable fund which had fallen to +the city. He was especially interested in fitting up, for the benefit +of invalids, a mineral spring which rose in one of the villages in the +vicinity, and which was thought to have greater powers than it +subsequently proved to possess. As Kohlhaas had had numerous dealings +with him at the time of his sojourn at Court and was therefore known +to him, he allowed Herse, the head groom, who, ever since that unlucky +day in Tronka Castle, had suffered pains in the chest when he +breathed, to try the effect of the little healing spring, which had +been inclosed and roofed over. + +It so happened that the City Governor was just giving some directions, +as he stood beside the depression in which Kohlhaas had placed Herse, +when a messenger, whom the horse-dealer's wife had sent on after him, +put in his hands the disheartening letter from his lawyer in Dresden. +The City Governor, who, while speaking with the doctor, noticed that +Kohlhaas let a tear fall on the letter he had just read, approached +him and, in a friendly, cordial way, asked him what misfortune had +befallen him. The horse-dealer handed him the letter without +answering. The worthy Governor, knowing the abominable injustice done +him at Tronka Castle as a result of which Herse was lying there before +him sick, perhaps never to recover, clapped Kohlhaas on the shoulder +and told him not to lose courage, for he would help him secure +justice. In the evening, when the horse-dealer, acting upon his +orders, came to the palace to see him, Kohlhaas was told that what he +should do was to draw up a petition to the Elector of Brandenburg, +with a short account of the incident, to inclose the lawyer's letter, +and, on account of the violence which had been committed against him +on Saxon territory, solicit the protection of the sovereign. He +promised him to see that the petition would be delivered into the +hands of the Elector together with another packet that was all ready +to be dispatched; if circumstances permitted, the latter would, +without fail, approach the Elector of Saxony on his behalf. Such a +step would be quite sufficient to secure Kohlhaas justice at the hand +of the tribunal at Dresden, in spite of the arts of the Squire and his +partisans. Kohlhaas, much delighted, thanked the Governor very +heartily for this new proof of his good will, and said he was only +sorry that he had not instituted proceedings at once in Berlin without +taking any steps in the matter at Dresden. After he had made out the +complaint in due form at the office of the municipal court and +delivered it to the Governor, he returned to Kohlhaasenbrück, more +encouraged than ever about the outcome of his affair. + +After only a few weeks, however, he was grieved to learn from a +magistrate who had gone to Potsdam on business for the City Governor, +that the Elector had handed the petition over to his Chancellor, Count +Kallheim, and that the latter, instead of taking the course most +likely to produce results and petitioning the Court at Dresden +directly for investigation and punishment of the outrage, had, as a +preliminary, applied to the Squire Tronka for further information. + +The magistrate, who had stopped in his carriage outside of Kohlhaas' +house and seemed to have been instructed to deliver this message to +the horse-dealer, could give the latter no satisfactory answer to his +perplexed question as to why this step had been taken. He was +apparently in a hurry to continue his journey, and merely added that +the Governor sent Kohhlhaas word to be patient. Not until the very end +of the short interview did the horse-dealer divine from some casual +words he let fall, that Count Kallheim was related by marriage to the +house of Tronka. + +Kohlhaas, who no longer took any pleasure either in his +horse-breeding, or his house or his farm, scarcely even in his wife +and children, waited all the next month, full of gloomy forebodings as +to the future. And, just as he had expected at the expiration of this +time, Herse, somewhat benefited by the baths, came back from +Brandenburg bringing a rather lengthy decree and a letter from the +City Governor. The latter ran as follows: He was sorry that he could +do nothing in Kohlhaas' behalf; he was sending him a decision from the +Chancery of State and he advised him to fetch away the horses that he +had left behind at the Tronka Castle, and then to let the matter drop. + +The decree read as follows: "According to the report of the tribunal +at Dresden, he was a good-for-nothing, quarrelsome person; the Squire +with whom he had left the horses was not keeping them from him in any +way; let him send to the castle and take them away, or at least inform +the Squire where to send them to him; in any case he should not +trouble the Chancery of the State with such petty quarrels and +mischief-making." + +Kohlhaas, who was not concerned about the horses themselves--he would +have felt just as much pain if it had been a question of a couple of +dogs--Kohlhaas foamed with rage when he received this letter. As often +as he heard a noise in the courtyard he looked toward the gateway with +the most revolting feelings of anticipation that had ever agitated his +breast, to see whether the servants of the Squire had come to restore +to him, perhaps even with an apology, the starved and worn-out horses. +This was the only situation which he felt that his soul, well +disciplined though it had been by the world, was not prepared to meet. + +A short time after, however, he heard from an acquaintance who had +traveled that road, that at Tronka Castle his horses were still being +used for work in the fields exactly like the Squire's other horses. +Through the midst of the pain caused by beholding the world in a state +of such monstrous disorder, shot the inward satisfaction of knowing +that from henceforth he would be at peace with himself. + +He invited a bailiff, who was his neighbor, to come to see him. The +latter had long cherished the idea of enlarging his estate by +purchasing the property which adjoined it. When he had seated himself +Kohlhaas asked him how much he would give for his possessions on +Brandenburg and Saxon territory, for house and farm, in a lump, +immovable or not. + +Lisbeth, his wife, grew pale when she heard his words. She turned +around and picked up her youngest child who was playing on the floor +behind her. While the child pulled at her kerchief, she darted glances +of mortal terror past the little one's red cheeks, at the +horse-dealer, and at a paper which he held in his hand. + +The bailiff stared at his neighbor in astonishment and asked him what +had suddenly given him such strange ideas; to which the horse-dealer, +with as much gaiety as he could muster, replied that the idea of +selling his farm on the banks of the Havel was not an entirely new +one, but that they had often before discussed the subject together. As +for his house in the outskirts of Dresden--in comparison with the farm +it was only a tag end and need not be taken into consideration. In +short, if the bailiff would do as he wished and take over both pieces +of property, he was ready to close the contract with him. He added +with rather forced pleasantry that Kohlhaasenbrück was not the world; +that there might be objects in life compared with which that of taking +care of his home and family as a father is supposed to would be a +secondary and unworthy one. In a word, he must tell him that his soul +was intent upon accomplishing great things, of which, perhaps, he +would hear shortly. The bailiff, reassured by these words, said +jokingly to Kohlhaas' wife, who was kissing her child repeatedly, +"Surely he will not insist upon being paid immediately!" Then he laid +his hat and cane, which he had been holding between his knees, on the +table, and taking the paper, which the horse-dealer was holding in his +hand, began to read. Kohlhaas, moving closer to him, explained that it +was a contingent contract to purchase, drawn up by himself, his right +to cancel the contract expiring in four weeks. He showed the bailiff +that nothing was wanting but the signatures, the insertion of the +purchase-price itself, and the amount of the forfeit that he, +Kohlhaas, would agree to pay in case he should withdraw from the +contract within the four weeks' time. Again Kohlhaas gaily urged his +friend to make an offer, assuring him that he would be reasonable and +would make the conditions easy for him. His wife was walking up and +down the room; she breathed so hard that the kerchief, at which the +boy had been pulling, threatened to fall clear off her shoulder. The +bailiff said that he really had no way of judging the value of the +property in Dresden; whereupon Kohlhaas, shoving toward him some +letters which had been exchanged at the time of its purchase, answered +that he estimated it at one hundred gold gulden, although the letters +would show that it had cost him almost half as much again. The bailiff +who, on reading the deed of sale, found that, strangely enough, he too +was guaranteed the privilege of withdrawing from the bargain, had +already half made up his mind; but he said that, of course, he could +make no use of the stud-horses which were in the stables. When +Kohlhaas replied that he wasn't at all inclined to part with the +horses either, and that he also desired to keep for himself some +weapons which were hanging in the armory, the bailiff still continued +to hesitate for some time. At last he repeated an offer that, once +before, when they were out walking together, he had made him, half in +jest and half in earnest--a trifling offer indeed, in comparison with +the value of the property. Kohlhaas pushed the pen and ink over for +him to sign, and when the bailiff, who could not believe his senses, +again inquired if he were really in earnest, and the horse-dealer +asked, a little sensitively, whether he thought that he was only +jesting with him, then took up the pen, though with a very serious +face, and wrote. However, he crossed out the clause concerning the sum +to be forfeited in case the seller should repent of the transaction, +bound himself to a loan of one hundred gold gulden on a mortgage on +the Dresden property, which he absolutely refused to buy outright, and +allowed Kohlhaas full liberty to withdraw from the transaction at any +time within two months. + +The horse-dealer, touched by this conduct, shook his hand with great +cordiality, and after they had furthermore agreed on the principal +conditions, to the effect that a fourth part of the purchase-price +should without fail be paid immediately in cash, and the balance paid +into the Hamburg bank in three months' time, Kohlhaas called for wine +in order to celebrate such a happy conclusion of the bargain. He told +the maid-servant who entered with the bottles, to order Sternbald, +the groom, to saddle the chestnut horse for him, as he had to ride to +the capital, where he had some business to attend to. He gave them to +understand that, in a short time, when he returned, he would talk more +frankly concerning what he must for the present continue to keep to +himself. As he poured out the wine into the glasses, he asked about +the Poles and the Turks who were just then at war, and involved the +bailiff in many political conjectures on the subject; then, after +finally drinking once more to the success of their business, he +allowed the latter to depart. + +When the bailiff had left the room, Lisbeth fell down on her knees +before her husband. "If you have any affection for me," she cried, +"and for the children whom I have borne you; if you have not already, +for what reason I know not, cast us out from your heart, then tell me +what these horrible preparations mean!" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Dearest wife, they mean nothing which need cause +you any alarm, as matters stand at present. I have received a decree +in which I am told that my complaint against the Squire Wenzel Tronka +is a piece of impertinent mischief-making. As there must exist some +misunderstanding in this matter, I have made up my mind to present my +complaint once more, this time in person, to the sovereign himself." + +"But why will you sell your house?" she cried, rising with a look of +despair. + +The horse-dealer, clasping her tenderly to his breast, answered, +"Because, dear Lisbeth, I do not care to remain in a country where +they will not protect me in my rights. If I am to be kicked I would +rather be a dog than a man! I am sure that my wife thinks about this +just as I do." + +"How do you know," she asked wildly, "that they will not protect you +in your rights? If, as is becoming, you approach the Elector humbly +with your petition, how do you know that it will be thrown aside or +answered by a refusal to listen to you?" + +"Very well!" answered Kohlhaas; "if my fears on the subject are +unfounded, my house isn't sold yet, either. The Elector himself is +just, I know, and if I can only succeed in getting past those who +surround him and in reaching his person, I do not doubt that I shall +secure justice, and that, before the week is out, I shall return +joyfully home again to you and my old trade. In that case I would +gladly stay with you," he added, kissing her, "until the end of my +life! But it is advisable," he continued, "to be prepared for any +emergency, and for that reason I should like you, if it is possible, +to go away for a while with the children to your aunt in Schwerin, +whom, moreover, you have, for some time, been intending to visit!" + +"What!" cried the housewife; "I am to go to Schwerin--to go across the +frontier with the children to my aunt in Schwerin?" Terror choked her +words. + +"Certainly," answered Kohlhaas, "and, if possible, right away, so that +I may not be hindered by any family considerations in the steps I +intend to take in my suit." + +"Oh, I understand you!" she cried. "You now need nothing but weapons +and horses; whoever will may take everything else!" With this she +turned away and, in tears, flung herself down on a chair. + +Kohlhaas exclaimed in alarm, "Dearest Lisbeth, what are you doing? God +has blessed me with wife and children and worldly goods; am I today +for the first time to wish that it were otherwise?" He sat down gently +beside his wife, who at these words had flushed up and fallen on his +neck. "Tell me!" said he, smoothing the curls away from her forehead. +"What shall I do? Shall I give up my case? Do you wish me to go to +Tronka Castle, beg the knight to restore the horses to me, mount and +ride them back home?" + +Lisbeth did not dare to cry out, "Yes, yes, yes!" She shook her head, +weeping, and, clasping him close, kissed him passionately. + +"Well, then," cried Kohlhaas, "if you feel that, in case I am to +continue my trade, justice must be done me, do not deny me the liberty +which I must have in order to procure it!" + +With that he stood up and said to the groom who had come to tell him +that the chestnut horse was saddled, "To-morrow the bay horses must +be harnessed up to take my wife to Schwerin." Lisbeth said that she +had an idea! She rose, wiped the tears from her eyes, and, going over +to the desk where he had seated himself, asked him if he would give +her the petition and let her go to Berlin in his stead and hand it to +the Elector. For more reasons than one Kohlhaas was deeply moved by +this change of attitude. He drew her down on his lap, and said, +"Dearest wife, that is hardly practicable. The sovereign is surrounded +by a great many people; whoever wishes to approach him is exposed to +many annoyances." + +Lisbeth rejoined that, in a thousand cases, it was easier for a woman +to approach him than it was for a man. "Give me the petition," she +repeated, "and if all that you wish is the assurance that it shall +reach his hands, I vouch for it; he shall receive it!" + +Kohlhaas, who had had many proofs of her courage as well as of her +wisdom, asked her how she intended to go about it. To this she +answered, looking shamefacedly at the ground, that the castellan of +the Elector's palace had paid court to her in former days, when he had +been in service in Schwerin; that, to be sure, he was married now and +had several children, but that she was not yet entirely forgotten, +and, in short, her husband should leave it to her to take advantage of +this circumstance as well as of many others which it would require too +much time to enumerate. Kohlhaas kissed her joyfully, said that he +accepted her proposal, and informed her that for her to lodge with the +wife of the castellan would be all that was necessary to enable her to +approach the sovereign inside the palace itself. Then he gave her the +petition, had the bay horses harnessed, and sent her off, well bundled +up, accompanied by Sternbald, his faithful groom. + +Of all the unsuccessful steps, however, which he had taken in regard +to his suit, this journey was the most unfortunate. For only a few +days later Sternbald entered the courtyard again, leading the horses +at a walk before the wagon, in which lay his wife, stretched out, with +a dangerous contusion of the chest. Kohlhaas, who approached the wagon +with a white face, could learn nothing coherent concerning the cause +of the accident. The castellan, the groom said, had not been at home; +they had therefore been obliged to put up at an inn that stood near +the palace. Lisbeth had left this inn on the following morning, +ordering the servant to stay behind with the horses; not until evening +had she returned, and then only in this condition. It seemed she had +pressed forward too boldly toward the person of the sovereign, and +without any fault of his, but merely through the rough zeal of a +body-guard which surrounded him, she had received a blow on the chest +with the shaft of a lance. At least this was what the people said who, +toward evening, had brought her back unconscious to the inn; for she +herself could talk but little for the blood which flowed from her +mouth. The petition had been taken from her afterward by a knight. +Sternbald said that it had been his wish to jump on a horse at once +and bring the news of the unfortunate accident to his master, but, in +spite of the remonstrances of the surgeon who had been called in, she +had insisted on being taken back to her husband at Kohlhaasenbrück +without previously sending him word. She was completely exhausted by +the journey and Kohlhaas put her to bed, where she lived a few days +longer, struggling painfully to draw breath. + +They tried in vain to restore her to consciousness in order to learn +the particulars of what had occurred; she lay with fixed, already +glassy eyes, and gave no answer. + +Once only, shortly before her death, did she recover consciousness. A +minister of the Lutheran church (which religion, then in its infancy, +she had embraced, following the example of her husband) was standing +beside her bed, reading in a loud solemn voice, full of emotion, a +chapter of the Bible, when she suddenly looked up at him with a stern +expression, and, taking the Bible out of his hand, as though there +were no need to read to her from it, turned over the leaves for some +time and seemed to be searching for some special passage. At last, +with her fore-finger she pointed out to Kohlhaas, who was sitting +beside her bed, the verse: "Forgive your enemies; do good to them that +hate you." As she did so she pressed his hand with a look full of deep +and tender feeling, and passed away. + +Kohlhaas thought, "May God never forgive me the way I forgive the +Squire!" Then he kissed her amid freely flowing tears, closed her +eyes, and left the chamber. + +He took the hundred gold gulden which the bailiff had already sent him +for the stables in Dresden, and ordered a funeral ceremony that seemed +more suitable for a princess than for her--an oaken coffin heavily +trimmed with metal, cushions of silk with gold and silver tassels, and +a grave eight yards deep lined with stones and mortar. He himself +stood beside the vault with his youngest child in his arms and watched +the work. On the day of the funeral the corpse, white as snow, was +placed in a room which he had had draped with black cloth. + +The minister had just completed a touching address by the side of the +bier when the sovereign's answer to the petition which the dead woman +had presented was delivered to Kohlhaas. By this decree he was ordered +to fetch the horses from Tronka Castle and, under pain of +imprisonment, not to bring any further action in the matter. Kohlhaas +put the letter in his pocket and had the coffin carried out to the +hearse. + +As soon as the mound had been raised, the cross planted on it, and the +guests who had been present at the interment had taken their +departure, Kohlhaas flung himself down once more before his wife's +empty bed, and then set about the business of revenge. + +He sat down and made out a decree in which, by virtue of his own +innate authority, he condemned the Squire Wenzel Tronka within the +space of three days after sight to lead back to Kohlhaasenbrück the +two black horses which he had taken from him and over-worked in the +fields, and with his own hands to feed the horses in Kohlhaas' stables +until they were fat again. This decree he sent off to the Squire by a +mounted messenger, and instructed the latter to return to +Kohlhaasenbrück as soon as he had delivered the document. + +As the three days went by without the horses being returned, Kohlhaas +called Herse and informed him of what he had ordered the Squire to do +in regard to fattening them. Then he asked Herse two questions: first, +whether he would ride with him to Tronka Castle and fetch the Squire; +and, secondly, whether Herse would be willing to apply the whip to the +young gentleman after he had been brought to the stables at +Kohlhaasenbrück, in case he should be remiss in carrying out the +conditions of the decree. As soon as Herse understood what was meant +he shouted joyfully--"Sir, this very day!" and, throwing his hat into +the air, he cried that he was going to have a thong with ten knots +plaited in order to teach the Squire how to curry-comb. After this +Kohlhaas sold the house, packed the children into a wagon, and sent +them over the border. When darkness fell he called the other servants +together, seven in number, and every one of them true as gold to him, +armed them and provided them with mounts and set out for the Tronka +Castle. + +At night-fall of the third day, with this little troop he rode down +the toll-gatherer and the gate-keeper who were standing in +conversation in the arched gateway, and attacked the castle. They set +fire to all the outbuildings in the castle inclosure, and, while, amid +the outburst of the flames, Herse hurried up the winding staircase +into the tower of the castellan's quarters, and with blows and stabs +fell upon the castellan and the steward who were sitting, half +dressed, over the cards, Kohlhaas at the same time dashed into the +castle in search of the Squire Wenzel. Thus it is that the angel of +judgment descends from heaven; the Squire, who, to the accompaniment +of immoderate laughter, was just reading aloud to a crowd of young +friends the decree which the horse-dealer had sent to him, had no +sooner heard the sound of his voice in the courtyard than, turning +suddenly pale as death, he cried out to the gentlemen--"Brothers, save +yourselves!" and disappeared. As Kohlhaas entered the room he seized +by the shoulders a certain Squire, Hans Tronka, who came at him, and +flung him into the corner of the room with such force that his brains +spurted out over the stone floor. While the other knights, who had +drawn their weapons, were being overpowered and scattered by the +grooms, Kohlhaas asked where the Squire Wenzel Tronka was. Realizing +the ignorance of the stunned men, he kicked open the doors of two +apartments leading into the wings of the castle and, after searching +in every direction throughout the rambling building and finding no +one, he went down, cursing, into the castle yard, in order to place +guards at the exits. + +In the meantime, from the castle and the wings, which had caught fire +from the out-buildings, thick columns of smoke were rising heavenward. +While Sternbald and three busy grooms were gathering together +everything in the castle that was not fastened securely and throwing +it down among the horses as fair spoils, from the open windows of the +castellan's quarters the corpses of the castellan and the steward, +with their wives and children, were flung down into the courtyard amid +the joyful shouts of Herse. As Kohlhaas descended the steps of the +castle, the gouty old housekeeper who managed the Squire's +establishment threw herself at his feet. Pausing on the step, he asked +her where the Squire Wenzel Tronka was. She answered in a faint +trembling voice that she thought he had taken refuge in the chapel. +Kohlhaas then called two men with torches, and, since they had no +keys, he had the door broken open with crowbars and axes. He knocked +over altars and pews; nevertheless, to his anger and grief, he did +not find the Squire. + +It happened that, at the moment when Kohlhaas came out of the chapel, +a young servant, one of the retainers of the castle, came hurrying +upon his way to get the Squire's chargers out of a large stone stable +which was threatened by the flames. Kohlhaas, who at that very moment +spied his two blacks in a little shed roofed with straw, asked the man +why he did not rescue the two blacks. The latter, sticking the key in +the stable-door, answered that he surely must see that the shed was +already in flames. Kohlhaas tore the key violently from the +stable-door, threw it over the wall, and, raining blows as thick as +hail on the man with the flat of his sword, drove him into the burning +shed and, amid the horrible laughter of the bystanders, forced him to +rescue the black horses. Nevertheless, when the man, pale with fright, +reappeared with the horses, only a few moments before the shed fell in +behind him, he no longer found Kohlhaas. Betaking himself to the men +gathered in the castle inclosure, he asked the horse-dealer, who +several times turned his back on him, what he was to do with the +animals now. + +Kohlhaas suddenly raised his foot with such terrible force that the +kick, had it landed, would have meant death; then, without answering, +he mounted his bay horse, stationed himself under the gateway of the +castle, and, while his men continued their work of destruction, +silently awaited the break of day. + +When the morning dawned the entire castle had burned down and only the +walls remained standing; no one was left in it but Kohlhaas and his +seven men. He dismounted from his horse and, in the bright sunlight +which illuminated every crack and corner, once more searched the +inclosure. When he had to admit, hard though it was for him to do so, +that the expedition against the castle had failed, with a heart full +of pain and grief he sent Herse and some of the other men to gather +news of the direction in which the Squire had fled. He felt +especially troubled about a rich nunnery for ladies of rank, Erlabrunn +by name, which was situated on the shores of the Mulde, and whose +abbess, Antonia Tronka, was celebrated in the neighborhood as a pious, +charitable, and saintly woman. The unhappy Kohlhaas thought it only +too probable that the Squire, stripped as he was of all necessities, +had taken refuge in this nunnery, since the abbess was his own aunt +and had been his governess in his early childhood. After informing +himself of these particulars, Kohlhaas ascended the tower of the +castellan's quarters in the interior of which there was still a +habitable room, and there he drew up a so-called "Kohlhaas mandate" in +which he warned the country not to offer assistance to Squire Wenzel +Tronka, against whom he was waging just warfare, and, furthermore, +commanded every inhabitant, instead, relatives and friends not +excepted, to surrender him under penalty of death and the inevitable +burning down of everything that might be called property. + +This declaration he scattered broadcast in the surrounding country +through travelers and strangers; he even went so far as to give +Waldmann, his servant, a copy of it, with definite instructions to +carry it to Erlabrunn and place it in the hands of Lady Antonia. +Thereupon he had a talk with some of the servants of Tronka Castle who +were dissatisfied with the Squire and, attracted by the prospect of +plunder, wished to enter the horse-dealer's service. He armed them +after the manner of foot-soldiers, with cross-bows and daggers, taught +them how to mount behind the men on horseback, and after he had turned +into money everything that the company had collected and had +distributed it among them, he spent some hours in the gateway of the +castle, resting after his sorry labor. + +Toward midday Herse came and confirmed what Kohlhaas' heart, which was +always filled with the most gloomy forebodings, had already told +him--namely, that the Squire was then in the nunnery of Erlabrunn with +the old Lady Antonia Tronka, his aunt. It seemed that, through a door +in the rear wall behind the castle, leading into the open air, he had +escaped down a narrow stone stairway which, protected by a little +roof, ran down to a few boats on the Elbe. At least, Herse reported +that at midnight the Squire in a skiff without rudder or oars had +arrived at a village on the Elbe, to the great astonishment of the +inhabitants who were assembled on account of the fire at Tronka Castle +and that he had gone on toward Erlabrunn in a village cart. + +Kohlhaas sighed deeply at this news; he asked whether the horses had +been fed, and when they answered "Yes," he had his men mount, and in +three hours' time he was at the gates of Erlabrunn. Amid the rumbling +of a distant storm on the horizon, he and his troop entered the +courtyard of the convent with torches which they had lighted before +reaching the spot. Just as Waldmann, his servant, came forward to +announce that the mandate had been duly delivered, Kohlhaas saw the +abbess and the chapter-warden step out under the portal of the +nunnery, engaged in agitated conversation. While the chapter-warden, a +little old man with snow-white hair, shooting furious glances at +Kohlhaas, was having his armor put on and, in a bold voice, called to +the men-servants surrounding him to ring the storm-bell, the abbess, +white as a sheet, and holding the silver image of the Crucified One in +her hand, descended the sloping driveway and, with all her nuns, flung +herself down before Kohlhaas' horse. + +Herse and Sternbald overpowered the chapter-warden, who had no sword +in his hand, and led him off as a prisoner among the horses, while +Kohlhaas asked the abbess where Squire Wenzel Tronka was. She +unfastened from her girdle a large ring of keys, and answered, "In +Wittenberg, Kohlhaas, worthy man!"--adding, in a shaking voice, "Fear +God, and do no wrong!" Kohlhaas, plunged back into the hell of +unsatisfied thirst for revenge, wheeled his horse and was about to +cry, "Set fire to the buildings!" when a terrific thunder-bolt struck +close beside him. Turning his horse around again toward the abbess he +asked her whether she had received his mandate. The lady answered in a +weak, scarcely audible voice--"Just a few moments ago!" "When?" "Two +hours after the Squire, my nephew, had taken his departure, as truly +as God is my help!" When Waldmann, the groom, to whom Kohlhaas turned +with a lowering glance, stammered out a confirmation of this fact, +saying that the waters of the Mulde, swollen by the rain, had +prevented his arriving until a few moments ago, Kohlhaas came to his +senses. A sudden, terrible downpour of rain, sweeping across the +pavement of the courtyard and extinguishing the torches, relaxed the +tension of the unhappy man's grief; doffing his hat curtly to the +abbess, he wheeled his horse, dug in his spurs, calling "Follow me, my +brothers; the Squire is in Wittenberg," and left the nunnery. + +The night having set in, he stopped at an inn on the highroad, and had +to rest here for a day because the horses were so exhausted. As he +clearly saw that with a troop of ten men (for his company numbered +that many now) he could not defy a place like Wittenberg, he drew up a +second mandate, in which, after a short account of what had happened +to him in the land, he summoned "every good Christian," as he +expressed it, to whom he "solemnly promised bounty-money and other +perquisites of war, to take up his quarrel against Squire Tronka as +the common enemy of all Christians." In another mandate which appeared +shortly after this he called himself "a free gentleman of the Empire +and of the World, subject only to God"--an example of morbid and +misplaced fanaticism which, nevertheless, with the sound of his money +and the prospect of plunder, procured him a crowd of recruits from +among the rabble, whom the peace with Poland had deprived of a +livelihood. In fact, he had thirty-odd men when he crossed back to the +right side of the Elbe, bent upon reducing Wittenberg to ashes. + +He encamped with horses and men in an old tumble-down brick-kiln, in +the solitude of a dense forest which surrounded the town at that time. +No sooner had Sternbald, whom he had sent in disguise into the city +with the mandate, brought him word that it was already known there, +than he set out with his troop on the eve of Whitsuntide; and while +the citizens lay sound asleep, he set the town on fire at several +points simultaneously. At the same time, while his men were plundering +the suburbs, he fastened a paper to the door-post of a church to the +effect that "he, Kohlhaas, had set the city on fire, and if the Squire +were not delivered to him he would burn down the city so completely +that," as he expressed it, "he would not need to look behind any wall +to find him." + +The terror of the citizens at such an unheard-of outrage was +indescribable, though, as it was fortunately a rather calm summer +night, the flames had not destroyed more than nineteen buildings, +among which, however, was a church. Toward daybreak, as soon as the +fire had been partially extinguished, the aged Governor of the +province, Otto von Gorgas, sent out immediately a company of fifty men +to capture the bloodthirsty madman. The captain in command of the +company, Gerstenberg by name, bore himself so badly, however, that the +whole expedition, instead of subduing Kohlhaas, rather helped him to a +most dangerous military reputation. For the captain separated his men +into several divisions, with the intention of surrounding and crushing +Kohlhaas; but the latter, holding his troop together, attacked and +beat him at isolated points, so that by the evening of the following +day, not a single man of the whole company in which the hopes of the +country were centred, remained in the field against him. Kohlhaas, who +had lost some of his men in these fights, again set fire to the city +on the morning of the next day, and his murderous measures were so +well taken that once more a number of houses and almost all the barns +in the suburbs were burned down. At the same time he again posted the +well-known mandate, this time, furthermore, on the corners of the +city hall itself, and he added a notice concerning the fate of Captain +von Gerstenberg who had been sent against him by the Governor, and +whom he had overwhelmingly defeated. + +The Governor of the province, highly incensed at this defiance, placed +himself with several knights at the head of a troop of one hundred and +fifty men. At a written request he gave Squire Wenzel Tronka a guard +to protect him from the violence of the people, who flatly insisted +that he must be removed from the city. After the Governor had had +guards placed in all the villages in the vicinity, and also had +sentinels stationed on the city walls to prevent a surprise, he +himself set out on Saint Gervaise's day to capture the dragon who was +devastating the land. The horse-dealer was clever enough to keep out +of the way of this troop. By skilfully executed marches he enticed the +Governor five leagues away from the city, and by means of various +manoeuvres he gave the other the mistaken notion that, hard pressed by +superior numbers, he was going to throw himself into Brandenburg. +Then, when the third night closed in, he made a forced ride back to +Wittenberg, and for the third time set fire to the city. Herse, who +crept into the town in disguise, carried out this horrible feat of +daring, and because of a sharp north wind that was blowing, the fire +proved so destructive and spread so rapidly that in less than three +hours forty-two houses, two churches, several convents and schools, +and the very residence of the electoral governor of the province were +reduced to ruins and ashes. + +The Governor who, when the day broke, believed his adversary to be in +Brandenburg, returned by forced marches when informed of what had +happened, and found the city in a general uproar. The people were +massed by thousands around the Squire's house, which was barricaded +with heavy timbers and posts, and with wild cries they demanded his +expulsion from the city. Two burgomasters, Jenkens and Otto by name, +who were present in their official dress at the head of the entire +city council, tried in vain to explain that they absolutely must await +the return of a courier who had been dispatched to the President of +the Chancery of State for permission to send the Squire to Dresden, +whither he himself, for many reasons, wished to go. The unreasoning +crowd, armed with pikes and staves, cared nothing for these words. +After handling rather roughly some councilors who were insisting upon +the adoption of vigorous measures, the mob was about to storm the +house where the Squire was and level it to the ground, when the +Governor, Otto von Gorgas, appeared in the city at the head of his +troopers. This worthy gentleman, who was wont by his mere presence to +inspire people to respectful obedience, had, as though in compensation +for the failure of the expedition from which he was returning, +succeeded in taking prisoner three stray members of the incendiary's +band, right in front of the gates of the city. While the prisoners +were being loaded with chains before the eyes of the people, he made a +clever speech to the city councilors, assuring them that he was on +Kohlhaas' track and thought that he would soon be able to bring the +incendiary himself in chains. By force of all these reassuring +circumstances he succeeded in allaying the fears of the assembled +crowd and in partially reconciling them to the presence of the Squire +until the return of the courier from Dresden. He dismounted from his +horse and, accompanied by some knights, entered the house after the +posts and stockades had been cleared away. He found the Squire, who +was falling from one faint into another, in the hands of two doctors, +who with essences and stimulants were trying to restore him to +consciousness. As Sir Otto von Gorgas realized that this was not the +moment to exchange any words with him on the subject of the behavior +of which he had been guilty, he merely told him, with a look of quiet +contempt, to dress himself, and, for his own safety, to follow him to +the apartments of the knight's prison. They put a doublet and a helmet +on the Squire and when, with chest half bare on account of the +difficulty he had in breathing, he appeared in the street on the arm +of the Governor and his brother-in-law, the Count of Gerschau, +blasphemous and horrible curses against him rose to heaven. The mob, +whom the lansquenets found it very difficult to restrain, called him a +bloodsucker, a miserable public pest and a tormentor of men, the curse +of the city of Wittenberg, and the ruin of Saxony. After a wretched +march through the devastated city, in the course of which the Squire's +helmet fell off several times without his missing it and had to be +replaced on his head by the knight who was behind him, they reached +the prison at last, where he disappeared into a tower under the +protection of a strong guard. Meanwhile the return of the courier with +the decree of the Elector had aroused fresh alarm in the city. For the +Saxon government, to which the citizens of Dresden had made direct +application in an urgent petition, refused to permit the Squire to +sojourn in the electoral capital before the incendiary had been +captured. The Governor was instructed rather to use all the power at +his command to protect the Squire just where he was, since he had to +stay somewhere, but in order to pacify the good city of Wittenberg, +the inhabitants were informed that a force of five hundred men under +the command of Prince Friedrich of Meissen was already on the way to +protect them from further molestation on the part of Kohlhaas. + +The Governor saw clearly that a decree of this kind was wholly +inadequate to pacify the people. For not only had several small +advantages gained by the horse-dealer in skirmishes outside the city +sufficed to spread extremely disquieting rumors as to the size to +which his band had grown; his way of waging warfare with ruffians in +disguise who slunk about under cover of darkness with pitch, straw, +and sulphur, unheard of and quite without precedent as it was, would +have rendered ineffectual an even larger protecting force than the one +which was advancing under the Prince of Meissen. After reflecting a +short time, the Governor determined therefore to suppress altogether +the decree he had received; he merely posted at all the street corners +a letter from the Prince of Meissen, announcing his arrival. At +daybreak a covered wagon left the courtyard of the knight's prison and +took the road to Leipzig, accompanied by four heavily armed troopers +who, in an indefinite sort of way, let it be understood that they were +bound for the Pleissenburg. The people having thus been satisfied on +the subject of the ill-starred Squire, whose existence seemed +identified with fire and sword, the Governor himself set out with a +force of three hundred men to join Prince Friedrich of Meissen. In the +mean time Kohlhaas, thanks to the strange position which he had +assumed in the world, had in truth increased the numbers of his band +to one hundred and nine men, and he had also collected in Jessen a +store of weapons with which he had fully armed them. When informed of +the two tempests that were sweeping down upon him, he decided to go to +meet them with the speed of the hurricane before they should join to +overwhelm him. In accordance with this plan he attacked the Prince of +Meissen the very next night, surprising him near Mühlberg. In this +fight, to be sure, he was greatly grieved to lose Herse, who was +struck down at his side by the first shots but, embittered by this +loss, in a three-hour battle he so roughly handled the Prince of +Meissen, who was unable to collect his forces in the town, that at +break of day the latter was obliged to take the road back to Dresden, +owing to several severe wounds which he had received and the complete +disorder into which his troops had been thrown. Kohlhaas, made +foolhardy by this victory, turned back to attack the Governor before +the latter could learn of it, fell upon him at midday in the open +country near the village of Damerow, and fought him until nightfall, +with murderous losses, to be sure, but with corresponding success. +Indeed, the next morning he would certainly with the remnant of his +band have renewed the attack on the Governor, who had thrown himself +into the churchyard at Damerow, if the latter had not received +through spies the news of the defeat of the Prince at Mühlberg and +therefore deemed it wiser to return to Wittenberg to await a more +propitious moment. + +Five days after the dispersion of these two bodies of troops, Kohlhaas +arrived before Leipzig and set fire to the city on three different +sides. In the mandate which he scattered broadcast on this occasion he +called himself "a vicegerent of the archangel Michael who had come to +visit upon all who, in this controversy, should take the part of the +Squire, punishment by fire and sword for the villainy into which the +whole world was plunged." At the same time, having surprised the +castle at Lützen and fortified himself in it, he summoned the people +to join him and help establish a better order of things. With a sort +of insane fanaticism the mandate was signed: "Done at the seat of our +provisional world government, our ancient castle at Lützen." + +As the good fortune of the inhabitants of Leipzig would have it, the +fire, owing to a steady rain which was falling, did not spread, so +that, thanks to the rapid action of the means at hand for +extinguishing fires, only a few small shops which lay around the +Pleissenburg went up in flames; nevertheless the presence of the +desperate incendiary, and his erroneous impression that the Squire was +in Leipzig, caused unspeakable consternation in the city. When a troop +of one hundred and eighty men at arms that had been sent against him +returned defeated, nothing else remained for the city councilors, who +did not wish to jeopardize the wealth of the place, but to bar the +gates completely and set the citizens to keep watch day and night +outside the walls. In vain the city council had declarations posted in +the villages of the surrounding country, with the positive assurance +that the Squire was not in the Pleissenburg. The horse-dealer, in +similar manifestos, insisted that he was in the Pleissenburg and +declared that if the Squire were not there, he, Kohlhaas, would at any +rate proceed as though he were until he should have been told the +name of the place where his enemy was to be found. The Elector, +notified by courier of the straits to which the city of Leipzig was +reduced, declared that he was already gathering a force of two +thousand men and would put himself at their head in order to capture +Kohlhaas. He administered to Sir Otto von Gorgas a severe rebuke for +the misleading and ill-considered artifice to which he had resorted to +rid the vicinity of Wittenberg of the incendiary. Nor can any one +describe the confusion which seized all Saxony, and especially the +electoral capital, when it was learned there that in all the villages +near Leipzig a declaration addressed to Kohlhaas had been placarded, +no one knew by whom, to the effect that "Wenzel, the Squire, was with +his cousins Hinz and Kunz in Dresden." + +It was under these circumstances that Doctor Martin Luther, supported +by the authority which his position in the world gave him, undertook +the task of forcing Kohlhaas, by the power of kindly words, back +within the limits set by the social order of the day. Building upon an +element of good in the breast of the incendiary, he had posted in all +the cities and market-towns of the Electorate a placard addressed to +him, which read as follows: + +"Kohlhaas, thou who claimest to be sent to wield the sword of justice, +what is it that thou, presumptuous man, art making bold to attempt in +the madness of thy stone-blind passion--thou who art filled from head +to foot with injustice? Because the sovereign, to whom thou art +subject, has denied thee thy rights--thy rights in the struggle for a +paltry trifle--thou arisest, godless man, with fire and sword, and +like a wolf of the wilderness dost burst upon the peaceful community +which he protects. Thou, who misleadest men with this declaration full +of untruthfulness and guile, dost thou think, sinner, to satisfy God +therewith in that future day which shall shine into the recesses of +every heart? How canst thou say that thy rights have been denied +thee--thou, whose savage breast, animated by the inordinate desire +for base revenge, completely gave up the endeavor to procure justice +after the first half-hearted attempts, which came to naught? Is a +bench full of constables and beadles who suppress a letter that is +presented, or who withhold a judgment that they should deliver--is +this thy supreme authority? And must I tell thee, impious man, that +the supreme authority of the land knows nothing whatever about thine +affair--nay, more, that the sovereign against whom thou art rebelling +does not even know thy name, so that when thou shalt one day come +before the throne of God thinking to accuse him, he will be able to +say with a serene countenance, 'I have done no wrong to this man, +Lord, for my soul is ignorant of his existence.' Know that the sword +which thou wieldest is the sword of robbery and bloodthirstiness. A +rebel art thou, and no warrior of the righteous God; wheel and gallows +are thy goal on earth--gallows and, in the life to come, damnation +which is ordained for crime and godlessness. + +Wittenberg, etc. MARTIN LUTHER." + +When Sternbald and Waldmann, to their great consternation, discovered +the placard which had been affixed to the gateway of the castle at +Lützen during the night, Kohlhaas within the castle was just revolving +in his distracted mind a new plan for the burning of Leipzig--for he +placed no faith in the notices posted in the villages announcing that +Squire Wenzel was in Dresden, since they were not signed by any one, +let alone by the municipal council, as he had required. For several +days the two men hoped in vain that Kohlhaas would perceive Luther's +placard, for they did not care to approach him on the subject. Gloomy +and absorbed in thought, he did indeed, in the evening, appear, but +only to give his brief commands, and he noticed nothing. Finally one +morning, when he was about to have two of his followers strung up for +plundering in the vicinity against his express orders, Sternbald and +Waldmann determined to call his attention to it. With the pomp which +he had adopted since his last manifesto--a large cherubim's sword on +a red leather cushion, ornamented with golden tassels, borne before +him, and twelve men with burning torches following him--Kohlhaas was +just returning from the place of execution, while the people on both +sides timidly made way for him. At that moment the two men, with their +swords under their arms, walked, in a way that could not fail to +excite his surprise, around the pillar to which the placard was +attached. + +When Kohlhaas, sunk in thought and with his hands folded behind his +back, came under the portal, he raised his eyes and started back in +surprise, and as the two men at sight of him drew back respectfully, +he advanced with rapid steps to the pillar, watching them +absent-mindedly. But who can describe the storm of emotion in his soul +when he beheld there the paper accusing him of injustice, signed by +the most beloved and honored name he knew--the name of Martin Luther! +A dark flush spread over his face; taking off his helmet he read the +document through twice from beginning to end, then walked back among +his men with irresolute glances as though he were about to speak, yet +said nothing. He unfastened the paper from the pillar, read it through +once again, and cried, "Waldmann! have my horse saddled!"--then, +"Sternbald, follow me into the castle!" and with that he disappeared. +It had needed but these few words of that godly man to disarm him +suddenly in the midst of all the dire destruction that he was +plotting. + +He threw on the disguise of a Thuringian farmer and told Sternbald +that a matter of the greatest importance obliged him to go to +Wittenberg. In the presence of some of his most trustworthy men he +turned over to Sternbald the command of the band remaining in Lützen, +and with the assurance that he would be back in three days, during +which time no attack was to be feared, he departed for Wittenberg. He +put up at an inn under an assumed name, and at nightfall, wrapped in +his cloak and provided with a brace of pistols which he had taken at +the sack of Tronka Castle, entered Luther's room. When Luther, who +was sitting at his desk with a mass of books and papers before him, +saw the extraordinary stranger enter his room and bolt the door behind +him, he asked who he was and what he wanted. The man, who was holding +his hat respectfully in his hand, had no sooner, with a diffident +presentiment of the terror that he would cause, made answer that he +was Michael Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer, than Luther cried out, "Stand +far back from me!" and rising from the desk added, as he hurried +toward a bell, "Your breath is pestilence, your presence destruction!" + +Without stirring from the spot Kohlhaas drew his pistol and said, +"Most reverend Sir, if you touch the bell this pistol will stretch me +lifeless at your feet! Sit down and hear me. You are not safer among +the angels, whose psalms you are writing down, than you are with me." + +Luther sat down and asked, "What do you want?" Kohlhaas answered, "I +wish to refute the opinion you have of me, that I am an unjust man! +You told me in your placard that my sovereign knows nothing about my +case. Very well; procure me a safe-conduct and I will go to Dresden +and lay it before him." + +"Impious and terrible man!" cried Luther, puzzled and, at the same +time, reassured by these words. "Who gave you the right to attack +Squire Tronka in pursuance of a decree issued on your own authority, +and, when you did not find him in his castle, to visit with fire and +sword the whole community which protects him?" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Reverend Sir, no one, henceforth. Information +which I received from Dresden deceived and misled me! The war which I +am waging against society is a crime, so long as I haven't been cast +out--and you have assured me that I have not." + +"Cast out!" cried Luther, looking at him. "What mad thoughts have +taken possession of you? Who could have cast you out from the +community of the state in which you lived? Indeed where, as long as +states have existed, has there ever been a case of any one, no matter +who, being cast out of such a community?" + +"I call that man cast out," answered Kohlhaas, clenching his fist, "who +is denied the protection of the laws. For I need this protection, if +my peaceable business is to prosper. Yes, it is for this that, with +all my possessions, I take refuge in this community, and he who denies +me this protection casts me out among the savages of the desert; he +places in my hand--how can you try to deny it?--the club with which to +protect myself." + +"Who has denied you the protection of the laws?" cried Luther. "Did I +not write you that your sovereign, to whom you addressed your +complaint, has never heard of it? If state-servants behind his back +suppress lawsuits or otherwise trifle with his sacred name without his +knowledge, who but God has the right to call him to account for +choosing such servants, and are you, lost and terrible man, entitled +to judge him therefor?" + +"Very well," answered Kohlhaas, "if the sovereign does not cast me out +I will return again to the community which he protects. Procure for +me, I repeat it, safe-conduct to Dresden; then I will disperse the +band of men that I have collected in the castle at Lützen and I will +once again lay my complaint, which was rejected, before the courts of +the land." + +With an expression of vexation, Luther tossed in a heap the papers +that were lying on his desk, and was silent. The attitude of defiance +which this singular man had assumed toward the state irritated him, +and reflecting upon the judgment which Kohlhaas had issued at +Kohlhaasenbrück against the Squire, he asked what it was that he +demanded of the tribunal at Dresden. Kohlhaas answered, "The +punishment of the Squire according to the law; restoration of the +horses to their former condition; and compensation for the damages +which I, as well as my groom Herse, who fell at Mühlberg, have +suffered from the outrage perpetrated upon us." + +Luther cried, "Compensation for damages! Money by the thousands, from +Jews and Christians, on notes and securities, you have borrowed to +defray the expenses of your wild revenge! Shall you put that amount +also on the bill when it comes to reckoning up the costs?" + +"God forbid!" answered Kohlhaas. "House and farm and the means that I +possessed I do not demand back, any more than the expenses of my +wife's funeral! Herse's old mother will present the bill for her son's +medical treatment, as well as a list of those things which he lost at +Tronka Castle; and the loss which I suffered on account of not selling +the black horses the government may have estimated by an expert." + +Luther exclaimed, as he gazed at him, "Mad, incomprehensible, and +amazing man! After your sword has taken the most ferocious revenge +upon the Squire which could well be imagined, what impels you to +insist upon a judgment against him, the severity of which, when it is +finally pronounced, will fall so lightly upon him?" + +Kohlhaas answered, while a tear rolled down his cheek, "Most reverend +Sir! It has cost me my wife; Kohlhaas intends to prove to the world +that she did not perish in an unjust quarrel. Do you, in these +particulars, yield to my will and let the court of justice speak; in +all other points that may be contested I will yield to you." + +Luther said, "See here, what you demand is just, if indeed the +circumstances are such as is commonly reported; and if you had only +succeeded in having your suit decided by the sovereign before you +arbitrarily proceeded to avenge yourself, I do not doubt that your +demands would have been granted, point for point. But, all things +considered, would it not have been better for you to pardon the Squire +for your Redeemer's sake, take back the black horses, thin and +worn-out as they were, and mount and ride home to Kohlhaasenbrück to +fatten them in your own stable?" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Perhaps!" Then, stepping to the window, "Perhaps +not, either! Had I known that I should be obliged to set them on +their feet again with blood from the heart of my dear wife, I might, +reverend Sir, perhaps have done as you say and not have considered a +bushel of oats! But since they have now cost me so dear, let the +matter run its course, say I; have judgment be pronounced as is due +me, and have the Squire fatten my horses for me." + +Turning back to his papers with conflicting thoughts, Luther said that +he would enter into negotiations with the Elector on his behalf; in +the mean time let him remain quietly in the castle at Lützen. If the +sovereign would consent to accord him free-conduct, they would make +the fact known to him by posting it publicly. "To be sure," he +continued, as Kohlhaas bent to kiss his hand, "whether the Elector +will be lenient, I do not know, for I have heard that he has collected +an army and is about to start out to apprehend you in the castle at +Lützen; however, as I have already told you, there shall be no lack of +effort on my part"--and, as he spoke, he got up from his chair +prepared to dismiss him. Kohlhaas declared that Luther's intercession +completely reassured him on that point, whereupon Luther bowed to him +with a sweep of his hand. Kohlhaas, however, suddenly sank down on one +knee before him and said he had still another favor to ask of him--the +fact was, that at Whitsuntide, when it was his custom to receive the +Holy Communion, he had failed to go to church on account of this +warlike expedition of his. Would Luther have the goodness to receive +his confession without further preparation and, in exchange, +administer to him the blessed Holy Sacrament? Luther, after reflecting +a short time, scanned his face, and said, "Yes, Kohlhaas, I will do +so. But the Lord, whose body you desire, forgave his enemy. Will you +likewise," he added, as the other looked at him disconcerted, "forgive +the Squire who has offended you? Will you go to Tronka Castle, mount +your black horses, ride them back to Kohlhaasenbrück and fatten them +there?" + +"Your Reverence!" said Kohlhaas flushing, and seized his hand-- + +"Well?" + +"Even the Lord did not forgive all his enemies. Let me forgive the +Elector, my two gentlemen the castellan and the steward, the lords +Hinz and Kunz, and whoever else may have injured me in this affair; +but, if it is possible, suffer me to force the Squire to fatten my +black horses again for me." + +At these words Luther turned his back on him, with a displeased +glance, and rang the bell. In answer to the summons an amanuensis came +into the anteroom with a light, and Kohlhaas, wiping his eyes, rose +from his knees disconcerted; and since the amanuensis was working in +vain at the door, which was bolted, and Luther had sat down again to +his papers, Kohlhaas opened the door for the man. Luther glanced for +an instant over his shoulder at the stranger, and said to the +amanuensis, "Light the way!" whereupon the latter, somewhat surprised +at the sight of the visitor, took down from the wall the key to the +outside door and stepped back to the half-opened door of the room, +waiting for the stranger to take his departure. Kohlhaas, holding his +hat nervously in both hands, said, "And so, most reverend Sir, I +cannot partake of the benefit of reconciliation, which I solicited of +you?" + +Luther answered shortly, "Reconciliation with your Savior--no! With +the sovereign--that depends upon the success of the attempt which I +promised you to make." And then he motioned to the amanuensis to carry +out, without further delay, the command he had given him. Kohlhaas +laid both hands on his heart with an expression of painful emotion, +and disappeared after the man who was lighting him down the stairs. + +On the next morning Luther dispatched a message to the Elector of +Saxony in which, after a bitter allusion to the lords, Hinz and Kunz +Tronka, Chamberlain and Cup-bearer to his Highness, who, as was +generally known, had suppressed the petition, he informed the +sovereign, with the candor that was peculiar to him, that under such +notorious circumstances there was nothing to do but to accept the +proposition of the horse-dealer and to grant him an amnesty for what +had occurred so that he might have opportunity to renew his lawsuit. +Public opinion, Luther remarked, was on the side of this man to a very +dangerous extent--so much so that, even in Wittenberg, which had three +times been burnt down by him, there was a voice raised in his favor. +And since, if his offer were refused, Kohlhaas would undoubtedly bring +it to the knowledge of the people, accompanied by malicious comments, +and the populace might easily be so far misled that nothing further +could be done against him by the authorities of the state, Luther +concluded that, in this extraordinary case, scruples about entering +into negotiations with a subject who had taken up arms must be passed +over; that, as a matter of fact, the latter, by the conduct which had +been observed toward him, had in a sense been cast out of the body +politic, and, in short, in order to put an end to the matter, he +should be regarded rather as a foreign power which had attacked the +land (and, since he was not a Saxon subject, he really might, in a +way, be regarded as such), than as a rebel in revolt against the +throne. + +When the Elector received this letter there were present at the palace +Prince Christiern of Meissen, Generalissimo of the Empire, uncle of +that Prince Friedrich of Meissen who had been defeated at Mühlberg and +was still laid up with his wounds, also the Grand Chancellor of the +Tribunal, Count Wrede, Count Kallheim, President of the Chancery of +State, and the two lords, Hinz and Kunz Tronka, the former Cup-bearer, +the latter Chamberlain--all confidential friends of the sovereign from +his youth. The Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, who in his capacity of privy +councilor, attended to the private correspondence of his master and +had the right to use his name and seal, was the first to speak. He +once more explained in detail that never, on his own authority, would +he have suppressed the complaint which the horse-dealer had lodged in +court against his cousin the Squire, had it not been for the fact +that, misled by false statements, he had believed it an absolutely +unfounded and worthless piece of mischief-making. After this he passed +on to consider the present state of affairs. He remarked that by +neither divine nor human laws had the horse-dealer been warranted in +wreaking such horrible vengeance as he had allowed himself to take for +this mistake. The Chamberlain then proceeded to describe the glory +that would fall upon the damnable head of the latter if they should +negotiate with him as with a recognized military power, and the +ignominy which would thereby be reflected upon the sacred person of +the Elector seemed to him so intolerable that, carried away by the +fire of his eloquence, he declared he would rather let worst come to +worst, see the judgment of the mad rebel carried out and his cousin, +the Squire, led off to Kohlhaasenbrück to fatten the black horses, +than know that the proposition made by Dr. Luther had been accepted. + +The Lord High Chancellor of the Tribunal of Justice, Count Wrede, +turning half way round toward him, expressed regret that the +Chamberlain had not, in the first instance, been inspired with such +tender solicitude for the reputation of the sovereign as he was +displaying in the solution of this undoubtedly delicate affair. He +represented to the Elector his hesitation about employing the power of +the state to carry out a manifestly unjust measure. He remarked, with +a significant allusion to the great numbers which the horse-dealer was +continually recruiting in the country, that the thread of the crime +threatened in this way to be spun out indefinitely, and declared that +the only way to sunder it and extricate the government happily from +that ugly quarrel was to act with plain honesty and to make good, +directly and without respect of person, the mistake which they had +been guilty of committing. + +Prince Christiern of Meissen, when asked by the Elector to express his +opinion, turned deferentially toward the Grand Chancellor and declared +that the latter's way of thinking naturally inspired in him the +greatest respect, but, in wishing to aid Kohlhaas to secure justice, +the Chancellor failed to consider that he was wronging Wittenberg, +Leipzig, and the entire country that had been injured by him, in +depriving them of their just claim for indemnity or at least for +punishment of the culprit. The order of the state was so disturbed in +its relation to this man that it would be difficult to set it right by +an axiom taken from the science of law. Therefore, in accord with the +opinion of the Chamberlain, he was in favor of employing the means +appointed for such cases--that is to say, there should be gathered a +force large enough to enable them either to capture or to crush the +horse-dealer, who had planted himself in the castle at Lützen. The +Chamberlain brought over two chairs from the wall and obligingly +placed them together in the middle of the room for the Elector and the +Prince, saying, as he did so, that he was delighted to find that a man +of the latter's uprightness and acumen agreed with him about the means +to be employed in settling an affair of such varied aspect. The +Prince, placing his hand on the chair without sitting down, looked at +him, and assured him that he had little cause to rejoice on that +account since the first step connected with this course would be the +issuing of a warrant for his arrest, to be followed by a suit for +misuse of the sovereign's name. For if necessity required that the +veil be drawn before the throne of justice over a series of crimes, +which finally would be unable to find room before the bar of judgment, +since each led to another, and no end--this at least did not apply to +the original offense which had given birth to them. First and +foremost, he, the Chamberlain, must be tried for his life if the state +was to be authorized to crush the horse-dealer, whose case, as was +well known, was exceedingly just, and in whose hand they had placed +the sword that he was wielding. + +The discomfited Chamberlain at these words gazed at the Elector, who +turned away, his whole face flushing, and walked over to the window. +After an embarrassing silence on all sides, Count Kallheim said that +this was not the way to extricate themselves from the magic circle in +which they were captive. His nephew, Prince Friedrich, might be put +upon trial with equal justice, for in the peculiar expedition which he +had undertaken against Kohlhaas he had over-stepped his instructions +in many ways--so much so that, if one were to inquire about the whole +long list of those who had caused the embarrassment in which they now +found themselves, he too would have to be named among them and called +to account by the sovereign for what had occurred at Mühlberg. + +While the Elector, with doubtful glances, walked up to his table, the +Cup-bearer, Sir Hinz Tronka, began to speak in his turn. He did not +understand, he said, how the governmental decree which was to be +passed could escape men of such wisdom as were here assembled. The +horse-dealer, so far as he knew, in return for mere safe-conduct to +Dresden and a renewed investigation of his case, had promised to +disband the force with which he had attacked the land. It did not +follow from this, however, that he must be granted an amnesty for the +wanton revenge he had taken into his own hands. These were two +different legal concepts which Dr. Luther, as well as the council of +state, seemed to have confounded. "When," he continued, laying his +finger beside his nose, "the judgment concerning the black horses has +been pronounced by the Tribunal at Dresden, no matter what it may be, +nothing prevents us from imprisoning Kohlhaas on the ground of his +incendiarism and robberies. That would be a diplomatic solution of the +affair, which would unite the advantages of the opinion of both +statesmen and would be sure to win the applause of the world and of +posterity." The Prince, as well as the Lord Chancellor, answered this +speech of Sir Hinz with a mere glance, and, as the discussion +accordingly seemed at an end, the Elector said that he would turn over +in his own mind, until the next sitting of the State Council, the +various opinions which had been expressed before him. It seemed as if +the preliminary measure mentioned by the Prince had deprived the +Elector's heart, which was very sensitive where friendship was +concerned, of the desire to proceed with the campaign against +Kohlhaas, all the preparations for which were completed; at least he +bade the Lord Chancellor, Count Wrede, whose opinion appeared to him +the most expedient, to remain after the others left. The latter showed +him letters from which it appeared that, as a matter of fact, the +horse-dealer's forces had already come to number four hundred men; +indeed, in view of the general discontent which prevailed all over the +country on account of the misdemeanors of the Chamberlain, he might +reckon on doubling or even tripling this number in a short time. +Without further hesitation the Elector decided to accept the advice +given him by Dr. Luther; accordingly he handed over to Count Wrede the +entire management of the Kohlhaas affair. Only a few days later a +placard appeared, the essence of which we give as follows: + +"We, etc., etc., Elector of Saxony, in especially gracious +consideration of the intercession made to us by Doctor Martin Luther, +do grant to Michael Kohlhaas, horse-dealer from the territory of +Brandenburg, safe-conduct to Dresden for the purpose of a renewed +investigation of his case, on condition that, within three days after +sight, he lay down the arms to which he has had recourse. It is to be +understood, however, that in the unlikely event of Kohlhaas' suit +concerning the black horses being rejected by the Tribunal at Dresden, +he shall be prosecuted with all the severity of the law for +arbitrarily undertaking to procure justice for himself. Should his +suit, however, terminate otherwise, we will show mercy to him and his +whole band, instead of inflicting deserved punishment, and a complete +amnesty shall be accorded him for the acts of violence which he has +committed in Saxony." + +Kohlhaas had no sooner received through Dr. Luther a copy of this +placard, which had been posted in all the public squares throughout +the land, than, in spite of the conditional language in which it was +couched, he immediately dispersed his whole band of followers with +presents, expressions of gratitude, and appropriate admonitions. He +deposited whatever he had taken in the way of money, weapons, and +chattels, with the courts at Lützen, to be held as the property of the +Elector, and after he had dispatched Waldmann to the bailiff at +Kohlhaasenbrück with letters about repurchasing his farm, if that were +still possible, and had sent Sternbald to Schwerin for his children +whom he wished to have with him again, he left the castle at Lützen +and went, without being recognized, to Dresden, carrying with him in +bonds the remnant of his little property. + +Day was just breaking and the whole city was still asleep when he +knocked at the door of the little dwelling situated in the suburb of +Pirna, which still, thanks to the honesty of the bailiff, belonged to +him. Thomas, the old porter, in charge of the establishment, who on +opening the door was surprised and startled to see his master, was +told to take word to the Prince of Meissen, in the Government Office, +that Kohlhaas the horse-dealer had arrived. The Prince of Meissen, on +hearing this news, deemed it expedient to inform himself immediately +of the relation in which they stood to this man. When, shortly +afterward, he appeared with a retinue of knights and servants, he +found an immense crowd of people already gathered in the streets +leading to Kohlhaas' dwelling. The news that the destroying angel was +there, who punished the oppressors of the people with fire and sword, +had aroused all Dresden, the city as well as the suburbs. They were +obliged to bolt the door of the house against the press of curious +people, and the boys climbed up to the windows in order to get a peep +at the incendiary, who was eating his breakfast inside. + +As soon as the Prince, with the help of the guard who cleared the way +for him, had pushed into the house and entered Kohlhaas' room, he +asked the latter, who was standing half undressed before a table, +whether he was Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer. Kohlhaas, drawing from his +belt a wallet containing several papers concerning his affairs and +handing it respectfully to the Prince, answered, "Yes;" and added +that, in conformity with the immunity granted him by the sovereign, he +had come to Dresden, after disbanding his force, in order to institute +proceedings against Squire Wenzel Tronka on account of the black +horses. + +The Prince, after a hasty glance which took Kohlhaas in from head to +foot, looked through the papers in the wallet and had him explain the +nature of a certificate which he found there executed by the court at +Lützen, concerning the deposit made in favor of the treasury of the +Electorate. After he had further tested him with various questions +about his children, his wealth, and the sort of life he intended to +lead in the future, in order to find out what kind of man he was, and +had concluded that in every respect they might set their minds at rest +about him, he gave him back the documents and said that nothing now +stood in the way of his lawsuit, and that, in order to institute it, +he should just apply directly to the Lord High Chancellor of the +Tribunal, Count Wrede himself. "In the meantime," said the Prince +after a pause, crossing over to the window and gazing in amazement at +the people gathered in front of the house, "you will be obliged to +consent to a guard for the first few days, to protect you in your +house as well as when you go out!" Kohlhaas looked down disconcerted, +and was silent. "Well, no matter," said the Prince, leaving the +window; "whatever happens, you have yourself to blame for it;" and +with that he turned again toward the door with the intention of +leaving the house. Kohlhaas, who had reflected, said "My lord, do as +you like! If you will give me your word that the guard will be +withdrawn as soon as I wish it, I have no objection to this measure." +The Prince answered, "That is understood, of course." He informed the +three foot-soldiers, who were appointed for this purpose, that the man +in whose house they were to remain was free, and that it was merely +for his protection that they were to follow him when he went out; he +then saluted the horse-dealer with a condescending wave of the hand, +and took his leave. + +Toward midday Kohlhaas went to Count Wrede, Lord High Chancellor of +the Tribunal; he was escorted by his three foot-soldiers and followed +by an innumerable crowd, who, having been warned by the police, did +not try to harm him in any way. The Chancellor received him in his +antechamber with benignity and kindness, conversed with him for two +whole hours, and after he had had the entire course of the affair +related to him from beginning to end, referred Kohlhaas to a +celebrated lawyer in the city who was a member of the Tribunal, so +that he might have the complaint drawn up and presented immediately. + +Kohlhaas, without further delay, betook himself to the lawyer's house +and had the suit drawn up exactly like the original one which had been +quashed. He demanded the punishment of the Squire according to law, +the restoration of the horses to their former condition, and +compensation for the damages he had sustained as well as for those +suffered by his groom, Herse, who had fallen at Mühlberg in behalf of +the latter's old mother. When this was done Kohlhaas returned home, +accompanied by the crowd that still continued to gape at him, firmly +resolved in his mind not to leave the house again unless called away +by important business. + +In the mean time the Squire had been released from his imprisonment in +Wittenberg, and after recovering from a dangerous attack of erysipelas +which had caused inflammation of his foot, had been summoned by the +Supreme Court in peremptory terms to present himself in Dresden to +answer the suit instituted against him by the horse-dealer, Kohlhaas, +with regard to a pair of black horses which had been unlawfully taken +from him and worked to death. The Tronka brothers, the Chamberlain and +the Cup-bearer, cousins of the Squire, at whose house he alighted, +received him with the greatest bitterness and contempt. They called +him a miserable good-for-nothing, who had brought shame and disgrace +on the whole family, told him that he would inevitably lose his suit, +and called upon him to prepare at once to produce the black horses, +which he would be condemned to fatten to the scornful laughter of the +world. The Squire answered in a weak and trembling voice that he was +more deserving of pity than any other man on earth. He swore that he +had known but little about the whole cursed affair which had plunged +him into misfortune, and that the castellan and the steward were to +blame for everything, because they, without his knowledge or consent, +had used the horses in getting in the crops and, by overworking them, +partly in their own fields, had rendered them unfit for further use. +He sat down as he said this and begged them not to mortify and insult +him and thus wantonly cause a relapse of the illness from which he had +but recently recovered. + +Since there was nothing else to be done, the next day, at the request +of their cousin, the Squire, the lords Hinz and Kunz, who possessed +estates in the neighborhood of Tronka Castle, which had been burned +down, wrote to their stewards and to the farmers living there for +information about the black horses which had been lost on that +unfortunate day and not heard of since. But on account of the complete +destruction of the castle and the massacre of most of the inhabitants, +all that they could learn was that a servant, driven by blows dealt +with the flat of the incendiary's sword, had rescued them from the +burning shed in which they were standing, but that afterward, to the +question where he should take them and what he should do with them, he +had been answered by a kick from the savage madman. The Squire's gouty +old housekeeper, who had fled to Meissen, assured the latter, in reply +to his written inquiry, that on the morning after that horrible night +the servant had gone off with the horses toward the Brandenburg +border, but all inquiries which were made there proved vain, and some +error seemed to lie at the bottom of this information, as the Squire +had no servant whose home was in Brandenburg or even on the road +thither. Some men from Dresden, who had been in Wilsdruf a few days +after the burning of Tronka Castle, declared that, at the time named, +a groom had arrived in that place, leading two horses by the halter, +and, as the animals were very sick and could go no further, he had +left them in the cow-stable of a shepherd who had offered to restore +them to good condition. For a variety of reasons it seemed very +probable that these were the black horses for which search was being +made, but persons coming from Wilsdruf declared that the shepherd had +already traded them off again, no one knew to whom; and a third rumor, +the originator of which could not be discovered, even asserted that +the two horses had in the mean time passed peacefully away and been +buried in the carrion pit at Wilsdruf. + +This turn of affairs, as can be easily understood, was the most +pleasing to the lords Hinz and Kunz, as they were thus relieved of the +necessity of fattening the blacks in their stables, the Squire, their +cousin, no longer having any stables of his own. They wished, however, +for the sake of absolute security, to verify this circumstance. Sir +Wenzel Tronka, therefore, in his capacity as hereditary feudal lord +with the right of judicature, addressed a letter to the magistrates at +Wilsdruf, in which, after a minute description of the black horses, +which, as he said, had been intrusted to his care and lost through an +accident, he begged them to be so obliging as to ascertain their +present whereabouts, and to urge and admonish the owner, whoever he +might be, to deliver them at the stables of the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, +in Dresden, and be generously reimbursed for all costs. Accordingly, a +few days later, the man to whom the shepherd in Wilsdruf had sold them +did actually appear with the horses, thin and staggering, tied to the +tailboard of his cart, and led them to the market-place in Dresden. As +the bad luck of Sir Wenzel and still more of honest Kohlhaas would +have it, however, the man happened to be the knacker from Döbeln. + +As soon as Sir Wenzel, in the presence of the Chamberlain, his +cousin, learned from an indefinite rumor that a man had arrived in the +city with two black horses which had escaped from the burning of +Tronka Castle, both gentlemen, accompanied by a few servants hurriedly +collected in the house, went to the palace square where the man had +stopped, intending, if the two animals proved to be those belonging to +Kohlhaas, to make good the expenses the man had incurred and take the +horses home with them. But how disconcerted were the knights to see a +momentarily increasing crowd of people, who had been attracted by the +spectacle, already standing around the two-wheeled cart to which the +horses were fastened! Amid uninterrupted laughter they were calling to +one another that the horses, on account of which the whole state was +tottering, already belonged to the knacker! The Squire who had gone +around the cart and gazed at the miserable animals, which seemed every +moment about to expire, said in an embarrassed way that those were not +the horses which he had taken from Kohlhaas; but Sir Kunz, the +Chamberlain, casting at him a look of speechless rage which, had it +been of iron, would have dashed him to pieces, and throwing back his +cloak to disclose his orders and chain, stepped up to the knacker and +asked if those were the black horses which the shepherd at Wilsdruf +had gained possession of, and for which Squire Wenzel Tronka, to whom +they belonged, had made requisition through the magistrate of that +place. + +The knacker who, with a pail of water in his hand, was busy watering a +fat, sturdy horse that was drawing his cart asked--"The blacks?" Then +he put down the pail, took the bit out of the horse's mouth, and +explained that the black horses which were tied to the tailboard of +the cart had been sold to him by the swineherd in Hainichen; where the +latter had obtained them and whether they came from the shepherd at +Wilsdruf--that he did not know. "He had been told," he continued, +taking up the pail again and propping it between the pole of the cart +and his knee "he had been told by the messenger of the court at +Wilsdruf to take the horses to the house of the Tronkas in Dresden, +but the Squire to whom he had been directed was named Kunz." With +these words he turned around with the rest of the water which the +horse had left in the pail, and emptied it out on the pavement. The +Chamberlain, who was beset by the stares of the laughing, jeering +crowd and could not induce the fellow, who was attending to his +business with phlegmatic zeal, to look at him, said that he was the +Chamberlain Kunz Tronka. The black horses, however, which he was to +get possession of, had to be those belonging to the Squire, his +cousin; they must have been given to the shepherd at Wilsdruf by a +stable-man who had run away from Tronka Castle at the time of the +fire; moreover, they must be the two horses that originally had +belonged to the horse-dealer Kohlhaas. He asked the fellow, who was +standing there with his legs apart, pulling up his trousers, whether +he did not know something about all this. Had not the swineherd of +Hainichen, he went on, perhaps purchased these horses from the +shepherd at Wilsdruf, or from a third person, who in turn had bought +them from the latter?--for everything depended on this circumstance. + +The knacker replied that he had been ordered to go with the black +horses to Dresden and was to receive the money for them in the house +of the Tronkas. He did not understand what the Squire was talking +about, and whether it was Peter or Paul, or the shepherd in Wilsdruf, +who had owned them before the swineherd in Hainichen, was all one to +him so long as they had not been stolen; and with this he went off, +with his whip across his broad back, to a public house which stood in +the square, with the intention of getting some breakfast, as he was +very hungry. + +The Chamberlain, who for the life of him didn't know what he should do +with the horses which the swineherd of Hainichen had sold to the +knacker of Döbeln, unless they were those on which the devil was +riding through Saxony, asked the Squire to say something; but when +the latter with white, trembling lips replied that it would be +advisable to buy the black horses whether they belonged to Kohlhaas or +not, the Chamberlain, cursing the father and mother who had given +birth to the Squire, stepped aside out of the crowd and threw back his +cloak, absolutely at a loss to know what he should do or leave undone. +Defiantly determined not to leave the square just because the rabble +were staring at him derisively and with their handkerchiefs pressed +tight over their mouths seemed to be waiting only for him to depart +before bursting out into laughter, he called to Baron Wenk, an +acquaintance who happened to be riding by, and begged him to stop at +the house of the Lord High Chancellor, Count Wrede, and through the +latter's instrumentality to have Kohlhaas brought there to look at the +black horses. + +When the Baron, intent upon this errand, entered the chamber of the +Lord High Chancellor, it so happened that Kohlhaas was just then +present, having been summoned by a messenger of the court to give +certain explanations of which they stood in need concerning the +deposit in Lützen. While the Chancellor, with an annoyed look, rose +from his chair and asked the horse-dealer, whose person was unknown to +the Baron, to step to one side with his papers, the latter informed +him of the dilemma in which the lords Tronka found themselves. He +explained that the knacker from Döbeln, acting on a defective +requisition from the court at Wilsdruf, had appeared with horses whose +condition was so frightful that Squire Wenzel could not help +hesitating to pronounce them the ones belonging to Kohlhaas. In case +they were to be taken from the knacker not-withstanding, and an +attempt made to restore them to good condition in the stables of the +knights, an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas would first be necessary in +order to establish the aforesaid circumstance beyond doubt. "Will you +therefore have the goodness," he concluded, "to have a guard fetch the +horse-dealer from his house and conduct him to the market-place where +the horses are standing?" The Lord High Chancellor, taking his glasses +from his nose, said that the Baron was laboring under a double +delusion--first, in thinking that the fact in question could be +ascertained only by means of an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas, and +then, in imagining that he, the Chancellor, possessed the authority to +have Kohlhaas taken by a guard wherever the Squire happened to wish. +With this he presented to him Kohlhaas who was standing behind him, +and sitting down and putting on his glasses again, begged him to apply +to the horse-dealer himself in the matter. + +Kohlhaas, whose expression gave no hint of what was going on in his +mind, said that he was ready to follow the Baron to the market-place +and inspect the black horses which the knacker had brought to the +city. As the disconcerted Baron faced around toward him, Kohlhaas +stepped up to the table of the Chancellor, and, after taking time to +explain to him, with the help of the papers in his wallet, several +matters concerning the deposit in Lützen, took his leave. The Baron, +who had walked over to the window, his face suffused with a deep +blush, likewise made his adieux, and both, escorted by the three +foot-soldiers assigned by the Prince of Meissen, took their way to the +Palace square attended by a great crowd of people. + +In the mean time the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, in spite of the protests +of several friends who had joined him, had stood his ground among the +people, opposite the knacker of Döbeln. As soon as the Baron and the +horse-dealer appeared he went up to the latter and, holding his sword +proudly and ostentatiously under his arm, asked if the horses standing +behind the wagon were his. + +The horse-dealer, turning modestly toward the gentleman who had asked +him the question and who was unknown to him, touched his hat; then, +without answering, he walked toward the knacker's cart, surrounded by +all the knights. The animals were standing there on unsteady legs, +with heads bowed down to the ground, making no attempt to eat the hay +which the knacker had placed before them. Kohlhaas stopped a dozen +feet away, and after a hasty glance turned back again to the +Chamberlain, saying, "My lord, the knacker is quite right; the horses +which are fastened to his cart belong to me!" As he spoke he looked +around at the whole circle of knights, touched his hat once more, and +left the square, accompanied by his guard. + +At these words the Chamberlain, with a hasty step that made the plume +of his helmet tremble, strode up to the knacker and threw him a purse +full of money. And while the latter, holding the purse in his hand, +combed the hair back from his forehead with a leaden comb and stared +at the money, Sir Kunz ordered a groom to untie the horses and lead +them home. The groom, at the summons of his master, left a group of +his friends and relatives among the crowd; his face flushed slightly, +but he did, nevertheless, go up to the horses, stepping over a big +puddle that had formed at their feet. No sooner, however, had he taken +hold of the halter to untie them, than Master Himboldt, his cousin, +seized him by the arm, and with the words, "You shan't touch the +knacker's jades!" hurled him away from the cart. Then, stepping back +unsteadily over the puddle, the Master turned toward the Chamberlain, +who was standing there, speechless with astonishment at this incident, +and added that he must get a knacker's man to do him such a service as +that. The Chamberlain, foaming with rage, stared at Master Himboldt +for a moment, then turned about and, over the heads of the knights who +surrounded him, called for the guard. When, in obedience to the orders +of Baron Wenk, an officer with some of the Elector's bodyguards had +arrived from the palace, Sir Kunz gave him a short account of the +shameful way in which the burghers of the city permitted themselves to +instigate revolt, and called upon the officer to place the ringleader, +Master Himboldt, under arrest. Seizing the Master by the chest, the +Chamberlain accused him of having maltreated and thrust away from the +cart the groom who, at his orders, was unhitching the black horses. +The Master, freeing himself from the Chamberlain's grasp with a +skilful twist which forced the latter to step back, cried, "My lord, +showing a boy of twenty what he ought to do is not instigating him to +revolt! Ask him whether, contrary to all that is customary and decent, +he cares to have anything to do with those horses that are tied to the +cart. If he wants to do it after what I have said, well and good. For +all I care, he may flay and skin them now." + +At these words the Chamberlain turned round to the groom and asked him +if he had any scruples about fulfilling his command to untie the +horses which belonged to Kohlhaas and lead them home. When the groom, +stepping back among the citizens, answered timidly that the horses +must be made honorable once more before that could be expected of him, +the Chamberlain followed him, tore from the young man's head the hat +which was decorated with the badge of his house, and, after trampling +it under his feet, drew his sword and with furious blows drove the +groom instantly from the square and from his service. Master Himboldt +cried, "Down with the bloodthirsty madman, friends!" And while the +citizens, outraged at this scene, crowded together and forced back the +guard, he came up behind the Chamberlain and threw him down, tore off +his cloak, collar, and helmet, wrenched the sword from his hand, and +dashed it with a furious fling far away across the square. + +In vain did the Squire Wenzel, as he worked his way out of the crowd, +call to the knights to go to his cousin's aid; even before they had +started to rescue him, they had been so scattered by the rush of the +mob that the Chamberlain, who in falling had injured his head, was +exposed to the full wrath of the crowd. The only thing that saved him +was the appearance of a troop of mounted soldiers who chanced to be +crossing the square, and whom the officer of the Elector's body-guards +called to his assistance. The officer, after dispersing the crowd, +seized the furious Master Himboldt, and, while some of the troopers +bore him off to prison, two friends picked up the unfortunate +Chamberlain, who was covered with blood, and carried him home. + +Such was the unfortunate outcome of the well-meant and honest attempt +to procure the horse-dealer satisfaction for the injustice that had +been committed against him. The knacker of Döbeln, whose business was +concluded, and who did not wish to delay any longer, tied the horses +to a lamppost, since the crowd was beginning to scatter, and there +they remained the whole day through without any one's bothering about +them, an object of mockery for the street-arabs and loafers. Finally, +since they lacked any sort of care and attention, the police were +obliged to take them in hand, and, toward evening, the knacker of +Dresden was called to carry them off to the knacker's house outside +the city to await further instructions. + +This incident, as little as the horse-dealer was in reality to blame +for it, nevertheless awakened throughout the country, even among the +more moderate and better class of people, a sentiment extremely +dangerous to the success of his lawsuit. The relation of this man to +the state was felt to be quite intolerable and, in private houses as +well as in public places, the opinion gained ground that it would be +better to commit an open injustice against him and quash the whole +lawsuit anew, rather than, for the mere sake of satisfying his mad +obstinacy, to accord him in so trivial a matter justice which he had +wrung from them by deeds of violence. + +To complete the ruin of poor Kohlhaas, it was the Lord High Chancellor +himself, animated by too great probity, and a consequent hatred of the +Tronka family, who helped strengthen and spread this sentiment. It was +highly improbable that the horses, which were now being cared for by +the knacker of Dresden, would ever be restored to the condition they +were in when they left the stables at Kohlhaasenbrück. However, +granted that this might be possible by skilful and constant care, +nevertheless the disgrace which, as a result of the existing +circumstances, had fallen upon the Squire's family was so great that, +in consideration of the political importance which the house +possessed--being, as it was, one of the oldest and noblest families in +the land--nothing seemed more just and expedient than to arrange a +money indemnity for the horses. In spite of this, a few days later, +when the President, Count Kallheim, in the name of the Chamberlain, +who was deterred by his sickness, sent a letter to the Chancellor +containing this proposition, the latter did indeed send a +communication to Kohlhaas in which he admonished him not to decline +such a proposition should it be made to him; but in a short and rather +curt answer to the President himself the Chancellor begged him not to +bother him with private commissions in this matter and advised the +Chamberlain to apply to the horse-dealer himself, whom he described as +a very just and modest man. The horse-dealer, whose will was, in fact, +broken by the incident which had occurred in the market-place, was, in +conformity with the advice of the Lord Chancellor, only waiting for an +overture on the part of the Squire or his relatives in order to meet +them half-way with perfect willingness and forgiveness for all that +had happened; but to make this overture entailed too great a sacrifice +of dignity on the part of the proud knights. Very much incensed by the +answer they had received from the Lord Chancellor, they showed the +same to the Elector, who on the morning of the following day had +visited the Chamberlain in his room where he was confined to his bed +with his wounds. + +In a voice rendered weak and pathetic by his condition, the +Chamberlain asked the Elector whether, after risking his life to +settle this affair according to his sovereign's wishes, he must also +expose his honor to the censure of the world and to appear with a +request for relenting and compromise before a man who had brought +every imaginable shame and disgrace on him and his family. + +The Elector, after having read the letter, asked Count Kallheim in an +embarrassed way whether, without further communication with Kohlhaas, +the Tribunal were not authorized to base its decision on the fact that +the horses could not be restored to their original condition, and in +conformity therewith to draw up the judgment just as if the horses +were dead, on the sole basis of a money indemnity. + +The Count answered, "Most gracious sovereign, they are dead; they are +dead in the sight of the law because they have no value, and they will +be so physically before they can be brought from the knacker's house +to the knights' stables." To this the Elector, putting the letter in +his pocket, replied that he would himself speak to the Lord Chancellor +about it. He spoke soothingly to the Chamberlain, who raised himself +on his elbow and seized his hand in gratitude, and, after lingering a +moment to urge him to take care of his health, rose with a very +gracious air and left the room. + +Thus stood affairs in Dresden, when from the direction of Lützen there +gathered over poor Kohlhaas another thunder-storm, even more serious, +whose lightning-flash the crafty knights were clever enough to draw +down upon the horse-dealer's unlucky head. It so happened that one of +the band of men that Kohlhaas had collected and turned off again after +the appearance of the electoral amnesty, Johannes Nagelschmidt by +name, had found it expedient, some weeks later, to muster again on the +Bohemian frontier a part of this rabble which was ready to take part +in any infamy, and to continue on his own account the profession on +the track of which Kohlhaas had put him. This good-for-nothing fellow +called himself a vicegerent of Kohlhaas, partly to inspire with fear +the officers of the law who were after him, and partly, by the use of +familiar methods, to beguile the country people into participating in +his rascalities. With a cleverness which he had learned from his +master, he had it noised abroad that the amnesty had not been kept in +the case of several men who had quietly returned to their +homes--indeed that Kohlhaas himself had, with a faithlessness which +cried aloud to heaven, been arrested on his arrival in Dresden and +placed under a guard. He carried it so far that, in manifestos which +were very similar to those of Kohlhaas, his incendiary band appeared +as an army raised solely for the glory of God and meant to watch over +the observance of the amnesty promised by the Elector. All this, as we +have already said, was done by no means for the glory of God nor out +of attachment for Kohlhaas, whose fate was a matter of absolute +indifference to the outlaws, but in order to enable them, under cover +of such dissimulation, to burn and plunder with the greater ease and +impunity. + +When the first news of this reached Dresden the knights could not +conceal their joy over the occurrence, which lent an entirely +different aspect to the whole matter. With wise and displeased +allusions they recalled the mistake which had been made when, in spite +of their urgent and repeated warnings, an amnesty had been granted +Kohlhaas, as if those who had been in favor of it had had the +deliberate intention of giving to miscreants of all kinds the signal +to follow in his footsteps. Not content with crediting Nagelschmidt's +pretext that he had taken up arms merely to lend support and security +to his oppressed master, they even expressed the decided opinion that +his whole course was nothing but an enterprise contrived by Kohlhaas +in order to frighten the government, and to hasten and insure the +rendering of a verdict, which, point for point, should satisfy his mad +obstinacy. Indeed the Cup-bearer, Sir Hinz, went so far as to declare +to some hunting-pages and courtiers who had gathered round him after +dinner in the Elector's antechamber that the breaking up of the +marauding band in Lützen had been but a cursed pretense. He was very +merry over the Lord High Chancellor's alleged love of justice; by +cleverly connecting various circumstances he proved that the band was +still extant in the forests of the Electorate and was only waiting for +a signal from the horse-dealer to break out anew with fire and sword. + +Prince Christiern of Meissen, very much displeased at this turn in +affairs, which threatened to fleck his sovereign's honor in the most +painful manner, went immediately to the palace to confer with the +Elector. He saw quite clearly that it would be to the interest of the +knights to ruin Kohlhaas, if possible, on the ground of new crimes, +and he begged the Elector to give him permission to have an immediate +judicial examination of the horse-dealer. Kohlhaas, somewhat +astonished at being conducted to the Government Office by a constable, +appeared with his two little boys, Henry and Leopold, in his arms; for +Sternbald, his servant, had arrived the day before with his five +children from Mecklenburg, where they had been staying. When Kohlhaas +had started to leave for the Government Office the two boys had burst +into childish tears, begging him to take them along, and various +considerations too intricate to unravel made him decide to pick them +up and carry them with him to the hearing. Kohlhaas placed the +children beside him, and the Prince, after looking benevolently at +them and asking, with friendly interest, their names and ages, went on +to inform Kohlhaas what liberties Nagelschmidt, his former follower, +was taking in the valleys of the Ore Mountains, and handing him the +latter's so-called mandates he told him to produce whatever he had to +offer for his vindication. Although the horse-dealer was deeply +alarmed by these shameful and traitorous papers, he nevertheless had +little difficulty in explaining satisfactorily to so upright a man as +the Prince the groundlessness of the accusations brought against him +on this score. Besides the fact that, so far as he could observe, he +did not, as the matter now stood, need any help as yet from a third +person in bringing about the decision of his lawsuit, which was +proceeding most favorably, some papers which he had with him and +showed to the Prince made it appear highly improbable that +Nagelschmidt should be inclined to render him help of that sort, for, +shortly before the dispersion of the band in Lützen, he had been on +the point of having the fellow hanged for a rape committed in the +open country, and other rascalities. Only the appearance of the +electoral amnesty had saved Nagelschmidt, as it had severed all +relations between them, and on the next day they had parted as mortal +enemies. + +Kohlhaas, with the Prince's approval of the idea, sat down and wrote a +letter to Nagelschmidt in which he declared that the latter's pretense +of having taken the field in order to maintain the amnesty which had +been violated with regard to him and his band, was a disgraceful and +vicious fabrication. He told him that, on his arrival in Dresden, he +had neither been imprisoned nor handed over to a guard, also that his +lawsuit was progressing exactly as he wished, and, as a warning for +the rabble who had gathered around Nagelschmidt, he gave him over to +the full vengeance of the law for the outrages which he had committed +in the Ore Mountains after the publication of the amnesty. Some +portions of the criminal prosecution which the horse-dealer had +instituted against him in the castle at Lützen on account of the +above-mentioned disgraceful acts, were also appended to the letter to +enlighten the people concerning the good-for-nothing fellow, who even +at that time had been destined for the gallows, and, as already +stated, had only been saved by the edict issued by the Elector. In +consequence of this letter the Prince appeased Kohlhaas' displeasure +at the suspicion which, of necessity, they had been obliged to express +in this hearing; he went on to declare that, while he remained in +Dresden, the amnesty granted him should not be violated in any way; +then, after presenting to the boys some fruit that was on his table, +he shook hands with them once more, saluted Kohlhaas, and dismissed +him. + +The Lord High Chancellor, who nevertheless recognized the danger that +was threatening the horse-dealer, did his utmost to bring his lawsuit +to an end before it should be complicated and confused by new +developments; this, however, was exactly what the diplomatic knights +desired and aimed at. Instead of silently acknowledging their guilt, +as at first, and obtaining merely a less severe sentence, they now +began with pettifogging and crafty subterfuges to deny this guilt +itself entirely. Sometimes they pretended that the black horses +belonging to Kohlhaas had been detained at Tronka Castle on the +arbitrary authority of the castellan and the steward, and that the +Squire had known little, if anything, of their actions. At other times +they declared that, even on their arrival at the castle, the animals +had been suffering from a violent and dangerous cough, and, in +confirmation of the fact, they referred to witnesses whom they pledged +themselves to produce. Forced to withdraw these arguments after many +long-drawn-out investigations and explanations, they even cited an +electoral edict of twelve years before, in which the importation of +horses from Brandenburg into Saxony had actually been forbidden, on +account of a plague among the cattle. This circumstance, according to +them, made it as clear as day that the Squire not only had the +authority, but also was under obligation, to hold up the horses that +Kohlhaas had brought across the border. Kohlhaas, meanwhile, had +bought back his farm at Kohlhaasenbrück from the honest bailiff, in +return for a small compensation for the loss sustained. He wished, +apparently in connection with the legal settlement of this business, +to leave Dresden for some days and return to his home, in which +determination, however, the above-mentioned matter of business, +imperative as it may actually have been on account of sowing the +winter crops, undoubtedly played less part than the intention of +testing his position under such unusual and critical circumstances. He +may perhaps also have been influenced by reasons of still another kind +which we will leave to every one who is acquainted with his own heart +to divine. + +In pursuance of this resolve he betook himself to the Lord Chancellor, +leaving behind the guard which had been assigned to him. He carried +with him the letters from the bailiff, and explained that if, as +seemed to be the case, he were not urgently needed in court, he would +like to leave the city and go to Brandenburg for a week or ten days, +within which time he promised to be back again. The Lord High +Chancellor, looking down with a displeased and dubious expression, +replied that he must acknowledge that Kohlhaas' presence was more +necessary just then than ever, as the court, on account of the +prevaricating and tricky tactics of the opposition, required his +statements and explanations at a thousand points that could not be +foreseen. However, when Kohlhaas referred him to his lawyer, who was +well informed concerning the lawsuit, and with modest importunity +persisted in his request, promising to confine his absence to a week, +the Lord Chancellor, after a pause, said briefly, as he dismissed him, +that he hoped that Kohlhaas would apply to Prince Christiern of +Meissen for passports. + +Kohlhaas, who could read the Lord Chancellor's face perfectly, was +only strengthened in his determination. He sat down immediately and, +without giving any reason, asked the Prince of Meissen, as head of the +Government Office, to furnish him passports for a week's journey to +Kohlhaasenbrück and back. In reply to this letter he received a +cabinet order signed by the Governor of the Palace, Baron Siegfried +Wenk, to the effect that his request for passports to Kohlhaasenbrück +would be laid before his serene highness the Elector, and as soon as +his gracious consent had been received the passports would be sent to +him. When Kohlhaas inquired of his lawyer how the cabinet order came +to be signed by a certain Baron, Siegfried Wenk, and not by Prince +Christiern of Meissen to whom he had applied, he was told that the +Prince had set out for his estates three days before, and during his +absence the affairs of the Government Office had been put in the hands +of the Governor of the Palace, Baron Siegfried Wenk, a cousin of the +gentleman of the same name who has been already mentioned. + +Kohlhaas, whose heart was beginning to beat uneasily amid all these +complications, waited several days for the decision concerning his +petition which had been laid before the person of the sovereign with +such a surprising amount of formality. A week passed, however, and +more than a week, without the arrival of this decision; nor had +judgment been pronounced by the Tribunal, although it had been +definitely promised him. Finally, on the twelfth day, Kohlhaas, firmly +resolved to force the government to proclaim its intentions toward +him, let them be what they would, sat down and, in an urgent request, +once more asked the Government Office for the desired passports. On +the evening of the following day, which had likewise passed without +the expected answer, he was walking up and down, thoughtfully +considering his position and especially the amnesty procured for him +by Dr. Luther, when, on approaching the window of his little back +room, he was astonished not to see the soldiers in the little +out-building on the courtyard which he had designated as quarters for +the guard assigned him by the Prince of Meissen at the time of his +arrival. He called Thomas, the old porter, to him and asked what it +meant. The latter answered with a sigh, "Sir, something is wrong! The +soldiers, of whom there are more today than usual, distributed +themselves around the whole house when it began to grow dark; two with +shield and spear are standing in the street before the front door, two +are at the back door in the garden, and two others are lying on a +truss of straw in the vestibule and say that they are going to sleep +there." + +Kohlhaas grew pale and turned away, adding that it really did not +matter, provided they were still there, and that when Thomas went down +into the corridor he should place a light so that the soldiers could +see. Then he opened the shutter of the front window under the pretext +of emptying a vessel, and convinced himself of the truth of the +circumstance of which the old man had informed him, for just at that +moment the guard was actually being changed without a sound, a +precaution which had never before entered any one's head as long as +the arrangement had existed. After which, Kohlhaas, having made up his +mind immediately what he would do on the morrow, went to bed, though, +to be sure, he felt little desire to sleep. For nothing in the course +of the government with which he was dealing displeased him more than +this outward form of justice, while in reality it was violating in his +case the amnesty promised him, and in case he were to be considered +really a prisoner--as could no longer be doubted--he intended to wring +from the government the definite and straightforward statement that +such was the case. + +In accordance with this plan, at earliest dawn he had Sternbald, his +groom, harness his wagon and drive up to the door, intending, as he +explained, to drive to Lockwitz to see the steward, an old +acquaintance of his, who had met him a few days before in Dresden and +had invited him and his children to visit him some time. The soldiers, +who, putting their heads together, had watched the stir which these +preparations were causing in the household, secretly sent off one of +their number to the city and, a few minutes later, a government clerk +appeared at the head of several constables and went into the house +opposite, pretending to have some business there. Kohlhaas, who was +occupied in dressing his boys, likewise noticed the commotion and +intentionally kept the wagon waiting in front of the house longer than +was really necessary. As soon as he saw that the arrangements of the +police were completed, without paying any attention to them he came +out before the house with his children. He said, in passing, to the +group of soldiers standing in the doorway that they did not need to +follow him; then he lifted the boys into the wagon and kissed and +comforted the weeping little girls who, in obedience to his orders, +were to remain behind with the daughter of the old porter. He had no +sooner climbed up on the wagon himself than the government clerk, with +the constables who accompanied him, stepped up from the opposite +house and asked where he was going. To the answer of Kohlhaas that he +was going to Lockwitz to see his friend, the steward, who a few days +before had invited him and his two boys to visit him in the country, +the clerk replied that in that case Kohlhaas must wait a few moments, +as some mounted soldiers would accompany him in obedience to the order +of the Prince of Meissen. From his seat on the wagon Kohlhaas asked +smilingly whether he thought that his life would not be safe in the +house of a friend who had offered to entertain him at his table for a +day. + +The official answered in a pleasant, joking way that the danger was +certainly not very great, adding that the soldiers were not to +incommode him in any way. Kohlhaas replied, seriously, that on his +arrival in Dresden the Prince of Meissen had left it to his own choice +whether he would make use of the guard or not, and as the clerk seemed +surprised at this circumstance and with carefully chosen phrases +reminded him that he had employed the guard during the whole time of +his presence in the city, the horse-dealer related to him the incident +which had led to the placing of the soldiers in his house. The clerk +assured him that the orders of the Governor of the Palace, Baron Wenk, +who was at that moment head of the police force, made it his duty to +watch over Kohlhaas' person continually, and begged him, if he would +not consent to the escort, to go to the Government Office himself so +as to correct the mistake which must exist in the matter. Kohlhaas +threw a significant glance at the clerk and, determined to put an end +to the matter by hook or by crook, said that he would do so. With a +beating heart he got down from the wagon, had the porter carry the +children back into the corridor, and while his servant remained before +the house with the wagon, Kohlhaas went off to the Government Office, +accompanied by the clerk and his guard. + +It happened that the Governor of the Palace, Baron Wenk, was busy at +the moment inspecting a band of Nagelschmidt's followers who had been +captured in the neighborhood of Leipzig and brought to Dresden the +previous evening. The knights who were with the Governor were just +questioning the fellows about a great many things which the government +was anxious to learn from them, when the horse-dealer entered the room +with his escort. The Baron, as soon as he caught sight of Kohlhaas, +went up to him and asked him what he wanted, while the knights grew +suddenly silent and interrupted the interrogation of the prisoners. +When Kohlhaas had respectfully submitted to him his purpose of going +to dine with the steward at Lockwitz, and expressed the wish to be +allowed to leave behind the soldiers of whom he had no need, the +Baron, changing color and seeming to swallow some words of a different +nature, answered that Kohlhaas would do well to stay quietly at home +and to postpone for the present the feast at the Lockwitz steward's. +With that he turned to the clerk, thus cutting short the whole +conversation, and told him that the order which he had given him with +regard to this man held good, and that the latter must not leave the +city unless accompanied by six mounted soldiers. + +Kohlhaas asked whether he were a prisoner, and whether he should +consider that the amnesty which had been solemnly promised to him +before the eyes of the whole world had been broken. At which the +Baron, his face turning suddenly a fiery red, wheeled around and, +stepping close up to him and looking him in the eyes, answered, "Yes! +Yes! Yes!" Then he turned his back upon him and, leaving Kohlhaas +standing there, returned to Nagelschmidt's followers. + +At this Kohlhaas left the room, and although he realized that the +steps he had taken had rendered much more difficult the only means of +rescue that remained, namely, flight, he nevertheless was glad he had +done as he had, since he was now, on his part, likewise released from +obligation to observe the conditions of the amnesty. When he reached +home he had the horses unharnessed, and, very sad and shaken, went to +his room accompanied by the government clerk. While this man, in a way +which aroused the horse-dealer's disgust, assured him that it must all +be due to a misunderstanding which would shortly be cleared up, the +constables, at a sign from him, bolted all the exits which led from +the house into the courtyard. At the same time the clerk assured +Kohlhaas that the main entrance at the front of the house still +remained open and that he could use it as he pleased. + +Nagelschmidt, meanwhile, had been so hard pushed on all sides by +constables and soldiers in the woods of the Ore Mountains, that, +entirely deprived, as he was, of the necessary means of carrying +through a rôle of the kind which he had undertaken, he hit upon the +idea of inducing Kohlhaas to take sides with him in reality. As a +traveler passing that way had informed him fairly accurately of the +status of Kohlhaas' lawsuit in Dresden, he believed that, in spite of +the open enmity which existed between them, he could persuade the +horse-dealer to enter into a new alliance with him. He therefore sent +off one of his men to him with a letter, written in almost unreadable +German, to the effect that if he would come to Altenburg and resume +command of the band which had gathered there from the remnants of his +former troops who had been dispersed, he, Nagelschmidt, was ready to +assist him to escape from his imprisonment in Dresden by furnishing +him with horses, men, and money. At the same time he promised Kohlhaas +that, in the future, he would be more obedient and in general better +and more orderly than he had been before; and to prove his +faithfulness and devotion he pledged himself to come in person to the +outskirts of Dresden in order to effect Kohlhaas' deliverance from his +prison. + +The fellow charged with delivering this letter had the bad luck, in a +village close to Dresden, to be seized with a violent fit, such as he +had been subject to from childhood. In this situation, the letter +which he was carrying in his vest was found by the persons who came to +his assistance; the man himself, as soon as he had recovered, was +arrested and transported to the Government Office under guard, +accompanied by a large crowd of people. As soon as the Governor of the +Palace, Wenk, had read this letter, he went immediately to the palace +to see the Elector; here he found present also the President of the +Chancery of State, Count Kallheim, and the lords Kunz and Hinz, the +former of whom had recovered from his wounds. These gentlemen were of +the opinion that Kohlhaas should be arrested without delay and brought +to trial on the charge of secret complicity with Nagelschmidt. They +went on to demonstrate that such a letter could not have been written +unless there had been preceding letters written by the horse-dealer, +too, and that it would inevitably result in a wicked and criminal +union of their forces for the purpose of plotting fresh iniquities. + +The Elector steadfastly refused to violate, merely on the ground of +this letter, the safe-conduct he had solemnly promised to Kohlhaas. He +was more inclined to believe that Nagelschmidt's letter made it rather +probable that no previous connection had existed between them, and all +he would do to clear up the matter was to assent, though only after +long hesitation, to the President's proposition to have the letter +delivered to Kohlhaas by the man whom Nagelschmidt had sent, just as +though he had not been arrested, and see whether Kohlhaas would answer +it. In accordance with this plan the man, who had been thrown into +prison, was taken to the Government Office the next morning. The +Governor of the Palace gave him back the letter and, promising him +freedom and the remission of the punishment which he had incurred, +commanded him to deliver the letter to the horse-dealer as though +nothing had happened. As was to be expected, the fellow lent himself +to this low trick without hesitation. In apparently mysterious fashion +he gained admission to Kohlhaas' room under the pretext of having +crabs to sell, with which, in reality, the government clerk had +supplied him in the market. Kohlhaas, who read the letter while the +children were playing with the crabs, would certainly have seized the +imposter by the collar and handed him over to the soldiers standing +before his door, had the circumstances been other than they were. But +since, in the existing state of men's minds, even this step was +likewise capable of an equivocal interpretation, and as he was fully +convinced that nothing in the world could rescue him from the affair +in which he was entangled, be gazed sadly into the familiar face of +the fellow, asked him where he lived, and bade him return in a few +hours' time, when he would inform him of his decision in regard to his +master. He told Sternbald, who happened to enter the door, to buy some +crabs from the man in the room, and when this business was concluded +and both men had gone away without recognizing each other, Kohlhaas +sat down and wrote a letter to Nagelschmidt to the following effect: +"First, that he accepted his proposition concerning the leadership of +his band in Altenburg, and that accordingly, in order to free him from +the present arrest in which he was held with his five children, +Nagelschmidt should send him a wagon with two horses to Neustadt near +Dresden. Also that, to facilitate progress, he would need another team +of two horses on the road to Wittenberg, which way, though roundabout, +was the only one he could take to come to him, for reasons which it +would require too much time to explain. He thought that he would be +able to win over by bribery the soldiers who were guarding him, but in +case force were necessary he would like to know that he could count on +the presence of a couple of stout-hearted, capable, and well-armed men +in the suburb of Neustadt. To defray the expenses connected with all +these preparations, he was sending Nagelschmidt by his follower a roll +of twenty gold crowns concerning the expenditure of which he would +settle with him after the affair was concluded. For the rest, +Nagelschmidt's presence being unnecessary, he would ask him not to +come in person to Dresden to assist at his rescue--nay, rather, he +gave him the definite order to remain behind in Altenburg in +provisional command of the band which could not be left without a +leader." + +When the man returned toward evening, he delivered this letter to him, +rewarded him liberally, and impressed upon him that he must take good +care of it. + +Kohlhaas' intention was to go to Hamburg with his five children and +there to take ship for the Levant, the East Indies, or the most +distant land where the blue sky stretched above people other than +those he knew. For his heart, bowed down by grief, had renounced the +hope of ever seeing the black horses fattened, even apart from the +reluctance that he felt in making common cause with Nagelschmidt to +that end. + +Hardly had the fellow delivered this answer of the horse-dealer's to +the Governor of the Palace when the Lord High Chancellor was deposed, +the President, Count Kallheim, was appointed Chief Justice of the +Tribunal in his stead, and Kohlhaas was arrested by a special order of +the Elector, heavily loaded with chains, and thrown into the city +tower. He was brought to trial upon the basis of this letter, which +was posted at every street-corner of the city. When a councilor held +it up before Kohlhaas at the bar of the Tribunal and asked whether he +acknowledged the handwriting, he answered, "Yes;" but to the question +as to whether he had anything to say in his defense, he looked down at +the ground and replied, "No." He was therefore condemned to be +tortured with red-hot pincers by knacker's men, to be drawn and +quartered, and his body to be burned between the wheel and the +gallows. + +Thus stood matters with poor Kohlhaas in Dresden when the Elector of +Brandenburg appeared to rescue him from the clutches of arbitrary, +superior power, and, in a note laid before the Chancery of State in +Dresden, claimed him as a subject of Brandenburg. For the honest City +Governor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, during a walk on the banks of the +Spree, had acquainted the Elector with the story of this strange and +irreprehensible man, on which occasion, pressed by the questions of +the astonished sovereign, he could not avoid mentioning the blame +which lay heavy upon the latter's own person through the unwarranted +actions of his Arch-Chancellor, Count Siegfried von Kallheim. The +Elector was extremely indignant about the matter and after he had +called the Arch-Chancellor to account and found that the relationship +which he bore to the house of the Tronkas was to blame for it all, he +deposed Count Kallheim at once, with more than one token of his +displeasure, and appointed Sir Heinrich von Geusau to be +Arch-Chancellor in his stead. + +Now it so happened that, just at that time, the King of Poland, being +at odds with the House of Saxony, for what occasion we do not know, +approached the Elector of Brandenburg with repeated and urgent +arguments to induce him to make common cause with them against the +House of Saxony, and, in consequence of this, the Arch-Chancellor, Sir +Geusau, who was not unskilful in such matters, might very well hope +that, without imperiling the peace of the whole state to a greater +extent than consideration for an individual warrants, he would now be +able to fulfil his sovereign's desire to secure justice for Kohlhaas +at any cost whatever. + +Therefore the Arch-Chancellor did not content himself with demanding, +on the score of wholly arbitrary procedure, displeasing to God and +man, that Kohlhaas should be unconditionally and immediately surrendered, +so that, if guilty of a crime, he might be tried according to the laws +of Brandenburg on charges which the Dresden Court might bring against him +through an attorney at Berlin; but Sir Heinrich von Geusau even went so +far as himself to demand passports for an attorney whom the Elector of +Brandenburg wished to send to Dresden in order to secure justice for +Kohlhaas against Squire Wenzel Tronka on account of the black horses +which had been taken from him on Saxon territory and other flagrant +instances of ill-usage and acts of violence. The Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, +in the shifting of public offices in Saxony, had been appointed President +of the State Chancery, and, hard pressed as he was, desired, for a +variety of reasons, not to offend the Court of Berlin. He therefore +answered in the name of his sovereign, who had been very greatly cast +down by the note he had received, that they wondered at the unfriendliness +and unreasonableness which had prompted the government of Brandenburg to +contest the right of the Dresden Court to judge Kohlhaas according to +their laws for the crimes which he had committed in the land, as it was +known to all the world that the latter owned a considerable piece of +property in the capital, and he did not himself dispute his qualification +as a Saxon citizen. + +But as the King of Poland was already assembling an army of five +thousand men on the frontier of Saxony to fight for his claims, and as +the Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, declared that +Kohlhaasenbrück, the place after which the horse-dealer was named, was +situated in Brandenburg, and that they would consider the execution of +the sentence of death which had been pronounced upon him to be a +violation of international law, the Elector of Saxony, upon the advice +of the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz himself, who wished to back out of the +affair, summoned Prince Christiern of Meissen from his estate, and +decided, after a few words with this sagacious nobleman, to surrender +Kohlhaas to the Court of Berlin in accordance with their demand. + +The Prince, who, although very much displeased with the unseemly +blunders which had been committed, was forced to take over the conduct +of the Kohlhaas affair at the wish of his hard-pressed master, asked +the Elector what charge he now wished to have lodged against the +horse-dealer in the Supreme Court at Berlin. As they could not refer +to Kohlhaas' fatal letter to Nagelschmidt because of the questionable +and obscure circumstances under which it had been written, nor +mention the former plundering and burning because of the edict in +which the same had been pardoned, the Elector determined to lay before +the Emperor's Majesty at Vienna a report concerning the armed invasion +of Saxony by Kohlhaas, to make complaint concerning the violation of +the public peace established by the Emperor, and to solicit His +Majesty, since he was of course not bound by any amnesty, to call +Kohlhaas to account therefor before the Court Tribunal at Berlin +through an attorney of the Empire. + +A week later the horse-dealer, still in chains, was packed into a +wagon by the Knight Friedrich of Malzahn, whom the Elector of +Brandenburg had sent to Dresden at the head of six troopers; and, +together with his five children, who at his request had been collected +from various foundling hospitals and orphan asylums, was transported +to Berlin. + +It so happened that the Elector of Saxony, accompanied by the +Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, and his wife, Lady Heloise, daughter of the +High Bailiff and sister of the President, not to mention other +brilliant ladies and gentlemen, hunting-pages and courtiers, had gone +to Dahme at the invitation of the High Bailiff, Count Aloysius of +Kallheim, who at that time possessed a large estate on the border of +Saxony, and, to entertain the Elector, had organized a large stag-hunt +there. Under the shelter of tents gaily decorated with pennons, +erected on a hill over against the highroad, the whole company, still +covered with the dust of the hunt, was sitting at table, served by +pages, while lively music sounded from the trunk of an oak-tree, when +Kohlhaas with his escort of troopers came riding slowly along the road +from Dresden. The sudden illness of one of Kohlhaas' delicate young +children had obliged the Knight of Malzahn, who was his escort, to +delay three whole days in Herzberg. Having to answer for this act only +to the Prince whom he served, the Knight had not thought it necessary +to inform the government of Saxony of the delay. The Elector, with +throat half bare, his plumed hat decorated with sprigs of fir, as is +the way of hunters, was seated beside Lady Heloise, who had been the +first love of his early youth. The charm of the fête which surrounded +him having put him in good humor, he said, "Let us go and offer this +goblet of wine to the unfortunate man, whoever he may be." + +Lady Heloise, casting an entrancing glance at him, got up at once, +and, plundering the whole table, filled a silver dish which a page +handed her with fruit, cakes, and bread. The entire company had +already left the tent in a body, carrying refreshments of every kind, +when the High Bailiff came toward them and with an embarrassed air +begged them to remain where they were. In answer to the Elector's +disconcerted question as to what had happened that he should show such +confusion, the High Bailiff turned toward the Chamberlain and +answered, stammering, that it was Kohlhaas who was in the wagon. At +this piece of news, which none of the company could understand, as it +was well known that the horse-dealer had set out six days before, the +Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, turning back toward the tent, poured out his +glass of wine on the ground. The Elector, flushing scarlet, set his +glass down on a plate which a page, at a sign from the Chamberlain, +held out to him for this purpose, and while the Knight, Friedrich von +Malzahn, respectfully saluting the company, who were unknown to him, +passed slowly under the tent ropes that were stretched across the +highroad and continued on his way to Dahme, the lords and ladies, at +the invitation of the High Bailiff, returned to the tent without +taking any further notice of the party. As soon as the Elector had sat +down again, the High Bailiff dispatched a messenger secretly to Dahme +intending to have the magistrate of that place see to it that the +horse-dealer continued his journey immediately; but since the Knight +of Malzahn declared positively that, as the day was too far gone, he +intended to spend the night in the place, they had to be content to +lodge Kohlhaas quietly at a farm-house belonging to the magistrate, +which lay off the main road, hidden away among the bushes. + +Now it came about toward evening, when all recollection of the +incident had been driven from the minds of the lords and ladies by the +wine and the abundant dessert they had enjoyed, that the High Bailiff +proposed they should again lie in wait for a herd of stags which had +shown itself in the vicinity. The whole company took up the suggestion +joyfully, and after they had provided themselves with guns went off in +pairs, over ditches and hedges, into the near-by forest. Thus it was +that the Elector and Lady Heloise, who was hanging on his arm in order +to watch the sport, were, to their great astonishment, led by a +messenger who had been placed at their service, directly across the +court of the house in which Kohlhaas and the Brandenburg troopers were +lodged. When Lady Heloise was informed of this she cried, "Your +Highness, come!" and playfully concealing inside his silken vest the +chain which hung around his neck she added, "Before the crowd follows +us let us slip into the farm-house and have a look at the singular man +who is spending the night here." The Elector blushed and seized her +hand exclaiming, "Heloise! What are you thinking of?" But as she, +looking at him with amazement, pulled him along and assured him that +no one would ever recognize him in the hunting-costume he had on, and +as, moreover, at this very moment a couple of hunting-pages who had +already satisfied their curiosity came out of the house, and announced +that in truth, on account of an arrangement made by the High Bailiff, +neither the Knight nor the horse-dealer knew what company was +assembled in the neighborhood of Dahme, the Elector pulled his hat +down over his eyes with a smile and said, "Folly, thou rulest the +world, and thy throne is a beautiful woman's mouth!" + +Kohlhaas was sitting just then on a bundle of straw with his back +against the wall, feeding bread and milk to his child who had been +taken ill at Herzberg, when Lady Heloise and the Elector entered the +farm-house to visit him. To start the conversation, Lady Heloise asked +him who he was and what was the matter with the child; also what +crime he had committed and where they were taking him with such an +escort. Kohlhaas doffed his leather cap to her and, continuing his +occupation, made laconic but satisfactory answers to all these +questions. The Elector, who was standing behind the hunting-pages, +remarked a little leaden locket hanging on a silk string around the +horse-dealer's neck, and, since no better topic of conversation +offered itself, he asked him what it signified and what was in it. +Kohlhaas answered, "Oh, yes, worshipful Sir, this locket!" and with +that he slipped it from his neck, opened it, and took out a little +piece of paper with writing on it, sealed with a wafer. "There is a +strange tale connected with this locket. It may be some seven months +ago, on the very day after my wife's funeral--and, as you perhaps +know, I had left Kohlhaasenbrück in order to get possession of Squire +Tronka, who had done me great wrong--that in the market-town of +Jüterbock, through which my expedition led me, the Elector of Saxony +and the Elector of Brandenburg had met to discuss I know not what +matter. As they had settled it to their liking shortly before evening, +they were walking in friendly conversation through the streets of the +town in order to take a look at the annual fair which was just being +held there with much merry-making. They came upon a gipsy who was +sitting on a stool, telling from the calendar the fortunes of the +crowd that surrounded her. The two sovereigns asked her jokingly if +she did not have something pleasing to reveal to them too? I had just +dismounted with my troop at an inn, and happened to be present in the +square where this incident occurred, but as I was standing at the +entrance of a church, behind all the people, I could not hear what the +strange woman said to the two lords. The people began to whisper to +one another laughingly that she did not impart her knowledge to every +one, and to crowd together to see the spectacle which was preparing, +so that I, really more to make room for the curious than out of +curiosity on my part, climbed on a bench behind me which was carved +in the entrance of the church. From this point of vantage I could see +with perfect ease the two sovereigns and the old woman, who was +sitting on the stool before them apparently scribbling something down. +But hardly had I caught sight of them, when suddenly she got up, +leaning on her crutches, and, gazing around at the people, fixed her +eye on me, who had never exchanged a word with her nor ever in all my +life consulted her art. Pushing her way over to me through the dense +crowd, she said, 'There! If the gentleman wishes to know his fortune, +he may ask you about it!' And with these words, your Worship, she +stretched out her thin bony hands to me and gave me this paper. All +the people turned around in my direction, as I said, amazed, 'Grandam, +what in the world is this you are giving me?' After mumbling a lot of +inaudible nonsense, amid which, however, to my great surprise, I made +out my own name, she answered, 'An amulet, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer; +take good care of it; some day it will save your life!'--and vanished. +Well," Kohlhaas continued good-naturedly, "to tell the truth, close as +was the call in Dresden, I did not lose my life; but how I shall fare +in Berlin and whether the charm will help me out there too, the future +must show." + +At these words the Elector seated himself on a bench, and although to +Lady Heloise's frightened question as to what was the matter with him, +he answered, "Nothing, nothing at all!"--yet, before she could spring +forward and catch him in her arms, he had sunk down unconscious to the +floor. + +The Knight of Malzahn who entered the room at this moment on some +errand, exclaimed, "Good heavens, what is the matter with the +gentleman!" Lady Heloise cried, "Bring some water!" The hunting-pages +raised the Elector and carried him to a bed in the next room, and the +consternation reached its height when the Chamberlain, who had been +summoned by a page, declared, after repeated vain efforts to restore +him to consciousness, that he showed every sign of having been struck +by apoplexy. The Cup-bearer sent a mounted messenger to Luckau for the +doctor, and then, as the Elector opened his eyes, the High Bailiff had +him placed in a carriage and transported at a walk to his +hunting-castle near-by; this journey, however, caused two more +fainting spells after he had arrived there. Not until late the next +morning, on the arrival of the doctor from Luckau, did he recover +somewhat, though showing definite symptoms of an approaching nervous +fever. As soon as he had returned to consciousness he raised himself +on his elbow, and his very first question was, "Where is Kohlhaas?" +The Chamberlain, misunderstanding the question, said, as he took his +hand, that he might set his heart at rest on the subject of that +horrible man, as the latter, after that strange and incomprehensible +incident, had by his order remained behind in the farm-house at Dahme +with the escort from Brandenburg. Assuring the Elector of his most +lively sympathy, and protesting that he had most bitterly reproached +his wife for her inexcusable indiscretion in bringing about a meeting +between him and this man, the Chamberlain went on to ask what could +have occurred during the interview to affect his master so strangely +and profoundly. + +The Elector answered that he was obliged to confess to him that the +sight of an insignificant piece of paper, which the man carried about +with him in a leaden locket, was to blame for the whole unpleasant +incident which had befallen him. To explain the circumstance, he added +a variety of other things which the Chamberlain could not understand, +then suddenly, clasping the latter's hand in his own, he assured him +that the possession of this paper was of the utmost importance to +himself and begged Sir Kunz to mount immediately, ride to Dahme, and +purchase the paper for him from the horse-dealer at any price. The +Chamberlain, who had difficulty in concealing his embarrassment, +assured him that, if this piece of paper had any value for him, +nothing in the world was more necessary than to conceal the fact from +Kohlhaas, for if the latter should receive an indiscreet intimation of +it, all the riches the Elector possessed would not be sufficient to +buy it from the hands of this vindictive fellow, whose passion for +revenge was insatiable. To calm his master he added that they must try +to find another method, and that, as the miscreant probably was not +especially attached to it for its own sake, perhaps, by using +stratagem, they might get possession of the paper, which was of so +much importance to the Elector, through the instrumentality of a third +wholly disinterested person. + +The Elector, wiping away the perspiration, asked if they could not +send immediately to Dahme for this purpose and put a stop to the +horse-dealer's being transported further for the present until, by +some means or other, they had obtained possession of the paper. The +Chamberlain, who could hardly believe his senses, replied that +unhappily, according to all probable calculations, the horse-dealer +must already have left Dahme and be across the border on the soil of +Brandenburg; any attempt to interfere there with his being carried +away, or actually to put a stop to it altogether, would give rise to +difficulties of the most unpleasant and intricate kind, or even to +such as it might perchance be impossible to overcome at all. As the +Elector silently sank back on the pillow with a look of utter despair, +the Chamberlain asked him what the paper contained and by what +surprising and inexplicable chance he knew that the contents concerned +himself. At this, however, the Elector cast several ambiguous glances +at the Chamberlain, whose obligingness he distrusted on this occasion, +and gave no answer. He lay there rigid, with his heart beating +tumultuously, and looked down at the corner of the handkerchief which +he was holding in his hands as if lost in thought. Suddenly he begged +the Chamberlain to call to his room the hunting-page, Stein, an +active, clever young gentleman whom he had often employed before in +affairs of a secret nature, under the pretense that he had some other +business to negotiate with him. + +After he had explained the matter to the hunting-page and impressed +upon him the importance of the paper which was in Kohlhaas' +possession, the Elector asked him whether he wished to win an eternal +right to his friendship by procuring this paper for him before the +horse-dealer reached Berlin. As soon as the page had to some extent +grasped the situation, unusual though it was, he assured his master +that he would serve him to the utmost of his ability. The Elector +therefore charged him to ride after Kohlhaas, and as it would probably +be impossible to approach him with money, Stein should, in a cleverly +conducted conversation, proffer him life and freedom in exchange for +the paper--indeed, if Kohlhaas insisted upon it, he should, though +with all possible caution, give him direct assistance in escaping from +the hands of the Brandenburg troopers who were convoying him, by +furnishing him with horses, men, and money. + +The hunting-page, after procuring as a credential a paper written by +the Elector's own hand, did immediately set out with several men, and +by not sparing the horses' wind he had the good luck to overtake +Kohlhaas in a village on the border, where with his five children and +the Knight of Malzahn he was eating dinner in the open air before the +door of a house. The hunting-page introduced himself to the Knight of +Malzahn as a stranger who was passing by and wished to have a look at +the extraordinary man whom he was escorting. The Knight at once made +him acquainted with Kohlhaas and politely urged him to sit down at the +table, and since Malzahn, busied with the preparations for their +departure, was obliged to keep coming and going continually, and the +troopers were eating their dinner at a table on the other side of the +house, the hunting-page soon found an opportunity to reveal to the +horse-dealer who he was and on what a peculiar mission he had come to +him. + +The horse-dealer already knew the name and rank of the man who, at +sight of the locket in question, had swooned in the farm-house at +Dahme; and to put the finishing touch to the tumult of excitement into +which this discovery had thrown him, he needed only an insight into +the secrets contained in the paper which, for many reasons, he was +determined not to open out of mere curiosity. He answered that, in +consideration of the ungenerous and unprincely treatment he had been +forced to endure in Dresden in return for his complete willingness to +make every possible sacrifice, he would keep the paper. To the +hunting-page's question as to what induced him to make such an +extraordinary refusal when he was offered in exchange nothing less +than life and liberty, Kohlhaas answered, "Noble Sir, if your +sovereign should come to me and say, 'Myself and the whole company of +those who help me wield my sceptre I will destroy--destroy, you +understand, which is, I admit, the dearest wish that my soul +cherishes,' I should nevertheless still refuse to give him the paper +which is worth more to him than life, and should say to him, 'You have +the authority to send me to the scaffold, but I can cause you pain, +and I intend to do so!'" And with these words Kohlhaas, with death +staring him in the face, called a trooper to him and told him to take +a nice bit of food which had been left in the dish. All the rest of +the hour which he spent in the place he acted as though he did not see +the young nobleman who was sitting at the table, and not until he +climbed up on the wagon did he turn around to the hunting-page again +and salute him with a parting glance. + +When the Elector received this news his condition grew so much worse +that for three fateful days the doctor had grave fears for his life, +which was being attacked on so many sides at once. However, thanks to +his naturally good constitution, after several weeks spent in pain on +the sick-bed, he recovered sufficiently, at least, to permit his being +placed in a carriage well supplied with pillows and coverings, and +brought back to Dresden to take up the affairs of government once +more. + +As soon as he had arrived in the city he summoned Prince Christiern +of Meissen and asked him what had been done about dispatching Judge +Eibenmaier, whom the government had thought of sending to Vienna as +its attorney in the Kohlhaas affair, in order to lay a complaint +before his Imperial Majesty concerning the violation of the public +peace proclaimed by the Emperor. + +The Prince answered that the Judge, in conformity with the order the +Elector had left behind on his departure for Dahme, had set out for +Vienna immediately after the arrival of the jurist, Zäuner, whom the +Elector of Brandenburg had sent to Dresden as his attorney in order to +institute legal proceedings against Squire Wenzel Tronka in regard to +the black horses. + +The Elector flushed and walked over to his desk, expressing surprise +at this haste, since, to his certain knowledge, he had made it clear +that because of the necessity for a preliminary consultation with Dr. +Luther, who had procured the amnesty for Kohlhaas, he wished to +postpone the final departure of Eibenmaier until he should give a more +explicit and definite order. At the same time, with an expression of +restrained anger, he tossed about some letters and deeds which were +lying on his desk. The Prince, after a pause during which he stared in +surprise at his master, answered that he was sorry if he had failed to +give him satisfaction in this matter; however, he could show the +decision of the Council of State enjoining him to send off the +attorney at the time mentioned. He added that in the Council of State +nothing at all had been said of a consultation with Dr. Luther; that +earlier in the affair, it would perhaps have been expedient to pay +some regard to this reverend gentleman because of his intervention in +Kohlhaas' behalf; but that this was no longer the case, now that the +promised amnesty had been violated before the eyes of the world and +Kohlhaas had been arrested and surrendered to the Brandenburg courts +to be sentenced and executed. + +The Elector replied that the error committed in dispatching +Eibenmaier was, in fact, not a very serious one; he expressed a wish, +however, that, for the present, the latter should not act in Vienna in +his official capacity as plaintiff for Saxony, but should await +further orders, and begged the Prince to send off to him immediately +by a courier the instructions necessary to this end. + +The Prince answered that, unfortunately, this order came just one day +too late, as Eibenmaier, according to a report which had just arrived +that day, had already acted in his capacity as plaintiff and had +proceeded with the presentation of the complaint at the State Chancery +in Vienna. In answer to the Elector's dismayed question as to how all +this was possible in so short a time, he added that three weeks had +passed since the departure of this man and that the instructions he +had received had charged him to settle the business with all possible +dispatch immediately after his arrival in Vienna. A delay, the Prince +added, would have been all the more inadvisable in this case, as the +Brandenburg attorney, Zäuner, was proceeding against Squire Wenzel +Tronka with the most stubborn persistence and had already petitioned +the court for the provisional removal of the black horses from the +hands of the knacker with a view to their future restoration to good +condition, and, in spite of all the arguments of the opposite side, +had carried his point. + +The Elector, ringing the bell, said, "No matter; it is of no +importance," and turning around again toward the Prince asked +indifferently how other things were going in Dresden and what had +occurred during his absence. Then, incapable of hiding his inner state +of mind, he saluted him with a wave of the hand and dismissed him. + +That very same day the Elector sent him a written demand for all the +official documents concerning Kohlhaas, under the pretext that, on +account of the political importance of the affair, he wished to go +over it himself. As he could not bear to think of destroying the man +from whom alone he could receive information concerning the secrets +contained in the paper, he composed an autograph letter to the +Emperor; in this he affectionately and urgently requested that, for +weighty reasons, which possibly he would explain to him in greater +detail after a little while, he be allowed to withdraw for a time, +until a further decision had been reached, the complaint which +Eibenmaier had entered against Kohlhaas. + +The Emperor, in a note drawn up by the State Chancery, replied that +the change which seemed suddenly to have taken place in the Elector's +mind astonished him exceedingly; that the report which had been +furnished him on the part of Saxony had made the Kohlhaas affair a +matter which concerned the entire Holy Roman Empire; that, in +consequence, he, the Emperor, as head of the same, had felt it his +duty to appear before the house of Brandenburg in this, as plaintiff +in this affair, and that, therefore; since the Emperor's counsel, +Franz Müller, had gone to Berlin in the capacity of attorney in order +to call Kohlhaas to account for the violation of the public peace, the +complaint could in no wise be withdrawn now and the affair must take +its course in conformity with the law. + +This letter completely crushed the Elector and, to his utter dismay, +private communications from Berlin reached him a short time after, +announcing the institution of the lawsuit before the Supreme Court at +Berlin and containing the remark that Kohlhaas, in spite of all the +efforts of the lawyer assigned him, would in all probability end on +the scaffold. The unhappy sovereign determined, therefore, to make one +more effort, and in an autograph letter begged the Elector of +Brandenburg to spare Kohlhaas' life. He alleged as pretext that the +amnesty solemnly promised to this man did not lawfully permit the +execution of a death sentence upon him; he assured the Elector that, +in spite of the apparent severity with which Kohlhaas had been treated +in Saxony, it had never been his intention to allow the latter to die, +and described how wretched he should be if the protection which they +had pretended to be willing to afford the man from Berlin should, by +an unexpected turn of affairs, prove in the end to be more detrimental +to him than if he had remained in Dresden and his affair had been +decided according to the laws of Saxony. + +The Elector of Brandenburg, to whom much of this declaration seemed +ambiguous and obscure, answered that the energy with which the +attorney of his Majesty the Emperor was proceeding made it absolutely +out of the question for him to conform to the wish expressed by the +Elector of Saxony and depart from the strict precepts of the law. He +remarked that the solicitude thus displayed really went too far, +inasmuch as the complaint against Kohlhaas on account of the crimes +which had been pardoned in the amnesty had, as a matter of fact, not +been entered at the Supreme Court at Berlin by him, the sovereign who +had granted the amnesty, but by the supreme head of the Empire who was +in no wise bound thereby. At the same time he represented to him how +necessary it was to make a fearful example of Kohlhaas in view of the +continued outrages of Nagelschmidt, who with unheard-of boldness was +already extending his depredations as far as Brandenburg, and begged +him, in case he refused to be influenced by these considerations, to +apply to His Majesty the Emperor himself, since, if a decree was to be +issued in favor of Kohlhaas, this could only be rendered after a +declaration on his Majesty's part. + +The Elector fell ill again with grief and vexation over all these +unsuccessful attempts, and one morning, when the Chamberlain came to +pay him a visit, he showed him the letters which he had written to the +courts of Vienna and Berlin in the effort to prolong Kohlhaas' life +and thus at least gain time in which to get possession of the paper in +the latter's hands. The Chamberlain threw himself on his knees before +him and begged him by all that he held sacred and dear to tell him +what this paper contained. The Elector bade him bolt the doors of the +room and sit down on the bed beside him, and after he had grasped his +hand and, with a sigh, pressed it to his heart, he began as follows +"Your wife, as I hear, has already told you that the Elector of +Brandenburg and I, on the third day of the conference that we held at +Jüterbock, came upon a gipsy, and the Elector, lively as he is by +nature, determined to destroy by a jest in the presence of all the +people the fame of this fantastic woman, whose art had, +inappropriately enough, just been the topic of conversation at dinner. +He walked up to her table with his arms crossed and demanded from her +a sign--one that could be put to the test that very day--to prove the +truth of the fortune she was about to tell him, pretending that, even +if she were the Roman Sibyl herself, he could not believe her words +without it. The woman, hastily taking our measure from head to foot, +said that the sign would be that, even before we should leave, the big +horned roebuck which the gardener's son was raising in the park, would +come to meet us in the market-place where we were standing at that +moment. Now you must know that this roebuck, which was destined for +the Dresden kitchen, was kept behind lock and key in an inclosure +fenced in with high boards and shaded by the oak-trees of the park; +and since, moreover, on account of other smaller game and birds, the +park in general and also the garden leading to it, were kept carefully +locked, it was absolutely impossible to understand how the animal +could carry out this strange prediction and come to meet us in the +square where we were standing. Nevertheless the Elector, afraid that +some trick might be behind it and determined for the sake of the joke +to give the lie once and for all to everything else that she might +say, sent to the castle, after a short consultation with me, and +ordered that the roebuck be instantly killed and prepared for the +table within the next few days. Then he turned back to the woman +before whom this matter had been transacted aloud, and said, 'Well, go +ahead! What have you to disclose to me of the future?' The woman, +looking at his hand, said, 'Hail, my Elector and Sovereign! Your Grace +will reign for a long time, the house from which you spring will long +endure, and your descendants will be great and glorious and will come +to exceed in power all the other princes and sovereigns of the world.' + +"The Elector, after a pause in which he looked thoughtfully at the +woman, said in an undertone, as he took a step toward me, that he was +almost sorry now that he had sent off a messenger to ruin the +prophecy; and while amid loud rejoicing the money rained down in heaps +into the woman's lap from the hands of the knights who followed the +Elector, the latter, after feeling in his pocket and adding a gold +piece on his own account, asked if the salutation which she was about +to about to reveal to me also had such a silvery sound as his. The +woman opened a box that stood beside her and in a leisurely, precise +way arranged the money in it according to kind and quantity; then she +closed it again, shaded her eyes with her hand as if the sun annoyed +her, and looked at me. I repeated the question I had asked her and, +while she examined my hand, I added jokingly to the Elector, 'To me, +so it seems, she has nothing really agreeable to announce!' At that +she seized her crutches, raised herself slowly with their aid from her +stool, and, pressing close to me with her hands held before her +mysteriously, she whispered audibly in my ear, 'No!' 'Is that so?' I +asked confused, and drew back a step before the figure, who with a +look cold and lifeless as though from eyes of marble, seated herself +once more on the stool behind her; 'from what quarter does danger +menace my house?' The woman, taking a piece of charcoal and a paper in +her hand and crossing her knees, asked whether she should write it +down for me; and as I, really embarrassed, though only because under +the existing circumstances there was nothing else for me to do, +answered, 'Yes, do so,' she replied, 'Very well! Three things I will +write down for you--the name of the last ruler of your house, the year +in which he will lose his throne, and the name of the man who through +the power of arms will seize it for himself.' Having done this before +the eyes of all the people she arose, sealed the paper with a wafer, +which she moistened in her withered mouth, and pressed upon it a +leaden seal ring which she wore on her middle finger. And as I, +curious beyond all words, as you can well imagine, was about to seize +the paper, she said, 'Not so, Your Highness!' and turned and raised +one of her crutches; 'from that man there, the one with the plumed +hat, standing on the bench at the entrance of the church behind all +the people--from him you shall redeem it, if it so please you!' And +with these words, before I had clearly grasped what she was saying, +she left me standing in the square, speechless with astonishment, and, +clapping shut the box that stood behind her and slinging it over her +back, she disappeared in the crowd of people surrounding us, so that I +could no longer watch what she was doing. But at this moment, to my +great consolation, I must admit, there appeared the knight whom the +Elector had sent to the castle, and reported, with a smile hovering on +his lips, that the roebuck had been killed and dragged off to the +kitchen by two hunters before his very eyes. The Elector, gaily +placing his arm in mine with the intention of leading me away from the +square, said, 'Well then, the prophecy was a commonplace swindle and +not worth the time and money which it has cost us!' But how great was +our astonishment when, even before he had finished speaking, a cry +went up around the whole square, and the eyes of all turned toward a +large butcher's dog trotting along from the castle yard. In the +kitchen he had seized the roebuck by the neck as a fair prize, and, +pursued by men-servants and maids, dropped the animal on the ground +three paces in front of us. Thus indeed the woman's prophecy, which +was the pledge for the truth of all that she had uttered, was +fulfilled, and the roebuck, although dead to be sure, had come to the +market-place to meet us. The lightning which falls from heaven on a +winter's day cannot annihilate more completely than this sight did me, +and my first endeavor, as soon as I had excused myself from the +company which surrounded me, was to discover immediately the +whereabouts of the man with the plumed hat whom the woman had pointed +out to me; but none of my people, though sent out on a three days' +continuous search, could give me even the remotest kind of information +concerning him. And then, friend Kunz, a few weeks ago in the +farm-house at Dahme, I saw the man with my own eyes!" + +With these words he let go of the Chamberlain's hand and, wiping away +the perspiration, sank back again on the couch. The Chamberlain, who +considered it a waste of effort to attempt to contradict the Elector's +opinion of the incident or to try to make him adopt his own view of +the matter, begged him by all means to try to get possession of the +paper and afterward to leave the fellow to his fate. But the Elector +answered that he saw absolutely no way of doing so, although the +thought of having to do without it or perhaps even seeing all +knowledge of it perish with this man, brought him to the verge of +misery and despair. When asked by his friend whether he had made any +attempts to discover the person of the gipsy-woman herself, the +Elector replied that the Government Office, in consequence of an order +which he had issued under a false pretext, had been searching in vain +for this woman throughout the Electorate; in view of these facts, for +reasons, however, which he refused to explain in detail, he doubted +whether she could ever be discovered in Saxony. + +Now it happened that the Chamberlain wished to go to Berlin on account +of several considerable pieces of property in the Neumark of +Brandenburg which his wife had fallen heir to from the estate of the +Arch-Chancellor, Count Kallheim, who had died shortly after being +deposed. As Sir Kunz really loved the Elector, he asked, after +reflecting for a short time, whether the latter would leave the matter +to his discretion; and when his master, pressing his hand +affectionately to his breast, answered, "Imagine that you are myself, +and secure the paper for me!" the Chamberlain turned over his affairs +to a subordinate, hastened his departure by several days, left his +wife behind, and set out for Berlin, accompanied only by a few +servants. + +Kohlhaas, as we have said, had meanwhile arrived in Berlin, and by +special order of the Elector of Brandenburg had been placed in a +prison for nobles, where, together with his five children, he was made +as comfortable as circumstances permitted. Immediately after the +appearance of the Imperial attorney from Vienna the horse-dealer was +called to account before the bar of the Supreme Court for the +violation of the public peace proclaimed throughout the Empire, and +although in his answer he objected that, by virtue of the agreement +concluded with the Elector of Saxony at Lützen, he could not be +prosecuted for the armed invasion of that country and the acts of +violence committed at that time, he was nevertheless told for his +information that His Majesty the Emperor, whose attorney was making +the complaint in this case, could not take that into account. And +indeed, after the situation had been explained to him and he had been +told that, to offset this, complete satisfaction would be rendered to +him in Dresden in his suit against Squire Wenzel Tronka, he very soon +acquiesced in the matter. + +Thus it happened that, precisely on the day of the arrival of the +Chamberlain, judgment was pronounced, and Kohlhaas was condemned to +lose his life by the sword, which sentence, however, in the +complicated state of affairs, no one believed would be carried out, in +spite of its mercy. Indeed the whole city, knowing the good will which +the Elector bore Kohlhaas, confidently hoped to see it commuted by an +electoral decree to a mere, though possibly long and severe, term of +imprisonment. + +The Chamberlain, who nevertheless realized that no time was to be lost +if the commission given him by his master was to be accomplished, set +about his business by giving Kohlhaas an opportunity to get a good +look at him, dressed as he was in his ordinary court costume, one +morning when the horse-dealer was standing at the window of his +prison innocently gazing at the passers-by. As he concluded from a +sudden movement of his head that he had noticed him, and with great +pleasure observed particularly that he put his hand involuntarily to +that part of the chest where the locket was lying, he considered that +what had taken place at that moment in Kohlhaas' soul was a sufficient +preparation to allow him to go a step further in the attempt to gain +possession of the paper. He therefore sent for an old woman who +hobbled around on crutches, selling old clothes; he had noticed her in +the streets of Berlin among a crowd of other rag-pickers, and in age +and costume she seemed to him to correspond fairly well to the woman +described to him by the Elector of Saxony. On the supposition that +Kohlhaas probably had not fixed very deeply in mind the features of +the old gipsy, of whom he had had but a fleeting vision as she handed +him the paper, he determined to substitute the aforesaid woman for her +and, if it were practicable, to have her act the part of the gipsy +before Kohlhaas. In accordance with this plan and in order to fit her +for the rôle, he informed her in detail of all that had taken place in +Jüterbock between the Elector and the gipsy, and, as he did not know +how far the latter had gone in her declarations to Kohlhaas, he did +not forget to impress particularly upon the woman the three mysterious +items contained in the paper. After he had explained to her what she +must disclose in disconnected and incoherent fashion, about certain +measures which had been taken to get possession, either by strategy or +by force, of this paper which was of the utmost importance to the +Saxon court, he charged her to demand of Kohlhaas that he should give +the paper to her to keep during a few fateful days, on the pretext +that it was no longer safe with him. + +As was to be expected, the woman undertook the execution of this +business at once on the promise of a considerable reward, a part of +which the Chamberlain, at her demand, had to pay over to her in +advance. As the mother of Herse, the groom who had fallen at +Mühlberg, had permission from the government to visit Kohlhaas at +times, and this woman had already known her for several months, she +succeeded a few days later in gaining access to the horse-dealer by +means of a small gratuity to the warden. + +But when the woman entered his room, Kohlhaas, from a seal ring that +she wore on her hand and a coral chain that hung round her neck, +thought that he recognized in her the very same old gipsy-woman who +had handed him the paper in Jüterbock; and since probability is not +always on the side of truth, it so happened that here something had +occurred which we will indeed relate, but at the same time, to those +who wish to question it we must accord full liberty to do so. The +Chamberlain had made the most colossal blunder, and in the aged +old-clothes woman, whom he had picked up in the streets of Berlin to +impersonate the gipsy, he had hit upon the very same mysterious +gipsy-woman whom he wished to have impersonated. At least, while +leaning on her crutches and stroking the cheeks of the children who, +intimidated by her singular appearance, were pressing close to their +father, the woman informed the latter that she had returned to +Brandenburg from Saxony some time before, and that after an unguarded +question which the Chamberlain had hazarded in the streets of Berlin +about the gipsy-woman who had been in Jüterbock in the spring of the +previous year, she had immediately pressed forward to him, and under a +false name had offered herself for the business which he wished to see +done. + +The horse-dealer remarked such a strange likeness between her and his +dead wife Lisbeth that he might have asked the old woman whether she +were his wife's grandmother; for not only did her features and her +hands--with fingers still shapely and beautiful--and especially the +use she made of them when speaking, remind him vividly of Lisbeth; he +even noticed on her neck a mole like one with which his wife's neck +was marked. With his thoughts in a strange whirl he urged the gipsy to +sit down on a chair and asked what it could possibly be that brought +her to him on business for the Chamberlain. + +While Kohlhaas' old dog snuffed around her knees and wagged his tail +as she gently patted his head, the Woman answered that she had been +commissioned by the Chamberlain to inform him what the three questions +of importance for the Court of Saxony were, to which the paper +contained the mysterious answer; to warn him of a messenger who was +then in Berlin for the purpose of gaining possession of it; and to +demand the paper from him on the pretext that it was no longer safe +next his heart where he was carrying it. She said that the real +purpose for which she had come, however, was to tell him that the +threat to get the paper away from him by strategy or by force was an +absurd and empty fraud; that under the protection of the Elector of +Brandenburg, in whose custody he was, he need not have the least fear +for its safety; that the paper was indeed much safer with him than +with her, and that he should take good care not to lose possession of +it by giving it up to any one, no matter on what pretext. +Nevertheless, she concluded, she considered it would be wise to use +the paper for the purpose for which she had given it to him at the +fair in Jüterbock, to lend a favorable ear to the offer which had been +made to him on the frontier through Squire Stein, and in return for +life and liberty to surrender the paper, which could be of no further +use to him, to the Elector of Saxony. + +Kohlhaas, who was exulting over the power which was thus afforded him +to wound the heel of his enemy mortally at the very moment when it was +treading him in the dust, made answer, "Not for the world, grandam, +not for the world!" He pressed the old woman's hand warmly and only +asked to know what sort of answers to the tremendous questions were +contained in the paper. Taking on her lap the youngest child, who had +crouched at her feet, the woman said, "Not for the world, Kohlhaas the +horse-dealer, but for this pretty, fair-haired little lad!" and with +that she laughed softly at the child, petted and kissed him while he +stared at her in wide-eyed surprise, and with her withered hands gave +him an apple which she had in her pocket. Kohlhaas answered, in some +confusion, that the children themselves, when they were grown, would +approve his conduct, and that he could do nothing of greater benefit +to them and their grandchildren than to keep the paper. He asked, +furthermore, who would insure him against a new deception after the +experience he had been through, and whether, in the end, he would not +be making a vain sacrifice of the paper to the Elector, as had lately +happened in the case of the band of troops which he had collected in +Lützen. "If I've once caught a man breaking his word," said he, "I +never exchange another with him; and nothing but your command, +positive and unequivocal, shall separate me, good grandam, from this +paper through which I have been granted satisfaction in such a +wonderful fashion for all I have suffered." + +The woman set the child down on the floor again and said that in many +respects he was right, and that he could do or leave undone what he +wished; and with that she took up her crutches again and started to +go. Kohlhaas repeated his question regarding the contents of the +wonderful paper; she answered hastily that, of course, he could open +it, although it would be pure curiosity on his part. He wished to find +out about a thousand other things yet, before she left him--who she +really was, how she came by the knowledge resident within her, why she +had refused to give the magic paper to the Elector for whom it had +been written after all, and among so many thousand people had handed +it precisely to him, Kohlhaas, who had never consulted her art. + +Now it happened that, just at that moment, a noise was heard, caused +by several police officials who were mounting the stairway, so that +the woman, seized with sudden apprehension at being found by them in +these quarters, exclaimed, "Good-by for the present, Kohlhaas, good-by +for the present. When we meet again you shall not lack information +concerning all these things." With that she turned toward the door, +crying, "Farewell, children, farewell!" Then she kissed the little +folks one after the other, and went off. + +In the mean time the Elector of Saxony, abandoned to his wretched +thoughts, had called in two astrologers, Oldenholm and Olearius by +name, who at that time enjoyed a great reputation in Saxony, and had +asked their advice concerning the mysterious paper which was of such +importance to him and all his descendants. After making a profound +investigation of several days' duration in the tower of the Dresden +palace, the men could not agree as to whether the prophecy referred to +remote centuries or, perhaps, to the present time, with a possible +reference to the King of Poland, with whom the relations were still of +a very warlike nature. The disquietude, not to say the despair, in +which the unhappy sovereign was plunged, was only increased by such +learned disputes, and finally was so intensified as to seem to his +soul wholly intolerable. In addition, just at this time the +Chamberlain charged his wife that before she left for Berlin, whither +she was about to follow him, she should adroitly inform the Elector, +that, after the failure of an attempt, which he had made with the help +of an old woman who had kept out of sight ever since, there was but +slight hope of securing the paper in Kohlhaas' possession, inasmuch as +the death sentence pronounced against the horse-dealer had now at last +been signed by the Elector of Brandenburg after a minute examination +of all the legal documents, and the day of execution already set for +the Monday after Palm Sunday. At this news the Elector, his heart torn +by grief and remorse, shut himself up in his room like a man in utter +despair and, tired of life, refused for two days to take food; on the +third day he suddenly disappeared from Dresden after sending a short +communication to the Government Office with word that he was going to +the Prince of Dessau's to hunt. Where he actually did go and whether +he did wend his way toward Dessau, we shall not undertake to say, as +the chronicles--which we have diligently compared before reporting +events--at this point contradict and offset one another in a very +peculiar manner. So much is certain: the Prince of Dessau was +incapable of hunting, as he was at this time lying ill in Brunswick at +the residence of his uncle, Duke Henry, and it is also certain that +Lady Heloise on the evening of the following day arrived in Berlin at +the house of her husband, Sir Kunz, the Chamberlain, in the company of +a certain Count von Königstein whom she gave out to be her cousin. + +In the mean time, on the order of the Elector of Brandenburg, the +death sentence was read to Kohlhaas, his chains were removed, and the +papers concerning his property, to which papers his right had been +denied in Dresden, were returned to him. When the councilors whom the +court had dispatched to him asked what disposition he wished to have +made of his property after his death, with the help of a notary he +made out a will in favor of his children and appointed his honest +friend, the bailiff at Kohlhaasenbrück, to be their guardian. After +that, nothing could match the peace and contentment of his last days. +For in consequence of a singular decree extraordinary issued by the +Elector, the prison in which he was kept was soon after thrown open +and free entrance was allowed day and night to all his friends, of +whom he possessed a great many in the city. He even had the further +satisfaction of seeing the theologian, Jacob Freising, enter his +prison as a messenger from Dr. Luther, with a letter from the latter's +own hand--without doubt a very remarkable document which, however, has +since been lost--and of receiving the blessed Holy Communion at the +hands of this reverend gentleman in the presence of two deans of +Brandenburg, who assisted him in administering it. + +Amid general commotion in the city, which could not even yet be weaned +from the hope of seeing him saved by an electoral rescript, there +now dawned the fateful Monday after Palm Sunday, on which Kohlhaas was +to make atonement to the world for the all-too-rash attempt to procure +justice for himself within it. Accompanied by a strong guard and +conducted by the theologian, Jacob Freising, he was just leaving the +gate of his prison with his two lads in his arms--for this favor he +had expressly requested at the bar of the court--when among a +sorrowful throng of acquaintances, who were pressing his hands in +farewell, there stepped up to him, with haggard face, the castellan of +the Elector's palace, and gave him a paper which he said an old woman +had put in his hands for him. The latter, looking in surprise at the +man, whom he scarcely knew, opened the paper. The seal pressed upon +the wafer had reminded him at once of the frequently mentioned +gipsy-woman, but who can describe the astonishment which filled him +when he found the following information contained in it: "Kohlhaas, +the Elector of Saxony is in Berlin; he has already preceded you to the +place of execution, and, if you care to know, can be recognized by a +hat with blue and white plumes. The purpose for which he comes I do +not need to tell you. He intends, as soon as you are buried, to have +the locket dug up and the paper in it opened and read. Your Lisbeth." + +Kohlhaas turned to the castellan in the utmost astonishment and asked +him if he knew the marvelous woman who had given him the note. But +just as the castellan started to answer "Kohlhaas, the woman--" and then +hesitated strangely in the middle of his sentence, the horse-dealer +was borne away by the procession which moved on again at that moment, +and could not make out what the man, who seemed to be trembling in +every limb, finally uttered. + +When Kohlhaas arrived at the place of execution he found there the +Elector of Brandenburg and his suite, among whom was the +Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, halting on horseback, in the +midst of an innumerable crowd of people. On the sovereign's right was +the Imperial attorney, Franz Müller, with a copy of the death +sentence in his hand; on his left was his own attorney, the jurist +Anton Zäuner, with the decree of the Court Tribunal at Dresden. In the +middle of the half circle formed by the people stood a herald with a +bundle of articles, and the two black horses, fat and glossy, pawing +the ground impatiently. For the Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich, had won +the suit instituted at Dresden in the name of his master without +yielding a single point to Squire Wenzel Tronka. After the horses had +been made honorable once more by having a banner waved over their +heads, and taken from the knacker, who was feeding them, they had been +fattened by the Squire's servants and then, in the market-place in +Dresden, had been turned over to the attorney in the presence of a +specially appointed commission. Accordingly when Kohlhaas, accompanied +by his guard, advanced to the mound where the Elector was awaiting +him, the latter said, "Well, Kohlhaas, this is the day on which you +receive justice that is your due. Look, I here deliver to you all that +was taken from you by force at the Tronka Castle which I, as your +sovereign, was bound to procure for you again; here are the black +horses, the neck-cloth, the gold gulden, the linen--everything down to +the very amount of the bill for medical attention furnished your +groom, Herse, who fell at Mühlberg. Are you satisfied with me?" + +Kohlhaas set the two children whom he was carrying in his arms down on +the ground beside him, and with eyes sparkling with astonished +pleasure read the decree which was handed to him at a sign from the +Arch-Chancellor. When he also found in it a clause condemning Squire +Wenzel Tronka to a punishment of two years' imprisonment, his feelings +completely overcame him and he sank down on his knees at some distance +from the Elector, with his hands folded across his breast. Rising and +laying his hand on the knee of the Arch-Chancellor, he joyfully +assured him that his dearest wish on earth had been fulfilled; then he +walked over to the horses, examined them and patted their plump +necks, and, coming back to the Chancellor, declared with a smile that +he was going to present them to his two sons, Henry and Leopold! + +The Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, looking graciously down upon +him from his horse, promised him in the name of the Elector that his +last wish should be held sacred and asked him also to dispose of the +other articles contained in the bundle, as seemed good to him. +Whereupon Kohlhaas called out from the crowd Herse's old mother, whom +he had caught sight of in the square, and, giving her the things, +said, "Here, grandmother, these belong to you!" The indemnity for the +loss of Herse was with the money in the bundle, and this he presented +to her also, as a gift to provide care and comfort for her old age. +The Elector cried, "Well, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer, now that +satisfaction has been rendered you in such fashion, do you, for your +part, prepare to give satisfaction to His Majesty the Emperor, whose +attorney is standing here, for the violation of the peace he had +proclaimed!" Taking off his hat and throwing it on the ground Kohlhaas +said that he was ready to do so. He lifted the children once more from +the ground and pressed them to his breast; then he gave them over to +the bailiff of Kohlhaasenbrück, and while the latter, weeping +quietly, led them away from the square, Kohlhaas advanced to the +block. + +He was just removing his neck-cloth and baring his chest when, +throwing a hasty glance around the circle formed by the crowd, he +caught sight of the familiar face of the man with blue and white +plumes, who was standing quite near him between two knights whose +bodies half hid him from view. With a sudden stride which surprised +the guard surrounding him, Kohlhaas walked close up to the man, +untying the locket from around his neck as he did so. He took out the +paper, unsealed it, and read it through; then, without moving his eyes +from the man with blue and white plumes, who was already beginning to +indulge in sweet hopes, he stuck the paper in his mouth and swallowed +it. At this sight the man with blue and white plumes was seized with +convulsions and sank down unconscious. While his companions bent over +him in consternation and raised him from the ground, Kohlhaas turned +toward the scaffold, where his head fell under the axe of the +executioner. + +Here ends the story of Kohlhaas. Amid the general lamentations of the +people his body was placed in a coffin, and while the bearers raised +it from the ground and bore it away to the graveyard in the suburbs +for decent burial, the Elector of Brandenburg called to him the sons +of the dead man and dubbed them knights, telling the Arch-Chancellor +that he wished them to be educated in his school for pages. + +The Elector of Saxony, shattered in body and mind, returned shortly +afterward to Dresden; details of his subsequent career there must be +sought in history. + +Some hale and happy descendants of Kohlhaas, however, were still +living in Mecklenburg in the last century. + + + + +THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG + + + DRAMATIS PERSONÆ + + FREDERICK WILLIAM, _Elector of Brandenburg_. + + THE ELECTRESS. + + PRINCESS NATALIE OF ORANGE, _his niece, + Honorary Colonel of a regiment of Dragoons_. + + FIELD-MARSHAL DÖRFLING. + + PRINCE FREDERICK ARTHUR OF HOMBURG, + _General of cavalry_. + + COLONEL KOTTWITZ, of the regiment + of the Princess of Orange. + + HENNINGS + COUNT TRUCHSZ _Infantry Colonels_. + + COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, _of the Elector's suite_. + + VON DER GOLZ } + COUNT GEORGE VON SPARREN STRANZ } + SIEGFRIED VON MÖRNER } _Captains of Cavalry_ + COUNT REUSS } + A SERGEANT } + + + _Officers. Corporals and troopers. + Ladies- and Gentlemen-in-waiting. + Pages. Lackeys. Servants. People + of both sexes, young and old_. + + _Time_: 1675. + + + +THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG (1810) + +By HEINRICH VON KLEIST + +TRANSLATED BY HERMANN HAGEDORN, A.B. + +Author of _A Troop of the Guard and Other Poems_ + + +ACT I + +_Scene: Fehrbellin. A garden laid out in the old French style. In the +background, a palace with a terrace from which a broad stair descends. +It is night._ + + +SCENE I + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _sits with head bare and shirt unbuttoned, +half-sleeping, half waking, under an oak, binding a wreath. The_ +ELECTOR, ELECTRESS, PRINCESS NATALIE, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN GOLZ +_and others come stealthily out of the palace and look down upon him +from the balustrade of the terrace. Pages with torches._ + + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Prince of Homburg, our most valiant cousin, + Who these three days has pressed the flying Swedes + Exultant at the cavalry's forefront, + And scant of breath only today returned + To camp at Fehrbellin--your order said + That he should tarry here provisioning + Three hours at most, and move once more apace + Clear to the Hackel Hills to cope with Wrangel, + Seeking to build redoubts beside the Rhyn? + +ELECTOR. 'Tis so. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Now having charged the commandants + Of all his squadrons to depart the town + Obedient to the plan, sharp ten at night, + He flings himself exhausted on the straw + Like a hound panting, his exhausted limbs + To rest a little while against the fight + Which waits us at the glimmering of dawn. + +ELECTOR. I heard so! Well? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Now when the hour strikes + And in the stirrup now the cavalry + Expectant paws the ground before the gates-- + Who still absents himself The Prince of Homburg, + Their chief. With lights they seek the valiant man, + With torches, lanterns, and they find him--where? + + [_He takes a torch from the hand of a page._] + + As a somnambulist, look, on that bench, + Whither in sleep, as you would ne'er believe, + The moonshine lured him, vaguely occupied + Imagining himself posterity + And weaving for his brow the crown of fame. + +ELECTOR. What! + +HOHENZOLL. Oh, indeed! Look down here: there he sits! + + [_From the terrace he throws the light on the_ PRINCE.] + +ELECTOR. In slumber sunk? Impossible! + +HOHENZOLLERN. In slumber + Sunk as he is, speak but his name--he drops. + + [_Pause._] + +ELECTRESS. Sure as I live, the youth is taken ill. + +NATALIE. He needs a doctor's care-- + +ELECTRESS. We should give help, + Not waste time, gentlemen, meseems, in scorn. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_handing back the torch_). + He's sound, you tender-hearted women folk, + By Jove, as sound as I! He'll make the Swede + Aware of that upon tomorrow's field. + It's nothing more, and take my word for it, + Than a perverse and silly trick of the mind. + +ELECTOR. By faith, I thought it was a fairy-tale! + Follow me, friends, we'll take a closer look. + + [_They descend from the terrace._] + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING (_to the pages_). + Back with the torches! + +[Illustration: #THE ROYAL CASTLE AT BERLIN#] + +HOHENZOLLERN. Leave them, leave them, friends! + These precincts might roar up to heaven in fire + And his soul be no more aware of it + Than the bright stone he wears upon his hand. + + [_They surround him, the pages illuminating the scene._] + +ELECTOR (_bending over the_ PRINCE). + What leaf is it he binds? Leaf of the willow? + +HOHENZOLL. What! Willow-leaf, my lord? It is the bay, + Such as his eyes have noted on the portraits + Of heroes hung in Berlin's armor-hall. + +ELECTOR. Where hath he found that in my sandy soil? + +HOHENZOLL. The equitable gods may guess at that! + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + It may be in the garden, where the gardener + Has nurtured other strange, outlandish plants. + +ELECTOR. Most curious, by heaven! But what's the odds? + I know what stirs the heart of this young fool. + +HOHENZOLL. Indeed! Tomorrow's clash of arms, my liege! + Astrologers, I'll wager, in his mind + Are weaving stars into a triumph wreath. + + [_The_ PRINCE _regards the wreath._] + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. Now it is done! + +HOHENZOLLERN. A shame, a mortal shame, + That there's no mirror in the neighborhood! + He would draw close to it, vain as any girl, + And try his wreath on, thus, and then again + This other way--as if it were a bonnet! + +ELECTOR. By faith! But I must see how far he'll go! + +[_The_ ELECTOR _takes the wreath from the_ PRINCE'S _hand while the +latter regards him, flushing. The_ ELECTOR _thereupon twines his +neck-chain about the wreath and gives it to the_ PRINCESS. _The_ +PRINCE _rises in excitement, but the_ ELECTOR _draws back with the_ +PRINCESS, _still holding the wreath aloft. The_ PRINCE _follows her +with outstretched arms._] + +THE PRINCE (_whispering_). + Natalie! Oh, my girl! Oh, my beloved! + +ELECTOR. Make haste! Away! + +HOHENZOLLERN. What did the fool say? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. What? + + [_They all ascend the stair to the terrace._] + +THE PRINCE. Frederick, my prince! my father! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Hell and devils! + +ELECTOR (_backing away from him_). + Open the gate for me! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, mother mine! + +HOHENZOLL. The raving idiot! + +ELECTRESS. Whom did he call thus? + +THE PRINCE (_clutching at the wreath_). + Beloved, why do you recoil? My Natalie! + + [_He snatches a glove from the_ PRINCESS' _hand._] + +HOHENZOLL. Heaven and earth! What laid he hands on there? + +COURTIER. The wreath? + +NATALIE. No, no! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_opening the door_). Hither! This way, my + liege! + So the whole scene may vanish from his eye! + +ELECTOR. Back to oblivion, with you, oblivion, + Sir Prince of Homburg! On the battle-field, + If you be so disposed, we meet again! + Such matters men attain not in a dream! + +[_They all go out; the door crashes shut in the_ PRINCE'S _face. +Pause._] + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _remains standing before the door a moment in +perplexity; then dreamily descends from the terrace, the hand holding +the glove pressed against his forehead. At the foot of the stair he +turns again, gazing up at the door._ + + + +SCENE III + +_Enter_ COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _by the wicket below. A page follows him. +The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. + +PAGE (Softly). + Count! Listen, do! Most worshipful Sir + Count! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_vexed_). + Grasshopper! Well? What's wanted? + +PAGE. I am sent-- + +HOHENZOLL. Speak softly now, don't wake him with your chirping! + Come now! What's up? + +PAGE. The Elector sent me hither. + He charges you that, when the Prince awakes, + You breathe no word to him about the jest + It was his pleasure to allow himself. + +HOHENZOLLERN (softly). + You skip off to the wheatfield for some sleep. + I knew that, hours ago. So run along. + + + + SCENE IV + +COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _and the_ PRINCE of HOMBURG. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_taking a position some distance behind the_ PRINCE _who + is still gazing fixedly up toward the terrace_). + Arthur! + + [_The_ PRINCE _drops to the ground._] + + And there he lies! + You could not do it better with a bullet. + + [_He approaches him._] + + Now I am eager for the fairy-tale + He'll fabricate to show the reason why + Of all the world he chose this place to sleep in. + + [_He bends over him._] + + Arthur! Hi! Devil's own! What are you up to? + What are you doing here at dead of night? + +THE PRINCE. Ah, dear, old fellow! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, I'm hanged! See here! + The cavalry's a full hour down the road + And you, their colonel, you lie here and sleep. + +THE PRINCE. What cavalry? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Mamelukes, of course! + Sure as I live and breathe, the man's forgot + That he commands the riders of the Mark! + +THE PRINCE (rising). + My helmet, quick then! My cuirass! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Where are they? + +THE PRINCE. Off to the right there, Harry.--On the stool. + +HOHENZOLL. Where? On the stool? + +THE PRINCE. I laid them there, I thought-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him). + Then go and get them from the stool yourself. + +THE PRINCE. What's this glove doing here + + [He stares at the glove in his hand.] + +HOHENZOLLERN. How should I know? + [Aside.] Curses! He must have torn that + unobserved from the lady niece's arm. [Abruptly.] Quick + now, be off! + What are you waiting for? + +THE PRINCE (casting the glove away again). + I'm coming, coming. + Hi, Frank! The knave I told to wake me must + have-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him). + It's raving mad he is! + +THE PRINCE. Upon my oath, Harry, my dear, I don't know where I am. + +HOHENZOLL. In Fehrbellin, you muddle-headed dreamer-- + You're in a by-path of the Castle gardens. + +THE PRINCE (to himself). + Engulf me, Night! Unwittingly once more + In slumber through the moonshine have I + strayed! [He pulls himself together.] + Forgive me! Now I know! Last night, recall, + The heat was such one scarce could lie in bed. + I crept exhausted hither to this garden, + And because Night with so sweet tenderness + Encompassed me, fair-haired and odorous Night-- + Even as the Persian bride wraps close her lover, + Lo, here I laid my head upon her lap. + What is the clock now? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Half an hour of midnight. + +THE PRINCE. And you aver the troops are on the march? + +HOHENZOLL. Upon my word, sharp, stroke of ten, as planned. + The Princess Orange regiment in van, + By this undoubtedly has reached the heights + Of Hackelwitz, there in the face of Wrangel + To cloak the army's hid approach at dawn. + +THE PRINCE. Well, no harm's done. Old Kottwitz captains her + And he knows every purpose of this march. + I should have been compelled, at all events + By two, to come back hither for the council: + Those were the orders. So it's just as well + I stayed in the beginning. Let's be off. + The Elector has no inkling? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bah! How should he? + He's tight abed and snoozing long ago. + + [_They are about to depart when the_ PRINCE _starts, turns, and picks + up the glove_.] + +THE PRINCE. I dreamed such an extraordinary dream! + It seemed as though the palace of a king, + Radiant with gold and silver, suddenly + Oped wide its doors, and from its terrace high + The galaxy of those my heart loves best + Came down to me: + The Elector and his Lady and the--third-- + What is her name? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Whose? + +THE PRINCE (_searching his memory_). Why, the one I mean! + A mute must find his tongue to speak her name. + +HOHENZOLL. The Platen girl? + +THE PRINCE. Come, come, now! + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Ramin + +THE PRINCE. No, no, old fellow! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bork? Or Winterfeld? + +THE PRINCE. No, no! My word! You fail to see the pearl + For the bright circlet that but sets it off! + +HOHENZOLL. Damn it, then, tell me! I can't guess the face! + What lady do you mean? + +THE PRINCE. Well, never mind. + The name has slipped from me since I awoke, + And goes for little in the story. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, + Let's have it then! + +THE PRINCE. But now, don't interrupt me!-- + And the Elector of the Jovelike brow, + Holding a wreath of laurel in his hand, + Stands close beside me, and the soul of me + To ravish quite, twines round the jeweled band + That hangs about his neck, and unto one + Gives it to press upon my locks--Oh, friend! + +HOHENZOLL. To whom? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend! + +HOHENZOLLERN. To whom then? Come, speak up! + +THE PRINCE. I think it must have been the Platen girl. + +HOHENZOLL. Platen? Oh, bosh! Not she who's off in Prussia? + +THE PRINCE. Really, the Platen girl. Or the Ramin? + +HOHENZOLL. Lord, the Ramin! She of the brick-red hair? + The Platen girl with those coy, violet eyes-- + They say you fancy _her_. + +THE PRINCE. I fancy her-- + +HOHENZOLL. So, and you say she handed you the wreath? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, like some deity of fame she lifts + High up the circlet with its dangling chain + As if to crown a hero. I stretch forth, + Oh, in delight unspeakable, my hands + I stretch to seize it, yearning with my soul + To sink before her feet. But as the odor + That floats above green valleys, by the wind's + Cool breathing is dispelled, the group recedes + Up the high terrace from me; lo, the terrace + Beneath my tread immeasurably distends + To heaven's very gate. I clutch at air + Vainly to right, to left I clutch at air, + Of those I loved hungering to capture one. + In vain! The palace portal opes amain. + A flash of lightning from within engulfs them; + Rattling, the door flies to. Only a glove + I ravish from the sweet dream-creature's arm + In passionate pursuing; and a glove, + By all the gods, awaking, here I hold! + +HOHENZOLL. Upon my word--and, you assume, the glove + Must be her glove? + +THE PRINCE. Whose? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, the Platen girl's. + +THE PRINCE. Platen! Of course. Or could it be Ramin's + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a laugh_). + Rogue that you are with your mad fantasies! + Who knows from what exploit delectable + Here in a waking hour with flesh and blood + The glove sticks to your hand, now? + +THE PRINCE. Eh? What? I? + With all my love-- + +HOHENZOLLERN. Oh, well then, what's the odds? + Call it the Platen lady, or Ramin. + There is a Prussian post on Sunday next, + So you can find out by the shortest way + Whether your lady fair has lost a glove. + Off! Twelve o'clock! And we stand here and jaw! + +THE PRINCE (_dreamily into space_). + Yes, you are right. Come, let us go to bed. + But as I had it on my mind to say-- + Is the Electress who arrived in camp + Not long since with her niece, the exquisite + Princess of Orange, is she still about? + +HOHENZOLL. Why?--I declare the idiot thinks-- + +THE PRINCE. Why? + I've orders to have thirty mounted men + Escort them safely from the battle-lines. + Ramin has been detailed to lead them. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bosh! + They're gone long since, or just about to go. + The whole night long, Ramin, all rigged for flight, + Has hugged the door. But come. It's stroke o' twelve. + And I, for one, before the fight begins, + I want to get some sleep. + + + +SCENE V + +_The same. Hall in the palace. In the distance, the sound of cannon. +The ELECTRESS and PRINCESS NATALIE, dressed for travel, enter, +escorted by a gentleman-in-waiting, and sit down at the side. +Ladies-in-waiting. A little later the ELECTOR enters with +FIELD-MARSHAL. DÖRFLING, the PRINCE OF HOMBURG with the glove in his +collar, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, COUNT TRUCHSZ, COLONEL HENNINGS, +TROOP-CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ and several other generals, colonels and +minor officers._ + +ELECTOR. What is that cannonading?--Is it Götz? + +DÖRFLING. It's Colonel Götz, my liege, who yesterday + Pushed forward with the van. An officer + Has come from him already to allay + Your apprehensions ere they come to birth. + A Swedish outpost of a thousand men + Has pressed ahead into the Hackel Hills, + But for those hills Götz stands security + And sends me word that you should lay your plans + As though his van already held them safe. + +ELECTOR (_to the officers_). + The Marshal knows the plan. Now, gentlemen, + I beg you take your pens and write it down. + +[_The officers assemble on the other side about the_ FIELD-MARSHAL, +_and take out their tablets. The_ ELECTOR _turns to a +gentleman-in-waiting_.] + +Ramin is waiting with the coach outside? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. +At once, my sovereign. They are hitching now. + +ELECTOR (_seating himself on a chair behind the_ ELECTRESS _and the_ +PRINCESS). + Ramin shall escort my belovèd wife, + Convoyed by thirty sturdy cavalrymen. + To Kalkhuhn's, to the chancellor's manor-house. + At Havelberg beyond the Havel, go. + There's not a Swede dare show his face there now. + +ELECTRESS. The ferry is restored? + +ELECTOR. At Havelberg? + I have arranged for it. The day will break + In all events before you come to it. + + [_Pause_.] + + You are so quiet, Natalie, my girl? + What ails the child? + +NATALIE. Uncle, I am afraid. + +ELECTOR. And yet my little girl was not more safe + In her own mother's lap than she is now. + + [_Pause_.] + +ELECTRESS. When do you think that we shall meet again? + +ELECTOR. If God grants me the victory, as I + Doubt not He will, in a few days, perhaps. + +[_Pages enter and serve the ladies refreshments_. FIELD-MARSHAL +DÖRFLING _dictates. The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG, _pen and tablet in hand, +stares at the ladies_.] + +MARSHAL. The battle-plan his Highness has devised + Intends, my lords, in order that the Swedes' + Fugitive host be utterly dispersed, + The severing of their army from the bridges + That guard their rear along the river Rhyn. + Thus Colonel Hennings-- + +HENNINGS. Here! + + [_He writes_.] + +MARSHAL. Who by the will + Of his liege lord commands the army's right, + Shall seek by stealthy passage through the bush + To circumscribe the enemy's left wing, + Fearlessly hurl his force between the foe + And the three bridges; then, joined with Count Truchsz-- + Count Truchsz! + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Here! + +MARSHAL. Thereupon, joined with Count Truchsz-- + + [_He pauses_.] + + Who, meanwhile, facing Wrangel on the heights + Has gained firm footing with his cannonry-- + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Firm footing with his cannonry-- + +MARSHAL. You hear it?-- + + [_Proceeding_.] + + Attempt to drive the Swedes into the swamp + Which lies behind their right. + + [_A lackey enters_.] + + LACKEY. Madam, the coach is at the door. + + [_The ladies rise_.] + +MARSHAL. The Prince of Homburg-- + +ELECTOR (_also rising_). Is Ramin at hand? + +LACKEY. He's in the saddle, waiting at the gates. + + [_The royalties take leave of one another_.] + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Which lies behind their right. + +MARSHAL. The Prince of Homburg-- + Where is the Prince of Homburg? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_in a whisper_). Arthur! + +THE PRINCE (_with a start_). Here! + +HOHENZOLL. Have you gone mad? + +THE PRINCE. My Marshal, to command! + +[_He flushes, and, taking out pen and parchment, writes._] + +MARSHAL. To whom His Highness, trusting that he lead + His force to glory as at Rathenow, + Confides the mounted squadrons of the Mark + + [_He hesitates._] + + Though in no way disprizing Colonel Kottwitz + Who shall be aid in counsel and right hand-- + + [_To_ CAPTAIN GOLZ _in a low voice._] + + Is Kottwitz here? + +GOLZ. No, General. He has, + You note, dispatched me hither in his place + To take the battle order from your lips. + + [_The_ PRINCE _gazes over toward the ladies again._] + +MARSHAL (_continuing_). + Takes station in the plain near Hackelwitz + Facing the right wing of the enemy + Well out of range of the artillery fire. + +GOLZ (_writing_). Well out of range of the artillery fire. + +[_The_ ELECTRESS _ties a scarf about the_ PRINCESS' _throat. The_ +PRINCESS, _about to draw on a glove, looks around as if she were in +search of something._] + +ELECTOR (_approaches her_). + Dear little girl of mine, what have you lost? + +ELECTRESS. What are you searching for? + +NATALIE. Why, Auntie dear, + My glove! I can't imagine-- + + [_They all look about._] + +ELECTOR (_to the ladies-in-waiting_). Would you mind?-- + +ELECTRESS (_to the_ PRINCESS). It's in your hand. + +NATALIE. The right glove; but the left? + +ELECTOR. You may have left it in your bedroom. + +NATALIE. Oh, + Bork, if you will? + +ELECTOR _(to the lady-in-waiting)_. Quick, quick! + +NATALIE. Look on the mantel. + + [_The lady-in-waiting goes out.-] + +THE PRINCE _(aside)_. + Lord of my life? Could I have heard aright? + + [_He draws the glove from his collar._] + +MARSHAL _(looking down at the paper which he holds in + his hand)_. + Well out of range of the artillery fire. + + [_Continuing_.] + + The Prince's Highness-- + +THE PRINCE _(regarding now the glove, now the PRINCESS)_. + It's this glove she's seeking-- + +MARSHAL. At our lord sovereign's express command-- + +GOLZ _(writing)_. At our lord sovereign's express command-- + +MARSHAL. Whichever way the tide of battle turn + Shall budge not from his designated place. + +THE PRINCE. Quick! Now I'll know in truth if it be hers. + +_[He lets the glove fall, together with his handkerchief; then +recovers the handkerchief but leaves the glove lying where everybody +can see it.]_ + +MARSHAL _(piqued)_. What is His Highness up to? + +HOHENZOLLERN _(aside)_. Arthur! + +THE PRINCE. Here! + +HOHENZOLL. Faith, you're possessed! + +THE PRINCE. My Marshal, to command! + + _[He takes up pen and tablet once more. The_ MARSHAL _regards him an + instant, questioningly. Pause.]_ + +GOLZ _(reading, after he has finished writing)_. + Shall budge not from his designated place. + +MARSHAL (continues). + Until, hard pressed by Hennings and by + Truchsz-- + +THE PRINCE (looking over GOLZ's shoulder). + Who, my dear Golz? What? I? + +GOLZ. Why, yes. Who else + +THE PRINCE. I shall not budge-- + +GOLZ. That's it. + +MARSHAL. Well, have you got it + +THE PRINCE (aloud). + Shall budge not from my designated place. + + [He writes.] + +MARSHAL. Until, hard pressed by Hennings and by + Truchsz-- [He pauses.] + The left wing of the enemy, dissolved, + Plunges upon its right, and wavering + The massed battalions crowd into the plain, + Where, in the marsh, criss-crossed by ditch on ditch, + The plan intends that they be wholly crushed. + +ELECTOR. Lights, pages! Come, my dear, your arm, + and yours. + +[He starts to go out with the ELECTRESS and the PRINCESS.] + +MARSHAL. Then he shall let the trumpets sound the + charge. + +ELECTRESS (as several officers, bowing and scraping, bid her + farewell). + Pray, let me not disturb you, gentlemen.-- + Until we meet again! + + [The MARSHAL also bids her good-by.] + +ELECTOR (suddenly standing still). Why, here we are! + The lady's glove. Come, quick now! There it is. + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. Where? + +ELECTOR. At our cousin's, at Prince Homburg's feet. + +THE PRINCE. What! At my feet! The glove? It is your own? + + [He picks it up and brings it to the PRINCESS.] + +NATALIE. I thank you, noble Prince. + +THE PRINCE (confused). Then it is yours? + +NATALIE. Yes, it is mine; it is the one I lost. + + [She takes it and draws it on.] + +ELECTRESS (turning to the PRINCESS, she goes out). + Farewell! Farewell! Good luck! God keep you safe! + See that erelong we joyously may meet! + + +[The ELECTOR goes out with the ladies. Attendants, courtiers and pages +follow.] + + +THE PRINCE (stands an instant as though struck by a bolt + from heaven; then with triumphant step he + returns to the group of officers). + Then he shall let the trumpets sound the charge! + + [He, pretends to write.] + +MARSHAL (looking down at his paper). + Then he shall let the trumpets sound the charge.-- + However, the Elector's Highness, lest + Through some mistake the blow should fall too soon-- + + [He pauses.] + +GOLZ (writes). Through some mistake the blow should fall + too soon-- + +THE PRINCE (aside to COUNT HOHENZOLLERN in great + perturbation). + Oh, Harry! + +HOHENZOLLERN (impatiently). + What's up now? What's in your head? + +THE PRINCE. Did you not see? + +HOHENZOLLERN. In Satan's name, shut up! + +MARSHAL (continuing). + Shall send an officer of his staff to him; + Who, mark this well, shall finally transmit + The order for the charge against the foe. + Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge. + + [The PRINCE gazes dreamily into space.] + + Well, have you got it? + +GOLZ (_writes_). Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge. + +MARSHAL (_in raised tone_). + Your Highness has it down? + +THE PRINCE. Marshal? + +MARSHAL. I asked + If you had writ it down? + +THE PRINCE. About the trumpets? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_aside, with emphatic indignation_). + Trumpets be damned! Not till the order-- + +GOLZ (_in the same tone_). Not + Till he himself-- + +THE PRINCE (_interrupting_). Naturally not, before-- + But then he'll let the trumpets sound the + charge. + + [_He writes. Pause._] + +MARSHAL. And I desire--pray note it, Baron Golz-- + Before the action opens, to confer + With Colonel Kottwitz, if it can be done. + +GOLZ (_significantly_). He shall receive your message. Rest assured. + + [_Pause._] + +ELECTOR (_returning_). + What now, my colonels and my generals! + The morning breaks. Have you the orders down? + +MARSHAL. The thing is done, my liege. Your battle-plan + Is in all points made clear to your commanders. + +ELECTOR (_picking up his hat and gloves_). + And you, I charge, Prince Homburg, learn control! + Recall, you forfeited two victories + Of late, upon the Rhine, so keep your head! + Make me not do without the third today. + My land and throne depend on it, no less. + + [_To the officers._] + Come!--Frank! + +A GROOM (_entering_). Here! + +ELECTOR. Quick there! Saddle me my gray! + I will be on the field before the sun! + +[_He goes out, followed by generals, colonels and minor officers._] + + + + SCENE VI + +THE PRINCE (_coming forward_). + Now, on thine orb, phantasmic creature, Fortune, + Whose veil a faint wind's breathing even now + Lifts as a sail, roll hither! Thou hast touched + My hair in passing; as thou hovered'st near + Already from thy horn of plenty thou + Benignantly hast cast me down a pledge. + Child of the gods, today, O fugitive one, + I will pursue thee on the field of battle, + Seize thee, tear low thy horn of plenty, pour + Wholly thy radiant blessings round my feet, + Though sevenfold chains of iron bind thee fast + To the triumphant chariot of the Swede! + + [_Exit._] + + + +ACT II + +_Scene: Battlefield of Fehrbellin._ + +SCENE I + +COLONEL KOTTWITZ, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ _and other +officers enter at the head of the cavalry._ + + +KOTTWITZ (_outside_). Halt! Squadron, halt! Dismount! + +HOHENZOLLERN AND GOLZ (_entering_). Halt, halt! + +KOTTWITZ. Hey, friends, who'll help me off my horse? + +HOHENZOLLERN AND GOLZ. Here--here! + + [_They step outside again._] + +KOTTWITZ (_still outside_). + Thanks to you-ouch! Plague take me! May a son + Be giv'n you for your pains, a noble son + Who'll do the same for you when you grow sear. + +[He enters, followed by_ HOHENZOLLERN, GOLZ _and others._] + + Oh, in the saddle I am full of youth! + When I dismount, though, there's a battle on + As though the spirit and the flesh were parting, + In wrath. [_Looking about._] Where is our + chief, the Prince's Highness? + +HOHENZOLL. The Prince will momentarily return. + +KOTTWITZ. Where has he gone? + HOHENZOLLERN. He rode down to a hamlet, + In foliage hidden, so you passed it by. + He will return erelong. + +OFFICER. Last night, they say, + His horse gave him a tumble. + +HOHENZOLLERN. So they say. + +KOTTWITZ. He fell? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_turning_). A matter of no consequence. + His horse shied at the mill, but down his flank + He lightly slipped and did himself no harm. + It is not worth the shadow of a thought. + +KOTTWITZ (_ascending a slight elevation_). + A fine day, as I breathe the breath of life! + A day our God, the lofty Lord of earth, + For sweeter things than deadly combat made. + Ruddily gleams the sunlight through the clouds + And with the lark the spirit flutters up + Exultant to the joyous airs of heaven! + +GOLZ. Did you succeed in finding Marshal Dorfling? + +KOTTWITZ (_coming forward_). + The Devil, no! What does my lord expect? + Am I a bird, an arrow, an idea, + That he should bolt me round the entire field? + I was at Hackel hillock with the van + And with the rearguard down in Hackel vale. + The one man whom I saw not was the Marshal! + Wherefore I made my way back to my men. + +GOLZ. He will be ill-content. He had, it seemed, + A matter of some import to confide. + +OFFICER. His Highness comes, our commandant, the Prince! + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _with a black bandage on his left hand. The +others as before._ + +KOTTWITZ. My young and very noble prince, God greet you! + Look, how I formed the squadrons down that road + While you were tarrying in the nest below. + I do believe you'll say I've done it well. + +THE PRINCE. Good morning, Kottwitz! And good morning, friends! + You know that I praise everything you do. + +HOHENZOLL. What were you up to in the village, Arthur? + You seem so grave. + +THE PRINCE. I--I was in the chapel + That beckoned through the placid village trees; + The bells were ringing, calling men to prayers, + As we passed by, and something urged me on + To kneel before the altar, too, and pray. + +KOTTWITZ. A pious gentleman for one so young! + A deed, believe me, that begins with prayer + Must end in glory, victory, and fame. + +THE PRINCE. Oh, by the way, I wanted to inquire-- + + [_He draws the_ COUNT _forward a step._] + + Harry, what was it Dorfling said last night + In his directions, that applied to me? + +HOHENZOLL. You were distraught. I saw that well enough. + +THE PRINCE. Distraught--divided! I scarce know what ailed me. + Dictation always sets my wits awry. + +HOHENZOLL. Not much for you this time, as luck would have it. + Hennings and Truchsz, who lead the infantry, + Are designated to attack the foe, + And you are ordered here to halt and stay, + Ready for instant action with the horse, + Until an order summon you to charge. + +THE PRINCE (_after a pause, dreamily_). + A curious thing! + +HOHENZOLLERN. To what do you refer? + + [_He looks at him. A cannon-shot is heard._] + +KOTTWITZ. Ho, gentlemen! Ho, sirs! To horse, to horse! + That shot is Hennings', and the fight is on! + + [_They all ascend a slight elevation._] + +THE PRINCE. Who is it? What? + +HOHENZOLLERN. It's Colonel Hennings, Arthur, + He's stolen his way about to Wrangel's rear. + Come, you can watch the entire field from here. + +GOLZ (_on the hillock_). + At the Rhyn there, how terribly he uncoils! + +THE PRINCE (_shading his eyes with his hand_). + Is Hennings over there on our right wing? + +1ST OFFICER. Indeed, Your Highness. + +THE PRINCE. What the devil then + Why, yesterday he held our army's right. + + [_Cannonade in the distance._] + +KOTTWITZ. Thunder and lightning! Wrangel's cutting loose + At Hennings' now, from twelve loud throats of fire. + +1ST OFFICER. I call those _some_ redoubts the Swedes have there! + +2D OFFICER. By heaven, look, they top the very spire + Rising above the hamlet at their back! + + [_Shots near-by._] + +GOLZ. That's Truchsz! + +THE PRINCE. Truchsz? + +KOTTWITZ. To be sure! Of course, it's Truchsz, + Approaching from the front to his support. + +THE PRINCE. What's Truchsz there in the centre for, today? + + [_Loud cannonading._] + +GOLZ. Good heavens, look. The village is afire! + +3D OFFICER. Afire, as I live! + +1ST OFFICER. Afire! Afire! + The flames are darting up the steeple now! + +GOLZ. Hey! How the Swedish aides fly right and left! + +2D OFFICER. They're in retreat! + +KOTTWITZ. Where? + +1ST OFFICER. There, at their right flank! + +3D OFFICER. In masses! Sure enough! Three regiments! + The intention seems to be to brace the left. + +2D OFFICER. My faith! And now the horse are ordered out + To screen the right living's march! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a laugh_). Hi! How they'll scamper + When they get ware of us here in the vale! + + [_Musketry fire._] + +KOTTWITZ. Look, brothers, look! + +2D OFFICER. Hark! + +1ST OFFICER. Fire of musketry! + +3D OFFICER. They're at each other now in the redoubts! + +GOLZ. My God, in my born days I never heard + Such thunder of artillery! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Shoot! Shoot! + Burst open wide the bowels of the earth! + The cleft shall be your corpses' sepulchre! + + [_Pause. Shouts of victory in the distance._] + +1ST OFFICER. Lord in the heavens, who grants men victories! + Wrangel is in retreat already! + +HOHENZOLLERN. No! + +GOLZ. By heaven, friends! Look! There on his left + flank! + He's drawing back his guns from the redoubts! + +ALL. Oh, triumph! Triumph! Victory is ours! + +THE PRINCE (_descending from the hillock_). + On, Kottwitz, follow me! + +KOTTWITZ. Come, cool now--cool! + +THE PRINCE. On! Let the trumpets sound the charge! + And on! + +KOTTWITZ. Cool, now, I say. + +THE PRINCE (_wildly_). + By heaven and earth and hell! + +KOTTWITZ. Our liege's Highness in the ordinance + Commanded we should wait his orders here. + Golz, read the gentlemen the ordinance. + +THE PRINCE. Orders? Eh, Kottwitz, do you ride so slow? + Have you not heard the orders of your heart? + +KOTTWITZ. Orders? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Absurd! + +KOTTWITZ. The orders of my heart? + +HOHENZOLL. Listen to reason, Arthur! + +GOLZ. Here, my chief! + +KOTTWITZ (_offended_). + Oh, ho! you give me that, young gentleman?--The + nag you dance about on, at a pinch + I'll tow him home yet at my horse's tail! + March, march, my gentlemen! Trumpets, the + charge! + On to the battle, on! Kottwitz is game! + +GOLZ (_to_ KOTTWITZ). + Never, my colonel, never! No, I swear! + +2D OFFICER. Remember, Hennings' not yet at the Rhyn! + +1ST OFFICER. Relieve him of his sword! + +THE PRINCE. My sword, you say? + + [_He pushes him back_.] + + Hi, you impertinent boy, who do not even + Know yet the Ten Commandments of the Mark! + Here is your sabre, and the scabbard with it! + +[_He tears off the officer's sword together with the belt_.] + +1ST OFFICER (_reeling_). + By God, Prince, that's-- + +THE PRINCE (_threateningly_). + If you don't hold your tongue-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (_to the officer_). + Silence! You must be mad! + +THE PRINCE (_giving up the sword_). + Ho, corporal's guard! + Off to headquarters with the prisoner! + + [_To_ KOTTWITZ _and the other officers_.] + + Now, gentlemen, the countersign: A knave + Who follows not his general to the fight!-- + Now, who dares lag? + +KOTTWITZ. You heard. Why thunder more? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_mollifying_). + It was advice, no more, they sought to give. + +KOTTWITZ. On your head be it. I go with you. + +THE PRINCE (_somewhat calmed_). Come! + Be it upon my head then. Follow, brothers! + + [_Exeunt_.] + + + +SCENE III + +_A room in a village. A gentleman-in-waiting, booted and spurred, +enters. A peasant and his wife are sitting at a table, at work._ + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + God greet you, honest folk! Can you make room + To shelter guests beneath your roof? + +PEASANT. Indeed! + Gladly, indeed! + +THE WIFE. And may one question, whom? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + The highest lady in the land, no less. + Her coach broke down outside the village gates, + And since we hear the victory is won + There'll be no need for farther journeying. + +BOTH (_rising_). + The victory won? Heaven! + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. What! You haven't heard? + The Swedish army's beaten hip and thigh; + If not forever, for the year at least + The Mark need fear no more their fire and sword!-- + Here comes the mother of our people now. + + + +SCENE IV + +_The_ ELECTRESS, _pale and distressed, enters with the_ PRINCESS +NATALIE, _followed by various ladies-in-waiting. The others as +before._ + +ELECTRESS (_on the threshold_). + Bork! Winterfeld! Come! Let me have your arm. + +NATALIE (_going to her_). + Oh, mother mine! + +LADIES-IN-WAITING. Heavens, how pale! She is faint. + + [_They support her._] + +ELECTRESS. Here, lead me to a chair, I must sit down. + Dead, said he--dead? + +NATALIE. Mother, my precious mother! + +ELECTRESS. I'll see this bearer of dread news myself. + + + + +SCENE V + +CAPTAIN VON MÖRNER _enters, wounded, supported by two troopers. The +others._ + +ELECTRESS. Oh, herald of dismay, what do you bring? + +MÖRNER. Oh, precious Madam, what these eyes of mine + To their eternal grief themselves have seen! + +ELECTRESS. So be it! Tell! + +MÖRNER. The Elector is no more. + +NATALIE. Oh, heaven + Shall such a hideous blow descend on us? + + [_She hides her face in her hands._] + +ELECTRESS. Give me report of how he came to fall-- + And, as the bolt that strikes the wanderer, + In one last flash lights scarlet-bright the world, + So be your tale. When you are done, may night + Close down upon my head. + +MÖRNER (_approaching her, led by the two troopers_). + The Prince of Homburg, + Soon as the enemy, hard pressed by Truchsz, + Reeling broke cover, had brought up his troops + To the attack of Wrangel on the plain; + Two lines he'd pierced and, as they broke, destroyed, + When a strong earthwork hemmed his way; and thence + So murderous a fire on him beat + That, like a field of grain, his cavalry, + Mowed to the earth, went down; twixt bush and hill + He needs must halt to mass his scattered corps. + +NATALIE (_to the_ ELECTRESS). + Dearest, be strong! + +ELECTRESS. Stop, dear. Leave me alone. + +MÖRNER. That moment, watching, clear above the dust, + We see our liege beneath the battle-flags + Of Truchsz's regiments ride on the foe. + On his white horse, oh, gloriously he rode, + Sunlit, and lighting the triumphant plain. + Heart-sick with trepidation at the sight + Of him, our liege, bold in the battle's midst, + We gather on a hillock's beetling brow; + When of a sudden the Elector falls, + Horseman and horse, in dust before our eyes. + Two standard-bearers fell across his breast + And overspread his body with their flags. + +NATALIE. Oh, mother mine! + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. Oh, heaven! + +ELECTRESS. Go on, go on! + +MÖRNER. At this disastrous spectacle, a pang + Unfathomable seized the Prince's heart; + Like a wild beast, spurred on of hate and vengeance, + Forward he lunged with us at the redoubt. + Flying, we cleared the trench and, at a bound, + The shelt'ring breastwork, bore the garrison down, + Scattered them out across the field, destroyed; + Capturing the Swede's whole panoply of war-- + Cannon and standards, kettle-drums and flags. + And had the group of bridges at the Rhyn + Hemmed not our murderous course, not one had lived + Who might have boasted at his father's hearth + At Fehrbellin I saw the hero fall! + +ELECTRESS. Triumph too dearly bought! I like it not. + Give me again the purchase-price it cost. + + [_She falls in a faint._] + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. + Help, God in heaven! Her senses flee from + her. + + [NATALIE _is weeping._] + + + +SCENE VI + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _enters. The others._ + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Natalie, my dearest! + + [_Greatly moved, he presses her hand to his heart._] + +NATALIE. Then it is true? + +THE PRINCE. Could I but answer No! + Could I but pour my loyal heart's blood out + To call his loyal heart back into life! + +NATALIE (_drying her tears_). + Where is his body? Have they found it yet? + +THE PRINCE. Until this hour, alas, my labor was + Vengeance on Wrangle only; how could I + Then dedicate myself to such a task? + A horde of men, however, I sent forth + To seek him on the battle-plains of death. + Ere night I do not doubt that he will come. + +NATALIE. Who now will lead us in this terrible war + And keep these Swedes in subjugation? Who + Shield us against this world of enemies + His fortune won for us, his high renown? + +THE PRINCE (_taking her hand_). + I, lady, take upon myself your cause! + Before the desolate footsteps of your throne + I shall stand guard, an angel with a sword! + The Elector hoped, before the year turned tide, + To see the Marches free. So be it! I + Executor will be of that last will. + +NATALIE. My cousin, dearest cousin! + + [_She withdraws her hand._] + +THE PRINCE. Natalie! + + [_A moment's pause._] + +What holds the future now in store for you? + +NATALIE. After this thunderbolt which cleaves the ground + Beneath my very feet, what can I do? + My father and my precious mother rest + Entombed at Amsterdam; in dust and ashes + Dordrecht, my heritage ancestral lies. + Pressed hard by the tyrannic hosts of Spain + Maurice, my kin of Orange, scarcely knows + How he shall shelter his own flesh and blood. + And now the last support that held my fate's + Frail vine upright falls from me to the earth. + Oh, I am orphaned now a second time! + +THE PRINCE (_throwing his arm about her waist_). + Oh, friend, sweet friend, were this dark hour not given + To grief, to be its own, thus would I speak + Oh, twine your branches here about this breast, + Which, blossoming long years in solitude, + Yearns for the wondrous fragrance of your bells. + +NATALIE. My dear, good cousin! + +THE PRINCE. Will you, will you? + +NATALIE. Ah, + If I might grow into its very marrow! + + [_She lays her head upon his breast._] + +THE PRINCE. What did you say + +NATALIE. Go now! + +THE PRINCE (_holding her_). Into its kernel! + Into the heart's deep kernel, Natalie! + + [_He kisses her. She tears herself away.] + + Dear God, were he for whom we grieve but here + To look upon this union! Could we lift + To him our plea: Father, thy benison! + +[_He hides his face in his hands;_ NATALIE _turns again to the_ +ELECTRESS.] + + + +SCENE VII + +_A sergeant enters in haste. The others as before._ + +SERGEANT. By the Almighty God, my Prince, I scarce + Dare bring to you the rumor that's abroad!-- + The Elector lives! + +THE PRINCE. He lives! + +SERGEANT. By heaven above! + Count Sparren brought the joyful news but now! + +NATALIE. Lord of my days! Oh, mother, did you hear? + +[_She falls down at the feet of the ELECTRESS and embraces her._] + +THE PRINCE. But say! Who brings the news + +SERGEANT. Count George of Sparren, + Who saw him, hale and sound, with his own eyes + At Hackelwitz amid the Truchszian corps. + +THE PRINCE. Quick! Run, old man! And bring him in to me! + + [_The_ SERGEANT _goes out._] + + + +SCENE VIII + +COUNT SPARREN _and the Sergeant enter. The others as before._ + +ELECTRESS. Oh, do not cast me twice down the abyss! + +NATALIE. No, precious mother mine! + +ELECTRESS. And Frederick lives? + +NATALIE (_holding her up with both hands_). + The peaks of life receive you once again! + +SERGEANT (_entering_). + Here is the officer! + +THE PRINCE. Ah, Count von Sparren! + You saw His Highness fresh and well disposed + At Hackelwitz amid the Truchszian corps? + +SPARREN. Indeed, Your Highness, in the vicarage court + Where, compassed by his staff, he gave commands + For burial of both the armies' dead. + +LADIES-IN-WAITING. + Dear heaven! On thy breast-- + + [_They embrace._] + +ELECTRESS. My daughter dear! + +NATALIE. Oh, but this rapture is well-nigh too great! + + [_She buries her face in her aunt's lap._] + +THE PRINCE. Did I not see him, when I stood afar + Heading my cavalry, dashed down to earth, + His horse and he shivered by cannon-shot? + +SPARREN. Indeed, the horse pitched with his rider down, + But he who rode him, Prince, was not our liege. + +THE PRINCE. What? Not our liege? + +NATALIE. Oh, wonderful! + +[_She rises and remains standing beside the_ ELECTRESS.] + +THE PRINCE. Speak then! + Weighty as gold each word sinks to my heart. + +SPARREN. Then let me give you tidings of a deed + So moving, ear has never heard its like. + Our country's liege, who, to remonstrance deaf, + Rode his white horse again, the gleaming white + That Froben erstwhile bought for him in England, + Became once more, as ever was the case, + The target for the foe's artillery. + Scarce could the members of his retinue + Within a ring of hundred yards approach + About there and about, a stream of death, + Hurtled grenades and cannon-shot and shell. + They that had lives to save fled to its banks. + He, the strong swimmer, he alone shrank not, + But beckoning his friends, unswervingly + Made toward the high lands whence the river came. + +THE PRINCE. By heaven, i' faith! A gruesome sight it was! + +SPARREN. Froben, the Master of the Horse who rode + Closest to him of all, called out to me + "Curses this hour on this white stallion's hide, + I bought in London for a stiff round sum! + I'd part with fifty ducats, I'll be bound, + Could I but veil him with a mouse's gray." + With hot misgiving he draws near and cries, + "Highness, your horse is skittish; grant me leave + To give him just an hour of schooling more." + And leaping from his sorrel at the word + He grasps the bridle of our liege's beast. + Our liege dismounts, still smiling, and replies + "As long as day is in the sky, I doubt + If he will learn the art you wish to teach. + But give your lesson out beyond those hills + Where the foe's gunners will not heed his fault." + Thereon he mounts the sorrel, Froben's own, + Returning thence to where his duty calls. + But scarce is Froben mounted on the white + When from a breastwork, oh! a murder-shell + Tears him to earth, tears horse and rider low. + A sacrifice to faithfulness, he falls; + And from him not a sound more did we hear. + + [_Brief pause._] + +THE PRINCE. He is well paid for! Though I had ten lives + I could not lose them in a better cause! + +NATALIE. Valiant old Froben! + +ELECTRESS (_in tears_). Admirable man! + +NATALIE (_also weeping_). + A meaner soul might well deserve our tears! + +THE PRINCE. Enough! To business! Where's the Elector then + Is Hackelwitz headquarters? + +SPARREN. Pardon, sir! + The Elector has proceeded to Berlin + And begs his generals thence to follow him. + +THE PRINCE. What? To Berlin? You mean the war is done? + +SPARREN. Indeed, I marvel that all this is news. + Count Horn, the Swedish general, has arrived; + And, following his coming, out of hand + The armistice was heralded through camp. + A conference, if I discern aright + The Marshal's meaning, is attached thereto + Perchance that peace itself may follow soon. + +ELECTRESS (_rising_). + Dear God, how wondrously the heavens clear! + +THE PRINCE. Come, let us follow straightway to Berlin. + 'Twould speed my journey much if you could spare + A little space for me within your coach?-- + I've just a dozen words to write to Kottwitz, + And on the instant I'll be at your side. + + [_He sits down and writes._] + +ELECTRESS. Indeed, with all my heart! + +THE PRINCE (_folds the note and gives it to the Sergeant; + then, as he turns again to the ELECTRESS, + softly lays his arm about NATALIE's waist_). + I have a wish, + A something timorously to confide + I thought I might give vent to on the road. + +NATALIE (_tearing herself away_). + Bork! Quick! My scarf, I beg-- + +ELECTRESS. A wish to me? + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. + Princess, the scarf is round your neck. + +THE PRINCE (_to the_ ELECTRESS). Indeed! + Can you not guess? + +ELECTRESS. No-- + +THE PRINCE. Not a syllable? + +ELECTRESS (_abruptly_). + What matter? Not a suppliant on earth + Could I deny today, whate'er he ask, + And you, our battle-hero, least of all! + Come! + +THE PRINCE. Mother! Oh, what did you speak? Those words-- + May I interpret them to suit me best? + +ELECTRESS. Be off, I say! More, later, as we ride! + Come, let me have your arm. + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Cæsar Divus! + Lo, I have set a ladder to thy star! + + [_He leads the ladies out. Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE IX + +_Scene: Berlin. Pleasure garden outside the old palace. In the +background the palace chapel with a staircase leading up to it. +Tolling of bells. The church is brightly illuminated. The body of_ +FROBEN _is carried by and set on a splendid catafalque. The_ ELECTOR, +FIELD-MARSHAL DÖRFLING, COLONEL HENNINGS, COUNT TRUCHSZ _and several +other colonels and minor officers enter. From the opposite side enter +various officers with dispatches. In the church as well as in the +square are men, women and children of all ages._ + +ELECTOR. What man soever led the cavalry + Upon the day of battle, and, before + The force of Colonel Hennings could destroy + The bridges of the foe, of his own will + Broke loose, and forced the enemy to flight + Ere I gave order for it, I assert + That man deserves that he be put to death; + I summon him therefore to be court-martialed.-- + Prince Homburg, then, you say, was not the man? + +TRUCHSZ. No, my liege lord! + +ELECTOR. What proof have you of that? + +TRUCHSZ. Men of the cavalry can testify, + Who told me of 't before the fight began: + The Prince fell headlong from his horse, and, hurt + At head and thigh, men found him in a church + Where some one bound his deep and dangerous wounds. + +ELECTOR. Enough! Our victory this day is great, + And in the church tomorrow will I bear + My gratitude to God. Yet though it were + Mightier tenfold, still would it not absolve + Him through whom chance has granted it to me. + More battles still than this have I to fight, + And I demand subjection to the law. + Whoever led the cavalry to battle, + I reaffirm has forfeited his head, + And to court-martial herewith order him.-- + Come, follow me, my friends, into the church. + + + +SCENE X + +_The_ PRINCE of HOMBURG _enters bearing three Swedish flags, followed +by_ COLONEL KOTTWITZ, _bearing two,_ COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN GOLZ, +COUNT REUSS, _each with a flag; and several other officers, corporals, +and troopers carrying flags, kettle-drums and standards._ + +DÖRFLING (_spying the_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG). + The Prince of Homburg!--Truchsz! What did you mean? + +ELECTOR (_amazed_). + Whence came you, Prince? + +THE PRINCE (_stepping forward a few paces_). + From Fehrbellin, my liege, + And bring you thence these trophies of success! + +[_He lays the three flags before him; the officers, corporals and +troopers do likewise, each with his own._] + +ELECTOR (_frigidly_). + I hear that you are wounded, dangerously? + Count Truchsz! + +THE PRINCE (_gaily_). Forgive! + +COUNT TRUCHSZ. By heaven, I'm amazed! + +THE PRINCE. My sorrel fell before the fight began. + This hand a field-leech bandaged up for me + Scarce merits that you call it wounded. + +ELECTOR. So? + In spite of it you led the cavalry? + +THE PRINCE (_regarding him_). + I? Indeed, I! Must you learn that from me? + Here at your feet I laid the proof of that. + +ELECTOR. Relieve him of his sword. He is a prisoner. + +DÖRFLING (_taken aback_). + Whom? +ELECTOR (_stepping among the flags_). + Ah, God greet you, Kottwitz! + +TRUCHSZ (_aside_). Curses on it! + +KOTTWITZ. By God, I'm utterly-- + +ELECTOR (_looking at him_). What did you say? + Look, what a crop mown for our glory here!-- + That flag is of the Swedish Guards, is't not? + + [_He takes up a flag, unwinds it and studies it._] + +KOTTWITZ. My liege? + +DÖRFLING. My lord and master? + +ELECTOR. Ah, indeed! + And from the time of Gustaf Adolf too. + How runs the inscription? + +KOTTWITZ. I believe-- + +DÖRFLING. "_Per aspera ad astra_!" + +ELECTOR. That was not verified at Fehrbellin. + + [_Pause._] + +KOTTWITZ (_hesitantly_). + My liege, grant me a word. + +ELECTOR. What is 't you wish? + Take all the things-flags, kettle-drums and standards, + And hang them in the church. I plan tomorrow + To use them when we celebrate our triumph! + +[_The ELECTOR turns to the couriers, takes their dispatches, opens and + reads them._] + +KOTTWITZ (_aside_). + That, by the living God, that is too much! + +[_After some hesitation, the Colonel takes up his two flags; the other +officers and troopers follow suit. Finally, as the three flags of the_ +PRINCE _remain untouched, he takes up these also, so that he is now +bearing five._] + +AN OFFICER (_stepping up to the_ PRINCE). + Prince, I must beg your sword. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_carrying his flag_). Quiet now, friend. + +THE PRINCE. Speak! Am I dreaming? Waking? Living? Sane? + +GOLZ. Prince, give your sword, I counsel, and say nothing. + +THE PRINCE. A prisoner? I? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Indeed! + +GOLZ. You heard him say it. + +THE PRINCE. And may one know the reason why? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_emphatically_). Not now! + We told you, at the time, you pressed too soon + Into the battle, when the order was + You should not quit your place till you were called. + +THE PRINCE. Help, help, friends, help! I'm going mad! + +GOLZ (_interrupting_). Calm! calm! + +THE PRINCE. Were the Mark's armies beaten then? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a stamp of his foot_). No matter! + The ordinance demands obedience. + +THE PRINCE (_bitterly_). + So--so, so, so! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_turning away from him_). + It will not cost your head. + +GOLZ (_similarly_). + Tomorrow morning, maybe, you'll be free. + +[_The_ ELECTOR _folds his letters and returns to the circle of + officers._] + +THE PRINCE (_after he has unbuckled his sword_). + My cousin Frederick hopes to play the Brutus + And sees himself, on linen drawn with chalk, + Already seated in the curule chair. + The foreground filled with Swedish battle-flags, + And on his desk the ordinance of the Mark. + By God, in me he shall not find a son + Who shall revere him 'neath the hangman's axe! + A German heart of honest cut and grain, + I look for kindness and nobility; + And when he stands before me, frigidly, + This moment, like some ancient man of stone, + I'm sorry for him and I pity him. + + [_He gives his sword to the officer and goes out._] + +ELECTOR. Bring him to camp at Fehrbellin, and there + Assemble the court-martial for his trial. + +[_He enters the church. The flags follow him, and, while he and his +retinue kneel in prayer at_ FROBEN's _coffin, are fastened to the +pilasters. Funeral music._] + + + + +ACT III + +_Scene: Fehrbellin. A prison._ + +SCENE I + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. _Two troopers as guards in the rear._ COUNT + HOHENZOLLERN _enters._ + +THE PRINCE. Faith, now, friend Harry! Welcome, man, you are! + Well, then, I'm free of my imprisonment? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_amazed_). + Lord in the heavens be praised! + +THE PRINCE. What was that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Free? + So then he's sent you back your sword again? + +THE PRINCE. Me? No. + +HOHENZOLLERN. No? + +THE PRINCE. No. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Then how can you be free? + +THE PRINCE (after a pause). + I thought that _you_ were bringing it.--What of it? + +HOHENZOLL. I know of nothing. + +THE PRINCE. Well, you heard: What of it? + He'll send some other one to let me know. + + [_He turns and brings chairs._] + + Sit down. Now come and tell me all the news. + Has he returned, the Elector, from Berlin? + +HOHENZOLL. Yes. Yester eve. + +THE PRINCE. And did they celebrate + The victory as planned?--Assuredly! + And he was at the church himself, the Elector? + +HOHENZOLL. With the Electress and with Natalie. + The church was wonderfully bright with lights; + Upon the palace-square artillery + Through the _Te Deum_ spoke with solemn splendor. + The Swedish flags and standards over us + Swung from the church's columns, trophy-wise, + And, on the sovereign's express command, + Your name was spoken from the chancel high, + Your name was spoken, as the victor's name. + +THE PRINCE. I heard that.--Well, what other news? What's yours? + Your face, my friend, is scarcely frolicsome. + +HOHENZOLL. Have you seen anybody? + +THE PRINCE. Golz, just now, + I' the Castle where, you know, I had my trial. + + [_Pause._] + +HOHENZOLLERN (_regarding him doubtfully_). + What do you think of your position, Arthur, + Since it has suffered such a curious change? + +THE PRINCE. What you and Golz and even the judges think-- + The Elector has fulfilled what duty asked, + And now he'll do as well the heart's behest. + Thus he'll address me, gravely: You have erred + (Put in a word perhaps of "death" and "fortress"), + But I grant you your liberty again-- + And round the sword that won his victory + Perhaps there'll even twine some mark of grace; + If not that, good; I did not merit that. + +HOHENZOLL. Oh, Arthur! [_He pauses._] + +THE PRINCE. Well? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Are you so very sure? + +THE PRINCE. So I have laid it out. I know he loves me, + He loves me like a son; since early childhood + A thousand signs have amply proven that. + What doubt is in your heart that stirs you so? + Has he not ever seemed to take more joy + Than I myself to see my young fame grow? + All that I am, am I not all through him? + And he should now unkindly tread in dust + The plant himself has nurtured, just because + Too swiftly opulent it flowered forth? + I'll not believe his worst foe could think that-- + And far less you who know and cherish him. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_significantly_). + Arthur, you've stood your trial in court-martial, + And you believe that still? + +THE PRINCE. _Because_ of it! + No one, by heaven alive, would go so far + Who did not have a pardon up his sleeve! + Even there, before the judgment bar, it was-- + Even there it was, my confidence returned. + Come, was it such a capital offense + Two little seconds ere the order said + To have laid low the stoutness of the Swede? + What other felony is on my conscience? + And could he summon me, unfeelingly, + Before this board of owl-like judges, chanting + Their litanies of bullets and the grave, + Did he not purpose with a sovereign word + To step into their circle like a god? + No, he is gathering this night of cloud + About my head, my friend, that he may dawn + Athwart the gloomy twilight like the sun! + And, faith, this pleasure I begrudge him not! + +HOHENZOLL. And yet, they say, the court has spoken judgment. + +THE PRINCE. I heard so: death. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_amazed_). You know it then--so soon? + +THE PRINCE. Golz, who was present when they brought the verdict + Gave me report of how the judgment fell. + +HOHENZOLL. My God, man! And it stirred you not at all? + +THE PRINCE. Me? Why, not in the least! + +HOHENZOLLERN. You maniac! + On what then do you prop your confidence? + +THE PRINCE. On what I feel of him! [_He rises._] No more, I beg. + Why should I fret with insubstantial doubts? + + [_He bethinks himself and sits down again. Pause._] + + The court was forced to make its verdict death; + For thus the statute reads by which they judge. + But ere he let that sentence be fulfilled-- + Ere, at a kerchief's fall, he yields this heart + That loves him truly, to the muskets' fire, + Ere that, I say, he'll lay his own breast bare + And spill his own blood, drop by drop, in dust. + +HOHENZOLL. But, Arthur, I assure you-- + +THE PRINCE (_petulantly_). Oh, my dear! + +HOHENZOLL. The Marshal-- + +THE PRINCE (_still petulantly_). Come, enough! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Hear two words more! + If those make no impression, I'll be mute. + +THE PRINCE (_turning to him again_). + I told you, I know all. Well, now, what is it? + +HOHENZOLL. Most strange it is, a moment since, the Marshal + Delivered him the warrant for your death. + It leaves him liberty to pardon you, + But he, instead, has given the command + That it be brought him for his signature. + +THE PRINCE. No matter, I repeat! + +HOHENZOLLERN. No matter? + +THE PRINCE. For-- + His signature? + +HOHENZOLLERN. By faith, I do assure you! + +THE PRINCE. The warrant?--No! The verdict-- + +HOHENZOLLERN. The death warrant. + +THE PRINCE. Who was it told you that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Marshal. + +THE PRINCE. When? + +HOHENZOLL. Just now. + +THE PRINCE. Returning from the sovereign? + +HOHENZOLL. The stairs descending from the sovereign. + And added, when he saw my startled face, + That nothing yet was lost, and that the dawn + Would bring another day for pardoning. + But the dead pallor of his lips disproved + Their spoken utterance, with, I fear it--no! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + He could--I'll not believe it!--bring to birth + Such monstrous resolutions in his heart? + For a defect, scarce visible to the lens, + In the bright diamond he but just received, + Tread in the dust the giver? 'Twere a deed + To burn the Dey of Algiers white: with wings + Like those that silver-gleam on cherubim + To dizen Sardanapalus, and cast + The assembled tyrannies of ancient Rome, + Guiltless as babes that die on mother-breast, + Over upon the favor-hand of God! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_who has likewise risen_). + My friend, you must convince yourself of that! + +THE PRINCE. The Marshal then was silent, said nought else? + +HOHENZOLL. What should he say? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, heaven, my hope, my hope! + +HOHENZOLL. Come, have you ever done a thing, perchance, + Be it unconsciously or consciously, + That might have given his lofty heart offense? + +THE PRINCE. Never! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Consider! + +THE PRINCE. Never, by high heaven! + The very shadow of his head was sacred. + +HOHENZOLL. Do not be angry, Arthur, if I doubt. + Count Horn has come, the Ambassador of Sweden, + And I am told with all authority + His business concerns the Princess Orange. + A word her aunt, the Electress, spoke, they say, + Has cut the sovereign to the very quick; + They say, the lady has already chosen. + Are you in no way tangled up in this? + +THE PRINCE. Dear God, what are you saying? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Are you? Are you? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend, I am! And now all things are clear! + It is that wooing that destroys me quite. + I am accountable if she refuse, + Because the Princess is betrothed to me. + +HOHENZOLL. You feather-headed fool, what have you done? + How often have I warned you, loyally! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend! Then help me! Save me! I am lost! + +HOHENZOLL. Ay, what expedient saves us in this gloom? + Come, would you like to see her aunt, the Electress? + +THE PRINCE (_turning_). + Ho, watch! + +TROOPER (_in the background_). Here! + +THE PRINCE. Go, and call your officer! + +[_He hastily takes a cloak from the wall and puts on a plumed hat +lying on the table._] + +HOHENZOLLERN (_as he assists him_) + Adroitly used, this step may spell salvation. + For if the Elector can but make the peace, + By the determined forfeit, with King Charles, + His heart, you soon shall see, will turn to you, + And in brief time you will be free once more. + + + +SCENE II + + _The officer enters. The others as before._ + +THE PRINCE (_to the officer_). + Stranz, they have put me in your custody; + Grant me my freedom for an hour's time. + I have some urgent business on my mind. + +OFFICER. Not in my custody are you, my lord. + The order given me declares that I + Shall leave you free to go where you desire. + +THE PRINCE. Most odd! Then I am not a prisoner? + +OFFICER. Your word of honor is a fetter, too. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_preparing to go_). + 'Twill do! No matter. + +THE PRINCE. So. Then fare you well. + +HOHENZOLL. The fetter follows hard upon the Prince. + +THE PRINCE. I go but to the Castle, to my aunt, + And in two minutes I am back again. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE III + +_Room of the_ ELECTRESS. _The_ ELECTRESS _and_ NATALIE _enter_. + +ELECTRESS. Come, daughter mine, come now! This is your hour. + Count Gustaf Horn, the Swedes' ambassador, + And all the company have left the Castle; + There is a light in Uncle's study still. + Come, put your kerchief on and steal on him, + And see if you can rescue yet your friend. + + [_They are about to go._] + + + +SCENE IV + +_A lady-in-waiting enters. Others as before._ + +LADY-IN-WAITING. + Madam, the Prince of Homburg's at the door. + But I am hardly sure that I saw right. + +ELECTRESS. Dear God! + +NATALIE. Himself? + +ELECTRESS. Is he not prisoner? + +LADY-IN-WAITING. + He stands without, in plumed hat and cloak, + And begs in urgent terror to be heard. + +ELECTRESS (_distressed_). + Impulsive boy! To go and break his word! + +NATALIE. Who knows what may torment him? + +ELECTRESS (_after a moment in thought_). Let him come! + + [_She seats herself._] + + + +SCENE V + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _enters. The others as before._ + +THE PRINCE (_throwing himself at the feet of the_ ELECTRESS). + Oh, mother! + +ELECTRESS. Prince! What are you doing here? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, let me clasp your knees, oh, mother mine! + +ELECTRESS (_with suppressed emotion_). + You are a prisoner, Prince, and you come hither? + Why will you heap new guilt upon the old? + +THE PRINCE (_urgently_). + Oh, do you know what they have done? + +ELECTRESS. Yes, all. + But what can I do, helpless I, for you? + +THE PRINCE. You would not speak thus, mother mine, if death + Had ever terribly encompassed you + As it doth me. With potencies of heaven, + You and my lady, these who serve you, all + The world that rings me round, seem blest to save. + The very stable-boy, the meanest, least, + That tends your horses, pleading I could hang + About his neck, crying: Oh, save me, thou! + I, only I, alone on God's wide earth + Am helpless, desolate, and impotent. + +ELECTRESS. You are beside yourself! What has occurred? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, on the way that led me to your side, + I saw in torchlight where they dug the grave + That on the morrow shall receive my bones! + Look, Aunt, these eyes that gaze upon you now, + These eyes they would eclipse with night, this breast + Pierce and transpierce with murderous musketry. + The windows on the Market that shall close + Upon the weary show are all reserved; + And one who, standing on life's pinnacle, + Today beholds the future like a realm + Of faery spread afar, tomorrow lies + Stinking within the compass of two boards, + And over him a stone recounts: _He was_. + +[_The_ PRINCESS, _who until now has stood in the background supporting +herself on the shoulder of one of the ladies-in-waiting, sinks into a +chair, deeply moved at his words, and begins to weep._] + +ELECTRESS. My son, if such should be the will of heaven, + You will go forth with courage and calm soul. + +THE PRINCE. God's world, O mother, is so beautiful! + Oh, let me not, before my hour strike, + Descend, I plead, to those black shadow-forms! + Why, why can it be nothing but the bullet? + Let him depose me from my offices, + With rank cashierment, if the law demands, + Dismiss me from the army. God of heaven! + Since I beheld my grave, life, life, I want, + And do not ask if it be kept with honor. + +ELECTRESS. Arise, my son, arise! What were those words? + You are too deeply moved. Control yourself! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Aunt, not ere you promise on your soul, + With a prostration that shall save my life + Pleading to go before the sovereign presence. + Hedwig, your childhood friend, gave me to you, + Dying at Homburg, saying as she died: + Be you his mother when I am no more. + Moved to the depths, kneeling beside her bed, + Over her spent hand bending, you replied: + Yea, he shall be to me as mine own child. + Now, I remind you of the vow you made! + Go to him, go, as though I were your child, + Crying, I plead for mercy! Set him free! + Oh, and return to me, and say: 'Tis so! + +ELECTRESS (_weeping_). + Belovèd son! All has been done, erewhile. + But all my supplications were in vain. + +THE PRINCE. I give up every claim to happiness. + And tell him this, forget it not, that I + Desire Natalie no more, for her + All tenderness within my heart is quenched. + Free as the doe upon the meads is she, + Her hand and lips, as though I'd never been, + Freely let her bestow, and if it be + The Swede Karl Gustaf, I commend her choice. + I will go seek my lands upon the Rhine. + There will I build and raze again to earth + With sweating brow, and sow and gather in, + As though for wife and babe, enjoy alone; + And when the harvest's gathered, sow again, + And round and round the treadmill chase my days + Until at evening they sink down, and die. + +ELECTRESS. Enough! Now take your way home to your prison-- + That is the first demand my favor makes. + +THE PRINCE (_rises and turns toward the_ PRINCESS). + Poor little girl, you weep! The sun today + Lights all your expectations to their grave! + Your heart decided from the first on me; + Indeed, your look declares, that, true as gold, + You ne'er shall dedicate your heart anew. + Oh, what can I, poor devil, say to comfort? + Go to the Maiden's Chapter on the Main, + I counsel you, go to your cousin Thurn. + Seek in the hills a boy, light-curled as I, + Buy him with gold and silver, to your breast + Press him, and teach his lips to falter: Mother. + And when he grows to manhood, show him well + How men draw shut the eyelids of the dead. + That is the only joy that lies your way! + +NATALIE (_bravely and impressively, as she rises and lays + her hand in his_). + Return, young hero, to your prison walls, + And, on your passage, imperturbably + Regard once more the grave they dug for you. + It is not gloomier, nor more wide at all + Than those the battle showed a thousand times. + Meanwhile, since I am true to you till death, + A saving word I'll chance, unto my kin. + It may avail, perhaps, to move his heart + And disenthrall you from all misery. + + [_Pause._] + +THE PRINCE (_folding his hands, as he stands lost in contemplation + of her_). + An you had pinions on your shoulders, maid, + Truly I should be sure you were an angel! + Dear God, did I hear right? You speak for me? + Where has the quiver of your speech till now + Lain hid, dear child, that you should dare approach + The sovereign in matters such as this? + Oh, light of hope, reviving me once more! + +NATALIE. The darts that find the marrow God will hand me! + But if the Elector cannot move the law's + Outspoken word, cannot--so be it! Then + Bravely to him the brave man will submit. + And he, the conqueror a thousand times, + Living, will know to conquer too in death! + +ELECTRESS. Make haste! The favorable hour flies by! + +THE PRINCE. Now may all holy spirits guard your way! + Farewell, farewell! Whate'er the outcome be, + Grant me a word to tell me how you fared. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +ACT IV + +_Scene: Room of the_ ELECTOR. + +SCENE I + +_The_ ELECTOR _is standing with documents in his hand near a table set +with lights_. NATALIE _enters through the centre door and, still some +distance away, falls on her knees to him_. + +NATALIE. My noble uncle Frederick of the Mark! + +ELECTOR (_laying the papers aside_). + My Natalie! + + [_He seeks to raise her._] + +NATALIE. No, no! + +ELECTOR. What is your wish? + +NATALIE. As it behooves me, at your feet in dust + To plead your pardon for my cousin Homburg. + Not for myself I wish to know him safe-- + My heart desires him and confesses it-- + Not for myself I wish to know him safe; + Let him go wed whatever wife he will. + I only ask, dear uncle, that he live, + Free, independent, unallied, unbound, + Even as a flower in which I find delight; + For this I plead, my sovereign lord and friend, + And such entreaty you will heed, I know. + +ELECTOR (_raising her to her feet_). + My little girl! What words escaped your lips? + Are you aware of how your cousin Homburg + Lately offended? + +NATALIE. But, dear uncle! + +ELECTOR. Well? + Was it so slight? + +NATALIE. Oh, this blond fault, blue-eyed, + Which even ere it faltered: Lo, I pray! + Forgiveness should raise up from the earth-- + Surely you will not spurn it with your foot? + Why, for its mother's sake, for her who bore it, + You'll press it to your breast and cry: "Weep not! + For you are dear as loyalty herself." + Was it not ardor for your name's renown + That lured him in the fight's tumultuous midst + To burst apart the confines of the law? + And oh, once he had burst the bonds asunder, + Trod he not bravely on the serpent's head? + To crown him first because he triumphs, then + Put him to death--that, surely, history + Will not demand of you. Dear uncle mine, + That were so stoical and so sublime + That men might almost deem it was inhuman! + And God made nothing more humane than you. + +ELECTOR. Sweet child, consider! If I were a tyrant, + I am indeed aware your words ere now + Had thawed the heart beneath the iron breast. + But this I put to you: Have I the right + To quash the verdict which the court has passed? + What would the issue be of such an act? + +NATALIE. For whom? For you? + +ELECTOR. For me? No! Bah! For me! + My girl, know you no higher law than me! + Have you no inkling of a sanctuary + That in the camp men call the fatherland? + +NATALIE. My liege! Why fret your soul? Because of such + Upstirring of your grace, this fatherland + Will not this moment crash to rack and ruin! + The camp has been your school. And, look, what there + You term unlawfulness, this act, this free + Suppression of the verdict of the court, + Appears to me the very soul of law. + The laws of war, I am aware, must rule; + The heart, however, has its charter, too. + The fatherland your hands upbuilt for us, + My noble uncle, is a fortress strong, + And other greater storms indeed will bear + Than this unnecessary victory. + Majestically through the years to be + It shall uprise, beneath your line expand, + Grow beautiful with towers, luxuriant, + A fairy country, the felicity + Of those who love it, and the dread of foes. + It does not need the cold cementing seal + Of a friend's life-blood to outlast the calm + And glorious autumn of my uncle's days! + +ELECTOR. And cousin Homburg thinks this? + +NATALIE. Cousin Homburg? + +ELECTOR. Does he believe it matters not at all + If license rule the fatherland, or law? + +NATALIE. This poor dear boy! + +ELECTOR. Well, now? + +NATALIE. Oh, uncle dear, + To that I have no answer save my tears! + +ELECTOR (_in surprise_). + Why that, my little girl? What has befallen? + +NATALIE (_falteringly_). + He thinks of nothing now but one thing: rescue! + The barrels at the marksmen's shoulders peer + So ghastly, that, giddy and amazed, + Desire is mute, save one desire: To live. + The whole great nation of the Mark might sink + To wrack mid flare and thunderbolt; and he + Stand by nor even ask: What comes to pass?-- + Oh, what a hero's heart have you brought low? + + [_She turns away, sobbing._] + +ELECTOR (_utterly amazed_). + No, dearest Natalie! No, no, indeed! + Impossible!--He pleads for clemency? + +NATALIE. If you had only, only not condemned him! + +ELECTOR. Come, tell me, come! He pleads for clemency? + What has befallen, child? Why do you sob? + You met? Come, tell me all. You spoke with him? + +NATALIE (_pressed against his breast_). + In my aunt's chambers but a moment since, + Whither in mantle, lo, and plumèd hat + Stealthily through the screening dusk he came-- + Furtive, perturbed, abashed, unworthy all, + A miserable, pitiable sight. + I never guessed a man could sink so low + Whom history applauded as her hero. + For look--I am a woman and I shrink + From the mere worm that draws too near my foot; + But so undone, so void of all control, + So unheroic quite, though lion-like + Death fiercely came, he should not find me thus! + Oh, what is human greatness, human fame! + +ELECTOR (_confused_). + Well, then, by God of heaven and of earth! + Take courage, then, my girl, for he is free! + +NATALIE. What, my liege lord? + +ELECTOR. I pardon him, I say! + I'll send the necessary word at once. + +NATALIE. Oh, dearest, is it really true? + +ELECTOR. You heard. + +NATALIE. You will forgive him? And he need not die? + +ELECTOR. Upon my word! I swear it! How shall I + Oppose myself to such a warrior's judgment? + Within my heart of hearts, as you know well, + I deeply do esteem his inner sense; + If he can say the verdict is unjust, + I cancel the indictment; he is free! + + [_He brings her a chair._] + + Will you sit here and wait a little while? + +[_He goes to the table, seats himself and writes. Pause._] + +NATALIE (_softly_). + Why dost thou knock so at thy house, my heart? + +ELECTOR (_writing_). + The Prince is over in the Castle? + +NATALIE. Pardon! + He has returned to his captivity. + +ELECTOR (_finishes his letter and seals it; thereupon he returns + with the letter to the_ PRINCESS). + Well, well, my little niece, my daughter, wept! + And I, whose place it is to make her glad + Was forced to cloud the heaven of her fair eyes! + + [_He puts his arm about her_.] + + Will you go bring the note to him yourself? + +NATALIE. How? To the City Hall? + +ELECTOR (_presses the letter into her hand_). + Why not? Ho, lackeys! + + [_Enter lackeys_.] + + Go, have the carriage up! Her ladyship + Has urgent business with Colonel Homburg. + + [_The lackeys go out_.] + + Now he can thank you for his life forthwith. + + [_He embraces her_.] + + Dear child, and do you like me now once more? + +NATALIE (_after a pause_). + I do not know and do not seek to know + What woke your favor, liege, so suddenly. + But truly this, I feel this in my heart, + You would not make ignoble sport of me. + The letter hold whate'er it may--I trust + That it hold pardon--and I thank you for it. + + [_She kisses his hand_.] + +ELECTOR. Indeed, my little girl, indeed. As sure + As pardon lies in Cousin Homburg's wish. + + + +SCENE II + +_Room of the_ PRINCESS. _Enter_ PRINCESS NATALIE, _followed by two +ladies-in-waiting and Captain of Cavalry_, COUNT REUSS. + +NATALIE (_precipitantly_). + What is it, Count? About my regiment? + Is it of moment? Can it wait a day? + +REUSS (_handing her a letter_). + Madam, a note for you from Colonel Kottwitz. + +NATALIE (_opening it_). + Quick, give it me! What's in it? + +REUSS. A petition, + Frankly addressed, though deferentially, + As you will note, to our liege lord, his Highness, + In furtherance of our chief, the Prince of Homburg. + +NATALIE (_reading_). + "Petition, loyally presented by + The regiment of Princess Orange"--so. + + [_Pause._] + + This document--whose hand composed it, pray? + +REUSS. As the formations of the dizzy script + May let you guess, by none but Colonel Kottwitz. + His noble name stands foremost on the list. + +NATALIE. The thirty signatures which follow it? + +REUSS. The names of officers, most noble lady, + Each following each according to his rank. + +NATALIE. And they sent me the supplication--me? + +REUSS. My lady, most submissively to beg + If you, our colonel, likewise, at their head + Will fill the space left vacant, with your name? + + [_Pause._] + +NATALIE. Indeed, I hear, the Prince, my noble kinsman, + By our lord's own volition shall be freed, + Wherefore there scarce is need for such a step. + +REUSS (_delighted_). + What? Truly? + +NATALIE. Yet I'll not deny my hand + Upon a document, which, wisely used, + May prove a weight upon the scales to turn + Our sovereign's decision--even prove + Welcome, mayhap, to introduce the issue. + According to your wish, therefore, I set + Myself here at your head and write my name. + + [_She goes to a desk and is about to write._] + +REUSS. Indeed, you have our lively gratitude! + + [_Pause._] + +NATALIE (_turning to him again_). + My regiment alone I find, Count Reuss! + Why do I miss the Bomsdorf Cuirassiers + And the dragoons of Götz and Anhalt-Pless? + +REUSS. Not, as perchance you fear, because their hearts + Are cooler in their throbbing than our own. + It proves unfortunate for our petition + That Kottwitz is in garrison apart + At Arnstein, while the other regiments + Are quartered in the city here. Wherefore + The document lacks freedom easily + In all directions to expand its force. + +NATALIE. Yet, as it stands, the plea seems all too thin.-- + Are you sure, Count, if you were on the spot + To interview the gentlemen now here, + That they as well would sign the document? + +REUSS. Here in the city, madam? Head for head! + The entire cavalry would pledge itself + With signatures. By God, I do believe + That a petition might be safely launched + Amid the entire army of the Mark! + +NATALIE (_after a pause_). + Why does not some one send out officers + To carry on the matter in the camp? + +REUSS. Pardon! The Colonel put his foot on that. + He said that he desired to do no act + That men might christen with an ugly name. + +NATALIE. Queer gentleman! Now bold, now timorous! + But it occurs to me that happily + The Elector, pressed by other business, + Charged me to issue word that Kottwitz, cribbed + Too close in his position, march back hither. + I will sit down at once and do it! + + [_She sits down and writes._] + +REUSS. By Heaven, + Most excellent, my lady! An event + That could not timelier prove for our petition! + +NATALIE (_as she writes_). + Use it, Count Reuss, as well as you know how. + +[_She finishes her note, seals it and rises to her feet again._] + + Meanwhile this note, you understand, remains + In your portfolio; you will not go + To Arnstein with it, nor convey 't to Kottwitz + Until I give more definite command. + + [_She gives him the letter._] + +A LACKEY (_entering_). + According to the sovereign's order, madam, + The coach is ready in the yard, and waiting. + +NATALIE. Go, call it to the door. I'll come at once. + +[_Pause, during which she steps thoughtfully to the table and draws on +her gloves._] + + Count, I desire to interview Prince Homburg. + Will you escort me thither? In my coach + There is a place I put at your disposal. + +REUSS. Madam, a great distinction, I assure you-- + + [_He offers her his arm._] + +NATALIE (_to the ladies-in-waiting_). + Follow, my friends!--It well may be that there + I shall decide about the note erelong. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE III + +_The_ PRINCE'S _cell. The_ PRINCE Of HOMBURG _hangs his hat on the wall + and sinks, carelessly reclining, on a mattress spread out on the floor._ + +THE PRINCE. The dervish calls all life a pilgrimage, + And that, a brief one. True!--Of two short spans + This side of earth to two short spans below. + I will recline upon the middle path. + The man who bears his head erect today + No later than tomorrow on his breast + Bows it, all tremulous. Another dawn, + And, lo, it lies a skull beside his heel! + Indeed, there is a sun, they say, that shines + On fields beyond e'en brighter than these fields. + I do believe it; only pity 'tis + The eye, that shall perceive the splendor, rots. + + + +SCENE IV + +_Enter_ PRINCESS NATALIE _on the arm of_ COUNT REUSS, _and followed by + ladies-in-waiting. A footman with a torch precedes them. The_ PRINCE + OF HOMBURG. + +FOOTMAN. Her Highness Princess Natalie of Orange! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + Natalie! + +FOOTMAN. Here she comes herself! + +NATALIE (_with a bow to the COUNT_). I beg + Leave us a little moment to ourselves. + + [COUNT REUSS _and the footman go._] + +THE PRINCE. Beloved lady! + +NATALIE. Dear good cousin mine! + +THE PRINCE (_leading her up stage_). + What is your news? Speak! How stand things with me? + +NATALIE. Well. All is well, just as I prophesied. + Pardoned are you, and free; here is a letter + Writ by his hand to verify my words. + +THE PRINCE. It cannot be! No, no! It is a dream! + +NATALIE. Read! Read the letter! See it for yourself! + +THE PRINCE (_reading_). + "My Prince of Homburg, when I made you prisoner + Because of your too premature attack, + I thought that I was doing what was right-- + No more; and reckoned on your acquiescence. + If you believe that I have been unjust, + Tell me, I beg you in a word or two, + And forthwith I will send you back your sword." + +[NATALIE _turns pale. Pause. The_ PRINCE _regards her questioningly._] + +NATALIE (_feigning sudden joy_). + Well, there it stands! It only needs two words, + My dear, sweet friend! + + [_She presses his hand._] + +THE PRINCE. Ah, precious lady mine! + +NATALIE. Oh, blessed hour that dawns across my world! + Here, take it, take the pen, take it and write. + +THE PRINCE. And here the signature? + +NATALIE. The F--his mark! + Oh, Bork! Be glad with me. His clemency + Is limitless, I knew it, as the sea! + Do bring a chair, for he must write at once. + +THE PRINCE. He says, if I believed-- + + NATALIE (_interrupting_). Why, yes, of course! + Quick now! Sit down. I'll tell you what to say. + + [_She sets a chair in place for him._] + +THE PRINCE. I wish to read the letter once again. + +NATALIE (_tearing the letter from his hand_). + Why so? Did you not see the pit already + Yawning beneath you in the graveyard yonder? + The time is urgent. Come, sit down and write. + +THE PRINCE (_smiling_). + Truly, you act as though it had the power + To plump down, panther-fashion, on my back. + + [_He sits down and seizes a pen._] + +NATALIE (_turning away with a sob_). + Write, if you do not want to make me cross. + + [_The_ PRINCE _rings for a lackey, who enters._] + +THE PRINCE. Bring pen and paper, seal and sealing-wax. + +[_The lackey, having collected these and given them to the_ PRINCE, +_goes out. The_ PRINCE _writes. Pause, during which he tears the +letter he has begun in two and throws the pieces under the table_.] + + A silly opening! + + [_He takes another sheet_.] + +NATALIE (_picking up the letter_). What did you say? + Good heavens! Why, it's right, it's excellent. + +THE PRINCE (_under his breath_). + Bah! That's a blackguard's wording, not a Prince's. + I'll try to put it in some other way. + +[_Pause. He clutches at the_ ELECTOR'S _letter which the_ PRINCESS +_holds in her hand._] + + What is it, anyway, his letter says? + +NATALIE (_keeping it from him_). + Nothing at all! + +THE PRINCE. Give it to me! + +NATALIE. You read it! + +THE PRINCE (_snatches it from her_). + What if I did? I only want to see + How I'm to phrase my answer. + +NATALIE (_to herself_). God of earth! + Now all is done with him! + +THE PRINCE (_surprised_). Why, look at this! + As I'm alive, most curious! You must + Have overlooked the passage. + +NATALIE. Why! Which one? + +THE PRINCE. He calls on me to judge the case myself! + +NATALIE. Well, what of that? + +THE PRINCE. Gallant, i' faith, and fine! + Exactly what a noble soul would say! + +NATALIE. His magnanimity is limitless! + But you, too, friend, do _your_ part now, and write, + As he desires. All that is needed now + Is but the pretext, but the outer form. + As soon as those two words are in his hands, + Presto, the quarrel's at an end. + +THE PRINCE (_putting the letter away_). No, dear! + I want to think it over till tomorrow. + +NATALIE. Incomprehensible! Oh, what a change! + But why, but why? + +THE PRINCE (_rising in passionate excitement_). + I beg you, ask me not! + You did not ponder what the letter said. + That he did me a wrong--and that's the crux-- + I cannot tell him that. And if you force me + To give him answer in my present mood, + By God, it's this I'll tell him--"You did right!" + +[_He sinks down beside the table, again with folded arms, and stares +at the letter._] + +NATALIE (_pale_). + You imbecile, you! What a thing to say! + + [_She bends over him, deeply stirred_.] + +THE PRINCE (_pressing her hand_). + Come, just a second now! I think-- + + [_He ponders_.] + +NATALIE. What is it? + +THE PRINCE. I'll know soon now what I shall write to him. + +NATALIE (_painfully_). + Homburg! + +THE PRINCE (_taking up his pen_) + Yes, dear. What is it? + +NATALIE. Sweetest friend! + I prize the impulse that upstirred your heart; + But this I swear to you: the regiment + Has been detailed, whose muskets are to sound + At dawn the reconciling burial rite + Above the grave where your dead body lies. + If you cannot resist the law's decree, + Nor, noble as you are, do what he asks + Here in this letter to repeal it, then + I do assure you he will loftily + Accept the situation, and fulfil + The sentence on the morrow ruthlessly. + +THE PRINCE (_writing_). + No matter! + +NATALIE. What? No matter? + +THE PRINCE. Let him do + What his soul bids. I must do what I must. + +NATALIE (_approaching him frightened_). + Oh, terrible! You are not writing there? + +THE PRINCE (_concluding_). + "Homburg!" And dated, "Fehrbellin, the twelfth." + So, it's all ready. Frank! + + [_He closes and seals the letter_.] + +NATALIE. Dear God in heaven! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + Here, take this to the Castle to my liege! + + [_The lackey goes out_.] + + I will not face man who faces me + So nobly, with a knave's ignoble front! + Guilt, heavy guilt, upon my conscience weighs, + I fully do confess. Can he but grant + Forgiveness, when I contest for it, + I do not care a straw for any pardon. + +NATALIE (_kissing him_). + This kiss, for me! And though twelve bullets made + You dust this instant, I could not resist + Caroling, sobbing, crying: Thus you please me! + However, since you follow your heart's lead, + I may be pardoned if I follow mine. + Count Reuss! + + [_The footman opens the door. The_ COUNT _enters_.] + +REUSS. Here! + +NATALIE. Go, and bear the note I gave + Post-haste to Arnstein and to Colonel Kottwitz! + The regiment shall march, our liege directs. + Ere midnight I shall look to see it here! + + [_Exeunt omnes_.] + + + +ACT V + +_Scene: a hall in the Castle._ + +SCENE I + +_The_ ELECTOR, _scantily clad, enters from the adjoining chamber, +followed by_ COUNT TRUCHSZ, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, _and_ CAPTAIN VON DER +GOLZ. _Pages with lights_. + +ELECTOR. Kottwitz? And with the Princess's dragoons? + Here in the town? + +TRUCHSZ (_opening the window_). Indeed, my sovereign! + Drawn up before the Castle, here he is! + +ELECTOR. Well? Will you read the riddle, gentlemen? + Who called him hither? + +HOHENZOLLERN. I know not, my liege. + +ELECTOR. The place I set him at is known as Arnstein! + Make haste, some one, and go and bring him in. + +GOLZ. He will appear forthwith, my sovereign. + +ELECTOR. Where is he? + +GOLZ. At the City Hall, I hear, + Where the entire generality, + That bears obedience to your house, is met. + +ELECTOR. But why? What is the object? + +HOHENZOLLERN. I know not. + +TRUCHSZ. My prince and lord, will you vouchsafe that we + Likewise betake ourselves a moment thither? + +ELECTOR. Whither? The City Hall? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The lords' assemblage. + We gave our word of honor to appear. + +ELECTOR (_after a short pause_). + You are dismissed! + +GOLZ. Come, follow, gentlemen! + + [_The officers go out_.] + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ ELECTOR. _Later, two footmen._ + +ELECTOR. Most curious! Were I the Dey of Tunis + I'd sound alarm at such a dubious move, + Lay on my desk despair's thin silken cord, + And at my palisaded castle-gate + Set up my heavy guns and howitzers. + But since it's just Hans Kottwitz from the Priegnitz + Who marches on me of his own sweet will + I'll treat the matter in the Mark's own way; + Of the three curls that gleam so silvery + On his old skull, I'll take firm hold of one + And lead him calmly with his squadrons twelve + To Arnstein, his headquarters, back again. + Why wake the city from its slumber thus? + +[_He goes to the window a moment, then returns to the table and rings +a bell. Two lackeys enter_.] + + Do run below and ask, as for yourself, + What's doing in the City Hall. + +1st LACKEY. At once! + + [_He goes out._] + +ELECTOR (_to the other_). + But you go now and fetch me my apparel. + +[_The lackey goes and brings it. The_ ELECTOR _attires himself and +dons his princely insignia._] + + + +SCENE III + +FIELD-MARSHAL DÖRFLING _enters. The others as before._ + +DÖRFLING. Rebellion, my Elector! + +ELECTOR (_still occupied with his clothes_). Calm yourself! + You know that I detest to have my room + Without a warning word, invaded thus. + What do you want? + +MARSHAL. Forgive me! An affair + Of special consequence has brought me hither. + Unordered, Colonel Kottwitz moved his force + Into the city; hundred officers + Are gathered round him in the armor-hall. + From hand to hand a paper passes round + That purposes encroachment on your rights. + +ELECTOR. I am informed of it. What can it be + Except a ferment friendly to the Prince + On whom the law has laid the sentence, death? + +MARSHAL. 'Tis so, by God on high! You struck it right! + +ELECTOR. Well, then, and good. My heart is in their midst. + +MARSHAL. The rumor goes the maniacs intend + This very night to hand you their petition + Here in the Castle; and should you persist + In carrying out, irreconcilably, + The sentence--scarce I dare to bring you this!-- + To liberate him from his bonds by force! + +ELECTOR (_sombrely_). + Come now, who told you that? + +MARSHAL. Who told me that? + The lady Retzow, cousin of my wife, + Whom you may trust. She spent this evening + In Bailiff Retzow's, in her uncle's house, + And heard some officers who came from camp + Brazenly utter this audacious plan. + +ELECTOR. A man must tell me that ere I'll believe it. + I'll set this boot of mine before his house + To keep him safe from these young heroes' + hands! + +MARSHAL. My lord, I beg you, if it be your will, + To grant the Prince his pardon after all: + Fulfil it ere an odious deed be done. + You know that every army loves its hero. + Let not this spark which kindles in it now + Spread out and wax a wild consuming fire. + Nor Kottwitz nor the crowd he has convened + Are yet aware my faithful word has warned you. + Ere he appears, send back the Prince's sword, + Send it, as, after all, he has deserved. + One piece of chivalry the more you give + To history, and one misdeed the less. + +ELECTOR. Concerning that I'd have to ask the Prince, + Who was not idly made a prisoner, + As you may know, nor idly may be freed.-- + I'll see the gentlemen when they arrive. + +MARSHAL (_to himself_). + Curse it! His armor's proof to every dart. + + + +SCENE IV + +_Two lackeys enter, one with a letter in his hand. The others as before_. + +1st LACKEY. Sir, Colonels Kottwitz, Hennings, Truchsz and others + Beg audience! + +ELECTOR (_to the second lackey, as he takes the letter_). + This from the Prince of Homburg? + +2D LACKEY. Indeed, your Highness. + +ELECTOR. Who delivered it? + +2D LACKEY. The Swiss on guard before the castle gate, + Who had it from the Prince's bodyguard. + +[_The_ ELECTOR _stands by the table, and reads; whereupon he turns and +calls to a page_.] + + Prittwitz! Bring me the warrant, bring it here. + And let me have the passport for the Swede's + Ambassador, Gustaf, the Count of Horn. + + [_Exit the page_.] + + [_To the first lackey_.] + Now Kottwitz and his retinue may come. + + + +SCENE V + +COLONEL KOTTWITZ _and_ COLONEL HENNINGS, COUNT TRUCHSZ, COUNTS +HOHENZOLLERN _and_ SPARREN, COUNT REUSS, CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ, STRANZ +_and other officers enter. The others as before_. + +KOTTWITZ (_bearing the petition_). + Permit me, my exalted sovereign, + Here in the name of all your soldiery + Most humbly to submit this document. + +ELECTOR. Kottwitz, before I take it, tell me now + Who was it called you to this city here? + +KOTTWITZ (_regarding him_). + With the dragoons? + +ELECTOR. Ay, with your regiment! + I nominated Arnstein as your station. + +KOTTWITZ. Sir! It was your behest that brought me + hither. + +ELECTOR. Eh? Let me see the order! + +KOTTWITZ. Here, my liege. + +ELECTOR (_reading_). + Signed: "Natalie." And dated: "Fehrbellin, + By order of my liege, my uncle Frederick." + +KOTTWITZ. By God, my prince and lord, I will not hope + The order's news to you? + +ELECTOR. No--understand--Who + was it who conveyed the order thither? + +KOTTWITZ. Count Reuss! + +ELECTOR (_after a momentary pause_). + What's more, you're welcome, very welcome! + You have been chosen with your squadrons twelve + To pay Prince Homburg, sentenced by the law, + The final honors of the morrow. + +KOTTWITZ (_taken aback_). What, My sovereign? + +ELECTOR (_handing back the order_). + The regiment stands yet, + Benighted and befogged, outside the Castle? + +KOTTWITZ. Pardon, the night-- + +ELECTOR. Why don't they go to quarters? + +KOTTWITZ. My sovereign, they have gone. As you directed + They have found quarters in the city here. + +ELECTOR (_with a turn toward the window_). + What? But a moment since--Well, by the gods! + You've found them stables speedily enough. + So much the better! Welcome, then, once more! + Come, say, what brings you here? What is your news? + +KOTTWITZ. Sir, this petition from your loyal men. + +ELECTOR. Come. + +KOTTWITZ. But the words your lips have spoken strike + All my anticipations down to earth. + +ELECTOR. Well, then, a word can lift them up again! + [_He reads_.] + "Petition, begging royal clemency + For our commandant, vitally accused, + The General, Prince Frederick Hessen-Homburg." + + [_To the officers._] + + A noble name, my lords! And not unworthy + Your coming in such numbers to its aid. + + [_He looks into the document again._] + + By whom is the petition? + +KOTTWITZ. By myself. + +ELECTOR. The Prince has been apprized of what it holds? + +KOTTWITZ. Not in the very faintest. In our midst + The matter was conceived and given birth. + +ELECTOR. Grant me a moment's patience, if you please. + +[_He steps to the table and glances over the paper. Long pause._] + + Hm! Curious! You ancient war-horse, you, + You plead the Prince's cause? You justify + His charging Wrangel ere I gave command? + +KOTTWITZ. My sovereign, yes. That's what old Kottwitz does. + +ELECTOR. You did not hold that notion on the field! + +KOTTWITZ. I'd weighed the thing but ill, my sovereign. + I should have calmly yielded to the Prince + Who is most wonderfully versed in war. + The Swedes' left wing was wavering; on their right + Came reinforcements; had he been content + To bide your order, they'd have made a stand + With new intrenchments in the gullies there, + And never had you gained your victory. + +ELECTOR. That's what it pleases you to presuppose! + I sent out Colonel Hennings, as you know, + To pounce upon and seize the knot of bridges + Held by the Swedes to cover Wrangel's rear. + If you'd not disobeyed my order, look, + Hennings had carried out the stroke as planned-- + In two hours' time had set afire the bridges, + Planted his forces firmly on the Rhyn, + And Wrangel had been crushed with stump and stem + In ditches and morasses, utterly. + +KOTTWITZ. It is the tyro's business, not yours, + To hunger after fate's supremest crown. + Until this hour you took what gift she gave. + The dragon that made desolate the Mark + Beneath your very nose has been repelled + With gory head! What could one day bring more? + What matters it if, for a fortnight yet, + Spent in the sand, he lies and salves his wounds? + We've learnt the art of conquering him, and now + Are full of zeal to make the most of it. + Give us a chance at Wrangel, like strong men, + Breast against breast once more; we'll make an end + And, down into the Baltic, down he goes! + They did not build Rome in a single day. + +ELECTOR. What right have you, you fool, to hope for that, + When every mother's son is privileged + To jerk the battle-chariot's reins I hold? + Think you that fortune will eternally + Award a crown to disobedience? + I do not like a bastard victory, + The gutter-waif of chance; the law, look you, + My crown's progenitor, I will uphold, + For she shall bear a race of victories. + +KOTTWITZ. My liege, the law, the highest and the best, + That shall be honored in your leaders' hearts-- + Look, that is not the letter of your will! + It is the fatherland, it is the crown, + It is yourself, upon whose head it sits. + I beg you now, what matters it to you + What rule the foe fights by, as long as he + With all his pennons bites the dust once more? + The law that drubs him is the highest law! + Would you transform your fervid soldiery + Into a tool, as lifeless as the blade + That in your golden baldrick hangs inert? + Oh, empty spirit, stranger to the stars, + Who first gave forth such doctrine! Oh, the base, + The purblind statecraft, which because of one + Instance wherein the heart rode on to wrack, + Forgets ten others, in the whirl of life, + Wherein the heart alone has power to save! + Come, in the battle do I spill in dust + My blood for wages, money, say, or fame? + Faith, not a bit! It's all too good for that! + Why! I've my satisfaction and my joy, + Free and apart, in quiet solitude, + Seeing your splendor and your excellence, + The fame and crescence of your mighty name! + That is the wage for which I sold my heart! + Grant that, because of this unplanned success; + You broke the staff across the Prince's head, + And I somewhere twixt hill and dale at dawn + Should, shepherd-wise, steal on a victory + Unplanned as this, with my good squadrons, eh?-- + By God, I were a very knave, did I + Not merrily repeat the Prince's act! + And if you spake, the law book in your hand: + "Kottwitz, you've forfeited your head!" I'd say: + I knew it, Sir; there, take it, there it is; + When with an oath I bound me, hide and hair, + Unto your crown, I left not out my head, + And I should give you nought but what was yours! + +ELECTOR. You whimsical old gentleman, with you + I get nowhere! You bribe me with your tongue-- + Me, with your craftily framed sophistries-- + Me--and you know I hold you dear! Wherefore + I call an advocate to bear my side + And end our controversy. + + [_He rings a bell. A footman enters._] + + Go! I wish + The Prince of Homburg hither brought from prison. + + [_Exit footman._] + + He will instruct you, be assured of that, + What discipline and what obedience be! + He sent me words, at least, of other pitch + Than this astute idea of liberty + You have rehearsed here like a boy to me. + + [_He stands by the table again reading._] + +KOTTWITZ (_amazed_). + Fetch whom? Call whom? + +HENNINGS. Himself? + +TRUCHSZ. Impossible! + +[_The officers group themselves, disquieted, and speak with one +another._] + +ELECTOR. Who has brought forth this other document? + +HOHENZOLL. I, my liege lord! + +ELECTOR (_reading_). + "Proof that Elector Frederick + The Prince's act himself--"--Well, now, by heaven, + I call that nerve! + What! You dare say the cause of the misdeed + The Prince committed in the fight, am I! + +HOHENZOLL. Yourself, my liege; I say it, Hohenzollern. + +ELECTOR. Now then, by God, that beats the fairy-tales! + One man asserts that _he_ is innocent, + The other that the guilty man am _I_!-- + How will you demonstrate that thesis now? + +HOHENZOLL. My lord, you will recall to mind that night + We found the Prince in slumber deeply sunk + Down in the garden 'neath the plantain trees. + He dreamed, it seemed, of victories on the morrow, + And in his hand he held a laurel-twig, + As if to test his heart's sincerity. + You took the wreath away, and smilingly + Twined round the leaves the necklace that you wore, + And to the lady, to your noble niece, + Both wreath and necklace, intertwining, gave. + At such a wondrous sight, the Prince, aflush, + Leaps to his feet; such precious things held forth + By such a precious hand he needs must clasp. + But you withdraw from him in haste, withdrawing + The Princess as you pass; the door receives you. + Lady and chain and laurel disappear, + And, solitary, holding in his hand + A glove he ravished from he knows not whom-- + Lapped in the midnight he remains behind. + +ELECTOR. What glove was that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. My sovereign, hear me through! + The matter was a jest; and yet, of what + Deep consequence to him I learned erelong. + For when I slip the garden's postern through, + Coming upon him as it were by chance, + And wake him, and he calls his senses home, + The memory flooded him with keen delight. + A sight more touching scarce the mind could paint. + The whole occurrence, to the least detail, + He recapitulated, like a dream; + So vividly, he thought, he ne'er had dreamed, + And in his heart the firm assurance grew + That heaven had granted him a sign; that when + Once more came battle, God would grant him all + His inward eye had seen, the laurel-wreath, + The lady fair, and honor's linked badge. + +ELECTOR. Hm! Curious! And then the glove? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Indeed! + This fragment of his dream, made manifest, + At once dispels and makes more firm his faith. + At first, with large, round eye he looks at it: + The color's white, in mode and shape it seems + A lady's glove, but, as he spoke with none + By night within the garden whom, by chance, + He might have robbed of it--confused thereto + In his reflections by myself, who calls him + Up to the council in the palace, he + Forgets the thing he cannot comprehend, + And off-hand in his collar thrusts the glove. + +ELECTOR. Thereupon? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Thereupon with pen and tablet + He seeks the Castle, with devout attention + To take the orders from the Marshal's lips. + The Electress and the Princess, journey-bound, + By chance are likewise in the hall; but who + Shall gauge the uttermost bewilderment + That takes him, when the Princess turns to find + The very glove he thrust into his collar! + The Marshal calls again and yet again + 'The Prince of Homburg!' 'Marshal, to command!' + He cries, endeavoring to collect his thoughts; + But he, ringed round by marvels--why, the thunders + Of heaven might have fallen in our midst-- + + [_He pauses._] + +ELECTOR. It was the Princess' glove? + +HOHENZOLLERN. It was, indeed! + + [_The_ ELECTOR _sinks into a brown study._] + + A stone is he; the pencil's in his hand, + And he stands there, and seems a living man; + But consciousness, as by a magic wand, + Is quenched within him; not until the morrow, + As down the lines the loud artillery + Already roars, does he return to life, + Asking me: Say, what was it Dörfling said + Last night in council, that applied to me? + +MARSHAL. Truly, my liege, that tale I can indorse. + The Prince, I call to mind, took in no word + Of what I said; distraught I've seen him oft, + But never yet in such degree removed + From blood and bone, never, as on that night. + +ELECTOR. Now then, if I make out your reasoning, + You pile your climax on my shoulders thus: + Had I not dangerously made a jest + Of this young dreamer's state, he had remained + Guiltless, in council had not roamed the clouds, + Nor disobedient proved upon the field. + Eh? Eh? Is that the logic? + +HOHENZOLLERN. My liege lord, + I trust the filling of the gaps to you. + +ELECTOR. Fool that you are, you addlepate! Had you + Not called me to the garden, I had not, + Following a whim of curiosity, + Made harmless fun of this somnambulist. + Wherefore, and quite with equal right, I hold + The cause of his delinquency were you!-- + The delphic wisdom of my officers! + +HOHENZOLL. Enough, my sovereign! I am assured, + My words fell weightily upon your heart. + + + +SCENE VI + +_An officer enters. The others as before._ + + +OFFICER. My lord, the Prince will instantly appear. + +ELECTOR. Good, then! Let him come in. + +OFFICER. Two minutes, sir! + He but delayed a moment on the way + To beg a porter ope the graveyard gate. + +ELECTOR. The graveyard? + +OFFICER. Ay, my sovereign. + +ELECTOR. But why? + +OFFICER. To tell the truth, my lord, I do not know. + It seemed he wished to see the burial-vault + That your behest uncovered for him there. + + [_The commanders group themselves and talk together._] + +ELECTOR. No matter! When he comes, let him come in! + +[_He steps to the table again and glances at the papers._] + +TRUCHSZ. The watch is bringing in Prince Homburg now. + + + +SCENE VII + +_Enter the_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. _An officer and the watch. The others + as before._ + +ELECTOR. Young Prince of mine, I call you to my aid! + Here's Colonel Kottwitz brings this document + In your behalf, look, in long column signed + By hundred honorable gentlemen. + The army asks your liberty, it runs, + And will not tolerate the court's decree. + Come, read it and inform yourself, I beg. + + [_He hands him the paper._] + +THE PRINCE (_casts a glance at the document, turns and + looks about the circle of officers_). + Kottwitz, old friend, come, let me clasp your hand! + You give me more than on the day of battle + I merited of you. But now, post-haste, + Go, back again to Arnstein whence you came, + Nor budge at all. I have considered it; + The death decreed to me I will accept! + + [_He hands over the paper to him._] + +KOTTWITZ (_distressed_). + No, nevermore, my Prince! What are you saying? + +HOHENZOLL. He wants to die-- + +TRUCHSZ. He shall not, must not die! + +VARIOUS OFFICERS (_pressing forward_). + My lord Elector! Oh, my sovereign! Hear us! + +THE PRINCE. Hush! It is my inflexible desire! + Before the eyes of all the soldiery + I wronged the holy code of war; and now + By my free death I wish to glorify it. + My brothers, what's the one poor victory + I yet may snatch from Wrangel worth to you + Against the triumph o'er the balefullest + Of foes within, that I achieve at dawn-- + The insolent and disobedient heart. + Now shall the alien, seeking to bow down + Our shoulders 'neath his yoke, be crushed; and, free, + The man of Brandenburg shall take his stand + Upon the mother soil, for it is his-- + The splendor of her meads alone for him! + +KOTTWITZ (_moved_). + My son! My dearest friend! What shall I name you? + +TRUCHSZ. God of the world! + +KOTTWITZ. Oh, let me kiss your hand! + + [_They press round him._] + +THE PRINCE (_turning toward the_ ELECTOR). + But you, my liege, who bore in other days + A tenderer name I may no longer speak, + Before your feet, stirred to my soul, I kneel. + Forgive, that with a zeal too swift of foot + I served your cause on that decisive day; + Death now shall wash me clean of all my guilt. + But give my heart, that bows to your decree, + Serene and reconciled, this comfort yet: + To know your breast resigns all bitterness-- + And, in the hour of parting, as a proof, + One favor more, compassionately grant. + +ELECTOR. Young hero, speak! What is it you desire? + I pledge my word to you, my knightly honor, + It shall be granted you, whate'er it be! + +THE PRINCE. Not with your niece's hand, my sovereign, + Purchase the peace of Gustaf Karl! Expel, + Out of the camp, expel the bargainer + Who made this ignominious overture. + Write your response to him in cannon-shots! + +ELECTOR (_kissing his brow_). + As you desire then. With this kiss, my son, + That last appeal I grant. Indeed, wherein + Now have we need of such a sacrifice + That war's ill-fortune only could compel? + Why, in each word that you have spoken, buds + A victory that strikes the foeman low! + I'll write to him, the plighted bride is she + Of Homburg, dead because of Fehrbellin; + With his pale ghost, before our flags a-charge, + Let him do battle for her, on the field! + +[_He kisses him again and draws him to his feet._] + +THE PRINCE. Behold, now have you given me life indeed! + Now every blessing on you I implore + That from their cloudy thrones the seraphim + Pour forth exultant over hero-heads. + Go, and make war, and conquer, oh, my liege, + The world that fronts you--for you merit it! + +ELECTOR. Guards! Lead the prisoner back to his cell! + + + +SCENE VIII + +NATALIE _and the_ ELECTRESS _appear in the doorway, followed by +ladies-in-waiting. The others as before._ + +NATALIE. Mother! Decorum! Can you speak that word? + In such an hour there's none but just to love him-- + My dear, unhappy love! + +THE PRINCE (_turning_). Now I shall go! + +TRUCHSZ (_holding him_). + No, nevermore, my Prince! + + [_Several officers step in his way._] + +THE PRINCE. Take me away! + +HOHENZOLL. Liege, can your heart-- + +THE PRINCE (_tearing himself free_). + You tyrants, would you drag me + In fetters to my execution-place? + Go! I have closed my reckoning with this world. + + [_He goes out under guard._] + +NATALIE (_on the_ ELECTRESS' _breast_). + Open, O earth, receive me in your deeps. + Why should I look upon the sunlight more? + + + +SCENE IX + +_The persons, as in the preceding scene, with the exception of the_ +PRINCE OF HOMBURG. + +MARSHAL. God of earth! Did it have to come to that? + + [_The_ ELECTOR _speaks in a low voice to an officer._] + + +KOTTWITZ (_frigidly_). + My sovereign, after all that has occurred + Are we dismissed? + +ELECTOR. Not for the present, no! + I'll give you notice when you are dismissed! + +[_He regards him a moment straightly and steadily; then takes the +papers which the page has brought him from the table and turns to the_ +FIELD-MARSHAL.] + + This passport, take it, for Count Horn the Swede. + Tell him it is my cousin's wish, the Prince's, + Which I have pledged myself to carry out. + The war begins again in three days' time! + + [_Pause. He casts a glance at the death warrant._] + + Judge for yourselves, my lords. The Prince of Homburg + Through disobedience and recklessness + Of two of my best victories this year + Deprived me, and indeed impaired the third. + Now that he's had his schooling these last days + Come, will you risk it with him for a fourth? + +KOTTWITZ _and_ TRUCHSZ (_helter-skelter_). + What, my adored--my worshipped--What, my liege?-- + +ELECTOR. Will you? Will you? + +KOTTWITZ. Now, by the living God, + He'd watch you standing on destruction's brink + And never twitch his sword in your behalf, + Or rescue you unless you gave command. + +ELECTOR (_tearing up the death warrant_). + So, to the garden! Follow me, my friends! + + + +SCENE X + +_The Castle with the terrace leading down into the garden, as in ACT I. +It is night, as then.--The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG, _with bandaged eyes, +is led in through the lower garden-wicket, by_ CAPTAIN STRANZ. _Officers +with the guard. In the distance one can hear the drumming of the +death-march._ + +[Illustration: #STATUE OF THE GREAT ELECTOR# Sculptor, Andreas Schlüter] + +THE PRINCE. All art thou mine now, immortality! + Thou glistenest through the veil that blinds mine eyes + With that sun's glow that is a thousand suns. + I feel bright pinions from my shoulders start; + Through mute, ethereal spaces wings my soul; + And as the ship, borne outward by the wind, + Sees the bright harbor sink below the marge, + Thus all my being fades and is submerged. + Now I distinguish colors yet and forms, + And now--all life is fog beneath my feet. + +[_The_ PRINCE _seats himself on the bench which stands about the oak +in the middle of the open space. The_ CAPTAIN _draws away from him and +looks up toward the terrace._] + + How sweet the flowers fill the air with odor! + D'you smell them? + +STRANZ (_returning to him_). They are gillyflowers and pinks. + +THE PRINCE. How come the gillyflowers here? + +STRANZ. I know not. + It must have been some girl that planted them. + Come, will you have a bachelor's button? + +THE PRINCE. Thanks! + When I get home I'll have it put in water. + + + +SCENE XI + +_The_ ELECTOR _with the laurel-wreath, about which the golden chain is +twined, the_ ELECTRESS, PRINCESS NATALIE, FIELD-MARSHAL DÖRFLING, +COLONEL KOTTWITZ, HOHENZOLLERN, GOLZ, _and others. Ladies-in-waiting, +officers and boys bearing torches appear on the castle terrace_. +HOHENZOLLERN _steps to the balustrade and with a handkerchief signals +to_ CAPTAIN STRANZ, _whereupon the latter leaves the_ PRINCE OF +HOMBURG _and speaks a few words with the guards in the background_. + +THE PRINCE. What is the brightness breaking round me, say! + +STRANZ (_returning to him_). + My Prince, will you be good enough to rise? + +THE PRINCE. What's coming? + +STRANZ. Nothing that need wake your fear. + I only wish to free your eyes again. + +THE PRINCE. Has my ordeal's final hour struck? + +STRANZ (_as he draws the bandage from the_ PRINCE's _eyes_). + Indeed! Be blest, for well you merit it! + +[_The_ ELECTOR _gives the wreath, from which the chain is hanging, to +the_ PRINCESS, _takes her hand and leads her down from the terrace. +Ladies and gentlemen follow. Surrounded by torches, the_ PRINCESS +_approaches the_ PRINCE, _who looks up in amazement; sets the wreath +on his head, the chain about his neck and presses his hand to her +breast. The_ PRINCE _tumbles in a faint_.] + +NATALIE. Heaven! The joy has killed him! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_raising him_). Help, bring help! + +ELECTOR. Let him be wakened by the cannons' thunder! + + [_Artillery fire. A march. The Castle is illuminated._] + +KOTTWITZ. Hail, hail, the Prince of Homburg! + +OFFICERS. Hail, hail, hail! + +ALL. The victor of the field of Fehrbellin! + + [_Momentary silence._] + +THE PRINCE. No! Say! Is it a dream? + +KOTTWITZ. A dream, what else? + +SEVERAL OFFICERS. To arms! to arms! + +TRUCHSZ. To war! + +DÖRFLING. To victory! + +ALL. In dust with all the foes of Brandenburg! + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 2: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 3: Ten o'clock.] + +[Footnote 4: Of Jupiter Tonans.] + +[Footnote 5: The body in the Pantheon, the head in Saint Luke's +church.] + +[Footnote 6: Strassburg.] + +[Footnote 7: The hall of the Pantheon seems too low, because a part of +its steps is hidden by the rubbish.] + +[Footnote 8: This opening in the roof is twenty-seven feet in +diameter.] + +[Footnote 9: The Pole-star, as well as other northern constellations, +stands lower in the south.] + +[Footnote 10: The German texts read: _Reben_, vines. But the +conjecture _Raben_ as the correct reading may be permitted.--ED.] + +[Footnote 11: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 12: This appropriate expression was, if we mistake not, +first used by M. Adam Müller in his _Lectures on German Science and +Literature_. If, however, he gives himself out as the inventor of the +thing itself, he is, to use the softest word, in error. Long before +him other Germans had endeavored to reconcile the contrarieties of +taste of different ages and nations, and to pay due homage to all +genuine poetry and art. Between good and bad, it is true, no +reconciliation is possible.] + +[Footnote 13: This difficulty extends also to France; for it must not +be supposed that a literal translation can ever be a faithful one. +Mrs. Montague has done enough to prove how wretchedly even Voltaire, +in his rhymeless Alexandrines, has translated a few passages from +_Hamlet_ and the first act of _Julius Cæsar_.] + +[Footnote 14: It begins with the words: _A mind reflecting ages past_, +and is subscribed I.M.S.] + +[Footnote 15: Lessing was the first to speak of Shakespeare in a +becoming tone; but he said, unfortunately, a great deal too little of +him, as in the time when he wrote the _Dramaturgie_ this poet had not +yet appeared on our stage. Since that time he has been more +particularly noticed by Herder in the _Blätter von deutscher Art und +Kunst_; Goethe, in _Wilhelm Meister_; and Tieck, in "Letters on +Shakespeare" (_Poetisches Journal_, 1800), which break off, however, +almost at the commencement.] + +[Footnote 16: The English work with which foreigners of every country +are perhaps best acquainted is Hume's _History_; and there we have a +most unjustifiable account both of Shakespeare and his age. "Born in a +_rude age_, and educated in the lowest manner, without any instruction +either _from the world_ or from books." How could a man of Hume's +acuteness suppose for a moment that a poet, whose characters display +such an intimate acquaintance with life, who, as an actor and manager +of a theatre, must have come in contact with all descriptions of +individuals, had no instruction from the world? But this is not the +worst; he goes even so far as to say, "a reasonable propriety of +thought he cannot for any time uphold." This is nearly as offensive as +Voltaire's "drunken savage."--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 17: In my lectures on _The Spirit of the Age_.] + +[Footnote 18: In one of his sonnets he says: + + O, for my sake do you with fortune chide + The guilty goddess of my harmless deeds, + That did not better for my life provide + _Than public means which public manners breeds_. + +And in the following: + + Your love and pity doth the impression fill, + which _vulgar scandal_ stamp'd upon my brow.] + +[Footnote 19: + + And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, + That so did take Eliza and our James!] + +[Footnote 20: This is perhaps not uncommon still in some countries. +The Venetian Director Medebach, for whose company many of Goldoni's +Comedies were composed, claimed an exclusive right to them.--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 21: _Twelfth Night, or What You Will_--Act iii., scene 2.] + +[Footnote 22: _As You Like It_.] + +[Footnote 23: In one of the commendatory poems in the first folio +edition: + + And on the stage at _half sword parley_ were + Brutus and Cassius.] + +[Footnote 24: In the first volume of _Charakteristiken und Kritiken_, +published by my brother and myself.] + +[Footnote 25: A contemporary of the poet, the author of the +already-noticed poem, (subscribed I.M.S.), tenderly felt this when he +said: + + Yet so to temper passion that our ears + Take pleasure in their pain, and eyes in tears + Both smile and weep.] + +[Footnote 26: In Hamlet's directions to the players. Act iii., scene +2.] + +[Footnote 27: See Hamlet's praise of Yorick. In _Twelfth Night_, +Viola says: + + This fellow is wise enough to play the fool, + And to do that well craves a kind of wit; + He must observe their mood on whom he jests, + The quality of the persons, and the time; + And like the haggard, check at every feather + That comes before his eye. This is a practice + As full of labor as a wise man's art: + For folly that he wisely shows is fit, + But wise men's folly fall'n quite taints their wit.--AUTHOR. + +The passages from Shakespeare, in the original work, are given from the +author's masterly translation. We may be allowed, however, to observe that +the last line-- + + "Doch wozu ist des Weisen Thorheit nutz?" + +literally, _Of what use is the folly of the wise?_--does not convey the +exact meaning of Shakespeare.--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 28: "Since the little wit that fools have was silenced, the +little foolery that wise men have makes a greater show."--_As You Like +It_, Act I, scene 2.] + +[Footnote 29: Charles the Bold, of Burgundy, is known to have +frequently boasted that he wished to rival Hannibal as the greatest +general of all ages. After his defeat at Granson, his fool accompanied +him in his hurried flight, and exclaimed, "Ah, your Grace, they have +for once Hanniballed us!" If the Duke had given an ear to this warning +raillery, he would not so soon afterward have come to a disgraceful +end.] + +[Footnote 30: I shall take the opportunity of saying a few words +respecting this species of drama when I come to speak of Ben Jonson.] + +[Footnote 31: Here follows, in the original, a so-called "Allegory of +Impudence."--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] + +[Footnote 32: Here follows in the original a biographic sketch called +"Apprenticeship of Manhood."--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] + +[Footnote 33: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 34: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork. From _Spiritual +Songs_ (1799).] + +[Footnote 35: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork. From _Spiritual +Songs_ (1799).] + +[Footnote 36: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.] + +[Footnote 37: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth +and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV, by Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN CLASSICS, IV. *** + +***** This file should be named 12060-8.txt or 12060-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/0/6/12060/ + +Produced by Stan Goodman, Jayam Subramanian and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +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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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/12060-8.zip b/old/12060-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..27eda19 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12060-8.zip diff --git a/old/12060.txt b/old/12060.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab3fb0a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12060.txt @@ -0,0 +1,20727 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth and +Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV, by Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke + +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.org + + +Title: The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV + Masterpieces of German Literature Translated into English. In Twenty + Volumes. + + +Author: Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke + +Release Date: April 16, 2004 [EBook #12060] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN CLASSICS, IV. *** + + + + +Produced by Stan Goodman, Jayam Subramanian and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + + + + + + + +#THE GERMAN CLASSICS# + + + + +Masterpieces of German Literature + +TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH + + + + +IN TWENTY VOLUMES + + + + +ILLUSTRATED + +1914 + + + +VOLUME IV + + * * * * * + + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOLUME IV + + +JEAN PAUL + + The Life of Jean Paul. By Benjamin W. Wells. + + Quintus Fixlein's Wedding. Translated by Thomas Carlyle. + + Rome. Translated by C. T. Brooks. + + The Opening of the Will. Translated by Frances H. King. + +WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT + + Schiller and the Process of His Intellectual Development. Translated + by Frances H. King. + + The Early Romantic School. By James Taft Hatfield. + +AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL + + Lectures on Dramatic Art. Translated by John Black. + +FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + + Introduction to Lucinda. By Calvin Thomas. + + Lucinda. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + Aphorisms. Translated by Louis H. Gray. + +NOVALIS (FRIEDRICH VON HARDENBERG) + + The Story of Hyacinth and Roseblossom. Translated by Lillie Winter. + + Aphorisms. Translated by Frederic H. Hedge. + + Hymn to Night. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + Though None Thy Name Should Cherish. Translated by Charles Wharton + Stork. + + To the Virgin. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + +FRIEDRICH HOeLDERLIN + + Hyperion's Song of Fate. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + + Evening Phantasie. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork. + +LUDWIG TIECK + + Puss in Boots. Translated by Lillie Winter. + + Fair Eckbert. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas. + + The Elves. Translated by Frederic H. Hedge. + +HEINRICH VON KLEIST + + The Life of Heinrich von Kleist. By John S. Nollen. + + Michael Kohlhaas. Translated by Frances H. King. + + The Prince of Homburg. Translated by Hermann Hagedorn. + + +ILLUSTRATIONS--VOLUME IV + + Lonely Ride. By Hans Thoma. + + Jean Paul. By E. Hader. + + Bridal Procession. By Ludwig Richter. + + Wilhelm von Humboldt. By Franz Krueger. + + The University of Berlin. + + A Hermit watering Horses. By Moritz von Schwind. + + A Wanderer looks into a Landscape. By Moritz von Schwind. + + The Chapel in the Forest. By Moritz von Schwind. + + August Wilhelm Schlegel. + + Caroline Schlegel. + + Friedrich Schlegel. By E. Hader. + + The Creation. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Novalis. By Eduard Eichens. + + The Queen of Night. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Friedrich Hoelderlin. By E. Hader. + + Ludwig Tieck. By Vogel von Vogelstein. + + Puss in Boots. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Dance of the Elves. By Moritz von Schwind. + + Heinrich von Kleist. + + Sarcophagus of Queen Louise in the Mausoleum at Charlottenburg. By + Christian Rauch. + + The Royal Castle at Berlin. + + Statue of the Great Elector. By Andreas Schlueter. + + + + +EDITOR'S NOTE + +From this volume on, an attempt will be made to bring out, in the +illustrations, certain broad tendencies of German painting in the +nineteenth century, parallel to the literary development here +represented. There will be few direct illustrations of the subject +matter of the text. Instead, each volume will be dominated, as far as +possible, by a master, or a group of masters, whose works offer an +artistic analogy to the character and spirit of the works of literature +contained in it. Volumes IV and V, for instance, being devoted to German +Romantic literature of the early nineteenth century, will present at the +same time selections from the work of two of the foremost Romantic +painters of Germany: Moritz von Schwind and Ludwig Richter. It is hoped +that in this way THE GERMAN CLASSICS OF THE NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH +CENTURIES will shed a not unwelcome side-light upon the development of +modern German art. + +KUNO FRANCKE. + + + + +JEAN PAUL + + * * * * * + +THE LIFE OF JEAN PAUL + +By BENJAMIN W. WELLS, Ph.D. + +Author of _Modern German Literature_. + +"The Spring and I came into the world together," Jean Paul liked to +tell his friends when in later days of comfort and fame he looked back +on his early years. He was, in fact, born on the first day (March 21) +and at almost the first hour of the Spring of 1763 at Wunsiedel in the +Fichtelgebirge, the very heart of Germany. The boy was christened +Johann Paul Friedrich Richter. His parents called him Fritz. It was +not till 1793 that, with a thought of Jean Jacques Rousseau, he called +himself Jean Paul. + +Place and time are alike significant in his birth. Wunsiedel was a +typical German hill village; the ancestry, as far back as we can trace +it, was typically German, as untouched as Wunsiedel itself, by any +breath of cosmopolitan life. It meant much that the child who was in +later life to interpret most intimately the spirit of the German +people through the days of the French Revolution, of the Napoleonic +tyranny and of the War of Liberation, who was to be a bond between the +old literature and the new, beside, yet independent of, the men of +Weimar, should have such heredity and such environment. Richter's +grandfather had held worthily minor offices in the church, his father +had followed in his churchly steps with especial leaning to music; his +maternal grandfather was a well-to-do clothmaker in the near-by town +of Hof, his mother a long-suffering housewife. It was well that Fritz +brought sunshine with him into the world; for his temperament was his +sole patrimony and for many years his chief dependence. He was the +eldest of seven children. None, save he, passed unscathed through the +privations and trials of the growing household with its accumulating +burdens of debt. For Fritz these trials meant but the tempering of his +wit, the mellowing of his humor, the deepening of his sympathies. + +When Fritz was two years old the family moved to Joditz, another +village of the Fichtelgebirge. Of his boyhood here Jean Paul in his +last years set down some mellowed recollections. He tells how his +father, still in his dressing gown, used to take him and his brother +Adam across the Saale to dig potatoes and gather nuts, alternating in +the labor and the play; how his thrifty mother would send him with the +provision bag to her own mother's at Hof, who would give him goodies +that he would share with some little friend. He tells, too, of his +rapture at his first A B C book and its gilded cover, and of his +eagerness at school, until his too-anxious father took him from +contact with the rough peasant boys and tried to educate him himself, +an experience not without value, at least as a warning, to the future +author of _Levana_. But if the Richters were proud, they were very +poor. The boys used to count it a privilege to carry the father's +coffee-cup to him of a Sunday morning, as he sat by the window +meditating his sermon, for then they could carry it back again "and +pick the unmelted remains of sugar-candy from the bottom of it." +Simple pleasures surely, but, as Carlyle says, "there was a bold, +deep, joyful spirit looking through those young eyes, and to such a +spirit the world has nothing poor, but all is rich and full of +loveliness and wonder." + +Every book that the boy Fritz could anywise come at was, he tells us, +"a fresh green spring-place," where "rootlets, thirsty for knowledge +pressed and twisted in every direction to seize and absorb." Very +characteristic of the later Jean Paul is one incident of his childhood +which, he says, made him doubt whether he had not been born rather for +philosophy than for imaginative writing. He was witness to the birth +of his own self-consciousness. + +[Illustration: JEAN PAUL] + +"One forenoon," he writes, "I was standing, a very young child, by +the house door, looking to the left at the wood-pile, when, all at +once, like a lightning flash from heaven, the inner vision arose +before me: I am an _I_. It has remained ever since radiant. At that +moment my _I_ saw itself for the first time and forever." + +It is curious to contrast this childhood, in the almost cloistered +seclusion of the Fichtelgebirge, with Goethe's at cosmopolitan +Frankfurt or even with Schiller's at Marbach. Much that came unsought, +even to Schiller, Richter had a struggle to come by; much he could +never get at all. The place of "Frau Aja" in the development of the +child Goethe's fancy was taken at Joditz by the cow-girl. Eagerness to +learn Fritz showed in pathetic fulness, but the most diligent search +has revealed no trace in these years of that creative imagination with +which he was so richly dowered. + +When Fritz was thirteen his father received a long-hoped-for promotion +to Schwarzenbach, a market town near Hof, then counting some 1,500 +inhabitants. The boy's horizon was thus widened, though the family +fortunes were far from finding the expected relief. Here Fritz first +participated in the Communion and has left a remarkable record of his +emotional experience at "becoming a citizen in the city of God." About +the same time, as was to be expected, came the boy's earliest strong +emotional attachment. Katharina Baerin's first kiss was, for him, "a +unique pearl of a minute, such as never had been and never was to be." +But, as with the Communion, though the memory remained, the feeling +soon passed away. + +The father designed Fritz, evidently the most gifted of his sons, for +the church, and after some desultory attempts at instruction in +Schwarzenbach, sent him in 1779 to the high school at Hof. His +entrance examination was brilliant, a last consolation to the father, +who died, worn out with the anxieties of accumulating debt, a few +weeks later. From his fellow pupils the country lad suffered much till +his courage and endurance had compelled respect. His teachers were +conscientious but not competent. In the liberally minded Pastor Vogel +of near-by Rehau, however, he found a kindred spirit and a helpful +friend. In this clergyman's generously opened library the thirsty +student made his first acquaintance with the unorthodox thought of his +time, with Lessing and Lavater, Goethe and even Helvetius. When in +1781 he left Hof for the University of Leipzig the pastor took leave +of the youth with the prophetic words: "You will some time be able to +render me a greater service than I have rendered you. Remember this +prophecy." + +Under such stimulating encouragement Richter began to write. Some +little essays, two addresses, and a novel, a happy chance has +preserved. The novel is an echo of Goethe's _Werther_, the essays are +marked by a clear, straightforward style, an absence of sentimentality +or mysticism, and an eagerness for reform that shows the influence of +Lessing. Religion is the dominant interest, but the youth is no longer +orthodox, indeed he is only conditionally Christian. + +With such literary baggage, fortified with personal recommendations +and introductions from the Head Master at Hof, with a Certificate of +Maturity and a _testimonium paupertatis_ that might entitle him to +remission of fees and possibly free board, Richter went to Leipzig. +From the academic environment and its opportunities he got much, from +formal instruction little. He continued to be in the main self-taught +and extended his independence in manners and dress perhaps a little +beyond the verge of eccentricity. Meantime matters at home were going +rapidly from bad to worse. His grandfather had died; the inheritance +had been largely consumed in a law-suit. He could not look to his +mother for help and did not look to her for counsel. He suffered from +cold and stretched his credit for rent and food to the breaking point. +But the emptier his stomach the more his head abounded in plans "for +writing books to earn money to buy books." He devised a system of +spelling reform and could submit to his pastor friend at Rehau in 1782 +a little sheaf of essays on various aspects of Folly, the student +being now of an age when, like Iago, he was "nothing if not critical." +Later these papers seemed to him little better than school exercises, +but they gave a promise soon to be redeemed in _Greenland Law-Suits_, +his first volume to find a publisher. These satirical sketches, +printed early in 1783, were followed later in that year by another +series, but both had to wait 38 years for a second edition, much +mellowed in revision--not altogether to its profit. + +The point of the _Law-Suits_ is directed especially against +theologians and the nobility. Richter's uncompromising fierceness +suggests youthful hunger almost as much as study of Swift. But +Lessing, had he lived to read their stinging epigrams, would have +recognized in Richter the promise of a successor not unworthy to carry +the biting acid of the _Disowning Letter_ over to the hand of Heine. + +The _Law-Suits_ proved too bitter for the public taste and it was +seven years before their author found another publisher. Meanwhile +Richter was leading a precarious existence, writing for magazines at +starvation prices, and persevering in an indefatigable search for some +one to undertake his next book, _Selections from the Papers of the +Devil_. A love affair with the daughter of a minor official which she, +at least, took seriously, interrupted his studies at Leipzig even +before the insistence of creditors compelled him to a clandestine +flight. This was in 1784. Then he shared for a time his mother's +poverty at Hof and from 1786 to 1789 was tutor in the house of +Oerthel, a parvenu Commercial-Counsellor in Toepen. This experience he +was to turn to good account in _Levana_ and in his first novel, _The +Invisible Lodge_, in which the unsympathetic figure of Roeper is +undoubtedly meant to present the not very gracious personality of the +Kommerzienrat. + +To this period belongs a collection of _Aphorisms_ whose bright wit +reveals deep reflection. They show a maturing mind, keen insight, +livelier and wider sympathies. The _Devil's Papers_, published in +1789, when Richter, after a few months at Hof, was about to become +tutor to the children of three friendly families in Schwarzenbach, +confirm the impression of progress. In his new field Richter had great +freedom to develop his ideas of education as distinct from +inculcation. Rousseau was in the main his guide, and his success in +stimulating childish initiative through varied and ingenious +pedagogical experiments seems to have been really remarkable. + +Quite as remarkable and much more disquieting were the ideas about +friendship and love which Richter now began to develop under the +stimulating influence of a group of young ladies at Hof. In a note +book of this time he writes: "Prize question for the Erotic Academy: +How far may friendship toward women go and what is the difference +between it and love?" That Richter called this circle his "erotic +academy" is significant. He was ever, in such relations, as alert to +observe as he was keen to sympathize and permitted himself an +astonishing variety of quickly changing and even simultaneous +experiments, both at Hof and later in the aristocratic circles that +were presently to open to him. In his theory, which finds fullest +expression in _Hesperus_, love was to be wholly platonic. If the first +kiss did not end it, the second surely would. "I do not seek," he +says, "the fairest face but the fairest heart. I can overlook all +spots on that, but none on this." "He does not love who _sees_ his +beloved, but he who _thinks_ her." That is the theory. The practice +was a little different. It shows Richter at Hof exchanging fine-spun +sentiments on God, immortality and soul-affinity with some half dozen +young women to the perturbation of their spirits, in a transcendental +atmosphere of sentiment, arousing but never fulfilling the expectation +of a formal betrothal. That Jean Paul was capable of inspiring love of +the common sort is abundantly attested by his correspondence. Perhaps +no man ever had so many women of education and social position "throw +themselves" at him; but that he was capable of returning such love in +kind does not appear from acts or letters at this time, or, save +perhaps for the first years of his married life, at any later period. + +The immediate effect of the bright hours at Hof on Richter as a writer +was wholly beneficent. _Mr. Florian Fuelbel's Journey_ and _Bailiff +Josuah Freudel's Complaint Bible_ show a new geniality in the +personification of amusing foibles. And with these was a real little +masterpiece, _Life of the Contented Schoolmaster Maria Wuz_, which +alone, said the Berlin critic Moritz, might suffice to make its author +immortal. In this delicious pedagogical idyl, written in December, +1790, the humor is sound, healthy, thoroughly German and +characteristic of Richter at his best. It seems as though one of the +great Dutch painters were guiding the pen, revealing the beauty of +common things and showing the true charm of quiet domesticity. +Richter's _Contented Schoolmaster_ lacked much in grace of form, but +it revealed unguessed resources in the German language, it showed +democratic sympathies more genuine than Rousseau's, it gave the +promise of a new pedagogy and a fruitful esthetic; above all it bore +the unmistakable mint-mark of genius. + +_Wuz_ won cordial recognition from the critics. With the general +public it was for the time overshadowed by the success of a more +ambitious effort, Richter's first novel, _The Invisible Lodge_. This +fanciful tale of an idealized freemasonry is a study of the effects in +after life of a secluded education. Though written in the year of the +storming of the Tuileries it shows the prose-poet of the +Fichtelgebirge as yet untouched by the political convulsions of the +time. The _Lodge_, though involved in plot and reaching an empty +conclusion, yet appealed very strongly to the Germans of 1793 by its +descriptions of nature and its sentimentalized emotion. It was truly +of its time. Men and especially women liked then, better than they do +now, to read how "the angel who loves the earth brought the most holy +lips of the pair together in an inextinguishable kiss, and a seraph +entered into their beating hearts and gave them the flames of a +supernal love." Of greater present interest than the heartbeats of +hero or heroine are the minor characters of the story, presenting +genially the various types of humor or studies from life made in the +"erotic academy" or in the families of Richter's pupils. The despotic +spendthrift, the Margrave of Bayreuth, has also his niche, or rather +pillory, in the story. Notable, too, is the tendency, later more +marked, to contrast the inconsiderate harshness of men with the +patient humility of women. Encouraged by Moritz, who declared the book +"better than Goethe," Richter for the first time signed his work "Jean +Paul." He was well paid for it and had no further serious financial +cares. + +Before the _Lodge_ was out of press Jean Paul had begun _Hesperus, or +45 Dog-post-days_, which magnified the merits of the earlier novel but +also exaggerated its defects. Wanton eccentricity was given fuller +play, formlessness seemed cultivated as an art. Digressions interrupt +the narrative with slender excuse, or with none; there is, as with the +English Sterne, an obtrusion of the author's personality; the style +seems as wilfully crude as the mastery in word-building and +word-painting is astonishing. On the other hand there is both greater +variety and greater distinction in the characters, a more developed +fabulation and a wonderful deepening and refinement of emotional +description. _Werther_ was not yet out of fashion and lovers of his +"Sorrows" found in _Hesperus_ a book after their hearts. It +established the fame of Jean Paul for his generation. It brought women +by swarms to his feet. They were not discouraged there. It was his +platonic rule "never to sacrifice one love to another," but to +experiment with "simultaneous love," "_tutti_ love," a "general +warmth" of universal affection. Intellectually awakened women were +attracted possibly as much by Richter's knowledge of their feelings as +by the fascination of his personality. _Hesperus_ lays bare many +little wiles dear to feminine hearts, and contains some keenly +sympathetic satire on German housewifery. + +While still at work on _Hesperus_ Jean Paul returned to his mother's +house at Hof. "Richter's study and sitting-room offered about this +time," says Doering, his first biographer, "a true and beautiful +picture of his simple yet noble mind, which took in both high and low. +While his mother bustled about the housework at fire or table he sat +in a corner of the same room at a plain writing-desk with few or no +books at hand, but only one or two drawers with excerpts and +manuscripts. * * * Pigeons fluttered in and out of the chamber." + +At Hof, Jean Paul continued to teach with originality and much success +until 1796, when an invitation from Charlotte von Kalb to visit Weimar +brought him new interests and connections. Meanwhile, having finished +_Hesperus_ in July, 1794, he began work immediately on the genial +_Life of Quintus Fixlein, Based on Fifteen Little Boxes of Memoranda_, +an idyl, like _Wuz_, of the schoolhouse and the parsonage, reflecting +Richter's pedagogical interests and much of his personal experience. +Its satire of philological pedantry has not yet lost pertinence or +pungency. Quintus, ambitious of authorship, proposes to himself a +catalogued interpretation of misprints in German books and other tasks +hardly less laboriously futile. His creator treats him with unfailing +good humor and "the consciousness of a kindred folly." Fixlein is the +archetypal pedant. The very heart of humor is in the account of the +commencement exercises at his school. His little childishnesses are +delightfully set forth; so, too, is his awe of aristocracy. He always +took off his hat before the windows of the manor house, even if he saw +no one there. The crown of it all is The Wedding. The bridal pair's +visit to the graves of by-gone loves is a gem of fantasy. But behind +all the humor and satire must not be forgotten, in view of what was to +follow, the undercurrent of courageous democratic protest which finds +its keenest expression in the "Free Note" to Chapter Six. _Fixlein_ +appeared in 1796. + +Richter's next story, the unfinished _Biographical Recreations under +the Cranium of a Giantess_, sprang immediately from a visit to +Bayreuth in 1794 and his first introduction to aristocracy. Its chief +interest is in the enthusiastic welcome it extends to the French +Revolution. Intrinsically more important is the _Flower, Fruit and +Thorn Pieces_ which crowded the other subject from his mind and tells +with much idyllic charm of "the marriage, life, death and wedding of +F. H. Siebenkaes, Advocate of the Poor" (1796-7). + +In 1796, at the suggestion of the gifted, emancipated and ill-starred +Charlotte von Kalb, Jean Paul visited Weimar, already a Mecca of +literary pilgrimage and the centre of neo-classicism. There, those +who, like Herder, were jealous of Goethe, and those who, like Frau von +Stein, were estranged from him, received the new light with +enthusiasm--others with some reserve. Goethe and Schiller, who were +seeking to blend the classical with the German spirit, demurred to the +vagaries of Jean Paul's unquestioned genius. His own account of his +visit to "the rock-bound Schiller" and to Goethe's "palatial hall" are +precious commonplaces of the histories of literature. There were sides +of Goethe's universal genius to which Richter felt akin, but he was +quite ready to listen to Herder's warning against his townsman's +"unrouged" infidelity, which had become socially more objectionable +since Goethe's union with Christiane Vulpius, and Jean Paul presently +returned to Hof, carrying with him the heart of Charlotte von Kalb, an +unprized and somewhat embarrassing possession. He wished no heroine; +for he was no hero, as he remarked dryly, somewhat later, when +Charlotte had become the first of many "beautiful souls" in confusion +of spirit about their heart's desire. + +In 1797 the death of Jean Paul's mother dissolved home bonds and he +soon left Hof forever, though still for a time maintaining diligent +correspondence with the "erotic academy" as well as with new and more +aristocratic "daughters of the Storm and Stress." The writings of this +period are unimportant, some of them unworthy. Jean Paul was for a +time in Leipzig and in Dresden. In October, 1798, he was again in +Weimar, which, in the sunshine of Herder's praise, seemed at first his +"Canaan," though he soon felt himself out of tune with Duchess +Amalia's literary court. To this time belongs a curious _Conjectural +Biography_, a pretty idyl of an ideal courtship and marriage as his +fancy now painted it for himself. Presently he was moved to essay the +realization of this ideal and was for a time betrothed to Karoline von +Feuchtersleben, her aristocratic connections being partially reconciled +to the _mesalliance_ by Richter's appointment as Legationsrat. He +begins already to look forward, a little ruefully, to the time when his +heart shall be "an extinct marriage-crater," and after a visit to +Berlin, where he basked in the smiles of Queen Luise, he was again +betrothed, this time to the less intellectually gifted, but as devoted +and better dowered Karoline Mayer, whom he married in 1801. He was then +in his thirty-eighth year. + +Richter's marriage is cardinal in his career. Some imaginative work he +was still to do, but the dominant interests were hereafter to be in +education and in political action. In his own picturesque language, +hitherto his quest had been for the golden fleece of womanhood, +hereafter it was to be for a crusade of men. The change had been +already foreshadowed in 1799 by his stirring paper _On Charlotte +Corday_ (published in 1801). + +_Titan_, which Jean Paul regarded as his "principal work and most +complete creation," had been in his mind since 1792. It was begun in +1797 and finished, soon after his betrothal, in 1800. In this novel the +thought of God and immortality is offered as a solution of all problems +of nature and society. _Titan_ is human will in contest with the +divine harmony. The maturing Richter has come to see that idealism in +thought and feeling must be balanced by realism in action if the thinker +is to bear his part in the work of the world. The novel naturally falls +far short of realizing its vast design. Once more the parts are more +than the whole. Some descriptive passages are very remarkable and the +minor characters, notably Roquairol, the Mephistophelean Lovelace, are +more interesting than the hero or the heroine. The unfinished _Wild +Oats_ of 1804, follows a somewhat similar design. The story of Walt +and Vult, twin brothers, Love and Knowledge, offers a study in contrasts +between the dreamy and the practical, with much self-revelation of the +antinomy in the author's own nature. There is something here to recall +his early satires, much more to suggest Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_. + +While _Wild Oats_ was in the making, Richter with his young wife and +presently their first daughter, Emma, was making a sort of triumphal +progress among the court towns of Germany. He received about this time +from Prince Dalberg a pension, afterward continued by the King of +Bavaria. In 1804 the family settled in Bayreuth, which was to remain +Richter's not always happy home till his death in 1825. + +The move to Bayreuth was marked by the appearance of _Introduction to +Esthetics_, a book that, even in remaining a fragment, shows the +parting of the ways. Under its frolicsome exuberance there is keen +analysis, a fine nobility of temper, and abundant subtle observation. +The philosophy was Herder's, and a glowing eulogy of him closes the +study. Its most original and perhaps most valuable section contains a +shrewd discrimination of the varieties of humor, and ends with a +brilliant praise of wit, as though in a recapitulating review of +Richter's own most distinctive contribution to German literature. + +The first fruit to ripen at the Bayreuth home was _Levana_, finished +in October, 1806, just as Napoleon was crushing the power of Prussia +at Jena. Though disconnected and unsystematic _Levana_ has been for +three generations a true yeast of pedagogical ideas, especially in +regard to the education of women and their social position in Germany. +Against the ignorance of the then existing conditions Jean Paul raised +eloquent and indignant protest. "Your teachers, your companions, even +your parents," he exclaims, "trample and crush the little flowers you +shelter and cherish. * * * Your hands are used more than your heads. +They let you play, but only with your fans. Nothing is pardoned you, +least of all a heart." What _Levana_ says of the use and abuse of +philology and about the study of history as a preparation for +political action is no less significant. Goethe, who had been reticent +of praise in regard to the novels, found in _Levana_ "the boldest +virtues without the least excess." + +From the education of children for life Richter turned naturally to +the education of his fellow Germans for citizenship. It was a time of +national crisis. Already in 1805 he had published a _Little Book of +Freedom_, in protest against the censorship of books. Now to his +countrymen, oppressed by Napoleon, he addressed at intervals from 1808 +to 1810, a _Peace Sermon, Twilight Thoughts for Germany_ and _After +Twilight_. Then, as the fires of Moscow heralded a new day, came +_Butterflies of the Dawn_; and when the War of Liberation was over and +the German rulers had proved false to their promises, these +"Butterflies" were expanded and transformed, in 1817, into _Political +Fast-Sermons for Germany's Martyr-Week_, in which Richter denounced +the princes for their faithlessness as boldly as he had done the +sycophants of Bonaparte. + +Most noteworthy of the minor writings of this period is _Dr. +Katzenberger's Journey to the Baths_, published in 1809. The effect of +this rollicking satire on affectation and estheticism was to arouse a +more manly spirit in the nation and so it helped to prepare for the +way of liberation. The patriotic youth of Germany now began to speak +and think of Richter as Jean Paul the Unique. In the years that follow +Waterloo every little journey that Richter took was made the occasion +of public receptions and festivities. Meanwhile life in the Bayreuth +home grew somewhat strained. Both partners might well have heeded +_Levana's_ counsel that "Men should show more love, women more common +sense." + +Of Richter's last decade two books only call for notice here, _Truth +about Jean Paul's Life_, a fragment of autobiography written in 1819, +and _The Comet_, a novel, also unfinished, published at intervals from +1820 to 1822. Hitherto, said Richter of _The Comet_, he had paid too +great deference to rule, "like a child born curled and forthwith +stretched on a swathing cushion." Now, in his maturity, he will, he +says, let himself go; and a wild tale he makes of it, exuberant in +fancy, rich in comedy, unbridled in humor. The Autobiography extends +only to Schwarzenbach and his confirmation, but of all his writings it +has perhaps the greatest charm. + +Richter's last years were clouded by disease, mental and physical, and +by the death of his son Max. A few weeks before his own death he +arranged for an edition of his complete works, for which he was to +receive 35,000 thaler ($26,000). For this he sought a special +privilege, copyright being then very imperfect in Germany, on the +ground that in all his works not one line could be found to offend +religion or virtue. + +He died on November 14, 1825. On the evening of November 17 was the +funeral. Civil and military, state and city officials took part in it. +On the bier was borne the unfinished manuscript of _Selina_, an essay +on immortality. Sixty students with lighted torches escorted the +procession. Other students bore, displayed, _Levana_ and the +_Introduction to Esthetics_. + +Sixteen years after Richter's death the King of Bavaria erected a +statue to him in Bayreuth. But his most enduring monument had already +long been raised in the funeral oration by Ludwig Boerne at Frankfurt. +"A Star has set," said the orator, "and the eye of this century will +close before it rises again, for bright genius moves in wide orbits +and our distant descendants will be first again to bid glad welcome +to that from which their fathers have taken sad leave. * * * We shall +mourn for him whom we have lost and for those others who have not lost +him, for he has not lived for all. Yet a time will come when he shall +be born for all and all will lament him. But he will stand patient on +the threshold of the twentieth century and wait smiling till his +creeping people shall come to join him." + + + + +QUINTUS FIXLEIN'S WEDDING[1] + +From _The Life of Quintus Fixlein_ (1796) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY T. CARLYLE + +At the sound of the morning prayer-bell, the bridegroom--for the din +of preparation was disturbing his quiet orison--went out into the +churchyard, which (as in many other places) together with the church, +lay round his mansion like a court. Here, on the moist green, over +whose closed flowers the churchyard wall was still spreading broad +shadows, did his spirit cool itself from the warm dreams of Earth: +here, where the white flat grave-stone of his Teacher lay before him +like the fallen-in door of the Janus-temple of life, or like the +windward side of the narrow house, turned toward the tempests of the +world: here, where the little shrunk metallic door on the grated cross +of his father uttered to him the inscriptions of death, and the year +when his parent departed, and all the admonitions and mementos, graven +on the lead--there, I say, his mood grew softer and more solemn; and +he now lifted up by heart his morning prayer, which usually he read, +and entreated God to bless him in his office, and to spare his +mother's life, and to look with favor and acceptance on the purpose of +today. Then, over the graves, he walked into his fenceless little +angular flower-garden; and here, composed and confident in the divine +keeping, he pressed the stalks of his tulips deeper into the mellow +earth. + +But on returning to the house, he was met on all hands by the +bell-ringing and the Janizary-music of wedding-gladness; the +marriage-guests had all thrown off their nightcaps, and were drinking +diligently; there was a clattering, a cooking, a frizzling; +tea-services, coffee-services, and warm beer-services, were advancing +in succession; and plates full of bride-cakes were going round like +potter's frames or cistern-wheels. The Schoolmaster, with three young +lads, was heard rehearsing from his own house an _Arioso_, with which, +so soon as they were perfect, he purposed to surprise his clerical +superior. But now rushed all the arms of the foaming joy-streams into +one, when the sky-queen besprinkled with blossoms the bride, descended +upon Earth in her timid joy, full of quivering, humble love; when the +bells began; when the procession-column set forth with the whole village +round and before it; when the organ, the congregation, the officiating +priest, and the sparrows on the trees of the church-window, struck louder +and louder their rolling peals on the drum of the jubilee-festival. + +* * * The heart of the singing bridegroom was like to leap from its +place for joy "that on his bridal-day it was all so respectable and +grand." Not till the marriage benediction could he pray a little. + +Still worse and louder grew the business during dinner, when +pastry-work and march-pane-devices were brought forward, when glasses, +and slain fishes (laid under the napkins to frighten the guests) went +round, and when the guests rose and themselves went round, and, at +length, danced round: for they had instrumental music from the city +there. + +One minute handed over to the other the sugar-bowl and bottle-case of +joy: the guests heard and saw less and less, and the villagers began +to see and hear more and more, and toward night they penetrated like a +wedge into the open door--nay, two youths ventured even in the middle +of the parsonage-court to mount a plank over a beam and commence +seesawing. Out of doors, the gleaming vapor of the departed sun was +encircling the earth, the evening-star was glittering over parsonage +and churchyard; no one heeded it. + +However, about nine o'clock, when the marriage-guests had well nigh +forgotten the marriage-pair, and were drinking or dancing along for +their own behoof; when poor mortals, in this sunshine of Fate, like +fishes in the sunshine of the sky, were leaping up from their wet +cold element; and when the bridegroom under the star of happiness and +love, casting like a comet its long train of radiance over all his +heaven, had in secret pressed to his joy-filled breast his bride and +his mother--then did he lock a slice of wedding-bread privily into a +press, in the old superstitious belief that this residue secured +continuance of bread for the whole marriage. As he returned, with +greater love for the sole partner of his life, she herself met him +with his mother, to deliver him in private the bridal-nightgown and +bridal-shirt, as is the ancient usage. Many a countenance grows pale +in violent emotions, even of joy. Thiennette's wax-face was bleaching +still whiter under the sunbeams of Happiness. O, never fall, thou lily +of Heaven, and may four springs instead of four seasons open and shut +thy flower-bells to the sun! All the arms of his soul, as he floated +on the sea of joy, were quivering to clasp the soft warm heart of his +beloved, to encircle it gently and fast, and draw it to his own. + +He led her from the crowded dancing-room into the cool evening. Why +does the evening, does the night, put warmer love in our hearts? Is it +the nightly pressure of helplessness or is it the exalting separation +from the turmoil of life--that veiling of the world, in which for the +soul nothing more remains but souls;--is it therefore that the letters +in which the loved name stands written on our spirit appear, like +phosphorus-writing, by night, _in fire_, while by day in their +_cloudy_ traces they but smoke? + +He walked with his bride into the Castle garden: she hastened quickly +through the Castle, and past its servants' hall, where the fair flowers +of her young life had been crushed broad and dry, under a long dreary +pressure; and her soul expanded and breathed in the free open garden, +on whose flowery soil destiny had cast forth the first seeds of the +blossoms which today were gladdening her existence. Still Eden! Green +flower-chequered _chiaroscuro_! The moon is sleeping under ground +like a dead one; but beyond the garden the sun's red evening-clouds +have fallen down like rose-leaves; and the evening-star, the brideman +of the sun, hovers, like a glancing butterfly, above the rosy red, +and, modest as a bride, deprives no single starlet of its light. + +[Illustration: BRIDAL PROCESSION _From the Painting by Ludwig Richter_] + +The wandering pair arrived at the old gardener's hut, now standing +locked and dumb, with dark windows in the light garden, like a +fragment of the Past surviving in the Present. Bared twigs of trees +were folding, with clammy half-formed leaves, over the thick +intertwisted tangles of the bushes. The Spring was standing, like a +conqueror, with Winter at his feet. In the blue pond, now bloodless, a +dusky evening sky lay hollowed out, and the gushing waters were +moistening the flower-beds. The silver sparks of stars were rising on +the altar of the East, and, falling down, were extinguished in the red +sea of the West. + +The wind whirred, like a night-bird, louder through the trees, and +gave tones to the acacia-grove; and the tones called to the pair who +had first become happy within it: "Enter, new mortal pair, and think +of what is past, and of my withering and your own; be holy as Eternity, +and weep not only for joy, but for gratitude also!" And the wet-eyed +bridegroom led his wet-eyed bride under the blossoms, and laid his +soul, like a flower, on her heart, and said: "Best Thiennette, I am +unspeakably happy, and would say much, but cannot! Ah, thou Dearest, +we will live like angels, like children together! Surely I will do +all that is good to thee; two years ago I had nothing, no, nothing; +ah, it is through thee, best love, that I am happy. I call thee Thou, +now, thou dear good soul!" She drew him closer to her, and said, though +without kissing him: "Call me Thou always, Dearest!" + +And as they stept forth again from the sacred grove into the +magic-dusky garden, he took off his hat; first, that he might +internally thank God, and, secondly, because he wished to look into +this fairest evening sky. + +They reached the blazing, rustling, marriage-house, but their +softened hearts sought stillness; and a foreign touch, as in the +blossoming vine, would have disturbed the flower-nuptials of their +souls. They turned rather, and winded up into the churchyard to +preserve their mood. Majestic on the groves and mountains stood the +Night before man's heart, and made that also great. Over the _white_ +steeple-obelisk the sky rested _bluer_, and _darker_; and, behind it, +wavered the withered summit of the May-pole with faded flag. The son +noticed his father's grave, on which the wind was opening and +shutting, with harsh noise, the little door of the metal cross, to let +the year of his death be read on the brass plate within. As an +overpowering sadness seized his heart with violent streams of tears, +and drove him to the sunk hillock, he led his bride to the grave, and +said: "Here sleeps he, my good father; in his thirty-second year he +was carried hither to his long rest. O thou good, dear father, couldst +thou today but see the happiness of thy son, like my mother! But thy +eyes are empty, and thy breast is full of ashes, and thou seest us +not." He was silent. The bride wept aloud; she saw the moldering +coffins of her parents open, and the two dead arise and look round for +their daughter, who had stayed so long behind them, forsaken on the +earth. She fell upon his heart, and faltered: "O beloved, I have +neither father nor mother. Do not forsake me!" + +O thou who hast still a father and a mother, thank God for it, on the +day when thy soul is full of joyful tears and needs a bosom whereon to +shed them. + +And with this embracing at a father's grave, let this day of joy be +holily concluded. + + + + +ROME[2] + +From _Titan_ (1800) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY C. T. BROOKS + +Half an hour after the earthquake the heavens swathed themselves in +seas, and dashed them down in masses and in torrents. The naked +_Campagna_ and heath were covered with the mantle of rain. Gaspard was +silent, the heavens black; the great thought stood alone in Albano +that he was hastening on toward the bloody scaffold and the +throne-scaffolding of humanity, the heart of a cold, dead +heathen-world, the eternal Rome; and when he heard, on the _Ponte +Molle_, that he was now going across the Tiber, then was it to him as +if the past had risen from the dead, as if the stream of time ran +backward and bore him with it; under the streams of heaven he heard +the seven old mountain-streams, rushing and roaring, which once came +down from Rome's hills, and, with seven arms, uphove the world from +its foundations. At length the constellation of the mountain city of +God, that stood so broad before him, opened out into distant nights; +cities, with scattered lights, lay up and down, and the bells (which +to his ear were alarm-bells) sounded out the fourth hour; [3] when the +carriage rolled through the triumphal gate of the city, the _Porta del +Popolo_, then the moon rent her black heavens, and poured down out of +the cleft clouds the splendor of a whole sky. There stood the Egyptian +Obelisk of the gateway, high as the clouds, in the night, and three +streets ran gleaming apart. "So," (said Albano to himself, as they +passed through the long _Corso_ to the tenth ward) "thou art veritably +in the camp of the God of war--here is where he grasped the hilt of +the monstrous war-sword, and with the point made the three wounds in +three quarters of the world!" Rain and splendor gushed through the +vast, broad streets; occasionally he passed suddenly along by gardens, +and into broad city-deserts and market-places of the past. The rolling +of the carriages amidst the rush and roar of the rain resembled the +thunder whose days were once holy to this heroic city, like the +thundering heaven to the thundering earth; muffled-up forms, with +little lights, stole through the dark streets; often there stood a +long palace with colonnades in the light of the moon, often a solitary +gray column, often a single high fir tree, or a statue behind +cypresses. Once, when there was neither rain nor moonshine, the +carriage went round the corner of a large house, on whose roof a tall, +blooming virgin, with an uplooking child on her arm, herself directed +a little hand-light, now toward a white statue, now toward the child, +and so, alternately, illuminated each. This friendly group made its +way to the very centre of his soul, now so highly exalted, and brought +with it, to him, many a recollection; particularly was a Roman child +to him a wholly new and mighty idea. + +They alighted at last at the Prince _di Lauria's_--Gaspard's +father-in-law and old friend. * * * Albano, dissatisfied with all, kept +his inspiration sacrificing to the unearthly gods of the past round +about him, after the old fashion, namely, with silence. Well might he +and could he have discussed, but otherwise, namely in odes, with the +whole man, with streams which mount and grow upward. He looked even more +and more longingly out of the window at the moon in the pure rain-blue, +and at single columns of the Forum; out of doors there gleamed for him +the greatest world. At last he rose up, indignant and impatient, and +stole down into the glimmering glory, and stepped before the Forum; but +the moonlit night, that decoration-painter, which works with irregular +strokes, made almost the very stage of the scene irrecognizable to him. + +What a dreary, broad plain, loftily encompassed with ruins, gardens +and temples, covered with prostrate capitals of columns, and with +single, upright pillars, and with trees and a dumb wilderness! The +heaped-up ashes out of the emptied urn of Time! And the potsherds of a +great world flung around! He passed by three temple columns,[4] which +the earth had drawn down into itself even to the breast, and along +through the broad triumphal arch of Septimius Severus; on the right, +stood a chain of columns without their temple; on the left, attached +to a Christian church, the colonnade of an ancient heathen temple, +deep sunken into the sediment of time; at last the triumphal arch of +Titus, and before it, in the middle of the woody wilderness, a +fountain gushing into a granite basin. + +He went up to this fountain, in order to survey the plain out of which +the thunder months of the earth once arose; but he went along as over +a burnt-out sun, hung round with dark, dead earths. "O Man, O the +dreams of Man!" something within him unceasingly cried. He stood on +the granite margin, turning toward the Coliseum, whose mountain ridges +of wall stood high in the moonlight, with the deep gaps which had been +hewn in them by the scythe of Time. Sharply stood the rent and ragged +arches of Nero's golden house close by, like murderous cutlasses. The +Palatine Hill lay full of green gardens, and, in crumbling +temple-roofs, the blooming death-garland of ivy was gnawing, and +living ranunculi still glowed around sunken capitals. The fountain +murmured babblingly and forever, and the stars gazed steadfastly down, +with transitory rays, upon the still battlefield over which the winter +of time had passed without bringing after it a spring; the fiery soul +of the world had flown up, and the cold, crumbling giant lay around; +torn asunder were the gigantic spokes of the main-wheel, which once +the very stream of ages drove. And in addition to all this, the moon +shed down her light like eating silver-water upon the naked columns, +and would fain have dissolved the Coliseum and the temples and all +into their own shadows! + +Then Albano stretched out his arm into the air, as if he were giving +an embrace and flowing away as in the arms of a stream, and exclaimed, +"O ye mighty shades, ye, who once strove and lived here, ye are +looking down from Heaven, but scornfully, not sadly, for your great +fatherland has died and gone after you! Ah, had I, on the +insignificant earth, full of old eternity which you have made great, +only done one action worthy of you! Then were it sweet to me and +legitimate to open my heart by a wound, and to mix earthly blood with +the hallowed soil, and, out of the world of graves, to hasten away to +you, eternal and immortal ones! But I am not worthy of it!" + +At this moment there came suddenly along up the _Via Sacra_ a tall +man, deeply enveloped in a mantle, who drew near the fountain without +looking round, threw down his hat, and held a coal-black, curly, +almost perpendicular, hindhead under the stream of water. But hardly +had he, turning upward, caught a glimpse of the profile of Albano, +absorbed in his fancies, when he started up, all dripping, stared at +the count, fell into an amazement, threw his arms high into the air, +and said, "_Amico_!" Albano looked at him. The stranger said, +"Albano!" "My Dian!" cried Albano; they clasped each other +passionately and wept for love. + +Dian could not comprehend it at all; he said in Italian: "But it +surely cannot be you; you look old." He thought he was speaking German +all the time, till he heard Albano answer in Italian. Both gave and +received only questions. Albano found the architect merely browner, +but there was the lightning of the eyes and every faculty in its old +glory. With three words he related to him the journey, and who the +company were. "How does Rome strike you?" asked Dian, pleasantly. "As +life does," replied Albano, very seriously, "it makes me too soft and +too hard." "I recognize here absolutely nothing at all," he continued; +"do those columns belong to the magnificent temple of Peace?" "No," +said Dian, "to the temple of Concord; of the other there stands yonder +nothing but the vault." "Where is Saturn's temple?" asked Albano. +"Buried in St. Adrian's church," said Dian, and added hastily: "Close +by stand the ten columns of Antonine's temple; over beyond there the +baths of Titus; behind us the Palatine hill; and so on. Now tell +me--!" + +They walked up and down the Forum, between the arches of Titus and +Severus. Albano (being near the teacher who, in the days of childhood, +had so often conducted him hitherward) was yet full of the stream +which had swept over the world, and the all-covering water sunk but +slowly. He went on and said: "Today, when he beheld the Obelisk, the +soft, tender brightness of the moon had seemed to him eminently +unbecoming for the giant city; he would rather have seen a sun blazing +on its broad banner; but now the moon was the proper funeral-torch +beside the dead Alexander, who, at a touch, collapses into a handful +of dust." "The artist does not get far with feelings of this kind," +said Dian, "he must look upon everlasting beauties on the right hand +and on the left." "Where," Albano went on asking, "is the old lake of +Curtius--the Rostrum--the pila Horatia--the temple of Vesta--of Venus, +and of all those solitary columns?" "And where is the marble Forum +itself?" said Dian; "it lies thirty span deep below our feet." "Where +is the great, free people, the senate of kings, the voice of the +orators, the procession to the Capitol? Buried under the mountain of +potsherds! O Dian, how can a man who loses a father, a beloved, in +Rome shed a single tear or look round him with consternation, when he +comes out here before this battle-field of time and looks into the +charnel-house of the nations? Dian, one would wish here an iron heart, +for fate has an iron hand!" + +Dian, who nowhere stayed more reluctantly than upon such tragic cliffs +hanging over, as it were, into the sea of eternity, almost leaped off +from them with a joke; like the Greeks, he blended dances with +tragedy! "Many a thing is preserved here, friend!" said he; "in +Adrian's church yonder they will still show you the bones of the three +men that walked in the fire." "That is just the frightful play of +destiny," replied Albano, "to occupy the heights of the mighty +ancients with monks shorn down into slaves." + +"The stream of time drives new wheels," said Dian "yonder lies Raphael +twice buried.[5]" * * * And so they climbed silently and speedily over +rubbish and torsos of columns, and neither gave heed to the mighty +emotion of the other. + +Rome, like the Creation, is an entire wonder, which gradually +dismembers itself into new wonders, the Coliseum, the Pantheon, St. +Peter's church, Raphael, etc. + +With the passage through the church of St. Peter, the knight began the +noble course through Immortality. The Princess let herself, by the tie +of Art, be bound to the circle of the men. As Albano was more smitten +with edifices than with any other work of man, so did he see from +afar, with holy heart, the long mountain-chain of Art, which again +bore upon itself hills, so did he stop before the plain, around which +the enormous colonnades run like Corsos, bearing a people of statues. +In the centre shoots up the Obelisk, and on its right and left an +eternal fountain, and from the lofty steps the proud Church of the +world, inwardly filled with churches, rearing upon itself a temple +toward Heaven, looks down upon the earth. But how wonderfully, as they +drew near, had its columns and its rocky wall mounted up and flown +away from the vision! + +He entered the magic church, which gave the world blessings, curses, +kings and popes, with the consciousness, that, like the world-edifice, +it was continually enlarging and receding more and more the longer one +remained in it. They went up to two children of white marble who held +an incense-muscle-shell of yellow marble; the children grew by +nearness till they were giants. At length they stood at the main +altar and its hundred perpetual lamps. What a place! Above them the +heaven's arch of the dome, resting on four inner towers; around them +an over-arched city of four streets in which stood churches. The +temple became greatest by walking in it; and, when they passed round +one column, there stood a new one before them, and holy giants gazed +earnestly down. + +Here was the youth's large heart, after so long a time, filled. "In no +art," said he to his father, "is the soul so mightily possessed with +the sublime as in architecture; in every other the giant stands within +and in the depths of the soul, but here he stands out of and close +before it." Dian, to whom all images were more clear than abstract +ideas, said he was perfectly right. Fraischdoerfer replied, "The +sublime also here lies only in the brain, for the whole church stands, +after all, in something greater, namely, in Rome, and under the +heavens; in the presence of which latter we certainly should not feel +anything." He also complained that "the place for the sublime in his +head was very much narrowed by the innumerable volutes and monuments +which the temple shut up therein at the same time with itself." +Gaspard, taking everything in a large sense, remarked, "When the +sublime once really appears, it then, by its very nature, absorbs and +annihilates all little circumstantial ornaments." He adduced as +evidence the tower of the Minster,[6] and Nature itself, which is not +made smaller by its grasses and villages. + +Among so many connoisseurs of art, the Princess enjoyed in silence. + +The ascent of the dome Gaspard recommended to defer to a dry and +cloudless day, in order that they might behold the queen of the world, +Rome, upon and from the proper throne; he therefore proposed, very +zealously, the visiting of the Pantheon, because he was eager to let +this follow immediately after the impression of Saint Peter's church. +They went thither. How simply and grandly the hall opens! Eight +yellow columns sustain its brow, and majestically as the head of the +Homeric Jupiter its temple arches itself. It is the Rotunda or +Pantheon. "O the pigmies," cried Albano, "who would fain give us new +temples! Raise the old ones higher out of the rubbish, and then you +have built enough!" [7] They stepped in. There rose round about them a +holy, simple, free world-structure, with its heaven-arches soaring and +striving upward, an Odeum of the tones of the Sphere-music, a world in +the world! And overhead[8] the eye-socket of the light and of the sky +gleamed down, and the distant rack of clouds seemed to touch the lofty +arch over which it shot along! And round about them stood nothing but +the temple-bearers, the columns! The temple of _all_ gods endured and +concealed the diminutive altars of the later ones. + +Gaspard questioned Albano about his impressions. He said he preferred +the larger church of Saint Peter. The knight approved, and said that +youth, like nations, always more easily found and better appreciated +the sublime than the beautiful, and that the spirit of the young man +ripened from strong to beautiful, as the body of the same ripens from +the beautiful into the strong; however, he himself preferred the +Pantheon. "How could the moderns," said the Counsellor of Arts, +Fraischdoerfer, "build anything, except some little Bernini-like +turrets?" "That is why," said the offended Provincial Architect, Dian +(who despised the Counsellor of Arts, because he never made a good +figure except in the esthetic hall of judgment as critic, never in the +exhibition-hall as painter), "we moderns are, without contradiction, +stronger in criticism; though in practice we are, collectively and +individually, blockheads." Bouverot remarked that the Corinthian +columns might be higher. The Counsellor of Arts said that after all he +knew nothing more like this fine hemisphere than a much smaller one, +which he had found in Herculaneum molded in ashes, of the bosom of a +fair fugitive. The knight laughed, and Albano turned away in disgust +and went to the Princess. + +He asked her for her opinion about the two temples. "Sophocles here, +Shakespeare there; but I comprehend and appreciate Sophocles more +easily," she replied, and looked with new eyes into his new +countenance. For the supernatural illumination through the zenith of +Heaven, not through a hazy horizon, transfigured, in her eyes, the +beautiful and excited countenance of the youth; and she took for +granted that the saintly halo of the dome must also exalt her form. +When he answered her: "Very good! But in Shakespeare, Sophocles also +is contained, not, however, Shakespeare in Sophocles--and upon Peter's +Church stands Angelo's Rotunda!", just then the lofty cloud, all at +once, as by the blow of a hand out of the ether, broke in two, and the +ravished Sun, like the eye of a Venus floating through her ancient +heavens--for she once stood even here--looked mildly in from the upper +deep; then a holy radiance filled the temple, and burned on the +porphyry of the pavement, and Albano looked around him in an ecstasy +of wonder and delight, and said with low voice: "How transfigured at +this moment is everything in this sacred place! Raphael's spirit comes +forth from his grave in this noontide hour, and everything which its +reflection touches brightens into godlike splendor!" The Princess +looked upon him tenderly, and he lightly laid his hand upon hers, and +said, as one vanquished, "Sophocles!" + +On the next moonlit evening, Gaspard bespoke torches, in order that +the Coliseum, with its giant-circle, might the first time stand in +fire before them. The knight would fain have gone around alone with +his son, dimly through the dim work, like two spirits of the olden +time, but the Princess forced herself upon him, from a too lively wish +to share with the noble youth his great moments, and perhaps, in fact, +her heart and his own. Women do not sufficiently comprehend that an +idea, when it fills and elevates man's mind, shuts it, then, against +love, and crowds out persons; whereas with woman all ideas easily +become human beings. + +They passed over the Forum, by the _Via Sacra_, to the Coliseum, whose +lofty, cloven forehead looked down pale under the moonlight. They +stood before the gray rock-walls, which reared themselves on four +colonnades one above another, and the torchlight shot up into the +arches of the arcades, gilding the green shrubbery high overhead, and +deep in the earth had the noble monster already buried his feet. They +stepped in and ascended the mountain, full of fragments of rock, from +one seat of the spectators to another. Gaspard did not venture to the +sixth or highest, where the men used to stand, but Albano and the +Princess did. Then the youth gazed down over the cliffs, upon the +round, green crater of the burnt-out volcano, which once swallowed +nine thousand beasts at once, and which quenched itself with human +blood. The lurid glare of the torches penetrated into the clefts and +caverns, and among the foliage of the ivy and laurel, and among the +great shadows of the moon, which, like departed spirits, hovered in +caverns. Toward the south, where the streams of centuries and +barbarians had stormed in, stood single columns and bare arcades. +Temples and three palaces had the giant fed and lined with his limbs, +and still, with all his wounds, he looked out livingly into the world. + +"What a people!" said Albano. "Here curled the giant snake five times +about Christianity. Like a smile of scorn lies the moonlight down +below there upon the green arena, where once stood the Colossus of the +Sun-god. The star of the north[9] glimmers low through the windows, +and the Serpent and the Bear crouch. What a world has gone by!" The +Princess answered that "twelve thousand prisoners built this theatre, +and that a great many more had bled therein." "O! we too have +building prisoners," said he, "but for fortifications; and blood, too, +still flows, but with sweat! No, we have no present; the past, without +it, must bring forth a future." + +The Princess went to break a laurel-twig and pluck a blooming +wall-flower. Albano sank away into musing: the autumnal wind of the +past swept over the stubble. On this holy eminence he saw the +constellations, Rome's green hills, the glimmering city, the Pyramid +of Cestius; but all became Past, and on the twelve hills dwelt, as +upon graves, the lofty old spirits, and looked sternly into the age, +as if they were still its kings and judges. + +"This to remember the place and time!" said the approaching Princess, +handing him the laurel and the flower. "Thou mighty One! a Coliseum is +thy flower-pot; to thee is nothing too great, and nothing too small!" +said he, and threw the Princess into considerable confusion, till she +observed that he meant not her, but nature. His whole being seemed +newly and painfully moved, and, as it were, removed to a distance: he +looked down after his father, and went to find him; he looked at him +sharply, and spoke of nothing more this evening. + + + + +THE OPENING OF THE WILL + +From the _Flegeljahre_ (1804) + +By JEAN PAUL + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. KING + +Since Haslau had been a princely residence no one could remember any +event--the birth of the heir apparent excepted--that had been awaited +with such curiosity as the opening of the Van der Kabel will. Van der +Kabel might have been called the Haslau Croesus--and his life +described as a pleasure-making mint, or a washing of gold sand under a +golden rain, or in whatever other terms wit could devise. Now, seven +distant living relatives of seven distant deceased relatives of Kabel +were cherishing some hope of a legacy, because the Croesus had sworn +to remember them. These hopes, however, were very faint. No one was +especially inclined to trust him, as he not only conducted himself on +all occasions in a gruffly moral and unselfish manner--in regard to +morality, to be sure, the seven relatives were still beginners--but +likewise treated everything so derisively and possessed a heart so +full of tricks and surprises that there was no dependence to be placed +upon him. The eternal smile hovering around his temples and thick +lips, and the mocking falsetto voice, impaired the good impression +that might otherwise have been made by his nobly cut face and a pair +of large hands, from which New Year's presents, benefit performances, +and gratuities were continually falling. Wherefore the birds of +passage proclaimed the man, this human mountain-ash in which they +nested and of whose berries they ate, to be in reality a dangerous +trap; and they seemed hardly able to see the visible berries for the +invisible snares. + +Between two attacks of apoplexy he made his will and deposited it with +the magistrate. Though half dead when, he gave over the certificate +to the seven presumptive heirs he said in his old tone of voice that +he did not wish this token of his decease to cause dejection to mature +men whom he would much rather think of as laughing than as weeping +heirs. And only one of them, the coldly ironical Police-Inspector +Harprecht, answered the smilingly ironical Croesus: "It was not in +their power to determine the extent of their collective sympathy in +such a loss." + +At last the seven heirs appeared with their certificate at the city +hall. These were the Consistorial Councilor Glanz, the Police +Inspector, the Court-Agent Neupeter, the Attorney of the Royal +Treasury Knol, the Bookseller Passvogel, the Preacher-at-Early-Service +Flachs, and Herr Flitte from Alsace. They duly and properly requested +of the magistrates the charter consigned to the latter by the late +Kabel, and asked for the opening of the will. The chief executor of +the will was the officiating Burgomaster in person, the +under-executors were the Municipal-Councilors. Presently the charter +and the will were fetched from the Council-chamber into the +Burgomaster's office, they were passed around to all the Councilors +and the heirs, in order that they might see the privy seal of the city +upon them, and the registry of the consignment written by the town +clerk upon the charter was read aloud to the seven heirs. Thereby it +was made known to them that the charter had really been consigned to +the magistrates by the late departed one and confided to them _scrinio +rei publicae_, likewise that he had been in his right mind on the day +of the consignment. The seven seals which he himself had placed upon +it were found to be intact. Then--after the Town-Clerk had again drawn +up a short record of all this--the will was opened in God's name and +read aloud by the officiating Burgomaster. It ran as follows: + +"I, Van der Kabel, do draw up my will on this seventh day of May 179-, +here in my house in Haslau, in Dog Street, without a great ado of +words, although I have been both a German notary and a Dutch _domine_. +Notwithstanding, I believe that I am still sufficiently familiar with +the notary's art to be able to act as a regular testator and +bequeather of property. + +"Testators are supposed to commence by setting forth the motives which +have caused them to make their will. These with me, as with most, are +my approaching death, and the disposal of an inheritance which is +desired by many. To talk about the funeral and such matters is too +weak and silly. That which remains of me, however, may the eternal sun +above us make use of for one of his verdant springs, not for a gloomy +winter! + +"The charitable bequests, about which notaries must always inquire, I +shall attend to by setting aside for three thousand of the city's +paupers an equal number of florins so that in the years to come, on +the anniversary of my death, if the annual review of the troops does +not happen to take place on the common that day, they can pitch their +camp there and have a merry feast off the money, and afterward clothe +themselves with the tent linen. To all the schoolmasters of our +Principality also I bequeath to every man one august d'or, and I leave +my pew in the Court church to the Jews of the city. My will being +divided into clauses, this may be taken as the first. + +"SECOND CLAUSE + +It is the general custom for legacies and disinheritances to be +counted among the most essential parts of the will. In accordance with +this custom Consistorial Councillor Glanz, Attorney of the Royal +Treasury Knol, Court-Agent Peter Neupeter, Police-Inspector Harprecht, +the Preacher-at-Early-Service Flachs, the Court-bookseller Passvogel +and Herr Flitte, for the time being receive nothing; not so much +because no _Trebellianica_ is due them as the most distant relatives, +or because most of them have themselves enough to bequeath, as because +I know out of their own mouths that they love my insignificant person +better than my great wealth, which person I therefore leave them, +little as can be got out of it." + +Seven preternaturally long faces at this point started up like the +Seven-sleepers. The Consistorial Councillor, a man still young but +celebrated throughout all Germany for his oral and printed sermons, +considered himself the one most insulted by such taunts. From the +Alsatian Flitte there escaped an oath accompanied by a slight smack of +the tongue. The chin of Flachs, the Preacher-at-Early-Service, grew +downward into a regular beard. + +The City Councillors could hear several softly ejaculated obituaries +referring to the late Kabel under the name of scamp, fool, infidel, +etc. But the officiating Burgomaster waved his hand, the Attorney of +the Royal Treasury and the Bookseller again bent all the elastic steel +springs of their faces as if setting a trap, and the Burgomaster +continued to read, although with enforced seriousness. + +"THIRD CLAUSE + +I make an exception of the present house in Dog Street which, after +this my third clause, shall, just as it stands, devolve upon and +belong to that one of my seven above-named relatives, who first, +before the other six rivals, can in one half hour's time (to be +reckoned from the reading of the Clause) shed one or two tears over +me, his departed uncle, in the presence of an estimable magistrate who +shall record the same. If, however, all eyes remain dry, then the +house likewise shall fall to the exclusive heir whom I am about to +name." + +Here the Burgomaster closed the will, remarked that the condition was +certainly unusual but not illegal, and the court must adjudge the +house to the first one who wept. With which he placed his watch, which +pointed to half-past eleven, on the office-table, and sat himself +quietly down in order in his capacity of executor to observe, together +with the whole court, who should first shed the desired tear over the +testator. It cannot fairly be assumed that, as long as the earth has +stood, a more woe-begone and muddled congress ever met upon it than +this one composed of seven dry provinces assembled together, as it +were, in order to weep. At first some precious minutes were spent +merely in confused wondering and in smiling; the congress had been +placed too suddenly in the situation of the dog who, when about to +rush angrily at his enemy, heard the latter call out: Beg!--and who +suddenly got upon his hind legs and begged, showing his teeth. From +cursing they had been pulled up too quickly into weeping. + +Every one realized that genuine emotion was not to be thought of; +downpours do not come quite so much on the gallop; such sudden baptism +of the eyes was out of the question; but in twenty-six minutes +something might happen. + +The merchant Neupeter asked if it were not an accursed business and a +foolish joke on the part of a sensible man, and he refused to lend +himself to it; but the thought that a house might swim into his purse +on a tear caused him a peculiar irritation of the glands, which made +him look like a sick lark to whom a clyster is being applied with an +oiled pinhead--the house being the head. + +The Attorney of the Royal Treasury Knol screwed up his face like a +poor workman, whom an apprentice is shaving and scraping on a Saturday +evening by the light of a shoemaker's candle; he was furiously angry +at the misuse made of the title "Will" and quite near to shedding +tears of rage. + +The crafty Bookseller Passvogel at once quietly set about the matter +in hand; he hastily went over in his mind all the touching things +which he was publishing at his own expense or on commission, and from +which he hoped to brew something; he looked the while like a dog that +is slowly licking off the emetic which the Parisian veterinary, Demet, +had smeared on his nose; it would evidently be some time before the +desired effect would take place. + +Flitte from Alsace danced around in the Burgomaster's office, looked +laughingly at all the serious faces and swore he was not the richest +among them, but not for all Strasburg and Alsace besides was he +capable of weeping over such a joke. + +At last the Police-Inspector looked very significantly at him and +declared: In case Monsieur hoped by means of laughter to squeeze the +desired drops out of the well-known glands and out of the Meibomian, +the caruncle, and others, and thus thievishly to cover himself with +this window-pane moisture, he wished to remind him that he could gain +just as little by it as if he should blow his nose and try to profit +by that, as in the latter case it was well known that more tears +flowed from the eyes through the _ductus nasalis_ than were shed in +any church-pew during a funeral sermon. But the Alsatian assured him +he was only laughing in fun and not with serious intentions. + +The Inspector for his part tried to drive something appropriate into +his eyes by holding them wide open and staring fixedly. + +The Preacher-at-Early-Service Flachs looked like a Jew beggar riding a +runaway horse. Meanwhile his heart, which was already overcast with +the most promising sultry clouds caused by domestic and +church-troubles, could have immediately drawn up the necessary water, +as easily as the sun before bad weather, if only the floating-house +navigating toward him had not always come between as a much too +cheerful spectacle, and acted as a dam. + +The Consistorial Councillor had learned to know his own nature from +New Year's and funeral sermons, and was positive that he himself would +be the first to be moved if only he started to make a moving address +to others. When therefore he saw himself and the others hanging so +long on the drying-line, he stood up and said with dignity: Every one +who had read his printed works knew for a certainty that he carried a +heart in his breast, which needed to repress such holy tokens as tears +are--so as not thereby to deprive any fellowman of something--rather +than laboriously to draw them to the surface with an ulterior motive. +"This heart has already shed them, but in secret, for Kabel was my +friend," he said, and looked around. + +He noticed with pleasure that all were sitting there as dry as wooden +corks; at this special moment crocodiles, stags, elephants, witches, +ravens[10] could have wept more easily than the heirs, so disturbed +and enraged were they by Glanz. Flachs was the only one who had a +secret inspiration. He hastily summoned to his mind Kabel's charities +and the mean clothes and gray hair of the women who formed his +congregation at the early-service, Lazarus with his dogs, and his own +long coffin, and also the beheading of various people, Werther's +Sorrows, a small battlefield, and himself--how pitifully here in the +days of his youth he was struggling and tormenting himself over the +clause of the will--just three more jerks of the pump-handle and he +would have his water and the house. + +"O Kabel, my Kabel!" continued Glanz, almost weeping for joy at the +prospect of the approaching tears of sorrow. "When once beside your +loving heart covered with earth my heart too shall mol--" + +"I believe, honored gentlemen," said Flachs mournfully, arising and +looking around, his eyes brimming over, "I am weeping." After which he +sat down again and let them flow more cheerfully; he had feathered his +nest. Under the eyes of the other heirs he had snatched away the +prize-house from Glanz, who now extremely regretted his exertions, +since he had quite uselessly talked away half of his appetite. The +emotion of Flachs was placed on record and the house in Dog Street was +adjudged to him for good and all. The Burgomaster was heartily glad to +see the poor devil get it. It was the first time in the principality +of Haslau that the tears of a school-master and teacher-of-the-church +had been metamorphosed, not like those of the Heliades into light +amber, which incased an insect, but like those of the goddess Freya, +into gold. Glanz congratulated Flachs, and gayly drew his attention to +the fact that perhaps he, Glanz, had helped to move him. The rest drew +aside, by their separation accentuating their position on the dry road +from that of Flachs on the wet; all, however, remained intent upon the +rest of the will. + +Then the reading of it was continued. + + + + +_WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT_ + + * * * * * + +SCHILLER AND THE PROCESS OF HIS INTELLECTUAL DEVELOPMENT + +From the _Introduction to the Correspondence of Schiller and +W. von Humboldt_ (1830) + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. KING + +Schiller's poetic genius showed itself in his very first productions. +In spite of all their defects in form, in spite of many things which +to the mature artist seemed absolutely crude, _The Robbers_ and +_Fiesko_ gave evidence of remarkable inherent power. His genius +later betrayed itself in the longing for poetry, as for the native +atmosphere of his spirit, which longing constantly breaks out in his +varied philosophical and historical labors and is often hinted at in +his letters to me. It finally revealed itself in virile power and +refined purity in those dramas which will long remain the pride and +the renown of the German stage. + +This poetic genius, however, is most closely wedded, in all its height +and depth, to thought; it manifests itself, in fact, in an +intellectuality which by analysis would separate everything into its +parts, and then by combination would unite all in one complete whole. +In this lies Schiller's peculiar individuality. He demanded of poetry +more profundity of thought and forced it to submit to a more rigid +intellectual unity than it had ever had before. This he did in a +two-fold manner--by binding it into a more strictly artistic form, and +by treating every poem in such a way that its subject-matter readily +broadened its individuality until it expressed a complete idea. + +It is upon these peculiarities that the excellence which characterizes +Schiller as a writer rests. It is because of them that, in order to +bring out the greatest and best of which he was capable, he needed a +certain amount of time before his completely developed individuality, +to which his poetic genius was indissolubly united, could reach that +point of clearness and definiteness of expression which he demanded of +himself. * * * + +On the other hand, it would probably be agreeable to the reader of +this correspondence if I should attempt briefly to show how my opinion +of Schiller's individuality was formed by intercourse with him, by +reminiscences of his conversation, by the comparison of his +productions in their successive sequence, and by a study of the +development of his intellect. + +What must necessarily have impressed every student of Schiller as most +characteristic was the fact that thinking was the very substance of +his life, in a higher and more significant sense than perhaps has ever +been the case with any other person. His intellect was alive with +spontaneous and almost tireless activity, which ceased only when the +attacks of his physical infirmity became overpowering. Such activity +seemed to him a recreation rather than an effort, and was manifested +most conspicuously in conversation, for which Schiller appeared to +have a natural aptitude. + +He never sought for deep subjects of conversation, but seemed rather +to leave the introduction of a subject to chance; but from each topic +he led the discourse up to a general point of view, and after a short +dialogue one found oneself in the very midst of a mentally stimulating +discussion. He always treated the central idea as an end to be +attained in common; he always seemed to need the help of the person +with whom he was conversing, for, although the latter always felt that +the idea was supplied by Schiller alone, Schiller never allowed him to +remain inactive. + +This was the chief difference between Schiller's and Herder's mode of +conversing. Never, perhaps, has there been a man who talked with +greater charm than Herder, if one happened to catch him in an +agreeable mood--not a difficult matter when any kind of note was +struck with which he was in harmony. + +[Illustration: #WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT# FRANZ KRUeGER] + +All the extraordinary qualities of this justly admired man seemed to +gain double power in conversation, for which they were so peculiarly +adapted. The thought blossomed forth in expression with a grace and +dignity which appeared to proceed from the subject alone, although +really belonging only to the individual. Thus speech flowed on +uninterruptedly with a limpidness which still left something remaining +for one's own imagination, and yet with a _chiaroscuro_ which did not +prevent one from definitely grasping the thought. As soon as one +subject was exhausted a new one was taken up. Nothing was gained by +making objections which would only have served as a hindrance. One had +listened, one could even talk oneself, but one felt the lack of an +interchange of thought. + +Schiller's speech was not really beautiful, but his mind constantly +strove, with acumen and precision, to make new intellectual conquests; +he held this effort under control, however, and soared above his +subject in perfect liberty. Hence, with a light and delicate touch he +utilized any side-issue which presented itself, and this was the +reason why his conversation was peculiarly rich in words that are so +evidently the inspiration of the moment; yet, in spite of such seeming +freedom in the treatment of the subject, the final end was not lost +sight of. Schiller always held with firmness the thread which was +bound to lead thither, and, if the conversation was not interrupted by +any mishap, he was not prone to bring it to a close until he had +reached the goal. + +And as Schiller in his conversation always aimed to add new ground to +the domain of thought, so, in general, it may be said that his +intellectual activity was always characterized by an intense +spontaneity. His letters demonstrate these traits very perceptibly, +and he knew absolutely no other method of working. + +He gave himself up to mere reading late in the evening only, and +during his frequently sleepless nights. His days were occupied with +various labors or with specific preparatory studies in connection +with them, his intellect being thus kept at high tension by work and +research. + +Mere studying undertaken with no immediate end in view save that of +acquiring knowledge, and which has such a fascination for those who +are familiar with it that they must be constantly on their guard lest +it cause them to neglect other more definite duties--such studying, I +say, he knew nothing about from experience, nor did he esteem it at +its proper value. Knowledge seemed to him too material, and the forces +of the intellect too noble, for him to see in this material anything +more than mere stuff to be worked up. It was only because he placed +more value upon the higher activity of the intellect, which creates +independently out of its own depths, that he had so little sympathy +with its efforts of a lower order. It is indeed remarkable from what a +small stock of material and how, in spite of wanting the means by +which such material is procured by others, Schiller obtained his +comprehensive theory of life (_Weltanschauung_), which, when once +grasped, fairly startles us by the intuitive truthfulness of genius; +for one can give no other name to that which originates without +outside aid. + +Even in Germany he had traveled only in certain districts, while +Switzerland, of which his _William Tell_ contains such vivid +descriptions, he had never seen. Any one who has ever stood by the +Falls of the Rhine will involuntarily recall, at the sight, the +beautiful strophe in _The Diver_ in which this confusing tumult of +waters, that so captivates the eye, is depicted; and yet no personal +view of these rapids had served as the basis for Schiller's +description. + +But whatever Schiller did acquire from his own experience he grasped +with a clearness which also brought distinctly before him what he +learned from the description of others. Besides, he never neglected to +prepare himself for every subject by exhaustive reading. Anything that +might prove to be of use, even if discovered accidentally, fixed +itself firmly in his memory; and his tirelessly-working imagination, +which, with constant liveliness, elaborated now this now that part of +the material collected from every source, filled out the deficiencies +of such second-hand information. + +In a manner quite similar he made the spirit of Greek poetry his own, +although his knowledge of it was gained exclusively from translations. +In this connection he spared himself no pains. He preferred +translations which disclaimed any particular merit in themselves, and +his highest consideration was for the literal classical paraphrases. + +* * * _The Cranes of Ibycus_ and the _Festival of Victory_ wear the +colors of antiquity with all the purity and fidelity which could be +expected from a modern poet, and they wear them in the most beautiful +and most spirited manner. The poet, in these works, has quite absorbed +the spirit of the ancient world; he moves about in it with freedom, +and thus creates a new form of poetry which, in all its parts, +breathes only such a spirit. The two poems, however, are in striking +contrast with each other. _The Cranes of Ibycus_ permitted a +thoroughly epic development; what made the subject of intrinsic value +to the poet was the idea which sprung from it of the power of artistic +representation upon the human soul. This power of poetry, of an +invisible force created purely by the intellect and vanishing away +when brought into contact with reality, belonged essentially to the +sphere of ideas which occupied Schiller so intensely. + +As many as eight years before the time when this subject assumed the +ballad form within his mind it had floated before his vision, as is +evident in the lines which are taken from his poem _The Artists_-- + + "Awed by the Furies' chorus dread + Murder draws down upon its head + The doom of death from their wild song." + +This idea, moreover, permitted an exposition in complete harmony with +the spirit of antiquity; the latter had all the requisites for +bringing it into bold relief in all its purity and strength. +Consequently, every particular in the whole narrative is borrowed +immediately from the ancient world, especially the appearance and the +song of Eumenides. The chorus as employed by AEschylus is so +artistically interwoven with the modern poetic form, both in the +matter of rhyme and the length of the metre, that no portion of its +quiet grandeur is lost. + +_The Festival of Victory_ is of a lyric, of a contemplative nature. In +this work the poet was able--indeed was compelled--to lend from his +own store an element which did not lie within the sphere of ideas and +the sentiments of antiquity; but everything else follows the spirit of +the Homeric poem with as great purity as it does in the _Cranes of +Ibycus_. The poem as a whole is clearly stamped with a higher, more +distinct, spirituality than is usual with the ancient singers; and it +is in this particular that it manifests its most conspicuous beauties. + +The earlier poems of Schiller are also rich in particular traits +borrowed from the poems of the ancients, and into them he has often +introduced a higher significance than is found in the original. Let me +refer in this connection to his description of death from _The +Artists_--"The gentle bow of necessity"--which so beautifully recalls +the _gentle darts_ of Homer, where, however, the transfer of the +adjective from _darts_ to _bow_ gives to the thought a more tender and +a deeper significance. + +Confidence in the intellectual power of man heightened to poetic form +is expressed in the distichs entitled _Columbus_, which are among the +most peculiar poetic productions that Schiller has given us. Belief in +the invisible force inherent in man, in the opinion, which is sublime +and deeply true, that there must be an inward mystic harmony between +it and the force which orders and governs the entire universe (for all +truth can only be a reflection of the eternal primal Truth), was a +characteristic feature of Schiller's way of thinking. It harmonized +also with the persistence with which he followed up every intellectual +task until it was satisfactorily completed. We see the same thought +expressed in the same kind of metaphor in the bold but beautiful +expression which occurs in the letters from Raphael to Julius in the +magazine, _The Thalia_-- + +"When Columbus made the risky wager with an untraveled sea." * * * + +[Illustration: #UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN# With the statues of Wilhelm and +Alexander von Humboldt] + +Art and poetry were directly joined to what was most noble in man; +they were represented to be the medium by means of which he first +awakens to the consciousness of that nature, reaching out beyond the +finite, which dwells within him. Both of them were thus placed upon +the height from which they really originate. To safeguard them upon +this height, to save them from being desecrated by every paltry and +belittling view, to rescue them from every sentiment which did not +spring from their purity, was really Schiller's aim, and appeared to +him as his true life-mission determined for him by the original +tendency of his nature. + +His first and most urgent demands are, therefore, addressed to the +poet himself, from whom he requires not merely genius and talent +isolated, as it were, in their activity, but a mood which takes +possession of the entire soul and is in harmony with the sublimity of +his vocation; it must be not a mere momentary exaltation, but an +integral part of character. "Before he undertakes to influence the +best among his contemporaries he should make it his first and most +important business to elevate his own self to the purest and noblest +ideal of humanity." * * * To no one does Schiller apply this demand +more rigorously than to himself. + +Of him it can truthfully be said that matters which bordered upon the +common or even upon the ordinary, never had the slightest hold upon +him; that he transferred completely the high and noble views which +filled his thoughts to his mode of feeling and his life; and that in +his compositions he was ever, with uniform force, inspired with a +striving for the ideal. This was true even of his minor productions. + +To assign to poetry, among human endeavors, the lofty and serious +place of which I have spoken above, to defend it from the petty point +of view of those who, mistaking its dignity, and the pedantic attitude +of those who, mistaking its peculiar character, regard it only as a +trifling adornment and embellishment of life or else ask an immediate +moral effect and teaching from it--this, as one cannot repeat too +often, is deeply rooted in the German habit of thought and feeling. +Schiller in his poetry gave utterance--in his own individual manner, +however--to whatever his German nature had implanted in him, to the +harmony which rang out to him from the depths of the language, the +mysterious effect of which he so cleverly perceived and knew how to +use so masterfully. * * * + +The deeper and truer trend of the German resides in his highly +developed sensibility which keeps him closer to the truths of nature, +in his inclination to live in the world of ideas and of emotions +dependent upon them, and, in fact, in everything which is connected +therewith. * * * + +A favorite idea which often engaged Schiller's attention was the need +of educating the crude natural man--as he understood him--through art, +before he could be left to attain culture through reason. Schiller has +enlarged upon this theme on many occasions, both in prose and verse. +His imagination dwelt by preference upon the beginnings of +civilization in general, upon the transition from the nomadic life to +the agricultural, upon the covenant established in naive faith with +pious Mother Earth, as he so beautifully expresses it. + +Whatever mythology offered here as kindred material, he grasped with +eagerness and firmness. Faithfully following the traces of fable, he +made of Demeter, the chief personage in the group of agricultural +deities, a figure as wonderful as it was appealing, by uniting in her +breast human feelings with divine. It was long a cherished plan with +Schiller to treat in epic form the earliest Attic civilization +resulting from foreign immigration. _The Eleusinian Festival_, +however, replaced this plan, which was never executed. * * * + +The merely emotional, the fervid, the simply descriptive, in fact +every variety of poetry derived directly from contemplation and +feeling, are found in Schiller in countless single passages and in +whole poems. * * * But the most remarkable evidence of the consummate +genius of the poet is seen in _The Song of the Bell_, which, in +changing metre, in descriptions full of vivacity where a few touches +represent a whole picture, runs through the varied experiences in the +life of man and of society; for it expresses the feelings which arise +in each of them, and ever adapts the whole, symbolically, to the tones +of the bell, the casting and completing of which the poem accompanies +throughout in all its various stages. I know of no poem, in any +language, which shows so wide a poetic world in so small a compass, +that so runs through the scale of all that is deepest in human +feelings, and, in the guise of a lyric, depicts life in its important +events and epochs as if in an epic poem confined within natural +limits. But the poetic clearness is enhanced by the fact that a +subject which is portrayed as actually existing, corresponds with the +shadowy visions of the imagination; and the two series thus formed run +parallel with each other to the same end. * * * + +Schiller was snatched from the world in the full maturity of his +intellectual power, though he would undoubtedly have been able to +perform an endless amount of additional work. His scope was so +unlimited that he would never have been able to find a goal, and the +constantly increasing activity of his mind would never have allowed +him time for stopping. For long years ahead he would have been able to +enjoy the happiness, the rapture, yes, the bliss of his occupation as +a poet, as he so inimitably describes it in one of the letters in this +collection, written about a plan for an idyl. His life ended indeed +before the customary limit had been reached, yet, while it lasted, he +worked exclusively and uninterruptedly in the realm of ideas and +fancy. + +Of no one else, perhaps, can it be said so truthfully that "he had +thrown away the fear of that which was earthly and had escaped out of +the narrow gloomy life into the realm of the ideal." And it may be +observed, in closing, that he had lived surrounded only by the most +exalted ideas and the most brilliant visions which it is possible for +a mortal to appropriate and to create. One who thus departs from earth +cannot be regarded as otherwise than happy. + + + + +THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL + +By JAMES TAFT HATFIELD, PH.D. + +Professor of the German Language and Literature, Northwestern +University. + +The latter half of the eighteenth century has been styled the Age of +Enlightenment, a convenient name for a period in which there was a +noticeable attempt to face the obvious, external facts of life in a +clear-eyed and courageous way. The centralizing of political power in +the hands of Louis XIV. of France and his successors had been +accompanied by a "standardizing" of human affairs which favored +practical efficiency and the easier running of the social machine, but +which was far from helpful to the self-expression of distinctly-marked +individuals. + +The French became sovereign arbiters of taste and form, but their +canons of art were far from nature and the free impulses of mankind. +The particular development of this spirit of clarity in Berlin, the +centre of German influence, lay in the tendency to challenge all +historic continuity, and to seek uniformity based upon practical +needs. + +Rousseau's revolutionary protests against inequality and +artificiality--particularly his startling treatise _On the Origin and +Foundations of Inequality among Men_ (1754)--and his fervent preaching +of the everlasting superiority of the heart to the head, constitute +the most important factor in a great revolt against regulated social +institutions, which led, at length, to the "Storm and Stress" movement +in Germany, that boisterous forerunner of Romanticism, yet so unlike +it that even Schlegel compared its most typical representatives to the +biblical herd of swine which stampeded--into oblivion. Herder, +proclaiming the vital connection between the soul of a whole nation +and its literature, and preaching a religion of the feelings rather +than a gospel of "enlightenment;" young Goethe, by his daring and +untrammeled Shakespearian play, _Goetz von Berlichingen_, and by his +open defiance, announced in _Werther_, of the authority of all +artistic rules and standards; and Buerger, asserting the right of the +common man to be the only arbiter of literary values, were, each in +his own way, upsetting the control of an artificial "classicism." +Immanuel Kant, whose deep and dynamic thinking led to a revolution +comparable to a cosmic upheaval in the geological world, compelled his +generation to discover a vast new moral system utterly disconcerting +to the shallow complacency of those who had no sense of higher values +than "practical efficiency." + +When, in 1794, Goethe and Schiller, now matured and fully seasoned by +a deep-going classical and philosophical discipline, joined their +splendid forces and devoted their highest powers to the building up of +a comprehensive esthetic philosophy, the era was fully come for new +constructive efforts on German soil. Incalculably potent was the +ferment liberated by Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_ (1795-1796)--its +attacking the problem of life from the emotional and esthetic side; +its defense of the "call" of the individual as outweighing the whole +social code; its assertion that genius outranks general laws, and +imagination every-day rules; its abundance of "poetic" figures taking +their part in the romance. + +The birth of the Romantic School can be pretty definitely set at about +1796; its cradle was in the quaint university town of Jena, at that +time the home of Schiller and his literary-esthetic enterprises, and +only a few miles away from Goethe in Weimar. Five names embody about +all that was most significant in the earlier movement: Fichte, the +brothers Friedrich and Wilhelm Schlegel, Tieck, and Novalis. + +The discussion of Fichte belonging to another division of this work, +it is enough to recall here that he was already professor of +philosophy at Jena when the Schlegel brothers made their home there +in 1796, and that it was while there that he published his _Doctrine +of Science_, the charter of independence of the Romantic School, +announcing the annihilation of physical values, proclaiming the soul +as above things perceived, the inner spirit as that alembic in which +all objects are produced. With almost insolent freshness Fichte +asserted a re-valuation of all values: what had been "enlightenment" +was now to be called shallowness; "ancient crudities" were to be +reverenced as deeper perceptions of truth; "fine literature" was to be +accounted a frivolous thing. Fichte made a stirring appeal to young +men, especially, as being alone able to perceive the meaning of +science and poetry. + +To take part in the contagion of these ideas, there settled in Jena in +1796 the two phenomenal Schlegel brothers. It is not easy or necessary +to separate, at this period, the activities of their agile minds. From +their early days, as sons in a most respectable Lutheran parsonage in +North Germany, both had shown enormous hunger for cultural +information, both had been voracious in exploiting the great libraries +within their reach. It is generally asserted that they were lacking in +essential virility and stamina; as to the brilliancy of their +acquisitions, their fineness of appreciation, and their wit, there can +be no question whatever. Madame de Stael called them "the fathers of +modern criticism," a title which has not been challenged by the best +authorities of our time. + +Friedrich von Schlegel (1772-1829), the younger of the two, is counted +to be the keener and more original mind. He had a restless and +unsettled youth, mostly spent in studies; after various +disappointments, he determined to make classical antiquity his +life-work; while mastering the body of ancient literature, he was +assimilating, with much the same sort of eagerness, the philosophical +systems of Kant and Fichte. His first notable publication was an +esthetic-philosophic essay, in the ample style of Schiller's later +discourses, _Concerning the Study of Greek Poetry_. He found in the +Greeks of the age of Sophocles the ideal of a fully developed +humanity, and exhibited throughout the discussion a remarkable mastery +of the whole field of classical literature. Just at this time he +removed to Jena to join his older brother, Wilhelm, who was connected +with Schiller's monthly _The Hours_ and his annual _Almanac of the +Muses_. By a strange condition of things Friedrich was actively +engaged at the moment in writing polemic reviews for the organs of +Reichardt, one of Schiller's most annoying rivals in literary +journalism; these reviews became at once noticeable for their depth +and vigorous originality, particularly that one which gave a new and +vital characterization of Lessing. In 1797 he moved to Berlin, where +he gathered a group about him, including Tieck, and in this way +established the external and visible body of the Romantic School, +which the brilliant intellectual atmosphere of the Berlin salons, with +their wealth of gifted and cultured women, did much to promote. In +1799 both he and Tieck joined the Romantic circle at Jena. + +In Berlin he published in 1798 the first volume of the _Athenaeum_, +that journal which in a unique way represents the pure Romantic ideal +at its actual fountain-head. It survived for three years, the last +volume appearing in 1800. Its aim was to "collect all rays of human +culture into one focus," and, more particularly, to confute the claim +of the party of "enlightenment" that the earlier ages of human +development were poor and unworthy of respect on the part of the +closing eighteenth century. A very large part of the journal was +written by the two brothers, Friedrich furnishing the most aggressive +contributions, more notably being responsible for the epigrammatic +_Fragments_, which became, in their, detached brevity and +irresponsibility, a very favorite model for the form of Romantic +doctrine. "I can talk daggers," he had said when younger, and he wrote +the greater part of these, though some were contributed by Wilhelm +Schlegel, by his admirable wife Caroline, by Schleiermacher, and +Novalis. The root of this form lies in French thinking and +expression--especially the short deliverances of Chamfort, the +epigrammatist of the French Revolution. These Orphic-apocalyptic +sentences are a sort of foundation for a new Romantic bible. They are +absolutely disconnected, they show a mixture and interpenetration of +different spheres of thought and observation, with an unexpected +deference to the appraisals of classic antiquity. Their range is +unlimited: philosophy and psychology, mathematics and esthetics, +philosophy and natural science, sociology and society, literature and +the theatre are all largely represented in their scope. + +Friedrich Schlegel's epigrammatic wit is the direct precursor of +Heine's clever conceits in prose: one is instantly reminded of him by +such _Athenaeum_-fragments as "Kant, the Copernicus of Philosophy;" +"Plato's philosophy is a worthy preface to the religion of the +future;" "So-called 'happy marriages' are related to love, as a +correct poem to an improvised song;" "In genuine prose all words +should be printed in italics;" "Catholicism is naive Christianity; +Protestantism is sentimental." The sheer whimsicality of phrase seems +to be at times its own excuse for being, as in an explanation of +certain elegiac poems as "the sensation of misery in the contemplation +of the silliness of the relations of banality to craziness;" but there +are many sentences which go deep below the surface--none better +remembered, perhaps, than the dictum, "The French Revolution, Fichte's +_Doctrine of Science_, and Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_ are the greatest +symptoms of our age." + +In the _Athenaeum_ both brothers give splendid testimony to their +astonishing and epoch-making gift in transferring classical and +Romance metrical forms into elegant, idiomatic German; they give +affectionate attention to the insinuating beauty of elegiac verse, and +secure charming effects in some of the most alien Greek forms, not to +mention _terza rima, ottava rima_, the Spanish gloss, and not a few +very notable sonnets. + +The literary criticisms of the _Athenaeum_ are characteristically free +and aggressive, particularly in the frequent sneers at the flat +"homely" poetry of sandy North Germany. At the end of the second +volume, the "faked" _Literary Announcements_ are as daring as any +attempts of American newspaper humor. When the sum of the contents and +tendency of the journal is drawn, it is a strange mixture of +discriminating philosophy, devoted Christianity, Greek sensuousness, +and pornographic mysticism. There is a never-ending esthetic coquetry +with the flesh, with a serious defense of some very Greek practices +indeed. All of this is thoroughly typical of the spirit of the +Romantic school, and it is by no means surprising that Friedrich's +first book, the novel _Lucinda_ (1799), should stand as the supreme +unsavory classic in this field. That excellent divine, Schleiermacher, +exalted this document of the Rights of the Flesh as "a paean of Love, +in all its completeness," but it is a feeble, tiresome performance, +absolutely without structure, quite deserving the saucy epigram on +which it was pilloried by the wit of the time: + + Pedantry once of Fancy begged the dole + Of one brief kiss; she pointed him to Shame. + He, impotent and wanton, then Shame's favors stole. + Into the world at length a dead babe came-- + "_Lucinda_" was its name. + +The preaching of "religion," "womanliness," and the "holy fire of +divine enjoyment" makes an unedifying _melange_: "The holiest thing in +any human being is his own mind, his own power, his own will;" "You do +all according to your own mind, and refuse to be swayed by what is +usual and proper." Schleiermacher admired in it that "highest wisdom +and profoundest religion" which lead people to "yield to the rhythm of +fellowship and friendship, and to disturb no harmony of love." In more +prosaic diction, the upshot of its teaching was the surrender to +momentary feelings, quite divorced from Laws or Things. The only +morality is "full Humanity;" "Nature alone is worthy of honor, and +sound health alone is worthy of love;" "Let the discourse of love," +counsels Julius, "be bold and free, not more chastened than a Roman +elegy"--which is certainly not very much--and the skirmishes of +inclination are, in fact, set forth with an almost antique simplicity. +Society is to be developed only by "wit," which is seriously put into +comparison with God Almighty. As to practical ethics, one is told that +the most perfect life is but a pure vegetation; the right to indolence +is that which really makes the discrimination between choice and +common beings, and is the determining principle of nobility. "The +divine art of being indolent" and "the blissful bosom of +half-conscious self-forgetfulness" naturally lead to the thesis that +the empty, restless exertion of men in general is nothing but Gothic +perversity, and "boots naught but _ennui_ to ourselves and others." +Man is by nature "a serious beast; one must labor to counteract this +shameful tendency." Schleiermacher ventured, it is true, to raise the +question as to whether the hero ought not to have some trace of the +chivalrous about him, or ought not to do something effective in the +outer world--and posterity has fully supported this inquiry. + +Friedrich's next most important move was to Paris (1802), where he +gave lectures on philosophy, and attempted another journal. Here he +began his enthusiastic studies of the Sanskrit language and +literature, which proved to have an important influence on the +development of modern philology. This is eminently true of his work +_On the Language and Wisdom of the Indians_ (1808). In 1804 he removed +to Cologne, where he entered with great eagerness into the work of +re-discovering the medieval Lower Rhenish School of religious art and +Gothic architecture. In 1808 he, with his wife Dorothea (the daughter +of Moses Mendelssohn, who years before this time had left her home and +family to become his partner for life), entered the Roman Catholic +church, the interests of which engaged much of his energies for the +remainder of his life. + +[Illustration: #A HERMIT WATERING HORSES# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +He lived most of the time in Vienna, partly engaged in the literary +service of the Austrian government, partly in lecturing on history and +literature. He died in 1829 in Dresden, whither he had gone to deliver +a course of lectures. + +Friedrich Schlegel's philosophy of life was based upon the theory of +supremacy of the artist, the potency of poetry, with its incidental +corollaries of disregard for the Kantian ideal of Duty, and aversion +to all Puritanism and Protestantism. "There is no great world but that +of artists," he declared in the _Athenaeum_; "artists form a higher +caste; they should separate themselves, even in their way of living, +from other people." Poetry and philosophy formed in his thought an +inseparable unit, forever joined, "though seldom together--like Castor +and Pollux." His interest is in "Humanity," that is to say, a superior +type of the species, with a corresponding contempt for "commonness," +especially for the common man as a mere machine of "duty." On +performances he set no great store: "Those countenances are most +interesting to me in which Nature seems to have indicated a great +design without taking time to carry it out." + +August Wilhelm von Schlegel (1767-1845), more simply known as +"Wilhelm," was the more balanced, dignified, and serene nature, and +possessed in a far higher degree than Friedrich the art of steering +his course smoothly through life. Of very great significance in his +training were his university years at Goettingen, and his acquaintance +there with the poet Buerger, that early apostle of revolt from a formal +literature, whose own life had become more and more discredited and +was destined to go out in wretchedness and ignominy; the latter's +fecundating activities had never been allowed full scope, but +something of his spirit of adventure into new literary fields was +doubtless caught by the younger man. Buerger's attempts at naturalizing +the sonnet, for instance, are interesting in view of the fact that +Wilhelm Schlegel became the actual creator of this literary form among +the Germans. Schlegel's own pursuits as a student were prevailingly +in the field of Hellenism, in which his acquisitions were astounding; +his influence was especially potent in giving a philological character +to much of the work of the Romanticists. In Goettingen he became +acquainted with one of the most gifted women which Germany has ever +produced, Caroline, the daughter of the Goettingen professor Michaelis, +at the time a young widow in the home of her father, and destined to +become not only his wife, but the Muse of much of his most important +work. This office she performed until the time of their unfortunate +separation. + +After finishing his university studies, Wilhelm was for a while +private tutor in a wealthy family at Amsterdam, where conditions of +living were most agreeable, but where a suitable stimulus to the +inborn life of his mind was lacking. He accordingly gave up this +position and returned, with little but hopes, to Germany. Then came a +call which was both congenial and honorable. Schiller's attention had +been drawn, years before, to a review of his own profound +philosophical poem, _The Artists_, by an unknown young man, whom he at +once sought to secure as a regular contributor to his literary +journal, _The New Thalia_. Nothing came of this, chiefly because of +Schlegel's intimate relations to Buerger at the time. Schiller had +published, not long before, his annihilatory review of Buerger's poems, +which did so much to put that poet out of serious consideration for +the remainder of his days. In the meantime Schiller had addressed +himself to his crowning enterprise, the establishing of a literary +journal which should be the final dictator of taste and literary +criticism throughout the German-speaking world. In 1794 the plan for +_The Hours_ was realized under favorable auspices, and in the same +year occurred the death of Buerger. In 1796 Schiller invited Wilhelm to +become one of the regular staff of _The Hours_, and this invitation +Schlegel accepted, finding in it the opportunity to marry Caroline, +with whom he settled in Jena in July of that year. His first +contribution to _The Hours_ was a masterful and extended treatise on +_Dante_, which was accompanied by translations which were clearly the +most distinguished in that field which the German language had ever +been able to offer. Schlegel also furnished elaborated poems, somewhat +in Schiller's grand style, for the latter's _Almanac of the Muses_. +During the years of his residence at Jena (which continued until 1801) +Schlegel, with the incalculable assistance of his wife, published the +first eight volumes of those renderings of Shakespeare's plays into +German which doubtless stand at the very summit of the art of +transferring a poet to an alien region, and which have, in actual +fact, served to make the Bard of Avon as truly a fellow-citizen of the +Germans as of the Britons. Wilhelm's brother Friedrich had remained +but a year with him in Jena, before his removal to Berlin and his +establishment of the _Athenaeum_. Although separated from his brother, +Wilhelm's part in the conduct of the journal was almost as important +as Friedrich's, and, in effect, they conducted the whole significant +enterprise out of their own resources. The opening essay, _The +Languages_, is Wilhelm's, and properly, for at this time he was by far +the better versed in philological and literary matters. His cultural +acquisitions, his tremendous spoils of reading, were greater, and his +judgment more trustworthy. In all his work in the _Athenaeum_ he +presents a seasoned, many-sided sense of all poetical, phonetic and +musical values: rhythm, color, tone, the lightest breath and aroma of +an elusive work of art. One feels that Wilhelm overhauls the whole +business of criticism, and clears the field for coming literary +ideals. Especially telling is his demolition of Klopstock's violent +"Northernism," to which he opposes a far wider philosophy of grammar +and style. The universality of poetry, as contrasted with a narrow +"German" clumsiness, is blandly defended, and a joyous abandon is +urged as something better than the meticulous anxiety of chauvinistic +partisanism. In all his many criticisms of literature there are charm, +wit, and elegance, an individuality and freedom in the reviewer, who, +if less penetrating than his brother, displays a far more genial +breadth and humanity, and more secure composure. His translations, +more masterly than those of Friedrich, carry out Herder's demand for +complete absorption and re-creation. + +In 1801 Schlegel went to Berlin, where for three successive winters he +lectured on art and literature. His subsequent translations of +Calderon's plays (1803-1809) and of Romance lyrics served to +naturalize a large treasure of southern poetry upon German soil. In +1804, after having separated from his wife, he became attached to the +household of Madame de Stael, and traversed Europe with her. It is +through this association that she was enabled to write her brilliant +work, _On Germany_. In 1808 he delivered a series of lectures on +dramatic art and literature in Vienna, which enjoyed enormous +popularity, and are still reckoned the crowning achievement of his +career; perhaps the most significant of these is his discourse on +Shakespeare. In the first volume of the _Athenaeum_, Shakespeare's +universality had already been regarded as "the central point of +romantic art." As Romanticist, it was Schlegel's office to portray the +independent development of the modern English stage, and to defend +Shakespeare against the familiar accusations of barbaric crudity and +formlessness. In surveying the field, it was likewise incumbent upon +him to demonstrate in what respects the classic drama differed from +the independently developed modern play, and his still useful +generalization regards antique art as limited, clear, simple, and +perfected--as typified by a work of sculpture; whereas romantic art +delights in mingling its subjects--as a painting, which embraces many +objects and looks out into the widest vistas. Apart from the clarity +and smoothness of these Vienna discourses, their lasting merit lies in +their searching observation of the import of dramatic works from their +inner soul, and in a most discriminating sense of the relation of all +their parts to an organic whole. + +In 1818 Schlegel accepted a professorship at the University of Bonn, +in which place he exercised an incalculable influence upon one of the +rising stars of German literature, young Heinrich Heine, who derived +from him (if we may judge from his own testimony at the time; Heine's +later mood is a very different matter) an inspiration amounting to +captivation. The brilliant young student discovered here a stimulating +leader whose wit, finish, and elegance responded in full measure to +the hitherto unsatisfied cravings of his own nature. Although Heine +had become a very altered person at the time of writing his _Romantic +School_ (1836), this book throws a scintillating illumination upon +certain sides of Schlegel's temperament, and offers a vivid impression +of his living personality. + +In these last decades of his life Schlegel turned, as had his younger +brother, to the inviting field of Sanskrit literature and philology, +and extracted large and important treasures which may still be +reckoned among mankind's valued resources. When all discount has been +made on the side of a lack of specific gravity in Wilhelm Schlegel's +character, it is only just to assert that throughout his long and +prolific life he wrought with incalculable effect upon the +civilization of modern Europe as a humanizer of the first importance. + +Ludwig Tieck (1773-1853) is reckoned by many students of the Romantic +period to be the best and most lasting precipitate which the entire +movement has to show. For full sixty years a most prolific writer, and +occupied in the main with purely literary production, it is not +strange that he came to be regarded as the poetic mouthpiece of the +school. + +His birth was in a middle-class family of Berlin. A full university +training at Halle, Goettingen and Erlangen was accorded him, during +which he cannot be said to have distinguished himself by any triumph +in the field of formal studies, but in the course of which he +assimilated at first hand the chief modern languages of culture, +without any professional guidance. At an early stage in his growth he +discovered and fed full upon Shakespeare. As a university student he +also fell in love with the homely lore of German folk-poetry. In 1794 +he came back to Berlin, and turned to rather banal hack-writing for +the publisher Nicolai, chief of all exponents of rationalism. +Significant was his early rehabilitation of popular folk-tales and +chapbooks, as in _The Wonderful Love-Story of Beautiful Magelone and +Count Peter of Provence_ (1797). The stuff was that of one of the +prose chivalry-stories of the middle ages, full of marvels, seeking +the remote among strange hazards by land and sea. The tone of Tieck's +narrative is childlike and naive, with rainbow-glows of the bliss of +romantic love, glimpses of the poetry and symbolism of Catholic +tradition, and a somewhat sugary admixture of the spirit of the +_Minnelied_, with plenty of refined and delicate sensuousness. With +the postulate that song is the true language of life, the story is +sprinkled with lyrics at every turn. The whole adventure is into the +realm of dreams and vague sensations. + +Tieck must have been liberally baptized with Spree-water, for the +instantaneous, corrosive Berlin wit was a large part of his endowment. +His cool irony associated him more closely to the Schlegels than to +Novalis, with his life-and-death consecrations. His absurd +play-within-a-play, _Puss in Boots_ (1797), is delicious in its +bizarre ragout of satirical extravaganzas, where the naive and the +ironic lie side by side, and where the pompous seriousness of certain +complacent standards is neatly excoriated. + +Such publications as the two mentioned were hailed with rejoicing by +the Schlegels, who at once adopted Tieck as a natural ally. Even more +after their own hearts was the long novel, _Franz Sternbald's +Wanderings_ (1798), a vibrant confession, somewhat influenced by +_Wilhelm Meister_, of the Religion of Art (or the Art of Religion): +"Devout worship is the highest and purest joy in Art, a joy of which +our natures are capable only in their purest and most exalted +hours." + +[Illustration: #A WANDERER LOOKS INTO A LANDSCAPE# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +Sternbald, a pupil of Albrecht Duerer, makes a roving journey to the +Low Countries, the Rhine, and Italy, in order to deepen his artistic +nature. The psychology of the novel is by no means always true to the +spirit of the sixteenth century; in fact a good part of the story +reflects aristocratic French chateau-life in the eighteenth century. +The intensities of romantic friendship give a sustained thrill, and +the style is rhythmic, though the action is continually interrupted by +episodes, lyrics, and discourses. In the unworldliness, the delicacy +of sensibility, and the somewhat vague outlines of the story one may +be reminded, at times, of _The Marble Faun_. Its defense of German +Art, as compared with that of the Italian Renaissance, is its chief +message. + +This novel has been dwelt upon because of its direct influence upon +German painting and religion. A new verb, "_sternbaldisieren_," was +coined to parody a new movement in German art toward the medieval, +religious spirit. It is this book which Heine had in mind when he +ridiculed Tieck's "silly plunge into medieval naivete." Overbeck and +Cornelius in Rome, with their pre-Raphaelite, old-German and +catholicizing tendencies, became the leaders of a productive school. +Goethe scourged it for its "mystic-religious" aspirations, and +demanded a more vigorous, cheerful and progressive outlook for German +painting. + +Having already formed a personal acquaintance with Friedrich Schlegel +in Berlin, Tieck moved to Jena in 1799, came into very close relations +with Fichte, the Schlegels, and Novalis, and continued to produce +works in the spirit of the group, notably the tragedy _Life and Death +of Saint Genoveva_ (1800). His most splendid literary feat at this +period, however, was the translation of _Don Quixote_ (1799-1801), a +triumph over just those subtle difficulties which are well-nigh +insurmountable, a rendering which went far beyond any mere literalness +of text, and reproduced the very tone and aura of its original. + +In 1803 he published a graceful little volume of typical +_Minnelieder_, renewed from the middle high-German period. The note of +the book (in which Runge's copperplate outlines are perhaps as +significant as the poems) is spiritualized sex-love: the utterance of +its fragrance and delicacy, its unique place in the universe as a +pathway to the Divine--a point of view to which the modern mind is +prone to take some exceptions, considering a religion of erotics +hardly firm enough ground to support an entire philosophy of living. +All the motives of the old court-lyric are well represented--the +torments and rewards of love, the charm of spring, the refinements of +courtly breeding--and the sophisticated metrical forms are handled +with great virtuosity. Schiller, it is true, compared them to the +chatter of sparrows, and Goethe also paid his compliments to the +"sing-song of the Minnesingers," but it was this same little book +which first gave young Jakob Grimm the wish to become acquainted with +these poets in their original form. + +That eminently "Romantic" play, _Emperor Octavian_ (1804), derived +from a familiar medieval chap-book, lyric in tone and loose in form, +is a pure epitome of the movement, and the high-water mark of Tieck's +apostleship and service. Here Tieck shows his intimate sense of the +poetry of inanimate nature; ironic mockery surrenders completely to +religious devotion; the piece is bathed in-- + + The light that never was on sea or land, + The consecration and the poet's dream. + +It is in the prologue to this play that personified Romance declares +her descent from Faith, her father, and Love, her mother, and +introduces the action by the command: + + "Moonshine-lighted magic night + Holding every sense in thrall; + World, which wondrous tales recall, + Rise, in ancient splendors bright!" + +During a year's residence in Italy Tieck applied himself chiefly to +reading old-German manuscripts, in the Library of the Vatican, and +wavered upon the edge of a decision to devote himself to Germanic +philology. + +[Illustration: #A CHAPEL IN THE FOREST# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +The loss to science is not serious, for Tieck hardly possessed the +grasp and security which could have made him a peer of the great +pioneers in this field. From the time of his leaving for Italy, +Tieck's importance for the development of Romanticism becomes +comparatively negligible. + +After a roving existence of years, during which he lived in Vienna, +Munich, Prague and London, he made a settled home in Dresden. Here he +had an enviable place in the very considerable literary and artistic +group, and led an existence of almost suspiciously "reasonable" +well-being, from a Romantic view-point. The "dramatic evenings" at his +home, in which he read plays aloud before a brilliant gathering, were +a feature of social life. For seventeen years he had an influential +position as "dramaturg" of the Royal Theatre, it being his duty to +pass on plays to be performed and to decide upon suitable actors for +the parts. + +During his long residence in Dresden Tieck produced a very large +number of short stories (_Novellen_) which had a decided vogue, though +they differ widely from his earlier writings in dealing with real, +contemporary life. + +It is pleasant to record that the evening of Tieck's long life was +made secure from anxieties by a call to Berlin from Friedrich Wilhelm +IV., the "Romantic king." His last eleven years were spent there in +quiet and peace, disturbed only by having to give dramatic readings +before a self-sufficient court circle which was imperfectly equipped +for appreciating the merits of Tieck's performances. + +The early Romantic movement found its purest expression in the person +and writings of Friedrich von Hardenberg, better known under his +assumed literary name Novalis (1772-1801). Both his father, Baron von +Hardenberg (chief director of the Saxon salt-works), and his mother +belonged to the Moravians, that devoted group of mystical pietists +whose sincere consecration to the things of the spirit has achieved a +deathless place in the annals of the religious history of the +eighteenth century, and, more particularly, determined the beginnings +and the essential character of the world-wide Methodist movement. His +gentle life presents very little of dramatic incident: he was a +reserved, somewhat unsocial boy, greatly devoted to study and to the +reading of poetry. He was given a most thorough education, and, while +completing his university career, became acquainted with Friedrich +Schlegel, and remained his most intimate friend. He also came to know +Fichte, and eagerly absorbed his _Doctrine of Science_. A little later +he came into close relations with Wilhelm Schlegel and Tieck in Jena. +He experienced a seraphic love for a delicate girl of thirteen, whose +passing away at the age of fifteen served to transport the youth's +interests almost exclusively to the invisible world: "Life is a +sickness of the spirit, a passionate Doing." His chief conversation +lay in solitude, in seeking for a mystic inner solution of the secrets +of external nature. He loved to discourse on these unseen realms, and +to create an ideal connection between them all. The testimony of his +friend Tieck, who in company with Friedrich Schlegel edited his works +in a spirit of almost religious piety, runs: "The common life +environed him like some tale of fiction, and that realm which most men +conceive as something far and incomprehensible was the very Home of +his Soul." He was not quite twenty-nine years old at the time of his +peaceful death, which plunged the circle of his Romantic friends into +deepest grief. + +The envelope of his spiritual nature was so tenuous that he seemed to +respond to all the subtler influences of the universe; a sensitive +chord attuned to poetic values, he appeared to exercise an almost +mediumistic refraction and revelation of matters which lie only in the +realm of the transcendental-- + + "Weaving about the commonplace of things + The golden haze of morning's blushing glow." + +In reading Novalis, it is hardly possible to discriminate between +discourse and dreaming; his passion was for remote, never-experienced +things-- + + "Ah, lonely stands, and merged in woe, + Who loves the past with fervent glow!" + +His homesickness for the invisible world became an almost sensuous +yearning for the joys of death. + +In the first volume of the _Athenaeum_ (1798) a place of honor was +given to his group of apothegms, _Pollen_ (rather an unromantic +translation for "_Bluethenstaub_"); these were largely supplemented by +materials found after his death, and republished as _Fragments_. In +the last volume of the same journal (1800) appeared his _Hymns to +Night_. Practically all of his other published works are posthumous: +his unfinished novel, _Henry of Ofterdingen_; a set of religious +hymns; the beginnings of a "physical novel," _The Novices at Sais_. + +Novalis's aphoristic "seed-thoughts" reveal Fichte's transcendental +idealistic philosophy as the fine-spun web of all his observations on +life. The external world is but a shadow; the universe is in us; +there, or nowhere, is infinity, with all its systems, past or future; +the world is but a precipitate of human nature. + +_The Novices at Sais_, a mystical contemplation of nature reminding us +of the discourses of Jakob Boehme, has some suggestion of the +symbolistic lore of parts of Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_, and proves a +most racking riddle to the uninitiated. The penetration into the +meaning of the Veiled Image of Nature is attempted from the point of +view that all is symbolic: only poetic, intuitive souls may enter in; +the merely physical investigator is but searching through a +charnel-house. Nature, the countenance of Divinity, reveals herself to +the childlike spirit; to such she will, at her own good pleasure, +disclose herself spontaneously, though gradually. This seems to be the +inner meaning of the episodic tale, _Hyacinth and Rose-Blossom_. The +rhythmic prose _Hymns to Night_ exhale a delicate melancholy, moving +in a vague haze, and yet breathing a peace which comes from a +knowledge of the deeper meanings of things, divined rather than +experienced. Their stealing melody haunts the soul, however dazed the +mind may be with their vagueness, and their exaltation of death above +life. In his _Spiritual Poems_ we feel a simple, passionate intensity +of adoration, a yearning sympathy for the hopeless and the +heavy-laden; in their ardent assurance of love, peace, and rest, they +are surely to be reckoned among the most intimate documents in the +whole archives of the "varieties of religious experience." + +The unfinished novel _Henry of Ofterdingen_ reaches a depth of +obscurity which is saved from absurdity only by the genuinely fervent +glow of a soul on the quest for its mystic ideals: "The blue flower it +is that I yearn to look upon!" No farcical romance of the nursery +shows more truly the mingled stuff that dreams are made on, yet the +intimation that the dream is not all a dream, that the spirit of an +older day is symbolically struggling for some expression in words, +gave it in its day a serious importance at which our own age can +merely marvel. It brings no historical conviction; it is altogether +free from such conventional limits as Time and Space. Stripped of its +dreamy diction, there is even a tropical residue of sensuousness, to +which the English language is prone to give a plainer name. It +develops into a fantastic _melange_ which no American mind can +possibly reckon with; what its effect would be upon a person relegated +to reading it in close confinement, it would not be safe to assert, +but it is quite certain that "this way madness lies." + +To generalize about the Romantic movement, may seem about as practical +as to attempt to make a trigonometrical survey of the Kingdom of +Dreams. No epoch in all literary history is so hopelessly entangled in +the meshes of subtle philosophical speculation, derived from the most +complex sources. To deal with the facts of classic art, which is +concerned with seeking a clearly-defined perfection, is a simple +matter compared with the unbounded and undefined concepts of a school +which waged war upon "the deadliness of ascertained facts" and +immersed itself in vague intimations of glories that were to be. Its +most authorized exponent declared it to be "the delineation of +sentimental matter in fantastic form." A more elaborated authoritative +definition is given in the first volume of the _Athenaeum_: + +"Romantic poetry is a progressive universal-poetry. Its aim is not +merely to reunite all the dispersed classes of poetry, and to place +poetry in touch with philosophy and rhetoric; it aims and ought to aim +to mingle and combine poetry and prose, genius and criticism, artistic +and natural poetry; to make poetry lively and social, to make life and +society poetic; to poetize wit, to saturate all the forms of art with +worthy materials of culture and enliven them by the sallies of humor. +It embraces everything that is poetic, from the greatest and most +inclusive system of art, to the sigh, the kiss, that the poetic child +utters in artless song. Other classes of poetry are complete, and may +now be exhaustively dissected; romantic poetry is still in process of +becoming--in fact this is its chief characteristic, that it forever +can merely become, but never be completed. It can never be exhausted +by any theory, and only an intuitive criticism could dare to attempt +to characterize its ideals. It alone is endless, as it alone is free, +and asserts as its first law that the whim of the poet tolerates no +law above itself. Romantic poetry is the only sort which is more than +a class, and, as it were, the art of poetry itself." + +We may in part account for Romanticism by recalling that it was the +product of an age which was no longer in sympathy with its own tasks, +an age of political miseries and restrained powers, which turned away +from its own surroundings and sought to be free from all contact with +them, striving to benumb its sensations by an auto-intoxication of +dreams. + +Romanticism is built upon the imposing corner-stone of the unique +importance of the Individual: "To become God, to be man, to develop +one's own being, these are expressions for the same thing." As +personality is supreme, it is natural that there should follow a +contempt for the mediocrity of current majorities, standards and +opinions. It abhorred universal abstractions, as opposed to the truth +and meaning of individual phenomena. It stoutly believed in an +inexpugnable right to Illusions, and held clarity and earnestness to +be foes of human happiness. "The poem gained great applause, because +it had so strange, so well-nigh unintelligible a sound. It was like +music itself, and for that very reason attracted so irresistibly. +Although the hearers were awake, they were entertained _as though in a +dream_." + +Hence a purely lyric attitude toward life, which was apprehended only +on transcendent, musical valuations. Poetry was to be the heart and +centre of actual living; modern life seemed full of "prose and +pettiness" as compared with the Middle Ages; it was the doctrine of +this Mary in the family of Bethany to leave to the Martha of dull +externalists the care of many things, while she "chose the better +part" in contemplative lingering at the vision of what was essentially +higher. A palpitant imagination outranks "cold intelligence;" +sensation, divorced from all its bearings or functions, is its own +excuse for being. Of responsibility, hardly a misty trace; realities +are playthings and to be treated allegorically. + +The step was not a long one to the thesis that "disorder and confusion +are the pledge of true efficiency"--such being one of the +"seed-thoughts" of Novalis. In mixing all species, Romanticism amounts +to unchartered freedom, "_die gesunde, kraeftige Ungezogenheit_." It is +no wonder that so many of its literary works remain unfinished +fragments, and that many of its exponents led unregulated lives. + +"Get you irony, and form yourself to urbanity" is the counsel of +Friedrich Schlegel. The unbridgeable chasm between Ideal and Life +could not be spanned, and the baffled idealist met this hopelessness +with the shrug of irony. The every-day enthusiasm of the common life +invited only a sneer, often, it is true, associated with flashing wit. + +Among its more pleasing manifestations, Romanticism shows a remarkable +group of gifted, capable women, possibly because this philosophy of +intuition corresponds to the higher intimations of woman's soul. Other +obvious fruits of the movement were the revival of the poetry and +dignity of the Middle Ages, both in art and life--that colorful, +form-loving musical era which the Age of Enlightenment had so crassly +despised. That this yearning for the beautiful background led to +reaction in politics and religion is natural enough; more edifying are +the rich fruits which scholarship recovered when Romanticism had +directed it into the domains of German antiquity and philology, and +the wealth of popular song. In addition to these, we must reckon the +spoils which these adventurers brought back from their quest into the +faery lands of Poetry in southern climes. + +When all is said, and in spite of Romanticism's weak and unmanly +quitting of the field of duty, in spite of certain tendencies to +ignore and supersede the adamant foundations of morality upon which +the "humanities" as well as society rest, one cannot quite help hoping +that somehow good may be the final hint of it all. Like Mary Stuart, +it is, at least, somewhat better than its worst repute, as formulated +by its enemies. Estimates change; even the excellent Wordsworth was +held by the English reviewers to be fantastic and vague in his _Ode to +Duty_. We should not forget that the most shocking pronouncements of +the Romanticists were uttered half-ironically, to say the least. After +its excursion into the fantastic jungle of Romanticism, the world has +found it restful and restorative, to be sure, to return to the limited +perfection of the serene and approved classics; yet perchance it _is_ +the last word of all philosophy that the astounding circumambient +Universe is almost entirely unperceived by our senses and reasoning +powers. + +Let us confess, and without apology, that the country which claims a +Hawthorne, a Poe, and a youthful Longfellow, can never surrender +unconditionally its hold upon the "True Romance:" + + "Through wantonness if men profess + They weary of Thy parts, + E'en let them die at blasphemy + And perish with their arts; + But we that love, but we that prove + Thine excellence august, + While we adore discover more + Thee perfect, wise, and just.... + + A veil to draw 'twixt God His Law + And Man's infirmity; + A shadow kind to dumb and blind + The shambles where we die; + A sum to trick th' arithmetic + Too base of leaguing odds; + The spur of trust, the curb of lust-- + Thou handmaid of the Gods!" + + + + +AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL + + * * * * * + +LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART[11] (1809) + +TRANSLATED BY JOHN BLACK + +LECTURE XXII + +Comparison of the English and Spanish Theatres--Spirit of the Romantic +Drama--Shakespeare--His age and the circumstances of his Life. + +In conformity with the plan which we laid down at the first, we shall +now proceed to treat of the English and Spanish theatres. We have +been, on various occasions, compelled in passing to allude cursorily, +sometimes to the one and sometimes to the other, partly for the sake +of placing, by means of contrast, many ideas in a clearer light, and +partly on account of the influence which these stages have had on the +theatres of other countries. Both the English and Spaniards possess a +very rich dramatic literature, both have had a number of prolific and +highly talented dramatists, among whom even the least admired and +celebrated, considered as a whole, display uncommon aptitude for +dramatic animation and insight into the essence of theatrical effect. +The history of their theatres has no connection with that of the +Italians and French, for they developed themselves wholly out of the +abundance of their own intrinsic energy, without any foreign +influence: the attempts to bring them back to an imitation of the +ancients, or even of the French, have either been attended with no +success, or not been made till a late period in the decay of the +drama. The formation of these two stages, again, is equally +independent of each other; the Spanish poets were altogether +unacquainted with the English; and in the older and most important +period of the English theatre I could discover no trace of any +knowledge of Spanish plays (though their novels and romances were +certainly known), and it was not till the time of Charles II. that +translations from Calderon first made their appearance. + +So many things among men have been handed down from century to century +and from nation to nation, and the human mind is in general so slow to +invent, that originality in any department of mental exertion is +everywhere a rare phenomenon. We are desirous of seeing the result of +the efforts of inventive geniuses when, regardless of what in the same +line has elsewhere been carried to a high degree of perfection, they +set to work in good earnest to invent altogether for themselves; when +they lay the foundation of the new edifice on uncovered ground, and +draw all the preparations, all the building materials, from their own +resources. We participate, in some measure, in the joy of success, +when we see them advance rapidly from their first helplessness and +need to a finished mastery in their art. The history of the Grecian +theatre would afford us this cheering prospect could we witness its +rudest beginnings, which were not preserved, for they were not even +committed to writing; but it is easy, when we compare AEschylus and +Sophocles, to form some idea of the preceding period. The Greeks +neither inherited nor borrowed their dramatic art from any other +people; it was original and native, and for that very reason was it +able to produce a living and powerful effect. But it ended with the +period when Greeks imitated Greeks; namely, when the Alexandrian poets +began learnedly and critically to compose dramas after the model of +the great tragic writers. The reverse of this was the case with the +Romans; they received the form and substance of their dramas from the +Greeks; they never attempted to act according to their own discretion, +or to express their own way of thinking; and hence they occupy so +insignificant a place in the history of dramatic art. Among the +nations of modern Europe, the English and Spaniards alone (for the +German stage is but forming) possess as yet a theatre entirely +original and national, which, in its own peculiar shape, has +arrived at maturity. + +[Illustration: #AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL#] + +Those critics who consider the authority of the ancients, as models, +to be such that in poetry, as in all the other arts, there can be no +safety out of the pale of imitation, affirm that, as the nations in +question have not followed this course, they have brought nothing but +irregular works on the stage, which, though they may possess +occasional passages of splendor and beauty, must yet, as a whole, be +forever reprobated as barbarous and wanting in form. We have already, +in the introductory part of these Lectures, stated our sentiments +generally on this way of thinking; but we must now examine the subject +somewhat more closely. + +If the assertion be well founded, all that distinguishes the works of +the greatest English and Spanish dramatists, a Shakespeare and a +Calderon, must rank them far below the ancients; they could in no wise +be of importance for theory, and would at most appear remarkable, on +the assumption that the obstinacy of these nations in refusing to +comply with the rules may have afforded a more ample field to the +poets to display their native originality, though at the expense of +art. But even this assumption, on a closer examination, appears +extremely questionable. The poetic spirit requires to be limited, that +it may move with a becoming liberty within its proper precincts, as +has been felt by all nations on the first invention of metre; it must +act according to laws derivable from its own essence, otherwise its +strength will evaporate in boundless vacuity. + +The works of genius cannot therefore be permitted to be without form; +but of this there is no danger. However, that we may answer this +objection of want of form, we must understand the exact meaning of the +term "form," since most critics, and more especially those who insist +on a stiff regularity, interpret it merely in a mechanical, and not in +an organical sense. Form is mechanical when, through external force, +it is imparted to any material merely as an accidental addition +without reference to its quality; as, for example, when we give a +particular shape to a soft mass that it may retain the same after its +induration. Organical form, again, is innate; it unfolds itself from +within, and requires its determination contemporaneously with the +perfect development of the germ. We everywhere discover such forms in +nature throughout the whole range of living powers, from the +crystallization of salts and minerals to plants and flowers, and from +these again to the human body. In the fine arts, as well as in the +domain of nature, the supreme artist, all genuine forms are organical, +that is, determined by the quality of the work. In a word, the form is +nothing but a significant exterior, the speaking physiognomy of each +thing, which, as long as it is not disfigured by any destructive +accident, gives a true evidence of its hidden essence. + +Hence it is evident that the spirit of poetry, which, though +imperishable, migrates, as it were, through different bodies, must, so +often as it is newly born in the human race, mold to itself, out of +the nutrimental substance of an altered age, a body of a different +conformation. The forms vary with the direction taken by the poetical +sense; and when we give to the new kinds of poetry the old names, and +judge of them according to the ideas conveyed by these names, the +application which we make of the authority of classical antiquity is +altogether unjustifiable. No one should be tried before a tribunal to +which he is not amenable. We may safely admit that most of the English +and Spanish dramatic works are neither tragedies nor comedies in the +sense of the ancients; they are romantic dramas. That the stage of a +people in its foundation and formation, who neither knew nor wished to +know anything of foreign models, will possess many peculiarities, and +not only deviate from, but even exhibit a striking contrast to, the +theatres of other nations who had a common model for imitation before +their eyes, is easily supposable, and we should only be astonished +were it otherwise. + +[Illustration: #CAROLINE SCHLEGEL#] + +But when in two nations, differing so widely as the English and +Spanish in physical, moral, political, and religious respects, the +theatres (which, without being known to one another, arose about the +same time) possess, along with external and internal diversities, the +most striking features of affinity, the attention even of the most +thoughtless cannot but be turned to this phenomenon; and the +conjecture will naturally occur that the same, or, at least, a kindred +principle must have prevailed in the development of both. This +comparison, however, of the English and Spanish theatre, in their +common contrast with every dramatic literature which has grown up out +of an imitation of the ancients, has, so far as we know, never yet +been attempted. Could we raise from the dead a countryman, a +contemporary and intelligent admirer of Shakespeare, and another of +Calderon, and introduce to their acquaintance the works of the poet to +which in life they were strangers, they would both, without doubt, +considering the subject rather from a national than a general point of +view, enter with difficulty into the above idea and have many +objections to urge against it. But here a reconciling criticism[12] +must step in; and this, perhaps, may be best exercised by a German, +who is free from the national peculiarities of either Englishmen or +Spaniards, yet by inclination friendly to both, and prevented by no +jealousy from acknowledging the greatness which has been earlier +exhibited in other countries than his own. + +The similarity of the English and Spanish theatres does not consist +merely in the bold neglect of the Unities of Place and Time, or in the +commixture of comic and tragic elements; that they were unwilling or +unable to comply with the rules and with right reason (in the meaning +of certain critics these terms are equivalent), may be considered as +an evidence of merely negative properties. The ground of the +resemblance lies far deeper, in the inmost substance of the fictions +and in the essential relations through which every deviation of form +becomes a true requisite, which, together with its validity, has also +its significance. What they have in common with each other is the +spirit of the romantic poetry, giving utterance to itself in a +dramatic shape. However, to explain ourselves with due precision, the +Spanish theatre, in our opinion, down to its decline and fall in the +commencement of the eighteenth century, is almost entirely romantic; +the English is completely so in Shakespeare alone, its founder and +greatest master; but in later poets the romantic principle appears +more or less degenerated, or is no longer perceivable, although the +march of dramatic composition introduced by virtue of it has been, +outwardly at least, pretty generally retained. The manner in which the +different ways of thinking of the two nations, one a northern and the +other a southern, have been expressed; the former endowed with a +gloomy, the latter with a glowing imagination; the one nation +possessed of a scrutinizing seriousness disposed to withdraw within +itself, the other impelled outwardly by the violence of passion--the +mode in which all this has been accomplished will be most +satisfactorily explained at the close of this section, when we come to +institute a parallel between Shakespeare and Calderon, the only two +poets who are entitled to be called great. + +Of the origin and essence of the romantic I treated in my first +Lecture, and I shall here, therefore, merely briefly mention the +subject. The ancient art and poetry rigorously separate things which +are dissimilar; the romantic delights in indissoluble mixtures; all +contrarieties--nature and art, poetry and prose, seriousness and +mirth, recollection and anticipation, spirituality and sensuality, +terrestrial and celestial, life and death, are by it blended in the +most intimate combination. As the oldest law-givers delivered their +mandatory instructions and prescriptions in measured melodies; as this +is fabulously ascribed to Orpheus, the first softener of the yet +untamed race of mortals; in like manner the whole of ancient poetry +and art is, as it were, a rhythmical _nomos_ (law), a harmonious +promulgation of the permanently established legislation of a world +submitted to a beautiful order and reflecting in itself the eternal +images of things. Romantic poetry, on the other hand, is the +expression of the secret attraction to a chaos which lies concealed in +the very bosom of the ordered universe, and is perpetually striving +after new and marvelous births; the life-giving spirit of primal love +broods here anew on the face of the waters. The former is more simple, +clear, and like to nature in the self-existent perfection of her +separate works; the latter, notwithstanding its fragmentary +appearance, approaches nearer to the secret of the universe. For +Conception can only comprise each object separately, but nothing in +truth can ever exist separately and by itself; Feeling perceives all +in all at one and the same time. + +Respecting the two species of poetry with which we are here +principally occupied, we compared the ancient Tragedy to a group in +sculpture, the figures corresponding to the characters, and their +grouping to the action; and to these two, in both productions of art, +is the consideration exclusively directed, as being all that is +properly exhibited. But the romantic drama must be viewed as a large +picture, where not merely figure and motion are exhibited in larger, +richer groups, but where even all that surrounds the figures must also +be portrayed; where we see not merely the nearest objects, but are +indulged with the prospect of a considerable distance; and all this +under a magical light which assists in giving to the impression the +particular character desired. + +Such a picture must be bounded less perfectly and less distinctly than +the group; for it is like a fragment cut out of the optic scene of +the world. However, the painter, by the setting of his foreground, by +throwing the whole of his light into the centre, and by other means of +fixing the point of view, will learn that he must neither wander +beyond the composition nor omit anything within it. + +In the representation of figure, Painting cannot compete with +Sculpture, since the former can exhibit it only by a deception and +from a single point of view; but, on the other hand, it communicates +more life to its imitations by colors which in a picture are made to +imitate the lightest shades of mental expression in the countenance. +The look, which can be given only very imperfectly by Sculpture, +enables us to read much deeper in the mind and perceive its lightest +movements. Its peculiar charm, in short, consists in this, that it +enables us to see in bodily objects what is least corporeal, namely, +light and air. + +The very same description of beauties are peculiar to the romantic +drama. It does not (like the Old Tragedy) separate seriousness and the +action, in a rigid manner, from among the whole ingredients of life; +it embraces at once the whole of the chequered drama of life with all +its circumstances; and while it seems only to represent subjects +brought accidentally together, it satisfies the unconscious +requisitions of fancy, buries us in reflections on the inexpressible +signification of the objects which we view blended by order, nearness +and distance, light and color, into one harmonious whole; and thus +lends, as it were, a soul to the prospect before us. + +The change of time and of place (supposing its influence on the mind +to be included in the picture and that it comes to the aid of the +theatrical perspective, with reference to what is indicated in the +distance, or half-concealed by intervening objects); the contrast of +gayety and gravity (supposing that in degree and kind they bear a +proportion to each other); finally, the mixture of the dialogical and +the lyrical elements (by which the poet is enabled, more or less +perfectly, to transform his personages into poetical beings)--these, +in my opinion, are not mere licenses, but true beauties in the +romantic drama. In all these points, and in many others also, the +English and Spanish works, which are preeminently worthy of this title +of Romantic, fully resemble each other, however different they may be +in other respects. + +Of the two we shall first notice the English theatre, because it +arrived at maturity earlier than the Spanish. In both we must occupy +ourselves almost exclusively with a single artist, with Shakespeare in +the one and Calderon in the other; but not in the same order with +each, for Shakespeare stands first and earliest among the English; any +remarks we may have to make on earlier or contemporary antiquities of +the English stage may be made in a review of his history. But Calderon +had many predecessors; he is at once the summit and almost the close +of dramatic art in Spain. + +The wish to speak with the brevity which the limits of my plan demand, +of a poet to the study of whom I have devoted many years of my life, +places me in no little embarrassment. I know not where to begin; for I +should never be able to end, were I to say all that I have felt and +thought, on the perusal of his works. With the poet, as with the man, +a more than ordinary intimacy prevents us, perhaps, from putting +ourselves in the place of those who are first forming an acquaintance +with him: we are too familiar with his most striking peculiarities to +be able to pronounce upon the first impression which they are +calculated to make on others. On the other hand, we ought to possess, +and to have the power of communicating, more correct ideas of his mode +of procedure, of his concealed or less obvious views, and of the +meaning and import of his labors, than others whose acquaintance with +him is more limited. + +Shakespeare is the pride of his nation. A late poet has, with +propriety, called him "the genius of the British isles." He was the +idol of his contemporaries during the interval, indeed, of puritanical +fanaticism, which broke out in the next generation and rigorously +proscribed all liberal arts and literature, and, during the reign of +the second Charles, when his works were either not acted at all, or, +if so, very much changed and disfigured, his fame was awhile obscured, +only to shine forth again about the beginning of the last century with +more than its original brightness; but since then it has only +increased in lustre with the course of time; and for centuries to come +(I speak it with the greatest confidence) it will, like an Alpine +avalanche, continue to gather strength at every moment of its +progress. Of the future extension of his fame, the enthusiasm with +which he was naturalized in Germany, the moment that he was known, is +a significant earnest. In the South of Europe,[13] his language and +the great difficulty of translating him with fidelity will be, +perhaps, an invincible obstacle to his general diffusion. In England, +the greatest actors vie with one another in the impersonation of his +characters; the printers in splendid editions of his works; and the +painters in transferring his scenes to the canvas. Like Dante, +Shakespeare has received the perhaps inevitable but still cumbersome +honor of being treated like a classical author of antiquity. The +oldest editions have been carefully collated, and, where the readings +seemed corrupt, many corrections have been suggested; and the whole +literature of his age has been drawn forth from the oblivion to which +it had been consigned, for the sole purpose of explaining the phrases +and illustrating the allusions of Shakespeare. Commentators have +succeeded one another in such number that their labors alone, with the +critical controversies to which they have given rise, constitute of +themselves no inconsiderable library. These labors deserve both our +praise and gratitude--more especially the historical investigations +into the sources from which Shakespeare drew the materials of his +plays and also into the previous and contemporary state of the +English stage, as well as other kindred subjects of inquiry. With +respect, however, to their merely philological criticisms, I am +frequently compelled to differ from the commentators; and where, too, +considering him simply as a poet, they endeavor to enter into his +views and to decide upon his merits, I must separate myself from them +entirely. I have hardly ever found either truth or profundity in their +remarks; and these critics seem to me to be but stammering +interpreters of the general and almost idolatrous admiration of his +countrymen. There may be people in England who entertain the same +views of them with myself, at least it is a well-known fact that a +satirical poet has represented Shakespeare, under the hands of his +commentators, by Actaeon worried to death by his own dogs; and, +following up the story of Ovid, designated a female writer on the +great poet as the snarling Lycisca. + +We shall endeavor, in the first place, to remove some of these false +views, in order to clear the way for our own homage, that we may +thereupon offer it the more freely without let or hindrance. + +From all the accounts of Shakespeare which have come down to us it is +clear that his contemporaries knew well the treasure they possessed in +him, and that they felt and understood him better than most of those +who succeeded him. In those days a work was generally ushered into the +world with Commendatory Verses; and one of these, prefixed to an early +edition of Shakespeare, by an unknown author, contains some of the +most beautiful and happy lines that were ever applied to any poet.[14] +An idea, however, soon became prevalent that Shakespeare was a rude +and wild genius, who poured forth at random, and without aim or +object, his unconnected compositions. Ben Jonson, a younger +contemporary and rival of Shakespeare, who labored in the sweat of his +brow, but with no great success, to expel the romantic drama from the +English stage and to form it on the model of the ancients, gave it as +his opinion that Shakespeare did not blot enough, and that, as he did +not possess much school-learning, he owed more to nature than to art. +The learned, and sometimes rather pedantic Milton was also of this +opinion, when he says-- + + Our sweetest Shakespeare, fancy's child, + Warbles his native wood-notes wild. + +Yet it is highly honorable to Milton that the sweetness of +Shakespeare, the quality which of all others has been least allowed, +was felt and acknowledged by him. The modern editors, both in their +prefaces, which may be considered as so many rhetorical exercises in +praise of the poet, and in their remarks on separate passages, go +still farther. Judging them by principles which are not applicable to +them, not only do they admit the irregularity of his pieces, but, on +occasion, they accuse him of bombast, of a confused, ungrammatical, +and conceited mode of writing, and even of the most contemptible +buffoonery. Pope asserts that he wrote both better and worse than any +other man. All the scenes and passages which did not square with the +littleness of his own taste, he wished to place to the account of +interpolating players; and he was on the right road, had his opinion +been taken, of giving us a miserable dole of a mangled Shakespeare. It +is, therefore, not to be wondered at if foreigners, with the exception +of the Germans latterly, have, in their ignorance of him, even +improved upon these opinions.[15] They speak in general of +Shakespeare's plays as monstrous productions, which could have been +given to the world only by a disordered imagination in a barbarous +age; and Voltaire crowns the whole with more than usual assurance +when he observes that _Hamlet_, the profound masterpiece of the +philosophical poet, "seems the work of a drunken savage." That +foreigners, and, in particular, Frenchmen, who ordinarily speak the +most strange language of antiquity and the middle ages, as if +cannibalism had been terminated in Europe only by Louis XIV., should +entertain this opinion of Shakespeare, might be pardonable; but that +Englishmen should join in calumniating that glorious epoch of their +history,[16] which laid the foundation of their national greatness, is +incomprehensible. + +Shakespeare flourished and wrote in the last half of the reign of +Queen Elizabeth and first half of that of James I.; and, consequently, +under monarchs who were learned themselves and held literature in +honor. The policy of modern Europe, by which the relations of its +different states have been so variously interwoven with one another, +commenced a century before. The cause of the Protestants was decided +by the accession of Elizabeth to the throne; and the attachment to the +ancient belief cannot therefore be urged as a proof of the prevailing +darkness. Such was the zeal for the study of the ancients that even +court ladies, and the queen herself, were acquainted with Latin and +Greek, and taught even to speak the former--a degree of knowledge +which we should in vain seek for in the courts of Europe at the +present day. The trade and navigation which the English carried on +with all the four quarters of the world made them acquainted with the +customs and mental productions of other nations; and it would appear +that they were then more indulgent to foreign manners than they are +in the present day. Italy had already produced nearly all that still +distinguishes her literature, and, in England, translations in verse +were diligently, and even successfully, executed from the Italian. +Spanish literature also was not unknown, for it is certain that _Don +Quixote_ was read in England soon after its first appearance. Bacon, +the founder of modern experimental philosophy, and of whom it may be +said that he carried in his pocket all that even in this eighteenth +century merits the name of philosophy, was a contemporary of +Shakespeare. His fame as a writer did not, indeed, break forth into +its glory till after his death; but what a number of ideas must have +been in circulation before such an author could arise! Many branches +of human knowledge have, since that time, been more extensively +cultivated, but such branches as are totally unproductive to +poetry--chemistry, mechanics, manufactures, and rural and political +economy--will never enable a man to become a poet. I have +elsewhere[17] examined into the pretensions of modern enlightenment, +as it is called, which looks with such contempt on all preceding ages; +I have shown that at bottom it is all small, superficial, and +unsubstantial. The pride of what has been called "the existing +maturity of human intensity" has come to a miserable end; and the +structures erected by those pedagogues of the human race have fallen +to pieces like the baby-houses of children. + +With regard to the tone of society in Shakespeare's day, it is +necessary to remark that there is a wide difference between true +mental cultivation and what is called polish. That artificial polish +which puts an end to everything like free original communication and +subjects all intercourse to the insipid uniformity of certain rules, +was undoubtedly wholly unknown to the age of Shakespeare, as in a +great measure it still is at the present day in England. It possessed, +on the other hand, a fulness of healthy vigor, which showed itself +always with boldness, and sometimes also with coarseness. The spirit +of chivalry was not yet wholly extinct, and a queen, who was far more +jealous in exacting homage to her sex than to her throne, and who, +with her determination, wisdom, and magnanimity, was in fact well +qualified to inspire the minds of her subjects with an ardent +enthusiasm, inflamed that spirit to the noblest love of glory and +renown. The feudal independence also still survived in some measure; +the nobility vied with one another in splendor of dress and number of +retinue, and every great lord had a sort of small court of his own. +The distinction of ranks was as yet strongly marked--a state of things +ardently to be desired by the dramatic poet. In conversation they took +pleasure in quick and unexpected answers; and the witty sally passed +rapidly like a ball from mouth to mouth, till the merry game could no +longer be kept up. This, and the abuse of the play on words (of which +King James was himself very fond, and we need not therefore wonder at +the universality of the mode), may, doubtless, be considered as +instances of a bad taste; but to take them for symptoms of rudeness +and barbarity is not less absurd than to infer the poverty of a people +from their luxurious extravagance. These strained repartees are +frequently employed by Shakespeare, with the view of painting the +actual tone of the society in his day; it does not, however, follow +that they met with his approbation; on the contrary, it clearly +appears that he held them in derision. Hamlet says, in the scene with +the gravedigger, "By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken +note of it: the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant +comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe." And +Lorenzo, in the _Merchant of Venice_, alluding to Launcelot: + + O dear discretion, how his words are suited! + The fool hath planted in his memory + An army of good words: and I do know + A many fools, that stand in better place, + Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word + Defy the matter. + +Besides, Shakespeare, in a thousand places, lays great and marked +stress on a correct and refined tone of society, and lashes every +deviation from it, whether of boorishness or affected foppery; not +only does he give admirable discourses on it, but he represents it in +all its shades and modifications by rank, age, or sex. What foundation +is there, then, for the alleged barbarity of his age, its offences +against propriety? But if this is to be admitted as a test, then the +ages of Pericles and Augustus must also be described as rude and +uncultivated; for Aristophanes and Horace, who were both considered as +models of urbanity, display, at times, the coarsest indelicacy. On +this subject, the diversity in the moral feeling of ages depends on +other causes. Shakespeare, it is true, sometimes introduces us to +improper company; at others, he suffers ambiguous expressions to +escape in the presence of women, and even from women themselves. This +species of indelicacy was probably not then unusual. He certainly did +not indulge in it merely to please the multitude, for in many of his +pieces there is not the slightest trace of this sort to be found; and +in what virgin purity are many of his female parts worked out! When we +see the liberties taken by other dramatic poets in England in his +time, and even much later, we must account him comparatively chaste +and moral. Neither must we overlook certain circumstances in the +existing state of the theatre. The female parts were not acted by +women, but by boys; and no person of the fair sex appeared in the +theatre without a mask. Under such a carnival disguise, much might be +heard by them, and much might be ventured to be said in their +presence, which in other circumstances would have been absolutely +improper. It is certainly to be wished that decency should be observed +on all public occasions, and consequently also on the stage. But even +in this it is possible to go too far. That carping censoriousness +which scents out impurity in every bold sally, is, at best, but an +ambiguous criterion of purity of morals; and beneath this hypocritical +guise there often lurks the consciousness of an impure imagination. +The determination to tolerate nothing which has the least reference to +the sensual relation between the sexes, may be carried to a pitch +extremely oppressive to a dramatic poet and highly prejudicial to the +boldness and freedom of his compositions. If such considerations were +to be attended to, many of the happiest parts of Shakespeare's plays, +for example, in _Measure for Measure_, and _All's Well that Ends +Well_, which, nevertheless, are handled with a due regard to decency, +must be set aside as sinning against this would-be propriety. + +Had no other monuments of the age of Elizabeth come down to us than +the works of Shakespeare, I should, from them alone, have formed the +most favorable idea of its state of social culture and enlightenment. +When those who look through such strange spectacles as to see nothing +in them but rudeness and barbarity cannot deny what I have now +historically proved, they are usually driven to this last resource, +and demand, "What has Shakespeare to do with the mental culture of his +age? He had no share in it. Born in an inferior rank, ignorant and +uneducated, he passed his life in low society, and labored to please a +vulgar audience for his bread, without ever dreaming of fame or +posterity." + +In all this there is not a single word of truth, though it has been +repeated a thousand times. It is true we know very little of the +poet's life; and what we do know consists for the most part of +raked-up and chiefly suspicious anecdotes, of about such a character +as those which are told at inns to inquisitive strangers who visit the +birthplace or neighborhood of a celebrated man. Within a very recent +period some original documents have been brought to light, and, among +them, his will, which give us a peep into his family concerns. It +betrays more than ordinary deficiency of critical acumen in +Shakespeare's commentators, that none of them, so far as we know, has +ever thought of availing himself of his sonnets for tracing the +circumstances of his life. These sonnets paint most unequivocally the +actual situation and sentiments of the poet; they make us acquainted +with the passions of the man; they even contain remarkable confessions +of his youthful errors. Shakespeare's father was a man of property, +whose ancestors had held the office of alderman and bailiff in +Stratford; and in a diploma from the Heralds' Office for the renewal +or confirmation of his coat of arms, he is styled _gentleman_. Our +poet, the oldest son but third child, could not, it is true, receive +an academic education, as he married when hardly eighteen, probably +from mere family considerations. This retired and unnoticed life he +continued to lead but a few years; and he was either enticed to London +from wearisomeness of his situation, or banished from home, as it is +said, in consequence of his irregularities. There he assumed the +profession of a player, which he considered at first as a degradation, +principally, perhaps, because of the wild excesses[18] into which he +was seduced by the example of his comrades. It is extremely probable +that the poetical fame which, in the progress of his career, he +afterward acquired, greatly contributed to ennoble the stage and to +bring the player's profession into better repute. Even at a very early +age he endeavored to distinguish himself as a poet in other walks than +those of the stage, as is proved by his juvenile poems of _Adonis and +Lucrece_. He quickly rose to be a sharer or joint proprietor, and also +manager, of the theatre for which he wrote. That he was not admitted +to the society of persons of distinction is altogether incredible. Not +to mention many others, he found a liberal friend and kind patron in +the Earl of Southampton, the friend of the unfortunate Essex. His +pieces were not only the delight of the great public, but also in +great favor at court; the two monarchs under whose reigns he wrote +were, according to the testimony of a contemporary, quite "taken" with +him.[19] Many plays were acted at court; and Elizabeth appears herself +to have commanded the writing of more than one to be acted at her +court festivals. King James, it is well known, honored Shakespeare so +far as to write to him with his own hand. All this looks very unlike +either contempt or banishment into the obscurity of a low circle. By +his labors as a poet, player, and stage-manager, Shakespeare acquired +a considerable property, which, in the last years of his too short +life, he enjoyed in his native town in retirement and in the society +of a beloved daughter. Immediately after his death a monument was +erected over his grave, which may be considered sumptuous for those +times. + +In the midst of such brilliant success, and with such distinguished +proofs of respect and honor from his contemporaries, it would be +singular indeed if Shakespeare, notwithstanding the modesty of a great +mind, which he certainly possessed in a peculiar degree, should never +have dreamed of posthumous fame. As a profound thinker he had quite +accurately taken the measure of the circle of human capabilities, and +he could say to himself with confidence that many of his productions +would not easily be surpassed. What foundation then is there for the +contrary assertion, which would degrade the immortal artist to the +situation of a daily laborer for a rude multitude? Merely this, that +he himself published no edition of his whole works. We do not reflect +that a poet, always accustomed to labor immediately for the stage, who +has often enjoyed the triumph of overpowering assembled crowds of +spectators and drawing from them the most tumultuous applause, who the +while was not dependent on the caprice of crotchety stage directors, +but left to his own discretion to select and determine the mode of +theatrical representation, naturally cares much less for the closet of +the solitary reader. During the first formation of a national theatre, +more especially, we find frequent examples of such indifference. Of +the almost innumerable pieces of Lope de Vega, many undoubtedly were +never printed, and are consequently lost; and Cervantes did not print +his earlier dramas, though he certainly boasts of them as meritorious +works. As Shakespeare, on his retiring from the theatre, left his +manuscripts behind with his fellow-managers, he may have relied on +theatrical tradition for handing them down to posterity, which would +indeed have been sufficient for that purpose if the closing of the +theatres, under the tyrannical intolerance of the Puritans, had not +interrupted the natural order of things. We know, besides, that the +poets used then to sell the exclusive copyright of their pieces to the +theatre:[20] it is therefore not improbable that the right of property +in his unprinted pieces was no longer vested in Shakespeare, or had +not, at least, yet reverted to him. His fellow-managers entered on the +publication seven years after his death (which probably cut short his +own intention), as it would appear on their own account and for their +own advantage. + +LECTURE XXIII + +Ignorance or Learning of Shakespeare--Costume as observed by Shakespeare, +and how far necessary, or may be dispensed with in the Drama--Shakespeare +the greatest drawer of Character--Vindication of the genuineness of his +pathos--Play on words--Moral delicacy--Irony--Mixture of the Tragic and +Comic--The part of the Fool or Clown--Shakespeare's Language and +Versification. + +Our poet's want of scholarship has been the subject of endless +controversy, and yet it is surely a very easy matter to decide. +Shakespeare was poor in dead school-cram, but he possessed a rich +treasury of living and intuitive knowledge. He knew a little Latin, +and even something of Greek, though it may be not enough to read with +ease the writers in the original. With modern languages also, the +French and Italian, he had, perhaps, but a superficial acquaintance. +The general direction of his mind was not to the collection of words +but of facts. With English books, whether original or translated, he +was extensively acquainted: we may safely affirm that he had read all +that his native language and literature then contained that could be +of any use to him in his poetical avocations. He was sufficiently +intimate with mythology to employ it, in the only manner he could +wish, in the way of symbolical ornament. He had formed a correct +notion of the spirit of Ancient History, and more particularly of that +of the Romans; and the history of his own country was familiar to him +even in detail. Fortunately for him it had not as yet been treated in +a diplomatic and pragmatic spirit, but merely in the chronicle-style; +in other words, it had not yet assumed the appearance of dry +investigations respecting the development of political relations, +diplomatic negotiations, finances, etc., but exhibited a visible image +of the life and movement of an age prolific of great deeds. +Shakespeare, moreover, was a nice observer of nature; he knew the +technical language of mechanics and artisans; he seems to have been +well traveled in the interior of his own country, while of others he +inquired diligently of traveled navigators respecting their +peculiarity of climate and customs. He thus became accurately +acquainted with all the popular usages, opinions, and traditions which +could be of use in poetry. + +The proofs of his ignorance, on which the greatest stress is laid, are +a few geographical blunders and anachronisms. Because in a comedy +founded on an earlier tale, he makes ships visit Bohemia, he has been +the subject of much laughter. But I conceive that we should be very +unjust toward him, were we to conclude that he did not, as well as +ourselves, possess the useful but by no means difficult knowledge that +Bohemia is nowhere bounded by the sea. He could never, in that case, +have looked into a map of Germany, but yet describes elsewhere, with +great accuracy, the maps of both Indies, together with the discoveries +of the latest navigators.[21] In such matters Shakespeare is faithful +only to the details of the domestic stories. In the novels on which he +worked, he avoided disturbing the associations of his audience, to +whom they were known, by novelties--the correction of errors in +secondary and unimportant particulars. The more wonderful the story, +the more it ranged in a purely poetical region, which he transfers at +will to an indefinite distance. These plays, whatever names they bear, +take place in the true land of romance and in the very century of +wonderful love stories. He knew well that in the forest of Ardennes +there were neither the lions and serpents of the torrid zone, nor the +shepherdesses of Arcadia; but he transferred both to it,[22] because +the design and import of his picture required them. Here he considered +himself entitled to take the greatest liberties. He had not to do with +a hair-splitting, hypercritical age like ours, which is always seeking +in poetry for something else than poetry; his audience entered the +theatre, not to learn true chronology, geography, and natural history, +but to witness a vivid exhibition. I will undertake to prove that +Shakespeare's anachronisms are, for the most part, committed of set +purpose and deliberately. It was frequently of importance to him to +move the exhibited subjects out of the background of time and bring it +quite near us. Hence in _Hamlet_, though avowedly an old Northern +story, there runs a tone of modish society, and in every respect the +customs of the most recent period. Without those circumstantialities +it would not have been allowable to make a philosophical inquirer of +Hamlet, on which trait, however, the meaning of the whole is made to +rest. On that account he mentions his education at a university, +though, in the age of the true Hamlet of history, universities were +not in existence. He makes him study at Wittenberg, and no selection +of a place could have been more suitable. The name was very popular: +the story of _Dr. Faustus of Wittenberg_ had made it well known; it +was of particular celebrity in Protestant England, as Luther had +taught and written there shortly before, and the very name must have +immediately suggested the idea of freedom in thinking. I cannot even +consider it an anachronism that Richard the Third should speak of +Machiavelli. The word is here used altogether proverbially the +contents, at least, of the book entitled _Of the Prince_ (_Del +Principe_) have been in existence ever since the existence of tyrants; +Machiavelli was merely the first to commit them to writing. + +That Shakespeare has accurately hit the essential custom, namely, the +spirit of ages and nations, is at least acknowledged generally by the +English critics; but many sins against external costume may be easily +remarked. Yet here it is necessary to bear in mind that the Roman +pieces were acted upon the stage of that day in the European dress. +This was, it is true, still grand and splendid, not so silly and +tasteless as it became toward the end of the seventeenth century. +(Brutus and Cassius appeared in the Spanish cloak; they wore, quite +contrary to the Roman custom, the sword by their side in time of +peace, and, according to the testimony of an eye witness,[23] it was, +in the dialogue where Brutus stimulates Cassius to the conspiracy, +drawn, as if involuntarily, half out of the sheath). This does in no +way agree with our way of thinking: we are not content without the +toga. + +The present, perhaps, is not an inappropriate place for a few general +observations on costume, considered with reference to art. It has +never been more accurately observed than in the present day; art has +become a slop-shop for pedantic antiquities. This is because we live +in a learned and critical, but by no means poetical age. The ancients +before us used, when they had to represent the religions of other +nations which deviated very much from their own, to bring them into +conformity with the Greek mythology. In Sculpture, again, the same +dress, namely, the Phrygian, was adopted, once for all, for every +barbaric tribe. Not that they did not know that there were as many +different dresses as nations; but in art they merely wished to +acknowledge the great contrast between barbarian and civilized: and +this, they thought, was rendered most strikingly apparent in the +Phrygian garb. The earlier Christian painters represent the Savior, +the Virgin Mary, the Patriarchs, and the Apostles in an ideal dress, +but the subordinate actors or spectators of the action in the dresses +of their own nation and age. Here they were guided by a correct +feeling: the mysterious and sacred ought to be kept at an +awe-inspiring distance, but the human cannot be rightly understood if +seen without its usual accompaniments. In the middle ages all heroical +stories of antiquity, from Theseus and Achilles down to Alexander, +were metamorphosed into true tales of chivalry. What was related to +themselves spoke alone an intelligible language to them; of +differences and distinctions they did not care to know. In an old +manuscript of the _Iliad_, I saw a miniature illumination representing +Hector's funeral procession, where the coffin is hung with noble coats +of arms and carried into a Gothic church. It is easy to make merry +with this piece of simplicity, but a reflecting mind will see the +subject in a very different light. A powerful consciousness of the +universal validity and the solid permanency of their own manner of +being, an undoubting conviction that it has always so been and will +ever continue so to be in the world--these feelings of our ancestors +were symptoms of a fresh fulness of life; they were the marrow of +action in reality as well as in fiction. Their plain and affectionate +attachment to everything around them, handed down from their fathers, +is by no means to be confounded with the obstreperous conceit of ages +of mannerism, for they, out of vanity, introduce the fleeting modes +and fashion of the day into art, because to them everything like noble +simplicity seems boorish and rude. The latter impropriety is now +abolished: but, on the other hand, our poets and artists, if they +would hope for our approbation, must, like servants, wear the livery +of distant centuries and foreign nations. We are everywhere at home +except at home. We do ourselves the justice to allow that the present +mode of dressing, forms of politeness, etc., are altogether +unpoetical, and art is therefore obliged to beg, as an alms, a +poetical costume from the antiquaries. To that simple way of thinking, +which is merely attentive to the inward truth of the composition, +without stumbling at anachronisms or other external inconsistencies, +we cannot, alas! now return; but we must envy the poets to whom it +offered itself; it allowed them a great breadth and freedom in the +handling of their subject. + +Many things in Shakespeare must be judged of according to the above +principles, respecting the difference between the essential and the +merely learned costume. They will also in their measure admit of an +application to Calderon. + +So much with respect to the spirit of the age in which Shakespeare +lived, and his peculiar mental culture and knowledge. To me he appears +a profound artist, and not a blind and wildly luxuriant genius. I +consider, generally speaking, all that has been said on the subject a +mere fable, a blind and extravagant error. In other arts the assertion +refutes itself; for in them acquired knowledge is an indispensable +condition of clever execution. But even in such poets as are usually +given out as careless pupils of nature, devoid of art or school +discipline, I have always found, on a nearer consideration of the +works of real excellence they may have produced, even a high +cultivation of the mental powers, practice in art, and views both +worthy in themselves and maturely considered. This applies to Homer as +well as to Dante. The activity of genius is, it is true, natural to +it, and, in a certain sense, unconscious; and, consequently, the +person who possesses it is not always at the moment able to render an +account of the course which he may have pursued; but it by no means +follows that the thinking power had not a great share in it. It is +from the very rapidity and certainty of the mental process, from the +utmost clearness of understanding, that thinking in a poet is not +perceived as something abstracted, does not wear the appearance of +reflex meditation. That notion of poetical inspiration, which many +lyrical poets have brought into circulation, as if they were not in +their senses, and, like Pythia when possessed by the divinity, +delivered oracles unintelligible to themselves--this notion (a mere +lyrical invention) is least of all applicable to dramatic composition, +one of the most thoughtful productions of the human mind. It is +admitted that Shakespeare has reflected, and deeply reflected, on +character and passion, on the progress of events and human destinies, +on the human constitution, on all the things and relations of the +world; this is an admission which must be made, for one alone of +thousands of his maxims would be a sufficient refutation of any who +should attempt to deny it. So that it was only for the structure of +his own pieces that he had no thought to spare? This he left to the +dominion of chance, which blew together the atoms of Epicurus. But +supposing that, devoid of any higher ambition to approve himself to +judicious critics and posterity, and wanting in that love of art which +longs for self-satisfaction in the perfection of its works, he had +merely labored to please the unlettered crowd; still this very object +alone and the pursuit of theatrical effect would have led him to +bestow attention to the structure and adherence of his pieces. For +does not the impression of a drama depend in an especial manner on the +relation of the parts to one another? And, however beautiful a scene +may be in itself, if yet it be at variance with what the spectators +have been led to expect in its particular place, so as to destroy the +interest which they had hitherto felt, will it not be at once +reprobated by all who possess plain common sense and give themselves +up to nature? The comic intermixtures may be considered merely as a +sort of interlude, designed to relieve the straining of the mind after +the stretch of the more serious parts, so long as no better purpose +can be found in them; but in the progress of the main action, in the +concatenation of the events, the poet must, if possible, display even +more expenditure of thought than in the composition of individual +character and situations, otherwise he would be like the conductor of +a puppet-show who has so entangled his wires that the puppets receive +from their mechanism quite different movements from those which he +actually intended. + +The English critics are unanimous in their praise of the truth and +uniform consistency of his characters, of his heartrending pathos, and +his comic wit. Moreover, they extol the beauty and sublimity of his +separate descriptions, images, and expressions. This last is the most +superficial and cheap mode of criticising works of art. Johnson +compares him who should endeavor to recommend this poet by passages +unconnectedly torn from his works, to the pedant in Hierocles, who +exhibited a brick as a sample of his house. And yet how little, and +how very unsatisfactorily does he himself speak of the pieces +considered as a whole! Let any man, for instance, bring together the +short characters which he gives at the close of each play, and see if +the aggregate will amount to that sum of admiration which he himself, +at his outset, has stated as the correct standard for the appreciation +of the poet. It was, generally speaking, the prevailing tendency of +the time which preceded our own, and which has showed itself +particularly in physical science, to consider everything having life +as a mere accumulation of dead parts, to separate what exists only in +connection and cannot otherwise be conceived, instead of penetrating +to the central point and viewing all the parts as so many irradiations +from it. Hence nothing is so rare as a critic who can elevate himself +to the comprehensive contemplation of a work of art. Shakespeare's +compositions, from the very depth of purpose displayed in them, have +been especially liable to the misfortune of being misunderstood. +Besides, this prosaic species of criticism requires always that the +poetic form should be applied to the details of execution; but when +the plan of the piece is concerned, it never looks for more than the +logical connection of causes and effects, or some partial and trite +moral by way of application; and all that cannot be reconciled +therewith is declared superfluous, or even a pernicious appendage. On +these principles we must even strike out from the Greek tragedies most +of the choral songs, which also contribute nothing to the development +of the action, but are merely an harmonious echo of the impressions +the poet aims at conveying. In this they altogether mistake the rights +of poetry and the nature of the romantic drama, which, for the very +reason that it is and ought to be picturesque, requires richer +accompaniments and contrasts for its main groups. In all Art and +Poetry, but more especially in the romantic, the Fancy lays claims to +be considered as an independent mental power governed according to its +own laws. + +In an essay on _Romeo and Juliet_,[24] written a number of years ago, +I went through the whole of the scenes in their order and demonstrated +the inward necessity of each with reference to the whole; I showed why +such a particular circle of characters and relations was placed around +the two lovers; I explained the signification of the mirth here and +there scattered, and justified the use of the occasional heightening +given to the poetical colors. From all this it seemed to follow +unquestionably that, with the exception of a few criticisms, now +become unintelligible or foreign to the present taste (imitations of +the tone of society of that day), nothing could be taken away, nothing +added, nothing otherwise arranged, without mutilating and disfiguring +the perfect work. I would readily undertake to do the same for all the +pieces of Shakespeare's maturer years, but to do this would require a +separate book. Here I am reduced to confine my observations to tracing +his great designs with a rapid pencil; but still I must previously be +allowed to deliver my sentiments in a general manner on the subject of +his most eminent peculiarities. + +Shakespeare's knowledge of mankind has become proverbial: in this his +superiority is so great that he has justly been called the master of +the human heart. A readiness to remark the mind's fainter and +involuntary utterances, and the power to express with certainty the +meaning of these signs, as determined by experience and reflection, +constitute "the observer of men;" but tacitly to draw from these still +further conclusions and to arrange the separate observations according +to grounds of probability into a just and valid combination--this, it +may be said, is to know men. The distinguishing property of the +dramatic poet who is great in characterization, is something +altogether different here, and which, take it which way we will, +either includes in it this readiness and this acuteness, or dispenses +with both. It is the capability of transporting himself so completely +into every situation, even the most unusual, that he is enabled, as +plenipotentiary of the whole human race, without particular +instructions for each separate case, to act and speak in the name of +every individual. It is the power of endowing the creatures of his +imagination with such self-existent energy that they afterward act in +each conjuncture according to general laws of nature: the poet, in his +dreams, institutes, as it were, experiments which are received with as +much authority as if they had been made on waking objects. The +inconceivable element herein, and what moreover can never be learned, +is, that the characters appear neither to do nor to say anything on +the spectator's account merely; and yet that the poet, simply by means +of the exhibition, and without any subsidiary explanation, +communicates to his audience the gift of looking into the inmost +recesses of their minds. Hence Goethe has ingeniously compared +Shakespeare's characters to watches with crystalline plates and cases, +which, while they point out the hours as correctly as other watches, +enable us at the same time to perceive the inward springs whereby all +this is accomplished. + +Nothing, however, is more foreign to Shakespeare than a certain +anatomical style of exhibition, which laboriously enumerates all the +motives by which a man is determined to act in this or that particular +manner. This rage of supplying motives, the mania of so many modern +historians, might be carried at length to an extent which would +abolish everything like individuality, and resolve all character into +nothing but the effect of foreign or external influences, whereas we +know that it often announces itself most decidedly in earliest +infancy. After all, a man acts so because he is so. And what each man +is, that Shakespeare reveals to us most immediately: he demands and +obtains our belief even for what is singular, and deviates from the +ordinary course of nature. Never perhaps was there so comprehensive a +talent for characterization as Shakespeare. It not only grasps every +diversity of rank, age, and sex, down to the lispings of infancy; not +only do the king and the beggar, the hero and the pickpocket, the sage +and the idiot, speak and act with equal truthfulness; not only does he +transport himself to distant ages and foreign nations, and portray +with the greatest accuracy (a few apparent violations of costume +excepted) the spirit of the ancient Romans, of the French in the wars +with the English, of the English themselves during a great part of +their history, of the Southern Europeans (in the serious part of many +comedies), the cultivated society of the day, and the rude barbarism +of a Norman fore-time; his human characters have not only such depth +and individuality that they do not admit of being classed under common +names, and are inexhaustible even in conception: no, this Prometheus +not merely forms men, he opens the gates of the magical world of +spirits, calls up the midnight ghost, exhibits before us the witches +with their unhallowed rites, peoples the air with sportive fairies and +sylphs; and these beings, though existing only in the imagination, +nevertheless possess such truth and consistency that even with such +misshapen abortions as Caliban, he extorts the assenting conviction +that, were there such beings, they would so conduct themselves. In a +word, as he carries a bold and pregnant fancy into the kingdom of +nature, on the other hand he carries nature into the region of fancy +which lie beyond the confines of reality. We are lost in astonishment +at the close intimacy he brings us into with the extraordinary, the +wonderful, and the unheard-of. + +Pope and Johnson appear strangely to contradict each other, when the +first says, "all the characters of Shakespeare are individuals," and +the second, "they are species." And yet perhaps these opinions may +admit of reconciliation. Pope's expression is unquestionably the more +correct. A character which should be merely a personification of a +naked general idea could neither exhibit any great depth nor any great +variety. The names of genera and species are well known to be merely +auxiliaries for the understanding, that we may embrace the infinite +variety of nature in a certain order. The characters which Shakespeare +has so thoroughly delineated have undoubtedly a number of individual +peculiarities, but at the same time they possess a significance which +is not applicable to them alone: they generally supply materials for a +profound theory of their most prominent and distinguishing property. +But even with the above correction, this opinion must still have its +limitations. Characterization is merely one ingredient of the dramatic +art, and not dramatic poetry itself. It would be improper in the +extreme, if the poet were to draw our attention to superfluous traits +of character at a time when it ought to be his endeavor to produce +other impressions. Whenever the musical or the fanciful preponderates, +the characteristical necessarily falls into the background. Hence many +of the figures of Shakespeare exhibit merely external designations, +determined by the place which they occupy in the whole: they are like +secondary persons in a public procession, to whose physiognomy we +seldom pay much attention; their only importance is derived from the +solemnity of their dress and the duty in which they are engaged. +Shakespeare's messengers, for instance, are for the most part mere +messengers, and yet not common, but poetical messengers: the message +which they have to bring is the soul which suggests to them their +language. Other voices, too, are merely raised to pour forth these as +melodious lamentations or rejoicings, or to dwell in reflection on +what has taken place; and in a serious drama without chorus this must +always be more or less the case, if we would not have it prosaic. + +If Shakespeare deserves our admiration for his characters, he is +equally deserving of it for his exhibition of passion, taking this +word in its widest signification, as including every mental condition, +every tone, from indifference or familiar mirth to the wildest rage +and despair. He gives us the history of minds; he lays open to us, in +a single word, a whole series of their anterior states. His passions +do not stand at the same height, from first to last, as is the case +with so many tragic poets, who, in the language of Lessing, are +thorough masters of the legal style of love. He paints, with +inimitable veracity, the gradual advance from the first origin; "he +gives," as Lessing says, "a living picture of all the slight and +secret artifices by which a feeling steals into our souls, of all the +imperceptible advantages which it there gains, of all the stratagems +by which it makes every other passion subservient to itself, till it +becomes the sole tyrant of our desires and our aversions." Of all the +poets, perhaps, he alone has portrayed the mental diseases, +melancholy, delirium, lunacy, with such inexpressible and, in every +respect, definite truth, that the physician may enrich his +observations from them in the same manner as from real cases. + +And yet Johnson has objected to Shakespeare that his pathos is not +always natural and free from affectation. There are, it is true, +passages, though comparatively speaking very few, where his poetry +exceeds the bounds of actual dialogue, where a too soaring +imagination, a too luxuriant wit, rendered a complete dramatic +forgetfulness of himself impossible. With this exception, the censure +originated in a fanciless way of thinking, to which everything appears +unnatural that does not consort with its own tame insipidity. Hence an +idea has been formed of simple and natural pathos, which consists in +exclamations destitute of imagery and nowise elevated above everyday +life. But energetical passions electrify all the mental powers, and +will consequently, in highly-favored natures, give utterance to +themselves in ingenious and figurative expressions. It has been often +remarked that indignation makes a man witty; and as despair +occasionally breaks out into laughter, it may sometimes also give vent +to itself in antithetical comparisons. + +Besides, the rights of the poetical form have not been duly weighed. +Shakespeare, who was always sure of his power to excite, when he +wished, sufficiently powerful emotions, has occasionally, by indulging +in a freer play of fancy, purposely tempered the impressions when too +painful, and immediately introduced a musical softening of our +sympathy.[25] He had not those rude ideas of his art which many +moderns seem to have, as if the poet, like the clown in the proverb, +must strike twice on the same place. An ancient rhetorician delivered +a caution against dwelling too long on the excitation of pity; for +nothing, he said, dries so soon as tears; and Shakespeare acted +conformably to this ingenious maxim without having learned it. The +paradoxical assertion of Johnson that "Shakespeare had a greater +talent for comedy than tragedy, and that in the latter he has +frequently displayed an affected tone," is scarcely deserving of +lengthy notice. For its refutation, it is unnecessary to appeal to the +great tragical compositions of the poet, which, for overpowering +effect, leave far behind them almost everything that the stage has +seen besides; a few of their less celebrated scenes would be quite +sufficient. What to many readers might lend an appearance of truth to +this assertion are the verbal witticisms, that playing upon words, +which Shakespeare not unfrequently introduces into serious and sublime +passages and even into those also of a peculiarly pathetic nature. + +I have already stated the point of view in which we ought to consider +this sportive play upon words. I shall here, therefore, merely deliver +a few observations respecting the playing upon words in general, and +its poetical use. A thorough investigation would lead us too far from +our subject, and too deeply into considerations on the essence of +language, and its relation to poetry, or rhyme, etc. + +There is in the human mind a desire that language should exhibit the +object which it denotes, sensibly, by its very sound, which may be +traced even as far back as in the first origin of poetry. As, in the +shape in which language comes down to us, this is seldom perceptibly +the case, an imagination which has been powerfully excited is fond of +laying hold of any congruity in sound which may accidentally offer +itself, that by such means he may, for the nonce, restore the lost +resemblance between the word and the thing. For example, how common +was it and is it to seek in the name of a person, however arbitrarily +bestowed, a reference to his qualities and fortunes--to convert it +purposely into a significant name. Those who cry out against the play +upon words as an unnatural and affected invention, only betray their +own ignorance of original nature. A great fondness for it is always +evinced among children, as well as with nations of simple manners, +among whom correct ideas of the derivation and affinity of words have +not yet been developed, and do not, consequently, stand in the way of +this caprice. In Homer we find several examples of it; the Books of +Moses, the oldest written memorial of the primitive world, are, as is +well known, full of them. On the other hand, poets of a very +cultivated taste, like Petrarch, or orators, like Cicero, have +delighted in them. Whoever, in _Richard the Second_, is disgusted with +the affecting play of words of the dying John of Gaunt on his own +name, should remember that the same thing occurs in the _Ajax_ of +Sophocles. We do not mean to say that all playing upon words is on all +occasions to be justified. This must depend on the disposition of +mind, whether it will admit of such a play of fancy, and whether the +sallies, comparisons, and allusions, which lie at the bottom of them, +possess internal solidity. Yet we must not proceed upon the principle +of trying how the thought appears after it is deprived of the +resemblance in sound, any more than we are to endeavor to feel the +charm of rhymed versification after depriving it of its rhyme. The +laws of good taste on this subject must, moreover, vary with the +quality of the languages. In those which possess a great number of +homonymes, that is, words possessing the same, or nearly the same, +sound, though quite different in their derivation and signification, +it is almost more difficult to avoid, than to fall on such a verbal +play. It has, however, been feared, lest a door might be opened to +puerile witticism, if they were not rigorously proscribed. But I +cannot, for my part, find that Shakespeare had such an invincible and +immoderate passion for this verbal witticism. It is true, he sometimes +makes a most lavish use of this figure; at others, he has employed it +very sparingly; and at times (for example, in _Macbeth_) I do not +believe a vestige of it is to be found. Hence, in respect to the use +or the rejection of the play upon words, he must have been guided by +the measure of the objects and the different style in which they +required to be treated, and probably have followed here, as in +everything else, principles which, fairly examined, will bear a strict +examination. + +The objection that Shakespeare wounds our feelings by the open display +of the most disgusting moral odiousness, unmercifully harrows up the +mind, and tortures even our eyes by the exhibition of the most +insupportable and hateful spectacles, is one of greater and graver +importance. He has, in fact, never varnished over wild and +bloodthirsty passions with a pleasing exterior--never clothed crime +and want of principle with a false show of greatness of soul; and in +that respect he is every way deserving of praise. Twice he has +portrayed downright villains, and the masterly way in which he has +contrived to elude impressions of too painful a nature may be seen in +Iago and Richard the Third. I allow that the reading, and still more +the sight, of some of his pieces, is not advisable to weak nerves, any +more than was the _Eumenides_ of AEschylus; but is the poet, who can +reach an important object only by a bold and hazardous daring, to be +checked by considerations for such persons? If the effeminacy of the +present day is to serve as a general standard of what tragical +composition may properly exhibit to human nature, we shall be forced +to set very narrow limits indeed to art, and the hope of anything like +powerful effect must at once and forever be renounced. If we wish to +have a grand purpose, we must also wish to have the grand means, and +our nerves ought in some measure to accommodate themselves to painful +impressions, if, by way of requital, our mind is thereby elevated and +strengthened. The constant reference to a petty and puny race must +cripple the boldness of the poet. Fortunately for his art, Shakespeare +lived in an age extremely susceptible of noble and tender impressions, +but which had yet inherited enough of the firmness of a vigorous olden +time not to shrink with dismay from every strong and forcible +painting. We have lived to see tragedies of which the catastrophe +consists in the swoon of an enamored princess: if Shakespeare falls +occasionally into the opposite extreme, it is a noble error, +originating in the fulness of a gigantic strength. And this tragical +Titan, who storms the heavens and threatens to tear the world off its +hinges, who, more terrible than AEschylus, makes our hair stand on end +and congeals our blood with horror, possessed at the same time the +insinuating loveliness of the sweetest poesy; he toys with love like a +child, and his songs die away on the ear like melting sighs. He unites +in his soul the utmost elevation and the utmost depth; and the most +opposite and even apparently irreconcilable properties subsist in him +peaceably together. The world of spirits and nature have laid all +their treasures at his feet: in strength a demi-god, in profundity of +view a prophet, in all-seeing wisdom a guardian spirit of a higher +order, he lowers himself to mortals as if unconscious of his +superiority, and is as open and unassuming as a child. + +If the delineation of all his characters, separately considered, +is inimitably bold and correct, he surpasses even himself in so +combining and contrasting them that they serve to bring out one +anothers' peculiarities. This is the very perfection of dramatic +characterization: for we can never estimate a man's true worth if we +consider him altogether abstractedly by himself; we must see him in +his relations with others; and it is here that most dramatic poets are +deficient. Shakespeare makes each of his principal characters the +glass in which the others are reflected, and by like means enables us +to discover what could not be immediately revealed to us. What in +others is most profound, is with him but surface. Ill-advised should +we be were we always to take men's declarations respecting themselves +and others for sterling coin. Ambiguity of design with much propriety +he makes to overflow with the most praiseworthy principles; and sage +maxims are not infrequently put in the mouth of stupidity, to show how +easily such commonplace truisms may be acquired. Nobody ever painted +so truthfully as he has done the facility of self-deception, the half +self-conscious hypocrisy toward ourselves, with which even noble minds +attempt to disguise the almost inevitable influence of selfish motives +in human nature. This secret irony of the characterization commands +admiration as the profound abyss of acuteness and sagacity; but it is +the grave of enthusiasm. We arrive at it only after we have had the +misfortune to see human nature through and through, and after no +choice remains but to adopt the melancholy truth that "no virtue or +greatness is altogether pure and genuine," or the dangerous error that +"the highest perfection is attainable." Here we therefore may perceive +in the poet himself, notwithstanding his power to excite the most +fervent emotions, a certain cool indifference, but still the +indifference of a superior mind, which has run through the whole +sphere of human existence and survived feeling. + +The irony in Shakespeare has not merely a reference to the separate +characters, but frequently to the whole of the action. Most poets who +portray human events in a narrative or dramatic form themselves take a +part, and exact from their readers a blind approbation or condemnation +of whatever side they choose to support or oppose. The more zealous +this rhetoric is, the more certainly it fails of its effect. In every +case we are conscious that the subject itself is not brought +immediately before us, but that we view it through the medium of a +different way of thinking. When, however, by a dextrous manoeuvre, the +poet allows us an occasional glance at the less brilliant reverse of +the medal, then he makes, as it were, a sort of secret understanding +with the select circle of the more intelligent of his readers or +spectators; he shows them that he had previously seen and admitted the +validity of their tacit objections; that he himself is not tied down +to the represented subject, but soars freely above it; and that, if he +chose, he could unrelentingly annihilate the beautiful and +irresistibly attractive scenes which his magic pen has produced. No +doubt, wherever the proper tragic enters, everything like irony +immediately ceases; but from the avowed raillery of Comedy, to the +point where the subjection of mortal beings to an inevitable destiny +demands the highest degree of seriousness, there are a multitude of +human relations which unquestionably may be considered in an ironical +view, without confounding the eternal line of separation between good +and evil. This purpose is answered by the comic characters and scenes +which are interwoven with the serious parts in most of those pieces of +Shakespeare where romantic fables or historical events are made the +subject of a noble and elevating exhibition. Frequently an intentional +parody of the serious part is not to be mistaken in them; at other +times the connection is more arbitrary and loose, and the more so, the +more marvelous the invention of the whole and the more entirely it has +become a light reveling of the fancy. The comic intervals everywhere +serve to prevent the pastime from being converted into a business, to +preserve the mind in the possession of its serenity, and to keep off +that gloomy and inert seriousness which so easily steals upon the +sentimental, but not tragical, drama. Most assuredly Shakespeare did +not intend thereby, in defiance to his own better judgment, to humor +the taste of the multitude: for in various pieces, and throughout +considerable portions of others, and especially when the catastrophe +is approaching, and the mind consequently is more on the stretch and +no longer likely to give heed to any amusement which would distract +their attention, he has abstained from all such comic intermixtures. +It was also an object with him, that the clowns or buffoons should not +occupy a more important place than that which he had assigned them: he +expressly condemns the extemporizing with which they loved to enlarge +their parts.[26] Johnson founds the justification of the species of +drama in which seriousness and mirth are mixed, on this, that in real +life the vulgar is found close to the sublime, that the merry and the +sad usually accompany and succeed each other. But it does not follow +that, because both are found together, therefore they must not be +separable in the compositions of art. The observation is in other +respects just, and this circumstance invests the poet with a power to +adopt this procedure, because everything in the drama must be +regulated by the conditions of theatrical probability; but the mixture +of such dissimilar, and apparently contradictory, ingredients, in the +same works, can be justifiable only on principles reconcilable with +the views of art which I have already described. In the dramas of +Shakespeare the comic scenes are the antechamber of the poetry, where +the servants remain; these prosaic attendants must not raise their +voices so high as to deafen the speakers in the presence-chamber; +however, in those intervals when the ideal society has retired they +deserve to be listened to; their bold raillery, their presumption of +mockery, may afford many an insight into the situation and +circumstances of their masters. + +Shakespeare's comic talent is equally wonderful with that which he has +shown in the pathetic and tragic: it stands on an equal elevation, and +possesses equal extent and profundity; in all that I have hitherto +said, I only wished to guard against admitting that the former +preponderated. He is highly inventive in comic situations and motives: +it will be hardly possible to show whence he has taken any of them, +whereas, in the serious part of his dramas, he has generally laid hold +of some well-known story. His comic characterization is equally true, +various, and profound, with his serious. So little is he disposed to +caricature, that rather, it may be said, many of his traits are almost +too nice and delicate for the stage, that they can be made available +only by a great actor and fully understood only by an acute audience. +Not only has he delineated many kinds of folly, but even of sheer +stupidity has he contrived to give a most diverting and entertaining +picture. There is also in his pieces a peculiar species of the +farcical, which apparently seems to be introduced more arbitrarily, +but which, however, is founded on imitation of some actual custom. +This is the introduction of the merrymaker, the fool with his cap and +bells and motley dress, called more commonly in England "clown," who +appears in several comedies, though not in all, but, of the tragedies, +in _Lear_ alone, and who generally merely exercises his wit in +conversation with the principal persons, though he is also sometimes +incorporated into the action. In those times it was not only usual for +princes to have their court fools, but many distinguished families, +among their other retainers, kept such an exhilarating house-mate as a +good antidote against the insipidity and wearisomeness of ordinary +life, and as a welcome interruption of established formalities. Great +statesmen, and even ecclesiastics, did not consider it beneath their +dignity to recruit and solace themselves after important business with +the conversation of their fools; the celebrated Sir Thomas More had +his fool painted along with himself by Holbein. Shakespeare appears to +have lived immediately before the time when the custom began to be +abolished; in the English comic authors who succeeded him the clown is +no longer to be found. The dismissal of the fool has been extolled as +a proof of refinement; and our honest forefathers have been pitied for +taking delight in such a coarse and farcical amusement. For my part, I +am rather disposed to believe that the practice was dropped from the +difficulty in finding fools able to do full justice to their +parts:[27] on the other hand, reason, with all its conceit of itself, +has become too timid to tolerate such bold irony; it is always careful +lest the mantle of its gravity should be disturbed in any of its +folds; and rather than allow a privileged place to folly beside +itself, it has unconsciously assumed the part of the ridiculous; but, +alas! a heavy and cheerless ridicule.[28] It would be easy to make a +collection of the excellent sallies and biting sarcasms which have +been preserved of celebrated court fools. It is well known that they +frequently told such truths to princes as are never now told to +them.[29] Shakespeare's fools, along with somewhat of an overstraining +for wit, which cannot altogether be avoided when wit becomes a +separate profession, have for the most part an incomparable humor and +an infinite abundance of intellect, enough indeed to supply a whole +host of ordinary wise men. + +I have still a few observations to make on the diction and +versification of our poet. The language is here and there somewhat +obsolete, but on the whole much less so than in most of the +contemporary writers--a sufficient proof of the goodness of his +choice. Prose had as yet been but little cultivated, as the learned +generally wrote in Latin--a favorable circumstance for the dramatic +poet; for what has he to do with the scientific language of books? He +had not only read, but studied, the earlier English poets; but he drew +his language immediately from life itself, and he possessed a masterly +skill in blending the dialogical element with the highest poetical +elevation. I know not what certain critics mean, when they say that +Shakespeare is frequently ungrammatical. To make good their assertion, +they must prove that similar constructions never occur in his +contemporaries, the direct contrary of which can, however, be easily +shown. In no language is everything determined on principle; much is +always left to the caprice of custom, and if this has since changed, +is the poet to be made answerable for it? The English language had not +then attained to that correct insipidity which has been introduced +into the more recent literature of the country, to the prejudice, +perhaps, of its originality. As a field when first brought under the +plough produces, along with the fruitful shoots, many luxuriant weeds, +so the poetical diction of the day ran occasionally into extravagance, +but an extravagance originating in the exuberance of its vigor. We may +still perceive traces of awkwardness, but nowhere of a labored and +spiritless display of art. In general, Shakespeare's style yet remains +the very best model, both in the vigorous and sublime, and the +pleasing and tender. In his sphere he has exhausted all the means and +appliances of language. On all he has impressed the stamp of his +mighty spirit. His images and figures, in their unsought, nay, +uncapricious singularity, have often a sweetness altogether peculiar. +He becomes occasionally obscure from too great fondness for compressed +brevity; but still, the labor of poring over Shakespeare's lines will +invariably meet an ample requital. + +The verse in all his plays is generally the rhymeless iambic of ten or +eleven syllables, only occasionally intermixed with rhymes, but more +frequently alternating with prose. No one piece is written entirely in +prose; for even in those which approach the most to the pure Comedy, +there is always something added which gives them a more poetical hue +than usually belongs to this species. Many scenes are wholly in prose, +in others verse and prose succeed each other alternately. This can +appear an impropriety only in the eyes of those who are accustomed to +consider the lines of a drama like so many soldiers drawn up rank and +file on a parade, with the same uniform, arms, and accoutrements, so +that when we see one or two we may represent to ourselves thousands as +being every way like them. + +In the use of verse and prose Shakespeare observes very nice +distinctions according to the ranks of the speakers, but still more +according to their characters and disposition of mind. A noble +language, elevated above the usual tone, is suitable only to a certain +decorum of manners, which is thrown over both vices and virtues and +which does not even wholly disappear amidst the violence of passion. +If this is not exclusively possessed by the higher ranks, it still, +however, belongs naturally more to them than to the lower; and +therefore, in Shakespeare, dignity and familiarity of language, +poetry, and prose, are in this manner distributed among the +characters. Hence his tradesmen, peasants, soldiers, sailors, +servants, but more especially his fools and clowns, speak, almost +without exception, in the tone of their actual life. However, inward +dignity of sentiment, wherever it is possessed, invariably displays +itself with a nobleness of its own, and stands not in need, for that +end, of the artificial elegancies of education and custom; it is a +universal right of man, of the highest as well as the lowest; and +hence also, in Shakespeare, the nobility of nature and morality is +ennobled above the artificial nobility of society. Not infrequently +also he makes the very same persons express themselves at times in the +sublimest language, and at others in the lowest; and this inequality +is in like manner founded in truth. Extraordinary situations, which +intensely occupy the head and throw mighty passions into play, give +elevation and tension to the soul: it collects all its powers and +exhibits an unusual energy, both in its operations and in its +communications by language. On the other hand, even the greatest men +have their moments of remissness, when to a certain degree they forget +the dignity of their character in unreserved relaxation. This very +tone of mind is necessary before they can receive amusement from the +jokes of others, or, what surely cannot dishonor even a hero, from +passing jokes themselves. Let any person, for example, go carefully +through the part of Hamlet. How bold and powerful the language of his +poetry when he conjures the ghost of his father, when he spurs himself +on to the bloody deed, when he thunders into the soul of his mother! +How he lowers his tone down to that of common life, when he has to do +with persons whose station demands from him such a line of conduct; +when he makes game of Polonius and the courtiers, instructs the +player, and even enters into the jokes of the grave-digger. Of all the +poet's serious leading characters there is none so rich in wit and +humor as Hamlet; hence he it is of all of them that makes the greatest +use of the familiar style. Others, again, never do fall into it; +either because they are constantly surrounded by the pomp of rank, or +because a uniform seriousness is natural to them; or, in short, +because through the whole piece they are under the dominion of a +passion calculated to excite, and not, like the sorrow of Hamlet, to +depress the mind. The choice of the one form or the other is +everywhere so appropriate, and so much founded in the nature of the +thing, that I will venture to assert, even where the poet in the very +same speech makes the speaker leave prose for poetry, or the converse, +this could not be altered without danger of injuring or destroying +some beauty or other. The blank verse has this advantage, that its +tone may be elevated or lowered; it admits of approximation to the +familiar style of conversation, and never forms such an abrupt +contrast as that, for example, between plain prose and the rhyming +Alexandrines. + +Shakespeare's iambics are sometimes highly harmonious and +full-sounding; always varied and suitable to the subject, at one time +distinguished by ease and rapidity, at another they move along with +ponderous energy. They never fall out of the dialogical character, +which may always be traced even in the continued discourses of +individuals, excepting when the latter run into the lyrical. They are +a complete model of the dramatic use of this species of verse, which, +in English, since Milton, has been also used in epic poetry; but in +the latter it has assumed a quite different turn. Even the +irregularities of Shakespeare's versification are expressive; a verse +broken off, or a sudden change of rhythmus, coincides with some pause +in the progress of the thought, or the entrance of another mental +disposition. As a proof that he purposely violated the mechanical +rules, from a conviction that a too symmetrical versification does not +suit with the drama, and, on the stage has in the long run a tendency +to lull the spectators to sleep, we may observe that his earlier +pieces are the most diligently versified, and that, in the later +works, when through practice he must have acquired a greater facility, +we find the strongest deviations from the regular structure of the +verse. As it served with him merely to make the poetical elevation +perceptible, he therefore claimed the utmost possible freedom in the +use of it. + +The views or suggestions of feeling by which he was guided in the use +of rhyme may likewise be traced with almost equal certainty. Not +infrequently scenes, or even single speeches, close with a few rhyming +lines, for the purpose of more strongly marking the division, and of +giving it more rounding. This was injudiciously imitated by the +English tragic poets of a later date; they suddenly elevated the tone +in the rhymed lines, as if the person began all at once to speak in +another language. The practice was welcomed by the actors from its +serving as a signal for clapping when they made their exit. In +Shakespeare, on the other hand, the transitions are more easy: all +changes of forms are brought about insensibly, and as if of +themselves. Moreover, he is generally fond of heightening a series of +ingenious and antithetical sayings by the use of rhyme. We find other +passages in continued rhyme, where solemnity and theatrical pomp were +suitable, as, for instance, in the mask,[30] as it is called, in _The +Tempest_ and in the play introduced in _Hamlet_. Of other pieces, for +instance, the _Midsummer Night's Dream_, and _Romeo and Juliet_, the +rhymes form a considerable part; either because he may have wished to +give them a glowing color, or because the characters appropriately +utter in a more musical tone their complaints or suits of love. In +these cases he has even introduced rhymed strophes, which approach to +the form of the sonnet, then usual in England. The assertion of +Malone, that Shakespeare in his youth was fond of rhyme, but that he +afterward rejected it, is sufficiently refuted by his own chronology +of the poet's works. In some of the earliest, for instance in the +second and third part of _Henry the Sixth_, there are hardly any +rhymes; in what is stated to be his last piece, _Twelfth Night, or +What You Will_, and in _Macbeth_, which is proved to have been +composed under the reign of King James, we find them in no +inconsiderable number. Even in the secondary matters of form +Shakespeare was not guided by humor and accident, but, like a genuine +artist, acted invariably on good and solid grounds. This we might also +show of the kinds of verse which he least frequently used (for +instance, of the rhyming verses of seven and eight syllables), were we +not afraid of dwelling too long on merely technical peculiarities. + +In England the manner of handling rhyming verse, and the opinion as to +its harmony and elegance, have, in the course of two centuries, +undergone a much greater change than is the case with the rhymeless +iambic or blank verse. In the former, Dryden and Pope have become +models; these writers have communicated the utmost smoothness to +rhyme, but they have also tied it down to a harmonious uniformity. A +foreigner, to whom antiquated and new are the same, may perhaps feel +with greater freedom the advantages of the more ancient manner. +Certain it is, the rhyme of the present day, from the too great +confinement of the couplet, is unfit for the drama. We must not +estimate the rhyme of Shakespeare by the mode of subsequent times, but +by a comparison with his contemporaries or with Spenser. The +comparison will, without doubt, turn out to his advantage. Spenser is +often diffuse; Shakespeare, though sometimes hard, is always brief and +vigorous. He has more frequently been induced by the rhyme to leave +out something necessary than to insert anything superfluous. Many of +his rhymes, however, are faultless: ingenious with attractive ease, +and rich without false brilliancy. The songs interspersed (those, I +mean, of the poet himself) are generally sweetly playful and +altogether musical; in imagination, while we merely read them, we hear +their melody. + +The whole of Shakespeare's productions bear the certain stamp of his +original genius, but yet no writer was ever further removed from +everything like a mannerism derived from habit or personal +peculiarities. Rather is he, such is the diversity of tone and color +which vary according to the quality of his subjects he assumes, a very +Proteus. Each of his compositions is like a world of its own, moving +in its own sphere. They are works of art, finished in one pervading +style, which revealed the freedom and judicious choice of their +author. If the formation of a work throughout, even in its minutest +parts, in conformity with a leading idea; if the domination of one +animating spirit over all the means of execution, deserves the name of +correctness (and this, excepting in matters of grammar, is the only +proper sense of the term); we shall then, after allowing to +Shakespeare all the higher qualities which demand our admiration, be +also compelled, in most cases, to concede to him the title of a +correct poet. + +It would be in the highest degree instructive to follow, if we could, +in his career step by step, an author who at once founded and carried +his art to perfection, and to go through his works in the order of +time. But, with the exception of a few fixed points, which at length +have been obtained, all the necessary materials for this are still +wanting. The diligent Malone has, indeed, made an attempt to arrange +the plays of Shakespeare in chronological order; but he himself gives +out only the result of his labors as hypothetical, and it could not +possibly be attended with complete success, since he excluded from his +inquiry a considerable number of pieces which have been ascribed to +the poet, though rejected as spurious by all the editors since Rowe, +but which, in my opinion, must, if not wholly, at least in great +measure be attributed to him. + + + + +_FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL_ + + * * * * * + +INTRODUCTION TO LUCINDA + +By CALVIN THOMAS + +Professor of Germanic Languages and Literatures, Columbia University + +Friedrich Schlegel's _Lucinda_, published in 1799, was an explosion of +youthful radicalism--a rather violent explosion which still +reverberates in the histories of German Romanticism. It is a book +about the metaphysics of love and marriage, the emancipation of the +flesh, the ecstasies and follies of the enamored state, the nature and +the rights of woman, and other such matters of which the world was +destined to hear a great deal during the nineteenth century. Not by +accident, but by intention, the little book was shocking, formless, +incoherent--a riot of the ego without beginning, middle, or end. Now +and then it passed the present limits of the printable in its +exploitation of the improper and the unconventional. + +Yet the book was by no means the wanton freak of a prurient +imagination; it had a serious purpose and was believed by its author +to present the essentials of a new and beautiful theory of life, art +and religion. The great Schleiermacher, one of the profoundest of +German theologians and an eloquent friend of religion, called +_Lucinda_ a "divine book" and its author a "priest of love and +wisdom." "Everything in this work," he declared, "is at once human and +divine; a magic air of divinity rises from its deep springs and +permeates the whole temple." Today no man in his senses would praise +the book in such terms. Yet, with all its crudities of style and its +aberrations of taste, _Lucinda_ reveals, not indeed the whole form and +pressure of the epoch that gave it birth, but certain very interesting +aspects of it. + +[Illustration: #FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL# E. HADER] + +Then, too, it marks a curious stage in the development of the +younger Schlegel, a really profound thinker and one of the notable men +of his day. This explains why a considerable portion of the much +discussed book is here presented for the first time in an English +dress. + +The earliest writings of Friedrich Schlegel--he was born in +1772--relate to Greek literature, a field which he cultivated with +enthusiasm and with ample learning. In particular he was interested in +what his Greek poets and philosophers had to say of the position of +women in society; of the _hetairai_ as the equal and inspiring +companions of men; of a more or less refined sexual love, untrammeled +by law and convention, as the basis of a free, harmonious and +beautiful existence. Among other things, he seems to have been much +impressed by Plato's notion that the _genus homo_ was one before it +broke up into male and female, and that sexual attraction is a desire +to restore the lost unity. In a very learned essay _On Diotima_, +published in 1797--Diotima is the woman of whose relation to Socrates +we get a glimpse in Plato's _Symposium_--there is much that +foreshadows _Lucinda_. Let two or three sentences suffice. "What is +uglier than the overloaded femininity, what is more loathesome than +the exaggerated masculinity, that rules in our customs, our opinions, +and even in our better art?" "Precisely the tyrannical vehemence of +the man, the flabby self-surrender of the woman, is in itself an ugly +exaggeration." "Only the womanhood that is independent, only the +manhood that is gentle, is good and beautiful." + +In 1796 Friedrich Schlegel joined his brother at Jena, where Fichte +was then expounding his philosophy. It was a system of radical +idealism, teaching that the only reality is the absolute Ego, whose +self-assertion thus becomes the fundamental law of the world. The +Fichtean system had not yet been fully worked out in its metaphysical +bearings, but the strong and engaging personality of its author gave +it, for a little while, immense prestige and influence. To Friedrich +Schlegel it seemed the gospel of a new era sort of French Revolution +in philosophy. Indeed he proclaimed that the three greatest events of +the century were the French Revolution, Fichte's philosophy, and +Goethe's _Wilhelm Meister_. This last, which appeared in 1796 and +contained obvious elements of autobiography, together with poems and +disquisitions on this and that, was admired by him beyond all measure. +He saw in it the exemplar and the program of a wonderful new art which +he proposed to call "Romantic Poetry." + +But gray theory would never have begotten _Lucinda_. Going to Berlin +in 1797, Schlegel made the acquaintance of Dorothea Veit, daughter of +Moses Mendelsohn and wife of a Berlin banker. She was nine years his +senior. A strong attachment grew up between them, and presently the +lady was persuaded to leave her husband and become the paramour of +Schlegel. Even after the divorce was obtained Schlegel refused for +some time to be married in church, believing that he had a sort of +duty to perform in asserting the rights of passion over against social +convention. For several years the pair lived in wild wedlock before +they were regularly married. In 1808 they both joined the Catholic +Church, and from that time on nothing more was heard of Friedrich +Schlegel's radicalism. He came to hold opinions which were for the +most part the exact opposite of those he had held in his youth. The +vociferous friend of individual liberty became a reactionary champion +of authority. Of course he grew ashamed of _Lucinda_ and excluded it +from his collected works. + +Such was the soil in which the naughty book grew. It was an era of lax +ideas regarding the marriage tie. Wilhelm Schlegel married a divorced +woman who was destined in due time to transfer herself without legal +formalities to Schelling. Goethe had set the example by his conscience +marriage with Christiane Vulpius. It remains only to be said that the +most of Friedrich Schlegel's intimates, including his brother Wilhelm, +advised against the publication of _Lucinda_. But here, as in the +matter of his marriage, the author felt that he had a duty to +perform: it was necessary to declare independence of Mrs. Grundy's +tyranny and shock people for their own good. But the reader of today +will feel that the worst shortcomings of the book are not its +immoralities, but its sins against art. + +It will be observed that while _Lucinda_ was called by its author a +"novel," it hardly deserves that name. There is no story, no +development of a plot. The book consists of disconnected glimpses in +the form of letters, disquisitions, rhapsodies, conversations, etc., +each with a more or less suggestive heading. Two of these +sections--one cannot call them chapters--are omitted in the +translation, namely, "Allegory of Impudence" and, "Apprenticeship of +Manhood." + + + + +LUCINDA (1799) + +By FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL BERNARD THOMAS + +PROLOGUE + +Smiling with emotion Petrarch opens the collection of his immortal +romanzas with a prefatory survey. The clever Boccaccio talks with +flattering courtesy to all women, both at the beginning and at the end +of his opulent book. The great Cervantes too, an old man in agony, but +still genial and full of delicate wit, drapes the motley spectacle of +his lifelike writings with the costly tapestry of a preface, which in +itself is a beautiful and romantic painting. + +Uproot a stately plant from its fertile, maternal soil, and there will +still cling lovingly to it much that can seem superfluous only to a +niggard. + +But what shall my spirit bestow upon its offspring, which, like its +parent, is as poor in poesy as it is rich in love? + +Just one word, a parting trope: It is not alone the royal eagle who +may despise the croaking of the raven; the swan, too, is proud and +takes no note of it. Nothing concerns him except to keep clean the +sheen of his white pinions. He thinks only of nestling against Leda's +bosom without hurting her, and of breathing forth into song everything +that is mortal within him. + +[Illustration: #THE CREATION# _From the Painting by Moritz von +Schwind_] + +CONFESSIONS OF AN AWKWARD MAN + +JULIUS TO LUCINDA + +Human beings and what they want and do, seemed to me, when I thought +of it, like gray, motionless figures; but in the holy solitude all +around me everything was light and color. A fresh, warm breath of life +and love fanned me, rustling and stirring in all the branches of the +verdant grove. I gazed and enjoyed it all, the rich green, the white +blossoms and the golden fruit. And in my mind's eye I saw, too, in +many forms, my one and only Beloved, now as a little girl, now as a +young lady in the full bloom and energy of love and womanhood, and now +as a dignified mother with her demure babe in her arms. I breathed the +spring and I saw clearly all about me everlasting youth. Smiling I +said to myself: "Even if this world is not the best and most useful of +places, it is certainly the most beautiful." + +From this feeling or thought nothing could have turned me, neither +general despair nor personal fear. For I believed that the deep +secrets of nature were being revealed to me; I felt that everything +was immortal and that death was only a pleasant illusion. But I really +did not think very much about it, since I was not particularly in a +mood for mental synthesis and analysis. But I gladly lost myself in +all those blendings and intertwinings of joy and pain from which +spring the spice of life and the flower of feeling--spiritual pleasure +as well as sensual bliss. A subtle fire flowed through my veins. What +I dreamed was not of kissing you, not of holding you in my arms; it +was not only the wish to relieve the tormenting sting of my desire, +and to cool the sweet fire by gratification. It was not for your lips +that I longed, or for your eyes, or for your body; no, it was a +romantic confusion of all of these things, a marvelous mingling of +memories and desires. All the mysteries of caprice in man and woman +seemed to hover about me, when suddenly in my solitude your real +presence and the glowing rapture in your face completely set me afire. +Wit and ecstasy now began their alternating play, and were the common +pulse of our united life. There was no less abandon than religion in +our embrace. I besought you to yield to my frenzy and implored you to +be insatiable. And yet with calm presence of mind I watched for the +slightest sign of joy in you, so that not one should escape me to +impair the harmony. I not only enjoyed, but I felt and enjoyed the +enjoyment. + +You are so extraordinarily clever, dearest Lucinda, that you have +doubtless long ere this begun to suspect that this is all nothing but +a beautiful dream. And so, alas, it is; and I should indeed feel very +disconsolate about it if I could not cherish the hope that at least a +part of it may soon be realized. The truth of the matter is this: Not +long ago I was standing by the window--how long I do not know, for +along with the other rules of reason and morality, I completely forgot +about the lapse of time. Well, I was standing by the window and +looking out into the open; the morning certainly deserves to be called +beautiful, the air is still and quite warm, and the verdure here +before me is fresh. And even as the wide land undulates in hills and +dales, so the calm, broad, silvery river winds along in great bends +and sweeps, until it and the lover's fantasy, cradled upon it like the +swan, pass away into the distance and lose themselves in the +immeasurable. My vision doubtless owes the grove and its southern +color-effect to the huge mass of flowers here beside me, among which I +see a large number of oranges. All the rest is readily explained by +psychology. It was an illusion, dear friend, all an illusion, all +except that, not long ago, I was standing, by the window and doing +nothing, and that I am now sitting here and doing something--something +which is perhaps little more than nothing, perhaps even less. + +I had written thus far to you about the things I had said to myself, +when, in the midst of my tender thoughts and profound feelings about +the dramatic connection of our embraces, a coarse and unpleasant +occurrence interrupted me. I was just on the point of unfolding to you +in clear and precise periods the exact and straightforward history of +our frivolities and of my dulness. I was going to expound to you, step +by step, in accordance with natural laws, the misunderstandings that +attack the hidden centre of the loveliest existence, and to confess to +you the manifold effects of my awkwardness. I was about to describe +the apprenticeship of my manhood, a period which, taken as a whole or +in parts, I can never look back upon without a great deal of inward +amusement, a little melancholy, and considerable self-satisfaction. +Still, as a refined lover and writer, I will endeavor to refashion the +coarse occurrence and adapt it to my purpose. For me and for this +book, however, for my love of it and for its inner development, there +is no better adaptation of means to ends than this, namely, that right +at the start I begin by abolishing what we call orderly arrangement, +keep myself entirely aloof from it, frankly claiming and asserting the +right to a charming confusion. This is all the more necessary, +inasmuch as the material which our life and love offers to my spirit +and to my pen is so incessantly progressive and so inflexibly +systematic. If the form were also of that character, this, in its way, +unique letter would then acquire an intolerable unity and monotony, +and would no longer produce the desired effect, namely, to fashion and +complete a most lovely chaos of sublime harmonies and interesting +pleasures. So I use my incontestable right to a confused style by +inserting here, in the wrong place, one of the many incoherent sheets +which I once filled with rubbish, and which you, good creature, +carefully preserved without my knowing it. It was written in a mood of +impatient longing, due to my not finding you where I most surely +expected to find you--in your room, on our sofa--in the haphazard +words suggested by the pen you had lately been using. + +The selection is not difficult. For since, among the dreamy fancies +which are here confided to you in permanent letters, the recollection +of this most beautiful world is the most significant, and has a +certain sort of resemblance to what they call thought, I choose in +preference to anything else a dithyrambic fantasy on the most lovely +of situations. For once we know to a certainty that we live in a most +beautiful world, the next need is obvious, namely, to inform ourselves +fully, either through ourselves or through others, about the most +lovely situation in this most beautiful world. + + +DITHYRAMBIC FANTASY ON THE LOVELIEST OF SITUATIONS + +A big tear falls upon the holy sheet which I found here instead of +you. How faithfully and how simply you have sketched it, the old and +daring idea of my dearest and most intimate purpose! In you it has +grown up, and in this mirror I do not shrink from loving and admiring +myself. Only here I see myself in harmonious completeness. For your +spirit, too, stands distinct and perfect before me, not as an +apparition which appears and fades away again, but as one of the forms +that endure forever. It looks at me joyously out of its deep eyes and +opens its arms to embrace my spirit. The holiest and most evanescent +of those delicate traits and utterances of the soul, which to one who +does not know the highest seem like bliss itself, are merely the +common atmosphere of our spiritual breath and life. + +The words are weak and vague. Furthermore, in this throng of +impressions I could only repeat anew the one inexhaustible feeling of +our original harmony. A great future beckons me on into the +immeasurable; each idea develops a countless progeny. The extremes of +unbridled gayety and of quiet presentiment live together within me. I +remember everything, even the griefs, and all my thoughts that have +been and are to be bestir themselves and arise before me. The blood +rushes wildly through my swollen veins, my mouth thirsts for the +contact of your lips, and my fancy seeks vainly among the many forms +of joy for one which might at last gratify my desire and give it rest. +And then again I suddenly and sadly bethink me of the gloomy time when +I was always waiting without hope, and madly loving without knowing +it; when my innermost being overflowed with a vague longing, which it +breathed forth but rarely in half-suppressed sighs. + +Oh, I should have thought it all a fairy-tale that there could be such +joy, such love as I now feel, and such a woman, who could be my most +tender Beloved, my best companion, and at the same time a perfect +friend. For it was in friendship especially that I sought for what I +wanted, and for what I never hoped to find in any woman. In you I +found it all, and more than I could wish for; but you are so unlike +the rest. Of what custom or caprice calls womanly, you know nothing. +The womanliness of your soul, aside from minor peculiarities, consists +in its regarding life and love as the same thing. For you all feeling +is infinite and eternal; you recognize no separations, your being is +an indivisible unity. That is why you are so serious and so joyous, +why you regard everything in such a large and indifferent way; that is +why you love me, all of me, and will surrender no part of me to the +state, to posterity, or to manly pleasures. I am all yours; we are +closest to each other and we understand each other. You accompany me +through all the stages of manhood, from the utmost wantonness to the +most refined spirituality. In you alone I first saw true pride and +true feminine humility. + +The most extreme suffering, if it is only surrounded, without +separating us, would seem to me nothing but a charming antithesis to +the sublime frivolity of our marriage. Why should we not take the +harshest whim of chance for an excellent jest and a most frolicsome +caprice, since we, like our love, are immortal? I can no longer say +_my_ love and _your_ love; they are both alike in their perfect +mutuality. Marriage is the everlasting unity and alliance of our +spirits, not only for what we call this world and that world, but for +the one, true, indivisible, nameless, endless world of our entire +being, so long as we live. Therefore, if it seemed the proper time, I +would drain with you a cup of poison, just as gladly and just as +easily as that last glass of champagne we drank together, when I said: +"And so let us drink out the rest of our lives." With these words I +hurriedly quaffed the wine, before its noble spirit ceased to sparkle. +And so I say again, let us live and love. I know you would not wish to +survive me; you would rather follow your dying husband into his +coffin. Gladly and lovingly would you descend into the burning abyss, +even as the women of India do, impelled by a mad law, the cruel, +constraining purpose of which desecrates and destroys the most +delicate sanctities of the will. + +On the other side, perhaps, longing will be more completely realized. +I often wonder over it; every thought, and whatever else is fashioned +within us, seems to be complete in itself, as single and indivisible +as a person. One thing crowds out another, and that which just now was +near and present soon sinks back into obscurity. And then again come +moments of sudden and universal clarity, when several such spirits of +the inner world completely fuse together into a wonderful wedlock, and +many a forgotten bit of our ego shines forth in a new light and even +illuminates the darkness of the future with its bright lustre. As it +is in a small way, so is it also, I think, in a large way. That which +we call a life is for the complete, inner, immortal man only a single +idea, an indivisible feeling. And for him there come, too, moments of +the profoundest and fullest consciousness, when all lives fall +together and mingle and separate in a different way. The time is +coming when we two shall behold in one spirit that we are blossoms of +one plant, or petals of one flower. We shall then know with a smile +that what we now call merely hope was really memory. + +Do you know how the first seed of this idea germinated in my soul +before you and took root in yours? Thus does the religion of love +weave our love ever and ever more closely and firmly together, just as +a child, like an echo, doubles the happiness of its gentle parents. + +Nothing can part us; and certainly any separation would only draw me +more powerfully to you. I bethink me how at our last embrace, you +vehemently resisting, I burst into simultaneous tears and laughter. I +tried to calm myself, and in a sort of bewilderment I would not +believe that I was separated from you until the surrounding objects +convinced me of it against my will. But then my longing grew again +irresistible, until on its wings I sank back into your arms. Suppose +words or a human being to create a misunderstanding between us! The +poignant grief would be transient and quickly resolve itself into +complete harmony. How could separation separate us, when presence +itself is to us, as it were, too present? We have to cool and mitigate +the consuming fire with jests, and thus for us the most witty of the +forms and situations of joy is also the most beautiful. One among all +is at once the wittiest and the loveliest: when we exchange roles and +with childish delight try to see who can best imitate the other; +whether you succeed best with the tender vehemence of a man, or I with +the yielding devotion of a woman. But, do you know, this sweet game +has for me quite other charms than its own. It is not merely the +delight of exhaustion or the anticipation of revenge. I see in it a +wonderful and profoundly significant allegory of the development of +man and woman into complete humanity. * * * + + * * * * * + +That was my dithyrambic fantasy on the loveliest situation in the +loveliest of worlds. I know right well what you thought of it and how +you took it at that time. And I think I know just as well what you +will think of it and how you will take it here, here in this little +book, in which you expect to find genuine history, plain truth and +calm reason; yes, even morality, the charming morality of love. "How +can a man wish to write anything which it is scarcely permissible to +talk about, which ought only to be felt?" I replied: "If a man feels +it, he must wish to talk about it, and what a man wishes to talk about +he may write." + +I wanted first to demonstrate to you that there exists in the original +and essential nature of man a certain awkward enthusiasm which likes +to utter boldly that which is delicate and holy, and sometimes falls +headlong over its own honest zeal and speaks a word that is divine to +the point of coarseness. + +This apology would indeed save me, but perhaps only at the enormous +expense of my manhood itself; for whatever you may think of my manhood +in particular, you have nevertheless a great deal against the sex in +general. Meantime I will by no means make common cause with them, but +will rather excuse and defend my liberty and audacity by means of the +example of the little innocent Wilhelmina, since she too is a lady +whom I love most tenderly. So I will straightway attempt a little +sketch of her character. + +SKETCH OF LITTLE WILHELMINA + +When one regards the remarkable child, not from the viewpoint of any +one-sided theory, but, as is proper, in a large, impartial way, one +can boldly say--and it is perhaps the best thing one could possibly +say of her--that for her years she is the cleverest person of her +time. And that is indeed saying a great deal; for how seldom do we +find harmonious culture in people two years old? The strongest of the +many strong proofs of her inward perfection is her serene +self-complacency. After she has eaten she always spreads both her +little arms out on the table, and resting her cunning head on them +with amusing seriousness, she makes big eyes and casts cute glances at +the family all around her. Then she straightens up and with the most +vivid expression of irony on her face, smiles at her own cuteness and +our inferiority. She is full of buffoonery and has a nice +appreciation of it. When I imitate her gestures, she immediately +copies my imitation; thus we have created a mimic language of our own +and make each other understand by means of pantomime hieroglyphics. + +For poetry, I think, she has far more inclination than for philosophy; +so also she likes to ride better than to walk, which last she does +only in case of necessity. The ugly cacophony of our mother-tongue +here in the north melts on her tongue into the sweet and mellow +euphony of Italian and Hindu speech. She is especially fond of rhymes, +as of everything else that is beautiful; she never grows tired of +saying and singing over and over again to herself, one after the +other, all her favorite little verses--as it were, a classic selection +of her little pleasures. Poetry binds the blossoms of all things +together into a light garland, and so little Wilhelmina talks in rhyme +about regions, times, events, persons, toys and things to eat--all +mixed together in a romantic chaos, every word a picture. And she does +all that without any qualifications or artistic transitions, which +after all only aid the understanding and impede the free flight of the +fancy. + +For her fancy everything in nature is alive and animate. I often +recall with pleasure the first time she ever saw and felt of a doll. +She was not more than a year old. A divine smile lighted up her little +face, as she pressed an affectionate kiss on the painted wooden lips. +Surely there lies deep in the nature of man an impulse to eat anything +he loves, to lift to his mouth every new object and there, if +possible, reduce it to its original, constituent parts. A wholesome +thirst for knowledge impels him to seize the object, penetrate into +its interior and bite it to pieces. On the other hand, touching stops +at the surface, while grasping affords only imperfect, mediate +knowledge. Nevertheless it is a very interesting spectacle, when a +bright child catches sight of another child, to watch her feel of it +and strive to orient herself by means of those antennae of the reason. +The strange baby creeps quietly away and hides himself, while the +little philosopher follows him up and goes busily on with her manual +investigation. + +But, to be sure, mind, wit and originality are just as rare in +children as in adults. All this, however, does not belong here, and is +leading me beyond the bounds of my purpose. For this sketch proposes +merely to portray an ideal, an ideal which I would ever keep before my +eyes, so that in this little artistic volume of beautiful and elegant +philosophy I may not wander away from the delicate line of propriety; +and so that you will forgive me in advance for the audacious liberties +that I am going to take, or at least you will be able to judge them +from a higher viewpoint. + +Am I wrong, think you, in seeking for morality in children--for +delicacy and prettiness of thought and word? + +Now look! Dear little Wilhelmina often finds inexpressible delight in +lying on her back and kicking her little legs in the air, unconcerned +about her clothes or about the judgment of the world. If Wilhelmina +does that, what is there that I may not do, since I, by Heaven, am a +man and under no obligation to be more modest than this most modest of +all feminine creatures? Oh, enviable freedom from prejudice! Do you, +too, dear friend, cast it from you, all the remnants of false modesty; +just as I have often torn off your odious clothes and scattered them +about in lovely anarchy. And if, perhaps, this little romance of my +life should seem to you too wild, just think to yourself: He is only a +child--and take his innocent wantonness with motherly forbearance and +let him caress you. + +If you will not be too particular about the plausibility and inner +significance of an allegory, and are prepared for as much awkwardness +in it as one might expect in the confessions of an awkward man, +provided only that the costume is correct, I should like to relate to +you here one of my waking dreams, inasmuch as it leads to the same +result as my sketch of little Wilhelmina.[31] + +AN IDYL OF IDLENESS + +"Behold, I am my own teacher, and a god hath planted all sorts of +melodies in my soul." This I may boldly say, now that I am not talking +about the joyous science of poetry, but about the godlike art of +idleness. And with whom indeed should I rather talk and think about +idleness than with myself. So I spoke also in that immortal hour when +my guardian genius inspired me to preach the high gospel of true joy +and love: "Oh, idleness, idleness! Thou art the very soul of innocence +and inspiration. The blessed spirits do breathe thee, and blessed +indeed is he who hath and cherisheth thee, thou sacred jewel, thou +sole and only fragment of godlikeness brought forth by us from +Paradise." + +When I thus communed with myself I was sitting, like a pensive maiden +in a thoughtless romance, by the side of a brook, watching the +wavelets as they passed. They flowed by as smooth and quiet and +sentimental as if Narcissus were about to see his reflection on the +clear surface and become intoxicated with beautiful egoism. They might +also have enticed me to lose myself deeper and deeper in the inner +perspective of my mind, were not my nature so perpetually unselfish +and practical that even my speculations never concern themselves about +anything but the general good. So I fell to thinking, among other +things, while my mind was relaxed by a comfortable laziness and my +limbs by the powerful heat, of the possibility of a lasting embrace. I +thought out ways of prolonging the time of our being together and of +avoiding in the future those childishly pathetic expressions of pain +over sudden parting, and of finding pleasure, as hitherto, in the +comic side of Fate's inevitable and unchangeable decree that separate +we must. And only after the power of my reason, laboring over the +unattainableness of my ideal, broke and relaxed, did I give myself +over to a stream of thoughts. I listened eagerly to all the motley +fairy-tales with which imagination and desire, like irresistible +sirens in my breast, charmed my senses. It did not occur to me to +criticise the seductive illusion as ignoble, although I well knew that +it was for the most part a beautiful lie. The soft music of the +fantasy seemed to fill the gaps in my longing. I gratefully observed +this and resolved to repeat for us in the future by my own +inventiveness that which good fortune had given me, and to begin for +you this poem of truth. And thus the original germ of this wonderful +growth of caprice and love came into being. And just as freely as it +sprouted did I intend it should grow up and run wild; and never from +love of order and economy shall I trim off any of its profuse +abundance of superfluous leaves and shoots. + +Like a wise man of the East, I had fallen into a holy lethargy and +calm contemplation of the everlasting substances, more especially of +yours and mine. Greatness in repose, most people say, is the highest +aim of plastic art. And so, without any distinct purpose and without +any unseemly effort, I thought out and bodied forth our everlasting +substances in this dignified style. I looked back and saw how gentle +sleep overcame us in the midst of our embrace. Now and then one of us +would open an eye, smile at the sweet slumber of the other, and wake +up just enough to venture a jesting remark and a gentle caress. But +ere the wanton play thus begun was ended, we would both sink back into +the blissful lap of half-conscious self-forgetfulness. + +With the greatest indignation I then thought of the bad men who would +abolish sleep. They have probably never slept, and likewise never +lived. Why are gods gods, except because they deliberately do nothing; +because they understand that art and are masters of it? And how the +poets, the sages and the saints strive to be like the gods, in that +respect as in others! How they vie with one another in praise of +solitude, of leisure, of liberal freedom from care and of inactivity! +And they are right in doing so; for everything that is good and +beautiful in life is already there and maintains itself by its own +strength. Why then this vague striving and pushing forward without +rest or goal? Can this storm and stress give form and nourishing juice +to the everliving plant of humankind, that grows and fashions itself +in quiet? This empty, restless activity is only a bad habit of the +north and brings nothing but ennui for oneself and for others. And +with what does it begin and end except with antipathy to the world in +general, which is now such a common feeling? Inexperienced vanity does +not suspect that it indicates only lack of reason and sense, but +regards it as a high-minded discontent with the universal ugliness of +the world and of life, of which it really has not yet the slightest +presentiment. It could not be otherwise; for industry and utility are +the death-angels which, with fiery swords, prevent the return of man +into Paradise. Only when composed and at ease in the holy calm of true +passivity can one think over his entire being and get a view of life +and the world. + +How is it that we think and compose at all, except by surrendering +ourselves completely to the influence of some genius? Speaking and +fashioning are after all only incidentals in all arts and sciences; +thinking and imagining are the essentials, and they are only possible +in a passive state. To be sure it is intentional, arbitrary, +one-sided, but still a passive state. The more beautiful the climate +we live in, the more passive we are. Only the Italians know what it is +to walk, and only the Orientals to recline. And where do we find the +human spirit more delicately and sweetly developed than in India? +Everywhere it is the privilege of being idle that distinguishes the +noble from the common; it is the true principle of nobility. Finally, +where is the greater and more lasting enjoyment, the greater power and +will to enjoy? Among women, whose nature we call passive, or among +men, in whom the transition from sudden wrath to ennui is quicker than +that from good to evil? + +Satisfied with the enjoyment of my existence, I proposed to raise +myself above all its finite, and therefore contemptible, aims and +objects. Nature itself seemed to confirm me in this undertaking, and, +as it were, to exhort me in many-voiced choral songs to further +idleness. And now suddenly a new vision presented itself. I imagined +myself invisible in a theatre. On one side I saw all the well-known +boards, lights and painted scenery; on the other a vast throng of +spectators, a veritable ocean of curious faces and sympathetic eyes. +In the foreground, on the right, was Prometheus, in the act of +fashioning men. He was bound by a long chain and was working very fast +and very hard. Beside him stood several monstrous fellows who were +constantly whipping and goading him on. There was also an abundance of +glue and other materials about, and he was getting fire out of a large +coal-pan. On the other side was a figure of the deified Hercules, with +Hebe in his lap. On the stage in the foreground a crowd of youthful +forms were laughing and running about, all of whom were very happy and +did not merely seem to live. The youngest looked like amorettes, the +older ones like images of women. But each one of them had his own +peculiar manner and a striking originality of expression; and they all +bore a certain resemblance to the Christian painters' and poets' idea +of the devil--one might have called them little Satans. One of the +smallest said: + +"He who does not despise, cannot respect; one can only do either +boundlessly, and good tone consists only in playing with men. And so +is not a certain amount of malice an essential part of harmonious +culture?" + +"Nothing is more absurd," said another, "than when the moralists +reproach you about your egoism. They are altogether wrong; for what +god, who is not his own god, can deserve respect from man? You are, to +be sure, mistaken in thinking that you have an ego; but if, in the +meantime, you identify it with your body, your name and your property, +you thereby at least make ready a place for it, in case by any chance +an ego should come." + +"And this Prometheus you can all hold in deep reverence," said one of +the tallest. "He has made you all and is constantly making more like +you." + +And in fact just as soon as each new man was finished, the devils put +him down with all the rest who were looking on, and immediately it was +impossible to distinguish him from the others, so much alike were they +all. + +"The mistake he makes is in his method," continued the Sataniscus. +"How can one want to do nothing but fashion men? Those are not the +right tools he has." + +And thereat he pointed to a rough figure of the God of the Gardens, +which stood in the back part of the stage between an Amor and a very +beautiful naked Venus. + +"In regard to that our friend Hercules had better views, who could +occupy fifty maidens in a single night for the welfare of humanity, +and all of them heroic maids too. He did those labors of his, too, and +slew many a furious monster. But the goal of his career was always a +noble leisure, and for that reason he has gained entrance to Olympus. +Not so, however, with this Prometheus, the inventor of education and +enlightenment. To him you owe it that you can never be quiet and are +always on the move. Hence it is also, when you have absolutely nothing +to do, that you foolishly aspire to develop character and observe and +study one another. It is a vile business. But Prometheus, for having +misled man to toil, now has to toil himself, whether he wants to or +not. He will soon get very tired of it, and never again will he be +freed from his chains." + +When the spectators heard this, they broke out into tears and jumped +upon the stage to assure their father of their heartfelt sympathy. And +thus the allegorical comedy vanished. + +CONSTANCY AND PLAY + +"Of course you are alone, Lucinda?" + +"I do not know--perhaps--I think--" + +"Please! please! dear Lucinda. You know very well that when little +Wilhelmina says 'please! please!' and you do not do at once what she +wants, she cries louder and louder until she gets her way." + +"So it was to tell me that that you rushed into my room so out of +breath and frightened me so?" + +"Do not be angry with me, sweet lady, I beg of you! Oh, my child! +Lovely creature! Be a good girl and do not reproach me!" + +"Well, I suppose you will soon be asking me to close the door?" + +"So? I will answer that directly. But first a nice long kiss, and then +another, and then some more, and after that more still." + +"Oh! You must not kiss me that way--if you want me to keep my senses! +It makes one think bad thoughts." + +"You deserve to. Are you really capable of laughing, my peevish lady? +Who would have thought so? But I know very well you laugh only because +you can laugh at me. You do not do it from pleasure. For who ever +looked so solemn as you did just now--like a Roman senator? And you +might have looked ravishing, dear child, with those holy dark eyes, +and your long black hair shining in the evening sunlight--if you had +not sat there like a judge on the bench. Heavens! I actually started +back when I saw how you were looking at me. A little more and I should +have forgotten the most important thing, and I am all confused. But +why do you not talk? Am I disagreeable to you?" + +"Well, that _is_ funny, you surly Julius. As if you ever let any one +say anything! Your tenderness flows today like a spring shower." + +"Like your talk in the night." + +"Oh sir, let my neckcloth be." + +"Let it be? Not a bit of it! What is the use of a miserable, stupid +neckcloth? Prejudice! Away with it!" + +"If only no one disturbs us!" + +"There she goes again, looking as if she wanted to cry! You are well, +are you not? What makes your heart beat so? Come, let me kiss it! Oh, +yes, you spoke a moment ago about closing the door. Very well, but not +that way, not here. Come, let us run down through the garden to the +summer-house, where the flowers are. Come! Oh, do not make me wait +so!" + +"As you wish, sir." + +"I cannot understand--you are so odd today." + +"Now, my dear friend, if you are going to begin moralizing, we might +just as well go back again. I prefer to give you just one more kiss +and run on ahead of you." + +"Oh, not so fast, Lucinda! My moralizing will not overtake you. You +will fall, love!" + +"I did not wish to make you wait any longer. Now we are here. And you +came pretty fast yourself." + +"And you are very obedient! But this is no time to quarrel." + +"Be still! Be still!" + +"See! Here is a soft, cosy place, with everything as it should be. +This time, if you do not--well, there will be no excuse for you." + +"Will you not at least lower the curtain first?" + +"You are right. The light will be much more charming so. How beautiful +your skin shines in the red light! Why are you so cold, Lucinda?" + +"Dearest, put the hyacinths further away, their odor sickens me." + +"How solid and firm, how soft and smooth! That is harmonious +development." + +"Oh no, Julius! Please don't! I beg of you! I will not allow it!" + +"May I not feel * * *. Oh, let me listen to the beating of your heart! +Let me cool my lips in the snow of your bosom! Do not push me away! I +will have my revenge! Hold me tighter! Kiss upon kiss! No, not a lot +of short ones! One everlasting one! Take my whole soul and give me +yours! Oh, beautiful and glorious Together! Are we not children? Tell +me! How could you be so cold and indifferent at first, and then +afterward draw me closer to you, making a face the while as if +something were hurting you, as if you were reluctant to return my +ardor? What is the matter? Are you crying? Do not hide your face! +Look at me, dearest!" + +"Oh, let me lie here beside you--I cannot look into your eyes. It was +very naughty of me, Julius! Can you ever forgive me, darling? You will +not desert me, will you? Can you still love me?" + +"Come to me, sweet lady--here, close to my heart. Do you remember how +nice it was, not long ago, when you cried in my arms, and how it +relieved you? Tell me what the matter is now. You are not angry with +me?" + +"I am angry with myself. I could beat myself! To be sure, it would +have served you right. And if ever again, sir, you conduct yourself so +like a husband, I shall take better care that you find me like a wife. +You may be assured of that. I cannot help laughing, it took me so by +surprise. But do not imagine, sir, that you are so terribly +lovable--this time it was by my own will that I broke my resolution." + +"The first will and the last is always the best. It is just because +women usually say less than they mean that they sometimes do more than +they intend. That is no more than right; good will leads you women +astray. Good will is a very nice thing, but the bad part of it is that +it is always there, even when you do not want it." + +"That is a beautiful mistake. But you men are full of bad will and you +persist in it." + +"Oh no! If we seem to be obstinate, it is only because we cannot be +otherwise, not because our will is bad. We cannot, because we do not +will properly. Hence it is not bad will, but lack of will. And to whom +is the fault attributable but to you women, who have such a +super-abundance of good will and keep it all to yourselves, unwilling +to share it with us. But it happened quite against my will that we +fell a-talking about will--I am sure I do not know why we are doing +it. Still, it is much better for me to vent my feelings by talking +than by smashing the beautiful chinaware. It gave me a chance to +recover from my astonishment over your unexpected compunction, your +excellent discourse, and your laudable resolution. Really, this is one +of the strangest pranks that you have ever given me the honor of +witnessing; so far as I can remember, it has been several weeks since +you have talked by daylight in such solemn and unctuous periods as you +used in your little sermon today. Would you mind translating your +meaning into prose?" + +"Really, have you forgotten already about yesterday evening and the +interesting company? Of course I did not know that." + +"Oh! And so that is why you are so out of sorts--because I talked with +Amalia too much?" + +"Talk as much as you please with anybody you please. But you must be +nice to me--that I insist on." + +"You spoke so very loud; the stranger was standing close by, and I was +nervous and did not know what else to do." + +"Except to be rude in your awkwardness." + +"Forgive me! I plead guilty. You know how embarrassed I am with you in +society. It always hurts me to talk with you in the presence of +others." + +"How nicely he manages to excuse himself!" + +"The next time do not pass it over! Look out and be strict with me. +But see what you have done! Isn't it a desecration? Oh no! It isn't +possible, it is more than that. You will have to confess it--you were +jealous." + +"All the evening you rudely forgot about me. I began to write it all +out for you today, but tore it up." + +"And then, when I came?" + +"Your being in such an awful hurry annoyed me." + +"Could you love me if I were not so inflammable and electric? Are you +not so too? Have you forgotten our first embrace? In one minute love +comes and lasts for ever, or it does not come at all. Or do you think +that joy is accumulated like money and other material things, by +consistent behavior? Great happiness is like music coming out of the +air--it appears and surprises us and then vanishes again." + +"And thus it was you appeared to me, darling! But you will not vanish, +will you? You shall not! I say it!" + +"I will not, I will stay with you now and for all time. Listen! I feel +a strong desire to hold a long discourse with you on jealousy. But +first we ought to conciliate the offended gods." + +"Rather, first the discourse and afterward the gods." + +"You are right, we are not yet worthy of them. It takes you a long +time to get over it after you have been disturbed and annoyed about +something. How nice it is that you are so sensitive!" + +"I am no more sensitive than you are--only in a different way." + +"Well then, tell me! I am not jealous--how does it happen that you +are?" + +"Am I, unless I have cause to be? Answer me that!" + +"I do not know what you mean." + +"Well, I am not really jealous. But tell me: What were you talking +about all yesterday evening?" + +"So? It is Amalia of whom you are jealous? Is it possible? That +nonsense? I did not talk about anything with her, and that was the +funny part of it. Did I not talk just as long with Antonio, whom a +short time ago I used to see almost every day?" + +"You want me to believe that you talk in the same way with the +coquettish Amalia that you do with the quiet, serious Antonio. Of +course! It is nothing more than a case of clear, pure friendship!" + +"Oh no, you must not believe that--I do not wish you to. That is not +true. How can you credit me with being so foolish? For it is a very +foolish thing indeed for two people of opposite sex to form and +conceive any such relation as pure friendship. In Amalia's case it is +nothing more than playing that I love her. I should not care anything +about her at all, if she were not a little coquettish. + +"Would that there were more like her in our circle! Just in fun, one +must really love all the ladies." + +"Julius, I believe you are going completely crazy!" + +"Now understand me aright--I do not really mean all of them, but all +of them who are lovable and happen to come one's way." + +"That is nothing more than what the French call _galanterie_ and +_coquetterie_." + +"Nothing more--except that I think of it as something beautiful and +clever. And then men ought to know what the ladies are doing and what +they want; and that is rarely the case. A fine pleasantry is apt to be +transformed in their hands into coarse seriousness." + +"This loving just in fun is not at all a funny thing to look at." + +"That is not the fault of the fun--it is just miserable jealousy. +Forgive me, dearest--I do not wish to get excited, but I must confess +that I cannot understand how any one can be jealous. For lovers do not +offend each other, but do things to please each other. Hence it must +come from uncertainty, absence of love, and unfaithfulness to oneself. +For me happiness is assured, and love is one with constancy. To be +sure, it is a different matter with people who love in the ordinary +way. The man loves only the race in his wife, the woman in her husband +only the degree of his ability and social position, and both love in +their children only their creation and their property. Under those +circumstances fidelity comes to be a merit, a virtue, and jealousy is +in order. For they are quite right in tacitly believing that there are +many like themselves, and that one man is about as good as the next, +and none of them worth very much." + +"You look upon jealousy, then, as nothing but empty vulgarity and lack +of culture." + +"Yes, or rather as mis-culture and perversity, which is just as bad or +still worse. According to that system the best thing for a man to do +is to marry of set purpose out of sheer obligingness and courtesy. +And certainly for such folk it must be no less convenient than +entertaining, to live out their lives together in a state of mutual +contempt. Women especially are capable of acquiring a genuine passion +for marriage; and when one of them finds it to her liking, it easily +happens that she marries half a dozen in succession, either +spiritually or bodily. And the opportunity is never wanting for a man +and wife to be delicate for a change, and talk a great deal about +friendship." + +"You used to talk as if you regarded us women as incapable of +friendship. Is that really your opinion?" + +"Yes, but the incapability, I think, lies more in the friendship than +in you. Whatever you love at all, you love indivisibly; for instance, +a sweetheart or a baby. With you even a sisterly relation would assume +this character." + +"You are right there." + +"For you friendship is too many-sided and one-sided. It has to be +absolutely spiritual and have definite, fixed bounds. This boundedness +would, only in a more refined way, be just as fatal to your character +as would sheer sensuality without love. For society, on the other +hand, it is too serious, too profound, too holy." + +"Cannot people, then, talk with each other regardless of whether they +are men or women?" + +"That might make society rather serious. At best, it might form an +interesting club. You understand what I mean: it would be a great +gain, if people could talk freely, and were neither too wild nor yet +too stiff. The finest and best part would always be lacking--that +which is everywhere the spirit and soul of good society--namely, that +playing with love and that love of play which, without the finer +sense, easily degenerates into jocosity. And for that reason I defend +the ambiguities too." + +"Do you do that in play or by way of joke?" + +"No! No! I do it in all seriousness." + +"But surely not as seriously and solemnly as Pauline and her lover?" + +"Heaven forbid! I really believe they would ring the church-bell when +they embrace each other, if it were only proper. Oh, it is true, my +friend, man is naturally a serious animal. We must work against this +shameful and abominable propensity with all our strength, and attack +it from all sides. To that end ambiguities are also good, except that +they are so seldom ambiguous. When they are not and allow only one +interpretation, that is not immoral, it is only obtrusive and vulgar. +Frivolous talk must be spiritual and dainty and modest, so far as +possible; for the rest as wicked as you choose." + +"That is well enough, but what place have your ambiguities in +society?" + +"To keep the conversations fresh, just as salt keeps food fresh. The +question is not _why_ we say them, but _how_ we say them. It would be +rude indeed to talk with a charming lady as if she were a sexless +Amphibium. It is a duty and an obligation to allude constantly to what +she is and is going to be. It is really a comical situation, +considering how indelicate, stiff and guilty society is, to be an +innocent girl." + +"That reminds me of the famous Buffo, who, while he was always making +others laugh, was so sad and solemn himself." + +"Society is a chaos which can be brought into harmonious order only by +wit. If one does not jest and toy with the elements of passion, it +forms thick masses and darkens everything." + +"Then there must be passion in the air here, for it is almost dark." + +"Surely you have closed your eyes, lady of my heart! Otherwise the +light in them would brighten the whole room." + +"I wonder, Julius, who is the more passionate, you or I?" + +"Both of us are passionate enough. If that were not so, I should not +want to live. And see! That is why I could reconcile myself to +jealousy. There is everything in love--friendship, pleasant +intercourse, sensuality, and even passion. Everything must be in it, +and one thing must strengthen, mitigate, enliven and elevate the +other." + +"Let me embrace you, darling." + +"But only on one condition can I allow you to be jealous. I have often +felt that a little bit of cultured and refined anger does not +ill-become a man. Perhaps it is the same way with you in regard to +jealousy." + +"Agreed! Then I do not have to abjure it altogether." + +"If only you always manifest it as prettily and as wittily as you did +today." + +"Did I? Well, if next time you get into so pretty and witty a passion +about it, I shall say so and praise you for it." + +"Are we not worthy now to conciliate the offended gods?" + +"Yes, if your discourse is entirely finished; otherwise give me the +rest." [32] + +METAMORPHOSES + +The childlike spirit slumbers in sweet repose, and the kiss of the +loving goddess arouses in him only light dreams. The rose of shame +tinges his cheek; he smiles and seems to open his lips, but he does +not awaken and he knows not what is going on within him. Not until +after the charm of the external world, multiplied and reinforced by an +inner echo, has completely permeated his entire being, does he open +his eyes, reveling in the sun, and recall to mind the magic world +which he saw in the gleam of the pale moonlight. The wondrous voice +that awakened him is still audible, but instead of answering him it +echoes back from external objects. And if in childish timidity he +tries to escape from the mystery of his existence, seeking the unknown +with beautiful curiosity, he hears everywhere only the echo of his own +longing. + +Thus the eye sees in the mirror of the river only the reflection of +the blue sky, the green banks, the waving trees, and the form of the +absorbed gazer. When a heart, full of unconscious love, finds itself +where it hoped to find love in return, it is struck with amazement. +But we soon allow ourselves to be lured and deceived by the charm of +the view into loving our own reflection. Then has the moment of +winsomeness come, the soul fashions its envelop again, and breathes +the final breath of perfection through form. The spirit loses itself +in its clear depth and finds itself again, like Narcissus, as a +flower. + +Love is higher than winsomeness, and how soon would the flower of +Beauty wither without the complementary birth of requited love. This +moment the kiss of Amor and Psyche is the rose of life. The inspired +Diotima revealed to Socrates only a half of love. Love is not merely a +quiet longing for the infinite; it is also the holy enjoyment of a +beautiful present. It is not merely a mixture, a transition from the +mortal to the immortal, but it is a complete union of both. There is a +pure love, an indivisible and simple feeling, without the slightest +interference of restless striving. Every one gives the same as he +takes, one just like the other, all is balanced and completed in +itself, like the everlasting kiss of the divine children. + +By the magic of joy the grand chaos of struggling forms dissolves into +a harmonious sea of oblivion. When the ray of happiness breaks in the +last tear of longing, Iris is already adorning the eternal brow of +heaven with the delicate tints of her many-colored rainbow. Sweet +dreams come true, and the pure forms of a new generation rise up out +of Lethe's waves, beautiful as Anadyomene, and exhibit their limbs in +the place of the vanished darkness. In golden youth and innocence time +and man change in the divine peace of nature, and evermore Aurora +comes back more beautiful than before. + +Not hate, as the wise say, but love, separates people and fashions the +world; and only in its light can we find this and observe it. Only in +the answer of its Thou can every I completely feel its endless unity. +Then the understanding tries to unfold the inner germ of godlikeness, +presses closer and closer to the goal, is full of eagerness to fashion +the soul, as an artist fashions his one beloved masterpiece. In the +mysteries of culture the spirit sees the play and the laws of caprice +and of life. The statue of Pygmalion moves; a joyous shudder comes +over the astonished artist in the consciousness of his own +immortality, and, as the eagle bore Ganymede, a divine hope bears him +on its mighty pinion up to Olympus. + +TWO LETTERS + +I + +Is it then really and truly so, what I have so often quietly wished +for and have never dared to express? I see the light of holy joy +beaming on your face, and you modestly give me the beautiful promise. +You are to be a mother! + +Farewell, Longing, and thou, gentle Grief, farewell; the world is +beautiful again. Now I love the earth, and the rosy dawn of a new +spring lifts its radiant head over my immortal existence. If I had +some laurel, I would bind it around your brow to consecrate you to new +and serious duties; for there begins now for you another life. +Therefore, give to me the wreath of myrtle. It befits me to adorn +myself with the symbol of youthful innocence, since I now wander in +Nature's Paradise. Hitherto all that held us together was love and +passion. Now Nature has united us more firmly with an indissoluble +bond. Nature is the only true priestess of joy; she alone knows how to +tie the nuptial knot, not with empty words that bring no blessing, but +with fresh blossoms and living fruits from the fullness of her power. +In the endless succession of new forms creating Time plaits the wreath +of Eternity, and blessed is he whom Fortune selects to be healthy and +bear fruit. We are not sterile flowers among other living beings; the +gods do not wish to exclude us from the great concatenation of living +things, and are giving us plain tokens of their will. + +So let us deserve our position in this beautiful world, let us bear +the immortal fruits which the spirit chooses to create, and let us +take our place in the ranks of humanity. I will establish myself on +the earth, I will sow and reap for the future as well as for the +present. I will utilize all my strength during the day, and in the +evening I will refresh myself in the arms of the mother, who will be +eternally my bride. Our son, the demure little rogue, will play around +us, and help me invent mischief at your expense. + + * * * * * + +You are right; we must certainly buy the little estate. I am glad that +you went right ahead with the arrangements, without waiting for my +decision. Order everything just as you please; but, if I may say so, +do not have it too beautiful, nor yet too useful, and, above all +things, not too elaborate. + +If you only arrange it all in accordance with your own judgment and do +not allow yourself to be talked into the proper and conventional, +everything will be quite right, and the way I want it to be; and I +shall derive immense enjoyment from the beautiful property. Hitherto I +have lived in a thoughtless way and without any feeling of ownership; +I have tripped lightly over the earth and have never felt at home on +it. Now the sanctuary of marriage has given me the rights of +citizenship in the state of nature. I am no longer suspended in the +empty void of general inspiration; I like the friendly restraint, I +see the useful in a new light, and find everything truly useful that +unites everlasting love with its object--in short everything that +serves to bring about a genuine marriage. External things imbue me +with profound respect, if, in their way, they are good for something; +and you will some day hear me enthusiastically praise the blessedness +of home and the merits of domesticity. + +I understand now your preference for country life, I like you for it +and feel as you do about it. I can no longer endure to see these +ungainly masses of everything that is corrupt and diseased in mankind; +and when I think about them in a general way they seem to me like wild +animals bound by a chain, so that they cannot even vent their rage +freely. In the country, people can live side by side without +offensively crowding one another. If everything were as it ought to +be, beautiful mansions and cosy cottages would there adorn the green +earth, as do the fresh shrubs and flowers, and create a garden worthy +of the gods. + +To be sure we shall find in the country the vulgarity that prevails +everywhere. There ought really to be only two social classes, the +culturing and the cultured, the masculine and the feminine; instead of +all artificial society, there should be a grand marriage of these two +classes and universal brotherhood of all individuals. In place of that +we see a vast amount of coarseness and, as an insignificant exception, +a few who are perverted by a wrong education. But in the open air the +one thing which is beautiful and good cannot be suppressed by the bad +masses and their show of omnipotence. + +Do you know what period of our love seems to me particularly +beautiful? To be sure, it is all beautiful and pure in my memory, and +I even think of the first days with a sort of melancholy delight. But +to me the most cherished period of all is the last few days, when we +were living together on the estate. Another reason for living again in +the country. + +One thing more. Do not have the grapevines trimmed too close. I say +this only because you thought they were growing too fast and +luxuriantly, and because it might occur to you to want a perfectly +clear view of the house on all sides. Also the green grass-plot must +stay as it is; that is where the baby is to crawl and play and roll +about. + +Is it not true that the pain my sad letter caused you is now entirely +compensated? In the midst of all these giddy joys and hopes I can no +longer torment myself with care. You yourself suffered no greater pain +from it than I. But what does that matter, if you love me, really love +me in your very heart, without any reservation of alien thought? What +pain were worth mentioning when we gain by it a deeper and more fervid +consciousness of our love? And so, I am sure, you feel about it too. +Everything I am telling you, you knew long ago. There is absolutely no +delight, no love in me, the cause of which does not lie concealed +somewhere in the depths of your being, you everlastingly blessed +creature! + +Misunderstandings are sometimes good, in that they lead us to talk of +what is holiest. The differences that now and then seem to arise are +not in us, not in either of us; they are merely between us and on the +surface, and I hope you will take this occasion to drive them off and +away from you. + +And what is the cause of such little repulsions except our mutual and +insatiable desire to love and be loved? And without this +insatiableness there is no love. We live and love to annihilation. And +if it is love that first develops us into true and perfect beings, +that is the very life of life, then it need not fear opposition any +more than it fears life itself or humanity; peace will come to it only +after the conflict of forces. + +I feel happy indeed that I love a woman who is capable of loving as +you do. "As you do" is a stronger expression than any superlative. How +can you praise my words, when I, without wishing to, hit upon some +that hurt you? I should like to say, I write too well to be able to +describe to you my inward state of mind. Oh, dearest! Believe me, +there is no question in you that has not its answer in me. Your love +cannot be any more everlasting than mine. Admirable, however, is your +beautiful jealousy of my fancy and its wild flights. That indicates +rightly the boundlessness of your constancy, and leads me to hope that +your jealousy is on the point of destroying itself by its own excess. + +This sort of fancy--committed to writing--is no longer needed. I shall +soon be with you. I am holier and more composed than I was. I can only +see you in my mind and stand always before you. You yourself feel +everything without my telling you, and beam with joy, thinking partly +of the man you love and partly of your baby. + + * * * * * + +Do you know, while I have been writing to you, no memory could have +profaned you; to me you are as everlastingly pure as the Holy Virgin +of the Immaculate Conception, and you have wanted nothing to make you +like the Madonna except the Child. Now you have that, now it is there +and a reality. I shall soon be carrying him on my arm, telling him +fairy-tales, giving him serious instruction and lessons as to how a +young man has to conduct himself in the world. + +And then my mind reverts to the mother. I give you an endless kiss; I +watch your bosom heave with longing, and feel the mysterious throbbing +of your heart. When we are together again we will think of our youth, +and I will keep the present holy. You are right indeed; one hour later +is infinitely later. + +It is cruel that I cannot be with you right now. From sheer impatience +I do all sorts of foolish things. From morning until night I do +nothing but rove around here in this glorious region. Sometimes I +hasten my steps, as if I had something terribly important to do, and +presently find myself in some place where I had not the least desire +to be. I make gestures as if I were delivering a forcible speech; I +think I am alone and suddenly find myself among people. Then I have to +smile when I realize how absent-minded I was. + +I cannot write very long either; pretty soon I want to go out again +and dream away the beautiful evening on the bank of the quiet stream. + +Today I forgot among other things that it was time to send my letter +off. Oh well, so much the more joy and excitement will you have when +you receive it. + + * * * * * + +People are really very good to me. They not only forgive me for not +taking any part in their conversation, but also for capriciously +interrupting it. In a quiet way they seem even to derive hearty +pleasure from my joy. Especially Juliana. I tell her very little about +you, but she has a good intuition and surmises the rest. Certainly +there is nothing more amiable than pure, unselfish delight in love. + +I really believe that I should love my friends here, even if they were +less admirable than they are. I feel a great change in my being, a +general tenderness and sweet warmth in all the powers of my soul and +spirit, like the beautiful exhaustion of the senses that follows the +highest life. And yet it is anything but weakness. On the contrary, I +know that from now on I shall be able to do everything pertaining to +my vocation with more liking and with fresher vigor. I have never felt +more confidence and courage to work as a man among men, to lead a +heroic life, and in joyous fraternal cooeperation to act for eternity. + +That is my virtue; thus it becomes me to be like the gods. Yours is +gently to reveal, like Nature's priestess of joy, the mystery of love; +and, surrounded by worthy sons and daughters, to hallow this beautiful +life into a holy festival. + + * * * * * + +I often worry about your health. You dress yourself too lightly and +are fond of the evening air; those are dangerous habits and are not +the only ones which you must break. Remember that a new order of +things is beginning for you. Hitherto I have praised your frivolity, +because it was opportune and in keeping with the rest of your nature. +I thought it feminine for you to play with Fortune, to flout caution, +to destroy whole masses of your life and environment. Now, however, +there is something that you must always bear in mind, and regard +above everything else. You must gradually train yourself--in the +allegorical sense, of course. + + * * * * * + +In this letter everything is all mixed up in a motley confusion, just +as praying and eating and rascality and ecstasy are mixed up in life. +Well, good night. Oh, why is it that I cannot at least be with you in +my dreams--be really with you and dream in you. For when I merely +dream of you, I am always alone. You wonder why you do not dream of +me, since you think of me so much. Dearest, do you not also have your +long spells of silence about me? + + * * * * * + +Amalia's letter gave me great pleasure. To be sure, I see from its +flattering tone that she does not consider me as an exception to the +men who need flattery. I do not like that at all. It would not be fair +to ask her to recognize my worth in our way. It is enough that there +is one who understands me. In her way she appreciates my worth so +beautifully. I wonder if she knows what adoration is? I doubt it, and +am sorry for her if she does not. Aren't you? + + * * * * * + +Today in a French book about two lovers I came across the expression: +"They were the universe to each other." It struck me as at once +pathetic and comical, how that thoughtless phrase, put there merely as +a hyperbolical figure of speech, in our case was so literally true. +Still it is also literally true for a French passion of that kind. +They are the universe to each other, because they lose sense for +everything else. Not so with us. Everything we once loved we still +love all the more ardently. The world's meaning has now dawned upon +us. Through me you have learned to know the infinitude of the human +mind, and through you I have come to understand marriage and life, and +the gloriousness of all things. + +Everything is animate for me, speaks to me, and everything is holy. +When people love each other as we do, human nature reverts to its +original godliness. The pleasure of the lover's embrace becomes +again--what it is in general--the holiest marvel of Nature. And that +which for others is only something to be rightly ashamed of, becomes +for us, what in and of itself it is, the pure fire of the noblest +potency of life. + + * * * * * + +There are three things which our child shall certainly have--a great +deal of wanton spirit, a serious face, and a certain amount of +predisposition for art. Everything else I await with quiet +resignation. Son or daughter, as for that I have no special +preference. But about the child's bringing-up I have thought a great, +great deal. We must carefully avoid, I think, what is called +"education;" try harder to avoid it than, say, three sensible fathers +try, by anxious thought, to lace up their progeny from the very cradle +in the bands of narrow morality. + +I have made some plans which I think will please you. In doing so I +have carefully considered your ideas. But you must not neglect the +Art! For your daughter, if it should be a daughter, would you prefer +portrait-or landscape-painting? + + * * * * * + +You foolish girl, with your external things! You want to know what is +going on around me, and where and when and how I live and amuse +myself? Just look around you, on the chair beside you, in your arms, +close to your heart--that is where I am. Does not a ray of longing +strike you, creep up with sweet warmth to your heart, until it reaches +your mouth, where it would fain overflow in kisses? + +And now you actually boast because you write me such warm letters, +while I only write to you often, you pedantic creature. At first I +always think of you as you describe it--that I am walking with you, +looking at you, listening to you, talking with you. Then again it is +sometimes quite different, especially when I wake up at night. + +How can you have any doubt about the worthiness and divineness of +your letters? The last one sparkles and beams as if it had bright +eyes. It is not mere writing--it is music. I believe that if I were to +stay away from you a few more months, your style would become +absolutely perfect. Meanwhile I think it advisable for us to forget +about writing and style, and no longer to postpone the highest and +loveliest of studies. I have practically decided to set out in eight +days. + +II + +It is a remarkable thing that man does not stand in great awe of +himself. The children are justified, when they peep so curiously and +timidly at a company of unknown faces. Each individual atom of +everlasting time is capable of comprising a world of joy, and at the +same time of opening up a fathomless abyss of pain and suffering. I +understand now the old fairy-tale about the man whom the sorcerer +allowed to live a great many years in a few moments. For I know by my +own experience the terrible omnipotence of the fantasy. + +Since the last letter from your sister--it is three days now--I have +undergone the sufferings of an entire life, from the bright sunlight +of glowing youth to the pale moonlight of sagacious old age. Every +little detail she wrote about your sickness, taken with what I had +already gleaned from the doctor and had observed myself, confirmed my +suspicion that it was far more dangerous than you thought; indeed no +longer dangerous, but decided, past hope. Lost in this thought and my +strength entirely exhausted on account of the impossibility of +hurrying to your side, my state of mind was really very disconsolate. +Now for the first time I understand what it really was, being new-born +by the joyful news that you are well again. For you are well again +now, as good as entirely well--that I infer from all the reports, with +the same confidence with which a few days ago I pronounced our +death-sentence. + +I did not think of it as about to happen in the future, or even in +the present. Everything was already past. For a long time you had been +wrapt in the bosom of the cold earth; flowers had started to grow on +the beloved grave, and my tears had already begun to flow more gently. +Mute and alone I stood, and saw nothing but the features I had loved +and the sweet glances of the expressive eyes. The picture remained +motionless before me; now and then the pale face smiled and seemed +asleep, just as it had looked the last time I saw it. Then of a sudden +the different memories all became confused; with unbelievable rapidity +the outlines changed, reassumed their first form, and transformed +themselves again and again, until the wild vision vanished. Only your +holy eyes remained in the empty space and hung there motionless, even +as the friendly stars shine eternally over our poverty. I gazed +fixedly at the black lights, which shone with a well-known smile in +the night of my grief. Now a piercing pain from dark suns burned me +with an insupportable glare, now a beautiful radiance hovered about as +if to entice me. Then I seemed to feel a fresh breath of morning air +fan me; I held my head up and cried aloud: "Why should you torment +yourself? In a few minutes you can be with her!" + +I was already hastening to you, when suddenly a new thought held me +back and I said to my spirit: "Unworthy man, you cannot even endure +the trifling dissonances of this ordinary life, and yet you regard +yourself as ready for and worthy of a higher life? Go away and do and +suffer as your calling is, and then present yourself again when your +orders have been executed." + +Is it not to you also remarkable how everything on this earth moves +toward the centre, how orderly everything is, how insignificant and +trivial? So it has always seemed to me. And for that reason I +suspect--if I am not mistaken, I have already imparted my suspicion to +you--that the next life will be larger, and in the good as well as in +the bad, stronger, wilder, bolder and more tremendous. + +The duty of living had conquered, and I found myself again amid the +tumult of human life, and of my and its weak efforts and faulty deeds. +A feeling of horror came over me, as when a person suddenly finds +himself alone in the midst of immeasurable mountains of ice. +Everything about me and in me was cold and strange, and even my tears +froze. + +Wonderful worlds appeared and vanished before me in my uneasy dream. I +was sick and suffered great pain, but I loved my sickness and welcomed +the suffering. I hated everything earthly and was glad to see it all +punished and destroyed. I felt so alone and so strangely. And as a +delicate spirit often grows melancholy in the very lap of happiness +over its own joy, and at the very acme of its existence becomes +conscious of the futility of it all, so did I regard my suffering with +mysterious pleasure. I regarded it as the symbol of life in general; I +believed that I was seeing and feeling the everlasting discord by +means of which all things come into being and exist, and the lovely +forms of refined culture seemed dead and trivial to me in comparison +with this monstrous world of infinite strength and of unending +struggle and warfare, even into the most hidden depths of existence. + +On account of this remarkable feeling sickness acquired the character +of a peculiar world complete in itself. I felt that its mysterious +life was richer and deeper than the vulgar health of the dreaming +sleep-walkers all around me. And with the sickliness, which was not at +all unpleasant, this feeling also clung to me and completely separated +me from other men, just as I was sundered from the earth by the +thought that your nature and my love had been too sacred not to take +speedy flight from earth and its coarse ties. It seemed to me that all +was right so, and that your unavoidable death was nothing more than a +gentle awakening after a light sleep. + +I too thought that I was awake when I saw your picture, which evermore +transfigured itself into a cheerful diffused purity. Serious and yet +charming, quite you and yet no longer you, the divine form irradiated +by a wonderful light! Now it was like the terrible gleam of visible +omnipotence, now like a soft ray of golden childhood. With long, still +drafts my spirit drank from the cool spring of pure passion and became +secretly intoxicated with it. And in this blissful drunkenness I felt +a spiritual worthiness of a peculiar kind, because every earthly +sentiment was entirely strange to me, and the feeling never left me +that I was consecrated to death. + +The years passed slowly by, and deeds and works advanced laboriously +to their goal, one after the other--a goal that seemed as little mine +as the deeds and works seemed to be what they are called. To me they +were merely holy symbols, and everything brought me back to my one +Beloved, who was the mediatrix between my dismembered ego and the one +eternal and indivisible humanity; all existence was an uninterrupted +divine service of solitary love. + +Finally I became conscious that it was now nearly over. The brow was +no longer smooth and the locks were becoming gray. My career was +ended, but not completed. The best strength of life was gone, and +still Art and Virtue stood ever unattainable before me. I should have +despaired, had I not perceived and idolized both in you, gracious +Madonna, and you and your gentle godliness in myself. + +Then you appeared to me, beckoning with the summons of Death. An +earnest longing for you and for freedom seized me; I yearned for my +dear old fatherland, and was about to shake off the dust of travel, +when I was suddenly called back to life by the promise and reassurance +of your recovery. + +Then I became conscious that I had been dreaming; I shuddered at all +the significant suggestions and similarities, and stood anxiously by +the boundless deep of this inward truth. + +Do you know what has become most obvious to me as a result of it +all? First, that I idolize you, and that it is a good thing that I do +so. We two are one, and only in that way does a human being become one +and a complete entity, that is, by regarding and poetically conceiving +himself as the centre of everything and the spirit of the world. But +why poetically conceive, since we find the germ of everything in +ourselves, and yet remain forever only a fragment of ourselves? + +And then I now know that death can also be felt as beautiful and +sweet. I understand how the free creature can quietly long in the +bloom of all its strength for dissolution and freedom, and can +joyfully entertain the thought of return as a morning sun of hope. + +A REFLECTION + +It has often struck my mind how extraordinary it is that sensible and +dignified people can keep on, with such great seriousness and such +never-tiring industry, forever playing the little game in perpetual +rotation--a game which is of no use whatever and has no definite +object, although it is perhaps the earliest of all games. Then my +spirit inquired what Nature, who everywhere thinks so profoundly and +employs her cunning in such a large way, and who, instead of talking +wittily, behaves wittily, may think of those naive intimations which +refined speakers designate only by their namelessness. + +And this namelessness itself has an equivocal significance. The more +modest and modern one is, the more fashionable does it become to put +an immodest interpretation upon it. For the old gods, on the contrary, +all life had a certain classic dignity whereby even the immodest +heroic art is rendered lifelike. The mass of such works and the great +inventive power displayed in them settles the question of rank and +nobility in the realm of mythology. + +This number and this power are all right, but they are not the +highest. Where does the longed-for ideal lie concealed? Or does the +aspiring heart evermore find in the highest of all plastic arts only +new manners and never a perfected style? + +Thinking has a peculiarity of its own in that, next to itself, it +loves to think about something which it can think about forever. For +that reason the life of the cultured and thinking man is a constant +study and meditation on the beautiful riddle of his destiny. He is +always defining it in a new way, for just that is his entire destiny, +to be defined and to define. Only in the search itself does the human +mind discover the secret that it seeks. + +But what, then, is it that defines or is defined? Among men it is the +nameless. And what is the nameless among women?--The Indefinite. + +The Indefinite is more mysterious, but the Definite has greater magic +power. The charming confusion of the Indefinite is more romantic, but +the noble refinement of the Definite has more of genius. The beauty of +the Indefinite is perishable, like the life of the flowers and the +everlasting youth of mortal feelings; the energy of the Definite is +transitory, like a genuine storm and genuine inspiration. + +Who can measure and compare two things which have endless worth, when +both are held together in the real Definiteness, which is intended to +fill all gaps and to act as mediator between the male and female +individual and infinite humanity? + +The Definite and the Indefinite and the entire abundance of their +definite and indefinite relations--that is the one and all, the most +wonderful and yet the simplest, the simplest and yet the highest. The +universe itself is only a toy of the Definite and the Indefinite; and +the real definition of the definable is an allegorical miniature of +the life and activity of ever-flowing creation. + +With everlasting immutable symmetry both strive in different ways to +get near to the Infinite and to escape from it. With light but sure +advances the Indefinite expands its native wish from the beautiful +centre of Finiteness into the boundless. Complete Definiteness, on the +other hand, throws itself with a bold leap out of the blissful dream +of the infinite will into the limits of the finite deed, and by +self-refinement ever increases in magnanimous self-restraint and +beautiful self-sufficiency. + +In this symmetry is also revealed the incredible humor with which +consistent Nature accomplishes her most universal and her most simple +antithesis. Even in the most delicate and most artistic organization +these comical points of the great All reveal themselves, like a +miniature, with roguish significance, and give to all individuality, +which exists only by them and by the seriousness of their play, its +final rounding and perfection. + +Through this individuality and that allegory the bright ideal of witty +sensuality blooms forth from the striving after the Unconditioned. + +Now everything is clear! Hence the omnipresence of the nameless, +unknown divinity. Nature herself wills the everlasting succession of +constantly repeated efforts; and she wills, too, that every individual +shall be complete, unique and new in himself--a true image of the +supreme, indivisible Individuality. Sinking deeper into this +Individuality, my Reflection took such an individual turn that it +presently began to cease and to forget itself. + +"What point have all these allusions, which with senseless sense on +the outward boundaries of sensuality, or rather in the middle of it, I +will not say play, but contend with, each other?" + +So you will surely ask, and so the good Juliana would ask, though no +doubt in different language. + +Dear Beloved! Shall the nosegay contain only demure roses, quiet +forget-me-nots, modest violets and other maidenlike and childlike +flowers? May it not contain anything and everything that shines +strangely in wonderful glory? + +Masculine awkwardness is a manifold thing, and rich in blossoms and +fruits of all kinds. Let the wonderful plant, which I will not name, +have its place. It will serve at least as a foil to the +bright-gleaming pomegranate and the yellow oranges. Or should there +be, perhaps, instead of this motley abundance, only one perfect +flower, which combines all the beauties of the rest and renders their +existence superfluous? + +I do not apologize for doing what I should rather like to do again, +with full confidence in your objective sense for the artistic +productions of the awkwardness which, often and not unwillingly, +borrows the material for its creations from masculine inspiration. + +It is a soft Furioso and a clever Adagio of friendship. You will be +able to learn various things from it; that men can hate with as +uncommon delicacy as you can love; that they then remold a wrangle, +after it is over, into a distinction; and that you may make as many +observations about it as pleases you. + +JULIUS To ANTONIO + +You have changed a great deal of late. Beware, my friend, that you do +not lose your sense for the great before you realize it. What will +that mean? You will finally acquire so much modesty and delicacy that +heart and feeling will be lost. Where then will be your manhood and +your power of action? I shall yet come to the point of treating you as +you treat me, since we have not been living with each other, but near +each other. I shall have to set limits for you and say: Even if he has +a sense for everything else that is beautiful, still he lacks all +sense for friendship. Still I shall never set myself up as a moral +critic of my friend and his conduct; he who can do that does not +deserve the rare good fortune to have a friend. + +That you wrong yourself first of all only makes the matter worse. Tell +me seriously, do you think there is virtue in these cool subtleties of +feeling, in these cunning mental gymnastics, which consume the marrow +of a man's life and leave him hollow inside? + +For a long time I was resigned and said nothing. I did not doubt at +all that you, who know so much, would also probably know the causes +that have destroyed our friendship. It almost seems as if I was +mistaken, since you were so astonished at my attaching myself to +Edward and asked how you had offended me, as if you did not understand +it. If it were only that, only some one thing like that, then it would +not be worth while to ask such a painful question; the question would +answer and settle itself. But is it not more than that, when on every +occasion I must feel it a fresh desecration to tell you everything +about Edward, just as it happened? To be sure you have done nothing, +have not even said anything aloud; but I know and see very well how +you think about it. And if I did not know it and see it, where would +be the invisible communion of our spirits and the beautiful magic of +this communion? It certainly cannot occur to you to want to hold back +still longer, and by sheer finesse to try to end the misunderstanding; +for otherwise I should myself really have nothing more to say. + +You two are unquestionably separated by an everlasting chasm. The +quiet, clear depth of your being and the hot struggle of his restless +life lie at the opposite ends of human existence. He is all action, +you are a sensitive, contemplative nature. For that reason you should +have sense for everything, and you really do have it, save when you +cultivate an intentional reserve. And that really vexes me. Better +that you should hate the noble fellow than misjudge him. But where +will it lead, if you unnaturally accustom yourself to use your utmost +wit in finding nothing but the commonplace in what little of greatness +and beauty there is in him, and that without renouncing your claim to +a liberal mind? + +Is that your boasted many-sidedness? To be sure you observe the +principle of equality, and one man does not fare much better than +another, except that each one is misunderstood in a peculiar way. Have +you not also forced me to say nothing to you, or to anyone else, about +that which I feel to be the highest? And that merely because you +could not hold back your opinion until it was the proper time, and +because your mind is always imagining limitations in others before it +can find its own. You have almost obliged me to explain to you how +great my own worth really is; how much more just and safe it would +have been, if now and then you had not passed judgment but had +believed; if you had presupposed in me an unknown infinite. + +To be sure my own negligence is to blame for it all. Perhaps too it +was idiosyncrasy--that I wanted to share with you the entire present, +without letting you know anything about the past and the future. +Somehow it went against my feelings, and I regarded it too as +superfluous; for, as a matter of fact, I gave you credit for a great +deal of intelligence. + +O Antonio, if I could be doubtful about the eternal truths, you might +have brought me to the point of regarding that quiet, beautiful +friendship, which is based merely upon the harmony of being and living +together, as something false and perverse. + +Is it now still incomprehensible if I quite go over to the other side? +I renounce refined enjoyment and plunge into the wild battle of life. +I hasten to Edward. Everything is agreed upon. We will not only live +together, but we will work and act in fraternal unison. He is rough +and uncouth, his virtue is strong rather than sensitive. But he has a +great manly heart, and in better times than ours he would have been, I +say it boldly, a hero. + +II + +It is no doubt well that we have at last talked with each other again. +I am quite content, too, that you did not wish to write, and that you +spoke slightingly of poor innocent letters because you really have +more genius for talking. But I have in my heart one or two things more +that I could not say to you, and will now endeavor to intimate with +the pen. + +But why in this way? Oh, my friend, if I only knew of a more refined +and subtle mode of communicating my thoughts from afar in some +exquisite form! To me conversation is too loud, too near, and also too +disconnected. These separate words always present one side only, a +part of the connected, coherent whole, which I should like to intimate +in its complete harmony. + +And can men who are going to live together be too tender toward each +other in their intercourse? It is not as if I were afraid of saying +something too strong, and for that reason avoided speaking of certain +persons and certain affairs. So far as that is concerned, I think that +the boundary line between us is forever destroyed. + +What I still had to say to you is something very general, and yet I +prefer to choose this roundabout way. I do not know whether it is +false or true delicacy, but I should find it very hard to talk with +you, face to face, about friendship. And yet it is thoughts on that +subject that I wish to convey to you. The application--and it is about +that I am most concerned--you will yourself easily be able to make. + +To my mind there are two kinds of friendship. The first is entirely +external. Insatiably it rushes from deed to deed, receives every +worthy man into the great alliance of united heroes, ties the old knot +tighter by means of every virtue, and ever aspires to win new +brothers; the more it has, the more it wants. Call to mind the antique +world and you will find this friendship, which wages honest war +against all that is bad, even were it in ourselves or in the beloved +friend--you will find this friendship everywhere, where noble strength +exerts influence on great masses, and creates or governs worlds. Now +times are different; but the ideal of this friendship will stay with +me as long as I live. + +The other friendship is entirely internal. A wonderful symmetry of the +most intimately personal, as if it had been previously ordained that +one should always be perfecting himself. All thoughts and feelings +become social through the mutual excitation and development of the +holiest. And this purely spiritual love, this beautiful mysticism of +intercourse, does not merely hover as the distant goal of a perhaps +futile effort. No, it is only to be found complete. There no deception +occurs, as in that other heroic form. Whether a man's virtue will +stand the test, his actions must show. But he who inwardly sees and +feels humanity and the world will not be apt to look for public +disinterestedness where it is not to be found. + +He only is capable of this friendship who is quite composed within +himself, and who knows how to honor with humility the divinity of the +other. + +When the gods have bestowed such friendship upon a man, he can do +nothing more than protect it carefully against everything external, +and guard its holy being. For the delicate flower is perishable. + +LONGING AND PEACE + +Lightly dressed, Lucinda and Julius stood by the window in the +summer-house, refreshing themselves in the cool morning air. They were +absorbed in watching the rising sun, which the birds were welcoming +with their joyous songs. + +"Julius," asked Lucinda, "why is it that I feel a deep longing in this +serene peace?" + +"It is only in longing that we find peace," answered Julius. "Yes, +there is peace only when the spirit is entirely free to long and to +seek, where it can find nothing higher than its own longing." + +"Only in the peace of the night," said Lucinda, "do longing and love +shine full and bright, like this glorious sun." + +"And in the daytime," responded Julius, "the happiness of love shines +dimly, even as the pale moonlight." + +"Or it appears and vanishes suddenly into the general darkness," added +Lucinda, "like those flashes of lightning which lighted up the room +when the moon was hidden." + +"Only in the night," said Julius, "does the little nightingale utter +wails and deep sighs. Only in the night does the flower shyly open and +breathe freely the fragrant air, intoxicating both mind and senses in +equal delight. Only in the night, Lucinda, does the bold speech of +deep passion flow divinely from the lips, which in the noise of the +day close with tender pride their sweet sanctuary." + +LUCINDA + +It is not I, my Julius, whom you portray as so holy; although I would +fain wail like the nightingale, and although I am, as I inwardly feel, +consecrated to the night. It is you, it is the wonderful flower of +your fantasy which you perceive in me, when the noise has died down +and nothing commonplace distracts your noble mind. + +JULIUS + +Away with modesty and flattery! Remember, you are the priestess of the +night. Even in the daylight the dark lustre of your abundant hair, the +bright black of your earnest eyes, the majesty of your brow and your +entire body, all proclaim it. + +LUCINDA + +My eyes droop while you praise, because the noisy morning dazzles and +the joyous songs of the merry birds strengthen and awe my soul. At +another time my ear would eagerly drink in my lovely friend's sweet +talk here in the quiet, dark coolness of the evening. + +JULIUS + +It is not vain fantasy. My longing for you is constant and +everlastingly unsatisfied. + +LUCINDA + +Be it what it may, you are the object in which my being finds peace. + +JULIUS + +Holy peace, dear friend, I have found only in that longing. + +LUCINDA + +And I have found that holy longing in this beautiful peace. + +JULIUS + +Alas, that the garish light is permitted to lift the veil that so +concealed those flames, that the play of the senses was fain to cool +and assuage the burning soul. + +LUCINDA + +And so sometimes the cold and serious day will annihilate the warm +night of life, when youth flies by and I renounce you, even as you +once more greatly renounced great love. + +JULIUS + +Oh, that I might show you my unknown friend, and her the wonder of my +wondrous happiness. + +LUCINDA + +You love her still and will love her forever, though forever mine. +That is the wonder of your wondrous heart. + +JULIUS + +No more wondrous than yours. I see you, clasped against my breast, +playing with your Guido's locks, while we twain in brotherly union +adorn your serious brow with eternal wreaths of joy. + +LUCINDA + +Let rest in darkness, bring not forth into light, that which blooms +sacredly in the quiet depths of the heart. + +JULIUS + +Where may the billow of life be sporting with the impulsive youth whom +tender feeling and wild fate vehemently dragged into the harsh world? + +LUCINDA + +Uniquely transfigured, the pure image of the noble Unknown shines in +the blue sky of your pure soul. + +JULIUS + +Oh eternal longing! But surely the futile desire, the vain glare, of +the day will grow dim and go out, and there will be forever more the +restful feeling of a great night of love. + +LUCINDA + +Thus does the woman's heart in my ardent breast feel, when I am +allowed to be as I am. It longs only for your longing, and is peaceful +where you find peace. + +DALLYINGS OF THE FANTASY + +Life itself, the delicate child of the gods, is crowded out by the +hard, loud preparations for living, and is pitifully stifled in the +loving embrace of apelike Care. + +To have purposes, to carry out purposes, to interweave purposes +artfully with purposes for a purpose: this habit is so deeply rooted +in the foolish nature of godlike man, that if once he wishes to move +freely, without any purpose, on the inner stream of ever-flowing +images and feelings, he must actually resolve to do it and make it a +set purpose. + +It is the acme of intelligence to keep silent from choice, to +surrender the soul to the fantasy, and not to disturb the sweet +dallyings of the young mother with her child. But rarely is the mind +so intelligent after the golden age of its innocence. It would fain +possess the soul alone; and even when she supposes herself alone with +her natural love, the understanding listens furtively and substitutes +for the holy child's-play mere memories of former purposes or +prospects of new ones. Yes, it even continues to give to the hollow, +cold illusions a tinge of color and a fleeting heat; and thus by its +imitative skill it tries to steal from the innocent fantasy its very +innermost being. + +But the youthful soul does not allow itself to be cheated by the +cunning of the prematurely old Understanding, and is always watching +while its darling plays with the beautiful pictures of the beautiful +world. Willingly she allows her brow to be adorned with the wreaths +which the child plaits from the blossoms of life, and willingly she +sinks into waking slumber, dreaming of the music of love, hearing the +friendly and mysterious voices of the gods, like the separate sounds +of a distant romance. + +Old, well-known feelings make music from the depths of the past and +the future. They touch the listening spirit but lightly, and quickly +lose themselves in the background of hushed music and dim love. Every +one lives and loves, complains and rejoices, in beautiful confusion. +Here at a noisy feast the lips of all the joyful guests open in +general song, and there the lonely maiden becomes mute in the presence +of the friend in whom she would fain confide, and with smiling mouth +refuses the kiss. Thoughtfully I strew flowers on the grave of the +prematurely dead son, flowers which presently, full of joy and hope, I +offer to the bride of the beloved brother; while the high priestess +beckons to me and holds out her hand for a solemn covenant to swear by +the pure eternal fire eternal purity and never-dying enthusiasm. I +hasten away from the altar and the priestess to seize my sword and +plunge with the host of heroes into a battle, which I soon forget, +seeing in the deepest solitude only the sky and myself. + +The soul that has such dreams in sleep continues to have them even +when it is awake. It feels itself entwined by the blossoms of love, it +takes care not to destroy the loose wreaths; it gladly gives itself up +a prisoner, consecrates itself to the fantasy, and willingly allows +itself to be ruled by the child, which rewards all maternal cares by +its sweet playfulness. + +Then a fresh breath of the bloom of youth and a halo of child-like +ecstasy comes over the whole of life. The man deifies his Beloved, the +mother her child, and all men everlasting humanity. + +Now the soul understands the wail of the nightingale and the smile of +the new-born babe; the significance of the flowers and the mysterious +hieroglyphics of the starry sky; the holy import of life as well as +the beautiful language of Nature. All things speak to it, and +everywhere it sees the lovely spirit through the delicate envelope. + +On this gaily decorated floor it glides through the light dance of +life, innocent, and concerned only to follow the rhythm of sociability +and friendship, and not to disturb the harmony of love. And during it +all an eternal song, of which it catches now and then a few words +which adumbrate still higher wonders. + +Ever more beautifully this magic circle encompasses the charmed soul, +and that which it forms or speaks sounds like a wonderful romance of +childhood's beautiful and mysterious divinities--a romantic tale, +accompanied by the bewitching music of the feelings, and adorned with +the fairest flowers of lovely life. + + + + +APHORISMS + +By FRIEDRICH SCHLEGEL + +From the _Lyceum and the Athenaeum_ (1797-1800) + +TRANSLATED BY LOUIS H. GRAY + +Perfect understanding of a classic work should never be possible; but +those who are cultivated and who are still striving after further +culture, must always desire to learn more from it. + +If an author is to be able to write well upon a theme, he must no +longer feel interest in it; the thought which is to be soberly +expressed must already be entirely past and must no longer personally +concern the writer. So long as the artist invents and is inspired, he +is in an unfavorable situation, at least for communicating his +concepts. He will then wish to say everything--a false tendency of +young geniuses, or an instinctively correct prejudice of old bunglers. +In this way he mistakes the value and the dignity of self-restraint, +although for the artist, as for the man, this is the first and the +last, the most needful and the highest. + +We should never appeal to the spirit of antiquity as an authority. +There is this peculiarity about spirits: they cannot be grasped with +the hands and be held up before others. Spirits reveal themselves only +to spirits. Here, too, the briefest and most concise course would +doubtless be to prove, through good works, our possession of the faith +which alone gives salvation. + +He who desires something infinite knows not what he desires; but the +converse of this proposition is not true. + +In the ordinary kind of fair or even good translation it is precisely +the best part of a work that is lost. + +It is impossible to offend a man if he will not be offended. + +Every honest author writes for no one or for all men; he who writes +that this one or that one may read him, deserves not to be read at +all. + +In the poetry of the Ancients we see the perfection of the letter: in +that of the moderns we divine the growth of the spirit. + +The Germans are said to be the foremost nation of the world as regards +artistic sense and scientific genius. Very true, only--there are very +few Germans. + +Almost all marriages are only concubinages, morganatic wedlock, or, +rather, provisional attempts and remote approximations to a real +marriage, the peculiar essence of which consists in the fact that more +than one person are to become but one, not in accordance with the +paradoxes of this system or that, but in harmony with all spiritual +and temporal laws. A fine concept, although its realization seems to +have many grave difficulties. For this very reason there should here +be the least possible restriction of the caprice which may well have a +word to say when it becomes a question of whether one is to be an +individual in himself or is to be merely an integral part of a +corporate personality; nor is it easy to see what objections, on +principle, could be made to a marriage a quatre. If the State, +however, is determined to hold together, even by force, the +unsuccessful attempts at marriage, it thereby impedes the very +possibility of marriage, which might be furthered by new--and perhaps +happier--attempts. + +A regiment of soldiers on parade is, according to some philosophers, a +system. + +A man can only become a philosopher, he cannot be one; so soon as he +believes that he is one, he ceases to become one. + +The printed page is to thought what a nursery is to the first kiss. + +The historian is a prophet looking backward. + +There are people whose entire activity consists in saying "No." It +would be no small thing always to be able rightly to say "No," but he +who can do nothing more, surely cannot do it rightly. The taste of +these negationists is an admirable shears to cleanse the extremities +of genius; their enlightenment a great snuffer for the flame of +enthusiasm; and their reason a mild laxative for immoderate passion +and love. + +Every great philosopher has always so explained his +predecessors--often unintentionally--that it seemed as though they had +not in the least been understood before him. + +As a transitory condition skepticism is logical insurrection; as a +system it is anarchy; skeptical method would thus be approximately +like insurgent government. + +At the phrases "his philosophy," "my philosophy," we always recall the +words in Nathan the Wise: "Who owns God? What sort of a God is that +who is owned by a man?" + +What happens in poetry happens never or always; otherwise, it is no +true poetry. We ought not to believe that it is now actually +happening. + +Women have absolutely no sense of art, though they may have of poetry. +They have no natural disposition for the sciences, though they may +have for philosophy. They are by no means wanting in power of +speculation and intuitive perception of the infinite; they lack only +power of abstraction, which is far more easy to be learned. + +That is beautiful which is charming and sublime at the same time. + +Romantic poetry is a progressive universal poetry. Its mission is not +merely to reunite all the separate categories of poetry, and to bring +poetry into contact with philosophy and with rhetoric. It will, and +should, also now mingle and now amalgamate poetry and prose, genius +and criticism, artistic poetry and natural poetry; make poetry living +and social, and life and society poetic; poetize wit; and fill and +saturate the forms of art with sterling material of every kind, and +inspire them with the vibrations of humor. It embraces everything, if +only it is poetic--from the greatest system of art which, in its turn, +includes many systems within itself, down to the sigh, the kiss, which +the musing child breathes forth in artless song. It can so be lost in +what it represents that it might be supposed that its one and all is +the characterization of poetic individuals of every type; and yet no +form has thus far arisen which would be equally adapted perfectly to +express the author's mind; so that many artists who desired only to +write a romance have more or less described themselves. Romantic +poetry alone can, like the epic, become a mirror of the entire world +that surrounds it, and a picture of its age. And yet, free from all +real and ideal interests, it, too, most of all, can soar, mid-way +between that which is presented and him who presents, on the wings of +poetic reflection; it can ever re-intensify this reflection and +multiply it as in an endless series of mirrors. It is capable of the +highest and of the most universal culture--not merely from within +outward, but also from without inward--since it organizes similarly +all parts of that which is destined to become a whole; thus the +prospect of an endlessly developing classicism is opened up to it. +Among the arts romantic poetry is what wit is to philosophy, and what +society, association, friendship, and love are in life. Other types of +poetry are finished, and can now be completely analyzed. The romantic +type of poetry is still in process of development; indeed, it is its +peculiar essence that it can eternally only be in process of +development, and that it can never be completed. It can be exhausted +by no theory, and only a divinatory criticism might dare to wish to +characterize its ideal. It alone is infinite, even as it alone is +free; and as its first law it recognizes that the arbitrariness of the +poet brooks no superior law. The romantic style of poetry is the only +one which is more than a style, and which is, as it were, poetry +itself; for in a certain sense all poetry is, or should be, romantic. + +In the ancients every man has found what he needed or +desired--especially himself. + +The French Revolution, Fichte's _Wissenschaftslehre_, and Goethe's +_Wilhelm Meister_ are the three greatest tendencies of the age. +Whoever is offended at this juxtaposition, and whoever can deem no +revolution important which is not boisterous and material, has not yet +risen to the broad and lofty viewpoint of the history of mankind. Even +in our meagre histories of culture, which, for the most part, resemble +a collection of variant readings accompanied by a running commentary +the classical text of which has perished, many a little book of which +the noisy rabble took scant notice in its day, plays a greater role +than all that this rabble did. + +It is very one-sided and presumptuous to assert that there is only one +Mediator. To the ideal Christian--and in this respect the unique +Spinoza comes nearest to being one--everything ought to be a Mediator. + +He alone can be an artist who has a religion of his own, an original +view of the infinite. + +It is a peculiar trait of humanity that it must exalt itself above +humanity. + +Plato's philosophy is a worthy preface to the religion of the future. + +Man is free when he brings forth God or makes Him visible; and thereby +he becomes immortal. + +The morality of a book lies not in its theme or in the relation of the +writer to his public, but in the spirit of the treatment. If this +breathes the full abundance of humanity, it is moral. If it is merely +the work of an isolated power and art, it is not moral. + +He is an artist who has his centre within himself. He who lacks this +must choose a definite leader and mediator outside himself--naturally, +not forever, but only at the first. For without a living centre man +cannot exist, and if he does not yet have it within himself he can +seek it only in a human being, and only a human being and his centre +can arouse and awaken the artist's own. + + + + +NOVALIS (FRIEDRICH VON HARDENBERG) + + * * * * * + +THE STORY OF HYACINTH AND ROSEBLOSSOM + +From _The Novices at Sais_ (1798) + +TRANSLATED BY LILLIE WINTER + +Long ages ago there lived in the far west a guileless youth. He was +very good, but at the same time peculiar beyond measure. He constantly +grieved over nothing at all, always went about alone and silent, sat +down by himself whenever the others played and were happy, and was +always thinking about strange things. Woods and caves were his +favorite haunts, and there he talked constantly with birds and +animals, with rocks and trees--naturally not a word of sense, nothing +but stuff silly enough to make one die a-laughing. Yet he continued to +remain morose and grave in spite of the fact that the squirrel, the +long-tailed monkey, the parrot, and the bullfinch took great pains to +distract him and lead him into the right path. The goose would tell +fairy-tales, and in the midst of them the brook would tinkle a ballad; +a great heavy stone would caper about ludicrously; the rose stealing +up affectionately behind him would creep through his locks, and the +ivy stroke his careworn forehead. But his melancholy and his gravity +were obstinate. His parents were greatly grieved; they did not know +what to do. He was healthy and ate well. His parents had never hurt +his feelings, nor until a few years since had any one been more +cheerful and lively than he; always he had been at the head of every +game, and was well liked by all the girls. He was very handsome +indeed, looked like a picture, danced beautifully. Among the girls +there was one sweet and very pretty child. + +[Illustration: #NOVALIS# (Friedrich von Hardenberg) EDUARD EICHENS] + +She looked as though she were of wax, with hair like silk spun of +gold, lips as red as cherries, a figure like a little doll, eyes black +as the raven. Such was her charm that whoever saw her might have pined +away with love. At that time Roseblossom, that was her name, cherished +a heart-felt affection for the handsome Hyacinth, that was his name, +and he loved her with all his life. The other children did not know +it. A little violet had been the first to tell them; the house-cats +had noticed it, to be sure, for their parents' homes stood near each +other. When, therefore, Hyacinth was standing at night at his window +and Roseblossom at hers, and the pussies ran by on a mouse-hunt, they +would see both standing, and would often laugh and titter so loudly +that the children would hear them and grow angry. The violet had +confided it to the strawberry, she told it to her friend, the +gooseberry, and she never stopped taunting when Hyacinth passed; so +that very soon the whole garden and the goods heard the news, and +whenever Hyacinth went out they called on every side: "Little +Roseblossom is my sweetheart!" Now Hyacinth was vexed, and again he +could not help laughing from the bottom of his heart when the lizard +would come sliding up, seat himself on a warm stone, wag his little +tail, and sing + + Little Roseblossom, good and kind, + Suddenly was stricken blind. + Her mother Hyacinth she thought + And to embrace him forthwith sought. + But when she felt the face was strange, + Just think, no terror made her change! + But on his cheek pressed she her kiss, + And she had noted naught amiss. + +Alas, how soon did all this bliss pass away! There came along a man +from foreign lands; he had traveled everywhere, had a long beard, +deep-set eyes, terrible eyebrows, a strange cloak with many folds and +queer figures woven in it. He seated himself in front of the house +that belonged to Hyacinth's parents. Now Hyacinth was very curious and +sat down beside him and fetched him bread and wine. Then the man +parted his white beard and told stories until late at night and +Hyacinth did not stir nor did he tire of listening. As far as one +could learn afterward the man had related much about foreign lands, +unknown regions, astonishingly wondrous things, staying there three +days and creeping down into deep pits with Hyacinth. Roseblossom +cursed the old sorcerer enough, for Hyacinth was all eagerness for his +tales and cared for nothing, scarcely even eating a little food. +Finally the man took his departure, not, however, without leaving +Hyacinth a booklet that not a soul could read. The youth had even +given him fruit, bread, and wine to take along and had accompanied him +a long way. Then he came back melancholy and began an entirely new +mode of life. Roseblossom grieved for him very pitifully, for from +that time on he paid little attention to her and always kept to +himself. + +Now it came about that he returned home one day and was like one +new-born. He fell on his parents' neck and wept. "I must depart for +foreign lands," he said; "the strange old woman in the forest told me +that I must get well again; she threw the book into the fire and urged +me to come to you and ask for your blessing. Perhaps I shall be back +soon, perhaps never more. Say good-bye to Roseblossom for me. I should +have liked to speak to her, I do not know what is the matter, +something drives me away; whenever I want to think of old times, +mightier thoughts rush in immediately; my peace is gone, my courage +and love with it, I must go in quest of them. I should like to tell +you whither, but I do not know myself; thither where dwells the mother +of all things, the veiled virgin. For her my heart burns. Farewell!" + +He tore himself away and departed. His parents lamented and shed +tears. Roseblossom kept in her chamber and wept bitterly. Hyacinth now +hastened as fast as he could through valleys and wildernesses, across +mountains and streams, toward the mysterious country. Everywhere he +asked men and animals, rocks and trees, for the sacred goddess (Isis). +Some laughed, some were silent, nowhere did he receive an answer. At +first he passed through wild, uninhabited regions, mist and clouds +obstructed his path, it was always storming; later he found unbounded +deserts of glowing hot sand, and as he wandered his mood changed, time +seemed to grow longer, and his inner unrest was calmed. He became more +tranquil and the violent excitement within him was gradually +transformed to a gentle but strong impulse, which took possession of +his whole nature. It seemed as though many years lay behind him. Now, +too, the region again became richer and more varied, the air warm and +blue, the path more level; green bushes attracted him with their +pleasant shade but he did not understand their language, nor did they +seem to speak, and yet they filled his heart with verdant colors, with +quiet and freshness. Mightier and mightier grew within him that sweet +longing, broader and softer the leaves, noisier and happier the birds +and animals, balmier the fruits, darker the heavens, warmer the air +and more fiery his love; faster and faster passed the Time, as though +it knew that it was approaching the goal. + +One day he came upon a crystal spring and a bevy of flowers that were +going down to a valley between black columns reaching to the sky. With +familiar words they greeted him kindly. "My dear countrymen," he said, +"pray, where am I to find the sacred abode of Isis? It must be +somewhere in this vicinity, and you are probably better acquainted +here than I." "We, too, are only passing through this region," the +flowers answered; "a family of spirits is traveling and we are making +ready the road and preparing lodgings for them; but we came through a +region lately where we heard her name called. Just walk upward in the +direction from which we are coming and you will be sure to learn +more." The flowers and the spring smiled as they said this, offered +him a drink of fresh water, and went on. + +Hyacinth followed their advice, asked and asked, and finally reached +that long-sought dwelling concealed behind palms and other choice +plants. His heart beat with infinite longing and the most delicious +yearning thrilled him in this abode of the eternal seasons. Amid +heavenly fragrance he fell into slumber, since naught but dreams might +lead him to the most sacred place. To the tune of charming melodies +and in changing harmonies did his dream guide him mysteriously through +endless apartments filled with curious things. Everything seemed so +familiar to him and yet amid a splendor that he had never seen; then +even the last tinge of earthliness vanished as though dissipated in +the air, and he stood before the celestial virgin. He lifted the +filmy, shimmering veil and Roseblossom fell into his arms. From afar a +strain of music accompanied the mystery of the loving reunion, the +outpourings of their longing, and excluded all that was alien from +this delightful spot. After that Hyacinth lived many years with +Roseblossom near his happy parents and comrades, and innumerable +grandchildren thanked the mysterious old woman for her advice and her +fire; for at that time people got as many children as they wanted. + + + + +APHORISMS[33] + +By NOVALIS + +TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC H. HEDGE + +Where no gods are, spectres rule. + +The best thing that the French achieved by their Revolution, was a +portion of Germanity. + +Germanity is genuine popularity, and therefore an ideal. + +Where children are, there is the golden age. + +Spirit is now active here and there: when will Spirit be active in the +whole? When will mankind, in the mass, begin to consider? + +Nature is pure Past, foregone freedom; and therefore, throughout, the +soil of history. + +The antithesis of body and spirit is one of the most remarkable and +dangerous of all antitheses. It has played an important part in +history. + +Only by comparing ourselves, as men, with other rational beings, could +we know what we truly are, what position we occupy. + +The history of Christ is as surely poetry as it is history. And, in +general, only that history is history which might also be fable. + +The Bible begins gloriously with Paradise, the symbol of youth, and +ends with the everlasting kingdom, with the holy city. The history of +every man should be a Bible. + +Prayer is to religion what thinking is to philosophy. To pray is to +make religion. + +The more sinful man feels himself, the more Christian he is. + +Christianity is opposed to science, to art, to enjoyment in the proper +sense. + +It goes forth from the common man. It inspires the great majority of +the limited on earth. + +It is the germ of all democracy, the highest fact in the domain of the +popular. + +Light is the symbol of genuine self-possession. Therefore light, +according to analogy, is the action of the self-contact of matter. +Accordingly, day is the consciousness of the planet, and while the +sun, like a god, in eternal self-action, inspires the centre, one +planet after another closes one eye for a longer or shorter time, and +with cool sleep refreshes itself for new life and contemplation. +Accordingly, here, too, there is religion. For is the life of the +planets aught else but sun-worship? + +The Holy Ghost is more than the Bible. This should be our teacher of +religion, not the dead, earthly, equivocal letter. + +All faith is miraculous, and worketh miracles. + +Sin is indeed the real evil in the world. All calamity proceeds from +that. He who understands sin, understands virtue and Christianity, +himself and the world. + +The greatest of miracles is a virtuous act. + +If a man could suddenly believe, in sincerity, that he was moral, he +would be so. + +We need not fear to admit that man has a preponderating tendency to +evil. So much the better is he by nature, for only the unlike +attracts. + +Everything distinguished (peculiar) deserves ostracism. Well for it if +it ostracizes itself. Everything absolute must quit the world. + +A time will come, and that soon, when all men will be convinced that +there can be no king without a republic, and no republic without a +king; that both are as inseparable as body and soul. The true king +will be a republic, the true republic a king. + +In cheerful souls there is no wit. Wit shows a disturbance of the +equipoise. + +Most people know not how interesting they are, what interesting things +they really utter. A true representation of themselves, a record and +estimate of their sayings, would make them astonished at themselves, +would help them to discover in themselves an entirely new world. + +Man is the Messiah of Nature. + +The soul is the most powerful of all poisons. It is the most +penetrating and diffusible stimulus. + +Every sickness is a musical problem; the cure is the musical solution. + +Inoculation with death, also, will not be wanting in some future +universal therapy. + +The idea of a perfect health is interesting only in a scientific point +of view. Sickness is necessary to individualization. + +If God could be man, he can also be stone, plant, animal, element, and +perhaps, in this way, there is a continuous redemption in Nature. + +Life is a disease of the spirit, a passionate activity. Rest is the +peculiar property of the spirit. From the spirit comes gravitation. + +As nothing can be free, so, too, nothing can be forced, but spirit. + +A space-filling individual is a body; a time-filling individual is a +soul. + +It should be inquired whether Nature has not essentially changed with +the progress of culture. + +All activity ceases when knowledge comes. The state of knowing is +_eudaemonism_, blest repose of contemplation, heavenly quietism. + +Miracles, as contradictions of Nature, are _amathematical_. But there +are no miracles in this sense. What we so term, is intelligible +precisely by means of mathematics; for nothing is miraculous to +mathematics. + +In music, mathematics appears formally, as revelation, as creative +idealism. All enjoyment is musical, consequently mathematical. The +highest life is mathematics. + +There may be mathematicians of the first magnitude who cannot cipher. +One can be a great cipherer without a conception of mathematics. + +Instinct is genius in Paradise, before the period of self-abstraction +(self-recognition). + +The fate which oppresses us is the sluggishness of our spirit. By +enlargement and cultivation of our activity, we change ourselves into +fate. Everything appears to stream in upon us, because we do not +stream out. We are negative, because we choose to be so; the more +positive we become, the more negative will the world around us be, +until, at last, there is no more negative, and we are all in all. God +wills gods. + +All power appears only in transition. Permanent power is stuff. + +Every act of introversion--every glance into our interior--is at the +same time ascension, going up to heaven, a glance at the veritable +outward. + +Only so far as a man is happily married to himself, is he fit for +married life and family life, generally. + +One must never confess that one loves one's self. The secret of this +confession is the life-principle of the only true and eternal love. + +We conceive God as personal, just as we conceive ourselves personal. +God is just as personal and as individual as we are; for what we call +I is not our true I, but only its off glance. + + + + +HYMN TO NIGHT (1800) + +By NOVALIS + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL B. THOMAS + +Who, that hath life and the gift of perception, loves not more than +all the marvels seen far and wide in the space about him Light, the +all-gladdening, with its colors, with its beams and its waves, its +mild omnipresence as the arousing day? The giant world of restless +stars breathes it, as were it the innermost soul of life, and lightly +floats in its azure flood; the stone breathes it, sparkling and ever +at rest, and the dreamy, drinking plant, and the savage, ardent, +manifold-fashioned beast; but above all the glorious stranger with the +thoughtful eyes, the airy step, and the lightly-closed, melodious +lips. Like a king of terrestrial nature it calls every power to +countless transformations, it forms and dissolves innumerable +alliances and surrounds every earthly creature with its heavenly +effulgence. Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the +realms of the world. + +Downward I turn my eyes to Night, the holy, ineffable, mysterious. Far +below lies the world, sunk in a deep vault; void and lonely is its +place. Deep melancholy is wafted through the chords of the breast. In +drops of dew I'd fain sink down and mingle with the ashes. Far-off +memories, desires of youth, dreams of childhood, long life's brief +joys and vain hopes appear in gray garments like the evening mist +after sunset. Light has pitched its gay tents in other regions. Will +it perchance never return to its children, who are waiting for it with +the faith of innocence? + +What is it that suddenly wells up so forebodingly from beneath the +heart and smothers the gentle breath of melancholy? Dark Night, dost +thou also take pleasure in us? What hast thou beneath thy mantle which +touches my soul with invisible force? Precious balsam drops from the +bunch of poppies in thy hand. Thou raisest up the heavy wings of the +soul; vaguely and inexpressibly we feel ourselves moved. Joyously +fearful, I see an earnest face, which gently and reverently bends over +me, and amid endlessly entangled locks shows the sweet youth of the +mother. How poor and childish does Light seem to me now! How joyful +and blessed the departure of day! Only for that reason, then, because +Night turns thy servants from thee, didst thou scatter in the wide +expanse of space the shining stars, to make known thine omnipotence +and thy return, during the periods of thine absence? More heavenly +than those twinkling stars seem to us the everlasting eyes which Night +has opened within us. Farther they see than the palest of those +numberless hosts; not needing light, they fathom the depths of a +loving heart, filling a higher space with unspeakable delight. + +Praise be to the queen of the world, to the high harbinger of holy +worlds, to the fostress of blissful love! She sends thee to me, gentle +sweetheart, lovely sun of the night. Now I am awake, for I am thine +and mine; thou hast proclaimed to me that night is life and made a man +of me. Consume my body with spiritual fire, that I may ethereally +blend with thee, and then the bridal night may last forever. + + + + +"THOUGH NONE THY NAME SHOULD CHERISH" [34] + + Though none Thy Name should cherish, + My faith shall be the same, + Lest gratitude should perish + And earth be brought to shame. + With meekness Thou did'st suffer + The pangs of death for me, + With joy then I would offer + This heart for aye to Thee. + +[Illustration: #THE QUEEN OF NIGHT# _From the painting by Moritz von +Schwind_] + + I weep with strong emotion + That death has been Thy lot, + And yet that Thy devotion + Thy people have forgot. + The blessings of salvation + Thy perfect love has won, + Yet who in any nation + Regards what Thou hast done 3 + + With love Thou hast protected + Each man his whole life through; + Though all Thy care rejected, + No less would'st Thou be true. + Such love as Thine must vanquish + The proudest soul at last, + 'Twill turn to Thee in anguish + And to Thy knees cling fast. + + Thine influence hath bound me; + Oh, if it be Thy will, + Be evermore around me, + Be present with me still! + At length too shall the others + Look up and long for rest, + And all my loving brothers + Shall sink upon Thy breast. + + + + +TO THE VIRGIN[35] + + A thousand hands, devoutly tender, + Have sought thy beauty to express, + But none, oh Mary, none can render, + As my soul sees, thy loveliness. + + I gaze till earth's confusion fadeth + Like to a dream, and leaves behind + A heaven of sweetness which pervadeth + My whole rapt being--heart and mind. + + + + +FRIEDRICH HOeLDERLIN + + * * * * * + +HYPERION'S SONG OF FATE [36] (1799) + + Ye wander there in the light + On flower-soft fields, ye blest immortal Spirits. + Radiant godlike zephyrs + Touch you as gently + As the hand of a master might + Touch the awed lute-string. + Free of fate as the slumbering + Infant, breathe the divine ones. + Guarded well + In the firm-sheathed bud + Blooms eternal + Each happy soul; + And their rapture-lit eyes + Shine with a tranquil + Unchanging lustre. + But we, 'tis our portion, + We never may be at rest. + They stumble, they vanish, + The suffering mortals, + Hurtling from one hard + Hour to another, + Like waves that are driven + From cliff-side to cliff-side, + Endlessly down the uncertain abyss. + + + + +EVENING PHANTASIE[36] (1799) + +Before his but reposes in restful shade The ploughman; wreaths of +smoke from his hearth ascend. And sweet to wand'rers comes the tone of +Evening bells from the peaceful village. + +[Illustration: #FRIEDRICH HOeLDERLIN# E. HADER] + + The sailor too puts into the haven now, + In distant cities cheerily dies away + The busy tumult; in the arbor + Gleams the festal repast of friendship. + + But whither I? In labor, for slight reward + We mortals live; in alternate rest and toil + Contentment dwells; but why then sleeps not + Hid in my bosom the thorn unsparing? + + The ev'ning heaven blooms as with springtime's hue; + Uncounted bloom the roses, the golden world + Seems wrapt in peace; oh, bear me thither, + Purple-wrought clouds! And may for me there + + Both love and grief dissolve in the joyous light! + But see, as if dispelled by the foolish prayer, + The wonder fades! 'Tis dark, and lonely + Under the heaven I stand as erstwhile. + + Come then to me, soft Sleep. Overmuch requires + The heart; and yet thou too at the last shalt fade, + Oh youth, thou restless dream-pursuer! + Peaceful and happy shall age then follow. + + + + + LUDWIG TIECK + + * * * * * + +PUSS IN BOOTS (1797) + +_A fairy-tale for children in three acts, with interludes, a +prologue and an epilogue_. + +TRANSLATED BY LILLIE WINTER, B.A. + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + + THE KING + + THE PRINCESS, _his daughter_ + + PRINCE NATHANIEL _of Malsinki_ + + LEANDER, _Court scholar_ + + HANSWURST, _Court fool_ + + _A Groom of the Chamber_ + + _The Cook_ + + LORENZ } + BARTHEL } _Peasant brothers_ + GOTTLIEB } + + _Hinze, a tom-cat_ + + _A Tavern-keeper_ + + KUNZ } + MICHEL } _Peasants_ + + _A Bugbear_ + + _A Peace-maker_ + + _The Playwright_ + + _A Soldier_ + + _Two Hussars_ + + _Two Lovers_ + + _Servants_ + + _Musicians_ + + _A Peasant_ + + _The Prompter_ + + _A Shoemaker_ + + _A Historian_ + + FISCHER + + MUeLLER + + BOeTTICHER + + LEUTNER + + WIESENER + + WIESENER'S NEIGHBOR + + _Elephants_ + + _Lions_ + + _Bears_ + + _An officer_ + + _Eagles and other birds_ + + _A rabbit_ + + _Partridges_ + + _Jupiter_ + + _Terkaleon_ + + _The Machinist_ + + _Spirits_ + + _Monkeys_ + + _The Public_. + + +[Illustration: #LUDWIG TIECK# VOGEL VON VOGELSTEIN] + +PROLOGUE + + +_The scene is laid in the pit, the candles are already lighted, the +musicians are gathered in the orchestra. The theatre is filled, people +talking in confusion, some arriving, etc_. + +FISCHER, MUeLLER, SCHLOSSER, BOeTTICHER, _in the pit_ + +FISCHER. + +Say, but I am curious, Herr Mueller, what do you think of today's play? + +MUeLLER. + +I should be more likely to expect the sky to fall in than to see such +a play at our theatre. + +FISCHER. + +Do you know the play? + +MUeLLER. + +Not at all. A strange title that: _Puss in Boots_. I do hope they're +not going to present that child's play at the theatre. + +SCHLOSS. + +Why, is it an opera? + +FISCHER. + +Anything but that; the bill says: _A Fairy-tale for Children_. + +SCHLOSS. + +A fairy-tale? But in Heaven's name, we're not children, are we, that +they want to present such pieces for us? They certainly won't put an +actual cat on the stage, will they? + +FISCHER. + +It may turn out to be an imitation of the new Arcadians, a sort of +Terkaleon. + +MUeLLER. + +Now that wouldn't be bad, for I've been wishing this long while to see +some time such a wonderful opera without music. + +FISCHER. + +Without music it is absurd, for, my dear friend, we're beyond such +childish nonsense, such superstition; enlightenment has borne its +natural fruits. + +MUeLLER. + +It may turn out to be a regular picture of domestic life, and the cat +is only a joke, something like a jest, so to speak, a motive, if I may +call it that. + +SCHLOSS. + +To tell you my honest opinion, I take the whole thing to be +a trick to spread sentiment among the people, give them suggestions. +You'll see if I'm not right. A revolutionary play, as far as I can +understand. + +FISCHER. + +I agree with you, too, for otherwise the style would be +horribly offensive. For my part I must admit I never could believe in +witches or spirits, not to mention _Puss in Boots_. + +SCHLOSS. + +The age of these phantoms is past. Why, there comes Leutner; perhaps +he can tell us more. + + [_Leutner pushes himself through the crowd_.] + +LEUTNER. + +Good evening, good evening! Well, how are you? + +MUeLLER. + +Do tell us, will you, what sort of play we're having tonight? + + [_The music begins_.] + +LEUTNER. + +So late already? Why, I've come in the nick of time. About the play? I +have just been speaking with the author; he is at the theatre and +helping dress the tom-cat. + +MANY VOICES. + +Is helping?--The author?--The cat? So a cat will appear, after all? + +LEUTNER. + +Yes, indeed, why his name is even on the bill. + +FISCHER. + +I say, who's playing that part? + +LEUTNER. + +The strange actor, of course, the great man. + +MUeLLER. + +Indeed? But how can they possibly play such nonsense? + +LEUTNER. + +For a change, the author thinks. + +FISCHER. + +A fine change, why not Bluebeard too, and Prince Kobold? Indeed! Some +excellent subjects for the drama! + +MUeLLER. + +But how are they going to dress the cat?--And I wonder whether he +wears real boots? + +LEUTNER. + +I am just as impatient as all of you. + +FISCHER. + +But shall we really have such stuff played to us? We've come here out +of curiosity, to be sure, but still we have taste. + +MUeLLER. + +I feel like making a noise. + +LEUTNER. + +It's rather cold, too. I'll make a start. (_He stamps with his feet, +the others fall in_.) + +WIESENER (_on the other side_). + +What does this pounding mean? + +LEUTNER. + +That's to rescue good taste. + +WIESENER. + +Well, then I won't be the last, either. (_He stamps_.) + +VOICES. + +Be quiet, or you can't hear the music. (_All are stamping_.) + +SCHLOSS. + +But, I say, we really ought to let them go through the play, for, +after all, we've given our money anyhow; afterward we'll pound so +they'll hear us out doors. + +ALL. + +No, they'll now--taste--rules--art--otherwise everything will go to +ruin. + +A CANDLE-SNUFFER. + +Gentlemen, shall the police be sent in? + +LEUTNER. + +We have paid, we represent the public, and therefore we will have our +own good taste and no farces. + +THE PLAYWRIGHT (_behind the scenes_). + +The play will begin immediately. + +MUeLLER. + +No play--we want no play--we want good taste-- + +ALL. + +Good taste! good taste! + +PLAYWR. + +I am puzzled--what do you mean, if I may ask? + +SCHLOSS. + +Good taste! Are you an author and don't even know what good taste +means? + +PLAYWR. + +Consider a young beginner-- + +SCHLOSS. + +We want to know nothing about beginners--we want to see a decent +play-a play in good taste! + +PLAYWR. + +What sort? What kind? + +MUeLLER. + +Domestic stories--elopements--brothers and sisters from the +country--something like that. + + [_The Author comes out from behind the curtain_.] + +PLAYWR. + +Gentlemen-- + +ALL. + +Is that the author? + +FISCHER. + +He doesn't look much like an author. + +SCHLOSS. + +Impertinent fellow! + +MUeLLER. + +His hair isn't even trimmed. + +PLAYWR. + +Gentlemen-pardon my boldness. + +FISCHER. + +How can you write such plays? Why haven't you trained yourself? + +PLAYWR. + +Grant me just one minute's audience before you condemn me. I know that +the honorable public must pass judgment on the author, and that from +them there is no appeal, but I know the justice of an honorable +public, and I am assured they will not frighten me away from a course +in which I so need their indulgent guidance. + +FISCHER. + +He doesn't talk badly. + +MUeLLER. + +He's more courteous than I thought. + +SCHLOSS. + +He has respect for the public, after all. + +PLAYWR. + +I am ashamed to present to such illustrious judges the modest +inspiration of my Muse; it is only the skill of our actors which still +consoles me to some extent, otherwise I should be sunk in despair +without further ado. + +FISCHER. + +I am sorry for him. + +MUeLLER. + +A good fellow! + +PLAYWR. + +When I heard your worthy stamping--nothing has ever frightened me so, +I am still pale and trembling and do not myself comprehend how I have +attained to the courage of thus appearing before you. + +LEUTNER. + +Well, clap, then! (_All clap_.) + +PLAYWR. + +I wanted to make an attempt to furnish amusement by means of humor, by +cheerfulness and real jokes, and hope I have been successful, since +our newest plays so seldom afford us an opportunity to laugh. + +[Illustration: #PUSS IN BOOTS# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +MUeLLER. + +That's certainly true! + +LEUTNER. + +He's right--that man. + +SCHLOSS. + +Bravo! Bravo! + +ALL. + +Bravo! Bravo! (_They clap_.) + +PLAYWR. + +I leave you, honored sirs, to decide now whether my attempt is to be +rejected entirely--trembling, I withdraw, and the play will begin. +(_He bows very respectfully and goes behind the curtain_.) + +ALL. + +Bravo! Bravo! + +VOICES FROM THE GALLERY. + +_Da capo!_-- + +[_All are laughing. The music begins again; meanwhile the curtain +rises_.] + + + +ACT I + +_Small room in a peasant's cottage_ + +LORENZ, BARTHEL, GOTTLIEB. The tom-cat HINZE, _is lying on a bench by +the stove_. + +LORENZ. + +I think that after the death of our father, our little fortune can be +divided easily. You know the deceased has left only three pieces of +property--a horse, an ox, and that cat there. I, as the eldest, will +take the horse; Barthel, second after me, gets the ox, and so the cat +is naturally left for our youngest brother. + +LEUTNER (_in the pit_). + +For Heaven's sake! Did any one ever see such an exposition! Just see +how far dramatic art has degenerated! + +MUeLLER. + +But I understand everything perfectly well. + +LEUTNER. + +That's just the trouble, you should give the spectator a cunning +suggestion, not throw the matter right into his teeth. + +MUeLLER. + +But now you know, don't you, where you are? + +LEUTNER. + +Yes, but you certainly mustn't know that so quickly; why, the very +best part of the fun consists in getting at it little by little. + +BARTHEL. + +I think, brother Gottlieb, you will also be satisfied with this +division; unfortunately you are the youngest, and so you must grant us +some privileges. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, to be sure. + +SCHLOSS. + +But why doesn't the court of awards interfere in the inheritance? What +improbabilities! + +LORENZ. + +So then we're going now, dear Gottlieb; farewell, don't let time hang +heavy on your hands. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Good-bye. + + [_Exit the brothers_.] + +GOTTLIEB (_alone_). + +They are going away--and I am alone. We all three have our lodgings. +Lorenz, of course, can till the ground with his horse, Barthel can +slaughter and pickle his ox and live on it a while--but what am I, +poor unfortunate, to do with my cat? At the most, I can have a muff +for the winter made out of his fur, but I think he is even shedding it +now. There he lies asleep quite comfortably--poor Hinze! Soon we shall +have to part. I am sorry I brought him up, I know him as I know +myself--but he will have to believe me, I cannot help myself, I must +really sell him. He looks at me as though he understood. I could +almost begin to cry. + + [_He walks up and down, lost in thought_.] + +MUeLLER. + +Well, you see now, don't, you, that it's going to be a touching +picture of family life? The peasant is poor and without money; now, in +the direst need, he will sell his faithful pet to some susceptible +young lady, and in the end that will be the foundation of his good +fortune. Probably it is an imitation of Kotzebue's _Parrot_; here the +bird is replaced by a cat and the play runs on of itself. + +FISCHER. + +Now that it's working out this way, I am satisfied too. + +HINZE, the tom-cat (_rises, stretches, arches his back, yawns, then +speaks_). + +My dear Gottlieb--I really sympathize with you. + +GOTTLIEB (_astonished_). + +What, puss, you are speaking? + +THE CRITICS (_in the pit_). + +The cat is talking? What does that mean, pray? + +FISCHER. + +It's impossible for me to get the proper illusion here. + +MUeLLER. + +Rather than let myself be disappointed like this I never want to see +another play all my life. + +HINZE. + +Why should I not be able to speak, Gottlieb? + +GOTTLIEB. + +I should not have suspected it; I never heard a cat speak in all my +life. + +HINZE. + +Because we do not join in every conversation, you think we're nothing +but dogs. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I think your only business is to catch mice. + +HINZE. + +If we had not, in our intercourse with human beings, got a certain +contempt for speech, we could all speak. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, I'll own that! But why don't you give any one an opportunity to +discover you? + +HINZE. + +That's to avoid responsibility, for if once the power of speech were +inflicted on us so-called animals, there wouldn't be any joy left in +the world. What isn't the dog compelled to do and learn! The horse! +They are foolish animals to show their intelligence, they must give +way entirely to their vanity; we cats still continue to be the freest +race because, with all our skill, we can act so clumsily that human +beings quite give up the idea of training us. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But why do you disclose all this to me? + +HINZE. + +Because you are a good, a noble man, one of the few who take no +delight in servility and slavery; see, that is why I disclose myself +to you completely and fully. + +GOTTLIEB (_gives him his hand_). + +Good friend! + +HINZE. + +Human beings labor under the delusion that the only remarkable thing +about us is that instinctive purring which arises from a certain +feeling of comfort; for that reason they often stroke us awkwardly and +then we usually purr to secure ourselves against blows. But if they +knew how to manage us in the right way, believe me, they would +accustom our good nature to everything, and Michel, your neighbor's +tom-cat, would even at times be pleased to jump through a hoop for the +king. + +GOTTLIEB. + +You're right in that. + +HINZE. + +I love you, Master Gottlieb, very much. You have never stroked me the +wrong way, you have let me sleep when I felt like it, you have +objected whenever your brothers wanted to take me up, to go with me +into the dark, and see the so-called electrical sparks--for all this I +now want to show my gratitude. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Noble-hearted Hinze! Ah, how unjustly do they speak ill of you and +scornfully, doubting your loyalty and devotion! My eyes are being +opened--how my knowledge of human nature is increasing and so +unexpectedly! + +FISCHER. + +Friends, where has our hope for a picture of family life gone to? + +LEUTNER. + +Why it is almost too nonsensical. + +SCHLOSS. + +I feel as though I were in a dream. + +HINZE. + +You are a good man, Master Gottlieb; but, do not take it ill of me, +you are somewhat narrow, confined--to speak out freely, not one of the +best heads. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Alas, no! + +HINZE. + +You don't know now, for example, what you want to do. + +GOTTLIEB. + +You read my thoughts perfectly. + +HINZE. + +If you had a muff made out of my fur-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Do not take it amiss, comrade, that this idea just passed through my +mind. + +HINZE. + +Why, no, it was an altogether human thought. Can you think of no way +of managing? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Not a thing! + +HINZE. + +You might carry me around and show me for money; but that is never a +sure means of support. + +GOTTLIEB. + +No. + +HINZE. + +You might publish a journal or a German paper, with the motto, _Homo +sum_--or a novel; I should be willing to collaborate with you--but +that is too much bother. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes. + +HINZE. + +Well, I'll see that I take even better care of you. Depend upon it, +you are yet to become very happy through me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +O, best, most noble man. (_He embraces him tenderly_.) + +HINZE. + +But you must also trust me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Entirely. Why, now I realize your honorable spirit. + +HINZE. + +Well, then, do me a favor and bring the shoemaker immediately to take +my measure for a pair of boots. + +GOTTLIEB. + +The shoemaker? Boots? + +HINZE. + +You are surprised, but in accomplishing what I intend to do for you, I +have to walk and run so much that I have to wear boots. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But why not shoes? + +HINZE. + +Master Gottlieb, you do not understand the matter; they must lend me +some dignity, an imposing air, in short, a certain manliness to which +one never attains in shoes. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, as you think best; but the shoemaker will be surprised. + +HINZE. + +Not at all; we must act only as if it were nothing remarkable that I +should wish to wear boots; one gets used to everything. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, indeed; why, my conversation with you has actually become quite +easy! But another thing; now that we have become such good friends, do +call me by my first name, too; why do you still want to stand on +ceremony with me? + +HINZE. + +As you like, Gottlieb. + +GOTTLIEB. + +There's the shoemaker passing. Hey! Pst! Friend Leichdorn! Will you +please stop a moment? + + [_The shoemaker comes in_.] + +SHOEMAK. + +God bless you! What's the news? + +GOTTLIEB. + +I have ordered no work from you for a long time. + +SHOEMAK. + +No, my friend, all in all, I have very little to do now. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I should like to have another pair of boots made-- + +SHOEMAK. + +Please take a seat. I have a measure with me. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Not for myself, but for my young friend there. + +SHOEMAK. + +For this one here? Very well. + +HINZE (_sits on a chair and holds out his right leg_). + +SHOEMAK. + +Now how should you like it, pussy? + +HINZE. + +In the first place, good soles, then brown flaps, and, above all +things, stiff. + +SHOEMAK. + +Very well. (_He takes the measure_.) Will you be so kind as to draw +your claws in a bit--or rather nails? I have already scratched myself. +(_He takes the measure_.) + +HINZE. + +And they must be finished quickly. (_As his leg is being stroked he +begins to purr involuntarily_.) + +SHOEMAK. + +The pussy is comfortable. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Yes, he's a good-humored fellow. He has just come from school, what +they usually call a "smarty." + +SHOEMAK. + +Well, good-bye. + + [_Exit_.] + +GOTTLIEB. + +Wouldn't you perhaps like to have your whiskers trimmed too? + +HINZE. + +On no account, I look so much more respectable, and you certainly must +know that cats immediately become unmanly after that. A tom-cat +without whiskers is but a contemptible creature. + +GOTTLIEB. + +If I only knew what you are planning! + +HINZE. + +You'll find out in due time. Now I want to take a little walk on the +roofs; there's a fine, open view there and you're likely to catch a +dove too. + +GOTTLIEB. + +As a good friend, I want to warn you not to let yourself be caught at +it. + +HINZE. + +Don't worry, I'm not a novice. Meanwhile, good-bye. + + [_Exit_.] + +GOTTLIEB (_alone_). + +Natural history always says that cats cannot be trusted and that they +belong to the lion family, and I am in such fearful dread of a lion. Now +if the cat had no conscience, he could run away from me afterward with +the boots for which I must now give my last penny and then sell them +somewhere for nothing, or it's possible that he wants to make a bid for +favor with the shoemaker and then go into his service. But he has a +tom-cat already. No, Hinze, my brothers have betrayed me, and now I +will try my luck with you. He spoke so nobly, he was so touched--there +he sits on the roof yonder, stroking his whiskers--forgive me, my fine +friend, that I could even for a moment doubt your magnanimity. + + [_Exit_.] + +FISCHER. + +What nonsense! + +MUeLLER. + +What does the cat need those boots for?--to be able to walk better? +Silly stuff! + +SCHLOSS. + +But it seems as though I saw a cat before me. + +LEUTNER. + +Be still, the scene is changing. + +_Hall in the royal palace_ + +_The_ KING _with crown and sceptre. The_ PRINCESS, _his daughter_ + +KING. + +A thousand handsome princes, my precious daughter, have already sued +for your hand and laid their kingdoms at your feet, but you have +continued to refuse them. Tell us the reason for this, my treasure. + +PRINCESS. + +My most gracious father, I have always believed that my heart must +first feel certain emotions before my neck would bow under the yoke of +marriage. For a marriage without love, they say, is truly hell upon +earth. + +KING. + +That is right, my dear daughter. Ah, indeed, indeed, have you spoken +words of truth: a hell on earth! Alas, if only I were not qualified to +discuss it! Indeed I should have preferred to remain ignorant! But as +it is, dear treasure, I have my tale to tell, as they say. Your +mother, my consort of blessed memory--ah, Princess, see, the tears +rush to my eyes even in my old age--she was a good queen, she wore the +crown with an indescribable air of majesty--but she gave me very +little peace. Well, may her ashes rest in peace among her royal +relatives. + +PRINCESS. + +Your majesty excites yourself too much. + +KING. + +When the memory of it returns to me, O my child, on my knees I would +entreat you--do be careful in marrying! It is a great truth that linen +and a bridegroom must not be bought by candle-light, a truth which +should be found in every book. What did I suffer! No day passed +without a quarrel; I could not sleep peacefully, could not conduct my +administrative business quietly, I could not think of anything, could +not read a book--I was always interrupted. And still my spirit +sometimes yearns for you, my blessed Klothilde! My eyes smart--I am a +real old fool. + +PRINCESS (_tenderly_). + +My father! + +KING. + +I tremble to think of the dangers that face you, for, even if you do +fall in love now, my daughter, ah! you should just see what thick +books wise men have filled on this subject--see, your very passion, +then, can also make you miserable. The happiest, the most blissful +emotion can ruin us; moreover, love is, as it were, a magic cup; +instead of nectar we often drink poison; then our pillow is wet with +tears; all hope, all consolation are gone. (_The sound of a trumpet is +heard_.) Why, it isn't dinner-time yet, is it? Probably another new +prince who wants to fall in love with you. Take care, my daughter; you +are my only child, and you do not realize how near my heart your +happiness lies. (_He kisses her and leaves the hall. Applause is heard +in the pit_.) + +FISCHER. + +That's a scene for you, in which you can find sound common sense. + +SCHLOSS. + +I am also moved. + +MUeLLER. + +He's an excellent sovereign. + +FISCHER. + +Now he didn't exactly have to appear with a crown. + +SCHLOSS. + +It entirely spoils the sympathy one feels for him as an affectionate +father. + +THE PRINCESS (_alone_). + +I do not understand at all; why, not one of the princes has yet +touched my heart with love. I always keep in mind my father's +warnings; he is a great sovereign and nevertheless a good father too, +and is always thinking of my happiness; if only he did not have such a +hasty temper! But fortune and misfortune are always coupled thus. My +joy I find in the arts and sciences, for books constitute all my +happiness. + +_The_ PRINCESS, LEANDER, _the court scholar_. + +LEANDER. + +Well, your Royal Highness! (_They sit down_.) + +PRINCESS. + +Here. Master Leander, is my essay. I have entitled it _Thoughts at +Night_. + +LEANDER (_reads_). + +Excellent! Inspired! Ah! I feel as though I hear the hour of midnight +striking. When did you write it? + +PRINCESS. + +Yesterday noon, after dinner. + +LEANDER. + +Beautifully conceived! Truly, beautifully conceived! But with your +most gracious permission! _The moon shines sadly down in the world._ +If you will not take it amiss, it should read: _into the world_. + +PRINCESS. + +Very well, I will note that for the future; it's too stupid that +poetry should be made so hard for us; one can't write five or six +lines without making a mistake. + +LEANDER. + +That's the obstinacy of language, so to speak. + +PRINCESS. + +Are not the emotions tenderly and delicately phrased! + +LEANDER. + +Indescribably! It is scarcely comprehensible how a feminine mind could +write such a thing. + +PRINCESS. + +Now I might try my hand at moonlight descriptions. Don't you think so? + +LEANDER. + +Naturally you keep going farther all the time; you keep rising higher. + +PRINCESS. + +I have also begun a piece: _The Unhappy Misanthrope; or, Lost Peace +and Restored Innocence!_ + +LEANDER. + +Even the title itself is fascinating. + +PRINCESS. + +And then I feel an incomprehensible desire within me to write some +horrible ghost story. As I said before, if it were not for those +grammatical errors! + +LEANDER. + +Do not worry about that, incomparable princess! They are easily +corrected. + + [_Groom from the Chamber enters._] + +GROOM. + +The Prince of Malsinki, who has just arrived, wishes to wait on your +royal highness. + + [_Exit._] + +LEANDER. + +Your obedient servant. + + [_Exit._] + + +_Prince_ NATHANIEL _of Malsinki. The_ KING + +KING. + +Here, Prince, is my daughter, a young, simple creature, as you +see her before you. (_Aside._) Be polite, my daughter, courteous; he +is an illustrious prince from afar; his country is not even on my map, +I have already looked it up; I have an amazing amount of respect for +him. + +PRINCESS. + +I am glad to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance. + +NATHAN. + +Beautiful Princess, the report of your beauty has been spread +so widely over the whole world that I have come here from a far +distant corner for the happiness of seeing you face to face. + +KING. + +Indeed it is astonishing, how many countries and kingdoms there +are! You would not believe how many thousand crown-princes have been +here already, to pay their addresses to my daughter; sometimes they +arrive by dozens, especially when the weather is fine--and now you +have come all the way from--I beg your pardon, topography is such a +very extensive subject--in what region does your country lie? + +NATHAN. + +Mighty king, if you travel from here first down the great +highway, then you turn to the right and go on; but when you reach a +mountain, turn to the left again, then you go to the ocean and sail +directly north (if the wind is favorable, of course), and so, if the +journey is successful, you reach my dominions in a year and a half. + +KING. + +The deuce! I must have my court scholar explain that to me. You +are probably a neighbor of the North Pole or Zodiac, or something like +that, I suppose! + +NATHAN. + +Not that I know of. + +KING. + +Perhaps somewhere near the savages? + +NATHAN. + +I beg your pardon, all my subjects are very tame. + +KING. + +But you must live confoundedly far away. I can't get a clear +idea of it yet. + +NATHAN. + +The geography of my country is still not exactly fixed; I +expect to discover more every day; and then it may easily come about +that we shall even become neighbors in the end. + +KING. + +That will be splendid! And if, after all, a few countries still +stand in our way, I will help you in your discoveries. My neighbor is +not a good friend of mine, so to speak, and he has a fine country; all +the raisins come from there; why, I should be only too glad to have +it! But another thing; do tell me, how, living so far away, can you +speak our language so fluently! + +NATHAN. + +Hush! + +KING. + +What? + +NATHAN. + +Hush! hush! + +KING. + +I do not understand. + +NATHANIEL, (_softly to him_). + +Do be quiet about it, pray, for +otherwise the audience down there will surely notice that it is really +very unnatural. + +KING. + +It doesn't matter. They clapped before and so I can afford to +take a chance. + +NATHAN. + +You see, it is only for the sake of the drama that I speak your +language; for otherwise, of course, the matter is incomprehensible. + +KING. + +Ah, so! Well, come, Prince, the table is set! + +[_The_ PRINCE _escorts the princess out, the_ KING _precedes_.] + +FISCHER. + +Cursed improbabilities there are in this play! + +SCHLOSS. + +And the king doesn't remain at all true to his character. + +LEUTNER. + +Why, nothing but the natural should ever be presented on the +stage! The prince should speak an altogether unknown language and have +an interpreter with him; the princess should make grammatical errors, +since she herself admits that she writes incorrectly. + +MUeLLER. + +Of course! Of course! The whole thing is unquestionable +nonsense; the author himself is always forgetting what he has said the +moment before. + +_The scene is laid in front of a tavern._ + +LORENZ, KUNZ, MICHEL _are sitting on a bench. The_ HOST + +LORENZ. + +I shall have to be going again soon! I still have a long way +home. + +HOST. + +You are a subject of the king, aren't you? + +LORENZ. + +Yes, indeed; what do you call your good ruler? + +HOST. + +He is just called Bugbear. + +LORENZ. + +That is a foolish title. Why, has he no other name? + +HOST. + +When he has edicts issued, they always read: For the good of the +public, the _Law_ demands--hence I believe that is his real name. All +petitions, too, are always laid before the _Law_. He is a fearful man. + +LORENZ. + +Still, I should rather be under a king; why, a king is more +dignified. They say the Bugbear is a very ungracious master. + +HOST. + +He is not especially gracious, that is true of course, but, on +the other hand, he is justice itself. Cases are even sent to him from +abroad and he must settle them. + +LORENZ. + +They say wonderful things about him; the story goes he can +transform himself into any animal. + +HOST. + +It is true, and then he travels around _incognito_ and spies out +the sentiments of his subjects; that's the very reason why we trust no +cat, no strange dog or horse, because we always think the ruler might +probably be inside of them. + +LORENZ. + +Then surely we are in a better position, too. Our king never +goes out without wearing his crown, his cloak, and his sceptre; by +these, he is known three hundred paces away. Well, take care of +yourselves. + + [_Exit._] + +HOST. + +Now he is already in his own country. + +KUNZ. + +Is the border line so near? + +HOST. + +Surely, that very tree belongs to the king; you can see from +this very spot everything that goes on in his country; this border +line here is a lucky thing for me. I should have been bankrupt long +ago if the deserters from over there had not supported me; almost +every day several come. + +MICHEL. + +Is the service there so hard? + +HOST. + +Not that; but running away is so easy, and just because it is so +strictly forbidden the fellows get such an exceptional desire to +desert. Look, I bet that's another one coming! + + [_A soldier comes running._] + +SOLDIER. + +A can of beer, host! Quick! + +HOST. + +Who are you? + +SOLDIER. + +A deserter. + +MICHEL. + +Perhaps 'twas his love for his parents which made him desert. +Poor fellow, do take pity on him, host. + +HOST. + +Why if he has money, there won't be any lack of beer. (_Goes +into the house_.) + + [_Two hussars come riding and dismount_.] + +1ST HUSS. + +Well, thank God, we've got so far! Your health, neighbor! + +SOLDIER. + +This is the border. + +2D HUSS. + +Yes, Heaven be thanked! Didn't we have to ride for the sake +of that fellow? Beer, host! + +HOST (_with several glasses_). + +Here, gentlemen, a fine, cool drink; +you are all pretty warm. + +1ST HUSS. + +Here, you rascal! To your health! + +SOLDIER. + +Best thanks, I will meantime hold your horses for you. + +2D HUSS. + +The fellow can run! It's good that the border is never so +very far away; for otherwise it would be deucedly hard service. + +1ST HUSS. + +Well, we must go back, I suppose. Good-bye, deserter! Much +luck on your way! + + [_They mount and ride away_.] + +HOST. + +Will you stay here? + +SOLDIER. + +No, I am going away; why I must enlist with the neighboring +duke. + +HOST. + +Say, come and see me when you desert again. + +SOLDIER. + +Certainly. Farewell! + +[_They shake hands. Exeunt soldier and guests, exit host into the +house. The curtain falls_.] + +INTERLUDE + +FISCHER. + +Why, it's getting wilder and wilder! What was the purpose of +the last scene, I wonder? + +LEUTNER. + +Nothing at all, it is entirely superfluous; only to introduce +some new nonsense. The theme of the cat is now lost entirely and there +is no fixed point of view at all. + +SCHLOSS. + +I feel exactly as though I were intoxicated. + +MUeLLER. + +I say, in what period is the play supposed to be taking place? +The hussars, of course, are a recent invention. + +SCHLOSS. + +We simply shouldn't bear it, but stamp hard. Now we haven't +the faintest idea of what the play is coming to. + +FISCHER. + +And no love, either! Nothing in it for the heart, for the +imagination. + +LEUTNER. + +As soon as any more of that nonsense occurs, for my part at +least, I'll begin to stamp. + +WIESENER (_to his neighbor_). + +I like the play now. + +NEIGHBOR. + +Very fine, indeed, very fine; a great man, the author; he +has imitated the _Magic Flute_ well. + +WIESENER. + +I liked the hussars particularly well; people seldom take +the risk of bringing horses on the stage--and why not? They often have +more sense than human beings. I would rather see a good horse than +many a human being in the more modern plays. + +NEIGHBOR. + +The Moors in Kotzebue--a horse is after all nothing but +another kind of Moor. + +WIESENER. + +Do you not know to what regiment the hussars belonged + +NEIGHBOR. + +I did not even look at them carefully. Too bad they went +away so soon--indeed I'd rather like to see a whole play with nothing +but hussars. I like the cavalry so much. + +LEUTNER (_to_ BOeTTICHER). + +What do you think of all this? + +BOeTTICH. + +Why, I simply can't get the excellent acting of the man who +plays the cat out of my head. What a study! What art! What +observation! What costuming! + +SCHLOSS. + +That is true; he really does look like a large tom-cat. + +BOeTTICH. + +And just notice his whole mask, as I would rather call his +costume, for since he has so completely disguised his natural +appearance, this expression is far more fitting. But I say, God bless +the ancients when blessing is due. You probably do not know that the +ancients acted all parts, without exception, in masks, as you will +find in _Athenaeus, Pollux_ and others. It is hard, you see, to know +all these things so accurately, because one must now and then look up +those books oneself to find them. At the same time, however, one then +has the advantage of being able to quote them. There is a difficult +passage in Pausanias. + +FISCHER. + +You were going to be kind enough to speak of the cat. + +BOeTTICH. + +Why, yes; and I only meant to say all the preceding by the +way, hence I beg you most earnestly to consider it as a note; and, to +return to the cat, have you noticed, I wonder, that he is not one of +those black cats? No, on the contrary, he is almost entirely white and +has only a few black spots; that expresses his good-nature +excellently; moreover, the theme of the whole play, all the emotions +to which it should appeal, are suggested in this very fur. + +LEUTNER. + +That is true. + +FISCHER. + +The curtain is going up again! + + + +ACT II + +_Room in a peasant's house_ + +GOTTLIEB, HINZE. _Both are sitting at a small table and eating_. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Did it taste good? + +HINZE. + +Very good, very fine. + +GOTTLIEB. + +But now my fate must soon be determined, for otherwise I do +not know what I am to do. + +HINZE. + +Just have patience a few days longer; why, good fortune must +have some time to grow; who would expect to become happy all of a +sudden, so to speak? My good man, that happens only in books; in the +world of reality things do not move so quickly. + +FISCHER. + +Now just listen, the cat dares to speak of the world of +reality! I feel almost like going home, for I'm afraid I shall go mad. + +LEUTNER. + +It looks almost as if that is what the writer intended. + +MUeLLER. + +A splendid kind of artistic enjoyment, to be mad, I must +admit! + +GOTTLIEB. + +If I only knew, dear Hinze, how you have come by this amount +of experience, this intelligence! + +HINZE. + +Are you, then, under the impression that it is in vain one lies +for days at the stove with one's eyes tight shut? I always kept +studying there quietly. In secret and unobserved does the power of the +intelligence grow; hence it is a sign that one has made the least +progress when one sometimes has a mind to crane one's neck around as +far as possible, so as to look back at the ground one has already +covered. Now do be kind enough to untie my napkin. + +GOTTLIEB (_does it_). + +A blessing on good food! (_They kiss._) Content +yourself with that. + +HINZE. + +I thank you from the bottom of my heart. + +GOTTLIEB. + +The boots fit very nicely, and you have a charming little +foot. + +HINZE. + +That is only because we always walk on our toes, as you must +already have read in your natural history. + +GOTTLIEB. + +I have great respect for you--on account of the boots. + +HINZE (_hangs a soldier's knapsack about his neck_). + +I am going now. +See, I have also made myself a bag with a drawing-string. + +GOTTLIEB. + +What's it all for? + +HINZE. + +Just let me alone! I want to be a hunter. Why, where is my +cane? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Here. + +HINZE. + +Well, then, good-bye. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB. + +A hunter? I can't understand the man. + + [_Exit._] + + +_Open Field_ + +HINZE (_with cane, knapsack, and bag_). + +Splendid weather! It's such a +beautiful, warm day; afterward I must lie down a bit in the sun. (_He +spreads out his bag._) Well, fortune, stand by me. Of course, when I +think that this capricious goddess of fortune so seldom favors +shrewdly laid plans, that she always ends up by disgracing the +intelligence of mortals, I feel as though I should lose all my +courage. Yet, be quiet, my heart; a kingdom is certainly worth the +trouble of working and sweating some for it! If only there are no dogs +around here; I can't bear those creatures at all; it is a race that I +despise because they so willingly submit to the lowest servitude to +human beings. They can't do anything but either fawn or bite; they +haven't fashionable manners at all, a thing which is so necessary in +company. There's no game to be caught. (_He begins to sing a hunting +song: "I steal through the woods so still and wild," etc. A +nightingale in the bush near-by begins to sing._) She sings +gloriously, the songstress of the grove; but how delicious she must +taste! The great people of the earth are, after all, right lucky in +the fact that they can eat as many nightingales and larks as they +like; we poor common people must content ourselves with their singing, +with the beauty in nature, with the incomprehensibly sweet harmony. +It's a shame I can't hear anything sing without getting a desire to +eat it. Nature! Nature! Why do you always destroy my finest emotions +by having created me thus! I feel almost like taking off my boots and +softly climbing up that tree yonder; she must be perching there. +(_Stamping in the pit._) The nightingale is good-natured not to let +herself be interrupted even by this martial music; she must taste +delicious; I am forgetting all about my hunting with these sweet +dreams. Truly, there's no game to be caught. Why, who's there? + + [_Two lovers enter._] + +HE. + +I say, my sweet life, do you hear the nightingale? + +SHE. + +I am not deaf, my good friend. + +HE. + +How my heart overflows with joyousness when I see all harmonious +nature thus gathered about me, when every tone but reechoes the +confession of my love, when all heaven bows down to diffuse its ether +over me. + +SHE. + +You are raving, my dear! + +HE. + +Do not call the most natural emotions of my heart raving. (_He +kneels down._) See, I swear to you, here in the presence of glad +heaven-- + +HINZE (_approaching them courteously_). + +Kindly pardon me--would you +not take the trouble to go somewhere else? You are disturbing a hunt +here with your lovely affection. + +HE. + +Be the sun my witness, the earth--and what else? Thou, thyself, +dearer to me than earth, sun, and all the elements. What is it, good +friend? + +HINZE. + +The hunt--I beg most humbly. + +HE. + +Barbarian, who are you, to dare to interrupt the oaths of love? +You are not of woman born, you belong outside humanity. + +HINZE. + +If you would only consider, sir-- + +SHE. + +Then wait just a second, good friend; you see, I'm sure, that my +lover, lost in the intoxication of the moment, is down on his knees. + +HE. + +Dost thou believe me now? + +SHE. + +Oh, didn't I believe you even before you spoke a word? (_She +bends down to him affectionately._) Dearest! I love you! Oh, +inexpressibly! + +HE. + +Am I mad? Oh, and if I am not, why do I not become so immediately +with excess of joy, wretched, despicable creature that I am? I am no +longer on the earth; look at me well, dearest, and tell me: Am I not +perhaps standing in the sun? + +SHE. + +You are in my arms, and they shall never release you either. + +HE. + +Oh, come, this open field is too narrow for my emotions, we must +climb the highest mountain, to tell all nature how happy we are. + +[_Exit the lovers, quickly and full of delight. Loud applause and +bravos in the pit._] + +WIESENER (_clapping_). + +The lover thoroughly exhausted himself. Oh, my, +I gave myself such a blow on the hand that it swelled right up. + +NEIGHBOR. + +You do not know how to restrain yourself when you are glad. + +WIESENER. + +Yes, I am always that way. + +FISCHER. + +Ah!--that was certainly something for the heart; that makes +one feel good again! + +LEUTNER. + +Really beautiful diction in that scene! + +MUeLLER. + +But I wonder whether it is essential to the whole? + +SCHLOSS. + +I never worry about the whole; if I cry, I cry--that's +enough; that was a divine passage. + +HINZE. + +Such a pair of lovers is good for something in the world after +all; they have fallen plump into the poetical again down there and the +stamping has ceased. There's no game to be caught. + +(_A rabbit creeps into the bag; he rushes over and draws the strings +over him._) + +Look here, good friend! A kind of game that is a cousin of mine, so to +speak; yes, that's the way with the world nowadays, relatives against +relatives, brother against brother; if one wants to get through the +world oneself, one must push others out of the way. + +(_He takes the rabbit out of the bag and puts it into the knapsack._) + +Hold! Hold!--truly I must take care not to devour the game myself. I +must just tie up the knapsack quickly only to be able to restrain my +passion. Fie! for shame, Hinze! Is it not the duty of the nobleman to +sacrifice himself and his desires to the happiness of his brother +creatures? That's the reason why we live, and whoever cannot do +that--oh, it were better for him if he had never been born! + +(_He is on the point of withdrawing; violent applause and shouting of +"Encore;" he has to repeat the last beautiful passage, then he bows +respectfully and goes of with the rabbit._) + +FISCHER. + +Oh, what a noble man! + +MUeLLER. + +What a beautifully human state of mind! + +SCHLOSS. + +One can still be benefited by things like this, but when I +see such nonsense I should like to smash it with a single blow. + +LEUTNER. + +I began to feel quite sad too--the nightingale--the +lovers--the last tirade--why the play has some really beautiful +passages after all! + +_Hall in the palace_ + +_Large company. The_ KING. _The_ PRINCESS. _Prince_ NATHANIEL. _The_ +COOK (_in gala costume_) + +KING (_sitting on throne_). + +Over here, cook; now is the time to speak +and answer; I want to examine the matter myself. + +COOK (_falls on his knees_). + +May it please your majesty to express +your commands for your highness's most faithful servant? + +KING. + +One cannot expend too much effort, my friends, in keeping a +king--on whose shoulders lies the well-being of a whole country and +that of innumerable subjects--always in good humor. For if he falls +into a bad humor, he very easily becomes a tyrant, a monster; for good +humor encourages cheerfulness, and cheerfulness, according to the +observations of all philosophers, makes man good; whereas melancholy, +on the other hand, is to be considered a vice for the very reason that +it encourages all the vices. Whose duty is it, I now ask, in whose +power does it so lie, to preserve the good spirits of the monarch, so +much as in the hands of a cook? Are not rabbits very innocent animals? +My favorite dish--by means of these animals I could succeed in never +becoming tired of making my country happy--and these rabbits he lets +me do without! Sucking pigs and sucking pigs daily. Rascal, I am +disgusted with this at last! + +COOK. + +Let not my king condemn me unheard. Heaven is my witness, that I +took all pains to secure those pretty white animals; I even wanted to +purchase them at a rather high price, but there are absolutely none to +be had. If it were possible to get possession of even one of these +rabbits, do you think you would be allowed to doubt for one moment +longer the love your subjects bear you? + +KING. + +Stop with those roguish words, betake yourself to the kitchen +and show by your action that you love your king. (_Exit cook._) Now I +turn to you, my prince, and to you my daughter. I have been informed, +worthy prince, that my daughter does not love you; she is a +thoughtless, silly girl, but I still give her credit for so much +common sense as probably to have several reasons. She causes me care +and sadness, grief and worry, and my old eyes are flooded with tears +when I think of how she will get along after my death. "You will be +left an old maid," I have told her a thousand times; "take your chance +while it is offered you;" but she will not hear; well, then she'll +have to be made to feel. + +PRINCESS. + +My father-- + +KING (_weeping and sobbing_). + +Go, ungrateful, disobedient girl--by +your refusal you are drawing me into--alas, only too early a grave! +(_He supports himself on the throne, covers his face with his cloak +and weeps bitterly._) + +FISCHER. + +Why, the king does not remain true to his character for a +moment. + + [_Groom of the Chamber comes in._] + +GROOM. + +Your majesty, a strange man is outside and begs to be admitted +before your majesty. + +KING (_sobbing_). + +Who is it? + +GROOM. + +I beg pardon, my king, for not being able to answer this +question. Judging by his long white beard, one should say he is an old +man, and his face completely covered with hair should almost confirm +one in this opinion, but then again he has such bright, youthful eyes, +such a smooth, flexible back, that one cannot understand him. He +appears to be a wealthy man; for he is wearing a pair of fine boots +and as far as I can infer from his exterior he seems to be a hunter. + +KING. + +Bring him in; I am curious to see him. + + [_Groom goes and returns directly with_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +With your majesty's most gracious permission the Count of +Carabas makes bold to present you with a rabbit. + +KING (_delighted_). + +A rabbit? Do you hear it, really, people? Ah, fate +has become reconciled with me again! A rabbit? + +HINZE (_takes it out of his knapsack_). + +Here, great monarch! + +KING. + +Here--just hold the sceptre a moment, prince. (_He feels the +rabbit._) Fat! nice and fat! From the Count of ---- + +HINZE. + +Carabas. + +KING. + +Indeed, he must be an excellent man. I must become better +acquainted with him. Who is the man? Which of you knows him? Why does +he keep himself concealed? If such heads as that are allowed to remain +idle, what will become of our throne! I would cry for joy. _Sends me a +rabbit!_ Groom, give it to the cook directly. + + [_Groom takes it. Exit._] + +NATHAN. + +My king, I beg most humbly to make my departure. + +KING. + +Why, indeed! I had almost forgotten that in my joy! Farewell, +prince, yes, you must make room for other suitors; it cannot be +otherwise. Adieu! I wish you had a highroad all the way home. + + [_Prince kisses his hand. Exit._] + +KING (_shouting_). + +People! Let my historian come! + + [_The historian appears._] + +KING. + +Here, friend, come, here's some material for our history of the +world. You have your book with you, of course! + +HISTORIAN. + +Yes, my king. + +KING. + +Now enter immediately, that on such and such a day (whatever +date we happen to have today) the Count of Carabas sent me a present +of a most delicious rabbit. + + [HISTORIAN _seats himself and writes._] + +KING. + +Do not forget, _Anno currentis_. I must think of everything, +otherwise it's always sure to be done wrong. (_Blast of a trumpet is +heard._) Ah, dinner is ready--come, my daughter, do not weep; if it +isn't one prince, it will be another. Hunter, we thank you for your +trouble. Will you accompany us to the dining-room? + +(_They go_, HINZE _follows_.) + +LEUTNER. + +Pretty soon I shall not be able to stand it any longer; why, +what has happened to the father now, who was so tender to his daughter +at first and touched us all so? + +FISCHER. + +The only thing that vexes me is that not a person in the play +wonders at the cat; the king and all act as though it had to be so. + +SCHLOSS. + +My head is all dizzy with this queer stuff. + +_Royal dining-room_ + +_Large table set. Sound of drums and trumpets. Enter the_ KING, _the_ +PRINCESS, LEANDER, HINZE, _several distinguished guests and_ +JACKPUDDING, _Servants, waiting at the table._ + +KING. + +Let us sit down, otherwise the soup will get cold! Has the +hunter been taken care of? + +SERVANT. + +Yes, your majesty, he will eat at the little table here with +the court fool. + +JACKPUDDING (_to_ HINZE). + +Let us sit down, otherwise the soup will get +cold. + +HINZE (_sits down_). + +With whom have I the honor of dining? + +JACKPUD. + +A man is what he is, Sir Hunter; we cannot all do the same +thing. I am a poor, exiled fugitive, a man who was once, a long time +ago, witty, but who has now become stupid and re-entered service in a +foreign land where he is again considered witty for a while. + +HINZE. + +From what country do you come? + +JACKPUD. + +Unfortunately, only Germany. My countrymen became so wise +about a certain time that they finally forbade all jokes on pain of +punishment; wherever I was seen, I was called by unbearable nicknames, +such as: Absurd, indecent, bizarre--whoever laughed at me was +persecuted like myself, and so I was compelled to go into exile. + +HINZE. + +Poor man! + +JACKPUD. + +There are strange trades in the world, Sir Hunter; cooks live +by eating, tailors by vanity, I, by the laughter of human beings; if +they cease to laugh I must starve. + +[_Murmuring in the pit: A Jackpudding! A Jackpudding!_] + +HINZE. + +I do not eat that vegetable. + +JACKPUD. + +Why? Don't be bashful, help yourself. + +HINZE. + +I tell you, white cabbage does not agree with me. + +JACKPUD. + +It will taste all the better to me. Give me your hand! I must +become better acquainted with you, Sir Hunter. + +HINZE. + +Here! + +JACKPUD. + +Take here the hand of an honest German fellow; I am not +ashamed of being German, as many of my countrymen are. (_He presses +the cat's hand very tightly._) + +HINZE. + +Ow! Ow! (_He resists, growls, clutches_ JACKPUDDING.) + +JACKPUD. + +Oh! Hunter! Are you possessed of the devil? (_He rises and +goes to the king weeping._) Your majesty, the hunter is a perfidious +man; just look at the remembrance of his five fingers he has left on +me. + +KING (_eating_). + +Strange! Now sit down again; wear gloves in the +future when you give him your hand. + +JACKPUD. + +One must guard against you. + +HINZE. + +Why did you take such a hold on me? The deuce take your +pretended honesty! + +JACKPUD. + +Why, you scratch like a cat! + + [HINZE _laughs maliciously_.] + +KING. + +But what's the trouble today, anyhow? Why is there no +intelligent conversation carried on at the table? I do not enjoy a +bite unless my mind has some nourishment too. Court scholar, did you +perhaps fall on your head today? + +LEANDER (_eating_). + +May it please your majesty-- + +KING. + +How far is the sun from the earth? + +LEANDER. + +Two million four hundred thousand and seventy-one-miles. + +KING. + +And the circle in which the planets revolve? + +LEANDER. + +A hundred thousand million miles. + +KING. + +A hundred thousand million! There's nothing in the world I like +better to hear than such great numbers--millions, trillions--that +gives you--something to think about. It's a good deal, isn't it, a +thousand million, more or less? + +LEANDER. + +Human intelligence grows with the numbers. + +KING. + + But tell me, about how large is the whole world in general, +counting fixed stars, milky ways, hoods of mist, and all that? + +LEANDER. + +That cannot be expressed at all. + +KING. + +But you are to express it or (_threatening with his sceptre_)-- + +LEANDER. + +If we consider a million as one, then about ten hundred +thousand trillions of such units which of themselves amount to a +million. + +KING. + +Just think, children, think! Would you believe this bit of +world could be so great? But how that occupies the mind! + +JACKPUD. + +Your majesty, this bowl of rice here seems to me sublimer. + +KING. + +How's that, fool? + +JACKPUD. + +Such sublimities of numbers give no food for thought; one +cannot think, for of course the highest number always finally becomes +the smallest again. Why, you just have to think of all the numbers +possible. I can never count beyond five here. + +KING. + +But say, there's some truth in that. Scholar, how many numbers +are there, anyhow? + +LEANDER. + +An infinite number. + +KING. + +Just tell me quickly the highest number. + +LEANDER. + +There is no highest, because you can always add something to +the highest; human intelligence knows no bounds in this respect. + +KING. + +But in truth it is a remarkable thing, this human mind. + +HINZE. + +You must get disgusted with being a fool here. + +JACKPUD. + +You can introduce nothing new; there are too many working at +the trade. + +LEANDER. + +The fool, my king, can never understand such a thing; on the +whole I am surprised that your majesty is still amused by his insipid +ideas. Even in Germany they tired of him, and here in Utopia you have +taken him up where thousands of the most wonderful and clever +amusements are at our service. He should be thrown out at once, for he +only brings your taste into bad repute. + +KING (_throws the sceptre at his head_). + +Sir Brazenbold of a scholar! +What do you dare to say? The fool pleases _me, me_, his king, and if I +like him, how dare you say that the man is ridiculous? You are the +court scholar and he the court fool; you both have equal positions; +the only difference is that he is dining at the little table with the +strange hunter. The fool displays his nonsense at the table, and you +carry on an intelligent conversation at the table; both are only to +while away the time for me and make my meal taste good: where, then, +lies the great difference? Furthermore, it does us good to see a fool +who is more stupid than we, who has not the same gifts; why, then, one +feels greater oneself and is grateful to heaven; even on that account +I like to have a blockhead around. + + [THE COOK _serves the rabbit and goes_.] + +KING. + +The rabbit! I do not know--I suppose the other gentlemen do not +care for it? + +ALL (_bow_). + +KING. + +Well, then, with your permission, I will keep it for myself. +(_He eats._) + +PRINCESS. + +It seems to me the king is making faces as though he were +getting an attack again. + +KING (_rising in rage_). + +The rabbit is burned! Oh, earth! Oh, pain! +What keeps me from sending the cook right down to Orcus as fast as +possible? + +PRINCESS. + +My father! + +KING. + +How did this stranger lose his way among the people? His eyes +are dry-- + +ALL (_arise very sadly_, JACKPUDDING _runs back and forth busily_, +HINZE _remains seated and eats steadily_). + +KING. + +A long, long, good night; no morning will ever brighten it. + +PRINCESS. + +Do have some one fetch the peacemaker. + +KING. + +May the Cook Philip be Hell's cry of jubilee when an ungrateful +wretch is burned to ashes! + +PRINCESS. + +Where can the musician be! + +KING. + +To be or not to be-- + +[_The peacemaker enters with a set of musical bells and begins to play +them at once._] + +KING. + +What is the matter with me? (_Weeping._) Alas! I have already +had my attack again. Have the rabbit taken out of my sight. (_He lays +his head on the table, full of grief, and sobs._) + +COURTIER. + +His majesty suffers much. + +[_Violent stamping and whistling in the pit; they cough, they hiss; +those in the gallery laugh; the king gets up, arranges his cloak and +sits down majestically with his sceptre. It is all in vain; the noise +continues to increase, all the actors forget their parts, a terrible +pause on the stage. HINZE has climbed up a pillar. The author appears +on the stage, overcome._] + +AUTHOR. + +Gentlemen--most honorable public--just a few words! + +IN THE PIT. + +Quiet! Quiet! The fool wishes to speak! + +AUTHOR. + +For the sake of heaven, do not disgrace me thus; why, the act +will be over directly. Just look, the king, too, is again calmed; take +an example from this great soul which certainly has more reason to be +vexed than you. + +FISCHER. + +More than we? + +WIESENER (_to his neighbor_). + +But I wonder why you are stamping? We +two like the play, do we not? + +NEIGHBOR. + +That's true too--absent-mindedly, because they're all doing +it. (_Claps with might and main._) + +AUTHOR. + +A few voices are still favorable to me, however. For pity, do +put up with my poor play; a rogue gives more than he has, and it will +be over soon, too. I am so confused and frightened that I can think +of nothing else to say to you. + +ALL. + +We want to hear nothing, know nothing. + +AUTHOR (_raging, drags the peacemaker forward_). + +The king is calmed, +now calm this raging flood too, if you can. (_Beside himself, rushes +off._) + +[_The peacemaker plays on his bells, the stamping keeps time with the +melody; he motions; monkeys and bears appear and dance fondly around +him. Eagles and other birds. An eagle sits on the head of HINZE who is +very much afraid; two elephants, two lions. Ballet and singing._] + +THE FOUR-FOOTED ANIMALS. + +That sounds so beautiful! + +THE BIRDS. + +That sounds so lovely! + +CHORUS TOGETHER. + +Never have I seen or heard the like! + +[_Hereupon an artistic quadrille is danced by all present, the king +and his court retinue are taken into the centre, HINZE and JACKPUDDING +not excluded; general applause. Laughter; people standing up in pit to +see better; several hats fall down from the gallery._] + +THE PEACEMAKER (_sings during the ballet and the audience's general +expression of pleasure_). + + + Could only all good men + Soft bells like these discover + Each enemy would then + With ease be turned to lover. + And life without bad friends would be + All sweet and lovely harmony. + + +[_The curtain falls, all shout and applaud, the ballet is heard +awhile._] + + +INTERLUDE + +WIESENER. + +Splendid! Splendid! + +NEIGHBOR. + +Well, I'd certainly call that a heroic ballet. + +WIESENER. + +And so beautifully woven into the main plot! + +LEUTNER. + +Beautiful music! + +FISCHER. + +Divine! + +SCHLOSS. + +The ballet is the only redeeming feature of the play. + +BOeTTICH. + +I still keep on admiring the acting of the cat. In such +details one recognizes the great and experienced actor; for example, +as often as he took the rabbit out of the sack, he always lifted it by +the ears; that was not prescribed for him; I wonder whether you +noticed how the king grasped it at once by the body? But these animals +are held by the ears because that is where they can best bear it. +That's what I call a master! + +MUeLLER. + +That is a very fine explanation. + +FISCHER (_aside_). + +He himself ought to be lifted by the ears for it. + +BOeTTICH. + +And his terror when the eagle was sitting on his head! How he +did not even move for fear, did not stir or budge--it is beyond +description! + +MUeLLER. + +You go very deeply into the matter. + +BOeTTICH. + +I flatter myself I am a bit of a connoisseur; that is of +course not the case with all of you, and for that reason the matter +must be demonstrated to you. + +FISCHER. + +You are taking great pains! + +BOeTTICH. + +Oh, when you love art as I do it is a pleasant task! Just now +a very acute thought also occurred to me concerning the cat's boots, +and in them I admire the genius of the actor. You see, at first be is +a cat; for that reason he must lay aside his natural clothing in order +to assume the appropriate disguise of a cat. Then he has to appear +fully as a hunter; that is what I conclude, for every one calls him +that, nor does a soul marvel at him; an unskilful actor would have +dressed himself exactly so too, but what would have happened to our +illusion? We might perhaps have forgotten that he was still originally +a cat and how uncomfortable a new costume would be for the actor over +the fur he already had. By means of the boots, however, he merely +skilfully suggests the hunter's costume; and that such suggestions are +extremely dramatic, the ancients prove to us very excellently, in +often-- + +FISCHER. + +Hush! The third act is beginning. + + + +ACT III + + +_Room in a peasant's house_ + +_The_ PLAYWRIGHT. _The_ MACHINIST. + + +MACHIN. + +Then do you really think that will do any good? + +PLAYWR. + +I beg, I entreat you, do not refuse my request; my only hope +depends on it. + +LEUTNER. + +Why, what's this again? How did these people ever get into +Gottlieb's room? + +SCHLOSS. + +I won't rack my brains about anything more. + +MACHIN. + +But, dear friend, you certainly do ask too much, to have all +this done in such a hurry, entirely on the spur of the moment. + +PLAYWR. + +I believe you are against me, too; you also rejoice in my +misfortune. + +MACHIN. + +Not in the least. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_falls down before him_). + +Then prove it to me by yielding +to my request; if the disapproval of the audience breaks out so loudly +again, then at a motion from me let all the machines play; as it is, +the second act has already closed quite differently from the way it +reads in my manuscript. + +MACHIN. + +What's this now? Why, who raised the curtain? + +PLAYWR. + +It never rains but it pours! I am lost! (_He rushes in +embarrassment behind the scenes._) + +MACHIN. + +There never has been such a confusion on any evening. + + [_Exit. A pause._] + +WIESENER. + +I say, does that belong to the play? + +NEIGHBOR. + +Of course--why that motivates the transformation to follow. + +FISCHER. + +This evening ought certainly to be described in the theatre +almanac. + +KING (_behind the scenes_). + +No, I will not appear, on no condition; I +cannot bear to have any one laugh at me. + +PLAYWR. + +But you--dearest friend--it can't be changed now. + +JACKPUD. + +Well, I will try my luck. (_He steps forward and bows +comically to the audience._) + +MUeLLER. + +Why, what is Jackpudding doing in the peasant's room now? + +SCHLOSS. + +I suppose he wants to deliver a ridiculous monologue. + +JACKPUD. + +Pardon me if I make bold to say a few words which do not +exactly belong to the play. + +FISCHER. + +Oh, you should keep perfectly quiet, we're tired of you even +in the play; moreover, now so very-- + +SCHLOSS. + +A Jackpudding dares to talk to us? + +JACKPUD. + +Why not? For if people laugh at me, I am not hurt at all; +why, it would be my warmest wish to have you laugh at me. So do not +hesitate. + +LEUTNER. + +That is pretty funny! + +JACKPUD. + +Naturally, what scarcely befits the king is all the more +fitting for me; hence he would not appear, but left this important +announcement to me. + +MUeLLER. + +But we do not wish to hear anything. + +JACKPUD. + +My dear German countrymen-- + +SCHLOSS. + +I believe the setting of the play is in Asia. + +JACKPUD. + +But now, you see, I am talking to you merely as an actor to +the spectators. + +SCHLOSS. + +People, it's all over with me now; I am crazy. + +JACKPUD. + +Do be pleased to hear that the former scene, which you just +saw, is not part of the play at all. + +FISCHER. + +Not part of the play? Then how does it get in there? + +JACKPUD. + +The curtain was raised too soon. It was a private discussion +which would not have taken place on the stage at all if it were not so +horribly crowded behind the scenes. Now if you were deceived, it is of +course so much the worse; then just be kind enough to eradicate this +delusion again; for from now on, do you understand me, only after I +have gone away, will the act really begin. Between you and me, all the +preceding has nothing to do with it at all. But you are to be +compensated; much is coming soon which is very essential to the plot. +I have spoken to the playwright myself and he has assured me of it. + +FISCHER. + +Yes, your playwright is just the fellow. + +JACKPUD. + +He's good for nothing, isn't it so? Well, I am glad after +all, that there is still some one else who has the same taste as I-- + +THE PIT. + +All of us, all of us! + +JACKPUD. + +Your obedient servant; it is too great an honor by far. Yes, +God knows, he is a wretched writer--only to give a bad example; what a +miserable part he has given me! Where, pray, am I witty and funny? I +appear in so few scenes, and I believe, if I hadn't stepped forward +even now, by a lucky chance, I should not have appeared again at all. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_rushing forward_). + +Impudent fellow-- + +JACKPUD. + +Look, he is even jealous of the small part I am playing now. + +PLAYWRIGHT (_on the other side of the stage with a bow_). + +Worthy +friends! I never should have dared to give this man a more important +part since I know your taste-- + +JACKPUDDING (_on the other side_). + +_Your_ taste? Now you see his +jealousy--and they have all just declared that my taste is the same as +theirs. + +PLAYWR. + +I wished, by means of the present play, only to prepare you +for even more extravagant products of the imagination. + +ALL IN THE PIT. + +How? What? + +JACKPUD. + +Of course for plays in which I would have no part to act at +all. + +PLAYWR. + +For the development of this matter must advance step by step. + +JACKPUD. + +Don't believe a word he says! + +PLAYWR. + +Now I withdraw, not to interrupt the course of the play any +longer. + + [_Exit._] + +JACKPUD. + +Adieu, until we meet again. (_Exit, returns again quickly._) +_Apropos_--another thing--the discussion which has just taken place +among us is not part of the play either. + + [_Exit._] + +THE PIT (_laughs_). + +JACKPUDDING (_returns again quickly_). + +Let us finish the wretched play +today; make believe you do not notice at all how bad it is; as soon as +I get home I'll sit down and write one for you that you will certainly +like. + + [_Exit, some applause._] + +(_Enter_ GOTTLIEB _and_ HINZE) + +GOTTLIEB. + +Dear Hinze, it is true you are doing much for me, but I +still cannot understand what good it is going to do me. + +HINZE. + +Upon my word, I want to make you happy. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Happiness must come soon, very soon, otherwise it will be +too late; it is already half past seven and the comedy ends at eight. + +HINZE. + +Say, what the devil does that mean? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Oh, I was lost in thought--See! I meant to say, how +beautifully the sun has risen. The accursed prompter speaks so +indistinctly; and then if you want to extemporize once in a while, it +always goes wrong. + +HINZE (_quietly_). + +Do bethink yourself, otherwise the whole play will +break in a thousand pieces. + +SCHLOSS. + +I wish somebody would tell me why I can no longer understand +anything. + +FISCHER. + +My intelligence is at a standstill too. + +GOTTLIEB. + +So my fortune is yet to be determined today? + +HINZE. + +Yes, dear Gottlieb, even before the sun sets. See, I love you +so much that I would run through fire for you--and you doubt my +sincerity? + +WIESENER. + +Did you hear that? He is going to run through fire. Ah, +fine, here we get the scene from the _Magic Flute_ too, with the fire +and the water! + +NEIGHBOR. + +But cats do not go into the water. + +WIESENER. + +Why so much the greater is the cat's love for his master, +you see; that's just what the author wants to make us understand. + +HINZE. + +Now what would you like to become in the world, anyhow? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Oh, I don't know, myself. + +HINZE. + +Perhaps you'd like to become a prince, or a king? + +GOTTLIEB. + +That, better than anything. + +HINZE. + +And do you also feel the strength within you to make a nation +happy? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Why not? If only I am once happy myself. + +HINZE. + +Well, then content yourself. I swear to you, you shall mount +the throne. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB. + +It would have to come about mysteriously--still, of course, +so many unexpected things happen in the world. + + [_Exit._] + +BOeTTICH. + +Do notice the infinite refinement with which the cat always +holds his cane. + +FISCHER. + +You've been a bore to us for the longest while; you are even +more tiresome than the play. + +SCHLOSS. + +You even add to the confusion in our heads. + +MUeLLER. + +You talk constantly and do not know what you want. + +MANY VOICES. + +Out! Out! He's a nuisance! (_A crowd;_ BOeTTICHER _finds +himself compelled to leave the theatre._) + +FISCHER. + +He with his talk about refinement! + +SCHLOSS. + +He always vexes me when he considers himself a connoisseur. + +_An open field_ + +HINZE (_with knapsack and bag_). + +I have become quite accustomed to +hunting. Every day I catch partridges, rabbits and the like, and the +dear little animals are getting more and more practice in being +caught. (_He spreads out his bag._) Now the season of the nightingales +is over, I do not hear a single one singing. + + [_Enter the two lovers._] + +HE. + +Go, you bore me. + +SHE. + +I am disgusted with you. + +HE. + +A fine kind of love! + +SHE. + +Wretched hypocrite, how you have deceived me! + +HE. + +What has become of your infinite tenderness? + +SHE. + +And your faithfulness? + +HE. + +Your rapture? + +SHE. + +Your infatuation? + +BOTH. + +The devil has taken it! That comes of marrying. + +HINZE. + +The hunt has never yet been so disturbed--if you would be +pleased to notice that this open field is clearly too confined for +your sorrows, and climb up some mountain. + +HE. + +Insolent wretch! (_Boxes_ HINZE _on the ear._) + +SHE. + +Boor! (_Also boxes_ HINZE _on the ear._) + +HINZE (_purrs_). + +SHE. + +It seems best to me that we be parted again. + +HE. + +I am at your bidding. + + [_Exit the lovers._] + +HINZE. + +Nice people, these so-called human beings. Just look, two +partridges; I will carry them off quickly. Now, fortune, make haste, +for I myself am almost getting impatient. Now I have no longer any +desire to eat the partridges. It's probably thus, that, by mere habit, +we can implant in our nature every possible virtue. + + [_Exit._] + +_Hall in the Palace_ + +_The_ KING _on his throne with the_ PRINCESS; LEANDER _in a lecturer's +chair; opposite him_ JACKPUDDING _in another lecturer's chair; in the +centre of the hall a costly hat, decorated with gold and precious +stones, is fastened on a high pole. The entire court is present._ + +KING. + +Never yet has a person rendered such services to his country as +this amiable Count of Carabas. Our historian has already almost filled +a thick volume, so often has the Count presented me with pretty and +delicious gifts, sometimes even twice a day, through his hunter. My +appreciation of his kindness is boundless and I desire nothing more +earnestly than to find at some time the opportunity of discharging to +some extent the great debt I owe him. + +PRINCESS. + +Dearest father, would your majesty not most graciously +permit the learned disputation to begin? My heart yearns for this +mental activity. + +KING. + +Yes, it may begin now. Court scholar--court fool--you both know +that to the one who gains the victory in this disputation is allotted +that costly hat; for this very reason have I had it set up here, so +that you may have it always before your eyes and never be in want of +quick wit. + + [LEANDER _and_ JACKPUDDING _bow_.] + +LEANDER. + +The theme of my assertion is, that a recently published play +by the name of _Puss in Boots_ is a good play. + +JACKPUD. + +That is just what I deny. + +LEANDER. + +Prove that it is bad. + +JACKPUD. + +Prove that it is good. + +LEUTNER. + +What's this again? Why that's the very play they are giving +here, if I am not mistaken. + +MUeLLER. + +No other. + +SCHLOSS. + +Do tell me whether I am awake and have my eyes open. + +LEANDER. + +The play, if not perfectly excellent, is still to be praised +in several respects. + +JACKPUD. + +Not one respect. + +LEANDER. + +I assert that it displays wit. + +JACKPUD. + +I assert that it displays none. + +LEANDER. + +You are a fool; how can you pretend to judge concerning wit? + +JACKPUD. + +And you are a scholar; what can you pretend to understand +about wit? + +LEANDER. + +Several characters are well-sustained. + +JACKPUD. + +Not a single one. + +LEANDER. + +Then, even if I concede else, the audience is well drawn in +it. + +JACKPUD. + +An audience never has a character. + +LEANDER. + +I am almost amazed at this boldness. + +JACKPUD (_to the pit_). + +Isn't he a foolish fellow? Here we are, hand +and glove with each other and sympathize in our views on taste, and he +wishes to assert in opposition to my opinion, that at least the +audience in _Puss in Boots_ is well drawn. + +FISCHER. + +The audience? Why no audience appears in the play. + +JACKPUD. + +That's even better! So, then, no audience is presented in it +at all? + +MUeLLER. + +Why not a bit of it, unless he means the several kinds of +fools that appear. + +JACKPUD. + +Now, do you see, scholar! What these gentlemen down there are +saying must certainly be true. + +LEANDER. + +I am getting confused, but still I won't yield the victory to +you. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +JACKPUD. + +Sir Hunter, a word! (HINZE _approaches, they whisper._) + +HINZE. +If it's nothing more than that. (_He takes off his boots, +climbs up the pole, then takes the hat, jumps down, then puts his +boots on again._) + +JACKPUD. + +Victory! Victory! + +KING. + +The deuce! How clever the hunter is! + +LEANDER. + +I only regret that I have been vanquished by a fool, that +learning must acknowledge foolishness as its superior. + +KING. + +Keep still; you wanted the hat, he wanted the hat; so again I +see no difference. But what have you brought, hunter? + +HINZE. + +The Count of Carabas commends himself most respectfully to your +majesty and sends you these two partridges. + +KING. + +Too much! too much! I am sinking under the burden of gratitude! +Long since should I have done my duty and visited him; today I will +delay no longer. Have my royal carriage prepared at once--eight horses +in front--I want to go driving with my daughter. You, Hunter, are to +show us the way to the castle of the count. + + [_Exit with retinue._] + +HINZE. JACKPUDDING + +HINZE. + +What was your disputation about, anyhow? + +JACKPUD. + +I asserted that a certain play, which, moreover, I am not +acquainted with at all, _Puss in Boots_, is a wretched play. + +HINZE. + +So? + +JACKPUD. + +Adieu, Sir Hunter. + + [_Exit._] + +HINZE (_alone_). + +I'm all in the dumps. I, myself, helped the fool win +a victory against a play in which I myself am taking the leading part. +Fate! Fate! Into what complications do you so often lead us mortals? +But be that as it may. If I only succeed in putting my beloved +Gottlieb on the throne, I will gladly forget all my other troubles. +The king wishes to visit the count? Now that is another bad situation +which I must clear up; now the great, important day has arrived on +which I need you so particularly, you boots. Now do not desert me; all +must be determined today. + + [_Exit._] + +FISCHER. + +Do tell me what this is--the play itself--it appears again as +a play in the play. + +SCHLOSS. + +Without much ceremony, I am crazy--didn't I say at once, that +is the enjoyment of art which you are said to have here? + +LEUTNER. + +No tragedy has ever affected me as this farce has. + +_In front of the tavern_ + +THE HOST (_reaping corn with a scythe_). + +This is hard work! Well, of +course people cannot be deserting every day either. I only wish the +harvest were over. After all, life consists of nothing but work; now +draw beer, then clean glasses, then pour it out--now even reap. Life +means work--and here some learned folk are even so wicked, in their +books, as to try to put sleep out of fashion, because one does not +live enough for one's time. But I am a great friend of sleep. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +Whoever wants to hear something wonderful, listen to me now! How I +have been running!--first from the royal palace to Gottlieb, second +with Gottlieb to the palace of the Bugbear where I left him, third +from there back again to the king, fourth I am now racing ahead of the +king's coach like a courier and showing him the way. Hey! good friend! + +HOST. + +Who's that? Countryman, you must probably be a stranger, for the +people in this neighborhood know that I do not sell any beer about +this time; I need it for myself; when one does work like mine, one +must also fortify one's self. I am sorry, but I cannot help you. + +HINZE. + +I do not want any beer, I never drink beer; I only want to say +a few words to you. + +HOST. + +You must certainly be a regular idler, to attempt to disturb +industrious people in their occupation. + +HINZE. + +I do not wish to disturb you. Just listen: the neighboring king +will drive by here, he will probably step out of his carriage and +inquire to whom these villages belong. If your life is dear to you, if +you do not wish to be hanged or burned, then be sure to answer: to the +Count of Carabas. + +HOST. + +But, Sir, we are subject to the law. + +HINZE. + +I know that well enough, but, as I said, if you do not wish to +die, this region here belongs to the Count of Carabas. + + [_Exit._] + +HOST. + +Many thanks! Now this would be the finest kind of opportunity +for me to get out of ever having to work again. All I need do is to +say to the king--the country belongs to the Bugbear. But no, idleness +breeds vice: _Ora et labora_ is my motto. + +[_A fine carriage with eight horses, many servants behind; it stops; +the_ KING _and_ PRINCESS _step out._] + +PRINCESS. + +I am somewhat curious to see the Count. + +KING. + +So am I, my daughter. Good day, my friend. To whom do these +villages here belong? + +HOST (_aside_). + +He asks as though he were ready to have me hanged at +once.--To the Count of Carabas, your majesty. + +KING. + +A beautiful country. But I always thought the country must look +altogether different if I should cross the border, judging from the +maps. Do help me a bit. (_He climbs up a tree quickly._) + +PRINCESS. + +What are you doing, my royal father? + +KING. + +I like open views on beautiful landscapes. + +PRINCESS. + +Can you see far? + +KING. + +Oh, yes, and if it were not for those annoying mountains, you +would see even further. Oh, my, the tree is full of caterpillars! (_He +climbs down again._) + +PRINCESS. + +That is because it is a scene in nature which has not yet +been idealized; imagination must first ennoble it. + +KING. + +I wish you could take the caterpillars off me by means of +imagination. But get in, we must drive ahead. + +PRINCESS. + +Farewell, good, innocent peasant. (_They get into the +carriage; it drives on._) + +HOST. + +How the world has changed! If you read in old books or listen to +old people's stories, they always got louis d'ors or something like +that if they spoke to a king or a prince. Such a king would formerly +never dare to open his mouth if he did not press gold pieces into your +hand at once. But now! How, pray, is one to make one's fortune +unexpectedly, if the chance is over even with kings? Innocent peasant! +I wish to God I didn't owe anything--that comes of the new sentimental +descriptions of country life. Such a king is powerful and envies +people of our station. I must only thank God that he did not hang me. +The strange hunter was our Bugbear himself after all. At least it will +now appear in the paper, I suppose, that the king has spoken to me +graciously. [_Exit._] + +_Another region_ + +KUNZ (_reaping corn_). + +Bitter work! And if at least I were doing it +for myself--but this compulsory villainage! Here one must do nothing +but sweat for the Bugbear and he does not even thank one. Of course +they always say in this world that laws are necessary to keep the +people in order, but what need there is here of _our Law_ who devours +all of us, I cannot understand. + + [HINZE _comes running_.] + +HINZE. + +Now I have blisters-on my soles already--well, it doesn't +matter, Gottlieb, Gottlieb must get the throne for it. Hey, good +friend! + +KUNZ. + +Who's _this_ fellow? + +HINZE. + +The king will drive by here directly. If he asks you to whom +all this belongs, you must answer--to the Count of Carabas; otherwise +you will be chopped into a thousand million pieces. For the welfare of +the public, the law desires it thus. + +FISCHER. + +For the welfare of the public? + +SCHLOSS. + +Naturally, for otherwise the play would never end. + +HINZE. + +Your life is probably dear to you. + + [_Exit._] + +KUNZ. + +That's just how the edicts always sound. Well, I don't mind +saying that, if only no new taxes result from it. One must trust no +innovation. + +[_The coach drives up and stops; the_ KING _and the_ PRINCESS _step +out._] + +KING. + +A fine landscape, too. We have already seen a great deal of +very fine country. To whom does this land belong? + +KUNZ. + +To the Count of Carabas. + +KING. + +He has splendid estates, that must be true--and so near mine; +daughter, that seems to be a good match for you. What is your opinion? + +PRINCESS. + +You embarrass me, my father. What new things one sees while +traveling, though. Do tell me, pray, good peasant, why do you cut down +the straw like that? + +KUNZ (_laughing_). + +Why, this is the harvest, Mam'selle Queen--the +corn. + +KING. + +Corn? What do you use that for, pray? + +KUNZ (_laughing_). + +Bread is baked from that. + +KING. + +Pray, daughter, for heaven's sake, bread is baked of it! Who would +ever think of such tricks! Nature is something marvelous, after all. +Here, good friend, get a drink, it is warm today. (_He steps in again +with the_ PRINCESS; _the carriage drives away._) + +KUNZ. + +If he wasn't a king, you'd almost think he was stupid. Doesn't know +what corn is! Well, you learn new things every day, of course. Here he +has given me a shining piece of gold and I'll fetch myself a can of +good beer at once. [_Exit._] + +_Another part of the country, beside a river_ + +GOTTLIEB. + +Now here I've been standing two hours already, waiting for my friend, +Hinze. And he's not coming yet. There he is! But how he's running--he +seems all out of breath. + + [HINZE _comes running._] + +HINZE. + +Well, friend Gottlieb, take off your clothes quickly? + +GOTTLIEB. + +My clothes? + +HINZE. + +And then jump into the water here-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Into the water? + +HINZE. + +And then I will throw the clothing into the bush-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +Into the bush? + +HINZE. + +And then you are provided for! + +GOTTLIEB. + +I agree with you; if I am drowned and my clothes gone, I am well +enough provided for. + +HINZE. + +There is no time for joking-- + +GOTTLIEB. + +I am not joking at all. Is that what I had to wait here for? + +HINZE. + +Undress! + +GOTTLIEB. + +Well, I'll do anything to please you. + +HINZE. + +Come, you are only to take a little bath. (_Exit with_ GOTTLIEB. _Then +he comes back with the clothing which he throws into a bush._) Help! +Help! Help! + +[_The carriage. The_ KING _looks out of the coach door._] + +KING. + +What is it, Hunter? Why do you shout so? + +HINZE. + +Help, your majesty, the Count of Carabas is drowned! + +KING. + +Drowned! + +PRINCESS (_in the carriage_). + +Carabas! + +KING. + +My daughter in a faint! The Count drowned! + +HINZE. + +Perhaps he can still be saved; he is lying there in the water. + +KING. + +Servants! Try everything, anything to preserve the noble man. + +SERVANT. + +We have rescued him, your majesty. + +HINZE. + +Misfortune upon misfortune, my king! The Count was bathing here in the +clear water and a rogue stole his clothing. + +KING. + +Unstrap my trunk at once--give him some of my clothes. Cheer up, +daughter, the Count is rescued. + +HINZE. + +I must hurry. + + [_Exit._] + +GOTTLIEB (_in the king's clothing_). + +Your majesty-- + +KING. + +Here is the Count! I recognize him by my clothing! Step in, my best +friend--how are you? Where do you get all the rabbits? I cannot +compose myself for joy! Drive on, coachman! + + [_The carriage drives off quickly._] + +SERVANT. + +None but the hangman could come up so quickly--now I have the pleasure +of running behind on foot, and besides I'm just as wet as a cat. + +LEUTNER. + +How many more times, pray, will the carriage appear? + +WIESENER. + +Neighbor! Why, you are asleep! + +NEIGHBOR. + +Not at all--a fine play. + +_Palace of the Bugbear_ + +_The_ BUGBEAR _appears as a rhinoceros; a poor peasant stands before +him._ + +PEASANT. + +May it please your honor-- + +BUGBEAR. + +There must be justice, my friend. + +PEASANT. + +I cannot pay just now. + +BUGBEAR. + +Be still, you have lost the case; the law demands money and your +punishment; consequently your land must be sold. There is nothing else +to be done and this is for the sake of justice. + + [_Exit peasant._] + +BUGBEAR (_who is re-transformed into an ordinary bugbear_). + +These people would lose all respect if they were not compelled to fear +in this way. + + [_An officer enters, bowing profusely._] + +OFFICER. + +May it please you, honored sir--I-- + +BUGBEAR. + +What's your trouble, my friend? + +OFFICER. + +With your kindest permission, I tremble and quiver in your +honor's formidable presence. + +BUGBEAR. + +Oh, this is far from my most terrible form. + +OFFICER. + +I really came--in matters--to beg you to take my part against +my neighbor. I had also brought this purse with me--but the presence +of Lord Law is too frightful for me. + +BUGBEAR (_suddenly changes into a mouse and sits in a corner_). + +OFFICER. + +Why, where has the Bugbear gone? + +BUGBEAR (_in a delicate voice_). + +Just put the money down there on the +table; I will sit here to avoid frightening you. + +OFFICER. + +Here. (_He lays the money down_.) Oh, this justice is a +splendid thing--how can one be afraid of such a mouse! + + [_Exit_.] + +BUGBEAR (_assumes his natural form_). + +A pretty good purse--of course +one must sympathize with human weakness. + + [_Enter_ HINZE.] + +HINZE. + +With your permission--(_aside_) Hinze, you must pluck up +courage--(_aloud_) Your Excellency! + +BUGBEAR. + +What do you wish? + +HINZE. + +I am a scholar traveling through this region and wished to take the +liberty of making your excellency's acquaintance. + +BUGBEAR. + +Very well, then, make my acquaintance. + +HINZE. + +You are a mighty prince; your love of justice is known all over the +world. + +BUGBEAR. + +Yes, I don't doubt it. Do sit down! + +HINZE. + +They tell many wonderful things about Your Highness-- + +BUGBEAR. + +Yes, people always want something to talk about and so the reigning +monarchs must be the first to be discussed. + +HINZE. + +But still, there is one thing I cannot believe, that Your Excellency +can transform yourself into an elephant and a tiger. + +BUGBEAR. + +I will give you an example of it at once. (_He changes into a lion_.) + +HINZE (_draws out a portfolio, trembling_). + +Permit me to make note of this marvel--but now would you also please +resume your natural charming form? Otherwise I shall die of fear. + +BUGBEAR (_in his own form_). + +Those are tricks, friend! Don't you +think so? + +HINZE. + +Marvelous! But another thing--they also say you can transform yourself +into very small animals--with your permission, that is even far more +incomprehensible to me; for, do tell me, what becomes of your large +body then? + +BUGBEAR. + +I will do that too. + +[_He changes into a mouse_. HINZE _leaps after him, the Bugbear flees +into another room_, HINZE _after him_.] + +HINZE (_coming back_). + +Freedom and Equality! The Law is devoured! Now indeed the +Tiers--_Etat_! Gottlieb will surely secure the government. + +SCHLOSS. + +Why, a revolutionary play after all? Then for heaven's sake, you +surely shouldn't stamp! + +[_The stamping continues_, WIESENER _and several others applaud_, +HINZE _creeps into a corner and finally even leaves the stage. The +playwright is heard quarreling behind the scenes and then enters_.] + +PLAYWR. + +What am I to do? The play will be over directly--everything would +perhaps have run smoothly--now just in this moral scene I had expected +so much applause. If this were only not so far away from the king's +palace, I would fetch the peacemaker; he explained to me at the end of +the second act all the fables of Orpheus--but am I not a fool? I +became quite confused--why, this is the theatre here, and the +peacemaker must be somewhere behind the scenes--I will look for him--I +must find him--he shall save me! (_Exit, returns again quickly_.) He +is not _there_, Sir Peacemaker! An empty echo mocks me--he has +deserted me, his playwright. Ha! there I see him--he must come +forward. + +[_The pauses are always filled by stamping in the pit and the +playwright delivers this monologue in recitative, so that the effect +is rather melodramatic_.] + +PEACEMAKER (_behind the scenes_). + +No, I will not appear. + +PLAYWR. + +But why not, pray? + +PEACEMAK. + +Why, I have already undressed. + +PLAYWR. + +That doesn't matter. (_He pushes him forward by force_.) + +PEACEMAKER (_appearing in his ordinary dress, with, the set of +bells_). + +Well, you may take the responsibility. (_He plays on the bells and +sings_.) + + These sacred halls of beauty + Revenge have never known. + For love guides back to duty + The man who vice has sown. + Then he is led by friendly hand, + Glad and content, to a better land. + +[_The pit begins to applaud; meanwhile the scene is changed, the fire +and water taken from the_ MAGIC FLUTE _begin to play, above appears +the open temple of the sun, the sky is clear and Jupiter sits within +it, beneath Hell with Terkaleon, cobalds and witches on the stage, +many lights, etc. The audience applauds excessively, everything is +astir_.] + +WIESENER. + +Now the cat has only to go through fire and water and then the play is +finished. + +[_Enter the_ KING, _the_ PRINCESS, GOTTLIEB, HINZE _and servants_.] + +HINZE. + +This is the palace of the Count of Carabas. Why, the dickens, how this +has changed! + +KING. + +A beautiful palace! + +HINZE. + +As long as matters _have_ gone thus far (_taking Gottlieb by +the hand_) you must first walk through the fire here and then through +the water there. + +GOTTLIEB (_walks through fire and water to the sound of flute and +drum_.) + +HINZE. + +You have stood the test; now, my prince, you are altogether worthy of +the government. + +GOTTLIEB. + +Governing, Hinze, is a curious matter. + +KING. + +Accept, now, the hand of my daughter. + +PRINCESS. + +How happy I am! + +GOTTLIEB. + +I, likewise. But, my king, I would desire to reward my servant. + +KING. + +By all means; I herewith raise him to the nobility. (_He hangs an +order about the cat's neck_.) What is his actual name? + +GOTTLIEB. + +Hinze. By birth he is of but a lowly family--but his merits exalt him. + +LEANDER (_quickly stepping forward_). + + After the King I rode with due submission, + And now implore his Majesty's permission + To close with laudatory lines poetic + This play so very wondrous and prophetic. + In praise of cats my grateful anthem soars-- + The noblest of those creatures on all fours + Who daily bring contentment to our doors. + In Egypt cats were gods, and very nice is + The Tom-cat who was cousin to Great Isis. + They still protect our cellar, attic, kitchen, + And serve the man who this world's goods is rich in. + Our homes had household gods of yore to grace them. + If cats be gods, then with the Lares place them! + + [_Drumming. The curtain falls_.] + + + + + +FAIR ECKBERT (1796) + +BY LUDWIG TIECK + +TRANSLATED BY PAUL B. THOMAS + + +In a region of the Hartz Mountains there lived a knight whom people +generally called simply Fair Eckbert. He was about forty years old, +scarcely of medium height, and short, very fair hair fell thick and +straight over his pale, sunken face. He lived very quietly unto +himself, and was never implicated in the feuds of his neighbors; +people saw him but rarely outside the encircling wall of his little +castle. His wife loved solitude quite as much as he, and both seemed +to love each other from the heart; only they were wont to complain +because Heaven seemed unwilling to bless their marriage with children. + +Very seldom was Eckbert visited by guests, and even when he was, +almost no change on their account was made in the ordinary routine of +his life. Frugality dwelt there, and Economy herself seemed to +regulate everything. Eckbert was then cheerful and gay--only when he +was alone one noticed in him a certain reserve, a quiet distant +melancholy. + +Nobody came so often to the castle as did Philip Walther, a man to +whom Eckbert had become greatly attached, because he found in him very +much his own way of thinking. His home was really in Franconia, but he +often spent more than half a year at a time in the vicinity of +Eckbert's castle, where he busied himself gathering herbs and stones +and arranging them in order. He had a small income, and was therefore +dependent upon no one. Eckbert often accompanied him on his lonely +rambles, and thus a closer friendship developed between the two men +with each succeeding year. + +There are hours in which it worries a man to keep from a friend a +secret, which hitherto he has often taken great pains to conceal. The +soul then feels an irresistible impulse to impart itself completely, +and reveal its innermost self to the friend, in order to make him so +much the more a friend. At these moments delicate souls disclose +themselves to each other, and it doubtless sometimes happens that the +one shrinks back in fright from its acquaintance with the other. + +One foggy evening in early autumn Eckbert was sitting with his friend +and his wife, Bertha, around the hearth-fire. The flames threw a +bright glow out into the room and played on the ceiling above. The +night looked in darkly through the windows, and the trees outside were +shivering in the damp cold. Walther was lamenting that he had so far +to go to get back home, and Eckbert proposed that he remain there and +spend half the night in familiar talk, and then sleep until morning in +one of the rooms of the castle. Walther accepted the proposal, +whereupon wine and supper were brought in, the fire was replenished +with wood, and the conversation of the two friends became more cheery +and confidential. + +After the dishes had been cleared off, and the servants had gone out, +Eckbert took Walther's hand and said: + +"Friend, you ought once to let my wife tell you the story of her +youth, which is indeed strange enough." + +"Gladly," replied Walther, and they all sat down again around the +hearth. It was now exactly midnight, and the moon shone intermittently +through the passing clouds. + +"You must forgive me," began Bertha, "but my husband says your +thoughts are so noble that it is not right to conceal anything from +you. Only you must not regard my story as a fairy-tale, no matter how +strange it may sound. + +"I was born in a village, my father was a poor shepherd. The household +economy of my parents was on a humble plane--often they did not know +where they were going to get their bread. But what grieved me far more +than that was the fact that my father and mother often quarreled over +their poverty, and cast bitter reproaches at each other. Furthermore I +was constantly hearing about myself, that I was a simple, stupid +child, who could not perform even the most trifling task. And I was +indeed extremely awkward and clumsy; I let everything drop from my +hands, I learned neither to sew nor to spin, I could do nothing to +help about the house. The misery of my parents, however, I understood +extremely well. I often used to sit in the corner and fill my head +with notions--how I would help them if I should suddenly become rich, +how I would shower them with gold and silver and take delight in their +astonishment. Then I would see spirits come floating up, who would +reveal subterranean treasures to me or give me pebbles which afterward +turned into gems. In short, the most wonderful fantasies would occupy +my mind, and when I had to get up to help or carry something, I would +show myself far more awkward than ever, for the reason that my head +would be giddy with all these strange notions. + +"My father was always very cross with me, because I was such an +absolutely useless burden on the household; so he often treated me +with great cruelty, and I seldom heard him say a kind word to me. Thus +it went along until I was about eight years old, when serious steps +were taken to get me to do and to learn something. My father believed +that it was sheer obstinacy and indolence on my part, so that I might +spend my days in idleness. Enough--he threatened me unspeakably, and +when this turned out to be of no avail, he chastised me most +barbarously, adding that this punishment was to be repeated every day +because I was an absolutely useless creature. + +"All night long I cried bitterly--I felt so entirely forsaken, and I +pitied myself so that I wanted to die. I dreaded the break of day, and +did not know what to do. I longed for any possible kind of ability, +and could not understand at all why I was more stupid than the other +children of my acquaintance. I was on the verge of despair. + +"When the day dawned, I got up, and, scarcely realizing what I was +doing, opened the door of our little cabin. I found myself in the open +field, soon afterward in a forest, into which the daylight had hardly +yet shone. I ran on without looking back; I did not get tired, for I +thought all the time that my father would surely overtake me and treat +me even more cruelly on account of my running away. + +"When I emerged from the forest again the sun was already fairly high, +and I saw, lying ahead of me, something dark, over which a thick mist +was resting. One moment I was obliged to scramble over hills, the next +to follow a winding path between rocks. I now guessed that I must be +in the neighboring mountains, and I began to feel afraid of the +solitude. For, living in the plain, I had never seen any mountains, +and the mere word mountains, whenever I heard them talked about, had +an exceedingly terrible sound to my childish ear. I hadn't the heart +to turn back--it was indeed precisely my fear which drove me onwards. +I often looked around me in terror when the wind rustled through the +leaves above me, or when a distant sound of chopping rang out through +the quiet morning. Finally, when I began to meet colliers and miners +and heard a strange pronunciation, I nearly fainted with fright. + +"You must forgive my prolixity. As often as I tell this story I +involuntarily become garrulous, and Eckbert, the only person to whom I +have told it, has spoiled me by his attention. + +"I passed through several villages and begged, for I now felt hungry +and thirsty. I helped myself along very well with the answers I gave +to questions asked me. I had wandered along in this way for about four +days, when I came to a small foot-path which led me farther from the +highway. The rocks around me now assumed a different, far stranger +shape. They were cliffs, and were piled up on one another in such a +way that they looked as if the first gust of wind would hurl them all +together into a heap. I did not know whether to go on or not. I had +always slept over night either in out-of-the-way shepherds' huts, or +else in the open woods, for it was just then the most beautiful season +of the year. Here I came across no human habitations whatever, nor +could I expect to meet with any in this wilderness. The rocks became +more and more terrible--I often had to pass close by dizzy precipices, +and finally even the path under my feet came to an end. I was +absolutely wretched; I wept and screamed, and my voice echoed horribly +in the rocky glens. And now night set in; I sought out a mossy spot to +lie down on, but I could not sleep. All night long I heard the most +peculiar noises; first I thought it was wild beasts, then the wind +moaning through the rocks, then again strange birds. I prayed, and not +until toward morning did I fall asleep. + +"I woke up when the daylight shone in my face. In front of me there +was a rock. I climbed up on it, hoping to find a way out of the +wilderness, and perhaps to see some houses or people. But when I +reached the top, everything, as far as my eye could see, was like +night about me--all overcast with a gloomy mist. The day was dark and +dismal, and not a tree, not a meadow, not even a thicket could my eye +discern, with the exception of a few bushes which, in solitary +sadness, had shot up through the crevices in the rocks. It is +impossible to describe the longing I felt merely to see a human being, +even had it been the most strange-looking person before whom I should +inevitably have taken fright. At the same time I was ravenously +hungry. I sat down and resolved to die. But after a while the desire +to live came off victorious; I got up quickly and walked on all day +long, occasionally crying out. At last I was scarcely conscious of +what I was doing; I was tired and exhausted, had hardly any desire to +live, and yet was afraid to die. + +"Toward evening the region around me began to assume a somewhat more +friendly aspect. My thoughts and wishes took new life, and the desire +to live awakened in all my veins. I now thought I heard the swishing +of a mill in the distance; I redoubled my steps, and how relieved, how +joyous I felt when at last I actually reached the end of the dreary +rocks! Woods and meadows and, far ahead, pleasant mountains lay before +me again. I felt as if I had stepped out of hell into paradise; the +solitude and my helplessness did not seem to me at all terrible now. + +"Instead of the hoped-for mill, I came upon a water-fall, which, to be +sure, considerably diminished my joy. I dished up some water from the +river with my hand and drank. Suddenly I thought I heard a low cough a +short distance away. Never have I experienced so pleasant a surprise +as at that moment; I went nearer and saw, on the edge of the forest, +an old woman, apparently resting. She was dressed almost entirely in +black; a black hood covered her head and a large part of her face. In +her hand she held a walking-stick. + +"I approached her and asked for help; she had me sit down beside her +and gave me bread and some wine. While I was eating she sang a hymn in +a shrill voice, and when she had finished she said that I might follow +her. + +"I was delighted with this proposal, strange as the voice and the +personality of the old woman seemed to me. She walked rather fast with +her cane, and at every step she distorted her face, which at first +made me laugh. The wild rocks steadily receded behind us--we crossed a +pleasant meadow, and then passed through a fairly long forest. When we +emerged from this, the sun was just setting, and I shall never forget +the view and the feelings of that evening. Everything was fused in the +most delicate red and gold; the tree-tops stood forth in the red glow +of evening, the charming light was spread out over the fields, the +forest and the leaves of the trees were motionless, the clear sky +looked like an open paradise, and the evening bells of the villages +rang out with a strange mournfulness across the lea. My young soul now +got its first presentment of the world and its events. I forgot myself +and my guide; my spirit and my eyes were wandering among golden +clouds. + +"We now climbed a hill, which was planted with birchtrees, and from +its summit looked down into a little valley, likewise full of birches. +In the midst of the trees stood a little hut. A lively barking came to +our ears, and presently a spry little dog was dancing around the old +woman and wagging his tail. Presently he came to me, examined me from +all sides, and then returned with friendly actions to the old woman. + +"When we were descending the hill I heard some wonderful singing, +which seemed to come from the hut. It sounded like a bird, and ran + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + Where none intrude, + Thou bringest good + For every mood, + O solitude! + +"These few words were repeated over and over; if I were to attempt to +describe the effect, it was somewhat like the blended notes of a bugle +and a shawm. + +"My curiosity was strained to the utmost. Without waiting for the old +woman's invitation, I walked into the hut with her. Dusk had already +set in. Everything was in proper order; a few goblets stood in a +cupboard, some strange-looking vessels lay on a table, and a bird was +hanging in a small, shiny cage by the window. And he, indeed, it was +that I had heard singing. The old woman gasped and coughed, seemingly +as if she would never get over it. Now she stroked the little dog, now +talked to the bird, which answered her only with its usual words. +Furthermore, she acted in no way as if I were present. While I was +thus watching her, a series of shudders passed through my body; for +her face was constantly twitching and her head shaking, as if with +age, and in such a way that it was impossible for one to tell how she +really looked. + +"When she finally ceased coughing she lighted a candle, set a very +small table, and laid the supper on it. Then she looked around at me +and told me to take one of the woven cane chairs. I sat down directly +opposite her, and the candle stood between us. She folded her bony +hands and prayed aloud, all the time twitching her face in such a way +that it almost made me laugh. I was very careful, however, not to do +anything to make her angry. + +"After supper she prayed again, and then showed me to a bed in a tiny +little side-room--she herself slept in the main room. I did not stay +awake long, for I was half dazed. I woke up several times during the +night, however, and heard the old woman coughing and talking to the +dog, and occasionally I heard the bird, which seemed to be dreaming +and sang only a few isolated words of its song. These stray notes, +united with the rustling of the birches directly in front of my +window, and also with the song of the far-off nightingale, made such a +strange combination that I felt all the time, not as if I were awake, +but as if I were lapsing into another, still stranger, dream. + +"In the morning the old woman woke me up and soon afterward gave me +some work to do; I had, namely, to spin, and I soon learned how to do +it; in addition I had to take care of the dog and the bird. I was not +long in getting acquainted with the housekeeping, and came to know all +the objects around. I now began to feel that everything was as it +should be; I no longer thought that there was anything strange about +the old woman, or romantic about the location of her home, or that the +bird was in any way extraordinary. To be sure, I was all the time +struck by his beauty; for his feathers displayed every possible color, +varying from a most beautiful light blue to a glowing red, and when he +sang he puffed himself out proudly, so that his feathers shone even +more gorgeously. + +"The old woman often went out and did not return until evening. Then I +would go with the dog to meet her and she would call me child and +daughter. Finally I came to like her heartily; for our minds, +especially in childhood, quickly accustom themselves to everything. In +the evening hours she taught me to read; I soon learned the art, and +afterward it was a source of endless pleasure to me in my solitude, +for she had a few old, hand-written books which contained wonderful +stories. + +"The memory of the life I led at that time still gives me a strange +feeling even now. I was never visited by any human being, and felt at +home only in that little family circle; for the dog and the bird made +the same impression on me which ordinarily only old and intimate +friends create. Often as I used it at that time, I have never been +able to recall the dog's strange name. + +"In this way I had lived with the old woman for four years, and I must +have been at any rate about twelve years old when she finally began to +grow more confidential and revealed a secret to me. It was this: every +day the bird laid one egg, and in this egg there was always a pearl or +a gem. I had already noticed that she often did something in the cage +secretly, but had never particularly concerned myself about it. She +now charged me with the task of taking out these eggs during her +absence, and of carefully preserving them in the vessels. She would +leave food for me and stay away quite a long time--weeks and months. +My little spinning-wheel hummed, the dog barked, the wonderful bird +sang, and meanwhile everything was so quiet in the region round about +that I cannot recall a single high wind or a thunder-storm during the +entire time. Not a human being strayed thither, not a wild animal came +near our habitation. I was happy, and sang and worked away from one +day to the next. Man would perhaps be right happy if he could thus +spend his entire life, unseen by others. + +"From the little reading that I did I formed quite wonderful +impressions of the world and of mankind. They were all drawn from +myself and the company I lived in; thus, if whimsical people were +spoken of I could not imagine them other than the little dog, +beautiful women always looked like the bird, and all old women were as +my wonderful old friend. I had also read a little about love, and in +my imagination I figured in strange tales. I formed a mental picture +of the most beautiful knight in the world and adorned him with all +sorts of excellences, without really knowing, after all my trouble, +what he looked like. But I could feel genuine pity for myself if he +did not return my love, and then I would make long, emotional speeches +to him, sometimes aloud, in order to win him. You smile--we are all +now past this period of youth. + +"I now liked it rather better when I was alone, for I was then myself +mistress of the house. The dog was very fond of me and did everything +I wanted him to do, the bird answered all my questions with his song, +my wheel was always spinning merrily, and so in the bottom of my heart +I never felt any desire for a change. When the old woman returned from +her wanderings she would praise my diligence, and say that her +household was conducted in a much more orderly manner since I belonged +to it. She was delighted with my development and my healthy look. In +short, she treated me in every way as if I were a daughter. + +"'You are a good child,' she once said to me in a squeaky voice. 'If +you continue thus, it will always go well with you. It never pays to +swerve from the right course--the penalty is sure to follow, though it +may be a long time coming.' While she was saying this I did not give a +great deal of heed to it, for I was very lively in all my movements. +But in the night it occurred to me again, and I could not understand +what she had meant by it. I thought her words over carefully--I had +read about riches, and it finally dawned on me that her pearls and +gems might perhaps be something valuable. This idea presently became +still clearer to me--but what could she have meant by the right +course? I was still unable to understand fully the meaning of her +words. + +"I was now fourteen years old. It is indeed a misfortune that human +beings acquire reason, only to lose, in so doing, the innocence of +their souls. In other words I now began to realize the fact that it +depended only upon me to take the bird and the gems in the old +woman's absence, and go out into the world of which I had read. At the +same time it was perhaps possible that I might meet my wonderfully +beautiful knight, who still held a place in my imagination. + +"At first this thought went no further than any other, but when I +would sit there spinning so constantly, it always came back against my +will and I became so deeply absorbed in it that I already saw myself +dressed up and surrounded by knights and princes. And whenever I would +thus lose myself, I easily grew very sad when I glanced up and found +myself in my little, narrow home. When I was about my business, the +old woman paid no further attention to me. + +"One day my hostess went away again and told me that she would be gone +longer this time than usual--I should pay strict attention to +everything, and not let the time drag on my hands. I took leave of her +with a certain uneasiness, for I somehow felt that I should never see +her again. I looked after her for a long time, and did not myself know +why I was so uneasy; it seemed almost as if my intention were already +standing before me, without my being distinctly conscious of it. + +"I had never taken such diligent care of the dog and the bird +before--they lay closer to my heart than ever now. The old woman had +been away several days when I arose with the firm purpose of +abandoning the hut with the bird and going out into the so-called +world. My mind was narrow and limited; I wanted again to remain there, +and yet the thought was repugnant to me. A strange conflict took place +in my soul--it was as if two contentious spirits were struggling +within me. One moment the quiet solitude would seem so beautiful to +me, and then again I would be charmed by the vision of a new world +with its manifold wonders. + +"I did not know what to do with myself. The dog was continually +dancing around me with friendly advances, the sunlight was spread out +cheerfully over the fields, and the green birch-trees shone brightly. +I had a feeling as if I had something to do requiring haste. +Accordingly, I caught the little dog, tied him fast in the room, and +took the cage, with the bird in it, under my arm. The dog cringed and +whined over this unusual treatment; he looked at me with imploring +eyes but I was afraid to take him with me. I also took one of the +vessels, which was filled with gems, and concealed it about me. The +others I left there. The bird twisted its head around in a singular +manner when I walked out of the door with him; the dog strained hard +to follow me, but was obliged to remain behind. + +"I avoided the road leading toward the wild rocks, and walked in the +opposite direction. The dog continued to bark and whine, and I was +deeply touched by it. Several times the bird started to sing, but, as +he was being carried, it was necessarily rather difficult for him. As +I walked along the barking grew fainter and fainter, and, finally, +ceased altogether. I cried and was on the point of turning back, but +the longing to see something new drove me on. + +"I had already traversed mountains and several forests when evening +came, and I was obliged to pass the night in a village. I was very +timid when I entered the public-house; they showed me to a room and a +bed, and I slept fairly well, except that I dreamt of the old woman, +who was threatening me. + +"My journey was rather monotonous; but the further I went the more the +picture of the old woman and the little dog worried me. I thought how +he would probably starve to death without my help, and in the forest I +often thought I would suddenly meet the old woman. Thus, crying and +sighing, I wandered along, and as often as I rested and put the cage +on the ground, the bird sang its wonderful song, and reminded me +vividly of the beautiful home I had deserted. As human nature is prone +to forget, I now thought that the journey I had made as a child was +not as dismal as the one I was now making, and I wished that I were +back in the same situation. + +"I had sold a few gems, and now, after wandering many days, I arrived +in a village. Even as I was entering it, a strange feeling came over +me--I was frightened and did not know why. But I soon discovered +why--it was the very same village in which I was born. How astonished +I was! How the tears of joy ran down my cheeks as a thousand strange +memories came back to me! There were a great many changes; new houses +had been built, others, which had then only recently been erected, +were now in a state of dilapidation. I came across places where there +had been a fire. Everything was a great deal smaller and more crowded +than I had expected. I took infinite delight in the thought of seeing +my parents again after so many years. I found the little house and the +well-known threshold--the handle on the door was just as it used to +be. I felt as if I had only yesterday left it ajar. My heart throbbed +vehemently. I quickly opened the door--but faces entirely strange to +me stared at me from around the room. I inquired after the shepherd, +Martin, and was told that both he and his wife had died three years +before. I hurried out and, crying aloud, left the village. + +"I had looked forward with such pleasure to surprising them with my +riches, and as a result of a remarkable accident the dream of my +childhood had really come true. And now it was all in vain--they could +no longer rejoice with me--the fondest hope of my life was lost to me +forever. + +"I rented a small house with a garden in a pleasant city, and engaged +a waiting-maid. The world did not appear to be such a wonderful place +as I had expected, but the old woman and my former home dropped more +and more out of my memory, so that, upon the whole, I lived quite +contentedly. + +"The bird had not sung for a long time, so that I was not a little +frightened one night when he suddenly began again. The song he sang, +however, was different--it was: + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + A vanished good + In dreams pursued, + In absence rued, + O solitude! + +"I could not sleep through the night; everything came back to my mind, +and I felt more than ever that I had done wrong. When I got up the +sight of the bird was positively repugnant to me; he was constantly +staring at me, and his presence worried me. He never ceased singing +now, and sang more loudly and shrilly than he used to. The more I +looked at him the more uneasiness I felt. Finally, I opened the cage, +stuck my hand in, seized him by the neck and squeezed my fingers +together forcibly. He looked at me imploringly, and I relaxed my +grip--but he was already dead. I buried him in the garden. + +"And now I was often seized with fear of my waiting-maid. My own past +came back to me, and I thought that she too might rob me some day, or +perhaps even murder me. For a long time I had known a young knight +whom I liked very much--I gave him my hand, and with that, Mr. +Walther, my story ends." + +"You should have seen her then," broke in Eckbert quickly. "Her youth, +her innocence, her beauty--and what an incomprehensible charm her +solitary breeding had given her! To me she seemed like a wonder, and I +loved her inexpressibly. I had no property, but with the help of her +love I attained my present condition of comfortable prosperity. We +moved to this place, and our union thus far has never brought us a +single moment of remorse." + +"But while I have been chattering," began Bertha again, "the night has +grown late. Let us go to bed." + +She rose to go to her room. Walther kissed her hand and wished her a +good-night, adding: + +"Noble woman, I thank you. I can readily imagine you with the strange +bird, and how you fed the little Strohmi." + +Without answering she left the room. Walther also lay down to sleep, +but Eckbert continued to walk up and down the room. + +"Aren't human beings fools?" he finally asked himself. "I myself +induced my wife to tell her story, and now I regret this confidence! +Will he not perhaps misuse it? Will he not impart it to others? Will +he not perhaps--for it is human nature--come to feel a miserable +longing for our gems and devise plans to get them and dissemble his +nature?" + +It occurred to him that Walther had not taken leave of him as +cordially as would perhaps have been natural after so confidential a +talk. When the soul is once led to suspect, it finds confirmations of +its suspicions in every little thing. Then again Eckbert reproached +himself for his ignoble distrust of his loyal friend, but he was +unable to get the notion entirely out of his mind. All night long he +tossed about with these thoughts and slept but little. + +Bertha was sick and could not appear for breakfast. Walther seemed +little concerned about it, and furthermore he left the knight in a +rather indifferent manner. Eckbert could not understand his conduct. +He went in to see his wife--she lay in a severe fever and said that +her story the night before must have excited her in this manner. + +After that evening Walther visited his friend's castle but rarely, and +even when he did come he went away again after a few trivial words. +Eckbert was exceedingly troubled by this behavior; to be sure, he +tried not to let either Bertha or Walther notice it, but both of them +must surely have been aware of his inward uneasiness. + +Bertha's sickness grew worse and worse. The doctor shook his head--the +color in her cheeks had disappeared, and her eyes became more and more +brilliant. + +One morning she summoned her husband to her bedside and told the maids +to withdraw. + +"Dear husband," she began, "I must disclose to you something which has +almost deprived me of my reason and has ruined my health, however +trivial it may seem to be. Often as I have told my story to you, you +will remember that I have never been able, despite all the efforts I +have made, to recall the name of the little dog with which I lived so +long. That evening when I told the story to Walther he suddenly said +to me when we separated: 'I can readily imagine how you fed the little +Strohmi.' Was that an accident? Did he guess the name, or did he +mention it designedly? And what, then, is this man's connection with +my lot? The idea has occurred to me now and then that I merely imagine +this accident--but it is certain, only too certain. It sent a feeling +of horror through me to have a strange person like that assist my +memory. What do you say, Eckbert?" + +Eckbert looked at his suffering wife with deep tenderness. He kept +silent, but was meditating. Then he said a few comforting words to her +and left the room. In an isolated room he walked back and forth with +indescribable restlessness--Walther for many years had been his sole +male comrade, and yet this man was now the only person in the world +whose existence oppressed and harassed him. It seemed to him that his +heart would be light and happy if only this one person might be put +out of the way. He took down his cross-bow with a view to distracting +his thoughts by going hunting. + +It was a raw and stormy day in the winter; deep snow lay on the +mountains and bent down the branches of the trees. He wandered about, +with the sweat oozing from his forehead. He came across no game, and +that increased his ill-humor. Suddenly he saw something move in the +distance--it was Walther gathering moss from the trees. Without +knowing what he was doing he took aim--Walther looked around and +motioned to him with a threatening gesture. But as he did so the arrow +sped, and Walther fell headlong. + +Eckbert felt relieved and calm, and yet a feeling of horror drove him +back to his castle. He had a long distance to go, for he had wandered +far into the forest. When he arrived home, Bertha had already +died--before her death she had spoken a great deal about Walther and +the old woman. + +For a long time Eckbert lived in greatest seclusion. He had always +been somewhat melancholy because the strange story of his wife rather +worried him; he had always lived in fear of an unfortunate event that +might take place, but now he was completely at variance with himself. +The murder of his friend stood constantly before his eyes--he spent +his life reproaching himself. + +In order to divert his thoughts, he occasionally betook himself to the +nearest large city, where he attended parties and banquets. He wished +to have a friend to fill the vacancy in his soul, and then again, when +he thought of Walther, the very word friend made him shudder. He was +convinced that he would necessarily be unhappy with all his friends. +He had lived so long in beautiful harmony with Bertha, and Walther's +friendship had made him happy for so many years, and now both of them +had been so suddenly taken from him that his life seemed at times more +like a strange fairy-tale than an actual mortal existence. + +A knight, Hugo von Wolfsberg, became attached to the quiet, melancholy +Eckbert, and seemed to cherish a genuine fondness for him. Eckbert was +strangely surprised; he met the knight's friendly advances more +quickly than the other expected. They were now frequently together, +the stranger did Eckbert all sorts of favors, scarcely ever did either +of them ride out without the other, they met each other at all the +parties--in short, they seemed to be inseparable. + +Eckbert was, nevertheless, happy only for short moments at a time, for +he felt quite sure that Hugo loved him only by mistake--he did not +know him, nor his history, and he felt the same impulse again to +unfold his soul to him in order to ascertain for sure how staunch a +friend Hugo was. Then again doubts and the fear of being detested +restrained him. There were many hours in which he felt so convinced +of his own unworthiness as to believe that no person, who knew him at +all intimately, could hold him worthy of esteem. But he could not +resist the impulse; in the course of a long walk he revealed his +entire history to his friend, and asked him if he could possibly love +a murderer. Hugo was touched and tried to comfort him. Eckbert +followed him back to the city with a lighter heart. + +However, it seemed to be his damnation that his suspicions should +awaken just at the time when he grew confidential; for they had no +more than entered the hall when the glow of the many lights revealed +an expression in his friend's features which he did not like. He +thought he detected a malicious smile, and it seemed to him that he, +Hugo, said very little to him, that he talked a great deal with the +other people present, and seemed to pay absolutely no attention to +him. There was an old knight in the company who had always shown +himself as Eckbert's rival, and had often inquired in a peculiar way +about his riches and his wife. Hugo now approached this man, and they +talked together a long time secretly, while every now and then they +glanced toward Eckbert. He, Eckbert, saw in this a confirmation of his +suspicions; he believed that he had been betrayed, and a terrible rage +overcame him. As he continued to stare in that direction, he suddenly +saw Walther's head, all his features, and his entire figure, so +familiar to him. Still looking, he became convinced that it was nobody +but Walther himself who was talking with the old man. His terror was +indescribable; completely beside himself, he rushed out, left the city +that night, and, after losing his way many times, returned to his +castle. + +Like a restless spirit he hurried from room to room. No thought could +he hold fast; the pictures in his mind grew more and more terrible, +and he did not sleep a wink. The idea often occurred to him that he +was crazy and that all these notions were merely the product of his +own imagination. Then again he remembered Walther's features, and it +was all more puzzling to him than ever. He resolved to go on a journey +in order to compose his thoughts; he had long since given up the idea +of a friend and the wish for a companion. + +Without any definite destination in view, he set out, nor did he pay +much attention to the country that lay before him. After he had +trotted along several days on his horse, he suddenly lost his way in a +maze of rocks, from which he was unable to discover any egress. +Finally he met an old peasant who showed him a way out, leading past a +water-fall. He started to give him a few coins by way of thanks, but +the peasant refused them. + +"What can it mean?" he said to himself. "I could easily imagine that +that man was no other than Walther." He looked back once more--it was +indeed no one else but Walther! + +Eckbert spurred on his horse as fast as it could run--through meadows +and forests, until, completely exhausted, it collapsed beneath him. +Unconcerned, he continued his journey on foot. + +Dreamily he ascended a hill. There he seemed to hear a dog barking +cheerily close by--birch trees rustled about him--he heard the notes +of a wonderful song: + + O solitude + Of lonely wood, + Thou chiefest good, + Where thou dost brood + Is joy renewed, + O solitude! + +Now it was all up with Eckbert's consciousness and his senses; he +could not solve the mystery whether he was now dreaming or had +formerly dreamt of a woman Bertha. The most marvelous was confused +with the most ordinary--the world around him was bewitched--no +thought, no memory was under his control. + +An old crook-backed woman with a cane came creeping up the hill, +coughing. + +"Are you bringing my bird, my pearls, my dog?" she cried out to him. +"Look--wrong punishes itself. I and no other was your friend Walther, +your Hugo." + +"God in Heaven!" said Eckbert softly to himself. "In what terrible +solitude I have spent my life." + +"And Bertha was your sister." + +Eckbert fell to the ground. + +"Why did she desert me so deceitfully? Otherwise everything would have +ended beautifully--her probation-time was already over. She was the +daughter of a knight, who had a shepherd bring her up--the daughter of +your father." + +"Why have I always had a presentiment of these facts?" cried Eckbert. + +"Because in your early youth you heard your father tell of them. On +his wife's account he could not bring up this daughter himself, for +she was the child of another woman." + +Eckbert was delirious as he breathed his last; dazed and confused he +heard the old woman talking, the dog barking, and the bird repeating +its song. + + + + +THE ELVES[37] (1811) + +By LUDWIG TIECK + +TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC H. HEDGE + + +"Where is our little Mary?" asked the father. + +"She is playing out upon the green there, with our neighbor's boy," +replied the mother. + +"I wish they may not run away and lose themselves," said he; "they are +so heedless." + +The mother looked for the little ones, and brought them their evening +luncheon. "It is warm," said the boy; and Mary eagerly reached out for +the red cherries. + +"Have a care, children," said the mother, "and do not run too far from +home, or into the wood; father and I are going to the fields." + +Little Andrew answered: "Never fear, the wood frightens us; we shall +sit here by the house, where there are people near us." + +The mother went in, and soon came out again with her husband. They +locked the door, and turned toward the fields to look after their +laborers and see their hay-harvest in the meadow. Their house lay upon +a little green height, encircled by a pretty ring of paling, which +likewise inclosed their fruit and flower-garden. The hamlet stretched +somewhat deeper down, and on the other side lay the castle of the +Count. Martin rented the large farm from this nobleman, and was living +in contentment with his wife and only child; for he yearly saved some +money, and had the prospect of becoming a man of substance by his +industry, for the ground was productive, and the Count not illiberal. + +As he walked with his wife to the fields, he gazed cheerfully round, +and said: "What a different look this quarter has, Brigitta, from the +place we lived in formerly! Here it is all so green; the whole village +is bedecked with thick-spreading fruit-trees; the ground is full of +beautiful herbs and flowers; all the houses are cheerful and cleanly, +the inhabitants are at their ease: nay, I could almost fancy that the +woods are greener here than elsewhere, and the sky bluer; and, so far +as the eye can reach, you have pleasure and delight in beholding the +bountiful Earth." + +"And whenever you cross the stream," said Brigitta, "you are, as it +were, in another world, all is so dreary and withered; but every +traveler declares that our village is the fairest in the country, far +or near." + +"All but that fir-ground," said her husband; "do but look back to it, +how dark and dismal that solitary spot is lying in the gay scene--the +dingy fir-trees, with the smoky huts behind them, the ruined stalls, +the brook flowing past with a sluggish melancholy." + +"It is true," replied Brigitta; "if you but approach that spot, you +grow disconsolate and sad, you know not why. What sort of people can +they be that live there, and keep themselves so separate from the rest +of us, as if they had an evil conscience?" + +"A miserable crew," replied the young farmer; "gipsies, seemingly, +that steal and cheat in other quarters, and have their hoard and +hiding-place here. I wonder only that his lordship suffers them." + +"Who knows," said the wife, with an accent of pity, "but perhaps they +may be poor people, wishing, out of shame, to conceal their poverty; +for, after all, no one can say aught ill of them; the only thing is, +that they do not go to church, and none knows how they live; for the +little garden, which indeed seems altogether waste, cannot possibly +support them; and fields they have none." + +"God knows," said Martin, as they went along, "what trade they follow; +no mortal comes to them; for the place they live in is as if +bewitched and excommunicated, so that even our wildest fellows will +not venture into it." + +Such conversation they pursued while walking to the fields. That +gloomy spot they spoke of lay apart from the hamlet. In a dell, begirt +with firs, you might behold a hut and various dilapidated farm-houses; +rarely was smoke seen to mount from it, still more rarely did men +appear there; though at times curious people, venturing somewhat +nearer, had perceived upon the bench before the hut some hideous +women, in ragged clothes, dandling in their arms some children equally +dirty and ill-favored; black dogs were running up and down upon the +boundary; and, at eventide, a man of monstrous size was seen to cross +the foot-bridge of the brook, and disappear in the hut; then, in the +darkness, various shapes were observed, moving like shadows round an +open fire. This piece of ground, the firs, and the ruined hut, formed +in truth a strange contrast with the bright green landscape, the white +houses of the hamlet, and the stately new-built castle. + +The two little ones had now eaten their fruit; it came into their +heads to run races; and the little nimble Mary always got the start of +the less active Andrew. "It is not fair," cried Andrew at last; "let +us try it for some length, then we shall see who wins." + +"As thou wilt," said Mary; "only to the brook we must not run." + +"No," said Andrew; "but there, on the hill, stands the large +pear-tree, a quarter of a mile from this. I shall run by the left, +round past the fir-ground; thou canst try it by the right, over the +fields; so we do not meet till we get up, and then we shall see which +of us is the swifter." + +"Done," cried Mary, and began to run; "for we shall not interfere with +each other by the way, and my father says it is as far to the hill by +that side of the gipsies' house as by this." + +Andrew had already started, and Mary, turning to the right, could no +longer see him. "It is very silly," said she to herself; "I have only +to take heart, and run along the bridge, past the hut, and through the +yard, and I shall certainly be first." She was already standing by the +brook and the clump of firs. "Shall I? No; it is too frightful," said +she. A little white dog was standing on the farther side, and barking +with might and main. In her terror, Mary thought the dog some monster, +and sprang back. "Fie! fie!" said she, "the dolt is gone half way by +this time, while I stand here considering." The little dog kept +barking, and, as she looked at it more narrowly, it seemed no longer +frightful, but, on the contrary, quite pretty; it had a red collar +round its neck, with a glittering bell; and as it raised its head, and +shook itself in barking, the little bell sounded with the finest +tinkle. "Well, I must risk it!" cried she: "I will run for life; +quick, quick, I am through; certainly to Heaven, they cannot eat me up +alive in half a minute!" And with this, the gay, courageous little +Mary sprang along the foot-bridge; passed the dog, which ceased its +barking, and began to fawn on her; and in a moment she was standing on +the other bank, and the black firs all round concealed from view her +father's house and the rest of the landscape. + +But what was her astonishment when here! The loveliest, most +variegated flower-garden lay round her; tulips, roses, and lilies, +were glittering in the fairest colors; blue and gold-red butterflies +were wavering in the blossoms; cages of shining wire were hung on the +espaliers, with many-colored birds in them, singing beautiful songs; +and children in short white frocks, with flowing yellow hair and +brilliant eyes, were frolicking about; some playing with lambkins, +some feeding the birds, or gathering flowers and giving them to one +another; some, again, were eating cherries, grapes, and ruddy +apricots. No but was to be seen; but instead of it, a large fair +house, with a brazen door and lofty statues, stood glancing in the +middle of the space. Mary was confounded with surprise, and knew not +what to think; but, not being bashful, she went right up to the first +of the children, held out her hand, and wished the little creature +good evening. + +"Art thou come to visit us, then?" asked the glittering child; "I saw +thee running, playing on the other side, but thou wert frightened for +our little dog." + +"So you are not gipsies and rogues," exclaimed Mary, "as Andrew always +told me! He is a stupid thing, and talks of much he does not +understand." + +"Stay with us," said the strange little girl; "thou wilt like it +well." + +"But we are running a race." + +"Thou wilt find thy comrade soon enough. There, take and eat." + +Mary ate, and found the fruit more sweet than any she had ever tasted +in her life before; and Andrew, and the race, and the prohibition of +her parents, were entirely forgotten. + +A stately woman, in a shining robe, came toward them, and asked about +the stranger child. "Fairest lady," said Mary, "I came running hither +by chance, and now they wish to keep me." + +"Thou art aware, Zerina," said the lady, "that she can be here for but +a little while; besides, thou shouldst have asked my leave." + +"I thought," said Zerina, "when I saw her admitted across the bridge, +that I might do it; we have often seen her running in the fields, and +thou thyself hast taken pleasure in her lively temper. She will have +to leave us soon enough." + +"No, I will stay here," said the little stranger; "for here it is so +beautiful, and here I shall find the prettiest playthings, and store +of berries and cherries to boot. On the other side it is not half so +grand." + +The gold-robed lady went away with a smile; and many of the children +now came bounding round the happy Mary in their mirth, and twitched +her, and incited her to dance; others brought her lambs, or curious +playthings; others made music on instruments, and sang to it. + +She kept, however, by the playmate who had first met her; for Zerina +was the kindest and loveliest of them all. Little Mary cried and cried +again: "I will stay with you forever; I will stay with you, and you +shall be my sisters;" at which the children all laughed, and embraced +her. "Now, we shall have a royal sport," said Zerina. She ran into the +palace, and returned with a little golden box, in which lay a quantity +of seeds, like glittering dust. She lifted a few with her little hand, +and scattered some grains on the green earth. Instantly the grass +began to move, as in waves; and, after a few moments, bright +rose-bushes started from the ground, shot rapidly up, and budded all +at once, while the sweetest perfume filled the place. Mary also took a +little of the dust, and, having scattered it, she saw white lilies, +and the most variegated pinks, pushing up. At a signal from Zerina, +the flowers disappeared, and others rose in their room. "Now," said +Zerina, "look for something greater." She laid two pine-seeds in the +ground, and stamped them in sharply with her foot. Two green bushes +stood before them. "Grasp me fast," said she; and Mary threw her arms +about the slender form. She felt herself borne upward; for the trees +were springing under them with the greatest speed; the tall pines +waved to and fro, and the two children held each other fast embraced, +swinging this way and that in the red clouds of the twilight, and +kissed each other, while the rest were climbing up and down the trunks +with quick dexterity, pushing and teasing one another with loud +laughter when they met; if any fell down in the press, they flew +through the air, and sank slowly and surely to the ground. At length +Mary was beginning to be frightened; and the other little child sang a +few loud tones, and the trees again sank down and set them on the +ground as gently as they had lifted them before to the clouds. + +They next went through the brazen door of the palace. Here many fair +women, elderly and young, were sitting in the round hall, partaking of +the fairest fruits and listening to glorious invisible music. In the +vaulting of the ceiling, palms, flowers, and groves stood painted, +among which little figures of children were sporting and winding in +every graceful posture; and with the tones of the music, the images +altered and glowed with the most burning colors; now the blue and +green were sparkling like radiant light, now these tints faded back in +paleness, the purple flamed up, and the gold took fire; and then the +naked children seemed to be alive among the flower-garlands, and to +draw breath and emit it through their ruby-colored lips; so that by +turns you could see the glance of their little white teeth, and the +lighting up of their azure eyes. + +From the hall, a stair of brass led down to a subterranean chamber. +Here lay much gold and silver, and precious stones of every hue shone +out between them. Strange vessels stood along the walls, and all +seemed filled with costly things. The gold was worked into many forms, +and glittered with the friendliest red. Many little dwarfs were busied +in sorting the pieces from the heap, and putting them in the vessels; +others, hunch-backed and bandy-legged, with long red noses, were +tottering slowly along, half-bent to the ground, under full sacks, +which they bore as millers do their grain, and, with much panting, +shaking out the gold-dust on the ground. Then they darted awkwardly to +the right and left, and caught the rolling balls that were likely to +run away; and it happened now and then that one in his eagerness upset +another, so that both fell heavily and clumsily to the ground. They +made angry faces, and looked askance, as Mary laughed at their +gestures and their ugliness. Behind them sat an old crumpled little +man, whom Zerina reverently greeted; he thanked her with a grave +inclination of his head. He held a sceptre in his hand, and wore a +crown upon his brow, and all the other dwarfs appeared to regard him +as their master and obey his nod. + +"What more wanted?" asked he, with a surly voice, as the children +came a little nearer. Mary was afraid, and did not speak; but her +companion answered, they were only come to look about them in the +chamber. "Still your old child-tricks!" replied the dwarf; "will there +never be an end to idleness?" With this, he turned again to his +employment, kept his people weighing and sorting the ingots; some he +sent away on errands, some he chid with angry tones. + +"Who is the gentleman?" asked Mary. + +"Our Metal-Prince," replied Zerina, as they walked along. + +They seemed once more to reach the open air, for they were standing by +a lake, yet no sun appeared, and they saw no sky above their heads. A +little boat received them, and Zerina steered it diligently forward. +It shot rapidly along. On gaining the middle of the lake, little Mary +saw that multitudes of pipes, channels, and brooks were spreading from +the little sea in every direction. "These waters to the right," said +Zerina, "flow beneath your garden, and this is why it blooms so +freshly; by the other side we get down into the great stream." On a +sudden, out of all the channels, and from every quarter of the lake, +came a crowd of little children swimming up; some wore garlands of +sedge and water-lily; some had red stems of coral, others were blowing +on crooked shells; a tumultuous noise echoed merrily from the dark +shores; among the children might be seen the fairest women sporting in +the waters, and often several of the children sprang about some one of +them, and with kisses hung upon her neck and shoulders. All saluted +the stranger; and these steered onward through the revelry out of the +lake, into a little river, which grew narrower and narrower. At last +the boat came aground. The strangers took their leave, and Zerina +knocked against the cliff. This opened like a door, and a female form, +all red, assisted them to mount. "Are you all brisk here?" inquired +Zerina. "They are just at work," replied the other, "and happy as +they could wish; indeed, the heat is very pleasant." + +They went up a winding stair, and on a sudden Mary found herself in a +most resplendent hall, so that, as she entered, her eyes were dazzled +by the radiance. Flame-colored tapestry covered the walls with a +purple glow; and when her eye had grown a little used to it, the +stranger saw, to her astonishment, that, in the tapestry, there were +figures moving up and down in dancing joyfulness, in form so +beautiful, and of so fair proportions, that nothing could be seen more +graceful; their bodies were as of red crystal, so that it appeared as +if the blood were visible within them, flowing and playing in its +courses. They smiled on the stranger, and saluted her with various +bows; but as Mary was about approaching nearer them, Zerina plucked +her sharply back, crying: "Thou wilt burn thyself, my little Mary, for +the whole of it is fire." + +Mary felt the heat. "Why do the pretty creatures not come out," asked +she, "and play with us?" + +"As thou livest in the Air," replied the other, "so are they obliged +to stay continually in Fire, and would faint and languish if they left +it. Look now, how glad they are, how they laugh and shout; those down +below spread out the fire-floods everywhere beneath the earth, and +thereby the flowers, and fruits, and wine, are made to flourish; these +red streams again are to run beside the brooks of water; and thus the +fiery creatures are kept ever busy and glad. But for thee it is too +hot here; let us return to the garden." + +In the garden, the scene had changed since they left it. The moonshine +was lying on every flower; the birds were silent, and the children +were asleep in complicated groups, among the green groves. Mary and +her friend, however, did not feel fatigue, but walked about in the +warm summer night, in abundant talk, till morning. + +When the day dawned, they refreshed themselves on fruit and milk, and +Mary said: "Suppose we go, by way of change, to the firs, and see how +things look there?" + +"With all my heart," replied Zerina; "thou wilt see our watchmen, +too, and they will surely please thee; they are standing up among the +trees on the mound." The two proceeded through the flower-gardens by +pleasant groves, full of nightingales; then they ascended vine-hills; +and at last, after long following the windings of a clear brook, +arrived at the firs and the height which bounded the domain. "How does +it come," asked Mary, "that we have to walk so far here, when, +without, the circuit is so narrow?" + +"I know not," said her friend; "but so it is." + +They mounted to the dark firs, and a chill wind blew from without in +their faces; a haze seemed lying far and wide over the landscape. On +the top were many strange forms standing, with mealy, dusty faces, +their misshapen heads not unlike those of white owls; they were clad +in folded cloaks of shaggy wool; they held umbrellas of curious skins +stretched out above them; and they waved and fanned themselves +incessantly with large bat's wings, which flared out curiously beside +the woolen roquelaures. "I could laugh, yet I am frightened," cried +Mary. + +"These are our good trusty watchmen," said her playmate; "they stand +here and wave their fans, that cold anxiety and inexplicable fear may +fall on every one that attempts to approach us. They are covered so, +because without it is now cold and rainy, which they cannot bear. But +snow, or wind, or cold air, never reaches down to us; here is an +everlasting spring and summer: yet if these poor people on the top +were not frequently relieved, they would certainly perish." + +"But who are you, then?" inquired Mary, while again descending to the +flowery fragrance; "or have you no name at all?" + +"We are called the Elves," replied the friendly child; "people talk +about us on the Earth, as I have heard." + +They now perceived a mighty bustle on the green. "The fair Bird is +come!" cried the children to them: all hastened to the hall. Here, as +they approached, young and old were crowding over the threshold, all +shouting for joy; and from within resounded a triumphant peal of +music. Having entered, they perceived the vast circuit filled with the +most varied forms, and all were looking upward to a large Bird with +gleaming plumage, that was sweeping slowly round in the dome, and in +its stately flight describing many a circle. The music sounded more +gaily than before; the colors and lights alternated more rapidly. At +last the music ceased; and the Bird, with a rustling noise, floated +down upon a glittering crown that hung hovering in air under the high +window by which the hall was lighted from above. His plumage was +purple and green, and shining golden streaks played through it; on his +head there waved a diadem of feathers, so resplendent that they +sparkled like jewels. His bill was red, and his legs of a flashing +blue. As he moved, the tints gleamed through each other, and the eye +was charmed with their radiance. His size was as that of an eagle. But +now he opened his glittering beak; and sweetest melodies came pouring +from his moved breast, in finer tones than the lovesick nightingale +gives forth; still stronger rose the song, and streamed like floods of +Light, so that all, the very children themselves, were moved by it to +tears of joy and rapture. When he ceased, all bowed before him; he +again flew round the dome in circles, then darted through the door, +and soared into the light heaven, where he shone far up like a red +point, and then soon vanished from their eyes. + +"Why are ye all so glad?" inquired Mary, bending to her fair playmate, +who seemed smaller than yesterday. + +"The King is coming!" said the little one; "many of us have never seen +him, and whithersoever he turns his face, there are happiness and +mirth; we have long looked for him, more anxiously than you look for +spring when winter lingers with you; and now he has announced, by his +fair herald, that he is at hand. This wise and glorious Bird, that has +been sent to us by the King, is called Phoenix; he dwells far off in +Arabia, on a tree--there is no other that resembles it on Earth, as +in like manner there is no second Phoenix. + +[Illustration: #DANCE OF THE ELVES# MORITZ VON SCHWIND] + +When he feels himself grown old, he builds a pile of balm and incense, +kindles it, and dies singing; and then from the fragrant ashes soars +up the renewed Phoenix with unlessened beauty. It is seldom he so +wings his course that men behold him; and when once in centuries this +does occur, they note it in their annals, and expect remarkable +events. But now, my friend, thou and I must part; for the sight of the +King is not permitted thee." + +Then the lady with the golden robe came through the throng, and +beckoning Mary to her, led her into a sequestered walk. "Thou must +leave us, my dear child," said she; "the King is to hold his court +here for twenty years, perhaps longer; and fruitfulness and blessings +will spread far over the land, but chiefly here beside us; all the +brooks and rivulets will become more bountiful, all the fields and +gardens richer, the wine more generous, the meadows more fertile, and +the woods more fresh and green; a milder air will blow, no hail shall +hurt, no flood shall threaten. Take this ring, and think of us; but +beware of telling any one of our existence or we must fly this land, +and thou and all around will lose the happiness and blessing of our +neighborhood. Once more, kiss thy playmate, and farewell." They issued +from the walk; Zerina wept, Mary stooped to embrace her, and they +parted. Already she was on the narrow bridge; the cold air was blowing +on her back from the firs; the little dog barked with all its might, +and rang its little bell; she looked round, then hastened over, for +the darkness of the firs, the bleakness of the ruined huts, the +shadows of the twilight, were filling her with terror. + +"What a night my parents must have had on my account!" said she within +herself, as she stepped on the green; "and I dare not tell them where +I have been, or what wonders I have witnessed, nor indeed would they +believe me." Two men passing by saluted her, and as they went along, +she heard them say: "What a pretty girl! Where can she have come +from?" With quickened steps she approached the house; but the trees +which were hanging last night loaded with fruit were now standing dry +and leafless; the house was differently painted, and a new barn had +been built beside it. Mary was amazed, and thought she must be +dreaming. In this perplexity she opened the door; and behind the table +sat her father, between an unknown woman and a stranger youth. "Good +God! Father," cried she, "where is my mother?" + +"Thy mother!" said the woman, with a forecasting tone, and sprang +toward her: "Ha, thou surely canst not--yes, indeed, indeed thou art +my lost, long-lost, dear, only Mary!" She had recognized her by a +little brown mole beneath the chin, as well as by her eyes and shape. +All embraced her, all were moved with joy, and the parents wept. Mary +was astonished that she almost reached to her father's stature; and +she could not understand how her mother had become so changed and +faded; she asked the name of the stranger youth. "It is our neighbor's +Andrew," said Martin. "How comest thou to us again, so unexpectedly, +after seven long years? Where hast thou been? Why didst thou never +send us tidings of thee?" + +"Seven years!" said Mary, and could not order her ideas and +recollections. "Seven whole years?" + +"Yes, yes," said Andrew, laughing, and shaking her trustfully by the +hand; "I have won the race, good Mary; I was at the pear-tree and back +again seven years ago, and thou, sluggish creature, art but just +returned!" + +They again asked, they pressed her; but remembering her instruction, +she could answer nothing. It was they themselves chiefly that, by +degrees, shaped a story for her: How, having lost her way, she had +been taken up by a coach, and carried to a strange remote part, where +she could not give the people any notion of her parents' residence; +how she was conducted to a distant town, where certain worthy persons +brought her up, and loved her; how they had lately died, and at length +she had recollected her birthplace, and so returned. "No matter how it +is!" exclaimed her mother; "enough that we have thee again, my little +daughter, my own, my all!" + +Andrew waited supper, and Mary could not be at home in anything she +saw. The house seemed small and dark; she felt astonished at her +dress, which was clean and simple, but appeared quite foreign; she +looked at the ring on her finger, and the gold of it glittered +strangely, inclosing a stone of burning red. To her father's question, +she replied that the ring also was a present from her benefactors. + +She was glad when the hour of sleep arrived, and she hastened to her +bed. Next morning she felt much more collected; she had now arranged +her thoughts a little, and could better stand the questions of the +people in the village, all of whom came in to bid her welcome. Andrew +was there too with the earliest, active, glad, and serviceable beyond +all others. The blooming maiden of fifteen had made a deep impression +on him; he had passed a sleepless night. The people of the castle +likewise sent for Mary, and she had once more to tell her story to +them, which was now grown quite familiar to her. The old Count and his +Lady were surprised at her good breeding; she was modest, but not +embarrassed; she made answer courteously in good phrases to all their +questions; all fear of noble persons and their equipage had passed +away from her; for when she measured these halls and forms by the +wonders and the high beauty she had seen with the Elves in their +hidden abode, this earthly splendor seemed but dim to her, the +presence of men was almost mean. The young lords were charmed with her +beauty. + +It was now February. The trees were budding earlier than usual; the +nightingale had never come so soon; the spring rose fairer in the land +than the oldest men could recollect it. In every quarter, little +brooks gushed out to irrigate the pastures and meadows; the hills +seemed heaving, the vines rose higher and higher, the fruit-trees +blossomed as they had never done; and a swelling fragrant blessedness +hung suspended heavily in rosy clouds over the scene. All prospered +beyond expectation: no rude day, no tempest injured the fruits; the +wine flowed blushing in immense grapes; and the inhabitants of the +place felt astonished, and were captivated as in a sweet dream. The +next year was like its forerunner; but men had now become accustomed +to the marvelous. In autumn, Mary yielded to the pressing entreaties +of Andrew and her parents; she was betrothed to him, and in winter +they were married. + +She often thought with inward longing of her residence behind the +fir-trees; she continued serious and still. Beautiful as all that lay +around her was, she knew of something yet more beautiful; and from the +remembrance of this a faint regret attuned her nature to soft +melancholy. It smote her painfully when her father and mother talked +about the gipsies and vagabonds that dwelt in the dark spot of ground. +Often she was on the point of speaking out in defense of those good +beings, whom she knew to be the benefactors of the land; especially to +Andrew, who appeared to take delight in zealously abusing them; yet +still she repressed the word that was struggling to escape her bosom. +So passed this year; in the next, she was solaced by a little +daughter, whom she named Elfrida, thinking of the designation of her +friendly Elves. + +The young people lived with Martin and Brigitta, the house being large +enough for all, and helped their parents in conducting their now +extended husbandry. The little Elfrida soon displayed peculiar +faculties and gifts; for she could walk at a very early age, and could +speak perfectly before she was a twelvemonth old; and after some few +years she had become so wise and clever, and of such wondrous beauty, +that all people regarded her with astonishment, and her mother could +not banish the thought that her child resembled one of those shining +little ones in the space behind the Firs. Elfrida cared not to be with +other children, but seemed to avoid, with a sort of horror, their +tumultuous amusements, and liked best to be alone. She would then +retire into a corner of the garden, and read, or work diligently with +her needle; often also you might see her sitting, as if deep in +thought, or impetuously walking up and down the alleys, speaking to +herself. Her parents readily allowed her to have her will in these +things, for she was healthy, and waxed apace; only her strange +sagacious answers and observations often made them anxious. "Such wise +children do not grow to age," her grandmother, Brigitta, many times +observed; "they are too good for this world; the child, besides, is +beautiful beyond nature, and will never find her proper place on +Earth." + +The little girl had this peculiarity, that she was very loath to let +herself be served by any one, but endeavored to do everything herself. +She was almost the earliest riser in the house; she washed herself +carefully, and dressed without assistance; at night she was equally +careful; she took special heed to pack up her clothes and belongings +with her own hands, allowing no one, not even her mother, to meddle +with her articles. The mother humored her in this caprice, not +thinking it of any consequence. But what was her astonishment, when, +happening one holiday to insist, regardless of Elfrida's tears and +screams, on dressing her out for a visit to the castle, she found upon +her breast, suspended by a string, a piece of gold of a strange form, +which she directly recognized as one of the sort she had seen in such +abundance in the subterranean vaults! The little thing was greatly +frightened, and at last confessed that she had found it in the garden, +and, as she liked it much, had kept it carefully; she at the same time +prayed so earnestly and pressingly to have it back that Mary fastened +it again in its former place, and, full of thoughts, went out with her +in silence to the castle. + +Sideward from the farm-house lay some offices for the storing of +produce and implements; and behind these there was a little green, +with an old arbor, now visited by no one, as, from the new arrangement +of the buildings, it lay too far from the garden. In this solitude +Elfrida delighted most; and it occurred to nobody to interrupt her +here, so that frequently her parents did not see her for half a day. +One afternoon her mother chanced to be in these buildings, seeking for +some lost article among the lumber; and she noticed that a beam of +light was coming in, through a chink in the wall. She took a thought +of looking through this aperture, and seeing what her child was busied +with; and it happened that a stone was lying loose, and could be +pushed aside, so that she obtained a view right into the arbor. +Elfrida was sitting there on a little bench, and beside her the +well-known Zerina; and the children were playing and amusing each +other, in the kindliest unity. The Elf embraced her beautiful +companion, and said mournfully: "Ah! dear little creature, as I sport +with thee, so have I sported with thy mother, when she was a child; +but you mortals so soon grow tall and thoughtful! It is very hard; +wert thou but to be a child as long as I!" + +"Willingly would I do it," said Elfrida; "but they all say I shall +come to sense and give over playing altogether; for I have great +gifts, as they think, for growing wise. Ah! and then I shall see thee +no more, thou dear Zerina! Yet it is with us as with the fruit-tree +flowers--how glorious the blossoming apple-tree, with its red bursting +buds! It looks so stately and broad; and every one that passes under +it thinks surely something great will come of it; then the sun grows +hot, and the buds come joyfully forth; but the wicked kernel is +already there, which pushes off and casts away the fair flower's +dress; and now, in pain and waxing, it can do nothing more, but must +grow to fruit in harvest. An apple, to be sure, is pretty and +refreshing; yet nothing to the blossom of spring. So is it also with +us mortals; I am not glad in the least at growing to be a tall girl. +Ah! could I but once visit you!" + +"Since the King is with us," said Zerina, "it is quite impossible; but +I will come to thee, my darling, often, often, and none shall see me +either here or there. I will pass invisible through the air, or fly +over to thee like a bird. Oh, we will be much, much together, while +thou art so little! What can I do to please thee?" + +"Thou must like me very dearly," said Elfrida, "as I like thee in my +heart; but come, let us make another rose." Zerina took a well-known +box from her bosom, threw two grains from it on the ground, and +instantly a green bush stood before them, with two deep-red roses, +bending their heads as if to kiss each other. The children plucked +them smiling, and the bush disappeared. "O that it would not die so +soon!" said Elfrida; "this red child, this wonder of the Earth!" + +"Give it me here," said the little Elf; then breathed thrice upon the +budding rose, and kissed it thrice. "Now," said she, giving back the +rose, "it will continue fresh and blooming till winter." + +"I will keep it," said Elfrida, "as an image of thee; I will guard it +in my little room, and kiss it night and morning as if it were +thyself." + +"The sun is setting," said the other; "I must home." They embraced +again, and Zerina vanished. + +In the evening, Mary clasped her child to her breast, with a feeling +of alarm and veneration. She henceforth allowed the good little girl +more liberty than formerly; and often calmed her husband, when he came +to search for the child; which for some time he was wont to do, as her +retiredness did not please him, and he feared that, in the end, it +might make her silly, or even pervert her understanding. The mother +often glided to the chink; and almost always found the bright Elf +beside her child, employed in sport, or in earnest conversation. + +"Wouldst thou like to fly?" inquired Zerina once. + +"Oh, well! How well!" replied Elfrida; and the fairy clasped her +mortal playmate in her arms, and mounted with her from the ground, +till they hovered above the arbor. The mother, in alarm, forgot +herself, and pushed out her head in terror to look after them; when +Zerina from the air, held up her finger, and threatened, yet smiled; +then descended with the child, embraced her, and disappeared. After +this, it happened more than once that Mary was observed by her; and +every time, the shining little creature shook her head, or threatened, +yet with friendly looks. + +Often, in disputing with her husband, Mary had said in her zeal: "Thou +dost injustice to the poor people in the hut!" But when Andrew pressed +her to explain why she differed in opinion from the whole village, +nay, from his lordship himself, and why she could understand it better +than the whole of them, she still broke off embarrassed, and became +silent. One day, after dinner, Andrew grew more insistent than ever, +and maintained that, by one means or another, the crew must be packed +away, as a nuisance to the country; when his wife, in anger, said to +him: "Hush! for they are benefactors to thee and to every one of us." + +"Benefactors!" cried the other, in astonishment; "These rogues and +vagabonds?" + +In her indignation, she was now at last tempted to relate to him, +under promise of the strictest secrecy, the history of her youth; and +as Andrew at every word grew more incredulous, and shook his head in +mockery, she took him by the hand, and led him to the chink; where, to +his amazement, he beheld the glittering Elf sporting with his child, +and caressing her in the arbor. He knew not what to say; an +exclamation of astonishment escaped him, and Zerina raised her eyes. +On the instant she grew pale, and trembled violently; not with +friendly, but with indignant looks, she made the sign of threatening, +and then said to Elfrida "Thou canst not help it, dearest heart; but +outsiders will never learn sense, wise as they believe themselves." +She embraced the little one with stormy haste; and then, in the shape +of a raven, flew with hoarse cries over the garden, toward the firs. + +In the evening, the little one was very still, she kissed her rose +with tears; Mary felt depressed and frightened; Andrew scarcely spoke. +It grew dark. Suddenly there went a rustling through the trees; birds +flew to and fro with wild screaming, thunder was heard to roll, the +earth shook, and tones of lamentation moaned in the air. Andrew and +his wife had not courage to rise; they wrapped themselves in their bed +clothes, and with fear and trembling awaited the day. Toward morning +it grew calmer; and all was silent when the sun, with his cheerful +light, rose over the wood. + +Andrew dressed himself, and Mary now observed that the stone of the +ring upon her finger had become quite pale. On opening the door, the +sun shone clear on their faces, but the scene around them they could +scarcely recognize. The freshness of the wood was gone; the hills were +shrunk, the brooks were flowing languidly with scanty streams, the sky +seemed gray; and when you turned to the Firs, they were standing there +no darker or more dreary than the other trees. The huts behind were no +longer frightful; and several inhabitants of the village came and told +about the fearful night, and how they had been across the spot where +the gipsies had lived; how these people must have left the place at +last, for their huts were standing empty, and within had quite a +common look, just like the dwellings of other poor people; some of +their household gear was left behind. + +Elfrida in secret said to her mother: "I could not sleep last night; +and in my fright at the noise, I was praying from the bottom of my +heart, when the door suddenly opened, and my playmate entered to take +leave of me. She had a traveling-pouch slung round her, a hat on her +head, and a large staff in her hand. She was very angry at thee; since +on thy account she had now to suffer the severest and most painful +punishments, as she had always been so fond of thee; for all of them, +she said, were very loath to leave this quarter." + +Mary forbade her to speak of this; and now the ferryman came across +the river, and told them new wonders. As it was growing dark, a +stranger of large size had come to him, and had hired his boat till +sunrise, but with this condition, that the boatman should remain quiet +in his house--at least should not cross the threshold of his door. "I +was frightened," continued the old man, "and the strange bargain would +not let me sleep. I slipped softly to the window, and looked toward +the river. Great clouds were driving restlessly through the sky, and +the distant woods were rustling fearfully; it was as if my cottage +shook, and moans and lamentations glided round it. On a sudden, I +perceived a white streaming light that grew broader and broader, like +many thousands of falling stars; sparkling and waving, it proceeded +forward from the dark Fir-ground, moved over the fields, and spread +itself along toward the river. Then I heard a trampling, a jingling, a +bustling, and rushing, nearer and nearer; it went forward to my boat, +and all stepped into it, men and women; as it seemed, and children; +and the tall stranger ferried them over. In the river, by the boat, +were swimming many thousands of glittering forms; in the air white +clouds and lights were wavering; and all lamented and bewailed that +they must travel forth so far, far away, and leave their beloved +dwelling. The noise of the rudder and the water creaked and gurgled +between whiles, and then suddenly there would be silence. Many a time +the boat landed, and went back, and was again laden; many heavy casks, +too, they took along with them, which multitudes of horrid-looking +little fellows carried and rolled; whether they were devils or +goblins, Heaven only knows. Then came, in waving brightness, a stately +train; it seemed an old man, mounted on a small white horse, and all +were crowding round him. I saw nothing of the horse but its head; for +the rest of it was covered with costly glittering cloths and +trappings; on his brow the old man had a crown, so bright that, as he +came across, I thought the sun was rising there and the redness of the +dawn glimmering in my eyes. Thus it went on all night; I at last fell +asleep in the tumult, half in joy, half in terror. In the morning all +was still; but the river is, as it were, run off, and I know not how +I am to use my boat in it now." + +The same year there came a blight; the woods died away, the springs +ran dry; and the scene, which had once been the joy of every traveler, +was in autumn standing waste, naked, and bald, scarcely showing here +and there, in the sea of sand, a spot or two where grass, with a dingy +greenness, still grew up. The fruit-trees all withered, the vines +faded away, and the aspect of the place became so melancholy that the +Count, with his people, next year left the castle, which in time +decayed and fell to ruins. + +Elfrida gazed on her rose day and night with deep longing, and thought +of her kind playmate; and as it drooped and withered, so did she also +hang her head; and before the spring, the little maiden had herself +faded away. Mary often stood upon the spot before the hut, and wept +for the happiness that had departed. She wasted herself away like her +child, and in a few years she too was gone. Old Martin, with his +son-in-law, returned to the quarter where he had lived before. + + + + +HEINRICH VON KLEIST + + * * * * * + +THE LIFE OF HEINRICH VON KLEIST + +By JOHN S. NOLLEN, PH.D. + +President of Lake Forest College + + +Brandenburg has, from olden times, been the stern mother of soldiers, +rearing her sons in a discipline that has seemed harsh to the gentler +children of sunnier lands. The rigid and formal pines that grow in +sombre military files from the sandy ground make a fit landscape for +this race of fighting and ruling men. In the wider extent of Prussia +as well, the greatest names have been those of generals and statesmen, +such as the Great Elector, Frederick the Great, and Bismarck, rather +than poets and artists. Even among the notable writers of this region, +intellectual power has usually predominated over gifts of feeling or +of imagination; the arid, formal talent of Gottsched is an exemplary +instance, and the singularly cold and colorless mind of the greatest +thinker of modern times, Immanuel Kant, seems eminently Prussian in +quality. Growing out of such traditions and antecedents as these, the +genius of Heinrich von Kleist appears as a striking anomaly. + +This first great literary artist of Prussia was descended from a +representative Prussian family of soldiers, which had numbered +eighteen generals among its members. Heinrich von Kleist was born +October 18, 1777, at Frankfort-on-the-Oder, in the heart of +Brandenburg, where his father was stationed as a captain in the +service of Frederick the Great. The parents, both of gentle birth, +died before their children had grown to maturity. Heinrich was +predestined by all the traditions of the family to a military career; +after a private education he became, at the age of fourteen, a +corporal in the regiment of guards at Potsdam. + +[Illustration: #HEINRICH VON KLEIST IN HIS TWENTY-FOURTH YEAR# Made +after a miniature presented by the poet to his bride] + +The regiment was ordered south for the Rhine campaign against the +French revolutionists, but the young soldier saw little actual +fighting, and in June, 1795, his battalion had returned to Potsdam; he +was then an ensign, and in his twentieth year was promoted to the rank +of second lieutenant. + +The humdrum duties and the easy pleasures of garrison life had no +lasting charms for the future poet, who was as yet unconscious of his +latent power, but was restlessly reaching out for a wider and deeper +experience. We soon find him preparing himself, by energetic private +study, for the University; in April, 1799, against the wishes of his +family and his superior officers, he obtained a discharge from the +army and entered upon his brief course as a student in his native +city. He applied himself with laborious zeal to the mastery of a wide +range of subjects, and hastened, with pedantic gravity, to retail his +newly won learning to his sisters and a group of their friends. For +the time being, the impulse of self-expression took this didactic +turn, which is very prominent also in his correspondence. Within the +year he was betrothed to a member of this informal class, Wilhelmina +von Zenge, the daughter of an officer. The question of a career now +crowded out his interest in study; in August, 1800, as a step toward +the solution of this problem, Kleist returned to Berlin and secured a +modest appointment in the customs department. He found no more +satisfaction in the civil than in his former military service, and all +manner of vague plans, artistic, literary and academic, occupied his +mind. Intensive study of Kant's philosophy brought on an intellectual +crisis, in which the ardent student found himself bereft of his fond +hope of attaining to absolute truth. Meanwhile the romantic appeal of +Nature, first heeded on a trip to Wuerzburg, and the romantic lure of +travel, drew the dreamer irresistibly away from his desk. His sister +Ulrica accompanied him on a journey that began in April, 1801, and +brought them, by a devious route, to Paris in July. By this time +Kleist had become clearly conscious of his vocation; the strong +creative impulse that had hitherto bewildered him now found its proper +vent in poetic expression, and he felt himself dedicated to a literary +career. With characteristic secretiveness he kept hidden, even from +his sister, the drama at which he was quietly working. + +Absorbed in his new ambition, Kleist found little in Paris to interest +him. He felt the need of solitude for the maturing of his plans, and +with the double object of seeking in idyllic pursuits the inspiration +of Nature and of earning leisure for writing, he proposed to his +betrothed that she join him secretly in establishing a home upon a +small farm in Switzerland. When Wilhelmina found it impossible to +accept this plan, Kleist coldly severed all relations with her. He +journeyed to Switzerland in December, 1801, and in Bern became +acquainted with a group of young authors, the novelist Heinrich +Zschokke, the publisher Heinrich Gessner, and Ludwig Wieland, son of +the famous author of _Oberon_. To these sympathetic friends he read +his first tragedy, which, in its earlier draft, had a Spanish setting, +as _The Thierrez Family_ or _The Ghonorez Family_, but which, on their +advice, was given a German background. This drama Gessner published +for Kleist, under the title _The Schroffenstein Family_, in the winter +of 1802-03. It had no sooner appeared than the author felt himself to +have outgrown its youthful weaknesses of imitation and exaggeration. +Another dramatic production grew directly out of the discussions of +this little circle. The friends agreed, on a wager, to put into +literary form the story suggested by an engraving that hung in +Zschokke's room. By common consent the prize was awarded to Kleist's +production, his one comedy, _The Broken Jug_. + +In April, 1802, Kleist realized his romantic dream by taking up his +abode, in rural seclusion, on a little island at the outlet of the +Lake of Thun, amid the majestic scenery of the Bernese Oberland. In +this retreat, encouraged by the applause of his first confidants, he +labored with joyous energy, recasting his _Schroffenstein Family_, +working out the _Broken Jug_, meditating historical dramas on Leopold +of Austria and Peter the Hermit, and expending the best of his +untrained genius on the plan of a tragedy, _Robert Guiscard_, in which +he strove to create a drama of a new type, combining the beauties of +Greek classical art and of Shakespeare; with his _Guiscard_ the young +poet even dared hope to "snatch the laurel wreath from Goethe's brow." + +Two months of intense mental exertion in the seclusion of his island +left Kleist exhausted, and he fell seriously ill; whereupon Ulrica, on +receiving belated news of his plight, hastened to Bern to care for +him. When a political revolution drove Ludwig Wieland from Bern, they +followed the latter to Weimar, where the poet Wieland, the dean of the +remarkable group of great authors gathered at Weimar, received Kleist +kindly, and made him his guest at his country estate. With great +difficulty Wieland succeeded in persuading his secretive visitor to +reveal his literary plans; and when Kleist recited from memory some of +the scenes of his unfinished _Guiscard_, the old poet was transported +with enthusiasm; these fragments seemed to him worthy of the united +genius of AEschylus, Sophocles, and Shakespeare, and he was convinced +that Kleist had the power to "fill the void in the history of the +German drama that even Goethe and Schiller had not filled." But in +spite of Wieland's generous encouragement, Kleist found it impossible +to complete this masterpiece, and his hopeless pursuit of the perfect +ideal became an intolerable obsession to his ambitious and sensitive +soul. He could not remain in Weimar. In Dresden old friends sought to +cheer him in his desperate attempts to seize the elusive ideal; to +more than one of them, in his despair, he proposed a joint suicide. +Again he was driven to seek solace and inspiration in travel, a friend +accompanying him to Switzerland. Arrived at Geneva in October, 1803, +Kleist fell into the deepest despondency, and wrote Ulrica a letter +full of hopeless renunciation. Half crazed by disappointment and +wounded pride, he rushed madly through France to Paris, broke with his +friend, who had again repelled a joint suicide, burned his manuscript +of _Guiscard_, and made secretly for Boulogne, hoping to find an +honorable death in Napoleon's projected invasion of England. +Fortunately he fell in with an acquaintance who saved him from the +risk of being arrested as a spy, and started him back on his homeward +way. He was detained at Mentz by serious illness, but finally, in +June, 1804, reappeared in Potsdam. The poet's spirit was broken, and +he was glad to accept a petty civil post that took him to Koenigsberg. +After a year of quiet work, he was enabled, by a small pension from +Queen Louise, to resign his office and again devote himself to +literature. + +The two years spent in Koenigsberg were years of remarkable development +in Kleist's literary power. Warned by the catastrophe of the earlier +attempt to reach the heights at a single bound, he now schooled +himself with simpler tasks: adaptations, from the French, of La +Fontaine's poem, _The two Pigeons_, and of Moliere's comedy, +_Amphitryon_--both so altered in the interpretation that they seem +more like originals than translations; prose tales that are admirable +examples of this form--_The Marquise of O._, _The Earthquake in +Chili_, and the first part of the masterly short story _Michael +Kohlhaas_; and the recasting of the unique comedy _The Broken Jug_. +Finally he attempted another great drama in verse, _Penthesilea_, +embodying in the old classical story the tragedy of his own desperate +struggle for _Guiscard_, and his crushing defeat. + +Meanwhile the clouds were gathering about his beloved country, and in +October, 1806, the thunderbolt fell in the rout of the Prussian army +at Jena. Napoleon's victorious troops pressed on to Berlin and the +Prussian court retreated with the tide of fugitives to Koenigsberg. +Kleist was overwhelmed by the misery of this cataclysm, which, +however, he had clearly foreseen and foretold. With a group of +friends he started on foot for Dresden, but was arrested as a spy at +the gates of Berlin and held for months as a prisoner in French +fortresses, before the energetic efforts of Ulrica and others procured +his release. + +Late in July, 1807, he finally arrived in Dresden, where he remained +until April, 1809. These were the happiest and the most prolific +months of his fragmentary life. The best literary and social circles +of the Saxon capital were open to him, his talent was recognized by +the leading men of the city, a laurel wreath was placed upon his brow +by "the prettiest hands in Dresden;" at last he found all his hopes +being realized. With three friends he embarked on an ambitious +publishing enterprise, which included the issuing of a sumptuous +literary and artistic monthly, the _Phoebus_. This venture was +foredoomed to failure by the inexperience of its projectors and by the +unsettled condition of a time full of political upheaval and most +unfavorable to any literary enterprise. Kleist's own contributions to +this periodical were of the highest value; here appeared first in +print generous portions of _Penthesilea, The Broken Jug_, and the new +drama _Kitty of Heilbronn_, the first act of the ill-fated _Robert +Guiscard_, evidently reproduced from memory, _The Marquise of O._, and +part of _Michael Kohlhaas_. If we add to these works the great +patriotic drama, _Arminius_ (_Die Hermannsschlacht_), two tales, _The +Betrothal in San Domingo_ and _The Foundling_, and lyric and narrative +poems, the production of the brief period in Dresden is seen to bulk +very large. + +In the stress of the times and in spite of the most strenuous efforts, +the _Phoebus_ went under with the first volume, and the publishing +business was a total wreck. Kleist's joy at the acceptance of _The +Broken Jug_ by Goethe for the Weimar theatre was turned to bitterness +when, because of unintelligent acting and stage management, this +brilliant comedy failed wretchedly; the disappointed author held +Goethe responsible for this fiasco and foolishly attacked him in a +series of spiteful epigrams. He longed to have his _Arminius_ +performed at Vienna, but the Austrian authorities were too timid to +risk the production of a play that openly preached German unity and a +war of revenge against the "Roman tyranny" of Napoleon. Kleist then +turned to lyric poetry and polemic tirades for the expression of his +patriotic ardor. When Austria rose against Napoleon, he started for +the seat of war and was soon the happy eye-witness of the Austrian +victory at Aspern, in May, 1809. In Prague, with the support of the +commandant, he planned a patriotic journal, for which he immediately +wrote a series of glowing articles, mostly in the form of political +satires. This plan was wrecked by the decisive defeat of the Austrians +at Wagram in July. + +Broken by these successive disasters, Kleist again fell seriously ill; for +four months his friends had no word from him, and reports of his death +were current. In November, 1809, he came to Frankfort-on-the-Oder to +dispose of his share in the family home as a last means of raising funds, +and again disappeared. In January, 1810, he passed through Frankfort +on the way to Berlin, to which the Prussian court, now subservient to +Napoleon, had returned. He found many old friends in Berlin, and even +had prospects of recognition from the court, as the brave and beautiful +Queen Louise was very kindly disposed toward him. Again he turned to +dramatic production, and in the patriotic Prussian play, _Prince +Frederick of Homburg_, created his masterpiece. Fortune seemed once +more to be smiling upon the dramatist; the _Prince of Homburg_ was to +be dedicated to Queen Louise, and performed privately at the palace of +Prince Radziwill, before being given at the National Theatre. But +again the cup of success was dashed from the poet's lips. With the +death of Queen Louise, in July, 1810, he lost his only powerful friend +at court, and now found it impossible to get a hearing for his drama. + +[Illustration: SARCOPHAGUS OF QUEEN LOUISE IN THE MAUSOLEUM AT +CHARLOTTENBURG _Sculptor, Christian Rauch_] + +Other disappointments came in rapid succession. _Kitty of Heilbronn_, +performed after many delays at Vienna, was not a success, and Iffland, +the popular dramatist and director of the Berlin Theatre, rejected +this play, while accepting all manner of commonplace works by inferior +authors. The famous publisher Cotta did print _Penthesilea_, but was +so displeased with it that he made no effort to sell the edition, and +_Kitty of Heilbronn_, declined by Cotta, fell flat when it was printed +in Berlin. Two volumes of tales, including some masterpieces in this +form, hardly fared better; the new numbers in this collection were +_The Duel, The Beggar Woman of Locarno_, and _Saint Cecilia_. Again +the much-tried poet turned to journalism. From October, 1810, until +March, 1811, with the assistance of the popular philosopher Adam +Mueller and the well-known romantic authors Arnim, Brentano, and +Fouque, he published a politico-literary journal appearing five times +a week. The enterprise began well, and aroused a great deal of +interest. Gradually, however, the censorship of a government that was +at once timid and tyrannical limited the scope and destroyed the +effectiveness of the paper, and Kleist spent himself in vain efforts +to keep it alive. The poet now found himself in a desperate +predicament, financially ruined by the failure of all his enterprises, +and discredited with the government, from which he vainly sought some +reparation for the violence done to his journal; worst of all, he +found himself without honor at home, where he was looked upon as a +ne'er-do-well and a disgrace to the reputation of a fine old military +family. As a last resort he applied for reinstatement in the army, it +being a time when Prussia seemed to be girding herself for another +struggle with Napoleon. But the attempt to borrow enough money for his +military equipment failed, and he found no sympathy or support on a +final visit to his family in Frankfort. In October, 1811, the +patriotic men who had been quietly preparing for the inevitable war of +liberation were horrified by the movement of the Prussian government +toward another alliance with Napoleon; and Kleist felt it impossible +to enter an army that might at any moment be ordered to support the +arch-enemy of his country. His case had become utterly hopeless. + +At this juncture the unfortunate poet found what he had so often +sought in his crises of despair--a companion in suicide. Through Adam +Mueller he had become acquainted with Henrietta Vogel, an intelligent +woman of romantic temperament, who was doomed by an incurable disease +to a life of suffering. She listened eagerly to Kleist's suggestions +of an escape together from the intolerable ills of life. The two drove +from Berlin to a solitary inn on the shore of the Wannsee, near +Potsdam; here Kleist wrote a touching farewell letter to his sister, +and, on the afternoon of November 21, 1811, after the most deliberate +preparations, the companions strolled into the silent pine woods, +where Kleist took Henrietta's life and then his own. In the same +lonely place his grave was dug, and here the greatest Prussian poet +lay forgotten, after the brief, though violent, sensation of his +tragic end; half a century elapsed before a Prussian prince set up a +simple granite monument to mark the grave. Ten years passed after +Kleist's death before his last great dramas, _Arminius_ and the +_Prince of Homburg_, were published, edited by the eminent poet and +critic Ludwig Tieck, who also brought out, in 1826, the first +collection of Kleist's works. Long before this time, the patriotic +uprising for which he had labored with desperate zeal in his later +works, had brought liberation to Germany; it was on the thirty-sixth +anniversary of Kleist's birth that Napoleon's power was shaken by the +decisive Battle of Leipzig. + +Heinrich von Kleist was born into a generation that was dominated by +the spirit of Romanticism. Tieck and the Schlegels were a few years +older, Fouque was of the same age as he, and Arnim and Brentano +somewhat younger. His acquaintance was largely with the authors who +represented this tendency. In his own works, however, Kleist was +singularly independent of the romantic influence. This is the more +remarkable inasmuch as his character had many traits in common with +the ardent spirits of the Romantic group. His uncompromising +individualism and overweening ambition, his love of travel, his +enthusiastic acceptance of Rousseau's gospel of Nature, are +characteristically Romantic, and so, we may say, is his passionate +patriotism. Eccentricities he had in plenty; there was something +morbid in his excessive reserve, his exaggerated secretiveness about +the most important interests of his life, as there surely was in his +moroseness, which deepened at times into black despair. Goethe was +most unpleasantly impressed by this abnormal quality of Kleist's +personality, and said of the younger poet: "In spite of my honest +desire to sympathize with him, I could not avoid a feeling of horror +and loathing, as of a body beautifully endowed by nature, but infected +with an incurable disease." That this judgment was unduly harsh is +evident enough from the confidence and affection that Kleist inspired +in many of the best men of his time. + +Whatever may have been Kleist's personal peculiarities, his works give +evidence of the finest artistic sanity and conscience. His acute sense +of literary form sets him off from the whole generation of +Romanticists, who held the author's personal caprice to be the supreme +law of poetry, and most of whose important works were either medleys +or fragments. He was his own severest critic, and labored over his +productions, as he did over his own education, with untiring energy +and intense concentration. A less scrupulous author would not have +destroyed the manuscript of _Robert Guiscard_ because he could not +keep throughout its action the splendid promise of the first act. His +works are usually marked by rare logical and artistic consistency. +Seldom is there any interruption of the unity and simple directness of +his actions by sub-plots or episodes, and he scorned the easy +theatrical devices by which the successful playwrights of his day +gained their effects. Whether in drama or story, his action grows +naturally out of the characters and the situations. Hence the +marvelous fact that his dramas can be performed with hardly an +alteration, though the author, never having seen any of them on the +stage, lacked the practical experience by which most dramatists learn +the technique of their art. + +Kleist evidently studied the models of classical art with care. His +unerring sense of form, his artistic restraint in a day when caprice +was the ruling fashion, and the conciseness of his expression, are +doubtless due to classical influence. But, at the same time, he was an +innovator, one of the first forerunners of modern realism. He +describes and characterizes with careful, often microscopic detail; +his psychological analysis is remarkably exact and incisive; and he +fearlessly uses the ugly or the trivial when either better serves his +purpose. + +In all the varied volume of Kleist's works, there is very little that +is mediocre or negligible. The _Schroffenstein Family_, to be sure, is +prentice work, but it can bear comparison with the first plays of the +greatest dramatists. The fragment of _Robert Guiscard_ is masterly in +its rapid cumulative exposition, representing the hero, idolized by +his troops, as stricken with the plague when the crowning glory of his +military career seems to be within his grasp; while the discord +between Guiscard's son and nephew presages an irrepressible family +conflict. The style, as Wieland felt when he listened with rapture to +the author's recital, is a blend of classical and Elizabethan art. The +opening chorus of the people, the formal balanced speeches, the +analytical action, beginning on the verge of the catastrophe, are +traits borrowed from Greek tragedy. On the other hand, there is much +realistic characterization and a Shakespearian variety and freedom of +tone. _The Broken Jug_, too, is analytical in its conduct. Almost from +the first it is evident that Adam, the village judge, is himself the +culprit in the case at trial in his court, and the comic efforts of +the arch-rascal to squirm out of the inevitable discovery only serve +to make his guilt the surer. In this comedy the blank verse adapts +itself to all the turns of familiar humorous dialogue, and the effect +of the Dutch genre-paintings of Teniers or Jan Steen is admirably +reproduced in dramatic form. The slowly moving action, constantly +reverting to past incidents, makes a successful performance difficult; +the fate of this work on the stage has depended upon finding an actor +capable of bringing out all the possibilities in the part of Adam, who +is a masterpiece of comic self-characterization. + +_Penthesilea_ is a work apart. Passionate, headlong, almost savage, is +the character of the queen of the Amazons, yet wonderfully sweet in +its gentler moods and glorified with the golden glow of high poetry. +Nothing could be further removed from the pseudo-classical manner of +the eighteenth century than this modern and individual interpretation +of the old mythical story of Penthesilea and Achilles, between whom +love breaks forth in the midst of mortal combat. The clash of passions +creates scenes in this drama that transcend the humanly and +dramatically permissible. Yet there is a wealth of imaginative beauty +and emotional melody in this tragedy beyond anything in Kleist's other +works. It was written with his heart's blood; in it he uttered all the +yearning and frenzy of his first passion for the unattainable and +ruined masterpiece _Guiscard_. + +_Kitty of Heilbronn_ stands almost at the opposite pole from +_Penthesilea_. The pathos of Griselda's unquestioning self-abnegation +is her portion; she is the extreme expression of the docile quality +that Kleist sought in his betrothed. Instead of the fabled scenes of +Homeric combat, we have here as a setting the richly romantic and +colorful life of the age of chivalry. The form, too, is far freer and +more expansive, with an unconventional mingling of verse and prose. + +The last two plays were born of the spirit that brought forth the War +of Liberation. In them Kleist gave undying expression to his ardent +patriotism; it was his deepest grief that these martial dramas were +not permitted to sound their trumpet-call to a humbled nation yearning +to be free. _Arminius_ is a great dramatized philippic. The ancient +Germanic chiefs Marbod and Arminius, representing in Kleist's +intention the Austria and Prussia of his day, are animated by one +common patriotic impulse, rising far above their mutual rivalries, to +cast off the hateful and oppressive yoke of Rome; and after the +decisive victory over Varus in the Teutoburg Forest, each of these +strong chiefs is ready in devoted self-denial to yield the primacy to +the other, in order that all Germans may stand together against the +common foe. _Prince Frederick of Homburg_ is a dramatic glorification +of the Prussian virtues of discipline and obedience. But the finely +drawn characters of this play are by no means rigid martinets. They +are largely, frankly, generously human, confessing the right of +feeling as well as reason to direct the will. Never has there been a +more sympathetic literary exposition of the soldierly character than +this last tribute of a devoted patriot to his beloved Brandenburg. + +The narrative works of Kleist maintain the same high level as his +dramas. _Michael Kohlhaas_ is a good example of this excellent +narrative art, for which Kleist found no models in German literature. +Unity is a striking characteristic; the action can usually be summed +up in a few words, such as the formula for this story, given expressly +on its first page: "His sense of justice made him a robber and a +murderer." There is no leisurely exposition of time, place, or +situation; all the necessary elements are given concisely in the first +sentences. The action develops logically, with effective use of +retardation and climax, but without disturbing episodes; and the +reader is never permitted to forget the central theme. The descriptive +element is realistic, with only pertinent details swiftly presented, +often in parentheses, while the action moves on. The characterization +is skilfully indirect, through unconscious action and speech. The +author does not shun the trivial or even the repulsive in detail, nor +does he fear the most tragic catastrophes. He is scrupulously +objective, and, in an age of expansive lyric expression, he is most +chary of comment. The sentence structure, as in the dramas, is often +intricate, but never lax. The whole work in all its parts is firmly +and finely forged by a master workman. + +Kleist has remained a solitary figure in German literature. Owing +little to the dominant literary influences of his day, he has also +found few imitators. Two generations passed before he began to come +into his heritage of legitimate fame. Now that a full century has +elapsed since his tragic death, his place is well assured among the +greatest dramatic and narrative authors of Germany. A brave man +struggling desperately against hopeless odds, a patriot expending his +genius with lavish unselfishness for the service of his country in her +darkest days, he has been found worthy by posterity to stand as the +most famous son of a faithful Prussian family of soldiers. + + + + +MICHAEL KOHLHAAS (1808) + +A Tale from an Old Chronicle + +TRANSLATED BY FRANCES A. KING + + +Toward the middle of the sixteenth century there lived on the banks of +the river Havel a horse-dealer by the name of Michael Kohlhaas, the +son of a school-master, one of the most upright and, at the same time, +one of the most terrible men of his day. Up to his thirtieth year this +extraordinary man would have been considered the model of a good +citizen. In a village which still bears his name, he owned a farmstead +on which he quietly supported himself by plying his trade. The +children with whom his wife presented him were brought up in the fear +of God, and taught to be industrious and honest; nor was there one +among his neighbors who had not enjoyed the benefit of his kindness or +his justice. In short, the world would have had every reason to bless +his memory if he had not carried to excess one virtue--his sense of +justice, which made of him a robber and a murderer. + +He rode abroad once with a string of young horses, all well fed and +glossy-coated, and was turning over in his mind how he would employ +the profit that he hoped to make from them at the fairs; part of it, +as is the way with good managers, he would use to gain future profits, +but he would also spend part of it in the enjoyment of the present. +While thus engaged he reached the Elbe, and near a stately castle, +situated on Saxon territory, he came upon a toll-bar which he had +never found on this road before. Just in the midst of a heavy shower +he halted with his horses and called to the toll-gate keeper, who +soon after showed his surly face at the window. The horse-dealer told +him to open the gate. "What new arrangement is this?" he asked, when +the toll-gatherer, after some time, finally came out of the house. + +"Seignorial privilege" answered the latter, unlocking the gate, +"conferred by the sovereign upon Squire Wenzel Tronka." + +"Is that so?" queried Kohlhaas; "the Squire's name is now Wenzel?" and +gazed at the castle, the glittering battlements of which looked out +over the field. "Is the old gentleman dead?" + +"Died of apoplexy," answered the gate keeper, as he raised the +toll-bar. + +"Hum! Too bad!" rejoined Kohlhaas. "An estimable old gentleman he was, +who liked to watch people come and go, and helped along trade and +traffic wherever he could. He once had a causeway built because a mare +of mine had broken her leg out there on the road leading to the +village. Well, how much is it?" he asked, and with some trouble got +out the few groschen demanded by the gate keeper from under his cloak, +which was fluttering in the wind. "Yes, old man," he added, picking up +the leading reins as the latter muttered "Quick, quick!" and cursed +the weather; "if this tree had remained standing in the forest it +would have been better for me and for you." With this he gave him the +money, and started to ride on. + +He had hardly passed under the toll-bar, however, when a new voice +cried out from the tower behind him, "Stop there, horse-dealer!" and +he saw the castellan close a window and come hurrying down to him. +"Well, I wonder what he wants!" Kohlhaas asked himself, and halted +with his horses. Buttoning another waistcoat over his ample body, the +castellan came up to him and, standing with his back to the storm, +demanded his passport. + +"My passport?" queried Kohlhaas. Somewhat disconcerted, he replied +that he had none, so far as he knew, but that, if some one would just +describe to him what in the name of goodness this was, perhaps he +might accidentally happen to have one about him. The castellan, eying +him askance, retorted that without an official permit no horse-dealer +was allowed to cross the border with horses. The horse-dealer assured +him that seventeen times in his life he had crossed the border without +such a permit; that he was well acquainted with all the official +regulations which applied to his trade; that this would probably prove +to be only a mistake; the castellan would please consider the matter +and, since he had a long day's journey before him, not detain him here +unnecessarily any longer. But the castellan answered that he was not +going to slip through the eighteenth time, that the ordinance +concerning this matter had been only recently issued, and that he must +either procure the passport here or go back to the place from which he +had come. After a moment's reflection, the horse-dealer, who was +beginning to feel bitter, got down from his horse, turned it over to a +groom, and said that he would speak to Squire Tronka himself on the +subject. He really did walk toward the castle; the castellan followed +him, muttering something about niggardly money-grubbers, and what a +good thing it was to bleed them; and, measuring each other with their +glances, the two entered the castle-hall. + +It happened that the Squire was sitting over his wine with some merry +friends, and a joke had caused them all to break into uproarious +laughter just as Kohlhaas approached him to make his complaint. The +Squire asked what he wanted; the young nobles, at sight of the +stranger, became silent; but no sooner had the latter broached his +request concerning the horses, than the whole group cried out, +"Horses! Where are they?" and hurried over to the window to look at +them. When they saw the glossy string, they all followed the +suggestion of the Squire and flew down into the courtyard. The rain +had ceased; the castellan, the steward, and the servant gathered round +them and all scanned the horses. One praised a bright bay with a +white star on its forehead, another preferred a chestnut, a third +patted the dappled horse with tawny spots; and all were of the opinion +that the horses were like deer, and that no finer were raised in the +country. Kohlhaas answered cheerily that the horses were no better +than the knights who were to ride them, and invited the men to buy. +The Squire, who eagerly desired the big bay stallion, went so far as +to ask its price, and the steward urged him to buy a pair of black +horses, which he thought he could use on the farm, as they were short +of horses. But when the horse-dealer had named his price the young +knights thought it too high, and the Squire said that Kohlhaas would +have to ride in search of the Round Table and King Arthur if he put +such a high value on his horses. Kohlhaas noticed that the castellan +and the steward were whispering together and casting significant +glances at the black horses the while, and, moved by a vague +presentiment, made every effort to sell them the horses. He said to +the Squire, "Sir, I bought those black horses six months ago for +twenty-five gold gulden; give me thirty and you shall have them." Two +of the young noblemen who were standing beside the Squire declared +quite audibly that the horses were probably worth that much; but the +Squire said that while he might be willing to pay out money for the +bay stallion he really should hardly care to do so for the pair of +blacks, and prepared to go in. Whereupon Kohlhaas, saying that the +next time he came that way with his horses they might perhaps strike a +bargain, took leave of the Squire and, seizing the reins of his horse, +started to ride away. + +At this moment the castellan stepped forth from the crowd and reminded +him that he would not be allowed to leave without a passport. Kohlhaas +turned around and inquired of the Squire whether this statement, which +meant the ruin of his whole trade, were indeed correct. The Squire, as +he went off, answered with an embarrassed air, "Yes, Kohlhaas, you +must get a passport. Speak to the castellan about it, and go your +way." Kohlhaas assured him that he had not the least intention of +evading the ordinances which might be in force concerning the +exportation of horses. He promised that when he went through Dresden +he would take out the passport at the chancery, and begged to be +allowed to go on, this time, as he had known nothing whatever about +this requirement. "Well!" said the Squire, as the storm at that moment +began to rage again and the wind blustered about his scrawny legs; +"let the wretch go. Come!" he added to the young knights, and, turning +around, started toward the door. The castellan, facing about toward +the Squire, said that Kohlhaas must at least leave behind some pledge +as security that he would obtain the passport. The Squire stopped +again under the castle gate. Kohlhaas asked how much security for the +black horses in money or in articles of value he would be expected to +leave. The steward muttered in his beard that he might just as well +leave the blacks themselves. + +"To be sure," said the castellan; "that is the best plan; as soon as +he has taken out the passport he can come and get them again at any +time." Kohlhaas, amazed at such a shameless demand, told the Squire, +who was holding the skirts of his doublet about him for warmth, that +what he wanted to do was to sell the blacks; but as a gust of wind +just then blew a torrent of rain and hail through the gate, the +Squire, in order to put an end to the matter, called out, "If he won't +give up the horses, throw him back again over the toll-bar;" and with +that he went off. + +The horse-dealer, who saw clearly that on this occasion he would have +to yield to superior force, made up his mind to comply with the +demand, since there really was no other way out of it. He unhitched +the black horses and led them into a stable which the castellan +pointed out to him. He left a groom in charge of them, provided him +with money, warned him to take good care of the horses until he came +back, and with the rest of the string continued his journey to +Leipzig, where he purposed to go to the fair. As he rode along he +wondered, in half uncertainty, whether after all such a law might not +have been passed in Saxony for the protection of the newly started +industry of horse-raising. + +On his arrival in Dresden, where, in one of the suburbs of the city, +he owned a house and stable--this being the headquarters from which he +usually conducted his business at the smaller fairs around the +country--he went immediately to the chancery. And here he learned from +the councilors, some of whom he knew, that indeed, as his first +instinct had already told him, the story of the passport was only made +up. At Kohlhaas's request, the annoyed councilors gave him a written +certificate of its baselessness, and the horse-dealer smiled at the +lean Squire's joke, although he did not quite see what purpose he +could have had in view. A few weeks later, having sold to his +satisfaction the string of horses he had with him, Kohlhaas returned +to Tronka Castle harboring no other resentment save that caused by the +general misery of the world. + +The castellan, to whom he showed the certificate, made no comment upon +it, and to the horse-dealer's question as to whether he could now have +his horses back, replied that he need only go down to the stable and +get them. But even while crossing the courtyard, Kohlhaas learned with +dismay that for alleged insolence his groom had been cudgeled and +dismissed in disgrace a few days after being left behind at Tronka +Castle. Of the boy who informed him of this he inquired what in the +world the groom had done, and who had taken care of the horses in the +mean time; to this the boy answered that he did not know, and then +opened to the horse-dealer, whose heart was already full of +misgivings, the door of the stable in which the horses stood. How +great, though, was his astonishment when, instead of his two glossy, +well-fed blacks, he spied a pair of lean, worn-out jades, with bones +on which one could have hung things as if on pegs, and with mane and +hair matted together from lack of care and attention--in short, the +very picture of utter misery in the animal kingdom! Kohlhaas, at the +sight of whom the horses neighed and moved feebly, was extremely +indignant, and asked what had happened to his horses. The boy, who was +standing beside him, answered that they had not suffered any harm, and +that they had had proper feed too, but, as it had been harvest time, +they had been used a bit in the fields because there weren't draught +animals enough. Kohlhaas cursed over the shameful, preconcerted +outrage; but realizing that he was powerless he suppressed his rage, +and, as no other course lay open to him, was preparing to leave this +den of thieves again with his horses when the castellan, attracted by +the altercation, appeared and asked what was the matter. + +"What's the matter?" echoed Kohlhaas. "Who gave Squire Tronka and his +people permission to use for work in the fields the black horses that +I left behind with him?" He added, "Do you call that humane?" and +trying to rouse the exhausted nags with a switch, he showed him that +they did not move. The castellan, after he had watched him for a while +with an expression of defiance, broke out, "Look at the ruffian! Ought +not the churl to thank God that the jades are still alive?" He asked +who would have been expected to take care of them when the groom had +run away, and whether it were not just that the horses should have +worked in the fields for their feed. He concluded by saying that +Kohlhaas had better not make a rumpus or he would call the dogs and +with them would manage to restore order in the courtyard. + +The horse-dealer's heart thumped against his doublet. He felt a strong +desire to throw the good-for-nothing, pot-bellied scoundrel into the +mud and set his foot on his copper-colored face. But his sense of +justice, which was as delicate as a gold-balance, still wavered; he +was not yet quite sure before the bar of his own conscience whether +his adversary were really guilty of a crime. And so, swallowing the +abusive words and going over to the horses, he silently pondered the +circumstances while arranging their manes, and asked in a subdued +voice for what fault the groom had been turned out of the castle. The +castellan replied, "Because the rascal was insolent in the courtyard; +because he opposed a necessary change of stables and demanded that the +horses of two young noblemen, who came to the castle, should, for the +sake of his nags, be left out on the open high-road over night." + +Kohlhaas would have given the value of the horses if he could have had +the groom at hand to compare his statement with that of this +thick-lipped castellan. He was still standing, straightening the +tangled manes of the black horses, and wondering what could be done in +the situation in which he found himself, when suddenly the scene +changed, and Squire Wenzel Tronka, returning from hare-hunting, dashed +into the courtyard, followed by a swarm of knights, grooms, and dogs. +The castellan, when asked what had happened, immediately began to +speak, and while, on the one hand, the dogs set up a murderous howl at +the sight of the stranger, and, on the other, the knights sought to +quiet them, he gave the Squire a maliciously garbled account of the +turmoil the horse-dealer was making because his black horses had been +used a little. He said, with a scornful laugh, that the horse-dealer +refused to recognize the horses as his own. + +Kohlhaas cried, "Your worship, those are not my horses. Those are not +the horses which were worth thirty gold gulden! I want my well-fed, +sound horses back again!" + +The Squire, whose face grew momentarily pale, got down from his horse +and said, "If the d----d scoundrel doesn't want to take the horses +back, let him leave them here. Come, Gunther!" he called; "Hans, +come!" He brushed the dust off his breeches with his hand and, just as +he reached the door with the young knights, called "Bring wine!" and +strode into the house. + +Kohlhaas said that he would rather call the knacker and have his +horses thrown into the carrion pit than lead them back, in that +condition, to his stable at Kohlhaasenbrueck. Without bothering himself +further about the nags, he left them standing where they were, and, +declaring that he should know how to get his rights, mounted his bay +horse and rode away. + +He was already galloping at full speed on the road to Dresden when, at +the thought of the groom and of the complaint which had been made +against him at the castle, he slowed down to a walk, and, before he +had gone a thousand paces farther, turned his horse around again and +took the road toward Kohlhaasenbrueck, in order, as seemed to him wise +and just, to hear first what the groom had to say. For in spite of the +injuries he had suffered, a correct instinct, already familiar with +the imperfect organization of the world, inclined him to put up with +the loss of the horses and to regard it as a just consequence of the +groom's misconduct in case there really could be imputed to the latter +any such fault as the castellan charged. On the other hand, an equally +admirable feeling took deeper and deeper root the farther he rode, +hearing at every stop of the outrages perpetrated daily upon travelers +at Tronka Castle; this instinct told him that if, as seemed probable, +the whole incident proved to be a preconcerted plot, it was his duty +to the world to make every effort to obtain for himself satisfaction +for the injury suffered, and for his fellow-countrymen a guarantee +against similar injuries in the future. + +On his arrival at Kohlhaasenbrueck, as soon as he had embraced his +faithful wife Lisbeth and had kissed his children, who were shouting +joyfully about his knees, he asked at once after Herse, the head +groom, and whether anything had been heard from him. Lisbeth answered, +"Oh yes, dearest Michael--that Herse! Just think! The poor fellow +arrived here about a fortnight ago, most pitifully bruised and beaten; +really, he was so battered that he couldn't even breathe freely. We +put him to bed, where he kept coughing up blood, and after repeated +questions we heard a story that no one could understand. He told us +that you had left him at Tronka Castle in charge of some horses which +they would not allow to pass through there, that by the most shameful +maltreatment he had been forced to leave the castle, and that it had +been impossible for him to bring the horses with him." + +"Really!" exclaimed Kohlhaas, taking off his cloak. "I suppose he has +recovered before this?" + +"Pretty well, except that he still coughs blood," she answered. "I +wanted to send another groom at once to Tronka Castle so as to have +the horses taken care of until you got back there; for as Herse has +always shown himself truthful and, indeed, more faithful to us than +any other has ever been, I felt I had no right to doubt his statement, +especially when confirmed by so many bruises, or to think that perhaps +he had lost the horses in some other way. He implored me, however, not +to require any one to go to that robber's nest, but to give the +animals up if I didn't wish to sacrifice a man's life for them." + +"And is he still abed?" asked Kohlhaas, taking off his neckcloth. + +"He's been going about in the yard again for several days now," she +answered. "In short, you will see for yourself," she continued, "that +it's all quite true and that this incident is merely another one of +those outrages that have been committed of late against strangers at +Tronka Castle." + +"I must first investigate that," answered Kohlhaas. "Call him in here, +Lisbeth, if he is up and about." With these words he sat down in the +arm-chair and his wife, delighted at his calmness, went and fetched +the groom. + +"What did you do at Tronka Castle," asked Kohlhaas, as Lisbeth entered +the room with him. "I am not very well pleased with you." + +On the groom's pale face spots of red appeared at these words. He was +silent for a while--then he answered, "You are right there, Sir; for a +sulphur cord, which by the will of Providence I was carrying in my +pocket so as to set fire to the robber's nest from which I had been +driven, I threw into the Elbe when I heard a child crying inside the +castle, and I thought to myself, 'Let God's lightning burn it down; I +will not!'" + +Kohlhaas was disconcerted. "But for what cause were you driven from +the castle?" he asked. + +To this Herse answered, "Something very wrong, Sir," and wiped the +perspiration from his forehead. "What is done, however, can't be +undone. I wouldn't let the horses be worked to death in the fields, +and so I said that they were still young and had never been in +harness." + +Kohlhaas, trying to hide his perplexity, answered that he had not told +the exact truth, as the horses had been in harness for a little while +in the early part of the previous spring. "As you were a sort of guest +at the castle," he continued, "you really might have been obliging +once or twice whenever they happened not to have horses enough to get +the crops in as fast as they wished." + +"I did so, Sir," said Herse. "I thought, as long as they looked so +sulky about it, that it wouldn't hurt the blacks for once, and so on +the third afternoon I hitched them in front of the others and brought +in three wagon-loads of grain from the fields." + +Kohlhaas, whose heart was thumping, looked down at the ground and +said, "They told me nothing about that, Herse!" + +Herse assured him that it was so. "I wasn't disobliging save in my +refusal to harness up the horses again when they had hardly eaten +their fill at midday; then too, when the castellan and the steward +offered to give me free fodder if I would do it, telling me to pocket +the money that you had left with me to pay for feed, I answered that I +would do something they didn't bargain for, turned around, and left +them!" + +"But surely it was not for that disobliging act that you were driven +away from the castle," said Kohlhaas. + +"Mercy, no!" cried the groom. "It was because of a very wicked crime! +For the horses of two knights who came to the castle were put into +the stable for the night and mine were tied to the stable door. And +when I took the blacks from the castellan, who was putting the +knights' horses into my stable, and asked where my animals were to go, +he showed me a pigsty built of laths and boards against the castle +wall." + +"You mean," interrupted Kohlhaas, "that it was such a poor shelter for +horses that it was more like a pigsty than a stable?" + +"It was a pigsty, Sir," answered Herse; "really and truly a pigsty, +with the pigs running in and out; I couldn't stand upright in it." + +"Perhaps there was no other shelter to be found for the blacks," +Kohlhaas rejoined; "and of course, in a way, the knights' horses had +the right to better quarters." + +"There wasn't much room," answered the groom, dropping his voice. +"Counting these two, there were, in all, seven knights lodging at the +castle. If it had been you, you would have had the horses moved closer +together. I said I would try to rent a stable in the village, but the +castellan objected that he had to keep the horses under his own eyes +and told me not to dare to take them away from the courtyard." + +"Hum!" said Kohlhaas. "What did you say to that?" + +"As the steward said the two guests were only going to spend the night +and continue on their way the next morning, I led the two horses into +the pigsty. But the following day passed and they did not go, and on +the third it was said the gentlemen were going to stay some weeks +longer at the castle." + +"After all, it was not so bad, Herse, in the pigsty, as it seemed to +you when you first stuck your nose into it," said Kohlhaas. + +"That's true," answered the groom. "After I had swept the place out a +little, it wasn't so bad! I gave a groschen to the maid to have her +put the pigs somewhere else; and by taking the boards from the +roof-bars at dawn and laying them on again at night, I managed to +arrange it so that the horses could stand upright in the daytime. So +there they stood like geese in a coop, and stuck their heads through +the roof, looking around for Kohlhaasenbrueck or some other place where +they would be better off." + +"Well then," said Kohlhaas, "why in the world did they drive you +away?" + +"Sir, I'll tell you," answered the groom, "it was because they wanted +to get rid of me, since, as long as I was there, they could not work +the horses to death. Everywhere, in the yard, in the servants' hall, +they made faces at me, and because I thought to myself, 'You can draw +your jaws down until you dislocate them, for all I care,' they picked +a quarrel and threw me out of the courtyard." + +"But what provoked them?" cried Kohlhaas; "they must have had some +sort of provocation!" + +"Oh, to be sure," answered Herse; "the best imaginable! On the evening +of the second day spent in the pigsty, I took the horses, which had +become dirty in spite of my efforts, and started to ride them down to +the horse-pond. When I reached the castle-gate and was just about to +turn, I heard the castellan and the steward, with servants, dogs and +cudgels, rushing out of the servants' hall after me and calling, 'Stop +thief! Stop gallows-bird!' as if they were possessed. The gate-keeper +stepped in front of me, and when I asked him and the raving crowd that +was running at me, 'What in the world is the matter?'--'What's the +matter!' answered the castellan, seizing my two black horses by the +bridle. 'Where are you going with the horses?' he asked, and seized me +by the chest. 'Where am I going?' I repeated. 'Thunder and lightning! +I am riding down to the horse-pond. Do you think that I--?'--'To the +horse-pond!' cried the castellan. 'I'll teach you, you swindler, to +swim along the highroad back to Kohlhaasenbrueck!' And with a spiteful, +vicious jerk he and the steward, who had caught me by the leg, hurled +me down from the horse so that I measured my full length in the mud. +'Murder! Help!' I cried; 'breast straps and blankets and a bundle of +linen belonging to me are in the stable.' But while the steward led +the horses away, the castellan and servants fell upon me with their +feet and whips and cudgels, so that I sank down behind the castle-gate +half dead. And when I cried, 'The thieves! Where are they taking my +horses?' and got to my feet--'Out of the courtyard with you!' screamed +the castellan, 'Sick him, Caesar! Sick him, Hunter!' and, 'Sick him, +Spitz!' he called, and a pack of more than twelve dogs rushed at me. +Then I tore something from the fence, possibly a picket, and stretched +out three dogs dead beside me! But when I had to give way because I +was suffering from fearful wounds and bites, I heard a shrill whistle; +the dogs scurried into the yard, the gates were swung shut and the +bolt shot into position, and I sank down on the highroad unconscious." + +Kohlhaas, white in the face, said with forced jocularity, "Didn't you +really want to escape, Herse?" And as the latter, with a deep blush, +looked down at the ground--"Confess to me!" said he; "You didn't like +it in the pigsty; you thought to yourself, you would rather be in the +stable at Kohlhaasenbrueck, after all!" + +"Od's thunder!" cried Herse; "breast strap and blankets I tell you, +and a bundle of linen I left behind in the pigsty. Wouldn't I have +taken along three gold gulden that I had wrapped in a red silk +neckcloth and hidden away behind the manger? Blazes, hell, and the +devil! When you talk like that, I'd like to relight at once the +sulphur cord I threw away!" + +"There, there!" said the horse-dealer, "I really meant no harm. What +you have said--see here, I believe it word for word, and when the +matter comes up, I am ready to take the Holy Communion myself as to +its truth. I am sorry that you have not fared better in my service. +Go, Herse, go back to bed. Have them bring you a bottle of wine and +make yourself comfortable; you shall have justice done you!" With +that he stood up, made out a list of the things which the head groom +had left behind in the pigsty, jotted down the value of each, asked +him how high he estimated the cost of his medical treatment, and sent +him from the room after shaking hands with him once more. + +Thereupon he recounted to Lisbeth, his wife, the whole course of the +affair, explained the true relation of events, and declared to her +that he was determined to demand public justice for himself. He had +the satisfaction of finding that she heartily approved his purpose, +for, she said, many other travelers, perhaps less patient than he, +would pass by the castle, and it was doing God's work to put a stop to +disorders such as these. She added that she would manage to get +together the money to pay the expenses of the lawsuit. Kohlhaas called +her his brave wife, spent that day and the next very happily with her +and the children, and, as soon as his business would at all permit it, +set out for Dresden in order to lay his suit before the court. + +Here, with the help of a lawyer whom he knew, he drew up a complaint, +in which, after giving a detailed account of the outrage which Squire +Wenzel Tronka had committed against him and against his groom Herse, +he petitioned for the lawful punishment of the former, restoration of +the horses to their original condition, and compensation for the +damages which he and his groom had sustained. His case was indeed +perfectly clear. The fact that the horses had been detained contrary +to law threw a decisive light on everything else; and even had one +been willing to assume that they had sickened by sheer accident, the +demand of the horse-dealer to have them returned to him in sound +condition would still have been just. While looking about him in the +capital, Kohlhaas had no lack of friends, either, who promised to give +his case lively support. His extensive trade in horses had secured him +the acquaintance of the most important men of the country, and the +honesty with which he conducted his business had won him their good +will. + +Kohlhaas dined cheerfully several times with his lawyer, who was +himself a man of consequence, left a sum of money with him to defray +the costs of the lawsuit and, fully reassured by the latter as to the +outcome of the case, returned, after the lapse of some weeks, to his +wife Lisbeth in Kohlhaasenbrueck. + +Nevertheless months passed, and the year was nearing its close before +he received even a statement from Saxony concerning the suit which he +had instituted there, let alone the final decree itself. After he had +applied several times more to the court, he sent a confidential letter +to his lawyer asking what was the cause of such undue delay. He was +told in reply that the suit had been dismissed in the Dresden courts +at the instance of an influential person. To the astonished reply of +the horse-dealer asking what was the reason of this, the lawyer +informed him that Squire Wenzel Tronka was related to two young +noblemen, Hinz and Kunz Tronka, one of whom was Cup-bearer to the +person of the sovereign, and the other actually Chamberlain. He also +advised Kohlhaas not to make any further appeal to the court of law, +but to try to regain possession of his horses which were still at +Tronka Castle, giving him to understand that the Squire, who was then +stopping in the capital, seemed to have ordered his people to deliver +them to him. He closed with a request to excuse him from executing any +further commissions in the matter, in case Kohlhaas refused to be +content with this. + +At this time Kohlhaas happened to be in Brandenburg, where the City +Governor, Heinrich von Geusau, to whose jurisdiction Kohlhaasenbrueck +belonged, was busy establishing several charitable institutions for +the sick and the poor out of a considerable fund which had fallen to +the city. He was especially interested in fitting up, for the benefit +of invalids, a mineral spring which rose in one of the villages in the +vicinity, and which was thought to have greater powers than it +subsequently proved to possess. As Kohlhaas had had numerous dealings +with him at the time of his sojourn at Court and was therefore known +to him, he allowed Herse, the head groom, who, ever since that unlucky +day in Tronka Castle, had suffered pains in the chest when he +breathed, to try the effect of the little healing spring, which had +been inclosed and roofed over. + +It so happened that the City Governor was just giving some directions, +as he stood beside the depression in which Kohlhaas had placed Herse, +when a messenger, whom the horse-dealer's wife had sent on after him, +put in his hands the disheartening letter from his lawyer in Dresden. +The City Governor, who, while speaking with the doctor, noticed that +Kohlhaas let a tear fall on the letter he had just read, approached +him and, in a friendly, cordial way, asked him what misfortune had +befallen him. The horse-dealer handed him the letter without +answering. The worthy Governor, knowing the abominable injustice done +him at Tronka Castle as a result of which Herse was lying there before +him sick, perhaps never to recover, clapped Kohlhaas on the shoulder +and told him not to lose courage, for he would help him secure +justice. In the evening, when the horse-dealer, acting upon his +orders, came to the palace to see him, Kohlhaas was told that what he +should do was to draw up a petition to the Elector of Brandenburg, +with a short account of the incident, to inclose the lawyer's letter, +and, on account of the violence which had been committed against him +on Saxon territory, solicit the protection of the sovereign. He +promised him to see that the petition would be delivered into the +hands of the Elector together with another packet that was all ready +to be dispatched; if circumstances permitted, the latter would, +without fail, approach the Elector of Saxony on his behalf. Such a +step would be quite sufficient to secure Kohlhaas justice at the hand +of the tribunal at Dresden, in spite of the arts of the Squire and his +partisans. Kohlhaas, much delighted, thanked the Governor very +heartily for this new proof of his good will, and said he was only +sorry that he had not instituted proceedings at once in Berlin without +taking any steps in the matter at Dresden. After he had made out the +complaint in due form at the office of the municipal court and +delivered it to the Governor, he returned to Kohlhaasenbrueck, more +encouraged than ever about the outcome of his affair. + +After only a few weeks, however, he was grieved to learn from a +magistrate who had gone to Potsdam on business for the City Governor, +that the Elector had handed the petition over to his Chancellor, Count +Kallheim, and that the latter, instead of taking the course most +likely to produce results and petitioning the Court at Dresden +directly for investigation and punishment of the outrage, had, as a +preliminary, applied to the Squire Tronka for further information. + +The magistrate, who had stopped in his carriage outside of Kohlhaas' +house and seemed to have been instructed to deliver this message to +the horse-dealer, could give the latter no satisfactory answer to his +perplexed question as to why this step had been taken. He was +apparently in a hurry to continue his journey, and merely added that +the Governor sent Kohhlhaas word to be patient. Not until the very end +of the short interview did the horse-dealer divine from some casual +words he let fall, that Count Kallheim was related by marriage to the +house of Tronka. + +Kohlhaas, who no longer took any pleasure either in his +horse-breeding, or his house or his farm, scarcely even in his wife +and children, waited all the next month, full of gloomy forebodings as +to the future. And, just as he had expected at the expiration of this +time, Herse, somewhat benefited by the baths, came back from +Brandenburg bringing a rather lengthy decree and a letter from the +City Governor. The latter ran as follows: He was sorry that he could +do nothing in Kohlhaas' behalf; he was sending him a decision from the +Chancery of State and he advised him to fetch away the horses that he +had left behind at the Tronka Castle, and then to let the matter drop. + +The decree read as follows: "According to the report of the tribunal +at Dresden, he was a good-for-nothing, quarrelsome person; the Squire +with whom he had left the horses was not keeping them from him in any +way; let him send to the castle and take them away, or at least inform +the Squire where to send them to him; in any case he should not +trouble the Chancery of the State with such petty quarrels and +mischief-making." + +Kohlhaas, who was not concerned about the horses themselves--he would +have felt just as much pain if it had been a question of a couple of +dogs--Kohlhaas foamed with rage when he received this letter. As often +as he heard a noise in the courtyard he looked toward the gateway with +the most revolting feelings of anticipation that had ever agitated his +breast, to see whether the servants of the Squire had come to restore +to him, perhaps even with an apology, the starved and worn-out horses. +This was the only situation which he felt that his soul, well +disciplined though it had been by the world, was not prepared to meet. + +A short time after, however, he heard from an acquaintance who had +traveled that road, that at Tronka Castle his horses were still being +used for work in the fields exactly like the Squire's other horses. +Through the midst of the pain caused by beholding the world in a state +of such monstrous disorder, shot the inward satisfaction of knowing +that from henceforth he would be at peace with himself. + +He invited a bailiff, who was his neighbor, to come to see him. The +latter had long cherished the idea of enlarging his estate by +purchasing the property which adjoined it. When he had seated himself +Kohlhaas asked him how much he would give for his possessions on +Brandenburg and Saxon territory, for house and farm, in a lump, +immovable or not. + +Lisbeth, his wife, grew pale when she heard his words. She turned +around and picked up her youngest child who was playing on the floor +behind her. While the child pulled at her kerchief, she darted glances +of mortal terror past the little one's red cheeks, at the +horse-dealer, and at a paper which he held in his hand. + +The bailiff stared at his neighbor in astonishment and asked him what +had suddenly given him such strange ideas; to which the horse-dealer, +with as much gaiety as he could muster, replied that the idea of +selling his farm on the banks of the Havel was not an entirely new +one, but that they had often before discussed the subject together. As +for his house in the outskirts of Dresden--in comparison with the farm +it was only a tag end and need not be taken into consideration. In +short, if the bailiff would do as he wished and take over both pieces +of property, he was ready to close the contract with him. He added +with rather forced pleasantry that Kohlhaasenbrueck was not the world; +that there might be objects in life compared with which that of taking +care of his home and family as a father is supposed to would be a +secondary and unworthy one. In a word, he must tell him that his soul +was intent upon accomplishing great things, of which, perhaps, he +would hear shortly. The bailiff, reassured by these words, said +jokingly to Kohlhaas' wife, who was kissing her child repeatedly, +"Surely he will not insist upon being paid immediately!" Then he laid +his hat and cane, which he had been holding between his knees, on the +table, and taking the paper, which the horse-dealer was holding in his +hand, began to read. Kohlhaas, moving closer to him, explained that it +was a contingent contract to purchase, drawn up by himself, his right +to cancel the contract expiring in four weeks. He showed the bailiff +that nothing was wanting but the signatures, the insertion of the +purchase-price itself, and the amount of the forfeit that he, +Kohlhaas, would agree to pay in case he should withdraw from the +contract within the four weeks' time. Again Kohlhaas gaily urged his +friend to make an offer, assuring him that he would be reasonable and +would make the conditions easy for him. His wife was walking up and +down the room; she breathed so hard that the kerchief, at which the +boy had been pulling, threatened to fall clear off her shoulder. The +bailiff said that he really had no way of judging the value of the +property in Dresden; whereupon Kohlhaas, shoving toward him some +letters which had been exchanged at the time of its purchase, answered +that he estimated it at one hundred gold gulden, although the letters +would show that it had cost him almost half as much again. The bailiff +who, on reading the deed of sale, found that, strangely enough, he too +was guaranteed the privilege of withdrawing from the bargain, had +already half made up his mind; but he said that, of course, he could +make no use of the stud-horses which were in the stables. When +Kohlhaas replied that he wasn't at all inclined to part with the +horses either, and that he also desired to keep for himself some +weapons which were hanging in the armory, the bailiff still continued +to hesitate for some time. At last he repeated an offer that, once +before, when they were out walking together, he had made him, half in +jest and half in earnest--a trifling offer indeed, in comparison with +the value of the property. Kohlhaas pushed the pen and ink over for +him to sign, and when the bailiff, who could not believe his senses, +again inquired if he were really in earnest, and the horse-dealer +asked, a little sensitively, whether he thought that he was only +jesting with him, then took up the pen, though with a very serious +face, and wrote. However, he crossed out the clause concerning the sum +to be forfeited in case the seller should repent of the transaction, +bound himself to a loan of one hundred gold gulden on a mortgage on +the Dresden property, which he absolutely refused to buy outright, and +allowed Kohlhaas full liberty to withdraw from the transaction at any +time within two months. + +The horse-dealer, touched by this conduct, shook his hand with great +cordiality, and after they had furthermore agreed on the principal +conditions, to the effect that a fourth part of the purchase-price +should without fail be paid immediately in cash, and the balance paid +into the Hamburg bank in three months' time, Kohlhaas called for wine +in order to celebrate such a happy conclusion of the bargain. He told +the maid-servant who entered with the bottles, to order Sternbald, +the groom, to saddle the chestnut horse for him, as he had to ride to +the capital, where he had some business to attend to. He gave them to +understand that, in a short time, when he returned, he would talk more +frankly concerning what he must for the present continue to keep to +himself. As he poured out the wine into the glasses, he asked about +the Poles and the Turks who were just then at war, and involved the +bailiff in many political conjectures on the subject; then, after +finally drinking once more to the success of their business, he +allowed the latter to depart. + +When the bailiff had left the room, Lisbeth fell down on her knees +before her husband. "If you have any affection for me," she cried, +"and for the children whom I have borne you; if you have not already, +for what reason I know not, cast us out from your heart, then tell me +what these horrible preparations mean!" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Dearest wife, they mean nothing which need cause +you any alarm, as matters stand at present. I have received a decree +in which I am told that my complaint against the Squire Wenzel Tronka +is a piece of impertinent mischief-making. As there must exist some +misunderstanding in this matter, I have made up my mind to present my +complaint once more, this time in person, to the sovereign himself." + +"But why will you sell your house?" she cried, rising with a look of +despair. + +The horse-dealer, clasping her tenderly to his breast, answered, +"Because, dear Lisbeth, I do not care to remain in a country where +they will not protect me in my rights. If I am to be kicked I would +rather be a dog than a man! I am sure that my wife thinks about this +just as I do." + +"How do you know," she asked wildly, "that they will not protect you +in your rights? If, as is becoming, you approach the Elector humbly +with your petition, how do you know that it will be thrown aside or +answered by a refusal to listen to you?" + +"Very well!" answered Kohlhaas; "if my fears on the subject are +unfounded, my house isn't sold yet, either. The Elector himself is +just, I know, and if I can only succeed in getting past those who +surround him and in reaching his person, I do not doubt that I shall +secure justice, and that, before the week is out, I shall return +joyfully home again to you and my old trade. In that case I would +gladly stay with you," he added, kissing her, "until the end of my +life! But it is advisable," he continued, "to be prepared for any +emergency, and for that reason I should like you, if it is possible, +to go away for a while with the children to your aunt in Schwerin, +whom, moreover, you have, for some time, been intending to visit!" + +"What!" cried the housewife; "I am to go to Schwerin--to go across the +frontier with the children to my aunt in Schwerin?" Terror choked her +words. + +"Certainly," answered Kohlhaas, "and, if possible, right away, so that +I may not be hindered by any family considerations in the steps I +intend to take in my suit." + +"Oh, I understand you!" she cried. "You now need nothing but weapons +and horses; whoever will may take everything else!" With this she +turned away and, in tears, flung herself down on a chair. + +Kohlhaas exclaimed in alarm, "Dearest Lisbeth, what are you doing? God +has blessed me with wife and children and worldly goods; am I today +for the first time to wish that it were otherwise?" He sat down gently +beside his wife, who at these words had flushed up and fallen on his +neck. "Tell me!" said he, smoothing the curls away from her forehead. +"What shall I do? Shall I give up my case? Do you wish me to go to +Tronka Castle, beg the knight to restore the horses to me, mount and +ride them back home?" + +Lisbeth did not dare to cry out, "Yes, yes, yes!" She shook her head, +weeping, and, clasping him close, kissed him passionately. + +"Well, then," cried Kohlhaas, "if you feel that, in case I am to +continue my trade, justice must be done me, do not deny me the liberty +which I must have in order to procure it!" + +With that he stood up and said to the groom who had come to tell him +that the chestnut horse was saddled, "To-morrow the bay horses must +be harnessed up to take my wife to Schwerin." Lisbeth said that she +had an idea! She rose, wiped the tears from her eyes, and, going over +to the desk where he had seated himself, asked him if he would give +her the petition and let her go to Berlin in his stead and hand it to +the Elector. For more reasons than one Kohlhaas was deeply moved by +this change of attitude. He drew her down on his lap, and said, +"Dearest wife, that is hardly practicable. The sovereign is surrounded +by a great many people; whoever wishes to approach him is exposed to +many annoyances." + +Lisbeth rejoined that, in a thousand cases, it was easier for a woman +to approach him than it was for a man. "Give me the petition," she +repeated, "and if all that you wish is the assurance that it shall +reach his hands, I vouch for it; he shall receive it!" + +Kohlhaas, who had had many proofs of her courage as well as of her +wisdom, asked her how she intended to go about it. To this she +answered, looking shamefacedly at the ground, that the castellan of +the Elector's palace had paid court to her in former days, when he had +been in service in Schwerin; that, to be sure, he was married now and +had several children, but that she was not yet entirely forgotten, +and, in short, her husband should leave it to her to take advantage of +this circumstance as well as of many others which it would require too +much time to enumerate. Kohlhaas kissed her joyfully, said that he +accepted her proposal, and informed her that for her to lodge with the +wife of the castellan would be all that was necessary to enable her to +approach the sovereign inside the palace itself. Then he gave her the +petition, had the bay horses harnessed, and sent her off, well bundled +up, accompanied by Sternbald, his faithful groom. + +Of all the unsuccessful steps, however, which he had taken in regard +to his suit, this journey was the most unfortunate. For only a few +days later Sternbald entered the courtyard again, leading the horses +at a walk before the wagon, in which lay his wife, stretched out, with +a dangerous contusion of the chest. Kohlhaas, who approached the wagon +with a white face, could learn nothing coherent concerning the cause +of the accident. The castellan, the groom said, had not been at home; +they had therefore been obliged to put up at an inn that stood near +the palace. Lisbeth had left this inn on the following morning, +ordering the servant to stay behind with the horses; not until evening +had she returned, and then only in this condition. It seemed she had +pressed forward too boldly toward the person of the sovereign, and +without any fault of his, but merely through the rough zeal of a +body-guard which surrounded him, she had received a blow on the chest +with the shaft of a lance. At least this was what the people said who, +toward evening, had brought her back unconscious to the inn; for she +herself could talk but little for the blood which flowed from her +mouth. The petition had been taken from her afterward by a knight. +Sternbald said that it had been his wish to jump on a horse at once +and bring the news of the unfortunate accident to his master, but, in +spite of the remonstrances of the surgeon who had been called in, she +had insisted on being taken back to her husband at Kohlhaasenbrueck +without previously sending him word. She was completely exhausted by +the journey and Kohlhaas put her to bed, where she lived a few days +longer, struggling painfully to draw breath. + +They tried in vain to restore her to consciousness in order to learn +the particulars of what had occurred; she lay with fixed, already +glassy eyes, and gave no answer. + +Once only, shortly before her death, did she recover consciousness. A +minister of the Lutheran church (which religion, then in its infancy, +she had embraced, following the example of her husband) was standing +beside her bed, reading in a loud solemn voice, full of emotion, a +chapter of the Bible, when she suddenly looked up at him with a stern +expression, and, taking the Bible out of his hand, as though there +were no need to read to her from it, turned over the leaves for some +time and seemed to be searching for some special passage. At last, +with her fore-finger she pointed out to Kohlhaas, who was sitting +beside her bed, the verse: "Forgive your enemies; do good to them that +hate you." As she did so she pressed his hand with a look full of deep +and tender feeling, and passed away. + +Kohlhaas thought, "May God never forgive me the way I forgive the +Squire!" Then he kissed her amid freely flowing tears, closed her +eyes, and left the chamber. + +He took the hundred gold gulden which the bailiff had already sent him +for the stables in Dresden, and ordered a funeral ceremony that seemed +more suitable for a princess than for her--an oaken coffin heavily +trimmed with metal, cushions of silk with gold and silver tassels, and +a grave eight yards deep lined with stones and mortar. He himself +stood beside the vault with his youngest child in his arms and watched +the work. On the day of the funeral the corpse, white as snow, was +placed in a room which he had had draped with black cloth. + +The minister had just completed a touching address by the side of the +bier when the sovereign's answer to the petition which the dead woman +had presented was delivered to Kohlhaas. By this decree he was ordered +to fetch the horses from Tronka Castle and, under pain of +imprisonment, not to bring any further action in the matter. Kohlhaas +put the letter in his pocket and had the coffin carried out to the +hearse. + +As soon as the mound had been raised, the cross planted on it, and the +guests who had been present at the interment had taken their +departure, Kohlhaas flung himself down once more before his wife's +empty bed, and then set about the business of revenge. + +He sat down and made out a decree in which, by virtue of his own +innate authority, he condemned the Squire Wenzel Tronka within the +space of three days after sight to lead back to Kohlhaasenbrueck the +two black horses which he had taken from him and over-worked in the +fields, and with his own hands to feed the horses in Kohlhaas' stables +until they were fat again. This decree he sent off to the Squire by a +mounted messenger, and instructed the latter to return to +Kohlhaasenbrueck as soon as he had delivered the document. + +As the three days went by without the horses being returned, Kohlhaas +called Herse and informed him of what he had ordered the Squire to do +in regard to fattening them. Then he asked Herse two questions: first, +whether he would ride with him to Tronka Castle and fetch the Squire; +and, secondly, whether Herse would be willing to apply the whip to the +young gentleman after he had been brought to the stables at +Kohlhaasenbrueck, in case he should be remiss in carrying out the +conditions of the decree. As soon as Herse understood what was meant +he shouted joyfully--"Sir, this very day!" and, throwing his hat into +the air, he cried that he was going to have a thong with ten knots +plaited in order to teach the Squire how to curry-comb. After this +Kohlhaas sold the house, packed the children into a wagon, and sent +them over the border. When darkness fell he called the other servants +together, seven in number, and every one of them true as gold to him, +armed them and provided them with mounts and set out for the Tronka +Castle. + +At night-fall of the third day, with this little troop he rode down +the toll-gatherer and the gate-keeper who were standing in +conversation in the arched gateway, and attacked the castle. They set +fire to all the outbuildings in the castle inclosure, and, while, amid +the outburst of the flames, Herse hurried up the winding staircase +into the tower of the castellan's quarters, and with blows and stabs +fell upon the castellan and the steward who were sitting, half +dressed, over the cards, Kohlhaas at the same time dashed into the +castle in search of the Squire Wenzel. Thus it is that the angel of +judgment descends from heaven; the Squire, who, to the accompaniment +of immoderate laughter, was just reading aloud to a crowd of young +friends the decree which the horse-dealer had sent to him, had no +sooner heard the sound of his voice in the courtyard than, turning +suddenly pale as death, he cried out to the gentlemen--"Brothers, save +yourselves!" and disappeared. As Kohlhaas entered the room he seized +by the shoulders a certain Squire, Hans Tronka, who came at him, and +flung him into the corner of the room with such force that his brains +spurted out over the stone floor. While the other knights, who had +drawn their weapons, were being overpowered and scattered by the +grooms, Kohlhaas asked where the Squire Wenzel Tronka was. Realizing +the ignorance of the stunned men, he kicked open the doors of two +apartments leading into the wings of the castle and, after searching +in every direction throughout the rambling building and finding no +one, he went down, cursing, into the castle yard, in order to place +guards at the exits. + +In the meantime, from the castle and the wings, which had caught fire +from the out-buildings, thick columns of smoke were rising heavenward. +While Sternbald and three busy grooms were gathering together +everything in the castle that was not fastened securely and throwing +it down among the horses as fair spoils, from the open windows of the +castellan's quarters the corpses of the castellan and the steward, +with their wives and children, were flung down into the courtyard amid +the joyful shouts of Herse. As Kohlhaas descended the steps of the +castle, the gouty old housekeeper who managed the Squire's +establishment threw herself at his feet. Pausing on the step, he asked +her where the Squire Wenzel Tronka was. She answered in a faint +trembling voice that she thought he had taken refuge in the chapel. +Kohlhaas then called two men with torches, and, since they had no +keys, he had the door broken open with crowbars and axes. He knocked +over altars and pews; nevertheless, to his anger and grief, he did +not find the Squire. + +It happened that, at the moment when Kohlhaas came out of the chapel, +a young servant, one of the retainers of the castle, came hurrying +upon his way to get the Squire's chargers out of a large stone stable +which was threatened by the flames. Kohlhaas, who at that very moment +spied his two blacks in a little shed roofed with straw, asked the man +why he did not rescue the two blacks. The latter, sticking the key in +the stable-door, answered that he surely must see that the shed was +already in flames. Kohlhaas tore the key violently from the +stable-door, threw it over the wall, and, raining blows as thick as +hail on the man with the flat of his sword, drove him into the burning +shed and, amid the horrible laughter of the bystanders, forced him to +rescue the black horses. Nevertheless, when the man, pale with fright, +reappeared with the horses, only a few moments before the shed fell in +behind him, he no longer found Kohlhaas. Betaking himself to the men +gathered in the castle inclosure, he asked the horse-dealer, who +several times turned his back on him, what he was to do with the +animals now. + +Kohlhaas suddenly raised his foot with such terrible force that the +kick, had it landed, would have meant death; then, without answering, +he mounted his bay horse, stationed himself under the gateway of the +castle, and, while his men continued their work of destruction, +silently awaited the break of day. + +When the morning dawned the entire castle had burned down and only the +walls remained standing; no one was left in it but Kohlhaas and his +seven men. He dismounted from his horse and, in the bright sunlight +which illuminated every crack and corner, once more searched the +inclosure. When he had to admit, hard though it was for him to do so, +that the expedition against the castle had failed, with a heart full +of pain and grief he sent Herse and some of the other men to gather +news of the direction in which the Squire had fled. He felt +especially troubled about a rich nunnery for ladies of rank, Erlabrunn +by name, which was situated on the shores of the Mulde, and whose +abbess, Antonia Tronka, was celebrated in the neighborhood as a pious, +charitable, and saintly woman. The unhappy Kohlhaas thought it only +too probable that the Squire, stripped as he was of all necessities, +had taken refuge in this nunnery, since the abbess was his own aunt +and had been his governess in his early childhood. After informing +himself of these particulars, Kohlhaas ascended the tower of the +castellan's quarters in the interior of which there was still a +habitable room, and there he drew up a so-called "Kohlhaas mandate" in +which he warned the country not to offer assistance to Squire Wenzel +Tronka, against whom he was waging just warfare, and, furthermore, +commanded every inhabitant, instead, relatives and friends not +excepted, to surrender him under penalty of death and the inevitable +burning down of everything that might be called property. + +This declaration he scattered broadcast in the surrounding country +through travelers and strangers; he even went so far as to give +Waldmann, his servant, a copy of it, with definite instructions to +carry it to Erlabrunn and place it in the hands of Lady Antonia. +Thereupon he had a talk with some of the servants of Tronka Castle who +were dissatisfied with the Squire and, attracted by the prospect of +plunder, wished to enter the horse-dealer's service. He armed them +after the manner of foot-soldiers, with cross-bows and daggers, taught +them how to mount behind the men on horseback, and after he had turned +into money everything that the company had collected and had +distributed it among them, he spent some hours in the gateway of the +castle, resting after his sorry labor. + +Toward midday Herse came and confirmed what Kohlhaas' heart, which was +always filled with the most gloomy forebodings, had already told +him--namely, that the Squire was then in the nunnery of Erlabrunn with +the old Lady Antonia Tronka, his aunt. It seemed that, through a door +in the rear wall behind the castle, leading into the open air, he had +escaped down a narrow stone stairway which, protected by a little +roof, ran down to a few boats on the Elbe. At least, Herse reported +that at midnight the Squire in a skiff without rudder or oars had +arrived at a village on the Elbe, to the great astonishment of the +inhabitants who were assembled on account of the fire at Tronka Castle +and that he had gone on toward Erlabrunn in a village cart. + +Kohlhaas sighed deeply at this news; he asked whether the horses had +been fed, and when they answered "Yes," he had his men mount, and in +three hours' time he was at the gates of Erlabrunn. Amid the rumbling +of a distant storm on the horizon, he and his troop entered the +courtyard of the convent with torches which they had lighted before +reaching the spot. Just as Waldmann, his servant, came forward to +announce that the mandate had been duly delivered, Kohlhaas saw the +abbess and the chapter-warden step out under the portal of the +nunnery, engaged in agitated conversation. While the chapter-warden, a +little old man with snow-white hair, shooting furious glances at +Kohlhaas, was having his armor put on and, in a bold voice, called to +the men-servants surrounding him to ring the storm-bell, the abbess, +white as a sheet, and holding the silver image of the Crucified One in +her hand, descended the sloping driveway and, with all her nuns, flung +herself down before Kohlhaas' horse. + +Herse and Sternbald overpowered the chapter-warden, who had no sword +in his hand, and led him off as a prisoner among the horses, while +Kohlhaas asked the abbess where Squire Wenzel Tronka was. She +unfastened from her girdle a large ring of keys, and answered, "In +Wittenberg, Kohlhaas, worthy man!"--adding, in a shaking voice, "Fear +God, and do no wrong!" Kohlhaas, plunged back into the hell of +unsatisfied thirst for revenge, wheeled his horse and was about to +cry, "Set fire to the buildings!" when a terrific thunder-bolt struck +close beside him. Turning his horse around again toward the abbess he +asked her whether she had received his mandate. The lady answered in a +weak, scarcely audible voice--"Just a few moments ago!" "When?" "Two +hours after the Squire, my nephew, had taken his departure, as truly +as God is my help!" When Waldmann, the groom, to whom Kohlhaas turned +with a lowering glance, stammered out a confirmation of this fact, +saying that the waters of the Mulde, swollen by the rain, had +prevented his arriving until a few moments ago, Kohlhaas came to his +senses. A sudden, terrible downpour of rain, sweeping across the +pavement of the courtyard and extinguishing the torches, relaxed the +tension of the unhappy man's grief; doffing his hat curtly to the +abbess, he wheeled his horse, dug in his spurs, calling "Follow me, my +brothers; the Squire is in Wittenberg," and left the nunnery. + +The night having set in, he stopped at an inn on the highroad, and had +to rest here for a day because the horses were so exhausted. As he +clearly saw that with a troop of ten men (for his company numbered +that many now) he could not defy a place like Wittenberg, he drew up a +second mandate, in which, after a short account of what had happened +to him in the land, he summoned "every good Christian," as he +expressed it, to whom he "solemnly promised bounty-money and other +perquisites of war, to take up his quarrel against Squire Tronka as +the common enemy of all Christians." In another mandate which appeared +shortly after this he called himself "a free gentleman of the Empire +and of the World, subject only to God"--an example of morbid and +misplaced fanaticism which, nevertheless, with the sound of his money +and the prospect of plunder, procured him a crowd of recruits from +among the rabble, whom the peace with Poland had deprived of a +livelihood. In fact, he had thirty-odd men when he crossed back to the +right side of the Elbe, bent upon reducing Wittenberg to ashes. + +He encamped with horses and men in an old tumble-down brick-kiln, in +the solitude of a dense forest which surrounded the town at that time. +No sooner had Sternbald, whom he had sent in disguise into the city +with the mandate, brought him word that it was already known there, +than he set out with his troop on the eve of Whitsuntide; and while +the citizens lay sound asleep, he set the town on fire at several +points simultaneously. At the same time, while his men were plundering +the suburbs, he fastened a paper to the door-post of a church to the +effect that "he, Kohlhaas, had set the city on fire, and if the Squire +were not delivered to him he would burn down the city so completely +that," as he expressed it, "he would not need to look behind any wall +to find him." + +The terror of the citizens at such an unheard-of outrage was +indescribable, though, as it was fortunately a rather calm summer +night, the flames had not destroyed more than nineteen buildings, +among which, however, was a church. Toward daybreak, as soon as the +fire had been partially extinguished, the aged Governor of the +province, Otto von Gorgas, sent out immediately a company of fifty men +to capture the bloodthirsty madman. The captain in command of the +company, Gerstenberg by name, bore himself so badly, however, that the +whole expedition, instead of subduing Kohlhaas, rather helped him to a +most dangerous military reputation. For the captain separated his men +into several divisions, with the intention of surrounding and crushing +Kohlhaas; but the latter, holding his troop together, attacked and +beat him at isolated points, so that by the evening of the following +day, not a single man of the whole company in which the hopes of the +country were centred, remained in the field against him. Kohlhaas, who +had lost some of his men in these fights, again set fire to the city +on the morning of the next day, and his murderous measures were so +well taken that once more a number of houses and almost all the barns +in the suburbs were burned down. At the same time he again posted the +well-known mandate, this time, furthermore, on the corners of the +city hall itself, and he added a notice concerning the fate of Captain +von Gerstenberg who had been sent against him by the Governor, and +whom he had overwhelmingly defeated. + +The Governor of the province, highly incensed at this defiance, placed +himself with several knights at the head of a troop of one hundred and +fifty men. At a written request he gave Squire Wenzel Tronka a guard +to protect him from the violence of the people, who flatly insisted +that he must be removed from the city. After the Governor had had +guards placed in all the villages in the vicinity, and also had +sentinels stationed on the city walls to prevent a surprise, he +himself set out on Saint Gervaise's day to capture the dragon who was +devastating the land. The horse-dealer was clever enough to keep out +of the way of this troop. By skilfully executed marches he enticed the +Governor five leagues away from the city, and by means of various +manoeuvres he gave the other the mistaken notion that, hard pressed by +superior numbers, he was going to throw himself into Brandenburg. +Then, when the third night closed in, he made a forced ride back to +Wittenberg, and for the third time set fire to the city. Herse, who +crept into the town in disguise, carried out this horrible feat of +daring, and because of a sharp north wind that was blowing, the fire +proved so destructive and spread so rapidly that in less than three +hours forty-two houses, two churches, several convents and schools, +and the very residence of the electoral governor of the province were +reduced to ruins and ashes. + +The Governor who, when the day broke, believed his adversary to be in +Brandenburg, returned by forced marches when informed of what had +happened, and found the city in a general uproar. The people were +massed by thousands around the Squire's house, which was barricaded +with heavy timbers and posts, and with wild cries they demanded his +expulsion from the city. Two burgomasters, Jenkens and Otto by name, +who were present in their official dress at the head of the entire +city council, tried in vain to explain that they absolutely must await +the return of a courier who had been dispatched to the President of +the Chancery of State for permission to send the Squire to Dresden, +whither he himself, for many reasons, wished to go. The unreasoning +crowd, armed with pikes and staves, cared nothing for these words. +After handling rather roughly some councilors who were insisting upon +the adoption of vigorous measures, the mob was about to storm the +house where the Squire was and level it to the ground, when the +Governor, Otto von Gorgas, appeared in the city at the head of his +troopers. This worthy gentleman, who was wont by his mere presence to +inspire people to respectful obedience, had, as though in compensation +for the failure of the expedition from which he was returning, +succeeded in taking prisoner three stray members of the incendiary's +band, right in front of the gates of the city. While the prisoners +were being loaded with chains before the eyes of the people, he made a +clever speech to the city councilors, assuring them that he was on +Kohlhaas' track and thought that he would soon be able to bring the +incendiary himself in chains. By force of all these reassuring +circumstances he succeeded in allaying the fears of the assembled +crowd and in partially reconciling them to the presence of the Squire +until the return of the courier from Dresden. He dismounted from his +horse and, accompanied by some knights, entered the house after the +posts and stockades had been cleared away. He found the Squire, who +was falling from one faint into another, in the hands of two doctors, +who with essences and stimulants were trying to restore him to +consciousness. As Sir Otto von Gorgas realized that this was not the +moment to exchange any words with him on the subject of the behavior +of which he had been guilty, he merely told him, with a look of quiet +contempt, to dress himself, and, for his own safety, to follow him to +the apartments of the knight's prison. They put a doublet and a helmet +on the Squire and when, with chest half bare on account of the +difficulty he had in breathing, he appeared in the street on the arm +of the Governor and his brother-in-law, the Count of Gerschau, +blasphemous and horrible curses against him rose to heaven. The mob, +whom the lansquenets found it very difficult to restrain, called him a +bloodsucker, a miserable public pest and a tormentor of men, the curse +of the city of Wittenberg, and the ruin of Saxony. After a wretched +march through the devastated city, in the course of which the Squire's +helmet fell off several times without his missing it and had to be +replaced on his head by the knight who was behind him, they reached +the prison at last, where he disappeared into a tower under the +protection of a strong guard. Meanwhile the return of the courier with +the decree of the Elector had aroused fresh alarm in the city. For the +Saxon government, to which the citizens of Dresden had made direct +application in an urgent petition, refused to permit the Squire to +sojourn in the electoral capital before the incendiary had been +captured. The Governor was instructed rather to use all the power at +his command to protect the Squire just where he was, since he had to +stay somewhere, but in order to pacify the good city of Wittenberg, +the inhabitants were informed that a force of five hundred men under +the command of Prince Friedrich of Meissen was already on the way to +protect them from further molestation on the part of Kohlhaas. + +The Governor saw clearly that a decree of this kind was wholly +inadequate to pacify the people. For not only had several small +advantages gained by the horse-dealer in skirmishes outside the city +sufficed to spread extremely disquieting rumors as to the size to +which his band had grown; his way of waging warfare with ruffians in +disguise who slunk about under cover of darkness with pitch, straw, +and sulphur, unheard of and quite without precedent as it was, would +have rendered ineffectual an even larger protecting force than the one +which was advancing under the Prince of Meissen. After reflecting a +short time, the Governor determined therefore to suppress altogether +the decree he had received; he merely posted at all the street corners +a letter from the Prince of Meissen, announcing his arrival. At +daybreak a covered wagon left the courtyard of the knight's prison and +took the road to Leipzig, accompanied by four heavily armed troopers +who, in an indefinite sort of way, let it be understood that they were +bound for the Pleissenburg. The people having thus been satisfied on +the subject of the ill-starred Squire, whose existence seemed +identified with fire and sword, the Governor himself set out with a +force of three hundred men to join Prince Friedrich of Meissen. In the +mean time Kohlhaas, thanks to the strange position which he had +assumed in the world, had in truth increased the numbers of his band +to one hundred and nine men, and he had also collected in Jessen a +store of weapons with which he had fully armed them. When informed of +the two tempests that were sweeping down upon him, he decided to go to +meet them with the speed of the hurricane before they should join to +overwhelm him. In accordance with this plan he attacked the Prince of +Meissen the very next night, surprising him near Muehlberg. In this +fight, to be sure, he was greatly grieved to lose Herse, who was +struck down at his side by the first shots but, embittered by this +loss, in a three-hour battle he so roughly handled the Prince of +Meissen, who was unable to collect his forces in the town, that at +break of day the latter was obliged to take the road back to Dresden, +owing to several severe wounds which he had received and the complete +disorder into which his troops had been thrown. Kohlhaas, made +foolhardy by this victory, turned back to attack the Governor before +the latter could learn of it, fell upon him at midday in the open +country near the village of Damerow, and fought him until nightfall, +with murderous losses, to be sure, but with corresponding success. +Indeed, the next morning he would certainly with the remnant of his +band have renewed the attack on the Governor, who had thrown himself +into the churchyard at Damerow, if the latter had not received +through spies the news of the defeat of the Prince at Muehlberg and +therefore deemed it wiser to return to Wittenberg to await a more +propitious moment. + +Five days after the dispersion of these two bodies of troops, Kohlhaas +arrived before Leipzig and set fire to the city on three different +sides. In the mandate which he scattered broadcast on this occasion he +called himself "a vicegerent of the archangel Michael who had come to +visit upon all who, in this controversy, should take the part of the +Squire, punishment by fire and sword for the villainy into which the +whole world was plunged." At the same time, having surprised the +castle at Luetzen and fortified himself in it, he summoned the people +to join him and help establish a better order of things. With a sort +of insane fanaticism the mandate was signed: "Done at the seat of our +provisional world government, our ancient castle at Luetzen." + +As the good fortune of the inhabitants of Leipzig would have it, the +fire, owing to a steady rain which was falling, did not spread, so +that, thanks to the rapid action of the means at hand for +extinguishing fires, only a few small shops which lay around the +Pleissenburg went up in flames; nevertheless the presence of the +desperate incendiary, and his erroneous impression that the Squire was +in Leipzig, caused unspeakable consternation in the city. When a troop +of one hundred and eighty men at arms that had been sent against him +returned defeated, nothing else remained for the city councilors, who +did not wish to jeopardize the wealth of the place, but to bar the +gates completely and set the citizens to keep watch day and night +outside the walls. In vain the city council had declarations posted in +the villages of the surrounding country, with the positive assurance +that the Squire was not in the Pleissenburg. The horse-dealer, in +similar manifestos, insisted that he was in the Pleissenburg and +declared that if the Squire were not there, he, Kohlhaas, would at any +rate proceed as though he were until he should have been told the +name of the place where his enemy was to be found. The Elector, +notified by courier of the straits to which the city of Leipzig was +reduced, declared that he was already gathering a force of two +thousand men and would put himself at their head in order to capture +Kohlhaas. He administered to Sir Otto von Gorgas a severe rebuke for +the misleading and ill-considered artifice to which he had resorted to +rid the vicinity of Wittenberg of the incendiary. Nor can any one +describe the confusion which seized all Saxony, and especially the +electoral capital, when it was learned there that in all the villages +near Leipzig a declaration addressed to Kohlhaas had been placarded, +no one knew by whom, to the effect that "Wenzel, the Squire, was with +his cousins Hinz and Kunz in Dresden." + +It was under these circumstances that Doctor Martin Luther, supported +by the authority which his position in the world gave him, undertook +the task of forcing Kohlhaas, by the power of kindly words, back +within the limits set by the social order of the day. Building upon an +element of good in the breast of the incendiary, he had posted in all +the cities and market-towns of the Electorate a placard addressed to +him, which read as follows: + +"Kohlhaas, thou who claimest to be sent to wield the sword of justice, +what is it that thou, presumptuous man, art making bold to attempt in +the madness of thy stone-blind passion--thou who art filled from head +to foot with injustice? Because the sovereign, to whom thou art +subject, has denied thee thy rights--thy rights in the struggle for a +paltry trifle--thou arisest, godless man, with fire and sword, and +like a wolf of the wilderness dost burst upon the peaceful community +which he protects. Thou, who misleadest men with this declaration full +of untruthfulness and guile, dost thou think, sinner, to satisfy God +therewith in that future day which shall shine into the recesses of +every heart? How canst thou say that thy rights have been denied +thee--thou, whose savage breast, animated by the inordinate desire +for base revenge, completely gave up the endeavor to procure justice +after the first half-hearted attempts, which came to naught? Is a +bench full of constables and beadles who suppress a letter that is +presented, or who withhold a judgment that they should deliver--is +this thy supreme authority? And must I tell thee, impious man, that +the supreme authority of the land knows nothing whatever about thine +affair--nay, more, that the sovereign against whom thou art rebelling +does not even know thy name, so that when thou shalt one day come +before the throne of God thinking to accuse him, he will be able to +say with a serene countenance, 'I have done no wrong to this man, +Lord, for my soul is ignorant of his existence.' Know that the sword +which thou wieldest is the sword of robbery and bloodthirstiness. A +rebel art thou, and no warrior of the righteous God; wheel and gallows +are thy goal on earth--gallows and, in the life to come, damnation +which is ordained for crime and godlessness. + +Wittenberg, etc. MARTIN LUTHER." + +When Sternbald and Waldmann, to their great consternation, discovered +the placard which had been affixed to the gateway of the castle at +Luetzen during the night, Kohlhaas within the castle was just revolving +in his distracted mind a new plan for the burning of Leipzig--for he +placed no faith in the notices posted in the villages announcing that +Squire Wenzel was in Dresden, since they were not signed by any one, +let alone by the municipal council, as he had required. For several +days the two men hoped in vain that Kohlhaas would perceive Luther's +placard, for they did not care to approach him on the subject. Gloomy +and absorbed in thought, he did indeed, in the evening, appear, but +only to give his brief commands, and he noticed nothing. Finally one +morning, when he was about to have two of his followers strung up for +plundering in the vicinity against his express orders, Sternbald and +Waldmann determined to call his attention to it. With the pomp which +he had adopted since his last manifesto--a large cherubim's sword on +a red leather cushion, ornamented with golden tassels, borne before +him, and twelve men with burning torches following him--Kohlhaas was +just returning from the place of execution, while the people on both +sides timidly made way for him. At that moment the two men, with their +swords under their arms, walked, in a way that could not fail to +excite his surprise, around the pillar to which the placard was +attached. + +When Kohlhaas, sunk in thought and with his hands folded behind his +back, came under the portal, he raised his eyes and started back in +surprise, and as the two men at sight of him drew back respectfully, +he advanced with rapid steps to the pillar, watching them +absent-mindedly. But who can describe the storm of emotion in his soul +when he beheld there the paper accusing him of injustice, signed by +the most beloved and honored name he knew--the name of Martin Luther! +A dark flush spread over his face; taking off his helmet he read the +document through twice from beginning to end, then walked back among +his men with irresolute glances as though he were about to speak, yet +said nothing. He unfastened the paper from the pillar, read it through +once again, and cried, "Waldmann! have my horse saddled!"--then, +"Sternbald, follow me into the castle!" and with that he disappeared. +It had needed but these few words of that godly man to disarm him +suddenly in the midst of all the dire destruction that he was +plotting. + +He threw on the disguise of a Thuringian farmer and told Sternbald +that a matter of the greatest importance obliged him to go to +Wittenberg. In the presence of some of his most trustworthy men he +turned over to Sternbald the command of the band remaining in Luetzen, +and with the assurance that he would be back in three days, during +which time no attack was to be feared, he departed for Wittenberg. He +put up at an inn under an assumed name, and at nightfall, wrapped in +his cloak and provided with a brace of pistols which he had taken at +the sack of Tronka Castle, entered Luther's room. When Luther, who +was sitting at his desk with a mass of books and papers before him, +saw the extraordinary stranger enter his room and bolt the door behind +him, he asked who he was and what he wanted. The man, who was holding +his hat respectfully in his hand, had no sooner, with a diffident +presentiment of the terror that he would cause, made answer that he +was Michael Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer, than Luther cried out, "Stand +far back from me!" and rising from the desk added, as he hurried +toward a bell, "Your breath is pestilence, your presence destruction!" + +Without stirring from the spot Kohlhaas drew his pistol and said, +"Most reverend Sir, if you touch the bell this pistol will stretch me +lifeless at your feet! Sit down and hear me. You are not safer among +the angels, whose psalms you are writing down, than you are with me." + +Luther sat down and asked, "What do you want?" Kohlhaas answered, "I +wish to refute the opinion you have of me, that I am an unjust man! +You told me in your placard that my sovereign knows nothing about my +case. Very well; procure me a safe-conduct and I will go to Dresden +and lay it before him." + +"Impious and terrible man!" cried Luther, puzzled and, at the same +time, reassured by these words. "Who gave you the right to attack +Squire Tronka in pursuance of a decree issued on your own authority, +and, when you did not find him in his castle, to visit with fire and +sword the whole community which protects him?" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Reverend Sir, no one, henceforth. Information +which I received from Dresden deceived and misled me! The war which I +am waging against society is a crime, so long as I haven't been cast +out--and you have assured me that I have not." + +"Cast out!" cried Luther, looking at him. "What mad thoughts have +taken possession of you? Who could have cast you out from the +community of the state in which you lived? Indeed where, as long as +states have existed, has there ever been a case of any one, no matter +who, being cast out of such a community?" + +"I call that man cast out," answered Kohlhaas, clenching his fist, "who +is denied the protection of the laws. For I need this protection, if +my peaceable business is to prosper. Yes, it is for this that, with +all my possessions, I take refuge in this community, and he who denies +me this protection casts me out among the savages of the desert; he +places in my hand--how can you try to deny it?--the club with which to +protect myself." + +"Who has denied you the protection of the laws?" cried Luther. "Did I +not write you that your sovereign, to whom you addressed your +complaint, has never heard of it? If state-servants behind his back +suppress lawsuits or otherwise trifle with his sacred name without his +knowledge, who but God has the right to call him to account for +choosing such servants, and are you, lost and terrible man, entitled +to judge him therefor?" + +"Very well," answered Kohlhaas, "if the sovereign does not cast me out +I will return again to the community which he protects. Procure for +me, I repeat it, safe-conduct to Dresden; then I will disperse the +band of men that I have collected in the castle at Luetzen and I will +once again lay my complaint, which was rejected, before the courts of +the land." + +With an expression of vexation, Luther tossed in a heap the papers +that were lying on his desk, and was silent. The attitude of defiance +which this singular man had assumed toward the state irritated him, +and reflecting upon the judgment which Kohlhaas had issued at +Kohlhaasenbrueck against the Squire, he asked what it was that he +demanded of the tribunal at Dresden. Kohlhaas answered, "The +punishment of the Squire according to the law; restoration of the +horses to their former condition; and compensation for the damages +which I, as well as my groom Herse, who fell at Muehlberg, have +suffered from the outrage perpetrated upon us." + +Luther cried, "Compensation for damages! Money by the thousands, from +Jews and Christians, on notes and securities, you have borrowed to +defray the expenses of your wild revenge! Shall you put that amount +also on the bill when it comes to reckoning up the costs?" + +"God forbid!" answered Kohlhaas. "House and farm and the means that I +possessed I do not demand back, any more than the expenses of my +wife's funeral! Herse's old mother will present the bill for her son's +medical treatment, as well as a list of those things which he lost at +Tronka Castle; and the loss which I suffered on account of not selling +the black horses the government may have estimated by an expert." + +Luther exclaimed, as he gazed at him, "Mad, incomprehensible, and +amazing man! After your sword has taken the most ferocious revenge +upon the Squire which could well be imagined, what impels you to +insist upon a judgment against him, the severity of which, when it is +finally pronounced, will fall so lightly upon him?" + +Kohlhaas answered, while a tear rolled down his cheek, "Most reverend +Sir! It has cost me my wife; Kohlhaas intends to prove to the world +that she did not perish in an unjust quarrel. Do you, in these +particulars, yield to my will and let the court of justice speak; in +all other points that may be contested I will yield to you." + +Luther said, "See here, what you demand is just, if indeed the +circumstances are such as is commonly reported; and if you had only +succeeded in having your suit decided by the sovereign before you +arbitrarily proceeded to avenge yourself, I do not doubt that your +demands would have been granted, point for point. But, all things +considered, would it not have been better for you to pardon the Squire +for your Redeemer's sake, take back the black horses, thin and +worn-out as they were, and mount and ride home to Kohlhaasenbrueck to +fatten them in your own stable?" + +Kohlhaas answered, "Perhaps!" Then, stepping to the window, "Perhaps +not, either! Had I known that I should be obliged to set them on +their feet again with blood from the heart of my dear wife, I might, +reverend Sir, perhaps have done as you say and not have considered a +bushel of oats! But since they have now cost me so dear, let the +matter run its course, say I; have judgment be pronounced as is due +me, and have the Squire fatten my horses for me." + +Turning back to his papers with conflicting thoughts, Luther said that +he would enter into negotiations with the Elector on his behalf; in +the mean time let him remain quietly in the castle at Luetzen. If the +sovereign would consent to accord him free-conduct, they would make +the fact known to him by posting it publicly. "To be sure," he +continued, as Kohlhaas bent to kiss his hand, "whether the Elector +will be lenient, I do not know, for I have heard that he has collected +an army and is about to start out to apprehend you in the castle at +Luetzen; however, as I have already told you, there shall be no lack of +effort on my part"--and, as he spoke, he got up from his chair +prepared to dismiss him. Kohlhaas declared that Luther's intercession +completely reassured him on that point, whereupon Luther bowed to him +with a sweep of his hand. Kohlhaas, however, suddenly sank down on one +knee before him and said he had still another favor to ask of him--the +fact was, that at Whitsuntide, when it was his custom to receive the +Holy Communion, he had failed to go to church on account of this +warlike expedition of his. Would Luther have the goodness to receive +his confession without further preparation and, in exchange, +administer to him the blessed Holy Sacrament? Luther, after reflecting +a short time, scanned his face, and said, "Yes, Kohlhaas, I will do +so. But the Lord, whose body you desire, forgave his enemy. Will you +likewise," he added, as the other looked at him disconcerted, "forgive +the Squire who has offended you? Will you go to Tronka Castle, mount +your black horses, ride them back to Kohlhaasenbrueck and fatten them +there?" + +"Your Reverence!" said Kohlhaas flushing, and seized his hand-- + +"Well?" + +"Even the Lord did not forgive all his enemies. Let me forgive the +Elector, my two gentlemen the castellan and the steward, the lords +Hinz and Kunz, and whoever else may have injured me in this affair; +but, if it is possible, suffer me to force the Squire to fatten my +black horses again for me." + +At these words Luther turned his back on him, with a displeased +glance, and rang the bell. In answer to the summons an amanuensis came +into the anteroom with a light, and Kohlhaas, wiping his eyes, rose +from his knees disconcerted; and since the amanuensis was working in +vain at the door, which was bolted, and Luther had sat down again to +his papers, Kohlhaas opened the door for the man. Luther glanced for +an instant over his shoulder at the stranger, and said to the +amanuensis, "Light the way!" whereupon the latter, somewhat surprised +at the sight of the visitor, took down from the wall the key to the +outside door and stepped back to the half-opened door of the room, +waiting for the stranger to take his departure. Kohlhaas, holding his +hat nervously in both hands, said, "And so, most reverend Sir, I +cannot partake of the benefit of reconciliation, which I solicited of +you?" + +Luther answered shortly, "Reconciliation with your Savior--no! With +the sovereign--that depends upon the success of the attempt which I +promised you to make." And then he motioned to the amanuensis to carry +out, without further delay, the command he had given him. Kohlhaas +laid both hands on his heart with an expression of painful emotion, +and disappeared after the man who was lighting him down the stairs. + +On the next morning Luther dispatched a message to the Elector of +Saxony in which, after a bitter allusion to the lords, Hinz and Kunz +Tronka, Chamberlain and Cup-bearer to his Highness, who, as was +generally known, had suppressed the petition, he informed the +sovereign, with the candor that was peculiar to him, that under such +notorious circumstances there was nothing to do but to accept the +proposition of the horse-dealer and to grant him an amnesty for what +had occurred so that he might have opportunity to renew his lawsuit. +Public opinion, Luther remarked, was on the side of this man to a very +dangerous extent--so much so that, even in Wittenberg, which had three +times been burnt down by him, there was a voice raised in his favor. +And since, if his offer were refused, Kohlhaas would undoubtedly bring +it to the knowledge of the people, accompanied by malicious comments, +and the populace might easily be so far misled that nothing further +could be done against him by the authorities of the state, Luther +concluded that, in this extraordinary case, scruples about entering +into negotiations with a subject who had taken up arms must be passed +over; that, as a matter of fact, the latter, by the conduct which had +been observed toward him, had in a sense been cast out of the body +politic, and, in short, in order to put an end to the matter, he +should be regarded rather as a foreign power which had attacked the +land (and, since he was not a Saxon subject, he really might, in a +way, be regarded as such), than as a rebel in revolt against the +throne. + +When the Elector received this letter there were present at the palace +Prince Christiern of Meissen, Generalissimo of the Empire, uncle of +that Prince Friedrich of Meissen who had been defeated at Muehlberg and +was still laid up with his wounds, also the Grand Chancellor of the +Tribunal, Count Wrede, Count Kallheim, President of the Chancery of +State, and the two lords, Hinz and Kunz Tronka, the former Cup-bearer, +the latter Chamberlain--all confidential friends of the sovereign from +his youth. The Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, who in his capacity of privy +councilor, attended to the private correspondence of his master and +had the right to use his name and seal, was the first to speak. He +once more explained in detail that never, on his own authority, would +he have suppressed the complaint which the horse-dealer had lodged in +court against his cousin the Squire, had it not been for the fact +that, misled by false statements, he had believed it an absolutely +unfounded and worthless piece of mischief-making. After this he passed +on to consider the present state of affairs. He remarked that by +neither divine nor human laws had the horse-dealer been warranted in +wreaking such horrible vengeance as he had allowed himself to take for +this mistake. The Chamberlain then proceeded to describe the glory +that would fall upon the damnable head of the latter if they should +negotiate with him as with a recognized military power, and the +ignominy which would thereby be reflected upon the sacred person of +the Elector seemed to him so intolerable that, carried away by the +fire of his eloquence, he declared he would rather let worst come to +worst, see the judgment of the mad rebel carried out and his cousin, +the Squire, led off to Kohlhaasenbrueck to fatten the black horses, +than know that the proposition made by Dr. Luther had been accepted. + +The Lord High Chancellor of the Tribunal of Justice, Count Wrede, +turning half way round toward him, expressed regret that the +Chamberlain had not, in the first instance, been inspired with such +tender solicitude for the reputation of the sovereign as he was +displaying in the solution of this undoubtedly delicate affair. He +represented to the Elector his hesitation about employing the power of +the state to carry out a manifestly unjust measure. He remarked, with +a significant allusion to the great numbers which the horse-dealer was +continually recruiting in the country, that the thread of the crime +threatened in this way to be spun out indefinitely, and declared that +the only way to sunder it and extricate the government happily from +that ugly quarrel was to act with plain honesty and to make good, +directly and without respect of person, the mistake which they had +been guilty of committing. + +Prince Christiern of Meissen, when asked by the Elector to express his +opinion, turned deferentially toward the Grand Chancellor and declared +that the latter's way of thinking naturally inspired in him the +greatest respect, but, in wishing to aid Kohlhaas to secure justice, +the Chancellor failed to consider that he was wronging Wittenberg, +Leipzig, and the entire country that had been injured by him, in +depriving them of their just claim for indemnity or at least for +punishment of the culprit. The order of the state was so disturbed in +its relation to this man that it would be difficult to set it right by +an axiom taken from the science of law. Therefore, in accord with the +opinion of the Chamberlain, he was in favor of employing the means +appointed for such cases--that is to say, there should be gathered a +force large enough to enable them either to capture or to crush the +horse-dealer, who had planted himself in the castle at Luetzen. The +Chamberlain brought over two chairs from the wall and obligingly +placed them together in the middle of the room for the Elector and the +Prince, saying, as he did so, that he was delighted to find that a man +of the latter's uprightness and acumen agreed with him about the means +to be employed in settling an affair of such varied aspect. The +Prince, placing his hand on the chair without sitting down, looked at +him, and assured him that he had little cause to rejoice on that +account since the first step connected with this course would be the +issuing of a warrant for his arrest, to be followed by a suit for +misuse of the sovereign's name. For if necessity required that the +veil be drawn before the throne of justice over a series of crimes, +which finally would be unable to find room before the bar of judgment, +since each led to another, and no end--this at least did not apply to +the original offense which had given birth to them. First and +foremost, he, the Chamberlain, must be tried for his life if the state +was to be authorized to crush the horse-dealer, whose case, as was +well known, was exceedingly just, and in whose hand they had placed +the sword that he was wielding. + +The discomfited Chamberlain at these words gazed at the Elector, who +turned away, his whole face flushing, and walked over to the window. +After an embarrassing silence on all sides, Count Kallheim said that +this was not the way to extricate themselves from the magic circle in +which they were captive. His nephew, Prince Friedrich, might be put +upon trial with equal justice, for in the peculiar expedition which he +had undertaken against Kohlhaas he had over-stepped his instructions +in many ways--so much so that, if one were to inquire about the whole +long list of those who had caused the embarrassment in which they now +found themselves, he too would have to be named among them and called +to account by the sovereign for what had occurred at Muehlberg. + +While the Elector, with doubtful glances, walked up to his table, the +Cup-bearer, Sir Hinz Tronka, began to speak in his turn. He did not +understand, he said, how the governmental decree which was to be +passed could escape men of such wisdom as were here assembled. The +horse-dealer, so far as he knew, in return for mere safe-conduct to +Dresden and a renewed investigation of his case, had promised to +disband the force with which he had attacked the land. It did not +follow from this, however, that he must be granted an amnesty for the +wanton revenge he had taken into his own hands. These were two +different legal concepts which Dr. Luther, as well as the council of +state, seemed to have confounded. "When," he continued, laying his +finger beside his nose, "the judgment concerning the black horses has +been pronounced by the Tribunal at Dresden, no matter what it may be, +nothing prevents us from imprisoning Kohlhaas on the ground of his +incendiarism and robberies. That would be a diplomatic solution of the +affair, which would unite the advantages of the opinion of both +statesmen and would be sure to win the applause of the world and of +posterity." The Prince, as well as the Lord Chancellor, answered this +speech of Sir Hinz with a mere glance, and, as the discussion +accordingly seemed at an end, the Elector said that he would turn over +in his own mind, until the next sitting of the State Council, the +various opinions which had been expressed before him. It seemed as if +the preliminary measure mentioned by the Prince had deprived the +Elector's heart, which was very sensitive where friendship was +concerned, of the desire to proceed with the campaign against +Kohlhaas, all the preparations for which were completed; at least he +bade the Lord Chancellor, Count Wrede, whose opinion appeared to him +the most expedient, to remain after the others left. The latter showed +him letters from which it appeared that, as a matter of fact, the +horse-dealer's forces had already come to number four hundred men; +indeed, in view of the general discontent which prevailed all over the +country on account of the misdemeanors of the Chamberlain, he might +reckon on doubling or even tripling this number in a short time. +Without further hesitation the Elector decided to accept the advice +given him by Dr. Luther; accordingly he handed over to Count Wrede the +entire management of the Kohlhaas affair. Only a few days later a +placard appeared, the essence of which we give as follows: + +"We, etc., etc., Elector of Saxony, in especially gracious +consideration of the intercession made to us by Doctor Martin Luther, +do grant to Michael Kohlhaas, horse-dealer from the territory of +Brandenburg, safe-conduct to Dresden for the purpose of a renewed +investigation of his case, on condition that, within three days after +sight, he lay down the arms to which he has had recourse. It is to be +understood, however, that in the unlikely event of Kohlhaas' suit +concerning the black horses being rejected by the Tribunal at Dresden, +he shall be prosecuted with all the severity of the law for +arbitrarily undertaking to procure justice for himself. Should his +suit, however, terminate otherwise, we will show mercy to him and his +whole band, instead of inflicting deserved punishment, and a complete +amnesty shall be accorded him for the acts of violence which he has +committed in Saxony." + +Kohlhaas had no sooner received through Dr. Luther a copy of this +placard, which had been posted in all the public squares throughout +the land, than, in spite of the conditional language in which it was +couched, he immediately dispersed his whole band of followers with +presents, expressions of gratitude, and appropriate admonitions. He +deposited whatever he had taken in the way of money, weapons, and +chattels, with the courts at Luetzen, to be held as the property of the +Elector, and after he had dispatched Waldmann to the bailiff at +Kohlhaasenbrueck with letters about repurchasing his farm, if that were +still possible, and had sent Sternbald to Schwerin for his children +whom he wished to have with him again, he left the castle at Luetzen +and went, without being recognized, to Dresden, carrying with him in +bonds the remnant of his little property. + +Day was just breaking and the whole city was still asleep when he +knocked at the door of the little dwelling situated in the suburb of +Pirna, which still, thanks to the honesty of the bailiff, belonged to +him. Thomas, the old porter, in charge of the establishment, who on +opening the door was surprised and startled to see his master, was +told to take word to the Prince of Meissen, in the Government Office, +that Kohlhaas the horse-dealer had arrived. The Prince of Meissen, on +hearing this news, deemed it expedient to inform himself immediately +of the relation in which they stood to this man. When, shortly +afterward, he appeared with a retinue of knights and servants, he +found an immense crowd of people already gathered in the streets +leading to Kohlhaas' dwelling. The news that the destroying angel was +there, who punished the oppressors of the people with fire and sword, +had aroused all Dresden, the city as well as the suburbs. They were +obliged to bolt the door of the house against the press of curious +people, and the boys climbed up to the windows in order to get a peep +at the incendiary, who was eating his breakfast inside. + +As soon as the Prince, with the help of the guard who cleared the way +for him, had pushed into the house and entered Kohlhaas' room, he +asked the latter, who was standing half undressed before a table, +whether he was Kohlhaas, the horse-dealer. Kohlhaas, drawing from his +belt a wallet containing several papers concerning his affairs and +handing it respectfully to the Prince, answered, "Yes;" and added +that, in conformity with the immunity granted him by the sovereign, he +had come to Dresden, after disbanding his force, in order to institute +proceedings against Squire Wenzel Tronka on account of the black +horses. + +The Prince, after a hasty glance which took Kohlhaas in from head to +foot, looked through the papers in the wallet and had him explain the +nature of a certificate which he found there executed by the court at +Luetzen, concerning the deposit made in favor of the treasury of the +Electorate. After he had further tested him with various questions +about his children, his wealth, and the sort of life he intended to +lead in the future, in order to find out what kind of man he was, and +had concluded that in every respect they might set their minds at rest +about him, he gave him back the documents and said that nothing now +stood in the way of his lawsuit, and that, in order to institute it, +he should just apply directly to the Lord High Chancellor of the +Tribunal, Count Wrede himself. "In the meantime," said the Prince +after a pause, crossing over to the window and gazing in amazement at +the people gathered in front of the house, "you will be obliged to +consent to a guard for the first few days, to protect you in your +house as well as when you go out!" Kohlhaas looked down disconcerted, +and was silent. "Well, no matter," said the Prince, leaving the +window; "whatever happens, you have yourself to blame for it;" and +with that he turned again toward the door with the intention of +leaving the house. Kohlhaas, who had reflected, said "My lord, do as +you like! If you will give me your word that the guard will be +withdrawn as soon as I wish it, I have no objection to this measure." +The Prince answered, "That is understood, of course." He informed the +three foot-soldiers, who were appointed for this purpose, that the man +in whose house they were to remain was free, and that it was merely +for his protection that they were to follow him when he went out; he +then saluted the horse-dealer with a condescending wave of the hand, +and took his leave. + +Toward midday Kohlhaas went to Count Wrede, Lord High Chancellor of +the Tribunal; he was escorted by his three foot-soldiers and followed +by an innumerable crowd, who, having been warned by the police, did +not try to harm him in any way. The Chancellor received him in his +antechamber with benignity and kindness, conversed with him for two +whole hours, and after he had had the entire course of the affair +related to him from beginning to end, referred Kohlhaas to a +celebrated lawyer in the city who was a member of the Tribunal, so +that he might have the complaint drawn up and presented immediately. + +Kohlhaas, without further delay, betook himself to the lawyer's house +and had the suit drawn up exactly like the original one which had been +quashed. He demanded the punishment of the Squire according to law, +the restoration of the horses to their former condition, and +compensation for the damages he had sustained as well as for those +suffered by his groom, Herse, who had fallen at Muehlberg in behalf of +the latter's old mother. When this was done Kohlhaas returned home, +accompanied by the crowd that still continued to gape at him, firmly +resolved in his mind not to leave the house again unless called away +by important business. + +In the mean time the Squire had been released from his imprisonment in +Wittenberg, and after recovering from a dangerous attack of erysipelas +which had caused inflammation of his foot, had been summoned by the +Supreme Court in peremptory terms to present himself in Dresden to +answer the suit instituted against him by the horse-dealer, Kohlhaas, +with regard to a pair of black horses which had been unlawfully taken +from him and worked to death. The Tronka brothers, the Chamberlain and +the Cup-bearer, cousins of the Squire, at whose house he alighted, +received him with the greatest bitterness and contempt. They called +him a miserable good-for-nothing, who had brought shame and disgrace +on the whole family, told him that he would inevitably lose his suit, +and called upon him to prepare at once to produce the black horses, +which he would be condemned to fatten to the scornful laughter of the +world. The Squire answered in a weak and trembling voice that he was +more deserving of pity than any other man on earth. He swore that he +had known but little about the whole cursed affair which had plunged +him into misfortune, and that the castellan and the steward were to +blame for everything, because they, without his knowledge or consent, +had used the horses in getting in the crops and, by overworking them, +partly in their own fields, had rendered them unfit for further use. +He sat down as he said this and begged them not to mortify and insult +him and thus wantonly cause a relapse of the illness from which he had +but recently recovered. + +Since there was nothing else to be done, the next day, at the request +of their cousin, the Squire, the lords Hinz and Kunz, who possessed +estates in the neighborhood of Tronka Castle, which had been burned +down, wrote to their stewards and to the farmers living there for +information about the black horses which had been lost on that +unfortunate day and not heard of since. But on account of the complete +destruction of the castle and the massacre of most of the inhabitants, +all that they could learn was that a servant, driven by blows dealt +with the flat of the incendiary's sword, had rescued them from the +burning shed in which they were standing, but that afterward, to the +question where he should take them and what he should do with them, he +had been answered by a kick from the savage madman. The Squire's gouty +old housekeeper, who had fled to Meissen, assured the latter, in reply +to his written inquiry, that on the morning after that horrible night +the servant had gone off with the horses toward the Brandenburg +border, but all inquiries which were made there proved vain, and some +error seemed to lie at the bottom of this information, as the Squire +had no servant whose home was in Brandenburg or even on the road +thither. Some men from Dresden, who had been in Wilsdruf a few days +after the burning of Tronka Castle, declared that, at the time named, +a groom had arrived in that place, leading two horses by the halter, +and, as the animals were very sick and could go no further, he had +left them in the cow-stable of a shepherd who had offered to restore +them to good condition. For a variety of reasons it seemed very +probable that these were the black horses for which search was being +made, but persons coming from Wilsdruf declared that the shepherd had +already traded them off again, no one knew to whom; and a third rumor, +the originator of which could not be discovered, even asserted that +the two horses had in the mean time passed peacefully away and been +buried in the carrion pit at Wilsdruf. + +This turn of affairs, as can be easily understood, was the most +pleasing to the lords Hinz and Kunz, as they were thus relieved of the +necessity of fattening the blacks in their stables, the Squire, their +cousin, no longer having any stables of his own. They wished, however, +for the sake of absolute security, to verify this circumstance. Sir +Wenzel Tronka, therefore, in his capacity as hereditary feudal lord +with the right of judicature, addressed a letter to the magistrates at +Wilsdruf, in which, after a minute description of the black horses, +which, as he said, had been intrusted to his care and lost through an +accident, he begged them to be so obliging as to ascertain their +present whereabouts, and to urge and admonish the owner, whoever he +might be, to deliver them at the stables of the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, +in Dresden, and be generously reimbursed for all costs. Accordingly, a +few days later, the man to whom the shepherd in Wilsdruf had sold them +did actually appear with the horses, thin and staggering, tied to the +tailboard of his cart, and led them to the market-place in Dresden. As +the bad luck of Sir Wenzel and still more of honest Kohlhaas would +have it, however, the man happened to be the knacker from Doebeln. + +As soon as Sir Wenzel, in the presence of the Chamberlain, his +cousin, learned from an indefinite rumor that a man had arrived in the +city with two black horses which had escaped from the burning of +Tronka Castle, both gentlemen, accompanied by a few servants hurriedly +collected in the house, went to the palace square where the man had +stopped, intending, if the two animals proved to be those belonging to +Kohlhaas, to make good the expenses the man had incurred and take the +horses home with them. But how disconcerted were the knights to see a +momentarily increasing crowd of people, who had been attracted by the +spectacle, already standing around the two-wheeled cart to which the +horses were fastened! Amid uninterrupted laughter they were calling to +one another that the horses, on account of which the whole state was +tottering, already belonged to the knacker! The Squire who had gone +around the cart and gazed at the miserable animals, which seemed every +moment about to expire, said in an embarrassed way that those were not +the horses which he had taken from Kohlhaas; but Sir Kunz, the +Chamberlain, casting at him a look of speechless rage which, had it +been of iron, would have dashed him to pieces, and throwing back his +cloak to disclose his orders and chain, stepped up to the knacker and +asked if those were the black horses which the shepherd at Wilsdruf +had gained possession of, and for which Squire Wenzel Tronka, to whom +they belonged, had made requisition through the magistrate of that +place. + +The knacker who, with a pail of water in his hand, was busy watering a +fat, sturdy horse that was drawing his cart asked--"The blacks?" Then +he put down the pail, took the bit out of the horse's mouth, and +explained that the black horses which were tied to the tailboard of +the cart had been sold to him by the swineherd in Hainichen; where the +latter had obtained them and whether they came from the shepherd at +Wilsdruf--that he did not know. "He had been told," he continued, +taking up the pail again and propping it between the pole of the cart +and his knee "he had been told by the messenger of the court at +Wilsdruf to take the horses to the house of the Tronkas in Dresden, +but the Squire to whom he had been directed was named Kunz." With +these words he turned around with the rest of the water which the +horse had left in the pail, and emptied it out on the pavement. The +Chamberlain, who was beset by the stares of the laughing, jeering +crowd and could not induce the fellow, who was attending to his +business with phlegmatic zeal, to look at him, said that he was the +Chamberlain Kunz Tronka. The black horses, however, which he was to +get possession of, had to be those belonging to the Squire, his +cousin; they must have been given to the shepherd at Wilsdruf by a +stable-man who had run away from Tronka Castle at the time of the +fire; moreover, they must be the two horses that originally had +belonged to the horse-dealer Kohlhaas. He asked the fellow, who was +standing there with his legs apart, pulling up his trousers, whether +he did not know something about all this. Had not the swineherd of +Hainichen, he went on, perhaps purchased these horses from the +shepherd at Wilsdruf, or from a third person, who in turn had bought +them from the latter?--for everything depended on this circumstance. + +The knacker replied that he had been ordered to go with the black +horses to Dresden and was to receive the money for them in the house +of the Tronkas. He did not understand what the Squire was talking +about, and whether it was Peter or Paul, or the shepherd in Wilsdruf, +who had owned them before the swineherd in Hainichen, was all one to +him so long as they had not been stolen; and with this he went off, +with his whip across his broad back, to a public house which stood in +the square, with the intention of getting some breakfast, as he was +very hungry. + +The Chamberlain, who for the life of him didn't know what he should do +with the horses which the swineherd of Hainichen had sold to the +knacker of Doebeln, unless they were those on which the devil was +riding through Saxony, asked the Squire to say something; but when +the latter with white, trembling lips replied that it would be +advisable to buy the black horses whether they belonged to Kohlhaas or +not, the Chamberlain, cursing the father and mother who had given +birth to the Squire, stepped aside out of the crowd and threw back his +cloak, absolutely at a loss to know what he should do or leave undone. +Defiantly determined not to leave the square just because the rabble +were staring at him derisively and with their handkerchiefs pressed +tight over their mouths seemed to be waiting only for him to depart +before bursting out into laughter, he called to Baron Wenk, an +acquaintance who happened to be riding by, and begged him to stop at +the house of the Lord High Chancellor, Count Wrede, and through the +latter's instrumentality to have Kohlhaas brought there to look at the +black horses. + +When the Baron, intent upon this errand, entered the chamber of the +Lord High Chancellor, it so happened that Kohlhaas was just then +present, having been summoned by a messenger of the court to give +certain explanations of which they stood in need concerning the +deposit in Luetzen. While the Chancellor, with an annoyed look, rose +from his chair and asked the horse-dealer, whose person was unknown to +the Baron, to step to one side with his papers, the latter informed +him of the dilemma in which the lords Tronka found themselves. He +explained that the knacker from Doebeln, acting on a defective +requisition from the court at Wilsdruf, had appeared with horses whose +condition was so frightful that Squire Wenzel could not help +hesitating to pronounce them the ones belonging to Kohlhaas. In case +they were to be taken from the knacker not-withstanding, and an +attempt made to restore them to good condition in the stables of the +knights, an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas would first be necessary in +order to establish the aforesaid circumstance beyond doubt. "Will you +therefore have the goodness," he concluded, "to have a guard fetch the +horse-dealer from his house and conduct him to the market-place where +the horses are standing?" The Lord High Chancellor, taking his glasses +from his nose, said that the Baron was laboring under a double +delusion--first, in thinking that the fact in question could be +ascertained only by means of an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas, and +then, in imagining that he, the Chancellor, possessed the authority to +have Kohlhaas taken by a guard wherever the Squire happened to wish. +With this he presented to him Kohlhaas who was standing behind him, +and sitting down and putting on his glasses again, begged him to apply +to the horse-dealer himself in the matter. + +Kohlhaas, whose expression gave no hint of what was going on in his +mind, said that he was ready to follow the Baron to the market-place +and inspect the black horses which the knacker had brought to the +city. As the disconcerted Baron faced around toward him, Kohlhaas +stepped up to the table of the Chancellor, and, after taking time to +explain to him, with the help of the papers in his wallet, several +matters concerning the deposit in Luetzen, took his leave. The Baron, +who had walked over to the window, his face suffused with a deep +blush, likewise made his adieux, and both, escorted by the three +foot-soldiers assigned by the Prince of Meissen, took their way to the +Palace square attended by a great crowd of people. + +In the mean time the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, in spite of the protests +of several friends who had joined him, had stood his ground among the +people, opposite the knacker of Doebeln. As soon as the Baron and the +horse-dealer appeared he went up to the latter and, holding his sword +proudly and ostentatiously under his arm, asked if the horses standing +behind the wagon were his. + +The horse-dealer, turning modestly toward the gentleman who had asked +him the question and who was unknown to him, touched his hat; then, +without answering, he walked toward the knacker's cart, surrounded by +all the knights. The animals were standing there on unsteady legs, +with heads bowed down to the ground, making no attempt to eat the hay +which the knacker had placed before them. Kohlhaas stopped a dozen +feet away, and after a hasty glance turned back again to the +Chamberlain, saying, "My lord, the knacker is quite right; the horses +which are fastened to his cart belong to me!" As he spoke he looked +around at the whole circle of knights, touched his hat once more, and +left the square, accompanied by his guard. + +At these words the Chamberlain, with a hasty step that made the plume +of his helmet tremble, strode up to the knacker and threw him a purse +full of money. And while the latter, holding the purse in his hand, +combed the hair back from his forehead with a leaden comb and stared +at the money, Sir Kunz ordered a groom to untie the horses and lead +them home. The groom, at the summons of his master, left a group of +his friends and relatives among the crowd; his face flushed slightly, +but he did, nevertheless, go up to the horses, stepping over a big +puddle that had formed at their feet. No sooner, however, had he taken +hold of the halter to untie them, than Master Himboldt, his cousin, +seized him by the arm, and with the words, "You shan't touch the +knacker's jades!" hurled him away from the cart. Then, stepping back +unsteadily over the puddle, the Master turned toward the Chamberlain, +who was standing there, speechless with astonishment at this incident, +and added that he must get a knacker's man to do him such a service as +that. The Chamberlain, foaming with rage, stared at Master Himboldt +for a moment, then turned about and, over the heads of the knights who +surrounded him, called for the guard. When, in obedience to the orders +of Baron Wenk, an officer with some of the Elector's bodyguards had +arrived from the palace, Sir Kunz gave him a short account of the +shameful way in which the burghers of the city permitted themselves to +instigate revolt, and called upon the officer to place the ringleader, +Master Himboldt, under arrest. Seizing the Master by the chest, the +Chamberlain accused him of having maltreated and thrust away from the +cart the groom who, at his orders, was unhitching the black horses. +The Master, freeing himself from the Chamberlain's grasp with a +skilful twist which forced the latter to step back, cried, "My lord, +showing a boy of twenty what he ought to do is not instigating him to +revolt! Ask him whether, contrary to all that is customary and decent, +he cares to have anything to do with those horses that are tied to the +cart. If he wants to do it after what I have said, well and good. For +all I care, he may flay and skin them now." + +At these words the Chamberlain turned round to the groom and asked him +if he had any scruples about fulfilling his command to untie the +horses which belonged to Kohlhaas and lead them home. When the groom, +stepping back among the citizens, answered timidly that the horses +must be made honorable once more before that could be expected of him, +the Chamberlain followed him, tore from the young man's head the hat +which was decorated with the badge of his house, and, after trampling +it under his feet, drew his sword and with furious blows drove the +groom instantly from the square and from his service. Master Himboldt +cried, "Down with the bloodthirsty madman, friends!" And while the +citizens, outraged at this scene, crowded together and forced back the +guard, he came up behind the Chamberlain and threw him down, tore off +his cloak, collar, and helmet, wrenched the sword from his hand, and +dashed it with a furious fling far away across the square. + +In vain did the Squire Wenzel, as he worked his way out of the crowd, +call to the knights to go to his cousin's aid; even before they had +started to rescue him, they had been so scattered by the rush of the +mob that the Chamberlain, who in falling had injured his head, was +exposed to the full wrath of the crowd. The only thing that saved him +was the appearance of a troop of mounted soldiers who chanced to be +crossing the square, and whom the officer of the Elector's body-guards +called to his assistance. The officer, after dispersing the crowd, +seized the furious Master Himboldt, and, while some of the troopers +bore him off to prison, two friends picked up the unfortunate +Chamberlain, who was covered with blood, and carried him home. + +Such was the unfortunate outcome of the well-meant and honest attempt +to procure the horse-dealer satisfaction for the injustice that had +been committed against him. The knacker of Doebeln, whose business was +concluded, and who did not wish to delay any longer, tied the horses +to a lamppost, since the crowd was beginning to scatter, and there +they remained the whole day through without any one's bothering about +them, an object of mockery for the street-arabs and loafers. Finally, +since they lacked any sort of care and attention, the police were +obliged to take them in hand, and, toward evening, the knacker of +Dresden was called to carry them off to the knacker's house outside +the city to await further instructions. + +This incident, as little as the horse-dealer was in reality to blame +for it, nevertheless awakened throughout the country, even among the +more moderate and better class of people, a sentiment extremely +dangerous to the success of his lawsuit. The relation of this man to +the state was felt to be quite intolerable and, in private houses as +well as in public places, the opinion gained ground that it would be +better to commit an open injustice against him and quash the whole +lawsuit anew, rather than, for the mere sake of satisfying his mad +obstinacy, to accord him in so trivial a matter justice which he had +wrung from them by deeds of violence. + +To complete the ruin of poor Kohlhaas, it was the Lord High Chancellor +himself, animated by too great probity, and a consequent hatred of the +Tronka family, who helped strengthen and spread this sentiment. It was +highly improbable that the horses, which were now being cared for by +the knacker of Dresden, would ever be restored to the condition they +were in when they left the stables at Kohlhaasenbrueck. However, +granted that this might be possible by skilful and constant care, +nevertheless the disgrace which, as a result of the existing +circumstances, had fallen upon the Squire's family was so great that, +in consideration of the political importance which the house +possessed--being, as it was, one of the oldest and noblest families in +the land--nothing seemed more just and expedient than to arrange a +money indemnity for the horses. In spite of this, a few days later, +when the President, Count Kallheim, in the name of the Chamberlain, +who was deterred by his sickness, sent a letter to the Chancellor +containing this proposition, the latter did indeed send a +communication to Kohlhaas in which he admonished him not to decline +such a proposition should it be made to him; but in a short and rather +curt answer to the President himself the Chancellor begged him not to +bother him with private commissions in this matter and advised the +Chamberlain to apply to the horse-dealer himself, whom he described as +a very just and modest man. The horse-dealer, whose will was, in fact, +broken by the incident which had occurred in the market-place, was, in +conformity with the advice of the Lord Chancellor, only waiting for an +overture on the part of the Squire or his relatives in order to meet +them half-way with perfect willingness and forgiveness for all that +had happened; but to make this overture entailed too great a sacrifice +of dignity on the part of the proud knights. Very much incensed by the +answer they had received from the Lord Chancellor, they showed the +same to the Elector, who on the morning of the following day had +visited the Chamberlain in his room where he was confined to his bed +with his wounds. + +In a voice rendered weak and pathetic by his condition, the +Chamberlain asked the Elector whether, after risking his life to +settle this affair according to his sovereign's wishes, he must also +expose his honor to the censure of the world and to appear with a +request for relenting and compromise before a man who had brought +every imaginable shame and disgrace on him and his family. + +The Elector, after having read the letter, asked Count Kallheim in an +embarrassed way whether, without further communication with Kohlhaas, +the Tribunal were not authorized to base its decision on the fact that +the horses could not be restored to their original condition, and in +conformity therewith to draw up the judgment just as if the horses +were dead, on the sole basis of a money indemnity. + +The Count answered, "Most gracious sovereign, they are dead; they are +dead in the sight of the law because they have no value, and they will +be so physically before they can be brought from the knacker's house +to the knights' stables." To this the Elector, putting the letter in +his pocket, replied that he would himself speak to the Lord Chancellor +about it. He spoke soothingly to the Chamberlain, who raised himself +on his elbow and seized his hand in gratitude, and, after lingering a +moment to urge him to take care of his health, rose with a very +gracious air and left the room. + +Thus stood affairs in Dresden, when from the direction of Luetzen there +gathered over poor Kohlhaas another thunder-storm, even more serious, +whose lightning-flash the crafty knights were clever enough to draw +down upon the horse-dealer's unlucky head. It so happened that one of +the band of men that Kohlhaas had collected and turned off again after +the appearance of the electoral amnesty, Johannes Nagelschmidt by +name, had found it expedient, some weeks later, to muster again on the +Bohemian frontier a part of this rabble which was ready to take part +in any infamy, and to continue on his own account the profession on +the track of which Kohlhaas had put him. This good-for-nothing fellow +called himself a vicegerent of Kohlhaas, partly to inspire with fear +the officers of the law who were after him, and partly, by the use of +familiar methods, to beguile the country people into participating in +his rascalities. With a cleverness which he had learned from his +master, he had it noised abroad that the amnesty had not been kept in +the case of several men who had quietly returned to their +homes--indeed that Kohlhaas himself had, with a faithlessness which +cried aloud to heaven, been arrested on his arrival in Dresden and +placed under a guard. He carried it so far that, in manifestos which +were very similar to those of Kohlhaas, his incendiary band appeared +as an army raised solely for the glory of God and meant to watch over +the observance of the amnesty promised by the Elector. All this, as we +have already said, was done by no means for the glory of God nor out +of attachment for Kohlhaas, whose fate was a matter of absolute +indifference to the outlaws, but in order to enable them, under cover +of such dissimulation, to burn and plunder with the greater ease and +impunity. + +When the first news of this reached Dresden the knights could not +conceal their joy over the occurrence, which lent an entirely +different aspect to the whole matter. With wise and displeased +allusions they recalled the mistake which had been made when, in spite +of their urgent and repeated warnings, an amnesty had been granted +Kohlhaas, as if those who had been in favor of it had had the +deliberate intention of giving to miscreants of all kinds the signal +to follow in his footsteps. Not content with crediting Nagelschmidt's +pretext that he had taken up arms merely to lend support and security +to his oppressed master, they even expressed the decided opinion that +his whole course was nothing but an enterprise contrived by Kohlhaas +in order to frighten the government, and to hasten and insure the +rendering of a verdict, which, point for point, should satisfy his mad +obstinacy. Indeed the Cup-bearer, Sir Hinz, went so far as to declare +to some hunting-pages and courtiers who had gathered round him after +dinner in the Elector's antechamber that the breaking up of the +marauding band in Luetzen had been but a cursed pretense. He was very +merry over the Lord High Chancellor's alleged love of justice; by +cleverly connecting various circumstances he proved that the band was +still extant in the forests of the Electorate and was only waiting for +a signal from the horse-dealer to break out anew with fire and sword. + +Prince Christiern of Meissen, very much displeased at this turn in +affairs, which threatened to fleck his sovereign's honor in the most +painful manner, went immediately to the palace to confer with the +Elector. He saw quite clearly that it would be to the interest of the +knights to ruin Kohlhaas, if possible, on the ground of new crimes, +and he begged the Elector to give him permission to have an immediate +judicial examination of the horse-dealer. Kohlhaas, somewhat +astonished at being conducted to the Government Office by a constable, +appeared with his two little boys, Henry and Leopold, in his arms; for +Sternbald, his servant, had arrived the day before with his five +children from Mecklenburg, where they had been staying. When Kohlhaas +had started to leave for the Government Office the two boys had burst +into childish tears, begging him to take them along, and various +considerations too intricate to unravel made him decide to pick them +up and carry them with him to the hearing. Kohlhaas placed the +children beside him, and the Prince, after looking benevolently at +them and asking, with friendly interest, their names and ages, went on +to inform Kohlhaas what liberties Nagelschmidt, his former follower, +was taking in the valleys of the Ore Mountains, and handing him the +latter's so-called mandates he told him to produce whatever he had to +offer for his vindication. Although the horse-dealer was deeply +alarmed by these shameful and traitorous papers, he nevertheless had +little difficulty in explaining satisfactorily to so upright a man as +the Prince the groundlessness of the accusations brought against him +on this score. Besides the fact that, so far as he could observe, he +did not, as the matter now stood, need any help as yet from a third +person in bringing about the decision of his lawsuit, which was +proceeding most favorably, some papers which he had with him and +showed to the Prince made it appear highly improbable that +Nagelschmidt should be inclined to render him help of that sort, for, +shortly before the dispersion of the band in Luetzen, he had been on +the point of having the fellow hanged for a rape committed in the +open country, and other rascalities. Only the appearance of the +electoral amnesty had saved Nagelschmidt, as it had severed all +relations between them, and on the next day they had parted as mortal +enemies. + +Kohlhaas, with the Prince's approval of the idea, sat down and wrote a +letter to Nagelschmidt in which he declared that the latter's pretense +of having taken the field in order to maintain the amnesty which had +been violated with regard to him and his band, was a disgraceful and +vicious fabrication. He told him that, on his arrival in Dresden, he +had neither been imprisoned nor handed over to a guard, also that his +lawsuit was progressing exactly as he wished, and, as a warning for +the rabble who had gathered around Nagelschmidt, he gave him over to +the full vengeance of the law for the outrages which he had committed +in the Ore Mountains after the publication of the amnesty. Some +portions of the criminal prosecution which the horse-dealer had +instituted against him in the castle at Luetzen on account of the +above-mentioned disgraceful acts, were also appended to the letter to +enlighten the people concerning the good-for-nothing fellow, who even +at that time had been destined for the gallows, and, as already +stated, had only been saved by the edict issued by the Elector. In +consequence of this letter the Prince appeased Kohlhaas' displeasure +at the suspicion which, of necessity, they had been obliged to express +in this hearing; he went on to declare that, while he remained in +Dresden, the amnesty granted him should not be violated in any way; +then, after presenting to the boys some fruit that was on his table, +he shook hands with them once more, saluted Kohlhaas, and dismissed +him. + +The Lord High Chancellor, who nevertheless recognized the danger that +was threatening the horse-dealer, did his utmost to bring his lawsuit +to an end before it should be complicated and confused by new +developments; this, however, was exactly what the diplomatic knights +desired and aimed at. Instead of silently acknowledging their guilt, +as at first, and obtaining merely a less severe sentence, they now +began with pettifogging and crafty subterfuges to deny this guilt +itself entirely. Sometimes they pretended that the black horses +belonging to Kohlhaas had been detained at Tronka Castle on the +arbitrary authority of the castellan and the steward, and that the +Squire had known little, if anything, of their actions. At other times +they declared that, even on their arrival at the castle, the animals +had been suffering from a violent and dangerous cough, and, in +confirmation of the fact, they referred to witnesses whom they pledged +themselves to produce. Forced to withdraw these arguments after many +long-drawn-out investigations and explanations, they even cited an +electoral edict of twelve years before, in which the importation of +horses from Brandenburg into Saxony had actually been forbidden, on +account of a plague among the cattle. This circumstance, according to +them, made it as clear as day that the Squire not only had the +authority, but also was under obligation, to hold up the horses that +Kohlhaas had brought across the border. Kohlhaas, meanwhile, had +bought back his farm at Kohlhaasenbrueck from the honest bailiff, in +return for a small compensation for the loss sustained. He wished, +apparently in connection with the legal settlement of this business, +to leave Dresden for some days and return to his home, in which +determination, however, the above-mentioned matter of business, +imperative as it may actually have been on account of sowing the +winter crops, undoubtedly played less part than the intention of +testing his position under such unusual and critical circumstances. He +may perhaps also have been influenced by reasons of still another kind +which we will leave to every one who is acquainted with his own heart +to divine. + +In pursuance of this resolve he betook himself to the Lord Chancellor, +leaving behind the guard which had been assigned to him. He carried +with him the letters from the bailiff, and explained that if, as +seemed to be the case, he were not urgently needed in court, he would +like to leave the city and go to Brandenburg for a week or ten days, +within which time he promised to be back again. The Lord High +Chancellor, looking down with a displeased and dubious expression, +replied that he must acknowledge that Kohlhaas' presence was more +necessary just then than ever, as the court, on account of the +prevaricating and tricky tactics of the opposition, required his +statements and explanations at a thousand points that could not be +foreseen. However, when Kohlhaas referred him to his lawyer, who was +well informed concerning the lawsuit, and with modest importunity +persisted in his request, promising to confine his absence to a week, +the Lord Chancellor, after a pause, said briefly, as he dismissed him, +that he hoped that Kohlhaas would apply to Prince Christiern of +Meissen for passports. + +Kohlhaas, who could read the Lord Chancellor's face perfectly, was +only strengthened in his determination. He sat down immediately and, +without giving any reason, asked the Prince of Meissen, as head of the +Government Office, to furnish him passports for a week's journey to +Kohlhaasenbrueck and back. In reply to this letter he received a +cabinet order signed by the Governor of the Palace, Baron Siegfried +Wenk, to the effect that his request for passports to Kohlhaasenbrueck +would be laid before his serene highness the Elector, and as soon as +his gracious consent had been received the passports would be sent to +him. When Kohlhaas inquired of his lawyer how the cabinet order came +to be signed by a certain Baron, Siegfried Wenk, and not by Prince +Christiern of Meissen to whom he had applied, he was told that the +Prince had set out for his estates three days before, and during his +absence the affairs of the Government Office had been put in the hands +of the Governor of the Palace, Baron Siegfried Wenk, a cousin of the +gentleman of the same name who has been already mentioned. + +Kohlhaas, whose heart was beginning to beat uneasily amid all these +complications, waited several days for the decision concerning his +petition which had been laid before the person of the sovereign with +such a surprising amount of formality. A week passed, however, and +more than a week, without the arrival of this decision; nor had +judgment been pronounced by the Tribunal, although it had been +definitely promised him. Finally, on the twelfth day, Kohlhaas, firmly +resolved to force the government to proclaim its intentions toward +him, let them be what they would, sat down and, in an urgent request, +once more asked the Government Office for the desired passports. On +the evening of the following day, which had likewise passed without +the expected answer, he was walking up and down, thoughtfully +considering his position and especially the amnesty procured for him +by Dr. Luther, when, on approaching the window of his little back +room, he was astonished not to see the soldiers in the little +out-building on the courtyard which he had designated as quarters for +the guard assigned him by the Prince of Meissen at the time of his +arrival. He called Thomas, the old porter, to him and asked what it +meant. The latter answered with a sigh, "Sir, something is wrong! The +soldiers, of whom there are more today than usual, distributed +themselves around the whole house when it began to grow dark; two with +shield and spear are standing in the street before the front door, two +are at the back door in the garden, and two others are lying on a +truss of straw in the vestibule and say that they are going to sleep +there." + +Kohlhaas grew pale and turned away, adding that it really did not +matter, provided they were still there, and that when Thomas went down +into the corridor he should place a light so that the soldiers could +see. Then he opened the shutter of the front window under the pretext +of emptying a vessel, and convinced himself of the truth of the +circumstance of which the old man had informed him, for just at that +moment the guard was actually being changed without a sound, a +precaution which had never before entered any one's head as long as +the arrangement had existed. After which, Kohlhaas, having made up his +mind immediately what he would do on the morrow, went to bed, though, +to be sure, he felt little desire to sleep. For nothing in the course +of the government with which he was dealing displeased him more than +this outward form of justice, while in reality it was violating in his +case the amnesty promised him, and in case he were to be considered +really a prisoner--as could no longer be doubted--he intended to wring +from the government the definite and straightforward statement that +such was the case. + +In accordance with this plan, at earliest dawn he had Sternbald, his +groom, harness his wagon and drive up to the door, intending, as he +explained, to drive to Lockwitz to see the steward, an old +acquaintance of his, who had met him a few days before in Dresden and +had invited him and his children to visit him some time. The soldiers, +who, putting their heads together, had watched the stir which these +preparations were causing in the household, secretly sent off one of +their number to the city and, a few minutes later, a government clerk +appeared at the head of several constables and went into the house +opposite, pretending to have some business there. Kohlhaas, who was +occupied in dressing his boys, likewise noticed the commotion and +intentionally kept the wagon waiting in front of the house longer than +was really necessary. As soon as he saw that the arrangements of the +police were completed, without paying any attention to them he came +out before the house with his children. He said, in passing, to the +group of soldiers standing in the doorway that they did not need to +follow him; then he lifted the boys into the wagon and kissed and +comforted the weeping little girls who, in obedience to his orders, +were to remain behind with the daughter of the old porter. He had no +sooner climbed up on the wagon himself than the government clerk, with +the constables who accompanied him, stepped up from the opposite +house and asked where he was going. To the answer of Kohlhaas that he +was going to Lockwitz to see his friend, the steward, who a few days +before had invited him and his two boys to visit him in the country, +the clerk replied that in that case Kohlhaas must wait a few moments, +as some mounted soldiers would accompany him in obedience to the order +of the Prince of Meissen. From his seat on the wagon Kohlhaas asked +smilingly whether he thought that his life would not be safe in the +house of a friend who had offered to entertain him at his table for a +day. + +The official answered in a pleasant, joking way that the danger was +certainly not very great, adding that the soldiers were not to +incommode him in any way. Kohlhaas replied, seriously, that on his +arrival in Dresden the Prince of Meissen had left it to his own choice +whether he would make use of the guard or not, and as the clerk seemed +surprised at this circumstance and with carefully chosen phrases +reminded him that he had employed the guard during the whole time of +his presence in the city, the horse-dealer related to him the incident +which had led to the placing of the soldiers in his house. The clerk +assured him that the orders of the Governor of the Palace, Baron Wenk, +who was at that moment head of the police force, made it his duty to +watch over Kohlhaas' person continually, and begged him, if he would +not consent to the escort, to go to the Government Office himself so +as to correct the mistake which must exist in the matter. Kohlhaas +threw a significant glance at the clerk and, determined to put an end +to the matter by hook or by crook, said that he would do so. With a +beating heart he got down from the wagon, had the porter carry the +children back into the corridor, and while his servant remained before +the house with the wagon, Kohlhaas went off to the Government Office, +accompanied by the clerk and his guard. + +It happened that the Governor of the Palace, Baron Wenk, was busy at +the moment inspecting a band of Nagelschmidt's followers who had been +captured in the neighborhood of Leipzig and brought to Dresden the +previous evening. The knights who were with the Governor were just +questioning the fellows about a great many things which the government +was anxious to learn from them, when the horse-dealer entered the room +with his escort. The Baron, as soon as he caught sight of Kohlhaas, +went up to him and asked him what he wanted, while the knights grew +suddenly silent and interrupted the interrogation of the prisoners. +When Kohlhaas had respectfully submitted to him his purpose of going +to dine with the steward at Lockwitz, and expressed the wish to be +allowed to leave behind the soldiers of whom he had no need, the +Baron, changing color and seeming to swallow some words of a different +nature, answered that Kohlhaas would do well to stay quietly at home +and to postpone for the present the feast at the Lockwitz steward's. +With that he turned to the clerk, thus cutting short the whole +conversation, and told him that the order which he had given him with +regard to this man held good, and that the latter must not leave the +city unless accompanied by six mounted soldiers. + +Kohlhaas asked whether he were a prisoner, and whether he should +consider that the amnesty which had been solemnly promised to him +before the eyes of the whole world had been broken. At which the +Baron, his face turning suddenly a fiery red, wheeled around and, +stepping close up to him and looking him in the eyes, answered, "Yes! +Yes! Yes!" Then he turned his back upon him and, leaving Kohlhaas +standing there, returned to Nagelschmidt's followers. + +At this Kohlhaas left the room, and although he realized that the +steps he had taken had rendered much more difficult the only means of +rescue that remained, namely, flight, he nevertheless was glad he had +done as he had, since he was now, on his part, likewise released from +obligation to observe the conditions of the amnesty. When he reached +home he had the horses unharnessed, and, very sad and shaken, went to +his room accompanied by the government clerk. While this man, in a way +which aroused the horse-dealer's disgust, assured him that it must all +be due to a misunderstanding which would shortly be cleared up, the +constables, at a sign from him, bolted all the exits which led from +the house into the courtyard. At the same time the clerk assured +Kohlhaas that the main entrance at the front of the house still +remained open and that he could use it as he pleased. + +Nagelschmidt, meanwhile, had been so hard pushed on all sides by +constables and soldiers in the woods of the Ore Mountains, that, +entirely deprived, as he was, of the necessary means of carrying +through a role of the kind which he had undertaken, he hit upon the +idea of inducing Kohlhaas to take sides with him in reality. As a +traveler passing that way had informed him fairly accurately of the +status of Kohlhaas' lawsuit in Dresden, he believed that, in spite of +the open enmity which existed between them, he could persuade the +horse-dealer to enter into a new alliance with him. He therefore sent +off one of his men to him with a letter, written in almost unreadable +German, to the effect that if he would come to Altenburg and resume +command of the band which had gathered there from the remnants of his +former troops who had been dispersed, he, Nagelschmidt, was ready to +assist him to escape from his imprisonment in Dresden by furnishing +him with horses, men, and money. At the same time he promised Kohlhaas +that, in the future, he would be more obedient and in general better +and more orderly than he had been before; and to prove his +faithfulness and devotion he pledged himself to come in person to the +outskirts of Dresden in order to effect Kohlhaas' deliverance from his +prison. + +The fellow charged with delivering this letter had the bad luck, in a +village close to Dresden, to be seized with a violent fit, such as he +had been subject to from childhood. In this situation, the letter +which he was carrying in his vest was found by the persons who came to +his assistance; the man himself, as soon as he had recovered, was +arrested and transported to the Government Office under guard, +accompanied by a large crowd of people. As soon as the Governor of the +Palace, Wenk, had read this letter, he went immediately to the palace +to see the Elector; here he found present also the President of the +Chancery of State, Count Kallheim, and the lords Kunz and Hinz, the +former of whom had recovered from his wounds. These gentlemen were of +the opinion that Kohlhaas should be arrested without delay and brought +to trial on the charge of secret complicity with Nagelschmidt. They +went on to demonstrate that such a letter could not have been written +unless there had been preceding letters written by the horse-dealer, +too, and that it would inevitably result in a wicked and criminal +union of their forces for the purpose of plotting fresh iniquities. + +The Elector steadfastly refused to violate, merely on the ground of +this letter, the safe-conduct he had solemnly promised to Kohlhaas. He +was more inclined to believe that Nagelschmidt's letter made it rather +probable that no previous connection had existed between them, and all +he would do to clear up the matter was to assent, though only after +long hesitation, to the President's proposition to have the letter +delivered to Kohlhaas by the man whom Nagelschmidt had sent, just as +though he had not been arrested, and see whether Kohlhaas would answer +it. In accordance with this plan the man, who had been thrown into +prison, was taken to the Government Office the next morning. The +Governor of the Palace gave him back the letter and, promising him +freedom and the remission of the punishment which he had incurred, +commanded him to deliver the letter to the horse-dealer as though +nothing had happened. As was to be expected, the fellow lent himself +to this low trick without hesitation. In apparently mysterious fashion +he gained admission to Kohlhaas' room under the pretext of having +crabs to sell, with which, in reality, the government clerk had +supplied him in the market. Kohlhaas, who read the letter while the +children were playing with the crabs, would certainly have seized the +imposter by the collar and handed him over to the soldiers standing +before his door, had the circumstances been other than they were. But +since, in the existing state of men's minds, even this step was +likewise capable of an equivocal interpretation, and as he was fully +convinced that nothing in the world could rescue him from the affair +in which he was entangled, be gazed sadly into the familiar face of +the fellow, asked him where he lived, and bade him return in a few +hours' time, when he would inform him of his decision in regard to his +master. He told Sternbald, who happened to enter the door, to buy some +crabs from the man in the room, and when this business was concluded +and both men had gone away without recognizing each other, Kohlhaas +sat down and wrote a letter to Nagelschmidt to the following effect: +"First, that he accepted his proposition concerning the leadership of +his band in Altenburg, and that accordingly, in order to free him from +the present arrest in which he was held with his five children, +Nagelschmidt should send him a wagon with two horses to Neustadt near +Dresden. Also that, to facilitate progress, he would need another team +of two horses on the road to Wittenberg, which way, though roundabout, +was the only one he could take to come to him, for reasons which it +would require too much time to explain. He thought that he would be +able to win over by bribery the soldiers who were guarding him, but in +case force were necessary he would like to know that he could count on +the presence of a couple of stout-hearted, capable, and well-armed men +in the suburb of Neustadt. To defray the expenses connected with all +these preparations, he was sending Nagelschmidt by his follower a roll +of twenty gold crowns concerning the expenditure of which he would +settle with him after the affair was concluded. For the rest, +Nagelschmidt's presence being unnecessary, he would ask him not to +come in person to Dresden to assist at his rescue--nay, rather, he +gave him the definite order to remain behind in Altenburg in +provisional command of the band which could not be left without a +leader." + +When the man returned toward evening, he delivered this letter to him, +rewarded him liberally, and impressed upon him that he must take good +care of it. + +Kohlhaas' intention was to go to Hamburg with his five children and +there to take ship for the Levant, the East Indies, or the most +distant land where the blue sky stretched above people other than +those he knew. For his heart, bowed down by grief, had renounced the +hope of ever seeing the black horses fattened, even apart from the +reluctance that he felt in making common cause with Nagelschmidt to +that end. + +Hardly had the fellow delivered this answer of the horse-dealer's to +the Governor of the Palace when the Lord High Chancellor was deposed, +the President, Count Kallheim, was appointed Chief Justice of the +Tribunal in his stead, and Kohlhaas was arrested by a special order of +the Elector, heavily loaded with chains, and thrown into the city +tower. He was brought to trial upon the basis of this letter, which +was posted at every street-corner of the city. When a councilor held +it up before Kohlhaas at the bar of the Tribunal and asked whether he +acknowledged the handwriting, he answered, "Yes;" but to the question +as to whether he had anything to say in his defense, he looked down at +the ground and replied, "No." He was therefore condemned to be +tortured with red-hot pincers by knacker's men, to be drawn and +quartered, and his body to be burned between the wheel and the +gallows. + +Thus stood matters with poor Kohlhaas in Dresden when the Elector of +Brandenburg appeared to rescue him from the clutches of arbitrary, +superior power, and, in a note laid before the Chancery of State in +Dresden, claimed him as a subject of Brandenburg. For the honest City +Governor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, during a walk on the banks of the +Spree, had acquainted the Elector with the story of this strange and +irreprehensible man, on which occasion, pressed by the questions of +the astonished sovereign, he could not avoid mentioning the blame +which lay heavy upon the latter's own person through the unwarranted +actions of his Arch-Chancellor, Count Siegfried von Kallheim. The +Elector was extremely indignant about the matter and after he had +called the Arch-Chancellor to account and found that the relationship +which he bore to the house of the Tronkas was to blame for it all, he +deposed Count Kallheim at once, with more than one token of his +displeasure, and appointed Sir Heinrich von Geusau to be +Arch-Chancellor in his stead. + +Now it so happened that, just at that time, the King of Poland, being +at odds with the House of Saxony, for what occasion we do not know, +approached the Elector of Brandenburg with repeated and urgent +arguments to induce him to make common cause with them against the +House of Saxony, and, in consequence of this, the Arch-Chancellor, Sir +Geusau, who was not unskilful in such matters, might very well hope +that, without imperiling the peace of the whole state to a greater +extent than consideration for an individual warrants, he would now be +able to fulfil his sovereign's desire to secure justice for Kohlhaas +at any cost whatever. + +Therefore the Arch-Chancellor did not content himself with demanding, +on the score of wholly arbitrary procedure, displeasing to God and +man, that Kohlhaas should be unconditionally and immediately surrendered, +so that, if guilty of a crime, he might be tried according to the laws +of Brandenburg on charges which the Dresden Court might bring against him +through an attorney at Berlin; but Sir Heinrich von Geusau even went so +far as himself to demand passports for an attorney whom the Elector of +Brandenburg wished to send to Dresden in order to secure justice for +Kohlhaas against Squire Wenzel Tronka on account of the black horses +which had been taken from him on Saxon territory and other flagrant +instances of ill-usage and acts of violence. The Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, +in the shifting of public offices in Saxony, had been appointed President +of the State Chancery, and, hard pressed as he was, desired, for a +variety of reasons, not to offend the Court of Berlin. He therefore +answered in the name of his sovereign, who had been very greatly cast +down by the note he had received, that they wondered at the unfriendliness +and unreasonableness which had prompted the government of Brandenburg to +contest the right of the Dresden Court to judge Kohlhaas according to +their laws for the crimes which he had committed in the land, as it was +known to all the world that the latter owned a considerable piece of +property in the capital, and he did not himself dispute his qualification +as a Saxon citizen. + +But as the King of Poland was already assembling an army of five +thousand men on the frontier of Saxony to fight for his claims, and as +the Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, declared that +Kohlhaasenbrueck, the place after which the horse-dealer was named, was +situated in Brandenburg, and that they would consider the execution of +the sentence of death which had been pronounced upon him to be a +violation of international law, the Elector of Saxony, upon the advice +of the Chamberlain, Sir Kunz himself, who wished to back out of the +affair, summoned Prince Christiern of Meissen from his estate, and +decided, after a few words with this sagacious nobleman, to surrender +Kohlhaas to the Court of Berlin in accordance with their demand. + +The Prince, who, although very much displeased with the unseemly +blunders which had been committed, was forced to take over the conduct +of the Kohlhaas affair at the wish of his hard-pressed master, asked +the Elector what charge he now wished to have lodged against the +horse-dealer in the Supreme Court at Berlin. As they could not refer +to Kohlhaas' fatal letter to Nagelschmidt because of the questionable +and obscure circumstances under which it had been written, nor +mention the former plundering and burning because of the edict in +which the same had been pardoned, the Elector determined to lay before +the Emperor's Majesty at Vienna a report concerning the armed invasion +of Saxony by Kohlhaas, to make complaint concerning the violation of +the public peace established by the Emperor, and to solicit His +Majesty, since he was of course not bound by any amnesty, to call +Kohlhaas to account therefor before the Court Tribunal at Berlin +through an attorney of the Empire. + +A week later the horse-dealer, still in chains, was packed into a +wagon by the Knight Friedrich of Malzahn, whom the Elector of +Brandenburg had sent to Dresden at the head of six troopers; and, +together with his five children, who at his request had been collected +from various foundling hospitals and orphan asylums, was transported +to Berlin. + +It so happened that the Elector of Saxony, accompanied by the +Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, and his wife, Lady Heloise, daughter of the +High Bailiff and sister of the President, not to mention other +brilliant ladies and gentlemen, hunting-pages and courtiers, had gone +to Dahme at the invitation of the High Bailiff, Count Aloysius of +Kallheim, who at that time possessed a large estate on the border of +Saxony, and, to entertain the Elector, had organized a large stag-hunt +there. Under the shelter of tents gaily decorated with pennons, +erected on a hill over against the highroad, the whole company, still +covered with the dust of the hunt, was sitting at table, served by +pages, while lively music sounded from the trunk of an oak-tree, when +Kohlhaas with his escort of troopers came riding slowly along the road +from Dresden. The sudden illness of one of Kohlhaas' delicate young +children had obliged the Knight of Malzahn, who was his escort, to +delay three whole days in Herzberg. Having to answer for this act only +to the Prince whom he served, the Knight had not thought it necessary +to inform the government of Saxony of the delay. The Elector, with +throat half bare, his plumed hat decorated with sprigs of fir, as is +the way of hunters, was seated beside Lady Heloise, who had been the +first love of his early youth. The charm of the fete which surrounded +him having put him in good humor, he said, "Let us go and offer this +goblet of wine to the unfortunate man, whoever he may be." + +Lady Heloise, casting an entrancing glance at him, got up at once, +and, plundering the whole table, filled a silver dish which a page +handed her with fruit, cakes, and bread. The entire company had +already left the tent in a body, carrying refreshments of every kind, +when the High Bailiff came toward them and with an embarrassed air +begged them to remain where they were. In answer to the Elector's +disconcerted question as to what had happened that he should show such +confusion, the High Bailiff turned toward the Chamberlain and +answered, stammering, that it was Kohlhaas who was in the wagon. At +this piece of news, which none of the company could understand, as it +was well known that the horse-dealer had set out six days before, the +Chamberlain, Sir Kunz, turning back toward the tent, poured out his +glass of wine on the ground. The Elector, flushing scarlet, set his +glass down on a plate which a page, at a sign from the Chamberlain, +held out to him for this purpose, and while the Knight, Friedrich von +Malzahn, respectfully saluting the company, who were unknown to him, +passed slowly under the tent ropes that were stretched across the +highroad and continued on his way to Dahme, the lords and ladies, at +the invitation of the High Bailiff, returned to the tent without +taking any further notice of the party. As soon as the Elector had sat +down again, the High Bailiff dispatched a messenger secretly to Dahme +intending to have the magistrate of that place see to it that the +horse-dealer continued his journey immediately; but since the Knight +of Malzahn declared positively that, as the day was too far gone, he +intended to spend the night in the place, they had to be content to +lodge Kohlhaas quietly at a farm-house belonging to the magistrate, +which lay off the main road, hidden away among the bushes. + +Now it came about toward evening, when all recollection of the +incident had been driven from the minds of the lords and ladies by the +wine and the abundant dessert they had enjoyed, that the High Bailiff +proposed they should again lie in wait for a herd of stags which had +shown itself in the vicinity. The whole company took up the suggestion +joyfully, and after they had provided themselves with guns went off in +pairs, over ditches and hedges, into the near-by forest. Thus it was +that the Elector and Lady Heloise, who was hanging on his arm in order +to watch the sport, were, to their great astonishment, led by a +messenger who had been placed at their service, directly across the +court of the house in which Kohlhaas and the Brandenburg troopers were +lodged. When Lady Heloise was informed of this she cried, "Your +Highness, come!" and playfully concealing inside his silken vest the +chain which hung around his neck she added, "Before the crowd follows +us let us slip into the farm-house and have a look at the singular man +who is spending the night here." The Elector blushed and seized her +hand exclaiming, "Heloise! What are you thinking of?" But as she, +looking at him with amazement, pulled him along and assured him that +no one would ever recognize him in the hunting-costume he had on, and +as, moreover, at this very moment a couple of hunting-pages who had +already satisfied their curiosity came out of the house, and announced +that in truth, on account of an arrangement made by the High Bailiff, +neither the Knight nor the horse-dealer knew what company was +assembled in the neighborhood of Dahme, the Elector pulled his hat +down over his eyes with a smile and said, "Folly, thou rulest the +world, and thy throne is a beautiful woman's mouth!" + +Kohlhaas was sitting just then on a bundle of straw with his back +against the wall, feeding bread and milk to his child who had been +taken ill at Herzberg, when Lady Heloise and the Elector entered the +farm-house to visit him. To start the conversation, Lady Heloise asked +him who he was and what was the matter with the child; also what +crime he had committed and where they were taking him with such an +escort. Kohlhaas doffed his leather cap to her and, continuing his +occupation, made laconic but satisfactory answers to all these +questions. The Elector, who was standing behind the hunting-pages, +remarked a little leaden locket hanging on a silk string around the +horse-dealer's neck, and, since no better topic of conversation +offered itself, he asked him what it signified and what was in it. +Kohlhaas answered, "Oh, yes, worshipful Sir, this locket!" and with +that he slipped it from his neck, opened it, and took out a little +piece of paper with writing on it, sealed with a wafer. "There is a +strange tale connected with this locket. It may be some seven months +ago, on the very day after my wife's funeral--and, as you perhaps +know, I had left Kohlhaasenbrueck in order to get possession of Squire +Tronka, who had done me great wrong--that in the market-town of +Jueterbock, through which my expedition led me, the Elector of Saxony +and the Elector of Brandenburg had met to discuss I know not what +matter. As they had settled it to their liking shortly before evening, +they were walking in friendly conversation through the streets of the +town in order to take a look at the annual fair which was just being +held there with much merry-making. They came upon a gipsy who was +sitting on a stool, telling from the calendar the fortunes of the +crowd that surrounded her. The two sovereigns asked her jokingly if +she did not have something pleasing to reveal to them too? I had just +dismounted with my troop at an inn, and happened to be present in the +square where this incident occurred, but as I was standing at the +entrance of a church, behind all the people, I could not hear what the +strange woman said to the two lords. The people began to whisper to +one another laughingly that she did not impart her knowledge to every +one, and to crowd together to see the spectacle which was preparing, +so that I, really more to make room for the curious than out of +curiosity on my part, climbed on a bench behind me which was carved +in the entrance of the church. From this point of vantage I could see +with perfect ease the two sovereigns and the old woman, who was +sitting on the stool before them apparently scribbling something down. +But hardly had I caught sight of them, when suddenly she got up, +leaning on her crutches, and, gazing around at the people, fixed her +eye on me, who had never exchanged a word with her nor ever in all my +life consulted her art. Pushing her way over to me through the dense +crowd, she said, 'There! If the gentleman wishes to know his fortune, +he may ask you about it!' And with these words, your Worship, she +stretched out her thin bony hands to me and gave me this paper. All +the people turned around in my direction, as I said, amazed, 'Grandam, +what in the world is this you are giving me?' After mumbling a lot of +inaudible nonsense, amid which, however, to my great surprise, I made +out my own name, she answered, 'An amulet, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer; +take good care of it; some day it will save your life!'--and vanished. +Well," Kohlhaas continued good-naturedly, "to tell the truth, close as +was the call in Dresden, I did not lose my life; but how I shall fare +in Berlin and whether the charm will help me out there too, the future +must show." + +At these words the Elector seated himself on a bench, and although to +Lady Heloise's frightened question as to what was the matter with him, +he answered, "Nothing, nothing at all!"--yet, before she could spring +forward and catch him in her arms, he had sunk down unconscious to the +floor. + +The Knight of Malzahn who entered the room at this moment on some +errand, exclaimed, "Good heavens, what is the matter with the +gentleman!" Lady Heloise cried, "Bring some water!" The hunting-pages +raised the Elector and carried him to a bed in the next room, and the +consternation reached its height when the Chamberlain, who had been +summoned by a page, declared, after repeated vain efforts to restore +him to consciousness, that he showed every sign of having been struck +by apoplexy. The Cup-bearer sent a mounted messenger to Luckau for the +doctor, and then, as the Elector opened his eyes, the High Bailiff had +him placed in a carriage and transported at a walk to his +hunting-castle near-by; this journey, however, caused two more +fainting spells after he had arrived there. Not until late the next +morning, on the arrival of the doctor from Luckau, did he recover +somewhat, though showing definite symptoms of an approaching nervous +fever. As soon as he had returned to consciousness he raised himself +on his elbow, and his very first question was, "Where is Kohlhaas?" +The Chamberlain, misunderstanding the question, said, as he took his +hand, that he might set his heart at rest on the subject of that +horrible man, as the latter, after that strange and incomprehensible +incident, had by his order remained behind in the farm-house at Dahme +with the escort from Brandenburg. Assuring the Elector of his most +lively sympathy, and protesting that he had most bitterly reproached +his wife for her inexcusable indiscretion in bringing about a meeting +between him and this man, the Chamberlain went on to ask what could +have occurred during the interview to affect his master so strangely +and profoundly. + +The Elector answered that he was obliged to confess to him that the +sight of an insignificant piece of paper, which the man carried about +with him in a leaden locket, was to blame for the whole unpleasant +incident which had befallen him. To explain the circumstance, he added +a variety of other things which the Chamberlain could not understand, +then suddenly, clasping the latter's hand in his own, he assured him +that the possession of this paper was of the utmost importance to +himself and begged Sir Kunz to mount immediately, ride to Dahme, and +purchase the paper for him from the horse-dealer at any price. The +Chamberlain, who had difficulty in concealing his embarrassment, +assured him that, if this piece of paper had any value for him, +nothing in the world was more necessary than to conceal the fact from +Kohlhaas, for if the latter should receive an indiscreet intimation of +it, all the riches the Elector possessed would not be sufficient to +buy it from the hands of this vindictive fellow, whose passion for +revenge was insatiable. To calm his master he added that they must try +to find another method, and that, as the miscreant probably was not +especially attached to it for its own sake, perhaps, by using +stratagem, they might get possession of the paper, which was of so +much importance to the Elector, through the instrumentality of a third +wholly disinterested person. + +The Elector, wiping away the perspiration, asked if they could not +send immediately to Dahme for this purpose and put a stop to the +horse-dealer's being transported further for the present until, by +some means or other, they had obtained possession of the paper. The +Chamberlain, who could hardly believe his senses, replied that +unhappily, according to all probable calculations, the horse-dealer +must already have left Dahme and be across the border on the soil of +Brandenburg; any attempt to interfere there with his being carried +away, or actually to put a stop to it altogether, would give rise to +difficulties of the most unpleasant and intricate kind, or even to +such as it might perchance be impossible to overcome at all. As the +Elector silently sank back on the pillow with a look of utter despair, +the Chamberlain asked him what the paper contained and by what +surprising and inexplicable chance he knew that the contents concerned +himself. At this, however, the Elector cast several ambiguous glances +at the Chamberlain, whose obligingness he distrusted on this occasion, +and gave no answer. He lay there rigid, with his heart beating +tumultuously, and looked down at the corner of the handkerchief which +he was holding in his hands as if lost in thought. Suddenly he begged +the Chamberlain to call to his room the hunting-page, Stein, an +active, clever young gentleman whom he had often employed before in +affairs of a secret nature, under the pretense that he had some other +business to negotiate with him. + +After he had explained the matter to the hunting-page and impressed +upon him the importance of the paper which was in Kohlhaas' +possession, the Elector asked him whether he wished to win an eternal +right to his friendship by procuring this paper for him before the +horse-dealer reached Berlin. As soon as the page had to some extent +grasped the situation, unusual though it was, he assured his master +that he would serve him to the utmost of his ability. The Elector +therefore charged him to ride after Kohlhaas, and as it would probably +be impossible to approach him with money, Stein should, in a cleverly +conducted conversation, proffer him life and freedom in exchange for +the paper--indeed, if Kohlhaas insisted upon it, he should, though +with all possible caution, give him direct assistance in escaping from +the hands of the Brandenburg troopers who were convoying him, by +furnishing him with horses, men, and money. + +The hunting-page, after procuring as a credential a paper written by +the Elector's own hand, did immediately set out with several men, and +by not sparing the horses' wind he had the good luck to overtake +Kohlhaas in a village on the border, where with his five children and +the Knight of Malzahn he was eating dinner in the open air before the +door of a house. The hunting-page introduced himself to the Knight of +Malzahn as a stranger who was passing by and wished to have a look at +the extraordinary man whom he was escorting. The Knight at once made +him acquainted with Kohlhaas and politely urged him to sit down at the +table, and since Malzahn, busied with the preparations for their +departure, was obliged to keep coming and going continually, and the +troopers were eating their dinner at a table on the other side of the +house, the hunting-page soon found an opportunity to reveal to the +horse-dealer who he was and on what a peculiar mission he had come to +him. + +The horse-dealer already knew the name and rank of the man who, at +sight of the locket in question, had swooned in the farm-house at +Dahme; and to put the finishing touch to the tumult of excitement into +which this discovery had thrown him, he needed only an insight into +the secrets contained in the paper which, for many reasons, he was +determined not to open out of mere curiosity. He answered that, in +consideration of the ungenerous and unprincely treatment he had been +forced to endure in Dresden in return for his complete willingness to +make every possible sacrifice, he would keep the paper. To the +hunting-page's question as to what induced him to make such an +extraordinary refusal when he was offered in exchange nothing less +than life and liberty, Kohlhaas answered, "Noble Sir, if your +sovereign should come to me and say, 'Myself and the whole company of +those who help me wield my sceptre I will destroy--destroy, you +understand, which is, I admit, the dearest wish that my soul +cherishes,' I should nevertheless still refuse to give him the paper +which is worth more to him than life, and should say to him, 'You have +the authority to send me to the scaffold, but I can cause you pain, +and I intend to do so!'" And with these words Kohlhaas, with death +staring him in the face, called a trooper to him and told him to take +a nice bit of food which had been left in the dish. All the rest of +the hour which he spent in the place he acted as though he did not see +the young nobleman who was sitting at the table, and not until he +climbed up on the wagon did he turn around to the hunting-page again +and salute him with a parting glance. + +When the Elector received this news his condition grew so much worse +that for three fateful days the doctor had grave fears for his life, +which was being attacked on so many sides at once. However, thanks to +his naturally good constitution, after several weeks spent in pain on +the sick-bed, he recovered sufficiently, at least, to permit his being +placed in a carriage well supplied with pillows and coverings, and +brought back to Dresden to take up the affairs of government once +more. + +As soon as he had arrived in the city he summoned Prince Christiern +of Meissen and asked him what had been done about dispatching Judge +Eibenmaier, whom the government had thought of sending to Vienna as +its attorney in the Kohlhaas affair, in order to lay a complaint +before his Imperial Majesty concerning the violation of the public +peace proclaimed by the Emperor. + +The Prince answered that the Judge, in conformity with the order the +Elector had left behind on his departure for Dahme, had set out for +Vienna immediately after the arrival of the jurist, Zaeuner, whom the +Elector of Brandenburg had sent to Dresden as his attorney in order to +institute legal proceedings against Squire Wenzel Tronka in regard to +the black horses. + +The Elector flushed and walked over to his desk, expressing surprise +at this haste, since, to his certain knowledge, he had made it clear +that because of the necessity for a preliminary consultation with Dr. +Luther, who had procured the amnesty for Kohlhaas, he wished to +postpone the final departure of Eibenmaier until he should give a more +explicit and definite order. At the same time, with an expression of +restrained anger, he tossed about some letters and deeds which were +lying on his desk. The Prince, after a pause during which he stared in +surprise at his master, answered that he was sorry if he had failed to +give him satisfaction in this matter; however, he could show the +decision of the Council of State enjoining him to send off the +attorney at the time mentioned. He added that in the Council of State +nothing at all had been said of a consultation with Dr. Luther; that +earlier in the affair, it would perhaps have been expedient to pay +some regard to this reverend gentleman because of his intervention in +Kohlhaas' behalf; but that this was no longer the case, now that the +promised amnesty had been violated before the eyes of the world and +Kohlhaas had been arrested and surrendered to the Brandenburg courts +to be sentenced and executed. + +The Elector replied that the error committed in dispatching +Eibenmaier was, in fact, not a very serious one; he expressed a wish, +however, that, for the present, the latter should not act in Vienna in +his official capacity as plaintiff for Saxony, but should await +further orders, and begged the Prince to send off to him immediately +by a courier the instructions necessary to this end. + +The Prince answered that, unfortunately, this order came just one day +too late, as Eibenmaier, according to a report which had just arrived +that day, had already acted in his capacity as plaintiff and had +proceeded with the presentation of the complaint at the State Chancery +in Vienna. In answer to the Elector's dismayed question as to how all +this was possible in so short a time, he added that three weeks had +passed since the departure of this man and that the instructions he +had received had charged him to settle the business with all possible +dispatch immediately after his arrival in Vienna. A delay, the Prince +added, would have been all the more inadvisable in this case, as the +Brandenburg attorney, Zaeuner, was proceeding against Squire Wenzel +Tronka with the most stubborn persistence and had already petitioned +the court for the provisional removal of the black horses from the +hands of the knacker with a view to their future restoration to good +condition, and, in spite of all the arguments of the opposite side, +had carried his point. + +The Elector, ringing the bell, said, "No matter; it is of no +importance," and turning around again toward the Prince asked +indifferently how other things were going in Dresden and what had +occurred during his absence. Then, incapable of hiding his inner state +of mind, he saluted him with a wave of the hand and dismissed him. + +That very same day the Elector sent him a written demand for all the +official documents concerning Kohlhaas, under the pretext that, on +account of the political importance of the affair, he wished to go +over it himself. As he could not bear to think of destroying the man +from whom alone he could receive information concerning the secrets +contained in the paper, he composed an autograph letter to the +Emperor; in this he affectionately and urgently requested that, for +weighty reasons, which possibly he would explain to him in greater +detail after a little while, he be allowed to withdraw for a time, +until a further decision had been reached, the complaint which +Eibenmaier had entered against Kohlhaas. + +The Emperor, in a note drawn up by the State Chancery, replied that +the change which seemed suddenly to have taken place in the Elector's +mind astonished him exceedingly; that the report which had been +furnished him on the part of Saxony had made the Kohlhaas affair a +matter which concerned the entire Holy Roman Empire; that, in +consequence, he, the Emperor, as head of the same, had felt it his +duty to appear before the house of Brandenburg in this, as plaintiff +in this affair, and that, therefore; since the Emperor's counsel, +Franz Mueller, had gone to Berlin in the capacity of attorney in order +to call Kohlhaas to account for the violation of the public peace, the +complaint could in no wise be withdrawn now and the affair must take +its course in conformity with the law. + +This letter completely crushed the Elector and, to his utter dismay, +private communications from Berlin reached him a short time after, +announcing the institution of the lawsuit before the Supreme Court at +Berlin and containing the remark that Kohlhaas, in spite of all the +efforts of the lawyer assigned him, would in all probability end on +the scaffold. The unhappy sovereign determined, therefore, to make one +more effort, and in an autograph letter begged the Elector of +Brandenburg to spare Kohlhaas' life. He alleged as pretext that the +amnesty solemnly promised to this man did not lawfully permit the +execution of a death sentence upon him; he assured the Elector that, +in spite of the apparent severity with which Kohlhaas had been treated +in Saxony, it had never been his intention to allow the latter to die, +and described how wretched he should be if the protection which they +had pretended to be willing to afford the man from Berlin should, by +an unexpected turn of affairs, prove in the end to be more detrimental +to him than if he had remained in Dresden and his affair had been +decided according to the laws of Saxony. + +The Elector of Brandenburg, to whom much of this declaration seemed +ambiguous and obscure, answered that the energy with which the +attorney of his Majesty the Emperor was proceeding made it absolutely +out of the question for him to conform to the wish expressed by the +Elector of Saxony and depart from the strict precepts of the law. He +remarked that the solicitude thus displayed really went too far, +inasmuch as the complaint against Kohlhaas on account of the crimes +which had been pardoned in the amnesty had, as a matter of fact, not +been entered at the Supreme Court at Berlin by him, the sovereign who +had granted the amnesty, but by the supreme head of the Empire who was +in no wise bound thereby. At the same time he represented to him how +necessary it was to make a fearful example of Kohlhaas in view of the +continued outrages of Nagelschmidt, who with unheard-of boldness was +already extending his depredations as far as Brandenburg, and begged +him, in case he refused to be influenced by these considerations, to +apply to His Majesty the Emperor himself, since, if a decree was to be +issued in favor of Kohlhaas, this could only be rendered after a +declaration on his Majesty's part. + +The Elector fell ill again with grief and vexation over all these +unsuccessful attempts, and one morning, when the Chamberlain came to +pay him a visit, he showed him the letters which he had written to the +courts of Vienna and Berlin in the effort to prolong Kohlhaas' life +and thus at least gain time in which to get possession of the paper in +the latter's hands. The Chamberlain threw himself on his knees before +him and begged him by all that he held sacred and dear to tell him +what this paper contained. The Elector bade him bolt the doors of the +room and sit down on the bed beside him, and after he had grasped his +hand and, with a sigh, pressed it to his heart, he began as follows +"Your wife, as I hear, has already told you that the Elector of +Brandenburg and I, on the third day of the conference that we held at +Jueterbock, came upon a gipsy, and the Elector, lively as he is by +nature, determined to destroy by a jest in the presence of all the +people the fame of this fantastic woman, whose art had, +inappropriately enough, just been the topic of conversation at dinner. +He walked up to her table with his arms crossed and demanded from her +a sign--one that could be put to the test that very day--to prove the +truth of the fortune she was about to tell him, pretending that, even +if she were the Roman Sibyl herself, he could not believe her words +without it. The woman, hastily taking our measure from head to foot, +said that the sign would be that, even before we should leave, the big +horned roebuck which the gardener's son was raising in the park, would +come to meet us in the market-place where we were standing at that +moment. Now you must know that this roebuck, which was destined for +the Dresden kitchen, was kept behind lock and key in an inclosure +fenced in with high boards and shaded by the oak-trees of the park; +and since, moreover, on account of other smaller game and birds, the +park in general and also the garden leading to it, were kept carefully +locked, it was absolutely impossible to understand how the animal +could carry out this strange prediction and come to meet us in the +square where we were standing. Nevertheless the Elector, afraid that +some trick might be behind it and determined for the sake of the joke +to give the lie once and for all to everything else that she might +say, sent to the castle, after a short consultation with me, and +ordered that the roebuck be instantly killed and prepared for the +table within the next few days. Then he turned back to the woman +before whom this matter had been transacted aloud, and said, 'Well, go +ahead! What have you to disclose to me of the future?' The woman, +looking at his hand, said, 'Hail, my Elector and Sovereign! Your Grace +will reign for a long time, the house from which you spring will long +endure, and your descendants will be great and glorious and will come +to exceed in power all the other princes and sovereigns of the world.' + +"The Elector, after a pause in which he looked thoughtfully at the +woman, said in an undertone, as he took a step toward me, that he was +almost sorry now that he had sent off a messenger to ruin the +prophecy; and while amid loud rejoicing the money rained down in heaps +into the woman's lap from the hands of the knights who followed the +Elector, the latter, after feeling in his pocket and adding a gold +piece on his own account, asked if the salutation which she was about +to about to reveal to me also had such a silvery sound as his. The +woman opened a box that stood beside her and in a leisurely, precise +way arranged the money in it according to kind and quantity; then she +closed it again, shaded her eyes with her hand as if the sun annoyed +her, and looked at me. I repeated the question I had asked her and, +while she examined my hand, I added jokingly to the Elector, 'To me, +so it seems, she has nothing really agreeable to announce!' At that +she seized her crutches, raised herself slowly with their aid from her +stool, and, pressing close to me with her hands held before her +mysteriously, she whispered audibly in my ear, 'No!' 'Is that so?' I +asked confused, and drew back a step before the figure, who with a +look cold and lifeless as though from eyes of marble, seated herself +once more on the stool behind her; 'from what quarter does danger +menace my house?' The woman, taking a piece of charcoal and a paper in +her hand and crossing her knees, asked whether she should write it +down for me; and as I, really embarrassed, though only because under +the existing circumstances there was nothing else for me to do, +answered, 'Yes, do so,' she replied, 'Very well! Three things I will +write down for you--the name of the last ruler of your house, the year +in which he will lose his throne, and the name of the man who through +the power of arms will seize it for himself.' Having done this before +the eyes of all the people she arose, sealed the paper with a wafer, +which she moistened in her withered mouth, and pressed upon it a +leaden seal ring which she wore on her middle finger. And as I, +curious beyond all words, as you can well imagine, was about to seize +the paper, she said, 'Not so, Your Highness!' and turned and raised +one of her crutches; 'from that man there, the one with the plumed +hat, standing on the bench at the entrance of the church behind all +the people--from him you shall redeem it, if it so please you!' And +with these words, before I had clearly grasped what she was saying, +she left me standing in the square, speechless with astonishment, and, +clapping shut the box that stood behind her and slinging it over her +back, she disappeared in the crowd of people surrounding us, so that I +could no longer watch what she was doing. But at this moment, to my +great consolation, I must admit, there appeared the knight whom the +Elector had sent to the castle, and reported, with a smile hovering on +his lips, that the roebuck had been killed and dragged off to the +kitchen by two hunters before his very eyes. The Elector, gaily +placing his arm in mine with the intention of leading me away from the +square, said, 'Well then, the prophecy was a commonplace swindle and +not worth the time and money which it has cost us!' But how great was +our astonishment when, even before he had finished speaking, a cry +went up around the whole square, and the eyes of all turned toward a +large butcher's dog trotting along from the castle yard. In the +kitchen he had seized the roebuck by the neck as a fair prize, and, +pursued by men-servants and maids, dropped the animal on the ground +three paces in front of us. Thus indeed the woman's prophecy, which +was the pledge for the truth of all that she had uttered, was +fulfilled, and the roebuck, although dead to be sure, had come to the +market-place to meet us. The lightning which falls from heaven on a +winter's day cannot annihilate more completely than this sight did me, +and my first endeavor, as soon as I had excused myself from the +company which surrounded me, was to discover immediately the +whereabouts of the man with the plumed hat whom the woman had pointed +out to me; but none of my people, though sent out on a three days' +continuous search, could give me even the remotest kind of information +concerning him. And then, friend Kunz, a few weeks ago in the +farm-house at Dahme, I saw the man with my own eyes!" + +With these words he let go of the Chamberlain's hand and, wiping away +the perspiration, sank back again on the couch. The Chamberlain, who +considered it a waste of effort to attempt to contradict the Elector's +opinion of the incident or to try to make him adopt his own view of +the matter, begged him by all means to try to get possession of the +paper and afterward to leave the fellow to his fate. But the Elector +answered that he saw absolutely no way of doing so, although the +thought of having to do without it or perhaps even seeing all +knowledge of it perish with this man, brought him to the verge of +misery and despair. When asked by his friend whether he had made any +attempts to discover the person of the gipsy-woman herself, the +Elector replied that the Government Office, in consequence of an order +which he had issued under a false pretext, had been searching in vain +for this woman throughout the Electorate; in view of these facts, for +reasons, however, which he refused to explain in detail, he doubted +whether she could ever be discovered in Saxony. + +Now it happened that the Chamberlain wished to go to Berlin on account +of several considerable pieces of property in the Neumark of +Brandenburg which his wife had fallen heir to from the estate of the +Arch-Chancellor, Count Kallheim, who had died shortly after being +deposed. As Sir Kunz really loved the Elector, he asked, after +reflecting for a short time, whether the latter would leave the matter +to his discretion; and when his master, pressing his hand +affectionately to his breast, answered, "Imagine that you are myself, +and secure the paper for me!" the Chamberlain turned over his affairs +to a subordinate, hastened his departure by several days, left his +wife behind, and set out for Berlin, accompanied only by a few +servants. + +Kohlhaas, as we have said, had meanwhile arrived in Berlin, and by +special order of the Elector of Brandenburg had been placed in a +prison for nobles, where, together with his five children, he was made +as comfortable as circumstances permitted. Immediately after the +appearance of the Imperial attorney from Vienna the horse-dealer was +called to account before the bar of the Supreme Court for the +violation of the public peace proclaimed throughout the Empire, and +although in his answer he objected that, by virtue of the agreement +concluded with the Elector of Saxony at Luetzen, he could not be +prosecuted for the armed invasion of that country and the acts of +violence committed at that time, he was nevertheless told for his +information that His Majesty the Emperor, whose attorney was making +the complaint in this case, could not take that into account. And +indeed, after the situation had been explained to him and he had been +told that, to offset this, complete satisfaction would be rendered to +him in Dresden in his suit against Squire Wenzel Tronka, he very soon +acquiesced in the matter. + +Thus it happened that, precisely on the day of the arrival of the +Chamberlain, judgment was pronounced, and Kohlhaas was condemned to +lose his life by the sword, which sentence, however, in the +complicated state of affairs, no one believed would be carried out, in +spite of its mercy. Indeed the whole city, knowing the good will which +the Elector bore Kohlhaas, confidently hoped to see it commuted by an +electoral decree to a mere, though possibly long and severe, term of +imprisonment. + +The Chamberlain, who nevertheless realized that no time was to be lost +if the commission given him by his master was to be accomplished, set +about his business by giving Kohlhaas an opportunity to get a good +look at him, dressed as he was in his ordinary court costume, one +morning when the horse-dealer was standing at the window of his +prison innocently gazing at the passers-by. As he concluded from a +sudden movement of his head that he had noticed him, and with great +pleasure observed particularly that he put his hand involuntarily to +that part of the chest where the locket was lying, he considered that +what had taken place at that moment in Kohlhaas' soul was a sufficient +preparation to allow him to go a step further in the attempt to gain +possession of the paper. He therefore sent for an old woman who +hobbled around on crutches, selling old clothes; he had noticed her in +the streets of Berlin among a crowd of other rag-pickers, and in age +and costume she seemed to him to correspond fairly well to the woman +described to him by the Elector of Saxony. On the supposition that +Kohlhaas probably had not fixed very deeply in mind the features of +the old gipsy, of whom he had had but a fleeting vision as she handed +him the paper, he determined to substitute the aforesaid woman for her +and, if it were practicable, to have her act the part of the gipsy +before Kohlhaas. In accordance with this plan and in order to fit her +for the role, he informed her in detail of all that had taken place in +Jueterbock between the Elector and the gipsy, and, as he did not know +how far the latter had gone in her declarations to Kohlhaas, he did +not forget to impress particularly upon the woman the three mysterious +items contained in the paper. After he had explained to her what she +must disclose in disconnected and incoherent fashion, about certain +measures which had been taken to get possession, either by strategy or +by force, of this paper which was of the utmost importance to the +Saxon court, he charged her to demand of Kohlhaas that he should give +the paper to her to keep during a few fateful days, on the pretext +that it was no longer safe with him. + +As was to be expected, the woman undertook the execution of this +business at once on the promise of a considerable reward, a part of +which the Chamberlain, at her demand, had to pay over to her in +advance. As the mother of Herse, the groom who had fallen at +Muehlberg, had permission from the government to visit Kohlhaas at +times, and this woman had already known her for several months, she +succeeded a few days later in gaining access to the horse-dealer by +means of a small gratuity to the warden. + +But when the woman entered his room, Kohlhaas, from a seal ring that +she wore on her hand and a coral chain that hung round her neck, +thought that he recognized in her the very same old gipsy-woman who +had handed him the paper in Jueterbock; and since probability is not +always on the side of truth, it so happened that here something had +occurred which we will indeed relate, but at the same time, to those +who wish to question it we must accord full liberty to do so. The +Chamberlain had made the most colossal blunder, and in the aged +old-clothes woman, whom he had picked up in the streets of Berlin to +impersonate the gipsy, he had hit upon the very same mysterious +gipsy-woman whom he wished to have impersonated. At least, while +leaning on her crutches and stroking the cheeks of the children who, +intimidated by her singular appearance, were pressing close to their +father, the woman informed the latter that she had returned to +Brandenburg from Saxony some time before, and that after an unguarded +question which the Chamberlain had hazarded in the streets of Berlin +about the gipsy-woman who had been in Jueterbock in the spring of the +previous year, she had immediately pressed forward to him, and under a +false name had offered herself for the business which he wished to see +done. + +The horse-dealer remarked such a strange likeness between her and his +dead wife Lisbeth that he might have asked the old woman whether she +were his wife's grandmother; for not only did her features and her +hands--with fingers still shapely and beautiful--and especially the +use she made of them when speaking, remind him vividly of Lisbeth; he +even noticed on her neck a mole like one with which his wife's neck +was marked. With his thoughts in a strange whirl he urged the gipsy to +sit down on a chair and asked what it could possibly be that brought +her to him on business for the Chamberlain. + +While Kohlhaas' old dog snuffed around her knees and wagged his tail +as she gently patted his head, the Woman answered that she had been +commissioned by the Chamberlain to inform him what the three questions +of importance for the Court of Saxony were, to which the paper +contained the mysterious answer; to warn him of a messenger who was +then in Berlin for the purpose of gaining possession of it; and to +demand the paper from him on the pretext that it was no longer safe +next his heart where he was carrying it. She said that the real +purpose for which she had come, however, was to tell him that the +threat to get the paper away from him by strategy or by force was an +absurd and empty fraud; that under the protection of the Elector of +Brandenburg, in whose custody he was, he need not have the least fear +for its safety; that the paper was indeed much safer with him than +with her, and that he should take good care not to lose possession of +it by giving it up to any one, no matter on what pretext. +Nevertheless, she concluded, she considered it would be wise to use +the paper for the purpose for which she had given it to him at the +fair in Jueterbock, to lend a favorable ear to the offer which had been +made to him on the frontier through Squire Stein, and in return for +life and liberty to surrender the paper, which could be of no further +use to him, to the Elector of Saxony. + +Kohlhaas, who was exulting over the power which was thus afforded him +to wound the heel of his enemy mortally at the very moment when it was +treading him in the dust, made answer, "Not for the world, grandam, +not for the world!" He pressed the old woman's hand warmly and only +asked to know what sort of answers to the tremendous questions were +contained in the paper. Taking on her lap the youngest child, who had +crouched at her feet, the woman said, "Not for the world, Kohlhaas the +horse-dealer, but for this pretty, fair-haired little lad!" and with +that she laughed softly at the child, petted and kissed him while he +stared at her in wide-eyed surprise, and with her withered hands gave +him an apple which she had in her pocket. Kohlhaas answered, in some +confusion, that the children themselves, when they were grown, would +approve his conduct, and that he could do nothing of greater benefit +to them and their grandchildren than to keep the paper. He asked, +furthermore, who would insure him against a new deception after the +experience he had been through, and whether, in the end, he would not +be making a vain sacrifice of the paper to the Elector, as had lately +happened in the case of the band of troops which he had collected in +Luetzen. "If I've once caught a man breaking his word," said he, "I +never exchange another with him; and nothing but your command, +positive and unequivocal, shall separate me, good grandam, from this +paper through which I have been granted satisfaction in such a +wonderful fashion for all I have suffered." + +The woman set the child down on the floor again and said that in many +respects he was right, and that he could do or leave undone what he +wished; and with that she took up her crutches again and started to +go. Kohlhaas repeated his question regarding the contents of the +wonderful paper; she answered hastily that, of course, he could open +it, although it would be pure curiosity on his part. He wished to find +out about a thousand other things yet, before she left him--who she +really was, how she came by the knowledge resident within her, why she +had refused to give the magic paper to the Elector for whom it had +been written after all, and among so many thousand people had handed +it precisely to him, Kohlhaas, who had never consulted her art. + +Now it happened that, just at that moment, a noise was heard, caused +by several police officials who were mounting the stairway, so that +the woman, seized with sudden apprehension at being found by them in +these quarters, exclaimed, "Good-by for the present, Kohlhaas, good-by +for the present. When we meet again you shall not lack information +concerning all these things." With that she turned toward the door, +crying, "Farewell, children, farewell!" Then she kissed the little +folks one after the other, and went off. + +In the mean time the Elector of Saxony, abandoned to his wretched +thoughts, had called in two astrologers, Oldenholm and Olearius by +name, who at that time enjoyed a great reputation in Saxony, and had +asked their advice concerning the mysterious paper which was of such +importance to him and all his descendants. After making a profound +investigation of several days' duration in the tower of the Dresden +palace, the men could not agree as to whether the prophecy referred to +remote centuries or, perhaps, to the present time, with a possible +reference to the King of Poland, with whom the relations were still of +a very warlike nature. The disquietude, not to say the despair, in +which the unhappy sovereign was plunged, was only increased by such +learned disputes, and finally was so intensified as to seem to his +soul wholly intolerable. In addition, just at this time the +Chamberlain charged his wife that before she left for Berlin, whither +she was about to follow him, she should adroitly inform the Elector, +that, after the failure of an attempt, which he had made with the help +of an old woman who had kept out of sight ever since, there was but +slight hope of securing the paper in Kohlhaas' possession, inasmuch as +the death sentence pronounced against the horse-dealer had now at last +been signed by the Elector of Brandenburg after a minute examination +of all the legal documents, and the day of execution already set for +the Monday after Palm Sunday. At this news the Elector, his heart torn +by grief and remorse, shut himself up in his room like a man in utter +despair and, tired of life, refused for two days to take food; on the +third day he suddenly disappeared from Dresden after sending a short +communication to the Government Office with word that he was going to +the Prince of Dessau's to hunt. Where he actually did go and whether +he did wend his way toward Dessau, we shall not undertake to say, as +the chronicles--which we have diligently compared before reporting +events--at this point contradict and offset one another in a very +peculiar manner. So much is certain: the Prince of Dessau was +incapable of hunting, as he was at this time lying ill in Brunswick at +the residence of his uncle, Duke Henry, and it is also certain that +Lady Heloise on the evening of the following day arrived in Berlin at +the house of her husband, Sir Kunz, the Chamberlain, in the company of +a certain Count von Koenigstein whom she gave out to be her cousin. + +In the mean time, on the order of the Elector of Brandenburg, the +death sentence was read to Kohlhaas, his chains were removed, and the +papers concerning his property, to which papers his right had been +denied in Dresden, were returned to him. When the councilors whom the +court had dispatched to him asked what disposition he wished to have +made of his property after his death, with the help of a notary he +made out a will in favor of his children and appointed his honest +friend, the bailiff at Kohlhaasenbrueck, to be their guardian. After +that, nothing could match the peace and contentment of his last days. +For in consequence of a singular decree extraordinary issued by the +Elector, the prison in which he was kept was soon after thrown open +and free entrance was allowed day and night to all his friends, of +whom he possessed a great many in the city. He even had the further +satisfaction of seeing the theologian, Jacob Freising, enter his +prison as a messenger from Dr. Luther, with a letter from the latter's +own hand--without doubt a very remarkable document which, however, has +since been lost--and of receiving the blessed Holy Communion at the +hands of this reverend gentleman in the presence of two deans of +Brandenburg, who assisted him in administering it. + +Amid general commotion in the city, which could not even yet be weaned +from the hope of seeing him saved by an electoral rescript, there +now dawned the fateful Monday after Palm Sunday, on which Kohlhaas was +to make atonement to the world for the all-too-rash attempt to procure +justice for himself within it. Accompanied by a strong guard and +conducted by the theologian, Jacob Freising, he was just leaving the +gate of his prison with his two lads in his arms--for this favor he +had expressly requested at the bar of the court--when among a +sorrowful throng of acquaintances, who were pressing his hands in +farewell, there stepped up to him, with haggard face, the castellan of +the Elector's palace, and gave him a paper which he said an old woman +had put in his hands for him. The latter, looking in surprise at the +man, whom he scarcely knew, opened the paper. The seal pressed upon +the wafer had reminded him at once of the frequently mentioned +gipsy-woman, but who can describe the astonishment which filled him +when he found the following information contained in it: "Kohlhaas, +the Elector of Saxony is in Berlin; he has already preceded you to the +place of execution, and, if you care to know, can be recognized by a +hat with blue and white plumes. The purpose for which he comes I do +not need to tell you. He intends, as soon as you are buried, to have +the locket dug up and the paper in it opened and read. Your Lisbeth." + +Kohlhaas turned to the castellan in the utmost astonishment and asked +him if he knew the marvelous woman who had given him the note. But +just as the castellan started to answer "Kohlhaas, the woman--" and then +hesitated strangely in the middle of his sentence, the horse-dealer +was borne away by the procession which moved on again at that moment, +and could not make out what the man, who seemed to be trembling in +every limb, finally uttered. + +When Kohlhaas arrived at the place of execution he found there the +Elector of Brandenburg and his suite, among whom was the +Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, halting on horseback, in the +midst of an innumerable crowd of people. On the sovereign's right was +the Imperial attorney, Franz Mueller, with a copy of the death +sentence in his hand; on his left was his own attorney, the jurist +Anton Zaeuner, with the decree of the Court Tribunal at Dresden. In the +middle of the half circle formed by the people stood a herald with a +bundle of articles, and the two black horses, fat and glossy, pawing +the ground impatiently. For the Arch-Chancellor, Sir Heinrich, had won +the suit instituted at Dresden in the name of his master without +yielding a single point to Squire Wenzel Tronka. After the horses had +been made honorable once more by having a banner waved over their +heads, and taken from the knacker, who was feeding them, they had been +fattened by the Squire's servants and then, in the market-place in +Dresden, had been turned over to the attorney in the presence of a +specially appointed commission. Accordingly when Kohlhaas, accompanied +by his guard, advanced to the mound where the Elector was awaiting +him, the latter said, "Well, Kohlhaas, this is the day on which you +receive justice that is your due. Look, I here deliver to you all that +was taken from you by force at the Tronka Castle which I, as your +sovereign, was bound to procure for you again; here are the black +horses, the neck-cloth, the gold gulden, the linen--everything down to +the very amount of the bill for medical attention furnished your +groom, Herse, who fell at Muehlberg. Are you satisfied with me?" + +Kohlhaas set the two children whom he was carrying in his arms down on +the ground beside him, and with eyes sparkling with astonished +pleasure read the decree which was handed to him at a sign from the +Arch-Chancellor. When he also found in it a clause condemning Squire +Wenzel Tronka to a punishment of two years' imprisonment, his feelings +completely overcame him and he sank down on his knees at some distance +from the Elector, with his hands folded across his breast. Rising and +laying his hand on the knee of the Arch-Chancellor, he joyfully +assured him that his dearest wish on earth had been fulfilled; then he +walked over to the horses, examined them and patted their plump +necks, and, coming back to the Chancellor, declared with a smile that +he was going to present them to his two sons, Henry and Leopold! + +The Chancellor, Sir Heinrich von Geusau, looking graciously down upon +him from his horse, promised him in the name of the Elector that his +last wish should be held sacred and asked him also to dispose of the +other articles contained in the bundle, as seemed good to him. +Whereupon Kohlhaas called out from the crowd Herse's old mother, whom +he had caught sight of in the square, and, giving her the things, +said, "Here, grandmother, these belong to you!" The indemnity for the +loss of Herse was with the money in the bundle, and this he presented +to her also, as a gift to provide care and comfort for her old age. +The Elector cried, "Well, Kohlhaas the horse-dealer, now that +satisfaction has been rendered you in such fashion, do you, for your +part, prepare to give satisfaction to His Majesty the Emperor, whose +attorney is standing here, for the violation of the peace he had +proclaimed!" Taking off his hat and throwing it on the ground Kohlhaas +said that he was ready to do so. He lifted the children once more from +the ground and pressed them to his breast; then he gave them over to +the bailiff of Kohlhaasenbrueck, and while the latter, weeping +quietly, led them away from the square, Kohlhaas advanced to the +block. + +He was just removing his neck-cloth and baring his chest when, +throwing a hasty glance around the circle formed by the crowd, he +caught sight of the familiar face of the man with blue and white +plumes, who was standing quite near him between two knights whose +bodies half hid him from view. With a sudden stride which surprised +the guard surrounding him, Kohlhaas walked close up to the man, +untying the locket from around his neck as he did so. He took out the +paper, unsealed it, and read it through; then, without moving his eyes +from the man with blue and white plumes, who was already beginning to +indulge in sweet hopes, he stuck the paper in his mouth and swallowed +it. At this sight the man with blue and white plumes was seized with +convulsions and sank down unconscious. While his companions bent over +him in consternation and raised him from the ground, Kohlhaas turned +toward the scaffold, where his head fell under the axe of the +executioner. + +Here ends the story of Kohlhaas. Amid the general lamentations of the +people his body was placed in a coffin, and while the bearers raised +it from the ground and bore it away to the graveyard in the suburbs +for decent burial, the Elector of Brandenburg called to him the sons +of the dead man and dubbed them knights, telling the Arch-Chancellor +that he wished them to be educated in his school for pages. + +The Elector of Saxony, shattered in body and mind, returned shortly +afterward to Dresden; details of his subsequent career there must be +sought in history. + +Some hale and happy descendants of Kohlhaas, however, were still +living in Mecklenburg in the last century. + + + + +THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG + + + DRAMATIS PERSONAE + + FREDERICK WILLIAM, _Elector of Brandenburg_. + + THE ELECTRESS. + + PRINCESS NATALIE OF ORANGE, _his niece, + Honorary Colonel of a regiment of Dragoons_. + + FIELD-MARSHAL DOeRFLING. + + PRINCE FREDERICK ARTHUR OF HOMBURG, + _General of cavalry_. + + COLONEL KOTTWITZ, of the regiment + of the Princess of Orange. + + HENNINGS + COUNT TRUCHSZ _Infantry Colonels_. + + COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, _of the Elector's suite_. + + VON DER GOLZ } + COUNT GEORGE VON SPARREN STRANZ } + SIEGFRIED VON MOeRNER } _Captains of Cavalry_ + COUNT REUSS } + A SERGEANT } + + + _Officers. Corporals and troopers. + Ladies- and Gentlemen-in-waiting. + Pages. Lackeys. Servants. People + of both sexes, young and old_. + + _Time_: 1675. + + + +THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG (1810) + +By HEINRICH VON KLEIST + +TRANSLATED BY HERMANN HAGEDORN, A.B. + +Author of _A Troop of the Guard and Other Poems_ + + +ACT I + +_Scene: Fehrbellin. A garden laid out in the old French style. In the +background, a palace with a terrace from which a broad stair descends. +It is night._ + + +SCENE I + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _sits with head bare and shirt unbuttoned, +half-sleeping, half waking, under an oak, binding a wreath. The_ +ELECTOR, ELECTRESS, PRINCESS NATALIE, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN GOLZ +_and others come stealthily out of the palace and look down upon him +from the balustrade of the terrace. Pages with torches._ + + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Prince of Homburg, our most valiant cousin, + Who these three days has pressed the flying Swedes + Exultant at the cavalry's forefront, + And scant of breath only today returned + To camp at Fehrbellin--your order said + That he should tarry here provisioning + Three hours at most, and move once more apace + Clear to the Hackel Hills to cope with Wrangel, + Seeking to build redoubts beside the Rhyn? + +ELECTOR. 'Tis so. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Now having charged the commandants + Of all his squadrons to depart the town + Obedient to the plan, sharp ten at night, + He flings himself exhausted on the straw + Like a hound panting, his exhausted limbs + To rest a little while against the fight + Which waits us at the glimmering of dawn. + +ELECTOR. I heard so! Well? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Now when the hour strikes + And in the stirrup now the cavalry + Expectant paws the ground before the gates-- + Who still absents himself The Prince of Homburg, + Their chief. With lights they seek the valiant man, + With torches, lanterns, and they find him--where? + + [_He takes a torch from the hand of a page._] + + As a somnambulist, look, on that bench, + Whither in sleep, as you would ne'er believe, + The moonshine lured him, vaguely occupied + Imagining himself posterity + And weaving for his brow the crown of fame. + +ELECTOR. What! + +HOHENZOLL. Oh, indeed! Look down here: there he sits! + + [_From the terrace he throws the light on the_ PRINCE.] + +ELECTOR. In slumber sunk? Impossible! + +HOHENZOLLERN. In slumber + Sunk as he is, speak but his name--he drops. + + [_Pause._] + +ELECTRESS. Sure as I live, the youth is taken ill. + +NATALIE. He needs a doctor's care-- + +ELECTRESS. We should give help, + Not waste time, gentlemen, meseems, in scorn. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_handing back the torch_). + He's sound, you tender-hearted women folk, + By Jove, as sound as I! He'll make the Swede + Aware of that upon tomorrow's field. + It's nothing more, and take my word for it, + Than a perverse and silly trick of the mind. + +ELECTOR. By faith, I thought it was a fairy-tale! + Follow me, friends, we'll take a closer look. + + [_They descend from the terrace._] + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING (_to the pages_). + Back with the torches! + +[Illustration: #THE ROYAL CASTLE AT BERLIN#] + +HOHENZOLLERN. Leave them, leave them, friends! + These precincts might roar up to heaven in fire + And his soul be no more aware of it + Than the bright stone he wears upon his hand. + + [_They surround him, the pages illuminating the scene._] + +ELECTOR (_bending over the_ PRINCE). + What leaf is it he binds? Leaf of the willow? + +HOHENZOLL. What! Willow-leaf, my lord? It is the bay, + Such as his eyes have noted on the portraits + Of heroes hung in Berlin's armor-hall. + +ELECTOR. Where hath he found that in my sandy soil? + +HOHENZOLL. The equitable gods may guess at that! + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + It may be in the garden, where the gardener + Has nurtured other strange, outlandish plants. + +ELECTOR. Most curious, by heaven! But what's the odds? + I know what stirs the heart of this young fool. + +HOHENZOLL. Indeed! Tomorrow's clash of arms, my liege! + Astrologers, I'll wager, in his mind + Are weaving stars into a triumph wreath. + + [_The_ PRINCE _regards the wreath._] + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. Now it is done! + +HOHENZOLLERN. A shame, a mortal shame, + That there's no mirror in the neighborhood! + He would draw close to it, vain as any girl, + And try his wreath on, thus, and then again + This other way--as if it were a bonnet! + +ELECTOR. By faith! But I must see how far he'll go! + +[_The_ ELECTOR _takes the wreath from the_ PRINCE'S _hand while the +latter regards him, flushing. The_ ELECTOR _thereupon twines his +neck-chain about the wreath and gives it to the_ PRINCESS. _The_ +PRINCE _rises in excitement, but the_ ELECTOR _draws back with the_ +PRINCESS, _still holding the wreath aloft. The_ PRINCE _follows her +with outstretched arms._] + +THE PRINCE (_whispering_). + Natalie! Oh, my girl! Oh, my beloved! + +ELECTOR. Make haste! Away! + +HOHENZOLLERN. What did the fool say? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. What? + + [_They all ascend the stair to the terrace._] + +THE PRINCE. Frederick, my prince! my father! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Hell and devils! + +ELECTOR (_backing away from him_). + Open the gate for me! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, mother mine! + +HOHENZOLL. The raving idiot! + +ELECTRESS. Whom did he call thus? + +THE PRINCE (_clutching at the wreath_). + Beloved, why do you recoil? My Natalie! + + [_He snatches a glove from the_ PRINCESS' _hand._] + +HOHENZOLL. Heaven and earth! What laid he hands on there? + +COURTIER. The wreath? + +NATALIE. No, no! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_opening the door_). Hither! This way, my + liege! + So the whole scene may vanish from his eye! + +ELECTOR. Back to oblivion, with you, oblivion, + Sir Prince of Homburg! On the battle-field, + If you be so disposed, we meet again! + Such matters men attain not in a dream! + +[_They all go out; the door crashes shut in the_ PRINCE'S _face. +Pause._] + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _remains standing before the door a moment in +perplexity; then dreamily descends from the terrace, the hand holding +the glove pressed against his forehead. At the foot of the stair he +turns again, gazing up at the door._ + + + +SCENE III + +_Enter_ COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _by the wicket below. A page follows him. +The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. + +PAGE (Softly). + Count! Listen, do! Most worshipful Sir + Count! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_vexed_). + Grasshopper! Well? What's wanted? + +PAGE. I am sent-- + +HOHENZOLL. Speak softly now, don't wake him with your chirping! + Come now! What's up? + +PAGE. The Elector sent me hither. + He charges you that, when the Prince awakes, + You breathe no word to him about the jest + It was his pleasure to allow himself. + +HOHENZOLLERN (softly). + You skip off to the wheatfield for some sleep. + I knew that, hours ago. So run along. + + + + SCENE IV + +COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _and the_ PRINCE of HOMBURG. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_taking a position some distance behind the_ PRINCE _who + is still gazing fixedly up toward the terrace_). + Arthur! + + [_The_ PRINCE _drops to the ground._] + + And there he lies! + You could not do it better with a bullet. + + [_He approaches him._] + + Now I am eager for the fairy-tale + He'll fabricate to show the reason why + Of all the world he chose this place to sleep in. + + [_He bends over him._] + + Arthur! Hi! Devil's own! What are you up to? + What are you doing here at dead of night? + +THE PRINCE. Ah, dear, old fellow! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, I'm hanged! See here! + The cavalry's a full hour down the road + And you, their colonel, you lie here and sleep. + +THE PRINCE. What cavalry? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Mamelukes, of course! + Sure as I live and breathe, the man's forgot + That he commands the riders of the Mark! + +THE PRINCE (rising). + My helmet, quick then! My cuirass! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Where are they? + +THE PRINCE. Off to the right there, Harry.--On the stool. + +HOHENZOLL. Where? On the stool? + +THE PRINCE. I laid them there, I thought-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him). + Then go and get them from the stool yourself. + +THE PRINCE. What's this glove doing here + + [He stares at the glove in his hand.] + +HOHENZOLLERN. How should I know? + [Aside.] Curses! He must have torn that + unobserved from the lady niece's arm. [Abruptly.] Quick + now, be off! + What are you waiting for? + +THE PRINCE (casting the glove away again). + I'm coming, coming. + Hi, Frank! The knave I told to wake me must + have-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him). + It's raving mad he is! + +THE PRINCE. Upon my oath, Harry, my dear, I don't know where I am. + +HOHENZOLL. In Fehrbellin, you muddle-headed dreamer-- + You're in a by-path of the Castle gardens. + +THE PRINCE (to himself). + Engulf me, Night! Unwittingly once more + In slumber through the moonshine have I + strayed! [He pulls himself together.] + Forgive me! Now I know! Last night, recall, + The heat was such one scarce could lie in bed. + I crept exhausted hither to this garden, + And because Night with so sweet tenderness + Encompassed me, fair-haired and odorous Night-- + Even as the Persian bride wraps close her lover, + Lo, here I laid my head upon her lap. + What is the clock now? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Half an hour of midnight. + +THE PRINCE. And you aver the troops are on the march? + +HOHENZOLL. Upon my word, sharp, stroke of ten, as planned. + The Princess Orange regiment in van, + By this undoubtedly has reached the heights + Of Hackelwitz, there in the face of Wrangel + To cloak the army's hid approach at dawn. + +THE PRINCE. Well, no harm's done. Old Kottwitz captains her + And he knows every purpose of this march. + I should have been compelled, at all events + By two, to come back hither for the council: + Those were the orders. So it's just as well + I stayed in the beginning. Let's be off. + The Elector has no inkling? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bah! How should he? + He's tight abed and snoozing long ago. + + [_They are about to depart when the_ PRINCE _starts, turns, and picks + up the glove_.] + +THE PRINCE. I dreamed such an extraordinary dream! + It seemed as though the palace of a king, + Radiant with gold and silver, suddenly + Oped wide its doors, and from its terrace high + The galaxy of those my heart loves best + Came down to me: + The Elector and his Lady and the--third-- + What is her name? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Whose? + +THE PRINCE (_searching his memory_). Why, the one I mean! + A mute must find his tongue to speak her name. + +HOHENZOLL. The Platen girl? + +THE PRINCE. Come, come, now! + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Ramin + +THE PRINCE. No, no, old fellow! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bork? Or Winterfeld? + +THE PRINCE. No, no! My word! You fail to see the pearl + For the bright circlet that but sets it off! + +HOHENZOLL. Damn it, then, tell me! I can't guess the face! + What lady do you mean? + +THE PRINCE. Well, never mind. + The name has slipped from me since I awoke, + And goes for little in the story. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, + Let's have it then! + +THE PRINCE. But now, don't interrupt me!-- + And the Elector of the Jovelike brow, + Holding a wreath of laurel in his hand, + Stands close beside me, and the soul of me + To ravish quite, twines round the jeweled band + That hangs about his neck, and unto one + Gives it to press upon my locks--Oh, friend! + +HOHENZOLL. To whom? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend! + +HOHENZOLLERN. To whom then? Come, speak up! + +THE PRINCE. I think it must have been the Platen girl. + +HOHENZOLL. Platen? Oh, bosh! Not she who's off in Prussia? + +THE PRINCE. Really, the Platen girl. Or the Ramin? + +HOHENZOLL. Lord, the Ramin! She of the brick-red hair? + The Platen girl with those coy, violet eyes-- + They say you fancy _her_. + +THE PRINCE. I fancy her-- + +HOHENZOLL. So, and you say she handed you the wreath? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, like some deity of fame she lifts + High up the circlet with its dangling chain + As if to crown a hero. I stretch forth, + Oh, in delight unspeakable, my hands + I stretch to seize it, yearning with my soul + To sink before her feet. But as the odor + That floats above green valleys, by the wind's + Cool breathing is dispelled, the group recedes + Up the high terrace from me; lo, the terrace + Beneath my tread immeasurably distends + To heaven's very gate. I clutch at air + Vainly to right, to left I clutch at air, + Of those I loved hungering to capture one. + In vain! The palace portal opes amain. + A flash of lightning from within engulfs them; + Rattling, the door flies to. Only a glove + I ravish from the sweet dream-creature's arm + In passionate pursuing; and a glove, + By all the gods, awaking, here I hold! + +HOHENZOLL. Upon my word--and, you assume, the glove + Must be her glove? + +THE PRINCE. Whose? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Well, the Platen girl's. + +THE PRINCE. Platen! Of course. Or could it be Ramin's + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a laugh_). + Rogue that you are with your mad fantasies! + Who knows from what exploit delectable + Here in a waking hour with flesh and blood + The glove sticks to your hand, now? + +THE PRINCE. Eh? What? I? + With all my love-- + +HOHENZOLLERN. Oh, well then, what's the odds? + Call it the Platen lady, or Ramin. + There is a Prussian post on Sunday next, + So you can find out by the shortest way + Whether your lady fair has lost a glove. + Off! Twelve o'clock! And we stand here and jaw! + +THE PRINCE (_dreamily into space_). + Yes, you are right. Come, let us go to bed. + But as I had it on my mind to say-- + Is the Electress who arrived in camp + Not long since with her niece, the exquisite + Princess of Orange, is she still about? + +HOHENZOLL. Why?--I declare the idiot thinks-- + +THE PRINCE. Why? + I've orders to have thirty mounted men + Escort them safely from the battle-lines. + Ramin has been detailed to lead them. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Bosh! + They're gone long since, or just about to go. + The whole night long, Ramin, all rigged for flight, + Has hugged the door. But come. It's stroke o' twelve. + And I, for one, before the fight begins, + I want to get some sleep. + + + +SCENE V + +_The same. Hall in the palace. In the distance, the sound of cannon. +The ELECTRESS and PRINCESS NATALIE, dressed for travel, enter, +escorted by a gentleman-in-waiting, and sit down at the side. +Ladies-in-waiting. A little later the ELECTOR enters with +FIELD-MARSHAL. DOeRFLING, the PRINCE OF HOMBURG with the glove in his +collar, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, COUNT TRUCHSZ, COLONEL HENNINGS, +TROOP-CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ and several other generals, colonels and +minor officers._ + +ELECTOR. What is that cannonading?--Is it Goetz? + +DOeRFLING. It's Colonel Goetz, my liege, who yesterday + Pushed forward with the van. An officer + Has come from him already to allay + Your apprehensions ere they come to birth. + A Swedish outpost of a thousand men + Has pressed ahead into the Hackel Hills, + But for those hills Goetz stands security + And sends me word that you should lay your plans + As though his van already held them safe. + +ELECTOR (_to the officers_). + The Marshal knows the plan. Now, gentlemen, + I beg you take your pens and write it down. + +[_The officers assemble on the other side about the_ FIELD-MARSHAL, +_and take out their tablets. The_ ELECTOR _turns to a +gentleman-in-waiting_.] + +Ramin is waiting with the coach outside? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. +At once, my sovereign. They are hitching now. + +ELECTOR (_seating himself on a chair behind the_ ELECTRESS _and the_ +PRINCESS). + Ramin shall escort my beloved wife, + Convoyed by thirty sturdy cavalrymen. + To Kalkhuhn's, to the chancellor's manor-house. + At Havelberg beyond the Havel, go. + There's not a Swede dare show his face there now. + +ELECTRESS. The ferry is restored? + +ELECTOR. At Havelberg? + I have arranged for it. The day will break + In all events before you come to it. + + [_Pause_.] + + You are so quiet, Natalie, my girl? + What ails the child? + +NATALIE. Uncle, I am afraid. + +ELECTOR. And yet my little girl was not more safe + In her own mother's lap than she is now. + + [_Pause_.] + +ELECTRESS. When do you think that we shall meet again? + +ELECTOR. If God grants me the victory, as I + Doubt not He will, in a few days, perhaps. + +[_Pages enter and serve the ladies refreshments_. FIELD-MARSHAL +DOeRFLING _dictates. The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG, _pen and tablet in hand, +stares at the ladies_.] + +MARSHAL. The battle-plan his Highness has devised + Intends, my lords, in order that the Swedes' + Fugitive host be utterly dispersed, + The severing of their army from the bridges + That guard their rear along the river Rhyn. + Thus Colonel Hennings-- + +HENNINGS. Here! + + [_He writes_.] + +MARSHAL. Who by the will + Of his liege lord commands the army's right, + Shall seek by stealthy passage through the bush + To circumscribe the enemy's left wing, + Fearlessly hurl his force between the foe + And the three bridges; then, joined with Count Truchsz-- + Count Truchsz! + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Here! + +MARSHAL. Thereupon, joined with Count Truchsz-- + + [_He pauses_.] + + Who, meanwhile, facing Wrangel on the heights + Has gained firm footing with his cannonry-- + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Firm footing with his cannonry-- + +MARSHAL. You hear it?-- + + [_Proceeding_.] + + Attempt to drive the Swedes into the swamp + Which lies behind their right. + + [_A lackey enters_.] + + LACKEY. Madam, the coach is at the door. + + [_The ladies rise_.] + +MARSHAL. The Prince of Homburg-- + +ELECTOR (_also rising_). Is Ramin at hand? + +LACKEY. He's in the saddle, waiting at the gates. + + [_The royalties take leave of one another_.] + +TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Which lies behind their right. + +MARSHAL. The Prince of Homburg-- + Where is the Prince of Homburg? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_in a whisper_). Arthur! + +THE PRINCE (_with a start_). Here! + +HOHENZOLL. Have you gone mad? + +THE PRINCE. My Marshal, to command! + +[_He flushes, and, taking out pen and parchment, writes._] + +MARSHAL. To whom His Highness, trusting that he lead + His force to glory as at Rathenow, + Confides the mounted squadrons of the Mark + + [_He hesitates._] + + Though in no way disprizing Colonel Kottwitz + Who shall be aid in counsel and right hand-- + + [_To_ CAPTAIN GOLZ _in a low voice._] + + Is Kottwitz here? + +GOLZ. No, General. He has, + You note, dispatched me hither in his place + To take the battle order from your lips. + + [_The_ PRINCE _gazes over toward the ladies again._] + +MARSHAL (_continuing_). + Takes station in the plain near Hackelwitz + Facing the right wing of the enemy + Well out of range of the artillery fire. + +GOLZ (_writing_). Well out of range of the artillery fire. + +[_The_ ELECTRESS _ties a scarf about the_ PRINCESS' _throat. The_ +PRINCESS, _about to draw on a glove, looks around as if she were in +search of something._] + +ELECTOR (_approaches her_). + Dear little girl of mine, what have you lost? + +ELECTRESS. What are you searching for? + +NATALIE. Why, Auntie dear, + My glove! I can't imagine-- + + [_They all look about._] + +ELECTOR (_to the ladies-in-waiting_). Would you mind?-- + +ELECTRESS (_to the_ PRINCESS). It's in your hand. + +NATALIE. The right glove; but the left? + +ELECTOR. You may have left it in your bedroom. + +NATALIE. Oh, + Bork, if you will? + +ELECTOR _(to the lady-in-waiting)_. Quick, quick! + +NATALIE. Look on the mantel. + + [_The lady-in-waiting goes out.-] + +THE PRINCE _(aside)_. + Lord of my life? Could I have heard aright? + + [_He draws the glove from his collar._] + +MARSHAL _(looking down at the paper which he holds in + his hand)_. + Well out of range of the artillery fire. + + [_Continuing_.] + + The Prince's Highness-- + +THE PRINCE _(regarding now the glove, now the PRINCESS)_. + It's this glove she's seeking-- + +MARSHAL. At our lord sovereign's express command-- + +GOLZ _(writing)_. At our lord sovereign's express command-- + +MARSHAL. Whichever way the tide of battle turn + Shall budge not from his designated place. + +THE PRINCE. Quick! Now I'll know in truth if it be hers. + +_[He lets the glove fall, together with his handkerchief; then +recovers the handkerchief but leaves the glove lying where everybody +can see it.]_ + +MARSHAL _(piqued)_. What is His Highness up to? + +HOHENZOLLERN _(aside)_. Arthur! + +THE PRINCE. Here! + +HOHENZOLL. Faith, you're possessed! + +THE PRINCE. My Marshal, to command! + + _[He takes up pen and tablet once more. The_ MARSHAL _regards him an + instant, questioningly. Pause.]_ + +GOLZ _(reading, after he has finished writing)_. + Shall budge not from his designated place. + +MARSHAL (continues). + Until, hard pressed by Hennings and by + Truchsz-- + +THE PRINCE (looking over GOLZ's shoulder). + Who, my dear Golz? What? I? + +GOLZ. Why, yes. Who else + +THE PRINCE. I shall not budge-- + +GOLZ. That's it. + +MARSHAL. Well, have you got it + +THE PRINCE (aloud). + Shall budge not from my designated place. + + [He writes.] + +MARSHAL. Until, hard pressed by Hennings and by + Truchsz-- [He pauses.] + The left wing of the enemy, dissolved, + Plunges upon its right, and wavering + The massed battalions crowd into the plain, + Where, in the marsh, criss-crossed by ditch on ditch, + The plan intends that they be wholly crushed. + +ELECTOR. Lights, pages! Come, my dear, your arm, + and yours. + +[He starts to go out with the ELECTRESS and the PRINCESS.] + +MARSHAL. Then he shall let the trumpets sound the + charge. + +ELECTRESS (as several officers, bowing and scraping, bid her + farewell). + Pray, let me not disturb you, gentlemen.-- + Until we meet again! + + [The MARSHAL also bids her good-by.] + +ELECTOR (suddenly standing still). Why, here we are! + The lady's glove. Come, quick now! There it is. + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. Where? + +ELECTOR. At our cousin's, at Prince Homburg's feet. + +THE PRINCE. What! At my feet! The glove? It is your own? + + [He picks it up and brings it to the PRINCESS.] + +NATALIE. I thank you, noble Prince. + +THE PRINCE (confused). Then it is yours? + +NATALIE. Yes, it is mine; it is the one I lost. + + [She takes it and draws it on.] + +ELECTRESS (turning to the PRINCESS, she goes out). + Farewell! Farewell! Good luck! God keep you safe! + See that erelong we joyously may meet! + + +[The ELECTOR goes out with the ladies. Attendants, courtiers and pages +follow.] + + +THE PRINCE (stands an instant as though struck by a bolt + from heaven; then with triumphant step he + returns to the group of officers). + Then he shall let the trumpets sound the charge! + + [He, pretends to write.] + +MARSHAL (looking down at his paper). + Then he shall let the trumpets sound the charge.-- + However, the Elector's Highness, lest + Through some mistake the blow should fall too soon-- + + [He pauses.] + +GOLZ (writes). Through some mistake the blow should fall + too soon-- + +THE PRINCE (aside to COUNT HOHENZOLLERN in great + perturbation). + Oh, Harry! + +HOHENZOLLERN (impatiently). + What's up now? What's in your head? + +THE PRINCE. Did you not see? + +HOHENZOLLERN. In Satan's name, shut up! + +MARSHAL (continuing). + Shall send an officer of his staff to him; + Who, mark this well, shall finally transmit + The order for the charge against the foe. + Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge. + + [The PRINCE gazes dreamily into space.] + + Well, have you got it? + +GOLZ (_writes_). Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge. + +MARSHAL (_in raised tone_). + Your Highness has it down? + +THE PRINCE. Marshal? + +MARSHAL. I asked + If you had writ it down? + +THE PRINCE. About the trumpets? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_aside, with emphatic indignation_). + Trumpets be damned! Not till the order-- + +GOLZ (_in the same tone_). Not + Till he himself-- + +THE PRINCE (_interrupting_). Naturally not, before-- + But then he'll let the trumpets sound the + charge. + + [_He writes. Pause._] + +MARSHAL. And I desire--pray note it, Baron Golz-- + Before the action opens, to confer + With Colonel Kottwitz, if it can be done. + +GOLZ (_significantly_). He shall receive your message. Rest assured. + + [_Pause._] + +ELECTOR (_returning_). + What now, my colonels and my generals! + The morning breaks. Have you the orders down? + +MARSHAL. The thing is done, my liege. Your battle-plan + Is in all points made clear to your commanders. + +ELECTOR (_picking up his hat and gloves_). + And you, I charge, Prince Homburg, learn control! + Recall, you forfeited two victories + Of late, upon the Rhine, so keep your head! + Make me not do without the third today. + My land and throne depend on it, no less. + + [_To the officers._] + Come!--Frank! + +A GROOM (_entering_). Here! + +ELECTOR. Quick there! Saddle me my gray! + I will be on the field before the sun! + +[_He goes out, followed by generals, colonels and minor officers._] + + + + SCENE VI + +THE PRINCE (_coming forward_). + Now, on thine orb, phantasmic creature, Fortune, + Whose veil a faint wind's breathing even now + Lifts as a sail, roll hither! Thou hast touched + My hair in passing; as thou hovered'st near + Already from thy horn of plenty thou + Benignantly hast cast me down a pledge. + Child of the gods, today, O fugitive one, + I will pursue thee on the field of battle, + Seize thee, tear low thy horn of plenty, pour + Wholly thy radiant blessings round my feet, + Though sevenfold chains of iron bind thee fast + To the triumphant chariot of the Swede! + + [_Exit._] + + + +ACT II + +_Scene: Battlefield of Fehrbellin._ + +SCENE I + +COLONEL KOTTWITZ, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ _and other +officers enter at the head of the cavalry._ + + +KOTTWITZ (_outside_). Halt! Squadron, halt! Dismount! + +HOHENZOLLERN AND GOLZ (_entering_). Halt, halt! + +KOTTWITZ. Hey, friends, who'll help me off my horse? + +HOHENZOLLERN AND GOLZ. Here--here! + + [_They step outside again._] + +KOTTWITZ (_still outside_). + Thanks to you-ouch! Plague take me! May a son + Be giv'n you for your pains, a noble son + Who'll do the same for you when you grow sear. + +[He enters, followed by_ HOHENZOLLERN, GOLZ _and others._] + + Oh, in the saddle I am full of youth! + When I dismount, though, there's a battle on + As though the spirit and the flesh were parting, + In wrath. [_Looking about._] Where is our + chief, the Prince's Highness? + +HOHENZOLL. The Prince will momentarily return. + +KOTTWITZ. Where has he gone? + HOHENZOLLERN. He rode down to a hamlet, + In foliage hidden, so you passed it by. + He will return erelong. + +OFFICER. Last night, they say, + His horse gave him a tumble. + +HOHENZOLLERN. So they say. + +KOTTWITZ. He fell? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_turning_). A matter of no consequence. + His horse shied at the mill, but down his flank + He lightly slipped and did himself no harm. + It is not worth the shadow of a thought. + +KOTTWITZ (_ascending a slight elevation_). + A fine day, as I breathe the breath of life! + A day our God, the lofty Lord of earth, + For sweeter things than deadly combat made. + Ruddily gleams the sunlight through the clouds + And with the lark the spirit flutters up + Exultant to the joyous airs of heaven! + +GOLZ. Did you succeed in finding Marshal Dorfling? + +KOTTWITZ (_coming forward_). + The Devil, no! What does my lord expect? + Am I a bird, an arrow, an idea, + That he should bolt me round the entire field? + I was at Hackel hillock with the van + And with the rearguard down in Hackel vale. + The one man whom I saw not was the Marshal! + Wherefore I made my way back to my men. + +GOLZ. He will be ill-content. He had, it seemed, + A matter of some import to confide. + +OFFICER. His Highness comes, our commandant, the Prince! + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _with a black bandage on his left hand. The +others as before._ + +KOTTWITZ. My young and very noble prince, God greet you! + Look, how I formed the squadrons down that road + While you were tarrying in the nest below. + I do believe you'll say I've done it well. + +THE PRINCE. Good morning, Kottwitz! And good morning, friends! + You know that I praise everything you do. + +HOHENZOLL. What were you up to in the village, Arthur? + You seem so grave. + +THE PRINCE. I--I was in the chapel + That beckoned through the placid village trees; + The bells were ringing, calling men to prayers, + As we passed by, and something urged me on + To kneel before the altar, too, and pray. + +KOTTWITZ. A pious gentleman for one so young! + A deed, believe me, that begins with prayer + Must end in glory, victory, and fame. + +THE PRINCE. Oh, by the way, I wanted to inquire-- + + [_He draws the_ COUNT _forward a step._] + + Harry, what was it Dorfling said last night + In his directions, that applied to me? + +HOHENZOLL. You were distraught. I saw that well enough. + +THE PRINCE. Distraught--divided! I scarce know what ailed me. + Dictation always sets my wits awry. + +HOHENZOLL. Not much for you this time, as luck would have it. + Hennings and Truchsz, who lead the infantry, + Are designated to attack the foe, + And you are ordered here to halt and stay, + Ready for instant action with the horse, + Until an order summon you to charge. + +THE PRINCE (_after a pause, dreamily_). + A curious thing! + +HOHENZOLLERN. To what do you refer? + + [_He looks at him. A cannon-shot is heard._] + +KOTTWITZ. Ho, gentlemen! Ho, sirs! To horse, to horse! + That shot is Hennings', and the fight is on! + + [_They all ascend a slight elevation._] + +THE PRINCE. Who is it? What? + +HOHENZOLLERN. It's Colonel Hennings, Arthur, + He's stolen his way about to Wrangel's rear. + Come, you can watch the entire field from here. + +GOLZ (_on the hillock_). + At the Rhyn there, how terribly he uncoils! + +THE PRINCE (_shading his eyes with his hand_). + Is Hennings over there on our right wing? + +1ST OFFICER. Indeed, Your Highness. + +THE PRINCE. What the devil then + Why, yesterday he held our army's right. + + [_Cannonade in the distance._] + +KOTTWITZ. Thunder and lightning! Wrangel's cutting loose + At Hennings' now, from twelve loud throats of fire. + +1ST OFFICER. I call those _some_ redoubts the Swedes have there! + +2D OFFICER. By heaven, look, they top the very spire + Rising above the hamlet at their back! + + [_Shots near-by._] + +GOLZ. That's Truchsz! + +THE PRINCE. Truchsz? + +KOTTWITZ. To be sure! Of course, it's Truchsz, + Approaching from the front to his support. + +THE PRINCE. What's Truchsz there in the centre for, today? + + [_Loud cannonading._] + +GOLZ. Good heavens, look. The village is afire! + +3D OFFICER. Afire, as I live! + +1ST OFFICER. Afire! Afire! + The flames are darting up the steeple now! + +GOLZ. Hey! How the Swedish aides fly right and left! + +2D OFFICER. They're in retreat! + +KOTTWITZ. Where? + +1ST OFFICER. There, at their right flank! + +3D OFFICER. In masses! Sure enough! Three regiments! + The intention seems to be to brace the left. + +2D OFFICER. My faith! And now the horse are ordered out + To screen the right living's march! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a laugh_). Hi! How they'll scamper + When they get ware of us here in the vale! + + [_Musketry fire._] + +KOTTWITZ. Look, brothers, look! + +2D OFFICER. Hark! + +1ST OFFICER. Fire of musketry! + +3D OFFICER. They're at each other now in the redoubts! + +GOLZ. My God, in my born days I never heard + Such thunder of artillery! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Shoot! Shoot! + Burst open wide the bowels of the earth! + The cleft shall be your corpses' sepulchre! + + [_Pause. Shouts of victory in the distance._] + +1ST OFFICER. Lord in the heavens, who grants men victories! + Wrangel is in retreat already! + +HOHENZOLLERN. No! + +GOLZ. By heaven, friends! Look! There on his left + flank! + He's drawing back his guns from the redoubts! + +ALL. Oh, triumph! Triumph! Victory is ours! + +THE PRINCE (_descending from the hillock_). + On, Kottwitz, follow me! + +KOTTWITZ. Come, cool now--cool! + +THE PRINCE. On! Let the trumpets sound the charge! + And on! + +KOTTWITZ. Cool, now, I say. + +THE PRINCE (_wildly_). + By heaven and earth and hell! + +KOTTWITZ. Our liege's Highness in the ordinance + Commanded we should wait his orders here. + Golz, read the gentlemen the ordinance. + +THE PRINCE. Orders? Eh, Kottwitz, do you ride so slow? + Have you not heard the orders of your heart? + +KOTTWITZ. Orders? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Absurd! + +KOTTWITZ. The orders of my heart? + +HOHENZOLL. Listen to reason, Arthur! + +GOLZ. Here, my chief! + +KOTTWITZ (_offended_). + Oh, ho! you give me that, young gentleman?--The + nag you dance about on, at a pinch + I'll tow him home yet at my horse's tail! + March, march, my gentlemen! Trumpets, the + charge! + On to the battle, on! Kottwitz is game! + +GOLZ (_to_ KOTTWITZ). + Never, my colonel, never! No, I swear! + +2D OFFICER. Remember, Hennings' not yet at the Rhyn! + +1ST OFFICER. Relieve him of his sword! + +THE PRINCE. My sword, you say? + + [_He pushes him back_.] + + Hi, you impertinent boy, who do not even + Know yet the Ten Commandments of the Mark! + Here is your sabre, and the scabbard with it! + +[_He tears off the officer's sword together with the belt_.] + +1ST OFFICER (_reeling_). + By God, Prince, that's-- + +THE PRINCE (_threateningly_). + If you don't hold your tongue-- + +HOHENZOLLERN (_to the officer_). + Silence! You must be mad! + +THE PRINCE (_giving up the sword_). + Ho, corporal's guard! + Off to headquarters with the prisoner! + + [_To_ KOTTWITZ _and the other officers_.] + + Now, gentlemen, the countersign: A knave + Who follows not his general to the fight!-- + Now, who dares lag? + +KOTTWITZ. You heard. Why thunder more? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_mollifying_). + It was advice, no more, they sought to give. + +KOTTWITZ. On your head be it. I go with you. + +THE PRINCE (_somewhat calmed_). Come! + Be it upon my head then. Follow, brothers! + + [_Exeunt_.] + + + +SCENE III + +_A room in a village. A gentleman-in-waiting, booted and spurred, +enters. A peasant and his wife are sitting at a table, at work._ + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + God greet you, honest folk! Can you make room + To shelter guests beneath your roof? + +PEASANT. Indeed! + Gladly, indeed! + +THE WIFE. And may one question, whom? + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. + The highest lady in the land, no less. + Her coach broke down outside the village gates, + And since we hear the victory is won + There'll be no need for farther journeying. + +BOTH (_rising_). + The victory won? Heaven! + +GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. What! You haven't heard? + The Swedish army's beaten hip and thigh; + If not forever, for the year at least + The Mark need fear no more their fire and sword!-- + Here comes the mother of our people now. + + + +SCENE IV + +_The_ ELECTRESS, _pale and distressed, enters with the_ PRINCESS +NATALIE, _followed by various ladies-in-waiting. The others as +before._ + +ELECTRESS (_on the threshold_). + Bork! Winterfeld! Come! Let me have your arm. + +NATALIE (_going to her_). + Oh, mother mine! + +LADIES-IN-WAITING. Heavens, how pale! She is faint. + + [_They support her._] + +ELECTRESS. Here, lead me to a chair, I must sit down. + Dead, said he--dead? + +NATALIE. Mother, my precious mother! + +ELECTRESS. I'll see this bearer of dread news myself. + + + + +SCENE V + +CAPTAIN VON MOeRNER _enters, wounded, supported by two troopers. The +others._ + +ELECTRESS. Oh, herald of dismay, what do you bring? + +MOeRNER. Oh, precious Madam, what these eyes of mine + To their eternal grief themselves have seen! + +ELECTRESS. So be it! Tell! + +MOeRNER. The Elector is no more. + +NATALIE. Oh, heaven + Shall such a hideous blow descend on us? + + [_She hides her face in her hands._] + +ELECTRESS. Give me report of how he came to fall-- + And, as the bolt that strikes the wanderer, + In one last flash lights scarlet-bright the world, + So be your tale. When you are done, may night + Close down upon my head. + +MOeRNER (_approaching her, led by the two troopers_). + The Prince of Homburg, + Soon as the enemy, hard pressed by Truchsz, + Reeling broke cover, had brought up his troops + To the attack of Wrangel on the plain; + Two lines he'd pierced and, as they broke, destroyed, + When a strong earthwork hemmed his way; and thence + So murderous a fire on him beat + That, like a field of grain, his cavalry, + Mowed to the earth, went down; twixt bush and hill + He needs must halt to mass his scattered corps. + +NATALIE (_to the_ ELECTRESS). + Dearest, be strong! + +ELECTRESS. Stop, dear. Leave me alone. + +MOeRNER. That moment, watching, clear above the dust, + We see our liege beneath the battle-flags + Of Truchsz's regiments ride on the foe. + On his white horse, oh, gloriously he rode, + Sunlit, and lighting the triumphant plain. + Heart-sick with trepidation at the sight + Of him, our liege, bold in the battle's midst, + We gather on a hillock's beetling brow; + When of a sudden the Elector falls, + Horseman and horse, in dust before our eyes. + Two standard-bearers fell across his breast + And overspread his body with their flags. + +NATALIE. Oh, mother mine! + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. Oh, heaven! + +ELECTRESS. Go on, go on! + +MOeRNER. At this disastrous spectacle, a pang + Unfathomable seized the Prince's heart; + Like a wild beast, spurred on of hate and vengeance, + Forward he lunged with us at the redoubt. + Flying, we cleared the trench and, at a bound, + The shelt'ring breastwork, bore the garrison down, + Scattered them out across the field, destroyed; + Capturing the Swede's whole panoply of war-- + Cannon and standards, kettle-drums and flags. + And had the group of bridges at the Rhyn + Hemmed not our murderous course, not one had lived + Who might have boasted at his father's hearth + At Fehrbellin I saw the hero fall! + +ELECTRESS. Triumph too dearly bought! I like it not. + Give me again the purchase-price it cost. + + [_She falls in a faint._] + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. + Help, God in heaven! Her senses flee from + her. + + [NATALIE _is weeping._] + + + +SCENE VI + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _enters. The others._ + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Natalie, my dearest! + + [_Greatly moved, he presses her hand to his heart._] + +NATALIE. Then it is true? + +THE PRINCE. Could I but answer No! + Could I but pour my loyal heart's blood out + To call his loyal heart back into life! + +NATALIE (_drying her tears_). + Where is his body? Have they found it yet? + +THE PRINCE. Until this hour, alas, my labor was + Vengeance on Wrangle only; how could I + Then dedicate myself to such a task? + A horde of men, however, I sent forth + To seek him on the battle-plains of death. + Ere night I do not doubt that he will come. + +NATALIE. Who now will lead us in this terrible war + And keep these Swedes in subjugation? Who + Shield us against this world of enemies + His fortune won for us, his high renown? + +THE PRINCE (_taking her hand_). + I, lady, take upon myself your cause! + Before the desolate footsteps of your throne + I shall stand guard, an angel with a sword! + The Elector hoped, before the year turned tide, + To see the Marches free. So be it! I + Executor will be of that last will. + +NATALIE. My cousin, dearest cousin! + + [_She withdraws her hand._] + +THE PRINCE. Natalie! + + [_A moment's pause._] + +What holds the future now in store for you? + +NATALIE. After this thunderbolt which cleaves the ground + Beneath my very feet, what can I do? + My father and my precious mother rest + Entombed at Amsterdam; in dust and ashes + Dordrecht, my heritage ancestral lies. + Pressed hard by the tyrannic hosts of Spain + Maurice, my kin of Orange, scarcely knows + How he shall shelter his own flesh and blood. + And now the last support that held my fate's + Frail vine upright falls from me to the earth. + Oh, I am orphaned now a second time! + +THE PRINCE (_throwing his arm about her waist_). + Oh, friend, sweet friend, were this dark hour not given + To grief, to be its own, thus would I speak + Oh, twine your branches here about this breast, + Which, blossoming long years in solitude, + Yearns for the wondrous fragrance of your bells. + +NATALIE. My dear, good cousin! + +THE PRINCE. Will you, will you? + +NATALIE. Ah, + If I might grow into its very marrow! + + [_She lays her head upon his breast._] + +THE PRINCE. What did you say + +NATALIE. Go now! + +THE PRINCE (_holding her_). Into its kernel! + Into the heart's deep kernel, Natalie! + + [_He kisses her. She tears herself away.] + + Dear God, were he for whom we grieve but here + To look upon this union! Could we lift + To him our plea: Father, thy benison! + +[_He hides his face in his hands;_ NATALIE _turns again to the_ +ELECTRESS.] + + + +SCENE VII + +_A sergeant enters in haste. The others as before._ + +SERGEANT. By the Almighty God, my Prince, I scarce + Dare bring to you the rumor that's abroad!-- + The Elector lives! + +THE PRINCE. He lives! + +SERGEANT. By heaven above! + Count Sparren brought the joyful news but now! + +NATALIE. Lord of my days! Oh, mother, did you hear? + +[_She falls down at the feet of the ELECTRESS and embraces her._] + +THE PRINCE. But say! Who brings the news + +SERGEANT. Count George of Sparren, + Who saw him, hale and sound, with his own eyes + At Hackelwitz amid the Truchszian corps. + +THE PRINCE. Quick! Run, old man! And bring him in to me! + + [_The_ SERGEANT _goes out._] + + + +SCENE VIII + +COUNT SPARREN _and the Sergeant enter. The others as before._ + +ELECTRESS. Oh, do not cast me twice down the abyss! + +NATALIE. No, precious mother mine! + +ELECTRESS. And Frederick lives? + +NATALIE (_holding her up with both hands_). + The peaks of life receive you once again! + +SERGEANT (_entering_). + Here is the officer! + +THE PRINCE. Ah, Count von Sparren! + You saw His Highness fresh and well disposed + At Hackelwitz amid the Truchszian corps? + +SPARREN. Indeed, Your Highness, in the vicarage court + Where, compassed by his staff, he gave commands + For burial of both the armies' dead. + +LADIES-IN-WAITING. + Dear heaven! On thy breast-- + + [_They embrace._] + +ELECTRESS. My daughter dear! + +NATALIE. Oh, but this rapture is well-nigh too great! + + [_She buries her face in her aunt's lap._] + +THE PRINCE. Did I not see him, when I stood afar + Heading my cavalry, dashed down to earth, + His horse and he shivered by cannon-shot? + +SPARREN. Indeed, the horse pitched with his rider down, + But he who rode him, Prince, was not our liege. + +THE PRINCE. What? Not our liege? + +NATALIE. Oh, wonderful! + +[_She rises and remains standing beside the_ ELECTRESS.] + +THE PRINCE. Speak then! + Weighty as gold each word sinks to my heart. + +SPARREN. Then let me give you tidings of a deed + So moving, ear has never heard its like. + Our country's liege, who, to remonstrance deaf, + Rode his white horse again, the gleaming white + That Froben erstwhile bought for him in England, + Became once more, as ever was the case, + The target for the foe's artillery. + Scarce could the members of his retinue + Within a ring of hundred yards approach + About there and about, a stream of death, + Hurtled grenades and cannon-shot and shell. + They that had lives to save fled to its banks. + He, the strong swimmer, he alone shrank not, + But beckoning his friends, unswervingly + Made toward the high lands whence the river came. + +THE PRINCE. By heaven, i' faith! A gruesome sight it was! + +SPARREN. Froben, the Master of the Horse who rode + Closest to him of all, called out to me + "Curses this hour on this white stallion's hide, + I bought in London for a stiff round sum! + I'd part with fifty ducats, I'll be bound, + Could I but veil him with a mouse's gray." + With hot misgiving he draws near and cries, + "Highness, your horse is skittish; grant me leave + To give him just an hour of schooling more." + And leaping from his sorrel at the word + He grasps the bridle of our liege's beast. + Our liege dismounts, still smiling, and replies + "As long as day is in the sky, I doubt + If he will learn the art you wish to teach. + But give your lesson out beyond those hills + Where the foe's gunners will not heed his fault." + Thereon he mounts the sorrel, Froben's own, + Returning thence to where his duty calls. + But scarce is Froben mounted on the white + When from a breastwork, oh! a murder-shell + Tears him to earth, tears horse and rider low. + A sacrifice to faithfulness, he falls; + And from him not a sound more did we hear. + + [_Brief pause._] + +THE PRINCE. He is well paid for! Though I had ten lives + I could not lose them in a better cause! + +NATALIE. Valiant old Froben! + +ELECTRESS (_in tears_). Admirable man! + +NATALIE (_also weeping_). + A meaner soul might well deserve our tears! + +THE PRINCE. Enough! To business! Where's the Elector then + Is Hackelwitz headquarters? + +SPARREN. Pardon, sir! + The Elector has proceeded to Berlin + And begs his generals thence to follow him. + +THE PRINCE. What? To Berlin? You mean the war is done? + +SPARREN. Indeed, I marvel that all this is news. + Count Horn, the Swedish general, has arrived; + And, following his coming, out of hand + The armistice was heralded through camp. + A conference, if I discern aright + The Marshal's meaning, is attached thereto + Perchance that peace itself may follow soon. + +ELECTRESS (_rising_). + Dear God, how wondrously the heavens clear! + +THE PRINCE. Come, let us follow straightway to Berlin. + 'Twould speed my journey much if you could spare + A little space for me within your coach?-- + I've just a dozen words to write to Kottwitz, + And on the instant I'll be at your side. + + [_He sits down and writes._] + +ELECTRESS. Indeed, with all my heart! + +THE PRINCE (_folds the note and gives it to the Sergeant; + then, as he turns again to the ELECTRESS, + softly lays his arm about NATALIE's waist_). + I have a wish, + A something timorously to confide + I thought I might give vent to on the road. + +NATALIE (_tearing herself away_). + Bork! Quick! My scarf, I beg-- + +ELECTRESS. A wish to me? + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING. + Princess, the scarf is round your neck. + +THE PRINCE (_to the_ ELECTRESS). Indeed! + Can you not guess? + +ELECTRESS. No-- + +THE PRINCE. Not a syllable? + +ELECTRESS (_abruptly_). + What matter? Not a suppliant on earth + Could I deny today, whate'er he ask, + And you, our battle-hero, least of all! + Come! + +THE PRINCE. Mother! Oh, what did you speak? Those words-- + May I interpret them to suit me best? + +ELECTRESS. Be off, I say! More, later, as we ride! + Come, let me have your arm. + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Caesar Divus! + Lo, I have set a ladder to thy star! + + [_He leads the ladies out. Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE IX + +_Scene: Berlin. Pleasure garden outside the old palace. In the +background the palace chapel with a staircase leading up to it. +Tolling of bells. The church is brightly illuminated. The body of_ +FROBEN _is carried by and set on a splendid catafalque. The_ ELECTOR, +FIELD-MARSHAL DOeRFLING, COLONEL HENNINGS, COUNT TRUCHSZ _and several +other colonels and minor officers enter. From the opposite side enter +various officers with dispatches. In the church as well as in the +square are men, women and children of all ages._ + +ELECTOR. What man soever led the cavalry + Upon the day of battle, and, before + The force of Colonel Hennings could destroy + The bridges of the foe, of his own will + Broke loose, and forced the enemy to flight + Ere I gave order for it, I assert + That man deserves that he be put to death; + I summon him therefore to be court-martialed.-- + Prince Homburg, then, you say, was not the man? + +TRUCHSZ. No, my liege lord! + +ELECTOR. What proof have you of that? + +TRUCHSZ. Men of the cavalry can testify, + Who told me of 't before the fight began: + The Prince fell headlong from his horse, and, hurt + At head and thigh, men found him in a church + Where some one bound his deep and dangerous wounds. + +ELECTOR. Enough! Our victory this day is great, + And in the church tomorrow will I bear + My gratitude to God. Yet though it were + Mightier tenfold, still would it not absolve + Him through whom chance has granted it to me. + More battles still than this have I to fight, + And I demand subjection to the law. + Whoever led the cavalry to battle, + I reaffirm has forfeited his head, + And to court-martial herewith order him.-- + Come, follow me, my friends, into the church. + + + +SCENE X + +_The_ PRINCE of HOMBURG _enters bearing three Swedish flags, followed +by_ COLONEL KOTTWITZ, _bearing two,_ COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN GOLZ, +COUNT REUSS, _each with a flag; and several other officers, corporals, +and troopers carrying flags, kettle-drums and standards._ + +DOeRFLING (_spying the_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG). + The Prince of Homburg!--Truchsz! What did you mean? + +ELECTOR (_amazed_). + Whence came you, Prince? + +THE PRINCE (_stepping forward a few paces_). + From Fehrbellin, my liege, + And bring you thence these trophies of success! + +[_He lays the three flags before him; the officers, corporals and +troopers do likewise, each with his own._] + +ELECTOR (_frigidly_). + I hear that you are wounded, dangerously? + Count Truchsz! + +THE PRINCE (_gaily_). Forgive! + +COUNT TRUCHSZ. By heaven, I'm amazed! + +THE PRINCE. My sorrel fell before the fight began. + This hand a field-leech bandaged up for me + Scarce merits that you call it wounded. + +ELECTOR. So? + In spite of it you led the cavalry? + +THE PRINCE (_regarding him_). + I? Indeed, I! Must you learn that from me? + Here at your feet I laid the proof of that. + +ELECTOR. Relieve him of his sword. He is a prisoner. + +DOeRFLING (_taken aback_). + Whom? +ELECTOR (_stepping among the flags_). + Ah, God greet you, Kottwitz! + +TRUCHSZ (_aside_). Curses on it! + +KOTTWITZ. By God, I'm utterly-- + +ELECTOR (_looking at him_). What did you say? + Look, what a crop mown for our glory here!-- + That flag is of the Swedish Guards, is't not? + + [_He takes up a flag, unwinds it and studies it._] + +KOTTWITZ. My liege? + +DOeRFLING. My lord and master? + +ELECTOR. Ah, indeed! + And from the time of Gustaf Adolf too. + How runs the inscription? + +KOTTWITZ. I believe-- + +DOeRFLING. "_Per aspera ad astra_!" + +ELECTOR. That was not verified at Fehrbellin. + + [_Pause._] + +KOTTWITZ (_hesitantly_). + My liege, grant me a word. + +ELECTOR. What is 't you wish? + Take all the things-flags, kettle-drums and standards, + And hang them in the church. I plan tomorrow + To use them when we celebrate our triumph! + +[_The ELECTOR turns to the couriers, takes their dispatches, opens and + reads them._] + +KOTTWITZ (_aside_). + That, by the living God, that is too much! + +[_After some hesitation, the Colonel takes up his two flags; the other +officers and troopers follow suit. Finally, as the three flags of the_ +PRINCE _remain untouched, he takes up these also, so that he is now +bearing five._] + +AN OFFICER (_stepping up to the_ PRINCE). + Prince, I must beg your sword. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_carrying his flag_). Quiet now, friend. + +THE PRINCE. Speak! Am I dreaming? Waking? Living? Sane? + +GOLZ. Prince, give your sword, I counsel, and say nothing. + +THE PRINCE. A prisoner? I? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Indeed! + +GOLZ. You heard him say it. + +THE PRINCE. And may one know the reason why? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_emphatically_). Not now! + We told you, at the time, you pressed too soon + Into the battle, when the order was + You should not quit your place till you were called. + +THE PRINCE. Help, help, friends, help! I'm going mad! + +GOLZ (_interrupting_). Calm! calm! + +THE PRINCE. Were the Mark's armies beaten then? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_with a stamp of his foot_). No matter! + The ordinance demands obedience. + +THE PRINCE (_bitterly_). + So--so, so, so! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_turning away from him_). + It will not cost your head. + +GOLZ (_similarly_). + Tomorrow morning, maybe, you'll be free. + +[_The_ ELECTOR _folds his letters and returns to the circle of + officers._] + +THE PRINCE (_after he has unbuckled his sword_). + My cousin Frederick hopes to play the Brutus + And sees himself, on linen drawn with chalk, + Already seated in the curule chair. + The foreground filled with Swedish battle-flags, + And on his desk the ordinance of the Mark. + By God, in me he shall not find a son + Who shall revere him 'neath the hangman's axe! + A German heart of honest cut and grain, + I look for kindness and nobility; + And when he stands before me, frigidly, + This moment, like some ancient man of stone, + I'm sorry for him and I pity him. + + [_He gives his sword to the officer and goes out._] + +ELECTOR. Bring him to camp at Fehrbellin, and there + Assemble the court-martial for his trial. + +[_He enters the church. The flags follow him, and, while he and his +retinue kneel in prayer at_ FROBEN's _coffin, are fastened to the +pilasters. Funeral music._] + + + + +ACT III + +_Scene: Fehrbellin. A prison._ + +SCENE I + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. _Two troopers as guards in the rear._ COUNT + HOHENZOLLERN _enters._ + +THE PRINCE. Faith, now, friend Harry! Welcome, man, you are! + Well, then, I'm free of my imprisonment? + +HOHENZOLLERN (_amazed_). + Lord in the heavens be praised! + +THE PRINCE. What was that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Free? + So then he's sent you back your sword again? + +THE PRINCE. Me? No. + +HOHENZOLLERN. No? + +THE PRINCE. No. + +HOHENZOLLERN. Then how can you be free? + +THE PRINCE (after a pause). + I thought that _you_ were bringing it.--What of it? + +HOHENZOLL. I know of nothing. + +THE PRINCE. Well, you heard: What of it? + He'll send some other one to let me know. + + [_He turns and brings chairs._] + + Sit down. Now come and tell me all the news. + Has he returned, the Elector, from Berlin? + +HOHENZOLL. Yes. Yester eve. + +THE PRINCE. And did they celebrate + The victory as planned?--Assuredly! + And he was at the church himself, the Elector? + +HOHENZOLL. With the Electress and with Natalie. + The church was wonderfully bright with lights; + Upon the palace-square artillery + Through the _Te Deum_ spoke with solemn splendor. + The Swedish flags and standards over us + Swung from the church's columns, trophy-wise, + And, on the sovereign's express command, + Your name was spoken from the chancel high, + Your name was spoken, as the victor's name. + +THE PRINCE. I heard that.--Well, what other news? What's yours? + Your face, my friend, is scarcely frolicsome. + +HOHENZOLL. Have you seen anybody? + +THE PRINCE. Golz, just now, + I' the Castle where, you know, I had my trial. + + [_Pause._] + +HOHENZOLLERN (_regarding him doubtfully_). + What do you think of your position, Arthur, + Since it has suffered such a curious change? + +THE PRINCE. What you and Golz and even the judges think-- + The Elector has fulfilled what duty asked, + And now he'll do as well the heart's behest. + Thus he'll address me, gravely: You have erred + (Put in a word perhaps of "death" and "fortress"), + But I grant you your liberty again-- + And round the sword that won his victory + Perhaps there'll even twine some mark of grace; + If not that, good; I did not merit that. + +HOHENZOLL. Oh, Arthur! [_He pauses._] + +THE PRINCE. Well? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Are you so very sure? + +THE PRINCE. So I have laid it out. I know he loves me, + He loves me like a son; since early childhood + A thousand signs have amply proven that. + What doubt is in your heart that stirs you so? + Has he not ever seemed to take more joy + Than I myself to see my young fame grow? + All that I am, am I not all through him? + And he should now unkindly tread in dust + The plant himself has nurtured, just because + Too swiftly opulent it flowered forth? + I'll not believe his worst foe could think that-- + And far less you who know and cherish him. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_significantly_). + Arthur, you've stood your trial in court-martial, + And you believe that still? + +THE PRINCE. _Because_ of it! + No one, by heaven alive, would go so far + Who did not have a pardon up his sleeve! + Even there, before the judgment bar, it was-- + Even there it was, my confidence returned. + Come, was it such a capital offense + Two little seconds ere the order said + To have laid low the stoutness of the Swede? + What other felony is on my conscience? + And could he summon me, unfeelingly, + Before this board of owl-like judges, chanting + Their litanies of bullets and the grave, + Did he not purpose with a sovereign word + To step into their circle like a god? + No, he is gathering this night of cloud + About my head, my friend, that he may dawn + Athwart the gloomy twilight like the sun! + And, faith, this pleasure I begrudge him not! + +HOHENZOLL. And yet, they say, the court has spoken judgment. + +THE PRINCE. I heard so: death. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_amazed_). You know it then--so soon? + +THE PRINCE. Golz, who was present when they brought the verdict + Gave me report of how the judgment fell. + +HOHENZOLL. My God, man! And it stirred you not at all? + +THE PRINCE. Me? Why, not in the least! + +HOHENZOLLERN. You maniac! + On what then do you prop your confidence? + +THE PRINCE. On what I feel of him! [_He rises._] No more, I beg. + Why should I fret with insubstantial doubts? + + [_He bethinks himself and sits down again. Pause._] + + The court was forced to make its verdict death; + For thus the statute reads by which they judge. + But ere he let that sentence be fulfilled-- + Ere, at a kerchief's fall, he yields this heart + That loves him truly, to the muskets' fire, + Ere that, I say, he'll lay his own breast bare + And spill his own blood, drop by drop, in dust. + +HOHENZOLL. But, Arthur, I assure you-- + +THE PRINCE (_petulantly_). Oh, my dear! + +HOHENZOLL. The Marshal-- + +THE PRINCE (_still petulantly_). Come, enough! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Hear two words more! + If those make no impression, I'll be mute. + +THE PRINCE (_turning to him again_). + I told you, I know all. Well, now, what is it? + +HOHENZOLL. Most strange it is, a moment since, the Marshal + Delivered him the warrant for your death. + It leaves him liberty to pardon you, + But he, instead, has given the command + That it be brought him for his signature. + +THE PRINCE. No matter, I repeat! + +HOHENZOLLERN. No matter? + +THE PRINCE. For-- + His signature? + +HOHENZOLLERN. By faith, I do assure you! + +THE PRINCE. The warrant?--No! The verdict-- + +HOHENZOLLERN. The death warrant. + +THE PRINCE. Who was it told you that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The Marshal. + +THE PRINCE. When? + +HOHENZOLL. Just now. + +THE PRINCE. Returning from the sovereign? + +HOHENZOLL. The stairs descending from the sovereign. + And added, when he saw my startled face, + That nothing yet was lost, and that the dawn + Would bring another day for pardoning. + But the dead pallor of his lips disproved + Their spoken utterance, with, I fear it--no! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + He could--I'll not believe it!--bring to birth + Such monstrous resolutions in his heart? + For a defect, scarce visible to the lens, + In the bright diamond he but just received, + Tread in the dust the giver? 'Twere a deed + To burn the Dey of Algiers white: with wings + Like those that silver-gleam on cherubim + To dizen Sardanapalus, and cast + The assembled tyrannies of ancient Rome, + Guiltless as babes that die on mother-breast, + Over upon the favor-hand of God! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_who has likewise risen_). + My friend, you must convince yourself of that! + +THE PRINCE. The Marshal then was silent, said nought else? + +HOHENZOLL. What should he say? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, heaven, my hope, my hope! + +HOHENZOLL. Come, have you ever done a thing, perchance, + Be it unconsciously or consciously, + That might have given his lofty heart offense? + +THE PRINCE. Never! + +HOHENZOLLERN. Consider! + +THE PRINCE. Never, by high heaven! + The very shadow of his head was sacred. + +HOHENZOLL. Do not be angry, Arthur, if I doubt. + Count Horn has come, the Ambassador of Sweden, + And I am told with all authority + His business concerns the Princess Orange. + A word her aunt, the Electress, spoke, they say, + Has cut the sovereign to the very quick; + They say, the lady has already chosen. + Are you in no way tangled up in this? + +THE PRINCE. Dear God, what are you saying? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Are you? Are you? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend, I am! And now all things are clear! + It is that wooing that destroys me quite. + I am accountable if she refuse, + Because the Princess is betrothed to me. + +HOHENZOLL. You feather-headed fool, what have you done? + How often have I warned you, loyally! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, friend! Then help me! Save me! I am lost! + +HOHENZOLL. Ay, what expedient saves us in this gloom? + Come, would you like to see her aunt, the Electress? + +THE PRINCE (_turning_). + Ho, watch! + +TROOPER (_in the background_). Here! + +THE PRINCE. Go, and call your officer! + +[_He hastily takes a cloak from the wall and puts on a plumed hat +lying on the table._] + +HOHENZOLLERN (_as he assists him_) + Adroitly used, this step may spell salvation. + For if the Elector can but make the peace, + By the determined forfeit, with King Charles, + His heart, you soon shall see, will turn to you, + And in brief time you will be free once more. + + + +SCENE II + + _The officer enters. The others as before._ + +THE PRINCE (_to the officer_). + Stranz, they have put me in your custody; + Grant me my freedom for an hour's time. + I have some urgent business on my mind. + +OFFICER. Not in my custody are you, my lord. + The order given me declares that I + Shall leave you free to go where you desire. + +THE PRINCE. Most odd! Then I am not a prisoner? + +OFFICER. Your word of honor is a fetter, too. + +HOHENZOLLERN (_preparing to go_). + 'Twill do! No matter. + +THE PRINCE. So. Then fare you well. + +HOHENZOLL. The fetter follows hard upon the Prince. + +THE PRINCE. I go but to the Castle, to my aunt, + And in two minutes I am back again. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE III + +_Room of the_ ELECTRESS. _The_ ELECTRESS _and_ NATALIE _enter_. + +ELECTRESS. Come, daughter mine, come now! This is your hour. + Count Gustaf Horn, the Swedes' ambassador, + And all the company have left the Castle; + There is a light in Uncle's study still. + Come, put your kerchief on and steal on him, + And see if you can rescue yet your friend. + + [_They are about to go._] + + + +SCENE IV + +_A lady-in-waiting enters. Others as before._ + +LADY-IN-WAITING. + Madam, the Prince of Homburg's at the door. + But I am hardly sure that I saw right. + +ELECTRESS. Dear God! + +NATALIE. Himself? + +ELECTRESS. Is he not prisoner? + +LADY-IN-WAITING. + He stands without, in plumed hat and cloak, + And begs in urgent terror to be heard. + +ELECTRESS (_distressed_). + Impulsive boy! To go and break his word! + +NATALIE. Who knows what may torment him? + +ELECTRESS (_after a moment in thought_). Let him come! + + [_She seats herself._] + + + +SCENE V + +_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _enters. The others as before._ + +THE PRINCE (_throwing himself at the feet of the_ ELECTRESS). + Oh, mother! + +ELECTRESS. Prince! What are you doing here? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, let me clasp your knees, oh, mother mine! + +ELECTRESS (_with suppressed emotion_). + You are a prisoner, Prince, and you come hither? + Why will you heap new guilt upon the old? + +THE PRINCE (_urgently_). + Oh, do you know what they have done? + +ELECTRESS. Yes, all. + But what can I do, helpless I, for you? + +THE PRINCE. You would not speak thus, mother mine, if death + Had ever terribly encompassed you + As it doth me. With potencies of heaven, + You and my lady, these who serve you, all + The world that rings me round, seem blest to save. + The very stable-boy, the meanest, least, + That tends your horses, pleading I could hang + About his neck, crying: Oh, save me, thou! + I, only I, alone on God's wide earth + Am helpless, desolate, and impotent. + +ELECTRESS. You are beside yourself! What has occurred? + +THE PRINCE. Oh, on the way that led me to your side, + I saw in torchlight where they dug the grave + That on the morrow shall receive my bones! + Look, Aunt, these eyes that gaze upon you now, + These eyes they would eclipse with night, this breast + Pierce and transpierce with murderous musketry. + The windows on the Market that shall close + Upon the weary show are all reserved; + And one who, standing on life's pinnacle, + Today beholds the future like a realm + Of faery spread afar, tomorrow lies + Stinking within the compass of two boards, + And over him a stone recounts: _He was_. + +[_The_ PRINCESS, _who until now has stood in the background supporting +herself on the shoulder of one of the ladies-in-waiting, sinks into a +chair, deeply moved at his words, and begins to weep._] + +ELECTRESS. My son, if such should be the will of heaven, + You will go forth with courage and calm soul. + +THE PRINCE. God's world, O mother, is so beautiful! + Oh, let me not, before my hour strike, + Descend, I plead, to those black shadow-forms! + Why, why can it be nothing but the bullet? + Let him depose me from my offices, + With rank cashierment, if the law demands, + Dismiss me from the army. God of heaven! + Since I beheld my grave, life, life, I want, + And do not ask if it be kept with honor. + +ELECTRESS. Arise, my son, arise! What were those words? + You are too deeply moved. Control yourself! + +THE PRINCE. Oh, Aunt, not ere you promise on your soul, + With a prostration that shall save my life + Pleading to go before the sovereign presence. + Hedwig, your childhood friend, gave me to you, + Dying at Homburg, saying as she died: + Be you his mother when I am no more. + Moved to the depths, kneeling beside her bed, + Over her spent hand bending, you replied: + Yea, he shall be to me as mine own child. + Now, I remind you of the vow you made! + Go to him, go, as though I were your child, + Crying, I plead for mercy! Set him free! + Oh, and return to me, and say: 'Tis so! + +ELECTRESS (_weeping_). + Beloved son! All has been done, erewhile. + But all my supplications were in vain. + +THE PRINCE. I give up every claim to happiness. + And tell him this, forget it not, that I + Desire Natalie no more, for her + All tenderness within my heart is quenched. + Free as the doe upon the meads is she, + Her hand and lips, as though I'd never been, + Freely let her bestow, and if it be + The Swede Karl Gustaf, I commend her choice. + I will go seek my lands upon the Rhine. + There will I build and raze again to earth + With sweating brow, and sow and gather in, + As though for wife and babe, enjoy alone; + And when the harvest's gathered, sow again, + And round and round the treadmill chase my days + Until at evening they sink down, and die. + +ELECTRESS. Enough! Now take your way home to your prison-- + That is the first demand my favor makes. + +THE PRINCE (_rises and turns toward the_ PRINCESS). + Poor little girl, you weep! The sun today + Lights all your expectations to their grave! + Your heart decided from the first on me; + Indeed, your look declares, that, true as gold, + You ne'er shall dedicate your heart anew. + Oh, what can I, poor devil, say to comfort? + Go to the Maiden's Chapter on the Main, + I counsel you, go to your cousin Thurn. + Seek in the hills a boy, light-curled as I, + Buy him with gold and silver, to your breast + Press him, and teach his lips to falter: Mother. + And when he grows to manhood, show him well + How men draw shut the eyelids of the dead. + That is the only joy that lies your way! + +NATALIE (_bravely and impressively, as she rises and lays + her hand in his_). + Return, young hero, to your prison walls, + And, on your passage, imperturbably + Regard once more the grave they dug for you. + It is not gloomier, nor more wide at all + Than those the battle showed a thousand times. + Meanwhile, since I am true to you till death, + A saving word I'll chance, unto my kin. + It may avail, perhaps, to move his heart + And disenthrall you from all misery. + + [_Pause._] + +THE PRINCE (_folding his hands, as he stands lost in contemplation + of her_). + An you had pinions on your shoulders, maid, + Truly I should be sure you were an angel! + Dear God, did I hear right? You speak for me? + Where has the quiver of your speech till now + Lain hid, dear child, that you should dare approach + The sovereign in matters such as this? + Oh, light of hope, reviving me once more! + +NATALIE. The darts that find the marrow God will hand me! + But if the Elector cannot move the law's + Outspoken word, cannot--so be it! Then + Bravely to him the brave man will submit. + And he, the conqueror a thousand times, + Living, will know to conquer too in death! + +ELECTRESS. Make haste! The favorable hour flies by! + +THE PRINCE. Now may all holy spirits guard your way! + Farewell, farewell! Whate'er the outcome be, + Grant me a word to tell me how you fared. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +ACT IV + +_Scene: Room of the_ ELECTOR. + +SCENE I + +_The_ ELECTOR _is standing with documents in his hand near a table set +with lights_. NATALIE _enters through the centre door and, still some +distance away, falls on her knees to him_. + +NATALIE. My noble uncle Frederick of the Mark! + +ELECTOR (_laying the papers aside_). + My Natalie! + + [_He seeks to raise her._] + +NATALIE. No, no! + +ELECTOR. What is your wish? + +NATALIE. As it behooves me, at your feet in dust + To plead your pardon for my cousin Homburg. + Not for myself I wish to know him safe-- + My heart desires him and confesses it-- + Not for myself I wish to know him safe; + Let him go wed whatever wife he will. + I only ask, dear uncle, that he live, + Free, independent, unallied, unbound, + Even as a flower in which I find delight; + For this I plead, my sovereign lord and friend, + And such entreaty you will heed, I know. + +ELECTOR (_raising her to her feet_). + My little girl! What words escaped your lips? + Are you aware of how your cousin Homburg + Lately offended? + +NATALIE. But, dear uncle! + +ELECTOR. Well? + Was it so slight? + +NATALIE. Oh, this blond fault, blue-eyed, + Which even ere it faltered: Lo, I pray! + Forgiveness should raise up from the earth-- + Surely you will not spurn it with your foot? + Why, for its mother's sake, for her who bore it, + You'll press it to your breast and cry: "Weep not! + For you are dear as loyalty herself." + Was it not ardor for your name's renown + That lured him in the fight's tumultuous midst + To burst apart the confines of the law? + And oh, once he had burst the bonds asunder, + Trod he not bravely on the serpent's head? + To crown him first because he triumphs, then + Put him to death--that, surely, history + Will not demand of you. Dear uncle mine, + That were so stoical and so sublime + That men might almost deem it was inhuman! + And God made nothing more humane than you. + +ELECTOR. Sweet child, consider! If I were a tyrant, + I am indeed aware your words ere now + Had thawed the heart beneath the iron breast. + But this I put to you: Have I the right + To quash the verdict which the court has passed? + What would the issue be of such an act? + +NATALIE. For whom? For you? + +ELECTOR. For me? No! Bah! For me! + My girl, know you no higher law than me! + Have you no inkling of a sanctuary + That in the camp men call the fatherland? + +NATALIE. My liege! Why fret your soul? Because of such + Upstirring of your grace, this fatherland + Will not this moment crash to rack and ruin! + The camp has been your school. And, look, what there + You term unlawfulness, this act, this free + Suppression of the verdict of the court, + Appears to me the very soul of law. + The laws of war, I am aware, must rule; + The heart, however, has its charter, too. + The fatherland your hands upbuilt for us, + My noble uncle, is a fortress strong, + And other greater storms indeed will bear + Than this unnecessary victory. + Majestically through the years to be + It shall uprise, beneath your line expand, + Grow beautiful with towers, luxuriant, + A fairy country, the felicity + Of those who love it, and the dread of foes. + It does not need the cold cementing seal + Of a friend's life-blood to outlast the calm + And glorious autumn of my uncle's days! + +ELECTOR. And cousin Homburg thinks this? + +NATALIE. Cousin Homburg? + +ELECTOR. Does he believe it matters not at all + If license rule the fatherland, or law? + +NATALIE. This poor dear boy! + +ELECTOR. Well, now? + +NATALIE. Oh, uncle dear, + To that I have no answer save my tears! + +ELECTOR (_in surprise_). + Why that, my little girl? What has befallen? + +NATALIE (_falteringly_). + He thinks of nothing now but one thing: rescue! + The barrels at the marksmen's shoulders peer + So ghastly, that, giddy and amazed, + Desire is mute, save one desire: To live. + The whole great nation of the Mark might sink + To wrack mid flare and thunderbolt; and he + Stand by nor even ask: What comes to pass?-- + Oh, what a hero's heart have you brought low? + + [_She turns away, sobbing._] + +ELECTOR (_utterly amazed_). + No, dearest Natalie! No, no, indeed! + Impossible!--He pleads for clemency? + +NATALIE. If you had only, only not condemned him! + +ELECTOR. Come, tell me, come! He pleads for clemency? + What has befallen, child? Why do you sob? + You met? Come, tell me all. You spoke with him? + +NATALIE (_pressed against his breast_). + In my aunt's chambers but a moment since, + Whither in mantle, lo, and plumed hat + Stealthily through the screening dusk he came-- + Furtive, perturbed, abashed, unworthy all, + A miserable, pitiable sight. + I never guessed a man could sink so low + Whom history applauded as her hero. + For look--I am a woman and I shrink + From the mere worm that draws too near my foot; + But so undone, so void of all control, + So unheroic quite, though lion-like + Death fiercely came, he should not find me thus! + Oh, what is human greatness, human fame! + +ELECTOR (_confused_). + Well, then, by God of heaven and of earth! + Take courage, then, my girl, for he is free! + +NATALIE. What, my liege lord? + +ELECTOR. I pardon him, I say! + I'll send the necessary word at once. + +NATALIE. Oh, dearest, is it really true? + +ELECTOR. You heard. + +NATALIE. You will forgive him? And he need not die? + +ELECTOR. Upon my word! I swear it! How shall I + Oppose myself to such a warrior's judgment? + Within my heart of hearts, as you know well, + I deeply do esteem his inner sense; + If he can say the verdict is unjust, + I cancel the indictment; he is free! + + [_He brings her a chair._] + + Will you sit here and wait a little while? + +[_He goes to the table, seats himself and writes. Pause._] + +NATALIE (_softly_). + Why dost thou knock so at thy house, my heart? + +ELECTOR (_writing_). + The Prince is over in the Castle? + +NATALIE. Pardon! + He has returned to his captivity. + +ELECTOR (_finishes his letter and seals it; thereupon he returns + with the letter to the_ PRINCESS). + Well, well, my little niece, my daughter, wept! + And I, whose place it is to make her glad + Was forced to cloud the heaven of her fair eyes! + + [_He puts his arm about her_.] + + Will you go bring the note to him yourself? + +NATALIE. How? To the City Hall? + +ELECTOR (_presses the letter into her hand_). + Why not? Ho, lackeys! + + [_Enter lackeys_.] + + Go, have the carriage up! Her ladyship + Has urgent business with Colonel Homburg. + + [_The lackeys go out_.] + + Now he can thank you for his life forthwith. + + [_He embraces her_.] + + Dear child, and do you like me now once more? + +NATALIE (_after a pause_). + I do not know and do not seek to know + What woke your favor, liege, so suddenly. + But truly this, I feel this in my heart, + You would not make ignoble sport of me. + The letter hold whate'er it may--I trust + That it hold pardon--and I thank you for it. + + [_She kisses his hand_.] + +ELECTOR. Indeed, my little girl, indeed. As sure + As pardon lies in Cousin Homburg's wish. + + + +SCENE II + +_Room of the_ PRINCESS. _Enter_ PRINCESS NATALIE, _followed by two +ladies-in-waiting and Captain of Cavalry_, COUNT REUSS. + +NATALIE (_precipitantly_). + What is it, Count? About my regiment? + Is it of moment? Can it wait a day? + +REUSS (_handing her a letter_). + Madam, a note for you from Colonel Kottwitz. + +NATALIE (_opening it_). + Quick, give it me! What's in it? + +REUSS. A petition, + Frankly addressed, though deferentially, + As you will note, to our liege lord, his Highness, + In furtherance of our chief, the Prince of Homburg. + +NATALIE (_reading_). + "Petition, loyally presented by + The regiment of Princess Orange"--so. + + [_Pause._] + + This document--whose hand composed it, pray? + +REUSS. As the formations of the dizzy script + May let you guess, by none but Colonel Kottwitz. + His noble name stands foremost on the list. + +NATALIE. The thirty signatures which follow it? + +REUSS. The names of officers, most noble lady, + Each following each according to his rank. + +NATALIE. And they sent me the supplication--me? + +REUSS. My lady, most submissively to beg + If you, our colonel, likewise, at their head + Will fill the space left vacant, with your name? + + [_Pause._] + +NATALIE. Indeed, I hear, the Prince, my noble kinsman, + By our lord's own volition shall be freed, + Wherefore there scarce is need for such a step. + +REUSS (_delighted_). + What? Truly? + +NATALIE. Yet I'll not deny my hand + Upon a document, which, wisely used, + May prove a weight upon the scales to turn + Our sovereign's decision--even prove + Welcome, mayhap, to introduce the issue. + According to your wish, therefore, I set + Myself here at your head and write my name. + + [_She goes to a desk and is about to write._] + +REUSS. Indeed, you have our lively gratitude! + + [_Pause._] + +NATALIE (_turning to him again_). + My regiment alone I find, Count Reuss! + Why do I miss the Bomsdorf Cuirassiers + And the dragoons of Goetz and Anhalt-Pless? + +REUSS. Not, as perchance you fear, because their hearts + Are cooler in their throbbing than our own. + It proves unfortunate for our petition + That Kottwitz is in garrison apart + At Arnstein, while the other regiments + Are quartered in the city here. Wherefore + The document lacks freedom easily + In all directions to expand its force. + +NATALIE. Yet, as it stands, the plea seems all too thin.-- + Are you sure, Count, if you were on the spot + To interview the gentlemen now here, + That they as well would sign the document? + +REUSS. Here in the city, madam? Head for head! + The entire cavalry would pledge itself + With signatures. By God, I do believe + That a petition might be safely launched + Amid the entire army of the Mark! + +NATALIE (_after a pause_). + Why does not some one send out officers + To carry on the matter in the camp? + +REUSS. Pardon! The Colonel put his foot on that. + He said that he desired to do no act + That men might christen with an ugly name. + +NATALIE. Queer gentleman! Now bold, now timorous! + But it occurs to me that happily + The Elector, pressed by other business, + Charged me to issue word that Kottwitz, cribbed + Too close in his position, march back hither. + I will sit down at once and do it! + + [_She sits down and writes._] + +REUSS. By Heaven, + Most excellent, my lady! An event + That could not timelier prove for our petition! + +NATALIE (_as she writes_). + Use it, Count Reuss, as well as you know how. + +[_She finishes her note, seals it and rises to her feet again._] + + Meanwhile this note, you understand, remains + In your portfolio; you will not go + To Arnstein with it, nor convey 't to Kottwitz + Until I give more definite command. + + [_She gives him the letter._] + +A LACKEY (_entering_). + According to the sovereign's order, madam, + The coach is ready in the yard, and waiting. + +NATALIE. Go, call it to the door. I'll come at once. + +[_Pause, during which she steps thoughtfully to the table and draws on +her gloves._] + + Count, I desire to interview Prince Homburg. + Will you escort me thither? In my coach + There is a place I put at your disposal. + +REUSS. Madam, a great distinction, I assure you-- + + [_He offers her his arm._] + +NATALIE (_to the ladies-in-waiting_). + Follow, my friends!--It well may be that there + I shall decide about the note erelong. + + [_Exeunt omnes._] + + + +SCENE III + +_The_ PRINCE'S _cell. The_ PRINCE Of HOMBURG _hangs his hat on the wall + and sinks, carelessly reclining, on a mattress spread out on the floor._ + +THE PRINCE. The dervish calls all life a pilgrimage, + And that, a brief one. True!--Of two short spans + This side of earth to two short spans below. + I will recline upon the middle path. + The man who bears his head erect today + No later than tomorrow on his breast + Bows it, all tremulous. Another dawn, + And, lo, it lies a skull beside his heel! + Indeed, there is a sun, they say, that shines + On fields beyond e'en brighter than these fields. + I do believe it; only pity 'tis + The eye, that shall perceive the splendor, rots. + + + +SCENE IV + +_Enter_ PRINCESS NATALIE _on the arm of_ COUNT REUSS, _and followed by + ladies-in-waiting. A footman with a torch precedes them. The_ PRINCE + OF HOMBURG. + +FOOTMAN. Her Highness Princess Natalie of Orange! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + Natalie! + +FOOTMAN. Here she comes herself! + +NATALIE (_with a bow to the COUNT_). I beg + Leave us a little moment to ourselves. + + [COUNT REUSS _and the footman go._] + +THE PRINCE. Beloved lady! + +NATALIE. Dear good cousin mine! + +THE PRINCE (_leading her up stage_). + What is your news? Speak! How stand things with me? + +NATALIE. Well. All is well, just as I prophesied. + Pardoned are you, and free; here is a letter + Writ by his hand to verify my words. + +THE PRINCE. It cannot be! No, no! It is a dream! + +NATALIE. Read! Read the letter! See it for yourself! + +THE PRINCE (_reading_). + "My Prince of Homburg, when I made you prisoner + Because of your too premature attack, + I thought that I was doing what was right-- + No more; and reckoned on your acquiescence. + If you believe that I have been unjust, + Tell me, I beg you in a word or two, + And forthwith I will send you back your sword." + +[NATALIE _turns pale. Pause. The_ PRINCE _regards her questioningly._] + +NATALIE (_feigning sudden joy_). + Well, there it stands! It only needs two words, + My dear, sweet friend! + + [_She presses his hand._] + +THE PRINCE. Ah, precious lady mine! + +NATALIE. Oh, blessed hour that dawns across my world! + Here, take it, take the pen, take it and write. + +THE PRINCE. And here the signature? + +NATALIE. The F--his mark! + Oh, Bork! Be glad with me. His clemency + Is limitless, I knew it, as the sea! + Do bring a chair, for he must write at once. + +THE PRINCE. He says, if I believed-- + + NATALIE (_interrupting_). Why, yes, of course! + Quick now! Sit down. I'll tell you what to say. + + [_She sets a chair in place for him._] + +THE PRINCE. I wish to read the letter once again. + +NATALIE (_tearing the letter from his hand_). + Why so? Did you not see the pit already + Yawning beneath you in the graveyard yonder? + The time is urgent. Come, sit down and write. + +THE PRINCE (_smiling_). + Truly, you act as though it had the power + To plump down, panther-fashion, on my back. + + [_He sits down and seizes a pen._] + +NATALIE (_turning away with a sob_). + Write, if you do not want to make me cross. + + [_The_ PRINCE _rings for a lackey, who enters._] + +THE PRINCE. Bring pen and paper, seal and sealing-wax. + +[_The lackey, having collected these and given them to the_ PRINCE, +_goes out. The_ PRINCE _writes. Pause, during which he tears the +letter he has begun in two and throws the pieces under the table_.] + + A silly opening! + + [_He takes another sheet_.] + +NATALIE (_picking up the letter_). What did you say? + Good heavens! Why, it's right, it's excellent. + +THE PRINCE (_under his breath_). + Bah! That's a blackguard's wording, not a Prince's. + I'll try to put it in some other way. + +[_Pause. He clutches at the_ ELECTOR'S _letter which the_ PRINCESS +_holds in her hand._] + + What is it, anyway, his letter says? + +NATALIE (_keeping it from him_). + Nothing at all! + +THE PRINCE. Give it to me! + +NATALIE. You read it! + +THE PRINCE (_snatches it from her_). + What if I did? I only want to see + How I'm to phrase my answer. + +NATALIE (_to herself_). God of earth! + Now all is done with him! + +THE PRINCE (_surprised_). Why, look at this! + As I'm alive, most curious! You must + Have overlooked the passage. + +NATALIE. Why! Which one? + +THE PRINCE. He calls on me to judge the case myself! + +NATALIE. Well, what of that? + +THE PRINCE. Gallant, i' faith, and fine! + Exactly what a noble soul would say! + +NATALIE. His magnanimity is limitless! + But you, too, friend, do _your_ part now, and write, + As he desires. All that is needed now + Is but the pretext, but the outer form. + As soon as those two words are in his hands, + Presto, the quarrel's at an end. + +THE PRINCE (_putting the letter away_). No, dear! + I want to think it over till tomorrow. + +NATALIE. Incomprehensible! Oh, what a change! + But why, but why? + +THE PRINCE (_rising in passionate excitement_). + I beg you, ask me not! + You did not ponder what the letter said. + That he did me a wrong--and that's the crux-- + I cannot tell him that. And if you force me + To give him answer in my present mood, + By God, it's this I'll tell him--"You did right!" + +[_He sinks down beside the table, again with folded arms, and stares +at the letter._] + +NATALIE (_pale_). + You imbecile, you! What a thing to say! + + [_She bends over him, deeply stirred_.] + +THE PRINCE (_pressing her hand_). + Come, just a second now! I think-- + + [_He ponders_.] + +NATALIE. What is it? + +THE PRINCE. I'll know soon now what I shall write to him. + +NATALIE (_painfully_). + Homburg! + +THE PRINCE (_taking up his pen_) + Yes, dear. What is it? + +NATALIE. Sweetest friend! + I prize the impulse that upstirred your heart; + But this I swear to you: the regiment + Has been detailed, whose muskets are to sound + At dawn the reconciling burial rite + Above the grave where your dead body lies. + If you cannot resist the law's decree, + Nor, noble as you are, do what he asks + Here in this letter to repeal it, then + I do assure you he will loftily + Accept the situation, and fulfil + The sentence on the morrow ruthlessly. + +THE PRINCE (_writing_). + No matter! + +NATALIE. What? No matter? + +THE PRINCE. Let him do + What his soul bids. I must do what I must. + +NATALIE (_approaching him frightened_). + Oh, terrible! You are not writing there? + +THE PRINCE (_concluding_). + "Homburg!" And dated, "Fehrbellin, the twelfth." + So, it's all ready. Frank! + + [_He closes and seals the letter_.] + +NATALIE. Dear God in heaven! + +THE PRINCE (_rising_). + Here, take this to the Castle to my liege! + + [_The lackey goes out_.] + + I will not face man who faces me + So nobly, with a knave's ignoble front! + Guilt, heavy guilt, upon my conscience weighs, + I fully do confess. Can he but grant + Forgiveness, when I contest for it, + I do not care a straw for any pardon. + +NATALIE (_kissing him_). + This kiss, for me! And though twelve bullets made + You dust this instant, I could not resist + Caroling, sobbing, crying: Thus you please me! + However, since you follow your heart's lead, + I may be pardoned if I follow mine. + Count Reuss! + + [_The footman opens the door. The_ COUNT _enters_.] + +REUSS. Here! + +NATALIE. Go, and bear the note I gave + Post-haste to Arnstein and to Colonel Kottwitz! + The regiment shall march, our liege directs. + Ere midnight I shall look to see it here! + + [_Exeunt omnes_.] + + + +ACT V + +_Scene: a hall in the Castle._ + +SCENE I + +_The_ ELECTOR, _scantily clad, enters from the adjoining chamber, +followed by_ COUNT TRUCHSZ, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, _and_ CAPTAIN VON DER +GOLZ. _Pages with lights_. + +ELECTOR. Kottwitz? And with the Princess's dragoons? + Here in the town? + +TRUCHSZ (_opening the window_). Indeed, my sovereign! + Drawn up before the Castle, here he is! + +ELECTOR. Well? Will you read the riddle, gentlemen? + Who called him hither? + +HOHENZOLLERN. I know not, my liege. + +ELECTOR. The place I set him at is known as Arnstein! + Make haste, some one, and go and bring him in. + +GOLZ. He will appear forthwith, my sovereign. + +ELECTOR. Where is he? + +GOLZ. At the City Hall, I hear, + Where the entire generality, + That bears obedience to your house, is met. + +ELECTOR. But why? What is the object? + +HOHENZOLLERN. I know not. + +TRUCHSZ. My prince and lord, will you vouchsafe that we + Likewise betake ourselves a moment thither? + +ELECTOR. Whither? The City Hall? + +HOHENZOLLERN. The lords' assemblage. + We gave our word of honor to appear. + +ELECTOR (_after a short pause_). + You are dismissed! + +GOLZ. Come, follow, gentlemen! + + [_The officers go out_.] + + + +SCENE II + +_The_ ELECTOR. _Later, two footmen._ + +ELECTOR. Most curious! Were I the Dey of Tunis + I'd sound alarm at such a dubious move, + Lay on my desk despair's thin silken cord, + And at my palisaded castle-gate + Set up my heavy guns and howitzers. + But since it's just Hans Kottwitz from the Priegnitz + Who marches on me of his own sweet will + I'll treat the matter in the Mark's own way; + Of the three curls that gleam so silvery + On his old skull, I'll take firm hold of one + And lead him calmly with his squadrons twelve + To Arnstein, his headquarters, back again. + Why wake the city from its slumber thus? + +[_He goes to the window a moment, then returns to the table and rings +a bell. Two lackeys enter_.] + + Do run below and ask, as for yourself, + What's doing in the City Hall. + +1st LACKEY. At once! + + [_He goes out._] + +ELECTOR (_to the other_). + But you go now and fetch me my apparel. + +[_The lackey goes and brings it. The_ ELECTOR _attires himself and +dons his princely insignia._] + + + +SCENE III + +FIELD-MARSHAL DOeRFLING _enters. The others as before._ + +DOeRFLING. Rebellion, my Elector! + +ELECTOR (_still occupied with his clothes_). Calm yourself! + You know that I detest to have my room + Without a warning word, invaded thus. + What do you want? + +MARSHAL. Forgive me! An affair + Of special consequence has brought me hither. + Unordered, Colonel Kottwitz moved his force + Into the city; hundred officers + Are gathered round him in the armor-hall. + From hand to hand a paper passes round + That purposes encroachment on your rights. + +ELECTOR. I am informed of it. What can it be + Except a ferment friendly to the Prince + On whom the law has laid the sentence, death? + +MARSHAL. 'Tis so, by God on high! You struck it right! + +ELECTOR. Well, then, and good. My heart is in their midst. + +MARSHAL. The rumor goes the maniacs intend + This very night to hand you their petition + Here in the Castle; and should you persist + In carrying out, irreconcilably, + The sentence--scarce I dare to bring you this!-- + To liberate him from his bonds by force! + +ELECTOR (_sombrely_). + Come now, who told you that? + +MARSHAL. Who told me that? + The lady Retzow, cousin of my wife, + Whom you may trust. She spent this evening + In Bailiff Retzow's, in her uncle's house, + And heard some officers who came from camp + Brazenly utter this audacious plan. + +ELECTOR. A man must tell me that ere I'll believe it. + I'll set this boot of mine before his house + To keep him safe from these young heroes' + hands! + +MARSHAL. My lord, I beg you, if it be your will, + To grant the Prince his pardon after all: + Fulfil it ere an odious deed be done. + You know that every army loves its hero. + Let not this spark which kindles in it now + Spread out and wax a wild consuming fire. + Nor Kottwitz nor the crowd he has convened + Are yet aware my faithful word has warned you. + Ere he appears, send back the Prince's sword, + Send it, as, after all, he has deserved. + One piece of chivalry the more you give + To history, and one misdeed the less. + +ELECTOR. Concerning that I'd have to ask the Prince, + Who was not idly made a prisoner, + As you may know, nor idly may be freed.-- + I'll see the gentlemen when they arrive. + +MARSHAL (_to himself_). + Curse it! His armor's proof to every dart. + + + +SCENE IV + +_Two lackeys enter, one with a letter in his hand. The others as before_. + +1st LACKEY. Sir, Colonels Kottwitz, Hennings, Truchsz and others + Beg audience! + +ELECTOR (_to the second lackey, as he takes the letter_). + This from the Prince of Homburg? + +2D LACKEY. Indeed, your Highness. + +ELECTOR. Who delivered it? + +2D LACKEY. The Swiss on guard before the castle gate, + Who had it from the Prince's bodyguard. + +[_The_ ELECTOR _stands by the table, and reads; whereupon he turns and +calls to a page_.] + + Prittwitz! Bring me the warrant, bring it here. + And let me have the passport for the Swede's + Ambassador, Gustaf, the Count of Horn. + + [_Exit the page_.] + + [_To the first lackey_.] + Now Kottwitz and his retinue may come. + + + +SCENE V + +COLONEL KOTTWITZ _and_ COLONEL HENNINGS, COUNT TRUCHSZ, COUNTS +HOHENZOLLERN _and_ SPARREN, COUNT REUSS, CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ, STRANZ +_and other officers enter. The others as before_. + +KOTTWITZ (_bearing the petition_). + Permit me, my exalted sovereign, + Here in the name of all your soldiery + Most humbly to submit this document. + +ELECTOR. Kottwitz, before I take it, tell me now + Who was it called you to this city here? + +KOTTWITZ (_regarding him_). + With the dragoons? + +ELECTOR. Ay, with your regiment! + I nominated Arnstein as your station. + +KOTTWITZ. Sir! It was your behest that brought me + hither. + +ELECTOR. Eh? Let me see the order! + +KOTTWITZ. Here, my liege. + +ELECTOR (_reading_). + Signed: "Natalie." And dated: "Fehrbellin, + By order of my liege, my uncle Frederick." + +KOTTWITZ. By God, my prince and lord, I will not hope + The order's news to you? + +ELECTOR. No--understand--Who + was it who conveyed the order thither? + +KOTTWITZ. Count Reuss! + +ELECTOR (_after a momentary pause_). + What's more, you're welcome, very welcome! + You have been chosen with your squadrons twelve + To pay Prince Homburg, sentenced by the law, + The final honors of the morrow. + +KOTTWITZ (_taken aback_). What, My sovereign? + +ELECTOR (_handing back the order_). + The regiment stands yet, + Benighted and befogged, outside the Castle? + +KOTTWITZ. Pardon, the night-- + +ELECTOR. Why don't they go to quarters? + +KOTTWITZ. My sovereign, they have gone. As you directed + They have found quarters in the city here. + +ELECTOR (_with a turn toward the window_). + What? But a moment since--Well, by the gods! + You've found them stables speedily enough. + So much the better! Welcome, then, once more! + Come, say, what brings you here? What is your news? + +KOTTWITZ. Sir, this petition from your loyal men. + +ELECTOR. Come. + +KOTTWITZ. But the words your lips have spoken strike + All my anticipations down to earth. + +ELECTOR. Well, then, a word can lift them up again! + [_He reads_.] + "Petition, begging royal clemency + For our commandant, vitally accused, + The General, Prince Frederick Hessen-Homburg." + + [_To the officers._] + + A noble name, my lords! And not unworthy + Your coming in such numbers to its aid. + + [_He looks into the document again._] + + By whom is the petition? + +KOTTWITZ. By myself. + +ELECTOR. The Prince has been apprized of what it holds? + +KOTTWITZ. Not in the very faintest. In our midst + The matter was conceived and given birth. + +ELECTOR. Grant me a moment's patience, if you please. + +[_He steps to the table and glances over the paper. Long pause._] + + Hm! Curious! You ancient war-horse, you, + You plead the Prince's cause? You justify + His charging Wrangel ere I gave command? + +KOTTWITZ. My sovereign, yes. That's what old Kottwitz does. + +ELECTOR. You did not hold that notion on the field! + +KOTTWITZ. I'd weighed the thing but ill, my sovereign. + I should have calmly yielded to the Prince + Who is most wonderfully versed in war. + The Swedes' left wing was wavering; on their right + Came reinforcements; had he been content + To bide your order, they'd have made a stand + With new intrenchments in the gullies there, + And never had you gained your victory. + +ELECTOR. That's what it pleases you to presuppose! + I sent out Colonel Hennings, as you know, + To pounce upon and seize the knot of bridges + Held by the Swedes to cover Wrangel's rear. + If you'd not disobeyed my order, look, + Hennings had carried out the stroke as planned-- + In two hours' time had set afire the bridges, + Planted his forces firmly on the Rhyn, + And Wrangel had been crushed with stump and stem + In ditches and morasses, utterly. + +KOTTWITZ. It is the tyro's business, not yours, + To hunger after fate's supremest crown. + Until this hour you took what gift she gave. + The dragon that made desolate the Mark + Beneath your very nose has been repelled + With gory head! What could one day bring more? + What matters it if, for a fortnight yet, + Spent in the sand, he lies and salves his wounds? + We've learnt the art of conquering him, and now + Are full of zeal to make the most of it. + Give us a chance at Wrangel, like strong men, + Breast against breast once more; we'll make an end + And, down into the Baltic, down he goes! + They did not build Rome in a single day. + +ELECTOR. What right have you, you fool, to hope for that, + When every mother's son is privileged + To jerk the battle-chariot's reins I hold? + Think you that fortune will eternally + Award a crown to disobedience? + I do not like a bastard victory, + The gutter-waif of chance; the law, look you, + My crown's progenitor, I will uphold, + For she shall bear a race of victories. + +KOTTWITZ. My liege, the law, the highest and the best, + That shall be honored in your leaders' hearts-- + Look, that is not the letter of your will! + It is the fatherland, it is the crown, + It is yourself, upon whose head it sits. + I beg you now, what matters it to you + What rule the foe fights by, as long as he + With all his pennons bites the dust once more? + The law that drubs him is the highest law! + Would you transform your fervid soldiery + Into a tool, as lifeless as the blade + That in your golden baldrick hangs inert? + Oh, empty spirit, stranger to the stars, + Who first gave forth such doctrine! Oh, the base, + The purblind statecraft, which because of one + Instance wherein the heart rode on to wrack, + Forgets ten others, in the whirl of life, + Wherein the heart alone has power to save! + Come, in the battle do I spill in dust + My blood for wages, money, say, or fame? + Faith, not a bit! It's all too good for that! + Why! I've my satisfaction and my joy, + Free and apart, in quiet solitude, + Seeing your splendor and your excellence, + The fame and crescence of your mighty name! + That is the wage for which I sold my heart! + Grant that, because of this unplanned success; + You broke the staff across the Prince's head, + And I somewhere twixt hill and dale at dawn + Should, shepherd-wise, steal on a victory + Unplanned as this, with my good squadrons, eh?-- + By God, I were a very knave, did I + Not merrily repeat the Prince's act! + And if you spake, the law book in your hand: + "Kottwitz, you've forfeited your head!" I'd say: + I knew it, Sir; there, take it, there it is; + When with an oath I bound me, hide and hair, + Unto your crown, I left not out my head, + And I should give you nought but what was yours! + +ELECTOR. You whimsical old gentleman, with you + I get nowhere! You bribe me with your tongue-- + Me, with your craftily framed sophistries-- + Me--and you know I hold you dear! Wherefore + I call an advocate to bear my side + And end our controversy. + + [_He rings a bell. A footman enters._] + + Go! I wish + The Prince of Homburg hither brought from prison. + + [_Exit footman._] + + He will instruct you, be assured of that, + What discipline and what obedience be! + He sent me words, at least, of other pitch + Than this astute idea of liberty + You have rehearsed here like a boy to me. + + [_He stands by the table again reading._] + +KOTTWITZ (_amazed_). + Fetch whom? Call whom? + +HENNINGS. Himself? + +TRUCHSZ. Impossible! + +[_The officers group themselves, disquieted, and speak with one +another._] + +ELECTOR. Who has brought forth this other document? + +HOHENZOLL. I, my liege lord! + +ELECTOR (_reading_). + "Proof that Elector Frederick + The Prince's act himself--"--Well, now, by heaven, + I call that nerve! + What! You dare say the cause of the misdeed + The Prince committed in the fight, am I! + +HOHENZOLL. Yourself, my liege; I say it, Hohenzollern. + +ELECTOR. Now then, by God, that beats the fairy-tales! + One man asserts that _he_ is innocent, + The other that the guilty man am _I_!-- + How will you demonstrate that thesis now? + +HOHENZOLL. My lord, you will recall to mind that night + We found the Prince in slumber deeply sunk + Down in the garden 'neath the plantain trees. + He dreamed, it seemed, of victories on the morrow, + And in his hand he held a laurel-twig, + As if to test his heart's sincerity. + You took the wreath away, and smilingly + Twined round the leaves the necklace that you wore, + And to the lady, to your noble niece, + Both wreath and necklace, intertwining, gave. + At such a wondrous sight, the Prince, aflush, + Leaps to his feet; such precious things held forth + By such a precious hand he needs must clasp. + But you withdraw from him in haste, withdrawing + The Princess as you pass; the door receives you. + Lady and chain and laurel disappear, + And, solitary, holding in his hand + A glove he ravished from he knows not whom-- + Lapped in the midnight he remains behind. + +ELECTOR. What glove was that? + +HOHENZOLLERN. My sovereign, hear me through! + The matter was a jest; and yet, of what + Deep consequence to him I learned erelong. + For when I slip the garden's postern through, + Coming upon him as it were by chance, + And wake him, and he calls his senses home, + The memory flooded him with keen delight. + A sight more touching scarce the mind could paint. + The whole occurrence, to the least detail, + He recapitulated, like a dream; + So vividly, he thought, he ne'er had dreamed, + And in his heart the firm assurance grew + That heaven had granted him a sign; that when + Once more came battle, God would grant him all + His inward eye had seen, the laurel-wreath, + The lady fair, and honor's linked badge. + +ELECTOR. Hm! Curious! And then the glove? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Indeed! + This fragment of his dream, made manifest, + At once dispels and makes more firm his faith. + At first, with large, round eye he looks at it: + The color's white, in mode and shape it seems + A lady's glove, but, as he spoke with none + By night within the garden whom, by chance, + He might have robbed of it--confused thereto + In his reflections by myself, who calls him + Up to the council in the palace, he + Forgets the thing he cannot comprehend, + And off-hand in his collar thrusts the glove. + +ELECTOR. Thereupon? + +HOHENZOLLERN. Thereupon with pen and tablet + He seeks the Castle, with devout attention + To take the orders from the Marshal's lips. + The Electress and the Princess, journey-bound, + By chance are likewise in the hall; but who + Shall gauge the uttermost bewilderment + That takes him, when the Princess turns to find + The very glove he thrust into his collar! + The Marshal calls again and yet again + 'The Prince of Homburg!' 'Marshal, to command!' + He cries, endeavoring to collect his thoughts; + But he, ringed round by marvels--why, the thunders + Of heaven might have fallen in our midst-- + + [_He pauses._] + +ELECTOR. It was the Princess' glove? + +HOHENZOLLERN. It was, indeed! + + [_The_ ELECTOR _sinks into a brown study._] + + A stone is he; the pencil's in his hand, + And he stands there, and seems a living man; + But consciousness, as by a magic wand, + Is quenched within him; not until the morrow, + As down the lines the loud artillery + Already roars, does he return to life, + Asking me: Say, what was it Doerfling said + Last night in council, that applied to me? + +MARSHAL. Truly, my liege, that tale I can indorse. + The Prince, I call to mind, took in no word + Of what I said; distraught I've seen him oft, + But never yet in such degree removed + From blood and bone, never, as on that night. + +ELECTOR. Now then, if I make out your reasoning, + You pile your climax on my shoulders thus: + Had I not dangerously made a jest + Of this young dreamer's state, he had remained + Guiltless, in council had not roamed the clouds, + Nor disobedient proved upon the field. + Eh? Eh? Is that the logic? + +HOHENZOLLERN. My liege lord, + I trust the filling of the gaps to you. + +ELECTOR. Fool that you are, you addlepate! Had you + Not called me to the garden, I had not, + Following a whim of curiosity, + Made harmless fun of this somnambulist. + Wherefore, and quite with equal right, I hold + The cause of his delinquency were you!-- + The delphic wisdom of my officers! + +HOHENZOLL. Enough, my sovereign! I am assured, + My words fell weightily upon your heart. + + + +SCENE VI + +_An officer enters. The others as before._ + + +OFFICER. My lord, the Prince will instantly appear. + +ELECTOR. Good, then! Let him come in. + +OFFICER. Two minutes, sir! + He but delayed a moment on the way + To beg a porter ope the graveyard gate. + +ELECTOR. The graveyard? + +OFFICER. Ay, my sovereign. + +ELECTOR. But why? + +OFFICER. To tell the truth, my lord, I do not know. + It seemed he wished to see the burial-vault + That your behest uncovered for him there. + + [_The commanders group themselves and talk together._] + +ELECTOR. No matter! When he comes, let him come in! + +[_He steps to the table again and glances at the papers._] + +TRUCHSZ. The watch is bringing in Prince Homburg now. + + + +SCENE VII + +_Enter the_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. _An officer and the watch. The others + as before._ + +ELECTOR. Young Prince of mine, I call you to my aid! + Here's Colonel Kottwitz brings this document + In your behalf, look, in long column signed + By hundred honorable gentlemen. + The army asks your liberty, it runs, + And will not tolerate the court's decree. + Come, read it and inform yourself, I beg. + + [_He hands him the paper._] + +THE PRINCE (_casts a glance at the document, turns and + looks about the circle of officers_). + Kottwitz, old friend, come, let me clasp your hand! + You give me more than on the day of battle + I merited of you. But now, post-haste, + Go, back again to Arnstein whence you came, + Nor budge at all. I have considered it; + The death decreed to me I will accept! + + [_He hands over the paper to him._] + +KOTTWITZ (_distressed_). + No, nevermore, my Prince! What are you saying? + +HOHENZOLL. He wants to die-- + +TRUCHSZ. He shall not, must not die! + +VARIOUS OFFICERS (_pressing forward_). + My lord Elector! Oh, my sovereign! Hear us! + +THE PRINCE. Hush! It is my inflexible desire! + Before the eyes of all the soldiery + I wronged the holy code of war; and now + By my free death I wish to glorify it. + My brothers, what's the one poor victory + I yet may snatch from Wrangel worth to you + Against the triumph o'er the balefullest + Of foes within, that I achieve at dawn-- + The insolent and disobedient heart. + Now shall the alien, seeking to bow down + Our shoulders 'neath his yoke, be crushed; and, free, + The man of Brandenburg shall take his stand + Upon the mother soil, for it is his-- + The splendor of her meads alone for him! + +KOTTWITZ (_moved_). + My son! My dearest friend! What shall I name you? + +TRUCHSZ. God of the world! + +KOTTWITZ. Oh, let me kiss your hand! + + [_They press round him._] + +THE PRINCE (_turning toward the_ ELECTOR). + But you, my liege, who bore in other days + A tenderer name I may no longer speak, + Before your feet, stirred to my soul, I kneel. + Forgive, that with a zeal too swift of foot + I served your cause on that decisive day; + Death now shall wash me clean of all my guilt. + But give my heart, that bows to your decree, + Serene and reconciled, this comfort yet: + To know your breast resigns all bitterness-- + And, in the hour of parting, as a proof, + One favor more, compassionately grant. + +ELECTOR. Young hero, speak! What is it you desire? + I pledge my word to you, my knightly honor, + It shall be granted you, whate'er it be! + +THE PRINCE. Not with your niece's hand, my sovereign, + Purchase the peace of Gustaf Karl! Expel, + Out of the camp, expel the bargainer + Who made this ignominious overture. + Write your response to him in cannon-shots! + +ELECTOR (_kissing his brow_). + As you desire then. With this kiss, my son, + That last appeal I grant. Indeed, wherein + Now have we need of such a sacrifice + That war's ill-fortune only could compel? + Why, in each word that you have spoken, buds + A victory that strikes the foeman low! + I'll write to him, the plighted bride is she + Of Homburg, dead because of Fehrbellin; + With his pale ghost, before our flags a-charge, + Let him do battle for her, on the field! + +[_He kisses him again and draws him to his feet._] + +THE PRINCE. Behold, now have you given me life indeed! + Now every blessing on you I implore + That from their cloudy thrones the seraphim + Pour forth exultant over hero-heads. + Go, and make war, and conquer, oh, my liege, + The world that fronts you--for you merit it! + +ELECTOR. Guards! Lead the prisoner back to his cell! + + + +SCENE VIII + +NATALIE _and the_ ELECTRESS _appear in the doorway, followed by +ladies-in-waiting. The others as before._ + +NATALIE. Mother! Decorum! Can you speak that word? + In such an hour there's none but just to love him-- + My dear, unhappy love! + +THE PRINCE (_turning_). Now I shall go! + +TRUCHSZ (_holding him_). + No, nevermore, my Prince! + + [_Several officers step in his way._] + +THE PRINCE. Take me away! + +HOHENZOLL. Liege, can your heart-- + +THE PRINCE (_tearing himself free_). + You tyrants, would you drag me + In fetters to my execution-place? + Go! I have closed my reckoning with this world. + + [_He goes out under guard._] + +NATALIE (_on the_ ELECTRESS' _breast_). + Open, O earth, receive me in your deeps. + Why should I look upon the sunlight more? + + + +SCENE IX + +_The persons, as in the preceding scene, with the exception of the_ +PRINCE OF HOMBURG. + +MARSHAL. God of earth! Did it have to come to that? + + [_The_ ELECTOR _speaks in a low voice to an officer._] + + +KOTTWITZ (_frigidly_). + My sovereign, after all that has occurred + Are we dismissed? + +ELECTOR. Not for the present, no! + I'll give you notice when you are dismissed! + +[_He regards him a moment straightly and steadily; then takes the +papers which the page has brought him from the table and turns to the_ +FIELD-MARSHAL.] + + This passport, take it, for Count Horn the Swede. + Tell him it is my cousin's wish, the Prince's, + Which I have pledged myself to carry out. + The war begins again in three days' time! + + [_Pause. He casts a glance at the death warrant._] + + Judge for yourselves, my lords. The Prince of Homburg + Through disobedience and recklessness + Of two of my best victories this year + Deprived me, and indeed impaired the third. + Now that he's had his schooling these last days + Come, will you risk it with him for a fourth? + +KOTTWITZ _and_ TRUCHSZ (_helter-skelter_). + What, my adored--my worshipped--What, my liege?-- + +ELECTOR. Will you? Will you? + +KOTTWITZ. Now, by the living God, + He'd watch you standing on destruction's brink + And never twitch his sword in your behalf, + Or rescue you unless you gave command. + +ELECTOR (_tearing up the death warrant_). + So, to the garden! Follow me, my friends! + + + +SCENE X + +_The Castle with the terrace leading down into the garden, as in ACT I. +It is night, as then.--The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG, _with bandaged eyes, +is led in through the lower garden-wicket, by_ CAPTAIN STRANZ. _Officers +with the guard. In the distance one can hear the drumming of the +death-march._ + +[Illustration: #STATUE OF THE GREAT ELECTOR# Sculptor, Andreas Schlueter] + +THE PRINCE. All art thou mine now, immortality! + Thou glistenest through the veil that blinds mine eyes + With that sun's glow that is a thousand suns. + I feel bright pinions from my shoulders start; + Through mute, ethereal spaces wings my soul; + And as the ship, borne outward by the wind, + Sees the bright harbor sink below the marge, + Thus all my being fades and is submerged. + Now I distinguish colors yet and forms, + And now--all life is fog beneath my feet. + +[_The_ PRINCE _seats himself on the bench which stands about the oak +in the middle of the open space. The_ CAPTAIN _draws away from him and +looks up toward the terrace._] + + How sweet the flowers fill the air with odor! + D'you smell them? + +STRANZ (_returning to him_). They are gillyflowers and pinks. + +THE PRINCE. How come the gillyflowers here? + +STRANZ. I know not. + It must have been some girl that planted them. + Come, will you have a bachelor's button? + +THE PRINCE. Thanks! + When I get home I'll have it put in water. + + + +SCENE XI + +_The_ ELECTOR _with the laurel-wreath, about which the golden chain is +twined, the_ ELECTRESS, PRINCESS NATALIE, FIELD-MARSHAL DOeRFLING, +COLONEL KOTTWITZ, HOHENZOLLERN, GOLZ, _and others. Ladies-in-waiting, +officers and boys bearing torches appear on the castle terrace_. +HOHENZOLLERN _steps to the balustrade and with a handkerchief signals +to_ CAPTAIN STRANZ, _whereupon the latter leaves the_ PRINCE OF +HOMBURG _and speaks a few words with the guards in the background_. + +THE PRINCE. What is the brightness breaking round me, say! + +STRANZ (_returning to him_). + My Prince, will you be good enough to rise? + +THE PRINCE. What's coming? + +STRANZ. Nothing that need wake your fear. + I only wish to free your eyes again. + +THE PRINCE. Has my ordeal's final hour struck? + +STRANZ (_as he draws the bandage from the_ PRINCE's _eyes_). + Indeed! Be blest, for well you merit it! + +[_The_ ELECTOR _gives the wreath, from which the chain is hanging, to +the_ PRINCESS, _takes her hand and leads her down from the terrace. +Ladies and gentlemen follow. Surrounded by torches, the_ PRINCESS +_approaches the_ PRINCE, _who looks up in amazement; sets the wreath +on his head, the chain about his neck and presses his hand to her +breast. The_ PRINCE _tumbles in a faint_.] + +NATALIE. Heaven! The joy has killed him! + +HOHENZOLLERN (_raising him_). Help, bring help! + +ELECTOR. Let him be wakened by the cannons' thunder! + + [_Artillery fire. A march. The Castle is illuminated._] + +KOTTWITZ. Hail, hail, the Prince of Homburg! + +OFFICERS. Hail, hail, hail! + +ALL. The victor of the field of Fehrbellin! + + [_Momentary silence._] + +THE PRINCE. No! Say! Is it a dream? + +KOTTWITZ. A dream, what else? + +SEVERAL OFFICERS. To arms! to arms! + +TRUCHSZ. To war! + +DOeRFLING. To victory! + +ALL. In dust with all the foes of Brandenburg! + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 2: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 3: Ten o'clock.] + +[Footnote 4: Of Jupiter Tonans.] + +[Footnote 5: The body in the Pantheon, the head in Saint Luke's +church.] + +[Footnote 6: Strassburg.] + +[Footnote 7: The hall of the Pantheon seems too low, because a part of +its steps is hidden by the rubbish.] + +[Footnote 8: This opening in the roof is twenty-seven feet in +diameter.] + +[Footnote 9: The Pole-star, as well as other northern constellations, +stands lower in the south.] + +[Footnote 10: The German texts read: _Reben_, vines. But the +conjecture _Raben_ as the correct reading may be permitted.--ED.] + +[Footnote 11: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell & +Sons, Ltd., London.] + +[Footnote 12: This appropriate expression was, if we mistake not, +first used by M. Adam Mueller in his _Lectures on German Science and +Literature_. If, however, he gives himself out as the inventor of the +thing itself, he is, to use the softest word, in error. Long before +him other Germans had endeavored to reconcile the contrarieties of +taste of different ages and nations, and to pay due homage to all +genuine poetry and art. Between good and bad, it is true, no +reconciliation is possible.] + +[Footnote 13: This difficulty extends also to France; for it must not +be supposed that a literal translation can ever be a faithful one. +Mrs. Montague has done enough to prove how wretchedly even Voltaire, +in his rhymeless Alexandrines, has translated a few passages from +_Hamlet_ and the first act of _Julius Caesar_.] + +[Footnote 14: It begins with the words: _A mind reflecting ages past_, +and is subscribed I.M.S.] + +[Footnote 15: Lessing was the first to speak of Shakespeare in a +becoming tone; but he said, unfortunately, a great deal too little of +him, as in the time when he wrote the _Dramaturgie_ this poet had not +yet appeared on our stage. Since that time he has been more +particularly noticed by Herder in the _Blaetter von deutscher Art und +Kunst_; Goethe, in _Wilhelm Meister_; and Tieck, in "Letters on +Shakespeare" (_Poetisches Journal_, 1800), which break off, however, +almost at the commencement.] + +[Footnote 16: The English work with which foreigners of every country +are perhaps best acquainted is Hume's _History_; and there we have a +most unjustifiable account both of Shakespeare and his age. "Born in a +_rude age_, and educated in the lowest manner, without any instruction +either _from the world_ or from books." How could a man of Hume's +acuteness suppose for a moment that a poet, whose characters display +such an intimate acquaintance with life, who, as an actor and manager +of a theatre, must have come in contact with all descriptions of +individuals, had no instruction from the world? But this is not the +worst; he goes even so far as to say, "a reasonable propriety of +thought he cannot for any time uphold." This is nearly as offensive as +Voltaire's "drunken savage."--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 17: In my lectures on _The Spirit of the Age_.] + +[Footnote 18: In one of his sonnets he says: + + O, for my sake do you with fortune chide + The guilty goddess of my harmless deeds, + That did not better for my life provide + _Than public means which public manners breeds_. + +And in the following: + + Your love and pity doth the impression fill, + which _vulgar scandal_ stamp'd upon my brow.] + +[Footnote 19: + + And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, + That so did take Eliza and our James!] + +[Footnote 20: This is perhaps not uncommon still in some countries. +The Venetian Director Medebach, for whose company many of Goldoni's +Comedies were composed, claimed an exclusive right to them.--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 21: _Twelfth Night, or What You Will_--Act iii., scene 2.] + +[Footnote 22: _As You Like It_.] + +[Footnote 23: In one of the commendatory poems in the first folio +edition: + + And on the stage at _half sword parley_ were + Brutus and Cassius.] + +[Footnote 24: In the first volume of _Charakteristiken und Kritiken_, +published by my brother and myself.] + +[Footnote 25: A contemporary of the poet, the author of the +already-noticed poem, (subscribed I.M.S.), tenderly felt this when he +said: + + Yet so to temper passion that our ears + Take pleasure in their pain, and eyes in tears + Both smile and weep.] + +[Footnote 26: In Hamlet's directions to the players. Act iii., scene +2.] + +[Footnote 27: See Hamlet's praise of Yorick. In _Twelfth Night_, +Viola says: + + This fellow is wise enough to play the fool, + And to do that well craves a kind of wit; + He must observe their mood on whom he jests, + The quality of the persons, and the time; + And like the haggard, check at every feather + That comes before his eye. This is a practice + As full of labor as a wise man's art: + For folly that he wisely shows is fit, + But wise men's folly fall'n quite taints their wit.--AUTHOR. + +The passages from Shakespeare, in the original work, are given from the +author's masterly translation. We may be allowed, however, to observe that +the last line-- + + "Doch wozu ist des Weisen Thorheit nutz?" + +literally, _Of what use is the folly of the wise?_--does not convey the +exact meaning of Shakespeare.--TRANS.] + +[Footnote 28: "Since the little wit that fools have was silenced, the +little foolery that wise men have makes a greater show."--_As You Like +It_, Act I, scene 2.] + +[Footnote 29: Charles the Bold, of Burgundy, is known to have +frequently boasted that he wished to rival Hannibal as the greatest +general of all ages. After his defeat at Granson, his fool accompanied +him in his hurried flight, and exclaimed, "Ah, your Grace, they have +for once Hanniballed us!" If the Duke had given an ear to this warning +raillery, he would not so soon afterward have come to a disgraceful +end.] + +[Footnote 30: I shall take the opportunity of saying a few words +respecting this species of drama when I come to speak of Ben Jonson.] + +[Footnote 31: Here follows, in the original, a so-called "Allegory of +Impudence."--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] + +[Footnote 32: Here follows in the original a biographic sketch called +"Apprenticeship of Manhood."--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.] + +[Footnote 33: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + +[Footnote 34: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork. From _Spiritual +Songs_ (1799).] + +[Footnote 35: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork. From _Spiritual +Songs_ (1799).] + +[Footnote 36: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.] + +[Footnote 37: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.] + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics of The Nineteenth +and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV, by Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GERMAN CLASSICS, IV. *** + +***** This file should be named 12060.txt or 12060.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/0/6/12060/ + +Produced by Stan Goodman, Jayam Subramanian and PG Distributed +Proofreaders + + +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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