No More Learning

Suspicion is a heavy armour, and
With its own weight impedes more than protects.
Good night! I trust to meet with him at day-break.
[_Exit_ GABOR.

_Re-enter_ IDENSTEIN _and some Peasants_.
JOSEPHINE _retires up the Hall_.

_First Peasant_. But if I'm drowned?

_Iden. _ Why, you will be well paid for 't,
And have risked more than drowning for as much,
I doubt not.

_Second Peasant_. But our wives and families?

_Iden. _ Cannot be worse off than they are, and may 670
Be better.

_Third Peasant_. I have neither, and will venture.

_Iden. _ That's right. A gallant carle, and fit to be
A soldier. I'll promote you to the ranks
In the Prince's body-guard--if you succeed:
And you shall have besides, in sparkling coin,
Two thalers.

_Third Peasant_. No more!

_Iden. _ Out upon your avarice!
Can that low vice alloy so much ambition?
I tell thee, fellow, that two thalers in
Small change will subdivide into a treasure.
Do not five hundred thousand heroes daily 680
Risk lives and souls for the tithe of one thaler?
When had you half the sum?

_Third Peasant_. Never--but ne'er
The less I must have three.

_Iden. _ Have you forgot
Whose vassal you were born, knave?

_Third Peasant_. No--the Prince's,
And not the stranger's.

_Iden. _ Sirrah! in the Prince's
Absence, I am sovereign; and the Baron is
My intimate connection;--"Cousin Idenstein!
(Quoth he) you'll order out a dozen villains. "
And so, you villains! troop--march--march, I say;
And if a single dog's ear of this packet 690
Be sprinkled by the Oder--look to it!
For every page of paper, shall a hide
Of yours be stretched as parchment on a drum,
Like Ziska's skin,[169] to beat alarm to all
Refractory vassals, who can not effect
Impossibilities. --Away, ye earth-worms!
[_Exit, driving them out_.

_Jos. _ (_coming forward_).
I fain would shun these scenes, too oft repeated,
Of feudal tyranny o'er petty victims;
I cannot aid, and will not witness such.
Even here, in this remote, unnamed, dull spot, 700
The dimmest in the district's map, exist
The insolence of wealth in poverty
O'er something poorer still--the pride of rank
In servitude, o'er something still more servile;
And vice in misery affecting still
A tattered splendour. What a state of being!
In Tuscany, my own dear sunny land,
Our nobles were but citizens and merchants,[170]
Like Cosmo. We had evils, but not such
As these; and our all-ripe and gushing valleys 710
Made poverty more cheerful, where each herb
Was in itself a meal, and every vine
Rained, as it were, the beverage which makes glad
The heart of man; and the ne'er unfelt sun
(But rarely clouded, and when clouded, leaving
His warmth behind in memory of his beams)
Makes the worn mantle, and the thin robe, less
Oppressive than an emperor's jewelled purple.
But, here! the despots of the north appear
To imitate the ice-wind of their clime, 720
Searching the shivering vassal through his rags,
To wring his soul--as the bleak elements
His form. And 'tis to be amongst these sovereigns
My husband pants! and such his pride of birth--
That twenty years of usage, such as no
Father born in a humble state could nerve
His soul to persecute a son withal,
Hath changed no atom of his early nature;
But I, born nobly also, from my father's
Kindness was taught a different lesson. Father! 730
May thy long-tried and now rewarded spirit
Look down on us and our so long desired
Ulric! I love my son, as thou didst me!
What's that? Thou, Werner! can it be? and thus?

_Enter_ WERNER _hastily, with the knife in his hand,
by the secret panel, which he closes hurriedly after him_.

_Wer. _ (_not at first recognising her_).
Discovered! then I'll stab--(_recognising her_). Ah! Josephine
Why art thou not at rest?

_Jos. _ What rest? My God!
What doth this mean?

_Wer. _ (_showing a rouleau_).
Here's _gold_--_gold_, Josephine,
Will rescue us from this detested dungeon.

_Jos. _ And how obtained? --that knife!

_Wer. _ 'Tis bloodless--_yet_.
Away--we must to our chamber.

_Jos. _ But whence comest thou? 740

_Wer. _ Ask not! but let us think where we shall go--
This--this will make us way--(_showing the gold_)--I'll fit them now.

_Jos. _ I dare not think thee guilty of dishonour.

_Wer. _ Dishonour!

_Jos. _ I have said it.

_Wer. _ Let us hence:
'Tis the last night, I trust, that we need pass here.

_Jos. _ And not the worst, I hope.

_Wer. _ Hope! I make _sure_.
But let us to our chamber.

_Jos. _ Yet one question--
What hast thou _done_?

_Wer. _ (_fiercely_). Left one thing _undone_, which
Had made all well: let me not think of it!
Away!

_Jos. _ Alas that I should doubt of thee! 750
[_Exeunt_.




ACT II.

SCENE I. --_A Hall in the same Palace_.

_Enter_ IDENSTEIN _and Others_.

_Iden. _ Fine doings! goodly doings! honest doings!
A Baron pillaged in a Prince's palace!
Where, till this hour, such a sin ne'er was heard of.

_Fritz_. It hardly could, unless the rats despoiled
The mice of a few shreds of tapestry.

_Iden. _ Oh! that I e'er should live to see this day!
The honour of our city's gone for ever.

_Fritz_. Well, but now to discover the delinquent:
The Baron is determined not to lose
This sum without a search.

_Iden. _ And so am I. 10

_Fritz_. But whom do you suspect?

_Iden. _ Suspect! all people
Without--within--above--below--Heaven help me!

_Fritz_. Is there no other entrance to the chamber?

_Iden. _ None whatsoever.

_Fritz_. Are you sure of that?

_Iden. _ Certain. I have lived and served here since my birth,
And if there were such, must have heard of such,
Or seen it.

_Fritz_. Then it must be some one who
Had access to the antechamber.

_Iden. _ Doubtless.

_Fritz_. The man called _Werner's_ poor!

_Iden. _ Poor as a miser[171].
But lodged so far off, in the other wing, 20
By which there's no communication with
The baron's chamber, that it can't be he.
Besides, I bade him "good night" in the hall,
Almost a mile off, and which only leads
To his own apartment, about the same time
When this burglarious, larcenous felony
Appears to have been committed.

_Fritz_. There's another,
The stranger----

_Iden. _ The Hungarian?

_Fritz_. He who helped
To fish the baron from the Oder.

_Iden. _ Not
Unlikely. But, hold--might it not have been 30
One of the suite?

_Fritz_. How? _We_, sir!

_Iden. _ No--not _you_,
But some of the inferior knaves. You say
The Baron was asleep in the great chair--
The velvet chair--in his embroidered night-gown;
His toilet spread before him, and upon it
A cabinet with letters, papers, and
Several rouleaux of gold; of which _one_ only
Has disappeared:--the door unbolted, with
No difficult access to any.

_Fritz_. Good sir,
Be not so quick; the honour of the corps 40
Which forms the Baron's household's unimpeached
From steward to scullion, save in the fair way
Of peculation; such as in accompts,
Weights, measures, larder, cellar, buttery,
Where all men take their prey; as also in
Postage of letters, gathering of rents,
Purveying feasts, and understanding with
The honest trades who furnish noble masters[cq];
But for your petty, picking, downright thievery,
We scorn it as we do board wages. Then 50
Had one of our folks done it, he would not
Have been so poor a spirit as to hazard
His neck for _one_ rouleau, but have swooped all;
Also the cabinet, if portable.

_Iden. _ There is some sense in that----

_Fritz_. No, Sir, be sure
'Twas none of our corps; but some petty, trivial
Picker and stealer, without art or genius.
The only question is--Who else could have
Access, save the Hungarian and yourself?

_Iden. _ You don't mean me?

_Fritz_. No, sir; I honour more 60
Your talents----

_Iden. _ And my principles, I hope.

_Fritz_. Of course. But to the point: What's to be done?

_Iden. _ Nothing--but there's a good deal to be said.
We'll offer a reward; move heaven and earth,
And the police (though there's none nearer than
Frankfort); post notices in manuscript
(For we've no printer); and set by my clerk
To read them (for few can, save he and I).
We'll send out villains to strip beggars, and
Search empty pockets; also, to arrest 70
All gipsies, and ill-clothed and sallow people.
Prisoners we'll have at least, if not the culprit;
And for the Baron's gold--if 'tis not found,
At least he shall have the full satisfaction
Of melting twice its substance in the raising
The ghost of this rouleau. Here's alchemy
For your Lord's losses!

_Fritz_. He hath found a better.

_Iden. _ _Where? _

_Fritz_. In a most immense inheritance.
The late Count Siegendorf, his distant kinsman,
Is dead near Prague, in his castle, and my Lord 80
Is on his way to take possession.

_Iden. _ Was there
No heir?

_Fritz_. Oh, yes; but he has disappeared
Long from the world's eye, and, perhaps, the world.
A prodigal son, beneath his father's ban
For the last twenty years; for whom his sire
Refused to kill the fatted calf; and, therefore,
If living, he must chew the husks still.
But
The Baron would find means to silence him,
Were he to re-appear: he's politic,
And has much influence with a certain court. 90

_Iden. _ He's fortunate.

_Fritz_. 'Tis true, there is a grandson,
Whom the late Count reclaimed from his son's hands,
And educated as his heir; but, then,
His birth is doubtful.

_Iden. _ How so?

_Fritz_. His sire made
A left-hand, love, imprudent sort of marriage,
With an Italian exile's dark-eyed daughter:
Noble, they say, too; but no match for such
A house as Siegendorf's. The grandsire ill
Could brook the alliance; and could ne'er be brought
To see the parents, though he took the son. 100

_Iden. _ If he's a lad of mettle, he may yet
Dispute your claim, and weave a web that may
Puzzle your Baron to unravel.

_Fritz_. Why,
For mettle, he has quite enough: they say,
He forms a happy mixture of his sire
And grandsire's qualities,--impetuous as
The former, and deep as the latter; but
The strangest is, that he too disappeared
Some months ago.

_Iden. _ The devil he did!

_Fritz_. Why, yes:
It must have been at _his_ suggestion, at 110
An hour so critical as was the eve
Of the old man's death, whose heart was broken by it.

_Iden. _ Was there no cause assigned?

_Fritz_. Plenty, no doubt,
And none, perhaps, the true one. Some averred
It was to seek his parents; some because
The old man held his spirit in so strictly
(But that could scarce be, for he doted on him);
A third believed he wished to serve in war,
But, peace being made soon after his departure,
He might have since returned, were that the motive; 120
A fourth set charitably have surmised,
As there was something strange and mystic in him,
That in the wild exuberance of his nature
He had joined the black bands[172], who lay waste Lusatia,
The mountains of Bohemia and Silesia,
Since the last years of war had dwindled into
A kind of general condottiero system
Of bandit-warfare; each troop with its chief,
And all against mankind.

_Iden. _ That cannot be.
A young heir, bred to wealth and luxury, 130
To risk his life and honours with disbanded
Soldiers and desperadoes!

_Fritz_. Heaven best knows!
But there are human natures so allied
Unto the savage love of enterprise,
That they will seek for peril as a pleasure.
I've heard that nothing can reclaim your Indian,
Or tame the tiger, though their infancy
Were fed on milk and honey. After all,
Your Wallenstein, your Tilly and Gustavus,
Your Bannier, and your Torstenson and Weimar[173], 140
Were but the same thing upon a grand scale;
And now that they are gone, and peace proclaimed,
They who would follow the same pastime must
Pursue it on their own account. Here comes
The Baron, and the Saxon stranger, who
Was his chief aid in yesterday's escape,
But did not leave the cottage by the Oder
Until this morning.

_Enter_ STRALENHEIM _and_ ULRIC.

_Stral. _ Since you have refused
All compensation, gentle stranger, save
Inadequate thanks, you almost check even them, 150
Making me feel the worthlessness of words,
And blush at my own barren gratitude,
They seem so niggardly, compared with what
Your courteous courage did in my behalf----

_Ulr. _ I pray you press the theme no further.

_Stral. _ But
Can I not serve you? You are young, and of
That mould which throws out heroes; fair in favour;
Brave, I know, by my living now to say so;
And, doubtlessly, with such a form and heart,
Would look into the fiery eyes of War, 160
As ardently for glory as you dared
An obscure death to save an unknown stranger,
In an as perilous, but opposite, element.
You are made for the service: I have served;
Have rank by birth and soldiership, and friends,
Who shall be yours. 'Tis true this pause of peace
Favours such views at present scantily;
But 'twill not last, men's spirits are too stirring;
And, after thirty years of conflict, peace
Is but a petty war, as the time shows us 170
In every forest, or a mere armed truce.
War will reclaim his own; and, in the meantime,
You might obtain a post, which would ensure
A higher soon, and, by my influence, fail not
To rise. I speak of Brandenburgh, wherein
I stand well with the Elector[174]; in Bohemia,
Like you, I am a stranger, and we are now
Upon its frontier.

_Ulr. _ You perceive my garb
Is Saxon, and, of course, my service due
To my own Sovereign. If I must decline 180
Your offer, 'tis with the same feeling which
Induced it.

_Stral. _ Why, this is mere usury!
I owe my life to you, and you refuse
The acquittance of the interest of the debt,
To heap more obligations on me, till
I bow beneath them.

_Ulr. _ You shall say so when
I claim the payment.

_Stral. _ Well, sir, since you will not--
You are nobly born?

_Ulr. _ I have heard my kinsmen say so.

_Stral. _ Your actions show it. Might I ask your name?

_Ulr. _ Ulric.

_Stral. _ Your house's?

_Ulr. _ When I'm worthy of it, 190
I'll answer you.

_Stral. _ (_aside_). Most probably an Austrian,
Whom these unsettled times forbid to boast
His lineage on these wild and dangerous frontiers,
Where the name of his country is abhorred.
[_Aloud to_ FRITZ _and_ IDENSTEIN.
So, sirs! how have ye sped in your researches?

_Iden. _ Indifferent well, your Excellency.

_Stral. _ Then
I am to deem the plunderer is caught?

_Iden. _ Humph! --not exactly.

_Stral. _ Or, at least, suspected?

_Iden. _ Oh! for that matter, very much suspected.

_Stral. _ Who may he be?

_Iden. _ Why, don't _you_ know, my Lord? 200

_Stral. _ How should I? I was fast asleep.

_Iden. _ And so
Was I--and that's the cause I know no more
Than does your Excellency.

_Stral. _ Dolt!

_Iden. _ Why, if
Your Lordship, being robbed, don't recognise
The rogue; how should I, not being robbed, identify
The thief among so many? In the crowd,
May it please your Excellency, your thief looks
Exactly like the rest, or rather better:
'Tis only at the bar and in the dungeon,
That wise men know your felon by his features; 210
But I'll engage, that if seen there but once,
Whether he be found criminal or no,
His face shall be so.

_Stral. _ (_to_ FRITZ). Prithee, Fritz, inform me
What hath been done to trace the fellow?

_Fritz_. Faith!
My Lord, not much as yet, except conjecture.

_Stral. _ Besides the loss (which, I must own, affects me
Just now materially), I needs would find
The villain out of public motives; for
So dexterous a spoiler, who could creep
Through my attendants, and so many peopled 220
And lighted chambers, on my rest, and snatch
The gold before my scarce-closed eyes, would soon
Leave bare your borough, Sir Intendant!

_Iden. _ True;
If there were aught to carry off, my Lord.

_Ulr. _ What is all this?

_Stral. _ You joined us but this morning,
And have not heard that I was robbed last night.

_Ulr. _ Some rumour of it reached me as I passed
The outer chambers of the palace, but
I know no further.

_Stral. _ It is a strange business:
The Intendant can inform you of the facts. 230

_Iden. _ Most willingly. You see----

_Stral. _ (_impatiently_). Defer your tale,
Till certain of the hearer's patience.

_Iden. _ That
Can only be approved by proofs. You see----

_Stral. _ (_again interrupting him, and addressing_ ULRIC).
In short, I was asleep upon my chair,
My cabinet before me, with some gold
Upon it (more than I much like to lose,
Though in part only): some ingenious person
Contrived to glide through all my own attendants,
Besides those of the place, and bore away
A hundred golden ducats, which to find 240
I would be fain, and there's an end. Perhaps
You (as I still am rather faint) would add
To yesterday's great obligation, this,
Though slighter, yet not slight, to aid these men
(Who seem but lukewarm) in recovering it?

_Ulr. _ Most willingly, and without loss of time--
(_To_ IDENSTEIN. ) Come hither, mynheer!

_Iden. _ But so much haste bodes
Right little speed, and----

_Ulr. _ Standing motionless
None; so let's march: we'll talk as we go on.

_Iden. _ But----

_Ulr. _ Show the spot, and then I'll answer you. 250

_Fritz_. I will, sir, with his Excellency's leave.

_Stral. _ Do so, and take yon old ass with you.

_Fritz_. Hence!

_Ulr. _ Come on, old oracle, expound thy riddle!
[_Exit with_ IDENSTEIN _and_ FRITZ.

_Stral. _ (_solus_). A stalwart, active, soldier-looking stripling,
Handsome as Hercules ere his first labour,
And with a brow of thought beyond his years
When in repose, till his eye kindles up
In answering yours. I wish I could engage him:
I have need of some such spirits near me now,
For this inheritance is worth a struggle. 260
And though I am not the man to yield without one,
Neither are they who now rise up between me
And my desire. The boy, they say, 's a bold one;
But he hath played the truant in some hour
Of freakish folly, leaving fortune to
Champion his claims. That's well. The father, whom
For years I've tracked, as does the blood-hound, never
In sight, but constantly in scent, had put me
To fault; but _here_ I _have_ him, and that's better.
It must be _he_! All circumstance proclaims it; 270
And careless voices, knowing not the cause
Of my enquiries, still confirm it. --Yes!
The man, his bearing, and the mystery
Of his arrival, and the time; the account, too,
The Intendant gave (for I have not beheld her)
Of his wife's dignified but foreign aspect;
Besides the antipathy with which we met,
As snakes and lions shrink back from each other
By secret instinct that both must be foes
Deadly, without being natural prey to either; 280
All--all--confirm it to my mind. However,
We'll grapple, ne'ertheless. In a few hours
The order comes from Frankfort, if these waters
Rise not the higher (and the weather favours
Their quick abatement), and I'll have him safe
Within a dungeon, where he may avouch
His real estate and name; and there's no harm done,
Should he prove other than I deem. This robbery
(Save for the actual loss) is lucky also;
He's poor, and that's suspicious--he's unknown, 290
And that's defenceless. --True, we have no proofs
Of guilt--but what hath he of innocence?
Were he a man indifferent to my prospects,
In other bearings, I should rather lay
The inculpation on the Hungarian, who
Hath something which I like not; and alone
Of all around, except the Intendant, and
The Prince's household and my own, had ingress
Familiar to the chamber.

_Enter_ GABOR.

Friend, how fare you?

_Gab. _ As those who fare well everywhere, when they 300
Have supped and slumbered, no great matter how--
And you, my Lord?

_Stral. _ Better in rest than purse:
Mine inn is like to cost me dear.

_Gab. _ I heard
Of your late loss; but 'tis a trifle to
One of your order.

_Stral. _ You would hardly think so,
Were the loss yours.

_Gab. _ I never had so much
(At once) in my whole life, and therefore am not
Fit to decide. But I came here to seek you.
Your couriers are turned back--I have outstripped them,
In my return.

_Stral. _ You! --Why?

_Gab. _ I went at daybreak, 310
To watch for the abatement of the river,
As being anxious to resume my journey.
Your messengers were all checked like myself;
And, seeing the case hopeless, I await
The current's pleasure.

_Stral. _ Would the dogs were in it!
Why did they not, at least, attempt the passage?
I ordered this at all risks.

_Gab. _ Could you order
The Oder to divide, as Moses did
The Red Sea (scarcely redder than the flood
Of the swoln stream), and be obeyed, perhaps 320
They might have ventured.

_Stral. _ I must see to it:
The knaves! the slaves! --but they shall smart for this.
[_Exit_ STRALENHEIM.

_Gab. _ (_solus_). There goes my noble, feudal, self-willed Baron!
Epitome of what brave chivalry
The preux Chevaliers of the good old times
Have left us. Yesterday he would have given
His lands[175] (if he hath any), and, still dearer,
His sixteen quarterings, for as much fresh air
As would have filled a bladder, while he lay
Gurgling and foaming half way through the window 330
Of his o'erset and water-logged conveyance;
And now he storms at half a dozen wretches
Because they love their lives too! Yet, he's right:
'Tis strange they should, when such as he may put them
To hazard at his pleasure. Oh, thou world!
Thou art indeed a melancholy jest! [_Exit_ GABOR.


SCENE II.